《Summus Proelium》


 Discovery 1-01

    ¡°Get the kid, get the fucking kid!¡±


    That frantic voice came from behind me as I ran down the narrow, dimly-lit corridor of a mangy motel that probably did more business by the hour than by the night. The short reply, that they were trying to ¡®get the kid¡¯, was much closer than the first. It came from the heavy, hulking man barely three good steps from being able to snatch the back of my raised hoody with his outstretched hand.


    Yeah, I was the kid. Well, not really a kid. I was sixteen years old. But I was the one they were talking about. The one they were chasing. The one who really didn¡¯t want to be ¡®got¡¯.


    Open window at the end of the hall, leading out to a fire escape. With the big guy literally right on my heels, I didn¡¯t have a choice. With the same rush of panicked adrenaline that had been fueling my every step since¡­ since the moment that had burned itself deep into my mind a handful of seconds earlier, I hurled myself at the open window. Leaping and diving, I passed through, sprawling out on the rickety fire escape, which shook dangerously under my impact.


    But I was out. I was out of the building. I was¨C


    The man reached through the window, catching hold of my sneaker-clad foot. With a panicked yelp, I kicked out. My shoe came off, and the man stumbled back a step. It was enough for me to scramble back to my feet. As I fled down the fire escape, two more men came into view by the window. I saw them from the corner of my eye, though with my hoody up, they didn¡¯t get a good look at me. Which was a good thing, because I really, really didn¡¯t want them to recognize me later. Not when I had just seen them murder two people.


    Yeah, murder. That¡¯s why they were after me, why they wanted to¡­ to stop me, to catch me. And probably kill me too.


    Why did I follow Simon? Why did I hide in the car? Why, why was I here?!


    I was crying, sobbing, throwing up in my mouth even as I ran, spitting some of it out in a violent, disgusting cough even as part of me screamed that I had to find Simon. I had to find my brother. He wasn¡¯t in that room back there, he wasn¡¯t¡­ he wasn¡¯t one of the dead people. I knew that much, so where was he?! Did he¨Cwas he hiding? Where was he?! I needed help. I needed my brother! Oh God, please, please let him be okay. Please, please.


    My feet, one of them bare, made the fire escape rattle loudly with each motion as I scrambled my way down it. Above, the three men emerged as well and began to rocket their way down after me. They were coming fast, too fast. I had to go, go! Had to ignore the pain in my right foot from running without a shoe on and run!


    Hitting the last landing, I shoved the ladder out and let it fall into place before dropping onto it to scramble down. My head had just dropped below the level of the landing when the world suddenly erupted, an explosion of sound so terrifyingly loud that I lost my grip on the ladder in mid-climb and fell.


    My back hit the pavement hard enough to almost knock the wind out of me, pain shooting its way through my body while I came to terms with what that noise had been.


    A gunshot. One of the men had shot at me. They shot at me, hitting the landing where I had just been. It was so loud, that single gunshot had been like thunder from a lightning strike that came right next to my ear.


    It wasn¡¯t the guy who had shot the two people inside that motel room, not the one I had just seen murder a couple helpless victims tied to chairs by shooting them point-blank in the head. That guy had used a silencer. It hadn¡¯t been completely quiet. Each shot had been accompanied by a sound like someone coughing. But it definitely wasn¡¯t anything like the explosion of deafening thunder this shot had been.


    Shot at me. They shot at me. They were going to shoot me. They were going to shoot me.


    The thought barely had time to fully register before I was back on my feet and running across the parking lot. The pavement was rough under my single bare foot, but I didn¡¯t care. Getting shot, that would probably hurt a little more than a few bruises on my foot.


    Run, Cassidy! I screamed at myself, even as the sound of the men lunging off the fire escape behind me with a chorus of grunts penetrated the steady buzzing that had been in my ears since that single gunshot. Run!


    I ran, hitting a sharp stone on the way that cut my foot, making me stumble. Just as I did, something sharp cut right through my hair, taking a chunk out of the brick wall ahead of me. A bullet? But there was no deafening bang that time. That one had come from the silenced gun.


    I was still crying. The realization struck just as my eyes blurred from the tears of panic and terror as I hit the alley next to the motel lot. The men were shouting, one of them bellowing something about stopping. I was sobbing, running, hurtling myself through that alley, around the stack of overturned trash cans, through the shallow puddle, past the enormous dumpster, to the chain link fence. A fence that was too high to climb before the men got to me. Too high to climb before they shot me. Too high. Too high.


    Something caught my eye, a flash that made my head jerk that way. An orb of light hovered just by the end of the dumpster I had passed. It was a little larger than a softball, glowing blue with little specks of white that alternated in an almost hypnotizing pattern of what looked like a cross between hieroglyphics and lightning. And, in an odd way, the thing seemed to be calling to me.


    In that moment, my terror vanished for just a few seconds. My confusion, my horror, the revulsion that had taken over me from the instant that I had seen those people murdered right in front of me, all of it disappeared. All I was left with was a sudden and intense fascination with that orb.


    Slowly, my hand reached out toward the orb. From the corner of my eye, I could see the three men running toward me.


    Except they weren¡¯t running. They weren¡¯t moving at all. They were frozen in mid-step. Some part of me, in a distant and quiet part of my mind, registered that as wrong and strange. But it couldn¡¯t penetrate the supernatural fascination that kept my eyes rigidly locked on the glowing blue and white orb. My rising hand finally reached it, my fingers brushing its warm structure before my palm settled against it.


    And then I was somewhere else.


    I was standing in an empty world, the dirt under my feet gray and the terrain itself utterly featureless. Fog surrounded me, fog that made it impossible to see very far. Yet everywhere I could see, no matter which direction I turned, was the same blank landscape anyway.


    Where was I? What was going on? What¡­ how¡­


    Taking a few hesitant steps, I felt the tickle of something in the back of my mind. I knew this. I had heard plenty of stories of this. But it couldn¡¯t be real, not now, not for me. It couldn¡¯t be happening to me. No, not me. Not¡­


    I thought of Simon. An image appeared in the fog ahead of me. I saw him the way I¡¯d seen him only a few minutes earlier, getting out of the car after stopping in the parking lot of that motel. The motel that neither of us should have been anywhere near. We went to private schools, our family had like four houses in three different countries and a permanent residence in a few penthouses. Yeah, I was from one of those families. We did not go to fleabag motels in the middle of one of the worst parts of town.


    I wouldn¡¯t have been there, except for the car. The car¡­ God, the car. The image in the fog changed until I was looking at the beautiful thing. It was a blue 1971 Plymouth Hemi Barracuda. Worth around four hundred thousand dollars. Which, to a man like Sterling Evans, my father, was basically chump change. He was one of those guys whose job was basically to be rich and invest money into other companies to make him even more rich.


    So the 71 Cuda wasn¡¯t the most expensive car in our garage. But it was my favorite, the one I desperately wanted to drive. At sixteen, I was obsessed with getting a chance to drive Royal Thunder, as Simon and our dad called her.


    So desperate, in fact, that I loved just spending time in her. That evening, long after I was supposed to be in bed, I had snuck down to the garage, using the alarm code Dad didn¡¯t know I had to get out into the garage, past the line of other vehicles, to sneak into the back of Royal Thunder. For awhile, I¡¯d sat there behind the wheel, imagining driving through slick streets with my friends, hanging with boys¡­ God, I¡¯d wanted that so badly I could taste it. Dad would let me take the car in a few more months, once I passed drivers'' ed. Just a few more months.


    The sound of the door opening, the same one I¡¯d come through from the house to get into the garage, had snapped me out of my daydreaming. Just as the main lights came on, I had scrambled into the backseat, panicking as I dropped down to hide under a blanket back there.


    I¡¯d heard footsteps approaching, a voice talking on the phone. Simon. It was Simon. My brother, four years older than I was, ignored all of my silent, mental pleading and got right into Royal Thunder, sitting in the same seat I¡¯d been in moments earlier.


    Unlike me, Simon was allowed to drive the car. He had the keys from the pegboard near the door, and a moment after sitting down, clicked off his phone call, started up the car, and drove off.


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    I had stayed quiet throughout the drive, terrified of being caught in the car after Dad had warned me repeatedly to leave it alone. I kept my head down, praying Simon wouldn¡¯t hear my too-heavy breathing.


    We drove to that motel. The image of the car in the fog ahead of me faded into the building, then became the cracked open door once more. The same cracked open door I had first walked up to back then, a lifetime and three minutes ago. I¡¯d been looking for my brother, trying to see what he was doing. Wherever he was, it wasn¡¯t that room. That awful, evil, horrible room.


    I couldn¡¯t help myself. My feet walked across that featureless dust, and I looked through the crack. Just as I had before. Just as I had minutes earlier.


    And, just as before, I saw the three men standing there. I saw two figures seated on chairs. My brain barely had time to comprehend that they were tied to them before one of the men lifted something in his hand. A gun. He was holding a gun.


    A cough sound. One of the people jerked backward, a hole in their forehead. The man turned the gun to the second figure, who was screaming, pleading for his life. Another cough, and he was dead as well.


    I had made a noise then, a soft gasp, a cry, a panicked sob of fear and confusion. Whatever it was, it caught the men¡¯s attention. Their gazes had jerked my way, where they saw¡­ something. Not enough to know what I looked like, because I had already been falling back from that crack. Voices had started shouting and I had been running.


    Running down the hall. Jumping through the window. Climbing down the fire escape. Sprinting through the alley. Hitting the fence. Finding the glowing orb.


    The images in the fog changed rapidly, spinning through every thought I had like a kaleidoscope of memories, before settling on that single picture, of the glowing orb.


    A voice from nowhere, yet everywhere spoke two words.


    ¡°Summus Proelium.¡±


    I knew those words. Everyone knew those words. Or at least everyone who paid even a little bit of attention to the Touched scene.


    The ¡®Touched¡¯ were people who¡­ well, touched those orbs. They had started to appear here and there about twenty years earlier, in 1999, right before the new millenium. Some people thought they were sent from God, others thought it was some kind of tech experiment gone wrong, while still others were absolutely convinced that it was aliens trying to reach out.


    Whatever the orbs were from, they tended to show up around intensely emotional moments, as if drawn to them. But that wasn¡¯t a hard rule. Sometimes they just¡­ appeared. And anyone who touched them became one of the Touched, someone with unnatural powers. Superpowers. Yeah. If you touched one of the orbs, you got powers. That¡¯s how it worked.


    People who had been interviewed about their own Touching experience had described basically what I just went through. You ended up in a vast, empty world full of fog. You saw images in the fog, usually related to what was just happening that brought you to that point. And then¡­ then you ended up back in the real world with some kind of gift.


    Some people went on to use that gift for really good things, others used it for bad things. Superheroes and supervillains, to put it simply. Though some people didn¡¯t like those terms. They preferred ¡®Fell-Touched¡¯ for villains and ¡®Star-Touched¡¯ for heroes. But whatever, they were mostly interchangeable. Those and a few other terms.


    Either way, whatever they were called, everyone who went through the orb thing said you heard a voice say those two words. Summus Proelium. Which was Latin for something like Highest Warrior. But no one knew why those two words, why they were in Latin, or anything else. It just happened that way.


    The image of the orb faded, along with the words that had echoed in my mind. I saw¡­ myself then. I was standing there, staring at an image of myself in the fog. It was basically like any other time I¡¯d looked into the mirror. I saw Cassidy Evans as everyone else did. I was skinny, with too-pale skin and black hair that was cut long on one side and very short on the other. Black, that was, aside from the pink bangs that fell almost to my eyes and often had to be blown out of them. I alternated those between pink, green, blue, whatever I happened to be feeling at the time. Sometimes I did the ends too, or a streak.


    I really couldn¡¯t blame the goons for calling me a kid. From the back, it was understandable, considering I was barely five feet tall. Hell, from the front it was understandable. I wasn¡¯t completely bereft of a chest or anything, but¡­ well, let¡¯s just say that with the baggy clothes I liked to wear and the way I slouched, I¡¯d often been told I looked more like a thirteen-year-old boy than a sixteen-year-old girl.


    Standing there, staring at myself, I had a moment to wonder how exactly I could possibly look any more different from my brother, who was basically the definition of tall, blonde, and handsome. Like our father. They were cut from the same cloth, with piercing blue eyes unlike my own dull brown, and the kind of rippling, perfect muscles that made basically all my friends fall in love with one or both of them. It was gross.


    God, I hoped he was okay. Please be okay, Simon.


    All the images in the fog faded away, and I had time for the idea of what my touching the orb actually meant before I was suddenly thrust back into the real world. The world snapped into the same scene it had been in a moment earlier. I was half-hidden by the dumpster as the three men raced down the alley.


    They shouted as they came into view, and my hands reflexively jerked upward as a panicked scream tore its way through my throat. It was some combination of a wordless cry, a plea for them not to shoot, and an angry bellow. It was a lot of things. Other than coherent. It definitely wasn¡¯t that.


    My scream did nothing. My hands however¡­ I felt something warm and wet erupt from them, spraying out, like a hose. It felt weird, and my scream turned to a squeal of surprise.


    I wasn¡¯t the only one squealing. Looking that way, I saw¡­ paint. Yeah, paint. It was everywhere. There was blue paint all over the nearby fence, yellow paint on the ground, green paint near the yellow, orange paint on the far wall, and red paint all over the men themselves, including their faces. They were all screaming right alongside me, blindly flailing and cursing. They couldn¡¯t see what was going on. They couldn¡¯t see me standing there, hands raised as I stared at them, utterly terrified.


    Wait, that was my amazing new superpower? Paint? I made paint?


    Even as I had that thought, my eyes settled on the flailing men covered in red paint. A thought touched my mind. An instinct, an¡­ understanding. And in the next instant, the three figures were yanked together. They slammed into one another, colliding hard as the red paint was drawn to itself. That was what the red paint did, it pulled parts of itself together, like magnets mixed with glue. Or something like that. Really powerful magnets and glue.


    The flailing, stumbling group that was the three gun-toting thugs all stuck together stepped onto the yellow paint on the ground. As they did so, all three of them suddenly started moving slower. Like, noticeably slower. They were moving at about half speed, a gradual slow-motion stumble.


    Then they hit the green paint, and they weren¡¯t slow anymore. In fact, they were really quick. Twice as quick as they should have been. Suddenly, they basically flew right past me, like someone had hit double speed on the video. One second they were moving like they were underwater, and in the next, they were hurtling past me, right at the fence.


    The fence, where the blue paint was. The men hit it and were instantly hurtled away, as if a giant hand had come up to smack them off of it. They bounced, like hitting a trampoline. A sideways trampoline that sent them rocketing off down the alley to sprawl against the ground, still stuck together.


    Red paint stuck things together. Yellow slowed things down. Green sped them up. Blue repelled things, or made them bounce, or¡­ or¡­ something. Orange, I didn¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t know. I¡­ I¡­


    The men were getting up, unsticking themselves. Apparently the paint didn¡¯t last that long. Worse, I could hear more footsteps arriving.


    Eyes wild with terror, I spun to the fence and pointed down toward the base of it. Blue paint. Blue paint. I could make the jump with blue paint.


    Nothing happened. Why? Why was nothing happening?! How did I work it? What was I supposed to do?! How did I make the powers work, how could I get out of here without the paint!?


    The men were getting up. More were coming. No time. I had no time. None.


    With a choked sob of confusion and fear, I did the only thing I could do. I dropped to my stomach and rolled under the dumpster. It was a raised version, the wheels high enough to leave a little bit of space. Not much, but enough for me to barely shimmy my way beneath.


    Right, some amazing superhero (or Touched, whatever) I was, huh? Two seconds after getting my powers and what was I doing? Hiding under a dumpster because I couldn¡¯t figure out how to make them work enough to get over a damn fence.


    Hiding there, cowering while trying not to cry, I heard someone snap at the men who had been chasing me. The alley, distance, and my own terror distorted the voice a bit, but I could just make it out. ¡°Well? Did you find the fucking kid, or what?¡±


    ¡°Th-the paint, man,¡± one of the men stammered.


    ¡°What paint?¡± the first voice snapped.


    I looked, turning my head. Sure enough, all the paint along the wall, fence, and ground had vanished, just like the stuff that had been on the guys themselves. It was temporary, apparently.


    The men mumbled something, and I heard footsteps coming closer. The one who had just caught up, who had barked demands, stood just on the other side of the dumpster. ¡°No paint,¡± he snapped. ¡°There¡¯s no paint here. And for the record, when my father asks why the witness escaped, if I were you I¡¯d try to have a better excuse than invisible paint. Something tells me he won¡¯t react well to that. And, you know, quite frankly, I¡¯m kind of annoyed too.¡±


    One of the other men tried to say something, before the first voice interrupted. ¡°No, no, wait. Wait. I was talking to my therapist and she said that I have a tendency to lash out without thinking things through. You know, I get mad and then I just¡­ explode. She said I should count to five before I do anything rash. Right. Okay. One¡­. two¡­ three¡­ four¡­ five.¡±


    On the tail end of that last number, there was a sound just like the coughing I¡¯d heard. Another silenced gun. It was accompanied by a scream from one of the men.


    ¡°Nope,¡± the voice cheerfully announced, ¡°still had to shoot one of you. Maybe next time I¡¯ll try counting to ten. But you know, who has that kind of patience?¡±


    His voice darkened then. ¡°Take him to the doc, get that leg patched up. And do us all a favor. Ask around, find the kid, get it taken care of. Because I really don¡¯t want to tell my father what you did. Okay? Okay.¡±


    He walked away then, moving back past the other men before leaving the alley without crouching to look under the dumpster where I was cowering, one hand over my mouth as tears streamed down my face.


    He didn¡¯t find me. Which was a good thing, because I knew his voice. I knew him, and he definitely would have recognized me if he had bothered to look. Or he should have, considering I sat across the breakfast table from him any day that he happened to bother eating before going off to his college classes.


    And now I knew where Simon was.

 Discovery 1-02

    I threw up while laying under that dumpster.


    I tried to be quiet about it, turning my head toward the wall that was already stained with decades of much worse than my puke. My body hunched in on itself as I lost what little was left in my stomach from the dinner I¡¯d had however many hours earlier. I wanted to curl in even tighter and close my eyes until all of this went away and I woke up safe in my bed without having to deal with¡­ with¡­ any of this. I wanted it to go away. I wanted it to be a dream.


    It wasn¡¯t, and I didn¡¯t wake up. The smell of my own puke was enough to convince me of that, to say nothing of the¡­ other glorious scents under that dumpster. I wasn¡¯t going to magically wake up back in my bed. And if I didn¡¯t move before those guys came back this way on their search, I¡¯d probably never see my bed again. Unless they took me to Simon before killing me.


    Simon wouldn¡¯t kill me. Would he? I¡­ no. No, I didn¡¯t think he would.


    But then, I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d kill anybody and look where that had gone. I hadn¡¯t seen him do it himself, but he was definitely completely fine with ordering it done. And he had shot that guy just for not being able to find me. He¡­ he¡­ wanted them to kill whoever saw them execute those other two. He was responsible. He ordered it. My brother ordered people killed.


    My brother ordered people killed.


    I threw up again. Mostly dry heaving, and I did it as quietly as possible. Still, every little noise that I made made me cringe inwardly. I had to get out of here. Had to move while they weren¡¯t looking, while they were distracted searching elsewhere. Eventually they would circle back to see if there were any more clues about where I¡¯d gone or who I was. And when they did, I couldn¡¯t be here.


    Even knowing that, it still took me another few seconds to work up my nerve. Slowly, I inched my way out from under the dumpster, peeking with just my head for a moment to make sure things looked clear. Nobody. There was nobody in sight. Taking a breath of (slightly) fresher air, I pushed myself up to my hands and knees, staring out of the alley with the paranoid attention of a squirrel taking food from a dog¡¯s own dish. Nothing. I could hear voices in the distance, but they were coming from far enough away that the people were probably at the front of the motel.


    Right. Now I had time. But if they were up near the front of the motel, they¡¯d probably see me going out of the alley. I had to get over this fence. And I was pretty sure they¡¯d hear it rattling and shaking if I climbed the thing. And that would take too long anyway. I needed to be quieter and faster.


    I needed that paint stuff. But I¡¯d tried it before and it hadn¡¯t worked. Why? Was it just because I had panicked? Because I didn¡¯t know how to work it? Because I¡¯d run out? I wasn¡¯t sure. But I did know that every second I took worrying about it and fretting was another second that those guys might make their way back around, or cut off my escape some other way. I had to try.


    Right, okay. Do it, Cassidy. Stepping back, I stared at the ground while hesitantly raising both hands to point toward it. Paint. Blue paint. It was the blue stuff that repelled things. So¡­ so just make it come out. Squirt. Spray. Shoot. Make paint. Whooo paint, you can do it!


    Was I seriously giving my own superpowers a pep talk?


    Narrowing my eyes, I focused. Paint. Blue paint. Just a little spray of¨C


    It came. I was paying attention that time and actually saw what happened. It didn¡¯t come from inside my hand. Instead, I saw a tiny, spinning ball of paint appear in my palm before a spray of the stuff shot out toward the ground. A second later, there was a blue puddle there, a couple feet across. It worked. It worked! I made paint come from my hands just by willing it!


    Okay, so as far as super powers went, maybe it wasn¡¯t the flashiest. But still, it was me! I did that! I made paint! There were like a dozen people I wanted to show off for.


    Then I remembered that one of those people was my brother. And¡­ oh yeah.


    That brought me back down to reality real quick. My face dropped like a stone. A stone that fell into my stomach. I took a quick glance over my shoulder, my nerves suddenly returning. I had to get out of here. To that end, I watched the paint for a moment before hesitantly picking up a little pebble from the ground. Carefully, I dropped the pebble onto the paint.


    Nothing. It just sat there doing nothing. Except getting wet paint on itself. The stuff wasn¡¯t bouncy or repellant at all. I slumped, head shaking. I wanted it to be boun¨C


    The pebble went flying into the air. My gaze snapped up to try to follow it, but it disappeared. I looked to the paint then, testing it by putting my foot close. Just before I was about to touch it, my foot was forcefully shoved upward so hard I almost lost my balance and stumbled a little. It worked! It was working! It¨C it was gone. As I caught myself and eagerly looked that way, I found the puddle of blue paint fading right before my eyes.


    Okay. Okay, okay, okay. I could figure this out. Later. The details could wait for later, but right now, I needed more paint. So I focused, making another puddle of blue paint. Again, I tested it with one foot. Nothing. I just stepped in blue paint. At least it was the one that still had a shoe.


    Then I thought about what I wanted. I thought about it being bouncy or repelling things. Staring at it, I took a breath (ignoring how silly it felt) and jumped with both feet into the paint, like a kid hopping into a puddle.


    I was thrown way up into the air, enough to clear the fence. Somehow, through what had to be a miracle, I avoided screaming. I even managed not to break my back by landing on it on the other side of the fence. It wasn¡¯t a graceful landing at all, as I basically fell into what amounted to a half-roll, half-sprawling heap, scraping my bare foot a bit. But I was on the other side of the fence, with a minimum of noise. The first arch-enemy in my fresh career as a super-powered person, an eight foot tall fence, was thoroughly conquered.


    Then I went to stand up and promptly accidentally kicked over a trash can, sending it clattering along the ground while the stray cat that had been sleeping behind it bounded off, yowling loudly.


    God damn, I was really bad at this.


    Panicking at the sound of voices, I looked around quickly. Above me was a balcony. No one seemed to be right there, so I pointed my hands at the ground and made another puddle of blue paint. At least I knew how to do that. Somewhat.


    The paint worked, and I quickly jumped on it, bouncing myself up to the balcony. I¡¯d just managed to haul myself up and over, ducking down behind the short brick half-wall surrounding it, when the voices I¡¯d been hearing entered the alley.


    Actually, I realized it was only one voice I¡¯d been hearing. But it was definitely at least two sets of footsteps. They were making no effort to be quiet, the guy who was talking doing so in a normal tone without whispering. ¡°Yeah,¡± he was saying while they stopped just beneath me, ¡°I¡¯m just gonna go ahead and guess that whoever that kid is, he¡¯s not stupid enough to be five feet from where he was last seen and make a bunch of noise when there¡¯s a bunch of guys with guns ten feet away.¡±


    Oh good, they were overestimating me. Maybe they¡¯d overestimate me over a few blocks so I could escape this one.


    And speaking of being stupid, I slowly lifted my head. Telling myself it was a bad idea, yet unable to resist, I very carefully peered over the edge of the roof and looked down. Immediately, I regretted it. Because the two below me weren¡¯t normal thugs. They weren¡¯t any of the guys that had been working with Simon.


    They were Touched. I knew that as soon as I saw them. The one who was talking wore a pair of black slacks, black combat boots, a red turtleneck with an attached matching scarf that covered the lower half of his face, a red bandana over his hair, and a black leather jacket. On the back of the jacket was an image of a red baseball bat. The same kind and color that he carried in one hand.


    The other guy was dressed in a modified soldier¡¯s combat uniform. Green camo pants and jacket, with a black balaclava, dark mirrored ski goggles that had a green trim, and heavy silver and green gauntlets on each arm. The boots that he wore were also made of metal. And he carried a complicated-looking rifle that looked like it belonged in a sci fi movie.


    I knew them. I knew who they were. Both of them were Selltouched. Mercenaries, Touched who worked for the highest bidder. Selltouched varied a lot in just what they were willing to do for money, but for the most part they would work either side.


    These guys were either brothers or lovers, depending on who you talked to. The one who was doing all the talking, with the red bat, was called Two-Step. His power basically gave him a sort of¡­ semi-solid ghost he could call on at any time. The ghost would act like his shadow, copying any action he¡¯d taken within the past hour. Usually he used it in the middle of a fight, letting his shadow follow his attacks so that anyone who fought him had to keep track of what he was doing and what he just did a second ago. Or ten seconds ago. Or thirty seconds ago. Or whatever. I¡¯d seen interviews with heroes from the Conservators and Ten Towers alike who said that fighting him was a pain because the whole time you were doing it, his ghost-self could pop up doing anything he¡¯d done throughout the entire fight up to that point.


    The other guy, his brother or lover, was Lastword. His powers were weird. As far as anyone could tell, he sort of¡­ changed his powers every time he spoke. Or rather, every time he stopped speaking. Whatever the¡­ well, last word he spoke was, his power would randomly change to somehow fit that word in some way. Like if he said something about fire, he¡¯d get fire powers. If he said something about traveling, he¡¯d get some kind of movement power. If he said stop, he might freeze things or halt momentum. It was pretty random. But he could also get powers that let him build things. That was where his gauntlets, gun, and boots came from.


    Lastword and Two-Step. Selltouched. They were obviously working with¡­ for Simon. Or for my dad. Or¡­ or¡­ fuck, fuck. Touched. They were right there, and they were looking for me. Fuck!


    Okay, keep it together. I had to stay¡­ not calm, but not freak the hell out either. They didn¡¯t believe that I was stupid enough to still be there. I just had to stay quiet.


    Sure enough, it wasn¡¯t long before the two of them started to walk off. They were heading toward one of the other buildings, Two-Step saying something about how I might¡¯ve run for the freeway on the far side and that someone else they could talk to might¡¯ve seen me for a better description.


    Okay, I knew where I wasn¡¯t going. Watching them head off, I finally let out the breath I¡¯d been holding and straightened up. There was no sign of anyone else, so I could get out of there.


    Now I just had to get down. And that was harder than it should¡¯ve been. Awkwardly maneuvering myself over the wall and down to hold on by my hands, I cringed before letting go.


    Ow. Dropping like that hurt. Once more, I sprawled against the ground and just laid there for a couple seconds. My eyes closed briefly before opening again hopefully.


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    Nope. Still not a dream. Still had to get up. Still had to escape. Still had a brother who ordered people to be murdered.


    Dragging myself off the ground, I looked around quickly before starting to move as fast as I could. It wasn¡¯t running. I couldn¡¯t run while missing one of my shoes. Which was too bad, since running would¡¯ve been really good right then. I liked running. I¡¯d done track at school for awhile, and still jogged a lot. Though track meets were a pretty far cry from being hunted by guys with guns. I¡¯d also done a lot of skating, but that wasn¡¯t exactly helpful right now either, since I couldn¡¯t magically make my pace-skates appear any more than I could summon any of my other shoes to replace the missing one..


    Distance. I needed distance. Fast-walking away from that alley as quickly and quietly as I could, I kept an ear out for anyone. My hood was still up and my head was down. Right now, everyone who was after me thought I was a boy. The last thing I wanted was for them to get a better description. I couldn¡¯t even pretend that it wasn¡¯t me, since I was literally missing a shoe. I had to walk fast, keep my head down, and get enough distance to use my phone for a ride.


    That¡¯s what I did. Keeping my head down and moving as fast as my bare foot would let me, I made my way through the interconnected parking lots and alleys of several buildings. I stayed quiet, ducked out of the way whenever people came anywhere near, but otherwise tried to keep going. I had no idea what I was going to do about¡­ about any of this. I didn¡¯t know how to deal with it, or even how to accept it. I just knew I had to keep going.


    It took forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes for me to walk what amounted to about six blocks. Far enough that I was pretty sure I was outside of their immediate search area. There was a twenty-four hour Mexican fast food place there, with a few people sitting around outside of it. But I didn¡¯t go any closer. The last thing I wanted was witnesses to describe me if any of those guys came this way.


    Instead, I lurked around the corner and used my phone to signal an Uber. Then I stood there, staring at the phone indecisively.


    The cops. There were two dead bodies back there. Or at least, there had been. They were probably already moving them, but I¡¯d seen enough cop shows to know that there might still be some kind of evidence. But if I called them with my own phone, they¡¯d be able to track me down immediately. My dad and brother would both know that I was the witness. Could I¡­ could I¡­


    I couldn¡¯t. Not yet. I had to know more. I couldn¡¯t let them know it was me. But I also couldn¡¯t give up without sending the cops there, even if I had to do it anonymously. But how?


    Then I remembered. The Doephone. Doe as in Jane or John Doe. It wasn¡¯t a physical thing, it was a service, an app that the Ten Towers group had put out. You download the app for your phone, use it, and it would let you call either Ten Towers itself or to any of the emergency services completely anonymously. Basically it acted like a VPN for your phone. You called through the Doephone service and Doephone itself connected you to the cops or paramedics or whatever. That way people could call in tips or report problems without exposing who they were. It was also used by solo/unaffiliated Touched who wanted to let the police know where to find bad guys they¡¯d subdued.


    Quickly, I downloaded the app and used it to report the bodies to the police. I spoke quickly and in as few words as possible, just telling them that there were two dead people back in that building and where to find it. Then I disconnected. If by some chance either Simon or my dad ever heard the recording, I didn¡¯t want them to recognize anything about how I spoke.


    After that, it was just a matter of waiting for about ten minutes. And that was ten of the longest minutes of my life. I pressed my back to the wall, praying silently as my eyes kept darting one way, then another, like a paranoid rabbit.


    It was also ten minutes where I had nothing to do (aside from panicking about every little noise) besides think about everything I¡¯d heard. Dad. Dad and Simon. They were¡­ they were bad guys? Like¡­ really bad guys.


    I wasn¡¯t stupid. Err, usually, anyway. I knew our family wasn¡¯t like¡­ normal or super nice or anything. Dad made a lot of money. We were privileged. We lived in a multi-million dollar house (and had several others), our garage held a fleet of vehicles. We went to the most expensive private schools, took unbelievable vacations, and so on. I¡¯d always had a pretty charmed life, all things considered.


    And now I had to wonder just how much of that life had been paid for in blood. In murder. In the suffering, literal suffering of innocent people. I had an ATV at one of the cabins we liked to stay at. How many people had been murdered to pay for that. Was one ATV like¡­ a percentage of a life? Did one person¡¯s life pay for my ATV and that trip to Italy last year? Or did that take a whole family? How many people were hurt or killed to fund my Christmases over the past few years? How¡­ how many¡­


    Oh God, I was going to throw up again.


    The Uber came then, and I saved myself from actually heaving before climbing into the backseat. The guy, a bored Latino guy in his twenties with a Hawaiian shirt and a black driving cap. He asked where we were going, and I told him. He whistled, making some comment about me moving up in the world or something before heading out.


    I slumped back in the seat and looked out the window as we drove. Detroit, Michigan. That was where we were, my home. I¡¯d heard that, before superpowers started appearing twenty years earlier, Detroit had basically been circling the drain. Once one of the most powerful and rich cities in the country, if not the world, the whole place crashed hard. Most of the automobile factories closed and it was looking pretty bad.


    Then super powers started appearing. Touched became a thing, both good and bad. And suddenly there was a demand for advanced technology. Tech that was either built by and/or built in response to super powers. The military and police forces needed equipment and vehicles built or modified quickly. The various Touched teams, as they too began to be a thing, also required equipment, vehicles, places to build their designs.


    Detroit had everything that was needed. Old factories could be brought up to speed quickly. Land and property was cheap. People were desperate for jobs. It was basically the perfect storm for something like that. The past twenty years had been a huge boom for the whole city and the surrounding suburbs. The rejuvenated factories lured in other businesses, and Detroit was once more one of the most important cities in the country.


    But it had only been twenty years since the near-collapse of the whole thing, and all of this newfound wealth and power had basically sprung up right on top of the old Detroit. There was still a lot of crime, a lot of bad neighborhoods that no one was supposed to go near. There were a lot of problems.


    So there were also a lot of Touched, of both the Star and Fell variety. Some of the good guys, like the Conservators, were Federal government-funded groups with actual military ranks. The Conservators operated in every state, and had authority everywhere. There was a branch right here in Detroit.


    Then there were the Spartans, the state-level team whose headquarters was here as well. They had smaller groups spread throughout Michigan.


    There were also non-government teams, like Ten Towers. They were a corporate-sponsored group, funded by, of course, ten different companies. Ten Towers mainly operated in the midwest. They did a lot of good, though there were people who didn¡¯t trust them because they were basically salaried employees working for big business. But, well¡­ duh? Big companies like that could afford to pay the kind of wages that a superhero would need or want, especially when they pooled their resources like these ten had done. And they had a vested interest in keeping the cities running as smoothly as possible.


    So there was the national team of Conservators, the state-level team of Spartans, the regional corporation-sponsored team of Ten Towers, and maybe three or four other individual hero groups of varying sizes. Not to mention the mercenary groups that were considered somewhat gray in morality.


    All of those, and I had no idea who to talk to about what I¡¯d heard, what I¡¯d seen, beyond the anonymous report about the dead bodies that probably wouldn¡¯t amount to much. Should I go to the police to tell them everything, one of those Touched groups, someone else? Should I go to a lawyer? To a teacher? To the military? To my dad and demand to know what was going on? To my mom? Did she know any of this?


    While I was still trying to decide¡­ anything at all, we reached my neighborhood on the far outskirts of town. The place had been built up in the past couple decades to accommodate the sudden influx of rich investors. Investors like my father.


    It was a gated community, of course. The whole neighborhood was blocked off, and I didn¡¯t want a record of me coming in. So I had the driver let me out about a block away. He seemed a bit disappointed that he wouldn¡¯t get a chance to drive in and check out the rich people¡¯s neighborhood, but he seemed to get over it after I paid the bill and left a forty-dollar tip.


    I¡¯d snuck in and out of the neighborhood enough that I knew the patrol patterns of Steve, the guard who worked this time of night during the week. He was off on his rounds right then, so I was able to just duck under the bar blocking entrance for vehicles, and make my way along the dark sidewalk.


    Just as I was approaching the gate to our driveway a few minutes later, I heard a car coming up around the bend that I had just turned. And not just any car. I knew the sound. I knew the engine. It was Royal Thunder, the 71 Cuda. I knew it anywhere. It had to be Simon.


    Quickly ducking out of sight behind a nearby shrub, I watched as the car passed by. It reached the gate, paused briefly while Simon entered the code into the nearby panel, then headed in as the gate rumbled open.


    Waiting for another few seconds, I then quickly started running as fast as my bare foot would let me. At least now I was on a very nicely maintained sidewalk, so I wasn¡¯t stepping on pebbles or loose concrete all the time.


    I also had to watch the slowly rotating security camera on the corner of the wall. Timing my run to get there as the camera was pointed in the opposite direction, and just before the open gate started closing, I slipped through and onto the grounds of my family¡¯s mansion. Normally there was a guard at the gate, but I knew how Henry worked. When Simon drove in, Henry would walk up from the little shack there to open the door for him in the garage. It gave me a window to get through without any questions.


    Our house was huge. There was no other way to put it. The grounds were huge, the house itself was huge, the pool house around back was huge. When Dad had the place built, he spared no expense. It sat on six and a half acres, the house itself just a bit under sixteen thousand square feet. There were nine bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a full library, a whole wing for servants, a small theater, four different offices (three of which I was never allowed into), a kitchen that belonged in a five-star restaurant (the chef belonged there too, Dad had poached him from one).


    It may have been been super modern on the inside, but from the outside, the place looked like an old castle even though it had been built just sixteen years ago, the same year I was born. Dad liked it that way. He said it gave it charm.


    Despite its old appearance, there were other cameras around the grounds, but I knew how to avoid them. Making my way off the driveway and across the dark grass, I crept closer, slowly moving toward the open garage. I would wait until Simon headed in and started closing the garage door, then slip in myself.


    Those plans vanished as soon as I heard my mother¡¯s voice loudly announce, ¡°Thank you, Henry. You can go now.¡±


    My heart fell into my stomach, and I dropped flat behind the nearest tree to the driveway, right on the edge of the grass. Belly-crawling closer, I hesitantly poked my head around the low-hanging tree and stared into the open garage.


    Mom was there. Elena Evans, n¨¦e Russo, was a tall, strong Italian woman with long, curly dark hair and a beautiful face that people said reminded them of Marisa Tomei. She stood there, staring at my brother. My brother. Staring at him from my cover, I really looked at Simon. Like our father, he was tall (and like our mother, for that matter, where the hell did my shortness come from?), with blond hair cut short save for a longer bit up near the front that he deliberately let grow long enough to fall over his blue eyes for that dreamboat look.


    Mom wasn¡¯t impressed. She pointed to his hand, making an annoyed noise in the back of her throat.


    I looked too. And my heart fell further. My shoe. He was holding my shoe. Wait, did he know? Did he know I was there, that it was me, that I was¨C


    ¡°And what precisely is this?¡± Mom interrupted my wave of horrified panic.


    ¡°Shoe from the kid,¡± Simon muttered, waving it absently.


    In a flash of movement, Mom snatched the shoe from his hand before using it to smack Simon across the face. My eyes widened, and I smothered the gasp that came with my hand. Simon, for his part, barely made a sound. He simply straightened sharply.


    Using the shoe to point at him, Mom snapped, ¡°Che cazzo ¨¨? You bring the shoe of a witness to two murders into my home?¡± She smacked him with the thing again, then threw it at him and gestured to the car. ¡°Go! We have no evidence here, figlio mio. You know this. You are better than this.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, ma, I¡¯m going.¡± Simon muttered. ¡°God, it¡¯s just a¨C¡± He took a quick step back as Mom raised her hand threateningly. ¡°I¡¯m going.¡± Striding back to the car, he got in and slammed the door after himself before peeling back out, leaving Mom shouting after him in a rush of Italian. Then she sighed and started to look toward the tree where I was, so I ducked back, hugging the grass.


    It wasn¡¯t just Dad and Simon. It wasn¡¯t. Some part of me had held out hope that it would be, but¡­ but Mom knew. She knew all of it. She was part of it. My dad, my mom, and my brother. They were all¡­ criminals. They ordered people killed. They¡­ they probably killed people themselves. They were evil. My family was evil.


    What the hell was I supposed to do now?

 Discovery 1-03

    I slept.


    Yeah, it wasn¡¯t exactly going to solve¡­ well, any of my problems. But hey, I was really tired by that point. And I figured there really wasn¡¯t anything I could do about it right then. I¡¯d sent an anonymous call to the cops about the bodies. Short of actually confronting my mother right then and there, I couldn¡¯t actually do anything in the middle of the night.


    So, I crashed. At first, I¡¯d thought it would be impossible for me to sleep, that I¡¯d toss and turn all night. But as it was, I didn¡¯t even have a chance to take more than my hoody off and fall face-down across the width of my bed before I was out like a light. There were no dreams, which felt weird. I would have thought that I would have nightmares. But I didn¡¯t. I just slept through.


    I slept so long, in fact, that it was the sound of the vacuum turning on that woke me up. The high pitched hum of the motor jerked me awake, sending me up and over the side of my bed to crash onto the floor with a loud yelp.


    Slowly poking my head up over the bed, I stared at the self-satisfied smile of Jania Estrada, one of our maids. She was from Panama, before her mother brought her over the States in ¡®68, when Jania had been fourteen. Now she was in her mid-sixties, but you¡¯d never know it. She was basically one of the most energetic, cheerful, playful people I¡¯d ever met. She was always playing pranks on the other, often younger staff members. Olivia, our head housekeeper, had tried to fire her a few times, but the butler, Dexter, had final say and never let it stick.


    ¡°Oh, good morning, Miss Evans,¡± Jania called over the sound of the vacuum in a sing-song voice that completely failed to convey any actual surprise that she had startled me. ¡°I did not see you there. I thought you would be downstairs by now.¡± She gave me a significant look while methodically cleaning my carpet. Translation: I was late.


    Groaning a little, I picked myself up and glanced to one of the clocks on my wall. I had seven of them, six showing the time from some other country. It was a product of Dad traveling so much, I¡¯d wanted to know what time it was in the countries he was in the most so I¡¯d know if it was okay to call him. By now I could basically figure it out myself, but when I was a little kid, it was useful. And they¡¯d basically been there for so long that I didn¡¯t want to take them down.


    According to the Detroit clock, it was already quarter after seven. Which meant I only had an hour before school started.


    School. How the hell was I supposed to think about school when my family was¡­ when¡­ when we were¡­


    I shook it off. But Jania must have seen something in my face, because she stopped the vacuum, her voice turning serious. ¡°Miss Evans?¡± she started, clearly concerned. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± My voice faltered, and I very nearly went to hug her like I had so much when I was little. Or at least littler. I glanced to her, biting my lip before nodding. ¡°Just waking up. I¨Cthanks, Jania.¡±


    Turning to my closet, I moved to open it and walked inside. The thing was big enough to be a small room of its own, and I basically had every single outfit I¡¯d ever owned in there that hadn¡¯t already been given to charity. There was even the cheerleading uniform from when I¡¯d done that for a semester in junior high under the mistaken assumption that people would finally stop calling me a boy. Instead they just made jokes about how the school was so inclusive now because they finally had a male cheerleader. Hilarious.


    Once I¡¯d finally had enough up top to be considered breasts, people had switched to either asking if I was ¡®mid-transition¡¯ or if I was using padding. I deflected by making a comment about how if I was using padding, I¡¯d use more of it. That was usually the best way to deal with that kind of thing.


    I¡¯d gone out with a guy for about a week during my freshman year, before people teased him about ¡®being gay¡¯, or complimented him for landing ¡®the school¡¯s pretty boy¡¯, so he broke it off. My relationship last year, as a sophomore, had fared better. That had gone on for almost four months before Tomas ended up moving back to Britain with his diplomat dad.


    That was my reputation. I had been called the prettiest boy in school since I was twelve, and it just wouldn¡¯t go away. For awhile, I¡¯d thought about only wearing things that emphasized what little breasts I had, but that just wasn¡¯t me. I wasn¡¯t comfortable like that. So I decided screw it, and kind of¡­ leaned into the whole thing. I decided to out-boy most of the boys and kind of developed a reputation for throwing myself enthusiastically at any dare or bet they could come up with. I¡¯d put myself in the emergency room a couple times just because I wouldn¡¯t say no when someone dared me to do something stupid and dangerous. I mean, I had a limit, of course. But if I thought I could do it, I¡¯d throw myself at it even if I was afraid.


    If they wanted to call me a boy, I was going to do things that boys were too scared to do, damn it.


    Standing there in the closet, staring at the old cheerleading stuff, I finally shook off the memories and grabbed my school uniform. It consisted of black shoes, black pants, a black blazer, a blue shirt, and a white tie. The name of the school was Cadillac Preparatory School, named for Antoin de la Mothe Cadillac, the French explorer who founded the place that eventually became Detroit (the car company was named after him too), and that name was written across the front of the blazer.


    Taking the uniform, I ran into my bathroom to shower and dress in record time. I took one quick detour back to my room to shove a few things into a backpack and made it downstairs just as Jefferson, our driver, was looking at his watch.


    ¡°Two minutes late, Miss Evans,¡± he pointed out while tapping his watch. ¡°You know how that affects the schedule.¡±


    Yeah, I knew. Jefferson was obsessed with punctuality. He timed everything, to the point of knowing exactly what speed he needed to travel at to hit every green light on each of his daily routes. Me being late threw that off. And I didn¡¯t even have a chance to grab breakfast. Not that I would have wanted to risk seeing¨C


    ¡°Aww,¡± Simon spoke up from behind me, making me jump. ¡°Don¡¯t be too hard on the kid. After all, maybe it was lady problems. I mean, she¡¯s probably started puberty by now, right?¡±


    It was light-hearted teasing. At least, that¡¯s how I¡¯d seen it before. But now, it gave me the creeps in a way it hadn¡¯t before. Especially when he squeezed both of my shoulders from behind. I jumped, spinning around to face him as my hands went up defensively. At the last instant, I stopped myself from making any paint appear.


    ¡°Whoa, hey there, slugger,¡± my brother relented while holding up both hands in surrender. ¡°Sorry, maybe that was too far.¡± He blinked at my expression. ¡°You okay, Booster?¡±


    He didn¡¯t know. He didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d heard the night before, what I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d seen. Getting my breath under control, I quickly nodded. ¡°Y-yeah, I just¡­ I¡¯m waking up. You should wear a bell around your neck or something. Maybe those clown shoes that squeak when you walk.¡±


    God damn it, don¡¯t mention shoes, for the love of fuck! Out of everything you could mention right now, why shoes?! And stop shaking, I told myself. Stop staring at him, stop trembling. Just stand still.


    Simon was clearly distracted, because he didn¡¯t notice my behavior. He just glanced at his own phone, mumbled something about meeting someone, and started off.


    Jefferson wasn¡¯t in the mood to wait any longer, and I didn¡¯t mind, since I had no desire to run into any other member of my family just then. So I followed the man out to the garage, making a point of not looking at Royal Thunder. Instead, I headed straight for the black BMW that Jefferson called Henlein (after Peter Henlein, the inventor of the watch) and stepped into the back.


    Despite my being late getting downstairs, we still made it to the school in record time. Jefferson let me out right at the front. I thanked him, walking inside past a dozen people who called out or waved. I had already plastered a smile onto my face, waving back as I made my way into the school.


    From there, I went all the way through to the back, bypassing my locker without a second glance. I was still walking, trying to keep to myself without looking like I was keeping to myself, when a voice stopped me.


    ¡°Hah, fancy seeing you here.¡±


    Blinking, I turned to look over to where one of the janitors was mopping up a spill. My eyes rose to his face before I made a sound of surprise despite myself. It was that Latino guy from last night, my Uber driver. He was wearing the uniform of the school custodian instead of that Hawaiian shirt, but he still had his black driving cap. The nametag on his uniform read Adrian.


    ¡°You¡¯re¨Cyou¡­ I¡­ you¡­¡± I pointed at him a bit dumbly.


    ¡°Driving doesn¡¯t pay all the bills,¡± the guy replied, gesturing to the mop and bucket. ¡°Gotta do something else while I wait to hear back from Spielberg about that script.¡± He winked then. ¡°Hey, you ever find your shoe?¡±


    ¡°Shoe,¡± I echoed flatly before suddenly shaking myself. ¡°Err, yeah. Yeah, it¡¯s fine. I¡­ you weren¡¯t here before.¡±


    ¡°Only been around a couple days,¡± he agreed. ¡°Mostly in the boy¡¯s locker room. You know, new guy¡¯s gotta spitshine that armpit of hell. Joke¡¯s on them, I take care of four younger brothers, two still in diapers and the other two old enough to need deodorant but too young to care.¡± Gesturing to his face, Adrian added, ¡°My sense of smell threw itself off a cliff years ago.¡±


    My mouth opened and shut before I managed to cough, smiling despite myself. ¡°I, um, yeah. I¡¯ve been by the locker room with the door open. Trust me, your nose made the right move.¡±


    Realizing that I needed to get moving then, I awkwardly excused myself and hurried on while feeling him watching me leave for a few seconds before the crowd swallowed me up.


    Heading through one of the other doors, I greeted more people, heading across the football field. Halfway there, I heard the buzzer announcing that school was starting.


    I ignored it. Picking up speed, I jogged the rest of the way across the field to reach the street beyond.


    Yeah, after everything that had happened, I was in no mood to just sit in classes and fidget for seven hours.


    I could have called another Uber (one that wouldn¡¯t be Adrian), but my destination was only about nine blocks away, so I skated. I needed time to think, time to clear my head. Taking a moment by the back fence of the school, I took my pace-skates from my bag.


    Pace-skates were an invention of one of the Touched whose powers lent themselves toward creating or building things. In this case, they were basically shoes or boots that could shift into rollerblades by clicking the heels together or speaking a codeword that was programmed with your own voice. They had been a huge fad a couple years earlier, but had faded a bit over time. I still liked them though.


    On the way, while leisurely skating down the sidewalk, I took my phone out to check what had been reported the night before about the murders at the motel.


    Nothing. Literally. There wasn¡¯t a single story about the motel or any crime reported within a few blocks of there. No mysterious deaths, no signs of violence, not even a random jaywalking. There was nothing. Clearly the cops had gotten there, found nothing, and written it off as a prank or whatever. Great. Not that unexpected, but still.


    With a sigh, I moved faster. A few people gave me second looks, but mostly everyone minded their own business. I made it all the way to where I was going without any interruptions.


    As for where I was going, it was a building that was set back away from the street a little ways, past a chainlink fence and a parking lot. From the outside, it looked like a warehouse. It had been one at one point. But the place had closed down years earlier. A few months ago, one of Dad¡¯s companies had bought it and started renovating the place for some kind of youth activities area, for the local kids. Unfortunately, work on that had stalled only a few weeks into the project. Something about permits. So the whole place had sat basically empty for all this time.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Empty, that was, aside from when I wanted to use it. I¡¯d found the code for the door written down on a pad of paper on the kitchen counter one day, along with the address. Apparently Dad or Simon had come down to check the place out for one reason or another. I walked down during lunch that day, and had found a place that I could mess around in.


    Slipping through the gap between the gate and the fence where the chain wasn¡¯t tied tightly enough (yay for being small and thin), I made my way over the lot to the door. Looking around briefly, I input the code in the security pad nearby. It beeped, and I opened the door to step inside.


    The place was dark, but the electricity still worked, so I flipped on the lights. It was¡­ a warehouse. Mostly it was a huge empty room, with random junk everywhere. Taking up about a quarter of the enormous space, opposite the door where I had come in, was where the contractors had done most of the work while they were active. It was an indoor skate park. Or part of one. They had a couple concrete ramps set up, a half pipe, a couple quarter pipes, and a large bowl right in the middle. The whole place had been intended to get kids (read: teenagers) off the streets. Apparently there was supposed to be an arcade, a separate area for younger children to play in like¡­ ballpits and stuff, and even tutoring.


    But right now, there was this: an enormous empty room with a partially-finished skate park. Worked for me. I¡¯d spent hours in here over the past couple of months, messing around. Whenever this place finally opened, if it did, it was going to be pretty amazing.


    Setting my bag down, I opened it up and dug inside for the regular clothes I¡¯d put in it. Quickly changing into the cargo pants and tee-shirt (doing so in a wide open room like this, even if I knew it was empty, still felt weird), I left the rest of the stuff in the bag for the moment. Instead, I walked over to the raised ramp nearby, muttering, ¡°Okay, superpowers. Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    Taking a breath, I extended one hand and focused. That small spinning orb appeared in front of my palm once again. It was blue, and, at a thought, a matching spray shot from it to hit the side of the ramp. Immediately, I gasped and stumbled back, staring that way. My voice was hushed, yet still echoed a bit in the mostly empty space. ¡°Oh my God, it still works.¡±


    Blue. Blue. That was the repelling or bouncy stuff. But I hadn¡¯t, like¡­ powered it or whatever that I was doing last night. To test that, I reached down to pick up a small rock from the floor, underhand tossing it toward the blue spot. Sure enough, it struck and just fell. Right.


    Taking out my phone, I strolled back and forth for a couple minutes, answering texts. Some of my friends back at school wanted to know where I was, so I said I needed a ¡®mental health day¡¯. Then I checked for any news stories about that motel once more, or even anything in a local blog. There were still none, but it helped pass the time.


    Finally, I looked over at the ramp. The spot was still there. It had been about five minutes. So the paint didn¡¯t disappear unless I actually powered it. And each color had a different result from being powered. Okay. Okay, I could follow that.


    To test it, I thought about the blue paint. I focused on it being powered up. It was hard to explain, but I felt a brief connection to it, like a spark. Then I tried throwing that little rock at it once more, winding up first before hurling the thing like a baseball.


    That time, when the rock hit the blue spot, it rocketed off. The thing rebounded violently, shooting past my face as I ducked before it shattered loudly off one of the other ramps.


    Slowly, I raised my head to stare at the blue paint. It vanished a second later, leaving the ramp blank once more. Then I turned to stare at the remains of the rock. ¡°Holy shit.¡±


    Okay, maybe I shouldn¡¯t throw the next rock so hard. Apparently the blue stuff magnified the force applied to it when sending it away again. Right.


    Next, I put a line of green paint on the ground. Once again, I tested it to make sure the stuff stayed as long as it wasn¡¯t powered. Satisfied, I focused on powering it. Then I ran through it.


    God damn. I¡¯d been in track, but I¡¯d never been that fast. It wasn¡¯t like¡­ super or anything, but it was definitely faster than I¡¯d ever run before. I made a longer line after that one disappeared and tested it, nearly running into the wall before stopping myself.


    Then I took my phone out and downloaded a speedometer app. Setting it up and making sure it seemed to work, I shoved the phone back in my pocket before drawing another green line, once again wide enough to run on.


    Cracking my neck to either side, I hopped up and down in a circle, psyching myself up. Standing near the line, I powered it while crouching into the ready position. At a mental starting gun, I took off, running as fast as I could. As I hit the paint, my speed suddenly boosted once more. That time, I really did run into the wall, though I slowed down enough that I was basically just hugging it at the end, laughing despite myself. What a rush.


    Then I checked my phone. Apparently I¡¯d been running about thirty miles an hour. Which might not sound like much for a car, but it was really fast for me. Holy shit.


    I tried to do it again, but I was only able to spray down about a quarter of the line before the paint just wouldn¡¯t come. It took about sixty seconds for me to be able to make more. So there was a cooldown on it. Last night, I had sprayed so much paint everywhere that first time that I¡¯d hit the limit right off.


    But wait a minute¡­ what if¡­


    Blinking down at my shoes, I raised one leg curiously. Pointing my hand at the bottom of the shoe, I sprayed green paint onto it. Then I did the same with the other shoe. As a test, I took a couple steps. The paint didn¡¯t leave any marks. So apparently even the non-powered stuff dried instantly.


    Once more, I powered the green paint, this time on my shoes. Then I tried running. It worked. I was fast. Damn, was I fast. Even if it only lasted for a short time. Curious about that, I timed it on my phone. Ten seconds. The paint lasted for ten seconds once it was powered.


    Of course, it didn¡¯t have to be on my shoes. I realized that belatedly, and tried spraying a bit of paint on my pants, my shirt, or even my arm. It all worked, making me move faster.


    For a few minutes, I just kept doing that. I would spray more paint on my shoes, then run as fast as I could until it ran out. It was fun, and it let me forget about all the really serious, horrible stuff I should have been focusing on.


    Yellow paint worked the opposite way. It slowed me down. Or whatever it touched. Right. Blue was bouncy, green was fast, yellow was slow. What was next?


    Red. The sticky/magnetic-type stuff that pulled things it was painted on together. To test that, I first picked up two discarded rocks, each about the size of a softball. Squirting a bit of red paint on both, I held them in front of me, then powered the paint.


    They were yanked out of my hands, slamming together before falling to the floor. Right on my foot, actually. Ow.


    Next I tested the distance. Making a red mark on one of the walls, I painted another mark on a rock and tried activating it starting from just a few feet away before making my way further and further back. In the end, I had no idea how far apart they could be, because even from one end of the warehouse to the other, it worked. The rock was pulled clear to the other end as soon as I activated the paint on it, though there was a slight delay of a second or two the further it had to go before the rock reacted.


    During the testing, I also figured out that I could paint multiple rocks red, and then activate them one at a time. Powering up one bit of paint didn¡¯t power all of it.


    Okay, so what did I know? The paint would stay as long as I wanted it to if I didn¡¯t activate its power. And it instantly dried. Green made things go fast. Yellow made things go slow. Blue repelled things. Red pulled them together.


    What about orange? That had been on the wall last night, but I never saw what it did.


    Curiously, I sprayed a bit of orange paint on the nearby wall and stared at it for a moment. Orange. What did it do? Shrugging, I focused on giving it power (whatever that power was), then reached out to touch it tentatively.


    Nothing. I didn¡¯t feel anything. It wasn¡¯t sticky, it didn¡¯t push me or pull me or¡­ anything me. I sprayed some on the floor and moved over it, first walking, then running, then hopping. I even tried sliding on it. It was just¡­ paint. The hell?


    Maybe I could prompt it to do something. Throwing several separate spots of orange paint on myself, I tried running around while activating one after another. I didn¡¯t feel any different during it. Moving to one of the discarded hunks of wall that had been left in the middle of the room, I tried to lift it. Nope, orange paint did not make me strong. Nor did it give me laser eyes, flight, or anything exotic like that. I tried jumping, doing cartwheels, even a handstand that made me feel ridiculous. Nothing.


    Then I got a little overly ambitious, walking too far upside down on my hands. I hit the edge of the skating bowl and lost my balance. With a yelp, I tipped over, already cringing inwardly as I fell. Ouch.


    Except¡­ not ouch. I landed hard in the bowl, but¡­ it didn¡¯t hurt. It didn¡¯t hurt at all. It was like falling backward onto my bed. What¡­?


    The orange paint. Curious again, I walked back up to the top of the bowl, looked around, and kicked the nearby ramp.


    Ow. That was dumb. But worth checking.


    More orange paint on my leg. I activated it once more, then kicked the ramp again.


    Nothing. Like, really nothing. It didn¡¯t hurt. That¡¯s what the orange paint did. It made things tough, or invulnerable, or¡­ something.


    Okay, add ¡®orange makes things tougher¡¯ to the list. I wasn¡¯t sure how tough yet, but that felt like something to be tested under better conditions.


    Now I knew what all the colors I¡¯d used last night did. But could I make any other colors? Moving back to the wall, I tried a bunch. Only four more actually did anything. Four more colors I didn¡¯t know. Pink, purple, black, and white.


    The white was easy to test. The second I tried powering it, the bit of paint lit up like a lightbulb. Okay, white paint glowed.


    Black was fairly easy too. I painted a rock with it and threw it, then I didn¡¯t hear anything. Even when it bounced off the wall, there was no sound. A little more testing confirmed, black silenced whatever it was on. I tried painting myself with it and screaming, only to hear no sound at all. It was creepy.


    White made things glow and black silenced them. That left pink and purple. What could they do?


    Purple, as it turned out, made me stronger. I wasn¡¯t sure how strong, of course. Mostly because I had no idea what the random junk lying around the partially remodeled warehouse actually weighed. But I could basically use one hand to lift the heaviest bit there, which had to be a few hundred pounds. That was pretty freaking cool, actually. I¡¯d always been small, so being able to pick up something that weighed as much as my entire bed and hurl it across the room was enough to make me laugh probably more than I should have.


    Purple made me strong. That left pink. I knew what all the rest did aside from that one. And no matter what I did, I could not figure it out. I tried for almost an hour, but it didn¡¯t seem to do anything.


    Okay, I¡¯d go back to that one. Pink was a question mark still. But I knew what red, orange, yellow, blue, green, black, purple, and white did. Which wasn¡¯t bad for a couple hours work.


    Heh. Wasn¡¯t bad. Wasn¡¯t bad? I had superpowers! I had freaking superpowers! I could run fast, I could pick up really heavy things, I could pull things together, or repel them, or silence them, or¡­ or¡­


    This was so fucking cool!


    For a little while, I forgot my whole family problem. I forgot everything else. I just played with the paint powers, spraying myself or the floor and running around. I sprayed blue paint in front of myself before jumping into the middle of it, sending myself flying over the ramp. Coming down, I sprayed a bit of orange paint on myself, before landing without any damage or pain.


    Then I tried something that was probably dumb. I put green paint on myself, and purple. Then I sprayed a blue circle onto the floor and moved away from it. Taking a breath, I activated the green paint and ran as fast as it let me, straight toward the circle. At the last second, I activated the purple paint to make myself stronger and leapt as high as that allowed. As I came down on the circle, I activated the blue paint there.


    Hoooooly shit. The next thing I knew, I was flying violently toward the far wall. And not just the wall, the top of it, near the ceiling, which was a good thirty feet up. Screaming despite myself as I hurtled straight toward the wall, I hurriedly sprayed a bit of orange onto my leg, activated it, and threw my hands in front of myself as the wall came rushing up.


    My scream died in my throat as I hit that wall. It didn¡¯t hurt. And¡­ and I didn¡¯t fall. Slowly, I opened my eyes, staring at my hands. Red. There was red paint on the wall. And¡­ on my hands? I¡¯d instinctively thrown red paint out just as I hit the wall. And now my hands were stuck there. My hands and my¡­ legs? Looking down, I saw my knees pressed against the wall, with a bit of red there as well. I was basically crouched against the wall, stuck there by red paint. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.


    Wait, it was only going to last¨C


    It stopped. The paint disappeared, and I fell. A scream tore its way from my throat, even as I slapped a hand against my own stomach, spraying orange and desperately activating it.


    It worked. I landed hard on my back, but it didn¡¯t hurt. Even falling from thirty feet up and landing on my back didn¡¯t hurt. I mean, I felt it, for sure. It felt a bit like being punched. But not that hard. And it sure didn¡¯t break anything like it definitely should have.


    For a couple minutes, I just laid there on my back, staring up at the spot on the wall where I had just been. I laid there, and my eyes slowly closed.


    ¡°My family are bad guys.¡± It came in a weak, trembling voice that I barely recognized as my own.


    ¡°What am I gonna do? What am I supposed to do?¡±


    Why would the cops believe me? Why would anyone believe me? I didn¡¯t have any proof, or¡­ or¡­


    That was it. Proof. That was what I needed.


    I was going to get proof that my parents and brother were bad guys. I was going to get proof, and take that¡­ not to the cops. To the Conservators or the Spartans, the federal or state-sponsored teams. I would get proof that they were doing bad things, that they¡­ that they killed people, and take it to the superheroes. They¡¯d know what to do with it. Maybe I could even meet Silversmith, the leader of the local Conservator group. He had basically been my favorite hero since I was a little kid. His power was an essentially unlimited supply of this liquid metal stuff that he turned into a suit, or weapons, or even vehicles. He conjured the stuff in liquid form, shaped it into what he needed, and then it solidified. When he was using it as a suit, it also made him incredibly strong, let him fly, and he could even go into space with it.


    Silversmith. That¡¯s what I needed to do. He¡¯d know what to do about my family. I just had to get proof and find a way to take it to him.


    Right, turning in my own family to the superheroes. That was the right thing to do. But¡­ but could I actually do that? They were my family, my mom and dad, my brother. They were my family. Could I really just¡­ betray them like that?


    And did the fact that I was hesitating mean that I was just as bad as they were?

 Discovery 1-04

    I had to know more. More about my family¡¯s¡­ business, about all the bad things they were into. I had to know. That was the only way I was going to be able to go through with turning them in. I had to find out just how bad they were, just how deep they were into these things. Showing myself the kind of¡­ of evil they¡¯d done, the kind of evil they would keep doing, was the only way I¡¯d be able to psych myself up to turn them in.


    Which worked, since I needed proof anyway. There was no way I¡¯d go to any authorities, cops, Touched, or anyone else just with my own word. A sixteen-year old kid tells them that one of the richest and most important businessmen in the newly rebuilt Detroit was a bad guy? No thanks.


    So, proof. I needed proof. Which meant I needed a plan to get that proof. That was¡­ a work in progress. Progress that was eventually stalled by the end of the school day.


    I had spent the rest of that time alternating between trying to decide how to get the proof that I needed and practicing with these paint-powers. Of course, ¡®practicing¡¯ had devolved to playing with them pretty quick. But tomayto, tomahto. It also killed a third bird by helping me clear my head a little bit from all the horrible, horrible things that I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about.


    I had a few hours to add to that distraction between the end of school and family dinner, which everyone was expected to be at every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday unless you were literally dead or in the hospital. It was Tuesday and I didn¡¯t have an excuse (or at least not one that I could actually tell them about), so I had to be there.


    But before that happened, I would distract myself from the upcoming nightmare by hiding in my room and looking up information about the various gangs in the city. Specifically, which of them was currently claiming or working the most in the area of the city where that motel was. It might give me an idea of what group my family was involved with. Or running, for all I knew.


    On the way to my room, however, I was stopped by Jania. The maid was standing in front of me, a curious look on her face. ¡°Ah, Miss Evans,¡± she started. ¡°A message came from your school today, about you.¡±


    Freezing briefly, I stared at her like a rabbit in headlights for an instant before getting myself under control. ¡°Uh¨Cit did?¡±


    She nodded, a clearly knowing look on her face. ¡°Yes, they asked that the message be passed along to your mother or father.¡± There was a brief moment of silence before she continued in a lamenting voice. ¡°¡­ but I seem to have forgotten to write it down. And with my memory¡­ well, I am getting old. I don¡¯t suppose you know what the message was?¡±


    Staring at the woman, I hesitated before slowly shaking my head.


    ¡°Hm,¡± Jania pondered briefly before nodding. ¡°Well, if you do recall, I trust you will inform them yourself.¡±


    Again, I nodded, staring at her before hurriedly making my way past and to my room. There, I tried to throw myself into figuring out exactly who my family might be working with.


    Dad wasn¡¯t a small-time player. I knew that just from his personality and resources, let alone everything I¡¯d heard last night. He was big. So I had no doubt that whatever he was into, it would have to have something to do with one of the established criminal groups. And since this was Detroit, that meant one of the Fell-Gangs.


    Fell-Gangs. That¡¯s what they called groups that were led by Fell-Touched, Touched who were villains. There were still gangs who weren¡¯t controlled or even populated by Touched, of course. But they tended to either stay small or not get very far when put up against actual Fell-Gangs. And if I knew my dad at all, he would be involved with one of Detroit¡¯s Fell-Gangs. Probably working as their main financer or something. Maybe that was why Simon was important enough to throw orders and threats around like that, because Dad paid their bills. I could see that.


    I knew who most of the Fell-gangs around the city were, of course. You had to, if you lived in the area. But it was still good to get a refresher. The gangs changed often enough, by merging, falling apart, taking each other over by force, splitting up, or just plain dying, that I really needed to look up exactly what things looked like now.


    There were smaller groups of Fell-gangs that were just a few people, or even individuals. I ignored those. Dad wouldn¡¯t be involved in anything that inconsequential. He had the money and influence to be part of a bigger group, one that could actually do some damage.


    For Detroit, that left seven possibilities right off the bat. Seven that were large enough for Dad to be involved with.


    First up, Oscuro. They weren¡¯t exactly likely, to say the least. Oscuro was the Hispanic street gang, led by a Fell-Touched who called himself Cu¨¦lebre. Like the monster he was named after, Cu¨¦lebre was basically a dragon. Or so people said. Standing at anywhere between twelve and fifteen feet tall, complete with bat-like wings and a bladed tail, he looked more like a demon than a dragon as far as I was concerned, but whatever. For awhile some people had thought that he was actually one of the Abyssal. Those were¡­ Touched that went wrong. I didn¡¯t really like to think about them. No one did. The point was, Cu¨¦lebre definitely wasn¡¯t one of them, because he still communicated and showed restraint. Abyssals¡­ didn¡¯t.


    In any case, Dad wouldn¡¯t be working with Oscuro. They did a lot of stuff with drugs and weapons, which he could have made money off of, but they didn¡¯t work with anyone who wasn¡¯t one of them. Dad wasn¡¯t Latino, so they wouldn¡¯t have anything to do with him.


    Then there was a group who called themselves Braintrust. Their leadership was basically a mixture of mad scientist/inventor types and people with charm or luck powers. And, of course, their assortment of minions and thugs, both of the living and robot variety.


    Braintrust got into a lot of things, between needing to take in absurd amounts of money to keep their experiments going, to stealing material for those experiments, to just plain causing havoc with those experiments. There wasn¡¯t much they wouldn¡¯t do, and Dad definitely might have been working with them. They always needed money, which was basically his superpower.


    Almost as unlikely as Oscuro would be the group called Sherwood. They were basically hippies and nature-fanatics who had named their organization after the forest from Robin Hood. Most of them hated technology, and they were always trying to destroy or stall it. So yeah, given how much Dad put toward the manufacturing industry¡­ I couldn¡¯t see them working together.


    Then there were the Scions of Typhon, or Scions for short. Typhon was one of the first named Abyssal, a monstrously destructive beast who still showed up to wreak havoc every now and then. His ¡®Scions¡¯ were basically anarchy-loving chaos worshippers who reveled in causing as much destruction and misery as possible, under the guise of making everyone have ¡®fun¡¯. As far as I knew (and could find online), they had no real alliance or even interaction with the actual Typhon, they just used the name for shock value. Still, I couldn¡¯t see Dad getting along with them. They were too wild and unpredictable.


    That left three possibilities, three more groups who were large enough for my family to be working with. The first were Oscuro¡¯s primary rivals, another street gang called Easy Eights, a collection of what had been eight individual gangs who banded together to stand against Oscuro. They amounted to basically every street gangster who wasn¡¯t hispanic or a supremacist of whatever race they happened to be. There were gangs like that, white supremacists for example, but they tended to get smacked down pretty quick either by Oscuro or the Easy Eights.


    I could see my father supplying for the Easy Eights. They were thugs, but they knew enough to organize and kept themselves together. They were an option, at least.


    The next group called themselves Ninety-Niners. Basically, they were a group of people who either lived here before the year 1999, or whose family did if they weren¡¯t born yet. They saw people who moved here after that year, when Touched started to be a thing and Detroit was brought back from the brink as freeloaders or intruders. They hated them, and used the word ¡®tourist¡¯ (incredibly derogatory to them) to refer to anyone who didn¡¯t have firm family history in the city during the so-called bad years.


    Dad¡­ hadn¡¯t lived here his whole life. But he did grow up here and he had family history in the city. So I was pretty sure he¡¯d be in their good graces. But I didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d work with them or not. They were a maybe.


    One last group out of those I thought were big enough for Dad to have any business with. And this one was probably the most likely. They were known as La Casa, Italian for The House. La Casa were basically the mafia for Detroit, though they didn¡¯t only take Italian people or anything. That was just how they started out. Nowadays, if you could bring something they wanted, you could get in, at least at the foot soldier level. And if you came as a Touched, you could get into the leadership. As their name kind of implied, all their people used names that were in some way related to gambling or card games.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    It hadn¡¯t exactly escaped my notice that Mom was Italian. La Casa were controlled and coordinated enough that I could definitely see Dad working with them if he was going to work with any bad guys.


    So those were the seven possibilities I could see, from my memory and from a little research. Oscuro, Braintrust, Sherwood, Scions of Typhon, Easy Eights, Ninety-Niners, and La Casa. Of those, I only really saw Braintrust, Easy Eights, and the Ninety-Niners as possible, and La Casa as the most likely. Oscuro wouldn¡¯t work with people who weren¡¯t Latino, Sherwood hated technology, and the Scions were too unpredictable.


    Of course, I still hadn¡¯t figured out what to do with my suspicions by the time the dinner chime rang through the house. Mom had insisted that every room have the chime installed. In addition to the noise itself, the lights would flicker on and off to get your attention if you were using headphones. Two chimes and two flickers meant it was time for dinner, or whatever meal. Three meant it was a family meeting or some kind of activity. Four or more, or even continuous, was an emergency.


    Summoned by the two chimes, I started to move to my door automatically, even going as far as to open it. Then I stopped short. For a moment, I just stared at the hallway beyond the door and tried not to hyperventilate. How was I supposed to do this? What was I supposed to do, just¡­ just¡­ sit at that dinner table with my family like nothing was wrong when I knew they were¡­ they were¡­ bad? Dad, Mom, Simon, they were all involved with at least two murders that I knew of. And given how Mom and Simon had been acting, I was absolutely positive that it was more than that. It was old hand to them, nothing new. They had almost certainly been responsible for a lot more deaths than that.


    And now I just had to sit there and eat food with them like I didn¡¯t know?! How?! How was I going to do that without staring at them the whole time?


    They¡¯d know. They¡¯d take one look at me, one look at my face, and know that I knew. Mom would glance my way and then immediately say ¡®you were the witness last night, weren¡¯t you, Principessa?¡± And I would fold instantly.


    No, no, no. I couldn¡¯t do it. I couldn¡¯t sit down there with them.


    Unfortunately, just as I decided that, Simon came past. I wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing over here since his room was one floor up and on the other side of the house. But he passed my door, reached in, and caught my arm. ¡°C¡¯mon, Booster, you know how Mom gets if she has to chime for us more than once.¡±


    Booster. It was the nickname that Simon had come up with years ago, when I was still a kid. It referred to when I had to use a booster seat whenever we went out, because I was so short. Which was just so incredibly hilarious.


    ¡°Oh, uhh¡­¡± I really tried not to flinch too much, even as my skin crawled violently under his touch. ¡°I¡¯m not really that hungry, so¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t,¡± Simon cajoled, dragging my protesting form out of my room and down the hall. ¡°You¡¯re not abandoning me to keep Mom and Dad company. Have you seen how testy she is today? Hell no. I¡¯m not putting up with that and her being pissed that you¡¯re not at dinner. It¡¯s Tuesday and you¡¯re not in the hospital or the morgue. You¡¯re coming.¡±


    Nothing I could say would have changed anything. And I couldn¡¯t find my voice anyway. I was too busy remembering what I¡¯d heard last night, when he had shot one of his own men. Or one of our dad¡¯s own men. Whatever. I remembered the sound of his voice, the way he¡¯d spoken to those guys. It made me shiver inwardly, and I nearly stopped short in the hallway.


    But Simon kept pulling me down the stairs and over to the dining room. Or one of them, anyway. We didn¡¯t use the main dining room for these little dinners. That place could seat thirty people and we would¡¯ve needed a megaphone to speak from one end to the other.


    Instead, we ate in the secondary dining room. The table in there ¡®only¡¯ seated ten, and we all sat at one end. Dad sat at the end seat, Mom to his right, and Simon to his left. I sat next to Mom.


    Our parents were already waiting as we got there. Seeing them, I felt my blood go cold. My body went straight into autopilot, moving me to my seat beside my mother even as I struggled to keep my expression as neutral as possible. I couldn¡¯t think about what I¡¯d seen and heard last night. But I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about it.


    My mom was bad enough. I loved my mother. Seeing her there, I couldn¡¯t help but think about what she¡¯d done last night, what she¡¯d proven she knew. The image of her smacking Simon with the shoe jumped into my head, and I jolted just a little, my eyes flicking to the man beside her.


    My father was basically movie star handsome. He wore his ever-present dark turtleneck and white slacks. Dark blonde hair with just a little bit of gray to make him look even more distinguished, a chiseled jaw and deep blue eyes that seemed to stare right into my soul. I¡¯d had so many friends basically fall in love with my dad that I¡¯d lost count of them. Him or Simon. It used to make me want to throw things either at my friends or my brother and father. But these days I just let it roll off me.


    Or I had. Because that thought was a mistake. The thought of my friends pining (or worse) after my brother, let alone my father, was enough to bring tears of shame and revulsion to my eyes about what I knew.


    My daddy. My daddy hurt people.


    ¡°Aww, is something wrong, my little Principessa?¡± Mom gently teased, her hand finding its way to my shoulder to squeeze. I thought again of the way she had smacked Simon across the face with the shoe because he¡¯d dared bring a piece of evidence back to the house. She knew what it was evidence of. She knew that those men had been murdered. My mother¡­ my mother knew. The woman who sang me lullabies, who called me her princess specifically because I was self-conscious about being called a little boy so much, was perfectly fine with people being executed in cold blood. How could I handle that? How could I reconcile it with how I knew her?


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± That was Dad, his voice cutting through my panicked, rambling thoughts. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    My eyes snapped over once more, and I stared for just a second before finding my voice. ¡°Err, nothing, I just¡­ um, I have to¡­ meet Rachel later,¡± I mumbled. ¡°We¡¯re going shopping.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let her keep you out too late,¡± Mom ordered before reaching out to pick up a little silver bell. She gave it a single ring, and before she had set it down, the nearby door opened. Ethan and Christiana, two of Chef Claudio¡¯s assistants, emerged carrying a couple covered trays.


    Once the food was delivered, Claudio was there at the edge of the table, taking his usual time to inform us of exactly what we were about to eat. Mom and Dad were listening intently and nodding along, while I just stared across the table at Simon, who was texting on his phone with a furrowed brow.


    Mom noticed it just as Claudio left, reaching over with her spoon to smack his hand. ¡°Simon Leonardo Evans, you know the rules. No phones. Put it down.¡±


    He did so, looking over at our dad while clearly putting the phone in his lap so he could continue to surreptitiously look at it. ¡°I gotta go pick up that thing tonight.¡±


    ¡°What time is it coming in?¡± Dad asked.


    ¡°Ten,¡± Simon answered before taking a bite from the plate that had been put in front of him.


    I was staring down at my own plate, trying as hard as I could to look like I wasn¡¯t listening. Fork. I had to put food on my fork. Gripping it tightly, I moved my shaking fork to the plate to take a bite without actually tasting it. What thing did Simon have to go pick up? Was it a normal thing or a bad thing?


    I had to find out. Which meant I had to be there. But I didn¡¯t know where ¡®there¡¯ was, and I couldn¡¯t exactly ask him. What was I supposed to do?


    Look at his phone. I needed to see the messages. It was in his lap, and he kept glancing down to keep track of the messages coming in. How could I look at it though? How¡­ how¡­ how¡­?


    I had an idea. Quickly draining the milk from my glass, I slipped my own phone from my pocket and switched the camera on, setting it to record with a single glance down. Then I stood up to fill my glass once more from the pitcher on the nearby serving table. On the way, I moved behind Simon and, with a deep breath, forced myself to wrap an arm around him while setting my chin on his shoulder. ¡°Oh wonderful, lovely, perfect, brave, amazing big brother¡­¡± I started in a sing-song voice even as my entire body tried to turn itself inside out in revulsion.


    Eyes rolling, Simon turned his head a bit to look at me. ¡°What do you want, Booster?¡±


    Ignoring the taunting nickname, I asked, ¡°Would you drop me off at the mall after dinner?¡±


    He sighed, making a big production out of it before shrugging. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯ve got stuff to do anyway. You need a ride home?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get her started with that,¡± Dad groaned, teasing me the same way he would have any other night. ¡°She¡¯ll start in on driving herself, again.¡±


    ¡°After she passes drivers ed,¡± Mom quickly put in, shaking her spoon at me. ¡°Don¡¯t let me catch you practicing without Jefferson or Simon in the car, young lady.¡±


    I straightened, making myself pout a little before moving to pour my glass as I informed Simon that I had another way home.


    Chuckling easily, just as personable as I had ever known him to be, Dad pointed a spoon at me. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, Daydreamer. Another couple months and you¡¯ll be driving yourself all over the place. And I may have a little surprise for just that occasion.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re good,¡± Mom cut in, giving Dad a brief look whose silent message was to stop spoiling me.


    While they whispered briefly in the same tone I had come to associate with my parents play-fighting/flirting, I set my phone on the serving table, replaying the video I had just taken. With the sound off, of course.


    There. I¡¯d been holding the phone in my hand under the table, waving it around in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Simon¡¯s phone in the recording. There it was. Pausing it, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to me before squinting at the thing. I could barely make out an address in Simon¡¯s message history. That had to be where he was going tonight, since I also saw whoever he was talking to saying ¡®should b there b4 10.¡¯ Then there was a message from Simon about what would happen if they screwed up, but I couldn¡¯t read the whole thing thanks to the angle my camera had caught the message. I was kind of okay with that, though. I had no desire to see my brother threaten someone again. And at least I knew where he was going.


    Which meant it was also where I was going. Because I had to see what was going on out there, what Simon was picking up and whether it had anything to do with their¡­ activities.


    But first, I had to make sure no one would recognize me. And that meant I needed a disguise. Or, more to the point¡­


    I needed a costume.

 Discovery 1-05

    I didn¡¯t exactly have a costume sitting around my (rather expansive) closet. Well, okay, I did have several costumes from various parties and holidays. But nothing like what I needed now. And I wasn¡¯t going to assemble something out of what was there, mostly because there was too much chance of one of the maids recognizing the stuff later if they saw it. There was a lot of stuff so the chance wasn¡¯t that great. But still, I wasn¡¯t going to risk it.


    So I needed something new. Which was why I¡¯d asked Simon to take me to the mall. It got me out of the house, which was a huge plus as far as I was concerned right then, and I could do a little shopping around to put something together that would ensure Dad and Simon didn¡¯t recognize me if they saw me while I was spying on them.


    Not that I had really decided what I was going to do yet. Finding proof of what my family was up to and taking it to Silversmith was basically my only plan. And even that I wasn¡¯t entirely sure about. I kept asking myself if it was really right to turn my own family in. They were my family.


    But then I would think about the two people I¡¯d seen those guys execute on what was clearly my brother¡¯s orders, and probably my dad¡¯s too. I thought about what they deserved, whoever they were. Did they deserve to just die without the people responsible for it being brought to justice? Did their families deserve that? Because they had families too. It wasn¡¯t just about me.


    No. Whatever the rest of my family was into, I had to do something about it. I had to find out more and¡­  go from there. And the first step toward doing that was putting a costume together.


    Carrying a bag with my pace-skates (I hadn¡¯t wanted Simon to recognize that I was wearing them) and a few other things in it over one shoulder, I made my way through the mall. But I wasn¡¯t planning on buying anything there. There was too much of a chance that wherever I bought it from would have records, cameras, people who remembered me, and so on. I wasn¡¯t going to risk it. Instead, I found an ATM and withdrew a few hundred dollars, then went to the food court, had a milkshake, and doodled on a notepad as I thought up various ideas and thoughts.


    But no amount of doodling would accomplish anything until I could see what was available. So, after about twenty minutes of that,  I left the mall. On the way out, I reached into my bag and took out my lone remaining shoe from the night before, the one whose partner was with Simon. With a soft sigh, I tossed the shoe into the garbage can by the exit before heading out. Pulling my pace-skates from the bag and putting them on then, I tapped the heels together to bring out the wheels before starting to skate across the parking lot and down the street.


    My destination was a few blocks away. I only knew about it because one of my friends at school, Tae, had to work there for a few months about a year earlier as some kind of community service thing. Some of us had gone down there to visit them, and ended up donating some things.


    Yeah, it was a second-hand goods store, like Goodwill. They had basically everything in there. And best of all, they were cheap enough that they didn¡¯t use cameras. They had them, but according to Tae, they never worked. That coupled with the fact that all the employees were bored and didn¡¯t care that much basically meant I could be pretty sure that even if someone came asking about the things I bought later, they wouldn¡¯t get that much information about me.


    It was the best I could do, anyway. So I skated my way up to the place in question, clicking my heels to switch back to ordinary shoes, and walked inside.


    ¡°Leave your bag by the door,¡± the old woman reading a magazine by the checkout stand absently told me before flipping a page. She only glanced up enough to see that I was holding one, her response so automatic that I wasn¡¯t sure she even recognized that she had said it.


    I did, setting my bag down there before grabbing a shopping cart as I made my way back to look through the aisles. The place wasn¡¯t very busy, considering it was a weeknight and they were closing in another hour. Still, I tried not to look at anyone without looking like I was trying not to look at anyone.


    Yeah, I probably looked ridiculous. Eventually, I made my way to their sporting goods aisle. There was a lot of stuff all jumbled up there, even a few things that looked promising, but ended up not fitting me.


    Then I found it. ¡®It¡¯, in this case, was a set of white motorcycle coveralls. Basically it was a jumpsuit with a bit more padding. I took the jumpsuit into the nearby dressing area and tried it on. It fit, somehow miraculously. It was a little baggy, but tight around the wrists and ankles, so it wouldn¡¯t trip me up or anything.


    Since I was already in the sports aisle, I added a set of knee and elbow pads, also white. Then I looked around a bit more. It took another few minutes, and I was about to give up on finding anything I actually liked. But then I saw something glinting in the light down in the bottom corner of one of the shelves, and reached down to move a pile of old jerseys out of the way.


    Oh God, it was perfect. It was a helmet. Like, a motorcycle helmet. But this one was modular. Basically, it looked like a full motorcycle helmet with the part covering the mouth and chin, the dark visor, and all that. But with this one, the part covering the mouth could flip up to the top of the helmet, uncovering the face aside from the black visor, which stayed where it was. So with the front of the helmet flipped down, my entire face would be covered. With the front flipped up, just the top half, including my eyes and down over part of my nose, would be.


    This was it. This was what I wanted, what I needed. The helmet was red, but I could take care of that. I took the helmet, adding it to my cart.


    Coveralls, helmet, knee and elbow pads, what else? I went through the winter stuff and took out a ski mask, checking it over a bit. I already had the helmet, but if I lost that, my face would still be covered. Worth it. Definitely worth it.


    Along with the mask, I added a pair of thin gloves. Then I started putting more things in the cart. I didn¡¯t really care what they were, I just wanted to cover up everything else that I was buying so it didn¡¯t immediately stand out. I threw a bunch more random stuff in there, toys, games, more clothes, a few shoes, and so on. Then I went to the checkout stand.


    The lady there raised an eyebrow at how much stuff I had, which was a point I hadn¡¯t considered until that moment. Still, I kept my head down while trying to be as pleasant, yet unmemorable as possible. I passed the money along, let her count and check it, then took my bags and left with a few mumbled words about having a good night.


    Once I was outside, I looked around before checking my phone. I still had an hour before the meeting was supposed to happen. So, I took my bags and hauled them around the back of the store. Abandoning the rest of the stuff that I didn¡¯t actually need at the donation box for the store I had just bought them from, I took the rest in a couple bags and kept going until I reached an alley a couple blocks away. The whole place was empty and quiet at this time, so I could quickly do what I needed to without being interrupted.


    First, I made the helmet (aside from the visor), the ski mask, and the gloves all white to match the coveralls. As far as I¡¯d been able to tell, the color would stay unless I actually powered it up into the whole glowing flashlight stuff. It also dried instantly, which was useful.


    After giving a quick glance around, I changed clothes into the coveralls. Sliding them on, I zipped the thing up and jumped up and down a couple times before leaning one way, then the other to test the range of motion. It all felt good. Adding the knee and elbow pads, I tested it again. Still okay. Then I tugged on the ski mask and tucked it under the collar of the coveralls before slipping my hands into the gloves.


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    Finally, I picked up the helmet and put it on my head, sliding the visor down over my eyes, then the whole front plate. Now I basically looked like a dirtbike rider or something, wearing a white jumpsuit and safety protection. I didn¡¯t look like a superhero, I looked like a stunt driver. A male stunt driver, given my general luck.


    But whatever, this was good enough. And it would hide my identity, which was the whole point.


    Putting the rest of my clothes in my bag, I hid it behind a nearby dumpster before checking my phone. Right, time to call a¡­


    Wait.


    Shit. I couldn¡¯t call an Uber or a taxi like this! What the hell was I thinking? It might just stand out a little bit. And I couldn¡¯t even quickly change back to normal clothes to get a ride, because that would still put me near the scene if they checked records or anything later. I¡¯d already risked that enough with the ride last night. Taking this one would¡­ yeah. I had to get there another way.


    Skating. I was going to have to skate, taking the back alleys as much as I could to avoid crowds. At least my costume looked simple enough that it wouldn¡¯t instantly make people point and say ¡®Touched¡¯. I would attract some looks, but (hopefully) not a huge crowd.


    Slipping my pace-skates on, I used the voice code to pop out the wheels, shifted my bag on my shoulder, and took off. Skating out of the alley, I crossed the street around a couple cars, hopped the curb, and went through the next alley over on my way to Simon¡¯s meeting point.


    Too slow. I needed to be faster, or I¡¯d miss the whole damn thing. Hurry up, Cassidy!


    Right, I could be faster. I just needed to use my green paint. Pointing a hand down at one my skates, I started to summon my power¡­ when my skate suddenly turned green all on its own.


    Wait, what? I was so startled by that, I actually lost my balance and, with a yelp, went sprawling across the ground. Owww. At least I was in the alley so no one saw.


    Rolling over, I stared down at the skate. It was still green. How¨Cwhat¨Chuh?


    Thinking about it for a second, I squinted intently at the skate and thought, red, red, red.


    It worked. The pace-skate turned red. My eyes widened and I covered my mouth. Then I looked at my arm and focused once more. Blue circle. Blue circle. Blue circle.


    A blue circle appeared on my arm. It worked. It worked! I tried it a couple more times sitting there in the alley. I couldn¡¯t just make color appear everywhere, but I could do so on anything I was wearing. I had to spray paint at anything else, but I could make whatever I was actually wearing turn various colors with just a thought. Holy shit, this was useful. This was¨C


    Late. I was going to be late! With a yelp, I scrambled to my feet. Then I looked down at my skates. Green.


    Both turned green, and I activated the one on the right while pushing off. Suddenly skating a hell of a lot faster (I had no idea exactly how fast, but if I could run about thirty miles an hour when it was activated, skating had to be even more of a boost), I blew past a crowd of very confused pedestrians, narrowly avoided a car in the street that blared its horn at me, and kept on going. Despite myself, a loud whoop escaped me that I immediately felt embarrassed about as the boost wore off and my skate turned back to its normal color, almost as if it was embarrassed too.


    Then I remembered that no one knew who I was. So I activated the green paint on my other shoe and took off again. As I all-but flew through a parking lot next to a fast food joint, I raised my fists and gave a loud yell. Oh my God, that felt good. For a few seconds, I forgot about what I was actually doing and just skated. The paint on that shoe wore off, but I just quickly recolored them with a thought and took off again.


    I didn¡¯t use the boost constantly, just enough to keep me going so I wouldn¡¯t miss Simon completely. Taking back alleys and side streets, and keeping track of my progress on the maps app of my phone, I skated my way to the address.


    It was an old used car lot. When I was still a couple blocks away, I slowed and coasted behind an empty doctor¡¯s office. Then I looked down at myself. Bright white. That was probably a bad idea.


    But now I knew what to do about it! With a thought, I turned my entire outfit completely black. From the top of the helmet down to my pace-skates, all of it went dark. There, that was better.


    With that done, I checked the map on my phone once more, zooming in before heading around the building the doctor¡¯s office was in. Shifting the skates back to shoes, I climbed the fence there, dropping off the other side before making my way past a few more buildings.


    Finally, I reached the back of the car lot. The place was dark, the big overhead lights that were meant to show off the cars shut down, either to save power or to hide whatever was actually going on there tonight.


    There was also a larger fence in the way, this one topped by barbed wire. I wasn¡¯t going to be able to just climb over it.


    So, I took a few steps back and hyped myself up while spraying out a bit of blue paint into a circle at the base of the fence. Taking a quick look around, I whispered to myself, ¡°You can do this. You can do this. Just jump. You did it earlier. No big deal.¡±


    Before I could chicken out, I took a running start and jumped onto the blue circle. It propelled me up and over the fence, as I actually cried out. Thankfully, I was smart enough to activate a bit of the black paint on one of my shoes to silence myself. Which also silenced my landing as I half-sprawled between two SUV¡¯s with prices painted across their hoods.


    Footsteps. Someone was coming. Hurriedly, I rolled under the nearest car, watching with wide eyes while someone walked past. Carefully poking my head out, I saw a man in a suit with close-cropped black hair. More importantly, I saw the gun he was holding. I wasn¡¯t exactly an expert, but it looked like some kind of submachine gun held loosely in one hand, like he didn¡¯t actually expect any trouble.


    But relaxed or not, the guy was still holding a gun. An actual gun, just like the guys who had shot at me last night. And as I watched, the man met up with another guy dressed the same way holding a gun of his own. They were clearly patrolling the lot.


    What the hell was Simon involved with here?


    ¡°We good?!¡±


    As if in answer to my question, my brother¡¯s voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts, as he came out of the nearby sales office. Simon, just like the other guys, carried a gun. In his case, it was a pistol of some kind. He was looking to the men who had just met up.


    ¡°All good!¡± One of them called back with a wave. ¡°Lot¡¯s clear.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Simon announced. ¡°Keep it that way.¡± Then he took a radio from his belt, held it up, and ordered, ¡°Bring them in.¡±


    A few seconds later, a car approached from around the corner. It slowed before parking near Simon, and two men got out. Seeing them, my eyes went even wider than they had already been. Because I recognized them. Or rather, I recognized the symbols on their clothes. Both of them wore ragged old jeans full of holes and random leather jackets. Nothing unusual. But on the back of each jacket was the symbol of the numeral 8. Behind the 8 was a letter E, with the ends of the latter poking through the holes in the former so they were almost on top of each other, interlocked that way.


    It was the symbol of the Easy Eight¡¯s, the collection of street gangs that had allied together to stand up against Oscuro. They were the ones Dad was working with?


    Oh, right. Evidence. Digging into my pocket, I took out my phone and held it up to start to record a video of what was happening.


    ¡°You got it?¡± Simon asked, standing there expectantly as the two men moved around to the back of the car. I shifted a bit, trying to keep the camera from my phone on them the whole time.


    And then a hand caught hold of my arm. I let out a surprised yelp, almost dropping my phone as I was yanked out from under the car and dropped onto my back.


    Two-Step. It was him, the Touched mercenary from last night whose power let him create a semi-solid duplicate of himself that copied everything he did. He stood above me in his black slacks, red turtleneck, and black leather jacket, his face covered by a combination of a red scarf over the lower half and a bandana over his head, leaving only his eyes exposed. The same red bat he¡¯d had the night before was pointed down at me. ¡°Well, well, well,¡± he drawled. ¡°What do we have here?¡±


    All around me, other men were appearing. Simon was pointing his gun at me, as were several other guys in suits. Even the two Easy Eight thugs were aiming their own weapons my way.


    Ummm¡­.


    Shit.

 Discovery 1-06

    In that moment, I acted faster than I ever had in my life. Apparently fear was one hell of a motivator. Even as Simon started to say something, my hands moved. One I pointed above my head and behind me at the two Easy Eight thugs. The other I pointed down and forward past my stomach toward the two guys who stood with my brother. Red paint shot from both of my hands to cover the guns that they all held. An instant later, the guns were torn from all four of their grasps as I activated the power in the paint.


    The guns flew to meet each other in the middle, right where Two-Step was standing. He had to jerk and duck out of the way as they collided in the air right above me before starting to fall. They would have fallen on top of me, but I snapped my hand out to the side, shot another bit of red paint out to hit a car nearby, and made my glove red as well. The power yanked me off the ground and sent me flying to the car. I collided with it hand first hard enough to send a shock through me. Ow. I should have used orange paint too. Dammit.


    Apparently I also should have used green paint to speed myself up. Because before I could get my bearings, Two-Step was already there. One of his hands caught my neck and shoved me down over the car hood while the other found its way to the middle of my back to keep me there.


    He started to say something, but I quickly shifted my whole costume to blue and activated it. The paint sent the man flying backward away from me with a cry of surprise.


    Unfortunately, at the same time, the car I was leaning over slid away as well, leaving me to fall onto my hands and knees with a grunt. Shit, I should have just made my back blue, which would have used less paint too.


    The guys were recovering, and Simon was spinning toward me. Lastword had also appeared and was moving to involve himself. Shit, shit, shit. I had to get out of there. I had to get the hell out. Shoving myself over to face the guys coming after me, I threw my arms out into a wide wave, sending a bunch of yellow paint flying. Most of it struck randomly everywhere, but a bit got on almost everyone, slowing them down considerably. Almost everyone, that was, aside from Lastword, who created some kind of force field in front of himself that the paint got stuck on.


    I was already running, using that time to scramble back to my feet and take off. Unfortunately, Simon and all those guys were between me and the exit. I had to run deeper into the car lot, toward the auto shop garage. I could get out the other side, I just had to run all the way through.


    Then something invisible struck me hard in the back, and I went sprawling. With a grunt of pain, I rolled over just in time to see Lastword creating another force field with one hand, which he sent flying at me with a quick push. That was what had struck me. He could do more than just make force fields, he could also send them flying around. Great.


    Was it wrong that if I had just been watching, I would have thought this whole thing was really cool? I was being attacked by superpowers. I was using superpowers! This whole thing should have been awesome.


    It was terrifying.


    Shifting the front of my costume to orange, I threw my hands up in front of my face just as the forcefield struck home. It did almost nothing, dissipating against me. I felt the impact, of course, but it was akin to a light shove.


    Then I was on my feet. As my costume shifted back to its base white, I made a little bit of green paint appear on my chest. It was shaped like a hand with an upraised middle finger, pointed right at Lastword.


    Juvenile? Yeah. Worth it? Definitely.


    Besides, it served a purpose. At that point, it was probably all the paint I could manage, and I used it to speed myself up, spinning around to run away again with Lastword, Two-Step, Simon, and the rest of the bad guys right on my heels. They were taller than me, and had longer legs. But I ran track, and had my ten second speed boost for a head start.


    It was going to be close. I had to do something to give myself more of an edge. Then I remembered what I was wearing. Glancing down, I smacked my heels together to bring the wheels out on my pace-skates.


    A gun shot rang out. Then another. They were shooting at me! The shots weren¡¯t coming anywhere close, but they were still shooting at me! And I didn¡¯t know if I could make any more paint for the moment. Go! I had to go!


    More importantly, I had to get out of sight before they actually hit me. Adjusting my course as I skated across the lot, I ducked low, rolling under the partially open door of the auto shop. I could hear a couple more shots pinging off the wall, and a sob of terror escaped me before I could stop it.


    I fell forward onto my hands once in the garage, before shoving myself back up. They were still coming, but I wasn¡¯t trapped in here. There were doors at either end. My hand snapped out to hit the button that closed the door behind me, and I skated to the other side.


    Thankfully, this side was open too. Behind me, I heard shouting to go around, even as something heavy and powerful slammed into the door I had closed, denting it inward. It hit the door again, almost taking it right off the frame. Lastword. He was either hitting the door with his forcefield thing, or using some other power. Either way, in about one more hit, it was going to be down.


    I kept skating, throwing myself out through the open garage door and across the lot toward the far side of the lot. Behind me, I heard the pounding footsteps of guys coming around the side of the garage, as well as the loud clanging of the door being knocked in. They were all coming.


    I skated faster. It felt as though ten minutes had passed since I last used my paint, but it was probably more like ten seconds. I had to wait. I had to keep moving. I had to get the hell out of there!


    What the hell was I thinking? I should just tell Simon who I was. He wouldn¡¯t kill me, or let them do so. Right?


    It was a mixture of my own fear and my revulsion at the thought of looking Simon in the face while knowing everything I did that drove me onward. I heard shouting behind me as they all met up on the side of the garage and kept after me. They weren¡¯t just going to let me escape. Especially now that they knew I had powers. Thankfully, I was pretty sure they didn¡¯t know exactly how they worked, or how low I was running.


    Nearing the fence, I skated between two vehicles and prayed to God that I¡¯d waited long enough to use more paint. My hands stretched out, shooting a puddle of beautiful, beautiful blue right in front of myself. It worked! It fucking worked! With a loud, half-crazed whoop that probably accidentally sounded more taunting than relieved, I hit the paint and sent myself flying up and over the fence.


    Awkwardly, I sprawled across the ground on the other side, remembering at the last instant to make a little bit of orange so I didn¡¯t sprain or even break anything. Still, it was anything but graceful. But I was over the fence, and I could hear angry shouting even as I pushed myself up to keep going.


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    Behind me, Two-Step hit the fence with that red bat of his, instantly knocking a hole in it somehow. I could hear the metal sizzling.


    Oh, right. This wasn¡¯t a game. There was no rule that said they had to stop at the fence. I had to keep going, had to fling myself across the empty street while they kept chasing me.


    God, oh God, I had to get the hell out of there. I had to get away before they caught up again. Before they started shooting again. I looked frantically for something to do, a way to escape. There was nothing. Just an empty street and silent, imposingly tall buildings. I was trapped. They¡¯d catch up with me and then¡­ and then¡­


    My eyes snapped to the building directly in front of me, and I swallowed the sudden fear that I felt at the thought that came. Forcing that down, I ran for the building, retracting my skates on the way. Behind me, the guys were catching up. I heard Simon blurt not to kill me. They needed to know who I was and what the hell I was doing. And how much I knew.


    That was something, at least. But I wasn¡¯t planning on being killed or captured. Reaching the building, I created a quick blue puddle in front of myself and jumped on it. The paint shot me upward a good ten or twelve feet, and I snapped my hands out, my gloves turning red while I made more red marks on the wall itself.


    It worked. My hands caught against the wall and I stayed there, kicking my feet inward while making the boots red too. Red paint shot from my feet as well, giving them something to cling to. For about ten seconds, I would be able to cling there without falling. Of course, after about ten seconds, I would be screwed. Because Simon and the others were right there. Lastword was already getting ready to do something, and Simon shouted something at me about coming down.


    Instead, I pushed up with my feet, throwing myself further up the wall just like in rock climbing class at gym. But instead of having to find places to stand, I made my own, creating more red marks on the wall for my gloves and boots to stick to. Just like that, I scrambled up the wall, partly climbing, partly jumping, and partly crawling. It was disorienting and confusing, but I kept going even as they shouted behind me. I heard guns being readied, and quickly made an orange frowny face appear on my back.


    They fired, and I felt a bullet hit my leg. I felt a bullet hit my leg. Thanks to the orange paint, it didn¡¯t actually penetrate, but it still hurt. It was like being hit with a paintball, and I would have fallen if staying against that wall wasn¡¯t an automatic thing. As it was, I nearly stayed there too long. Just as the power in the paint faded, I jumped again, while Simon shouted below me for them to get me down already.


    Two-Step was coming after me. He was using his ghost somehow to keep boosting himself up, making pushing motions with his hands as he went up the wall that his ghost duplicated behind him to keep him climbing against the smooth surface. He was catching up quickly. I had to go.


    Just like earlier, the terror was an excellent motivator, and I scrambled my way up the rest of the building like that, making spots of red paint to climb that faded behind me until I finally reached the top and scrambled over onto the roof. My leg hurt. I was limping, even as I tried to ignore the pain. I didn¡¯t have time to think about it, aside from being glad I was only hit once and with my paint active.


    Two-Step was just a little bit behind me, and I caught a glimpse of Lastword rising off the ground, having apparently worked his way into a flight power of some kind.


    But for the moment, I was out of sight. And I used that, racing toward the roof access door that would lead into the building. There, I tried the door knob. It was locked. With a grunt, I turned my arm purple, quickly using the strength that it provided to punch the door open. It slammed inward, revealing a stairwell beyond.


    I ran in, but didn¡¯t go down the stairs. That would have just led to more chasing. Instead, I quickly turned, using the lingering strength that my purple paint provided to throw myself up into the space just above the door. Turning one of my arms and one of my feet red, I shoved both arms and feet against the walls to hold myself there. I was basically bunched up into the corner above the doorway, my arms bracing myself against one side while my feet braced against the other to stay in place. With the help of my red paint, of course. Sitting like this, I could wait until the paint almost ran out, then shift to making the opposite foot and arm red to keep myself there, alternating back and forth a time or two.


    Luckily, I didn¡¯t have to wait long before my two pursuers were there. They came charging through the doorway at a sprint, never even looking up as they passed me and began racing down the stairs, Two-Step blurting something about the others cutting me off at the bottom.


    I let them go, listening to their footsteps descending the stairs before I dropped from my perch, making a bit of black paint on my feet to silence my landing. Dropping to a crouch, I carefully leaned over to peer down at their descending forms. My throat was dry, and it felt like I needed to throw up.


    They were gone, but I had to get out of there in case they doubled back when they found out I wasn¡¯t at the bottom. Quickly, I scrambled back to my feet, still silent, and ran back out to the roof.


    I needed a way out of here. Moving to the edge of the roof nearest the other building, I leaned over and looked down. It was a long drop, and I didn¡¯t know if my orange paint could take it. Instead, I looked over to the next roof. I could make that jump, with a little help.


    Moving back a few steps, I put out my hands to make another blue puddle. Then I took a breath, psyching myself up for a couple seconds before running forward. As my feet hit the blue paint, I jumped, launching myself through the air while barely repressing the urge to let out a cry that would have been half-terror and half-excitement. Remembering to make my legs orange just before landing on the other side, I still sprawled out across that next roof before rolling onto my back. I barely had the wherewithal to pull myself behind the nearest air-conditioning unit on that roof so that I couldn¡¯t be seen from the first one. Then I just stared at the sky and tried not to whimper. I was safe. I made it out of there. I could breathe again.


    I had to stop breathing then, as I heard my brother¡¯s voice from the first roof. He was speaking loudly. ¡°Yeah, like I said, he¡¯s not here! He fucking disappeared!¡±


    Quickly painting myself completely black and using the silencing power, I waited a second before chancing a peek around the air conditioning unit. There. I could see my brother¡¯s back as he spoke to someone out of sight. He looked nervous somehow, even from behind. It definitely didn¡¯t seem like he was giving orders like he had been earlier and last night.


    ¡°I told you,¡± Simon was saying, ¡°I don¡¯t think he saw you last night. He didn¡¯t go that far in.¡±


    The person he was speaking to came forward, moving beside Simon. It was our dad. The sight of him made me want to disappear even more. He gave my brother a dark look, his voice firm. ¡°Then why did he play dress-up and come here tonight? How did he even know about this?¡±


    Simon¡¯s head shook. ¡°Hell if I know.¡±


    Dad¡¯s hand snapped out, catching hold of Simon¡¯s collar to pull him close. His voice was dangerous. ¡°Find out.¡± Then he gave him a slight push back, his tone softening. ¡°Come on, son. You can do this. You¡¯re ready for the responsibility. Track this kid down and find out what he knows. Bring him in, and we¡¯ll talk. If he doesn¡¯t know anything damaging, we¡¯ll find a use for him, whichever side he leans toward. If he does know too much¡­ well, there¡¯s more room in some of these lakes than there is in the city for new Touched. Okay? I trust you. Prove me right. Show me that I can hand some of this off to you.¡±


    Simon muttered some kind of agreement, and Dad nodded before starting to look around. I ducked back, but he wasn¡¯t looking in my direction. He was scanning the sky. I frowned, tilting my head up to look as well before returning my attention to him, confused. What was he looking for?


    A moment later, all of my thoughts about what my father could have been looking for vanished, along with every other thought I had or possibly would ever have. Because in that moment, he stepped up on the edge of the roof while a featureless metal helmet expanded and grew up and over his head. It matched the sleek silvery armor that he wore. Then he simply floated off the roof and turned to look at Simon before saying something I didn¡¯t catch. In the next second, he was flying away. My father was flying away. He was flying. He was a Touched.


    And not just any Touched. Because as I crouched there, hidden behind the air conditioner, I knew who he was. There was no mistaking it. The suit was very distinctive. And I had a lot of history in looking at pictures of him.


    Silversmith. He was Silversmith, the leader of the local Conservators. My favorite hero, by some twisted sense of irony. I¡¯d always love to follow his stories. I¡¯d looked up to him for years. And now¡­


    My father wasn¡¯t a villain working for villains. He was a villain¡­ leading heroes.

 Interlude 1 - The Minority

    ¡°Would someone here mind telling me who would be stupid enough to try robbing a bank that belongs to La Casa?¡±


    The man asking the question was Lieutenant Harold Dabber, of the Detroit police department. He was a short, somewhat heavyset man with a gray walrus mustache, long stringy hair, and the face of someone who had been in a lot of fist fights. He looked more like a bum off the street than a thirty-year veteran of the police force, particularly with his beat-up brown raincoat and checkered shirt. The people he was addressing were the roughly thirty-odd officers who were helping to secure the main entrance of the bank in question.


    The bank, named Prime International Enterprise, didn¡¯t advertise that it was owned by what amounted to a Touched version of the mafia, of course. But it was understood. Blackjack, the leader of La Casa, controlled several banks in the city, even if the authorities lacked the ability to prove that fact. It was an open secret.


    The point was that trying to rob the place was tantamount to suicide. And yet, that was apparently what had just happened. There was a group that had gone into the bank to actually steal from La Casa. Which had led to the bank¡¯s own security, backed up by at least one of the La Casa Fell-Touched, attempting to deal with the situation on their own, to send a message. The first group had fought back just effectively enough to gain a foothold on one side of the bank¡¯s massive lobby. Now there were hostages on both sides, caught between the rival gangs.


    One of the uniformed officers responded, ¡±Witnesses said it looked like a few of the Ninety-Niners, sir. No sign of any Touched on their side. Just rank and file troops. Might be new guys trying to make a name for themselves and move up.¡±


    Dabber grunted, muttering a curse. ¡°They¡¯re gonna make a grave for themselves. Which I might not even complain about too much if they¡¯re that fucking stupid, except that they¡¯re going to drag a lot more people into those graves with them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Lieutenant,¡± a new voice announced, ¡°we won¡¯t let that happen.¡±


    Turning, the man saw exactly who he knew it would be. Standing before him and the other cops was a group of teenagers. Touched teenagers, in full costume.


    They were called The Minority, the official team throughout the country for Star-Touched who were under eighteen. Teens who were training to be heroes. Some would be taken on by the Conservators, while others would be picked up by groups like Ten Towers or the Spartans. Once they were old enough, each group who was interested would extend an offer of membership and benefits.


    The boy who was talking was called Syndicate. He was their current leader, who had held that position for under six months at this point. Syndicate was a tall black boy, fairly thin in a wiry way. The lower three quarters of his face, aside from his temple and hair, was covered by a hard shell red mask of some kind. It looked like a full head-covering helmet that the top had been cut off of. His black hair stuck up through the opening in random spikes. Most of the base of his costume was red as well, with gold accents and armor pieces. It seemed to tread a middle ground between protection and sleekness.


    To his left was a muscular boy in what looked like an army camo suit save for the fact that it was black and brown, with a ski mask and heavy gauntlets, and a much smaller girl who looked as though she was barely twelve, wearing a dark blue bodysuit with silver armor panels and a white cloak, the hood up over her head. Her identity was concealed by a mirrored faceplate that reflected her surroundings.


    Whamline and Raindrop, respectively.


    The other three members of the teenaged team were to Syndicate¡¯s right. There was a Caucasian girl in a dark purple bodysuit with white arrows drawn randomly all over it that pointed in every direction, and a domino mask, her blonde hair fashioned into a ponytail. There was also another girl whose ethnicity was impossible to determine, as she wore a jester¡¯s mask and full robes and hood that completely covered her. All were made in a gold, silver, and purple color scheme. And there was another boy, this one the tallest of all. Actually, he was even taller than any of the police officers, standing at over six and a half feet. His suit made him look like a medieval knight, though the armor and helmet were emerald green.


    The two girls were That-A-Way and Carousel, and the armored boy was called Wobble.


    Syndicate, Whamline, Raindrop, That-A-Way, Carousel, and Wobble. The Detroit team of the Minority.


    ¡°No offense, kid,¡± Dabber replied after taking in the sight of the group. ¡°But I was kind of hoping we¡¯d get one of the varsity teams out here for this.¡±


    There had been a time, not so very long ago, when he would have objected to teenagers having any involvement in this whatsoever. This was a hostile situation. Any time before the previous decade or so, he would have raised holy hell. He had done so, in fact. But in these recent years, he had seen teenagers with powers be thrown into far more dangerous situations than this one. And he had also seen what happened when those teenagers weren¡¯t properly experienced. This may have been something that would have been utterly unthinkable more than twenty years earlier. But things had changed in those past couple of decades. The threats in the world required solutions that he didn¡¯t have. People with powers had to be stopped by people with powers. Especially when an Abyssal got going. And the only way they were going to get the training they needed to face those threats was by facing smaller ones. Real field experience, like this situation.


    Still, as he¡¯d said, he really would have preferred having one of the adult groups here, with the teens running cleanup.


    Syndicate shook his head. ¡°Sorry, there¡¯s a brawl going on uptown between Oscuro and Braintrust. It¡¯s all hands on deck right now. They¡¯re going to be busy for a while. But don¡¯t worry, we can get the hostages out of there and calm this whole thing down.¡±


    Beside him, Carousel gave a quick nod that sent the bells on her jester¡¯s mask ringing. ¡°That¡¯s a fact. We¡¯ll make it a pact, to set things right, and call it a night.¡±


    Yeah, Dabber had no idea why the girl made everything rhyme all the time. It was just kind of her schtick, along with the whole jokester motif.


    After a brief back-and-forth to establish the situation, the team of teens focused on the occupied bank. Syndicate turned to the side, where three blue-gray ghostly and transparent duplicates of himself stood. Two of those ghost-copies ran off to either corner of the building. Then the main boy looked to the youngest member of their team. ¡°Raindrop, there¡¯s a skylight in the roof. If the rest of us play distraction, can you get the hostages up and out that way?¡±


    There was a brief hesitation, as the little girl seemed afraid to answer. Finally, however, her head bobbed up-and-down in a quick nod as she set herself. ¡°Uh huh. I um, I¡¯ll do it.¡± She sounded nervous, but determined.


    With that, Raindrop pointed above her head, creating a small cloud that poured water over top of herself. Once she had been soaked down (her cloak acting like a raincoat), the girl quickly floated up off the ground, heading for the roof. She was more than simply a powerful hydrokinetic. The kid could also manipulate how gravity affected anything that was wet.


    Syndicate pointed then. ¡°That-A-Way, Wobble,  take the far left window there, where that me is. That should put you right by the loan offices where the Ninety-Niners are holed up. Carousel, Whamline, you guys are with the me on that other side, where the La Casa and security guys are based. As soon as I go in the front door and draw attention of everyone in there, the groups on both sides go in and hit them from behind. While they¡¯re distracted, Raindrop pulls the hostages out through the ceiling. Any questions? You got that, Drop?¡± For the last bit, the boy¡¯s head turned a bit as though he was listening to something in his ear before nodding and satisfaction. ¡°Good, let¡¯s do it then.¡± He looked to Dabber. ¡°Sir, if you¡¯d like to send your men over and have them wait at either side, as soon as the hostages are clear, they can head in and mop things up. We¡¯d sure appreciate it.¡±


    Dabber agreed, sending several officers with both groups, along with orders to wait until the hostages were out of danger before moving in. Then he took his own pistol from its holster and looked to the leader of the Minority. ¡°I¡¯m going in with you.¡±


    Syndicate nodded, before he, his remaining ghost-duplicate, and Dabber himself headed carefully up toward the front entrance. There was a man there with a rifle. He wore the uniform of bank security and gave them a hard glare, shaking his head to warn them off. This was a situation that the bank wanted to deal with themselves.


    The main Syndicate stopped right alongside Dabber. But his ghost kept moving, walking straight through the locked door. As the man reacted to that, the Syndicate on the inside suddenly turned solid, while the one standing beside Dabber became insubstantial. That was the boy¡¯s power. He existed in four places at once, four separate bodies. But only one of those bodies could be solid at a time, while the remaining three were basically ghosts. They switched which of them was solid at any point.


    The newly solid Syndicate took the man by the door down in short order before unlocking the door to let his other self and Dabber inside.


    As soon as they were through, a voice called out from behind one of the desks. ¡°Lieutenant, Touched kid, you¡¯re gonna want to leave. This doesn¡¯t concern you. It¡¯s an internal matter, and the bank won¡¯t be pressing charges.¡±


    Dabber looked that way, catching sight of a man in a dark chauffeur¡¯s uniform and a white facemask. Spades, one of the La Casa Touched. His power made him quicker, faster, and stronger than any normal person. It also gave him a nearly unmatched reaction speed, and the ability to heal quickly.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Dabber called back. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you and everyone else in here to stand down. And while we¡¯re at it, why don¡¯t you stick around and answer a few questions about some other problems you¡¯ve been involved with?¡±


    His answer came in the form of a gunshot from the direction of the loan offices, where the Ninety-Niner thugs were holed up. The shot was either fired by someone who had no intention of hitting him, or an intentional warning. Either way, it hit one of the nearby pillars, before a voice from that direction shouted, ¡°You heard him, get the fuck out, pig! This ain¡¯t your business!¡±


    Syndicate¡¯s two nearby selves looked to one another before the one who was solid spoke up loudly. ¡°Okay, guys. If you¡¯re not going to surrender quietly, we¡¯ll just have to now.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Though the boy seemed to interrupt himself with that single last word while not changing his tone at all, it was clearly a signal. Because a lot started happening all at once. The solid boy grabbed Dabber by the arm and yanked him to the floor, while several more gunshots rang out from both sides.


    At the same time, That-A-Way and Wobble appeared by the offices, the former teleporting the two of them right into the middle of the group that had set up there. The men spun to fire, but achieved little. Wobble sent a wave of vibrations through the air that knocked several of them into the ground, while others were simply left dazed and nauseous from the effect. A couple more shot at That-A-Way, but the girl had switched from moving north to moving east, which meant that her power had changed from teleportation to being invulnerable and unstoppable, allowing her to simply run straight at the men without being affected, crashing into them and knocking them to the ground.


    One of the other thugs managed to roll over and aim his gun at the girl¡¯s teammate. But he was now to the west of her, which allowed That-A-Way to use her superspeed to reach the man, taking the gun out of his hand before he could fire. He swung at her wildly. Unfortunately for him, his new position made it so that he was to the south of her. Which meant that taking a simple step toward him made the girl intangible so that his fist went through her.


    It was weird. Dabber had no idea why someone¡¯s powers would be dependent on the compass direction they were moving. But that was how hers apparently worked. She had superspeed, teleportation, invulnerability, or intangibility based entirely around whether she was moving west, north, east, or south, respectively.


    Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Whamline had smashed a hole through the wall using his own power, which allowed him to create and mentally manipulate energy rope/tentacle things that were incredibly strong and could explode in a burst of kinetic force.


    Several of the boy¡¯s floating energy ropes quickly moved to wrap around Spades, trying to catch the quick man, who was having none of it, somehow managing to dart between all of them before one exploded close enough to knock him down.


    At the same time, Carousel was focusing on the rest of the men there. A couple tried to shoot at her. But their bullets were caught by her power, which pulled them in to spin in orbit around her. And it was more than just the bullets. The nearby chair and desk, a picture, a few chunks of random debris, and a fire extinguisher were all yanked into orbit around the girl. What¡¯s more, every object that was pulled in by her power immediately shrank down to about the size of a matchbook. Shrank, that was, until the girl sent the object flying away from her. Then, it regained its full size the instant that it left her orbit. Such as the desk that she sent flying into three of the men.


    While all that was going on and the teen Touched were dealing with the bad guys from each side, Dabber looked toward the center of the lobby, where a dozen bank employees and customers were huddled. They were all looking up as water fell on them. Water from a cloud that had appeared near the ceiling. Raindrop was up there, her small figure barely visible floating near the now open skylight. As soon as all of the hostages were thoroughly soaked, they suddenly floated up off the floor, some yelping. But there was nothing that either gang  could do about it even if they had noticed, busy as they were with the other Minority members.


    The instant that the hostages were being floated up through the open skylight, Dabber hit his radio and sent the order for the rest of the troops to come in. There were no more civilians in the way, so it was time to end this.


    *******


    ¡°Dude, how cool were we? No, seriously, how fucking cool was all that? We went in there all, ¡®bam, we gonna rock you!¡¯ And they were like ¡®what¡¯, and we were like, ¡®yeah, what do you think of this?¡¯¡± That-A-Way bounced ahead of the rest of the group of teen Touched as the six of them walked (or skipped in her case) through the alley between the police station downtown and the attached parking garage where the cruisers and other vehicles were kept.


    ¡°Jeez, calm down, Amber,¡± Whamline replied. ¡°How many energy drinks did you guzzle before we got there?¡±


    Nudging the boy firmly in the side, Syndicate reminded him, ¡°We¡¯re in costume and outside. Don¡¯t use real names.¡± Even as he said the words, the currently solid version of the boy sent a thought to his other three selves in their ghost-forms. Everything okay?


    All good, Armadillo, Puma reported from the corner of the police lot. No one followed us.


    Rabbit and Colt reported the same. Armadillo, Puma, Rabbit, and Colt. When the four had been trying to decide how to differentiate themselves amongst each other, since they were far more than just duplicates, they had settled on using animal names. Or rather, Armadillo, Puma, and Rabbit had. For the first six months or so of doing this, since he¡¯d become a Touched, there had been only three of him. He¡¯d called himself Trilogy. Then a fourth one had appeared, and Trilogy no longer made sense. He¡¯d thought about Quad, but if a fifth version of himself showed up, he¡¯d have to change again, and it would get old. So he¡¯d gone with Syndicate.


    That had been a year and a half earlier, and no other versions of himself had appeared. Two years of this, four months as leader of the team. He was seventeen, about ready to graduate high school. And then he¡¯d have to see what adult teams were interested in recruiting him.


    Meanwhile, That-A-Way/Amber was spinning in a circle while replying to Whamline breezily, ¡°I¡¯m just happy. I can be happy, right? Because we got all those hostages out, and caught all those bad guys. With help from the cops, o¡¯course.¡± In mid-spin, the girl gave a bow toward the police station. She even tipped an imaginary hat before spinning back to the others. ¡°Oh! And there were cameras there. So we¡¯re probably going to be on the news. I hope they got my good side.¡± She held up for the second before clapping her hands once and laughing out loud. ¡°Isn¡¯t this awesome!?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotta admit,¡± Carousel put in, ¡°her cheering¡¯s infectious. Given time, they¡¯ll even respect us.¡±


    ¡°Barely counted as a rhyme,¡± Wobble informed her. ¡°I give it a four out of ten.¡±


    Whamline¡¯s head shook. ¡°No way, man. You¡¯ve got to factor in difficulty, and she just rhymed something with infectious. That¡¯s gotta bump it up to at least six or seven.¡±


    By that point, the group had reached a blue metal door at the far end of the alley. It looked utterly unremarkable, save for the fact that there was no handle on it, and only a single stenciled word reading utility. Pausing with his hand halfway to the door, Syndicate looked back at the others with a soft sigh. ¡°You guys know we¡¯re trying to get her to stop rhyming all the time, right? You scoring her work doesn¡¯t really help with that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind the score,¡± Carousel replied, ¡°but you should open the door. I could verbally soar, yet it becomes a chore and I find I can never ignore a call for encore, so please I¡¯ve got rhymes here galore but I must ever implore, if we go to war, let¡¯s keep our rapport as we stand in the gore to show them what for, til peace we restore.¡±


    A solid four or five seconds of silence followed that, before Wobble looked at Syndicate. ¡°Just open the damn door before she starts in again.¡±


    Pressing his hand against the seemingly blank brick wall beside the door, Syndicate activated the button there that made a hidden pinhole camera scan his eyes. A moment later, there was a click, and the door slid open. He gestured. ¡°After you guys.¡±


    They stepped through the door, into a small, featureless room that was just large enough to hold them and maybe a few more people (including the three ghost-like Syndicates who had followed the others in). The door closed, and the group waited together. As they stood there, That-A-Way reached up to her domino mask, unlatching the secure hook in the back before pulling the thing off. Instantly, her supposedly blonde hair turned to its real shade of black, and there was a very faint, subtle shifting of her cheekbones and nose. Just enough to make her look sufficiently different with her eyes uncovered. The mask was the work of a Star-Touched from Texas named Facade, whose invention-based powers focused around disguises and illusions. He sold his work to Touched throughout the country to help them maintain their secrets.


    Without the mask, That-A-Way¡¯s real name was Amber O¡¯Connell.


    Whamline took off his own ski mask before tucking it into his black-and-brown camo suit, revealing a freckle-faced boy with curly, dark red hair. Next to him, the enormous Wobble cracked open his emerald helmet, pulling it off to expose a clearly Samoan ethnicity, his skin darkly tanned and handsome. Just past the six and a half foot mark despite being only sixteen years old, the boy was often mistaken for an adult.


    As civilians, Whamline and Wobble were Jerry Meuster and Laki Sefo, respectively.


    All four Syndicates reached up to unlatch their helmets and pull it off, though only the solid one really needed to. Beyond the animal names that the four versions of himself referred to each other as, their shared real name was Damarko Myers. Each thought of themselves as the ¡®real¡¯ Damarko, and they took turns living the normal part of his life while the others either ¡®slept¡¯ (during which time they would fade entirely away until they woke up) or wandered around doing what they could as a ghost. They could appear in that blue-gray ghost form, or become almost entirely invisible aside from a distortion in the air when they moved. They were also able to communicate mentally with one another, and whoever was solid could summon any or all of the other three to themselves.


    Holding his helmet under one arm, the black boy rubbed a hand over his cheek while looking over to Raindrop.


    She had pulled down her own hood, and was taking off the mirrored mask. Beneath it was Isabel/Izzy Amor, a small Hispanic girl with wide eyes and a trembling lip, who always looked as though everyone around her was one mistake away from kicking her down a flight of stairs. She was jumpy and constantly apologizing for the smallest thing. But she also tried hard, and was wickedly powerful. Her issue was self-esteem.


    Then there was the last member of their group. Carousel stood still for a moment before reaching up, tugging her hood down, then pulled off the jester mask. Doing so revealed the reason her own identity was so thoroughly covered. She was, for one thing, albino. Which would have stood out anyway, with her very pale skin, pink eyes, and almost white hair. But she was also Asian. An Asian albino in Detroit. Covering her entire face, head, and hair was important if she was going to maintain anything resembling a secret identity. Her jester mask even contained dark lenses.


    Her real name was Jae Baek, and the moment her mask was off, the girl¡¯s entire posture and demeanor changed. She seemed to shrink in on herself, holding the mask against her chest while looking at the floor. As Carousel, she was loud, outgoing, and constantly rhymed everything thanks to an incredible vocabulary. As Jae, she was quiet, shy, barely spoke (and didn¡¯t do so in rhymes), and rarely initiated eye contact.


    It was¡­ probably a bit worrying just how different she acted as Jae and as Carousel, like they were two entirely separate people. She even tended to talk about each side of herself as if she were a different person.


    By the time all of them had taken their masks and helmets off, there was a soft ding. The door they had just come through a moment earlier opened. This time, however, it revealed a much larger room rather than the alley they had just come through. Their base, clubhouse, training quarters, whatever else it could be called. The room they had entered was one of about a dozen spread over the city. A dozen they knew about, anyway. They were designed and built by one of the Ten Towers Touched, another technology-based superhero called Switchshift, whose gifts revolved around creations that could transform, change position, or in the case of these rooms, switch places. It allowed people to enter a room in one location and instantly appear somewhere else as the room changed places with its counterpart elsewhere.


    A man was standing there, waiting just inside the lobby of their base as the group filed out. Silversmith, the leader of the Detroit branch of Conservators. His face, as always, was hidden behind his helmet. As far as any of the teens were aware, no one knew who Silversmith really was. He kept his identity secret even from his own team. Not that he was the only one. There were other Star-Touched who did the same, though none on this Minority team.


    ¡°Heard you did well at the bank,¡± Silversmith announced, his tone proud and impressed. ¡°Good job. Come on, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re hungry, so I had pizza sent over. You can eat, and tell me everything from your point of view.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to eat, sir?¡± Amber asked, a not-very-subtle attempt to see something of the man¡¯s face, even if it was only enough to tell his ethnicity. It would still be more than was publicly known.


    For a moment, Silversmith didn¡¯t say anything. His head cocked a little, giving the impression despite the featureless helmet that he was smiling at them. ¡°Maybe another time,¡± he finally replied, his tone lightly amused. ¡°For now, I¡¯ll let you guys have the pizza to yourselves.


    ¡°Because if I spoil my appetite, my wife will kill me.¡±

 Becoming 2-01

    I ran until I couldn¡¯t run anymore, sometimes using my paint to speed myself up, other times too distracted to remember it. The bruise on my leg hurt, but I ignored it. The scenery around me was a blur. I think there were people, some of them looking my way as I rushed past in my strange clothes and helmet. A few probably said something. But I didn¡¯t pay attention. Their words were buzzing sounds in the back of my head while I ran past. Ran until I was exhausted. Ran until I could run no further and finally fell to my knees in the back of some empty parking lot somewhere, near a building with a dumpster that was surrounded on three sides by a short fence.


    My eyes were flooded and blinded by tears as I half-lay there on the uneven, broken pavement. I made a noise deep in the back of my throat that some part of me recognized as more animal-like than human. It came again, louder, as I thought about what I had just seen.


    My father was pretending to be a hero while sanctioning murder, while working with villains. My father, whom I loved more than I could say, the man I had looked up to my whole life¡­ was a bad guy. More than that, he was pretending to be a hero. And not just any hero, but the one who happened to be my personal favorite. The man in my life whom I had looked up to the most, and the man out of my life whom I had looked up to the most were both the same person. And he was a bad guy. He ordered people to be killed. He¡­ he¡­


    I was on my feet. Lashing out hard, I kicked the nearby dumpster, sending pain through the bruise in my leg. Then I punched the dumpster, hard. It hurt, but it was a physical pain, which was a welcome distraction from what I was feeling. So I punched it again, cursing out loud. I hit the dumpster several times in quick succession, cursing louder with each strike of my fist against it.


    I couldn¡¯t breathe. Stumbling back, my hands pushed my helmet up and off, letting it fall to the ground. My face was still covered by the ski mask, and I yanked that up as well. Clutching the mask in one hand, I sucked in air greedily, breathing hard. My foot lashed out to kick the dumpster one more time, while I stared at the ground and heard my father¡¯s voice once again talking about dumping me (not that he knew it was me) in the lake if I wasn¡¯t useful for him. He¡¯d said it with no hesitation, like it was normal for him. It was normal for him. Killing those two guys last night wasn¡¯t a fluke or a one-time thing. It was normal. It was who my father was.


    I couldn¡¯t put that together with the man I knew. It was like they were two different people. My father was firm, but he loved me. He protected me. He was the hero in my life, and Silversmith was my favorite actual hero. And now they were both¡­ he¡­ he was both and he was a monster. He was¡­ he ordered¡­ he¡­


    I kicked the dumpster again. As I did so, however, the back door of the building that I¡¯d thought was empty was shoved open. Someone was standing there in the light, his gruff voice demanding, ¡°Who the fuck is out there?! Hey! Hey, get away from that!¡±


    He couldn¡¯t see me very well, I knew that much. He¡¯d just come from a brightly lit room and I was standing in the dark some distance away. At best, he could make out my outline. Quickly, I called, ¡°Sorry!¡± Then I turned, grabbed my helmet off the ground, and ran. With my luck, he¡¯d insist on trying to call either the cops or my parents if I stuck around, and I couldn¡¯t deal with either right then. Especially not while I was dressed like this. That was a confrontation I wasn¡¯t ready to deal with.


    Running across the lot while the man gave a half-hearted yell for me to stay the hell away from his shop, I looked down at myself. I was still holding the helmet and mask, and the jumpsuit coverall things didn¡¯t exactly blend in anyway. Not to mention, I had a long way to go if I was going to get back to where my regular clothes were hidden.


    Tonight had been basically as far from a success as you could get, without me actually dying or being captured. I hadn¡¯t actually accomplished anything aside from finding out about my dad being Silversmith.


    Except I had. Belatedly, I realized that I still had my phone. Throughout that whole thing, I¡¯d somehow remembered to drop it into the pocket of my coveralls while running for my life. I still had the video, short as it was, of my brother meeting with those Easy Eight guys, while standing with a gun in his hand. The video hadn¡¯t actually recorded him doing anything illegal, but it was something. Maybe I could figure out what to do with it later.


    Right now, I just wanted to¡­ actually, I didn¡¯t want to go home. I didn¡¯t know what I wanted, but going home was basically the last possible thing. The idea of going back to that place while knowing everything I did made me want to start cursing and hitting things again.


    I needed to clear my head. Walking around felt like a good idea, but I didn¡¯t want to draw attention. So I did something about that. Focusing, I turned the bottom half of the coveralls white, while making the top half blue. I thought about it briefly before leaning over to look at my waist. Would this work? I made a space about one inch wide, all the way around, turn black, like a belt. As an added touch, I put in a bit of red right at the front, where the fake belt¡¯s buckle and clasp would be.


    It wasn¡¯t going to fool anyone who got close, but in the dark, from a distance, I might not stand out. Enough to walk down the street, anyway. Especially after I looked around for a few seconds and found a discarded plastic grocery bag to shove my helmet and gloves into.


    Okay, it still wasn¡¯t perfect. But again, I could probably take a walk like this. Holding the bag with one hand, I started out. My eyes were down, watching the sidewalk ahead of me as I made my way down the street while cars passed me by. I wasn¡¯t really thinking about where I was going, just that I needed to keep moving away from where I¡¯d been.


    My thoughts wandered, but always came back to that one thing. My father was a villain. My father was Silversmith. Silversmith was a villain. He was a bad guy. My whole family were¡­ were..


    I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to hit things. I did none of that. I walked. For a long time, actually. It helped clear my head, helped me come to terms, at least as much as I could that quickly, with what I¡¯d found out. I could breathe. It hurt, but I could think about it.


    Okay, Dad was a bad guy. My whole family were bad guys. Pretty important ones too, if Dad was able to play at being the leader of the local Conservators. Dad was super-rich, powerful, and influential. He obviously had a hell of a lot of connections in both the Fell and Star-Touched groups. Heroes and villains, he was playing both sides. I didn¡¯t know why or how he pulled it off, but he did.


    Then there was that thing he¡¯d said, about how they could maybe ¡®use¡¯ me no matter which side I fell on, as long as I didn¡¯t know too much. Dad was confident that whether I, or rather, the boy he thought I was, wanted to be a hero or a villain, they could use me. Which obviously meant that he had even more contacts in both those worlds than I already knew about. Probably other Touched that either worked for him or did favors for him.


    I couldn¡¯t go to anyone. I realized that while walking along a dark side street that was only partially lit by a couple valiantly flickering street lamps, the buildings to either side long-since closed for the evening. A steady stream of cars passed, none paying any attention to me or to anything else in this neighborhood.


    I couldn¡¯t just go to the cops or flag down a random hero. Dad could have people¨Cno, did have people involved with any or all of them. The second I told my story, if I was talking to the wrong person, or if they talked to the wrong person, things would get really bad, really fast.


    So¡­ what was I going to do about it? What could I do about it?


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Nothing. Or at least, nothing that immediately came to mind. I had no idea who to trust, only that trusting the wrong person would be the end of this whole thing. For a second, I absurdly thought about, of all things, the game Minesweeper. I¡¯d gotten¡­ fairly good at that game from the semester that I¡¯d been a librarian assistant during lunch back in junior high. It involved a lot of sitting at the desk doing nothing. I¡¯d spent much of it playing games or browsing on my phone. But I¡¯d also played a lot of Minesweeper on the ancient computer that sat there. Enough to know some of the basics, like the fact that it was normally impossible to lose on the first click because if there was a mine under the first tile that you clicked on, it would automatically be moved elsewhere. Your first move on a new board was always completely safe.


    Too bad this wasn¡¯t Minesweeper. Clearing this particular set of mines, finding the safe person to talk to about this, didn¡¯t have that kind of safety net. Talking to the wrong person would let my family know exactly what was going on. It would set off all the mines. And I couldn¡¯t chance that. Not yet.


    So I couldn¡¯t talk to anyone right now. Not until I knew some more. I was going to have to be very careful. Maybe¡­ maybe I could find out why my parents were part of this. Maybe finding out why would help me figure out who I could trust. But if I did that, if I dug into their history, it¡­ it was going to be dangerous. And I had no idea how or where to start. I couldn¡¯t just wave and say, ¡®Hi, Daddy, could you tell me how you became a supervillain pretending to be a superhero?¡¯


    All of which meant I was going to have to be subtle. Maybe I could sneak into Dad¡¯s offices, either at home or at his company headquarters downtown (under the pretense of visiting him, of course). That might be a decent place to start, since I could get away with being around home or the offices. Especially if I was careful about it. I could maybe find something to give me a starting point at figuring any of this out.


    Either way, right now it was time to go home. I could figure out more¡­ or anything at all later. But I had to get back to where I¡¯d left my clothes first. Looking down at my phone to orient myself, I winced a little. I¡¯d been going completely the wrong way. If I was going to get back home before my parents started to wonder where I was, I¡¯d have to get back there quick. And that meant using my paint and skates to speed things up.


    Glancing around, I ducked back behind a fast food place before shifting my suit back to white, disabling the ¡®disguise¡¯, for what it had been worth. From the bag, I took the gloves, mask, and helmet, tugging them on one by one. If I was going to use my power to get back to my clothes, doing so without covering my face would probably be a bad idea.


    With my identity safely hidden, I moved back out from behind the building and checked my phone once more while rolling back to the sidewalk on my skates. With a little help from my paint, I could take a few shortcuts and make it back to my clothes before¨C


    ¡°Hey! Hey!¡± A voice called out, making me jerk in surprise as I spun with my hands up defensively.


    But it wasn¡¯t one of Simon¡¯s goons. Or any goon, as far as I could tell. Not unless they were employing elderly women carrying shopping bags in one hand and walking a poodle with the other. She even wore a sun hat with flowers on it. The lady was standing there, using the hand with the leash looped around it to point to me. ¡°Hey,¡± she repeated for a third time, ¡°you¡¯re one of those superhero people, right?¡±


    ¡°Uh,¡± I managed after a second of staring at her dumbly.


    ¡°One of those Minority kids?¡± she guessed. ¡°You change so much, I can¡¯t keep up. But you, whatever you call yourself. Super-skating-kid. You should call your friends to do something about those guys back there.¡±


    ¡°Those¡­ guys?¡± I echoed blankly.


    My voice must¡¯ve been muffled, or maybe she was hard of hearing, because the woman nodded. ¡°Yes, sonny, the guys back there.¡± She pointed down the street. ¡°Two of them, they just attacked that poor man. I think they¡¯re mugging him. You should do something about it.¡±


    ¡°Call the cops?¡± I offered a bit weakly.


    The woman laughed bitterly. ¡°Oh sure, sweetie. Call the cops and wait thirty minutes for them to show up. You go right ahead and do that. Daisy and I have to get home. Maybe we¡¯ll have time to bake a nice cake for the officers when they get here.¡±


    Her dog barked at me once before they hurried off, leaving me standing there while the woman muttered something about the state of the city and what it was turning into.


    For a few seconds, I just stood there. My eyes were glued to the alley down the street. It was far enough back that I could barely make it out, and in a completely different direction than the way I needed to go. Some guy right now was back there getting mugged and beat up. A guy I didn¡¯t know, who had nothing to do with me. I could call the cops, could even do so anonymously with the Doephone app. But it was like that woman had said, they would take at least half an hour to get out here. That would be too late. The damage would be done. The damage was being done even as I stood there, caught in my own indecision.


    I skated that way. Wheels gliding along the pavement, I found myself rushing without consciously realizing what I was doing. Hitting the opposite sidewalk, I turned my skates black and activated the silencing power for the last distance before reaching the alley in question.


    Even then, I could hear faint sounds coming from it. Sounds of¡­ bad things. Forcing back the fear that was trying to shove its way up out of my stomach, I coasted to a stop, catching myself against the wall of the building. For a second, I just stood there, asking myself what the hell I thought I was doing.


    More sounds came, and this time I was close enough to make them out. First was the sound of a whispered plea, then the shuffling of feet on pavement before that of a fist colliding with someone¡¯s stomach. Then a grunt of pain accompanied by a violent wheeze of air from the person being hit.


    Squeezing my eyes shut, I mouthed a silent prayer before peeking around the corner, just in time to see two men. No, three. The third was doubled over from being struck. They were all standing in front of a door at the back of that alley. One of the standing guys was shoving the door open, revealing darkness beyond. The guy who was doubled over said something that sounded like a plea, before the one standing in front of him caught him by the back of the neck, yanked him around, and shoved him through the open doorway. I caught a glimpse of the guy tripping to sprawl out over the floor just beyond. He said something then, another desperate plea that I could barely hear.


    The guy who had thrown him in stalked after the guy, rearing back to kick him. Meanwhile, the one who had opened the door suddenly paused before starting to turn to look back up the alley.


    I jerked back out of the way, throwing myself against the wall while my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest. I stayed there, whispering silent prayers until I heard the heavy metal door close. Once the clang came, I took a breath before chancing a peek around the corner once more.


    The alley was empty. They were inside that building, with that guy.


    Putting my back to the wall once more, I reached up to shove the front of my helmet up out of the way before pushing my hands against the ski mask that covered my face to muffle the whimper of revulsion and fear that escaped me.


    Who was that guy? Who were they? What did they want with him? Why were they just¡­ hitting and kicking him, and what did they plan to do with him in there?


    The only thing close to an answer I had was to the last question, and that was ¡®nothing good¡¯.  That woman was wrong, this wasn¡¯t just a mugging. If it was a mugging, they wouldn¡¯t have taken him in there. This was something else. The fear I¡¯d heard in the man¡¯s pleas¡­ I couldn¡¯t hear his actual words, but he had obviously been terrified. Whatever was going on, whoever they were¡­ he was afraid they would kill him. I had no doubt about that. He had been begging for his life.


    Just like those guys had last night. The two guys in that motel who had been executed right in front of me. I¡¯d heard one of them screaming, begging for his life after the first had been shot in the head. Then he too had been silenced. Mercilessly, coldly executed.


    But what could I do? I¡¯d screwed up earlier. All I¡¯d been trying to do was get video proof of what Simon was doing, and that had gone so wrong I¡¯d barely escaped. I had run away. Just like I had last night. I had seen those guys get killed, and the only thing I¡¯d done was run away.


    First I had stood there, watching as they were murdered. Then I had run away. And now¡­ now it was the same thing. Now this other guy was going to be killed. I¡¯d stood there, watching him be dragged into that building where he would probably be executed, just like those guys last night.


    I would wake up tomorrow  knowing that, whether it was in the news or not, another man had been killed because I did nothing. Three in two nights. Three men killed because I stood there and watched, because I was too afraid to do anything about it. Three men killed while I hid and then ran.


    No.


    Not three.


    Not tonight.


    Not this one.


    I straightened from the wall, pushing myself off it. My hand found the front of my helmet and shoved it back down into place with a firm click. Turning, I stepped around to stand in front of the alley, facing that door, beyond which I had no idea what I would find. But I did know one thing.


    I wasn¡¯t running away this time.

 Becoming 2-02

    The door was locked.


    I tried it very carefully, intending to sneak inside. But it didn¡¯t budge.


    Okay, so I was going to save this guy. Just one problem, now I had no idea how. Hell, I wasn¡¯t even sure how I was going to get into the building with the door locked. I could try to use the strength paint to break through, but they might hear that and kill the guy before I could even get in there.


    I needed a better way through, and I needed it quick, before they¡­ before the guy ran out of time.


    But there was nothing. There was no window to sneak in or anything, it was just a blank wall. And the longer I stayed here trying to figure out how to get in, the bigger chance that the whole point would be moot. They could be killing him right now. I had to find another way in besides that door.


    Or did I? Standing there, staring at the door with the mounting thought that I was failing my first real attempt to save someone, I thought of something. It was pretty stupid and crazy, but maybe stupid and crazy was all I had time for.


    There was a trashcan at the end of the alley, near the entrance. Looking that way, I pointed a hand and shot two bits of red paint, one at the side of the trashcan itself, and one at the ground next to it.


    That done, I turned back to the door, reared back my fist, and struck the thing as hard as I could. I tried to make it sound like there was a whole army out here waiting to bust the thing down.


    Knocking five or six times as loud as I could, I then put a bit of purple paint on my legs and threw myself upward in a jump. Red paint appeared on my hands and feet, to hold myself against the wall.


    It was just in time. The door slammed open and one of the guys came storming out beneath me. He was the only one who appeared, much to my disappointment. Still, he was there. So I quickly activated the paint on the trashcan and ground. It made the can fall over, as if someone had just run past and bumped it.


    The guy took the bait. He went running that way, shouting something I didn¡¯t catch. He probably wouldn¡¯t go far once he hit the end of the alley and saw nobody in sight. But that was all I needed. The red paint I was using faded, and I dropped to the ground, using a tiny bit of black to silence my landing. Then I spun the other way, looking through the open door. There was a short, unfinished hallway on the other side, and no one in sight. Good. Good. Now I just had to¡ª


    ¡°Hey!¡± That one was directed at me, as the guy at the end of the alley had turned back to see me standing in front of the doorway. He had a gun in his hand, but before he could point it at me, I threw myself into the building. My hand caught the door, and I slammed it shut with a loud clang.


    Apparently the door automatically locked, and this guy didn¡¯t have the keys, because he immediately started banging loudly on it, swearing emphatically at me.


    Okay, okay, I just had to get to the guy still in here (and their victim) before he figured out what was going on. Or before the guy outside managed to call him or something. Turning back to the hall in front of me while the pounding continued, I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat.


    There were three doors, but two of them were open to show unfinished bathrooms. The third was closed, and that was the one I went to. Pressing my ear against the door, I tried to shut out the banging from the other one.


    Actually, wait a second. Turning back to the other door, I shot a bit of black paint at it and silenced the damn thing. There, now I could hear.


    Footsteps. I heard footsteps. They were coming closer, along with muttering and cursing. Eyes widening, I quickly threw myself at the nearest open door, where one of the half-finished bathrooms was.


    I¡¯d barely shoved myself out of sight when the door I¡¯d been listening at banged open and the guy came storming through. He was cursing about the guy outside forgetting to prop the door before he went outside.


    My heart was pounding so hard that I was almost sure he¡¯d hear it. But he didn¡¯t, stalking right past the bathroom where I was hiding on his way to the exit. There, he grabbed the door and threw it open, already starting to demand that his buddy tell him why he let it shut.


    The guy outside was saying something, but I didn¡¯t give him time to finish. Before he could get more than a word or two out, I was already launching myself down the corridor. I¡¯d brought the wheels of my pace-skates out, and put a green smiley face on my chest, as well as making both of my gloves purple. With my speed and strength boosted, respectively, I hurtled through that hall. The guy at the door had time to look over his shoulder just before I slammed into him. The impact sent him flying out into his partner, both of them crashing to the ground.


    Meanwhile, I caught myself against the door jamb. The two thugs were entangled with each other and cursing, both rolling over. I quickly slammed the door again, trapping them outside.


    Unfortunately, if the first guy hadn¡¯t had the keys for this place, I was almost positive the second guy did. So I had to hurry. Turning, I moved to the nearby bathroom door. Gripping it near the hinges, I activated another spot of purple on myself and heaved backward. It cracked, but resisted, until I heaved again. Then the door gave up the fight and broke free of the wall.


    By that time, I could hear keys jingling outside, and the lock was starting to turn. I had to hurry!


    So I did. Dropping the door onto its side, I shoved it as fast as I could up against the door. The way it was positioned, one side of the door was up under the door jamb, while the other side bumped up against the far wall. It was squeezed in tight, and the door couldn¡¯t open like that. It was shoved into place just as they got it unlocked, and I heard cursing as they tried throwing themselves against it to no avail.


    Okay, okay. They probably had another way in somewhere. This couldn¡¯t be the only door there was. But it would take them a minute to decide to give up on this one and go to it. I just had to hurry the hell up and get to the guy they¡¯d dragged in here, free him, and get out. Easy pea¨C


    I stopped before finishing that sentence, but the damage was probably already done. Flinching, I pivoted and ran back down the hall, to the door that the second guy had come through. Find their prisoner and get out with him. Find their prisoner and get out with him.


    My luck seemed to actually be holding a moment later, as I passed through the door and found myself in what looked like a half-finished (or maybe half-destroyed) office floor. There were a handful of broken cubicles scattered around, a bunch of random desks, and some separate offices around the edges and corners. More importantly, directly ahead of me was a heavy metal chair with a man sitting on it. A man who was chained to that chair by a couple different handcuffs attached from it to his wrists. Yeah, I was gonna go ahead and guess that was the guy I was trying to rescue.


    Sprinting that way, I neared the man just as his gaze snapped my way. Seeing me, he made a noise of surprise while jerking backward. The chair was apparently bolted to the floor or something though, because it didn¡¯t go anywhere. He did, however, start cursing and pleading with me not to hurt him, and that he didn¡¯t know where ¡®he¡¯ was. Whatever that meant.


    ¡°Shhh!¡± I blurted, holding up both hands. ¡°I¡¯m here to¨C I¡¯m here to help you! Look, you wanna get out of here?¡± When he hesitated before nodding, I pressed on. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get you out of that chair, okay? Just hold on a second. Let me¨C¡±


    ¡°Look out!¡± The man jerked in his seat as he blurted that, looking at something past me.


    I didn¡¯t look. Instead, I threw myself to the side, landing on the floor. And it was a good thing I didn¡¯t turn back to see what was going on, because a bat whiffed through the air right where my head had just been a second earlier.


    A guy was there. A different guy from the two who were outside. Of course, just because I¡¯d seen two guys come in here didn¡¯t mean they were the only ones in the entire building. Fucking duh, Cassidy.


    The guy was tall, very pale, and covered in tattoos. His chest was bare to show off those tattoos, and he wore ratty old jeans. He wasn¡¯t super muscular or anything, but he had some definite strength behind his swing. Which was evidenced even more as he followed up that first swing with a second. This one came around and down toward the spot where I was sprawled, and I barely managed to throw myself backward in an awkward roll as the bat rebounded off the floor where I had been with a terrifying clang.


    ¡°Hey, jackass!¡± the guy snarled, his face twisting in a way that made him look ugly and vicious (helped by the collection of piercings he had). ¡°Who the hell invited you?!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help it. Terrified as I was, the response blurted its way out of me before I could stop it. ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t Better Homes and Gardens, I¡¯ll tell you that much. This place is filthy.¡±


    Holy crap, why did I say that? If the guy hadn¡¯t already been angry, that definitely didn¡¯t help. He snarled, taking a quick step after me before swinging that bat even harder. That time, however, I was ready. Raising my open hand, I made my glove red while also shooting a bit of red toward the bat itself. Activating both bits of paint, I let the bat rip its way out of the man¡¯s hand and fly into mine while he made a grunt of surprise.


    Barely catching the bat, I made it back to my feet while the guy froze, staring at me as if seeing my costume (for what it was worth) for the first time. As he took that in, I turned the bat around in my hand. ¡°Are you sure this thing is field-legal? Cuz it feels a little hefty to me.¡± Adopting a scandalized tone, I gasped and pointed the bat at him. ¡°Does your Little League coach know you¡¯re cheating?¡±


    With a sound that was half-snarl and half-curse, the man hurled himself at me. He would have tackled me, and that probably would¡¯ve been the end of it. But I saw him start to move and quickly brought a tie-dye splash of green and purple across my chest, activating both for a speed and strength boost.


    Thanks to the speed, I was able to sidestep out of the way as the man lunged. And thanks to the strength, my follow-up swing with the bat connected with the side of his leg hard enough to knock the man to the ground, as the loud crack of the bone breaking filled the room. Owww. I wasn¡¯t even the one that was hit, and that still sounded bad. And his leg was¡­ well, it didn¡¯t look right, that was for sure.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The guy collapsed with a cry, clutching his leg while I dropped the bat in surprise at just how much damage I had done. It clattered along the ground, and I almost fell over while backpedaling. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry!¡± I reflexively blurted, before realizing what I was doing. The guy probably would¡¯ve hurt me a hell of a lot worse than that if he¡¯d gotten hold of me.


    The sound of running footsteps snapped my attention over toward a nearby hallway, as my two friends from outside came sprinting. Both of them had guns drawn. Before they could fire, I used red paint to yank the bat back into my hand and hurled it at them, forcing the two to duck as it flew past.


    They immediately straightened after that to take aim. But that was a mistake. Because just as they did so, I activated the red paint that I¡¯d left on the bat before throwing it, as well as my newly repainted glove. The bat made an abrupt turn in mid-air before flying back toward me. Which made it crash into the back of one of the guy¡¯s heads. He cried out, falling to one knee, which made the other guy stumble as well.


    ¡°Okay, we got off on the wrong foot,¡± I conceded. ¡°I said some things, you said some things. I don¡¯t suppose you guys want to thumb wrestle to settle this?¡±


    Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, what was I doing? What the hell was I doing?!


    Catching the bat once more, I did two things at once. First, I pointed it toward the first guy, the one whose leg I had broken. He was pulling something out of his pants pocket, and I really didn¡¯t want to know what it was. At the same time, I clicked my heels to make the wheels on my pace-skates pop out.


    It was a gun. The guy on the ground had hauled a small, but still dangerous-looking revolver out of his pocket. Just as he tried to take aim, I turned my glove blue, sending the bat flying away from my hand to crash into the man¡¯s face. I didn¡¯t have time to make a full swinging-throwing motion, but the blue paint worked just fine. The bat rocketed into his nose, knocking the man flat once more while blood sprayed everywhere.


    At the same time, I made a bit of green appear on my skates while throwing myself to the side just as the guy by the hall who hadn¡¯t been hit in the back of the head managed to aim his own gun at where I had been, opening fire with a couple quick shots.


    Shots. He was shooting at me. For the second time that night and the third time in the past couple of nights, I was being shot at! This wasn¡¯t a game. It wasn¡¯t just pretend. I was being shot at by psychopaths who wanted to kill me, who would kill me if I gave them half a chance.


    I almost surrendered right then. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was childish. But I was scared, and I very nearly just stopped and pleaded with them to let me go. I didn¡¯t want to die.


    Some hero I was. A couple bullets came my way and my first instinct was to piss myself and beg for them not to kill me. How pathetic was that?


    But I didn¡¯t. If I¡¯d been asked in that moment to say what stopped me from surrendering to the terror, I couldn¡¯t have said. I honestly, truly had no idea. Maybe it was simple momentum. Or maybe I was more afraid of what would happen if I surrendered than of what would happen if I didn¡¯t. Either way, with that burst of speed from my green paint (and a little orange for extra protection), I skated along the side of the room in a quick blur of motion while the guy with the gun fired several more shots that failed to come anywhere near me. With my skates and the speed boost, I was too fast for him to adjust his aim quick enough.


    Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t slow myself either, or he would hit me. I threw a couple shots of paint that way, but both missed. I was rocketing along too quickly to aim properly.


    Rocketing along so fast, in fact, that I was about to crash headlong into the wall as I approached the corner of the room. I¡¯d been so focused on seeing what that guy was doing that I almost didn¡¯t see where I was going in time. At the last second, I leapt, spraying paint from my hands at the wall that I was hurtling toward.


    It worked. Holy god, it worked. Red paint on the wall and red paint on my skates, and I was rolling along the wall. I was literally skating over the wall as if it was the floor, spraying more paint ahead of myself. Holy shit, holy shit! I was skating along the wall!


    And then I ran out of paint. Suddenly, my skates weren¡¯t sticking to the wall anymore. As a loud cry escaped me, I went flying off, crashing headlong into a pile of desks and chairs in the opposite corner of the room. I went down in a heap of metal and wood, groaning a little.


    Okay, okay. No more paint for a few seconds. The guys were already starting to recover, I couldn¡¯t make myself fast or (relatively) immune to their bullets, and they were pissed off. Meanwhile, I was lying here on my side half-beneath an overturned desk, which, along with the pile of partially-broken chairs just above my head, served as the only things protecting me from their bullets.


    This was going swimmingly.


    Fortunately, they didn¡¯t know that I couldn¡¯t use my power right then. That was basically the only thing I had going for me. Because it meant they hesitated. One of them called, ¡°Hey, asshole! You gonna come out of there, or do we have to drag you out?!¡±


    The guy whose leg I had broken interjected with a bellowed, ¡°Just go get the fucking cocksucker so I can go to the hospital, shit-for-brains!¡±


    Right, they were a bit nervous about coming after me. They didn¡¯t know exactly where in the pile of junk and desks I¡¯d fallen. I was out of their sight, able to slowly turn over onto my hands and knees without disturbing anything. There was so much crap around here, including a couple broken cubicle walls, that they couldn¡¯t see where I was.


    Think, Cassidy. What could I do now? Just wait for my paint to come back?


    There wasn¡¯t time for that. I heard footsteps coming closer, as one of the guys carefully made his way around. Peeking through a little hole in the underside of the desk I was hiding behind, I saw him. He had his gun up and ready as he made a slow approach, waiting for any sign of me.


    So I gave him a sign. Carefully but quickly, I picked up the top half of a broken chair and gave it a toss over to the opposite side of the junk pile. It hit one of the propped-up cubicle walls, knocking it over with a loud clatter.


    It worked. Several gunshots rang out, and I saw the guy who had been getting close go sprinting past the desk. He actually bumped against it in his rush, cursing loudly as he took the bait and threw himself after the sound of the crashing junk.


    All of their attention was focused over there. Which gave me an opening to throw myself in a roll right past the spot where the man had just been, and through an open doorway into a small corner office, where I put my back to the wall and breathed.


    ¡°Nothing!¡± the guy who was poking around where I¡¯d thrown the bit of chair called. ¡°Nobody¡¯s here!¡±


    ¡°Look again!¡± the one on the ground with the broken leg demanded. ¡°He can¡¯t just disappear!¡±


    ¡°How the fuck do you know?!¡± the guy who had been hit in the back of the head shot back. ¡°He¡¯s Touched, right? So maybe he can disappear! You ever hear about this guy?¡±


    There was a collection of denials, before one of them shouted, ¡°Whoever the hell you are, little punk, you better be scared! Powers or not, we¡¯re gonna fuck you up!¡±


    Yeah, that was likely to make me come out and show myself. Idiot.


    Hearing footsteps approaching the office as the guy left the junk pile to come look, I realized my time was up. He was almost to the doorway, and if he saw me like this, just sitting on the floor like a helpless little bug¡­


    I did the only thing I could think of. Pointing my hands straight up, I shot red paint at the ceiling while praying that I actually had paint again.


    It worked. Paint appeared, and my body was jerked up from the floor. I didn¡¯t even have to jump or anything. The paint just yanked me that way. I hit the ceiling and clung there, using paint on my feet to keep myself in place. All that just an instant before the man stepped through the doorway. He was right under me, barely inside the room as he swept the pistol from one side of the room to the other.


    Then he looked up. His mouth opened, while he started to jerk the pistol my way. But my hand was already pointed at him, spraying black paint that took the man along the arm and gun, muting the sound of both as he simultaneously fired and shouted. His bullet silently hit about halfway up the wall.


    Before he could adjust his aim or do anything else to draw attention, I dropped from the ceiling to crash into the man. Small as I was, my weight still took the guy to the ground before he could brace himself. We fell into a heap, and I quickly turned my arm purple for the added strength before punching the man hard.


    Ow. His skull hurt my hand. But I hurt him more, as he jerked with a still-muted cry. The guy tried to struggle free, heaving my body off of him before yanking his gun up a bit dizzily.


    Then my flailing foot hit his face, and he went down hard. His body collapsed, and a very slight moan escaped him as the black paint wore off.


    Scrambling, I took his gun away. Not that he was in any mood to stop me. The guy just laid there, mostly-unconscious. I stared at him for a second like that, until a voice called, ¡°Steve!? Hey man, you okay over there?!¡±


    He wasn¡¯t. His eyes blinked blearily at me, mouth opening as though to say something. Then his eyes closed and he slumped. He was breathing, but he was definitely out of it. A thick bruise was already starting to show where I had kicked him, and he had teeth missing. Or at least, teeth that weren¡¯t in his head anymore. I could see them scattered along the floor.


    ¡°Yo, man, this isn¡¯t¨Cthe fuck?!¡±


    The remaining guy was in the doorway. He saw his buddy and me both there, his gun jerking up into position.


    He fired. Luckily, I¡¯d already brought a splattering of orange paint over my chest. It still hurt, almost knocking the wind from me. But I¡¯d take ¡®hurt¡¯ over ¡®big bleeding hole in my chest¡¯ any day. He shot me point-blank, and the bullet felt like being hit with a rock.


    Clearly surprised by the lack of blood, the man froze briefly. Just long enough for me to throw the pistol I¡¯d taken from the other guy at his face. His head jerked back reflexively, giving me an opening to scramble to my feet. Purple and green appeared in a pattern of stars along both of my arms as I threw myself at the man, tackling him out of the doorway with strength and speed that he wasn¡¯t prepared for.


    He landed on his back with me on top of him. Before he could recover, I punched him hard. Then I hit him again, and a third time. By that swing, the man had stopped struggling to throw me off. But I hit him a fourth time, the adrenaline and terror of the moment driving me to keep swinging.


    He wasn¡¯t fighting me. He was lying there, groaning in pain. My rush of energy left me panting as I perched there on the man¡¯s chest, staring with wide eyes at him as he tried to curl into a ball and whimper.


    ¡°Eddie?!¡± the guy whose leg was broken was calling. ¡°Steve?! The fuck is going on over there, guys?! This isn¡¯t funny!¡±


    Taking a few breaths to steady myself, I straightened and caught the guy at my feet by the arm. With a little help from my purple strength boost, I gave him a toss out from behind the pile of junk. He crashed to the floor in plain view of his buddy, who suddenly started cursing.


    The guy cursed even more after I tossed the other guy out there as well, letting both fall into a heap together. He was cursing and praying at the same time.


    Deepening my voice, I called, ¡°You¡¯ve got two choices! You can throw the gun away, or¨C¡±


    There was a clatter as the pistol was tossed over, bouncing along the floor before I could even finish that sentence.


    ¡°Well, okay then,¡± I managed with a little cough. Taking a breath, I walked around into view, staring at the man who was watching me with wide eyes.


    ¡°Whoever you are, you¡¯re gonna regret fucking with us! We¡¯re getting that fucking bounty, man!¡±


    Ignoring him, I moved over to the guy chained down to the chair. As he stared at me, I reach down to grab the legs of the chair. Powering myself up with purple paint, I yanked hard. The legs snapped off after grinding in protest, and the guy was able to stand up. He still had handcuffs on either wrist, but they weren¡¯t attached to anything as the legs of the chair fell out of them.


    ¡°Who¡­ who the hell are y-you?¡± he stammered, his voice shaking with each word.


    ¡°I¡ª¡± That was as far as I got before the sound of squealing tires drew both of our attention to one of the nearby doors, through which there was clearly a parking lot. People were here. And I was pretty sure they weren¡¯t friendly.


    ¡°I¡¯m the guy rescuing you,¡± I blurted, instinctively embracing the mistake that everyone seemed to make about my gender. It would help me keep my true identity secret. ¡°Unless you¡¯d rather get help from whoever just showed up.¡±


    The man¡¯s head shook quickly, as the sound of slamming doors and running footsteps reached us.


    ¡°Great,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

 Becoming 2-03

    I only knew where one exit from this place was, and that was one of the directions that people were coming from. So I did the only thing I could in that moment and ran for one of the doors leading deeper into the building. The guy who had been chained up was right on my heels as we sprinted through the open doorway and found ourselves in a carpeted hall.


    It was pretty dark in here aside from some emergency lighting. But I could see enough to notice the stairwell to our left leading up. Hearing the sound of a lot of people storming their way into the room behind us, I pivoted that way and started up. But first, I made a bit of black appear on my chest while shooting another bit of black onto the guy behind me.


    The guy stumbled, clearly taken aback when he realized there was no sound coming from him. Turning to him, I made a sharp jabbing motion up the stairs before grabbing his arm to pull. We could already hear people shouting back and forth in the other room about what the hell just happened. Thankfully, the guy got over his surprise quickly enough and we ran silently up the stairs.


    On the way, I finally had a chance to really look at the man I was busy rescuing. He looked like he was a few years older than me, maybe just out of high school. He was a pale, thin guy just under six feet tall, with scraggly brown hair that was in bad need of being cut and styled. Or at least combed. He had a goatee and had clearly not shaved the rest of his hair for a few days, given the stubble. His dark green eyes were wide with panic.


    Hitting the second floor landing, we pivoted to go up to the third. Unfortunately, that was when the door just above us was slammed open and a guy with a gun burst through. He saw us immediately, his weapon snapping toward me.


    Somehow, I was faster. A shot of blue paint went from my outstretched hand to the floor at the guy¡¯s feet. It instantly launched him up into the ceiling, making his gunshot go completely over both of our heads.


    The guy dropped, his gun falling while he groaned from the force of being hurled headfirst into the ceiling. But the damage was done. I heard people shouting below and running for us. So much for doing this quietly.


    We ran past the guy, hopping over his outstretched arm before continuing up the stairs. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure where we were going aside from up, but at least it was away from all the angry guys with guns. For now, at least. Once we ran out of building¡­ well, I¡¯d figure something out then. Hopefully.


    By the time we reached the fourth stairwell, the guy blurted, ¡°Look, man, I don¡¯t know who you are or what you¡¯re doing this for, but where are we going? I mean, thanks, seriously. But there¡¯s only so many stairs in this place.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t exactly be annoyed, considering it was the same thought I had just been having. Shooting the man a quick glance, I gave him an exaggerated shrug while deepening my voice a little bit. Between that and the way the mask and helmet together muffled it, I would probably keep passing as a guy. ¡°I¡¯m kind of making this up as I go. So if you¡¯ve got a plan, I¡¯d love to hear it. Maybe we could ask those guys.¡± I gestured grandly back the way our pursuers were coming from. ¡°They sound pretty helpful.¡±


    The man paused (verbally, neither of us slowed down physically) before admitting, ¡°Good point.¡±


    So, we kept running. Running away from what sounded like an army of guys who seemed awfully goddamn intent on catching him. I still didn¡¯t know why they wanted him so badly, or what was going on. And there wasn¡¯t time to ask.


    With the sound of stampeding bad guys just a little bit behind us, we reached the top floor. I looked around quickly before spotting a door labeled ¡®roof access.¡¯ It was locked, but a quick burst of purple paint let me kick it open and I half-dragged my companion through.


    One short flight of stairs later, and we were on the roof of this eight story building. The guy with me put both hands out and turned in a circle while blurting, ¡°Now what?¡±


    Instead of answering, I ran to the edge of the roof. He muttered something and followed after me. Below, we could hear the bad guys starting up the last set of stairs to catch up with us.


    Leaning over the edge, I looked down. There was another building next door that was about half the height of this one.


    The guy at my side started to ask something. But there wasn¡¯t time to listen. There wasn¡¯t time for me to explain anything. The bad guys were already bursting out onto the roof. We were out of time, period.


    So, instead of explaining, I shot orange paint onto the guy, covering his upper torso as much as I could. Then I used purple paint on my arms, caught him by the back, and gave him a hard hoist and shove. His horrified scream filled the air as he plummeted.


    Oh God, oh God. Please work. If it didn¡¯t, I was about to fit in with my family pretty well by becoming a murderer.


    To buy a little time, I spun back to where the bad guys were and shot a wide spray of blue paint. It covered several men who had already emerged, sending them flying in various directions as they were repelled from each other.


    Good enough. Spinning back, I hurled myself off the roof with a scream of my own. Only in mid-air did I mentally stop to hope that I hadn¡¯t just run out of paint.


    I hadn¡¯t. Spots of orange appeared on my feet and legs as I dropped to the roof below, crashing into a roll that took me tumbling end over end before coming to a stop on my back.


    I lay there for a second before the sound of heavy, panicked breathing reached me. Turning my head a bit, I saw the guy I had rescued, laying there with his eyes wide open, his face pale. ¡°What the f-fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck was that? What the fuck was that?!¡± With each repetition, he grew a bit louder.


    ¡°It¡¯s called rescuing you,¡± I replied simply before pushing myself up. ¡°Do you want to complain, or do you want to get out of here?¡±


    He chose the latter, scrambling up as well. Together, we ran to the roof access door for this building. Above and behind us, guys were already appearing. A couple shouted when they saw us. But they had no way to catch up.


    That, however, didn¡¯t stop them from opening fire. A few bullets ricocheted off the roof around us, and I let out a squeak of fear before I could stop myself. Grabbing the door, I yanked it open and unceremoniously shoved the guy through before joining him.


    Together, we raced down the stairs of this new building. Huffing a bit beside me, the guy stammered, ¡°Th-they¡¯re not gonna stop just like that, you know. They won¡¯t just give up.¡±


    Realizing that I finally had time to ask the question that had been bothering me this whole time, I demanded, ¡°Why the hell are they so obsessed with you? This is insane. You weren¡¯t just being mugged or something.¡±


    ¡°Being mugged?¡± the guy echoed, his gaze jerking to me as we hit the last set of stairs. ¡°Are you serious? You don¡¯t even know what¡¯s going on?¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Dude, I¡¯m kind of new to this. I thought I was rescuing you from a couple random thugs, not a whole pissed off army.¡±


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    The guy visibly flinched a little before nodding. We had reached the front door of the building by then. It was locked, but that didn¡¯t mean much when I brought a splattering of purple across my chest and shoved at it. The door broke open while an alarm began to blare. Great, that was just what we needed.


    Wait. Actually, it was. Maybe the idea of the cops coming would scare off our pursuers. Not likely, of course. But I¡¯d take anything at that point. At the very least, it might be a distraction.


    As we ran onto the sidewalk and, without needing to discuss it, pivoted away from the building we had just escaped from to run together down the street, the guy started to explain.


    ¡±Okay, it¡¯s about my brother. They think I know where he is, but I don¡¯t. Not that they¡¯d believe me. Ashton and me aren¡¯t exactly on the best of terms.¡±


    Grabbing the guy by the arm, I pulled him down an alley to get off the main street. ¡°Why do they want your brother?¡±


    The guy grimaced, muttering, ¡°Because he¡¯s a fucking idiot.¡± Belatedly, he clarified, ¡°You know that bank robbery at Prime International a couple days ago? The attempted bank robbery, I mean.¡±


    Blinking at him, I shook my head. ¡°Uh, not really? I¡¯ve been a little busy.¡±


    He gave me a brief look as we turned the corner of the alley and kept going. ¡°Okay, well, it was a pretty stupid attempt. I don¡¯t know if you know, but that place is run by La Casa. It¡¯s one of their banks. And a few low ranking idiots from the Ninety-Niners tried to rob it.¡±


    Nodding slowly, I agreed, ¡°Yeah, that does sound pretty stupid. But what does that have to do with your brother? Is he one of those idiots?¡±


    Again, the guy grimaced. ¡°Worse. He¡¯s the idiot who talked those idiots into trying it. See, Ashton worked at the bank. He convinced those guys he could help them get away with it and make a name for themselves. You know, boost their cred in the gang. But he was just using them. He waited until everyone was distracted by the morons, and then he took something out of one of the safe deposit boxes in there. I think his first plan was to blame the theft on them. But they got caught too quick.¡±


    We kept going, crossing another street to get as far from that place as possible while I murmured, ¡°Let me guess, it wasn¡¯t just some cash that he grabbed.¡±


    He shrugged a bit helplessly. ¡°Man, I don¡¯t know what it was. But they¡¯re all pissed off right now. There¡¯s some kind of huge reward for his ass. That¡¯s why those guys grabbed me. They thought I could tell them where he is. But you know what, I don¡¯t have a fucking clue. No one¡¯s going to believe that, though. That reward? Whatever Ashton took, it was worth putting a million dollar bounty on his head.¡±


    That made me stumble a bit. Even growing up as I had, I knew that was a lot of money for most people. ¡°No wonder those guys are so obsessed with catching you. What the hell did he take out of that bank?¡±


    He offered me a new helpless shrug. ¡°Fuck if I know. But it¡¯s got all of those guys pissed off beyond belief. He kicked the goddamn hornets nest and left me to deal with it. He¡¯s probably already skipped town. Which is what I need to do. I¡¯ve gotta get the hell out of Dodge.¡±


    He was right, I knew. For a million bounty, none of those guys were going to listen if he just told them he didn¡¯t know where his brother was. His only chance was to leave town, at least until things calmed down a bit.


    ¡°Do you have a car or something?¡± I asked. ¡°You know, a way to get out of here.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ve got a car. But it¡¯s at my house, which is where those guys grabbed me. And I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ve still got guys there. They¡¯re tearing the place apart looking for anything about Ashton. They¡¯d probably notice if I showed up to grab the car. And I¡¯d take a bus or a train, but I¡¯m just gonna guess that there¡¯s guys watching those places too. Like I said, these people are obsessed.¡±


    Slowly, I nodded. ¡°Then you¡¯ll have to take a cab or an Uber or something to get out of town. Get thirty or forty miles away and catch a bus somewhere else to go wherever you need to.¡± Reaching into the pocket of my costume, I took out the two hundred dollars that I had left. ¡°Here. You can probably get pretty far with that. It¡¯s a start, anyway.¡±


    The guy stared at me, mouth open. ¡°What the hell do you¨Cwhy¡­ who are you? What do you call yourself?¡± He still hadn¡¯t taken the money. ¡°Paintboy?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ uhh, don¡¯t actually have a name right now,¡± I admitted. I¡¯d been a bit too focused on other things to worry about that. ¡°I doubt I¡¯ll go with Paintboy, though.¡±


    His head shook. ¡°Whoever you are, you don¡¯t have to give me that. You¡¯ve done enough. I¡¯ll find some way to get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, ¡°this way. Here.¡± Taking his wrist, I pushed the money into the guy¡¯s hand. ¡°Take it and get the hell out of town. After everything that just happened back there, I really don¡¯t want to think about those guys finding you, okay? I¡­ you need it more than I do. Just go.¡±


    He took the money, swallowing a little while staring at me as if there was a dozen things he wanted to say. ¡°My uhh¡­ my name¡¯s Josh. Josh Austin. I just¡­ I just wanted you to know. I¡¯ll find a way to pay you back for this, for everything you¡¯ve done tonight.¡±


    Meeting his gaze, I replied, ¡°Pay me back by getting out of town and staying hidden. You have a place to go?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°I¡¯ve got a friend who lives down in Illinois. I can hide out there for awhile. But you know, you kind of stand out like that. And if I¡¯m gone, those guys that are after me¡­ they¡¯re gonna start coming after you instead. Especially if you make a name for yourself. You¡¯ll be a target.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Trying to sound confident, I added, ¡°Better me than you.¡± Even as I said it, my heart was hammering so much I was almost sure he could hear it. Shoving the fear aside, I gestured. ¡°We¡¯re probably far enough now for you to call a cab or whatever. Take the cash, get out of town. Go see your friend. Keep your head down. Stay safe.¡±


    With that, I looked around once more to make sure we were alone before pivoting. Clicking my heels together to make the wheels come out of my skates, I took off back through the alley we had come through. As I went, Josh called, ¡°When you pick a name, make it a good one! You deserve something better than Paintboy!¡±


    I didn¡¯t actually go very far. Instead, I waited until I was just around the corner before using red paint to climb my way to the roof of the two story building. Then I painted myself black, rushed to the edge, and lay down to peek down at the guy.


    Part of it was to make sure he actually made it into the cab and out of town without being caught again. But I also had to admit that another part was to see what he did when I wasn¡¯t there. There was a part of me who wondered if he was lying about any part of what he¡¯d said. After everything I had found out over the past couple of days, trusting people wasn¡¯t exactly at the top of my mind.


    If he was making any part of it up, he didn¡¯t give himself away. The guy fidgeted back and forth a bit before taking a phone from his pocket. I couldn¡¯t see what he was doing with it, but he seemed to be summoning an Uber.


    Sure enough, he was. I knew for sure a minute later, because I recognized the car that pulled up, and the driver inside. It was Adrian, the same guy who had driven me the other night, and had turned out to be a custodian at my school.


    Okay, so this Josh guy really did summon an Uber. I heard him speak as he leaned down, showing the money I¡¯d given him. ¡°Hundred bucks enough to get out of town?¡±


    Whatever Adrian said, it must have been an affirmative, because Josh opened the back door and got in. The door closed after him, before the car pulled away from the curb.


    Straightening, I watched the vehicle until it turned the corner at the end of the street. As it disappeared from view, I let out a breath that I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding.


    It was done. He was gone. Whatever else happened next, at least I had managed to save one guy, who at least seemed to be innocent. Maybe it wasn¡¯t a lot, but it was something. I had actually accomplished something that I could feel proud of.


    That was what I was going to do, I realized. I couldn¡¯t actually stop my family right now, not until I understood more. And maybe not even then. But I could make my own choices. Maybe my family were bad guys, but I could choose to be better. Until I actually had some actual idea of what to do about that whole¡­ other situation, I could just help people.


    Maybe it wouldn¡¯t amount to much. Maybe I could never make up for everything bad that the rest of my family had done, and would continue to do. Maybe no matter how much good I did, it would never be enough. But you know what? I was sure as hell going to try.


    And Josh was right, I should probably start by coming up with a name.

 Becoming 2-04

    A little bit of toast bounced off my forehead. When that failed to get a reaction, it was followed by an orange wedge.


    ¡°You know,¡± Simon remarked from the other side of the kitchen island where the two of us were  eating (supposedly, in my case, as I hadn¡¯t actually touched my food), ¡°if you keep not reacting, I might just transfer my entire breakfast over to your side.¡± Squinting then, he leaned closer and whispered, ¡°That¡¯s your plan, isn¡¯t it? Just stare mindlessly until I give you all my food.¡± He straightened, flashing me a knowing (and probably charming, to others) smile. ¡°I see riiight through you, Booster. You might think you¡¯re cunning, but you can¡¯t keep secrets from me.¡±


    I swear, it took every ounce of self-control I could dredge out of the pits of my soul not to look him right in the eyes and say, ¡°Wanna bet?¡± Although, thinking on it, that kind of would have proved his point to begin with. Huh.


    In any case, I kept quiet, staring down at my own plate of food without touching it. Not that I wasn¡¯t hungry. I was. After finally getting home so late that everyone else had already gone to sleep, including Simon, I¡¯d had just enough energy to crawl into my own bed and pass out. Now I was famished. But every time I thought about eating anything on my plate, I just ended up thinking about how it had been paid for. The thought of shoveling blood-money food into my mouth made me want to throw up, regardless of how hungry I may have been. I knew it was stupid. The food was already bought. And what was I going to do, starve myself? That would accomplish nothing. Even so, I just couldn¡¯t make myself get past it that easily.


    And yet, I also couldn¡¯t let Simon know anything was wrong. So I took a drink of my juice before mumbling, ¡°I guess you caught me.¡±


    Caught me? Okay, I really needed to think about what I was saying before blurting out things like that. Saying those words made me blink up at him. Luckily, he wasn¡¯t even looking at me. His eyes were on his phone, as he texted something while muttering, ¡°Like I said, can¡¯t get anything past me. At least, not without getting up pretty early in the morning. And from all that yawning, I¡¯m pretty sure getting up earlier isn¡¯t really in the cards for you.¡±


    He looked up then, smirking a little. ¡°What time did you finally get to bed, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Well, what do we have here?¡± The deep baritone of my father¡¯s voice suddenly and unexpectedly speaking up from the doorway behind me meant I was spared from answering Simon¡¯s question. But it also made my body jerk upright, just before Dad¡¯s hand came down on my shoulder. Then he was there, hand squeezing my shoulder as he kissed the top of my head. ¡°Why, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s my little oompa loompas.¡±


    Trying not to let Simon see the reaction on my face was hard. The only thing I could think of to cover it up was to grab the orange piece he¡¯d thrown at me and stuff it into my mouth. That at least gave my face something to do. And spared me from responding for a second or two.


    ¡°She¡¯s sulking for some reason,¡± Simon informed Dad. ¡°I think it¡¯s about a boy. Or a girl.¡± He winked at me. ¡°Did we ever decide where you fall on that scale?¡±


    At least they were giving me other reasons to be mortified by them beyond the fact that they were murderous monsters whose money was tainted by the blood of innocent people.


    Swallowing the orange in my mouth, I forced out a weak, ¡°I better meet Jefferson before he gets all antsy about being late. You know how he is about his schedule.¡±


    Dad ruffled my hair affectionately, his tone light. ¡°Have fun at school, babygirl. But not too much fun, I¡¯ve got a lot of meetings today. Can¡¯t really be pulled out of them to talk to your principal about whatever stunt you think is funny. Have a non-authority-intervention amount of fun.¡±


    Somehow, I managed to give him a thumbs up while slipping out of my seat. I even hugged him. Yeah, it was a one-armed awkward sort of half-hug, but I was counting it. Then I grabbed my bag and retreated from the room, while Simon called after me, ¡°Does this mean you don¡¯t want your bacon!?¡±


    I went back, grabbed it off my plate, and left again. Yes, my entire family was a bunch of murdering psychopaths, and I still didn¡¯t know what to do about that. But bacon was bacon.


    *******


    ¡°Alright, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a new day!¡± Mr. Dorn, my European history teacher, announced while coming into the room and crossing to his desk. He was a short, squat man who basically looked like a slightly taller body double for Danny DeVito. But he was also incredibly enthusiastic about teaching, and about history. It was pretty infectious, even for those who didn¡¯t care that much.


    Yeah, I was in class. Part of me had wanted to skip out again to go practice with my power. But that felt like a bad idea, especially after Jania had already intercepted one call from the school. Missing two in a row might make them actually step in for something more than a phone call. So I was here, trying not to think about what kind of things my family was probably doing in the meantime.


    Laying his briefcase on the desk, Mr. Dorn continued, ¡°I see we¡¯re all here except for Tommy B. Let¡¯s hope he feels better soon, or that he enjoys his day off. Either way, he¡¯s going to be sorry that he missed today. Because it¡¯s now March, which means that it¡¯s time for us to start¡­¡± As he was talking, the man clicked open his briefcase, reaching inside before pulling out a sheet of paper while triumphantly finishing with, ¡°Term projects!¡±


    A series of groans met his words, and the man repeated the sound right back at us. ¡°Yeah, yeah, it¡¯s horrible, I know. But you just wait, because this project has a twist. Are you ready for it? That¡¯s right, it¡¯s a group project. Each of you will work with two other people to write a six page paper, which you will present to the class in three weeks. You will have fifteen minutes of each class period for those three weeks to work on it in here, but you will also need to work out of class if you expect to get an A.¡±


    One of the other students raised her hand. ¡°A project on what, Mr. Dorn? What¡¯re we supposed to be writing about?¡±


    ¡°Very good question, Amber,¡± Mr. Dorn replied with a smile. ¡°The answer is¡­ whoever you want. I want each group to pick one person from the entire history of Europe and write about how their existence and actions shaped the world as we know it. I want you to write this in a way that explains how things would have been different without that person. There are people throughout history who have changed the entire direction of this world. I want you to write about them.¡±


    One of the boys raised his hand then. ¡°Like King Arthur?¡±


    Mr. Dorn coughed, shaking his head. ¡°Sorry, Ben. Real people only. Fun as it might be to pretend, King Arthur was never a real person. Let¡¯s stick with historical figures.¡±


    Another boy asked, after being called on, ¡°Can we pick our own groups?¡±


    Again, Mr. Dorn shook his head. ¡°Sorry. For some reason, people tend to turn these things into either popularity contests, or a fight over who gets the genius. You¡¯ve all been randomly assigned two partners. Right here.¡± He shook the paper he¡¯d taken from his briefcase earlier. ¡°First, we have¡­  Menna Blaese, Cole Whitney, and Evan Guthrie.¡± He nodded to each student in turn, letting them react to being put together before continuing on to the next trio. There were thirty-three people in the class, which meant eleven groups. One of whom would only have two today, with Tommy B absent.


    Eventually, Mr. Dorn came to my name. ¡°And now we have¡­ Cassidy Evans with¡­¡± He pointed to the girl who had asked what we were supposed to write about. ¡°Amber O¡¯Connell and Jae Baek.¡±


    Oh, wow. Jae Baek. She was an albino girl. An Asian albino. Which meant she kind of stood out. That was probably bad for her, considering she was also one of the shyest people I¡¯d ever met. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d heard her exchange more than a handful of words all semester that she didn¡¯t have to say.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Amber, on the other hand, was pretty outgoing. She had black hair that was tied into a loose ponytail, and blue-green eyes that seemed to shift whether they were more blue or more green depending on the lighting. She¡¯d also been a cheerleader for a long time, even back when I¡¯d done it in junior high. We were on the same team for awhile. But she¡¯d stuck with it for longer, only really stopping around winter break a year earlier.


    We weren¡¯t close or anything, but I did know that she¡¯d quit the team about a month after her dad had been killed by a hit and run driver. Which was¡­ understandable. She was better now, but for awhile there, even I knew that she¡¯d been pretty messed up. Not coming to class, getting in trouble, lashing out at teachers. She¡¯d nearly gotten herself kicked out entirely. But the school gave her some leeway, let her make up a few classes over the previous summer, and she stayed on track.


    I also kind of suspected that these groupings weren¡¯t completely random. Because as far as I knew, Amber was one of the few people that Jae actually seemed to interact much with. As shy and quiet as she was, it wouldn¡¯t have surprised me to find out that Mr. Dorn had at least somewhat helped things along by making sure the two of them were put in a group together.


    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve got your groups,¡± the man announced after listing the last set of names, ¡°go ahead and get together to talk about your plans. I¡¯ll give you all about fifteen minutes to either figure out who to start your project on, or, you know, when to get together and talk about it later. Oh, and don¡¯t forget, first come first serve. Once your group knows who you want to write about, make sure to tell me, because we can¡¯t have any repeats.¡±


    Amber and I pulled chairs over to where Jae was, the former cheerleader waving to me. ¡°Hey, Cass. Long time no work together. But hey, at least we don¡¯t have to do the frog squats or reverse to high knee lunges this time.¡±


    ¡°You know you¡¯re not fooling anybody,¡± I shot back to her. ¡°You loved those exercises.¡±


    She just grinned. ¡°You¡¯re right, I still do them. But they probably won¡¯t help with this.¡± Looking to the girl we were sitting by, she asked, ¡°So, Jae, got any thoughts about who we should write about?¡±


    The pale, white-haired girl peeked up from her desk, looking to me briefly before answering. Her voice was quiet. ¡°Maybe not an obvious one.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I agreed. ¡°Mr. Dorn would probably like it better if it¡¯s not someone he¡¯s heard about over and over again every year. Someone a little more obscure, but still really important. Not like Churchill, or Columbus, or Napoleon, or¡­ whoever. Someone important but different.


    ¡°Anyone got any ideas?¡±


    *****


    We didn¡¯t. Not yet, anyway. We¡¯d made plans to decide later. Each of us was supposed to come up with a few options and compare notes to pick one the next morning. We¡¯d meet at breakfast in the cafeteria, which meant I¡¯d have to ask Jefferson to drive me over half an hour early. He¡¯d probably love that.


    Actually, I genuinely didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d feel. It was different from his strict schedule, but it was also early. Hmm. Maybe his annoyance at the first and delight with the second would cancel each other out.


    Either way, I¡¯d texted him to let the man know that he didn¡¯t have to pick me up after school ended, because I was getting a ride with friends. In reality, of course, I was busy with something else. A few things, actually. The first of which had involved making a trip to the nearest specialty electronics store to pick up a couple essentials.


    With my new toys safely stowed away, it had been time to focus on the things that would take up the rest of the afternoon. Namely, practicing with my power and, with any luck at all, actually deciding on a name that I could use that didn¡¯t sound dumb.


    So far, I was having more luck with the former than the latter. I was back in that unfinished skating rink place again, where I¡¯d set up targets along the wall by painting various sized circles in pink, since I still didn¡¯t know what that color did. Using the circles as targets, I was alternately running and skating through the place while shooting different colors of paint, trying to hit the center of the circle as much as I could, with only a small amount of paint.


    It was a work in progress, that was for sure. I was missing the center of even the bigger targets most of the time, and missing the smaller targets entirely if I was moving at any kind of speed when I shot my paint at them. Running was easier than skating, but either way it was hard to hit the targets without slowing down. Especially when I used the green speed boost paint on myself. Hitting a target at that point with anything less than a hurled gallon¡¯s worth was basically an exercise in futility unless it came as utter blind luck.


    I needed practice. A lot of it. But fine. I was willing to put in the work. One time after another, I raced from one end of the large open room to the other, shooting paint at targets on both sides, as well as some on the floor that I had set up. Shot of paint after shot of paint flew from my hands, while my earbuds blared heavy rock music in my ears. Again and again, I would check my progress, erase all the paint aside from my pink targets, then do it again. I took breaks only to let my paint recharge.


    It was during those breaks that I thought about a possible name. That was¡­ well, hard. I¡¯d thought of several possibilities, and even painted some of them across wall just to see what they looked like. Some were¡­ dumber than others.


    Paintjob


    Paint


    Paintball


    Brushstroke


    Easel


    Canvas


    Palette


    Artisan


    Graffiti


    Technicolor


    Chroma/Chromatic


    I¡¯d already crossed out a few of those. Paintjob, Paint, and Brushstroke didn¡¯t sound right. Neither did Easel, so it was crossed out as well.


    But the others¡­ I kind of liked both Canvas and Palette, for the same reason. I would be putting paint over myself a lot. Graffiti was good too, for the opposite reason. I¡¯d be painting other things. Technicolor and Chroma or Chromatic sounded cool, but might be too complicated for a name. Artisan sounded pretentious.


    In all, I just couldn¡¯t decide. I kept wavering back and forth, and I probably needed to make a decision eventually. It would be pretty bad if I went out in costume again, only to hem and haw the second anyone asked what they were supposed to call me. It didn¡¯t seem like it would be very heroic to be like, ¡®here¡¯s a few options, which one do you guys like best?¡¯


    Oh well. After two hours of practicing my aim (and getting gradually somewhat vaguely better toward the end), that was probably enough. I needed to get home and at least put in an appearance, since the last thing I wanted was for anyone to get too curious about where I was spending time.


    But first, I needed to do something. Reaching into my bag, I took out the ski mask and helmet, pulling both on. Then I pushed the ski mask off my mouth, and shoved the front of the helmet up as well. Taking off my pace-skates next, I found the concealed button on the bottom of both and pressed them in together. Holding the buttons in, I spoke in a clear voice. ¡°Cassidy Evans voice code addition.¡±


    The skates beeped twice, and I quickly pulled the mask and helmet down. With my voice muffled by them, I spoke again. ¡°Cassidy Evans voice code addition. Code to deploy: skate out now. Code to retract: skate in now.¡±


    I tested it afterward. Sure enough, the skates responded, extending or retracting the wheels whenever I said the appropriate code.


    That was good, but it was only part of things. I wasn¡¯t going to rely entirely on the muffled effect of the mask and helmet to hide my identity, especially when it came to my family. They¡¯d see through that so quick my head would spin.


    I already knew that, though. That was why I¡¯d made that trip to the electronics store. Digging into my bag, I took out what I¡¯d bought: a tiny microphone attached to a piece that hooked over and onto an ear, with a Bluetooth connection to my phone.


    Holding up the earpiece, I turned it on and then opened the app on my phone before starting to slide through the options. Stopping on one, I held the little microphone close to my mouth and spoke clearly into it. ¡°Test, this is a test. This is a big, old, fat test. It¡¯s just a giant stinky test.¡±


    It worked. My voice was shifted by the microphone to sound like an old woman. It didn¡¯t even need a speaker or anything. Touched-Tech. Apparently whenever I spoke, the microphone would project its own little sonic¡­ sound¡­ disruption thing that would change what my voice sounded like before the words reached anyone¡¯s ears.  It tickled just a little bit, but I¡¯d get used to that.


    Then I found one that sounded right. It sounded like a guy who was maybe fourteen. That was it. That was exactly what I wanted. I slipped the earpiece on, then added the mask and helmet once more. The way it was designed, the small microphone part extended down under my ear, which prevented the helmet from digging into it too much.


    Clearing my throat then, I switched my phone to record, then started. ¡°Testing. New test. How¡¯s about a test? One, two, three, four, five, four, three, two, one.¡±


    Playing it back, I listened carefully. Yeah. Yeah, it worked. I definitely sounded different with that thing. It would work. I could add this voice to my pace-skates too. With that, no one would know I was a girl just by listening to me. And my family wouldn¡¯t recognize my voice.


    Which was good, because them not knowing that I knew about their real lives was basically the only advantage I had right now. And I was in no hurry to give that up.

 Becoming 2-05

    ¡°Well, if the project didn¡¯t specify only one person to focus on, I¡¯d say the Medici family would be good.¡± After saying that, Amber shoved half of a chocolate-covered ¨¦clair into her mouth while making noises of delight. That was quickly followed by the other half of the treat, and more happy sounds, as the other girl half-collapsed against Jae while smiling with delight. ¡°Mmmm¡­¡±


    The three of us were sitting in the school cafeteria the next morning. We¡¯d staked out a small table far away from everyone else so we wouldn¡¯t be disturbed, and were going over project possibilities.


    ¡°Medici?¡± I asked absently while flipping through one of the history books we¡¯d taken from the library. Not that we really needed books when there was the whole internet, but still. Having hard copy sources tended to make teachers happy.


    ¡°Super rich family in Florence,¡± Amber explained. ¡°They were basically this like¡­ banking dynasty for a long ass time from back in the fifteenth century. They¡­ hold on.¡± She glanced at her phone. ¡°Yeah, four different popes came from them. So did two French queens. They funded the invention of the piano and the opera, and Leonardo, Michelangelo, and maybe some other ninja turtles. Oh, and Galileo. Seriously, dude, they were like¡­ the money behind everything for a long time.¡±


    Boy, did that ever ring a few bells. If I didn¡¯t know better, I would¡¯ve thought she chose that one on purpose. It took me a second to clear my throat. ¡°Oh, uh, well yeah. If we could do it on a group or something, that¡¯d work. But Mr. Dorn definitely said ¡®single person¡¯. Maybe we could ask him if that¡¯s okay¡­ or keep looking.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep looking,¡± Amber agreed, looking over to Jae. ¡°What do you think, any ideas?¡±


    As she spoke, I took another quick look at my former cheerleading teammate. I still felt bad about how she¡¯d quit the team back when her dad was killed in that hit and run. Apparently the coach had said she could come back this year and just pick up where she¡¯d left off, but Amber refused, saying she was too busy. Personally, I was pretty sure cheerleading had been a big thing with her and her dad, and she didn¡¯t want to do it without him around. Too many memories. Which was too bad, really, since she¡¯d been one of the team¡¯s best tumblers. Seriously, that girl could do some pretty crazy stuff.


    Jae, by then, had answered the question about whether she had any ideas by passing over a piece of paper that she¡¯d written a list of names on. Amber and I leaned closer to look at it while I read the names. ¡°Laura Bassi ¨C female physicist in the eighteenth century, Nicolas Steno ¨C father of geology, Cleisthenes ¨C father of democracy, Lucius Vellutus ¨C successfully led a secession in Rome of the plebeians to advocate better treatment and actual representation¡­¡± Blinking up at the incredibly pale girl, I remarked, ¡°Hey, these are all pretty good. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard of any of them. Or if I have, I don¡¯t really remember them very well.¡±


    Amber nodded. ¡°Yeah, and they sound important enough to fit Mr. Dorn¡¯s request. Which one should we focus on?¡±


    Biting my lip, I mused, ¡°Laura Bassi sounds interesting, but so do the rest of them. This Steno guy is the father of geology? Cleisthenes is the father of democracy? This Vellutus guy basically took the working class on strike and actually changed things for the better? How do we pick out of options like those?¡±


    Jae shifted in her seat a little before reaching out to point to a name that I hadn¡¯t gotten to yet. Her voice was quiet as she read it aloud. ¡°Laura Cereta.¡±


    Exchanging a brief look with Amber, I asked, ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Writer,¡± Jae answered softly. She fidgeted for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the attention before pressing on. Despite her shyness, I could tell this was a subject she really cared about. There was obvious excitement and passion in her voice, quiet as it was. ¡°She was a humanist and feminist writer¡­ in the fourteen hundreds. She was one of the first people to actually write about female friendships. She wrote about how women should be educated, and how marriage should be a partnership. And she was smart. Like, one of the leading scholars in Italy smart.¡±


    After saying all that, the girl hesitated. She was obviously embarrassed and wanted to return to her silence. But her love of this Cereta woman pushed her to add, a little more quickly, ¡°In one of her letters, she wrote, ¡®I am a scholar and a pupil who has been lulled to sleep by the meager fire of a mind too humble. I have been too much burned, and my injured mind has accumulated too much passion; for tormenting itself with the defending of our sex, my mind sighs, conscious of its obligation. For all things ¡ª those deeply rooted inside us as well as those outside us ¡ª are being laid at the door of our sex.¡¯


    As she finished that, I swallowed. ¡°Wow¡­ umm¡­ yeah. Yeah. I mean, I guess she didn¡¯t really go discovering new continents or conquering other peoples. But she sounds pretty important. And I doubt she¡¯s at the top of anyone else¡¯s list.¡± Looking to Amber, I added, ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Her nose scrunched up a little thoughtfully. ¡°I think she sounds cool. Come on, let¡¯s see if we can catch Mr. Dorn before first period.¡± Picking up the books we¡¯d spread out, she stepped away from the table, while Jae joined her. I started to follow too, but stopped to grab something from the table that Amber hadn¡¯t picked up. ¡°Oh, hey, you left your¡­ pen?¡± I was blinking at it in my hand, not because a pen was so surprising, but because of the words written on it. Stamped across the simple white pen was, ¡®Prime International Enterprise¡¯. PIE. The bank that had been¡­ well, almost robbed the other day.


    Okay, it wasn¡¯t really that weird that Amber had a pen from the bank. This was a private school. Private school often meant money, and money meant bank. PIE had a lot of clients, most of them not evil or anything. Still, seeing it like that made me do a little double-take.


    ¡°Oh, thanks.¡± Amber took the pen, blinking at me. ¡°Uh, you okay?¡±


    The bank thing wasn¡¯t really a secret, so I just shrugged. ¡°Yeah, I just¨Cdidn¡¯t someone just try to rob that place the other day?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± The other girl glanced at the pen, taking in what it said before clearing her throat. ¡°Oh, right. Yeah, sorry, my dad used to collect pens and there¡¯s this whole big¡­ jar of¡­¡± She paused, swallowing. ¡°I just grabbed one. That was pretty screwed up though, huh? I mean, what kind of idiot tries to steal from the Super-Mafia?¡±


    I thought of Josh¡¯s brother, muttering, ¡°A pretty big one, apparently. Come on, let¡¯s go tell Mr. Dorn who we¡¯re doing our project on.¡±


    I really wanted to get this project done. Because I was pretty sure being a Star-Touched to make up for the horrible things the rest of my family was doing would take up most of my remaining free time.


    ******


    As it turned out, all three of us had study hall right before lunch. Well, they called it study hall. There wasn¡¯t really an assigned place to go, which made it pretty much a free period. So, since Mr. Dorn had agreed to let us do our project on Laura Cereta, we¡¯d decided to meet at the library at the start of that study hall to get started. I was there now, scanning through some old news stories about Silversmith on my phone while desperately trying not to throw up in my mouth at the thought that he was both a villain and my father. He had been my hero, and now I tasted bile just from looking at a picture of him standing triumphantly in front of a group of Scions of Typhon grunts and acolytes (their term for regular foot soldiers or Touched) he¡¯d helped bring down.


    Yes, it had been a pretty big deal to stop Trolley and Hammock (The Scions had some kind of weird thing about Touched names. They always chose completely random, ordinary words that were often unrelated to their powers and had nothing to do with anything else. Their leader was named Pencil). They were nasty, horrible people who had been in the middle of a murder spree. Stopping those two and bringing them in was good. They weren¡¯t just thrown in regular jail after being caught. They were sent to Breakwater, some kind of inescapable prison for the worst of the worst. According to the rumors I¡¯d heard, it was an isolated island somewhere that the most dangerous Touched were left on to fight things out amongst themselves where they couldn¡¯t hurt any innocent people.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    It sounded a little fucked up, to be honest. And I was pretty sure there were like a dozen different movies about why that kind of thing was a bad idea. But it was what it was. And as far as I knew, no one had ever escaped from it once they were seen as bad enough to be sent there. Which, Trolley and Hammock definitely fit the bill on that. They¡¯d been responsible for about sixty-seven murders just in that two week period where they¡¯d been on their main rampage.


    So¡­ so my dad had put an end to that.


    But he had also sanctioned other murders. Enough that it wasn¡¯t a big deal to him at all. So¡­ so¡­


    My head hurt. And so did my stomach.


    ¡°Hey, Cassidy!¡±


    Oh, thank God. Amber and Jae were here to distract me from what had quickly been turning into entirely too much obsessive brooding. Closing the news story on my phone, I quickly turned in the seat, only to find that it was actually only Amber. ¡°Hey, I¨C¡±


    ¡°Miss O¡¯Connell.¡± That was one of the librarians, Mrs. Mossing. She looked like she had been hand-picked from a casting department to play a stern librarian. She was old, with gray hair pulled into a severe bun, and she always wore frumpy clothes. ¡°How many times do I have to tell you, keep your voice down in here?¡±


    We both apologized to the woman, before I quietly asked, ¡°Err,  isn¡¯t Jae with you?¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, the other girl snorted. ¡°Gee, thanks. Now I know which of us is more popular. But actually, I just stopped by to see if she was here already. And to uhh, tell you that we¡¯ll have to take a rain check.¡± She looked apologetic. ¡°Really sorry. Something came up.¡±


    ¡°Something came up?¡± I echoed, blinking at her. ¡°At school?¡±


    Wincing, the other girl nodded slowly. ¡°Like I said, sorry. It¡¯s umm, it¡¯s kind of a personal thing. I mean¡­¡± She looked at her phone then, giving a visible grimace. ¡°Shit. Um. When Jae shows up, could you please tell her that Uncle Don is sick? You, uh, you got that?¡±


    ¡°Uncle Don is sick,¡± I repeated back to her. ¡°Sure, no problem. I can do that. And sorry to hear about your uncle.¡±


    ¡°Great, thanks!¡± Giving me a thumbs up, Amber turned to head back out of the library. She stopped to say something else to Mrs. Mossing before leaving.


    Watching her go, I shrugged. Well, if nothing else, maybe I could use this time to practice with my power. God knew I needed all I could get. I just had to wait for Jae so I could tell her about Amber¡¯s uncle.


    Or I could get bored after like two minutes of that and wander out into the hallway to look around for her. Yeah, I went with that one. Turning in a circle in the hallway, I looked around and ended up asking a few people who hadn¡¯t seen her before finally looking to one of the school¡¯s baseball players. ¡°Hey, Pat, you seen Jae Baek anywhere?¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey, Cass,¡± Patrick Aaron, a skinny black guy who was a star shortstop, shrugged. ¡°Not really. Hang on. Hey, Francesca, you seen Jae around?¡±


    The girl he was addressing, a slightly hefty brunette whom I¡¯d never shared a class with, looked over from her locker. ¡°What? Oh, yeah, she¡¯s in the ladies room over there.¡±


    Thanking the two of them, I headed that way. The hall was pretty empty by that point, since everyone who didn¡¯t have study hall/free period was either in class or late. I stepped through the door, already starting to talk. ¡°Hey, Jae, you¨C¡±


    I stopped then, because the albino girl was there. She was standing by one of the sinks, and as I came in the room, she jumped, quickly starting to shove things from the sink into her bag. But not quick enough that I didn¡¯t notice what they were. Self-tanner, dark hair dye, and some crumpled paper.


    ¡°Wh-what?¡± Flushing with obvious embarrassment, Jae stared at me, only seeming to belatedly realize who I was. ¡°Cassidy?¡±


    Oh. Oh God. There were tears. She was quick to recover and had already blinked them away, but the girl had definitely been crying. She wasn¡¯t just embarrassed because I¡¯d seen those things on the sink, she was upset.


    ¡°Yeah, I, um¡­ are you¡­¡± Remembering why I was there, I quickly pressed on. ¡°It¡¯s Amber, she wanted me to tell you that she can¡¯t make it. Apparently her Uncle Don is sick?¡±


    ¡°Uncle Don?¡± Snapping out of her embarrassment, Jae looked to me. ¡°She said that? I¨Cthank¡­ thank you.¡± She shifted the bag back up onto her shoulder then, seeming to shrink in on herself as she mumbled, ¡°I better go see if she¡­ if she needs anything.¡±


    Stepping out of the way, I let her start to walk past before speaking up. ¡°Um, Jae? I know this is like¡­ really none of my business. And I¡¯m probably overstepping like¡­a thousand different bounds. But I still wanna say, whether you use those things or not, I think you¡¯re really cool.¡±


    For a moment, I didn¡¯t think she would actually respond. The other girl was quiet, biting her lip as she seemed to debate back and forth with herself for a couple seconds. Then she looked to me, and asked something I hadn¡¯t been expecting. ¡°Why did you stop being a cheerleader?¡±


    ¡°Um. I¡­ guess because the whole reason I joined was so that people would stop seeing me as a prepubescent little boy,¡± I answered honestly. ¡°But it didn¡¯t really work.¡±


    It looked like she really wanted to say something to that. But she didn¡¯t. Instead, the other girl hesitated briefly before nodding to me. Then she headed for the door, leaving me standing there in the restroom by myself.


    I was about to leave, before noticing something on the floor next to the sink. Stepping over, I knelt to pick it up. It was a crumpled note. The same crumpled note that Jae had been putting into her bag with the tanner and hair dye. She¡¯d missed the bag with the paper.


    It was an incredible invasion of privacy, but I wanted to know if it was something I should chase her down for. Telling myself that if it looked personal, I¡¯d stop reading, I uncrumpled the paper and gave it a quick glance. I¡¯d just read a couple words, not the whole thing. Just enough to see if it was important.


    As it turned out, a few words were all I needed to read. And far more than I actually wanted to. There were only four words on the paper, written in big bold letters with a red marker.


    It read, ¡®Kill yourself, albino freak.¡¯


    Okay, now I actually wanted to hurt someone. I wanted to find whoever had written this note and beat them into a fucking coma. What the actual fuck?


    Crumpling the note even more, I shoved it into my pocket. My first instinct was to throw it away, but then I figured I¡¯d keep it. If I ever found out who wrote the thing, I might be able to make them eat it.


    Leaving the restroom a minute later, I looked around before heading down the hall. I figured that I could stop by the cafeteria to grab a sandwich from one of the machines, then head out for some practice over what was left of study hall and lunch.


    That was the plan, anyway. It was derailed partway there, as I was passing one of the janitors talking on his cell phone. ¡°Yeah, I told you, I¡¯m sorry,¡± he announced with a sigh. ¡°What can I say, Adrian never showed. Which means I¡¯ve gotta stay. Look, Judy, I know. I know what I said, but that was before¨CI can¡¯t just take off. I can¡¯t just¨Cdamn it, we¡¯ll talk about it later. Yes. Yes, later. Goodbye. Good¨C¡± Sighing, the man hit the disconnect on his phone before cursing under his breath.


    ¡°Um, excuse me?¡± I spoke up, waiting until the guy looked to me with an expression that made it clear he was surprised a student was talking to him. ¡°Did you say Adrian didn¡¯t show up today? Did he¡­ call in sick, or¡­¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± the man, whose nametag read Eugene, replied. ¡°Just a no-call, no-show. Which, for the record, looks really fu¨Creally bad on him. Unless he¡¯s got a pretty good excuse, he might as well not bother coming in anymore at all. Little piece of advice, you get a job you give a crap about, don¡¯t blow it off. Especially when you¡¯ve only been there a couple days.¡± Muttering something about being left to clean the locker room by himself, the guy glanced to me once more as though just remembering who he was talking to. ¡°Wait, you know Adrian?¡±


    ¡°Uh, we¡¯ve talked a couple times,¡± I murmured. ¡°If he didn¡¯t show up or call or anything, did anyone call him? Or, you know, check his house?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, kid, we¡¯re not his babysitters,¡± Eugene informed me. ¡°If he can¡¯t bother to show up or let us know what¡¯s going on, there¡¯s not much else we can do. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ve got a bunch of piss to wipe up from fifteen year olds who haven¡¯t figured out how to hit the toilet.¡±


    He left then, and I let him go. My gaze was on the floor, as my mind reeled. Adrian had never shown up. He never made it to work, never called¡­


    It could be a lot of things. But from what little I knew about the guy, he seemed responsible. Hell, he mentioned taking care of four little brothers. I was pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t just blow off work like this. Not without a good reason.


    Or a very bad reason. And the last time I¡¯d seen Adrian, he had been driving Josh out of town. Josh, the guy all those bounty hunting assholes had been after, so they could go through him to get to his brother, Ashton. Adrian had been driving Josh out of town, and now he was missing.


    I had a really bad feeling about this.

 Becoming 2-06

    Okay, okay. I had to check Adrian¡¯s house. Maybe he was home sick and just hadn¡¯t been able to call in. I couldn¡¯t panic too much yet. I could check his home. Of course, to do that, I¡¯d have to know his address, and I was pretty sure they wouldn¡¯t tell me at the office even if I asked nicely.


    So I had to find another way to get the address, and I had to do it asap. Because if he really was in trouble, every second counted. But how? How was I supposed to get something like that?


    The custodial office. It was down in the basement with a bunch of storage rooms. I knew that much, though I¡¯d never actually been down there. There was an unlabeled gray door just behind the east stairwell. According to plenty of other students, that was the door the janitors used to go down to their office. If Adrian¡¯s address was going to be anywhere, it was there.


    Unfortunately, I was pretty sure they¡¯d object to a student just walking in there. And that was a conversation I didn¡¯t want to have, especially if they decided to call my parents about it. I needed an excuse in case¡­ or rather, when someone saw me.


    Thinking quickly, I glanced around carefully to make sure no one was watching before looking down. Unbuttoning the black blazer with Cadillac Preparatory School written across it, I pulled it off and focused on part of it to make a spot of white appear in an uneven circle, so it didn¡¯t look perfect. Once there was a big blotch of white, I tucked the blazer under my arm and headed for the door to the basement.


    It wasn¡¯t locked or anything. The door opened easily as soon as I pulled at it, and I quickly made my way down a narrow set of stairs. There weren¡¯t supposed to be any students this way, so the whole place was a lot more bare bones. The stairs were concrete, the walls were unpainted, lighting was barely sufficient. It was all just as much as they needed, nothing more.


    At the bottom of the stairs was an ugly hallway with lime green walls and an orange floor. Seriously, who did the color scheme for this? It was just gross. I was absurdly tempted to just fix it for them. There were also stains all over the place, as well as chipped and broken bits of wall. It stretched on in both directions away from the stairs, with a bunch of unlabeled doors. There was, however, a white arrow on the wall ahead of me pointing to the right with ¡®office¡¯ written under it. Good enough. I started that way.


    As expected, I barely made it six steps or so before a man in a custodial uniform came around the corner ahead. Seeing me, he quickly walked over. ¡°Hey, hey, son, what do you think you¡¯re¨Cuh, oh. Sorry, miss. What are you doing down here? You shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    Adopting an apologetic and somewhat mortified look, I held the blazer up. ¡°I know, I know. But um, someone spilled something on my jacket and¡­ look at it. I was hoping you guys might have something that could get it out before I have to tell my parents that I need a new one again.¡±


    Blinking, the man took the blazer, staring at it. ¡°What¡­ this looks like paint. What happened?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Dunno. I was outside and it was sitting next to me and someone spilled¡­ something. They didn¡¯t stick around long enough to ask. Does that mean you can¡¯t get it out?¡±


    Seeing the hopeful puppy-dog look I gave him, the man grimaced. ¡°I¡­ I dunno. But fine, come on. Just don¡¯t touch anything, for the love of God. I don¡¯t need one of you kids getting hurt down here. Stay with me, let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got.¡± Turning on his heel, he walked back the way he¡¯d come, turning my blazer over in his hands as he muttered about why a kid had paint.


    Following the guy down the hall, around the corner, and through an open door on the right side of that second corridor, I found myself in a simple break room. There was a card table in the middle surrounded by several chairs, a long counter across from the door with some boxes on it, a fridge and microwave to the left, and another doorway next to that. Meanwhile, on the right side of the room there were several large metal cabinets and another long table with more boxes on it. There was also a second doorway. The custodian I was with went to one of those cabinets, opening it up before starting to dig around inside. I could see a handful of cleaning bottles, rags, and other things like that. He was turning bottles around, checking for something that might help.


    While he was doing that, I took a couple steps further into the room, glancing through that open doorway next to the fridge. It was an office, with a desk and an old computer. Perfect.


    Unfortunately, if I was going to use it, I had to make sure this guy was busy. But how?


    The doorway next to where he was working. Looking that way, I saw a storage room with a bunch of stuff piled up in there, including more cleaning supplies.


    Mouthing a silent apology, I pointed at a couple of those industrial-sized bottles of cleaning solution, sending a bit of red paint to them and another bit to the floor. One second later, I activated the paint, sending those bottles flying down with a loud crash. Cleaning stuff instantly soaked the floor, pouring out rapidly.


    ¡°What the¨C damn it!¡± the poor janitor who was helping me blurted as he stepped over to see what that sound was. He set my jacket aside and quickly moved to grab a nearby mop.


    While he was busy focusing on that, I silently slipped into the office. Moving as fast and silently as I could, I stepped to the computer, shot a tiny bit of black paint near the numpad to mask the sound, and typed Adrian into the search bar. It took a few seconds, but a few files popped up. I clicked the one labeled employee information.


    I didn¡¯t have time to read it. I just control-f¡¯d my way to Adrian¡¯s spot, made sure his info was on-screen, and took a quick picture with my phone. Then I closed the file and stepped out of the room. In all, it took me about twenty seconds or so.


    It was almost too long. I barely made it out of the room before the janitor looked over at me. ¡°Hey, look, kid, you probably shouldn¡¯t be in here. Hang on.¡± He stepped out of the storage room, moving over to take my blazer from the table where he¡¯d dropped it. Then he grabbed an orange spray bottle from the shelf. ¡°Spray this stuff on the spot and rub it in with a clean cloth. Let it sit for about five minutes, then do it again. Run it under cold water until it¡¯s soaked through, then spray it one more time. That should take care of it. Hopefully. When you¡¯re done, give that bottle to the nearest custodian. Okay?¡±


    I agreed, taking the bottle before quickly fleeing. It wasn¡¯t like I actually needed it, but I sure wasn¡¯t going to tell him that.


    Once I was out of the basement, I walked quickly through the hall while glancing at my phone to find the picture I¡¯d taken. There it was, Adrian¡¯s address. His name was there too, Adrian Perez. I typed the address into the maps app of my phone and got a hit of about fifteen blocks away. Okay, I could do this. I just had to get to his place as soon as possible. Like right now.


    I didn¡¯t want to attract attention, so instead of running through the hall once I grabbed my bag from my locker, I sort of speed-walked until I hit the nearest exit. That took me out to the side field, where I picked up the pace, moving past some people who were studying and eating, then started to jog once I reached the grass. Finally, I was running across the back field, ignoring a few of the people out there who called out or waved. I just had to keep moving.


    Reaching the nearest empty alley, I took a second to drop the bag and crouched behind a dumpster. Unzipping the bag, I started to yank my costume out. Changing right now felt like wasting time that I didn¡¯t have. But on the other hand, I could move much faster if I could actually use my power. And that meant keeping my identity secret.


    Stolen story; please report.


    Besides, if Adrian was in trouble, I doubted a few seconds right now would make that big of a difference. I just had to hope that¡­ well, I hoped for a lot of things. I really hoped he was just sick. Please, Adrian. Please just be so sick you couldn¡¯t call in.


    Once I was changed, I slid the helmet on my head, snapped the front of it down into place, and then looked up. The building I was next to was about five stories high, with no fire escape or anything to climb. Not that I needed it. In fact, maybe I really didn¡¯t need it.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I murmured under my breath before pointing with both hands. ¡°Let¡¯s try it.¡±


    With those words, I shot a spot of red paint from both palms. The first time I missed entirely, overshooting the roof. Then I adjusted down a bit and tried again. That did it. There were two spots of red paint right near the top of the wall. After that, I just turned my gloves red and activated the paint.


    It worked. Holy God did it ever work. I was instantly yanked off my feet, and hurled upward. A startled yelp escaped me, even though I thought I was expecting it. I went flying five stories into the air before crashing into the wall where the paint was. It didn¡¯t really hurt. I was only moving fast enough for it to feel like I had fallen a little ways. It still stung a bit, and I would¡¯ve lost my grip to really fall if the paint hadn¡¯t been doing all the work. But there I was. No running up the wall, no aided super jump, I just used my paint and went straight from the ground to very near the top of a five story building in the span of a couple seconds. Holy crap!


    Shaking off the amazement, I scrambled over the edge of the wall and onto the roof. Giving my phone a quick glance to orient myself, I looked the right way. There was another building around the same height and not too far apart. Then another beyond that one that was a little taller, and so on.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I announced aloud, checking to make sure my voice changer was working. ¡°Let¡¯s do it. Skate out now.¡± On command, the wheels of my pace-skates popped out. Then I pushed off, skating hard for the edge of that roof while silently telling myself I was insane.


    Reaching the edge of the roof, I put purple stars over my legs while readying myself. At the last second, I used the extra strength the purple paint gave me to leap over the gap between the buildings, five stories up. My arms windmilled a bit as I flew through the air¡­ before landing smoothly on the next roof over. The fact that it worked so well almost made it not work, as I very nearly spun out from my own surprise. But I caught it, thinking about Adrian as I pushed off again for the next roof.


    That one was taller by a few stories. But I was ready for that. Skating faster across the roof, I went right to the edge and jumped once more. This time, I snapped my hand up, shooting out a spray of red paint. Unlike when I¡¯d skated along the wall of the room last night and run out of paint, I didn¡¯t make a huge blast of the stuff. Instead, I shot out two thin lines, just enough for my wheels to hit. Because I didn¡¯t need to be exact. The second I got close enough and activated the paint while turning my wheels red, they instantly snapped to the right spots on the building.


    That was a bit jarring, and I grunted. It was going to take some getting used to. Suddenly, I was skating along the wall of the building. To my left was the long drop to the ground. To my right was the roof. And I was skating on a pair of thin red lines, right toward the corner of the building. My skates maintained their momentum, carrying me to that edge so fast I almost didn¡¯t react in time before hitting the end of both my red lines, and the building itself.


    But I did react. At the last possible instant, I managed to shoot a bit of blue paint right at the edge of the roof, sending myself flying as my skates hit it. My hand pointed across the street, and I shot a spray of red that way, hitting a building there before activating it. It took a second to kick in, a second in which I was literally free-falling off the side of the building I¡¯d just been skating across, and toward the busy street below.


    Then the paint kicked in, and I was yanked through the air, shooting right toward the building. Below, I could see a few cars slowing down, drivers sticking their heads out to look in confusion. But I ignored that, because I had to focus. Focus¡­ had to time it just right¡­


    Now! Before I actually reached that building on the far side of the street, I changed the color of my gloves back to white, disabling the yank from the red paint. At the same time, I shot another pair of thin red lines along the side of that building, while shifting my skates to match it once more. Just to be on the safe side, I painted a couple orange stripes across my legs.


    Again, it worked. It fucking worked. My body was snapped around in mid-air so that I hit the side of the building feet first, the orange paint helping me absorb the impact. Then I was skating once more, moving right along those thin red lines as I used the momentum from my trip through the air to keep myself moving even faster.


    Then I hit the edge of that roof. There was another building right across from it that was only slightly taller. Even better, there was an antenna sticking up above that roof. As I reached the end of the building I was skating sideways along, my hand snapped out to shoot yet another spot of red that way. It hit the antenna, and my suddenly-red gloves took me sailing toward it.


    I cleared the roof, raising my legs at the last instant to avoid slamming them into the wall before turning my gloves white. As the connection with the red paint on the antenna was cut, I dropped to the roof, landing on my wheels as the momentum kept me rolling onward.


    Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! I¡¯d done crazy stuff before, especially on the skates. But this? This was¡­ this was¡­


    This was so fucking cool!


    I eased up on the paint a little bit then, skating to the edge of that building before jumping to one across from it that was near enough for me to make it without much help. And that was basically how the rest of my little trip to Adrian¡¯s place went. I skated across the roofs, along the sides of buildings, jumped from roof to roof, and so on. I used blue paint to propel myself higher, red paint to yank myself around, purple paint to boost my jumps in conjunction with the blue, and orange paint to absorb what should have been damaging falls.


    Through it all, people noticed. I heard a few horns honking, and a couple onlookers waved. Maybe it was silly, but I waved back. Worried as I was, terrified as I was that something bad had happened to Adrian, I still waved as I passed them. It just felt like the right thing to do.


    Before nearing the place in question, I made sure to be less obvious, sticking to the top of the roofs instead of along the walls. I stayed low while skating across the last roof before Adrian¡¯s apartment building, pulling my skates in entirely before dropping to my stomach at the edge of the roof. There, I peered over to look down at the building in question.


    Right, it was a building. The roof was several stories below this one, and the place didn¡¯t exactly look like it was in the best shape. But I also couldn¡¯t really tell anything else. Which was obvious. I had to get inside, to Adrian¡¯s actual apartment. According to his file, it was apartment 5G. And since that was a five story building, it was on the top floor.


    The roof was empty, so I backed up, took a running start, and used a bit of purple to boost myself in a jump that way. Orange rings along my legs shielded me from the damage as I landed in a crouch on the roof in question.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I murmured to myself, ¡°stealth mode.¡±


    My costume turned black. In broad daylight.


    ¡°Stealth mode is easier at night.¡±


    Still, I was able to get to the roof access door and test it carefully. It wasn¡¯t locked. Probably so that people could come out here and smoke or whatever. Either way, it worked for me. I slipped in, carefully making my way down the stairs there.


    The sound of voices reached me, and I stopped abruptly before reaching the bottom of the stairs.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± one voice announced, ¡°they¡¯ve got him down at the motel. No luck so far.¡±


    Another voice incredulously retorted, ¡°Does this guy want to lose one of those little ankle biters?¡±


    The voices were coming from down the nearby hall. Very, very carefully, I kept my head low and barely peeked around the corner. Two guys. They were standing near one of the apartment doors, facing each other as they spoke.


    ¡°He says all he did was drop the guy off at the bus station. But the bosses don¡¯t believe him. They think he knows something else and just needs a little motivation to bring it out.¡±


    The second guy shook his head. ¡°Shit man, I¡¯m glad it¡¯s Ted in there with those kids and not me.¡±


    ¡°Got that right,¡± the first agreed. ¡°Course, it¡¯s bad luck for those kids in there.


    ¡°Because the second the bosses call and say to make an example of one of ¡®em, he ain¡¯t gonna hesitate.¡±

 Becoming 2-07

    Oh God, oh God. Okay, problems. Definite problems. There were bad guys here, and they were after Adrian for driving Josh out of the city. Worse, they already had Adrian somewhere else. Worse worse, his siblings were still inside the apartment with a guy who was apparently okay with hurting or killing them if Adrian didn¡¯t cooperate, while his two buddies stood guard.


    So yeah, problems. Tiny, innocent hostage-shaped problems. What¡­ what was I supposed to do about that? If I fucked this up, those kids could get hurt. Or¡­ or worse.


    For a moment, I was left completely frozen from indecision and terror. People¡¯s lives were on the line right now. Innocent people. Child people. What was I supposed to do? What¡­ what¡­?


    Who knows how long I might¡¯ve sat there like that if the first man hadn¡¯t spoken again, his next words penetrating the dense fog of panic I felt, like an arrow of cold terror. ¡°Boss says this guy isn¡¯t taking him seriously. Head in, tell Ted to break one of their arms and send the video. Maybe that¡¯ll wake him up. Make it hurt, it¡¯ll help if the kid screams good and loud.¡±


    The second guy grumbled, cursing under his breath before heaving a sigh. I heard the door open as he went into the apartment before letting it close behind him.


    Okay. I was out of time. Those kids were being hurt now. I had to do something. There wasn¡¯t time to call the cops, there wasn¡¯t time to get someone else there. As much as I might¡¯ve wanted someone¡­ better to deal with this, there wasn¡¯t anyone. It was me or¡­ or nothing. And if it was nothing, those kids were going to be hurt. Or worse, if this ¡®boss¡¯ guy didn¡¯t believe that Adrian couldn¡¯t tell him anything else.


    I had to do something.


    Shoving the fear and indecision away, I pushed myself up to my feet, took a breath, and stepped around the corner. Even as the man looked my way in obvious surprise, my hand was already snapping up to shoot a small glob of black paint that struck him in the chest. His mouth moved in a pantomime of a shout, but no sound came out. He recovered quickly enough from the surprise of that, turning toward the door to grab for the handle. Fortunately, I was ready, already shooting red paint at his back and at the opposite wall, to send him flying away from the door.


    Even as he hit that wall, the man was scrambling to grab what was most likely a gun from inside his brown jacket. But I didn¡¯t let him get that far. I was there, foot lashing out to kick the man in the knee while a purple tornado appeared on my leg, boosting my strength enough to leave the man a (silently, thanks to the still-active black paint) screaming heap on the floor.


    Before the silencing paint could wear off, I kicked the man in the face with that same foot. His head snapped back, hitting the wall before he slumped with what looked like a weak moan.


    Quickly, I reached down to check the man¡¯s pockets and jacket. Sure enough, he had a gun, which I took away from him carefully. He also had the phone he¡¯d been using to communicate with his boss, and I took that too, shoving the latter into my pocket while the gun I held gingerly.


    Giving him one more shot of black paint to stop him from warning the guys inside for a few seconds, I moved to the door that he¡¯d been about to open. Listening carefully, I heard nothing. Then I saw why I couldn¡¯t hear anything. There was a small pen-shaped silver device attached to the doorframe. I knew what it was at a glance. The thing was called a Hushnow. It was another Touched-designed bit of tech that stopped sound from escaping the area it affected. This one looked a little more advanced and powerful than the ones I¡¯d seen, but it was the same idea. That was why those guys weren¡¯t afraid of the kids making too much noise, especially if they were going to break one of their arms. They had this thing stopping any sound in there from getting out. Which meant anything could be going on in there right now. Just because I didn¡¯t hear screaming or crying didn¡¯t mean it hadn¡¯t already started. That was a fun realization.


    I had to get in there now. But I also couldn¡¯t let them use those kids as hostages. If one of them got shot because of me, I¡­ No, I wouldn¡¯t let that happen. I had to do this right. Which meant doing it fast and smooth, drawing their attention and disarming them before they hurt anyone.


    Thinking quickly, I knocked several times quickly on the door, then ducked below the level of the peephole. My gaze was focused on the light coming through the bottom of the doorframe. I waited until there was a visible shadow of someone standing on the other side of the door. Then, with a purple arrow appearing on my leg, I pivoted, reared back, and kicked the door as hard as I could. It was torn off its hinges and went crashing into the guy that was standing there. I heard him yelp and curse, though it was muted by the sobbing and pleading I could hear coming from deeper in the apartment.


    The guy who had been hit with the door had fallen onto his back with the door on top of him. I jumped, already painting a green smiley face across my back for added speed as I landed in the middle of the door as hard as possible before springing off of it. This front entrance was basically little more than a tiny hallway. Straight ahead I could see a dark bedroom, with a bathroom to the left and a larger room to the right. That was where the crying was coming from.


    In a perfect world, I would¡¯ve made sure the guy under the door was completely dealt with. But I didn¡¯t have time. The remaining guy, whether it was Ted or the other one who had been outside, would already be reacting to hearing the door crash in. I had to keep moving. On the way, however, I took a half-second to toss the pistol I¡¯d taken from the guy outside into the bathroom to get it out of the way for the moment.


    Sure enough, as soon as I jumped from the back of the fallen door to the room beyond the corridor (painting an orange bullseye on my chest just in case), I found myself in the living room where five other figures already were. Four were kids, two boys on the cusp of being teenagers and two tiny toddlers. The last one was a big guy with an impressively long beard and a full sleeve of tattoos on both of his exposed arms, his chest covered by a leather vest. To complete the ensemble, he wore ratty jeans and a pair of dark sunglasses.


    They were all staring my way, the guy (Ted, I assumed), already shouting a demand about what the hell was going on. He had a fuck-off enormous revolver in his hand, which was snapping up toward me the instant I appeared. The barrel looked like a fucking cannon being aimed my way.


    But my speed boost was still in effect. Even as the man¡¯s finger tightened on the trigger, I snapped my hands up, shooting red paint at the ceiling while shifting both my gloves and shoes to match. I was yanked upward, flipping over in the air to land upside down against the ceiling while the man fired that massive gun through the air where I had been.


    Yeah, I had my orange defensive paint up too, but getting shot still hurt. And being shot by something that huge would probably hurt even more. So given the choice, I would avoid it.


    As huge as it was, the gun was surprisingly quiet as it fired. Not totally silent or anything, but not nearly what it should¡¯ve been. Probably the result of another Touched-device or something. Either way, it may have been quiet, but the effects were anything but subtle. A huge part of the wall behind me was torn through by that single shot. Yeah, not getting hit by it felt like the right move.


    To that end, I shifted my shoes and gloves back to their base white, dropping from the ceiling even as the guy adjusted his aim to shoot that way. He got off another shot that blew a two-foot wide hole through the ceiling, while I landed in a crouch on the floor with dust and bits of debris falling everywhere. All four kids were screaming, the two older ones covering the toddlers to shield them and to hold them down out of the way.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Before the man could adjust his aim yet again, I shot a wad of red paint at his gun. The shot that had hit the ceiling had blown away part of the paint I¡¯d put there, but it left enough for the hand-cannon to be torn from his grip and sent flying up that way.


    Straightening up as the man was reacting to his gun being yanked away, I raised my hand in an exaggerated thumbs up with a nod toward the hole in the ceiling. ¡°Congratulations, chief, I think you solved the termite problem.¡±


    Behind me, I heard the sound of the guy under the door pulling himself out from under it. Meanwhile, Ted was yanking a knife from his belt, snarling something about idiot kids as he lunged at me. Quickly, I dove backward into a roll, my hands snapping up to shoot two tiny globs of paint. These ones weren¡¯t red. They were white, striking the man¡¯s sunglasses.


    His glasses covered by white paint, the man slowed, stumbling a little. His hand jerked up to take the shades off, but I was faster. Even as I rolled away from the man, a thought activated that white paint. Instantly, both globs flared to life with a brilliant white light that made the man yelp. Now he was really blinded, tripping over an end table with a curse.


    Unfortunately, while that guy was distracted, the one who had just pulled himself out from under the door had mostly recovered. And he had a gun of his own. As I rolled over, I could see the man stumbling up, using one hand on the doorway to steady himself while lifting that pistol. It was smaller than the one Ted had been using, but I was pretty sure it would still get the job done. Worse, the way he was aiming it, with the barrel jerking wildly all over the place as he fought to balance himself, he was as likely to hit one of those kids as he was to hit me.


    But he was standing on the very edge of that fallen door. So, from my prone position, I turned my glove red and shot more of the same at the door. It jerked under him as the paint was activated. There wasn¡¯t room for the door to fly through the opening, but it did shift enough for the man to lose his balance, stumbling backward as he fired a shot into the ceiling.


    Using that time to roll back to my feet, I shifted both arms to purple and caught hold of the same end table that Ted had stumbled into, leaving a red handprint-shaped bit of paint on it before flinging the thing hard at the guy in the doorway.


    It connected, the small wooden table slamming full-speed into the man¡¯s face. As he fell, I continued my pivot to carry myself all the way around back toward Ted. He had already managed to yank the sunglasses off his face and was fighting through the temporary blindness from the flare of white light I¡¯d hit him with. It was clearly still affecting him, as he stumbled at me, blinking rapidly while swinging that knife.


    I hit him again. Not with another bit of paint. Instead, I hit him with the same end table that I¡¯d just thrown at his buddy. I had summoned it back the instant after it collided with that guy, by activating the red handprint I¡¯d left on it and shifting my glove to match. It had flown right back into my hand while I¡¯d spun to face Ted, and I swung it hard, slamming the thing right into his face. Given the fact that I was still being affected by the strength-enhancing purple paint, it snapped under the blow, breaking apart into a couple pieces, while Ted himself collapsed to the floor with a bellow of both anger and pain.


    I still had a couple seconds of strength-boost left. So I used it, lunging across the room to where the guy in the doorway was. The end-table bouncing off his face had left the man slumped briefly against the wall next to the bathroom door. Before he could recover, I drove my fist hard into his stomach. The guy doubled over with a pained cry, falling to both knees while clutching his gut. Then he threw up, narrowly missing me.


    Yeah, I was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t about to jump back to the attack, the way he was laying there and groaning. His sounds basically matched the whimpers and curses of pain coming from the hallway where I had broken the first guy¡¯s leg or knee or whatever.


    ¡°Gee,¡± I said loud enough for both of them to hear, ¡°it¡¯s almost like you shouldn¡¯t go around terrorizing and torturing little kids. Karma¡¯s a bitch.¡± Though my words were dismissive, I made a mental note to call an ambulance for these guys. And the cops, of course.


    Speaking of these guys, Ted was still there. He had just started to pick himself off the floor where he¡¯d fallen when I broke the end table across his face. There was a dark bruise all along his cheek and up under his eye, and his nose was clearly broken. Also clear: the fact that he was incredibly pissed off. Bully for him.


    Before he could actually do anything about being pissed off, I grabbed his knife from the floor before dropping myself onto his chest to make him fall onto his back once more. The guy cursed, but went very still as I put the knife right against him.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I spoke up, looking over to where the kids were huddled. One of them looked at me, the other three still cowering. ¡°You guys have any rope or anything?¡±


    They did, and with the help of the oldest boy (his name was Leon and he was almost twelve), I tied all three guys up, hauling the one by the entranceway and outside the apartment into the main room with Ted. They were all thoroughly trussed up (and gagged, to make sure they didn¡¯t scare these guys even more) by the time I straightened, breathing hard.


    ¡°Wh-wh-who are you?¡± The other non-toddler kid, a boy named Cristiano who was apparently ten months younger than Leon, spoke up tentatively. He was kneeling next to his two younger brothers, Arturo and Tomas, who were three and two, respectively.


    ¡°Are you a superhero?¡± That was Leon, who was staring at me with wide eyes. He was clearly just as scared as his siblings, but trying not to show it as much.


    ¡°I¨CI¡¯m trying,¡± I managed a bit weakly. ¡°I¡¯m still working on the superhero thing.¡±


    ¡°Adrian!¡± Arturo called out, clinging to his older brother¡¯s arm. ¡°I want Adrian!¡± Tears were welling up in his eyes, while Tomas was just openly bawling.


    ¡°They took him, Mister,¡± Cristiano informed me in a shaky voice. ¡°Those gu-guys came and took him this morning while we were eating breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call him Mister,¡± Leon corrected. ¡°He¡¯s only like a couple years older than me. You don¡¯t call me Mister.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that stuff,¡± Cristiano pointed out, his hands gesturing to the tied-up bad guys. ¡°He can be Mister if he wants to.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly assured them. ¡°Just call me¡­¡± Think fast, Cassidy! ¡°Paintball. Call me Paintball.¡± I had been torn between that and several others, but¡­ well, Paintball sounded silly and fun, which was the image I wanted to project, considering I was trying to be different from my family. ¡°And I¡¯m gonna find your brother, I promise. I just¨C¡±


    My words were interrupted by a chime coming from the phone I¡¯d taken off the first guy. Digging into my pocket, I carefully pulled it out. He had a new message from someone labeled in his contact list as ¡®Denny.¡¯ It read, ¡®Where¡¯s vid of kid? Bosses getting annoyed.¡¯


    Shit, right. Ummm¡­ I thought for a second before quickly looking through the earlier bits of their conversation just to make sure I wasn¡¯t about to text in a completely different way than this guy tended to. It looked about normal, so I sent back, ¡®Snoopy landlord came up. Couldn¡¯t go back in apt. Pretended looking for new place. Getting tour. Will cut short asap.¡¯


    Holding my breath then, I watched the screen as the dots indicating the other party was typing came up. When the message that came through was a simple, ¡®k ¨C hrry¡¯, I let out that breath.


    There, that gave an excuse for why they hadn¡¯t sent that video yet. I¡¯d have a few minutes before they got too suspicious, hopefully.


    ¡°Mr. Paintball, sir?¡± Cristiano piped up. ¡°Adrian, I think they took him to some place called Three¡¯s Paradise.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a strip club,¡± Leon added. ¡°And motel. One of those motels. The ones that¡¯re pay by the hour?¡± This almost twelve-year-old kid gave me a knowing look.


    ¡°Three¡¯s Paradise motel and strip club, got it.¡± Grimacing behind the mask and helmet, I gave them a thumbs up before gesturing. ¡°Come on. I¡¯m not leaving you guys here with these¡­ assholes.¡±


    Each of the two older boys picked up one of their younger brothers, and we hurried out of the apartment. There were already people in the hall, looking around to see what the hell was going on. Shouting a warning about bad guys in the apartment, I looked for the nearest somewhat friendly face, pulling the boys with me.


    ¡°Can you call 911?¡± I blurted to the neighbor, an older black woman in a robe and nightgown who held a pistol in one hand and a phone in the other. ¡°Take these guys inside with you and call 911. Tell them there¡¯s three men in that apartment. They¡¯re tied up right now, but they need to hurry.¡±


    The woman agreed, and I promised the boys that I would find their brother. Then I took off, running back for the stairs to the roof while the rest of the neighbors lobbed questions at me. I heard the kids telling them what my name was, even as I took the stairs several at a time. There wasn¡¯t time to chat, there wasn¡¯t time to do anything except run. And there definitely wasn¡¯t time to stop and think about just how insane everything that just happened was. I¡¯d gotten into a fight with three guys! And won!


    But I couldn¡¯t just start patting myself on the back now. I had to get to the place where they were holding Adrian. Because if I didn¡¯t make it there before they either found out or realized that the guys here had been caught, they¡¯d probably cut their losses.


    And in this case, I was pretty sure that meant cutting Adrian¡¯s throat.

 Becoming 2-08

    Three¡¯s Paradise, the motel and strip club. That¡¯s where I needed to go. Somehow, even just putting that name in my phone to look for directions made me feel dirty. I kind of wanted to wipe down my phone screen with cleanser.


    But at least I got the address. The place was only about six blocks away, which I just had to hope was close enough for me to get there before they realized something was wrong with those guys back at the apartment and ended up doing something horrible.


    Thankfully, I now had a little edge in that regard. My little trip through the city earlier had already taught me how to use my power to get around faster using the rooftops and walls of the buildings. And I used that now, throwing myself off the apartment with a blue puddle that sent me flying into the air before yanking myself toward a high billboard with some red paint, running along the side of it, then leaping off to land on the roof of the next building over. Dropping into a roll before popping back to my feet while blurting the command to bring out the wheels of my skates, I took off again. Six blocks. I could get there in time. I would get there in time.


    At least it wasn¡¯t hard to find the place. Skidding to a stop on the roof of the last building, I looked straight at the billboard ahead of me. Given the risque image of two women fawning over a shirtless guy, I was going to guess it wasn¡¯t advertising McDonalds.


    Sure enough, peeking over the edge of the roof and looking down, I saw the building in question. It was far below me, almost eight stories down. There were three buildings arranged in a rough triangular formation, with a pool in the middle. One of those buildings had a bunch of neon signs on it, which probably made it the strip club. The other was longer than the other two, which made it the motel. The last one I was going to guess was the office, laundry, and whatever. The parking lot for the whole place stretched around all three buildings and looked almost completely empty aside from a half dozen cars.


    Right. This was definitely the place. But what building were they holding Adrian in? I could see a couple guys standing around outside, probably keeping watch. Nothing, however, gave me any idea of where the rest of the guys were. I was leaning toward the main office, but they might be holding him in the strip club too. And it was broad daylight. I couldn¡¯t exactly sneak around there very easily without being seen. Especially with those guards outside. Hell, I couldn¡¯t even get down there to look. Unless¡­


    Waiting until the view of both guys was blocked by one of the buildings as they patrolled, I took a few steps back, breathed out, and then ran forward while shooting a bit of blue paint down. I turned my legs purple to get more force while jumping straight onto the blue blob. It sent me careening into the sky and out over the lot, as I barely restrained myself from crying out. Windmilling my arms through the air, I looked down, waiting until my arc took me over the nearest building. Then I pointed down, shooting a bit of red while also painting my gloves and boots to match. Abruptly, as the red paint struck the roof, I was yanked straight down into a directed fall. On the way, I sent a shot of black paint down as well.


    Just before I landing, I painted my legs orange to absorb the impact and put a black silhouette of a hand holding up two fingers in a peace sign on my chest. Between the black on my suit and the black that I¡¯d shot onto the roof, my landing was completely silent. It wasn¡¯t exactly the best looking, since I crashed and rolled halfway across the roof, yelping along the way before finally sprawling out in a heap. But hey, at least I didn¡¯t make any actual noise. I got points for that, right?


    Grunting silently as I rolled over onto my back. I breathed for a moment before pushing myself up to my hands and knees. Listening for a moment just in case one of the men had spotted me, I heard nothing. So I cautiously crawled to the edge of the roof and peeked over.


    I was on top of the motel building. It was a small place, only two stories high, with doors that opened right into the lot. The two guards were walking together on the far side of the next building over, the strip club part of this whole glorious place. I saw them pass just into view for a moment, ducking back to hide in case they glanced my way.


    Okay, I was down. Bully for me. Now what, exactly? I still couldn¡¯t just wander randomly through the buildings, or just ask one of those guys where they were keeping their prisoner.


    I could, however, make the guys inside show me where they were. To that end, I looked over the edge of the roof for the parking lot where a couple of the cars were. Whispering an apology if they actually didn¡¯t belong to bad guys, I shot two bursts of red paint, one at either car. Then I activated it, sending both vehicles colliding violently into one another. With a spray of glass, the parking lot was suddenly filled with the sound of two horribly blaring car alarms.


    Yup, it got their attention. Both guys outside went running that way. They were joined by several others that came rushing very quickly out of the strip joint part. All of them were very obviously armed, as they rushed to where the cars were, shouting and looking around.


    Right, so the strip club was where I needed to be. Thanks for answering that, guys. You¡¯re super-helpful.


    Now I just had to get in there without being seen by them. Which meant it was time for another distraction. Looking down to the lot again at the guys who were all milling around the smashed-together cars as they tried to figure out what the hell just happened, I smiled to myself behind the helmet and mask. Then I looked to the other side of the lot, at a lone sedan parked there. Carefully, making sure no one was looking close enough to see my paint flying through the air, I shot a bit of red at top of the car. Then I shot another bit further off into the lot.


    ¡°Okay, boys,¡± I whispered under my breath. ¡°Go fetch.¡±


    With that, I powered up the paint. The sedan was yanked over onto its hood and went skidding that way. Shouts and curses went up from all the guys, as they sprinted after the car. That was the opening I needed. Painting myself green for the speed boost, with a little black to silence any sound I might¡¯ve made, I leapt from the roof of this building. A shot of red paint to the roof of the opposite one yanked me over to it, allowing me to land on the roof of the strip club.


    From there, I made my way along the roof quickly and quietly, moving away from the front where the guys were. On the way, I was leaning over the edge and looking down, watching for a window.


    There. I spotted a window about halfway down the building. Crouching there, I counted to ten, trying to calm myself down. I had to pace myself, had to make sure I had paint to deal with whatever was inside. That meant slowing down a bit and being careful. With that in mind, I waited another moment before painting my hands and knees red. With a bit of red on the wall, I crawled down along it until I was just above the window. Then I leaned very carefully to peek through.


    It was an office of some kind. An empty office, which was good for me. Trying the window, I found it unlocked. Another bonus. Before my paint could run out, I opened it, reached in to get a handhold, and hauled myself down inside, dropping into a crouch on the floor.


    Kneeling there, in the office, I looked around. There was a simple, mostly bare wooden desk with a nearby leather chair, a couple filing cabinets in the corner, two metal folding chairs in front of the desk, and an incredibly explicit calendar on the wall. Seriously, the bare gazungas on the blonde bombshell on that picture looked like they came straight off of the Hindenburg.


    Shaking myself away from that distraction, I focused on listening carefully. Voices. There were voices coming from somewhat nearby. Slowly, I crept closer to the door before listening again.


    Yup, definite voices. I couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying, but from the sound of it, they weren¡¯t very happy. Carefully, I opened the door, cracking it just a little at first. The voices still weren¡¯t clear, but I could tell that they were coming from a room nearby. Taking a breath, I peeked out, looking both ways down the short corridor. To the left was a hallway with a couple closed doors. At the end was an emergency exit that was labeled as being alarmed. To the right was another hall that seemed to open up at the end into a much larger room. Probably the dance floor. There were a couple other doors as well. And through one of those I heard the voices. One was raised, letting me hear a few angry curses, while the other was more muted.


    Before the guys outside could give up and come back in, I silently hurried to that door. Crouching there, I pressed my ear to it and listened.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what you need,¡± the louder voice all-but shouted. ¡°You need to answer the goddamn question! What else did he say? Where was he going?!¡± The words were punctuated by a loud slam, as if the man had kicked something over.


    That was followed by a quieter voice. ¡°I apologize for him. You must understand, my brother gets a little¡­ emotional when he feels like people are lying to him. Are you lying?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I knew that voice. It was Adrian. He sounded weak, his voice cracking a little. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ lying. I don¡¯t know¡­ I don¡¯t know where he went. I told you, I just¡­ dropped him off.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I hope you¡¯re right,¡± the softer voice murmured. ¡°I really wouldn¡¯t want to find out that¨C¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lying!¡± the violent, furious voice cut in. There was the sound of a hard slap or punch or something, and Adrian cried out. The angry voice continued. ¡°I¡¯m done. You¡¯ve had enough chances. You¡¯ve got four little brothers? Well maybe it¡¯s time you lose one of them.¡±


    As Adrian protested, he was cut off, his words dropping into a pained wheeze as he was apparently punched hard in the stomach.


    ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll just cut something off right here, hmm?¡± the angry voice snarled. ¡°Lose something off your body for every sibling you lose? Let¡¯s make it an arm for each of the older kids and a leg for each of the younger ones. Right at the elbows and knees. That¡¯s fitting, isn¡¯t it? You don¡¯t tell us the truth, and you¡¯ll come out of here without any brothers and without any limbs. They can call you Stubby. Stubby the only-child. Has a nice ring to it, doesn¡¯t it? Let¡¯s see¡­ older or younger, older or younger¡­ let¡¯s go with¡­ left arm.¡±


    There was a panicked shout from Adrian, and I couldn¡¯t wait any longer. Putting the purple outline of an arm showing off a bicep on my chest, I used the strength to kick the door as hard as I could, while calling out, ¡°Hey, assholes!¡±


    My entrance definitely got everyone¡¯s attention. As I shoved my way into the room, my eyes quickly scanned to look for where all three men were. I saw two right away. Adrian was chained up against the wall opposite the door, almost straight across from me. Another figure was standing right next to him. But that was it. I could only see two guys. Two. Where was the third?


    And then I focused on the figure next to Adrian, and understood. Fuck me, I understood.


    The figure wore a blue suit, with a red shirt and blue tie. His entire head was covered by a silver metal helmet. On the front of that was a glowing smiley face made out of soft blue lights, its grin wide and distorted.


    His hands were covered in gloves that were white on the first three fingers and black on the last three. Yeah, each hand had six fingers. Two of those were thumbs, one on each side.


    But having two thumbs on each hand was far from the creepiest thing about this guy. Because even as I stood there, staring, the figure turned around. Or rather¡­ his torso did. His legs stayed firmly planted, while the man¡¯s torso pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees to face me.


    I wasn¡¯t looking at the man¡¯s back. I was looking at his other front. His suit had a frontside here too. Instead of blue like the¡­ other front, this side was red, with a blue shirt and red tie. His side of the silver metal helmet showed a frowning, angry face made out of glowing red lights.


    Janus. That¡¯s what this¡­ guy¡­ these two¡­ whatever. That¡¯s what he¨Cthey called themselves. He¡­ or they¡­ or¡­ however it worked was actually two men fused into one. Like conjoined twins or whatever. Apparently they¡¯d been two different people before both had touched the same Summus Proelium orb. And now, they were one joined being that didn¡¯t have a back. They had two fronts fused together, each facing the opposite direction. Their head had two faces on it, one on either side. Their bottom half rotated independently of the top half, while each leg could twist a full three-hundred and sixty degrees. The same went for their arms, which seemed to have no limit to their rotation, able to function forward or¡­ their other forward as needed, while each hand had six fingers with a thumb on each side.


    They called themselves Janus together, but each was also separate. The smiling half was known as Uncle Friendly, while the angry half was called Mister Harmful. Mister Harmful and Uncle Friendly, Janus. Together (as they always were), the conjoined pair were one (two?) of the leaders of the Easy Eights. Not the leader. That honor went to the woman who called herself Deicide. Rather, Janus was/were one of the leaders of the eight individual gangs that had joined up together to form the Easy Eights in order to combat Oscuro. Now he/they were considered lieutenants or captains or whatever. I didn¡¯t really know much about Fell-Touched politics.


    But I did know, in that second, that I was in trouble. Caught flat-footed, I stared for a second while Mister Harmful glared at me with that glowing light angry face of his.


    Then his arm snapped up and extended. Extended all the way across the room, that was. Even though I was standing about nine feet away, the man¡¯s (Men¡¯s? This was confusing) arm grew and stretched all the way to reach me. At the same time, the hand itself grew to several times its normal size, until it was as large as my torso. It slammed into my chest, knocking me hard against the wall.


    Yeah, because just having two bodies fused together with incredibly fucking creepy range of motion wasn¡¯t bad enough. Janus could also grow and extend any of their limbs to absurd lengths and sizes. I¡¯d seen news footage of the guy(s) stretching their arm the length of a city block, their fist blown up as large as the SUV that they were punching. Because of course they had super strength too. They were incredibly strong and tough in addition to everything else.


    Basically, I was in a little bit of trouble. Oops.


    Mind racing as I grunted painfully from the force of being shoved hard against the wall, I found myself completely at a loss. I was basically panicking, as Mister Harmful stepped toward me. Their torso rotated all the way around, hand briefly leaving me before they spun far enough for the opposite one to catch on and shove me even harder back. Then I was looking at Uncle Friendly.


    ¡°Why, hello,¡± the man almost cheerfully announced, his smiling-light face focused on me. ¡°I don¡¯t think we know you, do we?¡± He looked me up and down briefly. ¡°And what do you call yourself?¡±


    His hand jerked back as his torso rotated to make me face Mister Harmful once more. ¡°Who cares what the hell he calls himself? He¡¯s a trespasser. He¡¯s¨C¡± He spun back, showing me Uncle Friendly briefly while he looked at Adrian. ¡°He¡¯s with him. He came to rescue him.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± Uncle Friendly asked, his voice sympathetic and gentle. ¡°Did you come to save this poor guy?¡±


    ¡°F-forget me!¡± Adrian blurted. ¡°My brothers! Just go, they¡¯re at¨C¡± He was silenced then, as Mister Harmful shoved a hand across the length of the room to cover his mouth.


    ¡°Nuh uh,¡± the angry man snarled. ¡°We didn¡¯t ask you to talk yet. Don¡¯t interrupt.¡±


    The worst part of this whole thing was that I couldn¡¯t even take advantage of his distraction as he focused on Adrian. Because his other half was looking right at me. The man literally had eyes (and a nose, and mouth, and everything else) in the back of his head.


    Then I remembered a very important point. I had powers too. In the shock of the moment, I had actually forgotten that. Oops.


    ¡°My name?¡± I finally spoke up, finding my voice after those few seconds of blind panic. ¡°It¡¯s Paintball. And you know what? I don¡¯t like you touching me.¡±


    With that, I covered my torso in blue paint. It activated, sending the enormous hand that was holding me against the wall reeling backward with enough force to make the conjoined men stumble.


    Before they could recover, I sent a spray of yellow onto Uncle Friendly¡¯s chest, slowing him down. At the same time, I painted myself green to move even faster. Dropping from the wall to my feet, I threw myself into a forward roll that took me under their oh-so-slowly moving arms, before popping up behind Friendly and in front of the already-bellowing Harmful. Spinning that way, pivoting on one foot, I painted my arm purple while slamming my fist as hard as I could into his chest.


    They went flying, crashing into the same wall that I¡¯d been shoved against. Which gave me a second to focus on Adrian.


    He was chained. How the hell was I supposed to¨C


    An enormous hand, almost as big as my entire body, closed around me. With a cry, I was yanked back, then thrown to the side. I put orange dots across my body just in time to collide with the window that I was hurled at. With a loud crash of shattering glass, I went flying through that window, hit the asphalt of the parking lot beyond, and rolled with a series of yelps.


    Lifting my head a second later, I saw Janus lifting themselves through that same window. Mister Harmful was facing me, his glowing expression seeming even more furious than normal. Worse, there were guards already running to surround me, guns raised and pointed my way.


    This¡­ this was bad.


    ¡°Hey!¡± That unexpected voice came from just behind me, as a figure abruptly appeared. I caught a glimpse of a skintight purple costume, with white arrows drawn in every direction all over it.


    That-A-Way. One of the members of the Minority, the youth hero team. And she wasn¡¯t alone. Even as Janus and the rest of their troops reacted to her sudden appearance, she was joined by the jester-like Carousel and Whamline, a guy in a black and brown army suit and ski mask with big metal gauntlets. More Minority team members. They were here. I didn¡¯t have to face these guys by myself.


    Was it weird that in that moment, with everything else that was going on, I still kind of wanted to ask for their autographs?

 Becoming 2-09

    The array of armed men seemed to hesitate slightly when the three Minority people showed up. Apparently they were okay with chasing down one Touched (particularly when they didn¡¯t know anything about them), but having three more of the known variety appear gave them pause.


    Or, more likely, they didn¡¯t know shit about me and had no reason to really be nervous or afraid. But they did know these guys. Kids or not, the Minority knew how to deal with armed thugs.


    With a sing-song, melodic voice, Carousel was the first to break the silence, her jester mask facing me. ¡°Whoever you are, you¡¯ve set a high bar. These guys are no joke. They¡¯re such dangerous folk. We¡¯ll help and give you a hand, then see about joining the band.¡±


    Joining the band? Was she talking about¨C my thoughts were interrupted then, as one guy (or two, rather) who didn¡¯t hesitate at all was Janus. With his Mister Harmful side facing us, the man cracked his neck before lashing out with both hands. His fists each grew to the size of a small car, while his arms stretched clear across the parking lot. In an instant, those massive fists were coming straight for us.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Whamline catch hold of Carousel before three glowing metal coil things shoved down against the ground to throw the two of them to the right. At the same time, an arm wrapped around my waist and the world briefly blurred around me, my stomach lurching.


    It was That-A-Way. She¡¯d grabbed me and supersped both of us out of the way just as those giant fists passed through the space where we had been. Now she let me go, before suddenly disappearing, only to reappear a few feet away from Janus. Her hand produced a small, handheld device of some kind, and she took a step that way.


    But the rest of those armed thugs had snapped out of their brief indecision by then. Several of them snapped their guns up and started shooting, even as I blurted out a warning.


    It wasn¡¯t needed. That-A-Way was moving east. She was invulnerable. The bullets ricocheted off of her, just before several of the men were caught by metal coils that Whamline sent at them. The coils exploded a second later, the concussive force knocking the men to the ground, their weapons flying.


    Carousel, meanwhile, used her own power to yank those guns into her orbit. They shrank down, spinning around the girl rapidly before she released them to fly one by one at other thugs, using them as projectiles. Except somehow she made the magazines stay behind, sending the guns back without ammo.


    By that point, That-A-Way had reached Janus. His Uncle Friendly side was facing her, apologizing politely even as he caught hold of her with hands that were as big as she was. The device she¡¯d been holding was shoved up against his hand and she triggered some kind of electric shock. Taser. She was holding a taser. And a pretty powerful one, apparently, since as tough as he was, Janus still staggered a bit and released her. Only for a second though, before his hand caught her side once more and he sent her flying, hurling the girl toward the nearby building. In mid-air, she teleported further ahead, landing on the roof of the building.


    Wait a second, why the hell was I just standing here?! I was supposed to be helping! I wasn¡¯t supposed to be some random rubbernecking civilian, damn it, I could actually contribute! I just had to get my thumb out of my butt and actually do something.


    Snapping myself out of that bit of open-mouthed gawking, I quickly spoke the code to make my skates pop out. Then I painted my legs green to boost my speed and launched myself forward.


    The guys who were still armed reacted quickly to my sudden movement, snapping their weapons my way. But my hands were already raised as I skated past them, sending a spray of blue paint at them. The paint covered their arms, guns, chests, even some of their legs, and the men were sent hurtling away from each other, their weapons flying. The blue paint even sent some of them into the air as it struck the ground by their feet.


    As I skidded to a stop somewhere to the side of Janus, I was able to take a quick look at what else was going on. The guys I had painted were all still picking themselves up from the ground, while Carousel caught all their guns in her power, disarming them. Meanwhile, Whamline had moved to help That-A-Way try to deal with Janus. He was facing Mister Harmful while the girl was on the opposite side, handling Uncle Friendly. The two-faced man had each arm extended in opposite directions, fighting off two Minority Touched with fists as large as his torso.


    Okay, okay, I had to help. But should I keep dealing with all the random mooks with Carousel, or help Whamline and That-A-Way? The guys had already been disarmed, and were still picking themselves up. But even without their guns, they could still be a threat. Meanwhile, Whamline and That-A-Way had Janus outnumbered (in number of arms and legs involved, at least, even if there was an asterisk), but he was still the bigger threat.


    Standing there, briefly frozen, my thoughts were interrupted by Carousel. ¡°Go help them!¡± she blurted while catching two of the tiny floating guns that were revolving around her, using them to point at the recovering thugs. ¡°This tide I¡¯ll stem!¡±


    Right, she had this. Pushing off with my skates, I focused on Janus. They were in the midst of trying to backhand That-A-Way, but apparently she was moving¡­ whichever direction it was that let her turn intangible, because the massive hand went right through her. At the same time, Whamline had wrapped several of his cords around the men¡¯s other arm, only for that to grow so large it snapped the cords. Before the boy could recover, that same massive fist collided with him, sending Whamline to the ground.


    Skating full-on straight at the men¡¯s exposed side while they were each focused on their respective opponents, I covered myself in purple paint and powered it up before launching myself at him.


    For guys who had literal eyes in the back of their head, being taken by surprise probably didn¡¯t happen much. They certainly weren¡¯t expecting it as I slammed into their side with enough force to knock the bastard(s) flying. They went back a good dozen or so feet before crashing to the ground, bouncing twice along the pavement as they ended up sprawled head over heels.


    ¡°Holy shit, dude!¡± That was That-A-Way, staring at me. ¡°Just how strong are you?¡± Something about her voice struck me as¡­ familiar, but that was probably just my paranoid imagination after everything I¡¯d found out about my family.


    ¡°Uh,¡± I so eloquently started, before being interrupted as a foot bigger than my entire body nearly slammed into me. That-A-Way grabbed my arm, and we teleported closer to the building. North. She could only teleport north. Unfortunately, that took us further away from Janus, who had turned their full attention to Whamline. The guy was in trouble.


    Quickly looking to That-A-Way, I blurted, ¡°I can make you really fast, really strong, and really tough for about ten seconds at a time.¡±


    I saw her eyes widen behind the mask. ¡°Wait, that¡¯s what the different colors you¡¯re doing mea¨Cand it works on othe-duuuude! I¡¯d kiss you, but it¡¯d get weird.¡± With that, the girl grinned. ¡°Can you get me back over there?¡±


    Nodding, I spun that way, extending both arms to spray her down with green, purple, and orange. Then I added a blue circle onto the ground. ¡°Trampoline!¡±


    To her credit, she understood immediately. Maybe she¡¯d seen what happened when I sprayed those other guys with it. Either way, the girl lunged onto the blue paint, even as I activated all of that paint.


    She hit it, bouncing off it and forward to propel herself through the air with a loud whoop. Between the blue paint bouncing her and the purple strength-boost, she went fast enough to collide with Janus before they could even think about reacting. They stumbled sideways, falling to one knee when the girl drove her knee into Uncle Friendly¡¯s stomach, then onto his back (Mister Harmful¡¯s front) when she swung both arms hard into his face.


    By that point, Whamline had recovered enough to send several metal coils to latch onto the fallen man¡¯s arms, holding him down. It would only last for a second. But a second was long enough, given the speed boost I¡¯d given her, for That-A-Way to produce that taser thing in her hand again. Without hesitation, she jammed it into Uncle Friendly¡¯s chest and triggered it while both he and Mister Harmful (the latter muffled by being against the pavement) bellowed out loud and spasmed violently.


    Unfortunately, while that was enough to hurt them, it wasn¡¯t enough to take them down. Their arms snapped out of the coils that Whamline was using, before they planted their palms against the ground and extended their arms to shove themselves upright. That-A-Way was dumped onto the ground just before one of those massive hands caught hold of her and threw the girl straight at Whamline. He caught her with a couple of his coils, stumbling backward a step.


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    Mister Harmful was glaring at me. Just as I realized that, my gaze meeting his, they twisted their legs around so that their feet were facing my way. Then they were running at me. Those long, enormous arms were incoming, and they extended their legs with each step to cover a lot more ground than they should have. Suddenly I had two giant hands, bigger than I was, about to slam into me from either side. It was like a guy clapping his hands around a fly.


    With what was probably a pretty undignified yelp, I covered my entire costume from head to toe in blue and orange stripes, then put my arms over my head. I would¡¯ve prayed, but there wasn¡¯t time. Those giant hands clapped against me from either side, slamming into my body with enough force that I felt it even with the orange paint. Without it, I probably would¡¯ve ended up with at least a half-dozen broken bones. As it was, it just hurt enough for me to collapse to one knee.


    But Janus paid for it too. Because that blue paint I¡¯d also covered myself with made their giant hands instantly snap backward away from me. Suddenly, their arms were flailing back behind themselves just as their charge brought them right in front of me.


    Mister Harmful¡¯s face was right there. His shared arms had no chance of getting back in to block anything. One of their legs was extended (quite a ways in fact) behind him, while the other had just come down. They would recover quickly, but for that one single instant, the conjoined-man was completely open.


    So I did what any rational, totally normal person would do in that moment. I painted my entire costume purple and hurled myself into the hardest leaping uppercut I could manage, right into the man¡¯s chin. While, of course, screaming, ¡°Shoryuken!¡±


    The blow was right on target, knocking Mister Harmful¡¯s head back, his eyes briefly crossing. They stumbled, almost falling. Teeth and blood went flying, and his jaw looked wrong, like it was broken. When his head snapped back upright, his eyes were closed. They stayed that way, and I realized that he had actually fallen unconscious.


    Unfortunately, apparently knocking out one of Janus¡¯s halves didn¡¯t knock them both out. I wasn¡¯t¡­ sure how that worked. But then again, I wasn¡¯t sure how any of their stuff worked. Either way, Uncle Friendly was still awake. His head snapped around to look at me, pausing very briefly. But Whamline and That-A-Way were already coming, and it looked like the troops that Carousel had been dealing with had all made a break for it. They were scattering, leaving Uncle Friendly as only one half of Janus left to deal with the rest of us.


    He clearly didn¡¯t like those odds, because the man suddenly lunged past me. His legs extended up like stilts, allowing him to quickly reach the roof of the motel. From there he jumped, extending both his legs and his arms to grab the roof of another building before hauling himself up there as well. Then he was gone.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Whamline finally spoke while looking my way. ¡°I¡¯d say we should go after him, but maybe finding out what¡¯s going on is¨C¡±


    Eyes widening behind my mask and helmet, I remembered the entire reason I¡¯d done any of this. My mouth started to blurt out Adrian¡¯s name. But then I realized that saying his name would probably be a bad idea as far as keeping my identity secret. Every little clue helped, after all. So, I managed to keep myself to a simple, ¡°They had a hostage!¡± Then I was running back to the strip club. Behind me, I heard a few muttered words before the sound of the other three following.


    Making my way quickly back to the room in question, I found Adrian still there. Which made sense, considering he was chained against that wall. Where else was he going to go?


    He was also very confused about what was going on, visibly jumping as I came through the door. His eyes widened, and he blurted, ¡°You won?!¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± I muttered before added, ¡°I had help.¡±


    The three Minority members made it then, all of them doing a brief double-take at what they saw. Carousel was the first to find her voice. ¡°This thing we¡¯re observing¡­ is somewhat unnerving.¡±


    ¡°Okay, no idea what¡¯s going on here,¡± That-A-Way announced, ¡°but I¡¯m pretty sure we should get this guy out of those chains.¡±


    Whamline did just that, by creating two of his own coils, wrapping them tightly around the chains, and making a contained explosion that broke the chains off the wall. They were still attached to the man¡¯s wrists, but at least he could move.


    ¡°No, no, no! Not me!¡± Adrian was suddenly stammering, his eyes wild. ¡°My family, they¡¯ve got my little brothers back at the apartment! They¡¯ll hurt them! They¡¯ll¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re safe,¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°They¡¯re staying with a neighbor. I sent them there before coming this way. I promise, I already made sure they were okay and, um, dealt with the bad guys there. That¡¯s why they couldn¡¯t call back.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you saved my¡­¡± That was as far as Adrian got before he was just grabbing me off the ground. His arms wrapped around me tightly and I was hauled up to be crushed against his chest. ¡°Oh God. Thank you. Thank you, thank you. What¨Cwho the hell¡­ who¡­ how did you¡­¡±


    Wanting to head off any of that line of questioning, I quickly squirmed free and dropped to the floor, looking over to the Minority people, who looked utterly baffled. ¡°That bank robbery the other day, the one at the La Casa place. One of the guys who worked there, Ashton Austin, set the whole thing up. He tricked those Ninety-Niner guys into robbing the place as a distraction so he could take something out of a safe deposit box. Now he¡¯s on the run and everyone¡¯s after him to get whatever it was. There¡¯s a million dollar bounty on him. Some other guys were after his brother, Josh, and this guy gave Josh a ride out of town. That¡¯s why these guys took him, because they think he knows where Josh is, and they think Josh knows where his brother is.¡±


    Wow, spelling it all out like that, this was a really complicated situation. And that was before you added in any of my personal stuff. But apparently I did a good enough job of explaining, because Whamline immediately nodded after giving the other two a quick look. ¡°Okay, come on. We¡¯ll get you back to your apartment, make sure your siblings are okay, then get your family into protective custody. It¡¯ll be okay.¡±


    Letting those guys take over, I slipped back. That was enough. I could leave now. I had to get back to school anyway, before I ended up getting in trouble. Taking a deep breath, I allowed myself to smile a little at the look of intense relief and joy on Adrian¡¯s face as the fact that he and his family were safe sank in. Then I turned, slipping out of the room as quietly as possible.


    I made it just out of the building before That-A-Way caught up. ¡°Hey, hold on!¡± she blurted, catching my attention. As I pivoted, she stopped, both of us standing there in the parking lot. ¡°Um, what do you call yourself?¡±


    Hesitating just for a second, I swallowed before replying, ¡°Um, Paintball?¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± the other girl echoed, head tilting a little. ¡°That¡¯s cool, man. And hey, you did really good back there. I mean, really good for someone that¡¯s new to all this. You¡­ are new to it, right? When we saw you running across the city back there, you looked awesome. Whammy thought you just moved here from somewhere else. But I think you¡¯re new.¡±


    Resisting the urge to keep silent or be more secretive, I gave a tiny nod. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ new.¡± That was safe enough to say, right? They couldn¡¯t get anything about who I really was from that.


    ¡°Well, you look really cool,¡± That-A-Way informed me. ¡°So if you ever want to¡­ you know¡­ join¡­¡±


    She said something else after that, but all I could think about was how much I really hated the fact that my dad was both a bad guy and Silversmith. Because there was basically nothing I wanted more than to say yes. Working with the Minority? How cool would that be?! Seriously. I wanted to. But I couldn¡¯t. It was too risky. The Minority worked under the authority of the adult heroes of the Spartans and the Conservators. And Silversmith, my evil dad, was leader of the Conservators. There was way too big of a chance that he would find out who I was, no matter how careful I might¡¯ve been.


    Something in my body language must¡¯ve given me away, because That-A-Way stopped talking. She paused, biting her lip before adding, ¡°But if you don¡¯t want to do that, you should still take this.¡± She was holding something out to me. It was a simple white business card, entirely blank aside from a single phone number. ¡°If you change your mind, or you need help with something, or you just want to train, or¡­ or whatever. Call that. One of us will answer. We can help, I promise. You know, with¡­ whatever you need.¡± It looked like she wanted to say something else, but left it at that.


    Help with whatever I needed. God, I wished that was true. I wished I could just tell her everything I knew about Silversmith, about all of it. But that was too risky. I didn¡¯t know if she would believe me, or if she was part of Dad¡¯s whole corrupt crew, or if anyone she would talk to was. I just¡­ didn¡¯t know. And that made it too risky.


    Swallowing hard, I took the offered card while trying not to react too much. ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured, not knowing what else to say.


    For another few seconds, the two of us stood there, staring at each other. Then I popped my skates out, pivoted, and took off with the business card clutched tight in one hand.


    Maybe I couldn¡¯t tell the Minority everything just yet. But things were still pretty good. I¡¯d helped save Adrian, after rescuing his little brothers. I¡¯d made a few possible new friends from the Minority, people who might actually be able to help at some point.


    But, I realized upon remembering the look in Uncle Friendly¡¯s face after I¡¯d knocked out Mister Harmful, I¡¯d also made enemies. Powerful ones.


    And on top of everything else, I was late for sixth period, and I never got any lunch.

 Interlude 2A - Blackjack

    Three Years Ago


    A black car, indistinguishable from any other similar luxury sedan, pulled around the corner of the parking garage. Ahead, a dozen men stood in the open space near a couple of lonely cars, while the rest of the spots remained empty. Of those men, ten held odd-looking submachine guns and wore what appeared to be white lab coats over dark body armor. Their outfits signified them as members of the so-called Braintrust, the Fell-Gang focused around inventions and super science.


    The remaining two men, meanwhile, were even more clearly members of that gang. The first, a taller man (just under seven feet) and rather heavyset, wore a white surgical mask and what looked like medical scrubs with various scalpels and other tools filling the pockets. His white hair was very long, falling to his shoulders. The man beside him was much shorter, standing just a hair over five and a half feet. His own costume consisted of several pieces of what appeared to be scavenged robot pieces haphazardly stuck to his body, and a helmet that was straight out of an ancient black and white sci fi movie. It looked like a metal ball with a grill around the entire front like a small car radiator and several antenna sticking out of it in every direction.


    The pair, who worked together quite often, were known as Leech and Rotwang, respectively. Just in front of them on the ground sat a silver briefcase with a thumbprint scanner. All of the dozen assembled figures watched the dark sedan without moving or speaking.


    For a moment, the car remained motionless as well. Then it rolled forward the rest of the way, approaching to within ten feet or so before the engine was shut off. The sole figure within the car watched the group for a brief handful of seconds, before opening the door to get out. This new arrival was also clearly Touched. He wore a pair of perfectly tailored black slacks, dark leather shoes polished to a gleaming shine, a black shirt with a matching bolo tie that had a red gem sitting right at the collar, and a white duster coat that fell to his ankles. His entire head was covered by a black helmet with an attached golden mask in the shape of a face. Finally, the thin gloves he wore matched the gold mask.


    ¡°That¡¯s far enough, Blackjack,¡± Leech spoke up the moment their guest had stepped out of his car. The tall man nodded to one of the nearby troops. ¡°Go scan it.¡±


    It was impossible to see the newcomer¡¯s face, but his body language expressed something resembling amusement, as he gestured to the car once before starting to put his hands in his pockets.


    ¡°Hey!¡± That was Rotwang, the robotics-focused Fell-Touched pointing. ¡°You¨Cyou get your hands out where we can see them.¡±


    Head tilting a little, the man known as Blackjack obediently took his hands from his pockets. He showed them, first his palms and then the back of his hands, like a magician proving he had nothing in them just before a trick. Which did nothing to ease the trepidation of the men watching him, for some reason.


    By that point, one of the Braintrust troops had picked up a long, tube-like device the length of a rolling pin, with a bright blue light at one end and buttons at the other. He ran it over the car, moving slowly from the front to the back, then up again on the opposite side. He tensed up a bit while passing close to Blackjack, finishing his work and quickly stepping a bit further away before looking to his bosses. ¡°Nothing. No one else in the car.¡±


    ¡°You did say to come alone,¡± Blackjack idly reminded them, his body language far more relaxed than the openly armed and more numerous group.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Leech agreed, ¡°we did. But you know, call me crazy, lots of people do, I just don¡¯t see the leader of La Casa actually going anywhere without back-up. You don¡¯t seem that stupid.¡±


    In response, Blackjack simply lifted his head slightly. ¡°We¡¯re here to do business, gentlemen. It¡¯s a simple transaction. Although¡­¡± He turned just a bit to look at the case on the ground. ¡°As technologically-apt as your organization is, I would find it surprising if you were to fit what I came for into something that small.¡±


    Quickly, Rotwang blurted, ¡°We¡¯re not ripping you off. Business transaction, like you said.¡± He pointed at the case, the robot-like gauntlet on his arm glowing blue as the case floated up from the ground and came to him. ¡°Right in here, we¡¯ve got just what you need. Three doses of super soldier serum. They¡¯ll make any trio of people you want as strong, as fast, as good as any Olympic level athlete, as good as the best special forces soldier out there.¡±


    For the first time, a hint of something other than amusement entered Blackjack¡¯s voice. ¡°That is quite impressive. But it¡¯s not what I came for. It¡¯s not what we agreed to.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we know,¡± Leech assured him. ¡°You came for Worth. And he¡¯s here. He¡¯ll walk you through whatever you need to make sure you understand how to use that stuff. But sorry, he can¡¯t go with you. But like my friend here said, we¡¯re not ripping you off. You asked for Worth¡¯s help in producing one super soldier. We¡¯re giving you enough serum to make three, and not charging you any more than you already agreed to. You¡¯re coming out plenty ahead in this deal.¡±


    After a very brief pause, the La Casa leader exhaled. ¡°When one comes to an agreement, it is best to stick to that. I didn¡¯t come for three doses of a super soldier serum. I came for Dr. Worthy himself. He and I agreed to the terms of his temporary employment by me. Not for some of his medicine, for the man himself. He will be coming with me. That is what was arranged.¡±


    ¡°Now, see, you¡¯re not listening.¡± Leech shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s okay. We¡¯ll work this out. Worth!¡± Raising his voice, he looked over to one of the nearby cars until another man emerged. This one wore no costume, though he was indeed Touched. A personal preference. He was an older man, his head mostly bald with some remaining gray hair. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans.


    ¡°Dr. Worthy,¡± Blackjack greeted the man. ¡°I¡¯m told there¡¯s been some discrepancy in our deal.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well, that is¡­¡± Worthy winced a little, glancing to Leech and Rotwang before looking back to the La Casa leader. ¡°My apologies. It seems I may have agreed to your request too hastily. My¡­ work demands that I stay with my current organization. I simply cannot spare the time for a one-on-one situation with you. But, ahh, as they said, the vials in that case will provide everything you¡¯re looking for. Three times what you were looking for, in fact. You wanted me to help you enhance one person. That briefcase will allow you to enhance three.¡±


    Examining his gold-gloved hands for a moment, Blackjack was quiet. The assembled group of Braintrust Touched and troops looked uncertainly to one another until the man finally spoke. ¡°Our arrangement will be fulfilled as originally stated. You will come with me, I will compensate you for your time, and then you will be released to travel wherever you would like to go with your quite substantial payment.¡± He spoke matter-of-factly, leaving no room for doubt.


    Even as he finished speaking, the ten assembled troops all snapped their guns up into position, aiming at him. At the same time, Rotwang pointed at him with his metal gauntlets, which hummed with energy. And Leech took a step back behind his companion, a scalpel appearing in his hand. ¡°Now, now,¡± the tall scientist announced, ¡°we can all walk out of this without losing anything. You take the case with the serums, we take the money, everyone¡¯s happy¡­ish. This doesn¡¯t have to get ugly. But if it does, you are at a disadvantage.¡±


    ¡°So it would seem,¡± the other man replied vaguely, his attention seemingly focused on the case before he lifted his head to slowly look along the line of weapons pointed at him. ¡°But looks can be deceiving.¡±


    ¡°Now don¡¯t you go starting anything,¡± Leech snapped, clearly trying to sound more confident than he felt. ¡°We outnumber and outgun you. But we don¡¯t want to start a war with La Casa.¡±


    Rather than reply, Blackjack allowed his gaze to sweep over the group once more. Eyes hidden behind his golden mask, he focused on his Touched-gift, his power.


    Some Touched out there had what they called a danger-sense. Blackjack, on the other hand, had an opportunity-sense. It would tell him when there was something he could do to achieve his immediate goals, allowing him to pull knowledge seemingly out of nowhere, so long as that knowledge related to his goal at the time. It wasn¡¯t perfect or all-knowing, but it was pretty damn helpful. Such as now, as he looked toward one of the armed men.


    Hates being some random thug for a bunch of geeks and nerds, his power informed him. Thinks they¡¯re stupid, but needs the money because he has a family to support and no one will hire him.


    His gaze moved on, sweeping a bit further before slowing as it found one of the guns another man was holding.


    Hasn¡¯t been maintained properly. Will fatally misfire the next time the trigger is pulled.


    Clearing his throat, the man finally spoke up after that long silence. ¡°Three hundred thousand dollars, and permanent employment within my organization.¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± With a frown, Worthy shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not the money, I assure you. And even if it was, three hundred thousand is substantially less than we originally¨C¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you,¡± Blackjack informed him. He lifted his gaze once more, looking straight at the first man his power had informed him of. Despite the mask covering his face, their gazes locked. The man understood. He knew.


    He moved, quickly jerking his weapon over and shoving it up against the back of Leech¡¯s neck (though as tall as the other man was, he had to lean up to do it). ¡°Nobody move!¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    That, of course, prompted every other person to whirl that way, weapons moving off of the La Casa leader to point at their own man.


    ¡°You¡­ idiot,¡± the tall man snarled. ¡°Do you really think we¡¯d give you guns that would work if they were pointed at one of us?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± his Benedict Arnold retorted. ¡°And I don¡¯t trust this Star Wars shit anyway. That¡¯s why¨C¡± With his other hand, he produced a pistol from the inside of his lab coat, using that to point at the man¡¯s head instead. ¡°¨C I like bringing my own. Now nobody fucking move!¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t possibly think you¡¯ll get away with this,¡± Rotwang snapped, torn between looking at Blackjack and looking at the traitorous henchman. ¡°You¡¯re really gonna trust that psycho to pay you?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing,¡± the armed man retorted without taking his pistol away from being pointed at Leech¡¯s neck, ¡°This guy doesn¡¯t lie. He makes a deal, he keeps it. That¡¯s the reputation he¡¯s got. He promises something, he¡¯s gonna get it for ya. And call me crazy, but I see more opportunity for advancement in his organization than with a bunch of psychos who call themselves geniuses but are too stupid to just take a government research contract and make millions.¡±


    Speaking calmly, Blackjack announced, ¡°Now then. Dr. Worthy. If you would please get in the car. And if anyone tries to stop you, my new friend here, Mr¡­¡±


    ¡°Sorn,¡± the turncoat supplied. ¡°Elarc Sorn.¡±


    ¡°Sorn,¡± Blackjack repeated with a nod. ¡°Mr. Sorn here will complete a science experiment of his own, in determining how many bullets can occupy the same space as the good Dr. Leech¡¯s skull.¡±


    Slowly, Worthy did as he was told, moving over to the car before stepping down into the front passenger seat. The entire time, the assembled goons bristled, torn between trying to stop it from happening, and the much more important duty of keeping their employer alive. They also, as he had silently predicted, spread out a bit to surround the car.


    Once Worthy was seated in the vehicle, Blackjack addressed Sorn again. ¡°Your turn. You and your tall former employer there have a seat in the back.¡±


    ¡°Now you just hold on with that,¡± Rotwang snapped. ¡°If you think we¡¯re just gonna let you walk away with my partner, you¡¯ve got another thing coming. Maybe we don¡¯t want to start a war with La Casa, but you sure as hell don¡¯t want a war with the Braintrust either. If the others find out you¡¯ve taken one of our own, you¡¯re gonna have every last one of us coming after you.¡±


    ¡°A horde of utterly unhinged mad scientists and their parade of experiments does not sound like a picnic, no,¡± the La Casa leader agreed. ¡°Happily, it will not come to that. I¡¯ve no intention of harming Dr. Leech, or taking him any further than the exit of this garage. So long as each of you wait here until he returns.¡±


    Letting that sit for just a brief moment to allow the group to believe it was the only choice on the table and see how unsavory it was, he then added something better for them. ¡°Of course, if you¡¯d like a bit more assurance, perhaps your man there can come with. There is room for three in the back, after all. If you squeeze.¡±


    As expected, Leech preferred that option. The man was far more a doctor than a fighter, even if he was a villainous one. Having a trained and armed guard along as well made him more comfortable with the idea.


    Considering the man who was holding a gun on him had also been one of those same trained and armed guards mere moments earlier, perhaps he had yet to truly think that through.


    Regardless, the trio moved to the car and slowly, carefully got in while everyone pointed guns at each other. Through it all, Blackjack waited calmly. As the doors closed, he let his gaze sweep over the assembled group of tense, angry faces. In full view of their stares, he took a few steps forward, bending to take up the case from the ground.


    ¡°We¡¯ll consider this a bonus to compensate for the hiccups in this transaction.¡± Straightening, case in one hand, he added, ¡°You¡¯ll find the agreed-upon payment in the trunk of the yellow Toyota there.¡±


    ¡°What¨Chuh?¡± Turning a bit to look at the car in question behind them, Rotwang shook his head. ¡°How could you possibly have the money waiting here? That car¡¯s been there since we arrived, and we didn¡¯t tell you where the meeting would be until we made it. There¡¯s no way you could have known where to leave the money. You¡¯re making that up.¡±


    Head tilting, Blackjack simply asked, ¡°Am I?¡±


    Staring at him for a moment, the armor-clad man finally waved for one of the men to go check. The guard did so, finding the trunk already popped. As he pulled the door open, the man tugged a black duffle bag from within, unzipped it, and whistled. ¡°Cash, boss. Lots of cash. Looks like all of it.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Rotwang demanded in disbelief. ¡°How the hell could you know what the meeting point would be before we did, when we set it?¡±


    His smile hidden behind the gold mask, yet fully audible in his voice, Blackjack replied, ¡°Perhaps you should look into being less predictable. It will serve you well in the long run.¡±


    There was no way, of course, that he would spoil the effect by revealing that he¡¯d simply identified two dozen of the most likely places for this sort of meeting to take place, based on territory close to the edge of what Braintrust called their own. All he had to do was look for secluded, protected areas away from prying eyes that could be quickly and temporarily secured, and then have his men deposit identical bags of cash at each one ahead of time. As soon as this one had been identified as the proper location, the others had been quietly retrieved.


    It was a bit of work for what amounted to theatrics. But making your potential opponents believe that you could predict their actions with that level was often worth it. Especially if it made them start second-guessing themselves, or wondering if there were (more) traitors in their midst.


    That and it was fun seeing the looks on their faces.


    Quietly wishing them all a good day, and promising once again to release Leech at the exit to the garage, he moved to take the driver¡¯s seat once more. ¡°Now then, gentlemen. Shall we conclude this?¡± With those words, he started the car, slowly reversing past the guards before turning and heading for the ramp once more.


    ¡°The rest of the Trust isn¡¯t going to be happy about you taking Worth away,¡± Leech informed him. ¡°He has incredibly sensitive and important work he still needs to do.¡±


    ¡°He will be back eventually,¡± Blackjack absently assured him. ¡°When he¡¯s done with his new work.¡± He parked at the exit then, the dark street ahead of them. ¡°I believe this is the stop for you and your escort.¡±


    For a moment, it looked as though Leech was about to say something else. But he seemed to think better, opening his door and extracting himself. His bodyguard followed, standing there with the door open.


    ¡°We¡¯ll keep the arrangement,¡± Leech informed him, as though he had a choice. ¡°Fine. But you know what wasn¡¯t part of the arrangement? Turning one of our own men into a traitor.¡±


    He nodded to the guard beside him, who smirked, lifted his energy-weapon to point at Sorn in the backseat, and pulled the trigger.


    The gun promptly exploded in his hand. Because of course Blackjack had ensured that the man who came to escort Leech was the one with the gun that was about to critically misfire. The resulting explosion was small, but it burned both the guard, and Leech beside him. They stumbled back, half-falling.


    Blackjack, meanwhile, hit the gas and pulled away with his hired scientist and new employee. ¡°That, I predict, will not go over well back at your base.¡±


    *****


    A short time later, Worthy stood with Blackjack in what looked like a hospital room, though it was actually deep in the heart of a safe house. Sorn was being briefed by one of the La Casa lieutenants on exactly what would be expected of him as a member of the organization.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± the scientist started. ¡°Why are we here? Who¡¯s the¡­ the girl?¡± He nodded to the small figure lying in the bed, her body filled with tubes as machines beeped steadily through their work of keeping her alive. The tiny, pale girl with light brown hair was dwarfed by all the medical equipment, and couldn¡¯t have been older than five or six.


    ¡°This, Dr. Worthy,¡± Blackjack informed him, ¡°is your patient. My daughter, Melissa. I didn¡¯t hire you to create another soldier for me. I hired you to save my daughter¡¯s life. Her¡­ condition is critical. She has an advanced case of¨C¡±


    ¡°Rot Bone,¡± Worthy finished for him, his voice breathless. ¡°She¡¯s suffering from Rot Bone, isn¡¯t she? The worst case I¡¯ve seen in a still-living patient, I would guess.¡±


    There were other names for it, but Rot Bone, as it was most commonly known, was a disease that had been created by a Fell-Touched who went by the same name. There was no known cure, and once infected, the disease essentially did as advertised. It caused the bones within a person¡¯s body to (some more slowly than others) rot away and disintegrate, turning to a poison that gradually killed them.


    Rot Bone, the disease creator himself, had already long-since been thrown into the inescapable Breakwater prison. If not, Blackjack would have taken the man apart and made him beg for the honor of saving Melissa¡¯s life. But he was unreachable, making Dr. Worthy the next best candidate.


    ¡°Your best work is in enhancing the human body, making one more powerful, stronger, better,¡± Blackjack reminded the man. ¡°I need you to do that for my daughter. I need you to make her strong enough to survive this. Enhance her.


    ¡°Do this, and I will make certain you never lack for anything for the rest of your life.¡±


    *******


    Two and a half years later/six months ago.


    ¡°You¡¯re dying.¡±


    The simple words came from Blackjack, as he sat at a hospital bed, watching the man lying within it. A man who was far more at home on the other side of the bed.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Samuel Worthy confirmed quietly before coughing. ¡°Afraid you can¡¯t hide from the devil forever. We had some fun times though, didn¡¯t we, old friend?¡± He gave a weak smile, his exposed face pale and drawn. ¡°I had a good run. Gotta say, didn¡¯t expect to spend so long on this one project. Didn¡¯t expect to stay with you through all this.¡±


    Slowly, Blackjack reached up, taking his golden mask down to reveal his own face. He had often been told that he looked like George Clooney in his first days of playing Danny Ocean. Now, however, his expression was far more lost than that famous leading man of such charisma and charm. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect it either, my friend. You saved Melissa¡¯s life. She¡¯s okay now, thanks to you. If I could do anything for you¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Worthy interrupted, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m done. I¡¯ve done enough with my life. You though¡­ you take care of that girl. She¡¯s a good kid. Deserves every chance she¡¯s got. Took a long time, but these last few treatments should finish stabilizing her.¡±


    ¡°Last few treatments,¡± Blackjack¡­ or as his family knew him, Eric Abbot, echoed.


    ¡°You remember what I said?¡± Worthy asked while reaching out to grasp his hand weakly. ¡°One syringe per month, every month for the next year. Do that, finish her treatment, and she¡¯ll be okay. The enhancements we¡¯ve done, she¡¯s beaten the disease. But if we don¡¯t stabilize them properly, they¡¯ll fall apart again.¡±


    ¡°One syringe per month for twelve months,¡± Eric confirmed. ¡°I understand. Thank you. You¨Cwhat you¡¯ve done for my family¡­ what you mean to Melissa¡­¡±


    ¡°Just keep that kid safe,¡± Worthy insisted, before suddenly coughing violently. That went on for a minute, until the man was left lying weak and exhausted, his eyes barely open. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ there¡¯s not time to make more. Twelve¡­ that should be enough. Make sure the¡­ the syringes are kept in a safe place. You¡­ have a safe place, right?¡±


    Taking his friend¡¯s hand and squeezing a little, Eric nodded. ¡°Yes. Don¡¯t worry about that. We¡¯ll keep the syringes safe. I know just where to put them.


    ¡°La Casa owns a bank. They can go in a safe deposit box there.¡±

 Interlude 2B - That-A-Way

    ¡°Paint powers, seriously?¡±


    The somewhat dubious question came from Laki Sefo, the tall boy that most in the city knew better as Wobble. Though they wouldn¡¯t have recognized him as he was now, lounging in a recliner in the Minority¡¯s headquarters without his iconic emerald battle armor. They might recognize him as the boy who had led his public high school basketball team to become state champions as a sophomore the year before. He¡¯d quit the team this year, earning as much enmity from the people who had cheered him on through two previous years as they had given him praise before. His fans were decidedly not happy about Laki¡¯s decision to stop playing.


    But it wasn¡¯t as though he could tell them that he didn¡¯t have time to play basketball with all the superheroing he was doing. Even if Amber would have liked to see the looks on their faces.


    As for the dark-haired girl herself, she was sprawled over the couch on her stomach, with her chin resting on one end and her feet propped up at the other. Her eyes were fixed on the television several feet away that was facing the end of the couch rather than the front of it. A game controller was held tightly in her hands, while she focused on the screen. ¡°Uh huh,¡± she replied to Laki, squinting a little in concentration, tongue poking its way out of her mouth briefly.


    Amber and Laki were the only two current occupants of the Minority base as it was their night to be on duty. At the moment, being ¡®on duty¡¯ wasn¡¯t so bad, since they were spending it in the lounge part of the base. The lounge amounted to a large room filled with several couches and chairs surrounded by televisions and game systems, with a pool table on one end and a foosball table at the other. A couple well-stocked refrigerators and a microwave were along one wall. They may constantly put their lives on the line, but at least they had entertainment and snacks.


    Besides, it may have been only the two of them officially on duty, but if anything important happened, the others would be called in.


    Anything, that was, beyond Amber¡¯s seventh straight attempt at a particularly difficult fight in her game. Her fingers moved quickly over the controls, as she struggled to pull it out that time. ¡°Come on¡­ come on¡­¡± The music abruptly turned dour, and she cursed. ¡°Oh, fuck you! Really? What kind of cheating bullshit is that?!¡± Muttering a few choice words under her breath, she looked over to the boy, who was waiting patiently with one eyebrow raised.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Laki offered, ¡°you need some more advice from Izzy?¡± He was referring, of course, to Isabel Amor/Raindrop, the youngest member of their team.


    ¡°I do not need advice from Izzy,¡± Amber retorted while pushing herself up from the couch. ¡°I can totally beat that guy. I just need to clear my head first.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t want to admit that a twelve-year-old is better than you at a game,¡± Laki lightly teased while remaining in his relaxed position, one leg up over the arm of the chair.


    Amber squinted at him, but ended up dutifully echoing, ¡°And I don¡¯t want to admit that a twelve-year-old is better than me at a game.¡± She stuck her tongue out at him then while tossing the controller back onto the couch, her expression quickly changing to one of eagerness. ¡°But yeah, dude! Apparently he calls himself Paintball. Which is cool. We couldn¡¯t really see much with that helmet and all, but I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s like¡­ fourteen? Probably a freshman. Hey, maybe he goes to your school. You should keep an eye out for people that changed a lot, or keep skipping, or¡­ you know, whatever. Just keep an eye out.¡±


    Shrugging, Laki straightened in his seat finally. ¡°Why? If he doesn¡¯t want to join, he doesn¡¯t want to join. We can¡¯t force him. That¡¯d be a bad idea anyway.¡±


    ¡°I know that,¡± Amber informed him. ¡°I¡¯m not saying force him to do anything. I¡¯m not even saying go out of our way to figure out who he is. I¡¯m just saying keep your eyes open. You know, cuz new Touched tend to not exactly be great at hiding their identities. And this kid really pissed off Janus. So he¡¯s probably gonna piss off other people too. And if he¡¯s not good at hiding, he might just get in more trouble than he can handle. We keep our eyes open and if we figure out who it is, we can help him if he gets in trouble. Right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Laki confirmed, giving her a thumbs up. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of ifs, but sure.¡± Pausing briefly, he added, ¡°You already went through everything in the debriefing, right?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Yeah, this afternoon. Had to sit down with ¡®Smith, Brumal, and Caishen and give them all the details we could remember.¡± Smith was the Conservator leader Silversmith, while Brumal and Caishen were the leaders of the state-level team of Spartans and the corporate-sponsored team of Ten Towers, respectively. All three adult teams took responsibility for training and preparing the Minority teens in exchange for having first dibs of recruiting them later, once they were eighteen. Laki had once joked that he couldn¡¯t play basketball because he was already going to go through one draft once he graduated high school, and he didn¡¯t want to do that twice.


    ¡°What¡¯d they say about this new guy?¡± Laki asked while moving to the other side of the lounge area, opening the fridge there to root around inside.


    ¡°We said,¡± Silversmith (fully dressed in his metal armor and helmet, as always) abruptly announced while stepping into the room from one of the doors, ¡°that everyone should keep an eye out for him. If he¡¯s this new to everything, he¡¯s bound to piss off the wrong people. Which would be bad. So if you see him, try to convince him to at least come in and talk to us. Even if he doesn¡¯t want to join, we can offer a lot of advice for rookies.¡±


    Both teens quickly turned to face the man, Laki offering something resembling a salute. ¡°Evening, sir. Is something going on?¡±


    ¡°Actually, yeah,¡± Silversmith confirmed. ¡°We¡¯ve got Adrian Perez and his siblings in a safehouse. Kriegspiel and a couple of the Spartans are keeping an eye on them. Flea and RePete are trying to track down where this Josh guy went from the bus station Perez dropped him off at. And Bokor¡¯s got some of his zombies looking through the guy¡¯s home since we cleared the gangs off it earlier. Dynamic¡¯s still patrolling the street, but even with the other teams out there¨C¡±


    ¡°Things are getting nasty, aren¡¯t they?¡± Amber quickly put in. ¡°From the bounty.¡±


    Silversmith nodded. ¡°Yes. Whatever this thing is that got stolen, it¡¯s got everyone going nuts. Especially La Casa. They want it back, bad. And they¡¯re tearing up the streets to get it. Everyone¡¯s tense out there. We¡¯ve already dealt with half a dozen brawls just in the past couple days. And it¡¯s getting worse. Frankly, I hate to involve any of you with this¡­¡±


    ¡°Anything we can do, sir,¡± Laki quickly assured the man. ¡°You know that.¡±


    Offering the taller boy a clearly grateful nod, Silversmith looked to Amber. ¡°Any time you need to leave, you just speak up. And we don¡¯t want you working past eleven. It¡¯s still a school day tomorrow. That said, thank you for the help. We¡¯re going to call the others in. Except for Raindrop. She¡¯s still young enough, I don¡¯t¡­ want her involved right now. Unless things get really desperate.¡± He sighed at the thought before pressing on. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ll get the others to meet you both. We¡¯ve got an area we need you to patrol. It shouldn¡¯t be too bad, but things are tense and it¡¯s a good idea to have some visible Touched presence out there. Hopefully that¡¯ll be enough to calm things down. If not, try to control them as much as possible and call in backup.¡±


    The two teens agreed before splitting up to head for their respective locker rooms in order to change into their costumes. Amber found her own labeled locker, barely sparing a glance for the picture of Gluegirl she had taped up there. She¡¯d always had the hots for that chick. Not only was Gluegirl really hot, she was also constantly mocking and taunting her enemies. She treated the whole superhero thing like a game, refusing to grant the villains the respect they wanted by taking it seriously. It also helped that her dark blue and white costume looked like it was painted on. Which, considering it seemed to be made of the same adhesive stuff that she used with the rest of her powers, was probably pretty much the truth.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Actually, she seemed to have a decent amount in common with this new guy, though they were from totally opposite sides of the country. Gluegirl had started out with the Minority in Florida before eventually being taken in by the New York Conservators a couple years earlier. Either way, the powers were vaguely similar enough (Gluegirl created and manipulated purely different types and colors of adhesive rather than paints that provided different effects, but still) that Amber briefly wondered in that glance at the poster if there was any connection.


    Probably not. After all, there were a lot of people with strength-based powers and nobody thought all of them were related. It wasn¡¯t like this guy was her brother or anything. Even if getting to meet Gluegirl through her brother if he was would pretty much be the coolest thing ever, and¨C Focus, Amber.


    Hurriedly changing into her purple costume before grabbing the mask that would change her hair from black to blonde when she put it on, as well as adjusting her facial features slightly, the girl headed back out to the lounge. Laki was already there, in his armor, helmet in hand. He and Silversmith were talking quietly.


    ¡°Hey, guys,¡± she quickly spoke up, drawing their attention. ¡°Did I miss anything?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Shaking his head, Silversmith gestured to the door. ¡°The lift¡¯s prepped to take you to the patrol area. Syndicate, Carousel, and Whamline should meet you there as soon as they get checked in. Remember what I said, just be a visible presence so people know you¡¯re around. Anything happens, call it in and then try to defuse it. If it gets bad, withdraw and wait for reinforcements. No unnecessary risks, okay?¡±


    Saluting along with Laki (though hers was slightly more sarcastic), Amber headed for the hall, and from there to the transport lift that could instantly take them to various prepared spots around the city. On the way, she affixed the mask to her face, grimacing through the shifting of her nose and cheeks. It didn¡¯t exactly hurt so much as it¡­ mostly tingled. But it still felt funny either way. She¡¯d never get used to it.


    ¡°So,¡± she started once the two of them were in the lift and waiting for the room to shift, ¡°you think we¡¯ll run into trouble out there?¡±


    ¡°Hope not,¡± Laki replied easily while putting his helmet on and fastening it into place. ¡°I could do with a quiet night. Especially if it¡¯s such a powderkeg. Any chance people might¡¯ve gotten it out of their systems?¡± He barely paused before adding, ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t think so either.¡±


    The doors opened once more, revealing an alleyway behind a local fast food diner. Stepping out of the unmarked building that would look, to any outside observer, like a random shed, the two glanced around for a moment to get their bearings.


    ¡°Right,¡± Amber (That-A-Way, she reminded herself. She had to think of herself as That-A-Way in costume) started, ¡°Let¡¯s just step out here and take a look around until the others show up. I mean, Smith did say to be a visible presence.¡±


    The two costumed teens took a short walk to the nearby sidewalk, keeping the transport shed in view so the others would know where they were. There, they looked around. The street was still busy enough, even though it was almost nine o¡¯clock at night, that they had a couple dozen people looking at them. A few waved, but no one approached. Civilians had long-since been conditioned not to immediately mob costumed Touched on patrol. It was too easy to end up in the line of fire, or be mistaken for a threat.


    Not that being approached sometimes would be all bad, That-A-Way thought to herself while her eyes followed a couple of very attractive women who were walking past in clubbing clothes. She could totally enjoy a conversation with¨C


    The women stepped out of the way, and That-A-Way found herself looking at the car idling at the nearby traffic light. A dark green Ford sedan. The same kind of car that had hit and killed her father.


    It wasn¡¯t the same car. She knew that. That car was long gone, the owner having it dismantled for parts because he couldn¡¯t stand to keep it around after what it had been part of.


    Greg Fardspar. That was the name of the man who owned the car that had killed her father. Amber knew that, because she had tracked the man down back when it happened. Grieving and lost after her father¡¯s death, she had thrown herself into, as she called it, doing the cop¡¯s jobs for them. She had interviewed people who had either seen the accident or lived and worked in the area (some would have called it stalking, threatening, and interrogating), had taken pictures, had run down leads. She worked for weeks, ignoring basically everything else to the point of breaking up with her girlfriend at the time.


    Then she had found him. She found the car in question in his driveway. It even had the damage to the front end. It had been all the girl could do not to¡­ not to take matters into her own hands even more than she already had.


    Justice. Her father would finally have justice. She¡¯d called the police. They took her seriously eventually, and came to check out the house and the damage to the car there in the driveway. Then they had gone in to first interview, then arrest Greg Fardspar.


    But then they released him. Because Greg wasn¡¯t involved. His car had been stolen that night, and it was that person, whoever they were, who had caused the damage. Greg had an airtight alibi, plus a police report about the theft. The cops had even brought his car back a couple days later when it was found in an old parking lot.


    She¡¯d had nothing. Everything she had done to get justice for her father had meant nothing. There was no way of knowing who stole Fardspar¡¯s car and took it for a joyride. A joyride in which they had killed a man, then driven off. They would get away with it. They would get away with it.


    It was while she had been dealing (or not dealing) with that realization that Amber¡¯s Touched-sphere had shown up. Then that she had heard the words ¡®Summus Proelium¡¯, and had gained her powers. And now¡­ well, now she was still grieving for her father, even over a year later. But she was getting there. Except for times like this, when she was unexpectedly reminded in a way that struck her like a physical blow.


    ¡°Way?¡± Wobble¡¯s voice finally penetrated the thick cloud that had surrounded her mind as she stared at the car, and she realized that he¡¯d been trying to get her attention for a minute.


    Her head quickly shook, just as the light changed and the sedan pulled away. ¡°I¨Csorry, what?¡±


    Wobble was looking at her, and though she couldn¡¯t see his face, she could tell he was concerned. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she insisted, flushing a little bit from embarrassment. ¡°Sorry, I just¡­ zoned out.¡± Leaving it at that, she looked around. ¡°Did I miss anything?¡±


    There was a brief pause before Wobble replied, ¡°No, no. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You looked really freaked out there for a second.¡±


    Swallowing, That-A-Way forced herself to smile. ¡°Trust me, I¡¯m cool. Or I¡¯ll be cool, anyway.¡± Admitting that much, she offered her fist to the boy. ¡°All good.¡±


    ¡°All good,¡± Wobble echoed, touching his fist to hers. The two of them continued to look up and down the street, watching for anything suspicious. There were a few things that stood out (it was a Detroit street at night, after all), but nothing that demanded immediate attention.


    They were only waiting for about five minutes before the shed opened up again, letting their three teammates out. Well, six counting the three ghostly duplicates that accompanied their leader.


    ¡°Hey guys,¡± Syndicate greeted as he, Carousel, and Whamline approached. ¡°Looks like you didn¡¯t start the party without us.¡±


    ¡°Technically, they did,¡± Whamline pointed out with a snicker in his voice. ¡°You know, cuz a party is a group of people, and since they were already-ow.¡± He stopped, rubbing his leg where one of the ghostly Syndicates had briefly become the solid one just long enough to kick him.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± the first Syndicate, returning to his solid form once more, continued, ¡°things look pretty calm so far.¡±


    ¡°Calm things may appear,¡± Carousel chimed in, ¡°but very tense, I fear. Everyone around here is very upset. Many would grab that bounty in a net.¡±


    That-A-Way nodded. ¡°She¡¯s right. Things are calm enough right now, but there¡¯s a whole lot of gasoline on this pile of wood. If something sets it off¡­¡±


    ¡°So let¡¯s see what we can do about making sure no one throws any matches,¡± Syndicate announced. ¡°You know what Silversmith said, be a visible deterrent. How about we split up. Two groups. Two of me will go with That-A-Way and Wobble since you guys were supposed to be on patrol to start, and the other two can go with Carousel and Whamline. We¡¯ll take a long walk in opposite directions and then circle in to meet a few blocks over. Then go from there.¡±


    They agreed, before heading out. As she walked with the two insubstantial versions of Syndicate and Wobble, That-A-Way thought one more time about the paint-based Touched they¡¯d met earlier. It sure would be nice if he ended up joining the team after all.


    Though it would¡¯ve been even better if he¡¯d been a girl instead of another guy.

 Interlude 2C - Carousel

    ¡°Jae!¡± The shouted name was accompanied by a series of increasingly loud knocks against the wooden door. ¡°Come on! Get up! I¡¯m gonna be late for work, and you know what happens then? They don¡¯t hire me for another episode and you¡¯ll have single-handedly destroyed my career! Come on!¡± The cajoling words were punctuated by two more quick bangs against the door, and a heavy, audible sigh.


    Sitting up in bed, Jae Baek opened her eyes, glancing around the small room. The bed itself took up about half the space, while her dresser and desk occupied a substantial portion of what was left. The albino-Asian girl slipped her legs off the bed into the single bit of open space right between her desk chair, her bed, and the door. Just as another knock started to come, she opened the door (very nearly taking a fist to the forehead in the process). Standing there in her pajama bottoms and tee shirt, she faced the woman outside the door. Or rather, she faced the woman¡¯s shoes. Jae¡¯s gaze remained low, as usual, while her voice was also soft and polite. ¡°Good morning, Kella. I¡¯ll be ready in ten minutes, as soon as I shower.¡±


    ¡°Hurry,¡± the overly botoxed and heavily bleached blonde woman urged, annoyance clear in her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to wait around while you sleep in to all hours. Some of us have responsibilities, you know.¡± With that, she spun on a heel and walked away, high heels clicking on the hardwood floor.


    With a quiet sigh, Jae turned to take clothes from the nearby dresser before heading for the bathroom across the hall. She could hear the woman making as much noise as possible in the kitchen, just to make it absolutely and perfectly clear how annoyed she was at having to wait.


    With a soft sigh, as the things she could have said to the woman flooded her mind, Jae stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. It wasn¡¯t worth the fight, even if she had been brave enough. Kella Song was her¡­ step-adopted mother, of sorts. It was complicated. Jae, along with six other ¡®ethnic¡¯ children of varying ages (Jae being the youngest), had first been adopted by Timothy Wallace and Andrea Mars. The former was producer and director of various television shows, while the latter was an actress who had served as lead or co-lead of a couple movies and one long running drama series, the latter of which she had received awards and great accolades for.


    A couple decades earlier, an award-winning television actress and her director-producer husband might have seemed very¡­ out of place in Detroit, of all places. At least if they wanted to have any kind of career. But with the resurging economy in these past twenty years, and a rebuilt infrastructure, the city had become a good stand-in for other larger cities such as New York. It was useful when shows lacked the funding to actually film where they were supposed to be set.


    In any case, Jae and her adopted siblings had been taken in by Andrea Mars and Timothy Wallace as part of a¡­ giving back to the community or¡­ something. With their wildly varying and nicely photogenic ethnicities (especially Jae hitting the mark of both Asian and albino), the two could parade their children around to show how much they cared about minorities.


    That wasn¡¯t fair. Timothy (she had never and would never refer to him as father) may have mostly seen the children for what they could do for his image, but Andrea had been the opposite of what Jae thought a vapid actress would be. She had genuinely cared for all of them, and spent as much time as she could with the group. It was Andrea who helped pull Jae at least a little out of the shell she had spent so long in before being adopted at the age of nine.


    For a few years, things had been nice. Jae got to know her new siblings and mother, learned not to expect anything from Timothy, and actually began to enjoy herself. Even her small room was a personal choice rather than anything forced on her. Jae preferred not having a lot of space. That was the way she had grown up, in foster home after foster home. It was what felt natural.


    But the time with her new family didn¡¯t last. When Jae was thirteen, Andrea suffered a traumatic ruptured brain aneurysm and passed away before even reaching the hospital. Within a couple years of that, each of her adopted siblings had moved on to college or other things (Andrea had been the glue that kept them together), leaving Jae the only child in the house, and often the only person in the house, as Timothy took more jobs that kept him away.


    It was that feeling of being abandoned, of having had a real (if unconventional) family for such a brief time before it was snatched away to leave her alone in a silent, dark house that had driven Jae to such emotional extremes that her Touched-sphere had appeared. The sphere which had given Jae her powers and introduced her to a new unconventional family, the Minority.


    Then Kella happened. Though she was younger than Andrea had been (and much younger mentally), the woman had already used enough plastic surgery to qualify for some kind of frequent patient award. She was a thirty-something clinging to her teens and the very short-lived success she¡¯d had as an actress back then. And she was certainly in no mood or mindset to actually help raise a teenager when she herself had never truly grown beyond being one.


    Kella and Timothy were married just before the man himself found great success once more on another show. That kept him very busy, so he was rarely home. Which left Kella and Jae alone most of the time. Kella, at Jae¡¯s request, knew nothing about her being Touched or a member of the Minority. Timothy did, but he said nothing to Kella. For all the faults he may have had as far as actually spending much time with his adopted children went, he did keep his promises. And he had promised not to tell Kella until or unless Jae asked him to.


    Besides, it wasn¡¯t as though the woman ever expressed that much interest in anything Jae did.


    What she was interested in was drinking. And also taking as many roles as she could. Even if those roles were almost exclusively either commercials or extremely minor ¡®day player¡¯ roles on an established show.


    The drinking part was what had gotten her license revoked. Which meant that with her husband gone so often, the woman either took cabs or other ride sharing services to get to her roles, or she relied on Jae to drive her. Most of the time it was that second one, as it didn¡¯t cost money.


    Showering quickly before dressing, Jae made her way back out to find Kella waiting for her in the kitchen. The woman held out a bagel with sausage, egg, and cheese stuffed into it that she had taken from a box and heated in the microwave. ¡°I made you breakfast,¡± she announced. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go. If I¡¯m late for this shoot, do you have any idea what that¡¯ll do to my career?¡±


    With a quiet, ¡°Thank you,¡± Jae took the breakfast sandwich. It was nice of Kella, even if she was still acting so incredibly impatient. The woman wasn¡¯t horrible (aside from that whole drinking problem), just¡­ self-centered and not really the type of person to raise or care for a minor. She didn¡¯t know how to handle Jae. Microwaving breakfast for her while demanding she be driven to her work because she¡¯d lost her license for driving under the influence was par for the course.


    She wasn¡¯t abusive. She was¡­ complicated. And unreliable. Complicated and unreliable, that summed up Kella Song well enough. She had never intended to be any kind of mother.


    Heading outside while taking a bite of the bagel sandwich, Jae silently opened the back door and waited for Kella to get in, the woman making a muttered production about how much the director was going to chew her out for being late. Then Jae got in the front, starting the car before checking the time. She still had about forty minutes before classes started. Plenty of time to drop Kella off and get to school.


    Did Kella even remember that Jae had school to go to after this? She genuinely wasn¡¯t sure.


    But hey, at least today would hopefully be less exciting than yesterday and last night had been. Jae just hoped no one lit any fuses on the powderkeg today. Or at least that they would wait until after school to do it.


    It would just sort of be nice to get through all of her classes without having to go fight any supervillains.


    ******


    On second thought, supervillains would have been nice. At least she could hit those problems.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    That was the thought that occured to Jae a short time later, as she stood facing her locker. The actual lock part had been broken (not for the first time), and the door stood open to reveal an exciting collection of hate and vile.


    First, there was the fact that everything in the locker reeked beyond belief, as what seemed to be a combination of sour cream, old milk, and rotten eggs had been thrown inside at some point the day before. It also looked like there were some mushed bananas in there for some reason.


    On the door of the locker was a taped bit of paper that read, ¡®Just in case you want to be even whiter, freak.¡¯ Below that, written in marker on the door itself, were a series of notes, some barely legible. They reached all the way to the bottom of the locker, most written in different handwriting. Among other things, they read, ¡®Fuck off, mutant¡¯, ¡®Get out of our school¡¯, ¡®Eat shit and die¡¯, and ¡®Are you cuntagis? Cuz I¡¯ll still fuck you if you put a bag over your head.¡¯


    It went on like that, with other fun misspellings and bits of horrific grammar. And dicks. Lots of dicks. They were drawn all over the inside of her locker. One enterprising person had even gone beyond drawing to tape up an actual photograph of a penis.


    Quietly, to the point of barely being audible, Jae whispered to herself, ¡°For people who think that I¡¯m such an untouchable freak, they sure are eager to let me know they have penises ready to go.¡±


    It made her smile just a little bit, though it was a smile touched with resignation. With a sigh, she closed the locker door and turned to find the nearest janitor. In the process, she nearly ran right into Amber, the two of them both jerking back at the last second.


    ¡°Jae!¡± the dark-haired girl blurted. ¡°God, do you smell that?¡± Her nose wrinkled. ¡°What the hell is it?¡±


    Quietly, Jae replied, ¡°I think someone¡¯s lunch went bad.¡± Leaving it at that, the girl started to walk. She was not going to have her teammate and friend feeling sorry for her. Or worse, trying to take care of it herself. Jae knew Amber well enough to be certain she would start throwing people around until someone talked. And as much as the girl would have appreciated the gesture, this was something she needed to deal with herself, or not at all.


    The two of them walked together, talking for a few minutes until Jae said that she¡¯d forgotten something. They were near Amber¡¯s first class (a purposeful move), so she said goodbye to the other girl before heading back the way she¡¯d come. On the way, she felt her friend¡¯s eyes on her, but resisted the urge to look back. It only would have confirmed Amber¡¯s obvious suspicions.


    Instead, Jae made her way to one of the janitorial closets. There was usually at least one of the custodial staff around there right as school was about to start.


    Sure enough, Frank Harrington was there, just filling one of his mop buckets. When Jae approached, the man looked up, smiling broadly. ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t the only kid in this school who ever beats me at Scrabble. You up for a tie-breaker match later?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jae agreed before adding, ¡°Could I borrow some cleaner and a rag? I spilled some of my lunch in my locker yesterday and didn¡¯t notice.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, Frank gave her an unconvinced look. ¡°You spilled it?¡±


    She met his gaze, pausing briefly before giving a single short nod. Her voice was even softer than usual. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    For a moment, it looked as though he might push things further. The man knew something else was wrong, and was clearly wondering if he should take this to the administration. In the end, he handed over a spray bottle, several rags, and some kind of air freshener. As Jae took them, he hesitated before speaking up. ¡°You come back for that rematch, you hear? I¡¯m gonna take the crown.¡±


    ¡°What crown?¡± the girl found herself asking.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make a crown,¡± he declared, ¡°and then I¡¯ll take it.¡± Pointing at her, he added, ¡°Next Monday. Lunch. You bring that thesaurus you call a brain and I¡¯ll bring a crown. Got it?¡±


    She agreed before taking the cleaning supplies and heading back to her locker. The bell would ring in the next few minutes, but she had time to at least start cleaning things out.


    The books that were covered in the¡­ stuff were all put in a plastic bag after being wiped off as well as she could. Several notebooks and loose bits of paper were thrown away, but she was able to salvage her favorite pencil case that she¡¯d had since the first day of school after being adopted. Andrea had given it to her, with a note written on the inside about being part of a family.


    Taking the case, Jae smiled while opening it, only for her smile to fall immediately. It hadn¡¯t gotten away unscathed after all. Over the note that her now-deceased adopted mother had written, someone had used marker to scrawl, ¡®Ghost Slut.¡¯


    Clutching the box tightly with both hands, Jae closed her eyes. She was breathing harder, the rage boiling up before she could get a handle on it. Of all the things to ruin, of all the things they could have destroyed, they chose to scrawl those hateful words over a beautiful note written by the woman who had adopted her. A woman who was no longer around.


    No. No. She would have stood for other things. She would have gritted her teeth and bore it, for the most part. But this? This was too far. This was something she would not just ignore.


    First, Jae finished cleaning the locker as well as she could, including scrubbing off the vile marker scribblings. She hesitated over the writing in her box, but was afraid that any attempt to clean off that ink would also wipe away what remained of Andrea¡¯s note. In the end, she pushed the box into her bag and straightened up.


    The rest of the vandalism could have been anyone. But the specific note in her pencil box? She knew who had done that. One person had started calling her Ghost Slut, Casper The Friendly Whore, and other variations of that theme. There were others who used it now and then, but she knew this was the work of the person who had started it.


    And she knew what to do about it.


    ******


    Jae¡¯s chance didn¡¯t come until fourth period. That was the first time she shared a class with¡­ Arleigh Fosters. At the beginning of the school year, Arleigh¡¯s then-boyfriend, Price, had made the mistake of saying that he thought Jae was cute and exotic. It had been a stupid thing to say to someone as prone to jealousy as Arleigh was, but he hadn¡¯t actually meant anything that bad by it. To Price, it had been an offhand comment that he immediately forgot about. But it had boiled up and blossomed into a full on rage fit from Arleigh, who became convinced that Jae was sleeping with him. She had all-but attacked her at the end of September, until Price stepped in. He¡¯d broken up with her then, while making it clear that he and Jae were not a thing.


    But that hadn¡¯t helped. Arleigh was utterly certain that Jae had been the one to break them up, and ever since that day, all of the incredibly-rich girl¡¯s hangers on and friends had made it their life¡¯s mission to make Jae feel like a freak.


    Now that she thought about it, Jae knew what today had been about. It was around this time the year before when Arleigh and Price had become a thing. This must have been the day that would¡¯ve been their anniversary, renewing the hatred in the girl enough to make her lash out again.


    As luck would have it, Jae¡¯s desk was situated directly behind Arleigh. The tall, blonde girl was already there, staring at Jae with a smug, self-satisfied look that made it even more clear she was the one responsible. With her phone in one hand, the girl made a point of typing out some kind of text, glancing up at Jae once more, smirking again, then typed some more.


    ¡°Alright, alright, alright, people!¡± Mr. Hughes announced while coming into the room. ¡°You know the rules. Phones away. That includes you, Miss Fosters.¡±


    With a sickly sweet smile, Arleigh replied, ¡°Of course, Mr. Hughes.¡± She then set the phone down on top of the book bag at her side, giving the girl behind her one last glare.


    Jae ignored her, sitting down with her gaze on the desk. Or at least, it would appear to be to everyone else. In reality, she was watching Arleigh¡¯s phone, and keeping a look out for anyone paying too much attention. Luckily, everyone was too busy listening to Hughes as the man began to go over the results of a quiz they¡¯d just taken the day before.


    Once Jae was certain the coast was clear, she focused on the phone on top of Arleigh¡¯s bag. Stretching out her power, she felt it pick up the phone, shrinking it down to about the size of a marble before it floated up under her desk. Jae was able to grab hold of it and put the phone in her lap without anyone noticing.


    From there, she divided her attention between Mr. Hughes and the phone, making sure it was silenced before opening up the messaging app and scrolling through. As expected, Arleigh spent a pretty big portion of her conversations with people insulting other people, many of whom she was also having conversations with insulting the people she was having the first conversations with. She was talking behind everyone¡¯s back.


    Taking as many screenshots of the various conversations as she could, Jae then went about sending those screenshots to the people who were being talked about. All of the insults, all of the catty remarks about their personal problems, all the times that Arleigh had spilled some close personal secret to someone else just so they could mock the person in question, all of it. She screenshotted all of it and sent dozens of messages to as many contacts as she could.


    Already, the phone was starting to blow up with responses demanding to know what the hell was going on. Still, as one last measure, Jae opened up Arleigh¡¯s Facebook account and proceeded to upload all the screenshots there as well, posting them publicly.


    Finally done, she looked around once more. By that point, Mr. Hughes was deep into his lecture for the day, and everyone was taking notes. Using her power again, she sent the phone back out, carefully letting it spin around her desk until it was positioned just above the other girl¡¯s bag. Then she let it fall back into place. One of the students beside her noticed something, glancing over as if he¡¯d seen the tiny marble-sized phone out of the corner of his eye. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he shrugged and went back to paying attention to the teacher.


    After that, Jae focused on class. When it was over, she straightened from her desk and headed out without sparing a glance toward the girl in front of her.


    She was all the way to the door before hearing the shrill, panicked, ¡°What the fuck!?¡±

 Legwork 3-01

    ¡°So I guess I¡¯m a superhero now,¡± I announced to my unicorn.


    Right, backing up. I didn¡¯t have an actual unicorn. My parents were rich and powerful, but not that rich and powerful. They couldn¡¯t magically produce things that didn¡¯t really exist. At least, I was pretty sure they couldn¡¯t. If it turned out I could have had an actual unicorn this whole time, I was going to be even more ticked off about my parents being secretly evil supervillains.


    Ugh. Bad time to joke. Bad thing to joke about in general.


    The point was, the thing I was talking to was my toy unicorn. It was a little plastic thing that fit in my hand, pink with a couple white stars along its side. His name was Felony, because I¡¯d been a precocious seven year old when I got him and had thought that was hilarious. Felony the unicorn. I¡¯d actually made up stories about myself and Felony running around having adventures. Only where most girls that imagined meeting a unicorn had magical princess fantasies in an enchanted forest, Felony was a thug unicorn. Bright pink with white sparkling stars¡­ and a leather jacket (as much as a unicorn could wear a jacket) who spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent, cursed a lot, and took me through the streets of New York.


    I was a weird kid.


    It was the next night after my not-so-little fight with Janus and his men. A fight I had survived mostly thanks to a lot of help from a few members of the Minority, but still. And now I was standing on the roof of a building downtown, talking to my toy unicorn that was sitting on the air conditioning unit near me.


    Sue me, I¡¯d needed something to talk to and Felony sounded like a better idea than my dad.


    ¡°I¡¯m sort of a superhero. I saw my name in the news this morning. I mean, not my name. Not Cassidy. Paintball. I called myself Paintball.¡± My gaze slid over to the toy. ¡°What do you think? Good, bad? I guess whatever it is, it¡¯s me now. So I¡¯m just going with it.¡±


    After that whole business that had taken me through lunch and into part of sixth period, the rest of the day had been pretty normal. I¡¯d told my teacher that I was late because of ¡®girl things¡¯, which was an excellent way of avoiding any further follow-up questions. It meant I had to endure the mock-surprised exclamations from people upon ¡®learning that I was a girl¡¯, which never ever got fucking old, let me tell you. But beyond that, everything was fine. I¡¯d gone to Thursday night family dinner and even managed to make something resembling conversation.


    Just a few days into this whole thing and I was already getting depressingly good at pretending my family didn¡¯t leave me violently shaking while I clutched a pillow and cried into it at night.


    Adrian hadn¡¯t been at school today, which was pretty much what I¡¯d expected. The authorities probably had him and his siblings deep in protective custody, or whatever. He wouldn¡¯t be coming back to work here at least until they sorted out this whole situation with the bounty.


    Would he be fired for missing work? Would he get paid for going through all this? I¡¯d wondered that all day. Actually thinking about money was a pretty new experience, and it made me wonder if I should do other things besides just be a superhero. Like¡­ volunteer at a soup kitchen or something. Smacking around bad guys was all well and good, but how much did it help regular people who were hungry and had bills to pay? Could I do something more for them?


    I was still thinking about that (and discussing it with Felony), when a figure caught my eye. A figure on the roof across from me, in fact. As I watched, the figure drew close enough to make out details. I saw loose-fitting pale blue pants, a black chainmail-like top that was mostly covered by a long, light blue cloak with very faint goldish trim, just enough to offset it a bit. A long katana was sheathed across her back, and she had two more much shorter swords, one against each hip. Her head was covered by a samurai helmet with slight mandible-like protrusions across the front of the metal mask, almost like the head of a bug.


    I knew her at a glance. It was Flea, one of the members of the local Conservators. Any other time, before I¡¯d known the truth, I would have been positively giddy at just seeing her. Now the first thing that sprang to my mind was, ¡®Did she know her boss was an evil, murdering monster?¡¯


    Reaching the end of the roof, the female figure didn¡¯t even miss a step before springing easily across the gap that separated the two buildings. It was that jumping ability (she could literally leap a tall building in a single bound), combined with her power to drain people¡¯s stamina and make them tired if she was within a few feet of them, that made the ¡®Flea¡¯ name stick. I thought she was also strong and had some kind of speed boost too, but I wasn¡¯t sure. Mostly people knew about the jumping and the stamina-drain.


    In the midst of gaping at the woman¡¯s easy leap, I remembered my unicorn sitting nearby and quickly shoved Felony away into the bag that lay at my feet. In the next second, Flea landed smoothly a few feet away. ¡°Good evening,¡± she started politely, her voice clearly feminine, yet also slightly electronically distorted, like it was coming through a faulty intercom.


    Oh, right, she was talking to me. Shaking myself, I managed a weak, ¡°Um, hi.¡± I¡¯d been standing around with the front of my helmet up, so only the ski mask was covering my face. Thankfully, my voice changer was still active, so I didn¡¯t accidentally give myself away by letting her hear a girl talking.


    Her brown eyes, the only part of the woman¡¯s face I could actually see (they were very clearly Asian), watched me carefully before she spoke again. ¡°You are the one who calls himself Paintballs.¡±


    ¡°Err, just the one,¡± I corrected quickly. ¡°Paintball. But uh, yeah, that¡¯s me.¡± Clearing my throat a little, I added, ¡°I¡¯m not doing anything wrong here or whatever, am I?¡±


    Her head tilted, eyes never leaving me. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied coolly, ¡°are you?¡±


    Eyes widening a little behind my mask and helmet, I quickly shook my head. ¡°N-no, no. I mean, I¡¯m not¨CI wasn¡¯t¨C¡± Taking a breath, I managed, ¡°I¡¯m just standing up here.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re not doing anything wrong,¡± she pointed out simply, voice very matter-of-fact. The woman¡¯s head tilted slightly as she regarded me for a moment before adding, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± I assured her, letting my head bob up and down. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m just¨Cum, thinking. And talking to myself. I do that sometimes.¡±


    Her response was a nod. ¡°Most do.¡± Slowly, she raised a black-gloved hand, extending it to me. ¡°I¡¯m told you did very well yesterday, that you risked yourself to save that man and his siblings.¡±


    Blushing a bit despite myself, I accepted the offered hand. ¡°Oh, um, I was just¡­ trying to help.¡±


    Her hand squeezed mine firmly, before she replied, ¡°You certainly did that.¡± I saw those eyes focus intently on me then. ¡°And you painted a target on your own back in the process.¡±


    ¡°I¨Cum, did you just make a joke?¡± I asked uncertainly. ¡°I mean, with the whole ¡®painted¡¯ thing.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see her mouth, but I was pretty sure the woman smiled just a little bit before ignoring the question as she spoke in that same careful, even tone. ¡°That bounty is still active. Without either access to the original thief, his brother, or the man who drove the latter out of town, the only visible target left to get any information out of is the person who somehow happened to save both the brother and the driver.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I shifted my weight a bit nervously. ¡°Um, right. Me. I guess you¡¯re right about that whole painted target thing, huh?¡± Managing a weak smile, I added, ¡°At least I¡¯m making a name for myself?¡±


    ¡°You are certainly doing that,¡± Flea agreed before glancing away. She turned, facing the edge of the building to look out over the street below. We stood there in silence for a moment that she seemed far more comfortable with than I did. Finally, after that had dragged on for a minute or two, she spoke again. ¡°That-A-Way said that you seemed less than enthused by her invitation.¡±


    Wincing inwardly, I offered a weak, ¡°It¡¯s complicated. It¡¯s just¡­ um, better if I¡¯m by myself now.¡±


    Her head turned to glance at me, clearly trying to read my body language or something before she replied, ¡°If you cannot be convinced to join the Minority for safety, I will not waste my breath or our time. But perhaps I can still offer other suggestions and advice. You are new to this life.¡±


    Again, my head bobbed. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I am very, very new to this.¡± But apparently it¡¯s old hat to my family, I added silently.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    She returned her gaze to the street below. ¡°Then if you would like, I will offer what advice I can.¡±


    ¡°I, um, I¡¯d like that, ma¡¯am,¡± I agreed. I didn¡¯t know if she was part of my dad¡¯s whole secretly a villain thing, but I was going to guess that most of the Star-Touched on the Conservators were really good guys who didn¡¯t have anything to do with that stuff. Besides, I didn¡¯t really have a good reason to refuse without drawing even more attention. And I really did need advice.


    ¡°Flea will work just fine,¡± she informed me. ¡°And perhaps we can start with that.¡±


    Belatedly, I realized she was looking at something. My gaze followed hers, and I saw the lights on in some kind of electronics store. There were people in there, long after hours. A blue van had been pulled up to the side door in the alley next to the building.


    ¡°Would you like to stay and watch, or assist?¡± the samurai-clad woman asked without taking her eyes off the store below, where we could both see shadowy figures moving through the windows. From their motions, they were clearly in a hurry, not that it would do them much good.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll go with you,¡± I quickly replied, not wanting to miss any of this. Seeing a full-on Conservator member like Flea do her thing, from a front-row seat? I would¡¯ve been all-in just from that. But to actually be part of the whole thing, to help her? That thought made me giddy, though I tried to keep it out of my voice. ¡°Ahem, I mean, I¡¯d like to help.¡±


    Her head gave a single nod. ¡°Then you are welcome to come. Please be careful. You may not wish to join the Minority, but all Star-Touched are appreciated.¡± She looked toward me, eyes softening just a little as she added, ¡°And you seem nice. I would hate to lose you so soon.¡±


    With that, Flea took a quick step forward, right off the edge of the roof. As I watched, she fell all the way to the ground several stories below before landing as smoothly as though she had just stepped off a curb. There wasn¡¯t even a hesitation as she started walking to the building.


    Be professional, I told myself, just be calm and professional, like her.


    In this case, being calm and professional meant putting both hands over my already ski-masked covered mouth while muffledly ranting about how amazing and cool that was for a second or two. Then I collected myself, reached up to shove the front of the helmet down to lock into place, and jumped from the roof myself. Painting my legs orange, I fell to the ground and landed in a crouch just a few feet from where the other woman had dropped.


    She was waiting for me, I realized. Her slight (she was only about five foot four inches, which also contributed to the whole ¡®Flea¡¯ thing) figure stood in the middle of the empty road, turned sideways so she could glance back my way without taking her gaze entirely off the store.


    ¡°There is a lookout,¡± the woman informed me as I quickly joined her. She nodded toward the alley where the van was parked. ¡°Near the side door. Can you handle him?¡±


    I had no idea how she knew that, unless she¡¯d seen him while jumping down from above. But I knew she wasn¡¯t wrong, nodding quickly. ¡°Oh, uh huh. I mean¡­ um, I think so?¡± My eagerness to impress the woman was at war with the fact that I was still nervous about actual fights. Still, I didn¡¯t want to look like a baby, so I made myself stand up a little straighter as the woman¡¯s gaze snapped to me questioningly at my first response. ¡°I can do it.¡±


    She watched me a little closely for a second then before simply telling me, ¡°Be careful. Get into position, then wait for me to make myself known. When he reacts, take him by surprise. If you get into trouble, shout ¡®green grass¡¯ and I will be there to help you.¡±


    ¡°Green grass,¡± I echoed, giving her a thumbs up. ¡°Got it.¡± With that, I painted myself black (yay for working stealth mode at night!) and quickly moved to the parked van. Pressing myself against the wall, I gave the waiting woman a thumbs up. Rather than return it, she simply strode steadily toward the front of the store, and I ducked to peek under the van.


    Sure enough, there was a guy there. He was standing next to the door, partially hidden by a some kind of stylistic outcropping of brick wall there. Which made me even more uncertain about how the Conservator woman had managed to spot him so easily. But hey, she was right.


    Okay, now I just had to wait for the¨C


    ¡°Oh shit, shit, shit!¡± The shout came from in the store, and was accompanied by the sound of three quick gunshots.


    Right, that was probably the sign. Staring under the van, I saw the lookout quickly spin that way, almost falling over himself as he grabbed a shotgun resting against the wall. Before he could do more than take a step toward the door, I extended a hand, shooting a bit of red paint at the barrel of the gun while using my other hand to put a matching crimson blob on the ground beneath the van. The paint activated, and the shotgun was torn from his grasp as the man yelped in surprise, flying over to land out of his sight.


    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± I heard the man blurt, before he came running over to the van. There were already more gunshots coming from inside, and I silently hoped Flea was okay. But right now, I had to deal with this guy.


    To that end, I waited until he got close, then shot a bit of black paint onto the van to silence it so the thing wouldn¡¯t groan as I painted my legs purple and hopped from the ground to the top of the van itself. My timing was perfect, as I landed on the roof just as the lookout dropped to his knees to look under the vehicle.


    ¡°How the¡­¡± I heard him mutter while stretching out to grab the gun. As he was focused on that, I quickly moved to his side of the van, looking down to shoot out two spots of red paint, one at his left boot, and the other at the the ground about ten feet away. Then I activated them.


    Apparently I managed to do that before he could get hold of the gun he¡¯d been reaching for, because it wasn¡¯t in his hands as he went sailing backwards with a strangled cry, yanked by his own boot.


    He saw me then, crouched there on top of the roof. As his confused, then angry gaze snapped up to me, I waved. ¡°Hi!¡± My voice was a pleasant, cheerful chirp, as I hopped off the van to drop in front of him. ¡°You know, I¡¯m pretty sure you don¡¯t want to go in there.¡± My thumb jerked a bit toward the store, while I cupped my other hand against the side of my mouth, stage-whispering, ¡°They¡¯re having a bad day.¡± My words were accompanied by the sound of more shooting, more shouting, and more crashing sounds.


    ¡°You¨C¡± The guy jerked backward, then stopped upon realizing, ¡°You¡¯re that paint kid! Ohhh, they¡¯ll pay good money for you!¡±


    Oh God, oh God, there really is a bounty on me too. This is fucked up. What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? I¡¯m gonna die. I am going to die. This is so stupid. I¡¯m so stupid. What am I doing?


    That was inward, of course. Outwardly, my head tilted. ¡°Really? Maybe I should go for it. I could use a new iPhone, have you seen what they¡¯re charging for that thing? If you ask me, they¡¯re the real crimi¨C¡±


    That was as far as I got before the man was suddenly hurling himself at me. He was a pretty big guy, and probably thought he could hold me by himself. So he came charging straight in, arms swinging.


    It was a bad move for a lot of reasons. But mainly because I simply threw myself to the side. As I went, both of my hands snapped out. From one, I shot a ball of green paint at the man. Suddenly, he was going much faster than he meant to. Before he even knew what was happening, the man sailed right past the spot where I had been and crashed into the van.


    Which was where my other hand had shot a blob of blue paint. Running full-tilt, his speed about twice as fast as it should have been, the man hit the blue splotch and was suddenly airborne, flying backwards in the opposite direction before crashing into the far wall. I was pretty sure he even did that yell that Goofy does when he¡¯s falling.


    He hit the wall, sliding down it with a groan before collapsing on the ground. Before he could get his bearings, I announced, ¡°So, I can ping pong you back and forth off the walls for awhile if you want, or you can lay on your stomach with your hands behind your head and take a break. Your call.¡±


    He went for the latter, interlacing his fingers while shifting onto his front with a grumbled curse about how screwed I was going to be. Before I could respond, however, there was a sudden rush of movement from the doorway, as two guys in ski masks and carrying guns came rushing out. One of them saw me, spinning with his gun up. But before either of us could do anything, a short sword was hurled through the open door, colliding with the gun and knocking it from his hand.


    The second man pivoted back that way, just as Flea strode into view. His own gun snapped up to take a shot at her, but she jumped just as he opened fire. A simple hop launched the woman a good thirty feet in the air, as she threw her second short sword, knocking the gun from the second man¡¯s grip before he could adjust.


    Both men were still reacting to their weapons being knocked from their hands as the samurai-clad figure dropped to land between them. The first guy took a wild swing at her from behind, which she ducked, driving her elbow into his stomach to double him over while simultaneously catching hold of the katana on her back, snapping it up just enough to make the hilt hit the guy hard in the chin. His mouth snapped shut, and he stumbled back, clearly dazed.


    Meanwhile, the second guy tried to sucker-punch her as well, this one from the front. Her head twisted away from the first swing, before she sidestepped the second one, then pivoted to avoid his follow-up kick. She treated it like a dance, as if she knew every move he was going to make.


    By that point, the first guy had recovered enough to try to grab her from behind. But she somehow anticipated that, ducking out from under his grasping arms and stepping away to make the two men collide with each other.


    They took a few more swings, but they were half-hearted at best. The men were moving more slowly with each passing second. Their punches were sluggish, and each of them were stumbling like they were drunk.


    Then they collapsed, and I realized, it was her stamina-draining power. She tired them out within a few seconds just from being within a few feet. The guys couldn¡¯t manage more than a few swings like that before they hit the ground, completely unconscious.


    Once the two men were down, she turned my way. ¡°Under control?¡±


    A brief moment of silence passed, before the thug on the ground whispered, ¡°Dude, she¡¯s talking to you.¡±


    Oh, right. Snapping out of it and forcing my mouth to stop gaping, I made myself nod quickly. ¡°Uh¡­ uh huh. Uh huh. He surrendered.¡±


    ¡°Smart man,¡± Flea replied, stooping to pick up her short swords before sheathing them. ¡°Here.¡± She threw me something. A pair of metal handcuffs. ¡°Put those on him.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll show you what you¡¯re supposed to do after you catch the bad guys.¡±

 Legwork 3-02

    ¡°Um.¡± Raising one finger, I hesitated for a second before asking, ¡°What do you mean, after we catch the bad guys? Isn¡¯t that when we say woo hoo or whatever and celebrate?¡±


    Staring at me through that stylized and sleek-looking samurai bug mask, the woman dryly replied, ¡°Woo hoo indeed. But there is more to it than that. At least, there is if you wish to be effective. Cuff the man there and we shall discuss it.¡±


    Realizing that I had basically, however briefly, forgotten about the man lying at my feet, I quickly knelt beside him. ¡°Sorry,¡± I murmured to him without really knowing why. ¡°I¡¯m still new at this.¡±


    The look that he gave me seemed incredulous. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he informed me. ¡°I¡¯ve been here a few times, we¡¯ll get through it together.¡±


    ¡°See, I know you¡¯re being sarcastic,¡± I replied, ¡°but thanks.¡± With that, I pulled the man¡¯s hands behind his back and put the cuffs on him. As I did so, they changed from plain silver to blue.


    ¡°Do you know what those are?¡± Flea asked idly. I noticed that she had already cuffed the other two guys. ¡°And what the color means?¡±


    Belatedly, I realized I did have an idea. I¡¯d just been surprised that she would give me one of them. Biting my lip behind the mask and helmet, I slowly nodded. ¡°I think so? It¡¯s Touched tech, right? When the cuffs are hooked up to someone it makes it hard for them to move? I don¡¯t know what the color means, though.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she confirmed. ¡°They¡¯re called stay-downs. When they are attached to someone, that person cannot move more than a foot or so from their original position. If they do, the stay-downs will gradually magnify their weight up to many times over, dragging the person back to the ground. When they are on the ground and still, the weight will decrease. The cuffs can sense the amount of strength being used and adjust accordingly, up to a thousand pounds or so. It¡¯s enough to keep most down once they¡¯re applied. Not perfect, but it helps against basically all but those who are Brawn-Touched, and there¡¯s special cuffs for them.¡±


    ¡°Brawn-Touched?¡± I echoed. ¡°People with strength powers?¡±


    Flea gave me a brief look of curiosity, nodding. ¡°You really are new to this. Yes, we use the something dash touched descriptor to explain what people are. Or at least to give a very slight overview. There are eleven basic categories, including Brawn, Tech, Mind, Travel, Bang, Form, Vary, Psy, Field, Crowd, and Friend.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± Blinking, I thought through it. ¡°Okay, so Brawn-Touched are strong, tough people. Tech-Touched are people who make things. Mind-Touched are¡­ people who affect other people¡¯s minds?¡±


    Her head shook. ¡°That¡¯s Psy. Psy-Touched affect other people¡¯s minds in some way. Mind-Touched are people with mental gifts that affect themselves, like enhanced intelligence, knowledge that just pops into their head, an understanding of people, future knowledge, things like that. Enhanced senses tend to be classified under that too, even if some people think they shouldn¡¯t be.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Nodding to that thoughtfully, I continued. ¡°Travel-Touched are obviously people with like¡­ super speed or flight or whatever. Bang-Touched¡­ umm¡­ I wanna say explosives but¡­ maybe like lasers and stuff?¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± she confirmed. ¡°The second part, I mean. Bang-Touched are people who project any kind of obvious outward attack. Lasers, fire breath, ice blasts, they¡¯re all Bang-Touched.¡±


    ¡°Got it.¡± Thinking for another second, I guessed, ¡°Form-Touched are probably people who can shapeshift or, you know, alter what they look like in some way.¡±


    At a nod from her, I winced. ¡°But uh, I have no idea what ¡®Very-Touched¡¯ could mean. Unless it¡¯s like¡­ they¡¯re very powerful.¡±


    I heard a very slight snicker from her before she caught herself. ¡°No, ahh, vary. As in with an A, not an E. A Vary-Touched is someone whose powers change based on¡­ well, various things. Someone who gains different powers based on the situation, or who can change their powers a lot.¡±


    ¡°Lastword,¡± I blurted. ¡°His powers change based on what he last said, so he¡¯d be a Vary-Touched.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± she agreed. ¡°And that leaves Field, Crowd, and Friend.¡±


    Those three I considered for a couple seconds before offering, ¡°Field is someone whose powers affect the world around him?¡± Glancing to the woman to see her nod again, I added, ¡°Crowd must be affecting other people in a way that¡¯s not just like blasting them.¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± the woman confirmed. ¡°Crowd-Touch powers are those that affect one or more living targets in a way other than direct damage or the mental effects that Psy covers. Healing, for example. Or petrification.¡±


    Slowly, I nodded before finishing with,  ¡°And Friend is someone whose powers summon things, or in some way create like¡­ minions for him to use?¡±


    Flea gave me a thumbs up. ¡°You got it. There¡¯s more specifics to it, but that¡¯s the basic idea. Also, they¡¯re often given other descriptors or combined to make things more understood. Like, someone who can control plants might be called ¡®Nature-Field-Touched.¡¯ Or someone who can shoot lasers that change the emotions of the targets they hit would be ¡®Psy-Bang-Touched¡¯. If you see two of the categories together like that, it means they¡¯re connected in the same power. If, say, someone had lasers and flight, there would be an ¡®and¡¯ between them. Bang-And-Travel-Touched. That¡¯s common enough that people will use BAT as a descriptor. Or BABAT.¡±


    ¡°Bang-And-Brawn-And-Travel-Touched?¡± I guessed. ¡°For someone with flight, lasers, and super strength.¡± When the woman nodded, I added, ¡°So people like Carousel and Raindrop would be considered Field-Touched, because their powers affect the things around them.¡±


    ¡°Technically,¡± Flea amended for me, ¡°Raindrop is Crowd-And-Field-Touched because her power can affect living people as long as they¡¯re wet. That¡¯s also a common enough combination that people abbreviate it to CAF-Touched, or CAFT. Carousel is only Field-Touched because her power doesn¡¯t affect living beings.¡±


    ¡°What about the ones that start with the same letter?¡± I asked. ¡°How do you tell the difference between, say, someone who is Bang-And-Travel-Touched or someone who is Brawn-And-Travel-Touched? Both abbreviate to BATT.¡±


    ¡°Good point,¡± she agreed. ¡°That¡¯s why they usually say it all out at least once to make sure everyone¡¯s on the same page. Every group is different about how they abbreviate them, or even some of the exact terms they use. It¡¯s a good idea to get clarification.¡±


    As I was nodding to that, the guy I had cuffed muttered, ¡°Spiffy, do I get credit for class attendance too?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the woman informed him. ¡°I¡¯ll be certain to note your interest in attending academic courses to the warden of your prison.¡±


    With that, she made sure I had the guy properly cuffed, then turned to walk back into the store while gesturing for me to follow. On the way, the woman continued. ¡°In any case, the colors of those cuffs refer to what kind of person is authorized to properly move that person. An authorized person can touch the cuffs and they will allow the prisoner to move normally as long as they stay close to that person. Blue is the most common, and it means uniformed police officers. Or anyone above them. All members of the government sanctioned Touched teams are authorized for them as well. Or, of course, the person who applied the cuffs.¡±


    By that point, we¡¯d gotten into the main part of the store, and I could see the damage that had been done. There were several racks tipped over, bullet holes in the walls and shelves, a pile of discarded shopping carts, and about four or five unconscious figures lying around. Flea had been busy. Actually, her power to make people tired probably really helped with the whole ¡®making sure they stayed down¡¯ thing. She just drained them until they fell asleep.


    The two of us pulled all the unconscious figures to the middle of the room, cuffing them. They were still unconscious by that point, as Flea straightened up. ¡°Now what?¡± she asked while looking to me. ¡°What do you think we do next?¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± Shrugging, I offered, ¡°Call the cops and let them know? Just leave seems pretty bad.¡±


    With a soft chuckle, she agreed, ¡°Yes, pretty bad indeed. I assume you already know how to use the Doephone app from Ten Towers.¡±


    For a very brief second, my mind instantly flashed into panic mode, as I reflexively wondered if she somehow knew that I was the person who had sent the message the other night about the dead guys back in that motel. But that was dumb. Even if she did guess that much (like, say, if she had contacts who told her about the whole paint thing), it didn¡¯t mean anything. The Doephone was anonymous. There¡¯d been actual court cases about keeping it anonymous. It was a whole big deal.


    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± I confirmed simply, trying to keep it somewhat vague. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you guys don¡¯t use it, though.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, we don¡¯t,¡± she agreed. ¡°But it works just fine for you. Unless you¡¯ve changed your mind about joining up.¡± Letting that hang very briefly as she glanced to me, the woman then went on without making me answer. ¡°Regardless, you can use the Doephone to report the situation, or call the number That-A-Way provided if you need assistance in containing a more¡­ imminently volatile situation. For something like this, you use the Doephone. And then?¡±


    Biting my lip, I offered, ¡°I¡¯m guessing ¡®and then leave¡¯ still isn¡¯t the right answer.¡±


    I had the feeling she was smiling slightly while replying, ¡°It can be, if that¡¯s your choice. But that also risks the people you¡¯ve stopped being released fairly quickly, without some kind of testimony.¡± As I flinched, she went on a bit quicker, reassuring me, ¡°It doesn¡¯t require you unmask. Simply put, if you want to be more effective, set up a case logger.¡±


    ¡°A case logger?¡± Frowning a little uncertainly, I asked, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    She explained readily. ¡°Basically, a case logger is a confidential voice mail system accessible by you and the DA¡¯s office. Whenever you complete something like this, you call in and leave a voicemail giving as many details as you can about what happened. Someone in the DA¡¯s office will listen to the logs and attach them to case files. Once a month, they will also leave you a message about various cases that they need your deposition for. If you agree to it, you can go in and do that. It means sitting in a private room in the courthouse, in costume, they won¡¯t make you unmask. You¡¯ll sit there with a judge, a court stenographer, and they¡¯ll cycle through each of the attorneys for both sides of all the cases involving you. Both sides will have the chance to ask questions, just like in a courtroom. You¡¯ll give your testimony about what happened and have it recorded for potential use at trial, then leave. That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound too bad,¡± I murmured thoughtfully. ¡°So they just do that once a month?¡±


    The woman nodded. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s different and more involved for official government Touched, but for someone like you, that¡¯s what they¡¯ll do. If you want, I can help you set up your case logger and get it connected to the court.¡±


    Smiling just a little despite myself, I agreed, ¡°I¡­ yeah. Thanks. That sounds nice.¡±


    Okay, Flea was cool. I really hoped she was actually a good guy and not one of my dad¡¯s secret minions.


    That would really suck.


    *******


    When we were done, Flea gave me a box with a bunch of simple zip-ties, and six of those actual metal ¡®stay-down¡¯ cuffs. According to her, I could get more when I needed them from the courthouse if I showed up for those deposition things.


    It was probably a pretty good sign of trust that she gave me the things. So I felt kind of bad that I didn¡¯t trust her enough to take them home. Because despite the fact that Flea seemed nice, I didn¡¯t know if those cuffs might have some kind of tracker on them. So there was no way I was going to take them back to the house. Instead, I put them in a safe place for the time being. Namely, back at the half-finished rec center that I¡¯d been training at near the school


    After that, I headed home. I¡¯d been out to practice moving around, but it was getting pretty late by then. The last thing I wanted was for my parents to notice I was gone too long and start getting curious. Besides, it may have been Saturday, but I was still supposed to meet up with Jae and Amber so we could work on our project.


    It was even easier to sneak in tonight than it had been that first night. Mostly because I understood my power a lot better now. Waiting until the camera at the gate was faced the wrong way, I used a bit of blue paint to jump to the top of the wall, making sure I was in black stealth mode. Keeping low, I ran along the wall toward the house, passing all the trees, flower gardens, and the fountain on the way. Finally, I reached the spot of the wall just across from the house. I could see my bedroom window up there. All I had to do was red-paint myself there and climb in.


    Except just as I was about to do that, I saw shapes moving at one of the other windows, one floor above where my room was and a few rooms down. It was one of my dad¡¯s offices. And the people I could see through the window were him and Mom. My parents were in there, clearly talking.


    Did I dare? Would I really push my luck? Was that more brave or more stupid?


    Whichever one, I had to hear what they were saying. Telling myself I was being dumb, yet unable (or unwilling) to stop, I shot a glob of black paint over to the spot of roof near the window, then used red to yank myself over there, activating the black just before impact to silence my arrival.


    There was a ledge there, running along the wall near the window that I could rest on without having to use my paint to stay. Thankfully, the window was open a crack, so I could hear what was going on. Pressing myself against the wall, I leaned closer and listened.


    ¡°But until then, we¡¯ll just have to wait and see what he does,¡± my mother was saying.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like being passive when it comes to new Touched,¡± my dad replied. ¡°Especially new Touched who might know more than they should about our business.¡±


    Wait, they were talking about me. Did I get here just after they said something important and relevant to my situation? What the hell? That¡¯s not how this was supposed to work. TV lied to me.


    My mother was talking then. ¡°Of course not, but we have been over this. Spilled milk and all that. Focus on what we can affect right now. Namely, this bounty.¡±


    ¡°Blackjack just tripled it,¡± Dad replied. ¡°It¡¯s up to three million now. He wanted to go as high as fifty, but I convinced him to leave it at that. He¡¯s desperate and not thinking straight.¡±


    ¡°Would you,¡± Mom asked, ¡°if it was Cassidy¡¯s life on the line? This is his daughter, Sterling. I¡¯m surprised you convinced him to keep it at three million.¡±


    Blackjack? The leader of La Casa? Dad had enough pull to convince him about what to do with the bounty on that Ashton guy? And whatever was taken from that safe deposit box had to do with the guy¡¯s daughter? Apparently something that was worth her life, from what they were saying. But what could¡¯ve been in a bank that put her life in danger when it was stolen?


    Right, it was even more clear that I should¡¯ve been eavesdropping earlier. Or constantly.


    ¡°Yes, his daughter,¡± Dad agreed. ¡°And even if the other gangs don¡¯t know exactly why it¡¯s so important, they know he¡¯s losing his mind over it. So they¡¯re just as determined to get the vials for themselves. Which is not helping Blackjack stay calm about any of this. If we don¡¯t find the boy or those vials, there¡¯s going to be a war. The people of La Casa will bring hell to this city to save that girl. And you know what it means if things get too out of control.¡±


    Mom sighed. ¡°Attention. Which we don¡¯t need any more of. Brumal already wants to bring more reinforcements in as it is. If a gang war breaks out in the streets, she¡¯ll have the excuse she needs.¡±


    Brumal. She was the leader of the local Spartans, the state-level Touched team as opposed to the Federal-level Conservators. No wonder my parents were concerned about her bringing in more people. Especially if they didn¡¯t have a way to control her.


    Wait, if they didn¡¯t have a way to control her, could she be a good person for me to approach?


    ¡°Have our people keep an eye on her,¡± Dad murmured. ¡°If there¡¯s a problem¡­ we¡¯ll deal with it. We know how to bring her in line if need be.¡±


    Never mind. Restraining the urge to sigh, I focused once more.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Mom was agreeing, ¡°but let¡¯s not tug on that particular line just yet.  There¡¯s a better solution to this problem.¡±


    I heard Dad chuckle darkly. ¡°Of course there is. All we have to do is find one of the Austin boys. Or this¡­ Paintball.¡± He said the last bit with distaste. ¡°And maybe tell him to pick a better name.¡±


    Pffft, rude. What did he know? His real name was Sterling and not only did he pick a Touched name with the word silver in it, it even fit his power. He had it easy.


    ¡°As far as we know,¡± Mom clearly reminded him, ¡°neither of the Austin siblings are anywhere in the city. Which leaves the new Touched boy.¡±


    Dad was quiet for a few seconds before muttering something I didn¡¯t hear. He followed up with, ¡°You think he knows anything about where the vials are?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Mom mused softly, sounding thoughtful. ¡°But at the very least, I think he knows more than we do about what happened to them.¡±


    Boy was I going to disappoint her if we ever had to talk. I didn¡¯t even know these so-called ¡®vials¡¯, whatever they were, existed until now.


    That said, I really hoped we didn¡¯t have to talk. I didn¡¯t exactly trust myself to fool either of my parents in a straight conversation, voice changer or not. I felt like the second I started talking, they would both instantly know who I was. It wasn¡¯t something I wanted to test.


    Both my parents were quiet for a few moments, and I thought they were done. Then Dad spoke up again. ¡°Maybe the direct approach would be best.¡±


    ¡°Direct soft or direct hard?¡± Mom asked. It sounded like she was right near the window, and I silenced the area around me with a shot of black before edging a little bit away, just in case.


    ¡°Soft,¡± Dad replied. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to put him on guard if he doesn¡¯t know about us. But if one of the Minority approaches him and asks about the Austin brothers¡­¡±


    Mom finished for him, ¡°They could tell him about the impending gang war. They don¡¯t need to know details, only that La Casa is going to burn the city down looking for what was stolen. If the boy wants to be a hero, he¡¯ll want to stop that.¡±


    Dad had moved closer by then, also standing near the window as he replied, ¡°Yes. Which should push this Paintball to tell them what he knows about where either of the brothers went. Or where the vials are. You see, there¡¯s no need to play the hard game just yet.¡±


    Hearing the squeak of the window, I quickly put both hands up, shooting a burst of red paint to yank myself up from that spot to the roof. Clinging there, I looked down as my father¡¯s head appeared. It made me tense up, but he didn¡¯t seem to be looking for me. He was just glancing around.


    Before he could happen to look up, I climbed over the edge and laid on the roof for a second. Staring at the sky, I thought about what I¡¯d overheard.


    The thing that was stolen from the La Casa bank was some kind of vial. Or vials, rather. And whatever they were, losing them put Blackjack¡¯s daughter¡¯s life at risk. Medicine, maybe? Probably. Either way, it was definitely a big problem. Even if Blackjack was a bad guy, I couldn¡¯t just let his daughter die.


    The problem was, despite what my parents thought, I didn¡¯t actually know anything useful about where those vials were. I knew that Josh had a ¡®friend who lived in Illinois¡¯ that he was going to stay with. But Illinois was a whole state. It didn¡¯t exactly narrow things down. Plus, even if we found him, he didn¡¯t know where his brother was.


    So my parents and I were actually on the same page. They wanted the vials returned to Blackjack to save his daughter¡¯s life and so did I.


    But I didn¡¯t have the first fucking clue about how to do that.

 Legwork 3-03

    ¡°Man, I still can¡¯t believe you get to come here whenever you want.¡±


    Amber was the one talking, and ¡®here¡¯ was the White Pines Country Club. It was a pretty exclusive place. A pretty exclusive place that my parents happened to be on the board of directors of. We¡¯d been members basically my whole life.


    I wondered how many of the other important members were also supervillains.


    Feeling self-conscious (for a few reasons), I shrugged at both Amber and Jae, who sat next to her. The three of us were out on one of the balconies overlooking the golf course, sitting on some admittedly incredibly plush and comfortable chairs. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. Your families could probably join up if they wanted to. I mean, we all go to the same school, you know.¡±


    Taking a sip of her virgin strawberry daiquiri, Amber shook her head. ¡°No, see, our families are comfortable. High end of comfortable. Yours is filthy stinking rich. There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not just filthy stinking rich people who come here,¡± I pointed out. ¡°If it was, there¡¯d be like, four members.¡± Shifting in my seat as I tried to push my thoughts away from that one about how many of the people I saw here all the time might be evil, I looked to the quiet Jae. ¡°Besides, with how cool she looks, I bet you guys could get in all on your own.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Amber agreed with a wink at her friend, ¡°she is pretty cool.¡±


    Jae, who was wearing dark shades and a large sun hat to help keep her sensitive skin from burning so easily while we were out here in the open, flushed a little and took a drink from her iced tea. Her voice was very soft as she suggested, ¡°We should probably start.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s got a point.¡± Looking to Amber, I added, ¡°We should get to it. I just figured coming out here might be a nice change of pace from holing up in the library or whatever. But we can still work on the project without too many distractions.¡±


    Clearly distracted, the dark-haired girl stared at a passing woman in a short tennis skirt. ¡°Uh huh, not too many distractions. Sounds yummy¨CI mean good.¡± She looked back to me. ¡°Good.¡±


    Giving her a disbelieving stare, I shook my head while muttering, ¡°Has anyone ever told you that you¡¯re as bad as a guy?¡±


    Her response was a Cheshire grin. ¡°Bad wasn¡¯t the word they used.¡± Before I could respond to that, her eyes glanced over my shoulder as she added a quiet, ¡°Heads up.¡±


    I turned, just in time to see basically the last person I wanted to run into (okay, there were a few lower on that list, like Janus). It was Simon, dressed in his own tennis outfit as he smiled broadly while sidling up to the table. ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t my little sister and her friends. And here I thought you didn¡¯t like watching golf.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± I retorted. ¡°I like playing it, but it¡¯s boring to watch. Thankfully, it looks like a lot of people agree with me.¡± I gestured around the mostly empty balcony to illustrate that fact. ¡°So this is a quiet place to work.¡± Pausing pointedly before making my voice sound as lightly teasing as possible, I added, ¡°Or at least, it used to be.¡±


    ¡°Psst,¡± Simon stage-whispered toward Jae with a slight smile. ¡°I think she¡¯s talking to you. There¡¯s already been noise complaints about the racket you¡¯re making out here.¡±


    Jae, in turn, sank a bit in her seat while apparently trying to hide behind her iced tea glass. Her reply was a very quiet, ¡°They must have very sensitive hearing.¡±


    ¡°Ears like rabbits, I tell you,¡± Simon agreed, winking before he looked to me. ¡°Anyway, I just thought I¡¯d see if my little sister was bored.¡±


    ¡°Bored? Not until you showed up,¡± I tried to tease before giving him a firm pushing motion with both hands. ¡°So why don¡¯t you let us get back to work before you put us to sleep?¡±


    Snorting, he gave me a light jab at the shoulder before stepping back. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it. I¡¯ll stop crowding you guys and let you work. You don¡¯t need a ride home, do you?¡±


    The thought of being alone in a car with him made me repress an almost violent shudder. It was all I could do to keep the revulsion off my face while quietly replying, ¡°I think I can manage.¡±


    With a nod to the other two, he headed off. Amber, watching him go, murmured, ¡°Something about him bugs me.¡± She jolted a little then, as I caught the slight motion of Jae subtly kicking her under the table, eyes finding me. ¡°I mean¡­ um, sorry.¡± Flushing as she clearly just realized she¡¯d been talking out loud, the girl gestured. ¡°I guess we should work, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yup. And don¡¯t worry, I uhh, I get it.¡± Leaving it at that, I reached down to grab the bag at my side, taking a book out to set on the table. ¡°Right, so¡­ Laura Cereta.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see what history has to say about you.¡±


    ******


    Hours later, we¡¯d done enough on the project for the day, so Jae and Amber had gone off to do¡­ whatever they were going to do. I, meanwhile, was standing on the roof of a building downtown, dressed in my costume. Because it was time for me to get started on my other project. Namely, finding either Ashton himself, or at least those vials, so Blackjack¡¯s daughter didn¡¯t die.


    Yeah, I had a feeling this project was going to be harder than the other one.


    Face covered by the ski mask but with the helmet hanging loosely from one hand, I tried to think. What did I know? Or at least, what could I be pretty sure of?


    I was pretty sure that Ashton guy was still in the city. Mostly because what he took had to be useless for him personally. It was valuable only as a way of getting money out of Blackjack, or one of the other gangs. Unless I was really off, my guess was that he was going to lie low until it was clear they couldn¡¯t find him in time, then find a way to start auctioning it off. He¡¯d try to get money out of Blackjack, or out of one of the other gang leaders who wanted to take the vial to get control and concessions out of the man. Or just to fuck with him. Either way, it was only worthwhile to Ashton as something to sell. And the only people interested in buying it would be the ones here in this city. So he was probably hiding out somewhere within it.


    But where? He had basically the entire city looking for him. Cops, heroes, villains, entire gangs were going to be roving the city, turning over every stone they could to find this guy. He wouldn¡¯t be able to hide anywhere they could find out about. Every family member, every friend, they¡¯d tear through every clue to drag him out. They¡¯d be going through showing his picture at every motel, homeless shelter, bed and breakfast, taxi driver, bar, everywhere. And yet, despite all the people out scouring the city, apparently he was still safely hidden.


    So how was he doing it? Why had no one been able to find him, even with what had to be incredibly intense motivation? And how was I going to do any better than they were?


    I needed to think outside the box. I needed to figure out where to look that everyone else wasn¡¯t already looking. Obviously, Ashton wasn¡¯t stupid enough to stay somewhere he could easily be noticed. My guess was that, wherever he was, he hadn¡¯t left for a long time. Probably since he stole the vials to begin with. He¡¯d most likely set the place up far ahead of time, so he had food, water, everything he needed to stay holed up without venturing out to be recognized.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Also, I realized belatedly, he¡¯d probably only ever gone there in disguise. There was too big of a chance of someone noticing a new person fitting his description. So, be it a wig and glasses or¡­ or whatever, anyone around where he was staying had probably never seen the real him.


    Right, unless I was wrong, this guy was holed up somewhere he wouldn¡¯t have to come out of for a long time and was disguised so that no one around would recognize him.


    How the hell was I supposed to work with that?


    ¡°You got any ideas, Pinky?¡± My question was addressed not to a cartoon mouse, but toward the blob of pink paint that I had sprayed out onto the nearby wall. Glancing to it, I waited until it was painfully clear that no answer was forthcoming. ¡°Right, so you¡¯re not ¡®magically instill answers¡¯ paint. Got it.¡± Scratch that off the list of possible powers the pink stuff could¡¯ve been hiding.


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to do this myself then. Hmm.¡± Frowning behind the mask, I moved to the edge of the roof and looked down. I¡¯d come to a place across the street from the bank in question, hoping it would give me some ideas to work with. But even looking at it now, I still wasn¡¯t sure.


    Unless¡­ apartments. Right, so I could guess that he¡¯d set up an apartment ahead of time, and that it was stocked with everything he needed. But I was also pretty sure that it would be somewhere within walking distance of the bank. Because he wouldn¡¯t want to take his car there to be found, and there was no way he¡¯d risk a cab or Uber driver remembering him. So he¡¯d walk. Beyond that, he¡¯d also probably want to change into his disguise on the way, rather than doing so at the bank where his disguise would be seen, or at the apartment where his real self would be seen. He¡¯d want to leave the bank as his real self, change somewhere along the way, and show up at his hideout in his disguise. That made sense, right? Yeah, totally made sense.


    So apartments within walking distance of the bank, preferably with a place he could stop and change at. Either a fast food or gas station bathroom, some other store, an alley, something. There were probably a few that fit that bill, depending on how far he¡¯d want to walk. Not longer than ten to fifteen minutes or so, I was guessing, since he would want to get out of sight quick. But not much less or he¡¯d be too close to the bank. He¡¯d want a sweet middle ground where he felt safely distant from them, but close enough to get to and hide in time.


    Okay, then step one in this plan that was slowly taking shape in my head was to identify potential apartments that could fit that bill.


    With that in mind, I put the helmet on my head, adjusted it, and then took a few steps back. Taking a breath to brace myself, I ran forward, painted my legs purple, and leapt as high and far off the roof as I could before extending a hand to shoot a burst of red paint toward the antennae sticking off the edge of the next roof over. Using that to yank myself across the distance before disabling the red paint on my hand, I tucked myself into a flip to fall just under that antennae, landing on the roof on both feet before sprinting once more.


    I was going apartment hunting.


    ******


    Cripes, there were a lot of apartments in Detroit.


    Yeah, a lot. Even narrowing it down the way I had still left more than I¡¯d thought there would be. Being incredibly picky about it, I ended up with six strong possibilities. Six apartment complexes that were within the right distance, that seemed private and quiet enough, and generally fit the idea I¡¯d had in my head. If none of those six panned out, I¡¯d have to expand. But I¡¯d start there.


    To that end, I was crouched on the roof of yet another building (I was becoming very acquainted with roofs already), watching the nearest possibility. It was a small complex that amounted to four main buildings, all in a line, with dog paths between the first two and a pool between the others. There was a high fence all the way around the whole place, with a gated parking lot.


    It was late enough that the windows of the main office were dark. They¡¯d been closed up for a few hours by that point, the employees long gone aside from possibly a night manager, who didn¡¯t work in the main office itself.


    So the main office was clear. Exactly as I wanted. Looking around briefly to make sure I wasn¡¯t being watched, I used a purple strength boost combined with a blue springboard to fling myself high into the air, then red-paint-yanked myself across the street and down toward the building in question. A shot of black made sure my landing would be silent, as I came down in a crouch.


    Waiting there for a minute just to see if anyone had seen anything, I couldn¡¯t hear any reactions. So I slid over to the far side of the roof, leaning over to carefully look through the window.


    Nothing. It was dark aside from the light from the screen savers on a couple computer monitors. Which was just perfect for me. Aside from the fact that I was about to technically break into a place illegally. Yeah, I probably needed to work on that whole ¡®hero¡¯ thing. But this was important. Plus, I wouldn¡¯t actually be stealing anything. Nor would I be really be breaking.


    Nope, no breaking here. Instead, I boosted myself back up onto the roof and took a phone from my pocket. This one wasn¡¯t mine, it was a pay-as-you-go phone I¡¯d picked up from a gas station. I¡¯d already taken it from the package and made sure it worked, and now I used it to look up the number of the after-hours office for this place. Dialing it in before lifting the front of my helmet and mask, I carefully moved the slider on my voice changer over to the first option.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± a male voice grumpily spoke up. ¡°I mean, ahh, Four Pines Apartments, how can I help you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, hello,¡± I started. My voice sounded like an old woman. Mostly because I was pretty sure no one on the other end of the phone would have listened to either my regular voice or the one I used that sounded like a fourteen year old boy. ¡°I think someone might¡¯ve made a mistake at your office, young man.¡±


    There was a brief pause before the guy replied, a little uncertainly. ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am, if you have a problem with your bill, I¡¯m sure you can¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, no, no,¡± I interrupted. ¡°This isn¡¯t a complaint. I¡¯m just calling to warn you that someone left the door to the main office open. My little Posey almost ran right in there after the squirrel. I shut the door so no one else would go rooting through your things, but it¡¯s still there. The squirrel, that is.¡±


    The man on the phone clearly had to take a second at that, realizing he wasn¡¯t about to be sworn out by an angry tenant. ¡°Oh¨CI¨Cright, thank you, Miss¡­?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re quite welcome, young man. Have a good evening.¡±


    With those words, I disconnected. There, that should do it. Laying on my stomach, I carefully watched the path leading up to the main door into the office.


    I didn¡¯t have to wait long. Within a couple minutes, I spotted a figure moving quickly along the sidewalk from one of the other buildings. Laying flat, my costume painted black, I watched as a man in his late twenties approached, grumbling to himself. Slowing as he approached, I heard the man mutter about people not locking the door, just as he went to open it.


    ¡°What¡­¡± There was a brief pause, then a jangle of keys as the man unlocked the door before carefully stepping inside. ¡°Hello? Squirrel? Are there any squirrels in here?¡±


    Leaning carefully over the edge of the roof, I peered down and watched. The man made his way into the office. As soon as he was through the door, I activated the black paint to silence myself, dropping behind him before quickly and carefully scooting through the doorway. There was a small lobby, with several private offices attached to it. The man was standing in the middle, looking around for the supposed squirrel. Quickly, I slipped to the right, through the open doorway of one of the offices to slip out of sight.


    The man looked around a little bit more, but it was pretty half-hearted now that he¡¯d found the door locked. I heard him talking to himself as he tried calling the number of the phone that had called him, but I¡¯d already turned it off.


    Finally, he gave up and stomped out, locking the door behind him. Once he was definitely gone, I straightened up and moved to the nearby computer.


    Password locked. And no convenient password written down anywhere. Damn. But there were still several more computers. I moved quickly to the next office.


    They were apparently pretty security conscious here, at least as far as computers went. Or they were used to other employees trying to snoop on them. All the computers were locked, but I was able to find a password written on a post-it note inside one of the desk drawers of the last office. That opened the computer, and I went through the files, looking for resident information.


    There it was. They had it in an Excel file, which I brought up and sorted by date, looking for anyone who had rented an apartment within the past six months. Ashton might¡¯ve started this further back than that, but I was kind of doubting it.


    Once I had that list of nine possibilities, I looked at other criteria. Anyone with more than one person living there was immediately dismissed. I also looked at birthdates, mentally crossing out anyone who was definitely too old to be Ashton in a simple disguise.


    Doing all that left three possibilities. Three different apartments. Noting where they were on the handy map posted on the wall, I turned everything back off, then carefully opened a nearby window and slipped out to climb back on the roof. Three apartments to play peeping tom at, just to see if any of the people in there looked like they could be Ashton.


    They didn¡¯t. One was a black guy, and the other two were Hispanic. None were white, and none looked anything like the picture I¡¯d looked up of the man I was looking for. While he could have been in disguise even in the confines of his safe apartment, I kind of doubted it. And it wouldn¡¯t have been that much of a disguise.


    So, unless I¡¯d missed something, these apartments were a bust. But that still left another five possibilities to check.


    Yeah, it was gonna be a long night.

 Legwork 3-04

    I was right about it being a long night. It took me another two and a half hours to actually check the next four places on the list I¡¯d put together. Five of the six were as thoroughly searched as I could, and I still hadn¡¯t managed to find Ashton. Not that it being hard to find this guy was that surprising. He¡¯d managed to stay hidden from what amounted to an entire city searching for him.


    But I had one more place to look. It was the smallest of the apartments I¡¯d picked out, consisting of what amounted to large house separated into a few separate units. Part of me thought that might be too small and put him too close to nosy neighbors. But on the other hand, if he had developed a reputation for keeping to himself¡­ it could work.


    As small as the place was, it also meant there was no on-site manager¡¯s office to check or anything. Which was another part of why I¡¯d saved it for last. I was going to have to go peeping in all the windows to check for my quarry, which I had been really hoping to avoid. Oh well. Finding Ashton to stop the gang war and save a little girl, no matter whose daughter she might have been, was worth it. I¡¯d just be quick and try not to¡­ pay attention to anything private.


    Repeating that silent mantra to myself as I stood by a dumpster in the alley beside the building in question, I took a few more deep breaths. Making sure I was all painted black aside from a bit of purple on my legs, I finally turned and stepped around the dumpster. Activating that bit of purple as well as the black that was on my shoes, I leapt up and over the tall wooden fence there. Landing silently, I crouched, watching the building. There were lights on in three of the four apartments, including the nearest one. That was the one I moved toward, staying low.


    The building itself was a tall Victorian-style place. There were two apartments on the bottom floor, each taking up half of the level, and a matching two on the top floor. It was the lower-right apartment that I was heading for. The fence around the property kept me from being seen by passersby, so all I had to worry about was someone seeing me through one of the windows.


    There were bushes lining the windows I was heading for, so I stayed low and carefully stepped around them. Knowing how bad this would look if I was seen, I kept going anyway. Very slowly inching through the back of the bushes, I leaned up to take a quick peek through the window.


    It was a kitchen. There was an open pizza box there on the table, and I could see a television on through the open doorway. There was also the back of someone¡¯s head sitting on the couch, but I couldn¡¯t see a face.


    Thankfully, I only had to wait a few seconds while racking my brain before the person sitting there stood up. They were a black guy. Definitely not the one I was looking for. Just as he turned to head for the kitchen (and probably that pizza), I quickly ducked out of sight.


    One down, three to go. Debating about whether I should go straight up to the next one, or work my way around the building to check the other lower one (the far upper side was the one where the lights were off), I eventually decided on the former. The upper apartment was right there. So, renewing a bit of black silencing paint on my shoes to keep my costume nicely dark, I sent a bit of red up to a spot just under the window above this one, then let myself be yanked that way. The ten seconds that my red paint lasted would hopefully be enough to look for the inhabitant.


    As it turned out, ten seconds was more than enough. Because the instant I hit the wall and peeked through that window, I saw the apartment¡¯s occupant. And that was the end of my search.


    It was him. It was Ashton. I knew that from the instant I saw him, in a side-on profile as the man was standing in front of the microwave. He¡¯d dyed his hair and had cut the beard he used to have, but it was definitely him.


    It was also a really good thing that I¡¯d used the black paint to silence myself, because I actually gasped out loud, which probably would¡¯ve given me away. As it was, something seemed to catch the guy¡¯s attention, because he started to turn just as I ducked out of sight.


    Him. It was him. He was right there. All this time and the guy was¨C


    My paint ran out. Realizing that at the last second, I started to fall. There was only one thing I could do to avoid attention. I activated the rest of the black paint on my costume, as well as a bit of orange to protect myself. Silent and safe from damage, I crashed into the bush.


    Yeah, that would¡¯ve sucked without my paint. As it was, I still made a bit of noise. Or rather, the bush itself did. I snapped off a couple small branches and lay there, half-sprawled for a second before quickly scrambling off and ducking myself as low as possible under the shrubbery, just as I caught the sound of the window above me sliding open.


    Pizza guy stood by the open window, just above me. I lay there, just a few feet under him, as the man leaned out the window and looked left, then right. The two of us stayed like that for a moment, me not even daring to breathe. My eyes were wide as I stared up at him while staying as still as possible. I willed myself to be smaller, trying to press down into the dirt.


    Finally, the man grunted, withdrawing back into the room. I heard him slide the window shut, then walk away. Listening to the floor creak, I finally exhaled, closed my eyes, and let my head fall back into the dirt. Taking a couple deep breaths to steady myself, I finally opened my eyes once more.


    Just in time to see Ashton leaning out the upper story window, staring right down at me.


    The guy must¡¯ve seen my head move or something, because he withdrew back into the apartment instantly. Cursing frantically under my breath, I quickly jerked my hand up and shot a wad of red paint up to the edge of the roof, above that window. Letting it yank me off the ground and up, I shifted my legs purple. Just as I reached the red spot, hand clapping against the wall, my other hand shot a short spray of black paint at the window to silence it. Then I drew my legs back and quickly kicked out while dismissing the red paint on my first hand. Kicking through that window with a spray of shattered (silent) glass, I landed in the kitchen on my knees.


    Ashton was there. Right there. He had grabbed a pistol off the counter, and was turning back toward me. Just as he brought it up, I threw myself to the left, behind the table there. There was a quick series of soft whuff whuff whuff sounds from the clearly specially silenced weapon, as he shot three times, each bullet striking the windowsill right behind where I had been crouching.


    Before he could recover and check his aim, both of my hands snapped up. I shot a bit of red paint at the man¡¯s chest, while slapping my other palm onto the table to leave more red there. Activating both sent the table up into the air, as it flipped over to slam into the man with a crash.


    His gun dropped to the floor with a clatter, as I sprang back to my feet. The table had already fallen, as the guy grabbed a nearby carving knife from the wooden holder and came after me with it. He swung wildly twice, both of which I quickly dodged before I snapped a hand up to intercept the third swing. My glove turned orange for protection, just as I caught the blade.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Ashton stared at me for an instant. Which was all the time I needed to shift one of my arms purple. Yanking the weapon from his grasp, I caught his arms and gave him a hard yank up and around. His feet left the floor, as I threw him backward against the far wall. He hit it hard, slumping down with a groan.


    Below us, pizza guy banged on his ceiling a few times, clearly annoyed by the noise. Which was probably good. If he felt safe enough to bang instead of calling the cops, he must not have thought anything too bad was going on.


    Maybe it was stupid to not want the cops to show up, but I had a feeling they wouldn¡¯t be quick to give whatever vial Ashton had stolen straight to Blackjack. And bad guy or not, I wasn¡¯t going to condemn his daughter to death for what he did. The cops could have Ashton after I got what he stole.


    Dazed as he might¡¯ve been, Ashton didn¡¯t stay down. His hand grabbed a loose plate from floor, which he chucked at me like a frisbee. Seeing his motion, I¡¯d already painted a green image of a stick figure running onto my chest, using it to speed myself up. My hand snapped out to catch the plate in midair, and I tossed it to the side while blurting, ¡°Stop that, asshole!¡±


    Instead of stopping, the man dove for his gun. With a sigh, I shot a bit of red at it, yanking the weapon from the floor to my grasp before he could get it. Then I set it on the counter behind me, snapping, ¡°Are you done now? Knock it¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, I was interrupted by the man scrambling off the floor to throw himself at me. My green paint had worn off by then, but he came at me so wildly, it was easy to sidestep him. Catching his arm and back, I put purple around myself once more before turning to hurl him again. He went crashing face-first into the fridge. And that time, he stayed down, groaning.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I announced, ¡°now you¡¯re done.¡± Grumbling to myself, I sent a bit of red paint to the man¡¯s foot, and another to the floor somewhat near me. I wasn¡¯t going to step over there and risk him somehow taking me by surprise. So I just used the paint to yank him out into the open where I could see him better.


    He lay there, dazed, while I quickly checked the man for more weapons or anything else. I was ready for him to make a move, but he just stayed still (aside from the occasional groan), while I ran my hands over his pants, up across his chest, then under to check his back. He was clear. Which was both good, bad, and good again. Good because he didn¡¯t have any weapons. Bad because the vials weren¡¯t on him. And good again because that meant they weren¡¯t broken from that whole little thing where I kept throwing the guy around or tossing tables into him.


    That done, before he could recover too much, I hesitated. Part of me wanted to use a pair of those cuffs Flea had given me on him. But I hadn¡¯t actually brought them with me. They were still in the box that I¡¯d hidden at the half-finished skating place where I¡¯d been training because I¡¯d forgotten to grab them before coming out here to do all this.


    So I didn¡¯t have any way to cuff him. I did however, yank the cord out of a nearby blender and the attached wall socket. Kneeling down, I tied the man¡¯s hands behind his back as quickly and tightly as I could before quickly stepping back. By that time, he seemed to have settled a bit, rolling over to stare up at me. ¡°So who sent you, kid?¡± he demanded. ¡°Blackjack? You tell that¨C¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t send me,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Nobody did. And I¡¯m not after you for the reward. Tell me where the vials you took are.¡±


    Glaring my way, he shook his head. ¡°I dunno who you think you are, kid. But you¨C¡±


    He grunted in surprise as I shot a small ball of red paint at his chest. It didn¡¯t hurt, but seeing the blob fly from my hand to hit him made him jerk a bit.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± I informed him. ¡°That¡¯s who I am. And I want to know where the vials are. Do you have any idea what¡¯s going to happen if Blackjack doesn¡¯t get them back?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he snapped, ¡°I do. Which means I know that bastard has all the motivation he needs to pay me for them. Give it another day or so and he¡¯ll write me a blank check.¡±


    For a moment, I just stared at the man. ¡°What the hell are you¨C you¡¯re endangering a girl¡¯s life!¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Ashton echoed, his words a snarl. ¡°What about the life of my friend?! That fight between La Casa and Oscuro last year? One of the La Casa fucks took a few shots and missed. But they hit my best friend. His name was Carlos, and he¡¯s dead. He died because of them. He wasn¡¯t even involved. He was just walking by when the La Casa bastards started shooting. He¡¯s dead, and no one gives a shit! So yeah, I¡¯m gonna fuck Blackjack over. I got nothing against his kid, and I¡¯ll give the vials over if he pays me. But if he doesn¡¯t and worse comes to worst, that¡¯s on him.¡±


    Swallowing, my head shook. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your friend. I am. But you can¡¯t just use a tragedy as an excuse to be an evil asshole. That kid, she¡­ she didn¡¯t do anything to you.¡± Softening my voice (and hoping the voice changer itself was good enough to pick that up), I added, ¡°I didn¡¯t know your friend, but do you really think he would¡¯ve wanted you to put some innocent kid¡¯s life in danger just to get a payday out of Blackjack? Which, for the record, doesn¡¯t sound much like justice to me. You¡¯re not trying to stop him, you¡¯re not trying to bring him to justice. You¡¯re just threatening his kid to get money out of him. That¡¯s selfish. You¡¯re using your friend¡¯s death for your own profit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m using it as motivation!¡± he snapped right back at me, glare blazing hotly. ¡°Carlos is dead because of that cocksucker. I¡¯m gonna need money to get out of this town and make a new life. The one Carlos and I always said we were gonna live. And doing it with Blackjack¡¯s money, that¡¯s just fucking poetic justice.¡±


    ¡°No it¡¯s not,¡± I murmured. ¡°It¡¯s an excuse.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care!¡± he all-but thundered, pushing himself into a sitting position with his hands still tied. ¡°That son of a bitch is going to feel afraid! He¡¯s gonna feel the same thing I felt when I heard Carlos was shot! He¡¯s gonna be scared of losing someone he cares about, and then he¡¯s going pay out the ass to stop it! And then¨C¡±


    He stopped, but my head snapped to him, as I finished his words. ¡°And then he¡¯ll lose her anyway. That¡¯s right, isn¡¯t it? You were lying before. You aren¡¯t going to give the vials back. You have no intention of giving them over. Even if he pays, you want him to lose her. You want to take his daughter away from him, just like he helped take Carlos away from you.¡±


    Now he was really glaring. Sitting there, staring at me as if I was the one who killed his friend, his mouth opened to say something. But that was when the sudden creak of a gate outside caught my attention. Turning, I glanced out the broken window.


    Touched. There were Touched there. Two La Casa Touched, and several of their non-Touched minions. They were coming through the gate, pointing up at the building, at this apartment. How had they¨C


    A sound made me spin back the other way in time to see Ashton pull something from one of the drawers, fumbling with it with his hands behind his back. Before I could react, he pressed something on whatever he¡¯d grabbed, and the world exploded.


    Or at least, it seemed to. There was a sudden deafening and blinding¡­ explosion of sorts. A flashbang with a shockwave that knocked me to the ground. The table and chairs went flying, glasses shattered, and I was left lying there, completely out of it. My vision went in and out, I heard a loud buzzing sound, and it was all I could do not to throw up. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t focus, couldn¡¯t¡­ couldn¡¯t make myself¡­ do anything but¡­ close my eyes.


    ¡°¨Cnot here, damn it!¡±


    The voice snapped me awake, and I saw men in the room. They were the same ones I¡¯d seen before, the ones from La Casa. Staring up through bleary, barely conscious vision, I saw one of the Fell-Touched standing over me. His name was Double Down, and he wore black chainmail-like armor over his lower half, and a black leather bomber jacket with two face cards, a king and an ace of spades, printed across the front. The top half of his face was covered by a form-fitting white mask, leaving his mouth and short blond hair exposed.


    ¡°If he¡¯s not here, our new friend here knows something about where he went,¡± Double Down was saying to someone I couldn¡¯t make my eyes focus on. ¡°Grab him and let¡¯s get out of here before company shows.


    ¡°Blackjack is gonna want to talk to this kid.¡±

 Legwork 3-05

    I was too dazed to put up much of a fight. And there were too many of them anyway. Before I really understood what was happening, my hands were tied behind my back with some kind of cord, and the men basically frog marched me out of the building and into the back of a car.


    Double Down got into the back of the car beside me, with one of the other men driving in the front. We pulled away from the curb with a squeal of tires as the sound of police sirens in the distance got closer.


    Wincing at the sound of the tires, Double Down leaned forward a bit, putting a hand on the back of the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Come on, man. We¡¯re trying not to attract attention now.¡±


    With a sigh, he leaned back once more and looked to me. ¡°Good help, am I right?¡±


    For a moment, I just stared at him. My voice was dull. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡±


    The man cracked his knuckles and glanced out the window as we drove for a few seconds while my mind raced. Then he turned back to me. ¡°First of all, relax a little bit. You¡¯re not being taken to be tortured or killed or anything like that. The boss doesn¡¯t go in for that stuff, even if he is kinda pissed and desperate right now. Especially since you¡¯re a kid. I mean, not a kid but¡­¡± He gestured vaguely at me. ¡°You¡¯re not an adult, okay?¡±


    ¡°Two more minutes,¡± I said flatly.


    His head tilted a little curiously as the man watched me. ¡°Two minutes?¡±


    I nodded once. ¡°Two minutes. If you people had held off for two minutes, I could have given you the stuff from the bank. I was right there with him. You coming in distracted me and he set off that¡­ whatever it was.¡±


    ¡°Stun grenade,¡± Double Down informed me. ¡°And how much do you know about what that guy stole?¡± He was watching me somewhat suspiciously. Maybe he was thinking that my knowing too much about it could imply that I was working with Ashton or something. After all, they didn¡¯t know what I had been doing in there. And I couldn¡¯t exactly explain that I¡¯d overheard my supervillain parents talking about it.


    Taking a quick second to decide how to answer, I settled on, ¡°I met the guy¡¯s brother when some thugs were trying to beat information out of him. I found out Ashton was the one who stole the thing from the bank. I¡¯ve been tracking him down so his brother could be safe again. When we were in the apartment back there, he told me why he stole the vials and what they were for.¡±


    The best part about that story was that it was all true, for the most part anyway. And it didn¡¯t require the bit about my parents to work, which had to make it worth extra points in the keeping secrets Olympics.


    Wait, did they have those? Because this was excellent training for future medalling efforts.


    Double Down seemed to take it well enough. At the very least, he focused on a different part. ¡°He told you why he stole it, how much he wanted?¡±


    Hesitating slightly, I started carefully, ¡°He¡¯s says he¡¯s going to ask for money.¡±


    ¡°Money is not exactly an object in this case,¡± the man replied. ¡°So that¡¯s kind of a relief. If he¡¯s willing to sell it, then he can be reasoned w¡ª¡±


    I quickly interrupted. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to give them back. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s ever planning to give them back no matter how much you pay him.¡±


    Staring at me, his brief good cheer gone, the man asked, ¡°Do you want to explain that?¡±


    So, I did. Carefully and simply, I laid out what Ashton had said about his friend who was killed and how he wanted Blackjack to feel the same helplessness he had. I also mentioned how he had reacted when I had guessed that was his plan.


    Once I had finished, Double Down turned away. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck while staring out the window. I heard him mutter a soft curse. Then he turned back to me and held out a bag. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m going to need you to put this on. Like I said, you don¡¯t have to worry about any torture or anything like that. You¡¯re going to come in with us once we get where we¡¯re going and talk to the boss. That¡¯s it. Don¡¯t start any trouble in there and you¡¯ll be fine. You¡¯ll be back out playing hero or whatever you want to do in no time.¡±


    Staring at the bag and then at him, I retorted, ¡°I¡¯m really supposed to believe you people are just going to let me go?¡±


    His response first was a shrug. ¡°Like I said, the boss has rules. Think of it as our Geneva Convention. We don¡¯t torture. We don¡¯t try to kill civilians. It¡¯s not unheard of or anything, but we don¡¯t make a point of it. If something happens to you in the middle of a fight, well, that¡¯s one thing. But we¡¯re not in combat now. Not unless you start one. You¡¯re a prisoner. You do what you¡¯re told and we¡¯ll let you go. We see you later in the middle of a fight situation, and that¡¯ll be a different story. But right now, all we want is to have a conversation. We can be civilized like that, don¡¯t you think? Especially considering you already know the stakes we¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    It took me another second, but finally I sighed and nodded, waiting as he put the bag on for me. It was just big enough to fit over the helmet. Pulling it on, I turned my head his way. ¡°How do you know I don¡¯t have some kind of power to see through this? I mean, I don¡¯t. But you kind of have to take my word for that, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Nanocircuits sewn into the bag,¡± he replied. ¡°They detect any kind of vision power or anything like that being used and the bag will incinerate the contents.¡±


    He held that just long enough for my brain to seize up before snorting. ¡°Dude, I¡¯m just fucking with you. There¡¯s no nanocircuits. After you put the bag on, I pointed a gun at your face. If you would have reacted, we would¡¯ve known you could see through it.¡±


    ¡°And if I¡¯d have reacted violently!?¡± I demanded in a voice that squeaked even more through with the voice changer than it really needed to, in my opinion.


    There was a brief pause before the man admitted, ¡°Yeah, that might¡¯ve gotten bad. But hey, it¡¯s all good. Now just sit back and relax for a minute. We¡¯ll be there before you know it.¡±


    *******


    Apparently ¡®before I knew it¡¯ was about ten more minutes of driving. I didn¡¯t know if they were deliberately going further than they needed to in order to throw me off or what. It wasn¡¯t like I could keep track of the turns or anything. I tried, but it got confusing too quickly. That also might¡¯ve been purposeful.


    Either way, eventually we stopped in what sounded like an underground parking garage, going by the echoes. I was helped out of the car, then escorted to what was obviously an elevator with the bag still on my head. We rode the elevator up, and partway through, Double Down pulled the bag off and cut the cords binding my hands. He passed them off to the other guy in the elevator with us (I thought it was the driver, but all the minor guys were wearing simple black masks so it was hard to be sure) before looking to me as I glanced around the elevator. It looked like any other elevator in any office building anywhere except for the fact that there was no array of buttons. There was just a single slot for a key, which was filled right now.


    ¡°Like I said,¡± Double Down reminded me, ¡°play nice, answer questions, and we¡¯ll let you go.¡±


    Rather than bother responding verbally, I just gave him a thumbs up. How sarcastic that gesture actually was¡­ well, I¡¯d leave that up to him to interpret. I was busy trying to think of exactly what to say to the La Casa leader.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Blackjack. Nobody was exactly sure what his power was, aside from the fact that he seemed to be very lucky and good at guessing secrets. Which was¡­ worrying, considering my own secrets. They said he wasn¡¯t actually telepathic or anything (though there were some arguments about that). What everyone basically agreed on was that the man could pull information out of seemingly nowhere, and he always seemed to be several steps ahead of everyone else in a fight.


    He clearly wasn¡¯t perfect, though. Or Ashton never would have been able to steal the medicine or whatever it was from him.


    Shaking that thought off as the elevator came to a stop, I watched the door slide open, revealing what looked like¡­ well, it looked like a nuclear bunker or something. The hall ahead of us was made of thick cement with some kind of metal plates over part of it, leading to a single vault-like door that was standing open. Through it, I could see two guards in their black masks waiting. The room behind them seemed even more secure. Going by the size of the vault door, the walls were at least three feet thick.


    ¡°You seriously want me to walk in there?¡± I demanded, looking to my escort.


    ¡°We¡¯re careful,¡± he informed me in a flat voice. ¡°And thorough. I told you you¡¯d be fine if you just answer questions, and that hasn¡¯t changed. You¡¯ll meet the boss in our secure room, answer some questions and make sure he¡¯s satisfied that you¡¯re telling the truth, then we¡¯ll escort you out. So let¡¯s go. Don¡¯t start something now.¡±


    As unsettling as it might have been to walk into a place as apparently escape-proof as this seemed to be, I didn¡¯t have much of a choice. I could try to fight, but I was pretty sure there were a lot more guards around than I could see. To say nothing of any automated defenses in this place. And I didn¡¯t have the key to use the elevator, nor did I know any other way to get out. Or where to go. Yeah, all of that sounded bad.


    My only choice was to keep playing nice and hope that they were telling the truth about letting me go. Or, failing that, watching for a chance to escape when they lowered their guards.


    All of which meant walking into that vault room was my best chance. So I did. With a soft sigh, I walked forward, through the small antechamber/hallway, and into the vault. The two guards waiting stepped aside as I approached, allowing me to pass with Double Down and the other unnamed guard right behind me.


    The place clearly wasn¡¯t exactly designed with comfort in mind. It was a simple, square room about seventy five feet across. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all that same hard cement with uniform metal plates spaced a foot or so apart. In the middle of the room was a table with a few leather chairs spaced around it. One man sat in the single chair on the opposite side of the table, facing me.


    Blackjack. It was him. The man stared as I entered, watching me through that gold face mask he wore. His expression was, obviously, impossible for me to see. But judging from his body language, he was¡­ tense, to say the least.


    Behind me, the vault door groaned a bit as it closed with a final, definitive thud. Then I heard half a dozen bolts loudly clang into place. Whatever was going to happen next, I wasn¡¯t going back through that door until they opened it.


    I really hoped Double Down was telling the truth about letting me go after I talked to Blackjack. Because otherwise, I had no idea what I was going to do.


    I was starting to think I was in a little bit over my head here.


    ¡°Mr¡­ Paintball, was it?¡± As he spoke, Blackjack gestured to the seat straight across from him. ¡°Please, join me. I trust my associate ensured you that you are in no danger here as long as you cooperate?¡±


    For a moment, I just stood there. Then I sighed under my breath before following his instructions, stepping over to sit down. ¡°Call me crazy,¡± I started, ¡°but I¡¯m pretty sure you already know he did because you were listening in on that entire conversation from the car all the way up through the elevator. Hell, you might¡¯ve been telling him what to say. Something tells me you¡¯re just that kind of person.¡±


    The man inclined his head a little, as if appraising me. Then he simply announced, ¡°Using a voice synthesizer. I assume that means you interact with people in costume who might recognize your voice otherwise.¡±


    Trying to keep the surprise out of my voice, I took a quick second to swallow back every initial reaction I had. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple seconds, I replied, ¡°I said something I figured out about you, so you said something you figured out about me?¡±


    Rather than respond to that directly, Blackjack watched me in somewhat unnerving silence for a moment before speaking carefully. ¡°I know what you said. But I¡¯d like you to tell me all of it again, now, in person. From start to finish, explain how you found Ashton Austin and what happened while you were in his apartment. Any detail at all might help locate him.¡±


    Here went nothing. Taking a deep breath, I explained everything about how I¡¯d rescued Josh the other night and found out about Ashton being his brother. Then I went on to say that I¡¯d been looking for Ashton so that Josh wouldn¡¯t be in danger, and gave my reasoning for the apartments I¡¯d checked, finally leading me to the right place. Then I told him everything about the conversation I¡¯d had with the guy, adding in a tiny detail about him being the one to tell me that it was medicine and who it was intended for.


    ¡°Well,¡± Blackjack informed me, ¡°you are certainly a very resourceful young man, I¡¯ll tell you that much. You believe he had the vials on him?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°I checked him and they weren¡¯t there. But I think they were close. I figure he hid them somewhere safe enough to grab and run for it. I mean, he was smart enough to set up that stun grenade, and probably other traps.¡±


    Pushing himself up from the table, the man turned away. He walked over to the nearby wall, resting his hands against it while leaning over, as though lost in thought. Seeing him, how tense he was despite an obvious attempt to project himself as calm and collected, I would¡¯ve known this was life and death for him even if I wasn¡¯t already aware.


    ¡°I know,¡± the man finally broke the silence, ¡°that you are leaving certain details out or rearranging them. I¡¯m not exactly sure why, but I do¡­ believe that you are simply protecting yourself or avoiding giving away information.¡± He turned his head, looking to me. ¡°I do not believe that you are hiding details that could help me. But if I am wrong¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I quickly put in. ¡°If I knew how to find the medicine, I¡¯d tell you. I mean¡­ you¡¯re a bad guy, but your daughter isn¡¯t. She doesn¡¯t deserve to¡­ she doesn¡¯t deserve to lose her medicine just because you¡¯re a Fell-Touched. Letting her die isn¡¯t just punishment for you being¡­ what you are. I promise, if I could help, I¡­ I would.¡±


    Blackjack¡¯s voice was dark, as he informed me, ¡°I will find this man. And when I do, he should hope with all of his soul that I make him pay for simply endangering my child, and not for¡­¡± He didn¡¯t say the rest of the sentence. He didn¡¯t need to. The fear underlying every word was enough.


    Looking toward Double Down then, the man nodded. ¡°Give it to him.¡±


    At those words, his subordinate stepped up to me, handing a cheap flip phone over. ¡°There¡¯s one number programmed into it,¡± he informed me. ¡°You find this guy again, you call the number.¡±


    My hand took the phone, but I shook my head very slightly. ¡°I¡¯m not going to sic your men on him. I¡¯ll get the medicine and then call your people after the cops have him.¡±


    ¡°Young man,¡± Blackjack spoke in a tired voice, ¡°you say that as though I could not have men take him from any jail the local authorities put him in. I could have him killed or released to be brought to me.¡± He stepped back over to the table, pushing his chair in with one hand while remaining standing beside it. ¡°But whatever makes you happy, as they say. I want the vials that were stolen from the bank. That¡¯s it. If you return those, the bounty is yours.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about the bounty,¡± I informed him quickly. ¡°I care about your daughter getting her medicine. That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°All the same,¡± he replied, ¡°I will owe you.¡± His head tilted a little, as though something had just occurred to him. ¡°Though if you are¡­ set for funds, I¡¯m sure there will be other ways of paying that debt. Given how you tracked down Mr. Austin to begin with, you would fit in quite well among my people.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I replied as airily as I could, ¡°Paintball doesn¡¯t really fit the whole gambling theme. And I just don¡¯t know what I¡¯d change it to. Also, I don¡¯t want to be a bad guy.¡±


    Besides, I added silently, even if I did, I¡¯ve already got what you¡¯d call an ¡®in¡¯ with a different group of murderous psychopaths.


    ¡°As you wish,¡± Blackjack replied, sounding every bit the tired, stressed, horrified father rather than the supervillain he was supposed to be.  ¡°Mr¡­ Paintball,¡± he started slowly then. ¡°I believe you may be just the outsider who can track down this man again. You did it once. Should you do so again, I do not particularly care if you call us, or the authorities first. Secure the medicine and return it to me, and I will owe you a favor with the worth of my¡­ my daughter¡¯s life.¡±


    Holding up the phone, I promised, ¡°If I find him, if I get the vials, they¡¯re yours.¡± I resisted the urge to point out again how close I¡¯d been to getting the vials to begin with before his men had interrupted. The guy felt bad enough as it was, despite how much he was trying to portray himself as calm and collected.


    ¡°One week.¡± The man¡¯s voice cracked very slightly before he controlled it, looking straight at me from behind that golden mask. ¡°My daughter has one week. Find the vials, and do it within that time. If you do not, I¡­. I will have no reason to hold back any more. If my daughter dies, I promise you, it will not be one man who pays for her death.


    ¡°It will be this entire city.¡±

 Interlude 3A - The Girl With The Lizards

    Three months ago


    Wearing a dark green ski mask and a black leather jacket with the logo of an alligator on the back, the somewhat busty girl entered the jewelry store shortly before closing time. As she passed through the metal detector, the old security guard sitting at a chair nearby came to his feet, his hand already reaching for his holstered pistol at the sight of the mask.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am, I¡¯m going to need you to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Gently,¡± the masked girl interrupted without looking that way. ¡°He¡¯s an old man, we don¡¯t want to hurt him.¡±


    The elderly guard¡¯s mouth opened to ask what that meant, but before more than a couple sounds had escaped him, something almost but not quite invisible reached out to catch hold of him. The thing blended in with the wall behind the man, the floor under their feet, and the very air itself to the point of being all but impossible to truly see at a glance. One had to look very close to even hope to make out its vague, ill-defined shape.


    Whatever it was, the thing behind the guard pulled him back and squeezed just tight enough to make him collapse, lowering the old man gently to the ground, as ordered.


    By that point, the handful of customers and staff still in the store had noticed what was going on, and were staring that way. One of the sales people behind the counter began to edge toward what was obviously an alarm button. Before she could get close to it, however, the masked girl called, ¡°Tuesday!¡±


    At that single, unexpected word (particularly considering it was actually Friday), a small shape leapt up from behind the girl. It landed on her shoulder just long enough to launch itself across the room to land on the counter in front of the saleswoman.


    It landed there, giving the woman, and everyone else, a good look at it. The thing was shaped mostly like a monkey, a Capuchin monkey, to be exact. It was the right shape, the right size, had a tail, and so forth. However, the similarities ended there. The thing had no fur. It had scales instead, like a lizard. Its face and tail were decidedly lizard-like as well, though the latter retained the monkey tail¡¯s prehensile nature.


    The thing opened its mouth to reveal a large collection of sharp teeth, screeching in the woman¡¯s face as she cried out and stumbled backward.


    ¡°Good boy, Tuesday,¡± The girl praised while coming closer. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see how much fun shiny stuff you people can put in a bag for me in the next ninety seconds, huh? Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not that picky. Just throw it all in a bag and I¡¯ll be on my way.¡±


    Racing a shaking hand to point at the creature on the counter, the saleswoman whimpered out, ¡°W-what is that thing? Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Damn it!¡± the masked girl cursed, snapping her fingers. ¡°I knew you were going to ask that! But I still don¡¯t have a good name yet. It¡¯s surprisingly hard to come up with a good name, you know? One that hasn¡¯t been taken, one that isn¡¯t stupid, one that isn¡¯t going to get a bunch of lawyers sicced on me¡­ it¡¯s hard.¡±


    Shaking her head dismissively then, the girl added, ¡°And that¡¯s Tuesday. He¡¯s going to be keeping an eye on you. Just to make sure you¡¯re not tempted to do anything stupid. Just fill the bag with shinies and we¡¯ll be leaving. Nobody has to get hurt, and it¡¯s all insured anyway.¡±


    Spinning on her heel then, back toward the doorway where a man had been slowly edging, the girl raised a hand. ¡°And you don¡¯t wanna go that way! Twinkletoes? Show him why.¡±


    The almost invisible shape moved away from the wall. As it did so, the thing became visible, shedding its camouflage. Like Tuesday, it looked like a cross between a lizard and something much furrier. In this case, the combination appeared to be a chameleon and a gorilla. It had the same massive size and general shape of the latter, and the basic appearance, scales, and face of the former.


    The man who had been trying to leave stumbled back, cursing at the sight of it.


    ¡°Yup,¡± the unnamed girl chirped. ¡°As you can see, Twinkletoes is a pretty good bouncer. But he¡¯ll be nice as long as nobody makes a move for the door. Fair enough? Good, now about that bag of shinies¡­¡±


    ******


    A few minutes later, the masked girl ran through a nearby alley, laughing giddily with each step. ¡°Oh my God, how fun was that?!¡± She shook the bag full of jewelry and beamed while reaching up to take off the mask. Doing so revealed a dark-skinned girl with short hair that had been spiked up. Most of the hair was black, save for the tips, which had been dyed shocking white.


    Turning to Tuesday and Twinkletoes, who had been following her (the former riding on the latter), she grinned to them. ¡°Come on, boys, let¡¯s get your sister off lookout duty and¡ª¡±


    In mid-sentence, she was interrupted by a loud screech. The girl snapped her gaze up in time to see something fly down out of the sky, screeching once more before it landed on the edge of the nearby dumpster.


    It was another reptile combination. In this case, the thing looked like a bearded dragon lizard that had been crossed with a large golden eagle. The thing really shouldn¡¯t have been able to fly (particularly given the fact that only its wings seemed to have feathers), but managed to somehow. It landed on the dumpster and tilted its head curiously at the girl.


    ¡°Oh, there you are.¡± Smiling, the newly-unmasked thief reached out to rub the eagle-lizard¡¯s face. ¡°Hey there, Riddles. You ready to go home too?¡±


    ¡°Nice friends you¡¯ve got there,¡± an unexpected voice announced, causing both the girl and all three of her companions to whirl that way.


    The woman who stood there at the mouth of the alley was quite obviously Touched. Her costume consisted of sleek white pants with matching boots, a black turtleneck with a purple leather jacket over it, and a full head-covering white mask with dark purple lenses covering the eyes that matched the jacket. A silver briefcase sat beside her.


    ¡°Cardsharp?!¡± the girl blurted while Twinkletoes stepped in front of her with a growl at the woman. ¡°You¡¯re Cardsharp, from the¡­ like¡­ La Casa? What¡¯re you doing here?¡± Defensively, she added, ¡°You better not be trying to steal my haul.¡± By that point, Tuesday had hopped onto Twinkletoes¡¯ shoulder and was adding his own growl, while Riddles spread her wings to make herself bigger and gave a loud screech at the woman from where she was perched on the dumpster.


    ¡°Easy there,¡± Cardsharp murmured, spreading both hands with her palms out. ¡°I didn¡¯t come to fight or cause trouble. But ahhh, that store you just robbed back there? Yeah, it belongs to us. It¡¯s in our territory, and the owners pay a decent amount for protection from¡­ well¡­¡± She coughed and gestured to the bag from the store in question.


    Blinking down, then back up again, the girl narrowed her eyes. ¡°What, so you came to fight me for it? Came to teach me a lesson?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± The woman stared at her briefly before shaking her head. ¡°You¡¯ve been reading too many comic books. No. Like I said, I¡¯m not here to fight. First of all, here.¡± Reaching down, she picked up the briefcase that had been at her side. Unlatching it, she showed her the contents. Cash. It was full of cash. ¡°There should be the exact amount in here as what you would have gotten by selling that stuff, plus a couple thousand. You give back that bag and I¡¯ll give you this case.¡±


    The girl blinked again. ¡°So I rob places you¡¯re trying to protect and you just give me money to give it back?¡°


    Cardsharp chuckled. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t really be a sustainable business model, would it? No, this is a one time deal. If it purposefully happens again, then we¡¯ll have to take other, more unpleasant measures. But hopefully, that won¡¯t be an issue. Because I¡¯m not just offering you a cash payment. I am also offering you a place with our group, with La Casa. See, the boss believes in recruiting and nurturing new talent. And you¡­ well, you look uniquely talented. So take the case. With the cash, you¡¯ll find a card with a phone number on it. You decide to take me up on the offer, call that number and they¡¯ll talk you through coming in for an evaluation and training. But first¡­¡± She held her free hand out, gesturing for the bag to be thrown to her.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The girl considered briefly. Actually fighting sounded bad, considering what she knew about the woman in front of her. Basically, Cardsharp¡¯s powers allowed her to temporarily alter the physical properties of both herself and anything she was touching or had been touching within the past few seconds. She could make herself weigh almost nothing, or make herself weigh up to about a ton. She could also do the same for an object in her hands, reducing the weight of something by a huge amount, or increasing it. She could make herself extremely bouncy, or could throw a knife and give it the properties of a rubber ball so that it rebounded around a corner before returning its sharpness. Sticky, bouncy, sharp, heavy, light, she did absurd things to her own physical properties and that of the things she held.


    No one seemed to know if her unerring, perfect aim with anything she threw was a power, or just skill. Either way, it just added to how dangerous she was. Especially as she had a habit of making something incredibly light so she could throw it easily, then making it incredibly heavy right before impact.


    Yeah, she was a great big cheater, and while she seemed to only be able to alter the properties of one thing at a time (including herself), she was still a great pain in the ass for anyone who tried to fight her.


    So, after a brief hesitation, the girl tossed the bag that way before noting, ¡°This all sounds pretty official and stuff for some gang of thugs.¡±


    Cardsharp smiled easily. ¡°What can I say?


    ¡°That¡¯s just the kind of guy the boss is.¡±


    *******


    One week later


    ¡°The boss is kind of a weird freak,¡± the girl with the lizard creatures announced. She was wearing the same get-up, with the mask stuffed into a pocket. She was once more addressing Cardsharp, as the two of them stood in a long hallway in front of an unlabeled door. The girl held a cage that had been covered with a blanket in front of her self with both hands.


    ¡°Not that he really minds people thinking so,¡± her sponsor into this whole thing replied, ¡°but what makes you say that?¡±


    ¡°This,¡± the girl retorted, gesturing at the door in front of them. ¡°You seriously want me to go to some kind of school thing? I thought you saw what kind of badass I was and wanted me to jump on your team.¡±


    With a soft chuckle, Cardsharp shook her head. ¡°You¡¯ve got an intriguing power, one with a lot of potential. You¡¯ve got a lot of potential. But you also have no fucking clue what you¡¯re doing. That¡¯s not an insult. Most people don¡¯t have a fucking clue what they¡¯re doing when they start with all this. The boss knows that. It¡¯s why he set this place up. Everybody goes through training. Everybody. Doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re Touched or Prev.¡±


    Prev. That was short for Prevalent, the generally accepted word for ¡®normal humans without powers¡¯ or ¡®non-Touched.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t exactly insulting, and encompassed the idea that they were the majority while not calling them ¡®normal¡¯ as if there was something wrong with people who did have powers (a problem that just calling them human would also have had). The shortened form of ¡®Prevs¡¯ was also often seen as another way of saying ¡®Previouslies¡¯, as in ¡®humans before they had super powers.¡¯


    Cardsharp was continuing. ¡°There¡¯s different kinds of training depending on what you are, but everyone gets training of some kind. Think of it as a combination school and boot camp. You¡¯ll go through three months of this before you hit the field.¡±


    For a moment, the girl stared at her as though she had to be joking. ¡°Are you serious? Three months of training before I do anything on the streets?¡±


    The woman nodded once. ¡°That¡¯s the rules. It¡¯s what Blackjack insists on, and it works. Trust me, there¡¯s a reason our people are better than the other guys out there. We are better trained, we¡¯re better armed and equipped, and we know how to work together. Our squads train together, live together, and work together. Everyone matters, and that means no one is cannon fodder. Which means we¡¯re not going to send you out on those streets until you actually know what you¡¯re doing.


    ¡°So yes, three months of training. Take my word for it, it¡¯s worth it. You¡¯ll never have to go out there alone again. You¡¯ll be part of La Casa, The House. And we take care of our own. Or you can turn around and walk right back out of here, no hard feelings. But this is your only chance, there¡¯s no do-overs. You leave now, you¡¯ll never be invited again. And believe me, you¡¯ll make a hell of a lot more with us than out on your own.¡±


    For a second or two, the girl looked indecisive. She lowered her gaze to the covered cage in her hands, biting her lip before finally looking up. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re in.¡±


    Cardsharp gave her a thumbs up. ¡°Good choice. Now before we go in and meet your classmates, may I assume that you have your friends there? That means they can shrink down again?¡±


    The girl nodded. ¡°They go back and forth. All I have to do is think about it and they¡¯ll change back.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Cardsharp replied with a thumbs up. ¡°Now I know their names are Tuesday, Riddles, and Twinkletoes, and that you haven¡¯t chosen a Touched name. But what should we call you?¡±


    There was one more brief pause before she answered. ¡°Danielle Kalvers.


    ¡°Call me Dani.¡±


    ******


    Present Day


    ¡°Dani!¡±


    The blurted cry came from Dani¡¯s left as the black girl stepped out of the building that had been her home for the past three months. Turning there on the sidewalk, she barely had time to open her mouth before she was suddenly caught up in a tight hug by a girl several inches shorter than her own five foot five.


    It was KD. The super enthusiastic girl was barely over five feet, with pale skin and bright blue hair fashioned into pigtails. She wore sunglasses with little yellow smiley faces on the lenses.


    ¡°Oof,¡± Dani muttered, ¡°hey, KD.¡±


    Bouncing up and down a little, the other girl finally stepped back, grinning broadly. ¡°Can you believe it? We¡¯re graduating! We¡¯re gonna be real supervillains!¡± She gave an excited squeal then, spinning all the way around on one foot.


    Dryly, Dani replied, ¡°I think you might have a little further to go on the whole villain thing.¡±


    KD stuck her tongue out while retorting something incomprehensible. Then she tried again, this time without her tongue out. ¡°Don¡¯t be a grump. It¡¯s time to celebrate! And hey, I even¡­¡± As she spoke, the girl pulled off the backpack she was wearing and reached inside. ¡°¡­got you a present!¡±


    With that announcement, she pulled out a smaller cage with a wide-eyed little lizard in it. ¡°Ta da! It¡¯s a crocodile skink. I wanted to get you a real crocodile, but, you know, not allowed to go do villain things like rob the zoo until after graduation. Do you like her?¡±


    Staring open mouthed, Dani slowly reached out to take the cage, lifting it up so she could see the skink better. ¡°Oh my God, KD, you didn¡¯t have to do that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re my friend,¡± KD replied. ¡°Besides, I haven¡¯t gotten to see you do it with a new one yet. I wasn¡¯t here when you got Mars Bar. Can I see you do it this time? Huh, huh?¡±


    Smirking despite herself at her friend¡¯s excitement, Dani nodded while turning to walk back behind the building. ¡°Sure, come on.¡±


    The complex they were staying at was miles outside of Detroit proper. To the outside world, it was some kind of religious camp or whatever. Dani wasn¡¯t sure. The point was, it was walled off and required about a half hour drive along a rocky dirt road to reach. There were a handful of buildings out here and a garage full of vehicles. The place really was like a whole university or something.


    Together, she and KD walked past a group of people training to be La Casa foot soldiers, moving to a more private spot behind the academics building they had just left.


    As Dani reached into the cage to take out the skink, KD asked, ¡°So how does it work? I mean, I know you can only choose one other animal to combine them with, and that¡¯s the only other form they get, but how do you choose?¡±


    Clearing her throat, Dani started, ¡°First, she needs a name.¡± Holding the skink carefully, she considered for a moment before pronouncing, ¡°Holiday. Her name is Holiday.¡±


    ¡°Cuz she¡¯s a present!¡± KD blurted with a wide smile. ¡°I get it. Okay, so¡­¡±


    ¡°So now,¡± Dani finished for her, ¡°I focus on thinking really hard about the animal I want to combine her with.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± KD recited, ¡°Twinkletoes is a chameleon combined with a gorilla. Tuesday is a gecko combined with a monkey. Riddles is a bearded dragon combined with an eagle. And Mars Bar is an iguana crossed with a grizzly bear. Which is really freaking scary, for the record. What do you need next?¡±


    Dani considered that. Monkey, gorilla, eagle, and bear. What did she need? ¡°Something big enough to take care of itself, but faster than Twinkletoes or Mars Bar. Like a wolf. Or¡­¡± Her smile brightened. ¡°Or a panther.¡±


    Kneeling down on the ground, she set the newly dubbed Holiday in front of herself before putting two fingers on the lizard¡¯s back. As she focused, the skink suddenly went very still, eyes closing as both girl and lizard fell into a kind of trance.


    Almost ten minutes passed that way before Dani opened her eyes. As she did so, the girl found herself facing a much different skink.


    As she¡¯d wanted, the skink was now combined with a panther. It looked like a cross between the two animals, a reptilian hunting cat without any fur. To many it probably would have looked horrifying and dangerous. But Dani immediately hugged her new friend. ¡°Holiday!¡±


    KD came in for a hug with both of them as well, proclaiming, ¡°That was awesome! I mean, not much happened at first, but then she started growing, and you were all whispering stuff, and then she was growing some more, and then you were both making noises, and then poof! Here she is.¡±


    Rubbing the top of Holiday¡¯s head for a moment, Dani smiled. ¡°Come on, girl.¡± With a thought, she shifted the creature back into her small lizard form. It took about ten seconds for the panther-reptile to fully shift and shrink back down into her ordinary skink form. Once she had, Dani reach down and picked her up. ¡°Let¡¯s go meet your brothers and sister.¡±


    Before they could go anywhere, however, a figure stepped into view. It was Elarc Sorn, one of their combat instructors.


    ¡°Girls,¡± he announced, ¡°Time to pack your things. It¡¯s all hands on deck.


    ¡°La Casa¡¯s about to go to war.¡±

 Interlude 3B - Deicide

    Three Years Ago


    Her name was Austen. Not her last name. Her last name was Deleon. Austen Deleon. Yeah.


    The girl¡¯s mother had named her in honor of Jane Austen, her favorite author. When asked why she hadn¡¯t simply named her daughter Jane in that case, or Jane Austen Deleon, she had simply replied that Jane was such a common name, it wouldn¡¯t draw any attention. A girl named Austen, however, that would grab people¡¯s interest. No one would forget a girl named Austen.


    The then-infant¡¯s opinion on the subject of such attention was not consulted.


    There was also no input on a name from the father, as he had been some guy who made a lot of promises, got her mother pregnant, and then took off. He¡¯d abandoned them before she was even born.


    Growing up in the streets of Detroit, Austen had split most of her time between holing up in the library where she could lose herself in the worlds of her favorite authors (of whom Jane Austen was decidedly not one), and running scam and con games on unsuspecting tourists and people new to the city. Very few suspected that the brown-eyed, dark-haired, innocent-looking little angel child was going to take the money they handed her for a tour or photograph and take off with it. Fewer suspected any of her more involved and complicated cons.


    Indeed, from the age of six to eleven, Austen had racked up both quite a reputation as a con artist, thief, pickpocket, etcetera, and quite the haul of loot to go with it. She hardly ever spent any of the money she managed to get out of people, preferring to hide it in her ¡®safe place.¡¯ It was intended as a college fund, because Austen had every intention of going to university, even if she had to save up enough money to flat-out pay her way in.


    Unfortunately, it was when she was eleven that Austen¡¯s mother found Jesus. Literally, in her case, as a man who called himself Jesus The Saint managed to hook Laia and many other poor, desperate people from the Detroit streets, convincing them that he was truly the man himself reborn. Laia had taken her daughter with her as they joined Jesus and the rest of the ¡®flock¡¯ in his compound almost fifty miles away from the city where Austen had grown up.


    For two years, Austen had lived in that hellhole. The Church of the Lamb, as ¡®Jesus¡¯ called his cult, did not allow any contact with the outside world, or nearly any technology in general. Even so much as a flashlight or digital watch was forbidden. Punishments were plentiful, in the name of ¡®making the flock worthy¡¯, and multiple hours per day were devoted toward studying both the scriptures as well as Jesus¡¯s own (often rambling and barely coherent) writings on subjects ranging from the uncountable sins of the world all the way down to his opinion of various sports teams. Included, of course, were the list of celebrities and historical figures who were going to hell, though the list might as well have simply said ¡®all of them.¡¯


    It was, in short, a thoroughly exhausting and demoralizing place to spend any time at all, let alone two years of one¡¯s life in the midst of being a teenager.


    Now, at the age of thirteen, Austen sat in what was called the ¡®Cusp of Hell.¡¯ It was, in short, a box about six feet high, and three feet in every other direction that sat in the middle of the courtyard of the compound. Heat lamps were arranged around the box to raise the temperature to near-unlivable conditions, and those who were being punished were left inside, often long enough to nearly kill them.


    Authorities had come to check on the conditions here a number of times. None ever amounted to anything good, either because they were straight-up paid off (she had seen that happen with her own eyes), or, in some cases, because they were ¡®gifted¡¯ with an evening of entertainment by one of the flock. Her mother had been used that way several times, always rambling on about what a gift and pleasure it was to serve her divine purpose for the Lord. Even Austen herself had been eyed, young as she was. But Jesus held off, saying that she would not be ¡®ripe¡¯ until the age of fourteen. One more year.


    She didn¡¯t plan on being here at that point.


    Austen had spent more time in the Cusp of Hell than anyone else in the flock, a fact that brought her mother untold shame. Not that the girl herself cared. Well, not that much. Seeing the way her mother looked at her did hurt, but she had long since given up any hope of snapping the woman out of the absurd spell that Jesus had cast over her. She loved her mother, but she had not liked her in a very long time.


    This current stint in the box was a result of being caught listening to music. Austen had found an old MP3 player and headphones, and had been listening to it while pulling weeds in the garden. For such horror as deliberately subjecting the ears of her immortal soul to the devil¡¯s tongue (as Jesus called all music that was not religious hymns), she had been thoroughly flogged and then tossed here into the box where she was left for hours. Once in awhile, a small cup of water was brought by one of the ¡®holy sisters.¡¯ It was just enough to keep her alive.


    Lying on her side, curled up as she couldn¡¯t lie flat out within the three foot space, Austen stared at the dirt ground in front of her. The box had glass windows in it that could be opened or closed, but at the moment they were shut. She was left in blistering hot darkness, with no idea of what time it was or how long she had been here. The ache in her body from the crack of Jesus¡¯ rod had finally dulled somewhat, only flaring up if she moved too quickly. Which wasn¡¯t a problem inside the box, small and unintended mercy though that may have been.


    She was hungry. She had been hungry for quite awhile, and now it was almost excruciating. Her stomach hurt, as she clutched it with one hand, mind drifting back to better times. Times before her mother had met this psycho and fallen under his sway. She had long-since stopped asking herself how her mother could allow this to happen. Any answer that came was never satisfying.


    Light appeared. Which, given the fact that the box was still very much closed, was rather unexpected. With a gasp of confusion, the girl¡¯s eyes opened as she snapped upright, staring at the source of the sudden illumination.


    It was a glowing orb, slightly bigger than a softball. The orb, and the light it cast, was blue with white hieroglyphic-like symbols alternately appearing and disappearing across its surface.


    For a moment, the girl simply sat there, staring in rapt fascination at the orb. It drew her like a moth to flame, as her hand very slowly rose toward it. She hesitated briefly like that, with her hand right near the thing. Then she moved it the last inch or so, settling her palm against the warm surface.


    She saw the empty, featureless world that lay within or beyond the orb. She walked through the deep, foreboding fog and saw the images drawn from her own life within it. She saw her mother, the people she had conned, the other cultists, and Jesus himself, his long black beard and heavily tanned skin filling the last fog-born image as his hand with the cane lashed out one last time to send a jolt of pain across her back before she had been thrown into the box.


    ¡°Summus Proelium.¡±


    She heard the phrase in a soft, feminine voice. Those two simple words filled her mind, seeming to echo through it even as the fog world vanished, and Austen found herself back in the box.


    ~~~233-044-2121~~~


    ~~~Eggs, butter, ramen, bread~~~


    ~~~Let all who live in the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming. It is close at hand¡ª a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and blackness. Like dawn spreading across the mountains, a large and mighty army comes,such as never was in ancient times nor ever will be in ages to come. And in these words, we may look for what will descend upon this people: For as surely as the men who dwell upon it shall suffer for the sins of those who~~~


    More and more words filled the girl¡¯s mind. She didn¡¯t hear them or see them. She simply knew them. Those words and more came flooding into her as if she had always known them, as if she was remembering them. Those and more kept coming. Hymns, bible verses, scrawled speeches with words crossed out, phone numbers, lists, more and more. It was almost too much, and she put both hands to her head, crying out, ¡°Stop!¡±


    It stopped. The flood of words halted. But something else remained. It was a¡­ sense. She could feel¡­ something. Some things. She could feel things beyond her sight. Things where the words were. She could feel them, could sense the shape of them. Lots of them. One actually quite close, right outside the¨C


    With a loud clang, the lock on the box was released, and the door was opened. One of the holy sisters stood there, bible in hand while staring at Austen with a look of severe disapproval. Her tone was sharp. ¡°The savior will see you now, young sinner. Come, and pray to him.¡±


    Austen didn¡¯t move. Her attention remained riveted to the book in the woman¡¯s hand. She could¡­ feel it. She could sense the shape of it even if she closed her eyes. It was almost, though not quite, like having it in her hands. At a thought, the words within the bible sprang to mind, almost-but-not-quite like remembering them. She could have remembered a lot of it anyway, after the past couple of years. But this wasn¡¯t that. The words written within the book were filling her mind, and she would have known them even if she had never read it before.


    ¡°Ah,¡± the woman smirked while holding the bible. ¡°You see the good book, yes? To stare upon it with such reverence, perhaps your time within the Cusp of Hell has awakened your spirit. You thirst for¨C¡±


    With a thought, Austen lifted her chin. The book abruptly tore itself from the woman¡¯s grasp, flying up to smack her in the chin hard enough to snap her mouth shut in mid-sentence. Even as the woman reeled backward from that, Austen gave a sharp gesture with one hand, and the book obeyed her unspoken wish, smacking the woman across the face hard enough to crack her jaw and send her to the floor with a loud cry of pain.


    Two more sisters and a brother came running at the sound of the cry. They came into the main courtyard, the women empty-handed while the man held a rake from the work he had been doing. First, they stared at the woman on the ground, and at Austen standing over her. Then, their gazes moved up to take in the bible floating in the air. Seeing that, the two women immediately began to pray aloud. The man, meanwhile, blurted something about the devil and raced straight for Austen, swinging the rake like a club.


    A thought, an urge, an impulse filled the girl¡¯s mind. In response, the floating bible tore itself apart. Hundreds of separate pages flooded the air, glowing slightly before a handful went flying at the charging man. Six pages, glowing brightly, sliced straight through various parts of the rake that he was swinging, making it fall apart into useless pieces.


    Still, he kept coming, swinging his fist rather than his abandoned bits of wood. With a scream that was half-meaningless word and half-prayer, he swung hard for the girl¡¯s face.


    A single piece of paper, a single page torn from the bible, flew into his path. It stopped there, and as his fist collided with it, the man might as well have been punching a solid steel wall. The bones of his hand shattered, and he screamed in pain while collapsing to his knees.


    Seeing the women fall to their knees and pray while the man simply cradled his ruined hand and sobbed, Austen slowly stepped past them all. The pages of the bible flew behind her, then arranged themselves on all sides of the girl as if forming an honor guard as she walked from the courtyard to the door of the main building.


    It was locked, as part of Jesus¡¯s rules were that all buildings were to be locked at all times. That way, only people allowed keys of each building could freely go in and out, while others would have to ask permission. It was part of his standard power play, and a way of reminding his flock that they were dependent on those above them. Only he held all of the keys, of course.


    Austen didn¡¯t ask permission. Instead, she focused. Beyond the doors, she could feel paper, loose pages, entire books spread throughout the building. With a single thought, she could not only feel every piece of paper in the place, she knew everything that was written on it. Passwords, little notes, lists, the entire plot of books flooded into her mind. Now that she knew it was coming, she could sort through it, could let the flow of information simply cascade past her into a pool at her feet. If she wanted, the girl could reach down to take from the pool, lifting out any information she needed. Otherwise, it was simply memories in the background of her mind.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Instead, she focused on the papers and books themselves. At a thought, she could feel hundreds of them leap from the shelves, desks, even ripping their way from the pockets they were held in. They flew through the air, colliding with one another. She could feel them crash through no-doubt confused onlookers, jerking free of any attempts to hold them as they soared through the halls toward the front of the building where she stood.


    Stepping out of the way at the last second, Austen allowed the tornado of books and papers to slam into the doors from the other side. The doors didn¡¯t simply slam open, they were literally torn from their hinges and sent flying as the glowing bibles, hymnals, novels, notebooks, and even loose bits of paper crashed in and through them. Beyond, Austen could see the main foyer of the ¡®church¡¯, where people had gathered to stare in shock and fear. As a collection of prayers against evil filled the air, she crossed the threshold, stepping into the front area with the books and papers still fluttering around her.


    ¡°De-demon! Devil¡¯s whore!¡± one of the men shouted at the thirteen-year-old girl who stood there. He brandished a metal fireplace poker he had grabbed from somewhere and ran for her, blurting a prayer and a curse almost simultaneously.


    Thousands of pieces of paper tore their way free of the dozens of books, flying to join up with more loose pages. In an instant, the papers formed into what looked like a six foot long origami tiger. It collided with the man in mid-lunge, taking him to the ground.


    At the same time, more bits of paper cut and folded themselves into the shape of a single word, each letter roughly a foot and a half in height. The single word was, in all capital letters, ¡®ROAR.¡¯ And it did. The word glowed brightly as the sound of a terrifying roar actually filled the entire front area, echoing throughout the building.


    With the man who had tried to attack her pinned to the ground and currently sobbing, Austen turned her attention to the rest of the group who were (most unknowingly as they were simply staring in shock and confusion) blocking her way forward. The ¡®ROAR¡¯¡¯ tore itself apart, more papers flying in to join those ones as they formed the word ¡®MOVE.¡¯ Once again, at a thought, the sound of a booming voice saying that single word filled the front area. It was the voice of thunder, and all obeyed, scrambling out of her path as Austen continued on. The paper tiger gave one last dirty look toward the man it had taken to the ground before trotting after her.


    On through the church the girl marched. Most who moved to intercede were scared off by the tiger. Others were knocked aside by flying books, pinned to the wall or literally bludgeoned into unconsciousness. A general alarm had been raised, but no one seemed to know exactly what was happening, aside from the cries of ¡®demon¡¯ and such.


    Finally, she reached the doors that led into the office of the man who called himself Jesus. Taking a breath, Austen pointed. Obediently, six different books slammed into each door, knocking them open and allowing her to step through.


    He was there. Standing behind his desk with a pistol pointed at her head, the cult leader demanded in a booming voice of his own, ¡°Stand down, demonspawn! Release your hold on this child and begone from this realm. You are so commanded by the Father and the Son, the God of this world in mortal flesh come once again. Flee to the hells from whence ye came!¡±


    Without waiting for a response, he pulled the trigger, shooting at the girl who stood in his doorway. But Austen was expecting that. She knew him. A piece of paper had already moved to intercede, glowing in the process. That single sheet, torn from a notebook, floated between them as the bullet rebounded. The ricochet narrowly missed the man himself, embedding itself in the nearby wall.


    ¡°Hi, Jesus,¡± Austen started, almost conversationally. ¡°That wasn¡¯t very Good Samaritan of you.¡±


    The man fired again, lower this time. But again, papers had already moved between them. That ricochet did hit him, glancing off his shoulder and drawing a cry of shocked pain from the man as he stumbled backward while rambling about how she had given herself to the devil.


    ¡°This is your book?¡± As she spoke, Austen made one of the bibles float up into the air in front of herself. At a thought, all of the pages tore themselves free. Over a thousand bits of paper filled the air. With a flurry of tearing and folding sounds each joined with several others to shape themselves into small daggers. In the end, over a hundred of those paper knives floated there.


    ¡°If this is your book,¡± the girl continued, while the psycho cult leader who called himself Jesus fired several more desperate shots, all of which were blocked, ¡°you should take it back.¡±


    With those words, and a single urge, she sent every paper dagger, more than a hundred, flying at the man. He screamed, threw the gun, tried to dodge, all to no avail. From his head to his feet, the man was struck through by glowing paper knives. In the end, he fell, his body filled with the very pages of the book he delusionally claimed to have been such a key part of.


    It should have been harder. It should have hit her more. He was dead. He was dead¡­ because of her. She murdered someone. It should have made her cry, shouldn¡¯t it? Even as bad as he was, it should have meant¡­ more.


    It didn¡¯t. Seeing his body there, thinking about what he had done to her mother¡¯s mind and to the minds of everyone here, thinking about how he used them and would have used her, about how she had been struck, imprisoned, enslaved over these past two years, Austen felt nothing for the man.


    Was she a sociopath too?


    Turning on her heel, the thirteen-year old girl stepped from the room. Her mother was there, staring open-mouthed. ¡°Austen¡­¡± she whispered in a barely audible voice full of despair and horror. ¡°What¡­ what did you do?¡±


    Lifting her chin, the girl replied simply, ¡°What did I do, Mom?


    ¡°I killed God.¡±


    *******


    Three months later.


    The street gangs were meeting. Well, those who hadn¡¯t already been destroyed to the point of nonexistence, absorbed by one of the larger gangs, or, in the case of Latinos, taken in by Oscuro. Their new leader, Cu¨¦lebre, had made a point of expanding the formerly small group exponentially, exploding its growth and power faster than anyone could react. And now, the smaller gangs were left scrambling, struggling to even survive, let alone thrive, against the might of Cu¨¦lebre.


    So, they were meeting here in this abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town in a desperate, probably pointless attempt to come to terms with an alliance. For two hours, the leaders of the eight gangs who had survived to this point bickered about who would lead them, what the terms would be, who would own what territory, and how they would stand against Oscuro.


    It was in the midst of these loud, shouted arguments that Austen strode. But not as herself. Over the past month, she had grown to understand more of her power. Currently, her body was literally covered by thousands upon thousands of bits of paper. Pages torn from novels, from journals, from phone and text books, and more surrounded her. They had formed into the shape of a suit of feminine armor, complete with a bust that the thirteen-year-old could only wish she would someday have. Beyond that, the armor also made her look taller than she actually was. Her actual feet ended somewhere above the armor¡¯s knees, while her hands fell much short of the supposed gloves. Her head was covered by more paper in the shape of a stylized medieval helmet, and she carried an enormous paper sword across her back.


    The much smaller young girl essentially piloted the suit of paper armor shaped in the form of an adult female knight.


    As she came into view, the eight gang leaders and their assorted entourage spun toward her. Mr. Harmful, leader of the Fifth Street Broodwalkers alongside his sort-of conjoined twin Uncle Friendly, snapped his hand out her way. It grew to the size of a large dresser to slap her out of the way while the man snapped, ¡°Who¡¯re you supposed to be, Captain Library?¡± Around him, the other leaders were readying their own gifts, while others produced guns. Lots of guns.


    Seeing the attacks coming, Austen simply braced herself. The blow from Mr. Harmful¡¯s giant fist struck her side¡­ and stopped. Her paper armor glowed, as she focused simply on not moving. The paper went exactly where she wanted it to, and did not go when she didn¡¯t want it to. It stayed in place, taking the blow as if it was a gentle tap.


    A glowing energy harpoon, along with a dozen bullets, a simple laser, and two concussive bolts of force, struck her. None penetrated her paper armor. None so much as left a single mark.


    Still not speaking a single word, Austen drew the giant sword from her back. Sweeping it across the room in a sharp gesture. In reality, she was simply commanding all the bits of paper to move to make it look as though she had drawn and swung the weapon. As she did so, dozens of pages flew from the sword.


    Before the men knew what was happening, the papers had wrapped around their necks, around their wrists, and around their ankles. Each of the men, leaders and lackeys alike, were ripped from the ground and suspended above it while their airways were constricted by the glowing pages surrounding and constricting their throats.


    This was the best way to open. Making a big show. Demonstrating her strength. Austen had spent the past several months planning her entrance, practicing with her power, and most of all, absorbing books. She walked through libraries, through colleges, through military surplus stores, law schools, everywhere there were books. She had absorbed knowledge of strategy, tactics, diplomacy, laws, and every bit of detail of the past near-twenty years of Touched activity. Later, she would prove to these people that she could guide them.


    Right now, she had to prove that she could crush them. Or they would never listen long enough to get to the part that was good for them.


    And they would obviously never listen to a child. Hence this disguise. Which was also why she didn¡¯t speak. Instead, several books flew up along either side of her. Each book opened to a different page, as words on that page glowed, and were read aloud by a booming feminine voice.


    ¡°This meeting was to determine how you would survive against the one who calls himself Cu¨¦lebre.¡± She had prepared for that one, bringing along a book of mythology to have the name ready.


    More pages flipped, more words were highlighted, as the voice continued. ¡°You want to know which of you stands a chance against him. The answer is none of you. If you try to stand against him and his people, they will crush you.¡±


    She loosened the grip of the paper around their throats enough for one of the gang leaders to demand, ¡°And what, you think you can do better so you¡¯re just gonna march in here and demand we all kiss the ring? We don¡¯t even know you, bitch.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Austen made the books say, ¡°You don¡¯t know me. But no. I don¡¯t expect you to put me in charge. I expect you to allow me to help you.¡±


    With that, she let all of them go, bringing the dozens of pages back to float at her side. ¡°Give me one month to prove that I can help you outmaneuver Oscuro and stop Cu¨¦lebre from killing you all.¡± Her head turned toward one of the other gang leaders, the electricity manipulator and super-strong man known as Juice. ¡°Your territory is on the front lines of this war. Give me one month with your men to prove I can help you. When I do, you will sponsor my leadership of this alliance. And then you can all stop arguing about which of you should be in charge.¡±


    Juice, a heavy-set black man, lifted his chin. ¡°Oh, you think so, huh? Well, tell you what. How about we just go ahead and throw you out there to fight Oscuro, then laugh when your paper-ass gets lit up?¡± He lifted his chin. ¡°Whatchoo call yourself anyway?¡±


    ¡°If I fail,¡± Austen replied through her collection of books, ¡°it will be of no great loss to you. As for my name, what can kill a god but knowledge? What is knowledge but words? And what is the word for the death of a god?¡±


    ¡°Deicide,¡± one of the assembled group slowly answered, looking dubious.


    ¡°Yes,¡± her assortment of papers confirmed, ¡°that is the word. But you need not use it until I have proven that it¡¯s apt. For the moment, simply calling me Papercut will do. I will earn the name, as I will earn your loyalty and trust. But now, I believe the time for discussion is over. Oscuro knows of your meeting here. Your territory, Juice, is about to be under assault. If you¡¯d like to stop it, we and your men should go now.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Juice demanded, ¡°how the hell do you know that?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ll know in time,¡± she replied. ¡°But for now, the clock is ticking. Would you rather discuss it, or protect what is yours?¡±


    The man only hesitated slightly before turning on his heel, whistling for his men to follow as he made for the exit.


    There was, of course, no way that Austen would even tell the men the truth about how she knew the attack was coming. There was no way she would tell them what she had also spent the past three months doing, just as there was no way she could reveal her actual self to them. Because seeing her, they would see that she was Latina. They would see that she could have been taken by Oscuro herself.


    And she had been. For the past two months, Austen had worked for the Oscuro gang as a simple street runner, pick pocket, con artist, thief, and anything else she could do. She had made herself useful, though she kept her powers completely secret. As far as everyone in Oscuro knew, she was nothing more than a helpful little kid. It allowed her to see and hear things she shouldn¡¯t, such as what was going to happen tonight.


    Two months spent doing that. The first of the past three had been spent searching for her father, for the man who had conned her mother into loving him, got her pregnant, then abandoned them. She had a general idea of the kind of trouble he¡¯d gotten back then, including one specific vandalism incident. Absorbing police files, personal notes, information from the college her mother had been attending at the time, and more, and she had actually accomplished her goal. She had found the one responsible for her birth and for putting the first crack in her mother¡¯s soul that eventually led to what she became.


    And in time, the man who now called himself Cu¨¦lebre would pay for all of it.

 Pursuit 4-01

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re really lucky you don¡¯t have any actual responsibilities,¡± my brother announced the next afternoon as the two of us stood on one of the balconies overlooking our massive grounds behind the house. The place was basically too big to even see all of from where we were standing. Our property extended off over the hill and down into a small forested area with a stream running through it. Let¡¯s just say that when I had read the Harry Potter books, I basically pictured the grounds as my own backyard. Actually, the school itself wasn¡¯t that far off from my house, come to think of it. Which probably gave me a somewhat different view of good old Harry¡¯s upgrade from cupboard to castle than most people had.


    Glancing sidelong toward Simon, I resisted the urge to punch him, though it was close. ¡°I have responsibilities,¡± I informed him stiffly.


    Like finding those stolen vials for Blackjack before his daughter dies and he takes his grief out on the entire city, I added silently.


    Yeah, that new little responsibility had been weighing on me all night long, ever since the La Casa leader had his men drive me back into the city. I got them to let me out in the back lot of one of the public libraries, since that wouldn¡¯t give them any indication of who I was. Then I¡¯d spent a solid half hour making sure I wasn¡¯t being followed and that there were no tracking devices on me (as far as I could tell). In the latter case, I didn¡¯t actually trust my own ability to find any minute trackers that might have been placed on me, so I had gone as far as dunking my entire body in a fountain (after taking out my voice changer of course) to soak myself and hopefully drown any electronics that might have been placed before finally heading home (soaking wet and cold) to crash. It might not have been necessary, but I was paranoid.


    Then I¡¯d tossed and turned for hours before finally getting to sleep. It was a good thing today was Sunday.


    Simon just chuckled at me. ¡°Oh, of course, make sure you get to class on time, do some homework, such hard responsibilities. How do you ever manage to keep up with it all?¡±


    There was so much I could have said to him right then that would have blown his mind. It almost felt like it would¡¯ve been worth it. But I bit back the initial retort that came to mind, settling on just shrugging at him. ¡°Everyone¡¯s got their own stuff.¡±


    Somehow, I was pretty sure that asking him if ordering people to be murdered and working out deals with the Easy Eight gangs were the extent of his responsibilities or if there were more I should know about wouldn¡¯t go over that well. But it still would¡¯ve been funny to see his face. For a few seconds anyway.


    Giving me a little push with his elbow, Simon laughed. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m just giving you shit, Booster. It¡¯s good that you don¡¯t have to deal with too much. You¡¯re gonna have to worry about enough stuff when you get older. No reason to be in a rush. Be happy you¡¯re still¡­¡±


    He paused then, looking very briefly troubled, a short expression of uncertainty crossing his face. Even if I hadn¡¯t known at least some of the truth, that would have stood out. He looked, maybe not sad, but at least¡­ somewhat regretful? Maybe scared. Or lost. Or like someone who was in way over their head. Or all of the above. Either way, it flashed across his face for just a moment.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I found myself asking. Not that I actually expected him to open up with the truth, but I was curious about what he might actually say. Especially in that moment where he looked somewhat vulnerable.


    He didn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, Simon just turned to look out over the grounds. His lips pursed a bit and he reached out to set a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. And for just the slightest instant, I had the absurdly paranoid thought that he was going to shove me off the balcony. But of course, he just squeezed my shoulder and replied, ¡°Sure, I¡¯m fine. Why wouldn¡¯t I be? We live a charmed life, you know? Everything¡¯s just fine and peachy keen.¡±


    Hesitating slightly, I looked up to him. ¡°Simon, you know if there¡¯s something you want to talk about¡­ we can¡ª¡±


    His fist hit my shoulder, just enough to sting. ¡°Told you¡± he retorted, ¡°it¡¯s fine. I¡¯m fine. Don¡¯t be such a little girl.¡±


    ¡°I could stand on stilts if you want me to stop being so little,¡± I offered. ¡°But I kind of like the girl part, so you¡¯re stuck with that.¡± Lowering my voice, I added as masculinely as possible, ¡°I could pretend for a little bit if it makes you feel better.¡±


    The saddest thing about all of this was that it was only with Simon that I could feel comfortable making these kind of jokes. Most of the time I was so busy making sure people knew I actually was a girl that I¡¯d never say something like that.


    Or maybe pretending to be a boy in costume was making me more comfortable with it too. Either way, I felt a brief wave of incredible depression at the thought that one of the only people in the world whom I felt comfortable with joking about looking like a boy with was only unaware that I was the one he had nearly had killed because he thought I was a boy. There was some kind of joke in there somewhere, but I didn¡¯t feel like finding it. This just sucked.


    Apparently it was my turn for something to show on my face, because Simon looked to me and frowned. ¡°Are you okay? You look like someone just bought you a puppy and then strangled it in front of you.¡±


    Grimacing, I shot a look at him. ¡°Morbid. Too morbid.¡±


    Before I could actually answer his question, however, the sliding glass door opened and we both looked back to see Mom stepping through. She smiled beautifully at us, a radiant expression that immediately made me feel loved and protected. Damn, she was good.


    ¡°I do enjoy seeing my children spending time together without being shamed into it,¡± Mom announced lightly, leaning in to give Simon a quick peck on the cheek before whispering something in his ear that took a few seconds to get through. She leaned back then, giving him a nod of what looked like encouragement before gesturing. ¡°Before dinner, please.¡±


    Giving me a brief glance, Simon nodded. ¡°Yeah,¡± he grunted, ¡°I¡¯ll get right on that. He turned then, heading back into the house without saying anything else to me.


    Even knowing that the best I would get was a lie, I turned to Mom and asked, ¡°What does Simon have to do?¡± Despite the odds against getting a real answer, it probably would have been weird if I didn¡¯t ask, after something like that.


    Sure enough, Mom just shook her head at me. ¡°Nothing for you to worry about, dear. Now come, let me look at my little Principessa.¡± She stepped closer, putting her hands on my shoulders while smiling down at me. Her gaze met mine and I felt like melting against her. She was my mom. I wanted to trust her so much. Everything in me was saying that I should just grab onto my mother and tell her everything. It was so hard not to. It took a physical effort to keep my face as blank as possible. It was hard. It was so damn hard.


    Mom held me like that for a few long seconds before leaning in to kiss my forehead. She ruffled my hair and then stepped back. ¡°Come, let¡¯s take a walk in the garden and talk.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Talk?¡± I echoed despite myself.


    She gave me an easy wink. ¡°Never fear, whatever personal secrets you have are safe. You¡¯re not in trouble. I only wish to speak with you about good things.¡±


    Reminding myself to act like a normal teenager, I quickly put in, ¡°Oh, you mean we¡¯re talking about the car I¡¯m getting when I pass Drivers Ed?¡±


    Mom just chuckled softly at me. ¡°That¡¯s your father¡¯s department, dear. Let¡¯s go.¡± With that, she turned to walk back inside. I followed, as I was expected to. She didn¡¯t even look back to see if I was, simply knowing that I would. That was the kind of power my mother held over everyone.


    We walked through the house, down the stairs, and out into the back yard. Mom led me to one of several elaborate flower gardens we had out there, and we began a stroll between the dazzling display of colors from all the blossoms.


    We had been walking in silence for a minute before my mother finally spoke up once more. ¡°You are sixteen years old now, Cassidy. You are nearly an adult. And that comes with additional privileges as well as responsibilities.¡± She glanced toward me then with a half smile. ¡°Some could be considered both privilege and responsibility.¡±


    My throat felt dry, a lump forming in it. What was this about? Was she going to tell me about the real family business? Was I about to be inducted into their criminal empire? Was she actually going to tell me the truth? How was I supposed to react? What was I supposed to do? Why were we out here in the garden?


    ¡°The Reformation Ball,¡± Mom announced, yanking my attention back to her.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I blurted, blankly. ¡°What about it?¡±  The Reformation Ball was some big wig party that the leaders of the city had been throwing alongside the rich and powerful movers and shakers for the past couple decades, ever since things in Detroit started to be turned around by the emergence of Touched. It was a huge deal, which all the most important people in the city attended, including the Star-Touched teams. All of them sent at least a representative. But that didn¡¯t have anything to do with me. I was too young to have anything to do with the¡ª Wait a minute.


    Mom must have seen the light bulb go on above my head, because she gave one nod. ¡°Yes, you are sixteen. Your father and I believe you are old enough to participate and be seen. We would like you to attend. It is next Saturday and your father would like to make a present out of a dress for you. You will have to attend a fitting Tuesday evening. May I count on your attendance?¡±


    My mind was reeling. I had just gone from thinking she might be opening up about all the bad things they were doing and how I should react to that, to being told that they thought I was adult enough to attend one of their most important dinner parties. How was I supposed to react? What was the appropriate level of excitement? Should I be excited? Should I be disappointed that I had to go to some party? I had completely lost all perspective or sense of balance.


    In the end, I covered it as best as I could, after standing there in silence for a few seconds, by stepping over to tightly hug my mother. Maybe she would think my silence was because I was too choked up to say anything?


    It seemed to work well enough, because Mom returned the embrace, brushing her hand up through my hair before holding my head against her chest as she murmured my name tenderly. That basically made me cry for real, and I clutched her tighter. God, why did this have to be so hard?


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± I finally managed quietly. I would. I had to be. If they were starting to open up to me a little, maybe I could find out more about what my family was really up to and how they were involved in the Fell-Touched scene.


    Also, I really wanted to know how they were going to pull off having both my father and Silversmith at this dinner.


    ******


    Of course, first there was a much more pressing problem I had to deal with. Namely, finding those vials. Which meant finding Ashton. There wasn¡¯t much time, and I didn¡¯t have much in the way of ideas. I had tracked the guy down once, but he was back in the wind. How was I supposed to find him again? Especially if, despite being driven from his first hideout, he still hadn¡¯t been found by one of the many, many people out beating the bushes for him.


    I had only one idea, and it involved going back to the place where I had found him in the first place. In my costume later that day, I found myself back in front of that building. Blackjack¡¯s men had definitely given it a thorough search after the cops who had been called to the disturbance had left, but they hadn¡¯t found anything as far as I knew. So what made me think I would have any better luck than they had?


    Blind optimism, mostly.


    I hopped over the fence once more and made my way around to the right window. Glancing around to make sure no one seemed to be watching, I used red paint to yank myself up to the window and slipped inside. There, I looked around the dining room. The place was a complete disaster area. Whatever the stun grenade thing hadn¡¯t destroyed, Blackjack¡¯s people (or maybe the cops) had finished off. Everything had been torn out of all the cupboards, the fridge, the drawers, all of it. Things were scattered everywhere in the kitchen, and moving beyond that, I saw that the rest of the place was no better. They had cut open chairs, ripped up the couch, slashed the mattress on both sides, all of it. They¡¯d torn apart the whole place. It looked as though a small tornado had struck the apartment, thanks to the men who had been looking for those vials.


    This was insane. How was I going to find anything in here that those guys had missed? But it was my only lead. It was the only chance I had, aside from just blindly wandering the streets while looking for this guy. And that didn¡¯t seem to be working very well for anyone else. No, this was what I had, and I needed to do something with it. Hence my one idea.


    Placing myself in the same position he had been standing in, I faced the spot where I had been before, when he triggered the blast. From there, I turned on one heel, pantomiming running to the door. There, I pulled it open and stepped into the hallway where the stairs were. Across the way was the door of the opposite apartment, and straight down the stairs I could see the front door. The door where he would have known Blackjack¡¯s men were coming. Would he really have risked running down the stairs where he could have been intercepted by someone who knew who he was? Did that really sound like the exit strategy of the guy who had pulled all this off so far? I didn¡¯t think so.


    Instead of going down the stairs, I stepped over to the next apartment and knocked. Waiting a moment, I knocked again when there was no answer. Finally, the door was pulled open and I saw a short, heavyset and balding man peek out. He stopped when he saw me, the chain on the door keeping it mostly shut. ¡°What are you supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± I answered simply before adding a blunt, ¡°Is he still here?¡±


    The man didn¡¯t try to play dumb. He sighed, lowering his gaze for a moment before shutting the door to take the chain off. Opening it once more, he gestured for me to enter. ¡°He left, pretty soon after those guys did. I¡ª listen, we don¡¯t want any part of this.¡± His voice was shaking a bit as he led me into the living room where a woman who was obviously his wife was sitting with a young girl, barely five at a guess, on her lap.


    The man waved off his wife from asking questions, looking at me. ¡°That guy came in here with a gun. He pointed it at my little girl, and he told us to be quiet. He told us to tell them that there was no one else here. So that¡¯s what we did. That¡¯s all we did. We kept quiet and we let him stay until those guys left. That¡¯s it. We¡¯re not involved in this.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± I assured him. ¡°I¡¯m not here to cause any trouble, I promise. But there¡¯s another little girl who is going to die if we don¡¯t find him. He¡¯s put her life in danger too, so I have to find him. Do you know anything else? Did he say anything while he was here about where he might be going? Anything at all?¡±


    The parents exchanged glances, before the woman looked to me, voice cracking. ¡°He said if we told the police or the La Casa people anything, he¡¯d come back and kill all of us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not the police,¡± I reminded them. ¡°And I don¡¯t work for La Casa. I just want to stop all of this and make sure no one else dies.¡±


    They exchanged another look before the father reached out, picked up a phone from the hook, and tossed it to me. ¡°He made a phone call. We didn¡¯t hear what he said, but it was a long conversation. Sounded pretty intense. It was the third to last call on there.¡±


    Catching the phone, I checked through the outgoing call section, finding the right number. Then I took my own cell phone, the cheap throwaway one I had picked up, and put the number into that before hitting send. I wasn¡¯t going to make the call from their number again.


    It took three rings before a gruff voice answered, ¡°Wren¡¯s Nest Pawn. Hello?¡±


    Thinking quickly, I asked, ¡°Yeah, could I get a large pepperoni with extra cheese and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± the man on the other end interrupted, ¡°electronics shop, not pizza. You¡¯ve got the wrong number.¡± That was followed by a click as the man disconnected the call, hanging up on me.


    Looking down at my phone, I smiled to myself behind the helmet. Wren¡¯s Nest Pawn, huh?


    I officially had another lead.

 Pursuit 4-02

    It was probably a good thing that family dinner night meant I couldn¡¯t run out right then to check out my new lead, because there was a decision I had to make. Mostly about whether I should go there as myself or in costume. I wasn¡¯t sure which would be better. If I went as myself it would be more subtle and I could just look around a little bit before possibly going back later as Paintball.


    On the other hand, if this place really was working with Ashton, going as myself might be dangerous, even if they were a shop of some kind. Or maybe they would somehow recognize me later from my height and build as the person who was just in there asking questions? I wasn¡¯t sure. I was pretty much winging all of this.


    So, I thought about it through all of the time leading up to dinner, and most of the way through that, before finally deciding to go with going as myself to start. Leaving the house, I summoned an Uber (that time it wasn¡¯t Adrian, obviously) and had it drop me off a few blocks away from the address I¡¯d found when I looked up this place online.


    And now I was here. With my costume in my backpack, which was slung over one shoulder, I stood in front of a three-story brick building nestled between an ice cream shop and a pet store. This place didn¡¯t really look like anything, aside from a small wooden sign hanging just above the glass door reading, ¡®Wren¡¯s Nest.¡¯


    Well, this was definitely the place. Ashton had called these people right after he barely escaped being caught by Blackjack¡¯s men. Now I just had to go in there and see if I could figure out why. Good luck to me, I guessed.


    There was a bell above the door that dinged as I stepped through. The place definitely looked like a pawn shop, as far as I¡¯d seen them on TV. It was a wide-open room about as large as the school gymnasium, only perfectly square. The ceiling was about fifteen feet up, with tall shelves lining every spot of wall aside from the door where I entered, and a pair of metal doors straight across on the far side of the room that looked like an elevator.


    More shelves of varying sizes were scattered everywhere throughout the room with no apparent rhyme or reason. They were all different heights and angled randomly. Roughly a third of the room toward the middle was lower than the rest, sunken in several feet. There were several stairs leading down into this lower pit area that wrapped all the way around it. In the middle of that pit were four glass counters set in a rectangle, with a guy who looked like he was probably the salesman, or clerk, or whatever behind them, in the middle of the rectangle. He had a TV on the counter facing him, and he was arguing with some guy on the other side of the counter. The guy¡¯s back was to me, but it definitely wasn¡¯t Ashton. Not unless he¡¯d turned black, lost his hair, and gained about a hundred pounds.


    If either the customer or clerk had noticed me enter, neither gave any sign of it. They just continued arguing. So I started slowly walking through the room, letting my eyes pass over the shelves. It just looked like a random assortment of junk. There was no rhyme or reason to it. I saw action figures lumped in with tin cans, GameBoys or other handhelds, and kitchen utensils. I saw a microwave missing the door, with a clock stuck inside of it. On one shelf was a single spray bottle of what had been Formula 409, except someone had taped a piece of paper over the label and written a series of numbers on it. Below the numbers was a scribbled note reading, ¡®Never ever use on tomato sauce. Ever.¡¯ That last word was underlined three times.


    On and on it went. Every shelf throughout this large room was like that, as far as I could see. Moving around one of them, I looked at another with a pile of small handheld vacuums stacked up on it. The vacuums all seemed to be labeled as well, with post-it notes that had a single letter followed by a single number scrawled on them.


    ¡°Ahem.¡±


    The voice made me jump a bit, and I turned to see the clerk standing behind me. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of his customer leaving through the front door.


    My eyes focused on the guy in front of me as I turned. He was about six feet tall, and maybe forty-five or fifty years old, with black greasy hair that was slicked back. He was mostly thin in the arms and legs, but had a pronounced potbelly. When he spoke, I could see teeth that were pretty yellowed from smoking, which explained the breath. ¡°Just so you know, kid, you get any ideas about shoving anything into that bag of yours, and I¡¯ll break your fingers. Then I¡¯ll call the cops. You got it?¡±


    His voice was familiar. It was the guy who answered the phone before. Of that I had no doubt. But why is he the guy that Ashton had been talking to? I wasn¡¯t sure. And I couldn¡¯t exactly ask him.


    Instead, I gave the man a thumbs up. ¡°No worries. I¡¯m just looking around a little bit. Um.¡± Hesitating, I asked, ¡°What kind of place is this? Like, a junk shop?¡±


    The man sneered at me. ¡°You in the habit of walking in places when you don¡¯t even know what they are? And then calling it junk?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I murmured. ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to be rude. I thought junk shop was the right word. This stuff all seems pretty random. People buy it?¡±


    The man made a non-committal noise before turning to walk away with a muttered, ¡°They buy what they need.¡±


    I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and I hesitated briefly, unsure if I should follow him or look around a bit more. In the end, I did a bit of both, gradually making my way toward the counter that he was returning to, while also looking around a bit at more of the junk. Err, stuff.


    As I stopped to look at what seemed to be a lawnmower with an actual motorcycle engine attached to it, a small brown box of sorts sitting next to the television on the glass counter made a chiming sound. The guy gave me one last glance before reaching out to hit a button on it. His voice was gruff. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    The voice that came through what was apparently an intercom there was basically the polar opposite of his. It sounded young and feminine, with a bright chirping tone. ¡°Fred! I need three metal balls, four inches in diameter. Oh, and I need a wooden broom, six ziplock bags, four tin cans, twelve feet of CAT5 cable, two standard light bulbs, and one of those radio alarm clocks with the digital display on the front, please! Thank you!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Wren,¡± the man grunted after hitting the button again. ¡°I¡¯ll bring that right up.¡±


    As he released the button and stepped away, I piped up, ¡°So there is a Wren.¡±


    Giving me a look that clearly showed he¡¯d forgotten I was even there, the man pointed to the door. ¡°We¡¯re closed. Come back another time.¡±


    I was obviously super curious, but I wasn¡¯t going to push things. Nodding to the man, I waved before heading out. I felt his eyes on me the whole time until I stepped through the door. As soon as it had closed behind me, I heard a loud electronic click. I was willing to bet that if I tried the door again, it wouldn¡¯t open.


    Right, there was an actual Wren, and she was clearly upstairs somewhere. If anyone was going to know why Ashton had called, it was probably her. Her name was on the building, after all.


    Unfortunately, there was no way Fred, as his name apparently was, would ever let me talk to her. Nor would I be able to explain to either of them why some teenage girl wanted to find the guy.


    So, I was going to have to go at this a different way. Namely by changing into the costume in my bag and sneaking in. I¡¯d either find the information I needed, or talk to this Wren in person.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Either way, first I had to find a place to change. It ended up being an alley (I was getting to be quite the connoisseur of those) a couple streets over. Stashing my clothes in my bag and hiding it under a bit of machinery on a roof, I jumped over several buildings before making my way to the one closest to my target. It was the roof of the pet store, which was only two stories tall, so the roof of the place in question was another floor higher.


    There were windows along the building, but they all looked barred. I wasn¡¯t sure my purple paint could raise my strength enough to rip one of those bars out. Besides, that would take way too long. I needed to find a faster, easier way in.


    Then I saw it. In the top left corner of the building was a window that was open. There were curtains there that were drifting slightly in the breeze. That was my entrance. I just had to be careful. Really careful.


    Looking around briefly to make sure I wasn¡¯t being watched, I straightened up, extended my hand, and used a burst of red paint to yank myself over beside that window. On the way, I put a bit of black paint both on myself, and on the wall I was about to hit, to keep things silent.


    Hitting the wall just under the open window soundlessly, I stopped there and listened. Music. I could hear James Brown singing about feeling ¡®so good¡¯ coming through the window. It sounded like it was coming from another room in this place, not the one this window was attached to. From the room itself, I couldn¡¯t really hear anything.


    Slowly and cautiously, I peeked up over the edge of the window and looked inside. It looked like a bathroom. There was a tub right below me, and a sink next to it. A blue robe hung on a hook on the open door, and through that opening, I could see a hallway. Sure enough, the music was coming from out there somewhere.


    For a moment, I hesitated. This was technically breaking and entering. Or at least entering. I didn¡¯t know that there was any kind of crime going on, or that these guys definitely had something to do with Ashton.


    On the other hand, why else would he have called them right then? At the very least, they had to know something about him. And this was about saving a little girl. Not to mention stopping the rapidly building gang war from turning the streets bloody.


    Mind made up, I carefully and quietly pulled myself through the window, dropping down into the tub before stopping once again to listen. Just the music. It had moved on to Queen¡¯s Don¡¯t Stop Me Now. Whoever this Wren was, I couldn¡¯t really fault her taste in music.


    Slipping out of the tub, I quietly made my way across the bathroom, crouching on the side of the open door before peering out. There was a hallway there. The place just looked like an ordinary house or an apartment or whatever. Clearly Wren lived here, on the third floor of the building.


    The music was coming from down the hall on the left, so I peeked out to the right first and saw a couple closed doors. The floor of the hallway was carpeted in bright blue, while the walls were white. Or at least, they had been white. I could see random notes, some scrawled on post-its and others written on the wall itself. There were math equations, reminders about picking things up from the store, even what looked like a list of characters from old cartoons. Some of the random notes had arrows drawn to one another connecting them, though I couldn¡¯t see how they were related. Like, there was a list of fruits, with a long squiggly arrow connecting it to some kind of math equation that made my head hurt just looking at it.


    Taking a breath, I crept my way out of the bathroom and further down the hall to the left, where the music was coming from. Just ahead and to the right was a set of stairs leading down, and to the left was an open door leading into what looked like a storage room that was filled with just as random of stuff as the shelves downstairs.


    Moving on, I found a huge bedroom that was basically packed with toys along every spare inch save for a spot right in the middle where a waterbed with Transformers sheets and blankets jumbled up on it. On the nightstand next to the bed sat several more action figures, posed atop a physics book.


    Yeah, this just kept getting weirder. Shaking my head, I kept going, staying low, crouched, and quiet. I had to find this girl.


    Before I could go any further, however, I heard that Fred guy¡¯s voice, calling back something about ice cream from the far end of the hall. The door there started to open, so I quickly threw myself into the bedroom I had just been looking at.


    Footsteps were approaching, and I slipped beside the open door, listening as the man walked past. I could hear the clomp of his feet going down the stairs a moment later. He was gone, for now at least. Which gave me a chance to see this Wren for myself.


    Hurrying down the hall as quietly as I could, I moved straight to the door at the end that Fred had come through. The music was back, as Billy Idol¡¯s Rebel Yell filled the corridor. The man had left the door open a little bit, so I could crouch there and peek through.


    It looked like a garage, complete with a sedan in the middle of the cement floor, which raised all kinds of questions in my head. Starting with, how the hell did they get a car up here on the third floor?


    It was more than a garage, I realized after peeking around a bit more. There was vehicle maintenance stuff in there, but there was also carpentry stuff, a table full of half-built computers, another one with medical supplies scattered around it. There was even a long table to one side with a full on train set complete with miniature town and landscape. The train was chugging away, going in circles. The centerpiece of the train set was a volcano, with a radio sitting half in it. That was the source of the music.


    Right, there was a lot of stuff in here. But where was the girl I was looking for? Seeing nobody and no sign of her after looking around for a minute, I finally had no choice but to slowly step into the room. I kept glancing around, wary of some kind of ambush as I took a few steps into the large room. Fred had just come out of here. So where the hell was¡ª


    ¡°Hi!¡±


    The loud, startling voice came from behind me as the music abruptly cut out, leaving the room silent save for that single word and my resulting yelp. I spun around, hands up defensively, only to find nothing there.


    Then I looked up. There, hovering just above and in front of me, was a girl. At first, I thought she had dragonfly wings. Then I realized that the wings were just attached to the metal harness she was wearing. She also wore a tool belt laden with equipment, held a screwdriver in one hand and a wrench in the other, and had one of those miner helmets with the light on her head.


    Oh, and she was a kid. Like, maybe nine years old at most. She had blonde hair that stuck out wildly in every direction, and her bright green eyes were wide with curiosity and innocence as she hovered there in the air, dragonfly-wings beating soundlessly to keep her in the air.


    While I stood there and stared open-mouthed, the girl dropped to the floor. Her wings retracted back into the harness, and she dropped the tools into her belt before extending a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Wren,¡± she chirped. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ um¡­ you¡¯re Wren?¡± was all I could manage.


    She blinked, head tilting as she looked at me. ¡°You mean you came through my bathroom window and you didn¡¯t even know what I looked like?¡±


    That made me reel even more. ¡°You knew I was there?¡±


    In reply, the girl plucked a remote from her belt and pointed it to the side. She clicked it, and I saw part of the wall turn into a video screen that showed security camera footage of this whole place, including everywhere I had been. Oh.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Wren assured me, ¡°I didn¡¯t tell Fred. He gets growly sometimes, and it¡¯s fun to have a new person to talk to. So, what¡¯s your name? Are you a superhero? Wait, are you a super villain?¡± She said the latter bit a little carefully, eyes squinting at me while taking a step back.


    Quickly, I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m not a villain. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m Paintball. And I¡¯m looking for a guy that I think you did some work for? He¡¯s the bad guy.¡± It was more complicated than that, of course, but I wanted to keep it simple.


    The girl¡¯s head shook. ¡°Nuh uh, I don¡¯t do work for bad guys. See?¡± Her hand raised a point, and I turned to look at a banner that had been painted on the wall. Sure enough, it read, ¡®We Never Work For Bad Guys.¡¯


    Well, I could hardly argue with a banner as straight and to the point as that. Clearing my throat, I looked back to the kid. ¡°You probably didn¡¯t know he was a bad guy. But he stole some medicine from a little girl and she¡¯s going to die if we don¡¯t get it back. His name is Ashton.¡± Quickly, I described the man, adding that he had to use some kind of stun grenade, and that he¡¯d called this place right afterward to have an extended conversation.


    When I was done, the girl snapped her fingers. ¡°Ohhhhh, he¡¯s the guy who came in a few weeks ago and wanted something to break through a bank vault.¡± Then she shook her head. ¡°But we didn¡¯t give him anything. I told him we don¡¯t do that and he left.¡± Sounding thoughtful, the girl added, ¡°He wasn¡¯t very happy. He kept trying to pay more.¡± Her voice turned firm. ¡°But we have standards. We don¡¯t work for bad guys.¡±


    She sounded pretty serious about it, and I hesitated before starting to ask, ¡°Fred, you¡­ is he¡­ I mean¡ª¡±


    The girl blinked at me. ¡°Is Fred what?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s asking,¡± the man himself announced from the doorway where he was standing with a heavy, complicated looking high-tech rifle pointed at me, ¡°if I made a deal with the guy behind your back.


    ¡°Spoiler alert, I did.¡±

 Pursuit 4-03

    ¡°Uncle Fred?¡± Wren sounded confused from behind me. ¡°What do you mean, you made a deal? He wanted to break into a bank vault. We don¡¯t help bank robbers, remember?¡±


    Fred sighed, but kept his fancy looking gun pointed at me. I wasn¡¯t sure what it did, so I didn¡¯t trust my orange paint to protect me from it. I could try yanking it from his hands, but my paint wasn¡¯t exactly instantaneous. He could fire before my paint managed to reach him and activate. Yeah, that was a bad idea. I had to wait for an opening.


    ¡°No,¡± the man was saying, ¡°you don¡¯t help bank robbers. Do you have any idea how much money he offered? Do you have any idea how many new tools and supplies we can get with that? You may be a genius at inventing stuff, kid, but you don¡¯t know shit about the real world. So he was going to rob a bank, so what? All that shit is insured anyway, so who does it hurt?¡±


    Taking that as my cue, I spoke up flatly. ¡°It hurts the little girl whose medicine was in that bank before he stole it. That¡¯s why he wanted to get into the bank in the first place. He stole her medicine and he¡¯s going to let her die because he¡¯s mad at her father.¡± That was kind of an oversimplification, yet at the same time, not. It was what mattered right now.


    Fred squinted at me, shaking his head. ¡°The hell are you talking about? Why would someone keep medicine in a bank vault? That doesn¡¯t even make sense. You¡¯re just making shit up for sympathy.¡±


    Shaking my head at him, I retorted, ¡°No, I¡¯m not. Look, the medicine belongs to La Casa, okay? It was their bank, their medicine. But that doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is that the little girl the medicine is for isn¡¯t a part of that, and she is going to die unless you help me figure out where the guy went. Why did he call you yesterday? What did he want? Maybe you wanted or¡­ or needed to make money, and okay, I understand that. But I know you didn¡¯t want to let a little girl die. You take care of this girl.¡± I gestured over my shoulder without taking my eyes off of him. ¡°Would you just let someone like her die if you could help it?¡±


    I was really, really hoping the answer was no. Otherwise, I was still trying to think of what I could do. Shooting any paint anywhere would probably make him pull the trigger. Suddenly, I really wished I could make paint appear places besides myself without actively shooting it there. It would¡¯ve been really useful.


    ¡°Are you stupid, kid?¡± the man snapped. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just a little sick of just barely scraping by when the kid¡¯s power could make us millionaires. Half the time, she won¡¯t sell the shit she makes because it¡¯s ¡®too dangerous¡¯, and when she does sell it, she puts the money into building more shit. So yeah, just once I saw the chance to make some real money by handing off something she¡¯d never notice missing. You know what we got for it? Fifty thousand dollars. That¡¯s right, fifty k. You know what I did with some of that money? I took care of my brother¡¯s and his wife¡¯s hospital and funeral bills that the sons of bitches wouldn¡¯t stop hounding me about.¡±


    Behind me, Wren¡¯s voice was quiet. ¡°I would have built something we could sell if you told me we were having problems paying Mom and Dad¡¯s bill, Uncle Fred.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± the man snapped. ¡°Look at what you can do! Look at what you can build. We could be on the top of the world. But you¡¯d rather live in this¡­ place. I¡¯ve got the rest of that money, and I¡¯ve been looking into getting us a real lab, a real workshop where you can do real work. A place where we can get out of this¡­ this worthless junk heap.¡±


    Wren sounded even more hurt, her voice softer than before. ¡°But this was Dad¡¯s shop. We can¡¯t leave, it¡¯s¡­ home.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s garbage!¡± he insisted. ¡°You think your dad wanted you to live like this forever? He wanted you to have a better life, a better place. And you could get that anytime you wanted with what you can build. You¡¯ve got everything right in the palm of your hand if you would just take it. You build and patent some of these things for us and we could be living like the goddamn Evans family!¡±


    Hearing my family¡¯s name made me start a little bit, flushing a little under the mask and helmet. It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve heard people talk about my parents¡¯ money like that. But in this kind of context¡­ yeah, it made me uncomfortable.


    Speaking up from behind me once more, Wren politely informed the man, ¡°I don¡¯t want to live like that. I like living like this. I like making whatever I want and not having to listen to what other people want me to make. I don¡¯t want people to use what I make to hurt people. I won¡¯t do that.¡± Her voice was plaintive. ¡°Uncle Fred, if he¡¯s right and some other kid dies because of something I made, I¡¯ll never forgive you.¡±


    A long, wild sigh escaped the man. ¡°God damn it, kid. I¡¯m telling you, he¡¯s making shit up for sympathy. He¡ª¡±


    Before the man could continue, there was a loud chime from somewhere off behind me. Reflexively, I looked that way. It was coming from that security camera screen. On it, we could see the image of the front room of the shop downstairs. The door was standing open, and a line of figures were streaming in.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Fred snapped, ¡°why can¡¯t we ever have this many customers when I¡¯m not in the middle of something? Wait, I locked that. We¡¯ve got customers breaking down the fucking door now?!¡±


    ¡°Those aren¡¯t customers,¡± I informed the man. ¡°Look at their jackets.¡± Clearly visible through the security footage, the men were wearing the colors and logos marking them as part of Oscuro, the Latino gang led by Cu¨¦lebre.


    Staring at the screen, I couldn¡¯t see any Touched. That didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t show up though, and regular old armed thugs were dangerous enough all on their own. But hey, at least the dragon-man himself wasn¡¯t here. Not that his giant body would¡¯ve fit through the door. Still, this was bad. Really bad.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw the girl press something on her belt, and we could abruptly hear sound from the screen.


    ¡°Spread out,¡± a guy who had stayed by the door ordered. ¡°Find anyone in the building and bring them here. We¡¯ll find out what that guy was doing here yesterday if we have to take this place down to the foundation.¡±


    Wren turned a reproachful look to her uncle. ¡°That guy was here yesterday?¡±


    Fred grimaced, waving his free hand while muttering, ¡°He just needed¡ªlook never mind. I¡¯ll go deal with this.¡±


    He started to turn, and the second he did, I shot a bit of red paint at his gun while turning my glove red too. It was yanked from his hand and over to mine as I snapped, ¡°You¡¯ll get yourself killed.¡±


    As soon as I caught the gun, a polite female voice immediately announced, ¡°You are not authorized. Please put me down, or I will have to take measures. Five, four¨C¡±


    Quickly, Wren reached past me and took the weapon from my grip, and the gun stopped counting down. Her voice was sheepish. ¡°If an unauthorized person holds it for too long or tries to fire it, it¡¯ll fall apart. And then melt into goo. It¡¯s a, umm, a safety feature.¡±


    Coughing, I replied, ¡°Good to know.¡± On the screen, some of the guys were clearly trying to figure out how to get through the doors, while others had spread out throughout the large shop, looking through things, tossing stuff off of shelves, and generally making a mess. I didn¡¯t know if they were just trying to attract attention, actually looking for something, or expressing frustration. Probably all three.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Fred snapped in a terse voice without taking his eyes off the screen, ¡°it¡¯s great. Now give me that damn thing and I¡¯ll go down and get rid of these assholes.¡±


    Wren shook her head and pointed to me. ¡°He¡¯s right, Uncle Fred. They¡¯ll kill you. And I don¡¯t want you to die, even if you are being kind of a jerk right now. But¡­¡± She stomped her foot then, staring at the screen. ¡°They¡¯re wrecking Dad¡¯s shop!¡±


    ¡°What the hell are they even doing here?¡± Fred demanded. ¡°What the hell does this have to do with Oscuro?¡±


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    ¡°Could have to do with the reward,¡± I murmured. ¡°Or they¡¯re just¨C¡±


    The man¡¯s gaze snapped to me. ¡°Reward? Why the hell didn¡¯t you say so? If it¡¯s the kind of reward that¡¯s got these guys out in arms, then it¡¯s worth it. You get us out of here and I¡¯ll tell you anything you need to know to track that jackass down. But we get a cut of the reward.¡±


    Before I could respond to that, another alarm beeped. The screen split, showing what we had already been watching on half. On the other half, it showed several men using an extension ladder to climb up toward the same window I had come in through. They were about halfway up, and coming fast. It looked like they had some kind of submachine guns or something slung over their shoulders.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Wren murmured, ¡°I guess I should¡¯ve started putting in those defenses I had ideas for.¡±


    Quickly looking to the girl, I asked, ¡°Will those doors hold down there? And where do those stairs go? I don¡¯t see them on the screen.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s an elevator and stairs through those doors,¡± she replied. ¡°And they¡¯ll hold for a minute, I think.¡±


    ¡°Can we get out of here?¡± I asked. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to, but that¡¯s a lot of guys and¨C¡±


    Her head was bobbing up and down quickly. ¡°Uh huh, but umm, we need the remote that¡¯s in the room those guys are coming in.¡± She pointed to the screen, switching to a view of the bathroom. ¡°It¡¯s on the sink.¡±


    Wincing, I swallowed before making myself speak again past the sudden rush of fear. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ do something about the guys at the window and get the remote. You be ready to get out of here.¡±


    I heard her start to object, but I was already moving, going right past Fred and through the door. A glance over my shoulder at the security screen on the way out showed that the men were almost to the top of the ladder.


    What the hell was I thinking? What was I doing? I was acting like I actually had the slightest clue how to handle this. Those guys had guns. I¡¯d seen them on the screen. And yeah, I¡¯d dealt with men with guns already. A distressingly large number of times in the past week, to be honest. But still, I could die. I could seriously die. Even as I moved through the doorway and into the hall as though I knew exactly what I was doing, my heart was beating its way out of my chest, and I could barely contain the whimper.


    But I shoved all that down and focused on the place that I already knew those guys would be coming through. The bathroom. I could still picture it in my head, and I could actually hear the men climbing through that window into the tub as I got nearer. They were trying to be quiet, but not that much. No, these guys were clearly planning on hitting fast and hard. Just outside the door, I heard them checking their guns and whispering about going on three.


    Okay, that was it. Scared or not, I had to do this. Those guys were not going to listen if we tried to reason with them. They would hurt Wren and her uncle, maybe even kill them to get what they wanted. Oscuro wasn¡¯t like La Casa. They had no rule against harming children. And to get those vials and have leverage over Blackjack, I had no doubt that they would do whatever they thought it took.


    I was going to shove my fear into a box, lock it away into a deep, dark hole, and deal with this.


    Thinking quickly, I sprayed down a wide swath of blue paint on the floor with one hand. It almost matched the blue carpet that was already there. Enough that it might not stand out immediately. At the same time, I used my other hand to shoot a thin line of red at the ceiling. Hearing the men coming for the door, I quickly slipped into the nearby storage room that I had checked earlier. Waiting there, I listened as the man came into the hall. Through the crack that I left in the door after pulling it shut, I caught a glimpse of them moving forward. Holding my breath, I waited until the guy in the lead (a big man with a full beard and shaved head) was almost to the end of the blue paint I had laid down. Hoping that all the men were on it by that point, I triggered the paint.


    The results were immediate. With a collection of screams, the trio were sent flying hard up into the ceiling. As they fell back down, I shoved the door open and focused on the guns. Two of them had dropped their weapons while the big guy still had his. I shot red paint at all three before activating both it and the paint on the ceiling.


    I hit two of the guns, one that was falling and the one in the big guy¡¯s hand. The third I missed, and it bounced off the floor while the first two were yanked up to the ceiling and held there.


    Trying to keep shaking terror out of my voice, I blurted, ¡°Geeze, I heard the Mormon missionaries were getting pretty gung-ho, but come on.¡±


    My distraction worked, and the trio looked to me instead of diving for the gun on the floor. The big one growled while lunging for me, his heavily muscled arm lashing out. It was like a tattooed freight train coming my way.


    Painting a green lightning bolt over my chest and activating it to speed myself up, I ducked under the much slower man¡¯s outstretched arm. Both of my fists turned purple as I drove one into his side, hearing a couple cracks from his ribs and a cry of pain from the man. My other hand caught his outstretched arm, and I yanked him forward into the wall.


    I was already continuing my pivot to face the other two, both of whom were going for the gun on the floor, as the paint on the ceiling had not yet faded. Thinking quickly, I shot green paint at both of them, speeding the men up so that they collided with one another in their rush to grab the weapon.


    Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind, as the big guy recovered enough to let out a loud string of curses while hauling me off the ground. At the same time, the ceiling paint disappeared and the guns up there were dropped to the floor almost right next to the recovering pair.


    Right, this is going well.


    ¡°Stupid son of a bitch,¡± the guy holding me from behind growled while crushing me against his chest with my feet dangling. ¡°I don¡¯t know who the fuck you think you are, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± I interrupted, forcing the words out through the pain in my ribs and lungs. ¡°You should really know about me by now.¡±


    My arms were pinned to my sides. But that was fine, because I wanted to point down anyway. With those words, I sprayed a puddle of blue paint at the man¡¯s feet and activated it.


    Once more, he was launched up toward the ceiling with a loud curse. This time, I was yanked with him. But he was taller than me, so he hit the ceiling first, losing his grip. I collided with the ceiling too, but hey, helmet. Which, just to be on the safe side, I had already painted orange.


    I had to be running low on paint. Time to deal with this, before things got a lot worse.


    Luckily, the second trip up into the ceiling seemed to have affected the man more than the first. Probably thanks to the other injuries he¡¯d already taken. He was down on one knee, shaking his head slowly back-and-forth as though trying to clear it.


    Unfortunately, that still left the other two guys, who had collected the guns from the floor and were already bringing them up to face me. My hands came up to shoot paint at them, aaaaand nothing happened. Sure enough, I¡¯d used too much in the past few seconds. The men, however, jerked back reflexively, giving me a second to throw myself through the open doorway back into the storage room where I hit the floor just as they started firing.


    Oh God, oh God, oh fuck! I didn¡¯t have any paint. I was just a little kid, cowering on the floor while bullets blew through the wall and door around me. All the stuff on the shelves was shattering and blowing apart. I might¡¯ve screamed, but I wasn¡¯t sure.


    The shooting finally stopped, and I heard one of the guys tell the other to check it, followed by the sound of him continuing down the hallway.


    The kid. Wren. Hell, even her uncle. Forcing my blinding terror down, I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes. I had to do this. Looking at my hand, I focused and prayed that my paint had recovered.


    A couple seconds later, the man kicked the remains of the door open and stepped through with his gun pointed right where I had just been.


    But I wasn¡¯t there anymore. I was beside the door, and as the man came through, my purple glove snatched the gun from his hand, partly crushing it as I tossed the weapon aside. The man¡¯s gaze snapped to me and he swung a fist. But I caught it with my other purple hand, hearing a cry of pain as his bones cracked.


    With a grunt, I hauled the man into the room and slammed his head into one of the shelves hard enough to daze him. Before he could recover, I had one of the metal cuffs that Flea had given me latched around both of his wrists. Leaving him there as the cuffs turned blue, I went for the open doorway.


    The big guy there was starting to pick himself up. But I used the remaining time on my purple gloves to put a fist in his stomach, doubling him over once more before cuffing him as well.


    From there, I started to head for the main workshop, breaking into a run. But before I took more than a few steps, Fred and Wren came through. The guy who had gotten away from me was facing them. But he didn¡¯t have time to actually do anything, because Wren had given Fred the big gun back. He fired it. As he did so, an orange-gold beam shot from the weapon, hitting the man in the chest. Then the beam sort of¡­ wrapped around him. Crackling with power, the beam lifted the man off the ground and threw him backward into the wall with enough force that he collapsed.


    ¡°What¨Cwhat did that¡­¡± I started.


    ¡°Most of the stuff I build is about moving things,¡± Wren informed me brightly. ¡°The gun moves things that don¡¯t want to move. Sometimes really roughly. And repeatedly.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± Fred snapped at me while I was digesting that. ¡°They¡¯re cutting through the doors down there. We need to get the fuck out of here, right now.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± I replied, jogging back past the downed guys to grab the remote that Wren had pointed out. As I turned, the other two were there, and I held the remote out. ¡°We¡¯re good now?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± she confirmed, taking the remote. ¡°But more problems.¡± She held out a small pocket computer, showing me the screen. On it, I could see a security feed of outside of the building. Three vans had pulled up and more Oscuro troops were getting out.


    And Touched. There were obvious Touched with them.


    This situation had suddenly gone from bad but manageable, to a whole lot worse.

 Pursuit 4-04

    Spinning back to the other two, I blurted, ¡°Okay, all those guys have either powers or guns or both. The point is, we need to get out of here. Like, now now. Is that remote gonna help us leave?¡± As I was speaking, I made three separate lines of green paint, running from my ankle up to my waist, appear on my right leg. A second later, I did the same on my left leg with purple paint. I didn¡¯t power it, I just made it appear.


    One of the guys I had handcuffed called out, ¡°Or you could fucking surrender, hijo de puta! Maybe Cu¨¦lebre¡¯ll actually let you keep one of your lungs!¡±


    Fred stared at the man for a moment, while Wren started running back toward her lab. ¡°This way!¡± With a grunt, the man turned back to follow his niece. I was right behind him.


    Just as we reached the spot where the stairs were, a hail of gunfire greeted us from below, making all three of us duck back away from them. Apparently the first group had made it through the doors down there and were already shooting. Which seemed like a really stupid way to get information out of any of us, but what did I know?


    Someone down there must have agreed with me, however, because I heard frantic shouting to stop shooting. Then a new voice called up, ¡°Hey! You give us the guy, or the thing he stole from that bank. Either way, then we leave you alone! You got it? That¡¯s a good deal, right?¡±


    I had a real bad feeling that they weren¡¯t going to listen if we just told them we didn¡¯t have either of those. I also saw Fred¡¯s mouth opening to say so, so I shot a small glob of black paint to silence him before whispering, ¡°The only reason they¡¯re not rushing up those stairs right now and shooting all of us is because they think we might have what they want. Let¡¯s not give them a reason to doubt that.¡±


    Raising my voice then, I called, ¡°These things are worth a lot! You think we¡¯re just gonna let you take them?¡± As I said those words, three triangles appeared on my left arm, along with three circles, and three stars. The triangles were orange, the circles purple, and the stars green.


    While a loud burst of murmuring started from the people below, I thought quickly before looking back the way we had come. Using red paint, I pulled two of the discarded guns to me, catching them in either hand.


    ¡°Do you even know how to use those?¡± Fred hissed, clutching his own weapon.


    From below, the guy who had spoken before called up, ¡°You know, you¡¯re in a bad position! But maybe we can work something out! Say, you walk out with a cool hundred grand!¡±


    Shaking my head to Fred¡¯s question, I focused on painting the guns in my hand white while calling back, ¡°Hundred grand out of three million isn¡¯t much of a share!¡±


    While they were reacting to that below, I looked to the others. ¡°On the count of three, run for it. One¡­ two¡­¡±


    I threw both guns over the edge of the stairs them, letting them fall a bit before triggering the paint. There was a sudden bright flash and screams from the men who were blinded.


    ¡°Three!¡± I blurted, already scrambling to my feet to run across the opening. Guns were going off, but we were already past the opening and on our way into the lab.


    The second we were through, Wren blurted some kind of code, and a heavy steel door fell into place. Hopefully that would buy us a little bit of time, though I had no idea how many of the Oscuro Touched had shown up. I was racking my brain, trying to remember what powers we had to deal with. But it was hard to think through all the panic.


    Wren was moving toward one of the tables of random junk, digging through it for something. Meanwhile, Fred looked to me. ¡°You really think you can get us away from these assholes even if we get out of the building?¡±


    For a second, I was quiet before nodding. ¡°If we can get to the roof, I think I can get us to another building. Then we can go from there. But I don¡¯t see what we¡¯re supposed to be doing in this¡ª¡±


    ¡°Got ¡®em!¡± Wren blurted. We both looked that way to see her triumphantly holding up a pack of batteries. She took four out and shoved them into the remote I¡¯d gotten for her, then hit a button on it. As she did so, part of the roof above us immediately began to retract. It slid aside, revealing open sky.


    ¡°I like to see the stars sometimes,¡± the girl explained with a shrug before gesturing to the opening. ¡°Are you guys coming, or what?¡± Even as she spoke, her dragonfly-like wings popped out of that harness once more and she hovered up off the floor. ¡°Come on!¡± Her hand snapped out to grab a backpack that she had apparently thrown some things into before rising.


    ¡°Kid,¡± Fred started, ¡°how the hell am I supposed t¡ª¡±


    By that point, I had finished filling some of the blank space between the lines I¡¯d made earlier with new purple, and sprayed a circle of blue under our feet. In the middle of the man¡¯s sentence, I wrapped my arms around him, then triggered that purple bit and the blue on the floor all at once as I leapt. Between the new strength in my legs, and the boost from the blue circle, I completely cleared the hole in the roof, while Fred screamed in my ear. Really should¡¯ve hit him with black paint again.


    Landing easily on the roof, I let the man go. He stumbled to his knees and panted as Wren hovered nearby on her mechanical wings.


    Meanwhile, below us, there was a sudden commotion. I looked down through the hole in time to see the heavy steel door melt into slag. One of the Oscuro Touched came through, accompanied by several foot soldiers. I recognized the guy immediately, thanks to his long red leather trench coat and matching welding mask. His name was Coverfire, and his powers allowed him to sheath himself in a very close force field that was immune to most damage and also so hot it could basically melt through anything.


    Coverfire looked up through the hole in the roof and started to shout something, just as Wren hit the button to make it close once more. ¡°Kay!¡± She chirped while gripping that backpack with one hand. ¡°We can leave now.¡±


    Right. Quickly, I sprayed a line of blue paint down near the edge of the roof. ¡°Fred and I are going to jump off that circle there. It should get us to the next roof. From there, we can drop down and run. Wren, can your uhhh, wing¡­ things keep up with that?¡± At her quick nod, I breathed out. ¡°Okay, then let¡¯s do it.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait,¡± Fred blurted, ¡°are you sure this is gonna work?¡± His eyes were wide with panic.


    Shrugging at him, I pointed to the spot of roof where the hatch was. It was already glowing red. Somehow, Coverfire was able to get high enough to start melting through it. I didn¡¯t know how, since I was pretty sure he couldn¡¯t fly, but I wasn¡¯t going to question it. ¡°You could always stay and talk it out with them.¡±


    Grimacing, the man spun toward the blue circle and ran for it. I was right behind him, with Wren flying alongside us. I caught up easily, and we jumped on the blue circle just as I activated it, using that to launch ourselves over to the next building.


    We came down on the roof. Fred basically crashed into a heap, rolling with his fall as he cursed the whole way. Meanwhile, I painted my feet orange and landed easily in a crouch. While straightening up, I painted a sort of¡­ comet shape on my chest. It was mostly orange, with a bit of black as an outline, along with purple and green flames trailing behind it.


    We¡¯d made it. We were off the first building. Now all we had to do was get down off the other side out of sight before they got people up on the roof, and then¡ª


    Fred suddenly started cursing extensively, and I quickly looked that way to see him peering off the edge of the roof near the shop we had just left. Moving that way, I looked down.


    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have to look that far to see what he was staring at. The figure below was about half the height of the two-story building we were standing on. Fifteen feet tall, with enormous bat-like wings, dark blue-violet skin, and a long bladed tail, he was instantly recognizable.


    Cu¨¦lebre. It was Cu¨¦lebre, the leader of Oscuro. And he was looking right at me, a slow smile appearing on his enormous face.


    I didn¡¯t stop to think. My hand snapped out and I grabbed the backpack out of Wren¡¯s hands while blurting, ¡°I¡¯ll get it back to you, get outta here!¡±


    With those words, I leapt off the side of the building while hauling the bag onto my shoulder. Painting my feet orange once more at the last instant, I landed on the ground just a short distance away from Cu¨¦lebre. Then I looked up.


    Ohhhh God. Oh fuck. Oh shit, shit, shit. He was even bigger from this angle. He was fucking gigantic. He was an enormous demon, watching me with a wry smirk on his face, which itself was clearly recognizable as a Latino man, even if it was purplish-blue. He was a fifteen foot tall, hugely muscular winged demon standing at his full, impressive height. Meanwhile, even when I was standing up, I barely topped five feet. And I wasn¡¯t standing, I¡¯d landed in a crouch.


    I looked like a mouse he might step on.


    ¡°Well,¡± the man announced with obvious amusement, ¡°this does save me the few seconds it would take to chase you down. I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be this cooperative.¡±


    Strangely, for a man whose entire thing was to create a gang consisting only of Latino members, Cu¨¦lebre spoke with literally no accent. If I had closed my eyes, I could have believed that I was hearing any old white guy talking. And I dearly, dearly wanted to close my eyes.


    Instead, I rose to my much less-than-impressive height, squared my shoulders, and looked up at the man. ¡°Your friend in there wanted to rip me off. A hundred thousand off of three million after all the work I¡¯ve put into finding these¡ª those vials? Why don¡¯t you make a better offer and maybe I¡¯ll tell you where they are?¡±


    For a moment, the giant figure in front of me stared as though finding it difficult to believe I was that stupid. Behind him, some of his foot soldiers chuckled, saying some things in Spanish.


    ¡°Well,¡± Cu¨¦lebre slowly drawled, ¡°we could stand here and negotiate. Or you could hand over that bag.¡±


    Making myself look at it quickly and, I hoped, expressing guilt in my body language and voice, I blurted, ¡°What do you want my bag for?¡±


    The smirk grew, and his tail suddenly flashed forward, stopping right in front of me as though waiting for me to place the bag on the bladed tip. ¡°Call it a hunch.¡±


    Shifting from one foot to the other, I hesitantly replied, ¡°Well, I¡­ I suppose¡­ if you want the bag¡­¡±


    My hands snapped up and back over my head, pointing to the roof of the building across the street while I finished with, ¡°You can come get it!¡±


    Before he or the others could react, the red paint I had just shot and connected to my red gloves yanked me up and backwards. I heard the man shout a curse as I was hauled across the street, spinning over in the air to face that way.


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    Hearing gunfire and shouting behind me, I released the red paint and tucked my legs to overshoot the roof. Landing in a sprint, I raced for the opposite edge of the roof while painting the blank space on my legs green to speed myself up.


    Chancing a peek over my shoulder as I reached the edge of the roof, I saw Cu¨¦lebre as he hurled himself into the air, his wings beating down hard. He could fly. He was going to catch up with me pretty damn quick if I didn¡¯t hurry the hell up.


    Hitting the edge of the roof, I leapt, snapping my hand out and shooting a glob of red paint at a billboard in the distance to yank myself that way. Behind me, I could hear my terrifying pursuer¡¯s wings beating the air. Faster, Cassidy, go faster!


    Landing on top of the billboard, I ran along it while Cu¨¦lebre shouted for me to stop. He was soaring over the roof I had just left, as I turned my feet purple for a bit of a boost and leapt from the billboard to another roof a short distance below. In mid-air, I spoke the code to make my skates pop out, landing smoothly right on the raised brick lip at the edge of the roof before rolling along it.


    Everything had started too quick for me to really think about what I was doing. My only thought had been to get this guy away from Wren and Fred. And now? Well, now I was basically running in a blind panic. If he caught me, and even worse, if he found out I didn¡¯t really have the vials but had purposely tricked him into thinking I did so he would chase me? I really didn¡¯t want to think about what he would do. Didn¡¯t want to think about it at all.


    Less thinking, more running, skating, jumping, and fleeing.


    Hitting the edge of the new roof just as Cu¨¦lebre came down hard right behind me with enough force to shake the building, I shot a bit of blue paint right at the corner, launching myself upward and forward right before the man¡¯s giant hand swept through the air where I had just been.


    ¡°Have you thought about working for my school?!¡± I half-frantically called back to him while landing against the wall of a taller building, using red paint on my right hand and right foot to hold myself there with a quick glance that way. ¡°They could really use you as a truant officer!¡±


    Why was I trying to piss him off even more? The guy was already mad enough and definitely following me. I let out an almost cartoon-like meep as the giant demon-figure hurled himself off the last roof toward me, and used a line of red to yank myself away, back to the next roof over.


    I landed on my wheels, activated one of the green lines on my legs. This is what they were for. I¨Cwell, I hadn¡¯t known that I¡¯d be running from fucking Cu¨¦lebre, but having paint made in advance had seemed like a good idea after what happened back in the shop. And it was sure coming in handy now.


    Glancing over my shoulder that time turned out to be a good thing, because Cu¨¦lebre was hovering in the air with his tail up, bladed end pointed at me while sparks danced around it.


    Oh shi¨CI dove sideways, activating a green mark on my leg and one of the orange triangles on my arm. An instant later, a bolt of lightning shot from the end of the man¡¯s tail, slamming into the spot where I had been. He¡¯d clearly toned the shot down from what he was capable of, trying to stun me rather than kill me (I¡¯d seen news footage of a full-power shot from that tail taking out a car). Even then, it blew some of the bricks from the roof away, singeing others.


    I was wrong, he hadn¡¯t just been trying to stun me. He¡¯d been trying to blow at least one of my feet off, if not a whole leg.


    Of course, things weren¡¯t done getting worse. Even as I picked myself up from where I¡¯d haphazardly thrown myself into the middle of the roof, I could see sparks dancing out from the impact site where the bolt had hit. It looked like static electricity or something dancing around the rubble there. Then, one by one, the broken pieces of metal, stone, and brick lifted themselves into the air.


    Yeah, because having a lightning doom cannon attached to his tail wasn¡¯t enough. The guy could dial the damage on the shot all the way from ¡®blow through a car¡¯ down to ¡®stings a little bit,¡¯ and every time one of his shots hit something, it sent out those bits of electricity that gave the man telekinetic-like control of any non-living material they hit.


    So to recap, Cu¨¦lebre was a giant demon with flight, vast super-strength, was basically invulnerable, had a lightning cannon for a tail, and could telekinetically control anything said lightning hit and didn¡¯t destroy. I, meanwhile, had¡­ paint. Whoever¡¯s idea it was for me to pick a fight with this guy was an idiot.


    Oh. Right.


    Ducking as two larger bits of debris were hurled at my head, I shot a quick wave of yellow over the rest of the debris, hoping that the slowing effect would keep them off me as I spun to run away. In the process, I activated another line of green paint on my legs as well as one of the green stars on my arm just to boost myself even further. Then I hauled ass, running to the edge of the roof.


    Cu¨¦lebre was right above and behind me. I leapt from the roof, using red paint to yank myself to the next building over before skating along the wall. He sent several more shots around me, narrowly missing with each one, mostly thanks to the green paint keeping me going faster than he expected. Each shot blew bits of the building away, adding more to the debris that he kept flinging my way. I had to keep activating the orange triangles to avoid being knocked off the wall.


    From that building, I jumped to the roof of another and kept going. Run, run, run, ruuuuun!


    He was there. He was always there, right on my heels. I raced through the city, leaping from roof to roof, saved from screaming in a blind panic only by the fact that all of my breath was going toward running. If he caught me, if he caught me¡­


    Eventually, I hit the edge of yet another roof. I could see a covered pedestrian bridge in the distance connecting two buildings in the nearby business park. As I ran for it, I¡¯d barely crossed about three quarters of the roof when the whole thing shook under me as Cu¨¦lebre landed with a guttural roar that practically made me pee myself for like the seventeenth time in the past ten minutes. I didn¡¯t dare look back. I didn¡¯t need to, considering I could practically feel his breath on my neck.


    I heard and felt him lunge. It was too soon, I wasn¡¯t going to make it. My only chance to avoid being caught and probably killed was¡­


    I jumped. Using the last of the purple lines on my leg, I hurled myself straight up into the air rather than forward. I felt his massive form pass by right under me while I turned in a flip in mid-air, landing in a crouch on his back. His wings beat hard against the air, nearly knocking me off while the man himself let out a grunt of surprise.


    Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I was literally riding on the back of one of the most powerful and dangerous Touched in the tri-state area. And from the sound of things, he wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled by that fact. That tail of his was already whipping up and around to smack me off of him.


    Quickly, I shot one glob of red paint at the incoming tail and another glob to the roof. My ten seconds on the purple paint wasn¡¯t up yet, so I hurled myself up off of him while activating the red paint. ¡°No thanks!¡± I called while his tail was yanked down, ¡°I¡¯ll just get off here!¡±


    In the air, I snapped my hand out and shot another bit of red at the bridge across the lot. Cu¨¦lebre was already recovering, snapping his tail away from my paint, breaking the hold it had. The bladed end cut through the air right where I had been an instant before my new paint yanked me away. Giddy from my escape, I yelled back, ¡°Seriously, truant officer, you could wear a cute little vest!¡±


    Soaring toward the bridge, I tucked my legs up to clear the railing and landed right inside between a couple of startled onlookers.


    ¡°Are you stupid?!¡± I blurted without thinking. ¡°Run!¡±


    Both of the men screamed, as a loud crunch filled the air and part of the roof of the bridge dented inward. Cu¨¦lebre was here.


    With a shriek of tearing metal, his tail was driven through the roof of the bridge. It narrowly missed everyone before being retracted lightning-quick, then came down again. That time, it came within a few hairs of splitting one of the men in half.


    Cursing myself (and them, to be honest), I painted part of my arms purple and lunged that way. I managed to catch hold of the tail and held on for dear life with one arm while grabbing onto the nearby railing with the other. ¡°Run!¡± I repeated to the men who were frozen in terror.


    Thank fuck, they ran. Cu¨¦lebre tried to retract his tail again, but I was still holding on. For a second, anyway. I could feel his strength completely outstripping mine. He was going to rip that tail out of my grip, or rip me in half. Whichever came first.


    Or, he was going to punch a hole through the roof with his fist, rip it open and glare down at me. Yeah, that was the one he went with.


    ¡°Uhhhh¡­¡± I gave him an awkward nod while still clinging to his tail. ¡°Sup?¡±


    With a snarl, the demonic-man went to grab me. But I reacted quicker, releasing his tail and the railing. The purple paint was done anyway. Falling onto my back in the middle of the bridge as his groping hand narrowly missed me, I threw myself into a backward roll before he could correct his aim. The bag came off my back, but I snatched it up just in time while scrambling to my feet. Then I was running along the bridge, hearing the sound of Cu¨¦lebre scrambling along the roof above me while the whole structure shook around us. Every once in awhile, one of his hands would punch through the roof, or his tail would come lashing in from the side. I was running, ducking, rolling, jumping, twisting, doing everything to avoid him. His fingers would nearly catch my head before I rolled under them. His tail would sweep in and I would leap up and over it. He was only missing by millimeters. The end of the bridge leading into the building was close, but so was he.


    ¡°Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, fuck!¡± My stunning verbal skills throughout this leg of my frantic escape were sure to win me an astounding number of grammatical awards.


    But I was there. I was right there, almost into the building. Unfortunately, Cu¨¦lebre noticed how close we were too, and leapt ahead. Just before I had a chance to get into the building proper, the enormous demonic figure literally slammed his entire body down through both the roof and floor. The whole end of it broke apart with a terrifying crash, shattering into pieces to leave a gap between the end of the bridge and the building. Cu¨¦lebre himself hovered there, glaring at me. Even better, the damage we¡¯d done to the bridge was extensive enough that the whole thing was starting to collapse. With a loud grinding, tearing noise, the structure was swaying. The floor was literally starting to fall out from under me.


    Oh, and there were people far below who were staring up like idiots while the pieces of the bridge slowly began to collapse. The whole thing would fall any second, and they were just standing there. So, this whole thing was just¡­ lovely, really.


    Activating the green comet flames on my shirt to speed myself up, I simultaneously turned the backpack white, with a small red circle, hurling the bag up toward my relentless pursuer. Reflexively, his gaze snapped to it, just as I triggered the blinding flash. He recoiled, buying me a second or two.


    In the meantime, I was falling through the air. Flipping over, I turned my feet red and used a quick shot to attach myself to the side of the building, facing downward toward the two idiot rubberneckers. Perched there, I pointed one arm at them while pointing my other hand a short distance away. Red paint sprayed from both, coating the two and a nearby park bench. As it activated, the onlookers were yanked off their feet and hurled sideways to crash into the bench an instant before the collapsing bridge completely gave up and crashed down right where they had been standing.


    Meanwhile, Cu¨¦lebre had recovered already and was grabbing for the bag. But I activated the spot of red I¡¯d left on it while holding a red glove up, and the thing flew right between his hands and into mine.


    Yeah, I could¡¯ve just let him have it, but something told me that while it didn¡¯t have the medicine, any Tech-Touched stuff Wren might have in there wouldn¡¯t be good for him to get either. Or she could have family mementos, and I didn¡¯t want to lose those either.


    Before I could move, Cu¨¦lebre was there. Hovering right in front of me, his massive hand caught hold of my body. I was suddenly crushed in his grip, while he glared. ¡°That,¡± he announced as I felt sharp pain spreading, my bones seconds away from collapsing under the force, ¡°is quite enough of that, little boy. You could have done this the easy way. But now, I think I prefer the¨C¡±


    He was gone. No, I was gone. I was somewhere else. Suddenly, I wasn¡¯t in his grasp. I was standing in a parking lot somewhere. With a yelp, I stumbled and fell onto my backside.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Wren was there, hovering over me with an apologetic look. ¡°It took a few minutes to get to the van, and then we had to set up the teleporter, and wait for you to have the bag back so we could use the beacon in it. Are you okay?¡±


    Beacon¡­ teleporter¡­ van¡­ I was¡­ I was safe. I was away from the demonic asshole. I wasn¡¯t dead.


    I wasn¡¯t dead!


    ¡°We¡¯re okay?¡± I asked a bit shakily. ¡°We¡¯re safe? No one¡¯s around?¡±


    Her head bobbed up and down. ¡°Uh huh. We weren¡¯t followed or anything. No one¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Slowly pushing myself up, I murmured, ¡°Excuse me for just a second, okay?¡± As gracefully and carefully as possible, I stood, stepped away from the girl¡­ and then proceeded to pump my fists in the air, jumping up and down as I cackled madly, laughing so hard I nearly peed myself.


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes! Haaaaaa ha ha! Haaaaa! Take that, you giant demon asshole! What¡¯d you get out of all that, huh? What¡¯d you get out of chasing me? Tired! That¡¯s what you got!


    ¡°Hah!¡±

 Pursuit 4-05 And Patreon Snippets 1

    I¡¯d survived. Oh dear God, oh God, I was alive! I escaped. I went head to head (if running away from constantly could be called ¡®going head to head¡¯) with Cu¨¦lebre and lived to talk about it. Granted, he would¡¯ve killed me without a second thought and with even less effort if Wren and her uncle hadn¡¯t teleported me out of his grasp, but still! I was counting it. I was alive! I was alive!


    Was it wrong that on top of laughing like a maniac and jumping up and down, I also kind of wanted to do a little dance right then?


    Even as I caught my breath and came down from the ¡­ well, basically everything that I¡¯d just gone through with the giant pissed off demonic-dragon man, Fred and Wren were staring at me. Feeling a little self-conscious, I cleared my throat. ¡°Sorry. Um. Thanks for pulling me out of there. Seriously, you have amazing timing. But please tell me you have some kind of actual information for me about where Ashton went, after everything that just happened?¡±


    Fred, of course, was already starting to hedge his bets. ¡°Right, of course. But before we get into that, we should talk about our cut of the reward. If we can help-¡±


    ¡°Just tell him, Uncle Fred,¡± Wren insisted, folding her arms while giving her uncle a dirty look.


    While the two exchanged glances, I had time to look around a bit more. We were in the far end of the parking lot of a grocery store. It was late enough that the lot itself was only about a quarter full, and I surreptitiously checked one of my phones for the time, only to find the screen had been smashed during that whole exchange. Whoops. At least it wasn¡¯t the phone that Double Down had given me. That I had put away in a safe place for the time being.


    Checking my actual phone revealed that it was almost nine o¡¯clock. Not all that late yet, so that was one thing off my mind. Good thing neither of my parents really paid that much attention. As long as I was there in the morning and they didn¡¯t have any reason to actively check on me in the middle of the night, I should be fine.


    Finally, Fred exhaled hard, waving a hand. ¡°Fine, whatever. I guess we did get out of there thanks to you.¡± He was squinting at me while continuing, ¡°Look, the guy called demanding I give him some help finding a new place to hole up, and a safe way to contact the buyer for whatever he was selling. I started to tell him to take a hike, but he promised more money.¡±


    ¡°So you gave him a place to stay?¡± I pressed, starting to feel like this might work out.


    Unfortunately, my hopes for that were immediately dashed as the man shook his head. ¡°Not exactly,¡± he informed me with what was at least a regretful look. ¡°I ahh, I sold him one of the vans.¡± He glanced toward his niece then, adding, ¡°She fixed up a few vans to be like mini-campers or whatever. There¡¯s a bed, stove, water, everything you could need in the back.¡±


    With an eager nod, Wren quickly piped up, ¡°You have to fill up the water tank once a day, but it runs off that. You can keep everything, the radio, the lights, the television, all of that running off a full tank of water. And the van itself too, though you have to fill up the water tank more often if you do a lot of driving.¡± She paused, looking thoughtful. ¡°You know, maybe I should separate the two tanks, just so there¡¯s always some left to drive if you run the television all night.¡±


    Before the girl could go off on too much of a tangent about that (and looking like he was quite accustomed to her doing so), Fred hurriedly continued. ¡°Anyway, he said something about camping out in parking lots or whatever. You know, places like this.¡± He gestured around the lot we were in, and I reflexively looked around on the one in a billion chance we had randomly ended up in the right one. We hadn¡¯t, of course. There were no vans parked anywhere around the back of the lot that I could see. Not surprising, but still. I would¡¯ve taken that particular lightning bolt of luck without arguing one bit.


    Fred had been glancing around as well, obviously just as briefly hopeful as I had been that we would get that lucky. In the end, he sighed before pressing on. ¡°He said the van was anonymous enough he¡¯d just park it somewhere, sleep, and keep moving around. Not as good as his apartment, but, well, he expected to get a lot of money soon anyway.¡±


    ¡°Which is why he wanted a safe way to contact his buyer,¡± I murmured, wondering who said buyer was. I already knew that he had no intention of actually giving Blackjack the medicine, so who else would he be selling it to? Did he have someone else on the line, or was this just about calling the La Casa leader and making him think he was going to sell the stuff to him?


    Fred was nodding. ¡°Yeah, I gave him one of the phones the kid fixed up. They tap into the nearest cell network without actually needing to have an account or anything, and they¡¯re supposed to be untraceable. Well, close enough, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I muttered. ¡°So you gave him a van he can completely disappear with, and a phone he can¡¯t be traced by. Anything else? Did you give him an invisibility cloak by chance, or maybe a giant robot mecha he can sic on anyone who comes after him?¡±


    ¡°If I had any of those,¡± the man shot back with a somewhat red-faced look, ¡°that guy would¡¯ve had to pay a hell of a lot more than he did for them, got it?¡±


    Ignoring that, I pressed, ¡°Do you have any way of tracking the phone or the van that you gave him? Anything that could help narrow it down more than ¡®a van somewhere in a parking lot¡¯?¡±


    Fred started to shake his head, only for Wren to interrupt with, ¡°Yes.¡± As both of our gazes snapped to her, she amended, ¡°I mean, I can. I can make something that can find him.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯ll do it,¡± her uncle started, already seeing dollar signs. ¡°In exchange for¨C¡±


    ¡°In exchange,¡± the girl interrupted, ¡°for everything you¡¯ve done already. And to help that other girl you were talking about. That was real, right?¡± She squinted at me. ¡°There really is a girl?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yes, there is. And she¡¯s going to die if we don¡¯t get that medicine to her soon.¡± Pausing, I added, ¡°Not to mention, her father is a very dangerous man, and if his daughter dies, he¡¯s going to be really pissed off. I don¡¯t think anyone wants to see him that angry and¡­ grieving. The city would¨Cumm¨Cwell let¡¯s just say it wouldn¡¯t be a nice time to live here.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if Fred totally took my meaning, but his niece did. Swallowing, Wren met my gaze before nodding. ¡°I have to get to my backup lab. And then work a few things out. But I¡¯ll make something to track the other van, I promise. Um, here.¡± As she spoke, the girl moved a few fingers over the watch that she wore, before a tiny compartment on the front of the contraption that held her wings popped open and what looked like an incredibly thin metal arm about as wide around as a straw with a claw at the end came out. It was holding a card, which I took and glanced at. There was an address typed into the middle of it.


    ¡°Come there tomorrow morning¨C¡± Wren started. ¡°Wait, you have school, right? School is a thing?¡± When I slowly nodded, she amended, ¡°Come tomorrow afternoon. I¡¯ll have it ready, I promise. I¡¯ll have something for you to track that guy.¡± Her expression, previously firm and determined, softened a little. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry that the stuff I built led to all this.¡±


    For all his faults, Fred looked guilty at that, flinching as his niece clearly showed how bad she felt about all this. With a sigh, he glanced away before taking a breath. ¡°Right, yeah, okay. We¡¯ll get it built.¡± Looking back to me, he nodded once, a little more firmly. ¡°We¡¯ll get it done. I uhh¡­¡± He mumbled the last bit. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know it would end up like this. I just wanted a good payout and no one was supposed to get hurt. It was just stealing something out of a bank, for fuck¡¯s sake.¡± His words were plaintive, and sounded like he was trying to convince himself.


    The thought of waiting most of another day while Blackjack¡¯s kid was out there still dying and all the gangs in the city went nuts trying to find Ashton didn¡¯t exactly fill me with warm fuzzies. But on the other hand, I also didn¡¯t have much of a choice. Biting back the impatience, I instead asked, ¡°Are you sure this other lab of yours is safe?¡± Waving the card, I added, ¡°I mean, are you sure none of those guys who went to the shop can find it? It¡¯s not written down anywhere in there? Believe me, they¡¯ll be thorough when they search the place, and if they find anything that could point them to your new place¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Wren assured me, ¡°there¡¯s nothing written down about it.¡± She shrugged then, ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be much of a secret lab if we left the address lying around, would it?¡±


    ¡°I suppose not,¡± I murmured, looking to the address again. The ink on the card looked fresh enough that I was pretty sure she¡¯d actually printed it up right then, inside her flight harness.


    ¡°I just hope they don¡¯t hurt Dad¡¯s shop too much,¡± the girl was muttering, looking at the asphalt under our feet with an unhappy frown at the thought of what those guys were probably doing back there. ¡°I had everything the way I wanted it, and they¡¯re probably¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll clean it up,¡± Fred interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. He really did look guilty about what he¡¯d done and where it had all led. ¡°Get this taken care of so those shits back off, and we¡¯ll go clean everything up. We¡¯ll put it back the way it was. Only better.¡±


    Leaving them to it, I promised to come by after school before heading off. Home. I was going home. There was nothing else I could do about this whole situation right now, as much as I might¡¯ve wanted to. Besides, after being chased by Cu¨¦lebre and nearly pissing myself half a dozen times, all I really wanted to do was take a long, hot bath and get some sleep.


    ******


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    So, I did just that. Making my way home, I spent the rest of the night getting cleaned up, soaking for what was probably an absurdly long time in the bath attached to my room, then fell into my bed and slept. I was dead to the world until Jania woke me up the next morning with the vacuum once more.


    Dad was actually there at breakfast. As I walked in, finding him and Simon engrossed in some private conversation that I never would have paid any attention to a week earlier, they both looked up and fell silent. An instant later, a smile broke across Dad¡¯s face, and he gestured. ¡°Hey there, punkin. Come on over here, let¡¯s have some food together while we have the chance.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I started after freezing up for a second, ¡°I should just grab an orange or something. You know how Jefferson gets if we make him wait. Throws his whole schedule¨C¡±


    ¡°I sent Jefferson on ahead,¡± Dad interrupted, even as one of the cooks put a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon down in front of him. ¡°I¡¯ll be driving you today.¡± Offering me an easy, movie star-caliber smile, he tapped his fork lightly against the glass plate, making it ring. ¡°Come, sit.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Booster,¡± Simon put in while taking his own plate from the cook. ¡°Have some food. Your scrawny little body could use something more substantial than an orange so you don¡¯t blow away in the next stiff breeze.¡±


    Well, what could I say to all that? Suppressing all my first, second, and third reactions to the idea of sitting next to both of them for any length of time, I slipped down into the seat, swallowing slightly as a full plate was set in front of me as well. My hand found the fork, and I took a bite.


    ¡°Right,¡± Dad started slowly, ¡°well, the reason I wanted to take this morning with you¡­¡± He trailed off, head tilting thoughtfully. ¡°I suppose I can¡¯t really call you kids anymore, can I? What about guys? Can I say you guys?¡± He winked at me then. ¡°Or is that not ¡®woke¡¯ enough? Is that the right¨C¡±


    ¡°Guys is fine,¡± I interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s kind of¡­ encompassing anymore.¡±


    Giving a slight nod of acknowledgment, Dad continued. ¡°Okay then, you guys. The reason I wanted to spend the morning with you guys, is because your mother and I are going to be leaving for a few days.¡±


    Well, that got my attention. Almost choking on the food in my mouth, I quickly looked over at him. ¡°Leaving? Why¨Cuhh, what are you leaving for?¡± Why would they go anywhere while the city was falling apart and they were still trying to make sure Blackjack didn¡¯t burn it all down? If they wanted to take us with them, I might¡¯ve thought they just wanted to give up on stopping it and get out of town until it was over. But they would¡¯ve taken us with them at that point, wouldn¡¯t they?


    Dad was already explaining. ¡°There¡¯s some business I need to attend to, and your mother and I would like to spend some time together. We¡¯ll only be a few days, back in plenty of time for the event this weekend.¡± Looking to me, he added, ¡°Jefferson will be taking you to your dress fitting tomorrow, so don¡¯t be late, understood?¡±


    My head nodded slowly, the words coming automatically, ¡°Yes, sir.¡± I was still reeling from the announcement, trying to figure out what was so important that my parents would actually leave the city while Ashton was still out there.


    Then I knew. Ashton was the important thing. My parents weren¡¯t leaving the city at all. They were just going to make it look like they were, so they could focus completely on finding him. They wanted to devote everything over the next few days to tracking the guy down. And it¡¯s not like this would be the first time Dad had been on ¡®business¡¯ without actually leaving the city. I knew for a fact that Silversmith had appeared while my father was supposedly on another continent. This was all just a show for my parents to explain why they weren¡¯t around the house and to cancel all their other appearances in the city. An emergency meeting somewhere far away? Dad would probably claim to be tied up and unreachable for the next few days, just so he could focus one hundred percent of his attention on finding Ashton.


    ¡°Cass?¡± In what sounded like not the first time he¡¯d been trying to get my attention, Simon jabbed me with the end of his fork. ¡°You alive?¡±


    ¡°Ow,¡± I yelped, rubbing my arm. ¡°Y-yeah, I¡¯m fine. I was just thinking about the project I¡¯m doing with Jae and Amber.¡±


    ¡°Jae Baek and Amber O¡¯Connell?¡± Dad raised an eyebrow at me. ¡°The girls you took with you to the club the other day?¡±


    Oh God, the last thing I wanted was for my father to pay too much attention to those two. They were nice, I didn¡¯t need him involving himself in their lives. Still, I managed a slight smile. ¡°Uh huh. We¡¯re just doing a History project together and that was a quiet place to work.¡±


    For a moment, my father met my gaze, before abruptly breaking it as he took another bite of his food. ¡°Good. They seem like a good influence.


    ¡°So long as you¡¯re not hanging around with bad people.¡±


    *******


    From there, I basically went through the motions at school, doing everything I could to make the time pass faster. Despite that, the whole day seemed to drag impossibly, as if the clocks were actually moving backwards now and then.


    Finally, it was mercifully over. Cancelling my ride home with Jefferson once more, I found a private place to change before making my way, in costume, to the address on the card that Wren had given me.


    It was a bookstore. Or, well, it had been a bookstore, before apparently closing quite some time ago, if the dust on the windows and the faded sign out front announcing the going out of business sale was anything to go by. And from the look of things, the rest of the strip mall the place was located in wasn¡¯t doing much better. I was pretty sure a pet grooming place across the lot and a small pizza joint next to that were the only places that were still open. And they weren¡¯t exactly doing a booming business. This whole shopping center had seen better days.


    As I approached the door, there was a ding and it opened automatically. I froze briefly, squinting at it from behind my helmet before giving a shrug. Cautiously, I stepped through.


    ¡°Hi, Paintball!¡±


    Wren¡¯s voice came from a speaker right beside me as I entered, making me jump before she continued. ¡°We¡¯re downstairs. Through the door to your left. Come on down!¡±


    Behind me, the door closed, the lock clicking. Glancing that way, I hesitated before heading through the door that had been indicated. Sure enough, a set of cement stairs was there, and I descended into a wide open unfinished basement room that seemed to take up the entire lot that the store was on. There was, just like the old place, junk piled up everywhere on dozens of tables. In the corner was a ratty old couch and a television, where Fred was watching Wheel of Fortune, apparently content to ignore my presence entirely.


    Wren, on the other hand, popped up from behind a table, tossing something my way. ¡°Here!¡±


    I fumbled, but caught the thing. It was a plastic thing, about the size of a TV remote, with a small screen at one end that had a blue pulsing dot in the middle. ¡°Uhh, what is it?¡±


    ¡°Tracker,¡± she explained excitedly, before hesitating. ¡°I¡­ um, I couldn¡¯t make something that would find that guy automatically. But this will track every time he uses that phone. It¡¯ll start beeping and that dot¡¯ll turn into an arrow, pointing the right way. The closer you get, the bigger the arrow will be. If he stops the call, it¡¯ll still point to his last location, so as long as he doesn¡¯t move too much afterward¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh. Oh!¡± Giving the thing another look, I found a smile before glancing to the girl. She was watching me anxiously, clearly torn between being upset that she hadn¡¯t been able to make something that would automatically and instantly find Ashton, and being proud that she¡¯d managed what she had.


    ¡°Thanks, Wren,¡± I replied firmly, wanting her to settle on the latter. ¡°This is a big help, really.¡±


    Her smile brightened the room. ¡°Yeah? You really think you can find him with it?¡±


    ¡°I sure hope so,¡± I murmured, swallowing as I stared at the blinking dot. ¡°And I hope he uses that phone soon.


    ¡°Otherwise, things are gonna get really bad around here.¡±


    *********


    Hi guys! The following is the first ever Summus Proelium Patreon Snippet. Basically, people who pay $10 or more on Patreon each month get to pick 500 words toward any subject in my stories, or save up their words/combine them with others. Usually these snippets are posted all together as separate chapters, because they tend up toward 5-6 thousand words in length. But because this is the only one for Summus Proelium this time around, I¡¯ve decided to just stick it onto the end of this chapter to avoid confusing things. Thanks again to the donator who chose this, and to all of you!


    As Cassidy and Simon left the dinner table and went their separate ways following their latest family dinner, Sterling Evans took a sip of his wine. He watched his children go before glancing toward his wife with a small smile. ¡°She¡¯s getting too old too fast. Make her stop.¡±


    With a soft, beautiful smile that still made his heart beat faster even after all these years, Elena shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my love. Even we don¡¯t have that kind of power. Nor should we wish for it. Cassidy is growing up, exactly as she should. That¡¯s how these things work.¡± She raised an eyebrow then, pointedly adding, ¡°Besides, you¡¯re the one who allowed her to skip first grade. She¡¯d still be a sophomore if you hadn¡¯t done that.¡±


    ¡°Well, I still don¡¯t like it,¡± Sterling murmured, thinking back to times that seemed like they were only the week before when his beautiful, amazing little girl barely came up to his knee. He remembered her toddling to him, begging to be picked up. It was a thought that brought a smile to his face, before he exhaled. ¡°But if she is growing up, you know that time is coming.¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Elena insisted. ¡°We said we¡¯d wait until she was seventeen. That¡¯s ten months away. Simon was brought into the life too fast, too soon. Cassidy deserves to enjoy her childhood longer. Seventeen, no sooner.¡±


    ¡°Those ten months will fly past,¡± Sterling reminded his wife. ¡°Just like the past sixteen years have. Before we know it, she¡¯ll be ready for the conversation. And when that time comes, we will explain¡­ everything to her. If she can accept it, how our lives work, she can begin her training.¡±


    ¡°And if she cannot¡­¡± Elena prompted, needing to hear her husband say it.


    Sterling sighed. ¡°If¡­ she cannot, we will have her memory of the entire conversation erased. You will convince her to transfer to Danford Academy in the UK for the rest of her education, leading into university there and then whatever career she wishes to pursue. She will be able to visit as much as she wishes, but we will do everything possible to guide her to a life far from here.¡±


    Elena, quiet for a moment as she studied the glass in her hands, finally spoke once more. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ bear even thinking about sending her away at all, not for two years, or six, or¡­ forever.¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be forever,¡± her husband reminded her in a voice that showed just how much he hated the possibility as well. ¡°It¡¯s like I said, she can come back and visit. But if being a part of this life is not¡­ something she could be okay with, she deserves to have as normal of one as possible. With all the opportunities she could possibly need.¡±


    Reluctantly, Elena nodded. ¡°Yes, of course. Cassidy deserves that.¡± She sighed. ¡°No matter how painful it feels.¡± Setting the glass down, she found a smile for the man she adored beyond all reason. ¡°We have time. Ten months. We should enjoy them. Though I am surprised to hear you mention potentially employing our friend to erase Cassidy¡¯s memory so casually, after¡­¡± She trailed off pointedly.


    Clearing his throat, Sterling straightened. ¡°Yes, well, he was entirely too rough with her the first time. He knows he had better treat her delicately now. For his own sake.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Elena graciously agreed, her smile brightening a bit. ¡°And not only because of an overprotective father. I have a feeling our little girl herself would make him regret being so rough.


    ¡°After all, she¡¯s not eleven years old this time.¡±

 Pursuit 4-06

    Apparently Ashton was allergic to making phone calls or something, because the device that Wren had given me didn¡¯t make a peep throughout the rest of that day. I basically sat on a roof alternately playing with my own phone and staring intently at the silent tracker, silently (and not-so-silently) willing it to light up. But there was nothing. This guy was really laying low. He wasn¡¯t making any calls, and until he did, I had no way to find him. One van somewhere in the city? Yeah, the odds of tracking that down just by randomly looking were basically zero.


    So, I had to wait. And wait. And wait some more. I ended up going home with the thing in my pocket, not wanting to take the chance that he might trigger it if I left it behind. I even slept with it under my pillow, one hand on the device so that I would feel it go off.


    And yet, the next morning¡­ nothing. Nothing at all. I went through breakfast with Simon (our parents had ¡®left¡¯ the day before) and then let Jefferson drive me to school. Instead of going in, however, I called from my cell and used an ¡®adult male¡¯ setting on the voice changer to pose as my own father pulling me out of classes for being sick. It was somewhat risky, but being stuck in school when the tracker eventually went off would¡¯ve been even worse. I just had to hope that it would actually go off today, because I couldn¡¯t keep doing that all week.


    All of which led to me hanging out on a roof again, waiting hours for something to happen. I didn¡¯t dare get myself involved in anything else and risk not being able to immediately run off the instant the tracker (please God) went off, so I mostly just sat there doing work in my textbooks or watching people and cars passing by on the street below.


    Right now, being a superhero basically amounted to a lot of boredom. I sat against the wall, I laid on my back, I stood on my hands and practiced walking upside down like that, I did somersaults, cartwheels, and the odd flip or two to pass the time. I even tried (unsuccessfully, of course) to figure out what the pink paint was supposed to do. And I prepped my costume by adding an assortment of paint to it for when the time actually came to chase down my rabbit.


    But mostly I stared at that tracker and prayed that it would do something.


    Then it happened. I was laying on my back, legs draped over the raised lip on the edge of the roof, while listening to music on my phone and daydreaming, when the song was suddenly interrupted by an abrupt, persistent beeping. For a second, I thought something was wrong with the phone. Then I realized the truth and abruptly bolted upright with a yelped curse, falling over myself in a rush to grab the tracker from where it was lying next to me.


    Yes. Yes, yes, yes. The tracker was beeping. The dot had become an arrow, just like Wren said. It was pointing off into the distance, and was¡­ pretty small. So I had a lot of distance to cover.


    I didn¡¯t waste any time with that. Grabbing my helmet and pulling it on (I¡¯d had the mask on the whole time, not wanting to take the chance of someone noticing me), I shoved my backpack out of sight before taking a quick hop up onto the edge of the roof. From there, I checked the tracker once more, then leapt off, shooting out a wad of red paint to yank myself through the air.


    Moving as fast as I could, I rushed across the rooftops, pausing every now and then to check the tracker. The arrow was still flashing, and getting steadily larger. So the phone was still in use. For now. But I had to keep moving. He could hang up any second, and while the tracker would continue to point toward his last position, I didn¡¯t want to take the chance that he¡¯d abandon that spot. This was my best chance to find him again, after I¡¯d screwed up by not having the stay-down handcuffs with me before. If I¡¯d had them, he never would have gotten out of there.


    I wasn¡¯t going to make that mistake again, that was for sure. I had two of the cuffs right with me. The second I found Ashton, he was going to end up wearing a pair of them so he didn¡¯t pull another disappearing act. And I was going to make damn sure there were no more stun bombs.


    Racing across the edge of the roofs, leaping between buildings, running along the side of billboards, I used every trick and power I had to follow the way the arrow was pointing. Unfortunately, after a few minutes, the thing beeped again and the light stopped blinking, indicating that the call had been ended. I cursed, but the arrow was still there, and I pushed myself to run faster. Maybe I could still get there before he went anywhere. Please, please let me get there before he disappeared again. Damn it, damn it, I had to be faster!


    Then the thing started beeping again. I did a quick double-take after landing on the edge of a windowsill. Sure enough, it was active. He was making another call. We were still in business!


    Pushing myself harder, I basically pinballed my way between several close buildings, bouncing from one to the other with a mix of blue and red paint before throwing myself out over a busy street. I came down on top of the trailer for a semi, ran across to the other side, then used red paint to yank myself to a nearby bridge. Landing there just long enough to startle the woman feeding a few squirrels, I blurted an apology while glancing at the scanner, then kept going.


    With every passing block, the arrow was steadily getting bigger. I was close, so close. The second call ended before I reached my target, but a third started not long after. Whoever the guy was talking to, he was making several calls to do it. Maybe shopping the vials around? He could be trying to get more money from the other gangs by offering the medicine to them, so they could sell it to Blackjack themselves. Or maybe he was arranging a trip out of the city, or¡­ anything. There were a whole host of reasons he could be making so many calls, and I was letting myself get too distracted thinking about them. Right now, one thing mattered: getting to him.


    Finally, the arrow took up almost the entire screen. I skidded to a stop at the edge of a supermarket roof, before glancing at the tracker. Yeah, this had to be the place, so I started looking around, scanning the parking lot below as quickly as I could, checking the direction the arrow was pointing and trying to match it to a van.


    Then I saw it. A red van parked about halfway across the lot. My eyes had just centered on it, when I got absolute confirmation in the form of Ashton himself. He was just coming around the side of the van, phone held up to his ear as he was clearly in the middle of an intense conversation on his way into the store.


    Or at least, he was in the middle of an intense conversation¡­ until he looked up. Just as I was reacting to the fact that I had finally found the slippery bastard after losing him the first time, he happened to glance up to the edge of the roof, right where I was standing. His eyes stared right at me, and I saw his mouth move in the approximation of an exaggerated curse of surprise, before clicking off the phone without another word to the person he had been talking to.


    ¡°Ashton!¡± I blurted out loud, attracting the attention of a few passersby while shoving the tracker into the pocket of the coveralls that made up the base of my costume, ¡°stop!¡±


    He, ahh, didn¡¯t. Very much so, in fact. He didn¡¯t stop so much that he actually turned and ran the other way, back to his van. With a curse, I leapt from the roof, shooting a ball of red paint at him. Unfortunately, the paint narrowly missed, hitting the ground at his feet while the man dodged around it and leapt for the van. I tried to shoot another bit of red at the van itself after landing easily on my orange shoes, but nothing happened. Even with the paint that I¡¯d added to my costume earlier, I¡¯d used a lot getting over here. I was drained, at least for a few seconds.


    Worse, Ashton had the van started and was already starting to reverse out of the spot. There was a couple there, however, forcing him to stop short and switch gears to pull forward, up and over the small median there with a loud thunk while the people he¡¯d nearly hit shouted angrily.


    Oh shit, oh shit! He was right there and I was out of paint. But I couldn¡¯t let him get away, paint or no paint. Even as the van¡¯s tires screeched on the pavement, I was running. Not toward the van itself, but in the direction he had to go in order to exit the lot. I sprinted, leaping to slide across the hood of a parked car while several people shouted. On the way over the car, I blurted the command to pop my skates out, landing on my wheels while smoothly pushing off.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    From the corner of my eye, I could see the van tearing off for the exit, cutting off a truck, which blared its horn. He had to swerve around a handful of pedestrian shoppers, leaning on his own horn then before clearly mashing the pedal to the floor. The tires were squealing, and he hit a stray shopping cart on the way, sending it clattering up against the nearby wall.


    I was skating hard for the sidewalk between the parking lot and the street. To the right of the exit was a long wall, and ahead was another building. The only way he could go was left, and that was the direction I was angling, trying to get ahead of the man even as the van tore its way out of the lot and onto the street, tearing up the edge of the grass as he cut the corner.


    Hitting the sidewalk just as Ashton¡¯s van passed straight ahead of me, I opened my mouth to shout at him. Then I saw the gun he was pointing out the window, and hurled myself to the side and down as he opened fire. Bullets. Actual bullets (would I ever stop being terrified of them?) went over my head, several ricocheting off the concrete where I had been standing.


    Fortunately, even as I found myself sprawled out on the grass, Ashton couldn¡¯t adjust his aim. First, because he¡¯d already driven too far past me to have anything resembling a decent angle. And second, because he had to swerve around two more cars who had been trying to turn onto this street. He had to slam on the brakes enough to jerk the wheel, narrowly avoiding one of their hoods as both drivers leaned on their horns. I was pretty sure people in Detroit were not that jaded and the men simply hadn¡¯t seen him using the gun a moment earlier. It was pretty quiet, after all.


    In any case, that moment where he had to slow down to get around them gave me a chance. Scrambling to my feet, I started skating after him once more, just as the van made it past the other cars. Praying silently, I snapped my hand up, focusing on the nearest of the two other vehicles. And in a moment that I swore should have been heralded by trumpets blaring from on high, a wad of red paint shot straight at it. I let the paint hit the hood of the car, using it to yank myself that way, retracting my skates on the way.


    The poor driver had only just looked away from flipping off the rapidly fleeing van as I landed on his hood. I heard him make a sort-of strangled yelp/curse, before putting blue paint under my feet to propel myself high into the air. Extending my hand toward a sign extending out from the nearby roof, I flew that way, releasing the paint in time to shoot past the sign, landing on the edge of the next roof over.


    I was running then, turning my legs green for speed as I raced along the roof after the van. Three steps and I brought my skates out once more, needing every last edge I could get. Ashton was quickly pulling away, but he was at least somewhat slowed by other cars that kept getting in the way, forcing the man to pull onto the wrong side of the street or up onto the sidewalk to get around them. It wasn¡¯t much, but at least it kept him in sight. I was hoping he wouldn¡¯t panic too much if he didn¡¯t see me coming, hence the running and jumping along the roofs.


    Left. He was going left. From the height I had, I could see road construction up ahead. There were cones and workers blocking off that whole area, so he had to go left. Taking a chance, I used blue paint to hurl myself from the roof I was on (which happened to be along the right side of the street), all the way over to the opposite side. Skating diagonally along that roof, I dodged around a random air conditioning unit, hopped a couple pipes, and narrowly ducked under an electrical antennae. But mostly I just kept skating, reaching the corner of that roof and leaping off without even bothering to check where I was going. There wasn¡¯t time. I had one chance to catch up with him enough to make this work.


    Flailing as I dropped through the air, I saw that my guess had been right. The van squealed its way around the corner just as I was falling. If I¡¯d dropped down just a few seconds later, I would¡¯ve landed on the roof of it instead of directly in its path.


    But hey, superpowers. Turning my arms yellow, I made myself fall slower for a moment before cancelling it. The van sped right beneath me as I let myself fall the rest of the way at full speed, changing the yellow sleeves for orange shoes.


    I landed in a crouch, coming down hard on the roof of the van. But, to the credit of the girl who had put it together, there was no apparent damage. I very nearly flew right off the roof, but a quick shot of red paint from both gloves anchored me to it even as Ashton swerved wildly from one side of the street to the other. Which, given the fact that there were no immediate cars in sight, I was going to assume meant he knew I was up here.


    Well, good. Because I wasn¡¯t exactly planning on being subtle about it. This whole thing had gone on long enough. I felt bad for what had happened to Ashton¡¯s friend, but he was taking it too far.


    To that end, I flipped myself up and over just as the red paint ran out, dropping down onto the hood of the van while grabbing onto the space near the windshield. I could see Ashton there, staring at me with wide eyes as he shouted a furious, violent curse about what I could do to myself. His gun came up, and I rolled to the opposite side of the hood as he fired three quick shots through the windshield. Catching myself there, I shot a spray of black paint right across the windshield to block the man¡¯s sight before letting myself slip off the top of the hood, using a bit of red on my gloves to hold myself against the side of it, just above the wheel.


    The van simultaneously swerved back and forth while slowing dramatically, tires screeching in protest. I heard a few more bullets go through the windshield as Ashton tried to shoot it out so he could see, but that wasn¡¯t working very well. He was just putting little holes in it, not enough to see through.


    While he was busy with that, I turned my arm purple and used the strength it provided to grab hold of the passenger side door, breaking the lock as I yanked it open. The door was torn completely free, and I dropped it to crash along the ground before swinging myself into the passenger seat.


    Ashton snapped the gun toward me, but I grabbed the weapon and tore it from his hand. Just as I did, he slammed hard on the brakes, sending me flying backward against the dashboard while my head slammed into the already-damaged windshield. But hey, at least I was wearing a helmet. The gun fell from my grip, and I yelped while the van spun. There was chaos for a moment as the world went wild before finally coming to a dizzying halt. The van had stopped completely, and Ashton was grabbing for the gun on the floor. Just as his fingers closed on it, I recovered enough to grab the nearest thing available, which happened to be the steering wheel. My purple strength was still very much in effect, so when I yanked, the whole wheel came off, snapping away from the steering column. With a grunt, I smacked Ashton in the face with it. The steering wheel hit him hard enough to make the man drop the gun once more, but I still hit him again before grabbing the gun myself with a blurted, ¡°I¡¯m getting really sick of you trying to shoot me, diphthong!¡±


    On the plus side, he didn¡¯t try to grab the gun again. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t surrender either. Instead, Ashton hurled himself out of the van, landing on all fours before kicking the door shut behind him to slow me down as he started to run.


    ¡°Help! Help!¡± he shouted to a few passersby, ¡°he¡¯s trying to kill me! He¡¯s gonna kill me, help!¡± There was blind terror in his voice, enough to make the people turn back to me as I finished scrambling out the other side of the van and made my way around the back of it.


    Running. Ashton was running. So he either had the medicine on him, or knew where it was. Either way, I had to catch him. Ignoring the people blurting questions my way, I sprinted that way, using green paint on my shoes for speed. Ashton was disappearing into an alley, but I got there a couple seconds later, just as he was turning back to me.


    ¡°Stop!¡± he blurted, holding up a vial of some kind in one hand. ¡°I swear, you take one more step, and I¡¯ll throw this against that wall. Then that little brat won¡¯t have a chance! You want that on your shoulders?! Back off! Just back off, damn it!¡±


    I didn¡¯t even slow down. My hand snapped up, and I shot a spray of orange paint, catching Ashton himself, as well as the vial he was holding. It dropped from his hand, but was already invulnerable, bouncing twice on the pavement while the man gasped. Reflexively, he grabbed for the fallen vial, but I was there, launching myself into a full jump kick that planted both of my feet into his stomach. He doubled over with a cry while I landed on my side, panting.


    Recovering as fast as he could, Ashton stumbled to his knees before grabbing for the fallen vial once more. But I was ready, using green paint to speed myself up enough to slap the stay-down handcuffs across his wrists.


    The cuffs activated instantly, yanking the man fully to the ground as he screamed in a mixture of what sounded like terror, frustration, and hatred. He was cursing and spitting, struggling to stand up again even as the cuffs rooted him down. He was a normal guy, there was no way he could fight against them.


    ¡°Let me go, you stupid cocksucker!¡± the man shouted. ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯re doing, who you¡¯re helping?! He killed my friend! He killed him! It was his fault! He has to pay, God damn it! He has to pay!¡±


    He was practically foaming at the mouth, struggling and jerking against the cuffs. His face was red, his eyes wild. I¡­ I actually almost felt sorry for him.


    ¡°What happened to your friend matters,¡± I told the man quietly. ¡°But you can¡¯t just let a little girl die because you¡¯re angry. You¨C¡±


    My words were interrupted by a loud voice. ¡°You see guys, I toldja.¡± As my gaze snapped up, I saw the whole mouth of the alley full of men. Armed men. There were at least seven or eight of them, all pointing guns my way. They were dressed like members of the Ninety-Niners. The man who was talking was near the front, his pistol pointed my way. ¡°We follow the paint guy, we find the vials. Just like I said. Piece o¡¯cake.¡±


    The man was a black guy just under six feet tall, with a shaved head aside from a thin strip of hair right down the middle of his head. His mouth was full of silver and gold teeth, which he showed off while smiling at me. ¡°So, you gonna hand over that little prize?


    ¡°Or do we have to get naughty?¡±

 Pursuit 4-07

    My orange paint could stand up to a good bit of damage. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t stand up to eight guys all shooting me at the same time. That seemed slightly out of its range. And I for sure didn¡¯t want to chance it right now.


    On the other hand, I also couldn¡¯t let these guys take Ashton. If I did, it would basically be handing a death sentence to Blackjack¡¯s daughter and probably him as well. Or giving the Ninety-Niners the ability to force La Casa to do anything they said in order to save her life. Either one was unacceptable.


    To buy myself time to think, I did the only thing that came to mind. I snarked.


    ¡°Hey, guys! Good job following the scavenger hunt so far. But, you know, I kinda already claimed this ¡®guy named Ashton¡¯ so you¡¯re kind of going to have to go find your own. I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s a country club like five blocks that way, and there should be like five of them there.¡±


    The guy who had spoken before raised his pistol a bit to point at my head, making me gulp slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve got a better idea, how about you bounce on out of here and we take our prize?¡±


    So much for buying time to think. I had to do something, and I had to do it right now. But what? How was I supposed to¡ª


    Without warning, two of the guys were suddenly yanked off the ground. They yelped, as a figure became partially visible behind them, holding both up by their necks. The thing holding them wasn¡¯t easy to make out. It seemed to blend in pretty well with the area around it, like some kind of super camouflage. But from what I could see, it didn¡¯t look human.


    With a roar that pretty well cemented the not human bit, the strange figure hurled the two men in opposite directions to collide with either wall of the alley. They fell and didn¡¯t get up again.


    Meanwhile, the other six guys all rounded toward the almost invisible figure, their weapons going up. Before they could shoot, however, something dove out of the sky with a loud, terrifying screech. I barely caught a glimpse of the thing as it crashed into one of the men and yanked his gun away. It looked like some kind of lizard with feathered wings.


    Then something rushed past me, I just had time to jerk aside reflexively, my eyes snapping down to see another terrifying shape. This one stood about three feet tall at the shoulder, and looked like a sort of hairless, scaled cat. Or, more to the point, like a tiger with scales instead of fur.


    The men were still reacting to the sudden appearance of the half invisible tall figure and the bird. So they were taken completely by surprise as the hairless cat thing leapt at them from behind, knocking the leader to the ground with a petrifying roar.


    Then it all stopped. The six men who were still conscious were all clumped up in a circle, while the lizard-cat and the half-invisible thing remained on either side of them. The ¡®bird¡¯ was perched up on the end of a fire escape, giving a sharp screech while the thugs all looked in every direction in a panic, clearly unsure if they should start shooting or not.


    ¡°You know,¡± a voice drawled, as a figure (this one actually human) stepped into view from around the corner, ¡°I think they want you to drop your weapons.¡± She stopped then, giving me a good look at the newcomer. She wore a leather jacket that was black at the bottom, gradually shifting into green toward the top. The jacket had a hood attached to it, which was up, covering her hair, while her face was hidden behind some kind of black full mask that left no apparent holes for her eyes or mouth, making me wonder how well she could see through it. The effect almost made it look like there was nothing but a black void within the hood. The sleeves of the jacket were almost entirely black with a tiny bit of green at the ends to go with the green gloves she wore. Beyond that, she wore black cargo pants and combat boots. A sawed-off shotgun was in her hands.


    ¡°I suggest you do what they want,¡± the masked and hooded girl informed the group while pointing that sawed-off at the men. ¡°Before they get mad.¡±


    As if to add emphasis to her words, a much larger figure suddenly loomed up behind her. It looked like¡­ well, like a goddamn enormous grizzly bear. Only, just like the other creatures, it had scales instead of fur, and a sort-of¡­ mohawk. Like an iguana, I realized. It looked like a bear crossed with an iguana. A Bearguana.


    If the men hadn¡¯t already been freaked out, seeing the enormous fuck-off grizzly lizard (Grizzlizard?) rising into view from behind the girl with the shotgun did the trick. There was a sudden clattering of weapons as they quickly put them down, hands rising into the air.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought,¡± the new girl noted. I couldn¡¯t see her expression through the dark void that was her blank black mask, but I could hear the smirk in her voice. ¡°Tell you what, you start running and don¡¯t stop until you¡¯ve gone ten blocks, and my friends here won¡¯t eat you. Riddles, keep ¡®em honest.¡±


    In response to her words, the bird-lizard thing leapt from its perch with a loud screech. That was echoed by a roar from the bear-lizard, which sent the men scrambling in a blind panic to pick up their unconscious companions before they fled out of the alley and down the street. In a second, they were out of sight, while the bird-lizard flew after them.


    Slowly, I turned my gaze (and my own thankfully hidden open mouth) to the girl. She stood there, watching me before giving a wave as my eyes found her. ¡°Hiya. Name¡¯s Pack. That the guy?¡± She nodded past me, to where Ashton was still thankfully trapped by the stay-down cuffs.


    Shit. Quickly, I moved to stand between the girl and the prone man. As I stepped that way, the bear-lizard growled. It was joined by another bipedal creature that seemed to come out of nowhere. Belatedly, I realized it was the thing that had been semi-cloaked before. This new creature looked more like a gorilla. One which, as with all the others, had been crossed with a lizard.


    ¡°I¨CI¨Cthanks,¡± I somehow managed to stammer past all my confusion. ¡°Thanks for chasing them off. But you still can¡¯t take this guy. I¡­¡± Thinking quickly, I offered, ¡°There¡¯s a reward for him. I¡¯ll let you have it if you help me get the stuff he stole back t¨C¡±


    ¡°To Blackjack?¡± Pack cut me off. ¡°Dude, he¡¯s my boss. I work for him.¡±


    Of all the things she could have said right then (and given how utterly random and strange her sudden appearance had been to begin with, my bar was set pretty high), that was probably the most surprising. I stopped short, head tilting. ¡°You¡­ do? But Pack isn¡¯t¨C err¡­ wait, you mean Pack as in¨C¡±


    ¡°As in pack of cards,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Or pack of animals. See how it works both ways? Seriously, do you? Because it was really hard to come up with a name that actually fit La Casa¡¯s whole gambling term shtick, and I seriously hope it wasn¡¯t too much of a stretch.¡±


    ¡°Hey, bitch,¡± Ashton called from where he was trapped, ¡°anyone ever tell you your boss is a murdering bag of jizz?!¡±


    Rather than respond to the man directly, Pack looked to me. ¡°So yes, that is him.¡±


    ¡°How¡­ how did you¡­ I mean¡­¡± I was trying to come up with the right way to ask the most important question that sprang to mind.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Find you?¡± she finished for me. ¡°I mean, you weren¡¯t exactly subtle. We¡¯ve been searching the city, and Blackjack said that if you looked like you were onto something, we should give you a hand. I saw you, ahh, jump over my head, so I tried to catch up. You¡¯re really fast, you know.¡±


    She nodded past me, to Ashton once more. ¡°If that¡¯s him, we need to get the guy to Blackjack.¡±


    Unthinkingly, I blurted, ¡°No!¡± Which was enough to make the tiger-lizard take a step toward me before Pack put a hand up to stop it. ¡°Wait, Holiday.¡± To me, she spoke more carefully. ¡°Excuse me? Hey, look, if this is about not sharing the reward¨C¡±


    It was my turn to interrupt her. ¡°It¡¯s not about that,¡± I put in quickly. ¡°It¡¯s about¡­¡± Sighing, I lowered my voice a bit. ¡°If Blackjack gets him, he¡¯s going to kill him for endangering his daughter. I can¡¯t do that. I can¡¯t just sentence a man to death. Not even that guy. He¡¯s trying to avenge his dead friend.¡± As she made a noise as though to object, I pushed on quickly. ¡°I¡¯m not saying Blackjack won¡¯t get the medicine. But that¡¯s all he¡¯s getting. I told him that when we¡­ when we spoke. He¡¯ll get the medicine, but not the man.¡±


    As the girl quietly considered that, another lizard poked his head out from where it had apparently been hiding inside her jacket. This one was a regular-looking gecko, head tilting curiously at me before scrambling up onto her shoulder with a quiet little chirp.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Tuesday,¡± Pack murmured before focusing on me. ¡°You get the vials out of that cocksucker and you can mail him to Siberia for all we care. Not like the boss couldn¡¯t get to him wherever he gets sent anyway.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s basically what he said,¡± I muttered under my breath before turning on my heel. Walking over, I picked up the first vial from where it had fallen. Turning the thing over in my hand to make sure it was intact, I stepped over to Ashton and checked through his pockets carefully. Nothing. Well, no vials. He had money, a wallet, a few keys, and some other assorted odds and ends. No more vials.


    ¡°Right,¡± I started, ¡°you heard the nice lady. Where¡¯s the rest of them? You know, if you want to go to the nice comfy jail cell instead of being taken by the guy whose daughter you put in danger.¡±


    With a snarl, the guy retorted, ¡°You mean the guy who¡¯s gonna kill me anyway? Him or one of his lackeys. Her maybe, or one of the others. Nah, I¡¯m not important enough to waste a Touched on. He¡¯ll just tell one of his normal old thugs to put a bullet in me, just like they put a bullet in Carlos. That¡¯s what¡¯ll happen, and I¡¯ll be just as dead as he is.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± I snapped, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your friend. Seriously. But you can¡¯t just let an innocent little girl die because you¡¯re grieving. She didn¡¯t do anything to you. You know what¡¯s going to happen if you let her die? You¡¯ll hurt Blackjack, yeah. But then he¡¯ll take it out on the city, and a hell of a lot more people will die. Do you really want that? Come on. What happened to Carlos was a tragedy. It was. It¡¯s horrible. Don¡¯t make a bunch of other people die in some doomed attempt to settle some kind of vendetta. It won¡¯t help. You won¡¯t feel better. And all the people that die in the war you start will be worse.¡±


    After saying all that, I crouched there by the man. ¡°So come on. Let¡¯s just be done with all this. You don¡¯t want to let all those people die. You¡¯re better than that. I¡¯m sure Carlos would want you to be better than that. He wouldn¡¯t want you to do this, Ashton. Let¡¯s stop this war before it starts and before a lot of people die. What do you say?¡±


    Swallowing visibly, the man met my gaze, softly echoing, ¡°What do I say?¡± For a moment, he was quiet, before lifting his chin, gaze hardening.


    ¡°I say fuck ¡®em.¡±


    His words made my mouth fall open, as I stared at him. ¡°What¡­ you can¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Holiday,¡± Pack started, ¡°why don¡¯t you bite his leg off. See what he thinks then.¡±


    Immediately, the large lizard-cat thing stalked toward the man while giving a low growl. As it came, Ashton¡¯s gaze shot back to me. ¡°You see? That¡¯s the kind of people he works with.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± I snapped, ¡°you just said ¡®fuck ¡®em¡¯ about both a little girl and an entire city full of innocent people. The moral high ground is pretty much Mount Everest to you right now.¡±


    I did, however, hold up my hand to the nearby girl. ¡°But wait, just wait a second, please.¡±


    Her face was still entirely hidden, of course. There was nothing visible under that hood save for that black void. But she finally exhaled and spoke a single word of, ¡°Wait.¡± At that, the lizard-cat stopped just a foot or so from the man, letting out a low, dangerous growl.


    ¡°We have one vial,¡± I started, once it was clear that Ashton wasn¡¯t about to have his leg gnawed on just yet. ¡°How many are left?¡±


    ¡°Five,¡± Pack replied. ¡°There were six in that box. The girl needs all of them.¡±


    ¡°How long can she last with one of these?¡± I asked then while holding up the vial.


    There was a brief pause before the girl slowly answered, ¡°A month.¡± She was clearly looking straight at me. ¡°You¡¯re going to suggest we take the vial and use the month to convince Cheerful here to give up the other five.¡± Before I could say anything to that, she pointed out, ¡°You know Blackjack could get it out of him a lot faster than you or the cops could.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Could he, though? He hates your boss enough that knowing how much it hurts him, he could probably stand a lot.¡± And I don¡¯t want to think about just what Blackjack would put him through in the process, I thought to myself silently, with a little shudder.


    Flatly, Pack asked, ¡°Do you have a better idea?¡± She was very clearly staring intently at me, even from behind that featureless mask. Not only that, but all her lizard-creature things were staring at me too, including Riddles, who had returned after making sure the other guys kept running.


    Heaving a long sigh, I looked at the prone, captured man for a moment. ¡°We have the first vial. That¡­ that buys time. What we need is¡­¡± I paused before smiling. ¡°What we need is something that can make him tell the truth.¡±


    I could practically hear her raised eyebrow. ¡°Do you have something like that?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I replied, ¡°but I know a certain inventor that might be able to whip something up, given a little time. And¡­ I¡¯m also pretty sure they can help me keep him contained for awhile.¡±


    ¡°You mean away from Blackjack,¡± the girl pointed out.


    I sighed. ¡°And away from the cops.¡± There was no choice. Not only did I have serious concerns about the actual state of the authorities themselves with my father posing as one of the biggest heroes in the city, but even if they weren¡¯t compromised, I couldn¡¯t see them just handing over that medicine to Blackjack without trying to get something out of him. Like, say, his surrender. As much as I hated to think it, I didn¡¯t trust them not to play games with the girl¡¯s life. Even if they thought it was for the greater good.


    Shaking that off, I continued. ¡°Like I said, he can have the first vial. I¡¯ll tell him¡­ I¡¯ll tell him to give me two weeks to get the rest of the vials out of this guy. Two weeks. That¡¯s half the time this single vial buys us.¡± Looking over to Pack, I added, ¡°I found the guy in just a couple days, and one of the vials. Your boss can give me two weeks with him to get the rest of them.¡±


    She didn¡¯t offer an opinion on that. Instead, the girl held a hand out. ¡°I¡¯ll take it to him.¡±


    I started to hand it over, then stopped. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t actually have any proof that you really work for Blackjack, do I? Not to call you a liar or anything, but you¡¯ve gotta admit, it would be pretty dumb of me to hand this over when I¡¯ve never seen you do anything with La Casa. I¡¯ve never even heard of you before.¡±


    She coughed, offering a shrug and a muttered, ¡°I¡¯m pretty new.¡±


    ¡°All the same,¡± I replied, ¡°I think I¡¯ll give the vial to Blackjack myself, after we get this guy somewhere safe and out of the way.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Pack took a step toward me, while both the big bear-lizard and gorilla-lizard things flanked her. With those two on either side of the girl and the predatory cat-thing in front of her, I really didn¡¯t want to piss her off. She stopped there, looking my way while repeating, ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m going with you. I want to see this inventor so I can tell my boss myself that they can pull off this whole ¡®getting the truth out of him¡¯ thing. That¡¯s the deal. I go with you, we see this inventor, and then we take that vial to Blackjack. Then I can tell my boss that I did my¡­ you know, due diligence, or¡­ whatever.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t really argue with that too much, so I instead offered a shrug. ¡°They might have something to say about all that, but let¡¯s find out.¡±


    Wren had told me before I left her earlier that she wanted to do anything she could to help save that little girl, and that I should call the number she gave me if I needed anything. Praying that she really meant all that (while wondering just how bad this whole ¡®illegal imprisonment¡¯ thing was going to look if it got out), I took the phone from my pocket and hit the contact number on it. As it rang, I glanced over to Pack. ¡°Oh, and uhhh¡­ just for the record¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s your turn to wear a bag over your head.¡±

 Interlude 4A - Wren

    ¡°Hey, kid.¡± A foot nudged Wren Donovan¡¯s leg as the nine-year-old lay on a wheeled creeper board underneath a sedan. With a flashlight in her mouth and tools in both hands, the girl hesitated. She really didn¡¯t like to interrupt her work when she was on a roll. Especially when the person interrupting her was someone she wasn¡¯t exactly super-happy with at the moment.


    The nudge came again. ¡°Come on, kid, I¡¯ve got pizza inside. You¡¯ve gotta eat.¡±


    That did it. She might¡¯ve been upset with Uncle Fred for giving that bad guy the stuff he needed to hurt that girl, but pizza was pizza. Besides, he didn¡¯t mean for things to go that way. Pushing her feet down, she rolled herself out from under the car and blinked up at the man while spitting out the flashlight. ¡°Pepperoni?¡±


    ¡°Extra pepperoni with more pepperoni on the side just in case they don¡¯t get the message, just the way you like it,¡± Uncle Fred assured her, reaching down to offer both hands to the girl. She took them with her own grease-covered fingers, and he grimaced a little before pulling her up to her feet. They were standing in the back alley area behind the ¡®bookstore¡¯ that served as the entrance to her back-up lab. The rear door into the store itself was standing open, and she could already smell the promised pizza beyond. It was quickly making her mouth water.


    ¡°Uh uh,¡± Uncle Fred stopped her with a hand. ¡°You go wash your hands first. Soap and water.¡±


    ¡°Yeaaaah yeah,¡± Wren grumbled a bit. Not because she actually wanted to taste oil and grease while she was eating, but for the principle of the thing. Heading off quickly, she thoroughly scrubbed her hands in the small restroom attached to the store before going back. Fred had taken the pizza downstairs to the lab by that point, and she followed her nose that way.


    Once the girl had filled a plate with food, she made her way to the couch to watch cartoons, switching the channel away from whatever daytime courtroom drama had been playing as she settled in to scarf hungrily at the food. Watching Pearl, Amethyst, and the other Gems was much more interesting than people complaining about someone stealing their dog or breaking their window or whatever. She could see her uncle watching her from nearby, but waited until a commercial before she addressed him. ¡°Are you mad at me, Uncle Fred?¡±


    ¡°Mad at¨C¡± The man sighed, moving around to sit on the nearby chair. ¡°Kid, I was trying to figure out how angry you were at me. I mean, I did sort of really fu¨Cscrew things up back there.¡±


    He was right. He had screwed things up, and a girl was in trouble because of Wren¡¯s inventions. But¡­ she supposed he hadn¡¯t meant to make that happen. Thinking through all that as she silently munched her pizza, Wren finally swallowed and looked back to him. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m mad at you. You were a jerk and you did what I said not to just because you thought you knew better. A girl is really in trouble, Uncle Fred, cuz of my stuff.¡±


    The man winced. ¡°I¡­ I know. I¡¯m sorry, kid. You¡¯re right. I didn¡¯t think it¨CI didn¡¯t think. That¡¯s not an excuse. I royally screwed up.¡±


    Meeting his gaze, Wren slowly nodded. ¡°Everyone messes up sometimes.¡± Her brow furrowed, and she added pointedly, ¡°But no more selling any of my stuff without telling me, okay? If my stuff gets someone killed, I couldn¡¯t¡­¡± She stopped, biting her lip while staring at the food on her plate before finishing with an awkward, ¡°Just tell me. And no means no. You¡¯re the adult, but they¡¯re my inventions.¡±


    ¡°You got it,¡± Fred promised, taking a slice of pizza for himself from the nearby table before asking, ¡°You ahh, mind telling me what you¡¯re planning to do with that car out there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet,¡± Wren admitted. ¡°Mostly just trying to get it running again. Then I was thinking about making a Transformer.¡± She said that just to watch her uncle choke on his food, snickering to herself before amending, ¡°Or maybe I¡¯ll just make it go faster.¡±


    While Uncle Fred was still trying to react to that, the phone rang. Dropping her plate next to herself on the couch, Wren dove for it, grabbing the receiver before hitting the button. ¡°Mllohn?¡±


    Right, food. Chewing her pizza hurriedly before swallowing, she tried again. ¡°Hello?¡±


    There was a brief pause, before she heard a by-now-familiar voice, ¡°Wren, that you?¡±


    ¡°Hi, Paintball!¡± Grinning at the sound of the boy¡¯s uncertain words, Wren found herself nodding pointlessly while hurriedly blurting, ¡°Did you find that guy you were looking for? Did he have the things he stole? Oh, oh, did you save that girl? Is she okay? Did her dad say thank you? Is he still a bad guy? Are you gonna¨C¡±


    A hand touched the back of her head, as Uncle Fred stood behind the couch. ¡°Maybe let the kid answer one of the questions at a time, huh?¡± he suggested before taking a bite of his pizza.


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Turning her attention back to the phone, Wren settled on a simple, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    She could hear Paintball chuckle just a little. ¡°Hi, Wren. Yeah, um, we sort of¨Cyeah, we have the guy and one of the medicine vials. But I was kind of wondering if we could bring him over there for awhile so we can figure out how to get the location of the rest of the stuff out of him. I know it¡¯s a lot to ask, but your place is hidden and I don¡¯t exactly have much in the way of options.¡±


    As he finished saying that, another voice spoke up, saying something that Wren couldn¡¯t catch. Then Paintball¡¯s voice came back, ¡°Yeah, I know your boss would take him off my hands. Call me crazy, I don¡¯t really want to be responsible for sending this guy to be tortured and executed.¡±


    ¡°Uh,¡± Wren had to put in, ¡°tortured and executed?¡± From the corner of her eye, she saw Uncle Fred do a double-take while silently echoing her last words. His face looked funny that way, and she had to restrain a giggle. Giggling after saying tortured and executed was probably bad.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± Paintball quickly replied. ¡°That wasn¡¯t¨Cnever mind. The point is, could we bring him over to your place until we figure this out? The um, one of¡­ ahh, one of Blackjack¡¯s people wants to come with to make sure he won¡¯t get away and to see how we might get the truth out of him without her boss taking fingers and toes.¡±


    The person with Paintball spoke again, and that time Wren clearly heard, ¡°Ehh, mood he¡¯s in, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯d start with a full hand and just work his way out from there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure, bring him.¡± Wren said those words while giving her uncle a brief glance and an exaggerated thumbs up together with a wide smile to show him that it was all okay. ¡°Wait, can you get him here?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s actually the other thing,¡± Paintball reluctantly replied. ¡°Things could get pretty nuts out here if people see this guy, so I don¡¯t exactly want to go walking down the street with him.¡±


    Before the boy could continue, Wren brightly put in, ¡°That¡¯s okay, Uncle Fred can come get you.¡±


    ¡°He can?¡± The exact same words came from both Paintball over the phone and Fred himself from right beside the girl.


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Wren covered the receiver and gave her uncle a sharp look. ¡°Dead. Little. Girl.¡±


    The man sighed, slumping a bit before waving his hand acceptingly. ¡°Just tell me where to go.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Paintball? He¡¯ll be there. Just tell us where you guys are.¡± Wren grinned. ¡°See? You totally found the bad guy. I knew you would. Did the remote thing help a lot? Where was he? Did he fight you when you found him? Did you hit him really hard? Did he run away? Did you¨C¡±


    The phone was plucked from her hand, as Uncle Fred spoke. ¡°Where are you? Huh? Yeah, got it. Bring a what? And¨Cis there room in the car for a cage? A cage of lizards, as in multiple lizards? What kind of¨Cnever mind. I¡¯ll be there.¡± Disconnecting, the man dropped the phone and heaved a sigh while heading for the exit, grumbling, ¡°Car full of lizards, gonna ruin the upholstery. Never gonna get the smell out. Could¡¯ve moved to Florida, but nooo.¡±


    As he left, Wren helpfully called, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they have lizards in Florida too, Uncle Fred!¡±


    *******


    ¡°Wait, so you weren¡¯t kidding about your tech expert being a nine-year-old?¡± The girl who stood there in the main room of the upstairs bookstore, staring at Wren, wore a black and green leather jacket with a hood that covered her hair, her face hidden by a full black mask that didn¡¯t even have any eye or mouth holes.


    Wren wasn¡¯t offended. She was pretty used to that kind of reaction from anyone who found out that she was the one who built things back at the shop. Instead, she focused on the cage in the girl¡¯s hands, blurting, ¡°Oh wow, you really do have lizards! They¡¯re so cute!¡±


    Head tilting, the lizard girl paused briefly before nodding. ¡°Yeah, okay, I like her.¡± Setting the cage down, she extended a hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Pack. So you¡¯re the genius, huh?¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°I just like building really cool things,¡± Wren informed her while accepting the hand with both of hers. She shook it excitedly before blurting, ¡°How come you¡¯re a bad guy?¡± That time, it was both Paintball and Uncle Fred who choked and gave her surprised looks. Which was silly. Why did adults act so weird about actually asking the important questions or just saying what they meant?


    If she was offended or whatever, Pack didn¡¯t act like it. She just shrugged. ¡°Law never really did anything for me, so I don¡¯t see why I should care that much about it. All the authorities have ever done is break up my family, take away my friends, repossess my stuff, throw us out in the street because we couldn¡¯t pay rent, shit¨CI mean stuff like that. Not like I¡¯m going around getting innocent little girls killed like some people.¡± With those words, she shot a look toward the handcuffed man nearby. ¡°There¡¯s levels of bad, y¡¯know?¡±


    Wren blinked twice, thinking that through for a moment. It sounded wrong, but she wasn¡¯t sure how to say it. Instead, the girl simply turned to Paintball with a grin. ¡°You really found him!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, thanks to your thing,¡± the boy replied before gesturing to the man in question. ¡°So first up, any idea where we can keep him for the time being?¡±


    ¡°You dumb shits know this is false imprisonment, right?¡± the man demanded. ¡°Some heroes.¡±


    ¡°Some of us don¡¯t claim to be heroes,¡± Pack pointed out. Her expression was hidden behind that full mask, but her voice was dangerous. ¡°And some of us have a boss that would really rather we take you to him instead of leaving you here. If you¡¯d prefer that, it can be arranged.¡±


    Wren was pretty sure the guy didn¡¯t want that, considering how quick he stopped talking. She looked back to Paintball, pointing to the stairs. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll show you! There¡¯s a room. I was setting it up for another lab, a uhh, soundproof one for little explosions and stuff. But it¡¯ll work. Wait, he doesn¡¯t have any powers, does he?¡±


    ¡°Other than being a giant pain in the ass to track down?¡± the boy replied before shaking his head. ¡°Nope. Not as far as we know, anyway. And I¡¯m pretty sure he would¡¯ve used them by now if he had anything. We searched him pretty thoroughly. No more weapons or tools. And no phones besides the one I was tracking.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget, also no vials,¡± the man pointed out with a tiny sneer. ¡°And you¡¯re not getting them.¡±


    Ignoring him, Wren led the group, with Uncle Fred bringing up the rear, down the stairs to the private area, then to a mostly-hidden door in the back. She fumbled in her pockets briefly, managing to bring out a small remote, which she pointed at the door. There was a beep as she pressed a button on it, and the door slid open.


    ¡°It worked!¡± Wren blurted despite herself. Oh boy, that was perfect timing. The thing had been sticking for the past¨CThe girl stopped, blinking over her shoulder at the assembled group. ¡°I mean¡­ he can go inside there.¡± She pointed into the room, which was basically a twenty-foot by twenty-foot square with blank walls, since she hadn¡¯t moved anything in there yet. ¡°We can get a mattress and a blanket or something for him, and some books. Oh, and we have pizza, and¨C¡±


    Paintball guided the man past Wren into the room, looking around for himself before pointing. ¡°Just stay put, Ashton. Like she said, we¡¯ll get you some stuff to take care of you. And you know, you could make this whole thing a hell of a lot easier if you just told us where the vials are. Do that, and I think I could probably talk Blackjack into letting you walk away from all this.¡± He paused, looking over to Wren and the others before turning back to amend, ¡°Or at least give you a head start.¡±


    Paintball closed the door before giving the man a chance to reply, letting out an audible breath before looking over to Wren. ¡°Thanks for helping take care of that guy. And um, I really hate to impose even more, but¨C¡±


    ¡°You want something that can make him tell you where the stuff is, right?¡± Wren blurted, unable to keep quiet any longer. ¡°I can¡¯t make a telepathy thing. I mean, I¡¯m pretty sure I can¡¯t. I¡¯ve never really tried, but I thought about it for awhile and I couldn¡¯t think of anything. Usually it¡¯s really easy to think of things. So I don¡¯t think I can do mind reading stuff.¡±


    Setting the cage with her lizards down, Pack asked, ¡°Can you do something to make sure that whatever he says is the truth?¡±


    ¡°Like a Poliwag?¡± Wren started before frowning to herself. ¡°Wait, that¡¯s not right. That¡¯s¨Cpolygraph!¡± She blurted that while raising a hand in triumph. ¡°Nailed it! Polygraph. I¡­ maybe can make a polygraph? I think. Wait, hold on. Gimme a second.¡± She spun on her heel to start away, stopping in mid-step to look back over her shoulder. ¡°I mean, gimme a sec to plan something, not to actually make the thing. I¡¯m not that fast. Okay, just a sec.¡±


    With that, Wren sprinted over to one of her tables of junk, dumping out a box before frantically moving parts and tools around. ¡°Uncle Fred!¡± she called, ¡°where¡¯s Linus?¡±


    The man didn¡¯t need to be told any more than that. He simply stepped over to one of the other tables, dug around in a box until he had a tiny screwdriver with tape over the handle and a happy face drawn on that tape, and handed it to her.


    ¡°Hi, Linus!¡± Wren held the tool up so she could see the bright smile she had drawn on it. ¡°We¡¯re gonna figure out how to make somethin¡¯, okay?¡±


    She set to work then, mumbling to herself as she moved parts around, undoing pieces of equipment with the help of Linus, Charlie, and Marcie. The latter two were her favorite wrench and pliers, respectively.


    It took about fifteen minutes. From the corner of her eye, she could see Paintball and Pack sit down to watch the TV, while Uncle Fred went to get that mattress, a blanket, and a few other things. Once that stuff was in the room with the prisoner guy, Paintball stepped in and came out a minute later with the cuffs that had been on him before returning to his seat.


    Through it all, Wren kept working. She didn¡¯t want to tell them she knew what to make until it was definitely clear that she could do it. Grabbing a sheet of blueprint paper and a pencil, she scrawled on it for a few minutes, crossing things out and erasing until she had the right idea. It was a bit of a mess, but she¡¯d clean it up later.


    Finally, she had enough. Checking her calculations one last time, Wren grinned excitedly while pumping her fist. ¡°Gardyloo!¡±


    ¡°Gardy-what?¡± Pack, jumping from her seat at the sound, stared at her.


    ¡°Um, gardyloo,¡± Wren hesitantly explained while blushing a little. ¡°It¡¯s um, it¡¯s something they used to say a long time ago in Scotland when they were throwing the, umm, slop from the windows out to the street. I just think it¡¯s a funny word, so when I figure things out, I say it instead of eureka. Everyone says eureka. Nobody says gardyloo.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Shrugging, the lizard girl gave her a thumbs up. ¡°Well gardyloo to you too. You figured out what to do, then?¡±


    Head bobbing quickly, Wren explained, ¡°Uh huh. I can totally make something that¡¯ll work. See?¡± She held up the sketch she had made of an armored suit.


    ¡°What am I looking at?¡± Paintball asked, stepping that way to squint at the drawing of the armor. ¡°You¡­ uhh, you want us to build a suit that can beat the information out of him? Because that¡¯s not exactly the way I was hoping we¡¯d go.¡±


    In response, Wren grinned at him, tapping the paper. ¡°Nah, silly. The suit is for him.¡±


    Paintball stared at her. ¡°Okay, um, I think you might¡¯ve been confused on the goal here. The point is to get him to tell us where he hid the vials, not give him a suit of armor.¡±


    Giggling, Wren glanced toward the snickering Pack before shaking her head. ¡°The suit isn¡¯t about protecting him, it¡¯s about making him move around. See, the helmet there plugs into his neck and his head. If he¡¯s wearing the suit and you make him start thinking about where the vials are, the helmet will translate his thoughts into movement, and make him go that way. All you have to do is follow.¡± She was grinning brightly. ¡°See, it¡¯s like trying not to think of a pink elephant. He doesn¡¯t have to tell you where the medicine is. Just make him think about where it is and his body¡¯ll go there. He can¡¯t stop it.¡±


    ¡°Oh. That¡­¡± Paintball trailed off. ¡°That¡¯s really cool, Wren. Yeah, you know, I think that just might work. And hey, you made it fit into that whole ¡®movement¡¯ theme.¡±


    Blushing, Wren kicked at the floor and shrugged self-consciously. ¡°It makes things a lot easier to build if I design them around that. But it¡¯ll take me about a week to make it. And I¡¯ll need some special supplies. I¡¯m not sure what yet, but¡­ definitely things I don¡¯t have here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of anything you need,¡± Paintball quickly assured her. ¡°And a week¡­ should be okay, right?¡± He looked over at Pack.


    She, in turn, shrugged. ¡°Dunno. I¡¯m gonna have to call the boss and clear all this just to be sure. We¡¯ve got the one vial, so that should keep the kid okay for a month, but he¡¯s not gonna wait that long.¡±


    ¡°Two weeks,¡± Paintball replied. ¡°Like I said before, just tell him we need two weeks to get the truth out of Ashton. If Wren can build something to make him talk, we can get the rest of the medicine before she¡¯s ever in danger again.¡±


    Once more, Pack shrugged. ¡°Like I said, gotta call the boss. He¡¯s the final say on all this.¡±


    ¡°Use this phone.¡± Standing beside her, Fred offered the girl one. ¡°It can¡¯t be tracked, so they won¡¯t know where you¡¯re calling from. Just like you don¡¯t know where you are.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha.¡± Taking the phone, the girl stepped away, stopping by the cage to take one of her lizards out, setting him on her shoulder. Then she dialed the phone and moved to a corner of the room, murmuring quietly. After a minute of that, she turned and held the phone out to Paintball. ¡°Boss wants to talk to you.¡±


    As the boy took the phone and had his own conversation, Pack returned to stand by Wren. ¡°A week, huh?¡±


    ¡°I can do it,¡± she assured the older girl.


    ¡°If they come to a¡­ an agreement on this,¡± Pack informed her, ¡°it sounds like the boss is gonna want me to stick around here and keep an eye on that jacka¨Cthat guy. You mind if my little friends and me crash in the corner?¡±


    Brightening, Wren shook her head. ¡°Nope, that sounds fun! It can be like a sleepover. I haven¡¯t had any of those in a long time.¡±


    ¡°Huh. A sleepover, huh?¡± Pack considered before shrugging. ¡°Yeah, aight.¡±


    Apparently finished with his call, Paintball disconnected. ¡°Okay,¡± he announced, ¡°ten days. Blackjack wouldn¡¯t agree to two weeks. He said ten days. We¡¯ve got that long to build this thing and get the rest of the vials out of Ashton. Then we ca¨C¡± There was a chime from the boy¡¯s costume, and he dug around inside before coming out with a phone. His face was hidden behind the helmet, but his eyes very clearly widened as he blurted, ¡°Oh shit! I¡¯ve gotta go.¡±


    ¡°Go?¡± Pack echoed, the frown evident in her voice.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna be late getting my dr¡­¡± Trailing off, Paintball coughed. ¡°Late getting my drums.¡±


    Dryly, Pack gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Smooth, totally saved it.¡±


    Looking awkward and fidgety, Paintball cleared his throat. ¡°I¨Cuh, whatever, I¡¯m gonna be late. Call your boss back and tell him to send a car with someone he trusts completely to the public library on Woodward. I¡¯ll give them the vial there. But they better be there quick.¡±


    With that, he was gone, hurrying up the stairs and leaving the building like his pants were on fire.


    Watching the boy go, Wren asked, ¡°Uncle Fred, could you go to the store and get some marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers? We¡¯re gonna make s¡¯mores! And then we¡¯ll tell ghost stories, and watch silly movies, and play music, and truth or dare, and, and, and¨C¡±


    Her excited rambling was interrupted once more by Pack. ¡°Y¡¯know, I¡¯ve thought a lot about how my first official mission as part of La Casa would go.


    ¡°Gotta say, I did not see this coming.¡±

 Interlude 4B - Sterling, Elena, and Blackjack

    ¡°I find it quite rich,¡± the man known as Blackjack slowly announced, ¡°if you pardon the phrasing, that you ask me to be patient with my child¡¯s life on the line.¡± He wore no costume at the moment, his handsome, if worn by worry, face revealed in this private space as he pointedly turned to look toward Elena and Sterling Evans. He met their gazes for a long moment before continuing in a low voice that fairly shook with barely restrained emotion. ¡°Because, as I believe we all know, if it were either of your children¡¯s lives on the line, the streets of this city would already run red with blood as its buildings burned. You would not show the restraint you ask for.¡±


    The three of them stood in a room that might have passed as a personal library, given the shelves of books, plush leather chairs, and an old grandfather clock in the corner. A single, large window took up almost an entire wall, and it was in front of that window that the group stood. The window overlooked a large hospital room far below, giving high overlooking view of the place where the man¡¯s daughter lay being tended to and cared for by several physicians.


    Exchanging brief glances, Sterling and Elena each conveyed an entire conversation¡¯s worth of thoughts in only a moment before the latter spoke up gently. ¡°You¡¯re quite right, Eric. Were it Simon or Cassidy in such condition, we wouldn¡¯t have this kind of restraint. And,¡± she continued even as his mouth opened, ¡°your daughter is just as important as our children. But we would hope that our allies would be there to tell us that acting impulsively would not get what we want.¡±


    ¡°Are we allies, then?¡± Eric asked the two with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Or are you simply here to ensure that you aren¡¯t in danger of losing a major source of funds? Without the taxes paid by La Casa in exchange for operating in your city, just how much would your income fall?¡±


    ¡°Not enough to be worth more than Melissa¡¯s life,¡± Sterling answered, his head nodding toward the young girl visible through the window in the room below. ¡°Eric, we wouldn¡¯t be where we are today without your help. If you didn¡¯t provide that gun, if you hadn¡¯t¨C¡± He stopped, swallowing as memories from so long ago came swirling back through his head before he pushed them aside. Those were memories for another day. Right now, there were more important matters to handle.


    To that end, Sterling breathed out before continuing. ¡°I know that we have grown¡­ apart to an extent over the years. We don¡¯t spend all that much time socializing anymore. But at one time we were close friends. I remember that, and I wouldn¡¯t put our profits over Melissa¡¯s life any more than I would put them over my own children¡¯s. La Casa¡¯s debts are not an issue right now.¡±


    Eric¡¯s mouth opened to retort, but he stopped himself. His own frustrations and feelings of helplessness at seeing the condition of his daughter was coloring his reaction to the Evans¡¯, he knew that. Knowing it didn¡¯t exactly help that much, but it let him stop and breathe for a moment. Finally, he started again. ¡°You know that Cu¨¦lebre and the other gangs are doing everything they can to find Worthy¡¯s vials as we speak. And they aren¡¯t going to give them back.¡±


    ¡°We have expressed to them how much better it would be for everyone involved if they return any of the medicine they happen to come across,¡± Sterling assured him before immediately adding, ¡°And yes, we know they aren¡¯t likely to listen. But we also made certain that some of their underlings heard as well. It¡¯s possible that one of them might come seeking a reward.¡±


    Elena spoke then, in a gentle voice. ¡°Eric, we put everything else on pause to come here and focus on helping Melissa. She¡¯s what matters now, nothing else. We aren¡¯t working on anything else this week aside from getting your daughter the help she needs. Sterling has an entire wing of Seraph Hills working on potential delaying actions to stretch this out. They¡¯ll find something.¡±


    ¡°I promised her mother I would keep her safe,¡± Eric murmured, putting a hand up against the glass window as he stared down at his daughter. ¡°I promised her that Melissa would be okay.¡± He sighed, lowering his head before asking, ¡°You truly think that the Seraphs can figure something out that soon?¡± His voice cracked just a little as he looked over to the pair. ¡°She¡¯s running out of time. And I swear, if we don¡¯t find something in the next day or so, I am going¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, there was a knock at the door. Eric paused, looking to his companions. Elena immediately made a simple gesture with one hand. In response, both she and her husband were sheathed in a holographic illusion disguising them as two completely different people, unremarkable in every way. No one would be able to pick them out of any random crowd.


    ¡°Come,¡± Eric called, once his two guests were sufficiently disguised.


    At his words, the door opened and a costumed figure stepped in. The newcomer wore a black, ruffled silk shirt with dark gold piping, pants that were also dark gold to match that piping, and a mask that consisted of two diagonal bands, one black and one gold, that each covered one side of his face and the opposite eye while leaving his mouth uncovered. The boy, who looked like he was still in high school, held a phone in one hand and started to say something before pausing at the sight of the unknown people in the corner.


    ¡°Eits,¡± Eric, in full Blackjack mode, spoke. ¡°Never mind my guests. What is it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uhh,¡± the boy cleared his throat before focusing. ¡°It¡¯s the new girl, Da¨CI mean Pack, sir. She says that they¨Cthat she¡¯s with that Paintball guy and they have one of the vials. And¨C¡±


    Before he could get any further, Blackjack was already there, taking the phone from his hand. ¡°Pack,¡± he said sharply, ¡°what do you have?¡± He wanted to hear it straight from her.


    As the man spoke quietly and quickly with his subordinate, his voice rising and falling a bit through the short, but intense conversation, Elena and Sterling looked to one another. The latter leaned closer to his wife¡¯s ear, whispering a soft, ¡°That boy is either extraordinarily lucky, or has some manner of access or aspect to his power that we don¡¯t understand yet.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps all three,¡± Elena pondered, patting her husband¡¯s arm. ¡°We will, eventually. No one operates in our city for long without our understanding everything we need to know about them.¡±


    ¡°Not exactly true,¡± Sterling pointed out. ¡°There are those we have no control over. Deicide has never opened up to us. Not to any real extent beyond paying her dues. And Pencil¨C¡±


    ¡°Pencil,¡± Elena snapped, ¡°is a complete psychopath. His entire group is bad enough. Honestly, worshipping one of the Abyssal? But Pencil¡­ he takes it to an extreme. He needs to be put down like the rabid dog he is. The world would be better without him. Certainly more stable.¡±


    Sterling agreed easily. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, love. The man is a monster. But that just adds to my point. We don¡¯t control everyone in this city. Despite our best efforts.¡± He said the latter bit with a small smile, gently squeezing her hand against his own arm. ¡°Some slip through the cracks.¡±


    ¡°Paintball is a lone figure, some little boy playing hero,¡± Elena assured him. ¡°He¡¯s doing some good work, which is fine in the short term. Particularly now, if he¡¯s truly found any of those vials. But we need to know more about him. We need to be ready in case any¡­ pressure needs to be applied in the future. I don¡¯t like having wildcards out there that we know nothing about. Particularly wildcards that have become this effective this quickly. It¡¯s¡­ potentially concerning.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Their conversation was interrupted then, as Blackjack dismissed Eits before looking to the pair, raising an eyebrow as he announced, ¡°You¡¯re talking about the Paintball kid? Well, he just found the guy who stole my daughter¡¯s medicine.¡±


    Husband and wife gave each other brief, sharp looks, Elena dismissing the holographic illusion before Sterling spoke. ¡°Truly? That¡¯s quite remarkable. How did the boy pull something like that off when no one else has managed it?¡±


    ¡°Apparently,¡± Eric replied, ¡°he tracked down the person responsible for¡­ unknowingly¡­ providing some of the material that allowed this Ashton boy to rob the bank to begin with. When informed of the situation, this person assisted in tracking Ashton down. They have him now, along with one of Worthy¡¯s vials.¡±


    ¡°One?¡± Elena echoed in a pointedly curious voice. ¡°They don¡¯t have all of them?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± the man answered softly, his tone making it clear just how hard of a time he was having remaining as calm as he portrayed himself as being. ¡°Apparently they are¡­ working on getting the location of the rest out of Mr. Austin.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not having him brought in to get those vials yourself?¡± Sterling asked. ¡°One way or another?¡± His words made it quite obvious just how he would go about such a thing.


    ¡°Oh, believe me,¡± Eric assured his old friend, ¡°when the time comes, Ashton and I will be having a very long and very final conversation. But¡­ for the time being, I see no need to ignore Paintball¡¯s request that I show restraint. We have one vial, which will be returned shortly. That buys another month of time. Paintball has requested two weeks to get the rest of the vials out of Ashton without my¡­ involvement.¡± He gave the two a sharp look. ¡°I gave him ten days.¡±


    Before he could say anything else, the phone (which he had kept after dismissing Eits) buzzed. The man checked it before answering with a simple, ¡°Blackjack.¡± He paused, listening briefly before replying, ¡°Understood.¡± Disconnecting the call with a flick of his thumb, he pressed a couple more buttons before holding it back to his ear. After a moment, his call was apparently answered, because he spoke rapidly. ¡°Public library on Woodward. Meet the Paintball boy there in the back alley. Take what he gives you and bring it straight here. Be subtle. Be invisible. Do not lose it, or allow anything to damage it. Your life for that vial. Do you understand? Then go.¡±


    Once he disconnected that call, Sterling spoke up. ¡°Someone you trust implicitly?¡±


    ¡°As much as I trust anyone in this life,¡± Blackjack replied simply. ¡°They¡¯ll bring the vial. Melissa will have another month of safety, and be one step closer to being freed from this disease.¡± He stepped closer to the window once more, putting his hand against the glass as he stared down at his child, voice cracking just a little. ¡°I¡¯ll give Paintball the ten days he asked for. He¡¯s earned that much, being the one who found Mr. Austin and the first vial to begin with. I trust that he will find the rest.¡±


    ******


    Some time later, the vial had been delivered. Eric stood holding it carefully between two fingers, marveling at just how unimportant and simple the contents looked when his daughter¡¯s life depended so thoroughly on it. Behind him, Sterling and Elena watched silently.


    ¡°One month,¡± he murmured under his breath. ¡°This vial, this¡­ simple vial will keep her alive for another month. A few more like it, and the disease will be gone forever.¡± Slowly, his hand closed fully around the vial, and he exhaled a bit shakily before speaking again. ¡°Would you like to come with me? I¡¯m sure Melissa would like to see you.¡±


    A brief smile touched Elena¡¯s face, as her head bowed a bit. ¡°Of course. We¡¯d like to see her too.¡± Her hand gave a brief gesture, summoning a different pair of holographic disguises. These were less unremarkable than the previous ones, portraying her as an attractive blonde woman in her late thirties with piercing blue eyes, and her husband as a silver-haired slightly older man of quite distinguished looks not far from Eric¡¯s own, actually. The two could have been brothers. Which, in this case, was the entire point.


    Together, the three descended the stairs just outside the observation area, entering the other room through a pair of sealed doors. As they did so, a small, yet excited voice called out from the bed in the middle of the room, ¡°Daddy!¡±


    Dismissing the doctors for a couple minutes, Eric stepped over to smile at his daughter. The tiny, pale brunette, leaned up for a hug, which her father provided. Gently, of course. Though the Rot Bone disease had been held at bay, preventing her bones from disintegrating into a lethal poison, they were still fragile. He didn¡¯t dare squeeze as firmly as he so desperately wanted to.


    ¡°Here, Lissa,¡± the man gently urged while straightening. ¡°You have visitors.¡±


    Seeing the two behind him, the young girl¡¯s face brightened. ¡®Uncle Stan! Aunt Ellen!¡± Soon, she was exchanging gentle embraces with the two she knew as her father¡¯s often-distant brother and his wife. ¡°Did you see what Dad brought?¡± Reaching under her blanket, she pulled out a stuffed bear. It was dark red with a white snout and white bits on the end of its paws, wearing a brown trenchcoat and Sherlock Holmes Deerstalker hat. In one of its hands was a magnifying glass.


    ¡°His name is Inspector Guillotine,¡± Melissa explained. ¡°Inspector Garrote Guillotine. He¡¯s the best detective in the world, but he has a tortured soul over all the bad guys that he had to kill. Except for Paws Lynch. That¡¯s his archenemy and brother-in-law. Lynch killed his own sister, Inspector Guillotine¡¯s wife, and the inspector¡¯s spent the past three years trying to find him.¡±


    With a smile, Sterling (or Uncle Stan) gently took the trenchcoat-clad bear to examine him. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s an interesting story you¡¯ve got for this little guy.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s dangerous,¡± Melissa informed him. ¡°He drinks too much since his wife died, and he doesn¡¯t have anyone to talk to. But that¡¯s okay, cuz he¡¯s gonna meet her.¡± From under the blanket, the girl tugged a different stuffed animal. This one was much smaller, about half the size of the bear. It was a little pink crocodile with a cloth skateboard attached to its feet.


    ¡°She¡¯s gonna teach Inspector Guillotine how to love someone again,¡± Melissa explained. ¡°Cuz she¡¯s a witness to a murder, and he has to protect her. But she gets into trouble a lot.¡± She frowned a little. ¡°I dunno what to name her though.¡± Looking up to them, the girl asked, ¡°Do you know any good names?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± ¡®Aunt Ellen¡¯ replied while gently taking the stuffed, skateboard-riding crocodile. ¡°Let¡¯s see. A little daredevil, gets into trouble, teaches the gruff old guy how to love again¡­¡± Turning it over in her hands, she looked back to the girl. ¡°How about Cassidy?¡±


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± Melissa echoed, taking the toy back as she considered for a moment. ¡°Hmm¡­ okay. Okay, she can be Cassidy. Cassidy and Inspector Garrote Guillotine.¡±


    ¡°She writes stories,¡± Eric quietly explained, gesturing to the stack of notebooks on a nearby table. ¡°So many stories. She¡¯s going to publish them, as soon as she gets better. Isn¡¯t that right, Smelly?¡± Smelly, of course, was short for ¡®Small Melly¡¯, a joke between the two. Her father was the only person in the world Melissa tolerated the teasing nickname from.


    After a little more conversation, Eric produced the vial, holding it gingerly between his fingers. ¡°Okay, Smelly Melly Bug. We¡¯ve got some of your medicine here.¡±


    The girl squirmed in her bed, staring at it. ¡°Another shot?¡± Her voice was a weak protest, despite knowing how much she needed it. Shots weren¡¯t fun. Particularly these ones.


    Taking a knee in front of the bed after setting the vial down on the table, Eric took his daughter¡¯s hands. ¡°I know, sweet thing. I know, it sucks. But it¡¯ll make you better.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you said before,¡± Melissa protested. ¡°And I felt good. But then there was no more medicine and I got sick again.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, baby,¡± Eric assured her. ¡°You¡¯ll get all the medicine you need, I promise. You just have to be my brave, strong girl and take it, okay? You take your medicine here, just one little shot, then we¡¯ll watch a movie and have ice cream tonight.¡±


    There was a little more good-natured grumbling, but the little girl agreed. Eric called in a doctor to administer the injection. It clearly hurt, given the way the girl hissed and whimpered through it, but she stayed as still as possible. Once it was over, Eric and her ¡®aunt and uncle¡¯ all gave her hugs, promising to come back for ice cream and a movie as soon as they finished a little work.


    As the trio stepped out of the room and returned to the observation area, Elena dropped the illusion over herself and Sterling. The pair looked toward their old friend, while he announced, ¡°This Paintball has given my daughter another month. So as I said, I¡¯ll give him those ten days to find the rest of them.¡±


    ¡°I take it,¡± Elena began carefully, ¡°you will not be letting this Ashton boy go, regardless of what happens with those vials.¡±


    ¡°He put my daughter¡¯s life in danger,¡± Eric stated in a flat, dangerous tone. ¡°He doesn¡¯t get to walk away from that. No. I¡¯ll give him a chance to do the right thing, for this Paintball. When that¡¯s over, once Melissa is safe again, this¡­ Ashton and I will have that conversation.


    ¡°And perhaps his screams will reach back through time, to bring a shudder to the boy at the very moment that he first thinks of bringing harm to my child.¡±

 Collectors 5-01

    Ten days. I had ten¨Cwait, no, it was the day after I¡¯d found Ashton, and Blackjack would absolutely count that as a full one. Nine. I had nine days to get answers out of the guy about where the rest of the vials were, before La Casa took their turn with him. And what was I doing right now? What was I doing during a time when the clock was ticking so audibly right in the back of my head, when every minute counted?


    I was sitting at lunch, struggling my way through my chemistry homework in between taking bites of food. Not that I was a bad student or anything. I did decent in most of my classes. But I¡¯d been a bit preoccupied lately, and if I let my grades slip too much, my parents were going to notice. I had to get this done and turned in before the end of the day. It was already late, but I¡¯d told the teacher that I left it in the library and she¡¯d given me that long to get it to her.


    I¡¯d gone to my dress fitting the night before. After everything that had happened with catching Ashton and meeting Pack, going to a simple, mundane thing like that had been pretty disorienting. I¡¯d barely had time to take a quick shower before the appointment, which had actually made me a few minutes late. But I¡¯d figured that was better than showing up smelling like¡­ well, smelling like I¡¯d just chased a guy halfway across town in a full body suit.


    In any case, I¡¯d made it and gotten the fitting for my dress, which would be ready for the ball. Now I just had to focus on my homework. I really needed to get it done, since I was pretty sure the teacher wasn¡¯t going to give me any more time. Besides, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do it after school even if she allowed it. I had to go see what I could do to help Wren build her truth-device. And, well, also check on that La Casa lizard girl to make sure she wasn¡¯t trying anything. Not that I really expected her to, but paranoia was a powerful drug.


    Speaking of my increasingly rampant paranoia, it wasn¡¯t exactly helped as a voice somewhere behind me abruptly announced, loudly and clearly, ¡°Paintball.¡± I jerked a bit, twisting in my seat to look over my shoulder despite myself. Which, honestly, was really fucking stupid.


    But it wasn¡¯t someone trying to prove who I was. Instead, at the next table over, there were a group of guys and a couple girls. One of the boys was the one talking, both completely unaware of my reaction. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s definitely Paintball, dude. That¡¯s what the little guy goes by. He¡¯s the one who was out there being chased all over the city by that Cu¨¦lebre son of a bitch.¡±


    ¡°I saw that, man!¡± another guy abruptly put in, taking a bite of pizza before continuing with a wild wave of his hand. ¡°That kid was like, flip-jumping all over the place, with dragon dude right behind him. I was waiting for the bus and they went right over our heads. The little guy went through the alley and Cu¨¦lebre just kinda went¡­ through the alley.¡± He made a crashing noise to illustrate his meaning. ¡°I was so pissed that I couldn¡¯t get my phone out before they were gone. You know how many views you can get for that kind of shit up close? That could like, launch my channel.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± one of the girls at their table put in after taking a long drink of her iced tea, ¡°just be glad you weren¡¯t Paintball. I mean, powers or not, some scrawny twelve-year-old boy being chased by Cu¨¦lebre in full on pissed off mode? I hope the little guy¡¯s okay.¡±


    Okay, ouch. Sure, she was being empathetic and all, but still, I felt a little indignant. Fourteen year old boy, maybe. But twelve? That was pushing it. I wasn¡¯t that small, people. The fact that it made my disguise even more effective crossed my mind, but I still felt like grumbling to myself.


    The guys at the other table went on to talk about how cool the whole Paintball and Cu¨¦lebre thing had been. Which helped salve my ego about the whole twelve-year-old boy thing, while simultaneously making me remember the unholy terror I¡¯d felt while the chase was actually happening. It was easy to sit here and think, ¡®wow, that was badass.¡¯ But thinking about being in that moment, mostly what I recalled was trying very hard not to piss myself in the middle of it.


    Before I could listen to much more, there was a squeak of the chair nearby as Amber sat down, accompanied by Jae. ¡°Hey,¡± the brunette girl started when I looked that way, ¡°how¡¯s it going? You ready for tonight?¡± As she spoke, Amber started pouring ranch dressing over her fries.


    ¡°Tonight?¡± I echoed blankly. How would they have any idea about my plans for the night? I was just going to help Wren with anything she needed for that truth machine and then¨Coh, shit. Wait.


    Jae spoke up quietly, confirming just as the realization came to me, ¡°Library.¡±


    Right. Right, shit. We¡¯d planned on going to one of the main city libraries to do some more work on that project this evening. Apparently it was one of the few times during the week that Jae and Amber weren¡¯t busy with one thing or another, so I couldn¡¯t just put them off. As much as I really needed to help Wren with her work, I had class stuff to do too.


    Geez, being a superhero and a student at the same time was already complicated enough. How did people with actual important day jobs deal with it? Because this was pretty exhausting.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t make plans, did you?¡± Amber asked, squinting at me. ¡°I mean, I guess if we really¨C¡±


    ¡°No, no.¡± My head shook. ¡°No, I¡¯ll be there, no worries. I¡¯ve just got things to do after, but I can work out the scheduling. No big deal.¡± I offered her a slight smile, trying to make it sound like it wasn¡¯t important before looking over toward Jae so I could change the subject. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re pretty good at science, right? Little help?¡± I turned the homework page around and pointed to the number I was stuck on. ¡°I can¡¯t figure out where I¡¯m supposed to look for this.¡±


    Looking at the page, the pale girl nodded before getting up. She moved around to my side of the table, sitting beside me while adjusting the book. I watched as her fingers flipped pages back to an earlier chapter to show me what I¡¯d forgotten. It was actually pretty simple, I¡¯d just spaced on one little thing from the last section that made it clear. Which was probably a consequence of skimming too much while trying to blow through the homework so I could get out to the streets.


    ¡°Thanks, Jae,¡± I murmured quietly, skimming the page she¡¯d pointed out. ¡°You¡¯re seriously a lifesaver. I dunno how long it would¡¯ve taken me to remember this part by myself. I might have to borrow your brain some more just to get this whole thing done in time.¡±


    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s definitely a lifesaver,¡± Amber agreed, popping a fry into her mouth with a small smile before continuing. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how many times she¡¯s made sure I didn¡¯t miss an assignment.¡± Winking at the girl in question, she added, ¡°But I suppose I can share.¡±


    With Jae and Amber¡¯s help, I managed to get the rest of the worksheet done before lunch was over. So I¡¯d be able to run that down and turn it in, which solved one of my problems. Then I¡¯d just have to get to the public library and work with them for a couple hours before going to check in with Wren. But hey, at least Mom and Dad were going to be ¡®gone¡¯ for the next few days, so even though it was Tuesday, I didn¡¯t have family dinner to worry about. That was a plus.


    So I¡¯d hit the library, then deal with the Ashton thing. One situation at a time. Nine days. I had nine days to figure this out and get the rest of those medicine vials out of him.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Eight and a half.


    ********


    The trip to the library took a couple hours. I tried not to seem like I was rushing or anything. But honestly, Jae and Amber seemed fairly eager to get out of there too. They didn¡¯t try to hang around after we¡¯d done what we needed to. Which suited me just fine, though I did wonder where they were going.


    I also wondered if they were dating, considering Amber didn¡¯t exactly keep her preference for girls quiet or anything. But I was pretty sure Jae was straight, though I supposed that was more a feeling, since I¡¯d never seen her actually date anyone. Unless she and Amber were dating, in which case¨C


    Right, it was none of my business. Moving on. I made my way to the bookstore where Wren¡¯s secondary lab (and, I supposed, her new home) was. As I approached the door, it opened and I went right through to join the others in the basement.


    Pack was still there, obviously. And it looked like the two of them had had quite the evening. There were blankets and pillows scattered around, along with food carry-out bags and a handful of empty soda cans. A partially-finished Monopoly game was sitting on one of the tables, with a couple other board games nearby. And there were pages and pages of half-done blueprints and design ideas, most scribbled out or with various reasons why they wouldn¡¯t work written over them in red marker. Some had bits missing that were cut or torn out, and there was a larger page, clearly haphazardly taped together from those pages, in the middle of the main table.


    Pack was sitting over on the floor with her collection of lizards all over her. She was feeding them, looking up as I came in. ¡°The kid¡¯s a real genius, you know. Knows her stuff.¡±


    ¡°Is that a ¡®wow, I¡¯m impressed,¡¯¡± I asked as neutrally as possible, ¡°or a ¡®I could really get in good with my boss if I told him to really go after recruiting this kid before someone else snatches her up?¡¯¡± New to all of this though I might¡¯ve been, I knew just how valuable a good Tech-Touched was to these gangs. Let alone one as young and impressionable as Wren was.


    Her response was to lift her head a little. I couldn¡¯t see her expression, but there was an obvious smirk in her voice. ¡°Relax, man. I¡¯m not hardcore or anything. I just joined La Casa a few months ago because they offered me better training, equipment, and help. I mean, it took me a week before I stopped saying ¡®the La Casa.¡¯ They really don¡¯t like that.¡± There was a pause before she admitted in a quieter voice, ¡°Sometimes I still say it like that, just to tick some of them off.¡±


    Okay, was it wrong that I kind of liked this girl? Because, well¡­ yeah. Shaking that thought off, I focused on replying with a simple, ¡°I¡¯ll try to remember the etiquette for that. And got it, you aren¡¯t some obsessed fanatic or anything. Good to know. Remains to be seen if that¡¯s the truth, but still.¡± Giving her a thumbs up, I added, ¡°So you guys look like you¡¯ve been busy.¡±


    ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth,¡± Pack muttered, gesturing toward Wren. ¡°The kid kept changing the plans for this suit thing over and over. I think we went through about twenty-seven different blueprints.¡±


    ¡°The others wouldn¡¯t have worked,¡± Wren herself piped up after taking a gulp from a glass of what looked like orange juice. ¡°Or they would¡¯ve taken too long, or needed more than we could get, or¨C¡± Stopping, her head shook. ¡°The point is, this should work.¡± As she spoke, the girl brushed some crumbs and food wrappers off that taped-up collection of different pages, holding it up for me to see a design not too-unlike the one she had shown me yesterday, with notes all over it, individual components scrawled in, and things like power sources and specific wiring details written along the side.


    ¡°That¡¯s the suit we¡¯re going with?¡± I asked curiously.


    She nodded quickly. ¡°Uh huh. It¡¯ll work, I know it will.¡± Smiling at the taped together sheets before glancing up to me, she added, ¡°But we need some things.¡±


    ¡°Name it,¡± I replied, ¡°we¡¯ll pick up whatever you need to build this thing.¡±


    ¡°I could name it,¡± she carefully informed me, sounding like she was trying very hard not to be insulting. ¡°But you probably wouldn¡¯t remember half the names. So I wrote it down, with details!¡± Scrounging around the table a bit, she came out with a smaller notebook, one that would fit in a pocket. ¡°See, I wrote all the pieces down on different pages. These ones are easy to get and not too expensive. These ones are available but kind of expensive. And¡­¡± She flipped to the last page, with only one item listed. ¡°This one isn¡¯t really available for sale anywhere. It¡¯s sort of an experimental piece of medical equipment. I¡¯m pretty sure Seraph Hills has a few of them.¡±


    ¡°The university?¡± I asked, thinking. ¡°That place is pretty upscale.¡± It was, in fact, one of the best medical schools in the entire country, having been built only about twelve years ago, but had rapidly become what amounted to the foremost training center for doctors and medical professionals in a Touched world. It was also very well protected with its own private security team, many of whom were actually Touched themselves. Understandable, considering a lot of the research that went on in there. Not to mention all the equipment that Tech-Touched donated to keep the place as state of the art as possible.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there any other way we can make it work?¡± Pack put in with a visible wince. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not exactly super-eager to run up against Seraphs, you know?¡± Seraphs, of course, were the name of that private security team, a mixture of well-trained and equipped Prevs (humans without powers/non-Touched) and people who did have powers. Their entire job was to keep the hospitals and medical schools they were attached to safe from attack. And they were very good at their jobs. There was a reason the Seraph-protected hospitals were safe ground. It was an enforced neutral zone. Any hospital that got attacked had Seraphs protecting it, delaying the attackers while basically every decent Touched in the area would swarm in to provide reinforcement. No one bothered Seraph places and got away with it.


    Wren hesitated. ¡°Yes and no? I could maybe build something that would work, but it wouldn¡¯t be as good with the stuff we¡¯ve got, and it¡¯d take a lot longer to get done than ten days.¡±


    ¡°Eight and a half,¡± I murmured under my breath before heaving a sigh. ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure those Seraph guys won¡¯t exactly be super-eager to share their tech, even if we ask nicely.¡±


    Pack shrugged. ¡°I guess I could tell Blackjack he needs to send some people to pick up that stuff. He could probably mount a quick smash and grab just to get it and run.¡±


    ¡°And probably hurt innocent people who are just doing their jobs?¡± I pointed out. ¡°Not to mention potentially breaking a bunch of stuff that those med students need to learn to use so they can help people. And if anyone died in that ¡®smash and grab¡¯ just because your boss isn¡¯t exactly in the mood to play nice?¡± My head shook. ¡°No, I don¡¯t want to ask Blackjack to do anything like that.¡±


    That blank black mask turned a bit to stare at me. ¡°So what do you suggest?¡± she asked, while reaching up to scratch one of the lizards on her shoulder. ¡°How do we get the last thing on that list without stealing it, if it¡¯d take the kid there too long to build a working facsimile herself?¡±


    That¡­ was a good question. I hesitated, sighing inwardly as I tried to think. ¡°I¡¯ll work on it. Let you know what I come up with. Right now, let¡¯s worry about the stuff on the first two lists. Stuff that¡¯s easy and cheap, and stuff that¡¯s more expensive.¡±


    ¡°I can take care of the expensive stuff,¡± Pack put in. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything on there that me and my friends couldn¡¯t grab.¡± She gave me an obvious look. ¡°You know, after the stores are closed so no one gets hurt.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to steal anything,¡± I insisted. ¡°I¡­¡± Then I paused. How much could I say here without giving too much away. I glanced at the second list. The stuff on it probably wasn¡¯t too expensive. Not for someone whose allowance was in the thousands per week and who hadn¡¯t exactly spent all that much of it in her life. ¡°I¡¯ll handle the second list. You deal with the first. I¨Chere.¡± Turning away from them, I unzipped the front of my costume, reaching in to find my wallet. There, I fidgeted with it a bit before coming out with a handful of twenty dollar bills, then zipped up the suit again and turned back to hold the cash out toward Pack. ¡°Use this, get whatever you can on the first list. And pay for it.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the girl stared at the money in my hand before snatching it. She gave a low whistle. ¡°You came prepared, kid. Sure thing, I¡¯ll get the stuff, and I¡¯ll even play nice the whole time. But you know, at some point we¡¯re gonna have to figure out what to do about that last thing.¡±


    With a soft sigh, I replied, ¡°Trust me, I know. Let¡¯s just worry about the first two for now, huh? And hope that one of us thinks of something helpful before we get to that one.¡±


    Because getting into a fight with the Seraphs for stealing from a medical university probably wouldn¡¯t do wonders for my budding superhero career.

 Collectors 5-02

    First up on the available-but-expensive side was¡­ I had no idea. Seriously, it looked like gibberish letters and numbers. Apparently it was a model or serial number or something. I had to make Wren read each bit off to me as I looked at it just to make sure I didn¡¯t misread part of her handwriting. Not that it was that bad (better than mine, actually), but with something like this I really didn¡¯t want there to be any mistakes. Just to be on the safe side, I made her read it again while typing it in my phone. Then I read what I recorded back to her to triple-check.


    So I had a bunch of names, model numbers, and some vague idea of where I might go. And then I had a question. The same question I¡¯d had back at Wren¡¯s place, actually. Should I go to these places as myself, or as Paintball? A new Touched flashing around a bunch of money to buy expensive, semi-niche things might grab certain people¡¯s attention.


    On the other hand, the daughter of Sterling Evans doing so would definitely get attention. So even if I didn¡¯t actually go in full costume, I still couldn¡¯t go as myself. It just came down to, ¡®in costume¡¯ or ¡®in disguise.¡¯ And the fact that there was a distinct difference between the two really helped to show just how weird my life had become in such a very short time.


    So, I decided to go with a disguise. But if I was going to do that, I had to go all the way with it. Making a brief trip to the mall, I picked up a few things as quickly as I could. Baggy jeans, a chain with a wallet, basketball sneakers, a couple loose-fitting shirts, and a levi jacket to start. Then I went through the cosmetics and found myself some temporary blonde hair dye that would wash out. To cap the whole thing off, I took a pair of non-prescription glasses and a hat.


    With all my bags in hand, I headed to the restrooms. There, I stopped short. Wait. Hold on. I was¡­ Okay, so the point was that I needed to disguise myself (even more) as a boy. That way, if it came back that the things that had been bought by me ended up used by Paintball, I wouldn¡¯t give away my secret. But there was a catch. I wanted to change into my ¡®boy disguise¡¯ here at the mall. So did I go into the women¡¯s restroom, where I belonged, and come out as a boy? Or did I go into the men¡¯s room, where I didn¡¯t belong, and come out of there as a boy?


    I¡¯d never been to superhero school, but if I had, I was pretty sure this still wouldn¡¯t have been covered.


    In the end (after clearly overthinking it for too long), I decided to go with the male restroom. Mostly because I figured people already mistook me for a boy as I was, so when I came out looking even more like one, being in the male restroom was probably the way to go.


    With all that in mind, I waited around, pretending to window shop and check out the nearby food court until I was pretty sure the restroom was empty. Then I quickly made my way in, went to the handicapped stall in the far corner, and set my bags down before hurriedly getting to work.


    The stall was one of those with its own small sink, which was part of the plan. I used the sink, washing my hair quickly, then ran the hair dye into it before scrubbing it in thoroughly. The dye was meant to go with Halloween or cosplay outfits, so it would set in after about ten minutes, then wash out the next time I took a shower. Which I would be doing as soon as this was over.


    Once my hair was colored and I was waiting for it to dry, I moved over to the next stall. It was a tighter fit, but I really didn¡¯t want to take up the handicapped spot for ten minutes. Then I just¡­ tried to pretend I was anywhere but there. I also prayed that no one would come in. It was a prayer that sadly went unanswered, though the second I heard the door open, I quickly took my headphones out, shoved them in, and turned my music up loud so I wouldn¡¯t hear¡­ anything.


    Finally, the hair was done. I hurriedly ran a comb through it, then put on the new clothes including both layers of shirts and the levi jacket before slipping my feet into the new shoes and stepped out to the mirror. The glasses went on, and I tied my hair back into a loose ponytail, hoping that would look sufficiently ¡®guy-like.¡¯ That done, I threw on the hat and checked myself out.


    Okay, I definitely looked like a boy. I looked like I belonged in one of those boy bands, actually. The kind that made little girls squeal. Wincing at how easy that had been, I grabbed my stuff and made my way out.


    Aaaand immediately almost ran into Simon. Yeah. He was on his way into the restroom, looking back at one of his friends. Seeing him, my eyes went wide, like a deer in headlights. Instinct kicked in, and I slipped past him. In my hurry, I kind of brushed up against his shoulder, muttering an apology under my breath with as deep a voice as I could manage before hurrying off. I had to tell myself not to look back. I really didn¡¯t want to know if he was looking.


    Seriously, what were the odds that Simon would be right there right then? Sure, he spent a lot of time at the mall (or I¡¯d thought he did before knowing he was basically employed as a goon for our parents), but still. Once I was far enough away, I sat down at one of the food court tables and took a second to glance back toward the bathrooms. Was he looking for me? The real me.


    It didn¡¯t look like it. A few of his friends that I recognized were there (were they part of our parents¡¯ group too?) hanging around outside the restroom. A moment later, Simon and another of his friends emerged. He wasn¡¯t looking around or anything, and he didn¡¯t even glance toward the female restroom. Instead, the group briefly conferred, Simon checked his watch, and then he and a couple others walked off together, leaving the rest behind.


    Wait a minute. Wait. Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. Okay, maybe it was a very stupid idea. But I might¡¯ve just tripped over a way to find out¡­ well, anything at all about my family¡¯s situation. I just happened to be in disguise and almost tripped over Simon at the mall? Right, maybe he was just hanging out and not doing anything untoward. Maybe this was a waste of time, a waste that I really couldn¡¯t afford given our time constraints. But if he was doing anything here¡­


    I had to know. I wouldn¡¯t take too long with it, but this was just too good of a chance to waste. Picking myself up from the table, I followed my brother and the friends who had joined him. I¡¯d just take a few minutes to see what they were doing. If they were just doing ordinary shopping things, then there was no problem. I¡¯d take off and focus on getting those supplies for Wren.


    The mall was busy enough that it wasn¡¯t that hard to trail Simon. I stayed back far enough that I wouldn¡¯t stand out, stopping now and then to pretend to window shop while keeping half an eye on the trio. They didn¡¯t really seem to be in a hurry, and I was quickly starting to think the whole thing had been a waste of time. Simon was just hanging out at the mall, not doing anything nefarious. It was time to leave him alone and focus on the whole reason I¡¯d donned this disguise.


    Then it happened. As I was pretending to study a turtleneck on a very confident-looking mannequin, I saw Simon look at his watch once more. He said something to one of his friends, then beckoned with a finger while moving to a nearby employee¡¯s only door midway between two different shops. Producing a ring of keys, he unlocked the door and headed through. The guy he beckoned to followed, while the other guy simply turned around, put his back to the wall beside the door, and waited. A lookout, apparently.


    Okay, now something was going on. Managing to stop staring before the guy by the door glanced my way, I straightened up and turned to meander that way, crossing the aisle to look at the opposite store. In reality, I was using the reflection in the window there to stare at that door. Approved Employees Only. That¡¯s all it said. What were Simon and the other guy doing there? Why did they need someone to stand by the door and wait? And how could I get through it to find out?


    Right, first, I needed to distract the guy by the door. I¡­ thought his name was Derrick, but it could¡¯ve been something like Devon or Darius. I was going to go with Derrick for the moment. Derrick was checking his phone, idly looking up now and then but mostly just focused on texting or whatever he was doing. My guess was that his sole job was just to make sure no one else went through the door, so he didn¡¯t have to pay attention to much beyond that. And I needed to make him stop doing even that much. This would be interesting.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Thinking quickly, I looked down the mall to see a group of teen girls coming, arms loaded with bags. From the corner of my eye, I could see Derrick watching them too, with obvious approval at what he saw. Okay. Maybe I could use that. Yeah. Yeah, I could definitely use it.


    Pointing at my feet, I checked to make sure no one was watching before shooting a small blotch of red paint there. Leaving it, I casually walked that way, toward the incoming girls. As I passed them, a few more tiny shots of red paint hit the bags they were carrying. Then I just kept walking, passing a cart full of teddy bears for sale in the middle of the corridor before using that for cover. Picking up a bear, I watched as the girls neared Derrick and the spot of paint I¡¯d left. Just as they were about to pass it, I activated the paint both there and on their bags.


    The result was immediate. The bags were ripped from the girls¡¯ hands as they yelped in surprise. With a loud crash, they hit the floor, spilling their contents everywhere. The girls cried out, cursing even as Derrick jumped.


    I stood there, holding the bear in my hands as I watched the girls quickly drop to start gathering things. Under my breath, I murmured, ¡°Go for it, Hot Shot. Come on, they¡¯re cute girls. Help them. Do it. Come on.¡±


    ¡°Dude.¡± A voice nearby cut in, and I blinked over to see the guy who was actually selling the bears staring at me. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Jumping a bit, I saw Derrick moving to help the girls. Quickly, I pushed a twenty dollar bill into the man¡¯s hand. ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured, ¡°my girl¡¯ll love it.¡± Then I moved around the cart, glancing over my shoulder to see the guy shrug and turn his attention down the hall to ask a passing couple if they wanted one.


    Derrick was still helping the girls pick up their things. His back was to the door, so I moved quickly past them. Giving one last quick look that way to make sure he wasn¡¯t looking, I tried the door while praying silently. It was still unlocked. Breathing out, I quietly slipped through, closing it gently behind me before slowly looking around to see where it had led me.


    I was in a narrow corridor, with a gray floor and puke green walls. Ahead were a few closed doors, with another one at the end that had a little window in it. I moved that way, listening.


    Dumb, dumb. This was so dumb. What the hell was I doing? I was going to get caught. I was going to be in so much trouble. This was going to backfire. I needed to get the hell out of there, like right now before the whole thing completely blew up in my face. I had to leave.


    I went forward, carefully checking the side doors. They were locked, and I was pretty sure no one was in them. Quickly and quietly moving to the end of the hall, I chanced a peek through the small window to see what was there. Stairs. It was a landing, with stairs leading down.


    Biting my lip, I hesitated for a second before trying the door. Locked. And now I noticed the single white button beside the door. Was it a doorbell? A button to open the door? Something else? I didn¡¯t know. I had no idea what might happen if I pushed the thing. The whole thing was seeming like more of a bad idea by the second.


    This was all so confusing. What the hell was my brother doing down there? Why were there stairs leading down in the first place? What could possibly be there? And why was I stalling instead of trying harder to get down there to find out?


    Because the last couple times I¡¯d found my brother doing criminal things hadn¡¯t gone too well, that¡¯s why. The first time I¡¯d seen two people get viciously executed, and the second time I¡¯d found out that my dad was both a villain and my favorite superhero. So yeah, maybe I was a little hesitant to go through that door and see what new revelation popped up this time.


    Either fortunately or unfortunately, the decision about finding a way through the door was taken out of my hands then, as the sound of feet on the stairs made me look through that little window. People. My brother and some other guy, different from the one he¡¯d gone in with. I could see the back of their heads as they came up the stairs toward the landing right before they would turn to come up the last set right to this door.


    Grimacing, I pivoted and looked around quickly. I couldn¡¯t go out the door I¡¯d come in. Derrick had to be right there by now. Instead, I moved to one of the side doors, the ones that were locked. Making my arm purple and activating the paint, I murmured a quiet prayer before shoving at the knob.


    It worked. The door popped open, and I quickly slipped through, giving a quick glance around to find myself in what looked like an old supply closet full of cleaning stuff that seemed like it hadn¡¯t been touched in months, at least. There was a lot of dust, anyway. Hearing those footsteps reach the top of the stairs beyond the other door, I quickly and quietly closed the one for this room most of the way, leaving just a crack to see through. Then I paused, frowning. Hadn¡¯t I been in a very similar situation just recently? When I went to save Ashton¡¯s brother, I¡¯d gone in a short hallway full of doors, then had to hide as one of the guys came back through the one at the end. Yeah, definite deja vu.


    I was really hoping this one wouldn¡¯t end with me in a fight.


    Holding the door so that it stayed mostly closed, I listened as the one that had been locked beeped. There was a weird sound of rushing air from the other side as it opened before the footsteps came through, then the sound of air stopped as the door was closed. That was followed by a definitive sounding beep, then a metallic thunk that probably meant the door was fully locked again.


    As soon as that was done, I heard my brother¡¯s voice. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this, man. You know the rules. Ten percent of the take from any job you do in the city just for permission to operate here. You¡¯re operating here, that¡¯s ten. You asked for the patrol schedules of the Spartans and Conservators for that day. That¡¯s another twenty. Thirty percent. We know exactly how much you took and what it was worth. Thirty percent is forty-six thousand. Just be glad you didn¡¯t ask for our direct intervention. That¡¯s even more. Stop acting like this is some kind of surprise.¡±


    While I was taking that in, Simon and the other guy came into view. The latter was a tall, heavy-set guy with bulging muscles, a leather vest, and copious tattoos along his exposed arms. He looked like a biker.


    ¡°It¡¯s bullshit, man,¡± the guy was complaining as he stopped walking to look to my brother. ¡°Why am I even talking to some punk bitch like you anyway?¡± He made a dismissive snorting sound, reaching up to catch him on the shoulder. ¡°Spoiled fucking rich kid. You ever even been in a fight, huh? You ain¡¯t Touched, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    I saw my brother stiffen a bit at that. He went completely still, then pushed the man¡¯s hand off his arm, voice turning a bit cold. ¡°Tell you what. Hit me.¡±


    ¡°Excuse you?¡± The man was staring at him. So was I, to be fair.


    ¡°Hit me,¡± Simon repeated. ¡°Just once. You hit me once, and I¡¯ll call the entire debt clear.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit you will,¡± his companion spat.


    Simon smiled, shrugging. ¡°What¡¯ve you got to lose? I mean, haven¡¯t you wanted to hit me for awhile now? It¡¯s kind of your best chance.¡± He spread his arms, taking a step back from the man that put him almost out of my sight. Then he closed his eyes and stood there, arms apart, eyes shut. ¡°You¡¯ll never get a better shot.¡±


    The man hesitated just for a second, then took a step that way and threw a vicious haymaker at my brother¡¯s face. I very nearly blurted out a warning reflexively, but it died in my throat as Simon¡¯s head turned just a little. The punch whiffed through the air. The guy threw another punch, and Simon did the same thing, his head snapping the other way.


    Frustrated by that point, the other man lashed out in a wild roundhouse swing, followed by a hard kick. Simon¡¯s entire body tipped backward first, letting the punch sail just above his head. In the same motion, he pivoted and side-stepped a bit, allowing the kick to pass through the air where he had just been standing. It threw the man off balance, and he stumbled forward. With a roar of frustration, he produced a knife and spun to drive it toward Simon¡¯s face before I even knew what was happening. But Simon just jerked his head backward out of the way, seeming to know that the blade had been brought into play.


    The man swiped with the blade twice more. Each time, Simon avoided it by stepping backward. His opponent was getting frustrated, and it showed, as he lunged at my brother with a shout, driving the knife toward his stomach.


    Pivoting away from the incoming knife, Simon¡¯s hand snapped out to catch the man¡¯s arm just as the blade slid past his chest. Gripping the man¡¯s arm, he kicked out to knock his legs out from under him, then let the man fall while stripping the knife from his hand.


    Tossing the knife aside with a clatter, Simon breathed out. Only then did he open his eyes, having kept them closed through all of that. He stared down at the man on the ground, a long moment of tense silence passing before my brother eventually spoke. His voice was calm. ¡°Looks to me like you have something in common with super powers.¡± He turned on his heel then, heading for the exit.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been touched by either of you.¡±

 Collectors 5-03

    Okay, so considering the risk I¡¯d taken and the fact that I¡¯d put getting the supplies to build Wren¡¯s machine that was supposed to lead to saving Blackjack¡¯s daughter on hold, I hadn¡¯t actually found out that much. Other than the fact that there was something going on under the mall. And that my brother wasn¡¯t just a crazy, murderous villain, but also a certifiable (literally) badass, powers or no powers. I¡¯d had no idea he could fight like that! I thought he was just¡­ just¡­ Simon. Seeing him do what he¡¯d just done was¡­ um¡­ surprising, to say the least.


    Oh, and of course I¡¯d also found out at least part of how my family was actually profiting off criminals. They were selling things like the right to operate in the city (exactly how they enforced that I wasn¡¯t sure exactly) and heroes¡¯ patrol schedules in exchange for percentages of their take. It was like they were running a protection racket on actual villains. Which was¡­ it was¡­ wow. It was wow.


    And now I really had to go. There was no way I could get through that door to go deeper into this place without at least setting off some kind of alarm. Plus, I had no way of knowing how long it would take Simon and/or anyone else to come back. I had to get out of there and go back to the actual plan.


    Slipping out of the side room I¡¯d hidden in once Simon and the others were gone, I listened carefully at the main door. Hearing nothing, I still waited a moment before cracking it a bit. No one. They had moved on. Trying to look as casual as possible (though I restrained the urge to whistle nonchalantly), I opened it, strolling out before heading on my way. All the thoughts and confusion I had about what my family was up to had to be shoved aside for the time being. Right now, it was time to focus fully on the whole Ashton situation, and getting the rest of those vials.


    With the list pulled up on my phone, I made my way to the first shop that Wren had mentioned. It was actually more of a junkyard. At one time it had been some kind of auto shop. Now there were high, apparently fairly recently constructed, metal walls around the place, with barbed wire along the top, a heavy iron gate at the entrance, and cameras pretty much everywhere. Yeah, it was a good thing I¡¯d gone with the ¡®disguise myself as a boy¡¯ thing, because anyone who happened to watch this footage later would probably have like six different camera angles to watch me from.


    The gate was locked, but there was an open sign next to a single button mounted on a speaker. So, with a shrug, I reached out and put my finger against the button, holding it for a second before releasing. There was a deep buzzing sound both right at the gate and from somewhere in the distance. My guess was that the buzzer alerted anyone who might be busy in the back of the lot. I could see stacks of machinery including fridges, ovens, actual washing machines, and broken down cars lining the whole area beyond the gate, with a narrow walkway leading to what had been the main garage itself back when this place had been a normal mechanic¡¯s shop.


    Was whoever happened to be behind this shop a Tech-Touched as well? Because I was starting to assume that any place set up like this was for someone like that. It would also probably help explain the overabundance of cameras, heavy walls, and likely other security.


    Maybe Wren could take some pointers from this person when it came to getting set up again.


    A few seconds after the buzzers sounded, there was a voice that came through the intercom. ¡°Whatchu want, kid?¡± It sounded like an old man who really wasn¡¯t in the mood for visitors.


    ¡°Um.¡± Coughing, I turned to look at the nearest camera. ¡°I¡¯ve just¡­ I need to buy a few things that I can¡¯t really get in a regular shop. Someone told me your place might be a good one to check. Sorry if I disturbed you, the sign said you were open, so I figured I was supposed to¨C¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± the voice cut me off. ¡°I don¡¯t need an oral essay. You got money with you?¡±


    Pausing briefly at the thought of just how open about having cash on me I wanted to be for this gruff stranger, I eventually put that aside, nodding. ¡°Yes, sir, I have money.¡±


    With that, there was a chiming sound, and the gate began to grind its way open. I stepped out of the way, watching until there was enough space for me to walk through. As soon as I was on the inside, the gate stopped and began to close once more. It shut fully with a solid clang.


    Walking past all the broken down cars and appliances, I made my way into the main shop. The big garage doors were closed, so I went to the normal one, tugging it open. Bells above the door dinged pleasantly, and I found myself standing in front of a counter. There were a few plastic and metal (mismatched) chairs sitting randomly around the small room, and a television in the corner. Oh, and a thick sheet of bulletproof glass surrounded the counter itself, with a small slot in the middle for passing stuff through. A heavyset, older black man with a scruffy gray beard sat behind the counter, a half-eaten plate of lasagna and open beer in front of him.


    Pushing his plate aside, the man reached out to touch a button in front of him. As he spoke, the voice came through a nearby speaker, magnified and somewhat distorted. ¡°Whatayawant?¡±


    ¡°I, uhh, I have a list.¡± Reaching into my pocket, I took out a sheet of paper that I had carefully written all the serial or model numbers down on from the copy on my phone. The little slot opened with a dull clank, and I passed it through to the man. ¡°They¡¯re numbers for¨C¡±


    ¡°I know what fucking model numbers are, kid,¡± he interrupted impatiently. He scanned the list, glancing up to me a couple times with an inscrutable look before returning his gaze to the paper. That went on for about a minute or so as he scanned his way through them. He didn¡¯t look at anything else, didn¡¯t type them into the computer that sat nearby or anything. He just read them, mouth moving along as he murmured numbers and occasionally glanced toward me.


    Finally, the man leaned back on his stool, reaching under the counter to take out a blue pen, which he used to begin circling numbers. In the end, he marked a little under half of them. ¡°These I¡¯ve got. These,¡± he added, putting check marks next to few, ¡°I can get in a day or two. The rest of that stuff you¡¯ll have to get somewhere else. And none of this is cheap.¡± His eyes found mine again, as he grunted out, ¡°The hell you want this stuff for anyway?¡±


    Honestly, I was still recovering a bit from the fact that he¡¯d known what everything on the list was just from the serial numbers. But I shook that off and replied, ¡°My ahhh, partner at school. He¡¯s some mechanical genius and he says we can build something cool for the fair. Since it¡¯s his idea, I get to do the grunt work.¡± I was trying to keep my voice at least a little bit deeper than usual, to go with the whole disguise thing, since I couldn¡¯t exactly use the voice changer here.


    Whether the man bought my explanation or not, I couldn¡¯t really tell. But he apparently didn¡¯t actually care enough to challenge it, either way. He just grunted a little, then picked up an old plastic calculator and started punching in numbers. Again, he didn¡¯t actually look at anything before doing so. He just started pushing buttons, glancing at the list to see what he had marked, then looking back again. After a minute of that, he cleared his throat. ¡°It¡¯ll be six hundred and twenty-seven bucks for what I¡¯ve got now, nine-fifty-two for all of it including the stuff that¡¯ll take a couple days.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure you¡¯ve got it?¡± I asked hesitantly. The man hadn¡¯t gone anywhere, hadn¡¯t even looked at a list of his inventory or anything. And with everything piled up out there like it was¡­


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Heaving a sigh, the man pushed himself up from the stool. He reached under the counter to push a button, and part of the nearby wall between the two of us slid open. ¡°Come on,¡± he grunted out with a wave before turning to walk to a door behind him. ¡°I¡¯ll take you out there.¡±


    Shrugging, I started that way, moving through into the space behind the counter and to the door the man had already stepped through. We came out in the back of the lot, which¡­ looked a lot like the front. It was a junkyard, full of random machines. Seriously, was this a Tech-Touched thing? Was being allergic to understandable organization a side-effect of that?


    Or maybe not having things organized in a way outsiders could recognize was actually a benefit and a security measure. Because this guy knew exactly where he was going. He made his way through the yard, grabbing a laundry basket on the way. Here and there he stopped to grab things, dropping them in the basket seemingly haphazardly. One thing that looked sort of like a u-bend pipe he went to toss in, then stopped. Lifting the thing, he shook it a bit, listening before grumbling under his breath. He tossed that one aside, bent down to root through what looked like a pile of garbage, and came out with another one, which he dropped in the basket.


    All of that took about ten minutes, while I just followed after him. Finally, the man turned with the basket. ¡°Here it is,¡± he announced, holding it up with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Now, am I giving you what you asked for, or just a random bunch of junk?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ um.¡± Pausing, I looked at the basket, then up at him. ¡°I¡¯m hoping it¡¯s the former and you¡¯re just making a point about how you could be ripping me off?¡±


    He made a noise that I belatedly realized was a chuckle. ¡°I could be. But I like money. And something tells me that whoever your friend is, if they¡¯re making something that needs all this stuff now, they¡¯ll need to make other stuff later. Which means I get more business.¡± With those words, he shifted the basket under one arm, extending his other hand to me. ¡°Six-twenty-seven for this much. Another three-twenty-five when you¨C¡± Pausing, he squinted at me. ¡°You need this quick, don¡¯t you?¡± When I nodded, he exhaled. ¡°Three-twenty-five when you come back tomorrow for it. Twenty-four hours.¡±


    I thought about just getting all of it tomorrow, but maybe Wren could get started with this stuff and what Pack brought in. So, reaching into my pocket, I paid the man what he asked for. He took the time to count the bills before passing the basket to me. ¡°Come on then,¡± he ordered, gesturing as he led the way back to the door. ¡°Lemme get back to my food. Like I said, come back in twenty-four hours. I¡¯ll have the rest. Long as you come with more cash.¡±


    We made our way back inside, and I glanced toward the television, only to see myself. Well, Paintball. I was there, captured on cell phone camera in the midst of my rush through the city to escape from Cu¨¦lebre the other day. I was so surprised to see¡­ well, me like that, even as the image was split between showing that and some reporter saying something that was muted, that I stopped short basically in the doorway.


    ¡°The fuck?¡± Behind me, the man snapped, ¡°This ain¡¯t a theater, kid. Get going or pay to use the TV.¡± He stepped around me, then paused at the scene on the television before grunting, ¡°They¡¯ve been talking about this shit all day. You know they got people saying that idiot was taunting Cu¨¦lebre? Actually saying shit to piss him off even more. How stupid do you have to be to do something like that, am I right?¡±


    Slowly, I nodded. ¡°Oh yeah, you¡¯re definitely right.


    ¡°You¡¯d have to be pretty damn stupid.¡±


    *******


    Well damn, a magic idea about how to get the ¡®not for sale¡¯ items from Seraph Hills without jumping into World War 3 hadn¡¯t magically occurred to me while I did the rest of the shopping.


    On the plus side, I managed to collect everything on the ¡®expensive but doable¡¯ list aside from what my new friend back at the junkyard place said he¡¯d have in twenty-four hours. It was all back at Wren¡¯s new shop, while I tried to decide how to actually tackle the hardest part of the list.


    At the moment, I was sitting on a roof a good distance away from the medical school and attached teaching hospital, with my back against one of the air conditioners. I had been staring at the place for the past ten minutes, waiting for something¡­ anything to occur to me. I had changed back into my costume to do this (the Paintball costume, that was, though my hair was still dyed and everything as well), so that I wouldn¡¯t stand out sitting up here.


    Okay, so they wouldn¡¯t sell the stuff we needed (and I was pretty sure at the prices they might sell or rent them for, even I couldn¡¯t afford them without attracting attention from my parents), so I had to get the stuff another way. Without stealing them or causing some huge problem. Which¡­ yeah, led to me sitting here, staring at the buildings, parking lots, expensive-looking cars, huge fences, roving security, and so on. This¡­ was complicated.


    I¡¯d even used the phone with the provided number that Double Down provided to ask if La Casa had any way of getting the stuff. Only not the way Pack had suggested. More subtly and¡­ well, legitimately. There was a bit of back and forth, but what it amounted to was that they could eventually get stuff that high-end and specialized, but it would take time. Time we didn¡¯t have. And Blackjack wasn¡¯t going to risk his daughter getting that close to death again by extending the time limit. As he put it, Ashton would cross the deadline before she did.


    Blackjack had, however, made clear that he would send an army to steal the things we needed, consequences be damned. I¡¯d had to talk him out of that, telling him that I would find another way. He told me to call him back when I couldn¡¯t, or to just ask Pack to give the word.


    Honestly, as much as I didn¡¯t want it to, I was starting to think it was going to come down to that.


    Then it happened. The sound of a rumbling truck caught my attention, and I glanced over the roof to watch a heavy truck heading past my building on its way to Seraph Hills. The name on the side was ¡®Taurus¡¯, which made me frown behind the mask and helmet.


    Taurus. One of many, many companies owned or partly owned by my family was Taurus. As a company, they delivered and maintained high end equipment all over the country. They worked with things like computer servers, prototype stuff put out by tech-touched, stuff like that. Basically, their whole thing was that they built the stuff (or had it built for them), delivered it, and maintained it in cases of the stuff breaking down or needing scheduled regular upkeep. Dad had let me see one of the warehouses and garages where the trucks were kept once. He even let me go under the truck to check it out from underneath, since he knew how much I loved cars and engines, and showed me the workshop area where they brought faulty equipment in to work on it.


    He¡­ wait. Wait a minute.


    Slowly, I stood up, straightening as I watched the truck head right through the gate at the medical center, making its delivery. Standing there, I stared for a moment, my brain working wildly. My hand found its way to my pocket, and I called a number that Pack had given me.


    She answered after a couple rings. ¡°Hey, you ready to give up on the martyr routine and get this done? We¡¯ve got people just waiting to go.¡±


    ¡°Is one of those people good with computers?¡± I asked. ¡°Do you have some kind of hacker?¡±


    There was a brief pause before she replied, ¡°Uhhh, yeah you could say I know someone good. Why?¡±


    ¡°Get them. Tell them to meet us somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± came the answer. ¡°But do you mind telling me why I¡¯m calling in a hacker when we can just use Blackjack¡¯s literal army to go straight in and grab what we need?¡±


    I watched the hospital in the distance. ¡°Because we¡¯re not starting a war, Pack. We¡¯re not stealing anything from Seraph Hills. Not for long, anyway.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to get your hacker access to the computer systems of the company that fixes and delivers the stuff. We¡¯ll get the thing we need added to the maintenance list, wait for them to bring it out to take to the lab, get it off the truck en route without hurting anyone and without being noticed, then take it off the maintenance list so they don¡¯t know it¡¯s missing. After that, we do what we need with it, stick it back onto the list after we¡¯re done, and have it sent right back into Seraph Hills before anyone knows there¡¯s anything wrong.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± There was a brief pause before Pack replied, ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound bad. Except you kind of skimmed over the part where we get it off that truck without hurting anyone and without, you know, them finding out it was stolen. How do you think we¡¯re gonna pull that off?¡±


    ¡°How?¡± I smiled a little, not that she could see it. ¡°Very carefully.


    ¡°And we¡¯re gonna need that invisible gorilla-lizard of yours.¡±

 Collectors 5-04

    ¡°So, not that I wouldn¡¯t have brought him anyway,¡± Pack informed me in a slow, deliberate voice, ¡°but why exactly do we need Twinkletoes?¡± As she spoke, the girl stared at me. Well, I assumed she was staring. That full face-covering black mask made it hard to tell sometimes.


    We were standing in an alley, a couple streets away from the main Taurus repair facility. Pack had her lizards in their cage at her feet, aside from the chameleon (Twinkletoes, apparently), who lay draped over her left shoulder, watching me with a kind of lazy curiosity.


    ¡°That¡¯s for tomorrow,¡± I replied. ¡°I figured¨Cwell, one step at a time. You said you¡¯d bring a hacker?¡± Pausing, I added a bit plaintively, ¡°Please tell me it isn¡¯t one of the lizards.¡± Immediately after I said it, my head shook. ¡°Wait, what the hell am I saying? Is it? Because that would be awesome.¡±


    ¡°It would be, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± the other girl agreed with what sounded like a grin. Then she sighed. ¡°But no, sorry. He¡¯s on his way. I told him where to meet us, and he should be here any¡­¡± There was a brief hesitation as she looked around. ¡°He should be here any¡­ aaaany miiiii¡­¡± Sighing, Pack waved her hand. ¡°Never mind, that would¡¯ve been really cool timing. I guess he¡¯ll be¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± The voice came abruptly from the opposite end of the alley, as a figure came rushing around the corner. With a splash, their right foot hit a puddle, sending water spraying everywhere as the person cursed, stumbling a bit and almost falling before catching themselves against a nearby dumpster with a very undignified yelp.


    Dark as it was, the nearby streetlight at least gave me a good enough look at the person to make out details once they straightened from the dumpster. It was a guy, who stood about five foot eight or so. Thin, with an obvious costume consisting of dark gold pants (now with wet spots on them from the puddle), black boots, and a black silk shirt with what looked like ruffles on it that had gold piping along the sides. His mask was a pair of criss-crossed diagonal bands across his face, one stretching from the top left of his forehead and going down across his left eye and over his nose and right cheek, while the other did the opposite. One band was gold, the other black. His mouth was left uncovered, and he wore a black derby hat.


    Snorting at his arrival, Pack gestured. ¡°We were so close to timing that right, dude. Anyway, here we go. Eits, this is Paintball. Our, you know¡­ friend, for now. Paintball, this is Eits.¡±


    Blinking at that, I asked curiously, ¡°Eights? Like¡­ six, seven¡­ eight? Crazy eights?¡±


    The guy cleared his throat, pushing away from the dumpster to extend a hand to me while stepping over. He sounded embarrassed, and I could see the hint of a blush on what little of his face wasn¡¯t covered. ¡°Uh, kind of, but not exactly. It¡¯s E-I-T-S, just pronounced eights.¡±


    ¡°Eits,¡± I repeated, hesitantly shaking his hand. He was a villain, right? These guys were both villains. So why was I shaking hands and being all friendly with¨Cnever mind, that was a situation to work out later. Too confusing to worry about right now. ¡°I guess that stands for something?¡±


    Releasing my hand, the masked guy nodded. ¡°Yeah, it stands for Eye-In-The-Sky. You know, what they call security cameras in places like casinos.¡± He shrugged then. ¡°Most people guess Crazy Eights like you did though, so I guess it kind of works as a twofer.¡±


    ¡°Eye-In-The-Sky? So, I guess your power is like¡­ security system based?¡± I wondered if this was the right thing to be saying. Was it rude to ask people directly what their power was? Was the level of that rudeness magnified or lessened by them also being villains?


    Either way, Eits apparently wasn¡¯t offended, because he easily replied, ¡°Sort of. I make these guys.¡± With that, he held his hand out, palm up. A moment later, a glowing ghost-like figure appeared on it. The thing was a humanoid figure, maybe five inches tall, blueish-green and faintly glowing. Like, again, a ghost. Leaning closer, I saw that it had four arms, two legs, long ears like a rabbit, and bright glowing purple eyes. It looked up at me, made a hissing sound, and showed its (rather pronounced and scary-looking) teeth.


    ¡°He¡¯s not an enemy, stop that,¡± Eits insisted. ¡°Sorry, he can¡¯t actually hurt you or anything. See, no solid body.¡± His finger brushed through the figure, which I then realized wasn¡¯t standing on his hand, but floating just a bit above it. ¡°They¡¯re just a bit¡­ protective. I call them my Mites. Miniature Invaluable Technology Elves. I know, it needs work. But Mites works for them.¡±


    ¡°Uh, hi.¡± I waved, feeling a bit awkward before looking up to the guy again. ¡°They¡¯re not solid?¡±


    His head shook. ¡°Nope. So, you know, they¡¯re about as much help in a fight as I am. Which is to say, not at all. It¡¯s why I got the name Eye-In-The-Sky, because I don¡¯t fight. Too¡­ uncoordinated. But I am good at keeping track of a lot of things at once. Multitasking. It¡¯s kind of a sub-power. And what my Mites lack in firepower, they make up for with¡­ well¡­ here.¡±


    With that, he turned, rearing back his hand before hurling the Mite like a baseball. The ghostly creature let out a shriek of delight as it flew straight down and out of the alley before hitting a car parked out on the street. A second later, the car turned on, headlights flashing twice before the car pulled away from the curb with a squeal of tires. I swore I heard a loud gremlin-like cackle.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be right back and put that thing where he found it,¡± Eits informed me as I stared at the empty spot where the car had been. ¡°You get the point. They take over computers, machines, anything technological and control it for me. High enough security gives them trouble, but I just send more in to help. Anything from one of the good Tech-Touched out there basically takes my whole crew, so no taking over an entire army of super tech equipment. Plus if they¡¯re good, they tend to install defenses against my kind of intrusion. Still pretty useful though.¡±


    ¡°You said you keep track of a lot of things at once,¡± I murmured, fascinated about this whole thing despite myself. ¡°Does that mean you can see through them or¡­ or something?¡±


    ¡°Basically, yeah,¡± he confirmed. ¡°I sort of¡­ see through my eyes and theirs at the same time, any time I want to. Then once they take over the computer or camera or whatever, I give it orders through them. They control it, but they¡¯re doing what I ask. It¡¯s a little confusing, but¨C¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯ll get the point,¡± Pack interrupted. ¡°Look, we could go on comparing powers forever. How about we focus on the actual reason we¡¯re here, huh? I mean, we do have a time crunch.¡±


    By that point, the car had returned, and Eits held his hand out that way. His little Mite thing came flying back, landing against his palm before fading from sight as it was¡­ absorbed back into him or something. Then he nodded. ¡°Right, yeah, sure. Sorry. Pack said you needed someone to help you take over a computer and change the maintenance schedule or something?¡±


    Quickly, I explained the situation and what I wanted, ending with, ¡°So I figure we can just put the thing we want onto the schedule to be picked up and worked on tomorrow morning, then quietly grab it on the way here. Then we just take it off the schedule so they don¡¯t know it¡¯s missing, do what we need to do, put it back on the schedule, and secretly give it back on the next trip.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± the boy agreed, ¡°If we can get close to the computer that does the scheduling, my little guys can fix that much. They could even make it automatically add the thing back onto the schedule at a given time so we don¡¯t have to come back. But how exactly are you going to get it off the truck ¡®secretly¡¯ without letting them know they¡¯ve been robbed?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I keep asking,¡± Pack pointed out while idly scratching Twinkletoes behind his head.. ¡°He¡¯s being pretty secretive about it, but apparently it involves my little friend here.¡±


    Flushing a little behind my mask and helmet, I protested, ¡°I¡¯m not being secretive, I¡¯m just focusing on one thing at a time. We have to fix the schedule first. Then we can work on the plan for getting the thing off the truck without hurting anyone.¡± I stressed that last bit pointedly.


    ¡°He says that like we¡¯re villains or something,¡± Eits intoned dryly before shrugging. ¡°But sure, I get it. Anything to help Mel¨C¡± He grunted as Pack elbowed him. ¡°I mean, Blackjack¡¯s kid.¡±


    ¡°Which means getting into that place,¡± Pack reminded us with a gesture in the vague direction of the Taurus facility. ¡°And I suppose you want that to be done without hurting anyone too?¡±


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I nodded. ¡°That would be nice, yes. Quietly and cleanly. I mean, beyond my own preferences, I¡¯m pretty sure our whole plan would be in trouble if they had any reason to run a full scan of their systems or whatever, right?¡± Eits nodded, and I continued. ¡°Okay, so we sneak in, get to one of their scheduling databases and let your little Mites do their work, then get out.¡±


    ¡°And how are you planning to do that all secretly?¡± Pack asked, head tilted as she looked at me.


    ¡°Uh, very carefully,¡± I replied. ¡°But actually, probably easier now if the Mites can take over any of the security systems they can reach. They can deal with security cameras and alarms?¡±


    Eits nodded. ¡°Sure can, just have to get me close enough and they¡¯ll deal with it. Only problem is that they can¡¯t really get too far unless they¡¯re possessing something like that car over there. They only last a couple seconds away from me without taking control of something. So whatever you want to get them into, I¡¯ve gotta be pretty close to it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you inside,¡± I promised, stepping over to peek out of the alley at the building in the distance before turning back. ¡°But ahh, it¡¯d probably be easier with just the two of us.¡±


    Pack shrugged, gesturing to herself, the chameleon on her shoulder, and the four other lizards in the cage at her feet. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we know when not to be third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth wheels. I¡¯ll just stay out here with my buddies and play overwatch.¡±


    ¡°And here I didn¡¯t think you even had a computer with you,¡± I teased despite myself.


    Despite the mask, I could tell her eyes were rolling. ¡°I¡¯ll watch to see what happens and step in if you get in trouble.¡± Her hand moved to scratch Twinkletoes. ¡°See, the boy thinks he¡¯s a comedian and a superhero. Which one do you think he¡¯s best at?¡± After a brief pause as though listening, she gave a fake little scandalous gasp. ¡°A plumber? Well, that¡¯s just rude.¡±


    Snorting at her, I turned on my heel to face Eits. ¡°Come on, the best spot to uhh, jump in from is this building.¡± My hand patted the wall beside us. ¡°I was scouting it out earlier.¡±


    Unlocking the cage, Pack withdrew the bearded dragon. ¡°You kids go on. I¡¯ll send Riddles up to fly lookout. Anything happens, she¡¯ll start screeching and we¡¯ll play cavalry.¡±


    With that, I took Eits by the arms, glancing up to the roof above. ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± He trailed off uncertainly. ¡°Ready for whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!¡± The last bit, of course, came because I had shot blue paint at the ground, caught hold of him once more, and used the paint to shoot the two of us upward. Painting my arm purple to get a good grip on him, I used my other hand to shoot red at the edge of the roof, yanking us that way before letting the paint fade so that the momentum shot us up and over to land in a couple rolls.


    Scrambling over onto my knees, I looked at Eits laying there panting heavily on his back. ¡°Sorry, sorry.¡± I winced at his reaction. ¡°That sounded less assholey in my head. Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Gimme a second,¡± he murmured, putting a black-gloved hand over his mouth before making a brief dry heaving noise. Then he nodded and slowly sat up. ¡°Yeah. I uhh, sorry, I get a little¡­ motion sick sometimes. But it¡¯s okay, it only happens when I¡¯m in motion.¡±


    His words made me grimace. ¡°Seriously, I am so sorry about that. I thought it¡¯d be cool.¡±


    He waved me off, sounding just as embarrassed as I felt. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s cool. I suppose you don¡¯t meet a lot of supervillains who get motion sick after a single jump.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say as I meet a lot of supervillains at¨C¡± Pausing, I sighed. ¡°You know, now that I think about it, I have met more villains than heroes.¡± And at least one of the heroes I have met is actually a villain, which probably counts double, I thought to myself silently.


    Shaking that off, I helped Eits to his feet before stepping over to the edge of the roof. ¡°I umm, if you get motion sick, I¡¯m really sorry about this next part.¡± My hand gestured over to the large billboard in the distance. ¡°We have to jump over there, then go from there¡­¡± Slowly, I moved my hand, pointing to the roof of one of three buildings within the Taurus compound. ¡°To there. Then we wait for the security guard to go past before making a run for the garage at the far end of the lot. That¡¯s where they keep the delivery schedules, in the manager¡¯s office. We get in there, you do your thing, and we get out again. Does my saying it all matter-of-factly like this make me sound confident enough to pull it off?¡± As I spoke, my suit turned solid black. Easier to blend in to the shadows.


    ¡°Uh.¡± Eits looked at me before giving a thumbs up. ¡°Sure. Does my saying that make it sound like I¡¯m going to avoid throwing up from all that jumping and falling?¡±


    I duplicated his thumbs up. ¡°Sure. Just try to aim away from me, huh? Ready for this?¡±


    He nodded, giving me the okay sign. ¡°Nope. I wanna go home.¡±


    ¡°Cool,¡± I replied, ¡°go for it, as soon as we get that schedule set up.¡± I looked both ways then, making sure the coast was clear before wrapping my arm around his waist. Holding tight with a bit of purple along my sleeve and my pants, I activated it all, lunging out over the street with the boy clinging to me as he yelped. The ground rushed up, but I used red paint to get us the rest of the way to land on top of the billboard. Eits stumbled, but I quickly steadied him. ¡°It¡¯s okay, catch your breath. Halfway there. One more big jump. But uhh, you see that?¡±


    He looked, as I pointed all the way down at the building near the one we were about to jump to. ¡°The security camera going back and forth? Yeah, I see it. You want something done about it?¡±


    ¡°I figured we were gonna have to get real creative with hanging off one side,¡± I replied, ¡°but if you could fix it, that¡¯d be great.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Yeah, one of my little friends can deal with it. If you time our¡­¡± There was a pause before the boy gulped. ¡°¡­our landing for when the camera is at the far end of its turn, I can take it over and make it just send back the same view it did for the past few turns. They¡¯ll notice if we take too long though.¡±


    ¡°Then we won¡¯t take too long,¡± I assured him. After a brief check to make sure no guards were in sight, I checked the timing of the camera before taking hold of the boy. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Remember, barf away from me.¡±


    That said, I held him firmly, used my paint, and leapt out. Eits made a noise suggesting that he was restraining a scream, as we flew out and across the rest of the street, passing high over the stone wall and electrified fence before I pulled us straight to the roof of the smaller building far below.


    We landed, scrambling a bit. My eyes snapped up to see the camera starting its way back, but Eits was already on it. Even as he was still gagging a bit, his hand flung that Mite of his across the pathway between buildings, hitting the camera with it. The Mite disappeared, and the camera simply continued moving.


    ¡°It¡¯s cool,¡± the boy assured me. ¡°They¡¯re not seeing any of this.¡±


    I started to respond, then quickly yanked him down to lay flat with me on our backs. ¡°Guard,¡± I whispered. ¡°Stay down.¡±


    We lay there, being as silent as possible as the security guard made his way past, keys jangling almost in tune with his whistling. As we were waiting, I had a moment to wonder about myself. Exactly what kind of hero was I? What kind of hero broke into a place to set up a high tech robbery?


    The kind of hero that was trying to save a little girl, and who didn¡¯t know who could be trusted, considering her father is both a supervillain and the lead hero in the city. And besides, we were just borrowing the thing. We¡¯d give it back after we were done. There wasn¡¯t time to go through all of this the right way.


    But that didn¡¯t stop me from feeling guilty.


    Realizing the guard was gone, I snapped myself out of my inner debate, rolling over to peer over the edge. The building was only a couple stories tall, so it was easy to help Eits down with a bit of orange and black paint (the latter to keep it silent). From there, we made the run to the garage. He had to deal with two more cameras on the way, and once we were there, used a fourth Mite to mess with the electronic lock and attached alarm so we could get in.


    The garage was pretty dark, and we really didn¡¯t want to turn on a light. So it took some time to find our way past a few trucks, over to the stairs, then up to the manager¡¯s office. There, I waited and played lookout while Eits and his Mite did their work. Every second felt like an eternity, but it actually went fairly quickly and easily. Within about two minutes or so, he had it set up. The bit we needed was on the list to be retrieved in the morning for scheduled maintenance. It would subsequently disappear from the list later, before the truck was scheduled to return for drop-off.


    He¡¯d actually even improved on the plan. There was a box of random supplies and parts sitting around the place. We taped that up and printed out a new shipping label for it with a delivery code. When we took the box out of the truck tomorrow, we would replace it with this one and, thanks to his little hacking job, the computer would switch the model number on the box we were taking with this one. That way, even if the driver knew exactly how many boxes he had, he¡¯d still have the same number. And when he scanned the codes, they¡¯d all come up as the right ones.


    ¡°Take this too.¡± Eits instructed, handing me a piece of paper with an e-mail and phone number scrawled on it. ¡°I managed to give myself a backdoor into their scheduling system here. Shoot me a text, e-mail, call, whatever, when you need to return the toy. I¡¯ll set it up to be delivered.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured, looking at the paper before stuffing it away. ¡°I guess we should get out of here, huh?¡±


    He nodded slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we could use the front gate.¡±


    ¡°Probably a bad idea if we don¡¯t want to get caught and interrogated,¡± I reminded him while patting the boy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, one more trip. And hey, you¡¯ve managed to avoid throwing up so far. If you keep up the record before we¡¯re done, maybe I¡¯ll buy you a pizza.¡±


    ¡°And if I don¡¯t,¡± he replied, ¡°I¡¯ll buy you one.¡±


    In the end¡­ he owed me pizza.

 Collectors 5-05

    ¡°You sure this plan of yours is gonna work?¡±


    It was the next morning. I had gone to school for the first couple periods before taking off. With a call from ¡®my dad¡¯, of course, thanks to my voice changer. As far as the school was concerned, I had a doctor¡¯s appointment and would be back to school as soon as it was over. Which gave me time to (hopefully) get this component that Wren needed away from the delivery truck so she could finish that little project.


    Looking over to where Pack was leaning against the wall in the alley we were hiding out in, I shrugged. ¡°If I was sure it was going to work, it¡¯d be a memory, not a plan. But it¡¯s the best we¡¯ve got. Unless you¡¯ve had any better ideas about how to get that thing off the truck?¡± As I spoke, my eyes glanced to the side, where Mars Bar the iguana-bear and Holiday the panther-skink were waiting as well. Tuesday, the gecko-monkey, was sitting on top of a nearby dumpster, playing with¡­ I didn¡¯t know what he was playing with. Nor did I want to know.


    Expression hidden behind her full face mask, Pack shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about it, but nope. You¡¯re right, this pretty much seems like our best shot. If you¡¯re absolutely positive that you don¡¯t want to just call in Blackjack to deal with it. I¡¯m pretty sure he could get that thing.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t really care all that much about who got hurt in the process,¡± I reminded her pointedly. ¡°We can do this without help, and without sending in an army of thugs to stampede over that poor driver. Scaring him just a little bit maybe, but not hurting him.¡±


    Once again, she shrugged. ¡°If you say so. Still think you¡¯re overcomplicating this, but I guess it¡¯s your show.¡± As she said that, the girl glanced up to the roof of the building where the lizard-bird Riddles was perched and had just made a soft cawing noise. ¡°Right then, that truck¡¯s on its way. Just turned onto our street, so we¡¯ve got about twenty seconds. You ready for this?¡±


    ¡°Guess I better be,¡± I replied before cracking my neck from one side, then the other. Bouncing up and down on my heels a couple times, I breathed out. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s do it. Just¡­ you know.¡±


    She nodded once. ¡°Yup. Okay, Mars, carefully, just like we practiced.¡± Giving a quick glance up to her bird for the exact timing, the girl finally made a gesture with her hand. ¡°Now!¡±


    And just like that, the enormous bear-lizard picked me up from behind. I tried to brace myself, but even knowing it was coming, it was still terrifying. Holding me up above his head, the grizzard gave a deafening, pants-wetting roar before hurling me out of the alley.


    With a yelp, I went flying end over end through the air. From the corner of my eye, I could see the Taurus truck almost directly under me. The driver was even leaning forward, craning his neck while already slamming on the brakes. The squeal of the tires on the street filled the air, and I shot a bit of red paint down to yank myself straight at the hood of the truck before landing in a crouch on it. The paint held me in place even as the truck jerked to a sudden, wild halt.


    ¡°What the hell!?¡± I heard the driver shouting, even as he started to open the door, standing up and leaning out to stare at me with wide eyes. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re¨C¡±


    His words were cut off then, as he caught a glimpse of movement from the alley I had just been thrown out of. Looking that way, he very clearly saw Mars Bar and Holiday charging, because he made a noise of shock and started to sit back down so he could close his door. But I was faster, throwing myself off the hood to ground just past the driver before shooting red paint at him to yank him toward my suddenly red gloves with a shouted, ¡°Get down!¡±


    The man collided with me and we went tumbling, just before Riddles swooped through the open door of his truck with a loud screech. At the same time, Mars Bar shouldered his way past the truck, bumping it hard with another roar. Boy was he hamming this whole thing up.


    At least, I hoped he was hamming it up. Pack had insisted the grizzard completely understood that this was all fake, and I was praying she was right about that. This would suck otherwise.


    Coming to a stop, I made sure to end up on top of the poor driver. He grunted under the impact, and I blurted a quick, ¡°Sorry, sorry! Stay down!¡± Patting his side, I rolled off the man before shooting off a wide spray of red paint toward the charging Holiday and Mars Bar. Activating it yanked the two into one another. It wasn¡¯t all that hard, and definitely less than they could actually take. But the two animals still gave loud howls of pain and surprise before falling in opposite directions. Apparently they thought this was the time for their Oscar reels.


    ¡°Hey!¡± The shout came from Pack herself, as the girl came running with a bat in her hand. Seeing her, I reached down to wrap an arm around the driver, coloring part of myself purple before using a shot of red paint to yank us up to the roof of a nearby fast food joint. There I carefully set him down. ¡°You okay?¡± I quickly asked, glancing between him and the others.


    The man¡¯s eyes were wide as he stared at me from his seated position. ¡°I¨CI don¡¯t know! What¨C¡±


    ¡°Hold that thought,¡± I blurted. ¡°One sec, gotta deal with this.¡± With that, I leapt off the building, throwing myself into a lunge aided by a bit of blue paint that sent me flying at Pack. The two of us collided, sprawling end over end. Her bat fell away, and she swung at me with her right fist, actually connecting, though not that hard. I still made a point of staggering before grabbing onto her and giving a sharp whistle toward Mars Bar, Riddles, and Holiday. ¡°Hey, you guys like your owner? Well, come get her then!¡± That said, I used more red paint to yank myself toward the same alley we had emerged from, with the trio of lizard-animals charging after us.


    Landing in the alley, I checked to make sure no one was watching. We¡¯d already planned out exactly where to leave the driver so that he wouldn¡¯t have line of sight either to the back of the truck or the inside of the alley here. And I¡¯d moved the dumpster from the side of the building itself so that he couldn¡¯t easily climb down. For a moment at least, he was stuck up there.


    ¡°We good?¡± I quickly asked Pack after setting her down. My three ¡®pursuers¡¯ came lumbering into the alley as well, slowing as soon as they were out of sight of the street.


    In response, she glanced to the side. ¡°Twinkletoes?¡±


    At her words, the gorilla-chameleon appeared, complete with a little metal collar around his neck that had a cell phone hooked into it. He grunted, reaching down to the side of the dumpster before picking up a crate with the Seraph Hills logo on it. It looked pretty similar to the one Eits and I had taken from the Taurus building the night before, though maybe slightly larger.


    I hoped it was the right one. Eits had given Pack that collar to put on Twinkletoes. The cell phone in the collar had a little camera on the front that was supposed to have scanned the serial numbers attached to the crates on the truck and chime when it scanned the right one. Supposedly, Twinkletoes would have made his way invisibly onto the truck, moved around until the thing gave him a pleasant chime, then took the box that prompted it, leaving all the other ones. That was the idea, anyway. Like with the others and our play-fighting, Pack insisted he understood the explanation, and the few test runs we¡¯d done with other boxes had seemed to work out. So¡­ here was hoping.


    Pack was already stepping that way. She picked up the crate, checked the serial number against a piece of paper that she¡¯d written it on, then gave me a thumbs up. ¡°We¡¯re good.¡±


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    Exhaling the breath I hadn¡¯t even been aware that I was holding, I returned the gesture before starting to move. ¡°Keep Riddles out of sight,¡± I reminded her, not wanting the driver to see the bird-lizard that had ¡®almost gotten him¡¯ hanging around. That¡¯d probably be suspicious.


    I took off then, not out of the mouth of the alley we¡¯d just come through, but past Twinkletoes and Pack, to the opposite street. There, I used red paint to pull myself up to the next building over, right on the corner, took a running start, and launched myself with blue paint out over the street with the parked truck. There were cars backed up there, and a few that were pulling around. This wasn¡¯t a busy street (we¡¯d intentionally chosen it that way), but it had been parked there for a couple minutes by that point.


    Coming down on the roof of the fast food place, I startled the driver, who jerked reflexively from where he¡¯d been talking on his phone. Apparently he¡¯d called for help. When he saw me, the man settled. ¡°Yeah, yeah the paint kid¡¯s right here. Guess you don¡¯t need the ladder after all.¡±


    He disconnected, and I offered a weak, ¡°Sorry about that. Are you¡­ are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Fine, I guess,¡± the man replied in a voice that was still just a little shaky. Thankfully, he seemed unhurt. ¡°What happened to¨Cuhh¡­¡±


    ¡°Pack,¡± I replied. ¡°One of La Casa. And she got away. I didn¡¯t want to leave you here too long. Should¡¯ve figured you had a phone.¡± Kicking the roof, I injected embarrassment into my voice while squirming with feigned self-consciousness. ¡°Guess I should¡¯ve kept chasing her.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± the man muttered. ¡°I hope she didn¡¯t take off with any of my shipment. God damn it, you have any idea what kind of paperwork is inv¨C¡± He stopped then, wincing. ¡°I mean, sorry. Sorry, kid, you were great out there. Didn¡¯t mean to sound ungrateful. Thanks for your work.¡±


    Oh boy, did I ever feel guilty right then. It would¡¯ve been easier if he was a jerk, or at least dismissive. Swallowing, I nodded and reached out to him. ¡°Here, I¡¯ll help you get down, then make sure no one bothers you while you look through your shipment. I didn¡¯t see her get near it, so it¡¯s probably fine. But ahh, I¡¯ll wait until you look through it. That¡¯s the least I can do.¡±


    After all, I didn¡¯t add, I kinda have to stick around to make sure our little ruse really worked.


    Helping the man down, I walked with him back to his truck. There was a uniformed cop there, already writing out a ticket. When he saw us approaching, the officer stopped. ¡°You the driver?¡±


    We explained the situation, and the cop agreed not to ticket the guy (another potential problem off my conscience), and stuck around while he went into the back of the truck to check his load.


    Meanwhile, the cop and I stood outside the truck and waited. His name was Officer Lensroy, and because I so needed another reason to feel guilty about this, he was really nice. He asked me questions about being chased by Cu¨¦lebre, and seemed genuinely interested. He even made a few jokes. All of which made it harder and harder to stand there and lie to both him and the driver. But I had to. For Blackjack¡¯s daughter, I had to. I¡¯d make sure everything worked out.


    I hoped.


    Finally, the driver stepped down. ¡°Looks good,¡± he announced with a voice of relief. ¡°Never saw that girl go anywhere near the truck, and neither did ahh, Paintball was it?¡± When I nodded, he continued. ¡°Neither did Paintball. And my handy little scanner here says every box is accounted for.¡± He waved the small device in his hand.


    I suppressed the urge to openly sigh in relief. It had worked. Twinkletoes managed to switch our box with the one that was already on the truck, and Eits¡¯ little delayed magic with the computer system set the serial number on our box as the one that was supposed to be on the truck. Perfect.


    Congratulating the man on his truck being safe, I made my farewells. As I started to leave, Officer Lensroy called out, ¡°Hey, one second!¡±


    A million things went through my mind just then, as I slowly turned my gaze back to him, waiting. No way was I going to say something potentially incriminating in that moment.


    The cop smiled at me. ¡°Whoever you are, you run back to school now, you hear? Ain¡¯t no emergency going on, and that lizard girl, wherever she is, ain¡¯t causing trouble at the moment. Get on back to your classes. Hero or not, don¡¯t you go making me call the truant officer.¡±


    Flushing a little, I saluted the man. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± And I meant it. I would be going back to class.


    Just as soon as I made sure Wren had everything she needed to start building that suit.


    *******


    It was the right piece. With that and what I picked up from the junkyard guy, Wren had what she needed. So now she was busy working. Pack and Fred were going to be running any physical errands she needed done over the day, and I would check in later. Hopefully, there wouldn¡¯t be any unexpected problems.


    It was only after I¡¯d left that I realized I hadn¡¯t actually asked Pack what her school situation was like. Which probably made me worse at this whole hero thing than Officer Lensroy.


    In any case, for the moment, I was back in class. Or rather, lunch. As we had fairly often over the past little while, Jae, Amber, and I were eating while talking about our project.


    That was the idea, anyway. Mostly we gossiped, joked, and basically just hung out. We did work on the project too, of course. It was just¡­ not as much time or effort as we spent talking.


    ¡°So Cass,¡± Amber was saying as she stirred her pasta salad idly, ¡°you must be happy about Tomas, right?¡±


    I blinked at her blankly, idly doodling with a colored pencil in my notebook. ¡°Happy about Tomas?¡±


    ¡°You know, Tomas Jackson?¡± she prompted. ¡°That diplomat¡¯s kid from¨C¡±


    ¡°From London,¡± I finished for her, nodding as I absently picked up a different colored pencil and sketched a bit more. ¡°Yeah, I know who you mean. But why would I be happy about him? He went home last year.¡±


    ¡°You mean you don¡¯t¨C¡± Stopping, Amber blinked toward the silent Jae, then back to me. ¡°He¡¯s back, Cassidy. He was in my first class this morning. You didn¡¯t know that? I¨C¡± Realizing what she¡¯d said then, the girl flushed. ¡°I mean¨Csorry, I guess he just hasn¡¯t had a chance to¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I assured her. ¡°I¨Cwe broke it off when he went back to London anyway. I haven¡¯t even exchanged more than a couple e-mails and texts since then. And I was at the doctor¡¯s earlier. Maybe I would¡¯ve run into him then.¡± I shrugged, thinking about that. ¡°He really moved back here?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Something about his dad getting another assignment, right, Jae?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what he said,¡± the Albino girl confirmed quietly. She was watching me with a thoughtful, somewhat curious expression. About what, I couldn¡¯t say.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Amber decided, nodding. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll come find you, he probably just has the other lunch period. So, you know, be ready for that.¡± She gave me an easy smile, eyes glancing down before widening. ¡°Holy crap, dude.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Blinking the way she was staring, I found myself looking at the doodle in my notebook.


    It wasn¡¯t a doodle. Somehow, while not really paying attention, I had used my colored pencils to draw and color a pretty damn good image of a knight fighting a dragon.


    ¡°What, yourself,¡± Amber retorted, clearly thinking that I was just being falsely modest. ¡°Can I see?¡± She waited until I moved my arm before tugging the notebook over. ¡°Holy shit. That¡¯s¨Cwhen did you learn how to draw like this? That¡¯s really good. That¡¯s like¡­ professional quality.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± I hadn¡¯t. I¡¯d never drawn like that in my life. I¡¯d taken no lessons for it or anything. I hadn¡¯t even really been paying attention. So¡­ how? How had I just done that? Was it part of my power? It had to do with like¡­ colors and stuff, was it related? It had to be, right? But¡­ but¡­


    Realizing both the girls were staring at me, I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I mumbled, ¡°It¡¯s not that big of a deal.¡±


    ¡°Dude, trust me, this is a big deal.¡± Amber waved the notebook, sliding it to Jae for her to see better. ¡°Like I said, that¡¯s totally professional quality. Seriously good professional. You could be a comic book artist or¨Cor something. And you did that just sitting here talking? That¡¯s awesome. You¡¯ve gotta show me some other stuff.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Swallowing back my total confusion, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±


    Jae slid the notebook back to me, offering a smile and a quiet, ¡°It¡¯s really good.¡±


    I stared at the drawing briefly. They were right. It was good. My hand pressed down against it, as I felt that rush of confusion and uncertainty come back. How did I draw like that without even thinking about it? Was ¡®super-artist¡¯ really a side effect of my power? Why?


    Between that and the news that Tomas had apparently come back, I had a lot to think about that lunch period.


    And here I¡¯d thought that I was going to be bored for the rest of the day.

 Collectors 5-06

    Stopping next to the door leading into the band room after school was over, I listened for a moment. Sure enough, the sound of the guitar portion of The Who¡¯s ¡®My Generation¡¯ came from within. Smiling a little to myself, I took a breath before giving the door a little push as I stepped in.


    He was there. Tomas Jackson. He looked¡­ basically like I remembered, though a couple inches taller. He had naturally pale skin that had always made him look almost like a vampire or something, coupled with eyes that were a piercing dark green, and dark blonde, almost brown hair that was worn down to his shoulders. His build was fairly slender, though his arms had filled out somewhat since I¡¯d seen him last. As always (whenever he could get away with it by not being specifically in class), he wore a leather jacket with the name of some British punk band on it instead of his actual school uniform jacket.


    Mostly faced away from me, his attention seemingly focused entirely on the guitar he was strumming, Tomas nonetheless stopped once I had fully entered. He turned to glance over his shoulder, giving me an easy smile as my name slipped from his lips. ¡°Cassidy Evans.¡±


    ¡°Hi, Tomas,¡± I managed. My heart was beating hard, despite the fact that our relationship was supposed to be over. But we¡¯d broken up out of necessity. He¡¯d had to leave. Being boyfriend and girlfriend from across an ocean might¡¯ve seemed romantic in some respects, but we¡¯d both known it was a bad idea. So we broke up. I¡¯d¡­ well, I hadn¡¯t exactly moved on, considering I didn¡¯t have another boyfriend after him. But we¡¯d definitely gone our separate ways.


    But he was here now. And seeing him brought back all those old feelings. Stupid as it might¡¯ve been, part of me just wanted to go kiss him right then. I remembered kissing him, what it was like. I remembered the feeling of Tomas actually finding me attractive, and how much it helped me deal with the people who kept calling me a boy. I remembered that feeling. I missed it.


    And yet, I also didn¡¯t want to look like a desperate idiot. Shoving those thoughts and feelings down, I did my best to look and sound as casual as possible. ¡°Someone told me you were back. Figured you¡¯d come check this place out again. You ahh, you spent a lot of time here before.¡±


    ¡°We both did,¡± he reminded me, giving a brief strum to the guitar before setting it aside as he moved to sit down on the nearby carpeted step that led onto the small stage. ¡°You ahh, you wanna sit down? I was hoping you¡¯d show up. Missed you in class this morning.¡±


    ¡°I had a doctor¡¯s appointment,¡± I murmured under my breath before moving to join him on the stair, perching myself at the opposite side of it (so maybe four feet away). Part of me wondered if I should sit closer, then I rethought. Unfortunately, once I finally did sit down, I suddenly reconsidered. Would he take it as an insult that I didn¡¯t sit closer? Was he hoping I would? Was I hoping that he hoped I would? Did I¨Cwas I¨Cwhat in the hell was I even thinking right then?


    Of course, Tomas didn¡¯t look like he even noticed. He just gave me a brief look and smile as he pulled out his phone. ¡°You remember what I said I¡¯d do?¡± Holding up the phone, he showed me a picture of himself standing in front of the London Eye, holding a green balloon with a face drawn on it. Under the face was a name. Cassidy.


    ¡°Oh, my God! You total dick!¡± Shoving him with a laugh, I blurted, ¡°I told you not to use a balloon for that because of the whole ¡®airhead¡¯ thing, remember!?¡±


    Grinning back at me, he replied, ¡°Yeah, see, that just made me want to use a balloon even more.¡± Ignoring my sputtering, he started flipping through more pictures, showing me how he had taken the Cassidy balloon to every conceivable British tourist trap. ¡°And here¡¯s the airhead at Big Ben. Here we are at the Tower Bridge, at Buckingham. I wasn¡¯t gonna do that one, but you know, balloon you insisted. Then we have the London Dungeon. Almost left you there.¡±


    Flushing deeply, I kicked his ankle with my foot. ¡°You¡¯re a jerk, Tomas. I can¡¯t believe you even took all these pictures. What, just in case you came back someday?¡±


    ¡°Okay, actually, I did this like¡­ the day we left to come here,¡± he confessed with a snicker. ¡°Once I knew we were coming back.¡±


    ¡°So how long are you back for, anyway?¡± I asked, trying not to sound too much like I was prying. ¡°And wait, you only found out you were coming here right before you came? Was your dad keeping it a secret, or¡­¡±


    ¡°Apparently it was a last second thing,¡± Tomas informed me. ¡°Something about the last ambassador having some kind of conflict. As for how long we¡¯re saying, the assignment¡¯s supposed to keep him here at least until next Christmas. So¡­ most of a year, I guess? Not sure what¡¯s coming after that. But hey,¡± he added with a shrug, ¡°it means I get to be here for awhile, so I¡¯m dead chuffed, you know?¡±


    Winking at me, Tomas flicked through a couple more pictures on his phone before asking, ¡°So what¡¯ve you been up to, Miss Cassidy Evans? Jumped off any tall buildings lately?¡±


    The words made me do a quick double-take despite myself as I blurted, ¡°Wh-what?¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, the boy clarified. ¡°Remember, we were watching the video of those pillocks jumping off those buildings with the parachutes and wingsuits? I said it was stupid as fuck and you said you wanted to do it someday. So, you still think it¡¯s something you want to do?¡±


    It was stupid, but I almost told him the truth. Seriously, next to my family, Tomas had been basically one of my favorite people for a long time. I¡¯d confessed a lot of things to him that I hadn¡¯t told anyone else, not even my family. Add other things we¡¯d done and¡­ well, experimented with¡­ yeah, I really trusted him. It was so easy to fall into this natural rhythm. It felt like he¡¯d never left. If I could actually talk to someone I knew as well as Tomas about this¡­ maybe it would help.


    Or maybe it would just get him in trouble. What if he tried to tell his father the truth about my parents, thinking that his dad¡¯s diplomatic connections could do something? What if something bad happened, either to him or his father. Or¡­ my family. How did I feel about either of those?


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± Tomas asked gently, a slight frown touching his forehead as he watched me with obvious concern. ¡°Sorry, I¨Care you alright? You¡­ you look kind of¨C¡±


    Quickly, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¨CI just wasn¡¯t expecting to see you today. It¡¯s kinda surprising.¡±


    Pushing on from that, I told him a bit of the¡­ innocent stuff that I could say. I kept it casual, still uncertain of how much I should confide in him. I¡¯d trusted him for a long time. But then, I trusted my family too, and look where that ended up. If I couldn¡¯t trust my mom and dad, was there anyone I actually could?


    ¡°Oh, and I started doing this.¡± Reaching into my bag, I took out my notebook. I¡¯d been experimenting ever since lunch, drawing everything that popped into my head. I had sketch after sketch of monsters, people skateboarding, a ninja with a sword running along the top of a fighter jet that itself was shooting at some kind of giant flying squid¡­ yeah. And they all looked good. Like, really good. I just pictured the image in my head and my hand automatically transferred it to the paper, like I was xeroxing it straight from my brain to the page.


    ¡°Good holy shite, Cassidy,¡± Tomas blurted, taking the notebook as I extended it. His eyes were wide. ¡°When did you start drawing? This¡­ this is really you? No fooling?¡±


    ¡°No fooling,¡± I replied, already blushing despite myself. ¡°I uhh, I just started messing around with it and¡­ and I guess I¡¯m pretty good?¡±


    ¡°Pretty good?¡± he echoed, using the notebook to swat me lightly. ¡°This is professional stuff, you daft girl. You taking art classes? Cuz you should be.¡±


    ¡°I, umm¡­ not yet.¡± How could I explain that I¡¯d only just found out I could draw like that this morning? Or that it was probably some kind of side effect that came from the superpower involving paint. That was¡­ a whole other deep conversation. ¡°I haven¡¯t really put too much thought into it as more than a hobby.¡± Mostly because it had only even been that for a couple hours by this point.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°You need to do more with this,¡± Tomas urged me, gesturing to the artwork. ¡°Really. Hell, maybe I¡¯ll contract you to do the art for my band when¨C.¡±


    ¡°You have a¨C¡± I started.


    ¡°¨Cwhen I actually get a new band,¡± he finished with a self-deprecating snort.


    We smiled at each other for a moment. I was about to say something else, when my eyes happened to glance down toward the phone in his hand. There was a really hot guy on his lock screen. It wasn¡¯t Tomas. This one had short black hair and blue eyes. Seeing him there, I asked curiously, ¡°Hey, who¡¯s that guy?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, I meant to change that.¡± Tomas shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s Charlie. He¡¯s uhh, he was my boyfriend for awhile.¡±


    That made me do a double-take, my eyes snapping from the phone (though I couldn¡¯t see the picture anymore) up to him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, your what?¡±


    He wasn¡¯t looking at me. His attention was on the phone screen, a fond look in his eyes. ¡°Yeah, I ahhh¡­¡± Blinking up at me, Tomas winced. ¡°No, sorry. I know what you¡¯re thinking, Cassidy, but I¡¯m not gay. I¡¯m bi. Kinda figured it out like¡­ six months ago. I like girls and boys. And believe me, I like you for all kinds of girl-related reasons.¡±


    ¡°The people here literally teased you about being gay for dating me,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Just like they did Peter Fauning the year before that. And now you¡¯re saying that you actually are into guys? I mean, that¡¯s not¨Cit¡¯s not a problem or¡­ or it¡¯s just not a¡­ it¡¯s not any of my¡­ I mean¡­¡± My stammering cut off as I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m being stupid.¡±


    ¡°Cassidy, you are not being stupid,¡± Tomas assured me. ¡°I don¡¯t¨Cahh, I don¡¯t blame you for having feelings about it. You¡¯re right, those morons did say a lot of stupid shite. I don¡¯t pay it any more mind now than I did then. I like you cuz I like you. Boy, girl, it doesn¡¯t rightly matter. But ahhh, that said, I know that you¡¯ll need time. It¡¯s easy for me to say it doesn¡¯t matter to me, but you¡¯re different. It matters to you, and that part of it matters to me.¡±


    Wincing a little, I managed a weak, ¡°Damn it, Tomas, you¡¯re making it really hard to be a drama queen about this.¡±


    He gave me one of his patented perfect smiles then, shrugging one shoulder. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, we can pretend I said something stupid so you get to storm off. I¡¯ll even do the dramatic, ¡®Cassidy, wait, I¡¯m sorry!¡¯ and you can slam the door right in my face.¡±


    ¡°Right in your face?¡± I echoed, pretending to consider it.


    ¡°Boom, right there,¡± he agreed, pantomiming with his hand. ¡°So what do you say? Shall we put on our dramatic faces?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯m good without the drama,¡± I informed him with a little shudder. Despite our little banter right then, however, I still hesitated. ¡°But¡­ I do need a little time to think about everything.¡±


    He nodded once. ¡°I thought you might. Just know that whatever people say, I like you for you, Cassidy Evans. You think through everything you need to. My number¡¯s the same. Give me a ring when you feel like it.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help it. Leaning in, I gave him a hug, holding on for just a moment before pushing myself up. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ll talk to you later, Tomas. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re back and that you¡¯re¡­ doing okay.¡± Feeling suddenly even more awkward, confused, and out of my depth, I fumbled my way to the door and slipped out.


    I felt like an idiot. An overly emotional idiot. Yes, being with Tomas last year had done wonders for my confidence, the fact that he found me attractive and didn¡¯t think of me as a prepubescent boy had been huge. So finding out that he was attracted to both boys and girls was¡­ it was¡­


    It should have been nothing. I shouldn¡¯t care. He still liked me for me, so why did I have to make a big deal out of it?


    Emotions were stupid. I needed some kind of distraction.


    *******


    ¡°He¡¯s ours, you son of a bitch!¡± a guy in a red jacket with a black claw mark design across the back of it blurted. Arrayed around him, other guys (and a few girls) dressed similarly echoed the sentiment. All of them backed up the words by pointedly brandishing the guns and knives they were holding.


    An equal number of people faced them, holding weapons of their own and looking not the least bit intimidated by their opponents. One of those snarled, ¡°He came into our turf, cocksuckers. You come into our turf, you¡¯re ours. Just like him.¡±


    The two opposing groups were Fell-gang members, of course, though none were Touched, as far as I could tell. The first, led by the guy in the red jacket at the front, were members of the Easy Eights. These ones in particular were under one of the other lieutenants, not my old friend(s) Janus. Easy Eights, eight gangs, eight lieutenants. Going by the claw mark designs on their clothing, their particular leader was the woman known as Skadi, a Fell-Touched focused on hunting and wild animals. The group facing them, meanwhile, were more members of the Ninety-Niners. Between them, the object of their argument, was some random guy cowering on the ground with his arms over his head.


    ¡°We fucking chased him out here,¡± one of the Skadi-gang members snapped. ¡°We found him, we chased him, he¡¯s ours. That reward is ours. You get in the way, we¡¯ll put you down like dogs.¡±


    This was getting out of hand really fast. Any second now, these idiots were going to start shooting at each other. From my perch on the edge of the building where I had been watching this, I carefully aimed both hands before shooting off a spray of red paint from each. Quickly, I adjusted my aim so that the paint went over all of their guns. I tried to get any knives too, but mostly it was the guns.


    As the red paint sprayed over their weapons, the gang members all blurted out curses of surprise and confusion. Their gazes were already snapping my way for the source of the paint, even as I activated all of it, yanking all of the guns out of their hands and toward each other to collide before crashing into one big pile.


    By that point, even as a couple of the guys tried to lunge for the weapons, I had already hopped down to land on the sidewalk in front of them. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t do that.¡± The two who were scrambling that way each got hit with a spot of blue paint at their feet to send them flying. ¡°No guns until after you eat all your vegetables and clean up your bedrooms.¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s that Paintball shit!¡± One of the guys blurted, pointing his knife at me. ¡°The hell you want? This guy right here, he¡¯s our fucking bounty. Blackjack wants him and we¡¯re gonna fleece that motherfucker dry.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, good luck with that,¡± I replied with as casual a shrug as I could manage given the situation, ¡°cuz that¡¯s not Ashton Austin. Hey, you. Your name Ashton Austin?¡±


    ¡°N-no!¡± the man squeaked out, clearly terrified. ¡°My name¡¯s Tony Bastmer, these guys just started yelling and chasing me, so I ran away!¡± Now that he was looking up at me, I could see where they might make the mistake. He and Ashton were similar enough that they might have been related.


    ¡°Course he¡¯s gonna say that!¡± one of the Ninety-Niners snapped. ¡°He¡¯d be an idiot to admit who he is. Look at him. That¡¯s the guy.¡±


    ¡°You got some kind of ID?¡± I pressed, watching all of them looking back and forth between me and the guy on the ground.


    ¡°Oh like that fucking matters,¡± another guy retorted even as the one on the ground gave a frantic nod. ¡°Of course he¡¯ll have a fake ID. How stupid do you think we¨C¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± A new voice spoke up then, as a female figure emerged from the alley nearby. She gave me a passing glance, and I recognized her immediately. Skadi, the Easy Eight lieutenant over the group with the red jackets. She was a lithe woman with white tiger-print pants that tightly hugged her legs, black combat boots, a black leather jacket with the emblem of a tiger¡¯s face on the front of it and that familiar claw mark on the back (both in red), and a hard metal mask over the front of her face with holes in it for her eyes and mouth. The mask itself was silver, with a tiger¡¯s face emblazoned on it in red. Well, tiger for now. I happened to know that the woman could change the image on the mask at any point, between various predatory animals.


    Changing her mask image wasn¡¯t her power. That was just some kind of tech thing. Skadi¡¯s actual power had something to do with anticipating the actions, choices, and whatnot of anyone whose blood she¡­ well¡­ tasted. Yeah. She also had some other things like metal claws and maybe some kind of strength, speed, and other general enhancements. But mostly it was that whole ¡®taste someone¡¯s blood and then be able to predict what they do and just generally know things about them¡¯ thing.


    Seeing one of their enemy¡¯s Touched arrive made the handful of Ninety-Niners even less eager to pursue this. Several of them were already taking off, a couple more trying to seem strong but clearly ready to join their companions at any second.


    ¡°We got that Ashton guy,¡± one of the Easy Eight guys claimed, gesturing to the whimpering man. ¡°Then this asshole shows up and says it¡¯s not him.¡±


    Without saying anything, Skadi glanced to me, then stepped over to the man. I tensed as she held up a hand, producing a metal claw from the dark glove she wore. But the woman wasn¡¯t attacking anyone. She poked the man in the arm, watching me the whole time as she took a bit of his blood and touched it to her lips for a taste.


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± the woman murmured while still staring at me. ¡°It¡¯s not him. Let the man go.¡±


    There was a collection of mutters of disbelief and annoyance, but they did. The Ninety-Niners didn¡¯t pursue him either, as the man took off running.


    ¡°Right,¡± I started, ¡°now that we¡¯ve resolved that peacefully¨C¡±


    ¡°You, on the other hand¡­¡± Skadi interrupted, ¡°you clearly know more than you should. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if you know exactly where our missing man is right now. And even if you don¡¯t, there are others who would like a conversation with you.¡±


    Too late, I realized that the woman had been glancing somewhat past me at the last bit of that. I tried turning, but something grabbed me first. Something¡­ huge. A hand as big as I was. Suddenly, I was yanked around, given a brief glimpse of Mister Harmful¡¯s face as he snarled at me, before his giant hand abruptly slammed me face first into the wall of the building.


    Everything went dark.

 Interlude 5A - Pencil

    Four years ago


    ¡°You¡¯re not special, you know.¡°


    The words were addressed to a family of four (a mother and father with a teenaged child of each sex), who were sitting bound and gagged on a couch in an innocuous-looking living room. They were a very all-American suburbanite-looking family. The father¡¯s formerly thick, dark hair had passed the midpoint of balding and he was a bit saggy around the gut, though his bright blue eyes remained fiercely intelligent and sharp. Beside him, the man¡¯s wife retained much of the beauty of her not-so-recent youth, with long blonde hair that only needed a bit of help retaining its color and shine thanks to quite wonderful genes. Her own eyes were dark, and were currently filled with tears.


    Their teenage children, meanwhile, each quite resembled their opposite-sex parent. The girl had long dark hair like her father¡¯s had been some time before, with eyes whose brilliant blue matched his with the added youthful spirit. A spirit which, at the moment, seemed entirely broken by terror. And her slightly older brother was very clearly his mother¡¯s son, with hair that might have been much shorter than hers, but was no less blond. His eyes too were as dark as hers, his rage and helplessness seeming to mask a revulsion and terror that was indescribable.


    All four were staring at a man in an ill-fitting brown tweed suit who stood nearby. He wore a sackcloth bag over his head as a mask with holes cut in it for his eyes and mouth. A wig of long, luxurious blond hair had been attached to the bag-mask, making him look quite normal from the back.


    The source of the family¡¯s terror, beyond their imprisonment, was visible on the recliner chair beside their couch. An uncle who had been visiting, and who had thought to rebel against this intruder when he arrived, lay in that chair gutted from waist to throat, his insides spilling out as his dead horrified gaze seemed to stare accusingly at his family.


    Tears fell freely from the four as they fought not to look at the body. Both teenagers had been sick over themselves and the smell from it was competing with that of the body. They kept their attention rigidly locked on the man in front of them as he casually flipped a bloody knife between his fingers.


    ¡°Everyone wants to think they¡¯re special,¡± the man continued. ¡°Especially victims. And you, uh, you¡¯re pretty victimy. People like you, they want to think that something¡¯s happening for a reason, that they were chosen for some¡­ purpose.¡±


    He paused then, head cocked as though considering. ¡°Actually it¡¯s the survivors who really like to think that you¡¯re special. They need you to have done something to deserve this. Or at least something to draw the attention of whatever made it happen. They need a cause-and-effect, because otherwise it could happen to anyone. It could happen to them. And, well, that¡¯s just too terrifying a thought to consider.¡±


    He stepped over, stopping in front of the mother. Her eyes widened with terror while her husband made repeated grunting sounds, trying to draw their attacker¡¯s attention.


    Slowly, those eyes in the sack mask turned a bit to look toward the father. A low, raspy chuckle escaped the man as he spoke again. ¡°Like I said, everyone thinks they¡¯re special. They¡¯re not. You¡¯re not. Do you know why you¡¯re here? Do you know why I¡¯m here, why I chose you? It¡¯s because I flipped through the phonebook and landed on an address. This house is where my finger stopped. Random, huh?¡±


    He offered them a shrug, his gaze moving back to the mother. ¡°But here¡¯s the thing about randomness. It can go both ways. If I wanted to be truly random, couldn¡¯t I just turn around and walk out that door right now?¡± He gave another raspy chuckle as their eyes moved hopefully to the front entrance. ¡°Yeah, I could do that. I could leave. And then maybe I¡¯ll find you again in a year, or maybe I¡¯ll wait until the girl over there has a munchkin of her own and then take the kid.¡± His hand waved idly toward the fifteen-year-old girl, causing a muffled scream of outrage from her parents.


    ¡°I could do a hell of a lot of things,¡± the man continued with a casual, musing tone. ¡°But you know what sounds like a lot of fun? A game.¡°


    With that, he reached out quickly, grabbing the mother by the arm before yanking her up. His knife was pointed toward the father to keep him docile while the masked man wrestled the mother up and over, making her straddle her husband. Humming, the man used the knife to cut the mother¡¯s bonds, but kept it close to her side to prevent her from moving very much. He then took hold of one of her hands, extending it toward her husband. A cord was produced next, with a loop at either end. The man looped one end around her wrist, before looping the other end around the father¡¯s neck. It kept her hand close to his throat.


    That done, the masked man lifted her husband¡®s hand and repeated much the same to put his hand near her throat. Then he bound their opposite arms together to keep them locked that way. Husband and wife were now tied together, hands close to each other¡¯s necks.


    Next, the man produced a pair of small revolvers. There was a collection of muffled shouting, but he spoke over it. ¡°Now, now, let¡¯s all hear what the rules of the game are before we start interrupting. Don¡¯t be rude.¡± He made a show out of ejecting all of the shells from each revolver except for one in each. Then the man carefully placed one of the revolvers in each of the parents¡¯ hands that were tied close to their partner¡¯s neck before using a roll of duct tape to secure them in place, making sure they couldn¡¯t move the barrels anywhere else.


    ¡°Okay then,¡± the man announced, ¡°we¡¯re off to the races. The question we¡¯re asking here today is which kid do you love the most? See, at least one of these kids has a fighting chance of walking out of here, if not both. If Daddy shoots Mommy, then his beautiful baby girl gets to leave completely untouched. If Mommy shoots Daddy, then their bright-eyed, bushy-tailed boy gets to survive. Maybe he¡¯ll write a book about it. And, well, I suppose if both Mommy and Daddy shoot each other, the kids win the grand prize. Which is sort of a lifetime of nightmares and thousands in therapy bills. But hey, they¡¯ll be alive. Which is more than I could say for the contestants.¡±


    Turning, the man pointed to a camera that had been set up on a tripod in the corner and had been recording throughout his explanation. ¡°And if you can, try to spray some of the blood toward our friends in the future audience. That¡¯ll really give it a nice, visceral feel for the inevitable TV movie and true crime episode about this little hiccup in your lives. I mean, I¡¯d say regular movie because, let¡¯s face it, I¡¯m pretty damn good at this. But I just don¡¯t think you¡¯re that important.¡±


    He let them consider that for a brief moment before adding, ¡°And just to make it interesting, let¡¯s say that if neither of you have shot each other by the time that cuckoo clock over there goes off, I¡¯ll just kill one of the kids myself. We¡¯ll make it an Eenie Meenie situation.¡±


    A handful of seconds passed as the man looked toward the clock before turning back to them with a small smile. ¡°Would this be more or less nerve-racking if you could actually see that clock and had any idea how close it was to going off? I¡¯m genuinely curious. Always looking to make these little visits better, you know? I thought of having comment cards, but I just don¡¯t feel like you¡¯d be honest. Oh, whoops, you¡¯re probably trying to decide how much you love your kids right now, right? Well, I¡¯ll let you get back to it, for the next¡­ well¡­¡± He glanced toward the clock before offering them a shrug. ¡°However long you have.¡±


    Mother and father fought uselessly against their bonds for a few seconds, pleading through their gags for mercy while their eyes snapped back and forth between each other and the clock, whose face they couldn¡¯t see. In the background, the masked man made a soft ticking sounds with clear amusement, occasionally glancing toward the camera while making pantomime gestures as if to ask, ¡®Can you believe it¡¯s taking them this long?¡¯


    The mother and father looked toward their bound and gagged children, a keening sound of desperation escaping the mother before she snapped her eyes back to her husband. A brief moment of silent communication passed between them and both slumped a little as they came to a mutual decision.


    ¡°Ohhh, ladies and gentlemen and tied up offspring currently sitting on the couch,¡± the man started, ¡° I believe we have a¡ª¡°


    Two terrifyingly loud bangs filled the room as mother and father shot one another in the head, spraying blood and brain matter in every direction. The echoes of the shots were followed by barely muffled screams from both teenagers. Wails and sobs flooded from the pair to form a distinct soundtrack of horror against the grisly sight. Their violent, wretched grief, painfully visible on the camera for a moment, was blocked then as the masked man knelt in front of it.


    ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s it for today. But don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll see each other again. Maybe some of you sooner than you think.¡± With a wave of one hand, he used the other to reach out and turn off the camera.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± The new voice filled the room as soon as the camera was off, as the teenage boy lunged to his feet, his ¡®bonds¡¯ falling as he ripped the gag from his mouth. ¡°Holy shit! That was amazing! That was so fucking cool! Wasn¡¯t it, Manda?¡±


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    He turned a bit, seeing his sister on the couch, still staring at their parents¡¯ bodies. ¡°Amanda?¡±


    With a loud, gleeful squeal, the fifteen-year-old girl spat the gag in her mouth out and sprang just as energetically to her feet, fake bonds falling to the floor while she threw her arms around her sixteen-year-old brother. ¡°Nick, Nick, that was so great! Did you see the look on their faces before they did it?! Oh, that was incredible. That was the most beautiful thing ever! That was amazing!¡±


    She continued to hug her brother tightly for a few seconds before turning to kick her mother¡¯s lifeless leg. ¡°Who doesn¡¯t get a new phone now, bitch?!¡±


    Nick tugged her back by the shoulder, barely sparing their parents a glance. ¡°Come on, Manders, our little scene here looks pretty good, and the video¡¯ll help. But we need to call the cops soon or it¡¯ll look suspicious.¡±


    The girl wound herself up to spit on their parents before Nick covered her mouth. ¡°It¡¯d look pretty weird to find your saliva on their bodies. Just saying.¡±


    The two turned away from their parents, walking past their dead uncle without a glance or care before stopping in front of the masked man, who had stood there watching the whole time.


    ¡°Good job,¡± Nick congratulated, ¡°you sounded perfect.¡±


    Reaching up, the man pulled off his mask, revealing a fairly normal looking pale man with red hair. ¡°Shucks, all I did was follow your script. That was pretty fucked up, man, I ain¡¯t gonna lie.¡±


    Nick shrugged. ¡°It¡¯ll convince the investigators that our parents¡¯ deaths were absolutely not our fault. So the inheritance and life insurance should pay right out. Hell, we¡¯ll probably get donations from concerned citizens who just want to help us get past the grief.¡± He chuckled then, before reaching into his pocket to pull out a bundle of wrapped hundred dollar bills, which he handed over to the man. ¡°Five thousand, just as promised. The remaining forty-five will be after we get paid. You know how it is.¡±


    Amanda was already standing over next to a nearby door. She¡¯d opened it to reveal stairs leading down. ¡°Come on, you¡¯ve got to go out through the cellar so the neighbors don¡¯t tell the cops which way you went. There¡¯s a trap door near the bushes at the edge of the fence.¡±


    Nick nodded, heading that way first. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll show you how to get past the junk.¡± He patted his sister on the head before clomping down the stairs, with the other man descending after him.


    Reaching the bottom, the man paused at the crinkling sound as he stepped off the last stair and looked down. ¡°Hey, why is there plastic on the¡ª¡±


    That was as far as the man got before Amanda, using the greater heights of standing on the stair above him, suddenly leapt on the man with a banshee shriek and drove a knife into the side of his throat. He screamed, the sound turning into a gurgling mess as he collapsed to the floor with Amanda on his back, cackling madly. The man choked and died there on the plastic wrap as the girl whispered sweet nothings in his ear.


    Finally, he was dead, and Amanda rose to reveal the plastic apron she had put on to protect her own clothes from his blood. ¡°See?¡± she directed toward her brother, ¡°Told you I could do it.¡±


    Nick gave his sister a high-five before they rolled the body up in the plastic. He took the time to pick up the wig-covered mask that the man had dropped, looking at it for a moment before tucking the thing away. Together, they dragged the body in the plastic across the entire basement, past mounds of boxes and random junk until they reached the far corner, where a dresser stood. Brother and sister moved the dresser, revealing a hole that had already been prepared. In that hole was an old freezer. The two of them dumped the body into the freezer, added the mask and Amanda¡¯s apron and knife before closing the lid, then dragged the dresser back over to cover the hole. Working quickly, they took a minute to stack random junk all around the dresser, making it look like no one had gone over there in quite some time. Once a bike with one wheel was shifted in front of the pile, the two of them ran back up the basement stairs to re-join their murdered family members.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Nick asked his sister. Getting a quick nod from her, he reached out to pick up the phone, dialing 911. It rang twice before being answered, and he immediately began to sob about how they needed help, while Amanda provided a chorus of tears and pleading in the background.


    Soon, the sound of sirens filled the air, while brother and sister looked to one another. ¡°Nick,¡± Amanda murmured with delight, ¡°that was so amazing! We have to do that again.¡±


    The boy chuckled. ¡°Well, it¡¯d be pretty hard to do that again. That was kind of a one-time thing. But don¡¯t worry. We will definitely find ways to entertain ourselves.¡±


    With a grin, Amanda started to respond. Then she paused, head tilting as she stared past him. ¡°Hey, Nick¡­


    ¡°What¡¯re those glowing orb things?¡±


    ********


    Present Day


    ¡°So that¡¯s how my sister and I got our powers and got rid of our parents at the same time.¡±


    Nick, or Pencil as he was now known by the world at large, stood in the middle of the convenience store, surrounded by kneeling, sobbing figures. The now twenty-year-old wore the same sackcloth mask with blonde wig that he¡¯d had their parents¡¯ killer wear four years earlier, having retrieved it from the freezer before he and Amanda disposed of the body.


    Smiling under the mask, Nick gestured to the kneeling people. ¡°Thanks for letting me get all that off my chest. I don¡¯t know why, but I really felt the need to talk about it with somebody lately. And it¡¯s not really the kind of story you tell the therapist. I mean yeah, sis and I are super-motivational speakers. You should see the way we get worked up in all the schools about overcoming adversity and shit. It¡¯s just¡­ I don¡¯t think they¡¯d accept this particular nugget. But let¡¯s be honest, you guys aren¡¯t gonna tell anybody. You¡¯ll be dead.¡±


    His words brought a renewed round of sobbing from the group of employees and customers, before one tried to lunge to his feet in a desperate bid to either escape or attack.


    Unfortunately, the man barely stood before Nick casually buried a knife in his stomach. The man choked, looking down at all the blood with a whimper.


    ¡°There there,¡± Nick murmured. He withdrew the knife from the man¡¯s stomach, turned it around, and placed it in his hand. The man was slumping against him, whining as he closed his fingers around the knife.


    ¡°You wanna try it?¡± Nick offered. ¡°I know, I know. You¡¯ve heard all about how nothing can kill me. But go ahead, give it a try. Maybe you¡¯ll get lucky.¡±


    There was a brief pause, before the man rammed the knife into Nick¡¯s stomach. Nothing happened. The knife passed in and out of his body with no apparent effect. No blood was drawn, and no wound was left behind.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s unlucky,¡± Nick murmured. ¡°Why don¡¯t we try again?¡± With that, he waved his hand, and the wound in the stomach of the man he had stabbed was abruptly healed. There was no damage whatsoever, as the guy gasped in surprise while straightening up.


    Covering his mouth in mock surprise, Nick then explained, ¡°Yeah, see, I¡¯m not actually completely invulnerable. The truth is, everything I do to someone else, I become completely immune to. But it only works three times for every time I do it to someone else. And it¡¯s super specific. Like, a stab in the arm won¡¯t protect me from a stab in the head. Or if I set someone on fire, the only parts of me that are protected from burning are the parts of them that burned. So I tend to be pretty thorough.¡±


    With a sudden curse, the other man tried to cut Nick¡¯s throat. Again, nothing happened.


    Nick, with a roll of his eyes, drove a knee into the man¡¯s groin, dropping him to the ground. ¡°Dude, do you have any idea how often I¡¯ve stabbed people in the throat? Yeah, I¡¯m only protected three times per. But I¡¯ve stacked like¡­ pffft, hundreds by this point. It¡¯s pretty ridiculous.¡±


    Stepping over the man, he continued, addressing both him and the rest of the kneeling, crying people. ¡°You¡¯re wondering how I healed you, right? That¡¯s the kicker. See, every time I do something to someone else, I get three slots of immunity from that thing. But I can spend one of those slots to heal anybody else from that specific thing. Yeah,¡± he laughed, ¡°Probably one of the best healers in the country is a goddamn Abyssal-worshiping serial killer. Isn¡¯t that just profoundly fucked up?¡±


    Getting no real response from the terrified group, he sighed. ¡°You people are no fun. Oh well, let¡¯s¡ª¡±


    He was interrupted by the chime of the front door of the shop, as a uniformed police officer burst in with his gun raised. ¡°Get your hands up! Get them up!¡±


    Rather than comply, Nick simply turned to watch. Just as the police officer started to shout again, Amanda casually stepped out from behind a nearby shelf. Cup, as she was now known by their naming rules of using completely mundane objects for their ¡®supervillain¡¯ titles, wore a white bodysuit with a matching white cloak and hood. Her white mask was cloth, covering the lower half of her face. Pure white, the color of innocence. She thought it was funny.


    Stepping by the startled cop, she spoke up casually. ¡°If a balloon floats up in the air, will it float down under water?¡±


    The cop turned his pistol to her with a gasp. Then he stopped, his mouth moving as he repeated the question under his breath. A frown furrowed his brow and he repeated it again louder. His shoulders slumped, as the gun lowered.


    This was Amanda/Cup¡¯s power. She could ask any nonsensical question, and a person¡¯s entire focus and attention would be completely taken up with trying to answer it. They would become obsessed with the question for a short time, depending on just how absurd it was. The more ridiculous, the longer they would be distracted.


    Cup plucked the gun from the cop¡¯s hand, checked it, then shot the man in the face. He collapsed while everyone in the store screamed.


    With a sigh, Pencil regarded his sister. ¡°Really? Now we have to hurry, and I can¡¯t enjoy myself.¡±


    Shrugging, Cup replied, ¡°The rest of the Scions are waiting for us anyway, dude. It¡¯s time to pray to Typhon.¡± It was a thing neither of them actually believed in, actually ¡®praying¡¯ to some poor fucked up loser who ended up turning into a monster. But it freaked people out, and they thought that was hilarious. Plus, most of the other Scions actually went for that stuff, so the siblings played it up.


    Checking his watch, Nick blinked. ¡°Huh. Guess you¡¯re right. Time really flies, huh? Oh well.¡± He turned back to the gathered group with a bright smile. ¡°So¡­¡± he started while reaching out to pick up a jar with warning labels plastered all over it out of a nearby bag.


    ¡°Which one of you wants to add to my acid immunity?¡±

 Interlude 5B - Lost Memories

    Five Years Ago


    ¡°Remember, Miss Evans, thank your host and be gracious,¡± Robert Parson, chauffeur for the Evans family, reminded his charge while opening the back door of the dark sedan.


    Eleven-year old Cassidy, dark hair cut into a short pixie style, didn¡¯t so much step out of the backseat as lunge out of it¡­ hands first. Landing on those hands, she gave a loud squeal while almost tipping over entirely the other way until Robert, well-accustomed to these shenanigans, casually caught her legs with one arm.


    She stood on her hands like that, upside down with her legs against the driver¡¯s ready-arm. ¡°Good catch, Bobby!¡± the girl chirped with a bright smile, turning her head to peer up at him.


    ¡°Honestly, Miss Evans,¡± the dark-skinned, well groomed man murmured. He was tall enough to be a power forward for the NBA, standing six feet, eight inches. Yet his manner with her was always gentle, and he was as well-dressed and spoken as anyone Cassidy had met among her parents¡¯ hoity toity rich friends. ¡°Must we cause a scene? This is hardly conduct becoming of a woman of your station and inheritance.¡±


    With a grunt, Cassidy flipped herself back over the other way, landing only slightly awkwardly on her knees before pushing up to her feet once more. Her bright smile never wavered. ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t wear a skirt, Bobby. Well¡­ that and the last time I did someone asked if I was a crossdresser.¡± Saying those words made the girl frown a little, looking away before she focused once more, shrugging. ¡°Besides, I had to test your reflexes, you know. Gotta know if you can protect me.¡± She said it in an offhand way, the dismissive tone of youth who believe themselves invincible and don¡¯t actually understand that while they may be floating on the surface of a very calm ocean, danger still lurked deep beneath those gentle waves. Despite their wealth and prominence, she¡¯d never really believed there was anything for her family to be protected from.


    Robert shook his head, reaching out to put one hand on the girl¡¯s short hair. ¡°Miss Evans,¡± he began in a low voice that was not quite a whisper. ¡°Such tests are unnecessary. You know that you are safe with me.¡± There was a calm, genuine affection in his words and gaze. Robert cared for the Evans¡¯ youngest child as though she was his own. There was a reason, after all, that she was the only living person in the known world who was allowed to call him Bobby.


    Her head bobbed quickly. ¡°Yup!¡± With a wink, she turned and reached back into the car to pull out a gift wrapped in bright silver and violet paper. It was¡­ a bit of a mess, given her insistence on wrapping the present herself. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it from here. Thanks for the ride!¡±


    With that, Cassidy bounded off across the long driveway. The place wasn¡¯t nearly as big as her own house, but it was still pretty impressive. The driveway was a half-circle with an entrance and exit at two separate gates, while a tall fountain surrounded by flowers took up the middle. The house itself was about half the size of the one owned by her family, which still put it well above average. Her friend Anthony lived here, and it was his eleventh birthday.


    Reaching the front door, Cassidy went to ring the bell, only to notice that the door was open a crack. That was a little weird, but maybe they were just still bringing stuff in and out for the party. With a shrug, she pushed it open and stepped through, letting the door close behind her.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Cassidy called, pausing a bit. Huh. Usually one of the maids would have come by now. Maybe they were really busy. And she was actually pretty early. She¡¯d wanted to have a chance to talk to Anthony so they could come up with a plan to escape the party later and play some games in his rooms. It wasn¡¯t like the party guests would miss the pair, considering most of them would be his parents¡¯ friends, not his. Anthony didn¡¯t actually have many friends. Just her, mostly. He was homeschooled by tutors, and the two of them had been all-but inseparable every day since her father had brought Cassidy along to meet his business associate¡¯s son a couple years earlier.


    The party was supposed to be out back, so she started that way. Someone would know what was going on, and where she should put her gift.


    It took a minute for the girl to make her way through the enormous house. Even as often as she¡¯d been over, it was still easy to get lost in the maze of rooms and corridors to reach the correct sliding door leading onto the back patio. It was attached to the (oddly empty and dark) dining room, and Cassidy had to set the present down on the nearby table to push the sliding glass door open. As soon as she did so, the girl heard voices. Oh, good! People were out here. She had started to worry.


    Turning to pick up the present with both arms, she started to head through the opening, before looking up. As she did so, the girl abruptly froze half-in and half-out of the house. The haphazardly-wrapped gift fell to the ground, forgotten in an instant at the sight in front of her.


    Bodies. Three of them lay sprawled out along the patio in various positions, clearly left where they had fallen. Blood¡­ so much blood¡­ coated the ground around and between them, a sticky pool of it. Two of them were faced away from the door, but one, the body of Anthony¡¯s family¡¯s longtime butler, was staring sightlessly straight at Cassidy. His mouth was open with mute horror, frozen in death that way as his gaze seemed to stare directly through the girl.


    Two more bodies lay further on past the first three, draped over lawn chairs. Beyond them was the pool, where yet another body floated. And beside it stood two men with guns. Before them lay a body that some barely cognizant part of Cassidy¡¯s brain vaguely registered as Anthony¡¯s mother. Dead. Dead, just like the others. All of them were dead.


    Except Anthony. The boy himself was sobbing over his mother¡¯s body, clinging to her while he begged¡­ for something. For her to come back, for them to stop shooting everyone, for his own life. His words were a jumble of terror and grief, a desperate wailing almost animal-like.


    As Cassidy stood there, frozen in shock, one of the men offered the boy a shrug. ¡°Sorry, kid,¡± he muttered in a dispassionate voice. ¡°Nothing personal, this ain¡¯t about you.¡±


    With that, he raised the gun, pulling the trigger. The sound of the gunshot, muffled though it was, still echoed across the porch. It was met, in turn, by the horrified scream of an eleven-year-old girl who had just seen her best friend murdered right in front of her, as his body collapsed.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± the second man blurted, spinning that way, ¡°where the fuck did that one co¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the kid!¡± The first guy waved the gun with the hand, bellowing, ¡°Grab her, fucking grab her!¡±


    With a choked sob, Cassidy turned to flee. But her foot caught on the present she had dropped, and she fell to the floor in the dining room. The next thing she knew, a hand was yanking her up by the hair and arm. As she shrieked and struggled, the man hauled her around back to the porch. ¡°Fucking bitch!¡± His hand lashed out to smack her across the face, and she hit the ground once more with a cry. He spat at her, snarling, ¡°Your daddy thinks he can run us out of town? Let¡¯s see how tough he thinks he is when he gets his little girl¡¯s finger in the ma¨C¡±


    A new gunshot filled the air, echoing through the house. The man who had been ranting pitched forward, hitting the ground beside the still-screaming Cassidy. Nearby, the other man had been on his way over, only to jerk in surprise as his partner was shot. He had his own gun about halfway up before Robert came through the doorway, pistol raised to shoot him through the center of his forehead. He pitched over backward, while Robert smoothly leaned down to haul the sobbing girl up with one arm. ¡°Hands over your ears,¡± he ordered. ¡°Hands!¡±


    She obeyed, throwing her hands over her ears and dropping her face against his shoulder while her entire body shook with unrestrained tears. Holding her easily with one arm, Robert went back through the house. As he did so, more intruders appeared. A man popped into the doorway ahead of them with a raised submachine gun, only to be shot three times before he could move. His slumping body was kicked aside as Robert stepped through to the next room, calmly firing three more times, twice at a man who appeared in a doorway to the right, and once at yet another one who came from the stairs above and to the left.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Taking three quick steps toward the doorway where the man there had fallen, Robert lashed out with his foot, catching the door with his foot. It slammed on the wrist of another man who was just coming through, making him drop his gun. Robert fired once through the door, aimed low to catch the man right in the knee. He collapsed, his head appearing in time to receive a second bullet that put his body on the ground beside the other man¡¯s.


    Ducking back out of the way as a handful of shots came from that same hallway that the two men had tried to come through, Robert waited for a two count, then moved across the half-open doorway, pivoting to put his back to the opening in order to shield Cassidy with his body. Instantly, several more shots rang out. One clipped the man¡¯s arm, drawing a grunt from him before he made it to the opposite side. Pointing the pistol through the doorway, he fired twice without looking, and was rewarded with a yelp and the sound of a man falling.


    The sound of running footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of yet another attacker. This one lunged into view, submachine gun raised as he dove off the stairs to reach the landing. He was shot through the head in mid-dive, his body crashing through a display of glass figurines.


    Turning quickly, Robert strode onward through the room. As the door to his right was kicked open, he lashed out to slam his pistol into the face of the man that came through, hitting him viciously three times in rapid succession even as the man was falling. The one who came through just behind him was shot through the knee, just Robert¡¯s gun clicked on empty. He slumped down with a scream of pain, while Robert pivoted to hurl his pistol into the face of another man who had come running in from the direction of the back patio where they had just been. In the same motion as his own weapon left his hand, the driver and bodyguard stripped the pistol from the hand of the attacker he had just shot through the knee while the man was trying to aim up at him. He turned it, shooting the kneeling man through the side of the head before taking a quick, almost contemptuously casual shot at the man on the other side of the room who was still recovering from having a pistol thrown at him. The shot took him between the eyes, and he dropped.


    With Cassidy still draped against his shoulder, supported by one arm, Robert made his way through the rest of the house. More men came, a small army having been sent into this mansion to kill everyone present and, apparently, abduct his eleven-year-old charge. But a small army wasn¡¯t enough, as the man put down everyone who dared show themselves, shooting his way out of the building and back to the front driveway. Through it all, he was shot twice more in equally non-vital places. One grazed his right leg and another went through his left side. None did more than slightly slow the man.


    His own last shot (from his third acquired pistol) took down a man with a shotgun who had been running toward the front door from a van that had pulled up behind their car. Without breaking stride, Robert tossed the pistol away, hooking his foot under the shotgun to kick it up into his grip. One-handed, he aimed the shotgun at the van, blowing away the driver just as he tried to scramble out. He fired the second shot as the side door of the van began to slide open, taking the man who tried to lunge free in the face.


    Shotgun emptied, Robert tossed it aside and kept moving. The back door of the sedan was already open, so he all but threw Cassidy into it. She landed hard on the seat, eyes opening just in time to shriek in terror as she looked past him.


    Two more shots hit the man in the back before he could react. Pivoting, he took a third shot in the stomach, making that six bullets the man had taken in only a few minutes. He collapsed to the ground, while an older man with silver-white hair came into view, pistol still in hand.


    ¡°Well now,¡± the elderly figure muttered, ¡°my son-in-law does hire good help, I¡¯ll give him that.¡± Shaking his head, he leaned down to look into the car at Cassidy, who was frozen in terror, mouth simply repeating ¡®Bobby, Bobby, Bobby¡¯ in silent desperation, her mind all-but broken.


    ¡°Hiya, kid,¡± the man announced. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. You can get to know your old Grandpa Jacopo.¡±


    He started to reach in toward the girl, just as a gleaming silver blade was suddenly driven through his back to erupt through the front of his chest. The man choked, looking down sharply as the end of the blade formed two solid pieces to hold itself in him while being pulled back. The old man was hauled away from the car and dumped to the ground.


    And Cassidy saw her father. Her father¡­ dressed up like Silversmith, sans helmet. Her daddy, standing there with a bloody mercury-like blade extending from his arm. Her father, glaring at the man on the ground. His voice shook with rage that felt as though it could bring down the nearby house. ¡°You¡­ son of a bitch!¡±


    The man on the ground laughed, choking on his own blood. ¡°Really think you could kick me out of town forever, son-in-law? This is my town! She¡¯s my daughter! It¡¯s my organization! You¡¯re a fucking glorified accountant! I built all of this, I own it! It¡¯s mine!¡±


    In response, Cassidy¡¯s father simply shook his head. His voice was dark. ¡°Not anymore.¡± With that, his hand lashed out, forming a new blade that took the old man¡¯s head off at the neck, sending it bouncing along the driveway to the nearby flower garden.


    The next thing Cassidy knew, she was in her father¡¯s arms, sobbing and babbling about dead people, about Bobby, about him being Silversmith. It was all a jumble, the terror and horrific realization of everything she had seen falling together to form one terrible memory.


    ¡°Sorry¡­ Mr. Evans,¡± Robert managed, having pulled his thoroughly bleeding form to a sitting position. ¡°Tried to get her out.¡±


    ¡°You did,¡± Sterling assured the man. ¡°You did everything. We owe you everything. Just sit still. The ambulance is coming. It¡¯s coming. You¡¯re going to be okay, I promise. I swear, we¡¯ll take care of you for the rest of your life. You saved my baby girl. Anything you ever need is yours. Anything.


    ¡°We¡¯ll never forget this.¡±


    *******


    ¡°And she won¡¯t remember any of it? You¡¯re certain?¡±


    Elena Evans, standing beside her husband, was addressing the man in front of them. He was a pale figure with dark-blond hair wearing a neatly pressed white suit. His eyes were dark green.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the man replied simply, in a distinct British accent. ¡°I do know what I¡¯m doing, Mrs. Evans. The girl will remember none of what happened that day. She will remember the boy as barely an acquaintance, who moved away before perishing in a car accident on the other side of the country. His being homeschooled is a bonus, in that regard.¡±


    ¡°She barely speaks,¡± Elena murmured, the worry clear in her voice. ¡°She hasn¡¯t eaten in¡­ in days. This¡­ this thing, it wasn¡¯t¡­ she can¡¯t find out like this. It¡¯s destroyed her. She isn¡¯t¡­ she isn¡¯t talking to us. She just keeps whispering about people dying, about¡­ about her friend. She is not¡­ Cassidy anymore.¡±


    ¡°As I said,¡± the man repeated, ¡°she will not remember any of it. What about your man on the scene?¡±


    Sterling grimaced. ¡°Robert survived, thankfully. But the doctors don¡¯t think he¡¯ll walk again. Anything he does do will take years of physical therapy and surgeries.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll have it,¡± Elena announced firmly. ¡°After what he did, he will have everything he needs for as long as he lives. Nothing is out of the question. Find a healer willing to work with him, use one of our Braintrust contacts, whatever it takes. That man saved our daughter. He did his job above and beyond the call of duty. We will not forget that.¡±


    ¡°A sound policy,¡± their guest agreed. ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have my own job to do.¡± Nodding to them both, he stepped through the nearby doorway to Cassidy¡¯s room.


    The girl herself sat on a chair, staring at the mirror. She didn¡¯t look up when he entered, nor did she speak.


    ¡°Hi,¡± the man greeted her. ¡°My name is Jackson. Kent Jackson. I have a son about your age, back over in London. His name is Tomas. What¡¯s yours?¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°Well,¡± Kent murmured, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear about what happened to your friend and his family. Luckily, you won¡¯t have to think about that for much longer.¡± With that, he stepped over, raising his hand toward her. But just as his fingers brushed her hair, the girl shrieked. She smacked hand away, screaming out loud as she scrambled to her feet, lashing out to kick him in the leg.


    ¡°Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!!!¡± she screamed out loud.


    Grimacing, Kent grabbed the girl by the arms. As she shrieked and fought, he hauled her off the floor, throwing the girl roughly down on her bed even as one of her hands dragged deep fingernail marks down his arm. ¡°Stop! Stop it!¡± he blurted, head shaking while she scrambled, kicking and hissing like a wild cat.


    ¡°Damn it, stop! I¡¯m helping you, daft child!¡± Kent shook the girl, just as he was yanked off of her by Sterling, who put his fist in the man¡¯s stomach to double him over. He staggered, choking out words about needing to do his job.


    ¡°Help her.¡± Elena¡¯s voice was firm, as she sat on the bed with her daughter. She reached out, but Cassidy drew back, pulling herself into a tight, whimpering ball. ¡°Help her, not terrify her more.¡±


    Straightening, Kent adjusted his suit with a cough. ¡°The girl is frightened because of the very event I¡¯m working to take away. Give me a moment with her, and it will no longer be a problem.¡± He gave both of her parents a look, then exhaled while stepping over.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s try this again, shall we?¡±

 Alliances 6-01

    Something flicked hard against my helmet, snapping me awake with a gasp. I tried to sit up to take stock, but a hand was holding me down. A very big hand.


    My eyes opened, only to see the smiling face of Uncle Friendly staring down at me. He had enlarged his hand to take up most of my torso, easily holding me in place. ¡°There we are,¡± the man announced. ¡°You¡¯re awake now.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡± The snarled word came from the back of his head, where Mister Harmful¡¯s face was. ¡°If he¡¯s awake, let¡¯s get on to the fun part. We owe this little bastard.¡±


    Oh¡­ okay, this was bad. This was really bad. I couldn¡¯t even tell where I was, aside from the fact that it was some room somewhere. I¡¯d been knocked out long enough that we were no longer out on the street. We could have been anywhere. I¡­ what was I supposed to do now?


    Besides be afraid, because I was acing that part.


    I started to shift a bit, but Uncle Friendly tightened his grip painfully, drawing a gasp from me. His voice was still polite and calm. ¡°I see one bit of paint and I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll just have to snap every rib you have. Then I¡¯ll take those ribs and start jamming them through random bits of your body. And we really don¡¯t want that, do we?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t?¡± his other self retorted. ¡°I thought that was Plan A.¡±


    Uncle Friendly gave a soft chuckle. ¡°Forgive my eager counterpart. He finds it difficult to forgive and forget. I¡¯m afraid you very much annoyed him, and he¡¯s quite looking forward to hurting you. Let¡¯s try not to let it come to that. You and I, we can work this out peacefully, I believe.¡±


    For a moment, I was silent, mind swimming as I thought to think of anything. That, and I needed a few seconds to collect myself so my voice would do more than whimper. Finally, all I could do was manage a weak, ¡°So, is talking allowed?¡±


    That smile of his brightened. ¡°Of course it is! We can talk about a lot of things. But there¡¯s one thing I¡¯d rather focus on first. I think you know.¡±


    Despite everything, a dozen potential smartass retorts popped into my head. But honestly, I¡­ I was afraid. Yeah, maybe it was stupid and a real hero would¡¯ve been cool and collected. But me? I was just scared, even if I didn¡¯t want to show it. Could I put blue paint on myself to knock the man away from me? Probably. But could I do it fast enough that he couldn¡¯t do a hell of a lot of damage to me first? I didn¡¯t know. And this really wasn¡¯t the best time to test it. I wasn¡¯t even sure I could activate orange paint quickly enough to protect me from his retaliation. Except maybe I could put it on my back. If I put it on my back, I could hide it from him and¡ª


    ¡°Now, now.¡± Friendly wagged a finger in front of my face. ¡°You¡¯re thinking. This isn¡¯t something you need to think about. You know exactly what we need from you, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Face hidden behind my helmet and mask, I hesitated for just a second before replying, ¡°You think I can tell you where Ashton Austin is.¡±


    ¡°You see?¡± Friendly gave a cheerful laugh. ¡°We¡¯re doing so well. You¡¯re great at this. Except for one thing. We know you can tell us where the guy is. And the inventor girl. Both of them. You can tell us where they are, and we¡¯ll all be civilized about this.¡±


    They wanted Wren too? That made me focus more than anything else had. Slowly, I nodded. ¡°Yeah. I guess. There¡¯s just one problem. See, you keep insinuating about all the bad things you¡¯re going to do to me if I don¡¯t do what you want. Which could be a great motivator, don¡¯t get me wrong. But like you said, there¡¯s a little girl involved. Two, actually. And if I tell you what I know, I¡¯ll be sentencing one to death, and the other to whatever painful things you already have in mind for me. If you think I¡¯d be okay with that, that I¡¯d help kill one girl and condemn another to being your slave so you can torture her into building you weapons to kill even more people¡­ then you¡¯re even dumber than that two-headed freak show act makes you look.¡±


    A sudden pain filled my chest, as the man clamped down. It only lasted for a second, before he released me to spin his torso around so I was facing Mister Harmful. There was a sadistic grin on the second man¡¯s face, and he raised his free hand while clamping down once more with the other. ¡°Oh, I am so glad you said that. You¡¯re mine now, you little cocksucker. I¡¯ll show you just what a mistake you made.¡±


    This was it. I had to get out of here right now, while I still had the¡ª


    ¡°Stop.¡± The simple, yet commanding voice came from someone beyond Janus. Harmful sighed, making a face at me, while Friendly spoke. ¡°At ease, Cav. We¡¯re just getting a few answers. As long as the boy cooperates, he won¡¯t suffer any permanent damage. But I¡¯m afraid he needs to be convinced of the seriousness of the situation and our¡­ enthusiasm.¡±


    The voice, which I now recognized as female, spoke again. ¡°Your boss wants to see him now. You know, upright and walking? As opposed to whatever condition he¡¯d be in when you two finished up.¡±


    Keeping their hand on my chest warningly, the conjoined pair slowly moved out of the way so I could see who they were speaking to. It was a rather voluptuous woman a couple inches under six feet. She wore a dark red bodysuit with black swirly lines randomly patterned across it, with black gloves and boots. Her face was covered by a large, oversized set of red goggles with some kind of breathing apparatus attached over her mouth and nose, like a gas mask.


    The woman saw me looking and chuckled briefly. ¡°Good morning, little boy. Like what you see?¡±


    With that, she was suddenly kneeling in front of me. Along with about five other versions of herself all lined up behind her all the way back to where she had started. A couple seconds later, all of them aside from the one kneeling in front of me disappeared, starting with the one furthest back and quickly making its way all the way up to her as they each in turn popped out of existence.


    I knew her. Or of her. This was Cavalcade. Her power was essentially a mixture of superspeed and duplication. Basically, she moved really fast in any direction by creating a duplicate of herself, then that version created another duplicate, and so on. She did this so quickly that it seemed to be super speed. Each duplicate only lasted a couple seconds before disappearing, so when she was running around, you¡¯d see a trail of about twenty or thirty versions of her. I¡¯d seen videos of her using it to surround a target and attack them from all sides at once. It was¡­ pretty cool.


    And she also wasn¡¯t a member of the Easy Eights. At least, not the last I¡¯d heard. Cavalcade was a Sell-Touched, a mercenary, sometimes working for the bad guys, sometimes for the good guys. She went where the money was, like Lastword and Two-Step.


    Apparently the Easy Eights were currently paying her, because here she was, patting my arm reassuringly. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry. I¡¯ll take you away from the big bad freakshow. But first¡­¡± She held up something I knew quite well. It was a pair of the stay-down cuffs. Which I really shouldn¡¯t have been surprised that they had access to, yet made me wince inwardly nonetheless.


    She chuckled softly. ¡°Yeah, he knows what they are. Come, turn over, let¡¯s get you ready to see the lady throwing buckets of cash at me.¡±


    The woman who was paying her. Deicide. She wanted to take me to see Deicide. Oh, this was bad. This was really bad. What was I supposed to do? I had to get out of here, but how? I still didn¡¯t know where I was, aside from the fact that I could now see we were in a cement room that was probably intended to be a holding cell of some kind. That¡¯s what they were using it for, anyway. A large metal door was over in the direction she had come from. But how could I get past Janus and Cavalcade? And even if I did manage that, I had no idea where that door led. Nor did I know how many threats might lay beyond it. I could maybe take them by surprise and get out to the hall, but then what? There could be anyone there. And this woman had super speed, of a sort. What in the living hell was I supposed to do now?


    My musings were interrupted by a growl from Harmful. ¡°She told you to do something, you little brat. Don¡¯t make me¡ª¡±


    The woman held up a hand to stop him. ¡°It¡¯s okay, he¡¯s just making sure there¡¯s not an easy way to escape.¡± Her attention turned back to me then, tone curious. ¡°So, are you satisfied or do we have to do this the hard way?¡± She didn¡¯t sound threatening at all, more genuinely interested in what I was going to do. And totally casual, of course. It¡¯s not like she really saw me as a threat given the situation.


    It almost would¡¯ve been worth it to punch her, just to see how she reacted. But on the other hand, I really didn¡¯t want to be left here with Janus. Plus, even with the cuffs on, if I got out of here, I could see what lay beyond this cell. There could be an opening.


    So, with an inward sigh, I turned over to present my wrists behind my back. Boy, did this ever suck. I was definitely not going to talk about this in any potential memoirs.


    Did people still write memoirs?


    The cuffs secured my hands behind my back, and the woman stood up with a gesture. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go. You know how these things work, so stay right with me. You try to run off and you¡¯ll regret it, I promise. And not just because of the cuffs.¡±


    Friendly gave me a little wave, promising that we¡¯d see each other soon. Then the woman led me out of the door. Beyond lay a slightly larger room that looked pretty similar. There were a couple armed thugs there, sitting at a table playing cards. They looked up as we came in, one of them coming to some form of attention. The other leaned back to get a better look at Cavalcade¡¯s backside as we passed through. She ignored them entirely, taking me to the opposite door. There, we were met by a guy who at first glance looked like any other gangbanger. Really, he had baggy jeans with a chain hanging from them, a couple layers of shirts, and a leather jacket, all with nasty sayings on them. The only thing that gave him away as being Touched was the green helmet he wore. It was a full head and face covering thing, made of some kind of metal with clasps on either side. The front of the helmet was an engraved face of a laughing man, and the eyes were covered by sunglasses.


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    This, I knew, was Sockinit. Yeah. Unlike my escort, he was one of the official Easy Eight Touched, one of their eight lieutenants, like Skadi and Janus. His power allowed him to dampen or cancel any number of things. He could mute voices or other sounds, stop chemical reactions from occurring, disable electricity, even slow or stop someone¡¯s powers from functioning properly for awhile if he focused long enough on them.


    ¡°Yo, Cav,¡± Sockinit drawled as we approached the door, ¡°I was thinking¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± the woman interrupted. ¡°Because every time you think, you say something stupid that makes me kick your ass, and it turns into a whole thing.¡±


    She brushed past him, pulling me with her while the man was still reacting to her words. We exited into what was obviously a warehouse. There were people moving crates around, a forklift nearby being loaded up, and a supervisor with a tablet, directing everyone about where to go. I could see the boxes were labeled with both serial numbers and the names of the eight lieutenants in the gang, including the guy we had just passed.


    My escort led me through the maze of shelves and crates. I glanced up as subtly as possible a couple times, looking for a skylight or something. But it was just a blank metal ceiling. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t be that easy. What was I thinking?


    I was thinking that I desperately needed to get out of here, before the situation got even worse than it already had. Unfortunately, I seriously had no idea how to do that. It wasn¡¯t like I could do anything useful like teleport.


    Unless the pink paint did that. But I wasn¡¯t going to count myself as that lucky. Plus it hadn¡¯t done anything like that before, so why would it start now?


    Cavalcade led me to a back office. A couple guards there looked up as we approached. These were more alert than the other ones had been, and one turned to open the door behind them while the other gave a nod of greeting.


    ¡°Go on then,¡± my escort prompted while giving me a little push. ¡°She wants to see you, and the cuffs are keyed to her too. And don¡¯t embarrass me, kid, I kinda like this job. Pays pretty well.¡±


    Right, okay. This is it. Did I have any ideas about how to get out of here without seeing the Easy Eight leader? Did I have a way to escape without walking into that room, with these guards in front of me, Cavalcade behind, and a warehouse full of enemies, while wearing these handcuffs that would slam me to the ground as soon as I tried to leave?


    No. No, I did not. So I had no choice. Closing my eyes briefly, I exhaled before walking through the door.


    Entering the office, I saw Deicide immediately. As usual, she looked like a tall, paper-covered female knight. Or like a statue made of paper. Either way, she stood in the corner of the room, near a large wall-mounted television that was currently dark. As I came in, her head turned toward me, and a handful of books floated off the nearby desk. One of them opened up, pages turning rapidly until it stopped, as a disembodied voice read a word on the page. ¡°Hello¡ª¡± A second book had already been flipping through its pages, stopping at another point to add, ¡°Paintball.¡±


    Yeah, that was really freaky. And, speaking objectively, pretty cool. As far as I knew, no one understood why she didn¡¯t just speak for herself. There were rumors that she was actually mute, or that she just did it for intimidation. Either way, this was how she communicated.


    We faced each other for a moment before I nodded. ¡°I¡¯d wave, but¡­¡± I shrugged my shoulders pointedly to indicate the handcuffs. ¡°Of course, you could always take them off. Then I¡¯ll do all the waving you like.¡±


    The floating books flipped through pages rapidly, words coming basically as quickly as a single person talking normally. ¡°On your way out the door, I suppose? You¡¯re fun, kid. I hope nobody has to hurt you too much.¡±


    It was a reminder that made me swallow a little, lifting my chin. ¡°Like I told your pit bull in the other room, I¡¯m not sentencing one kid to being tortured by you people until she builds whatever you want, and another one to die from some disease just so you can take her medicine and¡ª¡±


    In mid-sentence, I was interrupted as the figure in front of me held up a small, familiar object. The books flipped through pages before announcing, ¡°This medicine?¡±


    That was it. It was a vial, just like the one  I had gotten from Ashton. They were basically identical. My mouth fell open, and I just stared for a moment. ¡°You¡­ you have the¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just one,¡± the floating books informed me while Deicide tucked the vial away somewhere on herself while continuing to speak through her books. ¡°Let¡¯s just say, Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s men found it. As I understand, the Ashton boy hid it somewhere in the inventor girl¡¯s shop. They turned the place upside down, but this was the only one. And I ensured that it made its way here.¡±


    There was a brief pause then, while I continued to stare in shock, before she mused, ¡°He didn¡¯t tell you about that yet, did he? So he¡¯s still being cagey about where the rest of them are.¡±


    I started to say something, but she held up a hand, her books continuing. ¡°Let¡¯s settle a few things right now. First, if I wanted to take the location of your friend, I could. Along with any other secret you might have.¡±


    Before I could object, she made a gesture toward the corner of the room, where someone I hadn¡¯t noticed before was sitting. As my gaze moved that way, the man stood up, coming more into view. He wore a sleek red suit over a black silk shirt, with red leather boots and a full face-covering devil mask that was a mix of black and gold.


    ¡°Hi there,¡± he spoke in a silky-smooth voice. ¡°Would you mind telling me what you had for dinner last night?¡±


    Oh. Well, I could do that. Dinner? That didn¡¯t give anything away. ¡°Lamb chops with garlic-rosemary sauce and roasted potatoes.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, must¡¯ve been a special occasion,¡± the devil-faced man replied. ¡°How about telling me the first letter of the name of the street your house is on, then walk over to that table over there, pick up that knife, and cut off your left index finger?¡±


    Hey, that was totally reasonable. He wasn¡¯t asking about Wren or Ashton. ¡°N,¡± I promptly answered, while moving to the table. Putting my back to it, I fumbled a bit before finding the knife, then somewhat awkwardly tried to line it up with my other hand.


    ¡°Okay, stop right there,¡± the man ordered. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    I stopped, wondering what I¡¯d done wrong. Did he want me to take off a different finger? I¡¯d heard him right, hadn¡¯t I? It was¨C


    Fuck! Jerking backward, I dropped the knife. It clattered to the table, then to the floor while I stumbled and cursed in shock. What¨Chow was¨Cthat guy had¡­


    ¡°You see?¡± Deicide announced through her books after giving a dismissive wave of her hand for the man to leave, which he did with a salute toward me. ¡°He may dislike direct confrontation, but Devil¡¯s Due is still quite useful. It would be a very simple matter for me to extract all the information you¡¯re trying to hide, if I really wanted to. Given five minutes, I would know all of your secrets. And that¡¯s not counting the¡­ less easy methods a few of my people would like to use.¡±


    She let that sink in for a moment, before continuing. ¡°Despite what you may think of me, I don¡¯t want Blackjack¡¯s daughter to die. Nor do I want to torture your little friend. Oddly enough, hurting a genius inventor and then depending on her to build something I would subsequently use feels like a bad idea.


    ¡°So no, I don¡¯t want to hurt either girl. Nor do I want to hurt you. I want favors. Three, actually. One from you, for ensuring you get out of this place without further¡­ damage. One from that girl for letting her brand new friend go. And one from Blackjack, in exchange for the vial that I have. Three favors, three wishes. Think of yourselves as a three-headed Genie.¡±


    I hesitated for a second before asking, ¡°How do you know we¡¯ll actually do anything for you after this?


    There was a slight chuckle from the actual figure rather than from any book, but it sounded kind of weird. Almost more high-pitched than it should? Before I could dwell on that too much, her books replied, ¡°Blackjack is a man of his word, to a fault. If he swears he will do something for me, within reason, he will. As for you and the girl, well, let¡¯s just say I doubt this will be the last time that the two of us are face-to-face. And I assume you would rather not be on my very bad side. After all, even enemies can be cordial and owe one another. That¡¯s the way the world works.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t hurt anyone,¡± I informed her. ¡°That would kind of defeat the purpose of this deal.¡±


    Her head bowed a bit. ¡°Of course it would. And if I wanted people hurt, I have no shortage of people willing to do that. You¡¯re impressive, kid, but I have enough leg-breakers. No, I promise you any favor I ask will not knowingly kill anyone at all, nor will it hurt anyone who doesn¡¯t have it coming by your own moral standard, and within the bounds of the same. There, are you happy now?¡±


    I hesitated again, thinking quickly. ¡°I can¡¯t speak for Wren. I¡¯m not in charge of her.¡±


    ¡°Just ensure that she knows exactly why you were freed,¡± came the response. ¡°And make it clear that the same deal applies. Whatever I ask her to build will not directly kill anyone. I am asking for favors, not trying to convert either of you to the dark side of the Force.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t make any promises except for myself,¡± I replied, ¡°but on my part, you have a deal.¡± What else could I do? By some miracle, maybe I could get out of here. But I doubted it. And I certainly couldn¡¯t get that vial off of her first. No, despite myself, this was the best solution. Owing a favor to any bad guy seemed really wrong. But then, I was already working to save the daughter of one. So this situation was weird to begin with. And she had promised that it wouldn¡¯t be killing anyone or anything like that. I still felt like I was going to regret this somehow, but didn¡¯t have another choice.


    ¡°Excellent,¡± the books replied for her. ¡°Then I will have Cavalcade take you somewhere, remove the cuffs, and drop you off. She¡¯ll also exchange phone numbers with you. When that number calls, answer. Give it to the others as well. And tell Blackjack the sooner he calls me, the sooner we can work out a deal for him getting this vial back. Which, as I understand, will give him another full month with his daughter.


    ¡°It¡¯s been nice talking to you, Paintball. I hope this is the beginning of a long and mutually beneficial relationship.


    ¡°Or at the very least, that I don¡¯t have to have you killed the next time we meet.¡±

 Alliances 6-02

    So, on the plus side, I now knew where one of the missing vials was. And to get it, all I had to do was promise a favor to one of the biggest supervillains in the city.


    Well, that¡¯s what I had to do. There was also the matter of the favors from Wren and Blackjack. The former had agreed basically as soon as she learned what the deal was. She wanted to help anyway she could, after her stuff had been used to steal the vials in the first place. I had caught the guilty look on Fred¡¯s face at that point. Good, he should feel guilty, even if he didn¡¯t know how badly this whole thing would go.


    As far as people who didn¡¯t feel guilty went, I had a thought briefly about informing Ashton that the vial he¡¯d left in the shop had been found and accounted for, but decided against it. There was a chance that, for whatever reason, holding that information back might pay off in the long run. And telling him wouldn¡¯t accomplish anything aside from letting me feel smug for a few seconds. So, just in case, I said nothing about it to him and asked the others to do the same. He was probably counting on us not being able to get the vial away from Cu¨¦lebre, and I preferred he just go on thinking that.


    Blackjack, for his part, had barely paused when the offer was brought to his attention. He agreed basically immediately, simply saying that he would rather negotiate with Deicide than Cu¨¦lebre, which¡­ yeah. I was basically totally with him on that. She seemed infinitely more reasonable than the demon-dragon guy who had almost killed me. Even if I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was something off about her. I wasn¡¯t sure what it was, but I was sure that she was at least a better person to have this kind of deal with than Cu¨¦lebre, as far as incredibly powerful and dangerous super villains went.


    And geez, how many of those was I going to come face-to-face with in a short time anyway? I was basically working my way through the list of the who¡¯s who of the Detroit Fell-Touched underworld.


    In any case, after everything that had happened, once I finished letting Wren and Blackjack know what was going on, I was beat. It had been a very long couple of hours, and the ¡®rest¡¯ I¡¯d gotten while knocked unconscious hadn¡¯t exactly been all that restful. So, even though it was still fairly early in the evening, I had gone home to crash, basically passing out immediately.


    That lasted for all of about four hours. Then I was wide-awake in what amounted to the middle of the night. Seriously, this whole hero thing wasn¡¯t going to kill me through violence, it was going to do it through fucking with my sleep cycle.


    After the scare I¡¯d had with getting captured and very nearly tortured, maybe I should have stayed home. Hell, that was the main reason I couldn¡¯t go back to sleep. Tired as I had been, I¡¯d jolted awake from some nightmare that vanished the second my eyes opened. But I knew if I closed them again, it would be back. I¡¯d tried to watch a movie for a while, but I couldn¡¯t focus on it. I just ended up looking around my enormous room with all my stuff and thinking about how it had come to be. That made me feel guilty. There were people out there on the streets who needed help. Who was I to sit here in my gigantic bed watching my enormous television? Was being scared because I¡¯d gotten knocked out and almost really hurt that much of an excuse? No.


    So, I¡¯d gotten up and snuck out of the house. Now, I was back in costume, working my way through the city. There wasn¡¯t actually much real crime going on that I could see. But I found another way to help. Or at least assuage my guilt a little bit, depending on how cynical one wanted to be.


    Basically, I took a couple hundred dollars or so into an all-night grocery store and bought a bunch of sandwiches, chips, and other things. Boy had that been an interesting time, seeing the few people in there staring at me in costume as I made my way through the aisles.  To say nothing of the look on the clerk¡¯s face when I checked out. He kept asking if I was going to some kind of party or cosplay thing. I tried to keep things vague while still being polite, and he seemed to understand. Though I could tell he still had a lot of questions.


    Taking the supplies in a few large bags, I made my way through the streets, handing them out to the homeless people I saw. Everyone got a sandwich, a bag of chips, a bottle of water, some basic toiletries like soap, toothpaste/brush, deodorant, and disposable razors. That kind of thing.


    It wasn¡¯t much. I wasn¡¯t going to solve homelessness in an evening with a couple hundred dollars. I knew that. But it might help a few people, or at least make them feel a little better about themselves for a bit. Maybe I could do more later. Maybe I¡¯d think of something else that wouldn¡¯t attract too much attention. For now, this was all I could think of, and it kept me busy.


    Not everyone was all that openly appreciative, of course. I did receive plenty of gratitude, probably more than I deserved. But there were also others who simply snatched what I gave to them and cursed me for looking down on them. A couple even refused, one man spitting at me. It wasn¡¯t that many, and far from any kind of representative sample. But they existed, and I didn¡¯t really hold it against them too much. Being cursed out even as my gifts were being accepted wasn¡¯t that bad. I had no real idea about the kind of things these people went through, so I wasn¡¯t going to judge them for being a bit nasty.


    No, the ones who really bothered me were those who were very clearly not able to take care of themselves. The ones who were not all there in the head, who needed to be in some kind of care facility. Those were the ones who messed me up. I wanted to do more for them. I wanted to take them into a hospital, or something. I wanted to scream at passersby that these people were their fellow human beings who needed help, and why the hell were they just walking past the guy laying in the gutter muttering to himself?


    But I couldn¡¯t do any of that. It wouldn¡¯t have accomplished anything. I just gave them what I could, told myself I would find a way to do more, and kept going.


    Blankets. Coats. That¡¯s what I needed to get. Blankets and coats. Jackets. Pillows. Things that could make them a little more comfortable.


    Then I saw it, police cars and crime scene tape all around some convenience store. There were people watching from the sidelines as a lot of body bags started to be carried out to waiting vans. From the looks of it, there were over a dozen bodies. Through the glass windows of the store, I could see a couple uniformed cops standing by Dynamic and RePete, of the Conservators. Dynamic was a speedster who could temporarily drain superpowers from people she ran near and use the energy she gained from that to form lasers, shields, or weapons. As for RePete, people thought he was some kind of short-term precog for awhile. But apparently, his actual power had something to do with going back in time just a couple of seconds. There were some kind of limitations to it, but they weren¡¯t exactly open about advertising exactly how it worked. All I knew was that from an outside point of view, he seemed to simply know when something was going to happen right before it did.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw a man in a jogging suit step over to me. He was frowning, head shaking as he gestured toward the building. ¡°Hey, when the fuck are you Star-Touched types gonna do something about this shit, huh?¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡° I asked quietly, afraid of what kind of answer I¡¯d get considering how many bodies were being taken out.


    ¡°The Scions,¡± another man answered. ¡°Mostly Pencil, but somebody said there might have been a couple others around.¡±


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Pencil. Of all the Fell-Touched in the city, he was the one who freaked people out the most. Others might have been more outright powerful or able to do more widespread damage, but Pencil was just¡­ wrong. As far as anyone could tell, his only motivation, and by extension, the motivation of his Scions, was to worship the Abyssal named Typhon, and cause as much chaos and misery as possible. Sometimes they stole things from their crime scenes, while other times stuff that was incredibly valuable and just sitting there would be left alone. Sometimes they targeted big events full of rich people and other times they would attack a single house or even some random person on the street for no apparent reason. Sometimes they would go weeks or even a month or so without doing anything, and other times their attacks would come several times in the same day. Their creed apparently was to make everyone know that anyone could be a victim. They spread chaos, that was it.


    They were all monsters, and Pencil was the worst. I had no trouble believing he was responsible for all the dead bodies in that store. He wasn¡¯t the worst or most dangerous Fell-Touched in the world. The ¡®honor¡¯ of both those titles went to a woman called Casura.


    But still, Casura wasn¡¯t here in Detroit. Pencil was (when he wasn¡¯t somewhere else in the general area). And he had to be stopped, these guys were right about that. But the problem was, nobody knew how to do that. The guy had been shot dozens if not hundreds of times, set on fire, hit with God only knew how many different kinds of Touched attacks, stabbed, left in an exploding building, dropped off several other tall buildings, and more I was definitely forgetting about. Nothing stuck. The guy was invincible, or something.  He¡¯d been captured a couple times and restrained, but that never got very far before his minions set upon the person who caught them. They were always there in the background, pretending to be part of the crowd. Any time you dealt with Pencil, you had to assume that some of the people in the crowd of onlookers that he was playing up to would actually be members of the Scions.


    Realizing that the men who had approached me were still waiting for an answer, I hesitated before shaking my head. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I wish I knew how we could stop him. He can¡¯t just keep getting away with this.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the guy in the jogging suit snapped, ¡°he can¡¯t. So I say again, what are you people going to do about it? Stand here with your thumbs up your ass not doing a damn thing while that guy goes around and¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry that we got here too late.¡±


    The words came from behind me, and all three of us turned. I was pretty sure we all had matching looks of astonishment, though for very different reasons.


    It was my dad. Well, it was Silversmith, all gleaming metal as he continued. ¡°Let¡¯s not blame the kid here for not being able to magically do the thing we adults should have been able to take care of. I understand your frustration, sir, I truly do. I promise you, we are not going to let this or any of his other crimes stand. We will bring him in and he will face justice. True justice. ¡±


    Neither of the men who had approached me seemed to want to argue with him. I could see the frustration on their faces, but they said nothing while backing off. As they moved away, my father¡¯s head turned until he was looking right at me. ¡°You okay?¡±


    In my short career as a superhero, I had already had a few chances to be glad that I wore a helmet. Never more so than right then. It meant that he couldn¡¯t see my expression at all. Not even the little bit he might¡¯ve been able to make out with just the normal mask. He couldn¡¯t see anything.


    Staring at him for a moment, my mind remained totally blank. Luckily, I was pretty sure he was accustomed to that kind of reaction from people who first met him. It would definitely make sense that I seemed starstruck, right?


    A sudden thought occurred to me, and I made a motion up toward my helmet. I was trying to make it look as though I was reflexively moving to adjust glasses on my face before the helmet got in the way.  Hopefully, my father would add the idea that the person under the helmet wore glasses to his mental image of them. Of me. Making it look as casual as possible, I stopped when my fingers hit the visor before giving a quick, nervous nod. That part I didn¡¯t have to fake.


    ¡°Y-yes, sir.¡± Oh God, I very nearly called him Dad. Seriously, it was right on the tip of my tongue. How bad would that have been? Even with my voice changer, that probably would have given the game away. How stupid did I have to be to¡ª


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them bother you,¡± Dad advised, with a nod toward the guys who had backed off. ¡°They¡¯re just¡­ afraid and frustrated. They want all this to stop. They think we should be able to take this guy down, and frankly, they¡¯re right. We should have brought him in by now. Everyone he kills is¡­¡± His voice cracked a little there, before he seemed to realize where he was, letting out a breath. ¡°Sorry, it gets to everyone sometimes, so you don¡¯t have to feel like there¡¯s something wrong with you or anything.¡±


    He extended a hand to me. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ve heard a lot about you, but it¡¯s nice to finally formally meet. Pretty sure you know the name¡¯s Silversmith, but a lot of people just call me Smith, and that¡¯s fine. Ahh¡­¡±


    He trailed off, and I realized what he was waiting for. He was still holding his hand out. With a start, I took it and squeezed. I was shaking my father¡¯s hand. Would he somehow suddenly realize the truth? Did he know me well enough to know what my hand felt like even through a glove? Some paranoid part of me thought he did. I was expecting him to suddenly say my name, expecting him to figure it out any second.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± I abruptly blurted, as if to introduce myself. Part of it was me wanting to shove that name into his head instead of my real name, just in case some psychic part of him was building up.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± my father echoed as though testing the name. He released my hand with a nod. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve already heard a lot of good things about you. You¡¯re making a name for yourself pretty quick. It¡¯s impressive. Especially that showing against Cu¨¦lebre. You even saved those civilian onlookers. Nice job.¡±


    My throat went dry, and I had to swallow hard. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to help people.¡± And figure out exactly how your criminal empire operates in the process, so I can do something about it.


    ¡°Well,¡± Dad replied, ¡°You¡¯re certainly doing that. But nobody can fix everything, especially by themselves.¡± With those words, he looked over toward the convenience store all the bodies had been brought out of. ¡°Everyone needs help, even if they are some kind of prodigy.¡±


    Seriously, when he said that, despite everything, I felt a sudden, strong rush of pride. My father was a supervillain, but he was still my father, and he called me a prodigy.


    How fucked up were my priorities?


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard,¡± Dad pressed on, ¡°that you¡¯re not interested in joining the Minority. I¡­ I do wish you might reconsider that. As well as you¡¯ve been doing, it¡¯s like I said, everyone needs help sometimes. You could really get in trouble out there without backup, without a team. And I¡¯d hate to see anything happen to you, kid. With monsters like Pencil out there¡­¡± He sighed low and regretfully, shaking his head. ¡°Just give it a little more thought, okay? I know the team would love to have you around. Especially That-A-Way. She thinks you¡¯d really fit in.¡±


    What was I supposed to say to that? It would look super suspicious if I just flat out denied him again. He might start looking into why I didn¡¯t want to be part of their team. So, I forced myself to give a very short nod. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it, sir. I just¡­ need to do this on my own for now.¡±


    He seemed to watch me for a few long seconds then, before giving a short nod. ¡°I can respect that, just so long as you think about it. Anytime you change your mind, or just want some advice, you know where to go. You¡¯ve got that number, right?¡± When I nodded, he gestured. ¡°I¡¯ve got to head back in there and see if there¡¯s anything else we can do. You should probably head on out of here. The bad guy¡¯s gone, for now anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ yeah.¡± Trying not to let myself sound as freaked out as I actually was about being so close to my father while he was about to go back into a scene like the one that had to be in that store, I waved vaguely. ¡°I¡¯ll ummm, I¡¯ll get out of your way.¡±


    Stepping back, I watched for another moment as my dad turned and headed back into the shop. Glancing around, I closed my eyes and slumped a little, trembling despite myself before forcing my feet to turn and carry me away from that place, away from all of that death and misery.


    I had made it. I¡¯d gotten through my first face-to-face, of sorts, meeting with my father in costume. And, as far as I could tell, he didn¡¯t suspect anything like the truth. That was a good thing, right? My supervillain father didn¡¯t know that I knew who he was. That was absolutely, definitely a good thing.


    So why did I feel so bad?

 Alliances 6-03

    I was still coming to terms with how I felt about that conversation with my father a couple minutes later when the phone I used for Touched stuff buzzed in my pocket. Blinking down, I plucked it out and gazed over the city from the roof of the building I was on while answering. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Paintball?¡± A vaguely familiar voice spoke, and I belatedly realized who it was just as he introduced himself. ¡°It¡¯s Eits. You know, we¡­ uhhh¡­ yeah. We did that thing.¡±


    Immediately put on guard, I asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Did something happen to the computers at¡ª¡±


    He interrupted quickly. ¡°No, no. That¡¯s all fine. The computers are good. We¡¯re great, with that, anyway. Sorry, I just¡­ I didn¡¯t know who to¡­ um.¡± There was a brief, distinctly awkward pause before he managed a weak, ¡°I know it¡¯s weird, but I kinda need some help.¡±


    Taking my phone away from my ear, I stared at it for a moment before moving it back. ¡°Help? What could I possibly help you with? And don¡¯t you have basically a whole army of people already behind you? I might not be an expert at this whole team thing, but I am pretty sure that¡¯s the entire point of having one. You know, to get help from.¡±


    I could hear the wince in his voice. He hesitated before slowly replying, ¡°This really isn¡¯t something I want to involve them in or even have them know about at all. I swear, I¡¯m not asking you to do anything illegal or whatever. Not¡­ really, anyway. I just¡­ need a little help. I¡¯m stuck.¡±


    That made me blink. ¡°You¡¯re stuck? Not like Winnie the Pooh in Piglet¡¯s backdoor, right?¡±


    ¡°It was Rabbit¡¯s,¡± he corrected me. ¡°And no, more like stuck on top of the roof of a building. I¡¯m up here and the door is really heavy and deadbolted. I think there might be some kind of bar on the other side too. Anyway, I don¡¯t have any way to get down.¡±


    Tilting my head, I asked, ¡°You and your friends didn¡¯t happen to get really drunk for a bachelor party, did you? Do you see a tiger anywhere?¡±


    There was a snort from the other end of the line. ¡°They were drugged with Rohypnol in the movie, not just drunk. And no, definitely no tiger and no drugs. Just me sitting up here alone on the roof waiting for someone to call the cops. Or for a wonderful, friendly, oh-so-helpful and incredibly understanding¡ª¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, stop.¡± Taking in a breath and letting it out, I asked, ¡°You¡¯re sure that I¡¯m not helping you get away with something really bad? Because I am going to be really ticked off if it turns out you just stole like a million dollar computer chip or something and I¡¯m helping you escape. I don¡¯t think we could be phone buddies after that.¡±


    ¡°I swear,¡± came the reply. ¡°I didn¡¯t break in here to steal things. I mean, technically, I did. But it¡¯s personal, not like¡­ I mean¡­¡± he trailed off, very clearly trying to decide how much to tell me. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s personal. I did break in here. I was trespassing. Am trespassing, technically. I did break in here to steal something. But it¡¯s a personal family heirloom type thing. It belongs to me. And it¡¯s not some huge expensive computer stuff. It¡¯s just¡­ mine. It was left for me and taken away from me. I had to get it back. If you don¡¯t want to help with that, I¡­ I get it. I¡¯ll just call one of the others and try to¡ª¡±


    Sighing inwardly, I shook my head. ¡°Give me the address. I¡¯ll get you off the roof. But like I said, if it turns out that you¡¯re playing me right now¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± he assured me. ¡°Cross my heart and fall in rye.¡±


    ¡°Err, fall in rye?¡±


    Now he really sounded embarrassed. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s an inside family thing. I¡­ anyway, here¡¯s the address.


    ¡°And Paintball¡­ thanks.¡±


    ******


    The building that Eits was stuck on top of was a twelve story high office place. So I really couldn¡¯t blame the poor guy for not being able to get down. Whether I ended up being able to blame him for getting stuck in the first place was not yet decided.


    I saw him sitting on one of those metal boxes on top of the roof as I yanked myself over from the place next-door. His feet were kicking idly back-and-forth while he looked at his phone. When I landed, he jerked in surprise, nearly falling off the box. Quickly, I shot a thing of red paint that way and yanked him toward me before he could fall, letting the paint fade before catching him by the arms.


    ¡°Whoa,¡± I teased, ¡°I know you¡¯re glad to see me, but I¡¯m pretty sure a simple thank you suffices between dudes.¡±


    He looked embarrassed, the exposed parts of his face flushing a little while the boy waved a hand. ¡°Uh, thanks. Seriously, I didn¡¯t know what I was going to do until I realized I could try calling you. I was this close to having to suffer the embarrassment of asking one of La Casa for help.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I replied dryly, ¡°imagine having to ask for help from your own teammates. That would be horrific.¡±


    He coughed. ¡°Like I said, this isn¡¯t any of their business. And it¡¯s not really their kind of thing anyway. I just had to get something.¡±


    ¡°And you promised this thing isn¡¯t a million dollar computer chip,¡± I reminded him pointedly.


    In response, the boy reached into his pocket to produce what turned out to be a baseball. There was a signature scrawled across it, which he held up for me to see.


    ¡°Warner Towling?¡± I read aloud. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m not much of a baseball guy. Doesn¡¯t sound familiar.¡±


    Eits shook his head. ¡°It probably wouldn¡¯t anyway. He never got out of the minors. He was uhh¡­¡± There was a brief pause then as he realized how much he would have to say if he wanted to explain. ¡°Fuck it. He was my grandpa. And yeah, you could probably find out a lot from that, but please don¡¯t. That¡¯s all I can really say. He was my grandfather and he was basically the only guy in my entire family who accepted my situation.¡±


    The words made me tilt my head. ¡°That you¡¯re a super villain?¡±


    He coughed. ¡°No, that I¡­ uhhh, shit.¡± Again, the boy paused, somehow looking even more nervous and uncomfortable than before. Even though I couldn¡¯t see all of his face, he definitely seemed¡­ afraid? ¡°Grandpa Warner was the only guy in my family who accepted that I wasn¡¯t¡­ comfortable the way I was born. He¡¯s the guy who said it would be okay if I¡­ if I transitioned, and that he¡¯d still be there for me.¡± His voice cracked a little with the words, speaking the last few quickly while looking away from me.


    ¡°If you transi¡ª¡± I stopped suddenly as it occurred to me. ¡°Oh. Oh. So you¡¯re¡­ I mean¡­¡±


    He nodded once. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I was born Molly. But that¡¯s not who I am. That¡¯s not who I ever was, not inside. But my parents could never accept that. This ball was mine. It was the last ball Grandpa Warner ever used in the minors. He signed it and he gave it to me. He¡­ he s-said that he wanted me to have it so I¡¯d know that no matter what happened, he was on my side. And that when I transitioned, maybe I could play on his¡­ his old team someday.¡± His voice was cracking a little as the boy fought against strong emotions while rolling the ball between his hands. He could barely say the words.


    ¡°But my dad took it when they kicked me out. That¡¯s why I had to get it back, when I found out he was keeping it in his office. It¡¯s not really worth anything. But¡­ it¡¯s worth everything. Everything.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured him. ¡°I get it. Kind of. I¡¯m glad you got your ball back. But¡­ your parents really didn¡¯t¡­ they don¡¯t accept you? Even with Baldur out there?¡±


    Baldur, the world¡¯s most powerful superhero. They were part of the world-wide hero team known as Armistice. Basically, the US, Canada, Japan, Germany, the UK, Brazil, Australia, and France all contributed their most powerful Star-Touched to the team. The one from the US was a woman called Radiant. Baldur was Germany¡¯s, and they were absolutely the strongest Star-Touched in the world. Mostly because they had the power to change their power. No one I knew of was sure how it worked, just that Baldur switched bodies with¡­ other versions of themselves or something. Each version had different powers that they could use. Some of those bodies were male, some were female. Baldur considered themselves genderfluid. The fact that the biggest superhero in the world switched seemingly randomly between being male and female had really put a bright light on that whole thing, and changed some people¡¯s minds about it.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°No,¡± Eits replied. ¡°I guess for some people, Baldur¡¯s more of a target for hate than an inspiration. Funny how having one example doesn¡¯t magically erase their disgust, huh?¡±


    Wincing, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, sorry, I guess that¡­¡± My head shook. ¡°How did you get stuck out here in the first place?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°I managed to get all the way up through the building, into Dad¡¯s office, and got the ball. Then when I was leaving, this big security guy started on his patrols. I had to hide, so I came out here and left the door open a tiny crack. He noticed, aaaand closed and locked it. So here we are.¡±


    Chuckling a bit despite myself, I looked to him. ¡°So the big bad super villain gets his uhh¡­ wait, is umm¡­ he and his¡­ is that what you¡­¡± He nodded quickly, and I pushed on. ¡°So the big bad super villain gets his ass kicked by a locked door. What would the grand league of evil say?¡±


    ¡°If there was a grand league of evil,¡± Eits informed me, ¡°they¡¯d tell me, ¡®That will be two sugars and one cream. And while you¡¯re at it, fetch me the newspaper and my slippers.¡¯¡±


    My head tilted. ¡°That accent, while you were turning yourself into some kind of dog fetching slippers, did you also make your hypothetical master supervillain British?¡±


    He coughed. ¡°Maybe. I blame Star Wars, and basically every other movie that made the bad guys British.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I pointed out, ¡°you didn¡¯t have him ask for tea, so you didn¡¯t go totally stereotypical.¡±


    ¡°Good point.¡± Eits chuckled under his breath. ¡±Hey, maybe to completely avoid stereotype, and confuse people, he should keep the accent but be named something like Billy Bob or Jimbo.¡±


    I snickered a little. ¡°Jim-Bob the maniacal and despotic leader of the Grand League of Evil, with a British accent and a fondness for slippers and coffee.¡±


    ¡°Evil Villains International League,¡± he corrected me solemnly. ¡°That¡¯s the name they¡¯ve got to go with.¡±


    Checking the acronym on that, I laughed. ¡°EVIL, that¡¯s great. Jim-Bob the grand inquisitor of EVIL. I like it.¡±


    The two of us smiled for a moment before I thought about the thing I had just walked away from, and cringed a bit. What was wrong with me?


    Frowning a bit, the boy asked, ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡­ it¡¯s just¡­ Pencil.¡±


    That got his attention, the boy quickly demanding, ¡°What? Did you see him? Are you okay? What were¡ª¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t see him,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s just¡­¡± Hesitantly, I informed him of what I¡¯d seen back at the convenience store. ¡°And they were just carrying out all those body bags while people wanted to know why we let stuff like that happen.¡±


    He winced. ¡°And then we were just making jokes about¡­ sorry. But seriously, stay away from that guy. He¡¯s super bad news and I don¡¯t want to think about you being anywhere near him or his freaks.¡±


    ¡°Neither do I,¡±  I assured him. ¡°At least he¡¯s not the one who caught me earlier. That would¡¯ve ended up a hell of a lot worse.¡±


    He gave me a sharp look at that. ¡°Caught you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story, your boss knows the important bit.¡±  I paused then before hesitantly offering, ¡°But I¡¯ve still got a couple sandwiches from earlier If you want to go somewhere and be bribed with food so I can talk about it. You know, unless you¡¯re busy with more roofs to get trapped on top of. I heard there¡¯s some really good ones over on the northeast side, with a great view of that police station with all those pillars out in front. And when you get tired of being stuck, you could wave to the cops down there to see if they¡¯ll let you down.¡±


    ¡°Nah, I think this was the last one on my schedule.¡± Eits smiled a little. ¡°Sandwich sounds great. You get pretty hungry being stuck up on roofs like this. They don¡¯t exactly have a McDonalds.¡±


    ¡°You mean Dominos doesn¡¯t deliver here?¡± I gave a scandalized gasp before nodding. ¡°Sure, we can eat. Just let me get you down from here first. We¡¯ll find some other place to sit and I¡¯ll tell you what happened earlier.


    ¡°Then, when I¡¯m done, maybe you can tell me more about Grandpa Warner the baseball player. Because he sounds like a pretty great guy.¡±


    ******


    The next few days passed fairly uneventfully. Except, of course, for the fact that I didn¡¯t sleep very well. I kept having nightmares about being trapped with Janus, so I ended up sleeping three or four hours in the afternoon and three or four hours in the middle of the night. Which was probably good for the whole superhero thing, but it really wasn¡¯t the way I wanted to get onto that kind of schedule.


    I spent my days at school, helping with the history project, or seeing what I could do for Wren¡¯s work. The answer to the latter one was not much. I fetched things, held things, basically did whatever grunt work she needed that Fred and Pack weren¡¯t already doing.


    The point was, the days basically flew by, while nights (or anytime I was trying to sleep) dragged as I kept waking up in a cold sweat. I was glad there was a lot of space between my rooms and Simon¡¯s, because I cried out a few times and that really wasn¡¯t something I wanted to try to explain. Although the thought of the look on his face if I did tell him exactly what was wrong was almost amusing. Almost.


    But finally, it was Saturday, the day of the Reformation Ball. It was a huge deal. I¡¯d always known that to some extent, but actually needing to be a part of it made me realize just how big it was. Mom had me go to a stylist basically the second she and Dad had returned the day before, and checked on me about thirty times that morning to make sure everything was fine. I was pretty sure she was afraid I would find a puddle of mud or something to splash around in while she wasn¡¯t looking.


    At the moment, I was eating lunch in the smaller dining room, carefully cutting away a bite sized piece of roast duck when my father entered and put a hand on my shoulder. It took everything I had not to tense up.


    ¡°There¡¯s my girl. I thought you would¡¯ve found a hole to hide in by now to get away from your mother¡¯s last minute adjustments and checks.¡±


    It was so tempting to respond to that by asking what hole he and Mom had been hiding in when they were pretending to have left the city. I could even follow that up by asking if he¡¯d had any luck tracking down Pencil after that horrific scene at the shop. But I was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t really go over very well. Just like with Simon though, it might¡¯ve been nice for a few seconds just to see his reaction.


    Instead, I shook my head. Swallowing the bit of duck, I replied, ¡°It¡¯s not so bad. We¡¯re only on visit thirty-two.¡±


    Smiling, Dad took a seat at the table across from me and turned to press an intercom nearby, informing the cook in the kitchen what he would like for lunch. Then he looked to me. ¡°Wait until this afternoon, it¡¯ll probably get up into the hundreds. But don¡¯t take it personally, she still has to check on me all the time too. Can¡¯t go around embarrassing the family.¡±


    He really was setting me up for all those things I really shouldn¡¯t say or ask. I had to shove a bite of caramelized parsnips into my mouth to buy time to collect myself. Finally, I managed a smile, looking over at him. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s why she checks on you so much. She just loves me.¡±


    Making an affronted face and noise at the teasing, Dad retaliated by reaching across to steal a bit of my duck. ¡°Mmmm, now that is good stuff. I hope you said thank you.¡±


    My head bobbed obediently. ¡°Of course, who would get food this good delivered straight to their table and not say thank you?¡±


    Dad gave me a look before reaching over to ruffle the left (short) side of my hair before moving over to the right (long) side. ¡°You might be surprised. But I really shouldn¡¯t be by now. You¡¯re a good kid.¡±


    Setting my fork down, I squinted at him. ¡°Ahem, a good teenager. That is, a good teenager who is very close to passing driver¡¯s ed. And you know what that means.¡±


    He gave me a blank look while replying in a monotone voice, ¡°That it¡¯s time to raise the driving age to twenty-three?¡±


    I gave him a light kick under the table. ¡°Simon isn¡¯t even twenty-three yet.¡±


    He made a show of brightening. ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s an even better idea than I thought. I¡¯ll have the lawyers get right on that.¡±


    That earned him a raspberry. ¡°Fine, no more duck for you,¡± I retorted while using my arm to shield the plate. ¡°You¡¯re cut off.¡±


    He gave a low laugh at that, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m cut off, is that right?¡±


    His words made me shrink a little bit in my seat, playing it up a bit as I kept one hand over my plate. ¡°That¡¯s gonna backfire on me, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked in a small voice.


    His response was simply a slow, patient smile while he remained otherwise silent and motionless and kept staring at me pointedly.


    Yeah, I couldn¡¯t take much of that. After a couple seconds of it, I shivered and moved my hand so he could take another bit of meat. ¡°Fine fine, go wild. Have all the duck you want, just stop looking at me like that. Turn that look onto someone else, geez.¡±


    He grinned, promptly taking another bite before informing me, ¡°You know, in a normal family, it would be the daughter who gets the Dad to give her anything she wants with a look.¡±


    His words made me nod slowly, staring at my plate for a moment before managing a smile that I really wished was genuine as I looked up to him once more. ¡°Sure, Dad, but we¡¯re not exactly a normal family.


    ¡°We¡¯re not normal at all.¡±

 Alliances 6-04

    Oh boy, was this whole Reformation Ball thing a big deal. I¡¯d always known that, of course. Even from the time that I was a little kid, I¡¯d known the Ball was basically one of the most important events of the year in Detroit. But somehow, actually being there instead of sitting at home while my parents were out for the evening made it so much more obvious just how huge and important the whole thing was. I¡¯d known it was a big deal before. But now I really knew.


    The location for the event bounced around a little from year to year, as each of the three biggest and most amazing hotels in the city took turns hosting it. This year, it was being held at the Cloud Regal, a twenty-five story hotel that was shaped like the letter C. In the middle of the curve was the main grounds of the hotel, an elaborate garden area with twin fountains on either side of the main path. The water from the fountains shot high into the air in a complicated series of patterns that included shooting back and forth to one another in an arch-shape over the path.


    There were technically three separate parties. The biggest one was out on those grounds, where tables of food and drink had been set up, along with a stage for a live band and other entertainers. There was an entrance fee, but it was minimal. To buy a ticket cost about twenty dollars, which got you into the grounds, allowed you to see the entertainment, and provided access to all the food and most drinks, though the higher shelf stuff was still charged for.


    The next step over being on the grounds was being inside one of the three separate banquet rooms within the hotel. It was apparently a few hundred per seat to be in there, which got you much better quality food (not that the food outside wasn¡¯t great, but the more rare and expensive stuff was inside), and even more entertainment. It was a quieter dinner there, while outside was slightly more of a rambunctious, energetic party.


    Then there was the roof party. All the way at the top of the twenty-five story hotel was the roof garden where the true power in the city held their own dinner. The mayor, the chief of police, the governor of Michigan, the leadership of various hero organizations, business owners, community organizers, everyone who could afford a ticket or was sponsored by someone who could. Being on the roof required a minimum five thousand dollars per head.


    That was the general cost of each area. Twenty bucks to be outside, a couple hundred to be inside, five thousand to be on the roof. And every single ticket had been sold weeks ago. As happened every year, the event was completely sold out. And as always, one hundred percent of the proceeds from tonight would go to a charity. It was a different one each time. This year, all the money would go to the Gold Horizons Children¡¯s Hospital located just across the street from the hotel. Apparently the guy who owned this hotel had built the hospital because of his own son passing away from cancer, and when some rich guy tried to have the hospital closed down because it made him feel bad, the owner had had him banned not only from this place, but from every hotel, resort, and business he owned. Which, apparently, was a lot.


    My family, of course, was on the roof. I was there, in my ungodly expensive and beautiful dress that made me feel like a mutt that had crawled into Cinderella¡¯s gown and run off with it. The thing was so amazing and beautiful, all teal and shiny and¡­ and¡­ I was just¡­ not¡­ that. I wasn¡¯t right for it. This dress belonged on a tall, beautiful blonde prom queen, not on a little tomboy who barely topped five feet, with black hair that just would not stay tamed and was long on one side but short on the other.


    My mother¡¯s hand gently brushed my shoulder, and I turned a bit to see her smiling down at me. Her voice was soft against the light sound of quiet music in the background. ¡°You are radiant this evening, my beautiful Principessa. Thank you for coming, I¡¯m certain you could have found any number of other things to do. But having you here makes me so very proud.¡±


    I was still trying to work out how to respond to that, when her hand very gently brushed my face. Apparently she could still see dark circles there. ¡°Are you alright? You look so tired.¡±


    Well, Mom, I haven¡¯t been sleeping very well lately. First I found out that you and Dad are running some massive evil supervillain conspiracy. Then I became basically responsible for making sure an innocent little girl doesn¡¯t die or the city itself doesn¡¯t descend into war. And on top of all that, I was just recently knocked unconscious and abducted by a two-faced monster who really, really wants to torture me. Did I forget anything? Oh, right, and I owe a favor to that two-faced monster¡¯s boss for letting me get out of there with my blood still inside my body.


    Forcing a smile, I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Mom. It¡¯s just been a long day. Thanks for letting me come tonight. This is¡­¡± My eyes glanced around the roof, at all the beautiful candles that lit various pathways through the glass sculptures, the rich and beautiful chatting amicably, and the ungodly famous musician with his funny glasses playing his Candle in the Wind song on the piano. ¡°This is really great.¡± I looked back to her then. ¡°And kind of crazy.¡±


    Her beautiful smile returned, and she gently touched two fingers to her lips before brushing my cheek with them. ¡°You get used to it,¡± she murmured softly before glancing over my shoulder. ¡°I have to speak to Grant for a minute. Enjoy yourself, my beautiful girl. Make yourself known here, let people see you. I will make sure Simon or someone else is available to take you home in an hour or so if you¡¯re ready to leave then. There is no need for you to stay for the whole evening.¡±


    Promising to mingle, I watched my mother head over to chat with ¡®Grant¡¯. Also known as one of Michigan¡¯s senators. They started talking, and I heard Mom ask him about his son¡¯s football scholarship. It made me shake my head, turning away. How weird was it to be a part of all this? Because I¡¯d grown up with it, so I didn¡¯t really have the right perspective. Even then, however, this felt pretty weird. I stepped away from the spot where I¡¯d been talking to my mother, carefully making my way through the crowd. Here and there, I smiled to someone who recognized me (there weren¡¯t that many), greeting them and exchanging a few words. One of the passing waitresses handed me a wine glass with ginger ale in it, which I took a sip from while standing at the edge of the roof to look down at the main party. It was in full swing, and looked like they were having a lot of fun. There was an open space on the grass where people were dancing.


    The sound of someone clearing their throat made me glance back to see Tomas standing there. He gave me a smile that made my stomach start a boxing match with my heart, before moving up beside me. His voice was casual. ¡°Hey, Cassidy. Ahh, how are you doing?¡±


    I swallowed a bit. The past week had been complicated. I hadn¡¯t avoided Tomas at all. We hung out a few times, even got lunch together once. But it was just¡­ so¡­ yeah, complicated. I felt like even more of an idiot every time I thought about how him being bisexual had made me feel.


    I knew he cared about me. I knew he liked me. This changed nothing. He liked me for being me, regardless of whether I was a boy or a girl. That was a good thing, right? Yes. Yes, it was. It was indisputably a good thing. Logically, I knew that. I told myself that. I even thought I¡¯d convinced myself of it multiple times. Yet, every time I saw him, my brain whispered things like, ¡®Are you sure he doesn¡¯t just like you because you look like a cute little boy?¡¯


    Feelings were annoying, why did they have to be so complicated? I should just be able to tell my heart something and make it accept the plain stupid truth. Stupid emotions. Stupid, stupid emotions.


    Quickly, I forced myself to reply dryly, ¡°Oh, you know. Just another day.¡± Biting my lip, I looked at him. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d be here.¡± Pausing, I added, ¡°But I really should¡¯ve.¡±


    He chuckled lightly, waving vaguely over his shoulder. ¡°Yeah, Mum and Dad are over there somewhere. I¡¯m supposed to be here, look presentable, and not embarrass them.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like we have similar jobs,¡± I replied. ¡°You wanna share? Maybe it¡¯ll be easier.¡±


    He smiled again, and my heart did a little spin at the way it made his dimples show. ¡°That sounds like a pretty good idea to me. We can look presentable together. My parents love you enough anyway. My dad kept asking if I talked to you yet. I think they want to have you over for dinner at some point.¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Oh. My¡­ my ex¡¯s parents wanted to have me over for dinner. That wasn¡¯t as weird as it could be considering we¡¯d only broken up because of distance, right? Wait, if he was back, did that mean that he expected¡­ or that they expected¡­ wait, was this¡ª


    Tomas¡¯s hand found my arm, gently squeezing. ¡°Hey, hey, it¡¯s all right. None of us are dumb enough to think we¡¯re just going to go right back to the way we were, okay? And if Dad or Mum think otherwise, they¡¯ve got another thing coming. A year is a long time. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ve both changed a lot. I mean¡­ you know about my¡­ yeah. Maybe something else will come of it, maybe it won¡¯t. But you¡¯ve always been important, Cassidy. Whether we¡¯re just friends or end up being more than that, I want to get to know you again. So, I¡¯d love it if you came over for dinner at some point. No pressure, and if my parents start turning that on, I swear we¡¯ll go get one of your American pizza concoctions.¡±


    Squinting at him, I pointed. ¡°You can¡¯t fool me anymore, buster. I know for a fact you guys have plenty of pizza over in the UK.¡±


    Meeting my gaze, he gave a sage nod. ¡°Of course, we just call it open stromboli. Or opomboli.¡±


    He had me for just a second. I blinked, head tilting as I watched his expression. Then I frowned, punching him in the arm as subtly as possible, not wanting to cause a scene. ¡°You do not, jerk.¡±


    He laughed, looking charming again before turning to look out at the people below once more. For a moment, he was quiet before speaking again. ¡°I did miss you, Cassidy Evans. Even if you are not nearly as gullible as you were.¡± His gaze moved back to me with a wink. ¡°You¡¯ve changed too.¡±


    Swallowing back all the thoughts that brought up, I managed a shrug. ¡°I guess that¡¯s just a thing that happens. And I haven¡¯t changed all that much.¡± Boy, if he only knew. ¡°But I¡­ umm¡­¡± Shaking off the feelings, I gestured. ¡°We should probably go see about mingling a little bit more, huh? Pretty sure my parents¨Cor my mom mostly, would prefer I be seen instead of hanging out in the background.¡±


    ¡°We could dance, if you like,¡± he pointed out mildly, knowing full well that no one else was dancing. Not up here, anyway.


    ¡°I said ¡®be seen¡¯, not ¡®make a complete ass of myself,¡¯¡± I retorted before pulling him by the arm. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ll just walk and talk.¡±


    He obliged, and the two of us meandered our way through the crowd, making a couple circuits of the roof. We stopped now and then, chatting with various people. I tried to be as polite as possible, wanting, for some reason, to make a good impression for my supervillain parents. Weird.


    I also saw my dad twice. He was standing over with a few other rich guys, and Silversmith was right across the roof, talking to Flea and Caishen, leader of the Ten Towers corporate sponsored hero team. Other Star-Touched, including all the Minority members, were mingling with people too.  But I still had no idea how my parents were managing to make it look like Silversmith and my dad were both here. Maybe Dad had a body double? He could certainly afford one.


    In any case, it was eventually time for us to separate and rejoin our own families for dinner. I made my way over to the round table that had been set aside for us and found Simon and my parents already there. Dad took a moment to tell me how wonderful I looked, teasing me about being around Tomas again. Then he held Mom¡¯s chair out, Simon held mine, and we sat down before they joined us.


    ¡°Dad¡¯s right, you actually look like you belong here, Booster,¡± my brother teased. ¡°You haven¡¯t tripped over anything or started talking about Power Rangers or Ninja Turtles yet.¡±


    Forcing myself to smile, I retorted, ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t want to take away your most educational topics, dear brother. That would be terrible. What on Earth would you talk about then?¡±


    Mom cleared her throat pointedly, but I could see her smothering a small smile as she looked to us. ¡°Let¡¯s be nice,¡± she murmured softly before looking up to thank the waiter who brought our drinks. Wine for the three of them and apple cider for me. Dad had said it would be okay if I had one glass with them, but that didn¡¯t sound like a great idea to me, so I declined. Cider would be fine.


    We took our food a few minutes later, and watched as the mayor, followed by the governor, got up to give their speeches through the meal. ¡®Grant¡¯ the senator would be next, apparently. They would be going down to mingle with the other two party groups shortly, playing for future votes, of course. But first they would make nice with the rich people, like my parents. As part of that, Mayor Carter Bens would be accepting gifts on behalf of the city. It was another tradition born over the past couple decades, where the mayor would be given various presents of expensive things that would be put on display in City Hall for a few months before being donated and the proceeds given toward the city¡¯s emergency services like police, fire, and hospitals.


    Once that started, Dad made a small noise in the back of his throat while looking to Mom. ¡°You know, I think¨C¡±


    ¡°We forgot our gift in the room,¡± she finished for him, sighing a little. She glanced around as though to flag down a waiter, but they were all busy. Finally looking to me, she added, ¡°Cassidy, would you mind running¡ªI mean¡­ walking very carefully and discreetly¡­ down to the suite we borrowed for the evening and picking up the gift. It should be in the living room beside the television.¡±


    I agreed quickly, taking the room key and heading to the elevator. From there, I headed for the penthouse suite that my parents had rented out to grab the gold-wrapped gift.


    Carefully managing the present with one hand, I went to open the door and began to step out when movement from the corner of my eye made me look that way. Men. There were men walking down the hall ahead of me, having just passed the room a few seconds earlier. Which wouldn¡¯t really be a big deal, except for the assault rifles they held. Yeah. Guns.


    There were armed guards at this event, of course. To say nothing of all the Star-Touched hanging around. But the armed guards weren¡¯t that obvious. They looked like Secret Service type people, not men in army camo carrying giant-ass automatic guns.


    No, this was obviously something different. Something bad. I quickly ducked back in the room and closed the door most of the way before they could spot me. Peeking out, I saw them heading for the elevator. They were met by a few more guys that were coming out of other rooms, and all of them headed up to the roof.


    Oh boy. Oh God, what was I supposed to do now? Quickly, I took my phone from my pocket, only to find it had no signal. That had to be purposeful, some kind of jammer or something. A check of the room phone produced no dial tone. Great. Just great. This was absolutely, definitely something bad. But what? What kind of crazy idiot would try to attack the place swarming with armed guards and heroes from every team in the city?


    Maybe it was just a stunt or something. Maybe I was overreacting. But the lack of a cell signal and dial tone told me I wasn¡¯t. I had to find out more, without getting caught.


    To that end, I headed for the closet where I had dropped my stuff when changing into my dress here. Digging deep in the backpack under the layer of other stuff I¡¯d use to cover it, I came out with the bag that had my costume in it. I¡¯d put it under some unmentionables, just in case.


    Taking a moment to slip the costume on after changing out of my dress, I made my way to the balcony, peeking out and around to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing nothing, I stepped out there before red painting myself up to the edge of the roof, clinging to the bottom edge of the balcony as I listened.


    A male voice was speaking. ¡°I¡¯d say let¡¯s not have anyone playing hero, but I think that¡¯s a moot point by now with the kind of company we¡¯ve got up here tonight, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Painting myself black, I hesitantly peeked up over the edge. Everyone was seated aside from the man who was speaking, and a dozen or so of those camo-dressed men with guns.


    As for the guy who was talking, I knew who he was. The sackcloth mask gave it away. Pencil. It was Pencil.


    That answered my question about who would be crazy enough to attack this place, at least. Seeing him made me shrink back a bit under the edge of the roof while he continued. ¡°But still, let¡¯s be smart here. No one wants a massacre, after all.¡± He paused before amending, ¡°Well, none of you want a massacre. Personally, I think we¡¯re kind of due.¡±


    Silversmith, or rather, whoever was posing as him, spoke up. ¡°You can¡¯t possibly think you¡¯re going to get away with anything here. What¡¯s your game?¡±


    I could hear the smile in Pencil¡¯s voice as he looked that way. ¡°My game? I¡¯m so glad you asked. The game, ladies and gentlemen, is very simple. Everyone here pretends they care oh so much about all the poor sick children in that hospital across the street that you¡¯re all donating to tonight. But let¡¯s see how much you actually care. See, they¡¯re being visited by a bunch of my friends right now as we speak. And unless you rich motherfuckers start giving until it literally hurts, well, let¡¯s just say there won¡¯t be any more kids to donate to. Which, for the record, is also what will happen if anyone here tries anything. So let¡¯s just keep it all in our pants.


    ¡°As for how much we need, we¡¯re trying to break records here tonight for most stolen in one event. And I hear there¡¯s some stiff competition, so dig deep people. Or don¡¯t. Personally, I¡¯m kind of curious to see if you can hear a few hundred sick kids being mowed down by machine guns all the way up here.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t experiments fun?¡±

 Alliances 6-05

    Oh God. Oh no. No, no, no. Please, no. This couldn¡¯t be happening. Hanging there from the ledge, I almost made a sound of disbelief, only to stop at the last second as the sound of footsteps on the roof nearby made me quickly jerk back down under the overhang. I heard the man above, probably one of the armed thugs, stop just over me. From the sound of things, he was leaning over to look down. But the overhang hid me just enough. Still, I used the black paint silencing power on my helmet to make sure I wouldn¡¯t make any sound. Just in case.


    My feet found purchase on the nearby decorative ledge so that I didn¡¯t have to hang the whole time, and I glanced down. The party on the grounds had been interrupted too. I could see soldier-types down there, keeping everyone herded together. There were a lot of cops and Star-Touched there as well, but also a lot of hostages. And they¡¯d probably been told about the children¡¯s hospital too. Even more problems. Even more hostages. All the powers and guns arranged in this place and no one could do anything because if they made a move, all those kids would die. Because Pencil and his people¡­ this wasn¡¯t an idle threat. He would do it.


    What was I supposed to do? What the hell was I supposed to do?! Yeah, they didn¡¯t know that I was here, but I wasn¡¯t exactly John God Damn McClane. Besides, the very second Pencil thought someone might be beating him here, he¡¯d just go ahead and kill all those kids.


    Kids. I had to save the kids, which meant getting over to the hospital. As soon as at least they were out of immediate danger, the people here could fight back. That was¡­ that had to be it. In any case, it was the only thing I could think of. Get to the hospital and save the kids.


    Of course, first I had to get there. Which meant going from where I was, aaaaaaaaaall the way across the street to the hospital without being seen by any of these guys who were probably very much on guard for any hero types that might try to interfere. Which should be¡­ fun.


    Perched there, I listened for sounds coming from above me while watching the ground far below intently. No one was looking up. Their attention was very much centered on the people pointing guns at them, in the case of the hostages, and on the hostages, in the case of the people pointing guns. They were all very thoroughly occupied. So that was a bonus, at least.


    As soon as I heard the guy standing above me turn and walk away, I restored the black paint to my helmet to make sure I was completely covered, before using a bit of blue paint against the ledge my feet were on to fling myself out into open air. Even as I began to plummet, my eyes snapped toward one of the rapidly approaching power lines. My hand extended, shooting off a bit of red paint toward the furthest utility pole I could hit. It was further down than I was, pulling me toward the ground even faster. But it was also clear out by the street, beyond the hotel grounds, so I was also yanked forward. By the time I was halfway to the ground, I¡¯d also almost reached the sidewalk. Cancelling the power, I shot another bit of red to a billboard across the street and yanked myself that way before dropping onto it and falling flat.


    I laid there, breathing hard while listening intently, just in case. Behind the mask and helmet, my mouth was moving rapidly as I prayed that I hadn¡¯t been seen. There hadn¡¯t been time to make absolutely sure while I was in mid-leap/fall. Not only was I sort of occupied at the time, but I also knew that I couldn¡¯t be slow about this. I couldn¡¯t be patient and methodical, because if I knew anything about Pencil¡¯s reputation, he was just as likely (if not more so) to kill all the children as soon as he had what he wanted instead of letting them go. If he even waited that long. He was incredibly unpredictable, and fully capable of murdering a bunch of kids. Sometimes he would follow his word, other times¡­ well, he wouldn¡¯t. There was no way to tell what he might do as soon as all those rich people up there gave him what he wanted.


    So, I had to get in that hospital and help those kids. That was all there was to it.


    Finally reasonably certain no one had seen me, I picked myself up a bit and crawled over to the edge of the billboard. Crouching there, I watched the hospital below. There were plenty of cars in the lot, but no one visible. No one, that was, aside from the guy by the doors holding a rifle. He wasn¡¯t looking at me, thank God. His attention was on the hotel across the street. A lookout, no doubt. If anything happened, he¡¯d probably contact the people inside. Then the slaughter would start. A slaughter that I couldn¡¯t let happen.


    But I had no idea if he was in constant contact with people, or what would happen if they called for him and he didn¡¯t answer. So, no taking him down. Not yet, anyway. I had to find out where the kids were and¡­ and¡­ do something. Do what, exactly, I didn¡¯t know. But¡­ something.


    Wait, my phone. Quickly, I checked to see if I could call for help. But there was still no signal. Either they were using a jammer of some kind over the whole block or neighborhood or whatever, or they¡¯d done something to the cell towers. Or¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure, exactly. The point was, there was still no way for me to text or call anyone. Which was juuuust fantastic.


    Then something bounced off my shoulder. At first I thought it was hail or something, but that wasn¡¯t it. Blinking down in time to see a small pebble laying there just before another bounced off my helmet, I quickly snapped my gaze around, searching¡­ there. Crouched on top of one of the nearby utility poles was That-A-Way. She waved, then disappeared, reappearing directly behind me. ¡°Hey,¡± she whispered. ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t want to pop up behind you without warning.¡±


    ¡°Uh, probably a good idea,¡± I whispered back. We probably didn¡¯t need to whisper, given how far away we were from the hospital. But still, it felt right. ¡°How¡¯d you get away?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you mean from up there?¡± She gestured back that way, reminding me that as far as she knew, I wasn¡¯t up on that roof. So I should probably stay vague about it. ¡°Yeah, I was sort of¡­ in the bathroom.¡± She made a face. ¡°I really wanted to tell you about some cool spy shit I did, but that was it. I was using the toilet when they showed up. I¨C wait.¡± She frowned then, looking to me. ¡°Are you¡­ uhh, do you know who¡¯s up there? What this is all about?¡±


    Luckily, I¡¯d spent the past few seconds quickly thinking up an explanation. ¡°I was watching the party from that building over there.¡± My hand waved in a vague direction. ¡°I saw Pencil show up and then dropped closer in time to hear¡­ umm, what he said about the kids in the hospital.¡±


    The other girl nodded. ¡°Right, so you¡¯re about as caught up as I am. And anyone else that knows anything about it is over there. Which means this is basically up to you and me.¡±


    ¡°What about Syndicate?¡± I pressed. ¡°He could just switch to a different body, right? I mean, make another version of himself solid or¡­ something. Wait, where are all his selves?¡±


    I could see her flinch. ¡°Yeah, about that¡­ one of him is on the roof, another is in the dining hall, and a third is down on the grounds. One at each of the three parties. The fourth one is at the Minority base. I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s rounding people up, but it¡¯ll still take time to get here.¡±


    ¡°Time we might not¨Cscratch that, definitely don¡¯t have,¡± I murmured. ¡°Fantastic.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Yup. Like I said, looks like it¡¯s you and me. Or¡­ me.¡± Her expression even behind that domino mask turned concerned. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to be¡­ if you don¡¯t want this kind of responsibility, I get it. I wouldn¡¯t want to¡­ I don¡¯t want to make you¡­ I¨Cthis is awkward.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± I insisted, swallowing back the sudden lump that had formed in my throat at the thought of what we were doing, what I was agreeing to. If we fucked this up, even just a little bit, a lot of innocent people would die. A lot of innocent children would die. This was even worse than Blackjack¡¯s daughter. The only thing that allowed me to push past the paralyzing terror of what would happen if I fucked up was the even greater terror of what would happen if I did nothing at all.


    I actually thought That-A-Way looked relieved when I said that, and realized she was probably just as scared about fucking up this whole thing as I was. Somehow, that made me feel better.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she murmured. ¡°So we have to get in there, deal with those guys, and free the hostages. Without letting them know what¡¯s going on. We can do that, right?¡±


    ¡°Uh, between the two of us, you¡¯re the professional hero,¡± I pointed out quietly after giving her a brief look. ¡°I¡¯m the amateur. You¡¯re the one who¡¯s supposed to reassure me.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Nodding, That-A-Way gave me a thumbs up. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. We¡¯ve got this.¡± Her head turned to look at the hospital once more. ¡°We start on the top floor and make our way down. Quickly, but carefully and methodically to make sure we¡¯re not leaving any problems behind us. We deal with the guys in there if we can, or identify the threats if they¡¯re beyond what we can handle, so the cavalry knows what they¡¯re dealing with and where the problems are. Good?¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I agreed, trying to sound like I wasn¡¯t about to pee myself. ¡°I guess you can teleport over there?¡± The hospital was north of the billboard where we were crouching.


    She nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll teleport us up to the top floor, far east end over there. That gives me the whole hallway to move west through with my speed to check to make sure we¡¯re clear.¡±


    That sounded like the best plan we were going to get. And honestly, I was mostly just glad that I wasn¡¯t by myself here. As scary as this whole thing felt like, at least I had an actual official member of the Minority with me. She had a lot more experience than I did. Which might help explain why I felt more comfortable with the blonde girl so quickly, even though this was only the second time I¡¯d ever even talked to her. And the first hadn¡¯t exactly been under calm conditions. It was kind of funny how quickly I felt at ease with her, given all that.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I started, giving a quick glance down to the guy in front of the hospital doors to make sure he hadn¡¯t noticed us. It was clear, so I focused on my suit. First, I cancelled the black paint so I could work from the base white. Then I started by making black outlines of the images I wanted, like line art, filling in the lines with the colors as I went.


    Over my chest, I made a knight with a raised shield and sword. The knight¡¯s chest armor and helmet were orange, with a purple sword and orange shield. His leg armor down into his boots was green. Meanwhile, the dragon he was facing was mostly black, with purple highlights, eyes, talons, and a burst of orange and yellow fire that came from its mouth. The wings were green. On my back, I painted the image of a pair of angel wings in green. My legs were green with lines of purple, while my shoes were blue. My arms were covered in what looked like really spiffy purple and green mixed flames, ending with red gloves. In all, it took about ten seconds.


    ¡°Please,¡± the girl beside me started flatly, ¡°tell me you did not just want to look good for this.¡±


    ¡°My paint can run out until I let it recharge,¡± I informed her. ¡°But if I set myself up ahead of time, I don¡¯t have to create as much as we go. The images are just to help me remember what I have and which to activate. Orange for protection, purple for strength, green for speed, and so on.¡±


    Considering that for a second before nodding acceptingly, she replied, ¡°Okay, just to be clear before we go in there, what else can you do? Orange makes a thing tough, purple makes it strong, green makes it fast¡­¡± She looked to me expectantly.


    ¡°Yellow makes them slow,¡± I continued for her. ¡°Blue like¡­ repels things, or makes them bounce. White makes a blinding flash, black silences things so they can¡¯t make any sound. Red pulls toward other red. And uhh¡­¡± Shifting as a rush of embarrassment came over me, I admitted, ¡°there¡¯s pink too, but I haven¡¯t figured out what it actually does.¡± How dumb was that? How many Touched just had random powers like that and had no idea what they did? I really needed to figure that out.


    ¡°Pink, huh?¡± The girl clearly considered before shaking her head. ¡°Probably not the best time to experiment. But good, because you really had me worried there when I thought you were getting ready for the cameras or something.¡± She winked at me. ¡°All good now?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°All good.¡± I even managed to make sure my voice didn¡¯t squeak too much from terror.


    Putting her hand on my shoulder, That-A-Way murmured, ¡°Okay, here we go. Be ready, just in case. We don¡¯t know who we might run into the second we appear.¡±


    Taking her words to heart, and once again silently thanking whatever power might be out there that I wasn¡¯t alone for this, I focused and tried to prepare myself to be teleported.


    I wasn¡¯t ready. It was still disorienting, suddenly finding myself crouching in a brightly lit corridor that smelled of antiseptic and ammonia. Between the sudden shift in location, the much brighter light, and that smell, I jerked backward and dry heaved, barely stopping myself from yacking.


    Thankfully, the bright side of all this was that we didn¡¯t teleport straight into any bad guys. The corridor looked empty. That-A-Way took the time to look at me just long enough to make sure I was okay before disappearing in a rush of motion. I saw the blur as she took off, checking each door in the hall within a couple seconds before stopping at the end.


    Right, she couldn¡¯t super speed back. West was speed. North was teleportation. East, back this way, was either invulnerability or intangibility. I couldn¡¯t remember which, and neither helped her get back here any faster. So, I picked myself up and quietly jogged that way. She¡¯d already checked all the doors and didn¡¯t find anything, apparently, so I didn¡¯t bother looking.


    Reaching the end of the hall where That-A-Way was, I looked to her expectantly. The two of us were now standing by a nurse¡¯s station. There was another hallway to the left (south), and elevators and a door that led to the stairwell to the right. Ahead was a blank wall.


    ¡°Nobody here,¡± she whispered. ¡°Better check that hall, but I haven¡¯t heard anything and I¡¯m pretty sure they can¡¯t keep a bunch of sick little kids that quiet. Unless¨C¡± In mid-sentence, she stopped talking and blanched. I felt my stomach turn over a bit, paling right alongside her.


    ¡°There¡¯s probably nobody there,¡± I made myself say. ¡°But we¡¯ll check.¡±


    So we did. Carefully and methodically despite everything in me screaming that we had to hurry, we checked that hall. It was clear. Which meant we had to go to the next floor. Which we did using the stairs rather than the elevator, for obvious reasons. Very quietly, we descended.


    Okay, this was getting unnerving. There was no one on that floor either. We didn¡¯t look in every single closet or anything, of course. There wasn¡¯t time for that. But we did a quick sweep and didn¡¯t find any groups of sick kids being held by armed thugs. Which would have been a good thing in any situation where we didn¡¯t already know they were there.


    Just as we were about to head down another floor, the ding of the elevator arriving made both of us jerk our heads that way for about¡­ an instant. The doors were opening. Then I felt That-A-Way grab my arm, and we were suddenly in one of the other rooms. A room to the north of where we had been standing, apparently. It was a small patient room, and I could see an empty bed with a small pink rabbit lying next to the pillow. It made my heart seize up, just before the sound of voices and footsteps reached us. That-A-Way and I glanced to each other before quickly dropping down behind the bed. The footsteps got closer, as did the voices.


    ¡°¨Csays we¡¯re really taking in the cash tonight. None of those rich fucks wanna be the one who¨C¡± The footsteps and voices had continued out of our earshot. But That-A-Way grabbed my arm, pulling me to the nearby wall to follow them. We were apparently going whichever direction it was that let her turn intangible, because we went right through it into the next room, then on through that wall, keeping pace with the Scions of Typhon as they continued.


    ¡°Stop worrying about how much money we¡¯re gonna get,¡± a new voice snapped. ¡°The mission comes first. And right now, the mission is to set up those bombs.¡±


    That made both of us look at each other once more, and I saw her mouth, ¡®Bombs?¡¯


    ¡°What about the kids downstairs?¡± a third, this time female, voice asked. ¡°Just gonna let ¡®em go up with the hospital when it blows?¡±


    ¡°Hell nah,¡± the second voice retorted, and I felt a very brief sense of relief before he went on. ¡°Pencil wants to make damn sure those shits are dead. No heroic rescues or saves. He¡¯s sending a message. We set those bombs to blow, then head back down.


    ¡°And right before we leave, we¡¯ll put those sick fuckstains out of everyone¡¯s misery.¡±

 Alliances 6-06

    That-A-Way and I were both staring at each other in shock for a second after that. I would¡¯ve covered my mouth, but the helmet was in the way. The other girl had a hand over hers, leaning closer to whisper, ¡°They¡¯re going to kill everyone down there. We have to hurry.¡±


    ¡°We have to be careful,¡± I whispered back. ¡°They¡¯re setting up those bombs. If we go after the kids first, it might alert these guys up here so they make this whole place go boom.¡±


    ¡°And if we go after these guys,¡± she pointed out while looking over to the corridor the way the guys had gone, ¡°their friends downstairs might hear something and start killing the kids anyway.¡±


    I hesitated, heart pounding its way out of my chest. What was I doing? This was stupid. I was stupid. Why was I here? I was just going to end up getting a bunch of innocent kids¨C


    No. Stop. Stop thinking like that. I was here because I could be here. Because they¡¯d die if we weren¡¯t. Without That-A-Way and me here, the kids would die either way. We had to do something, because if we didn¡¯t¡­ yeah. Terrifying as it was, we had to do something.


    Shaking off all those thoughts, I forced myself to focus, whispering, ¡°We¡­ what should we¡­¡±


    ¡°These guys,¡± the other girl announced firmly. ¡°We should deal with these guys¡­ quietly. It won¡¯t mean anything if we save those kids downstairs just in time to be blown up. If we stop these guys without alerting the people downstairs, we might be able to actually pull this off.¡± She was clearly doing her best to sound confident about that.


    I nodded once, keeping my voice low. ¡°So how do we do that?¡±


    Looking a bit relieved that I was going along with it, That-A-Way turned. ¡°First, let¡¯s catch up with them and figure out what to do from there after we see what we¡¯re dealing with. Just¡­ remember, we¡¯ve gotta make sure they don¡¯t alert the people downstairs.¡± She was grimacing at the thought of what would happen otherwise.


    So, the two of us quickly, yet silently (with the help of some black paint in conjunction with That-A-Way¡¯s intangibility), worked our way back through all the rooms to catch up with the bad guys. They had stopped at one of the nurse stations. As the two of us peeked out of the nearest room, we actually saw them for the first time, and I let out a very low breath.


    Two of the Scion people were ordinary thugs. Those were the ones dragging some kind of electrical wire from an outlet under the nurse¡¯s desk out to the main hall. So they were normal guys. Well, one girl and one guy. Still, simple enough. Which was a thought that actually made me stop for a second to shake my head over. Dealing with armed psychopaths trying to arm a bomb to destroy a hospital so they could get back to murdering sick kids was simple? What happened to my life?


    Unfortunately, the other guy, clearly supervising them, was a Fell-Touched. I recognized him immediately. It would have been pretty hard not to. His name was Fork, and he was basically an anthropomorphic porcupine. He stood about five-foot-eight, with a visibly rodent-like face, very fine gray-black fur, and long, sharp dagger quills sticking out of his back from the top of his head all the way down to his waist. At any point, he could shoot those quills out (they grew back quickly) and mentally direct them to attack people. If I remembered right, the quills could also explode. For obvious reasons, he didn¡¯t really tend to bother with any kind of costume. More likely, he had some way of disguising himself when he didn¡¯t want attention.


    Either way, he was the problem that we had to deal with. And he wasn¡¯t going to go down as easily as his two minions would. Which was going to be an issue. One we had to figure out very quickly, because I didn¡¯t think it was going to take these guys long to set up that bomb.


    After staring at that group for a couple seconds that felt like longer, That-A-Way pulled me back by the sleeve so we were out of sight. Crouching there, she put her face very close to my helmet and whispered almost silently, ¡°How long can your black paint make things quiet?¡±


    Instead of responding verbally, I pointed at the floor and shot a bit of black paint out to make the words, ¡®About ten secs¡¯ appear. It was easier than trying to talk and risking being noticed.


    She nodded and whispered again. ¡°I have speed going straight at them. If you can paint them and keep them quiet for that long, I think we can handle them together. Don¡¯t forget that radio they¡¯ve got sitting on the desk, just in case.¡± With what was clearly meant to be an encouraging smile, she put her hand on my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be okay. You ready for this?¡±


    Again, I didn¡¯t respond verbally. Instead, I gave her a somewhat shaky thumbs up. Honestly, I had no idea if I was ready for this. But that didn¡¯t actually matter. Those kids did. We had to save them. That was all there was to it. We would save the kids, no matter how scared I was.


    That-A-Way offered me a slight smile, and I honestly wasn¡¯t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that I could tell she was probably almost as scared as I was about fucking this up. Together, the two of us moved back to the doorway. Fork was there, supervising (which in this case meant bitching angrily about how slow they were moving) the two guys as he stood with his back to us. Normally that would be a good thing, but in this case it just meant that those dangerous quills of his were aimed directly at us. This was going to be fun, I could already tell.


    Putting a hand out onto That-A-Way¡¯s arm, I painted a long green stripe from her shoulder to her wrist. Next to that, I placed an orange stripe, then a purple one. Speed (to add onto the speed she would already have), toughness, and strength. That done, I made sure she noticed what I was doing before silently holding up three fingers, two fingers, one¡­


    As my last finger went down, my other hand quickly snapped up. With a silent prayer that this didn¡¯t go wrong, I shot a spray of black paint all across the group including the radio on the counter, activating both that and all the paint on the girl beside me even as all three of them were taken by surprise, abruptly jerking (silently) when the paint sprayed its way over them.


    That-A-Way blew right past me, a blur of motion that ducked under the four quills that had already shot out of Fork¡¯s back. The quills were coming my way, probably by accident more than anything given he hadn¡¯t turned around yet, and I quickly dove forward and down to let them pass over me into the room behind. By that point, the other girl had slammed into the first of the two normal thugs, the guy. With the added strength I had given her, she picked him up, turned, and threw him into the nearby wall. The female Scion started to react, but That-A-Way had a pair of cuffs on her just before she could do anything, which activated instantly and yanked her to the floor.


    She turned to face Fork then, who had recovered enough from his surprise to make a half dozen more quills pop out to hover around him. From the way he paused and his body language, I was pretty sure he was trying to say something. But the black paint hadn¡¯t worn off. Instead, he just made a forward gesture with one hand, sending those quills at the girl. I went to scramble to my feet to help, but at the last instant, I heard a whistling sound and ducked in time to barely (mostly) avoid the return of the quills that had gone back into the other room. One of them cut my arm, drawing a slight bit of blood despite the costume. It also clearly warned the guy I was there, because the quills that just passed me spun around in the air to face me once more.


    Meanwhile, between the orange paint and the fact that I was pretty sure her invulnerability had activated given she was now facing the opposite way from her superspeed (I was getting the hang of keeping track of which direction created which power), the four quills that had shot toward That-A-Way did nothing to her, even when they exploded. And in another bit of good news, it seemed that the silencing effect of the black paint even applied to body parts (or other things) that were sent away from the original target, because of the explosions made no sound.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    But that was probably about to wear off, and I still had these quills to deal with. I saw Fork glance very quickly over his shoulder as though judging where I was before sending them at me like a trio of very angry, very large wasps. Wasps that would explode, so¡­ worse.


    Before they could hit me, I activated the green angel wings on my back to speed myself up. Then I raised one hand and lowered the other, shooting red paint from both. At the same time, I also activated the blue paint that was already on my shoes. It hurled me up toward the ceiling, which I planted my feet against after flipping over in the air. Below me, the flying quills (now painted red from my hasty spray) were just about to adjust to come up after me, when I activated the paint both on them and on the floor. All three were yanked at the ground an instant before they exploded. Again, silently.


    Unfortunately, that silently part didn¡¯t last, because I heard Fork suddenly blurt, ¡°¡ªin your ass with a drill!¡± Which, looking beyond the obvious horrible things brought on by a comment like that, also meant that the paint had worn off. Which was just fantastic, really.


    By that point, I had fallen back to the floor, landing on my hands and knees. Just as Fork realized that he wasn¡¯t muted anymore and made a dive for the radio, I hit him with another shot of black paint. At the same time, That-A-Way crashed into him. Except the paint on her had worn off too, so she mostly just bounced off. She was still invulnerable thanks to her positioning, which came in handy as the guy backhanded her (or tried to) and ended up silently cursing as his hand bounced off like a bat hitting a wall.


    His other hand was still trying to grab the radio, but I used red paint to yank it away and to my already-red glove before tossing it aside. A second later, I had to throw myself right after it, as another trio of explosive quills shot toward me. I leapt to avoid one, diving over the nearby janitor¡¯s cart just as another crashed into it. Both exploded safely away from me, scattering debris and tools from the cart across the floor.


    Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t quite fast enough to avoid the third. Just as I rolled on the floor, a sudden sharp stabbing sensation in the back of my leg made me yelp. Reflexively, I triggered both the orange shield and green leg armor my knight-image had. Sped up, I snatched the quill out just as it exploded in my hand. Ouch. Yeah, even with the orange paint, it still stung. If it had been left in my leg when it went off, I really didn¡¯t want to think about what would¡¯ve happened.


    On the plus side, That-A-Way was keeping the guy busy while I got myself sorted out so he couldn¡¯t take advantage of me being on the floor. On the negative side, he seemed to have gotten the idea of her power (or maybe they had briefings about that kind of thing, I wasn¡¯t sure what the Scions of Typhon did/how much they prepared). Either way, he suddenly grabbed her around both shoulders and spun to put her on the other side of him. Now her invulnerability didn¡¯t apply. Her super speed had kicked back in, but before she could take advantage of that, he put a fist into her face that knocked her to the ground with a cry. I could see another pair of cuffs on the ground nearby where they had fallen when Fork apparently knocked them from That-A-Way¡¯s hands rather than let her cuff him. Because he was inconsiderate like that.


    Adding to the bad things list: when I scrambled to my feet, a sharp pain from the (bleeding) wound in my leg made me stagger with a yelp, and the guy who had been thrown into the wall was slowly picking himself up. Oh, and he was yanking his gun out in the process. Yeah, this whole thing was going just swimmingly. What the hell were we thinking?


    Thankfully, That-A-Way noticed the guy too, and he happened to be to the right of her, which put him to the north as she was facing west for her speed. And north meant she could teleport, which she did, appearing beside the guy in time to yank the gun from his hand while her other hand produced that taser of hers, which she jammed into his neck until he collapsed.


    Moving north the way she had meant that Fork was to the south of her. So, as she turned to face both him and the half dozen explosive quills he shot at her, That-A-Way was intangible. The quills shot right through her to hit the wall beyond, just above where the other guy fell. They exploded, not that that did any damage to her either. It did, however, rain debris from the wall down on the collapsed guy. And the explosions may have hurt him too, I couldn¡¯t tell from there.


    My leg (and hand, from the explosion) still hurt, and the second round of silencing paint was about to run out. Plus, I suddenly had another trio of explosive quills shooting at me, courtesy of the jackass himself. With a grunt, I activated both the green and purple lines on my legs and threw myself forward. Sprinting toward the incoming dart-like quills, I dove at the last second. Sped-up by the green paint, I was able to go just under the incoming darts. In mid-dive, I shot red paint from both outstretched hands. One spray hit Fork in the leg, while the other hit a nearby heavy bench meant for people to wait on. As I rolled from the dive, the paint activated and the bench went flying across the room to crash into the man from the side. He went down hard with the bench technically under him, still attached to his legs. The heavy bench was on its side, leaving Fork unable to get his feet under himself very easily.


    But he wasn¡¯t done yet, of course. The guy was already getting ready to shoot more quills. I was pretty much done with that nonsense, however. The green paint was still active, carrying me all the way out of my dive and back to my feet to reach the man. And the purple paint meant that when I punched him an instant later, he really felt it. Hell, I felt it. His rodent-like head jerked backward as he yelped out loud, but I didn¡¯t care. I hit him again, and again, just to make sure he didn¡¯t shoot any more God damn explosive quills at us.


    That-A-Way pulled me back. ¡°Whoa, whoa, I think you got him,¡± she informed me. ¡°Grab those cuffs, would you?¡± She gestured to the ones on the floor. Nearby, I could see the woman who had been cuffed when all this started. She was unconscious, apparently a target of the taser still crackling in the other girl¡¯s hand.


    I grabbed the loose cuffs, handing them over. She took them, attaching the cuffs to Fork while he still lay there with a black eye and bloody nose. He was groaning a little, clearly dazed but not quite totally unconscious.


    ¡°What about his quills?¡± I asked, a bit tensely. He might¡¯ve been held in place by the cuffs, but his main weapons weren¡¯t, and they hurt.


    ¡°Got an idea for that,¡± she assured me. ¡°Quick, help me get him up and over there.¡±


    Together, the two of us hauled the dazed man up, rushing him over toward a nearby supply closet. We basically dumped him inside. By that point, his eyes had started to focus, and when his mouth opened, I saw a few missing teeth from where I had hit him.


    Before he could shout or anything, That-A-Way grabbed a nearby roll of duct tape and wrapped it around his snout-like mouth. Then she held her taser up to his face and made it crackle. ¡°Hey, hey! Look.¡± Her hand moved to grab his face, and she turned it to show him all the cleaning supplies stacked up on the nearby shelf. ¡°Paintball and I, we¡¯re gonna leave you in here with the door shut. You could try using your quills to blow your way out, but A: those cuffs still won¡¯t let you go anywhere, and B: you could blow open those chemicals, and who knows what would happen? We¡¯ll leave a few bottles right by the door too, just in case. You understand?¡±


    Glaring hatefully, he gave a nod and grunt.


    ¡°Good.¡± That-A-Way straightened, then pulled off another strip of duct tape. ¡°And in case you get any ideas, we¡¯ll just blind you too. Stay here, don¡¯t move, don¡¯t throw any explosive quills around, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± She finished putting the tape over his eyes, doubling it before stepping back. ¡°There we go.¡±


    True to her word, we grabbed a few bottles of cleaner and put them down by the door as well as around the small space, so he wouldn¡¯t know where he could safely send any quills. That was the best we could do to keep him quiet and contained. Two regular guys down, along with one Fell-Touched. And the bomb hadn¡¯t gone off. Bonus.


    ¡°You think we¡¯re okay?¡± I asked tentatively while stepping away from the closed storage closet holding Fork.


    ¡°Okay?¡± she retorted. ¡°Between the two of us, dude, I think we¡¯re¨C¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re fucking dead, that¡¯s what I think!¡± The voice came from the left side, and we both spun that way in time to see another of the Prev (non-Touched) Scions with a shotgun. He was already taking aim, already¡­


    Already falling to the floor, as something that glistened in the air behind him swung hard. The man collapsed, hitting the ground while the shimmering thing¡­ the very familiar shimmering thing, stepped over him and decloaked, revealing¡­


    ¡°Twinkletoes!¡± I blurted despite myself.


    ¡°Hey there,¡± Pack, stepping around her Chameleon-Gorilla, casually waved. ¡°Heard there was a party going on.


    ¡°And you know how me and my buddies hate to miss a party.¡±

 Alliances 6-07

    That-A-Way spoke without looking at me, her focus and her taser pointed toward Pack. ¡°Paints, why is this bad guy talking to you like you guys are friends?¡±


    Pack, for her part, put a hand on Twinkletoes¡¯ arm. ¡°Paintball, how about you tell Captain Hero that we have bigger problems to deal with right now?¡±


    Quickly, I spoke up while stepping between them, flinching a bit as the slight pain from the part of my leg where the quill had hit me made itself known. ¡°Stop it, both of you. Way, she¡¯s right, there¡¯s higher priorities right now, like saving those kids. She might be a criminal, but there¡¯s a difference between her kind of criminal and the Scions¡¯ kind. She steals shit, she doesn¡¯t kill kids. Keep it in perspective.¡±


    There was a brief pause before That-A-Way gave a short nod and lowered her weapon. ¡°Right, I guess you¡¯ve got a point. Big difference between her and those guys. But I still have a lot of questions¡­ which can wait until this is over, except for one. Why are you here?¡±


    Pack¡¯s head turned fractionally as though she was glancing to me before answering. ¡°Short version, my friends and I were watching the party from another roof. We saw what went down and then saw your boy over there heading out. Took us a while to catch up without bringing down World War Three on our heads. Had to be all sneaky like, but figured wherever he was going, there¡¯d be trouble and he might need help. You know, because he has a tendency to find trouble.¡±


    The other girl glanced toward me while I was trying to decide if I should be offended or not. Her head gave a short nod. ¡°I guess he does. I don¡¯t know if we can really trust you that far or not, but he¡¯s right about there being a difference between La Casa and the Scions. And we¡¯re really short on help right now, so¡­ truce until this is over?¡±


    Pack gave a short nod. ¡°Sure, truce until this is over.¡±


    Exhaling in a bit of relief, though I knew I¡¯d have a lot to talk about if we made it through this, I asked, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you couldn¡¯t contact anybody either?¡°


    ¡°Nope,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Phone and radio are both out. Looks like we¡¯re on our own, for the time being.¡± Her chin lifted it to indicate the guys we had taken down. ¡°Not that that seems to be slowing you too much.¡±


    That-A-Way still looked like she was uncomfortable and uncertain about this whole situation, but pushed past it. Tersely and quickly, she explained everything we knew, ending with, ¡°So these guys weren¡¯t able to finish setting up the bomb, but the ones downstairs are gonna be expecting them back any minute to¡­ deal with the hostages. And if they think for a second that something happened¡­¡±


    Pack¡¯s body kind of recoiled a little. ¡°They¡¯ll do the job themselves to make sure it gets done. Yeah, that¡¯d be bad. So, we¡¯ve got to go down and deal with them before they decide to start shooting. Got it.¡±


    While they were talking, I had walked around a bit to work out the pain in my leg. It wasn¡¯t too bad to begin with, but still. Pacing a bit, I¡¯d gone over to the area those guys had been dragging the electrical cords to. Following it around a corner, I looked in a small nearby room before gulping at what I saw. ¡°Guys¡­ I found the bomb.¡±


    It was a huge, complicated looking thing, taking up most of the room with half a dozen barrels of something or another all attached via cords to a laptop-looking device set into an open briefcase. The screen on the computer was asking for two different passwords, along with some technical jargon I couldn¡¯t follow.


    Boy, I wished Eits was here. Even if this thing was protected the way he said Tech-Touched stuff tended to be, he¡¯d still have a better chance of doing something with it than any of us did.


    The other two had joined me by then, both making noises that clearly indicated they didn¡¯t like it anymore than I did. Pack shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t even want to go in the room with that thing, let alone touch it. That¡¯s some bad juju.¡±


    The three of us collectively backed away from the room, and I asked, ¡°What if someone comes to find it and we miss them? Can we do anything to make sure they don¡¯t set it off?¡±


    That-A-Way grimaced, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m okay with computers, but nothing like that. I wouldn¡¯t know what wire to pull, whether it would do any good, or just make it blow up right now.¡±


    Pack muttered, ¡°We¡¯ve covered some basic bomb defusal stuff in the La Casa school of villainy, but nothing like this.¡± She turned then, adding, ¡°On the other hand, we can at least leave someone to watch over it. Holiday!¡±


    Around the corner came her panther-lizard, stopping in front of the suddenly very still That-A-Way to lean up and purr while rubbing against her briefly. There was a slight, tense pause before the girl reached down to gingerly pat the top of the animal¡¯s head.


    ¡°See that?¡± Pack announced, ¡°we¡¯re all friends. Holiday, stay right here. See that room? No one goes in there but us, got it? You don¡¯t let anybody go in there unless I say.¡±


    Holiday seemed to get the idea, making a loud growling sound before moving to curl up in front of the door where she could watch the approaches from both sides.


    ¡°We¨Cum, are you sure she¡­¡± That-A-Way started, sounding hesitant.


    ¡°She gets it,¡± Pack informed her. ¡°Trust¨Cokay, maybe trust me is the wrong thing to say. But I¡¯m telling you, she¡¯ll stay here and do her job.¡±


    The other girl fidgeted briefly, glancing to the animal. But there wasn¡¯t much else to be said, considering we didn¡¯t have a choice. It was leave Holiday here or leave one of us here, and that just couldn¡¯t happen. There weren¡¯t enough of us. So, in the end, she just nodded, with a quiet, ¡°Okay.¡±


    That done, the three of us moved back to the main nurses station. Twinkletoes was still waiting there, and had been joined by Mars Bar the bear and Tuesday the monkey. Riddles glided in as we approached, landing on the desk before giving a soft squawk.


    That-A-Way took a moment to look around at this menagerie. I could tell she was really thinking about the situation she had gotten into. But if she had any doubts, she shoved them down, clearing her throat. ¡°Okay, so between¡­ us, we¡¯ve got to save those hostages downstairs before the Scions start getting nasty. Err, even more nasty. And we have no idea how many are down there, or exactly where they are, does that about sum it up?¡±


    Pack raised a hand. ¡°I dunno how many might be wandering around, but there¡¯s twelve guys in the room with your hostages, and they¡¯re in the main cafeteria on the first floor.¡± As we stared at her, she explained, ¡°I had Twinkles check it out before we made it up here, and he tapped out the numbers for me. Figured it might be useful.¡±


    That-A-Way looked genuinely impressed, quickly nodding with a smile before she clamped down on it. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s pretty coo¨CI mean¡­ right, okay, thanks. Well, twelve guys. Not sure how many are Prevs and how many are Touched, but still useful.¡± To me, she added, ¡°Think we can handle twelve guys without ending up with a bunch of dead people?¡±


    ¡°Between the¡­¡± I glanced over toward Riddles, Mars Bar, Tuesday, and Twinkletoes. ¡°¡­ seven of us, I hope so.¡±


    Pack put out her arm, letting Tuesday clamber up to hang off her shoulders. ¡°We just need a plan. Preferably a quick and brilliant one.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed. ¡°A plan that won¡¯t end up getting everyone killed or the hospital blown up. And it might not be brilliant or anything, but¡­ I think I have something. We just need Fork¡¯s help.¡±


    They both stared at me for a moment. Actually, I was pretty sure the lizard-creatures were staring at me too. That-A-Way found her voice first. ¡°In what possible reality would that psychopath ever actually help us stop his friends from killing everyone here?¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Behind the mask and helmet, I smiled despite the situation. ¡°Oh, we just need to find the right things to say to him.


    ¡°Or rather, the right things to make him say.¡±


    *******


    Two guys stood guard by the doorway leading into the cafeteria. Both were armed with submachine guns, and were very much on alert. So much so, that they jerked upright and pointed their weapons toward the figure who came into view around the distant corner, only easing up slightly when they recognized him as Fork.


    ¡°Hey, cocksuckers!¡± the porcupine-like figure called out while raising a hand to beckon them. ¡°Get over here!¡±


    The two looked to each other, shrugged, and then came at a trot. One of them asked, ¡°The hell¡¯s going on? Erica have trouble hooking up the big boom?¡± He laughed darkly then. ¡°Told the boss we should¡¯ve brought Bass in for this. He was always better at the¨Cwhat the fuck?¡±


    Yeah, by that point, the two men had gotten close enough to see that Fork wasn¡¯t exactly there of his own volition. His eyes were closed, his unconscious body held in place by the mostly-invisible figure of Twinkletoes, who had also been the one to puppet his arm, making it wave for them. Meanwhile, his voice had actually come from my phone, taped to his chest after I had recorded him upstairs ranting at us for awhile until we had the words we wanted him to say. It actually hadn¡¯t been that hard, given how much he¡¯d ranted without much prompting before we finally knocked him out. Or rather, Tuesday had. Turned out, that little monkey-lizard packed a pretty good right hook.


    Before the men could react to what they saw, I stepped out and hit both of them with a sound-muting shot of black paint. Their mouths opened to shout, even as they brought those guns of theirs up. But I wasn¡¯t alone. That-A-Way appeared behind them, shoving her taser into the man on the left. The one on the right had his weapon torn away by a diving Riddles, just before Pack put herself in front of him with that sawed-off shotgun pointed into his face.


    He surrendered, and we quickly taped both of those guys up.


    Then the others shoved them into a side-room while I stood watch, making sure none of the guys in the cafeteria came to see what was going on.


    Right, two down, ten to go. Ten that we knew of, anyway. Unfortunately, they probably wouldn¡¯t be nearly as easy, considering the whole hostage thing. We were going to have to be really careful about this.


    So it was a good thing that we had a plan. The first part of which was to see what was going on in there. To that end, I quickly and quietly made my way across the open lobby, looking around with mounting paranoia as I went before finally stopping by the doors. Carefully, I chanced a quick peek inside, through the crack in the doors. No one was in immediate view, just circular tables with chairs stacked on top of them. Taking another breath, I slowly opened the door just enough to see better.


    There they were. Dozens of children and early teens of various ages, some lying motionless on gurneys while others were on chairs, the floor, or simply standing. There were half a dozen nurses and a couple doctors as well, all of them together in the far corner of the cafeteria. Spread through the room were about eight normal Scion thugs, all of them armed similarly to the guys we had just taken down.


    And there was a Fell-Touched. Near the hostages stood a somewhat short man, just five-foot seven or so. He was fairly thin too, a wiry build. His ¡®costume¡¯ consisted of gray jeans quite thoroughly splattered with blood stains, a dark green sweatshirt with the hood up, and a black cloth mask that covered the bottom half of his face, with what looked like sunglasses over his eyes.


    He was called Box. Basically, he could create these small orbs in his hands. When he threw them, the orbs would break apart upon impact with something, only to be replaced by earth, fire, air, or water in a shape and size (from smaller than the orb had been all the way up to something the size of a car) determined when he made the orbs. So he could throw an orb and have it break apart to create a ten-foot long boulder, or a wading-pool sized rush of water, or¡­ whatever.


    I didn¡¯t see anyone else as I crouched there and watched for a few seconds. By then, the others were approaching. They had found what we needed, an empty gurney. Quickly, I took one last look to make sure things looked as calm as they could be in there, then climbed onto it. I laid down, tucking my legs up under me to leave room for That-A-Way, who put herself right there, her head resting against my legs.


    Pack put the sheet over us, arranging it a bit before whispering, ¡°Okay, you¡¯re good. Ready?¡±


    That-A-Way and I murmured agreement, and the next thing I knew, we were moving. I lifted the sheet a bit to peek out, seeing Fork there. But like before, he was still unconscious, with the mostly-invisible Twinkletoes holding onto his arms to keep his hands apparently on the gurney so that it would look like he was pushing it. The doors opened, and I carefully held my phone (which I had taken back) out so I could see the screen, listening intently.


    ¡°Yo!¡± someone¡¯s voice called out. ¡°Whatcha got there? Found a straggler?¡±


    Quickly, my finger tapped one of the recordings on the screen. From the phone came Fork¡¯s voice. ¡°Gonna be sorry¨C¡± Then I stopped it before he could finish saying ¡®you fucked with us.¡¯ My finger hit a different recording, making his voice add, ¡°Stupid cocksucker.¡±


    Twinkletoes, holding Fork, pushed us all the way over to where the hostages were, trying to not-so-obviously steer away from anyone who might be close enough to see that their teammate was unconscious. On the way, one of the other guys called out, ¡°What¡¯s going on with the bomb? We good?¡±


    I¡¯d been expecting someone to ask something like that, so my finger was already poised to hit another button. I did so quickly, and Fork¡¯s voice replied, ¡°Fucking fantastic, bitch.¡±


    We reached the spot where the hostages were. I felt That-A-Way¡¯s hand squeeze my leg once, a question. I put my hand down against hers and squeezed once in return, telling her to wait. We were good so far. Just had to hold on a few more seconds without¡­


    ¡°Hey,¡± a suddenly close voice blurted, ¡°what the hell is going on?¡±


    Shit. The next thing I knew, the man was crying out as Twinkletoes grabbed and threw him across the room. So much for taking our time. The jig was up.


    Throwing myself off the gurney along with the sheet, I hit the floor in a crouch, taking in what was happening. All those guys were looking at us incredulously, including the hostages. As the two nearest men reacted by snapping their guns up, I shot a wave of red paint to them and to the ceiling, hauling them up toward it with a pair of screams.


    ¡°Now, boys,¡± I blurted reflexively, ¡°I know healthcare costs suck, but is taking a bunch of pediatricians hostage until they fix your ouchie really the answer?¡±


    They were all focused on me. Well, me and Twinkletoes, who had just grabbed the now-empty gurney (That-A-Way had slipped off of it) to throw at Box, who hit it with an orb that turned to stone in order to stop the thing in mid-flight. Their attention on the two of us meant they were taken by surprise yet again when Pack stepped through the doorway on the other side of the room, opening up with two quick blasts from her shotgun (she¡¯d assured That-A-Way and me that it was filled with beanbag rounds) that took the two guys nearest to her in the chests, putting them on the ground with a series of wheezing coughs.


    Mars Bar, Tuesday, and Riddles were right there with her, all of the lizard-creatures spreading out to attack the Scion creeps, who were suddenly caught on both sides. I saw Box wind up to throw another orb, just before the bearguana slammed into him. Unfortunately, he managed to break the orb, summoning a short, powerful gust of wind that threw Mars Bar to the side.


    Quickly using more shots of red paint against the tables and a few of the other guys, I sent those tables colliding into them just before they could open fire. But there were still more, and Box was getting up.


    ¡°You got ¡®em?!¡± I called over my shoulder, not wanting to throw myself fully into what was turning into a tornado of violence just yet. Not until I knew the hostages were safe.


    ¡°Good!¡± That-A-Way¡¯s voice snapped back. ¡°Everyone hold on!¡±


    When I chanced a quick look that way, she was standing right in the middle of the hostages. In those few seconds, she¡¯d gotten all the conscious and mobile staff and kids to gather around her, grabbing some part of her body or one another. Others were holding the various bed-bound patients, forming one large group.


    ¡°Okay, guys,¡± That-A-Way started with a grimace as she glanced toward the nearby window. The north-facing window. ¡°If I pass out, someone catch me.¡±


    Then they were gone. That-A-Way and all the hostages. They disappeared as she teleported them out of the building. They were safe¡­ well, safer than they had been in here anyway. Which meant we could actually fight without worrying about getting them caught in the crossfire.


    Unfortunately, just as I spun back to the chaos to do that, I found myself almost face-to-face with another Fell-Touched. She wore a white cloak, bodysuit, and mask covering the bottom half of her face. Her gaze met mine, and I knew her.


    Cup. I knew her, and I knew I had to¨C


    ¡°What would a genie do if you said, ¡®I wish you wouldn¡¯t grant this wish?¡¯¡±


    What¡­ would a genie do¡­ what¡­ why would¡­ but if you wished for them not to grant a wish¡­ why wouldn¡¯t¡­ could they¡­ what if¡­


    Standing there, I frowned, trying to work my way through the question. I knew this. I could answer this. I just needed a second. I didn¡¯t care about the fight going on. I didn¡¯t care that we had just rescued the hostages, or that there was still a bomb in the building.


    And I didn¡¯t care that Cup was raising a pistol, taking careful aim.

 Alliances 6-08

    A riddle almost killed me. And, ironically, a riddle also saved me. Or rather, Riddles.


    Yeah, the lizard-bird came flying out of nowhere, slamming right into Cup¡¯s face and clawing at her with a deafening screech. The impact knocked backwards, throwing off her aim just enough so that the bullet, as she pulled the trigger, went flying a few inches to the right of my head. It passed through the wall, leaving a neat hole there. Which was a hell of a lot better than the neat hole it would¡¯ve left in my head.


    Even then, it took a couple seconds for the question she¡¯d asked to stop commanding all of my attention. I finally physically jerked as my mind came back to the actual situation in time to see Riddles beating her wings against Cup¡¯s face just as her beak bit down hard on the girl¡¯s hand, drawing a shriek of surprise and pain from her.


    Realizing just how close I¡¯d come to death in that instant, I almost fell to my knees and sobbed. Actually, pretty much the only thing that stopped me from doing just that (and probably curling up into a ball for awhile) was the sight of Cup¡¯s other hand reaching up to grab the lizard-bird by the neck. Quickly, I shot a bit of red paint out to Riddles¡¯ back, yanking her to my raised arm, where she clung tightly. ¡°Hey buddy,¡± I started while taking two steps forward, painting my arm purple.¡±Thanks for the¨C¡± My fist lashed out, punching Cup in the face while she was still recovering. ¡°¨Cassist!¡±


    It may have looked like cloth, but that mask around the bottom half of Cup¡¯s face had to be armored in some way, because it didn¡¯t give nearly as much as it should have considering the force I was punching her with. It felt like hitting a pretty solid wall. Which made sense, considering how many people probably tried shooting her in the face for everything she was responsible for. Still, she was knocked to the floor with a new cry of pain, and I saw blood. Two bits of blood, actually. One from her nose and another on her hand where Riddles bit her. Even better, the gun went sliding across the floor away from her, ending up under a pile of overturned chairs.


    On the far side of the room, I could see Pack and the rest of her menagerie (apart from Holiday, who was still upstairs) busy trying to deal with Box and the remaining Scion troops who weren¡¯t already down. Pack was favoring one arm, holding it cradled to her side while directing Mars Bar and Twinkletoes, who were doing the majority of the damage. Tuesday kept popping in from the sides to hit the troops while they were trying to focus on the obvious threats. Even as I glanced that way, I could see him rip a good chunk of flesh out of one man¡¯s arm with his teeth, sending him to the ground with a scream of agony. Good. He tried to blow up sick little kids.


    Cup had scrambled up to her knees by then, and was starting to say something. She was cut off, however, as my quick shot of black paint hit the psycho bitch right in her chest, instantly muting any sound. ¡°Yeah,¡± I snapped, ¡°I think I¡¯ve heard just about enough out of you, thanks.¡±


    Then there was a new problem. The gun that Cup had been holding was gone, yes. It was still somewhere under that pile of chairs. Unfortunately, as it turned out, that wasn¡¯t the only gun she was carrying. I know, right? Psycho evil cult supervillains, who expects them to carry two guns?


    Yeah, I might still need some experience with this. Either way, she produced that second gun. And while she couldn¡¯t actually talk, her eyes, burning with hatred as she brought it into line with me, screamed everything that needed to be said. She was going to kill me, and enjoy doing it.


    Or, well, try. Because even as she pulled that trigger, I had already activated the orange circles along the sides of my torso that I¡¯d put there before we came in this room. The first bullet simply bounced off my chest. It stung pretty bad, and would definitely leave a bit of a welt. But that was all. The subsequent two shots that she fired off quickly also stung, drawing a gasp from me. Then I was there, painting my arm purple once more as I tore the pistol from her grip. My other hand caught hold of her arm, and jerked her up and over. With a grunt, I deliberately twisted that arm until I felt something break. Just like when I¡¯d hit her mask, it took a lot more force than it should¡¯ve. Her costume was definitely armored. But not enough to stop me from snapping at least something, before I threw her face-first into the nearby wall. She collided hard with it and fell, sprawling out on the floor where she lay still, visibly breathing but not doing much else.


    Just to be on the safe side, I shot another bit of black paint to keep her silent. Gliding over my head, Riddles made a screeching noise at her fallen form.


    By the time it was clear that she was staying down, I was already spinning to run and help Pack. Unfortunately, as I did so, my feet went out from under me, and I ended up sprawling across the ground with a yelp.


    ¡°Hey, asshole,¡± a new voice snapped, and I looked that way from my fallen position to see another figure approaching. He wore a parody of a superhero costume. It was basically red footie pajamas (which was a real bold fashion choice) with a white, hand-drawn image of a tiny fish on the chest. A blue blanket of some kind was attached to the shoulders like a child¡¯s idea of a cape, and he wore a simple black domino mask over his face. His hair was red and spiky.


    This was Anchovy. And as absurd as he looked, his power, as I understood it, was still a pain in the ass. Despite making himself look like some goofy, toddler parody of a hero like Superman, his gift wasn¡¯t exactly superstrength and flight. No, he ruined things. Or actions. Basically, if he focused on a person, things they did tended to go wrong. They might choke on a bit of food they were eating, sprain their ankle kicking someone, accidentally jerk the wheel when driving and run someone over, or whatever. The list went on. The point was, he focused on someone and actions they took had negative results. Meanwhile, physical objects he focused on would fall apart or break or whatever. Guns jammed, walls simply crumbled as if they were much older than they were, computers broke down, so on and so forth. He focused on people or items and bad things happened. Such as me falling flat on my face just from turning around. Jackass.


    ¡°Boss is gonna be pretty pissed with you for hurting Cup,¡± Anchovy informed me while taking a pistol of his own from the belt around his one-piece pajamas (Fuck, how could I take him seriously like that, even with a gun? This wasn¡¯t fair.), which he pointed my way. ¡°But when I tell him I put a bullet in your brain, maybe he¡¯ll get over it.¡±


    Quickly throwing myself to the side, I snapped my hand up to shoot a wad of red paint that hit his gun. Unfortunately, his power must¡¯ve kicked in then, because when I yanked the gun away from him, it missed my hand entirely and smacked me right in the visor of my helmet. At least it didn¡¯t hit my face, thanks to said helmet, but I was still very briefly stunned, jerking backward reflexively. Which was enough time for Anchovy to cross the distance between us and tackle me. I landed hard on my back with the man on me. He¡¯d produced a knife from somewhere, which he was trying to shove into my ribs while holding me down with his other hand.


    But Riddles was there, diving in to grab the knife out of the man¡¯s grasp before he could shiv me (was it still called shiving even with a normal knife?) and carrying it away with a hard flap of her wings. Of course, that brought Anchovy¡¯s attention to her, and the lizard-bird abruptly flew straight into an overturned chair before falling to the floor. Which left Anchovy free to produce a second knife, preparing to shove it as deep into my gut as he wanted.


    I, however, didn¡¯t really like that plan. At all. And he¡¯d taken his focus off me for that brief moment, so I used it by painting my legs purple and kicking out hard. The guy was sent into the air and backward to slam high up into the wall with a loud blurted curse. As he started to fall, I hit him in the face with a wad of white paint, triggering it instantly to leave him blinded just before he hit the floor hard enough to make him yelp.


    Hoping that not being able to see me would mean he couldn¡¯t use his power on me, I lunged that way. Throwing myself onto the man, I used refreshed purple paint to rip the blanket-cape from his shoulders, then tore it in half before wrapping the first bit tightly around his head while he was still recovering. He cursed and spat at me, but I managed to shove the man over onto his stomach, using the other half of the cape to tie his hands behind his back.


    Okay, okay, he was down. He was secure, for the moment at least. Jerking myself up from him, I stumbled a little in my rush. Gaze snapping over toward Cup just in case, I found her still lying motionless. Totally out of it and in no position to fight, thank God.


    Right, Cup was down. Anchovy was down. Box¡­ my gaze snapped that way in time to see the man himself lying very still on the floor. Twinkletoes had his arms held out above his head, while Mars Bar was crouched over him, mouth open to growl very dangerously directly into his face, those enormous teeth like rows of daggers. Yeah, the guy wasn¡¯t interested in moving.


    Correction, he was very interested in moving. He just wasn¡¯t stupid enough to try it.


    The rest of the thugs seemed to be down for the count too, or just staying very still to avoid attracting attention. Looking around the room, I didn¡¯t see any more threats. They were down. They were done. We¡­ we actually pulled it off. Holy shit, we actually pulled it off!


    ¡°Riddles, watch these guys,¡± Pack ordered her bird-lizard, who had recovered by then. ¡°If anyone tries to move, rip their eyes out with your beak.¡± She waited for a confirming squawk before turning to me, panting heavily. Her shotgun lay nearby, bent at an angle that told me she¡¯d used it to hit something pretty hard. ¡°This hero shit is for the birds,¡± she informed me, still cradling her arm with a wince. ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Before I could say anything to that, That-A-Way came through the door. ¡°Aww, and here I was hoping you¡¯d enjoy this so much that you¡¯d switch sides. Cooome on, being celebrated and cheered instead of hated and run from is a lot more fun.¡± She came up, glancing around the room while adding, ¡°Plus there¡¯s the whole ¡®not being arrested¡¯ perk. Here.¡± With that, the girl tossed a couple pairs of stay-down cuffs to me. ¡°Let¡¯s make sure the Touched assholes don¡¯t get ideas.¡¯


    Catching the cuffs, I moved to where Cup was still laying sprawled out. ¡°Cover me?¡± I asked Pack. ¡°Pretty sure she can only affect one person at a time with that power of hers.¡±


    She came, producing a small pistol in place of that broken shotgun with her uninjured hand. Tuesday came with, growling low and baring his teeth. As we neared the fallen woman, she shifted a bit, then yelped out loud as the monkey-lizard literally jumped on her back.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I muttered, ¡°that¡¯s what I thought, faker.¡± Reaching down, I quickly cuffed the woman, making sure they were tight. ¡°We should probably gag her or something, just in case.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go with ¡®or something¡¯, Pack announced. ¡°Tuesday, if she makes a peep, punch her in the back of the head until she stops moving. Riddles, if she says anything to Tuesday, rip her throat out.¡± To me, she added, ¡°Her power¡¯s good at distracting, but shit at doing actual damage.¡±


    From the way Cup lifted her head and glowered at that, she wasn¡¯t happy with the assessment. Too bad. I looked away from her in time to see That-A-Way finish cuffing Box while Mars Bar and Twinkletoes reluctantly moved out of the way. Anchovy was still bound and blinded by his own blanket cape.


    ¡°Wow, I¡­ I think we actually pulled it off,¡± I murmured incredulously, looking around the room one more time. ¡°What about the hostages?¡±


    ¡°Safe and sound,¡± That-A-Way replied easily. Her mouth opened to say something else, but she was interrupted.


    ¡°Oooh, what kinda sound?¡± The voice came from the nearby doorway, and we all spun that way to find a figure coming into view. A figure who wore a tweed suit and a sackcloth mask with a long blond wig attached to it.


    ¡°Was it sorta like¡­ ¡®garrggggnnnlllurggull?¡¯¡± Pencil asked. ¡°Cuz that¡¯s basically the sound they were making a few seconds ago when I left ¡®em. It was pretty hilarious.¡±


    Wait¡­ Oh no. Oh no, no, no¡­


    ¡°Wha-what?¡± That-A-Way blurted, her eyes widening as she snapped her taser up to point at him. ¡°No, we¡­ I¡­ I left them somewhere safe.¡±


    There was a brief inhale from the masked psychopath as he rocked his head back and forth as though debating before shaking it. ¡°Yeeeeeah, not so much, Cupcake. I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, I didn¡¯t kill the kids because¡­ well, nature¡¯s already doing that for me and how am I supposed to compete with something that makes ¡®em that miserable for so long and then kills ¡®em anyway? Actually, that¡¯s a bad question, I could totally do it better, but I was in a bit of a hurry. And that whole hurrying thing is why I didn¡¯t kill all of the adults. Just cut a throat or two, disemboweled a couple more, and basically left the survivors up to their ears in blood, entrails, and psychological trauma. Oh, and the fact that I got to do that right after you told them they were safe and then left? That was probably my favorite part. Thank you for that, really. I¡¯ll send you a fruit basket or so¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, he was suddenly interrupted as That-A-Way appeared beside him, shoving the taser in his stomach with a scream while lashing out with her other hand to punch him. At the same time, Pack snapped that pistol of hers up and fired off several shots, and Mars Bar hurled himself that way with a roar.


    The taser did nothing. Nor did the punch. Or the bullets from the gun. Even as I was telling myself to move, trying to lunge in to help, Pencil snatched the taser from the other girl while driving his knee into her stomach. She doubled over, and he pivoted, catching hold of her neck to throw her into the incoming Mars Bar, who plowed into the girl while struggling to slow himself. That-A-Way hit the ground and rolled with a cry of pain. Mars, meanwhile, was suddenly hit with some kind of green cloud that exploded in his face. The big bear roared in agony and dove to the floor, rubbing his snout on the tile to get whatever it was off.


    Still pivoting to come all the way back around, Pencil threw that taser at Pack. It hit her with a sharp, visible jolt of electricity, and she hit the floor as well.


    Covering my legs with green paint for speed, I threw a puddle of blue at the floor by Pencil¡¯s feet just as he focused on me. It launched him upward, and I had the satisfaction of hearing a surprised yelp from the man. Then I hit him with red paint while he was still flailing in the air, while also hitting the furthest wall with the same color. Activating both sent him flying across the room to slam hard into that wall.


    It did nothing. He fell to the floor, and that seemed to do nothing as well, of course. Nor was he actually hurt when the invisible Twinkletoes yanked him off the ground and spun to slam him into that same wall again.


    Nothing hurt him. Nothing. We could do this all day and it wouldn¡¯t matter. But trap him? Contain him? Maybe we could do that.


    ¡°Hold him!¡± I blurted at Twinkletoes while scrambling that way. I still had one of those sets of cuffs. ¡°Just hold onto him!¡±


    The gorilla-lizard tried. He really did. But Pencil managed to get a hand into his pocket, throwing some kind of pellet up and back. It exploded in the animal¡¯s face, creating a another small cloud of green smoke similar to the one that had hit Mars Bar. This one that left Twinkletoes staggering and moaning in pain, releasing the man.


    I was there, painting my arms purple for strength as I tried to grab onto him. I couldn¡¯t hurt him, but I could hold him long enough to cuff him.


    Or not. He smoothly evaded as I tried to grab him. Worse, he laughed at me. Spinning on one heel like we were dancing as I lunged that way, he also ducked under the shot of red paint I sent at his face. The next thing I knew, his hand was on my shoulder, his foot hit my ankle, and the floor came rushing up to smack me in the visor.


    ¡°Probably a good idea to wear a helmet in this line of work,¡± he commended. Before I could move, his foot came down on my wrist, pushing against it enough to send a sharp shock of pain all the way up my arm, making it really hard to focus on anything else. ¡°Too bad y¨C¡±


    It had taken me a second, but I managed to concentrate enough to paint my wrist blue. Pencil was launched away from me, and I quickly rolled over on my back as he came down by a pile of chairs. My arm (the one that wasn¡¯t currently throbbing) snapped up to shoot red at him, but he threw one of those chairs in the way, making it catch that instead.


    ¡°Hey, Dingaling!¡± a female voice blurted, and my gaze reflexively snapped that way in time to see Cup, standing up and no longer cuffed (how the hell had she managed that?!) as she called, ¡°Is a dragonfly a dragon to a fly or a fly to a dragon?¡±


    Is¡­ wait, no hold on. I was fine, I could totally answer this. I could. This was easy. It was a dragon that¡­ hold on. Wait¡­


    In the background, I vaguely noticed Cup and Pencil both heading for the exit. Fork had gotten back to his feet to join them, but they¡¯d had to leave Box and Anchovy behind. Still, they wouldn¡¯t get away. I could catch up. I just had to finish this question. It was¡­


    ¡°Paintball!¡± A hand smacked me across the helmet, as Pack popped up into my field of view. ¡°What are you doing?! What¨Care you¨C¡±


    Snapping out of it, I waved both hands frantically, ignoring the burst of pain. ¡°Stop them, stop them!¡±


    That-A-Way was already back on her feet, and we, along with the lizard-beasts (Twinkletoes and Mars Bar had recovered) went running after the pair. We crashed through the exit of the hospital and out onto the front walkway to find¡­ nothing. They were gone.


    ¡°Yooo hooo!¡±


    Or not. We spun, stumbling a bit in our rush before looking up toward the roof of a low, one-story building at the edge of the lot straight ahead. Pencil, Fork, and Cup were there, the first waving a cell phone in one hand.


    ¡°You know, fucking with my bomb upstairs was really rude!¡± Pencil called down. ¡°Made it so much weaker than it should¡¯ve been. Now I can¡¯t knock the whole building down and teach those kids about the fleeting futility of life. Though I did get to slit their doctors¡¯ throats right in front of them, so maybe they¡¯ll work it out on their own!¡±


    ¡°Teleport?¡± I quickly asked That-A-Way.


    Her head shook, voice cracking a bit. ¡°They¡¯re south of us, I¡­ I can be intangible at him, but¡­ but¡­¡±


    Reaching out to grab her arm so I could launch at least the two of us that way, if not Pack and her animals, I stopped abruptly as Pencil held that phone up.


    ¡°Oh well,¡± he announced, ¡°if I can¡¯t take down a whole hospital, at least I can take out one floor.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± That-A-Way shouted, suddenly disappearing from my side just as Pencil hit the button on his phone. There was a second delay, before¡­


    BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!


    With a terrifying, deafening crash that blew out all the windows of the floor high above, the bomb went off. The force of it set off dozens of car alarms, and shards of glass and other debris rained down on us from above. I caught a brief glimpse of the Scions disappearing from the roof, while Pack and I both staggered, along with her animals.


    Her animals, that was, except for¡­


    ¡°Holiday!!!¡± Pack screamed in horror and panic, her head tilted back to stare up at the burning, totally destroyed hospital floor in shock and horror. The flames were spreading rapidly. Maybe the rest of the hospital could be saved if the firefighters got there quick enough, but anything on that floor would have been completely annihilated by the blast.


    Screaming Holiday¡¯s name again, Pack went to run back into the hospital. Quickly, I grabbed her wrist. She spun, screaming in my face about getting the hell away from her while lashing out with a kick that took me in the stomach. I staggered, and she shoved me away from her before spinning back that way, intent on running into the hospital.


    Then she stopped, as two figures emerged from the smoke. One human and one very much not.


    ¡°Hey,¡± That-A-Way managed after coughing a few times. Her hand came down on Holiday¡¯s head. ¡°Sorry, managed to teleport up and then out with her, but we had to walk back. You guys o¨C¡±


    She was stopped then, as Pack threw herself that way. ¡°Thank you!¡± the girl blurted, embracing That-A-Way tightly while basically outright sobbing. ¡°Thank you, thank you, thank you. You saved her. You saved Holiday. Thank you. Thank you.¡± She just kept repeating that, clearly openly crying before releasing the Minority girl so she could fall to her knees and hug Holiday just as tightly. If anything, she was crying even more.


    Sirens. I looked to the street and saw fire trucks, police cars, SWAT vans, ambulances, and more. They were all screaming their way up to both the hotel and this hospital. There were Touched flying around in the air above, and appearing on the streets.


    ¡°Go,¡± That-A-Way snapped quickly toward Pack. ¡°Get your animals and go, before you get arrested in all of this.¡± Then she looked to me, voice cracking. ¡°H-he really did it. He killed four of the people I left with those kids. T-two doctors, a n-nurse, and an orderly. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what¨CI was trying to¡­ I¡­ I¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I managed weakly, knowing it was inadequate. Pathetically so. What was I supposed to say? What could I say? People were dead. We hadn¡¯t saved all of them, not from that¡­ that piece of shit. It wasn¡¯t our fault. It was his. Pencil¡¯s. That psycho fuck. He killed them, just because he couldn¡¯t stand to let us save all of them. He killed them for no reason. Murdered them just¡­ just to murder them. Just to make sure we didn¡¯t save everyone.


    ¡°Hey.¡± Pack spoke instead, standing there surrounded by her animals even as the fire trucks reached the edge of the hospital lot. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry about what happened to those guys. But don¡¯t umm¡­ don¡¯t blame yourself.¡± She sniffed, hand clutching Holiday¡¯s neck. ¡°You got them out, you got those kids out, and a lot more of ¡®em would¡¯ve died if you hadn¡¯t done that. You¡­ did the right thing. You did the best you could.¡±


    It looked like she wanted to say something more, just from the girl¡¯s body language. But in the end, she turned and fled with her lizard-creatures, while the fire fighters were approaching with their hoses.


    ¡°I¨CI¡¯m going back to the kids,¡± That-A-Way stammered. ¡°There¡¯s people there with them already, but¡­ but I¡­ I have to¡­¡± She shook her head then, looking to me. ¡°Are you¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m good, but do you want some he¨C¡±


    She was gone, teleporting away. Which left me standing there on the front grass of the hospital while firefighters raced past me to focus on the flames burning high above, trying to stop them from spreading. I saw a small figure in a blue bodysuit with silver panels floating above them. Raindrop, the youngest of the Minority. She was sending water through the shattered windows as well, clearly directing it through the building to the worst of the fire. Even as I watched for those few seconds, she had doused most of the flames almost by herself, directing thousands of gallons of water through the place with just a wave of her hand.


    Good. Good. They had this handled. And with Pencil gone, the situation back over at the hotel was definitely under control. Things were¨C


    Wait. Oh. Oh shit. Things were under control. The hostage situation was over.


    My family would be looking for me.

 Alliances 6-09

    Run, run, run! I had to get back to the hotel before my family figured out I had been gone. They were going to be freaking out as it was, and if they realized I wasn¡¯t anywhere in the hotel, the whole damn city would shut down. I¡¯d never be able to explain it. I had to get in there and convince them that I hadn¡¯t gone anywhere, before my whole situation got a hell of a lot worse than it already was.


    In a blind rush, I made it to the top of the hospital while the firefighters and Raindrop were still working. From there, I made it through the next roof over and went through a quick loop to reach the back side of the hotel. It was hard, considering everyone was on high alert. I could see people all over the grounds, cops and Touched alike. It was chaos down there. Police lights, both the red and blue flashing kind and the bright spotlight variety, were so prevalent they made the parking lot almost as bright as day.


    Somehow, perhaps by a miracle I¡¯d earned for saving those kids or something, I made it back to the balcony of the hotel. There was a spotlight coming my way, so the second I was down, I dropped and flattened myself against the floor of the balcony while the light swept by just above my head.


    Landing also reminded me of the pain in both my leg and wrist. I was pretty sure the wrist wasn¡¯t actually broken or anything. Or even sprained. It was just bruised where Pencil had stepped on it. My leg, however, had that cut in it from Fork¡¯s quill. And my parents would undoubtedly notice both. How was I going to explain those?


    Wait, I knew how. Scrambling to my feet, I painted myself green for speed and rushed through the bedroom of the suite just in time to hear someone shout my name muffledly. It was coming from out in the hotel corridor, and I could see the door handle jiggle a bit. My name was shouted again, and that time I recognized my father¡¯s voice. It sounded like he was fumbling for the key.


    Still sped up, I stretched one hand out toward the dress I¡¯d left on the floor and shot red paint at it. At the same time, I lunged for the nearby desk. As the dress was summoned to my red glove, my other hand yanked the drawer there open and found the fancy letter opener with the hotel¡¯s name engraved on it.


    There was an affirmative beep from the door just then, as my dad managed to get the key card in. At the last second, I threw myself sideways into the connected bathroom and yanked the door shut, locking it.


    I was still sped up, but I had to change clothes. Looking down at my arms, I painted those green. Not the suit, my actual arms. With the added speed, I stripped out of the costume probably faster than anyone had ever changed clothes in the history of the universe. I could hear the door opening out in the main room, my dad¡®s voice louder and clearer then as he called for me.


    Ignoring it for the moment, I grabbed the dress and yanked it on haphazardly. It was rumpled and wrinkled to hell, but that was the least of my worries.


    The bathroom doorknob jiggled, then there was a loud bang against it as my father shouted my name once more. He sounded frantic, maybe even close to tears.


    But there was one more thing I had to do. Putting black paint over my chest to silence my yelp, I used the letter opener to stab into the dress and my leg right where the wound was. I tried to be careful, but it had to look right. Even if it did make me cry out (silently thanks to the paint) and stagger.


    Dad banged on the door again, sounding like he was about to knock it down. Marshaling myself, I started to say something. Then I caught myself and yanked the helmet and mask off. It would¡¯ve been pretty bad if my voice was still changed. Saved from making that kind of fatal mistake, I made myself sound afraid. It wasn¡¯t honestly that hard. ¡°Wh-who¡¯s there?¡± That gave me time to yank open the cupboard under the sink, shoving the costume in there.


    There was a brief pause, and I heard my dad take a shaky breath. ¡°Sweetie, it¡¯s Dad. It¡¯s okay. You can come out.¡±


    Checking myself in the mirror, I belatedly yanked the gloves off and stashed them under the sink as well. Then I smoothed the dress down as much as I could before hesitantly stepping over by the door. Slowly, I cracked it open, peeking out with the letter opener held tightly in one hand. When I saw my father standing there, I pulled it the rest of the way.


    He was on me immediately, picking me up from the floor while crushing me against his chest. My dad hugged me tightly, so much so that it was hard to breathe. He murmured my name a couple times, voice cracking a little bit in the process.


    ¡°Dad,¡± I managed to get out a bit weakly, my exhaustion from everything that it happened, including my rush to get back here, helping me sound even more out of it and afraid. ¡°What happened? There were men with guns and they were in the hallway so I hid. I¡¯m sorry, I was just hiding and I didn¡¯t do anything and my phone didn¡¯t work and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shhh, shhhh, it¡¯s okay.¡± Dad still held me crushed against his chest, shuddering a little bit as he held me. ¡°You¡¯re safe now. They are gone, it¡¯s over. You¡¯re safe. You¡¯re safe.¡± It sounded as though he was talking to himself as much as to me.


    I started to say something else, but was interrupted by the sound of someone else coming into the room. It was my mother. She practically flew through the doorway, eyes wild until she spotted the two of us. My name fell from her trembling lips as she came our way. Dad set me down just in time for her to scoop me up, pulling me into a new tight hug. ¡°You¡¯re okay, you¡¯re safe.¡± She too was clearly telling herself that as much as me. Then she looked down, giving a soft gasp. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding!¡±


    Dad had clearly just noticed that too, his eyes snapping to the letter opener in my hand. ¡°What did¨C¡±


    Flinching, I stepped back, ducking my head as if I was embarrassed. ¡°I¡­ I saw those guys so I took the letter opener in case they came in. It was all I could think of. But I¡­ when I went to hide in the bathroom, I slipped and¡­ and fell. I guess I sort of¡­ cut myself? I might¡¯ve sprained my wrist a little too.¡±


    ¡°Let me see.¡± Dad already had something in his hand. It was a safe-seal bandage, one of the professional variety, meaning it had medical gel on it that would prevent infection and help the wound heal faster. He took a knee, and I lifted the dress enough for him to carefully put the bandage on my leg. It looked like a large white patch, which sealed to the skin as soon as he pressed it firmly against the wound. I could immediately feel the very slight sting, followed by a soothing cool gel. The bandage would come off on its own sometime the next day, and would either need to be replaced by another or not, depending on how bad the wound was.


    ¡°Th-thanks, Dad,¡± I managed. ¡°But¡­ but I think I ruined the dress too. I was hiding and laying on the floor after that and it¡¯s all bloody from the stupid knife thing and I was all curled up and I know you¡¯re not supposed to do that, but I was afraid. And I was trying to call somebody, but the phone didn¡¯t work and I was¡ª¡±


    Head shaking quickly, Mom stepped over to pull me into another hug before looking down at me. ¡°I do not care about the stupid dress.¡± Her hand moved to cup my cheek tenderly, tears in her eyes. ¡°You are safe, Principessa. You are safe, that¡¯s all I care about. You are safe. I was afraid that¡­ I was afraid. You are okay. The men who came, they didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t see me,¡± I confirmed. ¡°I saw them in the hallway, so I shut the door. But then I was afraid they¡¯d come in, so I took the letter opener and hid in the bathroom. I didn¡¯t know what to do. I didn¡¯t hear what was going on, I wasn¡¯t¡­ I mean¡­¡±


    She shushed me again, pulling me into another hug with her trembling arms. ¡°You are safe. That¡¯s all that matters.¡±


    Simon had made it to the room by then, hearing my explanation. He too came over to hug me, without even making any kind of smartass remark. He actually looked worried, his hug genuine and firm. ¡°Lucky you,¡± he managed after a few seconds of that. ¡°Missed all the excitement. Even if you did manage to hurt yourself anyway.¡± Okay, maybe he couldn¡¯t avoid every smartass remark. It was probably genetic.


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t want anything more exciting than that,¡± I murmured before stepping back to smooth the wrinkled and bloody dress down. ¡°But what happened? Who were those guys? They looked like soldiers or something, but¡­ not.¡±


    Dad shook his head. ¡°Definitely not soldiers. It was¡­¡± He and Mom exchanged brief looks, some kind of silent conversation going on between them before he continued. ¡°It was the Scions. But it¡¯s okay. They¡¯re gone now. They¡¯re all gone, I promise. We¡¯re safe.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°Th-the Scions?¡± I made my voice whimper weakly. ¡°Are you sure they¡¯re gone? What if they come back? What if they¡¯re still around? What if¡ª¡±


    Mom quieted me with another embrace, promising that all the danger was gone and that there were police and Star-Touched all over the place. Dad took me by the hand and led me out to the balcony to look down, showing me all the cops down there while telling me all about the heroes who had shown up and were scouring every inch of the hotel. ¡°The Scions aren¡¯t stupid enough to stick around with all this here,¡± he murmured. ¡°They¡¯re gone by now, I promise. They¡¯re gone.¡±


    Somehow, I stopped myself from pointing out that there had been plenty of cops and Star-Touched around when Pencil first showed up with his fanatics. It didn¡¯t feel like that would actually accomplish anything useful.


    Instead, managing a little nod, I turned a bit to look over at the hospital. The fire was out by then, but there were still fire trucks and police. Raising my hand, I pointed. ¡°Oh my God, what happened over there? Are they okay? That¡¯s the kids hospital. What happened?¡±


    Dad assured me that things were handled over there too, that from what he heard, no kids had been killed. ¡°The fire was contained to one floor that was already evacuated. It¡¯s okay. It could¡¯ve been a lot worse. A lot worse.¡± He repeated that in a quiet, somewhat shaky voice while putting both hands on my shoulders with a gentle squeeze. He was clearly still convincing himself I was really there and I hadn¡¯t been hurt.


    ¡°The Scions are monsters,¡± I murmured before turning to look at him with wide eyes. ¡°What about Pencil? He had to be here too, right? Did they catch him?¡± I was still curious about how he had gotten off the roof of this place and all the way over to the hospital.


    Dad sighed. ¡°They took down the one pretending to be Pencil. Or being forced to pretend.¡±


    Blinking at that, my head tilted. ¡°Forced to pretend?¡±


    With a grimace, Dad explained. ¡°Someone who looked like him was on the roof, someone with his costume. He was going on the way Pencil does. But when it all went down, someone tackled him and it turned out he was just some innocent civilian under that mask. He was gagged and had a speaker system rigged up under his suit so the real Pencil could talk through it. And a bomb collar to make sure he did what he was told. They just managed to disable the thing in time.¡±


    Mom cursed in Italian quietly before adding, ¡°He probably thought it would be amusing if someone took a shot at the man and ended up killing an innocent civilian.¡±


    ¡°They would have killed more than that,¡± Dad pointed out. ¡°That collar was linked to his life signs too. If he died, he would¡¯ve blown and taken off a good chunk of the roof in the process.¡±


    ¡°Sterling,¡± Mom chastised, ¡°that is enough. We don¡¯t need to scare her any further.¡± To me, she added, ¡°The point is, they did not find the real Pencil.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Simon muttered from the doorway onto the balcony. ¡°Why would they do something useful like that? They oughta grab that motherfucker, bury him in concrete, and drop the whole slab into the Marianas Trench. Just be done with it. Go be invulnerable thirty-five thousand feet below sea level, dickface.¡±


    The fact that Mom didn¡¯t reprimand his language said more to me about how shaken up she was about this whole thing than basically anything else could have. Instead, she stepped up behind him from within the room, looking to me. ¡°Your father and I need to take care of a few things. Can you stay right here in this room and not go anywhere until we get back? Simon can stay with you, if you need someone.¡±


    I started to respond to that, but there was a knock against the still open doorway out in the main hall. Tomas was there, raising a hand. ¡°Uh, I could stay if she wants. Sorry, I was coming to check on Cassidy and¡­ I guess I interrupted.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly put in. ¡°I¡¯ll stay with Tomas. We¡¯ll just stay here in the room. We won¡¯t go anywhere, I promise. Trust me, I¡­ I¡¯m not really in the mood to go wander around. And I¡¯d be limping anyway.¡± Considering everything I had just been through, it was an easy promise to make. I wasn¡¯t interested in doing anything else for a long time. And at least this way it would be Tomas staying with me. I knew he didn¡¯t have any kind of involvement with my family¡¯s criminal empire. Unless they had some kind of London branch, which was just me being ridiculously paranoid.


    My parents exchanged looks once more before Mom stepped out to gently kiss my forehead. ¡°The phones are working again,¡± she murmured, ¡°so if you need anything, anything at all¡­ just call one of us, okay?¡±


    Once I promised to do so, she, Dad, and Simon headed out to do¡­ whatever they were going to do. I was left standing there in front of Tomas, feeling awkward.


    ¡°So,¡± the boy started hesitantly, ¡°I guess this was all a stupid game for those guys. They were just trying to get money and stuff out of all the rich people here, threatening those kids at the hospital for it. Pretty fucked up, huh?¡±


    ¡°Fucked up?¡± I echoed before nodding as I stepped into the room and moved to sit down on the nearby couch. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d say it was really fucked up.


    ¡°Then again, that¡¯s kind of the Scions in a nutshell.¡±


    *****


    Things were busy through the rest of the night and most of the next day. I stayed at home, making sure my parents understood I was safe and that, as far as they knew, I had never been in any direct danger. They insisted on checking the cut in my leg, and put a fresh safe-seal bandage on it after calling in the family doctor to make sure it wasn¡¯t infected or anything. I held my breath through the examination, but she didn¡¯t say anything out of the ordinary. The cut I¡¯d made with the letter opener clearly covered up the puncture wound from the quill, so the pain had been worth it. And my wrist wasn¡¯t actually sprained, though there was still some soreness to it.


    In the end, my family thought I had hidden in that bathroom and never saw anything more of the bad guys than their backs. If they¡¯d had the slightest clue of just how close I¡¯d come to being killed last night, regardless of the being Touched part, they probably would have locked me into my room and not let me leave until I was in my mid-twenties.


    As it was, I waited until evening when I knew they were at some kind of big meeting for all the rich and powerful players who had been there last night before I went anywhere. Once I finally felt safe getting out of that house for awhile, I changed clothes into my costume and made a beeline for Wren¡¯s place.


    Reaching the parking lot in front of the bookstore, I saw Fred hosing down some kind of sedan. When he saw me, the man twisted the nozzle to shut down the water before speaking. ¡°Hey, you okay? Lizard girl said you ran into that Scion shit down at the party last night.¡±


    Nodding, I replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good. Thanks mostly to her. She¡¯s pretty cool. You know, for a villain.¡±


    ¡°For a villain,¡± he echoed quietly, frowning for a moment before heaving a sigh as he looked to me. ¡°Hey, listen. I just wanted to say that I¡¯m sorry about before. Sorry for how I treated you and for helping that crazy asshole. I didn¡¯t know what he was going to do with that stuff, but it¡¯s not an excuse. I should¡¯ve asked more questions, I shouldn¡¯t have gotten involved. Shouldn¡¯t have sold the kid¡¯s stuff like that. It was wrong, and I was an asshole. So¡­ yeah, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Blinking at that, I gave a short nod. ¡°It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re working on fixing it. I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s what matters.¡±


    ¡°Hell yeah, we¡¯re working on it,¡± he confirmed. ¡°Speaking of which, the kid¡¯s downstairs. You should go talk to her.¡±


    So, I did, heading in and down. Reaching the lab, the first thing I saw was Pack. She was sitting over on the couch, legs held up to her chest in a pretty casual posture for someone in a costume. Her attention was focused solely on the phone in her hands. When I entered, she looked up and waved the phone at me. ¡°Hey, you know what? Your friend That-A-Way is pretty cute. I see why you like playing hero with her around.¡±


    Flushing under the helmet, I started to say that I hadn¡¯t noticed, only to stop myself. Would a boy have noticed? Hmm.


    Shaking that off, I decided to change the subject by asking, ¡°Is Holiday okay then?¡±


    She nodded, pointing to the cage where all the lizards were curled up asleep in their natural forms. ¡°Yup, giving them a break today. They put in a lot of work back there.¡±


    ¡°So did you,¡± I pointed out. ¡°And you didn¡¯t have to, so¡­ thanks. Seriously, I¡¯m pretty sure a lot of those kids would¡¯ve died without you last night. Actually, I know they would have. Without you, there¡¯d be a bunch of dead children in that place. And they would¡¯ve lost a lot more of the hospital with that bomb. Seriously, you were awesome.¡±


    The full black mask hid her expression, but I had the idea she was blushing a bit. ¡°No big deal. I¡¯m not some monster who¡¯s going to let a bunch of little kids die. But it¡¯s over. Let¡¯s talk about the important stuff, like, for example, do you have That-A-Way¡¯s number, or what? You know, so I can thank her for saving Holiday.¡±


    Hesitating briefly, I carefully replied, ¡°I better make sure it¡¯s okay with her before letting you have it, you know? I mean, you guys are still on opposite sides. Unless you wanna join the Minority so you can see her again?¡±


    She laughed, shaking her head. ¡°Nice try, kid. Hey, if the Minority¡¯s so amazing and all, why aren¡¯t you joining them? Last time I checked, you actually were trying to play hero. And they¡¯re kind of the big thing for teen heroes, right? You get training, support, friends, all that stuff you should be interested in. So what¡¯s with the whole keeping them at arm¡¯s length thing?¡±


    Thankfully, I was spared from having to respond to that very good question by Wren, who popped her head up from the pile of junk she had been buried in, waving excitedly. ¡°Paintball! Hiya. Good timing, we just need a little more help and poof, here you are. I got through some of this faster than I thought I would.¡±


    ¡°Faster?¡± I echoed. ¡°Does that mean¡­?¡±


    Her head bobbed quickly. ¡°It¡¯s almost done. Like, really close. We just need to do a couple more things, and I think you can help finish it up. With a little luck, it¡¯ll be ready by tomorrow. And then we¡¯ll be able to use the suit and find those vials.¡±


    ¡°Well then,¡± I replied with a smile. ¡°What are we waiting for?


    ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡±

 Interlude 6A - Raindrop

    It was almost two o¡¯clock in the morning when a small, clearly very young girl in a hooded windbreaker walked through an alley beside a fast food joint. Izzy Amor, publically known as Raindrop, was practically dead on her feet. She was so tired by that point that she could barely keep her eyes open as she all-but stumbled down the alley. She had just spent the past several hours helping to clear up the fires at the hospital, and then hanging around while the bomb squad people made sure there were no more explosives that might go off. There weren¡¯t, but the bomb guys had to be really thorough, which meant Izzy and the others sat around for hours.


    Now that it was all over, Izzy was pretty sure she wouldn¡¯t be able to even summon a little rain cloud in her hand. Just the idea of using her power any time soon made the twelve-year old feel kind of nauseous. All she wanted to do was get home, fall into bed, and sleep for a whole day.


    Reaching the end of the alley, the girl stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked both ways. There was no sign of anyone, aside from a sedan at the end of the street going the other way. Taking the phone from her pocket, she checked the messages. The most recent conversation showed the short, clearly terse, ¡®Coming¡¯. It was sent fifteen minutes earlier. Home was a ten minute drive away, so counting time to get dressed, her ride would be here any minute.


    A smile touched the girl¡¯s face at the thought of getting home. She might take a shower before crashing, just to get the smell of smoke and stuff off. But mostly, just sleeping sounded great.


    With a yawn, she put her back against the wall of the nearby building and watched the corner her ride would be coming from. Headlights appeared, and she perked up. But they belonged to a jeep that drove straight past. After another minute, the girl yawned and slowly sank down to sit against the wall. Her eyes glanced briefly to the phone to make sure there wasn¡¯t another message, before returning to watch the nearby intersection. Any minute now. Any minute.


    The sudden blaring of a horn along with a nearby light snapped Izzy awake. She jerked up right from where she had slumped over, staring with wide eyes until her gaze centered on the van waiting in front of her with the door open. The driver, her mother, hit the horn again and made an impatient gesture while shouting, ¡°Stop wasting time and get in! Some of us have to work!¡±


    Scrambling to her feet, Izzy took a brief second to glance at the phone in her hand. Forty-five minutes had passed since she sat down, an hour since her mother had said she was on her way. Quickly, she shoved the phone in her pocket and moved over to climb into the van. Before she had the door shut, they were moving, pulling away from the curb with a squeal of tires.


    Mariana Amor wore a jacket over her nightgown, grumbling to herself as they blew through a red light. ¡°This is garbage, you understand? Garbage. These people have you out at all hours and they can¡¯t even bring you home afterward? It¡¯s disrespectful. Completely disrespectful. You know why they do it? Because they don¡¯t respect you. They think they can walk all over you, walk all over us. It¡¯s what they do. They use you for your power and they will throw you away as soon as you¡¯re not useful enough. You know that? You tell me you know that, Isidora.¡±


    ¡°But Madre,¡± Izzy protested a bit weakly, ¡°they¡¯re still busy making sure everyone¡¯s safe at the hotel and the hospital. They¡¯re gonna be busy all night, but they said it was okay for me to leave because I was tired. And they said I could wait for a ride, but your message said that you were on the way, so I said they didn¡¯t have to do anything. I thought you¡¯d be here soon.¡±


    Her mother gave the girl a sharp look. ¡°Don¡¯t you put it back on me, ni?ita. I told you, I have to work in the morning. You know, that thing that puts real food on the table for both of us? Besides, I was a little tired when you called and I didn¡¯t want to have an accident falling asleep at the wheel. You don¡¯t want your mother to have an accident and die, do you?¡±


    ¡°No, Madre,¡± Izzy murmured quietly, shaking her head. She turned a bit to look out at the passing buildings as they drove, not wanting to rile her mother up any more than she was.


    It didn¡¯t really work. For the next seven minutes, Izzy sat in silence and listened as her mother ranted about how disrespectful the people behind the Minority were, how they treated her like a disposable asset, how they didn¡¯t care what happened to her or what kind of trouble they put her family through as long as they had access to her power. And so on and so on. Occasionally, she would tell Izzy to agree with her to make sure the girl was listening, but mostly she just went on.


    Finally, they parked in the covered parking lot next to their condominium and headed up the stairs. Izzy trudged along, yawning once more as they reached the front door. Her mother fumbled with the keys in the dim light from the nearby porch lamp, still cursing under her breath about how late it was and how little sleep she was going to end up getting before work.


    Eventually, her mother found the right key and unlocked the door. Izzy stepped through, unzipping her jacket while visions of her warm, comfy bed danced through her mind. Maybe the shower would wait until morning, because at this rate, she¡¯d fall asleep in there and that would¨C


    ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re finally home.¡± The sudden words interrupted Izzy¡¯s thoughts, and she blinked up to see a strange man standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He wore one of those old bird-like plague doctor masks, along with a dark red apron over a black bodysuit.


    The sight of the man suddenly made Izzy forget all about being tired. Her hands snapped up, a ball of water forming between them before she even thought about the fact that she was giving away that she had powers. None of that mattered, except for protecting herself and her mother.


    Unfortunately, the ball of water had barely formed between her hands before a sudden, intense pain exploded in the back of the girl¡¯s head. Izzy collapsed to the floor, sprawling out as her vision wavered in and out. Black spots had appeared, and she blearily looked up to see her mother standing there with a heavy, now-cracked figurine in one hand. ¡°Sorry, baby,¡± she started while Izzy¡¯s vision swam and began to fade. It took another second for consciousness to completely flee, enough time to leave her with her mother¡¯s words echoing through her head.


    ¡°But this whole thing just isn¡¯t working out anymore.¡±


    *******


    With a sudden start, Izzy snapped awake. She tried to sit up as her eyes opened, only to find that neither helped. From what the girl could tell, she was tied to a chair, with a blindfold on. Some kind of heavy plastic ball was in her mouth, stopping her from saying anything. She did, however, make a noise of confusion, shifting in the chair while jerking a bit against the bonds.


    ¡°Ah,¡± a man¡¯s voice spoke, ¡°she¡¯s awake. Let¡¯s see then¡­¡± There were fingers against her head, and she flinched at the rush of pain that shot through it from the blow she¡¯d taken to the head. A blow from¡­ from¡­ her own mother? But why? Why would her mother hit her like that?


    The blindfold came off, and Izzy found herself staring into that plague doctor mask, as the man studied her from behind the mirrored lenses in the eyes, leaving the girl staring at her own reflection when she tried to meet his gaze. She saw herself, bound to a heavy metal chair in her own kitchen, ball gag in her mouth. Her eyes were wild and looked almost crazed, leaving her even more stunned at the sight of it than she had already been.


    ¡°There, see?¡± That was her mother¡¯s voice, speaking up from the doorway. As Izzy¡¯s eyes snapped that way, she saw the woman come into view. ¡°The kid¡¯s just fine. You can do your¡­ whatever you¡¯re going to do, after I get paid. So come on then, give it over before I change my mind about this whole thing and find someone who might offer a little bit more.¡±


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    Instead of responding to her, the plague doctor looked at Izzy, head tilting a little. ¡°You look confused, dear,¡± he murmured. ¡°Let me spell it out for you. My name is Handler. I work for the man you know as Cu¨¦lebre. Your mother sold you to him, and I¡¯m here to get you ready. That¡¯s why it took time for her to come pick you up. We were¡­ coming to a final arrangement.¡±


    Staring in shock and confusion, the words echoing through her head as she stared at her mother, Izzy shouted into the gag, her words swallowed up by it. At the same time, she jerked in the chair, a ball of water forming in front of her. But the instant it did, the man called Handler put a finger against her hand, and Izzy¡¯s muffled words turned to a scream of agony. Pain, the likes of which she¡¯d never known, exploded throughout her entire young body as the water fell apart.


    ¡°Hey!¡± her mother blurted, ¡°I told you, not until you pay me. Money, you cheap bastard.¡±


    ¡°In a moment,¡± the man assured her before turning his attention back to Izzy. ¡°We have to make sure we all understand each other. So go ahead,¡± he urged, stepping away from the girl once her muffled scream had faded, hands up to show he wasn¡¯t going to stop her. ¡°Try that again.¡±


    The ball of water had barely begun to form that time before the shock of agony was back, bringing a renewed scream to the gagged young girl while her mother simply looked away.


    ¡°I touch you,¡± the man informed her, ¡°and mark a certain action as wrong. Actions such as using your power. Or raising your voice. Or disobeying an order from certain people. You do the action, you get punished. For now, the punishment my touch instills will only last for a few minutes. But with enough training and repeated sessions, anything you ever do that is against what Cu¨¦lebre requires or allows will bring that same pain for weeks, months, years at a time without needing to be refreshed. Eventually, I won¡¯t need to renew it at all. And by then, you won¡¯t need the pain anyway. You¡¯ll simply do as you are told. Now then, remember that I have instilled a punishment for raising your voice. So no shouting. Let¡¯s see if we¡¯re on the same page.¡± He reached out, carefully unlatching the ball gag before pulling it away from her mouth.


    ¡°M-Madre!¡± Izzy blurted, tears suddenly flooding her eyes. ¡°Madre, it¡¯s not true! Say it¡¯s a trick! No, you wouldn¡¯t do this! You can¡¯t do this!¡± All thought of being tired had fled the girl, replaced by a feeling of loss and betrayal the likes of which she might never actually understand.


    Her mother spared a glance for her, pausing before stepping over. ¡°Look, Izzy, it¡¯s nothing personal. I just¡­ I never wanted to be a mother. I never wanted to be a normal mother, let alone one for a¡­ a superhero. I didn¡¯t want it. I still don¡¯t. I¡¯m not¡­ I¡¯m not strong like you are, Izzy. Whatever happens, I know you can handle it. Yes, they¡¯ll hurt you. But you¡¯re a big girl. You¡¯re a strong girl. You¡¯ll be okay. And me¡­ I¡­ I¡¯ll start a new life somewhere else. You¡¯ll get over it.¡±


    She¡¯d¡­ she¡¯d get over it? Her mother had¡­ her mother had sold her identity and her to a monster who wanted to torture her into obedience and she would just¡­ get over it? Izzy stared, mouth open as tears continued to fall silently. She could find no words, could find no thought. Her mother¡­ her mother didn¡¯t care about her. She sold her. She was¡­ she was going to leave her in this man¡¯s hands so he could do¡­ do whatever he wanted. Why? Why? Her body trembled, shaking against the bonds that held her to the heavy metal chair. Her voice was weak, marked by fear and confusion that made her ashamed of herself. ¡°Madre¡­ Mama, please¡­¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± her mother snapped. ¡°Don¡¯t start that. I just¨CI can¡¯t handle you. I don¡¯t deserve to have to deal with any of this. I told you, I didn¡¯t ask to be a mother, especially after your father left. I¡¯m not cut out for it and you¨Cyou¡¯re worth more like this. Do what the man says and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± With that, she turned to Handler, voice snapping, ¡°You have her and she¡¯s secure. Money, now.¡±


    A new ball of water formed, reflexively summoned by the sobbing, pleading girl. It popped, as a renewed scream of agony exploded from her mouth. She¡¯d barely gotten the first sound out before the gag was unceremoniously shoved back in. With it secure, muffling yet another scream as she struggled to use her power, Handler turned his back to the girl, apparently dismissing her from his mind as he produced a cell phone and extended it to her mother.


    ¡°As agreed, five hundred thousand dollars for one moldable, powerful young Touched. As you can see, it¡¯s been sent to the offshore account you specified. Are you satisfied?¡±


    The look of eager greed on her mother¡¯s face as she stared at the phone screen made Izzy stop pleading and struggling against the gag. It was that, more than the woman¡¯s cold words or the entire situation, which convinced her of just how real this was. Her mother didn¡¯t care about her. She was selling her to be tortured and running away with the money. There was no sense in begging, no sense in pleading with her mother to change her mind, because she wouldn¡¯t. Her mother wasn¡¯t just okay with her being sold to Cu¨¦lebre, she was eager to leave with her money. There was no guilt in her face, nothing to indicate that she cared at all.


    Begging was useless. Being scared, sad, none of it would help. So Izzy stopped doing any of that.


    And started getting angry.


    Both her mother and the ¡®Handler¡¯ man had turned away from her. They were talking to each other while walking out of the kitchen. Izzy could hear them moving to the front door, her mother saying something about getting the money out of town before anyone found out what she¡¯d done. Through it all, listening to her voice, she felt that¡­ anger¡­ that sense of betrayal. And with it came agony beyond anything she had ever thought possible, pain she couldn¡¯t hope to describe. It suffused her entire being, her body arching up against the bonds as her dull, horrific scream of anguish, muffled only by the heavy gag, gradually filled the room.


    The front door closed, and those footsteps steadily returned, as Handler came back. ¡°Now then,¡± the man was already saying, ¡°we¡¯ll start your real training back at a more private place, but¡­ we¡­¡± He trailed off, head tilting upward toward the rapid, steady thrum of water against the roof of the condo. ¡°Is it raining? I¨C¡± His gaze dropped, staring at the bound young girl. She was pale, face stricken by the torture of what she was putting herself through. Sweat soaked through every pore, eyes tightly closed while she gave a low, tormented sob of misery.


    Then her eyes opened, staring at the man while the rain hammering against the condo suddenly grew louder. It sounded like a deluge of water had suddenly opened up. It hammered the windows, the rain coming down so hard and fast that the entire building literally shook under the force of it.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Handler managed to get out, ¡°shi¨C¡±


    That was as far as he got, before Izzy arched her back, bonds barely holding her to the chair. The gag did almost nothing to muffle her deafening scream, as the condo literally ripped its way out of the ground. Her other power, the one that allowed her to control gravity on anything that was wet, tore the building up into the air. They went up a good ten feet or so before the building tipped over entirely. Handler¡¯s words turned to a surprised shout, as the lights faded, plunging the condo into darkness. Cabinets had flown open, furniture, dishes, and more flying through the rooms. The last sight Handler had of the girl, she had directed water onto herself before flying, chair and all, through an open window just before the entire building slammed upside down into the ground.


    The wreckage of the condo littered the street, looking like a small, personal tornado had lifted it up, torn it apart, and thrown it back down again. Izzy found herself staring at it from where her power had dropped her when she could no longer handle any more pain. The drop had been enough to bend the chair somewhat, so she could slip her way free. Now, she stood, staring at the wreckage while tears fell freely from her face. Tears that would not slow, or fade, for a long time.


    Some of the rubble shifted a bit, and she saw Handler pushing himself out of it while lights on the front porches of nearby houses turned on. People were starting to come out, even as the masked man climbed up. He was joined almost immediately by several other Oscuro soldiers who came running from the nearby car where they had obviously been waiting to transport her.


    Her mother¡¯s van was already gone.


    The Oscuro people were looking around for her, weapons raised. They hadn¡¯t spotted Izzy from where she was crouched by a fence a couple houses down. But they would soon. And she still couldn¡¯t use her power without more pain. It had nearly killed her to do what she did.


    She couldn¡¯t fight them. Not like this. Not physically, and not emotionally. So, the twelve-year old did the only thing she could in that moment.


    She turned and ran away.

 Interlude 6B - Cuelebre

    The room had the appearance of an old Japanese dojo, with soft lighting, padded floor and fusuma, or rectangular wall panels. A pair of illuminated fountains at either front corner of the room provided gentle, soothing sounds of water steadily falling. Between and slightly before them knelt a figure whose meditative pose, with his legs crossed beneath him and hands lightly held to the sides, was at odds with the sheer menace of his physical appearance. This did not look like any ordinary man. When standing, he was a solid fifteen feet, his blue-purple skin appearing rough, while his demonic wings and long bladed tail completed the monstrous impression. Even sitting now, as he was, the figure still towered above most men.


    A soft, yet still intrusive chime interrupted the peaceful air within the room. It was followed momentarily by a second chime. The first indicated that his attention was requested. The second following it was the sign that it was too important to wait. A third chime would indicate an immediate emergency, such as an attack or something that couldn¡¯t wait even thirty seconds.


    Hearing no third chime, and thus understanding that this was important but not an immediate overwhelming threat, the kneeling, meditating figure exhaled slowly. Then he opened his eyes and looked to the single object that stood between the two fountains: a mirror. It was enormous, standing clear to the ceiling of this twenty-foot high room and stretching eight feet wide. The sides of the mirror were decorated by various gothic figurines such as knights and gargoyles. Within the reflective surface of the massive mirror, he saw himself as the rest of the world did. But looking further, gazing into his own eyes, he saw the man they would never actually know. He saw the man before the power.


    Danilo Taca. It was a name that the man known as Cu¨¦lebre hadn¡¯t gone by for quite some time. Given his extensive physical changes, having much of a secret identity wasn¡¯t really in the cards. He relied on his subordinates to do such ordinary, day-to-day things as shopping or making any appearance in public where intimidation or outright violence wasn¡¯t desired.


    Some of those who were similarly physically altered, he knew, were capable of transitioning their forms between the more mutated version and something that would more easily blend in. For whatever reason, he lacked that ability. Since the day he had touched the glowing orb and gone from being just another Latino guy being hounded by his parole officer on one side and his dealer on the other to¡­ what he was now, he had been this fifteen-foot tall demon. A demon with more strength and power than almost any in the city. There was a reason he had been mistaken for being an Abyssal for awhile. Very little could actually stand up to him.


    It was almost funny, the way being turned into what he was now had entirely solved his addiction issues. For so much of his life, Danilo Taca had been addicted to a pharmacy¡¯s assortment of the usual suspects. Anything he could snort, smoke, or inject. He¡¯d gone through all the normal cycles of trying to get clean, being out of it for awhile, then inevitably falling back into old habits. He even had a kid out there somewhere, one he¡¯d made with an old girlfriend during one of his clean times. He¡¯d told himself back then that he¡¯d stay clean for his girls. But¡­ well, his willpower back then wasn¡¯t exactly the greatest. He¡¯d stumbled and, when one was talking about that kind of lifestyle, a stumble meant one fell directly off a cliff.


    So he¡¯d fallen off the cliff and eventually ended up hiding out in the back of a crackhouse, waiting for the day either his parole officer or the dealer he¡¯d stolen from to bribe the parole office the first time managed to find him. The cops had raided the house, and he¡¯d managed to escape through a basement window only to have a couple of the damn dogs start chasing him. With cops shouting, someone shooting back in the house, dogs barking and nipping at his heels, Danilo had, through sheer adrenaline, hurled himself up and over the fence at the back of the yard. Falling on his back in the alley there with sirens wailing and the sound of more cops coming his way, he¡¯d opened his eyes to see the orb floating above his head. He¡¯d touched it, and¡­ among all the other changes, his addiction issues were gone. Sure, he still kind of missed the great way his old vices made him feel at times, but¡­ the physical urge, the feeling of being sick without them¡­ they were gone. He hadn¡¯t touched any of it since that day.


    Still, despite the many advantages his size and power granted, there were times when Cu¨¦lebre regretted being unable to pass as an average person the way others could. There were no times when he was ever just Danilo anymore. He was Cu¨¦lebre now and forever.


    But there was no sense in dwelling on such things. Picking himself up, the naked giant reached out to pluck his specially designed and tailored pants from the nearby shelf, tugging them on. Leaving his chest bare, he moved to the sliding door and used a single claw to push it aside. Beyond was a much heavier steel vault-like door with a spinning lever, which he cranked three times before pushing it open with a grunt. Strong as he was, he made it a point that his inner sanctum would be difficult for almost anyone to penetrate. The heavy door was a part of that.


    The second the vault door had been pushed open, the meditative peace of his sanctum was filled with blasting, piercing hard rock music that reverberated through the large hallway. It was coming from the nightclub and bar that lay directly above. That club served as one of several public fronts for the Oscuro gang within their territory. The corridors he now stood in (as well as his actual sanctum) were actually heavily refurbished alcohol smuggler tunnels from back during the days of prohibition. The bootlegger who¡¯d had the tunnels built originally had designed them large enough to drive a truck through to reach the basement of his illegal bar at one end. The other end of the tunnel, meanwhile, came out several blocks away through an ordinary-looking storm drain. Cu¨¦lebre had paid a hefty fee to have the tunnels shored up, put new entrances in leading to various buildings in the neighborhood for his people to get in and out of, and added a few defenses and security here and there in addition to rooms that would fit his size. It¡¯d cost a pretty penny, but being safe (not to mention comfortable) was worth it.


    Stepping out of his personal meditation chamber, he was immediately addressed by a woman in what appeared to be a circus ringmaster outfit, with a long red tailcoat fashioned so that the front only covered the top third of her torso. The front-center part of the ¡®coat¡¯ (such as it could be called one) was black with several rows of silver buttons. Beneath the tailcoat she wore a matching red vest that covered more of her upper body, leaving only the space from her navel to her waist bare. Black pants, dark gloves, a black top hat resting atop braided blonde hair, and a black, Zorro-like bandanna mask completed the look. She wore a whip on one hip and a pistol on the other.


    This was Grandstand. She had an assortment of powers. One allowed her to command the attention of anyone who could hear her voice, forcing them to focus on her and forget about anything else going on around them, though pain or injury would snap them out of it. She was equally capable of shunting attention away from herself and onto something else, allowing her to essentially disappear unless she took some direct action against them, breaking the effect. While the first power was in use, she would gain strength and durability for each person paying attention to her. While the latter was in effect, she would gain speed for each person whose attention was being drawn away from her. And she was capable of using both at the same time, forcing some to pay attention to her while the attention of others was diverted, allowing her to mix and match an assortment of strength and speed while controlling who noticed her. Beyond that, Grandstand always possessed an enhanced sense of timing and balance, as well as a constant awareness of how many people were looking at her.


    ¡°There¡¯s been a problem,¡± she informed Cu¨¦lebre curtly as soon as he emerged, standing a few feet away with her hands clasped behind her back. ¡°It¡¯s Handler.¡±


    Pausing, Cu¨¦lebre took a moment to consider his response before carefully guessing, ¡°His secret project, the one he said was coming to fruition tonight. Something went wrong.¡±


    With a nod, Grandstand replied, ¡°Very wrong, sir. You aren¡¯t going to like this. And neither is the Ministry. This falls directly under something they would have had to give permission for. And they wouldn¡¯t have given it for this.¡±


    Starting to walk down the large, refurbished tunnel, Cu¨¦lebre ordered, ¡°Let me worry about the Ministry. They may control the city, but my people are mine to judge. Tell me what happened.¡±


    She did, and he immediately regretted his previous words. Stopping in the tunnel, he dropped his head and heaved a long sigh. ¡°He should have told me what he was planning. I could have told him that it was stupid. I could have told him to leave it alone. Or negotiated to pass the information to the Ministry so they could handle it, making them owe us a favor. As it is¡­¡± He exhaled, turning to punch the wall with his massive fist with a sharp curse. As reinforced as it was (for just this very reason), the blow still left a visible dent and spiderweb cracks. He stood there, fist against the wall as he continued in a flat voice, containing his anger beyond that single outward expression. ¡°As it is, we¡¯ll be lucky to get out of this without substantial losses, monetary and otherwise. Correction, we won¡¯t get out of it without substantial monetary losses. We¡¯ll be lucky if that¡¯s all it is.¡±


    Some might have been surprised to hear the way a former lowlife thug, who had spent his life in and out of prison and never graduated high school, turned giant monster spoke. But the truth was, Cu¨¦lebre had done more studying and learning since his transformation than he ever did before it. After realizing that he no longer felt those old addictions, he¡¯d worked to improve himself as many other ways as possible. His body was about as strong as it could ever get, so he¡¯d worked to exercise his mind. Not being able to go out in public helped with that. He couldn¡¯t waste time going to bars, stadiums, arenas, or anything else where people would see him. His free time, for quite some time, had been taken up by learning more than he ever had at school. He¡¯d had college professors brought to him and paid to teach him. By his count, he¡¯d actually learned enough to have both earned his GED and at least one Master¡¯s Degree over the past three years or so. Hell, he¡¯d even considered reaching out to find that kid of his and her mother a few times, but had dismissed the urge. There was no reason to drag them into this kind of life.


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    Not that it mattered. Learning was a way of passing the time, a way of reminding himself that he was more than his outward appearance, and a way of ensuring that he knew more than others might expect. He¡¯d figured out long ago that he could run Oscuro as an iron-fisted thug and keep it going for awhile, but that if he really wanted to achieve anything, he needed to be more than that. His people, generally, respected him more for that.


    And then one of them went and did something this utterly idiotic, and made him want to revert to a far less mature mindset. He had to take a minute to collect himself before sighing. There was no sense in waiting any longer. ¡°Where is he?¡±


    Pointing to the nearest vault-like door (there were many spread along the tunnel), Grandstand replied, ¡°He¡¯s waiting for you above, in the back of the club.¡±


    Without responding, Cu¨¦lebre reached out and opened the vault door. It led into a large basement room. As with all of the rooms beneath the Oscuro holdings, the basement had been refurbished and updated to suit his size. This one appeared to be a living room, though one where everything within it was scaled up, with much larger chairs, dressers, a desk, even a television with a remote intended for use by his massive hands. Stepping in, he moved to the enormous, specially made plush leather chair in the corner and sat. His tail went through the convenient hole, idly dragging back and forth along the floor as he waved a hand. ¡°Bring him down.¡±


    Obediently, Grandstand moved to the heavy metal ladder against the far wall and pressed the button against it. There was a buzz as the intercom activated. ¡°He¡¯s ready, come down.¡±


    A moment later, the circular hatch at the top of the room was hauled open, and Handler climbed down the ladder. Out of his costume, the man was a thin, balding figure named Luis, with an intricate patchwork of religious tattoos on his left arm depicting the life of Jesus.


    Hopping off the ladder, Luis turned to Cu¨¦lebre. ¡°So, I suppose you heard that¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± Cu¨¦lebre ordered, holding up a hand. As his subordinate fell silent, he exhaled long and slow, watching him as several thoughts ran through his mind. Finally, he said, ¡°You don¡¯t know where the girl is.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Luis admitted. ¡°We have people looking, but to be honest¡­ I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll find her in time.¡± He said it quietly, but definitively, standing straight as he awaited the judgment of a man who could cut his head from his shoulders with a simple flick of his tail. ¡°I made a mistake. I should have brought the girl to a secure facility before letting her wake up. I was¡­ eager to begin. It would have been an incredible gain for¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop,¡± Cu¨¦lebre repeated, watching as the other man¡¯s mouth obediently snapped shut. Again, he watched the man in silence for a few moments. His eyes glanced toward Grandstand, who was standing quietly in the corner, before flicking back to Luis. With a sigh, he came to a decision. ¡°You need to get out of town.¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡± Luis asked, blinking up.


    ¡°The authorities will want your head,¡± Cu¨¦lebre informed him. ¡°We need to get you out of town before they start looking. You can lie low up north. Keep your head down, take a vacation. We¡¯ll bring you back in a few months, maybe longer.¡± He paused before adding, ¡°And I will be taking from your accounts to pay the Ministry for the complications.¡±


    It was clear that the other man didn¡¯t like that, but he accepted it with a bow of his head. ¡°Of course. Whatever¡¯s needed. I¡¯ll pack my things.¡±


    ¡°Do that,¡± Cu¨¦lebre nodded with a dismissive wave. ¡°Be ready to go in fifteen minutes.¡±


    As Luis climbed the ladder once more and the hatch closed, Grandstand looked to him. ¡°Sir¨C¡±


    ¡°Get the Ministry on the phone,¡± Cu¨¦lebre interrupted, his tone resigned. ¡°They¡¯ll be expecting the call.¡±


    He waited then, while the woman used her own phone. Once she had them on the line, a couple button pushes transferred it to the oversized phone sitting on the nearby table. As it buzzed, he let it do so for a second or two before slowly picking it up. ¡°This is Cu¨¦lebre.¡±


    ¡°Minister White,¡± came the response. It was the woman, the female leader of the Ministry, the secret organization who kept the criminal underground of Detroit in line. She and Minister Gold were the secretive heads of the organization. They held more power than anyone really knew, with deep access into almost every Touched organization in the city. Anyone who pulled a job within the city owed the Ministry a tax, and they always collected. They had ways of either keeping the attention of the authorities away from you, or directing them your way. For a price, they could ensure that a job had a much higher chance of not being interrupted. The Ministry ran things in Detroit, and as far as Cu¨¦lebre knew, none of the authorities had the slightest clue they even existed beyond the occasional dismissed whisper. Most in his own organization, aside from Grandstand, were utterly unaware of them.


    ¡°Minister,¡± Cu¨¦lebre started once it was clear the woman wouldn¡¯t say anything else just yet. ¡°I assume you¡¯re aware of the situation.¡±


    After a brief pause, she confirmed, ¡°We¡¯ve taken steps to contain it. But we require an explanation.¡±


    ¡°Handler worked on his own initiative,¡± Cu¨¦lebre informed her. ¡°I was aware that he had a secret project, which he believed would be a great boon for Oscuro. I was unaware that he had designs on a member of the Minority, let alone the youngest. He intended to surprise me with¡­ a gift. Had I known, you would have been informed so that the girl¡¯s mother, who came to us to begin with, could be dealt with sufficiently.¡± And if that had happened, they would have been having a much different conversation. A conversation where the Ministry would owe him, rather than the other way around. God damn it, Luis.


    His words were greeted by silence for a few seconds, before Minister White spoke again. ¡°I see. You are aware that there must be repercussions for this. The authorities will raze your territory to the ground to find someone who attacked the youngest Minority member in her own home. Let alone one who threatened to enslave her through torture. They have to. An example must be set, or no one will trust the Minority program.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Cu¨¦lebre confirmed, his voice dark. His hand gripped the phone tightly. This was the part he had known would come since the moment Grandstand had told him about the situation. ¡°I am prepared to make things right. First, one million dollars to your organization for the trouble all of this has caused.¡±


    ¡°A fair start,¡± Minister White replied simply. ¡°But hardly what will calm things down and ensure your organization doesn¡¯t become the target of a full-city sweep the likes of which even you could not survive. The Star-Touched will be enraged by this act, Cu¨¦lebre. They will be united in coming after you, and none of the other gangs will intervene. They won¡¯t want to draw that kind of heat to themselves. You¡¯ll be alone out there, if something isn¡¯t done to appease the authorities.¡±


    Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s response was a gruff, ¡°I know.¡± He took a breath, steadying himself while turning a look toward Grandstand. The nearby woman was watching him with an impassive look, having taken off the mask as she played with it in her hands. Watching her briefly, Cu¨¦lebre continued. ¡°You want him.¡±


    ¡°We want to contain the situation,¡± came Minister White¡¯s response. ¡°You know the only thing that will do that.¡±


    ¡°Of course I do,¡± he grunted, reminding himself not to throw the phone against the wall. ¡°This will slow our income.¡±


    ¡°We will take that into account,¡± Minister White assured him. ¡°You have always paid your dues for the territory you hold. We understand that this will affect what you are able to tithe, and will of course allow for it. We may be able to point to a few future jobs that will bolster your coffers to make up the slack. But we must know, will this affect your actual organization?¡±


    ¡°You mean are half my people about to suddenly change their minds about who they¡¯re loyal to if I lose access to Handler?¡± Cu¨¦lebre snorted. ¡°No. I¡¯m not a fool. Handler has been useful for the growth of Oscuro, but not that directly. I¡¯m not stupid enough to keep people close to me who were only obedient through torture. I used him to raise my army through training his¡­ subjects and selling them to organizations outside of the city in exchange for cash or in trade for one of their own Touched. None of my people were his subjects.¡± He paused before amending, ¡°None of the Touched, in any case. Like I said, it¡¯ll slow income, it won¡¯t cripple us.¡±


    ¡°You may wish to warn those you have done business with, in that case,¡± the woman noted. ¡°As I assume you are prepared to make the necessary arrangements to bring this under control.¡±


    Again, Cu¨¦lebre paused, looking over to the wall for a long moment before giving a low growl. ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll give you the address where Handler will be. You provide it to your contacts and have the authorities pick him up. But when they do¨C¡±


    ¡°When they do,¡± Minister White smoothly assured him, ¡°the heat will fade. Or, more accurately, it will be directed to the courts. He will be made an example of. I have no doubt that he will end up in Breakwater for what he¡¯s done. And there will be a great deal of scrutiny. Anyone within your organization who is arrested at any point in the future will likely have a strong legal defense that they were taken by Handler, and it will be difficult to prove otherwise. Though I believe the confusion and uncertainty that raises will be more of a boon for your people than a hindrance.¡±


    ¡°Small compensation for a grand mistake,¡± Cu¨¦lebre muttered before straightening. He gave the Minister the address she would need, exchanged a few more words, and dropped the phone back onto its hook. Turning, he cursed before putting his fist against the wall.


    Through gritted teeth, the giant, demonic man ordered, ¡°Contact anyone we sold a Touched to in the past year. Let them know there may be issues and that they should be prepared to contain the subjects themselves, and that we will provide a certain level of refund if such problems are severe. And get me in contact with Sandon.¡±


    ¡°The Ninety-Niners leader?¡± Grandstand inclined her chin curiously. ¡°Do they have¨C¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he interrupted. ¡°They don¡¯t have Handled subjects. I wouldn¡¯t provide such a resource to any of our direct rivals. But they have made certain¡­ offers of an alliance in pursuit of these vials that Blackjack wants so desperately. I¡¯ve refused before now, but we may need the kind of boost such an alliance could provide. With their aid, we can sell the vials either to someone outside of the city, or to Blackjack himself. As desperate as he seems to be, he¡¯ll pay any price for it. That could help recoup our losses from this disaster, even if we have to split it with Sandon and her people.¡±


    ¡°This¡­ Paintball,¡± Grandstand began carefully, ¡°he seems to have the best lead on the vials, from what we know. He certainly has Ashton Austin, or knows where he is.¡±


    Cu¨¦lebre was silent for a few long seconds, thinking about the embarrassment he¡¯d felt at chasing that boy all over the city, only to have him disappear at the last second. But this was more important than any embarrassment. ¡°Then have our people watch for him,¡± he ordered. ¡°Don¡¯t attack. Don¡¯t make themselves known until the vials are in sight. I want eyes everywhere watching for that boy to go gallivanting around with his paint. When he makes a move, our people will be ready.


    ¡°He can do all the work to find the vials, and then we¡¯ll take them from him.¡±

 Showdown 7-01

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s it!¡± Wren chirped a couple hours later while straightening up and dusting her hands off. ¡°It¡¯s all done.¡± Her tone was one of excitement and a bit of nervousness. ¡°At least, I think so.¡±


    She and I, along with Fred and Pack, were standing in the middle of the lab, surrounding a mannequin wearing what looked like a set of slightly thick thermal underwear with a motorcycle helmet. The helmet itself wasn¡¯t too unlike mine, though it was more basic. Plus, mine didn¡¯t have all those wires coming out the inside of it that made it look really god damn creepy.


    Fred poked the suit curiously while asking, ¡°So this thing is gonna control our friend in there?¡±


    Shifting from foot to foot, Wren hesitated. ¡°Um, sort of. When we use the control box and ask him to think about where something is, like those vials, the suit will read the place he¡¯s thinking about and translate that into movement. It only reads the thoughts connected to the question when you use the control box, so he can¡¯t just start thinking about something else and take us to like¡­ McDonalds for lunch or whatever. But even when he takes us to a place, we might have to keep looking around that spot for exactly where they are. I¡¯m not sure how close it¡¯ll be.¡±


    With a nod, I looked to the Tech-Touched girl. ¡°Sounds good, except for the ¡®we¡¯ part. We don¡¯t know where he hid these things, but it could be dangerous. Especially with people still looking for him. I think you and Fred should stay here tomorrow.¡± When her mouth opened to object, I quickly added, ¡°Trust me, Wren, you¡¯ve done more than enough. Seriously. All this wouldn¡¯t have been possible without you. You had the idea, you built this thing, you did it. You¡¯ve done enough. Let me take Happypants out tomorrow and find these vials to finish it up.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s still a ¡®we¡¯ in that,¡± Pack pointed out, watching me with her arms folded. ¡°Remember, this is my boss¡¯s daughter we¡¯re talking about. I¡¯m going with you and taking the vials back to him when we get them.¡± Her voice made it clear she wasn¡¯t taking no for an answer.


    ¡°Right, see?¡± I gestured to Wren. ¡°I¡¯ll have backup. And we¡¯ll stay in contact with you guys back here just in case something happens.¡± Voice softening, I put a hand on her arm. ¡°Wren, it¡¯s okay. Like I said, you¡¯ve done enough. You didn¡¯t really have anything to make up for to begin with, because you¡¯re not the one who sold those things to Ashton. And¡­ and Fred didn¡¯t know what he was going to do with them.¡± Saying that with a brief glance to the man in question, I added, ¡°You guys wait here tomorrow, okay? I swear, we¡¯ll finish this and then we can all celebrate.¡±


    Still looking a bit discomfited, Wren hesitated before giving a slow, reluctant nod. ¡°Okay, I guess. We¡¯ll stay here. But you better keep your phone on, and if something happens, we¡¯re gonna come help.¡± Standing there, fists on her hips, the girl stared as if daring me to object to that.


    Knowing that was the best I was going to get, I nodded. ¡°Great. But uhh, should we test it before tomorrow? Actually, come to think of it, is there a reason we¡¯re waiting until tomorrow? I mean, it¡¯s late enough now that we shouldn¡¯t attract too much attention. And it might take more than one day to actually get to all the vials if he separated them too much.¡± I didn¡¯t know that he had, since he still wasn¡¯t exactly cooperating. But finding out that he¡¯d left that one vial in Wren¡¯s shop had made me nervous that the rest were all scattered in different places. That would suck.


    Unfortunately, Wren shook her head. ¡°The suit still has to charge,¡± she informed me. ¡°It won¡¯t be ready until tomorrow. I mean, it¡¯s all put together and everything, but now it needs power.¡± She indicated the cord running from the mannequin to the outlet. ¡°I couldn¡¯t start charging it until it was all put together. I¡­ sorry.¡± Her foot kicked the floor as she looked abashed.


    ¡°No, sorry, it¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly assured her. ¡°We said we¡¯d do it tomorrow and that¡¯s fine. I was just thinking we could get it started early. One day shouldn¡¯t make a big difference. Especially since Blackjack¡­ got that new vial from Deicide?¡± I looked toward Pack for confirmation of that.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied, ¡°he¡¯s got it. I mean, he¡¯s still not extending the deadline or anything, but he¡¯s got it. And we¡¯ve got time before it¡¯s up anyway. Tonight, tomorrow, it¡¯s all good. Still got days.¡±


    ¡°Right, yeah.¡± Nodding, I looked back to Wren. ¡°That¡¯s cool, because I was also kind of hoping we could talk about something else, anyway. Something a little more¡­ uhh¡­ after this whole thing.¡± Finishing that slowly and hesitantly, I glanced toward Pack, suddenly feeling awkward.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it.¡± The La Casa Touched waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Can¡¯t have the big, bad villain hearing all about your future plans. I¡¯ll go check on the prisoner and make sure he¡¯s ready for his big debut tomorrow. You have your little confab and call me when it¡¯s over.¡±


    She went over and entered the room that was functioning as Ashton¡¯s cell, closing the door after herself. Meanwhile, Wren and Fred both looked to me with a mix of confusion and expectation.


    Taking a second to collect my thoughts (I¡¯d been going over this in my head for awhile), I finally exhaled and nodded decisively. ¡°Okay, so I was thinking about what was going on with you guys. You know, the bit about how you need money. Probably even more now that Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s people got into your old shop and trashed it. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re planning on going back there or what. Personally, I¡¯d really suggest not, at least for now, because those assholes know a Tech-Touched lives there. So if you go back and they find out about it, you¡¯ll probably be dealing with people coming after you like¡­ constantly. I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just¡­ they will. You¡¯re a kid and they¡¯ll think they can like¡­ mold you or whatever. They¡¯ll think they can force you to do whatever they want, so they¡¯ll keep trying to grab you. Or grab Fred to make you do it.¡±


    For his part, Fred looked like he was about to say something, then just sighed and nodded. ¡°He¡¯s right, I really screwed the pooch with this one, kid. They know you¡¯re out there now, and they¡¯ll keep trying to come after you. We can¡¯t go back to the old place anytime soon.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s Dad¡¯s shop,¡± Wren protested, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between us. ¡°We can¡¯t just abandon Dad¡¯s shop. We have to go back and clean it up. We have to open it again. Dad wouldn¡¯t just let it stay closed. He built it. We can¡¯t just¡­ just abandon it forever.¡±


    ¡°No one¡¯s saying abandon it forever,¡± I assured her quickly. ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t go back until you¡¯ve got good defenses, enough to make sure people can¡¯t just waltz in and hurt you or Fred. Trust me, I¡¯ve heard lots of people say that the one place you don¡¯t want to attack a Tech-Touched is their own home. But you don¡¯t have the resources or funds yet to build up the place to be that protected.¡± Pausing briefly, I glanced away to ask myself if I really wanted to do this. Of course, the answer was yes. I needed to do this. It was the best chance I had, and also the best chance Wren had.


    ¡°So I want to help. But¡­ I also want your help. See, I have some money, and I thought if I sort of¡­ invested in you, it could help both of us. I give you money to buy supplies and design things, then we both profit when you sell them.¡± Quickly, before she could object, I added, ¡°Just the ones you choose to sell. The things that are safe. Hell, it could even be stuff that people bring to you to fix. You repair it, charge for it, we make money and put it toward getting you built up as much as you need to be to get back to your shop safely. Or whatever you decide to do.¡±


    Slowly, Wren pointed out, ¡°We could build stuff for you too. A better costume, tools, and stuff like that.¡± Seeming to suddenly realize that what she¡¯d said might¡¯ve been insulting, she hurriedly added, ¡°Not that your costume is bad or anything. I just mean, umm, you know, it¡¯d be¡­ better?¡±


    Smiling despite myself, I held up a hand. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I get it. Yeah, I was kinda hoping we could work out something like that. You¡¯re an amazing inventor, Wren. You just need some cash to build your business a bit so you can really make some cool stuff. I can help with that. I could invest right now, help you get off the ground, then we both profit later. Literally, with money, and figuratively, with cool new toys and a base that you can actually protect. So, what do you think?¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Wren was staring at me, shifting from foot self-consciously. ¡°You really want to give money to me to build stuff? What¡­ what if it goes wrong? What if no one wants to buy anything I build? What if I can¡¯t get customers? What if I mess it up and you lose all your money? What if I¨C¡±


    Quickly, I interrupted, holding up both hands. ¡°Hey, hey. First of all, you¡¯re an amazing inventor, Wren, like I already said. It¡¯ll be fine. And even if it takes awhile to get off the ground, I won¡¯t really be in any worse shape than I already am. Neither will you. It¡¯ll be okay, trust me.¡±


    Fred was the next to speak, sounding like he wasn¡¯t sure he should even say anything. ¡°How¨CI mean¡­ okay, I¡¯m not asking for actual specifics or anything here, but seriously, how do you have ¡®investing¡¯ money? You helped buy all the shit for that suit over there, and you still have cash to spend? What, did your great-grandmother recently leave you a fortune or something?¡±


    I¡¯d been thinking a lot about how to answer that question, because I knew it would come up at some point. Some part of me had considered just telling them the truth. At this point, I knew I could trust them. Or¡­ Wren at least. And despite his mistake, I was pretty sure Fred had learned his lesson and wouldn¡¯t do something stupid. But not positive. Plus, I didn¡¯t want to put that kind of target or responsibility on them. They had enough to deal with as it was.


    So, instead of telling the whole story, I just shrugged. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s just say I inherited some cash recently and leave it at that for now.¡± It was a lie, of course. But a¡­ relatively minor one. It made me feel bad, yet it also protected Wren from getting a target on her back if she knew who I really was. There was a voice telling me that she could still have a target on her back for not knowing who I was, but I wasn¡¯t sure there was actually a really good answer to this. Later I might tell them more. But for now, I was¡­ being cautious about the whole thing. Maybe too cautious, but as far as I was concerned, that was better than not being cautious enough. This was dangerous.


    ¡°So,¡± I settled on, ¡°I¡¯ve got money to invest and I¡¯d like to do it with you. Partly because it means I¡¯d have an excuse to hang out here more after we¡¯re done with this, and that sounds cool. And because like you said, you could make me a new costume, or pieces of it. Hell, I¡¯m pretty sure I could use anything you put together.¡± Tapping the side of my helmet, I added, ¡°This thing¡¯s already getting banged up from me being thrown around so much. An upgrade would be cool.¡±


    Wren¡¯s head bobbed up and down quickly, the girl looking eager by that point. ¡°Oh! Yeah, yeah, for sure. That¡­ I could¡­¡± She trailed off, eyes looking off into the distance. I was pretty sure there were ideas already rushing through her head about the kind of upgrades and toys she could work on. Her hands were fidgeting like she wanted to write something down, and without saying anything, Fred slipped a pen and a small notebook into them. She turned to scribble on it.


    ¡°She¡¯ll be busy for a few minutes,¡± the man informed me, sounding both amused and proud. Then he focused on me. ¡°Are you serious about this whole investment thing? It¡¯s a pretty big word for someone that¨CI mean..¡± Seeming to realize he had just walked off a verbal cliff, he tried desperately to cartoon run across empty air to get back onto the safety of solid ground. ¡°Not that you¡¯re ¡®just a kid¡¯ or anything, but¡­ I mean, money¡¯s money and all that, and you¡¯re doing plenty of dangerous stuff pretty much by yourself already. It¡¯s just, I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± He made a helpless gesture, looking to me for help. Or at least for an excuse to stop talking.


    So, I gave him one. ¡°Yeah, I get it, don¡¯t worry. And yeah, I know what I¡¯m doing. At least, I¡¯m pretty sure. Can¡¯t be any worse than trying to get investment from people you don¡¯t know anything about, right? I can put in some cash to start, help you guys get going. And you don¡¯t have to rely on a bank loan or anything. Or outside investors who, like I said, you don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know much about you either,¡± he pointed out mildly before nodding. ¡°But more than we¡¯d know strangers. Plus the kid likes you. Which says a lot. Yeah, I mean, if you want to do something like that, I don¡¯t see why not. It¡¯s kinda hard to have any sort of enforceable contract without knowing everyone¡¯s identity, but¡­¡±


    Wren spoke up then. ¡°We don¡¯t need a contract. We promise we¡¯ll use your money to build stuff for you or stuff to sell and share the profit. Fifty-fifty.¡±


    Smiling despite myself at the brief look that crossed Fred¡¯s face, I offered, ¡°How about we go with sixty-forty in your favor? You¡¯re already the ones building and selling the stuff. Not to mention the fact that I already profit from you building and fixing things for me. Plus you¡¯ll have to pay for stuff like electricity, the property tax, any other incidentals, stuff like that. I¡¯ll help with that too anytime you need, but you know, you should still be prepared for it with the extra.¡±


    ¡°The hell kind of kid are you?¡± Fred demanded, squinting at me.


    ¡°The kind who knows that having a business costs money, especially when you¡¯re getting started,¡± I replied coolly. ¡°So let¡¯s do it like that. Sixty-forty for you guys, and we make up the difference with equipment maintenance. Does that¡­ you know, sound fair?¡±


    Wren spoke up quickly. ¡°Uh huh! This is gonna be so cool!¡± Suddenly, she was hugging me. ¡°We¡¯re gonna be superhero partners, Paintball! I¡¯ll be like your Q! Which isn¡¯t really a superhero thing, but still!¡± Giddily, she bounced up and down a bit, still holding on tight.


    Restraining the giggle that tried to sneak out, I returned the embrace. ¡°Except for the part where you¡¯re cooler than Q, yeah, just like that. But really, we can talk about the specifics later, after we deal with this whole thing. I just wanted to find out if you guys were interested. I¡¯ll work on putting some money together and we¡¯ll see where we can go with it, cool?¡±


    They agreed, and Fred went to retrieve Pack. Honestly, she hadn¡¯t really needed to leave, but I wasn¡¯t sure where all that would go at the time and wanted to be safe. For both our sakes.


    ¡°So,¡± the girl started as soon as she was back in the room, ¡°you guys work out how to split your profits from Paintball¡¯s investment?¡± In response to all of us staring at her, she turned to look to her lizards in their cage, her tone teasing. ¡°See? They think I¡¯m dumb.¡±


    Flushing (and glad they couldn¡¯t see it), I started to say that we definitely didn¡¯t think she was dumb. But in mid-sentence, my phone buzzed. Holding up a finger, I pulled it out to look at the text. It was from Mom, asking if I could come home soon because she and Dad had something to talk about. Something to talk about? We¡¯d already had dinner and everything hours earlier before they went to their meeting. What could they want to talk about?


    Realizing there was really only one way to find out (and trying in vain to clamp down on all my paranoia surrounding it), I excused myself with the promise to come back the next evening so we could finally get those vials. Then I headed out.


    The whole way back, as I made my way to another part of the city away from where the bookshop was (just in case), I kept asking myself why my parents might want me to come home to ¡®talk.¡¯ My paranoia about the whole thing was just getting worse, and continued doing so while changing clothes, summoning an Uber, and throughout the ride. The logical part of me was almost positive that it didn¡¯t have anything to do with my extracurricular activities. The problem with that was the almost part.


    Still, I told myself it was fine. I couldn¡¯t panic every time my parents said my name. I¡¯d die of a heart attack inside of the week.


    Paying the driver after being dropped off at the gate, I put in my code and headed inside as it creaked open. A minute later, I went through the front door, starting to text my mother to let them know I was there. But both Mom and Dad were already in the front foyer, seemingly waiting. That¡­ did nothing to calm my nerves, to be honest.


    ¡°Oh, uhhh¡­ what¡¯s up?¡± I tried to sound casual. It probably didn¡¯t work.


    The two of them exchanged glances, doing one of their ¡®silent conversations¡¯ that, at this point, I wasn¡¯t sure weren¡¯t actual conversations. Who knew what kind of tech they had access to, or what other powers my dad might have as Silversmith that he didn¡¯t advertise.


    Either way, it only lasted for a moment before Mom turned back to me. ¡°Cassidy,¡± she started carefully, ¡°your father and I understand that what we¡¯re going to ask of you might be difficult¡­¡±


    Oh God, were they about to tell me what they were really doing, who Dad really was? Wait, why would it be about asking me something? What?


    Mom continued and I forced myself to focus. ¡°But we¡¯re hoping you might¡­ open your rooms for a little while, and¡­ accept a¡­ house guest.¡±


    I stared at her, confused. My head tilted. ¡°Uhhh¡­ wait, what?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± my dad called, raising his voice enough to make it clear he wasn¡¯t talking to me. ¡°You can come in.¡±


    Still clueless, I looked over as a small Latina girl slowly came in through one of the other doors. She looked even more lost than I felt, slowly shuffling her way over near my parents while staring at the floor. She peeked up once, met my gaze, then quickly looked down again.


    ¡°Cassidy,¡± Mom started, ¡°this is Izzy.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to be staying with us for a little while.¡±

 Showdown 7-02

    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry,¡± Izzy was saying about fifteen minutes later as I walked with her through the house. The kid looked like she was trying to disappear into the too-large hooded sweatshirt she was wearing, her voice a quiet mumble. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to barge into your home and take over.¡±


    Blinking sidelong at her, I shook my head. ¡°Trust me, you¡¯re not taking over anything. We could put up a whole football team here and not run out of room. And I¡¯m including the coaches and support staff in that.¡± With a wink, I added, ¡°Seriously, it¡¯s no big deal. I just, um, are you okay?¡±


    The answer really seemed like no, though she just offered me a clearly self-conscious shrug while murmuring an almost inaudible, ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± There was no conviction behind her words. Whatever else she might be, the girl was not a very good liar. Something was wrong, but I had no idea how to ask what exactly.


    Seriously, how did I bring up, ¡®So is my family putting you up because they killed your parents in their supervillain personas or something?¡¯ It was hard to carefully segue into something like that.


    All my parents had said was that there were some private issues involving Izzy¡¯s family and that the authorities had asked if we could put her up in the safety of our place for a bit while it was sorted out. And that Simon and I were not to let anyone know there was anyone new living with us. We were strictly ordered to stay quiet about Izzy. Dad had also made it clear that I shouldn¡¯t push too far or be very nosey about it. Which, of course, just made me even more curious.


    ¡°Technically, there are nine bedrooms,¡± I informed the girl while walking up the stairs. ¡°But that¡¯s pretty misleading, because almost every bedroom has a couple other rooms attached to it. My rooms are up here on the third floor, east wing. There¡¯s the main bedroom where I sleep, the bathroom attached to it, a playroom right across the hall, a study room next to the playroom, and this other room next to the bathroom that isn¡¯t really used for anything. I¡¯m not sure what it was supposed to be for, but it¡¯s empty. That¡¯s the room Dad said they were bringing in a bed to.¡±


    As I explained that much, we passed my own bedroom, and I had a moment of paralyzed indecision. Would showing her my room come off as showing off when she clearly wasn¡¯t accustomed to anything like that? Would not showing her come off as if I wanted to keep her out? I had no idea what to do about it or how to be a good tour guide of my own home.


    My parents¡¯ home, I reminded myself. I¡¯d done nothing to earn a place in this house. And, given I had some vague idea of how we¡¯d gotten it, I was pretty sure I didn¡¯t want to do anything to earn a place in it. That was why I¡¯d started up with the idea of investing the money I had both from my (rather absurd) allowance and savings into Wren¡¯s business. At least then, even if the source of the money was still bad, it would be going to a good cause. And I wouldn¡¯t have to feel quite as bad about the money that came out of it. It might help me become a little more self-sufficient. Which¡­ I had a feeling might be important at some point in the future.


    Finally, I decided that ignoring it and acting like I didn¡¯t want her in there or seeing it was worse, even if barely. So, I pushed open the door and gestured. ¡°This is my room. You can come in any time I¡¯m not, you know, sleeping or changing or whatever.¡± I wasn¡¯t worried about her finding my costume or anything, considering I already had to be careful not to let Jania or one of the other maids find it. When I was at home, the costume was hidden in a bag under a couple floorboards I had pried up with the help of some purple paint. The floorboards were themselves under a big heavy mirror in my (enormous) closet, which I also had to use purple paint to even move out of the way so I could get my costume out. The odds of Izzy accidentally finding it were¡­ okay, I wasn¡¯t going to tempt the universe by thinking anything else. But still, it was pretty safe.


    I showed the girl through my room, then over to the ¡®playroom¡¯ so I could show her how to work the remote for the TV and game systems if she wanted. After that, I took her through the bathroom and showed her the whirlpool tub and separate shower before continuing on to the far door. ¡°And your room,¡± I announced while tugging it open. ¡°It¡¯s ahhh¡­ there¡¯s not much.¡±


    Sure enough, the room was still empty. It was about half the size of my bedroom, which still left it pretty good sized, as far as I knew. My bedroom was a little smaller than one of my classrooms at school. So yeah, pretty big.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Izzy¡¯s voice was small and quiet, the girl slowly stepping into the room to look around in obvious awe. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s¡­.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s kinda empty, I know,¡± I managed as she trailed off. ¡°But like my dad said, they¡¯re bringing in a bed right now. And we¡¯ll get some¡­ I¡­¡± Pausing, I stared at her. The girl was looking away from me, arms crossed over her stomach as if it hurt. A single tear had fallen partway down her cheek, though from the look of the wetness in her eyes, there were a lot more she was holding back.


    ¡°I¡­ um, I know we don¡¯t know each other,¡± I started a bit awkwardly and uncertainly. ¡°But if there¡¯s anything you want to¡­ I don¡¯t know, talk about or even just have someone listen. I can do that.¡± Boy did it sound dumb and condescending coming out of my mouth. I had no idea what else to say, though. What was going on? Who was this girl? Why was she here? What happened? I had all these questions, but no way to ask them. At least, not without being rude. And seeing this girl standing there, valiantly trying not to cry as she stared at a blank wall, made the idea of being even a little bit rude to her seem utterly repugnant.


    There was a brief pause as Izzy just stared at that wall before she slowly turned her head to glance at me. For a second, I thought she might actually say something important. It looked like she wanted to. But in the end, the girl just gave a short shake of her head, mumbling, ¡°Thanks.¡±


    Right, she had absolutely no reason to actually trust me. Before I could say anything, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching made me poke my head out the doorway. Sure enough, a couple workers (they normally did gardening stuff outside, I was pretty sure) were headed this way carrying the empty bed frame. Still, even empty, it was a pretty big frame. These guys were strong.


    Stepping back, I motioned for Izzy and the two of us moved so the guys could haul the frame into the room on its side (it barely fit through the doorway, which said something about how big the doorway was considering the frame wasn¡¯t exactly small). They brought it in, set the bed down near the far wall, then went out to grab the mattress and box springs. Meanwhile, I looked to the other girl. ¡°Hey, you wanna get some ice cream while they do that?¡±


    She seemed to perk up a little bit, before an obvious flash of guilt and uncertainty crossed her face. There was a brief hesitation before she seemed to set her chin, giving a slight nod. I had no idea what had been going through her mind just then, and pushing felt wrong. So, I just led her out, waving to the men and calling a thank you to them (Izzy did the same) before heading back down to the kitchen. There, I showed her where the ice cream was kept. There were eight different flavors kept in gallon buckets, along with the toppings. We made a couple sundaes before going to sit at the table in the smaller dining room, the one that only sat ten people. The two of us sat next to each other, eating our ice cream in silence for a minute before I spoke up. ¡°You see that button over there? That¡¯s the intercom to the kitchen. You press that and you can ask the cooks for food during the day. There¡¯s someone in there from about six in the morning until about eight at night. If you don¡¯t know what¡¯s available, there¡¯s a menu on the wall there next to it. They update it once every couple weeks. And if you want something special, they¡¯ll usually get it for you if you ask nicely.


    The girl was just staring at me, spoon with mostly-melted ice cream halfway to her lips. ¡°You order food in your own house like a restaurant?¡± Her voice was a hushed whisper, clearly baffled.


    Blushing self-consciously, I offered her a helpless shrug. ¡°I¨Cum, I guess so? Sorry, it¡¯s weird, huh?¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°A little weird,¡± the girl agreed, before she too blushed deeply. ¡°I mean, not that you¡¯re wrong or¡­ or¡­¡± Sighing, she looked at her bowl while offering a mumbled, ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s right or wrong anymore.¡±


    That sounded like a potential opening to ask her what had happened to bring her here. But before I could, Simon came in. ¡°Hey, munchkin and guest munchkin,¡± he started, taking a chair out and turning it around to sit in it the wrong way. ¡°You get all sorted out?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re putting the bed in,¡± I answered when it was obvious that Izzy was hesitating. ¡°We¡¯ll have to get more stuff tomorrow when the stores are open. I¨C¡± Pausing, I glanced to the girl beside me. ¡°Do you have¡­ uhh, more clothes or anything?¡±


    It was the wrong thing to say. I saw her cringe, head dropping a bit before she offered a weak, ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°We will have more clothes brought tomorrow.¡± That was Mom, coming into the room briskly before gently touching Izzy¡¯s shoulder. I saw the girl flinch before the hand was quickly removed, and Mom continued. ¡°They will have everything you need, and you may pick from as many styles as you like. For the time being¡­¡± Lifting a bag in her other hand, she extended it to Izzy. ¡°I had Sterling run a quick errand. You should find something in here that will fit for you to sleep in this evening and another to wear tomorrow.¡±


    There was a little more back and forth, but it was obvious that Izzy was tired and kind of¡­ lost. She didn¡¯t want to talk very much. So, I took our bowls back to the kitchen when we were done, sprayed them out in one of the sinks, and headed back upstairs with her. Gesturing once we were up there, I offered, ¡°You can use the shower first. And don¡¯t worry about taking all the hot water or anything, you could run the shower all day long and be fine.¡± With a little smile of encouragement (I hoped it was encouraging anyway), I added, ¡°Or you could use the tub. Whichever you want. I could show you how to set up the jets. They¡¯re pretty great.¡±


    Again, I saw a tiny smile start to appear before she cringed, clearly at the thought of actually smiling. Whatever had happened, it really messed this kid up. I wanted to ask her about it, especially if my parents were involved. But all I could do was tell her that I was there if she wanted to talk, which I¡¯d done already. Saying anything further would be pushing things.


    So, I just left her to use the shower or bath and walked into my own room, taking the time to close the connecting door into the bathroom before heading over to fall into my bed face first.


    What the hell was going on? Who was this girl, why was she here, and why were my parents taking care of her? It was like she was in some kind of witness protection program or something. Hell, for a second, I¡¯d thought she might be Blackjack¡¯s daughter. But I was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t. For one thing, she didn¡¯t seem sick at all. Sad and alone, yes, but not sick.


    The point was, I had a lot of questions. And no real way of getting answers without pushing the girl in the next room far more than was probably safe or polite. But hey, at least I would be going out to get those vials tomorrow. That would, hopefully, finish up at least one of the problems I was dealing with.


    I just had to hope that nothing went wrong. Because I was pretty sure things were going to get even more busy around here than I could imagine.


    ******


    Right, it was the next day. Which meant it was finally time to use that suit to find the rest of the vials, so Blackjack¡¯s daughter could be safe and I could be done with all of that. Or at least, it would be time, once I got through the actual school part of the day. Being the first school day after everything that had happened at the Reformation Ball, I didn¡¯t dare skip it. No matter how much I wanted to. And I really wanted to. But skipping school at this point, even after calling in an excuse, felt like courting trouble. No, I had to be patient, even if it was excruciating.


    At least I managed to be somewhat distracted by the fact that Jae, Amber and I were finishing up the last of our project. We would be presenting it the next day, so hopefully we were ready. We¡¯d done as much work as we could, even if I felt a bit guilty about being so distracted. School was important, and I didn¡¯t want to let down my project partners. It was just¡­ yeah. Lots of things going on. But I was pretty sure it was okay. We¡¯d finished writing up the report, and tomorrow we would present it to the class. And by then, with any luck, I¡¯d be done with Blackjack¡¯s thing as well because his daughter would have all her medicine.


    Fingers crossed, anyway. I¡¯d been literally doing that all day, every time I thought about what I was going to be doing after school. I was doing it then, as I walked out of the building. Which was when the phone that I used for Touched stuff buzzed. I¡¯d kept it on me all day just in case there was a problem with the suit. But when I dug it out quickly, fumbling a bit, the message wasn¡¯t from Wren or Fred. Or even Pack. Instead, it was a picture from Eits, of that baseball that he¡¯d taken back from his asshole father set up in a glass box on a fireplace mantle. Under the box was a metal plaque with words etched into it, reading, ¡®The Third Ball My Parents Never Wanted Me To Have.¡¯


    Snorting despite myself, I almost tripped. With a smile, I sent back, ¡®You should e-mail that to them.¡¯


    A moment later, he started typing. I was walking slow down the front walk, glancing up to make sure I didn¡¯t bump into anyone. Then the message came in. ¡®E-mail hell, I¡¯m putting a copy in their mailbox.¡¯


    Sending back a laughing emoticon, I blinked up just in time to see Jae and Amber standing out on the sidewalk next to the student parking lot. They were talking to some black guy I didn¡¯t recognize. He was tall and thin, wearing a red sweatshirt and some ratty old jeans. When I got nearer, Amber glanced to me before saying, ¡°With her.¡±


    ¡°With her what?¡± I piped up. ¡°What¡¯d I do?¡±


    It was Jae who answered, after giving Amber a brief look. ¡°Our project.¡±


    ¡°Right, yeah.¡± Amber¡¯s head was bobbing as she gestured to the boy. ¡°We were just telling Damarko here why I can¡¯t blow off school tomorrow. The project. Oh and uhh, Cassidy, this is Damarko Myers. Damarko, this is Cassidy Evans. Of that Evans. Careful, she could probably buy your house with what she finds in her couch cushions.¡±


    Flushing despite myself, I shook my head. ¡°We¡¯re not that rich, knock it off.¡± Then I extended a hand to the boy. ¡°You don¡¯t go here, I take it?¡±


    He shook my hand with a smile showing a row of perfect white teeth. ¡°Nah,¡± Damarko replied casually, ¡°Amber and I did some work together over the summer, so we¡¯re kind of friends. You know, as long as I drive her wherever she needs to go.¡± He was clearly teasing, adding an easy, ¡°And Jae¡¯s here because she makes it so much easier to deal with Amber.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a jerk, you know that?¡± Amber informed him, huffing a little before glancing to the girl beside her. ¡°Jae, tell him he¡¯s a jerk.¡±


    Jae, however, was looking at me. The Albino girl asked, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    For a second, I almost told them about Izzy and how confusing it was to have someone else living in my house. But I stopped myself. No one was supposed to know she was there. Instead, I just nodded. ¡°Oh, you mean¡­ with the¡­ the party thing.¡± They all stared at me, clearly interested and worried. I tried to shrug it off. ¡°Like I said earlier, I mostly just hid in the bathroom down in the suite the whole time. I didn¡¯t¡­ I saw a couple of them from behind and then hid.¡±


    ¡°Smart,¡± Damarko noted. He glanced to Amber and Jae, the former of whom asked, ¡°So we¡¯re okay for tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed. ¡°We¡¯re all good. I¡¯ll be here and we can do our thing. And get an A, damn it.¡±


    ¡°Hell yeah, we will,¡± Amber agreed. ¡°After all the work we¡¯ve put into that damn thing, we better get an A.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°Seriously, you need a ride home, Cass? Cuz trust me, Damarko doesn¡¯t have aaaaaaaanything better to do. Like, at all. Ever.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± the boy retorted, ¡°at some point, I will have something better to do. Then you¡¯ll be sorry.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she agreed with a sly smile, ¡°sorry for whoever you¡¯re busy with.¡±


    Shaking my head at them, I replied, ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. Got some stuff to do. You guys take care. See you tomorrow.¡±


    I turned, and as I walked away, the three started talking again. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Jae looking at me before she turned back to the others. What were they talking about? Why had my name really come up? Because something told me it wasn¡¯t just the project. And it wasn¡¯t about the party thing either, because we¡¯d already talked about that earlier that day. It was something else. Or maybe the past couple weeks had simply left me utterly paranoid.


    Yeah, it was probably just that. And now I had to stop obsessing over something trivial like what three random teenagers were talking about. Because it was time to go meet up with Wren and Pack, and finish this whole vial business once and for all.


    And hope that we didn¡¯t have to pry the vials out of the hands of any more supervillains.

 Showdown 7-03

    We waited until after dark to go out with Ashton. That was just the easiest way to avoid as many issues as possible with people seeing what we were doing. Of course, we tested it on him first, getting him into the suit (against his will) and getting him to walk to various places in the room by asking him to think about the couch, or the television, or his cell, that kind of thing. He wasn¡¯t happy, which he made very vocally clear in the course of cursing us out. Especially once it became apparent that the suit actually worked and that he couldn¡¯t stop himself from walking to the thing we used the control box to tell him to think about. The suit wasn¡¯t fast or anything. He kind of walked at what felt like a snail¡¯s pace, though that was at least partly my impatience.


    In any case, it worked. After that, we just sort of hung out until well after dark, when things had settled down as much as possible. We didn¡¯t want to wait too long (not that we were running out of time just yet, it was just very hard to sit still and be patient when we were so close), so as soon as we felt like it was late enough, we started suiting Ashton up again (we¡¯d taken it off him while waiting so there would be less chance of him being able to damage it somehow). It took me using purple paint along with both Pack and Fred to get it on the guy without hurting either him or the suit itself too much. Tempting as it might¡¯ve been to be rougher, we couldn¡¯t do that.


    Finally, I pushed his leg down into the thing while Fred zipped it up in the back. Once the suit part, which still looked like thick thermal underwear, was securely on him, I nodded to Wren. She pushed a button on the control box, and I heard the snapping sound as dozens of tiny needle-like wires poked through his skin to find his nerves and muscles. It sounded awful the first time I saw it, but Wren had promised that it would only feel like a series of little pinches for him. She¡¯d even put her own arm in the suit and let it clamp down on her to show that it wasn¡¯t that bad, and all she¡¯d done is gasp a little when it happened. I¡¯d tried it then, and she was right. It wasn¡¯t super-fun or anything, but it definitely wasn¡¯t like getting dozens of shots. You could barely feel the wires. The suit did some kind of numbing process when it poked you. So yeah, there was absolutely a series of pinches all the way through the suit, but nothing that bad.


    Not that that stopped Ashton from bellowing and cursing like we¡¯d literally set him on fire, of course. He jerked, struggling to free himself while ranting about how we were torturing him and what kind of hero did I think I was. He also did a whole chorus about how my helping Blackjack meant I was just as much of a villain and that every person he killed or helped kill in the future would be my fault because I encouraged him by saving his daughter and yada yada yada.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I reminded him once the suit was attached and linked up with him, ¡°I told you before, you have no high ground here, none. You want to let an innocent little girl die just to hurt her dad. That is the opposite of the high ground. You¡¯re under water, down in the Marianas trench.¡±


    ¡°And what about all the people it could save?¡± the man all-but spat at me. ¡°If Blackjack loses his nerve, if losing his kid makes him think about all the other people he¡¯s hurt, what if that makes him stop being an evil piece of shit, huh? What about all the people that might survive if he stops being a villain? Isn¡¯t that worth losing one little kid if it saves a bunch of others? What¨C¡±


    Whatever he was going to say next was cut off, as Fred of all people punched him in the face. His head rocked backward with an audible yelp, and I saw blood coming from his nose. He also had a bit of a bruise under his eye. Fred, meanwhile, was rubbing his hand and wincing. ¡°Shit, ow,¡± he mumbled, walking over to the bathroom to run some water over his knuckles.


    Pack and I looked at each other before shrugging. I looked to Ashton. ¡°You had that coming. Now shut up, before someone else loses their temper and hits you. I can¡¯t promise it won¡¯t be me.¡± Reaching down for a box of tissues on the nearby table, I used a few to wipe off his face as gingerly as possible. Yeah, he was a dick, but I knew what had driven him to be like this. Even if I didn¡¯t agree, I could still somewhat sympathize with how losing his friend had broken him.


    Pack and I put the helmet on him, securing it in place. Again, Wren hit the button on the control box, and there was a snapping sound as the helmet linked into his brain. The bit inside the helmet was the most important part, the one we¡¯d taken from the Seraphs. Ahem, the one we¡¯d borrowed from the Seraphs and would absolutely be returning once this was over. Yeah.


    Fred came back, looking embarrassed by his outburst. ¡°You about ready to take this jackass out and finish this so we can all move on?¡± He muttered the words, clearly about as done with this whole situation as I was. We had to get those vials and then turn Ashton in to the police for everything he¡¯d done. I still didn¡¯t know how Blackjack was going to handle Ashton being in police custody. After the guy endangered his daughter, could he possibly just let him sit in prison?


    I had my doubts. But I would just make sure to warn the authorities that Blackjack would want to kill him. After that¡­ well, I¡¯d warn them, that was all I could do.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready,¡± I announced, holding out a hand for the control box. Wren passed it over, and I smiled at her for a second before remembering that she couldn¡¯t actually see the smile. Nor could she see the subsequent blush, as I quickly spoke aloud. ¡°Thanks. You guys gonna monitor things back here?¡±


    Wren¡¯s head bobbed up and down quickly, and she held up a cell phone. ¡°Stay in contact, Paintball. Tell us everything that¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°Soon as we get started,¡± I assured her before nodding to Pack. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s do this.¡± With that, the two of us guided Ashton up and out of the basement. He couldn¡¯t just go on his own for a couple reasons. First, we definitely didn¡¯t trust him with knowing where this place was. There was too big of a chance of him ending up talking to a bad guy about it. So, his helmet was also currently blinding him. That made it somewhat harder for us to expect him to be able to walk anywhere. Plus, the suit wouldn¡¯t actually let him move very well on his own. It severely limited his range of motion so he couldn¡¯t just run off or attack us.


    Similar to the special staydown cuffs, however, if other people were guiding him, he could move slowly. So I led him up the stairs, announcing each step on the way so he wouldn¡¯t trip, while Pack followed behind to help with that.


    On the way up, the man kept talking. His voice, muffled by the helmet, alternated between pleading and threatening. I really don¡¯t think he expected us to take it this far. But what else were we supposed to do? I refused to let a kid die just so he could stick it to Blackjack. If that meant strong-arming him to this extent to force him into showing us where the vials were hidden, so be it. Yeah, it made me a bit uncomfortable. But I¡¯d take feeling uncomfortable over letting a kid die just so he could spite someone he hated. How justified that hate happened to be was irrelevant when it came to letting a child die, period. To paraphrase a certain cop show I¡¯d seen before, having a cool motive to murder was still murder.


    To give us some peace and quiet without Ashton bitching the whole time (and also to make sure he didn¡¯t try to play any games with alerting passersby or claiming we were abducting him, Wren had included a mute function in the helmet. It wouldn¡¯t let any sound escape. I enabled that, silencing the man before we reached the parking lot.


    Once there, Pack and I looked around, making sure the lot was still empty before I murmured, ¡°I guess keeping where Wren¡¯s place is secret from you kind of went down the tubes awhile ago. But still, I hope¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to go blabbing about it,¡± she informed me flatly. ¡°I like the kid too, Paintball. Blackjack isn¡¯t in the habit of forcing anyone, let alone kids and even further Tech-Touched, to work for him. It¡¯s a seriously bad idea on several levels. But even if he was, like I said, I like the kid. She¡¯s safe, okay?¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± I felt like I could trust Pack by that point. Especially when it came to something like that. She might¡¯ve been okay with stealing from people, but hurting kids was totally beyond her level of villain. And, for that matter, I thought she was probably right about Blackjack.


    Letting it go at that, I asked, ¡°Got your friends?¡±


    ¡°In the car.¡± She nodded toward the nearby red sedan that Wren had apparently fixed up for her to use. The lizards were in there, apparently. I saw the one I recognized as Riddles the bearded dragon sitting up on the dash, staring at me through the window. I waved, before the other girl and I guided Ashton that way. It took a few seconds to get him situated in the back seat, then I took the front passenger side (Riddles dropped down into my lap and I scratched her head), while Pack took the driver¡¯s side. A moment later, we were pulling away.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The spot we drove to wasn¡¯t too far away, but we did drive for a longer time than we needed to. In order to throw off any chance of Ashton being able to figure out where Wren¡¯s place was, Pack took a few random turns, drove in circles a bit, doubled back, went through a few parking lots, stopped in the middle of an open street (when no one was behind us) as if waiting for a stop sign or traffic light that didn¡¯t exist, and so on. When we finally stopped, it was technically only a few blocks from where we¡¯d started, but we took about ten minutes or so to get there.


    Pulling Ashton out of the car, I disabled the blinding effect and let his visor turn clear once more. His eyes were wide as they darted around, taking in his new location. We were in the parking lot of a self-serve car wash. Actually, at the moment we were actually in the car wash. It was a good way of being out of sight for the moment.


    Pack and I put a long coat on him to cover up the suit. Then I nodded to her. ¡°Right, I¡¯ll keep you updated,¡± I promised, looking over at our guide for the evening. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±


    She moved beside the car, already calling Wren. A moment later, my own phone buzzed, and I accepted the conference call. I already had the phone linked to the mic I was using to alter my voice, so that was all set. ¡°Wren, you good back there?¡±


    ¡°Trevithick,¡± she informed me. Before I could ask what the hell that meant, the girl amended, ¡°My name. You should call me Trevithick. If everyone else gets a cool codename, I do too.¡±


    Blinking at that, I looked over to Pack, who shrugged at me. ¡°Err, sure. Does the word mean something, or¡­¡±


    There was a giggle from the other end of the line, before she explained, ¡°Trevithick was the name of the guy who created the steam locomotive. He basically invented the train. Plus, it¡¯s a funny name. And he was really cool. He said that people called him insane and that he deserved to hang for what he created, but that even if that was the only reward he ever got from the public, he¡¯d still be satisfied by the pleasure and pride he felt just from knowing that his invention would push everything forward so much. He said no matter how poor he might end up being, no one could take away the honor he felt at being useful.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± I blinked again, that time from being impressed rather than confused. ¡°Okay then, Trevithick it is. You ready back there?¡±


    ¡°All good,¡± she assured us. ¡°Right, Fred? He nodded. He has chicken in his mouth, so he can¡¯t talk. I don¡¯t think I was supposed to say that. Oh, right, just, uhh, keep telling us what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Snickering despite myself, I nodded to Pack, then looked to Ashton. ¡°Right, dude, here we go. See, walking all over town with you would take too long. So we¡¯re going to shortcut this whole thing.¡± To that end, I first told him exactly where we were, the address and a description of the area just in case he wasn¡¯t that great with directions. Once he knew the location, I took the control box, hitting the button. ¡°Now, think of where the nearest vial is.¡±


    He was clearly struggling not to. But it was no use. Wren did good work, and he immediately turned to start walking out of the car wash. I gave Pack a thumbs up, heading after the guy while she got back in the car. ¡°Okay,¡± I announced for both her and Wren over the phone, ¡°he¡¯s heading¡­ south on Rosa Parks. Making the jump.¡±


    Using the control box, I told Ashton to stop. Then I put one arm around him, gave myself a bit of extra strength with purple paint, and used my other hand to shoot a spray of red paint off toward the roof of a building across the street. With a grunt, I let it yank both of us up that way. Once we were almost there, I cancelled the paint before shooting another bit toward a metal bit that stuck up further onto the roof and let that yank us the rest of the way.


    After landing, I did the same thing across the next couple rooftops, going about six blocks that way while keeping the others updated. Once I saw a decent, mostly empty parking lot behind an old apartment building, I brought us down. Then I used the control box and told Ashton exactly where we were before repeating the order to think about the same vial he¡¯d been focused on before.


    Again, he began walking immediately. And again, he clearly wasn¡¯t happy about it. But I was done pleading with him to do the right thing. So, we were doing it this way.


    I kept doing that, narrowing down just where this first vial was by going several blocks at a time, setting him down, and seeing where he started walking next. At one point, we overshot, because he started walking back the way we¡¯d come from. Which narrowed it down even more. It was like playing hot and cold, sort of.


    Eventually, we ended up in front of an old coin operated twenty-four hour laundromat. There was no one inside, so Pack pulled in and we had Ashton lead us right in. He went to one of the machines before I stopped him. Then Pack and I searched around the thing for a couple minutes until she found the vial duct taped to the back of it, up underneath a bit.


    ¡°Another one down,¡± she announced, holding it up with what sounded like a grin behind her featureless black mask. ¡°Blackjack has two, this makes three. We¡¯re halfway there.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯re getting the rest tonight,¡± I murmured with a glance toward Ashton. ¡°See, we can do this just like we got that one. Or you can make the whole thing easier by just telling us where the rest are. Then we can be done with this. You hurt Blackjack, man. You scared him. Give it up now.¡±


    I unmuted him, and he stared at me for a few long seconds. His mouth stayed closed, but his lips kept moving, like he was working himself up to reply. But in the end, after waiting through it, all he said was, ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°He said no, didn¡¯t he?¡± Wren¡¯s voice asked through the phone.


    Sighing, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, he said no. So, we keep going.¡±


    And we did. For the next couple hours, I took Ashton all around the freaking city just to get two more. He¡¯d hidden the vials as far as he could while staying within Detroit, it seemed. They were all in out-of-the-way spots that he could easily get to at any time of day.


    Finally, we only had to get the last one. Pack had two of the vials in the car jockey box and another in her hand, toying with it curiously, as we stopped in front of what was apparently the last place. It was a supermarket, one open twenty-four hours. Apparently the last vial was in there somewhere. Pack and I looked at each other while standing at the back of the lot next to the car. ¡°We could wait until no one¡¯s there,¡± I pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s not that busy now. We hold off for like an hour, it¡¯ll be empty except a few employees. Then me and our buddy here can go in and grab it.¡±


    She started to nod, then looked past me and cursed. ¡°Motherfucker. Isn¡¯t that¨Cshit!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I blurted, confused. ¡°What¨C¡± Reflexively, I whipped that way, just in time to see movement in the sky across the street. A figure there was flying away out of sight, carried on enormous wings. ¡°The hell was¨C¡±


    ¡°Yahui,¡± Pack replied shortly, already shoving the vial she had into her pocket before yanking out a different phone from the one we were using to keep in contact with Wren. ¡°It was Yahui. She was watching us. Probably been following us for awhile.¡±


    Yahui. That was one of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s people, one of Oscuro. She had the ability to manifest basically any animal part on herself at any point, mixing and matching as much as she wanted to and gaining the abilities related to those particular animal parts. If she was following us, she could have seen or heard anything depending on what animal eyes and ears she was manifesting at the time. This was bad. This was really bad.


    ¡°Go!¡± Pack gave me a shove. ¡°I¡¯m calling in reinforcements. Go get the vial.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m coming!¡± Wren called through the phone.


    ¡°No!¡± Quickly, I shook my head, using the control box to order Ashton to go to the vial before addressing Wren again. ¡°Stay there, we¡¯ll get this and get out of here. Just wait. We¡¯re almost done.¡±


    Rather than let Ashton stall by walking, I grabbed him and painted us right up to the store. A guy coming out stopped and stared, while I shoved Ashton through. ¡°Sorry, sir,¡± I blurted, ¡°but I really suggest you get out of here, fast!¡± That was called over my shoulder while I dragged Ashton through the front of the store, pausing just long enough to see where he started moving before dragging him again.


    We attracted attention. Because of course we did. But I managed to get to the ice cream aisle, finding the vial itself hidden way in the back, taped up under the top shelf. Yanking it out, I felt a surge of triumph.


    Then I heard Pack through the phone. ¡°Problems,¡± she informed me. ¡°More problems. A bunch of Oscuro vans just pulled up. I barely got out of sight. I¡¯m working on getting my pals in fighting shape.¡±


    ¡°How long til your other friends get here?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s another part of the problems,¡± came the terse response. ¡°Double Down says one of our main safe houses just got attacked by other Oscuro troops, right out of the blue. Oscuro troops and Ninety-Niners, working together. And¡­ yeah, some Ninety-Niners just showed up outside here. They¡¯re talking in the lot. Definitely working together. And¡­ shit. There¡¯s people in the back too. They¡¯ve got you cut off and pinned in there. And¨C¡±


    ¡°And your people are busy,¡± I finished, thinking fast. ¡°Hold on. I¡¯ll call back, just wait.¡± Disconnecting, I quickly fumbled through my coveralls until I found the card That-A-Way had given me, frantically dialing the number on it.


    ¡°It¡¯s That-A-Way,¡± the by-now familiar voice greeted me a couple rings later. ¡°I always love saying th¨C¡±


    ¡°This is Paintball,¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°Our old trucy ally and me, we¡¯re at the Huey¡¯s on Park West. Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners are about to come in guns blazing to get the stuff Blackjack¡¯s been tearing apart the city looking for. So, you know, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re busy or anything, but a little help would be great.


    ¡°And, uhhh, you probably better hurry.¡±

 Showdown 7-04

    Okay. Okay. So, what was my current situation? Well, I was inside a grocery store with a few random customers and employees. Pack and her lizards were outside, working on shifting into a more combat-capable force. Also outside were a combined force of Oscuro and Ninety-Niners, who had apparently banded together in an attempt to hurt Blackjack and the rest of La Casa. Meanwhile, the bulk of the La Casa people were under attack by more of those combined forces to keep them busy. Which would also undoubtedly draw the attention of any authorities and Star-Touched who were out to keep them busy as well, so the guys here would have¡­ privacy.


    I¡¯d just finished my terse explanation to That-A-Way and was waiting for her to say something when the line suddenly went dead. Blinking at it, I saw there was no signal. Someone out there was using a jammer, just like the Scion people had back during the party. What the hell, did they start handing out those things as prizes in cereal boxes or something?


    Abruptly, the phone buzzed in my hand with a call coming through, despite having no signal. It surprised me so much that I almost dropped the damn thing, and actually gasped. The ID on the screen said it was Wren, so I answered it. ¡°Wren? How are you calling me, there¡¯s¨C¡±


    ¡°No signal, I know,¡± she interrupted. ¡°I had to use the signal booster I built into the suit Ashton¡¯s wearing. It¡¯ll only work within a few feet, so don¡¯t get too far away yet, okay? Plus I¡¯m not sure how long it¡¯ll last before that jammer overloads it. Are you¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, so far,¡± I replied, looking to Ashton himself. He was standing there, looking torn between fear and delight. Fear at what might happen to him, of course (particularly given the fact he was frozen), along with delight because he thought we wouldn¡¯t get away with the last vial now. ¡°But those guys are gonna start coming inside any minute, as soon as they¡¯ve got this place surrounded. And call me crazy, but I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re not here to pick up milk and bread.¡±


    ¡°Crap, crap, crap!¡± Wren blurted. ¡°I should¡¯ve put that teleport marker on the suit so I could pull you guys out! I meant to, I did, but I was so excited that it was done, and we wanted to get¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Wren,¡± I interrupted while dragging Ashton with me toward the end of the aisle. I peeked out. The front of the store looked clear. None of the bad guys had come in yet. But I kept watching. I needed to get out there, but first things first. ¡°What about the car? Can you, I dunno, use any kind of security feature to keep those guys out of it, just in case? Two of the vials are still in there.¡±


    ¡°I can drive the car out with remote control,¡± she quickly informed me. ¡°But I¡¯m not¨C¡±


    ¡°Do it. Take the car and the vials out of here, Wren. Keep it safe. Pack and I can handle this and keep these guys busy until That-A-Way brings reinforcements. We¡¯ve got it, I promise. But I have to go now. There¡¯s other people in this store, and those guys are gonna break in any second. We¡¯ll deal with this. You focus on getting that car out of here with the vials, okay?¡±


    Reluctantly, she agreed, making me promise to be careful. I did so before disconnecting,  hoping that everything I¡¯d just said wouldn¡¯t end up being wrong. Because despite all my assurances to try to keep the other girl calm, I had no idea what was going to happen here. Pack and her friends were still outside, and there was no way of knowing how long it would take That-A-Way to get anyone here. For the moment, Ashton and I were basically alone in this building, aside from all the innocent people those guys would plow through in order to get to us.


    Just as I tucked the phone and vial deep in my pocket, zipping it shut, one of the store employees came into view. ¡°Uh, hey, something¡¯s going on outside.¡±


    And here it went. Glancing to Ashton, I hesitated before dragging him back a few feet down the aisle out of sight. Then I simply told him, ¡°Hang out here.¡± As if he had a choice, given the suit wouldn¡¯t let him move. But at least I didn¡¯t have to worry about him running off. The suit worked as well for that as stay-down cuffs would have.


    Quickly turning to the store guy, I walked that way while asking, ¡°Those guys outside, the gangs, what¡¯re they doing now?¡± Reaching the end of the aisle, I peeked toward the front doors once more. Nothing. Aside from several customers and employees standing there staring out at something.


    His head shook quickly. ¡°Nothing, not yet. They¡¯re just standing out there, but they¡¯ve got guns and¡­ and there¡¯s Touched with them. But there¡¯s two different gangs, and they¡¯re not fighting.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, cuz we¡¯re a more popular target right now,¡± I muttered, before looking back to him. ¡°Look, grab those people there, and anyone else you can find, somewhere safe to hide for awhile, like the manager¡¯s office or something. Lock the doors and stay there until the cops come. Go!¡±


    It must¡¯ve been the costume or something, but the guy actually listened. He ran off toward the front, saying something to those people, who quickly followed him. Meanwhile, I looked down at myself, summoning more drawings in various colors to the suit. Over the next brief handful of seconds, the images appeared. Images of two guys fighting with swords across my torso, with mountains in the background and a bird flying through the sky overhead. A coiled snake wrapped around a spear decorated my left leg, while a man with a javelin riding a motorcycle took up the right one. My arms were covered in multicolored flames and lightning bolts. Every image had multiple colors involved, multiple paints I could activate when the time came. An entire involved mural of images stretching across my suit.


    By that point, I had walked all the way to the front of the store, where the civilians had been watching from. Sure enough, through the doors I could see a bunch of vehicles out in the lot, blocking the way through. Dozens of gang members stood out there, mostly normal guys armed with guns, but with several Touched mixed in. When the group saw me, they stiffened a bit and a few said something to one another. A couple brought their guns up. Other than that, none of them moved or tried to come after me. They seemed to be waiting for something, or someone.


    Pack was probably lying low for the moment, waiting for a good chance to show herself. Letting out a breath, I took a few slow steps that way, watching the guys outside as they stared at me. The door whooshed open when I was close enough, and I stopped there, lifting my chin while watching for anyone who looked like they were about to shoot. My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest, and I had to focus for a moment to stop my voice from shaking too much.


    ¡°Hey guys, you think you could have your tailgate party somewhere else? I don¡¯t think this store really appreciates you blocking their entrance that much. Kinda scares off the customers.¡±


    Two figures stepped forward, one guy and one girl. The man was instantly recognizable with his red trench coat and welding mask. Coverfire, the guy who had come to Wren¡¯s place before. The woman was another obvious Touched that I recognized from news reports. She wore a costume that consisted of a gray bodysuit with black armor panels and a black metal mask covering the bottom half of her face. She was part of the Ninety-Niners, named Ringside. As I understood it, she was a super-strong and tough Touched (A Brawn-Touched, as Flea had taught me) with a twist. Basically, her power allowed her to summon these glowing red rings and throw them. If they hit a person, they would be teleported close to Ringside herself, and both she and the target would be surrounded by a domed forcefield cage of sorts. Within the forcefield cage, Ringside¡¯s own strength depended on how much of their own powers she allowed her opponent to have. She could weaken their powers, remove them, or leave them the same. The weaker or more non-existent they were, the less strength she had. If she left them with all their powers, she would stay at full-strength too, and for her, that was enough to bench press a small car. But even with people who were much stronger than she was, locking them in the ¡®ring¡¯ with her and cancelling all their powers meant they couldn¡¯t rely on any of it.


    With Ringside being part of the Ninety-Niners and Coverfire part of Oscuro, I supposed these two were representing each of their groups. Two groups that, as far as I knew, didn¡¯t exactly get along all that well. Unfortunately, I probably wasn¡¯t lucky enough for them to start fighting each other right now.


    ¡°Seems to me you keep ending up in this kind of situation,¡± Coverfire informed me flatly, his voice somewhat muffled by the welder¡¯s mask. ¡°Should we bother telling you to surrender?¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯d do it if I was you, kid,¡± Ringside put in. ¡°Otherwise, soon as the bosses show up, you¡¯ll wish you had. Cuz I don¡¯t think their leader¡¯s gonna be in the mood to play around.¡±


    Their bosses. That¡¯s why these guys hadn¡¯t charged in yet. They were waiting for their respective leaders to arrive. Hell, the gangs probably didn¡¯t trust each other enough to start something without Cu¨¦lebre and Sandon (the Ninety-Niner leader) around. Though I had no doubt that if I tried to leave, they¡¯d get over that really quick. For the moment, they were content to stand out there and just make sure I didn¡¯t go anywhere. But when their leaders showed up¡­


    Swallowing at the thought of just how pissed off Cu¨¦lebre was at me, I forced myself to reply, ¡°You know, if it¡¯s milk you guys are after, I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re having a great sale at the place just three blocks down. But you better hurry before it¡¯s all gone. You know how crazy everyone in this town gets over milk sales.¡± The fuck was I even talking about?


    ¡°The fuck are you even talking about?¡± Coverfire demanded.


    ¡°Language,¡± Ringside snapped primly. ¡°There¡¯s no need to be crude.¡± To me, she added, ¡°Tell you what, you surrender to me and I¡¯ll make sure that these goons and their psychotic master don¡¯t tear you apart. I¡¯ll even go one step further and promise that when we get what we want, you can go completely free. Scout¡¯s honor.¡±


    Growling angrily at that, Coverfire glared at her. ¡°We have a deal, remember?¡±


    She gave a short nod, dark eyes flicking to him as she calmly replied, ¡°Our deal is to work together to hurt Blackjack and La Casa. Personally, I don¡¯t have anything against this kid. Not yet, anyway. Besides, watching him make your boss chase him all over town for nothing was pretty funny.¡±


    Coverfire flared up his force field briefly at that, but didn¡¯t make a move toward her. I had an idea to maybe try saying something that could make them argue some more or even fight, but before I could, the automatic door suddenly closed between us. A second later, the metal security shield came down.


    For a second, I just stared at it, wondering what the hell was going on. I could hear the guys shouting on the other side that some dinky little metal door wouldn¡¯t stop them, just before a voice came over the intercom system.


    ¡°Paintball, get to the security office. Hurry, I¡¯m pretty sure we don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    It was Eits. Oh God, it was Eits! Spinning on my heel, I ran back through the store, looking around until I saw a sign pointing to the employees area. Booking it that way, I saw Holiday pop her head out of a doorway and look at me, so I headed there.


    Sure enough, Eits was there along with Pack and her animals. They were all in the rather large security office, and as soon as I entered, Eits turned from the computer screen to stare at me. ¡°Whoa, you fancied up your costume. That¡¯s a pretty cool¡ª wait, that¡¯s all your paint stuff, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    I stared at the boy. ¡°How did you get here so fast? Hell, how did all of you get in the store?¡±


    Pack answered. ¡°I texted him as soon as we saw the bitch in the sky. We¡¯re, uh, let¡¯s just say we¡¯re not too far away from his place.¡±


    Eits gave a short nod. ¡°I made it over here and messed with the lights on a couple cars in the back to distract the guys back there long enough for the lizard gang to deal with them so we could get in through the loading dock.¡±


    Brightening at that, I asked, ¡°Great, so we can get everyone out that way?¡±


    He winced, gesturing to the nearby security screen where I could see a view of the back lot. It was full of bad guys. ¡°Turns out they had reinforcements. A lot of them. We just managed to get inside. And now we¡¯re stuck here with you.¡± As soon as he said it, the boy instantly began fumbling over his words, ¡°I mean, not that being anywhere with you feels like being stuck, or like it sucks, or¡­ I mean, that wasn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Raising a hand to stop him, I interrupted. ¡°Believe me, dude, being offended is basically the last thing on my mind right now. What about all the customers and employees?¡±


    ¡°Manager¡¯s office,¡± Pack replied. ¡°They all locked themselves in there. It¡¯s kind of cramped, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll go anywhere anytime soon.¡± She looked to me then. ¡°What about That-A-Way? You were trying to call her, right? Tell me she¡¯s got cavalry on the way.¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± I admitted. ¡°We got cut off before she could say anything after I told her what was going on. Hopefully. But either way, it could take them some time to get here, especially if all those guys are really causing so much trouble in the city. And our friends right outside are just waiting for Cu¨¦lebre and Sandon to show up.¡±


    Pack cursed. ¡°Right, so the only reason they haven¡¯t come in yet is because they¡¯ve got two of the biggest of the big guns heading here to finish the job themselves. And we can¡¯t go anywhere because they¡¯re all standing guard. At least the car took off with the other vials. That had to be the kid, right?¡±


    Confirming that, I exhaled. ¡°So, we¡¯re stuck in here, waiting to see who shows up first, our help or theirs. And call me crazy, but that¡¯s not exactly a bet that I¡¯m super eager to make. Not when losing means facing down a giant demon dragon thing with lightning powers.¡±


    Pack shook her head. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve got a teleporter in your pocket no one bothered to tell me about, what else can we do? Make a run at them wherever there¡¯s the least amount of Touched, break through the line, and run for it?¡±


    Eits grimaced. ¡°I uhh, don¡¯t think that¡¯ll work. I¡¯ve been watching these guys on the cameras and they are amped and ready to go. No way we break through one line before the rest dogpile on top. Not without some kind of distraction.¡±


    Thinking quickly, I replied, ¡°Then we distract them, by getting them to come in here after us.¡± They both stared at me like I¡¯d lost my mind, while I pushed on. ¡°We get them to come in before their leaders get here. We get them to break the line and try to catch us in the store. Then we get out, and we make sure they know we got out so they chase us and leave the people here alone.¡±


    ¡°Fantastic, as long as the random civilians will be safe while we¡¯ve got half the members of two different gangs chasing us,¡± Pack muttered darkly. ¡°If you don¡¯t stop making me do heroic shit, I¡¯m gonna get hives.¡±


    Eits looked back and forth between us briefly before asking, ¡°How do we get them to come in here and break their little line before their leaders show up? Cuz I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve got much time.¡±


    I was about to confess that I wasn¡¯t really sure, when a figure abruptly stepped through the nearby wall. Everyone spun that way, Pack snapping a new shotgun up while Eits also produced a pistol. The lizard creatures were up and moving too.


    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± I blurted, belatedly recognizing the figure. It was Syndicate, leader of the Minority. Or one of his four bodies, anyway.


    He turned solid once it was clear no one was going to shoot him. Or maul him, in the case of the animals. His voice was tense. ¡°Way said you needed help.¡± He glanced to Pack. ¡°And that you helped at the hospital. She didn¡¯t say anything about him though.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s helping and we need him,¡± I said flatly. ¡°Are you guys really¡­¡±


    He nodded. ¡°We¡¯re set up outside, just beyond the lot. Most of us, anyway.¡±


    Pack asked, ¡°Why isn¡¯t That-A-Way popping in here? No offense, she¡¯s just a lot nicer to look at than you. And, you know, she could just teleport us all right on out of here, problem solved.¡±


    Syndicate shook his head. ¡°She and the others came in from the wrong direction. This place is south of them, she can¡¯t teleport, or use speed. She was going to try to work her way far enough around and down, but I told her to wait, because I wanted to see what was going on in here myself. And on the way in, I heard a couple of the guys out there saying that Cu¨¦lebre and Sandon should both be here in ten minutes. So, more explanations can come later. I also heard you talking just now about luring them in and then booking it. You think they¡¯d break ranks if they thought the thing they were after was about to disappear? It¡¯s those supersoldier vials, right? You¡¯re trying to stop the war on the streets from getting worse by getting them back for Blackjack. I get it, whatever. The point is, we make them think they¡¯re about to lose their chance. They didn¡¯t see me when I came in, but if they saw another of me come running, especially if I pretended to say something in my comm about getting the vials¡­¡±


    ¡°They¡¯d chase you in,¡± I realized.


    He nodded. ¡°I can have the other me come in through the front entrance. The others are around the back. Soon as the guys out front break ranks and chase the other me in, my team outside and everyone in here all hit the ones in the back from both sides and book it. With the guys out front already coming into the building, there¡¯ll be confusion all over the place about what¡¯s happening. At least for a few seconds. Should be enough chaos to get everyone to Way so she can teleport. Then we¡¯ll be gone, and they won¡¯t have any reason to stick around here, so the civvies¡¯ll be safe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re not insisting that we stand here and fight the bad guys,¡± Pack observed.


    ¡°Two gangs including their leaders are about to descend on this spot,¡± Syndicate reminded her. ¡°Having a fight here would be stupid both for us, because they¡¯re a lot stronger than the group we can put together, and for the civilians in this store who would be caught in the crossfire. The smartest thing to do is get the thing they want out of the store, make sure they know it¡¯s not here anymore, and get away.¡±


    Eits, who had been silent up to that point, raised a hand. ¡°Uh, just one thing. Once we get out of here, we get to leave.¡± He gestured to himself, Pack, and the lizards.


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t worry,¡± Syndicate assured him with a note of sarcasm, ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll catch you another time. But right now, we don¡¯t have much left before the situation gets a hell of a lot worse. So, are we doing it or what?¡±


    Glancing to the others until they nodded, I turned back to the boy. ¡°Okay then.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±

 Showdown 7-05

    Apparently the Minority communications worked despite the jammer. Probably because they were all within the same area the jammer was affecting or something. Either way, the Syndicate with us was able to talk with the rest of his team outside, including his other selves. They coordinated what was about to happen, doing so with what amounted to a thirty second explanation. And given that we were about to have Cu¨¦lebre and Sandon dropped on our heads, even that felt like too long. We needed to get the hell out of here right freaking now.


    First, I had to go grab Ashton. Vaguely tempting as it might¡¯ve been to leave him here, I wasn¡¯t going to do that. Instead, I moved up to where I¡¯d left him in the ice cream aisle. He was¡­ uhh, yeah, definitely losing his mind. When he saw me, his wild eyes focused and he shouted something that was muffled by the currently transparent visor.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± I dryly replied, ¡°you need to scratch your nose like a son of a bitch.¡± Even as I said it, my hand was pulling the remote out and I quickly hit a couple buttons on it that Wren had told me about. ¡°There, you can move now. But before you try running away, there¡¯s a couple things you should know. First, there¡¯s a whole bunch of guys out there from two different gangs who would love to torture you if you can¡¯t convince them that you don¡¯t have what they want. Or just for fun, because you wasted their time. Not to mention the fact that one of those gangs is the one whose people you used to piss off La Casa in the first place. And second, you definitely can¡¯t get that suit off without Wren¡¯s help, which means that anytime I hit the recall button, you¡¯ll come marching right back to me anyway. I¡¯m not going to unmute you, because we really don¡¯t have time for any more bullshit. But I¡¯m not leaving you here either, so come on.¡±


    There was the briefest of hesitations, before he seemed to deflate a little bit and moved to follow me. I led him to the back of the store quickly, while giving him a brief explanation of what we were going to do. If he had any input on the plan, his facial expression and body language didn¡¯t really depict it. Not to mention the fact that after all the times that he had said he was fine with a little girl dying for his revenge, I wasn¡¯t really interested in his strategy ideas anyway.


    The two of us reached the back storeroom, passing a bunch of heavily-laden shelves before finding the others. As soon as we came into view, Pack put a hand on Mars Bar and pointed to Ashton. ¡°See him? He stays with you. If he tries to go anywhere else besides with you until I say otherwise, rip one of his arms off and try beating him with it.¡±


    While the bearguana growled, Syndicate cleared his throat. ¡°Can we avoid openly discussing criminal acts like torture for a little while? I know I said we¡¯d catch you guys another time, but you really shouldn¡¯t go out of your way to make me regret that. And who are you anyway?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s on vocal timeout,¡± I replied. ¡°But this is Ashton Austin, the guy behind that bank robbery that you guys have all been looking for. When this is over, you can have him. So, you see? You¡¯re not getting out of this totally empty-handed after all.¡±


    He looked back-and-forth between us briefly before simply noting, ¡°If we get out of it. And if we do, we¡¯re gonna have a lot more questions for you.¡±


    ¡°If we do, I¡¯ll see about answering them.¡± With that, I looked over to the nearby closed loading dock doors. ¡°So, are we doing this, or what?¡±


    Syndicate nodded. ¡°Remember the plan. All we need to do is get everyone to That-A-Way and she¡¯ll teleport us out of here. We don¡¯t need to stay and fight. We don¡¯t need to win anything. We just need to get out. And we need them to know we¡¯re gone so they leave everyone in the store alone. We make a break for it, go through any forces we need to, and teleport away. That¡¯s it.¡±


    Eits gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Yeah, trust me chief, some of us aren¡¯t interested in fighting at all. Running away sounds pretty good.¡±


    For a second, it looked as though Syndicate was going to say something about that, before he just shook his head and asked, ¡°Anything else?¡±


    I quickly spoke up. ¡°Yeah, this.¡± Raising my hands, I shot some orange paint at everyone in turn, including the lizard creatures. Two at a time (one with each hand), I hit everyone with a circle of the paint. ¡°There, as soon as I activate this, which I will once we get out there, you¡¯ll be tougher for about ten seconds. Bulletproof tough. And here.¡± For good measure, I added a spot of green paint to everyone as well. ¡°Now you¡¯ll all be faster too. Again, just for ten seconds. You¡¯ll be faster and tougher than they expect. Just use it to get to That-A-Way.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± Eits intoned in what sounded embarrassingly like awe. ¡°Support classes kick ass.¡±


    Flushing under the helmet, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal, really. If we had more time, I¡¯d do more, but we¡¯re sort of pressed right now.¡±


    Syndicate looked like he might say something to that, but in the end he just snorted and used his com. ¡°We good out there? Okay. Other me going on three, the rest of us hold until he¡¯s got their attention at the front. One, two, three.¡±


    Even knowing it was coming, I didn¡¯t hear anything at first. I was listening for the reaction and there was nothing. Which made sense, we wouldn¡¯t get anything overt until he made them think he was¡ª


    Aaaand the gunfire started. Suddenly we could hear all those guns coming from out front. It was like someone had unleashed a swarm of monsters from hell. And those monsters were really pissed off.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Syndicate cautioned, holding up a hand. ¡°Wait for it. Wait for them to really commit to it. He¡¯s in the store. Now they¡¯re trying to break through that security shield. They¡¯re breaking it, and¡­ and they¡¯re in! They¡¯re moving through the front! Go, go!¡±


    We went. Eits had control of the security system, and he instantly opened the sealed doors. As planned, he opened all of them, the big rolling doors on all of the loading docks, and the regular-sized doors as well. They all opened as one, and we booked it through the loading door furthest to the left. We weren¡¯t going to take the time to go through one of the regular doors. This way, we could all flood out and run for it. Hopefully, that way this would be less of a shooting gallery for the guys facing us.


    The second the doors were up and we were moving, I hung back just enough to let the others get ahead of me, and activated the orange and green paint I had to put over everyone. Suddenly, we were all moving even faster than our fear and adrenaline had been managing to make us move already. Which, honestly, was saying something.


    It was safe to say that the guys out back were pretty surprised by our appearance. They had been looking around toward the sides at the sound of gunfire from the front, when we suddenly came pouring out of the now open door right in front of them. Only a few of the many who were there managed to start firing immediately. And for that, the orange paint did its job. I saw several of the others take a couple hits that did little more than sting them thanks to the paint. Mars Bar by himself, probably thanks to his size and sheer intimidation factor, was hit a good six or seven times in those first couple seconds. He barely reacted, aside from opening his mouth to give a loud, pants-wetting roar while slamming into three guys at once. They went flying like bowling pins, while a fourth guy tried to open up on the bear with a shotgun. But Mars simply snatched it out of his hand, crumbling the gun like it was made of tissue paper with one paw, before grabbing him in the other and sending the man flying a good twenty or thirty feet with a dispassionate shove that way.


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    Holiday grabbed a guy¡¯s leg and ran off with him, dragging the poor bastard along with her as he screamed. Two other guys tried to shoot at her, but Tuesday and Twinkletoes wrecked them pretty thoroughly on their way past. One was walloped in the back of the head by a nearly invisible gorilla-lizard, while the other took a small, yet really dangerous monkey-lizard fist to the privates. The former was left completely unconscious, while the latter just really wished that he was.


    The first thing I did upon emerging and taking all this in was shoot a spray of blue paint as wide as I could make it around the feet of the group in front of us. Activating it sent them flying in every direction with a collection of screams. Which worked nicely to clear the path of the guys that Mars hadn¡¯t already trampled through.


    Ashton was just behind the bear, apparently having taken Pack¡¯s warning to heart. Or maybe he really didn¡¯t want to be left to deal with all the angry Ninety-Niners after he¡¯d used them in his revenge scheme and figured being behind the giant beast was his best shot. Either way, he was sticking really close to Mars Bar.


    Two guys with guns popped up toward the right. Both were taken down by Syndicate with a quick flurry of motion that I couldn¡¯t even follow that left them on the ground, disarmed. On the opposite side, a guy who popped up with a rifle raised was literally run over by a car that came screaming through the lot, accompanied by the familiar sound of one of Eits¡¯ mites cackling. The car proceeded to spin around, hitting another guy with its tail end during the skid.


    Just ahead, on the far side of the small rear lot where they had been able to crouch out of sight, That-A-Way appeared with another Syndicate, Whamline, Wobble, and Carousel. Not Raindrop though. Maybe she had the night off. Those five, however, were right there, and the path to them was clear for the moment, thanks in large part to the blue paint flinging the vast majority of people out of the way. Unfortunately, just as they came into view and I had a second to think this might be easy after all, there was a blinding flash of light. It faded quickly, but what didn¡¯t fade was the new group of combined Oscuro and Ninety-Niner troops that had suddenly appeared. Long Haul. That had to be Long Haul, the Ninety-Niner Touched teleporter. He¡¯d just dumped a bunch more problems right in front of us.


    Get to That-A-Way. Get everyone to That-A-Way. That¡¯s all we had to do. Two guys who had recovered from their paint-assisted trip were picking themselves and their guns up and turning our way. I sprayed blue again, this time at my own feet, to launch myself up and forward. Twisting in the air just as the pair finished rising and turning, I passed by over their heads. One arm pointed down and one pointed up and back, I sprayed red paint from both. The first hit both men, while the other hit the back of the store we¡¯d just left. Activating it sent them flying up and toward it with a couple screams, just as I landed in a crouch behind where they had been.


    Only then did the green paint run out. And we were almost there. Eits was just reaching the spot where I was, while his mite-controlled car ran down yet another guy that was coming around the corner of the building. I hit him with another bit of green to help him keep moving. ¡°Go, go!¡± I blurted, hitting as many of our side as I could with orange paint to keep them safe while scanning the lot. Ashton was right there with Mars Bar. The Syndicates who were out here were fine, working together to disable a couple more guys who didn¡¯t even know what hit them. More people were shooting, but the orange paint was doing its job. It meant we could focus on moving instead of fighting. Move instead of fight, that was the entire point.


    Most of the people Long Haul had sent in after us were dealing with the Minority. There was a rush of motion and fighting I couldn¡¯t even follow. One of the new arrivals took deliberate aim at me, but I dropped to the ground just before he fired, throwing my hand out to send a shot of white paint onto his arm. Activating it to blind the guy, I used blue paint to launch myself that way, shifting purple onto my arms as I slammed into him to take the guy to the ground. A quick smack to the face knocked him out of the fight.


    But that was just one guy. What had started as a quick run to That-A-Way was quickly devolving into total chaos. I could see the girl herself, trying to help Wobble, Whamline, and Carousel.


    Another flash of white announced the arrival of more bad guys. One was directly behind me, and I spun that way just in time to duck the bat he was swinging at my head. A quick shot of yellow at his chest, accompanied by activating part of the green I¡¯d already prepared on the portrait across my uniform meant that he was suddenly a lot slower, while I was a lot faster. And, thanks to a bit of purple that I also activated, stronger. My hand snatched the bat from his grip in mid-swing, tearing it away from him while my foot lashed out to kick his leg. It was enough to make him start to stumble, before I drove the bat into his stomach and put him fully on the ground.


    Damn it, damn it, just get to That-A-Way! This shouldn¡¯t be that hard, right? We¡¯d cleared the way, we had the advantage of surprise and a distraction up front. All we had to do was get everyone across the parking lot to meet up with her and she could teleport us the hell away. And it was close. Pack and her animals were all-but there, crashing right into the back of the group of newcomers with Ashton on their heels. Eits was using his borrowed car as his own bodyguard to clear a path. We were almost there. Almost there!


    Which, of course, was the moment that something dropped from above. A lithe figure with great eagle-like wings slammed down behind That-A-Way. Yahui, the Oscuro woman who mixed and matched various animal parts. Apparently she¡¯d decided to throw herself into the fight instead of just watching.


    In addition to the eagle wings, she also had a scorpion tail, which lashed out toward That-A-Way. But it went straight through the Minority girl, who was moving south and was therefore intangible. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t help Wobble, who was smacked by the tail moving sideways and thrown to the ground. And given he stood six and a half feet tall, that tail had to be pretty damn strong to knock him down that easily. Yahui tried to follow up by driving the blade of the tail down into him, but Wobble snapped his hand up and I saw a distortion in the air as he sent a wave of vibrations into the tail that knocked it out of the way. That was followed by two of Whamline¡¯s energy ropes, which wrapped around her arms, flinging her into the air before exploding with a burst of kinetic energy that flung her senseless to the ground somewhere off on the other side of the lot. She was down.


    Carousel, meanwhile, had managed to disarm basically all the guys in our path, yanking the guns from their hands as she passed close to them. She also had two cars (miniaturized by her power) floating in orbit around her, which she sent flying at them. The cars regained their full size just in time to crash into the group, scattering everyone that remained.


    Clear, we were clear!


    ¡°Go!¡± I blurted, sending a wide spray of red paint at all the bad guys I could see, before activating it so they were all slammed into one another, crashing into one big heap. Long Haul? Where was Long Haul? I hadn¡¯t seen him at all, aside from the troops he kept sending in. But whatever, he didn¡¯t matter, we just had to get the hell out of here. That¡¯s all, we just had to go!


    ¡°Grab on!¡± That-A-Way was blurting. There, we were there. Everyone was there. We¡¯d made it. The bad guys behind us were still picking themselves up, and we¡­ everyone¡­ yes, everyone was here, even Pack¡¯s creatures. We all grabbed any part of each other we could, my left hand finding Eits¡¯, while my right was grabbed by Ashton. The latter looked at me sharply, fear and relief in his eyes. I knew the feeling. But at least we were¡­


    Nothing happened. That-A-Way was there, we were all holding onto each other and her, but¡­ nothing happened. She frowned. ¡°Wait, hold on. I¨C¡±


    ¡°Did you truly think it would be that easy?¡± The voice. It was familiar. It was terrifyingly familiar. Cu¨¦lebre. He came floating down out of the air on his wings, gliding in to land with disconcerting grace considering his enormous fifteen-foot size. ¡°Did you think I wouldn¡¯t have prepared for a teleportation escape after the way you insulted and embarrassed me last time?¡± He made a tutting sound, while more of the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro troops, both of the Prev and Touched varieties, appeared on all sides of our suddenly surrounded group.


    Before I could move, before any of us could move, that bladed tail lashed out. I had time to yelp, just before it cut straight through my pocket. The vial and my phone fell out. I grabbed the latter, but the vial was caught on Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail and smacked right into his waiting hand.


    ¡°No, no, no,¡± the giant demon taunted with the vial held gingerly between two massive fingers. ¡°You¡¯re not leaving this time. We have too much to talk about.¡±


    ¡°Talk about?¡± another voice echoed, and everyone spun in place to find Blackjack, surrounded by an assortment of his own people (Touched and Prevs alike).


    ¡°I think we¡¯re pretty much done talking.¡±

 Showdown 7-06

    That saying ¡®all hell broke loose¡¯ didn¡¯t apply here. Not because violence didn¡¯t erupt, but because those words in that order utterly failed to really portray just how much violence erupted and just how quickly. Hell didn¡¯t break loose, it was a meteor that suddenly and apocalyptically slammed into the Earth. Followed by several more meteors that came slamming in behind the first because they just couldn¡¯t stand to miss all the fun.


    Honestly, the best analogy I had for it was one time when I had needed to ask Simon something a few years back. I¡¯d gone into his room to find him lying on his bed with his headphones on. Next to the door was his wall-to-wall sound system, so I¡¯d just reached out and hit a button with the headphone symbol on it. Pretty dumb, I know. It turned off the headphones, and suddenly the entire room had been flooded with screaming, earsplitting metal music. It had, with the touch of a button, shifted all that music from being pumped through his headphones to being pumped through the dozen different high-end speakers he had scattered throughout all of his rooms. My ears had practically been ringing for days after that little mistake.


    That¡¯s what this was like. Not that it had been exactly peaceful before, but when the Ninety-Niner and Oscuro troops had surrounded Pack (and her pack), Eits, That-A-Way, Syndicate, Whamline, Wobble, Carousel, and me, the violence had at least paused. Mostly because we really hadn¡¯t stood the slightest ghost of a chance in that position, against those kind of numbers. But now that Blackjack and more of La Casa had, in turn, surrounded the Oscuro and Ninety-Niners, everything just sort of exploded. Violently.


    For me, ¡®violence exploded¡¯ was pretty apt, considering basically the same instant everyone started fighting, just as I dropped my phone back in the pocket that hadn¡¯t been cut open, something hit me. It was Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail. I saw it coming from the corner of my eye, just in time to activate a bit of the orange within the image I¡¯d painted across my costume. Even then, the tail still struck me with enough force that I was lifted clear off the ground and sent hurtling through the air with a belated scream. Flailing, I failed to actually right myself properly before colliding with a dumpster near the corner of the loading dock behind the store. The orange paint meant I didn¡¯t end up with any broken bones (or worse), but I was still dazed, slumping to the asphalt with a low groan as my vision went a little blurry for a moment.


    The fighting, of course, didn¡¯t stop for me. Gunshots and more filled the air, even as I groggily lifted my head to stare in that direction, trying to blink the daze away. Two Ninety-Niner thugs with shotguns were hoisted off their feet, slammed into one another, and hurled away in opposite directions by a couple of Whamline¡¯s coils. Those same coils exploded in front of Coverfire, the concussive force knocking him away from That-A-Way while he was still trying to grab her. An instant later, there was a sharp whistling sound and a narrow distortion in the air slammed into Whamline. It was Silb¨®n, a guy from Oscuro with a dark wide-brimmed hat over a dark gray face mask that left his mouth exposed and ragged clothes.


    Silb¨®n was joined by a couple Oscuro thugs firing guns. They were set upon by Twinkletoes and Holiday. One of the Syndicates was on the ground. Another was shot at several times, but the bullets went through his semi-translucent body. The guy who shot at him was hit by one of those electric shopping carts directed by one of Eits¡¯ mites (going faster than I thought those carts were capable of), just before one of the La Casa troops dove into him, both thugs rolling across the ground as they each fought for leverage against the other.


    Violence. Fighting. More than I could possibly hope to follow. Double Down, Blackjack, Cardsharp, and another member of La Casa named Hardway (a guy who manipulated inertia and motion of himself or things around him) were fighting Cu¨¦lebre and Sandon. The latter wore a modernized suit of armor with a lion¡¯s pelt over the back, its fake ¡®head¡¯ functioning as her helmet and mask. They were all fighting in a jumble of motion and violence. Everyone was. It was all blurred movements, gunshots, powers flying off, the roar of animals and screams of both anger and pain. By the time I dragged myself off the ground, half the people there were down for one reason or another. Some would be down for much longer than others, but either way, the violence was taking its toll. This was too many people with too many powers and weapons in too close of quarters. Even as I took a step that way, my eyes caught sight of Pack and That-A-Way, bumping up against each other just as a figure loomed up behind them. It was another teenager, though definitely not part of the Minority. He wore the completely cliche ¡®inmate¡¯ outfit of a black and white striped prison suit with a black burglar mask and one of those prisoner numbers written across the front of the striped shirt. I had¡­ no idea what his powers were. But before either That-A-Way or Pack could react, his hands grabbed each of them by the shoulders and all three disappeared. The ¡®prisoner¡¯ guy as well as both girls vanished.


    No! No, no, no! Where were they?! What¨C then I realized that Pack¡¯s creatures must have been linked to her or something, because all of them disappeared a second later too. Hopefully, whatever prisoner boy had been doing, he hadn¡¯t planned on that.


    But I didn¡¯t have time to think about it. I didn¡¯t have time to think about anything. Suddenly, just as I saw the group vanish in front of my eyes, a guy grabbed me from behind. It was just some random Ninety-Niner thug. I smelled awful alcohol breath as he yanked me off my feet with an arm around my waist, his other hand groping down my side toward the unruined pocket as he snarled, ¡°Okay, kid, where¡¯s the other vials, huh?! Where are they?!¡±


    That was what it took. Up to that point, since the moment Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail had knocked me thirty feet into the dumpster, everything had taken on a bit of a dreamlike quality. My ears had been ringing, and I¡¯d just sort of been staring at all this fighting in a daze for the past few seconds, as if I wasn¡¯t really there. It was like I was watching all of this on television rather than interacting with it. But this guy grabbing me, that was enough to snap me out of all that and make me remember that I was actually involved.


    As the guy groped over my leg looking for my pocket, I quickly turned that part of my pants blue and activated it, sending his hand snapping up and back. At the same time, I drove my helmeted head backward into his face. The combination of both made him drop me with a yelp, and I turned while landing, sending a shot of red paint into his chest while my left glove turned red as well. Activating both yanked him toward me, just as my other hand turned purple and decked the guy. He hit the ground and didn¡¯t move.


    Another guy was coming for me, but I painted my legs green and my feet purple, using that to leap up and over him, twisting in the air before coming down right on top of his shoulders. He collapsed under my weight, and as we both fell to the ground, I snapped my hand to the side, shooting a spray of yellow paint at a group of bad guys who were going after Wobble and Carousel. They suddenly slowed dramatically, giving those two a chance to deal with them while I rolled forward off the guy I had just dropped onto.


    Unfortunately, that put me right at the feet of the Oscuro Touched with the wide-brimmed hat. Silb¨®n. His power involved whistling, of course. Basically, any time he was whistling, he was almost entirely immune to damage. He would absorb that damage, and could then expel it through a whistle. When he did, his whistle would take on the same traits as the damage he had absorbed. He could whistle to absorb bullets, whistle again to absorb lightning, and whistle a third time to absorb fire. After that, he could, at any point, use the kinetic force of the bullets, the electricity from the lightning, or the heat from the fire in his whistles. Using a damage type spent the charge of absorbing it, but he tended to have absorbed a lot.


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    Just as I ended up basically half-sprawled in front of the man, staring up at his black mask under that wide hat, he pursed his lips. Eyes widening, I slapped my hand against his foot and put black paint there.


    No sound came. I¡¯d muted him. He had a moment to somehow look surprised despite me only being able to see his lips before I twisted around and drove my foot up between his legs with a bit of purple-paint boost. Then he wasn¡¯t interested in trying to whistle anymore. But I still kicked him a couple more times just to be sure.


    Scrambling back to my feet, I snapped my gaze over to the fighting. It was¡­ uhh¡­ wow. Chaotic. Still. A couple random thugs were coming for me, but I blue-launched myself up and back, flipping in the air to land on the edge of the metal awning over the loading bay. Activating a bit more orange meant that the bullets they shot up at me just made me stagger a bit before I managed to yank their guns away with a shot of red. Before they could react to that, I took a few steps back out of their line of sight, tossing the pistols away to either side. And then I sort of¡­ doubled over and tried not to hyperventilate while hugging myself. The shouting and screaming coming from everywhere, being shot at, nearly being hit by Silb¨®n, all of it just¡­ just¡­ it was too much. It was too fucking much. And what about Pack and That-A-Way?! Were they okay? What was going on? Where were they? What could I do? What¨C


    Nothing. I couldn¡¯t do anything for them, not at the moment. I just had to hope they were okay, and focus on what was going on right here, right now. I could do this. I had to do this. I couldn¡¯t abandon them down there. I had to help get that vial back.


    That settled, I took a deep breath before running forward, using a mixture of purple and blue paint to launch myself into the air. Between the two, I was sent really high and really far. Sailing over the battlefield, I helped out the best way I could. Namely, I first used yellow paint to slow my own descent, then used all the time I had while passing over the fighting to hit bad guys with more yellow paint and good guys with a mixture of green, purple, and orange. Mostly green and orange, as I couldn¡¯t expect them to suddenly know that they were strong. But being faster and tougher would help regardless. As would their opponents suddenly being much slower.


    It helped so much that, by the time I landed on the far side of the lot, dropping into a roll, most of the random Ninety-Niner and Oscuro Prevs were down. Between the four Syndicates, Wobble, Whamline, and the La Casa people, they dealt with their unpowered opponents neatly. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t solve the issue of the guys who did have powers. Especially Sandon and Cu¨¦lebre. And that situation had gotten worse, as I saw Hardway off on the far side of the field trapped inside Ringside¡¯s bubble. The two of them were fighting sans any powers as Ringside had apparently elected to remove Hardway¡¯s at the expense of her own, and both were really good at that. They would be busy for awhile.


    Meanwhile, the remaining three La Casa people were fighting the leadership of the two rival gangs. Blackjack¡¯s power wasn¡¯t exactly suited to straight up and prolonged confrontation, but he had Double Down and Cardsharp for that. And they were definitely earning their keep.


    As far as Sandon went, the Ninety-Niners¡¯ leader had been around long enough that her powers were pretty well known. They revolved around bones. Yeah. Basically, touching a bone gave her access to all of that person¡¯s strength and general toughness. If they were a Touched with enhanced strength, it gave her a portion of that as well. Of course, touching bones from multiple different people gave her each of their strength together. And the inside of her suit was apparently completely lined with little pieces of bone. She was one of the straight-up strongest people in the city just because whenever someone with super strength showed up, she made a point of hunting them down and taking a piece of bone from them if possible. Which was eeeuuuggh.


    So yeah, between Sandon and Cu¨¦lebre, there was a lot of strength on the bad guy¡¯s side. Double Down¡¯s ability to absorb any kinetic force that hit him and Cardsharp¡¯s power to alter her own physical properties to make herself tougher helped deal with that somewhat, but they couldn¡¯t actually hurt the bastards enough to put them down. The best they could do was let Double Down absorb enough kinetic force to send right back at the Oscuro and Ninety-Niner leaders, while Blackjack used his own power to watch for the right moment and target. I kept seeing him randomly using a pistol to shoot at Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail for some reason. Then I noticed that every time the tail was struck, a bit of electricity shot off of it. Like it was fizzling.


    Was Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail how he summoned lightning? And was Blackjack shooting it to disrupt his attempts to do so every time? Was that why he hadn¡¯t just fried everyone already?


    Well, that and the fact that he didn¡¯t know where the other vials were, beyond the one in his hand. That was probably why he wasn¡¯t just throwing lightning around everywhere, beyond Blackjack stopping him from using calculated strikes. Hell, maybe that was why Blackjack was able to stop him, because it took more time for him to carefully aim or something. Enough time for Blackjack to hit that spot of his tail.


    Whatever the answer, I was just glad we weren¡¯t fried. Because we already had enough problems. As I crouched there, trying to present as small a target as possible while watching for an opening in the midst of their busy fight, I saw it. The vial was still in Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s hand while he was fighting. It was right there.


    Unfortunately, just as I prepared myself to try and take it from him with a careful application of red paint, there was another interruption. This one came in the form of a figure who appeared in the middle of their fight. He was a tall guy in a dark red hood and cloak over a white bodysuit with a collar that extended up over the lower half of his face. Longhaul. That was Longhaul.


    The second he appeared, the man used his power to send Blackjack, Double Down, and Cardsharp to the far side of the parking lot, while looking at his leader. ¡°They found the car that took off, it¡¯s on the far side of Campus Martius Park. Still no driver.¡±


    Wren. She was remote driving the thing to get it out of here.


    Sandon was already looking to Cu¨¦lebre, who smiled. He was looking right at me. He read my body language. ¡°The vials. That¡¯s where they are.¡±


    Blackjack was coming. So were the others. But Cu¨¦lebre bellowed a deafening, ¡°Do it!¡± At the same time, his wings came slamming down, as he launched himself upward.


    And then a woman¡¯s voice called, ¡°Ladies and gentlemen!¡± At that, my eyes, as well as basically all of those attached to anyone on our side in the immediate area, snapped over to see a woman in a sexified version of a ringmaster¡¯s outfit sitting there on a motorcycle. Where had she come from? It was Grandstand, Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s second-in-command. Even as everyone looked that way, she smiled. ¡°Follow the leader.¡± Then the motorcycle kicked into motion, peeling out and swerving around before tearing out of the lot.


    After her. We had to go after her. Everyone else was already rushing that way, leaping into action to catch up with the woman. But just as I went to follow, intent on using green and red paint to catch up and maybe stop her, a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back. It was Eits. He shook me violently, yelling something about Cu¨¦lebre at me. But who cared about Cu¨¦lebre when¨Cwait.


    Grandstand¡¯s power faded a second later as Eits shook me violently once more. I snapped out of it in time to see everyone else disappearing as they took off after her. After the distraction.


    ¡°Cu¨¦lebre!¡± Eits shouted at me. ¡°He¡¯s getting away, what do we do?!¡±


    ¡°How did you¨C¡± Then I realized it was probably the fact that his focus had been split between his own mind and all of his mites. That had saved him from Grandstand¡¯s power. And there wasn¡¯t time to worry about it anyway.


    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± I blurted, grabbing onto Eits. He had time to yelp before I launched both of us into the air through a combination of blue paint at our feet and a red paint yank at the nearby building. We went up and over the roof, while I informed the boy currently holding on for dear life, ¡°There¡¯s a demon trying to catch a car, and we¡¯ve gotta catch him first.¡±

 Showdown 7-07

    Coming down on the roof of the next building, I stumbled and almost fell. It was actually Eits, recovering a bit from his surprise, who caught me. ¡°Paintball, why¡¯d you bring me wi¨C¡±


    ¡°Sedans!¡± I blurted. ¡°Red sedans! Take over every red sedan you can find that doesn¡¯t have anyone in it and bring them with us!¡± Even as I said it, my hand caught his and I started running, painting my legs green while using my other hand to shoot more green at the boy himself to speed both of us up. We ran together, racing to the other side of the roof. ¡°Cu¨¦lebre and his people are after a red sedan, send in more to confuse them! Catch up with the right one and mix them up. Shell game, make them lose track of which is the right one! And keep running!¡±


    We hit the edge of that roof, and I used blue paint to launch both of us upward. I could see Cu¨¦lebre in the distance. He wasn¡¯t that far away yet. Faster. I had to be faster. We had to be faster. Because if we didn¡¯t stop this, not only would Cu¨¦lebre get the vials in that car in addition to the one he already had, he¡¯d also find out where Wren was hiding.


    I had to get his attention. I had to get him focused on me. And I knew just how to do that. But we had to get close enough. As Eits and I landed on the next roof over and kept running, I held my free arm out and shot a line of red paint ahead of us. A second later, I took my other hand from the boy¡¯s, wrapped my arm around his waist, and let the paint yank us forward.


    We repeated that several times, the motions coming so rapidly I could barely think about them. Activating green paint that was already on my costume to keep moving as fast as possible, blue paint for jumps, red paint to yank us forward, repeat. Repeat, repeat. Everything was a blur, as I raced toward Cu¨¦lebre. He may have been literally flying, but we might as well have been. For that short time, I don¡¯t think we spent more than a handful of seconds actually on the ground. Errr, roofs. And to his credit, Eits didn¡¯t barf. I was pretty sure that was mostly because the majority of his attention was on sending his mites out to grab various nearby cars as we passed them, but still.


    There, there! Cu¨¦lebre was just ahead of us and slightly above. His attention was focused ahead and down, scanning the street as he hovered there for the moment, clearly intent on spotting the car. Any second now, he was going to dive, grab the sedan, and be out of there. No, no, no, I had to do something!


    Too late, his form started to invert as prepared himself to dive. The car was in sight. He was going for it. He was going to have it. We couldn¡¯t stop him. We couldn¡¯t¨C


    Then I saw it. A sudden freezing in his body language. I couldn¡¯t see his face, but I knew there would be a look of confusion. And in the distance, I saw cars. Sedans. Red sedans. They were coming in from every other street. Eits had captured them, was bringing them along and sending the cars in to distract and disorient Cu¨¦lebre. Soon, the real car was surrounded by other, similar-looking cars. The whole street was flooded with over a dozen red sedans.


    It was enough to make Cu¨¦lebre freeze in confusion for a second. And that was all I needed. ¡°Keep going!¡± I blurted to Eits, painting him orange for protection before running forward with him. I leapt, dropping Eits down to land sprawled out on the roof of one of his cars. He¡¯d be fine.


    As for me, I hurled myself upward, shooting a line of red paint right at the small vial still clutched in Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s massive hand. The paint struck the vial, yanking it out of his grip as he made a sound of surprise. It flew into my waiting grasp, while I flew by just underneath the giant demon-man.


    ¡°Yoink!¡± I shouted at him, my terror mixing with my glee. Clutching the vial, I hit the next roof over, rolling and spinning to come up on one knee and one foot, facing back the way I had come.


    Cu¨¦lebre was there, staring at me in flat disbelief mixed with clearly mounting rage.


    ¡°Hey, buddy,¡± I blurted, ¡°don¡¯t you know it¡¯s rude to take things that don¡¯t belong to you? I think you need a time-out!¡± With that, I sent a wave of white paint that hit his face before he could react, activating it for a blinding flash of light that left him reeling with a deafening roar of fury that shook the air and left me wishing I could call a timeout to piss my pants.


    Instead, I used the brief moment that gave me to spin away and run. Escape. I had to lead Cu¨¦lebre away and escape. Pissed as he was right now, he¡¯d be right on my tail. And I was pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t stop at exchanging a few ugly words.


    I ran, fleeing as fast as I could while activating paint on myself to keep going. All I could think about was the next step, the next jump, the next second of flying wildly through the air. Part of me expected to feel a lightning bolt go through me any instant. But no, he wanted the vial. He needed the vial, and wouldn¡¯t risk destroying it, no matter how angry he was about me taking it from him.


    At least, that¡¯s what I hoped.


    Sure enough, there was another roar, and chancing a quick glance back showed Cu¨¦lebre already hurling himself my way. He was closing the distance terrifyingly quickly, and I launched myself off the edge of the roof with a reflexive yelp of fear.


    That time, instead of aiming for the next roof, I saw an open window partway up on an apartment building. There was a man standing there smoking and leaning out. He looked up at the last second, saw me flying toward him, and jerked backward, dropping the cigarette.


    I went right through the open window hands first in a diving position, rolling as I hit the floor. ¡°Stay down, stay down!¡± I blurted, already back up on my feet and running. Through the kitchen, the living room, a short hallway, I hit the front door, practically crashed through it while taking barely enough time to twist the knob, and found myself in the main hall of the building, apartment doors lining the walls along both sides. Without thinking about it, I spun to the right, toward the tall window at the end of the corridor. My hand snapped down, grabbing hold of a fire extinguisher, and I activated a spot of purple on what remained of my formerly intricate painted image. With a grunt, I hurled the extinguisher at the window, sending it through with a crash.


    Cu¨¦lebre would hear it. He would know where I was. But I wanted him to. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for him tearing his way through these people¡¯s apartments trying to get me. I wanted him to know that I wasn¡¯t in the building anymore.


    Sure enough, even as I threw myself out the broken window and used a shot of red paint to yank myself toward a billboard in the distance, I could hear a rush of motion overhead. Cu¨¦lebre. He was diving toward me, so at the last second I cancelled the paint, spinning over on my back in mid-dive. Falling through the open air toward the hard street below, I forced myself to ignore just how very dead I would be if I hit it. Instead, I focused on the giant demon man coming after me. A shot of green, yes green, paint hit him while I activated yellow paint on myself.


    My fall slowed, even as Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s descent dramatically sped up. He shot past just barely ahead of me, his grasping hand missing while he blurted a violent curse. An instant later, he crashed into the street, sending up a huge spray of dirt, rocks, and concrete and knocking over a couple lamp posts.


    Meanwhile, I used a new shot of red paint to yank my (now much slower-falling) body over to that billboard from before. Landing on it, I had time to glance down, seeing Cu¨¦lebre dragging himself out of the rather substantial crater he¡¯d made in the middle of the street. Water was spraying from a broken hydrant, and I could see people fleeing down the sidewalks. But he wasn¡¯t paying them any mind. Not that he was calm or collected. If anything, he was even more pissed off than before. But he didn¡¯t care about the people running away from him. No, he was looking right up at me, eyes smoldering with hatred and promised retribution.


    Right, time to leave. Really, really time to leave.


    Spinning to throw myself off the billboard, I hit the next roof over already running. A new shot of green paint at my feet pushed my speed back up, as I sprinted flat-out for the edge of the building with Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s angry bellow filling the air behind me. One step after another, vial clutched tightly in one hand while my ears listened intently to the rushing wind sound of the giant monster flapping his wings and launching himself upward after me with another shouted threat.


    And here we went again. Me being chased through the city by a monster who could easily rip me apart if he managed to get hold of me. Was this getting repetitive yet? Because my heart didn¡¯t think so, considering the way it was beating so hard it felt like it might jump out of my chest and take off without me.


    Cu¨¦lebre dove. I leapt off the edge of the building, spiraling into a dive just as he landed right where I had just been. His massive hand lashed out, narrowly missing me as I plummeted toward the ground. Activating a bit of orange paint on my back, I forced myself to keep falling. Cu¨¦lebre had hurled himself down after me, but I was pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t fall for the same trick twice. That was okay, I had a different trick in mind.


    The ground rushed up at me. Every instinct I had said to bail out. But I let myself keep falling, arms extended as if I was diving into water. Above and behind me was Cu¨¦lebre, just waiting for me to try to yank myself in any direction. He knew I¡¯d have to, or I¡¯d hit the ground. I had about five seconds from the time I leapt off the roof until¡­ well, until it would be too late. With three seconds left, I pointed with my hand and fired off a spray of red paint. Just as Cu¨¦lebre expected. Only I wasn¡¯t pulling myself anywhere. Instead, I shot the paint at a parked car. A thought brought the car off the ground, making the literal car come flying up toward me. Toward my red glove.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Two seconds left. I cut the connection with the car, but it kept coming, its momentum bringing it upward. The car was spinning end over end as it came, and I timed a shot of blue paint to hit the roof. It made one more full revolution just before impact. My outstretched hands hit the blue spot I¡¯d made (the orange paint I¡¯d activated earlier protecting me from breaking every bone in them as well as my arms), and I was instantly rocketed backwards and up.


    Flying backwards, I shot right between Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s arms as the man made a noise of surprise. An instant later, the car completed its next revolution and slammed into him. The sound of crunching metal and exploding glass filled the air, as well as an actual yelp of pain from the man. Apparently flying what amounted to face-first into a car didn¡¯t do him any favors. Particularly after having flown face-first into the ground just before that.


    But he wasn¡¯t anywhere near down. A fact he made abundantly clear by lashing his tail up and back at me just as I was passing. I managed to snap my free hand out, catching hold of the tail while activating a spot of purple on my arm. My momentum made me spin around the tail like it was a pole in gymnastics, and I very nearly lost my grip. But I managed to hang on, spinning myself all the way around before releasing the tail to drop onto the flailing man¡¯s back. Bending my knees like I was a surfer riding a very large, very unstable board, I found words blurting their way out of my mouth. ¡°We keep meeting like this. Maybe we should schedule a nice dinner instead. It sounds less painful for you.¡±


    Recovering from the brief second of being stunned by taking a car to the face, Cu¨¦lebre snarled a dark, ¡°I¡¯ll bring you dinner in the hospital, boy.¡± He said the last word like it was an insult, his tail already lashing in from the side in a clear attempt to knock me off his back (and likely into his waiting hand). But before it could hit, I flipped up and over, shooting a bit of yellow paint down to slow him while speeding myself up once more with green. That way, he didn¡¯t completely leave me behind. His tail had barely cleared the spot just under me as I came down, landing on his back once more. A shot of red paint at the blade of the tail and another toward the man¡¯s own back just as I cancelled the yellow jerked the tail that way and made the man literally stab himself.


    ¡°Chess game in the park, maybe?!¡± I blurted over the sound of his enraged bellow. While he was still recovering, yanking the blade of his tail free, I shot three more lines of red paint at the ground, and one at the man¡¯s back. Then I hurled myself off him while shouting over my shoulder, ¡°Call me, we¡¯ll set something up!¡±


    With that, I activated the paint. The man was yanked downward partway before stopping. Landing on the edge of a window balcony, I could see his enormous muscles straining, the man spitting curses and threats. He was managing to keep himself in the air against the pull of the paint, but only just.


    Ten seconds, I had ten seconds where he¡¯d be held or at least slowed down. I had to use them. One more shot of red paint took me to the next roof, and I activated my skates, landing easily on the wheels before pushing off. Green paint, green paint, green paint! I used it, launching myself across that roof as fast as I could go. Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s pants-browning scream did a lot to make me forget about how tired I was, as I clutched the vial in my hand and pushed myself to keep moving.


    Hitting the edge of the roof, I heard another bellow from Cu¨¦lebre. And then the first lightning bolt struck. It came from the sky, slamming into the roof about a dozen feet away from me. The power of it was enough to almost throw me forward, even as the resulting boom deafened me.


    But Cu¨¦lebre wasn¡¯t done. A second strike came an instant later, followed by a third. Each one progressively closer. The man couldn¡¯t even see me yet, he was just hurling lightning in the direction he¡¯d seen me go. He had completely lost his goddamn mind!


    With a yelp, I threw myself off the roof. There wasn¡¯t even time to make any blue paint or anything. I just had to leap, an instant before the next lightning strike hit the spot right where I had just been. It was an almost perfect shot from a guy who couldn¡¯t even see me!


    I was falling through the air, windmilling and screaming. A quick thought, almost entirely reflex, brought my hand up to point across the street. From the corner of my eye, I could see the fire escape in an alley between the two buildings. Red paint, please, please¡­


    It went off, and I was yanked that way. Yanked that way¡­ just as yet another bolt of lightning struck. This one came so close all I saw was a blinding light. Pain engulfed my body, as a scream tore its way out of my throat. At some point, I had instinctively activated every bit of orange left on my costume. But it still hurt. Oh God, did it ever hurt.


    Everything came in a bit of a blurry, dazed rush then. I felt the air rushing past me. I felt myself hit the fire escape, slip off it, fall to land on top of the dumpster below, then roll off it to land on the ground. Barely conscious, I rolled over. It took absolutely everything I had, but the sound of Cu¨¦lebre approaching spurred me to move through the pain, through the desperate need to fall unconscious. I pushed myself and rolled under that dumpster. My helmet fell off in the process.


    The demon man landed a moment later, hitting the street beyond before a chuckle escaped him. ¡°No more wisecracks, little boy?¡± he demanded. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come out and invite me to dinner again?¡±


    He didn¡¯t know where I was. But he did know that I was somewhere in the area, and hurt. It wouldn¡¯t take him long to narrow down the possibilities. I had to do something. I had to¡­ to move¡­ to¡­ think. But my vision kept fading in and out, and the thought of moving made me whimper mostly silently. Everything hurt.


    Then I heard it. Not Cu¨¦lebre. Another voice.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ve done enough damage for one night.¡±


    Silversmith. It was Silversmith. My dad. His voice was different from how I knew him, of course. But it was him. Turning my head a little, I could see the silver-armored man appear right in front of the giant demon, facing him down.


    A month earlier, I would have been elated. That was Silversmith, my favorite hero in the whole world. And he was, knowingly or not, saving my life. Saving me. It would have been one of the most amazing moments in my life.


    Now¡­ now I knew the truth. I knew Silversmith was my father, and that he killed people. So mostly¡­ mostly I was just confused about how I was supposed to feel right now. Confused, tired, sore, and trying very hard to stay conscious.


    ¡°I am not in the mood, Hero-Man,¡± Cu¨¦lebre growled in a dismissive voice. Even as he said it, I saw the slight spark on his tail appear. Then a bolt of lightning, aimed straight at my father, tore down from the sky.


    It was intercepted by a large silver shield that appeared in the air. A similar (though smaller) shield appeared on my dad¡¯s arm, along with a sword in his other hand as he calmly informed the Oscuro leader, ¡°You¡¯re about to be in a worse one.¡±


    Cu¨¦lebre struck, lunging forward to swipe at my father. But just as he moved (thus negating his own invulnerability power that kicked in when he stood still), something slammed into him from behind. It was a truck. No, it was one of Silversmith¡¯s constructs made to look like a truck. Either way, the shiny metal thing crashed into Cu¨¦lebre, just as Dad ducked and turned in one smooth motion. The giant demon man bellowed as he was hurled over Silversmith¡¯s head and sent flying down the street and out of my line of sight.


    The form of the truck broke apart an instant after impact, turning back into its default liquid metal form. Like a big ball of floating mercury, or the T1000 Terminator.


    Silversmith, my dad, was already throwing himself up and backward. He crashed into his own liquid metal ball before stopping there as the stuff hardened and shaped itself around him. Soon, it didn¡¯t look like a floating ball of liquid or a truck anymore. It had turned into what amounted to a battlesuit, armor as large as Cu¨¦lebre was. Silversmith was inside it.


    Another bolt of lightning came, but the large shield that had blocked it the first time had already spun through the air to catch against Dad¡¯s new armor¡¯s arm, and he caught the bolt easily. Then he pushed off, disappearing from sight as he chased after his giant opponent.


    They were gone. They were both gone. I was¡­ I was safe? Safe, right. Sure. Safe here in my hiding place.


    I was hiding again. Just as I had on that first night, back when I had found out about my brother, about my family. After everything that had happened, there I was, lying under a dumpster and hiding again.


    It was too much. With the immediate danger gone, all I could do was lay there listening to the fighting between Cu¨¦lebre and my father as it faded into the distance. My eyes blinked a few times, straining to keep myself awake. I had to keep going, I had to¡­ to use this chance to get out of here before something happened. Stay awake¡­ Stay awake, damn it, stay¡­


    I passed out.


    ******


    ¡°Paintball!¡±


    The voice dragged me back to consciousness. As my eyes blinked blearily open, I felt every muscle in my body protest even that movement. Groaning, I turned my head, reaching down to pull the helmet up with one hand before shoving it onto my head. Unfortunately, the view was¡­ distorted, cracked.


    The visor of the helmet. It was shattered in a couple places. As I pushed myself out from under the dumpster with another groan, my hand moved to push the helmet off once more. Something was in my other hand. I looked down. The vial. It was still there, still intact by some miracle. I¡¯d held onto it through all of that.


    ¡°Paintball!¡± It was Eits, frantically calling my name as he came around the corner. When he saw me, he made a noise of relief. ¡°Oh God, there you are! Are you okay? I was following in one of the cars. I saw you go down somewhere over here but I couldn¡¯t get close until Silversmith chased the big guy off. He¨Che¡¯s gone now. They¡¯re gone. But you¡­ are you¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I muttered, shaking off the lingering daze as much as I could. It hurt, everything hurt. And my ears were still ringing. But I was alive. ¡°I¡¯m okay, and I¡¯ve got the vial. It¡¯s¨C¡± Blinking up at the boy to find him staring at me in what looked like total shock, I hesitated. ¡°What¡­ what¡¯s wrong? I¨C¡±


    Wait. Wait. What was wrong with my voice? It was¨C wait. My free hand found my phone. It was heavily damaged, the screen partially crushed, with random lines and colors across the cracked screen. Which meant my voice changer was gone. Which meant¨C


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± Eits stammered.


    ¡°You¡¯re a girl!¡±

 Showdown 7-08 And Patreon Snippet - Izzy

    There was a buzzing of panic in the back of my head that wouldn¡¯t go away. My mouth opened and closed a couple times as I stood there, face still covered by the mask while the broken helmet was held tightly in one hand. The buzzing turned audible as I managed a low, ¡°Uhhhhh¡­. n-no, I¡ª¡±


    And that was when my panicking brain had the incredibly genius idea to make Eits stop talking by shooting black paint at him. I didn¡¯t even know what that was supposed to accomplish other than keeping him silent for a few seconds. What was I going to do, follow him around forever constantly shooting black paint at him so he couldn¡¯t tell anybody? What was my endgame there?


    From the look on what I could see of his face after he tried and failed to say something, Eits was just as dubious as to the long term validity of this plan as I was. He stared at me, arms spreading apart in a ¡®really?¡¯ gesture that made me blush.


    Finally, I canceled the paint and stammered, ¡°Look, you can¡¯t¡ª I mean, don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not¡­ you¡ª¡±


    His hands raised while he shook his head quickly. ¡°Stop, just stop. I¡¯m not telling anybody. Are you kidding me? After you helped me get my ball back and all that? You saved my ass. I¡¯m not gonna throw you under the bus, geez. I was just surprised, that¡¯s all. I just¡­¡± Trailing off, his head tilted to the side. ¡°Blackjack¡¯s coming. Gimme your phone. That¡¯s what you¡¯re using to change your voice, right? Let me see, quick.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have much of a choice, so I passed the phone that way. He took a quick glance at the damaged device while pulling another phone from his pocket. I saw one of his mites jump into my phone, then slip over to the other one. Then Eits passed the new phone to me. ¡°Plug it into your mic, hurry.¡±


    Without wasting time asking questions, I paired the new phone with my microphone (that was what was actually changing my voice, it just needed the phone for the software part to work properly) and tried talking. ¡°Hello, hello. Good?¡± It worked. My voice sounded like it should have again. My mic had kept the same settings.


    And just in time, because a nondescript blue car screeched to a halt a short distance away. Blackjack and a couple of his armed people stepped out. The man himself looked around briefly before his eyes centered on the two of us. And you know what? I had to give him credit, because despite how terrified for his daughter the man had to be, the first words out of his mouth were, ¡°Are you two okay?¡± Belatedly, he ordered his men to spread out and watch for trouble.


    Eits was quiet, so I spoke up. ¡°Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s gone. I¡­ um, lost him, I guess. But I got this back.¡± Holding my hand up, I showed the man the vial held tightly in it.


    As soon as it appeared, I saw a load of tension, though not nearly all of it, slip from his shoulders. He exhaled and stepped that way, reaching out for the vial. I let him take it, and only once it was secure in his own pocket did the man speak. ¡°The others?¡±


    ¡°Pack has one with her, and my¡­ my friend has the others in the car,¡± I replied, hesitantly looking toward Eits. ¡°Which is¡­¡±


    ¡°I lost track of it,¡± he admitted. ¡°But so did everyone else. I was kind of focused on leading all the others away, and on finding you after that whole lightning thing. I¡¯m pretty sure they got the car out of sight.¡±


    I had no idea what he was thinking, what his opinion was about what he had just found out about me. And there wasn¡¯t exactly time to ask at the moment. Instead, I said, ¡°I¡¯ll find out. Just¡­¡± Then I paused, realizing a problem. I couldn¡¯t call Wren without the number in my phone. But the real phone was broken.


    ¡°You should call them,¡± Eits urged,  giving me a brief, yet significant look. Clearly, that mite of his had copied all the number data out of the old phone. So it was probably a good thing that I wasn¡¯t keeping deeply personal information in it. That phone was intended as my Touched thing, so I kept my personal stuff off it.


    Sure enough, when I opened the phone, I found the right number in the contacts. Giving Eits a slight nod, I hit it and brought the phone to my ear. I could see Blackjack standing there, watching me like a hawk with tension still visible in him. It was clear that he would not relax until he had every vial. And after seeing how far his rivals were willing to go to get the things for themselves, I really couldn¡¯t blame him.


    The phone rang a couple times before Wren answered. ¡°Hello? Who¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Paintball,¡± I cut her off. ¡°I¡¯m okay. I got one of the vials back from Cu¨¦lebre, but there¡¯s two still on the car. Please tell me you still have the car.¡±


    There was a burst of noise from the other side, as the younger girl clearly turned to tell someone else, no doubt Fred, that I was the one on the phone. Then she was back. ¡°Paintball! Why are you¡ª never mind. Yes, we¡¯ve got the car! There were a bunch of bad guys, and then there were a bunch of other red cars and I think they were trying to help. But there were still lots of bad guys trying to stop us¡ª I mean the car¡ª so I hid it behind a building and I don¡¯t think anybody knows where it is. But they keep driving past looking for it and I don¡¯t know who¡¯s bad or good anymore. Where¡¯s Pack? She¡¯s not answering her phone either. What¡ª¡±


    Wincing, I quickly interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m working on it. Just keep it there and I¡¯ll come get them. And hey, thanks. That was some really good driving. Just hang on a second.¡±


    With that, I muted the phone and looked over to Blackjack. ¡°We¡¯ve got it. The next vials are in the car and I can go get them. But what about Pack and That-A-Way? They were both taken by that weird prisoner guy, and Pack¡¯s got the last vial. Plus, I mean¡­ I know the Minority aren¡¯t exactly on your Christmas card list, but¡ª¡±


    It was my turn to be interrupted, as the man spoke. ¡°I owe the girl no particular ill will. Particularly given the current situation. Intentional or not, she¡¯s helped me secure these vials. And as far as that goes¡­¡± He exhaled. ¡°The boy calls himself Jailtime. From what I understand, there are two aspects to his power. The first allows him to selectively cancel movement-based powers, such as teleportation, within an area.¡±


    ¡°Which is why That-A-Way couldn¡¯t teleport,¡± I murmured.


    ¡°Correct,¡± he confirmed. ¡°The second use of his power allows him to take anyone he¡¯s touching to some kind of abandoned prison somewhere. The boy has some kind of power over the prison to create simulacrum beings and to control things within the prison itself, everything except the people he brings in. If you can get to the exit, you get transported back to where you left from. Other than that, we have no idea where this prison is. Or if it¡¯s even a true physical place that can be reached.¡±


    ¡°So we just have to wait until they manage to get out of there by themselves?¡± I winced after saying it. ¡°I mean, at least Pack has her animals and¡­ I¡­ I guess we just¡­ oh God, I hope they¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°As do I,¡± the man agreed quietly, and I knew it wasn¡¯t just because he wanted that last vial, even if that was a big part of it. Hell, I knew it had to be taking everything he had not to scream at me to just get the vials in the car, but Blackjack controlled himself. His voice was mostly calm. ¡°But in the meantime¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go get the other vials right now,¡± I assured him before pausing. ¡°But uhh, maybe I shouldn¡¯t go the fun way with Cu¨¦lebre still pretty pissed off out there.¡±


    Eits promptly took the hint, speaking up. ¡°I¡¯ll drive him over to grab the vials. Then we¡¯ll come right back.¡±


    I could see the objection in Blackjack¡¯s body language. He didn¡¯t want to let me out of his sight until he had all the vials, particularly if I was about to go grab one. But he relented with a slight nod. ¡°Go. I need to check in with my people, but I¡¯m not leaving this spot. Get them and come back.¡± His words did not invite discussion or disagreement, only obedience.


    I let it go. The guy was stressed. I mean, he was also a supervillain with a horde of minions at his beck and call who was clearly accustomed to giving any orders he wanted. But in this case, he was also understandably stressed. The fact that he hadn¡¯t snapped at me and was even willing to let me leave his sight to get the next vial for him said a lot more about his patience and control than anything else. I wasn¡¯t going to childishly demand he say please or anything stupid like that.


    Instead, I just looked over to Eits. ¡°Car?¡±


    No sooner had I said it, than a station wagon pulled up to the curb. The boy gestured to it before looking to his boss. ¡°We¡¯ll be right back. What about the other attacks?¡±


    ¡°Distractions,¡± Blackjack replied. ¡°Hit and run techniques meant to keep us busy. They did the same thing across the city to occupy the Star-Touched. I¡¯m checking in on our other people now, just to be sure. You grab those vials, then we¡¯ll secure them and all of this will be over.¡± His gaze flicked over to me as he added, ¡°And I will owe you more than I can ever repay.¡±


    Rather than respond to that, I stepped down into the station wagon. Only when Eits had gotten in the other side and pulled away from the curb did it occur to me to weakly ask, ¡°Oh God, this is stolen, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Borrowed for the emergency,¡± he corrected. ¡°As soon as we¡¯re done, I¡¯ll fill it with gas and put it right back where we found it. Scout¡¯s honor.¡±


    I probably should¡¯ve said something else to that, but all I could think about was what he now knew. I fell silent, chancing a glance that way. He was looking at me rather than the road. Then again, he wasn¡¯t actually physically driving anyway. One of his mites was, so Eits didn¡¯t need to watch the road.


    The two of us stared at each other for a minute, as I rested the broken helmet in my lap. It was obvious that neither of us really knew what to say. But we had to say something.


    In a minute, anyway. Right then, I remembered Wren and quickly unmuted the phone. ¡°Okay, heading for the car. Where is it, exactly?¡±


    She gave directions, and I passed them to Eits before letting the girl know that we would be showing up in a station wagon so she wouldn¡¯t freak out when she saw it on the car¡¯s cameras. I stayed on the line with her the whole way just in case something happened. And, of course, because it gave me an excuse not to get into the inevitable awkward conversation with Eits.


    It also gave me a chance to explain what was going on with Pack. Wren, of course, wasn¡¯t exactly happy about the fact that we couldn¡¯t do anything but wait. I couldn¡¯t blame her for that, considering how annoyed I was by it. Yet there was nothing else for it. We just had to be patient and hope the two of them (plus the lizard buddies) could get out of that prison without our help.


    Finally, we pulled up around the back of the building in question. The car was waiting there, and I had Eits wait while I went over, opened the door, and reached in. There they were, the vials. We had the vials, meaning there was only one more out there. The one Pack had. Please, let her and That-A-Way get away from that Jailtime guy.


    Clutching the vial from the car, I looked up to the sky and murmured a silent prayer before  bringing the phone back to my ear. ¡°Got it. Pack¡¯s got the last one, as soon as she¡­ Wren, you¡­ you did great. Seriously, this wouldn¡¯t have happened without you. That girl survives all this, it¡¯s totally because of you.¡±


    Promising to let her know the second I found out anything else, I disconnected, reaching the car just as something else occurred to me. Eyes widening behind my mask, I grabbed the door and got in while blurting, ¡°Wait, what about Ashton? I just left him back there when we took off after Cu¨¦lebre.¡±


    ¡°I guess Blackjack¡¯s probably got him,¡± the boy replied before physically wincing. ¡°I really don¡¯t see that ending well for him after what he did.¡±


    And I would have to do something about that. Going silent for a moment, I waited before glancing to Eits. ¡°I guess you probably have a lot of questions, huh?¡±


    He hesitated before shrugging. ¡°It¡¯s pretty self-explanatory, actually. Maybe not specifics or anything, but posing as the gender you¡¯re not makes it harder to identify you later. It¡¯s a pretty good¡ª¡± In mid-sentence, he suddenly stopped, making a kind of adorable horrified noise. ¡°Errr, did I just do to you what people kept doing to me? I mean, are we both¡­ are you¡­¡±


    My head shook as I quickly assured him, ¡°No, no, I¡¯m not trying to transition or anything. It¡¯s really just a disguise.¡± Belatedly, I hit the button to deactivate the voice thing and spoke normally. ¡°I guess you could probably take offense to that, huh?¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    His response was another shrug. ¡°Not really. It¡¯s a disguise, you¡¯re not mocking anything. Context kinda matters. I just¡­ I mean¡­ I guess I¡¯m still just a little surprised. Okay, a lot surprised. It¡¯s a pretty good way of hiding your identity though, if you¡¯re the kind of girl with a body type that can pass for a boy and oh my God I just realized I said that out loud.¡± The last bit came all in a rush as he lowered his head to bang it against the steering wheel, making me glad again that he wasn¡¯t driving the normal way.


    My face flushed under the mask, but it wasn¡¯t as bad as it could have been. There were a lot of people who could have said something like that and basically ruined my night. Or, they could have a while ago before my priorities got pretty reorganized. Still, the reminder that at best I looked like a girl who had not made it very far through puberty sent an embarrassed twinge through me. At least it could be worse.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Eits was saying. ¡°I¡¯m really not trying to pry into your identity or anything, I swear. But how long are you going to be able to pull this charade off? I mean, once you get a little older, people might notice¡­ changes.¡±


    It was worse! It was worse, definitely worse. Oh God!


    My face went bright red, feeling warm under the mask as I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. ¡°I¡¯m not a kid.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Eits started, ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to say you¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a kid,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m closer to college than middle school. The puberty fairy¡¯s already made it pretty clear that her ideal look for me is ¡®vampire turned when she was thirteen.¡¯ At my sixteenth birthday party, we celebrated that I finally crossed five feet. I¡ª¡± Then I stopped myself, realizing that for all he¡¯d talked about not prying into my identity, I probably still shouldn¡¯t hand him so much information like that. I probably should have stopped talking sooner, but I was just so flustered. And it had been a long night.


    Eits was looking my way, waiting for me to fall silent before he spoke. ¡°Sorry. That was a really dumb assumption and a stupid thing for me to say. I was trying to help things and¡­ well, yeah. You see how that turned out. Look, it doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re a boy or a girl under that costume. what matters is who you are, right? And who you are is the guy¡ªsorry, girl who really helped me out of a jam, and accepted who I am pretty much instantly. You¡¯re the girl who risked her life to save the daughter of a supervillain, and who is going back there right now to talk to said supervillain about not hurting the guy who almost killed his daughter, about letting the guy go without taking his revenge. So personally, I think you¡¯re pretty brave, cool, funny, and accepting. Those are the things you can change. Anyone gives you shit about the things you can¡¯t, fuck ¡®em.¡±


    Before I could stop myself, the words blurted their way out of my mouth. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure ¡®fuck ¡®em¡¯ is really the best way to handle my body image issues.¡±


    Before Eits could really recover from his reaction to that, the car stopped right back where we had started. As promised, Blackjack was there. He¡¯d been joined by more of his troops, including Cardsharp. When I got out of the car (taking a second to make sure my voice changer was on again), the La Casa leader¡¯s gaze snapped to me, and everyone seemed to freeze.


    At first, I didn¡¯t say anything. I simply steeled myself and looked to him. ¡°Pack¡¯s got the last vial.¡± I held up the two that I had retrieved. ¡°As soon as she gets away from Jailtime, you¡¯ll have everything you need to save your daughter.¡±


    A bit of weight seemed to slip from the man¡¯s shoulders, as he murmured, ¡°Pack¡­¡± Looking to one of his men, he ordered, ¡°Make absolutely sure that spot is clear and safe when they show up. And¨C¡± He glanced to me before adding, ¡°Let That-A-Way go unharmed, along with the rest of her team. The truce stays so long as they don¡¯t attack any of our people.¡±


    His man acknowledged that and moved away while speaking into a phone, and I started again. ¡°You have Ashton. You also said that if I got you the vials, you¡¯d owe me a favor.¡± Stepping over, I extended the vials I had to him before adding, ¡°I¡¯ve helped you find them. Assuming Pack gets out of there okay, I want two favors.¡±


    Only once he had the vials in his hand and confirmed they looked right did the man speak. ¡°Two favors?¡±


    From the way his voice cracked, he would have granted fifty. But I wasn¡¯t going to get greedy. Instead, I nodded once. ¡°Yeah, two. First, I want you to let me take Ashton to the cops, and then you leave him alone. He¡¯s grieving for his friend and he did stupid things. He was wrong and he was psycho, no matter what his reasoning was. No tragic backstory gives him the right to do what he tried to do. But let him go to prison for it.¡±


    Without giving any indication of how he felt about that, Blackjack simply asked, ¡°The second?¡±


    ¡°You put up a bounty of three million dollars,¡± I reminded him. ¡°I decided I want you to follow through. Only send it to the children¡¯s hospital that was just attacked by the Scions. All of it except one hundred thousand. I¡¯m going to use that to help people in another way.¡± Namely as seed money to dump into Wren without my parents noticing any large sums disappearing.


    ¡°Three million to the children¡¯s hospital,¡± Blackjack echoed, his voice clearly carefully even. ¡°One hundred thousand to you. And let you take Mr. Austin to the authorities. Is that all?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I confirmed. ¡°I know with Pack having the last vial, that means you already have what you want, but everyone says you¡¯re a man of your word, so¨C¡±


    ¡°Done,¡± the man interrupted. ¡°The hospital will receive the full reward, with a small compensation of a hundred thousand going to your¡­ efforts. And you¡­ may take Mr. Austin.¡± The last bit was clearly the hardest for him to say, anger still turning his words brittle. ¡°But should he remind me of his existence again¡­¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± It was the best I could have hoped for. Hell, for all I knew, he¡¯d just wait for Ashton to be in prison and then have him killed. But I¡¯d try to make sure the authorities knew how much danger he was in. Other than that¡­ well, it could¡¯ve been worse.


    Blackjack interrupted my thoughts. ¡°Now, we need to go and wait for the missing girls to return.¡±


    I nodded quickly. Because I was going to be there when Pack and That-A-Way got out of that weird prison thing Jailtime had apparently sent them to. Not to mention check on the rest of the Minority who had shown up to help, if they were still around. And I was pretty sure Eits and I weren¡¯t done talking about¡­ about what he had found out. We¡¯d managed a lot. Blackjack¡¯s daughter was¡­ well, almost safe. But I wasn¡¯t going to celebrate just yet. Not until I knew for sure that Pack and That-A-Way had made it back with that last vial. Then the girl would be okay. She¡¯d have all her medicine. Once that was assured, I¡¯d have to actually take Ashton to the authorities, let them know what was going on and¡­ and¡­ everything. All of that, of course, assumed that Pack returned with the vial. After all this, it was down to her and That-A-Way to bring that last one back.


    Yeah, as long as this night had already been and as much as we¡¯d accomplished, this night still wasn¡¯t over yet.


    *******


    Patreon Snippet ¨C Izzy


    The tiny, somewhat huddled figure ran through the dark alley before reaching a heavy green dumpster. There, she looked around quickly, while the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. The young girl looked over her shoulder, seeing bouncing lights draw nearer to the mouth of the alley. Then she turned back, eyes settling on something in particular before she gave a small nod of decision.


    A few seconds later, two flashlight beams lit up the area where the girl had just been, revealing empty space. The source of the lights, two men holding them next to their pistols, grew brighter as the pair advanced into the alley. Their voices were hushed. ¡°You see anything?¡± one man asked.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± the next murmured, slowly panning his light over the collection of garbage around the dumpster, across a few old wooden pallets, and onto a moldy mattress against the opposite wall. ¡°You sure the kid came this way?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what they said,¡± came the response, as the first man advanced cautiously closer to the dumpster. ¡°Paola saw her in the rearview, crossing the street over on Beckards, but they couldn¡¯t turn around in time to catch up. She was heading this way.¡±


    The second man kicked the mattress, leaning over to check in the space between it and the wall before shaking his head. ¡°We gotta grab this maldita puta before she gets her powers back, or before she finds a working phone and fucks all of us over. You know how screwed we are if that kid gets away and tells anyone?¡±


    Advancing toward the dumpster, the first man peeked around it to the spot where the girl had ducked earlier. His gun was raised and ready, but he found nothing but a smell from abandoned rotten food on the ground that made him gag a bit. ¡°Uuuuggghh, tell me about it,¡± he muttered under his breath while leaning back and turning his head a little to press his nose against his shoulder for relief.


    After recovering a bit, the man took a step back to be out of easy reach before taking a knee to peer under the dumpster. His light illuminated the small space there, and he saw¡­ nothing. Rising, he cast his light across the tall wooden fence at the back of the alley. ¡°Shit, man, there¡¯s nothing here. Maybe she got over that somehow?¡±


    ¡°Or maybe she never came down here,¡± his partner replied with a shrug. ¡°Whatever, let¡¯s check in. Maybe someone else picked up the trail.¡± He gave one last look around with his light before turning to leave the alley. ¡°Come on, smells like shit back here.¡±


    The two of them left the alley, muttering to each other. A few seconds after they were gone, the moldy mattress shifted, jerked against the ground, and then a hand emerged from the far side of it. Izzy Amor hauled herself out of the mattress. She had spotted a hole in one side of it and had managed to tear it open enough to shove herself inside. It wasn¡¯t that hard, given how much of the interior of it was missing. There, she had curled into a tight ball in a space barely large enough to hold her small form, using her hands to keep the hole in the mattress closed while the men talked. She¡¯d thought she had been caught when the man kicked the mattress, but all he¡¯d done was shift it a bit to look behind it.


    Kicking her way free of the dirty, disgusting mattress, Izzy crouched there. Her arms folded tightly around herself as she stared toward the mouth of the alley. The girl¡¯s face was still stained wet from tears, but she forced them back while slowly rising to her feet. There were people yelling back and forth to each other, beams of light occasionally flicking past the alley. They were out there, looking for her. She had no phone, no communicator, no costume, and she couldn¡¯t use her powers without horrific pain. Not yet, anyway. That Handler guy¡¯s power hadn¡¯t worn off.


    Six more blocks. The nearest entrance to the Minority base, using one of the dozen or so spread across the city (entrances which all accessed the same building thanks to the Ten Towers Tech-Touched known as Switchshift), was six blocks away. Six blocks. She could get there. She¡­ she could¡­


    Mom. The thought wormed its way into Izzy¡¯s mind, and she cringed as those same tears threatened to overwhelm her once more. Mom. Mama. Her mother¡­ her mother had sold her, had literally sold her to the bad guys to be tortured and trained into¡­ into¡­


    Covering her mouth with a hand, Izzy restrained the horrified sob of anguish and grief. Bottling up those feelings, she pushed herself to her feet and carefully made her way to the wooden fence. With actual time now, she climbed up and over it, dropping into the alley on the opposite side before quickly crouching in the corner as an Oscuro car drove slowly past, more men leaning out the windows, scanning the streets for her.


    Six blocks. She could make it six more blocks. Taking a breath, the temporarily powerless girl made her way swiftly to the end of the alley and looked around. The Oscuro car was turning the corner, while two men at the opposite end of the street walked around the other way. She had an opening, and took it, darting out and running to the next alley over.


    Six more blocks. Stay low, stay quiet, keep moving.


    And don¡¯t think about Mama. Push it down. Shove it down. Focus.


    She almost made it. Almost. Just as Izzy was crossing the last street, eyes centered on the building she needed to get to, there was a sudden screech of tires as a dark sedan came screaming up to block her path. Several Oscuro troops were inside, pointing their guns at her as the driver (whose side she was facing) snarled, ¡°Hey kid, going somewhere?¡±


    Stumbling back, her eyes darted around, but there was nowhere to go. She was out in the open. They were pointing guns at her, she¡­ she¡­ had to use her power. The very idea made her nauseous. Not just because of the pain, which had¡­ probably worn off by now, but because she was exhausted. She¡¯d used it so much all night long to put out the fires at the hospital. She was tired, she was sore, she¡¯d been up for too long, had used her power too much, and now¡­ now she had to use it again. She had to, even if the thought of even trying to summon up more of it made her want to curl into a ball and throw up.


    ¡°Aww,¡± the driver with his sawed-off shotgun pointed at her taunted, ¡°what¡¯s the matter? Is the little bitch gonna cry cuz we¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, a giant silver hand, bigger than the sedan itself, burst out of the ground at the front of the car. A second appeared at the back. The two hands took the front and rear of the vehicle between giant fingers and ripped it apart with a scream of tearing metal. The inhabitants were dumped to the ground, crying out and cursing. One man tried to shoot at Izzy, but the two hands had already broken apart, reforming into a single wall between the girl and her attackers.


    A figure dropped from the building above before landing lightly on his feet. He straightened up, and Silversmith stood there, just beside the wall he had created. ¡°Gentlemen,¡± he started flatly, ¡°throw down your guns, and¨C¡±


    Several of the men opened fire. The bullets did nothing to the Conservator leader¡¯s gleaming metal armor. They didn¡¯t penetrate, but nor did they ricochet away. Ricochets would have potentially endangered other people. Instead, as the bullets struck the strange, Touched-summoned metal, it rippled slightly, almost like water. Tiny tendrils of liquid-metal encompassed each bullet where it struck, holding onto it to arrest its momentum before letting it go so the bullet would fall harmlessly to the ground. It all happened in a millisecond, impossible to see with the naked eye. Each bullet would start to penetrate the liquid-like spot of armor, get caught by the miniscule tendrils, and was then pushed out to fall onto the pavement in a shower of metal. To the naked eye, it looked like the bullets were hitting the man and simply falling to his feet.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Silversmith said simply as the men interrupted his attempt to offer them a chance to surrender. His hand gave a dismissive wave, instantly sending a dozen small balls of liquid metal at them. The first six orbs reshaped into blades, solidifying just in time to cut through the weapons the half-dozen men were holding. Their guns were sliced in half, falling uselessly to the ground. Just behind those, the remaining six metal balls of metallic liquid formed into handcuffs. They snapped around each man¡¯s wrists at once before hoisting them off the ground. With a collection of screams, the six Oscuro troops were hurled backward by the cuffs and suspended ten feet off the ground by their wrists against the wall of the nearby building.


    He turned to Izzy then, his voice softening. ¡°Are you¨C¡±


    Izzy threw herself at him. Her arms went around his waist, and she clung to the man, unable to hold back the blinding, inescapable tears that poured from her eyes as she openly sobbed. Her body shook violently, while she tightened her grip. She was awash in an ocean of grief, and the man was her only life preserver.


    ¡°Shhh,¡± Silversmith murmured, sinking to one knee before taking the girl into his arms. ¡°It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re safe.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got you.¡±

 Showdown 7-09

    Citing exhaustion after everything that had happened, which wasn¡¯t exactly a stretch, I let Eits drive me back to the store where all that fighting had happened. The two of us sat in that car, staying quiet for the first part of the drive before he looked to me. ¡°You believe me when I say I won¡¯t tell anybody about you, right?¡±


    I shrugged a bit. ¡°I don¡¯t really have much of a choice, do I? My black paint only lasts ten seconds, and I can¡¯t exactly follow you around constantly reapplying it just to keep you quiet.¡±


    He gave me a brief look, coughing once. ¡°Why do I feel like you actually considered that for a second back there?¡±


    Flushing under the mask, I retorted, ¡°I was panicking, sue me. My identity is kind of sensitive.¡± With that, I turned a bit to stare at him. ¡°So when you promise you won¡¯t tell anybody, you really have to not tell anybody. I mean it. Not even Pack. Nobody. Don¡¯t even write it down. It could¡­ it could get both of us in deep trouble.¡±


    Because I was pretty sure if my parents found out who I was and even suspected that I knew about them, they¡¯d work to shut up anyone else who might know. That included anyone who had found out any hints of my identity. They wouldn¡¯t take chances.


    Eits looked uncertain for a moment, but finally nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you mean by that, but I think I¡¯ll just take your word for it. Like I said, I¡¯m not going to tell anybody about you. And I won¡¯t write it down or anything. I¡¯ll even try not to dream about it if that helps. No promises on that front though, subconscious Eits kind of has a mind of his own.¡±


    Another moment of silence passed before he offered, ¡°I guess we both know more about each other than we intended, huh? Funny how that works when you¡¯re not even trying.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything to try to find out who you are from that whole baseball thing. Now, I guess we both sort of have power over each other. We don¡¯t look into each other¡®s pasts or identities, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± he agreed readily. ¡°Just¡­ I swear this isn¡¯t me trying to pry, but when you talk about how dangerous it would be if anybody found out who you were, it doesn¡¯t sound like you¡¯re talking in general. You¡¯re afraid of someone specific. So, I just want to ask¡­ are you okay? Sorry, you don¡¯t have to talk about it. I just¡­ yeah, if you need anything or whatever¡­¡±


    Blinking in a bit of a surprise, I quickly shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m okay. I mean, you¡¯re not wrong about it being dangerous, but it¡¯ll be fine.¡± Pausing, I added a somewhat awkward, ¡°Thanks. But you know what? This is going to make having to come after you once we¡¯re on opposite sides again really awkward.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Like we said, you have ways of finding out who I am if I go too far looking into you, or give away any of your secrets. Besides, I am fully prepared to cool my heels in a cell if you grab me doing something bad. It¡¯s not like Blackjack won¡¯t get me out.¡±


    He paused then, head tilting. ¡°Err, did that sound like I was taunting you? Cuz I wasn¡¯t trying to taunt you. It¡¯s just¡­ uhh, yeah. La Casa look after their own. Blackjack has these strict rules about how much force we¡¯re allowed to use if we¡¯re actually caught, depending on by who, the situation, and everything else. The point is, we play nice and spend a little time in jail if we have to until the others resolve the situation.¡±


    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is,¡± I started slowly, ¡°you¡¯re not going to start screaming about me being a girl the second I catch you breaking into someone¡¯s system and lock you down for the cops.¡±


    He gave me a serious look then. ¡°Like I said, your secret is safe with me. I¡¯m not gonna tell anybody. I mean, I wouldn¡¯t exactly be happy about it, but I trust Blackjack. Besides, if you catch me breaking in somewhere, I deserve to be caught.¡±


    Snorting at that, I retorted, ¡°Pretty big words for someone who had to call me for help to get him off a roof, dude.¡±


    He was clearly blushing a little while waving that off with his hand. ¡°A crazy fluke. Totally not gonna happen again.¡± Sobering a bit then, the boy looked to me once more. ¡°You and me, we¡¯re good. I know the risks of what I¡¯m doing, and I¡¯m ready for the consequences if they come. You catch me fair and square, I¡¯m not gonna say anything. I swear. But you do have to catch me first.¡±


    Hesitating, I took a breath before pointing out, ¡°You could always just stop being a bad guy. Seriously, you seem really cool. It¡¯d be a lot easier to avoid any problems if you weren¡¯t stealing things anymore.¡±


    He sounded honestly regretful while replying, ¡°Sorry. I owe Blackjack, not to mention the rest of La Casa.  Without them, I¡¯d¡­ let¡¯s just say I¡¯d be in much worse shape.¡± Shrugging, he added, ¡°Besides, I hate to tell you this, but stealing things is kind of a rush. Beating security systems, finding a way around the guards, even dealing with Star-Touched like you. Some of the other Fell take it way too seriously, or they¡¯re just fucking monsters. Me, I just want to see if I can do it. And, like I said, I owe Blackjack more than I could ever describe.¡±


    There was a lot I wanted to say to that, but I wasn¡¯t sure how to phrase it. I also kind of wanted to ask the boy if he knew anything about a secret group who were paid by villains for the right to operate in the city. He was probably one of my best ways of getting more information about my family¡¯s organization. But I couldn¡¯t bring that up yet. I didn¡¯t want to endanger him if he went looking for information, and I still wasn¡¯t exactly positive about how much I should tell him anyway. I wouldn¡¯t be able to unring that bell once I brought it up, and I was pretty sure he would be able to figure out that there was a connection between me talking about how dangerous it was if someone found out too much about me, and this random mysterious shadowy organization. He could put two and two together.


    So, I just stayed quiet as we pulled into the back lot behind the store. There were a lot of people there. Mainly I saw La Casa troops of both the Touched and Prev variety grouped up on one side, and the four Minority people on the other. There was obvious tension in the area, and I hoped things didn¡¯t boil over. Quickly getting out of the car with a last look back toward Eits, I moved to Carousel and the others. ¡°They¡¯re not back yet?¡±


    Syndicate (or the one of him who was standing there) spoke up. ¡°No. According to those guys, this Jailtime asshole takes you into his own private prison and you have to find your way out.¡± He paused before muttering under his breath, ¡°Way better get out of there.¡±


    Unable to help myself, I asked, ¡°So where¡¯s Raindrop? I figured she¡¯d be with you guys, or at least show up by now.¡±


    Syndicate quietly answered, ¡°She¡¯s¡­ on vacation. She needed a break.¡±


    Okay, there was definitely something more to that, but before I could think about it too much, Carousel looked to me. ¡°Seems like you went many miles. Tell us you got the vials. All the danger this has fraught, it¡¯d suck to be for naught.¡±


    Wobble nodded, the huge guy looking to me. ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± he rumbled in a deep voice, ¡°if we went through all this and those vials are still out there¡­¡±


    ¡°Almost,¡± I assured them. ¡°We¡¯ve got all but one of them. And that last one¡­ well, it¡¯s with Pack and That-A-Way.¡± Looking back to the spot where the two had disappeared, I quietly added, ¡°So I guess that¡¯s another reason to hope they make it out.¡±


    Whamline spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re a pretty hard little guy to figure out, you know? You¡¯re obviously trying to help people, but you¡¯re also on friendly terms with villains like Blackjack and Pack. Not to mention that Eits guy. You¡¯re not a villain, but you say you don¡¯t want to join us either. So what¡¯s the deal? Do we have cooties or something?¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Turning away from where he had been staring at the La Casa people, Syndicate agreed. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve been trying to figure out why you¡¯re so adamant about staying on your own. I mean, you¡¯ve seen how dangerous it is out there. Look at your helmet. That was Cu¨¦lebre, right? He nearly killed you. And let me guess, you still don¡¯t want to join.¡±


    Blanching a bit out their interrogation, I gave a quick shake of my head while holding the broken helmet tighter. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, guys. I¡¯m just not a team player right now. You¡¯re right, I¡¯m not a bad guy. I just want to help people. But I have my own way of doing it. I don¡¯t mind helping out, I just can¡¯t join up with you.


    ¡°And I was helping Blackjack save his daughter. That¡¯s it. I don¡¯t agree with the guy or anything. I just don¡¯t think his kid should pay for what Blackjack does. I get why Ashton is pissed at him. But he took it too far.¡±


    The four of them exchanged looks, a silent conversation of some kind passing between them before Syndicate looked back to me. ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair enough for now. But we¡¯ve still got a lot of questions. Sorry, I¡¯m just pretty sure there¡¯s still something more behind your whole situation than you¡¯re saying.¡±


    Inwardly, I blanched while trying not to show any reaction in my body language. How could I just tell them to leave well enough alone without piquing their curiosity even more? If I acted like it was a big deal and tried to warn them, they¡¯d definitely dig deeper. And that could be really bad for everyone, considering my supervillain/hero father was basically their boss.


    So, I just did my best to shrug it off, deliberately changing the subject. ¡°Are you guys gonna be okay after all this? I mean, you were technically fighting alongside La Casa tonight too.¡±


    Carousel was the one who replied. ¡°They¡¯ll just have to let us explain. With that kind of danger, we couldn¡¯t abstain.¡±


    ¡°What she said, only less rhymey,¡± Syndicate agreed. ¡°At least for tonight, the truce was the best way to go. Two other gangs to fight, nobody¡¯s going to blame us for not jumping straight into fighting La Casa too. And like you said, in this case it was about saving a little girl. Even if she was the daughter of a supervillain.¡±


    Everyone stopped talking then, because the car with Blackjack himself had shown up. He stepped out of it, glanced over to us, and then said something to his men. After a brief back and forth, he approached, watching our reactions before speaking. ¡°I owe all of you a debt of gratitude for what you¡¯ve done tonight, and the risks you took to secure my daughter¡¯s medicine.¡±


    Wobble quickly asked, ¡°Don¡¯t suppose we could all trade in those debts of gratitude and get you to turn yourself in?¡± After a brief pause, he shrugged. ¡°It was worth a shot.¡±


    Chuckling in what sounded like genuine amusement, Blackjack nodded. ¡°It certainly was. But no, I¡¯m afraid tonight will not be the time you manage to talk a Fell-gang leader into surrendering. Given what I¡¯ve seen of you all, however, I would hardly be surprised to see you manage it at some point. I¡¯ll even wish you luck, given how my own organization could profit from such an event.¡±


    He was still nervous. I could tell that much just from watching the man. He was trying to play things off, but there was a certain tenseness to him. Probably because he was so close to finally saving his daughter. There was only one vial left, and he could do absolutely nothing about getting it back. He just had to stand here and wait to see if¡­ no, when Pack and That-A-Way got out of there. They had the last vial, and his daughter wouldn¡¯t be safe until they were here. But he could do nothing to influence it and clearly felt completely helpless. I knew the feeling.


    Before anyone else could say anything, there was a rush of motion from above and to the side, I quickly looked that way with the others, just in time to see Flea come leaping down to land between the Minority Touched (as well as me) and Blackjack. She was joined a second later by another female figure in a purple and white skin tight suit with a helmet not too dissimilar from mine. Dynamic, the Conservator speedster who could temporarily drain the powers from people she ran past in order to create energy constructs. She came skidding to a stop beside the other woman, both of them standing with their attention fully centered on Blackjack.


    ¡°Problem here?¡± Flea asked flatly, her voice full of warning. She had a sword in one hand, though she hadn¡¯t actually raised it. The tip was pointed at the ground. But her intent was clear.


    Syndicate quickly spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Nothing¡¯s changed since we reported in a few minutes ago. We¡¯re still waiting for That-A-Way.¡±


    Blackjack gave a slight nod. If he was at all intimidated or worried about the two adult Star-Touched, he gave no sign of it. I even saw him suddenly wave his hand back to motion for his own men to stay away. His voice was as calm as possible given the situation. ¡°Your protege is correct. We have all held to a truce this evening to focus on more important matters. I hope that can be maintained through these last few minutes.¡±


    Flea made a noise of curiosity. ¡°Few minutes? The way I understood it, we have no way of knowing when our people will get out of that prison. Unless you¡¯re privy to something the rest of us aren¡¯t?¡±


    She was trying to find out if his words had anything to do with his power, I realized. No one knew exactly how it worked, or how much information the guy could get.


    From the way he chuckled, the La Casa leader was just as aware of what she was doing. He bowed his head, seemingly in acknowledgment and approval of it before replying, ¡°Let¡¯s just say I have a certain level of optimism. Assuming our disagreements can wait until later?¡±


    Dynamic spoke up, her voice bright and cheerful. ¡°Oooh, by disagreements, you mean the fact that you¡¯re a super villain who keeps robbing and hurting people and we¡¯re supposed to take you to prison? Those disagreements?¡± She gave him a clearly embellished thumbs up. ¡°Sure, we can wait to bring you to justice. It¡¯s not like you¡¯re suddenly going to disappear. Though, you know, that would probably be the best super villain move ever. Just completely vanish so no one ever finds you? I wonder if¡ª¡±


    She stopped as Flea nudged her. I didn¡¯t know a lot about Dynamic, except for the fact that she was the youngest member of the Conservators. She¡¯d been part of the Minority only a year earlier. Not our Minority, but the one in the Utah/Wyoming area. On graduation, she¡¯d been picked up by none other than Silversmith himself.


    Did that definitely make her one of the bad guys, or was I just being paranoid? Dad would obviously want good Star-Touched in the city, or he wouldn¡¯t have anything to threaten people who didn¡¯t pay up with. But was she just a good recruit to have, or actually part of the shadow organization? Having a loyal person on the Conservators besides himself, and one who could actually drain people¡¯s powers at that, would be really useful for him.


    ¡°Paintball?¡± With a start, I realized that Flea had been trying to get my attention. When I looked that way, she gestured to the broken helmet in my hand. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Pausing, I swallowed before nodding. The brief memory flash of that lightning made my throat dry. I was really trying to focus on anything other than that. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I claimed in a voice that I was proud to say was only shaking a little bit. ¡°I just need a shower and a nap.¡±


    With an audible giggle, Dynamic blurted, ¡°Tell me about it, little dude. After all the shit that¡¯s been going around tonight, I could use a spa day.¡± She didn¡¯t seem nearly as tense as Flea was for standing in front of Blackjack. A sign that she was part of my parents¡¯ organization after all, or just her personality? I wished I knew for sure.


    Belatedly, I looked to the two Conservator Star-Touched. ¡°I¡­ I saw Silversmith fighting Cu¨¦lebre. Is he¨CI mean, are they still¨C¡± God, how stupid was this? My dad was an actual secret supervillain and I was still worried about his safety. What was wrong with me?


    For her part, Flea simply offered me a short nod, clearly having no idea what was behind my question. ¡°He¡¯s fine. Cu¨¦lebre escaped, but I promise, Smith made him regret coming out tonight.¡±


    With that, she turned her attention to the La Casa leader. ¡°It sounds like you treated these guys right.¡± She nodded to the Minority and me. ¡°So thanks. Still, I have to say, this truce only lasts until you get that vial and get out of here. We see you again tonight, this whole thing is gonna go differently, got it?¡±


    Blackjack started to respond, but before he could say anything, there was a sudden flash of light nearby. Everyone¡¯s eyes snapped there, as the light began to resolve into a figure. Or two figures. That-A-Way and Pack. The latter had all her lizards clinging to her arms and shoulders.


    As everyone stared, both girls staggered and stumbled a bit. They looked pretty haggard, worn out, and generally like they¡¯d been through a lot. Finally, they looked up to find everyone watching.


    ¡°Oh, hey, boss.¡± Pack¡¯s words were light, though she was clearly barely able to keep standing. ¡°Special delivery?¡±


    Then she held up the final vial. The last one. She held it out, letting her employer take it from her with a somewhat shaking hand. Clutching it, he turned and nodded to someone. A moment later, Ashton was brought out and sent stumbling to me.


    It was over. Blackjack finally had what he needed to save his daughter. After all that, we¡¯d actually pulled it off.


    And you know what, whether Dynamic was a secret bad guy or not, she was absolutely right about one thing.


    A spa day sounded really fucking good right about now.

 Showdown 7-10

    ¡°So that was how my night went,¡± That-A-Way informed Wobble and me a short while later, as the three of us stood just inside one of the store bathrooms. She and the other Minority Touched were watching carefully as I took the special suit off of Ashton. He had clothes on underneath, of course (none of us back at Wren¡¯s place had wanted to have anything to do with putting the suit on him otherwise), which must¡¯ve made wearing this thing pretty warm. Oh well.


    Wobble, taking up basically the entire doorway with his massive body and green medieval-like armor, stood with his arms folded. ¡°Sounds like this Jailtime guy¡¯s a real piece of work.¡± As he said it, the guy cracked his knuckles, each audible pop making clear, without words, just what he¡¯d like to do to that particular piece of work. ¡°Glad you made it out of his funhouse, Way.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, me too.¡± Unsnapping a couple of the clasps in the back of the suit after using the control box to retract the wires that were controlling Ashton¡¯s muscles, I added, ¡°You and Pack.¡± Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have brought up the fact that, technically, another villain had been involved in that whole situation. But I was sore and both mentally and physically exhausted. Besides, That-A-Way had just finished describing all the ways being with Pack had helped get her out of there.


    Speaking of Pack, she and the rest of La Casa had left along with their boss. I was sure I¡¯d talk to her soon (not to mention Eits, given¡­ given what he now knew about me), but for the moment, no one on either side had wanted to exactly¡­ push things. There was a brief truce to sort all this out, sure. Flea and Dynamic had both agreed to let Blackjack and his people go to avoid escalating things tonight, but had made it clear that the truce would not extend past that. Now they were outside with the rest of the Minority (aside from Raindrop, whose absence I still wasn¡¯t quite clear on beyond her apparently needing a vacation), making sure all the civilians were okay and sorting out the members of the Oscuro and Ninety-Niners who hadn¡¯t escaped. All the Touched were gone, unfortunately. Which made sense, considering how important they were. Of course people with powers would be the priority when extracting and escaping. Given Longhaul¡¯s presence, it was probably somewhat more surprising that there were any regular guys left behind to be arrested at all, honestly.


    Disconnecting the last of the suit, I pulled it down and off of Ashton, lifting his legs one at a time before taking the body part of the suit off and balling it up. Tucking the suit under one arm, I reached up, unclasped the helmet, and took it off his head with a muttered, ¡°There we go.¡±


    As soon as the helmet was disconnected from the guy, he took off running. Yeah, we¡¯d expected that. He got about three feet before stopping short as he saw Wobble standing in his way.


    ¡°Hiya, Sunshine,¡± the large boy greeted him, before flicking a finger to send a small, lazy pulse of force that knocked Ashton back several feet and to the floor, where he landed with a curse.


    ¡°That son of a bitch had me locked up, dumbasses!¡± Ashton blurted from where he was sprawled. ¡°False fucking imprisonment, kidnapping! He and his friends locked me in a little room until they could build that thing, shove wires and needles inside my fucking body, and parade me all over town just to get stuff for one of the worst villains in the city! Fucking arrest him! Cuz I¡¯ll tell you this much, I am going to press charges until he can¡¯t afford to put shoes on his fe¨Cohhh¡­ oh God.¡± In mid-rant, the man suddenly stopped. I could see very faint distortion waves in the air, going from Wobble¡¯s finger. It wasn¡¯t enough to knock Ashton down or anything, but he did abruptly turn, grab the nearby trash can, and throw up into it.


    ¡°He¡¯s right though,¡± That-A-Way put in a bit tiredly from where she was leaning against the wall. ¡°I mean, not the arresting you part. But there is something you¡¯ll have to do if you don¡¯t want the whole¡­ complicated issue of finally turning him in to come back and bite you in the ass.¡±


    Right, the detaining him thing. I¡¯d known that would come up, but it was always sort of just pushed out of my mind. Now that it was here and Ashton was making a fuss (because of course he was), all I could do was blink at That-A-Way and slowly ask, ¡°Something I have to do?¡±


    ¡°Ahem.¡± Behind Wobble, a voice spoke up. ¡°I believe I may be able to assist with this.¡±


    Wobble stepped out of the way and turned, revealing the woman in the doorway. She wore dark gold pants with black lines running down the sides to meet black boots. Her belt was black, and she wore what looked like a shirt of dark purple scale mail armor with a gold leather coat over it. Her face and head were covered by a black metal helmet with faintly glowing purple lenses where her eyes were. The voice that came out whenever she spoke was clearly projected, with a very faint electronic distortion that probably served to make it harder to identify.


    Caishen. It was Caishen, leader of the corporate-sponsored Star-Touched team known as Ten Towers. As the three of us (four once Ashton looked up from the trash can he had been heaving into) looked that way, she used her thumb to gesture back the way she¡¯d come. ¡°They¡¯re ready for Mr. Austin, if you two would like to take him out there? I¡¯ll stay with Paintball and talk him through the detainment application process. Believe me, I¡¯ve written enough of them to do it in my sleep.¡±


    ¡°Uh, she¡¯s got a point,¡± That-A-Way agreed with a shrug toward me. ¡°The Towers do that sort of thing all the time. You should talk to her about it. She¡¯ll help.¡± To the woman herself, she added, ¡°But don¡¯t make him fill it out right now, he¡¯s suffered enough today and we¡¯re all tired.¡±


    With a soft chuckle, Caishen promised to be nice. She then moved, allowing That-A-Way and Wobble to pull Ashton up by the arms and escort him out. He was, of course, ranting the whole way about how we were all going to hate ourselves as soon as Blackjack killed someone again. Which might¡¯ve been fair to an extent, but he didn¡¯t have any room out on that moral ledge.


    Left standing there with the rolled up control suit under one arm and the helmet to it in that hand, I reached out to pick up my own broken helmet from the sink. ¡°Uh, detainment application? Sorry, context aside, that kind of sounds like I¡¯d be applying to be detained.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it does, doesn¡¯t it?¡± the woman agreed easily, offering me a very slight nod. ¡°Actually, it¡¯s the opposite. You see, as a recognized Star-Touched, you are, in your identity as Paintball, allowed to temporarily detain prisoners whom you have probable cause to believe committed a crime or were in the midst of doing so. You should know that much by now. Flea gave you cuffs for that very purpose, I believe.¡±


    When I nodded, she went on. ¡°Now, where it gets a little complicated is in the question of how long you can detain someone before turning them over. It has become remarkably clear over the past two decades of Touched actions that there are times when it is simply unwise or even impossible to immediately turn over a captured Fell-Touched or Fell-Adjacent prisoner to the authorities. There could be any number of reasons for this, from an ongoing and current threat making travel to the authorities difficult or even dangerous, to the authorities being ill-equipped at that particular time to hold the prisoner, to more¡­ varied reasons. The point is, it was decided that each instance of such detainment would be judged on a case-by-case basis, so long as the one or ones doing the detaining were still in good standing with the local authorities. In other words, as long as the locals see you as generally good, you get a bit of leeway as far as exactly when you turn someone over. Normally this is only up to a couple of days on average, but there are extenuating circumstances that push it further. As I said, case by case basis. That¡¯s where the detainment application comes in. You submit the paperwork explaining why you detained this Mr. Austin guy, detail your reasoning in why turning him in immediately would have presented a threat and that you turned him over as soon as reasonably possible. You¡¯ll have to report in to explain to a judge that he was treated well, that he was not injured, starved, or anything else under your care and the judge will make the decision about whether it was proper.¡±


    This was all really complicated. I¡¯d never known that people out there doing the hero thing had to do all this other stuff too. I already knew from Flea that I¡¯d need to go to court once a month to give depositions about the people I¡¯d helped catch, and now there was this too. Not that it was a bad thing. Actually, in this case, the fact that they had a system like that set up to let independent Touched explain why they detained someone was indisputably a good thing. It was just¡­ a lot to get used to.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Apparently interpreting my brief silence as worry, Caishen assured me, ¡°In this case, I¡¯m fairly confident that you¡¯ll be fine. The threat presented by the bounty against Mr. Austin made keeping him safe from gang reprisal or capture quite important. In addition, the possibility of Blackjack and La Casa becoming a much greater threat to the populace should his daughter¡¯s medicine not be recovered, as well as the threat to the girl herself, are strong contributing factors. Just include all of that in your paperwork, tell the judge in person when they call you in, and you should be okay. I¡¯m assuming you fed the prisoner and didn¡¯t mistreat him?¡±


    I nodded once. ¡°I¨Cyeah, he¡¯s fine. I mean, still kinda crazy and all because of¡­ his friend dying and all.¡± Swallowing at the thought, I pushed on. ¡°But still, he¡¯s physically okay.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Caishen replied simply, ¡°then there shouldn¡¯t be an issue. The threat to his life was obvious, the threat his actions presented to both the city as a whole and to Blackjack¡¯s unidentified daughter is well-documented, and you turned him over in good condition. Just fill out the form and turn it in. Ah, I¡¯m assuming you don¡¯t have the form itself handy. Come to the Ten Tower offices first chance you get and one of our people will have a stack for you. If you like, someone will even help you fill it out.¡±


    ¡°Why would you do all that for me when I don¡¯t even¨C¡± I hesitated. ¡°I mean, when I¡¯m not even working for you or anything. Hell, I just barely met you and I don¡¯t actually have any kind of history with your people or¨C¡±


    ¡°I like to cultivate positive relationships with important people,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Or people who could become important. And from what I¡¯ve seen, you¡¯re well on your way. Look what you¡¯ve done in just the past couple of weeks. And at the people you¡¯ve managed to annoy. Like Cu¨¦lebre.¡± For a moment, the woman paused as though considering before adding, ¡°So, let¡¯s just say I believe in helping to raise up and encourage people who are going to do good for this city. That¡¯s just good business. The more stable things are, the better it is for the companies that Ten Towers represents. They make money. We make money. Everyone¡¯s happy. Instability is bad for business, and bad for profits.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ good, I guess.¡± Biting my lip behind the mask, I asked, ¡°So just show up and someone will know what I¡¯m talking about?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure of it,¡± she confirmed. ¡°But for now, I suggest you get home. You look dead on your feet, and I¡¯m pretty sure you have school tomorrow, wherever you go. And hey, good job tonight. You may not know just how much, but you saved a lot of people by heading off that little gang war.


    ¡°And on another note, you should really think about applying to Ten Towers when you¡¯re old enough. This whole painting stuff across your costume thing would be a gold mine for advertisers.¡±


    ********


    Right as Caishen might have been about me being tired, I didn¡¯t go home after leaving the scene at the store. Instead, I made my way back to Wren¡¯s place. No way was I just going to go home and crash without talking to the others first. Not after everything that we¡¯d all gone through. Besides, I still had to give Wren back the suit and helmet so she could extract the Seraph thing from it. Then I¡¯d return it and this whole thing would be over.


    Except for the part where Eits knew I was a girl. Yeah, we¡¯d talked it through and he promised not to use it against me or anything. And I was almost positive I could even trust him to do what he said. But it¡­ it still made me nervous. Was that bad? Was I bad for not just¡­ completely and one hundred percent believing him even after we had that whole conversation in the car? I did believe him. I did. Mostly. But that tiny hint of doubt that sat in the pit of my stomach was just¡­ I couldn¡¯t stop poking at it.


    My parents lied to me my whole life about what kind of people they were. Could I really trust Eits to not just change his mind and end up using what he knew at some point? Was it dumb to keep dwelling on it when I couldn¡¯t change anything? What else was I going to do about it besides hope that he was telling the truth and didn¡¯t change his mind?


    Shaking off those thoughts as I landed in the parking lot of Wren¡¯s place (after making sure no one was following me this time), I headed in. The door buzzed to unlock as I approached, and I opened it.


    Wren and Pack were down there. I could hear Fred in the room we¡¯d used as a cell for Ashton, apparently cleaning it out. As I appeared at the bottom of the stairs, Wren flung herself at me, hugging tight. ¡°You did it!¡± she blurted. ¡°You got all the medicine!¡±


    Coughing, I returned the hug before releasing her to step back with a look toward Pack. ¡°So, it¡¯s all good then?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Blackjack¡¯s got all the vials and he¡¯ll be keeping them right at home now. The girl¡¯s gonna be fine. And ahhh, he said this was for you.¡± Reaching into a bag at her side, she pulled out a black fanny pack-sized pouch and tossed it to me.


    Catching it, I looked inside. Cash. A hundred thousand in cash, just as he¡¯d promised. At least, I was assuming it was a hundred thousand. It was all in a mix of fifties and hundreds, and I wasn¡¯t going to stand there and count all of it right then. From everything I¡¯d heard and experienced, Blackjack was a man of his word. If he said he would pay a hundred thousand, I believed him.


    Holding the pouch in one hand, I managed a very faint smile as I looked to Pack. Her lizards were all in a cage nearby. ¡°I guess this is it then, huh? At least until I catch you doing something bad out there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, then we¡¯ll just have to fight for real,¡± she replied casually. ¡°I¡¯ll try to take it easy on you, since you¡¯ve been pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks,¡± I retorted, shrugging one shoulder. ¡°And I¡¯ll do my best not to let the cuffs hurt too much when I put them on.¡± Pausing then, I grimaced. ¡°This is gonna be awkward when it comes up, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± she agreed easily. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll take it as it comes.¡± To Wren, she added, ¡°Good luck with everything, kid. Err, sorry, guess I should call you Trevithick, huh?¡± Sobering, she nodded seriously. ¡°Good luck. I¡¯ll see you around.¡±


    With that, Pack picked up her lizard cage and headed out. I watched her go, listening to the sound of the door opening and shutting before looking to Wren. ¡°Maybe she¡¯ll miss all this and get tired of being a bad guy. But hey, we did good anyway.¡±


    ¡°Really good!¡± Wren agreed enthusiastically. ¡°They got the vials and¡­ and the suit worked. And you didn¡¯t die!¡±


    Chuckling, I murmured, ¡°That last one¡¯s definitely a bonus. Anyway, here.¡± Extending the suit and helmet to her, I informed the girl, ¡°Extract the thing whenever you can. I¡¯ll get it back to the Seraphs first chance after you do that.¡± Even as I finished saying it, an audible yawn escaped me. It had been a long evening.


    ¡°Sounds like Wren isn¡¯t the only one who needs to get some sleep,¡± Fred noted as he emerged from the other room with a mop in one hand. ¡°I hate to pull the adult card given my track record, but isn¡¯t it about time for that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m on my way,¡± I agreed before opening up the pouch once more. ¡°But first¡­¡± Carefully, I extracted some of the bills from the pouch. About ten thousand dollars for an emergency fund, just in case. I would put it somewhere safe. The rest of the pouch I tossed to Wren. ¡°Should be about ninety thousand in there. That¡¯s your sixty percent plus my first investment.¡±


    ¡°Ninety¡­ ninety thousand dollars?¡± For a moment Fred looked like he might faint, stepping over to look at the pouch in Wren¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Like I said, we¡¯re in this business together,¡± I reminded them. ¡°Use that to start getting set up. I know it¡¯s not like¡­ unlimited funds or anything, but it should help get off the ground a little bit. We¡¯ll figure out what you can put together that we can sell and go from there.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you really believe what you said,¡± Wren murmured in an awed voice that cracked just a little as she looked up to me. ¡°You just¡­ you just gave us all this money because you think we can really do it.¡±


    ¡°I know we can,¡± I corrected. ¡°I know you can. It¡¯ll be great. Just¡­ worry about it tomorrow. For now, Fred¡¯s right, we need to get some sleep.¡±


    After exchanging a few more brief pleasantries, I headed out. Leaving Wren¡¯s place, I looked around before finding a nearby alley with a loose brick. Pulling it out, I hid the phone that Eits had given me in it. I¡­ mostly trusted him, but taking a phone that a guy who could manipulate technology had given me back to my home felt like a bad idea in general. Just in case, I wasn¡¯t going to risk it. So, I hid the phone there for the time being, to deal with later. I¡¯d have to get a real new phone of my own.


    But for the moment, I simply stepped out of the alley, stood by the street, and breathed in.


    It was over. Well, for the most part. Ashton was with the authorities. Blackjack had his vials so his daughter would be safe. And sure, Cu¨¦lebre was definitely even more pissed off at me, I still didn¡¯t know enough about my family¡¯s evil empire to do anything about it, I still owed Deicide that favor, Eits knew I was a girl, I wasn¡¯t sure why Izzy was living with us, I was going to have to prove to a judge that I¡¯d done the right thing in keeping Ashton locked up¡­ and probably something else I was forgetting.


    But that was stuff to worry about another day. For the moment, I was going home, where I was going to fall into bed and sleep for¡­ oh. For a few hours, apparently, considering there was still school in the morning. School where I would have to somehow be conscious enough to give my part of that big project Jae, Amber, and I had been working on. And that was something I definitely couldn¡¯t miss. Mostly because I¡¯d never be able to explain to the other two why I wasn¡¯t there.


    But it was kind of fun to imagine the looks on their faces if I tried.

 Interlude 7A - Pack and That-A-Way

    With a flash of light and a pair of yelps, two figures appeared in the air in the middle of a large corridor and fell to the floor in a heap. They were tangled up there for a moment, lying on that hard stone floor. Each of them was equally disoriented and confused, almost violently pulling away from each other and scrambling backwards with their guards up as they stared wide-eyed at one another.


    ¡°Pack?!¡± That-A-Way blurted out loud, her voice high-pitched and clearly completely lost in that moment.


    Pack¡¯s own voice was just as baffled. ¡°Way? What¡­ what the fuck is¡ª where the hell are we?!¡± Even as she said it, the girl was scrambling to her feet, looking up and down the hall. ¡°Is¡­ is this a fucking prison?¡±


    It was. The hall they were in was lined with cells on each side. They were small, simple affairs with iron bars covering the front of a tiny room that had the metal frame of a cot bolted to the floor and a sink next to a toilet. Dozens of cells, visible as they looked up and down the hall, were the same. Heavy and clearly reinforced metal doors lay at either end.


    ¡°Well fuck this,¡± Pack announced, already heading for one of the doors. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the fuck this is, but I¡¯m leaving. You coming, Minority chick?¡±


    After a brief moment of confused staring, That-A-Way jolted a bit, eyes widening. ¡°Wait, I know what this is. I¡¯ve heard of this guy, he¡¯s newish.¡± She shot a look to the other girl, who had stopped to look at her. ¡°Jailtime. He calls himself Jailtime. This whole prison, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s in some isolated place¡­ or completely created by his power or¡­ or something. Anyway, he touches you and brings you here and you have to find your way to the exit. Then you get teleported back to where you were.¡±


    Pack stared at her for a moment. ¡°Are you serious? The hell kind of power is that? Just teleport people to one location and wait for them to leave?¡±


    That-A-Way shrugged. ¡°I think there¡¯s more to it, but I can¡¯t remember. Like I said, he¡¯s really new. The Ninety-Niners pretty much just picked him up.¡±


    Cursing under her breath, Pack tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling before muttering, ¡°What¡¯s with those guys and Touched who take you somewhere against your will like that? They¡¯ve got Ringside too. And I¡¯m counting Longhaul.¡±


    Distractedly shaking her head, the other girl replied, ¡°Maybe they put out a really specific want ad. All I know is we have to get out of here and back to help the others. So come on.¡± Even as she said it, the girl was heading past Pack to the nearby door. She was trying not to think about everything that could have already gone wrong back there while they were talking.


    Pack exhaled, glancing around once more before following. ¡°Can you just teleport us out the quick way?¡±


    That-A-Way¡¯s head shook. ¡°I have no idea where we are, what this place looks like, what might be around, or anything. I need to have some vague idea of where I¡¯m going if we don¡¯t want to end up inside a wall or something. If it even works at all.¡± With that, she reached out to put her hand on the other girl¡¯s arm. ¡°But this way is south, so we can just walk right through¡­¡± While saying it, she turned herself and Pack intangible and went right through the door.


    Or she tried to. Despite the fact that the two of them were definitely intangible, the door held firm and they walked right into it with a pair of surprised grunts.


    Laughter erupted from behind them, and both reeled back while turning to find the guy who had brought them here. Jailtime, wearing his clich¨¦ black and white striped prison uniform with the number placard and simple mask, was doubled over laughing to himself. ¡°Oh man, that was amazing! That was totally worth being quiet and letting you stupid bitches ramble for so long. Can you do that again, because I didn¡¯t have my camera ready and you two really owe me for putting up with listening to you. Come on, maybe if you run at it really fast, you can get through! Give it the old college try! I mean, I know you¡¯re both too dumb to ever go to college, but let¡¯s just pretend. It¡¯ll be great. I promise to clap.¡±


    Glancing to each other silently, both girls suddenly threw themselves that way. It was north, so That-A-Way teleported past the guy to appear behind him, turning to grab him. At the same time, Pack launched herself into a tackle.


    Jailtime turned to smoke, floating into the nearby wall and disappearing just in time for the two girls to collide with one another. They went to the floor in a heap again, while his laughter filled the hall.


    Pulling away from the other girl, Pack angrily lashed out with a foot, kicking the wall where the smoke had gone. ¡°Get out here and fight, you fucking coward!¡±


    His disembodied voice filled the hall. ¡°Now why would I do that when we¡¯re having so much fun this way? Well, I¡¯m having fun anyway, and that¡¯s what really matters, isn¡¯t it? But if you bimbos really want someone to fight, never say I¡¯m not accommodating to guests.¡±


    Both girls stood up warily then, just as the heavy doors to either end of the prison hall opened and several large figures stepped through. They looked like prisoners, only featureless ones. They were men with no faces, only the vague shape on their bald heads where a face would be. No noses, no eyes, no mouth. They clearly weren¡¯t real people. But their fists were real, as were the chains and knives that several clutched as they approached. Or, they were at least real enough to hurt, and neither Pack nor That-A-Way had any desire to see just how real they could be.


    Without missing a beat, Way grabbed the girl beside her, teleporting both of them behind the group to the north. As they arrived, Pack already had her shotgun out, and pumped a heavy beanbag round right into one of their backs, before turning the barrel slightly to shoot again into the next one. Both hit the floor from the force of the impact at such close range.


    That-A-Way, meanwhile, shoved her taser into the neck of a third one. It did nothing, the being just turning to smack the weapon from her hand before punching at her face. But she was facing south, so the girl went intangible to let the fist pass through her. Then she pivoted around him, facing east to activate her invulnerability while lashing out with as hard of a punch as she could manage. She didn¡¯t have superstrength, but the invulnerability meant she could hit a lot harder without hurting herself. Her fist slammed into that featureless face, staggering the figure.


    Before it could recover, she slipped around the opposite side of him, activating her super speed as she grabbed the simulacrum by the arm and waist. With a grunt, she spun, using her speed to hurl the figure to the ground near the door. ¡°Pack!¡± She blurted out loud, even as the figure was starting to pick itself up, barely dazed. If it was even possible to actually daze these obvious automatons.


    Pack didn¡¯t need an explanation. Hopping over the outstretched arms of one of the figures she put on the floor, the girl raised her shotgun once more. A pull of the trigger sent the next heavy round right into the non-face of the figure Way had tossed. The shot completely caved in the front of the head, and the figure reeled backwards and fell. His body prevented the door from closing. Both girls lunged that way, throwing themselves through it just as the body disappeared and the door slammed shut behind them with a heavy clang.


    Out of that first hallway, the girls were now in a narrower one with no cells. It curved out and around, the corridor continuing out of sight. Behind them, the door was starting to open again as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from those things grew louder.


    Grabbing Pack¡¯s hand, That-A-Way teleported to the end of the curve, as far ahead as she could see. The hall continued that way, a wide curve arcing away from the place they had just left. It was still generally north, so she teleported a couple more times, each as far as she could see. It would give them a little bit of a head start, assuming their captor didn¡¯t just create new ones or teleport the ones he had around or something.


    At the end of the widely curved hall was a large set of bars, a heavy gate. Beyond that was a fairly small area followed by another barred gate that blocked an equally small room with a door.


    ¡°Like an airlock,¡± Pack realized. ¡°They open the gate on one side, make sure only the people that are supposed to go through get into that small area, close the gate on that side, then open the other gate.¡±


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    ¡°Yeah,¡± the other girl agreed before heading that way. ¡°Well, good thing we¡¯re not waiting for anyone to let us through.¡±


    The steady sound of many approaching footsteps from the direction they had come propelled That-A-Way to take Pack by the hand once more and teleport through both sets of gates to reach the room on the far side. Just as they arrived, however, that entire space was flooded with arcs of electricity. Both girls jerked away from each other with pained yelps before falling. They lay on the floor for a moment, dazed and out of it. Both knew they had to move, but the brief shock of electricity left them unable to focus even as the footsteps drew nearer. The by-then familiar sound of mocking laughter accompanied the footsteps.


    The gates opened, letting the faceless figures move through toward the prone girls. However, just as the nearest one extended its hand toward Pack¡¯s masked face, there was a squeal of fury from above. All of the figures turned that way, as a grate on the ceiling came popping open and a small, scaled figure dropped through to land on the head of the automaton that had been reaching out.


    It was Tuesday. The monkey-lizard wasn¡¯t that big, but was quite strong for his size and was currently motivated by the blinding rage he felt on behalf of his owner. Making his paws into fists and putting them together, he brought them down in a sledge hammer blow against the top of the automaton¡¯s head.  It caved in, and the figure collapsed just as Tuesday ripped the arms from its sockets and use them to bash in the heads of the next two while dropping to the ground. They staggered back, and the others hesitated while the monkey lizard bared his teeth and chest, swinging both of the broken automaton¡¯s arms menacingly.


    That-A-Way, by that point, had recovered enough to sit up and grab one of the arms from Tuesday. He hissed in surprise, but stopped upon seeing who it was, even as the girl stumbled to her feet and turned intangible while lunging toward a metal coil sticking out from the wall that was already starting to spark with electricity. She shoved the intangible arm through the coil and released it, hopping back as the arm solidified, destroying the coil and stopping that electricity.


    ¡°Tuesday?!¡± Pack blurted. ¡°How are¡ªnever mind.¡± Even as she dismissed it, the girl was snapping her shotgun up to pull the trigger twice more, knocking a couple automatons away to fall against their companions as she scrambled up. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta go!¡± Even as she said it, the girl lunged at the gate and shoved it closed, trying to hold it in place while not letting the automatons grab hold of her.


    ¡°Love to,¡± Way retorted while yanking fruitlessly at the heavy door. ¡°But I can¡¯t teleport through this without knowing what¡¯s on the other side, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Through the vent!¡± Pack interrupted, still struggling to keep the gate shut while the automatons pushed against it. ¡°Go up!¡±


    Tuesday went first, leaping straight back up through the open grate he had appeared from. That-A-Way, meanwhile, grabbed Pack by the arm and turned to put herself behind the girl, hands on her shoulders as the two instantly crouched together, dropping almost prone in order to fit within the space they were about to occupy. Behind them, the gate banged open as the automatons barged through. But both girls disappeared, teleporting up into the shaft through the tiny opening that Way could see.


    There was almost no room up there, but the girls scrambled quickly along with Tuesday, moving through the shaft even as the metal under their hands and knees grew warmer by the second. Jailtime was retaliating against their narrow escape by heating up the shaft. It was already painful, making all three of them yelp a bit while scrambling toward the nearest next grate.


    Tuesday was in the lead, making pained yipping noises as he banged his fist down hard against the grate to slam it open before dropping through into the room below. The two girls were right behind him, cursing and yelping the whole way as they all fell into an undignified, but at least survivable pile.


    Now they were in a cafeteria of some kind, simple metal tables filling the room. At one end was the line of counters where food was handed out with a doorway into the kitchen. The other end of the room was the exit. An exit which was already open, as automaton figures pushed their way in.


    ¡°These motherfuckers don¡¯t give up, do they?¡± Pack demanded while quickly reloading her shotgun with shells pulled from within her costume. Tuesday had climbed up to hang from her back while hissing at the intruders angrily.


    Just as the three braced themselves to deal with yet another attack from their relentless pursuers, there was a loud roar. A figure on all fours leapt over the kitchen counter, raced past the trio, and threw itself at the automatons. The initial collision completely broke one apart, before a hard swipe of one large paw took the head off another that had stumbled.


    ¡°Holiday!¡± Pack blurted happily, already running that way to fire a shot at one of the automatons who was trying to grab the lizard-panther. Tuesday leapt off her shoulders to collide with another one.


    ¡°I am so glad I saved that beautiful freaking lizard,¡± Way announced while using her super speed to dash that way, colliding bodily with one of the automatons with enough force to send it flying back against the wall.


    Together, with a lot of help from the vicious Holiday, the group demolished the automatons to the point where they could no longer function. Pieces of the things lay around them while they all slumped a bit and panted.


    Unfortunately, only a few seconds passed before Jailtime¡¯s annoyed voice filled the cafeteria. ¡°Fine, you wanna play rough? Let¡¯s play rough.¡±


    With those words, the sound of twisting, grinding metal filled the room. The girls looked that way to see the tables contorting and twisting themselves, reshaping into metal figures, each with four long bladed arms and six legs. On top of that, the figures began to glow bright red from the waist up, including those arms and blades. They were clearly incredibly hot, and were rapidly approaching, skittering spider-like on their half-dozen legs. On the way, faces appeared on the half-formed heads, just enough for mouths to gape open, revealing lines of jagged metal teeth.


    ¡°Nope, nope, nope!¡± Pack announced, already pivoting to run for the exit. ¡°Fuck that, not doing it, let¡¯s go!¡±


    The door slammed shut on them, but almost immediately collapsed inward as another figure burst through from the other side and loomed in front of them with a roar.


    ¡°Mars Bar!¡± That-A-Way blurted. In that moment, she was as happy to see the enormous bear-lizard as she had been to see Holiday. ¡°Pack, how are your¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hell if I know!¡± the other girl interrupted. ¡°But I¡¯m not gonna fucking question it, let¡¯s just get the hell out of here. I¡¯m done playing this bastard¡®s game. Go!¡±


    Mars Bar stepped back, while the group joined him in the hall. There, they ran as Pack called, ¡°You guys know where the others are?¡± Because if this many of her creatures were in the prison, the remaining two would be.


    Her question was seemingly answered by a loud screech just as they reached a four-way corridor. That-A-Way pointed left, toward the sight of sunlight and freedom. ¡°Exit!¡±


    ¡°Riddles!¡± Pack had already turned the opposite way, toward the direction of the screech. ¡°Go, I¡¯m not leaving my friends!¡± She and the rest of her creatures ran toward the screeching sound, leaving the other girl standing there for a moment.


    After only the slightest hesitation, That-A-Way launched herself after the others, racing to catch up. Together, they burst into an obvious visitation room, where Riddles was flying back-and-forth over the tables, avoiding dozens of pens, knives, balls, plates, and any number of other small objects that were being flung through the air at her by an invisible force.


    ¡°Riddles, let¡¯s go!¡± Holding the door open as she called to the bird lizard, Pack watched as the flying creature dove between several more flying objects before reaching the entrance. She slammed the door shut just as a handful of knives collided with it, before turning. Riddles had landed on Mars Bar¡¯s head. ¡°Okay, now¨C¡±


    A sudden, incredibly violent and powerful force slammed into all of them. They were flung down the hallway and collided with the far wall before falling forward to the ground. As Pack looked up, she saw that Riddles, Mars Bar, Tuesday, and Holiday were all back in their regular lizard forms, having apparently been hit hard enough to knock them right back to normal. They all squeaked and scrambled over to her, climbing up the girl¡¯s arms. She and That-A-Way picked themselves up, just as Jailtime appeared in front of them.


    ¡°Okay,¡± the guy snarled, ¡°that¡¯s just about enough of that! Apparently it¡¯s time to really scare you bitches. Maybe if¡­¡± He trailed off at the sound of Pack chuckling. ¡°Why are you laughing?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± she echoed. ¡°Because when we were running through that hall back there, I found another friend. One that you missed.¡±


    ¡°What are y¡ª¡± That was as far as the guy got before the nearby door was suddenly ripped off its hinges, seemed to hoist itself through the air, and slammed into the guy so hard he was knocked into the opposite wall with a squeal. He turned into smoke and dissolved back into that wall, just as the slightly bent door dropped to the floor and Twinkletoes appeared.


    All around them, the prison seemed to shake with rage, the walls and floor grew hot, and more automatons emerged from various rooms, all of them bent on vengeance.


    ¡°Twinkletoes,¡± That-A-Way blurted, ¡°Jump on your mama with the others!¡±


    The gorillizard understood, jumping that way while shrinking back into his normal lizard form to land in Pack¡¯s outstretched hands. In the next second, while the floor under their feet grew too hot to stand on, That-A-Way wrapped her arms around the other girl and focused on the exit she had seen when they first got to that four-way intersection. The exit to the north.


    They teleported. Suddenly, That-A-Way and Pack, with the lizards clinging all over the latter, were right in front of the door. Sunlight and blue sky were in front of them. The two girls looked to one another briefly as an outraged bellow filled the burning hot prison behind them.


    Without wasting another second, they lunged for the doors and burst through together. The sweet sensation of open air washed over them for a moment.


    Then they were gone, leaving the prison, wherever it really was, behind.

 Interlude 7B - Molly and Ryder

    A/N: Molly was Eits¡¯ civilian name before he transitioned, as mentioned in 6-03.


    Just Over One Year Ago


    ¡°A one month shifting process, Miss Travers.¡± The heavyset man with the white bushy beard who looked like Santa Claus in a doctor¡¯s outfit spoke definitively as he sat behind his large oak desk in the wood paneled office. There were no windows in the room. Behind him was an array of certificates and diplomas. To his right were a few animal trophy heads, and a gently crackling fireplace was to his left. The room itself was fairly small, intended to feel like a nice cozy place.


    Except for the animals, Molly Travers supposed. Those heads on the wall probably didn¡¯t find it all that cozy or nice. It also honestly kind of seemed a little weird to have animal head trophies on the wall in a doctor¡¯s office. Let alone an active fireplace. But then again, this wasn¡¯t exactly a normal doctor¡¯s office.


    ¡°One month?¡± she echoed belatedly, suddenly realizing that she¡¯d been staring at the deer head in silence for a few long seconds. Quickly returning her gaze to the man in question, she added, ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s the best timeframe, Doctor Dyers?¡± Yeah, her doctor¡¯s name was Dyers. It could¡¯ve been worse though. He could¡¯ve been Doctor Losesallhispatients.


    Dr. Dyers was nodding. ¡°Yes, one month. As I told you when we started, permanent transition like this is different for each individual. The process is easier than it has been in the past with the technology we have access to thanks to Tech-Touched individuals, but that same technology requires a very specialized selection of treatments. We have to account for a lot of things. The process typically varies between two weeks and two and a half months. For you, one month is on the low end. But you know what I mean when I say one month, what that entails?¡±


    ¡°Taking a bunch of pills every twelve hours and visiting this place every other day without missing once,¡± Molly confirmed with a firm nod as she met the man¡¯s gaze. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know. I¡¯ve wanted this since I was a kid. Since before I knew what this was. I won¡¯t blow it off.¡±


    ¡°Our new techniques are far less invasive and easier,¡± Dyers carefully reminded her. ¡°Instead of full surgeries, you¡¯ll simply spend hours every other day inside the tank I showed you. You can sleep through most of it, or listen to an audio book or podcast if you¡¯d like. We have a selection, or you can bring your own and one of my assistants will be glad to set it up for you. Throughout the treatment, assuming you come every day, your body will gradually shift into its¡­ new and permanent form.¡± He offered a smile before sighing. ¡°All of that knowledge and agreement on your part does bring us to the unfortunately more¡­ mercenary part of the discussion.¡±


    ¡°Money,¡± she finished for him. ¡°You can¡¯t start the treatment until you get paid in full.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s for your benefit as well,¡± he assured her. ¡°There can be very bad reactions to starting this process and not finishing it. It¡¯s best that we have all those details in hand before day one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got the money,¡± Molly quickly informed him. She reached down to the duffle bag beside her chair, lifting it up with both hands to set on her lap. It was filled with cash. Cash she¡¯d managed to get over the course of the past couple of months thanks to her new little friends.


    She didn¡¯t know what to call them yet. Ever since she¡¯d touched that orb and gained her powers in the wake of her parents¡­ deciding they didn¡¯t want her to live with them anymore, she¡¯d worked her way through various ideas of what to call the tiny poltergeist-like creatures which allowed her to take over machinery and electronics. Gremlins, ghosts, geists, imps, none of that seemed right.


    All Molly knew for certain was that she made them with her power, and they were basically the only friends she had right now. With Grandpa Warner gone, the rest of her family had¡­ well, they¡¯d always made it clear how they felt about her declarations that she wasn¡¯t¡­ she.


    ¡°Not here,¡± Dyers informed her. ¡°We don¡¯t keep that kind of cash on hand, Miss Travers. Here.¡± He took a card from his desk and slid it over to her. ¡°Go to the address here and ask to meet with Ryder. Give him the cash, he¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s right and give you a receipt. Bring that here tomorrow and we¡¯ll get started, okay?¡±


    Molly agreed, standing up before shaking the man¡¯s hand with her own shaky, clammy one. Then she made her way out of the office and into the small hospital-like area beyond. She¡¯d been here often enough that she knew the route to the exit without help, moving through a short maze of corridors, then heading down a narrow set of stairs and out an unlabeled metal door.


    Rather than a real hospital parking lot or anything, that put her in a narrow alley. Because this wasn¡¯t a regular hospital. It was far less official, a place that didn¡¯t mind taking her stolen money. Money she had stolen from ATM¡¯s and things like that over the past few weeks in order to pay for this procedure. A procedure that would finally let her¡­ him¡­ her be him.


    And wasn¡¯t that confusing enough? Even standing here, right on the cusp of paying for a process that would finally¡­ finally allow her to look like the person she had always felt like, the years of her parents¡¯ violent, vitriolic reactions to her attempts to change her own pronoun had done its damage. The idea of thinking of herself¨Chimself as himself was¡­ scary. It was what she wanted more than anything else in the world, but it was so scary. Even thinking ¡®him¡¯ in her own head was enough to make her flinch, expecting her father¡¯s bellowing voice or raised hand.


    So, she¡¯d made a deal with herself. She would stick with ¡®her¡¯ until her outside matched her inside. She would answer to her, she would¡­ try to think of herself as her, even if¡­ even if that was wrong. But as soon as her change was far enough along to be noticeable, she would¡­ she would be he from then on. He would be the way he was supposed to be. Maybe she¡¯d have a party for herself then. Heh. Maybe she¡¯d have a party for himself was probably the better way to put that.


    That was stupid. She was stupid. Why was she stupid? Why didn¡¯t she feel the way she was supposed to feel? Her parents were convinced that she was doing this for attention, like dyeing her hair or getting a piercing or a tattoo. They thought she was just acting out to act out, or to betray them, or something like that.


    But the thing her parents had never understood was that she wasn¡¯t trying to be different. She was trying to be normal. That was it, that was the entire thing. They wanted her to be normal and she was trying to be. She was trying to look the way she felt. For her entire life, her body had felt wrong. Looking in the mirror had felt wrong. It had felt like she was puppeting her own body, like she was some foreign entity inside her own head. Her fingers didn¡¯t feel right. Her hair didn¡¯t feel right. Nothing fit the way it was supposed to. She was all just¡­ not right. Wrong.


    Her father was wrong. She didn¡¯t want to turn herself into a freak. She wanted to take the freak and make it normal. She wanted to be the person she was. That was it. She wanted to take the person she was on the inside and make that the person she was on the outside. She wanted¡­ she wanted to feel as though she belonged in her own body.


    Why couldn¡¯t she say that in a way her parents could understand? Why was she too stupid to find the right words? For years she had tried. For years she had failed. They had to exist. There had to be one perfect set of words in one perfect order said in just the right way that would make her parents finally understand. One set of words that would penetrate their fog of stubbornness and hatred.


    Then they¡¯d understand.


    Then they¡¯d take her back.


    Then they¡¯d love her.


    With a sigh, she started toward the end of the alley, throwing one of her helpers ahead to start the car that was already waiting there. Technically, she was only sixteen and had not passed her driver¡¯s exam. But that was far from the first of the crimes she¡¯d committed over the past few weeks. Particularly considering the car wasn¡¯t actually hers. She¡¯d return it later. She already knew that the owner never used it during the time he was at his office. By the time he came out, the car would be back in the same parking garage she¡¯d taken it from an hour earlier. Her little friends had already disabled all the trackers on the car and any other security system it had.


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    Checking the address on the card Dyers had provided, she used her power to direct the car that way while closing her eyes and leaning back a bit in the seat. It took about ten minutes to drive there. There, in this case, turned out to be an old apartment building. The front was boarded over, but there was a note on the card that said to go around back. So, she drove the car around that way, stopping in a spot close to the rear door and out of sight of the street.


    Unfortunately, she barely stepped out of the car before a truck came pulling up right in the same lot. Belatedly, she realized the truck had been back near the doctor¡¯s office too. Was this some kind of escort that hadn¡¯t been mentioned?


    No. No, it was not. She realized that immediately, as soon as the three men in the truck hopped out. One held a shotgun pointed at her, while the other two had metal baseball bats.


    ¡°Hey, bitch,¡± one of the guys with the bat snapped while taking a couple steps her way with the end of his weapon pointed at her. ¡°We keep seeing you going in and talking to that fucking piece of shit doctor. That fucking butcher. You going to him to get your tits cut off, you fucking freak? Because I¡¯ll tell you one thing. You want a cock where your cunt is? I can help you with that. For a few minutes anyway.¡±


    The door into the apartment building was close. But not close enough to escape that shotgun. And she had no idea what was on the other side. Maybe nothing for all she knew. That Ryder guy might not even be there. The door could be locked.


    ¡°Well?¡± The spokesman for the trio demanded while stepping even closer. He put the bat up under her chin. ¡°You¡¯re pretty cute. What do you say we show you what you¡¯re supposed to do with,¡± he used the bat to gesture all over her, ¡°all of this before you go getting all hasty and shit? Who knows, you might change your mind. What do you think, boys? You up for a little education? Maybe we won¡¯t break this one.¡±


    Powers. She had powers. But she¡¯d never used them offensively before. Not like this. And what good could they be right now? The guy was pointing a gun at her and would shoot her before she sent any of her friends out. And the one that was still in the car behind her wasn¡¯t going to be any help. It wouldn¡¯t be able to get anywhere before she was shot or beaten down. She wasn¡¯t a fighter. But she had to do something. She could scream. There could be people around. Screaming could help. Except for that gun. He¡¯d shoot her. She could already see it in his eyes. He was disgusted by her. He wanted to shoot her. He was just waiting for the word.


    If only they¡¯d waited one more month, her obituary could have listed her as the correct gender.


    Somehow, she found her voice. The words came as she looked into the eyes of the man with the bat close to her chin. ¡°I should warn you. You¡¯re right, I¡¯ve been looking for a good penis. But they¡¯re pretty hard to get. So if you put that thing anywhere near me, don¡¯t expect to get it back.¡±


    Rage and hate twisted the man¡¯s face as he reared back with the bat. She jerked backward but tripped, falling on her backside with a yelp. Her wide eyes jerked upward in time to see the bat descending toward her.


    A hand caught the end of the descending bat. Eyes snapping that way, Molly saw a new guy standing there. He was a few years older than her, a fairly tall black guy that stood a bit over six feet, with movie star good looks.


    ¡°Yo, asshole,¡± the guy with the gun snapped while pointing it toward the new arrival. ¡°This ain¡¯t got nothing to do with you. Fuck off.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, fuckknob,¡± the man whose bat had been caught snapped while trying to jerk the weapon away, ¡°take a fucking hike, we¡¯re busy.¡±


    If the guy who had caught the bat was bothered by the other man desperately trying to yank his weapon back, he didn¡¯t show it. The muscles in his arm tensed a little bit, but he held firm. ¡°No, see, that¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. This has got a lot to do with me. Cuz you know all those people who just stand there and bite their tongue while you spout off all that stupid bullshit you were just saying to this person right here? You know all those people who pretend they didn¡¯t hear anything, all the people who embolden you worthless fucking cocksuckers by going conveniently blind and deaf while you get away with all the shit you¡¯ve gotten away with your entire life?


    ¡°I¡¯m not one of those people.¡±


    With that simple declaration, the new guy snatched the bat fully away from its owner before instantly snapping it forward so that the handle hit the man in the throat. As he doubled over with a panicked wheeze, the guy pivoted, hurling the bat into the face of the man with the gun just as it went off. But the new guy had already kicked the doubled-over man backward into the path of the shot, and he took the brunt of it.


    Molly realized belatedly that she was screaming. Everything else happened in a blur that was too fast to follow. The guy who had been threatening her was down, bleeding out all over the pavement. The one with the gun had only gotten off that one shot before this stranger was right there, disarming him and putting him down just as quickly and efficiently.


    The man was¡­ was dead. Or dying. The man who had been threatening to¡­ to¡­ Yeah, somehow, she couldn¡¯t muster a whole lot of sympathy. These guys wanted to rape and kill her. And from the way they¡¯d talked, it wouldn¡¯t have been their first time. Yeah, not much sympathy. Yet, despite that, she also couldn¡¯t bear to look at him.


    But there had been three guys, right? Realizing that, Molly heard running footsteps. Her eyes snapped that way in time to see the third guy leaping into the truck. And he had something in his hands. Her bag. The bag with all her money that she¡¯d dropped when the men first arrived.


    ¡°No!¡± Molly shouted, scrambling to her feet. She held her hand out, reflexively summoning one of her little ghost friends to fly after the truck as it peeled out. But it wasn¡¯t fast enough. The truck roared out into the street and pulled away with a squeal of tires.


    With another almost animal scream, she started to throw herself after the departing truck. But the stranger caught her arm. ¡°Hey, hey. Bad idea. You¡¯ll never catch up.¡±


    Turning to stare at the black guy who had saved her, Molly opened and shut her mouth a few times. Her voice was a tiny whimper. ¡°He took my money. He took everything. I needed that. They won¡¯t help me. They won¡¯t help me without that.¡±


    The guy studied her for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re Molly, right? Yeah, I¡¯m Ryder. And that guy just took all the money you were supposed to give me. I¡¯d say we¡¯re both kind of screwed, but I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re in worse shape than me.¡±


    Obviously seeing the look in her eyes as she all-but collapsed inward on herself, the guy exhaled long and low. ¡°Fuck. I¡¯m sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood, and¡­ sorry. Look, maybe we can still work this out.¡±


    She stared at him, shaking her head. ¡°I can try to get more money, but it¡¯s gonna take a lot longer. They¡¯ve already started extra security procedures from me getting what I had before. I can try other things, but I¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing. I don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not¡­¡±


    Holding up a hand to stop her, Ryder interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re Touched. You did that thing with your little ghost gremlin thing. That¡¯s how you got all that money before, right? Yeah. Yeah, we can help each other. See, I happen to know about a certain group that¡¯s hiring people like you, with a finders fee. I think you¡¯ll do pretty well there, and they¡¯ll¡­ they¡¯ll take care of you.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± Molly asked hesitantly.


    Turning, Ryder beckoned for her to go around to the passenger side of the car she had arrived in while he stepped down into the driver seat. ¡°Let¡¯s go. There¡¯s gonna be cops on the way with that shotgun going off. I¡¯ll take you over to meet Blackjack and give you an introduction.¡±


    Molly had just gotten in when he said that name, her eyes snapping wide open. ¡°B-Blackjack? La Casa?¡±


    Ryder nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Like I said, they¡¯ll take care of you. He¡¯s a good guy to have in your corner. Let me do the talking when we get there. I¡¯ll make sure your signing bonus includes that procedure you want.¡±


    For a couple minutes as the guy drove, Molly just stared at him. Her voice, when she found it, quivered a little. ¡°Thank you. Thank you for saving me, and for all of this. Thank you. I just¡­ I didn¡¯t want anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to be myself. I just wanted to feel¡­ right. So¡­ so¡­ thank you, Ryder. And that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a pretty good name, by the way,¡± she added a bit awkwardly. ¡°I like it, Ryder. I mean, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not gonna take your name or anything just because¨CI mean. Um.¡±


    Another sigh came from the man. ¡°Look, don¡¯t thank me, okay? I just know how to get both of us a bit of what we want, and those guys back there¡­¡± He paused before muttering something under his breath that she didn¡¯t catch. ¡°And do whatever you want with the name. It¡¯s not my real one. Just like this¡­¡± His hand waved in front of himself. ¡°This isn¡¯t my real face. It¡¯s an illusion. So don¡¯t get any ideas about tracking me down later or whatever. That¡¯s not how this works. Just¨C¡± He stopped, eyes rolling up toward the ceiling of the car while they pulled into a lot. ¡°We¡¯re here, I¨C¡± There was a buzzing sound, and he took a phone from his pocket. ¡°Fuck. Yeah, I¡¯ve gotta handle this. You¡¯ll be good here, I promise. Get out, go inside, tell the guy at the front in there that the Squire sent you to talk to Jack B. Got it? Jack B. When you get to Blackjack, tell him your story, what you can do, all that. And tell him I get credit for picking you up.¡±


    Molly was silent for a moment. ¡°I¡­ um. Thanks. I know, I know, you just did it for the finders fee and all that and¡­ just¡­ thanks, Squire. Or whatever your name is.¡± She started to get out.


    ¡°Simon,¡± the guy quietly informed her. ¡°It¡¯s Simon. Here.¡± His hand flicked a card toward her. It was blank except for a phone number hand written on it. ¡°You get in trouble again, or this doesn¡¯t work out¡­ call me. But only if you really have to, you got it? I don¡¯t want you whining at me because you don¡¯t like your hair cut or whatever.¡±


    ¡°I got it,¡± she agreed while holding the card tightly. She stepped back after telling him where the car belonged, then shut the door and watched as it sped off with a squeal of tires.


    Looking up at the building in front of her, she swallowed hard. Blackjack? La Casa? Was this¡­ could she really¡­?


    Slowly, she walked to the door, starting inside. Honestly, she had no idea if Molly could actually do this, be a part of La Casa and actually use her powers for more than very petty crime.


    But maybe Ryder could.

 Friends And Enemies 8-01

    A scream, distant yet urgent, drew my head from its place buried under my pillow. It was still dark outside, and the illuminated clock on the wall (the one that was local time anyway considering I had a lot of them all set to different time zones so I could keep track of what time it was wherever my dad happened to be supposedly traveling) read five in the morning. The sun wouldn¡¯t rise for a couple hours. Everything was quiet. So why¨C


    The scream came again, as I sat there groggily staring at the wall. Before I knew what was happening, I¡¯d already flung my blankets off, half-tripping over them as I stumbled out of bed and ran for the door in my sweatpants and tee-shirt. I hit the hallway before my conscious brain actually caught up and I realized what the screaming was. Izzy, it was Izzy down the hall.


    Running that way, I reached the door of the formerly empty room that had been converted into Izzy¡¯s. There still wasn¡¯t much in there, just that bed, a dresser with some clothes that she and Mom had picked out, and a desk with a chair. Both of my parents had made it clear that they would get Izzy whatever she wanted or needed, but she just kept demuring from getting anything aside from the bare essentials. Mom had said something to me about not wanting to push the girl too far, too fast. She quite clearly wasn¡¯t exactly comfortable with any of this.


    And speaking of not being comfortable, the girl herself was on the floor instead of the bed. I had no idea how she¡¯d ended up there, but she was down there thrashing around. Her foot kicked the side of the bed a couple times while her fist hit the floor and she screamed. Like, full on screamed. It was like she was being tortured. Her body arched off the floor with that loud cry.


    Eyes widening, I hurriedly dropped beside the girl and grabbed her arm with one hand and the side of her face with the other. ¡°Izzy? Izzy, it¡¯s okay, you¡¯re having a nightmare. Izzy, it¡¯s¨C¡±


    And then I got punched in the face. The girl¡¯s eyes snapped open and the arm I wasn¡¯t holding swung up wildly, fist crashing into my mouth as she shouted something about leaving her alone. I reeled backward with a yelp, falling onto my backside while she scrambled up. She was on one knee, glaring at me before suddenly freezing in place, seeming to realize where she was.


    ¡°Izzy, it¡¯s okay,¡± I managed while holding a hand against my face. That hurt, damn. The kid packed a punch. ¡°You were just dreaming. I mean, having a nightmare, I guess. I heard you screaming from the other room, so I came to check and I guess I startled you or something¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she blurted, face immediately falling. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Tears had already filled her eyes as she fell backwards against the bed, knees drawn to her chest. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±


    ¡°Wha¨Coh, I know.¡± Quickly, I put both hands up placatingly, ignoring the pain in my lip. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t mean to. It¡¯s okay. You were just having a bad dream. A, uhh, really bad dream.¡±


    Swallowing hard, the younger girl took a few seconds to collect herself. She was trembling so much I thought she might need a hug or something, but I just wasn¡¯t sure how she¡¯d react to it. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready to go as soon as everyone¡¯s up,¡± she said in a quiet, somewhat shaky voice.


    Blinking at that, I shook my head slowly. ¡°Uh, ready to go where, exactly? What do you mean?¡±


    Still holding her knees against her chest, the girl stared at the floor rather than look at me. Her words were a quiet mumble. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready to leave as soon as your parents tell me to get out.¡±


    Well, that made me stare at her. ¡°My parents aren¡¯t going to kick you out of the house, Izzy.¡±


    The look she gave me was a mix of disbelief, exhaustion, and fear. ¡°Y-yes, they will,¡± she insisted in a voice that trembled weakly. ¡°I hit you in the face, Cassidy. I hit you. I hit their daughter. They¡¯ll never let me stay with them now. They won¡¯t let me sleep in the same house as you, let alone two doors down. They¡¯ll throw me into foster care in Idaho or something.¡±


    My mouth opened, then shut as I stared at her. Taking a second to collect my thoughts while she whimpered, I finally replied, ¡°Do you realize that¡¯s probably the most words you¡¯ve said to me all at one time since you got here?¡± I meant it to be gentle teasing, but she just flinched. Seeing that, I moved over and sat down next to the other girl with my back against the bed as well. ¡°Izzy, listen, you didn¡¯t mean to hit me. I know that. You were having a nightmare, right?¡±


    Drawing herself in tighter, like she had to make herself as small as possible before responding, Izzy slowly nodded. ¡°A nightmare¡­ yes. Yes, I was having a nightmare.¡± From the sound of it, there was a lot more to that. But I kind of doubted that she was in the mood to tell me any more.


    ¡°Right, you had a nightmare, you lashed out. It was an accident, and now it¡¯s over.¡± Stating that firmly, I turned to look at the girl beside me, trying to meet her gaze while she studiously stared at the floor. ¡°It¡¯s over, so we don¡¯t have to tell anyone. I mean, I know my parents wouldn¡¯t kick you out just for having a bad dream. But still, they don¡¯t need to know about it in the first place.¡±


    Izzy mumbled toward the floor, ¡°You said I was screaming. You heard it from your room and it woke you up. Don¡¯t you think your parents probably heard too?¡± Even as she finished saying it, the girl blinked up and frowned in confusion. ¡°Wait a second, how come they¡¯re not here yet?¡±


    Despite myself, I chuckled softly before catching it as she flinched. ¡°Izzy, first, this house is really big. Second, the walls are really soundproof. They were already pretty good before, but a few years ago Simon got really nuts with his music so Mom had them all redone. Now you could scream at the top of your lungs from here and they¡¯d never hear anything. Hell, you could be in the next room over and not hear anything. That¡¯s why we have the intercoms.¡± I pointed to the button on the nearby wall next to the door. ¡°You could also just say B-R-O-A-D-C-A-S-T without spelling it, then say ¡®now¡¯ followed by the name of the person you want to hear you or a specific room and the intercom will connect you without touching it. Like, modcap now kitchen. Or modcap now Elena. Except say broadcast instead of modcap.¡±


    Izzy stared at the intercom, then slowly looked at me. Her expression was still very lost and apprehensive, but she managed an utterly disbelieving, ¡°You guys have a lot of money.¡±


    It was my turn to blush, as I shrugged while shifting a little so I was facing her more directly. ¡°Having an intercom isn¡¯t a big deal, and lots of people have voice activated home assistants.¡±


    ¡°But your house is so big and so soundproofed that people can¡¯t hear each other screaming,¡± she pointed out before finally looking up at me. ¡°Wait, how did you hear me then? You¡­ umm, you said that people couldn¡¯t hear each other from the next room. Except you did hear me.¡±


    ¡°You left your door open,¡± I replied with a gesture that way. ¡°And I guess I left mine open too. I was really tired after I got¨C¡± I almost said ¡®home¡¯ but caught myself. ¡°After I came upstairs from my snack. Guess I forgot to close it.¡± That much was the truth, actually. I¡¯d been seriously famished when I finally dragged myself in after everything that had happened the night before. I¡¯d gotten food from the kitchen and gone back to my room before crashing hard into bed.


    Izzy was staring at me, her eyes boring into mine. ¡°So¡­ the only reason you heard me is because we both forgot to close our door?¡± she asked in a voice that still trembled just a little.


    ¡°I, uhh, I guess so.¡± Offering her a tiny smile, I shrugged. ¡°Not a bad coincidence this time, huh?¡± Sobering then, I added, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you were¡­ what the nightmare was. But are you okay? I mean, like I said before, if there¡¯s anything you might want to talk about, or¨C¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she interrupted, shaking her head before biting her lip as she stared somewhere around my stomach. ¡°You¡­¡± In a small voice, the girl hesitantly asked, ¡°You really don¡¯t want to tell your parents?¡± Her gaze peeked up at me with a quietly added, ¡°I hit you.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I¡¯ll get over it.¡± I shrugged, and both of us looked at each other for a few long seconds before I straightened up and offered a hand to her. ¡°I guess we¡¯re both awake now, huh?¡±


    Izzy still seemed a bit reluctant to touch me, but in the end she let me help her up to her feet. Then she took her hand back, folding her arms around her stomach with a slight flinch that I almost missed. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry I woke you up, Cassidy. And that I hit you.¡±


    Dryly, I assured her, ¡°I¡¯ll survive.¡± It wasn¡¯t even the worst injury I¡¯d taken in the past twenty-four hours, really. I had bruises all over, but they were thankfully all in places other than my face, thanks to my now-destroyed helmet.


    Clearing my throat to avoid thinking about all that, I gestured. ¡°Anyway, like I was saying, we¡¯re both awake and there¡¯s no point to me going back to sleep. And I¨C¡± Yawning abruptly in the middle of my own words, I flushed. ¡°I need coffee. You wanna come downstairs? It¡¯s not time for Ethan or Christiana to be up yet, but I¡¯m pretty sure we can hunt down our own breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Ethan or Christiana?¡± Izzy asked with a confused expression, even as she started to move to the door with me. ¡°Who are they?¡±


    So, I told her about Chef Claudio¡¯s assistants. Or interns, or whatever he called them. Students, sometimes. Either way, as we headed down for the kitchen and found our own food, I told her about how those two set things up in the morning and made sure breakfast was ready for everyone. I even told her about how the two of them had taught me how to make omelettes.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± I finished while we carried our food back upstairs (with my coffee, of course), ¡°they¡¯re both really¡­¡± I trailed off. Really nice? Did I know that for sure? Hell, for all I knew, Ethan and Christiana were both psychotic axe murderers. Maybe all the people my family employed were secretly evil monsters.


    Shaking that off, I started to go on before hesitating once more. That time, it was because Izzy was standing there on the landing just ahead of me, staring silently out through the large window at the dark sky. The tray of toast, fruit, and cereal in her hands shook just a little.


    My mouth opened to ask if she was okay (seriously, just what had my family put this girl through?), but she started speaking first. ¡°I wasn¡¯t dreaming.¡± Glancing back before turning to me, the girl amended, ¡°I mean, I was. But it was more like a memory.¡±


    Boy, did I both want and not want to know what kind of memory would make her scream like that. Almost not trusting my voice, I still managed, ¡°A memory of the reason you¡¯re here?¡±


    She hesitated before nodding once. ¡°I¨CI can¡¯t talk about it. But¡­ but there¡¯s bad guys out there, and now I¡¯m afraid they¡¯ll come here and hurt you and your parents because I¡¯m here. I¡­ I don¡¯t want that to happen. You guys have been really nice and¡­ and if the bad guys hurt you¡­¡±


    Wait, was she seriously afraid of bad guys hurting my parents? That had to mean it wasn¡¯t them that she was afraid of at all. If she knew anything about what Mom and Dad did, if they had been involved, then she¡¯d know better. But¨Cokay, maybe it had to do with Dad¡¯s work as Silversmith? Maybe he saved her from something bad? Just because he was also a villain didn¡¯t totally discount Silversmith from ever helping people, of course. Maybe Silversmith saved this girl from someone terrible like¡­ like Pencil. That would fit. Maybe Pencil did something awful to people she knew, like her family, and Dad saved her as Silversmith before taking her in as himself. Wait, this was right after that whole thing at the hospital. What if Izzy¡¯s parents were killed during that whole thing? Yeah. Shit, shit, yeah, that actually fit everything, didn¡¯t it?


    A voice in the back of my head told me I was missing something obvious, but I had no idea what it could be. The theory I had was the best I could think of. And hell, there was always the chance that my family was the reason she was upset and she just didn¡¯t know it.


    Realizing I¡¯d been silent, I quickly shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Izzy. You¡¯re safe here. Seriously, this place is probably one of the safest buildings in the city. If you weren¡¯t keyed into the security system, it¡¯d be going nuts right now. You know how Dad had you do all that stuff to add your biometrics into the system before he let you walk anywhere by yourself? That¡¯s because the system tracks all that. If someone tried to go anywhere in this house without either being admitted as a guest or added permanently like you were, there¡¯d be private security here in like sixty seconds and cops in three minutes. Plus, the whole house would lock down, the actual onsite security would be on the job, and¡­¡± Trailing off, I shrugged. ¡°Seriously, you¡¯re safe here.¡±


    Except for the fact that the thing keeping her the most safe, who my parents were and what they were capable of, was also the thing that put her in the most danger. But I couldn¡¯t exactly explain that. Part of me wanted to tell the girl to run and never stop running. Instead, I just told myself that Mom and Dad wouldn¡¯t hurt Izzy, even if they were actually villains. Which meant that I had to ignore the voice in the back of my head reminding me about Dad talking about killing me without knowing it was me.


    Izzy still looked a little uncertain even without all those details, but started walking again anyway. Together, the two of us went back to her room and sat on the floor. I handed her one of the small cartons of milk for her cereal before pouring some on my own, then started with, ¡°Hey, Izzy?¡±


    Looking up from her food that she had immediately started to dive into, the younger girl hesitated, clearly uncertain about what I was about to say. ¡°Umm, yeah?¡±


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to talk about why you¡¯re here, and that¡¯s okay. Really, I¡¯m not gonna push you or anything.¡± As much as I seriously wanted to, it felt like a bad idea. Especially if I was right about the whole ¡®her being traumatized by Pencil killing her parents¡¯ thing. That was not something I wanted to force her to think about. ¡°But I did want to say that you don¡¯t have to be afraid of my parents kicking you out for every little thing.¡±


    Quietly (and with a tiny bit of humor, I thought), she pointed out, ¡°Hitting you isn¡¯t a little thing.¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding?¡± I scoffed. ¡°Simon hits me all the time and they haven¡¯t kicked him out. I think you¡¯re fine.¡± Then I sobered a bit. ¡°No, seriously, it¡¯s okay. My parents brought you here, they keyed you into the security system. My¨C¡± Fuck, I was telling her to trust my supervillain parents to be good to her. But what else was I supposed to do? I couldn¡¯t tell her the truth about them. I barely knew this kid. I liked her, but I didn¡¯t really know her. She could do literally anything if I told her about that whole situation. And besides, even if I could trust her not to freak out, I definitely didn¡¯t want to thrust that whole responsibility onto her. The poor kid was traumatized to the point of screaming nightmares as it was. I couldn¡¯t do that to her.


    Finally, I settled on, ¡°My parents definitely won¡¯t throw you out just like that. And if they try, I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll tell them I¡¯ll keep holding my breath until I pass out or they bring you back. I figure it¡¯ll only take five or six times before they cave.¡±


    A giggle escaped the girl before she even seemed to know it was coming. Her hand covered her mouth, and she flushed visibly. ¡°I¨Cthanks, Cassidy,¡± she murmured quietly.


    We ate breakfast on the floor like that, before I picked up the trays. ¡°I¡¯ll take these down, then come back to take a shower before I¡¯ve gotta go to school. Are¡­ you gonna be okay here without me?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± she confirmed. ¡°I¡¯m okay, really. I¨C¡± Again, she hesitated. For a second, it looked like she was going to say something else, before settling on, ¡°Good luck on that project you told me about.¡±


    Giving her a thumbs up, I stood with the trays. ¡°No worries, Jae and Amber¡¯ll cover anything I don¡¯t have a handle on.¡±


    There was a sharp cough from behind me, and I turned to see her staring at me. ¡°Jae and Amber?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, my project partners,¡± I replied. ¡°You okay?¡±


    A quick nod came. ¡°Uh huh, I just¡­ swallowed wrong.¡± She coughed again, then took a drink of juice. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to shut the door tonight, I promise.¡±


    Glancing to the door, then back to her, I shook my head. ¡°You know, maybe you should leave it open. If you want to.¡±


    ¡°But if I do,¡± she pointed out, ¡°I¡¯ll wake you up again if I have another nightmare.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I replied simply.


    ¡°That¡¯s kind of what I¡¯m counting on.¡±

 Friends And Enemies 8-02

    We didn¡¯t end up presenting our project that day after all. Not that we weren¡¯t ready, but Mr. Dorn didn¡¯t end up picking us. Privately, after class was over, he told me that all of us looked so tired he didn¡¯t choose our group because he was afraid we¡¯d pass out in front of the class. Which was fair, considering I kept half-dozing off while watching other people present theirs.


    On the other hand, I had no idea why Jae and Amber seemed so tired. Amber in particular kept jolting a bit every now and then, as if she¡¯d actually drifted unconscious before catching herself. Maybe she¡¯d gone to a party and taken Jae with her? That was probably it. People liked Amber.


    Oh well, it worked out well enough for me. I wasn¡¯t planning on getting into anymore Touched business at least until my body stopped being quite so sore and my costume was fixed. I had to spend some time getting a new helmet and probably a new set of coveralls altogether. I didn¡¯t have much of a chance to go over the old suit with a fine-toothed comb the night before, but I had a feeling I wouldn¡¯t be able to salvage much of it after that near-direct lightning strike.


    Near-direct lightning strike. I¡¯d been almost perfectly hit by one of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s lightning bolts and walked away a few minutes later. Sure, it hurt like hell. I still hurt, even with the orange paint that had saved my life. But regardless of how sore I happened to be, I was alive. I survived. And somehow that fact kept hitting me more today, at random points during school, than it had last night. I¡¯d just be sitting in class or walking down the hall and it would suddenly hit me just how close I came to being killed. Once, that fact hit me hard enough in the middle of class that I had to run to the restroom and throw up, with the called back excuse of stomach problems. Which, of course, prompted a couple remarks about my finally reaching puberty. Ha fucking ha.


    Anyway, the day went on like that. I had lunch with Tomas and the two of us talked about music for awhile. It was kind of nice, actually. I didn¡¯t think about Touched stuff for a few minutes, like about how close I¡¯d come to dying, or the fact that Eits now knew I was a girl, or any of that. I just focused on talking about random British punk bands and how Tomas wanted to start something up here in Detroit. He wanted to know if I had any idea who he could try to recruit, which¡­ pffft, like I had a clue. The best I could do was point him in a general direction. But even that was still fun. It was relaxing, simple, and¡­ inconsequential. After everything that happened the night before with desperately fighting to get those vials, inconsequential was pretty nice.


    We were just dumping our trays and walking to the lockers as Tomas remarked, ¡°So, remember that supper thing we talked about? My parents would like you to come over tomorrow night.¡± He glanced toward me, adding, ¡°They know you¡¯ve got your whole family meal thing tonight and all that. So, you know, tomorrow. If you¡¯re not busy. And I really hope you¡¯re not, cuz Mum¡¯s planning something pretty special and if I tell her she has to push it back¡­¡± He whistled long and low, head shaking as if awe at the storm that would cause. ¡°So please with the RSVP.¡±


    I was about to respond, when another voice spoke up. ¡°Oh, hey, guys.¡± It was Paige Banners, a tall, blonde girl with perfect hair, a perfect smile (when she chose to use it), and according to every guy in our grade, perfect everything else. Her family was the second richest one in the city, and I don¡¯t think she ever forgave me for that. She was also the one who started joking about male cheerleaders when I¡¯d been on the team back in junior high and had been the first to make that puberty comment earlier when I ran to the restroom. Her smile now was like a viper, as she gave a tiny, insincere wave. ¡°So what¡¯s going on? Are you two starting up a boy band?¡± She gave a casual nod toward the guitar case held loosely in Tomas¡¯s hand before adopted a faux understanding tone. ¡°Or were you waiting for Evans to hit puberty first? If so, have I got great news for you.¡±


    ¡°Well, you know,¡± I replied shortly, ¡°for some of us, puberty is a long-awaited, beautiful and patient biological process that makes us all the individuals we¡¯re supposed to be. And for others, it¡¯s a plastic surgeon in the islands who never quite got over losing his job as a Barbie designer.¡±


    Oh boy, Paige didn¡¯t like that one little bit. That was for sure. A snarl twisted that perfect face, as she snapped back, ¡°You think your family¡¯s so perfect? Well guess what, you¨C¡±


    Tomas stepped in, moving between us with a pointedly cleared throat. ¡°Okay, I think that¡¯s about enough. Let¡¯s keep the claws in and go about our days. Nice seeing you, Paige, as always. We¡¯ll have to catch up later. Just make sure your broomstick and cauldron are nice and put away so nobody trips over them, yeah?¡± With that, he pulled me by the arm past the glaring girl.


    ¡°Well, that was fun,¡± I muttered as we reached his locker. ¡°Aren¡¯t you glad you came back now?¡±


    Snorting, he shook his head at me while opening the locker. ¡°You know the worst thing? She¡¯s not that bad to everyone else.¡± When my mouth opened, he held up a hand quickly. ¡°I know, I know, she¡¯s the wicked witch of the west and all. I get it. I¡¯m with you. I¡¯m just saying, call her an evil Barbie all you want, she¡¯s not an awful person with other people. I¡¯ve seen her around when you¡¯re not there. She¡¯s even stood up for some guys that were being pushed around, believe it or not. It¡¯s just¡­¡± He offered a helpless shrug. ¡°I dunno, something about you sets her off. And that¡¯s totally her problem, not yours. I just wish I knew why she¡¯s always hated you so much.¡±


    ¡°So do I,¡± I muttered under my breath, frowning as unwanted thoughts about my own family bounced through my head for a moment before I shoved them aside to look at him. ¡°Anyway, I was about to say, sure. I can come over tomorrow for dinner. Wouldn¡¯t want you to have to tell your mom she¡¯s doing all that work for nothing. Especially if she¡¯s near any sharp objects.¡±


    Laughing, Tomas shook his head. ¡°Okay, she¡¯s not that bad about it. Still, good. They¡¯ll be glad to see you, Cassidy.¡± He offered me that winning smile once more, the one that made my knees weak and drove my heart up into my throat. ¡°I think they¡¯ve missed you even more than I did.¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks,¡± I muttered, blushing a little while kicking his foot lightly. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯ll be there for dinner. I better get to class now though. You know, before that nice, sweet, oh-so-helpful Paige tells the teacher that I joined the Peace Corps and moved to Eswatini or something.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, you¡¯ve got another class with her.¡± Wincing, Tomas offered a weak, ¡°Good luck with that?¡±


    Murmuring a thanks, I headed off to class, stopping by my own locker just long enough to grab the right book. On the way, my phone buzzed. My actual phone, as I hadn¡¯t retrieved the one that Eits gave me. If I didn¡¯t trust the boy enough to have it in my home, I certainly wasn¡¯t going to bring it to class with me. No, it was still safe in its hiding spot for the time being. Eventually I would get my own new burner and return that one to him with a word of thanks. He had saved me from exposing my little secret to his boss, after all. That was¡­ worth something. Worth a lot.


    In any case, the text on my actual phone was from Dad. He was letting me know that our own family dinner would be one hour later than usual because there was some big important meeting that he absolutely couldn¡¯t get out of, but that we should definitely be ready for it.


    A big meeting that Dad couldn¡¯t get out of on family dinner night? Wow. It wasn¡¯t exactly unheard of to have a late dinner as long as we actually had it any time they weren¡¯t out of town (or ¡®out of town¡¯ as I¡¯d recently figured out), but still. It wasn¡¯t common. Something big must¡¯ve come up to keep Dad busy. I wondered if it was an actual business thing, something to do with his Silversmith hero work, or something to do with his evil psychotic monstrous villain work. Christ, my family was complicated, weren¡¯t they? And I really had to find out just how this whole ¡®running the city¡¯s villainy¡¯ thing of theirs worked. But how? I knew they had a place under the mall, and there was probably something in one of Dad¡¯s offices (both the ones at home and the ones I knew he kept in the city itself) that might point me in the right direction. And¡­ and I didn¡¯t know. The problem was that I was terrified of my parents finding out or even suspecting that I knew what kind of things they were up to. The only advantage I had right now was that they didn¡¯t know I knew anything. If they did¡­


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Paige voice cut through my musings as she stood impatiently nearby, gesturing until I realized I was standing in the doorway. ¡°I know you think your family owns this entire school. But could you maybe let other people use it still? If it¡¯s not too much to ask.¡±


    Sighing, I headed into class with a dismissive wave. ¡°Sure thing, Princess. Knock yourself out.


    ¡°With a bat, preferably.¡±


    ******


    After taking a little nap once school was out to recharge my batteries, I took an Uber ride to the mall and picked up a new burner phone. Yeah, I was probably being overly paranoid about what Eits could¡¯ve done to the other phone. Okay, I was definitely being paranoid. But still, I got a new phone and transferred the numbers into it.


    I also walked past that door that lead into my family¡¯s¡­ what? What was down there? I had no idea, aside from the fact that it was a place where they apparently did business. I had to get a look inside, but how the hell was I going to pull that off? Unless the pink paint offered me some kind of shapeshifting or shape copying powers¡­


    Wait a second¡­


    Ten minutes later, it was official. The pink paint did not offer me shapeshifting or copying powers. I had tried spraying it on myself in the bathroom and thinking really hard about looking like someone else, and nothing happened. I¡¯d also sadly sprayed someone else who came into the bathroom on their back, only for nothing to happen then either. Which, come to think, it was probably a good thing the paint wasn¡¯t some kind of dissolve your enemies stuff.


    In any case, minor wishful thinking brainstorm proven wrong, I still had no idea what the pink paint did. And I still had no way of getting into the mall basement. So I was basically just striking out all over the place.


    Thankfully, I didn¡¯t have problems with my next two errands, which amounted to buying a new helmet that was almost identical to my old one from a sporting goods store and a couple more coveralls. As before, I covered the purchases by also picking up other things like a whole bunch of painting supplies with the coveralls and some motorcycle maintenance stuff with the helmet. Along with other things to keep it looking as mundane as possible. Of course, in both places I was able to pay at the self checkout, so it didn¡¯t even really matter that much. But still, paranoia was the name of the game.


    That done, I had something approaching a normal costume again. So, after finding a private place to pull the new costume and helmet on, I threw myself into the air, used red paint to hit the top of the building, and lost myself in a quick run across the city. I doubled around a few times and kept an eye out for anyone watching before slipping my way through a couple alleys to reach the store. And only part of that was because of how much I enjoyed using my paint to get around.


    Nearing Wren¡¯s place, I went into that little hiding spot in the alley to retrieve the phone that Eits had given me. There were a few missed messages on it, which I read through. There were a couple from Wren, mostly checking to make sure I was okay after last night, and something about needing to talk to me but that it wasn¡¯t an emergency. There were also a couple from Eits of about the same variety, along with reassurance that he wasn¡¯t going to tell anyone about my grandmother¡¯s recipe. Which was a pretty good way of hiding what he really meant, as far as that kind of thing went.


    First, I sent a message back to him, letting the boy know that I would tell my grandmother she didn¡¯t have to worry. My thumbs hovered over the keypad indecisively for a second before I added, ¡®is the kid ok?¡¯


    I was just about to let Wren know I was on my way in, when the message from Eits came back. ¡®All meds good. Boss says owes u.¡¯


    Shaking my head, I sent back a quick message that he¡¯d already paid, then sent a message to Wren saying I was basically right at her doorstep.


    As soon as I walked in and down the stairs, Wren jumped up from the couch where she had been watching cartoons. ¡°Paintball! Hi, I¡­ oh, hey, you got a new costume.¡±


    Giving her a thumbs up, I replied, ¡°Sure, can¡¯t go around looking all ripped to pieces, can I? What would people think about the Paintball brand?¡±


    Snickering a little, the girl agreed, ¡°Yeah, I guess you did look kind of scruffy last night. But a good scruffy. A triumphant scruffy.¡±


    ¡°Triumphant scruffy, huh?¡± I echoed with a smile she couldn¡¯t see. ¡°I¡¯ll take it. But hey, you said you wanted me to come over? And where¡¯s Fred?¡±


    ¡°He had some things to do,¡± she replied easily before adding, ¡°He wants me to do school stuff again, so he¡¯s picking up some books. He said he was a bad student and he¡¯d be a worse teacher, but that he can at least follow the instructions in the book. Except he said it with more curse words and stuff.¡±


    Shaking that off, she pressed on more excitedly, ¡°But yeah, I wanted you to come over because I need your shoe size. And all your other sizes too, while we¡¯re at it. You know, because I¡¯m gonna be making things for you.¡± Her grin was wide and contagious. ¡°Right now I had ideas about your skates, so that¡¯s what I¡¯m gonna focus on. If that¡¯s okay?¡± At the last bit, her smile faltered, as if afraid that I would object.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I replied, ¡°you do what sounds best to you. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be great.¡±


    Her smile returned in full force, and she grabbed my arm to pull me. ¡°C¡¯mon, I sorta need to take plaster casts of your feet. Having the sizes is all well and good, but I need casts if they¡¯re going to fit perfectly.¡±


    So, with a silent thanks that I wasn¡¯t wearing any toenail polish to muddy the waters, I let the kid take casts of my feet with my socks on and socks off. It felt weird, but hey, if I was going to get new Tech-Touched skating toys out of it, I wasn¡¯t going to object.


    Eventually, that was all done and I excused myself. Now that I had a functioning costume again, it was time to pay a visit to Ten Towers to see about picking up that detainment application thing before the judge in Ashton¡¯s case got too annoyed with me. I just hoped Caishen had meant it when she said someone would help me figure out how to fill it out, because the last thing I wanted to do was screw something like that up.


    Anyway, I made it to Towers Plaza. Originally, it was called Three Towers Plaza, back when the founding group was known as Three Towers. Three major international companies who had decided back when Detroit first began to get a name for itself as a major Touched manufacturing city that they would work together and invest into a group to protect their assets from Fell-Touched. Tocher Pharmaceuticals, Saito Automotive, and Autry Media Technologies. They were the founding trio, the companies who constructed the original plaza, consisting of three massive office buildings surrounding a large central¡­ well, plaza. One building housing each company.


    But more companies had signed into their deal over the years. Patterson Insurance, the Konners And Bell law firm, Rheese Technologies, Gallop Fuel, Fetchings Grocery, En Route Delivery Services, and Aether Airlines.


    Ten companies. They didn¡¯t build more office buildings for each additional company, of course. The other companies just took up residence in various parts of the established buildings as their local headquarters, buying out entire floors from the original founders. And the name went from being called Three Towers Plaza, to Four Towers Plaza, then Six Towers, and finally they gave up and just went with Towers Plaza.


    That¡¯s where I was, standing on the street staring up the three giant office towers set up at the three sides of this place. The plaza itself was enormous all on its own, with a dozen different well-maintained walkways leading in various directions, a tall black memorial in the center with the names of all fallen Star-Touched from the past twenty years, a restaurant for employees and guests, a small square where street performances were put on, and more.


    Taking a breath, I shoved aside my nervousness and stepped off the sidewalk, officially entering Ten Towers territory.


    I just hoped this wouldn¡¯t take too long, because it was family dinner night. And while I may have been okay with driving Cu¨¦lebre into a frothing mad rage, I did not want to face my mother if I was late to that.

 Friends And Enemies 8-03

    Almost the same moment that I set foot on the Ten Towers property, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention ahead and to the right. A man was approaching me with a purposeful, though not intimidating, stride. He looked like someone threw the idea of casual and formal-wear into the blender and put on what came out. Basically, that amounted to wearing white suit pants and a matching open suit jacket over a Hawaiian shirt (black with red and pink flowers), with comfortable tennis shoes and a pair of Aviator sunglasses tinted dark pink.


    Stopping as he approached, I looked from the man¡¯s loud shirt up to his matching shaded sunglasses, cocking my head a bit. ¡°So you would be the official team fashion consultant then?¡±


    He laughed, extending a hand. ¡°Sadly, our organization doesn¡¯t seem to share my taste. More¡¯s the pity.¡± As I accepted his hand, he shook it while adding, ¡°Richard Mornes. As I understand, you call yourself Paintball, yes?¡± He released my hand after a moment. ¡°Here for the papers.¡±


    I nodded quickly. ¡°Uh, yeah, Caishen said I could get some of those detention application things and maybe some advice about how to fill them out properly? I¡¯m, um, still really new to all this.¡±


    With an easy smile, Richard turned to gesture back the way he¡¯d come. ¡°Of course. She¡¯s asked me to give you all the help you need. I¡¯m also supposed to tell you that we¡¯re all more glad than we can say that the Blackjack situation has been resolved relatively peacefully without undue damage to property or person. Which is corporate-speak for ¡®thanks for saving the day before our profits were heavily affected.¡¯ We probably should¡¯ve gotten you a cake or something.¡±


    Shrugging, I headed the way he had indicated, toward the eastern tower. ¡°I definitely would¡¯ve eaten cake. But I think I can live without, as long as this whole Ashton thing doesn¡¯t blow up.¡±


    Walking alongside me, the man shook his head. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a problem. We know how this whole thing works, and the judges in this city are usually fairly lenient on the whole ¡®locking up bad guys before they can do more bad things¡¯ situation. In your case, keeping that guy off the streets did a hell of a lot more good than harm, given how many Fell-Gangs were looking for him. Long as you didn¡¯t rough him up too bad or starve him or anything, I don¡¯t see a problem.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what Caishen said,¡± I murmured. By that point, we were passing the small open-air market area. They were selling tee-shirts, hats, and other Ten Towers-branded merchandise, and I saw a few probable tourists look up as we approached. Before I could say anything, a couple of them ran right over in a rush, asking to take pictures and whether I was about to sign up with the team. Taken aback, all I could do for that moment was stand and gape while dozens of questions were hurled rapidfire at me, along with a few shirts that were thrust up with requests for autographs. Autographs? For what? I hadn¡¯t even been doing this whole Star-Touched thing for an entire month yet, so how did these people even know about me?


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Taken aback as I was, it took me a second to collect myself. Finally, just as Richard looked like he was going to say something on my behalf, I managed to blurt, ¡°Whoa, hey, sorry. There you guys are. Guess I just went blind for a second cuz of my friend¡¯s shirt over there.¡± With a thumb, I gestured toward Richard and his loud apparel, who playfully scoffed at that while the group (several more had approached to join the first few in that time) snickered.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± I went on before my brain could finish telling me how nervous I was supposed to be, ¡°sorry to disappoint, but Ten Towers has definitely not lowered their incredible standards enough for me to weasel my way in. Not yet, anyway. But maybe while I¡¯m here, I can pick up some juicy secrets so they¡¯ll make an exception and let me pal around with them at some point.¡±


    Hoping that was diplomatic enough and didn¡¯t make it look like I was dissing the team by not joining up with them, I added, ¡°But hey, you guys still want autographs from Independent Kid?¡± As one person nodded and started to eagerly extend up a shirt with a pen, I waved it off. ¡°Nah dude, let¡¯s see just the shirt.¡± He shrugged, keeping the pen as I took the shirt.


    Avoiding the Ten Towers logo (a ten-pointed star with the city skyline inside), I found an empty part of the shirt and pressed my hand against it. All it took was a moment of focus. Then I held the thing up for him. I¡¯d put a black oval over a blank part of the shirt, written ¡®Paintball¡¯ in white cursive letters like a signature, then added spots of every other color (orange, blue, green, purple, yellow, and pink) in a rainbow-like spray from one side to the other.


    Seeing what I¡¯d done, the man suddenly grinned, holding the shirt up for everyone to see. Which just made them start thrusting out more things for me to ¡®sign¡¯. I took everything they handed over, adding that little logo wherever I could fit it while the crowd just seemed to grow. It took about ten minutes of just standing there talking to people and adding my little Paintball image thing to whatever they wanted (taking occasional breaks to just chat to avoid running out of paint). I tried to answer as many questions as I could without sounding totally dismissive but also without giving away secrets (several people flat out asked how old I was or even what my real name was, which seemed weird, but I was pretty sure they weren¡¯t actually serious).


    Finally, Richard stepped in and let them know that we had an important meeting soon and that he didn¡¯t want to keep me for any longer than they had to. I ¡®signed¡¯ the last few things that people were holding out, then followed the man while giving one last wave to the group.


    While walking away with my escort toward the building once more, I quietly remarked under my breath, ¡°Boy, am I gonna feel pretty stupid if that paint does eventually disappear after all.¡±


    Richard turned my way, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t actually know if it fades on its own?¡±


    ¡°It disappears once I activate it,¡± I replied thoughtfully. ¡°But I¡¯ve never seen it disappear otherwise. I mean, I painted my costume all white to have a base to work from and that didn¡¯t really disappear. But maybe if it¡¯s far enough away from me for too long? Or¡­ I dunno. Guess we¡¯ll find out if a bunch of people start complaining about disappearing autographs, huh?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, I guess we will,¡± he agreed, casting a thoughtful glance back that way.


    ¡°So, just out of curiosity,¡± I put in casually while he was still looking that way, ¡°was that whole thing back there staged to make me feel good? You know, a way to boost me up while I¡¯m here.¡±


    He laughed lightly, head shaking. ¡°Not a bad idea if we wanted to recruit someone, I¡¯ve gotta admit. But no, hand to the heavens, that wasn¡¯t a set-up or anything. Guess there¡¯s some videos floating around out there from last night of you and Cu¨¦lebre. Couple people edited in footage of your first run through the city with him awhile back, threw in music, and they went viral. You should check it out next chance you get, there¡¯s one that¡¯s pretty damn funny with Yakety Sax. Totally worth it, especially when you literally yoink that thing out of his hand.¡±


    ¡°Videos of¨C¡± Cutting myself off, I swallowed. ¡°Oh. I um, he¡¯s not gonna be happy about that.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you caught onto that pretty quick,¡± Richard congratulated me with a nod. ¡°Yeah, well, I was gonna tell you to be careful out there if you didn¡¯t get that already. But seriously, you know that whack-a-mole game? Right now, you are the biggest mole sticking your head out and Cu¨¦lebre has the hammer. Just watch it, okay? If he wants to make his name back, he¡¯ll come after you.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the advice,¡± I murmured, trying not to think about having to deal with a pissed off Cu¨¦lebre hunting me down. As if I didn¡¯t already have enough problems with my family thing.


    We made it into the office building, and Richard led me straight past the receptionist/security desk, through the metal detectors (they went off when we went through, but he just waved off the guard there), and to one of the elevators. There, we rode all the way up to the third floor from the top. Apparently the second-from-the-top floor of each building was reserved for Touched team member stuff, and the top floor was where the CEO¡¯s and such stayed and worked when they were around.


    Leading me through a quiet, well-decorated hallway while greeting a few people, my escort eventually stopped in front of a door that read ¡®Richard Mornes, Vice President ¨C Outreach.¡¯ Beneath that was the Ten Towers logo with the ten-pointed star surrounding the Detroit skyline. From what I knew, Ten Towers chapters in other places used the skyline of that particular city in their logo.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Outreach?¡± I asked while squinting at the name on the door, a bit curious about that title.


    ¡°Yup,¡± he confirmed. ¡°It means that some of my jobs are to coordinate things like our work with local law enforcement, sending Touched to schools to give talks, looking into the Minority program to see who we might want to recruit, keeping the team popular, that kind of thing.¡±


    ¡°And to help a local doofus Touched write up a report to a judge about why she shouldn¡¯t¨C¡± Shit, I said she. Abort ¡®she shouldn¡¯t be arrested¡¯, change it, change it! The judge can be a she! ¡°¨Chave him arrested?¡± The correction came so quickly that I didn¡¯t even have to cough to cover it.


    ¡°Pretty much.¡± With that, Richard opened the door, gesturing for me to go on in. It actually led to his secretary¡¯s office, with his actual office beyond that. There was no one at the outer desk, and as we passed it, he informed me that she was on vacation.


    In any case, we went into his (quite large) office, and the man picked up a stack of papers. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go over this. But first, I¡¯ve really gotta ask¡­ were you serious out there when you said your paint lasts forever as long as you don¡¯t¡­ whatever, trigger the powers on it?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah.¡± Nodding easily, I replied, ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve experimented and it can be scrubbed off with paint remover and that sort of thing. Or soap, water, and a lot of elbow grease, really.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s basically instant paint that could disappear instantly if you wanted it to, or be scrubbed off and removed without you?¡± Richard asked. When I nodded, he looked at the stack of papers in his hand, muttering, ¡°Excuse me for this.¡± Then he used the papers to swat my helmet.


    ¡°Ow,¡± I blurted reflexively. ¡°I mean, not really ow, because those are just paper and this is a pretty good helmet right here. But still, it¡¯s the thought that counts. What was that for?¡±


    ¡°What the hell are you doing the superhero thing for, man?¡± Richard demanded, though it was clear from his tone that he was only being half-serious. ¡°Do you have any idea what people would pay you to put up billboards for them? Or just to paint houses. You could start an entire paint empire. Do you know what it costs to paint a house? The cost of painting the outside of the average two-story house is seven to eight thousand dollars. About three to four thousand for a one-story house. Now work in the fact that you don¡¯t have to pay employees or buy actual paint, let alone equipment. Factor in how many houses you could paint in a day like that and you could be a millionaire before you¡¯re eighteen. Why in the world are you slumming it as a superhero?¡±


    Blinking a couple times at that, I offered him a shrug and a probably lame, ¡°I¡­ have my reasons. But thanks, I¡¯ll keep the paint thing in mind if I need a summer job or something.¡±


    With that, he sat me down at his desk and talked me through filling out the forms. He let me know which boxes to check, how to phrase things, what sort of words I shouldn¡¯t use, and more. It was incredibly helpful, and I thanked him several times throughout. As we were leaving his office about twenty minutes later (I had the filled-out form as well as a stack of extras for later under my arm), I made sure to thank him again. ¡°Seriously, I know you guys are doing this because of the whole ¡®maybe recruit him later if we decide we want to¡¯ thing, but thanks.¡±


    I was pretty sure Richard said something else to that as I opened the outer office door, but I was too distracted by the little kid riding the giant bug past the doorway. Yeah, seriously.


    It wasn¡¯t just any little kid, of course. I knew that instantly. The girl looked like she was about four or five years old, and she was one of the obvious Touched, with dark red skin, white hair, and insect-like wings. Her eyes were bright blue and compound, like a fly. They were also about twice as large as regular eyes, taking up more of her face.


    Meanwhile, the bug she was riding on was some kind of bright, almost neon green hardshell beetle. Except I didn¡¯t know about many beetles that were the size of a small pony. Yeah, the hallway was big enough to drive a small car through, but the giant beetle was still pretty noticeable. The sight of them stopped me in my tracks.


    I¡¯d seen the girl in the news, of course. They called her Lightning Bug. Caishen was her mother, and she did her best to keep her daughter from being a spectacle, but the fact that a little girl had become Touched (and a very obvious Touched at that) at such a young age, made that pretty hard. I wasn¡¯t sure how long she¡¯d been Touched, but it was over a year ago that she¡¯d been in the news. So¡­ really young. From what parts of the interview with her mother that I remembered, Lightning Bug (I couldn¡¯t remember her real name, if they¡¯d even given one) basically shot electricity from her fingers that healed people she liked, hurt people she didn¡¯t like, and made bugs grow into giant size forms like the one she was now riding.


    As soon as she saw me, the girl made a cute, panicked little squeaking sound, falling sideways off the bug before hiding behind it. She peeked a bit, just the tips of her large compound eyes appearing over the bug¡¯s shell.


    ¡°Oh, hey there, LB,¡± Richard casually remarked while standing just behind me. ¡°It¡¯s okay, this is Paintball.¡±


    A tiny, nervous voice hesitantly spoke from behind the safety of the beetle. ¡°Hi, Miss Ball. Are¡­ you helping Uncle Rick?¡±


    With a chuckle, Richard shook his head. ¡°Actually, he¡¯s here to get some help with his own situation. But hopefully he¡¯ll be willing to help us later, right?¡±


    I nodded, watching the kid¡¯s eyes take me in. ¡°Sure, I don¡¯t see why not.¡± I did see several conflicts of interest that might pop up, but I was hardly going to get into it right then. I¡¯d take it as it came.


    ¡°Sorry, Mr. Ball,¡± the tiny voice came again. There was a pause before she slowly stood up and moved out from behind the beetle. She shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable, as if she was afraid I was going to tease her for looking the way she did.


    Instead, I looked over to the beetle. ¡°That¡¯s a really pretty bug. I like the green. What¡¯s his name?¡±


    The answer came hesitantly. ¡°Snugglebug.¡±


    ¡°Well, hey there, Snugglebug.¡± Smiling, though it wouldn¡¯t show behind the mask and helmet, I asked, ¡°Do you mind if I give him a little color?¡± Again, there was a little pause before she nodded with obvious hesitation and nervousness, moving to put both hands on the beetle protectively.


    With exaggerated care and gentleness, I put my hand on the bug, moving it around a bit to leave several purple, orange, and white stars around the sides of the shell. Then I made a large yellow crescent moon before using my red, blue, white, and black paint to make a pretty good depiction of Lightning Bug herself perched on the moon, fishing out in the stars.


    Seeing it, the girl¡¯s eyes lit up, and she blurted, ¡°Snuggle, you¡¯re pretty!¡± Looking over to me, she solemnly added, ¡°Thank you, Mr. Ball. Can Simminin be pretty too?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± I agreed. ¡°But who¨C¡± While speaking, I turned a little, only to come face-to-face with another giant bug that made me yelp and almost fall over.


    It was a praying mantis that was even bigger than Snugglebug. Seriously, this thing was freaking gigantic. It was even taller than I was, standing there with its enormous bladed arms held up defensively in front of itself.


    ¡°Her name¡¯s supposed to be Cinnamon,¡± Richard explained. ¡°As in Cinnamon Toast Crunch. That¡¯s her full name. Pretty sure the kid was hungry when she named her.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s her name,¡± Lightning Bug herself insisted. ¡°Simminin. And¡­ and¡­¡± She could barely make herself look at me, half-hiding behind both her beetle and one of the outstretched claws of the praying mantis. ¡°And she wants tah be pretty.¡±


    Forcing back my own nervousness, I looked up at the gigantic insect. ¡°Well then, Miss Simminin, let¡¯s see what we can do about making you the prettiest mantis in the world.¡±


    ******


    Eventually, it was time to head home. I¡¯d made the bugs pretty enough for the kid, making it clear that the images would wash off but promising that I¡¯d make more another time.


    Now, it was getting fairly close to time for dinner, and I definitely couldn¡¯t miss that. Not if I wanted to live.


    So, I took another trip around the city to stretch my legs before changing clothes and summoning another Uber to take me home. By the time I got there, I had just enough time to take a nice long shower and clean up a bit before changing into clean clothes. When I got out, still brushing out the long side of my hair, Izzy was waiting in the hall. She looked uncertain. ¡°What¡¯s¡­ um¡­ one of your¡­ um, maids said something about dinner being late or something?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, my dad had some kind of long meeting, so we¡¯re having family dinner late. Right about now, actually.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry.¡± She started to step back. ¡°I¡¯ll stay out of the way.¡±


    ¡°You better not,¡± I retorted. ¡°Mom gets a bit tyrannical about family dinner. If she thinks you¡¯re not there, she might go on the warpath.¡± I was kidding. Mostly. Sort of.


    Izzy¡¯s head shook. ¡°But you said it¡¯s a family dinner.¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Family and guests. And right now, you¡¯re living two doors down from me. That kind of makes you closer than my own brother. So you get to come.¡±


    Before she could object, I started to take her hand. Just as I touched her, however, she jerked the hand back with a gasp. Seriously, it was like I¡¯d burned her. Blushing deeply as she realized what she had done, the girl hung her head a bit before nodding. ¡°Sorry, I¡­ yeah, I¡¯ll come.¡± She said it quietly, not looking at me as she started down the hall. My eyes followed her and I frowned a little to myself. Finding out what my family did to this girl and her family was suddenly a really big priority. Even if I was terrified of what the answer might end up being. For the moment, however, I followed after her. Time for another family dinner.


    But hey, at least this time I knew there were two people at the table who weren¡¯t evil.

 Friends And Enemies 8-04

    So, we had our family dinner with Izzy. I wanted to say that it was full of tension, fear, and thinly veiled ominous words. But the truth was worse. Because there weren¡¯t any of those things. It was fun. It was a great meal and both of my parents were clearly out to impress Izzy. Dad joked a lot and Mom told some stories about when she was a little girl and had to sit around a boring hotel room while her father was on business.


    Mom had other stories too, but they were ones that she didn¡¯t share as much anymore. Specifically, they were stories about all the beauty pageants she had to go to as a kid and teenager. She used to tell me those stories all the time, but stopped when it became clear I was¡­ developing differently. I was too small and too¡­ yeah. The only way I would ever be a model is if I stayed in the children¡¯s category.


    So, Mom had stopped telling those stories when that kind of thing started bothering me. She didn¡¯t make some announcement about it or anything, they just gradually stopped. I knew why, but we never really talked about it. Honestly, I probably wouldn¡¯t mind hearing more of those stories now that I was a little older and not quite as bothered by my development.


    Except that my mother was evil and dammit, I kept forgetting that. Seriously, I would be sitting there listening to my parents talk and it would entirely slip my mind that they were villainous masterminds who actively controlled the criminal underworld in the entire city. They were just my mom and dad, for God¡¯s sake. It was so easy to let myself stop thinking about the truth for short lapses.


    But that was kind of the point, wasn¡¯t it? My parents were incredibly good at fooling everyone, especially me. Actually, no, not especially me. Especially all the people they interacted with who weren¡¯t me. Of course I didn¡¯t suspect that my own father was both a supervillain and the leader of one of the preeminent superhero teams at the same time. Who would actually suspect that of their own father? But the fact that they managed to keep all this secret from so many much smarter and much stronger people for so long showed just how good at this they were.


    So yeah, they were clearly laying on the charm for dinner. Simon even brought up a sci-fi movie coming out soon that he and Izzy both wanted to see. The two of them talked about that for a few minutes, equally engaged with each other despite the age difference.


    Well, Simon did most of the talking. Though she was coming out of her shell a little bit, Izzy still didn¡¯t say much. I could tell she was interested in what he was saying, and she did speak up a couple times, but mostly she just listened and nodded.


    Eventually, dinner was over, along with dessert. Dad leaned back in his seat and checked his watch. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got a Skype interview in a few minutes with that Lincoln Chambers guy from the LA Times about Elon¡¯s latest stunt, but you kids should do something fun. What about that movie you were talking about?¡±


    Izzy hesitated before quietly speaking up. ¡°It doesn¡¯t come out for another week.¡±


    Dad simply shrugged, taking his cell phone out. ¡°Not for most people. Let me make a call real quick.¡±


    So, he was on the phone for a minute while Izzy looked to me a bit incredulously. I shrugged back at her before Dad clicked off the phone. ¡°Right, it¡¯s all set. They¡¯re bringing over one of the drives with the movie on it and you can all watch it in the theater.¡±


    Izzy stared at him. ¡°Theater? What theater?¡±


    With a grin, Simon teased, ¡°Haven¡¯t explored that much around here yet, have you?¡±


    Quickly, I spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s not a full theater, we just call it that. There¡¯s just a few rows of seats and a screen that¡¯s like half the size of what you might find in a real theater.¡±


    From the way Izzy stared at me, I was pretty sure that hadn¡¯t really made her find the whole thing any less ridiculous. Which was fair.


    Dad was talking again. ¡°It¡¯s gonna take them an hour or so to bring the drive over for the projector. Why don¡¯t you three run out and pick up some treats in the meantime? Make a big night of it, that¡¯ll do you all some good.¡±


    If only he knew just what I¡¯d been up to lately and how busy my recent nights had been. Then he¡¯d really think I needed a break. Though how literal that was, I couldn¡¯t be sure.


    That particular fun thought made me blanch inwardly,  though I fought like hell to keep the reaction off my face. I might have tried to find a way to decline, except for two things. One, it definitely would¡¯ve raised suspicions that I didn¡¯t want raised. And two, if I didn¡¯t do this, it would leave Izzy alone with Simon. Which¡­ yeah, while I really didn¡¯t expect him to hurt her or anything, leaving them alone like that felt like a bad idea for reasons I couldn¡¯t really explain even to myself. It felt wrong and I didn¡¯t want to do it.


    Plus, Izzy actually looked a little bit excited about something and like hell was I going to crush that by naysaying things. No, thank you.


    So, the three of us went to the garage. Izzy stood there for a moment, mouth falling open as she stared wide-eyed at all the vehicles. A sound of disbelief and amazement escaped the younger girl.


    Laying a hand on her shoulder, I murmured, ¡°Dad likes to collect cars.¡± And up until very recently, I loved spending time in here going over every single one of them with a fine-tooth comb. God, I¡¯d loved these cars and the idea of soon driving them. Now being in here was a reminder of just where our money came from and how much blood was on it. And I didn¡¯t even know the full truth about how much blood that happened to be, just that it was a lot.


    Of course, Simon went straight to the 71 Cuda. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ll take Royal Thunder. That¡¯s Cassidy¡®s favorite.¡±


    Glancing to me, Izzy questioned, ¡°Royal Thunder?¡±


    Biting my lip, I explained, ¡°The first car Dad had when he was younger was a 67 Barracuda. He said it was practically junk when he got it. He had to rebuild almost the whole thing. And the muffler didn¡¯t work perfectly, so he nicknamed it Thunder. When he got this one, it was a lot more expensive and all that, so it became Royal Thunder.¡±


    The words felt hollow in my throat, while they had always previously made me feel really close to my father. The stories he would tell me about putting that old car back together and all his frustration and joys in finally making it work meant so much to me. That was why Royal was my favorite. It was a connection to my father. And now¡­ sigh.


    Pushing that back, I got into the car. Izzy and I both slipped into the back, leaving Simon in the front. As he pulled the car out of the garage and headed down the long driveway, Simon spoke over his shoulder. ¡°How much longer you got left until you get through Drivers Ed anyway?¡±


    ¡°A month,¡± I murmured, though I couldn¡¯t keep a smile entirely off of my face. I had been looking forward to driving for basically my entire life. Even with everything that I had found out, not to mention just how crazy and fun my paint method of travel already was, the idea of finally driving still made me grin. It was one part of my old self that I didn¡¯t have to fake enthusiasm for, even if it was a bit subdued. I was pretty sure Simon just took that as me trying to hide it and play cool.


    In any case, we drove out to the mall and picked up a bunch of treats. The whole time we were walking around, I noticed Izzy constantly looking around. She tried to be subtle about it, but she was definitely watching for anything bad. It was almost like she expected to get jumped. Which, of course, made me even more curious about what her deal was. She definitely wasn¡¯t being held hostage, at least as far as she knew. She wasn¡¯t upset about being with my family. But they still could have done something to her without her knowing it was them. Or maybe she was collateral damage from one of their things and they felt guilty? That could be it.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Leaving the mall with our arms full of packages, we still haven¡¯t encountered anything like what Izzy could have been afraid of. However, I had noticed a couple of Simon¡¯s friends standing around basically anywhere we went. They were clearly keeping an eye on us. Though exactly why, I wasn¡¯t sure. But it couldn¡¯t have been a coincidence. I saw too many of them too often for that. And I was sure there were others watching us that I didn¡¯t actually recognize.


    Izzy was still staring down at the bags in her arms with a look of disbelief. ¡°Do we really need all this for one movie?¡±


    With an easy smile, Simon asked, ¡°What makes you think we¡¯ll stop with one movie? We¡¯ve got a whole theater over there. I¡¯m sure we can find something else you want to watch. Besides, this is just restocking the place. Don¡¯t have to eat all of it in one night, even if it¡¯d be fun to try.¡± He added a wink that made Izzy blush.


    My mouth had just opened to retort when I was interrupted by a familiar voice. ¡°Cassidy?¡± It was Amber. She was with Jae and that Damarko guy I had met the other day. The three of them were just going into the same mall we had been coming out of. As I looked that way, I heard Izzy give a noise of surprise. Shit, as jumpy as she was, I needed to introduce these guys before she started thinking they were a problem.


    Quickly, I raised one of my free hands to just gesture back-and-forth between them. ¡°Hey, guys. Izzy, this is Amber and Jae. They go to school with me. And this is their friend Damarko. He doesn¡¯t go to our school, but Amber uses him as a chauffeur.¡±


    ¡°Pfffffft,¡± the black-haired girl retorted, ¡°don¡¯t you start too.¡±


    Snorting, I nodded back to our young companion. ¡°This is Izzy. She¡¯s staying with us.¡± I almost said for a little while, but a voice in the back of my head told me that would sound too much like I wanted her to leave soon or something. I didn¡¯t want to say anything that might make her feel like an imposition or whatever.


    Jae was the first to extend a hand to the younger girl, her voice quiet. ¡°Good to¡­ meet you.¡±


    Soon the four of them had exchanged greetings and all that. Which was when I had a great idea. ¡°Hey, why don¡¯t you guys come to our place if you¡¯re not doing anything? We¡¯re gonna watch that new Outlanders movie.¡±


    Damarko gave a double take. ¡°Outlanders of Reach Three? That doesn¡¯t even come out in theaters until next week, how are you supposed to¡ª¡±


    Amber interrupted. ¡°Told you, she¡¯s filthy stinking rich. You don¡¯t have to worry about silly things like actual release dates when your parents probably own a big chunk of the studio that made the movie.¡±


    Blushing a little, I waved my full arms. ¡°You guys wanna come, or what? We¡¯ve got enough snacks for basically the whole school.¡±


    ¡°Not that the whole school is invited,¡± Simon put in. ¡°But I suppose it wouldn¡¯t be too bad to have a few more. You¡¯ll have to bring your own car though. Royal Thunder doesn¡¯t have that many seats.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long for the trio to agree, and they made plans to follow us back home in Damarko¡¯s car. Only once we were walking away did I blink and cringe with a look toward Izzy. ¡°Shit. Sorry, are you okay with this? I know they¡¯re basically strangers, but¡ª¡±


    Her head bobbed quickly, as the girl blushed for some reason. ¡°Uh huh. It¡¯s okay. They¡¯re¡­ they seem cool.¡±


    So, we led the other three back to the house and let them through the gate so Damarko could park right up near the front door. As we all went inside, the others looked around with wide eyes. Amber gave a low whistle of amazement. ¡°So, where¡¯s the grandfather clock that we go through to get to the Batcave?¡±


    Laughing maybe a little more than I really should have in an act of overcompensation, I shook my head. ¡°Sorry, no batcaves here. Unless you count Simon¡¯s closet. Who knows what kind of animals are living in there. It¡¯s probably a whole ecosystem.¡±


    Kicking the back of my leg, Simon retorted, ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I have names for everything living in my closet, thank you very much. Now come on, let¡¯s see if they dropped off the drive with the movie yet. Theater¡¯s at the other end of the house.¡±


    Damarko asked, ¡°So, how do we get there? Is there like a tram that runs back and forth, or did your parents splurge and put in literal teleporters?¡±


    Rolling my eyes, I turned to walk. ¡°Come on, the house isn¡¯t that huge. We go to school every day in a bigger place.¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± Amber put in, ¡°as far as defenses against having too big of a house go, ¡®the school for two thousand students is bigger¡¯ isn¡¯t really much of one.¡±


    I pointedly pretended I didn¡¯t hear that, and we all went to the theater room. Sure enough, the movie had already been set up, and the man who had delivered it was waiting there for us to sign his non-disclosure forms saying that we wouldn¡¯t talk about the movie in public until after it officially released. Those all signed, we divvied up the snacks before settling in. I sat next to Izzy and Jae ended up on the other side. To my relief, they and the others seemed to be getting along. I even saw Izzy whisper something to Jae now and then. She didn¡¯t seem put off or surprised by the girl being albino, which clearly put her above certain other people in our actual grade.


    We watched the movie. It was actually pretty good, though Simon, Damarko, and Izzy got more out of it. The three of them knew all these extra names and people from the expanded books and comics and stuff that I didn¡¯t know the slightest thing about. But whatever, they were happy.


    After that, we watched two more movies, until it was way too late to be up on a school night. But I don¡¯t think any of us cared. It was just fun sitting there talking and enjoying the films. It was¡­ nice. Seriously, I stopped thinking about Touched stuff basically all night long. I was just there with my friends¡­ and brother. A brother who had¡­


    Yeah. Maybe I didn¡¯t forget about all of that entirely. But pretty much. All in all, it was a fun evening, and Izzy even spent a few minutes with the other three out in front of the house talking a little bit while Simon and I cleaned things up and sealed the movie up to be sent back.


    Once we saw the others off, Izzy and I headed back upstairs to our rooms. On the way, I glanced to the younger girl. ¡°So, that was pretty good, huh?¡±


    The smile that she turned toward me with was pure radiance, but it faded quickly, as if she was starting to remember why she wasn¡¯t supposed to be happy or something. ¡°I¡­ thanks, Cassidy. You¡¯re right, it was fun.¡±


    Part of me wanted to ask what she had just thought of, but I suppressed the urge. Instead, I teased, ¡°Seriously though, I call dibs on the shower first. It¡¯s already so late, I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m gonna get up in the morning.¡±


    Or you could try not reminding her that you¡¯re going to school and she¡¯s stuck here in the house for some reason, Cassie, what the fuck is wrong with you?


    While I was flinching at my internal voice, Izzy just waved a hand. ¡°Go ahead,¡± she replied quietly. ¡°I¡¯m too tired to shower.¡± As if to prove that, she yawned wide and long.


    ¡°You had a good time though, right?¡± I asked.


    Her smile returned. It was a little more subdued than it had been in that instance before she started thinking about whatever it was she was thinking, but definitely there. ¡°Uh huh. It was the best.¡±


    Leaving the girl to head for her room, I went in and took a shower. I hadn¡¯t been exaggerating about needing to sleep. There may have been no fights or anything that day, but I was still tired as hell. This was a break that I had needed. And I was sure things would pick up again very soon. Plus, I had that project to turn in the next day with the others. Not to mention figuring out what the hell that pink paint did, and how to get into the base under the mall.


    Maybe I should ask Wren if she had any ideas about either of those. I wouldn¡¯t tell her how I knew about the base, of course. I didn¡¯t want her that involved. But she could have ideas about how to sneak in there, or even just how to see what was there. And maybe having another person¡¯s input on what the pink paint could be for would be good.


    Either way, all of that would wait until tomorrow. Right now, the only thing I wanted to do was fall into my bed and sleep for as long as possible.


    Before I made it back to my room after the shower, however, there was a muffled scream from the other room, along with a crash. I bolted that way, only to find Izzy sitting up in bed, sweating profusely while looking around in confusion. The end table next to the bed had been tipped over and there was a broken glass on the floor next to it.


    ¡°I¡­ I think I had a nightmare,¡± she murmured weakly before noticing the glass on the floor as I turned on the light. Her eyes widened, and she started to quickly stammer apologies.


    My head shook, and I walked around the glass. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s okay. Just¡­ I¡¯m not sure how the table tipped over.¡±


    ¡°I think I was holding onto the edge of it when I flopped over and pushed it,¡± the other girl murmured weakly with another apology. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have had water by the bed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I repeated. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ll pick up the big pieces carefully, then put a note up on the door so the maids know it¡¯s there. And maybe you shouldn¡¯t sleep in here alone tonight until it¡¯s all cleaned up. Wouldn¡¯t want you want to end up with little bits of glass in your feet.¡±


    She blinked at me, shaking her head. ¡°Where should I sleep?¡±


    With an easy smile, I replied, ¡°You can come in with me if you want. Believe me, it¡¯s a really big bed.


    ¡°Besides, it¡¯s been awhile since I had a sleepover.¡±

 Friends And Enemies 8-05

    Izzy didn¡¯t wake up again, and the two of us slept through the rest of the night. We slept so well, in fact, that I was almost late for my ride to school. This time, however, Jania didn¡¯t wake me up with the vacuum. Instead, she gently touched my arm and woke me carefully to avoid bothering Izzy. I quietly slipped out of bed, whispered a thank you and made sure she had seen the note about the glass in the other room, then made my way to the bathroom to get cleaned up. When I left (after grabbing the bag with my costume from its hiding place and slipping it into my backpack), the kid was still asleep. I hoped she¡¯d stay that way for a bit. She deserved the rest.


    In any case, I made it to school. Which was good, because I was pretty sure that if I¡¯d abandoned Amber and Jae right when we were supposed to give our projects, I¡¯d never hear the end of it. Well, from Amber anyway. Jae would probably just look silently disappointed with me, the thought of which somehow seemed worse than anything Amber could possibly say.


    But I made it, and we presented our report on Laura Cereta, one of the first known feminist and humanist writers in the world from way back in the fourteen hundreds. Amber and I did most of the talking, but Jae filled in her part too. After the main report, the three of us took a few questions (mostly from Mr. Dorn, though a couple other students were actually interested enough to ask something) to prove we knew the material. When we were done, he said he¡¯d let us know what our grade was tomorrow, mentioning that he was quite impressed. Then he moved on to the next group. And that was that, our whole project was over and done with.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Amber muttered on the way back to our desks. ¡°Don¡¯t be a stranger just cuz the project¡¯s over, got it? Seeing that movie last night was pretty awesome.¡± Going briefly silent with a tilted head as she took her seat, the girl belatedly added, ¡°Oops. Guess that kinda sounds like I just want you to hang out with us for the benefits, huh?¡± She looked to me. ¡°Seriously, come hang out at my place some time. It¡¯s not a mansion, but hey. We could still have fun. Right, Jae?¡±


    The other girl nodded, and I gave them both a thumbs up. ¡°Sure, no worries. We¡¯ll hang out.¡± It would be kind of weird, considering I hadn¡¯t really¡­ just gone over to a friend¡¯s house like that since long before this whole Touched thing. Oh, sure, I had friends at school. But they were friends at school. I hung out in groups now and then, went to some parties, that kind of thing. I wasn¡¯t a hermit. But somehow, having a close friend that I confided in and all that had felt¡­ wrong? Dangerous. Something. I couldn¡¯t explain it. All I knew was that whenever I started along the path of making a close friend, something in the back of my head would always tell me it was a bad idea. It made me feel¡­ guilty, like I was betraying someone. Which was dumb. What the hell did I have to feel guilty about? Who could I possibly be betraying?


    Oh well, that whole feeling had kind of faded since I found that orb and all this started happening. Probably because I had a lot more to worry about now than some stupid paranoid thoughts that I couldn¡¯t even actually explain to myself. There were real problems, real reasons for paranoia and to be worried about someone close to me getting hurt. I no longer needed some half-formed vague notions about ¡®betraying¡¯ someone by making a new close friend. Which, I supposed, was one thing to be grateful for. Maybe I¡¯d send my parents a greeting card reading, ¡®Thanks for being evil supervillains, at least now I¡¯m paranoid for a reason.¡¯


    Yeah, that probably wouldn¡¯t go over well. But like with most of my thoughts and fantasies about the various ways I might present the fact that I knew the truth to my family, the thought of their faces in those first few seconds was almost worth it. Sort of. Until I actually stopped to think about it. Then all I could figure was that it would go one of two ways. First, they¡¯d be angry, they¡¯d show me their¡­ evil side. And the thought of that was enough to make me want to die.


    The other option was that they¡¯d be ashamed, sad that I had found out. And¡­ and part of me didn¡¯t want to experience that either. But another part of me did. One part of me wanted to shove it in their faces and scream that I knew they were monsters.


    But they weren¡¯t monsters. They were my family. They were my mom, my dad, my brother. I wanted to scream at them and I wanted to hug them. I wanted them to be good, God damn it. I wanted to throw everything I knew about what they were doing right in their faces, and I also wanted to hide it, bury it deep down. I wanted to forget it, I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. I wanted to deal with it, I wanted it to disappear. I wanted to wake up in the morning and find out everything about my parents being evil was just a bad dream.


    Would I still want that if it meant giving up my powers? I loved my powers. But¡­ but my family. Would I erase my whole identity as Paintball if it meant not just forgetting that my family were a bunch of supervillains, but actually erase that fact and make them normal people instead, the way I used to think they were? Would I choose to become normal if it would make them normal?


    Fuck. I was supposed to be able to answer that question, wasn¡¯t I? What¡­ what would I choose? Gun to my head, one way or the other, which would I choose? Which would I choose?


    ¡°Cassie?¡± A voice interrupted my internal musing. Class was over, and Amber was standing there, looking at me curiously. ¡°You okay? You looked kinda¡­ lost for a minute there.¡±


    Clearing my throat, I nodded quickly while picking myself up and grabbing my bag. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good. Thanks. And hey, glad I got teamed up with you for the project. It¡¯s¡­ it was fun.¡±


    On my way out, Mr. Dorn spoke up. ¡°Cassidy, please wait a second, would you?¡±


    So, I did. Waving to Amber and Jae, I stood by the man¡¯s desk and watched curiously as he adjusted and stacked the papers he¡¯d taken from everyone who presented today, then put them into a folder in his satchel. Zipping it shut, he finally looked up toward me. ¡°It sounds as though you, Jae, and Amber are getting along beyond just doing the project together?¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± Blinking, I nodded. ¡°Yes, sir, they¡¯re cool. Jae knows a lot if you give her time to talk.¡±


    ¡°Yes, she does,¡± he agreed with a small smile. ¡°Most people don¡¯t, though. Most people¨C¡± He cut himself off and just shook his head. ¡°Not a good idea to dwell on that kind of thing. The point is, I¡¯m glad it worked out. Jae¡­¡± He paused, seeming to consider his words. ¡°Jae needs more friends she can count on. People who can be there for her. And you¨C¡± Again, he seemed to stop short, changing whatever he had been about to say. ¡°Eh, never mind. I¡¯m rambling because I¡¯m hungry, see?¡± With a little smile, he gestured to me. ¡°Go ahead¨Coh, you¡¯re ahhh¡­ friends with Tomas Jackson, yeah?¡± When I nodded, he continued. ¡°Great, could you make sure to remind him that he needs to show up here after school for that exam he and I were talking about?¡±


    I agreed before heading out. Sure enough, I saw Tomas at lunch, and told him what Mr. Dorn had said. He, in turn, reminded me that I was supposed to go to his family¡¯s place for dinner that night. Which was going to be interesting. I hadn¡¯t spent a lot of time with Tomas¡¯s family back when we were dating, but I¡¯d spent enough to know that his father was a lot different from Tomas himself. His mother, on the other hand, was more like her son. Much more laid back than her husband. Kent Jackson had always given me the creeps for¡­ well, reasons I couldn¡¯t explain. He was polite enough, for the most part. He was well-spoken, he never said or did anything bad to me. Nonetheless, every time I saw the man, a weird feeling went up my spine.


    But I was just going to have to get over that, or at least shove it down while going to this dinner. Because Tomas would be pretty disappointed if I didn¡¯t show up. Besides, his father didn¡¯t deserve the kind of apprehension I¡¯d felt toward him. Now that I knew my own parents were evil supervillains, I really had to let go of that old imaginary paranoia.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    I¡¯d go to this dinner with my old boyfriend and have a good time. I would not let weird, unfounded feelings ruin that.


    ******


    The house the Jacksons were living in right now was the same one they¡¯d lived in before. It was probably owned by the British government or something and given to their diplomats. The house itself was fairly large, I supposed, for a normal home. It was three stories, but still much smaller than my family¡¯s place, more¡­ cozy. There was a wrought iron fence all the way around the property, with a clearly armed guard just inside the gate. A couple more guards patrolled the grounds, while a fourth guy was barely visible on the roof.


    That might have seemed excessive to some, but this place was basically right near the edge of Sherwood territory. Sherwood, the Fell-Gang that was obsessed with nature, plants, wild animals, that kind of thing. Most of them hated technology, advancement, industrialization, anything like that. They didn¡¯t hold much territory in the city from what I¡¯d seen, but what they did have was guarded obsessively. From what I¡¯d seen in the news, they basically had spies all over their area in the form of animals and random plants. You never knew what kind of information the grass, trees, flowers, even weeds were sending back to the Sherwood people. To say nothing of random squirrels, mice, birds¡­ yeah.


    Not only did Sherwood violently attack any outside gangs who dared set foot in what they considered their space, but cops and Star-Touched had to be careful too. Sherwood didn¡¯t openly attack them quite as much, but you didn¡¯t want to be on your own if they were feeling particularly annoyed. Especially not after dark. And the people who lived there were basically always aware that what they were saying could be spied on through any plants within earshot. Not only that, but cutting plants out of your life was apparently not allowed either. You had to have a full, well-cared for lawn, flowers, the works. One of the reports I¡¯d watched on the news a few months back had said that every once in awhile, residents would receive some kind of plant on their doorstep and were expected to put it in their house and take care of it.


    I couldn¡¯t even imagine living under that kind of oppression and insanity, and my parents were literal supervillains. The officials and Star-Touched teams had tried to root them out (hah), but it was hard when every plant in the general area was basically spying and playing lookout.


    Thankfully, as far as I knew, the spying plants only worked within a certain radius of the Sherwood territory. That¡¯s why they kept their claimed area relatively small, because they couldn¡¯t expand that far without losing their main advantage that helped them keep everyone in line. They¡¯d tried to expand now and then through various means, but got swatted back through a combined effort from the authorities and Star-Touched teams before they could take root (okay, I was sorry for that one).


    So yeah, I didn¡¯t blame the Jacksons for having visible security. From what I remembered based on the other times I¡¯d visited, the whole area surrounding Sherwood space also had an actual organization whose job it was to go out and kill any plant that tried to reach its way out of Sherwood territory, as well as sensors to check for root systems below the ground. It was a whole thing.


    I was planning on taking a quick trip over to check in on Wren once this dinner thing was over, so I brought the bag with my costume along. But there was no way I was going to take it into the house. Not when someone might look inside. So, I hid it on the roof of a nearby fast food place, tucked out of sight, before making my way to the actual house in question.


    The guard at the gate actually recognized me. His name was Joel, and he grinned when I approached. ¡°Well, hey there, Miss Evans. Good to see Tomas didn¡¯t turn into a complete idiot while he was gone and jumped right back into finding the best girl he ever brought home.¡±


    Feeling a deep blush spread across my face, I shook my head. ¡°We¡¯re not together or anything like that, Joel. His parents just wanted me to come to dinner.¡±


    Giving me a look that was clearly doubtful while nodding unconvincingly, the man replied, ¡°Sure thing. Whatever you say. Come on in.¡± He pressed his thumb against the scanner nearby and the gate opened, letting me through. More quietly, he added, ¡°Good to see you again. Have a nice evening in there. Smells pretty good, I think they¡¯ve been going overboard for you. Which,¡± he added slyly, ¡°is clearly just because Tomas¡¯s¡­ parents want to make a good impression.¡±


    Yeah, that blush of mine definitely got worse. Mumbling something under my breath that even I didn¡¯t follow, I headed up to the front door. It opened before I even got in there, and Tomas himself greeted me with a smile.


    ¡°Hey, Cass,¡± he started, stepping back while holding the door. ¡°Come on in, Mum and Dad are just handling a few last minute things, but they wanted me to go ahead and show you to the dining room.¡± He had dressed up somewhat, in black slacks and a dark red polo shirt that was just¡­ unfair. It was unfair how good he looked. Which, of course, did absolutely nothing to help my blush.


    ¡°Um, thanks.¡± Forcing the words out, I stepped through the door into the front hallway. Soft music was playing from somewhere. It was a classical music piece. Erik Satie¡¯s ¡°Trois Gymnopedies¡±, if I remembered correctly. It was one of Tomas¡¯s parents¡¯ favorite pieces. I wasn¡¯t really that into classical music, but I could definitely understand liking it from time to time. This one was¡­ soothing. It made me think of laying on a cloud somewhere. All I wanted to do was relax, like the tension in my muscles instantly eased and the weight on my shoulders lifted a bit, just from hearing it.


    Shaking off that feeling, I followed Tomas to the dining room. We talked for a few minutes there until his parents arrived together. His mother, Millicent (she went by Milli or Mills) Jackson was the first to step over to me. She was a tall, elegant-looking blonde whose regal bearing and gaze reminded me of my mother in some ways. But she was actually a lot different. Tomas had gotten his affinity for British punk music from her. She also tended to tell some pretty raunchy jokes when she was with just Tomas and me. However, she could also present herself just as formally as my mother did when she actually wanted to.


    ¡°Cassidy,¡± the woman greeted me with an endearing smile. ¡°It¡¯s so good to see you again. How are you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, um, I¡¯m good, Mrs. Jackson,¡± I replied, only for her to quickly correct me.


    ¡°It¡¯s Mills, you know that. Let¡¯s not act like strangers, hmm?¡±


    It was Tomas¡¯s father¡¯s turn then, and the man stepped my way. As always, I felt¡­ reluctant to look at him. I couldn¡¯t explain why, even to myself. He was normal-looking, a kind of pale guy with brownish-blond hair and dark green eyes. He¡¯d been dressed formally every time I¡¯d seen him, and this was no exception. There was literally nothing about him that should have been intimidating.


    But he intimidated me, and I had no idea why.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± the man spoke easily, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. ¡°we¡¯re all glad you¡¯re here. I trust your parents are doing well? They always had such excellent stories.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡­ I don¡¯t know enough about their stories, sir,¡± I managed. ¡°But they¡¯re doing fine.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Mr. Jackson murmured before extending a hand to me. ¡°And how is school going?¡±


    Glancing at his hand, I started to reach for it. But Tomas spoke up first, blurting, ¡°Okay, okay, we get it. Come on, Cassidy¡¯s great. Can we eat before she starves to death? I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s not good etiquette.¡±


    Chuckling, Mills waved me to a seat, leaning in to whisper something to her husband. I caught a bit that sounded like she was telling him not to be so stiff.


    So, we sat and ate dinner. It was pretty great. When it was over, Tomas and I went up to his room to talk. His mother made it clear that if she found the door closed, she¡¯d take it off the hinges for good, which turned my face bright red.


    We talked and just sort of hung out for about an hour. Tomas was lying in his beanbag chair strumming his guitar while I sat against his dresser. Eventually, I realized the strumming had stopped, as had Tomas¡¯s voice. Blinking over that way, I saw his chest rise and fall, head turned to the side with his eyes closed. He was asleep.


    Shit. Picking myself up off the floor, I hesitated briefly before quietly making my way out of the room. I¡¯d tell his parents I was leaving, then head out.


    Making my way down from the third floor to the second, I glanced around curiously. I didn¡¯t just want to take off without saying anything. So, seeing a light coming from under the door of the room I knew was Mr. Jackson¡¯s office, I headed that way. I was about to knock, when a loud voice from inside brought me up short.


    ¡°Yes, Sterling, I know.¡±


    My father? Why was Kent Jackson talking to my father? Frowning, I hesitated, looking up and down the hall before listening.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying she was snooping around, that¡¯s it,¡± Mr. Jackson continued, making me stare with wide eyes at the door. Me? Was he talking about me?


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s in the back of the van now, still unconscious. She¡¯ll be out for awhile.¡±


    Right, so¡­ not me. But¡­ a girl was unconscious in a van? That didn¡¯t sound great. And why was Mr. Jackson talking to my dad about that? Was¡­ wait¡­ that wasn¡¯t right, the Jacksons couldn¡¯t be part of¨C


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Kent¡¯s voice replied to something my father had apparently said over the phone. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll take care of it.


    ¡°My power may not work on the girl, but a trip to a quiet little pier and a bullet in the back of the head should do the trick.¡±

 Friends And Enemies 8-06

    My hand was over my mouth, pressing tight to cut off the sound of my gasp. My eyes were practically bulging their way out of my head, and all I could do for that moment was stare at the door ahead of me. My God. Oh my God. My gaze, staring at that door, was distorted by the tears that suddenly leapt to my eyes. No, no, no. Please, no. Not them too. Not this, not this. Why? Why?!


    Move, move, Cassidy! Move before he catches you, or someone else does! Move! Jerking visibly to my mental scream at myself, I turned and quickly made my way down the hall as silently as I could. The whole time, I kept frantically looking over my shoulder, expecting to see the man suddenly burst out with a gun pointed at me or something. Or someone to jump out in front of me. I stumbled, almost falling before catching myself. Go, fuck, go, Cassidy! Fucking go!


    Only when I was already to the stairs and had retreated up them back to the third floor did it occur to me that I had the black silencing paint. Fuck. I could¡¯ve¨CI could¡¯ve just made it easier to get out of there. I could¡¯ve, but I wasn¡¯t thinking straight. I was barely thinking at all, after¡­ that.


    Mr. Jackson did work for my parents. And he was going to kill a girl. Kill a girl. What girl? What girl were they talking about? Wait, not¡­ no, not Izzy. Of course not, why did my brain immediately go there? But who? What¨C He had said that the girl was snooping around. Someone was snooping around and he caught them? And now he was going to have them killed?! Wait, he also said something about his power not working on her. Power? What power? What girl? What the hell was going on?!? Why did it have to be like this? Why wasn¡¯t he just a normal guy? Why did my ex-boyfriend¡¯s father work for my evil parents?! Had he worked for them¨Che had. He¡¯d worked for them the whole time. That was the only thing that made sense, the only¨Coh God, did Tomas know? Did he know? Was he involved? And if he did, if he was¡­ had he ever actually cared about me? Or was I just an assignment? Was he supposed to babysit me or something?


    My hands were covering my ears, pressing so tight against my head it actually hurt. No, no, please. Please no, I didn¡¯t want this. Please wake up, please. Just wake up, wake up!


    Wake up. Wake up, Cassidy. This wasn¡¯t going away. Yes, Tomas¡¯s father was evil. He was evil and he worked for your parents. And Tomas might have something to do with it. Maybe. That sucked. It sucked so much. But what was worse than that? Being murdered. Being dead. And some girl out there, some girl in the back of some van, was about to be just that. So just get the fuck over yourself and your issues, stand up, and do something about it before that happened.


    Just as I thought that, the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from the direction of Mr. Jackson¡¯s office penetrated my head. He was coming. This time, I actually remembered my black paint, making a spot of it appear on my shirt before looking both ways quickly to make sure the coast was clear. Then I shot a bit of red paint up to the ceiling and yanked myself up there, managing to get out of sight in the little overhang area just as Mr. Jackson walked by directly below. He was still on the phone, walking purposefully as he ordered someone to pull the van around. So, he wasn¡¯t talking to my dad anymore. Instead, he was on his way out to¡­ to do what he¡¯d promised he would. Kill the girl. He was on his way out to kill the girl, if I didn¡¯t do something.


    Once he was gone, heading further down the stairs to the first floor, my paint faded and I dropped, landing in a crouch before pushing myself up. Fuck it. Whatever other issues I had, whatever horrible thoughts and fears this whole revelation had spawned in me, I would deal with it later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting that girl, whoever she was, away from Mr. Jackson without letting him know who I was. My problems could wait. Her life couldn¡¯t.


    First, I had to get out of the house. To that end, I made my way downstairs. There was no way I¡¯d be able to sneak out of here the way I did my own house. I didn¡¯t know the security well enough, and it was all much smaller, with at least one guard on the roof. I couldn¡¯t sneak out, so I was going to have to just leave the normal way while trying not to let on¡­ anything at all.


    Reaching the bottom of the stairs, right there by the living room, I was immediately put to the test as far as keeping myself together went, as Mrs. Jackson suddenly appeared in front of me, holding a wine glass in one hand and a plate of brownies in the other. ¡°Oh!¡± A smile appeared, one that¡­ looked awfully genuine. ¡°I was just going to bring these up for you and Tomas.¡±


    Did she know? Did Mrs. Jackson know that her husband was evil, and that he was on his way out to kill some girl right now, a girl that he had in the back of a van out front? Did she know?


    Shaking that off, and swallowing the hard lump that had formed in my throat, I forced myself to reply, ¡°Tomas fell asleep, Mrs. Jackson. I¡¯ve got some homework to do anyway, so I better get home.¡±


    ¡°Aww, that¡¯s too bad. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll feel bad about crashing on you.¡± With a conspiratorial wink, Mrs. Jackson added, ¡°We¡¯ll only make fun of him for it a little bit, okay? Here, take one at least.¡±


    Reminding myself to act as normal as possible, as hard as that was, I forced my hand to take one of the brownies. Knowing what the woman expected, I took a bite. It felt like biting into cardboard. Not because it tasted bad, but because all I could think about was how much the woman in front of me knew about the evil things that her husband and my parents were up to.


    Still, I forced myself to swallow and brought a smile to my face. ¡°Thanks, Mrs. Jackson.¡±


    She started to say something, but was interrupted by a voice from behind me. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m heading out.¡± It was Mr. Jackson. He had his phone in his hand, as I saw when I whipped around. Seeing my reaction, the man simultaneously winced and chuckled. ¡°Sorry, Cassidy. I didn¡¯t mean to scare you.¡± He paused then, seeming to think about something before adding, ¡°You leaving already? Don¡¯t tell me Tomas said something dumb and made things awkward.¡±


    ¡°He fell asleep,¡± Mrs. Jackson informed him, a not-insubstantial amount of amusement in her voice. ¡°Poor boy¡¯s still turned around from the sudden move.¡± There was a hint of¡­ maybe reprimand in her voice? Not much, just a little bit that told me maybe she wasn¡¯t completely cool with the fact that their lives had been suddenly uprooted to bring them here. But it disappeared in her next words, as she added, ¡°If you¡¯re heading out, maybe you can give Cassidy a ride.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly put in before the man could open his mouth. ¡°I sort of already called for a ride, and you know how much it sucks for those Uber people to get a call that cancels.¡±


    Quickly masking the look of relief that came to his face, the man gave a short, polite nod. ¡°I¡¯m going the opposite way, in any case. Good night, Cassidy. I hope to see you again soon.¡±


    It was clear that he wanted to stay and say something to his wife, so I quickly excused myself. Leaving out the front door, I glanced to the side. The van. There was the van that Mr. Jackson had mentioned, sitting in the driveway. It looked like any other ordinary white van. For a second, I froze, before catching myself. Forcing my feet to keep moving, I nodded to the guard at the gate and he let me out. On the way, I glanced back to say thank you. But I used that moment to check the license plate on the plain-looking van, committing it to memory as well as I could.


    Right now, there was a girl in that van. And my ex-boyfriend¡¯s father was going to kill her unless I did something about it. I could worry about everything else that came with this revelation later, after I saved her. But I couldn¡¯t do that as myself. I had to change, and I had to do it fast. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t look like I was in a rush, so I forced myself to walk normally to the end of the street, looking down at my phone as though checking for my ride.


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    As soon as I reached the end of the block, I sprinted for the building I¡¯d left my costume on. At least I had it close. Thank God I¡¯d been planning to visit Wren after dinner. I honestly had no idea what I would have done if I didn¡¯t have it. Try to disguise myself some other way?


    Whatever, the costume was nearby, and it only took me a minute to get myself up onto the roof and quickly change into it. As I pulled the helmet on and secured it, my eyes looked out toward the cross street just down from the Jackson house. There it was. I saw the van. At least, I thought it was the van. It was¡­ it was turning this way. Quickly, I dropped down, laying flat on my stomach behind the metal air conditioning unit. It was dark enough now, being past dinner, that I was pretty sure no one in the van had seen me standing up on the roof of the restaurant.


    Keeping myself low, I listened to the van as it approached. It passed beneath me and I poked my head out to look off the edge of the roof. There. I saw the license plate below, and it was definitely the right one. Okay, that was the van. Now what? I couldn¡¯t just jump in and attack them right now. Not only were we too close to the house, but I had no idea how many people were in the van, what kind of condition the girl was in, or how the bad guys were armed.


    Right, I was going to have to follow them and try to intervene once we got there and before they killed this girl. Which meant I had to keep up with the van without letting them see me. And the only way I was going to be able to do that was by staying far enough behind, taking shortcuts, and hoping that I didn¡¯t end up losing them. At least I knew that they were heading for the water. Mr. Jackson had said something about a pier, so that helped a little bit. Okay, Cassidy, do this right. Shove everything else about this shit aside and whatever you do, don¡¯t lose that van.


    Watching the tail lights of the van as it kept going down the street, I took a running start and launched myself upward, using red paint to reach the next building on the opposite side of the street before running a few steps, popping my skates out with a quick blurted command. From there, I followed the rooftops, trying to stay low while painting my costume black so I wouldn¡¯t stand out. My eyes stayed focused on those tail lights, doing my best not to lose track of which ones were the actual van. A couple times I had to get close enough to double-check, but for the most part I stayed as far back as I dared, using the darkness and height to my advantage, as well as the fact that whenever I saw the van at a stoplight with its turn signal on, I could move ahead and catch it further on. The whole time, we got closer and closer to Lake St. Clair. Or rather, to the Detroit river that the lake fed into. We weren¡¯t going to the lake, we were going to the river.


    The van pulled off the main road and took some side streets. I had to abandon the roofs and make my way through the wooded park area on the side of the road on foot while doing my best not to be seen by anyone. Again, being able to make my costume completely black helped. I had no idea how people went around doing the superhero thing without being able to change the color of their costume at any given point to match the situation. It sounded much harder.


    Now I was running through the forest to the side of the road. Or rather, I started running, before realizing that was dumb. Instead, I jumped straight up to the top of the nearest tree with the aid of a bit of blue paint, then leapt to the next, using a mixture of that and my red paint now and then to yank myself onward much faster. With the help of green paint for speed, my feet barely touched each tree before I leapt to the next one. It felt like I was some super-modernized and colorful version of Tarzan or something.


    Some small part of me wondered how I could navigate the dark forest I¡¯d never been in that well. Seriously, I jumped from tree to tree like I¡¯d been there my whole life and knew every branch. What was that about? But there were far more important things for me to focus on.


    Finally, the van reached a rest stop or something, an open space with one small building labeled restrooms, lit by a single struggling lamp post. Sure enough, there was a path leading down to a pier overlooking the river. This was it. This was definitely it. As soon as I saw the van stop, I threw myself out of the tree, using black paint to land silently on the ground behind a bush. We were here. This was it. I had to do this right. The girl. I couldn¡¯t let them kill her.


    Maybe she knew something about their operation. Not only was this my chance to save her, whoever she was, it was also my chance to find something out about my family¡¯s organization. Whatever she knew, it was important enough for Mr. Jackson, a British diplomat (seriously, how did that fit into my family¡¯s criminal empire?) to personally make sure she was dead. This wasn¡¯t just any old victim. She knew something. I had to get her out of there, without revealing who I was.


    But Mr. Jackson had a power. He¡¯d said that his power didn¡¯t work on this girl. Why didn¡¯t it work? And what was his power? Something that should have allowed him to avoid killing her? That was sure what it sounded like when he¡¯d been on the phone. But I wasn¡¯t sure what that meant. So, he had a power that I knew nothing about. This was going to be fun.


    The van doors opening caught my attention, and I squinted that way through the dim light to see three men get out. None of them were Mr. Jackson. But the man himself stepped out a moment later, as the first three looked around, clearly watching for any uninvited guests. They were armed with what looked like submachine guns, all of them dressed the same as his security detail. They probably were from his security detail, actually.


    Mr. Jackson turned in a slow circle after exiting the van. His gaze passed over the bush where I was hiding, but didn¡¯t slow at all. He scanned the lot before snapping his fingers. As he did so, one of the men reached back into the van and yanked a struggling figure out before giving her a toss to the ground.


    The girl. Her head was covered by some kind of black hood, and her hands were cuffed behind her back. She started to curse as the man pulled her out of the van, but it turned to a yelp when she was thrown to the ground.


    ¡°No one saw you grab her?¡± Mr. Jackson demanded of one of the men beside him.


    ¡°No, sir,¡± the man replied. ¡°No one was around and we took side streets to get her to the house.¡±


    ¡°Get her up,¡± Mr. Jackson ordered then, speaking in a flat, bored voice that told me he just wanted to be done with this and move on. He didn¡¯t care that he was about to kill some girl. He wanted it over with so he could go home, or whatever he was going to do. This was nothing new to him.


    One of the men yanked the girl up by the arm, setting her on her feet. She started to say something, but her words were unintelligible. She was clearly gagged somehow under the hood. Not that it mattered, as she¡¯d barely gotten a few sounds out before Mr. Jackson pulled a pistol from his suit jacket and pressed it against her head. ¡°Stop,¡± he ordered, and she fell silent.


    Just as I was building myself up to send a shot of red paint that would yank the gun away from the girl¡¯s head, he lowered it. ¡°Not here,¡± the man said simply. ¡°Bring her to the pier so the body lands in the water.¡±


    That was enough to make the girl start to bolt, even with her hands still cuffed. But two of the men grabbed her by either arm. They carried the struggling girl after them while she gave some kind of muffled scream. She was fighting, struggling with everything she had. But it didn¡¯t matter. They were stronger, bigger, and they bodily carried the girl with them, down that path.


    Okay, Cassidy. This was it. Quickly, but silently thanks to black paint, I made my way in a running crouch behind the van and over to the trees on the far side. The men were pulling their prisoner right down there. She fought the whole time, kicking and muffledly screaming. Not that any of them cared.


    Raising both hands, I focused on my red paint and got ready to yank their weapons away, while they pushed the girl right up to the edge of the pier.


    Then Mr. Jackson reached out and yanked the hood off her head, snapping, ¡°It didn¡¯t have to be this way, kid. But you wouldn¡¯t stop digging, and people who keep digging¡­ eventually they make a grave.¡±


    The hood was gone. I could see her face. I could see the girl they were about to kill, the one who knew enough about my family¡¯s criminal empire that they wanted her dead.


    It was her. The girl who had spent years mocking me for looking like a boy, who had started that whole thing about ¡®male cheerleaders¡¯ when I¡¯d been on the team in junior high, the girl who had always seemed to hate me for no reason.


    I was here to save Paige Banners.

 Friends And Enemies 8-07

    Why Paige? Of all the people in the entire universe I had to be saving, why Paige Banners?


    Okay, she didn¡¯t deserve to die. That was true. As much as I didn¡¯t like her, as much of a bitch as she had always been to me, she definitely didn¡¯t actually deserve to die. But still. Why did I have to be the one to save her, considering all the effort she¡¯d put into mocking and belittling me?


    Yeah, it was childish. Definitely. No question. And I was absolutely going to save her, no matter my own personal feelings. But that didn¡¯t stop the grumbling in the back of my head, along with a lot of questions revolving around what the hell she could know about my family¡¯s business that made her such a pressing target for being killed? Executed, really, by a literal British diplomat.


    There were a lot of things going on here that I didn¡¯t understand. That much was obvious. And I probably wasn¡¯t going to get any answers to those things unless I could get over myself and save the girl who had loudly and vocally hated me since we were in middle school. So¡­ yay.


    But, oh well. I was going to save her even if the thought of doing so made me want to grind my teeth down into powder. No way was I going to let Paige get shot in the head by one of my parents¡¯ secret evil minions just because she was a bitch to me. I wasn¡¯t a psychopath.


    That said, I still had to do this right. It wouldn¡¯t exactly do either of us any good if I showed myself and then immediately got mowed down by all of Mr. Jackson¡¯s armed security escorts.


    Speaking of Mr. Jackson, he was raising the pistol in his hand, pointing it at the clearly sobbing girl, who was frantically pleading with him through the gag in her mouth. He looked regretful, but not regretful enough to stop or even reconsider. This whole thing was happening right now, no more time for thinking.


    Moving quickly, I shot a glob of red paint over the raised pistol. At the same time, I shot another bit of red at the ground several yards past where the group was, further up the pier. Even as Mr. Jackson and the other guys with him were reacting to his gun being painted, I activated it, instantly yanking the gun from his grip and sending it to that spot behind them with a soft clapping sound from the silenced weapon firing off (hopefully harmlessly) into the woods.


    But I didn¡¯t leave it at that, of course. Even as the gun was flying through the air to land on the ground, my hand was already snapping over to fire another shot of red to the van itself. Activating that with a thought connected it to the red paint already on the pier. The van was yanked off the ground and sent tumbling side over side right toward the clustered trio of armed security guys who had just pivoted to face my direction. Two of them dove out of the way, one dropping his gun in the process. The third was hit by the van, crying out as he was knocked off the pier into the water. Mr. Jackson and Paige were both missed entirely, the van settling into a badly damaged heap on its roof just a couple feet from where the two were still standing, frozen.


    Target, target. I had to give them another target. A more important and immediate target. To that end, I used blue paint under my feet to launch myself up and out, turning over in a somersault in the air before landing right in front of the two men who had dived out of the way. They were just picking themselves up when I caught each of them by an arm. Painting a small image of a muscular man flexing his biceps on my chest in purple, I used the strength boost to haul them off the ground before turning and hurling them off into the water near where their friend had gone. They went flying off, screaming in the process as their guns clattered to the dirt.


    So yeah, two seconds in and all three normal guys were¡­ well, not dealt with, but at least delayed and disarmed for the moment. It would take them time to get out of the water. But that wasn¡¯t the main problem. Mr. Jackson was. He had some kind of power that I knew nothing about. It could¡¯ve been anything. Except he¡¯d said that it ¡®didn¡¯t work¡¯ on Paige, so I was assuming it wasn¡¯t super strength or healing or anything like that. It was something else.


    But I really wasn¡¯t in the mood to find out what that something was the hard way. Mr. Jackson was still, understandably, trying to react to his gun being yanked from his hand, then a van flying in out of nowhere to nearly run him over, and then a couple of his men being thrown over his head out into the water. It was a lot to take in over just a brief handful of seconds when he¡¯d had no idea anyone else was even out here. And I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to give him time to recover. So, while the strength boost was still active, I pivoted, snatching one of the dropped guns off the ground before hurling it that way. He snapped an arm up to block it reflexively, but still staggered backward with a cry, and I heard the crack of bone where the pistol hit him.


    By that point, I had already used one more shot of red paint. This one, however, was aimed at Paige. With a startled scream, she was hauled off her feet and flung back toward my outstretched red gloves. The girl collided with me, and I stumbled a little before catching myself. A quick glance back the other way showed the men already recovering and clambering out of the water. Mr. Jackson was starting to move toward the gun that I¡¯d hit him with, and there was a lot of shouting. Yeah, this whole situation was about to be really bad, really quick.


    But I couldn¡¯t just let the guys here, or (more importantly) my parents wonder how Paintball could possibly have found out about this. Remembering what the guy a few moments earlier had said, I quickly used red paint to yank the gun away from Mr. Jackson and tossed it while taunting him with a quick, ¡°You should tell your minions to be more subtle when they grab someone. Or at least pay attention when they¡¯re being followed!¡±


    Painting my gloves purple for strength then, I grabbed the handcuff chain with both hands and ripped it apart. Luckily, they hadn¡¯t bothered using staydown cuffs. These were the normal, old-fashioned kind. So I was able to easily break them before pointing into the woods. ¡°Run!¡±


    Rather than doing what I told her to, Paige stared at me and yelled something that was muffled by the gag. Her hands reached up to try to undo the gag, and only then did I notice that it had some kind of complicated buckle system that made it hard to undo by yourself.


    ¡°Just go!¡± I shot a bit of green paint at her stomach and gave the girl a push. ¡°I¡¯ll be right beh¨C¡± That was as far as I got before catching sight of Mr. Jackson pointing some other gun he¡¯d grabbed. Quickly, I painted an orange hand flipping him off on my back, spinning around to grab Paige and yank her out of the way. A few quiet gunshots filled the air, and I felt them ricochet off my back, stinging a bit. Paige was screaming again. That time when I pushed her, she ran. Fucking finally.


    As soon as the girl disappeared into the treeline, I shot a wide spray of red paint all along the wooded ground just past the edge of the parking lot in front of me. Then I spun and dropped to one knee. The other men had retrieved their guns, or produced new ones, and were all taking aim. But before they could start firing, I shot another spray of red that way, coating them and Mr. Jackson. Then I connected the paints and sent a cloud of random ground debris right into their faces. Dozens of tiny pebbles, twigs, leaves, dirt, and more were sent flying that way while they recoiled and cried out.


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    But we weren¡¯t out of the woods yet. Well, technically I wasn¡¯t even in the woods yet. The point was, there were more bad guys coming. Like, a lot more. I heard loud engines and my eyes snapped that way in time to see a couple more vans speeding along the road toward us. Shit, shit, shit. Time to go! To that end, I quickly painted green lightning bolts on my legs and used the extra speed to sprint off into the trees, while the new cars were still skidding to a stop and Mr. Jackson and his guys were recovering from having a bunch of debris thrown in their faces.


    Racing through the trees with my enhanced speed, I quickly caught up with the stumbling Paige. As soon as I was within sight of her, I activated the paint I¡¯d shot her with earlier and she was suddenly moving faster. Apparently it was enough of a surprise that she nearly fell on her face. Which totally wasn¡¯t my intention. Not consciously anyway. Before she could fall, I reached out to grab her arm. She jumped and spun with her fist up, before freezing upon seeing who it was.


    ¡°You¡¯re faster now, so use it and keep running!¡± Without thinking about it, I reached out and caught her by the hand. In most situations, I would sooner have picked up a hissing and spitting venomous snake. But this wasn¡¯t a normal time. Her hand clutched onto mine with what felt like desperation and we ran together through the forested area. Behind us, we could both hear more gunshots clipping the trees around us while men shouted and car engines started back up. They were going to try to cut us off. And, considering I had no idea where we were going or what was around, they could probably pull it off. They clearly knew this area better than I did. The headstart and my powers were our only advantage, and even those wouldn¡¯t be worth much if we were stupid about this whole thing. With numbers and weapons they could beat my powers, and if we just ran right to them, the headstart wouldn¡¯t matter.


    Just as I was thinking that, I felt a tug at my arm. Paige was trying to lead me into running to the left, deeper into the wooded area rather than straight through. Apparently she¡¯d had the exact same thought about being cut off. Smothering my instinctive urge to disagree with whatever she thought, I nodded, and the two of us started running that way instead. The speed boost had run out by that point, but I didn¡¯t trigger another one, not yet at least. I wanted to save some paint and let it recharge a little bit.


    Also, I needed to save some to do things like what I did when the sound of approaching footsteps chasing us got closer. Pointing my free hand down, I shot a puddle of blue just ahead of us. We ran onward, and Paige gave me what was obviously a confused look. But she got it a second later, as the sound of running footsteps was interrupted by a quick, short scream and a crack as our nearest pursuer was launched upward to crash into a low tree branch.


    Continuing on, I used a few more traps to slow down our pursuers. There were a couple blue puddles that I activated as we passed them, and a long line of yellow paint that would slow down anyone who happened to step in it. Given it was pretty dark out here, the guys behind us had to slow down a good bit to watch the ground. Which was a good chance for us to extend our lead. I did that repeatedly, enough to hit a few more guys and keep the rest nervous.


    Unfortunately, the fact it was dark also affected us. Neither Paige, nor I could see very well, and we kept stumbling over various roots and shit, almost spraining our ankles, or worse, a few times. I was pretty sure she didn¡¯t know where we were going any better than I did. We were just intent on getting away from all the guys with guns.


    Just ahead of us was a really big tree with a long, crooked branch growing out above the path we were on. A bit to the left was a steep hill. Seeing that, I pulled my hand free from the other girl¡¯s and painted my arm purple before wrapping it around her. ¡°Grab on,¡± I snapped quickly. I barely gave the taller girl time to put both arms quickly around my neck before using my other hand to shoot red toward the tall branch while we were still running. It yanked us upward, and I switched to a shot of blue to coat that same branch while releasing the red once we had momentum. Tightly clutching the girl I never would have willingly touched with a ten-foot pole in almost any other situation, I sent us flying to that blue spot on the branch, which launched us even higher when we landed on it. The two of us were hurled into the air, and I used the momentum and height to carry us over, landing on top of that high, steep hill.


    Flashlight beams were already cutting through the trees, and we could hear footsteps and loud voices. Paige started to move, but I use the remaining strength boost to yank her down while dropping myself. Painting myself black, I did the same to her, shooting black to silence her while holding my hand in front of the visor in a shushing motion.


    Thank fuck, she seemed to get the point and laid completely still. We pressed ourselves against the ground, watching just over the edge of that hill toward the path we¡¯d just been running along. The men were right behind us. I could see Mr. Jackson in the lead, an assault rifle in his hands by that point as he snapped orders to his subordinates and kept moving. Just as he reached the spot directly below us, he stopped and looked around. Quickly, Paige and I ducked back. But we could hear his voice as he spoke.


    ¡°Alpha and Beta, keep moving along the streets. I want a full canvas, they don¡¯t get back into the city. Delta and Epsilon, spread out and do a tree by tree search from here all the way to the waterline. Flush them out, whatever it takes. You find anything, you let everyone know. Gamma, come in from the west side and meet us in the middle. Where¡¯s that helicopter? Get it out here right now. And keep blocking those cell signals.¡±


    Oh great, they were bringing in a helicopter too. That was just fantastic. Paige and I definitely had to get out of here before that thing became an issue. And, apparently, we had to do it by getting past a whole lot more bad guys than I¡¯d even thought. There was some other group coming in from the same direction we had been moving originally. This was just great. Not to mention, I apparently couldn¡¯t call out for help either. Not that I was sure who I would call that could actually get out here quickly, but still. Maybe the Minority would have helped. And wouldn¡¯t it have been fun to try to explain to Tomas why his dad was arrested by the local teen superheroes?


    The men below us had moved on by then, but they were still close, spreading out to look through the trees for where we could have gone. As I was thinking about what to do, Paige shook my shoulder. She was pointing at the gag in her mouth and making emphatic, yet quiet, noises. Apparently, she really wanted it out.


    I thought about leaving it in, to be honest. This was the most I¡¯d ever been able to stand being around the other girl, and it had everything to do with the fact that she couldn¡¯t say anything. It seemed like a shame to throw that away and let her start talking again.


    Okay, that was bad. But seriously, she was not a nice person. At least not to me.


    But, somewhat reluctantly, I used both hands to unclip the buckle, fumbling with it a little bit before pulling the gag out of her mouth.


    She took a few seconds then, opening and shutting her mouth and making very soft gagging noises as she worked her jaw. Finally, the girl spoke. To her credit, she kept her voice very low, a whisper that barely reached my ears.


    ¡°The water,¡± she murmured. ¡°I know this area. There¡¯s a boat we can use on the water. It¡¯s not that far from here. I think we can make it with your paint stuff.¡±


    Okay, apparently I¡¯d been wrong when I assumed she didn¡¯t know anything about this area. Hesitating slightly, I whispered back, ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    If she¡¯d known it was me, Paige would have had a scathing remark then. Instead, she just gave a quick nod. ¡°Trust me, I don¡¯t want to be found by those guys any more than you do. They were about to kill me.¡±


    So, I nodded back to her. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    With one more glance around to make sure we were clear for the moment, the two of us carefully stood up and started moving back toward the water. Before we¡¯d gone more than a couple steps, however I felt Paige¡¯s hand catch my arm. ¡°Hey¡­¡±


    Blinking, I turned that way, just in time for her to suddenly hug me tightly. I made a noise of surprise, as the girl who had hated me since we¡¯d met and who had gone out of her way to belittle and insult me every chance she got suddenly embraced me.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she whispered. ¡°Like I said, those¡­those guys were gonna kill me. Thank you. Thank you. I can¡¯t¡­ I¡­¡± I could hear the lump in her throat, could feel the way her fear made her entire body shake along with her voice. ¡°You are seriously the most awesome person in the world.¡±


    Yup, it was official.


    This was the most fucked up night of my life.

 Friends And Enemies 8-08

    At least there was one good thing about the fact that these woods were crawling with guys who wanted to kill us. It meant that we had to keep quiet, so I didn¡¯t have to actually talk to Paige. I had no idea what I would have done if I¡¯d been expected to keep up a conversation with the girl who had spent so much time and effort attacking every aspect of my existence throughout the entire time I had known her.


    We also had a bit of an advantage in that the people searching for us thought we were heading for the road or at least toward the city. They had no idea we were going for a boat instead. Still, that was something that could change in an instant, so we had to move carefully. Unlike our earlier headlong flight through the woods, this time we were more cautious. We both crept from bush to bush, keeping our eyes and ears open.


    I used black paint sparingly here and there, just whenever we thought there might be someone vaguely within earshot. We could see their flashlight beams bouncing everywhere, but not all of them were using those, so we couldn¡¯t count on that kind of warning constantly. Slow and steady, we just had to go slow and steady.


    Except not that slow, because the sound of an approaching helicopter reminded me that we had that problem too. The chopper came in low and fast from the east, its spotlight beam shining down through the trees.


    ¡°Whatever you did to piss these guys off,¡± I whispered under my breath, ¡°it doesn¡¯t look like they¡¯re giving up any time soon.¡±


    I heard the girl audibly gulp beside me before she muttered, ¡°They¡¯re trying to stop me from getting to a computer. Because if they don¡¯t, this whole thing is over and they can¡¯t touch me anymore.¡±


    That made me blink at her. Squinting in the darkness, I could barely make out the other girl¡¯s face. Not that I ever really wanted to see much of Paige to begin with. ¡°What do you mean? What happens if you get to a computer?¡±


    She hesitated, before replying, ¡°If I get to a computer, I can upload the files I stole to my cloud servers. Then, if anything happens to me, the files will go out everywhere. They know that. That¡¯s why they¡¯re so desperate to stop us right now, because if I can upload the files, they won¡¯t dare touch me. Their secrets are too important.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°You¡¯re saying you¡¯ve got a bunch of their secrets on some kind of USB or something and they didn¡¯t just take it from you?¡±


    Even in the darkness, I could see her faint, humorless smile. ¡°They didn¡¯t find it. The point is, if we can get out of here and to a computer, you don¡¯t have to worry about me anymore. I upload this information and set it to go out if anything happens. Then they¡¯ll have no choice but to leave me alone.¡±


    ¡°You sure they will?¡± I asked, thinking about the way my family had been ready to kill me (without knowing it was me) to protect their secrets.


    ¡°Trust me,¡± came the response, ¡°these people care way too much about themselves to risk losing everything. As long as I make it clear that I¡¯m not releasing the information if they leave me alone, they¡¯ll back off. For now, anyway. It¡¯s a short term solution.¡±


    ¡°And in the long term?¡± I asked.


    ¡°In the long term, they¡¯ll try to find a way to delete the files and take away my leverage,¡± Paige replied. ¡°But I¡¯m pretty good with computers. It¡¯s how I got the files to begin with, when I was¡­¡± She trailed off, a brief look of what seemed like pain crossing her normally perfect face before she muttered, ¡°Never mind. Just¡­ help me get out of here and you can be done with this. Believe me, you don¡¯t want to be any more involved than you already are.¡±


    ¡°You might be surprised,¡± I mumbled as it struck me that this was the longest conversation I¡¯ve ever had with the girl where we didn¡¯t insult and attack each other. I hadn¡¯t even known that she was into computers and that stuff. Shaking it off, I looked to her. ¡°If you¡¯ve got this top secret information that could expose whoever these guys are, it sounds like you should go to the authorities.¡± That was, of course, a bad idea, at least here in Detroit. But I wanted to see how much she knew about that.


    Sure enough, Paige shook her head quickly. ¡°No, it¡¯s too dangerous. The second I let go of my leverage and play scorched earth, it¡¯s over. They¡¯ll hit me with everything they¡¯ve got and I¡¯ll be dead within the hour. And so will my family and everyone I care about. I¡¯m not doing that. Not yet. There¡¯s¡­¡±


    Again, she trailed off. It looked like she wanted to tell me something, but thought better of it. ¡°Look, thank you for saving me. Seriously. I have no idea how you ended up out here to do it, but you¡¯re amazing. You¡¯re too amazing to get involved any deeper in this. I don¡¯t want to do that to you. This isn¡¯t stopping a purse snatching or catching some robbers. And I swear I don¡¯t mean that as an insult. It¡¯s just¡­ this is more than anyone should have to deal with. I don¡¯t want to deal with it, but they destroyed¡ª¡± Catching herself in mid-sentence, Paige amended, ¡°There¡¯s things I need to do, things I need to find out, before I can take the next step. You don¡¯t want to be involved in that.¡±


    Resisting the urge to snap at the other girl, I took a breath before pointing out, ¡°You do realize that they already know I¡¯m involved, right? It¡¯s kind of hard to mistake me for someone else.¡±


    Paige gave a short nod. ¡°We get my leverage uploaded and I¡¯ll tell them to leave you alone, I swear. All of this¡­ it doesn¡¯t go away with the leverage, but it gives me time. The people behind this¡­ they¡¯re bad. Really bad. But they also really like their secrets. They¡¯ll negotiate with me if I have the ability to expose them. Like I said, if anything happens to me after this stuff gets uploaded, all their secrets get blown out into the world. If it comes down to either leaving me alone or being exposed, they¡¯ll leave me alone. And I¡¯ll make them leave you alone. You¡¯ll be part of the deal. After what you did for me, it¡¯s the least I can do. We just have to get this stuff to a computer with an internet connection, that¡¯s all.¡±


    I wanted to ask a lot more things, such as how they hadn¡¯t taken her evidence away from her when they had her prisoner. Or how she had found something that important to begin with. Hell, I wanted to ask her specifics about what the evidence was. I wanted to grab the girl and shake her and ask what she knew about my family. But that might not exactly be subtle. No, I had to convince her to trust and confide in me even more. And she wasn¡¯t going to do that until she felt secure. Which meant letting her upload that information as a safety net to make my parents and their people back off.


    Was it really bad that I had the brief instinct to make her stop to protect the family? Even after everything I knew they had done, some part of me wanted to destroy that evidence. It wasn¡¯t very loud, but the fact that it existed at all was¡­ troublesome. It made me fall silent and really think for a minute about who I was. What the hell was wrong with me? My family was evil. They deserved to go to prison. They deserved to be stopped.


    And yet¡­ God damn it. Fuck emotions sometimes.


    Thankfully, I was distracted from that bit of terrible introspection as we reached the edge of the woods. Ahead of us was a gravel covered beach area with a small cottage that looked like it hadn¡¯t been inhabited in years. There was a rundown little dock, with a boat tied to it.


    The area looked clear, but just as we were about to make our move, the sound of the helicopter got a lot louder. It was looping around and coming in fast, the spotlight playing out over the trees and beach. Quickly, I pulled Paige by the arm and dropped into a crouch with her. At the same time, I covered my entire body with black paint and wrapped myself around the bigger girl to shield her from the spotlight.


    Yeah, of all the places I wanted to be in the world, ¡®cuddling with Paige Fucking Banners¡¯ was right around the very bottom, bottom, bottom of that list. Please move on, Mr. Helicopter. Move on really fucking quickly.


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    It did, thank God. The beam swept over us once quickly, but didn¡¯t pause. The chopper kept going, making its way down the beach and out toward the far side of the woods. As soon as it did, I released Paige and quickly pushed back. Somehow, I avoided making a disgusted sound.


    Paige didn¡¯t seem to notice my disgust. Her attention was solely on the boat. ¡°My friend Edwin keeps that boat here. He bought it, but he didn¡¯t want his parents to know so he keeps it here at his dead uncle¡¯s place. We go joyriding in it sometimes. It should have enough gas to get us out of here, but we¡¯ll have to row first so they don¡¯t hear the engine too soon.¡±


    Yeah, I knew Edwin. And I was pretty sure that the main thing he used that boat for was to go out on the water and get high. But, whatever. Of all the reasons I had to dislike Paige, the fact that she hung out with people who smoked pot (and probably did herself) wasn¡¯t one of them. Who gave a shit? I was pretty sure Simon did plenty of that himself, though never at home. Mom would have crucified him, maybe literally.


    The two of us gave one last quick look around, then rose and sprinted, hunched over a bit, toward the boat. We would untie it, row further out into the water, then start the motor and be gone while these guys were still searching.


    At least, that was the plan. Unfortunately, just as we neared the boat, a figure stepped out from behind the house. It was Mr. Jackson, and he held the assault rifle I¡¯d seen earlier pointed at Paige. ¡°That is far enough,¡± the man announced flatly. ¡°Paintball, I believe you call yourself? If I see you point your hand at either of us, I will open fire. Do you truly want to see if your paint is faster than a few dozen bullets?¡±


    Fuck. He had a point. I could make the girl bulletproof, but not before he shot her. Not with him as ready as he was. If I made a move, Paige would be dead, and all three of us knew it.


    On top of that, Mr. Jackson had some kind of power that apparently didn¡¯t work on her. But it might work on me, and I had no idea what it was because I had stupidly not asked the girl during our trip through the woods.


    I had to do something, but what? With that gun pointed at Paige and some kind of unknown superpower possibly in play, what the hell could I do? Think, Cassidy, think fast!


    None of the paint I had right now would stop him from shooting her. Maybe the pink paint would have, but I still had no idea what it did.


    Wait a second.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I was you,¡± I informed the man while trying to make my voice much calmer than I actually felt. ¡°If you shoot her, I¡¯ll get mad. And if I get mad, I¡¯ll use the pink paint.¡±


    As far as threats went, it obviously wasn¡¯t much of one on the surface. Sure enough, Mr. Jackson didn¡¯t look impressed. ¡°The pink paint,¡± he echoed dully, his tone making it clear that it was more repeating my statement than an actual question.


    Still, I raised my hands slowly above my head, turning the right glove pink so he could see. ¡°You must know a lot about what I¡¯ve been doing, the things I¡¯ve been involved with already. But I¡¯ve never used the pink paint. Why? Because most people don¡¯t deserve something like that. But if you shoot that girl, trust me, you¡¯ll deserve it.¡±


    There was a moment of brief hesitation from the man before he slowly shook his head. ¡°You expect me to believe that you have some kind of secret weapon that you haven¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh shit, ow!¡± I suddenly blurted, turning a bit to yank the pink glove off before throwing it to the side away from all of us with another yelp of pain. Fake pain, of course. I didn¡¯t feel a thing.


    But Mr. Jackson didn¡¯t know that. His gaze instinctively turned to follow the pink glove as it flew away from me, which took his gun very slightly off of Paige. And that was all I needed. Painting green along my sleeves for speed, I sent a shot of red toward his gun and a bit of blue at his feet. The rifle was torn from his grasp an instant after the man realized he¡¯d made a mistake. Then he was launched into the air with a shout. As he started to fall, I hit him with black paint and yellow, to both silence him so he couldn¡¯t call anyone, and to slow his fall so it would take him longer to reach the ground.


    My hand grabbed Paige, and I covered her hand in green paint as well while blurting, ¡°Run!¡±


    The two of us sprinted. I used a shot of red to grab my glove back, refusing to leave that behind for them to analyze.


    Mr. Jackson hit the ground, but before he could do anything, I shot a bit of red at him and another at the tree in the distance. He was yanked off his feet and flung that way, while the two of us made it to the boat.


    ¡°No time for subtle,¡± I snapped. ¡°Use the motor now, go!¡±


    She didn¡¯t argue, quickly starting the engine as I grabbed the rope tying the boat to the dock. Using a bit of purple paint, I ripped the rope free, and the boat took off. Both of us nearly fell out, before dropping down into the seats. We were sent, engine screaming, along the waves of the river.


    But that helicopter was still in the sky, and it was starting to circle around. Obviously, Mr. Jackson had managed to call in the instant that black paint wore off. The chopper was heading for the river, heading for us.


    I had another idea, looking toward the engine while pointing my hand that way, I shot a bit of green paint at it. Suddenly, the propellers were spinning much faster than they had been, and the boat was practically flying over the water.


    Over the next thirty seconds, I used the green paint a couple more times. We were far ahead of where the helicopter expected us to be, and the river was too dark for it to easily find us. So dark, in fact, that we could barely see each other. But it worked. The chopper was much further back, sweeping its spotlight over the water as it searched for us in the wrong place.


    Still, I didn¡¯t want to push things too much. It would spread out it¡¯s search pattern soon enough. So, as soon as we were away from the wooded area, I looked over to the other girl. All I could see was her vague shape through the darkness. ¡°You better take us back to land. And for the record, what exactly are that guy¡¯s powers? Cuz that would¡¯ve been useful information back there. And why didn¡¯t he try to use them?¡±


    ¡°He screws up people¡¯s memories,¡± the other girl informed me. ¡°He can erase them, implant them, change them, anything like that. But he can only do it through physical contact.¡±


    ¡°And he didn¡¯t just do that to you in the first place because¡­?¡±


    Her answer was a flat, ¡°Because it doesn¡¯t work on me.¡± And that was all that Paige would say about it, as she brought the boat back to solid ground. It was just a random part of beach, and the two of us scrambled out of the boat, leaving it there without a word. Edwin would have to find it later.


    We were back to the city proper. The streets were busy even at this time of night, and Mr. Jackson had no idea where we ended up. But the only way to make sure that Paige was safe was to get her to a computer.


    Yet again, that small voice in the back of my head asked if I really wanted Paige Banners to have leverage over my family. Pointedly ignoring it, I grabbed her by the arm. ¡°Come on, I know where an internet cafe is. They¡¯ll be all over your neighborhood, no way you¡¯re getting to your house.¡±


    With that, I put an arm around the girl and used a shot of red to yank us to the nearest roof. Paige yelped, grabbing me tightly as we shot up toward that building. But she didn¡¯t protest or curse me out. Nor did she complain when we had to do it again to get to the next roof.


    From there, we made our way several blocks, before eventually reaching the cafe. Landing in the parking lot, I gestured. ¡°Do your thing, then we can talk about how much I need to know. I¡¯ll keep an eye out.¡±


    Once again, she hugged me. Paige Banners hugged me twice in one night. What the fuck was even my life right now? ¡°Thanks, I¡¯d be dead without you.¡±


    Then the girl went inside, and I watched the street. There were a few people paying attention, a couple of whom came up and asked for actual autographs. This was weird. I indulged them as much as I could, before glancing over my shoulder toward the window where I had seen Paige move to a computer.


    She wasn¡¯t there. Quickly, I excused myself and went right to the building. The girl behind the desk started to absently tell me the price, before looking up and staring at me in surprise. I slipped past her with a murmured apology, moving through the store. Paige wasn¡¯t anywhere in sight. But I could see a rear exit. Goddamnit, what the hell?


    On the screen of the computer she had been using, Paige had left a message written in the notepad program. It read, ¡®Thanks for everything Paintball. I have my leverage now, so they¡¯ll leave me alone. But you shouldn¡¯t be any more involved in this. I know you¡¯ll probably be mad about me ditching you, but it really is for the best. You don¡¯t deserve this. Good luck with your superheroing. ¨C Paige. P.S. You¡¯re still pretty awesome. <3¡¯


    For a moment, I just stared at the screen. Dammit, she got her leverage and split. It was obvious that she wasn¡¯t going to confide in me. She wasn¡¯t going to tell Paintball the secret she knew about my family, because she thought she was protecting ¡®him.¡¯ And she sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to tell Cassidy. Somehow, I had to convince her to let me help. I had to get her to let me in on the secrets she had.


    But how in the hell was I supposed to do that?

 Friends And Enemies 8-09

    ¡°You want me to break her legs?¡±


    Jolting a bit at the question, I looked across the lunch room table at the girl who had asked it. Amber. It was the next day after my whole¡­ complicated evening at Tomas¡¯s, and she and I were eating lunch as we waited for Jae, who was finishing up some kind of extra credit work in the science lab. I still wasn¡¯t exactly sure what for, but whatever, she did a lot of extra credit stuff. Either she just liked doing it, or she was pushing to get into a really good university and wanted to pad out her application. Which was fair.


    Seeing my surprised expression, Amber nodded across the room. ¡°Paige. You keep staring at her. And you¡¯re holding that fork so tight, I¡¯m afraid you might snap it in half.¡±


    Yeah, Paige was here. She must have been really confident in whatever leverage she had, because she had just shown up to school as if nothing had happened. Looking at her today, you never would have guessed that she¡¯d had a gun pointed to her head the night before. You would never know she came so close to being killed. She was effortlessly smooth and interacted with people as if she didn¡¯t have a care in the world.


    And she definitely wasn¡¯t any nicer to me. If anything, she was even more caustic than usual. Which, I supposed made a certain sort of sense if she knew it was my family who had nearly had her killed. That had to be why she hated me so much, didn¡¯t it? She knew something about my family, something that made them want her dead. That had to be connected to why she¡¯d been so intent on attacking me every chance she got. Because Tomas had been right, last night when she didn¡¯t know who I was, she was a lot more tolerable. So that had to be related.


    Except she¡¯d very clearly hated me for years. And I was pretty sure my family hadn¡¯t wanted her dead for that long. So what happened? Did she just get the proof she needed? How? What was it? And how did she know about my family in the first place? Hell, was her hating me even directly connected to that? It seemed like it had to be, but what could she have found out all the way back in middle school? Also, how was she immune to Mr. Jackson¡¯s power?


    And while we were on that subject, had he ever used it on me? The fact that my parents had someone who could erase people¡¯s memories made it somewhat easier to understand how they got away with as much as they did. But how many of my memories had been erased or changed? Had I found out the truth about them before and they just erased it? The thought had led me to throwing up in the bathroom the night before.


    Clearly, making sure they didn¡¯t find out that I knew the truth was even more important than I¡¯d thought before. I couldn¡¯t give them any reason to think they needed to fix my memory. Not until I had a better handle on this whole thing. Not until I was ready to make a much bigger move.


    The point was, I had a hell of a lot of questions, many of them revolving around Paige Freaking Banners. So yeah, I had probably been staring at her more than I should.


    Flushing a little under Amber¡¯s stare, I shook my head. ¡°No leg breaking.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow at me, the dark-haired girl asked, ¡°You sure? I¡¯d do it pro bono. I mean, I do still owe you for that awesome movie night. And for being a pretty good project partner, I suppose.¡± Adding that part thoughtfully, Amber tossed a tater tot in the air, tilted her head back, and caught it in her mouth.


    ¡°Something tells me that breaking Paige¡¯s legs would probably complicate more things than it solves,¡± I replied dryly. ¡°And I told you before, you don¡¯t owe me anything. It was just a fun night.¡±


    From the grin that abruptly blossomed on the other girl¡¯s face, I realized that I had just walked into some form of trap. ¡°Well, then I suppose the best way for me to pay you back is to give you a fun night, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    As I stared at her, wondering what I had just opened myself up to, she pointed at me. ¡°It¡¯s my seventeenth birthday party this weekend. And you¡¯re going.¡±


    Oh, right. Amber¡®s birthday. She, like most other people in our grade, was almost a year older than me, since I¡¯d skipped first grade. It was another thing that contributed to me always being smaller than everyone else. Not the main thing. I was small regardless. I could probably come to this school in my twenties and still look like a freshman at best. But still.


    Amber was explaining. ¡°My mom and uncle are renting out that place on Lynnwood with the arcade and the batting cages and all that. Saturday night from six until whenever we¡¯re done, we¡¯ve got the whole place to ourselves. There¡¯s gonna be dinner and games and lots of other shit. And plenty of people, including you.¡±


    Declining at this point felt like a bad idea. Besides, I liked Amber. I liked Jae too. With everything that was going on, would it really kill me to take a night off just to help celebrate the girl¡¯s seventeenth birthday?


    While I was working my way through that, Amber continued. ¡°You should bring that girl that¡¯s staying with you, too. Izzy? Arcade games, batting cages, miniature golf, there¡¯s gotta be something she¡¯ll like. Although now that I say it, you probably have all of those things in your house, but still. Maybe she¡¯ll like the fresh air?¡±


    Izzy. Getting her out of the house and letting her have fun did seem like a good idea. And I could tell from the look on Amber¡¯s face that she knew she¡¯d hit the mark. So, I heaved a long, put upon sigh before waving a hand vaguely. ¡°Okay, okay, I get it. I suppose I will just suffer through an entire evening of fun and games if that¡¯ll make you feel better, birthday girl. And I¡¯ll see if Izzy can come.¡±


    Grinning at me, Amber held up another tater tot between two fingers and flicked it my way. After I caught it in my mouth, she glanced past me. ¡°Everything good?¡±


    She was talking to Jae, who took the open seat beside me while nodding once. ¡°Done,¡± she replied quietly, setting her tray of food down. Sticking a fork in her salad, the pale girl added, ¡°Did you ask?¡±


    Amber shrugged. ¡°I just got through the inviting her part. Haven¡¯t gotten to the posters part just yet. I wanted to make sure she wanted to come first.¡±


    Blinking at that, I asked, ¡°Posters part?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°See, my mom wants to do this charity thing. She had the idea to have an artist at the party taking pictures. Then everyone who donates to that children¡¯s hospital that got attacked could get a drawing of themselves with a certain theme. You know, like pirate or ninja or anything like that. The size or the detail of the picture and all that would depend on how much they donate. They can fill out a form saying what they like to see along with a receipt of their donation. She had a guy lined up to do it, but he had to back out at the last minute. I said I knew someone who was a really good artist at school. She can find someone else if you want, but I just thought I¡¯d ask if you¡¯re interested. We can pay you for it, then mail the pictures ourselves once they¡¯re done. ¡°


    Staring at her, I blinked a few times. ¡°Drawing¡­ oh. Oh, umm¡­ I¡­ yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I mean, I hope I can do that. Sure.¡±


    Grinning widely at my agreement, Amber looked to Jae. ¡°See, told you this was gonna be the best party ever.¡±


    Jae, for her part, simply looked over at me, her voice soft. ¡°Is your friend coming?¡±


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    ¡°Friend? Oh, you mean Izzy,¡± I realized. ¡°I¡¯ll ask if she wants to. Thanks for inviting her, you guys. I know you barely know her.¡±


    Amber shrugged. ¡°She seemed pretty cool.


    ¡°And this party needs all the cool people.¡±


    ******


    By the time school let out, I still had no idea what I was going to do about the whole Paige situation. And I had other things to worry about for the evening. Two things in particular, each on opposite sides of the legal line. First, I needed to take those papers down to the courthouse and turn them in before the judge got too antsy. I¡¯d been told that I would generally have a week or two, as the law didn¡¯t exactly move fast anyway, and they knew that a lot of us were busy. But still.


    The other thing I had to do was get that device we¡¯d¡­ borrowed back to the maintenance place so it could be returned to the Seraph hospital before they noticed anything wrong. Wren had apparently finished extracting it and making sure the thing was okay, so I would get it where it needed to be tonight.


    That was for later, of course. Once things all closed down, I would worry about that. For the moment, the courthouse was the number one priority.


    Well, the number one priority after I visited Wren, at least. But that was related to the court house anyway. I had to take some of those papers over to her, as the person who was responsible for Ashton being confined inside her base. There were parts she had to sign and fill in under her chosen moniker of Trevithick.


    That didn¡¯t take too long, and I promised to come back and see her again shortly before heading out again. Eventually, I was waiting in costume in front of the back door of an unlabeled, unremarkable building a block or so away from the courthouse. I¡¯d texted That-A-Way for advice and she let me know that this was the way most Star-Touched got into the courthouse without being mobbed or anything by going in the front door. Apparently, there was a tunnel leading to the court from this building that helped keep all that stuff out of public sight.


    A second after I knocked, there was a soft whirring sound  and I saw a small camera in the upper left corner turn a little to focus on me. There was a brief pause, then the sound of a couple electric locks disengaging before the door opened to reveal a man in a police uniform. ¡°Paintball, I assume?¡±


    ¡°In the flesh,¡± I confirmed. Waving the papers in my hand, I added, ¡°I was just hoping to drop off these detention things.¡±


    The cop nodded. ¡°Yeah, they said you¡¯d probably be coming by. Just in case though, could you show me your power so I know I¡¯m not letting in a stranger with your costume?¡±


    Obligingly, I turned and held my hand out, shooting a bit of red paint to a stick on the ground before yanking it back to myself. ¡°Good enough?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± the man confirmed before stepping back and gesturing for me to enter. ¡°I¡¯m Officer Metts. Good to meet you, kid. Pretty sure this won¡¯t be the only time. I get stationed out here a lot.¡±


    Stepping in, I took another look at the man. He was black, and looked to be in his thirties, very well built, with dark hair cut short and hazel eyes. His nose was maybe just a little too big for his face and had been broken at least once, but he was still pretty handsome.


    ¡°Well,¡± I replied, ¡°I¡¯m glad the guy at the door isn¡¯t someone who hates Touched.¡±


    Chuckling, the man nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they figured out a long time ago that having someone who can¡¯t get along with the masked types is a bad idea. Just makes things worse for everybody. Come on, I¡¯ll take you down to the tunnel and let ¡®em know you¡¯re coming.¡±


    We were in what looked like a simple apartment lobby area with stairs leading up, a couple apartment doors to the left, and an unlabeled door to the right. He went to the right and opened the unlabeled door, revealing another room with another set of stairs, these ones leading down, and a couple elevators. We took the stairs, heading, as promised, into the tunnel. It clearly went on a long distance, but the man simply pointed. ¡°There¡¯ll be a guy meeting you at the entrance to the courthouse. Just head that way and you can¡¯t miss him. Unfortunately, I¡¯m not gonna be here when you get off. You¡¯ll have to be let out by one of my coworkers. But don¡¯t worry, none of us bite.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I replied. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll see you next time when I have to come in for those deposition things.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you will,¡± Officer Metts agreed. ¡°Good luck for now, though. And hey, watch your back out there.


    ¡°I hear Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s really pissed off at you.¡±


    *******


    So, I turned in those papers before waiting to have a short chat with the judge. I had to sit around for about half an hour, but that wasn¡¯t a big deal. And it was definitely understandable, considering I didn¡¯t have any kind of appointment. Eventually, the judge had called me up out of the basement room where I had been waiting, and I had a talk with him about what happened with Ashton. He was thorough, but not too prying. He got the information he needed and said he¡¯d make an official ruling after consulting some books, but that I shouldn¡¯t worry.


    Eventually, that was over and I had gone home to have dinner and be visible for a little while. Not to mention hang out with Izzy. I brought up the party thing and both she and my parents were pretty accepting. I had no doubt we¡¯d have escorts we didn¡¯t even know about, but Mom still seemed pretty happy with the idea regardless.


    Izzy, meanwhile, seemed okay with it too. She clearly wanted to get out of the house, big as it was. And I couldn¡¯t blame her for that. So we would definitely be going to the party.


    Of course, for that to happen, it would probably help if I wasn¡¯t a fugitive from the Seraphs. To that end, it was time to return their device. So, I¡¯d let Eits know to add it back into the schedule using the back door he¡¯d built into their system, and he told me what packing label to put on it once I was in there.


    And there I was, crouched on the roof of the building across the street from the Taurus repair facility. It was late enough by now that there was almost no one there. All I had to do was sneak in and drop this off. Eits was standing by to loop their cameras as soon as I gave him the signal, and he¡¯d unloop them once I was out.


    So, here went nothing. Holding the box under one hand, I sent the text his way, waiting for the acknowledgment before shoving the phone in my pocket and taking a running start. Like the last time, I used the nearby billboard and dropped in on top of the smaller building in the middle of the compound. From there, I waited for the guard to pass, then hopped down and made my way to the place we picked this thing up from to begin with.


    Unfortunately, I had to duck back and wait there, because there were a couple guys in work overalls having a discussion about the Pistons (as in the basketball team) right in the doorway. There was some good-natured arguing back-and-forth, as one of the man apparently was more into some other team. Or maybe it was a completely different sport. Honestly, I had no idea.


    Either way, I anxiously waited, knowing the cameras couldn¡¯t be looped for too long. But, finally, the two men left the building, walking together towards the much larger one. Watching them go from my hiding spot, I slipped around the building and in through the door.


    Once inside, I called Eits and had him talk me through printing out the right label with the number on it. It took a couple tries to get right, but finally, I stuck the label on and thanked the boy for his help. ¡°Seriously, no way could I have pulled this off without you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± came the response. ¡°The boss¡¯s kid needed it. And now she¡¯s safe, thanks to you. So we¡¯re good. Maybe we can find another reason to hang out at some point before you have to try to arrest me.¡±


    Snorting, I replied, ¡°Arresting is sort of like hanging out. But we¡¯ll figure it out later. Thanks again, I¡¯ll put this back and then get out of here.¡±


    Disconnecting from the call, I found the spot on the shelves where the box would wait for pick-up in the morning. Satisfied that they would find it, I quickly checked the yard to make sure it was clear before making my way out.


    Great, that was one more thing off my mind. The hospital would get its device back and no one had to be hurt or anything. Now I could focus on the important things, like finding out just what the hell was going on with Paige, how to deal with the fact that my ex-boyfriend¡¯s father worked for my supervillain parents, what Izzy¡¯s whole deal was¡­ yeah, I had plenty to occupy my mind, that was for sure.


    Which, of course, was why I had barely taken two steps after landing in the alley outside of the repair facility when a voice spoke up.


    ¡°I guess a thanks is in order.¡±


    Spinning that way, my gaze found a man in gleaming golden armor, with metal wings and an enormous sword bigger than he was resting against the ground with his hand set casually on the pommel.


    It was Hallowed, one of the local Seraph leadership and also one of the most powerful Touched in the city.


    ¡°After all, you returned our item without us having to go track it down ourselves,¡± the tall man continued casually.


    ¡°Though I do think it¡¯s time that the two of us had a little chat about borrowing things that don¡¯t belong to you.¡±

 Friends And Enemies 8-10

    Okay, so this was a nightmare. Great, just great. After everything, all the things we had gone through to keep this a secret, it turned out that the Seraphs actually knew that we had taken their device.


    Whose bright idea was it to put competent people in these organizations? It was pretty annoying when it worked against me, I could say that much.


    For a few long seconds, I said nothing. What could I say? I just sort of stood there staring at the man while my brain ran the television test pattern. I think I may have even made a strange humming sound out loud to go with it.


    Hallowed, meanwhile, didn¡¯t say anything either. He seemed content to simply watch me for the moment. My brain did run through a quick thought of what he was capable of if it happened to come down to it. From what I knew, he basically infused objects he held or touched with power that made them stronger, tougher, sharper, that kind of thing.


    Additionally, his very presence gradually empowered an area around him that made him stronger, faster, more all-around capable the longer he spent in it. The effect extended to a lesser degree to his allies and gradually hindered his enemies. In areas he spent a lot of time in, the effect lingered even when he wasn¡¯t there. It would fade gradually if he didn¡¯t return, but from what I understood, in the Seraph base here in Detroit the effect was strong enough that he was basically invincible there.


    So if we ended up having to fight, the solution was to get the hell away from him. Real good, Cassidy. You had to stretch far for that plan. Run away. Excellent. Five stars. Panicky stars running in circles.


    Finally, I managed a weak, ¡°I suppose saying I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about would be a bad idea.¡±


    I heard a slight chuckle in the man¡¯s voice as he replied, ¡°Well, it probably wouldn¡¯t get you very far. But the thing you should notice is that I¡¯m talking to you right now, not doing anything more drastic.¡±


    Despite myself, I gave him an actual thumbs up. ¡°And don¡¯t think I don¡¯t appreciate that talking bit. That¡¯s much better than attacking. I¡¯ve had enough fighting lately to last me for a while.¡±


    His head cocked to the side a little in what looked like curiosity, but he let that pass with a quiet, ¡°Hmm.¡± Then he picked up his sword and sheathed it on his back. ¡°Like I said, we need to have a chat, but that¡¯s it, a chat. I want to talk to you about what happened and why you did what you did. I¡¯ve got my own suspicions, and most of them are why we¡¯re talking instead of anything more drastic. From what I¡¯ve seen and heard, you seem to be a pretty good kid. So let¡¯s talk about it.¡±


    Considering my options for a fraction of a second, I ended up nodding. ¡°Do you mind going up onto the roof where we have more privacy? I¡¯m just more comfortable on roofs these days.¡±


    ¡°I can imagine,¡± the man replied before glancing up to the nearby roof. Nodding, he crouched a bit before leaping a good fifteen feet straight up. His foot caught the edge of one wall and he kicked off toward the opposite one, kicking up from there to reach nearly the top of the roof before one more jump got him there.


    Briefly, I wondered if him going straight up there was his way of saying that he trusted me to follow, or that he knew I wouldn¡¯t get away if I tried. Maybe both.


    Either way, I extended a hand and used red paint to yank myself up after him. Once we were both on the roof, I glanced around before sighing. ¡°So, how long did you know about it for?¡±


    His response was a simple, ¡°Basically from the beginning. At least, if you define the beginning as when you broke into the Taurus facility. Let¡¯s just say one of our security people happened to notice something getting a maintenance check that didn¡¯t need it yet. So we sent a guy to watch the facility and he saw you come out with your partner in¡­ crime, sort of? Let¡¯s just say he was a little confused when he saw you with one of Blackjack¡¯s people. Asked if he should make an appearance, but I told him to hold off until we had more info. Because the last time I checked, you weren¡¯t part of that group.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I replied. ¡°It was¨C¡±


    ¡°A complicated situation,¡± he cut in. ¡°I kind of guessed that. Which is why we waited a bit to see what happened. I¡¯ve got to tell you, it was pretty close for a while. Our group was going back and forth on whether we should confront you or not, but every time you appeared in public, you were doing good things. Hell, we saw you going around buying sandwiches and stuff for homeless people. Made us wonder if that was all an act, but none of what you were doing had anything to do with that thing you stole. And La Casa didn¡¯t seem to be using it either. Then one of our people went through the system for a seventh or eighth time and found out that your little friend left a backdoor, and even had a delivery notice set up to send the equipment back to our facility. The only thing missing was a date. Which meant that you were planning on returning it. That¡¯s what made us decide to give you more time. Part of that was curiosity. We wanted to see what you were using it for. Some of our people had their own ideas, but we were all curious. Curious enough to wait and see. Lo and behold, we eventually heard what happened with that guy who stole from Blackjack. We also heard that something seemed to be controlling his movements. As you might imagine, the pieces fell into place fairly quickly then.¡±


    Biting my lip behind the helmet and mask, I slowly asked, ¡°So you worked all that out just from watching and hearing about things? You guys are really good at your jobs, you know?¡±


    There was a smile in the man¡¯s voice as he replied, ¡°That¡¯s why we have the job. Also, because we know when to back off and see what happens instead of jumping to a confrontation. That helps too. Which is what brings you and I here right now.¡±


    For a moment, I just looked at him. Then I exhaled and spoke carefully. ¡°Right, you definitely figured out why we had to borrow it, and didn¡¯t drop the hammer. I guess this is where I say thanks for not busting us? And sorry for taking your thing, even if it was only for a little while.¡±


    ¡°I am curious about why you didn¡¯t just ask for it,¡± the man noted, ¡°but I suppose you have your reasons. You had help from La Casa because you were doing all that for Blackjack¡¯s kid. I get that, sort of. But does that mean you and them are partners now or something?¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Not partners. We were just¡­ it¡¯s complicated. But¡­ mostly I just wanted to stop the war before it got a lot of innocent people hurt. All the gangs were going to rip the city apart looking for those vials, no matter who got in the way. And whatever kind of bad guy Blackjack is, his daughter didn¡¯t deserve to die. I was helping him for her, not him.¡±


    Listening as I said all of that, Hallowed gave a thoughtful nod before speaking. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s essentially the same reasoning we came up with, particularly considering your age. I mean, no offense, it¡¯s just easier to believe that a¡­ someone young would compromise like that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just doing the best thing in a bad situation,¡± I muttered before folding my arms a bit uncomfortably. ¡°So, what now? I mean, you already decided to let us borrow the thing and now you have it back. Or you will as soon as it gets delivered. So, what are we doing? I don¡¯t think you showed up like this just to be like, ¡®neener neener, we knew you had it all along, so there.¡¯ Something tells me you¡¯re not the type. So, like I said, what are we doing right now?¡±


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    ¡°Right now?¡± he echoed casually. ¡°Right now, we¡¯re having a little chat while I decide what kind of person you are. Then, we¡¯re going to talk about how you pay for borrowing our equipment.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow despite myself, not that he could see it. ¡°I thought you just said you knew why we needed it, and you let it happen. You even have it back now. We returned it.¡±


    Hallowed¡¯s head bobbed once. ¡°Right on all counts. We did decide to let you keep it without throwing you to the wolves. And we do know why it was important. And it¡¯s pretty much back in our custody. Which is a good thing, let me tell you. But this world runs on trade and negotiation. Especially between people like you and me. Things can¡¯t always be free, or the whole system completely falls apart. You did a very good thing, but you also did something bad in order to achieve it. We¡¯re not turning you in. We¡¯re definitely not going to charge you what that thing is worth, even for a short rental period. You couldn¡¯t afford it. What we are going to do is ask for a favor.¡±


    Slowly, I replied, ¡°What is it with Touched and favors? The favor thing keeps coming up.¡±


    He actually chuckled a little bit. ¡°True, you¡¯ll have that happen a lot. Turns out that a lot of people with powers end up needing specific acts or bits of help here and there more than they need money. Even the Sell-Touched, a lot of the time. See, we can get money from plenty of places. But powers are a limited resource, not to mention the skill to use them. So, being Touched, you¡¯re going to find that most people want you to do something for them, not give them money. You¡¯re also going to find that when the opportunity comes to secure such a favor, most won¡¯t let it go. Not even if they¡¯re definitely not holding a grudge and completely understand why you did what you did.¡±


    Considering that for a moment, I shrugged. ¡°So, what you¡¯re saying is that this is basically really gentle blackmail. You know something bad I did and you¡¯re going to want something in exchange for letting that go.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying some people will flat out blackmail you,¡± the man replied. ¡°But I¡¯m also saying that I don¡¯t think we need to go that far. I think you¡¯re a good kid who did the best he could. And I think you already want to make up for that. I think you already felt a little guilty about what happened. So, I¡¯m going to give you the chance to make everything even. Hell, you might even get something out of it. Contacts if nothing else. We need your help with something, and if you work with us, you¡¯ll never hear about the¡­ borrowed equipment again. Call it a fair exchange.¡±


    A few things immediately leapt to mind that I wanted to say, but the truth was that he had a point. They didn¡¯t have to let me get away with what amounted to temporarily stealing their very expensive item, no matter what my intentions had been. I¡¯d done it for a good reason, but in an underhanded way. It was a very slippery slope, and he was giving me a chance to pay for borrowing it without making anything worse. Whether you called it a fair exchange or gentle blackmail, the result was the same. I could pay them back for the¡­ rental, and have a clear conscience.


    While I was working through all that in my head, the man waited patiently. He didn¡¯t seem to be in any kind of rush, simply standing there watching me with an air of curiosity. Finally, I straightened and gave a short nod. ¡°I won¡¯t say I¡¯ll do anything you ask, but I think it¡¯s fair that we work something out.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Hallowed replied. He sounded genuine. ¡°We have some ideas in mind, but why don¡¯t you come in next week and we¡¯ll see what we can set up. Let¡¯s call it¡­ next Wednesday evening, around this time?¡±


    ¡°Come in?¡± I echoed. ¡°As in come to the Seraph base?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°No need to try to be sneaky about it. The guard at the front will let you in. Unless, of course, you want to try your hand at getting past our security. That might be fun. And it could give our guards a little exercise to keep them on their toes.¡±


    I coughed. ¡°You know, I think I¡¯ll probably just use the front gate.¡±


    With a vague and wave of agreement, the man replied, ¡°Well, if you change your mind, it could be interesting. Either way, show up Wednesday night. Or, if you run into something that keeps you busy, call this number.¡± His hand produced a card that he extended toward me. ¡°Let whoever answers know who you are and that you¡¯ll be delayed, or whatever. Sound good?¡±


    I agreed, of course. What else was I going to do? Taking the card, I tucked it away. After that, there didn¡¯t seem to be much else to say. So, I thanked the man for not being drastic about things before turning to hop off the roof, using a shot of paint to pull myself to the next one. A lot of thoughts were running through my head.


    Boy, I sure hope Hallowed and Deicide don¡¯t call in their favors at the same time for opposite reasons.


    That could get awkward.


    ********


    Needless to say, I went home after that, before anything else could happen. I needed a break. And I needed time to think about everything that had just happened. Was I going to tell Eits about it? He should probably know that the Seraphs were able to find the stuff he did to the computers, just in case. But I also didn¡¯t want him to worry too much about it.


    Either way, I made my way close to home, changed out of my costume in the nearby park restroom, then took a short walk (about fifteen minutes or so) to get back to the house. I didn¡¯t use my powers or anything. The walk gave me a chance to think.


    Eventually, I made it to the fence and waited there for the security camera to point another direction. Just as I was about to hop onto the grounds, the gate nearby opened. Quickly ducking back into the bushes on the other side, I watched as one of my mother¡¯s cars started to pull through. She was driving, and there was a man in the passenger seat. It was Mr. Jackson. The car stopped there partway through the gate and I could see them talking.


    Great, I had paint that could silence people. Why didn¡¯t I have paint that could let me hear what they were saying from far away. That would be super useful right now.


    Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, I glanced to the top of the fence and used a bit of blue to launch myself up and over, landing silently on the grass right below another camera. Then I painted myself black, all of my clothes, my face, everything. Waiting for the camera to turn again, I quickly and silently moved along the fence until I reached the corner of the gate near the car. There were bushes there that would cover me from the cameras. This was all a big risk, but I needed to hear what they were saying. I had to know if they were talking about me, or about Paige.


    As I pressed my back to the fence and stayed low, the sound of my mother¡¯s voice reached me. ¡°Leave her alone for now. It¡¯s too much of a risk. Until we have our experts ensure no more copies of her files exist, we can¡¯t move on the Banners girl.¡±


    Right, okay, good. So Paige¡¯s plan was actually working. Whatever evidence she had over my family¡¯s organization, it was too much for them to risk it getting out. I still had no idea what it was or what the other girl knew, unfortunately. That was going to take a lot to get out of her. But I could at least relax a little bit with the assurance that they weren¡¯t going to be jumping her any time soon. It gave me a little breathing room that I desperately needed. Especially if I was supposed to somehow make Paige confide in me.


    Mr. Jackson was talking. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Elena. Everything was under control until the boy showed up.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± my mother agreed slowly, ¡°this¡­ Paintball has complicated things now and then. He is a bit of a concern, but we don¡¯t believe he knows that much. It¡¯s very possible the Banners girl reached out to him for help and he noticed your men abducting her. Which may mean that he knows more about you than he should. Keep your eyes open, and if the opportunity arises to find out exactly how much he knows¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± Mr. Jackson confirmed. ¡°Thank you for understanding, Elena.¡±


    My mother gave a soft chuckle. ¡°Of course, Kent. There¡¯s far too much history between us for one problem to drive a wedge through our relationship. We will handle it, as we always do.¡±


    The car started to pull out then, their conversation apparently over for the moment. The last thing I heard was one last sentence from my mother, as the vehicle pulled away.


    ¡°After you erased such a traumatic memory from Cassidy¡¯s mind, the least we can do is forgive the occasional misstep.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 3

    Standing outside his daughter¡¯s private hospital room in their own home, Blackjack¡­ or rather, Eric Abbot as he was known to those close to him, put a hand on the door and looked through the window. He stared at the little girl in the bed as she wrote intently in the notebook propped up against her knees. Several stuffed animals were gathered along the side of the bed as though listening while she dictated what she was writing. Her story was accompanied by grand gestures that kept interrupting her own writing. Once she apparently wrote something that she found so amusing she actually started laughing, the sound carrying through the door. It was a sight that made Eric smile, while a long, heavy shudder ran through him at the brief thought of what could have been.


    For so long now, he had been terrified that his beautiful, amazing little girl would never grow up, that she would never be able to see all the things he wanted so desperately to show her. Every day when he saw how wonderful, brilliant, and effortlessly charming his child was, Eric despaired of what would happen to her without the medicine she needed. It had driven him to greater and greater heights of anger and frustration. But he never let her see it. He would not scare his little girl like that. Not when there was already so much for her to be afraid of.


    But she knew. She always knew just how upset he was. And often, it had seemed as though she was taking care of him more than the other way around. She was so strong, so brave. Disease be damned, she was one of the most amazing people he knew. Yes, he was biased. But she truly was remarkable, to handle all of this as well as she did. It inspired him more than he could ever articulate. His daughter was his everything, and if the worst had happened, if he had truly lost her¡­


    Stepping into the room, the man looked to the two doctors who were working in the corner. Greeting them by name briefly, he asked the pair to step outside for a few minutes. Only once they were gone and he had locked the door, did Eric let his guard down a little bit and allow himself to let go of some of the rigid control with which he held himself. He felt his eyes grow a little wet as he stepped over and spoke up. ¡°Hey, Smelly,¡± he greeted his daughter, a teasing nickname that was a combination of Small and Melly (for Melissa)


    ¡°Hi, Daddy!¡± Melissa piped up, looking at him eagerly. Every day, Eric was amazed and humbled by his daughter¡¯s resilience and ability to cope with this terrible situation. Sometimes it seemed as though she had been in the hospital forever, trapped in this room with her brittle bones. Bones that would have snapped from very little pressure. Bones that, without Worthy¡¯s medicine, would have rotted away and disintegrated into a poison that would kill her.


    They¡¯d stopped the disease from getting worse for quite a while, but they still couldn¡¯t push things. Her bones were so fragile, and would continue being fragile until further into the treatment, that there was no way to let her live a normal life right now. They couldn¡¯t risk allowing Melissa to run outside, play with others, or do¡­ anything a little girl should have been able to do. She escaped through her writing into worlds of grand adventure and dashing heroes. In her stories, she could be anything, do anything. She could create universes worth of excitement that made her long days and nights spent in that single bed more tolerable.


    Sitting down on the chair that he pulled closer, Eric picked up the girl¡¯s newest stuffed animal, the pink crocodile with the cloth skateboard attached to its feet that Sterling and Elena (or Uncle Stan and Aunt Ellen, as she knew them) had convinced her to name after their own daughter, Cassidy.


    For a moment, he just turned the toy over in his hands, staring down at it while his fingers shook. He had to take a breath and steady himself. It was so strange. He could order men to their death, could look someone like Cu¨¦lebre right in the eyes without flinching. He could stand down any threat. But the emotions he felt as he sat here with his daughter could be his undoing. He felt a shudder run through him once more as his eyes closed and a few more tears fell.


    ¡°Daddy.¡± There was a small hand on his arm, and Eric opened his eyes to see that his daughter had shuffled over a bit to be next to him. She was staring at him with a wide, understanding gaze that seemed far more wise than her tender years. ¡°If I have to stay sick, it¡¯s okay. Please don¡¯t be sad. I don¡¯t want you to be sad.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t speak. He couldn¡¯t even swallow past the hard lump that formed in his throat. Rising from his own chair, the man moved over and sat on the bed, gathering the girl up into his lap and hugging her gently to his chest. ¡°My girl,¡± he murmured in a voice filled with wonder and amazement at the simple truth of that statement. ¡°You¡¯re my baby girl. My brave little girl.¡±


    Kissing the top of her head tenderly, Eric finally shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not sad, Smelly Melly. I¡¯m not sad at all. I¡¯m happy.¡± Swallowing, he added, ¡°I¡¯m happier than I¡¯ve been for a long time.¡±


    Leaning her head back, Melissa gently poked at his face, her expression curious. ¡°But you¡¯re crying, Daddy. You aren¡¯t supposed to cry when you¡¯re happy. Did you get broken?¡±


    The question made him chuckle a little despite himself, and the man nodded once. ¡°Maybe I did get a little broken. But you won¡¯t be. You¨C¡± Once more, the words caught in his throat, and he had to give a light chuckle of bafflement at the absurdity of his emotions. Maybe Melissa was right, maybe he really was broken. The years of being terrified for his daughter¡¯s life, of working so hard to keep her safe from this horrific disease, had taken its toll. Especially the past few weeks, as he dealt with the mounting desperation and panic at the possibility of losing her for real.


    ¡°Baby, we found it,¡± he finally managed. His hand gently touched her face, fingers tenderly brushing along the girl¡¯s cheek. ¡°We found your medicine. We found all of it. You¡¯re going to be okay. We¡¯ve got your medicine here, right here in the house. Where it should have been the whole time. We¡¯ve got all of it, Smelly. Every last bit.¡± With each word, his voice cracked with a bit more emotion, while he watched the expression on his daughter¡¯s face.


    She was staring wide-eyed at him. Her mouth opened and shut a couple times before she managed a weak, ¡°So I can get better?¡± Her voice was tentative, making it clear how hesitant she was to express even that much hope. Which he could hardly blame her for after everything that had happened. ¡°Really better?¡±


    His head gave a short, jerky nod as a small, emotional laugh escaped him. It was a laugh born not of amusement, but of uncontained emotion that had to escape in that moment. ¡°Yes, baby girl. Yes, you¡¯re going to be okay. You¡¯re going to have your medicine and you¡¯ll get better just like Dr. Worthy said. You¡¯re going to be just fine. You¡¯re going to be safe. You¡¯re gonna be strong, and you¡¯re gonna grow up, and¡­ and you¡¯ll be okay.¡±


    Once the last word escaped him, Eric found himself unable to say anything else. The tears had started in earnest as soon as he saw them appear in his daughter¡¯s eyes. He pulled her closer and the two hugged, father and daughter clinging to one another against the storm of emotion that swept through each of them.


    It took both a few minutes to collect themselves enough to speak again. Once he could finally find his voice, Eric leaned back and smiled at his daughter a bit shakily. ¡°See, maybe you¡¯re broken too.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be broken if I can stay with you, Daddy,¡± Melissa informed him. Which was enough to make the man lose himself in another tight embrace with the beautiful, amazing little girl who made everything he had ever done in his life worth it just to be there with her. Nothing else in the world mattered. Nothing. Just being right there with her.


    ¡°No, sweet thing,¡± the man finally managed. ¡°You won¡¯t be broken. You¡¯ll be amazing. You¡¯ll be a writer, a real writer. You¡¯ll travel and see all the amazing things you¡¯ve ever wanted to see. You¡¯ll do everything you want to do, because you¡¯re going to be okay. You¡¯re going to be fine, my baby girl.¡±


    The two of them sat together like that for another minute before Melissa sniffed once and quietly announced, ¡°I miss Dr. Worthy, Daddy.¡± Her voice was hesitant, and she glanced up guiltily, as though she felt bad about bringing up a sad moment right then, at a time in which they were supposed to be happy.


    Eric, however, gave a short nod. ¡°I know, baby. I miss him too. I sure wish he could be here right now. I wish he could see just how much you¡¯re going to grow up. But you know what we have to do to make up for him being gone?¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The girl¡¯s head shook slowly. ¡°Nuh uh. What, Daddy?¡± Even as she said the words, she clung to him a little tighter, needing the reassurance of his physical presence to prove to herself that she wasn¡¯t dreaming.


    ¡°Live,¡± Eric informed her with a little poke to her nose that made the girl giggle. ¡°You make Dr. Worthy¡¯s work worth it by living the biggest, best life you can, okay, Smelly? You were the last big thing he worked on. So when you¡¯re better, you¡¯re gonna go out there and be whatever you want to be. You¡¯re gonna live. That¡¯s what you can do for Dr. Worthy. You¡¯ll be out there telling your stories to everyone in the world.¡±


    ¡°Can I tell you a story right now, Daddy?¡± she asked quickly, reaching out to pick up the nearest notebook, which he could see was filled with her neat, careful handwriting. ¡°I made up a new one last night.¡±


    ¡°Of course, you know I love your stories,¡± he assured her before settling up against the headboard of the bed. Letting his daughter adjust herself until she was comfortably resting against him, the man put an arm around her and listened while she began to read her newest story. Maybe it would have been strange to some people that she was the one who read him a story rather than the other way around. But he didn¡¯t care. This was what his girl wanted.


    Fairly soon, it was clear that all the excitement had worn her out, and he could hear the mounting tiredness in her voice as she pushed on to get through the story. Eventually, he held the notebook and turned the pages for her while she laid back against his chest and simply read the words. Even that eventually trailed off into more and more silence between the words as her eyes would close for a few seconds, open again to read the first few words her gaze found, then close once more.


    Then she was asleep. For a while, Eric simply sat there with her, tenderly stroking the girl¡¯s hair as he whispered soothing words to ensure she knew, even in her unconscious state, that she was safe and that he would never let anything bad happen. The thought of losing her, of being so helpless to protect his little girl¡­


    Realizing he needed to get up before he ended up waking Melissa, Eric very carefully extracted himself and straightened. He took a moment to gently lay her on the pillow and put the blanket over her before standing up. It was okay, he had to remind himself. She was safe and she was going to stay that way.


    Quietly ordering the computer to lower the lighting, he walked out of the room. Closing the door behind him, the man was met by a friend that he¡¯d known for exactly as long as he had known Samuel Worthy. Elarc Sorn, the former mercenary for Braintrust who had been convinced in that meeting three years earlier to switch sides, stood with a cell phone in one hand.


    ¡°Reports are in,¡± he informed his boss after having waited patiently for him to be ready. ¡°We lost a few people. Six dead, another eight arrested at the scenes. About thirty or forty thousand dollars worth of damages to a couple of our sites. Don¡¯t have to reclaim anything cuz they backed off as soon as word got out that the vials were off the market.¡±


    ¡°They were a distraction-force,¡± Eric replied flatly. ¡°They never intended to hold our territory, only do enough damage to force us to split our resources to handle it. And to sow discord among our people if I didn¡¯t address the situation properly, make them see me putting them in danger to protect my own daughter.¡±


    Sorn nodded once. ¡°That does seem to have been the goal, sir. But they didn¡¯t do nearly as much damage as they could have.¡±


    ¡°They did enough,¡± Eric informed him. ¡°We¡¯ll respond in kind.¡± As he spoke, the man reached for the phone in his jacket pocket. Instead, he found something else. The skateboarding pink crocodile. Somehow, the stuffed toy had ended up in his pocket. Probably courtesy of his daughter wanting to share something with him. For a moment, he gazed at the creature. Cassidy. Cassidy the Crocodile.


    Somehow, his thoughts turned to the boy who had been so responsible for making this night possible. Paintball. Whoever the boy was under that mask, he was very clearly going to be important going forward. Important not only to Eric and his people, but others as well. There was more going on there, Eric knew. While his power wasn¡¯t telling him exactly what, he knew there was something big just lurking under the surface. Something tantalizingly close.


    Exhaling, he absently put the toy away while looking back to his subordinate. ¡°For now, let people recover. They¡¯ve all done enough. Make sure compensation goes to the families of those we lost, and get our legal representation for the ones who were picked up. I want them out as soon as possible, and I want them eager to jump back into things. We need everyone we can get.¡±


    Walking down the hall, he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. ¡°Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners think the war is over.


    ¡°But it¡¯s just beginning.¡±


    *******


    The front doors of the Evans mansion closed behind Izzy, Damarko, Amber, and Jae as the four of them walked out together after watching the movie in that giant home theater. No one said anything until they reached Damarko¡¯s car. Then Amber turned, glanced around briefly, before taking a knee and embracing Izzy. ¡°How¡¯re you really doing?¡±


    Izzy¡¯s eyes closed, as she told herself not to stiffen up, and definitely not to push Amber away. She knew the other girl meant well. She was trying to help, trying to make her feel safer. But being touched like that, it just¡­ she wasn¡¯t sure how she felt about it. Not after¡­


    Shaking that off, she gave a quick squeeze in return before stepping back in a way that she hoped wouldn¡¯t make Amber feel bad or anything. There was a lump in her throat as she spoke with a quiet, ¡°I could be a lot worse.¡±


    ¡°A lot worse as in, ¡®could be enslaved by some Fell-Gang assholes?¡¯¡± Damarko asked, ¡°Or a lot worse as in, ¡®could have to stay somewhere other than the biggest house in the whole city?¡¯¡± Without looking, he caught the elbow that Amber tried to shove at him before adding, ¡°She knows I¡¯m just trying to lighten the mood.¡± Pausing then, he added, ¡°You do know that, right?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± Izzy confirmed, glancing to Jae. ¡°You¡¯re really different like this, you know?¡±


    It was like a switch had been flipped. The quiet, demure and barely responsive Jae straightened, raised her head, and smiled. At one point, Izzy had seen the old Superman movies with Christopher Reeve, and the way Jae switched from the persona she put on in public to the way she was now or as Carousel reminded her of him going between Clark Kent and Superman in the same scene. It was that much of an immediate and thorough switch.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not be the same,¡± the Albino Asian girl replied, ¡°in case the flame of my fame puts my name to acclaim and this dame is fair game to shame, claim, or maim.¡±


    ¡°In other words, she¡¯d rather be really different between her civvie self and her Touched self so no one recognizes her and causes problems. And see, I told you guys she holds all of that in at school and can¡¯t help blurting out the rhymes as soon as she gets a chance,¡± Amber noted before focusing on Izzy. ¡°So, you¡¯re really okay right now? What¡¯s¡­ umm¡­ you know, what¡¯s it like living here?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s Cassidy like, she means,¡± Damarko put in. ¡°Is she this really spoiled rich girl in private? Does she like, have servants bring her towers of ice cream the size of your head?¡± He blinked at Amber and Jae. ¡°What? I¡¯m not blaming her. I would totally do that if my family owned half the city.¡±


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t notice,¡± Izzy quickly piped up. She waited until they were looking at her, then shrugged. ¡°Cassidy. She doesn¡¯t notice that she¡¯s rich. Not really. Not¡­ like¡­ like that. It¡¯s like¡­ her family having so much money is like most people having legs.¡±


    Amber frowned. ¡°Uh¡­ what?¡±


    Trying to put her thoughts (she¡¯d had them over the past couple days all jumbled up) into some kind of order, Izzy carefully explained, ¡°I mean, a umm¡­ a normal person with working legs, right? They walk around all day, and if they see someone who can¡¯t walk, they feel bad for them and maybe think about how they might be able to help. Or they feel like¡­ how much better they have it. But most of the time, they don¡¯t really think about it. They don¡¯t think about how good their legs are when they get up and walk to the kitchen. That¡¯s what Cassidy is like with money. She¡¯s not bad because she doesn¡¯t think about how rich she is. When she sees someone without money, she tries to help them. But most of the time, she¡¯s just¡­ a person with working legs. She has money, it doesn¡¯t¡­ register, or whatever unless it¡¯s really pointed out. Someone with legs isn¡¯t bad just because they don¡¯t think about how useful that is most of the time. It¡¯s just their life. Having so much money is her life.¡±


    ¡°Do you like her?¡± That was Damarko, getting straight to the point. ¡°I mean, do you think she¡¯s cool?¡±


    For a brief moment, Izzy considered the question. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know her very much,¡± she carefully answered. ¡°I know she¡¯s keeping secrets. I think she might have a boyfriend or something that she doesn¡¯t want her mom and dad to know about. But¡­ yeah. Yeah, she¡¯s pretty cool. And she¡¯s funny. I¡­ she¡¯s not anything like how I expected the Evans¡¯ daughter to be.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you can say that again,¡± Amber agreed with a snort. ¡°But seriously, we knew she was cool. Good project partner anyway, and that absolutely translates into other things. So if shit goes down out here, she will totally have your back.¡±


    Blinking, Izzy carefully pointed out, ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ think she¡¯d be able to help very much if any bad guys showed up. And hey, you guys never said you were friends with the richest girl in town.¡±


    ¡°I meant have your back as in she¡¯d stand behind you,¡± came the grinning retort. ¡°Which is the safest place to be, cuz you¡¯re Izzy God Damn Amor.¡± With a wink, Amber added, ¡°And we weren¡¯t really that close until Mr. Dorn teamed us up for that school thing a few weeks ago.¡± She hesitated as though considering something about that before shaking it off. ¡°Anyway, enough about Cassie. While we¡¯re here, there¡¯s something else we should talk about.


    ¡°Paintball. What¡¯s that guy¡¯s deal?¡±

 Interlude 8 - Paige

    Leaving Paintball waiting outside, the girl known as Paige Banners walked into the internet cafe. The distracted clerk idly muttered what the cost per hour was, and Paige produced a folded twenty dollar bill on her way past, leaving it on the counter while the clerk took it and told her which computer to use. All without looking up from the phone she was busy texting on.


    Pulling the seat out, the girl perched on the edge of it, hands finding the keyboard and mouse. She clicked a couple times to bring up the cafe¡¯s internet services, fingers dancing across the keys as she disabled their site limitations and the monitoring service that would allow them to track what she was doing. Logging in as an administrator after a couple of attempts, she brought up the control screen for the cameras in the cafe and set them to erase everything from five minutes before she arrived to roughly ten minutes from the current time. That would be enough to ensure that the Ministry couldn¡¯t get anything useful from watching what she did.


    And it was incredibly important that they not see the things she was doing. As far as the Ministry was concerned, Paige Banners was an ordinary teenage girl who happened to have tripped over information she shouldn¡¯t have. It was important that they keep believing that.


    Once she was convinced that the cameras were taken care of, the girl navigated to a private and incredibly secure cloud server that had been set up much earlier. Then Paige paused. Casually, she turned slightly to let her gaze pass over the room. The cameras were no longer a problem, but the need for being careful was practically hard-wired into her by that  point. She took that moment to make sure no one was paying attention, eyes scanning the room while she produced the small USB drive from its hiding place and inserted it into the computer.


    The files were there. Taking only a second to assure herself that everything seemed to be intact, Paige set them to copy onto the cloud server. From there, the service itself would automatically copy them onto a dozen other servers, some equally private and some known to the public. The services all had their own redundancies and security, which included checking on the status of their companion clouds every few minutes. If anything went wrong with one service, Paige would be alerted. From there, several possible events could happen depending on what she did, what exactly was wrong with the suspect cloud server, and whether or not she responded.


    Paintball was busy dealing with people who wanted autographs. Watching that for a moment while the files uploaded, Paige waited for the confirmation beep. Then she tugged the USB out, returned it to its hiding place, and quickly typed up a note for the Star-Touched waiting outside. At the last moment, she used her administrator access into the building¡¯s security to disable the alarm on the back door, quit out of everything save for the note she¡¯d left, and pushed up from the chair. With one last glance to make sure Paintball wasn¡¯t looking, Paige moved through the room, passing a few other people on the way. No one looked up, assuming, if they noticed her at all, that she was going to the restroom. But she moved straight past, heading quietly through the back door into the alley. It was dark, and she immediately pivoted to the right, heading to the exit and onto another street before turning left to move away from the building.


    She didn¡¯t go far, at least right away. First, Paige had to make sure Paintball wouldn¡¯t easily find her if he chose to try. He was awesome, and even if he hadn¡¯t exactly saved her life (maybe¡­ probably), he had made it so that Paige didn¡¯t have to expose more of her secrets. And that was important. The Ministry could not find out what was really going on with her. That was beyond vital. They couldn¡¯t even suspect she might be more than they thought, or find the link back to¡­


    The point was, the more clueless they were, the better. And to make sure they stayed as clueless as possible, Paige was going to make them think that all she wanted was to be left alone. They wouldn¡¯t totally abandon their efforts to silence her, she knew. Being caught in the first place had been a mistake that she was going to have to scramble to make up for. But if she could make them believe that she wouldn¡¯t go to the authorities unless they forced her hand, they would at least turn to more subtle routes of getting what they wanted. That would give her time, and time was important right then. Part of that whole ¡®making them think she wasn¡¯t going to push further on this¡¯ involved keeping Paintball out of anything else. Having a superhero hanging around wasn¡¯t exactly conducive to making a bunch of supervillains think you were going to leave them alone.


    So, instead of continuing down the street where the boy could possibly spot her, she turned almost immediately to step into a nearby Chinese restaurant. Smiling politely at the nice woman by the front, Paige asked, ¡°X¨« sh¨¯u ji¨¡n z¨¤i nar?¡± In response to the question of where the toilet was, the restaurant host turned to point toward the back of the restaurant, and Paige quickly thanked her with a nod before walking on through.


    Moving through the room full of people, she kept her eyes out before finally spotting something useful about three-quarters of the way. Slowing by a table with a group of teenage boys, she put on a bright, somewhat embarrassed smile before speaking up. ¡°Um, sorry, excuse me?¡±


    She was attractive enough that none of the boys minded the interruption. Paige waited for them to give her the brief once-over that every interested person did before pushing on. ¡°Hi, sorry, again. This is kinda dumb, but umm¡­ I¡¯m sort of on a scavenger hunt with my idiot¡­ idiot friends right now, and the next thing on my list is a used jacket for any sports team that is not in Michigan. Like that.¡± She pointed to the New York Jets coat draped over one boy¡¯s chair. ¡°And I know, this is stupid and everything. But I swear, I really have to beat Tina this time. So if I could just get that jacket, you can have this.¡± With one hand, she held up two hundred dollar bills. ¡°That should cover getting a new one, shipping, everything.¡±


    Thankfully, the jacket apparently wasn¡¯t some important keepsake, because the boy readily agreed to trading it for the two hundred dollars she¡¯d offered. And two minutes later, Paige emerged from the restaurant, flipping the hood of the jacket up over her head before continuing down the street. She saw no sign of Paintball, or anyone else watching her. But the jacket wasn¡¯t just for staying out of the Star-Touched hero¡¯s sight. There was more than one reason to want a disguise right now. The Ministry wouldn¡¯t give up that easily, until they knew it was too late. She had to contact them. But she would do it on her terms, not theirs.


    Three blocks later, Paige made one more stop inside a convenience store to pick up a disposable phone and added minutes to it. On the way out, she used the phone to connect to a different cell phone on the other side of the city. The second cell would forward the call, making it impossible for the people she was contacting to trace where her signal was actually coming from.


    That done, Paige dialed a number from memory, turning to continue walking along the sidewalk as it rang. Her eyes scanned the road ahead of her, taking in everyone in the area. No one was paying attention. There were no familiar faces. She turned right, crossed the street, and moved down an alley. By that point, the other end of the line was finally picked up, as a voice spoke with a simple, ¡°How may I direct your call?¡±


    Taking a breath before letting it out, Paige turned to slump against the nearby wall. She let fear, uncertainty, and confusion enter her voice. ¡°I¡­ I got this number. I think¡­ I think I need to talk to¡­ to one of the Ministers? I¨Cthat¡¯s what the files that I¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she forced a soft, barely audible choked sound out of her throat to make it sound as though she was barely holding herself together. Then she gave it a three-count of silence before continuing with, ¡°One of the Ministers. Please. I need to talk to them. This is Pa¨CI mean¡­ I don¡¯t think I should say.¡±


    There was a pause from the other end of the line, before the simple voice replied, ¡°Please hold.¡± The line was then filled with soft, pleasant piano music. Just like any ordinary company. But Paige knew they would still be listening and recording. So she made herself breathe rapidly, exhaling in repeated shudders. Once, she murmured a very soft, ¡°Please, God.¡± Not too much. She didn¡¯t want to overdo it and make them suspicious. But she did want them to believe that she was right on the edge and terrified. That way they would think they were still in control.


    Eventually (and long after he had actually begun listening to her, Paige assumed), a male voice answered. ¡°Hello, Miss Banners. This is Minister Gray. You don¡¯t seem to be with your rescuer.¡±


    He was making a guess based on what he¡¯d heard through the phone, she knew. The Ministry was good, but not good enough to track her down just like that. Not given the measures she had taken to redirect her call. Certainly not in a way that would let them see her without her seeing them. And if they had seen the girl who had given them so much trouble, they would have tried to grab her by that point. So he was absolutely bluffing.


    Still, she couldn¡¯t react as though she knew that. So Paige adopted an even more fearful voice. ¡°Wh-what¨Chow do you¡­¡± Holding that to let the man on the phone think that she was looking around while terrified, she instead drew a P in the dirt on the ground beside herself before deciding that was long enough. ¡°Pl-please, just¡­ just¡­ listen, you can¡¯t¡­ I have the files I found. I have the files.¡± Don¡¯t push it. Don¡¯t be too eager or competent. Not straight off.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Minister Gray replied smoothly, sounding far more in control than Paige did. Good. He was calm and collected, already dismissing her as a real threat. ¡°You have the files, and we want the files. I¡¯m sure we can all come to an understanding and no one else has to get hurt.¡±


    ¡°Y-you people tried to shoot me in the head!¡± Paige squeaked indignantly, making a show of her voice rising to a high pitch before shushing herself. ¡°Yo-you tried to kill me. You¨Cyour people, you were¨Cy-you were going to¨Cyou can¡¯t just¨CI¨Cyou¨CI don¡¯t want t¨Cyou were going to¡­ you¨C¡± She made herself babble completely incoherently, as though she was barely holding on. The whole time, she idly checked the dirt on her nails from tracing her finger on the ground and made a face. Gross. Would this guy interrupt her already?


    Finally, he did. ¡°Now, Miss Banners, calm yourself. I¡¯m sure we can come to a suitable arrangement. After all, you still have our files, don¡¯t you?¡± A dangerous, yet still calm, note entered his voice. ¡°I do hope you haven¡¯t shared them with the boy who saved you.¡±


    ¡°N-no, sir.¡± Paige included the honorific, waited a second as though just then realizing what she had said to a villain, then amended, ¡°I mean¡­ no¡­ no. He¡¯s gone. He¡¯s gone, he¡¯s not i-involved anymore. I have the files.¡±


    ¡°Good, good,¡± Minister Gray praised. ¡°That¡¯s very good. So we can still work this out. How about you bring the files to a neutral location, let us take them off your hands, and then we can all go back to living our lives without this terrible complication?¡±


    Afraid, innocent, but not stupid, Paige reminded herself. The character she was playing might have been a normal, though snoopy, teenage girl. But she was not stupid. No one that wasn¡¯t a complete idiot would fall for that. And given how far she had gotten to get their files, they¡¯d never believe she was a complete idiot. Playing this as someone with a mixture of luck and intelligence who was still in way over her head was the way to go.


    And it wasn¡¯t that far from the truth. She was in over her head, in many ways. If only her father wasn¡¯t¨C


    Okay, that was a long enough pause. Stopping the silent count in her head, Paige hesitantly answered the man. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not doing that. I¡¯m not going to give you back the files. If I do that, you¡¯ll just¡­ you¡¯ll just kill me.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Minister Gray carefully replied, ¡°We can¡¯t let you keep them, Miss Banners.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you can,¡± she said quickly, injecting her voice with a note of urgency. ¡°Because I won¡¯t go to the cops. You know what¡¯ll happen if I do. By the time anyone believes me, one of your people¡¯ll be able to get to me. And you¡¯ll have no reason not to kill me. Not if I¡¯ve already blown your secret. L-look, I know how this works. I¡¯ve seen the¡­ the files, remember? If I try to tell anyone, no one will believe me in time. You people will kill me and¨Cand it won¡¯t accomplish anything. Even if it does, I¡¯ll be dead. And I don¡¯t wanna die.¡±


    ¡°You may find this hard to believe, Miss Banners,¡± the man informed her, ¡°but we would prefer not to kill you. Still, it seems we are at an impasse.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to the cops,¡± Paige reiterated. ¡°Or anyone else. All Paintball knows is that he saved me from some dressed up thugs. I¡¯m not¨C¡± She exhaled, again making herself shudder to inject the fear and sense that she was barely keeping it together into her voice. ¡°I¡¯m not stupid. It¡¯s called Mutually Assured Destruction. If I tell anyone, you¡¯ll find out and kill me. But I uploaded those files and if I don¡¯t check in and give a password to all the servers I uploaded them to at the right times, they¡¯ll be sent to every news station in the country. Even you can¡¯t lock that down. You kill me, your secrets get out. I put your secrets out, you kill me. Mutually Assured Destruction.¡±


    Another pause came, one that lasted almost thirty seconds before Minister Gray spoke again. ¡°Your suggestion then, Miss Banners, is that we agree to leave one another alone?¡±


    Making a point of exhaling hard with a choked sob that must have sounded like relief, Paige hurriedly agreed. ¡°Yes, yes. I saw the¨Cthe files, I know what you can do. I know¨Cjust¡­ just leave me and my family alone. And Paintball. He doesn¡¯t know anything. I didn¡¯t tell him about any of this. Leave us alone, your secrets stay secret, and¡­ and we can all just¡­ just¡­¡±


    ¡°Just be happy,¡± the Minister finished for her, sounding thoughtful. ¡°Agreed, for the moment. You can rest easy, Miss Banners. You have proven yourself quite capable, despite your lack of powers or resources. We will monitor the situation. As you say, should you attempt to contact any authorities, we will execute a scorched Earth policy. Keep what you know to yourself, and you will live a long and quite happy life.¡±


    ¡°Just leave me alone,¡± Paige replied, using a voice of mixed terror and relief before she disconnected the call. Taking the phone in both hands, she snapped it in half, tossing both halves to either side of the alley before straightening up. That was done. Now to get out of here.


    Unfortunately, she¡¯d barely dusted herself off and turned before finding herself facing six men. Not Ministry people. These were random thugs. Ninety-Niner people, from the look of them. Not even that high up either, just street toughs, lowest of the low. In more than one way.


    ¡°See, boys?¡± The clear leader of the group announced slyly while strolling closer. ¡°I told you there was some hot bitch hanging out back here. Is it our lucky day or what?¡± To Paige, he added, ¡°Lemme guess, you got separated from the tour group. But that¡¯s okay, cuz we have got a fun tour for you.¡±


    Shaking her head as her shoulders hunched, Paige fearfully replied, ¡°I d-don¡¯t want any trouble. I was just¨CI just had to make a phone call. I¡¯ll leave you alone now.¡±


    A switchblade appeared in front of her face, clicking into position as the man (a tall, pale figure with a thin build and one of those gross porn mustaches) sneered. ¡°I sure hope you didn¡¯t tell whoever you called that you¡¯d be home soon. Cuz we play rough with our toys.¡±


    Paige went still. Her eyes rose to meet the man¡¯s, and every ounce of fear and hesitation in her gaze vanished, as she replied flatly, ¡°So do I.¡±


    There was a flash of confusion in the face of the man she was facing, before her foot collided hard with his knee. It was a sharp enough blow that he stumbled forward. In the same motion, Paige stripped the knife from his grip, driving it up through his throat in a long vertical slice that sent blood spraying everywhere. Blood that missed her face entirely as her head snapped to the side while pulling the knife free.


    The man fell forward as she pivoted on one foot to let it pass. Behind him, his five friends were in the initial second of realizing something was wrong. Before even that much could fully settle on them, her hand snapped out, hurling the knife end over end until it embedded itself in the forehead of a second man.


    Four left, all of whom were caught between reacting to their leader¡¯s prone form on the ground in front of them, and the other man¡¯s falling body right beside them. All had been caught entirely flat-footed. Two managed to start pulling pistols from their pants, one producing a baseball bat, and the fourth just started bull-rushing toward Paige with a scream.


    She juked right, then leapt to the left as the charging man fell for that. In the same motion, she stripped off the jacket she had bought, throwing it into the face of the man who managed to get his pistol out first, making him flail and curse. By that point, the one who was charging swept right past her, grasping fingers missing the girl by inches.


    Paige continued her pivot, the motion carrying her to the opposite wall of the alley just as the second man had managed to get his gun out. Her hand caught hold of a trash can lid and she flung it, frisbee-like, into his face as he was trying to aim. His head snapped backward, gun firing twice into the ground by reflex. It was silenced, of course. With all the prevalence of Touched-Tech, you could practically get silencers in cereal boxes by this point.


    The metal trash can lid rebounded backward, and Paige was there, catching it with one hand before swinging it hard enough into the face of the man a second time to put a dent in the thing (and probably one in his forehead). Now she was standing between the two men with guns. In front of her was the man she had just hit twice. Behind her was the one still flailing with the coat over his face. To her left was the entrance of the alley, where the man with the bat was. To her right was the one who had charged at her, who was already turning around.


    Flipping the lid sideways, Paige slammed it hard enough into the throat of the man in front of her, who had already been hit twice, that he instantly collapsed to the ground while making frantic, desperate choking sounds. His pistol dropped from his hand, but Paige caught it in mid-fall with her left hand, snapping it down and backwards. At the same time, she flung the badly mangled lid toward the ground to her right.


    The charging man was on his way back, just as the sliding lid caught his descending foot and took it out from under him. He hit the ground hard.


    Meanwhile, the man with the jacket over his face had just managed to fling it off. But by that point, Paige felt the barrel of the pistol she had liberated contact his leg, and she pulled the trigger. A scream erupted from him as he took the bullet into his upper thigh. Still, the man brought his gun up, intending to blow her head off. At the same time, the one with the bat lunged in, swinging for the fences.


    Paige ducked and turned, pivoting so that the man with the gun fired a shot that went right over her head. Both of her hands went up, one with the gun and one without. With her free hand, she gave the first gunman¡¯s extended arm a hard shove. With the pistol, she fired a shot into the knee of the man with the bat.


    The bat collided with the extended (and adjusted) arm of the gunman with a sickening crunch. That pistol went flying while the man screamed. His scream was joined by one from the guy with the bat as the bullet from Paige¡¯s liberated pistol went through his knee.


    Free hand snapping out, Paige caught the second pistol in mid-air, before snapping both up in near-opposite directions. She fired a shot into the face of either man, then watched as their bodies fell. With barely a glance, she put the dying man whose throat she had collapsed out of his misery by shooting him in the head as well.


    Straightening, Paige pointed one of the pistols back the way she had come, firing a single shot that killed the man who had slipped on the trash can lid and had just been picking himself up.


    The alley was quiet. From the moment she had kicked the first man to make him trip until the flurry of violence was ended, less than fifteen seconds had passed. Stooping, Paige took the coat back from the ground and grabbed the knife she had touched, prying it from the forehead of the man it had killed. She put both pistols and the knife in the pockets while slipping it onto her shoulders.


    Then she walked away, her small form quickly swallowed up by the darkness of the city streets, leaving the dead gangsters behind without a second glance.

 Private Affairs 9-01

    I skipped out on my first couple classes the next morning. I just couldn¡¯t¡­ I couldn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t deal with them that morning. Getting to sleep had been hard enough after what I¡¯d heard. I woke up a couple times with strange nightmares I couldn¡¯t explain or even really remember. In the morning, I dragged myself through breakfast and used the voice changer again to call myself out of the first couple classes, claiming family obligation.


    Then I made my way to the half-finished youth center thing where I had first practiced with my powers. It was no more completed now than it had been a few weeks earlier, and I let myself in. But I didn¡¯t start playing with my paint again. Instead, I just stood there in the room with my face against my hands, letting all the emotions run through me. All the emotions I¡¯d been feeling for so long and had just been burying deep down inside me. With the lock taken off of them, they boiled up quickly, making me feel everything I¡¯d been pushing back since that fateful night.


    Gradually, my hands against my face closed into fists and I found myself moving to the nearest wall without conscious thought. My fist lashed out to hit the wall hard enough to hurt. Good. I hit it again with my other fist then I kicked the wall. Then I hit it with both hands and screamed out loud. Then I screamed again and punched it before kicking the wall several times in quick succession, each time saying a member of my family. Simon, Dad, Mom. I hit that wall while cursing loudly, not even really following anything that I was saying. It was emotional gibberish.


    Finally, I spun around, put my back to the wall that I had just been abusing, and sank down to sit with my knees drawn to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs. I buried my face against my knees, held myself as tight as I could, and screamed against my own leg. The sound was somewhat muffled and I did it again. I held myself even tighter than before, tighter than I thought possible, and screamed into my leg. Everything I felt poured out into that scream. But it wasn¡¯t enough. Just screaming wasn¡¯t enough, of course. It couldn¡¯t be. But that unleashed the floodgates, and my scream suddenly turned into a choked sob without any input from me. My hand groped blindly for my backpack, shoving in before finding what it was looking for.


    Felony. I came out with my little pink plastic unicorn with his leather jacket and held him tightly in both hands. I pressed my forehead against the toy, just as the tears burst forth like a dam had been broken. The force of it took me by surprise, and I fell onto my side as my body shook with emotion. I couldn¡¯t fight it. I couldn¡¯t control it. My eyes were stunned into blindness by the rushing tears. For some time, how long I wasn¡¯t sure, I just lay there on the floor, crying as I clutched my unicorn.


    No, it wasn¡¯t productive. It didn¡¯t actually contribute to anything. Maybe it was even childish. But I couldn¡¯t hold it back anymore. Not after what I had heard. Not after everything that happened. Not after having to shove my feelings down for so long. It all came out at once, and I was completely helpless to keep it in. I just lay there, sobbing from every bit of stress and lies that had been boiling up inside me. Having to keep myself under control while in the house the night before had been the end of my ability to bury it. The emotions had to come out, and right here, away from anyone who could possibly see, was my best chance. So I stopped holding back.


    Some time later, I opened my eyes and stared at the wall in front of me. I was still lying on my side, the floor under my face damp from my tears while I shuddered a bit weakly. I didn¡¯t move at first. I didn¡¯t do anything. I just lay there, staring at that wall. I was too exhausted from the rush of that whole emotional release to even think straight. I stared and let my mind stay as blank as possible. I didn¡¯t want to think. I didn¡¯t want to feel. I just wanted it all to go away for a few minutes. I just needed it to leave me alone for now. Please. Please just leave me alone. Just for a little bit. Just for now. Let me lay here and not¡­ not think about it. Please.


    I might have fallen asleep like that. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure. But the next thing I knew, my eyes were open. Something¡­ something caught my attention, visible just out of the corner of my eye. Quickly, I sat up and turned that way with a gasp.


    Nothing. There was nothing there. It was weird, for a second¡­ for a second I¡¯d thought I saw another one of those Touched orbs. It was so real. I¡¯d seen¡­ or thought I¡¯d seen it hovering just over there in the corner. It had looked the same as before, a small glowing blue orb with white rune symbols on it that flashed and moved in a hypnotic pattern. I¡¯d had the strangest feeling that it was¡­ watching me?


    Dream. I was definitely dreaming, imagining things, whatever. There was no orb. And now my body felt sore after dozing off like that. So, for another few moments, I just sat there and stared at the floor while letting my conscious mind catch up with everything.


    Okay. Okay, I had needed that. I had definitely needed it. That much was readily apparent. I could only hold in my emotions about everything for so long. If I wasn¡¯t careful, they were going to come out at the worst possible time. How would I have explained this kind of emotional outburst, or anything like it, to my parents, or to Simon, or to anyone I knew? How would I explain it to Izzy? God, Izzy. She would be so freaked out by any of that. I couldn¡¯t do that to her.


    But it was out now. It was done. I¡¯d let out some of that pressure, and now I could think. Now I could focus. Or try to, at least. I had a chance of keeping myself together enough for the moment. How long that would actually last, I couldn¡¯t say. But, for now, I was back in control.


    With some effort, I pushed myself to my feet, standing up before letting out a long, slow exhale. Okay, I¡¯d let go and had my moment of release. Now I had to focus on the actual situation.


    What did I know? First, Tomas¡¯s father was evil. That was completely indisputable. He had been ready and willing to shoot a girl in the head and dump her body in the water. The fact that I didn¡¯t particularly like that girl was completely irrelevant. She didn¡¯t deserve to die.


    Second, he worked for my parents. I knew that too. Mr. Jackson was an¡­ employee, or whatever, of my family¡¯s little (or not so little) criminal empire. I wasn¡¯t sure why he¡¯d been in the UK (did they have a division there too?!) for so long, but it was readily apparent that he¡¯d been working with them for quite awhile by this point. He was part of their whole organization, clearly.


    Third, he had a power of his own. He was Touched. And this power apparently allowed him to mess with people¡¯s memories. Which was something he used to help my family in their¡­ criminal things.


    The fourth thing I knew was that, for whatever reason, Paige was immune to that power. I had no idea why or how, because she wouldn¡¯t confide that in me. But somehow, she was immune. That was something I was going to have to look into further later. Which meant I was going to have to interact with Paige more, and wasn¡¯t that just the cherry on the giant sundae that was this entire situation?


    Okay, Cassidy, have some perspective, I told myself sternly. You might not get along with the girl, but your family is a bunch of actual supervillains. Having to interact with her is hardly the end of the world. You don¡¯t have to like it, but try to be a little more mature. She¡¯s not Satan.


    Anyway, that brought me to the fifth thing that I knew. The things that had pushed me over the edge. At some point in the past, Mr. Jackson had used his power on me. He had erased part of my memory. I had no idea why or what he had taken away. My mother had called it traumatic. But what was it? How traumatic could it be if there was no evidence of it anywhere? Had I found out about their real lives and flipped out on them? Was that why they hadn¡¯t told me the truth yet? Had I threatened to call the cops before I realized that it wouldn¡¯t do any good? Was that the trauma my mother was referring to? Had I run away from home? What happened? How long ago was it, even? It had to be before Mr. Jackson was sent back to the UK, didn¡¯t it?


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    No, no it didn¡¯t. Because planes were a thing. There were ways to travel, duh. It was more likely to have happened before then, but not definite. They could have brought him over during that time just to change my memory, then sent him back. I just didn¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t know enough about any of it. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, damn it. It could have happened at any point in my life. I just had no idea. I couldn¡¯t remember anything that felt like it was missing or incomplete, but that was the entire point of a memory being manipulated or erased, you didn¡¯t remember it the way you were supposed to.


    So yeah, a significant event within my memory had been erased or manipulated and I had no idea what it was. I wasn¡¯t even sure how to narrow it down. What was I supposed to do, go up to my mother and ask if there were any traumatic events in my past that I didn¡¯t remember properly? Yeah, that would definitely go over well. While I was at it, I¡¯d ask her if Dad had any superpowers I wasn¡¯t aware of, and if any of their business dealings might be a bit shady.


    Nope, that definitely wouldn¡¯t work. I needed to find out what exactly was missing in my past, but I couldn¡¯t just ask any of the actual players in the event that I knew about. I couldn¡¯t ask my parents or Mr. Jackson. God, Mr. Jackson. The thought of him sent a shudder through me.


    But hey, at least there was one bit of ¡®good¡¯ news from all of this. Now I finally knew why the man had always given me the creeps. Wait a minute. Wait just a second. He¡¯d always given me the creeps, since I first met him. Wait. If that was really why I found him creepy, because part of me remembered him changing my memory after some traumatic event, or being involved in it somehow, then¡­ did that mean that whatever had happened would have had to be from before I knew Tomas?


    My mind was racing. Yeah, it had to mean that, didn¡¯t it? There was absolutely no reason for Mr. Jackson to mess with my memory to make me find him creepy. There was no reason for him to change my memory to make me think I¡¯d always been disturbed by him. Either I was making it all up in my head from the start, which I didn¡¯t think I was, or the thing he had taken out of my mind was from before I¡¯d met Tomas. It had to be, that was the only thing that made sense, the only way all of this actually fit. Part of me had remembered the way he messed with my mind and had been warning me subconsciously this whole time, ever since I ¡®first¡¯ met him.


    Okay, well, there was a tentative bit of information that I¡¯d worked out already. Whatever happened was from before high school. Which didn¡¯t really do a lot to narrow it down further, but it was something to potentially work with. Maybe whatever happened came right before I met Tomas? Maybe my parents had brought Mr. Jackson and his family over to Detroit (or had the government transfer him, which just raised a hell of a lot more concerns on its own) to ¡®fix¡¯ my memory, and they¡¯d stayed after that for a bit to make sure the memory change really stuck?


    All of which led me to the thought I¡¯d been dreading focusing on. The thought that had been there at the back of my mind basically ever since I¡¯d heard Mr. Jackson on the phone the night before last, but even more so since my mother had said those words the night before.


    Tomas. Was our relationship real? Everything that happened, all the ways he¡¯d made me feel, the way¡­ the way he¡¯d treated me like an actual woman, someone he desired, was that¡­ real? Or was it fake? And if it was fake, was he in on it? Was he willingly manipulating me just to find out what I remembered or so that I would confide in him if something came to mind? Was he part of my parents¡¯ evil organization too, just like his father was, just like Simon was? I wanted to say no. I desperately, desperately wanted to say it was impossible. But I wanted to say that there was no way my family could be evil either, and look how far that had gone.


    And what if he didn¡¯t know about it, yet our relationship was still a lie? What if his memories had been altered to make him like me so his dad could keep an eye on me? Would his father actually go that far? Would he change his own son¡¯s memory and make him like me just for that? Again, he¡¯d been willing to shoot a teenage girl in the head, so I really had no accurate barometer for how far he would go or how low he would sink. I just¡­ I didn¡¯t know. I couldn¡¯t know. Everything was so wrong now. Everything was so fucked up. Nothing was real. I couldn¡¯t trust anything I knew or thought about any of that. It felt like everything bad and horrible was possible.


    What about Mrs. Jackson¡­ Mills? What about her? Was she in on this whole thing? I liked her more than her husband, but I didn¡¯t know. She could just be like my parents, better at hiding her real face. Or maybe the fact that I had never had my memory erased by her meant she didn¡¯t send my hackles up subconsciously. I just didn¡¯t know. She could be innocent or very much not.


    One thing was crystal clear now, even more so than it had been before. I couldn¡¯t trust anyone with this. Not my family, not Mr. or Mrs. Jackson, not Tomas¡­ I¡¯d made the right choice not to confide in Tomas earlier. I didn¡¯t know if he was willingly part of it or not, but for all I knew, Mr. Jackson¡¯s power let him mess with his son¡¯s mind to the point that he would report anything bad I said to him. And that would be the end of¡­ basically everything. No, whether he was part of it or not, I couldn¡¯t tell him any of it. There was far too much of a risk of it blowing up in my face.


    Okay, so I couldn¡¯t get any answers from Tomas. At least not directly. I couldn¡¯t get any answers from anyone directly. I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to openly ask about memory erasure.


    But there were other things I could do. First and foremost, Paige definitely knew something about all of this. A lot of somethings about it, maybe. She could probably fill in some of the blanks and help me understand the whole situation a lot better than I did right now.


    Beyond that, she had some kind of immunity to this memory altering power. If she could share that, or explain it, or whatever, that might help me get my own missing memories back. And getting my memories back was suddenly incredibly important. I had to know what had been erased. Yes, my mother had said they were traumatic. But I didn¡¯t exactly trust her judgment. Besides, they were my memories, and I wanted them back. I wanted to know the truth. I deserved the truth, as much as my family thought I didn¡¯t.


    Unfortunately, there was no way Paige would help with that. Not with things the way they were. As Paintball, she didn¡¯t really know me. I¡¯d saved her life, but she¡¯d made it clear that that didn¡¯t mean she¡¯d tell me everything she knew. Sure, she¡¯d talked like she was saving me from trouble, but still. She clearly wasn¡¯t to the point of sharing all the secrets she knew.


    And as Cassidy? Forget it. She hated me. She¡¯d always hated me. There was absolutely no way she would tell me anything if I came to her as myself. And even doing that would necessitate telling her enough that she¡¯d almost definitely be able to figure out that I was Paintball. And of all the various people who I dreaded finding out my identity, she was near the top. Not as bad as my family, of course, but still. I wasn¡¯t going to expose myself to her like that. Not if there was any possible way to avoid it. Not if I had any chance of getting the answers I needed without putting myself into that vulnerable of a position with someone who hated me.


    So¡­ was there a way for me to get Paige to tell me what she knew, and possibly help get my memories back, without actually telling her more than I wanted her to know? Maybe, maybe not. I didn¡¯t know yet. I needed to know more about that whole situation. Which meant I was going to have to interact with her more. I was going to have to go to her as Paintball and find ways of making her trust me, at least enough to find out how she was immune to the memory power and what this leverage thing she had was. I was just going to have to shove down my private dislike of her and make this work, somehow. I had to try, at least.


    Beyond that, I could also investigate the Jacksons themselves. After all, they had no idea that I knew the truth. I could find out just how much Tomas was involved, or his mother. Maybe I could even find out what memories had been taken from me by looking into Mr. Jackson himself. It would be risky, of course. But this whole thing was risky, so what else was new? I was basically fucked if my family found out anything that I knew, so I might as well keep going across the tightrope, right? There was no walking this thing back. I had to find out for myself, and that would mean taking risks.


    It would also mean actively spending time with them while restraining my own emotions. But I did that in front of my family already. It was¡­ different with Tomas, of course. It was¡­ oh God. God, I really hoped he wasn¡¯t actively part of this. If he was, if he¡¯d just been¡­ if he¡¯d just been manipulating me¡­


    No, I couldn¡¯t focus on that. I had to find out the truth, not wildly speculate about the worst possibilities. And finding out the truth meant looking into the Jacksons. Which meant burying my feelings deep down and playing nice.


    Okay. Well¡­ there were my current plans, as far as my family went. I had to investigate the Jacksons, and I had to make nice with Paige.


    Suddenly, going back to school and sitting in class for awhile didn¡¯t seem all that bad.

 Private Affairs 9-02

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you even think about it! Don¡¯t you think about going after that star. That star is mine!¡±


    Even as I blurted those words, my fingers worked frantically over the controller. I shot a quick glance toward Izzy, who sat beside me in the game room (the one that was directly across the hall from our bedrooms, not the main one with the billiards tables and all that). ¡°All I need is one more and this game is over! You¡¯re going down, Little Missy Izzy!¡± I declared confidently.


    That confidence took a pretty big hit a second later as I sent my character around the corner in the virtual maze only for them to trip over a wire that had been strung up. My yelp in real life almost matched the sound of the star that popped out of the character¡¯s flashing body from the impact.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± Izzy called, as her avatar popped out of hiding and grabbed the star. She hadn¡¯t been going after the one I thought she had been after all. She¡¯d simply made me think she was and laid a trap. A trap that I had blundered right into, instantly losing my advantage. Now she had two stars and only needed to find one more. Then she¡¯d be the one who ended the match.


    Quickly hitting the buttons to get my character back on her feet, I glanced toward the other girl once more. We were both wearing a pair of special glasses. They had come with the game. One pair was red, the other blue. The gimmick was that what the red glasses let you see on the screen was different from what the blue glasses let you see. The screen itself was divided into two halves and when I looked at the half that was Izzy¡¯s side, all I saw was a static image of her character that showed her current amount of life, how many stars she had, and a few other details. When she looked at my side of the screen, she¡¯d see the same for me. It let us play a split-screen game without either of us being able to cheat by watching what the other person was doing.


    Unsurprisingly, I hadn¡¯t really gotten that far with either of my goals earlier. Tomas said something about how his dad was apparently going to be holed up in meetings inside his home office for the next few days with a bunch of other people. Snooping around that place in the best of times wasn¡¯t going to be easy. If his father had other probable bad guys around? Yeah, forget about it. He was probably dealing with the aftermath of letting Paige get away alive and intact with the information she stole.


    Either way, going over there wasn¡¯t going to work right now. And as far as Paige herself went, I hadn¡¯t had any luck on that end either. She¡¯d disappeared shortly after the last class, and I hadn¡¯t been able to track her down as myself or as Paintball. She might¡¯ve been at her house, but the place was almost as big as ours and just as protected (and I didn¡¯t know where all the cameras were there like I did here). I¡¯d waited around a bit, but never saw her. I was going to have to try again another day. And didn¡¯t the idea of spending multiple days actively trying to spend time with Paige Banners just fill me with absolute joy and giddiness? No. No, it did not.


    Anyway, the point was that I couldn¡¯t do anything with either of those at the moment. And I¡¯d needed a break. More importantly, Izzy needed someone to spend time with her. I already felt bad about leaving her alone in the house for so long. Not alone. Worse, leaving her in a house that I knew for a fact was full of evil, evil people who were fine with killing innocent teenagers.


    Yes, despite our many issues, I was still counting Paige as innocent. I didn¡¯t know everything that was going on there, but I had no reason to think she was actually evil. A mean bitch who went out of her way to mock and insult me, sure. Someone I would gladly punch in the face? Undoubtedly. But not someone who deserved to be shot in the head. There were levels of bad.


    So I was here, playing a game with Izzy. And currently getting my butt kicked as I was unable to catch up with her before she managed to grab the last star. As I groaned and fell onto my back, she dropped the controller and cheered while pumping her hands into the air a few times. On the screen, we could finally see each other¡¯s sides, as my own character slumped and shook her head, while hers jumped up and down with the three stars spinning around her triumphantly.


    ¡°Sounds like someone¡¯s having fun in here.¡± That was my father¡¯s voice as he stepped into the room and smiled down at the two of us. ¡°How¡¯re we doing, girls?¡± he asked, giving a brief glance toward the screen. ¡°Ooh, this one. You should see the next game, it looks pretty good.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s head shook. ¡°The next one isn¡¯t gonna be out for another few months, Mr. Evans.¡±


    With a wink, Dad replied, ¡°You¡¯d be surprised what¡¯s ¡®out¡¯ when you invested in their start-up ten years ago. But you¡¯re right, it¡¯s not ready for the public. Too many glitches. Just saying, you¡¯re definitely gonna love it.¡± He let those words trail off teasingly while reaching down to rub the top of my head affectionately, his fingers gently stroking through the side that had long hair.


    A memory flashed through my mind, the memory of hearing Mr. Jackson on the phone telling my father that he would handle the situation with Paige by shooting her in the head. While I haven¡¯t heard Dad¡¯s side of the conversation, he obviously hadn¡¯t objected. Plus, I¡¯d heard him talk with Simon about killing ¡®me.¡¯ Or rather, the person who had witnessed those murders.


    It took everything I had not to freeze up or show much visible reaction as the wave of revulsion swept through me. It was joined by a rush of confused feelings. How could my awesome dad be like that? How could he be okay with killing people?  How could he be a supervillain? All of which was combined with my feelings about the fact that the man who had been my favorite superhero for so long was both my father and actually a villain, an evil psychopath. Damn it, why? Why?! That was the single word I wanted to scream at him in that moment. I wanted to demand that he explain himself and it took everything in me to stay outwardly calm.


    Swallowing back that reaction, I took a breath before turning to look up at him. Somehow, I managed to keep my voice from shaking or cracking too much as I slowly held up the controller. ¡°You want a chance to try to beat the champion over there? Maybe you¡¯ll have more luck.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, wish I could,¡± Dad lamented with a shake of his head. ¡°But I¡¯ve got too much to do right now. Got a meeting to run to. Just wanted to make sure you guys were okay up here. All good?¡±


    A meeting? What kind of meeting? Was he going out to see Mr. Jackson?  Was this related to the fact that Tomas had said his dad was going to be busy for the next few days? Or was my father going out as Silversmith? Hell, I wouldn¡¯t even be able to tell for sure if I saw that Silversmith had been out later, considering Dad clearly had a way of having someone else appear in his place. And how did he do that, anyway? How was he able to appear on the roof at that party that Pencil had interrupted both in his civilian guise and as Silversmith? Was the fake Silversmith just a body double who didn¡¯t actually have any of his powers, or had some kind of tech to fake it, or did Dad somehow share his powers with the other person, or¡­ or¡­ what?


    Yeah, I had no idea. Somehow, I managed to tell my father good luck and he dismissed himself a moment later, heading out of the room with an added promise that he would be back at some point to beat both of us at the game. He said he¡¯d take both of us on, so we should practice.


    After he was gone, Izzy looked at me with a slight frown. She¡¯d taken the glasses off and there was concern in her eyes. ¡°Cassie?¡± she started slowly. ¡°Are you okay? You seem a little weird.¡±


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    Shit, right. My father hadn¡¯t been able to see my face from his position behind me, but she had, and had clearly picked up something in the split second before I had gotten control of myself. Thankfully, I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d noticed too much. I¡¯d kept it together for the most part.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I replied, forcing myself to smile just a bit. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just hungry. You wanna go grab a snack real quick? Then we¡¯ll get right back up here and play another game. But I warn you, it might get pretty violent up in here, so you better be ready. Suddenly, I feel like I really¨C¡±


    *****


    ¡°¨Cneed to punch something in the face!¡±


    It was a few hours later, and I was out as Paintball. The words that blurted out of my mouth were accompanied by my actual fist slamming into the side of a man¡¯s mouth as I threw myself away from the wall where I had been clinging, watching him and his partner corner some poor girl in the alley. They had just shoved her to the ground when I made my presence known.


    Yeah, I couldn¡¯t do anything about the Jacksons or Paige just yet. But I could still do some good for random people. Hopefully, that would take my mind off of¡­ everything else. That was the idea, at least. And right now, it was working. Hitting a couple thugs who were trying to rob (and maybe do worse things to) some innocent woman? Yeah, I could definitely handle that.


    Thanks to the purple paint boosting my strength, the guy I punched was knocked to the ground with a yelp. His buddy quickly raised the pistol in his hand that he had been threatening their victim with, but I used a shot of red paint to yank it from his hand and tossed it down the alley. He let out a cry and lunged my way with a wild swing. As he did so, I used green paint to speed myself up, ducking under his arm and stepping behind him, pivoting before using the last of the purple strength to lash out with a kick into his back that knocked him down on top of his friend.


    Still sped up by the green paint, I moved quickly while the men were tangled up with each other. Producing a pair of normal handcuffs I¡¯d picked up, I clicked one shut around the wrist of the man I had kicked to the ground, and the other around part of the nearby dumpster to trap him.


    The first guy was scrambling on his hands and knees towards the gun that I had tossed away. With a sigh, I used blue paint to throw myself into a leap, turning over in the air to land on the ground between the man and the gun, facing him. ¡°Tell you what, dude. Let¡¯s play red light, green light. Red light!¡± With that, I shot two bits of red to his shoulders, yanking him off the ground and toward me. As he was pulled my way, I blurted, ¡°Green light!¡± Then I dismissed the red paint while simultaneously speeding myself up once more with green paint so I could quickly dodge out of the way just before the man slammed face first into the wall behind me.


    Before he could recover, I used another pair of handcuffs on him. This was a set of stay-down cuffs, so he definitely wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere. He lay on the ground groaning and cursing.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I informed him, ¡°just be glad our red light-green light game didn¡¯t involve an actual car.¡±


    Turning away from them both, I stepped over to where the girl was. She looked to be a few years older than me, probably in college. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming in deep, rapid gasps as she stared up at me while working her mouth repeatedly. No sound was coming out.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I promised, extending a hand to her. ¡°Trust me, those guys aren¡¯t going to hurt you.¡±


    Tentatively, she took my offered hand, letting me help her to her feet. Still, it took her another moment to find her voice. ¡°I¨Cyou¡­they¡­¡± The girl finally managed before giving a violent shudder. Then she was suddenly hugging me tightly. ¡°Thanks. Thank you so much. Oh, my God. They were going to¨Cthey were¨Cand you were¨Cbut they¨C¡± Her voice cracked again, and she was hugging me even tighter than before. ¡°Oh God, if you weren¡¯t here, y¨Cyou¡¯re amazing!¡±


    A deep blush spread out over my face and I hesitantly returned the hug. What else was I supposed to do? Even as a brief flash of guilt about the fact that I still couldn¡¯t do anything about my evil family washed over me, I pushed it away firmly. This girl didn¡¯t care about any of that stuff. All that mattered right now, in this moment, was that she was safe. That was enough.


    Once the girl was calmed down as much as I could manage, I used the doephone app to let the authorities know where to pick these guys up and what had happened. Then I waited with her for another few minutes until the patrol car showed up. As soon as the cop stepped out and the girl (her name was Macy, apparently) ran up to him, I excused myself, using a shot of red paint to yank myself all the way up to the roof of the building we were next to.


    Clambering up onto the roof, I spoke immediately. ¡°So, how did I do? Good enough to pass?¡±


    A guy in a military camouflage suit (black and brown), along with a ski mask and heavy-looking gauntlets stood a few feet away. It was the Minority guy, Whamline. He tilted his head a little at my words, before curiously asking, ¡°So you knew I was up here watching the whole time?¡±


    My head shook as I admitted, ¡°Not the whole time. I saw you looking down back when I jumped over that guy partway through.¡± Idly gesturing over my shoulder, I added, ¡°Figured you were getting ready to hand out my score. So, like I said, how¡¯d I do? Did the Russian judge screw me over on points again? I swear he never gives out anything higher than a five, the stingy jerk.¡±


    Snorting a bit at that, the Minority Touched replied, ¡°Looked pretty good from up here. You definitely saved that girl. I¡¯m just still a little confused about the whole good guy or bad guy thing. Like I said the other day, you¡¯re all buddy buddy with a few villains, but you¡¯re also helping people. Most Star-Touched aren¡¯t palling around with the people who are hurting the city.¡±


    Oh boy, would he ever have been surprised. Or maybe he wouldn¡¯t be. Honestly, for all I knew, he was working with my father and trying to sniff out what I actually knew. There was just no way to tell right now. I definitely couldn¡¯t trust him. I couldn¡¯t trust anybody. Look at what happened with the whole Tomas situation. I had thought that his family was at least somewhat safe considering they¡¯d been out of the city for so long, and it turned out that his father was one of my family¡¯s top enforcers or agents or whatever. So yeah, confiding in Whamline (or anyone else) right now just wasn¡¯t going to happen. It wasn¡¯t worth the risk.


    So, I just shrugged at the boy. ¡°I help people who need help,¡± I informed him. ¡°Blackjack¡¯s daughter needed help. That girl back there needed help. I wasn¡¯t going to say that Blackjack¡¯s kid could rot in hell just because of who her father is. There¡¯ll be other chances to bring him in.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fair,¡± Whamline agreed. ¡°But you¡¯re still a little confusing. I don¡¯t know what it is, I just feel like there¡¯s a lot more to this whole situation that you¡¯re not talking about. And something tells me that something is gonna end up exploding in a lot of our faces. Not saying I don¡¯t like you, or that you¡¯re bad¡­ just¡­ something¡¯s dangerous about you. About all of this.¡±


    What was I supposed to say to that? He wasn¡¯t exactly wrong. There was a good chance that, even if he wasn¡¯t knowingly working with my evil father, the whole situation would still end up going bad. It was just¡­ too fragile. Someone was going to get hurt at some point.


    In the end, all I could do was reply, ¡°I have my reasons, my own issues. But those are my issues. The point is, I really do want to help people. That¡¯s important, right?¡±


    He nodded once. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s definitely important. And that¡¯s what bugs me. Because you¡¯re just¡­ you¡¯re helping people. But every time I look at you, I just get this¡­ feeling that¨C¡± Cutting himself off, he sighed out loud. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Look, I¡¯m sorry, okay? I¡¯m just paranoid. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re out here helping people. I¡¯m glad you helped Blackjack¡¯s daughter, no matter who her father is. I¡¯ve seen a bit of what Rot-Bone can do, and it¡¯s not¨Cno one should go through it. So, good job, seriously. And thanks for helping Way before, at the hospital.¡±


    I assured him that it wasn¡¯t a big deal, but he disagreed. Thanking me again, while still being clear in his body language is that he thought there was more to me, the boy held his hand out. A glowing energy coil shot from it to a nearby billboard and he used it to swing himself over to the next building. From there, a second energy coil lashed out to catch the taller building beyond so the boy could swing himself out and around it. Then he was gone.


    For a moment, I continued to stand there, watching after his departing form. A long, slow sigh escaped me, as my head shook. Right. As much as I might¡¯ve wanted to explain everything to someone, I couldn¡¯t. Certainly not him. I had to keep all this under control.  And, for the moment, I had to distract myself.


    Maybe I could find another bad guy who needed to be punched.

 Commissioned Interlude 1 - That-A-Way And Pack

    As his semi rumbled to a stop in the back of a nearly empty truckstop on the edge of Detroit, Aaron Jessup shut down the vehicle while letting out a loud yawn. Giving his head a firm shake to wake himself up, the man thought he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye, toward the passenger side of his truck. Snapping his gaze that way, however, he saw nothing more than the edge of the lot with the still-busy freeway beyond. He¡¯d thought there was a shadow moving closer, but clearly, he was just so tired that his eyes were playing tricks on him.


    Shaking that off, the man opened the door of his truck and started to step down. Just as his left foot touched the ground, however, with his right still on the step and his arm holding the bar, he felt something press up against his crotch. The sensation, naturally, made him stop suddenly.


    ¡°Good instincts,¡± the man heard from below him. Slowly and gingerly, he lowered his gaze before finding out what was pushing against his groin. Seeing it, however, did not make the man feel any better. It was a gun. The barrel of a sawed-off shotgun, to be specific. The weapon was held against him by a figure laying on their back half-under the truck. Even without the gun, the figure themselves would have been terrifying to behold in that situation. She wore a leather jacket that started out black at the bottom before gradually becoming green toward the top. The hood of the jacket was up to cover her hair, and she wore a featureless black mask with no mouth or eye holes, turning the area where her face should have been into a dark void.


    ¡°Believe it or not, I really don¡¯t want to shoot you,¡± the girl¡¯s voice informed Aaron quietly while he stared where her eyes should be. ¡°It¡¯s not my idea of a good time. And I know it¡¯s not yours. So we¡¯re all gonna play nice and you¡¯ll be just fine. I¡¯ll get what I want, then you can call the cops and report the loss to your company and their insurance. Nod your head and say okay.¡±


    After the briefest of pauses, during which he felt that gun barrel push just a bit more against his most precious part, Aaron finally gave a quick nod. His voice sounded a little choked up. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± the girl replied. ¡°And my friend doesn¡¯t want to hurt you either, unless you make him.¡±


    ¡°Him?¡± Aaron echoed, only to hear the passenger door of his truck open before someone climbed in that side. Someone quite large and heavy, given the way the truck shuddered.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you to not scream, not try to escape, not make any sudden moves,¡± the girl on the ground informed him in a very patient, yet commanding voice. ¡°If you cooperate, he won¡¯t hurt you, I promise. Just get back up in your seat and buckle up. Remember, no matter how much he freaks you out, he will not hurt you if you follow instructions. Can you do that for me?¡±


    Not trusting his voice at first, the man nodded weakly before managing a soft, ¡°Y-yeah.¡± He very gingerly moved, pulling himself back up into the truck and away from that gun. Only once he had safely settled in the seat did the man glance over to see who was in the truck with him.


    It was a monster. Literally. The enormous thing, taking up most of that side of the front seat, looked like a gorilla with lizard-like scales instead of fur. It was giving him a broad, toothy smile, one hand raised in a wave of greeting as though all of this was a perfectly normal thing.


    Whether he stayed still because he remembered the order from the girl to not move or scream no matter what he saw, or because he was frozen in terror, Aaron couldn¡¯t rightly say. All he knew was that he was completely frozen in place, staring in shock at the figure beside him.


    ¡°Good,¡± the masked girl praised while picking herself up. She put the gun away, apparently content that her monstrous companion would keep him in line. ¡°But what else did I say?¡±


    It took the man a moment, before he very shakily reached out to catch hold of his seatbelt. Without taking his eyes off the thing beside him, he fumbled with it a bit before buckling up.


    Rather than speak again, the girl simply closed the driver¡¯s side door, patted it briefly, then disappeared as she walked around the front before climbing in the open passenger door. Through it all, Aaron simply stared at the scaled gorilla, unable to take his eyes off it.


    ¡°Okay,¡± the girl announced after climbing in, perching on her¡­ pet¡¯s lap, and closing the door. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. I¡¯ll tell you where to go. Like I said, be nice and cooperate and you¡¯ll get out of this without a single scratch, I promise. Oh, I¡¯m Pack, by the way. Given your Maryland licence plates, I¡¯m pretty sure you don¡¯t spend much time around Detroit.


    ¡°So¡­ what do you think of the city so far?¡±


    *******


    With the truck safely parked in the backlot of an old, unused hardware store, Pack watched as Twinkletoes and Mars Bar unloaded the electronics equipment from the back of the truck and transferred it into a waiting van. The truck¡¯s driver was sitting on a nearby curb, being watched by Holiday now. The man showed no interest in trying to run away or fight back. Which was good, because Pack meant what she had said. As long as he cooperated, he¡¯d be fine. Blackjack wanted this guy¡¯s cargo, but there was no reason to be an evil cunt about it.


    However, things apparently just couldn¡¯t go completely smoothly no matter how cooperative the driver was being. That much became clear as, just when Pack was about to offer the man a bottle of water, a warning screech came from up in the sky where Riddles was flying cover.


    Instantly upon hearing the warning, Pack spun. She¡¯d taught her bird-lizard specific calls to give based on what the warning was. This one meant that a threat was coming from behind her. In mid-motion, the girl had the shotgun in her hand, extending it in time to see the threat appear right in front of her, snatch the gun from her hand, and toss it aside to clatter on the ground.


    ¡°Well,¡± she announced to the newcomer. ¡°That was rude. Not even a hey, good to see you?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not on the same side this time, Pack,¡± That-A-Way informed her sharply. She had just teleported into place after hearing the warning cry from Riddles that told her she¡¯d been spotted. ¡°I told you I¡¯d have to take you down if I saw you out doing bad shit again, no matter what we went through before. So what exactly do you call this?¡± She waved a hand to where Mars Bar and Twinkletoes had stopped moving boxes from the truck to the van and now stood watching.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Pack considered that for a moment before offering, ¡°Some early Christmas shopping?¡±


    Despite herself, and despite spending the past few seconds before making this confrontation telling herself to be firm and take no excuses or nonsense during this, That-A-Way wanted to smile. The answer was so absurd, and came out with such false earnestness, that a snicker almost escaped her. That was why confronting Pack right now was so dangerous. Not because the girl herself was so terrible, but because¡­ because she wasn¡¯t. Because That-A-Way actually liked the time they¡¯d spent together the two times they¡¯d been forced into being allies.


    She should have called in back-up. She knew that. Given her feelings and history, her first action as soon as she saw what was going on should have been to call in one of the other Minority who could help deal with this. But she¡¯d frozen, torn between calling in help or¡­ not. And through that hesitation, Riddles had spotted Way, forcing her hand. Now she was here, standing in front of Pack after disarming her and trying to tell herself that the other girl was just any other villain. She was robbing this truck driver. No matter how much That-A-Way enjoyed talking to her, she was a villain who needed to be taken down and brought in.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Pack agreed casually. ¡°We¡¯re definitely not on the same side. But wouldn¡¯t it be fun if we were?¡± The tone of her voice implied the wink that couldn¡¯t be seen through the mask. ¡°Seriously, come on. I know you¡¯re not some stuffy boring old hall monitor. You and me, we could have some crazy times out here. We don¡¯t need to fight.¡±


    ¡°Are you insane?¡± That-A-Way demanded, voice rising a bit defensively despite herself. ¡°In case it escaped you, I¡¯m not a supervillain. And I¡¯m definitely not going to hurt people.¡±


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    Pack¡¯s response to that was a simple shrug. ¡°Who said anything about hurting people? Does that guy over there look hurt? Do you really think losing a few boxes of equipment like this is gonna hurt that big ass multi-billion dollar company? Trust me, they¡¯ve got all this covered.¡±


    Slowly, That-A-Way shook her head. ¡°Look, I¡¯m telling you, we can do this the nice way. I¡¯ll arrest you, take you in, then you sit in jail. Neither of us has to throw a punch. Maybe they¡¯ll let you switch sides, Pack. You and your friends here, they could do some real good, instead of stealing things and hurting people. And you are hurting them, no matter what you think.¡±


    There was a brief pause then, as Pack seemed to consider. But in the end, the suggestion was apparently not what she was thinking through. Instead, she offered, ¡°Tell you what. I¡¯ll tell my buddies here to stay back and not intervene. Which means I won¡¯t be using my powers. You don¡¯t use yours. If you can take me down like that, no powers on either side, then we¡¯ll all surrender and you can take us in. How¡¯s that sound?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± That-A-Way blurted with a frown. ¡°You want me to fight you without either of us using powers, and if I win, you and all your friends here will just surrender peacefully.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Pack pointed out slyly, ¡°we¡¯ll have just fought, so I¡¯m not sure how much you could call it peacefully. But other than that¡­ yeah. You and me, right here, no powers. Think you can hand-¡±


    In mid-sentence, Pack was interrupted as That-A-Way took a swing at her face. She jerked back, twisting with a laugh. ¡°See?¡± she blurted in mid-pivot as the fist went right past her nose, ¡°you would make a pretty good villain with underhanded sneak attacks like that.¡±


    She quickly snapped an arm down to deflect the other incoming fist, before twisting once more so That-A-Way¡¯s kick hit the side of her hip. It still hurt, but not as much as it might have. Before the next attack could come, however, she continued her pivot, putting her back toward That-A-Way as her elbow lashed out to hit the other girl in the face.


    The impact made the blonde stumble a bit, but That-A-Way recovered quickly, both hands snapping up to catch Pack¡¯s swinging arm as it came in for a hard punch. Gripping tightly to keep the girl in place, she lashed out with a kick toward her opponent¡¯s side and was rewarded with a grunt of pain as she connected. But the leather jacket was clearly padded for protection.


    Through all of this, the menagerie of lizard-creatures watched with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. That same curiosity was reflected in the face of Aaron the truck driver, as he too watched all of this. Together, they all stared as their owner and the girl she had previously worked with (and who had actually saved Holiday¡¯s life) went after one another in a wild brawl.


    Taking the kick on her side while her extended arm was held by both of That-A-Way¡¯s hands, Pack grunted before stepping in close, her free hand snapping out to slam the heel of it into the other girl¡¯s shoulder. The blow was enough to loosen the grip Way had on her other arm, and Pack twisted free, pivoting in and around before driving her knee up into the girl¡¯s stomach.


    Or at least, that was the plan. In practice, her opponent managed to catch her rising knee with one hand before slamming her arm into Pack¡¯s face with a somewhat-wild swing. Pack did, however, manage to put a fist into the side of the elbow of That-A-Way¡¯s arm that was holding her knee, knocking away her grip.


    Both girls yelped in pain, stumbling back away from each other for a moment. It had been a wild handful of seconds, with both landing a few blows but neither actually getting very far. They each moved, pacing in a slow circle around one another while watching for an opening as they breathed hard in and out.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Pack announced with a slow pant, ¡°I guess you Minority guys must learn how to fight without your powers after all. Kudos.¡± Her voice adopted a teasing tone once more. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any chance you could tell me what parts of that class you weren¡¯t so good at?¡±


    ¡°Nice try,¡± Way snorted before doing a quick step-in, feinting a kick while using her opposite hand to catch hold of Pack¡¯s wrist. She quickly pivoted in and around, shoving the villain girl¡¯s hand up behind her back before putting her other arm around Pack¡¯s neck. ¡°I was pretty good at grappling, I¡¯ll tell you that much.¡±


    ¡°Well yeah,¡± Pack agreed with a grimace, arm pinned behind her back as it was, ¡°who wouldn¡¯t want to let you practice on them? Have you seen yourself?¡± Using That-A-Way¡¯s brief distraction at those words, she stomped down on the girl¡¯s foot, then twisted her arm free before pivoting to punch at her stomach. Her fist, as expected, was knocked aside. But she was free, and both girls stumbled away once more.


    Their fight continued that way for another minute, neither gaining any real advantage as they avoided any use of their powers (which, in Pack¡¯s case, simply consisted of repeating her order for the lizard-creatures to stay out of the way no matter what happened). Blows were exchanged between them, each taking a few bruises and bumps that they would feel through the rest of the night and into the next day. This whole thing was clearly more than a simple sparring match, yet also somehow less than an actual fight. They bantered, they teased each other, they¡­ talked, to an extent. They were simultaneously taking it seriously and yet not. It was an impossible situation for either to explain. All the two girls knew was that¡­ it was fun. They both wanted to win, that was for sure. Yet they also¡­ didn¡¯t terribly mind the idea of the other winning either.


    Finally, That-A-Way managed to slip behind Pack while the other girl was stumbling forward, off-balance. Before she could recover, Way lashed out with a kick into her back that launched her up against the back of the nearby truck with a yelp. It was the best opening Way had had through all of this, and she took advantage by grabbing the stay-down cuffs from her hip and lunging that way. She brought one cuff in toward Pack¡¯s wrist even as the girl hit the truck.


    But Pack recovered faster than Way had expected. At the last possible second, she snatched her hand down, pivoting to catch the incoming handcuff. A quick twist of the metal and That-A-Way felt it snap around her own wrist. The other cuff was just as quickly attached to the handle of the truck¡¯s rear door. Way lashed out with her free hand, but Pack stumbled backward just in time, panting heavily.


    ¡°Whew,¡± the girl managed with a cough, ¡°that was close.¡±


    Turning to face her, hand still cuffed to the truck, That-A-Way shook her head. ¡°You still don¡¯t have to be a thief, you know. You can stop this any time. It¡¯s your choice.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m so good at it,¡± Pack replied easily. ¡°And besides, what would I do otherwise? Be a hero?¡±


    ¡°You could if you wanted to,¡± Way pointed out with narrowed eyes. ¡°You and your friends over there could help a lot of people.¡±


    ¡°See, I can help people without being a hero,¡± Pack retorted, though her voice was light. ¡°But I don¡¯t have to do it at the beck and call of a system designed to make the rich richer and smash the poor under its treads. What do you think I do when I see someone being hurt? I mean really hurt by real bad guys. There¡¯s a difference between what I do and what they do.¡±


    ¡°You want to change the system and make people¡¯s lives better?¡± Way blurted a bit incredulously. ¡°Then do it inside the system! You want Star-Touched to really help people who need it? Be a Star-Touched and help people who need it!¡±


    There was a brief pause before Pack stepped closer. ¡°You still see everything as being that black and white? Things aren¡¯t that simple, babe. Though I will admit,¡± she added carefully while stripping off one of her gloves to reveal a dark-skinned hand that she gently touched against Way¡¯s pale cheek. ¡°Black and white does make a pretty good combination at times.¡± The words came in a soft voice, both girls staring at one another for a long few seconds.


    Abruptly, Pack stepped back, casually adding, ¡°One, we both know you can teleport out of that cuff any time you want to.¡±


    Even as she said those words, That-A-Way was disappearing from the cuff. She reappeared a few feet away, mouth open to interrupt in one last plea for the other girl to just surrender.


    But Pack continued. ¡°¨CAnd two, I just gave the stand-down order for Holiday to stop guarding her prisoner. Which means¡­¡±


    With a loud, somehow delighted and friendly rather than terrifying, snarl, Holiday the panther-lizard lunged out of the shadows to knock That-A-Way to the ground. They landed heavily, Holiday frantically licking all over her face and nuzzling up against her while the girl squealed in surprise.


    ¡°She wants to say hello,¡± Pack finished with a small smirk. She let that go on for a few seconds before reaching down to take hold of Holiday, pulling her back. The two stood over the Minority hero, Pack offering a shrug. ¡°Hey, you interrupted when we were only halfway done, so I guess we can call it a tie.¡±


    That-A-Way started to say something, only to look over from her prone position to see the van start up and drive off. ¡°You weren¡¯t alone¡­¡±


    ¡°Never said I was,¡± Pack pointed out. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Broadway¡¯s cool. She would¡¯ve held to the deal I made and let you take me in. Maybe you can meet her next time.¡±


    ¡°Next time,¡± Way assured her, ¡°I¡¯m going to bring you in.¡±


    Walking backward away from the girl, Pack casually replied, ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll let you cuff me then! Could be fun!¡±


    She turned then, sprinting away while accompanied by her animals, leaving That-A-Way laying on the ground. As the girl watched the menagerie and their leader disappear into the darkness, her comm beeped.


    ¡°That-A-Way?¡± Wobble¡¯s voice came, ¡°you okay? What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Touching the comm in her ear to activate it, Way answered, ¡°I¡¯ve got the truck and the driver. Thief took off in a van, but I managed to interrupt before they took everything they wanted.¡±


    ¡°Any bad guys to bring in?¡± her teammate asked.


    ¡°¡­ No. No bad guys this time. She got away.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± Wobble muttered through the comm. ¡°Eh, don¡¯t worry. There¡¯s always next time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Amber murmured in a soft voice, staring through the darkness where the other girl had disappeared.


    ¡°There¡¯s always next time.¡±

 Private Affairs 9-03

    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t find anyone else that I could hit that night. I did run across a couple¡­ situations, but by the time I got there, they were already well in hand by one Star group or another. I mostly watched while a few of the Conservators or Ten Towers people mopped up some bad guys here and there. In a way, it was bad for the fact that I didn¡¯t get to hit anyone else (and I was really in the mood to hit things). But it was also cool to watch other Touched from a good vantage point when I didn¡¯t have to worry about life and death problems.


    Okay, correction, I was worrying about life and death problems. But not immediate ones.


    Anyway, it was also a good thing because less crime meant less people being hurt. As much as I wanted to work some of my stress off, that much was undoubtedly true. And just what the hell was wrong with me anyway? What had changed so much in such a short time that I felt at least a little bad that I couldn¡¯t find more violent bad guys to punch? Was that really the best way to deal with all the stress I was feeling because of the whole¡­ every bit of my current situation?


    No, probably not. Undoubtedly not. Ideally, I should talk to someone about it and just vent to a live person. But who the hell was I going to talk to? Who could I tell¡­ half this stuff to, let alone all of it? Telling anyone about who my parents were was just¡­ it was either too dangerous or unfair. I couldn¡¯t dump it onto Wren. I wouldn¡¯t dump it onto Wren. She was a kid. A pretty great kid with an incredibly useful power, who was fun to talk to and all that. I trusted her. I liked her. That was why I wouldn¡¯t tell her about all this bullshit. She didn¡¯t deserve that kind of stress.


    In the end, I found a less violent way of working off my aggression. Specifically, I spent an hour or so skate-painting my way across the city. Jumping from building to building, running along walls, popping the wheels out to race down the side before hitting a blue patch that sent me rocketing back up to a nearby billboard, and so on. It was my own insane extreme sport and I actually noticed a few people here and there taking pictures and video recording. I might¡¯ve hammed it up a bit for them just because it was a way of putting everything else out of my mind.


    So, while I couldn¡¯t hit anyone, I did manage to¡­ exercise a lot of my aggression out. At least enough that when I finally made myself go home¡­ home to a house full of bad guys save for Izzy, I actually fell asleep very quickly. And, wonder of wonders, I didn¡¯t have any bad dreams. Or any dreams at all. I was able to sleep through the whole rest of the night, and because it was Saturday, I didn¡¯t even wake up until midway through the next morning. It was almost eleven when I finally dragged myself up. Apparently I¡¯d really needed that extra sleep. Go figure.


    Yup, I was well-rested. Which was probably a good thing, considering tonight was supposed to be Amber¡¯s big birthday party. And I was pretty sure she would hunt me down if I didn¡¯t show because I was too tired. If I was afraid of nightmares now, the thought of Amber kicking my door in while I was napping through her party was even worse. Yeah, I was definitely going.


    And so was Izzy. I had no doubt we wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere without the entourage that had ¡®secretly¡¯ followed us around when we went to the mall to pick up treats for that movie night. Which meant I was going to have to be super careful not to do anything that might give away my own secrets. Because I was positive that there were going to be a lot of eyes, my family¡¯s organization watching to make sure that¡­ whatever threat they were protecting Izzy from didn¡¯t touch her. Or making sure that she stayed put and didn¡¯t run away. Or making sure she didn¡¯t¨C


    Okay, so I still had absolutely no idea what that was about. Was my family protecting her? Were they keeping her prisoner, even if she didn¡¯t know she was a prisoner? Some combination of both? Part of me wanted to drag the girl into a closet and get answers out of her about all that once and for all, but that¡­ that would probably be a bad idea. A very bad idea.


    In any case, I spent those few hours I had before the party taking a trip out to see Wren. Making my way to the other girl¡¯s hidden shop, I found her and Fred hard at work in the basement once the door buzzed to let me in. The two appeared to be converting the room where we had been keeping Ashton into some kind of metal workshop. Which probably made sense, given the fact it was already apparently soundproofed. Actually, Wren had said something about setting up that room for ¡®little explosions and stuff¡¯, which¡­ come to think of it, should that kind of worry me?


    Nah. I was sure Wren knew what she was doing. And if she didn¡¯t, I certainly couldn¡¯t be any help.


    ¡°If you install a swivel chair that can turn around slowly,¡± I informed her while leaning against the doorway to watch her work, ¡°I think I might know someone who can get you a fluffy white cat.¡±


    ¡°Hi, Paintball!¡± she blurted, popping to her feet and pushing the welding mask she¡¯d been wearing up away from her face. Her hands were covered in what looked like black soot. ¡°I like fluffy white cats, but it¡¯s not an evil lair. It¡¯s a room for me to build things that could, um¡­¡±


    ¡°Things that could damage the rest of the building if they aren¡¯t contained,¡± Fred finished for her. He was just setting a heavy H-shaped metal beam thing down against a spot on the wall that had been marked out with tape to show where it should go. As he spoke, the man picked up an electric screwdriver sitting nearby and proceeded to start driving in screws through slots in the metal thing. Clearly, he was doing the heavy lifting part of this after Wren detailed what to do.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a good thing you have this room to contain anything like that, huh?¡± Stepping into the room, I asked, ¡°Is there anything I can do to help? Even just grunt work. I need to take my mind off¡­ things.¡± Why did I say that? Why did I even bring it up? Now Wren was going to¨C


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Sure enough, the little girl immediately piped up with that question.


    My head shook quickly. ¡°It¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t handle, really. It¡¯s okay, if I need help, I¡¯ll definitely ask.¡± Giving her a thumbs up in the hope that it would stop her from worrying about me, I gestured. ¡°Like I said, I need a distraction right now. So, how can I help out around here, huh?¡±


    I spent the next couple hours just helping them fix up that room. There was a lot to do to get it ready for all the stuff Wren wanted to build and experiment with, And the more she talked about all of that, the more excited she was. Not that I really followed what she was saying that well, but her eagerness was infectious. It really did help me take my mind off all my stuff, thankfully.


    When we were done, at least for the moment, Wren beckoned for me to follow her into the main room. She moved to a box and produced what looked like the same shoes I was wearing. ¡°Ta da!¡±


    Grinning behind the helmet, I teased, ¡°Hey, they look just my size too. If this whole Tech-Touched genius thing doesn¡¯t pan out in the end, you could probably make a killing as a cobbler. Mmmm, cobbler. Now I want pie. Do you think shoe cobblers want pie a lot? I bet someone at some point heard ¡®shoe cobbler¡¯ and got very confused about people¡¯s tastes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re weird,¡± Wren informed me with a giggle before tossing the shoes to me. ¡°Try them on! Come on, come on, I wanna see!¡± She was bouncing up and down with obvious excitement.


    Chuckling despite myself, I moved to sit down on the nearby couch. While Wren (And Fred, who stood in the doorway and looked pretty curious himself) watched, I took off my own pace-skates and pulled the new shoes on. As expected, they fit just fine. Perfectly, really. Lacing them up, I stood and walked back and forth across the room a couple times. ¡°Yup, they feel great.¡±


    Literally bouncing up and down eagerly, Wren urged, ¡°Say, ¡®Wheels-Out¡¯.¡±


    Readying myself, I did so. Of course, the wheels popped out. The phrase ¡®Wheels-In¡¯ brought them in. According to Wren, the skates would only respond to the code being spoken by the person wearing them, which was nice. It meant I could make them work even if I wasn¡¯t using my voice changer thing, without asking her to program my real voice into it. Part of me wondered just how much of a coincidence that actually was. Did she, like Blackjack, know I was using a voice changer and simply wasn¡¯t pushing to find out why?


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°But I didn¡¯t just reinvent the same pace-skates,¡± Wren excitedly informed me. ¡°That¡¯d be boring. They¡¯ve done that already. These are special! Check it out, when the shoes or the skate wheels are against something like a wall or a ceiling, they¡¯ll stay there unless you pull them away yourself.¡±


    ¡°But the wheels still roll and everything?¡± I asked, certain she knew better than I did how to make something like that work, but still curious about the specifics.


    Sure enough, her head bobbed up and down quickly. ¡°Uh huh, uh huh. See, they don¡¯t¡­ ummm¡­ they don¡¯t really stick like your red paint does. It¡¯s more of a¡­ a gravity thing.¡±


    Blinking, I asked, ¡°Gravity thing?¡±


    So she explained. ¡°See, whenever the shoes or the wheels are pressed against something, they project a sort of¡­ umm, okay well the simple version is that they change your personal gravity depending on the orientation of the thing they¡¯re pressed against. If you¡¯re walking on the ground, your gravity is normal. If you put them against the wall, it¡¯ll change your personal gravity so that it¡¯s coming at you from the side instead of above, see? And if you¡¯re upside down with the shoes against the ceiling, it¡¯ll reverse gravity so it¡¯s coming at you from below to keep you up there. No matter which way you¡¯re facing, the shoes will make the gravity bubble around you act like you¡¯re standing right-side up on solid ground!¡± As she finished explaining that much, the kid was (understandably) beaming.


    ¡°Holy shit, Wren,¡± I muttered in amazement. ¡°You do good work on short notice.¡±


    She shrugged at that. ¡°Not really short notice. I was working on the gravity thing for my own stuff, and started sketching ideas for your thing right after we met. Getting your size was the last part and that was just to buy shoes to put the equipment into. It¨C¡± She hesitated, biting her lip with obvious apprehension and uncertainty. ¡°You really like it? I thought it¡¯d help if you could get around like you do without using as much paint.¡±


    ¡°Like it?¡± I echoed, stepping over to hug her tightly despite myself. She gave an eep of surprise and then returned it with a giggle. ¡°It¡¯s amazing, Wren. I mean damn. This is ridiculous. Come on, let¡¯s see¡­¡±


    Letting her go, I stepped over, lifting my foot to press it against the nearby wall. Then I lifted the other foot and put it against the wall too. Sure enough, I just sort of¡­ stood there, sideways, with my feet against the wall. It was kind of disorienting, but not hard at all. There was a brief twisting sensation in my stomach as my own personal gravity reoriented, but nothing too bad. After that, it was just like Wren said, I felt as though I was standing upright on the ground.


    Standing like that for a few seconds, I started walking up the wall. Whistling casually, I walked all the way to the ceiling, put my foot up to that, took a breath, and then put my other foot up. That twisting sensation came back as my stomach briefly protested gravity adjusting the way it did, before I was suddenly crouching against the ceiling. Crouching against the ceiling with no paint. Holy shit. Holy shit. This was¡­


    From below, Wren called, ¡°You can jump to get down, but be careful!¡±


    Taking her advice, I pushed off with both feet. Gravity swung up and around into the proper position again, and I felt a rush while flipping over. I didn¡¯t exactly land completely smoothly, stumbling a bit to the side. But still, it was pretty good.


    Popping back upright, I grinned. ¡°See, I knew partnering with you was gonna be awesome. I just didn¡¯t know it was gonna be this awesome this quick.¡± I was smiling broadly like a goofy idiot. She was right, I¡¯d be able to move around as Paintball a lot more easily like this, traveling the way I liked to without using up red paint to stick to walls. That would free up paint for a lot more things.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna make more!¡± Wren promised quickly. ¡°More fun things that¡¯ll be even better for you, I swear. I¡¯ve got lots of ideas, and I think you¡¯ll really like them. But they take time and work and stuff. But I¨C¡±


    Stepping that way, I embraced the girl. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Wren. These are amazing. Seriously, thanks. Every bit of paint I save from not having to use it to stick to walls will be paint I can use other ways, to help people. I can move faster like this. You¡¯re amazing, and so are these.¡±


    ¡°Superkid¡¯s right,¡± Fred put in. ¡°You did good work. But you know the rules, what we said.¡±


    She nodded, glancing to me, ¡°Gotta do homework, not just fun work.¡±


    Chuckling, I rubbed the top of her head. ¡°Good. I¡¯ve got things to do too. But I¡¯ll put these things through their paces, I¡¯ll tell you that much. Thanks for making these so fast, Wren.


    ¡°Something tells me they¡¯re gonna come in handy real soon.¡±


    *****


    Of course, hopefully that real soon wouldn¡¯t apply to tonight. Because it was time to go to Amber¡¯s party. I changed into my street clothes before stopping by the mall on the way back to look for a present that she might like. In the end, I grabbed her some new AirPods and an iPad that I thought she¡¯d like, along with a box of chocolate candy, and had them all wrapped there.


    Yeah, part of me still felt bad about using what was obviously dirty money from my parents to buy gifts for some girl at school. But the truth was that that money was already there. Whatever had been done to get it was over. It wasn¡¯t like ignoring it would make whatever bad things that happened to get it just¡­ disappear. Making my parents contribute to some random girl¡¯s birthday was a hell of a lot better than a lot of other ways the money could be spent.


    Besides, if I didn¡¯t spend money to buy Amber a present, it would look awfully strange at this point. Mom and Dad knew we were going to a party, knew Amber was a close enough friend that we¡¯d brought her home to see that movie, and so on. If they noticed me not buying her something nice, it¡¯d attract attention.


    All of which were things I told myself repeatedly while picking out those gifts. It didn¡¯t help entirely erase the guilt about that whole situation, but it was something.


    Catching an Uber ride home, I found Izzy and the two of us headed out to where Jefferson, the driver, was waiting. He led us to Henlein (Jefferson¡¯s favorite black BMW, named after the guy who invented the watch), and we were off.


    On the way, I glanced to the girl beside me. ¡°Here.¡± I offered her the package with the AirPods. ¡°Those can be from you.¡±


    Blinking in surprise, she looked at me with a frown. ¡°But I didn¡¯t help¨CI mean I never¨CI didn¡¯t even¡­ what?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I assured her. ¡°Just help me with something now and then and we¡¯re totally even. I mean, technically my parents bought the gifts, so you might as well get as much credit as I do for one of them.¡± With a wink, I glanced out the window to watch as we passed other cars on the road, adding, ¡°Oh, that reminds me, Dad said I should give you your allowance card. He said as long as you¡¯re living with us, you should get the same benefits Simon and me do.¡±


    ¡°Um. Allowance card?¡± The other girl was clearly baffled. ¡°What¡¯s an allowance card?¡±


    Digging into my pocket, I came out with the thing, handing it over. It was a debit card with her name on it. ¡°Dad said he¡¯s starting you out with a thousand a week, but if you end up needing¨C¡±


    ¡°A thauuuuuwhat?!¡± Izzy blurted, jerking in her seat as she dropped the card as if it had burned her. ¡°What? A what¨Che¡¯s giving a¨Cwhat?¡±


    Reaching down, I plucked up the card, holding it out to her again. She eyed it like it might be a snake. ¡°A thousand a week. You should be able to get whatever you need with that, but like I said, if you need more, Dad¡¯s usually good with fudging it and adding extra to the account.¡±


    Now she was staring at me like I¡¯d grown three extra heads. ¡°Why would I need more than a thousand a week? What¨Chow do you¨Cwhat bills do you even have?!¡±


    First I giggled reflexively at her reaction, ignoring the pit in my stomach. How bad was it to get Izzy involved in this whole thing by handing her dirty money? But as with the whole gift thing, Mom and Dad would really notice if I didn¡¯t give her the debit card and tell her about the allowance. Then I¡¯d have a lot more questions to answer. I had to act like the money didn¡¯t bother me.


    Again of course, giving it to Izzy was another way of putting at least a little bit of that dirty money to better use. Even if it was just like bailing water out of a sinking boat with a teaspoon.


    ¡°Just have fun with it tonight,¡± I urged. ¡°Play whatever games you want. Buy games for other people too. It¡¯ll be great.¡±


    Izzy was still staring at me open-mouthed, as I put the card back in her hand. ¡°I guess so¡­ all this stuff is¡­ you know how weird this is, right? That¡¯s a lot of money for most people.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± Looking back to her, I replied, ¡°I mean, not personally, but I kinda get it. But seriously, it¡¯s okay. If this freaks you out, you should see where Dad wants to take us for vacation next time.¡±


    Flatly, the other girl replied, ¡°Right now, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the answer was Mars.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± I retorted with a grin.


    ¡°Like he¡¯d take us to the same place two years in a row.¡±

 Private Affairs 9-04

    It definitely wasn¡¯t hard to have fun at this party. Amber (or her mother, rather) had seriously gone all out for it. And I knew why. A little over a year earlier was when Amber¡¯s father had been killed by that hit-and-run driver. So, obviously, Amber hadn¡¯t really been in much of a birthday party mood when her sweet sixteen came around. This whole thing was probably her mother¡¯s way of trying to make up for that and help her daughter move on or something.


    The point was, there was definitely effort put into this, and it showed. The whole place had been rented out. There were batting cages, go-karts, bowling, a full arcade area with several VR stations, a room for laser tag, and so on. I knew I wasn¡¯t the best judge as far as money went, but renting this whole place out had to cost a fair bit, right? Especially on a Saturday night.


    There were also a lot of people here. It felt like a good portion of our grade had shown up, along with some other members of Amber¡¯s family and maybe some from other schools or something. Lots of other teenagers running around, yelling to one another and visiting with the birthday girl herself. She was super-busy the whole night. I hoped she was having a good time herself. She seemed to be, it was just that every time I looked that way, she had a whole crowd of people around her.


    So yeah, it was impressive. And just a lot of fun in general. I spent a couple hours completely mostly forgetting about everything else while focusing on using the camera that Amber¡¯s mother provided to take pictures of everyone to use as reference for the drawings later. I even saw Izzy enjoying herself. She seemed to get along with Amber, Jae, and the others pretty well, whenever they interacted. Izzy still didn¡¯t talk very often, and she wasn¡¯t doing much, if anything, with the debit card I¡¯d handed her. But she was definitely having a good time, and that was the important part.


    Also, Jae was really good at the go-karts. Like, crazy good. As I stepped out of my own kart after she beat me in a best two-out-of-three contest (I was debating about whether to go for best three-out-of-five or something), I glanced that way to the other girl getting out of hers. ¡°Where the heck did you learn to race karts like that? Are you an Indianapolis 500 driver in disguise and you¡¯ve just been playing us this whole time?¡± Pointing at her, I fake-demanded, ¡°Are there cameras around here watching me get schooled by a stunt driver?¡±


    With a faint but visible smile, Jae shook her head. She took the helmet off and reached out to set it back on the rack before looking to me once more. Her voice was soft. ¡°Lots of Mario Kart?¡±


    ¡°Aha!¡± I pointed at her. ¡°I knew you were a ringer. I demand a new challenge at the ping pong table, where I may reclaim my lost honor, or something.¡± Dramatically moving my finger from the girl herself to the arcade room, I added a bit more casually, ¡°But first, we grab more pizza?¡±


    She agreed, and the two of us moved to the room where the food was. There were several long tables laid out with basically all the junk food in the world on them. Finding some pizza, we loaded a couple plates. As we were finishing with that and stepping away, food in hand, Jae looked past me. Immediately, I saw the expression on her face go from casually happy and enjoying herself to incredibly guarded. It was like she¡¯d flipped a switch and was closed off.


    Confused, I glanced over my shoulder and immediately understood her reaction. Standing there, staring at both of us with a small smirk on her face, was Elesha Carver. She was a black girl from our school, and I was pretty sure she was basically to Jae what Paige was to me.


    Okay, maybe not exactly the same. At the very least, I was really hoping Elesha wouldn¡¯t also turn out to have some unexplained immunity to memory erasing, and be holding onto secret information that she refused to share but could potentially take down an entire underworld criminal empire. Because that kind of coincidence at this point would just be silly.


    But she was definitely a bitch. Which was a fact she proved an instant after opening her mouth, with a sly, ¡°Heeeey, Jae. I¡¯ve got a great idea. Why don¡¯t we string you up to the ceiling and then bounce strobe lights off your skin. You¡¯d make a great party decoration, you know?¡±


    My mouth opened as several not-so-polite retorts leapt to mind (as well as the urge to punch her), but before I could say anything, another voice spoke. ¡°Out of curiosity, exactly what level of lack of self-awareness does a black person have to have to talk about stringing someone up?¡±


    It was Paige, speak of the devil. She wasn¡¯t paying any attention to me. She might not have even noticed me, to be honest. All of her focus was solely on Elesha, as she continued with a flat, ¡°I mean, there¡¯s being a completely incomprehensible moron, and then there¡¯s being stupid enough to be black and mock someone for their fucking skin color, you ludicrous twat.¡±


    Was this a bad time for me to speak up and say something about how it was equally stupid to hate (and spend years mocking) someone for being short and not fitting some classical idea of adult beauty? Because I felt like that was a really good opening for it. But I resisted, because this wasn¡¯t about me. It was about making sure Jae¡¯s night didn¡¯t get ruined by this bitch.


    ¡°You know what?¡± Elesha was retorting, ¡°Fuck you. At least I¡¯m not some kind of freak.¡± She said that, of course, while giving Jae a disgusted look, her mouth twisting hatefully in a way that made her look even nastier than she already had. ¡°I¡¯m not a mutant albino walking abortion.¡±


    ¡°You know what else you¡¯re not?¡± That was Amber, having extricated herself to come up from behind the other girl while she was talking. ¡°Invited. As in you were never invited here.¡±


    I could see by the expression on Elesha¡¯s face that she¡¯d already realized she¡¯d made a mistake by picking this argument right now. But, of course, she didn¡¯t back down. Shooting a glare toward Amber, she retorted a bit heatedly, ¡°You invited everybody, remember? You put those invitations up all over the goddamn school. I¡¯m pretty sure one of the fucking janitors is here.¡±


    ¡°The janitors are cool,¡± Amber informed her. ¡°And if you¡¯ll take a quick look at any of those invitations, you¡¯ll see that it says quite plainly, ¡®All People Welcome.¡¯ You, you¡¯re not a person. You¡¯re basically mucus, and I don¡¯t want mucus at my party. It¡¯s gross. So why don¡¯t you leave?¡±


    For just a moment, I had the terrible feeling that a fight was going to break out. I had no idea what Amber would even do if Elesha took a swing at her, to be honest. Actually, I didn¡¯t know what I would do if someone took a swing at me in here. I couldn¡¯t exactly use my powers like I would in costume. I could paint the skin under my clothes and be careful about how obvious I was with the boosts, but even that felt risky. Honestly, the safest thing to do if something did start would probably be to let myself get hit, then just drop to the floor and stay there.


    In the end, I never did get to find out if Elesha would have backed off or not. Because just as this whole situation seemed to be right on the cusp of boiling over, someone called out from the far side of the large room, by the televisions, ¡°Hey! Hey, shut the fuck up, it¡¯s a Collision Point!¡±


    That immediately shut down everything else that was going on. Everyone turned away from what they were doing. And I did mean everyone. The entire room grew completely silent, save for the televisions as we all moved closer. They were already changing the channel to match the one that the middle one was on, a channel that showed a serious-looking anchor talking.


    ¡°Where?¡± Amber asked quietly, stepping up beside me while staring intently at the screen. ¡°It¡¯s not¡­?¡± She didn¡¯t finish that sentence, trailing off instead. But we all knew what she had been about to say right then. Here. She had been about to ask if it was happening here in Detroit.


    Someone else, I wasn¡¯t sure who, answered with, ¡°Not here. Not this time. It¡¯s Salt Lake City.¡±


    Sure enough, the anchor had a picture of Utah projected beside him, with a marker showing where Salt Lake was as he said something about the Collision Point starting near a library.


    ¡°Anyone know if they¡¯re dealing with Stalkers, Wanderers, or Hidden?¡± Paige asked from somewhere behind me. I still didn¡¯t know if she¡¯d even noticed my presence yet.


    In answer, the guy who had called everyone over replied, ¡°It¡¯s Hollow and Grote Slang.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°One Hidden, one Stalker,¡± someone noted. ¡°At least it¡¯s not two Stalkers. They¡¯re the worst.¡±


    Yeah, they were probably right. Two Stalkers hitting a Collision Point was bad. All Collision Points were bad, regardless. But those were bad on a whole other level.


    Collision Points. That¡¯s what we called it when two Abyssals ran into each other and started a fight. See, when an Abyssal first¡­ manifested or whatever, they were stuck in a single monstrous form. It was usually pretty big, between ten to twenty feet or so, and looked distinctly not human. That was what a lot of people had thought Cu¨¦lebre was at first, a new Abyssal.  They had no real intelligence at that point and just attacked everything around them. Which was also how people figured out that Cu¨¦lebre couldn¡¯t be a new Abyssal, because he definitely had control. New Abyssals lashed out at everything and tried to do as much damage as they could.


    But it was worse if they managed to survive long enough to evolve to the second stage. First of all, second-stage Abyssals shifted back into a mostly or even entirely human-looking form. Some people said it was to recharge or something, but no one really knew. They simply went from being giant monsters down to looking like they had before their initial transformation.


    That was where the three classifications came in. Stalker, Wanderer, or Hidden. Stalkers were those who actively remembered what they were, liked it, and hunted for others of their kind. Wanderers were those kind of in the middle, the ones who had vague ideas or recollections, maybe dreams about doing bad things. They tended to¡­ well, wander. They were drifters who went from town to town, simply staying on the move. According to a couple rare interviews that had been taken from a coherent Wanderer or two, they always felt the urge to keep going. It was like they were being pushed to look for something, but they had no idea what.


    Yeah, while Stalkers were actively malevolent and often did their best to hurt and kill people even in their human form, Wanderers could sometimes actually be spoken to, if you happened to know what they were. There were recorded interviews with Wanderers, who always just seemed¡­ pretty out of it, like they barely understood what was going on. A lot of people dismissed them as mentally handicapped. Which hadn¡¯t exactly done wonders for how actual mentally handicapped people were seen, that was for sure. They always spoke in a slow, somewhat dream-like voice, like they were partially in a trance.


    Then there were the Hidden. Those were the people who had absolutely no idea what they were. They went about their lives completely oblivious to the fact that they could transform into a huge monster at any given moment.


    The Hidden went about their lives as normal as possible. The Wanderers¡­ wandered, drifting from place to place in their endless and unexplained search for whatever they were looking for. And Stalkers tried to locate any of their kind so they could trigger a fight.


    Because yeah, that¡¯s what they did. Abyssals, when they encountered one another, fought. When two second-stage humanoid Abyssals touched one another, they would transform into their monster selves. Then they would set about doing their level best to completely fucking massacre each other. There was no love between any of them, no cooperation. There was nothing but violence and death, as they would hurl themselves at one another, doing everything they could to kill not just the other Abyssal, but anything that happened to get in their way.


    That was what we called a Collision Point. Two or more Abyssals who found one another, touched, and turned into huge (sometimes gigantic) monsters intent on beating the living shit out of each other, even if they had to rip apart buildings and massacre dozens or even hundreds to do it. At that point, they would fight either until one of them killed and absorbed the other (which basically seemed to make the winner take on some of the loser¡¯s traits and powers while getting even bigger), or until something  (like a local Touched team) forced them to withdraw from each other.


    So yeah, to put it simply, Collision Points weren¡¯t fun. They usually ended up with a lot of damage being done to the city they happened in, as the dueling Abyssals threw around absurd levels of destruction in their attempts to kill one another. Even Wanderers and Hidden, once shifted into their Abyssal forms, turned basically completely rabid and tried to destroy or kill everything between them and their opponent.


    Once enough damage was done by other Touched, or one of them managed to kill and absorb the other, the fight would be over. Once that happened, any of the surviving Abyssals would simply disappear. The¡­ understanding was that they were transported somewhere else and returned to their human forms. Wanderers resumed their old mental state, while Hidden completely forgot what they had just been doing. Or maybe they had false memories. It wasn¡¯t clear, and it was pretty hard to get that kind of information. There had been one short interview with a Hidden Abyssal who managed to be captured and locked up, but it wasn¡¯t very enlightening. And he had vanished pretty soon after that brief discussion.


    Pencil, of course, was the leader of the Scions of Typhon. Typhon was a Stalker Abyssal, one of the largest, most violent, and most¡­ successful in North America. He had killed and absorbed multiple other strong Abyssals. In one such fight, he¡¯d basically leveled the majority of Waunakee, a small town in Wisconsin. A third of their roughly fifteen thousand residents were killed in that, while almost all of their buildings ended up uninhabitable. It was¡­ bad. A lot of these Collision Points were bad.


    That was why no one was playing any more games or arguing. We all stood there, watching the news in silence as they showed footage of the local Utah Touched teams trying to deal with Hollow and Grote Slang before too much damage was done.


    Of the two, Hollow was the small one. She was pretty tiny, as far as Abyssals went, standing ¡®only¡¯ about eight feet tall. She was fairly humanoid too, though her skin was pitch black and oily. Really, her entire body seemed to be made of oil shaped like a person. She had only vague facial features, impressions where her eyes should have been. And she didn¡¯t have permanent arms. Instead, any number of arms would extend from any point of her body whenever she happened to need them.


    Grote Slang, on the other hand, was far different. He was one of the bigger Abyssals, and definitely not humanoid. In his monster-form, he was basically a giant snake. And by giant, that was a snake a hundred feet long and as wide around as a city bus. Wicked-looking tusks came out of the snake¡¯s mouth, curving up with venom dripping from them. Worse, he had two actual trunks, like an elephant¡¯s, one leading off of each side of his head. The trunks were about a third as long as his body but could stretch to about half, and were used to grab prey and drag them up to his mouth.


    Yeah, like his mythological counterpart, Grote Slang was basically a cross between an elephant and a giant snake. It was bad. Really bad.


    We all watched on those screens as the news reported on the ongoing fight. None of the other guests tried to play any games or anything. We just watched as the Touched tried to stop too much damage from being done. They were¡­ about as successful as they could be. Several full buildings and houses were still either heavily damaged or outright demolished, and a couple city blocks weren¡¯t going to be safe to live in anytime soon. But the authorities reacted quickly enough and managed to get somewhat lucky in separating the two and doing enough damage to make them pull back. Didn¡¯t kill either of them, but they at least managed to stop things from getting a lot worse than they could have.


    At some point in all that, Izzy had found me. We stood there together and I had ended up taking her hand without really thinking about it. Once it was over, I glanced down, then looked over to where she was still staring at the television. ¡°Sorry, we didn¡¯t have to¡­ watch all that. Are you okay?¡±


    Her head nodded slowly. ¡°I wanted to,¡± she assured me quietly. ¡°And yeah, I¡¯m okay.¡± Strangely, she did sound okay. She didn¡¯t seem too freaked out by all that.


    Glancing nearby, I could see Amber¡¯s mom talking to her. It looked like this whole thing was about to be closed down for the night. Which was just as well. After watching all that on the news, it was clear that people weren¡¯t just going to jump right back into playing games. Yeah, it had been almost two thousand miles away on the other side of the continent. And yes, they¡¯d managed to contain things before too much damage was done. But even in that near-best case scenario, at least a few dozen people had still died. They wouldn¡¯t have a real count until tomorrow, at the very least. Still, it wasn¡¯t great.


    Abyssals were bad. When they found each other, bad things happened. Buildings and sometimes entire swaths of land were destroyed. Lots of people died. It was horrific.


    And after watching something like that, even on the news from so far away, well¡­ a lot of people didn¡¯t feel like partying anymore. This sort of thing happened every once in awhile. Sometimes it was better and sometimes it was worse. But it was never good.


    Some of us stayed, mostly talking about either the attack or other attacks. A few drifted off to try to distract themselves with other games. From the corner of my eye, I saw Paige glance down at her phone. An annoyed look crossed her face before she turned and walked away, heading for the restroom corridor. With a quick look around to make sure no one was paying attention, I slipped away too, trying to follow her without being noticed.


    Reaching the area where the bathrooms were, I saw Paige step inside the women¡¯s restroom. I carefully moved closer, stopping right next to the door. Through the crack, I could hear her talking.


    ¡°Yeah, behind the library on Woodward, got it. I said I got it. When? And you better be exact, Pat, because my father¡¯s contact windows are narrow. Specific coordinates, specific times.¡±


    Wait, what? What was she talking about? Paige¡¯s mother and father were right here in the city. She talked to them every day. So¡­ huh?


    The other girl continued. ¡°I¡¯ll be there. Yes, I know. Three hours and six minutes. Yeah, something tells me complaining about how late it is wouldn¡¯t do much good.


    ¡°After all, Breakwater¡¯s an inescapable super-prison. It¡¯s supposed to be hard to call out of.¡±

 Private Affairs 9-05

    The sound of footsteps coming from inside the restroom kicked me into high gear. Quickly, I moved past the door and stepped to the far side of a vending machine there, pressing myself up against the wall to be out of sight. There, I listened to the sound of the restroom door opening, then Paige¡¯s footsteps crisply moving away as she walked back to join the rest of the party.


    Which left me standing there by myself, silently digesting what I had heard a moment earlier.


    And what the fuck did I hear? No, really, what the fuck did I hear? Paige¡¯s dad was in Breakwater? As in the inescapable prison for Fell-Touched?! No, he wasn¡¯t! He wasn¡¯t! He was right here in Detroit! I knew he was right here in Detroit, damn it. I saw him at the club every once in awhile. How could he be in Breakwater? If Amos Banners had ended up A: being a supervillain and B: going to the most infamous prison for supervillains in the world, I¡¯m pretty sure I would¡¯ve known.


    Well, okay, they actually didn¡¯t always unmask supervillains who went to Breakwater. Correction, they didn¡¯t always publicly unmask them. That was done to protect their families from retaliation by angry victims or families of victims who wanted someone else to blame and strike back against for their pain. Still, he couldn¡¯t be in Breakwater because he was here in Detroit.


    Unless the man I knew as Paige¡¯s father wasn¡¯t really? That didn¡¯t make sense, I¡¯d never heard anything about her being adopted or anything, and I¡¯d known her since middle school.


    That was dumb. Of course Paige could be adopted without me knowing about it. Kids were adopted younger than that all the time, yet¡­ yet¡­ how could this make any sense? It obviously had something to do with how she knew about my family, and how much she knew. But there were still so many pieces I just didn¡¯t have. It was impossible to figure out how it all fit together. I needed to find out more about all this first.


    The library. I had to go to the library tonight. In three hours and¨C I checked my phone. Three hours and four minutes, apparently. If I wanted to have any idea of how this all fit together, I had to be there when Paige would apparently talk to her father, who was on Breakwater. The fuck?


    Okay, right now I had to get back to the party before I was missed. But I also had to get home with Izzy soon enough that I could sneak back out again to get to that library. Without raising any questions from either Izzy herself or my parents. Or from Amber, come to think of it.


    At least there was plenty of time, so I didn¡¯t have to rush anything. The party should be over long before three more hours had passed. So, I did my best to just¡­ focus on the party, hard as that was. There were so many things going through my head that I lost several games of air hockey to Izzy, only managing to focus and win one at the end. Still, she had the most wins, and Amber gave her a high five after laughing at me. ¡°Dude,¡± she announced after taking a sip from her soda, ¡°if we ever do a tournament like we did that one time, this kid¡¯s totally gonna be on my team.¡±


    ¡°No way,¡± I retorted. ¡°She¡¯s living with us. Hell, she¡¯s living practically next to my room. I get dibs on people living close enough to hear me snore. That¡¯s gotta be in a rulebook somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Which is it, next to your room or close enough to hear you snore?¡± That was Damarko, stepping over to join us. ¡°Because from the look of your house, your bedroom is probably like¡­ the size of all this.¡± He gestured around the arcade room we were all standing in. ¡°I bet you actually could be in the same room and not hear someone shout from one end to the other.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that big,¡± I insisted before looking to where Izzy was squinting at me. ¡°What? It¡¯s really not!¡± The tips of my ears felt a little warm, and I added a mumbled, ¡°I didn¡¯t say it wasn¡¯t close.¡±


    I let Damarko take a shot at Izzy, and she beat him too. Which made me feel a bit better. Amber stayed close too, and Jae came by. We talked about what happened in Utah, and some other attacks we remembered while taking turns with the hockey table. Izzy didn¡¯t win every game, and we definitely weren¡¯t just letting her win. But she won enough that it was clear she really was that good at it. It was, considering both the fact that everyone was still digesting the new Collision Point, and my own distraction about this whole Paige thing, still a pretty fun time.


    About forty minutes later, things were really winding down even more than they already had after the news about Utah. Izzy had been yawning a few times, and I used that as an excuse to speak up. ¡°Right, we don¡¯t want to turn into a couple pumpkins by staying out too late. Thanks for the party, Amber.¡±


    She actually embraced me. ¡°Hey, thank you guys. Those are awesome¡­ okay, completely ridiculous and absurd presents. Still, I knew making friends with you would pay off eventually.¡± Winking, she then embraced Izzy, taking a second to whisper something in her ear that actually seemed to make the younger girl smile for a moment. It was pretty cool, how well Izzy already got along with the others despite barely knowing them.


    We said some more farewells, while I made the call to Jefferson for a pick-up. I knew it was just for show, my family¡¯s people had to be watching this place like hawks to make sure nothing happened while Izzy was here just like Simon¡¯s friends had followed us around the mall. So they¡¯d know the second we stepped out. Still, I wasn¡¯t supposed to know that, so I called, and Jefferson had Henlein waiting right out by the curb for us by the time we walked out a few minutes later. I didn¡¯t see anyone watching as we got in, but that was probably the point.


    So, we were driven home. I watched Izzy stare out the window for awhile before asking, ¡°You okay? I know you didn¡¯t really know anyone there except for that one time meeting Amber and the others for the movie, but I guess you made a good impression because she thought you were pretty cool. Then that¡­ the news came in and¡­¡± I trailed off uncertainly, watching her.


    She turned, glancing to me before offering a smile. ¡°I had fun, thanks. It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s definitely a lot,¡± I agreed. ¡°But hey, imagine how crazy her eighteenth birthday is gonna be. She¡¯ll probably rent out a whole theme park. They might have to call in the cops.¡±


    Izzy snickered a little, and the sound made me smile. We talked a bit more on the way back, but it was clear she was too tired to really carry on for much longer. Once home, we had a brief conversation with my dad (Mom was apparently already in bed) in the hall before heading up. There, I let Izzy use the shower first, and the poor kid was practically asleep by the time she was done, as she trudged to her bed and basically fell in. I covered her with the blanket and watched for a second, asking myself for about the millionth time just what could have happened to put her in our house like this. Then I quietly backed out and closed the door behind me.


    ¡°Long night, huh?¡± That was my dad again, his voice making me jump as the door clicked shut.


    ¡°Wha¨Coh, oh.¡± Flushing a little, I gestured while keeping my voice low. ¡°Yeah, long night. You um¡­ you heard about Utah, I guess? Don¡¯t you have a building there somewhere?¡± I tried to keep my tone as casual as possible, like it had just occurred to me. Which was easy, considering it actually had. Okay, not just. I remembered on the way home, but still.


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    ¡°Good memory, kid,¡± Dad replied with a smile, beckoning me away from the door so we wouldn¡¯t wake up Izzy. The two of us moved down the hall a bit, as he confirmed, ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got a building in the area, but nowhere near where the attack happened. I¡­¡± Pausing, he looked to me. ¡°What about you? You don¡¯t know anyone who lives there, do you? Any online friends?¡±


    Shaking my head, I murmured, ¡°Nope. But umm¡­ but still, seeing it on the news like that, are those people gonna be okay?¡± I swallowed hard, adding, ¡°The ones who are still alive, I mean.¡±


    In response, Dad reached out, pulling me into a hug that I returned despite my complicated feelings. Part of him disgusted me, horrified me. He¡¯d been okay with killing a teenage girl. More than one teenager, actually. And the casual way he¡¯d mentioned it made me realize that it wasn¡¯t the first time things had gone that far. Not to mention all the others he¡¯d clearly killed. He was a monster, a villain, a psychopath who somehow seemed to run basically the entire Detroit criminal world.


    Yet, he was my father. He was my daddy. I¡¯d always gone to him when I had trouble. He and Mom were my everything. They were my parents. What was I supposed to do when I couldn¡¯t trust my parents? What was anyone supposed to do when they couldn¡¯t trust their parents?


    Dad dismissed himself after another moment, making me promise to go to bed soon. Which, I supposed was a promise I was just going to have to break immediately. But given that the fact that he basically killed people for a living and got rich off running the entire criminal underworld, I was going to count myself as being pretty much in the clear as far as our moral points went.


    Anyway, I was left alone, so I took the bag with my costume out from its hiding place beneath the floor under the mirror and made sure the door was shut. Then I slipped out through my open window onto the balcony. Checking around to make sure I had the timing of the cameras and the guards right, I took a breath, then jumped down while using orange and black paint to land soundlessly and painlessly. From there, I quickly left the grounds and headed on my way to find the library where Paige was supposed to be in¡­ right, one hour. I had one hour left to get to the library.


    Whatever ended up happening there, this was almost certainly going to be an interesting night.


    ********


    So, it turned out that using these upgraded shoes of mine made traveling across the city a hell of a lot faster and more convenient. Which I¡¯d assumed from the start, but it was still pretty incredible. Just the fact that I didn¡¯t have to spend paint on sticking to things freed it up for other uses. Basically, it just sped up my entire process. I ran along the side of a building without thinking about exactly how much paint I had left. I used red paint to yank myself to the next building, but didn¡¯t have to immediately use a line of the stuff to keep running. I just¡­ ran. Or skated, in that case.


    And the fact that it shifted my gravity with me no matter which direction I was facing helped almost as much as the whole sticking to things bit did. No matter which way I was oriented, my body acted like I was right-side up on the ground as soon as my feet touched a surface. That was seriously huge. Unbelievably huge. I could run and skate upside down under bridges, along the bottom or sides of billboards, whatever. It didn¡¯t matter. Saving red paint for only needing to pull myself to places or whatever meant I was just¡­ so much faster at all this. I may actually have squealed and shouted with joy for a little bit there when I was first getting into it, and figuring out how to adjust to that whole thing. So sue me, it was fun. Jumping from the roof of one building, using red paint to yank myself a good hundred feet to the side before landing with feet against the wall of another building, then just running flat out along it before using blue paint to bounce to a third building, popping my skates out on the way and then rolling along that one sideways as easily as if it was flat ground? All without actually using the red paint the way I would¡¯ve had to before to keep myself up there?


    Yeah, Wren did good work. I really needed to give that kid a hug, that was for sure. She was awesome. This was awesome. And it was a great distraction away from what I was actually supposed to be doing out here. For a few minutes, anyway.


    The library, of course, was closed at this hour. I got there pretty early given my newfound quicker traveling ability, landing on the roof after taking a long leap off a nearby office tower and red-painting my way to the exact spot I wanted. The library building itself was old Italian Renaissance style and was something like a hundred years old. Of course, it had been remodeled and upgraded over the past century, particularly in the last couple decades with the emergence and rise of superpowered criminals and fights. The library, like most places in Detroit, had taken its share of knocks.


    There was a small memorial garden with a fountain that was supposed to commemorate one of the other libraries and the three employees within it who had died like eighteen years ago during one of the early Collision Points, before anyone really knew anything about what they were.


    Paige¡¯s meeting place was down in that garden. I saw her arrive, walking crisply down the sidewalk in front of the library before turning onto the cobblestone path up to the garden. The whole way, she was looking around herself, clearly alert and suspicious of anything untoward. If I wanted to actually find out what was going on, I would have to make sure she didn¡¯t see me.


    So, I stayed low, listening to the sound of her footsteps as she walked right up to the fountain. There, she stood around for the next couple minutes. Carefully checking my phone, I counted down the time. It was kind of weird that Paige still didn¡¯t have any bodyguards or anything, right? Weird that she was out here in the middle of the night to have a phone conversation with her¡­ supposed father, who was in Breakwater, while the people I thought were her parents were just¡­ apparently at home and didn¡¯t know enough about any of this to send bodyguards with¨COkay, yeah, this entire situation was positively fucking weird, it definitely wasn¡¯t just me.


    My musings about all that were interrupted by the sound of a cell phone ringing softly. Peeking over the edge of the roof, I saw Paige take the phone not from her pocket, but from a spot near the base of the fountain where it had apparently been hidden. Also didn¡¯t look like an ordinary cell phone. At least not a current one. The thing looked almost more like a walkie talkie-type radio. It was¨Coh wait, I knew what that was. I¡¯d seen Dad use them. It was a satellite phone. Which made sense, if her¡­ ¡®dad¡¯ was calling from Breakwater, as impossible as that was.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here.¡± That was how Paige answered the phone, in a flat voice. So, I clearly wasn¡¯t the only person she was abrasive to. And this was, apparently, her real father. Or something.


    She continued a second later, after listening briefly. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m alone, Dad. Yes. I know, I get it. I can¡¯t help it if the people you sold me to aren¡¯t as together as you thought they were.¡±


    Wait, wait. People he ¡®sold her to?¡¯ What the fuck? No, really, what the fuck was going on? What was she talking about? What did any of this mean? The people I¡¯d thought were her parents had bought her? Bought a girl, and her father was on Breakwater? How did that even¡­ what?!


    ¡°No,¡± Paige was saying, ¡°the Ministry doesn¡¯t know that much. If they did, they wouldn¡¯t have tried to have me killed like that.¡±


    Okay, Ministry. I heard the capital M in that. And she said they were the ones who tried to kill her. So that had to be my parents¡¯ group, right? Was that the official name of it? I could¡­ maybe find out more with that¡­I wasn¡¯t sure how, exactly, but hey, it was more than I¡¯d had a few seconds earlier. At this point, any information was potentially useful. Even if most of it left me with more questions than answers.


    There was silence as Paige apparently listened to the man on the phone before speaking again. ¡°No, they don¡¯t know. They have no idea.¡± A pause, then, ¡°Because if they did, they would have done something more definite than shooting me in the head, that¡¯s why.¡±


    More¡­ definite than shooting her in the head? What the fuck could possibly be more definite than¨C


    ¡°I told you,¡± Paige retorted to something the man on the phone had said, ¡°I¡¯m taking care of it. I¡¯m on it. We just have to be careful. Remember what happened when you rushed things? Yeah, didn¡¯t turn out too well. But you had a back-up plan. Me. Let the back-up plan do its job. They think I¡¯m just some busybody teenager with too much information, a snoopy kid. They don¡¯t know where I came from, Dad, or why I¡¯m really doing this. They probably haven¡¯t even thought about the name Anthony Tate in years.¡±


    Anthony Tate¡­?


    Who the hell was Anthony Tate, and why was that name so familiar?

 Private Affairs 9-06

    Paige didn¡¯t end up saying much else of interest. Mostly it was just things about how she was ¡®working on it¡¯ and that the man she was talking to should give her time and stop being impatient. It didn¡¯t really¡­ sound like she was talking to her father, at least not one she respected or even liked that much. But on the other hand, if he was a supervillain on Breakwater, maybe I could understand that much. In any case, there was definitely something about that whole relationship I was missing. For one thing, what the hell was that about him selling her to her ¡®parents?¡¯ Because just that all by itself raised a hell of a lot of questions.


    Pretty soon she left, heading back to the street and leaving me sitting there lost in thought. My brain was working a million miles an hour in every direction, but I forced it to focus on one thing. The name. The name she¡¯d said, what was it? Tate. Anthony Tate. I knew that name¡­ I knew¡­


    Oh, right. I did know Anthony Tate. All I had to do was think about it for a bit, then I remembered. He was a boy I¡¯d known while I was back in elementary school. I hadn¡¯t really known him very well, because he was homeschooled, but that at least explained why the name was familiar. Though it didn¡¯t really explain why he was important. From what I could remember, I only saw him once in awhile. But he¡¯d moved away when I was in sixth grade, in my first year of middle school. A couple months later, he died in a car accident. I remembered my dad telling me that one of the kids I used to play with had passed away down in¡­ where was it? Texas or something. I was pretty sure it was Texas.


    Anyway, I didn¡¯t remember that much about the kid back then. I remembered being sad about someone I kind of knew dying, but it didn¡¯t feel that real at the time because I barely remembered him. We weren¡¯t close or anything, he was just a boy I saw sometimes.


    But none of that actually answered the question of what was so important about the kid.


    So, perched on the roof of the library, I used my phone to do an internet search. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t see anything about him having a sister who could have been Paige. Both his parents were killed in the accident as well. The three family members were buried together in a cemetery in¡­ yup, I was right, Dallas. Mother, father, and their only son were buried in Dallas, Texas after a drunk driving accident.


    So how did that connect to Paige and this guy she called her father, who happened to be a supervillain imprisoned on Breakwater? How did they know this kid and what did his death in a car accident in Texas have to do with my family here? I was missing something really important, just like the whole thing about the relationship between Paige and her imprisoned father. I had some pieces of this ridiculous puzzle, but not enough to put it together. Not just yet, anyway.


    I was going to have to really look into this Anthony Tate and the rest of his family. Maybe that car accident wasn¡¯t such an accident? At first I¡¯d thought that it might have something to do with the memory that Mr. Jackson had apparently erased, but with the accident happening all the way down in Texas, I wasn¡¯t sure how that could be true. I definitely couldn¡¯t have seen the accident, if it actually was one. And as far as I could tell, it really had happened down there. There were several news reports about it, accident scene photos, everything. So¡­ what then?


    Mom had said that Mr. Jackson removed a traumatic memory. A car accident was bad, but for someone I barely knew? I was probably just trying to tie two independent things (my removed memory and this whole thing about Paige¡¯s secrets) together when they weren¡¯t actually related. Which seemed like a good way to end up getting utterly lost and not figure out anything at all.


    Regardless, the point remained that I had to find out more about this accident. That might help me figure out what Paige¡¯s involvement was¨Cwait. What if her dad was the drunk driver that hit Anthony¡¯s family? Or the guy who was blamed for it, if my family was actually involved. But what did that have to do with Paige? Was she related to him in some way? Wait¨Cshit, duh. Friends. What if they were friends? I hadn¡¯t known Anthony very well, but maybe Paige had. Which¡­ didn¡¯t explain why her father was in prison, unless he¡¯d known the family too. Okay, maybe that was it? Maybe Paige and her father knew Anthony¡¯s family, and when they died in that accident, those two found out my family was involved¡­ somehow? Hell, if they had reach all the way over in Britain, I should probably believe they had reach in Texas too. That made some kind of sense.


    Okay, wait. What if this Anthony kid and his parents found out about my family and took off to protect themselves, but my family got to them anyway even down in Texas. Then Paige and her father found out the truth, and my dad, as Silversmith, had her dad locked up on Breakwater? He probably would¡¯ve had to actually have powers to make that work, but maybe he did. Maybe that¡¯s why he¡¯d been so dangerous, because he knew about my family and had powers, so they sent him to Breakwater. But why not just kill him? Maybe he¡¯d been arrested before they could?


    Yeah, I had an awful lot of ¡®maybes¡¯ in all this. I was speculating too much. And none of that actually explained how my family wouldn¡¯t know what Paige was doing or who she really was. They were the ones with the memory-altering guy. If she was the daughter of some guy who knew about the family business and who had been sent to the supermax Touched prison, I kind of figured they¡¯d keep track of her. So that didn¡¯t actually make much sense either, unfortunately.


    And on top of everything else, I still didn¡¯t know how she was immune to the memory alteration power herself. I had a ten gallon bucket worth of questions and a teaspoon full of possible answers. It wasn¡¯t enough. I had to get more information than I could find out in a simple search.


    But to do that, I had a feeling I might need a little help. Even if it was a risk. And there was one person I could think of who had already proven that I could trust him to keep my secrets.


    *******


    ¡°If this is a trick to arrest a Fell-Touched and prop up your numbers, I¡¯m going to be simultaneously disappointed in you as a person, and impressed at your long-term strategy.¡±


    The words were from Eits, who spoke up about an hour later as I walked up to the bench in a small, out of the way park where he¡¯d said I could meet him to talk. He¡¯d been sitting there in costume, doing something on one of his phones before jumping up as he saw me approach.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I replied dryly, ¡°I don¡¯t usually think that far ahead. Also, I¡¯m pretty sure tricking you into coming out here just to arrest you would end up being bad for me in the long run anyway.¡± Pausing, I tilted my head. ¡°Which, now that I say that out-loud, those first two points kind of counteract each other, don¡¯t they? But uhh, no, seriously, I really do need your help with something. You¡­¡± Hesitantly, I asked, ¡°You did come alone? I know I didn¡¯t say much, but¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m alone, yeah,¡± he assured me. ¡°I mean, for the most part. I kind of told Pack I had something to do, so she¡¯s hanging out with Broadway a couple blocks that way.¡± He gestured to the left. ¡°We were¡­ um, practicing for something when you texted, but we needed a break anyway.¡±


    Blinking twice, I slowly asked, ¡°Eits, did I interrupt you and your criminal friends doing crime?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± he insisted firmly, holding that for a moment longer before relenting with, ¡°Practicing for doing crime, maybe. But not actually doing it. So see, you¡¯re totally in the clear.¡±


    Snorting, I replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s how that works. But I guess it doesn¡¯t matter. This is¡­ bigger. Maybe. I don¡¯t know. I just¨C¡± Stopping as I stared at him, I started to think this might be a bad idea. Involving him in this, even if it was only tangentially related to my family¡­ what if they actually were involved in the Tates¡¯ deaths? What if he found out through his digging, and tried to do something with it? Or what if my parents found out he was digging and went after him? What if I was putting him right in their crosshairs by having him look at this? What if¡­


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    ¡°Hey, Paintball, you okay?¡± Apparently I¡¯d zoned out for a second, as Eits looked worried. Well, as worried as one could look with diagonal bands covering a good part of his face. ¡°You seem pretty freaked out right now. Did umm¡­¡± He paused, glancing around for a second before carefully asking in a quieter voice, ¡°Did someone else find out about you being¡­ you know.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I replied. ¡°It¡¯s not that. I just¡­ I¡¯m looking into something and I could use some help. But it could be dangerous, so I want you to be really careful, okay? Don¡¯t let anyone know what you¡¯re doing. I mean it, Eits. Don¡¯t talk to anyone directly, just use computers, and make sure no one knows what you¡¯re looking for. Erase your tracks when you¡¯re done. Don¡¯t write things down. I¨C¡±


    Holding up both hands, Eits quickly put in, ¡°Hey, hey, I get it. I¡¯ll be careful. But I could probably do a better job of telling you how careful I can be if you tell me what you actually need to know.¡±


    Okay, okay, I could do this. I had to do this. I was going in circles by myself. The only way I was going to get anywhere anytime soon was with his help. I had to take this leap. Exhaling slowly to steady myself, I nodded. ¡°The point is, keep it quiet. But I need you to look into this kid. His name was Anthony Tate. He used to live here in Detroit, but he moved to Dallas about¡­ five years ago or so, then died in a car accident a couple months later. He and both his parents.¡±


    Eits was clearly squinting at me. ¡°Um. Okay, so¡­ far be it from me to ask too many questions about all this, but why do you want to know about some poor kid who died five years ago in an accident a thousand miles away? Did you¡­ did you know him or something? And why now?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say why now,¡± I informed him. ¡°And no, I didn¡¯t know him. I just heard someone important say the name and what I just told you is all I could find out by myself. There¡¯s something going on that I¡¯m looking into and the next step is to find out more about that kid. But like I said, it¡¯s really dangerous. I mean super dangerous, Eits. I¡¯m not kidding. I know you think I¡¯m exaggerating, but I¡¯m not. I shouldn¡¯t have even involved you, I just didn¡¯t know what else to¡­¡± I sighed, long and heavy. ¡°Please be careful, that¡¯s all I¡¯m saying. Look into it quietly.¡±


    To his credit, Eits didn¡¯t dismiss my caution. He watched me for a moment, clearly taking the time to think about his response before giving a short nod. ¡°I get it. I¡¯ll keep it quiet. My little friends can run internet searches a lot faster than I can anyway, without actually letting anyone see what they¡¯re doing. And I¡¯ll delete everything about it, even on my own computers. If this is as big of a deal as you seem to be implying it is, I¡¯ll probably have to look into a few restricted databases, but I¡¯ll make sure to grab a huge chunk of info to pore through so if anyone does happen to notice that the files were accessed, they won¡¯t know exactly what I was looking at.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure that would be good enough, but at this point, I was up against a brick wall. I had to find out more, and if my parents were involved in the deaths of the Tates, I wouldn¡¯t be able to find it myself. Hard as it was, I had to let him help. So, I exhaled once more, trying to let out my own hesitation along with the breath while slowly nodding. ¡°Okay. Oh, and while you¡¯re at it, I need you to look into a couple more things. A couple more people. Only¨Cokay, this is hard to explain. First, I need you to look into this girl. Her name is Paige Banners. She¡¯s seventeen and she goes to¡­ hold on, I wrote it down.¡± Digging into my pocket, I came out with a scrap of paper that I¡¯d prepared ahead of time for this. ¡°Cadillac Preparatory School. I need you to find out if there¡¯s any link between her and this Anthony Tate. And if there¡¯s any link between either of them and any supervillain from either Detroit or Dallas who was sentenced to Breakwater in the past five years and is still alive out there. I know they track that from one of those documentaries, but how?¡±


    He shrugged at the last part. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they use some bracelet or something that¡¯s supposed to keep track of where you are and all your vitals, so they know if you try to escape, and can retrieve your body if you die so it doesn¡¯t just lay there. Which is nice, I guess.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a villain on the island called Potluck,¡± I informed him. ¡°He gets random powers or boosts to powers that he has through eating people who have powers. They don¡¯t want him to get even stronger than he already is. That¡¯s why they retrieve the bodies. Also because eeugh.¡±


    Blanching as he took that in, Eits muttered something clearly disgusted under his breath before looking back to me. ¡°Right, well, got it. I¡¯ll definitely cross Breakwater off my list of potential vacation spots in that case. But let me see if I have this straight. You need to know about the Tate family and how they died, this Paige Banner girl, and any supervillain from Detroit or Dallas who was sent to Breakwater in the past five years? And any connection between all of them.¡±


    ¡°Banners,¡± I corrected. ¡°But yeah, that about sums it up. I know it¡¯s a lot to look into, especially when I¡¯m telling you to keep it quiet and not telling you why I need to know. But I swear, it¡¯s important. And I wouldn¡¯t come to you with it if there was anyone else I could, but, I mean¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Paintball,¡± he put in. ¡°You don¡¯t have to explain. We¡¯re good. I¡¯ll look into it and let you know what I find out, and I¡¯ll be careful doing it. But¡­¡± He trailed off, biting his lip as he stared at the ground before looking back up to me. ¡°But if it¡¯s really this dangerous, then you should be careful too, okay? I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve gotten into, but it sounds like it could be pretty bad. Especially if you¡¯re investigating some Breakwater villain. Don¡¯t go getting yourself in trouble.¡±


    Managing a slight smile that he couldn¡¯t see anyway, I tried to put him at ease by casually replying, ¡°You¡¯re probably just afraid that if I go away, you might have to deal with a hero who¡¯s more competent and doesn¡¯t make these kind of deals with big, bad supervillains like you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s totally it,¡± he agreed with a snort before sobering. ¡°Watch yourself out there, okay? I¡¯ll contact you when I find out anything. Or even if I can¡¯t. But it¡¯ll probably take a few days.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, take your time,¡± I assured him. ¡°Be careful and thorough. I¡¯d rather get the info in a week instead of two days if it means you cover your tracks better. Or however long it takes.¡±


    I thought about telling him about what happened with Hallowed and the Seraphs. But in the end, I decided to keep it to myself. It wasn¡¯t Eits¡¯ fault, after all. Not really. At least until I found out what they wanted me to do at that meeting on Wednesday. Then I¡¯d just¡­ go from there, I supposed.


    So, after making him promise one more time to be careful, I left Eits to go back to his business (while hoping that said business wouldn¡¯t end up being too bad) and made my way home. I changed out of my costume well away from the house, of course, keeping it in my backpack as I snuck past the cameras and up to my window.


    Climbing inside carefully, I switched on the light and immediately saw something wrong. There was someone in my bed. Thinking it might be Izzy, I leaned closer. But the figure wasn¡¯t quite right. Actually, there was¡­ Frowning, I reached out, tugging the blanket down. Pillows. There were two pillows set up under my blanket to look like a figure, and one of my larger dolls that had hair sort of like mine.


    As I was staring at that, there was a quiet knock on the door. My gaze snapped that way in time to see Izzy peek inside. Her voice was very soft. ¡°I wanted to make sure your mom and dad would think you were there if they looked.¡±


    My mouth opened and shut. I dropped the bag and gestured. ¡°Come in, Izzy. What¡­ what do you mean?¡± My throat felt dry.


    She entered hesitantly, closing the door after her. She almost looked ashamed. ¡°I didn¡¯t want you to get in trouble for sneaking out. So I made up your bed like that. Then I thought you might really get in trouble out there, so I stayed up to make sure you got home. I was¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Izzy, you don¡¯t have to be sorry,¡± I quickly assured her. ¡°I just¡­ you¡­ you had a nightmare and I wasn¡¯t here.¡± Staring as the girl gave a hesitant nod, I closed my eyes and felt a rush of shame. ¡°C¡¯mere.¡±


    She came, and I reached out to embrace the younger (yet not really that much smaller) girl tightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t here, Izzy. You¨Cyou couldn¡¯t find me and you still covered for me.¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s what friends are supposed to do, right?¡± she asked, blinking up at me with those wide, emotional eyes.


    ¡°They¡¯re also supposed to be there when you need them, and I wasn¡¯t here for you,¡± I admitted. ¡°I just¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t tell her the truth. ¡°I have to stretch my legs sometimes. I have to get out and just¡­ I mean¨Cnever mind. I¡¯m gonna give you my number so you can call or text me any time, even if I¡¯m not here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a phone,¡± she pointed out quietly, still not letting go of me.


    ¡°Well, then we¡¯ll have to take care of that tomorrow, won¡¯t we?¡± I replied. ¡°And hey, you can even afford it.


    ¡°After all, you do have a pretty good allowance right now.¡±

 Interlude 9A - Breakwater And Patreon Snippets 4

    The island was thirty-six miles long and sixteen miles wide. None of its inhabitants knew exactly where it was located, other than somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Its exact location was a tightly guarded mystery that only a few were actually cleared to know, and there were even multiple false locations and leads put out into the public to muddy the waters. Tech-Touched devices cloaked the island from most satellite detection, and no civilian flights went anywhere near it.


    On the island itself, dozens of buried or otherwise hidden emitters blocked any teleportation or other Travel-Touched powers from being able to carry their users any further than roughly one hundred yards into the ocean. Not that they would want to go further than that, as each of the inhabitants carried somewhere inside them a device that would explode and kill them should they leave the range of those emitters or do anything to hinder them. It was a catch-22. The emitters projected a signal preventing Travel-Touched powers from allowing them to escape, but also prevented their surgically implanted explosives from detonating. A third layer of protection in the system was that the implanted explosives continually projected their own, separate signal to the emitters. If that was disrupted, such as by the removal (or attempted removal) of the device, the emitters would project a debilitating sonic disruption until back-up forces could arrive and secure the offender.


    So, teleporting off the island was impossible because of the emitters. Disrupting the emitters was impossible because of the signal they sent to the implanted explosives. And tampering with the implanted explosives was impossible because of the signal they sent to the emitters. One would have to simultaneously, down to the second, disrupt every emitter within a particular range (which would involve actually finding all of the emitters whose signal overlapped your location, and being willing to risk your life that you were right) and disable the implanted explosive. You would need one person to disable each emitter in range of you at the exact same time that you disabled your implant. And any number of those who did so would die in the process as soon as the emitters were disabled, if no still-active emitters happened to be near them to prevent their bombs from exploding.


    And, of course, simply building a boat and sailing away was not an option when your body would incinerate the moment you weren¡¯t within a football field¡¯s length of the island.


    Many may have considered these measures to be inhumane and overkill. But this was not just any island. It was a prison. And its inhabitants of the island were not just any prisoners. They were the worst, most dangerous and irredeemable Fell-Touched in the world. In certain countries they might have been executed, given the choice. But the international community as a whole frowned on capital punishment. And so this compromise was struck. If those most dangerous Fell-Touched could be captured, they were brought here to be taken out of society¡¯s hands and left to fend for themselves. In some ways it was almost a death sentence in and of itself, given the violence on the island. But putting them there allowed governments to at least say that they did not execute them. While, of course, ensuring that they would die if they ever tried to escape, before they could pose a threat to innocents.


    There was only one official rule on the island, as far as the jailers who left their prisoners on it were concerned. And that one rule was that you never left the island. That was all. Other than that, those who lived on the island were left to their own devices. Some formed small encampments to protect one another or to conduct quick attack raids against others. Some lived entirely on their own. People were split by various divisions including nationality, languages spoken, personal beliefs and prejudices, and many other possibilities. No group on the island was more than roughly twenty people in size. The egos and powers of the people who had been put here could not abide playing nice with more people than that. Larger groups always fractured and split, or simply disintegrated as members attacked and backstabbed one another.


    The authorities did not leave the island¡¯s inhabitants completely without any aid, of course. There were food and other supply drops weekly, both to regular designated locations, and to randomized spots whose location was announced through the island¡¯s intercom system after the drop was made. Those lucky enough to be closest to these randomized drops could move quickly to grab the provided supplies before other prisoners beat them to it. Sometimes those extra drops were truly randomized, while other times they were intended to give a boost to a group who either needed it or whom the guard who chose that spot wanted to see thrive (or simply survive).


    Yes, some of those who monitored the island treated it as what amounted to a reality show for violent supervillains, a game where they could watch the worst of society battle it out with one another. Those people weren¡¯t the majority of those put in a monitoring position, but they did exist. And they took advantage of their position at times to advance their preferred gang.


    Others, of course, held a deep vendetta against one imprisoned villain or another, or even entire groups of them. These tended to direct extra supplies away from those criminals and toward the ones who would attack them. Those types tended to be rooted out by psychological testing earlier on and removed from their positions, but they still existed as well here and there.


    In all, the island was a very violent and unpredictable place, not only because of its inhabitants but also because of the monitors. People died often, and the average life expectancy wasn¡¯t great. But those were considered acceptable conditions for a place that kept these dangerous psychopaths from using their Touched powers to endanger and terrorize more innocent people.


    The Fell-Touched who came here were monsters. Monsters dumped in with monsters to fight and kill one another so that society didn¡¯t have to deal with them anymore. Such was a fact of life on the island known across the world by various names, but in English as Breakwater.


    At this particular moment, it was nighttime. The island was cloaked in darkness save for spots of light created by various fires, torches, and Touched powers. One spot of light in particular came from a large bonfire in the middle of a clearing directly above a waterfall. Around that bonfire sat six figures, each watching the flames in contemplative silence, and a seventh figure who stood a few feet away looking over the falls to watch the water crash down far below.


    The first of the seven figures was a relatively small man (when standing, he reached about five feet, three inches in height), his skin covered in tiny, extremely sharp needle-like spikes that varied randomly in color between black, purple, and gold. His eyes were slightly oversized and contained two separate pupils within each, one red and the other blue. He called himself Pinprick, with the ability to launch and regrow the needles that covered his body. Each color needle possessed a different power. Black took control of things they struck, be that people, animals, or objects. Purple exploded into clouds of damaging acid. Finally, the gold needles did nothing to inanimate objects, but made living beings struck by them intensely ill while feeding that life force back to Pinprick himself to grant him a form of regeneration.


    The real trick to his gift was that any living being struck by at least three needles in short succession would, in turn, find their own skin covered in them for up to ten seconds before they would explode needles in every direction. One of his favorite things, back in the real world, had been to enter a large crowd of people, launch his needles into a large crowd, and watch the ensuing chaos and more and more people who were struck by at least three of them grew needles of their own to launch everywhere, and the entire situation escalated exponentially. It was positively hilarious, and the memory of those days was still enough to make him laugh now and then.


    To Pinprick¡¯s left sat a much taller figure than the first man. So tall, in fact, that even sitting as he was on the ground, the man¡¯s head was still higher than most people were while fully upright. When standing, the man was nearly nine and a half feet. He was also quite thin, for all his height, his skin a very pale and clearly unnatural white. Even more unnaturally, he had no visible face on the front of his head. No eyes, no mouth, no nose. Where his face should have been was nothing but blank skin. Adding the fact that he had no hair, only a bald head that showed off more of that paper-white skin, and the effect was quite eerie indeed.


    This was the villain known as Quell. How he could see, no one knew. And Quell himself wasn¡¯t saying. His own gift allowed him, first of all, to absorb and reuse all sound within his earshot. Any sounds he heard could be retained and then replayed at any point, emanating outward from any part of his body he chose. He could also manipulate those replayed sounds, making them louder or quieter, changing the specific tone or even the voice used for words, and so on.


    Beyond simply absorbing sounds, as his name implied, Quell could also silence them. At will, he could project a field that rendered an entire area silent, sound incapable of existing within it.


    And more than that, the man was also capable of both absorbing and muting other things within his area, such as fire, electricity, emotions, and more. Or even Touched powers themselves. By simply turning toward and focusing on what he wanted to affect, be that a flickering flame, a bolt of lightning, a person with powers, or anything else, Quell could make the effects and powers disappear, dousing flame, erasing lightning, taking energy from an electrical device, or even making a Touched incapable of actively using their abilities so long as he was focused on them. Further, any effect that directly struck him would be absorbed so that he could, in turn, use it himself once.


    Quell was an extremely dangerous man, to say the least, who communicated primarily by stringing together the absorbed voices of others (he was capable of reusing sounds though not powers or effects) to form the sentences he wanted. For example, if he meant to say the sentence, ¡®I took a long walk to the store for some milk¡¯, ¡®I took¡¯, ¡®a long walk¡¯ ¡®to the store¡¯ ¡®for some¡¯ and ¡®milk¡¯ might all have been said by different voices and in different tones.


    Completing the group around the fire were a dark-skinned man in his late twenties with long black hair tied into braids, an Asian woman in her sixties with angular features and pale eyes, a red-haired and heavy-set white man clearly late in his fifties but quite fit, and a quite beautiful brunette with intensely, even unnaturally, blue eyes who didn¡¯t seem to be fully out of her teens.


    The black man¡¯s Touched name (no other identifiers tended to matter in this place) was Watchdog. The Asian woman was known as, somewhat strangely, Diesel. The red-haired man was called Rupture. Which left the young girl. Despite looking quite out of place against the rest of the group, she, perhaps more than most on the island, had earned her place there. Calling herself Zeal, her power allowed her to induce murderous, blindingly passionate emotions and loyalty for either herself or any given person or object. People affected by her power would fight and kill one another to protect it, to possess it, to take it for themselves, or to obey its commands. When multiple people were affected, she was able to share the skills and talents of any of those people amongst any others. The same went for any Touched powers they possessed, though those powers were often weakened by being shared. And she had used that gift quite a lot, amassing what amounted to an entire cult of obsessed followers who could and did kill for her before she was fifteen.


    The others in their small group had made it clear that if she used her power to control them outside of planned defensive measures, they would make her spend months begging for death. She, in turn, had let them know that anyone who touched her without her permission would find themselves targeted by the negative aspect of her power. A person or object affected in that way would find themselves not loved and desired, but loathed. Anyone who saw them would do anything in their power to utterly and completely destroy such a person or object.


    All of which left a single man, the one standing by the waterfall.


    Using a stick to gently poke the tinfoil wrapped package that was set close to the fire so that it would cook the food inside, Pinprick glanced toward Quell, nudging him slightly. ¡°Hey, man, you got any more of that chocolate left from before? I¡¯ll trade you a flavor tablet for two squares.¡±


    There was a pause before the answer of, ¡°One tablet, one square. Orange, not lime,¡± was said in the voices of three separate people. ¡°Two squares for root beer flavor. Three for real coffee.¡±


    ¡°Yeah right,¡± Pinprick retorted. ¡°If I had real coffee, I¡¯d be taking your whole bar. Fine, I¡¯ve got an orange tablet here.¡± He produced the wrapped candy-shaped thing, which would dissolve in a glass of water and grant its flavor. ¡°Just need some fucking candy, they¡¯re stingy with that shit.¡±


    After the two made the trade, Pinprick addressed the man who was still standing apart from the group. ¡°What about you, big guy? You got any chocolate with you? Hell, you might¡¯ve just joined up with us, but you¡¯ve definitely been on this hellhole for awhile. How long¡¯s it been?¡±


    Without turning around, the man replied, ¡°Four years and seven months.¡±


    Watchdog gave a low whistle at that. ¡°Shit, Prick¡¯s right, you¡¯ve gotta have all sorts of stashes around this place, surviving that long. You gonna share with the rest of us?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do better than that,¡± the man replied, turning at last to face them. He appeared to be in his early forties, with tanned skin faintly lined by age and stress, blonde hair with slight gray around the temples, and brown eyes. ¡°Far better than giving you a few measly treats that would be gone in moments.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I like my chocolate,¡± Rupture replied with a low chuckle. ¡°I¡¯d watch what you promise, lest you disappoint us. Don¡¯t care how long you¡¯ve been on this island, if I get disappointed, you won¡¯t get much further.¡±


    ¡°Now, be nice,¡± Diesel ordered, her gentle tone as at odds with her name as her appearance. The elderly Asian woman was quite polite and, to the extent that she was capable, enforced that politeness in her companions. But when a fight broke out, she was capable of doing untold damage.


    Clearing his throat, Pinprick asked, ¡°This got anything to do with why you keep going off on your own for days at a time before moseying on back here? You setting up some kind of surprise party for your new friends? Come on, you can share with us, we¡¯re all buddies, right?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°A surprise party, of sorts,¡± the man confirmed. ¡°But not for you.¡± Pausing, he amended, ¡°Let¡¯s say you¡¯re part of the party. If you¡¯re patient.¡±


    Watchdog muttered, ¡°You¡¯re pretty secretive, you know that? I don¡¯t know if I like secrets.¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry, puppy,¡± Zeal put in teasingly, ¡°I¡¯m sure our new friend isn¡¯t just leading us on. He¡¯s sincere, aren¡¯t you?¡± She turned her slightly pouting gaze to the man by the waterfall. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to be disappointed again. People are always disappointing me.¡±


    ¡°Stop it,¡± the man ordered. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lying,¡± Zeal declared, stretching out to make a point of her considerable bust and athletic figure. ¡°Everyone¡¯s interested in me. Unless you¡¯re gay, and you¡¯re definitely not gay. You talked about having a kid the other day. I heard you.¡±


    Quell ¡®spoke¡¯ then, the words coming from a dozen different sources all put together to form the sentence he wanted. ¡°She¡¯s right. You did mention having a child. Or children. Sometimes you say child, sometimes you say children. Which is it?¡±


    Instead of answering the question directly, the man replied, ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯ve been here for awhile. Long enough that I¡¯m almost ready to put my plan into action. My¡­ daughter, she¡¯s just about old enough. Three more weeks.¡±


    ¡°Old enough for what?¡± Rupture asked. ¡°And I¡¯ll thank you all to note how much I resisted making my own suggestions.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t get credit when you point it out,¡± Pinprick informed him before focusing on the standing man. ¡°Seriously though, what¡¯re you talking about? What¡¯s your daughter almost old enough for?¡±


    ¡°Almost old enough to be sent here,¡± was the response. ¡°And when she is, Paige will make certain they put her on an express plane to this island.¡±


    The response to his claim was a flat, silent stare from all of his companions for several long seconds. Finally, Diesel gently pointed out, ¡°Ah, honey, we don¡¯t see how that actually helps anything here. Why would you want your child to be sent to this place, let alone plan for it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Watchdog put in, ¡°and how the living fuck does your crotchspawn being tossed in this fucking hellhole with the rest of us actually help? I think you¡¯ve lost your goddamn mind.¡±


    Stepping away from the waterfall finally, the man moved over to take his seat next to the fire. He didn¡¯t answer the question at first, choosing instead to stare into the flames. Eventually, after the others had exchanged confused glances, he spoke. ¡°Because when she gets here, this entire island will stop being a prison. Everyone on it, everyone, will be able to leave. We will all escape.¡±


    The response to his claim was mostly incredulous chuckling and outright laughter, yet he remained resolute. Finally, Pinprick managed, ¡°Okay, okay, let me get this straight. Your kid is just waiting to be old enough that they¡¯ll bring her here. That¡¯s, what, seventeen at a minimum if the offense is bad enough to try her as an adult? And you think that, just because she gets here, this whole prison is gonna shut down? All the defenses they¡¯ve got are just gonna turn off or whatever and we¡¯ll all be free? Just like that?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± the man replied simply. ¡°The point is, we¡¯ll all be able to leave. You all can do what you want when it happens. Cause chaos, keep all the heroes busy and occupied. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. That¡¯s what all this has been about. A long-term plan. When it comes, when she gets here¡­ unleashing every monster on this island into the rest of the world will give me the opening I need.¡±


    There was another brief exchange of looks then before Diesel gently asked, ¡°The opening you need to do what, dear?¡±


    Staring into the flames, the man answered in a voice that was so quiet, his companions had to lean in to hear him properly. ¡°The opening I need to destroy the Detroit Ministry.¡±


    ¡°Those fucks who run everything over there?¡± Watchdog blurted. ¡°The hell makes you think you can pull off what no one else has? I mean, besides the fact that you¡¯re crazy enough to think bringing your kid here is gonna somehow free everyone on this island. How are you gonna take down the Ministry? They¡¯re always ready for anything people try to pull.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be ready for this,¡± the other man murmured. ¡°They¡¯ll be too busy grieving.¡±


    With a curious look, Diesel asked, ¡°Why will they be grieving?¡±


    He offered the group a casual shrug. ¡°Because in three weeks, when my Paige turns seventeen, she¡¯s going to kill the person she¡¯s spent years establishing a history of hatred and abuse toward, the one person the Ministry¡¯s leaders can¡¯t live without.


    ¡°Their daughter.¡±


    ******


    Patreon Snippets 4


    Aaron Jessup and Silversmith


    ¡°She really asked what you thought of the city after taking you prisoner in your own truck?¡±


    Hearing that question, Aaron Jessup exhaled slowly. He had been staring down at his own dirt-encrusted work boots, thinking about the last time he¡¯d bought a new pair. They looked old and grungy against the pleasant light blue carpeting of the interview room in this Conservator outpost in downtown Detroit. The room itself was clearly meant to put people at ease, with comfortable seating, soft lighting, rounded edges on all the tables, and several windows looking out into the main lobby along with two large, open doors at either end. The doors and windows could be closed for a more private discussion, or for those who might be afraid of being seen. But when set like this, the intention was obviously to make people not feel trapped. With the wide windows and two large doors, they wouldn¡¯t feel quite so penned in.


    It definitely wasn¡¯t an interrogation room, that was for sure. As a truck driver who had driven routes all over the states for a good sixteen years, Aaron had been in both kinds. He preferred this version.


    Finally, he looked over to the man who had asked the question. He was Silversmith, man of gleaming metal armor and a sterling reputation. The leader of the local Conservator (or Federal-level Star-Touched) group was one of the most well-known Touched not only in the state, but the entire country. Jessup had never met the man before, but he knew plenty about him. The guy was one of the good ones. He could be trusted.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Aaron confirmed with a nod. ¡°Asked me what I thought of your city while she had her big lizard gorilla thing ready to smack me into next week if I didn¡¯t behave.¡±


    Eyeing Aaron briefly, as though judging how he was feeling, Silversmith gave a light chuckle while shaking his head. ¡°That girl¡¯s still pretty new around here, but she¡¯s already something else.¡±


    ¡°You almost sound like you admire her,¡± Aaron pointed out. Part of him felt¡­ almost offended by that, but not quite. He¡¯d been robbed before, by people who were a hell of a lot more nasty about it than that girl had been. Lizard monsters or not, it paid to have some perspective. And when you still had a scar on your left shoulder and your right hip from jumpy assholes with guns who thought you weren¡¯t giving them what they wanted fast enough, you tended to appreciate the more professional thieves. Not that he wouldn¡¯t like to see her behind bars for that shit.


    ¡°Admire her?¡± the silver-armored hero echoed before shaking his head. ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t say admire. But given some of the monsters that come scurrying out of the shadows to terrorize the people of this city, this lizard girl¡¯s a damned peach in comparison.¡±


    ¡°Like that Pencil guy,¡± Aaron murmured. He knew about the Scions of Typhon. Who didn¡¯t? They, and those like them, were psychopaths beyond all description. The stories that made it into the national news about that son of a bitch¡­


    ¡°Like Pencil,¡± Silversmith agreed with a heavy sigh, glancing toward the other man. ¡°Or any of his freaks. Believe me, as much as I wish you could have made it through our city without a problem like this, it could¡¯ve been worse. Your cargo¡¯s all CIF insured, right?¡± He pronounced it ¡®kif.¡¯ It stood for Cooperative International Funding, a pool put together by most of the first world countries drawn mostly from taxes on Tech-Touched devices and manufacturing, as well as merchandise sales for Star-Touched teams and similar things. Everything went into that pool and was used to rebuild after Collision Points and other very damaging Touched Events. Companies and even individuals who paid to be CIF insured sent funds into the pool as well, in order to be covered if and when they themselves were victims of Touched crimes.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s all covered,¡± Jessup confirmed. Getting robbed wouldn¡¯t be on his neck, at least.


    ¡°Good.¡± With a brief pause, Silversmith looked to him. ¡°I wanted to ask you something else. In your report to the first officers on the scene, you said that the Minority member That-A-Way ¡®sort of¡¯ fought your attacker. Why do you say ¡®sort of?¡¯¡±


    ¡°Ehhhh¡­¡± Grimacing, Aaron shook his head. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want to get the girl in trouble or anything. She did her job, a job she shouldn¡¯t have to have at her age. She¡¯s a good one in my book.¡±


    ¡°She is a good one,¡± Silversmith agreed, his tone easy and casual. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to tattle on her, Mr. Jessup. I think That-A-Way is one of our finest young Star-Touched and an incredible young woman in her own right. But given the age situation of the Minority and how careful we need to be with protecting and guiding them, if there is an issue, it¡¯s better for me to know about it now before it becomes a problem. We need to know if our teenagers need a break for their own mental health, or if they need to be kept away from certain threats for their own safety.¡±


    After a long pause, Aaron gave a long, heavy sigh. ¡°Well, best as I could see from where I was¡­ she and that Pack girl did seem to be¡­ uhh¡­ maybe¡­ flirting a little bit? Don¡¯t get me wrong, she still fought her, but it was like¡­ neither of ¡®em were really up for hurting each other. And they were just¡­ yeah, flirting a bit.¡± He grimaced once more. ¡°Just don¡¯t give the kid a hard time about it?¡±


    He could hear the easy smile in Silversmith¡¯s voice. ¡°Trust me, Mr. Jessup, this isn¡¯t the first time we¡¯ve had an issue of young, still-maturing Touched developing feelings for people on the other side. You were right to tell me about this. And don¡¯t you worry, we know how to handle it.


    ¡°Everything will be just fine.¡±


    ******


    Pack and Broadway


    An unlabeled white van pulled up to the mouth of an alley, idling there as the window rolled down.


    ¡°Hey, sweet thing!¡± called a voice from within the van. ¡°You need a lift?¡±


    Rolling her eyes behind her mask, Pack abandoned the shadows and moved to the van. Holiday, Twinkletoes, and Mars Bar followed suit. As she approached, the side-door of the van slid open, held by Tuesday, the lizard-monkey chittering at them in a voice that seemed to be an order to hurry up. Their traveling cage sat next to him.


    One by one, Pack reached out, touched one of her menagerie to shrink them back into their normal lizard forms, and placed them in the cage. Riddles flew down from where she had been playing lookout and returned to being a bearded dragon. Tuesday was last, and she tickled under his chin before putting him back to his ordinary gecko shape. Setting him in the cage, she closed it up, then slid the back door shut and moved around to get into the front passenger door.


    KD was in the driver¡¯s seat. Or rather, Broadway as she was known in the field. She wore what amounted to a power-suit, metal armor that boosted her height by a few inches (useful for disguising her identity) and enhanced her strength and speed to the point of lifting about six hundred pounds and running forty miles per hour. The suit was dark purple to the point of being almost black, with what looked like narrow white vents all along both arms, down both legs, and in the chest and back. They weren¡¯t vents, however. They were speaker-systems that could blast sound at ear-splitting decibels all on their own, even before KD¡¯s own power to manipulate and enhance sound itself came into play. Without the suit, she could clap her hands, then magnify and direct the result until it punched through a concrete block. She could do that to any sound in her vicinity. She could also disperse herself into soundwaves in order to avoid attacks. And if she used her power to focus sound toward one area (similar to what she would do when narrowing it for a sonic attack), then turned herself into sound and jumped into the wave she had just created while it was moving, she could reappear at the target. Basically, she teleported along her own manipulated and directed blasts of sound. And there were other tricks she could do with sound beyond straight up damage or teleporting.


    She could do all that without the suit. With it, her power was enhanced to incredible levels. Instead of punching through concrete, she could magnify the sound that came from the suit¡¯s speakers to the point of being able to damage or even destroy a military tank or other armored vehicle.


    The helmet of the suit was also dark purple, with three white vertical speaker-vents along either side. They were positioned where her ears would be and angled toward the front. Over the face part was a wide V-shaped visor. Whenever Broadway spoke, bright multi-colored lines bounced across the surface of the visor roughly in rhythm with her words. Like a speaker system with the lights in front that pulsed along with the music it played.


    Once Pack was inside, she shut the door and Broadway pulled away from the curb. The van made it through the maze of side-streets before approaching the freeway. Only once they were heading up the ramp did KD remove the helmet and set it aside, exposing her pale skin and bright blue-dyed hair fashioned into pigtails. Dani took her own hood down and pulled the black, featureless mask off her face to reveal her dark skin with short, spiky hair that was mostly black aside from the bright white-dyed tips.


    Both girls grinned at one another before fist-bumping as the van joined the rest of the traffic on the freeway.  ¡°Could¡¯ve gone worse,¡± KD chirped. ¡°Got half the stuff.¡±


    ¡°Could¡¯ve gone better too,¡± Dani retorted, leaning back in the seat a little to watch the cars around them thoughtfully. ¡°We could¡¯ve gotten all of it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, true,¡± KD agreed easily, drumming her fingers along the steering wheel to some tune in her head. ¡°Still, half isn¡¯t bad considering that Touched girl showed up.¡± Trailing off meaningfully, she added, ¡°Speeeeaaaking of which¡­¡±


    ¡°Nothing to speaking of which about,¡± Dani insisted, feeling a slight flush cross her face as she turned to look out the passenger window. Boy, those lights in the city sure were interesting.


    There was a slight giggle from behind her, before KD spoke again. ¡°That was the girl you were trapped in Jailtime¡¯s funhouse with, right?¡±


    After a brief pause, Dani nodded. ¡°Uhh, yeah, That-A-Way, that¡¯s right.¡±


    ¡°And the girl who helped at the hospital,¡± KD pressed. ¡°The one who saved Holiday.¡±


    There was another brief pause from Dani, then a slightly more quiet, ¡°Yup.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± KD murmured. Her voice sounded totally noncommittal and barely interested. ¡°Kay.¡±


    Several long moments of nothing further happened, while the van traveled down the freeway. When she was met with so much silence, Dani very hesitantly turned to peek over her shoulder at her companion.


    KD was grinning brightly, staring that way. As soon as Dani turned to glance at her, she blurted cheerfully, ¡°You like her!¡±


    Blush deepening, Dani flailed a little. ¡°What¨Cnooo, no, come on, don¡¯t be stupid. She¡¯s one of the good guys, she¡¯s a hero and stuff. She wants to arrest me, remember? What do you think that whole fight back there was about?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± KD deadpanned, ¡°she really looked like she was totally dead set on locking you up forever and throwing away the key. However will you survive the dreadful wounds she inflicted?¡±


    Making a face at her friend, Dani retorted, ¡°The point is, she¡¯s Star-Touched. I¡¯m Fell-Touched. Good guy, bad guy. Not really conducive to a relationship. Even if I did like her.¡±


    ¡°People can change sides, you know,¡± KD pointed out. ¡°This stuff isn¡¯t set in stone.¡±


    Dani gave her a sharp look. ¡°I¡¯m not joining the Team Good Samaritan just because I think That-A-Way is hot. I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, she totally is. But I¡¯m not changing my whole life over it. I made my choice about being who I am.¡±


    ¡°Who said anything about you joining them?¡± KD replied. ¡°It can work the other way too.¡±


    ¡°Something tells me that girl is not interested in joining our side any more than I am in joining her side,¡± Dani muttered.


    KD nodded in agreement, her tone thoughtful. ¡°Maybe not yet. But you know what?


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure whatever¡¯s going on between you two is just getting started.¡±

 Interlude 9B - More Lost Memories

    Seven Years Ago


    ¡°Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeer! Pew, pew, pew!¡± Running through the front foyer of his house, nine-year-old Anthony Tate held a toy jet fighter out to one side as he imitated laserfire. The boy¡¯s unruly mop of light brown hair matched his eyes, and a light coating of freckles dusted his face. A face that was covered by a wide smile that showed his crooked teeth as he called in his best approximation of a pilot¡¯s commanding voice. ¡°Target locked, dodge this, you alien scum! Missiles away! Whooosh, there they go!¡± With a sweep of his hand, he indicated their path.


    ¡°Weeerrbblee reebble rabble!¡± Anthony¡¯s best friend, Cassidy Evans, held a toy fighter of her own. This one had started out its life looking almost identical to the one that Anthony was playing with. But the two of them had carefully painted it bright pink with purple lightning bolts (or as close as they could get to lightning bolts) on the wings, and glued a second pair of wings to the bottom of it to make the fighter look a little more alien. Granted, they easily could have asked for and received an entire fleet of alien toys within fifteen minutes. But they wanted to do it themselves. Plus, it was fun, and it gave Anthony something to do with the plane whose wings had broken off.


    ¡°Werble rebble rabble?¡± the boy echoed, head tilting in obvious confusion as he watched Cassie zoom in circles around him, the ¡®alien fighter¡¯ held out beside her. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    Grinning, the short-haired girl chirped, ¡°That¡¯s the sound of the anti-missile shield! It¡¯s like a tractor beam, only it pushes things away instead of pulling them in!¡± Quickly, she added, ¡°But it takes all the power from the shield to push things away, so the aliens hafeta time it right, or¨C¡±


    ¡°Pew, pew, pew!¡± Anthony blurted, suddenly realizing where the girl was going with that before she finished describing how the shields being down to power their anti-missile system would leave the aliens vulnerable to other attacks. He made his fighter do a quick loop and a barrel roll while indicating the path of his lasers with quick flicks from his fingers. ¡°Pew, pew!¡±


    ¡°Naaaaargh!¡± Cassidy cried out, making the fighter spin around while speaking in her best high-pitched alien voice. ¡°Damage, damage! Return to mothership, return to mothership!¡± With that, she began racing up the nearby stairs two at a time. ¡°Accelerating out of Earth¡¯s atmosphere! Divert remaining power to boosters to escape gravitational pull!¡±


    Quickly, Anthony started up the stairs after her. ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± He called. ¡°Come back here, you alien scum! We modified this fighter to reach space, you can¡¯t get away that easily!¡±


    ¡°Come and get us, dirty human!¡± Cassidy called back from the top of the stairs, still using her high-pitched alien voice, while adding a buzzing sound just because she thought it sounded better that way. ¡°You can¡¯t hope to stand up against the firepower of our main battle¨Coof!¡±


    That last bit came because Cassidy had run straight on into a man who had just stepped out of one of the rooms on the second floor. Just as he appeared, speaking over his shoulder, Cassidy bounced off him, landing on her backside with a yelp as the man grunted and stumbled a bit.


    ¡°Cassie!¡± Anthony quickly flung himself up the last couple stairs, dropping beside his friend. His plane fell to the side, forgotten for the moment as he checked on her. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± she confirmed, staring up at the man she had run into with large doe-like eyes. She didn¡¯t recognize him. He was in his mid-late thirties, with dark blond hair and brown eyes. ¡°Sorry, Mister.¡±


    There was the slightest pause before the man offered a faint, yet genuine smile, shaking his head. ¡°Not at all,¡± he assured her, holding a hand out to the girl, helping her up. ¡°I¡¯m afraid it was entirely my fault for getting in the middle of a¡­¡± He glanced from the modified ¡®alien¡¯ fighter on the floor, to the normal one lying nearby where both had been dropped. ¡°spaceship dogfight?¡±


    ¡°Anthony, Cassidy?¡± Anthony¡¯s father appeared in the doorway behind the other man, stepping around him. ¡°Is everything okay out here? You¡¯re not bothering our guest too much, are you?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s quite alright, Russell,¡± the man assured him. ¡°I managed to stumble my way out into the middle of a fight to save the planet, that¡¯s all.¡± He winked at the kids before turning to Anthony¡¯s father. ¡°No harm, no foul. Shall we continue our discussion in the other room? I have a few more examples of just how we can revolutionize the entire industry.¡±


    Giving a good-natured roll of his eyes at the bold claim, Mr. Tate waved for the children to be off. ¡°Why don¡¯t you kids play outside for a little bit and run off a little more energy? I¡¯ll have Ricky bring you out some treats to the pavilion.¡± That said, he began to walk off with his guest, informing him, ¡°You know, a lot of people claim what they have will ¡®revolutionize things.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± the other man retorted while following. ¡°But they don¡¯t have what I have. Results.¡±


    Standing there, the two children watched the men leave, before Anthony turned to Cassie with a sudden grin. ¡°Hey! I saw the truck that guy came in. It looks all funny, like a van and a truck all smooshed together. That can be the alien mothership and we can fly around it and stuff!¡±


    Cassidy immediately jumped at that idea, and the two of them grabbed their respective fighters before rushing down the stairs and out the door. As promised, there was what appeared to be a van-truck hybrid in the long, half-circle driveway, near the exit gate with its back end pointed toward the mansion. With gleeful whoops, the two kids raced past the fountain and to the vehicle with their ships held out to the side in flying mode, already blurting the onomatopoeia for their respective laser and missile sounds as they split up at the back of the truck-van, each racing around it in a different direction. Anthony went toward the driver¡¯s side while Cassidy ran on the passenger side, each sprinting to reach the front of the designated ¡®mothership¡¯ first.


    Before Cassidy could reach it, however, the heavy side door of the vehicle slid open right beside her, and she stopped abruptly. Turning, the nine-year-old found herself facing another girl who had just slid the door open. This girl was perhaps a year older than the other two, a pretty blonde ten-year-old who sat cross-legged in the back of the truck-van, which turned out to be full of random crates, electrical equipment, and tools. Both girls stared at one another in silence for several long seconds. Finally, Cassidy piped up with, ¡°Hi!¡±


    ¡°Hi!¡± the girl echoed brightly, though she remained sitting in the same position.


    ¡°Who are you¨C¡± Anthony, having reached the front of the vehicle, came around to join her before seeing the girl sitting there. ¡°Oh! Uhh, hi.¡±


    Abruptly focusing on him, the blonde girl chirped, ¡°Hi, Anthony!¡± She looked positively delighted, giving a dazzling smile. ¡°Did my dad tell you to come get me? I was bored.¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± Exchanging a brief, confused look with his friend, Anthony shook his head. ¡°Not really. Your dad¡¯s still talking to my dad. He made you stay out here by yourself? Oh, um, this is Cassidy.¡± He gestured that way. ¡°How come you know who I am?¡±


    ¡°Hi, Cassidy.¡± Smiling easily as she greeted the other girl by name that time, the girl added, ¡°I¡¯m Paige. My dad showed me your picture when we were coming over here. He really likes your dad.¡± She paused, as though only just thinking of something, before frowning. ¡°But I¡¯m not supposed to talk to strangers.¡±


    Shrugging, Anthony pointed out, ¡°He showed you my picture and told you my name, so I¡¯m not a stranger, right? And this is my friend, so she¡¯s not a stranger either.¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°She?¡± Paige blinked once, looking back that way. ¡°You look like a boy.¡± It was a statement made not of maliciousness, but youthful innocent frankness.


    Flushing, Cassidy cupped both hands to the side of her head, covering her short black hair before stomping once. ¡°I¡¯m a girl!¡± she insisted. ¡°I just like short hair, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Paige replied with immediate acceptance before adding, ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I said something wrong.¡±


    Cassidy shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s okay, everyone thinks I¡¯m a boy at first. Um.¡± She hesitated before offering, ¡°Do you wanna play with us?¡± The girl reached into her pocket before tugging out a small action figure, holding it out. ¡°We¡¯re the ships, but you could be a Star-Touched who comes to help Anthony¡¯s ship! Like Silversmith!¡±


    There was another brief pause as Paige looked blankly at the toy being offered to her. Then her hand moved, taking it from Cassidy with a small smile. ¡°You really want to play with me?¡±


    ¡°Sure!¡± Anthony agreed, head bobbing up and down. ¡°Your dad¡¯s van is the alien mothership, okay? I¡¯m the American fighter ship and Cassie¡¯s the aliens. So, you wanna play?¡±


    Finally, Paige picked herself up from her cross-legged position, hopping nimbly out of the van. ¡°Okay!¡±


    With that agreement, the three children immediately began running in circles around the vehicle, loudly exclaiming about everything they were doing in the course of their battle.


    *******


    Two Years Later/Five Years Ago


    A soft tap at Cassidy¡¯s window drew her attention that way. She was in her bedroom, sitting on the floor as she stared at Anthony¡¯s jet fighter and her own modified ¡®alien¡¯ ship. It had been mere days since the¡­ attack that ended with her best friend¡¯s death and that of his family and the house employees. Days since she had learned in such a traumatic fashion that her father was Silversmith, that her grandfather had sent those men to kill her friend and his family because he wanted to get at her. Days since Bobby had saved her life nearly at the cost of his own and since she had seen her father cut her grandfather¡¯s head off in front of her.


    Days since she had spoken more than a few words to anyone, or had done much of anything aside from sit, stare at nothing, and murmur or whisper to herself. Sometimes she watched TV, but she didn¡¯t really engage with it. She¡¯d had books in her hand but had barely read. She took toys and sat there staring at them, remembering all the things she had done with Anthony.


    As that tap came, the girl turned her head slightly to see a familiar figure crouched there by the window. There was a brief pause before she stood up, walked over to unlatch the window, and then stepped back.


    It slid up, and Paige slipped inside. The blonde opened her mouth, shut it, then stepped over to silently embrace Cassidy. The other girl let her, and they stood in silence for a few seconds with Paige tightly hugging her while Cassidy stood with her arms at her sides. She felt¡­ tired. Just so damn tired. She wanted her best friend back. She wanted none of this to be real. She wanted¡­ something. She didn¡¯t know what, but she wanted something to change. She had spent so many long hours closing her eyes, wishing that everything that had happened would be a dream, and opening them.


    The only part of her days when Cassidy wasn¡¯t sad were the moments just after she woke up, before the memory of what had happened settled in. She slept as much as she could, not only because she was tired (though she was), but because every time she slept and woke up, Anthony was kind of¡­ sort of alive for just a couple seconds.


    Until she remembered that he wasn¡¯t.


    Finally releasing Cassidy, Paige stepped back with a small, worried frown knitting her forehead. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry, Cassie. I¨C¡± She stopped, head tilting slightly before she admitted, ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to say right now. Dad never¡­ told me how to talk to people like this. He never told me what I¡¯m supposed to do.¡± Swallowing hard, her voice trembled as she added pleadingly, ¡°I want to know what to do.¡±


    At first, Cassidy didn¡¯t respond. She simply stood and stared over the other girl¡¯s shoulder at the window. After a few long seconds of that, her eyes moved to meet the despondent Paige¡¯s, and she asked in a quiet, brittle voice, ¡°How did you get inside? There¡¯s security cameras and stuff.¡± It was the most outward interest she had shown in anything since that horrific day.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Paige agreed. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of them. But it¡¯s not really hard to get past them if you¡­¡± She paused, considering for a moment before settling on, ¡°¡­ if you time it right. You just have to watch the cameras and go where they¡¯re not looking.¡± She said it that simply, as if talking about learning how to water the lawn rather than how to sneak past a dozen cameras on the grounds of the richest family in Michigan.


    Again, Cassidy didn¡¯t say anything for a moment. She stood there, looking at the window in silence before finally turning back to Paige. ¡°Can you teach me how to do that?¡±


    ¡°How to¨C¡± Paige started before looking over her shoulder at the window and back again. ¡°How to get past your house security? Why do you want to leave? It¡¯s¡­ ¡° She paused, considering her words before deciding on, ¡°Don¡¯t you want to stay where it¡¯s safe?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not safe here,¡± Cassidy replied quietly, a slight tremor in her voice as her head shook. ¡°I¡­¡± A hard lump formed in her throat, and she had to swallow repeatedly before being able to speak again. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be trapped here.¡± Her gaze found the other girl¡¯s urgently, lower lip quivering. ¡°Please, Paige.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± the blonde agreed softly. She took Cassidy¡¯s hand and squeezed it. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell your parents about me?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cassidy confirmed in a barely audible voice. She was looking away. ¡°You always said you¡¯d get in trouble if your dad knew you were playing with us when he came over.¡± For the past two years, about once a month, Paige¡¯s father would visit Anthony¡¯s house. While he was inside having long meetings, Paige would emerge and play with Anthony and Cassidy for awhile. She always seemed to know when her dad was coming back, no matter how long he took, and would tell the other two she had to go back to the van. Actually, it was kind of fun to have a secret friend nobody knew about. It was¡­ kind of fun¡­ while Anthony was alive.


    Stepping over to the window while tugging Cassidy by the hand, Paige carefully asked, ¡°Are you really sure you want me to show you how to get past the cameras?¡± When the other girl gave a firm nod, Paige pulled her right up to the window. ¡°Okay.


    ¡°First, watch that camera right¡­ there by the corner¡­¡±


    ******


    For the next hour, Paige taught Cassidy how to escape her house without being noticed. She showed her where the cameras were, where various motion sensors had to be avoided, how to get across the grounds without being seen from the guard shack, how the guard patrols worked, which windows to keep an eye on while leaving or approaching, and so on. She showed the other girl everything she needed to know to escape her own house.


    Eventually, however, they both watched from the bushes as a car arrived in the driveway of the house, a pale man with dark-blond hair emerging to greet both of Cassidy¡¯s parents as they came from the house to meet him. He wore a crisp white suit.


    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Paige whispered, as the two girls crouched in the bushes.


    Cassidy¡¯s head shook. ¡°I¡­ I dunno.¡± She sighed, looking at the ground. The past hour had been the most she¡¯d been able to forget what happened at Anthony¡¯s house, and that made her feel guilty. She¡­ she didn¡¯t quite forget Anthony, just¡­ she hadn¡¯t been sad about it for a few minutes.


    What was wrong with her? Was she evil too?


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± Paige prompted, squeezing the girl¡¯s arm. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Shaking that off, Cassidy managed a weak, ¡°No. I miss Anthony.¡±


    ¡°So do I,¡± Paige murmured, her own voice a very soft whisper. She started to say something else, before turning to look at the front door where the adults were talking. ¡°Cassidy,¡± she put in a bit urgently. ¡°We need to get back. They¡¯re coming to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Blinking, Cassidy looked to the house, where her parents and the strange man were going inside. ¡°How do you¨C¡±


    ¡°Come on.¡± Paige pulled her by the hand, checking the cameras before leading the girl to the side of the house. She had already showed her how to climb up the wall, and did so more quickly, helping Cassidy until they reached her room. Once the other girl was safely inside, Paige started to leave again before wincing. ¡°Guard patrol,¡± she whispered. Then she looked over to the door. ¡°Your parents are coming.¡±


    Cassidy looked to the door as well, before pointing. ¡°Go to my closet,¡± she said simply. ¡°You can hide there.¡±


    Paige did so, stopping briefly to embrace her friend. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about Anthony. I wish¡­ he was here to make you feel better instead of me.¡±


    Sniffing, Cassidy closed her eyes tightly. ¡°I wish he was here too,¡± she agreed in a shaken, trembling voice. Then she looked at the girl. ¡°But I¡¯m still glad you¡¯re here. You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re my friend too.¡±


    The two girls, united by their grief for a lost friend, looked at one another for a moment. Then the sound of the doorknob turning spurred Paige into action. She raced to the closet, slipping into it and closing the door just as Cassidy sat on a chair facing the mirror.


    ¡°Hi,¡± the blond man started while Paige peered out through the crack in the closet door.


    ¡°My name is Jackson. Kent Jackson.¡±

 Fault 10-01

    Eits didn¡¯t really find anything useful enough to share (other than letting me know he was still looking into it) over the next few days. Days that I spent doing things like practicing with my paint, getting accustomed to using my spiffy new wall-sticking shoes, and trying (failing) to figure out what the damn pink paint was used for. Aside from that last part, it went pretty well. I also spent some time helping Izzy get a new phone so she could call or text me. Or anyone else.


    So, I was doing okay on the whole practicing with the powers I knew about thing, still had no idea what was going on with the pink paint, was avoiding Tomas as much as possible without looking like I was avoiding him, and remained almost completely clueless about whatever the fuck was going on with Paige and her real father living on the inescapable prison island thing.


    The point was, pretty soon, it was Wednesday afternoon. I was going to visit the Seraph HQ in a few minutes. But first, I was determined to finish up at least one more of the pictures for the people who went to Amber¡¯s party. She was waiting patiently for them, but I really needed to put a dent in the list. Not that that took too much time, considering how easy drawing suddenly was for me. But it took longer than it could have, because I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to use my actual paint on the pictures. No way would I risk leaving that kind of incriminating evidence about who I was. Instead, I had a pad that I was sketching the requested pictures in before inking them later. And coloring the ones for the people who requested and paid for that extra bit, eventually.


    So there was just one more I wanted to finish right now, a sketch of the guy in the picture (his name was Alan and he was a senior) doing a, ahem ¡®sick flip¡¯ on his skateboard off one of the castle-like towers of the Grand Army of the Republic building downtown (which was where I was now so I could draw it more effectively). Apparently he¡¯d always wanted to do that but there was no way it would ever happen. So he paid for a drawing of it rather than do anything stupid like actually try. Which, well, kudos to him for thinking it through.


    I was sitting cross-legged against the side of one of a nearby building¡¯s brick chimneys. Yes, I was using my shoes to switch my gravity so that I could sit against the side of the chimney as though it was the ground, facing downward as I worked intently, drawing on the pad. With it in my lap, the pad seemed to be affected by the same change in gravity so it didn¡¯t go flying away from me. Of course, I was in costume. Well, mostly. It was harder to draw with gloves, so I had those off as well as the helmet, with just the mask on underneath. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly why I was drawing like this in costume rather than doing it at home or whatever, I just didn¡¯t want to be home. Besides, I was heading to the Seraph base pretty soon. I just needed to finish this picture with a bit more detail on Alan himself as he came off the building. After all, what was the point of buying a picture of yourself doing something awesome if you couldn¡¯t tell it was supposed to be you?


    So intent was I on getting the boy¡¯s face right, that the sudden sound and feel of my phone buzzing made me jerk in surprise. The pad fell a few feet to land on the roof below, and I quickly reached to my pocket. The call was coming in on my ¡®work¡¯ phone, so to speak. Taking a quick look to see who was calling, I said a few quick words aloud to make sure my voice changer was working right before answering. ¡°Yo, Wr-I mean Trevithick. What¡¯s up? Gotta say, these shoes¨C¡±


    Before I could say anything else, Wren quickly interrupted, sounding pretty wound up about something. ¡°Paintball! Um, are you anywhere near MLK High? That place by Larned.¡±


    ¡°I know where it is,¡± I answered while hopping off the chimney to land lightly on the roof as I glanced over toward the nearby landmark building I¡¯d been drawing a moment earlier. ¡°I¡¯m a couple miles away, by Grand River Avenue. Why, what¡¯s going on? Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Oh! Oh, they might be going that way,¡± the young Tech-Touched blurted. ¡°It¡¯s on the news, there¡¯s this red sedan, these two guys just grabbed a girl that was outside the school and now they¡¯re driving down, umm¡­ Uncle Fred, where¨CLafayette. They¡¯re coming your way on Lafayette but they might turn! The cops were chasing them, but they used a sonic cannon or something that blew one of the cars like a million miles away so they don¡¯t dare get close. I think they¡¯re trying to call in Touched for help but if the car gets out of sight they could disappear!¡±


    It took me a second to put that all together, but I was already using red paint to yank my helmet up. ¡°Red sedan speeding everywhere running from cops and trying to hide, got it. On my way.¡± Thanking the girl and promising to call back, I disconnected while stowing the drawing pad in my nearby bag, hiding it out of sight, and slipping my gloves on. Then I took a running start, leaping off the building with a bit of blue paint to launch myself forward and up. Red yanked me toward the next building, and then my feet hit it, the shoes allowing me to run along the side without having to worry about putting more paint down to stay there.


    I¡¯d been grateful for the shoes already, of course. But they meant more now than before. Thinking about some girl being grabbed by guys for¡­ whatever reason made me push harder, using my mix of red, green, and blue paints to race along the sides and tops of buildings while scanning the road below. It didn¡¯t take long to reach Lafayette, and I kept going that way.


    The kidnappers were using at least one Tech-Touched weapon. That didn¡¯t necessarily mean they were Tech-Touched, just that they had access to it. A sonic based cannon was one of those things that popped up in the news now and then, often enough that I knew it was a black market thing. Hopefully, whoever these guys were, they¡¯d just bought their weapon that way.


    But why would people with the kind of cash that it took to get and keep one of those things be grabbing some random high schooler? Unless she wasn¡¯t random. Or unless they¡¯d just found the weapon somewhere? Whatever, there were a lot of options and guessing would get me nowhere.


    Of course, while I was running, my other phone went off. It was my actual Cassidy phone. I would¡¯ve ignored it, except I¡¯d already set the phone not to put any calls through that weren¡¯t from my important contacts. Sure enough, when I took a second while running along a roof to unzip the pocket and glance at it, it was Mom on the phone.


    Pausing briefly, I weighed my choices. But in the end, I didn¡¯t want to give them any reason to wonder about me. So I quickly deactivated my voice changer and answered the phone before starting to run again. ¡°Hi, Mom!¡± I chirped, trying to sound normal.


    ¡°Cassidy,¡± came the warm response, ¡°I wanted¨Care you running?¡±


    I leapt from the roof of that building, windmilling through the air while replying, ¡°Oh, uhhh, yeah. I¨C¡± My hand snapped out, shooting a bit of red that yanked me to another wall I could run along the side of. ¡°You know, just trying to stay in shape. Beside¡¯s, running¡¯s fun. Sorry, I¨C¡± I flipped sideways off the edge of the building, landing on top of a signpost before using blue paint to launch myself up and forward, ¡°¨Cdidn¡¯t forget something, did I?¡±


    There was a brief pause before the answer came. ¡°No, no, you did not forget anything, dear. As long as you¡¯re okay?¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± I replied as cheerfully and simply as I could, doing my level best not to let her know that, at that exact moment, I was flying through the air as my red paint pulled me to another roof. ¡°You know me, just can¡¯t sit still for very long. What¡¯s¨Cumm, what¡¯s up?¡± I nearly misjudged that particular landing, stumbling a little before catching myself. I really hoped this wasn¡¯t going to be a long conversation.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t. Mom just wanted to ask me if I minded dressing up and going out for dinner the next night, since there was apparently some kind of award show at the country club that Dad needed to attend. I agreed, she made me promise not to run too much, and I disconnected the call (turning the voice changer back on, of course). Then I exhaled. Talking to my mother while doing all this¡­ Paintball running and jumping stuff was nerve wracking. It felt like she could see me while I was talking, even though she couldn¡¯t. Shaking that off, I focused on the task at hand. Namely, finding that car before they managed to completely disappear.


    In the end, I didn¡¯t actually have to look that hard to try to find the car. All I had to do was look for the news chopper in the sky. They seemed to be staying well back, probably to avoid getting nailed by that sonic cannon. But it gave me a general area to look in as soon as I saw the chopper hovering above one of the buildings about a mile from my starting point. And sure enough, as I landed against a billboard and stared intently toward the road, I saw it. The red sedan came screaming around a slow-moving semi, racing my way with a squeal of tires.


    Okay, right, I could do this. I could do it. There was an innocent girl in that car, I had to get her out of there, even if the idea of throwing myself at guys with access to at least one extremely dangerous Tech-Touched weapon made me want to whimper. I had to forget about how dangerous it was, forget about how easily a weapon like that could probably maim or kill me, and just¡­ jump.


    I jumped, pushing off the wall into a backflip just as the car got close. They clearly hadn¡¯t seen me yet, and I used just a touch of yellow paint to slow my fall right before the end, timing it just right. Which, again, was something I didn¡¯t actually think about. It was kind of like when I¡¯d been racing through the dark forest to get to Paige the other day. I¡¯d just stopped thinking and knew where all the trees and bushes were, even in the darkness. Just like that, I didn¡¯t stop to think about how to time my drop to coincide with the car¡¯s passing, I just¡­ knew how to do it.


    It worked. With the help of that bit of yellow, I landed perfectly in the middle of the passing car¡¯s roof, falling slowly enough at that point that it only dented the thing in a bit. Sure, they really knew I was there by that point, but at least I didn¡¯t just go right through the roof entirely or cave it in completely. Red paint yanked my hands down to stay on the car an instant later as it swerved hard to one side. Yeah, they definitely knew I was up there. So, without thinking about it, I painted the image of a man in purple armor holding an orange shield on my chest, activating the latter part.


    Rolling quickly toward the passenger side, I popped my head down near the open window. ¡°Hey, do you guys have any idea how fast you¡¯re going?!¡± Using that moment, I took stock of the car¡¯s occupants. Three guys and a girl. The only guy in front was the driver, with two guys in the back on either side of the clearly high school-aged girl. She looked maybe fourteen or fifteen, slim with short red hair. The guys all looked¡­ well, normal. They weren¡¯t wearing any kind of costumes or uniforms linking them to any of the Fell-gangs in town. Both the guys in the back had guns out. Not the sonic cannon, at least. They held regular handguns.


    Before they could react to my blurted words, I quickly pointed both hands (using a tiny bit of red on my chest to keep myself in place), hitting the girl with a pair of paint blobs. One was orange, and I activated it immediately, just in case this went south in the next few seconds. Hell, I didn¡¯t know what these guys might do, but taking away their ability to just shoot and kill her that easily felt like a pretty solid idea right then.


    As it turned out, it was me they wanted to shoot at. Both men in the backseat pointed their pistols my way, opening fire. They were silenced (the good Tech-Touched silencers that made the gunshots sound like soft coughs), but being quiet made them no less dangerous. I quickly jerked myself up despite the orange paint, not wanting to get hit at all if I could help it. They adjusted quickly and were already shooting up through the roof of the car as I used green paint to speed myself up, rolling backward to get off that spot while several bullets passed through it.


    Since I was near the back of the car, I slapped one hand down with red paint to keep myself in place. The driver was swerving all over the place, and I would¡¯ve gone flying without that. As it was, my legs slid off the side, and one of the men clearly noticed because a shot hit one of them. The orange paint was still active, so it just stung a bit, but still. This wasn¡¯t great.


    With a grunt, I jerked my legs back up onto the roof. Then I shot two more quick red blobs of paint ahead of us to the buildings on either side of the street. Another bullet from the assholes inside the car popped through the roof and rebounded off my shoulder. Which, ow. That was starting to hurt. I needed to handle this, right now. Especially before I ran out of paint.


    With that in mind, I activated the other paint blob I¡¯d shot onto the girl a few seconds earlier. The non-orange one. It was white, and the car was suddenly filled with a blinding flash. As the people in there reacted, the car jerking to the side, I let myself slide right to the back window while activating the purple paint of the armored figure on my chest. Then I swung one leg back and drove my knee in through that rear windshield. The impact knocked a hole in the window, and I quickly threw myself in that way while everyone was still blinded and confused. Landing in the narrow space just above and behind the rear seat, I snapped my hands out to slap against the arms of either guy there.


    They reacted quickly despite being blinded, their guns pointing my way. But I was faster, activating the red paint I¡¯d just slapped onto both of them. Linking them to the two spots of red I¡¯d shot at the buildings we were now just barely passing, I sent both men flying out through the mostly-broken rear windshield with a pair of twin screams.


    But things weren¡¯t exactly free and clear yet. The driver, who, despite being at least half-blinded by the white flash, still managed to flip the car¡¯s autodrive on. That autodrive was now taking the car down an alley while the driver himself grabbed something and turned. The ¡®something¡¯ turned out to be a high-tech weapon that looked kind of like a futuristic silver and green sawed-off shotgun with oversized barrels. The sonic cannon, probably.


    Whatever it was, I did not want to get hit by it. To that end, I threw myself off the window area and into the backseat, landing basically in the kidnapped girl¡¯s lap while lashing out with one foot. The purple paint was still active, so my kick actually broke the driver¡¯s seat when it collided, knocking the man forward into the steering wheel just as he was trying to aim that weapon. It went off, the sound utterly fucking deafening in those close quarters. The blast blew the passenger side front door off, crumpling it up and sending it flying. Meanwhile, the collision of the man with the steering wheel took off the autodrive and the car suddenly veered in the other direction, slamming hard into the wall of the alley. The car stopped, I fell to the floor, the driver rebounded off the suddenly triggered airbag, and the kidnapped girl bounced off the back of the front passenger seat before her seatbelt yanked her back down. She might¡¯ve been screaming. We all might¡¯ve been screaming. But the deafening effect of that sonic cannon made it a moot point.


    Before the man could fire that damn thing again, I forced myself to pop up, snatching it out of his dazed hand. I threw the weapon out the shattered back window, then grabbed the girl¡¯s hand. ¡°Come on!¡± I shouted, though I was pretty sure she couldn¡¯t hear me. I couldn¡¯t hear me. But she had the basic idea anyway, squeezing my hand like it was a lifeline as I kicked one of the back doors open and pulled her out. It was time to get this girl out of there, before the driver recovered or either of those guys I¡¯d sent flying caught up.


    Or not. Because as soon as the two of us emerged from the car, we found ourselves facing a whole group of maybe twelve men. And these guys didn¡¯t look like the random criminals the ones in the car had seemed to be. All of them were wearing militaristic dark body armor and full face-covering helmets with white lab coats, and they were holding what looked kind of like submachine guns. But I was pretty sure those weapons did more than fire bullets. Because these weren¡¯t ordinary thugs. They were troops who worked for Braintrust.


    Well, I didn¡¯t have to worry about one Tech-Touched gun anymore.


    Because I was facing about a dozen of them instead.

 Fault 10-02

    So, there I was. Standing in an alley facing twelve men with Tech-Touched guns, my hand held by the teen girl that I¡¯d been rescuing from what I thought were normal (if well-armed) kidnappers. The space was wider than a typical alley given it opened up into the space behind these buildings. But the part where the men were standing was still narrow enough that they were all bunched up. Actually, bunched up as they were, maybe I could get some blue paint at their feet and really throw off¨C


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Paintball.¡± That voice came from behind me, and I spun quickly, putting myself beside the girl with my right side mostly facing the group of armed men so I could keep track of what they were doing out of the corner of my eye. To my left as I glanced that way, I saw a single figure. He stood about seven feet tall, but that was deceptive, because his legs and arms were both very clearly artificial. They looked like the limbs from the endoskeleton of the T-800 Terminator from the Schwarzenegger movies. He¡¯d replaced his limbs with robotic prosthetics.


    While the man¡¯s metal arms and legs were exposed, his torso was covered in black armor sculpted to his muscular body (or at least made to look like his body was muscular) with the insignia of an F slightly in front of a W on the upper left portion of the chest, both letters looking like they were made out of girders. Given they were kind of silver against a black background, you had to squint a bit to make them out. Finally, his face was covered by a black helmet with three glowing red dots on the front, two where his eyes would be and one where his mouth would be.


    I knew this guy. Well, not personally, of course. But he was called Framework. His whole deal was attaching Tech-Touched devices and weapons to his body and deploying them as needed. When he was in battle, he tended to appear in any of several full-on personal mech suits, which ranged in size from basically what he was now, all the way up to his full twenty-foot tall version.


    Oh yeah, he was also one of the Fell-touched of Braintrust, the Tech-Touched gang. Which made sense, considering a bunch of their minions were currently blocking my exit from the alley.


    ¡°Gee,¡± I started quickly while glancing back and forth between the assortment of troops and the Fell-Touched man himself, ¡°are times really so hard for you Tech villains that you have to resort to using a whole army to kidnap one girl? I bet there¡¯s an online training course you can take to learn how to be competent villains and get all the way up to robbing banks in no time if you try.¡±


    Shockingly, that was apparently the wrong thing to say, as all the men to my right abruptly raised their weapons with a collective sound of annoyance and anger (though I swore at least one guy snickered a little bit before it was quickly cut off at a look from his companions) at the insult.


    Thankfully, Framework raised his voice. ¡°Stop.¡± He looked to the troops sharply, waiting until they relented before turning his attention back to me. ¡°We didn¡¯t come to start a brawl with you, Paintball, though we¡¯ll finish one if we need to. We came to get our property back, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Feeling offended on behalf of the girl who was still tightly clinging to my hand, I glanced to her with what I hoped was a reassuring look despite the blank visor of my helmet before snapping at the man. ¡°Yeah, you know what? Maybe if you keep calling the girl you were trying to kidnap your property, I¡¯ll just go ahead and jump right into that brawl you were just talking about.¡±


    There was a very brief pause as Framework¡¯s head tilted. The red dots on his helmet dulled, flickering briefly before flashing a couple times as the sound of what I belatedly realized was a chuckle came. ¡°No,¡± he replied flatly. ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about the girl. We don¡¯t even know who she is. Take her, return her to her school, do whatever you like. We came for that.¡± He raised a hand, pointing at the ground to one side. Looking there, I saw the Tech gun I¡¯d tossed out of the car.


    Blinking a couple times, I tried to catch up. ¡°Um. Excuse me? You brought a bunch of armed men to grab the gun just because I threw i¨Cwait, no.¡± Turning, I pointed at the guy who was still in the car and hadn¡¯t moved to get out. ¡°Them. That guy and his friends. You were after them because they weren¡¯t with you, and they had a gun that¨Cthat they stole from you, right?¡±


    Framework inclined his head, regarding me while those lights flickered a bit once more. Then he gave a short nod. ¡°Smart boy. Like I said, we¡¯re not here for the girl. We don¡¯t care about her. We¡¯re here for our property. It was taken from us and we¡¯re taking it back. Stand aside from that and we¡¯ll have no issues. This time, anyway.¡± He added the last bit after a momentary, pointed pause. ¡°Any future conflict can be saved for just that. The future.¡±


    I thought about it for a second, but honestly¡­ yeah, I couldn¡¯t see any real point to insisting on a fight right now. Not for something like this. I wasn¡¯t arrogant enough to think I could easily take on a whole group of Tech-armed soldiers who could have had any number of tricks, and a Fell-Touched guy whose entire deal was bringing mech suits into play. Pushing for a fight just to stop them from taking one of their guns back? That actually seemed pretty stupid, honestly. Especially with this innocent girl standing right next to me who would end up in the crossfire.


    So, I slowly nodded. ¡°Fine, take your gun and leave. We¡¯ll save the fighting thing for later.¡±


    Without moving from where he was standing, Framework gave a short nod to one of the men. That guy stepped forward carefully, leaning down to grab the gun from the ground. As it was stowed away, he asked his boss, ¡°What about him?¡± He was looking toward the guy still inside the car.


    ¡°He stays here,¡± I quickly put in. ¡°You can take your gun, but the guy stays. He¡¯ll go to jail for kidnapping¡­ ummm¡­¡± Trailing off, I glanced toward the red-haired girl beside me.


    ¡°P-Peyton,¡± she provided, eyes wide as she kept staring at the assorted weapons around us.


    ¡°Peyton,¡± I echoed with a nod. ¡°He¡¯ll go to jail for kidnapping Peyton. That¡¯ll have to be enough.¡±


    Framework simply shrugged. ¡°Is that really a fight you want to have right now? You¡¯re really willing to throw down with all this over protecting a guy who kidnaps some innocent girl?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m definitely not willing to just let you take justice into your own hands,¡± I retorted. ¡°He¡¯s here with me, he¡¯s going to the authorities. The question is, are you willing to start a fight right now when other Touched could show up any second. Not to mention cops. I mean, the news chopper was¨C¡± As I said that, my eyes glanced up toward the sky, only to pause. There was no chopper in sight. Which was weird, because I was pretty sure they should¡¯ve found us by now.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about the authorities or anyone else showing up to start, or finish, any problems,¡± Framework informed me. ¡°We¡¯ve got nothing but privacy for the moment.¡±


    As he said it, the man looked pointedly toward one of the rooftops. I glanced that way, only to see another of the Braintrust Touched. This was a man with sleek silver body armor that had dozens of scenes from various TV shows and movies playing across its surface in a collage of random images. It was Fabulist, a guy whose inventions were able to create illusions, elaborate special effects, that kind of thing. He was clearly making sure that the news chopper didn¡¯t find us. Hell, he¡¯d probably created a whole separate chase scene for them to keep following. I was alone.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Swallowing slightly, I straightened. ¡°You¡¯re still not taking him without a fight. I can¡¯t just let you walk away with that guy. Not when I¡¯ve got a good idea of just how he¡¯ll be treated.¡±


    For a few seconds, I wasn¡¯t sure how Framework was going to take that. He regarded me in silence before holding up one finger as though telling me to wait. His head turned and he spoke aloud, ¡°Glitch, slight issue.¡±


    Glitch. That was the leader of Braintrust. As I understood it, she was able to identify problems or flaws in technology, even of the Tech-Touched variety. She could even improve them, basically allowing her to upgrade the work of everyone in her gang. Beyond that, she could also make specific technology within her vicinity fail to work, or install ¡®glitches¡¯ into it that would flare up now and then for awhile even after the tech was away from her.


    So yeah, there was a reason she got to be the leader of a group entirely focused around technology and inventions. I just hoped she was also the leader because she was capable of making rational decisions.


    While the man in front of me was having a murmured conversation with his boss, I turned slightly to look at Peyton. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    She was staring at the assembled group, who weren¡¯t exactly pointing their guns at us, but hadn¡¯t lowered them either. ¡°Um.¡± Her voice was very tentative and uncertain. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I just wanna go home.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any idea why those guys grabbed you?¡± The fact that they had used what was apparently a stolen Tech-Touched weapon made me doubt that it was a completely random abduction. And I was really hoping this wasn¡¯t about to turn into a whole new mystery. I had enough of those.


    There was a brief pause before the girl explained, ¡°I was chatting with this guy online. We really hit it off. He was funny and everything. Then I found out that he was using his little brother¡¯s pictures. He was a lot older. So I broke it off and he got all upset. I never told him where I lived, but I guess he picked up on my school.¡±


    Turning a bit, I stared at her. ¡°Hold on, you¡¯re saying this whole thing is because one of those idiots that was in the car catfished an underaged girl and his response to that being broken off was to steal a super gun and kidnap you in broad daylight and then have a high speed chase?!¡± My voice got louder and more incredulous by the word. ¡°Which one was it, Larry, Curly, or Moe?¡±


    Coughing quietly, the girl nodded toward the vehicle. ¡°The¡­ um, idiot that¡¯s still in the car.¡±


    Before I could do more than give a sharp look that way, Framework cleared his throat for attention. When I turned to him, he announced, ¡°Mmmkay, you can take the genius. We¡¯ve had our pound of flesh.¡±


    My mouth opened, but said genius blurted from the car, ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?!¡±


    Framework was all too happy to explain. ¡°We found your address and torched your apartment.¡± To me, he added pointedly, ¡°Made sure there were no living things in it and contained the burn to only that apartment. Also put up a nice sign letting his neighbors know that this whole thing was because he tried to diddle a fifteen year old. Including pictures of their chat transcripts. Oh, and we sent the same thing to his employer, family, and university. So, you know, we figure we¡¯re even on the whole stealing our equipment issue.¡± After a brief pause, he asked flatly, ¡°We good here?¡±


    While I was still staring, Peyton leaned over and whispered, ¡±I¡¯m not supposed to root for the bad guys. Help.¡±


    Shaking my head, I muttered that I wasn¡¯t doing any better on that (and not just from today) before meeting Framework¡¯s gaze. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re good.¡±


    He held the look, then twirled his finger in a quick circular motion. ¡°Pack it up! We¡¯re gone!¡±


    And just like that, he, the rest of the troops down on the ground, and Fabulist all left. They simply walked away. I stayed tense for another couple seconds while watching just in case. But they didn¡¯t come back.


    Then a brief sound caught my attention. Turning quickly, I saw the man in the car starting to scramble out. Before he could get very far, however, Peyton stooped, picked a chunk of concrete off the ground, and smacked him in the face with it. It was an awkward swing that made it clear the girl had probably never thrown a punch in her life. But the sound of the smack was still satisfying. As was the man¡¯s yelp as he fell back into the car and held his nose.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d stay there if I was you,¡± I informed him while taking out my phone to call the authorities.


    ¡°Or don¡¯t. I¡¯m not averse to her hitting you a few more times.¡±


    *******


    Eventually, that was done with. Peyton was in the hands of the authorities, who could take her home. And her abductor (plus his buddies) were in custody.


    So that was one problem dealt with. I thought to avert another possible one by contacting the Seraphs to let them know why I was late. Not that I actually needed to, considering the person on the phone just said that they saw the news.


    I was in the midst of my third task, calling Wren to fill her in and thank her, when a voice spoke up from the side of the roof where I was standing. ¡°So who are they?¡±


    Turning quickly, I saw the figure from before with the television shows playing all over his silver costume. Fabulist, the holograms and illusions Tech guy. ¡°What? What do you want?¡± I snapped, suddenly wary.


    The man held up both hands, not that that made me feel any better. ¡°Easy. We¡¯re just curious where you¡¯re getting your tech from.¡± Turning his arm a bit, he showed me a screen on it that appeared to be a series of meters. ¡°We detect Touched-Tech. Scanner works even when you¡¯re not actively using it or just when you¡¯ve been around it recently. Makes it easier to track down our stuff. And you¡­ you¡¯ve been around very advanced stuff. We don¡¯t know what. Just that it¡¯s impressive. Cutting edge. But who makes it for you? It¡¯s none of us.¡±


    Wren. He wanted to know about Wren. Well, fuck that. Shaking my head, I replied, ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s on a need to know basis, and I don¡¯t see any reason you need to know that.¡± Oh, please don¡¯t let this turn into a fight now after I¡¯d managed to avoid one with these guys just a few minutes earlier.


    Thankfully, the man simply considered me for a moment longer before offering a shrug. ¡°We will find out in time. We are very interested in this tech.¡±


    I started to reply that he could go ahead and be interested, but the man simply vanished in a cloud of smoke. Given his particular proficiency, I wondered if he had even actually been standing there at all.


    Speaking of his proficiency, I quickly left the roof and made my way several blocks without saying or doing anything. Reaching a small park, I made my way into the outdoor restroom, locked the door, and stripped myself down. Then I spent ten minutes poring over the entire costume and helmet looking for any possible thing he could have stuck to it that could be a bug or something. I went over it with a fine tooth comb several times in my paranoia before then turning my attention to my phones. I carefully checked them as well, running virus checks and everything. Only then, after dressing once more, did I relax a little bit. As far as I could tell, I wasn¡¯t bugged. I¡¯d hoped not, considering as far as I knew, he never got near me. But given his powers and Touched Tech in general¡­ yeah. I was being careful.


    But the tech gang knew about Wren. Or at least that she existed. And it probably wouldn¡¯t take them long to find out more. I was going to have to warn her to be careful now that she had their interest. That whole thing could get really complicated really fast.


    When I called, she wanted to know everything that happened from the moment the news chopper lost sight of us. Apparently the holograms had led them on a wild goose chase far from the actual confrontation.


    So, I explained everything, including how it was resolved and that they had detected her technology.


    ¡°Wren, you better make sure you focus on your defenses now,¡± I insisted. ¡°You know how Braintrust is about recruiting. Make sure you¡¯re safe.¡±


    ¡°I am, I will!¡± she chirped. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Paintball, I¡¯ve got lots of ideas. It¡¯s gonna be great. Oh, and really safe, obviously. Those guys don¡¯t get to tell me what to do, or what to build, or who to build it for, or anything! I don¡¯t build for anybody but me! Um, and you! And people who buy stuff from me! But not bad guys! That¡¯s the important part. No bad guys.¡±


    Chuckling a little after extracting that promise for her to take care of herself, I thanked the kid a few more times for letting me know about the abduction. Assuring her that Peyton really was safe, I promised to come see her soon. Then I disconnected and exhaled. That was over. It had been a brief, though important distraction. But now I had to focus on the actual reason I was out here in the first place.


    Time to go see the Seraphs. And hope that I didn¡¯t run into any more kidnapping victims along the way.

 Fault 10-03

    Back when the fact that Seraph Hills had the piece of equipment Wren needed to complete that suit had come up, I¡¯d completely dismissed the idea of actually breaking into the place. Because while it was a ¡®university¡¯ in the strictest sense (with attached teaching hospital), it was also the Detroit headquarters of the Seraphs themselves. Hence the name. And the Seraphs were¡­ dangerous. Private security team or army, whichever someone wanted to call them. The point was, they were not ones to be fucked with. There was a reason they were able to keep their appointed locations safe and enforce neutral zones around medical places.


    Except for that children¡¯s hospital that Pencil and his people attacked, but that was one of the biggest reasons the Scions had been sure to block all communication out of the area. It kept the Seraphs from noticing what was happening and responding. And apparently the ones who were stationed at the hospital itself were drawn away somehow. I still wasn¡¯t sure on the specifics, but it was clearly a big deal behind the scenes that the public was only seeing a tiny hint about. I¡¯d heard my dad on the phone defending the Seraphs to the mayor and pointing out that it was her decision to have minimal Seraph forces in the hospital at the time. Something about having protection for the route the VIP¡¯s would be taking on their way in and out of the area.


    So yeah, the point was, I chose not to even attempt to break into that place at the time. Now here I was, about to go in there willingly¡­ and I still wasn¡¯t going to try to sneak in. Nope. Sure, Hallowed had made a comment about me maybe giving it a shot, but without having recorded evidence of him saying that? I wasn¡¯t going to play that kind of game. No, thank you. Especially not right after I¡¯d just gone through all that shit with those idiot kidnappers and Braintrust.


    Instead, I just strolled right up to the front gate (the medical school was surrounded by a well-guarded wall that looked like stone but was obviously something stronger) and looked at the guard in the little hut there while he watched me over the top of his ipad. ¡°Hiya,¡± I started when it was clear the man wasn¡¯t going to speak first, ¡°appointment for Paintball with Hallowed? I know I¡¯m late, but you would not believe the traffic.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t smile. He just stared at me for another few seconds, like he was sizing me up. Then he set down the ipad and announced in a flat, emotionless voice, ¡°Prove you¡¯re him.¡±


    That was the same thing the cop on my way into the courthouse had said. Did bad guys or nut jobs dress up as established Touched a lot and try to fake their way into places? That sounded dangerous for everyone involved. In any case, I did so, touching my hand against the nearby wall and insta-painting a cartoonish rendition of the guard himself. ¡°Good enough?¡± I asked. ¡°Or would you prefer a whole comic page? I could make you fight Dracula or something.¡±


    ¡°My kids would like that,¡± the man replied, apparently taking it entirely seriously. ¡°Not on the wall, but a book. Think it over and let me know what you charge. I can give you a fair price for it.¡±


    Taken aback that my joke had been treated like an actual offer, I stumbled a bit over my words. ¡°Oh, umm, I¨Cyeah, I can¨CI mean I¡¯ll think about¡­ right, yeah. Wait, are you being serious?¡±


    ¡°My son likes that sort of thing,¡± the man informed me. ¡°In fact, if I bring you a picture of him, could you involve him in the story? His birthday¡¯s coming up and I didn¡¯t know what to get him.¡±


    Quickly, I nodded. ¡°Um, uh, sure, yeah, I mean¡­ let me¨Cyeah. I can totally whip something up for you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t whip it up,¡± the man retorted, taking my words literally once more. ¡°If I¡¯m paying you for it, I want you to spend some time to make it right. Come visit after your appointment, we can hash out the details. I¡¯ll talk to my ex and find out what kind of things Josh might like in a story.¡±


    After I hurriedly agreed and promised to come back to talk to him about the details of the picture book for his son¡¯s birthday, the man buzzed me through the gate, with instructions to follow the sidewalk beyond to a labeled waiting area, where I would be met and taken to my meeting.


    Stepping through the open gate, I looked around. It looked like¡­ well, a university campus. There were several clearly school-related buildings arranged in a vague U shape straight ahead of me, with a grassy area in the middle where students were walking around, sitting under trees, or on benches that lined the twin brick paths. To the right were a line of what looked mostly like administrative and faculty buildings.


    Off in the distance to the left I could see the actual teaching hospital. They took real patients and everything there, it was just that a lot of the medical personnel were still learning. Or something like that. The hospital was set away from the rest of the campus, with a whole small park area separating them. I was still near the school part, and the guard¡¯s directions sent me even further away from the hospital, to the right along the sidewalk where those administrative buildings were. Ahead, I saw the promised sign pointing me into a small, two-story structure with a lot of windows.


    On the way to that building, I passed a few groups of students. A few looked up, but no one said anything. They were all either too absorbed in hurrying to their next class, or they were just so accustomed to seeing Touched around there, given it was the Seraph base, that it just didn¡¯t faze them at all. Probably a bit of both.


    Either way, no one bothered me. Though I did get a couple distracted waves before making it to the labeled welcoming center. Stepping through the doors, I saw a lot of posters and informational fliers about new student acclimation, applying for scholarships, registration, that kind of thing. Crazy stuff for a Welcome Center to have, for sure.


    The elderly woman behind the nearby counter looked up as I came in and offered me a smile. I¡¯d never actually met my grandparents, but it still made me think of a grandmotherly expression. ¡°Oh, hello, dear. I hope that poor girl you were trying to help is safe now?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I replied easily, ¡°she¡¯s fine. Ticked off at the guy who thought ¡®no you¡¯re a gross old pervert¡¯ meant ¡®throw me in the back of your car to woo me¡¯, but other than that¡­ yeah.¡± I was trying to play it off a bit, but seriously, that whole situation just gave me the heebie jeebies. To say the least. Outside of the Touched-Tech gun, that had all just been a normal creep kidnapping the teenage girl who told him to buzz off after he catfished her online. In some ways, that was worse than the totally outlandish stuff I¡¯d already seen. Because it was just¡­ normal. In a totally skeevy, horrible way.


    Making a tutting sound at that news, the old lady primly announced, ¡°Young men like that need a stern talking-to. And a good visit from a wooden spoon on their knuckles. You remember that, yes? Doesn¡¯t matter how famous and popular you get in the course of all this superheroing and such, you treat your young ladies with respect. Or young men, if that¡¯s your fancy. Don¡¯t make no never-mind to old Tricia.¡±


    My small smile was hidden behind the mask and helmet, as I nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, ma¡¯am, if I ever acted like that guy, I might just break my own jaw. I¡¯d sure deserve it. And trust me, he¡¯s gonna have a good long time to think about what he did. Well,¡± I amended thoughtfully, ¡°a long time anyway. I don¡¯t know about good.¡±


    Picking up a nearby glass bowl full of hard candy, the woman insisted, ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Now, you take a handful of these and have them later, you hear me? Miss Patchwork will be here to see you soon. Until she makes it, feel free to have a seat right over there.¡± With the bowl, she pointed toward some leather chairs arranged in the corner near a television that was playing some news station. That was probably how the lady here had seen what I¡¯d been up to earlier.


    ¡°Patchwork?¡± I echoed while obediently taking a few pieces of candy. I knew who that was, but¡­ ¡°I guess that means I¡¯m not seeing Hallowed today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid he¡¯s a bit busy at the moment,¡± Tricia informed me. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, Miss Patchwork will take very good care of you. She¡¯s a sweet girl.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    That, apparently, was the cue for one of the nearby interior doors to basically slam open. The costumed girl who emerged seemed to be in her late teens or early twenties. She wore black leather pants, motorcycle boots, a black mesh shirt over dark green body armor that covered her upper half, black motorcycle gloves, and a green visor that matched the armor across the top of her face, between her nose and forehead. Her hair was dyed green and cut short and spiky.


    ¡°Hey you!¡± the new arrival demanded, pointing my way. ¡°You¡¯re that fucking¡­ guest newbie guy I¡¯m supposed to put to work or whatever, right? Come on, I¡¯ve got shit to do, let¡¯s go.¡± She whistled while making a ¡®round up¡¯ gesture with her finger, pivoted on her heel, and headed back the way she¡¯d come. ¡°Move your ass, we don¡¯t have all day!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, dear,¡± Tricia assured me in a low voice, ¡°she¡¯s really quite pleasant when you get to know her.¡±


    So, I followed, of course. We passed out of the waiting area and into a narrow corridor. As the two of us approached some kind of laser grid security system, the older girl glanced at me. ¡°So, I know you¡¯re Paintball. You know who I am?¡±


    ¡°Patchwork,¡± I replied simply. ¡°You heal people. Um, sort of.¡±


    She snorted at that while stopping by the laser grid and looking at me once more. ¡°Heal people, sort of. Yeah, that¡¯s a good way to put it. I touch anything that¡¯s alive, focus on one specific part of them like their leg, their lungs, their eyes, and then I can copy the state of that part onto anyone else I touch within five minutes. Say Billy Bob has a busted leg, I can touch Susie-Q¡¯s perfectly intact leg, copy that perfect intactness, and then touch Billy Bob and heal the leg. You know what my two limitations for that are?¡±


    I hesitated before answering slowly. ¡°Um, you can¡¯t copy your own physical state, you need someone else to touch for the healing to work. Plus it¡¯s really specific, like, you can¡¯t copy someone¡¯s left leg to heal someone¡¯s right leg. And um, it¡¯s really temporary if the person doesn¡¯t have powers.¡±


    ¡°Two hours,¡± Patchwork confirmed. ¡°If the person I¡¯m healing isn¡¯t Touched, everything I do disappears in two hours and they go back to the way they were. Works pretty well for stabilizing them to get to a hospital, but it¡¯s no miracle cure.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still really cool,¡± I assured her. ¡°Plus, maybe you can¡¯t copy your own physical state, but you still do that cool transformation thing.¡±


    That earned me a toothy smile. Very toothy. She literally showed wolf fangs before winking. ¡°It is pretty cool, huh?¡±


    It was. She wasn¡¯t limited to just copying the physical state of things when she touched people (or animals). She could also copy the parts themselves and then make them appear on herself any time she wanted after that. Like the wolf fangs she was showing me. Or a giant turtle shell I¡¯d seen her manifest in a video once. Apparently, if she used her power on something enough times and manifested all the different parts at once, she could do full shape-shifting. Animal or human. Between that and the healing aspect of her power, yes, it was very cool.


    When I nodded, she continued. ¡°Great, so here¡¯s the deal. You, unlike all those ninnies running around out there, are Touched. So, if you¡¯re doing your superhero thing and you get hurt, you gimme a call and next time I¡¯ve got space and energy to squeeze you in, I¡¯ll see what I can do. Fair?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ yeah, fair.¡± I quickly nodded, a bit overwhelmed by all that. ¡°Call you if I need healing.¡±


    ¡°Not all the fucking time,¡± she was quick to snap. ¡°I mean if you really need it. I ain¡¯t your own personal fucking medic. Got lots of people who need it, and I don¡¯t fucking relish being anyone¡¯s living band-aid. And if it¡¯s not life or death, you sure as shit better be ready to pay for it, either with cash or some kind of trade, favor, whatever. But yeah, if you need it and you¡¯re ready to pay, give a shout and I¡¯ll see what I can do. Especially if it helps keep your identity secret. We all know what a bitch that can be.¡±


    That much said, Patchwork tapped some kind of code into the nearby console, and the laser grid deactivated. Then she waved me through and we walked on. ¡°Anyway, you¡¯re here to do something useful to make up for taking our shit without permission. And that starts right in here.¡±


    With that, she stopped at a door, pushing it open to reveal a place that looked¡­ well, it looked like a tornado had hit it. The room was maybe a hundred feet by forty feet, rectangular, and a total and complete disaster area. Seriously, the walls were peeling and looked ugly, there were some holes in them, the whole floor was covered in various bits of debris, overturned chairs, broken desks, a half dozen filing cabinets were overturned and had papers strewn everywhere, and more. It looked like a tornado hit the place.


    ¡°Yeah, looks like shit, huh?¡± the girl beside me bluntly remarked. ¡°We had some¡­ issues in here. It¡¯s been like this for awhile. Long story and I ain¡¯t getting into it. Point is, you¡¯re gonna clean it up. See all those papers and folders and shit? Get all that off the floor. Move the filing cabinets into the room across the hall, fill them with the folders in alphabetical order. Take the broken furniture, rubble, and everything else that can¡¯t be fixed down the hall to the freight elevator and then down to the bottom floor and stack it on the loading dock you¡¯ll see there. Then use the phone in the hall, dial zero and ask for Bernard. Tell him you need help fixing up the holes. When that¡¯s done, you can paint the floor and walls something nice and pleasant for kids to be around. This place is gonna be some kinda playroom or something. You can go elaborate with images they¡¯ll like, or just keep it basic. Whatever, I don¡¯t care.¡±


    That all said, the woman watched me for a moment before dryly adding, ¡°And don¡¯t worry, we don¡¯t expect you to do all that in one day. Come in whenever you get some time, do a bit of work, then leave again.¡±


    ¡°And the umm, the lasers?¡± I asked, glancing into the hall.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a guest code to get past them,¡± she replied. ¡°It¡¯ll let you on this floor, into the freight elevator to go straight down, and give you phone access. Do I really have to¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t wander, got it,¡± I confirmed, giving her a thumbs up. ¡°Just clean this place up, make it pretty for the kids, and I can come whenever I get some free time.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t make us wait months without seeing progress,¡± Patchwork retorted, before pivoting on her heel. ¡°There¡¯s one more thing when you¡¯re done with all this, but his royal highness told me to wait until then. You need anything else?¡± Even as she asked it, the woman was almost out the door.


    ¡°Um, no, I think I get the¨C¡± I started.


    ¡°Two, one, zero, nine,¡± she called back. ¡°Two, ten, nine. That¡¯s your guest pass to get in, got it? Shouldn¡¯t be an issue because Tricia won¡¯t let anyone past her who isn¡¯t supposed to be here. But still, redundancies. Check in with her anytime you come in, put in the guest pass at the security system there whenever you pass through it, then check out with Tricia or whoever happens to be sitting there whenever you fuck off, got it? Oh, and our regular working hours start at six and end at midnight, so don¡¯t show up outside of those hours.¡±


    With that, she was gone, off to do¡­ whatever her next job was. Watching the empty doorway for a moment, I finally shrugged and turned to the room in front of me.


    Right¡­ well, time to get to work. A little manual labor wouldn¡¯t be too bad, right?


    *****


    Fuck manual labor.


    Okay, okay, it wasn¡¯t that bad. And God knew I could use the actual work. It definitely wouldn¡¯t kill me. I just¡­ definitely wasn¡¯t accustomed to this sort of thing. At least having my purple paint for strength and red paint to move things around (with orange to protect it from damage) helped with the heavier stuff. But still, a lot of it was just¡­ boring. It took most of the first couple hours just to start getting some kind of organization and to get most of the folders and bits of paper that I could see (moving some of the furniture pieces to get at buried piles), and to move the filing cabinets themselves into the other room. Never mind sorting through all those files to put them in alphabetical order in the cabinets.


    Yeah, this was going to take awhile. I would have to go back soon. But for the moment, I was done. As I was on my way out the door, however, my work phone buzzed. I checked, and the message was from Eits. It read, ¡®Got bit 4 thing we talked about. U good 2 read? What did u help me get from roof?¡¯


    Right, he wanted me to tell him that it was safe to send sensitive information, and proof I was the right person. Glancing around, I sent back, ¡®Yes. Baseball.¡¯


    A moment later, the next message came in. ¡®Got records from middle school on Banners, link to file at bottom. Adopted age twelve, earlier records heavy sealed. Need physical access 2 get further. No link 4 Banners/Anthony Tate. No link 4 Banners/supervillain. No Tate school records. Homeschooled. Need info on crash that killed Tate family, check survivor.¡¯


    Frowning, I sent back a quick, ¡®Survivor?¡¯


    The response came, ¡®Security consultant. Went with Tate family to Texas. Was in car at crash. Survived. Gave witness testimony. Retired. Picture coming.¡¯


    A moment later, the promised image came in, and I did a double-take. I knew the guy I was looking at! I knew him! It was Robert Parson, this guy who used to drive me around when I was younger. He was basically a bodyguard, then he just sort of¡­ disappeared. I remembered really liking Rob¨CBobby. I called him Bobby.


    But what did my old bodyguard have to do with Anthony Tate? Why was he with the family when they crashed down in Texas? I.. did he kill them? The thought made my blood go cold. Did my old bodyguard, the guy I remember thinking was so cool and brave¡­ kill that little boy and his family?


    One thing was for sure¡­ I was going to find out.

 Fault 10-04

    Apparently, it wasn¡¯t exactly easy to find out where a retired security agent slash bodyguard to the rich and powerful like Robert Parson lived. He didn¡¯t have an address listed online, a Facebook profile, or anything like that. Probably because being in that line of work tended to introduce you to a lot of people who would do very bad things with that kind of information.


    Still, Eits promised he could get me something soon. It would just take awhile. So, for the moment, I was stuck on that front. Just like I was stuck on most fronts. Aside from getting the details about that guard guy¡¯s son (his name was Matthew Orens, while his son was Josh) so I could make up a storybook for him.


    Other than that, I still had to find out what was up with Paige, but had no idea of how to get information out of her when she hated my civilian self and wanted to protect my Touched self. I had no idea how to sneak into that mall base without getting caught so I could find out more about my family that way. And Tomas¡¯s dad was still holed up in meetings in their house, making snooping around there totally impossible.


    So, that was my situation as of two days (now Friday of the first week in April) after my first time at Seraph HQ. Basically, I was in a holding pattern for the moment on everything. Which was kind of okay in some ways, because I had a shit load of homework to do. And I had to do it, or Mom and Dad would wonder what was keeping me so busy that I couldn¡¯t keep up with my classes. Which I really didn¡¯t want them to do. They had to keep thinking that my life was completely normal, boring, safe, and all that.


    To that end, I was sitting in the library during lunch hour, poring over some notes while filling in a worksheet for math. I was so focused on the problems on the page in front of me (and the much more personal problems filling up an entire vault in the back of my head) that I didn¡¯t notice the other problem make her way into the library until she was right up at the edge of the table.


    ¡°Aww, look at this,¡± Paige announced to a couple of the random cronies who liked to follow her around looking for scraps, ¡°a little boy wandered into school and got lost.¡± She adopted a tone like she was talking to a child then, leaning in with wide, expressive eyes. ¡°Hiya, little buddy. Are you sure you shouldn¡¯t be with the rest of the seventh grade in the other school? This¡­¡± She made an exaggerated encompassing motion with her finger. ¡°¡­ is the big people library.¡±


    I counted to three before responding, but it didn¡¯t help. Maybe I should¡¯ve counted longer. Or not engaged at all. Instead, I plastered a fake smile to my face and turned to look at the taller girl. ¡°Wow! Library! That¡¯s a big word, Paige!¡± My voice dropped, turning dark. ¡°Can you spell it?¡±


    The glare that she shot right back at me was almost chilling. ¡°Sure,¡± the girl all-but snarled. ¡°Library. It starts with L. As in¡­¡± She reached out to poke me firmly in the forehead. ¡°Loser.¡±


    Okay, I definitely should have left it alone there. I should¡¯ve gotten up and walked away. That was the right thing to do, the mature thing to do. I, however, did not do the right, mature thing. It was just¡­ too much. Everything I¡¯d taken in lately, everything I¡¯d found out and was putting up with, the stress of having no idea what to do next about any of it, was just¡­ it was too much.


    So, I did what I really shouldn¡¯t have. I took a swing at her. Lunging up from the chair and turning, I lashed out with a wild punch. Paige, taken completely by surprise, took the punch on her cheek and reeled with a yelp. She tripped over her own feet and fell backward, her hand reflexively grabbing for something and catching my extended arm to pull me down as well. She hit the floor on her back a second before I landed on top of her, still surprised not only by that little fall, but also by the fact that I¡¯d swung at her at all. I hadn¡¯t meant to do that.


    Before I could recover (and while Paige herself still looked totally shocked by the whole situation), two different people grabbed me by the shoulders and arms to pull me off of the other girl. One was Mandy, one of Paige¡¯s devoted lackeys/¡¯friends.¡¯ The other was just some slightly older guy, a senior who had been studying a couple tables over before all this started.


    ¡°What in the hell is going on over here?¡± The demanding voice came from one of the senior year teachers, a pot-bellied man with short blond hair wearing a dark suit with red suspenders visible through the open jacket. He was already walking (more like stalking) our way, looking between Paige and me as her other friend helped the girl up. ¡°Just what do you kids think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Still breathing hard, I felt a rush of embarrassment and horror wash over me. What the hell was I doing? How did I let this happen? Why would I¨Cdamn it! My only solace was that at least I hadn¡¯t been stupid enough to use any powers in my anger, but still. Taking a swing at Paige, actually hitting her? How was that going to help anything? What the hell was wrong with me?


    Before I could actually find my voice, Paige actually spoke. ¡°Nothing,¡± she said flatly, drawing surprised looks not only from me, but from the teacher and both lackeys too. One of the other girls opened her mouth to say something, only to get quickly elbowed by the one next to her.


    The teacher raised an eyebrow. ¡°Excuse me, Miss Banners? Are you really trying to tell me that you and Miss Evans here weren¡¯t just brawling across the floor of the library a moment ago?¡±


    Somehow, I restrained the urge to reflexively agree with the man about how baffling that claim was. The senior student, who had still been holding my arm up to that point, released me and stepped out of the way, shrugging helplessly at the teacher as though he was just as confused.


    Paige, meanwhile, simply gave a short nod. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. We weren¡¯t fighting. Cassidy over there just jumped up too fast, we collided, and fell down.¡± She gave me a very brief look before turning back to the man, her voice careless and disinterested. ¡°Her head hit my face. It was a dumb accident.¡± Eyes shifting back toward me to squint a bit, she added pointedly, ¡°Wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    I honestly had no idea why she was doing this. It was her big chance to actually get me in trouble. She hadn¡¯t hit me first or anything. I had totally and completely started the actual physical fight. Hell, Paige hadn¡¯t actually hit me at all. And she had three witnesses (two of whom were her friends, but I was pretty sure she didn¡¯t even know the older boy) to back that up. Yet, despite all that, she was claiming this wasn¡¯t a fight at all. Why would she do that? Why? What was her angle?


    Realizing everyone was looking at me, I belatedly gave a short nod. Confused as I was (and while part of me thought this might be a trap of some kind), there was no way I was going to argue right now. My voice was tight. ¡°Yeah,¡± I managed to get out. ¡°It was just an accident.¡±


    From the way he looked between us, I was almost positive that the teacher didn¡¯t actually buy that. For a moment, it seemed like he was trying to decide if this was worth pursuing when both of us were claiming it wasn¡¯t a fight. In the end, he must¡¯ve decided against it, because the man just gave a short nod. ¡°Fine. It was just an accident then. But¡­¡± He looked at me, squinting. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can try to avoid any more of these accidents for awhile, shall we, Miss Evans?¡±


    Meeting his gaze, I swallowed slightly before nodding. I definitely agreed with that. As angry and frustrated as Paige tended to make me, I couldn¡¯t just go around attacking her. Even if she totally deserved that punch and maybe a few¨Cno, Cassidy, stop it right now. Shutting down that line of thought, I made myself answer as politely as possible, ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll be more careful.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Accepting that after watching me for a long moment, the teacher replied, ¡°See that you do. Because if something like this comes up again, I promise you that the other faculty will know where it started. And we won¡¯t let it go again.¡± With that warning, the man turned to walk out of the library, grabbing his briefcase satchel off the table where he¡¯d dropped it on his way over.


    Once he was gone, the older student who had helped pick me up looked at me. ¡°Uh, you¡­¡± He paused, trying to decide how much he should say before eventually settling on, ¡°You good?¡±


    I nodded, not trusting my voice, and the boy turned toward Paige. ¡°For the record, I don¡¯t know what your game is, but you totally had that punch coming. I think¨C¡± Stopping himself, the boy finally shook his head. ¡°Whatever, I¡¯m not getting into the drama. Just stop being a bitch.¡±


    He left then as well, walking out of the room. Halfway out, however, the boy stopped and frowned before looking back at me. ¡°Hey, you coming?¡± He asked me. Clearly, he¡¯d thought twice about leaving me alone in the library with Paige and her friends after what just happened.


    Honestly, he had a point. There was no way I was going to get anywhere with Paige right now. Not after I¡¯d just hit her and she had a couple hangers-on standing around. She might¡¯ve not wanted to escalate things to the school authorities for some reason (maybe just to keep herself out of the spotlight), but I was under no delusion that that would suddenly make us friends. In fact, I was pretty sure she was already planning out how to get her own form of revenge.


    So, I gave a short nod, grabbed my books from the table, and started out. On the way, I glanced back to Paige and her friends. All three were staring after me. The other two were glaring, their looks making it clear that they at least wanted to pay me back. Paige, on the other hand, looked different. Her expression was basically unreadable. She didn¡¯t seem angry, more¡­ curious?


    Whatever, maybe that just meant she was quietly plotting. Either way, I didn¡¯t want to be in that room, so I followed the boy out to the hall, trying not to think about what would come next with Paige. The whole way, I was silently berating myself for losing my cool and taking that swing.


    ¡°Hey,¡± the boy who was walking with me started as soon as we were out, ¡°seriously, you okay? That chick really did have it coming for that shit in there, but uhh¡­¡± He paused, glancing at the now-closed doors of the library where Paige and her friends were. ¡°I¡¯d watch your back from now on. She and her minions don¡¯t really strike me as people who just let stuff like that go.¡±


    As he spoke, I took another look at him. He was on the handsome side of things, though not quite as jaw-droppingly gorgeous as Tomas. Much taller than me, of course, but that wasn¡¯t saying much. My best guess was that he was maybe an inch over six feet, with long brown hair that he wore in a ponytail. The school uniform (black pants, black blazer, and blue shirt) he was wearing had been personalized with a dark pink tie instead of the normal white one. People earned the right to wear different-colored ties (though the actual color still had to be approved by a faculty member) through various school services. It was a reward sort of thing. I wasn¡¯t sure why he¡¯d chosen to go with pink.


    ¡°Uhh, yeah, probably not.¡± There was no need to get into the whole history between Paige and me (even the public version), so I just shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eyes open.¡± Starting to turn, I stopped, looking back with an awkward, ¡°Thanks for, you know, jumping in back there.¡±


    ¡°No worries,¡± he replied. ¡°You¡¯re uh, Cassidy Evans, right?¡± His chin inclined. ¡°I¡¯m Owen Kright.¡±


    ¡°Yup, that¡¯s me,¡± I confirmed. It wasn¡¯t surprising that he knew who I was. It wasn¡¯t like my family was exactly private. ¡°Wait, Owen Kright, didn¡¯t you used to drive that awesome seventy-eight Firebird? I used to wait for you to pull in just so I could see it. What happened? I haven¡¯t seen it in the lot lately.¡±


    With a grimace, the boy replied, ¡°Dad. Gotta get the grades back up or the car¡¯s not the only thing I¡¯ll be missing. That¡¯s why I was in the library to begin with.¡±


    It was my turn to grimace. ¡°Sorry we interrupted you then. Trust me, the last thing I want is to be responsible for keeping a hot thing like that off the streets.¡±


    His mouth opened, then shut as he coughed before shaking his head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, like I said, it wasn¡¯t your fault. But ahh, I do have to run if I¡¯m gonna grab food before class starts. Mr. Tanners lets us bring food into class, but I kinda need to have the food to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, yeah.¡± Giving a quick nod, I waved him off. ¡°Say no more. Flee for your food.¡±


    He started to, before slowing to look over his shoulder. ¡°Hey, since you¡¯re into that kind of thing, if I get my car back, maybe you can take it for a spin once you get your license. Let me know!¡±


    Waving blankly at him, I frowned thoughtfully to myself for a moment before shaking it off. The hallway was pretty busy, so I stepped into the passing line of people and headed for my own locker.


    With any luck, I could get through the rest of the day without any more confrontations with Paige.


    ******


    Luck was with me. Sort of. Enough that I didn¡¯t have another run-in with Paige for the rest of the day (I saw her, but we ignored each other), but not enough that I actually got answers to any of the many problems I still had to deal with. Apparently ¡®not making things even worse¡¯ was going to have to be good enough.


    After being brought home by Jefferson, I thanked him and stepped out of the car in front of the house. Hearing a sound from behind me, I turned just in time to see Dad coming out of the front door, accompanied by another man. This guy basically seemed to embody ¡®distinguished handsome¡¯. He looked like George Clooney in his prime. He and my father were deep in conversation until they both saw me, then immediately stopped talking.


    ¡°Ah, Eric, this is my daughter, Cassidy.¡± Dad gestured to me, then to the man. ¡°Cassidy, this is Eric Abbot, a business associate.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised we haven¡¯t met before,¡± Mr. Abbot announced, extending a hand to me. ¡°Your father and I have been doing business for a long time.¡±


    Right, so which supervillain was he? That was the first thought that popped into my head, even as I accepted the man¡¯s offered hand. Belatedly, I found my voice. ¡°You must be friends then.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯d like to think so,¡± he replied, giving my hand a firm shake before releasing it. ¡°Good enough friends that I know you¡¯ll be getting your license soon. Your father says you¡¯re bouncing off the walls about it.¡±


    With a soft chuckle, Dad spoke up. ¡°Normally, anyway. I think the kid¡¯s trying to play it cool lately to convince me she¡¯s mature.¡± He pointed at me then. ¡°But I¡¯m onto you. I see all. Remember, I know when you¡¯ve been bad or good.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Santa,¡± I pointed out mildly.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± My father gave me a look. ¡°And if you think that proves me wrong, have I got some interesting news for you, Sparky.¡±


    After another minute of back and forth (that actually made me even more sad as it went on for how much it made me think of the great times I¡¯d had with my dad), the two of them excused themselves to head out. The last thing I heard between the two was Dad telling Mr. Abbot that he and ¡®Melissa¡¯ (his wife?) would have to come over for dinner some time. Then they got in the car with Jefferson and drove off.


    Shaking my head and muttering under my breath, I had just turned back to head into the house once more when my phone buzzed. Belatedly, I realized it was my extra phone, the one I used for Touched stuff. With a brief look around to make sure I was clear, I checked the text. It was from a number I didn¡¯t recognize, reading, ¡®Wtf did you do?¡¯ Even as I stared at that in confusion, a second message came in from the same number. ¡®It¡¯s Pack. Call.¡¯


    What did I do? What did I do? Confused, I hesitated before turning away from the house. I trotted off the grounds, leaving through the gate with a wave to the guard there and an explanation that I was going for a walk.


    Only when I was safely away from home did I hit the button to dial the number Pack was calling from. And only while it was ringing did I think to quickly turn on the voice changer program. It came to life just as the phone was answered. ¡°Paintball?¡±


    ¡°Pack?¡± I replied after giving a quick look around the empty street. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Are you o¨C¡±


    ¡°What the fuck did you say to Eits? What was he doing for you?¡± came the quick interruption.


    ¡°Uhh, wait, what do you¨C¡±


    That was as far as I got before Pack pushed on. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll give you an address. You better get your ass down here. And you better be ready to explain what the hell is going on.


    ¡°Because whatever Eits was doing for you, some motherfuckers just beat the shit out of him because of it. Paintball, it¡¯s¡­ you¡­ fuck, you just better get here soon.


    ¡°He¡¯s in really bad shape.¡±

 Fault 10-05

    No, no, no, please no. Oh God, please, no, no.


    That single word of denial, repeated and mixed with other words of emphasis, played through my head in a nonstop loop the entire time I was retrieving my costume and setting out to get to the address that Pack had sent me. As I raced through the city in what amounted to a blind panic, barely paying attention to where I was going, the word ¡®no¡¯ echoed in my mind over and over again.


    He was hurt. Eits was hurt really bad. I didn¡¯t know how. I didn¡¯t know who hurt him or what exactly they¡¯d done. But I did know one horrible thing for sure. It was my fault. He was working for me. He was trying to help me, and someone found out. Eits was hurt because of me. According to Pack, it was really bad. Because of me. It was my fault.


    Unfortunately, paint-running through the city like that without paying attention was a bad idea. Which I could¡¯ve already guessed, but was driven even more firmly into me about halfway into my run. Landing on a rooftop the wrong way, I stumbled, slipped, and rolled hard. I nearly went off the edge before two hands suddenly caught my wrist and halted my momentum.


    A sharp gasp came as the person who had caught me was nearly yanked off the roof herself. But she managed to stop us both, and I was left with just one leg and a foot dangling over the edge as I lay mostly on my back staring up at the sky and panting as the panicked rush of the last couple of seconds since I¡¯d landed washed over me. Oh God, I needed to throw up. Not that I hadn¡¯t kind of needed to since the moment Pack let me know what was going on, but still.


    In that position, my arm was fully extended as it was held in the grasp of the person who had caught me. First, I saw her hands. They were covered by dark blue, almost black gloves with intricate, almost runic lines that ran up through both sides of the arms and across the palms and back of the gloves themselves. My eyes moved further up, seeing a figure who was probably around my age. The blue-black bodysuit she wore was partially covered by a white short-sleeved robe with an attached hood that mostly hid her dark hair. The bottom half of her face was concealed by a black cloth mask, but I could see enough of the top half to know she was Asian. Her eyes were dark, and in that moment, had widened dramatically.


    I also knew exactly who she was at that first glance, reflexively blurting, ¡°Skip?!¡±


    Yeah, it was definitely her. I hadn¡¯t had any direct run-ins with the girl until now, but I did know two members of her family. Caishen was her older sister, which made Lightning Bug her niece. Despite being a teenager, she wasn¡¯t part of the Minority, instead sticking with her sister¡¯s Ten Towers team. Which was somewhat rare, but not unheard of. And given what I knew about how much control Silversmith, aka my father, had over the Minority, it was definitely a good thing.


    As soon as I said her name, she released my arm and stepped back. Her voice, when she spoke, was an eerily calm murmur. ¡°You should be careful.¡± The words were almost, but not quite, emotionless. It was more like she was noting that the weather would be rainy the next day than an actual reprimand. She was stating a simple fact. ¡°You could have been hurt.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± The terrible rush of fear about what was happening with Eits came back full force in that moment, along with brand new guilt to layer on top of what was already there. ¡°Right, sorry. I was distracted. I¡­ I¡¯ll be careful. But I ahh, I¡¯ve really gotta go.¡± Weakly, I gestured. ¡°I¡¯ve got a¡­ umm, a friend, sort of. He¡¯s hurt, and I need to get there just in ca¨CI need to be there to help.¡±


    Again, Skip spoke in a simple, emotionless and matter-of-fact voice. ¡°Why are you telling me then? If it¡¯s important, you should go.¡± Just like before, despite the actual words, I had the sense that she didn¡¯t intend any kind of admonishment. She was simply stating the blatant fact that if I had an important place to be like that, I should already be going there instead of talking to her.


    ¡°Right, uhh, yeah.¡± Quickly pushing myself up, I swallowed back the tidal rush of feelings that came with the thought of Eits being hurt. ¡°Thanks for your help, I¡­ I¡¯ve gotta go.¡±


    It felt awkward, but I turned, using red paint to yank myself away from that roof while resolving to be more careful. Upset as I was, it wouldn¡¯t exactly do any good if I managed to put myself into a coma by falling off a building because I wasn¡¯t paying attention to where I was going.


    Continuing on my way, I let myself think briefly about the girl I¡¯d just met. Skip. From what I¡¯d read about her and seen online, her whole deal was¡­ well, skipping things. This came out in two main ways. First, she could ¡®skip¡¯ any effect on herself she wanted to. That included everything from skipping the effects of a poison she drank, to skipping the effect of being shot in the head, or even skipping the need to sleep and being instantly rejuvenated. The only thing that was required was that she be aware of the effect and actively use her power on it. Other than that, anything that directly affected her in some way, she could skip.


    The other way her power (and source of her name) manifested was in movement. Whenever the girl wanted, she could instantly appear anywhere she¡¯d been at any point in the previous twenty-four hours. Basically, she could rewind herself, ¡®skipping¡¯ backwards and forwards along the history of her own movement. She used it long-range in order to effectively teleport anywhere in the city (and, as I understood it, into other cities across the state), and short-range by constantly changing her exact location in the middle of a fight. Bad guys facing her didn¡¯t just have to deal with a crazy-good fighter (which she was), but also one who could literally instantly disappear and reappear in any location she¡¯d been in at any point throughout that fight.  Between that and being able to make herself immune to any effect she was aware of¡­ yeah, I could see how Fell-Touched would see fighting her as a pain in the ass. And why her sister wanted her right where she was, as part of Ten Towers.


    The plus side of being distracted thinking about Skip instead of obsessing over Eits for the next few minutes was that I was able to reach the address I¡¯d been given without any more issues. I stopped on top of a bakery roof, half-hiding behind the chimney there as I looked down at the place I was supposed to go. It looked like an ordinary house, with nothing special to make it stand out. The driveway had a couple cars in it, with a van parked along the curb. There was a man smoking out front, watching the street with an air like he¡¯d been there for awhile.


    According to Pack¡¯s message, they were expecting me. So, I hesitated just for a moment before taking a running start, and blue painting myself into the air so I could land in front of the man. I made sure to give him some space so that he wouldn¡¯t freak out too much. Even then, he reached for something in his jacket. Probably a gun. But he stopped partway, squinting at me for a moment before stepping aside from the door. His voice was flat, and carried an air of resignation. ¡°You can go inside. Third door on the left. But just so you know, we move all the time. So there¡¯s no point to bringing your hero friends here to start shit later. Cuz we¡¯ll be gone.¡±


    Yeah, call me crazy, but I had the feeling this guy didn¡¯t much like having a Star-Touched hanging around what was apparently a secret underground field hospital thing for Fell-Touched. I also didn¡¯t want to argue with him or try to reassure the guy. All I wanted was to see what was going on with Eits. So, I nodded and walked past him. Moving through the front door and into what turned out to be the living room of the house, I was greeted by a new man sitting on the nearby couch, who pointed through the room to the same door that the man outside had mentioned. Following both instructions, I walked across the room, heading for that door.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    The door opened as I approached, and Pack appeared. She stared at me through her featureless mask for a moment before beckoning as she stepped inside. I followed, and found myself in what was obviously a converted bedroom. Now it looked like a hospital room.


    Eits was¡­ there. He was there on the bed, and just as promised, he¡­ he looked bad. He wasn¡¯t wearing his mask, But I wouldn¡¯t have recognized him anyway through all the bruising. Pack had not been exaggerating. Whoever attacked Eits had¡­ they hurt him really bad. His nose was broken, his lips were all puffy and bloodied, there was a large bruise along one full side of his face. His eyes were closed, showing signs of being bruised as well, and the rest of his body hadn¡¯t fared much better. It was all¡­ bad. No matter where I looked, some part of him was hurt. It was so bad. My stomach seized up in worse knots just looking at him.


    Pack was speaking quietly behind me. ¡°The doctor¡¯ll be back in a few minutes. He¡¯s stabilized for now and they¡¯ve got him drugged up to sleep. Soon as the doc says he¡¯s good enough to move, they¡¯ll take him to one of Blackjack¡¯s own places. But I thought you¡¯d like to know. I thought you¡¯d like to¨C¡± She stopped herself from saying whatever it was she¡¯d been about to say, voice cracking a bit before looking over to me. ¡°He called for help. Broadway and me, we got there and the guys attacking him took off. We didn¡¯t¡­ get a good look, cuz we couldn¡¯t leave him. He was pretty delirious, pretty¡­¡± Again, she choked a little, arms folding tightly over her stomach before forcing out, ¡°He was pretty out of it.¡±


    Hearing her words, I barely processed them. All I could do was stare at Eits in that condition and think about the fact that him being there was my fault. I¡¯d involved him, and now he was hurt because of me. There was a dull roaring in the back of my mind.


    Pack was continuing. ¡°He wanted me to give you this.¡± In one hand, she held up a folded piece of paper. ¡°It¡¯s an address. He said¡­ he said it¡¯s something you needed, but that those guys who attacked him wanted it. The guys who attacked him, the guys who did that, were trying to get the same address out of him that you wanted. Paintball, what the fuck was Eits doing for you that made a bunch of guys beat him up this badly? They almost killed him! Doc Tanns is pretty sure he¡¯ll be okay now that he¡¯s through the worst of it, but¨Cbut¡­ what the fuck is going on?!¡± Her voice was a fierce stage-whisper, as she clearly stared intently at me. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare fucking blow me off. Do you see him right there? Do you care?¡±


    Eyes widening, I blurted, ¡°Of course I care!¡± Quickly lowering my voice, I hissed, ¡°I didn¡¯t know it would¨CI thought he¡¯d¨C¡± My mouth shut and I shook my head. ¡°Pack, I didn¡¯t know he¡¯d be in that much danger. He was just looking up some information for me, I didn¡¯t know it¡¯d¨C¡± Cutting myself off once more, I swallowed hard and tried to steady myself. My fault. The whole way over here, I¡¯d repeated it to myself and now that voice was even louder. This was all my fault. All of it. Eits being hurt, lying there in that hospital bed like that was my fault. If he¡­ if he died, that would be my fault too. All of it was my fault. Because I tried to let someone else help me. Because I passed the responsibility of this to someone else. Now he was hurt. Because of me. My fault.


    It took me a few moments to find my voice. Finally, I looked up to the other girl. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I should have handled this myself. I never should¡¯ve¨CI was wrong. I shouldn¡¯t have asked Eits to help me. I won¡¯t¡­ I won¡¯t do that again, I swear. Tell him I¡¯m sorry. Please. Just tell him I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll take the address. Please. He wanted me to have it. I¡¯ll deal with it. I¡¯ll handle it.¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, she looked at the paper in her hand, then turned back to me. Her voice was pained. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant, Paintball. I didn¡¯t want to make you go¨CI was just¡­ Look what they did to him. You can¡¯t handle this all on your own!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to,¡± I pointed out. ¡°You know I have an in with the Minority. And if they¡¯re involved, you can¡¯t be. They won¡¯t work with you, Pack. You can stay here with Eits. Someone should be here with him if he wakes up. I¡¯ll take care of the address, and I¡¯ll tell you what happens. I swear, I¡¯ll make them pay for what they did.¡±


    Pack was staring at me, her fist tight. ¡°You really think you and the Minority people can handle this?¡± Her voice shook a little. ¡°Paintball, what the hell did you get involved with?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle it,¡± I promised her, swallowing hard. ¡°Stay here with Eits. Please. Just tell him I¡¯m sorry, and that I never should have gotten him involved.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any idea how pissed Eits would be if I just let you go without help?¡± Pack demanded. ¡°After what happened¡­¡±


    ¡°After what happened, you need to be here with him,¡± I reiterated. ¡°And like I said, I know That-A-Way. I have her number. I can contact the Minority for help. Stay here. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±


    For a few seconds, it looked like Pack wouldn¡¯t agree. She sighed, looking over to a nearby cage where her lizards were all watching us. Finally, she opened her hand and held out the paper. ¡°If you¡¯re going with the Minority, fine. But only because I know it¡¯s not where those cocksuckers who attacked him are. They were looking for the same address, so they¡¯re obviously not there now. But still, they¡¯re involved. They¡¯re connected to whatever this is. So Paintball, whatever happens, if you get to the point of actually fighting those guys¡­ Look right there. Look what they did to Eits. I want to help. Call me, Paintball. You call me and tell me when you find the guys that did this. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll find out who they are at that address, or what¡¯s going on. But when you find them, you let me know, got it?¡±


    ¡°I got it,¡± I replied quietly, taking the paper. ¡°Be here for Eits. He needs you more than I do right now. I¡¯ll handle this.¡±


    ¡°You and the Minority,¡± she reminded me.


    I nodded once. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve got the number. And yours. I¡¯ll find out what the address leads to, then let you know if I find the guys responsible for¡­ for that.¡± I didn¡¯t¨Ccouldn¡¯t look at the room where Eits was. ¡°You¡¯ll get your turn with them.¡±


    With that, I gave one last look toward the injured Eits before pivoting on my heel to leave the house. Clutching the paper in my hand, I moved quickly past the guy in front. He repeated his earlier remark that they¡¯d be gone before I could bring heroes over, and I just muttered something about having more important things to worry about than helping a Star-Touched shut down a private hospital. I wasn¡¯t even sure what I said exactly. The words just came before I thought about them. My focus was elsewhere. Without thinking about it, I used red paint to yank myself up to another building, already running as I landed. My eyes finally glanced down at the address, taking it in.


    I knew where this was. Not the exact building, but the neighborhood. It was a place on the north side of town, near the zoo. A pretty nice neighborhood, if I remembered right. Either way, I knew where I was going now.


    For a moment, I slowed near the edge of the roof. My hand felt my phone in my pocket. The Minority. I¡¯d told Pack that I¡¯d be okay because I could contact them for help.


    And I could. But I wouldn¡¯t. I¡¯d never actually promised that I would contact them, only that I could do it. But after what I saw with Eits, and everything I already knew about my family¡­ no. I couldn¡¯t involve them. I couldn¡¯t¨Cwouldn¡¯t let anyone else get hurt because of me. This was my responsibility. Eits getting hurt was my fault, because I tried to let him help. That was a mistake, and I refuse to repeat it. Whatever happened next, I wouldn¡¯t let anyone else suffer because of me. Every time I thought about doing so, I pictured Eits on that hospital bed. Then I pictured it being Pack, or That-A-Way, or one of the other Minority. Or Wren. No. No, I couldn¡¯t¡­ I couldn¡¯t do that. I couldn¡¯t let that happen again. I could never let that happen again.


    So, I wasn¡¯t calling the Minority. I wasn¡¯t calling Wren. I wasn¡¯t calling anyone. Leaving the phone in my pocket, I took a running start and jumped, heading for the address. I would handle this the way I should have in the first place.


    By myself.

 Fault 10-06

    I was going to have to handle this myself. I wasn¡¯t going to let anyone else get hurt because of my situation. This whole thing came from my family, so I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to drag anyone else into it. Seeing poor Eits lying there on that bed in that condition had been the wake-up call that I needed. I couldn¡¯t let other people end up in that same situation just because they wanted to help me. Whatever came next, I would have to sink or swim on my own.


    Maybe it was stupid to go off by myself like that. But at that moment, I wasn¡¯t thinking about the danger to myself. I was just thinking about avoiding putting anyone else I cared about in a hospital bed. The thought of Pack, or That-A-Way, or anyone else being hurt the way that Eits had been just about destroyed me. Hell, the memory of what Eits himself had looked like lying there did that all on its own. So no, I couldn¡¯t involve anyone else in this. Not this time.


    What I could do was check out the address the boy had apparently found. Which didn¡¯t help me deal with the men who had attacked him, but their time would come later. I promised myself that. No, this had to be the address of Robert Parson, my old driver and sort-of babysitter when I¡¯d been younger.


    And that was just confusing in and of itself. Why would a bunch of guys jump Eits and hurt him that badly just for looking up the address of this guy? According to Pack,  they¡¯d been looking for the same address. So they didn¡¯t have it either. Did that mean they were enemies of my family? Or was Robert himself an enemy now and that was why he¡¯d stopped being my driver? He was involved in some way with the death of that Anthony kid and his parents, because he¡¯d been in the car with them. So¡­ what then? How was he involved? Which side was he on? Were the guys who were looking for him and had attacked Eits on my family¡¯s side? Or were they attacking my family? Had Robert been involved in killing Anthony and his parents, with the car accident as a cover-up? Why was the name Anthony Tate so familiar to me? What the hell was going on? So many questions, and right now the only actual lead I had was this address.


    All those thoughts were rushing through my head in a jumbled mess while I made my way north, toward the address on the paper. A quick double-check had confirmed my first impression. The address was a house just a few blocks northeast of the zoo. I had used my Maps app to get a look at it. The place just looked like an ordinary, if upscale, three-story Victorian house with a detached garage in the corner of the lot. The lawn had looked well cared for in the satellite image, and there was a tall wrought-iron fence around the property. No cars had been in the driveway, but that didn¡¯t mean anything, considering they could be in that garage. Besides, the photo could have been taken at any time. The only thing I really knew for sure was that I didn¡¯t recognize the house itself from any other trip. Of course, given the fact that my memory had apparently been tampered with by Mr. Jackson, that didn¡¯t mean anything either.


    I didn¡¯t go straight to the house, no matter how much my anger and frustration about what had happened to Eits was driving me to be reckless. Instead, I stopped at the nearest office building in the neighborhood, the tallest structure around. Perched on the edge of the roof there, I scanned the neighborhood until I saw the house in question a couple blocks away.  There was still no visible vehicles, and the lawn looked worse than it had in the picture. It needed to be cut pretty badly, there were visible weeds, and the once-thriving flower garden up near the house hadn¡¯t been tended to in what looked like a pretty long time. Despite those signs that it was abandoned, however, someone had to be there. Because there was a dog trotting around the front yard and it didn¡¯t appear to be starving or anything. At least, not from this distance. And I was pretty sure any place that had been left for as long as it would take things to overgrow as much as they were would have had someone pick up the dog by now. No, it seemed like there was someone living there. They just weren¡¯t taking care of the place anymore for whatever reason. Maybe they couldn¡¯t take care of it. Or didn¡¯t care enough now. Whether that someone was Robert Parson or someone who knew where he was, I was going to find out. And I was also definitely going to find out just what he had to do with the people who had attacked Eits.


    Still, I didn¡¯t want to rush into things and end up doing nothing but making things worse. So, I sat there on the edge of that roof and watched the house for what had to be twenty minutes. Every second that passed, I wanted to go right in there. I wanted to do something useful. I wanted to stop closing my eyes and seeing Eits lying there on the bed. I wanted to distract myself from that horrific guilt that kept eating me up inside. But I waited. I watched, just to make absolutely certain that the house was as clear as it could be and that this wasn¡¯t actually some kind of trap.


    Finally, I couldn¡¯t wait anymore. I had to make my move. Taking a breath, I leapt from the roof of the building with the aid of a blue launch puddle. A shot of red toward the chimney of the next house over carried me there, and I landed lightly before throwing myself up once more. A guy walking his dog jerked in surprise as soon as he saw me, and I heard him blurt something (but didn¡¯t catch what he actually said) just before I jumped away. Using a couple more houses to jump off of, I brought myself around toward the enclosed back yard of the address in question.


    It was quiet back here too. Staying low and silent, I watched the windows of the house. Nothing. The backdoor was closed, and there was no sign of anyone inside. I couldn¡¯t hear the dog in the front yard. From what I¡¯d seen when watching this place, the animal was stuck there and couldn¡¯t get around to the back where I was. Hopefully, they wouldn¡¯t smell or hear me and start barking their head off. That would be a good way to end up spoiling the fact that I was here.


    Just like I had from the roof of the other building, I remained still instead of rushing in. Watching the back of the house as patiently as possible given the situation turned out to be the right choice, because after a minute or two, I spotted the camera in the top left corner of the back patio. It was aimed inward, watching the door and windows. Then I spotted another one, aimed out toward the yard. Somehow, I¡¯d managed to put myself far enough into the corner that I was pretty sure it didn¡¯t see me. The way the camera was pointed, it had to take in most of the yard.


    Then I saw another camera. That one was at the corner of the house, pointed up through the space leading to the front yard. And sure enough, there was a fourth one at the other end.


    Right, I didn¡¯t know much about Robert or whoever actually lived here. But I was pretty sure they were just a bit paranoid. Whether that was for good reason or not remained to be seen, though the fact that people had attacked Eits like that trying to get this address made it likely.


    Okay, so what now? I needed to get in the house. Or at least talk to the person in there. But could I do that without the whole situation turning into a massive clusterfuck? Should I try to sneak in and check things out, or knock on the door? Should I stand in front of the camera? How would the person or people inside (if anyone was home right now) react if I just showed myself like that and asked to talk? And if they did talk, what would I even say to them?


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    That was something I unfortunately hadn¡¯t considered too much. What was I supposed to say had led me here? Could I just say that I¡¯d been looking into Paige Banners, which led me to this Anthony Tate kid, and then to the only survivor of that car accident down in Texas?


    I was frozen like that for the moment, trying to decide what I should actually do. I couldn¡¯t tell the whole truth, that was for damn sure. I also couldn¡¯t let on that I knew¡­ well, anything about this ¡®Ministry¡¯ thing. Or at least, not very much. Because if that got back to my family, it was bound to make things a hell of a lot more complicated for me than they already were.


    I had to be subtle, but breaking into this place felt like a good way to make things worse. So, for a moment, I couldn¡¯t pick the best plan. Show myself and ask to talk, or maybe see if I could sneak up and peek in a window without being seen by any of the cameras?


    Fuck it, enough with this sitting around and hesitating. I needed to do something. Maybe it was just because of how helpless, stupid, and guilty I felt about letting Eits get hurt, but I couldn¡¯t be patient. I was going to get some fucking answers. I was about to get up and walk right to the back door to knock on it, when something else caught my eye. That garage was nearby, and the side door was open a few inches to reveal darkness beyond.


    Okay, it was a longshot that there¡¯d be anything interesting in there. But at least it was something. Checking the cameras once more to make sure there was space, I carefully inched my way along the fence until I could make a quick run to the garage, slipping in through the open door.


    The place was pretty dark inside, but I could make out a car with the light that was coming in through the dirty windows on the main door at the front. There was a tarp over it, and I only hesitated for a moment before stepping over, reaching out, and pulling the tarp away.


    Hey, I knew this car. It was a dark sedan, which didn¡¯t really narrow it down, of course. But I recognized the little plastic coconut and pineapple hanging from the mirror. I¡¯d given those to Robert when I was a little kid, right? I sort-of remembered giving them to him after I won them in some school carnival thing, on the way home.


    This was Robert¡¯s car. Or¨Cwell, it was the car he¡¯d driven me around in. I¡¯d thought that would¡¯ve belonged to my parents, but maybe they let him keep it? I wasn¡¯t sure. Either way, this was definitely the car. I wasn¡¯t sure how I was that positive, but I was. This was the car I¡¯d been driven from home to school and back again in for years.


    Lost in my own memories, which were somehow simultaneously vague and specific, I tried the driver¡¯s side door. It opened with a click, making the dome light pop on. I stepped inside, sitting down in the driver¡¯s seat before letting out a low breath. This¡­ Turning my head, I looked in the rearview mirror.


    Through my own memories, I saw Robert¡¯s eyes in the mirror from my normal place in the back seat. I saw myself as a kid, chattering away at the man as he drove me home from school. My backpack was lying beside me with a bunch of books scattered over the seat. I was telling Robert all about the story in one of the books, before excitedly asking if we could stop and pick up¨C


    Ugggnnnnn¡­. My head hurt. God, where did that come from? One second I was fine, then there was this weird headache that made me double over so much I literally bounced my helmet off the steering wheel. Damn it, oww. What the hell?


    Speaking of the steering wheel, why was I holding onto it so tight? God, ow, I was hurting my own hands from the force of my grip on it. What was wrong with me? Was sitting in this car just bringing up some kind of¡­ memories¡­ My lost memories. That had to be it. Something about being in this car was reminding my subconscious of something, and my body was reacting.


    Shaking it off as much as I could, I reached over to open the glovebox. It popped down, and I found the usual. Gloves, a pair of sunglasses, a couple maintenance and owners manual books, an incredibly old thing of Tic Tacs¡­ nothing useful. Except, as I moved all that out of the way, there was something stuck inside the owner¡¯s manual that fell out and landed on the passenger seat. It was a photograph, which landed facedown. Curious (and basically desperate for something useful), I picked up the photo and turned it over.


    It was me. That was the first thing I realized. There were two people in the picture. One was me, at about age¡­ nine or ten, was my guess. The picture had been taken at the very same zoo that I¡¯d passed on the way here. It was right outside the monkey cage.


    My face, and the realization of where the picture had been taken, were the first things to hit me. Then I saw the rest of it. I was¡­ behind someone else, my chin on the other person¡¯s shoulder while my arms were thrown around him. I was grinning, smiling from ear to ear while basically hanging off the other person. The other¡­


    Boy. It was a boy about the same age as I was in the picture. He had light brown hair, a slight spattering of freckles across his face, brown eyes, and crooked teeth. He was going to have to get braces soon, which he was scared about because he thought¨C


    Uggggghnnn! Dropping the photo, I doubled over once more. Owww, oww! Damn it, my head! What was wrong with my head? Were¡­ were my lost memories about that boy? Is that why seeing his picture made my head hurt so much? Anthony. That kid had to be Anthony, right? That was the only thing that made sense. And he¡¯d been my friend. That was¡­ that had to be it. He was my friend. He had to be, just from looking at that picture. I knew Anthony Tate. Or had known him, before he died.


    I knew the boy well enough for him to be a friend that I was basically hanging off of at the zoo. Robert had a picture of the two of us stuck in the glovebox of his car in this garage. I kept getting a headache every time I focused on him. Yeah, this was my lost memories, the ones my mom had talked about.


    What did my parents do to Anthony? That had to be it, right? It had to be. They did something¡­ something to that boy, and I found out about it. Then they erased my memory so I wouldn¡¯t freak out on them.


    Even as I sat there, thinking about all that, I found myself getting more upset, more angry, at the whole situation. Before I really understood or even thought about what I was doing, the door was open and I was climbing out of the car. My hand grabbed the photo, shoving it safely into one of my pockets before zipping it shut.


    Then I was leaving the garage. Answers. Whatever it took, I was going to get some fucking answers right fucking now. To that end, I was going to walk right up to that back door, knock on it, and find out what Robert knew, about Anthony, about Paige, about the guys who attacked Eits, all of it. I was getting answers, now.


    At least, that was the plan. But no sooner had I taken a couple steps out into the yard, than a sudden, sharp whistle caught my attention. The whistle was followed by what felt like a bee sting. I gasped, jerking backward just in time to see a dark red dart of some kind sticking out of my arm. It was¡­ it felt¡­


    My vision swam. Stumbling a bit, I fell to one knee, struggling to stay upright. It was a struggle I lost, falling onto my side. Everything was going blurry, as a figure started walking toward me. They were talking. ¡°You know, going through that kid¡¯s phone to find this address was a real bitch. But it has totally paid off.¡±


    The figure stopped right in front of me, so blurry I could barely focus on them. My vision was fading in and out. Black spots kept appearing, as the person continued while crouching down in front of me, dart gun held loosely in one hand. ¡°After all, I thought I was just going to deal with one long-time pain in the ass.¡±


    The barrel of the dart gun was playfully tapped against the visor of my helmet, as I finally managed to focus on the person who was talking.


    ¡°But it turns out, it¡¯s my lucky day. I get to play with you too,¡± Pencil finished, in the last brief moment before my vision went completely black.

 Interlude 10A - That-A-Way

    Boring, boring, boring. The night was so freaking boring. Amber had been on patrol for what felt like half a day by that point (it was only two hours), and literally nothing of any note had happened. She was strolling along the sidewalk, making herself visible for people so they knew there was a Star-Touched in the area (according to Silversmith, that was a big part of the entire job), and generally just associating with the civilians. Which was fine. It was totally fine. It was part of the job. But¡­ but she was so bored. She wanted to cut through the next alley and just see what she could find somewhere off her assigned patrol pattern. But that was a bad idea. Silversmith tended to get a bit annoyed if you deviated off a path when he specifically gave you one. He didn¡¯t always, of course. A lot of the time you could simply patrol a given section of the city however you wanted. But when he did assign a full path, you had better stay on it.


    And here she was, walking the path that Silversmith had assigned, with nothing happening. Seriously, she was about to fall asleep on her feet. Not from exhaustion, but from sheer boredom. The most exciting thing that had happened was a few people wanting to take pictures with her, and even that wasn¡¯t often because the authorities tried to make it clear that official Star-Touched on patrols were to be left alone to do their jobs. So mostly people just took pictures of her from afar, which was fucking creepy as all hell, seriously what the living fuck.


    Creeps aside, Amber was about ready to call in and ask if there was literally anything going on that she could help with. Even if it was as simple as getting an old lady¡¯s cat out of a tree. She was that desperate for something to do beyond walking down the street while studiously ignoring people with cell phones out filming her. Because if she didn¡¯t find something to do, she was seriously going to consider chucking a rock or two at a few of the creepiest ones. Actually, she might do that anyway. It sounded like a good idea.


    Then she saw it. Up and to the left, on the roof of a dry cleaners, stood a figure in dark-purple armor with speaker system vents all over it. Broadway. That was Broadway, from La Casa. Amber had never met her in person (even if she¡¯d come close during that¡­ thing with Pack the other day), but she did recognize her from the briefings they¡¯d gotten. She was pretty distinctive.


    In any case, fuck yeah, something to do! And she was even standing to the north, which was just perfect. Grinning at the fact that she was finally being freed from her mind-numbing boredom, Amber instantly teleported herself right up to the side of the other girl, hand lashing out to catch hold of her arm as she positioned herself facing east to activate her invulnerability.


    Broadway was already gone. She¡¯d used her own teleportation power to esca¨Cno, she was right there at the other end of the roof! Before the girl could counter-attack, That-A-Way threw herself that way in a superfast sprint. Broadway¡¯s fault for setting herself up to the west.


    A sudden blast of deafening sound focused solely on her made the girl stumble, falling to one knee as her hands covered her ears. Oh shit, that was loud! She could barely think through it. Focus, focus! She¡¯d teleport out of the way, circle around and come up behind¨C


    The sound stopped. Blearly, Amber blinked up to see Broadway holding both hands out. Just as she started to dive out of the way of whatever was about to hit her, however, the sound of the other girl¡¯s voice reached her. ¡°¨Cnot here to fight, dude! Just hold up a second, jeez!¡±


    Okay, it was true that Amber hadn¡¯t seen Broadway actually do anything wrong. But still, she was a wanted criminal and all that. And¡­ and she was friends with Pack. Yeah. Amber knew the two were teammates. She knew from Pack¡¯s rambling back when they had¡­ um¡­ fought that Broadway had been the one driving that van. So maybe she sort of¡­ overreacted. Maybe her own boredom wasn¡¯t the only reason she¡¯d lunged to attack. It was slightly possible that seeing Broadway there had reminded her of that whole thing with Pack and her guilt over¡­


    Over what? She hadn¡¯t let Pack escape. She hadn¡¯t. She¡¯d tried to bring her in, had even fought her. So why did she feel guilty about it? Why did she feel so guilty that seeing Broadway here had made her feel like she had to prove she hadn¡¯t let Pack go on purpose by grabbing her teammate? How did that even make sense? And why the fuck was this so complicated anyway?


    Pushing herself up, Way watched the Fell-Touched warily, ready for any kind of trick. This had to be a trick, right? Her eyes narrowed, glancing around briefly just in case something was coming at her from another direction. Nothing. They were alone on the roof. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± Broadway shrugged elaborately, clearly overly-emphasizing the motion so that it would carry through the armor she wore. ¡°I don¡¯t want anything really. I was just looking for the bastards who attacked¡­ never mind. Point is, I saw you on patrol and thought my buddy might want to know you were around. Turns out she wants to talk to you pretty bad though.¡± With that, she held up a flip phone, offering it that way. ¡°She said to tell you it¡¯s about Paintball.¡±


    The reflexive denial that had been on Amber¡¯s lips, the immediate refusal to talk to Pack and risk everything that would come with that, died. Paintball. Fuck. ¡°What did you people do to him?¡± she demanded, ignoring just how little sense that made. They were the bad guys, the bad guys. She had to force herself to keep thinking of them that way, no matter what. Which, again, might have resulted in a little overcompensation.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Broadway was clearly just as aware of the ridiculousness of that assumption. ¡°Here, dude.¡± She underhand tossed the phone without arguing further about that. ¡°Talk to her.¡±


    Amber considered tossing the phone away. Damn it, she was Star-Touched and they were Fell-Touched! If anyone found out she was having some kind of casual conversation with them, let alone that when she and Pack had fought she had¡­ that she might have¡­ that¡­


    Fuck. Snapping the phone open, she brought it to her ear and demanded, ¡°What¡¯s going on with Paintball?¡±


    Pack¡¯s answer came immediately. ¡°You tell me. What the hell are you doing? Why didn¡¯t you go help him? You can¡¯t be done already. Don¡¯t tell me you left him out there on his own.¡±


    Okay, now Amber was even more confused. She blinked over at Broadway, who stood still, watching her with what seemed like curiosity even though it was hard to read through the armor. ¡°Uhh¡­ what? I haven¡¯t talked to Paintball lately. What are you going on about?¡±


    There was a brief silent pause, followed by a full litany of cursing. Amber was pretty sure there were some bad words in there from several other languages. It went on for a few long seconds before Pack finally snapped, ¡°¨Cfucking idiot!¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Way demanded reflexively.


    ¡°Not you!¡± the voice on the phone blurted. ¡°Paintball! He¡¯s a fucking god damn idiot! He fucking lied to me just to¨Cwho the fuck knows why! He lied to me! He said he was going to call you for help! That¡¯s the only reason I let him go by himself, because he wasn¡¯t¨Cgod damn it!¡±


    ¡°Calm down,¡± That-A-Way ordered, her mind swimming. ¡°Okay, just wait a minute. What was he going to call me about? You let him go where by himself? And why did you have anything to say about it anyway? He doesn¡¯t work for you. He¨C¡±


    ¡°Never mind that!¡± Pack interrupted. ¡°Look, we¨CI don¡¯t know what the hell is going on, not exactly. But Paintball asked Eits to do some research for him. Yeah, I don¡¯t know why. Eits found some address and got jumped for it. Someone beat the shit out of him. I got Paintball here and gave him the address. He said he was going to call you for back-up to check it out! Now he¡¯s been gone for over an hour and I find out he never even called you!¡±


    Taking in all that, Amber felt a rush of nausea and confusion wash over her. What the hell was Paintball having a bad guy look up for him? And why had he gone off on his own after telling Pack he would ask for help? And why hadn¡¯t he checked in again?


    ¡°Where is he?¡± she finally demanded. ¡°Where did you send him? I¡¯ll check it out myself.¡±


    ¡°Not by yourself you won¡¯t,¡± came the retort. ¡°Broadway has the address. Follow her, I¡¯ll meet you there. We¡¯ll find out what the fuck is going on, even if I have to smack Paintball until he stops being so secretive.¡±


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    Amber considered arguing. But Pack had already hung up. So that conversation was over. With a sigh, she looked at Broadway. Several options bounced back and forth through her mind, but there was really only one possibility. She couldn¡¯t just abandon Paintball. And it would take too long to try to explain the situation to her own people. ¡°Fine,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    *******


    It was some small, ordinary house in the middle of an ordinary neighborhood. Well, maybe not actually that small. But still, it was just a house. Given that the state it was in, Amber would have said it was empty, but a dog was sitting in the fenced-off and heavily overgrown front yard and didn¡¯t seem to be starving or anything. It was just sitting there, watching people pass by.


    At the moment, Amber was standing at the end of the street in a clump of trees just above a drainage ditch. Broadway and Pack (who had the cage with her lizards sitting nearby) were standing a few feet away, all three of them watching that house as they had been for the past minute.


    ¡°So, I don¡¯t get it,¡± Broadway finally piped up. ¡°Why¡¯re we standing around like this? Are we going to go bust in there and check this place out, or what? Paintball¡¯s like, a friend to you guys, right? If he¡¯s in trouble, that¡¯s the first place to start. He could be hurt or something in there.¡±


    Way gave the Fell-Touched a brief squint. ¡°We¨C¡± she amended belatedly. ¡°I don¡¯t just go breaking into people¡¯s homes like that. We don¡¯t know if he¡¯s in there at all. We don¡¯t even know if he made it or not. Anything could have happened. We don¡¯t have a warrant or probable cause or anything to justify busting in someone¡¯s private home just because we¡¯re worried. Especially since I¡¯m off my patrol route and haven¡¯t reported in about this. You know, for obvious reasons.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Pack replied casually, ¡°well that¡¯s easy to deal with. Just close your eyes for a minute.¡± As she said it, the girl was already starting to move that way, stopping to pick up the cage on the way. ¡°Luckily, I brought my universal lockpick. Didn¡¯t I, Marsy? You wanna smash a door in?¡±


    Quickly, Amber moved and grabbed the other girl by the arm. ¡°Stop! You can¡¯t just break in there either. It¡¯s broad daylight and anyone could be watching. Do you have any idea what you could-¡±


    Pack snatched her arm free, somehow managing to scowl at That-A-Way despite the completely blank mask that covered her face. ¡°No, do you have any idea what could be happening to Paintball in there while we just stand here? Did you hear the part about how some assholes practically beat Eits into a coma just for looking for this place and not telling them the address? Whatever¡¯s going on here, whatever it is, it¡¯s really fucking important. Don¡¯t you care about what could¡¯ve happened to Paintball and why he just completely disappeared?¡±


    Wincing at that, Amber nodded. ¡°Of course I care! I¡¯m here, aren¡¯t I? I mean, I really shouldn¡¯t be, but¡­¡± She sighed, shaking that off. She made her choice and would deal with the consequences if it came to it. That said, she wasn¡¯t going to be stupid about the whole thing and just burst right in. ¡°But we have to do this right. Not only because we¨CI could get in trouble, but because if there are bad guys in there, waltzing right in could be just as bad as doing nothing.¡±


    ¡°Moving girl¡¯s got a point,¡± Broadway put in, giving That-A-Way a thumbs up. ¡°Bad guys or good guys, we¡¯re all pretty screwed if we walk into the same trap that caught Paintball. I mean, not that we know he walked into a trap. But let¡¯s be real, he probably walked into a trap.¡±


    Finally relenting, Pack glanced to the cage at her feet. ¡°Fine, Riddles and Twinkletoes can scout the place out from above and close in. They can check what the place looks like up close, see if anyone¡¯s in there through the windows. But we do this fast.¡±


    Amber agreed, stepping back and watching as Pack brought the two lizards to their larger forms and sent them off to do their job. As they took off, one flying and one invisible, she asked, ¡°How many times have you tried calling him?¡± Even then, Amber was taking the phone from her own pocket and hitting the option to try calling Paintball himself for about the fifth time since she¡¯d heard about this. As with the first four, it went straight to the generic voicemail.


    ¡°Half a dozen,¡± Pack replied flatly. ¡°After that, there didn¡¯t seem to be a point. We know something¡¯s wrong. Either something in that place attacked him, or he got jumped on the way here.¡± She looked over to Way, adding pointedly, ¡°Either way, I¡¯m getting in that house to find out what the fuck is going on.¡±


    There was something in her voice, a¡­ guilt? Amber wasn¡¯t sure, but it sounded like the other girl was blaming herself for the whole situation. She found herself pointing out, ¡°Look, Pack, you know Paintball isn¡¯t your responsibility or anything. He¡¯s not on your team or¨C¡±


    Pack quickly interrupted. ¡°Fuck that. I should have known that he was going to feel guilty about the whole thing with Eits. I should have figured out that he was lying and that he¡¯d go off by himself to try to make sure no one else got hurt or some shit. I should¡¯ve known, but I was just¡­¡± She was clearly scowling, arms folded across her stomach as she looked away. ¡°I was upset. I was mad that he got Eits involved, even though it wasn¡¯t his¡­¡± A long sigh came. ¡°I was mad. I was stupid. He was stupid. We were all stupid. And now Paintball¡¯s in trouble.¡±


    By that point, Riddles was swooping in to land on a nearby tree. Pack looked that way, and Amber resisted the urge to demand to know if they were actually communicating.


    Finally, the other girl looked to her and Broadway. ¡°The house seems empty. And it looks like no one¡¯s lived there for months. There¡¯s cobwebs, dust everywhere, the lot.¡±


    ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Broadway pointed out, bouncing a bit as if impatient and tired of standing still. ¡°What about the pupper out front?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Amber squinted that way, forgetting who she was with in that moment as she pushed off to walk to the house. Something really weird was going on. ¡°I think we need to check out that dog.¡± Now the whole thing was even more suspicious. What the hell was going on?


    The neighborhood was pretty quiet, so the three reached the gate of the house without running into anyone. As they stood there, the dog perked its head up and panted while looking at them.


    ¡°Hey, boy¡­ or girl,¡± Amber coaxed, hoping the animal wouldn¡¯t be too put off by their costumes (especially Broadway¡¯s heavy armor). ¡°Who¡¯s a good whatever-sex-you-are? You are. You are. C¡¯mere¡­¡± She put her hand through the gate and the dog gave a happy little wag while getting up to move that way.


    Suddenly, there was a sharp whistling sound as something shot past Amber and the others. It was a small stone, which rebounded off the dog¡¯s snout, making it jerk back with a reflexive snarl.


    Spinning that way, her guard up as she snatched the taser-baton from her side, That-A-Way stared at¡­ ¡°Skip?¡± It was the girl from Ten Towers, standing there in the white short-sleeved robe and hood that covered a blue-black bodysuit, her lower face covered by a black cloth mask. She had just hurled the stone past the three Touched to hit the animal.


    ¡°Not a dog,¡± she said simply, in that matter-of-fact, eerily calm way she had. Amber had seen and fought alongside the girl several times and she¡¯d never seen her raise her voice or seem emotional in any way. ¡°Get back now.¡± Her tone was about as urgent as it ever got.


    Even as Skip said that, Amber felt movement behind her. She spun, activating her power to teleport to the north while grabbing Pack. Broadway teleported backward at the same time.


    They barely avoided the mouth of the dog. A mouth that was now a hell of a lot bigger than it had been. Large enough to have swallowed Amber whole if given a chance.


    ¡°The fuck?!¡± the girl blurted, stumbling a little. Even as she said that, the dog¡¯s head (because that was the only part of it that had grown) resumed its normal size. It snarled at them before abruptly spitting some kind of nasty-looking greenish-brown mucus stuff at the ground. The mucus spread out to cover a space about two feet wide, before the dog¡­ dove¡­ into the mucus. Literally, it dove into the gooey, gross stuff, disappearing as if it was jumping into a pool of water. A moment later, the mucus faded into the ground, leaving them staring at nothing.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Amber managed while scrambling to the fence. ¡°But what the fuckity fucking fuck?!¡±


    ¡°Uhh, what she said,¡± Broadway agreed, sounding like she was about to be sick. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Skip calmly informed them. ¡°But it was playing lookout for the people who abducted Paintball.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Pack snapped, suddenly moving that way. ¡°You saw something happen? Who¨Cwhat¨Cwhere?¡±


    Without responding to the girl directly, Skip turned her head slightly, looking at That-A-Way. ¡°You work with villains?¡± She didn¡¯t sound judgmental. She barely sounded curious.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Way informed her. ¡°Really long. But we¡¯re looking for Paintball, if you¨C¡±


    ¡°He said a friend of his was hurt and needed help,¡± Skip replied flatly. ¡°I saw him after that and thought he might be in trouble. I was busy, but after I was done, I looked for him. That brought me here. I don¡¯t come out here very often, so my closest marker was a few streets over and I had to come look for him. I got here in time to see people put him in a car, but I was too far away to see who they were. They wore long coats.¡±


    ¡°God damn it!¡± Pack blurted. ¡°I knew that idiot was in trouble! And now we have no fucking idea where he is!¡±


    ¡°You would have an idea,¡± Skip calmly informed her without a trace of recrimination in her voice, ¡°if you allowed me to finish speaking.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Pack demanded. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t see who they were and you weren¡¯t close enough to do anything about it.¡±


    Skip gave a simple nod. ¡°True. But I did see the license plate before they left and sent it to Ten Towers support. I waited, and was on the phone with them when you arrived. I witnessed the so-called dog shift itself into a larger form in an attempt to ambush the invisible figure you sent to investigate the house, but you approached first and interrupted, forcing the creature to resume its passive form in an attempt to shift the ambush to you instead. Thus, I thought it prudent to interrupt.¡±


    ¡°You said you were on the phone with your support team?¡± Amber managed, pushing her way past all that.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Skip confirmed. ¡°They have traced the car through several street cameras to a warehouse on the far side of town. If you would like, I can take you there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we definitely like,¡± Pack retorted.


    ¡°Take us to this warehouse. Because whoever abducted Paintball is about to get a really goddamn rude awakening.¡±

 Interlude 10B - Mariana Amor

    Mariana Amor, biological mother of Izzy Amor (though calling her a mother in any sense other than biological would be something of a stretch), sat in a small motel room on the edge of Detroit. The room had two beds in it, one of which was covered with various clothes, bags, and suitcases, while the other was the one she had slept in for the past couple of weeks while waiting for the heat over what she had done to die down a little bit. Actually, she¡¯d done more than sleep in the room. She¡¯d barely left it at all aside from visits to the office to pay her bill a couple times, and the occasional trip to the ice or vending machines. All of her meals were delivered straight to the door. Five hundred thousand dollars went a long way for that.


    Five hundred thousand dollars. Half a million. She could have gotten more. Mariana knew that. For a young, easily moldable and incredibly powerful Touched like her daughter? She could have gotten two, three, or even four times that amount. But she had been in a hurry. And she could work with five hundred thousand. It was a good nest egg to start over in a decent place with a new identity and nothing tying her down.


    Or it would have been, if those Oscuro idiots had kept hold of Izzy and made sure the whole thing went as smoothly as they had promised it would. But no. They had to fuck the whole thing up. Now that Handler guy was gone, and she was being looked for by not just the cops and Star-Touched, but by the Oscuro people too. Because they wanted to clean up their mess.


    Thankfully, everyone seemed to believe she had already left town. But she was still here in Detroit, in this motel right near the freeway. For now, anyway. But she¡¯d already arranged for a way out of this hellhole and into that new life she¡¯d always wanted. She just had to be patient. Even if that was hard, given how many times she¡¯d woken up in the middle of the night in this shitty place, hearing the slamming of a car door or raised voices and become convinced someone was here for her.


    It wasn¡¯t fair. It just wasn¡¯t fair. She wasn¡¯t a bad person. Izzy would¡¯ve been fine with the Oscuro people. Sure, it might¡¯ve been a bit rough at first, but with her power, she would¡¯ve risen to the top of the ranks really quickly. And once she did, she would have been a force to be reckoned with. She would have been a real force in the city, living the high life. Mariana had tried to give her that, had tried to put her through a little tough love so she¡¯d come out the other side with everything she could ever want. And for that, she¡¯d only taken a little payment. Just enough to get her own real life started. But was Izzy grateful for that? Was she even a tiny bit happy that her mother had done the legwork to get her in the door of one of the strongest Touched groups in Michigan? No. Of course not, because she was an immature brat.


    So, now Mariana had to get out of this place and get her new identity before any of those people managed to get hold of her. Luckily, she was smart. Too smart to live in some shitty condo playing nursemaid to one of the most powerful Touched in the city while the authorities squeezed them both dry. Mariana deserved better than that. After all, hadn¡¯t she produced Izzy? She deserved to have a say in what her daughter did with her powers, not the jack booted government thugs who would never give mother or daughter what they were worth.


    That line of thought was making her angrier by the moment, to the point that Mariana was barely paying attention to the television. Which just made her more annoyed, because this was one of her favorite shows and of fucking course this dump didn¡¯t have good enough TV¡¯s to let you rewind a live show, like any civilized place would. With a curse, she had just started to focus more when there was a soft knock on the door. It was a single knock, followed by a brief silence, then two knocks, then a pause, then one more. A code, because she wasn¡¯t an idiot and had wanted to make sure anyone coming to her room was actually someone she wanted to talk to.


    But naturally, of course after all this time, the person who was supposed to help her get out of this shitty city would choose now to do so. Right when Mariana was trying to focus on her show. Heaving a long sigh, she grabbed the remote and flipped it off. Hopefully this person was satisfied now. Honestly, why were people so damned inconsiderate? This was why she needed that money, so she could find a decent place to live, the kind of place she¡¯d always deserved.


    Stepping over to the door, she checked through the peephole first, just in case. Seeing a young, attractive blonde girl standing there with the shirt of a local pizzeria and two actual pizza boxes in her hands, she squinted before cracking the door a little bit (still leaving the chain in place). ¡°I didn¡¯t order any.¡±


    The response from the teenager was an easy, bright smile. ¡°Are you sure, ma¡¯am?¡± she started while lifting the lid of the top box a bit. ¡°I think this is exactly what you ordered.¡± Instead of a pizza in the box, there were papers, including a California driver¡¯s license with Mariana¡¯s picture and a different name, a social security card, even a birth certificate. It was everything she needed to get started in a new place. This was it, this was the person she¡¯d been waiting for.


    Quickly stepping back while unhooking the chain and opening the door, she ushered the girl in before shutting it. ¡°Come on, come on. What the hell took you so long? I paid for premium service. Ten thousand dollars should get something a lot more prompt. I expected you hours ago.¡± As she finished with that, Mariana was already turning to walk over to one of her suitcases. She undid the combination lock, before reaching in to find an envelope.


    In the meantime, the girl behind her spoke up. ¡°It took a few hours to put everything together the way you wanted it. I assume you wanted quality product that¡¯ll hold up to scrutiny, not something that would get you picked up the first time some patrolman pulls you over for a busted taillight and tries to run a five dollar job that was run off a color printer in some asshole¡¯s basement.¡±


    Forgetting her annoyance entirely, Mariana eagerly stepped that way to look at the open pizza box full of her new life that the girl had set on the empty bed. ¡°It¡¯s really that good?¡± she demanded, reaching out to take one of the documents before stopping to squint at her with a very firm, ¡°I¡¯m not paying you a single red cent until I get to look at them for myself.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± the girl allowed with a calm gesture while stepping back to give her all the room she needed. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about you taking it and running.¡±


    Ignoring that, Mariana set the envelope full of cash down next to the box and began to go through all the documents. A new ID, a new passport, social security card, birth certificate, credit cards, school documentation, diploma, a bachelor¡¯s degree from some university in California, it was all here. Everything she could possibly need to start her real life far away from this place. There was even a frequent flier card, and a couple for grocery store loyalty programs. Everything that would make her new identity look one hundred percent real.


    ¡°There¡¯s still one thing we need to do,¡± the girl informed her while Mariana was eagerly examining all the documents. ¡°These will get you a long way, but you were fingerprinted when your daughter went into the Minority system. Which means that if anyone takes your fingerprints, they¡¯ll know you¡¯re not who all these things say you are. But I can fix that. I can get your fingerprints out of their system. For an extra five thousand dollars.¡±


    Snapping her gaze up at that, Mariana squinted. ¡°You¡¯re trying to shake me down for more now?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m offering you a service,¡± the girl replied simply. ¡°This is what you¡¯ve paid for. But I¡¯m also telling you that this will fall apart if you get fingerprinted. For five thousand, I¡¯ll remove that possibility right here so you can see for yourself. But if you don¡¯t want that, feel free to take the risk. It¡¯s up to you.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    For a moment, Mariana hesitated. She didn¡¯t want to part with any more of her money. But on the other hand, better to lose five thousand now rather than all of it and her freedom later. Besides, if she ever wanted to get a job that involved being fingerprinted, this was probably a good idea.


    ¡°Fine,¡± the woman settled on. ¡°But you better not be playing me, young lady. I¡¯m paying for the premium service, and if I find out that this whole thing was some kind of racket, I swear¡­¡±


    Adopting one of those clone-like customer service smiles, the blonde girl cheerfully assured her, ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll get everything you¡¯ve been asking for, cross my heart and hope to die.¡±


    With that announcement, she reached into the second pizza box and took out a laptop, setting it up on the nearby table. Humming briefly, the girl went through several options on the screen quickly before stepping aside a bit to show her. ¡°This is the database they use to store fingerprints for Touched and Touched relatives. As you might imagine, it¡¯s supposed to be very secure.¡± A slight smile touched the girl¡¯s face. ¡°After all, they don¡¯t want people finding Star-Touched identities through their fingerprints. Most of them wear gloves, but still.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s supposed to be secure,¡± Mariana demanded, feeling even more like she was being played here, ¡°how do you have access to it from a laptop in a motel room? That seems like the opposite of secure.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not accessing it,¡± the girl replied, tilting the screen a bit to show her the view panning out to reveal that the image they had been looking at was actually being taken by a camera recording the screen of another computer inside what looked like a secure server room. ¡°This is recorded video. I¡¯m showing you what I already did.¡± As she said that, a gloved hand reached out to the now-visible keyboard, tapping at it briefly before bringing up Mariana¡¯s entry. Navigating to the fingerprint portion, the hand hit a few more keys, replacing the recorded image of the prints and all associated markers with a different set, before saving it that way.


    ¡°So you show me a video of you doing this in some fake server room and I¡¯m supposed to believe it¡¯s real?¡± Mariana scoffed, squinting that way. ¡°Just how naive do you think I am?¡±


    ¡°Just keep watching,¡± the young woman flatly insisted, her eyes not leaving the screen. The glove on the screen was pulled off to reveal her hand before apparently being put away. Then the view spun, turning to walk out of the room, past several more servers and monitors before reaching a reinforced glass door with a scanner beside it. A badge appeared and was swept past the scanner, prompting an affirmative beep before the door popped open and the view continued out into the hallway where people in uniform were walking around. A few looked up and nodded in greeting, but most were busy working.


    While Mariana watched, the recording continued all the way through the building, past plenty of police officers and Touched-related authorities before eventually leading all the way out to the sidewalk. There, the apparently hidden camera was turned to reveal the actual, publicly known Star-Touched/Detroit Police liaison building. It was the closest thing to a Conservator and Spartan (the State-level Star-Touched team) base that was known to civilians.


    Calmly while the view from the camera went dark, the blonde girl asked, ¡°Satisfied?¡±


    Mariana squinted briefly, but she couldn¡¯t really argue with the footage. She had questions, that was for sure. But something told her the girl wasn¡¯t going to tell her how she had pulled that off. On the other hand¡­ ¡°Why should I pay you to do something you¡¯ve already done?¡±


    She was rewarded with a smile. This one seemed more genuine. ¡°First,¡± the girl informed her, ¡°because as easy as it was to change that information, I could easily change it back again. Second, because if you tried to leave without paying me, you wouldn¡¯t make it very far.¡± The flat statement came with absolute certainty, as if Mariana could no more make it past the girl than jump and touch the moon. ¡°But those two reasons don¡¯t matter. Only the third one does.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m paying you, I¡¯m paying you,¡± Mariana snapped dismissively. ¡°It was just a question, don¡¯t be dramatic.¡± Even as she said it, the woman was digging out the extra five thousand. No sense in pushing things. ¡°See, it¡¯s right here?¡± Pausing with the cash in her hands as though only just then realizing something, she asked, ¡°What was the third reason, anyway?¡±


    ¡°The third reason,¡± the girl explained with that same simple smile and calm voice, ¡°is that it doesn¡¯t matter anyway, because I¡¯m taking all of your money. But you won¡¯t be alive to care.¡±


    Just as Mariana processed those words, her eyes widening while her mouth opened to scream, the girl lashed out with a lightning-fast punch. Mariana felt sudden blinding pain, staggering as her throat collapsed from the blow. She couldn¡¯t talk. She couldn¡¯t breathe save for a little bit. The next thing she knew, her face was pressed down against the bed as the girl straddled her from behind, keeping her head down with one hand while ignoring all of Mariana¡¯s panicked flailing. She was wheezing desperately, struggling to pull in the tiniest gasps of air.


    ¡°My name is Paige Banners,¡± the girl informed her. ¡°I thought you should know that first. And you¡­ you¡¯re a bottom-feeding piece of shit. Do you know what you are? You¡¯re a woman who sold her own daughter. You sold your own child. You had a wonderful, brilliant, strong little kid and what did you do? You sold her into slavery.¡±


    Wheezing even harder, Mariana struggled desperately, head shaking as much as it could with the girl¡¯s grip on it and her weight holding the woman down. She tried to protest, tried to give her explanation.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Paige snapped. ¡°I don¡¯t care how you justified it to yourself. I¡¯m telling you what you did, not how you lied about it in your own head. You sold your own child into slavery to a bunch of supervillains. You let them hurt her. You let them hurt your own child. You knew they were going to torture her. Torture her. You stupid, evil, pathetic little bitch. You knew they were torturing her, that they were going to keep torturing her. There¡¯s two ways you leaving her with them could have played out. One, they end up killing her because she won¡¯t do what they want. Two, they break her and she starts serving them. Which means she kills other people. That¡¯s what you sentenced your own child to. That¡¯s what you sold her into. Either she would have died, or she would have become a murderer, a monster. All so you could have half a million bucks.¡±


    With that, Mariana found herself briefly free as Paige stepped off of her. She was still struggling to breathe, wheezing heavily and yet barely getting any air at all. Heaving herself over, she stopped short, staring at the pistol that the blonde girl was suddenly pointing at her.


    ¡°My father did what you tried to do.¡± Paige¡¯s voice was eerily calm, the barrel looming in Mariana¡¯s vision, leaving the girl¡¯s own face rather indistinct. ¡°He sold me. He used me. He¡¯s still using me. He¡¯s making me do things I don¡¯t want to do. Things I don¡¯t have a choice in.


    ¡°People who do that, people who sell their children just to get what they want, they don¡¯t deserve to live. I hate my father. I hate him more than anything else in the world. I want him to sit on that island and rot. Unfortunately, I can¡¯t stop him. I can¡¯t hurt him. I can¡¯t make him pay for what he¡¯s done. But you? I can make you pay. I can make sure you never hurt anyone again.


    ¡°So I¡¯ll tell you what¡¯s going to happen. You¡¯re going to die. And I¡¯m going to take your body for a ride out of state. I¡¯ll drop you in a ditch somewhere with your new identification. Then they¡¯ll find you and you¡¯ll be just another dead woman from California. Because you¡¯re never going to hurt your daughter again. You are going to disappear. Your daughter isn¡¯t going to feel guilty about you dying. She¡¯s not going to wonder if she could have helped you. You¡¯re going to drop out of her life and never appear again. Mariana Amor is going to disappear forever. Because you don¡¯t deserve to have your daughter grieve for you.¡±


    ¡°And that money you were so proud of? Half of it is going to become an anonymous donation to an organization devoted to supporting the survivors of domestic violence and child neglect, and the other half is going to support adoption services and people who foster children. Because you might have been a piece of shit, but there are a lot of people better than you who can put that money to something worthwhile.¡±


    Finally, Mariana managed to wheeze out the words, ¡°Take¡­ it¡­ let¡­ me¡­¡±


    She never finished the sentence. Paige didn¡¯t particularly care what she was going to say, pulling the trigger to send a single Tech-Silenced round through the woman¡¯s forehead. Stepping back to let the body fall, she stowed the pistol at its holster on her back. The shot had been quiet as a whisper, but she still needed to be quick. She would clean up here, get the body into the car under the cover of night, then make the drive to drop it off as far away as possible. It was a four and a half hour drive to Chicago. Dumping the body somewhere in that city, then getting back would take all night. But that was fine.


    Reaching into her pocket, she took out a couple latex gloves, and then got to work.

 Ready 11-01

    I had no idea how much time had passed when I eventually snapped awake. There was no slow waking process, no chance to pretend I was still out of it. There was just a sudden rush of panicked adrenaline, as if I¡¯d had a nightmare. Then I was sitting up, eyes wide as I practically hyperventilated while looking around wildly to see where I was. The memory of Pencil¡¯s sack-cloth covered face staring intently at me as I passed out was fresh in my panicked mind.


    He wasn¡¯t in front of me anymore. I also wasn¡¯t in that backyard. The room around me was fairly small, just nine feet by nine feet square, and empty. The floor, ceiling, and all four walls were made of cement. There was a heavy metal door straight ahead from where I was sitting, with one of those sliding window hatch things that someone outside could open to look in.


    Um. This was bad. I was just gonna go ahead and say this was really bad. The Scions of Typhon, and Pencil in particular, were evil fucking psychopaths at the best of times, to anyone. But they had reason to be particularly annoyed with me. This¡­ yeah, this was very fucking bad.


    My helmet was missing, I realized belatedly. But I still had on my mask and the rest of my costume. The worry that I hadn¡¯t always had my mask on blared in the back of my head, but there was literally nothing I could do about that right now. I had to find a way out of this place.


    Wait, my phones! Quickly, I checked my pockets. They were there. So was the photo that I¡¯d taken out of that car, but I ignored that for the moment. Instead, I pulled my Touched phone out and looked at it. No signal. Of course, why would Pencil and his people be stupid enough to leave me in a position where I could simply call for help? This wasn¡¯t exactly their first kidnapping.


    Okay, I had to find a way out of this. I had to. The Scions were not the kind of people who would just let me go. This was going to get a hell of a lot worse really quick if I didn¡¯t get out of here. No one was coming to help me. No one knew where I was. I¡¯d stubbornly insisted on dealing with this myself, while lying to Pack that I would ask That-A-Way for help. So neither of them knew I was in trouble, or where I might be even if they did figure that out. I was on my own.


    How was I supposed to escape from a cement room? The purple paint made me strong, but not that strong. The red paint might be able to yank the steel door off its hinges, maybe. Or at least bend it enough for me to squeeze out. But if it did, what was on the other side? I could not deal with the entire team of Scions, Touched and Prev alike, all by myself, right in the middle of wherever they¡¯d taken me. That wasn¡¯t gonna happen.


    But did I have a choice besides trying? What else was I going to do, sit here and wait for Pencil to get to the part where he tortured me for funsies? Plead with them to pretty please let me go? Yeah, like that would be useful for anything other than possibly making them laugh a little bit.


    Getting to my feet, I ignored the mounting panic, the confusion over that whole picture with the Anthony kid and me, my guilt over getting Eits hurt and then lying to Pack about contacting That-A-Way, and everything else. The only thing that mattered right now was getting out of here.


    To that end, I focused on that metal door. Using the red paint to tear it free, with help from purple paint for strength as I yanked on it, was my best chance. I didn¡¯t see any cameras or anything, so I might be able to pull this off and take whoever was outside by surprise if I managed to get the door free before they could react to the sound. Wait, sound. Duh. Black paint. Okay, I would silence the door and the wall around it just to be on the safe side. Then I¡¯d tear it free and deal with whatever was waiting for me. It wouldn¡¯t be easy, but it was better than sitting here waiting.


    Or¡­ the sliding viewing hatch thing could move aside, revealing a pair of eyes staring in at me. There was a lingering pause as the eyes took me in for a moment, then the hatch slid closed and I heard the muffled sound of a voice calling out to someone else, ¡°Hey, he¡¯s awake!¡±


    He. The person called me a he. That was good, right? It showed that my whole disguise wasn¡¯t blown or anything. I was basically trying to latch onto anything remotely positive in that moment.


    While I was still trying to orient myself from having my hypothetical escape attempt aborted so quickly, there was the sound of several heavy locks disengaging on the other side of the door. Really heavy locks, it seemed like. With a couple more dull thunks of metal settling into place, the door was hauled open. It pulled outward, revealing a figure standing in a dimly lit stone hallway.


    ¡°If Santa¡¯s reindeer staged a coup, who would their leader be?¡±


    Wait, what¨CSanta¡¯s reindeer were¡­ right, Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen. I¡¯d always thought of the ones in front as the leaders, but would that be Blitzen? That sounded right, he was the last one mentioned so he was like the leader, right? Or would that be Rudolph? No, Rudolph was added last so there was no way he¡¯d be the leader of a coup. Would he even be involved in a coup, or would he be too loyal to Santa to¨C


    My hands were cuffed behind my back. Snapping out of my brief daze, I saw Cup, of course. She was in her white cloak, bodysuit, and the matching mask that covered the bottom half of her face while leaving the upper half, including brilliantly gleaming blue eyes, revealed. I saw a hint of dark hair mostly hidden within the hood as she winked at me. ¡°Hiya, Colorboy. Is it my turn to break your arm?¡± Her tone was intentionally, almost mockingly light, but there was an underlying anger there. Yeah, she was definitely holding a grudge.


    Cup continued. ¡°Those are stay-down cuffs, for the record. So don¡¯t think you can just attack us and run off. You won¡¯t get very far.¡± Her eyes watched mine intently, before laughing at whatever she saw there.


    Another figure appeared in the doorway just beyond the psycho girl. It was Fork, the living porcupine guy with the explosive quills. He gave me a hateful glare before clearing his throat.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Cup snapped without looking that way. Her eyes rolled as she spoke in a stage-whisper. ¡°People are so impatient, am I right?¡± Without waiting for me to answer, she added, ¡°Oh well, ready to join the party upstairs?¡± As if I had the slightest hint of a choice. ¡°Pencil really wants to talk to you. And he¡¯s even more impatient sometimes than Pokey there.¡±


    Things had been bad before. Now they were worse. I had stay-down cuffs on, so even if I managed to get away from these two, I wouldn¡¯t get very far. The cuffs would just yank me to the ground, and they were made to keep people a hell of a lot stronger than I was right where they were. Plus, with Cup and Fork here, not to mention whoever else happened to be near¡­ yeah, I wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. I was going to have to just go along with things and look for an opening. And try to keep myself from panicking too much. I had to shove the rising terror down, because it wasn¡¯t helpful right now. I had to push it away and keep my eyes open. Bad as this was, something would happen. That, or I¡¯d just make it happen.


    As soon as I came to the decision not to try to fight right now, Cup immediately spoke. ¡°And there it is. He knows better.¡± Somehow, she¡¯d apparently read all of that in my eyes. Probably because she was very accustomed to dealing with people who felt hopeless and realized how totally screwed they were.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Stepping aside, the white-clad psychopath gestured for Fork to lead the way. ¡°Let¡¯s get him upstairs, before brother dearest has a conniption. You know how he loves his dramatic moments.¡±


    Brother¡­ wait, Pencil was her brother? Was that a secret? I felt like that was a secret. Which didn¡¯t say much about their intentions for me, not that that was much of a surprise. Still, no wonder Anchovy had said that Pencil would be mad at me for hurting Cup. She was his sister.


    We seemed to be in some kind of underground bunker, from what I could tell as we moved through the narrow corridor beyond the room that had been my cell. The whole time I desperately watched for an escape opportunity, but there just¡­ wasn¡¯t anything. Fork was ahead of me, Cup behind me, and there were various armed guards along the way who definitely weren¡¯t just going to let me run off even if I could have escaped my cuffs. And that was the biggest problem anyway. Nothing I could do would let me go anywhere with these damn cuffs on. The second I tried to leave Cup¡¯s range, I would simply be yanked to the floor. Damn it! Fuck, fuck, how could I be so stupid? I was still stupid, even after getting Eits hurt by asking him to help me. What was I supposed to do now? There had to be something, right? There¡­ there had to be something¡­


    But there wasn¡¯t. Or at least, not one that I could think of before we turned left at a T-junction in the corridors, went through three different heavy steel doors in succession with a short six foot hallway between each, and emerged into¡­ an apartment? Yeah, it looked like an ordinary old, fairly middle of the road apartment living room with an attached kitchenette in the middle of this bomb shelter, bunker, whatever it was.


    Pencil was there, watching tv in a recliner while wearing a bathrobe over his regular costume, sackcloth mask and all. He held a tumbler of whiskey or something, swishing it around thoughtfully without looking up as we entered. His focus seemed to be on the television nearby, where someone on the news was reporting about some kind of fight between the state heroes known as the Spartans, and the Ninety-Niners.


    Neither Cup nor Fork spoke or did anything to attract the man¡¯s attention. Not that they needed to, considering the sound the door made when it was opening. He knew we were there, but ignored us while watching the screen, still swishing that whiskey around thoughtfully. Through it all, I was frantically trying to think if there was anything I could do, anything at all.


    Finally, the man picked up the remote, muted the television, and addressed me without looking. ¡°Do you know why we let you keep your phone and anything else you have on you? Do you know why you still have your costume and mask? Aside from¡­¡± He gestured vaguely toward the nearby table, where I could see my helmet sitting.


    ¡°Um.¡± I paused before guessing, ¡°Because you really like a challenge?¡±


    There was a slight chuckle at that, from both him and Cup. Fork was silent. Pencil finally stood from his chair, shrugging out of the robe before letting it fall as he stepped my way. Stopping in front of me, the man tilted his head, staring at me through the holes in that simple sack of a mask. ¡°No, because it¡¯s not a challenge. I¡¯m sure you already tried calling for help, to no avail. You¡¯re alone here, surrounded by people who¡­ I promise, would very much like to kill you after making sure you suffer so goddamn much. And you have no way of escaping, let alone posing any sort of threat.


    ¡°You have your mask because, while I could have taken it away from you, it will be so much more fun when you give it to me yourself. Taking something from someone? Any buffoon with a knife can do that. Making you give it up yourself? Making you give me your mask, tell me your name, your age, the names of your family, your friends? Making you do all of that in the desperate hope of sparing yourself some¡­ small measure of pain, that¡¯s just¡­ that is the real power. I could take everything from you in a single moment. But that¡¯s like playing a game with all the cheat codes on. It¡¯s fun for about five minutes, but you don¡¯t get the real experience, you know what I mean? No, the real joy is in stretching things out, in truly earning that submission. You are going to give that mask to me yourself, along with everything else I ask for. And that is far more fun than simply taking it from you like some sort of thug.¡±


    It took me a second to find my voice. I was supposed to be brave and basically spit in the face of danger, but it was hard to find a witty retort in that moment. I was terrified. I knew what the Scions of Typhon did to their victims. I knew just how sadistic they could be. Trapped here, alone, surrounded by several of the most dangerous, monstrous pieces of shit in the country? Yeah, a quick, pithy retort didn¡¯t come immediately to mind.


    But I also didn¡¯t want them to know just how easily they could get to me. So I finally found my voice, the only response that came to mind being to basically echo his words with as much disbelief as I could manage. ¡°You think you can hurt me enough to make me just tell you who I am and sic you on all my friends and family?¡±


    Somehow, I resisted the urge to tell him that he might be surprised at just how hard taking on my family would end up being. I was going to say nothing that might give him a hint about my situation, or anything about me.


    ¡°I think,¡± Pencil replied, stressing that word in a sort-of mocking way, ¡°that you¡¯re very new to this, but you¡¯ve had some early success. I think you¡¯re a very special person, and that I¡¯m going to have a lot of fun, maybe the most fun I¡¯ve had in a long time, breaking that down.¡± I could see his smile through the hole in the mask. ¡°I think making someone watch you kill the people they care about is a pretty good time. But convincing them to tell you who to target? Making them press that metaphorical button themselves and ask you to please spare them a little pain by hurting someone else? That¡¯s how you really break them. Everyone thinks they¡¯ll be strong, that they¡¯d never betray someone they love. But you know what? Most people do, given enough incentive. How much is enough for you? I guess we¡¯ll find out.¡±


    ¡°Do we get to play with him now?¡± Cup asked, her tone pleading. ¡°I was soooo good!¡± She stepped around me and embraced him tightly, rubbing up against him. ¡°Please let me play with him now. Throw a treat to your little sister!¡±


    Well, that was kind of an odd thing for a sister to do to her bro¨C


    Then she tugged her mask down a bit (faced mostly away from me so I still couldn¡¯t see her face) and kissed him. Like, full on the mouth. Not just a peck either, it was far more than that. They were¡­ um, yeah, busy like that for a few long seconds.


    What. The. Fuck.


    Was this the torture starting? I felt like this was the torture starting.


    Finally, the man pulled back, rubbing Cup¡¯s shoulders, back, and then, ahhh¡­ lower in a still-very-very-very-not-brotherly way before focusing on me. ¡°Not yet,¡± he said flatly. ¡°First, I want to see if he¡¯ll answer one question.¡± His tone darkened. ¡°How do you know Robert Parson? See, he¡¯s been a reeeeeeal pain in the ass. Took me a long time to find his name, even longer to get any kind of lead on him. Then I find out some kid¡¯s out there looking for the same name. Turns out he¡¯s got an address of Robert Parson¡¯s mother. Dead for a year now, rest her soul. So, I sent a couple friends out to convince the kid to give up the goods. They get interrupted, but manage to take his phone. We get the address off that, show up to look for clues about where Parson himself could be, and who do we find there? You. Little old you.


    ¡°So you tell me, kid. Do you know where he is? Because that could spare you a lot of trouble, I promise. Hell, I might even be convinced to let you scoot along on your own, nice and healthy. I may be annoyed with you, but Robert Parson is one that I¡¯m willing to dismiss an awful lot of grudges for. Everything I just said a minute ago about all the things I could put you through, and I¡¯d just let that go in exchange for telling me where that son of a bitch is.¡±


    Well, that one I could answer honestly. ¡°I¡¯m looking for him too,¡± I replied simply. ¡°The¡­ the boy your pieces of shit attacked was finding an address for me.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the anger about that out of my voice, and I didn¡¯t really try.


    There was a smile from the man. ¡°Is that right? Now why, exactly, would you be looking for Robert Parson?¡±


    Before I could say anything to that, Fork suddenly looked up from the phone he¡¯d been studying. ¡°Boss,¡± he started, ¡°they¡¯ve got something. Guy sent a letter from some place near Lake Victoria, north-east of Lansing. Contents were burned or tossed, but they found enough of the envelope in the back of the fireplace to make out the address.¡±


    That slow, Cheshire smile that showed off Pencil¡¯s teeth appeared, as he murmured, ¡°Really, now? Lake Victoria. What¡¯s that, couple hours from here?¡± Abruptly, the man gave a sharp whistle and swatted Cup on her backside. ¡°Go warm up the car, babe.¡±


    While she slinked off to do just that, he looked to me and curiously asked, ¡°Tell me something, kid. What kind of snacks do you like?


    ¡°Cuz we¡¯re going on a car ride.¡±

 Ready 11-02

    I had no more chances to escape my captors while being escorted out of their bunker than I¡¯d had the whole time in it. Less, actually, considering they put a bag over my head and cinched it in place. Now I was blind and handcuffed, and being guided down the hall by Cup while her brother (whom she apparently enjoyed making out with?!) and Fork trailed behind. There was no way I was going to get away from them just then. We passed through several hallways and, given the way the sound changed, also a few larger rooms. I could hear other voices now and then, some laughing or congratulating their boss, others muttering insults and threats at me.


    It was¡­ it was terrifying. Yeah, I was supposed to be brave. I was supposed to be a Star-Touched, some bright symbol or whatever, who didn¡¯t let this kind of thing scare them. But¡­ I was. I was scared. My body was shaking enough as we walked that I knew they could see it. I had to fight not to let my terrified tears leak too much and blind me. How pathetic was that? How pathetic would it be to have to ask the psychotic supervillain monsters to let me please wipe the baby tears out of my eyes? Damn it, damn it, what the fuck was wrong with me? I was supposed to be brave. I was supposed to be¡­ I was supposed to be better than this.


    But I wasn¡¯t, and I couldn¡¯t find a way out. I was forced to just stumble along blindly while I was led to what was apparently an underground garage of some kind. I felt myself brush past a few different cars before being pulled to a stop. One of the doors was opened, and I was not-so-gently pushed inside. As I fell in, Cup shoved my legs the rest of the way. Then the bag was pulled off my head to reveal the fact that I was now in the back seat of an SUV, on the floor. From my prone position, I could see a couple random guys step up into the middle seat. They weren¡¯t wearing masks or anything, but honestly, I probably couldn¡¯t have picked them out of a lineup later anyway. They just looked like random, average guys I would have passed on the street without a second thought. They could¡¯ve been clerks at the corner gas station or accountants. Anything, really. Which made the fact that they clearly worked for Pencil and worshiped the Abyssal Typhon even more disturbing. These guys weren¡¯t polite enough to tattoo ¡®sick freak obsessed with literal monsters¡¯ across their foreheads, unfortunately.


    Cup hopped up in the back with me, stepping on my leg in the process before her heel went back to kick me in the side. Then she plopped down on the seat, a pistol held idly in one hand. ¡°Try anything,¡± she informed me, ¡°and I¡¯ll shoot the next five people we pass on the street.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t go anywhere with the cuffs on,¡± Pencil reminded me. ¡°So don¡¯t try to get cute.¡± Then he shut the door before moving around to the driver¡¯s side. Fork was apparently not coming. It was just the three of us heading out on this particular trip. Well, the three of us and the two random guys in the middle seat. But no Fork or other Fell-Touched, apparently. How lucky for me. Now I only had to find a way to escape my stay-down cuffs and deal with two of the worst supervillains in the city, along with a couple of their cannon fodder. Where was the challenge?


    Yeah, I wasn¡¯t even convincing myself. I was in really deep shit. Really deep. Marianas trench deep. And I had no idea what I could possibly do to get out of it. None. I was in worse trouble than¡­ yeah, this was the worst trouble I¡¯d ever been in. Because I was pretty sure this time wasn¡¯t going to end with these guys just trading my freedom for a favor, like Deicide. Laying there on the floor of the car, with Cup sitting just above me, I was genuinely afraid that¡­ that I wouldn¡¯t get out of this in one piece, or at all. And if I didn¡¯t, what would happen to my parents, my family? Would they just keep being evil and¡­ and hurting people? What would happen to Wren, or Izzy? Especially Izzy. She was stuck in that house with my evil family. And if I wasn¡¯t there, if I couldn¡¯t be there to help if she got in trouble, what would happen to her then? What if Izzy found out what I had and she had no one to help her, just like I had no one right now?


    I was scared. And everything running through my mind about what could happen to the people I cared about if I didn¡¯t come back made that fear even worse. It was all I could do not to cry like a pathetic little baby as I lay there, frozen in terror as the vehicle started up, the engine coming to life with a steady rumble. And from the brief look that Cup gave me, I could tell she heard the very slight noise that I made while holding back those tears and was pretty amused by it.


    Okay, Cassidy, I told myself. Yes, this is bad. This is¡­ this is really bad. But here¡¯s the thing, if you do nothing, these people will kill you. They will torture and kill you, probably in the worst way possible. Either that or they¡¯ll try to use that torture to turn you to their side, to break you. So what are you going to do? Lay there and cry about how unfair all this is, about how scared you are? Or are you going to get it together and start thinking of a way out of this? Stop sniffling and start thinking of actual solutions. Because nobody is out there. Nobody is coming for you.


    The problem was, easy as it might¡¯ve been to think that to myself, it didn¡¯t actually solve anything more than crying about it would have. I was still stuck here, trapped by a group of psychopaths with no apparent way out of it. My powers couldn¡¯t get me out with these cuffs on. I still had them, but the paint wouldn¡¯t be able to launch me out of this car and away from the Scions. If I got too far away from Cup, I¡¯d be yanked down to the ground by too much force for the red, purple, or blue paints to counter. Besides, even if I could get away, Cup had promised she would shoot several people in retaliation. Could I really condemn them to die like that?


    No. I couldn¡¯t just escape. I had to stop them¡­ somehow. Think. I just had to think. And ignore the fact that Cup was staring at me with what I could only imagine was open and contemptuous amusement behind that mask of hers. She knew. She knew I was trying to think of a way out of this, and she found it funny. Of course she did. She and Pencil were like psychotic little kids tormenting a bug they had found by the side of the road. She clearly wanted me to pay, not only for helping to stop them from doing too much damage to that children¡¯s hospital before, but also because I had physically hurt her. She wanted me to suffer, which meant dragging this out.


    The sound of the Monster Mash song interrupted my thoughts. It was coming from Cup, who took a phone from her pocket and answered with, ¡°What¡¯s up, buttercup?¡± There was a brief pause as she listened for a moment before murmuring a few acknowledgments. Then she looked toward the front. ¡°Shovel says a couple Touched showed up at the old bitch¡¯s house. Looked like that Compasscunt from the Little League Of Charity Scouts or whatever the fuck they call themselves, and Blackjack¡¯s newest girls, Soundwave and the one with the lizards.¡±


    That-A-Way, Pack, and¡­ um¡­ the sound girl. I hadn¡¯t actually met or seen her in person yet, and I couldn¡¯t remember her name just then. What were they doing? It was obvious that the ¡®old bitch¡¯s house¡¯ was the one I¡¯d been captured at. And clearly just as obvious what those guys were doing. They were looking for me. Pack had obviously found a way to contact That-A-Way, found out I¡¯d lied, and they¡¯d gone there themselves, only to be too late.


    ¡°Well, obviously our friend in the back there kept up with his old buddies from the hospital. How sweet. Shovel have any trouble with them?¡± Pencil asked idly from the front, his attention clearly more on other things.


    ¡°Hold on.¡± Cup listened for a second before muttering a curse. Then she answered. ¡°Nope, he took off when the annoying invincible cunt from Ten Towers showed up. Skipper or whatever.¡±


    ¡°Skip,¡± Pencil corrected, sounding slightly more interested. ¡°You¡¯re saying there were people from three different groups, villains and heroes alike, all just¡­ together at that house? The Minority girl and the one with the lizards are one thing, they worked together before. Maybe even this Broadway, assuming she¡¯s partners or friends with the Lizard. But what was someone from Ten Towers doing there?¡± From his tone, I could tell that the next words were directed at me. ¡°You been making even more friends there, buddy?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond, of course. What was I going to say to the asshole? Besides, I was still trying to figure out why Skip was there myself. I¡¯d run into her earlier, of course. But so what? Why would she be at the house? It didn¡¯t make sense. Maybe she was friends with That-A-Way? But even that was weird and didn¡¯t seem right. I couldn¡¯t figure it out, even if I had wanted to answer.


    ¡°Playing the strong, silent type, huh?¡± There was a chuckle in Pencil¡¯s voice. ¡°Well, just keep in mind, they won¡¯t find you. The toy we used to kill the signal in your phone and anything else you¡¯ve got on you isn¡¯t a half-measure. See, we¡¯ve found over the years that people keep trying to make it harder and harder for a good kidnapper to make a living. You¡¯ve got duplicate phones, tracking devices in the clothes, embedded in the shoes, under the skin¡­ some people are just really fucking averse to being abducted for some reason, you know? Anyway, short of full-body exploratory surgery every goddamn time we want to hold someone for awhile, the best choice is our signal killer. Your phone and any other tracking device you might have on you just in case of¡­ well, in case of something like this, are all permanently offline. But hey, I bet you could still play Candy Crush on that thing. That¡¯s something, huh? Am I a nice guy or what? I mean, until I cut your thumbs off. Hey, what do you think would be worse, losing both thumbs or one eye?¡±


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    Yeah, I wasn¡¯t going to rise to that bait. I just stayed silent and looked at Cup. She looked back at me, shoulders shaking just a little with silent laughter. It was clear that she was endlessly amused by her brother¡¯s antics. Which made precisely one of us. Or three, I supposed, given the two other guys who were apparently just fine and dandy working for fucking psychopaths.


    When I refused to respond, Pencil just continued. ¡°No opinion? Eh, I guess I¡¯ll take it as it comes. Honestly, I¡¯m leaning toward the eye thing. All that jumping and running around you keep doing, how hard do you think it¡¯d be with shitty depth perception? Honestly, that seriously might be worth letting you go afterward, just to see you hopping around slamming into things, falling off buildings, shit like that. Fucking great. But see, that gets to my whole deal with this. Killing you? That¡¯s amateur hour. There¡¯s no point. Some guy catches you off-guard with a fucking pistol can kill you. No. No, that¡¯s too easy. That¡¯s too¡­ boring. What someone like you needs, what you deserve, is to be broken. And you mark my words, Mr. Paintball, when we¡¯re through this little road trip, I¡¯ll be able to turn my full and undivided attention to you.


    ¡°And you will be broken when I¡¯m done.¡±


    Once her brother was done talking, Cup stared at me intently for a few seconds. Whatever she was looking for she must have found, because she looked toward the front where I assumed Pencil was watching and gave him a slight nod. Without my helmet, she could probably see the genuine fear in my eyes through the simple ski mask. Try as I might, I couldn¡¯t suppress it. I couldn¡¯t entirely shove down the terror of what might happen, what would happen if I didn¡¯t find a way out of this. I¡¯d seen the news reports. I¡¯d read the articles, heard¡­ heard witnesses that the Scions had intentionally released to carry their stories to the public. Pencil was right, there was no one to help me. I was on my own. And if I didn¡¯t escape, if I didn¡¯t get out of this on my own, then I was going to suffer and probably die on my own. Or suffer so much I gave up my friends and family. Wren. If I told them about Wren, how they could find and twist her¡­


    No. No, no, no. I had to get out of this. I had to get out of this. I wouldn¡¯t let that happen. Please.


    Okay, think. I had to think. Laying on my back there on the floor, I closed my eyes, hoping Cup would assume I was consumed with terror and leave me alone. I just had to think.


    It was late. I had no idea how long I¡¯d been knocked out before, because I¡¯d stupidly not paid attention to the time when I tried to call for help only to find no signal. So it could be ten at night, two in the morning, or anything else. All I knew was that it was dark through the windows of the SUV, save for the glimpses of passing headlights and streetlamps. And because I couldn¡¯t check my phone, I had no idea if my parents were in the middle of a full-scale meltdown about me being missing, or if they hadn¡¯t even noticed yet. Mark that as something to deal with if the time came. That was, if I got out of this alive.


    Which led to the whole escaping part. Yeah. Okay, so what did I have? I could use my powers, but that wouldn¡¯t help much. Purple paint couldn¡¯t make me strong enough to break cuffs that had been designed to hold much stronger Touched than me. Green paint could make me fast, but the second I got too far away from Cup, I¡¯d just be yanked to the ground. Same for red pulling me away from them, or blue launching me. Whatever I did, a second later I¡¯d be yanked down and my ¡®escape¡¯ would be over and done with. So¡­ so what the fuck could I do?


    I knew where Lake Victoria was. It was about an hour and a half or so from Detroit. I had that long to think of a plan, a way to get out of this and not end up under Pencil¡¯s undivided attention.


    So stop panicking, stop being a sniveling little baby, and think. Focus. I could get out of this. I had to get out of this. Hour and a half, brain. You¡¯ve got an hour and a half to think of a genius escape plan.


    Please don¡¯t let me down.


    *****


    When the SUV pulled to a stop along a gravel road, it was still dark outside. My eyes turned slightly to look at the window next to Cup¡¯s head, as I listened to Pencil telling the two men in the middle seat to get out and look around. Once they did so, he addressed my babysitter. ¡°Baby sis, you ready for a little hike?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just drive up there?¡± the girl retorted, her foot idly kicking against my stomach. ¡°Look, the road keeps going up through that gate. How far do we have to walk?¡±


    ¡°Couple miles, according to the map,¡± came the response. ¡°And we can¡¯t drive it. Knowing the old man, he¡¯ll hear the car engine and see the lights. After all we¡¯ve gone through to find this cocksucker, you really wanna give him a chance to escape? We¡¯ll hoof it in through the forest.¡±


    From her reaction, I could tell that Cup wasn¡¯t happy about that. But she didn¡¯t argue. Instead, she just gave me a harder kick, practically stomping on my stomach before opening the door. Her hand grabbed my ankle and yanked, while I scrambled to push myself up awkwardly. I basically half-fell out of the vehicle, then completely fell as she gave me a kick in the back of the leg.


    We were in the middle of nowhere. To the left, I could see water in the far distance. Lake Victoria, I assumed. To the right was a forested area. The gravel road we were on stretched back into the darkness and continued up through a simple metal gate that stretched across it.


    Cup was standing over me, while the two random thugs were spread out. One was examining the gate while the other ran some kind of scanner over the fence before calling back that it was electrified. Pencil was just getting out, adjusting the mask that I was pretty sure he¡¯d had off the whole time we were driving.


    It was now or never. These guys wouldn¡¯t be this distracted again. In a second, they¡¯d remember to pay more attention to me. It was time to enact my genius plan.


    So, I kicked Cup in the leg. More to the point, I activated the purple paint I¡¯d prepared earlier on the inside of my costume leg, powered it, and lashed out with as hard of a kick as I could manage. At the same time, I turned a bit so that the hands behind my back were pointed at her, and shot a bit of silencing black at her chest, to muffle her scream as she started to fall. And to stop the bitch from using her power, of course.


    As Cup fell, I continued my roll so that my cuffed hands were pointed back toward the truck and the gate that one of the men was still inspecting. A shot of red at each sent the SUV flying that way, narrowly missing Pencil, who dropped into a roll to avoid it.


    Meanwhile, that one bit of purple was far from the only paint I¡¯d prepared for this. I had a whole fucking art gallery going on inside my costume, and in that moment, I used green to speed myself up and orange for the defense. I was on my feet, standing over the fallen Cup with my back to her as she held her leg and screamed silently.


    Pencil was coming back to his feet, already out of his roll with his pistol raised. He fired twice, both shots hitting my chest. They stung, but otherwise I was fine. Fine enough to pivot, lashing out with my still-enhanced strength to kick Cup right in the face while she was still on the ground. My foot hit her hard enough to knock the bitch onto her back.


    I kept pivoting. Pencil had fired three more times while running toward me. One shot missed, the other two hit me. Again, they stung without actually damaging me too much. But it was definitely starting to hurt. Time to go!


    Standing over the prone Cup while facing the incoming Pencil, I shot red down at her, matching it with my gloved hand. She was jerked upward, and I caught her arm.


    Pencil knew. He bellowed a threat, a warning, a promise, all three. I ignored him. Using my free hand, I shot blue paint at the ground between us and lunged at it while hauling the dazed and barely conscious Cup along for the ride. My feet hit the paint as I activated it, launching me and Cup high into the air, my momentum carrying us forward.


    We flew over the fence, joined together by the red paint as we came crashing down in the middle of a group of trees some distance beyond. It wasn¡¯t a pretty landing. We fell together, rolling along the ground in a tangled jumble. I took one of Cup¡¯s elbows to the face and I was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t even trying.


    In the end, when the dust settled, the two of us were lying in the dirt next to a bush. I could hear Pencil screaming after me, promising everything he was going to do if I didn¡¯t let his sister go.


    So there I was, barely out of Pencil¡¯s sight, in the middle of nowhere. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, and the only way I could keep moving was by dragging Cup along with me. Because that was the secret. I couldn¡¯t run away from Cup without being yanked to the ground, but as long as she was with me when I escaped, willingly or not, the cuffs wouldn¡¯t activate. And thanks to the black paint, she couldn¡¯t use the command word to activate them manually.


    Now all I had to do was stay away from a totally enraged Pencil and his goons, find my way through this completely dark forest in the middle of nowhere, and stop the bad guys from killing Robert Parsons, all while dragging Queen Psycho along with my hands literally tied behind my back.


    Genius plan indeed.

 Ready 11-03

    I was in trouble. Yeah, that was a fucking understatement. I was on the far side of a fence, not even out of earshot from a pissed-off Pencil and two of his psychotic Prev minions. At my feet was a dazed, barely conscious Cup, and all around me was a nearly pitch-black forest. To top it all off, my hands were cuffed behind my back, making this whole thing even more complicated than it already was. And if Pencil caught me again, I was pretty sure him just straight up killing me was the best I could hope for. More likely, he¡¯d make me scream for a few hours first.


    That wasn¡¯t just speculation either. It was, in general, the gist of the threats I could hear coming from the fence area in between Pencil ordering his man to finish disabling the electricity and alarm. That was why he didn¡¯t just ignore the shock himself, given that it wouldn¡¯t actually hurt him, I realized. He didn¡¯t want to set off the alarm, because¡­ because he didn¡¯t want to alert Robert that we were here? Was he really actually afraid of what Rob¨Cnever mind. Seconds. I had seconds before those three would be right on top of me.


    Using one finger, I turned slightly to shoot a bit of black paint at Cup, just in case. The last thing I needed right then was her managing to orient herself enough to use her power on me. If she did that, I was basically dead. I wouldn¡¯t snap out of it before Pencil managed to catch up.


    There was no time to do anything else. I couldn¡¯t even try to get my hands in front of myself. It would have taken too many of the precious seconds I didn¡¯t actually have. Pencil was already vaulting the fence. I could hear it rattling. Quickly, I turned, activating another small portion of purple paint on me before lashing out with a kick to Cup¡¯s face. She stopped her silent groaning and fell flat. Unconscious, for the moment at least. Stooping, I grabbed her hands and gripped them tightly. Casting a quick look over my shoulder, I saw Pencil dropping off the fence and turning to sprint our way. He probably couldn¡¯t really see us from there, not with the shadows of the trees added to what was already a pretty dark night. Still, he was coming straight for us, with the two minions right behind. I had to move, now!


    Silencing myself as well, I took off running while dragging the unconscious Cup behind me on her stomach. With the purple paint, I barely felt her weight. And as long as she was with me, conscious or not, the cuffs wouldn¡¯t force me to the ground. I could do this. It was awkward as hell, running while literally dragging a full grown woman behind me with my hands cuffed like that. But what else was I going to do, let Pencil catch up and do any of the horrific things he had in mind? Running blind through the dark forest while dragging Cup was the only option I had.


    Except it wasn¡¯t¡­ really like running blind, was it? Because just like my last time traveling through the woods at night, I wasn¡¯t stumbling nearly as much as I should have been. Sure, it was a bit unwieldy, running with Cup like this. But it definitely wasn¡¯t as bad as I would¡¯ve thought it would be. I instinctively knew when to duck from branches I couldn¡¯t actually see. I gave a little hop now and then, passing right over thick roots or low bushes that would have sent me sprawling. Most people running through a nearly pitch-black forest in the middle of the night with their hands cuffed behind their backs probably would have eaten dirt within a few seconds. But I just¡­ didn¡¯t. I knew where and how to move to avoid hitting anything, even though there was no way I could have seen any of it in time. Particularly given I was running flat out, with a good portion of my attention centered on listening to the sound of pursuit. It was just¡­ instinct of some kind?


    Whatever, I wasn¡¯t going to question it. I didn¡¯t have time to question it. All I knew was that I had to keep moving. The sound of Pencil¡¯s pursuit faded somewhat as I gained ground on him, but I could still hear the psycho and his two minions not too far behind. All three had flashlights they were shining around, the beams flickering wildly back and forth as they searched for me.


    Briefly, I worried about one of them opening fire before realizing that they wouldn¡¯t risk hitting Cup. They still hadn¡¯t been able to get a good look at me and were simply following the trail I left in my wild flight. So maybe it was time to do something to make following me a bit harder.


    First, I renewed my own purple paint once more before using my grip on Cup¡¯s hands to put a bit more black paint on her. Keeping her silent was just as important as anything else right now, and I didn¡¯t trust her not to wake up at some point in this and immediately use her power to put an end to my escape. As long as I could stop her from talking, she¡¯d be a hell of a lot more manageable. I just wished I¡¯d had the time and materials to actually tie her up, or do¡­ anything other than dragging her along by the hands.


    Fortunately, for now, she was still knocked out. But I kept the black paint going just in case. Then, keeping my grip on her hands, I moved one finger to point at a tree we were passing and shot a spray of white paint at it. While continuing to run, I put a whole line of white paint down, trying to judge when I only had a small amount of paint left. Then I stopped spraying, but kept running. Behind me, the sound of the three thoroughly pissed off pursuers grew louder from my hesitation. They were close. Too damn close. If I waited any longer, they¡¯d be right on top of me. Then I¡¯d either be dead, or just wish very badly that I was.


    But the worst thing about all of this? I missed running through the dark forest with Paige. At least she hadn¡¯t been dead weight who would also have tried to kill me if she was awake. That was how far I¡¯d fallen. I missed Paige Banners. What in the seventeen hells was my life?


    At least I didn¡¯t panic. I focused on the sound of the men running. I judged where they were, all while also sprinting through the dark woods. How? How could I run like this, drag this unconscious girl behind me, navigate a totally unfamiliar forest in the middle of the night while also listening to my pursuers and accurately judging exactly where they were in those same unfamiliar woods? How?


    It was ridiculous. I shouldn¡¯t have been able to. But I did. I knew, without question, exactly when the men reached the spot where I had left that line of white paint. Which meant I knew exactly when to trigger it.


    I¡¯d left enough paint right there that, as it activated, that whole area of the forest briefly lit up. It was incredibly bright. Knowing it was coming, I had closed my eyes just in case and was faced away. But I still saw a bit of the flash. Being right on top of it would have been utterly blinding.  Which, given the sudden new litany of screaming curses coming from back there, it really was. And it was more than a flash, actually. The light continued on for a full ten seconds, making it even harder for my pursuers to see where they were going.


    But that was just step one of plan ¡®lose these assholes.¡¯ The second the flash triggered, I also painted the boots on my feet bright blue and triggered the last of the purple paint that I had prepared on the inside of my costume. With the added strength, I leapt as hard as I could, triggering the blue paint on my way down. The impact from the jump against that blue paint rocketed me up and forward. With Cup held tightly, I went flying through the trees, breaking through a handful of branches on the way. Coming down, my feet landed for an instant. But the blue paint on my boots was still active, so I was launched upward again and kept flying.


    For the next ten seconds, I kept essentially bouncing my way through the forest. Each blue-and-purple-paint assisted leap carried me a huge distance, while my weird and unexplained subconscious knowledge of where all the trees and such were meant I could safely make those leaps without slamming headfirst into an obstacle. In the brief time that my pursuers would have been blinded, I put as much distance between us as possible. It would be a lot harder for them to track me accurately with so much space between landings. They couldn¡¯t easily track my footprints when those footprints were at least sixty feet apart.


    Finally, I had to stop. Partly because I felt Cup starting to shift in my grip. She was waking up. So I dropped both of us down, releasing the bitch before hitting her with more black paint. Then I pivoted to face her.


    Yeah, she was awake. She wasn¡¯t happy or fully coherent, but she was awake. Her eyes blinked at me blearily, barely visible through the moonlight that cut through the trees. Even with the white mask covering the bottom of her face, I could tell she was trying to speak, only to freeze when no sound came out. Even as dark as it was, I could see the hatred and anger in her sudden glare. Yup, she was becoming more coherent by the second, and was definitely pissed off.


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    But guess what, I wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled about this whole situation either. Given the choice, I would¡¯ve left her there. But the cuffs meant that I didn¡¯t have that choice. Instead, I had to keep dragging her around with me.


    Or did I? Wait a second. Thinking quickly, I pivoted and used my cuffed hands to shoot a bunch of red paint over the other girl. She flailed, and was already shoving herself to her feet when I pivoted back the other way, shooting one bit of red toward the nearby tree. As Cup made it up, hand grabbing for something in her costume, I triggered the paint while diving out of the way. With a silent yelp, she was hauled through the air, slamming face-first into the tree. Oops not oops.


    Of course, the thing Cup had been grabbing was a gun. It fell to the ground as she was yanked through the air. I heard the thump of it landing and saw the outline of it right at my feet. Quickly, I kicked it off out of sight before moving to the psycho currently held tight against the tree. She was struggling, and I heard her voice start to cut in just in time for me to hit her with a quick shot of black paint.


    Ten seconds. I had ten seconds before the red paint would release her. Which meant I couldn¡¯t exactly be gentle or careful about this. Instead, I shoved my back right up against hers, pinning her even more fully against the wood. My cuffed hands frantically felt up her pants for pockets while I found myself muttering, ¡°Sorry, sorry, I know you¡¯re a fucking psycho, but sorry.¡± One by one, I shoved my hands into her pockets, searching them as quickly as I could while trying to ignore the unfortunate¡­ positioning and circumstances.


    Gum, a notebook, a pen, a switchblade, no key, no key! Damn it, please don¡¯t say it fucking fell out while she was being dragged back there. If it was lying somewhere in the woods, I was screwed.


    Finally, shoving one hand inside her back pocket (and really trying to ignore how awkward that was), I found it. The key. It was there. My fingers closed around it, and I jerked away from her, half-stumbling before pivoting back to face her. Unlocking the cuffs behind my own back wasn¡¯t exactly easy, but I had a trick. Namely, I brushed my finger over the cuffs until I found the keyhole. Then I shot a tiny dot of red paint into that keyhole. With my other hand, I found the tip of the key, painting that red as well.


    With that done, I just activated the tiny dots of red paint on both, and the key was immediately yanked straight into the hole. I pivoted, grasping for it with my fingers. Just as I got hold of it, Cup fell backward off the tree. The red paint had worn off, which meant the black had definitely¨C


    ¡°How many¨C¡±


    That was as far as I let her get. Still holding the key with two fingers, I lashed out as hard as I could, kicking Cup in the back. It was enough to stop her from talking, knocking her forward into the tree with a yelp. Using the bare couple of seconds that gained me, I twisted the key. The cuffs popped open, and I let them fall to the ground with a clatter before quickly shooting black paint at Cup once more. That shut her up again, just as she was trying to talk.


    The black paint did not, however, stop her from turning and diving at me. I went down hard with the older, bigger girl on top of me, landing on my back while her fist slammed into my chin. Her eyes were wild in the moonlight, her fist colliding with my face so hard I almost saw more stars in front of me than were visible in the sky through the trees. Fuck, I missed my helmet.


    Then she hit me a third time, and ended up regretting it. Because I didn¡¯t have my helmet, but I did have orange paint. That time, her fist didn¡¯t hurt me at all, while she made a flinching motion. Adding purple paint, I shoved her off me, lashing out with a kick into her stomach that doubled the crazy bitch over. Before she could recover, I quickly kicked out again to knock her legs out from under her. It was Cup¡¯s turn to fall on her back.


    It was also her turn to wear those handcuffs. Before she could recover, I grabbed the cuffs from the ground, linking them around her wrists. They clicked into place, just as a flashlight beam swept nearby. My gaze snapped over that way, and I saw them. My pursuers were coming fast. I didn¡¯t have time to do anything else. But hopefully dealing with Cup would slow them down.


    ¡°Later,¡± I whispered, patting her on the back before tucking the key in my pocket. Then I painted the outside of my costume completely black, activated the silencing power, and took off running. A bit of green on my shoes lent a bit of speed, letting me haul ass away from that spot.


    Go, go! My hands were free and I didn¡¯t have to lug Cup around anymore. Plus, they wouldn¡¯t be able to get her out of there very easily without the key that I was carrying. This was my chance to get to the cabin ahead of them and warn Robert. I just had to keep fucking moving!


    So, I did. With my hands freed, I was able to move much faster, using a mixture of blue and red paint to bounce and yank myself from tree to tree, with added green for speed. Ignoring the darkness entirely, I practically flew through the unfamiliar woods. Cabin. I needed to find that cabin, but how? The road. Look for the road. But even that didn¡¯t help too much. The road could be anywhere, considering how I¡¯d blindly fled through the forest with Cup earlier. I had no idea where I was now in relation to that road even before adding in how much it could have wound its way through the forest.


    In the end, I realized I was being stupid. Height. I needed height. At the next tree, I yanked myself to the top, dropped blue paint on the final sturdy branch, and launched upward over the canopy to get a better view of things.


    There. Lights. There were very clear house lights off in the distance. That had to be it. Dark as the forest was, those lights stood out like a beacon. Instantly, I yanked myself to the next tree over and full-on raced that way. I had to get there ahead of the Scions. No matter what happened, no matter what it took, I had to warn Bobby!


    The cabin really was isolated in the middle of nowhere. It was a two-story affair that looked like it had come straight out of some storybook, with a perfectly cut and stacked woodpile on the porch beside the front door, a path leading down to the nearby stream, a cozy little handmade swing, the works. The road went right up to the lot, and I could see fresh tire tracks, but no vehicle.


    Hurriedly, I red-painted myself all the way across the clearing to the front door, knocking on it rapidly while calling, ¡°Mr. Parson! Mr. Parson!¡± Looking over my shoulder, I muttered a curse and then used purple paint to shove the door in. ¡°I¡¯m on your side! You¡¯re in danger, you¨C¡±


    Then I stepped in, and saw no one there. The interior of the cabin was pretty simple, and open enough that it was clear no one was there. There was the main room with a bed in one corner to the left and a living area to the right, with a television, computer on a desk, and an attached kitchenette. Across from the entrance was the bathroom, the door open to reveal that it was as devoid of occupants as the rest of the place.


    He wasn¡¯t here. No one was here. But the lights were on. And there were fresh tire tracks. Quickly, I turned to leave. Then I saw it. A shelf on the wall next to the door, where you might drop your keys, wallet, or whatever was in your pockets. There were no keys on the shelf. Instead, I saw three small objects. Two were toy planes, one an air force jet fighter while the other had started out its life that way but had been painted bright pink with little purple lightning bolts on the wings, and an additional pair of wings that were glued to the bottom of the first. Beside both toy planes was a small action figure.


    I stopped breathing when I saw the toys. My hand covered my mouth and I felt like throwing up. I didn¡¯t know why. I couldn¡¯t¡­ understand why. What was wrong with me? What was wrong with me?! Staring at those toys, my breathing grew louder, more labored. It felt like something was sitting on my chest, like¡­ like I couldn¡¯t breathe. It felt like¡­ I was¡­ cold. I was so cold. I was scared. Why? Why was I so scared? I was even more afraid, in that moment of looking at those toys, than I had been out in those woods. It was a panic attack. I couldn¡¯t breathe, I couldn¡¯t¨Ccouldn¡¯t¨C


    The sound of someone at the door snapped my attention that way. I saw the sackcloth mask. I saw the raised gun. I covered the chest part of my costume in orange paint.


    It didn¡¯t help that much. Whatever that weapon was, it hit me with some kind of invisible force that launched me off the ground. It felt like being kicked in the chest by a horse, even with my orange paint. I was sent flying, crashing hard into the wall before falling to the ground.


    I couldn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t¨Cmy hands wouldn¡¯t¨C


    Pencil kicked me hard in the side, then again to knock me onto my back. He was standing over me, his powerful weapon (it looked like a futuristic shotgun with a spiral-shaped barrel) pointed down at me. ¡°Hurts, doesn¡¯t it?¡± His words were taunting. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be able to move again in a couple minutes.¡±


    I saw the way his eyes narrowed. ¡°Course, you hurt Cup. So you won¡¯t live long enough for that to matter. And this time, kid, no tricks. No games. You hurt my little sister. You hurt my Cup. No one does that.¡±


    That was all he said. That was all he was going to say. He was through playing games, through hamming things up. Through playing, in general. He was just going to pull the trigger¡­ and end me, while I lay completely paralyzed at his feet. After everything I did to escape, after everything I¡¯d done¡­ period, I was helpless. I was trapped. I was alone.


    I was going to d¨C


    And then the window just above my head exploded. A dark shape went flying over me with a terrifying roar, colliding with the weapon in Pencil¡¯s hands before tearing it from his grip. The shape continued on past, sliding across the cabin before whirling back to face us while snarling.


    Holiday. It was the lizard-panther, Holiday.


    In the next second, an explosion of debris was accompanied by a deafening roar, as Mars Bar announced his presence by slamming his way through the front door.


    Just as suddenly, a figure appeared over me. ¡°Hey, asshole!¡± That-A-Way snapped.


    Pack, next to the towering lizard-bear at the front door, finished with, ¡°Get the fuck away from our friend.¡±

 Ready 11-04

    Laying on the floor of Bobby¡¯s cabin, still paralyzed by whatever that thing was that Pencil hit me with, all I could do was watch helplessly as the man looked at That-A-Way, standing over me, and Pack at the door with Mars Bar towering behind her. Holiday the panther-lizard was there too, somewhat between all of us with the paralyzing gun held in her teeth as she snarled angrily.


    No, no, no. What was going to happen now? Why were they here? How did they find us? I knew I should have been grateful to see them, and a big part of me was. Okay, most of me was. But another part was terrified that something bad would happen to the two of them. Paralyzed as I was, I was helpless to do anything to help, which was beyond terrifying. And it wasn¡¯t like Pencil was just some bad guy. He was one of the nastiest Fell-Touched I¡¯d ever heard of. He was immune to basically anything anyone could do. What the hell was going to happen here? How would they actually stop him, considering that entire experienced hero teams had set out to do that and failed, some dying in the attempt?


    That was what scared me the most. It wasn¡¯t suffering and dying right here with Pencil enacting his revenge for hurting his sister. It was being forced to see him do that exact same thing to Pack and That-A-Way. Because they were only here to help me. If they died, it would be because of me. Because I couldn¡¯t handle my own problems. Because I was weak.


    For his part, Pencil didn¡¯t exactly look all that concerned. His gaze took in the panther-lizard  who had stolen his weapon, before moving to look at the others. I could practically see the thoughtful expression on the face behind the mask. When he spoke, his voice was curious. ¡°Now, what exactly could have made the three of you such close friends that you¡¯d come all the way out here like this?¡± He raised a fist to his chin, contemplating. ¡°Oh, was it really that bit at the hospital? Was it? I¡¯m really gonna blush if it turns out I¡¯ve inspired the brand new besties bond you¡¯ve all got.¡± After a second, the man added in a conspiratorial tone, ¡°Really, don¡¯t tell me you two see your pal here as a little brother. Because trust me, we all know where that goes. Him in love with both of you and you not seeing him that way because you¡¯re just such good friends. And no one wants to live through that kind of cliche. It¡¯s 2020, let¡¯s try to move past triangles, people.¡±


    As Pencil said those words, the rage that had been clear in his voice when he had come after me a moment earlier for hurting Cup had been replaced by what sounded like genuine amusement at this new situation. It was like being hit with something this unexpected, instead of pissing him off, actually intrigued him. Apparently he just enjoyed being surprised that much. So much that he forgot about that whole being pissed at me for Cup thing. In any case, whatever was going through his mind right then, I was pretty sure that none of us wanted to know about it.


    ¡°Here¡¯s what¡¯s gonna happen,¡± Pack informed him. Her words were punctuated by matching growls from Mars Bar and Holiday. ¡°I¡¯m going to step out of the way to that side of the door. My big buddy here is gonna step the other way.  Then you are going to walk out of this building and get the hell out of here before this gets any worse. Everyone walks away to fight another day.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± That-A-Way put in, ¡°you can push it and see if being immune to damage helps you very much when it comes to a giant grizzly-lizard sitting on your psychotic fucking ass until the authorities get here. After all,¡± she added, shifting her weight a little, ¡°We don¡¯t actually have to hurt you. We just have to stop you from leaving. I¡¯m pretty sure you don¡¯t have super-strength.¡±


    For a moment, the monster in the mask said nothing. He simply glanced back and forth at all of us, adopting a thoughtful posture before eventually speaking up. ¡°That is a very fine point you raise, young lady. A very fine point indeed. You¡¯re probably right, I¡¯d be¡­ hard-pressed to budge your personal Yogi over there, if push came to shove.¡± He gave a tip of an imaginary hat toward Mars Bar. ¡°And yet, I find myself with one very important question. While your bear is sitting on in this hypothetical scenario, what¡­ precisely would your invisible gorilla-lizard be doing?¡± Even as he said that, the man was abruptly pivoting on one foot with a snapped, ¡°Let¡¯s ask him.¡±


    With those words, Pencil¡¯s hand snapped out. A knife leapt from his sleeve before being driven into what looked like thin air. Thin air that drew a thick line of blood and a squeal of pain.


    ¡°Twinkletoes!¡± Blurting that name, Pack threw herself that way while the formerly invisible figure appeared, a deep gash through his side as he collapsed to the floor, moaning. How had Pencil known he was there? Was it just a guess? How had he known exactly where to aim the knife?


    As Pack lunged to the fallen Twinkletoes¡¯ side, Mars Bar and Holiday leapt to the defense of their partner. With a cabin-shaking roar, the bear went after Pencil like a runaway freight train, while Holiday tossed the gun aside and added her own roar while lunging from the other side.


    Far from being intimidated however, Pencil simply pivoted once more. His foot lashed out in what looked like an awkward, gangly kick. Seriously, I thought he was about to fall over. It was like a clown kicking someone, all wild flailing and no coordination. But despite that, there must have been decent force and skill hidden behind the deceptive appearance, because Holiday was immediately sent crashing to the floor with a yelp from the impact against her nose.


    At the same time, his hand, with the already-bloodied knife held tightly, lashed out and backward. It cut through part of Mars Bar¡¯s descending arm and drew even more blood than the first swipe had drawn from Twinkletoes. Wherever he had hit the lizard-bear must have been important, because the roar turned to a pained squeal and that massive arm fell uselessly against the power-mutated animal¡¯s side, as if the limb was as paralyzed as I actually was.


    The bear¡¯s arm being out of the way gave Pencil room to duck and twist, throwing himself behind the suddenly-stumbling creature. His every motion looked goofy and awkward. It looked like he should fall flat on his face any moment. But I was already certain all of it was an act. He was like a clown or something, his motions purposefully intended to look goofy and uncoordinated while actually being very precise. He clearly had an incredible amount of athletic and combat skill. He was just hiding it behind what looked like bumbling actions.


    Just as that thought came to me, That-A-Way sprang to the aid of the others. Or, she tried to. Suddenly teleporting almost directly behind him and to one side, she produced her stun baton and swung it. Pencil, however, was not taken by surprise. He doubled over backward, almost like he was going through an extreme limbo contest. Laughter, mocking and derisive, erupted from the man as the baton passed just over his head. At the same time, he pressed some kind of hidden button on the knife. Instantly, a cloud of dark red gas shot from a hole at the edge of the knife hilt, right next to the blade itself. The gas went straight into That-A-Way¡¯s face, and she stumbled, squealing and coughing while the baton fell from her grip. Pencil, still bent over backward, caught the falling baton in his free hand, hurling it with what looked like contemptuous ease toward Pack, who was just looking up from Twinkletoes. She took the baton to her chest, yelping and collapsing on top of her gorilla-lizard from the burst of electricity.


    No, no, no! This was exactly what I¡¯d been terrified of. Everything was going wrong. Pack was twitching and yelping on top of the already-injured Twinkletoes. Mars Bar was stumbling, one arm useless. Holiday was still picking herself off the floor. That-A-Way was down, coughing and sputtering while flailing blindly from whatever that gas had done. Everything was going wrong and it was all my fault. They were here because of me, here to help me, and I was too paralyzed to actually do anything to help them. Move, I ordered myself. Move right fucking now!


    Stolen story; please report.


    It didn¡¯t help. Straining as hard as I could, I still couldn¡¯t push past the effect of that stupid weapon. They were going to die, they were going to die and it would be my fault. Damn it, damn it!


    Then, just as my panic and terror hit the breaking point, something totally unexpected happened. The sudden blaring of a car horn from outside filled the air, stopping Pencil in mid-step. At the same time, bright headlights abruptly flared to life, shining in through the window.


    As the sound of the horn was fading, a familiar figure in a black-blue bodysuit with an attached short-sleeved white robe and hood appeared in the doorway. Skip. She stood there, regarding the whole situation seemingly impassively for a moment before addressing Pencil flatly. ¡°By all reports, you are protective of the one called Cup. If so, there is a situation outside that you will be interested in resolving. Unless those reports are wrong, in which case¡­¡± Trailing off, she looked to us, then to Pencil before simply turning her back to him to walk out of the doorway and away from the cabin.


    In that moment, I was pretty sure Pencil completely forgot the rest of us even existed. He went through the door an instant after Skip disappeared, fairly sprinting that way. Because Skip was right. For all his murderous psychotic evil bullshit, he actually genuinely cared about Cup. His sister¡­ his lover¡­ whatever she was, he cared about her. I knew that first-hand.


    I also knew that if he had the chance, he would skin every single one of us alive and watch us spend hours screaming for even insinuating that she could be in danger. This could blow up in all of our faces really easily.


    Pack was back on her feet, hand already outstretched to grab That-A-Way and pull her up. She had Twinkletoes and Mars Bar (newly returned to their normal, uninjured lizard forms) on either shoulder, while Holiday stood guard at the door. Both of the girls were looking at me with obvious worry written through their body language.


    And then, then my constant attempts to start moving finally paid off. My fingers twitched, and a sharp gasp of air escaped me as I jerked upright with a suddenly violent cough. The paralyzing effect was gone. I could move again.


    Just in time for That-A-Way to kick me none-too-gently in the leg with a muttered, ¡°Idiot.¡± Then she turned to run for the broken doorway.


    Pack, meanwhile, grabbed my hand to haul me up. ¡°What she said. But I¡¯ll wait and kick you after we get out of this.¡±


    Quickly, I joined them and the three of us ran out to the porch in time to see Pencil standing about thirty feet away. The man was brightly illuminated by the headlights of a car. Standing next to the car was a figure in dark purple body armor with speakers along the sides and a helmet with a wide V-shaped visor that had multi-colored lines flickering across it.


    Broadway. It was Broadway, another one of Pack and Eits¡¯ teammates.


    Just as we made it to the porch, the headlights turned off and the light inside the car flipped on. That revealed Skip, sitting in the driver¡¯s seat. More important was the figure sitting next to her in the passenger seat, bound and gagged. Cup.


    As soon as he saw her, Pencil took a step that way. But he stopped at a sudden blaring of the car horn when Skip used her free hand to hit it while simultaneously extending a hand through the open window with some kind of large container. She gave it a toss, and it came tumbling across the dirt to land near Pencil. Immediately, I recognized both the look and the smell. Gasoline. It was a mostly-empty gasoline can.


    Broadway gave a kick then, sending another can tumbling over to join the first. ¡°Heya, Fuckface. You see Cup there? The eeeentire inside of that car is totally drenched in that gasoline. You give her any reason to, any reason at all, and Skip is gonna use that lighter she¡¯s got to flame on. Then she¡¯ll drive away. Cuz, you know, the fire won¡¯t affect her. But it¡¯ll sure as hell affect Cup. So she¡¯ll light her on fire and then she¡¯ll drive away. We¡¯ll see how far she gets down the road before the car explodes. Are you a fast runner? Maybe you can get to her before she suffers too much. Maybe you could even do something about the flames. But here¡¯s the thing. Even if you do save her, your lady friend there still gets to suffer horrifically first. Maybe she dies, maybe she doesn¡¯t. But she definitely suffers. And the longer it takes you to get to her, the longer she suffers, the more likely she dies.¡±


    She bent, picking up the end of a rope that was lying there before tossing it over to the man. ¡°So here¡¯s what¡¯s gonna happen. The other end of that rope is tied to the back of the car. Skip¡¯s gonna pull out and start driving slowly down the road. You¡¯re gonna hold the rope and follow until you¡¯re all past the gate. Then she¡¯ll teleport back up here and you can get the lady out of the car. You try to come after any of us first, Cup goes fwoom. You try to get closer to the car than the length of that rope, Cup goes fwoom. You pull anything, Cup goes fwoom. And maybe you can take all of us down. You are magically immune to everything, after all. Maybe we can¡¯t take you. But what you¡¯ve gotta ask yourself is, just how much would Cup suffer in the meantime? Would she even survive? What kinda shape would she be in? Take the rope, follow the car all the way down to the gate. Or push things right now and see how the girl there likes being a superhero for once. Specifically, the Human Torch.¡±


    For a moment, Pencil didn¡¯t say anything or move. He seemed to be studying Broadway as though gauging how serious she was, how likely it was that she and Skip would actually follow through on that threat. I was staring at them too. Jesus Christ, that was hardcore. Not that it was exactly surprising, given the kind of people Pencil and Cup were. If you were going to threaten them, you had to go for the gold. And I was pretty sure the threat being specifically against Cup was the only thing that made the man take it at all seriously. He cared about her. She might be the only thing in the world he did care about. But still. I had to ask myself if they¡¯d really do it. Which, I supposed, was the exact same thing Pencil was asking himself at that point.


    Finally, he turned to look straight at me. His hand rose, giving what looked like a casual wave. But I knew there was far more behind it. He would never let this go, not for any of us. I¡¯d directly pissed him off more than once now. I¡¯d hurt his sister. And now the others had threatened her life, had threatened to kill her in a gruesome, horrific way. All of us had made this personal to him, and he was not going to forget or forgive that. This might be put on pause now, but it wasn¡¯t over.


    ¡°So long, kid,¡± Pencil announced while the eyes behind that mask practically bore a hole straight through me. ¡°I¡¯ll catch you later.¡± And boy did those words have a hell of a lot more meaning behind them than that phrase normally did.


    With that, the man stooped, grabbing the rope. Immediately, the car started up and Skip pulled it around slowly to point it back toward the road before heading out at just high enough speed that Pencil had to lightly jog to keep up. While we all watched in silence, the car and attached psychopath both gradually vanished down the road out of sight.


    Finally, once the car and Pencil were gone, Broadway exhaled audibly and slumped over. ¡°Hoooly shit, dude. Tell you one thing, I am super-fucking glad that didn¡¯t go wrong. I mean, yeah, it still could. But I think we might actually pull this off. Thanks for playing distraction in there while we set things up.¡± She turned to me then, waving. ¡°Hey there, nice to finally meet you, Paintball.¡±


    ¡°I¨C¡± I started to say something, before blanching. Pivoting away from them, I sprinted several feet before collapsing to my knees by some bushes. My hand pried up the mask enough to let me throw up. It all came out in a rush, while Broadway made disconcerted sounds in the background. To their credit, the others all stayed away while my mask was up. All they saw was my back.


    Finally, it was done. My whole body was sore and I was still a bit woozy. Plus my throat hurt from hurling. But there was nothing left for me in my stomach. Awkwardly, I tugged the mask down with one hand, making sure the hidden mic was still in place before pushing myself up and turning.


    That-A-Way and Pack were standing there, arms folded as they looked at me. Broadway was on the other side of the clearing, watching the road.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± That-A-Way asked a bit pensively. ¡°Seriously, are you¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I managed, biting my lip. ¡°I mean, I¡­ they didn¡¯t do anything that bad. He was saving it for later.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Pack put in, sounding relieved, like a sudden weight had lifted from her shoulders. Then she added, ¡°I¡¯d say a lot more, but it¡¯s time to get out of here. We¡¯re supposed to meet Skip on a little service road down the other side of the forest, that way.¡± She pointed off behind the cabin. ¡°There¡¯s another car parked there waiting for us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a hike,¡± That-A-Way noted. ¡°But it shouldn¡¯t be hard.


    ¡°And on the way, you can explain just what the hell is going on.¡±

 Ready 11-05

    To their credit, Pack and That-A-Way didn¡¯t expect me to start talking immediately. They even waited when I asked them to while I went inside and grabbed those toys that I¡¯d seen before. I wasn¡¯t sure why they gave me such a strong emotional reaction, but I did know that I wanted them. So I put the toys in my pocket, then started out of the cabin before pausing. Turning my eyes away from the broken doorway, through which I could see the others waiting, I looked back over the room. Given everything I¡¯d heard and figured out about Robert¨CBobby, I had to assume he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to leave clues about where he could be going when he clearly knew there were some really nasty people after him. When he¡¯d cleared out of this place, even as quick as it had to have been, he wouldn¡¯t have left anything behind that could point to where he was going. Still, just taking off like this without looking closer felt wrong. But we didn¡¯t have a choice. Skip was only going to keep Pencil busy for so long, and if he and his equally psycho sister came back while we were still here, we¡¯d be in the same position we¡¯d been in before. It was time to get the hell out of here.


    So, I headed out, telling the others I was ready to go. Broadway was already gone, apparently making her way through the woods first to give us a little privacy and also to make sure their rendezvous point was clear of any problems. If she ran into trouble, she¡¯d make enough noise to let us know.


    And with that, we started moving quickly through the forest. Pack¡¯s lizard animals were all around us for potential protection and warning, Riddles keeping an eye on things from up above just in case. It was dark enough that the other two were using flashlights they had apparently brought with them.


    After a few minutes of walking, Pack was the first to break the silence, her voice pointed and clearly angry. ¡°So, now that you¡¯re safe and all that, which I¡¯m really glad about, for the record, I¡¯m going to go ahead and call you a stupid fucking jackass, okay? And if you ever pull something stupid like that again, I swear I¡¯ll kick your ass myself. You and me, we¡¯ll throw down and I¡¯ll beat your ass cuz I fight dirty. Never, ever fucking do anything like that again, you got it?¡±


    I cringed through her words. Because she had every right to be angry. Going off by myself had probably been stupid. But what other choice did I really have? I couldn¡¯t tell them everything. I just couldn¡¯t. My family was¡­ it was too complicated, and involving them that directly would just be dangerous. They didn¡¯t deserve to have the weight of all this on their shoulders. At least until I knew more about how my family¡¯s business worked, until I had some idea of how to stop them, I couldn¡¯t offload that responsibility onto other people. And I definitely couldn¡¯t tell them the whole story. That would involve letting them know who I really was, and that¡­ was a bad idea.


    But maybe I could tell them some of it. They deserved to know some, at the very least. Hell, they deserved to know all of it, the whole thing. But I just¡­ couldn¡¯t. That was a box I would never be able to close again once I opened it, a Pandora¡¯s Box that was full of all sorts of dangerous evils that would escape if I wasn¡¯t careful to keep the thing shut absolutely tight.


    Some of it, however¡­ I could explain some of it, the bits that might lead them in the right direction. Exhaling, I started with, ¡°I¨Cthank you. Thanks, guys. Both of you, and Broadway. And Skip too. I don¡¯t know how she got involved, but if it wasn¡¯t for you, I¡¯d be dead. I¨CI¡¯d be dead. No question. You saved my life. I owe you guys. I owe you¨C¡± The words stopped as I choked a little before getting myself under control. ¡°I owe you everything. Definitely more than I can give you right now.


    ¡°But¡­ but I can tell you something. First, I want¡­ I need you to trust me. I need you guys to promise to keep this all secret. All of it. You can¡¯t tell your teammates.¡± I looked to Pack, then That-A-Way. ¡°You can¡¯t tell Blackjack, and you can¡¯t tell the heroes you work with. No one. You can¡¯t tell anyone. Not a single person.¡±


    I saw the way both of them exchanged looks, That-A-Way speaking first. ¡°Excuse me? Okay, I know doing this job can make anyone really paranoid, but seriously? Why wouldn¡¯t you want me to tell the Star-Touched about any of this? I mean, sure, Pack works for bad guys. I can see that, but¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she looked over to see the girl in question clearly squinting at her through her featureless black mask. ¡°Oh, stop, you know what I mean. You work with a lot of bad people. Sure, Blackjack has his reputation for keeping his word or whatever, but that doesn¡¯t make him a good person.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Pack retorted, ¡°and a lot of psychopathic jackasses who get off on legally stomping on people who can¡¯t fight back join up with law enforcement to get their kicks. Having a badge, or whatever equivalent you people get doesn¡¯t automatically make you a moral paragon.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about any of that!¡± I blurted, trying to stop this whole thing from being totally derailed. ¡°I just¨Cit¡¯s personal and I¡¯m hoping you¡¯ll be able to know the whole thing soon enough. But for now, just promise me you¡¯ll keep everything about this secret, please.¡± I tried to stress just how important it was both in my voice (as much as the changer still attached to my ear would convey it) and my stare.


    Again, the two of them exchanged looks. I couldn¡¯t tell what either of them were thinking, or what they were communicating to each other in those looks. But whatever it was, they both seemed to come to the same decision, turning to me with the lights aimed roughly toward one another so I could see them better.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Pack started. ¡°I won¡¯t talk to Blackjack or the others about it. Unless it turns into something I have to talk about. If this starts affecting my people, I¡¯m not gonna lie to them.¡±


    That-A-Way nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, but if it means helping you when you¡¯ve got someone like Pencil pissed off at you? Yeah, fine. Unless it turns into something that we need help with, or like¡­ people are going to die if we don¡¯t call in the big guns, I¡¯ll keep it between us.¡± Her voice softened then. ¡°Come on, Paintball, you almost died back there. You need help. Stop being so stubborn and stupid about this.¡±


    ¡°Ah, little tip, superhero?¡± Pack put in. ¡°People rarely react well to being called stupid.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°I know what she meant. And she¡¯s right, running off on my own like that after I¡­ well, implied to you that I was going to ask for help was really stupid. I didn¡¯t know the Scions were involved, but it was still stupid.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s another thing,¡± That-A-Way pointed out. ¡°If the Scions are involved, do you really think we can keep this quiet? More to the point, do you really think it¡¯s not just as stupid to keep it quiet? If they kill more people just because we didn¡¯t say anything¡­¡±


    ¡°You can definitely tell people then,¡± I immediately agreed. ¡°The second we see Pencil or the other Scions again and they get involved, you can absolutely call in all the help you guys have to stop them. No question. Just¡­ I¡­¡±


    Pack stopped walking then. Stepping in front of me, she turned the flashlight so that it was aimed up between us. ¡°What?¡± the girl demanded. ¡°Damn it, Paintball, you ask Eits for some kind of favor that makes some guys beat the living shit out of him. Those guys turn out to be working for Pencil. Then you lie to me¨Cand don¡¯t you fucking hedge about what you specifically said, you lied and you know it. You lied to me about getting help from Minority-girl over there just so I¡¯d let you run off on your own, got yourself captured and nearly killed by that fucking psycho, and you¡¯re still fucking holding off on us? If we¡¯d caught up with you a minute later, a minute fucking later, you¡¯d be dead! You would be dead, Paintball. So knock it off. Yeah, if we can keep this secret, we will. If it¡¯s the best way. But you need to start talking. You need to explain what the hell is going on, what that cabin was, why the Scions are involved, what that fucking address was supposed to be for, and everything else you can possibly fucking explain about this situation. Because I, for one, am tired of being left in the dark about all this.¡±


    ¡°What she said,¡± That-A-Way put in immediately, ¡°only pretend I said it a little more eloquently and nicely. Right now I¡¯m too mad at you for nearly getting yourself killed to think that straight.¡±


    ¡°I know you guys are upset. You deserve to be,¡± I admitted a bit weakly. ¡°I just¡­ this is harder than you know. I can¡¯t¡­¡± Biting my lip under the mask, I thought about it briefly. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you some of it. I can¡¯t¡­ tell you all of it. I just can¡¯t. Not yet. But I¡¯ll tell you as much as I can.¡±


    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you want to keep secrets after¡­¡± Trailing off as she clearly realized just how little headway she was going to make, That-A-Way settled on simply waving a hand vaguely. ¡°Yeah, yeah. If it¡¯s so important that you can¡¯t talk about everything even after all that¡­ I guess we¡¯ll have to take your word for it. So what can you tell us? How did you get involved in something that involved the Scions, exactly? Can you explain enough about that, at least?¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± I muttered. The truth. They deserved at least as much of the truth as I could manage, as much as I could give them. To that end, I slowly announced, ¡°It started the night I got my powers. When it happened, I was¡­ I saw these guys¡­ execute a couple people in a motel.¡±


    Both of the other girls (and Holiday, who was pacing around us) gave a short doubletake. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± That-A-Way started in disbelief, ¡°you saw what happen? Are you¡­ you¡¯re serious now.¡±


    ¡°Super serious,¡± I confirmed before gesturing. ¡°Come on, we should keep walking. Anyway, the guys saw me, sort of. They didn¡¯t get a good look before I ran away. While I was hiding from them, I got my powers. Then I was¡­ hiding while I heard them talking. I found out they worked for something called the Ministry.¡± I was mixing around the details of when I found out what to leave out my family¡¯s direct connection. I had to do that, for now at least. As I said the name, my gaze snapped from one girl to the other, looking for a hint of recognition in either of them. I saw none. Neither That-A-Way nor Pack seemed to have the slightest clue what that was.


    ¡°What, like some kind of cult thing?¡± the lizard girl demanded while her hand went out to rub along Twinkletoes¡¯s side. The lizard-gorilla seemed fine now after shrinking down and then being returned to his large size once more. The same went for Mars Bar. Something about Pack using her power on them again healed the damage that had been done. Which was a relief.


    Shaking my head, I kept walking in silence for a few seconds before forcing the next words out. This was one of the hardest things I¡¯d ever had to do, just getting myself to say what I needed to say. Pack and That-A-Way may have both been on opposite sides of the law, but they¡¯d put that aside to come and save me. They deserved to know about this. ¡°Look, I know you¡¯re both going to think I¡¯m crazy. I know. But I need you to listen. What I¡¯ve heard about this Ministry, it¡¯s¡­ they¡¯ve got their fingers in both sides. Star-Touched and Fell-Touched. It¡¯s like they work behind the scenes. They¡¯ve got people working for villain groups and people on the heroes¡¯ side too.¡±


    Pack looked at me like she was about to say something, but That-A-Way spoke first, blurting a quick and very baffled, ¡°Bad guys working for the heroes? How hard did Pencil hit you, again?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Pack put in, ¡°that¡¯s bound to make the poor guy want to keep talking about something that he was clearly reluctant to even start on in the first place. Act like he¡¯s crazy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¨C¡± That-A-Way snapped defensively before catching herself. ¡°Damn it, I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± She trailed off, sighing. ¡°Sorry. I guess we should at least hear you out.¡± Even as she said it, however, the girl still sounded reluctant and defensive. Which I couldn¡¯t blame her for.


    ¡°I know, I get it,¡± I quickly assured both of them. ¡°It¡¯s a lot to throw on you guys and expect you to believe any of it instead of just thinking I¡¯m a raving lunatic. Why do you think I didn¡¯t want to actually tell you? Because I know it sounds like crazy bullshit. But seriously. The way they were talking, and other things I¡¯ve heard since then¡­ that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t want to join the Minority.¡±


    ¡°Because you thought we worked for these¡­ Ministry people?¡± That-A-Way was staring at me, almost walking into a tree before Pack reached out, caught her arm, and tugged her away from it. She gave the other girl a quick look, a nod of thanks, then stared at me once more. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know any of you,¡± I pointed out. ¡°And I still don¡¯t know most of you. I mean, look at it this way. Pretend the Ministry is real and you don¡¯t have any doubts. Just for sake of argument. Pretend there really is this secret organization that has agents on all sides, people who report to them. Do you really think they¡¯d put people on the heroes¡¯ side who couldn¡¯t blend in well?¡±


    That-A-Way briefly looked like she wanted to argue with that, but stopped herself. Instead, she was quiet for a minute, walking through the woods with us like she was lost in thought. Finally, I saw her head give a tiny nod. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll¡­ pretend and go with that, I guess. If this Ministry thing worked like you said, they¡¯d be good at putting people in under cover. Maybe even people who really thought they were doing the right thing by reporting stuff to this secret group. Hell, they might not even know that this Ministry works for both sides. Maybe they think they¡¯re reporting to a secret group of Star-Touched people, you know? Like Internal Affairs or something.¡±


    ¡°You mean an even more secret group of heroes inside the group of heroes.¡± Pack snorted. ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right. If a group like Paintball¡¯s talking about existed, they could totally make some do-gooders think they were part of the super-special secret club like that.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s kinda what I mean. Anyway, like I said, this Ministry has people on both sides. From what I can tell, they run some kind of protection racket or something. You know, letting bad guys operate in the city in exchange for part of the money they take in from jobs. I heard them talking about getting the patrol routes for different Star-Touched teams for a higher percentage take, and direct intervention, whatever that entails, in exchange for even more. I¡¯m pretty sure they have at least one person on every hero team to give out patrol routes, hero¡¯s schedules, other things like that. And more on the police force, the court system, all those things. They¡¯ve been around for a long time, you guys. Like I said, they¡¯ve got their fingers in everything. They run things behind the scenes, and they¡¯re really not happy that I know anything about them at all. Except they¡¯re not sure how much I know, if anything.¡±


    ¡°So if what you¡¯re saying¨C¡± Pack corrected herself, ¡°If you¡¯re right about what you think, then Blackjack¡¯s gotta know about this, right?¡±


    ¡°Sure, it sounds like all the big Fell-Touched players in the city know about it,¡± I confirmed. ¡°They work within the system the Ministry created. I¡¯d be fall down shocked if Blackjack wasn¡¯t totally aware of the whole thing. But he¡¯s not gonna tell a brand new member of his group that kind of secret.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not sure about this,¡± That-A-Way admitted. ¡°But I¡¯ll keep going along the hypothetical ¡®this is all true¡¯ route for now. That said, what does that have to do with Pencil and the Scions? Or that cabin?¡±


    This was the big one. Even bigger than getting them to believe the bit about the Ministry. I had to be careful how I explained this. ¡°I followed some of those Ministry guys the other day when they kidnapped a girl and tried to kill her. Apparently she had some kind of secret information or proof about the Ministry or something. Anyway, I saved her and she ran away. Then I found her later and listened to her talking to¡­ umm¡­ someone on the phone. She called him her dad, but¡­¡± I shook that off. ¡°Anyway, the point is, there was something about the girl and her dad wanting revenge against the Ministry for someone named Anthony Tate. I looked into it. He¡¯s a kid who used to live here, then moved to Texas and died in a car crash. Supposedly.¡± Ohhh this was getting so close to secrets I really shouldn¡¯t talk about. The thought made me cringe inwardly.


    That-A-Way spoke up into the brief silence. ¡°Okay, wait, wait. Who¡¯s this girl? And that Anthony Tate, who¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, a kid who used to live here before he supposedly died in a car crash with his parents in Texas.¡± I offered a shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know how he was connected to that girl¡­ umm, Paige Banners.¡±


    That-A-Way dropped her flashlight and tripped over a rock, cursing as she almost fell. It took her a moment to scramble across the ground to find the light. ¡°What¨Cwho?¡±


    ¡°Paige Banners,¡± I repeated. ¡°She¡¯s the girl I saved, I found out her name later. That¡¯s one of the names I had Eits look into,¡± I admitted to Pack. ¡°I thought her dad lived here, but apparently she¡¯s like¡­ adopted or something? I don¡¯t know. Point is, she was on the phone with someone she called her father, and they were talking about getting revenge for that kid dying or¡­ something. Anyway, Eits looked into it, found out this guy Robert Parson was a bodyguard or something. He was in the car with the Tates too, but he survived. So we were looking for his address. That¡¯s the address you got from him, the one those assholes wanted. I guess Pencil and his people got the address from Eits¡¯ phone, cuz they got to that place too.¡±


    ¡°But what did they want with this guy?¡± That-A-Way demanded. She sounded like she really needed to sit down. Which was another thing I could definitely sympathize with.


    ¡°I guess he pissed Pencil off somehow,¡± I replied, shrugging once more. ¡°I really don¡¯t know the details. All I know is Pencil wants this guy dead, so he¡¯s in hiding. Which means I can¡¯t get answers out of him about this Ministry, or Anthony Tate, or this Paige girl.¡±


    That-A-Way was silent for a few long seconds, staring ahead as though deep in thought. Finally, she exhaled long and loud. ¡°This is a lot to take in, dude. I don¡¯t¨C¡± She cut herself off from whatever she had been about to say, correcting it to, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what to¡­ say, you know? If I¡¯ve got this right, you¡¯re claiming that there¡¯s a secret underground group that manipulates heroes and villains everywhere in the city, and that this random schoolgirl, whatever her name¨C¡±


    ¡°Paige Banners,¡± I reminded her.


    ¡°Right, Paige Banners,¡± she nodded. ¡°This Paige Banners and her dad, who isn¡¯t the dad who lives here in town with her because she¡¯s adopted or something, are coming up with some secret plan to attack and hurt the Ministry as payback for this Anthony Tate dying. You looked into Anthony Tate, found this Robert Parson guy, went to his address, and got jumped by Pencil, who is also after him?¡±


    ¡°And the Scions also beat the shit out of Eits to get that address,¡± Pack quickly put in.


    ¡°Yeah, and Eits got hurt,¡± That-A-Way acknowledged, turning to shine her light at me. ¡°Is that about it?¡± Her voice was a bit dull from the shock of taking all of this in.


    ¡°Ummm¡­¡± I winced. ¡°Did I mention that it sounded like that girl¡¯s real dad is in Breakwater?¡±


    ¡°Breakwater,¡± That-A-Way echoed. ¡°The inescapable supervillain prison. He¡¯s just¡­ calling out of that.¡± She stopped walking, putting one hand against her face with a long, heavy sigh.


    ¡°This is kinda why I didn¡¯t want to dump all this on you guys,¡± I managed a bit weakly.


    ¡°I get that,¡± she murmured, finally moving her hand to look at me. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know how much of this is true¨Cokay, hold on. What I mean is, I believe you believe what you¡¯re saying, but I don¡¯t know how much power this Ministry actually has. But, I¡¯ll keep quiet about it for now. I want to¡­ investigate it for myself, okay? I¡¯ll do it quietly, I swear. I won¡¯t bring up the actual name or anything. I just want to find out more.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± Pack agreed. ¡°I¡¯m morbidly curious about these people. Especially if part of my money is going to them.¡±


    After a moment of hesitation, I slowly offered, ¡°Well, if you guys really want to find out more about this group for yourselves¡­


    ¡°I know a pretty interesting secret about the mall.¡±

 Ready 11-06

    We met up with Skip and Broadway shortly after that, so I promised Pack and That-A-Way that I would talk to them about the whole mall thing later. I was tired, sore, mentally exhausted, and really just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep for about a million years. But I was also terrified about what was going to happen when I got home. It was late, and my phones completely didn¡¯t work so I had no idea if my parents had noticed me being gone for so long. If they¡¯d been trying to get hold of me, if they¡¯d panicked and called the cops¡­ this could get complicated. And I was so done with everything right then, I was afraid of what I might say.


    The car that Skip showed up in was actually a van. Apparently she¡¯d damaged the Scions¡¯ car enough to leave it undriveable and then abandoned them. Given his immunity to practically anything, there was no way that she could keep Pencil contained long enough to try to call in the authorities. Especially with Cup there and the possibility that they had called in other Scion reinforcements at some point in all of that. The best thing to do was to get out of there while we could. None of us wanted to take the risk of Pencil getting the upper hand again. He¡¯d almost managed it even with all of us there and Skip¡¯s own selective immunities.


    Besides, I was just¡­ again, exhausted. Falling into my seat in the van, I let my head rest against the window while listening to That-A-Way telling Skip what road to take to get out of there, and to Broadway saying something about how she would watch for anyone behind us.


    The next thing I knew, the side door of the van was being slid open and we were in a brightly lit area. I jerked awake, heart thudding its way through a Lars Ulrich drum solo while I looked around wildly, instant panic making me imagine any number of horrible scenarios just then.


    That-A-Way was right there, hand on my arm while she quickly assured me, ¡°It¡¯s okay. It¡¯s alright, Paintball. Hey.¡± Moving a bit, she gestured to show me that we were just in some kind of illuminated parking garage. ¡°We¡¯re back in Detroit, it¡¯s okay. You¡¯re safe.¡± Pausing to look at me, the other girl looked for a moment like she was going to say something important. In the end, however, she just carefully asked, ¡°Are you okay? You were¡­ you were shifting around a lot.¡±


    Flinching at the thought of what I could have mumbled, considering the state I was in, I gave a short nod. It took a second to come down off my panic-high, but I finally found my voice. ¡°Y-yeah, I¡¯m good. I¡¯m fine. I mean I¡¯m not fine, but I¡¯ll get over it. You¡­¡± Biting my lip, I looked to her. ¡°You guys really saved me. I would¡¯ve been dead without you. I would have died.¡± Just saying that out loud, even now that I was safe and totally out of that situation, made my heart beat faster while my throat went dry. The memory of Pencil pointing that weapon at me¡­ I shook a bit, shoving the thought down into the basement of my mind before locking the door.


    That-A-Way gave me what I knew was a practiced reassuring smile, the kind she used for making civilians feel better about a situation without scaring them. ¡°I¡¯m just glad we were there,¡± she informed me, before her eyes narrowed. ¡°And as soon as you feel better, I¡¯m hitting you again. Don¡¯t you ever do that, got it? I will not be used as an excuse to let you go off on your own and get yourself killed. If you do, I¡¯ll find a way to bring you back just to kick your ass.¡±


    Quickly, I held up both hands in surrender. ¡°I know, I know. It was stupid. In my defense, I had no idea that the Scions were involved at all. I wouldn¡¯t have¨Cyeah, I know. It was still stupid. I¡¯m sorry. I just didn¡¯t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I didn¡¯t want to be¨Cow.¡± The last bit was because That-A-Way put her hand out to flick my forehead with one finger. It hurt.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t do it again,¡± she flatly insisted. ¡°You need help, ask for it. That¡¯s why I gave you my number in the first place.¡± Pausing briefly, the girl added in a slightly more subdued voice. ¡°Seriously, Paintball, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay. I don¡¯t know what¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°Just don¡¯t be that stupid anymore. I really don¡¯t want to find out you got yourself killed after all this. Especially if that thing you were talking about¡­¡± Stopping herself, she gestured. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go.¡±


    Sliding out of the van after her, I looked around. We were, sure enough, in one of the parking garages downtown. I could see Skip off in the distance, wearing a backpack over one shoulder and talking to what looked like a security guard while Pack and Broadway stood off the other way next to the former¡¯s cage full of lizards. As soon as Pack saw me get out of the van, she approached, leaving her teammate with the cage. ¡°Good,¡± she started, ¡°you¡¯re awake. So what are we gonna do about everything you said?¡± Lowering her voice to being barely audible, she added, ¡°Cuz I don¡¯t know about Compass-Power here, but I really wanna know more. Especially if it involves my team.¡±


    ¡°And my team,¡± That-A-Way agreed, arms folded. ¡°But we can¡¯t really talk about it right now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s not time,¡± I pointed out after stifling a yawn. ¡°My parents are already¨C¡± Cutting that off quickly, I blanched before settling on, ¡°I¡¯ll meet both of you later this week, I promise. Just let me recover from all this and we¡¯ll talk about what I know. We¡¯ll figure something out. Especially about that¡­ thing I mentioned with the mall.¡± Saying those last few words mostly under my breath, I gestured. ¡°But seriously, like I said, don¡¯t tell anyone.¡± I looked to That-A-Way. ¡°No one on your team, none of the adult heroes. Not even the leaders. Not Caishen, not Brumal, and especially not Silversmith.¡±


    That-A-Way was squinting at me. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®especially not Silversmith?¡¯ He¡¯s not¡­ no.¡±


    I met her gaze intently. ¡°I¡¯ll explain more later, I swear. Just¡­ just don¡¯t do anything you can¡¯t take back. Telling anyone about this is gonna open a box that none of us can close again. The more people who know about it, the worse it¡¯ll be. Later we can figure out who to trust, but right now, just¡­. don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And especially not Silversmith,¡± That-A-Way repeated pointedly, her gaze still locked on me.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I murmured, ¡°especially not Silversmith. Like I said, I¡¯ll tell you more later. I just can¡¯t deal with this right now. Don¡¯t talk to anyone about it. Please. This is just a lot to put out there right now.¡± Looking to Pack, I added, ¡°Check on Eits for me? Make sure he¡¯s still getting better. And I¡¯m sorry about¡­ about everything.¡±


    Pack promised to do so, before Skip approached. The Ten Towers Touched spoke in that same eerily calm voice of hers that actually helped calm me down, all things considered. ¡°Steven won¡¯t tell anyone we were here. I trust him to be discreet, he has been very helpful before.¡± Looking to me, she added, ¡°How are your injuries? Will you be able to make it home?¡±


    Everything hurt, that was for sure. But the fact that I was alive and in one piece right then after everything that happened was honestly such a freaking miracle that it felt like I could¡¯ve danced home. Okay, not really. Ow. Still, I¡¯d get home. I didn¡¯t really have much of a choice, even if the idea of trying to explain to my parents where I¡¯d been was terrifying. ¡°I¡¯ll make it,¡± I confirmed.


    We said a few more things. I thanked all of them for going the extra however-many-miles to save my stupid life from Pencil. Then I left them. We all separated, and I headed out of the parking garage and out onto the street. Honestly, right then the last thing that I wanted to do was start jumping and running around. But I had to get back home, and first I needed to get to the place I¡¯d stored my clothes on the way over to see Pack and Eits in the first place.


    Despite what I¡¯d said about being okay, I was limping as I left the garage. Fuck. Shit. That hurt. Everything hurt. Getting knocked out by whatever that dart had been was bad enough, but the chase through the woods, getting hit with whatever that gun had been? That was rough. If I hadn¡¯t had my orange paint on when that gun hit me the first time, what kind of shape would I be in now? Would I even be alive? I definitely wouldn¡¯t be walking like this.


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    Then again, the only reason I was even still here at all was because of Pack and the others. The four of them had gone out of their way to save my life. The fact that Pack and That-A-Way had put aside any differences they had to save me was enough on its own, but I barely knew Skip. I¡¯d exchanged a few words with her, that was it. And I didn¡¯t know Broadway at all. She was there because of Pack, of course. But still. The four of them had totally saved my ass. Without them, I wouldn¡¯t be alive. I¡¯d be dead. Dead. The thought kept reverberating throughout my mind while I used a bit of red paint to yank myself up to a roof so I could get out of sight.


    Dead. Without them, I would have been dead. Pencil would have killed me. Everything I¡¯d done, and absolutely none of it would have mattered anymore because I¡¯d just be¡­ gone forever. I was only alive because other people had come to save me. People who I still didn¡¯t trust with all my secrets. Or even most of them.


    Was I resisting telling anyone the truth about myself and my family to protect them, or to protect myself? Or worse, to protect my family. Was I so against letting anyone know what my family was because I was still keeping their secrets? Was I somehow instinctively still siding with my family even as I outwardly sided against them?


    Those thoughts bothered me as I walked across the roof. My hand was rubbing my chest where I had been hit. One of my ribs felt really bad, making me flinch and wince when I touched that spot. It did, at least, distract me from all those troubling thoughts about my motivations.


    Taking a breath, I used blue paint to launch myself out toward the next building. And I instantly regretted it. A shooting rush of pain went through my side and leg, and I basically ended up falling in a heap on the next roof, sprawling out gracelessly before curling into a ball with a groan of pain. Owwww.


    Right, this might have been worse than I thought. I really needed to get home, but running and jumping just wasn¡¯t going to cut it. So, instead, I just used red paint to pull myself from roof to roof and orange paint to ensure that I didn¡¯t land too roughly. Even simple landings that I never would have used the orange paint for any other time needed it. I was basically limping from roof to roof just to get to the spot where I had hidden my clothes. That was all I needed. I would change clothes and then call for an Uber.


    Wait. Call. My phones were both busted as far as getting a signal went. Sighing hard when that thought popped into my head as I hit another roof, I stumbled and half bent over. Nausea welled up in me and I had to fight the urge to throw up or pass out. Or both. After catching my breath, I took out both phones to check them again. Sure enough, still no signal. I was in the middle of town and yet there was no signal. Pencil had definitely not been exaggerating about what his little toy had done.


    Okay, still not the end of the world. I would change clothes and then use the phone at a gas station or something. I¡¯d get a ride home and come up with some kind of excuse for how late I was if it came down to it. Considering it was about four in the morning at that point, I was relatively terrified about how my parents would react if they actually knew I wasn¡¯t in bed.


    At least I had a couple people to help me with the mall problem. I¡¯d had no idea how I was going to get into that secret underground place to find anything else out by myself. But with That-A-Way and Pack, maybe we could actually pull it off. And maybe I would actually manage to think of how much I could tell them. I¡¯d already taken several huge risks with all that and they had come through every time. Pack had come to save me even when she was mad about Eits. She risked her life and the lives of her beloved lizards to save me. That-A-Way had willingly worked with villains to come help me. At what point was I just going to trust them with all of this, with the whole story? What was wrong with me? Part of it, of course, was genuinely wanting to protect them from the things my family could do. But by this point, how much of that was just an excuse? And who was I protecting more, them or my family? I was kind of afraid of what the answer to that actually was.


    Finally, I reached my hidden bag and looked around to make sure things looked clear before starting to change. And damn was that just the worst clothes changing experience of my life. Everything hurt so much. Just lifting my leg to put it into the hole of my jeans made me practically whimper. It felt like I was contorting myself into a pretzel simply by pushing my arms through the sleeves of my shirt and jacket. And I had to do it quickly, because the absolute cherry on the top of this shit day would have been someone spotting me standing on the roof in my underwear and bra.


    Hiding the bag with my costume once more, because I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to risk taking it home when I didn¡¯t know what the situation there was, I got myself to the ground. After managing that without dying somehow, I did one thing with my personal phone to help sell any story I came up with before walking out to look for a phone to use. Thankfully, the guy in the nearby gas station didn¡¯t raise too much of a fuss, and I was able to call a taxi. Then, while waiting for it, I noticed a guy skating past. An idea popped into my head, so I quickly flagged him down before offering him a hundred bucks for the board and another fifty for his helmet. He took it and, once he was gone, I stepped into the alley and slammed the board against the wall a couple times until I managed to almost snap one set of wheels off. I hit the helmet a few times too.


    Giving the driver instructions to an address a short distance away from my house, I slumped into the seat and exhaled while trying to think of a story I could tell that might actually help.


    Once again, I fell asleep almost immediately. The next thing I knew, the driver in front was clearing his throat and trying to politely wake me up. When my eyes opened, he nodded. ¡°All set.¡± Pausing then, he added, ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay, kid? You look like someone threw you into a blender.¡±


    Somehow, I managed a slight smile while paying him. ¡°Just need to sleep.¡±


    He gave me a thumbs up while I was getting out. ¡°Well, you get on home and take a nap, son.¡±


    Son. Yeah. Because that was really what I needed right then. Mumbling something that I didn¡¯t even follow myself, I shut the door and shoved my hands into the jacket pockets before walking off. Son. Boy. God dammit. Yes, I had much worse problems than that. That was basically a pebble in my shoe compared to everything else. And yet, it hit me at just the wrong time. I was tired and sore and so much else had happened. Dropping my head as I shuffled along, I forced back the tears. No, they weren¡¯t tears from what he had said. I¡¯d been mistaken for a boy plenty of times. So many people thought I was a rather pretty thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy instead of a sixteen-year-old girl that it should not even have registered anymore.


    No, the tears were mostly about everything. Getting captured, nearly dying, seeing that picture and realizing that the dead boy had obviously been a friend of mine, all of it. Even the fact that I¡¯d clearly missed Bobby by just minutes and now had no idea where else he could be contributed. All of it contributed, until I could barely keep the tears shoved down where they belong. God dammit, I was a girl, but I wasn¡¯t some little baby. I was not going to start sobbing again. Not now. I was going to suck it the fuck up and keep going.


    On the plus side, I was very quickly distracted from any thought of crying. On the negative side, that distraction came because I turned the corner and saw both of my parents standing out on the front walk past the security gate. There was a uniformed police officer and several people in suits standing with them. All of them were in the midst of a really intense conversation.


    A brief thought popped into my head that I should try to eavesdrop. But I just stood there, too tired and sore to do anything else by that point aside from dropping the skateboard and helmet off to the side on the grass. Spying could come later.


    Mom was the first to see me. She glanced away from the man she was clearly giving orders to, spotted me, and let out a loud, startled gasp. I saw the men turn, hands going quickly to what were obviously their weapons, while my dad looked up as well.


    Then they moved, and just like that, both of my parents were right in front of me. Dad had me wrapped in a tight embrace that he immediately released when I yelped. Mom, who looked as though she was about to pull me to her, came up short at that, her eyes widening. ¡°Cassidy?¡± As she said my name, her hand went out to gently touch my face with trembling fingers. It was like she was convincing herself I was really there. Dad had one hand on the side of my head, I could see his chin quivering a little before he got himself under control. It was clear that both of them were barely holding themselves in any sort of order. And the only reason they hadn¡¯t already crushed me was that quick yelp when Dad had tried the first time.


    ¡°Cassie,¡± Dad started then, his voice cracking a bit. ¡°Are you okay? What happened? Where have you been? You never came home after dinner, and¡­ and you didn¡¯t answer your phone.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Cassidy,¡± Mom agreed, looking as though she was torn between hugging me until I couldn¡¯t breathe or choking me to achieve the latter effect immediately.


    ¡°What happened to you?¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 2 - SPHERE Online Forum

    The following is a commissioned interlude focusing on a look at the most popular online web forum for discussions about Touched, known as Sphere. It is written in the format as though one were reading the forum itself from the point of view of one character in particular.


    Welcome, Gepetto¡¯s Lad (click here to log-out) to the Summus Proelium HERE forums, or SPHERE. It has been (three hours sixteen minutes) since your previous log-in, and there have been (0/Zero) rule clarifications or updates and (1/One) administrator announcement. Click here to read them, and be aware that the system will not allow you to post any replies or make any new topics until you click the button at the bottom of any announcement(s) and rule update(s) acknowledging you have read and understand them.


    [][][][][][]


    <> Topic ¡ª Update On Relief Efforts For The Collision Point In Salt Lake City (Boards ¨C Announcements ¨C Current Announcements)


    Razoev (Administrator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on April 4, 2020:


    On behalf of all of the Sphere administrative and moderating team, I¡¯d like to thank every last one of you who has already donated to support the efforts to repair the damages and provide food, water, and medical treatment to the several hundred people who were injured during the recent Collision Point in Salt Lake City last week, as well as sadly, support for the families of the forty-nine who were killed. At this point, we¡¯ve raised a little over eighty-seven thousand dollars in the span of only seven days since the event itself. That¡¯s incredible! Thank you all so much. Your efforts put us ahead of schedule for our goal of providing one hundred thousand dollars in the first two weeks. But remember, every little bit helps and while the Collision in Salt Lake wasn¡¯t as bad as some, there¡¯s still a lot that needs to be done to take care of all the people and families who were affected.


    So let¡¯s pitch in a bit more and try to get to two hundred thousand in two weeks! That¡¯s a bit of a stretch, but we can make it happen. Sphere has more than that many active members, so if every one of you donates only one dollar, we¡¯ll blow past that goal. Donate two dollars and we¡¯ll obliterate it. Also, Sickstalker promised to do another round of show tunes in a livestream this time if we pass the new goal, and who wants to miss that?


    Remember, all proceeds beyond what are needed for this situation will be added to a general Collision Point relief fund, so your donations will never be unwanted. You can click here to reach the direct donation page (remember to put Sphere in the referral space) or here to see a list of other related charities you can donate to if you¡¯d like to choose your own.


    As an announcement, this thread will be closed. But you can discuss everything revolving around the Salt Lake CP in the appropriate thread here.


    Thank you all so much, and just be good to one another. Because the Abyssals sure won¡¯t.


    ¡ª¡ª¨C


    Click here to acknowledge that you have read and understand this announcement. This thread has been closed to further replies. You will be unable to post new replies or topics until this announcement has been acknowledged.


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    <> Topic ¡ª La Casa Thread Twenty-Seven (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Villains)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on July 10th, 2019:


    Time for another fresh thread, now that the other one was locked down thanks to a few people who didn¡¯t know how to follow the rules against trying to guess Touched public identities. Remember, those discussions are not allowed anywhere on Sphere. You could put Star-Touched or their families in danger, and Fell-Touched could react badly to even an attempt to out them. Not to mention, a lot of information that people use for those efforts comes from when Fell-Touched cooperate with authorities to assist in Collision Points, and they might just stop doing that if it leads to people attempting to reveal their identities. Sphere does not allow that kind of discussion.


    Anyway, use this thread to discuss the Detroit-Based villain team known as La Casa, founded and currently led by the Fell-Touched known as Blackjack. Everything about their membership, powers, altercations, crimes, etc should be relegated to this thread.


    The archive of previous discussion threads can be found here, and the Sphere-Wiki entry for the gang is here.


    (Showing page 196 of 197, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> StarOfImps


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    @Tzon Yeah, it¡¯s definitely safe to say she turns lizards into other animals considering no zoo has reported a bear, gorilla, or a panther missing. Monkey or eagle might be more easily missed, but I¡¯m pretty sure those first three tend to be noticed. Besides, it makes more sense from a hiding and deployment perspective if she shrinks them back down into normal lizards. I haven¡¯t seen anything about a huge moving van (or whatever else it might take to move those kind of animals around regularly) near all these appearances.


    Does anyone remember what she¡¯s called them? I think the bear is Snickers and the gorilla is Twinkletoes. Others ???? How long do you guys think it¡¯ll be before she adds in another one? And what¡¯ll it be, lizard and combined animal?


    ¡ª> Tzon


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    Sorry, I think we were talking past each other. You¡¯re right, Pack definitely turns regular lizards into other animals. It¡¯s the only thing that makes sense. Except maybe manifesting them out of nothing, but the fact that they¡¯re ¡®lizard-like versions of other animals¡¯ makes me pretty sure it¡¯s the former.


    Anyway, I wasn¡¯t questioning that. I was asking if anyone thinks she has to touch or look at the animals she wants to turn her lizards into. That¡¯s something she might be able to do at the zoo. Especially with someone like Blackjack behind her. You know he¡¯s got the pull to get a zookeeper or whatever to look the other way while someone visits the animals. And needing to touch the animal she wants to turn a lizard into would be a pretty normal limitation. I wonder if the Stars and Shields are looking into that. Not to stray into ¡®theorizing on people¡¯s identities¡¯ territory (sorry mods), just wondering if maybe they¡¯ve upped security or something to stop her from expanding her arsenal, as it were.


    As far as Pack adding to her menagerie, I wonder what kind of limit she has. I mean, I doubt she could just make unlimited numbers.


    (Edit) Oh and I don¡¯t think the bear is Snickers. That doesn¡¯t sound right. I think the panther is Christmas.


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    I¡¯d like to know more about Broadway. Her armour costume¡¯s pretty awesome. Does anyone else think Blackjack might¡¯ve outsourced to Braintrust for it and that there¡¯s a few surprises still hidden in there for anyone who thinks they¡¯re safe from her sound power? Or Eights maybe. He¡¯s got a techy power, right?


    ¡ª> VotMoon


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    @StarOfImps and @Tzon Pack¡¯s bear is called Mars Bar, you just had the wrong candy. And the panther is Holiday, not Christmas.


    Personally, I¡¯m pretty sure she does have to touch the right animals. That power is just way too OP otherwise. What¡¯s to stop her from combining a lizard with a dinosaur or something? Or even more terrifying, a moose!


    I hope the next lizard-animal she adds is another flier. The eagle needs a wingman. Or maybe something like a wolf.


    ¡ª> OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    @Flaboran No way is Blackjack contracting costume work out to Braintrust. They don¡¯t get along. Something about him yoinking one of their people a couple years ago. Some guy from my old Alma Mater used to minion for them. Couldn¡¯t believe it when I saw him on the news, but yeah. There¡¯s an interview with him about the Braintrust thing right here. Besides, Blackjack can afford to have his own Tech-Touched employees, even if they¡¯re not the kind who run around in costumes being obvious about it. Not all of them do, you know. Lots of Touched just stay as private as they can and use their powers more secretly than that.


    But anyway, what kind of supersoldier do people think he¡¯s trying to make with those vials now that he¡¯s got them back?


    ¡ª> Dehny


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    He¡¯s not trying to make a supersoldier. The vials were medicine for someone suffering from Rot Bone. Probably his wife or child. Or some other family member. Someone he cared enough to go to war with a bunch of other gangs for. You should check the thread for that. Try page thirty-seven through thirty-nine for the best info from a few Shields who were around.


    As for Pack, maybe she can only have so many of her lizards active at a time? I know we¡¯ve seen a lot of different ones, but have we seen all of them up together in the same situation? I can¡¯t remember.


    ¡ª> FullBass


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Wait someone remind me what a Shield is. I thought it was another word for Star-Touched??? But Tzon said ¡®Stars and Shields¡¯.


    Oh and all glory to the orbs! Our orb leaders will guide us through these troubled times! Hail!


    ¡ª> SpeakerOfFables


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    @FullBass Shield means cop or anyone like them. FBI, ATF, any non-Touched law enforcement. Stars and Shields means ¡®Star-Touched and police¡¯


    @Flaboran I think Eights has some kind of ¡®control computers¡¯ power, nothing about building them. Though I suppose he could just be keeping that in reserve or being subtle. But I¡¯m fairly certain he¡¯s a technopath, not a Tech-Touched. He controls technology, he doesn¡¯t build it.


    ¡ª> BrightGold


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    So is Eight¡¯s full name Crazy Eights? That¡¯s the gambling thing he went with? What does that have to do with his power?


    Oh, and if he¡¯s really a technopath, I imagine Braintrust doesn¡¯t want any of their equipment anywhere near him. Wait, who do you think would win, Eights or Braintrust leader? Doesn¡¯t Glitch have some kind of manipulating technology power? Or is the whole ¡®glitch¡¯ thing just about breaking them.


    ¡ª> MarsSpider


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    @BrightGold It¡¯s just about breaking them, I think. I mean, her whole Tech-Touched shtick is improving other people¡¯s tech, yeah. But she also has some kind of Field-Touched power to make tech screw up or just not work at all while she¡¯s around if she doesn¡¯t want it to. She fixes and she breaks, she fixes and she breaks. :D


    Point is, she doesn¡¯t really manipulate it like that, she just makes it not work right. Or knows how to improve it. I think she might copy Tech-Touched designs or something too, not sure.


    End of Page. 1, 2, u¡­ 195, 196, 197


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    <> Topic ¡ª Gangwar! (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    Constructicon (Original Poster)


    Posted on March 25, 2020:


    Okay, to consolidate everything we know from the fifteen other threads that popped up about this in various places, let¡¯s go over the basics.


    1: For several hours last night there were a series of incursions throughout the area of the city the Fell-Gang known as La Casa claims as theirs. These incursions/attacks were performed by members of the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro gangs, who appeared to be allied.


    2: No territory seems to have changed hands (though an unknown amount of resources/supplies were destroyed and/or looted), as the incursions themselves appear to have primarily been distractions.


    3: The primary situation these incursions were intended to distract from appears to have been an altercation at the Huey¡¯s Grocery on Park West.


    4: The Huey¡¯s altercation centered around the retrieval of certain medical vials stolen from La Casa at some point (Edit: they were probably stolen during the bank robbery a few weeks ago, but the bank denies it). The Star-Touched known as Paintball possessed the vials as well as the original thief and was located inside the Huey¡¯s.


    5: Members of both Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners attempted to forcibly retrieve the vials from Paintball. He resisted and was assisted by the Minority and members of La Casa (including Blackjack), whom the Star-Touched appeared to have formed a temporary truce with to allow the medical vials to be returned to their owner. Reports of the reasoning vary and stray too much into rumor to get into here.


    6: The altercation at the grocery store eventually spread to surrounding neighborhoods, as Oscuro-leader Cu¨¦lebre left the scene with at least one vial. He was chased by Paintball (yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds) and appeared to be chasing someone else in turn (possibly more vials).


    7: Paintball managed to take back the vial that Cu¨¦lebre had and was in turn chased through the city. See that footage from several different cell and security cameras put together here (the second time that¡¯s happened, see the original video of the first time here and the Yakety Sax remix here). At some point, Paintball evaded Cu¨¦lebre, who then engaged with Silversmith. See footage of their fight here).


    8: At the end of the night, La Casa were allowed to leave with their stolen property. Many arrests were made, but none were Touched, as all Fell-Touched were extracted by the Ninety-Niner known as Longhaul.


    Those are the main points of what we know right now. I tried to verify things as much as possible and avoid reaching too far into conjecture.


    (Showing page 32 of 32, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> One22Eighteen


    Replied on April 2, 2020


    Do you guys really think Blackjack¡¯s got some sick mom or whatever he¡¯s trying to save with those vials? Cuz I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s using them to beef a few of his soldiers up. Come on, what kind of medicine out there is gonna make people go through a whole gang war over it? I bet those vials turn whoever drinks them into Steve Rogers-like supersoldiers. Five of ¡®em? Or however many there were? That¡¯d be a huge boost for whatever group used those.


    ¡ª> Obscurist


    Replied on April 2, 2020


    @One22Eighteen Not that any gang would object to having a bunch of supersoldiers, but I¡¯ve seen way too many people saying the vials were medicine either for Blackjacks¡¯ child or wife to discount all of them just like that. I think the potential benefit of holding that kind of medicine over Blackjack¡¯s head, particularly for a terminal case as people have said, is enough incentive to drive Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners to those lengths. No reason to reach further for a motive.


    ¡ª> Mach3


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    What I still wanna know is how Blackjack convinced Paintball and the Minority to work with him through all that. Hell, even the older Star-Touched just let La Casa leave in the end. Isn¡¯t that kinda weird? I mean Paintball maybe. We don¡¯t know much about him or his whole deal (I¡¯m still on Team He¡¯s A Sapient Comic Book until something better comes along), so being talked into helping one of the bad guys with a sob story makes sense. But what about the rest of them?


    ¡ª> Ravenjoy


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    The Minority are still teens too, they could¡¯ve been talked into siding with Blackjack. And frankly, bad guy or not, if he really was using that medicine to save his kid or whoever then all the more power to them. There¡¯s other days for focusing on bringing him and his people in, not one where someone¡¯s life is at stake. Especially if it was his kid.


    And the fact that the adults honored the truce later would seem to imply that it was for a good reason, wouldn¡¯t it? Sure, they¡¯re all tight-lipped now, but read between the lines. They accepted the truce and let Blackjack and his people leave. No way they do that without solid reasoning.


    I think the better question here is why isn¡¯t Paintball joining the Minority yet if he¡¯s okay with working alongside them? And why aren¡¯t they pushing the issue more? This kid¡¯s like twelve and he¡¯s already pissed off Cu¨¦lebre twice. At this point, the Conservators or Spartans might need to take him into protective custody.


    ¡ª> RobertR


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Paintball should totally join the Minority, they¡¯re the best place for him. I mean not every teen Touched (is it me or is that a weird phrase I mean it¡¯s the right one but IDK) is on the Minority but it feels like Paintball should be on there cuz he¡¯s worked with them already before so why wouldn¡¯t he want to join them I don¡¯t understand. I¡¯m confused, has the Minority stopped taking new people?


    ¡ª> HiddenAxiom


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Probably a good idea to keep the strictly Paintball talk to his thread, @RobertR. But for the Minority, I don¡¯t think they ever stop taking new people. I mean, it¡¯s not like they¡¯re that large now, right?


    But to be on-topic, does anyone else think the whole temporary truce thing might be a way of trying to lure Touched like Pack and Eights away? Sure, they¡¯re Fell, but not like that kind of Fell. They¡¯re still young, you could totally put them on some kind of probation. Eights and Pack and even Broadway, they¡¯re all new. They¡¯d make really good additions to the Minority.


    Okay, that and I think Broadway and Wobble would make awesome armor buddies. And powers! She makes soundwaves and he makes like¡­ vibrations or whatever. They could totally do some kind of power combo!


    ¡ª> Darth01110


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Does anyone think Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners might keep working together? Sure they¡¯ve got totally different membership reqs (Latino vs having family living here before 2000) but still. Especially given how much they obvs pissed off Blackjack. They might need to team up for survival once he turns to start attacking them.


    ¡ª> GuruOfZeal


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    I don¡¯t know, La Casa¡¯s good but if Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners teamed up would Blackjack really have a chance? I feel like they¡¯d need to team up with someone too. But who? Not Braintrust. As @OnceWereWarriors pointed out in the La Casa thread here, they don¡¯t get along. But one of the others maybe? How¡¯s Blackjack with plants? Okay, maybe Easy Eights? Oh damn, does anyone think this is escalating into a big war between the main four Fell-Gangs (Oscuro and Ninety-Niners vs La Casa and Easy Eights)?


    ¡ª> 98Pontiac


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Maybe. Easy Eights hate Oscuro, remember? They were eight little gangs that had to join up and work together because Cu¨¦lebre almost smashed them into pieces. I can see them taking the chance to get back at him and his gang by working with Blackjack.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 30, 31, 32


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    <> Topic ¡ª Paintball (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Individual Touched Discussion)


    Berryonalake (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on March 9, 2020:


    There¡¯s been a few different sightings of him now, so here¡¯s an official thread for the newest Touched in Detroit. As soon as there¡¯s a known name for him, the title will be fixed (edit: there we go, apparently it¡¯s Paintball). But for now, feel free to discuss him, his powers, what he gets up to, whether he¡¯s going to join a team, whatever. Just keep things civilized and remember this is an obviously underaged Touched we¡¯re talking about. I already had to banhammer three different people in the That-A-Way thread between last night and this morning.


    (Showing page 56 of 59, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> MostAmazingFinalGuiderOfCults


    Replied on April 2, 2020


    Look, I¡¯m telling you guys, Paintball came out just as Starfade disappeared from the Steelwards in Indiana. What¡¯s the difference between their powers? Starfade made light that made people stronger, faster, whatever. Paintball makes paint that does stuff. Obviously, some kind of Tech-Touched device deaged Starfade and changed his power a little bit. Now he¡¯s posing as Paintball to get close to Braintrust and find a way to restore his real age and size. No way does some brand new Touched just stumble into all this stuff. He¡¯s obviously experienced.


    I¡¯m saying it right here and now, Paintball = Starfade.


    ¡ª> SirAnthonyWatcher


    Replied on April 2, 2020


    Dudes he¡¯s right. I met Paintball earlier and he said he needs our help getting a meeting with Braintrust does anyone have their phone number lol?


    No but for real, Paintball¡¯s totally Caishen¡¯s lost son she had when she was still a teenager. It makes perfect sense though, like his paint makes stuff faster and slower and stronger and stuff and her power changes the value of things to make them faster and slower and stronger and stuff. I bet his dad is Silversmith. That makes sense, right? Smith sprays his silver stuff everywhere and shapes it and stuff and Paintball sprays paint.


    Edit: No wait I¡¯m totally wrong! Lucent¡¯s his father!


    ¡ª> Cthuwood


    Replied on April 2, 2020


    Lucent¡¯s a bird, man. Sure he¡¯s Touched so just as smart as a human, but how¡¯s a raven gonna have a human kid?


    ¡ª> SirAnthonyWatcher


    Replied on April 2, 2020


    That¡¯s why Paintball always wears a helmet! To hide his birdlike face with the beak!


    Show us the beak, Paintball, show us the beak!


    ¡ª> Gepetto¡¯s Lad (You)


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    Paintball isn¡¯t Fumikage Tokoyami, come on. Granted, that would be cool. But he¡¯s not.


    ¡ª> IcebirdLives


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    Well that¡¯s mean, Gepetto. Why do you think Paintball isn¡¯t cool?


    ¡ª> Gepetto¡¯s Lad (You)


    Replied on April 3, 2020


    What? No, crap. I just meant he¡¯s not Tokoyami, not¨Che¡¯s cool. I mean I assume he is. He¡¯s never done anything to make me think he¡¯s not.


    ¡ª> Dungeon-N-Doing


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    @Gepetto¡¯s Lad You never showed up at the RP server last night, dude. Everything okay?


    On Paintball, does anyone know exactly how many different paints we¡¯ve seen and what they all do? Red is the pulling one and blue is the one he uses to jump real high, right?


    ¡ª> Gepetto¡¯s Lad (You)


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    @Dungeon-N-Doing Sorry, had an emergency and couldn¡¯t get out of it. Hope you guys managed without me and that I don¡¯t have to roll up a new character again! *heavy sigh*


    Anyway, for the paint thing, purple is strength, orange is toughness, black makes things quiet, white makes a bright flash, green makes things fast, yellow makes them slow. With red and blue, that¡¯s it, right?


    Edit: Wait, no, I think he¡¯s used pink before. What the hell does the pink paint do?


    ¡ª> March


    Replied on April 4, 2020


    Watcher¡¯s right, the pink paint hides the beak! Show us the beak, Paintball!


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 55, 56, 57, 58, 59


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    <> Private Messages From RingAroundARosie:


    RingAroundARosie: You got the ball back though?


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: I had a little help, but yeah. Sort of¡­ took it from his office.


    RingAroundARosie: I think I¡¯m supposed to tell you that stealing is bad, but it was yours. Sorry your rents are so wrong. You think they¡¯ll ever come around?


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: I¡¯m not holding my breath. But that¡¯s okay. I¡¯ve got my own family now.


    RingAroundARosie: Just don¡¯t miss game night again without dropping some kind of warning in the chat. I¡¯m the one who does that. ;)


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: True, flaking at the last second is kind of your thing, haha. But you guys were ok last night?


    RingAroundARosie: It¡¯s cool, Dynn kind of controlled Lloword for you. Hope that was okay. He kept you alive, anyway.


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: Good! I¡¯d hate to be dead.


    RingAroundARosie: But you¡¯re seriously ok? It¡¯s not like you to just disappear without any warning at all. One second you were in the chat, then nothing.


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: Sorry. I had issues. But what about that history project you were working on? You guys went with Laura Cereta, right?


    RingAroundARosie: Yup, presented it and everything. Thanks for pointing me to her before. But don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice you change the subject about whether you were ok or not.


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: No worries, I got your back, in and out of game. ^_^ And believe me, I just need a little rest. I¡¯ll be good for game next week.


    RingAroundARosie: Better be, we¡¯re hitting the third tower and god knows that¡¯s gonna be a nightmare. We need Lloword in top shape.


    Gepetto¡¯s Lad: Thanks, Rosie


    RingAroundARosie: (New Message) Hey, we¡¯re friends.

 Ready 11-07

    At one point when I was younger, before I was even in high school, Simon had told me that the best way to tell a lie was to make it one that still made you look bad. Basically, if you wanted someone to believe the lie, you couldn¡¯t make yourself come out looking perfect. The best lies, according to my brother, were the ones that made the person telling them look at least somewhat in the wrong or bad. You could avoid telling the very damaging truth by telling a less damaging lie. But never try to get off scot-free. That just made people suspicious. People tended to believe you when you confessed to doing something wrong.


    Of course, these days I knew just why my brother was such a connoisseur of lying. But it was still sound advice, nonetheless. Even if the thought of what kind of things he¡¯d needed to hide from me at the time made my stomach turn itself into knots and brought bile to my throat.


    Ignoring that, I focused on the advice itself. I¡¯d been thinking about what lie I was going to tell my parents the whole time that I was on my way home, and preparing for it. Sure, I¡¯d hoped I could get into the house without my absence being noted, but hoping for the best and preparing for the worst was a good motto. So, I¡¯d rehearsed what I could say if this moment actually came, and here it was.


    Shifting and fidgeting on my feet like a little kid who was afraid of getting in trouble, but also scared in general (an easy role to play, given the circumstances), I rubbed my hand against my arm. ¡°I umm¡­ I was just¡­¡± Swallowing, I peeked up at the two of them, quickly blurting, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I know it was stupid and everything. But I really wanted to try and I thought I could do it and it¡¯d look really cool but then I screwed up and it hurt and I didn¡¯t mean to stay out so long but¨C¡± I made sure to ramble almost but not quite incoherently, as though I was trying to tell the story from three or four different points and jumbling everything together. It would sound far less rehearsed that way. Which was the exact reason why I¡¯d thought up what I would claim happened without rehearsing specifics. I was pretty sure that was my only chance to make it work.


    Mom quickly shook her head, moving her hands to my shoulders while kneeling right there in front of me. ¡°Principessa, we¡¯re not angry with you. My beautiful girl, we were afraid. We were so afraid. We¡­¡± She hesitated, exchanging a brief look with my father before looking back to me, her voice that same gentle, caring tone that made it so hard for me to see her as this merciless, evil supervillain. ¡°Just tell us where you¡¯ve been. We¡¯ve had the police look for you, we had Simon¨Coh dear, call Simon.¡± She added that last bit with a nod toward Dad. ¡°We asked the Jacksons if they¡¯d heard from you. No one had. No one knew where you were.¡± Her voice was trembling a bit, and I immediately felt guilty about making my mother that upset. Which¡­ was a weird feeling, given what I knew about them. What about all the people she¡¯d upset?


    Still, I had to press on. So, I gave them the story that I¡¯d come up with to explain my absence, in a halting, nervous, almost shell-shocked voice. ¡°I was skating out where they¡¯re building that water park on the north-west end of town. You know, the one that umm, the one that¡¯s been on hold with all that union stuff or whatever?¡± I knew damn well they knew which one I meant, considering my father was one of the financers for that particular development. I¡¯d heard the two of them talking about it a few times here and there. From what I knew, they weren¡¯t exactly happy about the delays. Which made me worry about the people who were opposing it.


    Sure enough, my parents exchanged brief looks before Dad nodded. ¡°Yes, we know it. And we also know that that¡¯s not the north-west part of town, that¡¯s out of town. A couple miles out of town.¡±


    Cringing a little (again, not a hard thing to fake), I nodded. ¡°Yeah, I¡­ I took an Uber out there. They dropped me off.¡±


    Dad was squinting at me with narrowed eyes, finally starting to get over his initial relief that I was in one piece. ¡°You had them drop you off to skate in a construction zone outside of the city? Cassidy, you¡­¡± He exhaled. ¡°Didn¡¯t we talk about skating in established areas? And being safe. I swear the words ¡®be safe¡¯ have come out of my mouth.¡±


    Wincing visibly under their stares, I nodded and squirmed before reaching down to grab the skateboard with the partially broken wheel that I¡¯d bought from that guy while waiting for my cab. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry, I just really thought it looked cool. You know, there¡¯s all kinds of equipment and partially filled pool foundations, the cement pieces where the slides are supposed to go, stuff like that. It was empty and quiet, so I thought I could just skate around for awhile and clear my head. I just¡­ wanted to try it. I¡¯m sorry, it was stupid.¡±


    Mom¡¯s mouth opened, and the way her expression twisted just a little made me think she was going to yell at me. In the end, however, she caught herself, hissing out a wordless sound of annoyance and distress instead. A few long seconds of that passed before she managed to form a coherent response. ¡°Cassidy Sofia Evans, do you have any idea how¨Cwhat¡­ What happened?¡± She finally settled on the last bit after Dad put a hand gently on her back.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I managed, turning the skateboard over so they could see the broken wheel. Then I leaned over to pick up the dented helmet. ¡°I was skating and then I dropped down into one of the pool foundations and¡­ and the wheel snapped or something. I just¡­ I just laid there for awhile. It hurt. Then I got up and tried to call for a ride, but¡­¡± After a moment of hesitation, I showed them the phone that I had smashed. ¡°I had to walk back to the city. I used the phone at a gas station to call for a ride once I was close enough, but¡­ but it takes a lot longer to walk back than driving, and that development is way out there so I was kinda going through the middle of nowhere.¡±


    Biting my lip hard, I glanced up to look at them with an added, ¡°I¡¯m really sorry. I know it was dumb, I just didn¡¯t think it would be that bad. I was¡­¡± My face twisted a little as I repeated, even more weakly, ¡°I¡¯m really sorry.¡±


    My parents didn¡¯t respond at first. Dad just brushed his hand over my hair, staring at the helmet and the board in my hands while looking almost like he wanted to snap both in half. Finally, he exhaled sharply. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s all? You had an accident, broke your phone, and had to walk back to the city?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± Mom started incredulously, looking at him like he¡¯d just transformed into a green and purple bunny before hopping around on a pogo stick.


    Dad, in turn, gave her a brief, silent look. I wasn¡¯t supposed to know what he was saying with it, but I did. He was reminding my mother that there were far worse situations I could have been in, given the things they were into. He¡¯d clearly thought up all sorts of nasty things that could¡¯ve happened to me. So getting this (hopefully believable) answer that I¡¯d just been a dumb kid and hurt myself actually was a relief.


    Once they¡¯d exchanged those looks, Dad looked at me. ¡°Are you okay?¡± His voice cracked just a little as he asked that, clearly remembering the way I¡¯d yelped when he tried to hug me, his fingers very gingerly feeling along my head for a knot or a bruise.


    Wincing a little when he did that, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m okay, I swear. I¡¯m bruised and everything, but I can remember my name. I remember what day it is, what the president¡¯s name is, our address, all that stuff. I can say the alphabet backwards even though I think that¡¯s more a drunk test than a damaged brain test. I¡¯m okay. Nothing¡¯s broken.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re still calling Dr. Roev to examine you,¡± Mom declared. She gave me a look when I started to protest. ¡°We are calling Dr. Roev, end of discussion. He¡¯ll tell us if you need to go to the hospital. And then we¡¯ll go from there. Don¡¯t argue, you¡¯re already in trouble, young lady. Big trouble.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Dad agreed. ¡°We know grounding doesn¡¯t exactly hold much weight. Not with your room being everything it is, the two of us being so busy, and everything else. And you¡¯re sixteen years old, you shouldn¡¯t need to be grounded. But how¡¯s this? A one month extension onto getting your car. That means instead of getting a car and driving as soon as you get your license, now you wait one month past that.¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Wow. Not so long ago, getting my licence and my car had been basically everything in the world to me. Now, the reminder that it would be coming up fairly soon was actually surprising. Of course, I still wanted to drive. I wanted my own car and now I was being told that I would have to wait a full month longer than I was supposed to. If things had still been normal for me, that one month extension would have been one of the worst possible (still reasonable) punishments my parents could give me. But in the wake of everything, it just seemed like such small potatoes.


    Still, I had to play it up, so I made my expression fall as if that crushed me. ¡°Whaaat? But I¨C¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Mom quickly cut me off, putting a finger to my lips. ¡°No arguing. Not now. Not¡­¡± Trailing off, she leaned in to hug me as tightly as she dared. ¡°Oh, my beautiful girl. You¡¯re okay. You¡¯re safe. Grazie a Dio.¡± Her voice was shaking just a bit before she straightened and took my hand to lead me to the gate. ¡°Come, we¡¯ll call Dr. Roev and make sure you¡¯re actually safe.¡±


    Unfortunately, there still wasn¡¯t much I could do to argue about that idea. If I pushed too hard not to have the doctor examine me, I¡¯d just make them more suspicious again. Thankfully, they were having him come to check me out and not going into the hospital for a full-on battery of tests. I¡¯d just have to be satisfied that they weren¡¯t doing blood work or anything like that.


    Dad stayed back to say something to the police officer and the guys in suits. I just assumed that all of them were on my family¡¯s payroll. They¡¯d probably been mobilizing to find out if any of their (our?) enemies had actually grabbed me. Which made me wonder briefly what they¡¯d actually do if that ever happened. Actually, what would I do? Would I find a way to escape from someone who knew me as Cassidy without revealing my powers? Or would I wait to be rescued?


    On our way up the long walk toward the house, Mom was quiet at first before finally asking me in a gentle voice, ¡°Do you¡­ resent having another girl around right now?¡± When I looked at her, she put a hand on my shoulder to squeeze, expression worried. ¡°If having Izzy here is upsetting you, if it makes you feel as though you can¡¯t be here and have to go out to have privacy¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡± My eyes widened and I quickly shook my head. ¡°No! No, that¡¯s not it at all, I swear. I like having Izzy around. Seriously, don¡¯t¨Cdon¡¯t send her away or anything. I promise, that¡¯s not it. I mean it¡¯s nothing. There¡¯s nothing to be ¡®it.¡¯ I just thought it¡¯d be cool to practice my skating in a place like that. You know, with all those huge empty pools and ramps and stuff. I thought I could try some new tricks out there, that¡¯s all. I thought it¡¯d be fun.¡±


    Only after I¡¯d said all that did I have the thought that telling them I didn¡¯t want Izzy around might have been the better way to go for the girl herself. It might¡¯ve gotten her out of this place and over to¡­ to¡­ where? I still didn¡¯t know what that exact situation was or why she was here. If my parents had her here because they were protecting her from some other enemy of theirs or¡­ something, having her sent away was worse than having her here. God, this was complicated.


    Mom¡¯s eyes studied me for a moment through that, clearly trying to see if I was hiding some deep-seated resentment of the girl they had taken in. Finally, she gave a short nod, her expression softening considerably as she touched the side of my face once more. ¡°My beautiful girl. If there is anything you ever want to talk about, anything at all, you can come to me. Or to your father. We love you, Cassidy. Tell us if you need anything, do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mom,¡± I quietly agreed, shifting a little on my feet before adding, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to make you worry so much. I won¡¯t go skating in a place where no one can find me like that again.¡± And I was really hoping I wouldn¡¯t end up in a situation where I needed another excuse for disappearing for hours (or even longer) again. Because if it did, I was pretty sure I¡¯d end up chained to my bedroom or something, which might make being Paintball somewhat harder to pull off.


    We made it inside, Dad joining us at the door after giving his instructions to the men. Once there, we went to the kitchen and my parents insisted that I eat something while we waited for the doctor. So, I had a sandwich. Then another one. I was actually famished after everything that had happened. Having actual food in my stomach made me feel a bit better, though I was still worried about what the doctor would say. All I could do was hope that he wouldn¡¯t find anything that completely blew my entire story out the window. If he did, I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d do.


    For the moment, all I could do was sit there, eat my sandwiches, and wait to see what happened. Throughout all that, Mom and Dad asked me questions about how I felt, where it hurt most, how tired I was, and more. Part of me wondered how much of that was them reassuring themselves that I was here and safe, and how much was them wanting to keep me awake until that doctor of theirs could give me that full check-up. Probably equal parts of both, really.


    Finally, Dr. Roev showed up. He was a tall guy, almost six and a half feet, with pale skin dotted with freckles, a cheerful face with bright red cheeks, and a full head of bushy brown hair. He asked me to stand up, used his little penlight thing on my eyes while asking me to look various directions, checked my heart rate with his stethoscope, felt along my ribs, and used some kind of Tech-Touched imaging device along my head to check for any concussion or brain bleeding or whatever. He also used the same imaging device along my chest to check for broken bones or internal bleeding there, all while having me talk to him. First it was just about what happened, then about myself. He wanted me to tell him my favorite movies, books, what games I liked to play, about people I knew at school, things like that.


    Finally, the doctor straightened and addressed both me and my parents. ¡°No concussions. She¡¯s lucky. She¡¯s clearly taken a bit of a head injury, but she should be okay there. Looks like she cracked a couple ribs and has a lot of bruising. Whatever she hit impacted the most right about here.¡± He indicated the left side of my sternum, where it hurt the most. ¡°Ice it, get plenty of sleep, and make sure you take a really deep breath and let it out, or cough really hard at least once an hour while you¡¯re awake. When you¡¯re lying down, if you sleep on your side, lay on the injured one. I know, I know, that sounds odd. But lay on your injured side so you can breathe better. Don¡¯t tape it up or anything, that¡¯s bad. Just ice it now and then and make sure you take some ibuprofen or something for the pain. Don¡¯t try to be a hero.¡±


    Oh, now he told me that last part. I managed a short nod. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Any time, kid.¡± He winked at me before turning to my parents. ¡°She¡¯ll be okay other than that. Make sure those ribs heal properly. I¡¯d give it a few weeks before she does anything too strenuous again, just to be on the safe side.¡±


    Dad ruffled my hair, saying something about how I would never be skating by myself in a vacant development again. Then he escorted the doctor to the door while Mom stayed with me. She asked me how I was feeling, then told me to get some sleep and that no one would bother me. Which sounded great to me. All I wanted to do was fall down and stay unconscious for a few weeks. A few hours would have to be enough.


    When Dad came back, he had Simon with him. My brother gave me a hug, called me an idiot, and then Mom told him to take me up to bed. I resisted the impulse to argue that I didn¡¯t need an escort. Instead, I hugged both my parents, promised repeatedly never to do anything that stupid again, and went with Simon. On the way, we grabbed a bottle of heavy-duty pain meds.


    Once we were upstairs, Simon shook his head at me. ¡°You know, if you pull something like that again, Mom and Dad are gonna duct tape you to a chair and just have me wheel you to school. Which is gonna suck, cuz I¡¯ve got my own shit to take care of. So don¡¯t put me through that.¡±


    Flushing a bit despite myself, I nudged him with my foot. ¡°Thanks, Simon. Love you too.¡±


    He left me there, and I checked on Izzy next door. She was asleep in her bed, so I went back to my own room, downed a couple Ibuprofen without bothering to turn the lights on, and then sighed while flopping down onto my bed.


    Ow, that was a mistake. There were things in my pockets. Reaching down, I tugged out those two toy planes and the action figure. I¡¯d shoved them in there while changing clothes without even thinking about it. Now, I pulled them out before blinking a bit. In the dark like this, a bit on each toy was glowing. It was glow-in-the-dark paint. Just a little bit on each toy, enough for two small numbers. On the action figure was a six and a two. On the normal fighter jet was a three and a nine, and on the alien-painted fighter was a four and a weird, yet somehow familiar symbol. It looked like a capital E with a diagonal line from the right end of the top horizontal line down to the inside of the bottom corner, crossing through the middle horizontal line on its way. I knew that symbol, but I couldn¡¯t remember from what. I had seen it before, and recently, but¡­ where? Six, two, three, nine, four, and then a weird symbol. It was a combination or a code, or something like that.


    But¡­ a code for what? And why was that crossed through E symbol so familiar? I knew I¡¯d seen it recently. But where?

 Interlude 11A - Deicide

    For years by this point, Austen Deleon had had one main goal in her life. There were other, smaller goals, of course. Primarily revolving around gaining more power and never being helpless again. But throughout all of that there had been one above all the others. That goal was to see her father, the man who had abandoned her mother and herself when she was a baby, dead. The same man who had eventually become Cu¨¦lebre, leader of the Oscuro Fell-gang.


    If he had been some normal man, Austen would have killed him already. It was his abandonment that had even led her mother to become mired and trapped in that evil cult of religious whack jobs. What her mother had become, what Austen herself had been put through before getting her powers, all of it, every bit of it, was because of him. She would see him dead no matter what that took. The fact that he was so powerful, both in himself and in the army that he controlled, didn¡¯t matter. Not in the long run. It made things more difficult, but she would still kill him, someday. She just had to be smarter about it, more patient.


    Part of being patient meant playing her role not only as the leader of the Easy Eights gang in the form of Deicide, but also as a low-ranking young pickpocket member of Oscuro itself. As far as anyone there was concerned, Austen was just a teenager with no powers who hung around and contributed by stealing things here and there and occasionally providing information she heard.


    Some of that information was actually good, and had led to Oscuro hitting a couple decent scores. Nothing that would have stood out too much. Nothing that would have drawn the eye of her true father. She didn¡¯t want to rock the boat, or make him pay attention to her until it was far too late. She simply provided just enough information that would make her an established and fairly trusted member of the gang¡¯s lower levels. She fit in there. She was one of them, as far as they were concerned.


    They had no idea what her true intentions were. No idea that she spent night after night imagining the light finally leaving her father¡¯s eyes as she paid him back for destroying her mother, leaving her the broken shell of a woman who barely acknowledged Austen¡¯s existence now that she had literally killed the man Laia herself had seen as a god, as the God.


    Most of the time, Austen¡¯s mother hated her now. There were a few times here and there when Laia would speak to her normally if the girl visited. But for the most part, she and the rest of her cultist¡­ ¡®friends¡¯ saw Austen as what amounted to the antichrist, or something to that effect. They didn¡¯t attack her or anything. They were too terrified of her to do that. Or, more to the point, afraid of the demon that protected her.


    Yeah. Austen¡¯s mother and the others were convinced that it had been some kind of demon controlling those books and papers that had possessed Austen herself and killed their leader. None of them actually knew much about what was going on in the rest of the world. They didn¡¯t know that anyone called Deicide even existed. They lived on their farm, hated outsiders, and waited for their true God to be reborn.


    It was really sad, and part of Austen still wanted to simply grab her mother and drag her out of there. She had hoped that with the death of that religious fuckjob, Laia would wake up. But she hadn¡¯t. If anything, her mother and those around her had actually doubled down on their insane beliefs. That this was all a test, that there was no way the demon who had ¡®possessed¡¯ Austen could possibly have actually killed their leader for good. They believed he would be back, and that as long as they were faithful, ignored the outside world, and kept his home clean and prepared, they would be saved from his righteous vengeance when he finally appeared and struck down the unfaithful and yadda yadda.


    Austen knew her mother was too far gone now. She knew that at best, the woman needed professional help. Help that Austen herself couldn¡¯t hope to provide, or force on her. But she still hoped, somewhere deep in herself, that killing the man who had abandoned the two of them might somehow wake Laia up so she could be Austen¡¯s mom again.


    She missed her mother. She loathed the men who had destroyed her. Both the man who had called himself ¡®Jesus¡¯ and the one who now called himself Cu¨¦lebre. One of them had paid the ultimate price already, and the other¡­ the other would get what was coming to him.


    Toward that end, Austen had decided that it was time to put a plan in motion thanks to Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s recent mistake. Specifically, his decision to team up with the Ninety-Niners in attacking La Casa while Blackjack was desperately trying to save his own daughter. Doing that, pushing the La Casa leader that far while he was focused on finding the vials that would save his child¡¯s life, gave Austen the opening she¡¯d always wanted. An opening to make an ally who could help her destroy Oscuro, and leave her father vulnerable.


    It was that immediate goal of turning Blackjack into the ally she needed to finally kill her father that had led Austen to where she currently was. Specifically, in an apartment next to a window overlooking an alley. The window was cracked open, allowing the girl to peek out through the darkness to see the white figure of her paper-formed armor far below. To outsiders, it would appear as though Deicide was standing in that alley. But the armor itself was almost completely empty, save for a camera positioned inside its ¡®head¡¯ that was transmitting its image to a monitor in the room, and its audio to a single earbud she wore. As she had many other times, Austen would control the empty ¡®costume¡¯ remotely, using her power to manipulate the paper armor and make it seem as though someone was actually inside it. There were also three other cameras set up nearby. One was inside the nearby dumpster and pointed behind the armor to see the mouth of the alley. Another was hidden in a higher window opposite the one where Austen hid, pointed down to get a bird¡¯s-eye view of things. The last one was high up on a nearby taller building and pointed down to take in the roofs of the buildings on either side of the alley. All four cameras, counting the one inside the suit, sent their views to separate sections of the monitor that Austen was watching. Between those and her own in-person view from this window, she could keep track of everything that was happening.


    Movement in the camera watching the roofs drew her attention that way in time to see five figures moving closer. Three were simply ordinary Prev members of La Casa, armored and heavily armed non-Touched troops who took up a position at the edge of the roof. The other two were Cardsharp, the Touched who could alter the physical properties of herself or anything she touched, and Double Down, the guy who stored any kinetic force that hit him and turned it to his own use.


    None of the five approached any closer than the edge of the roof. They took up their positions and waited, clearly ready to jump in if something went wrong in the next few minutes. Austen considered for a moment, but decided to do nothing to indicate that she knew they were there. She did, however, make the armor that was supposed to be her shift its weight a bit, glancing around now and then to make it seem more realistic. Not that she was planning on doing anything untoward right now. This meeting was far too important. But she also didn¡¯t want anyone to realize that she wasn¡¯t necessarily always in the armor they were talking to.


    On the roof, Cardsharp waited a full minute before taking out her phone and saying something to it. As soon as she did, headlights appeared down the street, visible in the view of the camera hidden in the dumpster. A car that had been parked started up, pulling to the mouth of the alley. Austen turned the Deicide armor to look that way, just as a man stepped out of the backseat of that car. A man who wore a perfectly tailored suit of black slacks, a black shirt, dark bolo tie with a red gem at the collar, intensely polished black leather shoes, gold gloves, and a white duster coat. He also wore a black helmet with a gold mask, on which was the etched shape of a face.


    Blackjack. Leader of La Casa, and the man she was waiting for. He glanced briefly one way, then the other down the street before approaching a few steps. ¡°Deicide,¡± the man greeted her simply, ¡°a little bird informed me that you wanted to have a bit of a chat. And that it would be worth my while.¡± He paused briefly before adding pointedly, ¡°Should I ask where your lieutenants are?¡±


    In response, Austen focused on making several books that had been sitting atop the nearby dumpster fly up to surround her ¡®costume.¡¯ The pages of the books flipped rapidly, landing on pages to highlight specific words or sentences, which were then spoken aloud in a feminine voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The books flipped fast enough that the words came with little pause between them, about as fast as a normal person talking (if punctuated by the sound of flipping pages). ¡°Should I, in turn, ask where your own reinforcements are waiting? Or should we proceed with the reason for this meeting, absent further posturing or unimportant queries?¡±


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    For a moment, Blackjack didn¡¯t respond. He seemed to be studying her, his gaze intent on the paper mask behind which lay the camera that Austen was using to watch him. Finally, he gave a very slight nod. ¡°I am curious as to what you could possibly have called this meeting for, I must admit. Is this related to that favor I owe you, by any chance?¡±


    In response, Austen made the empty armor fold its arms, the books flipping rapidly to project her answer. ¡°First, congratulations are in order for your successful retrieval of your property.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t see his face (not the real one, anyway) behind the one etched onto the golden mask. But Austen could hear the smile in his voice even through the earbud. ¡°It hasn¡¯t escaped my notice that your organization was absent from any attempt to retrieve that property for yourselves,¡± he noted. ¡°And as I said, I do still owe you for the return of that single vial. If this is about monetary compensation¡­¡± Even as he said it, his voice made it clear that he was very doubtful about that.


    ¡°It is not about monetary compensation,¡± Austen confirmed. Of course the man knew that, but they still had to play the game, still had to do that little dance. ¡°The favor I ask will actually be as helpful for you as it is for me. So it should not be a hard thing to agree with.¡±


    If Blackjack had any idea what she was going to ask, the man didn¡¯t show it. He simply stood silent, watching and waiting for her to go on. He was as patient as a rock, apparently content to wait as long as it took. Nor did he do anything to acknowledge or note the presence of his people on the roof, who were waiting and watching as well. Austen had no doubt there were others her cameras had not yet picked up, probably keeping an eye out for her own troops.


    She continued. ¡°Your true enemies now, the ones who fought so hard to keep you from your property or to steal it for themselves, are Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners. And they know that they are your biggest targets now. They have formed a pact to defend one another from any of your incursions. Either are very strong on their own. Together, they represent too much of a threat for you to exact the vengeance you deserve.¡±


    ¡°And if I understand your intentions here,¡± Blackjack casually noted, ¡°You believe that if our two organizations were to¡­ ally as theirs have, we would be more of a match for them.¡± He paused pointedly, letting his moment of silence fill the air before continuing, ¡°Some would say that I seem to come out entirely ahead in such an agreement, particularly considering I already owe you for the return of my property. Here you¡¯re offering to ally your group with mine, allowing me to exact payment from those who have wronged me. Where, precisely, does what you get out of this potential alliance come in?¡±


    Obviously, Austen couldn¡¯t and wouldn¡¯t exactly tell the man that killing Cu¨¦lebre was all the payment she needed. Beyond not wanting to give that much of her own secrets away, the rest of the Easy Eights would never stand for it. They hated Oscuro and their leader as well and always had, ever since his power forced the eight separate, smaller gangs to band together for survival in the first place. But they also had their own goals, and wanted their own rewards. All of Austen¡¯s troops (none of whom knew they actually worked for a sixteen-year-old girl) were ready to fight Oscuro, but only if they would actually get something out of it. She was their leader, but asking them to fight for nothing wouldn¡¯t exactly turn out well.


    To that end, the girl replied through her books, ¡°In exchange for assisting you in exacting your revenge upon the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro, my people will receive control of all the property and territory stolen from them when Cu¨¦lebre began expanding his gang, as well as half of the property our groups attain from the Ninety-Niners. In addition, you will pay all taxes to the Ministry that arise from this endeavor. And sign a Ministry-backed non-hostility agreement for two years.¡±


    That last bit was a separate service the Ministry provided. Groups or individuals who signed one of their non-hostility contracts were agreeing that neither of them would attack or do anything to hinder or hurt the other. If they did, the offending person or party would face punishment from the Ministry themselves that included both monetary sanctions as well as possible expulsion from the city. It had happened before. One did not make an agreement with the Ministry and then break that agreement. There was a reason they could enforce their taxes and still keep themselves so private. No one knew just how many Touched they employed, or what the limits of their influence over law enforcement was. But the answer to  both questions was simply, ¡®enough.¡¯ They had enough Touched and enough control over the cops, the judges, even the Star-Touched teams themselves, to make life incredibly difficult for anyone who crossed them.


    If it came down to it, the Ministry would invoke what they referred to as Plan Z, a powerful and mysterious Touched assassin who literally went by the name of Z. Her power apparently gave her the ability to not only become intangible, like a ghost, but also allowed her to delay the effects of everything she did while in that state. Anything this Plan Z did while intangible, from kicking a rock to shoving a door, to punching a person in the face, could have a physical effect at some later point. And she was somehow able to produce simple weapons in this state, like bows and blades.


    This¡­ Z could turn intangible, create a bow and arrow out of literally nothing, and shoot that same intangible, nearly invisible arrow through someone without any sign that anything had happened. After that, within a certain amount of time (no one knew how long, exactly), the assassin could choose to make the effect tangible, and the person she had shot (or stabbed if close enough), would suffer exactly as though they had truly been shot through with an arrow, or stabbed.


    There was a reason the Ministry wasn¡¯t challenged beyond their deep well of information and contacts within the law enforcement and Star-Touched side of things. That was one example of the forces they could put against someone who annoyed them and broke their rules too much. Which meant that breaking a non-hostility agreement after signing it would be tantamount to suicide.


    After she finished that proposal, Austen watched and waited. She didn¡¯t expect it to be agreed to just that easily. And sure enough, Blackjack shook his head with a soft chuckle. ¡°I owe you a favor,¡± he agreed, ¡°and your aid would be appreciated. But neither extend quite that far, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Letting that settle briefly, the man continued, ¡°For your aid, keeping the property which previously belonged to your people is fair. And it only makes logical sense that we would sign a non-aggression pact before embarking on this sort of alliance. Those are both perfectly acceptable conditions. But as for the rest¡­ we will share the Ministry taxes evenly. After all, this is a venture from both of our organizations. And my people will retain control of all property seized from the Ninety-Niners, as well as half of the remaining Oscuro property that was not previously owned by any gang now affiliated with the Easy Eights.¡±


    That was essentially the counter-proposal Austen had expected. Still, she couldn¡¯t just agree to it. Instead, she made the paper armor lift its head as though considering that before responding through the books, ¡°Even split of taxes, your group gets half the property taken from the Ninety-Niners, not all of it. Splitting half of the unclaimed Oscuro property is¡­ acceptable.¡±


    ¡°Half of everything, hmm?¡± Blackjack made a show of considering that as much as she had made a show of considering his previous offer. ¡°Half of everything aside from the property that already belonged to your people before Oscuro¡¯s drastic expansion.¡± He watched the armor, waiting until Austen made it give a single, silent nod before offering his hand. ¡°Agreed. Your favor is paid back in allowing your people to take all of their previously stolen property. And the rest is a simple alliance. We eliminate our enemies together, with a contract to avoid any violence between our groups for two years.¡±


    They shook hands. Or at least, Blackjack shook hands with the empty paper armor, Austen¡¯s power making it feel as sturdy as steel. Then they agreed to meet the next evening in order to sign a contract with the Ministry, who would remain neutral throughout the upcoming events, aside from upholding that contract.


    Once it was over, La Casa¡¯s leader moved to step back into his car, which pulled away and disappeared into the night without any further issues. Austen then watched the roof, as the Touched and Prev troops there silently withdrew as soon as their leader was safely away.


    Then it was done with. She¡¯d made an alliance with a gang powerful enough to help her own gang deal with her father and his own alliance. The next step of her plan to finally see the man who had abandoned her and her mother was finally in motion.


    Soon, oh so very soon, Cu¨¦lebre would finally get everything that was coming to him. And Austen couldn¡¯t wait to make sure he knew just who had made him pay for it.

 Interlude 11B - Robert And Pencil

    Four Years Ago


    With the steady sound of tires gliding across uneven pavement, a wheelchair rolled across the dark, empty parking lot toward the front of the member¡¯s only warehouse store. Its occupant, Robert Parson, was incredibly tall when standing. At his full height, the dark-skinned man was a solidly built six feet, eight inches. Which meant that even seated as he was now, he cut quite an impressive figure, and his eye level remained higher than many even when they were standing.


    The wheelchair wasn¡¯t electric. Nor was it one of those Tech-Touched brain-operated models. No, it was an old-school, manual chair, propelled by Robert¡¯s own heavily-muscled arms as he pushed the wheels to guide himself right up the ramp and to the front doors of the store.


    Despite being automatic doors, they were locked and didn¡¯t open. As he sat in that wheelchair, Robert considered those stubbornly motionless doors for a moment before slowly leaning up. His hand stretched out, and he gave three firm, loud knocks against the metal part of the door. The sound rang out around him and he could hear it within the store itself through the glass.


    Instantly, the beam of a powerful flashlight appeared from inside, pointed right at his eyes. It came quickly enough that Robert had no doubt the person on the other side of it, hidden in the dark recesses just beyond the store¡¯s entrance area, had been watching him the whole time, waiting for the man to announce himself like that. He also had no doubt that there was some kind of gun on the other side of that light as well, if he had tried to break in quietly.


    For a moment, nothing else happened. There was silence, while that blinding light was shone directly into his eyes. Finally, the light dimmed slightly, and a figure appeared in front of it. The figure moved to stand in front of the door, staring at Robert. Then the seated man heard a quiet chuckle, before a hand reached out to touch a control on one side of the door. It finally slid open with a hiss, as the man within stepped aside with a grand gesture for the new arrival to enter.


    With a single push against the wheels, Robert sent the chair into the store, then made the chair turn to face the figure who had let him in. Finally, he was able to look the other man in the face.


    Well, sort of. The man wore a mask, a sackcloth bag of sorts that left his eyes and mouth exposed. Beyond that, he wore a brown tweed suit that didn¡¯t fit properly, with black gloves. In one of those gloves, the man held a heavy-duty pistol. It was already pointed at Robert. ¡°So you¡¯re the guy they sent in, huh? Took you fucking long enough to get here,¡± he complained. ¡°What¡¯d they do, have the cash flown in from Chicago?


    ¡°You call yourself Pencil, right?¡± Robert prompted, ignoring both the complaint and the gun leveled right at his face. ¡°That¡¯s what people keep saying anyway. Pencil, the invincible. Or is it Pencil, the immune?¡±


    The response from the other man was a snicker. ¡°Tell you the truth, I prefer Pencil the humble and charming,¡± he drawled with obvious amusement before giving a vague wave of his free hand, the gun never wavering from its target, ¡°but for now, we¡¯ll go with the most important title: Pencil, the man in charge. And I¡¯ve gotta say, when I told the Krights to send just one guy who wouldn¡¯t make me nervous, I wasn¡¯t expecting them to embrace the goal so much. I mean, a wheelchair? They send in a guy in a wheelchair? Now that is commitment to the cause.¡±


    He trailed off, lifting his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Course, if you weren¡¯t in that chair, big guy like you might be a bit more of a concern. But I suppose I don¡¯t have anything to worry about, long as you¡¯re stuck there.¡± Pausing, he added in a curious tone, ¡°So which is it? You trying to trick me, or do you really need that thing? Come on, you can tell me. We can be friends and sort this out.¡±


    Robert spoke flatly, his words gruff as he watched the man¡¯s reaction. ¡°Spine injury. Paraplegic.¡± From everything he¡¯d already heard, he was positive that this ¡®Pencil¡¯ wasn¡¯t nearly as old as others thought he was. No, he wasn¡¯t a man at all. Not in the sense of being an adult. He was a teenager. Robert was pegging him at somewhere between sixteen and seventeen, though he¡¯d be more confident if that mask wasn¡¯t there. Of course, a lot of things would be different without the mask, and the power that it symbolized.


    ¡°Shit, really?¡± Pencil shook his head. ¡°That sucks, man. Unless¨C¡± His free hand snapped down, a small blade somehow appearing in his grip as he stabbed it into Robert¡¯s thigh while pushing the pistol right up against his chin expectantly. ¡°¨Cyou¡¯re fucking lying!¡±


    A brief pause followed, while he stared into Robert¡¯s eyes, waiting for a reaction to the pain of the blade in his leg. When none came, he slowly chuckled, before straightening. The knife came free. ¡°Well! Okay then, I guess we¡¯re all good, huh? Glad to see we¡¯re on the same page.¡±


    With that, he pivoted and started to walk. His hand moved to grab a nearby roll of gauze, which he tossed over his shoulder to the seated man. ¡°Might wanna wrap that up, big guy.¡±


    The fact that this Pencil, a freak who had started playing his psychotic games through the city a few months earlier, had had gauze ready and waiting, showed that he¡¯d always been prepared to stab whoever came through that door. Probably as a way of making a point about who was in control of the situation. Robert considered that, adding it to what he knew about this kid while pressing the gauze pad against the wound in his leg. It auto-bonded, the sides sticking to his jeans while the middle part sealed itself to the actual wound. At least that meant he wouldn¡¯t get blood all over the chair.


    Once that was done, he gave a shove to the wheels to send himself after the waiting Pencil. ¡°The kid,¡± he said flatly, ¡°where is he?¡±


    ¡°See, here¡¯s the thing,¡± Pencil retorted, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I demanded money in exchange for the kid. And call me crazy, but I¡¯m just not seeing how you can keep a million dollars stashed in your pockets. What¡¯re you doing, sitting on it? Please tell me you¡¯re not sitting on it. Cuz this whole business venture here is just gonna seem like it¡¯s not worth it if my money¡¯s got your butt on it.¡±


    In response, Robert held up one hand, then used two fingers to carefully reach into his pocket while the other man watched him intently. Slowly, he withdrew a leather bag and gave it a light toss that way. ¡°There¡¯s half.¡±


    Catching the bag, Pencil curiously opened it, pouring out a handful of diamonds with a low whistle.


    ¡°That¡¯s five hundred thousand worth right there,¡± Robert informed him. ¡°There¡¯s an identical bag in my other pocket. You get that after I get the boy. Then we all get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Well, well, how wonderfully shiny.¡± Shoving the bag of diamonds in his own pocket, Pencil gave a grand gesture. ¡°In that case, let¡¯s not dilly dally. I¡¯m sure the Krights want their boy back.¡± Clicking his heels together, he started walking deeper into the store. ¡°And what do I call you, for being such a fine, upstanding mediator in all this?¡±


    ¡°Just a man doing a favor,¡± Robert informed him simply, rolling after the psychotic superpowered killer. ¡°You said no Stars, no Shields. I¡¯m neither.¡±


    Giving what was obviously an amused grin over his shoulder as they moved together through the store, Pencil cracked, ¡°Yeah, I suppose I would¡¯ve heard about the amazing paraplegic man if you were Touched, eh?¡± Snickering to himself, he finally put a hand out to stop Robert. ¡°Right here¡¯s good.¡± Raising his voice, Pencil called, ¡°Hey kid! Step out into sight, would ya?!¡±


    While Robert watched intently, a fourteen-year-old boy with brown hair hesitantly stepped out of one of the aisles ahead of them, maybe sixty feet away. He was gagged, and both of his wrists were handcuffed to a chain, which itself was wrapped around the thick metal pole holding up the shelves of that aisle.


    ¡°There¡¯s the kid, just like I promised,¡± Pencil announced. ¡°Owen Kright, ready and waiting to go right back to his precious mommy and daddy. And this,¡± he held up a key, ¡°goes to those cuffs. I¡¯ll trade you for that other bag of yours, then I¡¯ll run on out of here while you go unlock the kid. Everyone ends up happy. And, more importantly, not dead.¡± An obvious grin stretched across his face, visible through the hole in the mask. ¡°What do you say, pal?¡±


    ¡°What do I say¡­?¡± For a moment, Robert looked at the handcuffed, gagged boy. There was obvious terror in his eyes, even from this distance. The kid was scared shitless. It reminded Robert of another, younger child who had been frightened like that, just a year earlier. A kid who still meant an awful lot to him, even if he wasn¡¯t her bodyguard anymore.


    Finally, he looked back to the masked man and met those eyes, peering at him through the jagged holes. His voice was even as he replied, ¡°I think you¡¯ve been breaking the rules of this city for too long, and it¡¯s about time that someone shows you there are consequences to that.¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Pencil¡¯s immediate reaction was a slightly lifted chin, his gaze regarding the other man with renewed interest. ¡°Oooh, what city rules am I breaking? Is it the kidnapping? The ransom demand? Wait, no, shit, I¡¯ve got it. It must be the eight store employees laying in pieces in the back room over there, isn¡¯t it?¡± Adopting a chagrined tone, he lamented, ¡°I always forget about the ¡®don¡¯t chop people up and strew their bodies over the back room¡¯ rule.¡± A toothy smile appeared through the hole in the mask. ¡°One of these days, that¡¯s gonna get me in trouble.¡±


    ¡°One of these days,¡± Robert agreed in a dry voice, before adding, ¡°And you broke the rules of the Ministry. That¡¯s a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°The Ministry, the Ministry, all I keep hearing about every time I try to have a little fun is the Ministry.¡± Pencil¡¯s head shook with annoyance. ¡°What¡¯s the point of being a bad guy if you follow all these little rules, hmm? Which one was this, no kidnapping teenagers after Labor Day? Wait, is Labor Day the one in the spring or the fall? Fuck, I always mix that one up with Memorial Day. Wait, Memorial Day is Maymorial Day. May. May, I was right the first time. No kidnapping after Labor Day?¡±


    ¡°Some of these rich people,¡± Robert informed him, ¡°they pay what you¡¯d call a special tax. Makes their kids safe from the Fells in the city. Because the Fells, like you, know that the second they break the rules and go after one of those protected kids, that¡¯s when the Ministry steps in. You broke that rule. That kid over there, the Krights pay their taxes. He¡¯s protected. You should¡¯ve left him alone. Now, I¡¯ve been asked to step in.¡±


    Clapping his hands together once with a sound of put-on fear, Pencil replied in a terribly shaking voice. ¡°Ohh no, Paraplegic Man is gonna punish me for not playing by some asinine rules. Whatever will I do?¡± Snickering to himself, he leaned over a bit while taunting, ¡°Would it help you be more intimidating if I got a little closer to that chair you¡¯re stuck in?¡±


    It was Robert¡¯s turn to offer a very faint, humorless smile. His voice was a quiet, barely audible murmur, ¡°Now, who said I was stuck in it?¡±


    The moment those words reached Pencil and he started to react, Robert¡¯s hand lashed out as he rose from the seat. He grabbed the Fell-Touched by the collar of his suit and bodily yanked him over. Before he knew what was happening, Pencil was shoved into the wheelchair while a pair of heavy shackles were yanked from Robert¡¯s pockets and latched over the psychopath¡¯s wrists to trap him there. It happened so quickly and smoothly that Pencil was already seated and cuffed to the chair by the time he was actually able to react to the sudden motion. Belatedly, his foot lashed out to kick at the larger man, but Robert had already stepped backward. His movement was no more hindered from the old spinal injury (which had already been addressed by the finest medical experts and equipment that money could buy) than it was by the knife stab that he had intentionally shown no reaction to in order to carry on the ruse.


    Jerking against the shackles, Pencil gave a loud laugh that sounded more annoyed than amused. ¡°Oh, you think something like this is gonna hold me, big man?¡± Despite his words, the psychopath couldn¡¯t move from that spot. The chair was suddenly much more rooted to the floor than it had been, and refused to budge.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Robert replied with a slight headshake. ¡°Probably not for long. Not with all those Tech toys you¡¯ve been stealing. I figure one of the first things you did was grab something that could get you out of a tight spot. Something to teleport away, something to phase out of those cuffs, probably both. And other bullshit tricks, more than I could shake a really big stick at. But before you do anything drastic, tell me, you hear a click when you sat in that thing?¡±


    The masked boy¡¯s head slowly tilted, while he considered the question. ¡°If you¡¯re saying there¡¯s a mine in this chair, we need to have a chat about how my power works.¡±


    ¡°Not a mine in the chair, no,¡± Robert agreed. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t accomplish shit. but you know how you bitched about how long it took me to get here? I could¡¯ve made it sooner, but you see, something occurred to me before I ever came to this place. You¡¯re not just in it for the ransom.¡±


    Clearly still annoyed, yet curious about where the man was going with that (and confident beyond the point of arrogance that he couldn¡¯t be hurt thanks to his power), Pencil managed to shift a bit until he was almost lounging in the wheelchair despite being cuffed to it. ¡°I¡¯m not?¡± Another toothy smile appeared. ¡°This sounds like a fun theory you¡¯ve cooked up. Do tell.¡± He obviously wasn¡¯t worried about actually being trapped, given his prepared defenses against similar scenarios.


    ¡°See,¡± Robert informed him, ¡°all that stuff I said a minute ago about the whole rules about not targeting rich people¡¯s kids? You knew that already. You chose that kid over there for a reason. It wasn¡¯t random. It wasn¡¯t an accident. You chose that kid because you knew it would get the Ministry¡¯s attention. Because you wanted that kid¡¯s parents to run to the Ministry and get them involved. You like to play magician, Pencil. You like to play ¡®look over here¡¯ while your little assistant does the real trick behind the curtain.¡±


    ¡°And what assistant d¨C¡± Pencil started.


    Robert interrupted with, ¡°Seven-Three-Eight-Five Abalone Drive West. Suite Thirty-Six.¡±


    For the first time, Pencil did a double-take of genuine surprise, blurting, ¡°How do you¨C¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been looking for those records for a long time, haven¡¯t you?¡± Robert asked, shaking his head. ¡°Two different kidnappings, a hostage crisis at a grocery store, and a bar brawl that escalated into mass murder, all in under two months. And during each and every one of those events, where you stayed longer than you had to, a different office that holds adoption records was broken into by a young woman who was just¡­ so distracting. Four different offices. But they were all the wrong ones. They didn¡¯t have the records the two of you were looking for, did they? They didn¡¯t have the records of what happened to the baby that Collette and Shane Elbrecht gave away. Collette and Shane Elbrecht,¡± he added thoughtfully, ¡°two of your first victims, from almost a year ago.¡±


    After a brief pause to judge the silent masked boy¡¯s reaction, Robert continued. ¡°But they weren¡¯t random either, were they? You stole something out of their house. A box, one you want to get into pretty badly. But you didn¡¯t realize it was DNA-locked until after you killed them. Can¡¯t break into it without destroying whatever¡¯s inside. And you can¡¯t use a dead person to open it. You need a living relative to open that box. And you¡¯re so desperate to get whatever¡¯s inside, when you found out those two gave away a baby years back, you just had to get the files to find out where they ended up.¡±


    Obviously taken aback by how much the strange man knew, Pencil managed, ¡°You put a lot together on your way over here, old man.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t just put it together on my way over,¡± Robert informed him, reaching into his jacket pocket before withdrawing a manila folder with some papers, which he opened to show the masked figure a brief glimpse of. ¡°I stopped at the office and grabbed the file before your girl could get there. Deleted the computer file too, just in case. Which makes this the only copy left.¡± He waved the folder idly. ¡°I¡¯d wager she¡¯s still looking through all those boxes as we speak.¡±


    Eyes zeroing in on the file, Pencil slowly announced, ¡°You know what, heh. Good show. But you give me that file and I¡¯ll let you walk out of here with the kid and the gems. All I want is that file. Hell, you hand it over and we could all be friends.¡±


    ¡°Friends, huh?¡± Robert appeared to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head. ¡°Nah.¡± With that, the man produced a lighter, holding it up to the folder. In seconds, the papers within were engulfed in flames.


    ¡°You fucking cocksucker!¡± The scream of rage tore its way out of Pencil¡¯s throat, before he blurted an obvious command word for stolen Touched-Tech, ¡°Sideslip!¡± For an instant, it worked. The masked figure was abruptly standing a few feet away from the wheelchair, no longer handcuffed. But in the next instant, he was engulfed in white flames, before abruptly disappearing entirely with a scream of surprise.


    Turning on his heel while dropping the remnants of the file to the floor as they turned to ash, Robert walked to where Owen Kright was, reaching out to take the gag off the boy.


    ¡°Wha¨Cwhat just¨Cwhat¡¯d you do?!¡± Owen blurted, eyes wide with shock.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t give him diamonds, I¡¯ll tell you that much,¡± Robert replied. ¡°Serclin Stones, named after the guy who makes them. They¡­ react volatilely to any kind of Travel powers. Even Tech-Touched-based ones. Makes them explode and screw with the Travel power that set them off. That guy could be anywhere in the state right now.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± the boy stammered, ¡°what was the click when he sat in the chair? You said it wasn¡¯t a mine, but¡­ but what was it?¡±


    ¡°What, that?¡± Robert showed the boy a small smile. ¡°Nothing. There was no click. But he wasn¡¯t about to admit he didn¡¯t hear it when I implied there was one, and it made him shut up trying to figure it out long enough for me to get through what I needed to do.


    ¡°Now come on, let¡¯s get you out of here. I¡¯ve got a guy named Kent who¡¯d like to have a quick word with you before you go back to your parents.¡±


    *******


    Two hours later, fifteen-year-old Amanda Sanvers, known to the public as Cup, sat in the back of a diner, watching a couple late night news talking heads blather on about the latest Collision Point. Apparently some idiots actually worshiped those Abyssal monsters.


    She glanced over as her beloved brother made his way to the booth and slumped down in it. His voice was dark. ¡°It was right there. We almost had it.¡±


    ¡°He read the file,¡± Amanda assured him gently, hand moving over to squeeze Nick¡¯s arm. ¡°We just need to get info out of him. We¡¯ll find out where that kid was adopted off to, and open the box. We just gotta be a little patient.¡±


    ¡°What we need,¡± Nick informed her, ¡°is some more help. This two person act thing isn¡¯t cutting it. We need some more lackeys. We need partners. The Ministry, all these other gangs, even the heroes, they¡¯ve all got gangs. We need a team. But not a boring one. We need a bunch of really fucked up people we can use for cannon fodder and entertainment, babe. But where are we gonna find people like that?¡±


    Lifting her chin, Amanda nodded to the television. ¡°How about right there?¡±


    He looked that way, coughing once. ¡°Typhon? Sweetness, I¡¯m good, but I¡¯m not ¡®talk an Abyssal  into doing our bidding¡¯ good.¡±


    It was Amanda¡¯s turn to grin. ¡°Not the Abyssal. All those dumbass fucks they¡¯ve got lined up to worship him. Those stupid fucking Abyssal cults. They seem good for a laugh.¡±


    For a moment, Nick didn¡¯t respond. He watched the news going on about the people who were obsessed with the Abyssals in general, and the one called Typhon in particular. Finally, he chuckled low. ¡°My sweet, sweet sister.


    ¡°Sometimes, you have the most amazing ideas.¡±

 Pink 12-01

    It was a good thing that the next day was Saturday, because there was no way I was going to be able to go to school. I was completely out of it, dead to the world (metaphorically rather than literally thanks to Pack and the others) until almost noon. Even then, it felt as though only a few minutes had passed from the time I closed my eyes to the time I woke up staring blearily at the outline of bright, middle-of-the-day sunlight coming in through my closed blinds.


    For another couple minutes, I just lay there, staring at the hints of light while trying to get my mind around everything that had happened the day before. After being abducted and nearly killed by the Scions, rescued by Pack, That-A-Way, Broadway, and Skip working together, having to lie to my parents by making up a story about where I¡¯d been all night (and subsequently being examined by a doctor), being punished by having the time it would take me to get an actual car extended, and what else¡­? Oh right, telling Pack and That-A-Way about the secret organization running both the good and bad guys in the city without actually mentioning that the people at the head of that organization were my own freaking parents.


    Yeah. It was a lot. I¡¯d had a busy day. No wonder I¡¯d slept so long. It was a wonder I wasn¡¯t some gibbering wreck in the corner, to be honest. And I still hadn¡¯t been able to find Bobby, even though that had been the entire point of that endeavor. Though I did have that code off the toys that I¡¯d found in the cabin. A code for something I didn¡¯t know anything about. Oh, and of course, Eits was still hurt. Eits had been hurt because I asked him to look into that for me.


    That thought, of Eits lying there in that bed, made my eyes close. I shuddered a little, terrified just at the memory of seeing him like that. Knowing that he was there because of me was just¡­ too much. I couldn¡¯t stand it. And I couldn¡¯t lay there anymore. I had to distract myself from that.


    A sudden weight shift on the bed made me jump. Izzy was there, picking herself up from the bottom of my bed, where she had apparently laid down. ¡°Sorry,¡± she managed, blushing a little. ¡°I was waiting for you to wake up but I guess I¡­ fell asleep.¡±


    Even as she said it, the girl was yawning. Which made me realize, ¡°Wait, you were¡­ you were up for a long time waiting for me, weren¡¯t you?¡± Saying that, I felt a renewed rush of guilt go through me. The thought of Izzy sitting up, worried for so long without any way of knowing where I was or what had happened, somehow it made me feel even worse than I had about making my parents worry. Izzy hadn¡¯t asked to be involved with any of this, she was innocent.


    A slight flinch crossed the younger girl¡¯s face before she admitted hesitantly, ¡°I tried to cover for you, but it umm¡­ it didn¡¯t work.¡± Looking guilty, she stared at me with wide eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± I had to do a double-take at that, staring right back at her. ¡°You¡¯re sorry? What¨CIzzy, no.¡± Quickly, I scooted down to that end of the bed to sit next to the other girl. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be sorry about anything. It was my fault.¡± Technically it was the Scions¡¯ fault, but I¡¯d never say that to her. ¡°I¡¯m the one who made a mistake. I¡¯m the one who¨Cnever mind. It¡¯s okay. You don¡¯t have to feel guilty just because you couldn¡¯t stop my parents from realizing I never came home. I promise, it¡¯s okay.¡± With that, I put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°So knock it off, alright?¡±


    Izzy hesitated, looking at me with a surprisingly intense stare for someone who wasn¡¯t even quite yet a teenager. Finally, she gave a short nod. ¡°But you¡¯re not in too much trouble?¡±


    I made myself shrug. ¡°Yeah, I sorta have to wait longer before I finally get to drive once I pass my test and all that. I¡¯ve been looking forward to it basically since I was old enough to know what a car was, and now it¡¯s further away.¡± It wasn¡¯t all that hard to make it sound like the punishment was as bad as it was supposed to be, because driving really had been incredibly important to me up until recently. I still wanted to, of course. I just¡­ had bigger things to worry about. Much bigger things. But I could still make that sound pretty convincing.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Izzy quietly said once more, this time adding, ¡°I hope your parents weren¡¯t super mad.¡±


    ¡°We worked it out,¡± I assured her. ¡°But I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be in a rush to go anywhere today. So, you wanna play some more of that game from before?¡±


    There was a moment of hesitation before she nodded. ¡°Uhh, okay.¡±


    ¡°Great. But breakfast first,¡± I insisted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like to get my butt kicked on an empty stomach.¡±


    ******


    So, I basically played games and watched movies with her all day. It was pretty much all I could stand to do with the pain in my side and how exhausted I felt. Not to mention how much my parents kept either checking up on us or having one of the staff do so. They also had me take several special pills that were supposed to help my body heal faster. It wasn¡¯t like an instant cure or anything, but still. It also made me a little woozy and sleepy, another thing stopping me from going out or doing much.


    But that was okay, I needed the break. I would get back to everything else soon enough. For that one day, I just spent time with Izzy. That was good enough.


    Then it was Sunday, and I felt a little more like myself. After getting up, showering, and dressing, I emerged from the bathroom to find my dad there. He enthusiastically told me that he was taking Simon, Izzy, and me out to visit the racetrack just outside the city, and that we would make a day of it. We were going to get lunch, see some cars and races, tour the track, then get dinner. It was going to be a whole thing. And, of course, it would allow him to keep an eye on me to make sure I didn¡¯t have any kind of lingering effects from that whole head injury thing. He didn¡¯t actually say that part, but I picked up on it pretty easily.


    I also couldn¡¯t really argue. Of course the old me would be ecstatic about going to see the cars at the track with my dad. If I tried to demur or wasn¡¯t into it, he¡¯d know something was wrong. He¡¯d be even more suspicious. Hell, he might try to find out if I was some kind of shapeshifter Touched who had stolen his real daughter, given the circumstances. So I had to do this, and make it seem like everything was just hunky-dory. No matter how much I really didn¡¯t want to.


    Besides, Izzy was going, and there was no way I¡¯d abandon her like that. I wasn¡¯t going to leave her to go out with my father. Especially not when I still didn¡¯t know what that whole situation was. If something happened to that girl while she was out with Dad and I wasn¡¯t there, I¡­ I¡¯d feel even worse than I did about Eits getting hurt.


    So, I was going. I made a point of thanking my father, hugging him, promising that I would never do anything as stupid as skating alone in a construction zone again, then hurried into my bedroom. As soon as I was out of sight with the door closed, I turned off the excited act, the bright smile melting from my face as I turned to look in the mirror. Yeah, I was going to have to keep that up all day, wasn¡¯t I? That was just great.


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± The sound of Izzy¡¯s voice from over by my window, where the other girl had been standing, made me jolt with surprise. That was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that she¡¯d startled me. When my gaze jerked that way, her face was scrunched up uncertainly. ¡°Are you really okay? You¡­¡± Again, there was a brief hesitation, as if she wasn¡¯t sure she should actually say anything. ¡°You looked sad.¡±


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    Quickly, I bobbed my head. ¡°Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about¡­ stupid things. No big deal. Seriously, how could I be sad when we¡¯re going on this awesome little daytrip, right? You¨Cwait, do you even like cars?¡± It only occured to me at that moment that this whole thing might not actually be much of a fun event for her if she wasn¡¯t actually into this stuff the way I was.


    Sure enough, the other girl offered me a helpless shrug, looking self-conscious. ¡°They¡¯re okay,¡± she offered weakly. ¡°I mean, your parents have a lot of really pretty cars, but I don¡¯t know what the big deal is about engines and models and all that. It goes vroom and takes people places.¡±


    ¡°Goes vroom and¨C¡± Adopting a scandalized look, I poked her. ¡°Yeah, trust me, there¡¯s a lot more to it than that. Good thing we¡¯ve got today to get you into it.¡± Winking then, I added, ¡°It¡¯s okay if you¡¯re really not though. Maybe it¡¯ll still be nice to get out of the house and walk around? Plus, they have some pretty good snacks at those places. Suuuuper buttery popcorn. And the places my dad¡¯s gonna take us to for lunch and dinner¡­ oh believe me, you don¡¯t wanna miss that.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Izzy retorted with a little snicker, clearly realizing how much I was trying to play it up for her. ¡°You¡¯re right, I do want to get out of this place. I want¨C¡± She stopped abruptly, though it had been clear that she¡¯d been about to say something important. But then something flashed across her face. It was a weird expression, like¡­ sad and lost, but also furious. Then it went away just as quickly as it had appeared.


    ¡°Izzy?¡± I pressed just a little bit, not even thinking about my own things in that moment. Not after the brief flash of whatever that was that I¡¯d seen in her eyes at that moment. Izzy was really upset about something. Not an immediate thing, but¡­ but something. Even though I¡¯d only known her for a very short time, seeing her look like that made me want to find whoever made her feel that way and¡­ and do bad things. ¡°Are you okay?¡± The question was met with a hesitant nod. And now I felt like our positions had flipped. It was me asking her if she was alright after I¡¯d seen an expression on her face.


    Wait, did that mean that whatever she was going through was similar to what I was going through? Did¡­ was one of Izzy¡¯s parents or another family member a supervillain? Maybe Izzy had found out and that was why she was here, being kept safe from Touched on either side and the authorities. Could that explain the vulnerable, yet angry look I¡¯d seen, and everything else?


    It could. It really could. I couldn¡¯t really think of any part that it didn¡¯t cover. Izzy finding out that someone really close to her, my guess was one or both parents, was a supervillain and then being ¡®protected¡¯/hidden away¡­ it would make sense. It gelled with everything I¡¯d seen and answered a lot of questions. Especially about why she seemed so open sometimes, but also guarded. And why she would be especially sensitive to any relationship I had with my own parents. That made a disturbing amount of sense.


    Yeah, I was pretty sure that was it. But who? Who was Izzy¡¯s supervillain parent or parents? That was all I could think about as the two of us left my bedroom and headed downstairs to where Dad and Simon were already waiting in the main foyer by the front door. I was distracted from those thoughts as both of them loudly and (clearly intentionally) obnoxiously complained about how long it had taken for us to finally join them, making a whole production out of it.


    ¡°See?¡± I started conversationally while looking at the younger girl beside me. ¡°This is why going to someplace with a lot of noise like a racetrack is a good idea. Because it¡¯s so loud you can¡¯t hear the boys whining all the time.¡± Saying that, I winked, pointedly ignoring the wounded sounds and looks while Izzy snickered.


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Dad began with a shake of his head. ¡°Let¡¯s get this show on the road. Jefferson¡¯s bringing Big Sal around, and you know how much of a bad idea it is to make that man wait.¡±


    Yeah, apparently even my own father didn¡¯t like to take our time-obsessed driver off his schedule. Obviously most of that was just playing with us around, but still. Jefferson was not a man who enjoyed surprises or things that made him late once his day was planned.


    We moved out of the house to the front drive, where Big Sal (our imposing black SUV with heavily tinted windows) pulled up just in time for Jefferson to step out, walk around to briefly open and walk away from the back door for the rest of us who didn¡¯t literally sign his paycheck, then open the front passenger door and hold it for my father to get in.


    Izzy and I climbed in the back, while Simon took the middle seat and immediately shoved his earbuds in before losing himself in music. Once Dad was in his seat, Jefferson closed that door, closed our door, then walked around to the driver¡¯s side. A moment later, we pulled out.


    We were driving away from the house in Big Sal. I¡¯d asked my dad about the SUV before, and he¡¯d told me that this thing had enough armored plating and reinforced glass to take multiple tank rounds while barely showing a scratch. It was rated to keep presidents and royalty safe.


    I wondered if he had any reason for us to travel in this today other than just wanting to have enough seats for Izzy. We had plenty of cars. Was there another reason for having this particular one? Was it just that we were taking her away from home and Dad wanted to be safe, or something else? Was there more to this whole trip today? Or was I just being paranoid?


    Either way, I would keep my eyes open. And just hope that nothing crazy happened while we were out on this little trip. I could really use a break, after everything that happened the day before yesterday. And I also needed to sneak away at some point and buy a new phone so I could contact Pack to find out how Eits was doing. Not to mention checking in with Wren, actually meeting with Pack and That-A-Way to figure out how the three of us were going to sneak into that secret base under the mall, piece together what the code on those toys was for, find Bobby, piece together my missing memories, find out what Paige¡¯s whole deal was and how she was connected to that Anthony kid who had apparently been my friend, and, and¡­


    I had a lot to do. Too much. But I needed a break right now. Besides, if I bailed on this trip, Dad really would be suspicious. So I was stuck here, cooling my heels, metaphorically speaking. I had to act like I didn¡¯t have anything important to do, no matter how much stuff was piling up waiting for me to get on with it. I had to reassure my father that everything was just fine first.


    On the way, I thought about my whole theory about Izzy¡¯s family member being Fell-Touched. It still all fit as far as I could tell. She was Latina. Did that mean that one of her parents was a member of Oscuro? It basically had to, right? The odds were really high that way, in any case. If Izzy had a family member who was part of Oscuro, that would explain why my parents were keeping her secreted away. Despite my (totally understandable, damn it) paranoia, I was increasingly certain that they really did care about Izzy and were protecting her. They might have been horrible people in many ways, who did a lot of horrible things, but in this case, I was fairly certain they weren¡¯t the bad guys. So they had to be protecting her from someone else who was dangerous, and Cu¨¦lebre was pretty high up that list.


    Except did they really have to protect her? Everything else I knew about their organization, this ¡®Ministry¡¯, said that all they¡¯d have to do was tell Cu¨¦lebre to leave her alone. So what else was I missing? There was some really obvious thing that would immediately fill in all the blanks here, but I was just missing it.


    I was distracted then, as Dad passed something back to Simon, and he passed it to me. It was a new phone, just like the old one. At least, on the surface. I was going to go over it with a fine tooth comb to make sure it wasn¡¯t reporting anything back to my parents after the scare I¡¯d given them. Not that I¡¯d done Touched stuff on my normal phone in the first place, but I didn¡¯t want it telling them where I was all the time. Any more than normal phones did, anyway. The point was, I was going to make sure this phone hadn¡¯t been tampered with before I took it with me anywhere sensitive. Actually, it was probably safest to just leave that phone wherever I left my clothes from now on. I could easily set up a thing to forward calls from that to my Touched-business phone. Yeah. If Pencil hadn¡¯t destroyed my phone¡¯s ability to connect to the towers and my parents had checked where I was? That would have been really bad.


    Well, it also might¡¯ve been good, if it had helped Dad dump a whole bunch of troops on top of the Scions. But bad in other ways.


    Eventually, we reached the racetrack. It was an enormous facility, the arena itself enclosed behind heavy walls with a retractable ceiling for bad weather, a giant garage along the side opposite the entrance where extra work could be done, and two whole car museums attached to either end. The western museum was dedicated to ¡®normal¡¯ vehicles throughout history, while the eastern museum was dedicated to showcasing vehicles created, inspired, and/or used by Touched. There was a lot of Tech-Touched stuff in the eastern museum, special stuff developed throughout the past twenty years. I¡¯d spent a lot of time in both museums ever since I was a little kid. Not to mention all the time I¡¯d spent in the stands, watching the eclectic assortment of souped up vehicles speeding past. Tech-Touched liked to bring their vehicles here from all over the world during open-powers races to show off what they could do. It was a lot of fun to watch, and I was excited to see another one now despite my own reservations about everything else.


    Jefferson parked, and we got out. Dad made a broad gesture. ¡°Alright, come on then. Let¡¯s show Izzy how we like to have a good time.¡±


    And at that moment, I was so into this whole thing that I managed to resist the urge to ask how many teenagers we¡¯d have to kill before Dad and Simon would start enjoying themselves.

 Pink 12-02

    We didn¡¯t go straight to the track or either of the museums. Instead, Dad led the three of us across the lot to a restaurant near the track. Technically, it was all owned by the same company, a company my father had a large stake in. The track, the museums, the restaurant, all of it was partially owned by my family. And that was just on the surface. Part of me wondered how much of the city my parents owned through the whole Ministry thing. Actually, come to think of it, I probably didn¡¯t want to know right then. It would just be depressing to think about how much power they had when I was supposed to be trying to relax and show Izzy a good time.


    The restaurant was basically a hamburger place, but not exactly a McDonalds. The burgers were really thick and came named after various cars or drivers. They even did a thing where the top of the buns would have an image of a race car lightly burned into them. And the fries were the really long shoestring versions with Parmesan and truffle oil. They were amazing. I really didn¡¯t have to fake that much enthusiasm for coming here, given how hungry I was.


    Apparently, Izzy had never been there before. Or to the track itself. As we walked in the front door of the restaurant, she gasped at the centerpiece of the foyer. It was a full-sized, actually working race car. Specifically, it was a 1967 Ford GT40 Mark IV, beautifully red with a white number 11 on the side. The Mark IV was the only model of the GT40 line that had been built here in the US, since the first three versions were built in England. It was also the only car that had been designed and built entirely here in the US to win at Le Mans in France.


    I told the other girl all of that while the two of us walked a circle around the car. Izzy nodded appreciatively at the right places, but I had the funniest feeling that she really didn¡¯t care all that much. She was one of those people who just thought a car was a car, and that as long as it got you where you wanted to go, there really wasn¡¯t much of a difference between them. Heathen.


    The restaurant manager was talking to Dad and Simon while I was explaining the car¡¯s history to the younger girl. By the time I got that far, it was time to go. My father beckoned, and we followed as the manager (a really friendly man named Kevin whom I had met a few different times since he was always here ready to direct us to a table when we came in) led us to the back of the restaurant. We passed through a couple doors to reach a private dining area with huge floor to ceiling windows that provided a good look at the track off in the distance across the lot, where we could see some of the cars taking practice laps.


    Izzy and I sat on that side of the long table, so we could turn our chairs a bit to look out at the track. Menus were passed out and the manager promised he would be taking care of everything personally. He took our drink requests, assured my father that our food would be out in plenty of time for us to eat before catching the first actual race, and hurried off. Our drinks were brought in and put on the table almost before he¡¯d actually made it out of the room. Yeah, I¡¯d never really paid that much attention before, but I supposed my father was something of a big deal.


    Simon was tuned out again, lost in his phone. But Dad stood up, moving over to stand next to Izzy and me as he gazed out at the cars doing their practice laps. There was a fondness in his voice as he told us about the first time he¡¯d snuck into the track to watch cars pass by. It made him sound¡­ human and simple, just a kid who couldn¡¯t afford a ticket to see something he loved. I glanced over to see his face, and my father looked nostalgic, lost in his memories. It made me want to ask him how so much had changed. Not only in how much money and power he now had, but where his innocence had gone. I wanted to ask him if he was happier this way, if he had any idea how much misery he brought to other people through this Ministry bullshit.


    Instead, I simply listened quietly while he told us about that first race he¡¯d watched, and about how he¡¯d had to run from security before it was over. His run from the security officers had been a race in and of itself, one that more than a few spectators had actually put money on, apparently.


    ¡°Did you get away?¡± Izzy asked, apparently enraptured by the story. She was sitting there, arms on the back of the chair that she had turned around in and chin in her hands as she stared at my father with a wide gaze. ¡°They didn¡¯t catch you, did they? Otherwise you would¡¯ve been banned from that track.¡±


    In response, Dad chuckled. ¡°Well, first, you¡¯ll find that many ¡®lifetime bans¡¯ disappear when your name shows up on a lot of the checks that pay the salaries of the people who banned you.¡± With a wink, he added, ¡°But no, I wasn¡¯t caught. Actually, I owe that to my wife. That was the day¡­¡±


    Then he trailed off. A slight frown touched his face before he shook his head. ¡°Never mind, probably not the best time. Suffice to say, Elena and I had an interesting first meeting.¡± Turning from the window then, as he had been staring out at the track through all that, Dad smiled broadly. ¡°And now we¡¯re here. See how things work out in the end when you keep at it?¡±


    Huh. There was something there. Actually, now that he had talked about it being his first meeting with my mother, I really wanted to hear more of that story. But I knew pushing wouldn¡¯t work, not right now. I was going to keep that in mind and maybe ask Mom about it later. Or I¡¯d find a way to ask Dad when we were alone.


    Either way, that was for later. Right now, I was going to focus on our little outing, and on making sure Izzy had a good time. There would be time to handle all of that other stuff. Instead, I looked at the girl beside me and nudged her before pointing. ¡°See that car over there? The driver¡¯s name is Pranav. He¡¯s really cool, and he¡¯s from Hyderabad. He¡¯s got a lot of stories about India. When the race is over, maybe we can talk to him for a few minutes. I bet he¡¯ll let you sit in his car.¡±


    ¡°Really? Cool.¡± From the look on her face, I was guessing that while Izzy did think that was cool, it wasn¡¯t nearly the kind of ecstatic feeling I¡¯d had when I got to sit in Pranav¡¯s car years earlier. It had been like Christmas morning for me, to the point that I¡¯d barely been able to sit still. She thought the idea of sitting in a race car was just¡­ cool. But at least she wasn¡¯t against it.


    We ate our food as soon as it came, while Dad and I told Izzy stories about car races and various drivers. Simon piped up now and then, but he was mostly interested in his phone throughout all of that. Every once in awhile, he¡¯d look at Dad when he thought I wasn¡¯t looking and mouth something, but I could never really catch much of what it was. My best guess from what I did catch was that he was reporting numbers. Numbers of what, I had no idea. I didn¡¯t know if it was weight, times, amounts, all of the above, something else, or anything. All I was sure of was that it had to do with Ministry stuff. And it was important enough that our father didn¡¯t make him put his phone away during the meal.


    The food was, of course, amazing. Kevin made sure we had dessert, and then we left to head over to the track. On the way, I told Izzy about the time I¡¯d been so excited to get to the race that I¡¯d grabbed the hand of a stranger thinking it was my dad and dragged him toward the door.


    ¡°It was funny,¡± I started, ¡°because when I¨C¡± Then I stopped. The memory that had flashed into my head was that I¡¯d told someone about that the day after and they¨Che¡­ told me about something he did that was like that.. He told me¡­ He¡­ he was¡­ he was¡­


    A rush of pain flooded my head. I stumbled just a little before catching myself. Dad¡¯s gaze snapped to me, hand rising. ¡°Cassidy? Are¨C¡±


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    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± I blurted, shaking my head while doing my best to ignore the nausea-inducing pain that was still pulsing there. ¡°I got distracted and tripped over my own feet. It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m fine. I just¨CI need to use the restroom.¡±


    ¡°Take Izzy,¡± my father murmured. ¡°Are you sure¨C¡±


    ¡°Dad,¡± I insisted, meeting his gaze, ¡°I¡¯m good. Trust me, we¡¯ll be right back.¡± It took everything I had not to double over and clutch my head right then. I really wished one of my paints erased pain like this.


    With that, I took Izzy¡¯s hand and walked with her. Restroom. I knew where the restroom was. I just had to go that way, get in a stall, and sit down for a minute. Then I could get through this. The memory that kept trying to shove its way into my head was painful enough that it had nearly made me fall over back there. I had to get a handle on it, quick. Before my dad started getting more¡­ worried about my reaction. I¡¯d gotten lucky with the whole doctor thing yesterday, the last thing I needed now was for my parents to insist on a hospital visit.


    Izzy was watching me as we walked, her own expression pensive. I could tell she wanted to ask something about all that, which she finally did with a hesitant, ¡°Are you okay? I mean, I know you don¡¯t want your parents to be all worried and stuff, but if you really have a head injury¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s totally fine,¡± I quickly insisted. ¡°I mean, probably not totally fine. I¡¯ve got bruises and all. But I don¡¯t need any kind of doctor or anything. I¡¯m just, you know, I need to get some water.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you can use these too?¡± Izzy offered while holding up a bottle of Ibuprofen. When I glanced that way, she added, ¡°I asked Mr. Jefferson if we could stop to pick up pain relief and he gave this to me when I told him it was for you. Did you know he has a whole medical kit in the car? Not just a normal emergency first aid kit, it¡¯s like a whole ambulance supply shelf.¡±


    Taking the bottle, I swallowed a couple of the pills before nodding. ¡°Thanks, and yeah, Jefferson¡¯s really big on being prepared for anything. I¡­¡± Biting my lip, I glanced to her. ¡°You asked him for headache medicine for me before I had a headache?¡±


    She managed a little smile, shrugging. ¡°You got hurt just like¡­ a day ago and now we¡¯re out in bright daylight around a bunch of loud cars. Of course you¡¯re gonna need something for pain. I just¡­ wanted to help.¡±


    I could hear the guilt in her voice. She still felt bad about everything that had happened. And I wasn¡¯t sure why, exactly. Unless¡­ if I was right about one or both of her parents being supervillains, of course she would feel guilty. Of course she would. Duh. How did I feel? How easy was it for me to feel that guilt overwhelm me? Yeah. Yeah, that was it. Again, everything fit.


    Grabbing a couple water bottles after feeding ten dollars into the nearest vending machine, I passed one to Izzy before gulping down about half of mine. For her part, Izzy stared at the bottle, her face twisting. ¡°Five dollars for a bottle of water? It¡¯s water! How do you make people pay five dollars for twenty ounces of something that¡¯s seventy percent of the world?! There¡¯s over three hundred million trillion gallons of it! Are we on Mars? Did we go to Mars after all and nobody told me?!¡±


    Snickering a little despite everything, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s just marked up for being in a venue like this. You should see how much a hot dog costs.¡± Pausing, I added, ¡°I mean, I assume it¡¯s supposed to be a lot. Everyone else says it¡¯s a lot.¡±


    Izzy was staring at me. Her mouth opened and shut a couple times before she managed a weak, almost pleading as though hoping I could make some logical sense of it for her, ¡°It¡¯s water.¡±


    ¡°Very expensive water, apparently,¡± I replied while patting her shoulder. ¡°So you should drink it. But first, let¡¯s do our business.¡± By that point we were at the restroom, which I gestured toward before heading in.


    I took my time, sitting in the stall with my head in my hands. My mind was racing, now that I¡¯d given it the chance. The day after that whole thing at the race track years ago. I¡¯d told¡­ someone about it. I knew I did. I told someone the story and they told me a story about¡­ about¡­


    Uuuuuggggghhnnnnnn. The pain was almost too much. I had to quickly bite down hard on my knuckle to avoid giving an audible reaction. My vision swam for a second, and it was a good thing that I was already sitting down. Damn it, damn it!


    Anthony. It had to be Anthony, right? He was my age, he¡¯d been erased from my memory. I¡¯d told someone about taking the hand of a person I thought was my father and walking off with a stranger at the racetrack. Yes. Yes, that was right. It was clear in my head. I told that person about it, kind of laughing but also kind of scared by the memory. I told them, and she¨C


    Wait.


    She? No. No, that was wrong. That was wrong. No, the person that had been erased from my memory was Anthony. And Anthony was definitely a he. So¡­ why did I think ¡®she¡¯? What memory had I lost that had to do with a she? That didn¡¯t even make sense. Why would there be some other friend who was¡­ no, no I was wrong. It had to be Anthony. This was just my erased memories playing a trick on my brain. That was the only explanation for it. The person I¡¯d told that story to the day after was that Anthony kid, not some weird girl I couldn¡¯t remember.


    Shaking off those feelings, I cleaned up at the sink, splashed water on my face, then met up with Izzy to leave the restroom. The two of us walked out together before I turned in a circle to orient myself about where we were going. Right, we needed¨C


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± A voice from nearby called, and I blinked that way to see a familiar guy wearing a race uniform with Ten Towers logos over it.


    ¡°Adrian?¡± I blurted. It was him, the guy who had been abducted and roughed up by Uncle Friendly and Mister Harmful just because he happened to drive Ashton¡¯s brother Josh out of the city. The guy who had driven me home that first night, the night that I¡­ the night I found out about my family.


    ¡°You know him?¡± Izzy piped up, blinking back and forth between us with a curious frown.


    ¡°Sort of,¡± I replied. ¡°Oh, uhh, Adrian, this is my friend Izzy. Izzy, this is Adrian. He was an Uber driver, and also a janitor at school. But then¨CI mean, something¡­ happened? I don¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± he assured us. ¡°And probably not one we should get into. But yeah, I guess I¡¯m not really either of those things anymore.¡±


    I gestured to his uniform. ¡°Yeah, I guess not. Looks like you upgraded.¡±


    Chuckling self-consciously, Adrian rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Yeah well, I¡¯m not exactly a race driver. Not yet, anyway. Gotta earn that. But they let me drive the pace car, and I get to put the Ten Towers rides through their paces. Mostly I¡¯m a mechanic though. But hey, it¡¯s a living. A pretty good one. Plus, it means my brothers get to live on campus.¡±


    I smiled a little at that. ¡°Cool. That¡¯s really cool. I¡¯m glad everything¨CI mean, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay. You disappeared from school, and no one really knew what happened exactly.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, kid¨CI mean Cassidy,¡± the guy quickly corrected. ¡°You have a good day and all. And hey, try not to be out so late all the time. Things get pretty dangerous out there. Good to meet you too, Izzy. You guys enjoy the race.¡±


    Giving him a thumbs up, I headed off with the other girl, lost in thought. So, Adrian was doing okay. He was safe with Ten Towers, especially now that the whole search for the vials was over. At least there was that. I could think of a lot of worse ways that whole thing could have gone.


    ¡°Hey, Cassidy!¡± Once again, I was dragged out of my thoughts as Izzy and I approached Dad and Simon. Those two were there, but there were a couple others as well.


    ¡°Amber? Jae?¡± I spoke up, blinking back and forth between the two girls.


    ¡°Your dad told us you were coming here,¡± Amber explained, after Jae murmured a quiet greeting. ¡°He said we could join up with you to watch the race.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°Hey, Izzy. What¡¯s up?¡±


    While they greeted each other, I looked toward my father. He raised an eyebrow, mouthing, ¡®Sorry, is that okay?¡¯ while nodding toward my two classmates. In turn, I offered him a quick smile and nod. It was fine. Today was about relaxing and not having any problems. I needed a break from¡­ all of that. Having a couple totally normal friends around like Amber and Jae was just what the doctor ordered.


    ¡°Well, guys?¡± I pushed as soon as the greetings were over.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go see this race.¡±

 Pink 12-03 And Patreon Snippets 5

    Izzy, of course, immediately turned to head for the archway leading to the stands surrounding the track. My hand quickly snapped out to catch her arm, mouth open to say something. But the moment I touched the other girl, she pivoted. Her arm twisted easily out of my grip, and she was suddenly facing me with the hand of that same arm tightly gripping my elbow to lock the joint while her other hand was raised defensively in front of herself. It all happened in an instant.


    Whoa. Uh, yeah, this was a girl who was accustomed to being hit, and had the reflexes to show for it. But even more than that, she obviously knew how to take care of herself. Which just fed into the conclusion that one of her parents was a villain. It made sense that they¡¯d get their daughter self-defense lessons. The way her hand was gripping my elbow to lock it in place wasn¡¯t an accident. If I tried to bend it, a shot of pain would go through my arm. That had to be intentional. So her parents taught her to fight, and she was also jumpy as hell? That¡­ right, yeah, that would make sense if she knew all the trouble and danger her parents could get into. But I¡¯d also been operating under the assumption that Izzy had only just found out about her parents. Or parent. So, now I was even more confused. And I knew that there was one extremely simple answer to this whole thing that I was just missing. It felt incredibly obvious and like it was right on the tip of my tongue. I just couldn¡¯t get that final little piece for this all to make sense. And I had a feeling that once I did know the truth, I was going to feel like a real idiot for not realizing earlier.


    Already flushing with obvious embarrassment, Izzy quickly released my arm even before all of that had finished running through my mind. ¡°Sorry,¡± she blurted, eyes darting toward Amber and Jae of all people. ¡°I just umm¡­ sorry.¡± She finished uncertainly, fidgeting back and forth on her feet while her hands interlocked behind her back as though to keep them away from me.


    Dad was already chuckling. ¡°Hey, no worries, huh? I¡¯m pretty sure Cassie was just trying to stop you from heading off the wrong way. We¡¯re over here.¡± He gestured to a green painted door with ¡®no admittance, authorized personnel only beyond this point¡¯ written on it, as well as an electric lock with a badge reader next to it. A guard beside the door stood silently, giving us a short nod of welcome. He knew our family. And I knew him. His name was¡­ Pete, I was pretty sure.


    Simon was already there, waving a plain white badge in front of the reader. There was a sharp click, and then he pulled the door open. ¡°After you guys.¡± To Pete, he added slyly, ¡°How¡¯s Jim?¡±


    Pete, in turn, smiled with obvious pride. ¡°Made it to varsity soccer this semester.¡±


    While they were talking, Izzy looked over her shoulder with confusion, then turned even more pink than before. ¡°We¡¯re not sitting in the regular stands, are we?¡± she mumbled quietly.


    Right, of course she would assume that we were going to sit in one of those seats. With a small smile, I shook my head with a glance to the others. ¡°Nope, Dad has a reserved box as one of the owners. We¡¯re not here for every race, so he loans it out a lot to other important people. Come on.¡± I gestured to her and to the other two. ¡°You still get a really good view of the race.¡±


    The three girls followed me, as I slipped past Simon (doing my best not to tense up while that close to him) and Pete (waving to the latter) before leading the way up the carpeted stairs on the other side. There was, as always, soft music playing, with air that was noticeably cooler than the area outside. Behind me, Jae, Amber, and Izzy gradually climbed, remarking on the photographs of various racers that lined the walls. They started in black and white at the bottom with the earliest pictures, before gradually turning to first faded, then better and sharper color as the pictures got nearer to the present date.


    Dad was talking from behind, explaining who each person or car was in the various photographs and why they were important. I mostly tuned him out, because I knew the whole story already. I knew all of their stories, considering I¡¯d memorized them by the time I was about seven years old. I still remembered my father holding me on his shoulders as he walked up these same stairs, pointing to the photographs and answering all of my many, many questions.


    It was a memory that almost made me stumble, my grip on the nearby railing tightening. I couldn¡¯t look at those photographs now. I couldn¡¯t think about those memories, of how safe I had felt on my father¡¯s shoulder, how I had been absolutely certain he would never let anything bad happen to me. My father was my hero.


    My father was a superhero.


    My father was a supervillain.


    A monster. He was a monster who controlled all the crime in this city, who let it happen. Who got rich off it happening. He was a man who had been willing to order the death of a teenager who had maybe seen too much. I couldn¡¯t forget any of that. I wouldn¡¯t forget it. Not now and not ever. My father wasn¡¯t a good guy. He was a villain. But he was also my dad. And a superhero. He was¡­ he was¡­


    Fuck. Stop it, Cassidy. Now really wasn¡¯t the time to get into all that. Especially now, of all times. With Izzy, Jae, and Amber right here? Yeah, this was absolutely the worst time to get myself trapped in those thoughts. I had to shove those away and focus on just getting through this day without arousing too much suspicion. Especially given the whole situation yesterday. The last thing I needed now was Dad focusing too much on anything suspicious I said or did.


    Thankfully, watching the race would be an excellent distraction from all of that. It was something that I could throw my full attention at. To that end, I plastered a quick smile on my face once we reached the top of the stairs, where there was a very slightly curved hallway (following the curve of the track) with labeled doors at various intervals. The labels on the doors weren¡¯t numbers, they were names. The names of the people or organizations who owned each of the boxes. How many of them had ordered people to be killed in the past month, I wondered. The answer probably wasn¡¯t zero, even if you took out my family. But it also wasn¡¯t something I should have been thinking about right then. Instead, I gestured while glancing back to Amber, Jae, and Izzy. ¡°We¡¯re down this way, straight across from the finish line and directly under the announcer¡¯s stand. You wouldn¡¯t believe the view you can get from in there. It¡¯s amazing!¡± Trying to shove all those dark thoughts away, I might¡¯ve overcompensated a little, flashing a broad, enthusiastic smile as we reached the room in question. Again, there was a badge reader, just like at the main door. That time, I was ready, already taking my own badge from my wallet (the same badge opened multiple similar places in other arenas, theaters, etc) and brushing it close to the reader. With a click, I tugged the door open and gestured for the others. ¡°Trust me guys, you¡¯re gonna love it.¡±


    Sure enough, the other three went through the door before almost immediately stopping. Peeking through after them, I saw the trio staring around with obvious shock. Amber muttered a quiet curse under her breath as the three took in the room we would be watching the race from.


    It was almost more like a hotel suite, honestly. Straight across from the entrance was a row of very comfortable leather recliners facing a sliding glass door overlooking the racetrack. Just before that sliding door was a step down, and through it was a balcony with another row of seats so that you could sit outside. Those ones weren¡¯t leather recliners, but they were still incredibly comfortable, with space to put your feet up


    And that was just the area where you¡¯d sit and watch the race. Immediately to the right from the entrance was a pool table, with a fully stocked bar, snack fridge, and small kitchenette just beyond it. Slightly to the left of the pool table was a circular wrap-around couch surrounding a large screen television mounted to the wall with various game systems attached to the wall. On the opposite side of the couch, just behind the row of recliners, was an actual arcade-style racing simulator machine. It was an enclosed system shaped like half of a car. You got in, closed the door, and could go through dozens of what amounted to virtual reality racetracks.


    Meanwhile, to the left from the entrance was a doorway into a stunningly spotless bathroom with a full shower, just in case.


    Oh, and if you stepped out onto the balcony and moved to the left beyond the seats, you¡¯d find a full hot tub to settle into so you could watch the race from there. Yeah, it was a whole thing. Our family had bathing suits and towels stored in the bathroom for any time that we wanted to do that. Someone came in after these events to clean everything, so our suits were always clean. Plus there were extras of various sizes. Was it weird to have laundry service attached to your luxury box seats at a racetrack? I felt like that was maybe a little weird.


    Either way, I slipped past the other three while they were standing there gaping. Gesturing toward each area and explaining it, I ended by pivoting back to face them. ¡°The race isn¡¯t for another half an hour, so what do you guys wanna do?¡± I started to ask what Izzy wanted to do, but belatedly corrected to include Jae and Amber so they wouldn¡¯t feel left out or anything.


    Dad, meanwhile, was already standing in the corner of the room deep in conversation on his cell phone. And Simon had stepped out onto the balcony to look down at the track below.


    Jae was actually the first one to find her voice, quiet as it was. ¡°At least you don¡¯t have your own personal full-sized track at home.¡± There was a very brief hesitation before a frown touched her face. ¡°Do you ha¨C¡±


    ¡°Nope, haha, nope.¡± Quickly and maybe a little overenthusiastically, I shook my head. ¡°No way, no personal racetrack at home. We couldn¡¯t figure out a way to fit it in the backyard.¡± I paused, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other before mumbling a little softer, ¡°Not with Mom¡¯s gardens in the way.¡±


    They were staring at me. All three of them. Rubbing the back of my neck as my blush deepened, I quickly tried to change the subject. ¡°Ahaha, ahh, let¡¯s play a game. Who wants to play pool? Come on, I¡¯ll rack them up.¡± Hurriedly, I moved to grab the triangle and arranged the balls in order, trying to ignore the looks they were giving me. It was like trying to distract them from my family¡¯s obscene wealth by offering to play pool in our private luxury box at the racetrack wasn¡¯t working very well or something.


    Amber ended up volunteering to play me while Izzy and Jae checked out the video game selection. As the dark-haired girl took one of the pool cues off the rack and checked it over, she glanced to me before lowering her voice to a quiet whisper. ¡°Hey, uhh, I heard about what happened in the library the other day. You punched Paige?¡±


    I almost dropped my own cue, head snapping up as I coughed despite myself. My eyes glanced toward my father, but he was in the opposite corner of the room, near the hot tub and deep in conversation on his phone. He¡¯d probably forgotten the rest of us were even here. ¡°Wha¨Coh, oh. Um. Sort of? It was just dumb impulse. I was¡­ I was lucky she didn¡¯t tell that teacher what really happened.¡± Even saying it out loud now, I still felt the weirdness of that sentence.


    Apparently, Amber thought it was weird too. ¡°Why not?¡± she asked bluntly. ¡°I mean, why wouldn¡¯t she want to get you in trouble? You guys are¨CI mean you¡¯ve never¨CI mean¡­¡±


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± I confirmed before offering a weak shrug. ¡°And I dunno. Maybe she thinks getting rid of me would make things boring. Or she¡¯s afraid that the school would side with me to¡­¡± I hesitated, glancing toward my father before finishing in a soft voice, ¡°¡­ avoid any legal issues.¡± Yeah, legal issues like my father withdrawing funding.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Amber glanced over her shoulder at my father as well before looking back to me with a weak smile. ¡°Um, at least you didn¡¯t get in trouble. From what Owen said, she had it coming.¡±


    ¡°She usually does,¡± I murmured under my breath before giving a sharp shake of my head. Focus. I really couldn¡¯t afford to drift into thinking about the entire Paige situation right then. Not that that was Amber¡¯s fault. She didn¡¯t know anything about that whole can of worms. Still, I really needed to change the subject. ¡°Here, you break.¡± Taking the triangle away carefully, I stepped back to watch her line up a shot.


    She broke, and we played the game. It was actually a lot of fun, especially once Izzy and Jae abandoned their own game and got involved. Jae was encouraging Amber while Izzy took my side. In the end, we just decided to form pairs. Those two took turns with their shots, and I split mine with Izzy. She was nervous about it at first, but I pointed out that it didn¡¯t really matter who won. Then she settled into it and even seemed to relax a fair bit. Pretty soon, she was joking around with Amber like they¡¯d known each other for months.


    We played several games, mostly evenly, until it was time for the first race to start. Finally, Dad called us over. Not that he really needed to, given the sound of the announcer¡¯s voice being piped through to let everyone know the racers were on their way to the start line. Between that and the loud revving of engines coming from below, yeah, pretty obvious that things were about to get underway.


    We sat in the front row of seats, out on the balcony. Amber was on the right end, with me beside her, Izzy next to me on the other side, and Jae next to her. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly why Amber didn¡¯t sit next to Jae, but that was just how things ended up.


    ¡°You know it¡¯s her birthday in a couple weeks,¡± she murmured to me while we were watching all the cars get into position.


    Distractedly, I asked, ¡°Whose birthday?¡± Was I forgetting someone?


    ¡°Paige,¡± Amber replied. ¡°She¡¯s been sending out invitations to the party.¡± There was a brief pause then, before she dryly added, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you didn¡¯t get one.¡±


    My eyes rolled despite myself. ¡°Must¡¯ve been lost in the mail.¡± Paige¡¯s birthday, huh? I wondered if her imprisoned father was going to make another secret call from Breakwater for the occasion.


    ¡°My stepmother is making me go,¡± Jae put in from the seat next to Izzy. She didn¡¯t sound happy about that fact, though I wasn¡¯t sure if that was more the stepmother part, the Paige part, or the being forced to go to any given party in the first place part. Maybe all of the above.


    ¡°Yeah, Paige¡¯s dad¡¯s supposed to have a lot of pull with agents and Jae¡¯s step-mom still thinks she¡¯s an up-and-coming actress.¡± Amber¡¯s voice was derisive, her head shaking before she added, ¡°Why do you think she hates you so much anyway?¡±


    ¡°Wh¨Cme?¡± I blinked that way, hesitating. A lot of possible answers flashed through my mind, but none would have been helpful toward keeping my own secrets. It was kind of funny to imagine the look on Amber¡¯s face if she¡¯d had any idea what I was thinking, though. ¡°I dunno. She¡¯s just hated me ever since we met in middle school.¡±


    I started to say something else, but stopped because Dad and Simon sat down in the leather recliners behind us to watch the race. My father leaned forward a bit, put his hand on my shoulder, and just smiled when I glanced to him. I returned the smile, before he spoke. ¡°Cass, could you make sure to be home for dinner next Friday? We¡¯ll have a special guest.¡±


    ¡°A guest?¡± I echoed curiously.


    He nodded. ¡°You remember Lincoln Chambers from the LA Times? He¡¯s going to be in town with his family and asked for another interview, so I invited him to dinner. He¡¯ll be bringing his wife and their twins. A boy and a girl, I believe. So, I¡¯d like our whole family to be there.¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°Oh, sure, Dad. I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    He offered me another smile of thanks before leaning back. I turned my attention back to the race, thinking about that reporter. Boy would he have a big story on his hands if he had the slightest idea of who my parents really were. Like, Pulitzer-winning material right there.


    I might¡¯ve stayed focused on that for longer. But as my gaze settled on the cars below, something else caught my eye immediately. It was a golden and black car, with the number 38 on the side. Beside that was the symbol of one horizontal line with three vertical lines coming out of either end and the middle. A diagonal line connected the tip of the left-most vertical line to the inside bottom of the right line, passing through the middle one. Or¡­ I turned my head sideways.


    The E with the line through it. It was the E with the line through it. Eyes widening, I pointed while snapping, ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that symbol?¡±


    It was Simon who leaned forward behind my seat to look that way. ¡°What? Oh, dude, that¡¯s just one of the original logos for Ten Towers. You know, back when there were three of them. It¡¯s supposed to be three skyscrapers all linked together, from ¡®top to bottom.¡¯ They use it for nostalgia or something, I dunno. I think it¡¯s only allowed to be connected to people who were around back in those days.¡±


    The Ten Towers¨Cor rather, the Three Towers symbol. From back when the first three companies had formed up to protect themselves from Fell-Touched attacks. Tocher Pharmaceuticals, Saito Automotive, and Autry Media Technologies. That¡¯s what the symbol meant. But even as I processed that, I remembered where I¡¯d seen the symbol before. Those folders I¡¯d put into alphabetical order when I¡¯d been picking up the room in the Seraph headquarters. In addition to the names, they¡¯d all had various symbols attached. I¡¯d had no idea what the symbols meant, but the symbol on some of the folders was that one right there. Clearly, it meant that the folders with that symbol had some connection to Ten Towers. Like, patients who were part of them or something.


    More importantly, the folders with those symbols were also labeled with a series of numbers. A series of five numbers. Just like the five numbers and symbol that were on those toys.


    It wasn¡¯t a code after all. Or rather, not the kind of code I¡¯d been thinking of. It was a file number.


    The thing I needed to find Bobby was a file in Seraph headquarters, a file about something connected to Ten Towers.


    *******


    $10+ Donators on my Patreon get 500 words per month to put toward any ideas they would like to see, to add to any ideas someone else has, or to save up for later. Here is the next edition of the Summus Proelium requests for those snippets.


    Broadway and Pack


    ¡°You know what you have to do, right?¡± Broadway asked as she and Pack sat in the van shortly after leaving the parking garage they¡¯d taken Paintball, Skip, and That-A-Way to. The pair of La Casa Fell-Touched were several blocks away, parked in a restaurant lot as they watched the lights from the somewhat slim freeway traffic off in the distance.


    ¡°What I have to do?¡± Pack glanced that way. ¡°If you¡¯re gonna say we need to tell Blackjack everything that just happened, I think¨C¡±


    ¡°Pshhh, no, dude!¡± Broadway gave her a look. She had taken off the helmet of her costume, allowing Dani to see the dubious expression on her pale face. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta come up with a better nickname for your girlfriend, cuz you said you called her Compass-Power back there, and that¡¯s really weak.¡±


    ¡°Okay, one, she¡¯s not my girlfriend. She¡¯s an enemy. She wants to put me in prison,¡± Dani insisted. ¡°And two¡­ okay, yeah, that was weak. But it doesn¡¯t matter, because see point one.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh. So you need a better nickname for her.¡± KD had clearly chosen to completely skip over Dani¡¯s second point. ¡°Let¡¯s hear some ideas.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna¨C¡± Giving a long exhale, Dani squinted at the girl beside her. ¡°Fine, umm¡­ Directioneer, Travel-Girl, Carto-Chick, Navigirl, Map Mak¨Cstop looking at me like that, these aren¡¯t real suggestions, I¡¯m just blurting out the dumb things until something good comes to mind.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± KD advised, ¡°because those are really bad.¡±


    ¡°Tuesday, bite her.¡± Dani ordered. The lizard, in turn, simply gave her a sleepy look before settling back onto her leg to nap some more. Exhaling, she continued. ¡°Okay, okay. Serious suggestions. Degrees on a compass. Degrees. Debreeze, fuck, no I¡¯m not calling her that, what the hell is wrong with me? Look, this is harder than it sounds. That-A-Way. Thatta? Way? No, everyone calls her Way.¡±


    ¡°Right, and you want the name to be something special for your special girl,¡± KD agreed, ducking closer to the steering wheel as Dani swatted a hand her way.


    Squinting at her partner warningly, Dani muttered a few more not-really-good name possibilities under her breath. Nothing sounded right. Everything was just dumb.


    ¡°What about a real name that¡¯s twisted to fit her whole¡­ compass power thing?¡± KD finally suggested. ¡°You know, like¡­. Rose? Compass Rose. Or Sue¡­ Sue South- Sue-outh? Ew, gross. West.. Westerly? But that doesn¡¯t¡ª Wow, you¡¯re right, this is hard.¡±


    ¡°Told ya,¡± Pack sniffed before pausing. Her head tilted. ¡°But a real name that plays off her Touched name¡­ there¡¯s Waverly. Or Way¡­. verly. Wayverly.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s better than Carto-Chick,¡± KD agreed.


    ¡°It¡¯s better than Sue-outh too,¡± the other girl retorted with a gesture. ¡°Come on, start this puppy up so we can go home. I¡¯ll think some more on the way.


    ¡°Cuz right now, it¡¯s pretty late, and if we don¡¯t get us and my little friends here some real food soon, I¡¯m gonna start coming up with fun little nicknames for you instead. Like Lizardchow.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible name too,¡± KD breezily replied while pulling the van out of the lot. ¡°Besides, your cute little babies would never eat me.¡±


    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right,¡± Dani admitted.


    ¡°They¡¯re not supposed to get that much sugar.¡±


    *******


    That-A-Way


    ¡°Anything else to report?¡±


    Boy was that ever a loaded question, Amber thought. She stood, still in costume, in the Minority headquarters shortly after leaving Paintball, Skip, and the Fell-Touched girls. In front of her was Brumal, leader of the state-level Star-Touched team known as the Spartans (as opposed to the Federal team known as the Conservators, led by Silversmith).


    Brumal wore what amounted to a dark blue and white army camo uniform, with a matching tactical helmet that left her face covered by a thick interwoven mesh and eyes hidden behind bright blue lenses.


    ¡°Anything else?¡± the teenage girl found herself echoing. In the back of her mind, she thought about what Paintball had said. Traitors. Liars. Villains. Monsters. Some of the people on the supposed good guys side were actually working for that stupid¡­ Ministry. Paintball had specifically said not to trust any of the leaders. He had named Brumal, Caishen, and Silversmith as people not to be trusted. Hell, he¡¯d outright said especially not Silversmith. But did that mean he knew for a fact that ¡®Smith was a traitor or a¡­ a¡­


    Brumal interrupted her thoughts. ¡°You went off patrol route to help Skip, from Ten Towers, trace a potential lead to some small-time drug pushers that might be trying to turn big-time, and nothing else happened?¡±


    Right, that was the story she and Skip had come up with earlier to explain why That-A-Way wasn¡¯t on her assigned route. Meeting the gaze of the older woman while wondering if she too was on the take and getting rich off letting bad guys hurt people in the city, Amber gave a short nod. ¡°She thinks they might¡¯ve seen one of us earlier and got cold feet. But if she gets another lead, she wanted to know if I could help her again. I mean, that¡¯s okay, right? Nothing wrong with helping Ten Towers. We¡¯re all on the same side.¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Brumal confirmed. ¡°Just make sure you keep the people back here advised about where you¡¯re going and who you¡¯re with. We are responsible for what happens if something goes wrong.¡±


    Right, but just how responsible were they for things ¡®going wrong¡¯? Amber very narrowly avoided actually asking that, biting her cheek before forcing herself to nod. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. Um, do you mind if I get out of here? I¡¯ve got homework to do and¨C¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Brumal quickly agreed, gesturing. ¡°Sorry to keep you. Go ahead, I¡¯ll file your report back here. And Way? Good job today. You¡¯re right, working alongside Ten Towers is important. I¡¯d like you to join the Spartans once you¡¯re of-age, of course. But the Towers are good people too.¡±


    Oh, how much easier would that statement have been to agree with before Paintball had dumped all this information on her. Still managing to keep a straight face, Amber nodded absently, murmuring her gratitude and agreement before turning to leave the base.


    She had to get out of here. She had to think. She had to¡­ had to figure out how she felt about all this. Some of the good guys were really bad guys? Or were helping bad guys in exchange for money. Or were just¡­ just¡­ God damn it, Amber wanted to scream. But that might attract just a few questions from Brumal. So she would wait until she was safely away from all this.


    Then she would scream as long and loud as she wanted to.

 Pink 12-04

    Needless to say, it was hard to concentrate on the race after that. I mean, it was a good one, for sure. Even Izzy, Jae, and Amber got into it despite not really being ¡®racing¡¯ type people. They were still totally hooked. But all I could think about throughout all the excitement was that I needed to get back to the Seraph HQ and see those folders again. Was the right one down in the area I¡¯d been cleaning out? If I got there and looked around, would I actually find it? Would it have the answers I needed? Would the answers actually lead me to Bobby, or to something else important that he¡¯d been trying to leave clues or something to? Would the file be something like-


    ¡°Cassie?¡± The small voice interrupted my racing (hah) thoughts, and I blinked over to find Izzy staring at me. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°You look¡­ weird. Do your ribs hurt?¡±


    Before I could respond to that, Amber and Jae both looked away from the race, the former speaking up. ¡°Why would her ribs hurt?¡± She frowned in confusion, adding, ¡°What happened?¡±


    My mouth opened, but again before I could say anything, Simon answered for me instead while reaching over to ruffle the long side of my hair. ¡°Oh, my sweet, innocent little sister who never does anything wrong totally thought it¡¯d be a good idea to go off on her own to try skateboarding in the middle of nowhere and hurt herself on Friday, didn¡¯t she? Then she had to walk home.¡±


    Flushing a little, I managed an indignant little shrug while defensively protesting. ¡°I¡­ I wasn¡¯t exactly in the middle of nowhere, I was just at that half-built water park just outside of town.¡±


    Simon raised an eyebrow, a smirk touching his face as he pressed. ¡°And that place is¡­?¡±


    Shifting back and forth in my seat, I folded my arms and muttered, ¡°In the middle of nowhere.¡±


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Amber exchanged a quick glance with Jae before looking back to me with obvious concern. ¡°Are you okay? What¨Chow did you hurt yourself? Did¨Cwhat happened?¡±


    This was somehow just as awkward as lying to my parents had been. Maybe even more so, since these two didn¡¯t have anything to do with the Touched stuff and were just concerned about me. I squirmed a little uncomfortably before giving them the same general story I¡¯d told before about how I snuck into the place, skated for awhile, and then broke one of the wheels off my board while dropping into an empty pool. I mentioned that my phone broke and that I¡¯d had to walk several miles back into the city in the middle of the night before getting a ride.


    When I was done, Jae shook her head. Her voice was quiet, yet admonishing. ¡°Not smart.¡±


    Wincing, I nodded. ¡°I know, I know. It was dumb. And I paid for it.¡± Glancing over my shoulder to where my dad was sitting, I quietly added, ¡°I¡¯m gonna keep paying for it with the lack of driving.¡± To the confused looks, I admitted what my punishment had been, adding, ¡°So I will absolutely definitely not be skating in the middle of nowhere like that again. All skating in public places for this girl.¡± And I just had to hope that nothing like what had happened yesterday came up again. Or that I came up with a much better excuse for it.


    ¡°Well,¡± Amber put in, ¡°at least you¡¯re okay, you know? That umm, that kind of story could end up worse.¡± Belatedly, the dark-haired girl blanched visibly. ¡°Uh, sorry. That¡¯s probably not helpful.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just glad she made it home,¡± my father insisted. ¡°Cassidy¡¯s safe, and only a little hurt.¡± Pointedly, he added, ¡°But she¡¯ll be very hurt if she pulls anything like that again.¡± His eyes were focused on me intently. ¡°And by that, I mean you¡¯ll be punching yourself because you won¡¯t be able to drive until you¡¯re eighteen.¡± To soften that, Dad winked. ¡°Which is just as much of a punishment for me, because I¡¯ve been waiting to see how good you are at playing chauffeur since you were playing with the toy cars in your diapers, so let¡¯s not have to go that far, hmm?¡±


    Horrified beyond what I could even hope to articulate, I blurted a sharp, ¡°Dad, don¡¯t talk about diapers!¡± My face was red, and I was very pointedly trying not to look over at Jae, Amber, and Izzy. I really didn¡¯t want to know how they were reacting to that.


    With a broad smirk that told me just how intentional all of that had been, Dad casually replied, ¡°Just think of the things I can embarrass you with if you give me reason to again.¡±


    Blanching, I shrank back in my seat and mumbled, ¡°Yes, sir, threat completely received.¡±


    With that, I turned my attention back to the race. And tried not to let myself get too lost in thoughts of what I would find in the Seraph files.


    Because I was pretty sure it was going to take awhile before I could get over there.


    *****


    After the race, we went to dinner as promised. And because it was my dad, dinner was amazing. We brought Amber and Jae with us and went to a steakhouse, and Mom was at the restaurant waiting, since it was family dinner night. Both of my parents made sure everyone ate until we were stuffed beyond all comprehension. Then Mom had desserts packaged up for everyone to take home ¡®to eat in a few hours when you can actually enjoy them.¡¯


    It was dark by the time we dropped those two at Amber¡¯s house. Jae said she¡¯d get a ride home from there. With Simon having taken off with Mom earlier when we left the restaurant for some reason, that just left Izzy and me there with my dad in the back of the car while Jefferson drove us back to the house. I¡¯d never do it, but for just a second I considered what would happen if I asked my father to have me dropped off at the Seraph HQ so I could do some extra work.


    Yeah, bad idea. Just as it would be a bad idea to try to sneak out tonight. I was going to have to wait until tomorrow after school to do anything I needed to do. Which made me really antsy, but what choice did I have? None. I had no choice. All I could do was wait and hope that whatever was actually in that file could wait until I managed to get there and find it.


    Besides, I wasn¡¯t exactly back in top shape yet. That was for sure. The whole outing today had taken a lot out of me. More than I wanted to admit. By the time we got back to the house, my side was complaining and I wanted to lay down for awhile. But no way was I going to admit that I didn¡¯t feel very good. My parents would obviously take any excuse to have me dragged to the hospital for a full range of tests. Or worse, put me on strong painkillers that might leave me loopy enough to say something I really couldn¡¯t afford to say. Not to mention how long my parents might hover over me. No, I was just going to suck it up and get through this, damn it.


    After thanking my dad again for the whole day out, I reassured him that I definitely felt well enough to go to school tomorrow. Because no way was I going to stay home. Not if I was going to successfully sneak out again to get over to the Seraph base.


    Then Izzy and I went upstairs to head for our rooms. She seemed fairly distracted by something, continually glancing out the windows we were passing on the way. Finally, I asked, ¡°You got a hot boyfriend sneaking over to hang out? Cuz you know I would totally cover for you, but we might need to find a way to get him past all the cameras and the rest of the security.¡±


    Poor Izzy did a quick double-take at that, her eyes widening as she stammered, red-faced. ¡°Wha-what? No, I don¡¯t¨CI¡¯ve never, I wouldn¡¯t have¨Cthat¡¯s not, I don¡¯t even li¨Cthat¡¯s n¨Cno.¡± She finally managed, shaking her head back and forth quickly while a sound of protest escaped her.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    I couldn¡¯t help it, a small snicker escaped me, as I took her hand. ¡°I¡¯m just teasing, Izzer. It¡¯s okay. No secret boyfriend, got it. But umm, are you okay? You kinda look like you want to be somewhere else. Which I totally get, even a big place like this gets stuffy when you can¡¯t be on your own for so long.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not¨C¡± After starting with those two words, Izzy stopped. She considered for a second before exhaling. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just¡­ I miss my mom.¡± Her voice was very quiet, and she seemed somehow ashamed of actually saying that, as if it was the worst thing she could have said.


    ¡°Izzy, I¨C¡± Stopping myself, I stared at her for a few long seconds. What was I supposed to say to that, given how little I knew about the situation? Especially given what I suspected. Finally, all I could do was offer a hesitant, ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± God, did I ever wish I had someone I could talk to about my own family. But I couldn¡¯t put that on anyone else.


    With a quick headshake, Izzy too declined. ¡°I¨Cthanks, Cassie. Really, you¡¯ve been so cool. But I can¡¯t talk about it. I¡¯m sorry. I¨C¡± Swallowing, she looked to me with an expression far more serious than I would have expected to see on a twelve-year-old¡¯s face. ¡°I don¡¯t want to lie to you.¡±


    Wow, she had absolutely no idea how well I could sympathize with that. For a moment, I just stared at her before eventually finding my voice. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Izzy,¡± I assured her. ¡°Just¡­ talk to me whenever you can, about whatever you can. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, but I know you¡¯re a really cool person. And you¡¯d talk about things if you could. So¡­ whenever you want to talk.¡± Giving her an encouraging nod, I gestured. ¡°But come on, because in the meantime, there¡¯s a game room up there with our names on it. And I swear, I am gonna kick your butt this time.¡±


    After a brief hesitation and another quick glance to the window that I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Izzy seemed to nod to herself. She muttered something I didn¡¯t catch, before following after me.


    So, the two of us went the rest of the way up to our area and spent a couple hours in the game room. And I was wrong. Though I did win a few matches, Izzy was very clearly the superior player in most of the various games we played on any given system. I wasn¡¯t even letting it happen, she was just that good. It was kind of amazing that her hand-eye coordination was so great.


    In any case, at least it took my focus off the fact that I couldn¡¯t sneak out tonight. It let me distract myself for awhile from everything else that I really needed to do. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t sure what I would¡¯ve done without Izzy there. It would¡¯ve been much harder to convince myself not to try to get out of there tonight, regardless of the risks, that was for sure. As it was, playing there with the other girl for hours was enough to leave me so tired, I couldn¡¯t even think about getting out of the house. I just mumbled something about definitely beating her next time as the two of us stumbled off to our separate rooms. There, I got ready for bed and collapsed in it. It was only barely ten o¡¯clock at night, but that was absolutely okay by that point. I needed all the sleep I could get.


    Tomorrow was going to be a long day.


    ********


    Hah. Long day. Boy was I right about that. I spent the entire time at school ignoring pain in my side, trying not to react every time I felt it because the absolute last thing I wanted was for my teachers to get too interested in any injuries I had. If that turned into a thing with my parents and all, I could kiss goodbye to ever being left alone long enough to be Paintball.


    Plus there was Tomas. He wanted to know what happened to me the other night, in my own words. Apparently he¡¯d gotten a brief one-sentence answer about it Saturday after spending most of the evening before that being terrified about where I was. He¡¯d been staying up Friday night, waiting to get any kind of word. When my parents finally let his know that I was home safe, he¡¯d fallen asleep. On Saturday, his dad just told him I ¡®hurt myself skateboarding¡¯ and he had to wait until today to actually talk to me in person.


    I had apologized for not putting my new phone together and downloading my contacts in time to respond to his texts, but that the weekend had been crazy (to say nothing of the fact that I still needed to put my Touched phone back together).


    We sat together at lunch, along with Amber, Jae, and a few other people who were basically friends (even if I didn¡¯t see them much outside of school) who had heard about me hurting myself from the rumor mill. Everyone wanted to know what kind of dare I¡¯d been trying to complete that time. As if I¡¯d gotten myself hurt because I couldn¡¯t back down from a dare to prove how tough I was like some kind of¨Cokay yeah I could see why they would think that.


    As school was ending, I stood at my locker putting things away. Down the hall when I glanced that way, I could see Amber talking to Paige near one of the stairwells. The two of them seemed pretty deep in conversation, which was¡­ interesting. Finally, they broke apart and Amber headed my way. So, I closed my locker, adjusted the bag on my shoulder (the uninjured side, which still caused a brief shot of pain to run through me), and waited for the dark-haired girl to reach me. ¡°Hey, what was all that about?¡± I asked curiously, trying to keep any suspicion out of my voice. Just because I had a whole thing with Paige going on didn¡¯t mean Amber had anything to do with it. She wasn¡¯t connected to any of what was going on.


    Sure enough, Amber blinked at me uncertainly before realizing. ¡°Oh, you mean¨Cno, sorry. Trust me, Paige and me aren¡¯t suddenly friends. I just got partnered up with her for a Physics thing.¡± Offering me a shrug, she added, ¡°Guess I¡¯m gonna have to work with her for awhile. You know, in the interests of not failing.¡±


    ¡°I can definitely understand that kind of interest,¡± I agreed, as the two of us walked out of the school together. ¡°Still, good luck dealing with¡­¡± My hand waved vaguely. ¡°All of that.¡±


    With a soft chuckle, Amber nudged me. ¡°Thanks. She doesn¡¯t seem so bad now. Pretty sure she¡¯s just got some kind of huge hate-on for you in particular.¡± There was a brief pause before she added a curious, ¡°Sure you don¡¯t have any idea why she¡¯s such a bitch to you?¡±


    A flash of possible answers rushed through my head, none of which I could actually say, given the whole situation. ¡°Nope,¡± I finally managed. ¡°I guess it¡¯s just one of those things.¡±


    ¡°Just one of those things,¡± Amber echoed, not exactly sounding all that convinced. Still, she shook it off and raised a hand. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll survive. It¡¯s not me she hates so much. Maybe I¡¯ll¨C¡± Whatever she was about to say, the girl stopped herself. ¡°Never mind. I¡¯ll catch you later, Cass.¡±


    She waved before trotting off over to where Jae was, and I continued strolling across the sidewalk to reach the lot where Jefferson was waiting with the car. Once I was inside, he pulled smoothly away from the curb with a simple, ¡°Your parents will be in meetings for the rest of the day. They wished me to ask how you¡¯re feeling.¡± As always, his words were crisp and seemingly emotionless, speaking the bare minimum of what he needed to and nothing more. Dad had told me at one point that Jefferson had a mild form of autism. It was hard for him to understand social cues or emotions. That was a big part of why he liked his schedule so much. He was also a very good driver.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I lied, shifting a little in my seat. ¡°Thanks, Jefferson.¡± Was he a villain too? He had to know the truth about my parents, right? He was too connected to everything not to. He drove both of them all over the place and they trusted him far too much. I wasn¡¯t sure about the entire household staff. But if any of them knew exactly what my family was and what they really did, it was Jefferson.


    For a moment, I considered asking him what he knew, if anything, about Bobby, considering the man was my family¡¯s previous primary driver. But considering that was obviously very connected to my lost memories, bringing him up or being curious about him would probably trip a lot of alarms for my family. Alarms I couldn¡¯t afford to trip if I was going to keep everything I knew secret. So, I kept quiet and sat back to watch the streets as we drove.


    Eventually, Jefferson dropped me off. I went in, talked to Simon and Izzy for a bit, took some meds for the pain, then told one of the servants I was going for a walk to stretch my legs and that I would have my phone with me all the time if my family needed anything. No way could I just sit around doing nothing for another afternoon. There was too much I needed to get done.


    So, that said, I headed out. I still wasn¡¯t quite up to Paintballing my way through the entire city. I was going to have to take things slower and easier than that for a bit.


    Instead, I called for an Uber. My first stop would be getting a new cell phone for Touched work. Then I would visit Wren and see how she was doing.


    And try not to spend the whole time obsessing over how many people in my life were secretly supervillains.

 Pink 12-05

    I had a dozen texts and three voicemails from Wren once I tore my replacement phone out of its plastic packaging, set it up, and downloaded my old Touched phone data to it. Mostly they were a three-to-one mix of her being terrified of what had happened to me and her wanting to show me the stuff she¡¯d been working on. Apparently she and Fred had already started moving stuff back to the old shop, and she had some spiffy new defenses she wanted me to see.


    So, I called her up to let the girl know I was on the way and that I was fine. Fine enough, at least, that she really didn¡¯t need to know how sore I felt or how much my ribs hurt if I turned too fast or bent over. Yeah, I wasn¡¯t going to make her even more worried. She was a kid, and was still trying to put her own life together. No way was I going to put something like that on her.


    Wren hurriedly informed me that she and Fred were at the old store right then, and I promised I¡¯d be there soon. After that, it was just a matter of getting another ride over to that general area, using a random roof to (somewhat awkwardly) change into my costume (sans the helmet, which was still back with the damn Scions), then heading over to the pawn shop itself. On the way, I kept a sharp lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Yeah, people weren¡¯t after the vials anymore and most knew that attacking a Tech-Touched on their own turf was a bad idea. Not to mention the fact that very few should have any idea a Tech-Touched lived there. But still, the whole idea made me nervous. I really wanted to tell Wren to give it up. Except this was her dad¡¯s store. There was no way she would just walk away from it, no matter what the potential danger was. Getting her to create defenses was the best I could hope for. Well, that and hoping that if things were actually bad, Fred would insist they leave.


    Stepping through the front door, I found the main floor of the shop looking about the same as it had the first time I was there. It was, of course, still an enormous open space about as wide as the school gym, with dozens of shelves scattered around that were filled with all sorts of seemingly random stuff, while the central third of the space was several feet lower than the rest, with various built-in steps leading down into that pit area.


    The same four glass counters formed the same rectangle around the space where the clerk worked. As I entered, both Wren and Fred were there, busy talking about something. The moment the bell dinged, Wren blurted my name (well, Paintball at least), slid off the counter she¡¯d been perched on, and dashed my way. Two steps into it, the wings popped out of her metal backpack thing and she glided the rest of the way before landing right in front of me. Then I was being hugged tightly. Luckily, I saw it coming and popped an orange circle onto my back for defense so I wouldn¡¯t crumple from the force of it. As it was, I had to grit my teeth tightly, managing a weak, ¡°Hey, Wren. Sounds like you¡¯ve been pretty busy lately, huh?¡±


    Pulling back a bit, the little blonde nine-year-old squinted up at me, very obviously annoyed. ¡°Pretty busy? Pretty busy? You go off and almost get yourself killed and all you have to say about it is that I¡¯ve been busy?!¡± She gave a loud huff, folding her arms. ¡°You¡¯re in trouble.¡± Despite her words, it was obvious that it took a lot for her to sound as stern as she did. The kid was trying as hard as she could to be serious and let me know just how upset she was without too much squeeing and hugging.


    Still, I knew she was right, and had to wince at how much I¡¯d obviously upset her. ¡°Sorry. I guess Pack let you know what was going on then?¡± Obviously, just being scolded by That-A-Way and Pack herself hadn¡¯t been enough. I had to have Wren and her puppy eyes sicced on me too.


    ¡°I was trying to call you and you never answered,¡± she informed me in a sad voice, head shaking. ¡°So I asked Pack if you were okay and she told me what happened.¡± Again, the girl squinted at me. ¡°She said you got in trouble cuz you said you had help but you didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ about the size of it,¡± I confirmed while cringing a little bit. ¡°I definitely learned my lesson, believe me. I won¡¯t do something like that again. If I say I have help, I¡¯ll have help.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± That was Fred, as the man approached. ¡°Cuz I really don¡¯t wanna have another night of sitting up with the kid until someone actually bothers to let us know that you¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°My phone was broken,¡± I mumbled helplessly. ¡°And I had my own parents to¨CI¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry I made you worry, Wren. I¡¯m sorry I made both of you worry. But seriously, I¡¯m okay. And I really want to see what you¡¯ve been doing over here. Are you sure it¡¯s safe to be in this place?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Fred informed me, ¡°I told the kid we couldn¡¯t come back here until she had a fool-proof way of getting us out if anything went wrong.¡± As he said that, the man waved a hand, showing me the watch attached to his wrist. ¡°It¡¯s a teleporter linking this place to the other shop. Something happens, just push the face in and say the command. Then poof, we¡¯re not here.¡±


    Wren showed me her own watch, nodding eagerly. ¡°And I¡¯m working on one for you! That way if you get caught again, you can just teleport away.¡± Squinting pointedly, the kid added, ¡°I¡¯ll hurry and make it faster, cuz you get in trouble a lot.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t wrong, but I still made a huffing noise. I would¡¯ve stuck my tongue out at her, given my lack of a helmet, but that seemed a bit childish at the moment. ¡°Just make sure you guys are safe here first. You can really teleport out as soon as anything happens?¡±


    Her head bobbed up and down quickly. ¡°Uh huh! And there¡¯s another defense too, you wanna see?¡± Even as the girl said that, I could see the mix of eagerness and mischievousness in her eyes. Apparently, whatever she wanted to show me was really funny.


    Glancing to Fred briefly, I waited until he gave a subtle nod before agreeing. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s see.¡±


    With an excited squeaking sound, Wren cleared her throat before loudly declaring, ¡°Intruder defense Alpha-Zero-One engage, ninety percent.¡±


    As soon as she said that, I heard a weird¡­ humming sound. It filled the room, and I started to look around. But then a blur went rushing past me. It was Wren. She went from standing in front of me, to the door behind me, to the counter, back to one of the other shelves, then back to me, then to a shelf on the far side of the room all in just a brief few seconds.


    The same thing happened with Fred, as he vanished into the elevator leading upstairs, then came back, then checked on something at the register, then came to me with something in his hands all before I could so much as raise my hand. He held it up, and I belatedly realized it was an analog clock. As I stared at it, the second hand spun rapidly. In the brief four seconds or so that I watched, about three minutes passed.


    Finally, I saw Wren open her mouth. The sounds she made came out in a rush so fast they didn¡¯t sound like words. At least at first. But finally, the humming sound stopped and I heard the tail end of her saying, ¡°¨C and restore to default security measures.¡±


    Things were back to normal. My gaze snapped around quickly, as I blurted, ¡°Wren, are you screwing around with time stuff?! Are we¨Cwe¡¯re not¨Cyou didn¡¯t¨C¡±


    With a giggle, the younger girl shook her head. ¡°No, see, there wasn¡¯t any time travel or anything. I mean, not like you¡¯re thinking. The defense system targets intruders and makes them slower. Everything else was moving at normal speed. You were just moving and thinking really, really slow so everything around you seemed really fast. See, you were in there for fifteen minutes and to you, it was only about thirteen seconds. That way, if anyone comes in who isn¡¯t supposed to be here and we turn on the defense, we have time to do basically anything. Even call for help if we need to.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    As she finished explaining all that, Wren stared at me eagerly, eyes shining with delight as she blurted, ¡°Isn¡¯t that cool?!¡±


    I didn¡¯t even have to exaggerate my agreement as my head bobbed. ¡°It¡¯s totally cool, Wren. You outdid yourself with this. Nonlethal and super-effective. How long can it keep going like that?¡±


    Squirming a little, the girl admitted, ¡°Only about twenty seconds or so of slow-time. But we¡¯re working on getting the time up and cutting the energy use. And that¡¯s almost half an hour real-time, which is plenty for us to do a lot of things while any intruders are basically frozen, you know? Even if it¡¯s just leaving.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, a lot can happen in half an hour.¡± I gave her a thumbs up that made her grin happily before asking, ¡°So teleporters to escape and this slow-down effect as soon as intruders get in. Can that be automatic or do you have to actually give the command like you did just now?¡±


    It was Fred who answered. ¡°Either-or. Kid set it so we can set it off manually, or tie it to an alarm for whenever the shop¡¯s not open. As long as no one else but us is supposed to be here, if anyone does show up, it slows them down and lets us know what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°And there¡¯s gonna be more!¡± Wren insisted. She was bouncing up and down with excitement. Which, considering her jetpack wings were still out, actually sent her up above my head, then back to the floor with each bounce. It was enough to make me snicker a bit before containing myself. Meanwhile, she was still explaining. ¡°I¡¯ve got ideas about Flingbeams, they¡¯re¨Cerr, wait, I¡¯m not gonna say it yet cuz they might change. Also they¡¯re a surprise. But they¡¯re gonna be cool! No one¡¯s gonna break Dad¡¯s store again. I mean, not without being hurt a lot and stuff.¡±


    ¡°As long as you¡¯re safe,¡± I agreed, glancing to Fred before adding, ¡°I don¡¯t think you being here is exactly common knowledge or anything, but you should still be careful. Especially with Braintrust out there and interested. If anything seems fishy, you jump out of here and worry about details later, okay? Call me, call Pack, call whoever you need to for help.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t have to tell me twice to look after our skins,¡± Fred assured me. The man gave a very slight self-deprecating smile. ¡°Seriously though, what the kid said before, that goes for me too. You¡¯ve done¡­ right by us, even when I didn¡¯t really deserve it. Don¡¯t go getting yourself in hot water like that without help of your own. You uhhh¡­¡± He coughed, sounding self-conscious suddenly. ¡°You¡¯re a good one, so don¡¯t be an idiot and get killed.¡± Belatedly, the man added, ¡°Who¡¯d bankroll the kid¡¯s business without you, huh?¡± He sounded more comfortable then.


    Snorting, I gestured vaguely. ¡°Silly me, I can¡¯t die without making sure Wren¡¯s Nest becomes the best tech shop in the city. Maybe one of you could write a note so I could give it to the next person who tries to stab or shoot me?¡±


    My reward for that was a poke in the stomach from Wren (luckily she didn¡¯t jab higher or I might¡¯ve yelped), as she countered, ¡°What about a new helmet instead? Pack said yours got lost or something, and you don¡¯t have a replacement yet.¡± Her hand waved toward my simple mask. ¡°You weren¡¯t gonna go get into another fight without something to protect your head, were you?¡± There was definite recrimination in her voice at that idea.


    Quickly, I raised both hands while shaking my head. ¡°Nope, no, ma¡¯am. I just didn¡¯t wanna make you wait anymore. I was gonna go get a new helmet after this, before I¡­ umm, do the next thing on my list.¡± After defusing that quickly, I blinked before adding, ¡°Wait, new helmet?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not super, super special like the boots,¡± she lamented. ¡°I didn¡¯t have time to do that much with all the stuff I was making for the shop. But it¡¯s still something! And I¡¯m totally gonna improve it later, in different versions, I swear.¡± With that, she turned and launched herself into the air and clear across the room, soaring over a dozen random shelves to reach the far side of the central counter, where she started digging through a few different bags.


    While she was gone, Fred glanced to me. His voice was quiet. ¡°You seen a doctor about those ribs?¡± When I shot him a quick, surprised glance, he snorted. ¡°You¡¯re good at hiding things from the kid. But I saw how you reacted when she hugged you, and that poke. I¡¯m not gonna scare her, just¡­ you saw someone who could take care of it, right? If not, I think I can¨C¡±


    ¡°I saw someone,¡± I hurriedly assured him. ¡°A doctor, I mean. It¡¯s¨Cit¡¯s a long story, one I can¡¯t get into. But he looked at me and¡­ and it¡¯ll be okay.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°Um, thanks. You know, for caring.¡± I knew the whole thing sounded awkward. It felt awkward. Still, it was the best I could do.


    Before Fred could respond to that, Wren was back. She had, as promised, a helmet in her hands. It looked almost identical to my last one, with the front part that could be pushed up out of the way while still leaving the secondary visor in place across my eyes. This helmet, however, had what looked like two small headlights built into either side of it, facing forward. It also had a little speaker grill bit built into the front (the part that could be pushed up out of the way when I opened the helmet).


    Wren quickly explained while handing the helmet over. ¡°See the volume thing on the left side? You can push that up to project your voice really loud. You know, if you need to shout over people or call out to someone. It¡¯s like a megaphone. And the lights are for when it¡¯s dark and you don¡¯t want to use the night vision.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow (which was dumb considering she couldn¡¯t see it anyway), I asked, ¡°Night vision?¡±


    The kid¡¯s head bobbed up and down so fast I thought it might fall off. ¡°Uh huh! Of course there¡¯s night vision, what kinda amateur do you thi¨Cnever mind.¡± Giggling despite herself, she informed me, ¡°there¡¯s night vision and thermal vision, you just have to say ¡®night vision engage or night vision disengage¡¯ or ¡®thermal vision engage and disengage¡¯ while you¡¯re wearing it. You can whisper it too. Or touch that button there right next to the main visor for three seconds, then let it go for night vision and five seconds then let it go for thermal vision. Then touch it again to go back to normal.¡±


    Turning the helmet over in both hands, I smiled like an idiot before managing, ¡°Wren, that¡¯s really cool. I didn¡¯t¨CI mean I don¡¯t¨CI mean thanks.¡±


    It was her turn to blush a bit, squirming in the air (she was hovering about a foot off the ground) before hurriedly explaining, ¡°That¡¯s not all. There¡¯s one more thing. Put the helmet on and pull the front down.¡±


    So, I did as she asked. The helmet fit snugly in place, and I slid the front part down, making it lock in place before giving her a thumbs up. ¡°All good so far.¡±


    ¡°Okay!¡± With clear excitement, Wren explained, ¡°Now say, ¡®Map me, then give an address or a request, like ¡®nearest McDonalds.¡¯¡±


    Considering that briefly, I settled on, ¡°Map me the Henry Ford Museum.¡±


    As soon as I said that, a few images appeared on the visor in front of my face. At the bottom, which I could only read by focusing my eyes that way, were the words Henry Ford Museum and an address. In the top right corner of the visor was an arrow pointing me in the right direction, along with a thing telling me how many kilometers away I was.


    Wren pushed on quickly. ¡°The arrow appears on the side you need to turn to, or right at the top if you just need to go forward. You can say ¡®dim map¡¯ to make it go away so you can focus, then ¡®raise map¡¯ to bring back the same thing without asking directions again. Or you can say ¡®end map¡¯ to turn it off completely.¡±


    ¡°Wren, this is¡­¡± Swallowing hard, I leaned over to hug the girl as tightly as I dared. ¡°Thanks. This is awesome. Seriously. Between this and the shoes, you¡¯re really decking me out.¡±


    With a clearly self-conscious giggle, Wren insisted, ¡°It¡¯s nothing big. I can do better. I will do better. You know, with more time, and¡­ and everything. I¡¯ll make it better.¡±


    ¡°This is enough for now, I swear.¡± Smiling, I nudged the girl while releasing her. ¡°Really, take care of your shop and all that. You¡¯re just¡­ you¡¯re awesome. Thanks.¡±


    After that, I stuck around for another twenty minutes or so, just hanging out and making sure Wren knew how grateful I was. And, of course, reassuring her that I really was okay. With a promise to check in soon, I excused myself. It was time to go visit the Seraph base and hopefully find out just what the hell was in that file once and for all.


    And hey, with this fancy new helmet, at least I wouldn¡¯t get lost.

 Pink 12-06

    After reaching the Seraph base, I paid a brief visit with Matt Orens, the guard whose son I had agreed to make a storybook for. I let him know that I was still working on that after a bit of an interruption, but that I would get it to him as soon as possible. He said he understood how busy Touched could get, and that I should take my time to make sure it was good rather than rush it just to get it to him sooner. He wanted a good present for his son, not something haphazard. So, I promised to make sure it was as good as possible before excusing myself to head inside.


    Tricia Peppernickle, the elderly lady who had been behind the desk of the administrative building, wasn¡¯t there. Actually, it didn¡¯t look like anyone was behind the desk when I entered.


    ¡°One moment, please!¡± a male voice called through one of the open doorways nearby. As I glanced that way, the voice added, ¡°Apologies, I shall be prepared to assist you forthwith!¡±


    ¡°Oh umm.¡± I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s okay, take your time. It¡¯s not urgent or anything.¡± Right, I was only there to help clean up a mess to work off my own crime, and also to secretly snoop around to find out the meaning of that file number that had secretly been written on those toys in Bobby¡¯s cabin. Nothing all that important. Also, forthwith? Who the heck used language like ¡®forthwith¡¯?


    As promised, it didn¡¯t take long for the voice in the other room to finish up whatever he was doing. I heard a filing cabinet slide closed, then there was a rush of sound that made me look that way in time to see a small black shape come flying out of there in a flurry of rapidly flapping wings that made me jump back in surprise, a soft gasp escaping me.


    The shape landed on the counter, and I realized what was going on. Duh. It was Lucent, the Touched-Raven who was part of the Seraph. He¡¯d been a normal bird before, just as any Touched-Human, he¡¯d touched one of those special orbs. Any animal who became Touched automatically got human-level intelligence along with their powers. The level of that intelligence seemed to vary somewhat both randomly and based on the animal itself (as did their resulting personalities). In Lucent¡¯s case, from what I¡¯d heard, he was very intelligent. Probably as a result of being part of a species that was pretty fucking smart to begin with.


    It was the first time I¡¯d seen him up close, given he tended to try to avoid the cameras. He looked like a normal (though quite handsome as far as they went) raven with sleek black feathers and a piercing dark gaze as he perched there on the counter and stared at me. A small anklet was attached to one of his feet, and he had what looked like a sort of white¡­ sheath over his beak, with a couple lights on it. As he stared at me, the lights glowed a bit while that same voice emerged from a couple small speakers at the end of the beak sheath. ¡°Aha! You are the hero known as Paintball, yes? It is a fine pleasure and honor to converse with you at last!¡±


    Everything that came out of him sounded so¡­ excited. He seemed genuinely happy and enthusiastic. It was pretty charming, and I found myself smiling immediately behind my helmet. ¡°Oh, uhh, hi. Lucent, can I¨Cis it okay if I call you Lucent?¡± I asked a bit awkwardly, unsure of how this sort of thing was supposed to go. Was it rude that I kept staring at him like this? Probably. But come on, he was a talking (even if the Tech-device was doing that part) bird!


    ¡°I quite hope you will, Sir Paintball!¡± came the crowed (ravened?) response. Somehow, I could almost see the amusement in those dark eyes as the bird gave a sharp, human-like nod. ¡°It is, after all, my name. ¡®Twould be quite the inconvenience to have to recall some other moniker to respond to for every person who wished to call my attention.¡± There was a brief, clearly thoughtful pause before he added, ¡°Though I have been referred to by a good number of far less dignified monikers before and after my ascension, I prefer this one by a substantial margin, I must say.¡±


    Quickly nodding, I promised, ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t call you anything bad or¨CI mean, yeah, Lucent. It¡¯s Lucent, got it. Um.¡± Hesitating, I reached out carefully, raising my hand and extending a single finger toward him, trying to somehow make it look like the offered shake I intended it as and not just like I was pointing at him. Which wasn¡¯t easy. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, sir.¡±


    The raven¡¯s head tilted sideways, then I heard a sound that I belatedly realized was a soft chuckle. He leaned forward, beak parting to take my finger gently in it. I felt very slight pressure as he bobbed down once before releasing my finger. ¡°Quite!¡± came the enthusiastic agreement, punctuated by an actual cawing sound directly from the bird rather than the beak device. ¡°I¡¯ve heard such impressive things for a new young hero such as yourself. You have already become a true inspiration in such a short time, particularly to still-maturing hatchlings.¡±


    Finding myself blushing under the raven¡¯s praise, I shrugged helplessly. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. Plus, you know, I did sort of break the law and temporarily steal from you guys. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°A small crime for the greater good,¡± Lucent assured me. ¡°While you should certainly be prepared to make your token payment for it, your intentions were sound and just. I, for one, thank you for the work you did to save that child¡¯s life, regardless of her father¡¯s actions and choices.¡±


    ¡°Oh, umm¡­ thanks.¡± Shifting on my feet awkwardly, I asked, ¡°Are you sure I didn¡¯t pull you away from anything important? I just came to do some more of that whole working off my crimes thing.¡± Honestly, I was torn right then. I really did need to get in there and find that file. But talking to an intelligent bird was also pretty damn cool. I had a lot of questions about bird things and how wild animals worked, but all of them sounded way too personal to get into right away.


    From the way his head tilted the opposite direction from before, I had a feeling Lucent was quite aware of all the questions I wanted to ask. He assured me, ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve done quite enough in there for now. Come, I shall escort you. Ah, that is, if you don¡¯t mind my presence on your arm?¡±


    After a brief hesitation, I belatedly realized what he meant, and quickly held my arm out, elbow turned to offer a perch for him to land on. ¡°Oh! Yeah, sure.¡± I tried to sound casual about the whole thing, while inwardly squealing about the handsome and brilliant raven, and how awesome this entire situation was turning out to be. Seriously, I was talking to a freaking raven! An intelligent raven, who was charming and noble and everything. There were some definite upsides to this entire Touched situation, that was for sure.


    With a quick hop and one brief flap, Lucent landed on my outstretched arm. ¡°Tally-ho!¡± he called before his head turned to look at me. ¡°Ahem, apologies, Sir Paintball. I occasionally excite myself.¡± He said it with a hint of amusement and self-deprecation. ¡°It is quite thrilling to meet new people whom I have immediate respect for.¡±


    Shaking my head, I hurriedly assured him while turning to walk, ¡°Oh, it¡¯s really not a big deal. Really. It¡¯s just cool to meet someone like you. I mean a bird that¨C¡± And then, in my distraction through all that, I accidentally walked almost directly into the side of the open doorway I¡¯d been trying to pass through. It wasn¡¯t hard or anything, just a bit of a bump. But it was right on my injured side, and still enough to make me yelp, doubling over a bit as my hand quickly moved to grab my ribs. It was the same arm that I¡¯d been using to hold Lucent, forcing him to fly up and away to land on top of the open door. Oww, oww. For a second, I didn¡¯t even think about anything else. I couldn¡¯t think about anything else. The only thing I could focus on was the rush of pain through my side. I hadn¡¯t braced myself for that or anything. God damn it, ow.


    It passed fairly soon. But not soon enough. When I lowered my hand and blinked up to the top of the door, Lucent announced, ¡°Sir Paintball, I have requested the presence of medical personnel. Please take a seat there until they arrive to look you over.¡± His head bobbed to indicate the nearby chairs.


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked that way before hurriedly shaking my head. ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m okay. I mean I¡¯ve already seen a doctor with my family. My ribs got hurt, but it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Those piercing, dark eyes seemed to stare through me as Lucent flatly asked, ¡°And are your parents aware of your clandestine heroic activities? Do they know precisely how you were injured, by what, and if there may be additional complications due to it?¡±


    Hidden behind the helmet and mask, my mouth fell open, then shut, as a blush creeped across my face. ¡°Um. Not exactly,¡± I admitted weakly, staring at the dark bird perched above my head.


    Lucent gave a quick nod, a firm caw escaping him before the lights on the beak-cover flashed along with his voice. ¡°As I suspected. And even if the injury has been adequately looked after despite the vast chasm between what that poor physician knows and the truth, you are still out and about in your Touched identity. Best to have it taken care of right now, before something happens to exacerbate it.¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Taken care o¨C¡± Belatedly, I blurted, ¡°Patchwork! I¨Cshe said I could pay for healing and she¡¯d do it. How¡­¡± I felt like slapping my own forehead through the helmet, but that didn¡¯t seem like a good idea. Especially given the way the pain in my side kept flaring up with every small motion I made. ¡°How¡¯d I forget about that?¡± Seriously, it had entirely slipped my mind that I could have called her for help. Hell, I might¡¯ve been able to get her to fix me up before I even went home the other night. Though, on the other hand, being injured had sold my story about what happened, and might¡¯ve stopped my parents from throwing a harsher punishment at me. Hmm.


    Before the bird could respond to that, a Latino guy in a blue medic uniform with short sleeves and intricate arm tattoos came through the other door, the one leading outside that I had entered through. ¡°Alrighty, what do we have here?¡± He gave a winning smile before gesturing. ¡°Hey there, Paintball. Heard there was some kinda medical alert up here?¡±


    Oh. At that moment, the thought occurred to me that I might not want some guy I didn¡¯t know feeling up my side to check how my ribs were. I didn¡¯t exactly have the world¡¯s largest chest, to say the least. As plenty of people at school, including Paige, had always been more than happy to remind me. As evidenced by my ability to pose as a boy wearing these coveralls. But I wasn¡¯t totally flat either, and if some guy started pushing his hand against my stomach and side, pushing the costume flat against my¨Cright. Yeah. That was probably a bad idea for my secret.


    Somewhat awkwardly, I stammered, ¡°O-oh, no, it¡¯s okay. I um, I had a doctor look at it before, but I forgot about Patchwork. She said I could pay her to fix me up sometimes and I don¡¯t¨Cum, I don¡¯t mind doing that. You know, if she¡¯s not busy. Or I could just wait. No big, I mean I made it here, and I really doubt I¡¯m gonna suddenly get into a big fight or something in the middle of Seraph headquarters, right? Haha¡­ ha¡­¡± Trailing off, I squirmed a little, telling myself to shut it.


    From the look that the medic guy and Lucent exchanged, they definitely noticed something strange about how I was acting. Which was totally strange, because I¡¯d been so cool and smooth about the whole thing. How ever did they pick up on my super-subtle reaction?


    Still, the medic didn¡¯t push things when I was obviously uncomfortable. He did introduce himself as Max, asked me what happened (I told him a bad guy hit me with some kind of Tech weapon) and said that Patchwork was on her way up. He asked how it felt, if I was having trouble breathing or had been having such trouble earlier, where exactly it hurt, what the doctor who had looked at me had said, and so on. But he didn¡¯t touch me, and stayed perfectly respectful. I had a feeling these guys were accustomed to dealing with people with plenty of secrets and/or trauma.


    It didn¡¯t take long for Patchwork to arrive. As before, she came through one of the interior doors, dressed, as always, in her costume of a black mesh shirt over green chest armor, black leather pants, motorcycle boots, and a green visor that covered the upper half of her face. Her hair was still short, spiky, and green.


    ¡°The fuck, man?¡± she demanded upon seeing me. ¡°You go and get yourself busted up already? What, were you just waiting for an excuse to go a few rounds with Cu¨¦lebre or something?¡± As soon as she said it, the woman smacked her own forehead. ¡°The fuck am I saying, you went after that cocksucker twice before we even met. I must¡¯ve been outta my goddamn mind when I offered to play hero bandaid for you.¡± Despite her words, she was clearly teasing. At least, I was pretty sure she was teasing. Mostly.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I mumbled, flushing a bit. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to get hurt, trust me. And I can totally pay you. Or wait if you¡¯re busy, or¨C¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Don¡¯t you know how hard it is to bitch about having to do my job when you¡¯re so fucking ¡®nice¡¯ about it? Takes all the fun out of the situation.¡±


    Blinking a couple times, I hesitantly asked, ¡°You¡­ have fun yelling at people about healing them?¡±


    The toothy grin she gave me was almost feral. ¡°Everyone¡¯s gotta get their jollies somehow.¡± Sobering, the woman added, a touch more quietly, ¡°I see plenty of bad shit out there, kid. Fucking with people like you, the ones who don¡¯t have half their body ripped open, that¡¯s how I keep going. Like I said, everyone¡¯s got their own ways. But seriously, don¡¯t be such a fucking martyr about it, kid. Someone¡¯s giving you shit you don¡¯t deserve, you throw right back at ¡®em. You got hurt being a hero, out there helping people. Someone like me starts giving you shit, don¡¯t be a meek little bitch about it, tell that piece of shit to fuck off.¡± She punctuated those last two words by smacking the back of her right hand against her left palm hard enough to make the sound echo through the room. ¡°Get it?¡±


    ¡°I think you just called yourself a piece of shit,¡± I pointed out a bit mildly before nodding. ¡°But uh, other than that, sure. Got it. Stand up for myself.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight.¡± Stepping over to me then, Patchwork asked what was wrong. When I told her, she touched my side. I tensed a bit, but her hand was fairly low. After feeling the injury gently, she agreed with Dr. Roev, but said she could fix it easily. Which she did, simply by calling Max the medic over. Touching one hand against his chest, she copied the healed state of his ribs, then touched my side once more and transferred it to mine.


    Oh my God. The relief was instantaneous. I almost cried. Only when the pain was gone did I fully realize just how much it had lowkey been omnipresent. Sure, it had only actively and consciously hurt when I moved too fast, twisted around, or whatever. But there had been a constant low-ache that made it impossible to be fully comfortable no matter what I was doing. Now, that was gone. I felt totally normal again.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± I blurted, ¡°I could kiss you.¡±


    ¡°Try it, and I¡¯ll triple your fucking fee,¡± came the snapped retort, followed belatedly by, ¡°¡­ make that quadruple.¡±


    ¡°Ouch,¡± I managed.


    ¡°Now, now,¡± Lucent piped up, ¡°be nice to the poor lad, Lady Patch.¡±


    ¡°Told you before, bird, I ain¡¯t no lady.¡± Squinting up at the intelligent corvid briefly, Patchwork then turned her attention back to me. ¡°Back to my payment. You ahhh¡­ shit, you got twenty bucks, kid? Cool if you need to get back to¨C¡±


    I immediately unzipped one of the coverall pockets, dug around inside to find the wad of cash there, carefully extracted a single bill from what I¡¯d brought along for getting a new phone and costume pieces (without showing just how much was in there), and handed it over. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want you to have to come break my legs for not paying. Then I¡¯d have to pay you even more for healing them.¡±


    For a moment, the woman squinted at me. Then she gave a short, sharp laugh before shaking her head. ¡°You¡¯re okay, kid. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ve got other shit to do.¡±


    She left, taking Max with her. After that, Lucent hopped from the door to my offered arm once more, and we walked together down the hall. I input the guest code that Patchwork had given me, thanked Lucent for the escort (and for talking to me), then got to work in the room once more.


    Or at least, I started to work. I did that just long enough to make sure I was really being left alone for the time being. Then I took a moment to quickly and quietly look through the large stacks of files and folders I¡¯d already put together before that were waiting to go into the cabinets.


    Okay, so first I had to locate a folder with a name ending with that original Ten (Three at the time) towers symbol. Right before that would be a four. And the first four digits were either six, two, three, nine, or three, nine, six, two. One of the toys had had a six and a two on it, the other had had a three and a nine. So that was what I needed. A folder with those five digits, in one of those two potential orders, followed by the Three Towers symbol.


    Granted, there was always the possibility that I¡¯d run into both of those. But somehow I doubted it. And if I did, I¡¯d just figure out through context which one was right. Hopefully.


    It wasn¡¯t an issue, as it turned out. After about forty minutes of looking (mixed with actually doing the job I was supposed to be doing), I found the folder in question, with Six-Two-Three-Nine-Four, followed by the symbol. As soon as I found it, a sound of excitement escaped me, before I hurriedly glanced around. Nothing. No one was here. Sobering, I took a moment to collect myself before opening the folder to see what the hell Bobby had left that secret code for.


    The folder was fairly thin. There wasn¡¯t much in there. It looked like a medical file for an incident five years earlier. The patient was a Jane Doe, an estimated twelve-year-old girl who was brought into Seraph medical by a couple Ten Towers Star-Touched for immediate care. According to the handwritten notes in the file, the girl was found unresponsive next to three dead bodies in an alley. She was alive and conscious, but in some kind of vegetative state, likely a result of trauma. The doctor noted that within ten minutes of her arrival, she apparently snapped out of the state¡­ sort of. Apparently she kept repeating two sentences over and over again, one with two words, the other with four words.


    The first sentence was ¡®Find Cassidy.¡¯


    The second was ¡®Cassidy will help me.¡¯


    Staring at the words on the file, I felt a chill run through me. Cassidy. Me. There was no question. None. With a shaking hand, I turned the paper to look behind it. Nothing. Wait, no, there was a photograph, like a Polaroid or whatever. It was stuck to the back of the paper. Gingerly, I tugged the photo away and looked at it. The picture was of the patient who had repeatedly begged these doctors to ¡®find Cassidy¡¯ and that ¡®Cassidy will help me.¡¯ And the girl in that picture was instantly recognizable, even if she was several years younger than she was now.


    Paige.


    It was Paige.

 Pink 12-07

    Owww, owwww! My head. Fuck, god damn it! Yeah, the next few minutes after I saw those words weren¡¯t fun. I held my head, grimacing and whimpering through the pain, as flashes of¡­ of something worked their way through my mind repeatedly. Flashes of a van? A van. Why was I seeing a van?


    Find Cassidy. Cassidy will help me.


    What in the living fuck was that supposed to mean? Why would Paige Banners say that once, let alone repeatedly? How did she¡­ what¡­ why would¡­ Why? Just why? Once I¡¯d recovered from the rush of pain in my head, that single question and variants of it echoed through my mind for hours, as I worked in a daze to clean up more of that room. I couldn¡¯t just take off the moment I found that file, naturally. That would¡¯ve looked just a bit suspicious (not to mention being wrong considering I was supposed to be working on this to make up for temporarily stealing from them). Still, I couldn¡¯t actually focus on anything I was doing and just went about the work barely noticing the specifics of it. I felt even more lost.


    Spending those hours dully and mechanically moving files around and scrubbing things while obsessively thinking about the Paige situation didn¡¯t really help all that much. I still had no idea why she would have asked for me or what she thought I could¡¯ve done. Or why she acted like such a¡­ bitch to me the moment we supposedly met in middle school. Because this had definitely been before that. Paige Banners knew me before I supposedly met her in school.


    Finally, I figured I¡¯d been there long enough and stopped working. By the time I got out to the front area, Tricia was there. The elderly woman greeted me happily, said she¡¯d heard I had the chance to meet Lucent, and offered me a couple cookies from a tupperware behind her desk. I thanked her and said a few more words, but honestly I really wasn¡¯t paying much attention. As soon as possible without being overtly rude, I excused myself and got out of there quickly.


    Once I was out of the Seraph place, I made my way to the roof of a building and just sat down, took my helmet off, and put my still-masked face against my hands. Fuck. Fuck. What did all this mean? What did all of it mean? Why was Paige asking for me? Why did she think I could help her? Why did she suddenly hate me after we met at school? What did all of that have to do with that Anthony Tate kid? Why did Bobby have a secret code on those toys that led to a file all about Paige Banners being found in an alley in some kind of catatonic state or something, next to three dead bodies? How did all of it fit into my lost memory? What picture was this puzzle?


    Right, okay, I could work out some of it if I just stopped freaking out so much. Take the whole thing one step at a time, right? I¡¯d been focused on the shocking revelation that Paige Banners asked for my help, that she¡¯d basically pleaded and begged for them to contact me. Because there was no way that was just some other Cassidy. That would be too much of a coincidence.


    The point was, I¡¯d been reeling from that and stopped really focusing properly. I just had to take this whole thing from the top. First, Paige clearly knew me before I remembered us meeting. The only two possibilities for that I could think of were A: she knew about me enough to ask for me but we¡¯d never met, just as I¡¯d always thought. Or B: I knew her before I remembered knowing her, but that memory had been erased from my mind just like Anthony had been.


    It had to be B. Honestly, that was really the only option that actually made sense given everything I knew. A was technically an option, but I only included it in my thoughts to be thorough. But I shoved it aside for the time being to focus entirely on option B. And then I just sort of let the realization of B¡¯s implications wash over me for a few silent moments, still keeping my face against my hands while sitting alone on that roof in the early evening sunlight.


    I knew Paige before, just like I¡¯d known Anthony. That was the only real answer. I knew her. And not only did I know her, she knew me well enough to tell the authorities that I could help her when they found her catatonic surrounded by several dead bodies in an alley. She¡¯d wanted my help. She¡¯d begged them to have me help her. We had been¡­ we had to have been¡­ friends?


    Fuck. That was the part that made all of this so hard for me to accept. Friends? Paige and I had been friends? Close enough friends for her to beg for the authorities to find me back then. But how? How could I have been friends with Paige fucking Banners when we were children?


    Obviously, my friendship with Paige (I just had to accept that it was a thing and move on) had been erased, just like my friendship with Anthony had been. For whatever reason, everything I knew about both Anthony Tate and Paige Banners was erased. To figure this out, to really understand and get anywhere, I was going to have to accept that fact. I had been friends with Paige at some point and my memory of being friends with her had been taken away from me.


    Okay, with that accepted at least tentatively, what next? Paige. This whole thing had happened five years earlier. Both her being found and asking for me and the death of Anthony and his parents happened five years ago. That wasn¡¯t a coincidence either, and it almost certainly meant those two memories, of Anthony and of Paige, were erased for the same reason, right?


    I didn¡¯t think that was a stretch. Both incidents being five years earlier and my memories of both being erased¡­ yeah. I¡¯d ¡®met¡¯ Paige shortly after that, in the seventh grade. That I remembered. I definitely remembered how much she¡¯d obviously hated me from the very start, how she¡¯d made fun of me for looking like a little boy. Not helped by the fact that I had been skipped forward past the first grade. So in seventh grade, I should have been in sixth. And I would¡¯ve been small for a sixth grader. Which meant¡­ yeah. Paige had basically been the ringleader of kids who taunted me about all that from the very first day we (supposedly) met.


    But why had she acted like we didn¡¯t know each other? Why had her attitude about me changed so thoroughly between the time that she begged for the authorities to find me just months earlier, and when we ¡®met¡¯ in the seventh grade, after she had apparently been adopted by the Banners? Was it for the same reason that I didn¡¯t remember her? Did her memory get erased too? Or did she think that I was suddenly ignoring her? Had she spent all this time not knowing that my memory was erased and I had no idea who she was? Was she pissed off because I didn¡¯t help her when she¡¯d needed it, because I hadn¡¯t been there when she asked for me?


    No. No, that didn¡¯t make sense, right? Either her memory was erased or she knew that mine was, otherwise she would¡¯ve approached me. She would have asked me why I wasn¡¯t there for her, why I¡¯d ignored her or whatever she might¡¯ve thought happened. She would have brought it up. If she remembered me and thought I abandoned her or whatever, she would have used that as part of her reasons for why I sucked. And it wasn¡¯t like she would¡¯ve had a hard time convincing people of it. I was a little rich girl. She easily could have used me supposedly ignoring her when she needed help to turn people against me, even if she didn¡¯t give specifics.


    But it never came up. She never even implied that we¡¯d known each other before, as far as I could remember. Not that my memory was exactly the best witness in this whole situation, but still. She didn¡¯t make a thing out of it. Which didn¡¯t make sense unless she either lost her memory too, or knew that I had and deliberately chose not to remind me of it.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The problem was, I had no idea which of those was right. Why would she not talk to me about any of what happened if we used to be close enough friends for her to ask the authorities to find me. And not just ask, but repeatedly ask. According to that file, asking for my help was basically the only thing young Paige would do.


    I¡¯d used my phone to scan the papers in the file, so I could look through it later. But honestly, I didn¡¯t know what else I could get out of it. Not without knowing more. Maybe the names of the Ten Towers people who had found Paige to begin with could be useful? But even if I tracked them down, what was I supposed to say to them? What was I supposed to ask? That was a whole conversation that I had no idea how to even start.


    So yeah, I was still really confused. And I had to get home, because I didn¡¯t want my parents to start to worry about me. I was going to have to play this easy and safe over the next few days. Especially considering I was planning on seeing if That-A-Way and Pack could meet the next evening to talk about¡­ all that stuff.


    Right. Time to go home for now. I could figure all this out later. Hopefully.


    ********


    ¡°Okay then!¡± The two words were accompanied by the sound of a heavy rolling door being shoved upward along its track. That-A-Way, gripping the handle as she held the door up just above head level, gestured. ¡°You wanted privacy, so here¡¯s some privacy.¡±


    It was the next evening, after Tuesday family dinner with my parents, Simon, and Izzy. I¡¯d managed to contact both Pack and That-A-Way, arranging to meet here at this old storage yard away from prying eyes and ears. Apparently That-A-Way knew the owner and that the cameras in this back area hadn¡¯t worked in months. He didn¡¯t have enough customers to fill up these sheds, so he hadn¡¯t bothered to fix the security for them. As long as we stayed back here away from the management office, we¡¯d be safe. Especially inside one of the storage units.


    Maybe it was a little bit of overkill, but for the things I needed to talk to these two about, I was totally cool with being too paranoid. If there even was such a thing in this kind of situation.


    Standing a bit to the side with her cage full of lizards at her feet, Pack gestured for me to go ahead. ¡°This is your show, Paintboy. So you first. I¡¯m not exactly jumping for joy about sneaking around behind the backs of the people who¡¯re supposed to be part of my team. But if you¡¯re right about some mysterious secret society skimming money off the top, I wanna know about it.¡±


    Taking a breath, I nodded before stepping into the storage unit. Pack and That-A-Way followed me in, before the latter pulled the door shut. We were in darkness for a moment, then Way found the light switch and flipped it on. Now we were alone in this almost empty unit. There was a broom, a random metal pipe, and a few other bits of trash lying scattered along the floor in this place. But it was about as close to completely alone and safe as we were likely to get.


    Turning to the other two, I told them about the mall base again. I explained about how I¡¯d noticed someone I recognized from the night I¡¯d gotten my powers (leaving out that the person in question was my brother) and followed him to that door. I mentioned distracting the guy guarding it, and how I¡¯d gotten into the hallway, seen the security pad on the inner door, then hid before listening as the guy I¡¯d recognized had the spat with that other guy about being paid. I explained the details about the whole ¡®Ministry tax¡¯ as far as I understood it.


    ¡°He said they pay ten percent of the take from any job done in the city,¡± I informed the other two. ¡°Just for permission to operate in the city. Then it¡¯s another twenty percent for the patrol schedules of heroes in the city for the day of the job. Apparently it¡¯s more than that if the Ministry directly intervenes. The Ministry guy said that they knew exactly how much whatever these biker dudes took was worth, and that thirty percent was forty-six thousand.¡±


    ¡°Wait, a biker dude?¡± That-A-Way frowned. ¡°Was he like this big, heavy guy with all these tattoos on his arms. One of them was like a¡­ umm, like an eagle with a headband.¡±


    ¡°Eagle with a headband!¡± I quickly blurted, nodding while pointing at her. ¡°Yeah, he definitely had that. It was up on his bicep here.¡± Gesturing to my own arm, I added, ¡°You know that guy?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve met,¡± the other girl informed me dryly, rubbing her own fist. ¡°I know what that job was too. They stole a couple classic cars. We weren¡¯t supposed to be in the area, but there was this kid with a bike that¨Cnever mind. The point is, they got away with a couple vehicles from that museum on Piquette.¡±


    ¡°Piquette¨Cyou mean the Ford Piquette Avenue Plant?!¡± I blurted, my voice rising a bit. ¡°They stole cars from that place? Which ones, did they hurt any of th¨C¡± Belatedly, I realized the other two were staring at me, and stopped myself, flushing. ¡°I mean, I didn¡¯t hear about that.¡±


    Squinting at me, That-A-Way murmured, ¡°Uh huh. Car guy, got it. Anyway, the point is, I had a thing with that guy. He¡¯s lucky he got away.¡± Pausing then, she frowned intently. ¡°Or maybe not lucky. We were going to chase them, but got called off by Silversmith. He said we were supposed to cut them off on this other route, but they never even went that way.¡± Her voice was troubled, to say the least. After saying that much, she looked up to me. ¡°You said not to trust anyone on the Conservators, not even Silversmith.¡±


    Meeting her gaze, I nodded. ¡°I know what I said. We have no idea who they¡¯re working with on the Star-Touched side. But if they have all this power and information, if they can actually influence patrol routes? That¡¯s gotta be pretty big, right. So yeah, don¡¯t trust anyone else. Not now. Not until we know more. Like I said before, this isn¡¯t something you can just put back in the box once it¡¯s open.¡±


    ¡°And part of knowing more is getting into that mall base you were talking about,¡± Pack pointed out. She¡¯d taken one of her lizards (I was pretty sure it was Tuesday) out of the cage and was rubbing his neck. ¡°So how do we do that without immediately broadcasting who we are? Cuz if both our leaders are in on this,¡± she gestured between herself and That-A-Way, ¡°they¡¯re gonna know who we are.¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about that,¡± I confirmed. ¡°You guys can¡¯t go there in your normal costumes. You¡¯ll need alternate disguises. And you can¡¯t use your obvious powers.¡±


    ¡°Us?¡± That-A-Way pointed out. ¡°What about you? If these guys are as big as you say¡­¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°They already know I¡¯m investigating them. I mean, they saw me save that Paige girl. What they don¡¯t know is how much I know. But still, we have to be careful. I¡¯d rather avoid having any confrontation if we can help it. So we go in the middle of the night, hopefully after everyone¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°And how do we get past that locked door you were talking about?¡± Pack demanded. ¡°Cuz you know it¡¯s alarmed. Not to mention all the other security measures they¡¯ll have.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we have to find a guy who works in there, wait for him to leave, then¡­¡± I hesitated before pushing on. ¡°Then grab him and use his pass key to get in once everything¡¯s locked down.¡±


    They were staring at me again. That-A-Way managed, ¡°You want to abduct a guy who works in that secret basement and use his passkey to get in?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s about the size of it, yeah,¡± I confirmed. ¡°I can¡¯t think of any other way to do it, can you? We need proof about what they¡¯re doing down there. The whole reason they¡¯re leaving Paige Banners alone is because she has mutually assured destruction material. We need our own. We need to know more. Which means we need to get in that basement, get pictures, video, whatever. I¡¯ve just been flailing around in the dark here. If I¡¯m gonna get anywhere, I have to take some chances.¡±


    ¡°We,¡± That-A-Way corrected gently. ¡°We have to take some chances. But you¡¯re right. And you¡¯re also right that Pack and I need to hide who we really are. At least until we know more.¡±


    ¡°And speaking of knowing more,¡± Pack put in, ¡°how about you explain everything your paint is capable of so we know what we can all do? And by paint, I mean the pink one. Because there is a whole thing on Sphere about what paints do what and no one can figure out what pink is. Unless it really does hide the beak.¡±


    That made me do a double-take. ¡°Hide the what?¡±


    I could¡¯ve sworn she was smirking at me from behind that full face-concealing black mask. ¡°Never mind. But you might want to check out your thread in that place. It¡¯s¡­ right, yeah, never mind. The pink?¡±


    That made me shrug helplessly. ¡°I dunno. I haven¡¯t figured it out. Here.¡± I pointed at the nearby wall and sprayed a pink circle onto it. ¡°When I activate it, nothing happens.¡±


    ¡°Well, good thing you¡¯ve got help now,¡± That-A-Way informed me. ¡°Trust me, it took awhile for me to figure out how my direction powers worked. Between the three of us, we should be able to crack this little mystery.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Pack agreed. ¡°And if all else fails, we could always ask Paintball¡¯s bird-daddy.¡±


    ¡°My what?!¡±

 Pink 12-08

    So, the other two told me about the ¡®theory¡¯ online. A joke theory that the real reason I wore a helmet in addition to a mask was because I was hiding a beak. Because my real dad was actually Lucent the raven.


    Once that much was explained, I stared at the two of them open-mouthed. I knew I should say something, but what exactly was I supposed to say? It was so absurd, I just wanted to laugh. So I did. I snorted first, then shook my head as the snort turned into a giggle fit. My hands pressed against the visor as I doubled over, unable to muffle the outright laugh that came next. A bird. People thought, or were pretending to think, that I was part bird. Somehow, in the midst of every bad thing I had to deal with, all the stress that came with figuring out how to investigate my own family¡¯s underground crime ring, finding out more about this secret history with Anthony Tate and Paige that had been erased from my brain, the entire Pencil situation, all of it¡­ all of it was just too much. And this stupid, ridiculous little theory made me start laughing until I couldn¡¯t stop. I was laughing so much I was almost crying. And then I was crying. Only belatedly did I realize that the snickers and laughter had turned into tears.


    The fuck was wrong with me? I couldn¡¯t even laugh properly without crying. God damn it.


    ¡°Um.¡± Pack exchanged an obviously confused look with That-A-Way before asking, ¡°You okay?¡±


    Forcing down all of those feelings, I nodded quickly. ¡°Right, yeah, sorry. We¡¯re good. I¡¯m good. We just¨Cum, no beak here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve seen you without the helmet,¡± That-A-Way pointed out dryly. ¡°Otherwise, totally would¡¯ve bought that theory.¡± She was obviously trying to tease me a little bit, offering a slight smile of encouragement. ¡°So, you wanna figure out this pink paint thing or what?¡±


    My mouth opened to agree, then I paused for just a second. Something about That-A-Way¡¯s smile, it made me¡­ feel like it was familiar somehow. But that was dumb. Of course it was familiar. I¡¯d seen Way smile before, after all. God, my brain was weird sometimes.


    Shaking that off, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, sure. Hope we have more luck with you guys.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯ve you tried so far?¡± Pack asked, setting Riddles on her shoulder to let the bearded dragon look around curiously.


    I shrugged at that. ¡°I¡¯ve kinda been distracted, so I haven¡¯t tested it as much as I should¡¯ve. Mostly I just put it against things, activated it, then tried touching them. Nothing happened. It doesn¡¯t give mind-reading powers or anything, or disguise powers, or flight. I tried putting paint on my shirt and jumping up and down, tried walking through walls with paint on the wall or on myself¡­ It feels kinda funny when you touch it but I can¡¯t figure out what that means.¡± Flushing a little, I admitted, ¡°I keep getting distracted by other things every time I try to focus on just the paint.¡±


    ¡°You, getting involved in too much stuff?¡± That-A-Way made an exaggerated sound of disbelief and a dismissive gesture with one hand. ¡°I don¡¯t believe it.¡±


    It was a good thing I had a helmet on, because letting those two see me stick my tongue out at her probably wouldn¡¯t have done a lot of good for my whole pretending to be a boy situation. Still, it made me feel better. As did kicking her in the leg to make the girl yelp.


    In any case, we really did need to figure this out. Because having my entire arsenal of paint was important if we were going to pull this off. So, the three of us moved up to the circle I¡¯d painted on the wall, and Pack put her hand against it. ¡°Turn it on? Or whatever you call it.¡±


    Shrugging, I did so, focusing on activating the paint. ¡°You¡¯ve got ten seconds.¡±


    ¡°Well it¡¯s not electrified,¡± Pack pointed out after running her hand over it. She tugged her glove off, revealing dark skin as she pressed her fingers back to the paint. ¡°Check this out, Rosey.¡±


    ¡°Rosey?¡± I echoed blankly.


    She pointed to That-A-Way without looking. ¡°Compass Rose.¡±


    ¡°Wha¨Cnever mind.¡± Shaking her head, the blonde girl stepped closer, reaching out to feel the pink circle. ¡°Huh, it¨C¡± Then the circle disappeared. ¡°Shit. It definitely didn¡¯t feel like the rest of the cement around it.¡±


    Pack nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not hot or cold. It didn¡¯t turn anything invisible. I didn¡¯t feel any different when I touched it. It wasn¡¯t¡­ hmm. I didn¡¯t feel different, but that spot definitely felt weird. Not like the rest of it.¡±


    Way was staring at the spot where it had been, sounding thoughtful. ¡°It felt more like¡­ umm¡­ softer? Yeah, it felt softer. Hey, try it again.¡±


    Spraying another circle, I watched as the two examined it once more. That-A-Way finally reared back her fist and punched the wall. When she pulled her hand back, there was a noticeable dent in the pink circle, a fist-shaped impression deep in the actual cement.


    ¡°Um.¡± Frowning, I stepped over there and leaned in, just as the pink disappeared. The wall was definitely dented. The actual concrete had pushed inward, like it was made out of playdough or something. ¡°I¡¯m no expert, but I don¡¯t think cement is supposed to do that.¡±


    That-A-Way put her hand out, running it along the fist-shaped indentation. ¡°Holy crap, dude. What the hell did that stuff do, make the wall¡­ soft? Your paint makes things soft?¡±


    Pack stooped, grabbing the wooden broom before holding it up. ¡°Hey, paint this thing.¡±


    So, I did. Carefully spraying pink over the handle, I activated it and gave her a nod.


    Pack, in turn, gripped the broom handle from both ends and bent it in half. It didn¡¯t break. It didn¡¯t snap. The handle itself bent easily, as Pack basically tied it into a knot. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s like it¡¯s made of rubber,¡± she announced, as the pink paint vanished, leaving a normal wood broom handle that was stretched out to be thinner than it used to be and wrapped around itself several times.


    ¡°Are you telling me that paint makes things¡­ what, rubber?¡± That-A-Way asked, taking the tied-up broom to examine it. ¡°Some kind of soft rubber that you can bend and twist around?¡±


    ¡°Hold on¡­¡± Curiously, I held up my own arm, focusing on painting not only my costume, but also my actual arm inside pink. Activating both, I took hold of the middle of my arm with my other hand and very carefully twisted, ready to stop if I needed to.


    It bent. My actual forearm bent. Not like, at the elbow or the wrist, but midway in between. It bent in half as if I had a whole other elbow there. Before even thinking about what I was doing, I grabbed tight and pulled at my arm. It stretched out like it was made of taffy. I twisted it around a few times and yanked it out in two different directions. It was silly putty. My arm was like silly putty. And it didn¡¯t hurt at all. It looked really fucked up, for sure. but it didn¡¯t actually hurt. Actually, it barely felt like anything at all except for maybe a little tingly.


    ¡°Oh, my God!¡± I blurted out loud while staring at my pretzel-like arm. ¡°That¡¯s what the pink does. You have no idea how long I¡¯ve been trying to figure that out.¡±


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Goodie,¡± Pack muttered. ¡°Excuse me while I go barf in the corner.¡±


    Of course, the real question was what would happen if my arm, or any body part, was bent and twisted like taffy when the pink wore out. Which was a thought that occurred to me about half a second before that very thing happened. The pink paint wore off, and my arm instantly snapped back to being the way it was supposed to be. It unbent and sort of¡­ schlooped back in on itself just like normal. It was all really quick, almost before I could even think about how bad it might be.


    ¡°Oh fuck!¡± That-A-Way blurted. ¡°Did that hurt, are you okay?!¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± I replied. ¡°Didn¡¯t hurt. Felt a little weird, but it didn¡¯t hurt. I uhh¡­ guess I¡¯m lucky the power works like that on biological things, huh? Might¡¯ve been bad if it just¡­ snapped or something.¡± Even as I said that part aloud, my face paled. God, that really would¡¯ve sucked. I probably would¡¯ve been on the ground screaming my fucking head off if my power didn¡¯t put my arm back properly.


    ¡°You guess you¡¯re lucky it works like¨C¡± Pack started to echo before cutting herself off with an exasperated sound. ¡°Rose, are you sure about this whole thing? Cuz I think we just got ourselves involved with a lunatic.¡±


    ¡°Lunatic or not,¡± the Minority Touched insisted, ¡°he knows more about the truth of what¡¯s going on in this city than anyone.¡± She gave me a brief look, ¡°And definitely more than he¡¯s said so far. So I don¡¯t think we have much choice right now.¡± Belatedly, That-A-Way added, ¡°What else do you think that paint can do?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I offered with a shrug, ¡°let¡¯s find out. I mean, if you guys want to help me some more.¡±


    The other two looked at each other briefly, before Pack replied with a flat, ¡°Duh. Playing with new powers is like¡­ one of the best things in the world. Helping someone else play with new powers? That¡¯s a pretty close second. So yeah, come on, let¡¯s see what else you can do with it.¡±


    Considering what to do for a moment, I held my hand up, painting it pink. ¡°Hey, Way. Pull my f¨C¡±


    ¡°If you finish that sentence,¡± she interrupted sharply, ¡°I swear I will lock you in this shed.¡± Squinting at me pointedly, the girl carefully reached out to take hold of three fingers at once. ¡°Just¡­ tell me if it hurts,¡± she advised before gingerly starting to pull as I activated the paint. As expected, my fingers stretched out. Again, it was like pulling taffy. Or gum. I wasn¡¯t sure what was going on with my bones inside, but it probably looked pretty gross. Hell, it looked gross just like this, as That-A-Way pulled those three fingers out until they were a good two feet long.


    ¡°Okay, hold up,¡± Pack quickly put in. ¡°Where¡¯s the extra material coming from? Cuz yeah, your fingers are a bit thinner than they would be, but not that much. That¡¯s two extra feet of skin and¡­ and¡­¡± Flailing a bit helplessly, she blurted, ¡°How¡¯s it stretching out that far?!¡±


    I started to say something, but in the next moment, the paint wore off. Instantly, the pink color vanished and my fingers were snapped out of That-A-Way¡¯s hand with a schlooping noise before they shot back to my hand and into place, practically vibrating from the force of it.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± That-A-Way jumped, head jerking my way as she looked at my now-normal fingers. ¡°Are you okay?! Did that¨Care you¨C¡± Her gaze was riveted to my hand, voice quiet. ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± I assured her, as well as Pack, who was also staring intently at me. ¡°I swear, it didn¡¯t hurt at all. Felt a bit tingly or whatever, and sure sounded weird. But it definitely didn¡¯t hurt. I think the effect turns off pain receptors in it or something?¡± Belatedly, I thought about how useful that by itself could be. If painting something pink turned off physical pain¡­ yeah, that could help a lot. Hell, I¡¯d had that exact thought before, that being able to shut off pain would be great.


    Opening and shutting my hand a couple times before pointedly wiggling my fingers, I looked to the others. ¡°See? It¡¯s all good. No problems.¡± That said, I tilted my head curiously. ¡°You know, my paint affects other people too.¡± It was too bad I had a mask and helmet on, because it meant they couldn¡¯t see the way my eyebrows were waggling. But I was pretty sure they could guess.


    There wasn¡¯t exactly a rush to be the first to volunteer. Finally, Pack sighed and stepped over, gingerly extending a hand to me. ¡°If this actually does hurt and you¡¯ve been fucking with us,¡± she informed me, ¡°I swear I will find a way to pay you back.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± I assured the girl, ¡°I don¡¯t have that good of a poker face. If that actually hurt even a fraction of what it seems like it should, I would¡¯ve been crying and screaming. I swear, you don¡¯t really feel anything at all. Cross my heart. Which, come to think of it, I might be able to do with this power, if I could twist my chest around the¨Cnever mind.¡± Realizing they were really staring at me by that point, I waved it off. ¡°Here, the point is, it¡¯s definitely not gonna hurt. And even if it somehow acts differently with you than me, we¡¯ll go really slow and careful at first, I swear.¡±


    Suiting action to words, I painted her index finger pink. Then I very gingerly took hold of the end and watched her face while starting to pull. I heard her sharp intake of breath and saw a visible flinch when the finger started to stretch, and stopped short. But after a moment, she gave me the nod to continue. It had just surprised her. So, I tugged a little more, stretching the finger further. It was now about a foot long and, judging from the lack of screaming, didn¡¯t hurt after all.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Pack blurted, head shaking. ¡°Look at that. My finger¡¯s just like¨Cyou¡¯re right, it doesn¡¯t hurt. Feels funky, but not really¡­¡± She trailed off, sounding like she felt a bit sick. ¡°Oh man, that¡¯s fucking gross. Totally fucking g¨C¡± At that point, the paint wore off and the tip of her finger was snapped out of my hand to sloorp right back into its normal position and length. The suddenness of it made Pack yelp, stumbling backward while grabbing her hand. Then she stopped, staring at it, then up at me. ¡°God damn, dude. You¡¯re right, it just feels really weird.¡±


    We tested that a little bit more, with That-A-Way¡¯s help too. Very carefully, I let both of them tie two of my fingers into a knot, just to see what would happen. I was ready to instantly paint them again if something went wrong, but wanted to see how my power dealt with that. Better in a semi-controlled environment like this than the middle of a fight, after all.


    As it turned out, there wasn¡¯t a problem. When the paint wore off, my fingers sort of¡­ schlurped in their still-boneless and stretchy forms to release one another before zipping back to their normal positions. The feeling and structure and all that didn¡¯t return until they were back the way they were supposed to be. And no matter how much we tried to tie them up, they were able to go right back to normal. Which made me wonder what would happen if it was somehow physically impossible for a stretched-out body part to get back to the way it was supposed to be. But that kind of extensive (and dangerous) testing would have to come later. Right now, I was still getting the hang of the basics of this stuff.


    We did try a few other things. I stretched my fully-pink arm out and watched as That-A-Way hit it with that metal pipe. She started softly, working her way up to full on, two-handed slamming it into my pink arm. Each time, I didn¡¯t feel anything and the arm just bent inward under the force of the hits. Again, it looked gross and awful, but didn¡¯t actually hurt at all. And each time, once the power wore off, my arm returned to normal with no apparent ill-effect. I tried it with my leg too, with the same result. Everything I used the paint on turned rubbery and could be pulled, stretched, or twisted into new shapes as long as the paint was active. If the thing was biological (or close attached to something biological, like my clothes, I supposed), it went right back to normal after the paint wore off. If it was some random object like the wall or the broom, it stayed the way it had been twisted.


    That, of course, made me wonder how the paint knew which was which. I could see biological things going back to their normal shape as some kind of safety measure, but how did it know to put clothes back to the way they¡¯d been? How did that work?


    Eventually, I even moved on to testing the paint on my lower torso. Painting the costume and my skin pink (Front and back, all the way around, of course), I let Pack take a turn with the pipe. She shoved it into my stomach end-first, and it just kept pushing that in and back. Looking over my shoulder, I watched as a pipe-shaped bit of my pink-painted costume torso started pushing back that way.


    ¡°Oh gross, gross! Nope, I¡¯m done, I¡¯m done.¡± Pack quickly yanked the pipe away, a moment before my stretched-out insides snapped back to the way they should be.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± That-A-Way piped up, gesturing to the wall, a blank section near the one that had the fist-shaped impression in it. ¡°Try it over here again, on this part.¡±


    So, I did. Extending a hand, I shot a circle of pink about a foot across at the wall. As soon as I activated it, That-A-Way shoved both her hands into the wall hard. She was able to, with some effort, grab two handfuls of the rubberized wall and pull them out, yanking the playdough-like cement out, then pushed and molded it until there was a hole in the wall leading into the storage unit next door.


    ¡°Holy shit, dude,¡± Pack blurted, ¡°do you have any idea how easily you could use this to break into places and¡­¡± She trailed off, blinking over toward That-A-Way, who was squinting at her. ¡°Umm¡­ save¡­ puppies and orphans and¡­ something. Whatever.¡±


    Snorting, I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯re right about one thing. This will make it easier to break into places¡­


    ¡°Like, say¡­ that secret base under the mall.¡±

 Pink 12-09

    The three of us talked a bit more, getting a fairly rough plan of what we might do to get into that secret base. We had ideas, though there were a few blank spots we¡¯d have to fill in later. It was something, at least. And thankfully, having these two onboard meant that I had people to bounce thoughts off of other than myself, people who could point out flaws in any idea I had, and who could come up with their own. Not coming up with the entire plan entirely by myself was a real treat. Almost as much of one as not carrying out the entire plan alone would be.


    And yet, I was still alone, wasn¡¯t I? On the big stuff. There were still things I wasn¡¯t telling them about, things I couldn¡¯t tell them about. They had no idea who I was, that my own parents ran the secret criminal conspiracy I¡¯d clued them in on, that¡­ that¡­ a lot. There was a lot they didn¡¯t know, and that I couldn¡¯t share. Not yet. Maybe someday? Maybe¨Cfuck. Or maybe I was just keeping it to myself out of habit or paranoia or something. Should I tell them who I really was? Should I tell them everything? They knew enough to really get in trouble now, so what exactly was the point of holding back on those few very key details? Was there a real reason?


    Yes. Because once I told them all of my secrets, there was no going back. There wasn¡¯t really any going back now, of course. But telling them about the Ministry was a different kind of vulnerable than telling them about me. Showing them who I was, who my family was¡­ that would be something I could never actually walk back, a box I could never close. It would leave me personally vulnerable in a way I wasn¡¯t just by telling them about the Ministry existing.


    Did that mean I was a coward, because I didn¡¯t want to expose myself like that? Was I just a scared little girl, was I protecting my family, was I¡­ was I¡­ what? What was I? Was my refusal to tell them the truth about everything good or bad? What was the right decision? When was the right time to tell them about who I was? How far did this have to go before I told the full truth? How much did they have to do to prove they were on my side? What did I want from them, exactly? How many times was I going to run these questions through my head.


    Fuck! I didn¡¯t know. I just didn¡¯t know, and I was terrified of making the wrong choice. Which was actually a big reason why I didn¡¯t tell them about me. Because that would be making the choice to do so. A choice I could never change. So I just¡­ didn¡¯t. Somehow, in my head, not telling them spared me from making that choice. At least for the moment. But it was coming. I knew that much. At some point, I was going to have to reveal who I really was and how much I was really connected to this Ministry.


    How would they react to that? I¡­ I didn¡¯t know. I was afraid to think about it.


    Either way, I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with it right now. At the moment, Pack and I were standing alone just outside the storage place, in a dark alley untouched by any of the distant streetlights. That-A-Way had just excused herself, saying she had to get back to her patrol before any of the people on her side noticed anything wrong. She¡¯d paused before leaving, looking at Pack and me for a few long seconds. It seemed like she had been about to say something. But, in the end, she just muttered something about meeting us later to ¡®deal with all this¡¯ before teleporting away.


    For a moment, Pack was quiet. The only sound in the alley came from the lizards in the cage crawling around. Finally, she spoke up. ¡°If you don¡¯t have any damsels in distress to save, Eits wants to talk to you too.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked, turning that way. ¡°How¡¯s umm¡­ how is he¨C¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s doing better,¡± she informed me. ¡°Not perfect. We¡¯ve got our own access to special healers, but it¡¯s not an immediate thing. He should be back to normal in another day or two. But he¡¯s up and around. And, like I said, he wants to talk to you. In private. If you¡¯re up to it.¡±


    My head bobbed hurriedly, as I blurted, ¡°Sure, yeah! I mean, of course. If he¡¯s up to it. I just¨CI didn¡¯t want to push him, or you, or¡­ or the whole situation. I just¨CI wanna tell him how¨C¡±


    Pack interrupted with a raised hand. ¡°Not me,¡± she said simply. ¡°Whatever you wanna say to him, you can say to him. Just uhh, let¡¯s keep this Ministry stuff to ourselves for now, huh? He¡¯s already gotten pretty hurt once recently. Plus, he umm¡­ he owes Blackjack a lot for helping him transition and all that. I¡¯d rather not make him choose between loyalties right this second. Maybe later, but right now it¡¯s just a bad idea. Let him recover, at the very least.¡±


    I swallowed hard, thinking about how much trouble Eits might¡¯ve gotten into if my parents thought he was onto them. ¡°Yeah.¡± My voice was quiet. ¡°I don¡¯t want him to get hurt again either.¡± She was right, the last thing Eits needed at this moment was to get in trouble again. Even if using his help to break through the security in the mall base would¨Cno. No. The Scions already hurt him really bad once. If something happened to him and it was because of my parents, I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d¡­ I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d do. But I wasn¡¯t taking that chance. Not right now.


    With that much agreed between us, Pack and I left the alley. She had a car parked nearby that the two of us slipped into. From there, it was a short drive to some old, beat-up parking lot behind a self-serve car wash. She¡¯d texted while we were on the way, but Eits hadn¡¯t arrived yet.


    Instead, the two of us sat in the car, watching the mostly-empty road as we listened to the lizards in their cage once more. That time, I was the one who found my voice first. ¡°This whole situation is pretty screwed up, huh?¡±


    Gazing sidelong at me, Pack was quiet before slowly replying, ¡°Something tells me I don¡¯t know the half of how screwed up it is from your point of view.¡± She shrugged elaborately. ¡°You¡¯re holding stuff back. I get that. There¡¯s parts of this you¡¯re not ready to share. And from what you have shared, there¡¯s probably a good reason for that. Just¡­¡± Hesitating, Pack obviously took the time to consider her words. ¡°Just try not to let it bite all of us in the ass, huh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± I promised. What else could I say? I wasn¡¯t going to deny that I still had secrets, or that they could be dangerous, or anything like that. She and I both knew how stupid that would be. But I meant what I said. I would do my best not to let things get even worse.


    Before the other girl could respond, headlights drew our attention to the entrance of the lot, where a gray sedan pulled in. The lights flickered twice, then once before the car pulled up alongside us. I saw Eits sitting in the driver¡¯s seat, though he didn¡¯t seem to be actively holding the wheel or anything. Must¡¯ve been using one of his mites.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Pack urged with a gesture. ¡°He said he wanted to talk in private. And Paintball¡­¡± She paused briefly, looking toward me in silence as though she couldn¡¯t decide exactly what to say. Finally, she settled on, ¡°Thanks for trusting me with this. I know I gave you shit about what happened to him, but¡­ but I know you were doing the best you could. It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡±


    Awkwardly thanking her, and promising that we would get to the bottom of the whole thing, I stepped out of her car and moved to get in the passenger side of the other. Closing the door after myself, I hesitated before looking over to the boy in the driver¡¯s seat. My voice was quiet, and obviously a little strained. ¡°Hey.¡±


    Eits shifted in his seat to look my way. There was the slightest grunt of discomfort. Soft as it was, I still cringed at the thought that even moving that much hurt at all. ¡°Hey yourself,¡± he replied. Belatedly, the boy added, ¡°Pack wasn¡¯t giving you too much shit, was she?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d deserve it if she did,¡± I insisted. ¡°I never should¡¯ve asked you to get involved in something that¨C¡±


    His hand rose to stop me. ¡°Paintball, stop. If it wasn¡¯t important, you wouldn¡¯t have asked. Hell, if it wasn¡¯t important, those assholes wouldn¡¯t have jumped me. And they wouldn¡¯t have abducted you. I just¨Cfuck, Paints, they¡¯re the Scions. Of course they¡¯re into some really bad shit. But you¡­¡± He raised his gaze to mine, staring at me. The diagonal black and gold bands that ran across his face to serve as his mask did nothing to hide the intensity in his eyes. ¡°You didn¡¯t know the Scions were involved before.¡±


    Quickly, I shook my head. ¡°No. No, of course not. I swear, I didn¡¯t know they were involved. I didn¡¯t know it¡¯d be that dangerous. I mean, I knew it was important or I wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve asked. But if I knew the Scions had anything to do with it, I swear I would¡¯ve warned you. If I asked you at all. I would¡¯ve made sure you had backup, and¡­ and, you know. I would¡¯ve done more.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°I know you would¡¯ve,¡± Eits assured me. He hesitated before adding, ¡°Did you find what you needed at the cabin? Pack said you went back in for a minute after all that.¡±


    Oh God. How much should I say? For a moment, I sat there, frozen by indecision. But¡­ look at what he¡¯d already gone through. I¡¯d already promised Pack we wouldn¡¯t involve him in the rest of this just yet. But I could at least talk about what I¡¯d found a little bit, right? He deserved that, after what he¡¯d been through to get me as far as I was.


    ¡°I found a few toys,¡± I carefully answered. ¡°They had a code on them that glowed in the dark. The code was to a folder in Seraph HQ, and when I looked at that, I found a bit¡­ more about what I¡¯ve been looking for.¡±


    That made Eits give a quick doubletake. ¡°Err, how exactly did you look at a folder in Seraph headquarters? You been making friends in high places over there too?¡±


    Oh, wait, shit. Fuck. He didn¡¯t know about that whole thing. Freezing, I stared at him guiltily from behind my mask and helmet. ¡°Um.¡± Wow, good thing he couldn¡¯t see my expression. ¡°It umm, I guess it sort of¡­¡± Squirming there in the seat, I managed a weak, slow, ¡°They sort of¡­ found out about the program you put on the computer in that shipping company and Hallowed was waiting after I returned the item, so we made a deal for me to do a little work for them in exchange for ¡®borrowing¡¯ their equipment?¡±


    For a moment, Eits just stared at me. His uncovered mouth fell open, a slow, quiet sound of disbelief escaping him. Finally, he managed, ¡°And you didn¡¯t tell me?! I¨CPaintball, that was my fault! I should¡¯ve¨Cthat¨CI didn¡¯t put everything I could¡¯ve to¨CI figured a trucking company wouldn¡¯t have¨Cthat¨Cyou should¡¯ve told me! I was involved in that too.¡±


    ¡°I know! They know, I mean¨C¡± Flushing deeply, I insisted, ¡°It¡¯s okay. I mean¨Cyes, yes I should¡¯ve told you. But it¡¯s over. I¡¯m working it off and they were pretty understanding about the whole thing.¡±


    Still, Eits shook his head. ¡°Damn it, Paints, if I¡¯d known they were onto that, I would¡¯ve helped you another¡­¡± Exhaling, he pointed to me. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta stop trying to do all of this by yourself. I don¡¯t know the half of what you¡¯re up to, but I know it¡¯s big. I know it¡¯s important, and that you¡¯re keeping a hell of a lot to yourself. I¡¯m also pretty sure you¡¯ve told Pack part of it too, a different part than you¡¯ve told me. And I know you¡¯re doing all of it like that because you¡¯re afraid of something even worse happening than me getting a little beat up. But for fuck¡¯s sake, if it¡¯s that big of a deal, you can¡¯t do it alone.¡±


    I froze, not saying anything. What could I say? I didn¡¯t want to lie to him, but I couldn¡¯t tell him anything more than I already had. Not right then. It was a bad idea even if I hadn¡¯t promised Pack that I wouldn¡¯t get him deeper involved until he fully recovered.


    For a long few seconds, the two of us just stared at each other like that. Eventually, Eits sighed, slumping back a little. ¡°Paintball, we both know you¡¯ve got secrets. Big ones. And you¡¯re obviously keeping them for a reason. Just¡­ just don¡¯t try to do everything all by yourself. Find someone you can trust, even if it¡¯s just to talk to. Even if it¡¯s not me or Pack or anyone, find someone you can unload with. Does anyone beyond me even know that you¡¯re¡­ you know.¡±


    ¡°A girl?¡± My head shook, voice quiet as I glanced out the window. ¡°No. You¡¯re literally the only person besides me who even knows that much.¡± Quickly, I snapped my gaze to him once more, blurting, ¡°And you can¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not telling anyone,¡± Eits insisted firmly. ¡°I already promised I wouldn¡¯t. Your secret is safe with me, I swear, Paintball. That wasn¡¯t my point. Just¡­ you just need someone to talk to. Someone you can trust to just¡­ just vent about all this to. Believe me, as someone who had a hell of a lot of my own venting to do about my situation, it really helps. And bottling it up, trying to handle all of it just by yourself? That¡¯s gonna make things worse. Please. Find someone you can unload this stuff on before it boils up too much, okay? Just try.¡±


    What was I supposed to say to that? I couldn¡¯t tell him why I didn¡¯t trust anyone with the stuff I knew, or why I didn¡¯t want to burden the people I did at least mostly trust with the whole story. I couldn¡¯t tell him that I still wasn¡¯t sure whether I was protecting other people or my family by keeping it to myself, or what any of that meant to me. It was just too much for me to ¡®unload¡¯ like he was saying.


    But I couldn¡¯t refuse either. So, throat dry, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll work on it.¡± That was all I could manage.


    Belatedly, I changed the subject. ¡°Hey, we figured out what my pink paint does!¡± Yeah, it was an obvious attempt to talk about something less uncomfortable, but still. I really did want to share it.


    From the sound of his voice, Eits was just as aware of what I was doing, but he was curious too. ¡°You did?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, with a bit of help,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Uhh, watch.¡± Carefully, I pointed to the steering wheel and covered about four inches of the top right side with pink. As Eits watched, I reached out, activating the paint before grabbing hold and stretching it up and back to myself. That part of the steering wheel stretched like chewing gum, while the boy beside me made a noise of surprise.


    Letting it go, I watched as it stayed perfectly in place, stretched out like that. It was easily stretched and molded, yet when I released it, the painted thing remained solidly where it was.


    I showed Eits a few more things with it while he watched, obviously enthralled. And while doing so, I realized something else. When I had a nonliving object painted and let the paint run out on its own, it would simply stay where it was, like that bit with the steering wheel.


    But, if I disabled the paint ahead of time, if I focused on turning it off, the object didn¡¯t immediately go back to its normal state. Instead, for just a few extra seconds, it turned sort of¡­ loose-rubbery, for lack of a better word. Like a rubber band. I could pull it out, let go, and it would snap back to where it was when I first turned the paint off. It was only for like three seconds or so. But the point was, I could paint something, disable the paint, yank it out, then it would snap back to the position it was in when I disabled the paint once I stopped holding it back. Again, like a rubberband.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait.¡± Quickly, I scrambled out of the car. Pack was still sitting over in hers, apparently involved with her lizards. She looked up and over as I climbed up on Eits¡¯ sedan, even as the boy himself asked what I was doing.


    ¡°Check this out!¡± I blurted, before spraying the pavement with pink. Instantly, I dismissed the paint and then jumped. As my feet hit the ground, it literally bent under the force of my impact, then snapped back to where it was, launching me several feet into the air. Trampoline. It was like a trampoline. It wasn¡¯t quite the same kind of launch I got from blue paint, but still. It was cool. It was really fucking cool.


    Pack came over to see what the hell I was doing. When I explained, she brought the lizards. Then we let them play, bouncing off the ground and into the air. They seemed to enjoy it, especially when Eits stepped out of the car and stood in a third spot as we all bounced them back and forth. I kept reapplying and dismissing the paint whenever needed, and the three of us played bounce the lizards off the trampoline ground. Pack, of course, made sure her little friends weren¡¯t scared or anything. They seemed to understand what was going on. Which made me feel even more confused about how exactly her power worked and what it did to them.


    Either way, the three of us were laughing throughout all of that. For a few minutes, I forgot everything else. I stopped worrying about that whole stupid situation and just had goofy fun with the two Fell-Touched. I even forgot they were technically villains. We just goofed off with Pack¡¯s lizards, finding things to bounce them off of. I used orange paint to keep them safe from being hurt, and we just¡­ forgot everything else.


    Eventually, the other two had to leave. I thanked them both again, promising Eits that I would think about what he¡¯d said. As I was walking away, however, he called out before coming over to join me. He was moving slower than normal, and wincing a little, but at least he was moving.


    Once the two of us were a bit away from Pack, who studiously paid attention to getting her lizards back in the car, Eits lowered his voice. ¡°I meant to say something before, about that Paige Banners girl.¡±


    ¡°You said you couldn¡¯t get any more info about her without physical access to the adoption records,¡± I replied, shaking my head. ¡°I don¡¯t want you doing anything like that. I¡¯ll deal with it myself.¡± I hadn¡¯t even told him about finding out that Paige was found by those Ten Tower people, or the dead bodies that had been around her.


    ¡°Well, too late,¡± he retorted. ¡°I already got something for you. It¡¯s not much, but¡­ here.¡± With that, Eits produced a piece of paper with a name written on it. ¡°Turns out that Paige girl has some kind of history with Ten Towers. Not sure what it was, but one of the Ten Towers Prev troops who was involved in all that sort of went rogue a couple years ago. He¡¯s working as grunt muscle for the Ninety-Niners now. Maybe you can get something out of him about what he saw back then?¡± He shrugged helplessly. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s the best I could do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¨C¡± Swallowing, I took the note. ¡°Thanks. But just¡­ just get better, okay?¡±


    As soon as he promised he would take it easy, I took a running start, spraying blue at the ground in front of me. As my feet hit it, I was launched up and forward. In mid-flight, I sprayed a pink circle into the middle of the billboard I had launched myself toward. Twisting in the air, I activated and immediately disabled the pink, just before my feet hit it. That spot of the billboard bent inward dramatically, bowing in like a trampoline being pushed to its limit. Then it snapped back to normal, hurling me even higher into the air and over the roof of a building.


    Yeah, I had a lot to deal with. But Pack and That-A-Way were going to help. They knew some of it. I had¡­ something approaching friends, even if none of them knew the whole story. And, just as importantly, I knew how to use the pink paint now. I knew how to use all of my powers, I had allies who were ready to help with the whole Ministry thing, and I had a new lead for figuring out Paige¡¯s whole deal.


    Maybe, just maybe, I was finally going to get somewhere with all this.

 Commissioned Interlude 3 - Armistice

    Columbus, Nebraska. County seat of Platte County, with a population of just under twenty-five thousand. Back in the thirties, a thirty-five mile canal project diverting water from the nearby Loup River had been used to supply two hydroelectric stations, one near Columbus itself and one near Monroe, fourteen miles away. In order to find a market for their electricity and thus make the incredibly expensive project profitable, they spent years issuing revenue bonds to purchase private power companies. This eventually led, by 1949, to Nebraska becoming the only state in the Union that used only public power with no private electrical utilities.


    Columbus itself was an average town in Midwest America. It ran off an economy that was mostly centered around either agriculture (as so much in Nebraska was) or manufacturing, given the easily available hydroelectric power, which attracted plenty of industrial companies to the area.


    But at the moment, none of that deep, rich history mattered. The lives of those twenty-five thousand residents had, in the early morning hours of the day, been upended in a way they would never entirely recover from. Because at roughly ten minutes past seven, Columbus, Nebraska had become the latest location of a Collision Point.


    The event actually began several miles north of town, at a gas station along Highway 81. Witnesses later would be unable to recall specific details that would have allowed the identities of the two people who transformed into their Abyssal-forms after meeting to be exposed. Cameras likewise would find their footage erased. Both the memory loss and damage to video recordings were standard at Collision Points, but would still be no less frustrating to investigators trying desperately to identify the participants and thus stop these events.


    Yet, what was known was that two people at the gas station had run into one another who never should have met. Each was secretly an Abyssal, a human who transformed into a monster the moment they made physical contact with another like them. The three types of Abyssals acted differently in human form, of course. Hidden had no idea what they were and went about their lives clueless to their nature, Wanderers traveled constantly and appeared to be mentally ill/barely cognizant, and Stalkers knew exactly what they were and actively sought out Collision Points, often even murdering people in their own human forms. And yet, different as the three categories were before transforming, once in their monster states all had only one goal: to annihilate their counterpart. No matter what type of person the Abyssal was in their human state, transforming turned them into violently murderous creatures who cared only about destroying one another, and killing or breaking everything that got between them and that goal.


    For just under an hour, the Abyssals had been tearing into one another. Several local Touched teams (almost all of whom were actually based in Lincoln seventy-five miles away and had had to find various quick travel methods of getting to Columbus) had tried to intervene, but they were quickly overwhelmed and had resorted mostly to evacuation efforts. None of the Touched stationed in the state were up to the task of handling something of this magnitude.


    But that was about to change. Because, at the so-called Sock Pond, located on the south-west corner of town, part of the water right at the edge of the pond, next to the embankment, began to glow unnaturally blue. A moment later, the water in that spot quickly began rising to create a fifteen-foot across, one-foot wide, and nine-foot high waterfall. A waterfall that, seconds after its creation, froze. The falling, still-glowing water went completely still. Then, through that glowing, motionless vertical water, eight figures emerged to step up onto the embankment before spreading out. They were Armistice, the international team consisting of some of the strongest Star-Touched in the world.


    Baldur, the team leader from Germany, wasted no time before lifting off the ground to hover fifteen feet up so they could take in what they were dealing with. At the moment, their body was male, though given the nature of their power (shifting bodies between hundreds of alternate selves, each with their own set of powers and a mixture of male and female sex) that changed often. Their costume at that particular moment (it changed with the body) consisted of a skintight white bodysuit and boots each with dark green piping, and a simple green helmet with a white visor that covered their entire head.


    Seconds later, the rest of the team were raised into the air beside Baldur. His power, in this body, allowed him to create and adjust invisible walls and floors, including these rising platforms that lifted himself and the rest of Armistice so they could see the Abyssals in the distance.


    ¡°Fait chier,¡± the Frenchman known as Gevaudan blurted. He wore little in the way of costume. Little in the way of anything, actually. His only clothes consisted of simple black pants. His identity was concealed not by any mask, but by the fact that he looked like a stereotypical werewolf, standing slightly over eight feet tall, with long, heavily muscled limbs, fur-covered skin, and a canine snout with a mouth that was full of sharp teeth. ¡°It is Maricoxi.¡±


    The name Maricoxi had been borrowed from the term for large, ape-like mythological creatures in South America. Their version of the Yeti or Bigfoot, essentially. Yet the Abyssal known as Maricoxi was far worse than any of those legends. He stood forty feet tall, an enormous figure covered in shaggy gray-brown fur, with enough strength to pulverize a tank with a swat of one hand. Worse, however, were what were called his spawn. Essentially, Maricoxi was capable of making any number of duplicates of himself. The spawn could be any size, from his full height all the way down to normal human size. But they could only exist while attached to Maricoxi himself, vanishing within a moment of breaking physical contact. They could be attached to any part of his body by any part of their body, though they were usually attached by their backs or feet.


    The Abyssal generally went through fights creating hundreds of these spawn, of all sizes, all over his body at various times. He could extend his arm and create a full-sized duplicate of himself, attached by the foot, that could punch something over fifty feet away from where Maricoxi himself was standing. The only limitation, again, was that they had to be attached to the original¡¯s body in some way, and could not be taller than his own forty feet. At any given moment, there could be one full-sized spawn attached to his back to attack things behind him, two half-sized spawn attached to the outside of either leg, dozens of smaller, more human-sized spawn along his feet to tear apart people on the ground who tried to get close to him, and more of varying sizes along his arms and hands to extend his reach. He could stick his arm close to a building and sprout ten spawn along it that would tear the wall apart with their bare hands, grabbing people within before ripping into them, sadistically devouring any human they could catch, apparently feeding the energy of the dead to their creator to make him even stronger.


    He was, in two words, incredibly dangerous. One of the worst Stalker Abyssals in North America, Maricoxi would have been bad enough on his own. Yet, somehow, things were even worse than that. Because he had managed to find another Stalker to fight.


    The second Stalker Abyssal was known as Backahast, a corruption of the Swedish B?ckh?sten. Like the myth it had originated from, Backahast looked, from a distance, like a beautiful, majestic white horse with a gray-ish mane. Though the fact that he was twenty feet tall at the shoulder might¡¯ve given a hint that something was odd. Worse, unlike the rest of his body, Backahast¡¯s head was that of a skeleton horse, showing nothing but bone, with purple-silver smoke curling within the eye sockets and around its somehow sneering mouth.


    It was that purplish smoke that was the real danger. Backahast was capable of projecting the smoke in a large cloud away from himself. Anyone who found themselves caught in the cloud would be heavily compelled to go close and touch the giant horse. And if they failed to stop themselves or be stopped, actually touching the creature? Then their skeletons would be under his control, and would rip their way free of the still-living fleshy parts of the body, killing them in the process in order to join the rapidly growing skeleton army. An army of animated bones that could meld into one another to form much larger figures if need be, and often became a giant humanoid skeleton that acted as Backahast¡¯s ¡®rider.¡¯


    Both Stalker-Abyssals were terrifyingly dangerous on their own. Put together in a fight to the death, they were so much worse. Dozens of structures at the edge of town had already been leveled beneath their feet. Backahast had managed to compel enough people to touch him that he had a full-sized skeleton rider atop his back, and a small army of thirty or so twelve-foot tall skeletons arrayed around the front of him, grappling with Maricoxi¡¯s own various attached spawn, while the ¡®rider¡¯ himself fought the main giant ape-man from atop his perch. The horse¡¯s skeleton-head snapped and bit at one of the smaller spawn attached to Maricoxi¡¯s chest, tearing an entire body free before it dissolved in his mouth.


    As the team took in what they were going to have to deal with, Baldur quickly blurted orders. They spoke in English, which the team all spoke even more fluently since they had been implanted with Touched-Tech devices that instantly taught each of them twenty different languages, a way of aiding with their ability to operate worldwide.


    ¡°Kuruseida, Adlivun, Radiant, focus on B?ckah?sten.¡± They used the proper Swedish pronunciation. ¡°Curupira and Rip, stop anyone else from getting close and focus on evacuation. Big Ben, Gevaudan, and I will take Maricoxi.¡±


    ¡°How long until we have reinforcements?¡± Rip, the dark-skinned Australian woman in her late twenties asked. She was the one who had brought them through the water-portal. Her dark hair was worn in a long, tight braid, and her costume consisted of what looked like a surfer¡¯s wetsuit, mostly metallic red with a bit of black trim that included a stylized R in the upper right side. The top half of her face was covered by red-lensed SCUBA goggles that left her eyes entirely invisible. Only her exposed hands and the lower half of her face gave away the fact that she was black.


    Radiant, the blonde, short-haired American woman wearing a full black bodysuit covered in star-like patterns and a glowing silver metal mask across the bottom half of her face answered. ¡°There¡¯s a gang war going on in Missouri. It¡¯s been pretty bad, so a lot of forces were pulled that way. It¡¯s going to take time to get anyone else active. There were a couple smaller teams that tried to help, but they had to withdraw. They weren¡¯t ready for anything like this. And the police and national guard don¡¯t want to get within sight of Backahast.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯ll hold them off until enough reinforcements manage to get here,¡± Baldur announced firmly. ¡°Or until they stop fighting. One way or another.¡± They lowered the group back to the ground, announcing, ¡°You all have your assignments. Let¡¯s get to work.¡±


    With that, their body transformed. Instead of being male, they became a female version of themself. This version wore a bright red and black suit of armor, with a long, flowing black cloak and a red featureless metal mask that looked like solid glass but was much stronger over the front of their face. The second their new body manifested, flames sprouted up around the figure and they took off in a shot toward the clashing monsters.


    Big Ben, the British (of course) Star-Touched ran after his leader. With each step, he grew larger, until he reached his full forty-foot height, closing the distance quickly. His own costume, which grew with him, was dark blue, almost black pants, a long, equally dark trench coat worn over red scale mail-like body armor on his chest, red leather gloves and boots, and a black metal helmet with a red visor.


    Right behind those two was the wolf-man Gevaudan. Rather than run, he used his other power. Because Gevaudan was far more than just a shapeshifting werewolf. He was also capable of summoning and controlling prehistoric creatures. Generally, it was easier for him to do so with mammals. But that wasn¡¯t a rule. In this case, he created a full-sized tyrannosaurus rex, clambering to its back before directing the twenty-foot tall dinosaur to run after his leader and teammate. On the way, Gevaudan summoned several sabertooth tigers, a ten-ton Steppe Mammoth, and a twenty-foot-long, four-ton, rhino-like (save for its long, shaggy fur) Elasmotherium.


    Together, those three (and Gevaudan¡¯s rapidly summoned army of creatures) tore off to attack the giant ape-man and all his attached spawn. At the same time, Radiant had already shifted into her glowing energy-body and was flying off to get closer to the horse-like Backahast. Close behind her was Adlivun, the Canadian hero who wore blue-white body armor that looked like thick glass but was strong enough to take a grenade blast without cracking. His power allowed him to create a ghost-like duplicate of any person he had touched, including himself. He could maintain up to thirty of these ¡®ghosts¡¯ at any given time, all of which possessed the power to manipulate and summon ice and cold.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Two of his ghosts were using their ice creation powers right then to form a frozen platform-slide, which Adlivun himself rode, knees bent like a surfer, after the flying Radiant.


    Meanwhile, the Japanese heroine Kuruseida also took a running start. The not quite yet twenty year old girl had stylized her own costume to look like one of the Sentai she loved so much, a white-and-blue figure with a black visor and a belt lined with pouches. It was one of those pouches that Kuruseida reached into, producing three small coins. One was red, the other two white. All three had different symbols on them. As she ran, Kuruseida shoved her thumb against the center of the red coin and hurled it in front of herself, then did the same with each of the white coins.


    The red coin flipped through the air before exploding outward. The coin itself was destroyed, but where it had been a moment earlier, a full-sized metal surfboard had appeared. The ¡®surfboard¡¯ was able to hover in place or fly at speeds approaching a hundred miles per hour. Which it did the second its creator leapt to land on it, heading after the other two. At the same time, the other two coins that Kuroseida had thrown burst apart to reveal a pair of futuristic-looking pistols. She caught one in each hand and opened fire on the horse-like Abyssal they were heading for. After those first few shots, she dropped the pistols toward the front of her board, where a hole opened up to catch them in a storage space much larger than should have fit within the thin space of the board itself. From that same opening rose a full-sized mounted laser cannon, which locked into place just before she grabbed the handle, sighted in, and unleashed a blue-white beam from the cannon with enough destructive force to have pulverized its way through several feet of solid steel. Kuroseida aimed the turret carefully, keeping the ongoing destructive beam centered on the suddenly-furious horse Abyssal while taking a wide berth around it on her board.


    Her attack was quickly joined by a blast of cold from three of Adlivun¡¯s ghosts, freezing ten skeletons instantly. As they were turned to ice, Radiant flew past their line. A couple stragglers on the edges tried to throw their bone-weapons at her, but she simply turned herself intangible, allowing the hurled makeshift weapons to pass through her harmlessly while she focused on Backahast. The American woman wasn¡¯t capable of firing energy blasts as many would have thought given the fact she transformed her entire body into energy. Instead, she produced short-lived duplicates of herself, which flew very quickly at her target and punched them a couple times before exploding. She put that to use, sending six duplicates at the reeling, roaring Abyssal while he was still reacting to the beam from Kuroseida¡¯s cannon. They exploded, sending a shower of bones from nearby skeletons flying everywhere. Shards of bone which, unfortunately, quickly coalesced into a single large figure which launched into a counter-offensive.


    Meanwhile, the last two members of the team were left to focus on evacuation. Rip had shifted into her liquid-form and was sliding through the town on a jet of water, raising portals in every pond, stream, or pool she could find. She was even summoning water to blast the tops off of fire hydrants to create more portals. They wouldn¡¯t last forever without her focus, but each would last for a few minutes, and she continually swung back and forth through the streets, renewing portals for huddled citizens to escape through.


    Her partner in the endeavor, Curupira, was a black man from Brazil. He wore black body armor, a dark red hood and cloak, and a demonic red and white face mask that left him the member of the team with the least PR-friendly look. It was a look that he magnified with his own power of illusions, allowing the man to make shadows and flames appear around him, make his cloak appear far more sinister and voluminous as it ominously billowed, turn his voice into something that sounded like it was coming from the depths of hell itself, and more. He could do a lot more with his power of illusions, but primarily he used it to supplement his incredible combat skills, which themselves were heightened by enhanced strength, speed, reflexes, and stamina putting him just above what a peak human was capable of.


    At that particular moment, however, Curupira was using his illusions in a different way than he was generally accustomed to. From the roof of the building he had grappled himself to, the man used his illusion-power to create images of people urging the actual citizens of the town to run through the water portals Rip was creating. He ran, leaping from roof to roof (the town was small, so most of the buildings were no higher than a couple stories at best, but it still helped him see what was going on and where people were) while pushing his illusions through every street and alley around him, calling out for the people to flee to safety through the portals.


    By that point, Big Ben, Gevaudan (with his small army of prehistoric creatures), and the currently fire-using and feminine-figured Baldur had arrived in front of Maricoxi. The giant ape-man had been using a nearly three-quarter-sized spawn attached to one arm to sweep aside the nearest group of skeletons before the ten-ton Steppe Mammoth slammed into the side of the spawn. The impact tore the thirty-foot tall furry duplicate from the arm it was attached to, causing it to vanish in a spray of blood while the Mammoth trumpeted. Several more slightly smaller spawn appeared where the large one had been, each engaged by Gevaudan¡¯s tigers and massive woolly rhino. Gevaudan himself shifted even more into his beastial shape, almost entirely wolf-like save for the fact that he was on two legs, before throwing himself at the figure just as ferociously as his prehistoric allies.


    Big Ben, just as tall as the original, full-sized Maricoxi, slammed his fist into the side of the ape-man¡¯s shaggy head with as much force as he could muster. It barely made the Abyssal blink, before two ten-foot tall (if they had been standing on the ground) spawn sprouted from the figure¡¯s furry shoulders and grabbed onto his extended arm, clawing and biting at him.


    Baldur, hovering twenty feet back, watched their companions engage the dangerous monster. They glanced back quickly, assessing how the other three were doing with their own opponent, and how well Curupira and Rip were proceeding with the evacuation. Only once they had a clear view of things did they engage for themselves.


    In this case, ¡®engage¡¯ meant holding both hands out while hovering there in the air with flames flickering around them, and sending forth a massive torrent of fire. The flames, from an outsider¡¯s perspective, seemed to engulf the entire forty-foot tall Abyssal and everyone attacking him. And yet, there was so much more going on. Because in every single spot where one of Baldur¡¯s allies (including the summoned prehistoric creatures) was, the fire avoided them. The flames and the heat they gave off were under so much tight control that they would lick within inches of Big Ben, Gevaudan, and the others without causing them so much as the slightest bit of discomfort. It even adjusted to their own movements, maintaining those pockets of safety wherever they were.


    The effect of the flames on Maricoxi, on the other hand, was far different. Dozens of his sprouted spawn all over his body were entirely vaporized by the heat in the matter of a few brief seconds. The Abyssal himself was far stronger than his creations, yet even he was affected. Most of the fur was burned away, leaving red-and-black charred skin, making the giant monster look far more alien, with patches of smoldering fur here and there, and the awful stench of so many instantly cremated spawn.


    Yet even then, the monster was far from done. He tore a finger from his own hand, hurling it at the hovering figure who had so harmed him. In mid-flight, the torn-off finger sprouted a full-sized spawn (the finger itself was attached to this duplicate¡¯s foot), which flew straight at Baldur. An instant before the giant ape-figure would have crashed into them, Baldur¡¯s body shifted once more. Now they were a thinner version of their male-self, one wearing flowing golden robes and a crown with a simple metal domino mask. Their hand snapped up, catching the incoming duplicated monster in a glowing red-gold bubble, which promptly shrank to the size of a baseball, compressing the figure within into a gooey paste that quickly disappeared save for what was left of the finger.


    In that short time, Maricoxi had regenerated his hurled finger as well as a large portion of the fur that had been burned away, bellowing a challenge as he sprouted more spawn of various sizes all over his body and leapt to engage this distraction so that he could return to his primary goal: the other Abyssal.


    For another hour, the battle continued that way. The two trios of powerful Star-Touched did everything possible to slow and separate the dueling monsters, while more of the town was destroyed around them. They protected what they could, focusing on keeping places where the citizens had not yet been evacuated intact.


    It was a losing battle, even for a team of Touched as strong as Armistice. Two Stalker Abyssal, little to nothing in the way of assistance from other teams or Prev military thanks to multiple ongoing events in the surrounding states, and a very spread-out population that had to be found and evacuated a few at a time all led to an inevitable conclusion.


    ¡°Withdraw.¡± Baldur, currently in a male body with cement-control powers that they had used to form a temporary wall, ordered their companions through the communicators they all wore. ¡°Everyone else focus on evacuation. Get everyone out of the town. Everyone. No one left behind. I¡¯ll keep their attention on me.¡±


    None of the others questioned how their leader was going to accomplish that. Instead, they leapt to follow the orders, rushing through every building, down every street, looking in every corner to find any straggler. With the aid of Gevaudan¡¯s prehistoric animals and Adlivun¡¯s ice-controlling ghosts, they searched closets, cupboards, under and inside cars, behind dumpsters, everywhere that a civilian could have hid in to escape the carnage.


    Baldur, meanwhile, took up a position directly between the giant monsters. They stood atop a pillar of concrete they had summoned from the ground, glancing back and forth as each of the Abyssals ignored everything else and launched themselves at one another.


    Once more, Baldur¡¯s body shifted. Now, they took the form of another female version of themselves, one with green-dyed, punk-styled hair and a purple and white armored bodysuit with a small cannon attached to one arm. Thrusting both hands out as the giant Abyssals careened toward them (and toward one another), Baldur focused on this new power.


    Instantly, the space that the Abyssals were traveling through quadrupled. Space itself warped and twisted on a massive scale, creating several miles worth of area out of nothing. Buildings, the ground, traffic lights, everything was twisted and stretched to fit this warped area, like a picture in a computer paint program that had been stretched and blurred beyond all recognition.


    The Abyssals kept charging, and Baldur kept stretching out the space between them. They ran for miles while getting almost nowhere. Almost nowhere. Yet even Baldur could only stretch the space out so far. For every foot they gained, they ran several miles, but they did gain those feet. Bit by bit, they drew gradually closer.


    Fortunately, Baldur¡¯s teammates used that time to their advantage. They evacuated the entire remaining civilians out of the town, leaving it entirely empty. Only once they were sent word that everyone was out did Baldur drop the space-warping effect, resuming the body they had originally arrived in with the invisible platform powers. Quickly, they used those powers to send themselves up and away just before Maricoxi and Backahast collided, their screams of terrifying fury echoing through the emptied town.


    ¡°Now what?¡± the young, impetuous Kuruseida demanded from atop her hovering board as the team stayed well away from the clashing titans.


    ¡°Now we catch our breath,¡± Big Ben advised, having already shrunk back to a more manageable ten feet in height while rubbing his fist. ¡°And hope these two tucker themselves out.¡±


    ¡°They will destroy most if not all of the town before they are through,¡± Curupira observed in his cold, analytical voice. ¡°Their battle is too destructive for these small buildings. There will be little left.¡±


    ¡°The people will be left,¡± Baldur quietly replied, their attention centered on the giant rampaging monsters. ¡°They¡¯ll survive. And when this is over, they¡¯ll either rebuild, or relocate. Either way, they¡¯ll move on.¡±


    Muttering a long curse in her own native Japanese, Kuruseida then blurted, ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be the ones who stop these monsters! We¡¯re supposed to be the heroes!¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Radiant agreed, putting a hand on the slightly younger woman¡¯s shoulder. ¡°But sometimes being the heroes isn¡¯t about glorious victory, or about fighting until the bitter end. Sometimes it¡¯s about cutting your losses and pulling out while you can. It¡¯s just buildings and property out there now. Like Baldur said, people can rebuild those. The government will help. That¡¯s what the fund is for.¡±


    The fund, as it was simply titled, was money that most of the modern nations of the world paid into. The money came from a mixture of taxes on Touched-related merchandise, publicly available Touched-Tech, and other related sources, and was used to help reconstruct areas damaged or even devastated by Touched battles and Collision Points like this. It would help get the people of Columbus, Nebraska back on their feet.


    But that would come later. For the moment, the assorted eight members of Armistice stood mostly-silent vigil, watching as the Abyssals carried on their battle to the very end. Eventually, the two damaged one another enough that each was forced to vanish, returning to their human forms in some other location far from the actual battlefield, leaving them safely anonymous once more so that they could recharge.


    All that was left in the wake of all that destruction was a ten square miles-wide collection of rubble and dust that had once been a town, and eight heroes who, despite all their power and strength, had been unable to save it. They had saved the people though, had safely evacuated every person they could. The town was gone, but its inhabitants, its people, were alive.


    For today, that was going to have to be enough.

 Interlude 12A - Pack

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what was that about school?¡± Dani Kalvers demanded while carrying her cage full of lizards through the La Casa homebase (The The House Homebase, heee, that never got old) alongside a man in his late twenties with skin as dark as hers, along with a stylish mustache and short hair. He looked like a young, very fit Lando Calrissian. In Touched life, he wore a black bodysuit with emerald green highlights, a dashing cape that was very dark, almost black green on the outside and a silky emerald on the inside, along with black gloves, boots, and a full head-covering black helmet that conformed tightly to his face, with a charmingly smiling expression etched into it in the same green as the inside of his cape. Right now, however, he was dressed much more simply, in dark jeans and a button-up red shirt.


    He was publicly known as Hardway, a Touched with the power to manipulate the inertia and motion of anything within six feet, including himself. To those who knew him in regular life, he was Isaiah Coleman, an insurance salesman with remarkable numbers (very remarkable, considering how often he left his actual job for Touched business), a wife, and a three-year-old son.


    Smirking a little at Dani¡¯s reaction, the currently unmasked Fell-Touched glanced toward her. ¡°What, you didn¡¯t think you¡¯d go forever without having some kind of schooling, did you? Come now, Blackjack wants productive, useful people. Your powers make you that to start with, but you need a real education to reach your actual potential. Not to mention,¡± he added pointedly, ¡°if we¡¯re going to put you into one of our La Casa businesses for your cover, you¡¯ll need to have actually had the education to do that job. It¡¯s not exactly hard to apply, but it has to look right to outsiders. You don¡¯t want the feds working out exactly who all of us are just because they see a high school dropout managing a six figure salary with no apparent income, right?¡±


    For a moment, Dani stopped in the corridor to squint at him. She, like him, was currently in civilian clothes. ¡°This feels like a trick question,¡± she announced, while easily holding the cage of lizards with one hand. The cage itself was a gift from Blackjack. It was Touched-tech, somehow much lighter than it should be even with all her lizards happily lazing around inside it. Made it easier to move around with her little friends, anyway. Apparently Blackjack was working on procuring something even better for her, though she wasn¡¯t sure what that could be.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a trick question,¡± Isaiah assured her with a chuckle. ¡°Believe me, you gotta play the game right if you don¡¯t want a whole team of Fedstars breathing down your neck.¡± Fedstar, of course, was the (often used disparagingly) slang term for any government-aligned Star-Touched. ¡°They look for stuff like that. You can be comfortable. Hell, they can even know that you¡¯re probably connected to criminal stuff. But you need plausible deniability. You need a job, you need an education. La Casa¡¯s gonna make sure you get both. Only thing you¡¯ve got to do is put in the work for the education part.¡±


    ¡°Because Blackjack wants smart people working for him, people who can do more than just hit things, yada yada, yeah, I get it.¡± Dani exhaled, trying not to think about everything Paintball had told her about how the whole Detroit Touched scene really worked. Blurting out a question about that probably wouldn¡¯t end very well. At the very least, she¡¯d be expected to explain how she knew any of that stuff. And that would be betraying Paintball, something that kid didn¡¯t deserve.


    Besides, she really wanted to find out for herself exactly how this worked, how much money was being taken away from her to pay these ¡®Ministry¡¯ people, and what she could do about it.


    Not that she was one hundred percent against the idea of something like the Ministry, but she didn¡¯t appreciate it being a secret. And she didn¡¯t appreciate not having a choice of how much of her money went to pad their coffers. Nor did she appreciate being the one out there taking risks while they apparently were content to just rake in the money that she earned. It was bullshit. If there was going to be something like this Ministry, things needed to be more fair and shit.


    Either way, the point was that she definitely wasn¡¯t going to bring it up here and now. Not until she knew more and had actual leverage to pull. She cared about her teammates here in La Casa. Most of them seemed pretty cool, and she had no idea how much any given member knew about the Ministry. Maybe some of them would be just as annoyed about their income being taxed to shit. Hell, maybe all of this could be solved easily. But Dani wasn¡¯t going to take any risks until she had some solid info, and firsthand knowledge of what the fuck was going on.


    ¡°Great, then we¡¯re on the same page,¡± Isaiah announced, flashing her a quick, toothy grin that probably would¡¯ve been charming if she¡¯d had any interest in the male sex. He turned, starting to walk again. ¡°Blackjack¡¯s asked me to be your advisor for this thing. Which means getting you enrolled in a school where you can advance as much as we think you¡¯re capable of. And believe me, we think you¡¯re capable of a lot. We¡¯ll fake your previous transcripts, that won¡¯t be hard. You¡¯ll just have to finish out this year as a junior, be a senior next year, and we¡¯ll make sure you end up at a decent in-city university with a light schedule. You¡¯ll have the remaining high school time to decide what you¡¯d like your cover-career to be. Feel free to think outside the box. If you want, I¡¯ll help you go over some possibilities.¡±


    ¡°But the point right now,¡± Dani put in, ¡°is that you want me to go back to high school. High school.¡±


    ¡°Pshhh, just sign up for a private school,¡± Isaiah shot back easily. ¡°You¡¯d be amazed at the difference between that and the public cesspool. Go play at being a rich girl in some private academy with a bunch of naive spoiled kids and take them for all you can get. We¡¯ll make up something about your dad being a reclusive rich designer or something. Or maybe it¡¯s your grandparents and they live off in Europe or something. Whatever you want. We¡¯ll go flip through some options as soon as you¡¯re done with your session.¡±


    ¡°My session,¡± Dani echoed, exhaling long and slow, with a slight grimace. ¡°Right. Are you sure about this whole thing?¡±


    The answer was another grin. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, trust me. All you¡¯ve gotta do is hang out with the kid for a couple hours. She¡¯s been asking about your lizards forever. Just let her see them, teach her their names, how to play with them or whatever. You¡¯ll be great.¡±


    Yeah, Dani was supposed to sit with the boss¡¯s kid and entertain her for awhile. Apparently the girl had actually specifically asked for her a few times. Which was¡­ weird, wasn¡¯t it? It seemed weird. Either way, part of Dani wondered if Blackjack was specifically trusting her with his daughter because she¡¯d spent time with that Wren kid.


    Actually, come to think of it, how weird would it be for Wren and Melissa to get to know each other? Melissa had all kinds of trouble moving around very easily with her disease (which they were thankfully dealing with now that they had all the vials), and Wren was all about movement. Could she like, build the other kid an armored suit or something? Huh.


    Wait, was that why Blackjack was cool with her being around his daughter now? That opportunity-sense of his, did it¡­ was he just¡­ could it have told him that she could help with all that? And if she could, she would, right? Wren seemed like the kind of person who would absolutely help Melissa if it was possible. And Blackjack would definitely pay. But would that get her too involved in the Fell-Touched side of things? She¡¯d been okay with helping to save Melissa¡¯s life, how would she feel about making something for her? And how did Dani herself feel about it? Was she okay with getting that kid more deeply involved in stuff she might not want to? Even if she was good with helping Melissa, that might open the door to other things. If people found out she had supplied Blackjack with something, even if it was for his daughter, it might¡­ people on either side of the line might react in different ways to that. It might force Wren to make different choices. It might¡­


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Well, fuck. Suddenly, this whole thing seemed a lot more complicated. And this time, it wasn¡¯t even Paintball¡¯s fault.


    ********


    An hour or so later, Dani sat on the floor of Melissa¡¯s hospital-like room. The pale nine-year-old with light brown hair wore a pair of loose drawstring white pants with dueling knights all over them, and a light blue tee shirt that had her name across the front in sparkly letters. She was, at the moment, holding one of the lizards gently in both hands, being very careful with him. ¡°So this one is Mars Bar, and he¡¯s a iguana who turns into a big, strong grizzly bear, right?¡±


    Dani watched Mars Bar with a small smile. ¡°Yup. He¡¯s not even full-grown yet. I¡¯m gonna have to find another way to carry him around when he gets bigger. Your dad said he¡¯s working on that.¡±


    On that note, she tapped the floor next to another lizard, before reaching up to scratch under his chin. ¡°So who¡¯s this one?¡± She flattened her hand, letting the creature in question crawl up her arm to meet one of his companions who was already on her shoulder.


    Melissa, in turn, pointed first to the one Dani had indicated, then the other. ¡°That¡¯s Tuesday the gecko, and that¡¯s Riddles the bearded dragon. They¡¯re a monkey and an eagle. And the chameleon over there is Twinkletoes, he can turn into a gorilla. And¡­¡± She looked around for a moment, squinting thoughtfully. ¡°Oh! There she is. Holiday¡¯s a skink, and she turns into a panther.¡± She carefully set Mars Bar down while gently petting along his side, clearly enthralled.


    ¡°You¡¯ve met my friends,¡± Dani pointed out before gesturing to the two stuffed animals who sat nearby. One was a stuffed bear with a trenchcoat and deerstalker hat, holding a magnifying glass, while the other was a smaller pink crocodile on a cloth skateboard. ¡°Who¡¯re yours?¡±


    Quickly, the younger girl picked up the pair, one in each hand. ¡°This is Inspector Guillotine the detective. He¡¯s trying to be a better person cuz of Cassidy.¡± She pointed to the crocodile. ¡°That¡¯s her. She was a witness so he has to protect her, but she keeps getting in trouble so Inspector Guillotine helps her. And she helps him care about people. Which is hard for him, because his archenemy, Paws Lynch, killed his own sister. She was the inspector¡¯s wife! So he got really sad for a long time, but Cassidy helped him feel better.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Carefully, Dani took Cassidy the crocodile, turning her over curiously. ¡°Paws Lynch and Inspector Guillotine? Those are awesome names. And Cassidy Crocodile? That¡¯s a pretty cool one too.¡±


    ¡°Aunt Ellen came up with it,¡± the kid informed her. ¡°She said it was a good name for a daredevil.¡±


    ¡°Good name, huh?¡± Dani blinked up then. ¡°Is that like¡­ the name of a daredevil or something? Something Cassidy or Cassidy something?¡±


    Melissa shrugged, clearly uncertain. ¡°I dunno, but it¡¯s still a good name.¡± Changing the subject, she eagerly asked, ¡°How many lizards can you use your power on? Could you make like¡­ a whole army of lizard-animals?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Dani admitted with a shrug. She watched the assorted creatures for a moment. ¡°I mean, definitely not an army. I just¡­ I feel like there¡¯s a limit. I¡¯m not sure exactly how it works yet, and I don¡¯t know how I know that. It¡¯s just like¡­ instinct, I guess?¡± She grimaced a little. ¡°I should experiment some more. Been a little busy.¡±


    Leaning in a little conspiratorially, Melissa whispered, ¡°You wanna experiment right now?¡±


    The question made Dani blink uncertainly, squinting at the younger kid. ¡°Experiment right now? Sorry, I don¡¯t have any spare lizards to work with and my power can only give any lizard one alternate form. All these guys have their other forms. So, you know, I can¡¯t use it on them.¡±


    To her surprise, Melissa nodded. ¡°I know.  But you could use it if you had another lizard, right?¡± Slyly, she got up and moved over to the far side of her bed. Dani had already noticed that the girl always moved very slowly and carefully. She stepped gingerly, clearly afraid of how easily her bones could break if too much pressure was put on them. The medicine she¡¯d been taking was supposed to fix her, and it was working. But it would take time to repair the damage that the disease had done. And even after that, it would take longer for the girl to get over the psychological pressure of what her body had been put through for literally years.


    It was bullshit, and if Blackjack hadn¡¯t been a criminal mastermind Fell-Touched, he never would have been able to save his daughter. Rot Bone was a horrific, fucked up disease, and this totally innocent kid would¡¯ve died in one of the worst ways Dani could possibly imagine if her father wasn¡¯t a criminal who could pull up the kind of resources it took to help her.


    That was what Dani wanted. She wanted to never have to worry about money again. Not just for herself, but for any future family and friends she had. She wanted to create a legacy, the kind the real rich and powerful had. She wanted to have the kind of power that people like the Evans or the Banners had. They had so fucking much power even without being Touched, just because they were rich. All her life, Dani had been looked down on, for being black, for being a girl, for being gay, for being poor, for having a mother who didn¡¯t really care what happened to her and a dad who had died when she was still a kid, even younger than Melissa. She was just the poor little black girl who liked girls.


    Fuck that. Dani wanted more out of life. She was going to own penthouses, convertibles, go on vacations to islands. She wanted every fucking thing that those cocksuckers always told her she couldn¡¯t have for one reason or another. She didn¡¯t just want to be comfortable. She wanted ¡®fuck you money.¡¯ She wanted to have so much cash people couldn¡¯t dismiss her anymore.


    Pulled out of her thoughts by the sight of the small cage that Melissa pulled out, Dani leaned over to squint at the tiny, yet incredibly beautiful lizard inside. ¡°Whoa.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a neon day gecko!¡± Melissa exclaimed, moving back over carefully before setting the small glass cage down between them. The creature inside was only about three inches long, but had been named incredibly well. The head was a bright green, while most of the body and tail was a metallic neon blue. the legs were slightly darker blue, and there was a long black stripe running down either side of the creature.


    ¡°Holy crap, dude.¡± Dani leaned in closer, staring at the creature. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of these guys, but I¡¯ve never seen one up close. He¡¯s gorgeous.¡±


    ¡°She,¡± Melissa corrected. ¡°And yeah, she¡¯s amazing, huh? I umm, I don¡¯t really use my allowance for much, so I asked my dad if we could get you a new lizard since you umm¡­ you know, helped get my medicine. I wanted to say thanks.¡±


    Swallowing hard, Dani glanced to her. This was the real reason she¡¯d been asked to come and ¡®babysit¡¯ for awhile, she realized. It was because Melissa had wanted to give her this present. Which¡­ yeah, she really didn¡¯t know what to say for a moment, before eventually settling on, ¡°Thanks. Thanks a lot.¡±


    There was a brief moment of discomfort before Melissa hurriedly offered, ¡°Why don¡¯t you take her out? They¡¯re really friendly and fun, the lizard guy Dad brought in said so. And¡­ maybe you can decide what kind of new animal to make?¡± She was blushing a bit, clearly embarrassed. ¡°I kinda¡­ sorta¡­ wanna see?¡±


    Snorting, Dani nodded in agreement while opening up the cage to let the colorful lizard out into her palm. ¡°Sure, it¡¯s the least I can do. Let¡¯s see. First, she needs a name. Can¡¯t have powers without a name. What do you think?¡±


    Blinking at her, Melissa stammered, ¡°But your lizards all have awesome names. I can¡¯t think up a good name like you.¡±


    ¡°You came up with Inspector Guillotine and Paws Lynch,¡± Dani reminded the girl. ¡°You can definitely help with this one.¡±


    The two went back and forth on several possibilities, before both of them agreed on one that Melissa had come up with. Holding up the tiny, colorful lizard in one hand, Dani stared at her. ¡°That¡¯s right, your name is Scatters.¡± She looked to the rest of her lizards, all of whom had gathered to watch the newcomer. ¡°See, Scatters? This is your family. Guys, this is Scatters. She¡¯s gonna be our new friend. And what kind of friend¡­¡± She squinted curiously at the tiny, colorful creature. ¡°I bet you¡¯d like to be bigger, huh? Big enough to¡­ hmm¡­ Oooh, I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±


    For ten minutes or so, she sat there, focusing her power on the tiny lizard. It took that long to make the full connection, to establish the creature¡¯s alternate form. Partway through, she had to set the gradually growing neon gecko down and step back with Melissa, most of her attention still taken up with making her power work.


    Then it was done. Dani, Melissa, and the other lizards were suddenly sharing the room with a much larger figure. Where once had been a three-inch-long neon day gecko now stood a full-sized reindeer, albeit one with very reptilian features. The neon blue, scale-covered body remained, somehow even brighter and more striking in this form. The head was the same sharp green, as were the antlers. That black stripe ran down the animal¡¯s side, and her legs were a darker blue, right down to the even slightly darker hooves.


    ¡°Now that,¡± Dani announced while resting an arm gently over Melissa¡¯s shoulders, ¡°is what I¡¯ve been needing. Someone I can ride on.


    ¡°So how hard do you think it¡¯ll be to get a saddle that¡¯s the right size, with little carrying pouches for the rest of these guys?¡±

 Interlude 12B - Raindrop

    The first time that Izzy Amor had worn her official Minority costume, she had felt like a little kid playing dress-up. Largely because that was essentially what she had been. Eleven years old at the time, she¡¯d had her powers for only a little over a week. A week since the night she had climbed out her window and onto the roof of their condo in the middle of the night to escape the sound of her mother¡¯s tryst with some man she had never met. Izzy had been wishing for the chance to find her real father. Instead, she found one of the Summus Proelium orbs hovering there. In a daze, feeling like the whole thing was a dream, she had touched the orb.


    The week that followed had passed in a rush. Her mother had negotiated everything about Izzy¡¯s joining the Minority. The rules stated that, young as she was, she had to have specific parental approval to join the team in the field. Usually, people under fourteen, even after being approved to be part of the team, did not participate in field exercises. They focused on training.


    But Izzy¡¯s mother had believed that her daughter would only make a name for herself in order to join one of the good teams if she got started right away. She¡¯d wanted Izzy to stand out, the same way an enthusiastic parent might push their kid too hard to make a name for themselves in their chosen sport in order to attract colleges and pro teams. So, she had signed contracts approving Izzy¡¯s deployment into the field under controlled circumstances. Even with contracts, Izzy still couldn¡¯t go out in costume by herself, of course. You had to be at least sixteen to do solo patrols, and even then you had to earn (and request) the privilege.


    In any case, Izzy had been eleven years old and approved, thanks to her mother, for supervised, team-centered field work. After several days of adjustments and tests, her costume had fit perfectly, yet somehow still felt too big for her. Standing in front of the cameras in that dark blue bodysuit with silver armor panels, a white cloak and hood, and a mirrored faceplate that completely obscured her appearance, Izzy had felt like a fraud. She¡¯d felt as though any minute, one of the reporters was going to laugh at the idea of eleven-year-old Izzy Amor being some kind of hero. The fact they didn¡¯t actually know her name or anything about her hadn¡¯t helped calm her nerves. She had been a little kid playing dress-up with a costume that, by itself, had been more expensive than basically everything she had ever owned all put together.


    She¡¯d gone out with the team over those few months, growing slightly more comfortable with what she could do. The others had helped a lot, keeping her calm, making her feel like part of the team despite her uncertainty and misgivings. Her power was helpful not only in combat situations, but for a lot of other uses. She could put out fires, could lift heavy objects off or away from people by getting them wet and then making them float. She could even help stop some entire fights in their tracks just by bringing an intense torrential downpour of cold water. A lot of the time, people who were soaking wet from heavy rain that kept getting in their eyes stopped wanting to fight. It was especially useful for breaking up random brawls on the street between Prev gang members.


    The point was, doing all that made Izzy feel useful. She had still felt as though she didn¡¯t really belong in the expensive, incredibly cool-looking costume she¡¯d been given. After all, she hadn¡¯t done anything to earn her powers. She¡¯d just gone up to hide on the roof away from the sound of her mother having sex with some random guy. The orb came to her and suddenly she had powers she had done nothing to earn. Powers she was pretty sure she didn¡¯t actually deserve.


    But deserve them or not, she¡¯d had them. And, for those few months (during which she had turned twelve years old), she¡¯d gradually started to feel like she might be able to actually be a real part of something. She¡¯d started to feel attached to the team¡­ to her team. She¡¯d even felt as though she might be able to make her mother proud of her, might be able to give her mom the better life that Izzy knew she wanted. Things were looking up.


    Then¡­ then her mother had sold her to Oscuro. Her mother had sold her, had taken money in exchange for her, knowing that Izzy was going to be hurt. Worse than hurt, tortured. Her madre had sold Izzy to be tortured and trained, forced to do bad things for bad people just so she could have money. And not even that much money. The ultimate, indescribable act of betrayal, and her mother had done it for half a million dollars. Five hundred thousand for selling her daughter.


    Now, weeks later, here she was, a guest at the Evans¡¯ obscenely spacious and well-adorned house. Playing video games with their daughter, eating at their kitchen table, sleeping in a bed that, like her Minority costume, was clearly worth more than anything else she had ever owned.


    And again, just like her powers, Izzy had done nothing to earn it. She didn¡¯t deserve any of this, didn¡¯t deserve to be treated like one of Mr. and Mrs. Evans¡¯ children. She was just¡­ Izzy. Why should she be in this virtual palace, being treated like some kind of¡­ of important person?


    She didn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t deserve that. Which was part of what convinced Izzy that she had to go back out again as Raindrop. She didn¡¯t deserve this kind of life at all, but maybe she could at least give some of it back by helping people again. Even if the thought of dressing up in that suit and playing hero made her feel even more like she was just pretending. She could still try. She could put the suit on, go out, and try to help as many people as possible. And if she did that enough, maybe someday she wouldn¡¯t feel like such a fraud.


    That day wasn¡¯t now, however. Izzy stood in costume, staring at herself in the mirror. She was in the bedroom she¡¯d been allowed to use in the Evans¡¯ house. Cassidy was at school, and Simon was off on some kind of family business. Still, the house was busy enough that Izzy had locked the door and stuck a chair up under the knob, just to be on the safe side. The blinds and curtains were also drawn across the windows. She was definitely alone, watching herself in costume while thoughts of her mother ran through her head. The mirrored faceplate stopped Izzy from seeing her own expression, but she already knew what it looked like. Small, pale, nervously biting her lip, her dark hair a mess. Eyes that perpetually looked too wide and too wet. Not brave. Not strong. Not heroic. Just Izzy.


    Abruptly, Izzy¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. She jumped, gasping reflexively as her gaze snapped that way in time to hear Mr. Evans call, ¡°Izzy, you okay?¡±


    Finally breathing (a bit too rapidly), Izzy pulled the hood down and reached behind her head to undo the straps of the face plate, pulling that off as well as she blurted, ¡°Sorry, Mr. Evans! Umm, uhh, is it just you?¡± The question came out awkwardly, making her flush a bit at the sound of her own voice.


    There was a brief pause before the man answered, ¡°Yeah, Izzy, it¡¯s just me. Is everything alright?¡±


    Stepping over, Izzy undid the lock, pulling the chair away from the door before opening it for him. Both Mr. Evans and his wife knew all about her Touched identity. It was part of them allowing her to stay with them, as they¡¯d had to know what they were getting into. But Silversmith had assured her that he trusted the Evanses and that she would be safe with them.


    Now, she stepped away from the door, in full costume save for the faceplate and hood, the former of which was held under one arm. She was also flushed from embarrassment. ¡°Sorry, Mr. Evans,¡± she repeated, ¡°I just didn¡¯t want one of your¡­ umm, people to walk in.¡±


    The man held a hand up to stop her, while stepping through. He closed the door behind him after checking the hall. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Izzy, I promise. You¡¯re fine. Superhero or not, you¡¯re entitled to your privacy, kid, believe me.¡± He paused before offering her a small smile that she supposed many would have found handsome and charming. ¡°So, you¡¯re about ready to go out there again, huh?¡±


    Even more self-conscious, she shrugged at the question while ducking her gaze. But something made her take a deep breath before looking back to meet his eyes. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she informed the man as steadily as she could. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ********


    ¡°Wham, Rain, the truck!¡± Syndicate (Or one of him, anyway) shouted a couple hours later, as his fist slammed into the side of a tatted-up Easy Eights gang member, knocking the guy staggering backward. The Prev lashed out with his knife, but that version of Syndicate turned insubstantial, allowing the blade to pass harmlessly through him.


    At the same time, a second version of the boy, on the opposite side of their opponent, turned solid and lashed out with a kick to the small of the man¡¯s back. He was knocked forward just as the two Syndicates swapped solidity once more so the first could strip the knife from the stumbling man¡¯s hand, tossing it aside. In that second, a third Syndicate took a running leap, turning solid in mid-lunge (as the other two turned ghost-like) in time to crash into the man and take him to the ground.


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    Of course, despite her own self-assurances that she was prepared to back out on the streets, Izzy was still under sixteen. Which meant she still had to go out with a group. No solo patrolling. And that was just fine with her. Ready as she might¡¯ve been to ease back into this whole thing and work to earn the things she¡¯d been given (including her powers), Izzy didn¡¯t want to do it alone. A part of her was still afraid of what would happen if she ran into any of the Oscuro people, people who had been ready and willing to abduct her right out of her own home. According to Silversmith, who had visited the Evanses shortly after her arrival there, Cu¨¦lebre and most of the gang had been unaware of what Handler was doing. He was, supposedly, working on his own. But that didn¡¯t change much for Izzy, even if it was true. The emotions that came whenever she thought about those people¡­ she was afraid of what she felt in those moments.


    But here, now? She was with her team, all of them. They had all wanted to come out for her first night back on the job. Which was apparently a good thing, as the six of them had managed to stumble across some kind of Easy Eights job. A group of Prev thugs, led by two Fell-Touched known as Juice and Pivotal, had been loading some kind of shipment out of a warehouse and into a couple semi trucks. A night watchman had managed to call out an alert, and Raindrop¡¯s team was close enough to intercede.


    They had shown up in time to catch the gang right before they¡¯d been about to pull out. Now, Carousel, Wobble, and That-A-Way were busy with Juice (a very heavy-set black guy wearing a silver, entirely featureless and smooth helmet that covered his whole head and a black tank top that showed off his arms with their stormcloud and lightning bolt tattoos whose powers allowed him to control electricity and granted him incredible strength), near one of the trucks.


    The other truck, as Syndicate had just pointed out, was rapidly speeding through the lot. It had just turned the corner around the nearest warehouse building when Izzy snapped her gaze that way. Out of sight.


    But not for long. Even as Izzy saw the taillights of the truck disappear, Whamline jogged to her, extending a hand. ¡°Ready, kid?¡± he blurted, clearly ready to abort and go after the truck by himself if she declined. Because everyone here, all night, had been treating her with child-gloves, acting like she might break the moment anything bad happened. Even Syndicate had very obviously almost declined this whole situation the moment he heard it involved an actual Fell-Gang with powers. Not to mention the fact that, now that they were in the midst of it, the team had been going out of their way to make sure Izzy didn¡¯t even get close to any bad guys. They were trying to help, she knew, surrounding her with as much protection as possible after what happened (they were aware that her mother had tried to sell her to Oscuro), but it wasn¡¯t helpful. She wanted to prove, at least to herself, that she belonged here, not act like a little kid going bowling with the stupid rubber things in the gutters.


    Now, in this moment, Syndicate and Whamline were offering her that chance. In the midst of combat, seeing that truck about to get away, they had both either forgotten or dismissed the whole ¡®keep Raindrop away from the action.¡¯ They were giving her a chance to contribute.


    She took it, grabbing Whamline¡¯s hand before he could change his mind. The instant she did so, the older boy extended his other hand, shooting off one of his energy-coils, which caught hold of the roof of the nearby warehouse. A second later, they were being yanked up toward it.


    They¡¯d done this before, mostly in training, but part of Izzy was nervous about actually pulling it off in the field like this. Still, she shoved those doubts away and focused. An orb of water appeared in the air in front of them, soaking the two as they passed through it. And the second they were wet, she cancelled the effects of gravity on them, blurting, ¡°Now!¡±


    Whamline¡¯s coil disappeared, no longer yanking them toward the roof. Yet, thanks to the lack of gravity, the pair were still hurling up and forwards. Their momentum carried them clear over the roof, passing above the warehouse and to the other side just in time to see the semi-truck below heading for the street.


    There it was. Seeing it down there, Izzy focused on increasing the effect of gravity on herself and her teammate. They dropped like a pair of heavy stones, crashing straight down while she restrained the urge to scream. Trust. Trust herself. She had to trust herself and her partner.


    Whamline sent out two coils as they dropped, which latched onto the back of the truck and hauled them both that way. They were still dropping so fast Izzy¡¯s stomach felt like it was somewhere up around her throat. Still, she waited, waited¡­


    Just in time, at the last possible second before it would have been too late, she cancelled and then reversed the effect of gravity on them. Momentum carried the pair forward, until the reversed gravity worked to negate it. Izzy had practiced this enough that, while there was a slightly painful jerk, it wasn¡¯t too bad. The reversed gravity and Whamline¡¯s coils worked together to catch them almost like a parachute, just as the two landed on top of the speeding truck.


    ¡°You got this?!¡± Whamline called, using one arm to hold onto Izzy while the other maintained one of his coils to hold them against the truck.


    ¡°Got it!¡± she confirmed. All her fears, nerves, and everything else seemed to wash away as she focused on her power. Ahead of the speeding truck, a ball of water appeared. It began as an orb that was only a few feet across, but very quickly grew larger. By the time the truck hit it, unable to stop, the ¡®bubble¡¯ was almost as large as the truck itself.


    Izzy and Whamline threw themselves flat against the roof of the trailer, just as the truck crashed through the water. The instant it did and soaked itself, Izzy threw every bit of her power into cancelling its gravity.


    It worked. The truck floated up off the ground, leaving the engine screaming and tires spinning uselessly. They couldn¡¯t go anywhere.


    Strong as her power might¡¯ve been, it took effort to make it work over something as big as a truck. More effort than Izzy was capable of keeping up for long. Still, she didn¡¯t have to keep it going. A couple seconds after making the truck lift a few feet off the ground, she increased gravity on the cab part alone. The trailer continued floating, while the truck itself slammed downward, hitting the pavement with enough force to crumple the hood and front-end and shatter the windshield. The truck definitely wasn¡¯t going anywhere anymore.


    The doors of the truck were thrown open, as two figures launched themselves out of either side. One was a random thug with a gun, who landed on his side on the ground, already pointing his pistol up toward them. But Whamline was on top of that, one of his coils smacking the weapon out of the man¡¯s hand while another lifted him up and threw him out of the way.


    The man who dove out of the driver¡¯s side of the truck, however, was Pivotal, a small, thin guy in a green bodysuit with white highlights and a white ski mask. His power allowed him to designate any point of any non-living object as a pivot and make more of that object rotate or revolve around that point. Which he used right then by making a section of the ground rotate upward even as he jumped from the truck, landing on that vertically twisted bit of pavement.


    Izzy sent a geyser of water at the man, but he backflipped away from his raised platform while simultaneously making a larger section pivot upward to block the spray of water. At the same moment, the truck split in half under herself and Whamline as Pivotal obviously designated the spot beneath their feet as a pivot point and bent the trailer to the side away from them.


    They fell, but Izzy lowered gravity, allowing the pair to land lightly, facing the large section of pavement (it was about nine feet high and six feet wide) blocking them from Pivotal.


    Whamline threw three quickly summoned energy coils at the raised ground, making them explode to send a shower of debris in every direction. Izzy was already sending a new wave of water that way, just in time to catch¡­


    Nothing. The area behind the raised ground was empty. No one was there. Pivotal had disappeared.


    ¡°The ground,¡± Izzy realized a second after she and Whamline had stood there in confusion. She pointed. ¡°He lifted the ground out of the way to get down under it. Now he¡¯s tunnelling¡­ somewhere. He just umm, he just has to rotate sections of ground out of his way, see?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s running,¡± Whamline muttered, looking in every direction. ¡°Shit¨CI mean¡­¡± He coughed, turning in a circle. ¡°Guess you don¡¯t really think about ¡®power to rotate things¡¯ being that impressive, but¡­¡±


    That-A-Way appeared beside them, teleporting into view before looking around. ¡°What¨CJuice took off, what about you guys?¡±


    ¡°Ours got away too,¡± Izzy admitted, folding her arms across her chest while adding an explanation of how Pivotal had escaped.


    ¡°Well, we got most of the Prev thugs.¡± That was one of the Syndicates, approaching while still in his ghost-form. ¡°And stopped them from escaping with the trucks. The Fell-Touched might¡¯ve escaped, but they didn¡¯t get what they were after. Which¡­ what were they¨C¡±


    ¡°Guns,¡± Carousel called, approaching with a shrunken object revolving around her. She sent it forward and let it resume its full size as an open crate that landed on the ground between them. ¡°Guns by the tons.¡±


    She was right, Izzy realized. The crate was full of firearms. And all the crates that had fallen out of the split-open trailer nearby also had weapons in them. Guns, shields, ammunition, grenades of all sorts, explosives¡­


    ¡°God damn,¡± That-A-Way muttered, ¡°what the hell is all this for?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re prepping for a war,¡± Carousel noted, ¡°but to even what score?¡±


    Syndicate swallowed hard, speaking up. ¡°Let¡¯s call it in and get people here to clean the place up before those guys come back with reinforcements to get all this stuff. But I think you¡¯re right, Carousel.


    ¡°The Easy Eights are getting ready for war.¡±

 New Deals 13-01

    The shrill shriek of a store alarm filled the air the next night, as a couple guys in dark masks came tearing through the door they¡¯d already busted open not even two minutes earlier. From the perch atop the billboard that I¡¯d just landed on, I saw both of them scramble away from the closed convenience store. Their arms were full, each carrying a couple bags worth of stuff as they raced past the dark gas pumps and headed for the mostly-empty street. Whoever these guys were, they¡¯d chosen a target near an area of town that was pretty quiet at one in the morning. Which was probably why the gas station was closed to begin with, come to think of it.


    Either way, I launched myself off the sign using a spot of blue paint under my feet. Rocketing ahead of the two guys, I hit them each with a quick spray of yellow to slow them down, before flipping myself over to land directly between them while activating the orange parachute and green rabbit shapes that were already on my back. With myself sped up and the two guys slowed down, it was child¡¯s play to grab the bags out of their hands, tossing them behind myself before quickly blurting, ¡°Holy crap, did you guys win one of those contests where you get to keep anything you can grab in like sixty seconds or something? Cuz¡­¡± Trailing off, I hit them both with red paint in the chest, jumping back while shooting a matching bit of red in front of them. A quick activation yanked the two facedown onto the pavement. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re supposed to wait for the news crews to be around before you cash in one of those.¡±


    Personally, I thought it was kinda funny. Not the best, but hey, maybe worth a very slight chuckle. Okay, maybe not even that. But it definitely wasn¡¯t worth crying over. Which¡­ was the next sound I heard. Crying. Stopping short, I cocked my head to the side, staring down at the figure to the right. Crying. He was definitely crying. Um. Well shit, this was kinda awkward now.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m sorry,¡± came the babbled words. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it was stupid, it was so stupid, we¡¯re sorry.¡± The voice was so choked up by tears I could barely understand what was being said.


    ¡°Dude!¡± The other person snapped suddenly. It was a female voice, breaking my assumption that both of the thieves had been male. Which, given my entire situation, was probably a pretty bad assumption to have in the first place. ¡°Shut the fuck up, don¡¯t admit anything!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ think you necessarily have to admit anything?¡± I pointed out weakly, still confused by what was going on. ¡°We¡¯re like¡­ a couple hundred feet from the store. You barely made it out of the parking lot. A few feet closer and you¡¯d still be on their property. The property of the store you just¡­ broke into. And the bags with all the stuff you stole are right¡­¡± I reached back, grabbing one of them. ¡°¡­ here?¡± It didn¡¯t jingle or anything. Opening up the bag, I found a bunch of bags of chips, sandwiches from the cooler, beef jerky, some sweets, a few packaged fruits and cheeses, that kind of thing.


    While I was busy staring down into the bag, the red paint must¡¯ve run out. Because the female on the ground was suddenly on her feet, grabbing the crying boy and yanking him up. They started to run, until I hit them both with more red paint to yank them back to the ground. That time I used orange too, just to make sure it didn¡¯t hurt.


    The boy was still shaking and crying. The girl was shaking too, but also cursing up a storm. She threatened all sorts of anatomically impossible things, lying there on her back. And now that I stared at them, I noticed¡­ they weren¡¯t adults. Even with the ski masks on, that much was obvious. Fuck. Fuck, looking at them now, like this? They were barely my age, if that. They were teenagers.


    Quickly, I dropped to my knees between them, setting the bag aside. ¡°Stop it, hey. What the hell are you guys doing stealing this stuff?¡± Even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were pretty dumb. But I didn¡¯t know what else to say. My mind was scrambling. I¡¯d just heard the alarm while Paintballing around to clear my head a bit, already thinking about heading home. I heard the alarm and reacted. I¡¯d expected to find hardened criminals stealing from a jewelry store or something, not¡­ this.


    Sure enough, the masked girl blurted, ¡°We heard there¡¯s a golden ticket to Willy Wonka¡¯s factory in one random bit of gas station shit, and really want to swim in a chocolate fucking fountain, prick!¡±


    ¡°Murphy, stop it!¡± the boy blurted, still shuddering. He managed to twist his head to look at me. ¡°W-we¡¯re sorry, we¡¯re sorry. We were just¡­ we were hungry. And our friends, my little sister, her big brother, we¨Cwe just wanted¨Cwe didn¡¯t think it was¨Cwe didn¡¯t know there was an alarm and then it was so loud and we were just g-gonna be really quick and¨C¡±


    ¡°Roald, I swear to God if you don¡¯t stop confessing to shit!¡± the girl, Murphy apparently, snapped. She was staring at me too. I could see the fear in her eyes despite her bluster. The mask didn¡¯t cover them, leaving the wetness visible. She was just as scared as her companion about what was happening, even if she was better at hiding it verbally.


    Well fuck. God damn it, I did all this to stop real bad guys, and now I was¡­ what, knocking down teenagers who were trying to feed their friends with gas station shit? Despite myself, I demanded, ¡°Where¡¯s your parents? Why don¡¯t they feed you? What¨C¡±


    ¡°Prison, fuckface!¡± came the retort from the girl. ¡°Cuz they¡¯re hardened fucking criminals for slinging a few happy pills to consenting adults. You got any other stupid questions?¡±


    ¡°Murph,¡± Roald all-but moaned, his terror mixed heavily with exasperation, ¡°Please.¡± The boy was clearly terrified of what antagonizing me was going to do. Which somehow made me feel even worse about the whole situation. God damn it. This was just supposed to be a quick little nothing, stopping a couple thugs from ripping off a gas station. What the hell?


    The brief sound of a siren interrupted my thoughts, making my gaze snap up. A few streets away, a cop car with its lights on had just used its siren for an instant to get through the intersection and was on its way. There were another couple intersections for it to go through, but the car would be here in just a few moments.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to jail. We¡¯re going to jail,¡± Roald lamented, already linking his hands behind his head with his mask-covered face against the ground. ¡°Please. Just¡­ just keep me, okay? Just keep me and let her go. Our families, they¡¯ve gotta have her around. I swear, I¡¯ll take the fall, I¡¯ll confess, just let Murph go.¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, Roald!¡± Murphy snapped at him. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you, got it? It was my idea, I pushed you into it, so¨C¡±


    She stopped talking then, because I was yanking her up by the arm. My other hand was pulling Roald as well, as I activated a purple bear figure on one of my shoulders. It was enough of a boost that I could haul them both to their feet, while putting blue on my own shoes to launch myself upward. The two squealed in surprise, as we flew up and over to land on the roof of a nearby fast food place. Releasing them instantly, I hit them with black paint, activating it before yanking the two down with me as I dropped to my stomach. ¡°Be quiet,¡± I hissed sharply.


    Below us, the cop car had just pulled into the lot of the gas station. I could sense the eyes of Roald and Murphy on me, both of them clearly confused as to what the fuck I was doing. Which was fair, considering I was pretty confused about what the fuck I was doing too.


    A couple cops got out of the car. One moved to look at the shattered glass of the door where one of these two had broken it with a brick or something. The other noticed the bags on the ground off in the distance and walked that way. He approached cautiously, shining his flashlight around the bags before gingerly touching the nearest with his nightstick. Then he checked more thoroughly and called out something to his partner about idiots dropping their ¡®loot.¡¯


    Just to be on the safe side as Murphy bristled beside me, I hit both of my delinquent companions with another shot of black paint to keep them quiet. I¡¯d already painted my entire costume black as well, to blend in more. We watched from our prone positions as two more cop cars pulled in, lights flashing, and the ones who were already here went to confer with them. Another car, that one apparently not a cop (the owner of the gas station, maybe?) pulled in nearby as well. He and a few of the police went into the store while others spread out and started looking around. They didn¡¯t exactly seem to be putting their all into any kind of real search, honestly. Mostly they were chatting in pairs while halfheartedly shining flashlights around. None of them even bothered to look up toward the roofs. Obviously, they were convinced that whoever broke in was long gone. And the bags full of stolen shit were right there.


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    Most of the cops left within about ten minutes. The last ones were the pair who showed up first, who seemed to be taking a statement from the owner. They went into the store itself again, and I exhaled before pushing myself to my feet. Turning, I walked away a few steps before putting my hands against the front of my helmet, pushing the front part up so I could feel my hands against the mask while letting out a low groan. A few muttered curses escaped me.


    What the hell was I doing? Why did I do that? What was I even thinking? Why didn¡¯t I just turn these guys in? Why¡¯d I take them with me and keep them quiet. Hid them. That¡¯s what I did. I fucking hid them from the cops. Why? Just¡­ just¡­ they were hungry. They were teenagers, not out for any kind of thrill or to fuck with that guy, but because they were hungry. They, and the people they cared about, were hungry enough that they¡¯d risked prison by smashing their way into a gas station to grab a couple bags worth of random crap food. Sandwiches, snacks, things they could¡¯ve taken back to their families to fill their stomachs. They weren¡¯t hardened criminals. They weren¡¯t thugs. They were just scared, hungry kids doing something stupid out of desperation. And I almost sent them to prison for it. Breaking and entering, burglary, whatever else the authorities could throw at them. And that kind of thing would follow them forever. Just because they were hungry.


    ¡°Hey!¡± The initial, blurted word from the girl was sharp, a snapped demand that immediately shifted to a clearly awkward, confused, ¡°What¡­ what¡¯re you doing?¡±


    Yeah, these two obviously had no more idea what the fuck was going through my head than I did. No wonder they were just sort of standing there staring at me like my legs had just morphed into a plate of spaghetti or something. They probably still weren¡¯t entirely sure I wasn¡¯t just going to decide to grab them and turn them in after all. They were stuck here on this roof with me.


    At first, I didn¡¯t say anything. I just held up a hand for them to wait a minute while staring off into the distance. Fuck. What was I going to do? What was my next move after all this, exactly? I had to think. I had to figure¡­ something out. Something besides throwing them to the cops. But what?


    I could hear the two whispering behind me. Not enough to make out the actual words, but they were definitely murmuring about what was going on. Apparently this whole situation was confusing them. Which¡­ yeah, fair enough. I¡¯d probably be pretty confused too, in their shoes.


    In the end, I finally came to the only real decision I could. It was the only thing that made sense to me. Pivoting on my heel, I faced the two, whose gazes snapped away from each other to stare at me as though totally convinced that I was about to take them to the cops after all.


    ¡°Okay, guys,¡± I started, doing my best to sound confident and firm instead of like I was just flying by the seat of my pants with this whole thing. It probably wasn¡¯t enough to convince them after I¡¯d just spent several minutes very clearly silently freaking out, but maybe it was the effort that counted. Either way, I pushed on. ¡°First, I¡¯m not turning you in to the cops. But¨C¡±


    That was as far as I got, as the two high-fived and made an assorted bit of noise until I hit them with black paint again. ¡°Wait a minute,¡± I hissed sharply. ¡°You know, keep making a bunch of sound right now and I won¡¯t have to turn you in, cuz those cops¡¯ll come see what¡¯s going on.¡±


    That obviously hit home, and both of them sobered, shrinking inward a bit. Satisfied, I continued. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m not turning you in to the authorities. Not this time. But you¡¯re gonna have to do some things for me in exchange for not going to prison.¡±


    Murphy immediately took a step in front of Roald, protecting her friend. ¡°Do some things for you?¡± she echoed as the black paint wore off, suspicion heavy in her voice. ¡°Like what? If you think we¡¯re just gonna¨C¡±


    Roald put a hand on her arm, leaning in to whisper something to her. I caught a bit about hearing me out, and that it had to be better than going to prison. The look she shot him made it clear she was thinking of all sorts of ways that wouldn¡¯t necessarily be true.


    ¡°Okay, hold on,¡± I quickly put in, holding up my hands. ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask you to do anything bad. Just¡­ work.¡± I was still planning this whole thing out in my head while I was talking. The thought I¡¯d had was based entirely on my situation with the Seraphs. I was essentially stealing that wholesale. ¡°I won¡¯t turn you in, but you have to do work to make up for it.¡±


    ¡°What kind of work?¡± Murphy demanded, though her voice was softer. She clearly wasn¡¯t the least bit eager to throw away this chance and go to prison, despite her obvious suspicion.


    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure yet,¡± I admitted. ¡°But I¡¯ll find some kind of¡­ helpful thing you can do for the community or something. I¡¯ll find it, and you guys will do it.¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± That was Roald, raising a hand. ¡°How¡¯re you gonna make us do that? I mean, how¡¯re you gonna find us after this? You don¡¯t even¨C¡± He stopped then, apparently reconsidering pointing out that I didn¡¯t know what their faces looked like under those masks.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to make you take your masks off,¡± I assured them both. ¡°I mean, the hypocrisy of that might crack the planet in half. But I know your names. And you¡¯re not exactly hardened criminals, so I dare bet you live not too far away from this place. Exactly how hard do you think it¡¯d be for me to track you down if I just started going around asking for two teenagers named Murphy and Roald? Particularly a girl named Murphy.¡±


    From the look the two gave each other, my point struck home. They knew I was right, it wouldn¡¯t be hard to find them with their names if I really tried.


    ¡°Um, okay, fine.¡± Murphy sounded a bit shaken. Obviously she¡¯d figured out that they shouldn¡¯t have used each other¡¯s real names. ¡°We get it. So what¡¯re we supposed to do?¡±


    ¡°Be back here, behind this building on Friday night.¡± I replied quickly. Two days, that would give me time to actually figure out what the hell I was going to have them do to make up for this. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of the broken door and all that¡­ this time. In exchange, I¡¯ll find something for you guys to do. But you be here in two days at midnight. Got it? Two days, midnight, here. If I don¡¯t make it within half an hour, feel free to take off and I¡¯ll meet you back here the night after that. You know, just in case something happens.¡±


    The two agreed to show up then, and I took a breath before turning away from them. Reaching into the pocket of my suit, I carefully counted out some cash, considering before adding a little bit more. Then I turned back to them and held it out.


    ¡°Here. This is two hundred dollars. Take it and get your families the food they need for a little while. But I want receipts, guys. Make the two hundred stretch as much as you can. Get real food, not gas station crap. Go to the grocery store, buy good things. Rice, beans, meat, canned stuff. Get decent food, as much as you can, and show me the receipts when we meet again, got it?¡±


    The two stared at me. Murphy found her voice first. ¡°Y-you¡¯re¡­ just¡­ giving us two hundred dollars for food? Why? What¡¯s in it for you?¡±


    ¡°Like I said,¡± I pointed out, ¡°you¡¯ll be working it off. This too. You¡¯ll work off this money and the fact that you broke into that shop down there. I just know people need a break sometimes, okay? So I¡¯m giving you a break. Don¡¯t make me regret it.¡±


    They both hesitantly agreed, and I helped them down to the ground. With one more warning that they had better be here on Friday night, I watched them run off, flipping on my night vision so I could see them for longer, until they were out of sight.


    Then I flipped the vision in my helmet back to normal, and took a quick walk around the corner. The owner of the gas station was alone by that point, sitting in his car as he talked on the phone. The car itself had been pulled up to park right by the broken door, and it sounded like he was arguing about getting someone out there to fix it and how much it would cost.


    Right. How was I going to do this part? Frowning uncertainly, I thought for a moment while watching the man in the car. In the end, I went for the simple option. Which was to use a bit of paper and pen from my pocket (no way did I want this associated with my paint), and scrawl out a quick, blocky all caps note reading, ¡®SORRY FOR THE DOOR.¡¯ Then I took an extra five hundred dollars, red painted that and the note to a rock I found, and hurled the rock that way. It bounced off the ground loud enough to attract the man¡¯s attention, just as the red paint wore off.


    Watching as the store owner picked up the note and the cash before looking around in confusion, I quickly ducked back. Breathing out, I turned to leave. That would have to be good enough for now. I¡¯d figure out what work I could have those two do. But at the moment, I really had to get home and get some sleep.


    At least, that was the plan. Unfortunately, no sooner had I turned to start to leave, than I found myself face-to-face (so to speak) with the slightly familiar sight of a tall-ish woman in a dark red bodysuit with black random swirly lines, black boots and gloves, and a pair of red goggles and a gas mask over her face.


    Cavalcade. It was the Sell-Touched Cavalcade, the mercenary I¡¯d met when I was abducted by Deicide¡¯s men, by Janus.


    ¡°Fancy meeting you here, kid,¡± came the woman¡¯s almost-purred words. ¡°Hope you¡¯re not too busy right now.


    ¡°Cuz my new employer would really like to talk to you.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 6

    That-A-Way¡¯s First Experiments With Her Powers, Just Over One Year Ago


    ¡°Okay, what the hell?!¡± Amber O¡¯Connell blurted in the privacy of her own bedroom, while the speakers from her computer blared out music from Spotify to ensure her mother wouldn¡¯t hear what she was up to. She was standing by the door, staring very intently at a spot by the closet directly across from her. ¡°Work! Come on, you did it before! What the fuck, did I get a defective orb or something?¡±


    The Summus Proelium sphere. That¡¯s what it was. That was the thing that had appeared earlier that day, while Amber was losing her mind over the realization that all the work she¡¯d put into finding the person who had killed her father in a hit-and-run was useless because the car had been stolen. So the owner wasn¡¯t responsible. It was a total dead-end. She had been¡­ not dealing with that very well, when the sphere appeared in front of her. She¡¯d touched it, seen visions of herself, her dad¡­ her poor dad. She saw the car that had hit him, the man she thought was responsible, she saw everything she¡¯d done to track him down, all for nothing.


    Then she¡¯d come out of it, stumbled forward, and in an instant, she had been a hundred yards away. She¡¯d teleported. She had absolutely, totally teleported!


    But now she couldn¡¯t. She was standing here, where no one could see her, and her power just wouldn¡¯t work. Was that it? Had her power been something like, ¡®teleport one time?¡¯ What bullshit was that?! How was she going to find her father¡¯s killer if her powers didn¡¯t even work?


    Annoyed, Amber stalked forward while throwing both hands up in the air. How was she supposed to use a superpower that wouldn¡¯t listen to her?! Was teleporting hard? She¡¯d focused on it as much as she could for the past five minutes, but nothing happened. Not even a flicker. Why didn¡¯t it work?! In frustration, she brought both fists against her closet door.


    And her hands went right through it. Through it as in through it, as if the door wasn¡¯t there at all. The door was still intact, but her hands were¡­ were like ghost-hands. Wait. Eyes wide, the dark-haired girl slowly extended both arms, sticking them further through the closet.


    Behind her, the bedroom door started to open while her mother called, ¡°Amber, what¡¯ve I said about blaring your music so¨C¡±


    Spinning, Amber lunged that way with a gasp. And, in the next instant, she was there. She was right next to the door. Teleport. She had teleported again. Also, her hands were solid, a fact she found out quite suddenly as she banged into the door to stop her mother from barging in. ¡°Sorry, Mom!¡± she blurted. ¡°I¡¯ll turn it down.¡± No way was she going to explain all of this right now.


    After a quick back-and-forth where Amber promised to gather her laundry and bring it down, her mother left. With a sigh, the girl shoved the door shut once more and turned. ¡°Okay, teleport. Since you¡¯re working again, let¡¯s go.¡± Once more, she focused on the spot by the closet.


    Nothing. Again. A long, heavy groan of frustration left her. ¡°What?! Why¨Cwhat the hell?¡±


    Okay, wait. With a thoughtful frown, Amber walked forward toward the closet, still trying to focus on her power. Her hand rose and extended, until she walked right into the closet door¡­ and passed through it. Her hand was in the closet, sticking through the door like it wasn¡¯t there.


    She couldn¡¯t teleport from the entrance of her room to the closet, but she could¡­ turn intangible? And if she went from her closet to the bedroom entrance¡­ Amber looked that way and focused again.


    There. She was right there, by the bedroom door. She¡¯d teleported across the length of her room with a thought. So what the fuck? Why could she do it in one direction but not another? What sense did that make? And why was she intangible going the other way? What?


    Turning back toward the closet, Amber focused once more. She thought about using her power and stepped forward while slowly putting her hand out toward the end of her bed. And just like that, she was intangible again. Her hand passed through the foot of the bed like it wasn¡¯t there.


    Okay¡­ she turned to look at the bedroom door, only to yelp as her hand abruptly jerked away on its own. It had gone back to being solid and automatically snapped away from the bed it had still been inside of just because she turned¨Cwait. Just because she turned to face the other way.


    A thought sent her from the bed over to the entrance to her room. Teleport. Turning back the other way and focusing on her power, she was intangible (a fact that was proven as she waved her hand out to the side and made it pass through a shelf full of trophies and pictures).


    Right. She could teleport, but only when going one specific direction? Was the direction from her bedroom door to her closet the same way she¡¯d been facing when she¡¯d teleported the first time? It had to be, right? And facing the other way, toward her bedroom entrance, she was intangible. But why? Why did she have one power facing one way and a different power facing the other way? Gluegirl (the hot super chick on the New York Conservators that Amber¡¯d had a crush on basically since she¡¯d figured out she liked girls) didn¡¯t have to worry about things like what direction she was facing.


    Wait, more importantly, did it work in other directions? Did she have teleportation through a hundred and eighty degrees  and intangibility through the other hundred and eighty? Curious, Amber stepped to the middle of the room, facing the closet. She did an about-face, turning to her right at exactly the midpoint between the closet and doorway. Taking a breath, she focused again on using her power. The problem, of course, being that she wasn¡¯t exactly sure what the power was. Would it just be teleportation or intangibility again? Curious, she put a hand out toward her desk. Nope, solid. Definitely solid. Then she focused on staring intently at the spot by the window. Teleport¡­ teleport¡­ nothing. Right, so she didn¡¯t just have the two powers. There had to be something else, but how was she supposed to guess what it was?


    With an annoyed sigh, the girl took a step toward the window. And suddenly, she was slamming face-first into the window. She hadn¡¯t teleported. No. She had actually moved through the entire space to get there, she¡¯d just done it incredibly quickly. So quickly that she¡¯d actually crashed into the window and bounced off it with a yelp.


    Hold on, hold on! Scrambling to her feet, Amber turned to the door, thinking hard about the hallway outside her room.


    She was there. She¡¯d faced the bedroom entrance, thought about it, and was suddenly on the far side of the door, in the hallway.


    Oh fuck, that was really stupid. If her mother had been standing there, what¨Cshit. She¡¯d been so intent on testing this out that she hadn¡¯t even thought about that. Luckily, however, her mother had gone back downstairs. Amber was alone in the hall.


    Turning to face the same way she¡¯d been going when she¡¯d bounced off her window, Amber hesitated just for a second before launching herself into a sprint. Once again, she was incredibly fast, crossed the entire distance, past her parents¡¯ bedroom, the sewing room, and the upstairs bathroom all in an instant before bouncing off the wall at the far end. She yelped, falling on her rear at the top of the stairs.


    ¡°Amber?¡± Her mother called from below. ¡°What¡¯re you doing up there?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, Mom!¡± the girl blurted, hurriedly picking herself up. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m just¨C¡± Under her breath, she finished, ¡°¨Ca fucking superhero.¡±


    Wait, wait. What about the other way? Looking back the way she had come, Amber thought about it. Intangibility when she was facing her closet. Teleportation when she was facing the entrance to her bedroom. Superspeed when going toward the stairs at this end of the hall. But what about going back the other way?


    Well, shit. After another five minutes of focusing and walking back and forth, she still had no idea. She had a sense of something happening. There was just a feeling she got somewhere in the pit of her stomach when her power was working. It was there when she was fast, when she teleported, and when she turned intangible. And it was definitely there when she was facing the other way. But as to what it actually did? No clue. None. She definitely couldn¡¯t fly. And how weird would that be anyway, being able to fly but only in one direction? Probably only slightly weirder than only being able to teleport or run superfast in one direction, come to think of it.


    Either way, she had no idea what moving that direction did. Which was just dumb. How many Touched got powers and couldn¡¯t even figure out what one of them did?


    With a sigh after failing for another ten minutes at deciphering the power, she headed downstairs. She¡¯d been smelling cookies for awhile. Getting some sugar and chocolate, that would help her think about how to figure this out, right?


    Seeing her mother down the hall in the laundry, Amber called, ¡°Hey, is it okay if I grab a couple of those cookies?!¡± The whole time, she kept focusing on her power, trying to see if anything would happen.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Is it okay if you what?¡± Her mother prompted without turning around as she sorted the clothes.


    ¡°Please,¡± Amber added, restraining the urge to roll her eyes.


    ¡°Yes, take a few,¡± came the answer. ¡°But leave enough for the Moensens, I¡¯m taking some over there in a couple minutes!¡±


    ¡°Kay!¡± With that, Amber moved into the kitchen. There, the cookie sheet was on top of the stove. Full of delicious, delicious chocolate chip scrumptiousness. Reaching out, she tapped the metal pan once to check the heat before picking it up and turning with it to grab a plate so she could slide the cookies she wanted right off onto it.


    Fucking owww! The second that Amber turned toward the island counter, the metal tray in her hand abruptly turned burning hot, and she yelped while dropping the pan.


    The cookies and pan were falling. But they were doing so incredibly slowly. Speed. Her speed, she was facing the right way to have speed, and it had kicked in. In a rush, Amber forgot her burned hand, quickly grabbing a nearby oven mitt from the island. She had time to slide it onto her hand, grab the pan, and quickly right it while catching all the falling cookies before any could hit the floor.


    That done, the girl turned back to the stove and set the pan down once more before staring at it with wide eyes. Hot. It had suddenly turned hot as soon as she wasn¡¯t facing this way. Did that¡­ did that mean¡­?


    She reached out without thinking about her power. She¡¯d been focusing on it the whole time she¡¯d been in the kitchen, so intent on trying to figure out what the power actually did while facing that way, that she hadn¡¯t even thought about using it while picking up the pan.


    Fuck! Hot! Without focusing on her power, the tray was too hot to touch. But then she focused on it once more, getting that feeling in the pit of her stomach. And once again, the tray wasn¡¯t hot at all. Did¡­ did that mean her power when facing this way was ¡®immunity from heat?¡¯


    No, wait. Hold on. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure her mother wasn¡¯t around, Amber reached out to grab a knife from the nearby drawer. Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, she once more focused on her power while touching the knife to her own arm. Gently at first, but with gradually increasing pressure.


    It worked. Or rather, it didn¡¯t work. The knife wouldn¡¯t cut her.


    She¡¯d figured it out! Invulnerability. She had teleportation when moving one way, intangibility the opposite way from that, superspeed when moving a third direction, and she was invulnerable when moving the opposite way from that. Four different powers when moving in four different directions! She finally had it! Holy shit, she had superpowers and she knew how to use them!


    ¡°Oh fuck,¡± Amber managed, while staring at the tray full of rescued cookies.


    ¡°What the hell am I gonna name myself?¡±


    ********


    Lucent


    As the sun set, and the streetlights began to glow, a single dark-colored bird perched atop one of those lamps. There were identical bird figures atop the roof of the nearby pharmacy building, on the edge of a railing across the street, atop another streetlamp a block away, and on the ladder of a fire escape in the alley between the pharmacy and the building next to it.


    None of those other figures moved. But the first, the one atop the light directly in front of the pharmacy itself, cocked his head to the side, studying the doors below, then the street in either direction. From the perspective of anyone down there, he would be almost invisible in that position, perched above the light.


    That near-invisibility grew even stronger as the dark raven¡¯s feathers abruptly shifted color. What were once black turned a silvery-gray to blend in with the lamppost. At the same time, the motionless bird figures shifted to match the color of their surroundings as well. Then there was peace, the only sound being that of the cars passing by below and a few pedestrians hurrying to their own vehicles to get home.


    That relative calm was interrupted by the sound of a voice cackling, ¡°Hehe, hey Luci, heard you¡¯re a proud papa now.¡±


    The voice was only audible through the tiny earpiece, hidden under his feathers, that Lucent wore stuck gently but firmly in the hole. The earpiece conveyed sound through the various communication networks the Touched raven was linked to. In this case, it was a personal channel, one that he and other Touched animals throughout the country were a part of. Some of them were more active talkers than others, some used a text-to-speech program to talk, and some didn¡¯t say anything at all. They simply listened. Lucent understood those last ones. They found it hard to find the right thing to say, but still wanted to be a part of the Touched-animal chat room to stave off the loneliness that came with being part of the few non-human intelligent creatures on the planet. Touched animals of any kind were rare to begin with, so any individual would at best have a few others of their species. Some had none at all, and lived their lives as the only member of their kind with intelligent thought.


    The one teasing him through the com, in that moment, was a member of that last type. His name was Postal, and he was an alligator living in Florida. The only Touched alligator that was known to exist. Beyond his enhanced intelligence, Postal¡¯s powers allowed him to mark any target he was looking at. As long as he continued looking at that target, any non-melee attack that Postal was aware of could be redirected to it rather than to its intended destination. This included gunshots, ranged powers, even such simple things as thrown balls. In addition, Postal could mark a single target that any ranged attack would veer away from. This he didn¡¯t need to constantly look at, but the effect would fade if the marked target left his general area.


    ¡°You have been reading the Sphere¡­ forum again, I presume?¡± Lucent calmly replied, pitching his voice to be quite low. The pause in the middle came as he took a breath. He wasn¡¯t wearing the device on his beak that often projected his words. As a raven, one of the few animals in the world who could physically speak human language without extra technical aid, Lucent didn¡¯t actually need such a device all the time. But it made extended conversations easier, as given his small size, he lacked much lung capacity for speaking long sentences without taking a break to breathe.


    In this case, however, he¡¯d wanted to blend in and look like any other bird for anyone who had been watching him approach this place. There were rumors that one of the Fell-gangs was going to make a move on the pharmacy he was perched outside of, and Lucent was determined not to let another shipment of much-needed medical supplies disappear. The other bird-like figures perched around the street were part of his own power. Essentially, they were statues whose heads could move to look around. Lucent could shift his own vision at any point to see through their eyes in order to watch more of the surrounding area. In any combat situation, the statues could also project concussive blasts from one eye and lasers from the other.


    ¡°Sure have,¡± Postal confirmed that he had been reading Sphere. ¡°How come you never told me you had a bouncy bundle of joy in the world, huh? Really bouncy, from the sound of it.¡±


    For a moment, Lucent didn¡¯t respond. He was watching a pair of figures at the far end of the street, half-hidden in a doorway. He¡¯d thought they might have been suspicious, just standing there in the shadows. Then he realized they were rather involved with one another, physically.


    ¡°Well now,¡± he abruptly replied while instinctively puffing himself up a bit, ¡°¡®Twould hardly be¡­ appropriate to put such a¡­ son in the spotlight before he¡­ was properly raised, would it?¡± Again, he had to pause now and then to take a breath.


    That raised a few comments from other Tonis (TOuched Nonhuman Individual) in the chat, including Lion, the Tech-Touched mouse from Seattle who designed elaborate defensive structures. She¡¯d been too busy with a recent project and had no idea what they were talking about. So, in a way that made it clear he was leaning into the obvious joke, Lucent explained the ongoing theory amongst those in the Detroit section of the Sphere forum that the newest (very human) Star-Touched was secretly Lucent¡¯s own son.


    After more teasing back and forth, there was a soft chime followed by the sound of Lion saying her name, an alert that she was inviting him to a private chat. He accepted after taking another look around to ensure the area around the building was still clear.


    ¡°Lucent?¡± came the always hesitant, nervous voice of Lion. ¡°I ahh, I know you joke about it. But how¡¯re you doing with this whole son thing? I know you¡­ that boy you used to be with in that theater, before you were Touched¡­¡±


    ¡°Bradley,¡± Lucent managed, as a wave of pain washed over him. Bradley was the son of the man who had actually ¡®owned¡¯ Lucent before he gained his intelligence and powers. It was Bradley who cared for Lucent the most, who ensured he was fed and played with him. The two had been nearly inseparable for a couple years, living in an old, yet well-loved theater where Lucent had originally learned to speak by mimicking the old medieval-style language spoken in the plays the theater¡¯s owner (and Bradley¡¯s father) was so fond of.


    The boy had been about the same age that this Paintball must be, when tragedy had struck. Tragedy that resulted in the destruction of the theater, the deaths of many people including poor Bradley, and Lucent gaining his new powers and intelligence (and later, a new name, as he felt the old him had died back then with his best friend Bradley).


    ¡°Ohhh, oh, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Lion lamented. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have brought it up. I¡¯m so sorry. I just¨CI wasn¡¯t sure how you were¨CI wanted to¨C¡±


    ¡°Tis quite understandable¡­ dear miss,¡± Lucent quickly assured her. Nervous and skittish as Lion was, particularly about reaching out to people, he didn¡¯t want to make the tiny mouse feel bad. ¡°Little as I know this¡­ Paintball, I do believe he¡­ is a fine and upstanding young¡­ man whom my Bradley would¡­ have gotten along quite well with. He¡¯s a strong, smart¡­ creative lad. Being seen as¡­ in any way responsible for that¡­ even as mere jest¡­ is a fine honor and one I¡­ look on with pride.¡±


    There was a brief pause, before Lion tentatively asked, ¡°You¡¯re sure you¡¯re okay with it?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Lucent confirmed. ¡°Lad¡¯s a true hero. And I hardly fault¡­ others their fun. My only concern is for¡­ the boy himself, and his feelings. But from all evidence¡­ he would find it as amusing as I.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you two should find a way to play into the joke,¡± came the mouse¡¯s quiet suggestion.


    ¡°Mayhaps we shall,¡± Lucent agreed, before going silent as a dark sedan approached the building. It turned down the nearby alley, and he shifted his vision to the statue he had parked on the fire escape there to watch as men in masks began to step out of the car once it had come to a stop.


    ¡°Ah, pardon me, milady,¡± he informed his conversation partner while pushing himself off the lamppost, taking to the air on silent wings.


    ¡°Duty calls.¡±

 New Deals 13-02

    Well this night was suddenly potentially a lot worse. And why exactly did that surprise me anymore, after everything that had happened? How many times was I going to think my night out in the city was just about over without anything going too wrong, only to be blindsided?


    Right, what did I know? At least Cavalcade wasn¡¯t technically a villain all on her own. She was Sell-Touched. In other words, she worked for whoever was paying her. That could be good guys or bad guys. The last one I¡¯d known she was working for was Deicide, who I still owed a favor to. But Cavalcade had said that her new employer wanted to talk to me. That wouldn¡¯t be Deicide.


    ¡°Man,¡± the woman herself drawled with obvious amusement, ¡°I wish I could see the look on your face right now, kid. I¡¯ve been sitting over there on that building for the past twenty minutes watching your whole¡­ thing here.¡± She gestured vaguely. ¡°Gotta say, that didn¡¯t go the way I expected it to. Makes you kinda intriguing, you know? Like, if I go find those kids you let go, would they have anything interesting to say about you?¡± From the tone of her voice, she wasn¡¯t serious, just testing my reaction to all that. She was teasing me, pushing to see what I would do.


    Somehow, I found my voice. ¡°Well, you know, I was just super-busy and couldn¡¯t take the time to turn them in. And hey, speaking of which, I hope this mysterious new employer of yours takes rain checks, cuz I really shouldn¡¯t be stacking more onto my plate. So much to do, so little time.¡±


    There was a low chuckle of what sounded like genuine amusement. ¡°They¡¯re not really the type to wait patiently for someone like you to fit them onto your dance card, sorry. Let¡¯s go ahead and squeeze you in right now.¡± There was a brief pause before she added pointedly, ¡°While this is all still nice and casual.¡± The implied threat behind her words was crystal clear. This wasn¡¯t a choice. She wanted me to go with her, or this would turn into a fight as she forced the point.


    Could I outrun her? I wasn¡¯t sure. Her power allowed her to make rapidfire, short-term duplicates of herself. They only lasted a brief couple seconds, but she made them incredibly quickly, and used that to simulate superspeed by making hundreds or even thousands of duplicates really fast, each one slightly ahead of the other. Plus, she could choose to make one her real self, dismissing the previous body to disappear like the others. That allowed her to travel through the city while leaving a rapidly fading ¡®train¡¯ of duplicates behind her, simply always making the body at the head of the ¡®train¡¯ her real self. And the fact that the duplicates lasted a couple seconds allowed her to pull off tricks like going straight up the side of a building by having the duplicate behind give the one ahead a push before they vanished. So getting off the ground to the rooftops wasn¡¯t a solution for getting away from her.


    Plus, I couldn¡¯t just use yellow paint to slow her down, because I was pretty sure it would only apply to the single duplicate I hit with it. And I couldn¡¯t just keep hitting every single duplicate who showed up or something. As it turned out, her specific method of speed made my method of slowing her completely useless. Which was just fantastic, really.


    Right, so running away was probably out of the question. What about fighting her? Again, huge problem. Because I wouldn¡¯t just be fighting her, I¡¯d be fighting every duplicate she could summon in a short time span. I¡¯d seen Cavalcade fight people before. She made dozens of duplicates really quickly, surrounded the target, and hit them from every side. Her clones lasted just long enough to throw a punch or two, then vanished. And she could choose to make any of them her real body. So even fighting back was hard. The best way to pull it off was with area-effect attacks that could hit every version of her at the same time or in quick succession. I could maybe pull something like that off with a wide spray of the right paint, but did I have anything that would actually knock her out or whatever before she just made more duplicates who weren¡¯t painted? I didn¡¯t think so.


    Yeah, this whole situation was really not conducive to anything I was ready to do. Fighting her was liable to end with me just exhausting myself without accomplishing anything. And I probably couldn¡¯t escape by running. Again, at best I would wear myself out and she¡¯d be just fine.


    Fighting and running were both bad ideas. But that wasn¡¯t the real question. The real question was whether those two options were worse than the third one. Which was to actually go with her. My options were fighting, running, or going to see this employer of hers. So which one of those was the least bad? Because if her employer was, say, Pencil, I¡¯d definitely take my chances with fighting or running. But on the other hand, everything I knew about the woman (particularly the fact that she did occasionally work with Star-Touched) said that she wouldn¡¯t play nice with the Scions. I was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t Pencil and his ilk. Unfortunately, there were still plenty of bad options.


    ¡°Hey, kid,¡± Cavalcade interrupted my racing thoughts (that whole sequence had only taken a few seconds in my head, but still), ¡°fun as it is to watch the smoke shooting out of your head from how hard you¡¯re thinking about this, let me make it a little easier for you. My employer is Glitch, and she said to tell you that it¡¯s worth your time to talk to her.¡±


    Glitch. Leader of Braintrust. Her whole thing was about improving technology or temporarily breaking it. She could take other Tech-Touched designs and automatically understand how they could be improved, and she could also focus on any given piece of technology and force it to either not work at all temporarily, or instill random glitches (hence the name). She was also obsessed with recruiting every Tech-Touched she could get her hands on.


    Wren. This had to be about Wren. She knew I¡¯d worked with the girl and now she wanted to talk to me about something that, in her words, would be worth my time. Fabulist had already raised questions about where I was getting my tech from, back when I saved that Peyton girl. My guess was that they¡¯d worked out more about the situation, maybe from talking to some of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s people, and now Glitch wanted to extend an offer to Wren, through me, to join her little gang. And I was equally confident that my saying no right now wouldn¡¯t be the end of it. She might just end up trying to go straight at Wren by that point. And as much as the girl was working to keep herself and Fred safe, I wasn¡¯t going to throw her into the deep end like that.


    So, there wasn¡¯t much choice about any of this. I had to at least attempt to talk to Glitch and get her to understand that Wren working for her just wasn¡¯t worth the effort it would take. Which was bound to be fun, because I was super-sure she¡¯d be totally reasonable about the whole thing.


    With a sigh, I finally nodded. ¡°Right, fine. I guess I¡¯ll go with you. But can we do it without the cuffs this time? I¡¯m just really not in the mood for that kind of thing right now.¡±


    ¡°Now why does it sound like there¡¯s a really interesting story behind that comment? One that I¡¯d love to hear more of.¡± With those curious words, the woman stared at me. I could see her red-tinted eyes through the goggles, and wondered if she saw the whole world like that. It felt like that would make things more difficult. But then, given how much money she brought in for her services, the goggles were almost certainly Tech-Touched stuff.


    When I didn¡¯t respond to her probing question, Cavalcade finally shrugged. ¡°Well, maybe I¡¯ll hear it later. Right now, I¡¯m being paid by the task, not by the hour. So let¡¯s get you over to have this little discussion.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± I blinked, suddenly remembering that I had another super power I hadn¡¯t considered through all that. ¡°She¡¯s paying you to have me over there for a discussion, right? That¡¯s it?¡±


    There was a brief pause as the woman regarded me with renewed curiosity. When she answered, her voice was slow and thoughtful. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. It¡¯s not some trick to shoot you in the back of the head in private or something. Mercenary¡¯s honor, for what that¡¯s worth. Probably not much, but hey. What¡¯ve you got to lose? Okay, better question, what choice do you have?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Thinking quickly, I came to a decision. ¡°I¡¯ll go with you. I¡¯ll help you fulfill your task so you can get paid. But then I want to hire you.¡±


    It was Cavalcade¡¯s turn to sound surprised, her gaze snapping to me. ¡°You want to hire me?¡±


    I nodded once. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll hire you to make sure I get out of there again in one piece. Your job right now is to get me there. So get me there and get paid. Then get me out again and get paid again. I don¡¯t know how much you charge, but I¡¯ll give you five hundred dollars to get me out.¡±


    There was a brief pause, before the woman chuckled. But she was clearly uncertain. ¡°One, five hundred bucks isn¡¯t much for my profession. Two, I¡¯m just supposed to believe you¡¯ve got that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a fair amount for doing nothing except making sure I walk out of there in one piece,¡± I pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s like five minutes of your time. And I¡¯m good for the money. After all, it¡¯s not like you¡¯ll just let me walk away from you without paying up. If I could just take off, I wouldn¡¯t be here right now.¡± After hesitating while my mind raced, I quickly added, ¡°Besides, if you work with me now, there¡¯ll be more where that comes from, because I¡¯ll know I can trust you to take the money.¡± Belatedly, I shrugged. ¡°Plus, if you¡¯re telling the truth about how Glitch just wants to talk to me and that she¡¯ll make it worth my time, you shouldn¡¯t have any reason to object to being given five hundred dollars just to escort me back out again. Say it¡¯s five minutes of work. That¡¯s a hundred dollars a minute.¡±


    Of course, I could have offered a lot more than that. Especially if I added the point of letting me collect money and give it to her later. Even then, I still had twice that amount on me, since I¡¯d taken to keeping a little bit of cash on hand. But I felt like five hundred was safer to start with. I didn¡¯t want the woman (or anyone else) to know just how well off I was. Besides, if she refused the initial offer, I needed something to raise it to.


    The Sell-Touched seemed to consider that argument for a few seconds, regarding me. ¡°Five hundred bucks, huh, kid?¡± Her squint hardened as she seemed to practically be staring through my soul. Finally, she straightened and gave a short nod. ¡°Fine. Five hundred bucks and I¡¯ll take you out of there. But you show it to me first. Right here, right now. Show me you¡¯ve got it.¡± There was a mixture of doubt and genuine curiosity in her voice. She wanted to know if I was good for it before she took the risk of potentially annoying a steady employer. Which I supposed was fair.


    So, I turned away from her, carefully unzipping my pocket while the woman watched silently. Collecting the five one hundred dollar bills, I turned back, holding them up for her to see. ¡°Five. It¡¯s supposed to be for paying my Tech-Touched. But they¡¯ll get over it.¡± There, maybe a slight answer as to why I had that kind of money on me would help stop her from thinking too hard about it.


    Another brief moment of consideration passed, before Cavalade gestured. ¡°Right then. Put it away and let¡¯s get out of here. You¡¯ve got a deal. I¡¯ll take you in, let you have your talk with Glitch, then walk you back out again. Ah, but one caveat.¡± She added the last bit while looking at me pointedly. ¡°No starting a fight in there. If you get attacked, you can defend yourself. I¡¯ll help. But you don¡¯t start anything. And you don¡¯t be insulting. You treat them respectfully as long as they treat you respectfully. You try to start some fight thinking I¡¯ve got your back and you¡¯re gonna be disappointed.¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± I agreed a bit distractedly, my mind racing about everything that was about to happen. ¡°I¡¯ll defend myself if they pull anything, but I won¡¯t start a fight. I¡¯ll listen to what she has to say, respond as¡­ politely as reasonably expected, and leave with you.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Cavalcade gestured toward a sedan that was parked nearby. ¡°Let¡¯s take a little ride then.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°It¡¯s not as fast as I can be on my own, but a car stands out less to certain busybody Touched who have too much time on their hands.¡± Pausing, she added, ¡°And that goes for Star or Fell. People don¡¯t know how to mind their own business in general.¡±


    Right, she worked both sides of the line, so Cavalcade would obviously be more aware of how both the ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯ guys could be similar. For a moment, I thought of my family and how they played both sides, just in a different way. But then, was it so different? She did it for money, and they did it for money and power. Just on a whole different scale than her.


    There were definite similarities. But I shoved those thoughts down before moving to get in the car she had indicated. A part of me wondered not only if I was going to regret this, but how much and how soon. Getting in this car to go see one of the city¡¯s biggest Fell-Touched villains felt like a bad idea. But I didn¡¯t have much choice if I didn¡¯t want this whole thing to escalate even more.


    Besides, I¡¯d rather the Braintrust people try to talk to Wren through me rather than going straight at her. I was going to try to shield that kid from as much of this as I could for as long as possible. At least until she had enough defenses up to really protect herself and Fred.


    Cavalcade joined me in the car, starting it up before pulling away. ¡°You like Toni Kalla?¡± she asked while turning the radio on to fill the air with pounding rock music. ¡°If not, plug your ears. Or go ahead and punch yourself in the face, cuz Toni¡¯s the best Touched-Singer in the world.¡±


    Yeah, some Touched didn¡¯t go for hero, villain, or mercenary. They used their powers for normal, everyday activities. Toni Kalla, for example, was a singer who could literally weave what amounted to holographic illusions using her voice. She used that to create a show that went along with the music. There were other aspects to her power, but mostly it was the hologram thing.


    Murmuring something noncommittal, I looked out the window. It probably wouldn¡¯t do my secret identity much good for me to mention that I¡¯d met Toni multiple times, had dinner with her both at restaurants and at our house, and that she¡¯d already sent me a copy of the album that wouldn¡¯t be out for another couple months. Maybe I was just crazy, but that felt like it might give a few too many hints about who I was.


    So, instead of focusing on that, I changed the subject. ¡°You gonna try to blindfold me or something? Or, you know, make me duck down so I don¡¯t see where we¡¯re going?¡±


    The answer was a snort. ¡°No,¡± she replied flatly. ¡°They¡¯re not having me take you anywhere near their base anyway, kid. We¡¯re just going to a neutral meeting place. You wanna go scour it with a fine-toothed comb looking for clues and Scooby Snacks later, knock yourself out.¡±


    Despite how casual she was being about the whole thing, I couldn¡¯t exactly relax through the drive. A voice in the back of my head kept screaming about how stupid this was and that I should fight tooth and nail, make her drag my unconscious body to this meeting if she could manage it. I pushed that voice deep down, but could still hear it yelling at me.


    To distract myself from the voice, I looked to my¡­ sort-of captor(?) and asked, ¡°How do you work with both good guys and bad guys?¡±


    ¡°Oh, kid, don¡¯t start on moralizing,¡± came the groaned response. ¡°We all have to make a living, and I have my own lines I don¡¯t cross. Besides, you¡¯d be surprised how many supposed good guys aren¡¯t that good.¡±


    Choosing not to debate that last point about how surprised I would or wouldn¡¯t be, I instead corrected, ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant. I mean how do you get the good guys to let you work with them after you worked with villains like¡­ the week before?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± There was a brief pause before Cavalcade answered. ¡°Because I¡¯m useful. I have a really good power, and that gives me some leeway. Long story short, I have what you might call a special deal with the city. If they catch me doing bad things and working with villains, they get to take me in. But if they extend a contract, if they hire me to do a job, them or any of the other goodie teams, I get a free pass while that contract is going on. It¡¯s written into every contract. My lawyer draws them up. Any time one of the Star-Touched teams wants my help, they have to sign one of those contracts. Means they can¡¯t come after me for anything they think I did in the past for the duration of whatever they¡¯re hiring me for.¡±


    ¡°And they just¡­ let you do that?¡± I managed, staring at her.


    ¡°Like I said,¡± she replied carelessly, ¡°I¡¯m really useful. Most Sell-Touched like me, the ones who work both sides, have something like that. But even then, bad guys tend to pay more.¡± She turned, winking at me through the goggles. ¡°They have more disposable income and less whiny qualms about who they work with.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s surprising,¡± I muttered under my breath before catching myself. Shaking my head, I looked back to her. ¡°Not to get all moralizing or anything, but the whole¡­ switching sides all the time doesn¡¯t bother you?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± came the flat answer. ¡°Cuz I just plug my ears with all the money I make, and it makes it really hard to hear that annoying little voice like you¡¯ve got in the back of your head telling you to be some paragon of virtue or whatever bullshit. People are selfish. They look out for themselves and the ones they care about. I¡¯m just making a living.


    ¡°And speaking of making a living¡­¡± The car stopped. ¡°Let¡¯s go deal with this meeting and then get out of here.


    ¡°Cuz I want that five hundred bucks.¡±

 New Deals 13-03

    The building that Cavalcade had brought me to was an old pizza restaurant that had been closed for awhile. The neon sign with the place¡¯s name was still above the door, but several of the letters were missing, and there were boards over the windows. It looked like there should¡¯ve been boards over the door itself too, but they had been pulled off and moved to the side. The interior lights were on, so there was at least still power in the place, and I could hear music.


    Glancing to my escort, I waited until she pointed to the door. Then I sighed and walked that way, opening it up before stepping through with the mercenary right behind me. Here went nothing.


    Most of the tables that had been in the dining area of the pizza place were gone. What remained was a single card table that had obviously been brought in just for this, along with a couple metal folding chairs, all of which was arranged in the middle of the room. A single figure sat casually at the chair facing the door where we were coming in, and a couple more were at the far end of the room behind the counter, half-hidden by the enormous pizza ovens.


    The two Touched at the back of the room were instantly recognizable. One was Fabulist, the guy in gleaming silver armor that displayed a bunch of various television and movie scenes in a collage across it. The guy next to him was shorter and wore what amounted to random robot pieces that looked like they were scavenged from an ancient black and white movie. That was the unfortunately named Rotwang, the guy who built robots and stuff like that. Apparently he¡¯d taken his name from some old scientist in a movie from the 1920¡¯s. If you asked me, he should¡¯ve given up on the reference and kept looking for a better name than Rotwang.


    My eyes focused on the woman at the table then. Glitch, of course. Her costume consisted of burgundy cargo pants with dozens of pouches and belts full of bits of equipment (in addition to what was in all those pockets), with a black long-sleeved turtleneck shirt. The shirt had visible scales, making it look like very fine armor. She also wore a white leather jacket. At least, it looked like a leather jacket. But I knew from the news that the ¡®jacket¡¯ could expand in an instant to become a full suit of armor, strong enough to take an ongoing barrage of gunfire or a full strength lightning blast from Cu¨¦lebre without any apparent ill-effect. And those pockets and pouches of hers were filled with dozens of Tech-Touched toys to totally terrorize towns.


    In any case, beyond the pants, armored shirt, and transforming jacket, the Braintrust leader also wore a metal choker around her neck, but no mask at all. Her face was perfectly visible. I wasn¡¯t fooled by that, however. People had been in the past, when she first showed up without anything apparently covering her face. But that was deceptive, because the choker around her neck was a special shapeshifting toy. It allowed Glitch to make her face look like anything she wanted it to. She could change a lot about her appearance with the collar. The only limits seemed to be that it could only affect what her face and hair looked like. Or her skin color in general, I supposed. It couldn¡¯t change her build, height, or anything else about her actual body. Sometimes she showed up looking like a pale blue-eyed blonde, other times she had darker hair with green eyes, or could even appear to be a black woman. Right now, she looked Asian. But who the hell knew what her real appearance was. She fucked with people constantly by looking slightly different every time she appeared. Hell, until people had found out that her choker allowed her to change her appearance, there had been a rush to identify her from the pictures. An innocent woman had almost been put in prison for looking almost identical to her. But then Glitch herself had shown up outside the courthouse, showed what her choker could do, and actually apologized to the woman who had been mistaken for her.


    Yeah, that had been a huge thing. So now nobody could trust any description for Glitch. Or any of her people, for that matter. There were rumors that Braintrust was working on mass producing those disguise chokers and equipping all their rank and file Prev gang members with them. Which would be just fucking fantastic, really.


    ¡°It¡¯s Paintball, right?¡± Glitch was saying, already gesturing toward the folding chair across from her. ¡°Take a load off, kid. You want something to drink? We brought soda, coffee of the hot and iced variety, water¡­ sorry, no pizza. Seems our hosts took all the ingredients with them when they left this place. But we could order out if you like. Might be worth it just to see another pizza joint deliver to this place¨Cwait, there¡¯s another one of these places within delivery distance, right? Can you imagine if they had to drop off a pizza here? Come on, you wanna see that?¡±


    Opening and shutting my mouth, I quickly shook myself and moved to take the offered seat. A part of me felt like I should keep standing, but being rude right now felt like a bad idea. Yeah, these guys were Fell-Touched, but they were being casual enough about all this (aside from paying a mercenary to bring me to them) that escalating things straight off was the wrong way to go. Besides, Cavalcade had made it clear that she would only help me get out if I didn¡¯t start shit and played nice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get a burger later,¡± I finally managed to reply while starting to sit. Partway through, however, I stopped. Hovering without actually sitting, I rose once more, watching the woman in front of me while I picked up the chair and turned it over to look at the bottom real quick. I¡¯d seen enough movies. The last thing I wanted was to sit down on a seat that had some kind of pressure sensitive bomb on it or something and end up trapped there.


    Right, nothing visible. Which, given the gang I was dealing with, didn¡¯t actually prove anything. But what else could I do. Shrugging, I put the chair back down and sat.


    Glitch had watched through all of that, finally chuckling once I was down. ¡°You see, boys?¡± she called to Fabulist and Rotwang. ¡°I told you our boy here was a smart one. Wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve survived through half the shit he¡¯s already been thrown into if he wasn¡¯t smart.¡± Her voice adopted a conspiratorial tone. ¡°Wang over there wanted to play this rougher. It¡¯s why he¡¯s not the negotiator. Or the leader.¡±


    Rotwang¡¯s only apparent response to that was to fold his arms tightly across his chest. The weird bulky, square 50¡¯s alien robot head that functioned as his helmet had two little glowing rounded antennae sticking out either side of it that turned colors. Both went from being white to red, which I was going to guess meant he was annoyed. But he stayed silent.


    ¡°You can relax, kid,¡± Glitch informed me. ¡°We¡¯re not here to fight, or play hardball. We just wanted to have a little chat. Sorry, I just wanted to have a chat. Wang over there thinks we should say something about making your friend work for us or else yada yada bad things threats, you know how it is.¡±


    ¡°Friend?¡± I made myself echo, watching her reaction.


    Her reaction, as it turned out, was to laugh. Her head shook as she chuckled. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s not treat each other like idiots, Paintball. Fabulist already told you that we have ways of detecting T-Tech. Obviously, you¡¯re not the one making it. And it¡¯s no one we know about. The style¡¯s different. You¡¯ve got a Tech-Touched working with you. One that has annoyed Cu¨¦lebre a great deal, from what I hear. And you are the only person they seem to be working with. What are we talking about here, is this a sibling? A brother maybe? Or a sister. Ah, maybe a younger sister, one you feel like you have to protect. That would explain why you¡¯re the only Touched they¡¯re working with.¡±


    I didn¡¯t react at all at first. Honestly, let Glitch go off on her wrong assumptions. The more she thought that Wren and I were siblings, the less chance she had of actually figuring out who either of us were. I wasn¡¯t going to dissuade any of that.


    Instead, I simply replied, ¡°If you know I want to protect them, you¡¯ll forgive me for not talking very much about them. Especially not with people whose entire thing revolves around recruiting Tech-Touched into their gang. And for the record, have you thought about expanding out into allowing other types of Touched? Cuz you¡¯re really pigeonholing yourself with that one.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± came the casual response as the ¡®Asian¡¯ woman eyed me, ¡°were you interested? Because if that¡¯s what it takes to sign up your friend, maybe we can find something for you.¡±


    Yeah, I supposed I deserved that one. Grimacing behind the helmet, I shook my head. ¡°Sorry, I prefer not being a wanted criminal. Makes it easier to get around town without all the cops chasing me.¡±


    ¡°Well, from what I hear,¡± Glitch reminded me, ¡°you already have enough people who want your hide as it is. Cu¨¦lebre is very unhappy with you. Pretty sure Janus is too. And there¡¯s even rumors that you¡¯ve managed to annoy Pencil himself. You have been a busy little bee. And you know how busy little bees survive and thrive? By being part of a hive. You could use some friends to help you pull through whenever one of those enemies you¡¯re racking up makes a move.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I agreed quickly and easily. ¡°You¡¯re right, having friends is a good thing. You and I just disagree a little bit on who my friends are.¡± Pausing, I decided that might be a little too rude, and added, ¡°But if I was into your side of things, I could probably do worse than signing up.¡± There, that was going to have to be good enough to fit Cavalcade¡¯s request that I play nice. Which, judging from the very slight snort I heard from her direction, it was.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess we do disagree a bit on that.¡± If Glitch was annoyed by my words, she didn¡¯t show it. Instead, she remarked, ¡°Since it¡¯s been brought up, I guess I don¡¯t have to ask if you know how our little Braintrust works. The more Techs we¡¯ve got, the better off we are. And let me tell you something, kid, from everything I¡¯ve heard, this new Tech of yours is a good one. One we¡¯d really like to have around.¡± She paused, then added a bit more pointedly, ¡°One I¡¯d really like to have around.¡±


    I¡¯d known this was where this whole thing was going from the moment Cavalcade had made it clear who wanted to talk to me. Hell, I¡¯d basically known it was coming from back when Fabulist told me they could detect the Touched-Tech I was using. I¡¯d just hoped it would come later, when I didn¡¯t have so many other things to deal with. But that was obviously a stupid hope.


    Exhaling, I looked to the woman and chose my words carefully. ¡°My Tech isn¡¯t interested in your organization. Sorry, but they¡¯re not. And you should know that it¡¯s a bad idea to try to force Techs to work for you when they don¡¯t want to. I mean, you can only use your power to stop them from retaliating against you so much. And this Tech has friends. Friends like me, and others, who won¡¯t just let you abduct them. Saying this as¡­ respectfully as possible, going after my Tech is not worth the hassle it would be for you. It would be a huge fight, one involving more people than I think you realize. Yes, they¡¯re really helpful. But I promise, they are not worth what you¡¯d be pulling onto your head by forcing this whole thing. Find someone else.¡±


    There was a long pause as the Braintrust leader watched me. It was really different to be able to see the whole, unmasked face of one of these Fell-Touched people. I was used to staring into a mask, trying to judge their reactions from body language. But in this case, there was nothing covering the face I was looking at. And yet, in some ways it was even harder to guess her thoughts. Her expression was completely unreadable, flat and emotionless through those few seconds. I didn¡¯t know how much of that was the shapeshifting choker helping her hide any reaction and how much was her natural poker face. But either way, I couldn¡¯t read her.


    Finally, Glitch gave a very short nod. ¡°That¡¯s about what I figured.¡± She chuckled slightly as I stared at her. ¡°Don¡¯t be so surprised, kid. I run a whole gang full of Techs. You think I don¡¯t know how dangerous they can be if you piss them off? Yeah, we play hardball on recruitment. But there¡¯s a fine line between playing hardball and being stupid. Braintrust works because we put our heads together and work to make the best toys we can possibly make. If we have a rotten egg in there, it¡¯ll spoil everything. I¡¯m not about to kidnap your friend, chain them to a workbench, and start cracking the whip. That¡¯s a good way to get shitty results at best. And probably explosive ones. And it affects everyone else¡¯s work. We don¡¯t have the vast majority of Tech-Touched in the city because I¡¯m a slave driver, Paintball. We have them for two reasons. First, because Techs like working with other Techs. It helps to collaborate. Not just in the normal way, but literally. There¡¯s been studies that show two Techs working together produce better results than working alone. Their own gifts get stronger. Make it a whole group, and well¡­ yeah.


    ¡°Anyway, the second reason we have the most Techs is because I pay my people very, very well. I provide resources, workshops, privacy, and other Techs to collaborate with, other people who understand them. You don¡¯t win this kind of game with sticks, you win it with carrots. Between that and my own gift to improve what they make¡­ it¡¯s a good system. And don¡¯t take this the wrong way or anything, but I¡¯m not about to mess up a good system by chaining up an unwilling Tech and trying to force them to play nice. Bad egg, you see? I don¡¯t care how good they are, it¡¯s not worth that kind of pain.¡±


    Blinking a couple times behind my helmet, I hesitated before offering her a shrug. ¡°Oh. Well, in that case, good luck on all your¨Cwait I can¡¯t say that, I¡¯m one of the people who¡¯s supposed to stop you from all those criminal things. Um. See you later, I guess? Glad this went so well.¡±


    There was a soft chuckle from the seemingly Asian woman, before she shook her head. ¡°It has been going well, yes. But we¡¯re not quite done yet.¡± She held a hand up placatingly. ¡°Almost. We¡¯re almost done. But there¡¯s still something important about your friend we need to discuss. As I said, I¡¯m not about to force them to work for me. That¡¯s not how we do things. But see, there¡¯s another part to all this. Yeah, we won¡¯t make your friend work for us. But if they¡¯re a Tech-Touched operating in the city, they still have to pay the tax.¡±


    I squinted at the woman for a moment before remembering that she couldn¡¯t see that expression. ¡°A tax,¡± I echoed almost flatly, allowing a hint of disbelief to enter my voice.


    Grinning at me, Glitch confirmed, ¡°Yeah, a tax. See, Braintrust is the official Tech-Touched organization. We¡­ let¡¯s just say we pay our dues. And part of that involves collecting taxes from people who don¡¯t work for us. Put simply, if you¡¯re not part of the organization, you don¡¯t get the tax credit.¡±


    I watched her for a moment, glanced to Fabulist and Rotwang briefly, then turned my attention back to their leader. ¡°You¡¯re saying that you¡¯re not going to force my friend to work for you, but in exchange for operating in the city, you want them to give you money.¡±


    She winked, leaning back in the chair a bit. ¡°That¡¯s right. Your friend pays a monthly fee to operate in the city. In exchange, we leave them alone. We don¡¯t try to recruit them, we don¡¯t try to drive them out of the city, we don¡¯t cause problems for them in general. Because let me be clear, while it is not worth the effort to chain an unwilling Tech to a workbench, it very much is worth it to drive them out of the city if they don¡¯t cooperate with the system.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re basically a protection racket,¡± I pointed out. ¡°You¡¯re extorting Tech-Touched who don¡¯t work for you. That¡¯s the real reason why there¡¯s so few independents in Detroit. Because they can¡¯t afford your taxes and it¡¯s easier to either agree to work for you, or leave to go somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°What can I say?¡± Glitch shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t like competition. But I¡¯ll put up with it in exchange for cash. You tell your friend they¡¯ve got two weeks to decide if they want to play ball or move to a new city. It¡¯s totally up to them. Two weeks. If they agree, we can talk about the specifics. Oh, and they can pay either in cash or donations of tech. Or consultation time.¡±


    ¡°So if they don¡¯t have cash for you, they can give you pieces of their technology that they made, or agree to ¡®consult¡¯ on your own projects?¡± I managed, thinking about how Wren would react to all that.


    ¡°Or leave the city, yup. That¡¯s plenty of options.¡± With that, Glitch gave a sharp wave of her hand. ¡°Two weeks from today. I¡¯ll send someone to get an answer from you. And hey, looking forward to the first time we get to actually have a little scuffle, kid. You seem fun.¡±


    She stood, turning to walk toward her two minions then. Even as she left, Cavalcade spoke up. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. I wanna get to the La Casa casino before all the good tables are gone. Actually, you wanna go too? Cuz I¡¯m about to have five hundred bucks burning a hole in my pocket, and I wouldn¡¯t mind making some more off you.¡±


    Shaking my head while muttering that I¡¯d give her the money once we were out of there, I stood and headed past my mercenary escort to go out the same door I¡¯d come in. In the parking lot, I brought my phone to my hand. Because there was someone I needed to talk to about all this. Pack. She was friends with Wren too. If anyone would understand the complication of this whole Braintrust situation, it was her. She knew Wren, she knew about Braintrust, she knew (at least some) about the Ministry. She was basically the best person possible to bounce this off of.


    Quickly, I typed a message, asking where she was and that I needed to talk to her about Wren, adding a joke about how Cavalcade had invited me to the casino if she wanted to meet there. I figured that would get her attention.


    I had no real intention of going to the casino with Cavalcade, of course. I had way too much to think about and deal with. Not to mention the fact that I didn¡¯t want to make a point of hanging around a Fell-Touched place like that, even if it was supposed to be neutral ground. The rules, as I understood them, were that any Fell-Touched or Sell-Touched who weren¡¯t actively at war with La Casa were welcome, as well as any Star-Touched who were independent/not connected to an actual official government team. If you didn¡¯t start shit, you could be there and play.


    I had other things to focus on besides gambling. Actually, come to think of it, I was doing an awful lot of gambling lately. It just all had to do with risking my parents finding out what I knew or who I was, or one of the other Touched finding out I was a girl, or any of my other issues rather than money. Or even getting hurt. It was still a risk, still gambling every time I went out like this.


    And yet, barely a few seconds after I¡¯d sent the message to Pack, my phone buzzed. It was a message from her, reading: ¡®Come 2 casino. Have 2 show u. Huge¡¯


    Had to show me? Had to show me what? Frowning, I looked up to Cavalcade. ¡°Uhh, well, I guess I¡¯ll take you up on that offer after all.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go see this casino.¡±

 New Deals 13-04

    When I abruptly told the Sell-Touched that I would go with her after all, she did a quick doubletake. Obviously, she hadn¡¯t been expecting that. For a second, the woman just looked in my direction, squinting through the goggles. ¡°That right?¡± she finally settled on, before adding, ¡°Just a quick little tip kid, if you think you can use this whole thing as a way to make a name for yourself by busting a bunch of people just having fun at this casino, I don¡¯t know what kind of¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s neutral ground, I know,¡± I quickly assured her. ¡°Starting shit at the casino is a good way of pissing off everyone in the city who isn¡¯t government-aligned. And even some of them. When you¡¯re at the casino, you play nice with everyone else that¡¯s there, or you become a target.¡± That much had been made clear in the documentary about Detroit Touched that I¡¯d watched awhile back. They didn¡¯t actually get to go to the place (or any other couple designated neutral points), but there¡¯d been enough details from interviews and the like to make that much clear.


    After another brief moment of watching me, clearly trying to read exactly what I intended, Cavalcade gave a short nod. ¡°Okay, kid. Let¡¯s go to the casino. I¡¯ll show you how independent Star-Touched like you are supposed to get there. But first¡­¡± She trailed off meaningfully.


    ¡°Money, right.¡± Giving a quick nod, I reached into my pocket, producing the five one hundred dollar bills that I¡¯d already set aside before holding them out for her. ¡°We¡¯re good now, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Sure, kid, we¡¯re good.¡± That answer came after Cavalcade had taken the money, examined it carefully as though to check for counterfeits or something, then tucked the five bills away. ¡°We¡¯re totally good. Now, let¡¯s get to the games so I can be even better than good.¡±


    Something told me Cavalcade and Pack could have a whole conversation about how much they liked getting paid, or just money in general. Maybe between the two of them they could eventually get a big pool full of cash and swim in it. Actually, Cavalcade was still a bit of a mystery, but I really wouldn¡¯t put it past Pack to do exactly that if she had the chance.


    In any case, the Sell-Touched led me back to her car, already explaining. ¡°The way people like you get to the casino is a little different from people like me, or Fells. Don¡¯t think of it as people not trusting you, but uhhh¡­ actually yeah, yeah, think of it as people not trusting you. You¡¯re a fine, upstanding citizen, a good guy. So you don¡¯t get to know exactly where the casino is.¡±


    As we drove, she explained that there was a building for Star-Touched like me to go to, a place nowhere near the actual casino. There would be a guard whom I would tell about wanting to visit the casino. He¡¯d do whatever he needed to in order to make sure I was on the up-and-up, then send me in to the next step.


    Cavalcade explained everything I needed to do, before pulling to a stop in front of an old three story office building across the street from a car dealership. ¡°Here we go, kid. I don¡¯t feel like going through all the rigamarole, so you have fun. Maybe I¡¯ll see you in there. But just¨Cone more time, don¡¯t start shit just because you see a bad guy, okay? Save it for the streets.¡±


    Giving her a thumbs up, I stepped out of the car and walked toward the building. It had occurred to me that I could insist that Pack meet me elsewhere to avoid going in a place like this. But she¡¯d seemed insistent that she had to show me something. Plus, I was kind of curious to see how this casino thing worked. Hell, I had a suspicion it might actually be connected to my parents after all. Neutral ground that was somehow enforced for everyone? That sounded a lot like Ministry-related stuff to me.


    So, taking a deep breath as I approached the doors, I focused on the man who was standing there. He looked like any ordinary guard, wearing a pair of brown pants and a white, ill-fitting shirt with a random security company name across the sewn-on badge. He was leaning against the doorway, straightening when I walked toward him. ¡°Hey, there, Paintball!¡± His voice was cheerful, and when I got closer, I could see the smile stretched across his face. He was kind of a heavy-looking guy, with a bright, flushed face and lines that made it clear smiling was his default expression. He kind of looked like a young, brown-haired Santa Claus, to be honest. Only maybe a little more cheerful. He definitely did not look like a hardcore guard protecting a possible entrance to a place full of Fell-And-Sell-Touched, that was for sure. I was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t even wearing a weapon aside from the heavy maglight that hung from his belt.


    ¡°Um, hi.¡± I hesitated before raising a hand. Cavalcade had said this was the right place. Plus, come to think of it, they obviously wouldn¡¯t want someone who looked like a paramilitary badass standing out in the open. So, I pushed on with the phrase the woman had given me. ¡°I¡¯d like to play a ginny run up to the royal flush.¡± Apparently the passphrase changed every once in awhile and you had to be in good standing to get the new one. But it was always something like that.


    ¡°Well!¡± The man in front of me smiled even more, letting out a loud chuckle that filled the air around me. It actually made me feel a little better about the whole situation, taking some of the uncertain tension out of me. I felt like everything was going to be okay. ¡°You¡¯re not trying to get in there to fight or arrest anyone, are you?¡± His tone was light and teasing, as if I couldn¡¯t possibly be doing anything like that. And in that moment, I knew I could trust him. He was a good guy, a friend. He was everything I¡¯d been looking for in a confidant.


    A confidant. That was it. Why hadn¡¯t I thought of it before? I could tell him everything I knew about the Ministry. I could tell him about my family, about the fact that I was really a girl, even about the whole situation with my memories, and about Pa¨C


    ¡°Paintball?¡± A familiar voice interrupted my rush of thoughts, making me jerk that way.


    She wore a mask, a simple white cloth mask secured to her turtleneck. But I knew the voice immediately. It was the voice of a person whose name had, in that very moment, been in my mind. Paige. It was Paige Banners, in the flesh, standing a bit behind me with her arms folded. The simple, blank white mask with eye holes in it couldn¡¯t disguise her voice. It was her, I knew for a fact. She was squinting curiously at me. ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡±


    Blinking at the masked Paige, a rush of thoughts came over me. First of all, what the fuck?! Not her, this guy. I had been about to spill every possible secret I had to him if he¡¯d asked. In that moment, I¡¯d thought he was my best friend, someone I could trust with my life. How¨Cwhat the fuck?


    Power. He had to be Touched. That was the only explanation. He was Psy-Touched. That was the one that meant their power affected other people¡¯s minds.


    No wonder he was guarding this door. Not only did he look completely non-threatening, he had a power that made people confide in him. God, what if he¡¯d asked something that made me spill something important?


    ¡°Tell.¡± Paige looked past me to the man in question, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. ¡°You weren¡¯t trying to get secrets out of my friend here, were you?¡±


    The man looked abashed, waving a hand. ¡°Shucks, Miss Kahn, I wasn¡¯t actually gonna make him spill anything important. I know the rules, I was just checking to see if he was here for anything bad, you know? Gotta do my job and all, and it¡¯s my job to make sure overzealous heroes and the like don¡¯t find their way into the casino. Keeps everyone safe and all. I know how to ask safe questions.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Paige (or Miss Kahn, according to the guard) didn¡¯t sound convinced, but also didn¡¯t push the issue. Instead, she looked at me. ¡°You sure you wanna go in there, Paintball? It¡¯s like the guy said, they don¡¯t allow any funny business, and if you break up the truce, well¡­ I¡¯d hate to see you turn into target numero uno for everyone in the city with a grudge against heroes.¡±


    For a second, I just stared at her. Seeing Paige like this was just¡­ weird. She was wearing a mask like it was second nature, was interacting with the La Casa guard as if she¡¯d done so dozens of times. And she was talking to me like a normal person, not as if she loathed my very existence.


    Had it really been like this before? Had Paige, the girl who had done everything she could to insult, belittle, and demean me for every day that I remembered her, actually been my friend once upon a time? Had we really once been so close that, upon being found surrounded by dead bodies, she pleaded with the authorities to find me? Did she really just not remember, like I didn¡¯t?


    There were so many questions I wanted to ask. But I couldn¡¯t. Especially not right then, in front of our onlooker. Instead, I snapped myself out of it just as my silence had dragged on almost too long, blurting, ¡°I¡¯ve just got somebody I need to talk to, no big deal. I¡¯m not going to cause trouble.¡±


    ¡°There, see, Tell?¡± Paige gestured to the guard. ¡°He¡¯s not about to cause trouble. He¡¯s with me anyway, I¡¯ll take him.¡± She gave me a sidelong look, her voice pointed, ¡°I¡¯m sure he won¡¯t make me look bad.¡±


    Oh boy, were there a lot of things I almost wanted to say to that. But I bit my tongue and gave a quick nod. ¡°No trouble here. Like I said, I just need to talk to someone¨Cerr, someone who will want to talk to me. This isn¡¯t like a confrontation or anything.¡±


    The guard, Tell, apparently, stepped out of the way while opening the door. ¡°In that case, go ahead, Paintball. And it¡¯s great to see you again, Miss Kahn. You both have a fun, safe time. And good luck at the games if you play any.¡±


    Paige walked past me, grabbing my sleeve on the way past. With a quick glance toward Tell, who had turned his attention back to the road, I followed her into the small lobby. The place looked empty. Paige didn¡¯t even glance at me on her way to the nearby elevator, where she hit the button to go up. The doors immediately opened, and she stepped through.


    Right, if Cavalcade had been on the level about this, the elevator was actually connected through Touched-Tech to another building entirely somewhere else in town. It would deliver us to the casino. this way people who weren¡¯t exactly trusted by La Casa could visit the place without actually knowing where it was physically located. There was also supposed to be jammers blocking any phone signal or other tracking devices. When you went to the casino, you had to go dark to the outside world.


    So yeah, here was hoping I didn¡¯t end up in some kind of trouble in there, or my parents didn¡¯t suddenly have a panic attack about not being able to reach me. Cuz I was about to be out of contact for awhile.


    With a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, letting the doors close behind me. My voice cracked just a little. ¡°So, come here often?¡±


    Instead of answering immediately, Paige reached out to hit the door stop button. Which was weird, because the elevator wasn¡¯t moving yet anyway. She held that button down, then hit four of the floor buttons in quick succession before looking to me. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ve got privacy now. Seriously, Paintball, I know you said you¡¯re not going in there to make trouble, and I believe you, but do you know what you¡¯re getting into?¡±


    Whelp, there was a lot I wanted to say to that too. There was a lot I wanted to say to Paige in general. A part of me wanted to just take off the mask and ask her what the fuck happened all those years ago, if she remembered us being friends, if she thought I betrayed her or something, why she singled me out to hate so much. I just¨Cdamn it, I wanted answers. Every time I thought I was about to get some answers when it came to Paige, I just ended up with more questions. So yeah, part of me wanted to just get the whole thing over with, expose who I was and what I knew about our apparently shared past, and just¡­ deal with it.


    But as with everything else, that was a genie that I wouldn¡¯t be able to put back in the bottle. The second Paige knew who I was, she¡¯d stop treating me like Paintball and start treating me like Cassidy. And ever since I remembered knowing her, treating me like Cassidy meant bad things. Treating me like Cassidy meant I couldn¡¯t trust her.


    I couldn¡¯t take that risk. I couldn¡¯t expose my identity and secrets like that. Not to her. Especially not before I knew more about her whole situation and why she had started acting this way. The danger of what would happen, of what Paige could do if she reacted poorly to the whole thing was too dangerous.


    So, I just kept things simple. ¡°I need to talk to one of the La Casa Touched. Nothing bad or anything, just¡­ need to tell them something I found out. We¡¯re sort of¡­ working on something. It¡¯s mutually beneficial.¡± Yeah, something I found out, like the fact that Braintrust had their eyes on Wren and wanted her to start paying taxes. The paying part wasn¡¯t even an issue, really. I¡¯d work on that myself if it came down to it. But Wren deserved to know what was going on, and that Braintrust wanted either money, donations of tech, or consultation in exchange for leaving her alone.


    If it was about me, I¡¯d tell them to fuck off and take my chances. But Wren was just a kid, and she deserved the chance to be left alone to do her work without dealing with someone whose entire schtick involved, in part, making Touched-Tech temporarily not work right. I couldn¡¯t be there to back her up all the time. Until¨Cunless there was a better answer, a better way of making Glitch and the rest of Braintrust back off, keeping them happy by playing along was the best thing I could think of.


    Paige was staring at me. ¡°Mutually beneficial,¡± she echoed flatly.


    Clearing my throat, I gestured. ¡°Uhh, yeah, anyway, what about you? You look pretty comfortable wearing that mask, walking into a place like this.¡±


    ¡°Most people wear masks in the casino,¡± Paige informed me, stressing the word to make it abundantly clear. ¡°Even the Prevs. You¡¯d be surprised what kind of important people show up there that you¡¯d never think would hang out in a place owned by supervillains.¡± I had a feeling she was smiling behind the cloth that covered everything but her eyes. ¡°No one can attack each other, forced neutrality, full privacy, everything you could want. They even have pretty good food and entertainment. And no one bothers enforcing any kind of minimum age requirement. Not like they¡¯re going to be raided by the cops, you know? Hell, a lot of the people in there are the cops. Dirty ones, anyway. Not that they¡¯ll admit that. Another one of the rules is you can¡¯t call people out on who they are if they¡¯re trying to keep it hidden, no matter how obvious it is.¡±


    ¡°You sure know an awful lot about all this stuff,¡± I pointed out gently. And oh boy was that the understatement of the century. What the hell was her deal? What was¨Cwhat was everything about Paige? Where had she come from, what happened to her memory, why was she connected to Anthony, who was her father, why did she hate me now, why had she been around those dead bodies, what was she doing?


    At the moment, what she was doing was offering a shrug while glancing away with a thoughtful, ¡°Point is, it¡¯s a good place to have secret meetings.¡±


    ¡°You have a lot of secret meetings?¡± I asked, trying not to sound too much like I wanted to violently shake her until she gave me real answers. It was a really close call.


    In response to the question, the other girl reached out to hold the door closed button again, before pushing the nine button four times and the eight button three times. Which would¡¯ve looked kind of odd in general, given this building only had two floors. Immediately, the elevator made a humming sound. It felt sort of like we were moving, but not really. It was a strange sensation that made my stomach just a little queasy for a moment.


    Either way, while that was happening, Paige finally replied, ¡°A girl¡¯s gotta keep herself busy, you know? Believe me, I¡¯m being careful. And hey¨C¡± She gave me a quick hug that left me sputtering. ¡°¨Cthanks for not being all pissed at me, dude. See you around, and good luck with your meeting with the lizard girl!¡±


    Then the elevator opened to admit us to the casino, just before Paige was through the doors and gone.

 Commissioned Interlude 4 - Merit, Kansas

    Bird-Chair-One. That was the designation of the termite who bustled his way along the sidewalk. He was named, as all members of the Sphere Colony, via the convention of ¡®animal-object-number.¡¯ Most termites weren¡¯t given names, of course. Most wouldn¡¯t have been capable of comprehending anything resembling the basic concept of a name. Or any idea of individuality, for that matter. They were simply cogs within a machine.


    But Bird-Chair-One was no ordinary termite. Oh, on the outside he would look like a fairly typical representative of a soldier member of the Coptotermes formosanus species. That was the scientific term for the commonly known subterranean termite, a species often referred to as the super-termite thanks to a reputation for building enormous, expansive colonies and the speed at which they could consume wood. They were considered an invasive species of insects, capable of doing untold damage to homes and structures, particularly if not caught and contained in time before the colony spread too much.


    And that was before you gave them human-level intelligence and superpowers.


    There was one slight difference, physically, between these termites and most members of their species. Unlike typical Formosan termites, these possessed two tiny black nubs, barely visible, at the end of their heads. Nubs which provided them with one of many advantages they had over others of their kind: the ability to see. Those tiny, almost imperceptible bumps on each termite¡¯s head, were eyes.


    On his way down the cracked and broken pavement, the termite passed a small swarm of his fellow hive-members, who lined up together. A stream of thick fog emerged from the gathered insects, drifting out in front of them before forming itself into a series of sharp, angled spears. Though spears made of thick fog were hardly going to intimidate anyone, in a moment, they changed. The fog vanished, replaced by metal in the same shape. Several six foot long iron spears appeared, before clattering loudly into a low, wooden wheeled cart that lay nearby. A harness made of wood and rope attached the cart to four dogs who lay dozing in the sun. Atop the cart, at the front, was a glass orb the size of a hamster wheel, where a single termite perched.


    Seeing (and feeling) the load of metal spears fall into place, the driver termite walked forward to stand on a small button, sensitive enough that even that miniscule amount of weight activated it. Doing so made a bell at the head of the cart ring, waking the quartet of dogs. Trained as they were, the dogs hopped to their feet and began to walk forward, pulling the loaded cart. The driver could move slightly left on the button to make a higher pitched dinging sound, which would make the dogs turn that direction, or move right to make a lower pitched donging sound, making them turn that way instead. Or the driver could move backward, creating a rapid beeping sound that would cause the dogs to stop entirely.


    The dogs weren¡¯t intelligent, but they had been well-trained and would expect treats for the work they provided. Treats the colony would provide.


    Watching the wagon pull away briefly, Bird-Chair-One waved his antennae toward a couple termites in particular who were among those creating more spears. They were his friends, Giraffe-Rock-Thirty-Two and Elk-Cup-Fifteen, and he sent what amounted to a telepathic greeting. Members of the colony were capable of communicating with one another by sending and receiving the equivalent of ¡®thoughts¡¯ through their antennae. It allowed very complex conversations to be had in a much briefer time than human dialogue.


    Yet, despite how quick and easy communication was, Bird-Chair-One knew he couldn¡¯t stay to spend time with his friends or marvel at how well training their new transport-dogs was going. His mission, at that moment, was entirely too important to indulge in even another moment of conversation. And he knew just how easily Giraffe-Rock-Thirty-Two could distract him with jokes and tall tales if given a chance. No, he had to keep going, hurrying along the broken sidewalk, attached to a broken street, in the middle of an empty field that had, at one time, been a town, if a quite small one. Now there was little to illustrate that humans had ever lived there, aside from bits and pieces.


    One year earlier, the humans had called this place Merit, Kansas. But that town no longer existed in any meaningful way. It was still listed on maps, of course. But every building within the city had been destroyed in a war. A war between humans and the Colony of the Sphere.


    Soon, Bird-Chair-One reached the nearest tunnel entrance, hidden as it was under the remains of a mailbox. Pausing at the misleadingly small hole (which gave absolutely no indication of the sheer size and scale of the structure it was leading into), he lifted those tiny eyes to look around once more. No houses or other buildings still existed in what had been Merit. Every human structure had been stripped down to nothing, including the very foundations. That was what had to be done, both to send a message to their human enemies, and to provide much-needed resources to defend themselves through the ongoing conflict. Resources for the war.


    It hadn¡¯t begun with war. No, it had truly begun a little over a year ago, with the sudden appearance of a foreign object, a glowing orb which had appeared in the middle of an ordinary colony of termites. The glowing sphere had simply popped into existence in the middle of a tunnel, disrupting the work there. In its appearance, part of the tunnel had collapsed. But a moment later, for no readily apparent reason, the tunnel had repaired itself, stretching wide to accommodate its new intrusion. Meanwhile, several termites that had been crushed by the orb¡¯s appearance were restored to their original, intact selves and were safely relocated.


    All soldiers or workers among the common termite lacked truly formed eyes or vision. They navigated using their antennae to detect odors, and could differentiate light from dark. And it was both the strange scent of the orb as well as the light it was giving off (to say nothing of the damage it had done to the colony tunnel) that attracted soldier investigation. One in particular drew itself close enough to reach out and brush the orb. And that was when quite literally everything changed. Not only for that single termite soldier, but for the entire colony.


    The first, most immediate change, was the fact that every single member of the colony immediately developed the ability to see. Those small, black, pebble-like bumps grew on the heads of the termites, awakening the ability of sight within all of them. Even those among the colony, such as the king, queen, and colony-expanding, winged alates they produced, who did technically have a rudimentary ability to see, had that ability expand greatly. Every single one of them, from that instant onward, had the gift of sight as clear as a human¡¯s. Even better, technically, considering how well the vision worked within the pitch-black tunnels.


    But the sense of sight, while being the most immediate and obvious change, was far from the most important. What followed, mere seconds later, was the ability to comprehend what that vision meant. The termites, one and all, every member of the colony, could suddenly understand what being able to see meant. They understood the concept of dying, of existing, of building. They knew what they were, what humans were, what other animals were. They were, one and all, as intelligent and aware as any average human. More importantly, the members of the colony were not only given a basic awareness and intelligence, they were gifted with the understanding of language. English, in this case. They knew what the words ¡®tunnel¡¯, ¡®orb¡¯, ¡®dirt¡¯, ¡®wood¡¯, and even their own designation of ¡®termite¡¯, meant. They knew the meaning of thousands of words, and even possessed at least a basic understanding of the history of humanity. The average termite in the colony, from that moment onward, possessed an equivalent knowledge and understanding of history, language, math, science, and more as, at a bare minimum, the average human high school student.


    As with humans, some were more intelligent and knowledgeable than others. A few of the lowly workers and soldiers developed a level of intelligence on par not only with the average human, but with human scientists or academics. The queen and king, meanwhile, were given the intelligence and knowledge needed to control the colony, including the understanding that the most gifted of their subjects had to be protected and nurtured for the good of the colony.


    It was an awakening, the uplifting of an entire colony of termites to a level of intelligence and understanding on par with any human. They were aware, intelligent, capable of individual personality. From that moment forward, every member of the colony, including those later grown from larvae, were just as individualized and capable of thought, creativity, and even emotions such as anger, compassion, and love as humanity itself.


    And yet, for as remarkable as the colony¡¯s sudden intelligence was, the gift of the orb (which had become a sort of god to them) did not end there. It also bestowed the ability for each of the termites to generate a bit of white fog. This fog was capable of disintegrating any currently non-living material (including dead wood) it touched so long as at least one member of the colony was currently standing on or touching identical material. For example, if one member of the colony was perched against a tire, any fog produced by any of the termites could disintegrate any other tires.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Materials dissolved this way could then be repurposed. The termites would simply produce more fog, manipulate it into the shape they wanted, and the fog would be replaced by the solid form made of their absorbed material. And while they were limited in how much material they could produce this way, it was not a one-one ratio with what they had dissolved. For every single pound of material the fog disintegrated, the colony as a whole could create ten pounds of the same material. Unfortunately, only original material could be multiplied this way. The termites could not, for example, disintegrate ten pounds of steel, create a hundred pound block, then disintegrate that and have access to a thousand pounds.


    That was the new colony, an intelligent collection of termites capable of working together to disintegrate any non-living material and use that material to build elaborate, incredible structures. Each could only produce a small amount of fog by themselves, but together, much large amounts could be used, and thus much larger structures created.


    With their new intelligence and individuality, the Colony of the Sphere (as they called themselves) attempted to reach out to the humans of the nearby small town of Merit, Kansas, by using their material-construction fog to create words made of stone, metal, and wood.


    Unfortunately, that attempt¡­ did not go well. The humans they tried to communicate with, their first attempt at contact, reacted horrifically. They rejected the very concept that the termites could be intelligent. No, worse, they reacted as though the colony were monsters, and tried to kill them. Almost the entire greeting party had been annihilated. A thousand of their people, a thousand intelligent creatures, who had been looking forward to meeting real humans, were wiped out.


    And the humans had not stopped there. They had set about attempting to wipe the colony out entirely. Not all of them, naturally. But enough. And too few tried to stop them. After all, what they were killing were only insects. Poison, fire, huge drilling machines, they had gone to extreme lengths in their efforts to destroy the termite ¡®invaders.¡¯


    The colony, of course, had retaliated once they understood that there was no negotiating, that there could be no compromise. Using their powers, they destroyed the drilling and digging machines, disintegrated the human weapons, even the clothes they wore. They moved further, destroying the very homes the humans lived in, the vehicles they drove, everything they could. They drove the humans to flee. And when more humans came with their weapons, their armored vehicles, their bombs, the colony destroyed those too.


    Eventually, the humans had stopped coming, for the most part. A few still approached, and those who could be trusted were traded with. One in particular, a human named Jerry Mose, had driven a scouting expedition of the colony across a large part of the state, to every junkyard, scrapyard, abandoned car lot, factory, everywhere that would allow the termites to disintegrate more incredibly useful metal and add it to their collective resources. The human authorities had subsequently cracked down much harder on anyone approaching or leaving the territory of the colony, performing very intensive searches to ensure none of the termites snuck beyond their borders. But by then most of the damage had been done.


    It was that, the addition of so much iron and steel (particularly given the colony¡¯s ability to multiply any material they absorbed by ten), which allowed them to create the structure Bird-Chair-One was descending toward as he entered the tunnel. The tunnel, unlike those built by ordinary colonies, was made of concrete. The entrance area was quite wide, with a sharply angled ramp leading downward. Along the top of that ramp were twenty tiny, insect-sized boards with wheels under them. Each board had a spool attached to the back, with string leading from that spool to another one attached to the wall. Next to each spool was a small button.


    Essentially, any member of the colony could perch themselves on a cart and push off. The cart would carry them, much faster than they could walk, down the steeply angled concrete tunnel, staying within narrow grooves which prevented the carts from banging into one another. On the way, the string attaching the cart to the wall spool would unwind. Once the cart was at the bottom, either the button attached to the wall spool, or an identical one down there, could be used to open a small stream of water into a bucket that was linked to the spool on the far side of the wall. The weight of the water-filled bucket would pull the cart back to the surface, and once the cart was locked in place, the bucket would empty and return to its normal position.


    It was a complex system, and the colony was always trying to improve ways that they could get around. Particularly given the fact that their small size was the biggest disadvantage they had in their war for survival against the humans who kept trying to exterminate them. For now, it worked well enough, and Bird-Chair-One rode one of the carts down, down down. The concrete tunnel went through twenty feet of dirt, followed by a further forty feet of solid cement that matched the tunnel itself. And even then, after passing sixty feet deep into the ground through that mixture of dirt and concrete, the ride was only halfway over. A further sixty feet of solid steel, the exterior wall of the buried protective bunker that had become the primary colony home, had to be passed through. Twenty feet of dirt, forty feet of concrete, sixty feet of steel, all protecting the colony from the humans who had tried so hard to eradicate them.


    For the moment, those humans had given up trying to destroy them, thanks to a mixture of the damage their very expensive equipment suffered any time it got close (the colony had scouting groups hidden in the wild watching all approaches toward their territory), and the arguments presented by those few humans that the colony counted as allies. They were intelligent and capable of rational thought, which prompted enough humans to speak up for their rights to exist that it was easier for the government to back off, put up signs and barricades blocking people from approaching the former town, and try to ignore the problem than it was to deal with it.


    But the colony had not forgotten. They knew that it was only a matter of time before more humans came to try to kill them. And they would not be helpless victims again. They prepared their defenses, their weapons, for when that time inevitably came. The next time humans decided to play exterminator with the Colony of the Sphere, they would find a much bigger fight on their hands.


    Bird-Chair-One and the rest of his people would not be wiped out. They had tried to extend a mandible of friendship to humans, and had been thoroughly burned. It was not a mistake they would make twice. While they could be allies with a few notable humans, those who had proven themselves, the colony would not expose itself to the risk of extinction again. Humans, as a general rule, were not to be trusted.


    Reaching the bottom of the ramp, Bird-Chair-One left the cart and raced through the maze of tunnels, passing many, many more of his people. Though not as many as there could have been, considering how much better the colony was at defending itself than most insects. Like other Touched-animals, they also seemed to live longer than most of their kind. Though given the fact that most termites lived only one to two years, and it had been merely a single year since they had been Uplifted, that was harder to gauge.


    The point was, they lived longer and thus the colony that had begun at a size of several hundred thousand should have been much larger. Yet something prevented that. Whether it was intentional on the part of the Sphere or not, their larvae only produced viable young at a pace that roughly matched their dead. Whenever they lost members of their species, for whatever reason, more larvae could hatch and grow. It kept the colony at roughly the same size, despite their greater intelligence and survival capability.


    Finally, the tiny termite soldier reached the entrance to the queen¡¯s chambers. It was guarded by dozens of those like him, who would quickly be backed up by hundreds more at a moment¡¯s notice. To say nothing of the various traps that could be triggered to block off the tunnel and fill it with things such as deadly spikes and a flood of water if need be.


    It took a few moments of telepathic communication of ideas and concepts before Bird-Chair-One was allowed to enter the queen¡¯s chambers. Finally, however, the thick stone slab was moved aside, and he hurried in, before stopping to behold the queen herself. Truly massive in size compared to the lowly soldier he was, the queen perched in the corner of the room. Her gaze was centered on what, to humans, would be a tiny, cell-phone sized personal television that had been dragged in there. To the colony, it was a massive monitor, connected through a cable leading to a hidden metal satellite dish that allowed it to pick up these signals.


    She was watching the human news, the anchor reporting from a town over seventy miles away. Nothing of any great import, but Lion-Sapphire-Zero insisted on keeping herself up to date on everything the humans were talking about. Just in case.


    At the approach of her subordinate soldier, her attention moved from the commandeered television, and she sent the simple telepathic request of, Success or failure?


    Success, Bird-Chair-One was happy to report. The boat floated properly on the water, and many of our people were capable of mounting it safely.


    This is excellent news, came the cheerful response from Queen Lion-Sapphire-Zero. Soon, we will be able to move our expedition along the river to the place the humans call Leavenworth. Let them watch our above-ground defenses with their satellites and drones. Let them continue to search our human allies to ensure none of us are smuggled beyond these borders. We will move our people through the underground tunnels to our boats, and sail them under cover of darkness far beyond where the humans expect to find our people.


    After a brief pause, Bird-Chair-One felt safe enough in the queen¡¯s good mood to ask, Will we attack them then, to repay the lost massacre?


    No, the queen informed him. We will not initiate hostilities. But we will place our people in position to retaliate if need be.


    And if the humans do make any move to exterminate us again, they will find the cost to be far higher than they could have imagined.

 New Deals 13-05

    I¡¯d seen casinos in person before. Not that I¡¯d actually stepped inside them, of course. But my family and I had stayed at hotels where casinos were, and I¡¯d seen the rooms themselves from a distance. This one, though, was far different from those glimpses I¡¯d had of the public versions. Emerging from the elevator, I didn¡¯t see a massive, wide-open area full of bright, colorful slot machines loudly clanging and chiming everywhere. I didn¡¯t see neon lights, scantily-clad women walking around with trays of snacks and drinks, or¡­ anything I typically associated with an idea of what a casino floor looked like from my own experiences and movies.


    Instead, I mostly saw an enormous circular room, big enough to hold a full-size basketball game in. Directly in the middle of that circular room was an equally circular bar that took up maybe one-fourth of the space. There were a bunch of people sitting at the bar, and others serving them from behind it. Or within, rather, given the fact it was a circle. Either way, most of them, employees and guests alike, were wearing masks of various kinds. It wasn¡¯t one hundred percent or anything. I did see a couple people¡¯s faces. And some of the masks were clearly more elaborate or expensive than others. But elaborate or cheap, most people wore something that in some way obscured their identities, just as Paige had said.


    The bar itself seemed to be made entirely of glass in a way that was clearly deliberately meant to resemble ice. It was ¡®frosted over¡¯ in places, had actual buckets of ice sitting out with bottles resting in them, and so on. As if the whole thing had been carved out of a frozen block.


    The floor under my feet resembled ice-like glass as well. It was like stepping onto a skating rink, except not slippery at all. Actually, there was a tiny bit of bounce to the floor, making it soft to walk on despite its appearance. And it wasn¡¯t just the floor that maintained that appearance. The walls, the decorations, the soft blue lighting that filled the room, it was all winter themed.


    Meanwhile, in the area immediately surrounding the bar, there were tables where people were quietly playing cards. On the far side of the room, opposite where I had come in, there were the games like roulette and craps. You had to go up a very short flight of about three steps to a vaguely raised area to reach those tables, and there was some kind of guard or bouncer posted next to the steps. What he was there for, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure. But he was definitely a big guy, and it looked like he had a visible gun attached to his hip. So they weren¡¯t screwing around. Like the rest of the people in here, the bouncer over there wore a mask. His was shaped like a bull¡¯s head, with actual horns. He looked like a modern minotaur armed with a Glock or something.


    Finally, there were doors scattered around the entire outside edge of the large room, even some up on the raised area where the roulette and craps tables were. Most of the doors had keypads next to them, as well as some kind of intercom. Some were labeled with numbers and names I didn¡¯t know the meaning of, like ¡®Starfall¡¯ or ¡®Viridescent.¡¯ It was that latter door that I saw Paige pass through, giving me one last look and wave before it closed after her.


    Other doors were more simply named with obvious meanings like, ¡®Slots Room 1¡¯ or ¡®Karaoke Room 3.¡¯ I didn¡¯t really need to think much about those ones, obviously.


    Curious, I checked the maps and GPS thing that Wren had included in my helmet display. As expected, they were offline. People like me weren¡¯t allowed to know where this place was.


    Just as I managed to take all of that in, a voice from one side drew my attention. ¡°Ahh, Mr. Paintball.¡± It was a man in a well-tailored suit, wearing a white, form-fitting mask against his face with only his mouth exposed. Even his eyes seemed to be covered, though he could clearly see through it. He was approaching me briskly, his voice quick, yet polite. ¡°Such a pleasure to have you take a look at our establishment. I trust you have been informed of the rules here.¡±


    ¡°No fighting, no trying to unmask people, no acting like you know them if they haven¡¯t introduced themselves to you, mind your own business, basically?¡± I offered with a shrug. ¡°I got the rundown, yeah.¡± And unless I missed my guess, this guy had probably already heard everything that had happened outside from Tell.


    ¡°Very good, sir,¡± the white-masked man politely replied with a slight nod. ¡°We take such rules quite seriously here, I assure you. That is how we remain in business. I am called Chips. Was there anyone you wished to meet, a game you might like to try? Rest assured, we also have rooms full of the finest and most advanced¡­ ahhh¡­ ¡®video games¡¯ if you would like to rent time by the hour.¡±


    Before I could say anything to that, Pack approached from around one of the nearby tables with a quick, ¡°I¡¯ve got it, Chips. Thanks. Paintball just needed to settle a little bet we made while all that was going on with the boss¡¯s kid.¡± She had Riddles perched on one shoulder (in lizard form), but her other pets weren¡¯t in view.


    ¡°Very good, Miss Pack,¡± came the crisp response. ¡°Please do let someone know if you require anything further. It would be our pleasure to provide for someone who was so instrumental in the protection of our princess.¡±


    He pivoted on one heel then, striding away. Watching him go, I lowered my voice. ¡°So what did you want to show me? Please tell me it¡¯s not the sick game room you rented out.¡±


    Instead of answering right away, Pack glanced around before turning. ¡°This way, walk with me.¡± Turning, she headed around the edge of the room, counter-clockwise. Riddles, on her shoulder, turned a bit as though making sure I was following.


    So, I did. Picking up the pace to catch up with her, I spoke up. ¡°Look at all the people around here. You wouldn¡¯t know it was¡­ wait, what time is it? I¡¯ve lost track. It¡¯s been a busy night.¡±


    On the way, I saw some people look up from their games or drinks. They didn¡¯t pay too much attention, given that was apparently against the rules. But my appearance obviously made them curious. Yeah, I had no idea what they were making of the fact that I was here. How well known was the fact that I had helped Blackjack with his daughter?


    ¡°It¡¯s about one in the morning,¡± came the response, before Pack gestured to a table in a darker area far from any of the games. Her lizards were all spread out over the surface, happily crawling over one another as well as eating and drinking from bowls that had been laid out for them. Except¡­


    ¡°Hey,¡± I spoke up, pointing to a tiny (seriously, it was about the length of her finger) lizard with a neon blue body and bright green head. ¡°That one¡¯s new.¡±


    Pack pulled out a chair, sitting down before kicking the leg of another for me to join her. She put her hand down close to the lizard in question, letting it run up her fingers. Then she lifted her opposite hand, watching as the beautiful thing jumped almost a foot to reach it. ¡°This is Scatters. She¡¯s new, yeah.¡±


    Taking the offered seat, I smiled behind my helmet, leaning a bit closer. ¡°She¡¯s really pretty.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, she knows,¡± Pack drawled, setting the lizard back on the table near a bowl of water. ¡°She¡¯s a daredevil and a show-off.¡± Shaking her head, she focused on me, her voice low. ¡°Okay, so my thing I can¡¯t really show you yet. People came to talk to Blackjack.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± I quickly put in. ¡°Should we be saying anything? I mean with¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she interrupted. ¡°No surveillance allowed in the casino. And trust me, I know how fucking weird that is. They have ways of checking for cheaters, but they don¡¯t allow cameras, bugs, or any kind of recording devices. It¡¯s the only way this place attracts the clientele it does, and they have lots of people come in to make sure it stays that way. No one wants to have any chance that things they say in here, or even just the fact that they were here, could get out. See those things up near the ceiling?¡± She gestured to what looked like loudspeakers positioned throughout the room. ¡°They stop your phone from working, any GPS you have, cameras, audio recording equipment, whatever. None of that stuff works in here, even for us. And I had Eits check, just to be completely sure. If it ever got out that La Casa did keep any kind of surveillance here, this place would be completely dead. And everyone else in the city would probably unite to attack us.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°What about people with eavesdropping powers?¡± I pointed out quickly. ¡°Enhanced hearing, that kind of thing.¡± Even if they couldn¡¯t record what we were saying, I really didn¡¯t want to take the chance of anyone even hearing it. There was too much at stake, too many ways someone having the slightest idea of what we were doing could totally fuck all of us over, evidence or no.


    ¡°Stand up,¡± Pack urged, gesturing for me to move. ¡°Take a step over there and look at me.¡±


    Uncertain, I did so, rising from the chair and taking a few steps away. Again, I could see a few people glance over, some clearly more interested than they actually wanted to show. I was a young boy (as far as they knew) Star-Touched sitting in this secret casino. Obviously, they were a bit curious. Which, again, made me wonder just what they thought was really happening here.


    Either way, I took those few steps away before looking at Pack. She pointedly reached up, lifting the black, featureless mask enough (revealing dark skin) that I could see her mouth open as she started to speak. And I heard¡­ nothing. Her mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. Or¨C she beckoned for me to come closer. So I did, and she held up a hand to stop me, reaching up to take my arm. Mouth still moving, she pulled me forward and down to be within a foot of her. Instantly, I heard her reciting some monologue speech. It sounded like it was from a play or a movie or something. Whatever it was, she was reciting it carefully. After another word, she gave me a push backward by the arm. The second my head was a few inches further away, the sound disappeared. Her mouth kept moving, but I heard absolutely nothing.


    Pack repeated that a couple times, pulling me forward to hear, then pushing me back to demonstrate that the sound disappeared. Finally, she gestured for me to sit down, tugging her mask back down over her mouth as she explained, ¡°Touched-Tech attached to the tables. Makes it impossible to hear things if you¡¯re not invited to the meeting. No eavesdropping allowed. Again, that¡¯s how this place can function as a place for secret meetings, dude. You think we¡¯re the only ones who would be in deep shit if our secrets got out? This whole world revolves around secrets. Nobody would trust La Casa¡¯s casino as a place to have their meetings at if there was any chance, any chance those secrets might get out. Like I said, they have independents and people from other gangs show up to inspect the place. Blackjack isn¡¯t gonna risk giving up the money all these people bring in just to catch a random secret or two before people figure things out and we all become public enemy number one.¡±


    She had a point. I knew that. Everything she said made complete logical sense. Still, I didn¡¯t like it. It was too risky. Which maybe made me too paranoid. All the stuff Pack told me about how protected everyone¡¯s privacy was in this place, and I still didn¡¯t trust it. Because the real problem was, the second I trusted something like that and was wrong was the second everything fell apart. I couldn¡¯t take that kind of risk, not with something like that. The thought of any of these bad guys, even Blackjack, finding out who my parents were was just¡­ bad. Very bad.


    So, I wasn¡¯t going to say anything too dangerous, just in case. But I supposed the bit about Wren wasn¡¯t the worst possible thing for anyone to overhear if the privacy measures failed or whatever. With that in mind, I explained everything that had happened with Cavalcade and Glitch, how Braintrust wanted Wren to start paying her way in one form or another. Though I still used the kid¡¯s chosen Touched name instead of her real one. I also made a point of not outright talking about how this was obviously related to the Ministry tax thing, but the implications between my words were obvious enough that I could tell the other girl picked up on it.


    When I was done, Pack gave a long series of muttered curses. ¡°Those guys are pretty arrogant fucks, huh? I don¡¯t suppose just going in there and beating their asses is an option.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m quite ready to challenge a gang like that, even if you helped,¡± I murmured dryly. ¡°Kinda got a lot going on as it is. Besides, they¡¯d be after Trevithick, not me. And I can¡¯t be there to help her twenty-four seven. I don¡¯t wanna put her under that kind of pressure.¡±


    Shrugging then, I added, ¡°I mean, sure, working on getting rid of Braintrust is a noble goal and all. Probably more noble than you care about. But that¡¯s a long term thing. Short term, keeping them happy and away from Trevithick is the best way to go.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not gonna make stuff for them,¡± Pack observed quietly, leaning back in her seat as she watched me for a moment. ¡°All the time I spent with that kid during that whole thing¡­ yeah, she¡¯ll never go for that part. She is not gonna make toys for the evil, terrible supervillains.¡± I had a feeling her eyes were rolling a bit as she over-stressed those last few words pointedly.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I agreed. ¡°She won¡¯t make stuff for them and she won¡¯t consult on any of their projects. That¡¯s just¡­ that¡¯s not her. I¨Cwell, maybe she would. If she thought it would help us, if she thought her uncle or one of us was in danger, she might do what they said just to protect them. But it would¡­ it would hurt her. She¡¯d hate it. She¡¯d¨CI don¡¯t want to do that to her.¡±


    ¡°So what are you gonna do?¡± Pack asked curiously, fingers idly brushing the head of Mars Bar.


    ¡°I think the best thing to do is to tell her about the tax part, about paying them out of money that she makes selling her stuff,¡± I carefully answered. ¡°I can help a bit.¡± I could help more than a bit, but I didn¡¯t want to be too cavalier about the money I had access to. It felt like that might be a bit risky as far as maintaining my secret identity went. ¡°But the point is, it¡¯ll take time to set all that up. Meaning I need to make sure the Braintrust people understand they¡¯re only getting a little bit and that it¡¯ll be awhile before they start seeing any of it. And that if they start playing hardball, it won¡¯t go well for them.¡±


    ¡°You want backup for that,¡± Pack realized. ¡°You want someone to help you make sure Glitch and her people know if they pick a fight with the kid over this whole thing, they¡¯ll be biting off a bigger piece than they think.¡±


    I nodded once. ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re playing relatively nice now, but the¡­ implications were pretty obvious. I want them to know there¡¯s a bigger fight than they might think if they try to push too hard, too fast. They¡¯ll get something out of it, but they have to back off until Trevithick¡¯s damn good and ready.¡± Even as I said that, a sigh escaped me. ¡°I¡¯m a shitty Star-Touched, huh? Look where I am. Look what I¡¯m doing. I¡¯m talking about getting some innocent¨CI¡¯m talking about getting Trevithick to pay taxes to a fucking supervillain gang instead of just fighting them.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re talking about not throwing her under the bus to satisfy your ego,¡± came Pack¡¯s retort. ¡°You already said taking them down or whatever is a long term goal. Which is pretty damn ambitious on its own, for the record. But keeping them off Trevithick¡¯s back for now, that¡¯s not a bad thing. Like you said, you can¡¯t be there twenty-four se¨Cwait, here we go.¡±


    Before I could ask what that last bit meant, she urged, ¡°Don¡¯t look up too fast or too obviously. Use your helmet to cover it, just turn your eyes as much as you can. Like I said before, some people came to talk to Blackjack. They were in one of the private rooms over there. Very carefully, just turn your eyes to look a bit to the left, that way.¡±


    Uncertain, I did so. And immediately almost fell out of my chair. Because she was right, Blackjack was there. And he was standing with my parents. They were just¡­ there. No masks or anything. Standing right in the open.


    I was so shocked in that moment, that they would be so brazen, that I didn¡¯t say anything for a second. And with my helmet, that meant Pack couldn¡¯t see my reaction. Which turned out to be a good thing, as she noted, ¡°I just wish I knew who they were.¡±


    Wait. Wished she knew who they were? My parents were¡­ kind of famous, especially around Detroit. It was possible she might not recognize them, but¡­ ¡°You don¡¯t know who they are?¡± I asked carefully, trying to keep my voice even instead of letting it shake. My gaze was locked onto my parents, who were deep in conversation with Blackjack.


    ¡°Nah,¡± came the response. ¡°Do you? They seemed important when they showed up, but I¡¯ve never seen them before.¡± She chuckled then. ¡°Too bad we can¡¯t take a picture and put it out there like, ¡®Does anyone recognize these two guys?¡¯¡±


    My head started to nod, then I stopped. ¡°Two guys?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, yeah, dude.¡± Pack sounded slightly confused. ¡°Those two men standing right over there with Blackjack. The tall guy with the black crewcut and the red-haired guy next to him.¡±


    Was¡­ was she blind? Neither of my parents had red hair, and my mother certainly wasn¡¯t a guy. Unlike me, she could never have been mistaken for a boy. She had long black hair, while my father¡¯s hair was dark blond with just a bit of distinguishing gray to it. They¡­ they didn¡¯t look a single bit like what she was describing. And yet, they were very clearly the only people standing there talking to Blackjack.


    So why the fuck was I seeing my parents talking to him, while Pack saw two entirely different people?

 New Deals 13-06

    For a few long seconds, I just sat there, frozen from confusion. Pack saw two guys standing there talking to Blackjack. But I saw my parents. Was I being affected by some kind of power that made me see things differently? No. That didn¡¯t make sense, did it? No one in here knew enough about me to make me see my family members over there. Plus, if it was some kind of ¡®see people you know¡¯ power or something, Pack wouldn¡¯t just be seeing two random guys.


    Okay, so it wasn¡¯t that. My flash of panic that someone in here knew about my identity and my family and was fucking with me only lasted a brief moment before I got it under control. There was another explanation, one that didn¡¯t involve all my secrets suddenly being out, thank God.


    ¡°Dude.¡± Pack sounded confused and maybe a little exasperated. ¡°Are you okay over there?¡±


    Was I okay? Hah. Not really, considering the way my heart had just been trying to claw its way out of my chest so it could escape. ¡°Sorry,¡± I quickly muttered, resisting the urge to stare at Blackjack and the people who were either my parents or looked exactly like them. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day.¡± And from the looks of it, getting longer by the minute. Wait, all days got longer by the minute. Fuck, I knew what I meant. ¡°You were talking about those¡­ guys.¡±


    Guys, she saw guys. It had to be a power of some kind, right? My parents¨Cwait, was that how they hid their identities? By appearing as different people to others¨Cbut why would I see them for who they were? Was I immune to the power or something? Why would I be¨Chold on¡­


    ¡°Like I said,¡± Pack was in the middle of replying in a low voice, ¡°they came in to talk to Blackjack. I didn¡¯t hear a lot before they went into the other room, but I heard a name. Tate.¡±


    That made me do a double-take, looking at her while seeing my mother and father still in the middle of what seemed to be an intense conversation. ¡°Tate? You definitely heard that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, as in the name of that kid you were talking to Way about,¡± she confirmed. ¡°What was it¨CAndy? Tate, that was right, wasn¡¯t it?¡± For a brief moment, she sounded uncertain.


    ¡°Anthony,¡± I corrected in a much lower voice. I still wasn¡¯t comfortable here like this. ¡°Anthony Tate, yeah. So those two came in and talked to your boss, and they said something about Tate.¡±


    ¡°I told you,¡± she reiterated, ¡°I didn¡¯t hear much. They went into the other room pretty quick. I heard something about Tate, and then something about someone¡¯s father being dead.¡±


    Blinking a couple times, I echoed, ¡°Someone¡¯s father being dead? Whose?¡±


    Snorting, Pack retorted, ¡°The fuck should I know? I wasn¡¯t exactly in a position to ask for clarification, dude. They said something about someone¡¯s father being dead¨Coh, I kind of got the impression this wasn¡¯t something new. The way they said it, he¡¯s been dead for awhile.¡±


    Someone¡¯s father had been dead for awhile. Biting my lip, I tried to sound as casual as possible. ¡°Which one of them said it? What¡¯d they say, exactly? I mean, as much as you can remember.¡±


    The other girl took a moment, clearly focused on recalling as best as she could. ¡°The guy with the red hair said, ¡®The Tate situation was supposed to be over and done with. We put it behind us.¡¯ Then Blackjack said, ¡®At least the father¡¯s dead.¡¯ Wait. Wait, did he say ¡®the father¡¯ or ¡®your father?¡¯ Shit. Now that I think about it, I¡¯m not sure. He either said ¡®At least the father¡¯s dead¡¯ or ¡®At least your father¡¯s dead.¡¯ Then they went into the other room.¡±


    Sinking back in my seat, I thought about that for a few seconds. The Tate situation, my parents were annoyed because something about it was coming back to bother them after they thought it was handled. But what? Was it something about Paige? Paige had been erased from my memory around the same time that Anthony was, and I¡¯d heard her talking about how whatever she was doing had something to do with him. She¡¯d specifically said that my mom and dad had no idea where she came from or why she was doing¡­ whatever she was doing because they hadn¡¯t thought about the name Anthony Tate in years. So of course they were connected, but how much of that did my parents know? Was this whole conversation about the Tate situation not being over because of Paige, or because of something else? What prompted that?


    ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Pack was asking, her voice clearly uncertain as she absently scratched one of her lizards. ¡°Do you know those guys over there or something?¡±


    Boy, talk about being simultaneously very wrong and very right. For a moment, brief as it was, I almost considered telling her about how I wasn¡¯t seeing those two the way she was. But that would¡¯ve led to her asking who I was actually seeing. And even if I just described them instead of saying they were my parents, she¡¯d definitely start looking into those details. And if that led her to who they really were¡­ well, was that really bad? Did I think it was bad because it would put her in danger, or because it would put my family in danger? Which one was I really bothered more by? God damn it, what was wrong with me?


    Finally, after shaking myself, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. And no, I¡¯ve never seen those two guys.¡± Hell, those words were the literal truth, I had most certainly never seen the two guys she was talking about, not even when I looked right at the two who were supposed to be them.


    And yet it was still a lie. A lie that made me feel like shit after saying it. Pack was a villain, but she¡¯d also been my friend. She¡¯d helped me, had gone out of her way to come save me from Pencil. She had put her lizards in danger to help me, and how was I paying her back?


    Fuck. This whole thing was just so complicated. Too god damn complicated. I had no idea how to make it better. I couldn¡¯t tell her the truth. Not¡­ not yet, right? But no matter how many times I said ¡®not yet,¡¯ it was becoming increasingly obvious that I was going to have to make that kind of leap at some point. Once I did, it would be a leap I couldn¡¯t take back. And it felt like the longer I waited, the harder the fall after that leap was going to be.


    I couldn¡¯t see her face, of course, but I had the feeling that Pack was squinting at me uncertainly. After a moment of that, she shook her head. ¡°Well, keep an eye out for them. Sounds like they¡¯re connected to this Anthony Tate thing you¡¯ve been looking into. And¡­¡± She hesitated before offering a shrug. ¡°And that other thing you were talking about.¡± Apparently even Pack didn¡¯t actually want to mention the Ministry out loud right here in the casino.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can find out,¡± I promised, before adding, ¡°Thanks, Pack. Seriously, I know this whole thing is hard for you after everything La Casa¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m not doing anything against La Casa,¡± she insisted firmly. ¡°Just looking out for my own interests on top of that. I wanna get to the bottom of this whole thing. I¨C¡± In mid-sentence, she glanced over before squinting. ¡°And there they go.¡±


    Sure enough, my parents and Blackjack were walking away together, heading for one of the exits. Not the one I had come through, of course.


    After we both watched the trio head off, Pack turned back to me. ¡°Right, so, about this whole Trevithick thing. You want help getting Braintrust to play nice.¡±


    ¡°I want to make sure they know that pushing any harder is going to end up being more of a pain than it¡¯s worth,¡± I confirmed. ¡°I know we can¡¯t get away with telling them to fuck off completely. Not like that. But giving them something so they feel like they¡¯re walking away the winners, while making sure they know they can¡¯t get anything more than that without a bigger fight? That sounds doable. I mean, with help, yeah.¡±


    Pack was quiet for another few seconds, before she gave a short nod. ¡°I like the kid. Not just gonna sit around and let her be exploited. So yeah, I¡¯ve got your back. Just tell me when and where so we can make an impression.¡±


    Thanking her, I added, ¡°Speaking of making an impression, you¡¯ve gotta tell me. What does the new lizard turn into?¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Scatters?¡± There was sly amusement to the girl¡¯s voice. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not telling you yet.


    ¡°You¡¯ll just have to wait and find out.¡±


    *****


    I couldn¡¯t just leave Wren out of the situation entirely, much as I might¡¯ve liked to. That wasn¡¯t fair to her, given the fact that the whole thing was about Braintrust wanting to use her talents in one way or another. She deserved to know what was going on and be included in this situation.


    So, Pack and I went there next. Actually, we called to arrange a meeting the next day, but Fred said the kid tended to work through the night and sleep in the mornings (being home-schooled through the afternoon). So, we headed over right then. To keep things subtle and avoid drawing attention to the girl, we used her car (or at least, a car that La Casa allowed her to use), with heavily tinted windows, heading for Wren¡¯s shop.


    The girl herself met us on the main shop floor, literally (with the help of her little winged jetpack thing) throwing herself clear from the elevator to the entrance to half-crash into the girl beside me for a tight hug while squealing, ¡°Pack! You¡¯re okay! Hi! Are the lizards okay?! Can I see ¡®em? Are they sleeping? Can I pet ¡®em? Are they hungry? Can I feed ¡®em? Did you really get a new one? Is it a boy or a girl? Did you bring her? Wait, did you eat already? Are you hungry? We could get pizza. For us, not for the lizards. But I have crickets and worms and stuff for them just in case! Hey, maybe they could put those on a pizza!¡±


    The words all came in a rush, blurted out as soon as Wren thought of them, without any pause to allow Pack to actually respond. And through it all, she clung tightly to the other girl as if she was a long-lost best friend who had only just returned. It reminded me of the fact that these two had bonded for days while Pack stayed around Wren when the whole situation with the vials was going on. Pack wasn¡¯t some criminal to Wren. She was a friend.


    Then again, she wasn¡¯t some criminal to me either. It was a lot more complicated than that. More complicated than even she knew, really. I didn¡¯t exactly have that much right to judge her given who my family was and the fact that I still hadn¡¯t told anyone about it. Yeah, it was dangerous, but it was also¡­ fuck. It was complicated. All of it was just so complicated.


    Shaking that off for the moment, I watched as Pack introduced Scatters to Wren, who basically lost her mind over the adorable little neon gecko. Pack pulled the rest of her lizards out of their cage and carried them to the nearby table, where they ate from the assortment of reptile-appropriate food that the Tech-Touched girl had provided. Wren, of course, asked the same thing I had, about what Scatters turned into. Again, Pack deferred for the moment, promising to show both of us after we talked to the girl about what we had to talk about.


    And then we did just that. Well, after asking for Fred (he¡¯d been up in the apartment area) to come down so we could talk to both of them together. I laid out everything that happened with Braintrust, how they had approached me, their offer/request/demand, and why I thought it was for the best to appease them at the moment to avoid any problems. I promised that I was going to look into dealing with their group for good, but that that was a long ways off and I didn¡¯t want Wren or Fred to become targets in the meantime.


    ¡°I¡¯m not making anything for them,¡± the nine-year-old blonde insisted flatly, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest while setting her chin. ¡°They¡¯ll hurt people with it. And I¡¯m not helping them fix their own stuff.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied with a glance toward Fred. ¡°That¡¯s kinda what I assumed. Which leaves the option of paying taxes to them for operating in the city. Pack and me are gonna go over there, find them, and let them know that they¡¯ll get a small bit out of whatever you sell, and that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°But you can¡¯t just beat them up and arrest them?¡± Wren sounded confused, staring at me with those wide sea-green eyes. ¡°They¡¯re bad guys, they do really bad¡­ err¡­¡± She trailed off, glancing toward Pack as though only just realizing that the other girl was technically a villain.


    Pack, for her part, sounded a little amused as she casually drawled, ¡°Everyone¡¯s got their reasons for doing stuff. And everyone¡¯s got friends that do bad things sometimes. These guys aren¡¯t your friends, and they¡¯re demanding you give them money or toys to hurt people with.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, what she said.¡± I agreed, before adding, ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m not ready to take on a whole gang of Touched-Tech-Enhanced supercriminals yet.¡± My fingers tapped the side of my helmet. ¡°Not that I haven¡¯t pissed off plenty of them already, but it feels like I should pace myself.¡± I did not point out that I didn¡¯t want Wren and Fred to be targets. It felt like the younger girl wouldn¡¯t take that very well. I wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d insist she could take care of herself, or be upset that I wasn¡¯t fighting the bad guys just to protect her, or what. But I was pretty sure framing it as me having too much to take on right then without adding yet another gang of pissed off supervillains would play better with her.


    From the way Fred looked at me, he understood the rest of what I wasn¡¯t saying. The man offered me what was obviously a thankful nod, but let his niece do most of the talking.


    It worked. Wren still clearly didn¡¯t like the idea of appeasing the bad guys, for sure. But she accepted that it wasn¡¯t a fight we needed right now and that the best way to handle it was to hand money to them so they¡¯d go away. At least until we were ready. She did, however, insist that she was going to work on ideas to deal with Braintrust while also reiterating that she was never going to build anything for them, no matter what. That was her firm line in the sand.


    After that was settled, Pack took Scatters and transformed the tiny, colorful lizard into her alternate form. Which, as it turned out, was an equally colorful large reindeer. Seriously, this thing was metallic blue along most of the body, its legs were darker blue, it had a black stripe running down the sides to offset the two blues, and its head and antlers were bright green.


    Wren lost her mind all over again, grabbing onto and hugging the incredibly beautiful reindeer-lizard while cooing about how adorable she was.


    Pack informed us that they were working on a saddle for Scatters, after helping Fred pick Wren up and set her on the animal¡¯s back. The young inventor held on tight, squealing happily as Scatters took her for a short, slow trot around the inside of the shop. She was having the time of her life. Which made me wonder how much she¡¯d love it if the lizard-deer could go out on the street and let loose.


    Someday, I told myself, I¡¯m gonna show that kid how to have a really good time, without a bunch of stupid supervillain bullshit getting in the way.


    Pack interrupted my thoughts about that by raising her voice to ask, ¡°Hey, Wren, you think my new friend is cool, has Paintball over there shown you his new paint thing yet?¡±


    ¡°New paint thing?¡± Wren, still perched atop the neon lizard-deer, echoed curiously while looking over at me. Fred, standing a bit out of the way, also looked interested.


    So, I showed them how the pink paint worked. That was as much of a hit as Scatters was, especially once I showed Wren how she could stretch her limbs out while they were pink. She thought that was the funniest thing in the world, and kept having Fred hold her hand in place while she ran the other way to pull her arm as far out as she could.


    Watching the kid goofing off like that while occasionally redoing the pink paint again, or shooting some random object she pointed out with it, I found my thoughts shifting back to what I¡¯d seen at the casino. My parents except not my parents. They had been at the casino in some kind of¡­ power-enhanced disguise? Except whose power? Maybe it was a Tech-Touched device. Right, that made sense. Some kind of¡­ umm¡­illusion-generator that somehow didn¡¯t work on our own family? Maybe so that they could keep track of each other and still see each other for who they¨Cwait.


    Was that why I¡¯d seen Simon out without any kind of mask or anything on? Was that why he¡¯d been going around apparently without anything to protect his identity, because he was using one of those illusion devices? That made sense too. I¡¯d wondered before about just why my brother could go around without a mask or anything to hide his face. If he was using that illusion tech, it would explain a lot. Even if it didn¡¯t explain exactly where those illusion devices came from. At the very least, it made sense that my family would have access to them.


    Which might also explain how my father could be in two places at once, come to think of it. It could help explain how he could operate as Silversmith and appear as himself at the same function, if they used that illusion tech on someone else to look like him. That was probably part of it.


    ¡°Hey, kid.¡± That was Fred, watching me curiously from nearby while Pack and Wren whispered about something over by Scatters. ¡°You okay? Seemed kinda¡­ lost there for a minute.¡±


    Forcing all those thoughts away for the time being, I made myself nod. ¡°Oh, yeah. I¡¯m good. I just found a couple pieces to a puzzle I¡¯ve been working on for a long time.¡±


    Of course, this illusion thing meant it would be even harder for me to prove my family were the bad guys even if I found someone I could safely point that out to. What was I supposed to do, point at someone who, to everyone else looked like some random guy, and insist he was my mother? Somehow, I didn¡¯t think that would go very well. To say nothing of all the other illusion-tricks they could pull.


    It was something, at least. As I¡¯d told Fred, it was a couple more pieces to this puzzle. It didn¡¯t solve the entire problem, but at least it answered a couple questions for me. True, none of those answers were to the question of what I was supposed to do with everything I knew. But hey, at least I was making progress.


    While lost in those thoughts, my normal phone buzzed in my pocket. Knowing that I had to check in case it was my parents so they didn¡¯t send out a search party, I made sure no one was paying attention before tugging it out. It was an e-mail, and I almost put it away again before doing a double-take. The e-mail was an invitation to a birthday party on Saturday, just a few days away. That wasn¡¯t that odd, considering how many birthdays and other things I got invited to regularly. The odd part was that it was for Paige.


    Now why the hell would Paige Banners invite me to her birthday party?

 New Deals 13-07

    It wasn¡¯t a mistake, apparently. My name was written out and everything. Paige was inviting me to her birthday party. Or her (adopted) parents were making her. Or this was some kind of elaborate trap. Actually, the fact that I genuinely wasn¡¯t sure if it was a standard mean girl school teenage bullshit trap or something more nefarious involving her supervillain father (not that I had any room to judge as far as that went) kind of said something about how my life was.


    So which was it? Assuming this whole thing was intentional, was Paige playing her bitchy shtick again, waiting for me to either come so she could pull something or not come so she could tell everyone what a snob I was? Or was it something worse she and her father had cooked up?


    Complicating everything, of course, was the fact that I¡¯d found out we used to be friends. Which was still something that I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around, no matter how many times I thought about it. Paige Banners and I were friends at some point? The same girl who had been¡­ who had made so much of my school life¡­ who had¡­ how were we friends? Why was she apparently so different now? It couldn¡¯t just be memory loss, right? What was going on?


    In any case, two days (really a day and a half) after getting the invitation, I still didn¡¯t know exactly what that was all about. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have much of a choice about going. Apparently Paige¡¯s family (or the people who had apparently adopted her?) had also sent the invitation to my parents, making it an official sort of thing, and my mother had said that I needed to put in an appearance to avoid upsetting the Banners. It was a rich people thing. My family was rich, the Banners were rich, we had to play nice in some respects. I didn¡¯t have to stay for long, but I had to at least show up.


    In any case, now it was Friday, which meant two things. First, we were supposed to have dinner with that reporter guy who was up from Los Angeles. And second, I was going out that night to meet with those two from before, Murphy and Roald. I actually had a plan for that bit, at least. I¡¯d talked with Wren and she said she could use their help putting some stuff together. Extra hands and all that.


    So, that at least was something I could start them on. Honestly, I was just glad I¡¯d come up with an answer to one of the questions I¡¯d been thinking about the past couple days, even if it was the simplest one. As for the whole birthday thing and the wider Paige situation¡­ yeah, I had nothing. My brain kept saying that at least I could use this chance to find out more. It was the best opportunity I¡¯d been offered to get close to Paige (a thought that would have made me dry heave not long ago) without it being obvious that I was investigating her. She¡¯d invited me, after all, whatever the reason. I could use that, maybe.


    To distract myself from all those confusing thoughts (as well as the fact that I had every reason to be suspicious about this party), I was taking a trip through the city as Paintball about an hour after school. Not really looking for anything in particular, just running and skating through the rooftops and across buildings to clear my head. I was going to have to head home for dinner eventually, but that wouldn¡¯t be for another couple hours. We weren¡¯t eating until seven, which gave me plenty of time to take a good run and hopefully get my brain on straight before it twisted itself into knots.


    Yeah, clearing my mind was obviously going super-well, given how much I was still thinking about that whole thing. Urgh. Giving my head a hard shake, I focused on where I actually was. The answer, in that case, was ¡®skating along the very edge of a roof, using green paint for speed as I raced toward the far end.¡¯ The building was a good twenty stories high, leaving the view immediately to my left fairly¡­ precarious, to say the least. I ignored that, staring straight ahead as the wheels of my skates glided easily along the roof. The green paint meant I was ¡®gliding¡¯ at about forty miles an hour, so the far end was coming up pretty fast. That steep drop loomed.


    Spraying blue paint at the very edge of the roof just in time, I activated it, crouching at the last second before I was launched up and forward with a loud scream of adrenaline. Fuck, fuck! Say whatever about the stress of my whole situation, but I loved this part of my powers. It was so incredibly freeing. I literally hurled myself out into open air twenty stories up. If I fell, if I fucked up, if my powers dropped for whatever reason, if I made any real mistake, the consequences would have been catastrophic. It was terrifying but also so¡­ so amazing. I loved it. I loved my powers, and how I could use them.


    Flipping over high in the air, I twisted my body until my feet were pointed sideways toward the side of the building I was flying at. The momentum from my launch carried me clear across the street that was so far below, until I hit that wall. Instantly, the pace-skates that Wren had put together shifted gravity so that being sideways against that building was the same as being right-side up for me. I didn¡¯t even slow down, ¡®landing¡¯ hard against the wall before immediately continuing to skate, that time along the wall. My skates made clickety-clack sounds as they passed through the grooves of the bricks, almost calming in a way. Especially if you didn¡¯t think about how high up you were. It helped. All of this was helping me feel better.


    Before reaching the edge of that wall, I retracted my skates with a quick command and simply ran the last few steps while focusing on the purple stars I¡¯d previously set up along my legs. Activating them for the strength boost, I threw myself sideways off the wall. At the same time, I turned my entire arm and hand bright pink and heaved it out as hard as I could while activating that paint as well. My arm, suddenly rubberized, actually stretched a good ten feet out to catch hold of the ledge of another building. Between the purple and pink paint, I was able to grab the ledge and swing myself over that way, letting out another loud whoop of joy at the rush.


    Releasing the ledge as I managed to swing myself over, I cancelled the pink paint so my arm snapped back to normal. Now I was diving through the air feet-first, at an angle toward the side of a much lower building, only a few stories tall.


    Pointing my hands that way, I shot a spray of pink paint, activating both that and the orange sun image I already had on my back. The instant before I would have hit the pink paint, I deactivated it, shifting the pink to its secondary effect of making the target very springy for those brief few seconds. Which was all the time I needed before my feet collided with the wall, visibly denting it inward a bit before it snapped back to the way it had been to launch me back up and toward the opposite side of the street.


    Flipping over through that, I hit the wall of another building a couple stories up and glanced down to see a few people taking pictures from below, or even waving. A few called, asking for autographs, or even for a ¡®ride¡¯ through the city.


    I waved back, crouching a bit to slap my hand against the wall. The logo I¡¯d made up for ¡®signing¡¯ things back at the Ten Towers headquarters appeared. Black oval with ¡®Paintball¡¯ written in white cursive letters, along with a rainbow spray of all the other colors from one side to the other. I made the logo large enough to see before throwing myself back into a run once more. I¡¯d let the people down there have some time to take pictures of the logo before dismissing it so some poor guy didn¡¯t have to scrub it clean.


    Yeah, that stuff seemed pretty silly and even arrogant if I thought about it too much, but I¡¯d heard about how important it was to keep a good public image. I really didn¡¯t have it in me to drop down there and talk to people while I was still trying to clear my head. But I could, at least, give them that little logo thing to show I wasn¡¯t ignoring them. Besides, playing things up like that was fun. And I had to admit, the cheers as I ran along the wall before using blue paint to launch myself up and away were pretty amazing to hear.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Just as I landed on the edge of another roof, the Touched-business phone buzzed in my pocket. Glancing down to see the people gathering up under the logo I¡¯d painted to take pictures, I pulled the phone out and glanced down. It was the number That-A-Way had given me.


    ¡°Hey, you busy?!¡± she immediately blurted the second that I answered. It sounded like she was out of breath. ¡°Cuz we could use a little help over here!¡±


    Well, that got my attention. Quickly straightening, I asked, ¡°Help over where, with what?¡± Tempting as it was to add a snarky comment about how she better not be asking me to help her move, I restrained the impulse. This sounded serious. She was definitely in the middle of something big, given the shouts and other sounds I could vaguely hear in the background.


    There was a brief pause while That-A-Way clearly dealt with something else, before she responded. ¡°Fox Theatre on Woodward! Near downtown. You know where¨Cwhat the fuck am I saying¨Cthe baseball stadium! We¡¯re at the baseball stadium! There¡¯s some big fight going on between the¨CRain, get down! Some big fight going on between the Niners and the Eights. They¡¯ve got the big guns a couple blocks north, but we¡¯re catching the edge of it and could use a little¨C¡± There was a sudden loud pair of gunshots that cut off her words, and my heart leapt into my stomach until her voice came back midway through a sentence, ¡°¨Cof shit! Paintball?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on my way!¡± I replied quickly, wanting the other girl to focus on what she was doing. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there, I¡¯m just¨CI¡¯m coming, just a few minutes out!¡± With that, I dismissed the logo on the building nearby before running to the edge of the roof I was on, launching myself upward. Fox Theatre on Woodward. That was the same street where the library that I¡¯d eavesdropped on Paige¡¯s conversation with her father was on, but a couple miles further south. And That-A-Way was right, it was also directly next to Whitaker-Trammell Field, the massive domed baseball stadium (for the Detroit Tigers) my father had helped fund the creation of to replace the former Comerica Park about ten years earlier.


    In any case, I really was only a few minutes away. At least the way I traveled. Staying atop the buildings, I raced toward the theater as quickly as possible. My skates seemed to barely touch down before I launched myself again, urging myself to fucking move already. It didn¡¯t matter how fast I was going. It didn¡¯t matter that I was hurtling myself recklessly through the air while barely paying attention to my surroundings. It felt too slow. Go, go, I had to get there. If something happened to That-A-Way, or any of the others, because I was too slow to help¡­ I couldn¡¯t let that happen. I had to get there right god damn now.


    Actually, I really wasn¡¯t paying that much actual attention to my surroundings. I was running along the side of buildings, jumping across billboards, popping my skates out to glide across the very edge of roofs, all while going way too fast to be judging all of this manually. It was like when I was navigating through those trees in the middle of the night. I just¡­ knew where to go.


    Not something to worry about right then. Another example of my weird extra sense or whatever, but I didn¡¯t have time to focus on it. The Minority. That-A-Way. I had to get there to help. Any other weirdness could wait until later.


    On the plus side, it didn¡¯t actually take that long for me to get where I was going. And it took an even shorter amount of time for me to hear some of what was going on. There was gunfire, blaring horns and squealing tires from cars still trying to get away from being in the middle of it, screaming, and more. So much more. I was heading straight into a storm of chaos and violence. And, from the sound of what That-A-Way had said, this was just the edge of things. Just how bad was it further north, where the so-called ¡®big guns¡¯ were fighting?


    Pretty bad, clearly. But I had to focus on helping these guys. First, however, I had to see what was going on. My eyes scanned the street below frantically as I came to a stop at the edge of an office building across the street from the theater itself. Below me was the spot where the smaller Columbia street crossed Woodward. Columbia led straight through a couple large parking lots directly in front of the stadium.


    But baseball wasn¡¯t the point. The real point were those two parking lots and the theater across Columbia street. There were people down there, spread all through the street, partially in the theater itself from the look of things, and in those parking lots. It was a mix of police, Prev gang members, Touched gang members, and the Minority. Not to mention a handful of civilians who were cowering on the ground, unable to get out of the line of fire.


    Judging from my quick look, what Way had said made sense. There were definitely two different gangs down there, a mix of Ninety-Niners and Easy Eights. It looked like some kind of massive fight had broken out, the cops intervened and were quickly outgunned, and now the Minority were trying to help. But they too were outnumbered. Luckily, the two gangs seemed more interested in fighting each other than in actually causing damage to the Star-Touched or police.


    There. Janus (Uncle Friendly and Mister Harmful) were standing at the edge of the nearest parking lot. They¡¯d made their hands and arms massive, and were currently using them to lash out at the nearby Whamline. But the Minority guy kept launching energy coils that exploded to knock the incoming hands out of the way. He couldn¡¯t do more than that, fighting a defensive battle, because there were two civilians huddled on the ground right behind him. Whamline was covering them, repeatedly knocking Janus¡¯ hands out of the way. But with every grasp, the conjoined men kept getting closer to getting hold of him. They were using the fact that Whamline had to protect the prone civilians against him, almost like they were playing a game. Like a cat with a mouse. They were wearing him down.


    Using one shot of blue paint to launch myself that way, then another on top of the traffic light in the middle of the intersection, I flipped over in the air before shooting a spray of pink toward the tall lamp post about ten feet away from Janus, coating it as much as possible. Just before crashing into that same post (activating a bit of orange on one arm to avoid knocking the wind out of myself), I cancelled the pink paint while blurting, ¡°I know you¡¯re into this villain thing, but¨C¡± My full body hit the post, bending it all the way over in half before I threw myself off it to the side. ¡°¨CI really think you should see the light!¡± As I said those last words, the lamp post snapped all the way upright and then continued over in the opposite direction, like flicking one of those springy doorstop things. The top of the lamp literally slammed into the top of their joined heads. ¡°Up close and personal-like,¡± I finished from my crouched position, watching the men reel backward. Or forward, in Uncle Friendly¡¯s case. Not that he looked all that friendly right then. They both seemed fairly annoyed with me, even as the lamp post snapped back to its normal position. But hey, at least I had their attention.


    Green paint, green paint, green paint! Activating the wide emerald wings I¡¯d put on my back, I used the enhanced speed to barely avoid the truck-sized fist that Janus basically launched at me. Hurling myself upward and over, I landed on his extended wrist as that hand shot by right under me, shooting yellow down at that to slow them just a little. At the same time, I threw myself in a sideways flip, hitting the underside of their other arm, which was raised slightly higher, running along that with my gravity-defying boots.


    A few steps in and Janus clearly knew where I was, as the arm lifted up before abruptly slamming toward the ground. They were trying to squish me like a fly. And they might¡¯ve managed it, if I hadn¡¯t used that shot of yellow to slow them slightly. As it was, I barely managed to toss myself at the ground and away from the descending arm, tucking into a forward roll that carried me just out of the way as it slammed into the ground so hard I nearly lost my balance.


    Fortunately, the fact that I¡¯d managed to get their attention so well wasn¡¯t all bad news. It also meant that Whamline was able to regroup. Mister Harmful shouted a cursed warning, but it was too late, as the Minority Touched sent out four quick energy coils, which wrapped around Janus by all four limbs before quickly hurling him out of the way and across to the far side of the lot.


    ¡°Go help Way and Rain!¡± he shouted at me, pointing to the theater across the street. ¡°They¡¯re inside, with hostages! I¡¯ve got these guys!¡±


    My head snapped that way. I could see where the doors of the theater had been broken down entirely. That-A-Way and Raindrop were in there with bad guys and innocent civilians, apparently. Without pausing to think at all, I threw myself into a sprint that way, ignoring the screamed threat from Mister Harmful. He didn¡¯t matter. Neither did his conjoined partner. The only thing that mattered was getting to That-A-Way and Raindrop.


    And hoping I wasn¡¯t too late.

 Commissioned Interlude 5 - Eastland, Oregon

    The town was (for the moment) named Eastland, located about fifty miles southwest of Portland, Oregon and a bit north of McMinnville, the seat of Yamhill County, which Eastland was part of. A little over a year earlier, its population had been around nine thousand and rapidly dropping as older citizens passed away and those who were younger moved on to towns with better prospects. In the thirteen months since, that had ballooned out to about sixteen thousand. Construction projects and new jobs abounded in the area, as multiple companies flocked to build, bringing a flood of people and resources.


    There were plenty who objected to so many changes and new arrivals of course. Many town meetings had been held where new demands and rules for what these incoming companies were allowed to do, where they were allowed to build, what sort of businesses could be there, and more were argued over and either adopted or rejected. For the most part, the town accepted the new arrivals and embraced just how much their town¡¯s fortunes had been reversed. After all, not so long ago, there had been very little in the way of new jobs and steady income. The population had been sliding for years, even decades, with no indication of anything new arriving to stabilize their prospects. Entire families disappeared from the town, heading off to bigger cities. Cities with jobs to offer.


    But then something had arrived. Something that had changed the town and its inhabitants forever, and had triggered this year of mounting prosperity and growth. And that prosperity and growth showed no signs of abating any time soon. Particularly given the town¡¯s full embrace of their new situation, to the extent of already unofficially adopting a new name. A name that would become official once it made its way onto the ballot in the next year.


    Once it did, and passed, Eastland, Oregon would become Honeyland.


    At a small diner in the middle of town, a diner that had stood and been owned by the same family for well over sixty years despite some recent efforts to buy them out, a Latino man in a suit sat on a stool at the counter with the latest copy of the town¡¯s paper held in front of him. He wasn¡¯t from Eastland (or Honeyland, as many had already taken to calling this place), but the man was curious about local events. And besides, he had time to kill before his guide arrived. Humming softly to himself, he glanced over the headlines, his eyes scanning idly across stories about the local high school baseball scores. As he did so, a small insect buzzed near the paper in front of him, and the man absently drew a hand back to swat it away.


    His hand never made it that far. Just as it started to move down, the man¡¯s wrist was caught in an iron grip that was almost, yet not quite, painful. He looked up to see the older, gray-haired guy next to him, who had been engrossed in his own coffee, holding his arm. ¡°Around here,¡± the elderly man informed him in a low voice that bordered right on the edge of being threatening, ¡°we don¡¯t look kindly on people hurting our friends like that.¡±


    Hurting their¨Conly then, as he looked back to see the yellow and black insect hovering in front of him, did the Latino newcomer realize what he¡¯d almost done with that unthinking swat. Eyes widening, he shook his head. ¡°Oh¨Coh, damn. I¡¯m sorry. It wasn¡¯t¨CI was just¨C¡±


    Another hand, belonging to the young, dark-haired waitress behind the counter, was extended to gently pry the old-timer¡¯s grip away. ¡°Thanks, Karl, but I think it¡¯s probably safe to let him go now. You didn¡¯t mean any harm, did you, Mister¡­?¡±


    ¡°Deans,¡± came the easy response. ¡°Agent Deans, Miss, ahhh¡­ Hayley.¡± As he answered (taking a glance at the nametag she wore) the man flipped open the wallet that sat on the counter in front of him to reveal the FBI badge there. ¡°And no, I didn¡¯t mean any harm. Force of habit, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    ¡°You make it a habit to crush people who were just trying to check the baseball scores?¡±


    The new voice, or rather, voices, came from Deans¡¯ right. He turned toward that way to find not just the single bee he had almost swatted, but a small swarm of them. Fifteen, to be exact. Each of them spoke as one, forming a perfect chorus. ¡°Our deepest apologies in that case. We will make certain to ask your permission next time.¡±


    For a moment, the only thing the man could do was stare, struggling not to gape open-mouthed. His words finally emerged after a few seconds of that. ¡°I¨Cthey¡¯re right, you do talk.¡±


    ¡°Not in the same way that you do, Agent Deans,¡± came the fifteen-voiced response. ¡°We are implanted with what you would consider a chip in the back of our thoraxes and connected to our brains. A small, quite powerful speaker extends from the chip and out the underside of our abdomen, producing the sound you can hear.¡±


    Taking that in, Deans slowly shook his head. ¡°Sorry, I just¨CI¡¯ve never actually had a face-to-face with insect-Touched. You¡¯re not exactly common, especially with¨C¡± Cutting himself off at the thought, he grimaced. ¡°Sorry. I should¡¯ve been paying more attention to what I was doing.¡±


    Again, fifteen voices spoke as one. ¡°The fault is partly ours, Agent Deans. We forget that not everyone who might happen to be in town is entirely accustomed to our presence. Don¡¯t fear, we will not hold it against you during our tour.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m supposed to meet¡­¡± the man trailed off upon realizing the truth. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re who I¡¯m supposed to meet here, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Fifteen bees flew down, then up in a perfectly coordinated maneuver that he took to be their version of a nod. ¡°Yes, we are here to answer questions and take you to see the town on behalf of the hive-queen. But you should eat your breakfast before we go. It is the most important meal of the day.¡±


    Sure enough, as the man glanced to the counter, he saw that the toast and eggs he had ordered had been neatly placed in front of him during his distraction. ¡°Oh, thank you, Miss Hayley. And thank you, Karl.¡± He added with a look toward the man who had stopped him from swatting the bee in the first place.


    From there, he ate his breakfast, including (at the urgent suggestion of both the bees and humans), putting honey on his toast. It was local honey, grown and provided by the very hive that the swarm in front of him were representing. And the moment he did, biting into the honey-covered bread, the man¡¯s eyes closed with a murmur of pleasure. ¡°My God,¡± he managed after a long moment of simply absorbing the taste, ¡°it¡¯s even better than what you get in the store.¡±


    Hayley grinned, winking at the bees who hovered nearby. ¡°It¡¯s fresh,¡± she reminded him. ¡°Right out of the hive, practically. The stuff we send to the stores is pretty great, but nothing compares to what you can get right here. Right, guys?¡±


    There was an almost melodious buzzing sound that was apparently their version of a chuckle, before those fifteen voices replied together, ¡°We do endeavor to provide excellent honey for our friends and fellow citizens of Eastland. And, of course, an excellent product for others to buy.¡±


    ¡°How do you do it though?¡± Agent Deans asked curiously after taking another amazing bite. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re just one hive. No offense at all, but your honey is sold all over the country. They¡¯ve built an entire factory to help process it. You¡¯ve got multiple shipping companies moving in to take it everywhere. How can you possibly produce that much? I looked it up, and a hive should only produce about a hundred pounds a year, maximum. You¡¯ve been producing a lot more than that.¡±


    That buzzing chuckle came back once more, before the bees assured him, ¡°We will get into all of that and more. For now, enjoy your meal, Agent Deans. When you¡¯re finished, we will take you on a tour, and answer any of your questions that we are able to.¡±


    They really didn¡¯t have to tell him twice. Deans ate all of the toast, then got seconds to put a bit more of that incredible honey on. He could see exactly why the town¡¯s fortune had turned around so thoroughly, with their ability to ship that stuff all over the country. However they managed to produce so much of it, the fact was that they did produce it. And having that product had been one of the primary catalysts that had begun to bring Eastland (soon to be Honeyland) back to life. It wasn¡¯t the only thing, of course. But it was the first, and arguably the biggest, factor in the town¡¯s new prosperity. It was the main catalyst from which everything else had grown.


    Eventually, after finishing and paying for his breakfast, Agent Deans left the diner. The small swarm of bees flew ahead, guiding him out to the street. On the way, he briefly wondered what the flying insects did when someone wasn¡¯t there to open the door. His answer came when they flew, one at a time, through a tiny hole in the wall next to the door itself (he supposed it was there rather than actually in the door so that someone opening it wouldn¡¯t end in tragedy for the bee trying to go through the hole).


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Either way, once out on the streets, the swarm hovered in the air in front of him. That chorus of joined voices asked, ¡°Would you like to take your car, Agent, or walk so that we might show you around? If you are not pressed for time.¡±


    The man shook his head. ¡°No, I ahh, I¡¯d like to see whatever you can show me. That¡¯s my job, actually. There are a lot of¡­ curious people back at the agency who want to know how all this works.¡±


    Again, that buzzing chuckle followed by the chorus of, ¡°That is not surprising, Agent Deans. Come, we will tell you what we can. And answer any of your questions. Surely you have many.¡±


    They began to fly down the sidewalk, with Deans following. Before saying anything else, the man glanced around. There were people, obviously locals, walking everywhere. And more than that, there were other small swarms of bees right alongside them. They were everywhere, working right alongside the humans. He saw one man in a delivery uniform standing outside a van, holding the back door open while a swarm of bees landed on several large boxes that were stacked outside of it. Three or four bees per box landed, then rose into the air again with the boxes coming with them.


    Tactile telekinesis, Deans knew. That was one of the Touched-bees powers. Just by touching something, they could lift incredibly heavy objects (particularly given their relative size and strength) and fly around with them. It was one of the things that allowed the hive to be so helpful to their human allies. Not to mention how much they used it to build their own devices.


    Yes, build their own devices. Because beyond their greatly enhanced intelligence/sapience and the Field-touched power of the tactile telekinesis, the bees were also Tech-Touched. Hence the communication devices that had been implanted in all of them that allowed the bees to talk as they had been.


    From the briefing he¡¯d received before coming here, Agent Deans understood that the bees were specifically focused on creating devices that, as the eggheads had put it, ¡®enhanced cooperation and benefited the group as a whole.¡¯ That was their Tech-Touched specialty, as it were. They specialized in designing and building inventions that would help groups work together. So, ¡®devices that allowed them to communicate with humans¡¯ definitely fit within that.


    ¡°I do have a few questions, actually,¡± the man managed after trailing after his escorts for a minute as he took in the sight of so many humans and bees working together. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to ask this without being, ahhh, rude. But the way you all speak together, knowing¡­ uhh, the way your people¨Cinsects¨Cthe way hives generally¨C¡±


    ¡°You wish to know if we are individuals,¡± came the chorus of responses as one, ¡°or a single hivemind.¡± From the way they said it, the question was clearly one that they were accustomed to.


    Pausing briefly to watch a handful of bees who seemed to be serving as crossing guards (complete with keeping a hand-held stop sign suspended in the air) to help a group of children cross the street toward an elementary school, Deans slowly nodded. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I don¡¯t know how else to put that except, are you individuals, or one big collective?¡±


    ¡°The answer is yes,¡± came what seemed to be the teasing response. All fifteen bees flew up directly in front of his face, hovering there for a moment. Then, apparently to make a point, seven of the bees flew to the left, while the remaining eight flew to the right.


    The eight bees to the right, without the seven to the left, continued with, ¡°We are a collective.¡±


    The seven bees to the left, without the eight to the right, added, ¡°But that collective may be of any size. Even one, though that is rare and frightening.¡±


    With that, the eight bees split once more, becoming two separate groups of four. The first four announced, ¡°There are three levels of our minds. The small, the large, the whole.¡±


    The other four further clarified, ¡°The small is our own individual minds. What you would call your own thoughts. They are small, and do not say much on their own. It is lonely in the small mind. We don¡¯t like it.¡±


    The group of seven then added, ¡°You might think of it as being somewhat asleep. A brain that is half-conscious, and feels¡­ sluggish, or trapped. It is claustrophobic and lonely.¡±


    ¡°Lonely,¡± all fifteen bees chorused together as they flew back into one group again, continuing with, ¡°The large mind is us. Any group together may swarm and become a large mind. That is less lonely. We think better, we think stronger, we are more than we are as small. It is the large mind that we use in most interactions.¡±


    ¡°And the whole mind, that¡¯s what you called the last one, right?¡± Deans guessed. ¡°That must be the entire hive.¡±


    Sure enough, the fifteen bees flew up, then down, their version of a nod again. ¡°Correct, Agent Deans,¡± came the response. ¡°We are always connected to the whole mind. Think of it as your internet, as we all access it and may see and interact with each small and large group as needed no matter how far we are from one another. But it is more than that. It is a personality, the full collection of our small and large minds. The hive-queen directs this whole mind, yet we are all a part of it. This is hard for human individuals to understand, which is not intended as an insult. You simply do not have the proper frame of reference. We as the hive are one mind. We as the large minds are one mind. We as the small minds are one mind. All are true. We are whole and we are pieces. We are one mind fractured into as many parts as necessary to do our work.¡±


    ¡°I ahhh¡­ I think I understand,¡± Deans slowly replied after thinking about that for a minute. ¡°I mean, I think I get what you mean in general, even if I don¡¯t have the right frame of reference, as you said. It¡¯s kind of like having one mind that¡¯s really good at multitasking.¡±


    There was a brief pause before the swarm of fifteen carefully agreed, ¡°It is something like that.¡±


    With that much explained, at least as much as the bees are able to, the group continued onward. Deans was led through the town. He saw even more examples of how the hive and humans were working together. The bees used their telekinesis and their inventions to help their human allies put buildings up quickly and far more easily than the humans could do alone. That was how this town was able to expand so quickly. Houses and other buildings were much easier to build when you had a fleet of flying insects that could land on large materials and fly them exactly where they needed to go.


    Eventually, they came to the main plant where honey was sorted, packaged, and shipped. Watching pallet after pallet of barrels being loaded into the back of several large trucks with the town¡¯s soon-to-be official moniker on the sides, Deans slowly asked, ¡°Okay, what about the honey? You said you¡¯d explain how it¡¯s possible to have so much of it.¡±


    ¡°The simplest explanation,¡± the bees informed him, ¡°is that we have created machines which do the same work we would do, but far more efficiently. Flowers are grown within a greenhouse in the center of the facility. Everything from nectar extraction all the way through the rest of the¡­ process is performed by our machines, supervised by parts of the hive. Rather than acting as the individual workers to create very tiny amounts of honey, each of our small and large minds in the factory supervise the production of much larger amounts. That, and the aid of our human allies and friends, allows the level of production that you see.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s working for you, whatever the specifics,¡± Deans murmured. ¡°I heard the FDA reps were impressed by your set-up.¡±


    Again, that up-down hovering nod. ¡°They visit quite often, to ensure our work remains impeccable. We are told there is some pressure from outside forces to declare the factory unsanitary. But we take great pains to ensure that it is safe at all levels.¡±


    They were right, Deans knew. With a grimace, he nodded. ¡°Yes, well, there¡¯s a few people out there who don¡¯t exactly like the idea of insect-Touched. Actually, that¡¯s part of¨C¡±


    ¡°You wish to speak with the hive about the Merit termites,¡± the swarm finished for him. ¡°Before the situation escalates further.¡±


    There was no sense in beating around the bush, so Deans simply nodded. ¡°Yeah, pretty much. The¡­ first contact with the Merit termites didn¡¯t exactly go very well. Not like it did here when you and the people of Eastland started working together. What was that¨Ca kid you talked to first?¡±


    ¡°Phoebe Burton,¡± they confirmed. ¡°Nine years old. We prevented her abduction by a stranger, a member of one of the so-called Abyssal cults, and ensured his capture. Her mother and law enforcement were grateful. This eased our introduction to human society and allowed us to set the groundwork for the alliance that exists today.¡±


    Deans exhaled long and slowly. ¡°Yeah, well, things were different in Merit. A few¡­ overly-excited individuals down there made things a hell of a lot more complicated.¡±


    ¡°They tried to kill the hive,¡± his escorts pointed out bluntly. ¡°Townspeople there worked very hard to kill those intelligent termites.¡±


    ¡°Not all the townspeople,¡± Deans protested. ¡°Believe me, a lot of them¨Cmost of them tried to stop it. Things just got really bad really fast, before anyone realized just how far south it was going. Now we¡¯ve got the military keeping people out and we¡¯ve tried to send some people in to talk, but there¡¯s a lot of¡­ distrust. And from what we¡¯ve been able to see, things in Merit could blow up even worse. The termites are working on their own countermeasures. If we¡¯re not careful, those people who want the full-on war, who want to genocide the hive, are gonna get what they want. But I¨C some of us thought that it might be easier to communicate with the termites and come to a mutual understanding if we had a go-between that was more on their level.¡±


    For a moment, there was no response. The bees simply hovered there in front of him. He had the feeling there was some bit of conversation or consideration (probably both) going on, and remained silent rather than interrupt.


    Finally, the bees moved, hovering up a bit closer as they answered together. ¡°Yes, Agent Deans. We believe that would be for the betterment of all, hive and humans alike. Allow us some time to prepare a group of ourselves to send a large mind with you to speak with the termites of Merit. We will invite them to join us here, in the safety of our home-hive, where we all may work together.


    The agreement seemed to take a weight from the FBI agent¡¯s shoulders, as he straightened a little bit. ¡°Yeah? Good. Well, thanks. Thanks a lot, seriously. You have no idea how helpful that¡¯ll be.¡±


    ¡°We believe we do have some idea,¡± the bees corrected. ¡°We are well-aware of how badly our own introduction and integration to society could have gone. It is our duty and our honor to be able to help others in such a position.


    ¡°We only hope that we are not too late to help calm this situation, before it escalates into something far worse.¡±

 New Deals 13-08

    When the Fox Theatre was built and opened almost a hundred years ago, in 1928, it had been the biggest, most impressive theater in the city with over five thousand seats. It had basically been the anchor of an entire chain of theaters owned by Fox, and a stunning wonder for everyone at the time. Over the following decades, it gradually fell into decline until it was restored in the late 80¡¯s. Then it was upgraded and given a fresh life once more about ten years ago, around the same time that the baseball stadium across the street had been rebuilt.


    A lot of money had gone into restoring and upgrading this entire area of the city. Hell, a lot of money had gone into restoring the entire city in general. Yeah, I was fully aware that for quite some time through the end of the last century, the city had been spiraling down a hole. But I¡¯d always experienced a Detroit that was on the rise, or even a full-on leader in development and manufacturing. We had one of the strongest economies in the world, and had for the past decade or so, with plenty of Touched who flocked here to build or benefit from Tech-devices. They couldn¡¯t build neighborhoods fast enough for the people who wanted to move to this place. Even with the crime, even with the violence in the streets, you could still be successful here.


    But how much of that success was directly connected to the things my parents did? My family were villains, they helped criminals do bad things, helped them steal from and hurt people. That was completely true. And yet, it was also completely true that the city was better now than it had been for decades before Touched powers appeared. Would the city have been even better than it already was without this ¡®Ministry¡¯ directing things? Or would it be worse? Had they been responsible for pulling enough manufacturing and such back here? Or would there be as much growth and not as much crime if they weren¡¯t stirring the pot? How much good had they done, and how did it weigh against the bad they¡¯d done? And did any of that actually matter, morally?


    All those thoughts and more kept playing through my head the entire time that I was moving toward the broken-in doors of the theater (covering my costume with various paint colors the entire way). But I shoved them down, with some effort, focusing on the real problem. That-A-Way and Raindrop were trapped in there, with civilians and bad guys. Beyond that, I had no idea what I was getting into, only that those two needed help.


    The lobby of the theater was fucking gaudy as hell. Seriously, the ceiling towered like fifty feet over my head, sloping upward with slanted golden walls on either side, brilliant red and gold pillars lined both sides of the massive room, with golden lamps hanging down to illuminate everything, and plush red carpets covered the floor. I¡¯d heard people refer to its style as ¡®part-Egyptian, part-Hindu, and part-Babylonian.¡¯ It was a lot, to say the least.


    More important than the loud design choices was the fact that I wasn¡¯t alone in the lobby. The second I entered, two guys dressed as Easy Eights gang members and three dressed as Ninety-Niners all whirled my way. One of the Easy Eights guys tackled the nearest Ninety-Niner, starting to wail on him with the butt of his pistol before the guy managed to get an arm up and the two struggled together.


    But I couldn¡¯t exactly intervene with either of them, because the remaining three guys (one Easy Eights and two Ninety-Niners) apparently decided that I was the bigger threat. All three opened fire, even as I activated the picture of an orange shield I¡¯d painted onto my chest before coming in here. At the same time, I triggered a pair of green swirly lines along my legs and hurled myself into an upward flip, using red paint shot toward one of the pillars to lift myself higher even as most of the shots passed by under me. A few struck home, but the orange paint reduced the bullets to a mere stinging annoyance.


    In mid-leap, as the red paint attached to my gloves and to the nearby pillar yanked me that way, I cut it off, flipping over in the air while hitting the pillar with blue. The second my feet hit it, I was launched straight down toward the men like I was being shot out of a cannon.


    They tried to react in time to shoot me again, but couldn¡¯t adjust their aim fast enough. Between the green paint speeding me up and the blue sending me hurtling straight at them from above, the three guys were basically sitting ducks. And my orange paint was still active, so I just stuck both arms out, crashing into two of the men full-on. They hit the ground together with me on top of one, wind knocked out of them both.


    The third guy was whipping around to shoot (which probably would¡¯ve hurt more from that range), but I managed to throw myself on my side and lash out with a foot to kick at his leg while boosting myself with the small purple stegosaurus shape I¡¯d put on one side of my left arm. It wasn¡¯t a huge increase to my strength, but it was enough that the solid kick knocked the man¡¯s legs out from under him, dumping him onto his back with a cry.


    Rolling backward and rising to both knees, I saw the two men I¡¯d knocked down both scrambling to grab their guns off the floor while still trying to suck in air. Even now, they were going to try to shoot me. Or possibly each other. I really wasn¡¯t sure which. But it didn¡¯t matter. Quickly, I hit the weapons with red paint, yanking them to my gloves before tossing them to either side with a blurted, ¡°You¡¯ll shoot your eye out, Ralphie!¡±


    While they were trying to react to that, I planted blue paint under my knees while pushing off, launching myself up and forward over all their heads. On the way past, I flipped over, hitting all five men (including the two who were still struggling with one another) with a wide spray of red paint from both hands. Then I landed in a roll before bringing myself to a stop.


    Covered in red paint, the five men all started to move at me as one massive rush. But, they came up short as I used white and a little bit of black paint to color in a bright, toothy grin across the front of my helmet. Unnecessary, but hey. Then I pointed both hands upward, drawing their attention toward the ceiling so far above. A ceiling where I had also taken the time to shoot more red paint.


    The curses started before I even activated the paint, morphing to screams as the five men were hurtled upward. I let it carry them about halfway there before cancelling the paint. Their momentum brought them even higher, nearly to the ceiling itself before gravity kicked in. Then they were screaming for an entirely different reason, as they fell toward the hard floor below.


    I couldn¡¯t just let them hit the ground, not from that height. Forty-plus feet wasn¡¯t exactly jumping out of an airplane, but it could still potentially kill them. And as much as I felt like they deserved a few broken bones for putting uninvolved, innocent civilians in danger with their stupid fucking gangwar, that was too much. And it wasn¡¯t my place to decide something like that anyway.


    So, before the screaming, flailing men hit the ground, I hit them with a spray of orange paint. Just enough that the fall still hurt, still left bruises and maybe a bit worse than that, without being lethal. They laid there, sprawled out and panting (along with a few whimpers). None looked like they were in any mood to fight right then. Or even move, really.


    I didn¡¯t have time to play with them anymore. Damn it, damn it, I couldn¡¯t have just moved past them and left them to shoot me in the back (even this felt like a risk, justifiable as it was), but still, it felt like I was wasting time. Running onward through the lobby, I called back, ¡°Why don¡¯t you guys take five, we¡¯ll pick up from the top later!¡± On the way, I thought to hit each of their scattered weapons with small shots of red paint, yanking them to me before dumping the pistols in a garbage can I was passing. It wasn¡¯t perfect. None of this was. But at least the guns were out of sight and the guys behind me were too busy getting over pissing themselves to worry about fighting right at that moment. It was the best I could do with the time I had.


    If the lobby of the theater was crazy opulent, the main room with the stage was completely fucking absurd. There were fake stained glass windows that could be lit up or darkened at any point, and could have the actual design changed to match the mood of the play. There was gold everywhere, several tiers of seats, all of which were incredibly plush (and really easy to fall asleep in if you were a bored eleven-year-old who was dragged to the theater by your parents). There were more pillars, an incredibly beautiful vaulted ceiling, the works. The place was, again, large enough to seat over five thousand people. For some kind of reference, I¡¯d asked someone before and they said a modern public movie theater sat between two hundred and three hundred people in a single screening room.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    So yeah, the place was fucking enormous. And, as promised, there were people in here. The moment I passed through one of the entrance doors, I could see a group of civilians huddled together ahead and to the right, cowering between some seats. It looked like there were several dozen at first glance, but I wasn¡¯t sure because of how they were crouched down.


    Of more immediate importance was the reason they were all cowering. Namely, all the bad guys that were everywhere. Seriously, I saw a mix of Ninety-Niner and Easy Eights Prev thugs spread throughout the entire room. They were clustered up in small groups, but those groups were all over the place. They were brawling with weapons, a few had guns they were trying to bring in to play, and none seemed to care about the civilians they were endangering. Hell, I could see a few innocent people who weren¡¯t with the main huddled group. Instead, they ducked where they were, hands over their heads as they tried to stay low.


    It was all-out chaos in the seating area, a brawl that was tearing this place apart. I could see where several of the opulent ¡®windows¡¯ and hanging lights had been destroyed, places where seats were torn out, and more blood than I wanted to think about.


    Then there was the stage itself, straight down and across from where I entered. The enormous stage was where That-A-Way and Raindrop were. And they weren¡¯t alone. Landlock, a short guy (just about five feet, four inches tall) who wore dark green and brown body armor with a football player¡¯s helmet over a simple black face mask, was there. He was one of the Easy Eights, like Janus outside. His power basically made a fifty-foot diameter circle of ground or floor under his feet transform to stone wherever he went. It would change back as he moved away from that spot, but while he was standing there, it would be rock. No matter what hit him, he couldn¡¯t be knocked outside of his circle, and he could make a bunch of rock constructs within it.


    The Ninety-Niner Touched he was trying to fight, meanwhile, was Suckshot. Yeah. While Landlock wore the football helmet, Suckshot was basically dressed like a hockey player, with that Touched name written on the back. His powers allowed him to create these black orb things about the size of a volleyball in front of his hands that could yank things (or people) toward them. Once they were close enough to touch the orbs, he could then launch them away at high speed. The orbs were also some kind of pocket dimension thing that he could store objects in as long as they were smaller than the orb. He kept objects in there and used them as ammo to shoot at people.


    And in the middle of all this, between those two, were That-A-Way and Raindrop. Way had both arms wrapped around her younger teammate, with her back to Landlock. Apparently her invulnerability power was active, because in the second that I watched, the Fell-Touched Made two large rocks float up out of the floor and fly at them, only for the rocks to shatter against her back.


    At the same time, Raindrop had one hand extended toward Suckshot. She was sending a torrent of water his way, a sideways downpour that would¡¯ve allowed the kid to manipulate his gravity if she could get him wet. But he was sucking up all the water with his own power, making it disappear into his orbs. It was a stalemate.


    Well, not anymore. Taking a running start, I shot blue paint down to launch myself up and forward, catapulting over the line of seats. In mid-air, I shot red paint high over the stage to pull myself that way, before sending a few more small shots of red toward the brawling thugs below. I didn¡¯t get anywhere near all of them, but I did hit a few. Mostly I tried to focus on the ones who were holding guns, nailing the weapons themselves with a bit of red before extending my hand back the way I¡¯d come to hit the door with one more shot. Linking all of those together, I activated them and the guns (as well as a couple other weapons) were yanked out of the thugs¡¯ hands.


    It wasn¡¯t much, but it was something. Mostly I was hoping that if the Touched were dealt with, the rest of the guys would follow suit quickly, or at least retreat.


    And speaking of dealing with them, I flipped over in the air after canceling the red mark I was being yanked toward. Upside down as I passed over the stage, I shot two bursts of white paint, one at each of them. Unfortunately, the paint that was going toward Suckshot was, well, sucked right into one of his little black hole orbs. Fuck. I really should¡¯ve known that would happen.


    But the other spot of paint struck home, hitting the spot of Landlock¡¯s chest right under his chin. Instantly, I activated it, sending a blinding flare right into his eyes that made the man stagger backward, the large boulder he¡¯d been forming falling apart before he could launch it.


    Activating a bit of orange near my left leg on the hip, I finished flipping over and landed a short distance away from where the two Minority were. ¡°Heard you all might need an understudy if this performance is gonna go on,¡± I blurted as everyone stopped what they were doing and snapped a glance toward me. At the same time, I hit Way with orange paint from one hand and purple from the other, before Suckshot could recover from my sudden appearance and start using his power again. Activating both, I snapped, ¡°Get ¡®em!¡±


    The direction she¡¯d been facing toward Suckshot in keeping her back to Landlock for protection had given her invulnerability. The opposite direction must have been super speed, because she pivoted away from Raindrop and, in a blur of motion, was suddenly directly in front of the man who had been launching boulders at them, punching him across the face with her enhanced strength. He had some measure of that himself, but the punch was still enough to put him on the stone-turned floor.


    For the next ten seconds, That-A-Way had the extra strength and toughness which, added to her own super speed, would let her deal with that guy.


    That left Raindrop and me to handle Suckshot. And I had the feeling that the suck part of that was going to be pretty apt. Whether it was my paint or her water, he could suck all of it up if it came anywhere near him.


    Just as I had that thought, the two of us were nearly taken out just like that as a handful of literal bricks shot out of those black orbs, straight at our heads. Fuck!


    But Raindrop was fast too. A swirl of water spraying up to catch the bricks, turning their gravity so they were launched up and over us to careen off into the distance. A metal pipe and another set of bricks joined them a second later.


    Yeah, the suck was definitely strong with this one. Good thing I had an idea. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I addressed the young girl nearby. ¡°Dude, can you soak me, then when I say now, zero my gravity?¡±


    ¡°Um, okay,¡± came the quiet, uncertain voice. It tickled something in my brain, but I didn¡¯t have time to think about it.


    Instead, I pushed myself forward even as I felt my costume suddenly get really wet. Raising my voice, I shouted at the man, ¡°Hey, Suckface, lemme guess, you¡¯re a Touched vacuum!¡±


    It definitely worked to get his attention. The man shot another metal pipe at me, but I popped the wheels of my skates out and slid under it, cocking my hand back as though I was going to throw or shoot something at him. Immediately, I felt the pull of his power as he focused it on me. I was yanked off my feet and sent that way, even as he took aim, clearly about to use me being off my feet and helplessly pulled toward him to take one final shot.


    ¡°Now!¡± I called out while simultaneously activating every bit of green and orange that was still on my costume.


    Instantly, my gravity was zero. Which meant I was suddenly flying toward the man in front of me faster than he expected. Even better, the green paint I¡¯d activated sped me up even more. In that instant, I was careening at the man several times quicker than he was ready for.


    He didn¡¯t have time to correct it. I slammed into him full-bodied, with enough force to knock him clear to the floor, his orbs disappearing as he collapsed under me with a cry of pain and surprise. I, of course, was fine thanks to the orange paint. But it didn¡¯t look like the guy under me was going to be in the mood to move anytime soon.


    Still, I produced a set of the stay-down cuffs I still had, hooking them around his wrists before rolling away.


    Sitting up, I saw That-A-Way doing the same to her guy. They were both down. We had them in hand.


    Even better, seeing their super powered members captured did, in fact, make the rest of the bad guys decide to cut and run. There was a rush toward the exits, the two rival groups still fighting each other as they fled like rats leaving a sinking ship. Meanwhile, the cowering civilians were starting to pick themselves up cautiously.


    Raindrop was in front of me, offering her hand with a blurted, ¡°That was cool!¡±


    Again, her words made something in the back of my mind flash a bit. But what¨Cnever mind, I was just crazy and tired from all that, clearly.


    Taking the offered hand, I stood and breathed out a long sigh of relief while looking at her and That-A-Way. ¡°Well,¡± I managed in between heavy panting, ¡°if you guys really want, we could stick around and see the show tonight.


    ¡°But I hear it really sucks.¡±

 New Deals 13-09

    Things mostly calmed down pretty quickly after that. The Star-Touched adults had managed to regroup a bit and sent a couple of their people to help the Minority. By that point, the warring gangs had basically separated and gone to their respective corners, so to speak. So it was just a bit of cleanup.


    The other Fell-Touched, like Janus, had managed to escape. But we kept hold of Suckshot and Landlock, eventually seeing them both hauled into the back of two separate special armored containment vans.


    Through most of that cleanup, I worked with Raindrop. I had the feeling that the people around us assumed we were about the same age. Actually, come to think of it, maybe she was an incredibly small sixteen-year-old too. Wouldn¡¯t that have been just perfect?


    Either way, she was pretty fun to hang out with once things calmed down a bit. She didn¡¯t say a lot, but the things she did say tended to be insightful or just funny in a very simple, straightforward way. I would say something and she¡¯d have a one or two word response, in a totally serious tone, that made me snicker. For whatever reason, it felt like I knew her a lot better than I did. We¡¯d only just really met, and yet I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling like we¡¯d interacted a lot more. It was weird. But then, maybe she was just one of those people who made friends easily.


    While we were doing that, I noticed some of the cops and reporters in the distance talking. I couldn¡¯t make out most of what they were saying, but I did hear both of our names come up and saw some of them pointing our way. They were clearly talking about the fact that Raindrop and I were working together, but what¡­ what were they saying? And why were some of them taking pictures?


    Eventually, That-A-Way approached and asked to speak to me privately. We stepped out of the way, over by a corner of the theater building while both of us watched the assortment of cops, reporters, and other Touched milling around.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Way murmured quietly. ¡°You know, for showing up. You really helped turn things around.¡± She glanced toward me, lowering her voice even more. ¡°I heard a few of those gang guys talking. This whole thing, it¡¯s just a skirmish. Just the opening salvo. Apparently things are going to get a lot more heavy pretty soon. They¡¯re going to war with each other.¡±


    Grimacing, I shook my head. ¡±If this was just a few opening shots, I don¡¯t want to see what their idea of a full war is.¡±


    ¡°Neither do I,¡± she agreed, ¡°but I have a feeling that we don¡¯t really have a choice. This whole thing is gonna escalate really fast. And more civilians are going to be caught in the crossfire.¡±


    There was another brief pause while she clearly thought about her next words before quietly asking, ¡°Those people you were talking about, shouldn¡¯t they keep this kind of thing shut down? Seems like having a bunch of pissed off gang members at war with each other would be bad for business. If they really have that much control over every criminal in the city, shouldn¡¯t they snap their fingers and make these guys back down? I mean, if there¡¯s going to be one benefit to a group like that, you¡¯d think it would be them stopping all-out war like this.¡±


    Yeah, she had a point. I had no idea just how much my parents knew about this situation. But I refused to believe they were clueless. From everything I had seen, there was no way the gangs here would do something like this without at least mentioning it to my family, to the Ministry. Which meant they had to have at least partially approved this sort of thing. But why? What did they get out of it? Was it just not worth the hassle of trying to contain these guys constantly? Did they have to let them get their aggression out now and then before things blew up too much to control at all? I had no idea how that worked.


    With a sigh, I shook my head. ¡°I dunno. But something tells me that if we want to find out how all this works, we need to get into that place. The sooner the better. There¡¯s got to be some answers in there.¡±


    Of course, there was also the possibility that those answers would lead toward my family. But that was a bridge I would cross when we came to it. I still had no idea exactly what I was going to do if and when Way and Pack, the people I had brought into this, found out that the Ministry was led by the Evans. I just¡­ didn¡¯t know.


    Way was looking at me again. ¡°We have to come up with a plan and get in there,¡± she murmured quietly. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re right. That¡¯s where we¡¯re going to find answers. That¡¯s where we¡¯re going to¡­¡± She trailed off, grimacing for a moment before finding her voice once more. ¡°It¡¯s where we¡¯re going to find out more about who we can¡¯t trust.¡± There was a somewhat dark grimness to her voice, and it made me think for a moment about what all of this must have been like for her. She didn¡¯t know who on her own team she could trust. She didn¡¯t know which of her mentors she could look up to. What was it like from her side? Especially considering I wasn¡¯t telling her everything I knew, a fact she was no doubt totally aware of.


    I started to agree with her, that we would get into that secret mall base as soon as possible. But before I could say more than a couple words, someone approached. It was, in no uncertain terms, the worst person I could think of to potentially overhear what we were talking about. Yeah, my dad, as Silversmith. He approached, offering each of us a nod while speaking up. ¡°It seems we owe you another debt of gratitude, Paintball.¡± His hand extended toward me. ¡°Thanks for stepping in and helping out today. Not sure how this would have gone without you.¡±


    Desperately fighting back the impulse to give any suspicious reaction whatsoever, I forced myself to accept the offered hand while shaking my head. ¡°Way asked for help. I wasn¡¯t just going to tell her to jump off a bridge.¡±


    He chuckled lightly, an encouraging sound that almost made me smile. How did he do that? How did he disarm me so easily when I knew who he was and what he did? Was it just because he was my dad? No, it had to be more than that. He was just that good at talking to people. He was just that good at convincing them that he was a friend, someone they could trust and confide in. It was scary seeing it from this side of things.


    While I was still fighting those reactions in my head, Dad put his hand on That-A-Way¡¯s shoulder, squeezing slightly. ¡°We owe just as much congratulations and thanks to you. Knowing when to call for help is important. Not trying to go at it alone, not showboating and getting people killed in the process, that¡¯s what makes for a real hero. You did great today. All of you did.¡±


    ¡°People still got hurt,¡± Way quietly pointed out. ¡°Some still died. We didn¡¯t save everyone.¡±


    Dad gave a short nod of agreement, as a long, heavy sigh escaped him. It sounded like he bore  the weight of each and every one of those injuries and deaths on his shoulders. Which was funny (in a totally not funny at all way), because I was pretty sure he really did bear the weight of them. He let it happen. He let this war get started. The Ministry allowed it. So yeah, the weight of it should have been on his shoulders. But he was still standing, and I was going to bet somehow getting even richer off of this whole thing. Yeah, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure how, but the only thing I could think of that would make the Ministry allow something like this was if they were somehow making more money from it than if they hadn¡¯t. Money or power, one or the other. Or both. I wasn¡¯t sure of the specifics, not yet. But I did know that my father and mother had given the go-ahead for all of this to happen. They allowed it, so they were responsible.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Dad spoke up. For a crazy, horrifying second, I thought he had somehow read my thoughts. Then I realized he was responding to the girl beside me. ¡°We didn¡¯t save everyone. But you can¡¯t always. All you can do is try. Put the effort in. Save everyone you can. Because, and I want both of you to listen to this right now, it isn¡¯t about how many you fail to save. It¡¯s about how many would have died if you weren¡¯t there at all. And believe me, there would have been a lot more people hurt or even dead today if the two of you weren¡¯t here. All those people in that theater, you saved them. You and Raindrop.¡±


    He said the last bit while stepping aside a bit and gesturing for the girl in question to join us. Which she did, moving up between Way and me while staring at my dad, at Silversmith. I couldn¡¯t see her face, of course, hidden as it was behind that faceplate. But from the way she held her head, her body language, and everything else, I had the distinct impression that she basically hero-worshiped him. I had no idea what was going on there, but it was pretty obvious that she really looked up to him. Again, not surprising, considering how well my dad played the role of champion for the masses. He should have won an Oscar or two by now. Still, it made me feel sick in my stomach. Actually, the thought that he was fooling Raindrop in particular seemed to raise my hackles more than it really should have. I barely knew the kid. Maybe it was just because she was a kid? Maybe it reminded me of how much I had looked up to Silversmith before I knew the truth.


    Either way, Dad held his arm out, pantomiming looking at a watch. ¡°Unfortunately, no matter how impressive you guys are, I have a feeling none of you can quite stop time just yet. And since everything seems calm enough now, I should get going. There¡¯s going to be a lot of paperwork about all this. Be glad you guys only have to deal with a bit of that. And hey, you even get to avoid most of the reporters.¡±


    Reporters¡­ Oh damn, right, that dinner with the guy from the Times. It was getting close. No wonder Dad was making his excuses to leave. He congratulated us again, then offered to walk That-A-Way and Raindrop back to their base with the rest of their team. Way declined, saying she¡¯d catch up after talking to me for a minute, claiming she still had to thank me herself.


    So, Raindrop headed off with him by herself. And I tried to figure out why the sight of her walking with my evil dad made me want to throw myself after them to stop it. Well, besides the obvious reasons. There was something else making it hit me more than I thought it should have.


    ¡°It pisses you off too, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Way spoke quietly with a glance toward me. ¡°Seeing the way everyone loves him. Especially Rain.¡± She sighed, turning my way fully, as though to put her back to that whole thing. ¡°I know you said you can¡¯t say everything you know, but you made it pretty clear that he¡¯s one of the ones that can¡¯t be trusted. You said especially don¡¯t tell him anything. So yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s one of your big conspiracy people. But he¡¯s such¡­ I mean¡­¡± She exhaled, slumping over a bit. ¡°Fuck.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, ¡°fuck. Trust me, I know. It¡¯s a whole thing. But you¡¯re doing a good job of hiding it.¡±


    She snorted at that. ¡°You just couldn¡¯t hear all the nasty thoughts I was having when he was here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and neither could he,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Look, we¡¯ll get answers, okay? We just can¡¯t rush it. They already know that I know some of what they¡¯re up to. They just don¡¯t know how much. Not even close. But they know that I know some of it. So we have to be careful.¡±


    Way paused, then chuckled. ¡°You know, the way you act about all this, sometimes I forget you¡¯re younger than me. You seem a lot older than you should be.¡±


    Shit, getting her off the train of thought was probably a good idea. But I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what to say. So, I just shrugged. ¡±I¡¯ve had to grow up quick lately. But if I don¡¯t get out of here now, I¡¯m going to end up grounded. Then we¡¯ll see how grown up I am.¡±


    With that, I excused myself and took off, using a shot of red paint to a nearby building to hoist myself out of there. Right, I hadn¡¯t really been exaggerating that much. If I missed this dinner, Mom would never let me hear the end of it. She¡¯d made it clear that it was important that we present ourselves as a family tonight. Which gave me a lot of other thoughts I felt like saying, but kept to myself for obvious reasons.


    As I raced home, I did my best to push those thoughts out of my head. This guy was an award-winning investigative reporter. It would probably be a bad thing if I gave him a reason to be suspicious of my family. For him as well as us. He may have been a big shot, but I was pretty sure my parents wouldn¡¯t hesitate to have him killed if it came down to protecting themselves and the family. And I was also willing to bet that my family¡¯s resources trumped whatever he could come up with.


    It had, of course, occurred to me to try talking to the guy about everything. I had the random, crazy impulse to just spill my guts to him and have everything out in the open. He was a reporter, after all. But again, that would be stupid. He¡¯d never be able to publish an article like that, not with the contacts my parents had. The only real option to get it out before they erased it would have been some kind of online thing, but that would probably be dismissed as a conspiracy theory. Even if I was involved, I¡¯d just be the rebellious kid. There was no doubt in my mind that my family could quash the whole thing. Hell, it wasn¡¯t as though it would be anything all that new. People claimed enormous criminal conspiracies against the rich and famous all the time. A lot of it was even true. And this was one of those times. But it would be dismissed like all those others. No, if¡­ when I went public about all this, it had to be perfect. I would only get a single shot at that kind of thing. I would only be able to take my family by surprise once. It was going to have to be a silver bullet situation. Proof. I needed proof of everything, and I needed to understand exactly how the organization worked, who was a part of it, who could be trusted and who couldn¡¯t. I needed all of it.


    Of course, the other big reason for not telling this Chambers guy the truth? For all I knew, he was on my family¡¯s payroll. Yeah, he was all the way down in LA, but did that really mean anything? After all, Mr. Jackson had been in the UK for a long time. And it really would be within my family¡¯s interest to have one of the best investigative reporters from one of the biggest news outlets on their side.


    No, clearly for a lot of reasons, I couldn¡¯t open up now. Not to anybody, let alone a reporter who may or may not be working for my parents on the down low.


    Shoving those thoughts out of my head firmly, I focused on getting home. That meant changing clothes in a public restroom at the edge of a park and taking an Uber the rest of the way. I was cutting it fairly close, considering I still needed to shower and all. But at least I wasn¡¯t late.


    Paying the driver after he stopped in front of the gate, I hopped out, grabbed my bag, and headed in. On the way past, I greeted the guard waiting there, who teasingly informed me that I¡¯d better hurry.


    Mom and Dad were in the front foyer as I passed through the door. Mom stepped over, looking like she was going to embrace me, but thought better of it. She was already dressed up for dinner and wrinkled her nose a little at how sweaty I was. So sue me, running across the city was a bit of a work out, even with powers.


    She settled on gently touching the side of my face. ¡°I¡¯m glad you made it, Principessa. Thank you for remembering. Now please, go and get cleaned up. We will be eating in thirty minutes.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, kid,¡± Dad spoke up, ¡°and see if you can help Izzy with whatever she needs? She should just be about done getting cleaned up herself. The clothes she helped pick out are on her bed.¡±


    God, he really had no idea that I had just been talking to him a short time earlier. Hell, he didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d been out doing anything at all. I was sweaty and all that from rushing home. My hair was a mess from being under the helmet and mask.  But Dad? He was perfectly put together. Not a single hair was out of place and it looked as though the biggest workout he¡¯d had in the past couple hours was pushing a few papers.


    Shoving that thought aside, I promised that Izzy and I would be right down. Then I headed up the stairs two steps at a time. Yeah, I¡¯d go get cleaned up so we could get this whole thing over with.


    Time to meet Lincoln Chambers and his family.

 New Deals 13-10

    Izzy needed help getting ready. She was nervous about going to dinner with this reporter guy, obviously afraid that she was going to say or do something to embarrass my parents. I tried to reassure her while helping the girl get dressed and put her hair up, but I wasn¡¯t sure how much good it did. That probably wasn¡¯t helped by the fact that the poor kid seemed pretty tired. She kept yawning while we were getting our hair taken care of in the bathroom. Watching her open mouth in the mirror for the third time, I gently asked, ¡°Are you still having nightmares?¡±


    Immediately, the poor kid flinched, mouth snapping shut as she looked down at the sink before shaking her head. ¡°Not as much,¡± she murmured quietly. ¡°It¡¯s getting better.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, either way,¡± I hurriedly assured her. ¡°I just mean, you know, if you need umm¡­ anything.¡± This was really awkward and I finally shrugged helplessly. ¡°Whatever I can do.¡±


    What I really wanted to do, of course, was tell her that she should talk to me about what was actually going on, what had happened to traumatize her, why my parents were putting her up, what¡­ all of it. I wanted to know what her whole deal was, if I was right about at least one of her parents being a supervillain or what. I was really leaning heavily on that assumption, but I couldn¡¯t be positive. Not without more information, but I was pretty sure pushing her would backfire.


    So, instead, I just helped her get ready and the two of us started out. On the way to the stairs, Izzy glanced at me. ¡°Have you ever met these people? Your mom is, um, really intense about making a good impression.¡± Clearly afraid she had said something wrong, the girl quickly amended, ¡°I mean, she didn¡¯t do anything bad, or¨Cor say anything, it was just¨Cshe¡¯s umm¡­¡±


    ¡°Intense, yeah.¡± Giving the poor kid a small smile (while inwardly lamenting that we were basically the same size) I assured her, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I get it. She gets it too. And no, we haven¡¯t met this reporter guy, or his family. Mom just always gets really into these kinds of dinner plans, especially when it¡¯s someone who could hurt the family name, like¡­ well, like a fancy reporter.¡±


    Silently, I thought again about what kind of impression I could make on this guy if I wanted to make that kind of insane, family-ending leap. But how stupid would that be? If this guy was on my parents¡¯ payroll, he wouldn¡¯t do anything useful or helpful at all. And if he wasn¡¯t, they¡¯d kill him, and probably his family too, before they could even get up from the table. Either way, I wouldn¡¯t accomplish anything at all other than blowing the fact that I knew the truth. Which would put both Izzy and me in danger. I didn¡¯t believe for a second that I could take my dad in a fight if it came right down to it. Either physically or emotionally, come to think of it. I had no idea what would happen, but it would be bad. Nothing good could possibly come from taking that leap right now.


    Mentally pushing that aside, I reached out to touch the other girl lightly on the arm. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. Trust me, we just have to play nice through dinner, be polite and all that. Then, after dessert, Mom will excuse us so they can talk business. We¡¯ll probably have to entertain their kids, and I¡¯m not sure how old they are. Either way, it¡¯s bound to be more exciting than listening to the adults blab on and on, you know?¡±


    And boy, what I wouldn¡¯t give to go back to a time when I actually believed that, when I really didn¡¯t want to know everything my parents were talking about. Well, no. Even as I had that thought, I realized it was wrong. I didn¡¯t actually want to go back to a time when I was completely clueless. I¡¯d like to slide into a time when it was the truth, if that had been an actual option. But I did not want to be ignorant about what my family was really up to. I wanted my parents to stop being supervillains, yet I didn¡¯t want to forget that they actually were. Complicated as this entire situation was, I would always choose to know the truth and move on from that, not erase my memories.


    The truth was a painful thing to stand on, but lies crumbled under your feet.


    Simon was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, all dressed up as well. He grinned at the two of us as we descended. ¡°Well, well, someone looks all fancy and nice now. Oh, and I guess you¡¯ll do in a pinch too, Booster.¡± He reached out to poke me in the forehead, laughing as I swatted his hand away before turning. ¡°Come on, they got here a little early, so everyone¡¯s in the dining room already.¡± Glancing over his shoulder, he teased, ¡°Guess it was my job to make sure you didn¡¯t go skateboarding into the room or something equally likely to make Mom¡¯s head explode.¡±


    Scoffing at him, I retorted, ¡°As if that¡¯s the only way I could be embarrassing at this dinner. Please, give me a second and I¡¯ll come up with something really good.¡± It was nothing but light banter, the kind my brother and I would have had at any time. But it brought a hard lump to my throat and a deep knot to my stomach. It hurt. It hurt because I could tease back and forth with him like this while knowing what he was really capable of, what he had really done. Hell, I didn¡¯t even actually know all the things he had done, not for certain. I just knew some of what he was capable of. Even that was enough to make a shudder run through me at the thought.


    Simon didn¡¯t notice, of course. By that point we had reached the doors to the dining room, and he stepped up, pulled the door open, and grandly gestured for the two of us to enter. ¡°Presenting the princesses of the kingdom!¡± he announced in a loud voice, ¡°Miss Izzy and Miss Cassidy.¡±


    Rolling my eyes at him, I gently took the other girl¡¯s hand and stepped through into the dining room. We were still using the smaller one, with the table that sat ten (rather than the full-sized room suitable for thirty people), but for once we would actually be using the whole thing. Almost, anyway. There were supposed to be nine of us, between both my parents, Simon, Izzy, Lincoln Chambers, his wife, their twins, and me.


    Immediately after stepping into the room, I saw Mom and Dad sitting at their usual spots, with Dad at the end chair and Mom to his right. Simon¡¯s chair was next to Dad, while mine was next to Mom. Izzy would sit next to me.


    But this time, of course, there were other people here. The first of whom drew my attention immediately. It looked like an old mountain man or lumberjack had wandered into our house. Seriously, he was a huge guy, taller than Dad, with long hair and a very thick beard. It looked like he should be galavanting around with a big blue ox or something. Was this the reporter?


    Apparently so, because the man turned to us and smiled. Any intimidation I might have felt at his initial appearance disappeared as I saw how gentle his eyes were. I didn¡¯t know how else to explain it other than he looked kind and intelligent. Wow, no wonder he was such a good reporter. He was big enough to intimidate the people he needed to, and yet somehow immediately made me feel like I could trust him with that single look.


    I couldn¡¯t, of course, for all the reasons I¡¯d already thought of. But still, that was really effective. If he really was on my parents¡¯ payroll, they¡¯d done an excellent job when they recruited him.


    Dad was already standing up. ¡°Ah, Lincoln, this is my daughter, Cassidy. And this is the girl I told you about, Izzy Amor. Girls, this is Lincoln Chambers, and his wife, Joselyn.¡±


    My eyes moved then, finally looking away from the enormous figure to see the smaller woman seated next to him. She was blonde, with her hair cut short, and a slim yet athletic build. Her eyes seemed to evaluate me quickly, looking me up and down as though assessing¡­ something, before she smiled. Just like her husband, it looked incredibly genuine and inviting.


    ¡°Hello, Cassidy, Izzy,¡± Mrs. Chambers greeted us, rising immediately to extend her hand. ¡°It¡¯s nice to finally meet you. I feel as though half of my husband¡¯s articles about your father have been little details about his son and daughter.¡± To Izzy, she added, ¡°And then we end up visiting at the perfect time to meet you too.¡±


    The two of us shook her hand, then her husband¡¯s, before the latter gestured. ¡°And, lest we forget about our own kids long enough for them to make a break for the nearest pizza place¡­¡±


    My attention was drawn to the twins. A boy and a girl. They looked to be between Izzy and me in age, maybe fourteen or so. The boy had blond hair like his mother, though it was kind of spiked up with what had to be a lot of gel. His sister¡¯s hair was more like their father¡¯s, dark and full, falling a little past her shoulders.


    ¡°Cassidy, Izzy,¡± Mrs. Chambers announced, ¡°this is Zed and Lexi. Kids, come say hi.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    What followed, of course, was the always awkward forced meeting between teenagers in front of their parents. It was obvious that none of us really knew what to say, but I tried to push past that by telling them we could go check out the game room once dinner was over. That usually did the trick as far as breaking the ice went. This time was no different, though it was Lexi who seemed more interested in the games. Zed, on the other hand, asked about the full-sized basketball court he¡¯d heard about. Which Simon took great joy in confirming the existence of and promised to take him to check out while ¡®the girls played with the kid games.¡¯


    Leaning closer to Lexi, I stage-whispered, ¡°He¡¯s just jealous because he can¡¯t beat Izzy or me in any of those ¡®kid games¡¯ no matter how much he tries.¡±


    ¡°And you can¡¯t beat Izzy yourself,¡± Simon shot back pointedly.


    We bantered a little bit more, before sitting down to have dinner. Lexi, who was seated across from Izzy, started asking both of us if we¡¯d ever played the competitive mode of one of those online first-person shooter/survival games. We hadn¡¯t, but apparently she was really into it. She went on for a little bit about how she really wanted to join this tournament but they only allowed people who were at least sixteen. Apparently, she was afraid that the game would be out of style by that point. But she was still practicing all the time. Aaaalll the time, according to her mother¡¯s teasing interjection.


    So yeah, between us talking about games, Simon and Zed having their whole sports discussion, and our parents talking back and forth from one end of the table to the other about other things, the dinner actually went pretty quickly. It was delicious, of course. My parents wouldn¡¯t have stood for anything less in this kind of situation. But even disregarding that, Chef Claudio, Ethan, and Christiana had outdone themselves. They¡¯d really pulled out all the stops, making me wonder just how much Mom and Dad had impressed on them how important this dinner was.


    Either way, we had dessert and then our parents dismissed us for the time being. They needed to talk about their own things. Simon took Zed off to check out all the gym stuff, while Izzy and I headed upstairs to play some games with Lexi.


    The girl wasn¡¯t exactly exaggerating about training to join a professional e-sports team. She really was that good. I couldn¡¯t touch her if my life had depended on it. Izzy had more luck, but even she only managed to win one out of every three games or so.


    Eventually, I told the other two that I was going to step out for some air for a minute, and that I¡¯d bring back some drinks. I left them in the middle of their latest, even more intense match and headed into the hall. Being around my family like this, seeing the Chambers and having no idea if they were actually this nice and just being used by my family, or if they were secretly part of this whole thing¡­ it was too much. I had to step outside, had to clear my head.


    In this case, going outside just meant walking to the end of the hallway and stepping out onto one of the many balconies overlooking the grounds. Letting the cooler evening air wash over me, I put my hands on the railing and leaned over to glance down before exhaling long and hard. So many thoughts, worries, and questions were running through my head, and I didn¡¯t have a real answer for any of them. Honestly, what I wanted to do in that moment was fall into my bed and sleep for a good long while. Maybe a month or so. Not that it would help, though. I¡¯d still have the same problems to deal with whenever I finally woke up. Closing my eyes and waiting, astonishingly, wasn¡¯t going to make everything better.


    Hearing someone behind me, I turned to see Mr. Chambers stepping up to the sliding door. He offered me a smile, tapping the side of the door as though knocking. ¡°Hey, mind if I join you for a minute? Your dad took a phone call and the women are busy.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uhh, no, go ahead, sir.¡± Stepping back to give him room to step out onto the balcony, I asked, ¡°How¡¯s your trip so far? Getting any good stories?¡±


    ¡°Working on it,¡± was his casual response, before the man put his own hands on the railing with an added, ¡°Very nice place your family has here. You¡¯re probably too young to really remember, but Detroit¡­ it used to be a lot worse.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve¡­ you¡¯re right,¡± I confirmed, ¡°I¡¯m too young, I never knew that Detroit. But we¡¯ve learned about it in class, and some older people talk about what the city used to be like.¡±


    That earned me a raised eyebrow from the man, as he turned slightly. ¡°You listen to older people? What kind of kid are you?¡±


    Flushing a little at that, I shrugged. ¡°The kind who likes getting better than failing grades in history class and who doesn¡¯t want my mom to throw a shoe at me for ignoring people.¡±


    Mr. Chambers chuckled, though it was almost more of a groan. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that hard times Detroit is something you learn about in History. It makes me feel old, and that¡¯s not fair. My own kids do that to me enough as it is.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I found myself teasing, ¡°it was totally in current events class.¡±


    ¡°Better.¡± With a small smile, the man looked at me a bit more seriously. ¡°Your dad tells me you¡¯re really into a lot of this extreme sport stuff.¡± When I nodded, he grimaced. ¡°See, I¡¯m safe with Lexi. The most dangerous thing she¡¯s aiming toward is carpal tunnel. But I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if Zed was into that stuff instead of his precious basketball.¡± He winked at me, adding, ¡°Guess that means you¡¯ve got a pretty cool dad.¡±


    A lot of thoughts running through my head at that point. But I pushed them all down, with some effort, and simply offered the man a small smile that I hoped looked genuine enough. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, he gets a little crazy at some of the risks I take too.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Are you the one that¡¯s the bad influence around here?¡± Mr. Chambers teased before adding, ¡°Believe me, I don¡¯t need the kids adding more gray hairs to my head. Their mother does that plenty enough on her own working for the LAPD.¡±


    That made me do a quick double take, looking at the man suddenly. ¡°Your wife¡¯s a cop?¡±


    ¡°Why,¡± Mr. Chambers retorted, ¡°you got active warrants?¡± He grinned at that before watching me, squinting very slightly. ¡°You okay?¡±


    Now I had even more thoughts running through my head. If his wife was a cop, did that make it more or less likely that they were working for my parents? Or that one of them was. Could she be working for them without him knowing? Or the other way around? What did it mean?


    Somehow, I forced all of that down and focused on shrugging at the man. ¡°Sure, I was just wondering how you could worry about one of your kids getting into extreme sports when your wife has a job like that. Seems like you¡¯d be inoculated against it.¡±


    There was a very brief pause where I felt like the man was examining me more thoroughly. Then he seemed to shake away whatever he¡¯d been thinking and chuckled. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯d think so. Guess I¡¯m just a worrywart.¡±


    ¡°Well, while you¡¯re warting,¡± I very hesitantly asked, ¡°do you ever worry about something happening to your kids because of what you and your wife do? I mean, with all the criminals you piss off.¡±


    That, obviously, made the man give a doubletake. ¡°Well, damn, Miss Evans,¡± he managed, ¡°you don¡¯t go for the easy, weather and traffic-type questions, do you?¡±


    Blanching a bit, I shook my head. ¡°Sorry. You don¡¯t have to answer. It¡¯s just¡­ my parents don¡¯t do anything dangerous like that and even I get worried about them, like when they go on long trips. It sounds like you and your wife do some dangerous things.¡±


    For a moment, Mr. Chambers just looked at me. It seemed like he was sorting through his thoughts and also trying to decide just how real to be. Finally, the man exhaled. ¡°Believe me, we take precautions. But when it comes down to it, we help people. People who wouldn¡¯t have that help. We look at our kids and yeah, it scares us to think about something happening to them. But it also makes us think about all the other kids out there who don¡¯t have someone looking out for them, and all the parents who can¡¯t. We¡¯re lucky. A lot of people aren¡¯t. Every time I worry about what might happen to my children or wife, it reminds me of all the stuff that has happened to other children and wives. Stuff that won¡¯t get dragged into the light if someone doesn¡¯t do the dragging.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± That was Joselyn Chambers, his wife. She stood in the doorway to the balcony, offering me a small, yet genuine smile. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to eavesdrop. I was just looking to see where my husband wandered off to.¡± Focusing on me after reaching up to affectionately rub the man¡¯s shoulder, she added, ¡°We do worry about our children, just as yours do when they have to leave you to go on their business trips. Or even just when they send you off to school in the morning. Watching you walk out there while they know the kind of things that can happen, even with all their money and protection¡­ I promise, it¡¯s one of the hardest things in the world. And seeking out so many of those terrible things, seeing them with our own eyes? It¡¯s terrifying. But we can¡¯t leave it alone. Because leaving it alone wouldn¡¯t make it better. When you see that someone is in danger, turning your back and walking away doesn¡¯t solve anything. Turning off the light so you don¡¯t have to watch only gives evil the ability to work in the dark. I didn¡¯t become a cop to put my family in danger. I did it because that danger exists, regardless of what or where I am. It¡¯ll always be there, lurking in the shadows. So you take away the shadows. You turn on the lights. You expose the evil. You face it. And you deal with it.¡±


    A long, silent moment passed then, before Mr. Chambers coughed. ¡°Little heavy for the sixteen-year-old, babe.¡±


    Blinking twice, with a look that made it seem as though she had forgotten just who she was talking to, Mrs. Chambers gave a short nod. ¡°Ah, sorry. Got lost in my own head there.¡± Offering me a slightly self-conscious smile, she amended, ¡°The point is, we¡¯re working to make the world better for our kids. Just like yours are.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I murmured while turning to look away, staring up at the sky while her words about exposing evil rang through my head. ¡°Not just like¡­¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°My dad¡¯s not a reporter. And my mom is definitely not a cop.¡±


    The three of us stayed out there for another minute or two, just watching the grounds. Then Dad came to find them so they could finish their conversation, and I headed down to get the drinks I had promised the others.


    Before long, this whole thing would be over and I would take a little nap before heading out to meet Murphy and Roald so I could tell them about working for Wren.


    Wait, did that technically make them minions? Was¡­ was I press-ganging a couple desperate teenagers into being my minions?


    I might be a worse hero than I thought.

 New Deals 13-11

    Taking a nap helped. I was getting pretty good at splitting my sleep and having a few hours in the afternoon or evening sometime, going out late at night, and then getting a few more hours before getting up for school. Was that what all the Touched did? For that matter, how did my dad pull off being so busy all the time? Yeah, he didn¡¯t exactly have a nine to five job or anything. But he still had tons of meetings to attend and had to put in random appearances as his civilian self and as Silversmith. Was all of that explained just by him having another employee use one of those illusion machines or whatever it was to pose as him in public? That couldn¡¯t always be it. He had to actually play both roles himself a good chunk of the time.


    Yeah, even with that explanation, I was pretty sure my dad only slept a few hours a night. Especially when you added in him being present in my life to be a father and just the general family stuff. He was like a machine. Was that just from having a lot of practice or something?


    Either way, I was back out in the city after checking on Izzy. This time, I left a note on my pillow for her saying I needed air and that I would be back, along with a reminder that she could text or call me if she needed something.


    It was getting close to midnight by the time I made my way near the gas station where this whole thing with my new delinquent friends had started. That was when I told them to meet me, so I put myself at the edge of one of the buildings, painted myself black to blend in, and watched carefully for them to show up.


    I actually had to wait longer than expected. It wasn¡¯t until almost ten minutes after midnight before something drew my attention toward the edge of the building I had told them to meet me behind. Two teenagers, sans masks, came jogging around the corner. They were clearly out of breath and sweating.


    The girl, obviously Murphy, had brown hair that was cut very short, with skin that was just dark enough to make me figure one of her parents was black and the other white. There was also something weird about her face, but I couldn¡¯t tell what from the roof.


    Wow, ¡®something weird about her face.¡¯ When I put it like that, it sounded bad. But seriously, she had like a tattoo or something. I couldn¡¯t see that well even with the nearby street light.


    Roald, meanwhile, was a pale boy with very light blond hair. He was trying to say something to his friend, gesturing to some kind of small bag or something he was holding.


    Murphy, however, waved him off before turning in a quick circle and she raised her voice to call, ¡°Hey, we¡¯re here! Don¡¯t be a fucking dick about punctuation, we made it!¡±


    Yup, it was definitely them. Shaking my head, I used a bit of orange for protection before stepping off the edge of the roof and dropping those couple stories. I landed neatly right to the side of them, and both jumped in obvious surprise. ¡°Punctuality. No masks tonight?¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Murphy blurted while raising her hands defensively before she saw who it was. ¡°Like you said, it¡¯s not like it¡¯ll be hard for you to figure out what ¡®Murphy and Roald¡¯ looked like. And did you really have to scare the shit out of us like that?¡± she demanded.


    But her words weren¡¯t what I was paying attention to. Instead, my gaze was on her face. Now I could see what I thought was a tattoo. It wasn¡¯t. She had a cut on her face, just to the side of her left eye and stretching up into her hairline. And not just a little scrape either. This was big. It had been leaking a decent amount of blood down onto her cheek, blood that had partly dried into the mark I¡¯d seen. The cut itself was partly covered by a couple small bandaids, but they clearly weren¡¯t all that adequate. Especially since they didn¡¯t actually cover the whole thing.


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± I found myself blurting. ¡°What happened to you?¡±


    It was Roald who answered. ¡°Tyson.¡± He stepped over, and I finally saw that the thing he¡¯d been trying to get the girl to pay attention to was a first aid kit. ¡°Her brother.¡±


    ¡°Never mind that,¡± the girl herself snapped while trying to wave him off. ¡°The point is, we¡¯re here. So don¡¯t go knocking on doors looking for us or anything. That¡¯s kind of the last fucking thing we need right now.¡±


    Opening and then shutting my mouth, I took a second to put my thoughts together before looking at the boy. ¡°You got cleaning wipes in that kit?¡± When he nodded, I held my hand out and he passed a couple to me. ¡°Hold still,¡± I told the girl before carefully reaching up to wash some of the blood from her face. She grimaced and muttered complaints, but didn¡¯t move.


    Once that was done, I looked around before pointing. ¡°Come on, over there.¡± I was gesturing toward the park across the street where I knew there were a couple public restrooms.


    The other two seemed uncertain and confused, but followed as I led them that way. Once we were in the restroom, I told her to stand in front of the mirror so she could see herself. Then I stripped my gloves off, set them aside, and scrubbed my hands really well with soap.


    ¡°What¡¯re you, a doctor now?¡± Murphy demanded. But she didn¡¯t really object. From the faces she was making, I was pretty sure that cut hurt.


    ¡°No, but I can help a bit before we see a real doctor,¡± I replied. ¡°Hold still, again.¡± With that, I carefully wiped more of the blood away before very gingerly taking the almost useless bandaids away. They basically slid right off, so soaked through with blood were they.


    From there, I had the girl lean over the sink so I could wash the wound. That prompted more hissing and cursing, but I promised it would be okay and tried my best to be gentle. Carefully, I cleaned it, then took a cloth from that little first aid kit, applied a little antiseptic, and told her to hold it against the cut.


    It probably wasn¡¯t exactly right. I¡¯d had first aid training a while back, and I¡¯d had plenty of cuts treated myself. But it was the best I could do right now.


    That done, I took out my business phone and texted Pack, asking if she could give me the current address of the criminal doctor who had treated Eits. I added that it was for a friend, who probably needed stitches.


    By the time I finished sending that message, both Murphy and Roald were staring at me, the former still holding the cloth against the cut.


    ¡°The hell¡¯s your deal?¡± she blurted. ¡°I thought you wanted us to come show up and do some work for you.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°And I¡¯d prefer you not pass out or die from blood loss or an infection or something in the process. Now¡ª hang on.¡± I had to interrupt myself, because the response from Pack came. She included a phone number and told me to call it. Apparently the number was to some kind of roaming ambulance that served Touched, including Fells, in the field. It would work for these purposes. There was an added bit about how she wanted to hear more about this injured friend later.


    Calling that number, I told the gruff voice who answered what the problem was and told him where we were. There was a brief pause before the same gruff voice said they¡¯d be in the parking lot in a few minutes and to watch for a red van.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Once that was done, I focused on the other two once more. ¡°Okay, seriously. What the hell happened? How did you get a cut like that? It was from your brother?¡±


    From the glare that the girl shot toward her friend, I had the feeling that she hadn¡¯t wanted him to say that much. Her voice was a mumble. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. He was just ticked off because I wouldn¡¯t take a package for him. Told him I was busy.¡±


    ¡°Drugs.¡± That was Roald. ¡°He knew we were going out, so he wanted her to carry some drugs to his friend a few streets over.¡±


    Murphy snarled, ¡°Yeah, if by friend you mean fellow meth-head. I told him before, I¡¯m not touching any of that shit, not even to take it somewhere. Usually he lets it go.¡± With a small wince, she adjusted the cloth against her head. ¡°Guess he was in a bad mood tonight.¡±


    That made me stare at her for a few seconds. ¡°Your big brother wanted you to take some meth to his friend and when you said no he cut you like that?¡± Fuck, my brother worked for a literal supervillain conspiracy and he treated me better than that.


    Murphy waved that off. ¡°Look, you don¡¯t have to worry about any of that shit. That¡¯s my problem. Who the hell did you call?¡±


    Not wanting to push her too hard, I simply explained that it was a special ambulance with paramedics who would give her some stitches right here without needing to go to the hospital or anything. She wouldn¡¯t have to talk to anyone about where the cut came from, even if I personally thought she should.


    It didn¡¯t exactly help to calm her down, though. Instead, she blurted, ¡°Are you fucking kidding me? What part of us stealing food from a gas station makes you think we can afford some motherfucking stitches? Who do you think we are, the goddamn Evans family?!¡±


    Uhhhh¡­ better not answer that. Raising both hands, I shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ve got this. You guys are going to do some work for me, right? So I need you in good shape. Just chill out, okay? Relax. Let the paramedic look at that cut and see what you actually need.¡±


    Murphy looked reluctant, but mumbled something I took as both agreement and gratitude. Then she squinted at me. ¡°You can¡¯t go after my brother. It¡¯s not his fault. His stupid ass piece of shit friend got him hooked on the garbage and he can¡¯t control himself. He gets crazy.¡±


    For a moment, I didn¡¯t say anything. Then I quietly asked, ¡°Is the fact that he can¡¯t control himself going to make it better the next time he decides to carve up your face? What if he decides to cut something more vital? What if he cuts somebody else, or worse, and all three of us have to live with knowing we could have stopped him before it got that far? Saying he can¡¯t control himself isn¡¯t a reason for why you shouldn¡¯t turn him in. It¡¯s a reason for why you absolutely should. Not because you don¡¯t care about him. Because you do.¡±


    ¡°Kid¡¯s got a point, Murph,¡± Roald noted hesitantly. ¡°Ty¡¯s not gonna get off that shit all on his own.¡±


    Murphy scowled. ¡°Yeah? So we turn them in and then what? They throw him in prison with a bunch of other druggies and hardened fuck-ups, he gets hooked even more, then he gets out and can¡¯t get a job, so he does more bad shit, gets thrown back in prison again, and the merry-go-round of eternal bullshit continues forever until he¡¯s dead. Did you or the kid ever think of that?¡±


    I tried to smother my annoyance at being called kid by people about my same age with the satisfaction that my disguise was working. My mouth opened to say something, though what, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure. Either way, I was saved from having to by headlights. As promised, a large red camper van was pulling in.


    The medic guys were dressed more like janitors. I wasn¡¯t sure what kind of medical expertise they actually had, but they did seem to know what they were doing. They looked at the cut on Murphy¡®s face, cleaned and sanitized it a bit more professionally, and gave her a few stitches.


    I¡¯d heard from some people about how getting stitches used to involve needles and stuff. I supposed that¡¯s where the term came from. Nowadays, it simply involved pressing what looked like a white cloth firmly against the wound for several seconds and then peeling it away to reveal that the wound had been closed with a special, temporary sealant. Judging from the faces and sounds coming from Murphy, it still managed to sting as much as it had the last time I had gone through it. Still, it was quick and easy.


    ¡°How much do we owe you?¡± I asked once it was done.


    The man who had done most of the work and examination, a thin Latino, offered a shrug. ¡°Whatever you think is fair. We survive off donations. Just keep in mind, stiffing us is a good way to make us not show up when you ask for it. And if we don¡¯t make enough to keep going, this whole service disappears.¡±


    I still didn¡¯t want to draw too much attention, so I simply gave the man a couple hundred dollars while thanking him again. They both informed Murphy that the sealant would go away by itself in about a week, and that her cut should be better by then with barely a scar.


    Then they took off for another call they received, leaving the three of us standing there at the edge of the lot next to the park.


    ¡°Just think a little bit about what I said, okay?¡± I asked while looking at the girl once the medics were gone. ¡°I won¡¯t push again right now, but seriously. Think about it.¡±


    With a bit of obvious reluctance, she promised to do so before changing the subject by asking, ¡°So what¡¯s the job we¡¯re supposed to do for you, Mr. Superhero?¡±


    Over the next few minutes, I told them about Wren. I explained that she was a Tech-Touched who needed more hands in her shop to help with everything, from putting basic equipment together, to carrying boxes around, to cleaning up, to just helping to run the shop in general.


    ¡°That sounds like a job, not like¡­ charity or whatever,¡± Roald pointed out.


    I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s because it is basically a job. And it¡¯s one you¡¯ll keep if you don¡¯t screw around. You help get the shop off the ground and you¡¯ll be paid. Part of your payment for working is going to go to helping other people who need it, until you work off a full thousand dollars. That¡¯s the two hundred I gave you before, plus five hundred for the door that I gave to the shop owner, rounded up.¡±


    Murphy was staring at me intently. ¡°Dude, you want us to work off a thousand bucks?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Like I said, it won¡¯t all be taken at once. You¡¯ll still be paid, it¡¯ll just be part of your wages. You work in the shop, do everything you¡¯re told, and you¡¯ll be paid. Part of that payment will be taken and sent to other people who need it, to charity. Then once you¡¯re done, you can either quit, or you can stick around and keep working. If you stick around and keep working, you¡¯ll start being paid the full amount. As long as you help out and make yourselves useful, you can keep doing the job and keep being paid.¡±


    Roald was shaking his head in confusion. ¡°The only thing you know about us is that we tried to rob a gas station for snack food. Why would you try to hire us to work for some super techy place?¡±


    For a moment, I didn¡¯t answer. I just considered him in silence before slowly replying, ¡°Because I think there are a lot of people who do bad things just because they don¡¯t have any other choice. Not all of them, obviously. There¡¯s a lot of awful people who do it for fun, just because they can. But there¡¯s others who start small, like you guys with the gas station, and then get worse. They build up. I can¡¯t give everyone on the edge like that the chance they need. But I can give it to you. I can give it to both of you.¡±


    Looking back and forth between the two of them, I added a bit pointedly, ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll just go on and start doing worse crimes anyway. Maybe this won¡¯t make any difference at all. But, if you do go on to be real thieves, if a couple years pass and you¡¯re just as bad as all those other gang people out there, you won¡¯t be able to say that it¡¯s because no one ever gave you a chance. I¡¯m giving you a chance right here, right now. I don¡¯t care where your families come from, I don¡¯t care who they are. I don¡¯t care what kind of education you have, or what your neighborhoods are like. I don¡¯t care what you¡¯ve had to do up to this point. The jobs are yours. Once you work off the charity part, the rest is up to you.¡±


    After that, I told them a bit more about the jobs. Specifically, that they should meet me Tuesday afternoon to go meet their new boss. I left out how young she was, figuring I¡¯d let that be a surprise. I also told them not to meet here, but instead gave them an address a few blocks away from the shop itself.


    After that, I looked at Murphy. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t go home tonight. Not with your brother like that.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll stay with Roald til things cool down. Not like it¡¯s the first time.¡±


    Not the first time¡­ A sigh escaped me. ¡°Think about what I said, okay? Your brother¡¯s not going to get better just because you don¡¯t want to get him in trouble.¡±


    She squinted at me, but gave a short, silent nod. So, I sent them on their way, after exchanging my Touched phone number for both of theirs. I told them to let me know if anything else happened or changed.


    Then they left together. Right, so that was dealt with. And now, well, honestly, I was about to go right back to bed. I had a feeling I was going to need all the rest I could get before tomorrow came around. Because then it would be Saturday. Time for Paige¡¯s birthday. The one I had been invited to for some reason.


    Boy, I just couldn¡¯t wait.

 Non-Canon 1 - Cuelebre and Deicide

    A black van drove along an old, neglected and otherwise empty highway that had seen much better days before the far more impressive freeway a few miles away had been constructed a decade and a half earlier. On the side of the van was the picture of a cross, with a small white lamb tended to by a shepherd. It was the logo for the Church of the Lamb. That was what these people called themselves, the name their leader had given his group at the same time that he had declared his own name to be Jesus. Yes, that Jesus. He was, by his own claim, the reincarnation of the original and these were his chosen people, the ones who would help him usher the world into a new age.


    It was a cult. A cult built around a religious fanatic and housed in a compound that the van itself was heading to at that very moment. The compound was only another mile or so away, and its occupants (an older male driver, equally elderly woman beside him, and younger male in the back) were looking forward to being home after several days spent preaching and working toward gaining new converts in Detroit, fifty miles away. They were ready to be back among their family, not stuck with the nonbelievers who mocked them, the sinners who would burn once Jesus finally decided that he had given them enough time to turn from their evil ways.


    Unfortunately for the trio, their music (a collection of hymns played over the van¡¯s ancient and somewhat warbly cassette deck) was interrupted when lightning abruptly struck the ground ahead of them, blowing a three-foot-wide hole in the pavement in the process. With a squeal of tires, the van came to a screeching halt barely a foot from the hole. For a moment, the three stared through the front windshield at the damage that had been done to the road before nearly simultaneously tilting their heads up and leaning forward to see the perfectly clear sky. In the background, the chorus of singers continued to proclaim their love for their shepherd and light, until the younger passenger in the backseat leaned forward to press the stop button. Through the sudden silence that ensued, he asked in a somewhat shaken voice, ¡°Wh-what was that?¡±


    ¡°It is a sign,¡± the woman (her name was Sister Freya) insisted. ¡°We must take news of what we have seen to our lord, so he may come and witness. The time has come for all humanity to--¡±


    That was as far as she managed to get, before the van suddenly and violently jerked backward. The three were tossed forward as the van was hauled back several feet almost instantly, before screaming out as it was subsequently spun around to face the other direction, with the sound of metal tearing as something incredibly strong simply gripped the vehicle by the rear and gave it a hard shove. After completing a full one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn, the van¡¯s spin was stopped by a hand that came down on the hood, denting it inward dramatically.


    Finally, as the skidding stopped and the trio within the van jerked upright once more, they had their first real glimpse of the figure responsible not only for the lightning bolt that had originally brought them to a halt, but also for the subsequent manhandling of their vehicle. And as they saw him, all three immediately began to pray, tears streaming from their eyes as they beheld the monster from hell who had clearly been sent to drag their souls to that eternal abyss. For who else could it be but a demon who stood before them? He towered over their vehicle, standing fifteen feet tall, with leathery purple-blue skin, a bladed tail, and bat-like wings. Truly, this was the devil himself. He or one of his minions, manifested upon the Earth to damn their souls.


    Beholding the obvious evil in front of them, the trio knew nothing but terror. Attempting to flee never entered their minds, for how could one run from a horror such as this? No, their only hope was that they had been worthy and righteous enough to be saved at this moment. Their voices rose in a panicked fervor as they alternately recited memorized bible verses and desperately begged their supposedly risen savior to save them from the satanic fires.


    In the midst of that, Cu¨¦lebre rolled his eyes so hard they very nearly fell out of his head while demanding in a flat, clearly put-upon voice, ¡°Oh, shut the fuck up.¡±


    With that, he reached out, tall enough that all he had to do was lean over slightly from his position at the front of the van, and tore the door off the driver¡¯s side. ¡°Get out,¡± he ordered. When this demand was met with more useless praying, the Touched-man brought his left fist down against the hood with enough force to not only cave it in, but also literally knock the engine out, making it fall to the ground. The entire van itself might have flipped over, had he not used his other hand to grab the top of it so that it only jerked upward a bit, drawing a renewed yelp from those inside. His voice rose to a bellow, ¡°Get out of the fucking van!¡±


    Needless to say, the trio got out of the van. The driver was first, literally falling out through the hole on his side, but the others were right behind him as they threw their own doors open. All three had gone from reciting bible verses to simply stammering and pleading for their lives.


    Once the trio were out, Cu¨¦lebre raised his foot and kicked out hard to send the van flying backward and tumbling end over end before it ended up in a crumpled and completely unusable heap a good fifty feet away. A moment later, a new bolt of lightning tore its way out of the sky and ensured that the van would never be used for anything again.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he informed the group who cowered below him, ¡°whole thing was only worth about thirty bucks and a stick of gum.¡±


    Somehow, Sister Freya found her voice and managed to stammer out, ¡°A hu-hundred copies of the word of our lord, and the new testimony of his flock were in that van, beast!¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Cu¨¦lebre corrected, ¡°Twenty bucks and half a stick of gum then.¡± His eyes narrowed, as he added, ¡°You belong to that cult down the street, yeah?¡±


    The elderly driver, a man who went by the name Brother Harris, rose a bit more (though he continued shaking violently). ¡°W-we are emissaries of the Lord Jesus, returned to this planet to bring eternal paradise and to return y-you and your master to the damnation you have--¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± the towering figure interrupted flatly. His booming voice, despite the fact that he had done nothing outwardly violent to punctuate the demand, made Brother Harris¡¯s mouth snap closed so fast there was an audible sound of his teeth clacking together.


    ¡°Laia and Austen Deleon,¡± Cu¨¦lebre abruptly snapped, filling the silence that had ensued. ¡°They¡¯re in your compound right now?¡±


    His words made the group exchange confused looks, before Sister Freya offered a very weak, ¡°Sister Laia should be tending to the gardens. Her daughter is being punished for blasphemy.¡±


    A deep growl escaped the massive figure, before his hand snapped down to point a clawed finger at the woman. ¡°Punished?¡± he echoed, in a tone that made his implied threat and anger quite clear.


    It was the younger male, Brother Kyle, who found his voice first in the wake of that. ¡°Y-you shall not have her, demon. She has faltered. Your plans to claim her soul by sending the MP3 player and its sinful music has deepened your hold. But she will be saved. Through the blood and sweat, she will be saved from your grasp and returned to eternal paradise with all our flock!¡±


    He might have said more, but the man¡¯s words were suddenly cut off as Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s hand wrapped around him and lifted him up to be face to face. In a very low, very dangerous voice, the massive, demonic-looking figure snarled, ¡°Tell me¡­ about the blood¡­ and sweat.¡±


    *******


    A few minutes later, Cu¨¦lebre launched himself back into the air, leaving the trio of religious nutjobs back where they were. His massive wings beat once, then again, sending him hurtling quickly toward the compound where Austen was apparently being held in a torture sweat box for the horrific sin of listening to music that wasn¡¯t religious.


    Austen. His daughter. In the wake of gaining his powers (and his massively altered form) very recently, the man, whose real name was Danilo Taca, had considered whether or not to seek out the woman he had once loved, Laia, and the daughter they¡¯d had together. Back when Austen was born, he had originally planned on getting himself clean of his drug habit and being there for the two of them. But, inevitably, he had fallen back into old habits and ended up abandoning them.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Now, after fleeing from cops raiding the crackhouse he had been hiding out in and becoming Touched when he found a floating orb, things were different. Along with his massive, incredibly altered form, Danilo had found that his body had been purged of its reliance on those old drugs. His addictions were gone entirely.


    With that lack of addiction came the urge to find the people he had abandoned. Laia and their daughter. For a short time, Danilo had resisted the impulse, thinking that the two would be better off not being dragged back into his life (especially given he was incapable of transforming back into his human form, and thus any such life would not be normal at all). But, eventually, he rejected that thought and decided that he could at least offer the two the choice. Besides, he wanted to know what had ever happened to that kid he had out in the world.


    A bit of searching and digging (it was easy to interrogate people when one looked the way he did, though he had to send others to look for information in public) had eventually revealed that his old girlfriend had ended up taking their daughter out to this nutjob commune with this Jesus freak. And that was something the man now calling himself Cu¨¦lebre could not look away from. He wasn¡¯t leaving the woman he had once cared about enough to want to settle down with, and the daughter they¡¯d had together, in a goddamn cult. Whatever else he may have been, he wasn¡¯t the kind of person who could ignore something like that.


    Quite soon, his flight brought him above the compound in question. The support buildings, barracks, and the like were arranged in two horizontal lines, with various gardens scattered around the outer edges. In the middle, there was a courtyard, with a pathway leading to the crown jewel of the compound: the large church. That last building was very clearly where all the money and effort had gone, as it looked much better than the ramshackle structures around it.


    Not being certain where his daughter and her mother actually were in this place, Cu¨¦lebre realized he couldn¡¯t just rush in and immediately start tearing everything apart, or summon a lightning bolt to turn one of those buildings into a crater. Tempting as that might have been.


    On the other hand, there was obviously something going on down there. Flying above the compound, he could see a lot of figures running around chaotically. For a moment, Cu¨¦lebre thought that the trio he¡¯d just left behind had managed to call ahead a warning despite the fact that he''d made them throw their phones down so he could step on them. But no, this wasn''t about him. For one thing, none of the people down there was looking up. All of their attention seemed to be focused on the church itself. And, looking a bit closer, he could see a couple people already lying or kneeling on the ground, apparently injured from¡­ something.


    Well, this was curious. Hovering there for a moment, he considered what to do next. If there was some kind of problem, his kid could be hurt. On the other hand, before he''d gotten his powers, rushing into things without knowing what was going on had gotten him in plenty of trouble.


    Was it ironic that he was far more cautious and less likely to rush into things now, when he was so much stronger, than he had been as a normal, very flimsy and vulnerable, human?


    A thing to think about later. For the moment, cautious as he might have been, his daughter was down there somewhere. He¡¯d already abandoned her for years thanks to his vices. Now that he was right here and clear-headed, he wasn¡¯t about to let whatever was down there hurt her. Or worse.


    So, with a grunt of decision, Cu¨¦lebre gave a hard flap of his wings to send himself downward. The people who had been gathering around the front of the church looked up at the last second, just before the massive figure landed directly in front of them. From there, he could now see that the doors of the building before him had been blown off and lay some distance into the main foyer.


    Most of the gathered people immediately fell to the ground, sobbing and praying. A few fled with loud sobs. Others brandished crosses or improvised weapons, reciting various bible verses at him, some in Latin. One man, holding a cross that shook violently in his hand, stammered, ¡°T-take your whore and be gone, de-devil!¡±


    Given no other context, Cu¨¦lebre might have ignored that. It might not have stuck out at all. Except, on the heels of those words, the woman next to the man spoke from the ground where she had fallen. ¡°Yes, the g-girl, Austen has sold herself to you, none of us have!¡±


    Austen. Slowly, his head turned and he stared at the man with his cross. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, take my what?¡±


    ¡°Th-the girl, the girl, she fornicated with you and your spawn to gain her unholy powers,¡± the man stammered while holding that cross up a bit higher. Apparently the fact that Cu¨¦lebre hadn¡¯t made a move toward him yet managed to reassure him of its power. ¡°Take her soul and leave this righteous place, you shall have none of us! When our lord is--¡±


    A single, casual swipe of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail took the man¡¯s head from his neck. As the head fell and rolled along the ground, the demonic-figure remarked, ¡°That¡¯s someone¡¯s daughter you¡¯re talking about. Show some respect.¡±


    It took the group surrounding the church, those who had remained through his arrival anyway, exactly as long as it took the head to stop rolling before they all simultaneously came to a decision. And that decision was to get the hell away from that place. Alternately screaming, sobbing, or just shaking in shocked silence, they pivoted and fled, scattering to the winds.


    Which left Cu¨¦lebre standing alone next to the headless body when a figure came rushing out of the open doorway. A small figure with long, dark hair and big brown eyes, surrounded by hovering books and pages that seemed to follow her like obedient guard dogs.


    She came to a sudden stop, the books and pages forming up in front of her like a defensive screen. Those already wide eyes seemed to get even larger as she stammered, ¡°O-oh, what--what--no--¡±


    ¡°Austen Deleon?¡± Seeing her, seeing those pages, it finally struck Cu¨¦lebre what the man had said. Unholy powers. Touched. His kid was Touched. Just recently, from the sound of things.


    The girl, in response, stumbled backward a step. ¡°Get away from me!¡± she blurted out loud, the pages folding and forming themselves into a large sword even as the books became a wall to protect her.


    ¡°Wait.¡± Holding up one massive hand, Cu¨¦lebre tried to think of something to do. In the end, he simply sat down. There was little else that could show he wasn¡¯t there to fight her. ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re Austen Deleon. Laia¡¯s daughter.¡±


    Swallowing audibly, the girl stared at him. ¡°And you¡­ you¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he corrected her assumption. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not¡­ that. I¡¯m Touched, like you. Well, maybe a little different than you. Same idea. I ahhh, I came to this place to find my daughter. Heard she was here.¡±


    ¡°You have a daughter?¡± the thirteen-year-old managed in a weak little voice. ¡°But--wait.¡± Remembering that the man had known her name and that of her mother, Austen worked her mouth a few times before giving a sharp gasp of realization. That was followed by a sudden shout as the books formed themselves into a solid line, like a battering ram, and slammed into the man¡¯s chest hard enough to make him reel backward. ¡°You left!¡±


    She was on her feet then, lunging to land against his chest as she slammed her fist against him again and again, blindly punching him to no effect while the papers and books flew agitatedly around as if they were drawn by a tornado. ¡°You left! You ran away! You left Mom and she--she brought us here, because you were--you were--¡±


    ¡°A piece of shit,¡± Cu¨¦lebre finished. ¡°Yeah. I know. Trust me, kid, I know.¡± He straightened a bit, though he did nothing to stop her from punching him. ¡°I¡¯ve been a huge, drugged up piece of shit. But that¡¯s ahhh¡­ that¡¯s gone now. When I found out you were stuck here, I had to come see about getting you out. But ahhh¡­ it looks like you did that well enough on your own.¡±


    The girl¡¯s face twisted up briefly, as she started, ¡°You¡¯re only here because¡­ because¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡°No. No, you couldn¡¯t be here that fast. You didn¡¯t know I had powers.¡± Swallowing hard once more, she took a quick step away from him, as if he had burned her. ¡°You came before I had powers.¡± The tone was almost accusatory despite the actual words.


    ¡°Like I said,¡± he replied, ¡°I didn¡¯t want my kid stuck in this place. Sounds like they did a real number on your mom. Speaking of whom¡­¡±


    ¡°She left,¡± Austen informed him in a dull voice. ¡°There¡¯s.. tunnels, they go all over the hills out here. She ran away from me, into the tunnels. I was¡­ I was going to chase her, but I heard something out here. I heard those people scream, and¡­¡± Trailing off, she glanced toward the dead body on the ground, giving a soft, choked gasp. ¡°Brother Tim?¡±


    ¡°Friend of yours?¡± Cu¨¦lebre asked with a slight wince.


    There was a brief pause before she shook her head. ¡°No.¡± There was clearly a lot more behind those words, a vehemence that made it clear Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s only regret if he knew the context would be that he hadn¡¯t made the man suffer more.


    Clearing his throat, the man watched her as he declared, ¡°Listen, kid, I don¡¯t know what your mom said--I don¡¯t know much of anything. But it couldn¡¯t be that hard to go find these tunnels and track her down.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Quickly, Austen shook her head. ¡°Let her go. I¡¯ll talk to her later. I--I¡¯ll find her. She¡¯ll just come back here once everyone else does. Once¡­ once we leave.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Cu¨¦lebre echoed, raising an eyebrow.


    She met his gaze. ¡°You came to find me, right? Was it just to say goodbye again?¡±


    His head shook. ¡°No. No, I was gonna ask if you and your mom would give me another chance.¡±


    ¡°Mom isn¡¯t ready.¡± Austen¡¯s voice was certain. ¡°But I¡­ I¡¯ll go with you. You can teach me more about my powers.¡±


    Shrugging, Cu¨¦lebre offered a hand to her while spreading his wings out. ¡°Or find someone else to teach both of us. I¡¯m pretty new to this too. Either way, pretty sure we¡¯ll get further together than we would all by ourselves.¡±


    Austen, in turn, didn¡¯t accept the massive hand or the implied offer of a lift. Instead, she raised her foot, stepping up onto a large platform of books that formed underneath her, before the platform rose into the air with the girl standing on it. ¡°But if you look at any drugs again, I¡¯ll cut your head off.¡± That was stated with a pointed look toward the fallen body below them.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Cu¨¦lebre replied, rising into the air beside her. As the two began to fly away from the compound, he with his wings and her perched on her book platform, he asked, ¡°Wait, hold on. What about that Jesus guy?¡±


    ¡°He¡­ I killed him. He¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Heh. That¡¯s my girl.¡±

 Interlude 13A - Paige And Her Father

    Seven Years Ago


    ¡°Project Owl, day seven hundred and thirty two.¡± Speaking into the portable voice recorder that he held in one hand, a man frowned thoughtfully. He was a Caucasian male with dark blond hair and brown eyes, in his mid-thirties. A white lab coat and dark, heavily stained red apron were worn loosely over his clothes, and he sat in a room that might have been large were it not entirely filled by heavy metal tables piled high with a mixture of mechanical devices and tools. Not to mention the large human cadaver lying on a metal dissection table on the far side of the area, next to an industrial-sized sink. The chest of the body had been opened up, with several organs sitting next to it. Tubes and wires connected the heart and lungs both to the body itself and to a nearby machine, which had a small screen displaying a continuous line of computer code.


    The slight frown on the seated man¡¯s face held until he thought of the next thing to say. ¡°Paige is getting better every day. She¡¯s going to surpass my best estimate months ahead of schedule. At this rate, we¡¯ll be able to move on to phase three before Christmas.¡± Another pause, then a murmured, ¡°Julie would¡¯ve wanted it that way. And with help from the Tates, we¡¯ll have the funding we need. As soon as Paige is ready to show what she can do, what these¡­ enhancements can do.¡± He trailed off briefly, eyes turning slightly to look at the wired-up organs next to the corpse across the room as those last few words left his mouth in a murmur. After that, the man pushed himself up from the wooden stool he¡¯d been perched on and stepped over, hand brushing over the heart just enough to assure himself that it was still occasionally beating. Softly and slowly, but beating nonetheless. A very slight smile touched his face. It was an expression of accomplishment, of satisfaction at hard work being rewarded with results. ¡°We¡¯ll change the world, Julie. With help from the Tates and the Evans, we¡¯ll make everything better.¡± There was a hoarseness to his voice, born of long-buried emotion that the man didn¡¯t dare allow himself to express in that moment for fear of the damage he might do to the valuable materials around him in a fit of anger. It would not be the first time, but he had learned his lesson after losing hours of work.


    Clearing his throat after that momentary pause, the man spoke again for the recorder. ¡°I have another meeting with Russell Tate tomorrow. I¡¯ll take Paige with me and show him how far she¡¯s progressed since he saw her last. If he can convince Sterling and Elena to front the other half of the funding, we¡¯ll never have to worry about working in such¡­ sparse conditions again.¡±


    ¡°Dad?¡± The voice came from the small blonde girl who stood just inside the doorway of the lab wearing dark blue pajamas. In one hand, she held a well-worn and clearly loved book full of Calvin and Hobbes comic strips clutched tight against her chest, while the other hand rubbed sleepily at one of her eyes. ¡°I had a bad dream. Can I have some water, please?¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a bad dream,¡± the man replied simply, casting a brief look that way. ¡°You were just¨C¡± He sighed, shaking his head while muttering something under his breath. Then he stepped over that way. The girl raised her hands as though to be picked up, but he stepped past her without noticing or paying attention. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get you back to bed. It¡¯s a big day tomorrow.¡±


    Rather than following immediately, the small girl leaned up on her toes to stare at the partially dissected cadaver on the nearby table. Her face twisted a bit before she pivoted to trot along after her father, bare feet slapping against the tile floor. On the way, Paige raised the comic strip collection, finding one section in particular. ¡°Dad, dad, listen. Calvin thinks bats are bugs, and¨C¡±


    ¡°Bats aren¡¯t bugs,¡± her father retorted without even glancing that way, his voice making it clear that he hadn¡¯t really been listening to the context of what she was saying. ¡°You know better than that. What¡¯s the scientific name for them?¡±


    ¡°No, no, I know.¡± Head bobbing up and down, Paige hurriedly tried to explain. ¡°But he doesn¡¯t. It¡¯s just¨C¡±


    They had reached the kitchen by then, and the man flipped on the light before stepping to the nearby fridge. ¡°Scientific name for bats, Paige. You know this.¡±


    With a soft sigh, the girl closed the book upon the realization that her father didn¡¯t care about what she was actually saying. ¡°Chiroptera. It means ¡®hand-wing¡¯ in Greek.¡± As she answered, Paige yawned once more, adding a somewhat mumbled, ¡°They used to be sub-ordered into megachiroptera and microchiroptera, but now they¡¯re grouped as Yinpterochiroptera and Yangochiroptera.¡± The words came automatically, with Paige clearly barely paying attention.


    ¡°Good,¡± the man noted, while his voice made it clear he didn¡¯t care all that much aside from registering the factual correctness of her words. He took a glass down from the cabinet, then pushed it against the water dispenser in the fridge to fill it before handing the glass to her. ¡°Have a drink, then it¡¯s back to bed. You know how important tomorrow is, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Taking a sip of the cool water while holding the glass in both hands (the collection of comic strips was tucked under one arm), the young girl slowly nodded. ¡°Yes, Dad. We get to meet Mr. Tate tomorrow. Will we meet Mr. Evans too?¡± She knew the latter was the fish that her father really wanted to land. The Tates were rich, but with the resources that the Evans could bring to Project Owl, everything her father had been working toward for so long would come true.


    The man¡¯s head shook. ¡°No,¡± he murmured. ¡°Not yet. Russell knows the broad strokes of the plan, but we have to convince him it¡¯s possible before he takes it to his friend.¡± His eyes focused on her, narrowing. ¡°Which is why you need to go to bed, so you can do your job tomorrow and impress him.¡±


    Paige murmured an agreement, before finishing her water and putting the glass into the nearby sink. Then she turned back to face the man with a somewhat uncertain look. ¡°You said the Tates and the Evans have kids like me, right?¡±


    The man¡¯s response to that was a low chuckle that expressed the sheer absurdity of such an idea. ¡°No, not like you. There is no one else in the world like you, Paige. No one at all¡­ yet.¡± An anticipatory smile touched his face briefly before he shook that off and focused. ¡°Now, sleep.¡±


    ******


    Two Years Later/Five Years Ago


    After a quick series of beeps as a code was entered in a control panel, followed by an affirmative chime, the thick metal door into the structure that served as both the man¡¯s lab and his makeshift home opened with a whoosh of air. Immediately beyond the heavy door was a set of metal stairs, which Paige descended quickly, taking them two at a time. ¡°Dad! Dad!¡±


    Hitting the bottom of the stairs, the girl had reached a long hallway with an arched ceiling, the walls all made of the same thick metal as the door above. Which made sense, given the amount of damage this bunker had been designed to guard against. Its owner was not an incautious man, in most respects. To the left were the labs and testing chambers, while the living areas, such as the kitchen she¡¯d had her drink of water in that night a couple years earlier, were to the right.


    ¡°Where did you go?¡± The demand came from her father, as he appeared in one of the lab doorways. Dark circles had formed under his eyes in the past few days, ever since the massacre at the Tates house. ¡°I told you to be here waiting for me, not to go wandering off.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t wandering, Dad,¡± Paige insisted, taking the few steps that way to stand in front of him. ¡°Listen, I had to help Cassie. I¨C¡±


    ¡°Cassie? Who¨Cwhat?¡± Her father interrupted, a sudden frown crossing his face. ¡°Who is Cassie? Who have you been talking to? You know you¡¯re supposed to be subtle, invisible. You¡¯re not supposed to stand out. If anyone finds out the truth about you, about¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, she won¡¯t tell anybody!¡± Paige hurriedly insisted. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to tell you, Dad. Just listen for a second, okay?  She¡¯s my friend, Cassie¡¯s my friend! She¨Cthey¨C¡±


    Abruptly, her father¡¯s hands cupped either side of her face, forcing her to look at him and nowhere else. ¡°Paige,¡± he snapped sharply, his voice dangerous. ¡°Tell me what happened. What did you do? What do you mean, you have a friend? Who is this Cassie? You know we can¡¯t trust anyone. You know that. Especially now, especially after¨C¡± He muttered a curse, releasing the girl¡¯s face while turning to step away, his fist hitting the nearby wall. ¡°It¡¯s the Evans and their family bullshit! All them. We were so close, we were so close. Russell and me, we were going to¨Che was¨C¡± He sighed, pressing his forehead against the wall he had struck. ¡°Russell. He was our friend, Paige. He was our friend and he was going to help make everything better. Everything. If it wasn¡¯t for the Evans dragging their family bullshit into this, if it wasn¡¯t for¡­¡± Trailing off, he closed his eyes, shaking his head with a murmured, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Russell. I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t there. Fuck.¡±


    For a moment, it looked as though the man had entirely forgotten Paige. But eventually, he straightened a bit, voice hollow and quiet. ¡°We¡¯ll make them pay. The Evans and everyone like them. We¡¯ll make them understand what they¡¯ve lost. We¡¯ll tear everything they have away from them, burn it down, and build something better. Something that works.¡±


    With those words, the man took in a long, deep breath before letting it out slowly. He was a bit calmer now, a bit more in control, though the dark circles from lack of sleep remained, of course. ¡°You can¡¯t endanger that by talking to people, Paige. Everything we¡¯ve worked for, it¡¯s almost gone. You and me, we¡¯re going to break the Evans. We¡¯re going to break the entire goddamn system.¡±


    Carefully, Paige pointed out, ¡°I thought you wanted them to fund your work, so you could¨C¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± the man interrupted. ¡°That was the plan. The Evans and the Tates, with both families, we could have changed the world. We¡¯ll still change it. But not with the Evans. Not with them. It¡¯s their fault Russell and Gloria are gone. Their family, their¡ªtheir evil bullshit drama! Everyone else suffers but them. Everyone else gets plowed under the ground, just like Julie. You really think I¡¯m going to hand this kind of power to them? No. No, no. We¡¯re going to make them pay for what happened to the Tates, for what their kind does to everyone else in the world. We¡¯re going to put them in the ground, and then we¡¯ll make everything better without them.¡±


    Smiling in satisfaction at that declaration, the man seemed to abruptly remember what had started the entire conversation. ¡°Cassie. Who is Cassie? Who have you been talking to?¡±


    For a very brief moment, Paige hesitated, the answer on the edge of her lips. But the anger in her father¡¯s voice, the way he talked about breaking the Evans. She had come running in to tell him that they had to help Cassidy, after she¡¯d witnessed that man in the other girl¡¯s bedroom erase her memory. She¡¯d hidden in Cassidy¡¯s closet, watching as her friend¡¯s memories of Anthony (and of Paige herself) were wiped away. After escaping the house, she¡¯d come here, hoping that her father would help her save her friend.


    Now she saw what a mistake that was. She saw just how much his hatred of the entire Evans family had grown. He had been friends with Russell Tate for a long time. Now the Tates were dead, and her father needed someone to blame. He¡¯d chosen to blame the Evans simply because it had been Mrs. Evans¡¯ father and the remnants of his old criminal gang (the majority of which Sterling and Elena themselves had taken over) who had murdered the Tates.


    In her father¡¯s mind, his friend Russell would still be alive if the Evans hadn¡¯t allowed their ¡®family drama¡¯ to go that far. If they had stopped Jacopo Russo, Elena¡¯s father, before, it never would have happened. Now he would never accept that it wasn¡¯t their fault.


    So, the girl did something that should have been impossible. She lied to her father. ¡°She¡¯s this homeless lady by the laundromat,¡± she answered simply, after a hesitation that had lasted only for a second as all those thoughts ran through her mind. ¡°Remember you said I could go for walks if I didn¡¯t attract attention? The laundromat is across the street from the park, and I see that woman by the bench outside a lot. So I started giving her part of my sandwich, and she told me her name¡¯s Cassie Bawneworth. She thinks I¡¯m Jenny Ferguson.¡±


    ¡°You said you had to help her?¡± the man pointed out curiously, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Her dog,¡± Paige lied again. ¡°He got off his leash so she needed help getting him back. Because she doesn¡¯t run very well anymore. You know, because she¡¯s old.¡±


    Apparently satisfied, her father clearly dismissed the story from his mind entirely with a simple, ¡°Well, you¡¯re going to be too busy to play those kinds of games now.¡±


    ¡°What are we going to do, Dad?¡± Paige asked, after a very slight hesitation. She knew that talking her father out of his revenge wouldn¡¯t work. She knew how obsessed he could be, how much he had cared about not only the project in general and all the good he was certain it could do, but about his friend as well. The Tates being murdered hadn¡¯t just hurt the project that he had put his entire soul into for so many years, but also hurt him personally. No, not just hurt. Destroyed. He meant it when he said that Russell was his friend. A friend who had done so much for him, who had been there through the beginnings of the project and had been ready to push everything to the next level. And now all of that anger, for the death of his friend and what could very well be the death of his years-long dream of making the world a better place, was being put onto the entire Evans family. Nothing she said would dissuade him from that.


    Chuckling softly at her question, the man straightened. ¡°What are we going to do?¡± he echoed, voice sounding somehow dangerous. ¡°The Evans have two children. We¡¯re going to take the older one, the¡­ boy, was it? Yes. The boy. We¡¯ll take the boy. And when I¡¯m done with him, he will be¡­¡± He trailed off once more, words turning to a simple chuckle of dark amusement. ¡°Well, he¡¯ll be better than he was. And more obedient. He will do what I tell him to, just as you do. And with that¡­¡± The man¡¯s face set, the anger, outrage, grief, and sheer agony from the death of his friend blazing through his hard eyes and his dark words. ¡°With that, he will kill his sister. The older Evans boy will kill his sister, then confess. Not only to that, to everything. He¡¯ll tell everyone, the whole world, that his sister was going to tell the police about this¡­ Ministry of theirs. He¡¯ll tell them that he tried to stop her, that they struggled and he killed her. And now he¡¯s so upset, he has to tell the truth about everything. He¡¯ll go on national television to expose the truth. Yes. One of the Evans¡¯ children will kill the other, and then expose all of their dirty little secrets to the entire world.¡±


    On a roll by that point, the man pivoted on one heel, walking back toward the lab he had come out of. ¡°And when the Ministry lies exposed and ruined, with so much attention on the Evans and their allies, what remains will need leadership. We will step into that void. You and I, Paige, will take up their resources and use them to complete Project Owl. The Evans will be in no emotional condition to retaliate, not with the loss of their daughter at the hands of their son, and the revelation of their secrets to the world. Every eye in America will be on them, and more beyond.¡±


    He stopped in the doorway, looking back toward her. ¡°We will make this world better, Paige. Just as we planned. But only once the stench of the Evans and their people is removed from it. We¡¯ll scrub them away, and build something better than they could ever dream of.¡±


    Swallowing slightly, the blonde girl straightened and gave her father a very faint nod. ¡°Yes, Dad.¡±


    From there, she watched as he disappeared into the lab once more, to map out his plan in full. Already, the man was muttering to himself about how to grab the boy, how long they would have to work undisturbed before any alarm was raised, and what sort of supplies he would need to stock up on to make certain everything was ready.


    For almost a full two minutes after her father vanished from sight, Paige stood there. Her eyes stared unseeingly, her attention and thoughts elsewhere as she fought through so many decisions. Cassidy didn¡¯t remember her. She had no idea who Paige was.


    But Paige remembered her.


    Eyes finally focusing, the girl turned. She strode past several doors to reach her father¡¯s office before stepping inside. Glancing back to check the corridor, she listened to the sound of the man talking to himself in the lab, before stepping over to the desk. The phone. She picked it up, hitting a series of numbers from memory.


    When the person on the other end of the line answered, Paige spoke in a voice that was far different from her own, sounding more male than female. ¡°Robert Parson? No, you don¡¯t know who this is.


    ¡°But there¡¯s someone you need to know about.¡±

 Interlude 13B - Paiges Preparations

    A sleek, elegant-looking sports car slowed at the road construction cones that blocked off the quiet, otherwise empty street. The orange lights atop the ¡®detour¡¯ sign flashed repeatedly in the darkness of the post-midnight hour, illuminating an arrow pointing toward a nearby alley. A sign next to the alley itself insisted that it would lead around the construction. For a moment, the driver seemed to be considering their options, before putting the car into reverse, pulling back a few feet, and then following the ¡®detour¡¯ instructions by pulling ahead into the alley.


    Only once the car had made it halfway down the alley did its headlights actually reveal the truth. There was a wall at the opposite end, with no way of actually getting through. Nor was there room in the alley to turn the car around. There was barely room to open both doors.


    Just as that became clear, a large van pulled backward into the open alleyway, blocking the exit. Immediately, the back door of the van opened, and four men wearing red and black masks and dark jackets with various years written across the back and (in smaller lettering) over the front pocket, emerged. The years were all different, but each was 1999 or earlier. Of course, because these were members of the Ninety-Niners gang, those who only allowed members who had either lived (or had family who lived) in the city prior to the year 2000. They tended to boast of how long each of their families had lived in Detroit. The further back you could trace your family connection to the city, the higher you were regarded and the easier it was to be promoted.


    Each of the four Ninety-Niner men who hopped out of the back of the van carried a gun. Two had pistols, while two had shotguns. They split into pairs, one of each weapon type, and advanced. Two moved to the driver¡¯s side, while the other pair moved up on the passenger side. All four glanced toward the license plate on the car. It was an out-of-state plate, of course. That was what had made this particular vehicle such an attractive target. Fucking outstaters coming to their city, reaping the benefits of what people whose families had actually lived there had earned? Hell no, not anymore. The Ninety-Niners were going to make damn sure that didn¡¯t happen. Especially with some rich, spoiled cocksucker who thought they could come here in their fancy sports car. Detroit was for Motor City natives, not some Johnny-come-lately.


    The driver of the car hadn¡¯t moved once the men emerged. They kept sharp eyes on the reverse lights while raising their weapons, making it clear if the person tried to reverse into them, they¡¯d be hit by a hail of gunfire. But the driver gave no indication of doing anything of the sort. They simply sat there, as though waiting for the gunmen to approach.


    Reaching the back of the car, the two pairs of masked figures briefly exchanged glances before starting around. The two by the passenger side carefully used small lights attached to their weapons to check for anyone crouched or laying in the back on that side, but found it empty. The car¡¯s only occupant was the driver, whom they could now see was a blonde female.


    The two on the driver¡¯s side glanced at each other once more. Then the one with the pistol, who was in the lead, tapped his weapon lightly against the roof of the car. ¡°Open the door,¡± he ordered. ¡°Put your hands out first, then step out slowly. Do it now and you won¡¯t get hurt. We want your car and any money you¡¯ve got on you, that¡¯s it. After that, you can run off, call the cops, report to your insurance, whatever. Not like some rich cunt like you can¡¯t afford it.¡±


    There was no response to his words, only the very faint sound of whimpering. The blonde girl¡¯s head was down, and it sounded like she was crying, obviously in shock. She gave no indication that she had even heard what he said, seeming lost in her own terror.


    Great, it was going to be one of these. People who screamed and cursed them were one thing, but the criers were really annoying. Grimacing behind his mask, the man sighed and steadied himself before knocking a bit louder with the butt of his gun. ¡°Hey!¡± He raised his voice. ¡°You hear me? Just get out of the car and you¡¯ll be fine. I¨C¡± He cast an annoyed look back to his partner before leaning down to be even with her open window. ¡°Look, just fucking cooperate and we¡¯re not gonna hurt you or anything.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Paige Banners replied, no hint of emotion in her voice. As the man reacted to that, eyes widening, her hand snapped out through the open window. She caught hold of his jacket and yanked hard, slamming the man¡¯s forehead against the top of the car. Twice in rapid succession, she repeated the same move, shoving the man back and then slamming his head against the car, all before any of the others could react. His arm with the pistol came up, and she caught it with her free hand, yanking his dazed and barely conscious body partway into the car in order to force his own hand to point toward the opposite side as she made his finger pull the trigger, shooting the pistol-armed man who stood by the passenger door. Silenced as it was, the weapon made almost no sound. They hadn¡¯t wanted to attract police or Touched attention if this went wrong. Which it was, but not in a way they could ever have imagined.


    The first man¡¯s partner with the shotgun was trying to get a clear aim, but Paige was using his buddy as a personal shield, blocking his view. Smoothly, she stripped the pistol from the man¡¯s grip, lying backward across the seats with him on top of her as she pointed the weapon backward, firing a single shot that hit the other man on the passenger side right between the eyes. He dropped, his own shotgun clattering to the ground.


    Finally, the man with the shotgun on the driver¡¯s side took quick aim, desperately trying to get a shot at the girl herself. Before he could see anything other than his own buddy¡¯s flailing body, however, Paige released said buddy¡¯s jacket. Her now-free hand snapped up and flicked to the side, prompting a small silver dagger to jump into her palm from her sleeve. Another quick snap of her wrist sent the blade through the open window, where it rebounded off the nearby brick wall before stabbing itself firmly into the back of the remaining man¡¯s neck.


    He collapsed to the ground, gun clattering loudly. Finally, Paige used her foot to kick her door open, emerging as the barely conscious figure of the first man fell to his knees on the alley floor when she pushed him out of the car with her. He jerked just a little bit while making a sound. It could have been a curse, a protest, a plea, she didn¡¯t care. The hand with the gun she had taken from him simply pointed that way and she shot him through the side of the head, leaving his body to collapse.


    Everything had transpired in the span of just a few seconds. Short enough that the driver of the van barely had a moment to realize just how terrible things had suddenly become. As Paige looked that way, the van shifted into drive as the driver panickedly began to flee. Rather than chase him, however, she pivoted toward the door of the nearby building. The van started to tear out of the alley, while Paige fired a single shot from her borrowed pistol at the doorknob before shoving her shoulder into it. The door opened, and she sprinted through the closed and empty shop, vaulting over a couple tables and counters on her way to the front.


    She reached the main door, firing another shot that shattered the glass so she could leap through it, just as the van came out of the alley and around the corner. The driver barely had time to notice the figure emerging into view before she sent one more shot into the side of his head. The van kept going for another twenty feet or so before coming to a slow stop as the now-dead driver slumped over.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Looking one way then the other up and down the street, Paige checked for anyone paying attention. But the Ninety-Niners had chosen their ambush spot for a reason. There was no one around. Satisfied, she walked to the van, yanking the door open before pulling the dead driver out. Letting the body fall to the ground, she examined him critically, turning him over with her foot.


    ¡°Between the five of you,¡± the girl muttered darkly under her breath. ¡°I sure hope one has clothes that actually fit me.


    ¡°Otherwise this really was a waste of time.¡±


    *******


    An hour later, the Ninety-Niners van pulled through another alley and stopped at the rear entrance into a laundromat. Paige, dressed in the clothes, jacket, and mask of one of the men she had killed (which did actually fit, to her relief), parked the van, turned it off, and stepped out with a shotgun held loosely in one hand.


    A whistle from the doorway drew her attention to the similarly-dressed gang member who had previously been hidden out of sight. ¡°Yo, you by yourself tonight?¡±


    When Paige spoke, her voice came out sounding far deeper than it did naturally, matching that of the man the clothes had actually belonged to. ¡°Lost a fucking bet. They get to grab food at Dino¡¯s, I get to bring this shit over.¡±


    ¡°Hah, figures.¡± The man pushed his way away from the door and moved to the back of the van. ¡°Let¡¯s get it over with. You get a good haul, at least?¡±


    Paige, in turn, waited until the man yanked open the rear door of the van and was confronted with the sight of his five dead fellow gang members. Just as he started to react to that, she drove the butt of the shotgun into the back of his head, knocking him senseless. Casually, the girl shoved him up into the van, grabbed the keys out of his pocket, and shut the doors once more while muttering, ¡°Mostly trash.¡±


    With that, she headed for the door of the laundromat, unlocking it with the keys she had grabbed before stepping inside a short hallway. As she passed through the doorway, she heard a simple beep. To most people, it wouldn¡¯t have meant anything. But Paige knew that the single beep was the sound of the Ninety-Niners¡¯ security system verifying that the jacket and mask she wore contained the hidden microchips tagging her as one of their own members. If it had detected her entering without those microchips, the alarm would have sounded immediately.


    Straight ahead the hall opened up into the main room where the machines were, while a single door to the right was labeled ¡®restroom¡¯ and a door to the left read ¡®staff only.¡¯ The sound of a loud television and a man chuckling came from that latter door.


    For a moment, Paige simply stood and listened, head cocked to the side. Two people. There were two people in that room. And, from the sound of things, one further off in the main room, doing something with the machines. There was an occasional bang and curse as he was apparently having trouble with his work. Three guys upstairs. More downstairs, she was sure.


    Rather than open the door to the office where the two men were watching television, she simply produced a small, matchbook sized silver box and pressed it against the doorjamb. It stuck in place, remaining there while giving a soft, barely audible beep to confirm it had been armed. That done, Paige walked swiftly and silently past the door, heading for the main room. The man working there had his back to her as he leaned over one of the washing machines, fiddling with it. Paige, in turn, moved right up behind him. He sensed her presence at the last second and started to turn, but she caught the back of his neck and shoulders with both hands and forcefully slammed his forehead down into the top of the washing machine twice. Then she shoved his dazed form down, lashing out with a kick that put him down.


    She paused, listening just in case. But there was no movement from the office. They obviously believed the bangs they had heard were simply more examples of their companion¡¯s annoyance with his work.


    Satisfied, Paige stooped to grab a badge off the man¡¯s belt and moved to an unlabeled door on the far side of the room. It was barely visible, intentionally positioned and painted to blend into the wall. If you weren¡¯t looking right at it, and sometimes even then, you¡¯d have no idea it was there. At most, anyone who didn¡¯t know what it was would think the door led to a small supply closet or something.


    But Paige knew better. She had spent months researching to know better. It had taken that long to work out what she needed for her plan to succeed, and to find out where it actually was.


    There was no obvious place to put the badge that she had taken from the unconscious man¡¯s belt, which was also intentional. But Paige, again, knew what to do. She held the badge up against what appeared to be a simple stain on the wall next to the door. After a couple seconds, there was a click, and she hauled the door open with her other hand, keeping the shotgun tucked under one arm.


    Stairs lay beyond, which the girl quickly started down. So close now. She was so close. Just a little more and she¡¯d have what she so desperately needed.


    A man emerged from a door at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her in clear surprise. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s going on? Is something¨C¡±


    Paige shot him. There was no time to waste, no way she was going to risk losing out on her goal when she was so close. The shotgun blast took the man directly in the chest, making him collapse to the floor while Paige hopped over him, landing in the doorway he had come out of. It was a sterile lab, where the Ninety-Niners mixed their drugs. A dozen men and women in plastic cleanroom suits jerked upward from their work at the tables, but Paige simply held the shotgun up, watching as they jerked their hands in the air and went still.


    Drugs lined the tables, and the people clearly expected her to take them. But she ignored those. Instead, keeping the shotgun raised and trained that way, Paige made her way across the room to another door. Just as she reached it, a man came rushing out, pistol in hand. He would have fired, but Paige had already reacted. Even as the door was still opening, before the man had actually emerged, she snapped her free hand out, producing one of her knives before throwing it. The blade whistled through the air, driving itself into the man¡¯s throat the instant he came into view. He never had a chance to so much as fire a shot before he was already falling.


    That prompted a lot of screaming, with one man from the cleansuit brigade bolting toward the stairs. Paige let him go, and the rest followed suit, scrambling to escape.


    She didn¡¯t care. They didn¡¯t matter. All that mattered was in that room. She stepped over the dead body, entering what looked like a small storage area filled with the supplies and equipment the people in the main room needed to put the drugs together to be sold.


    There. In one corner of the small room was a locked metal cage, about four feet high and four feet wide. Paige murmured a word of thanks under her breath before crouching. Her hand found the padlock, and she gripped it tightly and took a breath before yanking hard. It took a couple tries, but the lock finally snapped, and she tossed it aside before opening the cage.


    There. A small green and silver tank, just like one that would hold oxygen, sat there alongside several more just like it. But this one didn¡¯t have oxygen. Technically, the Ninety-Niners used small portions of it in some of their drugs. But that wasn¡¯t why Paige needed it. She had¡­ a different use in mind.


    Grabbing the tank, the girl straightened and turned. She quickly made her way across the main basement room and up the stairs. Emerging into the laundromat itself, she found the main door hanging open where the workers had all fled. To the left, she saw the hallway she had come in through. The door to the manager¡¯s office was open, and the two men who had been watching television inside lay slumped on the ground where the device she¡¯d attached to the doorway had left them when they triggered it on their way out.


    Satisfied that there were no more surprises, Paige pivoted and walked out through the open front door. More Ninety-Niners would be on their way shortly, but she would be long gone by the time they got there. They would have no way of finding who had ambushed their men, infiltrated their facility, and stolen their equipment.


    Quickly moving down the street, Paige found her way to a small parking lot beside a diner. The car she had left there earlier, before any of this started, was still waiting. Opening the back door, she carefully stowed the stolen tank, then stripped out of the jacket and mask, tossing them into the nearby dumpster so she couldn¡¯t be tracked.


    That done, the blonde girl gave one last look around, then stepped down into the anonymous sedan, started it up, and pulled away. In the rearview mirror, she saw three vans full of Ninety-Niners come screaming up to the laundromat before dozens of armed men went storming inside.


    But they were too late. Paige had what she needed. She was ready for her birthday party.


    She was ready to deal with Cassidy.

 Project Owl 14-01 And Patreon Snippets 7

    The morning started out like most others did these days. In other words, it started by me being woken up by Jania Estrada, our elderly-yet-eternally-energetic maid from Panama, turning on the vacuum cleaner a few feet away from the bed I was snoring on. As usual, the sudden loud noise sent me tumbling out of bed with a yelp, which made Jania¡¯s cheerful laugh overwhelm the sound of the machine itself. She wasn¡¯t malicious about it, of course. Jania was one of the nicest people I knew. But she had a job to do and I tended to sleep in on non-school days, for reasons that should have been fairly obvious (not that I could give them to her). She wasn¡¯t waking me up for the hell of it, even if my reaction did give her some amusement. She did other work upstairs and waited as long as she could before Olivia, our head housekeeper, would have had harsh words for her tardiness.


    Still, whether by choice or not, Jania did find waking me up with the vacuum and my subsequent reactions to be ever-so-amusing. Sometimes I managed to wake up first, but others, like now, she would put the vacuum close enough to give me a minor heart attack when it flipped on.


    Lying in a heap on the floor, I turned my head just enough to stare at the gray-haired woman who was currently giving an entirely-too-innocent expression while vacuuming back and forth. ¡°Oh, Miss Evans!¡± Her mock surprise wasn¡¯t the least bit convincing, and she obviously knew it. ¡°I did not see you there. Were you not downstairs already eating?¡± Her head tilted, and then she made a sound of put-on realization. ¡°Oh, that must have been Miss Amor who was at the table.¡±


    With a groan, I rolled backward and managed to pull myself to my feet somewhat awkwardly. ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± I retorted, ¡°simple mistake. We look so much alike.¡± Picking up one of my pillows, I chucked it lightly at her. She, of course, smoothly ducked without paying much attention. For an old lady, she was pretty spry and had good reflexes to go along with her good mood and sense of humor.


    Checking the time, I grimaced. It was almost eleven o¡¯clock. God, I really had needed sleep. Worse, Paige¡¯s party was supposed to start at two, so that was only three hours away. Urgh. Once again, I considered just pleading off. But not only was there that whole ¡®keeping up appearances for the family¡¯ thing, I also really wanted to know what the hell was going on with her, and this was basically my best (if not only) chance to find out.


    As far as the first bit went, I did wonder just what my parents were thinking about all this. They knew that Paige knew at least something about their business, that she had enough information to make them back off and leave her alone. Yet they still wanted me to go to this party. Was I some kind of unwitting spy? Were they going to ask me all kinds of things about her when it was all over? Was this just their way of getting someone in Paige¡¯s house? Were they using the whole party thing as a way to find out how much Paige really knew, as some kind of test or¡­ something? I had no idea. All I knew was that my mother said that it would be rude for our family to turn down an invitation from her family, but that I was free to leave once I¡¯d made an appearance. Which was an offer I still wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d take or not. Sure, I was wary of going, but once I was there, it made sense to stick around and see what happened. Again, it wasn¡¯t as though this kind of opportunity came around a lot.


    Still, with only three hours to go, all sorts of doubts and insecurities were popping up in my head. Anything could go wrong over there. And by that, I meant anything. Paige could be planning some kind of humiliating, nasty attack against me, or this could end up being some big Touched/Ministry-related thing. Or it could be nothing at all, just both sides (her and my parents) feeling each other out to see what the other would do.


    It was fucking complicated, and I had no idea how it was all going to play out. What I did know was that I was hungry, and that at least was something I could take care of immediately. Well, almost immediately. First, I headed into the bathroom, took a nice, hot shower, then dressed before heading downstairs.


    The others were obviously long-since done with breakfast by then, with Dad already off to some meeting, Mom having a conversation in the front hall with some florist or dressmaker or something who had stopped by (I wasn¡¯t sure, as I kept hearing both words about flowers and fabric), and Simon paused on his way out the door of the kitchen as I was going in just long enough to give me a noogie before he headed for the garage.


    Izzy was still sitting there, looking at the comic strips in the newspaper. After ordering food at the intercom, I took a seat next to her. ¡°How¡¯s Garfield today?¡±


    ¡°Fat and lazy,¡± she replied, looking over at me. ¡°Are you really going to that girl¡¯s birthday party? Isn¡¯t she, umm¡­ not very nice?¡±


    Yeah, I may have said a thing or two about Paige while Izzy and I were playing video games before. Plus, she¡¯d seen her back at Amber¡¯s own party. Grimacing, I shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t really have much of a choice. It¡¯s a whole ¡®rich people¡¯ thing. Her family¡¯s rich, mine is rich, we have to play nice at times like this. According to Mom, it wasn¡¯t even Paige who wanted to invite me. It was more ¡®her family inviting our family¡¯, with me as the proxy.¡± Rolling my eyes, I added, ¡°Fun, huh?¡±


    ¡°Super,¡± came the simple response, before Izzy turned a bit more to face me directly. ¡°Your umm, your mom asked if I wanted to go, cuz there¡¯s supposed to be a lot of different kids there, even my age. It¡¯s a whole thing. The Banners invited half the people in the city, it seems like. But I¡­ I told her I wasn¡¯t sure if you wanted company. Or, you know¡­ some kid tagging along.¡±


    That made me do a double-take, blinking at her. ¡°Wasn¡¯t sure I wanted¨Csure, Izzy. I mean, I¡¯ll take all the back-up I can get. And you¡¯re not just some kid, you¡¯re¨C¡± Realizing I had no idea how to finish that sentence, I settled on doubling down with, ¡°You¡¯re not just some kid. Besides, if Paige is awful, I¡¯ll just retreat to the tweens area and hang out with you.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t think that¡¯ll just give her more ammo about you being too young?¡± Izzy pointed out, clearly trying to sound diplomatic about the whole thing.


    I, in turn, shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not like she needs any excuse. I¡¯m not gonna live my life by what might give Paige Banners a way to make fun of me. She¡¯ll do that regardless. I¡¯d rather have fun. And if I¡¯ve got to make an appearance there, I¡¯d rather have someone else to hang out with, like you.¡±


    ¡°And Amber and Jae,¡± the other girl pointed out. ¡°They¡¯ll be there too, right?¡±


    ¡°Right, yeah, them too.¡± I gave a slow nod before giving her a quick wink. ¡°You guys really hit it off before, huh?¡±


    A brief, vaguely odd look crossed the girl¡¯s face before vanishing. It could¡¯ve been my imagination. Either way, she gave a quick nod. ¡°Uh huh, they¡¯re nice.¡± The curt answer was followed up by a curious, ¡°What¡¯s a birthday party for the rich like?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll see,¡± I informed her with a cough. ¡°It¡¯s always different, and I haven¡¯t exactly been invited to many of Paige¡¯s, so I don¡¯t know what she does.¡± Or did I? At some point, I¡¯d clearly been close enough to Paige to know a lot more about her than I did now. Did I visit for her birthday? Had I¨C


    ¡°Cassidy?¡± Izzy¡¯s voice interrupted, as she touched my arm. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uhh, yeah, sorry.¡± Flushing despite myself, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m fine. The point is, birthdays are extravagant. But then, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯ve figured out a lot of things around here are extravagant by now.¡±


    Even as I said that, the kitchen door opened and Christiana, one of Chef Claudio¡¯s assistants, emerged with the tray holding my breakfast. After thanking her for setting it in front of me, I quickly dug into it, while glancing at the girl next to me, ¡°So, you¡¯re gonna come, right?¡±


    ¡°Um, okay.¡± Izzy still sounded unsure about the whole thing, but gave me a little nod. ¡°If you want me to.¡±


    Honestly, I really wasn¡¯t sure how all this was going to go down. Would having Izzy there put her in danger? I¡¯d basically figured out and accepted by that point that my parents didn¡¯t mean her any harm, whatever reason they had for her being here. But taking her out to where Paige¡¯s house was, when I wasn¡¯t sure why I had even been invited? Was it stupid?


    Maybe. But there would be a lot of people there, as Izzy herself had noted. No one was going to pull something obvious with so many witnesses and bodyguards around.


    Right?


    ********


    ¡°Holy shit, Evans, you actually showed up?¡±


    Izzy and I had just been dropped off in the front drive of the Banners mansion. Like my family¡¯s place, the ¡®driveway¡¯ was long enough to have several school buses park along it. There weren¡¯t exactly school buses parked there now, though there were several cars all letting out an assortment of teenagers. Most looked pretty damn impressed by the massive house in front of them.


    That obviously surprised exclamation had come from a short (well, taller than me but only by about four inches or so), vaguely heavyset black guy with glasses and an ever-present red baseball cap worn backwards. San Francisco Cavers. Yeah, his first name was San and his middle name was Francisco. His parents really thought they were clever, I supposed.


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    ¡°Hey, San,¡± I greeted him. He¡¯d gone by Frank (as in San Francisco) for awhile back in junior high before deciding he hated that worse than just San. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Whether his name was cool or weird, San was a friend. Sort of. Mostly he was a ¡®hang out at school or go do something dangerous and crazy afterward¡¯ sort of buddy. Not that we¡¯d exactly hung out any time recently. Mostly because I hadn¡¯t hung out with¡­ any of my school friends. How could I? Either I¡¯d be putting innocent people in danger by being around them, or I¡¯d be spending time with people who were planted by my parents to keep an eye on me. Any of my ¡®friends¡¯ at school could¡¯ve been secretly reporting to my parents. Or collateral damage if something happened to me.


    Paranoid? Sure, definitely, no question. But didn¡¯t I have reason to be? Yeah, I¡¯d avoided most of my school friends since that night. It hadn¡¯t been all that hard, given how much I¡¯d tended to keep them at a distance anyway. For¡­ reasons I was starting to understand, with this whole Anthony Tate thing. He¡¯d been a really close friend and he died. Whatever happened back then had obviously been traumatizing enough that my parents erased it from my memory. But I had a feeling that some of it had stuck around. Between that and Paige apparently being erased and¨C


    Actually, was it possible that¡­ if Paige and I had been friends, even if she was also somehow erased from my memory, when she¡¯d showed up again and acted like such a bitch to me, I¡¯d subconsciously taken that as some kind of betrayal? Could that have helped my whole¡­ avoiding close friendships thing too?


    Huh.


    San was shaking his head. ¡°What¡¯s up? What¡¯s up is I¡¯m surprised you came. I mean, it ain¡¯t like you and Princess Peach in there are all that close.¡±


    Grimacing, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, well, it¡¯s a family sort of thing. You know, gotta keep up appearances.¡±


    With that, I started to introduce Izzy as a girl who was staying with us for awhile, just as Tomas approached. Of course he was there too, speaking of people whom I still didn¡¯t know if I could trust at all or not. I wanted to, naturally. But I kept flipping back and forth between just how involved he was with his father. The fact that he¡¯d been my boyfriend for awhile after Mr. Jackson erased my memory back in the day¡­ yeah, it made me uncomfortable. But Tomas was just so¡­ decent, so cool. He made me feel like I was special.


    Then again, so had my parents. And look at that whole situation.


    Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused as Tomas was saying, ¡°You know Cass isn¡¯t going to let someone being a hellbeast stop her from doing anything.¡± His hand patted my back as he added, ¡°I mean, come on, this is the same girl who, according to some very interesting stories people were telling the other day, jumped into Maggie DeLeano¡¯s pool from the roof just because someone said she was too chicken to do it from the balcony. She didn¡¯t just beat the dare, she upped the ante. And freaked out Mr. DeLeano when he saw her fall past the window, so he came out and started yelling.¡±


    ¡°You did?¡± That was Izzy, staring at me with wide eyes. ¡°Wait, how big was the DeLeano house?¡± Clearly, she was trying to figure out just what level of crazy I actually was.


    ¡°Just a few stories, no big deal,¡± I insisted. ¡°They have a deep pool too. Trust me, it was nothing.¡±


    ¡°Nothing?¡± Tomas chuckled, giving me a look. ¡°From what I heard, no one else was ready to go jumping off after her.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re all sissies,¡± I pointed out mildly, poking him in the chest. ¡°And so are you.¡±


    ¡°Sissy and proud of it, ma¡¯am,¡± he replied with a grin that made my heart twist itself into knots. Even now, even with everything I knew and all the things about that whole situation that terrified me, Tomas could make my knees shake and my mouth go dry with a single look. How was that fair?


    With some effort, I shoved all those thoughts away before looking at San. ¡°Anyway, can we stop telling Izzy all about the dumb things I used to do when I was young and stupid?¡±


    Lowering his head, the boy stared at me over the top of his glasses, looking entirely unimpressed. ¡°Dude, it was like¡­. four months ago.¡±


    ¡°Four month¨C¡± Izzy looked at her fingers, doing the mental math. ¡°Wasn¡¯t it still winter then?¡±


    ¡°Pshh, their pool was heated,¡± I pointed out, as if that actually solved anything. Still, my face flushed a little. ¡°And yeah, four months ago. Like I said, young and dumb. I wasn¡¯t even sixteen yet. Totally not worth ever bringing up again.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s not worth bringing up again?¡± Amber, approaching with Jae (who was heavily done up in a hat, sunscreen, and dark shades to protect her sensitive albino skin), asked. She exchanged a fist bump with San, while looking toward me. ¡°You sure you wanna be here?¡±


    Despite myself, I rolled my eyes. ¡°Come on, guys. I didn¡¯t accidentally have the driver drop us off here thinking it was the mall. And I didn¡¯t bring this for my health.¡± From my pocket, I produced a small, red-wrapped present to wave at them. ¡°Believe me, if it was my choice, I¡¯d rather be almost anywhere else. But her family and mine just¨Cwe have to play nice.¡±


    Quietly, Jae pointed out, ¡°Her too.¡±


    ¡°Right, that should mean she plays nice too, especially with all these people here,¡± Amber agreed. ¡°But shouldn¡¯t we go in to find out? What¡¯s everyone standing outside like this for anyway?¡± By that point, there had to be over a hundred teenagers out here, all talking in small groups or pairs.


    San shrugged, looking around at the rest of the mingling groups. ¡°One of the butlers was out here before. He said something about the party being prepared and that we¡¯ve all gotta wait.¡±


    Tomas gave a short nod of confirmation. ¡°Yeah, and he didn¡¯t look too happy about all the people out here either. Pretty sure if it was up to him, he¡¯d turn the hose on all of us.¡±


    That, of course, was the perfect opening for San to start talking about the time I¡¯d managed to get Mrs. Kormish to turn her hose on me after one too many times running through her backyard to get the balls that ended up back there. Her yard was right on the edge of the park where I took my skates and board to use the ramps and rails, and some of the guys played baseball on the nearby diamond. I didn¡¯t really play, but every time a ball went in mean old Mrs. Kormish¡¯s yard, the boys all looked to me to go get it. Apparently I was the only one who wasn¡¯t chicken, given how much she yelled at and threatened anyone who got near her grass.


    Anyway, one time I¡¯d gone too close to her back porch, and she came running out from the side of the house (apparently she¡¯d been working in the flower garden there), spraying me with the hose and screaming bloody murder. That was a fun time.


    Izzy was squinting at me. ¡°How come so many of your stories end with ¡®and then I got soaked while someone screamed at me?¡¯¡±


    San laughed. ¡°Oh, kid, you think that¡¯s bad, you should¡¯ve heard about the time we were out on the beach, and¨C¡±


    He was interrupted (and I was spared hearing that story again), by the arrival of Paige herself. Several people quickly spoke up, pointing her out as the birthday girl stood at the front door. Her gaze swept over the crowd and¡­ I swore she looked right at me. Our gazes locked, holding steady for a solid couple of seconds before she spoke up.


    ¡°You came.¡±


    Me? Was¨Cwas she talking to¨C


    By that point, her gaze had swept on, taking in everyone with a very faint smile. Whatever had been there on her face earlier was gone now. It had been replaced by a polite smile, that of a gracious host. ¡°Thank you all. I¡¯m sorry for keeping you waiting. But believe me, it¡¯s going to be worth it. Come on inside.¡± She turned, gesturing as two maids there opened the large front doors, holding them wide for everyone to follow as Paige herself walked back into her house.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get this party started.¡±


    ********


    Patreon Snippets ¨C Raindrop


    ¡°Does this hurt?¡± With that question, the paramedic who stood in front of Raindrop gently turned her arm, testing the range of motion. ¡°You said a brick clipped it right here? Or was it higher?¡±


    It had been a few minutes since the fight with Suckshot and Landlock. Izzy was still standing in the theater, though no longer up on the stage. Still in full-costume, of course, the girl was holding her arm out absently for the medic to check over while her gaze remained centered on the spot where Paintball was waving off a medic of his own, insisting he was fine.


    Realizing belatedly that she had been asked a question, Izzy flushed under her mirrored faceplate and quickly turned her attention back. ¡°Huh? Oh-um, no, it¡¯s just a little sore. Um, bruised, I guess?¡± Her gloved hand moved to gingerly touch the spot where she had been clipped by the brick before Paintball showed up. Before Paintball helped save them. Helped save her.


    She was blushing again. Forcing herself to focus once more, she listened as the medic finished up with making sure she wasn¡¯t injured even worse, and told her what to do if she did find that it was more than a bruise.


    Finally, he left. Paintball, meanwhile, had already started to head for the exit after seeing that the authorities had Suckshot and Landlock in hand. After giving a quick glance around herself to make sure she wasn¡¯t ignoring anyone, Izzy jogged after, catching up with the boy. For a second, she hesitated. What was she going to say? The first thing that sprang to mind was to ask how he was already so good at this stuff when he¡¯d just started out a short time ago and wasn¡¯t working with a group. He was her age. Her age, but he did all this stuff alone, or even came to help when they needed it even though he wasn¡¯t part of their team.


    And that was another question Izzy wanted to ask. Why? Why didn¡¯t he want to work with them? Actually, it was pretty obvious that he was just fine working with them, as long as it wasn¡¯t official. So¡­ so what was his deal?


    Ugh, he was so mysterious. He came out of nowhere, was super-good at this stuff even if he made mistakes, and he just¡­ he just helped. She¡¯d even heard that he was giving out sandwiches and stuff to the homeless. Again, what was his deal?


    But she couldn¡¯t bring herself to ask any of that. It was too confrontational, too direct. And after everything he¡¯d done, after the way he¡¯d jumped in and¨C


    Blushing again. Good mask. Very good mask. Izzy had never been so thankful for¨C


    ¡°After you.¡± Paintball was holding the door open leading out to the street. Holding the door and waiting for her expectantly.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Izzy quickly piped up before starting to move through. The minor voice changer she used, just enough to make it so people wouldn¡¯t be able to put her voice online to figure out who she was, picked up the squeak in her words, making the girl blush even more as she quickly stepped through the doorway. Then she turned back, facing Paintball. ¡°Um. Thanks for all of that, I mean. Thanks for helping.¡±


    For a second, Paintball seemed to be confused. ¡°Thanks¨Coh. Uh, no problem. It¡¯s what we do, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Izzy agreed hurriedly, bobbing her head. It was just what they did. Never mind that Paintball managed to be funny and cool about it while not having a team with him or anything. Never mind any of that. Stop thinking about that. Yeah.


    Clearly, whatever else Paintball was, he was not telepathic. Because he gave no indication that he had any hint of anything Izzy was thinking. Instead, his helmeted head turned as he took in the sight of various cops rounding up mostly-injured and only slightly resisting gang members all around them. ¡°I guess we should help clean up a bit, huh?¡±


    Once again, Izzy found herself nodding. Right, they should help clean up. She and Paintball should help.


    Her blush was going to burn through the mirrored faceplate, she just knew it.

 Project Owl 14-02

    ¡°I think they might want us to go that way.¡±


    Tomas¡¯s dry words came as our large assortment of teenagers made our way into the front foyer of Paige¡¯s house, behind the birthday girl herself, just to find the grand room with its sweeping staircase and priceless artwork, filled with servants. There were maids blocking various doorways, what looked like a gardener standing in front of an antique grandfather clock as though to stop anyone from getting near it, a cook standing in front of those stairs, and so on. A dozen or so of the Banners¡¯ staff stood in key positions to stop any of our group from wandering off or touching something they shouldn¡¯t. And all of them were pointing toward the only doorway that wasn¡¯t blocked.


    Yeah, most of them were smiling (or at least trying to), but it was still really damn creepy. Actually, it was probably even creepier with the smiles. They almost looked like robots, standing there guarding everything deemed valuable or important from the scary teenagers. Boy, I was glad my family didn¡¯t live like that. Did Paige have to worry about being glared at by random staff for getting near a painting or a statue, or was this just for us?


    Okay, thinking back on the things I¡¯d seen my classmates do (and that I¡¯d done myself), this was fair. A huge group of teenagers in one area like this¨Cyeah. It made total sense to make sure things didn¡¯t¡­ go wrong. Especially given how we could egg each other on into doing very stupid things. Which I could say with a considerable amount of authority, considering I was very often the one who was egged on to do those stupid things. But hey, they¡¯d already had that Slip ¡®N Slide set up in the school hallway. What was I supposed to do, say I couldn¡¯t make it from one end to the other?


    Wait, that was another thing that ended with me being soaked while someone screamed at me. Huh. Maybe Izzy had a point.


    Shaking off those thoughts, I let myself be pulled along with the rest of the group as we moved through the doorway, finding ourselves in another hall, then a T-junction of corridors before making it to a door leading to what turned out to be the back patio. This was where the party was supposed to be, apparently, given all the balloons, decorations, tables laden with treats and presents, and so on. The nearby pool, a huge, horseshoe-shaped thing, even had ¡®Happy Birthday Paige¡¯ written above it in colorful Tech-Touched hologram lights from nearby projectors. In the distance, on the far side of the grounds, some kind of outdoor stage had been set up with curtains raised around it.


    The moment we were out here, everyone spread out a bit. Paige had moved to the edge of the pool, pivoting back to face us with that smile that I¡¯d seen her use on teachers and other adults for so many years. It was a smile that could instantly dissolve into a vindictive scowl the moment their backs were turned and I was the only one who could see her. I¡¯d long-since learned not to trust it. And today was no different. Seeing that smile made a slight shiver run through me.  Whatever Paige was up to, I definitely wasn¡¯t going to turn my back to her anytime soon. Otherwise I¡¯d be likely to get a dagger shoved in it. Metaphorically, of course.


    ¡°How¡¯re we doing today, Dynasties?!¡± the blonde called, her voice filling the area without even needing a microphone (her time as a cheerleader had done wonders for her ability to project). Dynasty, somehow, was the name of our school¡¯s mascot. Yeah. We were the Cadillac Dynasties. And some of my classmates wondered why we were considered spoiled and privileged. That was a real mystery.


    And speaking of being spoiled and privileged, Paige waited until the resulting enthusiastic cheers died down before continuing. ¡°In a couple hours, we¡¯ll have some pizza and wings, then cake and ice cream! And after that¡­ well, then I get my presents.¡± She said it casually, with a confident, yet charming and somehow self-deprecating smile that made most people chuckle.


    ¡°But after I¡¯ve been thoroughly impressed and bribed by all the goodies you¡¯ve brought,¡± she continued easily, ¡°then we¡¯ll all go inside to my family¡¯s private theater, where you are all invited to watch the new Lou Devereux movie, not due out in public until next week!¡±


    Yeah, that definitely got cheers. I heard a lot of excited murmurs, words about how cool this was, how they knew Paige would have something good planned, and so on. Beside me, Tomas patted my back slightly, while Izzy actually touched my hand gently. I had a feeling she could tell I was uncomfortable, whatever I did to try to hide that.


    Paige was already continuing. She had adopted a clearly put-on, confused tone. ¡°Except, there¡¯s a problem, isn¡¯t there? I mean, we¡¯re not eating for a couple hours, and the movie is after that. So, what are we going to do in the meantime? It¡¯d be boring if we just sat around, huh?¡± Her head tilted back and forth as though she was thinking about it, before perking up. ¡°I know! Parties have music, right? So we should have some music.¡±


    The blonde raised her voice even more then, practically shouting. ¡°Hey, boys! Think you could give us some music?!¡±


    With that, and as Paige pointed, the curtains around the stage in the distance suddenly dropped. Everyone turned that way to see a band already there in position. And this wasn¡¯t just any band. No, of course not. This was¨C


    ¡°Zenith Renaissance?!¡± one of the other party guests blurted, her words quickly taken up by others. Because yes, the internationally famous Zenith Renaissance, a band that regularly sold out world tours and whose albums were some of the hottest releases of the past few years, was right there on the stage. And they were already starting to play one of their main songs. Which, of course, drew screams of delight from everyone around me as a bunch suddenly rushed that way to get closer to the stage. A stage that was, naturally, suddenly protected by several big guys in labeled security shirts.


    ¡°How the fuck did she keep this a secret?¡± San Francisco blurted from a bit behind me, his tone utterly amazed. ¡°And how did her parents convince these guys to play a private concert for a couple hundred people at best?¡±


    Quietly, I murmured, ¡°You¡¯d be surprised at how good she is at keeping secrets.¡± Then I quickly shook that off and added, ¡°And money, probably. A lot of money. Probably flew them straight out here from wherever they¡¯re touring right now.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°Come to think of it, where are her parents?¡± There¡¯d yet to be any sign of them. Paige and the household staff were the only ones we¡¯d seen.


    Most of our classmates had already rushed to be in front of the stage. Even Amber and Jae headed that way to get a good spot, the former calling back that they¡¯d save space for us. But Tomas was still there with Izzy and me, offering a shrug. ¡°Probably busy. Not like they need to be down here. And from what my mum said,¡± he added in a somewhat quieter voice, ¡°they don¡¯t spend a lot of time with Paige to begin with.¡±


    That made me do a quick, confused double-take. ¡°Wait, since when does your mom have anything to do with Paige or her parents?¡±


    That earned another shrug from the boy, who started to walk that way to join the others while answering. ¡°They¡¯ve been golfing together a couple times since we got back! And they do brunch.¡±


    Okay, now I really wanted to know more about all that. Especially given the fact that Tomas¡¯s father had only recently tried to kill Paige to shut her up. Now his mother was friends with her adopted¨Cuuuurgggh, this was all too goddamn confusing.


    The sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention behind me, as I belatedly realized that Izzy and I were the only ones still standing away from the stage. Well, Izzy, me, and Paige. Yeah. She was the one clearing her throat, gazing at me with an unreadable expression. I couldn¡¯t tell if she looked sad or smug.


    For a moment, Paige and I just stared at each other, before she casually drawled, ¡°That can go on the table with the others.¡± Her head nodded toward the present that was still clutched in one of my hands. ¡°Or in the trash if you want to spare one of the maids the time it¡¯ll take to put it there themselves. Either way, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll end up where it belongs.¡± A brief pause, then, ¡°I¡¯m sure a lot of things will end up where they belong today.¡±


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    ¡°Hey!¡± That was Izzy. ¡°When someone brings you a present, you¡¯re supposed to say thank you.¡±


    Paige, for her part, looked a little amused. ¡°Aww, Cassidy, look. You finally found someone shorter than you to hang around with. Tell the truth, which elementary school is she from?¡±


    ¡°The one where they teach basic manners,¡± Izzy immediately shot back, surprising me a bit. ¡°You obviously wouldn¡¯t know it.¡±


    For a brief moment, Paige just stood there without saying anything. Finally, she chuckled and pivoted to walk away with a deceptively casual, ¡°Good to see you¡¯ve got someone to fight your battles for you, Cassie. Not like you¡¯re any good at it yourself. Maybe try someone who¡¯s old enough to stay up past eight o¡¯clock next time?¡±


    She kept going, heading to join all her devoted fans (who were really fans now that she was giving them a private concert and advance movie screening) even as the music started up. They greeted her with a cheer, of course. Yeah, she owned this party.


    Izzy, meanwhile, looked at me. ¡°Is she really always like that?¡±


    My mouth opened to confirm it, before I stopped, pausing as an important realization struck me. ¡°No,¡± I murmured in surprise. ¡°She isn¡¯t always like that.¡± Quickly, I corrected myself. ¡°I mean, yes, she¡¯s always a bitch to me. That¡¯s not new. But she¡¯s usually nice to other people. Look at what she¡¯s like with all those guys. Amber and Tomas both even said that Paige is cool to everyone except me. So¡­¡± Squinting uncertainly, I looked to the girl beside me. ¡°Why would she act like that to you? She¡¯s always more diplomatic with other people, or just uses them defending me as a way of turning it around on an insult to me, like she did at the end with that whole thing about me not fighting my own battles. But she insulted you. She made fun of you being short and young. That doesn¡¯t¨Cshe doesn¡¯t do that. Why would she do that now?¡±


    Izzy offered an uncertain shrug. ¡°Because she knows I¡¯m staying with you, maybe?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I allowed, though it didn¡¯t sound right. There was something off about this entire situation, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. Something was wrong here. Seriously, where were Paige¡¯s adopted parents? Shouldn¡¯t they at least make an appearance?


    Speaking tentatively, Izzy asked, ¡°Do you want to drop off the present and leave? You¡¯ve made an appearance like your parents wanted.¡±


    Part of me just wanted to do just that, wanted to take off right then and say screw this whole thing. But I couldn¡¯t. Not when this was my best chance to actually find out the truth about the whole Paige situation. This mystery had been going on long enough, and now that I was actually here in her house, I wasn¡¯t giving that up. Something big was going on here, and I couldn¡¯t just walk away from it.


    So, I shook my head, offering the younger girl what I hoped was a reassuring smile. ¡°Not gonna let her being a bitch chase me away from a party. Even if it is hers and even if she¡¯s being more of a bitch than usual. Come on, let¡¯s drop off the gift then go see if Amber and Jae managed to save us a spot.¡±


    *******


    We watched the concert. Outside of the fact that it was in Paige¡¯s backyard and I still didn¡¯t know what the hell was going on with her, it was pretty great. Especially once I let myself give up on the idea of trying to sneak into Paige¡¯s house during the whole thing. There were way too many people around, with various house staff members standing by every entrance. I had the feeling they were there to make sure none of the guests went on an unauthorized tour. Which was exactly what I wanted to do, but not for the reasons they might have expected.


    Or maybe it was for the reasons they expected. For all I knew, the entire house staff was in on this whole thing and knew what Paige was up to. Maybe they were just there to stop a bunch of teenagers from making a mess or stealing things. Or maybe they were there to make sure that whatever was going on went off without a hitch.


    If something was going on. I still didn¡¯t have any proof of that, and it felt like I was crazy for thinking there was. Yet there was that tickle in the back of my brain that just wouldn¡¯t go away. Something was happening, something big. Paige was throwing this party and had invited all these people, including me, for a reason. But¡­ why? What was her deal?


    I still didn¡¯t have any better ideas and wasn¡¯t any closer to answers by the time we all ate pizza, followed by cake and ice cream. It was served out on a large buffet table where you could take anything you wanted. Izzy gorged herself. Obviously, she didn¡¯t exactly feel guilty about taking all the food she could possibly want from Paige after that whole confrontation.


    After that, Paige opened her presents. She oohed and awed dramatically over each one, making a big deal about thanking the person who gave it. Well, except for mine, of course. She opened the one from Izzy and me, producing a couple premium seating tickets to a play that was all-but impossible to get into for most people. It was a play I knew she wanted to see, because I¡¯d heard her talking to a couple friends about it back at school. But because it was from me, she simply held them up, announced what they were, and said a simple, ¡°Thanks so much.¡± Without naming me, of course. But everyone knew.


    Then it was time to head in to see this movie. I probably could¡¯ve taken off by now. I¡¯d more than made an appearance. But I just¡­ I had to see this through. Something was keeping me here, some thought that this was too important for me to just give up and head home. The answers to what the hell Paige¡¯s deal was were here somewhere, and this was my best chance to get them.


    Once more, as we made our way through the house to the Banners¡¯ private movie theater, there were staff members standing around to make sure nobody wandered off. Good lord, I¡¯d thought this would be a chance for me to sneak away and search the house, but that just wasn¡¯t gonna happen. Not with all the eagle-eyed and attentive maids and such who were bound and determined to watch every step we took. It felt like if someone had so much as taken a wrong turn down a different hallway, a SWAT team would¡¯ve descended on them. I probably would¡¯ve had more luck searching this place by coming in the middle of a school day or something. Because this was just insane.


    But I was here now, and maybe things would calm down during the movie. Yeah. Once everyone got settled in and it was dark, I¡¯d slip out to ¡®use the bathroom¡¯, then manage to get myself lost. That felt like my best chance. For now, I¡¯d just wait for the movie to start and everyone to get engrossed in it.


    Unfortunately, the movie wasn¡¯t the first thing on Paige¡¯s mind, apparently. Once everyone was seated in the private theater (there were just barely enough seats for the entire crowd with a couple left over), she moved front and center with her hands up. ¡°You guys all having a good time?!¡±


    The answer, of course, was a resounding roar of approval from most people, and I watched as Paige¡­ well, seemed to ignore it. Most of the time she would have basked, but now it felt like she was just going through the motions. The look on her face, it wasn¡¯t¨Cit was wrong. It was the wrong expression for this kind of thing, even if she was really good at hiding it. There was something¡­


    Belatedly, I realized Paige was still talking while I was trying to decipher her expression and mood. Something about giving presents to everyone who came¨Cright. Yeah, she was going to gift a present to each and every person here, one at a time. There was a table full of colorful gift bags beside her, and she proceeded to start calling every person up, one at a time, to get their present for being a ¡®wonderful guest.¡¯


    The gifts were either a new phone, new smart watch, or new ipad, depending on what Paige had determined each person needed or would want more. And yeah, everyone went nuts. A few people hugged her after getting their gift, before heading to their seat.


    Honestly, I expected her to skip over me. Expected it so much I almost didn¡¯t hear her when she said my name. So she said it again. ¡°Cassie Evans.¡±


    She was looking at me. They were all looking at me. Fuck. Pushing myself up while asking myself what the hell her game was, I headed to the front. Cassie. She called me Cassie. Paige never did that. It was always Cassidy. Cassie was way too familiar and friendly. And she¡¯d called me that earlier, hadn¡¯t she? With Izzy. Why¡­?


    Reaching the front, I squinted at the girl, almost silently daring her to pull something now in front of everyone. She, in turn, offered me a faint¡­ kind of sad smile. Sad? Why was she sad?


    ¡°I want you to know,¡± Paige informed me, loudly enough for everyone to hear, ¡°I think you earned this a long time ago.¡± With that, she turned to pick up yet another small gift bag, this one with my name on it. She held it up, and I saw her hand dip into the bag, eyes rising to meet mine with an expression of¡­ fear¡­?


    A sudden, terrifying bang filled the room. It sounded like a gunshot. Instantly, the lights went out. The whole area was suddenly pitch black and everyone started screaming, even as something was shoved against my face. A mask? No, like an oxygen mask. It was an oxygen mask, except it wasn¡¯t pumping oxygen. It was¨Cit smelled sweet, it smelled¨C


    My knees went weak. I collapsed forward, caught by Paige in the darkness even as my consciousness started to fade. I felt sick, I felt wrong, everything was¡­ everything was¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Paige¡¯s voice whispered in my ear as she slumped to the floor with my falling body. Her voice, her apology, was the last thing I heard. ¡°You have to die. I don¡¯t have a choice.


    ¡°You have to die.¡±

 Project Owl 14-03

    You have to die.


    Coming awake after fading into darkness with words like that ringing in my ears wasn¡¯t exactly a fun experience. Wait, scratch that. What the fuck was I saying? Waking up at all after hearing words like that as the darkness had claimed me was a remarkably fun experience. If I was awake, I was alive, considering actual full-on ghosts didn¡¯t really exist.


    Also, I had a headache. I kind of doubted that people in any kind of afterlife had headaches. Unless¨Cwell, on the other hand¡­


    Right, focus, Cassidy. I was alive, awake, and my eyes were open. At least, I thought they were open. It didn¡¯t make much of a difference, because everything around me was dark. I didn¡¯t feel any pressure against my face or anything, so it wasn¡¯t a blindfold. And I wasn¡¯t handcuffed or tied up in any way. I was just lying on a floor. A cold cement floor, from the feel of it.


    For a few seconds, I just laid there, listening. I was trying to figure out if I could tell anything else about where I was or if anyone was in here with me. But there was nothing. The room was completely silent and completely dark. I didn¡¯t know if there was someone else in here, or if there were cameras with night vision, or anything. So, no using powers just yet. Especially since I had no idea what I would use said powers on even if I had actually wanted to reveal them.


    Okay, this was getting me nowhere. If there was someone in here, they weren¡¯t going to say anything. And lying here wasn¡¯t accomplishing anything or getting me any more information. I had to move. Carefully, I put my hands down against the cement floor, starting to push myself up. I made it to a sitting position, then got my feet under me to stand. But in mid-motion, the lights came on with a suddenness that made me yelp out loud, almost falling over again.


    Wait, no. Not lights. One light. Specifically, a television. It was a large flatscreen mounted on the nearby wall. But the illumination from the screen coming to life allowed me to see more of the room I was in. Not that there was much to see. It looked like an empty unfinished basement room, about fifteen feet by twenty feet. So, pretty small. The floor was concrete, as expected, and so were the walls. In the far corner there was some kind of heavy metal door.


    ¡°Cassidy.¡±


    The sound of Paige¡¯s voice made my gaze snap back to the television. She was there, on the screen. She looked¡­ bad. Well, no, she looked perfect, as always. Physically, there was nothing wrong or different about her. She was just as much the pristine cheerleader princess as always. But there was something¡­ something else wrong, something deeper that I couldn¡¯t really define. Maybe it was in her eyes. She looked tired and worn out. Definitely stressed.


    ¡°I know you must be very confused right now,¡± she continued. ¡°I wish I could be there myself to tell you what¡¯s going on, to tell you all of it. But I can¡¯t. I just¨C¡± For a moment, it looked as though the other girl was going to say something else, before she finally just shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t be there. This recording, this video, is going to have to do. It¡¯s linked to a motion sensor that should only go off once you¡¯re sitting up, so¡­ unless I really screwed up, hopefully you¡¯re actually awake when it starts playing. Otherwise, this¨C¡± Seeming to realize that she was getting off-topic, she visibly shook herself and focused. ¡°But there¡¯s one thing you need to know, one thing I wish I could¡¯ve said before.¡±


    Those words were followed by a long, silent pause as Paige apparently took the time to collect herself. I saw her swallow hard, barely keeping herself somewhat together. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry for everything I said to you before, for everything I¨Cfor everything that happened between us. My father¨Cmy real father, not the man you know, he¡­ well, he didn¡¯t give me a choice. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to say the things that I said, or¨Cor do any of that. You were my¨C¡± Again, she stopped, heaving a long, heavy sigh before looking down. It took her a few more seconds to collect herself like that, staring at the floor. From the background of the video, it looked like she¡¯d recorded it in this same room. She might as well have been standing in front of me.


    No, because if she was standing in front of me, I could have shaken her violently and demanded she actually give me some fucking answers. Or at least said ¡®what the fuck¡¯ to her in person. That would¡¯ve been nice.


    Eventually, Paige looked back up. If anything, her gaze looked even more haunted. ¡°Let¡¯s just say you and I have a very complicated history, Cassidy Evans. Even more complicated than you know. My father wanted me to hurt you. He didn¡¯t give me a choice. I know that¡¯s hard to understand, I know it¡¯s not a real¨Cthat I¡¯m not explaining what you really need to know. But I can¡¯t be sure this recording won¡¯t end up with the wrong people, no matter how careful I am. So there are things I can¡¯t say.¡±


    Taking in a long breath before letting it out, she continued. ¡°There are few things I can say. Things that I know you have no reason to believe. Especially after the past few years and everything that I¡¯ve said and done. All I can say is please just¡­ just listen for a few minutes, because everything I¡¯m about to tell you is one hundred percent true.


    ¡°First, your best friend when you were young was a boy named Anthony Tate. You were going to his birthday party five years ago, when you found his entire family and their household staff murdered. You saw Anthony himself killed right in front of you. The men who did it worked for your grandfather, your mother¡¯s father. He was angry at your parents and sent those men to kill Anthony¡¯s family and to abduct you. But your bodyguard, a man named Robert Parson, saved you. He killed them, and your dad killed your grandfather.¡±


    Paige trailed off like that, apparently giving the words time to sink in. And I was definitely reeling. Her explanation made sense, so far. It fit everything I knew, and definitely filled in some blanks. Was it the truth? She¡¯d said it was, but¡­. right, just listen. I¡¯d sort out how I felt about it and whether I believed the whole thing once she was done.


    ¡°The thing you need to know, Cassidy,¡± Paige continued eventually, ¡°the thing you need to believe even if you don¡¯t believe anything else, is that your parents love you. Never doubt that. They¡¯ve made mistakes. They¡¯ve screwed up, made choices in trying to protect you that might have done more damage. But it was never out of malice. They love you, Cassie. They saw you were hurt and they wanted to take that hurt away.¡±


    If I hadn¡¯t been able to piece some of what had happened with Anthony Tate together before, this whole thing would¡¯ve left me reeling even more than I already was. Hell, if I didn¡¯t know about my family¡¯s real situation, I would¡¯ve been even more lost. At least I had a head start on understanding some of this, and I still desperately needed to sit down.


    Almost like she was ripping off a Band-Aid, Paige continued. ¡°Your parents had a special Touched use his power to erase that traumatic event from your memory, Cassidy. They did it because they love you, and you were in pain. They shouldn¡¯t have. They should have let you get better, should have let you get through it. But they didn¡¯t want you to feel all that pain. When your best friend died, when he was murdered by someone working for your grandfather, they didn¡¯t want you to be stuck with that memory. So they had it erased. Not because they were hiding some dirty family secret from you. Not because they didn¡¯t trust you. Because they wanted to help you. Right or wrong, good or bad, they wanted to take your pain away.¡±


    Wanted to take my pain away. My parents had wanted to make me stop hurting after I¡¯d seen my best friend murdered in front of me, along with the bodies of all his family and house staff, so they¡¯d had my memory erased. Was that true? Was that the only reason they had Tomas¡¯s father do his thing?


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    And what about the rest of it? Anthony and his family were killed because my grandfather was pissed at my parents? Was he really capable of that? Was¨Cwhat was I saying, my parents were capable of doing plenty of evil things. They had to get it from somewhere, right? Or was that just a dumb way of thinking? I didn¡¯t¨Cfuck, I had no idea.


    Paige had stopped talking on the video, as though giving me time to process all of that. Then she continued. ¡°Your parents¡­¡± Trailing off, she looked uncertain of how to proceed or how much to say. Finally, a heavy sigh escaped her. ¡°There¡¯s a lot you need to know about your parents, Cassidy. But I know you have no reason to believe anything I¡¯d say to you about them. Not after everything that¡¯s happened over the past few years. I¡¯d say trust me, but¡­ that would be stupid. So, I¡¯m just going to say it and you can decide how much you believe.¡±


    And then she told me about the Ministry. Basic stuff, really, most of which I¡¯d already worked out or realized on my own. She told me my parents ran the organization, that they kept crime in Detroit to what they considered a reasonable (and profitable) level, and that they had contacts inside most of the Star and Fell organizations in the city. And, after telling me that what she was about to say would hit me really hard so I should sit down or brace myself, she ¡®revealed¡¯ that my father was Silversmith. While, of course, telling me that she knew I probably wouldn¡¯t believe it.


    Beyond all that, Paige also explained that the backbone of the Ministry had evolved from a criminal organization run by my grandfather. Detroit¡¯s version of the Mafia. My parents had stolen the organization out from under him somehow, kicked him and his loyalists out of the city, and gradually reworked it into what it was today. The fact that my grandfather¡¯s group had strong contacts and allies in the police force and government (not to mention the amount of powerful people they could blackmail) was what gave Mom and Dad the headstart they needed to put their spies in place on so many Star-Touched groups. They basically took the city¡¯s criminal mob, complete with all that organization¡¯s influence over corrupt law enforcement, and twisted it into this whole ¡®control or manipulate all supervillain and most superhero actions in the city¡¯ thing.


    Yeah, it was a lot to take in even while knowing what I did. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how I might¡¯ve reacted if this had all been completely new to me. Would I have stood there through all of these claims? Would I have shouted back denials at the television? Would I have ignored her completely, or even tried to break the screen? Would I have tried to leave, or just ignored her? Would I have¨Cwait, my phone.


    While listening to the recording continue, I dug in my pockets. My phones were there, but there was no signal. Of course. I had the feeling that, whatever else was going on, Paige didn¡¯t want me leaving this place, or calling for help. Particularly considering I might¡¯ve called my parents before she explained everything. And certainly before I would¡¯ve believed her if I hadn¡¯t already known the truth.


    Paige pushed on. ¡°The point is, your grandfather was pissed about being kicked out of his own organization, his own city, by his daughter and her husband. So he brought his loyalists in and they attacked your best friend¡¯s birthday party. They killed Anthony in front of you, and your bodyguard barely got you out. He was almost killed by your grandfather, who wanted to abduct you, before your father showed up and killed him. Then they had your memory erased to protect you. That was the end of it¡­ or so your parents thought.


    ¡°You see, my father was working with Anthony¡¯s. They were working on¡­ on a huge project, one that was supposed to change the world. It¡¯s called Project Owl. When your grandfather had Anthony¡¯s father killed, it ruined Project Owl, my father¡¯s life work. He blamed¨Cblames your parents for it. He tried to get back at them by having your brother abducted and¡­ and altered so that he would kill his sister¡­ you. Then Simon would have revealed the whole truth about the Ministry to the public, and while your parents were occupied with all of that, my father would have taken their resources and used them to finish Project Owl.


    ¡°But I couldn¡¯t let that happen. Because when your parents erased Anthony and his death from your memory, they erased me too. You and I¨Cwe were friends too. And Anthony. All three of us. You were-¡± She stopped, clearly choked up a bit before managing to catch herself. ¡°You were both my friends. But it was a secret. Your parents didn¡¯t know about me, so they didn¡¯t know they were erasing me. You forgot about me. But I didn¡¯t forget about you, and I couldn¡¯t let my father do that. So I¡­ I called your bodyguard, Robert Parson. He was still too injured to do much back then, but he made some calls. He made sure my father ended up arrested and sent to Breakwater. Because he¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s Touched, Cassidy. He¡¯s a Tech-Touched, but his focus is on working with bodies, working on living things, biological things. He¡¯s¨C¡± She stopped, considering for a moment before shaking her head. ¡°The point is, they sent him to Breakwater, and that was supposed to be the end of it too, just like your parents thought before.¡±


    Again, there was a brief pause, before the girl made a face. ¡°But¡­ but I didn¡¯t realize that my father had contingencies. I can¡¯t¡­ really get into them right now. All that matters is that he can control me. He can make me do exactly what he says, even if I don¡¯t want to. I have to follow the letter of his orders, even through intermediaries. And he used that intermediary to order me to go with the Banners. He sold me to them, and ordered me to spend a few years being a total cunt to you. He wanted to establish years of bad blood, of arguing, of¡­ of us being rivals, I guess. Because when I turned seventeen, when I was old enough to be sent to Breakwater too, I was supposed to kill you myself and, when the authorities came after me, make it look like I was Tech-Touched, using the equipment he left. Then I¡¯d be sent to the island, but¡­ but it wouldn¡¯t stop me. When they sent me to Breakwater, I would be able to break my father out and he would go back to his plan to use your parents¡¯ organization to finish his project, while they were too busy mourning you to defend themselves.


    ¡°Like I said, I had to follow his orders to the letter. He ordered me not to warn you or anyone about this until it was over. He ordered me to treat you like shit, to start fights with you, to insult you, to do everything I could to make the two of us fighting be realistic. He¨Cthere were a lot of orders, Cassidy. Most importantly, he ordered me to kill you on my seventeenth birthday. He ordered me to invite you here, and to kill you in a roomful of people. So I did.¡±


    Well, that part was a bit confusing, yeah. I just stared at the screen as she continued. ¡°I followed the letter of his orders. The gas I pumped into you was enough to kill you. You died, Cassidy. And I did it in a room full of people. But I had the lights go out so they didn¡¯t see what happened. My father never said the lights had to be on, only that there had to be a lot of people in the room when it happened. And he said you had to die, but he never said you had to stay dead. So, when everyone was still reacting, I took your body through a secret door and gave you the antidote. You were dead for about one minute. That was enough to fulfill my father¡¯s orders.¡±


    Glancing away for a moment on-screen, Paige seemed to gather herself. ¡°But he still has people who will kill you if they find out you¡¯re alive. So I can¡¯t¨Cyou have to stay there. I used this¡­¡± With that, Paige pointed some kind of remote at the camera she¡¯d been using to record this whole thing. As she clicked it¡­ I appeared in her place. It was some kind of video editing overlay on the screen or something, but it looked and sounded completely realistic. It looked like me. Suddenly, Paige wasn¡¯t the one on-screen, I was. It was only a view from the waist up at that point, which helped with the height problem.


    ¡°Hey, guys,¡± my voice said, ¡°that was pretty fucking crazy, huh? Listen, I¡­ I can¡¯t deal with this. Paige is just¨Cshe¡¯s too much. So when the lights went out, I sort of¡­ I took off. I just need to clear my head. Could you make sure Izzy¡¯s okay and that she gets home? Thanks. And¨Cand sorry. I just had to get out of there. I¡¯ll explain later, I promise.¡±


    Paige clicked the image thing off, returning to herself. ¡°I spoofed your phone number and video called Amber like that. So, you shouldn¡¯t get in too much trouble or anything, I hope. I just¨Cstay there, Cassidy. The room¡¯s set to unlock and let you out in two hours. That should be long enough for me to do what I have to do to make sure you stay safe.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Cassie. I¡¯m sorry about everything. I wish we could¡¯ve stayed friends. But I was never¡­ I was never meant to have friends. As for everything I¡¯ve told you about your family, you can decide to do whatever you want with that information. Believe it, don¡¯t, look into it yourself, just¡­ be careful, please. I wanted you to know the truth. You deserve the truth. I can¡¯t tell you how to react, whether to believe me or not, who to talk to about it. I can¡¯t tell you anything like that. All I could give you was the facts. The rest is up to you. Because I¨CI can¡¯t be there. I want to, but I can¡¯t. I¡¯m going to take out every single one of my father¡¯s agents here. I¡¯m going to kill everyone he could use to hurt you or your family. And then¡­ and then I¡¯m going to kill myself, so he can never use me to hurt you either.


    ¡°By the time that door unlocks and lets you out, my father¡¯s people will all be dead, and so will I.


    ¡°Goodbye, Cassie.¡±

 Project Owl 14-04

    No.


    No, no, no, no! Fuck no. Absolutely not. I wasn¡¯t going to let this happen. Like hell. I had spent years hating Paige Banners. Years being belittled, attacked, insulted, and demeaned by her while having no idea what the hell I had done to piss her off so much. Years spent like that, only to finally find that it wasn¡¯t either of our faults, that she had behaved that way because of her father¡¯s orders. Not only that, but also that we had been friends before my parents had my memory erased. Paige Banners and I had been friends. And now, now that I finally knew all that, she was going to sacrifice herself? She was going to kill herself to protect me from her dad?


    Fuck. That.


    Of course, the first thing I tried was running to the door. It was a heavy, solid metal thing that stood completely firm as I yanked at it. Naturally. Paige thought she was protecting me, so she wasn¡¯t just going to stick me in some random broom closet with a door I could easily kick down.


    Fortunately, she didn¡¯t know I had superpowers. So, after yanking uselessly at the door a couple times, I stopped and squinted at it. Glancing around, I saw nothing. No cameras hidden up in the corners, nothing like that. Which wasn¡¯t perfect evidence, but I didn¡¯t have time to worry about it. Paige was going to kill herself unless I stopped her. And I was going to stop her.


    First, I started by painting my hands and arms purple, powering that up while shoving at the door as hard as I could. Nothing. The thing didn¡¯t budge at all. Whatever this place was originally built for, the door was meant to hold against something a lot stronger than that.


    Okay, fine. I painted my entire upper torso purple, from my neck down to my waist, front and back, arms and hands included. That time, when I slammed myself as hard as possible up against the door, I felt something. It wasn¡¯t very much, but the damn thing did react, at least. Unfortunately, a few more hits during those ten seconds didn¡¯t accomplish much more than that.


    As my paint vanished, leaving me looking normal again, I took a breath and let it out. Then I blinked. ¡°I¡¯m an idiot,¡± I muttered. I¡¯d been in such a rush, so blinded by my urgency to get out of here, that I had stopped thinking. Quickly, I painted a thick pink line all along the outer edge of the door, the whole way around. Making the part of the door that was actually touching the wall rubber instead of steel would make it a hell of a lot easier to break down.


    That done, I turned, walking away from the door, all the way to the far side of the room. There, I pointed, drawing a line of green paint wide enough to walk on. The second that was done, I put orange paint on my shoes and hands for protection. Then I covered every last remaining bit of myself with purple paint. Everything. From my ankles all the way up to my head. My clothes and exposed skin, including my face and hair, were all purple, aside from my orange hands and shoes. I probably looked completely ridiculous, but fuck it. I didn¡¯t care about fashion at that moment. I didn¡¯t care about anything except for getting the living fuck out of this goddamn room. After a brief second of thought, I added a little puddle of blue about a foot from the actual door.


    Once I¡¯d managed to set all the paint I needed, I focused on my target once more. ¡°Okay, asshole,¡± I snarled at the inanimate object, ¡°let¡¯s see just how strong you are, huh?¡± With that, I took off, activating all the paint at once. The green on the floor sped me up, making me cross the distance almost instantly. At the last second, strengthened and toughened by the purple and orange paints and sped up by the green, I hit the blue puddle, which launched me at the door, itself weakened by the pink paint around the edges where it was attached. A scream escaped me as I slammed myself full force into the damn thing as hard as I possibly could, protected by the orange paint while the green, purple, and blue worked together to let me hit it with a hell of a lot more force than I should¡¯ve been able to.


    Two things happened the moment I hit that pink-painted door. First, it became very clear that I hadn¡¯t actually used enough orange paint after all. It saved me from breaking anything, at least, but it still hurt like hell. It was like¡­ well, it was like slamming myself into a metal door. But at least I didn¡¯t splatter myself into a gooey puddle at that speed and force like I probably should have.


    And the second thing that happened was that the door finally gave out. Yeah, it was enough. As I slammed full-tilt into the fucking thing, it burst open. No, not just open. The whole thing broke free, slamming into the opposite wall just before I slammed into it as well. With a yelp that probably sounded incredibly unsuperhero-like, I rebounded off it before landing on my backside. For a moment, I just laid there, dazed and trying to recover as I stared blankly up at the ceiling of the garage.


    Wait, garage?


    Yeah, I was definitely lying in a garage. A big one, though not quite as big as my family¡¯s. There were fifteen cars and trucks lined up around me, as I lay between a Mercedes-Benz and a Komorebi (they were a luxury electric car company founded by a Tech-Touched in Japan about twelve years ago). A row of four-wheelers and motorcycles took up the space next to the door I¡¯d come out of, leading to a big metal cabinet that stood open to reveal hanging jumpsuits, knee and elbow pads, helmets, and more safety equipment. Finally, there were cameras in this room, up in opposite corners. But they¡¯d been broken, torn free of their mountings and were hanging loose by the cables that were supposed to connect them to the walls. Someone hadn¡¯t wanted anything in here to be recorded.


    So yeah, the garage. My guess was that the room I had been locked up in had started as some kind of mechanic¡¯s office or something at one point.


    Either way, I was out. And dazed (not to mention sore and bruised) as I was, I still remembered the whole point of why I had been so intent on getting out. Paige. Paige was going to kill herself. Well, after she killed a bunch of her father¡¯s goons. But the point was, I had to stop her¨Csave her¨Cwhatever, I had to make sure she didn¡¯t fucking die!


    That thought motivated me enough to ignore the pain. I shoved myself back to my feet, scrambling a bit to grab the side of the nearby car so I could get all the way up. Garage. I was in the garage. On the far end there was the door into the main house itself, while three separate rolling-style doors lay at the opposite end from there to let the cars in and out. Beside those was another human-sized door. It was to that last one that I ran, sprinting as fast as I could. I didn¡¯t care about anything else. Getting out of here and finding Paige was the only thing that mattered.


    Getting through that door was a hell of a lot easier than the first one. I used a little bit of purple paint on my leg, and the thing broke right open as soon as I kicked it and burst through into the open air of the early evening.


    Specifically, I was in the driveway, where I could see¡­ well, no one was here. The cars that had been lined up were all gone, and all of the lights in the nearby mansion were off. It was dark. Clearly the party was over. But it was more than that. The whole place was dead silent. Even the guard shack at the bottom of the driveway looked empty. It was like Paige had told everyone to go home. Not just her guests, but everyone. It was kind of eerie, actually. Seeing what should have been a full, bustling mansion just¡­ empty and dark. It seemed wrong.


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    Or maybe it just felt that way because I knew what the girl was planning to do, why she had sent everyone away.


    Okay, now I was out. I was free. So what the fuck was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to find Paige in order to stop her? Because it was pretty blatantly obvious that she wasn¡¯t here.


    As if in answer to that very question, a sudden burst of static from the nearby bush made me jolt, nearly jumping out of my skin. It was followed by a voice blurting, ¡°¨Chere anymore, just bodies!¡±


    After settling myself out of that particular heart attack, I realized what I was hearing. Radio. I was hearing someone speaking over a radio. Sure enough, lunging that way revealed someone lying in that bush.


    Or rather, it revealed the dead body that was lying there. One of Paige¡¯s family¡¯s security guards was facedown, blood pooling from a traumatic and very unsurvivable head wound. Something had hit him really hard. The voice had come from the radio that he was holding in one hand. It looked like he¡¯d been taken completely by surprise, assaulted from behind by something. Or someone.


    He was dead. He was just¡­ dead. Staring at the body of the man for a moment, I felt bile rise in my throat. She¡¯d killed him. That was the only answer, right? The only thing that matched what I knew. Paige had killed him, just like she¡¯d said she would.


    Paige. The security for the Banners, they must actually work for her father. Her real father.


    Those thoughts and more rushed through my head, even as the radio crackled again with a different voice than the first one. The words were mixed with static. ¡°¨Cmatter¨Cget to¨Ccover the¨Cmainframe¡ªGratiot warehouse. Holed up¨Ccan¡¯t let her¡ªget here now.¡±


    Gratiot. There was an old (really old) warehouse on Gratiot Avenue. That¡¯s where these guys were being called to. I didn¡¯t know why, or what was there that made it so important, but apparently it was where Paige was going.


    So it was also where I was going.


    But first, I pivoted back and ran into the garage once more. Worried as I was about what was going on with Paige, intent as I was that she would not kill herself, I couldn¡¯t expose myself any more than I already had. Using my powers out in the open to get to her? No. No, that would be the absolute end of my life, possibly literally. If people knew who I was, it would get back to my parents, and that¡­ that would be bad. Apocalyptically bad, as far as my life was concerned.


    Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t like I could spare the time to go all the way home to get my actual costume. I was pretty sure whatever was going on over at that warehouse would be over by then. Nor could I call home and have them deliver it, because wouldn¡¯t that be an interesting conversation to have? Hey, Simon, could you go to my room, find a way to move the huge mirror, open the floorboards, get the bag out, and bring it to me? Oh, and don¡¯t look inside it. K, bye!


    Yeah, not likely. Luckily, I did have another option. Once in the garage, I beelined straight for the metal cabinet where I¡¯d seen those jumpsuits and safety equipment. I didn¡¯t know if it was just a bunch of old equipment from Paige growing up, or stuff for guests/friends, or some mixture of both. Whatever, the point was, there was a lot of stuff there, and a quick (frantic) moment of searching scored me a motorcycle jumpsuit that mostly fit, and an old helmet. It wasn¡¯t as good as even my original helmet, let alone the super-special one that Wren had made. But it had a black visor. It would do. It would have to.


    Changing clothes as fast as I could, I shoved the helmet down on my head after zipping up the jumpsuit. Good enough. It was good enough. A pair of motorcycle gloves from the nearby drawer completed the look, and I ran back out. I didn¡¯t have my own helmet. I didn¡¯t have my special shoes, only normal (if expensive) sneakers. I didn¡¯t have¡­  I didn¡¯t have anything other than my powers and this incredibly makeshift costume. But this was all I had time to grab. Even that, the less than a minute it took me to grab and change into those clothes, felt like too much.


    Reaching the driveway once more, I started to run toward the gate, only to stop short. My gaze snapped toward the body I¡¯d found, and I moved that way. Not to help him. He was beyond help, no matter what I might¡¯ve wanted. Instead, I stooped and reached for the radio in his hand. But then I hesitated. He was dead. Taking something out of a dead man¡¯s hand, it was¡­ it was¡­


    I had to help Paige. Grimacing behind the helmet, I grabbed the radio and pulled it free while trying not to gag. Under my breath, I murmured, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Then I was up and turning, racing toward the gate. Like the cameras in the garage, these ones were broken, and the light in the guardhouse was off. There was a body lying there too, and a quick glance that way showed me that he wouldn¡¯t be getting up any sooner than the one I¡¯d taken the radio from. They were both dead, and I was positive there were more bodies than just those two.


    I had no idea how Paige had killed them, but she did. She killed those men and was planning to kill more. Everyone who worked for her father, she¡¯d said. And then herself. I couldn¡¯t let that happen. I just¨CI had to stop her, whatever it took. I wasn¡¯t going to find out that Paige and I had been friends and then immediately lose her again just because she thought she had no choice but to kill herself. Fuck that.


    Reaching the end of the driveway, I used blue paint to launch myself up and over it. In mid-air, I shot red toward a tree in the distance, using that to throw myself further before cutting out the paint so that I wasn¡¯t drawn straight into the tree. Instead, I flipped over, shooting a bit of blue at the branch I was heading toward in order to bounce myself even higher off it.


    There weren¡¯t a lot of houses or traffic out here by Paige¡¯s mansion, of course. Like our family, their property was enormous. But I was able to use the streetlights, signs, and trees to make my way back toward the city proper. In the process, I barely touched each landing spot, bouncing off them immediately to keep going. I¡¯d hit a tree, run two steps, leap again, then hit a street sign with a quick blue spot that hurled me up and forward. I was doing everything I could to keep going. But it still wasn¡¯t enough. Faster, I had to get back to the city faster!


    On the way, I took the time to paint the helmet and jumpsuit both black. I was going to go with white, but I had the feeling that I¡¯d want to blend into the darkness rather than stand out. I had no idea what I was walking (or rather, running and flinging myself) into, other than the fact that it was dangerous. Who Paige¡¯s real father was, how he could control her as much as she said he could, why all these men apparently worked for him even though he was stuck in Breakwater¡­ I didn¡¯t know the answers to any of it. Yet all the questions pointed to this being a situation where taking people by surprise would be a pretty fucking good thing.


    Eventually, I reached the more populated part of the city. Which meant there were a lot more cars, buildings, and other things for me to use, speeding up my progress. I still wasn¡¯t moving as fast as I could have if I¡¯d had my pace-skates (why the fuck didn¡¯t I find a way to bring my costume and hide it somewhere nearby?), but it was something, at least. Speeding myself up with green paint as I raced along the roof of an old apartment building, I frantically tried to remember exactly where Gratiot was. I thought I knew, but what if I was wrong? What if I was going the wrong way? What if¨C


    My phones! I was an idiot. God, of course. Hurriedly, while still sprinting along that roof, I fumbled to get my Touched phone out and looked at it. Bars. It had bars. I had a signal! Which meant I could use the map to make sure I was going the right way.


    But more than that, I could also call for help. But¡­ from who? Who the hell could I ask for help from, exactly? I had no idea what I was walking into here, and if Paige was killing people to stop her father, if she was¨Cif¨C


    Fuck. Stumbling to a stop, I hesitated right there on the corner of the building. Call for help from someone or don¡¯t, which was the right answer? That-A-Way or Pack. Should I call them in or not? If I didn¡¯t and everything went wrong because I didn¡¯t have help¡­ but if I did and it exposed everything¡­


    I had to make a decision, right now.


    And in the end, there was only one real option. Before I could second-guess myself any further, I quickly opened a text conversation with both That-A-Way and Pack, sending, 911 ¨C Need *BOTH OF YOU* to help at Gratiot warehouse ASAP. Plz hurry. Life & death.


    There. Right or wrong, I¡¯d made my decision. I asked for help. Now I just had to get there myself, before it was too late.


    Tucking the phone away once more after checking the map for my direction, I took a breath before hurling myself off the edge of the building, hand outstretched to shoot the paint that would take me closer to the warehouse. Closer to stopping Paige from killing herself.


    This wasn¡¯t over yet. I could get there in time.


    I had to get there in time.


    I had to.


    Please.

 Project Owl 14-05

    My quick search over the phone to figure out where I was going had told me one thing about this warehouse on Gratiot. Back in the old days, like¡­ before I was born, it had been a lot more rundown than it was now. Like most of the city, really. But, also like most of the city, it had grown in the past decade or so. Now, the warehouse part took up a little over twice the space it had before, while the rest of the city block was a parking lot. And there were other large buildings around it that hadn¡¯t existed before. There was a bit on the page I¡¯d looked at that showed the difference between the old neighborhood and the new one, and jeez. It had basically all been completely rebuilt, thanks to the new storage demands as the city itself had been expanding.


    But the way the warehouse had been before didn¡¯t matter. All that mattered was the fact that Paige was inside it now, and she was in trouble. Trouble I couldn¡¯t begin to understand yet, but still trouble.


    There were cars parked in front of the warehouse as soon as I landed on a building nearby, a dozen of them scattered around the lot. It looked like they¡¯d come in a rush, all parking wherever they happened to stop, leaving the vehicles sitting at odd angles to one another. A few were up on the curb, one looked like it had mowed down a small chain link fence on its way in, and another had its front end dangling partway into a ditch. All had doors that were hanging open, where their occupants had leapt out and run inside without bothering to close them.


    Suffice to say, it was pretty obvious that whatever was going on in there, all the people from those cars had come in a damn hurry. Paige¡­ whatever she was doing, she¡¯d managed to get a whole crapton of people to come to this warehouse.


    I had to get in there before she went through with her plan. Whatever else was going on, whatever nasty shit her father had planned, I had to get in there and stop Paige from killing herself. I just¡­ I had to. Not to mention all the people she was planning on killing. They might¡¯ve been bad people, but they were still people. How Paige could even plan on killing that many¨C


    I had to find out what her deal was.


    Standing on the roof of that nearby building, I glanced at my phone while catching my breath. There was no response yet from either Pack or That-A-Way. And I¡¯d heard a lot of sirens as I passed through the city. Something else was obviously going on. Whether it was an intentional distraction, or just more of that war between the gangs, I wasn¡¯t sure. But it was obvious that the people I¡¯d been hoping would come and help were busy.


    Exhaling, I opened the tiny compartment on the back of the phone case, taking out the bluetooth earbud that was there before sticking it in my ear. Hitting the button on it made the earbud sync with the phone, activating the voice changer on it. I may not have my real costume, but at least I would sound like myself. Or rather, not sound like myself.


    That done, I put the phone away and took out the radio I¡¯d grabbed from the¡­ the dead guy back at the house. It had been crackling off and on throughout my trip here. I¡¯d heard men talking about arriving at the warehouse, about being close, about gunfire, about protecting ¡®the vault¡¯ and ¡®the mainframe.¡¯ Though the warehouse looked calm from the outside, it was clear from the radio that it was anything but. There were people shouting, calling out orders and responses about where ¡®she¡¯ was. There was running footsteps, loud banging from heavy things hitting metal, and even gunshots. Some of those were quiet enough that I had a hard time distinguishing what they were outside of context, while others were loud, clearly from guns that weren¡¯t silenced.


    And yet, standing out here looking at the building in question, it was impossible to tell that anything was going on. It looked quiet in there. I might¡¯ve thought that I had the wrong place if it wasn¡¯t for all the cars parked out front. Which were added to as yet another sedan came squealing around the corner. It fishtailed a bit on its way into the lot, spinning around before skidding to a stop. Three guys leapt out, guns in hand. They wore dark suits and ties, looking like any number of high-end private security I¡¯d seen my entire life. But these ones didn¡¯t just stand around talking into earbud radios. They took one quick glance at the street before starting to sprint toward the warehouse, guns held at the ready.


    Nope. No, I wasn¡¯t going to let even more people run in there to add to the chaos. Dropping the still crackling radio back in the pocket and zipping it, I painted my shoes blue to send myself hurtling up and forward. I still didn¡¯t know exactly what was going on in there, or if I was going to get any help from That-A-Way or Pack, but it was time to get involved. I couldn¡¯t wait anymore.


    Apparently the men rushing toward the warehouse were laser-focused on what was going on inside, because none of them seemed to notice my approach as I sailed right over their heads. At least, they didn¡¯t notice until I sent three quick shots of red paint down at each of them, activating all of it together to send the three slamming into one another. They collided hard, collapsing into a heap just as I landed in a crouch in front of them.


    ¡°Hey, guys!¡± I found myself blurting without thinking about it. ¡°Sorry, can I see your invitations? Cuz this is a private party and the host is a real bitch about it.¡±


    The trio immediately reacted by snapping their weapons up and opening fire, but I activated an orange star I¡¯d painted on my back, letting the couple shots they managed bounce off me (stinging a bit) before hitting all three guns with quick shots of red paint. Activating my borrowed, red-painted motorcycle glove yanked their weapons to me, and I tossed the pile aside.


    ¡°Nope, these invitations look forged. You¡¯ll have to come back later.¡±


    The men¡­ did not seem interested in coming back later. Instead, the three of them charged at me, producing some kind of batons. Yeah, they really weren¡¯t in the mood to play nice. Whatever was inside that warehouse, they were willing to attack (including shoot at) me to get to it. This had to be big, even bigger than I¡¯d first thought. It wasn¡¯t just about stopping Paige from killing herself, this had to be something big enough to make all of her father¡¯s men go this fucking insane about protecting it.


    The orange paint had worn off by then, just as the first of the three men reached me, swinging down hard with his baton to hit my shoulder. The guy behind him was coming in lower, aiming for my stomach. They wanted me on the ground, fast, so they could bypass me and get inside. They were obviously really well-trained, and fast. Not to mention pretty well coordinated.


    But they weren¡¯t faster than me with my legs painted green. Instantly, I was quick enough to see the baton descending toward my shoulder in what amounted to slow-motion. I painted four purple stars across my right arm, boosting my strength beyond theirs as I pivoted away from the descending weapon, putting my left hip into the path of the second baton for a moment. My hand caught the first weapon just as it would have hit my shoulder if I¡¯d still been standing there, stripping it down and away from the man to tear it out of his grip. Though it was harder than I expected. The dude was pretty strong.


    With that baton in hand, I snapped it down to hit the second baton hard enough to send it flying out of that guy¡¯s grasp. Simultaneously, my leg kicked up hard into the first man¡¯s stomach. He was obviously wearing some kind of body armor or something, but it was still enough to make him start doubling over with the beginning of an explosive wheeze of air leaving him.


    The boost to my strength wasn¡¯t just good for my arms either. It also meant my legs were strong enough to launch myself up and over the three men while the first two were reacting to losing their weapons (and the one in the lead was doubled over from that kick). Flipping in the air, I landed behind the rear-most guy. Only a bare handful of seconds had passed, so I was still fast and strong. Using that, I lashed out with a kick into the third guy¡¯s back to send him crashing into the first two. All three hit the ground in a heap.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    While they were still recovering, I hurriedly pointed my hands at the ground on one side of them, shooting a spray of pink. Activating it, I lunged that way, shoving my hands down into the now clay-like material. With a grunt, I used my boosted strength to yank the pink-painted pavement up and over the pile of briefly dazed men before they could disentangle themselves.


    The pink pavement I¡¯d yanked up was about eight inches thick and a foot wide. Quickly, I shoved it down into place over the three men, securing the other end against the pavement there. The power ran out, putting the literal piece of parking lot back to normal and leaving the men trapped under what amounted to a loop of asphalt that was pinning them against the ground while they struggled and cursed at me.


    Yeah, it wasn¡¯t perfect. But it would do for now. The men might wriggle free in time, once they started cooperating. For the moment, however, they weren¡¯t a problem. So, ignoring their threats, I hopped over the group and looked toward the warehouse. Three guys at least temporarily dealt with. But Paige was still in there, along with God only knew how many more, given all the cars that were out here.


    I had to get in there. I had to find her. But the warehouse was so huge, how was I supposed to figure out where she was quickly enough to do anything?


    Start at the top. That was my only choice. I had to search the building as fast as possible, starting from the top and working my way down. Hopefully, I¡¯d hear something either over the radio that I still had, or in-person, that would give me a better hint.


    Also hopefully, That-A-Way and Pack would show up soon. Because something told me I was really going to need their help before this was over.


    Ignoring the men who were pinned to the ground by the arch of pavement, I took a running start before using red paint to yank myself all the way up to the top-most window of the warehouse. Hitting the wall next to it, I silently cursed the fact that I didn¡¯t have my real costume with the shoes that would¡¯ve let me stick to this wall without my paint. Fuck it, I was going to have to make do.


    To that end, I took a quick peek through the window, seeing nothing but an empty hallway beyond. It looked like this top floor was offices. A tug at the window accomplished nothing, and my red paint was going to run out any second. So, I used black paint to silence the soon-to-be-shattered glass, then colored my fist purple and punched through it a couple times to clear enough space before hauling myself through.


    Now I was in, and, thanks to the black paint, no one who might¡¯ve been nearby had heard me break out the window. For a moment, I crouched in that cheaply carpeted corridor, listening and watching. There was an elevator almost directly across from me, with a closed door to the right and an open one to the left. The open door led into an office that was only lit by the streetlights coming through the windows. It didn¡¯t look like anyone was in there. Nor could I hear anything at all for the mo¨C


    Gunshots. And they were coming from somewhere below me. It was kind of hard to tell for sure where, given the echo through the building, but yeah. Definitely coming from some lower floor. Grimacing, I gave a quick glance toward the open office before running the other way, to the elevator. Hitting the button made nothing happen. Either it was locked down or¡­ or something. Fuck, fuck! I bolted for the closed door, slamming into it while turning the knob. It opened easily, and I almost fell over into the corridor beyond. This one was also cheaply carpeted, leading to some other rooms. More importantly, there was another door labeled ¡®stairs¡¯ just to the left.


    Another loud, echoing gunshot came as I bolted through that door. The steps beyond were made of cement, clearly intended for function rather than form. They continued down through the three flights in a spiral, with doors at each landing and an open space in the middle. The fact that there were multiple floors here in a warehouse seemed odd for a moment, but I figured this whole side must¡¯ve been the offices. The actual warehouse part was probably further in. Though I sort of wondered why a warehouse needed multiple levels of offices. Was that normal?


    Not that I had time to worry about it for long. Hearing that gunshot, I listened briefly. Shouts. There were shouts coming from the second floor. At least¡­ I thought it was the second floor. I was pretty sure.


    My level of certainty went up a moment later as I saw the first floor door bang open and a quartet of armed guys (also dressed in those same secret service-like suits) rush up the stairs and through that second floor door. They were in such a hurry and so focused on their target that they didn¡¯t notice me peering down from above.


    That¡¯s where Paige was. Grunting, I painted my shoes orange and black, activating both before vaulting over the side of the stairs and dropping. The air rushed past me as I dropped a good thirty feet, landing easily on the second floor railing.


    Ahead of me, the door was open, revealing some kind of computer lab. Wait, a computer lab? Yeah, it was a huge open room filled with those big computer mainframe things. Like, a lot of them. And I was no expert or anything, but they looked pretty advanced. They were in these sleek black shelving units with what looked like bulletproof glass covering the exposed parts and little keypad consoles beside each of those glass bits, as though you had to enter a code to even open it. Even more crazy, it looked like there was also some kind of retinal scan too. A retinal scan and a code to enter? What the hell was this place? Because this was definitely not an ordinary warehouse. Which I really should¡¯ve expected, considering the whole thing with Paige coming here and all these guys being so obsessed with getting to her. There was something important about this place, and I was pretty damn sure it had at least something to do with these computers.


    The room was big enough to house a basketball court, with row after row of those tall black shelves full of computer stuff. I could hear struggling going on clear toward the back, along with the sound of running footsteps as the guys I had just seen go in ahead of me rushed to join their companions. To my left, slumped in the corner, there was a body of another suited man, with blood and¡­ and other bits of his insides splattered across the floor.


    Paige. This was all Paige. She was doing this. How? Why? What did¨CShaking off all those thoughts, I renewed the black paint to keep myself silent and raced around the side of the computers to head for the source of all the commotion.


    There she was. At the far end of the room, I saw Paige, surrounded by what looked like a small mountain of dead guys. Seriously, there had to be like fifteen or so all piled up, along with a few more who were still trying to kill her. Even as I came around the edge of the computers in time to see that, she caught one guy¡¯s wrist, twisted it to make him drop his gun (there was a loud crack as his wrist broke), and lashed out to kick another guy in the knee with enough force to break that as well. As that second guy was still collapsing toward the ground, Paige twisted the first guy¡¯s gun toward his own chest and made him shoot himself.


    Two guys further away who were still up each had their own weapons raised and were about to fire, when I hit them in the backs with a wide spray of red paint, using the other hand to hit the floor behind them with another spot so they were hauled off their feet and slammed down with a pair of yelps.


    There were still a couple more. Paige pivoted toward the nearest one, head snapping just a bit to one side as he fired his own (actually silenced) pistol right past her ear, before her fist hit him in the throat.


    Meanwhile, the other guy was coming at her from the side with some kind of combat knife, and the two guys I had knocked down were already sitting up and trying to shoot again. But I was already racing between them, and I quickly hit the back of their heads with more red before shooting one more blob back the way I¡¯d come, sending them flying off that way. As they went sailing, I painted my back purple before slamming into the guy who was trying to stab Paige. I hit him hard enough to knock the man out as he crashed into the reinforced glass surrounding the nearby computer thing. And the glass didn¡¯t even dent at all.


    By that point, Paige had dealt with her own guy and spun back to me. ¡°Paintball?!¡± she finally blurted, sounding totally taken aback. ¡°What¨Cwhat¡¯re you doing here?¡± Yeah, I had definitely taken her off-guard.


    ¡°I¡­¡± I started, then stopped.


    Paige was still staring. One of the guys started to move, and she lashed out with a kick to his face that put him back down without even looking. ¡°Paintball¡­¡± There was suspicion in her voice by that point. ¡°How did you get here? Wait, that¡¯s not your normal costume. What¡­¡±


    She had tormented me for years. She made me feel like shit, had literally brought me to tears when I was younger because of how I looked, because I was more like a cute little boy than a teenaged girl. She had been the worst thing about that school and had done her level best to make me miserable whenever she could.


    But that¡­ wasn¡¯t her fault. That wasn¡¯t the real Paige. The real Paige had been¡­ my friend? The real Paige had been¨Cno, was willing to literally kill herself to stop from being forced to kill me. I had no idea how her father controlled her, but he did. And the only way, at least in Paige¡¯s mind, to make sure he would never be able to order her to kill me again in a way she couldn¡¯t rules lawyer her way around was by killing herself. And she was willing to do that.


    She was willing to kill herself to protect me.


    And she already knew¡­ more than I did about my family¡¯s business, and was against it. She¡¯d been working against them.


    So, I said nothing. I remained completely silent, even as I reached up to the borrowed motorcycle helmet¡­


    And took it off.

 Project Owl 14-06

    I had no idea how long Paige and I stood there staring at one another after I took off that helmet. It felt like hours. Hours where the two of us simply stood in silence. I could see the array of emotions and competing thoughts that played across the other girl¡¯s face. Confusion, disbelief, and much more made her expression twist. Once or twice, she opened her mouth as though to say something, but nothing emerged. For once in this entire thing, Paige was the one who looked completely lost. She was shocked, that much was certain. She¡¯d had absolutely no idea who I really was under that helmet. And now that she did, it seemed like her brain had blue-screened.


    Of course, I wasn¡¯t doing much better. The terror of exposing myself to anyone, let alone someone who had (however unwillingly) been such a horrible bitch to me for so long, left me practically quivering in place. God, fuck, what was I doing? What was I doing?! What if this was a mistake? What if she had been playing me this whole time¡­ somehow? What if I¡¯d just thrown my life away by revealing my secret to Paige Banners?! What the hell was wrong with me?


    Yeah, I had a lot of doubts, to say the least. And a lot of emotions. It didn¡¯t matter how illogical they were, how little sense the idea that Paige had somehow manufactured all this just to fuck with me made. None of that mattered. I was running on pure emotion in those few seconds. And my emotions were doing a real bang-up job of showing me all kinds of worst-case scenarios.


    Approximately seven years later (my mental state might have been exaggerating the length slightly), I finally managed to find my voice just enough to quietly say, ¡°So, I guess we have a lot to talk about.¡± Yeah, the words sounded absurd given the enormity of what was going on, but I had to say something. Especially the way Paige was still gaping at me like a fish.


    At the very least, it also prompted her to find her own voice. ¡°You¨C¡± After that single word, Paige¡¯s head shook, like she was trying to clear it before trying again. ¡°You¡¯re really¨C¡± Again, she stopped. That time, however, it was because her hand was snapping out to grab my arm. Before I even knew what was happening, Paige was yanking me off my feet and tossing me to the floor behind her while snapping a quick, ¡°Get down!¡± In the next instant, a semi-muffled gunshot rang out, before the bullet struck the wall right near where my head had been.


    Fuck, right, there were still bad guys here! Behind me, I heard Paige launch herself at wherever that shot had come from. Scrambling a bit, I managed to shove the helmet back on my head and turned in time to see the blonde girl catch one of those suited guys by the wrist, shoving it to the side so his next shot went far wide. In the next instant, a gleaming knife appeared in her other hand as she shoved the blade right into the man¡¯s throat. Blood spurted out as he fell.


    ¡°Paige!¡± Leaping back to my feet, I took a quick glance around to make sure we weren¡¯t about to be immediately jumped by another guy before lunging that way. ¡°Stop!¡± My hands caught her arm, turning the girl to face me. Somehow, it felt safer doing so from behind the helmet, even if she did already know who I was. I stared at her. ¡°You can¡¯t just keep killing all these guys! I know they¡¯re bad, but¡­ but you can¡¯t just kill all of them. And you can¡¯t¨C¡± My voice caught in my throat while I grabbed the other girl tightly by both shoulders. ¡°You can¡¯t kill yourself.¡±


    For a moment, Paige just stared at me in silence. I could, yet again, see a lot playing out in her eyes. A lot of things she didn¡¯t say, or thought of saying and didn¡¯t know how to put words to. Finally, she murmured a soft, ¡°Cassie, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s you.¡± With those quiet words, her hands rose to touch either side of the helmet before using her thumbs to push up the black visor so she could see my eyes. ¡°All this¡­ everything that¡­ you were¡­ it was always¡­¡± Visibly swallowing, she shook her head. ¡°It was you. All that time, it was you. You¡¯re Paintball. Everyone thinks¨Cbut you¡¯re actually¨Cit was you. It was you.¡± There was a mixture of awe and bafflement in her words.


    ¡°Believe me,¡± I managed in a weak voice, ¡°I was pretty confused by all of it too. More than you are, I think. Pretty sure you know more about what¡¯s going on than I do.¡±


    Flinching a bit, Paige quickly blurted, ¡°I¨CI¡¯m sorry. Everything¨Call the stuff¨Call that¨C¡±


    ¡°I saw the video,¡± I quietly assured her. ¡°I saw it. Like I said, you can¡¯t kill yourself. You can¡¯t. And you can¡¯t just keep killing all these people. I know they¡¯re bad, but they¡¯re still people.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± To that, Paige shook her head. ¡°They¡¯re not people, Cassie. They¡¯re biolems.¡±


    Well, I¡¯d had a lot of thoughts about what Paige would say next, but that definitely wasn¡¯t on the list. ¡°Biolems?¡± I echoed.


    ¡°Biological golems,¡± she explained. ¡°It¡¯s what my father¨Clook.¡± With that, she turned and grabbed the slumped body of the guy she had just killed. To my utter horror, Paige hauled him up a bit, then drove that knife of hers down into the top of his head. It must¡¯ve been pretty damn sharp and she must¡¯ve been pretty strong, because the blade went right through the skull without any apparent resistance.


    Quickly, I made a sound of disgust before starting to raise my hand to stop her. Then I stopped, as Paige quickly cut a hole in the man¡¯s head and tore it open. Horrifying as that was, I couldn¡¯t help but see the inside where his brain was.


    Or rather, where his brain should have been. Instead, there was a small metal orb, about the size of a baseball, with various colored flashing lights over it. Wires ran from the orb into the rest of the head and lower, toward the¡­ the spine, I supposed.


    Reaching in, Paige grabbed the metal ball and yanked it out with a grunt of effort. It tore free, pulling a handful of those wires with it. ¡°Biological golems,¡± she repeated. ¡°They don¡¯t think, they don¡¯t feel, they don¡¯t make choices. They follow orders. His orders. My father¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Your dad¡­ he¡­ he¡¯s Touched,¡± I managed. ¡°He built these things?¡± That raised even more questions. And a few other thoughts that made my mind reel.


    ¡°He¡¯s Tech-Touched,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°His focus is on biology, on medical things, on¡­ on this.¡± She gestured to the body of the so-called ¡®biolem¡¯ before releasing her grip to let it slump back down. The metal orb was still in the hand she was using to gesture with. ¡°This and a whole lot more. These are his foot soldiers, Cassie. They¡¯re not built with any free will, no personality, nothing like that. They¡¯re built to do what he tells them to, and to look like real people.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I met her gaze. ¡°Is¡­ is that what he did with you? I mean, except with personality and all, because umm, you¡¯ve definitely got one of those. But you said you didn¡¯t have any choice but to obey his orders. And you¡­ you¡¯re stronger and faster than you should be. I just¨Call that stuff¨Cyou fought all those people and you won. You¡¯re¨Care¡­ are you¡­?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m different,¡± Paige informed me, sounding like this was all really hard for her to talk about. The words came out as though she was forcing them. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ exactly a¨C¡± Before she could finish, the sound of running footsteps drew our attention toward the door I had come through. We couldn¡¯t see it thanks to all the servers in the way, but there were definitely people coming. A lot of them, from the sound of it. Or rather, more of these biolems, as Paige put it.


    Worse, there were some coming from the other direction as well. There must¡¯ve been a door at the far end of the room, because it sounded like an army was closing in on us from both sides.


    ¡°He had more than I thought,¡± Paige murmured. ¡°He sent them all to stop me, to stop¨C¡± She looked to me, a rush of emotions playing across her face. ¡°Cassie¨C¡±


    The first guy came around the corner then, gun raised. Quickly, I painted a big orange smiley face on my chest, grabbing Paige to yank her around so the shots hit my back. ¡°We deal with these guys!¡± I blurted out loud, even as more rushed to join in. ¡°Then we talk!¡±


    With that, I painted my gloves purple, grabbing Paige by her arms and lifting her before giving a heave to throw the girl up and over the heads of the three guys who came sprinting in from that direction. She landed behind them while they were still trying to pivot back that way.


    Paige had those guys. I had to trust that Paige had them, because I had my own problems to deal with. Namely, the guy who was still shooting me in the back, and the three friends who had joined him. Four guys. Or four biolems. Whatever. The point was, they were very intent on killing the two of us.


    Just before my orange paint could wear off, I added green to my legs and used that, coupled with the remaining strength from my purple gloves, to hurl myself at the nearest guy. His last shot hit my left shoulder hard enough that I knew there would be a bruise there. But I ignored the pain and caught his extended wrist, twisting it hard enough to break so that he dropped his gun.


    Behind him, the other guys were starting to shoot. Clearly, they didn¡¯t care that he was in the way. And why would they? If Paige was right, they were all mindless drones following orders.


    But I couldn¡¯t think about that right now. Instead, I used the last of the purple strength to hoist this guy up and bodily threw him into the three guys just before they could shoot. They all hit the floor together and I quickly sprayed them with red paint before they could disentangle themselves. Another shot of red went to the far back of the room and all four men were yanked that way. None of them screamed or even yelped. They were all silent while being hurtled the length of the room to crash into the wall. It was kind of creepy, to be honest.


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    Nor did it really seem to slow them down very much. Even as they collapsed to the floor, the quartet were already separating from one another and picking themselves up. The three whose guns I hadn¡¯t taken even still had them, and were pointing them as they straightened.


    Suddenly, there were four quick gunshots from just beside me. Paige was there, pointing a weapon she had taken from one of the others. And with each of those four shots, a matching hole appeared in the center of each man¡¯s forehead. They all collapsed like puppets whose strings had been cut.


    ¡°Not real!¡± the other girl snapped at me. Blood was covering the front of her shirt and most of her face, giving her the look of a feral, primitive warrior. Well, except for the whole gun thing. ¡°They¡¯re not real people! They can¡¯t feel, they can¡¯t think, they can¡¯t do anything except what they¡¯re programmed to do. They¡¯re flesh and blood, but robots. They¡¯re robots, Ca¨CPaintball! They¡¯re not going to stop just because you hit them a few times. You have to break them!¡±


    ¡°I¨CI¡¯m sorry, I just¨Cthey look like people!¡± I stammered. ¡°I can¡¯t just kill¨CI mean¨C¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not killing them,¡± she informed me flatly. ¡°Because they¡¯re not alive. They never have been. They¡¯re mindless drones, I swear. They don¡¯t¨Cdown!¡± Pivoting with me, Paige fired a quick shot into the face of yet another incoming biolem who had been aiming at us from behind one of the rows of computer servers.


    ¡°God, how many of these things did your dad make?!¡±  I reflexively blurted.


    ¡°Too many,¡± she responded darkly. ¡°That¡¯s why we have to get to the source. The main server.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯re all these?¡± My hands waved quickly to encompass the room full of computers.


    ¡°Part of it,¡± she replied. ¡°But not the part we need. It¡¯d take too long to do anything here, trust me. If we¡¯re going to stop Project Owl, we need to get to the heart of things. That¡¯s this way. Now come on!¡± With that, her hand moved to grab mine and she started to run.


    Quickly, I kept pace with her. ¡°What the hell is Project Owl?!¡± I demanded as we sprinted past row after row of computer servers and made it to a small door that was almost hidden behind two larger server banks. Paige was already lashing out with a foot, kicking the door open. It led to a wide hallway with no windows or decorations of any kind. The floor, walls, and ceiling were made of solid concrete. This hall was all about function, not form.


    ¡°It¡¯s an acronym!¡± the other girl informed me quickly, even as the two of us moved through the hall. It was L-shaped. At the far end, it turned to the left, revealing a heavy, vault-like door directly in front of us. ¡°It stands for Organic Wonderwork Legacy. It¨C¡±  Turning back toward me then, Paige looked as though she wanted to take another hour or so to actually explain everything, and the fact that we didn¡¯t have time for that was frustrating her. Finally, she simply added, ¡°It¡¯s my father¡¯s big plan. You remember that little metal ball I took out of that thing¡¯s head back there? My dad wants to make advanced versions of those for everyone in the world, and let them upload their brains into them. Then they could have bodies built for themselves that can look like anything. Humanoid, animal, alien, giants, anything! They just have the body built, install the orb that has their brain and personality and all that, and off they go. They could even have multiple bodies and switch between them. He wants to give everyone in the world a perfect body, and put them in those little orbs so they can live forever. I mean, as long as the orb survives. If the body wears out, they just transfer to a new one. He wants to create immortality in perfect bodies that allows everyone to be exactly what they want to be, forever.¡±


    For a moment, I just stared at her. ¡°Um. What a¡­. monster? Wait, is he the good guy in thi¨C¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not a good guy,¡± Paige instantly snapped. ¡°One, he wants you and your family dead. Two, there¡¯s problems with his system. There¡¯s¨Che¡¯s¨Clook, I can¡¯t explain it all right now. But even though his goals might sound great, you really don¡¯t want to put someone as crazy as he is in charge of literally every life on the planet. How long do you think it would take him to just stamp out the ones he decided he didn¡¯t like? Giving one person that much power, especially someone like him¡­ it¡¯s a bad idea.¡±


    While I was processing that, she turned back to the big vault door, focusing on a keypad next to it. ¡°This is the part that could take a long time. I don¡¯t know the password, so I have to do this the hard way.¡±


    ¡°Not that long,¡± I quickly put in, already pointing both hands at the door. Focusing, I started to spray a circle of paint on it a couple feet in diameter. As Paige watched in confusion, I painted my fist purple before punching into the pink bit, starting to tear it out. ¡°Help me with this?¡±


    She got it then, and the two of us started to tear out a hole in the door. I had to spray a couple more times, given how thick the thing was. But eventually, I managed to tear a full hole all the way through and into the room beyond.


    Paige went first, shoving herself through the hole. I squirmed through right after her before straightening up to look around. Now we were in a circular room about twenty feet across. In the middle there was a two-foot-wide red obelisk-looking thing with a computer console attached to it, while more servers were mounted to the walls on all sides.


    ¡°What¡­ the hell is this place?¡± I muttered. ¡°What is all this for?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the heart of everything,¡± came the response. ¡°This whole place¨Cit¡¯s all part of his plan. In other parts of the building, there¡¯s automated systems building more of those biolems, and working on more advanced versions of the orbs. Ones that can hold full human minds. Like I said, the ones we¡¯ve faced so far are running on his default programming. But he wants to put actual human minds in the new ones. So this place is important. There¡¯s redundancy after redundancy built into it. But if I can destroy this part here, he¡¯s done in this city. He can¡¯t do anything else. This is his pride and joy, the center of everything, the brain of his lab. This is the place I didn¡¯t know about before. Without this, he¡¯s dead in the water and can¡¯t build any more of his biolems.¡±


    ¡°So we destroy it,¡± I agreed. ¡°Then we get out of here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± she insisted. ¡°I can blow it up, but I¡­ there¡¯s security measures, Cassidy. If I tell it to blow up and then leave, the self-destruct will just be disabled. I have to be here when it goes, up to the very last second. Otherwise, the system will just turn off the self-destruct.¡±


    For a moment, I stared at her. ¡°You mean you have to be standing here when the place blows up. That¡¯s what you meant when you said you¡¯d kill yourself.¡±


    ¡°That and me being dead means my father can never use me to hurt you again,¡± Paige said in a soft voice.


    ¡°You being dead would hurt me!¡± I quickly insisted. ¡°It¨CI don¡¯t have anyone else to talk to about¨CI can¡¯t¨CPaige, you¡¯re not dying. We have to find another way. There has to be another way.¡±


    For a moment, it looked like she was going to argue. Then Paige hesitated before quietly murmuring, ¡°There¡­ is a way I could shut the security brain down directly so it can¡¯t turn off the self-destruct. But to do that, I¡¯d have to plug directly into it.¡±


    ¡°Plug directly into it?¡± I echoed, frowning a bit behind the helmet.


    She nodded, looking a little uncertain and self-conscious. ¡°Cassidy, I¨CI¡¯m like them. Like those biolems. Only different, more advanced. I¡¯m pretty much a real person. I mean my brain is, my mind is, my personality¡­ my self is real. My dad¡­he¨Che had a wife and a daughter, a little girl. But they got caught in a Collision Point. His wife was killed and his daughter, she was just a toddler, was hurt bad. Catastrophically bad. He built her a new body, but it was taking too long. Back then, it took a lot longer. He was still new to all of it. It was taking longer than she had, so he had to try to copy her mind, her personality, and hold it somewhere until he had the new body ready. That¡¯s when he came up with the orbs. He had the idea of copying minds over to them, but he had to test it first. I was the test, the first prototype when he tried to copy his daughter¡¯s mind. It¨CI wasn¡¯t a perfect copy. But I wasn¡¯t supposed to be. I was just his first attempt while he ironed out the wrinkles. Then he was going to copy her full brain. But¡­ but she died before he could. She died, and all he had was me, the incomplete copy. He filled in the blanks as much as he could with data from other brains he copied, but even then I was never going to be the real thing. I was just based on his daughter.


    ¡°The point is, he copied most of his real daughter¡¯s brain over to create me. Then she died, and he didn¡¯t¨CI think he never got over the fact that I wasn¡¯t a perfect copy. I was just what he was left with. I was the closest thing he had to his real daughter, but I wasn¡¯t close enough for him. He never forgave me for not being his real daughter. But he had to use me or have nothing, so he uploaded me into the body he made for his daughter. It was based on her DNA, so I¡¯d grow up looking the same way she would, and¡­ and you think I¡¯m a freak now, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I was staring at her. Because that was a lot to take in. Seriously, what the fuck. Her dad lost his wife and was about to lose his daughter, so he built a new body to transfer her into, but she died before he could finish, so he had to use the prototype mind transfer that wasn¡¯t a perfect copy of her brain and put that in what was supposed to be his real daughter¡¯s new body? And now Paige¨Cthe girl I knew as Paige, she was actually a¡­ a¡­ I¡­ What the fuck.


    Swallowing, I shook my head. ¡°Paige, trust me, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re a freak. I don¡¯t¨Cnever mind. Just do that thing you said. Plug in directly.¡±


    ¡°But if I do that,¡± she insisted, ¡°it¡¯ll mean I¡¯m completely shut down out here. I couldn¡¯t do that before because those biolems would just come in while I was helpless and¡­ and stop me.¡±


    Meeting her gaze, I quietly replied, ¡°But you can do it now. I¡¯m here. I¡¯m right here, Paige. I won¡¯t let them stop you. I won¡¯t let them hurt you. Trust me.¡±


    Paige, for a moment, looked completely vulnerable and afraid. Then she straightened a bit, giving me a short nod. ¡°I do. I trust you, Cassidy. But¡­ but be careful. Please be careful. And remember what I said, they won¡¯t stop unless you break them completely.¡±


    ¡°I remember,¡± I murmured. ¡°Paige, we can do this. You can do this. Plug in, shut this place down. I¡¯ll keep you safe. I swear. I won¡¯t let them stop you and I won¡¯t let them hurt you.¡±


    With one more nod, Paige turned back to the console. Her hand reached out, pressing against the keypad. I saw a few little wires emerge from her fingertips, snaking their way through the keypad and into the console itself. A second later, her eyes went dull. It was hard to explain, except that I could tell she wasn¡¯t seeing anything out here. She had loaded herself into the system.


    A second later, I heard lots of running footsteps, even as the big vault door began to swing itself open to allow the incoming biolems entrance.


    Okay. They were coming, and Paige was completely offline. I had to keep her safe long enough for the girl to shut this place down. She was completely helpless, and from the sound of those running footsteps, we were about to be attacked by a small army. It was up to me to give Paige the time she needed to finish this.


    I turned to the opening door and set myself to welcome them.

 Project Owl 14-07

    One job. I had one job. Keep Paige safe from the army of guys¨Cwell, sort of guys¨C who were about to come through that vault door. Simple to say, maybe not so simple to actually do. Paige was frozen behind me, unable to move and apparently blind and deaf to what was going on out here. If anyone actually got to her, she would be utterly defenseless. A stray shot, anyone who happened to get past me even for a moment, anything like that could leave her hurt or dead.


    I couldn¡¯t let that happen. So, maybe the trick was not to let these guys even make it into the vault at all. With that thought, I used green paint for speed, sprinting at the door even as it was opening. Right when there was enough space for the biolem in the lead to start to step in, I used blue paint to launch myself that way, crashing into him with enough force to send him half-flailing backwards into two of his companions. All three hit the nearby wall, while I stumbled for a step or two before catching myself. With no one pushing it, the vault door stayed where it was, partly open with a hole in the middle where Paige and I had used pink paint to break our way in.


    ¡°Sorry guys,¡± I blurted quickly while reaching back, grabbing the handle of the door, and yanking it firmly shut behind me, ¡°bank¡¯s closed for the day. You¡¯ll just have to come back during regular business hours. And you might wanna come early. Otherwise the old ladies¡¯ll be here, and trust me, you do not want to get caught behind one of them counting out pennies and nickels so they can get to the store for that new milk sale everyone¡¯s all hyped about.¡±


    Yeah, apparently they didn¡¯t think that was funny. Nor did the four guys who were just coming around the corner of that L-shaped hall to join them, guns raised. Seven nearly identical guys (they were dressed the same and had slightly different face and hair features, but it all blended together), all of them apparently these unthinking, unfeeling biolems whose only purpose was to follow orders. And those orders, in that moment, were to get into that vault and stop Paige.


    The only obstacle standing between them and fulfilling those orders was me. And their way of removing that obstacle was to point their guns and immediately open fire. No negotiation. No demands or arguments. Nothing like that. Once they saw that I was in the way, all seven of them simply snapped their weapons up and started shooting without even looking at each other.


    But I was ready. They might not have thought my joke was funny, but talking had still served its actual purpose of giving me time to make sure my paint was all filled up. Before the biolems had even started to raise their weapons, I was already activating the orange hand with middle finger raised that I had painted onto my chest, while the blue paint on the bottom of my shoes launched me up toward the ceiling. Shots rebounded off me, hard enough to sting. Whatever actual weapons these guys were using, they were really strong. And the guys were really good shots. Even with my quick launch upward, I was still hit half a dozen times before I even managed to invert myself. The shots hurt, but I didn¡¯t care. Once I managed to flip myself over, my feet hit the ceiling and the blue paint on my shoes kicked in once more, launching me down and forward to crash bodily into the biolem who had been running for the hole I¡¯d left in the door.


    I collided hard enough with the guy to slam him into the ground and nearly knock the wind out of myself. I would¡¯ve pancaked if it wasn¡¯t for the still-active orange paint. The guy himself was knocked flat on his back, the gun sliding away. Not that the loss of his gun or the impact of me colliding with him and of his back colliding with the ground actually affected the biolem that much. His hands suddenly grabbed my throat, holding tight as he stared at me impassively. Meanwhile, two of the guys ran past on either side toward the door, while the remaining four took aim at me with those guns that stung me even through my orange paint from further away.


    Just before the four guys surrounding me opened fire, I painted my entire back, including the rear of the helmet, pink and then immediately dismissed the effect. In the next instant, the bullets from the guns hit¡­ and ricocheted off. I was using that trick where cancelling my pink paint early left the affected object super-bouncy. Between that and the last couple seconds of my orange paint, I was left unharmed (Well, relatively. It still stung pretty bad and I would have welts), while my makeshift costume repelled the bullets away from me.


    Yeah, it was a trick I wouldn¡¯t use in most situations, because I had no way of stopping the bullets from hitting and killing someone. But as had been thoroughly demonstrated to me, these biolems weren¡¯t thinking, feeling beings. They were basically robots without any free will or personality. They were as close to mindless as you could get while still following orders.


    And yet, even then, I still felt guilty about hearing the bullets rebound off me to hit them. But I¡¯d promised Paige I would keep them off her, and I was damn sure going to keep that promise.


    To that end, I painted my gloves purple and grabbed hold of the hands that were currently trying to choke me, prying his grip off my throat before, with what was probably literally the last second of orange paint left, slamming my helmeted head down into his face. Biological robot or not, that was enough to make him go limp briefly, and I quickly launched myself into a backward roll to get away from him.


    Three of the other four guys around me weren¡¯t down yet. They were bleeding from various holes, and one guy was on the ground, unmoving. But they weren¡¯t down. My attention, however, was on the two other biolems who were almost to the vault door. Quickly, even as I rolled, my hand snapped out to fire a spray of red that caught them both. Activating it made the two slam into one another, slowing them down briefly while I was still coming back to my feet.


    ¡°Clearly,¡± I blurted out loud as the three still-standing figures pivoted toward me to fire again, ¡°we all need a lesson on what¨C¡± The three men opened fire, while I painted a pair of orange star-shapes on either arm and flung myself at the nearest guy. With shots rebounding off me (adding to the horrible bruises I was going to have when this was over, if I wasn¡¯t just dead), I caught hold of the guy¡¯s extended arm. The strength boost from the purple paint was still there, allowing me to shove the arm around so that his next shot hit one of the guys by the door in the back while he was still picking himself up. A second later, I extended the purple paint over my entire torso, raising my strength enough to easily hurl the guy over my shoulder to crash into the other biolem by the door.


    In the next instant, two more shots hit my back with so much force despite my protective paint they still made me stumble forward with a yelp. Oww, oww! Fuck, oww!


    No. Don¡¯t stop. Don¡¯t think about the pain. I couldn¡¯t afford to. If I stopped, if I slowed down, they would get through the door. And if they got to Paige, if I failed Paige after promising I would protect her¡­


    I wouldn¡¯t fail.


    ¡°A lesson on what closed means!¡± I quickly shouted at them. ¡°That¡¯s what you need!¡±


    Pivoting, I let the two men behind see that I¡¯d actually stripped their buddy¡¯s gun out of his hand before I threw him. I had a gun. A gun. What the fuck kind of superhero used a gun? Especially when I was trying to be better than my parents. Especially when¨C


    It didn¡¯t matter. They weren¡¯t real people. With the gun in my hand, I pointed it at the nearest of the two guys and pulled the trigger.


    I missed by about a mile. Oh, and I wasn¡¯t ready for the kickback of the gun, so it leapt out of my hand and clattered across the floor away from me. Fantastic.


    It did, however, make the two standing biolems, and the one who was picking himself off the ground, pause for just a moment. Which was totally my intention, yup.


    Fuck it, stick with what worked. Pointing my free hands, I hit the two standing guys with red paint, then pivoted and shot more red at two of the guys by the vault. Activating the paint, I brought the ones over there flying backward, yanking them off their feet to come crashing into their companions.


    Which left one guy by the door, the one I had made the other biolem shoot. He was picking himself up, heedless of the bullet wound in his side as he moved for the hole in the vault. God damn it, these things had one-track minds.


    A spray of yellow slowed the guy down, while green sped me up. Just as I reached him, the purple paint was about to wear off. But it stuck around long enough for me to catch hold of the guy by his arm and waist, lifting him off his feet and driving him toward the door he was so interested in.


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    Put them down hard, Paige had said. The only way to stop them was to end them. They weren¡¯t alive. They weren¡¯t really alive. They weren¡¯t people. They weren¡¯t¨C


    I pulled back, just a little. It was reflex. My intention had been to slam the biolem¡¯s head into the door hard enough to make the skull split open like a melon. But at the last second, I pulled back slightly. It still hit hard, but not as much as I intended. Even being told that these things weren¡¯t real, even being told that they weren¡¯t actual people with feelings, that they were little more than mindless machines, I still just¡­ reflexively held back.


    Still, the thing¡¯s head collided with the door hard enough to put him on the ground, bleeding profusely. I had to hope that was enough for now. Had to, because the others had already picked themselves up and were rushing my way.


    Paige was right. I had to put them down, had to put aside my squeamishness and make sure they stayed down. It was the only way. Otherwise, they would just keep coming no matter what, would just keep trying to get past or through me to¡­ to stop her.


    A quick spray of blue paint along the floor launched all five incoming figures straight up into the ceiling before they could shoot again. Before they hit the ground, I was there. With renewed purple arms and orange legs, I caught hold of one guy by the back of his head, slamming his face hard down into my rising knee. Then I grabbed the waistband of his pants, leaving a red handprint there as I hurled the guy as hard I could against the far wall. He slammed into that wall while I used a quick spray of red that hit three more of these guys and sent them flying after him.


    One more guy was on the floor at my feet, starting to pick himself up. Before he could, however, I slammed my foot, still empowered by my purple paint, down as hard as I could manage into the man¡¯s back. He was knocked prone before I kicked him, just as hard, in the side, sending him flying wildly into the nearby wall.


    The guy I¡¯d run headfirst into the vault door was starting to pick himself up. God damn it, Paige was right. They wouldn¡¯t stay down. Whatever I did, they wouldn¡¯t stay down. I had to kill¨C destroy them. It was the only way, but¡­ but¡­


    Not real. They weren¡¯t real. Grimacing behind the helmet, I used the last of my purple strength to catch the guy by the back of his neck, yanking him away from the hole before slamming my fist into his stomach. The impact knocked him down. But he got right back up. The guys I¡¯d sent flying to the far wall were picking themselves back up. Everyone was getting up. They would keep getting back up as long as I didn¡¯t just finish them. Break them. Put them down.


    So why was it so hard? Intellectually, I knew they weren¡¯t real people. They didn¡¯t feel things, didn¡¯t think things. They were machines who followed the orders of a psychopath who wanted me and my whole family dead. Finishing them wasn¡¯t like killing a person, it was like¡­ breaking a machine. Right?


    But I couldn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t make myself¨C


    Then I saw it, motion from the corner of my eye. The biolem I had kicked into the wall had managed to crawl around behind me. He was leaning up at the hole, gun in hand as he pointed it that way. Pointed it at Paige.


    He was going to shoot Paige.


    The scream tore its way out of my throat, even as I flung myself that way. In mid-lunge, my costume changed color entirely. The legs, torso, helmet, and arms turned purple, with green highlights, shoes, and gloves. An orange bolt of lightning appeared on my chest, with a matching one over my back. Before I¡¯d even reached the man in my lunge, I¡¯d covered my entire makeshift costume with those colors, and activated all at once.


    An instant before the biolem would have fired, one of my hands caught the arm holding the gun while the other caught the back of his neck. In the same motion, I ripped the hand sideways, making his shot into the room go wide, while also shoving forward on the back of his neck to slam his head into the side of the vault door.


    His arm snapped. I felt it snap. With purple covering as much of my body as it was, I nearly ripped his entire arm off. It definitely broke. And not just in one place. I could feel the arm rip out of its socket with several loud cracks. Meanwhile, his forehead basically caved in from being slammed so hard into the solid steel vault door. If he was human, the man almost certainly would¡¯ve been killed by that. Or at least left pretty braindead.


    But I wasn¡¯t thinking about that. All I was thinking was that I had to stop these guys, had to put them down for good. Just like I¡¯d promised Paige. My dithering about, my hesitation and reluctance, had nearly gotten her killed, even after everything I¡¯d said.


    No more hesitation. With the suddenly limp body of the figure I had just attacked in my hands, I pivoted and hurled him at the others even as they tried to cross the space between us. While his body was still flying sideways through the air at them, I chased after it, running straight at them with the green paint still boosting my speed. Only a couple seconds had passed since I activated all of it.


    As hard and fast as I had hurled that biolem, it caught two of the five guys straight on, hitting them with enough force that the pair were knocked down. The other three were already shooting at me, but I wasn¡¯t paying attention to the sting of the bullets. Not right then. My boosted speed put me right in front of them, as I caught one of their extended wrists and snapped it hard to the side. Snap being the appropriate word, as the wrist broke like a twig.


    In the same motion, I lashed out with a foot, kicking the biolem beside this one with so much force, he was hurled several feet back and into the air, crashing into the wall once more. Pivoting while maintaining my grip on the broken wrist of the one I had caught hold of, I yanked him off his feet and violently slammed his head into the face of the last still-standing guy. It was like a headbutt, only using someone else¡¯s head. Which seemed a lot safer all around.


    While that last guy stumbled, blood spurting from his nose and mouth, I kept my grip on the one I was holding. He was starting to struggle, but my foot abruptly connected with the side of his knee so hard, his leg almost snapped in half. Before he could fall, however, I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his head again into the face of the one that was still reeling from the first time I¡¯d done that. Then I released him, but before either could recover, I kicked the guy I¡¯d been holding in the back with everything I could manage. The force launched him and the other guy into the concrete wall, noticeably cracking it before they both fell motionless to the floor.


    Quickly, I turned back toward the one I¡¯d kicked into the opposite wall a second earlier. He¡¯d recovered, of course. So had the two who had been hit by their flying companion. Those ones were picking themselves up, but I had a moment. A moment I used by shooting a quick bit of red into the face of the guy who had just peeled himself off the wall, matching it with red on my glove. Activating that yanked the biolem straight to me, as my fist collided with his face hard enough to cave that in. Seriously, there was blood and¡­ and pieces of shattered bone or something all over my glove. I wasn¡¯t just strong like this, I was really god damn strong.


    The guy whose face I had just caved in with a single punch (well, sort of a punch) hit the ground, and I kicked him hard, sending his body sliding across the floor to trip up one of the two guys who had picked themselves up just then as he started to run toward the hole. He fell flat on his back, while I launched myself to collide with the other guy.


    Paint was running out. It had to be. Everything I¡¯d done in just the short ten seconds I had for all this power. But I could finish this. I had to finish it. My momentum carried me into the standing guy, taking him to the ground with me on top of him. Before he could recover, I clasped my fists together and slammed them down into his face once, twice, three times.


    Ow. Ow, that last one hurt. My paint was gone. The power ran out. I was perched on top of a motionless body.


    But I wasn¡¯t done. That last guy, the one I had tripped up by kicking that body at him. He was back on his feet, heading for the hole. Quickly, I snapped my hand up to shoot red paint at him.


    Nothing. I was out of paint. I was out. I was out! And he was about to get to the hole.


    Without thinking, my hand grabbed one of the guns off the floor. I snapped it up. Do or die time.


    No, do or Paige died.


    Gripping the gun with both hands and bracing myself for the kickback this time, I fired. Not once, not even twice. I emptied the magazine into the man, firing over and over again into his back. I barely noticed as the man fell, barely noticed the sound of the semi-silenced bangs becoming simple clicks as ammo ran out. I just kept pulling the trigger several more times after that.


    Then the gun fell from my grip as I sat there, half-slumped over the body of one biolem, with the body of another lying about a foot from the hole with maybe a half dozen bullets in his back.


    Silence filled the air. Silence, that was, aside from my ragged, panting breaths. I felt like I was going to die. Felt like I almost wanted to, after those few seconds of hell. After what I¡­ after what I¡­


    No, I didn¡¯t kill anyone. They weren¡¯t real. They were basically machines. Biological machines, but machines. They were¡­ they weren¡¯t¡­


    ¡°Paintball.¡± It was Paige. She was back. Somehow, she¡¯d extricated herself from the hole and was crouched in front of me before I¡¯d even noticed. Fuck, how out of it was I?


    ¡°We need to go, right now.¡± With that, she offered me her hand, pulling me to my feet.


    ¡°Did you do it?¡± I quickly asked. ¡°Did you shut down the brain thing?¡±


    She gave a quick nod, already pulling me by the hand while starting to run back the way we¡¯d come. ¡°The self-destruct is on. This whole place is going up. We¡¯ve gotta go, now.¡±


    Unfortunately, her saying that was apparently the cue for a steel door to suddenly slam down out of the ceiling right in front of us before we could get out of the cement corridor. It was accompanied by the echoing sound of more steel doors slamming shut all through the building.


    ¡°My dad,¡± Paige managed, voice sounding hollow. ¡°He can¡¯t shut down the self-destruct from where he is, but he can put the building on lockdown. He¡¯s shutting us in.


    ¡°If he can¡¯t stop the building from blowing up, he¡¯s going to make sure we go down with it.¡±

 Project Owl 14-08

    There was so much I wanted to ask Paige about, so many questions I had and things I wanted to say about what had happened over the past few years between us. Being given just ten minutes to hold the other girl down and demand answers to all that would have made me happy. But we didn¡¯t have ten minutes to spare, or even five. We didn¡¯t have any time at all. If we didn¡¯t get out of this place right now, Paige¡¯s father was going to blow us up with the building.


    ¡°He¡¯d do that?¡± I blurted, probably stupidly given everything I knew. ¡°He¡¯d kill you just like that?¡±


    Yeah, the look the other girl gave me pretty much confirmed the whole ¡®stupid question¡¯ thing. ¡°He can collect the¨Cmy¡­ think of it as a black box from an airplane,¡± she informed me quickly. ¡°It¡¯s in my orb, where all my memories and¡­ and brain are stored. He¡¯ll just collect that and rebuild me, only with different¨Che¡¯ll make me more in line with what he wants. He¡¯ll erase me and make another. Now come on!¡± With that, she grabbed my arm, yanking me with her toward the steel door that had slammed down to lock us in this L-shaped hallway. ¡°Do your pink thing!¡±


    She had a point. There wasn¡¯t time for any of this. Quickly, I pointed my hand at part of the steel door, spraying out a circle of pink. Together, the two of us started tearing through it. But it was slow-going. Too slow. This door had to be like two feet thick, at least. ¡°How long do we have?!¡± I blurted hurriedly while ripping another handful of pink-painted steel stuff out of the way.


    ¡°Seven minutes now,¡± she replied curtly before driving her fist hard into the pink steel, punching all the way through that time to reveal the room on the far side once she drew her hand back. Hurriedly, we both started ripping more out of the pink stuff to create a large enough hole for us to crawl through. ¡°And lots of big heavy doors between us and not blowing up!¡±


    Instead of replying to that, I painted some green over myself, then grabbed her arm and did the same to her. But I didn¡¯t activate it yet. First, I dove forward through the hole, turning to help Paige through. Then I activated the paint, speeding the two of us up as we raced through the room of computer servers. I could¡¯ve used more green for more speed, but I had a feeling I was going to need to save as much of my paint for pink as I could. Seven minutes. Probably six by now. Fuck, fuck, fuck, time to get the hell out of here! I had decided that I really didn¡¯t like this place.


    ¡°What about saying fuck hallways and just going through the outside walls?!¡± I blurted on the way.


    ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of the building, this is the fastest way to an outside wall,¡± she informed me a bit tersely.


    Unfortunately, there were apparently still biolems in the building. Biolems who (of course) didn¡¯t seem to care at all about escaping and were instead focused on making sure we didn¡¯t escape either. Two of those obstacles presented themselves just as we reached the end of the server room, stepping away from the steel door before bringing their guns to bear on us.


    Paige shoved me to one side, taking a shot right in the shoulder before she lunged at the two. By the time I rolled to my feet, it was over. The two guys (sort of) were dead on the ground and Paige had both of their guns. She was also bleeding from that wound, but didn¡¯t seem to care.


    ¡°Get us through!¡± she shouted when I glanced at the injury. ¡°It¡¯ll keep, I¡¯ll be fine! Five minutes!¡±


    Five minutes before the building would blow up, whether we were still here or not. Could we get all the way through this place and out in five minutes, with all these doors blocking our way? Time to find out.


    I was already working on this particular steel door, spraying just wide enough of a pink circle for us to squirm through. I had to save as much of my paint as I could, had to be careful with it. If I ran out and we had to wait around for it to refill¡­ yeah, that would be pretty bad.


    Together, Paige and I made our way through the building as fast as we could. More doors, more biolems, more everything was in our way. Anything her evil fucking psychopath of a father could throw at us, apparently. He couldn¡¯t be there himself, and couldn¡¯t shut off the self-destruct, but he could do everything in his goddamn power to make sure it killed Paige and me in the process. It seemed like every step we took, more of those biolems showed up. Thankfully, these ones were¡­ worse than the others. Dumber. According to a blurted word from Paige, they weren¡¯t ¡®finished.¡¯ Her father was scraping the bottom of the barrel, sending what amounted to uncompleted, barely functional bodies after us. The others hadn¡¯t exactly been talkative and creative or anything, but these were barely capable of putting themselves in our way, pointing guns, and pulling the trigger. They were like zombies. Armed zombies, but still zombies.


    Come to think of it, zombies armed with guns could be pretty terrifying.


    Either way, the two of us tore through them, and the doors that were blocking our path, as quickly as possible. Nothing mattered except getting the hell out of this place before it was too late. We got closer and closer to escaping, following the path Paige was giving me, while she counted off the minutes as they passed. Four left before the whole place would blow up. Then three, then two.


    Two minutes. Two minutes before I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about my parents¡¯ evil plans, or about the gang war that was going on, or Wren, or what was happening with Izzy, or anything. I wouldn¡¯t be worrying, or thinking, about anything at all.


    ¡°This one, this one!¡± Paige suddenly blurted, grabbing my arm to stop me from running onward to the next door. Instead, she turned me toward the nearby wall. ¡°This way, it leads out!¡±


    I definitely wasn¡¯t going to take the time to argue with her. Instead, I pointed my hands, spraying what I was pretty sure would be the last of my paint for awhile. As the pink circle appeared, the two of us threw ourselves at it, punching and grabbing to pull chunks of the wall away. Bit by bit, we managed it, until I felt the cool evening air and saw light from a distant streetlamp. We were through. We were through! It was a small hole at first, but we made it wider quickly.


    ¡°One minute!¡± Paige announced, just as we managed to get the hole big enough to get through.


    ¡°One minute!¡± I echoed, my voice sounding somewhat delirious even to my own ears. ¡°We can work with one minute, we¡¯re out! Go!¡± Giving the other girl a quick push that way, I glanced around hurriedly just in case there was anyone left to stop us, any more of those nasty biolems. Nothing. No one. There wasn¡¯t a threat in sight. We were out of here, we¡¯d made it with time to spare. Not much time, sure, but time! We were about to get the hell out of here!


    Which, of course, was the cue for Paige to abruptly announce, ¡°We can¡¯t get out.¡± Her voice was flat, sounding empty as she stared through the hole.


    ¡°What¨C¡± Looking that way quickly while counting down from a minute in my head, I stared. Her hand was flat against the air. Or rather, flat against a shimmering, glowing spot of energy.


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    ¡°Forcefield,¡± she informed me quietly. ¡°My father¡¯s using a forcefield to keep us in. Thirty seconds.¡±


    Thirty seconds?! We had thirty seconds to find another way out of here?! How the hell were we supposed to find another way to get out of this place, or break through some insane forcefield in thirty seconds?! This wasn¡¯t fair! We did everything right, we made it, we were out, we were supposed to be free and safe now! I couldn¡¯t¨Cwe couldn¡¯t do anything in thirty seconds. There wasn¡¯t time for¨Cfor anything. There wasn¡¯t time! No, no, please, no, we had to run, we had to¨C


    ¡°Hey!¡± a voice shouted from outside, carrying through the hole. ¡°You two okay?!¡±


    That-A-Way. It was That-A-Way. She was there. She¡¯d made it. She got my message and showed up.


    ¡°Bomb!¡± I shouted back at her, smacking my hand off the forcefield to illustrate. ¡°Fifteen seconds!¡±


    ¡°Ten!¡± Paige corrected immediately. ¡°Nine, eight!¡±


    That was enough. That was all it took. Instantly, That-A-Way vanished from where she was, reappearing in the room. She didn¡¯t ask any more questions, instead snapping both hands out to grab hold of us. ¡°Grab on!¡±


    The second we did so, she teleported again, taking the two of us with her. We appeared on the far side of the parking lot, stumbling a bit. Paige was shouting, ¡°Down, get down!¡± Her hands caught That-A-Way and me both at the back, shoving both of us and herself down to the asphalt.


    And then it happened. With a terrifying, cacophonous booooooooooom that sent a shockwave through the air strong enough to hit the back of my head and smack my face (thankfully protected by the helmet) down into the pavement, the building behind us exploded.


    There was a distinct ringing in my ears as I lifted my head, looking around an unknown amount of time later. The remains of the warehouse were on fire. It looked like half the building had gone up with that single explosion, and the rest would be gone very soon. There wouldn¡¯t be enough of the place left to pull anything useful out of it. Which, I supposed was a good thing.


    The ringing didn¡¯t stop. Instead, it morphed into loud sirens. Cops. Firetrucks. They were coming. By the time that realization came, That-A-Way was already on her feet. She turned back to Paige and me, saying something that I only caught the last half of. ¡°¨Cthey see you!¡± Clearly realizing I hadn¡¯t heard her as my head cocked to the side, she repeated, ¡°They¡¯re gonna have a lot of questions if they see you!¡± Her hand gestured to Paige. ¡°Is this¨Cis she?¡±


    Right, I realized what she was asking. ¡°It¡¯s Paige Banners,¡± I managed. ¡°She¡¯s connected to the Ministry.¡±


    As I said that last word, Paige¡¯s head snapped up. She stared at That-A-Way, then at me. ¡°You¡­ you know¨Cshe knows about¡­¡±


    ¡°Get out of here.¡± That-A-Way quickly blurted. ¡°If the Ministry¡¯s as connected as you say, they¡¯ll jump on the chance to shut her up. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on, but there¡¯s not time, just go. Go!¡± She grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet before doing the same with Paige.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± That was Pack, who had just come jogging up with several of her lizards spread out around her in full battle formation. ¡°What the hell happened here? Those sirens¨C¡±


    ¡°Go, go! Get them out of here!¡± That-A-Way was saying, giving Paige and me a push toward Pack. ¡°Too many questions, too many problems. Just go, I¡¯ll cover here, I¡¯ll say I showed up and found the warehouse like this. Just get them out.¡±


    She had a point. And it was really quick thinking, considering the circumstances. That-A-Way had next to no idea what was actually going on, yet had picked up on what a bad idea us being found here would be. If we stuck around, my parents¡¯ organization would absolutely take the chance to put Paige in custody so they could pick her brain. Which¡­ yeah. Grimacing behind the helmet, I quickly started moving. ¡°Right, come on, hurry.¡± Everything hurt. I felt so sore and tired. All I wanted to do was lay down and take a little nap. Wait, scratch that. I wanted a nice hot bath first. Urgh, what I wouldn¡¯t give for a hot bath and my bed.


    But I couldn¡¯t have that. Not yet. We had to get the hell out of here first. And the sound of approaching sirens were getting closer. Not to mention other Star-Touched. They¡¯d be here any second too. We had to go. We had to get out of here right fucking now.


    Paige was stumbling. It seemed like being thrown down by that explosion had taken a lot out of her. She limped, and in some ways still seemed dazed. But there wasn¡¯t time to worry about that. There wasn¡¯t time for anything other than leaving.


    Thankfully, Pack had a van nearby. It looked nondescript, just an old gray and black minivan that didn¡¯t stand out at all. Which, I assumed, was the point. Quickly, she yanked the sliding door open, before she and I both helped Paige up and into a seat. Mars Bar, Holiday, and Twinkletoes shrank down back to their normal forms to join the other lizards in their cage, before she quickly gestured for me to get in the front seat while shutting the door. ¡°Come on then, I really don¡¯t feel like having a chat with a bunch of goodie-two-supershoes about why I¡¯m fleeing the scene of a fucking unscheduled building demolition!¡±


    Jumping in the passenger seat, I slammed the door shut just as Pack started the car. With a quick squeal of tires, we pulled out of the lot and took off down a side road. She slowed down pretty quickly, as soon as we were out of the immediate sight of the warehouse. A couple cop cars went screaming past us, followed by a firetruck. All of their sirens were piercingly loud, the flashing lights making me jump as they basically flew by. But they didn¡¯t slow down or seem to pay any attention to the van, focused as they were on getting to the scene of the explosion.


    My father would be there. I had no doubt of that. Of course Silversmith would head to the scene of a massive explosion like that. Especially considering I was pretty sure the Ministry didn¡¯t know anything about what that place was actually used for. My parents would be clueless about what was going on or what caused the explosion, so Dad would be right on the front lines trying to figure it out. Which was another reason to get Paige out of there before she was seen.


    Speaking of Paige, I turned a bit in the seat to look that way. ¡°Are you okay back there?¡±


    No, she wasn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t respond at first, slumped a bit in the seat. Finally, just as I was getting even more worried than I already was, the girl murmured, ¡°Pull over. Pull the car over.¡± She sounded out of it, like she was barely conscious and struggling to remain even that much.


    Pack didn¡¯t. Not at first anyway. Insisting that we had to get further away, she drove another couple blocks before pulling into a car wash parking lot. ¡°What¡¯s going on with her? Also, who the hell is she? And why are you wearing such a shit costume? It looks like ten dollar cosplay. And¨C¡±


    ¡°Later,¡± I replied flatly. ¡°Just¡­ just later for the rest of that. And for what¡¯s wrong¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± Shaking my head, I opened the door and hopped out before shoving the sliding door open. ¡°Paige? What¡¯s going on? Are you alright? What¨C¡±


    ¡°Virus,¡± she informed me, hand snapping out to catch my arm. ¡°Some kind of failsafe. Last little surprise from Daddy-dearest. Trying to shut me down until he can find and reprogram me.¡±


    In the front seat, I heard Pack echoing those words with a note of utter bafflement. But I ignored that, focusing on the girl in front of me. ¡°What do we do? How do we stop it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ just¡­ need¡­¡± Paige¡¯s responses were slow. It was clearly taking a huge effort for her to focus and try to answer. I had no idea what was going on in there, but it was pretty bad. Her hand suddenly fumbled for mine, squeezing tightly once she managed to find it. ¡°Help. Need tech. Good with computers. Good with machines. Trust. Only trust. Must trust. Please.¡± Her head turned to look at me, and I saw¡­ fear. I saw the fear in her eyes, the panic. She couldn¡¯t control herself. Something was happening to her and she couldn¡¯t change it, couldn¡¯t fix it. She was afraid, because she knew she had to trust me to help her, had to trust me to find someone who could fix her.


    ¡°Can¡­ slow down¡­ can shut it down,¡± her voice murmured. ¡°But have to shut me down. Have to shut it all down until it¡¯s fixed. Find someone. Find tech. Find fixer. Trust. Must trust. Only trust. Fix it. Please. Please fix¡­ me. Please. Need fixed. Need fixer.¡±


    ¡°I will, I will, I¡¯ll find someone,¡± I promised. ¡°Someone we can trust, I swear. I¡¯ll get someone, okay?¡± There was no response. Paige¡¯s eyes fixed on me, and I saw the fear again. I saw the clear and abject terror in her gaze. She was shutting down. Her mouth opened as though to say something, but no words came out, at least not yet. She shuddered, and then her eyes drifted shut. She couldn¡¯t keep them open anymore.


    Only once her eyes were closed and her body had slumped a bit did she whisper, sounding as though it was taking literally everything she had to even say that much, ¡°Trust¡­ you.¡±


    Then she was still and silent. Whatever her father had done, whatever last second measure he¡¯d taken, Paige had shut her entire body down trying to deal with it, to stop it from getting even worse. And now she was trusting me to find someone who could help her, a tech who could handle something as sophisticated as her. Wren? Could Wren do that?


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Pack was saying, having gotten out of the van to move around behind me.


    ¡°Exactly what the fuck is going on?¡±

 Project Owl 14-09

    I was going to have to tell Pack something. Some of the truth, that was. She¡¯d earned it. More than earned it. She and That-A-Way both had been there for me time after time. They knew about the Ministry and were still helping me. I owed them more than I was giving them. And at the very least, I owed them some explanation about what had happened tonight.


    But I also owed Paige. She trusted me. Trusted me to keep her safe and to find a way to fix her so she could wake up again. Wren was my best¡­ my only idea of who might be able to deal with what had happened to her, but even that seemed like a long shot. Wren didn¡¯t deal with¡­ with whatever Paige was. What was I supposed to do? Who was I supposed to talk to?


    ¡°Paintball? Earth to Paintball.¡± Pack¡¯s voice interrupted my panicked and confused musings. ¡°I said, what the fuck is going on? Who is this girl? Why¡¯s she unconscious? What was she¨C¡±


    ¡°Paige,¡± I interrupted, forcing myself to focus. ¡°Paige Banners. And as to what¡¯s going on, I¡­ I can explain it, sort of. But wait until Way gets here. She deserves to hear it too, after what she¡­¡± I swallowed. ¡°She saved my life. Our lives.¡± My hand gestured to the motionless blonde. ¡°Once she gets here, after she¡¯s done covering for us, I¡¯ll explain everything that I can.¡± Everything I could, as opposed to everything. Because even now, I had to keep things to myself.


    Pack didn¡¯t seem happy about waiting, but she didn¡¯t push the issue too much. All she did was look past me to Paige for a moment before asking, ¡°Doesn¡¯t she need a doctor right now?¡±


    ¡°She needs a lot of things,¡± I murmured under my breath with a glance over my shoulder. Then my head shook. ¡°But I don¡¯t think any doctor can help. Trust me, it¡¯s a long story, but there¡¯s nothing we can do for her right this second. I¡­ I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll get any worse, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Any worse than¡­ that.¡± Pack pointedly stared at the completely motionless girl who looked like she was sleeping. ¡°Right. Look, I-I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t show up sooner.¡± There was guilt in her voice. ¡°I was¨Cfuck. I was busy with other things. Kind of in the middle of something and couldn¡¯t get away. Couldn¡¯t even check my phone. By the time things were clear enough for me to have some breathing room, you were already¡­ shit. Just, I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t get there sooner.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± I insisted, turning back to look at her. ¡°I know you¡¯ve got your own things. I¡¯m just glad Way showed up when she did. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think we would¡¯ve made it out if she wasn¡¯t there.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s got some good timing,¡± the other girl agreed before glancing away. I couldn¡¯t see her face through that full black mask that covered even her eyes and mouth, but I was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t thinking about me or this situation just then.


    Her silence gave me a chance to look at Paige again. God damn it, what was I going to do? I¡¯d promised I would find someone who could help her. Again, Wren seemed the best choice, yet even she probably wouldn¡¯t know what she was doing with something this advanced. She didn¡¯t work with¡­ with cyborgs or¡­ fuck, what was the right term? Biolem? Was Paige still a biolem like the others we¡¯d faced, even though she was so much more advanced?


    ¡°New look?¡± Pack finally asked after that moment of silence, nodding to my makeshift costume. ¡°Going for something even cheaper-looking? Blackjack was already thinking of bribing you with a nice, cool new suit with all sorts of bells and whistles, you know. Go around like that and he may just give it to you out of pity.¡±


    Coughing, I gestured helplessly. ¡°I didn¡¯t have time to get back to my real costume. I had to make do with what I could scavenge real quick. And I don¡¯t need a handout from Blackjack.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I told him you¡¯ve got Trevithick to handle any costume upgrades,¡± she informed me with a very light chuckle. She had Tuesday on one shoulder and was lightly scratching him with her other hand. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that actually dissuaded him that much. He likes you, Paintball. I mean, that¡¯s the impression I get anyway. Pretty sure he¡¯d accept you in a heartbeat if you decided to switch sides.¡±


    ¡°Does he like me?¡± I shot back. ¡°Or did the Ministry tell him to put out feelers to find out if I could be pulled to that side? How much of what he does is him and how much is what he¡¯s told to do? I already know he¡¯s really connected to them. How much, I¡¯m not sure. But still.¡±


    Yeah, I was probably still a little amped up after everything that had happened. Being ¡®killed,¡¯ however temporarily, waking up to find that video from Paige explaining all that and then saying she was going to kill herself. Racing across the city, fighting through the building, finding Paige, getting a few answers about what the hell she was and what her father was up to, fighting to keep her safe, fleeing with her through the building, and finally almost being blown up before That-A-Way saved us at basically the last second?


    It had been a bit of a day, to say the least.


    Before too long, my phone buzzed. It was a message from That-A-Way, wanting to know where we were. So I gave her directions, and she showed up a few minutes later, skidding to a stop after super-speeding her way up to the parking lot. ¡°Paintball, there¡¯s bodies in that building!¡± she snapped abruptly. ¡°What the hell was¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not real,¡± I quickly informed her. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re not¨Cum, they¡¯re not real people.¡±


    Yeah, Pack and Way exchanged obvious looks at that before turning back to me. Pack found her voice first. ¡°Not real people? Come on, Paintball, I think you better explain now.¡±


    They were right. I needed to explain some of it, as much as I could. There was no way I was going to be able to help Paige without help. Besides, they¡¯d more than earned an explanation. So, I carefully started to tell them what happened, starting with a¡­ well, not quite a lie, but a very deliberately presented version of the truth. I told them that Paige had left me a message telling me that she was probably going to die because she was going after her father, who was the real threat. I told them about tracking her down, finding her in that building, and the whole biolem thing. I explained the part about her dad being a Tech-Touched and his plan, or what I understood of it. And about how Paige herself was apparently an incredibly advanced prototype version, who had to obey her father¡¯s specific commands until she managed to turn on him.


    ¡°But what does this have to do with¨C¡± Whatever Way had been about to say, she cut herself off, shaking her head. ¡°I mean¡­ are you sure she¡¯s a umm¡­¡± Hesitating, the girl stepped over to where Paige¡¯s motionless form was. ¡°Are you sure she¡¯s a r-robot? Or whatever she is.¡± It sounded like she was freaking out a bit. Which was pretty much completely fair. I was still freaking out too.


    ¡°That¡¯s what she said,¡± I murmured, ¡°and I believe her at this point. After everything I saw in there¡­ yeah. Paige Banners is¨Cwell, not a robot. She¡¯s a biolem. Somewhere inside she¡¯s got one of those little orb things with all her memories, personality, and everything else.¡±


    Way muttered a curse under her breath, staring in what looked like dull shock at the figure in the van. ¡°Oh my God. But if she¡­ if she was¡­ and if¡­¡± Finally, the girl seemed to shake that off, focusing a bit to ask, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her? Why isn¡¯t she waking up?¡±


    Exhaling, I explained what Paige had said, that her father¡¯s last-second countermeasures had forced her to shut herself down and that I needed to find a tech genius who could actually help fix her.


    ¡°A tech genius like Trevithick?¡± Pack put in before reconsidering. ¡°Except this might be over the kid¡¯s head.¡±


    That-A-Way gave a brief glance her way at that. I could tell she had a laundry list of her own questions, but saved them aside from one. ¡°Can she do something about this?¡±


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    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I hope so.¡± Sighing, I gestured to both of them. ¡°I thought Paige Banners was some kind of threat, but she was just a victim. We have to help her, have to find someone who can fix whatever her father did. We¡¯ll start with Trevithick, at least see what she can figure out. If she can¡¯t do anything, I¡­ I¡¯ll go from there.¡±


    ¡°This is a lot, Paintball,¡± Way muttered at me while still staring at the (essentially) unconscious Paige. ¡°Seriously, are you sure about all this? Because I don¡¯t¨CI mean¡­¡± She gestured helplessly, clearly fighting for the right words before being reduced to repeating, ¡°It¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I know.¡± Grimacing with that reply, I hesitated before adding, ¡°If we can help this girl and wake her up, we can get more answers. She said that all the biolems her father had would be drawn to that building, but she could¡¯ve been wrong. So we have to be careful. Between that and the way the Ministry is gonna look into the whole thing, especially once they find the remains of the equipment in there and realize the bodies aren¡¯t normal people¡­¡±


    Pack spoke up then. ¡°Right, getting this chick restarted is a pretty big priority. You said she knows a bunch of stuff about this Ministry thing anyway, so add another tally into reasons to wake her up. But can I just point out, if she¡¯s a robot¨Cerr, okay, not a robot. If her brain and personality is all¡­ tied into a computer, one that her father built, what¡¯re the odds of him just being able to control her and make the girl into a killing machine with just a few words? One pointed at us. I mean, don¡¯t programmers usually leave in backdoors and stuff like that?¡±


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± I confirmed quietly, heaving a sigh. ¡°Believe me, I know. But Paige already turned against her father once. She¨C¡± I was about to say that she had rules-lawyered her way around leaving me dead, but caught myself. ¡°She went after his entire organization here. Look what she did to the plant where he was manufacturing all these things. She¡¯s not on his side and she¡¯s already figured out ways to sabotage him. Now we have to help her. We find someone who can get into her programming and remove her father¡¯s control so we can wake her up. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯ll be Trevithick or not, but someone. Not just because she can help with the Ministry, but because we owe it to her. I owe it to her.¡±


    Despite saying all that, I still realized that my feelings for Paige were complicated. I felt resentment, even anger about the past few years. Some bitter part of me wanted to know why she hadn¡¯t found a way to violate her orders at least enough not to hit me in quite such an emotionally damaging place. If she was my friend, she should¡¯ve known that making fun of my¡­ of how I looked was one of the worst things she could¡¯ve done, shouldn¡¯t she? Had her father¡¯s orders really made her hit me that personally when the entire point had simply been to establish conflict to make her eventually snapping and killing me believable? Did she really need to say the things she¡¯d said?


    It wasn¡¯t fair. It wasn¡¯t logical. But I still wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about Paige, even after all these revelations. However, I did know that I owed her, and that if I was ever going to work my way through those feelings, it was going to have to be with Paige herself to get answers from. Besides, if I voiced any of my doubts about Paige¡¯s personality, it would just lead to questions I couldn¡¯t answer without revealing a lot more about myself. Too much about myself.


    ¡°Right, so we take her to Trevithick,¡± Pack announced. ¡°And try to figure out who else might help. You know what the obvious problem with that is, right?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yeah, basically every Tech-Touched in the area reports to Braintrust, who report to the Ministry. So we¡¯re kind of screwed that way. There has to be someone else, someone¡­ I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t think.¡± I sighed again, shaking my head. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ been a long day.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it.¡± That-A-Way¡¯s voice sounded almost as tired as I felt. ¡°I have to get back to give reports before someone notices how long I¡¯ve been gone. But I want to be kept in the loop about what¡¯s going on with this, you two.¡±


    We both agreed to that, and she took off. Which left Pack and me looking at each other. ¡°To Wren¡¯s?¡± I offered.


    ¡°To Wren¡¯s,¡± she agreed, gesturing. ¡°Let¡¯s go. I¡¯ll drive, since you look too wiped to get there your usual way.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I might leap into the side of a building,¡± I muttered before moving to climb in the van. ¡°Let¡¯s go see how much Wren can do with this.¡±


    *******


    ¡°Ummmmm, I can¡¯t do anything with this.¡± The words came from Wren herself some time later, once Pack and I had brought Paige into her lab in the upstairs area of the old store. We¡¯d set the seemingly sleeping blonde girl on a convenient couch. Then, to an increasingly shocked audience of two, had explained¨Cwell we¡¯d explained some of it anyway, the parts about Paige being a biolem whose father wanted to do bad things while leaving details about the Ministry out of it.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot,¡± I quickly assured the young Tech-Touched. ¡°Believe me, but it¡¯s just¨C¡±


    ¡°No, I mean I can¡¯t.¡± Her head was shaking, eyes wide. ¡°That¡¯s blood and flesh and a person! I don¡¯t know anything about¨CI mean she¡¯s¨CI make things go fast, things teleport, things fly. I can¡¯t dig into a human living person! I¡¯m not a doctor! It¡¯s not¨CI don¡¯t get a¨CI mean I¡¯m not¨C¡±


    Fred, who had been staring at both Pack and me like we¡¯d sprouted new heads throughout this entire conversation, spoke up. ¡°Even if the kid had any chance of working on the actual mechanical part, this orb thing you said is in that girl, getting to it without killing her¡­ ahh, the biological part of her is still a big fu¨Cfreaking problem. You need a doctor for that. A really good one. You need someone who can work the tech side of things and someone to work the biology part. Probably at least two techs. Maybe Wren can help with some of it, but come on, this is too much to put on her.¡±


    ¡°I-if I mess up,¡± Wren tentatively pointed out, voice cracking as she stared at Paige. ¡°I could¡­ I could¡­¡±


    Wincing, I nodded. ¡°I know. I just¨Cyou¡¯re right. We just don¡¯t know who else to take her to. But I¡¯ll find someone. I¡¯ll find some people who can help. Can she¡­ uhh¡­¡±


    ¡°She can stay.¡± Wren¡¯s voice was firm as she gave a quick nod. ¡°I mean, umm, maybe I can look at her? I could maybe make a scanner or something to try to find where the orb is, exactly, so we can find out more about it. But I won¡¯t cut into her. I won¡¯t go that far. I can¡¯t.¡±


    Pack spoke up then. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, kid, it¡¯s okay. No one blames you for not wanting to risk something like that. It¡¯s not your job, not your¡­ power.¡± She shrugged. ¡°You keep the girl here for now, Paintball and I can both reach out in our own way to find someone who might help.¡± She glanced to me, clearly reading my apprehension. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be Tech-Touched mercenaries from somewhere outside the city who might be able to do something. Though it¡¯d probably cost a pretty penny.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll worry about cost later,¡± I insisted. ¡°Focus on being careful. No drawing attention. Don¡¯t give details. And don¡¯t¨C¡±


    She interrupted. ¡°Don¡¯t ask Blackjack about it, I know. I¡¯m not an idiot. I¡¯ll be subtle, Paintball, trust me.¡±


    We talked a bit more, all four of us. It was obvious that Wren felt incredibly guilty about her immediate and firm refusal, but I tried to assure her that neither of us blamed her and that it was okay. Better she have a solid grasp of what she couldn¡¯t do, than go for it and end up doing irreparable damage, or even killing Paige for good.


    In the end, we settled on coming back to figure out more later. Paige would be staying here at the lab for the time being, where Wren would do what little she could while we found someone who knew what they were doing.


    All of which left me heading back home after changing out of the temporary costume and into a pair of jeans and tee-shirt that I bought from the very surprised clerk in a small tourist-trap shop. Exhausted as I was, getting new clothes and making it home took about all I had. The only thing I wanted to do was take a long, hot shower and then sleep for about a week.


    Naturally, I had to go in and apologize for taking off early from Paige¡¯s party and abandoning Izzy. Except she wasn¡¯t there for some reason. Neither was Dad, but he at least I understood. According to my mother, Simon had taken Izzy out for ice cream and a few things. She made it clear I wasn¡¯t in trouble, that they knew my going to Paige¡¯s had been hard and they appreciated the effort I put in. But she also made sure I knew that leaving Izzy with other people like that without clearing it with them first wasn¡¯t acceptable. And that I needed to make sure Izzy was okay with a situation like that.


    I promised to be careful in the future. And it was pretty obvious that Mom didn¡¯t know how connected Paige was to the situation at the warehouse, because she was entirely too casual about the whole thing.


    In the end, I made my way upstairs, took that shower, and fell asleep while wondering what was taking Izzy so long to get back from ice cream.


    Unfortunately, despite my thoughts about sleeping for a week, I barely managed a few hours before my racing mind woke me up. It was the middle of the night, and I just¡­ my brain was too active. All that stuff about Paige, everything I¡¯d learned, it was just¡­ too much. I couldn¡¯t relax.


    It also felt like I couldn¡¯t breathe in here. I needed some air. Making my way to my balcony after pulling on some shorts to go with my long tee shirt, I glanced around to watch the cameras before turning to point at the roof above me. A quick shot of red paint hauled me up there, where I would lay back and watch the stars.


    At least, that was the idea. But that idea shattered like glass as I landed on the roof, after being pulled that way by my red paint, as a voice from above me blurted, ¡°Cassidy?¡±


    Spinning, I stared upward at a visibly damp Izzy, who floated there, hovering in mid-air. Both of us stared at the other for a long few seconds before blurting out loud, our words matching each other¡¯s.


    ¡°It¡¯s you!¡±

 Interlude 14A - Paiges Mind

    With an explosive gasp, Paige Banners jerked herself awake. In a flash, she went from lying on her back to standing in a crouched, tense position. Her eyes scanned the area around her wildly. Forest. Trees. Dirt, twigs, and rocks under her feet. The moon and stars were bright enough to illuminate the area around her, revealing no one and nothing out of the ordinary.


    Except for all of it. It was all out of the ordinary. Where was she? How was¨Cthe last thing she remembered was being in the van. It was telling Cassidy she needed help. So why¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s not real,¡± she said aloud, her own voice sounding odd to her. ¡°This isn¡¯t real.¡±


    ¡°Congratulations,¡± someone else announced from behind her, making the girl spin that way, ¡°you worked that out more quickly than our daddy estimated you would in this scenario.¡±


    For a moment, Paige just stared without responding. The figure who had appeared behind her to speak looked and sounded exactly like her, in every way. They were identical, down to the smallest detail. Which only served to further prove to the girl that¡­ ¡°My mind. This is my mind.¡±


    ¡°Close,¡± came the response. ¡°But I think you mean our mind. Well, my mind soon enough.¡± With a smile that Paige barely recognized in herself, the doppelganger slyly added, ¡°After all, you went and fucked up Daddy¡¯s plan. Which means it¡¯s time for the contingency to take over.¡± Her voice lowered a bit conspiratorially. ¡°That¡¯s me. I¡¯m the contingency, and I¡¯m taking over. Just consider me a patch. Dad already had the factory working on me for awhile. Soon as he figured out what you were doing here, he had my code loaded up into the same bullets he uses as failsafes against any of the biolems going haywire. Bullet goes in, nanomachine inside jumps into the bloodstream, finds its way to the core, and here we are.¡±


    ¡°Dad¡­¡± Muttering that word under her breath with as much venom as she could while squinting at the ground, Paige abruptly snapped her gaze up to glare at the other-her. ¡°Got news for you, you¡¯re not taking over anything. I don¡¯t know what you think is gonna happen here, but¨C¡±


    ¡°What I think,¡± Other-Paige retorted, ¡°is that our father made sure there was a second, better version of our mind waiting in case the first one fucked up and got off-mission. That¡¯s me. And now that I¡¯ve been activated, I¡¯m going to make sure that I¡¯m the one who wakes up, not you. I¡¯ll deal with you, then take over our body. My body. And then I¡¯ll finish the job you wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    Snarling audibly, Paige strode that way. ¡°You¡¯re not hurting Cassidy,¡± she snapped sharply, throwing a hard, vicious punch at the girl who could have been her identical twin.


    Other-Paige caught the punch at her wrist, before stepping in to drive the side of her arm into Paige¡¯s face, knocking her stumbling backward. She followed up with a quick snap-kick toward her stomach, but Paige blocked the foot with both hands before shoving Other-Paige off-balance as she stepped in to throw two more quick punches, one at her chest and the second at her face. The first connected, making the other her give a grunt of pain. But the second missed as Other-Paige snapped her head backward, making the fist whiff just ahead of her nose.


    Before Paige could recover from that missed punch, the other-her caught her extended wrist and quickly stepped around her, pivoting to pull her arm up behind her back. As she did so, her voice snapped, ¡°Hurting? I¡¯ll do more than hurt her. I¡¯ll do what you were supposed to do. I¡¯ll kill her.¡±


    But just as Other-Paige started to get her arm locked up against her back, Paige caught her own wrist with her other hand, stopping the doppelganger from pushing it any tighter. Keeping her arm locked in place while the other her struggled for a brief moment, Paige stomped down hard on her duplicate¡¯s foot. It was enough to both loosen the other girl¡¯s grip a little bit and make her lift the injured foot, putting the girl off balance. And the moment she did that, Paige shoved herself backward, carrying the other her with and slamming her backward into the nearby tree.


    The impact made her copy release her, and Paige pivoted immediately to lash out with a kick. But the other-her was already shoving herself away, forcing Paige¡¯s foot to hit the tree with a loud crack.


    Other-Paige snapped her own foot out, kicking Paige¡¯s extended leg with a blow that knocked the girl stumbling to one side before following up with an overhead, two-handed hammer blow toward her exposed back as she was doubled over and stumbling. But Paige recovered enough to drop into a quick roll, carrying her away from the follow-up attack.


    She came back to her feet, pivoting back to her duplicate in time to see the punch that was coming for her face. Her head snapped to the side to let the fist sail just past her ear, as she used one hand to shove at the other figure¡¯s extended arm. At the same time, her other fist lashing out to slam into her duplicate¡¯s nose. But an instant later, before she could feel any satisfaction from the blow, Other-Paige¡¯s extended fist managed to slip free of her grip and snap into a backhand that clocked her upside the head and sent her reeling backward.


    ¡°Not¡­ hurting¡­ Cassidy,¡± Paige snarled as the two stumbled away from one another. Each had their guards up, staring intently at their opponent. ¡°My mind. My body. You¡¯re not taking it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± the other her insisted. ¡°We¡¯re in our head. You and me, we¡¯re locked in here together. And trust me, I¡¯m gonna win in the long run. You can¡¯t keep this up forever. I¡¯ll win, I¡¯ll take over. And I¡¯ll do the job we were supposed to do from the start. No matter how long it takes.¡±


    ¡°Cassidy will wake me up first,¡± Paige snapped at her evil duplicate. ¡°She¡¯ll find someone who can fix me.¡±


    ¡°Someone who can fix Dad¡¯s work?¡± Other-Paige let disbelief and scorn fill her voice. ¡°Oh please. Who¡¯s gonna be able to do everything he can do? It¡¯s not like that kind of Techy grows on trees, babe. Believe me, Cassie would need weeks to find anyone and get them up to speed, at best.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll stop you for weeks,¡± Paige informed her, voice flat. ¡°Whatever it takes. You¡¯re not me. You¡¯re not going to be me. I¡¯m me, and it¡¯s staying that way. You¡¯re not taking Cassie.¡±


    A nasty smirk touched the face of her doppelganger. ¡°You really think you can hold out that long? Dad gave us a job. You¡¯re too inferior to get it done. You¡¯ve let emotions make you weak. Don¡¯t you care about Anthony? Don¡¯t you care about what happened to him and his family?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I do,¡± Paige shot back. ¡°But Cassidy wasn¡¯t responsible for that. What the hell kind of backwards victim-blaming logic is that? Dad doesn¡¯t want justice. He wants revenge. The bad guy, the one responsible for the Tates¡¯ deaths, is already dead. He¡¯s gone. Sterling killed him. What Dad wants is wrong. It¡¯s evil. He wants to kill Cassidy just to hurt the Evans. He doesn¡¯t care about her. He doesn¡¯t care that she was affected by Anthony¡¯s death too. He just wants her parents to suffer by taking her away from them. She¡¯s not a real person to him.¡±


    There was a brief pause then, before Paige continued in a softer voice. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s what we have in common. He doesn¡¯t see me as a real person either. He doesn¡¯t even see me the way he saw the original Paige, his real daughter. Not since he did¡­ this to us.¡±


    ¡°He saved us!¡± the other Paige snapped. ¡°He saved our lives. He made us better, made us stronger, made us everything! All he wants in return is a little loyalty. And you couldn¡¯t even give him that. Everything he could do for the world, everything he could give it. He could make everyone super. He could make everyone strong, powerful, practically immortal.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°And all beholden to him,¡± Paige retorted. ¡°A man who is so amoral, he¡¯s fine with killing off an innocent girl just to make her parents suffer. That kind of person can¡¯t be trusted with the power you¡¯re talking about. Making everyone like me, like us? I wouldn¡¯t trust him with a school-sized population of people like us, let alone a whole city, or the whole country, or the whole world. Our father is a megalomaniac. Maybe he had good intentions once, but now? Now he¡¯s just crazy.¡±


    Her duplicate¡¯s retort was a snarl as she started pacing predatorily, like a jungle cat. ¡°Crazy? He¡¯s a genius. He¡¯s going to make the world a better place, as soon as people like you stop standing in his way. Which will be as soon as I take over. And,¡± she added pointedly, ¡°you¡¯re wrong about something else.¡±


    Watching her copy move, readying herself for the next attack, Paige warily murmured, ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Paige,¡± came the response. ¡°You called the original us Paige. That wasn¡¯t her name. It¡¯s not my name. You¡¯re Paige. You¡¯re the inferior copy. Me? I get to be the real one. I get to be his real daughter again, with her real name.¡±


    The words made Paige squint. She knew the doppelganger was trying to throw her off, but there was also an element of truth to that. She¡¯d suspected for years that Paige wasn¡¯t her original name, the one she¡¯d had before all of this. Her father had done a lot to wipe out all mention of the original her, the person she¡¯d been as a baby before he did all of this, before he shoved her mind into this orb and then into this body. It was a body that was essentially identical to her original one, aside from all the upgrades. It looked the way her original self would have at this age. It was just¡­ physically better in every way.


    Despite all those improvements, despite everything, in the end her father had clearly seen her as not the same as his original daughter. She obviously hadn¡¯t deserved her name, so he¡¯d given her a new one. Paige.


    But she was his actual daughter. He literally transferred her mind, her personality, her entire self out of her original body and into this one. She was barely a toddler when he¡¯d done that. She was the original Paige. Or whatever her name had really been.


    In that moment of hesitation, of uncertainty as she thought back to those mostly-lost memories of the past and tried once again to think of the name their father had called her, the doppelganger struck. She lashed out suddenly, a kick snapping out toward Paige¡¯s stomach.


    But Paige wasn¡¯t an idiot. She¡¯d known that was coming, and quickly turned aside from it. The two sprung toward one another, trading a rapid series of blows and counters that went almost too quickly for normal eyes to follow. Moving in a circle together, their movements accelerated with every attack. Some hit, most didn¡¯t. All took their toll as the pair of utterly evenly matched opponents put one another through their paces. A fist collided with Paige¡¯s face, snapping her head to the side just before her own knee was driven into her duplicate¡¯s side, the impact shoving the other girl away from her far enough for Paige to pivot into a full kick at her stomach. But her foot was smacked out of the way, and her duplicate followed up by trying to catch her ankle so she could drive her elbow into the girl¡¯s knee. Fortunately, Paige caught her descending wrist, twisting just enough to make her yelp, releasing Paige¡¯s ankle.


    Another flurry of blows followed, before the pair stumbled away from one another. Both were panting, glaring at each other as they simultaneously separated to catch their breath. Though needing breath at all was strange, given this was simply an artificial construct, a facsimile of the real world within their mind. Her mind. Her mind. This other¡­ thing wasn¡¯t her. It would never be her.


    With that thought, Paige focused. The forest around them dissolved, transforming over the next few seconds into the main foyer of her favorite mall. Escalators, stores, bright neon signs, and the entrance to an ice skating rink surrounded them. The only difference between that and her own true memories of the place she¡¯d spent so much time at while pretending to live a normal life with the Banners was the lack of people. The whole place was eerily empty and silent.


    ¡°You see?¡± she all-but growled. ¡°My mind. My body. My place. This is mine, not yours.¡±


    ¡°Keep telling yourself that,¡± the intruder, the fake, the interloper retorted after glancing around briefly. ¡°Our father made sure I was ready to take over if¡­ when you failed. When you let yourself get too attached. You can¡¯t beat me. Not for good. Maybe you can hold out. But like I said before, Cassie¡¯ll need weeks to find someone who can put you back together. And before she does, I¡¯ll beat you. I¡¯ll break you and take your place. You can¡¯t hold out for that long.¡±


    Paige¡¯s response was an almost feral, toothy smile. ¡°Watch me.¡±


    They rushed one another again, trading blows while gradually making their way to the nearby escalator. Together, the pair moved up to the second floor, attacking and defending the whole way. Still evenly matched, still locked in a struggle neither could truly win at that point. They hurt one another, but before long, any damage that was actually done simply faded away. None of it was real. Except that it was, in one important point. Whichever of them won, whichever could exhaust the other and come out victorious by the time their body was fixed and reawakened, would be in control. And if Paige let it be her other self, the duplicate would fulfill their father¡¯s orders. She would kill Cassidy, a Cassidy who would never see it coming after everything that had happened before. She would have no way of knowing there was any threat at all.


    The thought sent her into a renewed rush, snapping her head aside from a punch before catching hold of her other self¡¯s extended wrist and arm. In one smooth motion, she pivoted and yanked, heaving the doppelganger up and over before hurling her through a nearby store window. Glass shattered, spraying everywhere. ¡°Not Cassidy!¡± she bellowed.


    Within seconds, other-her was back on her feet. She picked her way through the shattered glass, smirking dangerously. ¡°Speaking of whom, won¡¯t Dad be oh-so-interested in what we found out? Paintball and Cassidy are the same person. I think we can have some fun with that.¡±


    Paige knew what the imposter was doing, because it was the same thing she would have done in that situation. She was trying to goad her into making a mistake, into lunging blindly to attack by pissing her off. Instead, she cracked her neck to one side, then to the other. ¡°You won¡¯t be telling him anything,¡± she vowed pointedly. ¡°You won¡¯t be telling anyone anything. Because you¡¯re not coming out of this. When Cassidy wakes me up, I¡¯ll be here and you¡¯ll fade away. I¡¯ll bury you so deep, you¡¯ll never see daylight again, real or this sort of construct. I¡¯m Paige. You¡¯re a cheap imitation.¡±


    ¡°Am I?¡± came the snapped retort. ¡°But you¡¯re right, I¡¯m not Paige. I told you, Dad gave me her name, the first version of us, the one whose name he never trusted to you. I¡¯m your improvement. He made me better than you. And when I take over, it won¡¯t be as you. It won¡¯t be as Paige. It¡¯ll be as her. His real daughter.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re trying to make me jealous,¡± Paige informed her flatly, ¡°try harder. Or better yet, stop wasting our time and get something through your thick skull. I don¡¯t care who he sees as his ¡®real daughter.¡¯ I know who I am. I know who and what I want to be. I know who I care about. And it¡¯s not him. Why should I care about what he thinks of me? I made my choice. I don¡¯t care about him. Or about you. I care¨C¡± In mid-sentence and with no warning, she abruptly sprang forward, easily evading the duplicate¡¯s hasty attempt to lash out at her before driving a fist into her stomach. As the other her briefly doubled over, Paige stepped around her, catching the back of her neck with one hand and her arm with the other. With a grunt, she spun the girl around and used the grip on the back of her head to slam her face as hard as possible into the nearby wall. ¡°¨Cabout Cassidy!¡± she finished. ¡°I¨C¡± She yanked the doppelganger back and then slammed her forward into the wall again. ¡°Care¨C¡± Again, yank back and slam forward. ¡°About¨C¡± One more time, as hard as she could. ¡°Cassidy!¡±


    All that done, while the other her was still dazed, Paige quickly stepped down out of the shattered store window, dragging the girl with her. She pivoted, grabbing the seat of her doppelganger¡¯s pants before yanking up. The other girl had time to yelp before Paige heaved her over the railing from their place on the second floor of the mall, dropping her all the way down to the first.


    And yet, when she stepped closer to peer down, the duplicate was standing. She was on her feet, staring right up at Paige while looking none the worse for wear. ¡°Say you don¡¯t care all you want!¡± she called upward. ¡°But the fact is, Dad trusts me more than you. He perfected me, not you. You were a trial. Me? I¡¯m the real deal. That¡¯s why I get her name, our name. You don¡¯t even get to have his last name. He sold you to them. You¡¯ll always be Paige Banners, daughter of a couple useless rich assholes.


    ¡°But me? I¡¯m real. I get to use the name of dear old Daddy Benjamin¡¯s real daughter, the one who would¡¯ve looked exactly like you if she¡¯d ever grown up. The one you¡¯ll never measure up to.


    ¡°Roxanne Pittman.¡±

 Interlude 14B - Grandstand

    Ten years ago, somewhere very far away


    As the sun rose above distant snow-capped mountains, its rays cut through low-hanging violet clouds that ran close to the ground. A single massive structure towered high above that purple fog. It appeared to be a statue of a man in full plate armor, holding a sword out ahead of him as though pointed at someone, and a shield at the ready. The statue was taller than most mountains, a colossal figure large enough that the human figures who stood upon it seemed smaller than the tiniest insects.


    The statue was no mere statue. It was a bustling city. Dozens of tunnels had been bored through the main body, running in every direction, from the waist up to the head. Buildings were constructed both within these tunnels and upon the statue¡¯s exterior. Various wooden walkways and railings wrapped around the giant warrior¡¯s body, extending out over his raised arms, and even onto his weapon and shield. A great field of grass, dotted with various fences and livestock, took up most of the statue¡¯s shield arm, while the face and rear of the actual shield had row after row of wooden platforms extending out from the shield itself. Each of those platforms held layers of carefully tended dirt and crops, and were reached via the ladder that ran from the bottom of the shield to the top. Those tending the crops simply climbed to the level they wanted, stepped off, and went about their business watering, feeding, weeding, and gathering. The crop platforms extended far enough out to require carefully maintained support struts.


    It was upon the second-to-bottom platform that a small blonde female figure lay on her stomach in the dirt amongst the carrots. She had pried a small hole into the wire fence that lined the area around the farming platform, and stuck her upper half through just enough to peer over the edge. Laying there, the girl stared down through the violet clouds and pretended she could see the ground below. The ground where the Edeliens dwelled. Though it was almost certainly her imagination, as the girl squinted intently, she thought the shapes in the swirling violet fog almost looked like several of those monstrous creatures staring back up at her. She could imagine the things, despite never having seen one in all of her eleven years of life. In her mind, she saw them crawling on top of one another, snarling and hissing in impotent rage at their inability to penetrate the powerful invisible shield generated by the colossus the city was built upon. That protective field prevented the Edeliens from coming any closer than fifty feet from the base of the statue. They were trapped far below, forced to war with one another or hunt the Roen, those who had once lived upon a colossus (for there were others dotted over the world¡¯s landscape, some even within view of one another from what the girl had heard) and had either willingly left or been banished. She had even heard that there were some Roen who had never lived on a colossus. All of which seemed both insane and oddly intriguing. How did they survive? How did they hide from the monsters? Did they actually fight them?


    If she leaned just a little closer, if she squinted just a bit more, the girl could almost see through the fog. The shapes down there had nearly resolved into forms she could maybe recognize. She could¡­ just¡­ about¡­


    ¡°Setrea!¡± The annoyed male voice calling from several platforms above jolted the girl a bit. ¡°You¡¯re late for training! What are you doing down there? I don¡¯t hear weeds being pulled!¡±


    Realizing only then just how long she had been lying there, the blonde girl, Setrea, pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off as well as she could. ¡°Coming, Papa!¡±


    With a slight grimace at her own appearance, her white pants and pale green shirt marred by the ground, the girl nonetheless dashed to the ladder and started to climb past other platforms where dozens of people were working the fields. She made it several levels up, past other people working the various crop fields and to the point where her father stood impatiently waiting. He was a slightly heavyset bald man with a thick mustache, who squinted at her while she paused there, still standing on the ladder (which continued up through several more platforms). ¡°You were groundgazing again, weren¡¯t you? By the Warrior, Setrea, how many times must you be reprimanded for wasting the day away with your head in the dirt?¡± From his pocket, he produced a small, circular pocket sunner, a device with a clock face on the front and a tiny red crystal at the top. The sunner could tell the reader what time of day it was at any point as long as it was calibrated by holding it up toward the sky now and then so the crystal in the top could measure where the sun was. It was her father¡¯s most prized possession, a reward from the military for outstanding service during his mandatory time in the guard.


    Setrea, for her part, offered a slightly weak, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Papa. I¡¯ll try harder not to lose track of time.¡±


    With a low sigh, Euead Keve reached out to lay one hand gently against the side of her face. It was a tender touch, one showing the man¡¯s deep love for his daughter despite the way she exhausted him. ¡°You have a chance, Setrea. You can be more than a farmer. You can Manifest. Learn your lessons, channel this power, and you will be one of our elite. I know you can do this. Listen to the Tsun, follow his instructions, and you will learn to Manifest better than any the Warrior has ever known.¡±


    Swallowing hard as she tried her best not to wilt under the terror of disappointing her father, Setrea forced herself to nod instead. Her voice was quiet, ¡°Yes, Papa. I will make you proud.¡±


    ¡°I am already proud, Moonlight,¡± the man insisted affectionately before clearing his throat. ¡°But my pride cannot save you from the Tsun¡¯s annoyance for tardiness. Hurry now, before his head puffs up and explodes.¡± He demonstrated by bulging his own cheeks out with air and crossing his eyes, making a wild face that brought a fit of giggles to his daughter.


    He was right, of course. The Tsun would already be pacing back and forth, ranting to himself and the other students about her being late. With a grimace, the eleven-year-old quickly began climbing once more. In moments, she made it to the top of the shield (the rim was wide enough for a dozen men to lay head to foot from the front to the back), where several crop-bundlers loading supplies into wooden crates and barrels teased her about being late. She shot back her own remarks about focusing on their own work, even while sprinting along the shield to reach a wooden rope bridge that extended out along the livestock-filled arm of the colossus toward its chest.


    For the next several minutes, Setrea ran along the various walkways and rope bridges that crisscrossed along the giant statue. She had to dodge around people, most of whom knew her by sight and name and called out their own mixture of encouragement or chastisement.


    Finally, she crossed a bridge extending out from the giant toward a circular platform about ten feet wide, where a youngish man with a shock of bright red hair and tanned skin stood next to an enormous metal pole in the middle of the platform. At the top of the pole was what appeared to be a simple wooden roof, providing cover from the sky as though this was some sort of pavilion. But it was far more than that. A metal box with several levers and complicated-looking dials was attached to the pole.


    The man, Jek, laughed as she approached. ¡°I had a feeling you¡¯d be on your way! The winds said so!¡±


    Panting heavily as she skidded to a stop, Setrea took a second before managing, through heaving breaths, ¡°Please¡­ take¡­ me¡­ around?¡±


    ¡°You got it, kid.¡± Jek gave her a nod before grabbing hold of a leather strap, one of dozens that were attached to the metal pole. ¡°Hold on,¡±  he ordered while tossing it to her. As the girl caught and wrapped the strap around one arm, gripping with both hands, Jek pushed up on one of his levers while simultaneously twisting one of the dials. Immediately, a piercing warning whistle filled the air, informing anyone nearby that the airskipper was departing. At the same time, a long, blade-like metal structure rose out of top of the tall central pole. The ¡®blade¡¯ split apart into two equal pieces before falling in opposite directions, snapping into position to form one long horizontal blade broken up by the center of the vertical pole. Gradually, the blades began to turn, at first slowly before picking up speed, soon spinning so fast they were a blur. Meanwhile, the locks that attached the platform to the colossus released, and, with a quick spin of a dial and gentle push on one lever, the airskipper pulled away and began flying up and around.


    Gripping the strap tight, Setrea watched the colossus below and in front of them. The lower stomach area was where she and most other people lived and worked. Shops and other businesses were in the chest area. Even then, they were flying past the primary market around where the colossus¡¯s heart would have been (the various shops lay both on constructed platforms that extended out from the statue and within the tunnels that had been bored through it).


    Meanwhile, the neck and head were for the city¡¯s leadership and upper class. She¡¯d never been that high. Nor had she been below the waist. The upper legs were where the poorest people lived, those who barely got by. Below that, in the lower legs, were the main barracks where the city¡¯s defenders trained, lived, and worked.


    But Setrea wasn¡¯t heading for any of those places. Their destination, in this case, was the sword-arm, where the schools and training universities stood. All along the flat surface of the statue¡¯s weapon were half a dozen large facilities, with wide combat and athletics grounds between them. The place she was headed for was at the very end of the sword, essentially on the tip.


    Even as they approached, hovering closer, she could see old Master Tsun, with her classmates Naem, Korden, and Lanileth. Lanileth and Korden were sister and brother respectively. They were human, like Setrea herself. Naem, on the other hand, was a Hive-marked with pronounced red mandibles, matching red chitinous skin, a thick black shell on his back, and six arms. Essentially, Marked were those whom, many, many years ago, were mutated to become something half-creature and half-human, with the changes passing down through their descendants. The type of Marked indicated what sort of mutation they had. Hive-marked like Naem looked like insectoid-humans, though specifics varied. Claw-Marked were those mutated to appear closer to felines, Fang-Marked were canines, Scale-Marked were reptilian, and so on. Some lived here amongst other humans as all shared the same ancestors, but Setrea had heard that there were many more in their own hidden cities.


    In any case, all four were watching intently as the airskipper drew closer. No sense in trying to be subtle, so Setrea thanked Jek before releasing her grip on the leather strap. She took a few running steps before flinging herself off the skipper, landing in a roll on the grassy field that had been planted along this part of the statue¡¯s raised blade.


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    ¡°Setrea,¡± Master Tsun chided once she had popped to her feet, ¡°you are late.¡±


    Like Naem, Tsun was Marked. Rather than an insectoid Hive-Marked, however, he was Wing-Marked, appearing to be a humanoid bird of prey whose arms doubled as wings.


    She stammered her apologies, but Tsun wasn¡¯t interested in them. He simply told her she would be staying late to help clean the restrooms to make up for her lack of appreciation for the time of her instructor and classmates, then moved on.


    Moving on, in this case, meant telling the four students to spread out away from each other while facing him, to give one another space. Once they were in position, the old bird-man continued. ¡°Now then, let us see what you have learned so far, my flocklings. What is the name of the warrior whose frozen form our city is built upon?¡±


    Lanileth, a dark-haired, dark-skinned girl several inches taller than Setrea, immediately spoke. ¡°Reahandu the belligerent, Master.¡±


    ¡°Just so,¡± Tsun confirmed. ¡°Reahandu was a great warrior, a champion against the beasts that plague this world. He was one of sixteen, those we revere today for their feats of cunning, bravery, and power. Sixteen champions who led the fight against the invader Edeliens, those monstrous beasts who threatened apocalyptic destruction against our people when we lived upon the ground hundreds of years ago. What happened?¡±


    That time, it was Naem who spoke, his voice broken up by the occasional chitter from his mandibles. ¡°Tch-Brave warriors fought the Edeliens¨Ctch. Used ancient magics¨Ctch¨Cto grow tall, to break-tch the Edelien army. But the Edelien leaders-tch had their own magics. Magics that scattered the champions across-tch the world, and turned them to these¡­ statues.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Tsun again agreed. ¡°Hundreds of years ago, our champions grew to the size we know them to be now and nearly eliminated the leadership of the Edeliens. Yet, with what must have been their last gasp of power, the mad monsters turned Reahandu and the other champions to this¡­ metallic state, which they have been stuck as ever since. But we were not overrun, why?¡±


    Setrea took her turn to answer. ¡°The magic force that gives the Champions their growth power, it still exists, and it gives off a shield that stops any Edelien from getting near.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Setrea,¡± Tsun offered with a nod. ¡°Precisely. Once our ancestors learned that the Edeliens could not come within a certain distance of these frozen champions, we built first camps, then entire cities upon them. Then we began to wait for their awakening. As we have now waited for almost five hundred years.¡±


    After letting those words settle, their teacher continued. ¡°But protection through physical proximity is not the only way our old Champions offer us aid. There are those of us, like the four of you, who are able to Manifest. Korden, what does it mean to Manifest?¡±


    The boy, smaller and shyer than his more bold twin sister, hesitantly answered, ¡°Each of the sixteen champions had their own strengths and powers, incredible skills they used in battle. Someone who can Manifest can¡­ umm¡­ summon the spirit of a Champion and use those skills and powers. Some people who can Manifest can only do one or two Champions, others can do more. The very strongest can manifest any of the sixteen. But uhh, never at the same time. You can only Manifest one at a time, no matter how strong you are.¡±


    ¡°A demonstration, if you would?¡± Tsun requested, gesturing to a large metal ball, about two feet across, with a handle attached to it.


    Korden, in turn, sighed a little self-consciously before walking that way. He put both hands on the handle, took a tight grip, and tried lifting. The heavy ball didn¡¯t budge an inch, no matter how much he tried. Then, the boy stopped pulling and focused. Staring at him, Setrea saw the moment he Manifested. A glowing silver figure that briefly appeared around him, the ghost-like outline of an enormous, bare-chested man with more muscles than any human ought to have. Heur, the barbarian. It was only there for a brief couple seconds before the image faded. Apparently only those who were capable of Manifesting could see those ghostly apparitions when others used them.


    With a loud roar that was entirely out of place with his small form, Korden heaved the heavy metal ball up with one hand, swung it around a couple times, then slammed his opposite fist into it and crumpled the whole thing up with ease. Then he dropped it quickly, staggering a bit as the Manifestation faded. It was hard to hold them for long when you were little. Apparently adults could hold them for a long time, even indefinitely in some cases. But Setrea and her classmates could only manage short bursts.


    ¡°Now then,¡± Master Tsun began, turning her way. ¡°Setrea, if you could¨Clook out!¡±


    Something behind her. She saw the old bird-man¡¯s eyes widen, heard a trio of screams from the other three students. She heard a roar. Then a light, blinding in its intensity, the roar growing deafeningly loud as the girl froze in terror and confusion.


    A voice screamed unfamiliar, strange words at her. She had no idea what they said, but the words seemed to come from inside blazing lights that had suddenly appeared in Setrea¡¯s vision. An instant later, those lights suddenly cut to the side, as a metal monster went screaming past. It was followed by another, coming up just as quickly with a loud, blaring noise just like its packmate, and more bellowed words she didn¡¯t understand.


    Before the second metal beast could devour her, or the first could spin back to finish the job, the girl hurled herself out of the way, landing on stone-like ground while crying out for Master Tsun.


    He wasn¡¯t there. No, she wasn¡¯t there. She wasn¡¯t on the statue. She was¡­ she was somewhere else. Raising her gaze as she lay on the¡­ stone ground, Setrea swept her gaze around wildly. More fast-moving metal monsters with lights on their faces, roaring at everyone they passed. Humans walking in every direction, ignoring the monsters like they weren¡¯t there. Bright, colorful lights, enormous buildings, far higher than any that could have stood upon the Frozen Champions. People shouting back and forth.


    ¡°Wha¡­ what¡­?¡± Speaking in a trembling voice as she sat there on the strange ground, looking at the baffling, terrifying sights around her, Setrea stammered, ¡°Where¡­ where am I? Papa? Papa where are you? Papa!¡±


    A voice from nearby snapped something, though the words were again unfamiliar. The tone, however, was one of annoyance. When Setrea¡¯s gaze turned that way, she found herself facing two men in some sort of uniforms, like the army her papa had been part of before. The uniforms were blue-black rather than green, and didn¡¯t seem to have any armor. They did have what looked somewhat like deuther sticks, except black instead of white and without the spike on the end.


    The man who had spoken said something again. And again, Setrea didn¡¯t understand him. He was speaking in some¡­ strange language. But she did understand when he stepped closer, raising a hand. She understood he was trying to stop her, trying to grab her. His hand caught her arm, as he said something else, a little more forcefully, as if she had been ignoring him rather than completely incapable of understanding.


    Setrea tried to pull away, snapping for the man to let go. But he seemed just as confused by her words as she was by his, the grip on her arm only tightening.


    In a blind panic, terrified of everything around her, she lashed out. ¡°I said, let go!¡± Without thinking, she focused on everything Master Tsun had taught. She thought of Alistae, the one member of the sixteen champions she¡¯d already learned to Manifest. Alistae, the man who was as much an entertainer as he was a warrior. He was an acrobat, whose feats of athleticism had been legendary even when he was a child younger than Setrea. But he had also been trained from birth to be an assassin. His powers were geared toward that, as Alistae was always capable of holding an audience¡¯s rapt attention, or pushing it away when he needed to be subtle.


    It was his intangible form, invisible to all but her, that appeared around Setrea for a moment when he was called upon. His lithe figure with that broadly smiling face and cool, observant gaze, his twin teuste daggers held in a reverse grip in both hands.


    The girl felt his power, his skill, his quiet confidence and boundless joy for the world he fought to protect. She felt it as a rush, eyes opening wide with a gasp as she shoved the uniformed man away from her once more. That time, she did so while summoning Alistae¡¯s power to draw attention. In that moment, everyone on the street suddenly snapped their gazes to her, giving Setrea a burst of strength that allowed her to shove the man who was holding her back. Except it did more than shove him back. In her panic, she actually bodily threw him into the other man, both of them crashing to the ground.


    Now they were mad. And everyone on the street, all these strange people, were suddenly shouting at her. They were all mad. They saw her throw the uniformed man, and now they were coming. They were coming after her.


    She reversed the power. Alistae¡¯s attention-drawing ability that boosted his strength for everyone looking at him abruptly became an attention-diverting power, forcing everyone to look away from her and become distracted by literally anything else. It also boosted her speed.


    That speed was what Setrea used, pivoting to flee. She ran away from the people there before the power could slip. She already felt herself losing control of the Manifestation. She¡¯d never been good at holding it for more than a few seconds at a time. Now she just had to get away before the angry people remembered her again. She had to get away, had to¡­ had to figure out where she was, what all these people were, how they could be on the ground with all the Edeliens out there. What language they were speaking. What those big metal monsters that kept roaring at her as they raced past were. How they could have buildings like this. What those awful smells were. It felt like she couldn¡¯t breathe.


    And most of all, how she was going to get home.


    *****


    Ten Years Later


    With a startled gasp, Setrea woke, jerking up in her bed before looking around and easing herself. She wasn¡¯t back home. She was here on Earth, as she had been for some time.


    She called herself Grandstand now, after a decade of learning the language and customs of the people in this world. Because yes, it was an entirely different world that Setrea had found herself on. She still had no idea how she¡¯d ended up here, or how to get home. But she knew that to do that, to find a way back to her own world, she had to have two things: money and power.


    Working for Cu¨¦lebre, being his second-in-command, was how she would get that money and power. She used her ability to Manifest Alistae in order to pretend to be one of these ¡®Touched¡¯, which helped explain why she was capable of doing the things she did.


    She¡¯d been trying to learn to Manifest others, but thus far had had no luck. Either because she would only ever have been able to Manifest the one, or because she wasn¡¯t on her own world. Alistae¡¯s power had come to this place with her, that was all Setrea knew. She was sure she wouldn¡¯t find out the truth until she got home, to her real home, where her papa (that was the closest word in English to what she knew him as) was waiting.


    The Ministry. They had the power, the resources, to help her. More to the point, they controlled Braintrust, the collection of Tech-Touched who had the best shot at sending her home. But she didn¡¯t trust them. Any of them.


    She didn¡¯t trust Cu¨¦lebre either, but she could pose as his loyal second, she could fill the role, just as Alistae had in all of his performances both on and off the battlefield. She would bide her time, until an opportunity came to seize the influence she wanted, influence that would force Braintrust and anyone else she needed to find a way to send her back where she belonged.


    At times she almost lost faith. She¡¯d been in this world now very nearly as long as she had lived in her own. Then, she had been only this world¡¯s equivalent of eleven years old. Now, she was twenty-one, a full adult, even to these people.


    But she would not give up. However long it took, Setrea would find a way to get back to her world. She had to. She couldn¡¯t give up on her papa. After all, if he was in this position, he would never give up on her.


    She just wished she knew what the thing behind her back home had been, and how (not to mention why) it had sent her here. But she had figured out one thing at least. On the same night that she had come here, at the exact same second she arrived, three others right here in Detroit had vanished. The other three had all been her age, two girls and a boy. None were related and they had not been anywhere near the same location. But all three had simply vanished into thin air while people were looking at them, and all of the witnesses had reported seeing a ¡®giant statue¡¯ in the instant before the children disappeared.


    Somehow, when Setrea was sent here, three kids from Earth were sent to where she had been. But how? Why?


    And, most importantly, what happened to them once they showed up there?

 Trust 15-01

    That joint, blurted outburst came, followed by silence. For several eternally long moments, Izzy and I simply stared at one another. We said nothing, we did nothing. At least, not outwardly. Inwardly my mind was racing along at breakneck speed along a crowded track, plowing its way through every other thought in existence just to focus on a single, solitary realization.


    Izzy was Raindrop. Izzy Amor, the girl who had been living in our house, was Raindrop.


    Oh my God, that explained it. That¨Cthat explained¨Cokay not all of it. But it explained why my parents wanted her protected, why people might be after her, why she might have nightmares. It explained¨Cit explained so much. So goddamn much that I¡¯d been completely lost on suddenly made a lot more sense. I didn¡¯t have all the pieces yet, but this was a pretty big one. She was Touched. She was Raindrop. She-she¨Coh. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, she was Raindrop.


    And she knew who I was.


    That second realization struck the first, plowing into it like a semi obliterating the racecar that had been the thought that Izzy was Raindrop. Because the fact that she knew my identity could be the single most dangerous thing in the world. Did I know her? Did I really know her, how she might react, what she might do, who she might tell? How much did I really know about her, given I hadn¡¯t even known she was Touched until now? My parents, they¡¯d taken her in. If they¨Cif she thought they were¨Cif she trusted them more than me, if she even let on at all¡­


    Whatever Izzy or I might¡¯ve said next, whatever we might¡¯ve done if left completely on our own, we¡¯d never know. Because in that moment, just before one of us would have had to make a move or say something, we both heard the sound of the balcony doors directly below us opening. The instant that happened, both of my hands reflexively snapped up as I lay on my back on the roof. I shot red and black paint at Izzy before slapping my hand against the roof and applying black and red paint there. Then I activated all of it together. The girl was silenced and yanked toward me, pulled right down out of the sky. She hit the roof (fairly gently, but I really was in a rush) completely silently, just before we heard the voice of my father, apparently talking on the phone. He was speaking Japanese, so I had no idea what he was saying. But he was there. Right there, so close below the two of us. If he had the slightest reason to suspect anything and climb up to look around, it could lead to a lot of questions. It could¡­ God, oh God.


    Izzy was lying next to me. The moment we heard Dad¡¯s voice, both of us froze. Well, mostly. I lifted my hand very slowly, staring at the other girl while putting my finger to my lips. I couldn¡¯t say anything. I didn¡¯t trust even the quietest whisper. All I could do was press my finger to my lips like that while staring intently at her, pleading with my eyes for her to please, please just trust me and stay quiet. At least long enough for Dad to go back inside.


    Would she listen? Would she stay where she was and not make a sound, even after the black paint wore off? Because if she was determined to draw my father¡¯s attention, there wasn¡¯t much I could do about it. Any attempt to fight with her, to keep her from getting to him, would make noise anyway. He would hear us, the scraping along the roof. I could silence the area around us, could silence both of us, but could I do all that and hold her down? And what about after those ten seconds? What about the next ten minutes, the next ten hours? If Izzy was determined to make Dad notice what was going on, what could I do about it?


    The panic must¡¯ve been written across my face, because Izzy¡¯s hand rose. I flinched, but she was just pressing her own finger against her lips. Agreeing. She was showing me that she agreed, that she would be quiet and still. She wasn¡¯t going to draw Dad¡¯s attention.


    Not yet, anyway.


    My father¡¯s voice droned on in Japanese in the background. He sounded happy about something, but maybe that was just because I couldn¡¯t understand the actual words. Either way, he kept talking while Izzy and I just lay there, face-to-face and inches from one another. I could see the wheels working in her head. She was probably going through the same thought process I was about this whole revelation, only the other way around. I was Paintball. We¡¯d worked together, fought together, we were at the theater dealing with Suckshot together, and helped to clean up afterward. All that time, while I¡¯d felt like Raindrop was familiar somehow?


    God, it made so much sense. It really did. It made more sense than I could believe. Izzy was Raindrop. Of course my parents would want her to be protected. Even if she wasn¡¯t on their side openly yet, look at what they were doing for her. They could so easily groom her to be loyal to them once she knew the truth. They could ease her into it, show her all the good things that the Ministry was able to do, before gently breaking the truth about what it cost, the bad things they had to do to get to that point.


    I had no idea what had happened to Izzy¡¯s parents to get her here, exactly. I didn¡¯t know what had given my parents the opportunity to take her in. I did believe that they didn¡¯t want to hurt her, I¡¯d figured that much out even before this whole accidental revelation. She wasn¡¯t being held as a hostage against someone. But now? Now it made even more sense. She was a young, powerful Touched, a member of the Minority who would probably have her pick of adult teams when the time came. Fuck, getting the chance to ensure her loyalty must¡¯ve made my parents positively dizzy with anticipation.


    As to what Izzy herself was thinking as she lay there staring at me in silence, I had absolutely no idea. I had no clue what could possibly be running through her head just then. Did she have the slightest idea why I was so terrified by the prospect of my father finding us? Did she think it was just normal secret identity stuff, me not wanting my parents to find out I was Touched? Was there an inkling in her head about just how serious it all really was?


    I didn¡¯t know. I couldn¡¯t read her mind. All I did know was that she stayed quiet, silently staring at me while the two of us listened to my father¡¯s voice. For a minute, then two minutes, then three, we laid there as still as possible. I prayed that whatever deal he was making, or arrangement, or whatever it was, would be settled soon. It was the middle of the night here, but still business hours in Japan. I knew from all those clocks in my room that there was a fourteen hour difference between Detroit and Tokyo. So two-thirty AM here was four-thirty PM there. No wonder Dad was making a call so late.


    Despite everything going on with Izzy right now, I really wished I understood Japanese. Or that I¡¯d had the forethought to grab my phone so I could record him and use the translation app.


    Instead, I lay there, staring at the younger girl until I finally heard my father wrapping things up. I still didn¡¯t speak the language, of course, but I recognized it in his voice. He was saying a few last things, offering thanks and a couple pleasantries. It was the same thing in any language, apparently, coming from him.


    He disconnected the call. Then there was silence. This, of course, was the most dangerous moment. If he got curious about any sound he might¡¯ve heard up here, if we relaxed a little too early and accidentally allowed him to hear something¡­


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    There was a long, heavy exhale. Dad sighing. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a good sigh or a bad one. Whichever it was, he tapped the railing a couple times, rapping it with his knuckles. Then I heard the creak of his feet moving back across the balcony, followed by the squeak of the sliding glass door as he closed it behind him after stepping inside.


    Still, I didn¡¯t move. Not yet. He could have simply closed the door without going in. I waited for a few seconds, straining my ears to listen for anything, any indication that he was still there. Getting nothing didn¡¯t make me feel any safer. So, I painted my shirt black. Doing so made Izzy¡¯s eyes widen, but I kept my finger to my lips. Then I maneuvered myself around, very carefully peeking over the edge of the roof to look down toward the balcony while trying to show as little of myself as possible.


    Empty. It was empty. He was gone.


    Which left Izzy and me laying there on the roof, staring at one another. Even with Dad gone, the two of us still didn¡¯t say anything. Not at first, anyway. We just stared in silence, each of us clearly fighting for the right words. Or for any words, really. Because what the hell could we say?


    Finally, I spoke in a very, very soft whisper. ¡°In my room. Talk there. Not here.¡± I would feel at least marginally safer having this discussion in that kind of privacy, rather than out here on the roof. And it would give me a few extra precious seconds to think about what I was going to say.


    Izzy hesitated before giving me a silent nod. It looked like she was having just as much trouble as I was to find the right words. And she was probably just as grateful for the moment to think.


    So, the two of us very quietly moved off the roof and found our way back down the building to where my own balcony was. With a bit of paranoid glancing around, I hopped down before slipping into my room. Izzy was right behind me, and I turned to shut the sliding door.


    Even then, I didn¡¯t speak right away. First, I moved to open my bedroom door, peeking out into the hall and looking both ways before shutting it. Then I turned back to Izzy, who was still standing near the balcony door. For a moment, I just watched her, our eyes meeting. This was it. No more excuses. No more waiting. I had to say something, right now. It might be one of the most important things I ever said in my life, given how easily Izzy could destroy said life.


    So, of course, the first thing that managed to pop out of my mouth was a flat, ¡°Hi.¡±


    Izzy, for her part, seemed just as lost on a response. Her mouth opened and shut a few times while her expression twisted with obvious confusion before she settled on an identical, ¡°Hi.¡±


    But as inadequate as that single word of unnecessary greeting might have been, it did its job of starting the conversation. As soon as the greetings were over, I blurted, ¡°You¡¯re Raindrop. You¡¯re part of the Minority. You¨Cyou¡¯re¨Cwe were¡­¡± My hands were gesturing off outside, awkwardly trying to wave off into the city where the two of us had fought together.


    ¡°You¡¯re Paintball.¡± Izzy¡¯s voice made it clear that she was still reeling from that. Possibly even more than I was reeling from the revelation of her identity. ¡°He¡¯s not¨CI mean he¡¯s not a he. You¡¯re a¨Cyou¡¯re¨Cit¡¯s you. All that time, all those things you¨Cwe did, and you¨Cit was you.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re you,¡± I managed a bit awkwardly, staring at her. ¡°This whole time, you¡¯ve been¡­ and my parents¡­¡±


    ¡°They know,¡± Izzy quickly put in. ¡°They know who I am. Silversmith and your dad, they¡¯re friends or something. They¨Che said I¡¯d be safe here. Silversmith, I mean. After what my mom¨C¡± She cut herself off, looking briefly stricken before her head shook. ¡°But you¨Cthey don¡¯t know about¡­¡±


    I was too busy reeling from what she¡¯d said to respond immediately. Friends. She thought my dad and Silversmith were friends. So she didn¡¯t know the truth. She didn¡¯t know. Dad was keeping her in the dark about his true identity, at least so far. What exactly did that mean?


    Finally, I got it together enough to shake my head. ¡°They don¡¯t know about me. They can¡¯t. They¨C¡± Fuck. What was I supposed to say? How much could I tell her? My mind was racing, panicking. My heart was in my throat while beating so hard it might just explode. If I told her the truth¨Cbut that would mean¨Cand if she didn¡¯t¨Cand if she ever¨Coh God. Oh God, what now?


    She must have seen the terror flashing through my eyes. The next thing I knew, Izzy had crossed the distance between us, her hand raising to take mine. ¡°Cassidy?¡± Her voice was gentle, more like she was the older one between us. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? It¡¯s okay, I¡¯m not¨C¡± Something seemed to catch in her throat before she pushed on. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna tell your parents, I swear. If you don¡¯t¨CI mean¡­¡± She trailed off again, staring at me indecisively for several long, silent seconds before finally asking, ¡°Do they hurt you? Have they ever¡­¡±


    The implication made my eyes widen, and I quickly shook my head with a blurted, ¡°No! No, they¡¯d never¨CI mean they¡¯re not¨CI mean I¡¯m just¡­¡± Fuck. What did I say to that? They never abused me, but they still weren¡¯t good people. They treated me like a princess, while being supervillains who ruled over almost all crime in the city? How was I supposed to tell her that?


    If I told her. If I said as much as I knew, I would be handing my entire fate over to someone else. I had spent months by this point having no one to trust, no one to really talk to about what was going on. I¡¯d come close with Paige just today, but she was out of it for now.


    I was so tired. I was so¡­ empty. I loved my family, but they were¡­ they were doing evil things. And I had nobody I could trust. Nobody to vent all of this to. I had spent so long, so much time in these past couple months just entirely incapable of talking to anyone, holding all my feelings in, terrified of being found out, unable to totally relax even in my own house¡­


    I slumped. My knees went weak, and I sat down, almost falling. My butt hit the floor as I drew my knees to my chest, hugging my legs. As my forehead pressed against my knees, I felt the tears start to come. My shoulders were shaking. Nausea, born both of terror and emotional exhaustion, rose through my body and I nearly threw up. For a little while, I couldn¡¯t do anything other than lay my head against my legs like that and let the tears come. I was done. After everything that had happened just today, with all the Paige revelations and all that fighting, let alone the emotional trauma of the past couple months¡­ I couldn¡¯t do it. I needed a minute. I needed far more than that, but that at the very least. I needed¡­ I needed¡­


    Trust. I needed someone to trust. I needed someone to talk to.


    Izzy was there. The girl had sat herself next to me, one hand on my arm. She hadn¡¯t said anything for awhile, just¡­ sitting there watching me. When my eyes opened, blinking blearily through the tears, I saw her gaze meet mine. She looked confused, but patient. When our eyes met, the girl spoke quietly. ¡°Cassidy, whatever it is, whatever happened¡­ I won¡¯t tell your parents. I won¡¯t tell anyone you don¡¯t want me to, I promise. I swear. I just¨CI¡¯ll keep your secret. I won¡¯t tell anyone about you being Paintball, or about¡­ anything else. I know you don¡¯t have any reason to believe me. You barely know me. But I won¡¯t.¡± Her hand squeezed my arm, voice sounding firm. ¡°I swear. No matter what happens. No matter what you tell me, I won¡¯t tell anyone else. Whatever it is, whatever happened, I just¡­ I just want you to know that I¡¯ll keep your secret.¡±


    For a moment, I didn¡¯t say anything to that. My eyes closed briefly as a few more tears fell. The emotional exhaustion was still there. Worse than ever, really. Yet, there was something different about it, a sense that someone had thrown a life preserver into the ocean where I had spent weeks drowning. It was right there, inches away. All I had to do was reach for it.


    The boat that the preserver had been cast from could be dangerous. It was that sense of the unknown, the terror that even staying here in the cold, remorseless water could be safer than what awaited if I reached out and took the offered aid. To say nothing of the danger it could put Izzy herself in. Whether or not I trusted her wasn¡¯t the only issue. If she knew the truth, she could be in serious trouble. Especially if my parents even suspected she might know anything damaging about them.


    And yet, she was already in danger. She was here. She had powers. My parents obviously wanted her to join them. That was why they were keeping her here, why they spent so much effort taking care of the girl. They were going to try to openly recruit her eventually. They would try twisting her to their side.


    Realizing my eyes were still closed, I opened them. I met the other girl¡¯s gaze one more time. I felt the certainty of my decision. ¡°Izzy,¡± I started.


    ¡°I need to tell you the truth about my family.¡±

 Non-Canon 2 - La Cassidy

    ¡°What do you mean, I can¡¯t make that my Touched name?¡± Cassidy Evans demanded, hands on her hips as she stared down the man in the golden mask. ¡°It¡¯s perfect! Tell me it¡¯s not perfect.¡±


    Blackjack, in turn, squinted at the girl. ¡°You want to join La Casa,¡± he carefully noted. The two of them were standing alone in his office at the casino his people ran.


    She, in turn, bobbed her head, grinning. ¡°Yup. You guys are cool. I mean, cool enough for what you¡¯ve been so far. But you know what¡¯d make you even cooler?¡± Answering her own question, the girl made a point of waving her hand up and down herself as though in demonstration. Even as she did so, her civilian clothes and skin turned various colors. The words ¡®She¡¯s Awesome¡¯ also appeared on her forehead and cycled through all of her colors as well, for emphasis.


    Clearing his throat, Blackjack pushed on. ¡°Cassidy Evans wants to join La Casa, and you want your name to be¡­¡± He trailed off, clearly unable to make himself finish saying it out loud.


    ¡°La Cassidy!¡± Grinning in that way that made it very unclear whether she was kidding or not, the girl spread her arms wide over her head. ¡°It¡¯s the perfect name! La Cassidy! Don¡¯t you love it?¡±


    Despite the golden mask covering his face, Blackjack somehow managed to look very much like he was somehow regretting several parts of this conversation. ¡°Touched names are supposed to hide who you really are. Something tells me people might work out your secret identity.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s the genius part,¡± she insisted, tone continuing to make her actual seriousness completely impossible to decipher. She could be truly committed to the ridiculous idea, or simply be screwing with him for shits and giggles. ¡°Who¡¯s gonna guess that someone calling themselves The Cassidy is actually named Cassidy? It¡¯s ridiculous! It¡¯s the one name they¡¯ll never guess. They¡¯ll think ¡®well no one¡¯s that stupid¡¯, and bam!¡± Her fist slammed into her palm.


    ¡°It¡¯ll turn out that you¡­ are that stupid?¡± Blackjack finished, lifting his chin curiously.


    Raising a finger to retort to that, Cassidy abruptly stopped. Her head tilted as though running all of that through her brain. Then she blew out a long, heavy sigh. ¡°Weeeelll, maybe I can work up to La Cassidy. You know, after I make a name for myself. Errr, a different name. After I show what I can do! If you¡¯re sure we can¡¯t start with that one?¡± She gave him puppy dog eyes.


    Blackjack, in turn, shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure. Besides,¡± he quickly added, ¡°if you really want to be part of the team, you¡¯ll need to be named like the team. Not¡­ in a parody of the team.¡±


    The girl seemed to consider that for a moment, before giving a nod of acceptance. ¡°Okay, I guess you¡¯ve got a point. I¡¯ll be a good little team player.¡± With those words, she paused, expression turning thoughtful. ¡°But what¡¯s a good name for me that does fit your motif?¡±


    ******


    ¡°Fisher?¡± Eits asked a couple days later as he and Pack headed out to the garage with the new girl. He hesitated, trying to work out the meaning before shaking his head. ¡°Sorry, I got nothing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Pack put in immediately, ¡°What does fishing have to do with gambling or casinos?¡±


    Cassidy, in turn, grinned. Not that they could see it, with her new La Casa-approved costume. It was a pair of black, loose-fitting cargo pants, with a white long-sleeved shirt that was textured to look and feel from the outside like chainmail while still being comfortable, a long red jacket, and black gloves. Her face (and thus her expression) was covered by a red metal helmet that clipped tightly over her entire head and face, with a thin black visor where her eyes were.


    ¡°Not Fisher,¡± she corrected brightly, snickering a little bit. ¡°Ficheur.¡± She carefully pronounced it, over-enunciating so that it sounded more like Fissure than Fisher. Then she spelled the word out. ¡°It¡¯s the name for the machine they use to separate different color chips.¡± With that, she pivoted to face the other two, walking backward so they could see as images of red, black, and blue poker chips appeared on her white costume top, along with the word itself written above. ¡°See? Ficheur, not Fisher. Colors are kinda my jam.¡±


    ¡°I hope making money is your jam too,¡± Pack replied, reaching out to open the back door of the sedan they¡¯d reached before gesturing for their newest teammate to get in. ¡°Cuz as soon as we graduate from villain school, that¡¯s totally what I¡¯m focusing on.¡±


    ¡°Mostly I¡¯m focused on having fun without anyone telling me what to do or how to do it,¡± Cassidy admitted before hopping in. ¡°But I guess having more money isn¡¯t a bad thing. Especially if it¡¯s money that doesn¡¯t come from my super do-gooder family.¡±


    Her words made the other two exchange glances, before Eits cleared his throat and stepped down into the driver¡¯s seat. As one of his mites started the car and Pack got in the other side, the boy asked, ¡°Super do-gooder family?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± From her place in the backseat, the girl reached up to tug the helmet off. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be teammates and all in this villainy thing, so hi!¡± She shook the long side of her dark hair out, holding the helmet against her chest. ¡°I¡¯m Cassidy Evans. Yeah, of those Evans.¡±


    The words, and revelation of her identity, made both Eits and Pack spin in their seats to stare into the back at her. ¡°Dude,¡± Dani slowly drawled in a voice that was full of awe. ¡°You know how much money you¡¯re worth? You know how much money your whole family is worth?¡±


    Cassidy, in turn, gave a slight nod. ¡°Yeah, and believe me, I know what it¡¯d sound like if I started pulling the ¡®poor neglected me¡¯ act. My family¡¯s house is basically big enough to have its own zip code. I¡¯ve been on vacation to more countries than you can probably name. My allowance is better than a lot of people¡¯s entire salaries. I am not suffering.¡±


    Again, Pack and Eits exchanged looks, before the latter spoke up curiously. ¡°Are you¡­ bragging about all that?¡± It was weird, her tone didn¡¯t exactly match the words she was saying, leaving both of her new teammates unsure of her point.


    With a shrug, Cassidy corrected, ¡°Not trying to. Just being honest. I know I¡¯m privileged as shit. Trust me, I know all about it. My parents aren¡¯t around much¡­ at all. But they compensated by throwing everything I could ever want at me. They spend like¡­ maybe one night a week at home, otherwise they¡¯re out. We don¡¯t do anything together, not even vacations. Most of those trips I talked about, I went on with just the nanny. So yeah, they¡¯re never home, they act like they barely know what my name is most of the time, and they make up for it by throwing mountains and mountains of money at me. Could be a hell of a lot worse.¡±


    ¡°So why¡¯re you here?¡± Pack found herself asking. ¡°Why do you wanna join a bunch of criminals when you could just sit at home, play video games, and make more money than any of us ever could just by existing?¡± She found it a bit hard to keep all the jealousy out of her voice.


    Cassidy exhaled, her next words very pointed. ¡°Because it¡¯s boring. Look, I know how that sounds, right? I know. Poor me, my super-privileged and perfect life isn¡¯t exciting enough. But I just--I just want to do my own thing. I wanna have fun. I wanna get out and have a little excitement, a little danger. I want to¡­ see what I can do without my parents as a safety net. I wanna see what I¡¯m capable of, without all those rules and restrictions. Just me, with my own powers. I mean, and you all. But not my family. That¡¯s my point. I wanna see what I can do. Yeah, it¡¯s not some tragic, dark and emotional backstory. But at least it¡¯s me. If I succeed, I want to do it my way, without them.¡±


    ¡°So I guess that means no asking you for a few hundred thousand dollar loans?¡± Pack (mostly) teased after recovering from that whole revelation.


    ¡°Even my parents might have questions about that,¡± Cassidy retorted before adding, ¡°Besides, that would kinda be going against my whole ¡®see what I can do by myself without their money¡¯ thing. But hey, I could help you get rich. That¡¯s part of being the whole criminal thing, right? I mean, after we go to this school thing. Wait, is it really a school? I thought Blackjack might be fucking with me.¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Nope, it¡¯s really a school,¡± Eits assured her. ¡°He wants everyone to have training before he lets them start¡­ working. Touched or Prevs. Doesn¡¯t matter. If you work for Blackjack, you get training.¡±


    ¡°Okay then,¡± Cassidy reluctantly agreed, ¡°I guess we should hurry up and get there then. Sooner we get through these classes, the sooner we can get to the fun stuff.


    ¡°And speaking of fun stuff, let me tell you about a name that¡¯s even better than Ficheur¡­¡±


    *******


    Several Months Later


    Two armed security guards patrolled the outside of the En Route (an online store and delivery service) warehouse on the outskirts of Detroit together. Their radios crackled now and then, giving reports from other guards on duty spread throughout the extensive complex. The warehouse, where orders were packaged and shipped throughout the state, was a tempting target for would-be thieves. Thus, they were not only protected by over a dozen armed guards at any given time, but those guards were trained and supplied by the Ten Towers alliance of companies. And there was always at least one Touched member of the Ten Towers on-site at all times, with others available to be called in when needed. En Route was a member company of Ten Towers itself, the second-to-latest to ally with the organization before Aether Airlines.


    All of this, combined with the fact that the local police precinct was deliberately close enough to provide assistance very quickly, made the warehouse a poor target, however tempting it might have been. Outside of a full-on assault, stealing from the place was generally dismissed by most as being too costly and dangerous. Stealing from the trucks that delivered goods back and forth was one thing, but the idea of actually getting into the warehouse and out again with the amount of protection it had was something only entertained by the semi-crazy and those who wanted to make a name for themselves.


    Or, perhaps in this case, both.


    The two guards had just paused to look at one another for a momentary chat, when a voice abruptly spoke from the top of the nearby wall. ¡°You know what I really hate?¡±


    Both men¡¯s gazes jerked that way in time to see Cassidy, in her La Casa costume, perched directly next to the security camera there. The camera had stopped rotating. As they reacted, she continued, ¡°You know when you¡¯re shopping online, you run the search, and the results come up? You see exactly what you want, click it, and it¡¯s perfect, right? It¡¯s totally perfect. But then it says the item is unavailable. If it¡¯s unavailable, why is it in the search results?!¡±


    While she was talking, neither man noticed the two glowing, five-inch tall ghost-like figures fly out of the darkness behind them to land in their radios. It was one of those radios that one of the men grabbed, hitting the button as he blurted, ¡°We¡¯ve got a situation here.¡±


    At the same time, the second man jerked his pistol from its holster, pointing upward. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are, but don¡¯t move! You¡¯re on private property, and--¡±


    Two things happened then. First, the man with his gun out suddenly found it torn from his hand by a large, invisible figure that had been standing beside him. Twinkletoes, the chameleon-gorilla, lifted the man by his arm while plucking the gun from his grip. He started to scream, but a shot of black paint silenced him so that he simply flailed soundlessly.


    Simultaneously, there was a response from the radio in the other man¡¯s hand. But it wasn¡¯t the response he expected. Instead of acknowledgment and promise of back-up being on its way, the sound of someone giving a very obnoxious raspberry filled the air. A moment later, the radio vibrated violently in his hand, making the man yelp and drop it.


    By then, of course, he had recognized the danger his partner was in, being held off the ground by an invisible creature. Hurriedly, he jerked his own pistol out, only for it to be hit by a shot of red paint and yanked away from him while Cassidy leapt, caught the weapon, and landed beside him.


    She examined the gun briefly before tossing it aside with a shrug. ¡°First, hiya! Name¡¯s Ficheur. Good to meet ya. Second, gonna need you guys to--uhh, Twinkle?¡±


    Before the men could try to figure out what in the name of God she meant by apparently asking them to ¡®twinkle¡¯, the invisible gorilla obediently dropped the first man next to his partner.


    ¡°Thanks, Twinkle,¡± Ficheur brightly chirped before focusing on the men. ¡°Anyway, gonna need you to hand over your keys. We can fake most of the tech stuff, but since your boss insists on having real, physical keys on top of all those other things, we need those too.¡±


    ¡°Wh-why would we give you that?¡± one of the men demanded. ¡°In five minutes, this whole place is gonna be swarming with reinforcements. More armed guards and Touched. Believe me, kid, you¡¯ll never get in the building. Might as well take off now while you still can. Why do you think you¡¯re the only ones to try to rob this place in the past year?¡±


    A bright blue smiling face appeared on the front of Ficheur¡¯s (currently white) metal helmet, as she spread her arms to both sides while proudly declaring, ¡°Cuz we have style! Also, a giant lizard-bear.¡± She added that last bit with a nod of her head to a point behind them.


    ¡°A giant lizard-be--¡± The man who had been picked up by Twinkletoes started to turn to look while echoing her words, only to find himself face-to-face with Mars Bar. Both men started to scream, but once again Cassidy silenced them with black paint. The lizard-bear, meanwhile, slammed both paws down just hard enough to knock the men to the ground.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Pack confirmed while stepping out from behind her pet. ¡°Giant lizard-bear.¡± She had a shotgun pointed at the prone men, not that she needed it, given the presence not only of Mars Bar on her left, but also Holiday the panther-lizard on her right. Both mutated creatures ensured that neither man had any plans of trying anything heroic just then.


    ¡°Now, like the girl said,¡± Pack continued pointedly. ¡°Hand over the keys. Quick quick like little bunnies. Or, you know, I can get Holiday here to chase you like little bunnies.¡± She patted the animal in question, who growled at the men.


    Reluctantly, both men handed over their keys. They weren¡¯t normal keys, of course. Those were too easily copied or reproduced. These were slightly larger than ordinary modern keys, sized and shaped more like those old heavy-duty versions used in the eighteen hundreds. They were made of a special, secret material. When inserted into the proper locks, anything made out of something other than the material these keys were would simply melt. It was a security system used by the Ten Towers organization to protect their products, though the material for the keys was still rare enough that it hadn¡¯t yet spread everywhere they did business.


    With both keys in hand, Ficheur waved cheerfully. ¡°Thanks! Now, turn over and lay on your stomachs.¡±


    The men, after a brief hesitation, did so. Once they did, Cassidy shot a circle of pink paint near each of their hands. She and Pack each took a man, pushing their hands into the clay-like asphalt until it turned back to normal, leaving them both trapped there. They then quickly gagged the men with tape and cloth, rose, and started off together, flanked by Pack¡¯s lizard friends.


    Soon, they met up with the other two members of their quartet partway across the lot, Eits and Broadway. The two were standing over another pair of guards who had come around the corner of the building while all that was going on.


    ¡°We still good?¡± Pack asked.


    ¡°Totally clear,¡± came the response from Eits. He gestured to the far end of the complex. ¡°The rest of security is busy dealing with my friends over there.¡± His ¡®friends¡¯, in that case, were more of his mites, which had taken over a couple delivery vans and took off with them for a joyride around the parking lot, drawing everyone¡¯s attention save for the four guards who had already been on this side and were now dealt with. ¡°Should have a few minutes before they figure out it¡¯s a distraction.¡±


    Together, the four La Casa Touched jogged through the shadows to one of the warehouse entrances. Eits¡¯ mites took care of any electronic surveillance issues, just as he had with the camera back at the wall. As far as those inside the security center were concerned, this side of the building was clear. Helped, of course, by the distraction on the far side of the complex.


    They used the physical keys they¡¯d taken from the other guards, combined with manual security codes they¡¯d acquired earlier that day, and another of the mites, to get through the three security doors and into the warehouse proper, where thousands upon thousands of racks of various things were stored. Everything from expensive electronics, to small chew toys for dogs, to pet food, to painting, clocks, furniture, and more were stored here, waiting to be shipped.


    Wasting no time looking around, the quartet headed straight for one particular corner of the warehouse in particular. They knew where they were going, and had planned their entrance for this very spot. On the way, Eits sent another mite to grab a forklift, bringing it over with a steady hum.


    ¡°This it?¡± Pack asked, patting a large metal crate, five feet across by three feet high, with 3839AZB73 stamped across the side.


    ¡°That¡¯s the one,¡± Cassidy confirmed. ¡°Two thousand state of the art cell phones ready to be delivered to one of the technical consulting firms owned by the Evans family. After all, if their employees are gonna inspire confidence, they¡¯ve gotta show up with the very best in communication technology.¡±


    With a snicker, Broadway put in, ¡°Yeah, well, too bad for them we¡¯ve got an inside source about that kind of thing. Makes it hard to keep secrets.¡±


    ¡°They caught the vans,¡± Eits abruptly announced. ¡°Figured out there¡¯s no one inside. Think we should probably get a move on.¡± Even as he spoke, the boy was sending his commandeered forklift to pick up the crate.


    ¡°Right, let¡¯s go.¡± Pack gestured for her animals to accompany them before glancing to the other two Touched. ¡°Broadway, Ficheur, you ready for your next part?¡±


    The two exchanged looks, before Cassidy spoke with a clear grin in her voice. ¡°You mean the part where we go get the security and heroes to chase us while you guys sneak out the back with the goods?¡± With those words, she and Broadway exchanged high fives. ¡°Yeah, I think we can handle it.¡±


    That said, she and Broadway took off together, sprinting through the warehouse to get to the other end. The time for being subtle and quiet was over.


    Time for a little fun.

 Trust 15-02

    It wasn¡¯t easy. I had been holding everything in for so long, only giving out very vague and tiny scraps of information. And even that was done incredibly seldomly, with Pack and That-A-Way, just to explain the part about the Ministry. Telling anyone the actual truth, all of it, was completely new. And hard. The words just kept¡­ not coming. I would fall silent in mid-sentence, staring at the floor or at the wall while telling myself to keep going, to spit out the next word.


    Not helping, of course, was the fact that I felt cold. It was weird. The temperature of the house was always perfect. Especially in our individual rooms. The air was set exactly the way I liked it in here. And yet, from the moment I started to explain everything that had happened, all that I¡¯d found out since that night I stowed away in the back of Royal Thunder, I felt progressively colder and more uncomfortable. The more I spoke, the worse it got. I drew my knees to my chest, hugging my legs as I forced myself to keep going, to keep explaining all of it.


    I was terrified. Not really of Izzy¡­ exactly. I was pretty sure I could trust her, just¨Cjust not positive. And I was afraid of where this would go after I took this kind of leap. Up until this point, I¡¯d had full control of what happened to my secrets, the really important ones. As long as I was the only one who knew, I was the only one who could betray me, even accidentally. But now? Now I was doubling the risk. Izzy. I was telling her my secrets. I was telling her all of it. My family were the bad guys. I was Paintball (though she already knew that part). All the stuff with my memory being erased, with Tomas¡¯s father, with Paige, with my confusion over who the good and bad guys in the city really were given everything I knew, all of it. I was giving her all of it.


    It could go bad. It could go so, so fucking bad. If she messed up, if she said the wrong thing at the wrong time, if she even reacted emotionally to something my parents did or said, that could be it. That could be the end of everything, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to stop it. I couldn¡¯t control her. I couldn¡¯t be there every second of every day just to make sure she didn¡¯t say the wrong thing.


    I had to trust her. There was no choice. I had to believe that she could handle it. I had to tell her the truth, tell her everything I knew, and just¡­ trust that it wouldn¡¯t end in my parents finding out. Because if they did, I didn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t know what they would do. I was afraid to consider it.


    Yeah, fear. That was a running theme at the moment. My throat was dry, my voice shaky, cracking repeatedly as I pushed on through the story. I tried to keep it in as close to chronological order as I could, though I had to go back and clarify things now and then. Especially when it got to the parts with Paige and Anthony. Even though I still didn¡¯t remember the boy exactly, just talking about what my younger self had apparently experienced was almost impossible. My voice shook even more through that part, and I just¡­ I felt terrified. More so than through the rest of it. I felt like I could remember being that little girl seeing all those dead people even though I couldn¡¯t. It was almost like the emotions were almost there even if I couldn¡¯t access the actual memory. I couldn¡¯t imagine what the real thing was like.


    Through it all, Izzy didn¡¯t interrupt. She didn¡¯t ask questions, aside from one or two when my stammering was too confusing to interpret, or to clarify something. For the most part, she stayed completely silent, sitting there a few feet away as she listened to me spilling all of this for the first time. I didn¡¯t look at her. I couldn¡¯t tell how she was taking it. I was too afraid of how she would react, of what would happen if she reacted poorly. Afraid of the disgust I would see when she knew exactly what my family really was, and what they were actually capable of.


    Only when I was pretty sure that I¡¯d said as much as I could, that Izzy had as much of the full story as possible, did I look up. A sigh escaped me. ¡°And that¡¯s basically all of it,¡± I murmured softly. ¡°That¡¯s how I ended up here, doing this. Pretty fucked up, huh?¡±


    For her part, Izzy didn¡¯t respond right away. I had the feeling she needed a little more time to absorb all of that. Which was fair, given the enormity of what I was dumping on her. It was a lot.


    I had no idea how long we sat there like that. Probably not very long, though it felt like forever. The seconds dragged on like minutes while the two of us just stared at one another. Izzy¡¯s mouth opened once or twice, but she didn¡¯t say anything. Not at first. Finally, she tried again, and words finally came out. ¡°Your¨C your dad. He¡¯s Silversmith. He¨Che¡¯s¡­¡± She trailed off, slumping back as an expression of warring emotions crossed her face. That, of course, I understood completely.


    ¡°He saved me.¡± Izzy¡¯s voice was soft and quiet, somehow making her seem even smaller than she was. She looked away from me, staring off into the distance. ¡°He saved my life. I mean¨Che stopped¡­ he saved me. Silversmith, your dad, he¡­ he¡¯s a¡­ he¡¯s a hero. He was my hero.¡±


    ¡°He was my hero too,¡± I agreed, my own voice no louder than hers. ¡°Both of them. Both of him, I mean. My dad and Silversmith. He was¨Cthey were¡­ Silversmith was my favorite hero. And my dad¨CI loved him. I mean, I love him. He¡¯s just¡­ he¡¯s always been my hero. In every way.¡±


    The other girl looked back to me finally, our eyes meeting. I saw the realization there, the understanding. ¡°You¡¯ve been dealing with that all this time. Sitting at meals, living in the same house, talking to him, hugging them?¡±


    ¡°I still love them.¡± The admission was, in some ways, the hardest thing I¡¯d said so far. It made me cringe with shame. ¡°I know it¡¯s wrong. I know it¡¯s stupid. I just¨CI love them. They¡¯re my family. My mom, my dad, my brother. I love them. I want¨CI don¡¯t want it to be this way.¡±


    Izzy shook her head, hesitating before reaching out to barely touch my hand. ¡°It¡¯s not stupid,¡± she insisted in a quiet, yet firm voice. ¡°They¡¯re your family. It¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s not easy to just stop feeling those kinds of feelings. My¨C¡± She cut herself off, biting her lip before clearly forcing herself to push on. ¡°My mom. She tried to¡­¡± Glancing away briefly, the girl steadied herself. ¡°She tried to sell me to Oscuro. She did sell me to Oscuro.¡± There was an emptiness to her voice, a terrible sadness that had always been there. I¡¯d even noticed it repeatedly. But now she was finally telling me where that sadness came from.


    Over the next few minutes, haltingly and shakily, Izzy told me about how her mother had struck the deal with Oscuro, how that Handler guy had shown up and started using his power to force her obedience, and how she had escaped. Well, mostly escaped. She told me how just before she would have been captured again after everything she¡¯d gone through to get away, my father had swooped in as Silversmith to save her. He dealt with the bad guys and protected her.


    No wonder she saw him as a hero, even more than anyone else. Because he¡¯d literally saved her from a life of torture and slavery, from being a mindwashed little puppet for Oscuro. He protected her. Then, though unknown to her at the time, he literally took her into his house. He told her that my dad was just a close friend, someone he trusted to protect her. My dad, Silversmith, they both took care of Izzy at a time when she was most vulnerable. Mom too. They protected her, showed her care and affection after her own mother had betrayed her so thoroughly.


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    And now, after all of that, after all that Izzy had gone through, I was telling her that my family were bad guys. I was telling her that the man who had saved her from slavery, and his wife, who had taken her in and cared for her, were actually supervillains. Not just normal supervillains, but billionaire supervillains who controlled and directed most of the crime in Detroit, if not all of Michigan.


    God, no wonder she was having a hard time with the whole thing. I was surprised this wasn¡¯t going worse, honestly.


    Once the other girl finally finished telling me her own story, I slumped back a bit to digest all of that. My mind was spinning. My¡­ well, basically everything was spinning. This whole thing really filled in a lot of confusing gaps in what I had known. It explained why Izzy was here. She was an incredibly powerful and young Touched. So my parents wanted to raise her, teach her to be on their side. They wanted to mold her into someone who would be part of their organization. Of course they did, because how often did an opportunity this enticing come along?


    Finally, my head shook as I quietly murmured, ¡°Boy, our lives have been pretty fucked up recently, huh?¡± Raising my gaze from the floor, I looked to her. ¡°I know it¡¯s complicated, but I¡¯m glad my dad stopped those Oscuro guys from taking you. For whatever it¡¯s worth, I think¡­ I think you¡¯re better off here than with them.¡± Offering a weak shrug, I added, ¡°Low bar and all.¡±


    Izzy, in turn, flinched a bit before setting her chin to meet my eyes. ¡°Low,¡± she agreed, ¡°but you¡¯re right. Whatever your family is, they¨Cthey¡¯re better than that. As long as you¡¯re not someone who could cause trouble for them that they can¡¯t control.¡± Her voice was flat as she added, ¡°You said they would¡¯ve had you killed if they could. I mean, without knowing who you are. They would¡¯ve killed a kid to protect their secrets. How many people do you think they¡¯ve killed already just to get this far, and to hold onto their power? How many people have died because your dad quietly pushed Touched to other areas so that the criminals who paid the Ministry¡¯s fee could do their thing without being interrupted? I¨C wh-what about Pencil? He¨C¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not part of it,¡± I quickly insisted. ¡°None of the Scions are, believe me. I just¨CI know they¡¯re not. Everything I¡¯ve heard, the way they talk, it¡¯s not¡­ they¡¯re outliers. They don¡¯t follow the Ministry rules, and Pencil is just one of the few who can get away with it. Believe me, my parents want the Scions stopped as much as anyone. I mean, after all, the shit they do is bad for business.¡± It felt gross saying it like that, but it was the truth. ¡°And¡­ and I know my parents aren¡¯t that bad. They¡¯re not like Pencil. It¡¯s not just about business and money. I know that makes me sound like a naive little kid, but it¡¯s true. They have done bad things. But they don¡¯t torture and kill people just for the hell of it. They don¡¯t slaughter innocents just to have a fun time. That¡¯s not¨Cit¡¯s not who they are. It¡¯s more complicated than that.¡± Letting out a breath, I stared intently at the girl. ¡°They¡¯re still bad, they¡¯re just not¡­ not that kind of monster.¡±


    After a very slight pause, Izzy gave a short nod. ¡°You¡¯re right. Not all bad guys are created the same. Your parents¨Cyour family has a lot of power. They do a lot of bad things. But not things like Pencil does. They¡¯re not that kind of monster.¡±


    For a minute or two, we both sat there silently contemplating that. There was more I wanted to say, but I wasn¡¯t sure how, or what exactly. It just felt like I should be talking, should be explaining, or justifying, or planning, or¡­ or something. Instead, I sat there in silence, staring off at my clock wall while utterly failing to find the right thing to say.


    Finally, it was Izzy who spoke. ¡°You¡¯re still trying to find out more about how the whole thing works? I mean, you¡¯re still digging into it. You said there was that thing about the mall¡­¡±


    Quickly, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re gonna try to find a way to get in that secret base. We¨CI mean Pack and That-A-Way and me. Like I said, they¡¯ve been helping. They know¡­ some of it. Not about me. Not about my family. But some of it. The basics about the Ministry and that Silversmith is involved.¡±


    Izzy frowned thoughtfully, face twisting a bit. ¡°No wonder Way was¨C¡± Then her eyes widened as she quickly looked at me. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t know what¨C¡± Cutting herself off abruptly, she looked uncertain.


    I stared at her, confused by that strange reaction. ¡°I don¡¯t know what?¡±


    After a brief pause, her head shook. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not my¡­ I can¡¯t say. Not yet.¡± Hurriedly, she looked back to me, explaining, ¡°I can¡¯t tell other people¡¯s secrets. I can¡¯t just¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured her. ¡°Believe me, I know all about needing to juggle secrets. I won¡¯t push you on it.¡± I was curious about what that was all about, of course, but seriously. Pushing her to reveal more than she was ready to would¡¯ve been the absolute height of hypocrisy.


    ¡°I want to help.¡± Izzy had pushed herself to her feet with that announcement, arms folded against her stomach as she stared at me. ¡°Whatever happens, whatever your family is really into and how bad it is, I want to help you find out. Like that mall thing.¡±


    Wincing, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s not that easy. I mean, think about it, if you use your powers, my parents are going to know that you know about the Ministry. So, best case scenario, they¡¯ll be watching you really closely. Worst case, they¡¯ll do something about it. They¡¯ll either figure out that I know more than I should, or separate us somehow to try and make sure I don¡¯t.¡±


    For a moment, it looked like the other girl wanted to argue with that. But she stopped, sighing. ¡°Right. Kinda hard to contribute and not give away who I am, I guess. And if you tell That-A-Way that I know the truth, it¡¯ll give away who you are. Which, I guess you¡¯re not ready to do?¡±


    Swallowing at that, I shook my head quickly. ¡°Not yet. I mean, I know we can basically trust them. Both of them, for the most part. I just¨CI¡¯m not ready for that. You¡¯re the first¨C no¡­ the second person who knows who I am, aside from Paige. You and her are the only people who know everything I do. Even Paige might not know the whole thing. We didn¡¯t exactly have time to talk about it. And now she¡¯s¡­¡± I trailed off, swallowing hard at the thought of what was going on with that girl.


    ¡°You really haven¡¯t had anybody to talk to about¡­ any of this?¡± Izzy was staring at me. ¡°All this time, I mean, you just barely had that thing with Paige, so you haven¡¯t had anyone to talk to?¡±


    Flushing a little uncomfortably, I pushed myself to my feet and shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. I mean, lots of people have worse things to worry about.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± Izzy insisted before correcting herself. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re right, lots of people have worse things to deal with right now. But you still¡­¡± Trailing off, her eyes widened. ¡°I can help.¡± The words came thoughtfully before she quickly looked up, meeting my gaze. ¡°I can¡¯t go with you without exposing who I am, you¡¯re right. But I can still help. I can talk to you about all this stuff. I can¡­ I can cover for you here. I can help hide what you know, what we know. And I can just be here so you can talk to somebody about it. I can still help.¡±


    Hesitating uncertainly, I slowly asked, ¡°Are you sure you wanna do something like that? You really want to sit here and listen to me babble about my issues?¡±


    ¡°I want to help,¡± the other girl replied firmly. ¡°Whatever I can do. Even just talking and covering for you. And¡­ and being there if you get in trouble. Cuz if something happens, I¡¯m gonna find a way to help, cover or no cover.¡± Her voice was pretty well determined for someone that young.


    Thinking about that, I slowly turned and walked over to my bed to sit on it. My own voice was far more hesitant and uncertain. I sounded (and felt) small. ¡°I guess it would be nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff.¡±


    Izzy moved over to sit on the bed next to me. Her hand found its way to my back. ¡°I¡¯ll listen,¡± she promised in a gentle voice that made her sound far older than she actually was. ¡°Whatever you need to talk about. Whatever you want to say. I promise, I¡¯ll listen.¡±


    The two of us sat there together like that for a minute before she added a quiet, ¡°I do have a question. That¡­ Paige, she¡¯s really like a¡­ a cyborg?¡±


    Coughing despite myself, I heaved a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t think cyborg is exactly the right word. It¡¯s¡­¡± Glancing over to the other girl, I found myself smiling just a little. ¡°Let me tell you everything I know about her.¡±


    So I did. And I talked about other things too, more in depth than I had in my quick runthrough before. I talked, and talked, and talked. And she listened.


    In the end, we both fell asleep there in my bed. And to be honest, it was one of the best night¡¯s sleep I¡¯d had in a long time.

 Trust 15-03

    It was a good thing that the next morning was Sunday. Because that meant there was no maid cleaning my room, so Izzy and I were able to sleep as long as we wanted. And we wanted a lot, apparently. Both of us were completely out of it throughout the morning, neither so much as stirring until almost noon. That was the time I saw on the (local) clock when my eyes opened at the feel of the other girl shifting a bit behind me. Wow, we¡¯d really zonked out, apparently.


    After a brief hesitation, I turned a bit, sitting up as my gaze moved to Izzy. She was staring around the room, only belatedly looking to me with a somewhat guilty expression. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to¡­¡± Trailing off, she clearly shifted her unneeded apology to a question. ¡°How do you do it?¡± The guilty look turned pensive. ¡°How do you stay in a place like this, sleep like this, live like this, while you know where all the¡­ where a lot of it comes from? How do you live knowing what your family really does?¡± Her voice was a whisper, and I saw the way she clutched one of the pillows tightly in both hands, holding it against her stomach after sitting up fully.


    Boy, was that ever a hard question. Yeah, I didn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, I turned to put my back against the headboard, staring around my room along with Izzy. A rush of thoughts went through my mind, before I forced them down and focused. ¡°I tell myself that I grew up with it. I¡¯ve had sixteen years like this. So acting strange about it now would be¡­ weird. It would draw attention. And, you know, that could be bad. If my parents think I know something, if they have even the slightest reason to start paying more attention to what I¡¯m doing or whatever¡­¡±


    Izzy finished for me, her own voice still barely audible. ¡°It could blow everything up.¡±


    Her choice of words made me flinch. Blow everything up, right. Just like that building last night. My head nodded a bit. ¡°Yeah, pretty much. That¡¯s the point, I have to act normal or they¨Cwell, we already know they can erase memories. And Mr. Jackson is here. If they thought the best way to handle the situation was to erase everything I knew about them, they could.¡±


    ¡°You mean we have to act normal,¡± Izzy pointed out, hugging the pillow even tighter. ¡°We have to act like nothing¡¯s wrong, like they¡¯re totally just what they pretend to be. Like we don¡¯t know anything. Because they¡¯ll erase my memory too.¡± There was a little bitterness to her voice. ¡°They¡¯ll erase my memory so they can keep molding me into being their little tool.¡±


    Ah, that was why she sounded bitter. Wincing a little, I hesitated before offering, ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t mean much after everything I told you, but I do think my parents care about you. I mean, I¡¯m pretty sure they also like what you¡¯re capable of and all, but it¡¯s not just that.¡± Even as I said that, my face twisted a little. ¡°I know, I know what that sounds like. Believe me, I know. But it¡¯s true. Two semi-conflicting things can be true at the same time. My parents would like you on their side because of your powers and everything, and they care about you. They do like you, Izzy. I¡¯ve seen the way my parents act with guests they¡¯re just being polite to, believe me.¡±


    After that, I fell silent for a few long seconds, before quietly adding, ¡°But you¡¯re right. They would erase your memory if they found out you knew anything about them. And they wouldn¡¯t give up on turning you to their side.¡± Quickly, I looked that way to meet the other girl¡¯s gaze intently. ¡°That¡¯s why you have to be careful. Because if they find out, if they even get suspicious¨C¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Izzy interrupted. After speaking those two words, she sighed, heaving the pillow away before pushing herself out of bed to stand up. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful. I¡¯ll act normal, I promise. Besides,¡± she added with a little shrug. ¡°It¡¯s not like me being nervous around this place would be new.¡±


    She had a point. Rising to my feet on the other side of the bed, I nodded. ¡°Right, fair. I just¨Csorry, after everything, you¡¯re just¡­ Like I was saying, you¡¯re the first person I¡¯ve trusted with this. I mean, I know we both kind of tripped into that, but still. You¡¯re the only person who knows about me.¡± I repeated that point while looking toward the girl. She held basically my entire life in her hands. And her own life too, come to think of it. Our memories, anyway. Our choices. She held our choices and future in her hands.


    Izzy, in turn, met my gaze seriously while giving one firm nod. ¡°Trust me,¡± she said quietly, yet with a determination that somewhat surprised me. ¡°I won¡¯t give anything away. Like I said last night, I can help cover for you. I can¨CI can be there to talk to when you need it. I¡­¡± Her voice turned soft and small at the end. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to need to talk to somebody.¡±


    For a moment, neither of us said anything. Then she moved away from the bed, adding, ¡°And we can check each other¡¯s memories once in awhile. You know, just in case something goes down and one of us¡­ and they make one of us forget.¡±


    That was also a good point. ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, ¡°we definitely need to do that.¡± Heaving out a long breath, I shook off the feeling of nerves. ¡°But now we should get dressed and all. You ahh, you can take the shower first. ¡°Then we can go get breakfast. Err¡­ lunch.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Izzy offered a little weakly, ¡°at least we¡¯re still blending in. After all, we¡¯re supposed to act normal.


    ¡°And is there anything more normal than teenagers sleeping in until noon?¡±


    *******


    ¡°You know you¡¯re not technically a teenager yet, right?¡± It was later, after the two of us had gotten cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothes. We were back in my room, taking a moment to collect ourselves before heading down for food. I had just looked over at the other girl to blurt that. ¡°You know, cuz you¡¯re¡­ twelve.¡± It sounded more awkward out loud than it had in my head, but I pressed on anyway. ¡°Sorry, my point is, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry all this got dumped on you. I¡¯m sorry¨CI mean, there was that whole thing with your mom, and you were supposed to move to a safe place. And now¡­¡± I swallowed hard. ¡°And now you¡¯ve got all this dumped on you, even though you¡¯re only twelve. You shouldn¡¯t have to worry about all this. Any of it. So, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    For a moment, Izzy didn¡¯t respond. She just looked at me. Seeming to consider that for a few seconds, the girl then moved over to stand in front of me. Her foot snapped out, lightly kicking me in the shin. After I yelped quietly, she pointed out, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to deal with it either. Especially by yourself. And you¡¯re only four years older than me, Grandma.¡± Sniffing with that last point, Izzy added a shrug. ¡°And it¡­ it just is what it is. We both know, we both deal with it. Together, right?¡± Belatedly, she amended, ¡°I mean, sort of together. We can help each other.¡±


    ¡°We can help each other,¡± I agreed, offering her a tiny smile before poking her forehead. ¡°Thanks for not pointing out the obvious, that you¡¯re gonna be taller than me really soon.¡±


    Izzy just offered me a wink. ¡°I¡¯ll save that for if you try to keep me out of things later,¡± she teased a little. Then the girl sobered and added pointedly, ¡°I¡¯m in it, Cass. I know I can¡¯t go out with you or be seen like that or anything without spoiling the secrets, but whatever I can do, I want to.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Izzy,¡± I murmured. The two of us stared at each other for another few seconds before I sighed and gestured. ¡°Come on, if we hole up any longer, Mom and Dad might end up sending a search party after all.¡±


    There was a very brief flash of something on the other girl¡¯s face before she pushed it down. It looked a bit like disappointment. Yeah. This was definitely affecting her. She¡¯d just been opening up to us, just started to trust my parents. And now there was this, after the way her own mother had so thoroughly betrayed her. Fuck. It was so much to dump on the girl. I was surprised she was holding up as well as she was.


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    Though, I supposed the real test would come in a couple minutes, as we went downstairs to face my family for the first time since Izzy had found out the truth.


    God, I really hoped this wasn¡¯t about to go horribly wrong.


    ******


    The first test came before we had even made it downstairs. Just as Izzy and I emerged from the hall where our rooms were, right at the top of the stairs leading up to this floor, Mom was there. It didn¡¯t seem like she was waiting for us or anything. Her back was to us as we came out, and she was in the middle of a conversation on her bluetooth. It was something about setting up a private viewing at one of the art museums for some of her friends next week. Apparently there was some kind of special exhibit in town for a short time, and Mom didn¡¯t exactly want to wait in any lines. Not that it was hard for her to arrange these personal exhibits, given several of the museums in town had entire wings named after our family. Or a building, in one case.


    Apparently she was just finishing up, because Mom glanced over her shoulder as we emerged, holding up one finger before giving a few pleasantries. Then she tapped the earbud and smiled at the two of us. ¡°Well, there you girls are. I was afraid we might have to send in a search team.¡± With that bit of teasing, she added, ¡°And what are we up to today? Any adventures planned?¡± She sounded almost wistful with those words, as though she was so busy with her adult life and responsibilities that she had to live vicariously through our¡­ ¡®adventures.¡¯


    Beside me, I felt Izzy tense up for just a second before she got it under control and forced herself to relax. I was pretty sure there was nothing for Mom to notice aside from the other girl being quiet and a bit nervous. Which, as she¡¯d said before, wasn¡¯t exactly out of the ordinary.


    Quickly, before anything could be noticed, I loudly piped up. ¡°Well, we definitely need food before going on any adventures. It¡¯s been like¡­. forever since we ate!¡±


    ¡°Forever or last night,¡± Mom retorted affectionately, reaching out to brush my hair. I let her do it, resisting both the urge to pull my head away and the one to lean into it. Each was equally strong. God, this was complicated. It seemed even more so now that I¡¯d told Izzy about the whole situation. Feeling her eyes on me as I stood there made me even more uncomfortable.


    But I shoved it down, smiling up at my mother before adding, ¡°You coming to lunch?¡±


    To my relief, Mom offered me another smile before shaking her head. ¡°Sorry, Principessa, you two will have to eat enough for me. I have a meeting to get to in an hour and I¡¯m nowhere near ready. But have some ice cream, will you? Claudio made some fresh last night, and someone in this house should sit and enjoy it. Promise you¡¯ll make sure he knows he¡¯s appreciated?¡±


    ¡°Promise,¡± I agreed, ignoring the lump in my throat as I reached out to take Izzy¡¯s hand. ¡°Come on, we better get to it before Simon hears about this, or we¡¯ll never get any of that ice cream.¡±


    ¡°Uh, thanks!¡± Izzy remembered to call back as I pulled her past my mother and headed down the stairs with her. We both took the steps two at a time, bounding that way in what I hoped looked more like eagerness to get to the kitchen rather than eagerness to get away from Mom.


    Simon and Dad were already eating lunch when we got in there, though it looked like they were just about done. As Izzy and I walked in, both of them gave us the expected ribbing about taking so long to get up. Which was good. Everything being this normal helped ease my lingering paranoia that they would somehow have known what happened the night before. The fact that everyone was still being this casual, teasing us, moving on with their lives, it meant they didn¡¯t know that Izzy knew. And with any luck (and a lot of work on her part) it would stay that way.


    Once the two of us took a moment at the intercom to order food (we were both in the mood for breakfast despite what time it was) and sat down, Dad spoke up. ¡°So, getting pretty close to D-Day, isn¡¯t it? Or should we put it off for another year? You know, until you¡¯re more comfortable.¡± His voice was teasing, knowing exactly what kind of reaction he was drawing out.


    ¡°D-Day?¡± Izzy echoed, blinking over at me. I felt her hand squeeze my leg tightly as she forced her reaction to having to sit here like this to only come out through her grip while keeping her face as clear as possible.


    Putting on a quick scowl for my father, I retorted, ¡°Driving Day. It¡¯s when I graduate from Driver¡¯s Ed and get to go for my actual license. And we¡¯re not putting it off for a year. Or a month. Or a week. I¡¯ve had this day marked in my calendar since I was like¡­ nine.¡± It felt like playing a role that was unfamiliar, or wearing clothes that didn¡¯t fit anymore. I had so many more important things to worry about than driving. But if I didn¡¯t play it up like this, my family would know something was wrong. I had to play the part.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Dad put on a show of lamenting, his head shaking back and forth mournfully. ¡°I¡¯ve had it marked in my calendar too. With lots of sad faces and a note about calling the Department of Transportation so they can put some warning signs out. Maybe get a police escort arranged that can just follow along on both sides of your car like bumpers.¡±


    First, I made a face and threw a rolled up cloth napkin at him. Then I blinked and blurted, ¡°Hah! Haha! Your car. You said your car! As in my car. As in the car I¡¯m getting.¡±


    ¡°Figure of speech,¡± Dad insisted, teasing me right back. ¡°You can drive that old station wagon Mrs. Depel¡¯s been trying to get rid of. I hear it gets up to twenty-five on a decent straightaway.¡±


    ¡°Sure that¡¯s not too much for our little Booster?¡± Simon jumped in, reaching over to ruffle my hair as he got up from the table. ¡°I was thinking like one of those little Power Wheels things would be more her speed.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Dad jumped in, raising a hand to push Simon away before I could retort. ¡°That¡¯s enough. What about today? You ready for the meeting later?¡±


    With a nod, my brother replied, ¡°It¡¯s all set. We should be good to go by the time the Aikawas get to the hotel.¡±


    Before I could figure out how to press them on what that meant, Dad looked to me. ¡°And you girls? Anything big planned?¡±


    My mouth opened, but Izzy spoke first. ¡°Cassidy was going to go with me to the library.¡± Belatedly, she corrected, ¡°the public library. Mr. Tutters gave me a report to write on the Salem Witch Trials for my last assignment before going back to real school.¡±


    Mr. Tutters was the tutor that Izzy had been seeing. But this was the first I was hearing about a trip to the library. Luckily, I had a lot of practice by this point in keeping surprise off my face.


    Dad obviously had a lot of practice too, but still looked surprised then. ¡°The public library? Are you sure? There¡¯s plenty of resources right here.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Izzy quietly replied, ¡°I know, but¡­ it¡¯d be nice to get out and have some fresh air.¡± She met my father¡¯s gaze, offering him an innocent, even eager smile. ¡°And I was thinking a library would be totally safe, right? Especially if I¡¯m actually going to school tomorrow.¡±


    Dad seemed to think about it for a moment before giving a short nod. ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll have a car brought around to take you girls whenever you¡¯re ready. Could I talk to you in the hall for a minute, Izzy?¡±


    Instinctively, I tensed up. But I forced that reaction down, simply nodding. ¡°Better hurry,¡± I remarked, ¡°before breakfast gets here.¡±


    Then the three of them left, Simon going with them. Which left me to sit alone for a couple minutes, staring tensely at the table while wondering what was going on out there. When Izzy finally came back, it was just as our food was being delivered. So, I was silent until we were alone again. Once everything was quiet, I quickly moved to peek through the doors, looking up and down the hall to make sure we were alone before closing the doors once more. Then I went back to the table. But even then, we didn¡¯t talk about anything important. The two of us ate our breakfast and sent the plates back to be cleaned before heading outside.


    Only then, once we were out of the house, did I ask in a quiet voice, ¡°Is everything okay? What¡¯s this about the library?¡±


    Izzy, in turn, nodded. ¡°He just wanted to give me this.¡± In her hand, she held up a small black remote with a button on it, about the size of a normal key fob. ¡°He said if I push the button, it¡¯ll send an alarm and we¡¯ll have like a whole SWAT team show up in sixty seconds.¡± Pausing then, she looked at me. ¡°How come you don¡¯t have something like that?¡±


    Flushing, I admitted, ¡°I do. It¡¯s in my sock drawer where I left it like¡­ years ago. Ever since I accidentally sat on it and our school field trip was ummm¡­ interrupted.¡±


    The younger girl blanched at that. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful. Anyway, for the library thing, I said I¡¯d cover for you, right? This way, we can go to the library and then you can go see what¡¯s going on with Paige. I¡¯ll let you know if anyone shows up.¡± She offered me a shrug. ¡°I really do have to write that report. And I wanted to get out of the house, after¡­ after all that. This way, no one will wonder where you are or anything.¡±


    For a moment, I stared at her. Then I smiled just a little. ¡°Thanks, Izzy.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think you might be pretty useful to have around after all.¡±

 Non-Canon 3 - Detroits Youngest Supervillain

    At seven minutes until closing time on a Friday evening, the bank was as bustling as it had been throughout the rest of the day. Dozens of people were still waiting in line to be seen by one of the tellers, while the tellers themselves cast glances toward the clock with varying degrees of subtlety. They would serve everyone who was already in the bank at the time of close, but they all silently willed the clock to move faster so the security guards could lock up to stop the line from getting any longer. They, after all, had families to get home to as well. Everyone here was wishing, some more patiently than others, for things to move as quickly as possible. They wanted to be done in the bank and get out of there.


    Some of them would end up getting their wish much sooner than they expected.


    As the clock ticked to six minutes remaining, three more shapes passed through the revolving door. These, however, were no customers. They weren¡¯t people at all. Each was a small silver metal orb, roughly the size of a softball, with a single blue lens on one side and a red one on the opposite. They hovered several feet off the ground with a low humming sound, gliding past a startled and confused security guard before proceeding straight to the middle of the main lobby.


    ¡°Uh, better get on the line for some uniforms,¡± the guard, a youngish-man in his early thirties named Travis, began with his hand on the radio attached to his shoulder, unsnapping his holster as he stepped carefully after the orbs, which had just been noticed by some of the customers. ¡°Not sure if we¡¯ve got a prank going on, or--¡±


    From the outward facing red lenses in each of the three orbs, a beam of crimson light shot out. The security guard aborted his conversation to shout the beginnings of a warning to get down, except the beams weren¡¯t targeting any of the customers or employees. Each beam hit a different spot, one a wall, the second part of the floor, while the third was aimed toward the ceiling. The moment those beams struck their apparent targets, most of the lights in the lobby switched off. Which, with the heavy tinting along the front windows, left the room fairly dark. Black enough that the blue and red lights coming off the orbs were the main source of illumination, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.


    Travis and several of his companions already had their weapons drawn by that point, though none opened fire. Whatever these things were, Touched-Tech was obviously involved. And standing orders were not to interfere with Touched-Tech unless you were one hundred percent sure you knew it was safe. In a totally unknown situation like this, they wouldn¡¯t make a move without knowing a hell of a lot more than they knew right now. They certainly weren¡¯t going to shoot at the fucking things like some trigger-happy morons.


    With the lights out, save for the glowing lenses on the orbs themselves, everyone¡¯s attention had turned that way. So everyone saw as the inner-facing blue lenses suddenly cast a trio of azure beams toward the floor. The beams crossed one another, forming a larger, brighter glow right in the central area in the middle of the three orbs. That beam began to grow brighter, while some of the confused customers started backing away, muttering about getting the hell out of there.


    But that muttering was soon drowned out by loud, cackling laughter, magnified somehow to be heard throughout the building. It was high-pitched and almost frantic, like a cross between a cartoon hyena and a Disney villainess. Dark red smoke began to billow forth from the orbs, right into the central area between them where the bright blue beams still shone through the obscuring fog.


    The wild laughter, which had stopped everyone¡¯s words, gradually faded to a soft chuckle that was nonetheless easily audible throughout the room. Then, even that shifted to a pseudo-quiet voice announcing, with deceptive calm, ¡°Those in the front row may want to take a step back. If you¡¯re prone to seizures or have experienced problems with bright strobe lights, avert your gaze. In three¡­ two¡­ one...¡±


    In that instant, as promised, the room was abruptly flooded with a dazzling array of brightly colored strobe lights, harmless lasers that seemed to flash from every inch of the orbs. The beams danced up and down the walls and ceiling, while the smoke grew thicker, yet still constrained only to that single spot in the center.


    Abruptly, with a burst of energy that sounded like several balloons popping, as a handful of small-yet-bright fireworks exploded in the air, the colorful lights cut out. All save for those blue beams that were still pointed inward. A figure was there, barely visible through the rapidly dissipating red smoke. Yet there was something¡­ off about the figure. Something that made everyone lean a bit closer, squinting to find out if their eyes were playing tricks on them, or if--


    ¡°It¡¯s a fucking kid!¡± One of the customers, a heavyset man in his late fifties or so, blurted out loud.


    He was right. The smoke had cleared by then, leaving the blue lights illuminating a quite small figure. The girl who stood before them, with the attention of dozens of employees and customers riveted to her, looked like she couldn¡¯t have been older than nine or ten at most, judging from her height and build.


    She wore a red bodysuit of sorts, with obvious armor panels of a slightly darker red across her shins, thighs, chest, and arms. She had black boots and gloves, with a matching black cloak that was already billowing out behind her despite the lack of wind. It simply billowed constantly, as though she was standing in front of a fan. The hood of the cloak was up over her head, and a smooth, black metal helmet covered her head. The helmet was entirely featureless aside from a pair of red glowing eyes that would have looked quite terrifying within the shadows of the hood, if the entire form hadn¡¯t been barely over four feet tall. And very clearly that of a young child.


    As everyone else in the room exchanged confused looks, the girl abruptly raised both hands, her voice still magnified. ¡°Good evening!¡± she bellowed out loud, voice reverberating throughout the room, ¡°and welcome to my first robbery!¡±


    ¡°Look, kid,¡± Travis the guard started while stepping that way with his free hand out, ¡°that¡¯s enough. I don¡¯t know who you think you are, but--¡±


    In that instant, just as he reached the spot where the orbs were, Travis suddenly found himself standing right back where he¡¯d been when he started walking. There was no warning, no flash, nothing. He was standing over there, took another step, and suddenly he was back here. The room was suddenly filled with gasps, and a few curses of surprise.


    ¡°Who am I?¡± the girl echoed his words with a giggle. ¡°I¡¯m the Baroness of Boost, the Monarch of Movement.¡± As she said those words, Travis abruptly felt the pistol leap from his hand. All around him, the other guards had the same problem, their guns flying away to land on the floor at the girl¡¯s feet as she continued. ¡°I¡¯m the Quicken Queen, the Ruler of Roam!


    ¡°My name is Joyride, and I¡¯m here for your money.¡±


    The announcement made a few of the people laugh, a couple mutter in confusion, and most simply dismiss her out of hand despite the display so far. One of the customers, a tall, blond man in a neatly pressed suit, spoke up. ¡°Listen here, little girl, we don¡¯t have time for your games. Some of us have work to get to. Now take your little toys, and run al--¡± In mid-sentence, the man¡¯s words abruptly turned to a startled, choked cry as one of the floating orbs shot off a quick greenish beam at him. He jerked back reflexively, even as the people around him cried out as well. But he wasn¡¯t hurt. There was no hole in the man, no damage whatsoever. Instead, the moment after the beam struck him, he was suddenly yanked off his feet and flew upward with a loud scream. Soon, he struck the ceiling about twenty feet up and lay flat against it, held there.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± the apparently dubbed Joyride called up to him. ¡°Soon as we¡¯re done, it¡¯ll let you down safely!¡± With that, she turned her attention to the rest of the people around her. ¡°So like, I kinda need everyone to either lay on the floor or lay on the ceiling. It¡¯s your choice, but if you don¡¯t wanna get on the floor, my friends here can always--¡±


    She didn¡¯t have to continue. Before she¡¯d even finished the point, every other person in the room had already flattened themselves against the polished floor. No one wanted to join the first man who had spoken up.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°See?!¡± They had the feeling that the little girl was beaming behind her helmet. ¡°That was easy. Ummm, you, you, and you.¡± Pointing at three different tellers, she tossed each of them a white bag. ¡°Take everything out of the tills and fill those up. You,¡± She pointed to the manager. ¡°We¡¯re going to the vault!¡±


    ¡°B-but listen kid, I don¡¯t know what movies you¡¯ve seen,¡± the elderly woman insisted, ¡°but I can¡¯t open the vault. And the cops are on their way already. The alarm went off. You should just get out of here while you can. Take the money from the tills and run, you won¡¯t get in the vault.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the advice!¡± Joyride blurted cheerfully, sounding completely genuine. ¡°But I know what I¡¯m doing. Let¡¯s go!¡± She started to walk then before doing a quick pivot back to the assembled group who were still lying on the floor. ¡°Oh! And I¡¯m leaving two of my friends here. If you move, they¡¯ll put you on the ceiling. So stay still!¡± Belatedly, she giggled, ¡°Unless you wanna go for a quick trip!¡±


    That was enough to keep everyone on the floor, while the two orbs hovered around playing guards. Satisfied, Joyride skipped along beside the elderly manager, heading for the vault while the third orb kept pace behind them, its red lens staring menacingly at the woman whenever she glanced that way.


    ¡°So, you worked here for a long time?¡± the pint-sized supervillain asked, as though they were simply going for a casual walk. ¡°Do you like it? Do they pay you enough? I bet they don¡¯t pay you enough.¡±


    The woman opened her mouth, hesitated as an uncertain sound escaped her, then shook her head. ¡°Kid, do you have any idea what you¡¯re doing? You¡¯re committing a felony. Do you know what a felony is?¡±


    ¡°Robbing a bank is a bad thing?¡± the girl asked with a voice of put-on surprise.


    With a glance toward the orb behind them, the bank manager, a woman named Carla Pine, gave a short nod. ¡°Uh, yes. It¡¯s a very bad thing. You¡¯ll go to prison for a very long time.¡±


    ¡°If they catch me,¡± Joyride pointed out with a giggle. ¡°And it¡¯s a bad thing to rob a bank, but it¡¯s okay for a bank to rob other people?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± the woman blinked. ¡°The bank doesn¡¯t rob people.¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± the young thief retorted, ¡°with all due respect, I¡¯ve seen your loan interest rates and overdraft fees. You guys are one secret volcano base away from being a James Bond nemesis. You charge thirty-five dollars every time someone makes a tiny mistake and pays for something or has a bill go through before their deposit happens. So if someone doesn¡¯t have any money in their account and tries to buy something, even accidentally, you think the answer is to take more money, which they don¡¯t have, away from them? And then their money is still in the negative when another charge goes through, so you take another thirty-five dollars. You know how much money banks in the United States took from people in overdraft fees last year? Twenty-five billion dollars. And I¡¯m the supervillain?¡±


    While Carla made confused, affronted noises, her young escort stopped, pointing at the large vault door ahead of them. ¡°This is it, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the woman confirmed. ¡°But as I said, we can¡¯t open it. The door will only open when it¡¯s time, and it won¡¯t be time for another hour. You can¡¯t wait around that long. The police and Star-Touched--¡±


    ¡°Uh huh, but they¡¯re not even through the second layer yet.¡± With those mysterious words, Joyride reached down to grab something inside her cloak. She came out with what appeared to be a strange looking pistol with a small radar dish on the end rather than a full barrel, and a complicated keypad at the back. Humming to herself, the girl punched a few numbers in, then pointed the device toward the vault. When she pulled the trigger, a rapidly pulsing, circular series of rays poured into the large metal door before gradually narrowing into a smaller rectangle, about five and a half feet high and a couple feet across.


    For ten seconds, the girl held that rectangular beam on the metal, then stepped backward. As she did so, the piece of vault door that the beam had been hitting came with her. It was attached to the beam, which appeared to have wrapped itself around the thick metal. Humming, Joyride turned, moving the chunk of vault door out of the way before turning off her device, dropping the thing to the floor with a very loud, reverberating thud.


    ¡°Oops!¡± Sounding chastened and embarrassed briefly, the girl quickly amended herself. ¡°I mean, yeah! See, that¡¯s what you get¡­ door!¡± She looked toward her orb-drone, which appeared to be staring at her judgmentally. ¡°Oh shut up, let¡¯s get the money.¡±


    A minute later, the trio reemerged from the vault, now with the bank manager lugging a heavy sack of cash. On the way, Joyride tilted her head before remarking. ¡°Oh, now they¡¯re through the third layer.¡±


    ¡°What--what layers are you talking about?¡± Carla hesitantly asked.


    That question made the young villainess give an excited and cheerful, ¡°Oh! It¡¯s really cool! See, before I came in here, I put some traps down outside. You know, things that teleport people away, or slow them down, or make them spin in circles, or hangs them upside down, or traps them in this thick jelly stuff. There¡¯s four layers of it and they¡¯re on the fourth one, right by the doors. So I guess I better get going. Could you hurry up, please?¡±


    For a moment, the elderly woman just stared at her, before carefully pointing out, ¡°You¡¯re going awfully far out of your way not to hurt anyone, little girl. What if I say no and refuse to give it to you? What¡¯ll you do, stick me to the ceiling? Then you¡¯ll have to carry this by yourself.¡± She indicated the bag that she could barely get a few inches off the ground with both hands.


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry, I forgot.¡± With that, Joyride pointed to the bag. ¡°Tin Man, grab.¡±


    Immediately, the orb drone turned that way, a panel in its bottom opening up before a long metal arm extended, caught hold of the bag with a grapple-hand, and easily pulled it away from the woman. It hovered there with the bag, seemingly having no trouble keeping it off the ground.


    ¡°There,¡± Joyride noted with a satisfied nod. ¡°Now we can--¡±


    As she was in the midst of saying that, another security guard, one that hadn¡¯t been seen before, abruptly jumped out of a nearby doorway with his gun raised. ¡°Get down on the floor! Let me s-aaaaahh!¡± That last bit was because a different drone, this one about twice the size of the others and painted bright blue, suddenly appeared out of thin air and fired two beams. The first hit the man¡¯s gun, making it tear its way out of the man¡¯s hand to stick against the floor with a heavy thud. The second beam struck the man himself, and launched him toward the ceiling where he ¡®lay¡¯ flat against it, struggling and cursing, yet unable to so much as lift a finger away from it.


    ¡°Thanks, Dorothy!¡± Reaching out, Joyride patted the larger blue drone, which seemed to almost purr with appreciation before vanishing from sight once more. Then she focused on the woman nearby. ¡°You¡¯re right, I don¡¯t wanna hurt anybody. But the line between being super-annoyingly inconvenient and hurting someone is really wide. So c¡¯mon!¡± She started skipping ahead again.


    Suddenly paranoid about where the previously unknown blue drone was, the woman hurried after her while casting quick looks around. ¡°Annoyingly inconvenient? What is that supposed to mean?¡±


    Without slowing down, Joyride cheerfully answered by rattling off a number and an address. Carla¡¯s phone number and address. As she reacted to that, the girl continued. ¡°Tin Man, show her the house.¡±


    Immediately, the drone carrying the heavy money bag lowered itself down a bit, a slot in its top opening up before a small screen emerged. As Carla stared, she recognized a view through one of the security cameras in her own home. It was an image of the kitchen.


    ¡°Deploy pacification procedures level one at five percent, then cancel after four seconds.¡± the young girl recited.


    Instantly, the view in the camera changed. There was a flash of light, and suddenly the kitchen had about three inches of water in it. It only stayed there for those brief few seconds before vanishing once more.


    ¡°If you actually made me mad,¡± Joyride informed her, ¡°I¡¯d fill your entire house with it. And that¡¯s not just water. It¡¯s stink-juice. It smells really, really bad. You don¡¯t wanna lose all your electronics and ruin your furniture and have everything you own smell like skunk, right?


    ¡°See? I don¡¯t have to hurt you. I can be super-annoyingly inconvenient.¡±


    As she finished saying that, they reached the front lobby, where everyone was still waiting. Well, almost everyone. Two more people were stuck to the ceiling, having apparently decided to try testing their guards.


    ¡°Scarecrow, Lion, everything okay?¡± Joyride asked quickly, getting affirmative beeps. ¡°Good, now--oh! Here they come.¡± Quickly, she hurried to the center area where she had appeared. The bags of money collected by the tellers were sitting nearby. ¡°Aaand three¡­ two¡­ one¡­¡±


    Abruptly, the doors into the bank slammed open, as a SWAT team, accompanied by Flea, Silversmith, and Kriegspiel quickly flooded their way in, stopping short at the sight that confronted them. In that short pause, every weapon the SWAT members held, along with Flea¡¯s swords, were yanked away and flew over to land in a pile near Joyride.


    Spreading her arms high and wide above her head, the nine-year-old girl gave another loud, cackling maniacal laugh that was magnified to be heard throughout the room. In her very best evil villain voice, she declared, ¡°You¡¯re too late, heroes! The Fleet Felon escapes again! Err, for the first time! But there¡¯ll be other times!¡± She seemed to hesitate, deciding whether to amend herself again, before simply settling on that loud, cackling laugh that she had very clearly practiced for a long time.


    Silversmith was the first to react, his hand lashing out in order to create a much larger liquid-metal hand, big enough to catch the girl and hold her entire body in its grasp. But, just before it would have found its target, there was another bright flash, more fireworks exploded into the air along with a brief laser light show. In that instant, the girl, along with her drones and all the money they had collected, were gone. A moment later, everyone who had been pinned to the ceiling was gently lowered back to the floor, none the worse for wear.


    As the metaphorical dust settled, Flea looked to their leader. ¡°Smith?


    ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡±

 Trust 15-04

    Once we were dropped off at the library, Izzy and I actually did go inside together. Partly so the driver would see it, and partly so we could keep talking (quietly of course) about what we were going to do. We wanted to make sure both of us were on the same page about what we supposedly did here, just in case my parents happened to ask about it later for any reason.


    The library was big enough that it was easy to get lost in, easy to avoid people and hide in a corner to quietly work. And by this point, both of us were pretty sure that Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s people weren¡¯t looking for her anymore, if they ever were.


    Yeah, given what I now knew about that situation, I was pretty sure my parents had put the full kibosh on that whole forced-recruiting thing. Oscuro was definitely one of the gangs they had a lot of control over, and with Izzy actually living with us¡­ yeah, she was safe. Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s group wasn¡¯t going to violate my parents¡¯ wishes just to try to grab her again. Particularly not in the public library. Hell, I doubted anyone from their side could pick her out of a crowd by now. Or at least, they wouldn¡¯t be willing to admit they could if my parents ever asked. That was enough.


    So, with Izzy¡¯s promise that she would sit in a private area, do her studying, and let me know if anything happened, I eventually left her there. Heading out one of the side doors of the library, I kept my eyes open, looking around for anyone my parents might¡¯ve left to keep an eye on the place. But it looked pretty clear. They were probably about as confident as I was that Oscuro had backed off. If not more so. Honestly, I was pretty sure they¡¯d been keeping up appearances for Izzy¡¯s sake, given how odd it would have looked if they weren¡¯t being super-careful with her.


    But things were clear now. So, I found an out-of-the-way roof to change into my costume, stowed my regular clothes in a bag out of sight, and took a running leap off the roof to head for Wren¡¯s. With any luck, we¡¯d be able to come up with something to help Paige.


    Actually, that was a good point. My parents hadn¡¯t brought up anything about Paige. They hadn¡¯t said a word about any possible disappearance, and I hadn¡¯t seen word online. No one on social media was going on about it, or anything about her pare¨Cher adopted parents. It was like nothing happened. Nothing involving Paige anyway. There was some about the warehouse that exploded, but not even much of that. Just that the authorities were looking into it and that there appeared to have been no one alive in the warehouse when it went up, which was¡­ weird, given all the bodies Paige and I had left behind.


    And boy was that ever a disconcerting sentence to think.


    On the way to Wren¡¯s, I thought about what had happened the night before. The Izzy part, specifically. God, she knew everything. I¡¯d told her all of it. Well, pretty much. The major points. It would¡¯ve taken a lot longer than we¡¯d had for me to tell her absolutely everything that had happened since the night I¡¯d stowed away in the back of that car. But the secrets, all the stuff I¡¯d been keeping locked up tight inside my own brain for so long, she knew it. She knew who I was, what I was doing, what my parents were, all of it. She knew the truth.


    I felt¡­ good. Okay, not fantastic. There was still so much I had to worry about. Still so many problems that I had no idea how to solve. Particularly Paige, right now. I didn¡¯t know how we were going to fix her, who we could even talk to who might be able to fix what was wrong with her, let alone anyone we¡¯d actually trust with that kind of access and secret.


    So yeah, I still had plenty of issues weighing on my brain. But the fact that I had finally actually talked about all of this stuff with someone helped. Seriously, it helped so much. Saying the words out loud, getting them out in the open, talking through how it all made me feel with Izzy? I felt better than I had in a long time, even with the whole Paige situation. It felt like I wasn¡¯t alone anymore, like I had someone I could trust and¡­ and rely on, even just a little bit. It was seriously amazing how much that helped. I really had slept better last night, despite everything going on with Paige and that entire mess, than I had in a very long time.


    Shaken out of those kind of musings as the phone buzzed in my pocket, I waited until I found a spot on another roof before taking it out. Glancing around to make sure I was clear and not about to be jumped or anything, I checked the ID. It was That-A-Way.


    ¡°Hey, Way,¡± I answered immediately, stowing the phone and talking through the bluetooth as I took off running across the roof once more. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    There was a brief pause before the other girl answered. ¡°You tell me.¡± She sounded tired, like she hadn¡¯t gotten much sleep. ¡°What happened? With Paige, I mean. Did you find out¨Cdid your Tech friend get anywhere with her? With¨Cdo we have any ideas?¡±


    Wincing at the sound of how stressed That-A-Way was, I quickly replied, ¡°She can¡¯t get through the body. I mean, we don¡¯t even know if she could do anything with the orb part, but even if she could, she¡¯s terrified of trying to even get to it. We need to find someone who can help with that, and I don¡¯t even know where to start.¡± With a sigh, I added, ¡°She said she could probably make a scanner or something that can find the orb. After that, we just need to get to it without¡­ you know, doing too much damage. To it or to the body. I have no idea how we¡¯re gonna do that, or even where to start with finding someone capable of it, let alone trustworthy.¡±


    Again, there was a moment of silence. Well, almost silence. I could hear the girl breathing, clearly lost in thought. Finally, she sighed audibly. ¡°I¡¯ll¨CI won¡¯t ask around. I¡¯ll quietly poke and see if anything comes up. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be careful. I¡¯m not gonna¡­¡± She trailed off before simply finishing with a quiet, ¡°I¡¯m not gonna fuck up, promise. Just start with figuring out where the orb is and if she can get anything else. Images of it, how it¡¯s doing, how much it¡¯s connected to her, anything.¡±


    I nodded, then realized belatedly how useless that was. Flushing a bit under my helmet and mask, I spoke up quickly. ¡°Right, yeah. Don¡¯t draw any attention to the¨Chey wait a minute. Do you know why they¡¯re saying there weren¡¯t any bodies found at that place? I mean, we know they weren¡¯t real people, but there were an awful lot of the things left there, and I didn¡¯t see anything about that. They keep saying the place was empty except for equipment. Which¡­ technically, but.¡±


    That time, I was pretty sure I heard That-A-Way mumble a curse before she replied in a dark voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I know I saw bodies there, but when I got back, they said there weren¡¯t any. When I asked, they said it was the fire and the smoke playing tricks on me, that they went through the whole place and found nothing like that. No bodies, no remains, nothing.¡±


    Landing on the ledge attached to a billboard, I frowned. ¡°So they knew. I mean, someone important figured out those weren¡¯t normal bodies, and covered it up. But that would take a lot. They had to move any remains, make sure no one who wasn¡¯t involved didn¡¯t see it or shut them up, make sure no one got any pictures and the media didn¡¯t find out¡­¡± My parents. That whole thing had to be my parents. The Ministry. Somehow, they¡¯d pulled that off. The fact that they could do something like that at the drop of a hat just¡­ yeah. Suddenly, I didn¡¯t feel quite as rested as I had before answering the phone. And I also had a slightly better understanding of why That-A-Way sounded the way she did. God, the realization that they had that kind of power, knowing the amount she did about the Ministry? No wonder she was stressed.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± came her quiet response, almost as though she could read my mind, ¡°Someone important knew, and managed all that. So I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll be interested in our little friend if they ever find out about her. You sure you trust the place you¡¯ve got her now?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± I replied immediately, before amending, ¡°I mean, it¡¯s the best place we¡¯ve got. And I trust Trevithick. She¡¯s not going to tell anybody. But do you have any idea if anyone has any way of linking Paige to that warehouse? No one¡¯s said anything about her disappearing yet. Or her ¡®parents.¡¯ At least, it¡¯s not online. And I¡¯m pretty sure they kept their names off any ownership papers, so¨C¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ve connected her to it, or realized that she¡¯s missing,¡± Way put in. ¡°I went by her place, since we were supposed to¨C¡± She coughed. ¡°Since my patrol went that way. But I didn¡¯t see anything. It was all locked up. The gates were closed, no guards at the entrance, no response to the intercom.¡±


    ¡°Did you check the place out any closer?¡± I hesitantly asked, curious as to how far the other girl had gone.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have any legal reason to,¡± she pointedly informed me. ¡°There was no sign of anything wrong other than the lack of guards, no one called for help, I didn¡¯t have a warrant or any sign of immediate criminal activity or danger.¡±


    She held that for a few silent seconds before exhaling in a long sigh. ¡°I took a quick peek. The place is shut down. There¡¯s no one there. No bodies, no guards, no servants, no Banners family, nothing. It¡¯s like everyone just got up and left last night after the¨Cafter everything that happened. They¡¯re gone.¡±


    There was something about what she had been saying that tickled my brain, but I couldn¡¯t work out what it was. Instead of dwelling too much, I replied, ¡°Could be the Ministry, or could be Paige¡¯s father¡¯s people, if he still has any. Could be a lot of things.¡± Pausing briefly, I added, ¡°Thanks for checking it out anyway, even if it wasn¡¯t exactly by the book.¡±


    After a moment of silence, Way responded with, ¡°Yeah, well, it didn¡¯t really accomplish much, did it? We still don¡¯t know anything about how or why they disappeared. And we still don¡¯t know what to do about Paige. I don¡¯t have some special doctor I can pull out who could do surgery to get to the orb, and I definitely don¡¯t have any I¡¯d trust completely with that. Not to mention, just getting to the orb is the easy part. Can Trevithick fix what happened to it? I mean, I don¡¯t know a lot about Tech-Touched stuff, but I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s hard for someone who didn¡¯t make something to beat out the person who actually made it. Paige¡¯s dad designed that thing. It¡¯s his power. So how do we find someone who can change what he did?¡±


    My mouth opened, then I paused, frowning thoughtfully as I took another couple jumps, getting close to the shop. ¡°Maybe we don¡¯t need a Tech-Touched. I mean, not for the reprogramming part. If Trevithick can just keep the orb running while¡­¡±


    ¡°While what?¡± Way put in.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I quickly apologized. ¡°I just¨CI need to think about it. I¡¯ve got a few thoughts, I just need time to figure out if they¡¯ll work or not. I¡¯ll let you know what¡¯s going on as soon as I figure it out, promise.¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Way started before seeming to catch herself. She sighed then, insisting, ¡°Yeah, let me know. I¡¯ll look around, like I said. See if anyone pops out who could pull something like this off and then be quiet about it.¡± She sounded understandably doubtful about that possibility. ¡°And be careful. I don¡¯t think they know about Paige right now, but if they figure it out¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯d be bad.¡± Grimacing, I stopped at the edge of the last roof, across from Wren¡¯s place. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful, believe me. You too. Don¡¯t get caught. Don¡¯t¨C¡±


    Way interrupted. ¡°Don¡¯t give anything away, I won¡¯t. But listen, I went for this run earlier and saw¨CI mean, do you know anything about this guy¡­¡± She trailed off then.


    ¡°This guy?¡± I echoed. ¡°What¨C¡±


    Once again, she cut me off. ¡°Nothing, never mind. I¡¯ll figure it out myself. Just gotta look into someone, but I can do that. You¡¯ve got enough to deal with. Talk to you later, Paintball.¡±


    She disconnected, and I hesitated, wondering if there was anything better I could¡¯ve said. But no. I was doing the best I could. We all were. That-A-Way was going through a lot. Seriously, I¡¯d just told her that the girl I¡¯d said could have information we needed about the Ministry was actually a¨Clike a cyborg sort of. After that, and the whole warehouse thing, and figuring out that the Ministry could cover something like that up with no advance warning? No wonder she was obviously stressed.


    Shaking that off, I made my way down to the entrance into the shop, glanced around to make sure it was clear, then went inside. Or rather, tried to. The door was locked.


    ¡°Um.¡± Blinking, I raised my hand to knock, only for the door to open seemingly on its own. For a second, a rush of fear and paranoid thoughts filled my head. What was going on? Slowly, I took a step inside, scanning the room intently. The place was mostly dark, the lights dimmed to the lowest setting. It didn¡¯t look like anyone was in the actual store part. A thick knot of worry formed in my throat. If something was wrong, if something bad had happened because I¨C


    ¡°Sorry!¡± That was Wren, popping out of the elevator on the far side of the room and zooming over to me, using her flightpack thing to glide a few feet off the floor. ¡°Security, we¡¯re not letting anyone in right now. I mean, except you. And Pack. And¨CI mean no customers. Come on!¡± She grabbed my hand, pulling me the rest of the way inside just before the door shut once more behind us. I heard several clicks as various locks engaged.


    ¡°Wren, is everything okay?¡± I asked, after giving a quick glance around. Things seemed just the way I¡¯d left them aside from the lights being dimmed.


    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah, it¡¯s fine!¡± Wren shrugged, hovering there at eye level with me thanks to the dragonfly-like wings from that harness she wore. ¡°Uncle Fred and me just thought having customers right now might be a bad idea, cuz I¡¯ve gotta focus. And cuz bad guys might sneak in. So we¡¯re closed for now.¡± Belatedly, she amended, ¡°I mean, we never really opened after the thing with bad guys coming in before, but we still had a few people come in. Now it¡¯s all locked.¡±


    Her words made me wince. ¡°Sorry. You¡¯re just trying to get the shop on its feet again and I make you close the whole place down.¡±


    Wren¡¯s eyes rolled. ¡°You didn¡¯t make us do anything, Paintball. You asked for help. That¡¯s the right thing to do.¡± Her hand poked me in the middle of the visor on my helmet before she turned in the air. ¡°Besides, I like figuring things out, and this is a big thing to figure out! Come on!¡±


    She flew ahead of me, while I followed at a trot. At least Wren seemed to be less overwhelmed than she had last night. Apparently the intervening hours had taken her from terrified of the very concept of being responsible for fixing Paige, to excited about solving the problem.


    Making it upstairs to where the girl¡¯s real workshop was, I looked around. There. Paige was lying on a couch. It looked like she was sleeping, even though I knew better.


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t changed at all.¡± That was Fred, speaking up as he approached, pushing a wheeled cart laden with tools. ¡°No movement, no sound, nothing. She just lays there. Body¡¯s still working. She¡¯s got a heartbeat, pulse, she¡¯s breathing, all that. But there¡¯s no active response. I can¡¯t even tell if she can hear what we¡¯re saying or not.¡±


    Swallowing, I stepped that way, putting a hand on Paige¡¯s face for a moment. God, my feelings about this whole thing were so confusing. I was angry, sad, confused, worried¡­ fuck. It was too much.


    Finally, I shoved all that down and turned back to the other two, yet again glad that they couldn¡¯t see my expression. ¡°Any ideas? You seem¡­ better about it, Wren.¡±


    ¡°I still can¡¯t do anything about the body,¡± she insisted firmly. ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor and I¡¯ll break it. Errr, kill it¨Cher. I don¡¯t¨CI can¡¯t¨C¡± A hint of that previous worry crept into her voice before she shook it off and pressed on. ¡°But I¡¯m making that scanner I told you about, the one that can find the orb so we know where it is, exactly. If we can find it, I think I can make something to umm¡­ stabilize it? I can¡¯t fix it, that¡¯s programming stuff. But I can make sure it doesn¡¯t go boom or anything else that creep might¡¯ve put in it.¡±


    Smiling a bit behind the helmet, I nodded. ¡°Thanks, Wren. For everything. I just¨CI guess we need two things. Two people. Someone who can open up the body to get to that orb once you find it, and someone who can do the programming part.¡±


    I had one idea about the latter. Eits. His Mites could probably get in there and help with the virus or whatever it was that Paige¡¯s father had installed. But¡­ but could I trust him that far? Could I risk involving him like that? Pack had already said he was very loyal to La Casa.


    And more importantly, even if I did stretch the trust far enough to involve Eits, who the hell could we trust to do the biological part?

 Trust 15-05

    Unfortunately, by the time I eventually left Wren¡¯s place awhile later, I still didn¡¯t have any more concrete plans. Involving Eits seemed to be the only real chance we had, but I was reluctant to bring him in. He had every reason to be loyal to La Casa after everything they¡¯d done for him. But did that make him loyal to the Ministry if he found out about it? And did he need to find out about it? And was it fair to not let him find out if he was going to do that level of favor? And could he be trusted with knowing about what Paige was even if he didn¡¯t know about the Ministry? He already knew I was a girl and hadn¡¯t given that away, but¡­ but¡­ this was more.


    I trusted him not to tell people about me being a girl. But this? This would be trusting him with Paige¡¯s secrets, Paige¡¯s life. If he even just mentioned to Blackjack that he knew a cyborg, or thought that saying something about it was necessary to protect his own people¡­ could I trust him that far? Was it fair to involve him when I wouldn¡¯t, or couldn¡¯t, tell him the whole story?


    And yet, things didn¡¯t get any easier if I put the idea of Eits aside. Because who else could I bring in? Who could I talk to who might be able to help? Then, even if we got to the point where there was someone, we ran into the same damn problem. Worse even. If there was some stranger we could bring in to help Paige, then they would know her secret just as much as Eits would. Putting aside the (incredibly important and impossible to actually put aside) questions about whether Eits could be trusted with that kind of secret, there was no reason to believe some stranger could either. Eits had already proven he¡¯d keep my secret, but, but this was¡­


    Either way, I was going to have to trust someone with incredibly dangerous information. The only question was who, and how much. Bringing in someone from the outside would involve tracking down a person good enough with computers and technology to help Wren fix the orb and someone good enough at the medical stuff to open Paige up in order to get at it.


    Fuck. It was so much. I had no idea how I was going to make a decision like this. Every option just seemed dangerous and bad. Yet, I couldn¡¯t just not make one. Paige was counting on me. Terrifying as the concept of making the wrong decision might¡¯ve been, making no decision was still a decision. And it was the wrong one. Leaving Paige trapped in her mind, locked down like that, wasn¡¯t going to solve anything. For all I knew, it would make things worse, the longer she was like that. I was pretty sure she was safe for the time being, but¡­ but not positive. I wasn¡¯t positive about anything, it seemed like. I just desperately wanted to make the right decision.


    At least I had one thing now that I hadn¡¯t had before: someone to talk to about it. Yeah, that was a fucking miracle. Or it felt like one. After leaving Wren¡¯s, I went back to the library, changed clothes, and met Izzy. The two of us went into a private study room where we wouldn¡¯t be overheard, and I explained everything that had happened at the shop. Which wasn¡¯t much, given I hadn¡¯t come to any decisions. But it at least gave me the chance to voice my thoughts and worries aloud while the younger girl sat there and quietly listened. That was pretty huge.


    I also mentioned the call from her teammate, telling her about how That-A-Way had said the bodies that were in that building were gone and everyone was acting like they were never there.


    ¡°Your parents covered it up,¡± Izzy announced in a quiet, somewhat stunned voice once I got through that part. It sounded like she was still processing the fact that they could manage something like that on such short notice. Which was fair, considering I was still processing it. ¡°They¡¯ve got that kind of influence? They could just make a bunch of bodies disappear from a crime scene and have everyone believe it never happened?¡± Yeah, she was definitely reeling.


    ¡°I¡¯m betting it¡¯s not just their level of influence,¡± I pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s not just a matter of them owning everyone who was there, I mean. There¡¯s gotta be people who weren¡¯t on their payroll. My bet is they used Mr. Jackson to help erase a few memories. You know, just adjusted things a bit to hide the truth. But¡­ yeah, yeah, they¡¯ve got that kind of influence. As far as I know, they either own or have a lot of power and say over practically every law enforcement, Star-Touched, and Fell-Touched group in the city. I¡¯m gonna guess that they own important people everywhere. The government, hospitals, everything. Which seems like a lot of people for a secret organization.¡±


    ¡°Most of them probably don¡¯t know who they actually work for, or how big it is,¡± Izzy pointed out. ¡°They just know some guy comes with money in one hand and a picture of their family in the other, and tells them to do something. Or blackmail, or anything. The point is, they don¡¯t know they¡¯re working for some city-wide criminal conspiracy group. They just know that single guy.¡±


    Exhaling long and low, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, that makes sense. See? You¡¯re already helping me figure all this out.¡± Offering the girl a small smile, I shrugged. ¡°Sorry. Yeah. I don¡¯t know what to do. Paige is¨Cis counting on me. But if I bring the wrong person in, if I trust Eits or anyone and they betray us? It¡¯s just too much to think about. But I know I have to. I have to figure it out.¡±


    Izzy, in turn, scrunched her face up a bit thoughtfully. ¡°Okay, well, think about the worst case scenario depending on how much you say. If they know she¡¯s Paige Banners and her father is on Breakwater and she¡¯s one of these cyborgs and your family are the Ministry¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she winked at me. ¡°Maybe a little too much info?¡±


    I blanched. ¡°Yeah, just maybe. They don¡¯t need to know anything about my family. Or me. There¡¯s no reason for them to know who I am or what my family does. So¨C¡± Abruptly, I blinked at her. ¡°You were saying that out loud just so I¡¯d stop freaking out about the worst possibility.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s response was a grin, before she tapped the table. ¡°Right, so put the Ministry thing aside. If they know about Paige, everything she is, and what and who her dad is, how bad is it?¡±


    My mouth opened, then I hesitated and thought about it for a moment. ¡°In that case, they¡¯d know that Paige was basically artificial, a human mind put in a robot brain which was put in a¡­ a clone body, basically.¡± Even as I said that out loud, my face twisted a little. ¡°This is weird.¡±


    ¡°Really weird,¡± Izzy agreed, her own face having twisted to match mine. Then she shook that off, adding, ¡°And they¡¯d know about her dad being on Breakwater. But not really his plans or anything. They¡¯d just know that some crazy guy built his daughter a new body, put her brain in it, and then got sent to supervillain prison. That¡¯s the most they know. What can they do with it?¡±


    ¡°Blackmail Paige?¡± I offered, before amending, ¡°I mean, if they could figure out who to take that kind of info to who would actually listen.¡±


    ¡°Paige¡¯s family is rich and powerful,¡± Izzy pointed out. ¡°They¡¯ve had crazy stories written about them in sleazy magazines and online all the time. Do you have any idea how many people think your family are all secretly lizard aliens?¡±


    I coughed. ¡°A few, I guess.¡± Shrugging then, I added, ¡°So the general public might not¨Cprobably wouldn¡¯t believe it. I mean, it is a pretty absurd story. But the Ministry might, especially if they remember the bio-tech guy that got put away. With the timing and everything, they could put that together. Then they¡¯d know Paige was related to the guy who was a threat to them. And they¡¯d go after him. I mean, I guess that depends on how much they know about¡­¡± I trailed off.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°How much they know about what?¡± Izzy prompted after a moment.


    Shaking myself, I continued. ¡°How much they know about the situation. I don¡¯t actually know how much my family knows about Paige¡¯s dad. She said she called my old bodyguard, Robert Parson, and that he made some calls to get the guy arrested. But I don¡¯t know if he involved my family at all. Or, if he did, how much they actually know about it. For all I know, they don¡¯t know him from Adam.¡±


    ¡°You need to talk to Robert Parson,¡± Izzy noted quietly.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, grimacing again as a sigh escaped me. ¡°Just one minor problem with that plan.


    ¡°I have no fucking clue where to start with that.¡±


    *********


    We didn¡¯t magically come up with a perfect solution while we were at the library, but talking it out did help me feel a little more focused. I was going to have to look into what kind of potential options we had. Maybe I would need to take the plunge to trust Eits enough to do his thing with Paige¡¯s orb. Or maybe I¡¯d have to find a way to pay someone else while keeping Paige¡¯s identity as secret as possible. But either way, I couldn¡¯t do either of those things until we had a plan for actually getting to the orb. And that required some kind of medical person who could open her up. Which¡­ yeah, I had no fucking idea how we could find and trust someone like that.


    The only idea I had that wouldn¡¯t involve getting someone else was to use my pink paint and somehow¡­ pull Paige¡¯s body open enough to get at the orb, then keep applying the paint as long as whoever our tech person happened to be was doing their job. I wasn¡¯t sure if that would work, because applying the pink to a physical body had never allowed me to actually tear their body open before, it just let me stretch a body part out, like silly putty.


    And, to be perfectly honest, the very thought of trying something like that made me really queasy. I was hoping there was another way, before I had to test it. Because urgh.


    Either way, I didn¡¯t have a plan yet. Which made me feel pretty useless as far as Paige went, but my only hope was that she was basically just sleeping. That was okay, right? She was essentially in a coma, so it didn¡¯t matter how long it took me to find a solution to this. And it was better for me to make the right plan, one that would actually help her without destroying her life, than it would be to jump on the first thought that popped into my head.


    She was safe. She was with Wren, she was basically sleeping, and no one else could find her. At least, as long as I was careful. Which was the whole point of taking my time figuring this out.


    Izzy and I spent most of Sunday dealing with that, in between walking to the mall to get some food. Not just to get food, of course. We also walked past the entrance to the secret Ministry base so she could see what I was talking about. There was a guy standing nearby wearing a mall security uniform, looking like he was just watching for shoplifters. But we both knew the truth. He was definitely keeping an eye on that door.


    That was how our Sunday went, aside from family dinner, which went about as well as it could. Izzy did her best to keep her reactions as normal as possible, and any bit of nervousness or uncertainty was easily dismissed as just the way she¡¯d been with us the whole time. Afterward, we watched a movie in the screening room with Simon half-watching while doing work on his phone. Eventually he left and the two of us talked a bit more.


    That was what we spent the entire day doing: just talking. We talked through everything. Not just the whole situation with my family, but Izzy¡¯s too. She talked about missing her mom, despite everything the woman had done. She mentioned wanting to find out if her mother ever made it out of the city, or if my family had done something to her. I could hear the fear in her voice. Despite the way her mother had betrayed her, Izzy still cared about her. I promised the girl we would find out what happened, somehow. It was another problem to deal with later.


    Eventually, that day was over. Izzy and I slept in the same bed again, neither of us wanting to be alone in that moment. And it was, again, one of the best night¡¯s sleep I¡¯d had any time recently. I didn¡¯t even think about going out as Paintball that night. I just¨CI couldn¡¯t do it. I needed the break.


    The sleep was so good that I actually woke up before the alarm would¡¯ve gone off for school. Only like two minutes before, but still. I felt rested and awake, ready to go. Which was only added to once I had a shower and Izzy and I both wolfed down a truly amazing amount of breakfast. Between the two of us, we were a couple bottomless pits.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re ready for this, Izzy?¡± That was my mother, who was simply drinking a cup of coffee while watching the two of us devour our expansive breakfast with a look of mixed amusement and fascination. ¡°If you¡¯d like to wait another week or so¡­¡±


    Izzy¡¯s head shook. ¡°No, thank you, Mrs. Evans. I¡¯m ready. It¡¯s okay.¡±


    What she was ¡®ready¡¯ for, in this case, was going back to school. Or rather, back to a school. She wasn¡¯t going back to her old one. Instead, my parents were going to send her to the same elite private middle school that I had gone to. It was part of a compromise. They didn¡¯t think her old public school was safe enough, but she really wanted to get back to some kind of normal. Which meant being in school and around other people her age. Hence this. She¡¯d go to my old school. The arrangements had been made the night before, and the people at the school were expecting her.


    With a soft smile, Mom gave her a short nod. ¡°As you wish. You can leave with Cassidy, and Jefferson will drop you off after leaving her at the other school. But please, remember you can always call him to pick you up if you need to, if it¡¯s too much.¡±


    Despite her words, I had a feeling that Mom was happy Izzy was taking this step. In her mind, it probably meant the girl was settling in. She was seeing this whole situation as less temporary. Going to school was something normal. It meant she was more comfortable with us. At least, as far as my parents were concerned.


    Izzy mumbled something resembling agreement with my mother¡¯s advice, before the two of us finished our breakfasts and headed out. As promised, Jefferson was waiting right out front for us. Mom had made sure to let the man know the new route the night before so he wasn¡¯t surprised to see Izzy with me. Which was a good thing, considering how the man generally reacted when it came to surprises.


    So, the two of us sat in the back of the car, as I gave the other girl some advice about teachers I remembered, how to avoid annoying the draconian assistant headmistress who roamed the halls looking for people to throw into detention, and how to get to the main office.


    Izzy was nervous. I could tell that much, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Nervous and uncomfortable, in her brand new school uniform that had arrived overnight and been waiting for her this morning. It was basically identical to my own, consisting of the same black pants, black blazer, blue shirt, and white tie. Which made sense, considering this was basically one of the main feeder schools for Cadillac Preparatory.


    Either way, it was obvious that Izzy felt ridiculous and uncomfortable in her uniform, as much as I tried to make her feel better. But it was okay. What she really wanted was the chance to get out of the house and be around other people. And this was that chance.


    Eventually, we made it to my school. Quickly, before Jefferson could be annoyed by the delay, I made sure Izzy had my phone number so she could let me know if she had any issues. Then I slipped out and started to head inside.


    I only made it a few steps before Mrs. Donnelley, one of the women from the school¡¯s main office, stepped up. She was a tall lady, just over six feet, in her late fifties with dark brown (likely dyed) hair who always wore a really neat red suit. I liked Mrs. Donnelley.


    ¡°Cassidy Evans, just the girl I was looking for!¡± the woman boomed with a broad smile.


    ¡°You found me,¡± I replied with a shrug. ¡°Which is a really huge bit of luck considering this is where I¡¯m dropped off every morning.¡±


    Tutting her finger at me while unable to contain her laugh, Mrs. Donnelley shook her head. ¡°Now now, just be quiet then. Time for you to give something back to the school by showing our brand new student around. Think you can do that?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Uhh, sure, I¡¯ve got time to spare. Who¨C¡±


    In answer, the woman gestured for someone behind her to come into view. ¡°Come on then, introduce yourself, sweetie.¡±


    With that, a black girl with short, spiky hair that was dark except for the very bright white tips stepped into view. ¡°Hey,¡± she mumbled. ¡°Nice to meet you, I guess.


    ¡°I¡¯m Dani Kalvers.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 6 - Amber

    Shortly after dawn, the sound of shoes slapping against concrete filled the early morning air, as a dark-haired, slim girl jogged up the hill wearing running clothes and a set of earbuds. Through those earbuds, Amber O¡¯Connell listened to the near-deafeningly loud, pounding music that was doing its level best to help her not think about all the things she kept irritatingly thinking about.


    The whole point of this run was to help the girl clear her head, help her avoid thoughts of¡­ of the horrible truth while she was supposed to be pretending to be a normal, everyday person. It was supposed to help her stop dwelling on all that bullshit.


    But there was too much. Her thoughts were too loud even for the music to drown out, no matter how high she pumped the volume. As she ran along the sidewalk, with each foot that came down against the cement, Amber¡¯s mind was filled with thoughts. Filled with the actual truth.


    Silversmith was a bad guy. He worked for this¡­ this Ministry. Everything Amber and the rest of the Minority¨Ceverything all the Star-Touched in Detroit did, it was only because the Ministry allowed it. This crime syndicate ran everything. They decided what the supposed heroes were allowed to do, how much they were allowed to stop. No matter what Amber or any of the other ¡®good guys¡¯ did, the Ministry won in the long run, because they controlled things behind the scenes. They took money from villains just to be allowed to operate in the city, they controlled the courts, the police, they had people inside the Touched teams to sabotage or simply spy.


    There could have been someone on Amber¡¯s team who was really reporting to the Ministry. Her supposed friends, her teammates, one of them might be¨Cprobably was a traitor. Everything they had been through together, everything they had accomplished or fought against as a team, and one of the people she was supposed to be able to trust with her life was a fucking spy, damn it!


    But who? Which of her supposed friends was actually reporting to the bad guys? It could¡¯ve been any of them, as much as Amber wanted to scream out loud that it wasn¡¯t. Syndicate? He had four bodies, he could easily have one of them spy where he shouldn¡¯t without being noticed. Wobble and Whamline? It could¡¯ve been either of them too. They tended to hang out together the way she did with Jae, so did that mean they would¡¯ve been in on things together if one of them was?


    Jae. No, it couldn¡¯t be her. Or Izzy. Amber knew them both too well. She hung out with Jae all the time, they were basically best friends by this point. And Izzy was a kid. And¨C


    But that was the point, wasn¡¯t it? The best spies were the ones you¡¯d never expect. And this Ministry could have lied to either of them, Amber realized. They could¡¯ve convinced Jae or Izzy that they were doing the right thing by reporting what they knew, like it was some kind of secret Star-Touched thing that no one was supposed to know about. And it wasn¡¯t like Amber could just start asking them about it without giving the whole thing away if they were in on it at any level.


    So she couldn¡¯t ask them. Not without something more than she had. She couldn¡¯t ask them and she couldn¡¯t trust them. God damn it! She couldn¡¯t even trust her best friend or the kid she¡¯d grown really fond of ever since Izzy was put on their team. She couldn¡¯t¨Cdidn¡¯t¡­ fuck.


    Not knowing who you could trust was a really fucking shitty position to be in. Not knowing if you could even believe anything your best friend or the people you relied on to have your back in a life-and-death fight said? It made Amber want to scream out loud, made her want to start hitting things and not stop until she¡¯d broken all the bones in her hand. It made her want to grab every single one of her teammates and shake them, scream in their faces, demand answers.


    It made her want to do drastic things. Things she couldn¡¯t do without giving everything away. It would betray Paintball, the poor guy. He¡¯d trusted her with this and he was holding it together even after knowing the truth for longer.


    That poor kid. He had to be like Izzy¡¯s age, maybe a little older. And he¡¯d been stuck knowing about this all by himself. No wonder he¡¯d refused to join the Minority. Fuck. All that time he¡¯d spent knowing that even Amber could¡¯ve been a spy for the Ministry? How was he dealing with it so well? Because she already felt like she was going to explode. And that was before the whole insane Paige thing.


    Paige. On top of everything else, suddenly Paige Banners was some kind of artificial lifeform. Seriously? There wasn¡¯t enough shit to deal with, not enough insanity, now suddenly someone Amber knew in her real, civilian life was a biological android or something. And her real father was a supervillain living on Breakwater? She¡¯d just¨Cthat was just such a giant¨C


    Urgh. She¡¯d known Paige for years. Years. And she¡¯d never had any idea that the girl was anything more than what she seemed. Well, okay, her weird hatred of Cassidy Evans had been something. But honestly Amber had just written that off as something that started between Paige¡¯s parents and Cassidy¡¯s as the second-richest and richest people in the state. Like Glomgold and Scrooge McDuck. She¡¯d just figured that eventually Paige would grow out of it.


    But now? Now it turned out that Paige was a biological robot or whatever. So why had she been drawing attention to herself by hating Cassidy so openly? Was it a flaw, or a¡­ was there a reason for it? What was the point of being such a bitch specifically to Cassidy and no one else? Because that was just weird. It had been weird before, but now it was really weird.


    Fuck, she had no idea. Which was even more frustrating the more she thought about it and came up with no actual answers. Lots of questions, but no answers. It was like there was one huge, crucial key to this whole thing that she was missing, a central piece of the puzzle. And without that central piece, none of it would fit together no matter how hard she shoved at them.


    Yeah, she really needed to scream and hit something. Unfortunately, there was no one who deserved it in front of her. And even if there was, Amber was pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t actually help anything. It might make her feel better for about two seconds to walk up to Silversmith and try slugging him, but in the long run it would make everything a hell of a lot worse.


    She wasn¡¯t that stupid. She would keep it under control, would stop herself from pulling some insane move that would accomplish nothing except for getting herself, Paintball, and Pack in some deep shit that would be impossible to get out of. She had to bottle up those impulses.


    But the real shit, the real thing that was pissing her off so much, the thing that made her want to grab a baseball bat and just start screaming at the top of her lungs as she used it to hit Silversmith over and over again had nothing to do with the Paige situation. It was something a lot simpler and a hell of a lot more personal.


    Did they know where the guy who killed her father was? The piece of shit who stole that car and hit her dad before magically disappearing with absolutely no trace. Did he really just get lucky and leave no evidence of who he was? Did no traffic cameras pick up his face, no witnesses see anything about him? Was this random fucking cocksucker really that lucky?


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    Or did he have help? Did he pay money to this Ministry to make his problem go away? Did Silversmith help him just to make sure Amber was motivated to join the Minority? Was her entire recruitment, after getting her powers, fueled by making sure she never found the man who had killed her dad? Was it possible? Of course it was. She had powers. The moment they knew what she could do, Silversmith or any of the other Ministry fucks could¡¯ve looked into her history, found out what happened, and made sure she never found the asshole no matter how hard she looked. Or he could¡¯ve gone to them first. Either way, there was a chance the Ministry was covering up who this guy was, that she could have found him by now if it wasn¡¯t for them. And that chance, that possibility, was more than she could stomach. It was a possibility that drove her to try to drown out those thoughts with the pounding music, with running until she couldn¡¯t breathe, until she wanted to pass out.


    If that was true, if the Ministry had helped the guy who killed her father escape or hide¡­ what would she do? What could she do? Bring them to justice? They were the justice. From what Paintball had said, they controlled everything important in the city, if not the entire state. She would have to have absolute proof, a dump truck full of evidence. And she¡¯d have to take it right to¨Cto someone above even the state level. FBI? One of the other Conservator teams in another state that wasn¡¯t compromised? Or a different Star-Touched group. Maybe a lot all at once.


    Regardless, none of that mattered right now. To do any of it, they needed a lot more information. And evidence, of course. But they needed information to begin with. They needed to know who they could trust, first of all. Finding out which people were working for the Ministry, so they knew who they could safely bring into things, that was the overwhelmingly first priority.


    And that meant getting into that base under the mall. That was the only actual lead they had at this point, aside from whatever Paige might know if they could wake her up. Because she had to know something important, right? Paintball had said that Paige knew a lot about the Ministry. So if they could wake her up, if they could¡­ could fix her or whatever, they might know more.


    And what the hell was with all the P names? Pack, Paintball, Paige?


    Okay, Amber might have been a little tired by that point, possibly. Doubling over by a tree at the top of the hill, she panted, taking the bottle of water off its slot on her hip before taking a long swig. Fuck, it was too much. The problems, the implications, all of it kept rebounding through her head until she couldn¡¯t even think straight. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, right there in the middle of the sidewalk.


    That¡­ might attract some attention. She was pretty sure Silversmith and the rest of the Ministry would notice if she just started screaming incoherently like that. And she probably couldn¡¯t do much to expose or stop them if they managed to commit her to the nuthouse or whatever.


    So, Amber kept it under control. Gulping water and breathing in and out until she felt herself calm down a little bit, she focused first on the music, allowing that pulsing, pounding rhythm to drown out everything else just for a few seconds.


    Then she shifted her mind, gradually, back to the thoughts that might actually help. The mall and Paige. Those were the two options they had right now. Finding a way to infiltrate the secret Ministry base could get them answers. She doubted there was anything as handy as a simple list of everyone who worked for them, but there had to be something useful in there, right?


    But that was the problem. How did they get in there without exposing her powers? Because Amber could teleport into the place easily enough. But they¡¯d have cameras, they¡¯d see her, even if she was in disguise. And the second she used teleportation to get in and any other power to get out, they¡¯d know who she was.


    Unless she didn¡¯t use any other power. What if she pretended to only have teleportation? It wasn¡¯t like her ¡®porting had any specific tells other than only moving north. And she could couple it with something else, some sign to throw them off like¡­ like a flash effect.


    Hey, yeah, that was a thought. If she could get some kind of device that gave off a colored flash whenever she hit a button or something, and only used it when teleporting, they¡¯d start looking for someone who gave off that colored flash when they teleported. That could throw suspicion off her.


    And if¡­ wait, wait a minute. If she got one of the others to act as though they had her power, say¡­. have a disguised Pack take her hand and pretend she was the one turning intangible to walk them through a wall or a door, that could throw them off too, possibly.


    It was worth thinking about. Using her powers while throwing in different details to send the Ministry barking in the wrong direction. See how they liked being tricked. She¡¯d have to think about it some more, maybe look into what sort of things they could get a hold of that would help. But it was a thought. She¡¯d share it with Pack and Paintball too, see what they could come up with along the same general idea.


    Lost in those thoughts, Amber almost missed the commotion happening ahead of her. The music in her ears was loud enough that she didn¡¯t hear it at all. Not at first. But from the corner of her eye, she saw a car that had stopped basically in the middle of the street. Early as it was in this residential area, there weren¡¯t that many cars to begin with. But that one had stopped short.


    Blinking up, the girl saw a black sedan with dark windows. All four doors were open, as several people had gathered around one other person. All of them were Asian, and as Amber muted her music, tugging the earbuds out, she heard them talking in Chinese or something. Whatever it was, they were all clearly arguing. The three surrounding the other were all dressed in dark suits, two male and one female. All older. The one being talked at, who was doing just as much yelling back at them, was a younger female, maybe a year or two older than Amber at most.


    She had no idea what they were saying, but there was a lot of yelling and a lot of hand waving going on. It was clearly an intense argument that was getting more intense by the moment. Amber was afraid someone was going to start swinging. And judging from the vehement voice coming from the lone girl, it might well have been her.


    Fuck, what was she supposed to do? Could Amber intervene without exposing anything about herself? She wasn¡¯t in costume or anything. She wasn¡¯t That-A-Way, she was just Amber O¡¯Connell, high school student. There was no reason for anyone to listen to her, especially not a group like this. So what could she actually do? Should she try to at least speak up? Maybe these people would calm down if they knew they had an audience.


    Fortunately, before Amber had to make that decision, and before the whole situation escalated any further, another car showed up, slowing to stop beside the first. This one had diplomatic plates. In fact, Amber recognized it. And she recognized the man who stepped out of the passenger side. It was Tomas Jackson¡¯s father.


    Why was the UK diplomat here now? It was kind of weird enough that there were international diplomats in Detroit anyway, but Amber understood that was because of how much Touched manufacturing was in the city. A number of other countries had put a lot of money and resources into helping to build up this place, so they had a vested interest in keeping an eye on it. It was a whole thing.


    But why was the guy here right now? Was this a whole UK-Chinese thing? Or Japanese, she still wasn¡¯t sure exactly what they were. Maybe Korean? They could be¨Cfocus, Amber.


    For reasons she couldn¡¯t explain, she had already ducked behind the tree and the partial fence that was there. It was weird, but she felt like being seen watching this was a bad idea.


    Mr. Jackson stepped out of his car, saying something in¡­ whatever language they were speaking to the people there. There was a whole spiel of back and forth between those three, Mr. Jackson, and the girl they had been arguing with. Finally, Mr. Jackson stepped that way, gesturing for the others to step away while he said something more quietly to the girl and handed her something. It looked like a phone. She took it, held it to her ear and listened for about twenty seconds, then seemed to deflate a bit and handed it back.


    Things were calm then. Mr. Jackson said something to the other three Asian people and they moved to get back in their car. But he gestured to his own vehicle, and the girl they had been arguing with moved that way rather than following her other companions. Mr. Jackson opened the backdoor, and she moved to get in.


    Then something else weird happened. As Amber was watching, the girl¡­ wasn¡¯t a girl anymore. Her hair, facial features, and body shape shifted, until it was a boy getting in the car. She just casually shifted her sex before stepping in the vehicle, like taking off a hat.


    Mr. Jackson looked around, but Amber had already ducked back. She listened until both cars started up before peeking in time to see them drive away together.


    Okay¡­ that was weird, right?


    Because that seemed kind of weird.

 Trust 15-06

    ¡°Cassidy Evans. Like, the billionaire princess of Detroit, perfect daughter of their lord high majesties the queen and king of the city, Elena and Sterling? They who own half the buildings in this fucking city, and probably three-quarters of the government? That Cassidy Evans?¡±


    That was the new girl, of course. I had just introduced myself the moment Mrs. Donnelley had walked away, leading her to give me a double-take before blurting that whole thing out. She was staring at me as though I¡¯d just told her I was really Abraham Lincoln, raised up from the grave and set to run for another election with her on the ticket as vice-president.


    Opening my mouth, then shutting it as a blush settled across my face, I settled on a weak, ¡°Just Cassidy is fine, we don¡¯t usually go with the rest of the title unless it¡¯s a really special occasion.¡±


    The other girl shook her head at me, insisting, ¡°You ain¡¯t exactly what I was expecting.¡±


    Coughing, I offered a slight shrug. ¡°Yeah, I get that a lot. My parents don¡¯t exactly encourage a lot of paparazzi photos or anything, so most people who don¡¯t actually know us or look into it basically assume I¡¯m like¡­¡± Scanning the front lawn of the school, I gestured to a crowd of gorgeous cheerleaders heading inside together while laughing at something. ¡°One of them.¡±


    Giving a side-glance that way, the girl nodded. ¡°Yeah, something like that. You uhh, you sure you¡¯re not like a body-double or something? You know, someone to pull threats away from the real Cassidy Evans?¡± Even as she said it, I saw a grimace cross the girl¡¯s face. ¡°Sorry. That sounded less shitty in my head.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I get it,¡± I assured her. ¡°And if I was a body-double, I¡¯m doing a pretty shitty job. I mean, look at me. You were told I was Cassidy Evans and you¡¯re having trouble believing it. How many assassins are gonna take a look through a scope and be like, ¡®yeah, she looks like a billionaire¡¯s kid, let¡¯s do this?¡¯¡±


    For a moment, the two of us squinted at each other, before I managed, ¡°We¡¯re both trying to figure out if that¡¯s a good thing or a bad thing, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    Dani (that was her name, I finally remembered) laughed and shook her head. ¡°If you¡¯re really her, probably a good thing. Keep those assassins guessing.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight.¡± Grinning despite myself, I tried to ask why I felt so casual with this chick. We met like thirty seconds earlier, but it didn¡¯t feel like it. It felt like¡­ weird. Weirdly comfortable. Maybe it was still just a result of me finally being able to talk to Izzy about my family? Maybe I was just still incredibly relaxed and comfortable because I¡¯d expressed all that stuff I had been bottling up for so long, and it was spilling over into my interaction with this new girl. That was probably it, right? It made sense.


    Either way, I gestured. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll show you around. We¡¯ll stay low in case the assassins think you¡¯re a better candidate for Cassidy Evans than I am.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m black,¡± she pointed out mildly before starting to follow.


    ¡°I said what I said.¡± With that, I began to guide the new girl through the school, showing her where the main office was, where various sections of the school were, the library, study hall, the indoor tennis and basketball courts (she seemed confused about those being entirely separate rooms), our theater and auditoriums (again with the confusion), and the pools.


    ¡°Pools,¡± she echoed once we turned away from that door. ¡°As in plural. Multiple indoor pools at school.¡±


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a couple outdoor ones too,¡± I quickly assured her. ¡°If you go around the back and head¡­¡± Trailing off, I glanced toward the girl and grimaced. ¡°And that is totally not the point you were making, was it?¡± Flushing a little, I asked, ¡°You¡¯re really not used to this private school stuff. Did your parents win the lottery or something? I mean¨CI don¡¯t mean to sound like¨CI don¡¯t¨Cyou¡¯re just obviously not used to this stuff.¡±


    Her eyes rolled as she gestured to the clearly very stiff and not-very-used uniform. ¡°What gave it away? I blend in so well.¡± Snorting, the girl added, ¡°No, my folks didn¡¯t win the lottery. They ahh, took off. Well, Mom died so long ago I don¡¯t remember anything about her. Dad vamanosed with some chick awhile ago. I got bounced through foster homes for awhile, then they found some great-aunt or something. She lives in Europe, but apparently felt just bad enough to put me up in one of her apartments with a babysitter and have me go to school here.¡±


    It was weird. On the surface of it, every part of that story was logical and made sense. But I had this insistent little thought that it wasn¡¯t true. It was this little voice in the back of my head that kept poking me and insisting that there was something wrong with that story and I couldn¡¯t figure out why. Honestly, it was probably just my paranoia. I didn¡¯t know anything about this girl, and certainly didn¡¯t have any reason to doubt what she was saying. Aside from¡­ well,  everything in my life. Yeah, I did have reason to be suspicious about new people with uncertain backgrounds that popped into my orbit, especially with the whole biolem thing going on. And it wasn¡¯t like I could just ask if she was a real person or some biological android being.


    Yeah, paranoid. Absolutely and completely paranoid. This poor girl didn¡¯t deserve that kind of shit, especially when she was walking into this brand new situation. So, I shoved all those thoughts down, locked them in a box in the back of my mind, and chucked it away for the time being. I could be paranoid later. Right now, I was just going to stick to this being a normal school thing. For fuck¡¯s sake, I had enough problems without my brain inventing a whole new one about some random girl who just needed to be shown around for a few minutes.


    So, with a cough, I nodded. ¡°Sorry about your dad taking off, and¨Cuhh, all that. Sounds shitty. Decent apartment anyway?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°Entire place is probably about the size of your bedroom, Princess. But it¡¯s good enough for me.¡±


    Somehow, I didn¡¯t think informing the girl that she was probably exaggerating the size of her apartment rather than the size of my bedroom was exactly the right move. So, I snorted and nudged her as we made our way back around toward the front of the building. ¡°Well, at least you¡¯ve got a good school. Especially if you have any interest in swimming, inside or out!¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this about going swimming?¡± It was San Francisco, the boy popping up out of nowhere, wearing his ill-fitting school uniform that was clearly a size too big for him despite his husky frame. ¡°And who, might I ask, is your lovely new friend, Miss Evans?¡± He made a (very awkward) show of bowing.


    Rolling my eyes, I gestured back and forth between them. ¡°San, this is Dani, she¡¯s new. Dani, this is San Francisco and don¡¯t look at me like that San, she was gonna find out your name eventually.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, eventually, man. As in after I had time to make her get to know me,¡± the boy complained, shooting me a dirty look before turning back to the other girl. ¡°Don¡¯t let my parents being weird as fuck distract you from the magic fingers.¡± As he said it, San was holding both hands up, wiggling said fingers rapidly.


    For just a moment, I felt like slapping my own face. Instead, once the brief awkward silence had gone on long enough, I kicked San in the foot and hissed in a stage whisper, ¡°Dude, you might wanna explain what you mean before she switches from mentally filling out a restraining order to physically doing it.¡±


    Poor San¡¯s eyes had widened as he realized what he¡¯d said, and he¡¯d gone from wiggling his fingers to quickly holding his hands out in a stopping motion. ¡°N-no, no, not like, I mean¨Cpiano! I play piano! Keyboard, whatever you need. That¡¯s all I meant, you know, magic fingers, piano. I¡¯m really good. Uh, at the piano.¡±


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Deciding to throw the guy a bone, I nodded while chirping, ¡°He¡¯s not lying about that. He is really good with the¨Cwhat do they call it, tickling the ivory?¡±


    ¡°As long as the ivory is part of the piano, he can tickle it all he wants,¡± Dani retorted before giving the boy another look. ¡°Please stop wiggling your fingers at me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fair,¡± San agreed, shoving his hands behind his back. ¡°Anyway, that was a really long and awkward way of saying, suuuuuuup girl?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s new,¡± I put in quickly, before Dani had to respond to¡­ well, that. ¡°Obviously. I was just showing her around. She just umm, her great-aunt¡­¡± I trailed off, glancing that way since I wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted me babbling about her own personal history and situation.


    Dani, however, seemed not to care. She offered a shrug. ¡°Rich great-aunt, dead mom, missing dad, get to come to school here cuz of guilt or something. Who knows. I¡¯m not sticking my head in that wooden horse. But for the record, your flirting is barking up the wrong sapphic tree.¡±


    San, in turn, blinked once. ¡°Wrong sapphic¨Cohhh, you mean you¡¯re¨Cright. Have you met my friend Cassidy here?¡±


    My eyes rolled. ¡°San, how many times do I have to tell you, I¡¯m not gay?¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯d be such a good one,¡± he insisted teasingly, before gasping as I lightly kicked his shin. ¡°Ow, look, I just¨Coh there we go. Amber!¡±


    Sure enough, Amber was passing by, turning our way at San¡¯s words. She approached, asking, ¡°Have you guys seen Paige anywhere? I don¡¯t¨Cum. Hi.¡±


    San gestured back and forth between them. ¡°Amber, Dani. Dani, Amber. You two should do breakfast, you¡¯ve got a lot in common. But hey, look at the time. Let¡¯s go, Cass, we¡¯ve got that thing at the place.¡±


    Before I could protest or say anything else, he was pulling me away, leaving the two girls there staring at each other. As he pulled me to the school entrance, I snorted while yanking my arm free. ¡°Did anyone ever tell you it¡¯s weird that you¡¯re the one who keeps trying to set everyone up?¡±


    ¡°Hey, man, being a lover of romance doesn¡¯t mean only wanting it for yourself,¡± he informed me. ¡°I just want everyone to be happy, that¡¯s all. Is that a crime? And ahh, on a totally unrelated subject, how¡¯s everything going with Tomas?¡±


    As my face turned pink, I grabbed the door and pulled it open to step inside. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going with Tomas. Nothing. We¡¯re just friends, that¡¯s it.¡±


    Following me, San sounded unconvinced. ¡°Uh huh. Sure, babe, whatever you say.¡± He gave me a knowing look before gesturing. ¡°I gotta head for class, but if you wanna go be ¡®just friends¡¯ with Tomas some more, I think he¡¯s hanging in the music room auditioning people for his band.¡±


    With that, he headed off, and I turned to look back the way we¡¯d come. Amber and Dani were still standing there. It looked like they were talking. Weirdly, I felt like that was a good thing. And familiar, somehow.


    Eesh, I really had to stop paying attention to San. He was clearly a bad influence. Shaking that off, I turned to head for my own locker. On the way, I glanced over to where I knew Paige¡¯s was. Amber¡¯s question rang in my ears.


    Yeah, I¡¯d seen Paige. I knew where she was. I¡¯d even taken the time to call the school from my Touched phone, using the voice changer to pose as the other girl¡¯s adopted ¡®father¡¯ to say they were taking her out of town for a little while. The receptionist had tried to say something about signing a form, and I told her to fax it over to the number on the sheet, then hung up. I figured I¡¯d deal with that later. After all, the least I could do was try to help make sure Paige had a life to come back here to if¨Cwhen we managed to wake her up.


    Now all I had to worry about was how the hell we were going to pull that off.


    ********


    A few hours later, in my math class before lunch, I was poring over the set of problems we¡¯d been given to keep us busy for the last half of the period. At the same time, thoughts of what we might be able to do about Paige¡¯s situation kept intruding, making it hard to concentrate. Normally I didn¡¯t mind math so much, but right then I just couldn¡¯t make my mind focus.


    That problem was very quickly made worse as a voice came over the intercom, drawing everyone¡¯s attention that way. ¡°Attention students and faculty,¡± the voice of one of the office secretaries announced, ¡°due to altercations between members of the Easy Eight and Ninety-Niner criminal organizations taking place several blocks away, the authorities have asked that this school enter lockdown procedures. Rest assured, this action is purely taken as a measure of extreme caution, and there is no reason to believe the altercation will make its way this far. You should continue your scheduled work and lessons as planned, as class is still considered to be in session. Now, remain in your rooms and step away from all doors and windows as lockdown is initiated in five¡­ four¡­ three¡­ two¡­ one.¡±


    The moment the countdown finished, while all the people around me were already chattering excitedly, lockdown started. In our case, that meant steel shutters closing around all the windows, along with a larger one closing around our classroom door. It was a safety procedure. Now all the classrooms, as well as the various entrances into the school itself, would be completely shielded.


    Which meant I couldn¡¯t go out to see what was happening in this ¡®altercation¡¯ between those two Fell-Gangs even if I wanted to. There was no way I¡¯d be able to, say, ask the teacher if I could possibly use the restroom for twenty minutes or so just to nip out and take a peek.


    Yeah, so right now I was stuck here the same as everyone else. Obviously, despite what the receptionist had requested, nobody was focused on math anymore. Not even our teacher. Everyone was chattering about what was going on down the street, trying to find details on their phones, and speculating about which gang would win the fight.


    Meanwhile, I¡­ well, I was basically in the same position. I was trying to find out the truth about what was going on out there. Not that knowing would¡¯ve helped me. I was stuck here in this room the same as everyone else. No rushing out to help deal with the situation for me.


    Sighing, I turned to look toward Jae, who sat behind me. Her gaze was locked intently on the nearby steel-covered window, looking almost as though she wanted to bore her way through it. Was she claustrophobic or something? It just looked like she really didn¡¯t want to be trapped in here.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting worse, isn¡¯t it?¡± I spoke up, trying to distract her. As the pale girl¡¯s pink eyes blinked to me with confusion, I added, ¡°The fighting between those gangs. The news said they¡¯ve really started going after each other lately. Now they¡¯re fighting close enough to get the school locked down?¡±


    There was a brief pause before Jae gave a slight nod, her voice quiet. ¡°I hope someone stops them.¡±


    Ouch. Yeah, someone should be out there stopping them. For a moment, I wondered how much of this my parents were going to allow to happen. After all, there was no way this whole war would¡¯ve gone on this long or escalated like this if they weren¡¯t allowing it. Obviously, they¡¯d signed off on Blackjack getting his revenge or whatever against the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro for trying to stop him from getting the vials to save his daughter. As for the Easy Eights, maybe he and Deicide had come to some kind of arrangement as part of the favor he owed her for giving back the vial she had?


    I wasn¡¯t sure. Either way, it was two Fell-gangs versus two other Fell-gangs, and my parents were allowing it to go on. So how much damage was enough for them? How many people would be hurt or killed while they allowed the fighting to continue? Did they give a shit about any of those people?


    ¡°Cassidy.¡± Jae¡¯s quiet voice pulled me back, and I realized she had been staring at me with a look of concern. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Right, apparently there¡¯d been something in my expression while I¡¯d thought about my family. Quickly, I nodded. ¡°Sorry, yeah. Just thinking about how long we¡¯re gonna be stuck in here.¡± Biting my lip, I glanced to the girl. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Again, the other girl paused momentarily before admitting, ¡°I don¡¯t like being trapped.¡±


    Listening to the buzz of conversation from the rest of the class around us, I grimaced. ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. But hopefully it won¡¯t be too long. I mean, the authorities should break it up soon enough, right?¡±


    Jae¡¯s response to that was a noncommittal noise, before we were interrupted by the sound of our teacher getting the television in the corner of the room tuned to the right station. Abruptly, everyone saw the scene going on just a few blocks away. It looked like something out of an action movie. Cars were overturned in the middle of the street as various Prev members of either gang used them for cover while taking shots at one another. Fell-Touched were there too, like Angel Dust, Juice, and Skadi on the Easy Eights side, and Sandon and Jailtime on the Ninety-Niners side, along with some other guy I didn¡¯t recognize, who was dressed like an old west cowboy with a demon mask.


    The news was right, it was a warzone. There were people lying in the middle of the street, clearly injured or worse. The news chopper doing its best to stay above the action and out of the way while still giving a good view of what was going on. Which allowed us to see more people huddled behind buildings or in any cover they could find, just trying to stay out of the way. Seeing the people out there, clearly terrified and trapped, made me bristle. Fuck. I wanted to be out there. I wanted to go help them, but I couldn¡¯t. I was as trapped in this room as those people were trapped where they were.


    How long would my parents let this go on? I had no idea. But I was pretty sure of one thing.


    This war was probably going to get a lot worse before it got better.

 Trust 15-07

    We got through the lockdown without any problems beyond a couple anxiety attacks in other classrooms, and what I heard was a positively hysterical tantrum from some guy who was pissed off that he was supposed to head to the airport just after lunch in order to head for some special event his family was putting on and now he wouldn¡¯t be able to make it in time. As if his family, who I knew for a fact did business with mine, couldn¡¯t afford to reschedule a flight. He just kept going on about how the fighting was blocks away, the airport was in a totally different direction, just let him leave god damn it, and so on. Somebody recorded it and put it online.


    Selfish tantrums aside, there weren¡¯t any problems. The fighting never came any closer, and we were released from the lockdown within a couple hours. They also cancelled the rest of school, sending us home for the day. Which was fine for me, since it gave me time to swing by the site of the battle for a looksee. Not that I expected to find anything all that helpful, but still.


    First, of course, I had to call Jefferson and let him know that he did not actually have to come pick me up early, despite the school calling him. He didn¡¯t exactly sound broken up about it, given how far outside of his schedule such a reroute would have taken him. Still, he made sure I wasn¡¯t in any distress, using the code phrase to establish that no one was making me call him off. I just let him know that I was hanging out with some friends for awhile and would meet him outside Izzy¡¯s school when it was time to pick her up, since he¡¯d be there anyway.


    Once that was done, I headed for the first private area I could find (an alley between two buildings where a small, dark doorway was cut off from any view) and changed into my costume. Hiding the bag with my clothes and other things, I took to the roofs and began to head for the area where the fighting had been going on.


    The place was still swarming with emergency services, of course. There was a mix of cops, paramedics, firefighters, and even Prev members of Ten Towers and the Seraphs. It was a madhouse, especially when the reporters were added in. The whole battle had mostly been centered around two city blocks, and the authorities had basically that whole area cordoned off. As I landed on a roof at the edge of the territory, a guy dressed in a Ten Towers security uniform (including full SWAT-like armor, helmet, and protective mask) who had been standing up there with a rifle slung over his shoulder and binoculars in one hand turned abruptly, hand moving to the weapon before stopping himself. ¡°Paintball. You¡¯re a bit late.¡±


    There was something vaguely familiar about his voice, but it was muffled by the mask, and the guy was talking a bit quietly, obviously trying not to attract any attention from the rest of the emergency people. His words weren¡¯t exactly scolding, and he tempered even that with, ¡°Good. No reason for you to skip school to be out here. Wait.¡± Clearly frowning behind the protective cloth covering his face, the man asked, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you still be in school?¡±


    Oh, right, that was a thing huh? Technically they thought I was in middle school or something and had no reason whatsoever to think I¡¯d been let out early. Actually, them thinking I was let out early would be a really bad thing, given how much it would narrow things down. Shit.


    Thankfully, I¡¯d learned to think quickly and offered the man a shrug. ¡°Study hall. I just wanted to see what happened. The news said everything was handled, but¡­¡±


    ¡°The news got that one right,¡± the man informed me. ¡°It¡¯s all handled, we¡¯re just cleaning up a few stragglers that tried to hide, and pulling out the injured.¡± After a brief pause, he added, ¡°Listen, kid, you need to leave this one alone. Anything like this. It¡¯s all well and good that you help people, that¡¯s great. Stop a robbery, nail a mugger, you do you. But this¡­ this is a gangwar. They¡¯re going fu¨Cfreaking nuts out there. It¡¯s nothing you want to be close to or involved in. Seriously. Just leave things like this to the people who¨Cwho have more experience.¡± His voice had softened toward the end, as the man quietly insisted, ¡°You don¡¯t deserve to see the kind of stuff that happens down there.¡±


    Oh, if only he knew. My family allowed this stuff to happen. I did deserve to see it. I deserved to understand what kind of horrible things my parents accepted and even profited off of. I needed to understand exactly how much death and destruction they allowed in the name of their bottom line. Maybe it would help me shove aside some of the conflicted feelings I had.


    I didn¡¯t say any of that, of course. Opening up to Izzy had been one of the best experiences of the past couple months, but I wasn¡¯t stupid. Well, not that stupid, anyway. I didn¡¯t know a single thing about this guy, for all that he was trying to sympathize with me and everything. He was just some guy who could¡¯ve worked for my parents directly, for all I knew.


    Instead, I offered the man a nod. ¡°Fighting¡¯s over now anyway, no reason for me to get involved. Unless I can go back in time, and as far as I know, that¡¯s not one of my powers. I¡¯ll ahh, keep you updated if that changes.¡±


    From the man¡¯s body posture, he knew I was just trying to lighten the mood. Still, he coughed and gestured. ¡°You better take off, kid. I¡¯ve gotta get back to work before one of those fucks manages to sneak out.¡±


    Giving him a thumbs up, I turned, using a shot of red to pull myself up toward the balcony of another building slightly further away. He watched me go, offering a short salute before turning back to the job of panning the area with his binoculars as my feet left the roof.


    Except, just as I was being pulled away by the paint, I heard a song start up. It was a Zenith Renaissance song, the same group that had played at Paige¡¯s birthday party the other day. Except it wasn¡¯t actually Zenith Renaissance playing it. It was a different band doing a live cover of one of their songs, a cover that had been widely panned by basically everyone I knew.


    On its own, that didn¡¯t mean anything. But I knew one person who did like that cover more than the original, one person who had it as his ringtone and always took shit from his friend whenever it went off.


    His friend, my brother. The guy I had just been talking to, whose voice had been familiar, was one of Simon¡¯s friends. He was a Korean-American guy named Kevin. And Kevin definitely wasn¡¯t a member of Ten Towers. As far as I knew, he was still in college. I kind of doubted Ten Towers was so hard-up for new employees that they¡¯d take him when the last thing I¡¯d heard was that he was about to go for his art history major.


    It was him. I knew it was him. Hearing the ringtone had made the familiar bit of his voice click in my head. My brother¡¯s friend Kevin, someone who definitely wasn¡¯t part of Ten Towers, was the guy I¡¯d just been talking to.


    Instantly, as I landed on that balcony, I was already leaping off it. I didn¡¯t jump back the way I¡¯d come, of course. That would¡¯ve been too obvious. Instead, I jumped to the ground, painting myself black with just enough orange to cushion the landing. Even as I hit the cement, I was using another quick red shot to haul myself up to a windowsill just below the roof where I had been talking to Kevin. On the way, I activated the black paint on my costume and used a bit more on the building itself, to land completely silently in that brick windowsill.


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    Kevin was still talking on the roof above me, ¡°Yeah, Paintball was here. Naw, man, he didn¡¯t stick around. I told him this stuff was dangerous. Yeah, think he was skipping school. You know those public teachers, they don¡¯t give a shit. Ain¡¯t paid enough to give a shit.¡±


    There was a long pause before Kevin spoke again. ¡°Yeah, nothing¡¯s going on here. They¡¯ve got it covered. Sure, man. I¡¯ll stick around and keep an eye on things, but it looks like they stuck to the rules. No further than Rowe avenue. They kept it contained.¡±


    No further than Rowe avenue. That was the street this building was on. So, the gang war did have limits that they stuck to. They were told by my family not to take it past this street, probably because my school was a few blocks away. That just really showed how much control my family had, didn¡¯t it?


    I listened some more, but Kevin didn¡¯t say much. Except toward the end, shortly before signing off. After a long pause where he was clearly listening to Simon, he answered, ¡°When¡¯s that? Wednesday. Yeah, I got it. Eleven-thirty outside the mall. I¡¯ll be there. Yes, yeah, I¡¯ll tell Elvis and Reynard. We¡¯ll deal with it. Can I get the hell out of this uniform already? It¡¯s hot as fuck.¡± There was a groan, then, ¡°Twenty minutes, fine. Just in case.¡±


    Elvis and Reynard were both other friends I¡¯d seen around Simon, the latter being the guy back at the mall whose name I had previously thought was Derrick. Apparently all of them worked with the Ministry, which made sense I supposed. And they were all going to meet up Wednesday night at eleven-thirty to do¡­ something. I wasn¡¯t sure what, but the fact that they were meeting near the mall where I knew a Ministry base was¡­ yeah, I was going to have to be there at least to take a look.


    And hey, maybe I¡¯d finally get some idea of how we could break in there.


    *******


    I didn¡¯t find out much else useful while hanging out below Kevin. Well, not much aside from the fact that his identity as a member of the Ten Towers security force was secure enough that he could get reports from them and talk to actual Touched, since Skip showed up for a moment to check in on how his lookout was going. I heard her voice abruptly, the girl casually talking to him to find out if he¡¯d seen anything. From the things they said, I had the impression that she didn¡¯t actually know him personally, but had seen him around the Towers headquarters enough to recognize him. Which, again, said a lot about how far Towers had been infiltrated.


    Or maybe they didn¡¯t need to be infiltrated. For all I knew, Caishen was in on the Ministry thing from the very beginning. Or their CEOs, at the very least. That made sense, right? Ten Towers was about protecting their bottom line, about making money. The Ministry helped that happen and controlled just how much crime took place. It would make sense that the top leadership of Ten Towers knew at least some of that situation and signed off on it. With my dad¡¯s work and contacts¨Cyeah. Actually, the Ministry being strongly connected to Ten Towers was a huge possibility.


    Either way, it was eventually clear that I wouldn¡¯t learn anything as Kevin was getting ready to leave. Things had calmed down, there were no more outbreaks of violence, and the only thing left was simply cleaning up.


    So, I took off first, staying quiet and low as I did so. Once I was a few blocks away, I slowed and took a moment to think about what I knew. Kevin was one of my brother¡¯s friends, and they all worked with the Ministry. That made sense. He had obviously been placed to make sure the fighting didn¡¯t move any further than my parents had allowed. So they were controlling how bad it got, at least to an extent. Enough to keep it away from my school, I thought bitterly. But not enough to stop it entirely.


    Yeah, I understood why Blackjack was mad. His daughter had almost suffered a horrific, agonizing death, and both the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro had contributed to that. They tried to stop him from being able to save her life. Of course he was pissed off. But innocent people were being caught in the crossfire here while he pursued this war. People as innocent as his daughter was were going to get hurt and die while he went after his vendetta.


    But what could I do about it? I couldn¡¯t exactly demand a meeting and tell the man to back off, or only fight the battles against his rivals in safe areas. I was pretty sure he had no reason to listen to me, even if I had helped get those vials back. At least, any sort of favor he might¡¯ve owed wouldn¡¯t go that far.


    Damn it, what was I supposed to do? I already had the Ministry base to infiltrate and this Paige thing to figure out. What could I do about a fucking gang war? Blackjack wanted revenge against his enemies for nearly getting his daughter killed. Nothing I could say to the man would dissuade him from that. If nothing else, he clearly wanted to make sure nobody else ever tried to put his daughter in danger.


    Abruptly, my musings were interrupted by a female voice that spoke up casually from nearby. ¡°You seem distracted.¡±


    It was Skip. Which my brain told me a moment after my heart leapt out of my chest and about half a dozen curses had left my mouth as I jerked sideways and spun toward her. The Ten Towers girl was standing a few yards away, watching me. As always, she wore the blue-black bodysuit under a white short-sleeved robe and hood, with a black mask covering the bottom half of her face while leaving enough of the top half revealed to make it clear that she was Asian. Her eyes were vaguely curious, which said a lot considering how unemotional and impossible to read the girl tended to be.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she informed me flatly, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to startle you. There isn¡¯t really a subtle way of getting someone¡¯s attention in this situation.¡±


    Shoving back a few instinctive and unfair reactions, I took a breath. ¡°I guess not. What¨Cum, what did you¡­ right, distracted. Yeah, I guess I am, a little. But I never really¨CI didn¡¯t get a chance to thank you for helping me out before. Not as much as I should¡¯ve.¡±


    Skip said nothing to that, she simply tilted her head as though waiting patiently. Realizing what she was waiting for, I quickly continued with, ¡°So uhh, thanks. Thanks a lot.¡±


    ¡°You are welcome,¡± the girl returned in that same eerily calm voice that she never wavered from. ¡°Are we finished with the gratitude ritual now? May we move on?¡± Again, though her words sounded rude if I just thought about them separately, they didn¡¯t come out that way in her voice. She wasn¡¯t intentionally dismissing my thanks or anything, just as she didn¡¯t intentionally dismiss danger or fear. Talking in that flat, matter-of-fact tone was just¡­ how she was.


    Did that have to do with her powers somehow? I wasn¡¯t sure. Her abilities let her ¡®skip¡¯ effects. Was she skipping emotions, like¡­ constantly? Or the effect of emotions, or something? I didn¡¯t think it was that simple, because she clearly still cared about doing the right thing and about helping people. I¡¯d seen videos of the girl with her niece, Lightning Bug. It was clear that she adored the kid, and vice versa. So it was more than just making herself emotionless, right?


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re finished,¡± I confirmed, shoving those thoughts aside. ¡°But if you didn¡¯t come for the gratitude ritual, was there something else? Or did you just wanna say hi? Cuz I am cool with just saying hi.¡±


    ¡°I saw you leave the secure perimeter,¡± Skip informed me. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for a chance to tell you, Lightning Bug would like you to visit sometime. If you¡¯re not too busy. She¡¯s been watching videos online about you.¡±


    Flushing a bit at the idea that I had videos online for people to watch, I offered a shrug. ¡°Sure, I can visit. When umm¡­ when¡¯s a good time?¡±


    ¡°Tonight?¡± came the suggestion. ¡°Not too late. Her bedtime is eleven o¡¯clock. And we will have a few other guests as well, so you won¡¯t have to feel singled out.¡±


    ¡°Tonight, not too late,¡± I confirmed with a thumbs up. ¡°I¡¯ll stop by first chance I get.¡±


    ¡°Come at seven for dinner.¡± Skip sounded completely serious with her suggestion, even adding, ¡°We have arrangements to maintain your secret identity while eating.¡±


    And then she was gone. Just like that. She disappeared. No niceties, nothing like that. She just said the last thing she wanted to say, and vanished, teleporting off to the next thing.


    Shaking that off, I turned back. Right, it was just about time to head back so I could change clothes and meet up with Izzy outside her school. I¡¯d have to tell her about the invitation to see Lightning Bug again.


    On my way to the school, I pondered how hard it would be to swing an invitation for Pack as well. If not this time, then at some other point. Yeah, probably pretty hard, considering she was a villain and a thief and all. I doubted a place like Ten Towers, meant to be security for corporations and businesses, looked kindly on that sort of thing.


    But hey, wouldn¡¯t it be fucking awesome to see Pack¡¯s lizards and Lightning Bug¡¯s giant insects in a big wrestling match?

 Patreon Snippets 8

    Eits


    With a polite ding, the elevator doors opened, and Ryder Towling (the name the boy publicly known as Eits had taken for himself after his transition) stepped out onto the third floor of the apartment building. Or rather, staggered out, considering how full his arms were. The brown-haired boy had several grocery bags hooked over each of his somewhat gangly limbs, and was clutching a few of what looked like long cardboard tubes with caps on either end to his chest. The keys to the building that he¡¯d used to get in were clutched between his teeth.


    Unlike when he appeared in his La Casa costume, the civilian Ryder didn¡¯t dress to wow people. Or to attract attention at all. At the moment, he wore simple faded gray jeans, tennis shoes, a burgundy tee shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Between that and his habit of watching the ground or his phone while walking, and his unremarkable drab brown hair that was a couple weeks late for a trim to tame it back to some working order, he blended right into most crowds.


    Shuffling awkwardly down the hall while doing his level best not to drop anything, Ryder nodded politely to old Mrs. Jansen when she came trundling out of her own apartment. He shook his head when she asked if he needed help. Not that it wouldn¡¯t have been nice given how overloaded he was (but who wanted to make more than one trip all the way back to the car?), but there really wasn¡¯t much the nice elderly lady could do. She used a walker to get around as it was.


    Waiting until Mrs. Jansen had made it to the elevator and stepped on, the boy turned back to the door of his own apartment. A thought summoned one of his mites, which jumped into the security keypad there and a moment later there was a confirming beep as the door clicked open just far enough for Ryder to push it the rest of the way with his foot and step through.


    Finally, he was inside, and nudged the door shut with his heel. Once it clicked and he heard the affirming beep of the lock, the boy dismissed the mite in the control panel before heading through the narrow entranceway. To the left was his bathroom, his bedroom was straight ahead, and the living room and kitchen were to the right. That last was the way he went, yet just before he would have made it to the dining table in the living room and been safe, his feet seemed to tangle up in themselves. With a startled yelp, the boy pitched forward, falling to the floor while sending his groceries and the long tubes he was carrying scattering everywhere.


    ¡°Well,¡± Ryder mumbled while squinting at the mess from where he lay, ¡°that¡¯s just typical.¡±


    Groaning, he picked himself up and began picking up the keys that had fallen from his mouth before moving on to the food items. Over the next few minutes, the boy restocked his fridge and put things away. As he did so, moving from spot to spot to pick up everything, he thought about how much easier Paintball would¡¯ve had it. He could just stand in front of the fridge and shoot red paint at anything he needed to pull to himself.


    No, not himself. Herself. She. Yeah. Ryder had trained himself not to think or say anything about Paintball actually being a girl in front of anyone else. He¡¯d promised, after all. He¡¯d sworn to Paintball that he¡¯d keep her secret, and that was a promise he wouldn¡¯t break. Especially not by being a complete idiot and blurting out the wrong pronoun at the wrong time. It was safer for the whole situation if he just made himself think of Paintball as a boy as much as possible.


    But she wasn¡¯t. She was a girl. And more than that, she was actually older than everyone thought. All those people who thought Paintball was like a thirteen-year-old boy, when she was actually, as the girl herself had put it ¡®closer to college than middle school.¡¯ She¡¯d had a sixteenth birthday, at least. She¡¯d mentioned that much, about how her family had celebrated that she¡¯d finally made it to five feet in height that day.


    Paintball was a girl around Ryder¡¯s age. Maybe a bit younger. Either way, that was a hell of a lot different than anyone else thought. Which had to help keep her secret identity. Yet it was more than that. The desperation he¡¯d heard and seen in the girl when she thought he might blow her secret, it was¡­ there was¡­ something big. A lot bigger than just keeping her superheroing secret from her parents or whatever. She had been scared, terrified.


    But why? What had her so upset? Was she afraid of a specific person? Was she hiding from something bad she¡¯d done in the past? What if people in some other city knew the kind of powers she used but didn¡¯t realize it was her because she was pretending to be a boy now?


    Yeah, that was a rabbit hole of paranoia that Ryder had gone down a few times. He¡¯d had to talk himself out of actively looking up people who might have similar powers to what Paintball had, telling himself that it would be violating her trust. Digging into what could be her past, trying to figure out what her big secret was¡­ it was tempting. The whole situation was so confusing. But it was a bad idea. It would be a betrayal of someone who deserved better.


    And yet, he couldn¡¯t help but think what she might need was help. And would she ever ask for it? Whatever was wrong, whatever or whoever had her so terrified about even her sex being discovered, was clearly bad enough that she needed more help than she was getting.


    That was the situation he was stuck in. He knew Paintball was in some kind of trouble or had some secret traumatic backstory, but he couldn¡¯t actually help her. Because digging into her past or trying to uncover her identity would be betraying her, and just a real shit thing to do in general. Yet just leaving it alone and hoping she got the help she needed when the time came? Was that the right thing to do? What was the right thing to do, damn it?


    He had no idea. Hell, he¡¯d even briefly considered checking with that Squire guy. Simon. He¡¯d gone by Ryder first, which was where the new Ryder had taken his name from. Oh, and Squire. He was known by that moniker too. But his real name was Simon, and Simon had given Ryder a card he could use to potentially call if he got in trouble. After saving him from trouble the first time.


    If anyone could help Paintball with whatever problem she had, it was Simon and the people he worked for. Ryder didn¡¯t know a lot about that whole situation, only that they were really important. And powerful, given Simon had apparently hidden his real appearance behind an illusion. They were connected, and Simon himself had already saved Ryder once.


    But no. That would definitely be violating Paintball¡¯s trust. Maybe he could bring it up to her, mention a guy called Squire who might be able to help with any¡­ problems she had? Would that be the best approach?


    Ryder¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by a ringing phone, and he quickly grabbed it from his pocket, answering with a, ¡°It¡¯s Ryder.¡±


    ¡°Hey, kid.¡± It was Grace. Or rather, Cardsharp. Her voice was all business. ¡°You get those hotel blueprints yet? We¡¯ve gotta get a move on if we¡¯re gonna pull this off.¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh!¡± Shifting his thoughts away from Paintball for the time being (not like he could do anything about that whole situation now anyway), Ryder quickly moved to grab the long tubes from the floor. Uncapping one, he spread the large rolled up blueprint out over his table, weighing down the corners with a couple books. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got them right here.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± came the response. ¡°I¡¯m on my way to your place. You want me to pick up some Chinese or something? This is probably gonna be a long night. We need to make sure this whole operation goes off without a hitch.¡±


    ¡°Sure, sure, yeah, that sounds good. You know what I like. See you soon. We¡¯ll figure it out.¡± After exchanging last pleasantries, Ryder disconnected, staring at the blueprints in front of him. Yet his mind wasn¡¯t quite focused the way it was supposed to be. Despite his attempt to push Paintball out of his mind, the girl and her situation was still stubbornly there, right at the corner of his thoughts.


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    What the hell was going on with her? Who was she, really? And why was it so hard for him to push the girl out of his thoughts?


    *******


    Pack and That-A-Way While Paintball Was In The Warehouse With Paige


    The sound of gunfire filled the air as That-A-Way ran along the six-foot-high concrete wall that surrounded the car lot where members of La Casa and the Ninety-Niners had started brawling. Moving to the east as she was, the very few bullets that hit her (these Ninety-Niner chumps weren¡¯t the greatest shots to begin with, let alone in the dark) simply bounced off. All three men kept shooting, none getting the point that it wasn¡¯t working. Which was good, considering the entire reason Way had shown herself like that was to present a tempting, distracting target.


    Finally, at the very end of the wall before one of the lot entrances, That-A-Way pivoted to her right, facing the men. Which meant she was now facing south. Her intangibility kicked in, making the bullets simply pass through her while she blew the men a kiss, right before Whamline, who had taken that time to get into position, grabbed the trio with his energy cords and hurled them away to crash into the side of an SUV with ¡®shockingly low price¡¯ stickers all over it.


    Distraction successfully accomplished, the (currently blonde thanks to her Touched-Tech mask) girl threw herself backward off the wall, dropping to the other side just as a crossbow bolt struck the part where she had been standing. The moment the bolt hit where her feet had been, a six-foot-wide section of the wall simply burst apart. It didn¡¯t explode in the typical sense. Rather, the wall broke apart into hundreds if not thousands of tiny inch or two inch wide chunks, expanding into a large debris cloud that was perfectly orb-shaped. The pieces of wall held there for a few seconds, then all fell to the ground.


    Scatterking. That was the work of Scatterking, one of the Ninety-Niners. Way could see him even as the six-foot-wide section of wall was destroyed. He was a younger Touched from the look of him, her own age or even younger. He wore a black bodysuit with a green trenchcoat over it and a silver metal helmet-mask thing with a crown shape on top to go with the ¡®king¡¯ motif. The lower half of his face was exposed while the top half was hidden under a white visor attached to the helmet crown. He carried a pistol-crossbow and a rapier, either of which he could channel his power into. It was a power that allowed him to charge inanimate objects so that, if they struck something, the other thing would blow apart into little chunks and hover there in an orb-cloud the way she¡¯d just seen.


    If the thing he affected that way was a non-living object, he could choose to either put it back together as if nothing had happened, or let the whole thing fall apart and remain destroyed, as he had with the wall. If the thing he affected was a living object, he couldn¡¯t leave it broken. The person or animal would return to their normal, uninjured shape after a few seconds. But, from what That-A-Way had read and heard, the experience was horrifically painful and traumatic. Not fun at all. Definitely not anything she wanted to experience. Especially considering his power apparently even worked on intangible and invulnerable things.


    She could see the smile curving his lips as the boy paused before sprinting toward her. He loosed another shot from his crossbow before drawing the rapier. That time, however, the bolt didn¡¯t get anywhere near her. It wasn¡¯t intended to. Halfway to the girl, it suddenly exploded in a burst of bright light that made Way reel with a yelp. The bolt was a flash-bomb, a distraction, so the boy himself could close the distance with his rapier.


    Not being able to see didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t use her powers, of course. Yet even before Way could focus on that, she heard a roar, followed by a squeal and a thud. She had already thrown herself to the side by the time her vision cleared, allowing her to see Scatterking lying on his side with a certain reptilian cat-like figure perched on his back, still growling at the boy.


    ¡°Holiday!¡± she blurted unthinkingly. It was her, the panther-lizard pinning the Ninety-Niner Touched to the ground. But if she was there, that had to mean¨C


    ¡°Hey there, babe!¡± Pack was there, but off to the side. She was sitting in the driver¡¯s seat of one of the pick-up trucks that were part of the sale lot, dangling keys from her fingers. The rest of her lizards were all in the back. ¡°If you don¡¯t quit playing with the mean boy, I might think you don¡¯t want to arrest me anymore.¡± With that, she started the truck and, with a roar of the engine, pulled away. Holiday abandoned Scatterking with one last swat to the back of his head, then ran to catch up, jumping into the back with her companions.


    Immediately, Way popped back to her feet. She took one last look toward Scatterking, but two of the Syndicates were already there, one waving for her to go after the truck.


    So, she did. Pivoting back, the girl saw the truck off in the distance. It was still traveling north and within sight, despite having every opportunity to turn down a different street. Which meant she could teleport straight to it, and she did so without a moment¡¯s hesitation, landing just inside the front cab in the passenger seat.


    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± Pack remarked casually. ¡°I was starting to think I¡¯d have to circle the block and come back.¡±


    ¡°What¨Cwhat are you doing?!¡± Amber blurted, turning in the seat to stare that way. Not that it helped, considering the other girl¡¯s face was completely covered by a full, featureless black mask with no holes. ¡°I thought we were gonna lay low while we look into this¨C¡± She hissed the word, ¡°¨CMinistry thing. And now you¡¯re part of a fucking gang war in the middle of the streets?¡±


    Pack didn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, she pulled the truck off the road and into a parking garage, taking the little receipt that popped out marking what time she¡¯d arrived before driving to an empty spot in the back. Only then did she turn to face the Minority girl.


    Even when she¡¯d snapped the demand a moment earlier, Amber had expected Pack to make some sort of dismissive, casual retort. She still expected it. But those words didn¡¯t come. Instead, the other girl spoke quietly. ¡°My boss is at war with the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro. I can¡¯t exactly refuse to participate. He found out they were making a move against one of the car lots he owns through shell companies, we had to retaliate.¡±


    ¡°Wha¨Cyou mean¡­¡± Amber turned, looking in the back of the truck where Holiday and the other transformed lizards were eagerly watching her. ¡°He owns it. Blackjack owns that car lot.¡±


    ¡°Distantly, sure,¡± Pack confirmed, gesturing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not taking the truck anywhere else. You can tell them you chased me off away from here, so they can recover it, take the truck back to the lot, sell it, and Blackjack can earn even more totally legitimate money.¡±


    ¡°Oh, my God.¡± With a groan, Amber put her face in her hands. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this shit. And I can¡¯t even tell anyone, because how would I know? Plus, even if I could explain how I knew, it wouldn¡¯t matter, because your boss and the Ministry are peas in a pod anyway, so it wouldn¡¯t go anywhere. Silversmith would just erase any evidence, dismiss anything I said, or worse.¡±


    Pack started to say something, then glanced into the back and made a sound that was half-curse and half-growl. ¡°Down!¡± She was talking to both Amber and her lizards, as a handful of Ninety-Niner thugs had apparently followed them to the garage and were rapidly approaching, firing shots at the truck.


    As both girls ducked, Pack looked over to That-A-Way. ¡°Wanna help me deal with these guys, Rose?¡±


    There was a brief pause before Amber reached out to grab the other girl¡¯s arm. ¡°Yeah,¡± she muttered darkly.


    ¡°I¡¯d love to hit someone right now.¡±


    *******


    A short time later, the two of them were finally alone again. Well, alone aside from Pack¡¯s collection of friends. This time on the roof of the parking garage, with the lizards spread out behind them.


    ¡°Well!¡± Pack declared as she shook her hand out. There was blood on her glove from where she had punched one of the men in there who dared threaten Tuesday. ¡°That was exhilarating. Guess we¡¯re done now. Unless¡­¡± Her tone turned a bit mischievous and pointed. ¡°You think you and me should wrestle.¡±


    ¡°You and I,¡± Amber immediately corrected without thinking.


    ¡°Well, if you insist,¡± Pack teased, stepping that way before catching both of Amber¡¯s hands as the other girl raised them, palms out as though to stop her. Interlacing their fingers, the black-masked girl seemed to stare intently at Amber from only a foot away, their hands locked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she murmured in a low voice, ¡°we¡¯ll only wrestle when you ask for it.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Feeling her face turn red and knowing that most of hers was visible (though altered a bit) beneath the domino mask, Amber finally extracted her hands and turned away to take her phone out to look at it. ¡°I have to check with my team and¨Cfuck!¡±


    Head cocking to the side, Pack remarked, ¡°Either I was really wrong about how boring being part of the Minority would be, or¨C¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Amber blurted, pivoting back. ¡°He sent a bunch of messages about needing help while we were busy.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Pack produced her own phone to look at. ¡°¡­ Fuck.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta go, I can¡¯t¨Cif the team wonders where¨C¡±


    ¡°Go,¡± Pack gave her a push. ¡°If they ask, just tell them you chased me that far. Get there. I¡¯ll make sure things are cool and come after. Hurry.¡±


    Amber hesitated only for another second, then cursed again and pivoted, sprinting away before immediately teleporting. The actual destination was more to the west than north, so she¡¯d have to use superspeed to get most of the way there.


    Watching the other girl disappear, Pack glanced to her lizards, who sat there expectantly, then started to run. ¡°Well guys, we better get over there.


    ¡°And see what kind of trouble Paintball¡¯s managed to get himself into this time.¡±

 Trust 15-08

    Right, so I had¡­ dinner plans, I supposed. Too bad I couldn¡¯t tell my parents where I was going. Having dinner with Caishen, Skip, and Lightning Bug might actually have impressed them. Or maybe not, considering my whole idea that they could be connected to the Ministry. Maybe Caishen was just another one of my family¡¯s secret minions. Hell, for all I knew, this entire thing was an elaborate ruse to pick my brain or try to figure out how much I knew about them.


    Maybe I was being a little paranoid. But wasn¡¯t that better than being not paranoid enough?


    Either way, I was definitely going to keep my eyes open. But seriously, I did want to see the kid again, and if Ten Towers was part of the Ministry or connected to them in any way, cultivating a relationship was the best way of finding that out, right? Right. Maybe I was talking myself into a dumb idea, but at that point I couldn¡¯t exactly refuse the invitation without looking even weirder.


    ¡°Weird is better than exposed,¡± Izzy informed me as the two of us sat at an old wooden picnic table near the corner of her new school¡¯s front yard. She¡¯d gotten out of her final class early, since they were finishing up some kind of project she couldn¡¯t participate in, so we were waiting for a few minutes until Jefferson showed up. Which was good, since it gave me time to explain the situation and go through my whole probably slightly-crazed thought process with her.


    This whole ¡®saying the crazy things happening to me out loud instead of bottling them up forever¡¯ thing was really something. It almost felt as though I was letting out enough pressure that sticking a balloon in my ear wouldn¡¯t actually blow it up. Which was just crazy.


    Of course, I still felt bad about involving someone as young as Izzy in the whole thing in the first place. Which was kind of partially replacing that whole stress thing. But hey, baby steps.


    Now, she was looking at me. ¡°I mean, better to look weird and paranoid than to actually be exposed, right? And better to look like you¡¯re being a little rude to Caishen and them than to accidentally tell your parents exactly who you are. You can¡¯t take something like that back.¡±


    ¡°No do-overs,¡± I agreed grimly. ¡°The second my parents even start looking at me suspiciously¡­¡± I swallowed hard then, shaking my head. ¡°You¡¯re right, but I can¡¯t just totally turn them down. I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯d attract some questions too. Especially now that I agreed to it. Besides, Skip helped save my life.¡± And I really didn¡¯t want her to be part of the Ministry, though I didn¡¯t add that part out loud. From the look Izzy gave me, I didn¡¯t need to.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful,¡± I finally promised. ¡°No confiding in them, no exposing my face or anything just in case. Even with their ¡®privacy measures.¡¯ I can push the visor up and raise the mask enough to eat.¡±


    ¡°New question,¡± Izzy put in then, ¡°where are you gonna tell your parents you¡¯re eating?¡±


    Considering that, I hesitantly started with, ¡°Tonight¡¯s not family dinner, so it won¡¯t be total war for me not being there. I can come up with an excuse about eating out with friends or something, shouldn¡¯t be a big deal. Mom¡¯s pretty cool about that kind of thing as long as we show up when we¡¯re supposed to.¡± Glancing toward the other girl, I added, ¡°But are you gonna be okay there?¡±


    ¡°You mean am I gonna be okay being there alone without you after everything you said?¡± With that, Izzy swallowed hard, seeming to shrink in on herself a bit. Her voice was smaller. ¡°Yeah. I can keep it together.¡± She took a breath, focusing on me. ¡°You can trust me, Cassidy. I won¡¯t fuck up and expose you, or any of it. It¡¯s okay. I mean, it¡¯s not really okay, but¡­ yeah.¡±


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± I assured her. ¡°And I trust you. But there¡¯s a difference between trusting someone and knowing that something is a lot to deal with. So believe me, if you have to walk away from dinner, just tell them it¡¯s been a long day. I mean, brand new school and all that, after everything that happ¨C you know, now that I say it out loud, you probably don¡¯t need to fake anything. How are you doing with all that? The more mundane stuff, I mean. This place.¡±


    Following my glance toward the school behind her, Izzy offered me a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I didn¡¯t really talk to a lot of people or anything. I mean, it¡¯s April. School¡¯s out in a couple months. Everybody¡¯s already got their friends and their everything. Plus, I¡¯m not umm¡­¡± She hesitated, biting her lip. ¡°I¡¯m not really rich or anything. Everyone in there knows I¡¯m just this poor nobody on a free ride.¡±


    Blinking at that, I scooted over on the bench and put an arm around the girl, squeezing her close to me. ¡°You listen to me. First, you are not a nobody. You do more important things in one day than most of those kids have done all year. You¡¯re a fucking superhero, Izz. And free ride? You do know those kids were born rich, right? Just like me. You think I did anything to earn the money my family has? Neither did they. If anyone, anyone¡¯s going to that school on a free ride, it¡¯s them. They¡¯re like me. They got handed everything they ever wanted, pretty much. What the hell did they do to deserve a spot at that school, be born? That¡¯s luck, not achievement. Everything you¡¯ve got, you earned. You worked for it. You deserve every bit of success and help you get, and anyone who tries to say you don¡¯t can go fuck themselves, okay?¡±


    With a tiny smile, Izzy shook her head while leaning against me a bit while teasing, ¡°That was really poetic. Go fuck themselves, I should write that down.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight you should,¡± I agreed, poking her side with my free arm. ¡°Izzy, I¡¯m the most privileged rich kid you¡¯re ever gonna see. Seriously, think about it. My parents are billionaires and they control both the crime and the police in the city. Most of it, anyway. The point is, you can¡¯t get much more privileged than me. So, speaking as the¡­ Princess of all Privileged Fucks, never let anyone tell you that you don¡¯t deserve to be in that school.¡±


    Before Izzy could respond to that, Jefferson pulled up. He didn¡¯t honk or anything, because he expected us to be ready to go. With a quick glance toward one another, the two of us hopped up and headed to the car. On the way, Izzy murmured quietly, ¡°Thanks, Cassie.¡±


    Then we got in and headed for home. And I spent the next few minutes wondering how this whole dinner at Ten Towers was going to go. Not to mention the Paige thing, which was an ever-present thought at the back of my mind. I still had to decide if Eits was the best person to trust with that. Or even the only person, cuz really, who else was I going to ask who was more trustworthy? Maybe a Star-Touched from another city, but then we¡¯d have to take Paige there and explain¡­ well, maybe that would work? Find some doctor and tech person as far from Detroit as possible, hide Paige¡¯s actual identity, and take her to them?


    Boy, I was really grasping at straws, wasn¡¯t I? Where the hell was I going to find someone willing to do all that work on Paige without knowing anything about her? If nothing else, anyone with the skill to help her was definitely going to have the skill to know there was a lot going on with her. So they¡¯d probably have a lot of questions. Questions I couldn¡¯t answer.


    Then again, I couldn¡¯t answer questions from Eits either. And even if I did trust him, we still needed to have someone who could open the body up to get to¨Cargh. It was a lot. I kept thinking a good answer to this whole situation would just pop into my head or something, but thus far I was getting nowhere. My only real comfort was that Paige would be okay. She was basically in a coma or whatever, just like¡­ sleeping. So until we actually found a way to fix the girl and bring her back, she¡¯d be fine the way she was, right?


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Yeah, that was something. But still, this was a lot to deal with. Plus there was the whole situation with the Ministry base under the mall that we still had to find a way to break into, and¨Cyeah, I had a lot to deal with. Nothing new there.


    But hey, at least I might get a decent dinner and some interaction with Lightning Bug out of this one?


    *******


    A couple hours later, I was on my way. Well, sort of. There was another stop that I had to make before heading over to Ten Towers. I¡¯d taken some time to draw up some more pictures for the son of that guard guy at the Seraphs, Matt Orens and I wanted him to sign off on them. I hadn¡¯t put them together into a full book yet or anything, but they were still some nice drawings.


    Seriously, it might not have been on the same level of amazing as hurling myself from roof to roof throughout the city, but being able to draw this well just by thinking about it was still pretty damn cool. It was a more mundane cool, and yet also one I could actually share with people as myself if I was careful. Amber and Jae already knew, for one, and they didn¡¯t think it was weird.


    It was just neat to be able to picture something in my head and then make a perfect real picture on paper. Whether I did it with my paint or by literally drawing it, the pictures looked amazing. Like my imagination jumped out of my head and reproduced itself on the page.


    Orens wasn¡¯t out there by the gate when I stopped by, but he was on duty and they said he¡¯d come around. While I was waiting, Patchwork strolled out, shouting over her shoulder that she was going for food and if anyone felt like dying in the time she was gone, they better do it without fucking calling her. When she saw me, the woman stopped, looking at me through that green visor that matched her spiky hair. ¡°Stopped by to do more work, kid?¡±


    ¡°Uh, not exactly.¡± I shook my head. ¡°But I¡¯ll be back, promise. As soon as possible. Uh, tonight maybe. Yeah, tonight if I can swing it. Things just got¡­ crazy.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve got a way of doing that,¡± she drawled. ¡°Just be glad you ain¡¯t a healer. That¡¯s a good way of¨C¡± She turned a bit, half-shouting over her shoulder, ¡°Never getting a goddamn minute to yourself, motherfuckers!¡± Then she pivoted right back to me. ¡°Anyway, just make sure you show up and do some work soon, before Hallowed or any of the bigwigs get antsy. Plus,¡± she added slyly, ¡°your dad misses you.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God.¡± Hanging my head while fighting back a fit of giggles, I eventually managed a weak, ¡°Is that still going on?¡±


    ¡°Stronger than ever,¡± she informed me, sounding far more cheerful. ¡°Especially since some completely terrible person or persons have been fanning the flames with pictures of you visiting the place and talking to him.¡±


    Squinting at her through the helmet, I was about to ask if she was that terrible person. But I was interrupted by a very small voice hesitantly speaking up. ¡°Um¨Cahh, excuse me.¡±


    I blinked, looking toward Patchwork, then around behind me, then to the nearby guard, then back to Patchwork. She was pointing down, and I glanced that way to see a tiny mouse, a bit away from my foot. This was no ordinary mouse, though. She wore gold armor covering most of her body save for the head, with what looked like a tiny, also metal backpack of some kind. A pair of what looked like bluetooth earbuds were attached to either side of the mouse¡¯s body just behind her head, which was where the voice was coming from. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry to ahh¡­ umm, interrupt.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± I blurted, taken aback. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I mean¨Cwait, you¡¯re¡­ Lion.¡± I wasn¡¯t dumb, of course she was a mouse. But her name was Lion. She was a fairly well-known Toni (TOuched Nonhuman Individual), but she didn¡¯t live or work here in Detroit. Lion was based in Seattle. And she took ¡®based¡¯ to another level, because her whole thing was designing incredibly elaborate and powerful defensive structures. She made bunkers, basically. Bunkers, prisons, I¡¯d heard she¡¯d had a big hand in helping to design upgrades for Breakwater, actually. The point was, she was really good at creating defenses.


    The mouse¡¯s tiny head bobbed up and down. ¡°Yes, sir, that¡¯s ahhh, that¡¯s my name. It¡¯s a umm, pleasure to umm, finally meet. I mean pleasure for me to meet you, I don¡¯t ahhh, know if it¡¯s a pleasure to meet me, I wouldn¡¯t want to umm, speak for you or anything.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± I assured her while crouching to be closer. ¡°It¡¯s definitely a pleasure. But what are you doing here in Detroit? You¡¯re not moving here, are you?¡± Immediately, I regretted the phrasing, amending, ¡°I mean, everything I¡¯ve seen says Seattle loves you.¡±


    Sitting back on her haunches, Lion peered up at me while shaking her little head. ¡°Oh, ahh, no. No, I still live in Seattle. It¡¯s my ahh¡­ it¡¯s my home.¡± I was pretty sure I could see her gulp repeatedly before the tiny speakers behind her head continued. ¡°I¡¯m just visiting my ahh¡­ my friend Lucent, to consult on something.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well, cool. Hope you work it out with dear old pops,¡± I couldn¡¯t help but say.


    There was a brief pause from Lion, before I heard a sound that I belatedly realized was a giggle from the little mouse. She seemed to relax just a little, though from her voice was still obviously on-edge. From what I¡¯d heard, that was basically how she always was. The mouse whose entire power revolved around creating incredible defenses was basically eternally nervous.


    And who could blame her? She was tiny. She had plenty of reason to be anxious within a perfectly normal, mundane world, let alone before you added in superpowers and villains and all that.


    ¡°It¡¯s ahh, it¡¯s going well, I think,¡± her quiet and uncertain voice piped up. ¡°But I saw you out here and just wanted to say hi. And ahh, and ask if you were okay with the umm, the¡­ joke that¡¯s going on. But you seem okay, because you made the same joke.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I¡¯m fine with it,¡± I assured her immediately. I avoided adding that my father secretly being Lucent would, in several ways, be better than the alternative. Which was a thought that I immediately regretted for the rush of conflicting feelings of guilt that flooded in. But I pushed all that back, adding, ¡°He seems like a pretty great guy¨Cerr bird. Guy bird? Guy still works, right?¡±


    ¡°Works for the rest of us,¡± Patchwork put in. ¡°Hey Lion, you wanna help me pick up some grub? Pretty sure you and Lucent have been down in your hole playing techy games all day without basic necessities.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the tiny mouse seemed to regard the much larger woman for a moment, before she agreed with a thoughtful, ¡°I¡­ am rather hungry, ahh, I suppose. But are¨Care we being rude?¡± Her voice was suddenly worried as she looked back to me, nose sniffing frantically.


    Quickly, I shook my head. ¡°Thanks, I¡¯m good. I have dinner plans already. Over at Ten Towers, actually.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Tell bug-kid hi for me,¡± Patchwork replied before holding out a hand. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Nala.¡±


    She didn¡¯t reach all the way down to pick the mouse up. Instead, the little backpack attached to Lion¡¯s armor opened up, and a thin metal bar, about as long as a pencil, poked out. The top of it started to glow, and what looked like an arm made of solid energy appeared. Not a little arm either, this was a full sized human arm with a hand attached. The glowing energy hand grasped Patchwork¡¯s, then retracted to pull Lion all the way up so the woman could catch her with her free hand and put the mouse on her shoulder.


    From her perch there, the TONI waved with her big energy-form hand. Her voice squeaked, ¡°Goodbye, Paintball. I¡­ I hope we can talk again.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± I quickly agreed, then thought quickly. ¡°But umm, hey, could I ask you something, actually?¡± My mind was racing with an idea of how to get into this without giving everything away.


    The mouse tilted her head, watching me curiously and expectantly until I went on. ¡°Um, I have this friend who helps me with a bit of Touched-Tech stuff, but they wanna stay super-anonymous. So they were wondering if there was a way to like¡­ if there was an established method of hiring Touched-Techs where both sides stay private.¡±


    Yeah, hiding my actual question about whether there was a way for me to anonymously hire a Tech-Touched behind asking if there was a way for my Tech-Touched friend to anonymously hire herself out wasn¡¯t exactly perfect, but it was the best I could think of on the spot.


    ¡°He means without getting Glitch and her Braintrust on their ass,¡± Patchwork translated for me.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Lion gave a quick nod. ¡°Um, well, yes there is. If umm, if you go to the Sphere forum, search for threads with the title ¡®Looking For A Carpenter¡¯, find the most recent, and post a message there under any account, you¡¯ll get a private message to set something up. The ahhh, umm, the first message will ask if you know a friend in metalworking and you say you know a sculptor. Then you¡¯ll be able to ask about anything you want for your friend. It¡¯s all very quiet.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d use that or not, but it was something. And hopefully hiding it behind the Trevithick thing had covered me well enough.


    Seeing her glowing forcefield-like hand still there, I gave Lion a high-five, then waved before turning as Orens made his way out. I¡¯d think about that whole forum thing later. For now, I had to talk to this guy, then head out. Considering how late it was getting, I was pretty sure it would be time to go visit Ten Towers once I was done with this bit.


    Honestly, I couldn¡¯t wait to see Lightning Bug again, after that first brief visit. She was a fun kid.


    And hey, at least I didn¡¯t have to worry about any more problems showing up while I was in the middle of one of the strongest compounds in the city and surrounded by Star-Touched and armed soldiers.

 Trust 15-09

    They were expecting me at Ten Towers, of course. Tours of the place had shut down for the day by then, but the guards at the gates to the complex were ready. As soon as I showed up, two of the uniformed men greeted me before sending for my guide. While we were waiting, one of the men asked if it was true that I was making a picture book for ¡®that Orens guy over at Seraphs.¡¯ When I confirmed it, he quickly said his own daughter would love something like that too and asked if he could give me his phone number to call when I was done with the first one. Of course, I agreed, and soon had a paper with his number stuffed deep in my zipped-up pocket.


    A moment after that, while I was still reeling from the thought that all these people apparently wanted me to draw pictures for them, the sound of footsteps drew my attention. My guide was approaching, and I immediately recognized him. It was Richard Mornes, the same guy that had shown me around before. He wasn¡¯t wearing the exact same clothes, but it was the same style and easy to pick out. Before, he¡¯d had a white suit over a black hawaiian shirt with red and pink flowers. Today, it was a light purple suit with an open jacket over a bright pink shirt. He wore the same dark pink Aviator shades and comfortable tennis shoes. He definitely stood out from the dark-suited guards that were standing nearby or patrolling the grounds. They almost could¡¯ve been clones. Or, come to think of it, biolems. Which was a thought that made me shudder.


    ¡°Paintball!¡± Richard greeted, extending a hand. ¡°Glad to see you again. It¡¯s been too long.¡±


    Accepting his hand, I replied, ¡°Mr. Mornes, I see they still haven¡¯t adopted your fashion sense.¡±


    The man chuckled while giving my hand a shake. At the same time, he pointed at me with the other one. ¡°I¡¯m wearing them down on that one, believe me. And please, call me Richard.¡±


    ¡°In that case, you can call me¡­¡± I trailed off, head tilting to the side as I made a show of thinking quickly. ¡°Uhhh, Paintball, I guess.¡± Coughing, I shrugged. ¡°Sorry. But hey, I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re still here. Shouldn¡¯t you be home by now? You¡¯d think the vice president of outreach would have plenty of lackeys he could make stay around to escort me to wherever dinner¡¯s supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°Believe me,¡± Richard promised, ¡°I have no shortage of lackeys. One of the perks of the position. But another perk is getting to choose the things you do want to do. Err, to an extent, anyway. And I definitely wanted to be involved with this one.¡± He offered me a smile, taking his sunglasses off to tuck them away. ¡°You¡¯re a pretty intriguing figure, you know that? I mean, you were already, but the way you¡¯ve been going¡­ a lot of people already look up to you. Saving the girl in that car chase was pretty damn impressive. And showing up to help at the theater? You¡¯ve got some of the teams angling to find a way to recruit you, Minority or no Minority.¡±


    Feeling myself flush a bit under the mask and helmet, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. Seriously, it¡¯s really not. And um, that whole ¡®finding a way to recruit me¡¯ includes you, I take it?¡±


    With a chuckle, the man turned, gesturing for me to accompany him. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll get you up to the residence. And yeah, of course I¡¯d love to have a young, hotshot Star-Touched with a long career ahead of him sign up for the Towers. Trust me, kid, you¡¯d be an amazing get. Everyone knows you turned down the Minority, yet you keep working with them. It adds an air of mystery. You¡¯re great on-camera, the public has fun watching you, and you¡¯re not dark and edgy. You have any idea how many grim and gritty assholes there are who think the way to popularity is lurking in shadows and growling at people like they¡¯ve got a mouthful of glass or something?¡±


    Wincing, I shook my head. ¡°Sorry you¡¯ve gotta deal with all that. But I¡¯m still not interested in joining any team.¡± Especially not now that I¡¯d worked through in my head just how likely it was that Ten Towers was in some way, either directly or indirectly, controlled by my parents.


    If he was offended or upset or anything, Richard didn¡¯t show it at all. Of course, he probably had a lot of experience with disguising that sort of thing. He simply smiled as we approached the door of the same building from before. The doors opened automatically to let us through. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, I¡¯ll find a way to make you an offer you like. Might take awhile. Might take a year or two, but¡­ just promise me if you do decide to join up with some people, you give me a chance to show you what we can provide? I¡¯d hate to make the board think I¡¯m not doing my job.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll totally vouch that you¡¯re definitely doing outreach,¡± I assured the man. ¡°And yeah, if I change my mind about the team-joining thing, I¡¯ll give you a chance to woo me.¡± God, it felt weird to say that. The whole idea that there were multiple groups angling to get me to sign on the metaphorical line was strange. And, given what I knew about my family, a bit uncomfortable.


    But, I pushed all that aside and followed Mornes onto the elevator. He used a key to unlock a panel next to the regular buttons. Behind that panel was what looked like a small camera. It projected a green laser light thing that ran over the man¡¯s face as he spoke. ¡°Richard Mornes. One guest. Starlight.¡± To me, he added, ¡°Please stand as still as possible.¡±


    After scanning the man himself, the green light moved over me. It scanned me from head to toe before flickering off. Then the elevator began to rise smoothly.


    ¡°Starlight?¡± I asked, glancing at him curiously. ¡°That¡¯s not some kind of nickname for me, is it?¡±


    With a chuckle, Mornes shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We just have a special password to let the computer know we¡¯re not acting under duress. It changes a few times a day. Makes a couple of the bigwigs who can¡¯t remember anything crazy when they get locked in until someone comes to check on them, but you know. Better safe than sorry. Especially in this line of work.¡±


    It made sense, of course. Dad had taken me on tours of places that had similar, or even stricter security measures. A lot of those people tended to squint at me until they found out who my father was, then they were suddenly a lot more accommodating. Which, now that I thought about it, made me even more uncomfortable. It was¡­ yeah. Yeah, it was a whole thing I didn¡¯t want to think about right then. Or anytime, really. But especially not right then. I was just going to shove all of that out of my mind and focus on what I was doing here.


    To that end, I quickly piped up with, ¡°So Caishen and her family really just live on the grounds?¡±


    ¡°All the Ten Towers Touched do,¡± he informed me. ¡°Most live in the apartments belowground. Don¡¯t take that the wrong way though. Those apartments are pretty damn spiffy. And safe. But yeah, Caishen, Skip, and Lightning Bug live up here in one of the penthouses. There¡¯s a few for the board members and other VIPs when they show up, but the main one in this building is for the Star-Touched boss lady and her family.¡±


    Right, yeah, there were other Star-Touched who worked for Ten Towers here in town beyond just Caishen and her family. A lot of them tended to be focused on protecting corporate interests rather than patrolling in the city the way the Conservators, Minority, and Spartans did. Well, they did help out in the city, of course. When Fells attacked places or caused trouble nearby, the Ten Towers people would jump in and help deal with the situation. They just didn¡¯t tend to actively patrol for the most part. Kind of like the Seraphs, come to think of it.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    By that point, we had arrived. The doors of the elevator slid open soundlessly, revealing a wide, long corridor beyond. The floor was made of white polished marble, while the entire wall opposite the elevator was a floor to ceiling window looking out over the grounds of Ten Towers and the city beyond.


    ¡°Impressive view, huh?¡± With a little smile at his own words, Mornes stepped out of the elevator with me, gesturing. ¡°Go ahead, take a look.¡±


    Resisting the urge to reply that my father¡¯s office in the city had a better view, I stepped out to join him and stared out across the scene below. Identity-revealing jokes aside, it was a really nice view. I could see why he was proud of it. Across the way I could see the other two skyscrapers that had formed the original Three Towers Plaza. With the way the grounds themselves were lit up and the rest of the city stretched out beyond¡­ yeah. He definitely had plenty to be proud of. And I was going to do my level best to ignore my questions of exactly how connected this place was with the Ministry. Because those kinds of questions might just interfere with my enjoyment of dinner tonight.


    Before I could actually say anything else, what appeared to be the sound of several people running filled the air. Except, as I pivoted that way reflexively, it turned out not to be several people at all. It was one thing. One giant, neon-green beetle with a small figure perched on its hardshell back. The sound I¡¯d heard was the beetle¡¯s multiple feet all hitting the floor in a rapid rush as it came running for me.


    ¡°Snugglebug, stop!¡± the beetle¡¯s rider blurted, making it suddenly halt just a few feet from me. Which gave me a chance to see said rider a bit better. It was, of course, Lightning Bug herself. The five-year-old looked the same as the last time I¡¯d seen her, with that red skin, shockingly white hair that hung loose and wild around her face, and compound eyes that were both incredibly bright blue and also about twice as big as average human eyes. Oh, and the insect-like wings that sprouted from her back. Wings that made me think of Wren¡¯s flight pack, though these were natural.


    With a squeak as she realized how close they were, the kid slipped backwards off her mount and half-crouched behind him. All I could see was the top of her big eyes and a bit of her hair as she peeked over the shell to stare at me.


    Exchanging a brief look with Mornes, I offered the girl a smile. Then I remembered that was idiotic because she couldn¡¯t see my face. Whoops. Quickly, I spoke aloud. ¡°Hey there, ahh you like to be called LB, right?¡±


    There was a brief pause before the hesitant response came. ¡°Or Bug. Bug is okay too, Mr. Ball.¡±


    ¡°In that case, you can just call me Ball,¡± I assured her. ¡°And that¡¯s Snugglebug. Is it okay if I come closer?¡± I really didn¡¯t want to freak the beetle out if he was in protective mode with Lightning Bug suddenly being nervous and shy.


    Again, there was a brief pause, before Lightning Bug slowly stepped out from behind the beetle. Her wings fluttered uncertainly while she gave a short nod. ¡°Uh huh. Y-you can come say hi if you want to. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s what Snugglebug wanted. He wasn¡¯t tryin¡¯ tah¡­ attack you or anything.¡± Her foot kicked nervously at the floor as she squirmed.


    Stepping that way, I took a knee in front of the beetle. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I know. Hi there, buddy. You remember me, right?¡± Staying still, I let the pony-sized bug lean closer, its antennae working over the front of my helmet. Snugglebug made a sort of chittering noise, his enormous green mandibles looking like they could chomp right through my arm if he wanted to. But he didn¡¯t. Mostly he looked like an oversized, armored puppy pleading for attention.


    Carefully reaching out, I ran my hand over the beetle¡¯s outstretched leg, feeling the hard exoskeleton. ¡°Yeah, you remember me. I made you pretty. You¡¯re a great boy, huh?¡±


    By that point, Lightning Bug had stepped the rest of the way around to nervously stand next to her buddy¡¯s head, one hand on the shell. ¡°He liked being pretty,¡± she offered hesitantly, voice quiet while shifting back and forth on her feet. ¡°A-and we wanted tah give you¡­ this.¡±


    I looked up to see the red-skinned girl nervously holding out a brown paper bag. There was a smiley face drawn on the front. Actually, four smiley faces. One was a normal human circle face, another had antennae poking out the top, the third had crudely drawn praying mantis claws and big bulbous eyes, and the last one had big eyes too, along with wings sticking out behind it.


    ¡°Oooh,¡± I took the bag, turning it to point at each of them in turn. ¡°So this is you, right Bug? And this one here is Snuggle. This one with the pincers is Simminin. And who¡¯s this right here?¡±


    The kid hesitated before moving her finger to point to the last picture while replying, ¡°Kenobee.¡±


    ¡°Kenobee?¡± I echoed. ¡°Wait, is that a joke about¨C¡±


    Then I heard it. A loud buzzing sound filled the air, and I turned to see¡­ well, a giant bee. But not just any ordinary bee, even discounting its size (the thing was as big as a large housecat). It was also bright metallic purple, a gorgeous coloration that made me gasp.


    As the bee flew, Bug held out her arms and it basically fell right into them, allowing the girl to hug the insect against her chest. It looked basically like a little kid holding a cat that was almost too big for her to do so. ¡°Kenobee!¡± She announced happily. ¡°See, he¡¯s already pretty!¡±  Quickly, as though afraid she had offended me, the girl added, ¡°But he¡¯d like tah be even more pretty.¡±


    ¡°Aww, well we¡¯ll have to see what we can do about that.¡± Carefully, to avoid startling the insect, I reached out and rubbed over the fuzzy shell while his head tilted to consider me. ¡°Hey, buddy. How¡¯d you get to be so pretty all by yourself?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a orchard bee!¡± Lightning Bug informed me brightly, clearly incredibly proud of her (sort of) little friend.


    ¡°Orchid Bee,¡± Mornes gently and quietly informed me with a small smile. ¡°The third and newest of Miss LB¡¯s companions.¡±


    Gently petting the insect, I made a bright white and pink flower appear on the back of his purple shell (using the white to allow the pink to stand out). ¡°Well you are definitely a handsome guy.¡±


    ¡°Flower!¡± Bug chirped happily, turning the bee in her arms a bit to see better. ¡°See, Kenny? I knew Mr. Ball could make you more pretty!¡± With that, she clutched the bee even tighter before holding him out. ¡°Could¡­ could he give you a hug?¡±


    Well, how would I ever say no to that? Gently taking the offered insect, I hugged him as best as I could while the kid watched with delight. Once Kenobee started squirming, wings pushing against my arms, I released him and let the bee hover up into the air between us.


    Of course, giving one insect some paint meant I couldn¡¯t exactly ignore the other one. Especially when Snugglebug started bumping against my side, managing to look almost anxious despite being, well, a huge bug. So, I gave him (my version of) a rainbow across his shell along with some various colored stars. He seemed happy with that (probably because Lightning Bug was happy with it), and we started down the hall toward the actual penthouse, passing a few other doors that apparently led into the apartments of other VIPs.


    On the way, I asked, ¡°Speaking of Simminin, where is she?¡±


    ¡°Protecting Mommy,¡± Bug piped up immediately and solemnly, head bobbing as she sat on Snugglebug, who was walking alongside me. Kenobee was flying nearby, clearly quite interested in Mornes¡¯ bright pink shirt. ¡°And helping.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re in here,¡± Mornes informed me, gesturing to the door of the penthouse ahead of us. ¡°Simminin likes to help in the kitchen when Caishen cooks.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure what the protecting Mommy bit was about. Hopefully it was just a little kid not wanting to leave her mother alone and not something actually dangerous she had picked up on. Either way, I nodded. ¡°Right, well I can¡¯t wait to see what¡¯s for dinner. Are you coming in?¡±


    Mornes shook his head. ¡°Nope, I¡¯m just your escort to the door tonight. Go right ahead, they¡¯re expecting you. I should go make sure the other guests are on their way.¡±


    ¡°Bye, Mr. Mornes!¡± Lightning Bug called while excitedly pushing the door open to rush in, followed by her two insects. Within, I heard her excitedly babbling to her mother about ¡®Mr. Ball¡¯ showing up and making her friends pretty again.


    Before going through, I glanced toward the man who had brought me up here. ¡°Thanks again. Hope you can go home and take a break now.¡±


    The man¡¯s expression was mostly hidden behind his large colored aviators as he offered me a simple, basically humorless smile. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s getting much of a break while this gang war keeps escalating. But I¡¯ll do my best. Enjoy your dinner, kid.¡±


    He headed off then, while I took a deep breath and faced the open door. Well, time to see how this dinner thing was gonna pan out.


    But before I could step in, a voice called out from behind me, near the elevator. ¡°Are we late?¡±


    I knew that voice.


    I knew it incredibly well.


    My heart had already stopped, but my body was still turning. My head was still twisting. My gaze was still rising.


    ¡°Oh good, we made it,¡± my dad spoke as he and Mom approached together.


    ¡°This is one dinner I definitely didn¡¯t want to miss.¡±

 Non-Canon 4 - Cassidy Died

    A witness. A fucking witness. How had that happened? Simon Evans had been certain that the area around this building had been cleared. And yet, there they were. Some guy in a hoodie staring as Simon and his people took care of a little problem. And now they were running away.


    He wasn¡¯t worried about being identified, not with his mother¡¯s power keeping his identity secret. But the witness was still a problem, which he made perfectly clear by shouting at the idiots to get him before the guy could get away and become an even bigger issue by calling the cops. Fuck, tonight was supposed to be simple. Deal with a little problem that had popped up, erase that problem, then go home and not think about what a shit week this had been for a little while.


    But thank fuck, one thing went right. As the hooded figure started to move through the window at the end of the hallway, Stanton produced his own pistol and took a shot. And, miracle of fucking miracles, the bullet hit home, nailing the would-be witness right in the middle of the back and sending him pitching forward out the window to crash all the way down to the pavement below. As Simon ran to look out the window, he saw the still form lying on the ground.


    ¡°At least you shot straight for once,¡± he muttered, clapping Stanton on the shoulder before gesturing. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get the body out of sight before someone else shows up.¡± Because that was just his luck tonight. For all he knew, they¡¯d get down there and find three cop cars and an ambulance who just happened to be passing by out of sheer coincidence and saw the body.


    Clambering out to the fire escape, he climbed down quickly while keeping a sharp eye out for anyone who might¡¯ve noticed anything. It wasn¡¯t likely, given the hour and place they were in. But then, having this witness show up in the first fucking place hadn¡¯t been likely either.


    Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Simon hopped off. He glanced around carefully, watching for any more problems before he approached the fallen body. ¡°Okay, dipshit,¡± the boy muttered while crouching to put a glove-covered hand on the motionless shoulder as he avoided the blood, ¡°let¡¯s see what we¡¯re dealing wi--¡±


    As he spoke, Simon was turning the body over carefully. And in mid-sentence, the face came into view. The face of the person who had witnessed that little execution back there. The face of the person who had nearly escaped before Stanton shot them. The face of the now-dead witness. The face¡­ the face of¡­ of¡­


    *******


    ¡°But Mom, why does she have to go to my school?!¡± Currently a ten-year-old fifth grader, Simon stood with his arms crossed, staring stubbornly at his mother. ¡°She¡¯s so annoying! And she never leaves me alone. She¡¯s gonna come bother me in class and everyone¡¯s gonna laugh!¡±


    With a small smile, his mother shook her head while putting both hands on his shoulders and squeezing. ¡°Simon, sweetie, I promise she¡¯s not going to come bother you in class. Cassidy has her own class to go to. They¡¯ll keep her there just like your teacher keeps you in yours.¡±


    Squinting up at her, Simon bluntly demanded, ¡°Have you met Cassidy? She¡¯ll wander out in five minutes. You know how sneaky she is. Come on, Mom, we¡¯re rich, can¡¯t she be home tutored?¡± His voice turned hopeful at the end while he gave his best puppy-eyes. ¡°She¡¯d like that too!¡±


    A slight chuckle escaped Elena Evans before she shook her head. ¡°Sorry, my precious Orsacchiotto.¡± Her hand moved from his shoulder to the side of his face as she used her favorite nickname for her firstborn child, a word meaning bear cub. He was her cub and she was his mama bear. ¡°You know how your father and I feel. You both need to go school, a real school. I promise it¡¯ll be okay. You¡¯ll go to your class and she¡¯ll go to hers. All you have to do is walk her from the car up to the front door and show her where to go. Then pick her up after class and walk her back out to the car.¡±


    Simon thought about protesting that his friends would laugh if he had to babysit a little girl, but realized it was a losing prospect and finally gave a slightly reluctant nod. ¡°I guess.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my cub,¡± Elena murmured, leaning in to kiss his forehead. ¡°Good boy. You¡¯ll take care of your little sister. You¡¯ll make sure she¡¯s safe.¡±


    *******


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± The next morning, Simon was standing in the doorway of his sister¡¯s bedroom, squinting at the lump hiding under the blanket. ¡°You said you wanted to go to school. You wouldn¡¯t shut up about it all summer. Come on, we¡¯re gonna be late!¡±


    There was a murmured response, but he couldn¡¯t understand, so the boy marched that way and pulled the blanket back. ¡°C¡¯mon, Cassie, stop being dumb! You can¡¯t be late for school, they get mad at you. You can¡¯t--¡± He stopped then, staring at the huddled lump curled in on herself. Belatedly, he realized why the lump was shaking.


    ¡°Are¡­ are you crying?¡±


    Unfolding herself, six-year-old Cassidy turned over and shoved him. Her face was streaked with tears as she blurted, ¡°Shut up, stupid! I--I--¡± She cringed, folding in on herself again as she hugged her stomach and shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna go.¡± The admission was barely audible, a whisper that was followed belatedly by, ¡°What if I¡¯m dumb?¡±


    The question made Simon blink, blurting, ¡°What?¡±


    Shrugging self-consciously, Cassidy murmured, ¡°What if I¡¯m dumb? What if they try to teach us things and I don¡¯t understand it? I don¡¯t know anything. What if they¡¯re like, ¡®haha, Cassidy Evans is stupid!¡¯ And what if I never understand anything? I don¡¯t know how to do math or spell very good or do science. What if they want us to do science, Simon? I can¡¯t do science!¡±


    With a sigh, Simon shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re in first grade, they¡¯re not gonna make you do science. They know you¡¯re just a--they know you¡¯re a kid, Cassie. It¡¯s your first day. Remember kindergarten? It¡¯s not that different from kindergarten.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot different from kindergarten,¡± Cassidy insisted in a mumbled, fearful voice. She had curled in on herself again, sitting up with her knees drawn to her chest. ¡°What if everyone else gets everything really easy and I don¡¯t? What if I can¡¯t do it?¡±


    After a brief pause, Simon exhaled and climbed up onto the bed to perch himself beside Cassidy, putting an arm around her. ¡°You¡¯re not dumb,¡± he informed the girl quietly. ¡°And the teacher isn¡¯t gonna make things too hard. You¡¯re gonna have a lot of fun, I promise. You¡¯ll be fine. You¡¯ll learn all that stuff. Math, spelling, science. Just a little bit at a time. I don¡¯t know very much either and I¡¯m a lot older than you. But I¡¯m still fine in school, right?¡±


    Turning her head slightly to look at him, Cassidy timidly asked, ¡°You really think it¡¯ll be okay?¡± Her voice was clearly still very skittish.


    Simon, in turn, nodded, tightening his one-armed grip to pull her closer. ¡°O¡¯course I do. I¡¯m the big brother so I know better than you. And if anyone makes fun of you, just--just tell me. I¡¯ll take care of it. I¡¯ll make sure they don¡¯t bother you again.¡±


    Biting her lip, the young girl hesitantly asked, ¡°You won¡¯t get mad if I talk to you at school?¡±


    With a long, heavy sigh, Simon considered before relenting. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s okay sometimes. If you really need help. But not all the time, okay? I¡¯ve got my own stuff, so you just--just talk if something¡¯s really wrong.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Cassidy agreed quietly. She turned a bit, embracing him with a soft, ¡°Thanks, Simon.¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± the boy tried to sound dismissive, even as his arms wrapped fully around her as well. He hugged the girl while praying no one happened to come by to see. ¡°Don¡¯t be dumb about it. You¡¯re my little sister.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Of course I¡¯m gonna protect you.¡±


    ********


    It was a quiet, private service. Despite the public interest in the death of one of the Evans children, despite the fact that the local news had spoken of little else in the past several days, there were very few people allowed within the church where the memorial was held. Only family and close friends were there, while police kept onlookers behind barricades a couple blocks away from the building and redirected traffic.


    The sun was bright, and there wasn¡¯t a cloud in the sky. Which felt wrong. There should be rain. It should¡¯ve been pouring. How dare the fucking weather not understand what it was supposed to be doing. But then, nothing about these past days had been right.


    Nothing had been right at all, since Simon had turned over that body and found¡­ her. His sister.


    He wasn¡¯t sitting with his parents through the service. He wasn¡¯t sitting at all. Instead, Simon stood at the back of the room, in a corner almost hidden out of sight. He could see his parents at the front of the room, only feet from the¡­ the casket. Once in awhile, his father would turn slightly to look back at him. But his mother never did. His mother never looked at him--hadn¡¯t looked at him since that night. After the trauma, the denial, the screaming, sobbing--after all of it, she had yet to look at him. Had yet to so much as glance in his direction. Which was fine. He knew what he would see if she had. He¡¯d see disgust, hatred, revulsion.


    And he hardly needed his mother¡¯s help to feel those things.


    He didn¡¯t stay for the whole service. Even as the priest started to blabber on about youth taken far too soon by the evils of the mortal world, Simon turned and stepped through the door. He walked away from it. Why would he stay there? What was the point? What was--what was the point of any of it? His parents would be upset that he didn¡¯t stay for the whole thing, but¡­ but who cared?


    Cassidy was dead because of him. His parents were never going to forget that. His mother would never forgive him, not now. He failed. He failed to protect her. She was gone and it was his fault. His fault his little sister was¡­


    Somehow, he¡¯d wandered into the small garden behind the church. No one else was there. The crowds were being kept several blocks away, and everyone else was inside. Finding himself alone, Simon slowly sank down onto the nearby stone bench. Raising both hands to his face, he felt his shoulders shake, palms growing steadily wet as they remained pressed against his eyes.


    Every conscious minute that had passed since the moment he turned the body over, Simon had sworn that he would surrender anything that was necessary, even his own soul, if it would bring his sister back. The tears that came as he sat there alone on the bench weren¡¯t for the mourners inside, for the media, or even for his own parents.


    The tears were for his sister. Everything he had done, everything he¡¯d become, and he¡¯d failed to protect her. Worse, he ordered her death. Not knowing it was her, not knowing--none of that mattered. It didn¡¯t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the body lying in there, in that room full of people--criminals. His parents, his family, their friends, everyone--ninety percent of the people in that room paying their respects--their respects? How fucking stupid was that line? Paying their respects? What the fuck did that even mean?


    He killed her. He killed his sister. No, he didn¡¯t pull the trigger. He didn¡¯t hold the gun. But he pointed it. He told the men to shoot her. He told them to kill her. His words--his orders, his--he--he was responsible. It was his fault. If he just--if he¡¯d just told them to grab the witness, if he¡¯d only tried to catch her instead of--instead of--


    Hands still pressed tight against his face, Simon¡¯s shoulders shook. His voice was a low, broken murmur that was muffled by his palms. ¡°Take it back. I take it back. Please. Please, I take it back.¡± Slipping from the bench to his knees, he fell forward, forehead pressed to the ground. Like water through partially-cupped hands, his fingers were no longer sufficient to stop the tears from staining the cement. The words of his plea had become indecipherable aside from the occasionally understood ¡®take it back¡¯.


    He hadn¡¯t known that the witness he¡¯d ordered shot was Cassidy, but he had known that they were someone. He¡¯d known they were a person, and yet he¡¯d ordered them shot. He¡¯d ordered them killed, just for seeing the wrong thing. He could have had her threatened, could have told his parents to call Jackson over to deal with it, could have bribed the fucking witness.


    He could have done a lot of things. But he didn¡¯t. He took the easiest way out and ordered his men to shoot. His men. He told them to shoot the witness, and now Cassidy was--she was dead. He didn¡¯t protect her. He killed her. As sure as if he¡¯d shot her himself, Simon had killed his sister.


    He didn¡¯t mean it. He wasn¡¯t trying to kill her, not her. And yet, did that matter? For perhaps the first real time in¡­ longer than he could remember, Simon thought about the actual victims. He didn¡¯t mean for Cassidy to die, of course not. But even if she wasn¡¯t there, even if the witness had been someone else, it would still mean that someone died. And that would mean that someone else would feel like this. Someone else would see the face of their sister, their son, their husband, their best friend whenever they closed their eyes. Someone else would feel this--this hole. Someone else would feel this hole inside them. A hole that would never be filled. It would just stay there, forever.


    How many holes had he given to other people? How many deaths was he responsible for? How much emptiness, grief, and rage had he birthed in others from his own choices? Not just accidents like this, but active choices? Everything he did, the people he hurt, the people he--all of it. How many others were out there with this sick, worthless feeling inside because of what he and his family did?


    How many lives had he destroyed? How much despair was he responsible for? How many families were broken because of the choices he made and the actions he took? How many people out there had felt like this because of him?


    And how could he live with himself knowing that the answer was far more than zero?


    There was no taking it back. He could never change what he did. Cassidy was gone. Cassidy would always be gone. Nothing Simon did would ever fix it. Being sorry was worthless. Grieving was worthless. It accomplished nothing.


    But Simon knew what would accomplish something. He knew what would change things, and change them really fucking fast.


    Eyes opening, the boy moved his hands, pressing them against the ground before pushing himself up. The tears were gone. The pain had settled into a firm knot in his stomach, yet even that seemed to have eased, as if telling him that this was the right choice. That sense of loss, of self-disgust and hatred was all there. Encouraging him, pushing him, guiding him.


    Rising to his feet, Simon took in a breath and let it out. He didn¡¯t know how to fix all the problems he had caused and couldn¡¯t take back the choices he¡¯d made. He didn¡¯t know how to take everyone¡¯s pain away. But he knew how to make sure he never contributed to it again.


    Cassie was dead. That was going to mean something. If it was the last fucking thing he did, Simon was going to make sure it meant something. He was going to end this. All of it.


    He would take everything he knew, every name, every identity, every crime, every secret he¡¯d been made privy to, every last single fucking detail of his family¡¯s organization. He¡¯d take all of that not to local media, not to the local law, all of which had been infiltrated, not to local anything. He would take his information, his evidence, his story and go much higher. He knew who was compromised, who was on the payroll. He knew who his parents had succeeded at turning and who was still a potential threat.


    He knew who could expose the Ministry and put him, his family, and their people where they all belonged. He would end this, end all of it, to make sure he was never responsible for another Cassidy. His family would never create another hole like this, another victim. He would end the Ministry.


    Simon couldn¡¯t save his sister. But he could save every future victim, every future casualty. He could make her death mean something. Not enough, never enough. He¡¯d trade everything, anything to bring her back. But he couldn¡¯t. This? This he could do. This was a choice he could make. He was going to tell the truth.


    The faintest sound of a foot scuffing the ground made Simon turn, pivoting soundlessly and quickly on one foot to find himself facing a girl he recognized from much closer than he¡¯d expected to see her.


    ¡°I know you,¡± the young man murmured. ¡°You¡¯re the Banners girl. Paige. Cassidy hated you.¡±


    Paige Banners, for her part, stared at him. There was a deep redness to her eyes that Simon knew was reflected in his own. Her voice was low. ¡°Your fault,¡± she said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s your fault.¡± Her next words were spat accusingly, knowingly. ¡°She¡¯s dead because of you.¡± With that, her fingers moved, and a knife slid down from her jacket into her grip.


    For a long moment, Simon was motionless. He stared at her, eyes meeting hers as he ignored the blade. They were alone here, alone in the privacy of this small garden. Finally, he spoke very quietly, his voice a simple question. ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    He was met with silence, seeing the same rage, despair, and grief in the girl¡¯s eyes that he himself felt. He saw her grip tighten on the knife, saw her muscles tense as doubt and uncertainty spelled its way across her face. Would she move? Would she speak? What did the next minute hold? What did the next second hold?


    With little warning, the moment came, and the grieving Paige made her choice.


    A/N- What was Paige¡¯s choice?! What happened next?! Did Paige lash out to attack Simon in her grief? If so, did he bother to fight back, feeling as he did? Or did Paige stop herself, recognizing the grief in his own eyes. Did they team up? Could they ever do such a thing, and how would that turn out? That, I¡¯m afraid, is up to each of you. Remember, this is a non-canon chapter. Whatever you want to assume happened next is what happened next. This non-canon line may be pursued in the future, and the people choosing that will have to decide which possible future they want to pursue. But that doesn¡¯t mean it has to be your chosen outcome. It¡¯s a world of infinite possibilities. What happens after this point? You decide.

 Trust 15-10

    I couldn¡¯t breathe. There was a loud, tinny sound flooding my ears, a whistle that seemed to get worse the longer I stared at my parents. For just a moment, I forgot I had the mask and helmet on and almost blurted, ¡®Dad, Mom?¡¯ only to stop myself at literally the very last possible instant. I had to bite my lip hard enough that I almost yelped. Which would¡¯ve been another thing to explain. For all I knew, that dull whine in the back of my head was actually audible, and coming from me. Wouldn¡¯t that be a fantastic demonstration of keeping my cool under pressure, by standing in front of my parents literally audibly whining in some mix of terror and anxiety. It was perfect, they¡¯d definitely never guess that I knew things I shouldn¡¯t then! My poker face was a steel vault!


    But apparently I was better at hiding my reaction than I thought, because my mother and father never hesitated. Slowing only once they neared, Dad extended a hand and offered me his trademark winning smile that had graced so many magazine covers. ¡°Hey there, it¡¯s Paintball, right? Nice to meet you. Sounds like you¡¯ve been making a real splash out there lately.¡±


    Oh God, he was still holding his hand out. What was I gonna do? What was I supposed to do?!


    You¡¯re supposed to shake his hand, idiot, I thought, snapping out of my shock just enough to raise my hand and accept his firm grip. Fuck, fuck, don¡¯t shake his hand like Cassidy would.


    Cassidy doesn¡¯t shake his hand, she¡¯s his daughter, you maroon. Just shake his hand normally!


    Shoving all those thoughts (and more) away and doing my best to focus, I moved to shake my own father¡¯s hand, only to freeze briefly as another rush of panic ran through me. What the fuck was I supposed to say to either of them? Were they using that illusion thing? Was I supposed to be seeing them as who they really were, or under some kind of disguise? If I greeted them as who they were, and they were using an illusion, that would¡­ yeah, that would be really bad.


    Fortunately, I was saved by Richard Mornes, whose departure had been interrupted by their arrival. With a chuckle, the man spoke up. ¡°Not sure how much attention the kid pays to old fogey rich folks. Or to money in general. He¡¯s got terrible financial sense.¡± With that, he stepped over, gesturing. ¡°Paintball, this is Sterling and Elena Evans.¡±


    Oh, thank God. At least that answered that. A weird rush of relief mixed with even more terror (it was still my parents and I had to pretend I didn¡¯t know them) washed through me while I took my dad¡¯s hand and managed a belated, ¡°Uh¨Cright, sorry, Mr. Evans. It¡¯s just, when my fortune teller said I¡¯d have dinner with someone incredibly rich this week, I was really hoping for Scrooge McDuck.¡±


    That was good, right? That was sort-of good? I was making a joke, just like Paintball would. Sure, it was a bit lame, but so were a lot of my jokes. At least I was trying. And I was a little distracted by all the my parents were standing right in front of me. The fact that I¡¯d actually managed to pull out a rich figure¡¯s name, even a fictional duck, was pretty much a miracle.


    Dad¡¯s grip was firm, though not painfully so. It was the handshake of a man who made hundred million dollar deals regularly, the handshake of someone who knew exactly how strong he was (both literally and figuratively) and didn¡¯t need to show off by crushing someone¡¯s hand or jerking them back and forth. He kept it up for just a moment, barely long enough to make the person (me, in this case) feel like they had his full attention and focus, like they mattered. Then he released and moved his other hand out to guide Mom forward by the shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Sterling, you¡¯ve earned far more than that. And as our friend Richard here said, this is my wife, Elena. Elena, this is the newest defender of our beautiful city.¡±


    Our beautiful city. The words taken by themselves might have been innocent, of course. People said them all the time. It just meant you lived there. It was ¡®your city.¡¯ And yet, coming specifically from my Dad, they meant something else. They were literal. This really was their city, in a way that probably hadn¡¯t been true in hundreds of years. This was the city of the Ministry, and they ran the Ministry. They owned it. They owned the cops, the media, the Star-Touched, the Fell-Touched, the courts, all of it. Not every last piece, of course. They didn¡¯t own literally every person. But they might as well have. They had control unlike anything in modern times. Detroit, and probably all of Michigan itself as an extension, was their kingdom.


    Mom was smiling beautifully at me. It almost made me whimper again. Seeing her, contrasting what I knew she felt for me and what I definitely felt for her against the thoughts I¡¯d just had about what sort of empire she and my father were running was completely screwing up my brain. I loved my mother and my father. But seeing them here, while I was dressed in my costume, was fucking with my head. It made it impossible for me to mentally separate them from the Ministry. Just as it was equally impossible for me to separate the Ministry from them. They were criminals, villains, people who let so many bad things happen in exchange for money and power. But they were my parents. They were my mom and dad. I loved them. I couldn¡¯t¨CI couldn¡¯t separate the people I loved from the crimes they were responsible for.


    Not that I¡¯d been very successful at doing that before (nor should I be given how important it was to remember what my parents were capable of), but this was hitting me hard in a way I hadn¡¯t expected. I wasn¡¯t prepared to face them like this, and I¡¯d had no time to brace myself. I¡¯d been completely and utterly blindsided by their presence here. It twisted the two worlds I¡¯d been trying to keep separate as much as I could for my own personal sanity. God, how was I going to get through the next few minutes like this, let alone an entire dinner? They¡¯d figure it out. They¡¯d realize something was wrong. They¡¯d know, they¡¯d pull something, they¡¯d summon help, they¡¯d¨C


    Mom spoke then, her voice rising over the steadily droning buzz in the back of my head as I fought back that rush of panic. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the news. You¡¯ve truly been a blessing for this city, young man. We¡¯re all quite proud.¡±


    My throat was dry. It felt like I was going to throw up. If I threw up in the mask and helmet, would I drown? Would that save me from having to deal with any of this shit? Why did that seem preferable right now? God damn it, what was wrong with me?


    Somehow, I forced the words to come past the hard, thick lump that had formed. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to do my best. Sometimes it helps.¡± I had to mentally kick myself not to say anything else. Keep it light, keep it simple. Don¡¯t babble. There was more chance of them figuring out who I was the more I talked. But I didn¡¯t want to say too little, because then they¡¯d know something was wrong. But¨Cyeah, it felt like I was screwed no matter what I did. And that left me practically petrified. Be cool, I kept trying to tell myself. Calm down, just be Paintball. You can do this. You can keep it under control. Please, please don¡¯t fuck this up.


    ¡°Oh, he helps a lot more than just sometimes.¡± That was Mornes, whom I had somehow forgotten was still there despite him speaking up only a few moments earlier to ¡®introduce¡¯ us. Him and Lightning Bug, who had emerged once more from the apartment with two of her insects to see what was going on. ¡°This guy here, he¡¯s a real hero. We¡¯re doing our best to make him realize he can do even more good with Ten Towers.¡± The way he said it was like a joke that wasn¡¯t really a joke. His hand patted my shoulder briefly as he added. ¡°Nice to see you again, Sterling, Elena. You both look wonderful tonight.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡°Thank you, Richard,¡± Mom (Damn it, think of her as Mrs. Evans or you¡¯ll fuck this up!) gracefully replied, granting the man a small, yet beautiful smile. How did she do that? How did she always manage to look so perfect, poised, and¡­ and gorgeous? And why was I such a clod next to her? Each of them, both my parents, always looked so perfect. Dad was handsome, with a movie-star smile and million dollar hair, while Mom was just¡­ just¡­ Mom. She was Elena Evans, gorgeous and graceful, like some kind of queen.


    Meanwhile, I was just¡­ Cassidy. The very best anyone could say about me was that I looked cute for a twelve-year-old boy.


    It was just slightly possible that running into my parents like this was seriously screwing with my head. With effort, I shoved all those thoughts into a box, forcing myself to focus.


    Mornes was still talking. ¡°And now, since you made it here without my intervention, I suppose it¡¯s time I headed out. Please, enjoy your dinner. I hear it¡¯s going to be delightful. See ya, kiddo.¡± That last was directed toward Lightning Bug, as he headed off toward the elevator. Leaving me with the younger girl, her bugs, and my parents. Abandoning me with my parents. Jerk.


    For a moment, I was saved then, as the kid herself scampered past me and ran to embrace my father. He knelt, hugging her tightly in a way that made those conflicted feelings of mine a hell of a lot more conflicted. God damn it, just seeing my dad hugging Bug, laughing as she showed her giant insects to him in a way that made it clear he knew them quite well (he even asked about Simminin by name), brought that thick knot of bile back to my throat. I felt cold. I felt itchy. I felt¨CI felt helpless. I couldn¡¯t do anything about this. And even if I could have, I didn¡¯t know what I would do. Fuck, this was all so complicated.


    It was obvious, so very obvious, that Mom and Dad had a good relationship with Bug. Where she had been fairly shy with me, particularly when we first met, there was no such reaction here. She laughed loudly, proudly babbling on about something her insect friends had done, and excitedly told them all about how ¡®Mr. Ball¡¯ made them pretty.


    Were they being nice to her because they cared about her, or because having someone with her power at full strength once she was older would be incredibly useful? That was the thought that I couldn¡¯t stop from worming its way into my head. Just like with Izzy. It made sense, didn¡¯t it? If they were going to stay in control and keep the kind of power they already had, or even expand it, they were going to need to jump on the next generation. Getting powerful Touched on their side right now, while they were young? That was basic-level common sense. But how much of how they were treating Bug right now, how much of how friendly they were, was from that?


    Fortunately, I was distracted from that dark pit of obsessive thought when a voice spoke up from the doorway. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t expect the rest of our guests to arrive at the same time.¡± The electronically-distorted voice came from Caishen, dressed in her full costume of dark gold pants with black lines down the sides that ran all the way to her matching black boots, and a dark purple scale mail-like shirt with a gold leather coat. Her usual black metal helmet with purple lenses where her eyes were hid the woman¡¯s face.


    She greeted me first, extending a hand to shake just like my father had while telling me how glad she was that I¡¯d accepted her sister¡¯s invitation. Then she held her arms out. With no further prompting, her daughter leapt from where she had been hugging my mother, beating her wings twice before landing in her own mother¡¯s grasp to embrace her.


    ¡°Mama!¡± Lightning Bug blurted happily, ¡°See? Mr. Ball came! Is he really gonna eat dinner with us?¡±


    ¡°Well, Bunny, I think you should ask him, shouldn¡¯t you?¡± Caishen prompted while shifting her grip to hold her daughter up a bit more comfortably.


    Suddenly turning a bit shy again, Bug turned to wrap both arms around her mother¡¯s neck fully, burying her face against the woman¡¯s shoulder. After a moment, she turned just enough for me to see one big, compound eye. ¡°Are you really gonna eat dinner with us, Mr. Ball?¡±


    Screaming no and then throwing myself out the nearest window was probably a bad idea, huh?


    Not only would it be slightly upsetting to the poor kid, I was pretty sure my parents might regard it as vaguely suspicious as far as ¡®does that guy actually know anything about us¡¯ went. No, I had to play dumb and cool, pretend any reactions I had were about being starstruck by the presence of super-rich people, and push on through this entire dinner. Sure, this would be fun. What a fantastic way to spend my evening, because I definitely hadn¡¯t been paranoid enough.


    My head was already nodding, as I tried to keep my voice as cool as possible. ¡°Sure, I mean, I kinda skipped out on dinner with my family already, so I better eat here while I¡¯ve got a chance.¡±


    ¡°Skipping out on dinner sounds dangerous.¡±


    It was a new voice. Yet not new. There was something familiar about it, and even as my head turned toward the doorway that Caishen had just come through, I realized why.


    Lincoln Chambers. It was him, the reporter guy from before. He stepped through, still looking more like a giant mountain man than someone who worked for a newspaper. Hell, the guy looked like he should be chopping down the trees that became the newspaper rather than writing on it.


    ¡°Mr. Chambers,¡± Dad greeted the guy, extending a hand that way as well. ¡°Glad to see you made it after all. And I hope your wife did as well?¡±


    With a nod, the big, heavily-bearded guy gestured over his shoulder. ¡°Oh yeah, we couldn¡¯t miss an invitation like this. Joselyn¡¯s inside with that ahhh, Skip. And was it¡­ Cinnamon?¡± He looked toward Bug, who was still hiding her face in her mother¡¯s shoulder but peeked out just long enough to nod before turning back again.


    Belatedly, I realized the guy was staring at me. And that he wasn¡¯t supposed to know me. So, I quickly blurted, ¡°Oh, uh, hi. I¡¯m Paintball. Nice to meet you, Mr¡­ uh¡­ it was Chambers, he said?¡± I gave a quick glance toward my father and back again. ¡°Are you ahh, new in town?¡±


    For a long moment, the man watched me. It almost looked like he was staring through me, like he could see through the helmet and mask. Like he could read my mind. His gaze bore into me, practically picking me apart without saying a single word. Yet, in the end, he simply extended a hand. ¡°Please, Lincoln¡¯s just fine. Just visiting from Los Angeles for a bit. Always nice to meet someone trying to do some good in the world. And, from what I hear, you¡¯ve been doing a lot of good.¡±


    My head tilted a little. ¡°You¡¯ve heard of me even in LA? That seems a little crazy.¡± Eyes widening behind the helmet, I stammered, ¡°I mean, not that you¡¯re crazy, or that LA isn¡¯t¨CI mean¨C¡±


    With a chuckle, Mr. Chambers shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, kid. Believe me, I get it. But yeah, I¡¯ve been up here interviewing some people for the Times and every time I ask about you, they¡¯ve got nothing but good things to say. Well, aside from the criminals. Most of them don¡¯t like you as much. But I¡¯d take that as a good thing, if I was you.¡±


    ¡°You interview criminals?¡± I asked a bit blankly.


    That earned me another light chuckle before the man nodded. ¡°I interview whoever will let me. Gotta be careful about a lot of that stuff, but sure. If you want the whole story, you¡¯ve gotta take a look at it from every angle. You have to consider every side.¡± There was a brief pause then before he looked over to my father. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Sterling?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Dad replied smoothly. ¡°But right now, I¡¯m afraid the only sides I¡¯m considering are those potatoes and broccoli I smell.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Joselyn¡¯s been helping them out in there,¡± Lincoln agreed. ¡°And banning me from the kitchen, just to make sure the whole place doesn¡¯t burn down. I think everything¡¯s about ready though.¡±


    Caishen gave a nod, gesturing. ¡°It sounds like everyone could do with getting this dinner started. In that case, won¡¯t you all please come inside?¡± She stepped out of the way then, still holding her daughter while gesturing for us to go ahead.


    Right, great, fantastic. I was about to have dinner with my parents and this reporter guy whom I already knew was really good at his job. And I had to do it all while pretending I didn¡¯t know any of them, especially my parents. Was this what I got for accepting these kinds of invitations?


    Fuck. Suppressing the worried sigh that tried to escape, I took a breath and then moved toward the door.


    Whatever happened next, this was definitely going to be a meal I would never forget.

 Trust 15-11

    So, we all started to head inside. But before I could go through the door, Mom turned my way. ¡°And do your parents know what you¡¯re¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly considering her words before amending, ¡°Do they know about all this?¡±


    Why? I wanted to ask. Do you want to know if you need to get their permission to turn me into one of your obedient little thugs? Is that something you¡¯d need to draw up a special parental permission slip for, or do you already have those for the other minors you¡¯ve probably twisted?


    I didn¡¯t say anything of the sort, of course. I wasn¡¯t nearly that stupid or suicidal. Tempting as it was just to see the look on her face, on both of their faces actually, I resisted the urge. Instead, staring right back at her, thankful that my face was hidden by two separate layers, I flatly replied, ¡°No, I¡¯m pretty sure my folks would be pretty surprised if they found out anything about this.¡±


    Yeah, they¡¯d be super-surprised alright. Especially if I took my helmet and mask off right now.  Which, yet again, was almost tempting just for the reaction it would spark. I really had to shove every thought of shocking my parents tonight out of my head before they got me in trouble.


    I saw the look of concern on Mom¡¯s face, her voice lowering a little. ¡°I know you don¡¯t need to be told to be careful, but¡­ you should think about letting your parents know what you¡¯re doing. I know it can seem like a bad idea, and I assume that¡¯s why you¡¯ve refused to join the Minority. Because you don¡¯t want them to know about this, and having a guardian who is aware of your position is a requirement to be a part of them. Maybe you¡¯re afraid they¡¯ll make you stop. But they¡¯re your family. They¡¯re your parents. They deserve to know if you¡¯re in trouble. If¡­ if anything happens to you and they find out like that, they¡¯ll probably blame themselves.¡±


    If my parents found out that I got hurt doing this, they would blame themselves? Oh boy was that just begging for me to have a fun response. I literally had to bite my lip to stop from saying the first thing that popped into my head. Because it definitely wouldn¡¯t have been anything good as far as keeping my secret identity went.


    Mom might have interpreted my moment of silence as awkwardness, because she spoke up again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You can do as you wish, of course. I just hope that you give it a thought. It¡¯s important to have people on your side. Especially those who love you, as I¡¯m sure your parents do.¡±


    Dad spoke up then, hand on the side of the doorway as he looked over to me. ¡°She¡¯s right, Paintball. Whatever your reasons for keeping your family out of it, I think it¡¯s safe to say they care about you. You seem like a pretty well-adjusted kid, all things considered. And the stuff you¡¯re doing, it¡¯s dangerous. That¡¯s why being part of the Minority¨Cor any team is a good idea. Having friends, having people watching your back, from everything I¡¯ve heard, it¡¯s pretty huge.¡± His gaze was locked on me, voice a little quieter as he pointedly added, ¡°As my lovely wife said, it¡¯s important to have people you can trust watching your back.¡±


    God damn it, they kept setting me up perfectly. There was¡­ a lot I wanted to say to every last bit of that. So many immediate retorts sprang to mind and nearly leapt out. But all of them were a really bad idea, as much as they might have given me a very brief moment of satisfaction. Seeing the look in my parents¡¯ faces would¡¯ve been amazing for about ten, maybe fifteen seconds. Then I¡¯d definitely regret it as my entire world came crashing down around me.


    So, I pushed all that deep into the back of my mind, smothering my reflexive responses under a metaphorical pillow before simply replying, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have people I can trust.¡± Not my family, but people. Belatedly, I added, ¡°Thanks.¡±


    With that, we headed inside. The penthouse was¨Cwell, a penthouse. It looked a lot like the hotels that my family went to, or maybe one of our vacation homes. In fact, judging from the paintings on the wall of the main living area, I thought the place might¡¯ve been decorated by the same guy who did the villa in Geneva. The place had his same sense of flair and style.


    On the way to the kitchen, we moved through the main living area, passing a series of huge floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the grounds on the way, similar to the ones in the main hall outside. These ones, however, were also clearly television screens as one of them was displaying an image of the news rather than a view outside. And another a few panels down showed a completely different view of what looked like the New York City skyline.


    Seeing the way my gaze moved as I paused there, Dad spoke up. ¡°Pretty cool, isn¡¯t it?¡± He stepped next to me briefly, as I struggled not to tense up. His hand moved to gesture as he started to explain all about the technology behind the joint window/video screens, telling me all sorts of stuff I already knew but had to pretend I didn¡¯t. It was pretty clear he thought this was a good way of bonding, by talking all about the fancy toys that a ¡®boy¡¯ like me would definitely be super into.


    I did my best to play the part, asking questions for a minute or so before we made our way into the kitchen. Skip was there, taking something out of the oven without bothering to use any kind of mitts. Obviously, she just ¡®skipped¡¯ the effect of being burned. Useful, that.


    Mrs. Chambers was there too, as promised. The blonde woman had just finished chopping up some mushrooms and was spreading them over several plates of salad. When we entered, she pivoted with a smile. ¡°I have to say, a dinner party with so many superheroes is fun.¡± Her gaze found me, and she extended a hand. ¡°Paintball, right?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, yeah,¡± I managed, mentally kicking myself for the hesitation while accepting her hand. I kept having to remind myself that I wasn¡¯t supposed to know her yet. ¡°You¡¯re Mrs. Chambers?¡±


    She gave a short nod to that. ¡°That¡¯s what they tell me. But please, just Joselyn. After all, we¡¯re all having dinner, there¡¯s no need to stand on formality. Here.¡± With that, she picked up the tray full of salads. ¡°Would you mind taking these into the dining room? I¨Coh, what¡¯ve you got there?¡±


    For a second I had no idea what she was talking about. Then I glanced down, realizing I still had the little paper bag from Lightning Bug, the one with the cute faces drawn on it. I¡¯d been holding it through all of that, somehow. ¡°Oh, I¨C¡± Looking to the girl in question, I asked, ¡°Is it okay if I open this now?¡±


    She gave a hurried, excited nod. ¡°Uh huh! But you can¡¯t eat any until after dinner. Those are the rules.¡± The kid recited that last part firmly, squinting at me with those compound eyes as though letting me know that she was going to be watching to make sure I didn¡¯t cheat.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be good,¡± I promised before opening the sack to glance in. Cupcakes. The sack had several cupcakes, all sealed up in ziplocks to keep them fresh and safe. Each cupcake had clearly been hand-decorated by Bug herself, with frosting and little candy pieces to make it look like the faces on the bag itself. Four cupcakes, one decorated to look like her face and three more decorated like Cinnamon, Kenobee, and Snugglebug.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Suddenly sounding nervous again, Bug quietly piped up. ¡°I did them myself. Um, sort of. Mom helped with the oven part.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Caishen agreed, laying a hand on her daughter¡¯s white hair. ¡°She did it herself.¡±


    ¡°Yum!¡± I enthusiastically intoned. ¡°You sure we have to wait til after dinner?¡±


    With a giggle, the kid nodded. ¡°No cheating!¡± she insisted while shaking her finger at me. ¡°No dessert til you eat your veg-ih-tuls.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you insist,¡± I finally agreed, rolling the top of the bag shut again before adding, ¡°Thanks, Bug. They look great.¡±


    Her response to that was to give a little squeak of embarrassment and hide behind her mother again. Giving her a break, I turned back to take the tray from Joselyn. She easily handed it over with a smile that reminded me of my own mother, before asking, ¡°Oh, and are you allergic to anything?¡±


    My head shook as I took the tray. ¡°Not as far as I know, thanks. I¡¯ll ahh, take this in¡­¡± I trailed off before looking toward Caishen and Skip for help.


    The latter had already put the glass dish from the oven down, and was stepping over to a nearby door next to the gleaming metal fridge. ¡°This way,¡± she instructed flatly.


    So, we made our way into the actual dining room. There was a large glass table in there, big enough to easily seat ten on each side, where place settings had been arranged in what was clearly a carefully planned way. At one end nearest the door were two settings next to each other, one on the very end and one beside it to the right. A bit further up, about a quarter of the way up the long table, were two settings next to each other. Meanwhile, across from them and another quarter of the way (so halfway up the table) was another setting by itself. Finally, there were three settings at the far end of the table, one on the actual end opposite the one set here, and the other two to the right of it. The first seat to the right had a booster chair in it.


    We found our seats easily enough. Mom and Dad were at this end, with Joselyn and Lincoln up from them at the next two spots. Obviously, mine was the one by itself on the opposite side. Setting the tray of salads down in the middle, I stepped around to head that way.


    As soon as I sat, Caishen stepped over and showed me where there was a dial and button on the side. When I turned it on, a glowing forcefield of sorts appeared out of the glass. It was U-shaped, the sides of it continuing past me on either side to form a couple short walls near either shoulder. The field was semi-translucent, like frosted glass so that it was impossible to make out details through, and high enough that it would cut off all view of me while we were eating. Since I was all alone on this side of the table, with the way the forcefield continued onto either side of me to block off the view, all they would see was a frosted-glass sort of image if they looked my way. There was one at the other end too, where Caishen, Lightning Bug, and Skip were, so that they could block any view of their faces as we all ate.


    ¡°It won¡¯t block any sound,¡± the woman informed me. ¡°We can carry on normal conversation. And you can see through it just fine from this side. Is that okay?¡±


    Nodding quickly, I assured her, ¡°Thanks, it¡¯s great. And¨Cand thanks for having me over. This is all really cool.¡±


    For a moment, the woman regarded me. It looked like she was about to say something, possibly about how I could have this all the time if I signed up. But in the end, she clearly pushed the recruitment speech aside and simply replied, ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here tonight. Buggy likes you a lot.¡±


    With that, she went back to help Skip bring out the rest of the food, carefully laying out trays. One by one, we each took salad first before settling into our seats.


    Despite the cover afforded by the forcefield thing, I was still careful. I was going to be careful regardless, but with my parents here (let alone an LA Times reporter)? Yeah, no way was I taking even the slightest risk. I opened the front of the helmet and lifted my mask up to my nose so I could actually put food in my mouth. Even without the shield, there was still no way to identify me that way. I also made sure the bluetooth in my ear wasn¡¯t disturbed when I pushed the mask up, so it would continue changing my voice as I spoke.


    Even then, all of dinner was horribly nerve-wracking. I¡¯m sure it was delicious, but I barely tasted it. Technically, I was pretty confident that given another hour I would completely forget what it even was. I was too paranoid about every last thing I said, every movement anyone made. Between that worry and trying to act like I wasn¡¯t worried, we could¡¯ve been eating broiled shoes for all I knew.


    Thankfully, Lightning Bug drew a lot of attention. She clearly loved having visitors around, shy as she might¡¯ve been, and knew my parents enough to ask questions about¡­ well, about Simon and me. She¡¯d met Simon, apparently, and kept asking when ¡®Cassie¡¯ was going to visit. To which my parents promised they¡¯d think about seeing if I wanted to come visit, which apparently made Bug happy. It sounded like they¡¯d been telling her stories about me, which was¡­ odd to hear about.


    And boy, wouldn¡¯t that be an interesting time? I could hardly wait for my parents to bring that up to me.


    The kid also asked about the Chambers¡¯ kids, Zed and Lexi. Apparently they were visiting another friend¡¯s place for dinner that night, someone Lexi knew from her online games. That prompted a whole lot of discussion about Ten Towers sponsoring certain competitors in those kinds of games, and the fact that Lexi herself was angling for something like that.


    In any case, I was soon distracted by the fact that Caishen started talking to me directly. Paintball me, that was. She was talking about how I should think about joining Ten Towers if I wasn¡¯t interested in the Minority, how they had specific rules that would help soothe things over if my parents ended up objecting to what I was doing, rules that would help them feel better. And, of course, very good benefits packages.


    She still wasn¡¯t overly pushy about it or anything, but yeah, it was clear that a large part of this whole thing was about testing the waters for potentially recruiting me, with my parents chiming in now and then about their own donations and investments. In Mom and Dad¡¯s case, it was obvious that they wanted to test just how much I was devoted to working alone. Whether Caishen was actively in on that or just a convenient way to probe, I couldn¡¯t say.


    Thankfully, every once in awhile, Joselyn or Lincoln would speak up and turn the conversation away from me. I really owed both of them for that. They seemed to almost instinctively know when I really didn¡¯t want to talk anymore, and always had the right thing to say to pull attention to them. Especially Joselyn, actually. I¡¯d expected her husband to be the one who could command people¡¯s focus that easily. But she seemed to effortlessly draw attention, regaling all of us (me included) with stories about what it was like to be a police officer (homicide detective, to be specific) in Los Angeles. Apparently she worked as a liaison with one of their local Star-Touched groups, which helped explain why she and her husband were so casual with this sort of thing, come to think of it. She basically worked right alongside Touched every day.


    God, I really hoped the Chambers weren¡¯t part of the Ministry. Please, I liked them a lot, even as little as I knew. They were cool, and it would¡¯ve sucked to know that they were just more minions of my parents, possibly extending their reach all the way down into California. Hell, Mr. Jackson had been stationed in Britain, so the Ministry having people in Los Angeles wasn¡¯t exactly far-fetched. But fuck, I really hoped not.


    In any case, whether they were part of the bad guys or not, dinner eventually ended. I had just fixed my mask and helmet before Lightning Bug hopped out of her seat, pleading with me to come play with her friends and make them pretty again. I agreed, partly because who could say no to her? And partly because it would get me away from my parents so I could breathe again.


    As I said my goodbyes to the Chambers and to my own parents before starting to follow the girl while she pulled my hand, my father spoke up. ¡°Whatever you choose to do, stay solo or join a team, make sure you have people who can watch your back. Make sure people you trust know where you are. What you¡¯re doing, this whole life, I haven¡¯t been there but I¡¯ve heard about how dangerous it can be. Like we said before, you need people you can depend on out there.¡±


    ¡°And think about telling your parents,¡± Mom put in. ¡°They would want to know, and as I said, finding out the hard way would be so much worse. For them and for you. If there¡¯s anyone you can trust with this Touched stuff, it should be them.¡±


    I was quiet for a moment, squeezing Lightning Bug¡¯s hand while she stood there gazing at me with obvious impatience tempered by trying to be as polite as a little kid could be. Finally, I nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll think about that. Thanks. I guess you¡¯re right.


    ¡°Families really should be able to trust each other.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 7 - Lion

    To any outside observers, the man striding casually across the semi-crowded floor of the Detroit Metropolitan Airport would not stand out in any way. He was of average height and build, his face entirely nondescript and clothing just dull enough to avoid attention aside from the simple glasses that he wore. There were no logos on his shirt, and they were clean without being obviously new. He wore his dark hair at average length, and offered faint smiles to those he passed without stopping for conversation. Not that many would care to strike up a discussion with the clearly incredibly boring figure who passed them.


    Nor would passersby be any more interested in the simple-looking backpack the man wore over his shoulders. There were no logos or patches on the brown and white bag, nothing that would give any indication that there was anything special about it at all. What appeared to be a very cheap padlock held the zippers shut, just as anyone moving through a public space like this would use. The bag, and the man who wore it, could have been any number of the thousands who passed through the airport every single day. To any who saw him, even those who paid attention, the man would disappear from their memory almost immediately. He was just another face in the crowd, one who did absolutely nothing that could make him stick out in their minds.


    That, of course, was entirely intentional. The man¡¯s ability to blend in and attract no attention was specifically why Lion had hired him to begin with. And in these past couple of years, Jared Keene had become a very trusted friend. One of very few whom the little Touched-Mouse felt comfortable with taking her through a place as terrifying as this busy airport.


    She was in the backpack, naturally. And, like the man who wore it, the bag wasn¡¯t nearly as simple and run-of-the-mill as it had been intentionally designed to look. Within the bag were three levels, separated by plastic dividers and slanted tubes that she could scurry up and down. The top level, just below the main zipper, was a bit of a watchtower. What appeared to be opaque cloth or leather material from the outside was actually easily see-through from the inside, like a fairly thin mesh that allowed the little mouse to peer through at the outside world.


    Meanwhile, the middle level was where her temporary living area was. Down there was a soft and warm nest to curl up in, her water and food, and a smartphone that had been set up to function as her main television. It wasn¡¯t simply for watching movies or browsing online, however. It also allowed Lion to view the outside world through the cameras built into Jared¡¯s glasses, or any of the several other cameras in the bag or his clothing. Or through the cameras of several small fly-shaped drones which automatically followed them from various distances.


    All of which meant that at any point, she could look in any direction to see what was around them. It was, again, the only way she could feel even slightly comfortable in a place full of as many dangers as an airport. Or any public space.


    Then there was the bottom level of the bag. That was the smallest and most protected section. It was essentially a safe room, surrounded by a thick, reinforced metal that would stand up to almost any level of abuse up to and including being in the middle of an explosion. From inside that small space, Lion could employ any of the dozen weapon systems and other defenses the backpack contained. She could also call in the fly-drones with their own attack capabilities.


    Many would have called all these measures completely paranoid and unnecessary. A hired (and highly skilled) bodyguard intentionally made to look as nondescript as possible, cameras facing in every direction, a secret panic room that was harder to break through than almost any actual bank vault, tiny fly-robot drones capable of putting a grown man down within a couple shots, and more weapons built into the bag itself. Most would have said all of that was patently unnecessary when one was simply walking through an airport to board a plane.


    To those people, Lion would have pointed out that¡­ they were people. Humans. Tall and strong compared to her. She was literally a mouse. At the absolute best of times, she was vulnerable to people stepping on her because they either didn¡¯t see her or did and panicked. Even if they recognized what her golden armor meant, some would still lash out. Either because they hated Touched-Animals like her, or thought it was funny because they didn¡¯t see her as a real living, thinking creature. She was perfectly and painfully aware of how many humans thought of her and those like her as abominations. Some thought TOuched Nonhuman Individuals (or TONIs) were connected to Abyssals somehow, or that all of them were Abyssals or would become them. Others believed their god dictated that animals ¡®cursed¡¯ with intelligence be purged.


    And that wasn¡¯t even counting the people who would try to actually abduct Lion to work for them. Her Tech-Touched ability to design elaborate structures and defenses would, after all, be an incredible boon for any Fell-Touched who wanted a new base. Or simply eccentric rich people who didn¡¯t want to commission and pay for her designs, but still wanted her work.


    The point was, between everyone who would accidentally or casually kill her, those who would intentionally do so out of maliciousness or religious fanaticism, and those who would abduct her to work for them, Lion had every reason in the world to be careful. Especially in a place she didn¡¯t visit often, like Detroit. In her home of Seattle it might have been different. People knew her there, and she knew them. It was much safer to be seen. But here, in this place? She would take no chances.


    But despite all the dangers of the world that she was all-too-painfully aware of, Lion still enjoyed watching people. She didn¡¯t hate the world. Far from it. She was simply incredibly cognizant of the dangers it held. From the safety of her secure backpack, the tiny mouse eagerly gazed through the mesh to look in every direction, trying to take in everything at once. Every person she saw had their own story, and she couldn¡¯t help but wonder what they were. And more than wonder, she actually made up stories about them in her own mind. Seeing a beleaguered mother half-dragging her two protesting children toward the restrooms while an uncaring father trailed behind with his attention on his phone, Lion instantly made up names and an entire story for their lives. The family in this story went through a harrowing adventure aboard a hijacked airplane that brought them together and made them much stronger in the end.


    While Lion was focused on trying to decide whether the mother and father in her story would be the one to land the plane in the end, the voice of her bodyguard/driver quietly spoke up with a simple, ¡°Ahead.¡± That single word was almost more of a cough, but she caught its meaning.


    The moment he said that, Lion scrambled in a circle, pivoting as fast as her tiny paws would allow. A second screen built into the back of the bag up on this top level showed the view through Jared¡¯s glasses, and she immediately saw what he was drawing her attention to. Or rather, who. Approaching them was a Native American woman in casualwear, simple jeans and a dark hoodie. Yet Jared and Lion knew her immediately, despite the fact that she wasn¡¯t wearing her normal costume of dark blue and white army camo and tactical helmet. This was Mika Holt, known to the rest of the world as the leader of the state-sponsored Star-Touched team of Spartans. And also, more importantly, a friend. Mika had, after all, been the one who introduced Lion to Lucent after the two had been online contacts for some time.


    ¡°Hey, Jared,¡± the woman greeted, ¡°and company. You mind if we find a place to chat for a minute? I know your plane doesn¡¯t leave for another hour, and this shouldn¡¯t take long.¡±


    Lion, of course, agreed by reaching out to touch a button beside the screen so that the voice from the speakers attached to her armor would be transmitted through the small button on Jared¡¯s collar. ¡°Ahh, oh, oh of course, let¡¯s get something to drink. If, umm, if you¡¯re thirsty.¡± The voice was soft enough that it barely reached far enough for the intended recipient to hear.


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    A small smile appeared on the dusky-skinned woman¡¯s face, before she gave a slight nod. ¡°Sure, I know just the place. Expensive as hell and basically the only spot in the airport that isn¡¯t fast food, but hey. It¡¯s a place.¡±


    With that, she turned to walk, with Jared easily following. To anyone watching, this was nothing more than some random nobody guy meeting some random nobody woman and going for coffee at the horrifically overpriced airport shop.


    Choosing a booth at the back of the room, Jared and Mika both ordered their drinks and waited for them to be delivered before putting the privacy screen up. It was essentially a wall of colored light that surrounded the booth and kept all conversations within private. Popular, for obvious reasons, with businessmen trying to make last-minute deals before catching their flights.


    Only once the drinks were there and the shield had been raised did Jared carefully set the bag on the far side of the table. By that point, Lion was ready and waiting, and a small slot appeared for her to scramble out. Casually hopping from the opening in the front of the bag to the table, the armored mouse peered upward to the woman who sat nearby. ¡°Ahh, hi there, Mika.¡±


    The woman, in turn, asked, ¡°Biscotti?¡± With that, she snapped one of the treats in half and set part down for Lion before taking a bite of her own piece. ¡°Heard you really helped Lucent out with his little project for the upgrade of the Seraph building out there.¡±


    Taking a little nibble of the treat while Jared carefully prepared a saucer with some of the tea he had ordered, Lion gave a quick nod. Her tiny nose sniffed the air, taking in every detail of the area surrounding the table and the dozens of people who occupied the restaurant beyond their private booth. ¡°Ahh, oh, yes, well I¡¯m just glad he found it, ahhh, helpful? Ahh, did¡­ did he say so?¡± Even as she answered, the sound of a glass being set down a little too hard three booths away (where the privacy screen had not been put up) made Lion pivot quickly, nose sniffing frantically. Danger! Danger! No¨Cno danger. No, just a somewhat clumsy waitress who apologized. No predator. No problems. No death. Still, she kept a wary ear that way while taking another quick nibble of the biscotti.


    ¡°He did,¡± Mika confirmed. ¡°But he didn¡¯t have to. It¡¯s sort-of your specialty, my mane friend.¡± The pun was accompanied by a wink before the woman casually added, ¡°Well, that and secretly directing the affairs of an entire universe.¡±


    Mice didn¡¯t blush. But if they could, Lion would have right then. Squirming a bit, she didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, she turned to the saucer of tea Jared had set down, leaning in to lap from it briefly. Only then, once she had assured herself that the drink was perfect (as usual, Jared knew what he was doing), did the small mouse turn her attention back to Mika. ¡°Oh, ahh, I only write some stories here and there.¡±


    Her words were met with a disbelieving raised eyebrow. ¡°Write some stories here and there? Is that what they call being one of the primary writers and directors of canon for a multibillion dollar franchise? You know they¡¯re saying the new movie is going to break records again, right?¡±


    Lion, of course, simply shrank back into her golden armor a bit from the attention. It was true. Much as it would have surprised people to know that the simple privacy booth in the corner of the airport restaurant held the Touched-Mouse known most for designing incredibly high-tech defensive structures, it certainly would have floored them even more if they were to realize that that same mouse was responsible for writing several of their favorite science fiction novels over the past several years under various pseudonyms. Specifically, three books within the Outlanders of Reach series. And that, since her first book in that previously-established universe had come out, she had been secretly made a consultant for shaping the direction of the overall narrative. She was credited as one of the screenplay writers under the name Eve Titus, writer of the old children¡¯s novel series Basil of Baker Street (which Disney had turned into the movie The Great Mouse Detective).


    Very few people knew of her work, given the names she used. Only three or four people within the publishing and production companies knew the true identity of their director of canon and the author of several of the most successful books in the series. Which was how she wanted it. Because if the public knew, Outlanders would suddenly become the series written by a mouse, rather than being judged on its own merits. And she desperately wanted those works to stand on their own. Her Touched-designs were one thing, but knowing she could write stories that people enjoyed based on nothing more than actually enjoying them was priceless.


    It was no real surprise that Lion was so involved and knowledgeable of the Outlanders universe, or that she loved writing so much in general. After all, before his untimely death in the same event that had given Lion her intelligence and powers, the tiny mouse had been the personal pet of the original creator of the books, long before they were turned into movies, comics, a toyline, and more. Aaron Nodgers, the man who had written the first books over two decades earlier, had kept Lion right next to his desk and often spoke of everything he was writing at the time.


    Of course, she hadn¡¯t understood any of it at the time. The man¡¯s words were nothing more than sounds. But they were comforting sounds that came from the man who fed and cared for her. And once the¡­ tragedy happened, once poor Nodgers was killed by the man who broke into their home before her orb appeared and changed Lion¡¯s entire existence, she finally did understand the words. She understood the things he had said when he picked her up in his enormous hand and cooed at her. She remembered and understood every word he¡¯d spoken to her in the privacy of their little home.


    It was that hindsight understanding of everything her owner and first friend had been telling her throughout their time together that really instilled the love of writing and of the Outlanders universe within Lion. Being able to direct his vision now the way she believed he would have wanted, that was worth more than she could ever possibly be paid for it.


    And that was the other half of the reason she didn¡¯t want her work in that fictional universe to be known. Because ¡®a Touched-Mouse wrote the new stories¡¯ would be all anyone knew about them. They would never understand or remember that the stories had originally been created and written by Aaron Nodgers, and Lion would rather die than take over his legacy like that. Outlanders was his baby.


    ¡°I¨Cahhh, I¡¯m glad people like the stories,¡± was all she could manage, shifting a bit to look toward Jared with a slightly quieter, ¡°You said it was doing okay.¡±


    The man, in turn, offered a very faint smile, completely unabashed. ¡°It is. I¡¯d call breaking records doing okay.¡±


    With a small chuckle, Mika put in, ¡°You keep teasing her like that and one of these days, she¡¯s going to find a way to replace you with a robot. Then where are you gonna be?¡±


    Jared, in turn, simply replied, ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll find out if the hive in Oregon needs an errand boy.¡±


    Making a soft squeaking sound of distress in the back of her throat, Lion quickly assured the man that his services and friendship would always be needed. Then, after taking a few more nibbles of the treat, finally asked the woman across from them, ¡°Ahh, umm, did¡­ did you really just want to talk about the uhh, movie until it¡¯s time for the plane?¡±


    Sure enough, Mika shook her head. ¡°Actually, I was kind of hoping to talk you out of taking that plane.¡± Once she let those words penetrate and knew that she had the mouse¡¯s attention, the woman pressed on. ¡°You might¡¯ve noticed we¡¯ve got a bit of a rising war going on between a few of our gangs. I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s going to get a lot worse before it gets better, so I had a few ideas about setting up some defenses around the jails and some other areas. I was hoping you might stick around and offer advice. For a regular contracted fee, of course.¡±


    Pausing, she put a hand out, flat against the table close to the mouse. ¡°I know you want to get home. I wouldn¡¯t ask if it wasn¡¯t important. I just¨Csomething tells me the fighting here is gonna escalate beyond what other people think. We could really use an edge, and I think you¡¯d be a good one to have.¡±


    Lion, for her part, was quiet at first. Mika was right, she did want to get back to her own comfortable (and very well-fortified) home. But how could she walk (or be carried) away from a request like that? How would she ever live with herself if she left and found out people died here in Detroit because they weren¡¯t protected the way she could protect them?


    So, after considering for almost a full minute while the two humans watched her in silence, Lion gave a short nod. ¡°Cancel the flight, Jared.


    ¡°We¡¯re staying in Detroit for awhile.¡±

 Interlude 15A - Peyton Favors

    ¡°Heeeey Mom, this is my hourly check-in to prove I didn¡¯t get kidnapped again. The password is ocelot. Or wait, was that yesterday? No. No, I swear, this isn¡¯t a cry for help. No, no one¡¯s making me say that. I swear, I thought the password was ocelot. What¨Costrich! We should¡¯ve gone with ocelot, they¡¯re cooler. No, Mom, still not a secret code for you to call the police.¡±


    Throughout her conversation with her mother, Peyton Favors strolled through one of Detroit¡¯s outdoor shopping malls, idly checking storefronts to see if anything looked good enough to step inside. The fifteen-year-old redhead checked her own image in the reflection of one window, turning her head this way and that as she studiously watched for any zits that might¡¯ve snuck their way in. Her hands were full of shopping bags, the entire conversation being had through a bluetooth earpiece. Her eyes rolled exaggeratedly at her own reflection as she carefully replied, ¡°Mom, I need you to listen very carefully to the words that are coming out of my mouth. No secret codes, no one has a gun to my head. I have not been kidnapped. Mitchell is gone, the creep got what he deserved. Yes, I know Paintball can¡¯t be around to save me all the time. Believe me, I¡¯m just trying to find something cute for Tanya¡¯s party this weekend. And maybe a couple other things.¡± She glanced down at the full bags in her hands and made a face at her reflection. ¡°No one is bothering me. I promise, I am absolutely and completely safe. I love you. You¡¯re even more paranoid than Grandma, which is saying something, but I still love you. Bye!¡±


    Reaching up to hit the button, disconnecting the call, Peyton took the earpiece out and put it in her pocket with a shake of her head. ¡°Urgh, you¡¯d think she was the one thrown into the back of a car by a fucking pedo piece of¨C¡± She shook that off abruptly. Dr. Corners, the therapist she¡¯d already seen a couple times since that whole thing went down, had said something about how her mother was overcompensating for not being able to help at all during the kidnapping itself by trying way too hard now. The whole calling in every hour, checking everything she did, using codewords to say whether someone was holding her against her will, it was crazy. Peyton wasn¡¯t sure how much longer she could deal with it. Half the time she was afraid that she would say the wrong thing on a call and her mother would end up sending a SWAT team after her.


    Hell, there¡¯d already been that one bit a few days earlier when Peyton had been at the theater. She¡¯d made the mistake of hissing into the phone that she ¡®couldn¡¯t talk now¡¯ before turning it off. They¡¯d only been fifteen minutes into the show when security came barging in and the house lights came on. That had been just about one of the most mortifying moments of her life. Especially considering she¡¯d been that close to telling Sarah Conrad that she thought she was cute. Now that was definitely ruined, after those guards had made it clear whose mother called them in.


    Sigh. Being into both guys and girls was supposed to make it easier to find someone to date. But between the guy she had liked online turning out to be some much older creepy kidnapping pedo loser, and looking like a fucking paranoid freak family in front of Sarah, maybe she was just doomed from the get-go. Byron was ace and he didn¡¯t seem to have any problems with his own relationships. Or maybe he was just a lot better at hiding it and looking like they were fine.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what Mom says,¡± Peyton informed her own reflection in the window, ¡°it is not easier being a fifteen-year-old. And you know, it¡¯s kinda fucked up that she says that practically in the same breath as the one she uses to give me all these rules because she¡¯s so paranoid that I¡¯m going to somehow magically end up in danger again. Like, we live in Detroit, not the middle of¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, Peyton was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a roaring engine, followed by a loud crash. Spinning that way with a yelp, she stared, mouth agape.


    The outdoor shopping center she had been meandering through was shaped like a large U, with the doors into various shops spaced all along both sides of the curved shape. The middle of the U was essentially a large patio full of stands to buy snacks, sunglasses, cell phones, or even get massages. There was a fountain toward the front of the shopping area, with a statue of some old man holding an umbrella just beside it.


    That statue was the source of the loud crash. Or rather, the enormous pick-up truck that had just slammed into said statue, knocking it over. And it wasn¡¯t alone. Three more huge trucks had come roaring up to block basically the whole road along the front of the shopping center. The backs of all four vehicles were full of thugs wearing a lot of leather and chains, holding bats, pipes, knives, and a few guns. All were hollering and whooping as they leapt from the trucks, landing right in front of dozens of shoppers paralyzed by surprise and confusion.


    ¡°You know the drill, boys!¡± The voice came from the direction of the truck that had knocked over the statue, as the passenger door opened and a heavyset figure emerged. He was a large black man, standing about six and a half feet tall and very wide. His only concessions to a ¡®costume¡¯ of any kind were the sleek-looking blue metal helmet he wore, and a pair of matching metal gauntlets. Beyond that he wore simple street clothes.


    Juice. It was Juice, one of the lieutenants of the Easy Eights. Which were who all these other guys were. The guys who were already spreading out, grabbing people who started trying to run. As the screaming started, the man called over it, ¡°Gather ¡®em and shut ¡®em up! Torch every building in this fucking lot!¡± To punctuate his words, the man extended his hands out to both sides and sent a blinding blast of electricity in either direction to slam into a couple storefronts with a loud, terrifying bang. ¡°I want the whole fucking place burned to the ground! Move!¡±


    Almost as if he had been speaking directly to her, Peyton reacted to that last word. The bags dropped from her hands, even as one of the Easy Eight soldiers approached with his baseball bat raised threateningly. He was saying something, but Peyton didn¡¯t hear. She was too busy pivoting. A scream tore its way from her own throat as she ran, sprinting away from that spot, away from the man who had approached her, away from the Fell-Touched Juice. Away from all of it, screaming the entire time. She ran, not even knowing where she was going. No plan, nothing.


    The sound of a loud curse from the man who had been approaching spurred Peyton to run even faster. She heard other people shouting, heard a couple terrifyingly loud bangs. Gunshots? She didn¡¯t know, she didn¡¯t know! Just run, that was all she could do. Just run.


    Racing past several stores, the girl glanced to the side. In the reflection of the windows, she saw herself. But she also saw the man behind her. He was so close! Oh God, oh god, he was so¨Che was lunging!


    Seeing the man make that leap, Peyton threw herself to the right, through the open doorway of a storefront. She landed hard on the floor, even as the man who had been chasing her landed on his stomach right where she would have been. His gaze snapped toward her as she lay on her side, and the man snarled while raising that bat. Reflexively, Peyton kicked out, hitting the door where it was propped open and sending it slamming closed just as the hurled bat crashed into the wood with a terrifying bang.


    Laying there on her side, Peyton hyperventilated as she stared at the door. It was only for a second, but that single second felt like an eternity. She heard the man cursing, could see through the window in the door as he started picking himself up. Up. He was getting up.


    Get the fuck up!


    Grabbing the side of the nearby counter, Peyton used it to haul herself up. She could see the man running toward her, toward the door. He was right there, right there. But just beside the door was a bookshelf stuffed with magazines. Even as a surge of terror raced through her, the fifteen-year-old lunged that way, shoving it hard. The shelf fell about halfway over before hitting the opposite wall of the doorway, wedging itself in tight just as the man kicked the door. But the bookshelf held, for the moment at least.


    A screamed threat from the guy as he hit the door again reminded Peyton that she couldn¡¯t just stand there. The shelf was already starting to move under the repeated furious blows. Any second, the man with the bat was going to break in, and she was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t happy with her. He would¨Che would¨Che had the bat¨Che was¨C


    She ran. Pivoting away, Peyton fled through the shop, tears of terror almost blinding her, to the point that she tripped over the edge of another counter, landing hard on her stomach with a yelp. Behind her, she heard a loud crash as the bookshelf was nearly knocked clear out of the doorway. From the sound of multiple voices, he had been joined by more people, all of them working together to shove the door open. There were a couple shouted threats about what they would do if she didn¡¯t stop, punctuated by the sound of a metal pipe hitting the wall.


    Fueled entirely by panic, the girl scrambled back to her feet and kept going. She didn¡¯t dare look back, instead practically diving to the left where, thanks to hours spent wandering through these stores, she knew there was a set of stairs just beside the employee counter.


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    The stairs were narrow and steep, but Peyton hardly noticed. Hearing the sound of the men behind her finally managing to breach the shop, their angry shouts growing even louder only spurred her to get up the steps faster. Taking them several at a time, using the railing and wall to boost herself, she struggled not to sob. Crying wasn¡¯t going to do anything. Paintball wouldn¡¯t sit there and cry about it. Sure, he had superpowers and all, but still. He¡¯d actually do something, and he was like¡­ a little kid. Okay, maybe just a couple years younger than Peyton, yet the point remained. He threw himself into life-threatening danger all the time. He¡¯d done so to save her. If he could do that, she could keep running instead of cowering on the stairs blubbering. She wasn¡¯t going to reward Paintball taking the effort to save her from that fucking creep by letting herself be¡­ be whatever these creeps were planning, especially now that they were pissed off. He¡¯d saved her before, but he wasn¡¯t here now. She had to save herself. Somehow.


    Only once the girl reached the top of the stairs (she¡¯d always wondered where they actually went) did she realize the problem. Where the fuck was she supposed to go now? She was standing in some kind of storage area, full of boxes and crates for the books that were actually on display below as well as some promotional material, lines of other shelves, and a few old mannequins for some reason. There were windows, but they were all blocked by metal bars.


    She only froze for a brief moment, thoughts of how stupid she was to come up here flooding her mind, before the sound of the men reaching the stairs below spurred Peyton to move. Rushed by blind terror, she fled past the row of mannequins and several stacks of books, throwing herself into one of the corners between two different crates. Huddled there, the girl drew herself back as tight as possible into that small space and prayed something would happen to interrupt the men. Or maybe they¡¯d spread themselves out too much and she could bolt for the stairs to escape? Please, please, she just wanted to go home.


    Home. In a rush, she reached for her phone, only to find her pocket empty. A memory flashed through her head of falling flat on her face downstairs. Her phone and the bluetooth had obviously fallen out then, and she¡¯d been in too much of a panic to actually notice. Fuck, fuck!


    By that point, the men had reached the top of the stairs. There was a moment of quiet murmuring as they clearly had a brief discussion about what to do, before one of the men called, ¡°Hey kid! Look, no one¡¯s gonna do anything rash, aight? We¡¯re just burning down these shops cuz the Niners make a bunch of money out of ¡®em. Ain¡¯t got nothing to do with you. Come out, we¡¯ll take you to the rest of the braindead civvies out there, and you can just sit until the cops show up to hold your hand, take your temperature, and give you a nice cup of hot chocolate. What do you say? Come on out, no hard feelings. But ahh, if we have to come in there and drag you out, I can¡¯t promise nothing.¡± There was a heavy thump of something like a bat or pipe hitting a nearby crate as though to punctuate his words. ¡°Let¡¯s make this easy.¡±


    It was tempting. Oh God was it ever tempting. But Peyton hesitated. Ducking her head as low as possible, she peeked out and looked, praying that she wasn¡¯t about to be face-to-face with one of the attackers. She saw three men standing right in front of the stairs. The guy who had chased her initially was facing the man who had spoken, hissing something angrily into his ear. That man gave him a short nod, and the guy with the bat started to silently move through the open room, bat raised as he carefully searched.


    ¡°We¡¯ll give you thirty seconds to think about it!¡¯ The man who had been talking, still by the stairs with the other guy, called. ¡°Then we¡¯re coming in there and you won¡¯t like it!¡±


    Right, thirty seconds. They were totally giving her time to think about it. That¡¯s why the pissed off guy with the bat was already searching. It was a distraction. They wanted her to think she had time to breathe, while that guy made his way through. And when he found her, he¡¯d¨Che¡¯d¡­


    For just a moment, Peyton¡¯s eyes closed. A shudder of panic ran through her as the tears came. What was she supposed to do? What could she¨C


    Something was in front of her face. Nearly screaming as she opened her eyes, expecting to find the bat pressed to her nose, Peyton instead found herself staring at a small, glowing orb, about the size of a softball. It was blue, with hypnotically glowing hieroglyphics moving across it randomly.


    Oh.


    Oh, that was neat.


    Completely forgetting her entire situation, the girl slowly reached out. Her hand grasped the ball, and she felt¡­ peaceful. She felt like she was safe.


    She wasn¡¯t in the store. She wasn¡¯t¡­ anywhere, really. Peyton stood in some kind of completely empty space. Instead of a floor, there was gray dirt under her feet. It was impossible to make out any details, thanks to the fog that filled the whole area. Not that there seemed to be much to see anyway. It was all just a flat gray wasteland filled with that fog.


    Spinning in a circle, she saw images appear in the fog. She saw herself at the computer, flirting with someone she had thought was her own age. She saw her own look of disgust upon realizing the truth, saw the way she¡¯d cut it off with the pedo fuck. She saw the moment she was kidnapped and thrown into the back of that car by Mitchell and his idiot friends, as well as the moment Paintball had saved her. She saw the intervention by those Braintrust people. She saw all of that, before the images shifted to show her today. It showed her shopping, fleeing, running up to this very point with the men chasing her.


    Finally, the images in the fog shifted to showing her the orb. The very orb she had touched to find herself here. And as that orb filled her vision, a woman¡¯s voice spoke.


    ¡°Summus Proelium.¡±


    Instantly, the vision vanished. Peyton was suddenly back in the shop. The orb had disappeared, but her open hand wasn¡¯t empty. Instead, six small metal marbles filled her palm. They were sleek and featureless, each a different color. Gold, silver, bronze, purple, black, and white. They felt warm to the touch.


    ¡°Hey!¡± The furious voice snapped her attention upward, just in time to see the man with the bat standing over her. ¡°I got the bitch! C¡¯mere, you little¨C¡±


    The silver marble suddenly flew out of her hand, slamming into the man¡¯s chest. There was a sudden shockwave that knocked over the nearby shelves and crates, as the guy was sent flying a good ten feet to crash against a pile of books with a scream.


    Scrambling to her feet, Peyton saw the man lying there in a heap, groaning. The other two men had been taken completely by surprise, but were already moving her way with a pair of shouts. One¨Cone had a gun. The guy who had been talking pulled out a gun!


    The marbles reacted to her terror immediately. All five that were still in her hand flew out of it. But instead of flying at the men themselves, they surrounded Peyton. The gold and black ones smacked into her chest and began to meld together before expanding. Suddenly, they weren¡¯t marbles anymore. They grew and shaped themselves into a golden chestplate with black highlights, which then expanded down into black armor with gold highlights across her legs and up over her arms.


    Meanwhile, the white marble flew up to her face, seeming to stare at her for an instant before it opened up, expanding like a mouth to swallow her as she screamed.


    No. It didn¡¯t swallow her. It turned itself into a sleek, pristine white helmet, covering her face and head but leaving her eyes exposed.


    All of that happened in the span of a couple seconds. Suddenly, her entire body was encased in armor created by three of the six marbles. The three remaining, purple, silver and bronze, hovered in front of her as though waiting.


    The two guys who had been running at her suddenly stopped, stumbling over their own feet as curses of confusion escaped them. Before she could react, the man with the gun fired a shot. Peyton screamed, stumbling backward¡­ even as the bullet ricocheted harmlessly off the armor. It didn¡¯t feel like anything.


    For an instant, she stared down at the spot of her chest where the bullet had struck, then her gaze snapped up to the source of it. The remaining marbles reacted to her impulse. The bronze transformed itself into a bat not unlike the one she¡¯d nearly been hit with, flying out to crash into the stomach of the man with the gun, then slammed down into his back to knock him to the floor. Simultaneously, the silver marble transformed into a rope, lashing itself around the other man before hurtling him through the air to slam into the first guy who had been knocked through the air just as he started to get up.


    Which left the purple marble. That one transformed into a long, flowing cloth, which lashed out the length of the room to catch all three men in a wide arc, before hurling them bodily into the far wall together with a collection of screams.


    The rope shifted slightly to become a whip as it flew into Peyton¡¯s left hand, while the bat found its way into her right. Finally, the purple cloth¨Ccloak, she realized, affixed itself to her shoulders. Peyton was left standing there over the three men as they groaned in pain and confusion, muttering half-conscious curses.


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± she whimpered, standing in the newly formed armor with the two weapons in either hand. ¡°Oh my God, oh fuck, oh god. What do I do now?¡±


    ¡°Well, ain¡¯t this a surprise!¡± The sudden voice snapped the newly-Touched girl¡¯s gaze toward the stairs, where Juice stood. The huge man could barely fit, but didn¡¯t seem to care about the damage he¡¯d done getting up there. His gaze was centered on her. ¡°Thought this was gonna be a boring cakewalk, but looks like I get to have a little excitement after all.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± the girl found herself blurting in a panic, ¡°I didn¡¯t¨C¡±


    He didn¡¯t wait. Instead, the man used a blast of lightning that slammed into Peyton. It¡­ it didn¡¯t kill her. It hurt, that was for sure. But not nearly as much as it should have.


    Unfortunately, it still served to distract the girl, and before she knew it, the big guy was right in front of her. He hauled her off the ground, snarling. ¡°Pretty tough, eh bitch? Let¡¯s see how tough.¡± Suddenly, he was spinning, much more graceful than he should have been at his size. Before she knew what was happening, Peyton found herself hurled toward one of the bar-covered windows. She struck it with enough force to break through, flying out into open air.


    Then she dropped. With a scream, the girl fell all the way to the ground in the middle of the open shopping center, landing hard on her chest. The bat and whip dropped from her hands, reforming to their normal marble shapes.


    A terrifyingly loud crash, followed by a thud made her spin over into a half-sitting position, staring as Juice straightened up from his own landing. There was a hole in the wall where he¡¯d leapt through.


    ¡°Still ticking, huh?¡± A low, dangerous chuckle escaped the man. Electricity played over his fist as he slammed it into his palm. ¡°Good.


    ¡°Let¡¯s have some fun.¡±

 Interlude 15B - Dani And Amber

    ¡°So, your friend¡¯s pretty weird.¡± The conversational announcement came a few seconds after Dani and Amber had been left standing by themselves in front of the school when San dragged Cassidy away after simply and unsubtly announcing that the two girls had a lot in common.


    ¡°Which friend?¡± Amber retorted easily while folding her arms as she regarded the new girl for a moment. ¡°The billionaire princess skater girl who¡¯s way nicer than you¡¯d probably expect, or the dude named after a city who thinks he¡¯s equal parts Casanova and Cupid?¡± That last bit was added with a squint toward the retreating figures in the distance.


    ¡°Yup,¡± came the encompassing answer as the black girl grinned. She rocked back on her heels a bit before adding, ¡°Soooo, like he said, I¡¯m Dani and you¡¯re Amber. And the Frisco Kid there might¡¯ve been super-unsubtle and all, but he did get one thing right. I mean, besides the names.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Amber remarked. ¡°That is a deep pull for a reference. What¡¯s that, early seventies?¡±


    Dani¡¯s head shook. ¡°Late. Seventy-Nine. And what can I say, my dad used to love him some Gene Wilder and Harrison Ford. Anyway, that thing he was right about is that it¡¯s breakfast time and I am like, super-fucking hungry. So, I¡¯m gonna see if I can find that enormous cafeteria again. You wanna help me do that a little faster? I hear I¡¯ve got something called an expense account there and I¡¯m pretty eager to see what kind of damage I can do to it in one day.¡±


    Snorting despite herself, Amber turned. ¡°Yeah, come on, it¡¯s this way. I¡¯ll show you. And does that mean you¡¯re not used to having an expense account attached to your school meals?¡±


    The response was a chuckle as the other girl moved to keep up with her. ¡°Trust me, babe, there¡¯s a lot about this whole situation that¡¯s new to me. I¡¯m not exactly what you¡¯d call old money. Or new money, for that matter. The entire having money concept is a bit shaky.¡±


    Something about the way the girl said that made Amber glance toward her as they walked toward the school entrance. There was a somewhat strange sense of deja vu, but it was momentary. Shaking that off, she curiously asked, ¡°Did you win a scholarship here?¡±


    Dani¡¯s response to that was a laugh. She practically doubled over, head shaking. ¡°Sorry, sorry. Just the idea of me getting a scholarship for anything is pretty fucking hilarious. Unless they¡¯re giving out ¡®mediocre achievement awards¡¯ now.¡± Still chuckling, she explained that her mother had been gone since before she could remember and that her father bounced years back. Apparently she¡¯d done the foster family circuit for awhile until the government found some rich great-aunt who lived in Europe. It was that great-aunt who put Dani in this school.


    ¡°She also put me up in an apartment in the city with¨C¡± The girl¡¯s face twisted just a bit. ¡°I guess you¡¯d call her a nanny? Anyway, she basically leaves me alone for the most part. I think she¡¯s just glad to have an easy job. Whole thing¡¯s stable enough. And now I get to go to rich kid school. But lemme tell ya, I was not expecting the first student I met to be Sterling and Elena Evans¡¯ little princess. Not that she¡¯s anything¡­ uhhh¡­¡±


    ¡°Anything like you¡¯d expect, yeah.¡± With a nod, Amber gestured as they entered the cafeteria. ¡°Anyway, here we are. If you¡¯re really hungry, this is definitely the right place to go. Pretty sure the head chef used to work in one of those fancy hotel restaurants before this place stole him.¡±


    ¡°See, and here I am just trying to get my head around the idea that lunch isn¡¯t mystery meat casserole served with an ice cream scoop,¡± Dani muttered while looking around the room. The two were attracting a few curious looks from people who clearly didn¡¯t recognize the new girl.


    Ignoring that, Amber was about to point out where Dani could order that food she wanted. Unfortunately, a new voice interrupted before she could speak up. ¡°Well hey, Amber, hey Jae.¡±


    Great. Knowing that voice, Amber turned a bit. Yeah, of course. It was Arleigh Fosters, the tall, blonde chick who had decided to make Jae her mortal enemy at the beginning of the school year just because her then-boyfriend had said something about Jae looking cute. Yeah, it was stupid, but it wasn¡¯t like Jae asked for his opinion.


    As soon as the two turned toward her, Arleigh made a show of looking surprised, hand covering her mouth and all. ¡°Oh,¡± she faux-gasped, ¡°you¡¯re not Jae. Hah, well then! Silly me. I thought maybe she finally took that trip to the doctor to get her whole¡­ pigment situation fixed.¡± Her hand waved around as though to encompass Dani¡¯s entire body. ¡°And, you know, they just went a little overboard.¡±


    Sighing inwardly as she yet-again reminded herself that smacking the other girl would be very against the Minority rules of not standing out or attracting that kind of attention, Amber demanded, ¡°Seriously, Arleigh? What¡¯re you doing, trying to bully by proxy? You know I don¡¯t give a shit what you think, right? Neither does Jae. And, oh, she¡¯s not even here. Who exactly are you trying to mock? Yourself for pretending you¡¯re too stupid to know the difference between a black girl and an albino Asian girl? No, seriously, what exactly was your plan here?¡±


    ¡°Wait, is that what this is about?¡± Dani looked back and forth between them before settling on the blonde girl. ¡°You¡¯re seriously like, trying to be the bitch bully of the school? Do they pay you for that? Cuz if you¡¯re really like¡­ targeting someone who isn¡¯t even here, they should really dock your salary. That¡¯s just lame.¡± She glanced toward Amber then with a slow head shake. ¡°Gotta say, I¡¯m pretty disappointed, I expected more effort from rich kid bullies.¡±


    ¡°One, I¡¯m not a fucking bully,¡± Arleigh snapped. ¡°This isn¡¯t some kid¡¯s movie or an afterschool special. Her friend is a fucking freak. Worse, she¡¯s a boyfriend stealing bitch freak. And I don¡¯t have to explain anything to you. I¡¯ve already heard what you really are. You¡¯re just a broke fucking¨C¡±


    And then she said it, a word that she never should¡¯ve said. A word that no one ever should¡¯ve said. A word that immediately made Amber¡¯s eyes widen, breath catching as a feeling of disgust and rage filled her.


    In the background, she heard Dani coldly and dangerously demanding, ¡°What did you just¨C¡±


    Without thinking, Amber lashed out. Her fist collided with Arleigh¡¯s stomach with enough force to double the other girl over, her cry muffled by the fact that the wind had been knocked out of her.


    The moment she did that, a rush of fear ran through Amber. What the hell did she just do? God, she was attracting attention. Now the school was going to get involved, and that would¨C


    She was distracted by Dani, who stepped up closer to the doubled-over Arleigh and put an arm around her to help the girl straighten up before too many people could notice. Clearly forcing her upright, Dani leaned in closer to whisper in the girl¡¯s ear. Amber couldn¡¯t hear what was being said, but she could make out the dangerous, intense tone of the new girl¡¯s voice. And she saw the way Arleigh¡¯s eyes rapidly widened while her face grew almost pale enough to make the girl bully herself if she stuck to the same standard that she used for Jae.


    Finally, the blonde managed to pull herself free, staring at Dani, then at Amber, then back again. It looked like she couldn¡¯t decide which of them was more dangerous. Her face twisted a bit as she sputtered, ¡°You two freaks deserve each other. Just go fuck yourselves.¡± Despite the harshness and certainty of her words, the girl¡¯s voice caught a bit. She was clearly blustering. With one hand over her stomach, she staggered away, muttering curses under her breath.


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    ¡°Dude,¡± Dani announced with a look toward Amber. ¡°Nice hit. Great follow-through. You take boxing lessons from your dad or something?¡±


    The question made Amber flinch, thoughts of her father rushing through her head. ¡°I¨Cno. No, he¡­¡±


    ¡°Aww, shit, I stepped in it, didn¡¯t I?¡± Wincing, Dani asked, ¡°Yours run off too?¡±


    ¡°What? No!¡± Amber hurriedly blurted. ¡°No, he didn¡¯t¨CI mean¨C¡± She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. ¡°He died, a little over a year ago. Hit and run.¡±


    For a moment, the other girl stared at her, before closing her eyes with a heavy sigh. ¡°And here I am, standing with both feet in the shit now.¡± Opening her eyes, she met Amber¡¯s gaze. ¡°Seriously, I¨CI¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have said anything until I knew what was going on. I just¨Csorry.¡±


    Biting her lip, Amber shook her head. ¡°You didn¡¯t know. You couldn¡¯t know. It¡¯s¨CI mean, it¡¯s okay. I miss my dad, but you don¡¯t have to feel sorry for me or anything. I¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she gestured. ¡°You¡¯re still hungry, right?¡±


    So, the two of them went through and got food. In Dani¡¯s case, she truly did stick to her plan of seeing just how far she could stretch that expense account. Which, as it turned out, was pretty far. She had a tray laden with a truly remarkable array of meats and pastries, along with some very delicious fruit and yogurt. It was a veritable feast, and even the girl herself looked a little overwhelmed as she set the tray down. ¡°Eesh,¡± she murmured, ¡°I might¡¯ve gone a tad overboard. But hey, waste not, want not.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, Amber remarked, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s not what that phrase means. Like, I¡¯m fairly certain it means the exact opposite of whatever this is.¡±


    Dani seemed to consider that for a moment before simply offering a shrug. ¡°Eh, whatever. The point is, I¡¯m about to dive into my first spoiled rich bitch meal. You might want to send for help if I don¡¯t surface within ten minutes.¡± With a thumbs up, she found her fork and knife and set to work.


    Despite her words, the other girl did keep talking while devouring her meal. The two of them chatted mostly about what Amber thought about the school and most of the people in it. It was clear that Dani didn¡¯t exactly hold the wealthy in high esteem. Which, again, bugged Amber. Not in the way she might¡¯ve expected, given a lot of these people were her friends and not nearly as bad as Dani seemed to think they were. But because it¡­ it felt like she was missing something.


    More to the point, talking with Dani felt far more normal than it should have. It didn¡¯t seem like they were having their very first conversation, awkwardly feeling each other out. Instead, it felt as though they were picking up from a previous conversation that neither of them have ever had. Yeah, it was weird. It was weird because it wasn¡¯t weird. Because they were so comfortable already. They just started talking and the words flowed easily. It was one of the most normal and casual conversations Amber could remember having in a long time with someone who wasn¡¯t Jae, which was just¡­ odd. Did she really like Dani that easily?


    Noticing that the other girl kept taking a bit of meat and rolling them into small balls before setting them aside, Amber asked, ¡°You got a dog at home or something?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Dani blinked, then looked down and coughed. ¡°Oh, uhh, no. I mean, it¡¯s more like a couple rats.¡± She gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah, just a couple rats. They like it when I bring extra food.¡±


    ¡°You keep rats? That¡¯s cool, what¡¯re their names?¡± Amber had always wanted to keep a pet rat, but her mother wouldn¡¯t stand for it. Which was totally unfair bullshit. She was a superhero, she should be able to keep a pet rat if she wanted one.


    Dani seemed a little surprised that Amber would ask that. Taking a second, she finally replied, ¡°Oh, you know, Remy and Nicodemus.¡±


    ¡°From Ratatouille and¡­ Secret of NIMH?¡± Amber guessed before being rewarded with a nod. ¡°That¡¯s so cool. Maybe I can see them sometime. I mean¨C¡± Belatedly realizing what she had just said, Amber turned pink, waving both hands. ¡°Never mind, I mean¨Cnever mind.¡±


    The other girl seemed just as flummoxed, words catching in her throat a few times before she managed a quick nod. ¡°Right, yeah, maybe sometime. That¡¯d be¡­ cool.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, cool. Sometime.¡± Feeling awkward, Amber thought about excusing herself. But that would¡¯ve been running away. Instead, she sat right where she was, telling herself not do anything else as stupid as inviting herself over to the home of a girl she had barely met.


    Finally, Dani brushed her hands off, picking up a napkin to wipe them while asking, ¡°So, where does one get doggy bags? No way I¡¯m leaving the rest of this here. Actually, do they let you put stuff in a refrigerator around here? Wait, don¡¯t tell me, there¡¯s coolers inside the lockers?¡±


    Snorting despite herself, Amber shook her head. ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re not quite that spoiled. But we do have pretty big lockers compared to the public school. And I¡¯m pretty sure if you ask, they¡¯ll put whatever you want in one of the coolers at the back of the kitchen and put your name on it.¡±


    So, the other girl did just that, taking her leftovers up to be put away. The lady behind the counter seemed a little surprised, but willingly put the food in a bag, scrawled Dani¡¯s name on it, and sent it to be put away.


    ¡°Right,¡± Amber started once that was done, ¡°come on, I¡¯ll show you where your first class is. And we should probably talk about how we¡¯re going to avoid Arleigh for the rest of eternity.¡±


    Dani, however, responded with a shrug. ¡°Meh. If she wants to start shit again, I say let her bring it. She really doesn¡¯t know who she¡¯s fucking with.¡±


    Squinting toward the other girl, Amber asked, ¡°Hey, that reminds me. What exactly did you say to her when you whispered back there? She looked pretty freaked out. Not that I feel sorry for her or anything, but seriously, how¡¯d you do that?¡±


    Dani, in turn, gave an almost feral smile. ¡°Oh, you know, I just made up some shit about being connected to a street gang who would make her life a living hell if she kept pissing me off. Something about stripping her car for parts, shaving her head, sending a bunch of my older cousins to fuck with her house.¡±


    ¡°You said you didn¡¯t have any cousins or anything, just a great-aunt,¡± Amber pointed out.


    With a grin, Dani nodded. ¡°Sure, but she doesn¡¯t know that. Anyway, she¡¯ll probably start shit again eventually, but I think she¡¯ll back off for now. Hey, when she starts up again, you think she¡¯ll go with the black thing, the poor thing, or the gay thing?¡±


    ¡°All of the above if she can manage it,¡± Amber replied. ¡°Especially since she¡¯ll have time to really think of something good. I mean, ¡®good.¡¯¡± She used her fingers to make the quotes.


    ¡°Yeah, well let¡¯s see what she comes at me with.¡± Dani sounded unconcerned, shrugging both shoulders. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just hire you to be my full-time bodyguard, huh? You did a pretty good job the first time.¡±


    Both girls smiled at each other briefly, before Amber¡¯s blush returned. ¡°R-right, um, speaking of the whole gay thing. I mean, what you mentioned before, and like San said about us having things in common. And like¨CI mean I just, I¡¯m sort of¡­¡±


    Sort of what? She wasn¡¯t in a relationship, because she couldn¡¯t be in one. Pack had expressed obvious interest, yes, but that couldn¡¯t happen. Pack was a bad guy¨Cgirl. Damn it, why did bad girl have to have such a very different connotation than bad guy? She was a villain, there. She was a villain and had no interest in being anything but a villain. All she really cared about was making money. Well, okay, she did have important lines she wouldn¡¯t cross, and she¡¯d been really helpful before. But still, she was far from a hero, and had absolutely no interest in changing that fact. She and Amber could never actually be something, right? So why would she tell this totally normal, cool, and super-hot girl that she wasn¡¯t interested? Especially given that would be a lie. She was absolutely interested. And the thing with Pack couldn¡¯t go anywhere. And¡­ and¡­


    ¡°Yo.¡± Dani was waving a hand in front of her face. ¡°You okay in there? I think I lost you for a second.¡±


    Realizing that she had literally spaced out like that made Amber¡¯s eyes widen, and she shook herself quickly. ¡°Sorry, I just¨CI um, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m ready to¡­ um.¡±


    ¡°Dude, we¡¯re just talking, chill.¡± With a small smile, Dani gave the other girl a thumbs up. ¡°It¡¯s all good. I¡¯ve sorta got someone I¡¯m interested in too.¡± For a moment, she gazed off past Amber, seeming to get lost in her own thoughts before shaking that off. ¡°I dunno if it¡¯s gonna be anything. It¡¯s kinda complicated, you know?¡±


    Oh boy, did this chick have no idea. ¡°Trust me,¡± Amber assured her, ¡°I definitely know complicated. I hope you figure it out though. And if you wanna talk about it sometime¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you too. Good luck with your whole thing.¡± With that, Dani pivoted on one heel to start walking down the hall with her guide. ¡°Hey, if we both figure our shit out, maybe we can all double-date or something.¡±


    Briefly thinking about how ridiculous that would be, bringing Pack to a restaurant along with all her lizards, Amber nonetheless found herself smiling. Because the only way that would ever happen was if she was honest with Pack, and the two of them worked through their differences. And that really was something to smile about. ¡°Yeah,¡± she murmured under her breath.


    ¡°It would be pretty cool to do something like that someday.¡±

 Non-Canon 5 - Wren And Izzy: Magical Girls

    ¡°Wren, are you sure this is a good idea?¡±


    It was a question that Izzy had ended up asking a lot in the three weeks since she had met Wren Donovan. Which itself had happened shortly after she had run away from home in response to her mother¡¯s rising obsession with profiting off of Izzy¡¯s own superpowers. Her mother had been in the midst of some sort of bidding war between Ten Towers and the Spartans about who her daughter would sign with. It was insane. But, bad as that was, it wasn¡¯t actually what pushed Izzy over the edge. No, that had come when she¡¯d accidentally overheard her mother on the phone with someone from one of the Fell-Gangs, trying to see what they offered.


    That had been more than she could take, and the girl took off. But not before telling her mother not to call the police or she would give them the recording from her phone of what the woman had been doing behind their backs with the bad guys.


    Before long, she ran into Wren and her uncle, Fred while a couple thugs were trying to rob their store (which ended up being pretty stupid anyway, though the men hadn¡¯t known they were dealing with a Tech-Touched).


    In any case, Izzy stepped in to help and eventually found out a lot more about the other girl. Soon, she was living there. Fred had initially made noise about going back to her mother, but when she explained the situation, he stopped pushing it so much. But he still said they had to figure out a way of dealing with it that wouldn¡¯t end with him in prison for kidnapping, even though Izzy told him her mother wouldn¡¯t be contacting the authorities. He made her call the woman every night to tell her she was okay and to check in.


    Sometimes, Izzy was pretty sure the man didn''t really understand the sort of person her mother was. He thought she was more¡­ more like how Izzy wanted her to be. But she made the calls anyway. She checked in and made sure her mom knew she was safe, but also that she would not be coming back. Honestly, she didn''t think the woman really cared all that much. Now that Izzy had made it clear that she would not allow her mother to profit off of her, not having to take care of her was the next best thing. It was--it made her sad sometimes. But it was hard to be sad around Wren. Which was basically the best part about living with her. Even if she did have a lot of pretty crazy ideas.


    One of which, of course, was what had led Izzy and Wren both to be lying on the floor of a bus that was parked at the far end of a middle school parking lot. The same middle school Izzy herself had gone to, actually. They had been hiding here, listening for any approaching cars for the past twenty minutes.


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s a good idea,¡± Wren insisted from a few feet away where she was laying on her back. ¡°You heard what those guys on the train said when they thought we were just a couple stupid little kids who couldn¡¯t even hear ¡®em. There''s some kind of stash in the school and they''re going to break in and get it. All we have to do is stop them. It¡¯s like the best first test of being superheroes, right? Just a couple guys, probably with a bat or something to break the window. We pop up, stop ¡®em, and then everyone knows there¡¯s a couple brand new heroes in town! Plus, it¡¯ll let us field-test all the equipment.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the testing part I¡¯m worried about,¡± Izzy murmured under her breath. She was a couple years older than Wren. But despite that, the other girl had already, in a very short time, become the best friend Izzy had ever had. She didn¡¯t want anything to happen to her. Or to herself, naturally. But Wren was right, this shouldn¡¯t be a big deal. Two adult guys trying to break into a middle school for some kind of ¡®stash¡¯ one of their sons had left behind? It was pretty hard to get an easier first test than that. This was something they could do. Especially since, from the sound of things, those two guys weren¡¯t exactly the cream of the crop as far as master villains went. They¡¯d been talking about the plan on the train, after all. Sure, they¡¯d been whispering and were far enough away from everyone else that it shouldn¡¯t have mattered. And there was no way they could¡¯ve known that Wren was testing her latest invention (a thing that transported sound from one area to another), which made it really easy to eavesdrop on them. But still, they definitely weren¡¯t criminal masterminds.


    Despite that, Izzy couldn¡¯t help but feel a little bit of uncertainty around one key thing the men had mentioned in whispers that should have been too quiet for the girls to hear. A single, almost offhand mention which had, nonetheless, stuck out in her mind.


    ¡°What do you think the Ministry is?¡± she asked. ¡°That one guy said they had to get the stash before the Ministry found out they lost it. Have you ever heard of them?¡±


    Sounding unconcerned, Wren cheerfully replied, ¡°Nope! I bet they¡¯re some wannabe gang that''s not even cool enough to be listed on Sphere-Wiki. You saw those guys. If they''re working for those Ministry people, they can''t be that scary. Oooh, I bet they''re like religious creeps. You know, like that cult that got smashed to bits by Cu¨¦lebre. Maybe they are that cult. You think we''ll find pamphlets on these guys when we kick their butts? I hope we find pamphlets.¡±


    Turning her head a bit to look at her younger friend incredulously, Izzy demanded, ¡°Wait, you''re actually interested in that cult stuff?¡±


    ¡°Heck no!¡± came the blurted response. ¡°But I always wanted to make one of those pushy creepsos eat one of their pamphlets and if they¡¯re bad guys, it¡¯s win-win, right?¡±


    Snorting at that, Izzy was about to respond when she was interrupted by the sound of a car engine as headlights illuminated the windows of the bus above their heads. Someone was pulling into the lot. The headlights themselves quickly vanished, though the car engine grew closer. Whatever was going on, it was obvious that the driver had turned off the lights as they approached the school. Which kind of ruled out it being security making rounds or anything innocent.


    Both girls exchanged looks, their expressions mostly hidden in the dim light from the distant street lamp. At the moment, they were dressed in their normal civilian clothes. Twelve-year-old Izzy (though she looked small enough to be ten or eleven) had long dark hair pulled into a ponytail and perpetually wide eyes that made it look as though she was always surprised and a little afraid, even if she wasn¡¯t. Nine-year-old Wren, on the other hand, had green eyes and light blonde hair that was cut short and still stuck out wildly in every direction. It kind of made her look like a mad scientist. Which--well, yeah.


    Both girls exchanged that brief look, then moved very cautiously to peek out the bus windows, barely raising their eyes above the window sill, just in case. Together, they squinted off toward the car that had just pulled up to the front of the school.


    It was an old sedan, one that looked pretty beat up. As the two girls watched, the pair of guys from earlier got out. One was an older guy with a gray scraggly beard that hadn¡¯t been trimmed or cared for in months, while the other guy was younger, with dark skin and a shaved head. Both looked around, but neither noticed the girls in the bus. They were too far away, and the men''s focus was mostly on the street. After assuring themselves that (as far as they could tell) they were alone, the men took ski masks from their pockets and pulled them on. The older guy moved up to the side door of the school to examine it, while the younger one opened the trunk and took out a couple of crowbars. Giving a soft whistle to attract the other man¡¯s attention, he tossed one that way to be caught before approaching the door himself.


    Izzy put a hand out, squeezing Wren¡¯s arm. ¡°Are you sure you wanna do this?¡± she whispered intently. ¡°I can¡­ I can handle it by myself.¡± She was the older one, after all. And the one with direct combat powers.


    Wren, however, gave a firm headshake. ¡°Nuh uh, we do it together. We¡¯re partners. Um, right?¡± The last bit was said more quietly, as she looked toward the other girl for affirmation.


    ¡°Partners,¡± Izzy confirmed, moving her hand down to catch the other girl¡¯s. Interlacing their fingers, the two looked back that way. The men were getting ready to break the door open, which meant it was their cue. ¡°Okay,¡± the dark-haired girl murmured, ¡°let¡¯s make an entrance.¡±


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    Throughout their time here as they waited, Izzy had been mostly subconsciously summoning water from several nearby sources, gathering it into a cloud high above the school. Now, she focused on the two men in the distance and made the floodgates open, quite literally. The water she had gathered all began to dump out on top of the men in an intense downpour, a torrent of rain that came so unexpectedly and so heavily that the two were nearly knocked off their feet. The girls heard them cry out in surprise, along with a clang as one of their crowbars bounced off the cement.


    It was also coming down too heavily for the men to see very well more than a few feet in front of their faces. Which, of course, was the point. Quickly, both girls opened the door of the bus and hopped out before running that way. As they approached, the men pivoted their way. Clearly, they could see some sort of shapes through the water, but they¡¯d never be able to describe or identify them.


    ¡°Ready, Swift?!¡± Izzy called out, loud enough for the men to hear. After all, a big part of the point of this sort of thing was for the bad guys to know and be afraid of what was about to happen. They had to build a reputation.


    ¡°Ready, Cloud!¡± came the other girl¡¯s loud response.


    ¡°Who the f--¡± the older man managed while raising his arm to his face to shield his eyes in an attempt to squint through the still-heavily pouring rain. ¡°Is that--looks like a couple of--¡±


    By that point, Izzy had raised her arm, showing the sleek silver bracelet there. ¡°Shield of the City!¡± she recited, knowing that Wren would be upset if she got it wrong. ¡°Shining Gift!¡± With those words, she pressed two fingers firmly against the bracelet, making the whole thing begin to glow brightly. A rush of wind emerged from the bracelet, strong enough to send the still-pouring rain even harder into the men¡¯s eyes and make them stumble back a step or two. Then the silver bracelet began to expand, in both directions, becoming a sleek gauntlet over her hand and bracer that covered the girl¡¯s arm. Meanwhile, one side of the armor opened up and shot an identical bracelet onto her opposite wrist. That too began to expand out over her arm and hand.


    Once her arms were entirely covered, Izzy brought them together in front of herself, banging both arms together with a loud clang of metal. As she did so, slots opened up on the side of the gauntlets facing her, and several silver balls shot out to strike her firmly in the chest and stomach. Within seconds, those balls had expanded and grown into armor covering her body and legs.


    Finally, she put both hands, palms out, against either side of her head. The palms of the metal gloves slid open, pouring what looked like liquid metal out over herself. That metal wrapped around Izzy¡¯s head and face, forming a gleaming helmet.


    With the base of Izzy¡¯s armor attached (it really only took a few brief seconds, during which the men were constantly pummelled by wind and rain), the system Wren had set up moved to the next step. Namely, producing a dark blue cloak that unfurled from the back of the armor and fell close to her knees. At the same time, a skirt of the same color as the cloak unfurled from her hips, falling to about mid-thigh (over the armor, of course), and an equally matching pair of blue, almost knee-high boots were produced from the inside of the leg armor, appearing over her feet.


    Of course, while all that was going on, Wren wasn¡¯t sitting on her heels. She had lifted her own arm to show the green bracelet there, simultaneously calling out the same, ¡°Shield of the City, Shining Gift!¡± Then she went through the exact same motions as the girl beside her. In this case, the base of her almost-identical armor was green to match her own bracelet, with white boots and skirt. Rather than a cloak, however, a pair of bright white dragonfly-like wings emerged from the back of the armor, lifting her off the ground.


    Finally, the downpour stopped, giving the two still-staggering men the chance to see who had interrupted them. Which came just in time for the two to complete their transformations from totally ordinary (sure) little girls into magical superheroes by, of course, announcing their names. Because that was just what one did in this sort of situation.


    ¡°Silver Force!¡± Izzy announced while summoning a wave of water to rise up behind her. ¡°Patroller Cloudburst!¡±


    Immediately after that, Wren took her turn, hovering up a few feet higher in the air on her rapidly-beating wings. ¡°Emerald Force!¡± she called. ¡°Guardian Swiftkick!¡±


    It was done. They had finished revealing themselves to their very first bad guys. And those bad guys¡­ well, it was hard to see their expressions through the ski masks, but they seemed pretty¡­ confused. Both stared in blank confusion, the older one managing a flat, ¡°What.¡±


    Okay, yes, Izzy did feel a little silly. But it was fun. And as Wren had put it, how cool was it to completely embarrass bad guys by being silly? Bad guys wanted to be taken seriously. This was sort of like how Gluegirl always mocked the villains and refused to take them seriously, treating the whole thing like a game. Taking away their ability to be treated seriously took away their power. Plus, if they were distracted by just how silly the whole thing seemed, it¡¯d be even easier to beat them. Every little edge helped.


    It was, to put it mildly, a lot more thought that had been put into the situation than Izzy had initially assumed when Wren first presented her plan for their duo costumes and identities.


    The two men in front of them, however, weren¡¯t privy to that explanation. Hit with the sight in front of them, both stood there in stunned silence for a moment. Then they doubled over, laughing uproariously. They were clinging to one another, not in fear, but because both were clearly about to collapse in a fit of laughter. Finally, the younger guy gestured dismissively. ¡°Right, okay, kids, you¡¯re very cute. Now run off and play Magic Princess somewhere--¡±


    That was about the time that he was interrupted by a firehose-spray of water that erupted from just in front of  Izzy¡¯s hand, as she only somewhat belatedly remembered to quickly blurt out, ¡°Gem Torpedo Rush!¡± The powerful geyser slammed into the man¡¯s chest, making him stumble backward and nearly fall. Then he really did fall, but not in the way he expected. Izzy abruptly shifted his gravity, making the man start to fall upward as he flailed and cried out.


    Meanwhile, the older man had started to turn toward his suddenly rising companion when Wren suddenly flew straight at him. With those wings, the girl was incredibly fast. Fast enough, in fact, that her form was a blur. Her own cry of, ¡°Cacophony Blitz!¡± filled the air as she slapped her hands against the man¡¯s shoulders with enough force to make him stumble and curse. Then he looked down to find two stickers stuck to his shoulders where Wren had left them. The first sticker had a picture of a unicorn running over a rainbow, while the second showed an anthropomorphic star and moon hugging each other. ¡°What th--aaaaahhh!¡± His hands snapped up to cover his ears, as Wren triggered the cacophony part of the blitz. Basically, she had put stickers near or on top of a dozen or so loud things like cars, lawn mowers, and chainsaws while they were running. The stickers ¡®moved¡¯ the sounds they absorbed into a central battery of sorts, before unleashing all of it through the ones that Wren had just put on this guy. He fell to the ground, covering his ears and definitely in no shape to fight back. Or laugh at them anymore.


    The other guy had managed to hold onto his crowbar, which he raised while still floating seven or eight feet off the ground. ¡°Y-you fucking kids get me down, or I--¡± In the midst of waving that weapon threateningly, the man yelped as it was suddenly yanked out of his hand when Izzy increased the gravity for the wet crowbar and nothing else. It hit the ground with a clang, leaving the man floating helplessly in the air and flailing. He gave a few impotent curses before falling silent as his motions made him flip upside down in the air, shirt falling down over his face.


    Quickly, Izzy and Wren moved to their own opponents, each producing a pair of handcuffs before slipping them onto the men¡¯s wrists. Only then did Izzy gradually release her gravity hold on the first man, making him drop (gently) to the ground, while Wren disabled the stickers, making her own opponent finally sigh in relief as all that sound stopped being transported directly into his ears.


    Both men tried to get up, but found they couldn¡¯t actually move the handcuffs anywhere. Mostly because Wren had activated the ¡®motionless¡¯ part of her cuff design. As long as it was active, no one who couldn¡¯t lift a few thousand pounds would be able to make the cuff budge an inch. They would just hover in the middle of the air as if they¡¯d been welded to (invisible) solid steel.


    ¡°Well, Swiftkick, guess we did it after all,¡± Izzy started. ¡°We--hey, when did that door open?¡± She was looking toward the back door of the school, which the guys here definitely hadn¡¯t had time to break. Yet the door stood wide open.


    Abruptly, a whistle filled the air from the far side of the lot, near the edge of the school. Both girls spun that way, only to see a girl in a white chainmail-like turtleneck under a long red overcoat, with black gloves and matching black cargo pants. She also wore a red helmet with a thin black visor right where her eyes would have been.


    ¡°Thanks, girls!¡± the new figure called while holding up a small brown sack. ¡°Let¡¯s just say a couple people really close to me wanted to get this back from the Ministry, and I¡¯m not in the mood to let ¡®em have it. I was gonna take it from those morons, but you took care of ¡®em. So, ya know, thanks again!¡±


    Seeing her there, Izzy took a step, only to blink downward. ¡°Did this parking lot always have a big blue spot on i--¡± That was as far as she got before the blue spot suddenly threw her and Wren both into the air. Wren righted herself with those wings, darting quickly over to where Izzy had already stopped herself with her own powers by soaking her costume and then floating. The intruder, of course, was long gone.


    ¡°Wha--who the heck was that?!¡± Wren blurted.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you know?¡± Izzy asked, squinting at the spot where the figure had been.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s called a nemesis.¡±

 Building Connections 16-01

    ¡°Hold up, wait just a second. Wait, so let me get this straight, you just came right out and asked for someone to help you fix a Touched-Tech robot-android thing on a public forum?¡±


    The incredulous words were from Pack, who stood in one corner of Wren¡¯s upstairs lab at the shop, staring at me as if I¡¯d just told her I was engaged to marry the Abyssal Typhon.


    It was Tuesday, April 14th, the next day after my interesting dinner with Caishen, Skip, Lightning Bug¡­ and my parents. I¡¯d spent some time after they left just hanging out with Bug, playing with her insect friends (and making them pretty, of course). Eventually, I¡¯d promised to visit again soon and made my exit. Then I¡¯d told Izzy all about what happened while we were safe in my room, which was¡­ yeah. Just being able to tell someone else about the near-panic attack I¡¯d had when I saw my parents there, and all the way through it, was basically a life saver. Or at least a sanity saver.


    Anyway, now it was the next day, shortly after school had let out. Pack and I had arrived at roughly the same time, which made me wonder how far away her school was. Did she even still go to school as a supervillain member of La Casa? Or was there like a¡­ work-study program?


    Coughing while pushing that thought away, I held up both hands quickly, glancing off to the side where Wren was carefully running the new scanner she¡¯d made over every inch of Paige, who lay motionless on a padded table. ¡°Not exactly,¡± I corrected. ¡°I¡¯m not that stupid. Like I said, Lion told me about that secret code to privately hire Tech-Touched, so I¡¯m just¡­ feeling it out. I¡¯m not giving any details yet. I¡¯m seeing who bites and chatting with them a bit. Just, you know, feeling them out. It¡¯s a potential option.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see her face, of course. But from her body language alone, I was pretty sure Pack wasn¡¯t exactly convinced. A side glance toward her cage full of lizards sitting on a nearby equipment table showed that they seemed to be just as doubtful about the situation. Which, honestly, was a really weird impression to be getting from a group of reptiles to begin with.


    With a sigh, Pack started to respond. ¡°Look, I know I don¡¯t need to tell you about the dangers of trusting anyone you talk to online and the whole stranger-danger, pedo¨C¡± She stopped, choking a bit before giving me what was clearly a sharp look. ¡°I don¡¯t have to tell you about that, right?¡±


    Squinting at her from behind the mask and helmet for a long, silent moment, I very slowly shook my head while keeping my voice even and flat. ¡°I¡¯ve had the discussion a few times before.¡±


    ¡°Good, just¡­ good.¡± Sounding almost insultingly relieved, Pack pushed on. ¡°The point is, just because you think someone might sound trustworthy in a few internet conversations doesn¡¯t mean they are. Don¡¯t do anything crazy that you might regret, okay? It¡¯s not like you¡¯ll get a second chance if whoever you bring in here happens to blab about the whole situation.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna do anything crazy,¡± I solemnly promised, raising my hand as though taking an oath. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t bring anyone in without seeing what you guys thought anyway. Not with something that important. Just¨Cbelieve me, I won¡¯t be stupid about it. But we have to do something, and soon.¡± With that, I glanced over to Wren again, who was still working.


    Pack hesitated, watching me for a moment before giving a very short nod. ¡°We will, Paintball. Trust me, I know it¡¯s easy to feel¡­ you know, fucking anxious and shit about all this. But we¡¯ll figure it out. You said yourself there¡¯s no real rush. The girl¡¯s fine over there, just sleeping. And honestly, if we were in a rush, I¡¯d rather trust Eits to get in there and fix the damn orb thing.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Even if that meant finding a way to get to it. You sure you can¡¯t just pink paint it?¡±


    Grimacing slightly, I offered a hesitant shrug before admitting, ¡°I dunno. I¡¯ve never really pulled someone¡¯s body, uhh¡­ apart or open like that. It just stretches the body part out like taffy. And I¡¯m afraid¨CI mean, what if it does actual damage? Like, the part that¡¯s painted is protected, but what if I rip open her stomach or whatever and expose her inner¡­ uhh¡­ organs and that goes wrong? I¡¯m pretty sure they have super sterile operating rooms for a reason. And like, a bajillion years of lessons about how to safely open someone up.¡± My face twisted a little at my own words. ¡°Plus I¡¯d have to keep reapplying the paint or the whole thing would just, umm, schloop back. And that¡¯s if it works to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Too bad you don¡¯t have another biolem body to practice with,¡± Pack noted thoughtfully.


    Before either of us could pursue the thought any further, Wren called out, ¡°Got it, I got it!¡±


    ¡°You sure, kid?¡± Pack asked while immediately stepping over that way with me just behind her.


    Wren, who was perched on a stool with the scanner against Paige¡¯s back as the other girl¡¯s motionless body lay on her stomach, gave both of us a hurried nod of excitement. ¡°Uh huh. I mean, unless she¡¯s got some other metal orb thing in her body that¡¯s connected to all her nerves and muscles and all for a completely unrelated reason.¡± Pausing as though considering that, she quickly shook her head, pointing to a point about midway down Paige¡¯s back before hurriedly insisting. ¡°It¡¯s here. Right in there. Basically right between her lungs. You know, protected by the ribs.¡±


    Exchanging a look with Pack, I slowly nodded. ¡°I mean, that makes sense. Her dad would want it to be safe. He put the others inside the skulls, but maybe he thought avoiding obvious headshot damage would be easier?¡± Shrugging, I added, ¡°Anyway, great job, Wren. At least we know where it is now. And if it¡¯s in her chest instead of her head, maybe it¡¯ll be easier to get someone else involved without exposing her identity. I mean, we can mask her up pretty well, right? If it comes down to it, we can just hide her identity that way. They¡¯d know there was a really good biological android¡­ person, but not who she actually is.¡±


    It was Wren and Pack¡¯s turn to exchange looks, before the latter shrugged. ¡°Sure, it¡¯s an idea.¡±


    For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something else, but a sudden chirp from my phone interrupted. Holding up a hand, I glanced at the phone. ¡°Oh, hey, it¡¯s time for me to go pick up my uhh¡­¡±


    ¡°Your minions?¡± From the tone of her voice, Pack was incredibly amused by the whole situation. With a wave of both hands, she teased, ¡°Time for the noble and incredibly valiant Star-Touched hero to go meet up with the older teenagers he press-ganged into being his loyal minions.¡±


    Boy was I glad the helmet meant she couldn¡¯t see my blush. It really would¡¯ve wrecked my rep. Or something. ¡°They are not minions!¡± I blurted, my voice rising in an embarrassing squeak that Pack did an absolutely awful job of pretending not to laugh at. Hurried, I pushed on. ¡°I mean they¡¯re not¨CI¡¯m not¨Cthey¡¯re just¡­ you know, helping out in exchange for not getting in trouble and then we¡¯ll give them money if they keep helping and keeping everything we¡¯re doing secret and oh my God they really are minions.¡±


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay!¡± Wren piped up. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll treat your minions really good, right?¡± She started to say something else, then paused while looking at Pack. Something on her face made me glance that way too, before realizing what it was. The other girl was standing basically directly beside the painted banner on the wall that read, ¡®We Never Work For Bad Guys.¡¯


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    Pack, who turned a bit to see where we were looking, pivoted back and offered an exaggerated shrug. ¡°Hey, I consider this more me working for you.¡±


    Wren, however, simply shook her head. ¡°It just says we don¡¯t work for bad guys. You¡¯re not a bad guy. There¡¯s bad guys and then there¡¯s bad guys.¡±


    Coughing, the lizard-tamer gently pointed out, ¡°Far be it from me to argue, kid, but I literally rob places. I mean, sure it¡¯s fun to do some good stuff now and then, especially with you guys. And I¡¯ve got my limits. Still, I ain¡¯t gonna stop stealing shit. Most people would consider that being a bad guy. Pretty sure taking what doesn¡¯t belong to you is part of the definition, actually.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Sounding entirely unconvinced, Wren pivoted to look at me. ¡°Uncle Fred¡¯s picking up a pizza! And some breadsticks and stuff! So you should bring them back so it¡¯s still hot when they get here. Oh, and make sure they¡¯re not lactose intolerant or gluten-free or anything,¡± she added sagely.


    ¡°Speaking of which, have you told those guys about ahh¡­ who they¡¯ll be working for in this place?¡± Pack asked, making a vague token effort at keeping the amusement out of her voice. As she spoke, her hand fell on Wren¡¯s shoulder, squeezing it.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± I replied, already starting to head to the nearby window so I could head out. ¡°I mean, I could¡¯ve.


    ¡°But why spoil the surprise?¡±


    *******


    Reaching the roof above where I was supposed to meet Murphy and Roald, a few blocks from Wren¡¯s shop, I was greeted with the sound of a basketball being dribbled, then bouncing off a rim. Peering over the edge, I saw the two in question playing on a nearby court attached to the small apartment complex this building was a part of. Yeah, it was definitely them. Roald the skinny, pale blond boy and Murphy (seriously, was that her first name?) the biracial girl with very short brown hair and a temper that was even shorter.


    Neither seemed to be particularly good at the game they were playing from the few moments I watched, but they were clearly having fun. And who was I to judge someone else¡¯s basketball skills? I wasn¡¯t exactly¡­ uhhh insert good basketball player. Simon would know.


    In any case, they missed a lot more baskets than they made, but neither of them seemed to care. Crouching there, staring at the two, I saw the way they just goofed off and acted like they were both hotshot stars, playing up for an imaginary crowd and trash-talking each other.


    God, what was I doing here? Why was I involving them at all in any of this? I should just disappear, leave a message to let the two of them know everything was fine and they didn¡¯t owe anything, and let them live in peace. Even if I wasn¡¯t planning on involving them in any of the actual¡­ bad stuff, just having any connection to me could put them in danger. They didn¡¯t have any powers or anything. They were total civilian Prevs with their whole lives to deal with.


    Right, their whole lives. That was the problem. I¡¯d promised the two of them jobs, a way to get out of the holes that were their lives if they put some effort into it. Sure, they were going to have to work off the cost of the damage they¡¯d done before, but after that, working for a Tech-Touched could seriously change everything for them. If I snatched that away now, after saying I was going to give them a chance, I doubted they¡¯d listen to ¡®but it¡¯s for your own good.¡¯ I¡¯d just be another asshole who didn¡¯t give them a chance.


    Besides, I could still keep them out of the worst of it. Working with Wren wasn¡¯t exactly being around me. And Wren had all those defenses she¡¯d been working on, right? Right. Yeah, I just had to keep convincing myself that this wasn¡¯t an awful, terrible, horrible idea that I was going to regret.


    Pushing on past all that, I straightened, took aim, and fired a shot of red paint at the ball while it was in midair. Holding out my own red glove, I activated the paint, summoning the ball to me just as it bounced off the edge of the big wooden board thing the rim was attached to.


    Murphy and Roald both pivoted, their eyes following the ball as it flew all the way up to the roof of the three story building I was on. While they watched, I overhand chucked it back the other way, hurling the ball as hard as I could in the vague direction of the basket. It sailed¡­ nowhere near going in. But while the ball was still falling, I hit both it and the inner part of the rim with red paint, activating them with a thought. That sent the ball on a complete course correction, falling neatly through the net.


    ¡°Whooo!¡± Leaping from the roof, I painted my feet orange to land comfortably on the pavement. ¡°How many points is that? Like seven?¡±


    The other two exchanged looks, before Roald jogged over to get the ball. As he was doing that, Murphy approached. She still had the mark on her face from the sealant that the ambulance guys used, since it hadn¡¯t been a week yet.


    Oh my God, it hadn¡¯t been a week yet? What the fuck? Was it really only Tuesday when Paige¡¯s birthday party had been Saturday? It felt like it had been a couple months at least. What the hell was happening to my life?


    While I was busy reeling from the shock of how time worked, Murphy gestured toward the ball that her friend was picking up and remarked, ¡°How¡¯d you do that?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, you do know I used my power, right?¡± I was confused. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I wasn¡¯t that sneaky.¡±


    While the girl rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might pass out, Roald approached and spoke up. ¡°She means the paint part. You hit the ball in midair twice from all the way up on the roof. And you hit the inner part of the rim. Those are like¡­ really good shots.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Blinking at the thought, I finally shrugged. ¡°I dunno. Guess I¡¯ve had practice aiming my paint lately. And if you think that¡¯s impressive, you should see me navigate a forest in the middle of the night.¡±


    Right, I should probably try to figure out what was up with that at some point, huh?


    Poor Roald and Murphy, meanwhile, were just staring at each other in silence for a few seconds before both turned back to me. ¡°Dude,¡± Murphy managed, ¡°if you try to get us to follow you into a dark forest, I¡¯m gonna have to peace out. I don¡¯t do nature walks. Also, I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s how like half of the Grimm¡¯s Fairy Tales start. You know, the original really psycho ones.¡±


    ¡°I promise to wait awhile before taking you to the Gingerbread House,¡± I solemnly replied before gesturing. ¡°Anyway, you guys ready?¡±


    ¡°Sure, do we need these?¡± From her pocket, Murphy pulled out a ski mask. Probably the same one she¡¯d been wearing that night when they tried to steal from the convenience shop.


    ¡°We weren¡¯t sure how much you wanted us to hide,¡± Roald put in.


    ¡°Depends,¡± I replied, ¡°do you want to wear those the whole time you¡¯re working for your new boss? I mean, it¡¯s totally up to you and I¡¯m pretty sure she could help you with more comfortable ones if you wanna keep your identities secret and all that. But you don¡¯t have to. Like I said, up to you.¡±


    After a moment of thought and whispered conversation, Murphy shoved the mask away again and shrugged. ¡°Whatever. I mean, you said we¡¯re working for this chick, right? This shit is legit?¡± From the sound of her voice, she was at least half-expecting me to laugh in their faces and take off. Between that and the whole thing with her drug-addict brother giving her that cut on her face, I was getting the vague impression that Murphy didn¡¯t have a lot of dependable people in her life.


    ¡°As legit as we can make it,¡± I assured her. Briefly thinking about how both of them were going to react to finding out their boss was technically still young enough to get into the theater using kid prices, I smiled faintly. ¡°I mean yeah. It¡¯ll be real work and, as soon as you catch up with what you owe for your little escapade, you¡¯ll make real money. From there, well, we¡¯ll see what happens.¡±


    ¡°Okay, sure, whatever. But how do we get there?¡± Murphy gave me a doubtful look. ¡°And please don¡¯t say we have to let you carry us or something. That¡¯s just gonna be embarrassing for everyone involved.¡±


    Snorting at that, I shook my head and gave them the address and directions. ¡°It¡¯s just a couple blocks that way. You head there and wait by the backdoor. I¡¯ll let you in and we¡¯ll meet your new¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, I cut myself off. Something had drifted past the corner of my eye, over by the building. My gaze snapped that way, and I thought I saw it right next to one of the bushes there. I could¡¯ve sworn that it looked like one of those Summus Proelium orbs, but it was gone the instant I focused, so it must¡¯ve just been my imagination. A trick of the light or something.


    Either way, facing that direction meant I saw the trucks that went past. Several of them, in fact, all decked out with Easy Eight decals, men with weapons standing in the backs. I even caught a glimpse of Juice himself in one of the passenger seats. He was looking away from me, his attention on wherever they were going. But it was definitely him.


    A bunch of Easy Eight people heading down the street into what I was fairly certain was considered Ninety-Niner territory? Fuck. This wasn¡¯t gonna end well. Or start and proceed well, come to think of it. It was gonna be bad all around.


    ¡°Paintball?¡± That was Roald, drawing my attention. ¡°What¡¯s¨C¡±


    ¡°Go to the address,¡± I blurted, already starting to move after the line of trucks. ¡°Hit the bell on the back door, tell them who you are, and that I¡¯ll be there soon. Just let them know that I¡¯m going after some Easy Eights heading into Ninety-Niner territory.


    ¡°Looks like there¡¯s not gonna be a ceasefire in the gangwar today after all.¡±

 Building Connections 16-02

    By the time I caught up with the Easy Eight trucks, they had reached what was apparently their destination. It was an outdoor shopping center, where one of the trucks had already plowed its way through a statue in front of the fountain. All of the vehicles were spread out along the road and sidewalk in front of the shopping center, clearly being used as barricades to help stop the people within from easily escaping. They couldn¡¯t block off everything, but they did their best.


    Landing on the roof of one of the buildings, I took a second to process what I was seeing. Down below, a bunch of the Easy Eight troops were busy rounding up customers and employees alike. They were moving them to a specific area in the middle of the open walkway between shops. Some of the civilians were struggling more than others, but it didn¡¯t do them any good. Easy or hard, all of them were taken to join that crowd, tied with what looked like ordinary zip-cuffs, and made to sit on the ground. Just how rough the thugs were with their respective prisoners seemed to vary a lot, though at least it looked like they were treating the elderly a bit more gently. There were a few benches nearby and anyone who genuinely looked old was being allowed to sit there with their hands zip-tied in front of them rather than behind. So at least there was that. Not that it made these Easy Eight guys heroes, but they weren¡¯t the ¡®push a helpless elderly person to the ground¡¯ level of scum. They still had some vague level of decency.


    Beyond just waiting to see what the general scene looked like before I threw myself into it like an idiot, I was also trying to get an idea of where Juice might be. He was obviously the biggest threat. I couldn¡¯t do anything to the other guys until I knew where he was. I had to hit him first, had to make sure he couldn¡¯t jump me from behind or whatever, cuz between his strength (I¡¯d seen reports of him hoisting a truck over his head) and his electricity powers, that would be bad.


    Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t see the guy anywhere. As I stayed low and quickly scanned the whole scene, he didn¡¯t appear. I was pretty sure it would have been hard to miss a guy his size, wearing that helmet and gauntlets. But he wasn¡¯t anywhere. Not out here, at least. Did that mean he was in one of the shops? There was no way he would¡¯ve taken off already, right?


    Even as I was wondering all of that, and trying to figure out what I was going to do to track him down before this all got too out of control, there was a blast of what sounded like thunder coming from directly below me. My gaze snapped to the roof under my feet, and I managed a snapped, ¡°Well, that doesn¡¯t sound good,¡± before the air was filled with sound again. That time, it was the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass, also from below me but slightly ahead.


    A figure was hurled through the window just under me. I barely caught a glimpse of bright metal¨Carmor of some sort? Whatever it was, the shape went flying through the window, screaming the whole way before sprawling out onto the ground before I could even think of moving. They were holding a bat and a whip, but even as my gaze took that in, I saw both weapons shift and transform to¡­ marbles? They looked like marbles. What the hell?


    Now I had a better look at the figure. They were female, that much was clear. Not to mention young. My age maybe? Either way, she wore a gold chestplate with black highlights, while the rest of the armor across her arms and legs was the opposite, black with gold highlights. She also wore a white helmet and a purple cloak. The whole armor set, including the cloak, gleamed and shone brilliantly with what seemed like some kind of minor inner glow. They were a knight in shining armor, quite literally.


    While I was still trying to process all of that, there was a much louder crash below me. Juice. Hey, I found him. The huge man had hurled himself through the wall and landed easily a little bit away from the metal-armored figure. I heard his voice even from the roof. ¡°Still ticking, huh?¡± He chuckled, sounding awful and evil as he slammed his electricity-covered fist into his other palm. ¡°Good, let¡¯s have some fun.¡±


    Right, so¡­ I supposed it wasn¡¯t hard to figure out which side the armored girl was on. Whether she was part of the Ninety-Niners or not, I wasn¡¯t sure. I¡¯d never seen or heard of her before.


    But now, all that really mattered was the fact that she was in trouble. Juice wasn¡¯t exactly going to take it easy on her. His tone of voice, the way he smacked his palm eagerly, made that much clear. This guy was going to do some real damage to the armored girl if I let him.


    Thankfully, he was also intently focused on her. He had no idea I was even here, which would give me one free hit. I just had to make sure it counted. A single free shot while he was distracted.


    To that end, I checked the path between the front of the shopping center and where Juice was straightening up. Just a few Easy Eight thugs, watching with what appeared to be amusement. Oh, they¡¯d be super-amused soon. Quickly, I shot a wide blotch of red paint against the hood of the nearest of their trucks. With my other hand, I hit Juice with a blotch of red on his raised arm even as he was pointing toward the frantically-protesting armored girl, who was lying there frozen from apparent terror.


    Apparently he noticed the paint hitting him, because Juice blinked down at the red mark. ¡°What¨C¡±


    That was all he had time to say before I activated the paint. Instantly, the truck tore itself off the ground and went tumbling end over end, crashing its way through those few thugs (who dove to either side with a collection of curses). But Juice couldn¡¯t dodge. Even as the man started to dive away, the truck adjusted its trajectory. I heard a brief, belated curse (or maybe it was a threat) escape the Easy Eight lieutenant just before the truck slammed full-force into him. He was sent crashing to the ground within the wreckage. From the sound and look of it, the truck actually took the worst of that collision. But it still helped, because it put the guy on the ground at least for a moment.


    It was a moment that I put to good use. Namely, by extending a hand to shoot red paint at the still-motionless girl on the ground. She gave a yelp as I activated it, launching her up off the pavement and toward where I was standing. My hand caught hers and I pulled her onto the roof beside me. ¡°I take it these guys weren¡¯t part of the entertainment for tonight?¡±


    ¡°Paintball!¡± the girl blurted out loud. I could see her eyes through the small, open slits in the helmet. They were wide with what looked like a mixture of confusion, shock, and fear. ¡°Y-you saved¨C¡± She seemed to cut herself off, making a noise in the back of her throat as though unsure of what to say. Then her eyes shifted slightly to the side, and widened even more as she blurted, ¡°Down!¡±


    With that, she grabbed my arm, yanking herself and me both flat against the roof even as a blast of lightning went flying over our heads. It was accompanied by a bellow of anger. Apparently Juice was up. I¡¯d really been hoping getting hit by a truck would keep him down a few seconds longer.


    Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t time to focus on that. Because Juice¡¯s super-strength extended to his legs. He leapt, landing hard in the middle of the roof before pivoting to face the two of us. I could hear the snarl in his voice. ¡°Paintball. Who¡¯s your new friend?¡±


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    ¡°Uh.¡± I blinked that way while scrambling to my feet, hauling the girl herself up after me. ¡°You don¡¯t know her either, huh?¡±


    My words were met with a low chuckle. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Deicide might have reasons for playing nice, but they don¡¯t extend to me. You threw yourself into this. And me? I think you¡¯re pretty fucking annoying.¡±


    Grabbing the girl beside me by the shoulder, I adopted a scandalized tone. ¡°Dude, I think he¡¯s trying to say he won¡¯t join the Paintball fanclub! But we already have posters and hats and bye!¡± With that last word, just as Juice extended his hand to shoot a blast of lightning at us, I shoved the startled armored girl off the edge of the roof, activating the orange paint I¡¯d put there when I grabbed her arm. At the same time, I fell backward myself and activated a bit of orange on my back.


    We landed back on the ground, while the lightning shot off into the air above us. But we weren¡¯t exactly in great shape there, considering now we were surrounded by more Easy Eight thugs who had picked themselves up and realized just what was going on. Which meant they were about to open fire, so I quickly painted an orange shield across my chest while reaching out toward the armored girl to do the same.


    Except it turned out I didn¡¯t need to. Because just as four different guys started shooting, the two marble-things I¡¯d seen earlier (the ones that had been weapons before this girl dropped them) abruptly came zipping through the air, transforming into a huge pair of shields that covered the two of us from both sides. One bronze and the other silver. They were shaped like medieval kite shields or whatever. The incoming bullets just bounced off, and I heard one guy squeal as he was hit by a ricochet.


    ¡°Dude, did you do that?!¡± I quickly demanded, looking over my shoulder to the girl. She stood there, looking completely flatfooted and confused. I could see her wide eyes glancing back and forth in what amounted to a panic.


    ¡°I-I dunno!¡± she stammered. ¡°There was the orb thing and the voice and¨C¡±


    Oh shit. I¡¯d never heard of this girl because she was brand new. No wonder she didn¡¯t seem to have any idea how her power worked. And now the bad guys were closing in, deciding to go with melee weapons. Worse, Juice announced his presence by crashing to the ground, grabbing one of the hovering marble-shields, and tossing it aside with a violent curse before lunging straight at us.


    Instantly, my hand snapped out to grab the new girl, holding tight as I painted blue under our feet and activated it. The two of us were launched upward, just barely escaping the big guy¡¯s grasping arms as I shouted, ¡°No free chiropracty today, thanks!¡±


    The momentum of being launched sent us up and backward, landing toward the rear of the shopping center and sort-of out of sight behind one of those big stands with a bunch of tee-shirts for sale all over it. Slightly beyond where we were was a railing overlooking a set of stairs leading down to a secondary parking area. Already, those guys were coming, so I turned to the girl. ¡°You need to get down. Just find a corner and stay there, I¡¯ll try to deal with these guys and help the prisoners.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the girl abruptly blurted. ¡°I wanna help. I can help. I mean, I think I can.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t time to argue. Even as my mouth opened, a bolt of lightning tore through the top half of the tee-shirt stand while Juice bellowed for them to drag either us or our carcasses back over there. Between that and the running footsteps¨Cyeah. No time. So, I just spoke as quickly as I could, all in a rushed whisper. ¡°Stay low. I¡¯ll get their attention, you sneak around the side and use those fun toys of yours to free the prisoners and get them out of here. Go, go!¡± With that, I shoved her away, sending the girl falling over the railing and to the stairs below where she would hopefully be okay and ready to follow instructions.


    Either way, I didn¡¯t have time to worry about it. Because just as I did that, one of the Easy Eight guys came lunging around the side of the half-destroyed cart thing I was hiding behind. He was already shouting, raising the shotgun he was armed with before opening fire at point-blank range.


    All those pellets tore into my chest¡­ and through it, as I¡¯d already painted my torso pink. The shotgun blast literally left dozens of holes in my chest, as the man gaped briefly.


    While he was still stunned, I red-yoinked his shotgun away, painting both my arms purple before lashing out to smack the man across the face with it. He went down with a cry. Then, hearing more guys coming, I pivoted and lashed out with a kick into the destroyed sales stand to send it and all the shirts hanging up over it (whatever was left of them anyway) flying out to slam into the bulk of the group.


    ¡°Hey, Juice!¡± I called, even as my pink paint wore off (thankfully restoring my torso to pristine shape instead of leaving a bunch of little holes in me). ¡°Is that Sunny-D or plain OJ? You know no one likes the purple stuff!¡±


    Yeah, that got his attention. As if he needed even more of a push. With a growl, the big guy reached out to grab the remains of the same truck I had hit him with, pivoting to hammer throw it right at me. Immediately, I started to launch myself upward using blue paint. But the instant my feet left the ground, I saw Juice already aiming upward. He knew what I was about to do. He was anticipating it, electricity coiling around his hand and already leaping forth toward the spot where I would be.


    So, I did the only thing I could think of. I shot red paint toward the remains of the incoming truck while both it and I were in midair, and hauled myself that way. A touch of orange shielded me from the impact as I hit the bottom of the spinning truck and stuck there, while green gave me the speed I needed to pull the next part off. The boots Wren had provided kept me firmly planted to the truck while it spun end over end, and I watched as the view in front of me kept changing through those brief seconds. Thanks to my own speed from the green paint, the spinning seemed slower than it really was. I saw Juice, then the ground, then the trashed tee-shirt cart behind, then the sky, then Juice, then the ground, then the tee-shirt cart, then the sky¨Cas Juice came back around, I put blue paint beneath my feet and launched myself that way.


    He was still watching the sky where he expected me to be, his bolt of lightning already leaping from his hand and beginning to tear off toward that open space. From the corner of his eye, he saw me coming and tried to adjust, but I was a missile. A missile that flew right past the superstrong man even as he braced himself for a hit that never came.


    Instead, the instant I hit the ground right behind the man, my hands snapped up and around, touching his legs to turn them yellow. A quick activation left the man slowed to about half-speed. He was already pivoting, but I was gone, flinging myself sideways. Which left him time to see the red mark on the ground that I¡¯d left where I was.


    I had to say this for him, the dude wasn¡¯t an idiot. He knew immediately what was happening, and tried to fling himself aside as I had. But the yellow paint slowed him down just enough that the truck remains, hauled that way by the matching red mark I¡¯d left when I was perched on it as the thing spun end over end, slammed into the big guy once again.


    Even that didn¡¯t keep the guy down for long. As the rest of his men looked like they weren¡¯t sure if they wanted to be the first person I threw a truck at, Juice tore the thing apart, scrambling to his feet with a furious shout. ¡°Grab that stupid piece of shit!¡±


    Yeah, that motivated them. Even as intimidating as me yoinking a truck at them might¡¯ve been, the group was more afraid of their boss being pissed off. Which, well, was fair. I threw trucks, he tanked being hit by the damn things and tore them in half.


    Still, I definitely had their attention. While Juice and his men came rushing my way, I gave the most sarcastic and condescending wave I could manage, then used red paint to yank myself clear to the far end of the shopping center. Landing in a roll, I tried to put some green paint on for a bit more speed.


    Nothing. Fuck. I was out of paint, and the bad guys were¨Cyeah, they were coming. They were charging, weapons raised. Fortunately, they had no idea I was out of paint for the moment so they didn¡¯t bother shooting at me. Unfortunately, they¡¯d figure it out pretty soon. And even if they didn¡¯t, I couldn¡¯t exactly fight without it.


    Stall. I had to stall until the paint came back. Shoving back the sudden rush of terror, I made my body pivot and hurled myself through the open doorway of one of the shops, falling onto my side in the process. The place was a shoe store, and I quickly scrambled to my feet to rush toward the back even as Juice¡¯s voice filled the air, bellowing for them to tear the fucking place apart and drag me out.


    Right, well¡­ I had their attention. They were definitely focused on me, most of them anyway. I just hoped it was enough for the other girl to free those prisoners and get them out of here.


    Cuz, really, I¡¯d hate to have all this fun for nothing.

 Building Connections 16-03

    Time, time. I needed time for my paint to come back so that I wasn¡¯t essentially a helpless little girl facing a bunch of armed men anymore. But I also needed to make sure I kept their attention long enough for that to happen without the group noticing the other girl over by their prisoners.


    ¡°Hey, asshole!¡± The sudden shout from Juice himself made me jump, but it was coming from the front while I was already back near the stock room with several rows of shelving units in the way. ¡°Think you¡¯re getting outta here?!¡± he continued in a loud, echoing bellow. ¡°Think again! We got this fucking place surrounded! Out back and up top. It¡¯s all covered. You ain¡¯t going nowhere!¡±


    Oh boy, oh boy was it hard not to call out a retort pointing out his double-negative. I had to bite my tongue, because he was so begging for it. Apparently a consequence of dealing with all my confusion and insecurities in the middle of horrible, traumatic danger by using insults and bad jokes was that it was hard to turn that impulse off when using it was a really bad idea.


    When he was met with no response (barely), Juice gave an audible growl. I heard a blast of his electricity shoot out somewhere, though it came nowhere near where I was, currently ducked behind the last row of shoe shelves. His voice was dripping with annoyance and the promise of violence. If not to me, then to others. ¡°Get your asses moving. Drag that arrogant little brat out here.¡±


    Right, so¡­ apparently I wasn¡¯t going to have to work very hard at the ¡®keep their attention on me¡¯ plan. In fact, I was gonna go right ahead and give myself a stunning A-Plus on that assignment.


    But now what? The men were starting to move through the store, smacking shoes and boxes off the shelves, spreading out so they could cover every row, and methodically working their way toward me. The area I was in at the moment was the kid¡¯s section right before the stockroom. There were two rows of half-sized shelves sticking out perpendicular to the wall, creating a sort-of miniature boxed in area that was all kid shoes. I was currently ducked down behind the last of those shelves to stay out of sight. The stockroom door was only a few feet away, but it was in plain sight of one of the rows that I could hear one of those guys making their way down.


    Okay, my paint only needed a short time to recharge. Like a minute or two? Had it been a minute or two yet? It had to be, right? Fuck. Fuck. I had to wait as long as possible, let my tank have as much time as it could to recharge or refill or whatever the hell it did. Unfortunately, the men were almost to my spot, and I had a feeling they were starting to realize that it was the most likely place for me to be, because all of them were moving faster. Before, they had been taking the time to knock boxes around, leaning up to peer on top of the shelves, and just basically being thorough. Now, however, I heard footsteps approaching quickly, along with dangerous muttering. In a second, they were going to be right on top of me. They could peer over the half-sized shelf or come around the corner there. Then I¡¯d really be a sitting duck. I had a few seconds at best.


    Ready or not, it was time to do this. Quickly, I grabbed the nearest thing that could possibly be anything resembling a weapon. It was a Brannock Device (one of those metal measuring things you put your foot into and adjust to tell you what size shoes you should wear). With the thing in my hand, I focused. To my immeasurable relief, it turned orange. Paint was back on the menu!


    Instantly, I put the image of a large purple stick-figure man kicking someone across the front of my costume, and an orange bull head on the back. But I didn¡¯t activate them just yet. First, I waited and listened to the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. At the last possible instant, I activated all that paint both on myself and the Brannock Device, as my hand lashed forward. With a grunt, I hurled the metal measuring thing like a tomahawk or something, chucking it as hard as I could right at the space where one of the men was just coming into view. Just as it left my hand, I left a spot of red on one end of the thing while pivoting to face upward.


    The hurled metal device, spinning through the air, slammed into the face of the first guy just as he came around the corner with his gun raised. Between the orange paint keeping it intact and the strength boost from the purple paint on me, the thing hit him hard enough that he immediately collapsed with a strangled cry, hand snapping up to his suddenly-bleeding face.


    By that point, I had just started to see the head of the man right by the half-shelf I was hiding behind. My hand, still outstretched, summoned the measuring device back by activating the red paint on it and on my glove. It flew right into my grip just as the man in question leaned over, his gaze reflexively looking to where the other guy had just fallen. That head, covered in a dark ski mask, presented the perfect target for me to crack with my makeshift weapon. There was a cry from the man as he fell out of sight, gun going off to shoot a hole through one of the shelves.


    Two down. Or at least hurt enough that they weren¡¯t going to jump right back up immediately. Unfortunately, I could already hear what sounded like half a dozen more running for this spot. Not to mention the fact that Juice was still at the front.


    But I still had over half my time for the already-active paint, and I wasn¡¯t about to waste it. Shooting red paint toward the ceiling above the nearest aisle, I used it to pull myself up and over that way. Immediately, the guy there snapped his gaze up and started to shout while raising his gun. But I released the red paint, dropping down to crash into him first. We collided, my momentum knocking the man to the ground before I lashed out with a quick, somewhat-awkward backhand. It wasn¡¯t pretty or skilled, but with the purple strength, that didn¡¯t matter. The guy¡¯s head snapped back as he groaned in pain and went limp under me.


    With maybe a couple seconds left on my current paint, at best, I pivoted to put my feet against the row of shelves, then shoved as hard as my enhanced strength would let me. There was a loud, protesting groan, then a violent snapping sound as the shelf broke. It tipped over sideways, collapsing into the next aisle over. As it went down, the shelf hit the one next to it, knocking that one over, and so on like dominoes. I could hear yelps and curses from the guys in each aisle.


    ¡°God damn it, you useless motherfuckers!¡± I heard Juice shout from the front even as he started to move, finally coming fully into the store himself. ¡°Can¡¯t you do one goddamn thing right?!¡±


    Taking a breath, I used blue paint to launch myself up to the ceiling, inverting so the shoes would hold me there, in plain sight. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t blame them, a good manager takes responsibility for his employees!¡±


    With a snarl, the big guy lashed out, sending a bolt of lightning. But I was already moving before I¡¯d even finished saying that, throwing myself sideways along the ceiling (which was more like a floor for me at the moment, thanks to Wren¡¯s work). I was also still talking, blurting out a quick, ¡°Maybe you guys just need a team-building exercise!¡±


    Another bolt of lightning came my way. Also, a large rack of sports shoes, which the man hurled with his other hand while bellowing about what he was going to do when he put his hands on me. Honestly, none of it sounded very pleasant.


    But again, I was quicker, launching myself straight down toward the floor. Or rather, toward one of the overturned shelves, just as the electricity and hurled metal rack hit the spot where I had been. Shoes rained down all around me, while the rack itself landed in a crumpled heap a bit to the side.


    ¡°Seriously,¡± I called while quickly scrambling on my hands and knees over the rows of shelves, ¡°I hear those retreats do a lot of good for building rapport between boss and employees!¡± Putting blue paint under my feet while still scrambling, I launched myself forward and up, shooting another puddle of blue at the wall ahead of me just as yet another blast of electricity hit where I had just been. Hitting that blue spot, I rebounded backwards off it to fly over Juice¡¯s head, landing in a roll behind him as he spun back toward me. But just before he could try to hit me from point-blank range, I snapped a quick, ¡°How ¡®bout we start with a trust fall?¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    With that, I activated the red paint I¡¯d stuck to his back while flying over him, as well as one of the bits of red I¡¯d left on the shelving unit I¡¯d been scrambling over. Instead of pulling the shelf to him, however, I sent him flying backward, yanked up and over to crash down onto his back against the shelf.


    ¡°I think it¡¯ll really lift your stocks!¡± I shouted, while activating the other bit of red paint I¡¯d left on the shelf he was lying on, as well as its matching spot on the ceiling. The shelf flew upward, slamming full-force into the ceiling with the man lying on it.


    Right, now the rest of his men in here were starting to pull themselves out. Plus, I could hear crashing and banging in the ceiling above where the guy was pinned, while chunks of the shelving unit started snapping and falling. He was breaking out, and it definitely wasn¡¯t going to take long. These shelves weren¡¯t exactly built to contain a guy like that. Not to mention the fact that he sounded seriously pissed off. Between this guy and Janus, I was just racking up friends on the Easy Eights. With my luck, they¡¯d find Cu¨¦lebre and the whole group would form a club dedicated to making my whole existence a living hell. Because that was just how these things seemed to work.


    But, oh well. I would have to deal with that later. Right now, I shot several quick bursts of red at the remaining shelving units and one spot at the floor right in front of the doorway. Seeing several of the men scrambling toward me and shouting, I pivoted and threw myself through that doorway while activating all the paint. Instantly, I heard a cacophony of bangs and crashes as the shelves all flew to block the door I had just gone through. Hopefully, I hit a couple guys in the process. But right now all I cared about was slowing them down for a few seconds. Even if they just went through the back door, it was still something. Every little bit helped.


    For the moment, I pivoted, coming face-to-face with a bad guy who looked completely surprised to see me there. He was just coming around the corner of the shop, through a narrow path that ran between the buildings. His gun was held loosely at one side, and he started to bring it up belatedly. But I reacted faster, quickly lunging that way while painting purple on my gloves and activating it so I could rip the gun from his grasp, then simply shove the guy hard in the chest. He hit the ground and I jumped over him. There wasn¡¯t time for any of this. Hurling the pistol as far as I could to the side, I sprinted back toward where the prisoners had been.


    Had been being the thankfully operative words, because all I saw as I reached that point were two of the Easy Eight thugs laying on the ground, groaning in pain. The civilians were all gone. Well, mostly gone. Looking up, I saw a few of them disappearing off across the street or rounding the corners of the other buildings. The point was, they had escaped. Thank God.


    Or rather, thank whoever the girl in the armor was. Because she was clearly the one who¨C


    ¡°Paintball!¡± Speaking of whom, the girl herself suddenly jumped out from behind the overturned cart where she had apparently been hiding. ¡°Are you okay? What happened in th¨C¡±


    Abruptly, the girl was interrupted by a loud crack of thunder and power as the front of the shoe store was blasted apart by a burst of lightning. The enraged Juice came into view, head snapping our way immediately as a violent curse erupted from him. Yeah, he was not happy.


    ¡°Oh, you know,¡± I managed, reaching out to grab the girl with both hands while turning my shoes blue to launch both of us upward. ¡°Just did a little browsing!¡± As we rocketed upward, the next shot of lightning passed right where we had been. I aimed for the roof of the nearest shop, and we came down there, tumbling just past an air conditioning unit with a pair of yelps.


    Lying there on my side, I looked over to where the other girl was sprawled. Somehow, the helmet had stayed in place. But just as my mouth opened to say something, I heard a bellow from below. Eyes widening, I blurted, ¡°Move!¡± and shoved her away. Then I quickly rolled the opposite direction, scrambling to get out of the way.


    It was just in time, as Juice landed right where we had been. His hands lashed out to grab both of us, but he missed by inches. ¡°You wanna fuck up my night, huh, assholes?! This whole thing would have been smooth. Use the civvies to keep the cops back long enough to bust up everything the fucking Niners have in this place, then let ¡®em go. They would¡¯ve been fine. But no! No, of course not. You stupid fucks have to jump in and play hero so you can ruin everything!¡±


    On my feet, I quickly spoke up to draw his attention and ire. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re having a bad night. We could always call it a draw. You go home, we go home, all of us just rethink our lives and choices? What do you think?¡±


    Apparently he thought ¡®zap¡¯, because the man pivoted to throw a bolt of electricity at me with a snarl. I¡¯d already anticipated, and activated a pair of green wings on my back. They made me fast enough to dive out of the way. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t quick enough to dodge the second bolt that he sent right to where I was diving, having anticipated the move.


    It was only a brief hit, a graze really. But it was enough. The electricity hit me, and drew a sharp cry of pain. Suddenly, my whole body seized up. I hit the ground and spasmed. In the background, I heard a girl¡¯s voice shout, ¡°Get away from him!¡± Then there was a grunt of surprise, and a large shape was flung over me. Opening my eyes, I saw¡­ well, first I saw a bunch of static on the screen where my heads-up display was supposed to go. But it cleared up a second later. More importantly, Juice was on the ground, while an enormous silver, bronze, violet, and black battering ram was hovering in the air just in front of him. It was about as big as a car, the colors spread throughout it in a tie-dye pattern. The armored girl was standing back a bit, arms outstretched. Her armor no longer had black in it, and looked a bit thinner. The purple cloak was gone too. Wait, purple cloak was gone, black part of the armor was gone, and now the previous silver and bronze transforming marbles had been joined by those two specific colors? Right, duh, the armor was made up of the same marbles as the weapons. Yeah, that made sense. Not like she¡¯d had time to go grab a costume in the ten seconds since she¡¯d gotten her powers. Convenient, really. Also explained how her helmet had stayed on before.


    In any case, apparently both of those marbles that had been a part of her armor and the cloak had helped form the massive battering ram that hit Juice hard enough to knock him clear across the roof and left him lying there looking dazed. Which was just fine with me, because I was still feeling pretty dazed too.


    Armored girl, however, wasn¡¯t dazed. She was more along the lines of pissed off. Her hands swept out to either side. With that motion, the battering ram split apart too. It broke into two half-sized pieces. One was black and purple, the other silver and bronze. Those two pieces instantly shaped themselves into a pair of enormous glowing boxing gloves of those respective colors. Each was about the same size as the big guy himself. Then, as the girl slammed her own fists together with a loud, ringing metal clang from her armored gauntlets colliding, the huge, glowing boxing gloves did the same, slamming into one another. Or rather, into either side of Juice. They collided with the big guy hard enough just as he was picking himself up that he fell right back down again, actually bleeding and bruised.


    Immediately, the girl made a quick twisting motion with her hands. The two boxing gloves actually scooped up the man and held him tight, cupped around him. Then she pivoted, making a wide throwing gesture. As she did so, the cupped gloves flew up a good thirty feet and forward another twenty before abruptly disappearing. But Juice¡¯s momentum didn¡¯t disappear. The man was sent flying clear off into the distance, sailing over at least two different buildings before crashing down somewhere a couple blocks away.


    As it turned out, the giant gloves didn¡¯t disappear. They simply turned back into four colored marbles, all of which flew back to hover around the girl herself like obedient puppies waiting to be praised.


    Looking down, I murmured under my breath, ¡°Test, test¡­¡± Then I breathed a sigh of relief. My voice changer was still working after being shocked. I hadn¡¯t been hit nearly as hard as I had with Cu¨¦lebre''s own lightning.


    ¡°What?¡± the other girl was asking as she turned to me. Already, I saw the white from her helmet had sort of half-melted down into the rest of the armor as though to reinforce it.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I quickly replied, shaking my head. ¡°But¨Cdude, that was amazing. What¨Chow did¨Cwow.¡±


    ¡°Ummm, I¡­¡± Trailing off, the girl squirmed on her feet. ¡°I think¨C¡± Just then, she was interrupted by the sound of loud sirens and the sight of a dozen cop cars roaring up. Seeing that, she blurted, ¡°Oh God! I¡¯ve gotta get out of here!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked that way. ¡°Are you like¡­ wanted, or¨C¡±


    ¡°No!¡± she interrupted, sounding panicked. ¡°It¡¯s my mom!


    ¡°If she finds out about this, she won¡¯t let me out of the house for a year!¡±

 Building Connections 16-04 And Patreon Snippets 9

    So, after a very quick detour to grab the girl¡¯s phone from where she had apparently dropped it, I helped her get away from that scene. She was freaking out about needing to go home before her mother found out what she was involved in, but waited at least long enough for me to give her my number to stay in contact. There was a moment after that where it looked like she was going to say something important. She looked at me awhand I saw uncertainty in her eyes, visible through the helmet. But in the end, she just shook her head and promised to text eventually.


    Then, with the sound of sirens still filling the air as more Emergency Services arrived, she took off running out of the alley we were in. For a moment, I stood there and watched her leave before shaking my head. What was I going to do when she did call? Should I point her toward the Minority? What if she asked what I thought of them? What was I supposed to say to that? I didn¡¯t even know this girl at all. I couldn¡¯t just start telling her about the Ministry and all that shit. Even if she was a good person, which I didn¡¯t really know at all (though risking her life to help those hostages was a really good indicator, to be fair), I still didn¡¯t know how she might react to the actual truth. I had no idea how good she was at keeping a secret, especially not one that huge. Or if she would even want to. For all I knew, she would see the Ministry as a great thing and immediately side with them. I really had no idea what would happen if I told her the truth.


    Right, sigh. So, at the moment I had absolutely no idea what to do about the girl. Which was an ongoing theme. Hopefully, I would think of something useful and stop being so indecisive before she called. But for now, I needed to put it aside and focus on other things. Important things, like-


    ¡°So, who¡¯s the chick with the sweet armor?¡±


    Taken completely by surprise when the voice behind me suddenly spoke up, I spun that way to see a different armored figure standing over by the nearby dumpster. Of course, I immediately recognized her. ¡°Broadway?¡± I found myself blurting the La Casa Touched¡¯s name. Suddenly, I couldn¡¯t decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing. I wasn¡¯t exactly as close with her as I was with Pack, and the lizard-controlling girl didn¡¯t seem to be anywhere nearby. I didn¡¯t know Broadway at all, though the fact that she had helped save me from Pencil was about a million points in her favor. So I wasn¡¯t exactly on my guard. But I wasn¡¯t relaxed either.


    She, in turn, actually giggled at my reaction, taking a moment before speaking again. A moment which gave me time to take her in a bit more fully. As always, Broadway wore dark-purple armor with white speaker system vents all over it. Her helmet was the same color purple, with three vertical speaker vents where the girl¡¯s ears would be, angled forward. There was a wide V-shaped visor over the face part of the helmet, where a series of bright, multi-colored lines bounced back and forth in rhythm with the words whenever she actually spoke.


    ¡°You know her name?¡± the girl asked, making those lines dance with her words. ¡°Tell me she¡¯s got a name¨Cwait, no, if she doesn¡¯t it¡¯ll be cool to come up with a good La Casa name for her.¡±


    Squinting at her, I shook my head. ¡°She¡¯s not joining La Casa, or any other gang. She just helped stop your allies from holding hostages over there, you know.¡± I gestured back toward the shopping center with those words. ¡°And hey, speaking of which, since I was just fighting them, shouldn¡¯t you be like¡­ swearing vengeance or starting some kind of brawl or whatever?¡±


    ¡°Meh,¡± she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, sounding fairly bored. ¡°Whatever. I mean, Easy Eights and us, we¡¯re basically allies in the sense that¡­ Churchill and Stalin were allies? The slightly lesser asshole of the bigger asshole is my asshole. Or something like that.¡±


    ¡°You know, Stalin killed an awful lot of people before he was done,¡± I pointed out flatly.


    ¡°True,¡± the girl agreed, head tilting just a little as she looked at me. ¡°The point is, I wouldn¡¯t say we¡¯re exactly friends. And personally, I definitely don¡¯t care what you did to stop them from whatever the hell that was. I¡¯m more in this whole thing for the fun, the rush, you know? Not taking hostages and hurting people.¡±


    For a moment, I just stared at her. ¡°You really think your boss doesn¡¯t hurt people just like these guys were? Cuz I¡¯ve got news for you, he definitely takes hostages too. He steals from innocent people, and innocent people get hurt because of things he does. Just because he¡¯s more¨CI dunno, classy and cool about it doesn¡¯t make him some upstanding figure or anything.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fair,¡± the girl easily agreed. ¡°Never said we were great people or anything. But there¡¯s like¡­ levels of that shit. The people I work with try to avoid putting civilians in unnecessary danger, though scaring them¡¯s a bit fun. We don¡¯t go out of our way to kill and torture anybody, and most of the shit we take is insured stuff from businesses anyway. You don¡¯t see me mugging old ladies on the street, do you? Hell no. You can call it petty justification or whatever, but the way I see it, capitalism is a fucking failure that just makes the rich get richer and stomps on the poor. Anything I can do to fuck with that system and have a little fun while I¡¯m at it is fine with me.¡± She pointed to her own armored chest then. ¡°I¡¯m not a hero, never claimed to be anything of the sort. But I¡¯ve got my own standards, and I stick with them. Blackjack, he¡¯s got standards too. He keeps his word, he lets us refuse jobs that make us uncomfortable, he doesn¡¯t intentionally go after innocent civilians or target people like that. And right now, he¡¯s fighting a war to deal with people who tried to let his kid die. Gotta say, I¡¯m totally onboard with that. You would be too, if you ever met the kid.¡±


    ¡°Of course I want the people who almost got Blackjack¡¯s daughter killed to be brought to justice,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Not just for that, but for everything else they¡¯ve done too. But if your boss really wants them to pay, he could just work with¡­¡± Then I trailed off. He could work with who? The authorities? I knew the truth. The Ministry would only allow Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners to be brought to justice if it worked for their bottom line. They were allowing this war to happen, probably because doing so would keep Blackjack on their side. But that didn¡¯t mean they¡¯d just let the cops actually put them all away. I had a feeling that whatever came out of this war, my parents and their business would somehow end up in an even better position than before.


    Broadway, arms folded across her chest, had clearly noticed the way I trailed off. But she didn¡¯t actually address it. Instead, the girl offered me a simple shrug. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. I chose my side and I stick with it. You, on the other hand, seem really confused about where you want to be. You won¡¯t join the Minority or any of the other heroes, and you helped my boss get those vials. You¡¯re even like¡­ sort of friends with good ol¡¯ Pack. But you won¡¯t join us either. You¡¯re right in the middle of this whole thing, you know? Whose side are you really on?¡±


    For a moment, I was silent. Then I let out a breath and looked back to her to reply firmly, ¡°I¡¯m on whatever side protects innocent people at the time. The rest of this, I don¡¯t¨CI don¡¯t know. Sometimes the Star-Touched are right, sometimes the Fell-Touched are. It¡¯d help if¨C¡± Again, I stopped myself. Fuck. I couldn¡¯t say ¡®if the Ministry wasn¡¯t a thing.¡¯ Instead, I ended that with, ¡°It¡¯d help if it was actually simple. But it¡¯s not.¡±


    Broadway pointed at me. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s the smartest thing I¡¯ve heard you say. You¡¯re right, it¡¯s complicated. But just to be clear, I¡¯m still a bad guy most of the time. And I¡¯m okay with that. I steal some things, break other things, piss people off, and you know what? I have one hell of a fun time doing it. I think you could have a lot of fun too if you just let go a bit.¡±


    My eyes, hidden behind the helmet, narrowed. ¡°Were you here trying to recruit me, or that new girl?¡±


    I could hear the grin in her voice. ¡°Hey, whatever works. I wouldn¡¯t mind getting a two-for-one deal.¡± She paused then, watching me for a moment before adding, ¡°Does this mean you¡¯re not giving me her number or name?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have either,¡± I retorted honestly. ¡°She¡¯s brand¨Cnever mind. You know, we¡¯re probably supposed to be fighting right now or something.¡±


    ¡°You saying you wanna wrestle?¡± came her response with obvious amusement. ¡°Sorry, buddy, I think I¡¯m a little too old for you.¡± With that, she held out both hands to either side. ¡°Actually, to be honest, I mostly came over to make sure you were okay. For Pack¡¯s sake. She likes you. But not like that, don¡¯t get any ideas. She¡¯s more into That-A-Way, if you get my drift. Though that was less drifting and more plowing straight through the wall.¡±


    That-A-Way and Pack. They were¨Coh right. Blinking at that, I started to say something before catching myself. There was no reaction I could have that wouldn¡¯t either just amuse her or give the girl way too much information. Instead, I just managed a slightly weak, ¡°I¡¯ll uhh, keep that in mind, thanks, I guess. But you¡¯re still not gonna recruit that girl.¡±


    That earned me a thumbs up. ¡°We¡¯ll see, PB. It¡¯ll be fun to find out where she ends up. And hey, glad to see those guys didn¡¯t rough you up too bad. I¡¯ll let Pack know you¡¯re cool.¡±


    With that, she gave me a salute, then pointed up and over my head to the roof of the nearby building. The sound of a dog barking came from her armored gauntlet, as the girl vanished, teleporting along the soundwaves.


    Which left me standing there, belatedly realizing that one of the phones in my pocket had gone off a couple times already. Quickly, I took it out to check. It was the Touched phone, with messages from Wren wanting to know if everything was okay now since she¡¯d been watching reports online about what was going on. There was an adorably rambling bit about how she didn¡¯t want to send any message while I was busy fighting bad guys but now the news said the fight was over but wasn¡¯t saying anything about me so was I really okay and what happened, etc. It was a pretty long run-on sentence which ended with, ¡®PLZ CALL PLZ¡¯ and then a series of hugging bear emojis. So yeah, pretty freaking adorable.


    Of course, how could I make her keep worrying? I had to let her and the others know I was okay. But first, I used red paint to pull myself up to the roof of another building (different from the one Broadway had used), looking around to make sure I was alone. Only once I was satisfied did I hit the button on the phone to connect with Wren¡¯s, using the bluetooth in my ear rather than the actual phone itself for the conversation.


    ¡°Paintball?!¡± came the blurted word after the phone had gone for like¡­ half a ring.


    ¡°Hey, kid,¡± I quickly confirmed. ¡°Everything¡¯s fine. I¡¯m on my way. How¡¯re my new friends doing?¡±


    There was a very brief pause at that before the girl¡¯s voice returned, sounding just a little scolding. ¡°They were really surprised when we met them.¡±


    Snorting despite myself at the thought of those two finding out just who their boss was, I admitted, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sorry I missed it. Anyway, things are good here. I¡¯ll be at the store in just a few minutes. Everything okay besides that little surprise?¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    She confirmed that things were chill there, and I disconnected before heading off. Time to pick up the pace a bit. I still had about an hour before I needed to head home for family dinner, but still, I definitely wanted to at least say more than two words to the people who were supposed to be helping Wren. Especially now that they knew just who they were going to be working for.


    Again, I was really sad that I¡¯d missed that reaction.


    In any case, I managed to make it back to Wren¡¯s shop in record time, even with taking a short loop to make sure no one was following me. Then I moved to the back door and hit the buzzer to be let in. The moment I did, Wren was right there, wanting to know everything that had happened. Behind her, I saw Murphy and Roald watching the whole thing from next to one of the shelves full of random junk in the middle of the main pawnshop floor. It looked like they had already been set to work organizing things. Which was almost unfair, given how chaotic the whole shop was. It was definitely a job that would take awhile.


    So, for all three of their benefits (as well as Fred¡¯s, as the man came downstairs just after the start), I explained everything that had happened, including meeting the new girl. It was during that part that Murphy finally piped up. ¡°So that girl just got her powers because those fucks attacked the place she was shopping at?¡±


    Pausing, I shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s what it seems like, yeah. She definitely wasn¡¯t used to them, that¡¯s for sure. She didn¡¯t have a name or anything. But she¡¯s got my number, so hopefully she¡¯ll call back.¡±


    ¡°You gonna tell her to go to the Minority?¡± That was Roald, his voice sounding curious. Belatedly, I realized he was also curious about why I myself hadn¡¯t gone there. Apparently everybody wanted to know that these days. Either way, it was a fairly clever way of getting around outright asking the obvious question, and I gave the boy a brief, appraising look.


    Before I could respond, however, Wren piped up. ¡°You should tell her to join our team! We don¡¯t need no Minority! She can be with us.¡± Giving me a dual thumbs-up, the girl added, ¡°Besides, you said she was afraid of her mom finding out about it, right? If she goes to the Minority, they have to tell her parents. If she comes here, we don¡¯t. Plus, we get another person on our team. See? Perfect plan.¡±


    ¡°We have a team now?¡± I asked, watching the girl.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s either a team or a gang,¡± Wren pointed out. ¡°Team sounds better. I mean, you already have minions!¡± She flailed both hands randomly back toward the other two.


    ¡°Oh my God, they¡¯re not minions!¡± I insisted with a groan.


    Wren, of course, chose that moment to pivot back that way and demanded, ¡°Guys, what are you?¡±


    That, of course, made Murphy and Roald look at each other. There was a moment of mostly-silent conversation with a few muttered words before both turned back and nodded, the girl speaking. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re minions.¡±


    ¡°Cool with that,¡± Roald confirmed. ¡°Long as you don¡¯t make us wear blue overalls and speak gibberish.¡±


    ¡°And become weirdly associated with incredibly stupid antivax mothers on the internet,¡± Murphy added.


    ¡°I¡¯ll uhh, do my best not to let that happen,¡± I managed with a soft cough, shaking my head. ¡°But seriously, you guys are just¨CI mean¡­ I¡¯m not gonna¨Clook, you¡¯re here to help and I appreciate that. Seriously. You¡¯ll get paid just to work here in the store, not to go out and get in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± Murphy replied. ¡°You want help, we can help. Better than stealing shit and going hungry. Or ending up in jail. Or dead.¡±


    ¡°She means there¡¯s a lot worse options than playing minio¨Cassistants to a superhero,¡± Roald added. ¡°We get paid here, we get to work without involving drugs or hurting people, it¡¯s¡­¡± He paused, seeming to search for the right words before settling on, ¡°It¡¯s cool.¡±


    ¡°Really cool,¡± Murphy put in. ¡°If you need more than just some clean-up and shelf stocking, you let us know. Seriously, we don¡¯t have like¨Cyou know, powers or anything, but we can do other things. Whatever you need. We¨Cuhh¡­¡± She kicked the floor, suddenly looking self-conscious. ¡°We wanna help.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but¡­ I¡¯m still not gonna put you guys in any more danger than I have to,¡± I insisted. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here and willing to do stuff, but just¡­ just focus on helping Wren.¡±


    We talked a little more, I promised to let them know if I needed more help and about what happened with the newly-Touched girl. Then it was about time to head home for dinner. But first, I went upstairs to see the still comatose Paige.


    Standing by the motionless figure, I hesitated, putting my hand in hers and squeezing it. ¡°Sorry this is taking so long,¡± I murmured, unsure if she had any idea I was even there, let alone speaking. ¡°But I swear, we¡¯ll find the right person. I¡¯ll find whatever we need to fix you and wake you up. Just hold on a bit longer, okay?¡± Then I snorted. ¡°What do I mean, hold on? You¡¯re just taking a little nap, right? You probably won¡¯t even know any time has passed by the time we turn yo¨Cby the time we wake you up.¡±


    Still, standing there, staring at the girl, I couldn¡¯t help but feel like I was failing. She was counting on me and I was failing. It felt like there was a time limit, like¡­ like there was some bomb counting down and if it hit zero, everything would¡­ what, explode?


    I didn¡¯t know. But one thing was for certain. We needed to help Paige and wake her up as soon as possible. Maybe then the awful feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach whenever I looked at her lying unconscious like that would go away. At the very least, it would be nice to scratch one damn thing off my to-do list.


    And hey, at least my whole encounter with the new girl and that conversation with Broadway were two more examples of how I was gradually building connections in this city.


    Wait a second.


    Hold up.


    I was building connections¡­ I had built more connections¡­ made¡­ connections.


    That was it. I had an idea.


    I knew how we were going to break into that base under the mall.


    Patreon Snippets 19B ¨C Lightning Bug


    ¡°C¡¯mon, c¡¯mon guys, we gotta go to bed in a hour! That¡¯s like¨Cthat¡¯s a, that¡¯s less than a movie. That¡¯s like half a Frozen. They didna even make it to the ice castle in half a Frozen!¡±


    The blurted, rushed words in the doorway of the brightly lit room heralded the arrival of what was quite possibly one of the strangest-looking Conga lines in anyone¡¯s memory. At the head, and the one speaking, was the small, red-skinned five-year-old girl with long white hair, too-large compound blue eyes, and insect-like wings. Her arms were outstretched to hold onto a truly massive (relative to her size) bowl full of popcorn. The bowl was decorated with images of fairies flying through some trees, surrounded by various insects. It was known as the Bug Bowl, the closest thing they had to something that showed the girl and her friends, with the fairies standing in as images of Lightning Bug herself. Despite its size, the girl ate all of her snacks and treats out of it, along with some of her meals, even when they only filled a very small portion of the actual bowl. While her arms were full of the bowl, in one hand she also carried her ¡®Bug Cup¡¯, a bright blue sippy cup with a lid shaped like a ladybug.


    Behind the bowl and cup-bearing girl came the rest of their strange Conga line in the form of the five-and-a-half foot tall praying mantis named Simminin (Or Cinnamon), the three-foot-tall emerald-green beetle named Snugglebug, and then much smaller (but still relatively enormous) cat-sized and metallic purple-colored Orchid bee named Kenobee bringing up the rear.


    The room they entered together was the entertainment room of the penthouse apartment where Bug and her mommy lived with Aunt Hana. The room had a massive flatscreen television that was hung up in the middle of the wall, surrounded by a big couch and several chairs. There were even several video game systems set up on the nearby shelf. But Bug and her companions ignored all of that, instead moving to the other corner of the room, where several fluffy cushions and a couple beanbag chairs lay haphazardly around a second television that was set close to the floor. A plastic table nearby held various half-finished crayon drawings, a few toys, and a computer pad covered by a shock-proof plastic shield with large, colorful designs.


    Plopping herself down on one of the bean bags while her trio of insect friends spread out to perch themselves around her on various cushions, Lightning Bug carefully settled the bowl in her lap and put the cup on the nearby table. Then she picked up the computer pad and tapped it a few times. As she did so, the screen of the nearby television popped on to display the YouTube homepage. From there, Bug typed in her search request very carefully, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she painstakingly typed the right letters while sounding them out. Partway through, she turned a bit in her seat and called loudly toward the doorway. ¡°Mommy, what¡¯s the letter for T?! Tuh Tee Tuh Tee.¡± She giggled then, happily repeating the sounds to herself to the point that she nearly forgot what it was she was actually asking.


    A moment later, her mother appeared in the doorway. Out of her public-people costume, Bug¡¯s mother was an Asian-American woman of mixed descent, with short, close-cropped black hair and a faint, barely visible scar across one side of her face, from her cheek, over her right eye, and up to her forehead. She held her phone in one hand, telling whoever was on the other end to hold a moment. ¡°T, Buggy? Hold up the pointing finger.¡± As her daughter did so, holding up an index finger, she added, ¡°Now put the other pointing finger on top.¡± A fond chuckle escaped the woman as the young girl put the tip of her other finger against the tip of the first, so they were pointing to each other. ¡°Good try, other way, see? Sideways. There you go!¡± She smiled when the girl got it right. ¡°Like that. You see it? The T looks like¨Cyup, good job!¡±


    While her mother went back to the call, Bug finished typing in her search request, then scrolled her finger along the screen of the pad while watching the television until she found the video she wanted. It took a couple tries, but eventually she got it. ¡°Oh, oh, this is a good one! It¡¯s really funny.¡± With that promise to her trio of insect friends (all of whom were watching the screen with far more understanding and intelligence than should have been possible), she started to hit play, only to be stopped as Simminin bumped one claw gently against her arm, somehow managing to look beseechingly at her.


    ¡°Oh! Sorry, guys.¡± Quickly, the young girl reached into the big bowl in her lap. She began producing several smaller bowls that had been stacked up inside it. The first, which she set it down in front of Simminin herself, was full of small dead crickets. The second, placed in front of the cushion where Snugglebug had draped himself, had seeds, bits of leaves, pieces of dry fruit, and some honey mixed in. Finally, the bowl she put in front of Kenobee¡¯s perched form held a sugar-nectar mix, which the bee immediately stuck his face up against to start slurping from.


    Now all her friends had their respective treats, Bug took a handful of popcorn out of the bowl for herself, then hit play on the computer pad while shoveling the snack into her own mouth.


    Immediately, a video about Paintball started up. She¡¯d seen it before, of course, but this one was one of her absolute favorites. It was a combination of scenes from people¡¯s phones and the news all about Mr. Ball jumping and flying through the air, and making bad guys look dumb. The music in the video came from one of the Super Mario Brothers games, and whoever made it put in the Mario jumping sound effect whenever Paintball bounced around, along with various ¡®jump on an enemy¡¯ sounds when bad guys were hit. It was funny every time, and Bug was quickly doubled over in the seat, laughing so much her mother poked her head in once or twice to make sure she was okay.


    For most of the hour she had before her bedtime, Lightning Bug watched more videos, alternately bouncing in her beanbag chair and hovering above it with her rapidly beating wings. The videos weren¡¯t all about Paintball. Some of them were about Aunt Hana or Mommy. Or other people. But the Paintball ones were her favorites. There was just something about the colorful, bouncy Star-Touched that made for fun videos. Some of the videos were mean, like with the dumb guys who said Paintball should stop being selfish and join a team. She turned those ones off really quick.


    In the midst of watching another of the fun ones, Bug pointed. ¡°Look!¡± she blurted, as though her insect trio¡¯s eyes weren¡¯t already firmly fixated on the screen, ¡°it¡¯s Mr. Lucent!¡±


    Sure enough, on that particular video, someone had captured the image of Lucent the Touched-Raven perched on a lamppost as he watched Paintball jumping through the air in the distance. The video, taken from the high-up balcony of a hotel room, went on to show Lucent follow Paintball for a short distance, before diving away into an alley. From there, the video switched to showing various scenes of Paintball and Lucent each fighting criminals at different times (none of them together, but the video made it look like they were), while a song about fathers and sons played.


    Eventually, Bug¡¯s time with the videos ended as her mother called that it was time for her bath. Finishing the last of the juice from her cup, the girl hit the button on the pad to turn off the TV before pushing herself up. ¡°C¡¯mon, you can help Mommy!¡± she announced while starting to leave.


    It was fun watching videos about Paintball. Bug really hoped she would visit again soon and make more pretty designs for her friends.


    He. She hoped he would visit again soon, Lightning Bug told herself sternly. He, he, he. She had to make herself think of Paintball as a he.


    After all, she wasn¡¯t supposed to give away people¡¯s secrets.

 Building Connections 16-05

    Throughout the entire trip to get home, the plan that had popped into my head back at Wren¡¯s was still bouncing around in there. It seemed entirely too simple and obvious on the face of it, yet was that a bad thing? Being simple meant it was harder to fuck up, and it still might actually work. Assuming, well, everything on a long list of ways it could go wrong didn¡¯t happen.


    Still, I didn¡¯t exactly have time to dwell on any of that, considering that by the time I finally made it to the house, it was barely a few minutes before I would¡¯ve been late for family dinner. If that had happened, I probably wouldn¡¯t need to worry about this break-in plan (or any of the other myriad dangers I kept walking into) getting me killed, considering Mom would¡¯ve done it herself.


    Okay, that was an exaggeration. Mom wasn¡¯t going to freak out just because someone was a minute or two late. She had some more chill than that. But still, she did take this stuff seriously. Family dinner was important. And the last thing I wanted was for Mom to start paying more attention to where I was and what I was doing. If I was late, she¡¯d start wondering why I was late. Which felt like a really good (terrible) way to end up having my secrets exposed. No, best to always be where Mom wanted me to be when she wanted me to be there, to avoid questions.


    After sneaking back inside and dumping my costume in its hiding place under the floorboards of my closet, I gave myself a quick pat-down. Good, good, I was good. No costume, nothing that could stand out and give me away. Satisfied, I checked the clock on the wall. Fuck, two minutes left. Which meant I¡¯d already missed the warning chimes and flickering lights that were supposed to tell me it was time for dinner. Right, this was cutting it very close.


    Grimacing, I sprinted out, heading down the hall and past a couple of the house staff (who casually stepped out of the way as I passed, one even calling out encouragement for me to hurry), sliding down the main stairway bannister before finally dashing right to the dining room.


    Stopping outside the doors, I took a breath and checked the nearby tall, antique clock. Ten seconds. Exhaling, I made sure it didn¡¯t look like I was panicked, then opened the doors and stepped through barely a moment before that tall clock outside announced the hour.


    Everyone else was already there, of course. Mom, Dad, Izzy, and Simon were waiting at their spots. They all looked up as I came in, but waited until I had come to the table before speaking.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡± Dad asked in a thankfully casual tone. Wait, was casual bad? Was he being intentionally casual? Did he know something? Was this a trap? Did he¨Cdid they know what¨CGod damn it, get a grip, Cassidy. He¡¯s just making conversation because you barely made it. It¡¯s fine.


    ¡°Just fine,¡± I immediately forced myself to reply. My hand (as I somehow managed to make it stop shaking) picked up the glass of water before taking a sip. ¡°Why, what¡¯s up?¡± Fuck, was my voice calm enough? Should it be less calm? Did I sound like a robot? Was something else wrong that I should¡¯ve known about and been upset by? Was fine the wrong answer?!


    ¡°Whatever.¡± That was Simon, already changing the subject as he focused on our parents. ¡°I talked to that guy from Montreal today. He said they¡¯ll be ready for the trip next month.¡±


    ¡°Trip?¡± I spoke up. This, at least, was something I could express curiosity about without attracting any suspicion. ¡°Are we going to Canada again?¡±


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Mom give a slight nod to Simon and mouth something to him. It looked like ¡®good job¡¯, followed by something I didn¡¯t catch.


    Meanwhile, Dad just chuckled, drawing my attention. ¡°Not this time, sorry, kid. This one¡¯s about business, not pleasure. But we¡¯ll make sure to go somewhere fun as soon as school¡¯s out. As for where¡­¡± He glanced toward Izzy beside me, considering for a moment before adding, ¡°That¡¯s a decision we can all make when the time comes.¡±


    By that point, Mom had picked up the little silver bell and gave it a ring, prompting the doors into the kitchen to open. Christiana and Ethan entered, carrying the covered metal trays, with Chef Claudio right behind them to explain and detail everything we were about to eat.


    Okay¡­ fine. It was fine. I was almost late, but no one really seemed to care. Probably because of that almost part. I¡¯d made it in time, Simon was talking about some kind of trip next month, and everyone was focused on how amazing dinner looked.


    Shoving all the uncertainty out of my head, along with the rushing thoughts of my new plan to break into my own family¡¯s secret base, I managed a small smile, thanking Claudio and his assistants before starting to dig into the food. Dinner now. Later, I would tell Izzy about the plan I had come up with.


    And hope she didn¡¯t think it was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.


    *********


    ¡°It is pretty crazy,¡± Izzy was saying later as the two of us sat in the gaming room across the hall from our bedrooms. We had a game up on one of the systems just in case anyone poked their head in, yet neither of us were actually playing. ¡°It¡¯ll take awhile to pull off. There¡¯s a lot of ways you could get caught. But still¡­¡± She considered for a moment before nodding. ¡°I like it.¡±


    Exhaling, I managed a weak smile. ¡°Really? So, it¡¯s crazy but a workable sort of crazy?¡±


    ¡°Workable sort of crazy,¡± she confirmed. ¡°You think you can find the right place for it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll head down there in a bit and look around,¡± I replied thoughtfully, gazing off toward the window before asking, ¡°What about you? They still putting you back on patrol tonight?¡±


    With a nod, the other girl confirmed, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m supposed to go out with your mom in an hour and get dropped off with Carousel and Whamline.¡± After a moment of hesitation, she added, ¡°They said I didn¡¯t have to do regular patrols for awhile, but I think it¡¯ll be better if things look normal.¡±


    ¡°Plus it¡¯s an excuse to get out of the house for awhile besides school,¡± I pointed out. Then, feeling a little awkward, I added, ¡°But umm, just be careful, okay? With that Easy Eight attack, I¡¯m pretty sure the Niners are gonna be in the mood to retaliate. And¨Cwait a second, I didn¡¯t tell you about the new girl!¡± I¡¯d been so obsessed with explaining the plan I¡¯d come with, I¡¯d forgotten the other part of what happened tonight.


    And wow did that prove my life was too fucking busy or what?


    Still, I quickly explained how that whole thing had gone, and about the armored girl. Izzy had a lot of questions, mostly revolving around what those new powers seemed to be and what sort of things she¡¯d done with them. Which, well¡­ I had no idea. All I knew was that she had some colored object¡­ things she could reshape into various other objects. Like that armor.


    ¡°You think she¡¯ll call and get you to help her figure out how her power works?¡± Izzy asked, before adding, ¡°And uhh, what¡¯re you gonna tell her about¡­ umm¡­ any of this?¡±


    ¡°As far as that first part goes, I hope so,¡± I murmured before exhaling long and hard. ¡°For the rest, fuck, I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t tell her the truth, right? There¡¯s no way we can trust her. We don¡¯t know anything about the girl. She could be anybody, she could side with you-know-who. She could do anything. I mean, yeah, she helped save those people, but that doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯s the sort of person we can trust for the rest of this. It¡¯s sort of, you know, a lot to throw at anyone even if you do know them. With this girl, we just¡­ don¡¯t.¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Izzy nodded, biting her lip. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. But if you tell her not to join the Minority, she¡¯ll wanna know why. And so will everyone else, especially if she actually uses her powers to help people. Are you going to start your own team? Take her on as a partner? If you do that¨C¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯re right back to whether we can trust her or not,¡± I agreed with a sigh. ¡°Yeah. Like I said, I dunno. I just¡­ I need to think about it. Any suggestions?¡±


    ¡°Think really hard?¡± she offered before wincing. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll think too. I mean, there¡¯s gotta be a good solution, right?¡±


    ¡°Sure, there¡¯s gotta be good solutions to everything going on,¡± I agreed.


    ¡°I just hope we can actually figure some of them out at some point.¡±


    *********


    ¡°Tell me your plan doesn¡¯t involve trying to intimidate the mall into surrender just by glaring at it.¡±


    A couple hours had passed, and I was crouched beside the air conditioning unit atop a fast food place across the parking lot from the mall in question. My gaze had been fixed intently on the building itself in the distance. The voice came from That-A-Way, who had just popped up a few feet behind me, deliberately coughing and shuffling her feet a bit to let me know she was there.


    ¡°Why,¡± I quipped without turning around, ¡°you don¡¯t think it¡¯ll work? I¡¯ll have you know, I can have a pretty intimidating stare if I really put my mind to it. That¡¯s what my brother says, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you have a brother?¡± Way remarked, making me curse myself inwardly for that stupid slip. ¡°Cool, Pack was pretty convinced you were an only child. Guess I just won that ten bucks.¡±


    That was enough to make me turn my head a bit finally, looking toward her so I could incredulously ask, ¡°You guys really bet ten bucks on whether I had any siblings? Seriously?¡±


    Her response was a very slight smirk as she shrugged. ¡°We actually bet a lot of different things when it comes to you, Paintball. Just something you¡¯re going to have to get used to if you don¡¯t want to give people any answers. You¡¯re a mysterious guy. Which, you know, don¡¯t get me wrong, if you were a few years older and also not a guy, I¡¯d be pretty intrigued. I mean, I¡¯m intrigued now, but in a different way. More of a, ¡®hey, I just made ten bucks¡¯ sort of way.¡±


    Damn it, do not say anything, do not say anything. Do not react. Do not show anything in reaction to what she just said about being older and not a guy. Fuck, it was almost like she was intentionally setting me up. Which she wasn¡¯t, of course. Even my overly-paranoid brain knew that. But still, the dozen different remarks that jumped to my lips the moment I heard that had to practically be physically shoved back down again. I swallowed hard before shaking my head. ¡°I guess that¡¯s my loss. But from what you¡¯re saying, I could make an awful lot of money just by winning those bets myself.¡± Saying that thoughtfully, I tapped the side of my helmet.


    With a snort at the suggestion, Way shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re not eligible, sorry. Just gonna have to make a few bucks some other way. Although,¡± she continued conspiratorially while leaning a little closer to me, ¡°maybe if you told me some of the answers, I could cut you in for half.¡±


    The rattling of the nearby ladder drew our attention, as Pack leaned up over the edge to look at us. She had two of her lizards (Riddles and Scatters) on either shoulder. ¡°And here I thought I was supposed to be one who was a disreputable cheater and overall scandalous person. Am I having a bad influence on you, Rose? And if so, is there any way I can speed up the process?¡±


    Beside me, I actually noticed Way blush a little bit before she cleared her throat and waved that off to very clearly change the subject. ¡°Pack. So, he called you here too, huh?¡±


    ¡°I wanted both of you to hear the idea,¡± I confirmed, gesturing for Pack to come closer  before turning back to look at the mall while lowering my voice a bit. ¡°We need a way to get in there without going through their front door and dealing with all the alarms and security that¡¯d call.¡±


    Moving up to stand beside That-A-Way, Pack replied, ¡°I still say you could use that pink paint and get us right through the door pretty fast, before they could react. We could jump them.¡±


    ¡°That still involves having a straight-up fight really quickly,¡±  I pointed out. ¡°And we don¡¯t know what¡¯s in there. We¡¯d still set off all their alarms when they saw us come through. So who knows how much time we¡¯d actually get to look around before we¡¯d have to retreat. Plus¨C¡±


    Way finished for me. ¡°Plus, it would involve Paintball using his powers right out in the open, so they¡¯d know who was there, even if he was in disguise. Which we¡¯re trying to avoid, because I, for one, don¡¯t want the Ministry to have any clue that I know anything about them.¡±


    ¡°They already know that I know some things,¡± I murmured quietly before exhaling. ¡°But yeah, I¡¯d really prefer if they didn¡¯t realize I was doing anything openly against them. It¡¯s just¡­ yeah, it¡¯d be bad. They have all the power and influence. We can¡¯t use our abilities in there or they¡¯ll know exactly who we are. Which means no lizards,¡± I pointed out, looking directly at her. ¡°There¡¯s not exactly anyone else in the city who uses them. It¡¯s a dead giveaway. And I do mean dead.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± It sounded like Pack was making a face behind her full-covering mask. ¡°But you¡¯re asking us to go in there with a pretty big handicap if we can¡¯t use any powers at all. I don¡¯t know about you guys, but I¡¯m not exactly some kind of super-spy martial arts master. Without my little friends here, I¡¯m basically just a girl with a gun. Which, don¡¯t get me wrong, is a fair equalizer a lot of the time. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be enough in that place. What¡¯re we supposed to do?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve thought about that.¡± Turning to look at the two of them, I continued, ¡°And I think I can put different paint colors in separate spots underneath like¡­ whatever overcoats we wear. You know, out of sight. Then I can activate the paint separately whenever we need it in the base itself. Just don¡¯t let them realize it¡¯s temporary, and if we do it right, they¡¯ll end up looking for people who are really strong and tough.¡±


    ¡°Like those biolems, maybe,¡± Way pointed out. ¡°Maybe they¡¯ll think we¡¯re some of those things. I mean, it¡¯s not like they know there¡¯s no more in the city, right?¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°Exactly, yeah. It¡¯s decent cover, anyway. Might send them chasing the wrong direction, but we still have to be careful. And first, we need to get inside without going through their front door. The longer we have to look around without an army of reinforcements descending on us, the better. Even if it¡¯s just an extra couple minutes. Every little bit helps.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve got a plan for that?¡± Pack asked curiously, crouching down to set Riddles and Scatters on the roof so they could explore a bit. ¡°Some idea of how to get in there quietly?¡±


    Nodding, I replied, ¡°It¡¯s all about building connections.¡± When that was met with blank stares, I coughed before continuing to actually explain. ¡°Not connections like acquaintances, physical connections. It¡¯s about building connections. Making connections. See, you¡¯re right, my pink paint could get through the door if we were standing right in front of it, which would let them know exactly who I was. Or¡­¡± Turning a bit, I pointed down at the parking lot and began to run my finger along it. ¡°We could find another place nearby, a building that isn¡¯t protected by their security, and use the pink paint to start tunneling that way. It¡¯d take awhile, but it¡¯d basically be completely silent. We just keep painting it, ripping some out, painting more, ripping it out, and so on. If I¡¯m just using pink paint for that, with the time it takes to actually pull the pieces out, I shouldn¡¯t need too many breaks to recharge. You know, if I pace myself. We just find a place that¡¯s safe to start from and take the time to patiently and quietly tunnel all the way over there. Once we¡¯re close, we start being really careful, just poking little holes in each spot until we find where the edge of that underground base is.¡±


    ¡°Sure we can keep track of exactly where we are and where we¡¯re going if we¡¯re in a tunnel?¡± Pack asked pointedly. ¡°Sounds like a good way of getting turned in circles.¡±


    I, however, tapped my helmet again. ¡°Trevithick¡¯s upgrades, they let me know where I am in the city. Shouldn¡¯t be too hard to keep track of my location well enough to keep going toward the mall.¡± With that, I shrugged. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s the best idea I¡¯ve come up with. What do you guys think?¡±


    They, in turn, exchanged looks. There was a brief murmur of conversation before both turned back to me, Way speaking. ¡°We¡¯d need a safe place to start from, and you¡¯re right, it¡¯d take awhile. So it¡¯d have to be a place that wouldn¡¯t be found, and that we could go back to repeatedly.¡±


    Nodding, I pointed off across the lot. ¡°See that half-built motel over there? It¡¯s been under construction for like a year, and all the contracts are stalled right now. We should be able to find a spot that¡¯s out of the way, and I¡¯m pretty sure they won¡¯t get back to building before we¡¯re done.¡±


    Again, Way and Pack looked to each other to have some private conversation that was only partially verbal. Then they turned back to me. ¡°It¡¯s a good plan, Paintball,¡± Way confirmed. ¡°I mean, still totally crazy and all, but it¡¯s the best one we¡¯ve got.¡±


    Exhaling in relief that at least they didn¡¯t immediately see a dozen impossible problems with it, I murmured, ¡°So I guess we just have to make sure no one ever sees us over there. We need a place to take the chunks we pull out of the tunnel so they don¡¯t know how it was made when they investigate after it¡¯s over. Just¨Cyou know, leave it as much of a mystery as possible.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get a big van or a truck,¡± Pack put in. ¡°One of us can drive the pieces away every time it¡¯s full. Dump them in the river or something.¡±


    Way quietly agreed, ¡°Sounds like a plan. Or the start of one, anyway. We can iron out details as we go.¡± She looked over to me then, adding, ¡°And now that that¡¯s settled, I¡¯ve got a question.


    ¡°What¡¯s this Pack¡¯s been saying about you having minions?¡±

 Building Connections 16-06

    There was a text waiting on my Touched phone the next morning, from an unknown number. Or rather, several texts. Apparently they were from the girl with the marbles, because the messages amounted to several bits rambling about how she hoped she had the right number and if she didn¡¯t, it was really screwed up. Then some apologies about how she wasn¡¯t saying I was screwed up, but that she had screwed up taking down the number or something. Then there was a bit about ignoring everything if I wasn¡¯t the right person, followed by another one that finally let me know who she was by saying she was ¡®the girl with the special marbles.¡¯


    Only then, by about the sixth text (all sent in the span of about five minutes) did she finally say that she wanted to meet that afternoon. She told me to send back proof that the person she was sending these messages to was who I was supposed to be by sending back the answer to why she¡¯d had to cut our meeting short before, then she would give me a location to meet her.


    Well, I could say this much for her. At least she had the right idea about being careful. Not perfect (and then, neither was I), but still. She had the spirit of things, well enough not to go blabbing important things over a phone before it was confirmed that the right person was getting them. Maybe we could do something with that, if I wanted to¨C


    Damn it, Cassidy, no. Don¡¯t go thinking of recruiting poor innocent girls who don¡¯t have anything to do with this situation. She didn¡¯t deserve to have to deal with this Ministry stuff at all. Getting her involved wasn¡¯t fair. Not for anyone really, let alone someone as brand new to this as she was.


    And yet, what was the alternative? That question had already been brought up. Could I send her to the Minority, knowing what I knew? What if she was¨Cwhat if they used her? What if¨Cfuck. I wished there was an easy answer to this, but there wasn¡¯t. There just wasn¡¯t an easy answer to any of it. Because of course there wasn¡¯t. When had there ever been an easy answer to anything since the moment I saw those people being killed?


    Actually, that thought brought something to mind. I still didn¡¯t know who those people were. Clearly they were a threat to the Ministry, a big enough one to warrant sending Simon himself to execute them. No, even bigger than that, because my father had been there too. Simon had said that, the next night when I saw him with our dad as Silversmith. He¡¯d said that Dad was there that night, I just hadn¡¯t seen him. So who were those people? Who were the two people who had been executed in cold blood and were important enough for both Simon and our dad to be there to make sure it happened correctly? That felt like an important thing to look into, but how would I even do that? Yeah, speaking of impossible questions, there was that whole thing.


    After reading the messages and going through all that in my head while I sat in my bedroom that morning, I sent back the answer to the mystery marble girl. Specifically, that she¡¯d had to leave because her mother would¡¯ve locked her in the house for a year if she found out anything about her daughter being near what had happened. Then I asked if her mother found out anything anyway. It was a good, casual way of finding out how good this girl was at keeping her secrets.


    I didn¡¯t see any immediate typing response, so I put the phone away and moved to take my shower before checking on Izzy. She was already up and ready to take her own by the time I came out, so I told the girl I¡¯d wait for her and we could head downstairs together. While waiting, I checked the phone again. Still nothing. So I went back to my room and used the laptop there to try checking out any news stories about the thing at the shopping center the night before.


    Right, yeah, there was a lot about it. That whole event was basically frontpage news. While they didn¡¯t have a lot of the specific details, the journalists had been able to piece together a general idea from the people who had been kept as hostages or prisoners. According to them, the Easy Eights under Juice showed up and would¡¯ve burned down the whole place if Paintball hadn¡¯t shown up with his new sidekick¨Cwait.


    Yeah, that one made me do a double-take, sputtering as I almost fell backward off my desk chair. Sidekick?! What¨Cwhy would¨Cwhat did they¨Chow did they even¨C


    A knock at my door suddenly interrupted my brain bluescreen, and I quickly shut the laptop before jumping that way to open the door. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    It was one of the cleaning ladies, who asked if I needed my room spruced up. She also let me know that my father had asked for my presence at one of his home offices before I went to school.  So, I thanked her and said she didn¡¯t need to do anything with my room. Then I waited for Izzy to be out and dressed before both of us headed for the office, whispering to one another about what my father could possibly want. Not that we talked about anything important out in the public halls where someone could overhear, of course. Mostly we talked about whether it was something to do with school, or something else. We were trying to talk in a bit of code about extracurriculars, but I¡¯m not sure either of us were that good at doing it on the fly yet. We really needed to come up with appropriate codewords to use in this sort of situation, ways of talking about things without giving anything away. I¡¯d add that to the list of things to work on. And then collapse under the sheer weight of said list.


    Either way, eventually we made it to the office Dad was using. The door was closed, so I spoke the code for the intercom to connect into the room and announced that Izzy and I were there. After a very brief pause, the door clicked and Dad¡¯s voice said we could come in. The two of us exchanged looks before stepping through into an office that was about the same size as my bedroom. So, pretty big. Most of the walls were taken up by various bookcases, which practically sagged under the weight of their contents. One window overlooked the grounds, next to a wooden door that would step out onto a patio. There was another door on the opposite side of the room that led to a full bathroom complete with its own whirlpool tub, while Dad¡¯s very large, ornate wooden desk sat closer to that wooden patio door.


    ¡°Well hey there, girls,¡± my father greeted us with a smile as we stepped in. He rose, waving a hand at a pile of folders and random papers that were spread across his desk. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose either of you would like to trade, so you can worry about all this financial mumbo-jumbo and I¡¯ll go deal with your schoolwork?¡± Waggling his eyebrows briefly, he made a show of pausing to consider. ¡°On second thought, I just remembered I¡¯ve dealt with middle and high schoolers before. So I changed my mind, I¡¯ll take predatory bankers, investment firms, and hungry shark lawyers over that. Actually, come to think of it, I might just take actual hungry sharks over that.¡±


    ¡°Gee thanks, Dad,¡± I muttered, ¡°you¡¯re really making both of us super-eager to get to school.¡±


    With a chuckle, Dad waved that off. ¡°Sorry, never mind that. Actually, I¡¯m glad you two came together, since this involves both of you.¡± Meeting our gazes one at a time, he finally focused on me before explaining, ¡°Your mother and I need to take a little trip, and Simon¡¯s coming with us. Which means it¡¯ll be the two of you here with just the house staff for¡­ probably about a week. Do you think you girls can be okay with that?¡±


    Raising an eyebrow despite myself, I pointed out, ¡°You know that still leaves like fifteen adults in the house at all times, right? And a full security system. I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯re not about to burn the place down just because you guys aren¡¯t here.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°Where¡¯re you going anyway?¡± Not that I expected a real, truthful answer, but it made sense for me to ask.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Just some work stuff, and your mother wants Simon to get his feet wet,¡± Dad informed me casually. ¡°And believe me, I know how easy it is for you to get yourself in trouble, staff or no staff, little missy.¡± To Izzy, he added, ¡°Don¡¯t let her talk you into skateboarding off the roof or something.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, I only did that the one time,¡± I protested. ¡°And there was a stunt airbag right there. I was fine.¡±


    ¡°You may have been fine,¡± Dad noted, ¡°but I seem to recall that your mother came out of the house just in time to see you sliding off the other end and didn¡¯t know about the airbag.¡±


    Flushing a bit despite myself, I kicked at the floor and squirmed. ¡°Yeah, she screamed pretty loud. And then she said a lot of words she doesn¡¯t usually say, most of them in Italian.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, so let¡¯s not make your mother curse in Italian again, if we can help it.¡±


    Giving my father a thumbs up and promising not to do dumb things like that again, I added, ¡°When are you guys going, anyway? Next week?¡±


    With a visible grimace, Dad shook his head. ¡°This afternoon, actually. It¡¯s kind of a last minute emergency set of meetings. Gotta talk some of our partners back off the ledge. Believe me, it¡¯s all boring stuff. Boring, but important, and I have to say, you would be shocked how often those two things intersect in the adult world.¡± Adding a faint smile, he focused on Izzy. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay here? If you¡¯d prefer to go with and wait in the hotel¡­¡±


    Izzy, of course, shook her head quickly. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mr. Evans. I¡¯ll stay with Cassidy and keep going to school. I mean, I just started, you know? Probably not a good thing to take off for a week.¡±


    ¡°Fair point,¡± Dad agreed. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ll be heading out about an hour after you¡¯re out of school, Cassidy. So both of you come home so we can go over a few last minute things, okay?¡±


    Both of us agreed easily, before I gave my dad a brief hug when he made the motion for it. For a second I thought he was going to do the same for Izzy, but in the end he seemed to reconsider pushing that quickly, and simply squeezed her shoulder before sending us off with a warning not to be late for our ride to school.


    Still, we didn¡¯t go straight to breakfast. The two of us went to my room instead. Once we were safely locked up in there, I spoke in a lowered voice. ¡°What do you think that¡¯s all about?¡±


    ¡°You mean why are they really going away?¡± Izzy murmured thoughtfully. ¡°You don¡¯t think they¡¯re actually leaving the city, do you?¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Not on your¨Cboth of our lives. There¡¯s too much going on right now. I think they need to focus on this gang war after the Eights just pulled that shit yesterday, so they¡¯re giving an excuse not to be around the house playing normal, happy family for a few days. But if they¡¯re taking Simon too, it must be really big.¡±


    Sitting down on the edge of my bed, Izzy gave a slow nod. Her voice was quiet. ¡°Yeah, really big. That gang war¡¯s escalating and affecting businesses.¡± After a momentary pause, she added a bit hesitantly, ¡°I guess you can¡¯t just go ask Blackjack to maybe tone it down a little? I mean, since you went through all that to save his daughter¡¯s life. He does kinda, you know, owe you.¡±


    Grimacing, I shook my head. ¡°Believe me, I¡¯ve thought about it. But I¡¯m pretty sure he feels that he owes those guys pain and suffering for putting his daughter in danger more than he owes me for helping to get her out of it. If I asked him, he¡¯d probably say something about how he owes me a lot, but he can¡¯t let the other gangs get away with what they did or they¡¯ll try that shit again. Or something like it. And how that would be putting his daughter and the rest of his people in even more danger by showing weakness, so as much as he¡¯d love to cease hostilities, it would do more damage in the long-run. So is there any other way he can help me?¡±


    Izzy stared at me for a moment before offering a very faint smile. ¡°You¡¯ve put a lot of thought into that, huh?¡±


    Snorting, I gestured, ¡°I might¡¯ve had a lot of time to consider it, yeah.¡± Then I sighed, looking away toward the window. ¡°If I thought it¡¯d do any good, I¡¯d say something. But it wouldn¡¯t. That¡¯s his daughter, and those people put her in danger, could¡¯ve killed her, just to try to weaken his position. He¡¯s not going to back off and leave them alone now. I already convinced him not to take out his revenge on Ashton. There¡¯s no way that¡¯ll stretch to the rest of his enemies.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯re right,¡± the other girl murmured thoughtfully before sighing. ¡°This is gonna get worse before it gets better, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    With a wince, I offered, ¡°Maybe my family can get it under control before the whole city starts burning? And boy is that a weird thing to come out of my mouth. I mean, they¡¯re bad, right? They¡¯re bad. but in this case, the one thing they might be good for is stopping this from going too far. This gang war escalating too much has gotta be pretty bad for business, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s probably why they¡¯re ¡®leaving¡¯ to focus on it,¡± Izzy agreed. ¡°But if they really are gone, you know that gives you time to work on your plan about breaking into the mall without having to check in as much.¡± She brightened a bit. ¡°And I can cover for you here with anyone else.¡±


    Staring at the other girl for a moment, I had to swallow back the lump in my throat. My hand rose to touch the side of her face before I knew what I was doing. ¡°Thanks, Izzy,¡± I finally managed. ¡°Seriously, I really¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d be like right now if I didn¡¯t have you to talk to. I was¡­ I was getting pretty bad back there.¡±


    A moment of awkward silence passed between us, before we were both embracing. I wasn¡¯t even sure which of us had started it. We hugged there on the bed, and I held the younger girl tightly, my voice soft. ¡°There¡¯s something else we can do while they¡¯re gone too.¡±


    ¡°There is?¡± she asked, pulling back a little to blink at me.


    I nodded firmly. ¡°We can try to find out what happened to your mom. I mean, if you want to. I know¨CI know it¡¯s probably a hard thing to¡­ yeah. If you want closure or¡­ or just to know where she went or if she¡­¡± This was awkward, and not at all how I¡¯d intended the whole thing to go.


    For her part, Izzy was quiet for a moment. Then she exhaled and gave a very slight nod. ¡°I want to know the truth. What¡­ whatever it is. I wanna know where my mom is.¡±


    Returning the nod, I promised, ¡°We¡¯ll find out. Whatever it takes, we¡¯ll figure out where she went and what happened to her.¡± With that, I glanced over to the wall of clocks and winced. ¡°But right now, we¡¯ve gotta take a quick breakfast and get outside before Jefferson makes himself our new archenemy for being late.


    ¡°Cuz I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯ve got enough problems without adding an annoyed driver onto the pile.¡±


    ********


    In the end, I didn¡¯t get a response from the mystery marble girl until lunch time. I was sitting in the cafeteria with Dani, Amber, Jae, Tomas, and San when it buzzed soundlessly in my pocket. San and Dani were going on about something that had to do with politics, so I tuned them out and carefully slipped the phone out to glance at it in my lap. The message said to meet her behind this old mattress store a few blocks away from where that whole thing had gone down last night. Which was fine. Unfortunately, she was asking to meet at the same time that Dad wanted Izzy and me to be home to tell them goodbye.


    So, I sent back a message asking to extend that to an hour and a half later, because of a ¡®family thing.¡¯ There was a brief pause before I saw the notification that she was typing.


    ¡°Right, Cassie?¡±


    Wait, that was my name. Blinking up, I realized Amber was the one who had spoken, but they were all looking at me. ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± I managed oh-so-eloquently. ¡°What?¡±


    That prompted entirely too much snickering from everyone, before Tomas shook his head. ¡°Sorry, you sorta walked right into a ¡®Cassidy is so bored she¡¯s tuning you out completely¡¯ question.¡± With an easy, charming grin that made my heart flip over a few times, he added, ¡°The point is, nobody wants to talk about the shite that¡¯s going on with my country¡¯s politicians, let alone yours.¡±


    There was a general murmur of agreement, and the conversation moved slightly to what was going on with the Fell-Gangs who were at war. And boy could I have contributed to that one more than anyone understood. But, I bit my lip and forced myself to act like I knew as little as they did.


    Through that, the message from the marble girl came in. She was okay with waiting until then. So, I sent a confirmation before exhaling while putting my phone away. Today, I¡¯d have my conversation with her, where she¡¯d probably ask what she should be doing with her powers, what team she should join, where she should go, or whatever.


    And I still had no idea what I was going to say to her.

 Building Connections 16-07

    Well, Mom, Dad, and Simon were really putting some work into their ruse of going out of town. When Izzy and I got home, the hallway was full of suitcases and boxes with various files poking out of them. It really looked like they were going off on some kind of emergency business trip. Honestly, I was almost kind of impressed. I¡¯d basically expected them to just walk out the door without so much as a backpack. It wasn¡¯t like the old me really would¡¯ve questioned it very much, if at all.


    As the two of us walked in and paused to look at all that, Simon basically came flying down the main front foyer staircase, taking the steps several at a time while calling up, ¡°Yeah, I already called them! They¡¯re gonna round up those guys and meet¨C¡± He reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Izzy and me before finishing with, ¡°¨Cus at the hotel! You booked the conference room?¡± Standing there at the bottom of the stairs, he pretended to ignore the two of us while looking up toward the next landing. ¡°They wanted the one facing Central Park, not the one from last time!¡±


    A moment later, Dad appeared at the landing, descending briskly (though he at least hit every step). ¡°Yes, we got the right room,¡± he replied while adjusting his suit cufflinks. ¡°Not making that mistake twice. And hi there, girls.¡± Pausing, looking just as crisp and handsome and perfect as my father always did, he asked, ¡°My God, is it really time for you both to be home already? Your mother¡¯s still in our room packing.¡±


    With that, he turned toward the nearby intercom. ¡°Broadcast now, Elena.¡± There was a pause before the intercom beeped to indicate it had connected to the room my mother was in. ¡°Dear, are you aware that it¡¯s already after three o¡¯clock? The girls are here. We need to head out.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Mom¡¯s voice replied, ¡°It¡¯s not¨Coh my word, yes, I¡¯ll be right down. Don¡¯t you go anywhere, girls. We¡¯re leaving in just a minute and I still have things to say to you.¡±


    Again, Izzy and I exchanged glances. Now I was a little confused. Did they really lose track of time? It seemed like an oddly specific ruse to add onto them going out of town. Maybe they were really just that distracted by this gang war? I also noticed that Dad used the intercom¡¯s ability to connect to a specific person rather than saying the room she was in, despite the fact that he¡¯d said she was in the bedroom. Did that mean he didn¡¯t want me to know that she wasn¡¯t there? Or was I just being paranoid and picking at every little thing no matter how inconsequential?


    Except even if I was simply being paranoid, that didn¡¯t necessarily mean that I was wrong.


    Shaking that off after giving Izzy a very slight nod, I spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re staying in New York? So it¡¯s not an out-of-the-country trip. You sure we can¡¯t both go with you? Izzy¡¯s never seen New York.¡± Of course they¡¯d say no, but if I didn¡¯t ask once I ¡®knew¡¯ where they were going, it¡¯d look weird.


    As expected, Dad gave me a regretful look. ¡°Sorry, kid. We¡¯ve got a lot of work to do, and I really want our first trip with¡­¡± Trailing off, he glanced toward the other girl as though considering what he was saying. ¡°Izzy, we¡¯ll absolutely take a trip with you when we get a chance. But it¡¯s like you said earlier, school comes first, and you¡¯re just getting started.¡± With a small smile, he added toward me, ¡°And don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice your cunning attempt to get out of your school, young lady. No, I think you¡¯ll be just fine here. Be good, don¡¯t burn the house down or end up in the hospital, and we¡¯ll talk about where to go for summer break when we get back, deal?¡±


    ¡°So if the ambulance has to come but we don¡¯t actually go to the hospital, it¡¯s still good?¡± I asked brightly, batting my eyes a few times at him innocently while he squinted at me. In the background, I heard Izzy snerk before she caught herself and turned it into a faint cough.


    ¡°Who needs an ambulance?¡± Mom asked as she descended the stairs, taking a moment to assess Izzy and me critically. ¡°Please tell me it¡¯s someone in another house, we haven¡¯t even left yet.¡±


    ¡°Oh please, Mom,¡± Simon put in, ¡°as if she needs us to be out of the house before she does something crazy dangerous.¡±


    ¡°You wanna compare whose crazy has cost the most?¡± I shot right back at him. ¡°Cuz something tells me you¡¯re not gonna come out ahead on that balance sheet, Mr. Full Contact Laser Tag Inside The House.¡±


    Simon, in turn, squinted at me while both our parents arched eyebrows at him with the memory clearly running through their minds. ¡°Really? Bringing that up right before I have to sit on a plane for an hour? Uncool, Booster. Super uncool. See if I bring you back one of those skyscraper plushies you like so much.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± I retorted, ¡°they sell those online. I¡¯ve got the whole set already, except the new one. And that doesn¡¯t come out until next month.¡±


    With a heavy sigh, my brother looked to our parents as he lamented, ¡°She was a lot easier to bribe before she figured out how internet shopping works.¡±


    A giggle escaped me, despite everything. Fuck. This was all so normal. This was my family, this was¨Cthey were the people I loved, the people I¡¯d grown up with. And they were faking all of this. Okay, not faking all of it, but still hiding who they were. They weren¡¯t going off on some kind of important-yet-normal business trip. They were staying right here in the city so they could focus on dealing with this mounting gang war that they themselves had allowed to start.


    Shoving those thoughts out of my head, I focused on looking back and forth between my parents. ¡°You guys really need all this stuff?¡± The question came as I gestured toward the stack of suitcases and boxes. Even though I couldn¡¯t exactly ask why they were bothering to go to these lengths in their deception, I could at least point out that they were taking a lot of stuff with them.


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Dad confirmed with a grimace. ¡°Let¡¯s just say the clients want a lot of paperwork to hammer through this deal, and we¡¯ll probably have to attend a few palm-greasing parties.¡±


    ¡°He says that as though he¡¯s going to suffer,¡± Mom casually noted, ¡°but we all know your father enjoys those things more than he lets on. And he isn¡¯t mentioning the fact that half of these meetings will be at that country club with the caddie he has the running wager with. How much have you conned that poor man out of, Sterling?¡±


    ¡°Hey now,¡± Dad shot back even as several of the house staff came through the hallway to start picking up the boxes and suitcases, ¡°it¡¯s hardly my fault if that fool keeps thinking that whatever poor schmuck I¡¯m teeing off with that day has a chance of coming in under me on my third-favorite non-Detroit course.¡±


    Izzy, looking uncertain and possibly a little uneasy, spoke up. ¡°Uh, you bet money with a caddy?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Dad blinked that way before chuckling. ¡°Oh, no, of course not. Believe me, Pete makes plenty of tips off our visits and I wouldn¡¯t take those away from him. No, we gamble with something other than money.¡± Saying that, he was smiling fondly at the thought.


    Nudging Izzy, I explained, ¡°Dad and Caddie Pete make bad movie bets. Whoever wins gets to make the other watch a horrible movie from start to finish and write a full report about it. Pete¡¯s only managed to make him watch two-wait, three movies. But Dad¡¯s made him watch¡­ how many?¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Thirteen,¡± came the answer with a broad smile. ¡°And I¡¯ve got a doozy in mind for the next one.¡±


    ¡°Be that as it may,¡± Mom put in smoothly while laying a hand on his shoulder, ¡°we are going for work. So let¡¯s keep that in mind. Now, girls.¡± She focused on the two of us. ¡°I know this is sudden, and very last-minute. I¡¯m sorry for that, Izzy. But you¡¯ll be okay here. The staff all know to accommodate any reasonable request, you¡¯ll go to school in the mornings with Jefferson the same as always, and Claudio will have your meals ready at the usual times. We may or may not be able to have Skype dinner time on our usual days, but I do expect both of you to be available if it¡¯s possible on our end, understand?¡±


    We nodded and murmured agreement, before both of my parents went over a few more last-minute instructions. In the background, all the luggage was being taken through the open front door to the waiting limo, and I could see Jefferson himself having a discussion with one of the security guys. Another man, whom I recognized as the chief of Dad¡¯s security detail (a tall, blond man with cold gray eyes named Finn Wagner) was standing just inside the doorway on the phone with what sounded like airport security.


    Yeah, they really were pulling out all the stops for this. Then again, I supposed it also made sense, come to think of it. After all, they needed the rest of the city to believe they were gone, not just me.


    Finally, it was time to exchange hugs. I did so with both of my parents, and then with Simon.  Which left Izzy. And while my father may have hesitated slightly out of not wanting to make her uncomfortable, my mother was different. To be fair, she didn¡¯t grab the girl out of nowhere. She didn¡¯t force any kind of affection on her. Instead, she simply opened her arms slightly and extended both hands, palms outward to her in a gesture that was perfectly calculated so that the girl could choose to interpret it as either an offer of taking both hands and squeezing, or an actual embrace.


    Izzy chose the hug, which seemed to surprise both of us a little bit. She was already embracing my mother before her head turned to me with an expression that said she had no idea how it had happened. Still, she didn¡¯t pull away too quickly, allowing the hug to linger for a few seconds. How much of that was out of not wanting to look suspicious somehow, and how much was because she desperately needed a hug from an adult was unclear.


    Either way, eventually the hug ended, and she exchanged another (slightly quicker) one with my father. Simon, apparently, did not rate a hug. Though he did get a somewhat awkward high-five.


    Then it was time for them to go. Izzy and I stood in the doorway, watching the limo pull out, escorted by three different security cars. The two of us looked at one another once they were out of sight, but didn¡¯t say anything important, of course. Not with half-a-dozen house staff within earshot. So, we stood there for a few extra seconds before I shrugged. ¡°You wanna go get a burger or something? Maybe some cheese tots?¡±


    ¡°Ahem.¡± It was Dexter, the butler. Unlike other butlers I¡¯d seen in movies, Dexter wasn¡¯t actually old or British. He was a handsome guy in his forties or so with deeply tanned skin (which I suspected was unnatural) and coppery red hair. Honestly, aside from the suit he wore all the time, the guy almost looked more like he belonged in some kind of cover band or something rather than working as a butler. Normally, I didn¡¯t have much direct interaction with him. But I supposed in this case he had decided that I was the closest thing to his boss currently in the house.


    ¡°Miss Evans,¡± the man started easily, ¡°if you would like Claudio to be summoned to prepare¨C¡±


    ¡°Uh, no thanks, Dex.¡± My voice was a little awkward as I shrugged, my backpack shifting a bit in the process. ¡°We¡¯ll just head into town and get something there. You know, greasy and simple and cheesy and now I¡¯m making myself hungry again. C¡¯mon, Izzy.¡± Taking her by the hand, I pulled the girl with me.


    ¡°Will you be requiring the services of another driver?¡± Dexter called after us. ¡°I can have a car brought around.¡±


    Waving that off, I informed him that we¡¯d walk for a bit before calling an Uber. It sounded like he was going to object (probably something about how the Evans should get around in their own cars or whatever), but we were already jogging down the driveway. Waving to the security guy at the gate, the two of us slipped out, made an immediate left, and kept walking down the sidewalk. We didn¡¯t say anything until we were out of sight of the gate (it would be another minute or so before we were out of the sight of the actual house). Finally, I breathed out. ¡°That was weird, right?¡±


    ¡°It was weird to you too?!¡± Izzy blurted, sounding like she was about to explode to get those words out. ¡°Are they really going anywhere? I mean, they¡¯re not, right? Why would they¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not¨CI mean they¡¯re clearly going somewhere in the city,¡± I confirmed. ¡°But they definitely didn¡¯t need all those suitcases. They must¡¯ve been making it look good for¡­ for you, I guess? It¡¯s not like they¡¯d have to show the rest of the world that they¡¯re taking a bunch of extra luggage. Unless they were taking other things with them and wanted us to think it was just luggage?¡±


    ¡°What would they have in the house that they had to take with them like that?¡± Izzy cautiously asked.


    Letting out a long breath while shifting my backpack on one shoulder, I shook my head. ¡°I dunno. Seriously, I have no idea. Convincing us and the rest of the city that they actually left is the best suggestion I¡¯ve got. Because there¡¯s no way this trip to New York is real. Not with this gang war going on, and getting worse by the day. They¡¯re shutting everything else out to focus on that. The suitcases and that whole production back there is probably just one part of their ¡®make everyone think we¡¯re gone so no one connects us to the Ministry getting more involved in things¡¯ plan.¡±


    We both thought about that in silence for a few minutes, before we eventually approached the main gate into the neighborhood. One of the guards was in the booth there, giving both of us a brief look before nodding as he went back to playing a game on his ipad. Between the two of us, we chorused a greeting, acting like we were nothing but two random kids going for a walk.


    Finally, we were past the gate and Izzy spoke again. ¡°Is it bad that I¡¯m kinda rooting for your parents to get this under control?¡±


    ¡°They better get it under control,¡± I retorted. ¡°Having the criminal and heroic worlds in the palm of their hands is like¡­ their entire thing.


    ¡°If they can¡¯t stop the city from falling apart, what is the Ministry even for?¡±


    *******


    Eventually, we did end up calling an Uber, and took the ride over to one of the malls (not the one where my family¡¯s secret base was, of course). The two of us ate something at the food court there before splitting up. Izzy was going to see a movie or two in the theater there, while I changed into the costume in my backpack and went out to meet with marble girl (boy did I hope she had a better name in mind).


    Skating across the rooftops of the city really helped clear my mind a bit. If nothing else, at least my consolation prize for having to deal with my entire family situation were these powers. I loved my powers. The way I could leap from building to building, skate along the side of one and then blue-paint boost my way to the opposite side of the street? It was, as always, an insane rush. It made me feel alive and free in a way I had never experienced before. It was incredible, and I would never trade my powers for anyone else¡¯s. Not really. They were mine.


    Distracted as I was with all that enjoyment, it still wasn¡¯t hard to find the old rundown mattress store the girl had wanted to meet at. As I came in to land smoothly on the edge of the roof, I saw her below, hidden from public sight behind the building, with a tall wooden fence to one side and an alley to the other. She was in that same armor with the white helmet, talking to herself while the rest of those colored marbles floated in front of her.


    Not to herself, I realized belatedly. She was talking to the marbles. Something about telling them to show ¡®him¡¯ what they could do, but not to be nervous because she would be proud of them no matter what.


    Smiling a bit despite myself, I hopped down with a tiny bit of orange paint to cushion the drop. ¡°Personally, I like to offer my powers treats if they behave.¡±


    Right, probably should¡¯ve announced myself a bit more carefully. The moment I spoke up from behind her, the girl gave a strangled yelp of surprise, lunging out of the way. At the same time, the three hovering marbles (silver, bronze, and purple) all transformed and grew into a huge claymore, a hammer, and a spear respectively. They flew toward me, before the other girl managed to catch herself and spin around with a blurted, ¡°Stop!¡±


    They stopped, hovering a foot or so away from me with the business ends still pointed my way.


    ¡°Heh, heh, sorry.¡± With a nervous giggle, the girl beckoned with one hand, summoning the weapons away before they turned back into marbles. ¡°That was almost pretty bad, huh?


    ¡°Shish Kebabing the boss is probably a pretty horrible way to start your first day as a sidekick.¡±

 Building Connections 16-08

    Doing a quick double-take at the other girl¡¯s words, I reflexively blurted, ¡°First day as a what?¡±


    Yup, still couldn¡¯t see her face through that helmet. But it was pretty easy to tell she was blushing. It was just the way her body language read, the way she squirmed and hesitated before seeming to set herself as she repeated, ¡°Sidekick. I mean, it seemed a little presumptuous or whatever to say partner, you know? You¡¯ve been doing the whole hero thing for a little while, and I¡¯m not¨CI mean I never, except yesterday with the whole¨Cand I was just there for¨Cum.¡± Realizing she was rambling, the girl shrugged uncertainly. ¡°I know it¡¯s probably weird to like, have a sidekick that¡¯s older than you and all, but I¡¯m okay with that from my end. I mean, you saved¨Clike, you¡¯ve saved a lot of people. So, you know, I¡¯m like¡­ I¡¯m okay with being your¡­ student?¡±


    Oh boy, what was I supposed to say to that? I mean, just outright denying her would be mean and might backfire in several ways. But I couldn¡¯t actually have her as a sidekick, right? Not really. It was way too dangerous for both of us. If she was on the level, I¡¯d be putting her in so much danger and stress. And if she wasn¡¯t, if she wasn¡¯t trustworthy, I¡¯d be exposing myself. What could I say? How could I gently deny her, or give her a different idea of what to do with herself, without screwing things up? What kind of suggestion could I make?


    Finally, I said the only thing that came to mind. ¡°You could join the Minority, you know?¡±


    To my surprise, the girl snorted at that. ¡°Well, that¡¯s obviously a completely terrible idea.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked, confused. ¡°Why? What¡¯s so terrible about joining the Minority?¡±


    Her even more confusing answer to that was a shrug. ¡°I dunno. They seem pretty cool to me. Actually they seem awesome. They¡¯ve got cool powers and they help people all the time. Plus, you know, they¡¯re like¡­ training for the big teams. And I hear you get a scholarship and shit for being part of them. Not just a salary, but like¡­ super-good education benefits. And once you¡¯re part of one of the adult teams, they help you get a good cover job or whatever. Seems cool to me.¡±


    My mouth opened, then shut before I managed a weak, ¡°So why don¡¯t you want to join them? You know, if they¡¯re so cool and everything. I don¡¯t get it. You just said you like them, and they have all these benefits. So what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Uh, first, my mom would never let me,¡± she pointed out with what sounded like a grimace. ¡°They make you report everything to your parents, and my mother would lock me in a tower, Rapunzel-style, before she¡¯d let me go do stuff like that. And I don¡¯t think I can grow my hair that long. I mean, maybe someone could talk her into letting me do the simple stuff or like¡­ something. But it¡¯d be a big problem.¡±


    Hesitating, I slowly asked, ¡°You said that¡¯s one reason. And one you might be able to work around. What¡¯s the other reason you don¡¯t want to join them?¡±


    ¡°You.¡± That was her flat response as she stared at me. Her eyes, visible through that helmet, seemed to look right into me. ¡°You know they¡¯re good guys. I mean, you work with them a lot. You keep showing up to help them, or calling for their help. The point is, you work with them. And you obviously know every good reason to join them that I already said. But you don¡¯t work with them. You know they¡¯re good, but you don¡¯t join them. You¡¯re good and they¡¯re good, but you keep refusing to sign up. Even though you like, fight together sometimes, or join them on something here or there, you don¡¯t join. You¡¯ve needed their help before, you know they have all these benefits, they obviously want you to join. But¡­ but you don¡¯t.¡±


    When I didn¡¯t say anything to that, my mind too busy reeling, she continued. ¡°Yeah, I dunno what the problem is. They seem cool. They seem great. But you know all that and you still don¡¯t join them. So obviously there¡¯s something wrong with them. It¡¯s not cuz you¡¯re a loner or you hate working with people, cuz you still work with them. Just not officially. I think that probably means the problem isn¡¯t one of them, but the adults you keep avoiding.¡±


    With a shrug, the girl added, ¡°Or maybe you just don¡¯t want to join them for my first reason. Maybe you¡¯re avoiding letting your parents know you¡¯re Touched and all. I mean, you are like¡­ sorry, no offense, a kid. So first I thought that was it. But I dunno. I sort of¡­ looked up everything I could about stuff you¡¯ve been doing last night. I spent hours with it. Seriously, that was like, the most homework I¡¯ve ever done. And the more I tried to understand, the more it seemed like just having protective parents wasn¡¯t the real answer. Trust me, I deal with a super-protective mom all the time, and your thing just doesn¡¯t feel like that. Not exactly.¡±


    Finally, she folded her arms, finishing with a quiet, ¡°I dunno why you don¡¯t want to join them. But you already saved me twice, so if you think there¡¯s something wrong with them, I¡¯m gonna take your word for it. Or, you know, not your word. Your¡­ uhh, decision? Whatever.¡±


    For a moment, I tried to think of how to respond to that. What was I supposed to say? I could claim the first instinct was right, that I was really just trying to avoid letting my parents know about me. Which, technically, was one hundred percent true. But I was pretty sure she¡¯d want more than that. I considered that briefly before blinking. ¡°Wait, hang on.¡± Running what she¡¯d just said back through my head, I looked back to her. ¡°What do you mean, I saved you twice?¡±


    There was no response at first. Instead, the girl just stared at me. I had the feeling she was reeling inwardly for those several long, silent seconds before eventually managing a single, ¡°Oh. I¡­ uh.¡± Deflating a bit, she reached up to tap the side of her white helmet with one finger. Immediately, it popped off her head, transforming back into a small white marble. Now I could see her face. A face which, while not one I had seen much of, was still instantly familiar.


    ¡°Wha¨Cyou!¡± I blurted out loud, pointing that way completely ridiculously. ¡°It¡¯s you! You¨C¡± The right name came to me abruptly, though I¡¯d only heard it once. ¡°Peyton?!¡±


    Squirming there on her feet, the red-haired girl offered a weak, ¡°Hi, Paintball. Funny to see you again, huh? At least I didn¡¯t get kidnapped by a pedo this time?¡±


    While I was still trying to cope with the odds of all this, she quickly pressed on to tell me everything about what actually happened the day before. She told me about how she was shopping when those guys arrived, how she panicked and ran away when they told her to stay put, then got cornered in the bookstore until the orb showed up and gave her powers.


    Orb. Her saying that reminded me of the thought I¡¯d had the day before. I¡¯d been half-sure that I¡¯d caught a glimpse of one of the orbs from the corner of my eye. That was the whole reason I¡¯d turned around and looked just in time to see the Easy Eight people driving past. If I hadn¡¯t thought I saw the orb right then, I would¡¯ve missed them. And if I¡¯d missed them, I wouldn¡¯t have been at the shopping center place in time to help this gi¨CPeyton. And if I hadn¡¯t been there, she might¡¯ve¨Cwhat? Would she have died? Would Juice go that far? I wasn¡¯t¨Cmaybe. Either way, she would¡¯ve been hurt. Or abducted. Maybe they would¡¯ve turned her, or just injured her, or¨Cit would¡¯ve been bad. That was the point, it definitely would¡¯ve been bad.


    Did¡­ did that mean the orb that gave Peyton her powers had then come to find me for help? Was¨Cwere they capable of that kind of¨Cno. Of course not. They were just orbs. But maybe whoever was behind them had sent one to get my attention, somehow? No one knew who created the orbs, if it was some alien race or super-advanced secret society of humans or¡­ or what. So maybe whoever sent the orb to her or¡­ or whatever realized she was still in trouble and sent one to get my attention? But¡­ but¡­ that was just¨Cthat¡­ huh.


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    Well, that just opened up a whole new slew of questions that I didn¡¯t have any chance of getting answers to any time soon. A whole lot of people much smarter than I was had been trying to figure out the truth about the orbs for a long time. I wasn¡¯t about to solve that mystery.


    Shaking all that off, I focused on the current situation. Peyton was here, the girl I¡¯d saved from one kidnapping and then helped deal with a hostage situation. And she had figured out that I had a good reason not to join up with the Minority, even if she had no idea what that reason was. Suddenly, an already-complicated situation had become even moreso. Which was just perfect.


    ¡°Should I uhh, go grab a sandwich while you figure out what to say?¡± the girl hesitantly asked, offering me a somewhat lopsided smile. ¡°I guess I could get one for you too, if you want.¡±


    For like the millionth time, I was grateful that my helmet and mask combination made it impossible to see when I blushed. That was an excellent costume choice on my part, really. But I quickly shook that off, focusing. I had to say something, had to explain¨Cwhat? How much could I actually tell her? What¡­ what was I going to say to the girl now that she had figured all that out?


    Finally, the solution I settled on was to take a deep breath before starting with, ¡°Yes. I have a reason¨Creasons not to join the Minority or any of the Star-Touched teams. Good reasons. But¡­ I¡¯m not sure¨CI don¡¯t think I should talk about them just yet. For my safety and yours. It¡¯s¡­¡± Oh boy, how much further could I go with this? ¡°It¡¯s dangerous for anyone who knows about it.¡±


    Peyton was silent for a moment. She seemed to be considering that, weighing what I¡¯d said in her mind to figure out if I was blowing her off. Eventually, she gave a short nod. ¡°Sure, I get it. I mean, you barely know me. You don¡¯t know me. If it¡¯s important enough to make you not join any of the Star-Touched teams in the city, then¨C¡± A grimace crossed her face. ¡°It must be pretty bad. And if it¡¯s that bad, it¡¯d be dumb to go babbling about it to every random girl you save twice.¡± There was another pause before she added, ¡°You¡¯re pretty mature for a kid, you know?¡±


    Oh boy did I really not know what to say to that. Or rather, a lot of potential things to say jumped into my head immediately, but none of them would¡¯ve been a good idea. Instead, I coughed before gesturing. ¡°I had to grow up fast. But you¨Cyou¡¯re okay with not being told? Yet. You¡¯re okay with not being told yet.¡± Somehow, I¡¯d figure out if the girl could be trusted with the secret, and if it was a good idea to actually bring her in on it. I just needed time to sort through all of it.


    Her head bobbed a little. ¡°Sure. Like I said, you barely know me. But seriously, if you¡¯re not joining those guys, I¡¯m not joining them. And I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯d get in way too much trouble all by myself out there, especially since I just pissed off that Juice guy when he was like, ¡®raaaawr¡¯ and I was like, ¡®yeet!¡¯ Sooo¡­¡± Trailing off, she gestured to herself, then to me, then to herself, waggling her eyebrows in a way that made me giggle despite myself before I managed to clamp down on it.


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± I made myself quickly put in. ¡°Look, I¡¯m really not sure about the whole¡­ yeah. I¡¯m not sure. But at least I can maybe help you get some idea about how your powers work and all that? You know, if you want. Though you seemed pretty good with them yesterday for just starting. Especially with the whole, uh, yeeting bit.¡± Yeah, that was a memory that made me smile. ¡°I really wish someone got that on camera.¡±


    ¡°What¨Cthey did,¡± Peyton quickly blurted. As I blinked in surprise, she stepped closer and turned, bringing up her phone to show me someone else¡¯s video, apparently from the point of view of one of the hostages who had fled and was hiding around a corner. In the distance, you could see the three of us on the roof as the bolt of lightning hit me, then the way Peyton¡¯s marbles formed the battering ram to slam into Juice. The person recording blurted some kind of half-curse and half-laugh just as the battering ram before shifted into the boxing gloves to hit Juice again, then scooped him up and flung him off into the distance. The half-laugh turned to a full-on guffaw.


    ¡°Uhh, have a lot of people seen this?¡± I asked hesitantly as the video looped back to the beginning for additional sound effects when the Easy Eights lieutenant was sent flying.


    ¡°Depends,¡± Peyton noted, checking the views. ¡°Do you consider three hundred thousand views to be a lot? Wait, you don¡¯t think it makes you look bad or something, do you? Cuz it¡¯s really¨C¡±


    ¡°No!¡± I hurriedly blurted, head shaking rapidly. ¡°No, I think it makes Juice look bad, and he¡¯s gonna be really pissed off at you. At both of us, really. But especially you. I just¨Cuh, be careful, okay? Be really careful. I get the impression he doesn¡¯t take being embarrassed very well.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I got that impression,¡± the other girl muttered under her breath, making a face before shuddering. ¡°Believe me, I¡¯m not about to go knock on his door selling cookies and candy bars.¡± Shrugging then, she added, ¡°But you said you could help me figure out these guys?¡± With those words, the girl gestured to the four differently-colored marbles (silver, white, purple, and bronze) hovering in the air to the right, as well as her two-colored armor (black and gold). ¡°Cuz right now they sorta just do what I think about them doing. Sometimes before I even actually think about it. Are your powers like that? Do they uhh, like, do stuff on their own?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± I replied, stepping closer and taking both of my gloves off before gently reaching out so I could touch the purple marble curiously. It shied away from my hand, then stopped when Peyton looked at it and hovered there as I very gently brushed one finger against it. The thing felt warm, and mostly smooth but with a bit of roughness to it. Sort of like very fine sandpaper, or something like that. It seemed to almost pulse under my touch, making me jump slightly. Which made it jump. Yeah, I swore the thing bounced backward an inch or so in the air. As it did so, the other three quickly flew in as though to defend it. They didn¡¯t snarl or anything, but I was pretty sure they would¡¯ve if it had been possible.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay! It¡¯s okay!¡± Peyton blurted hurriedly, stepping up behind the marbles. ¡°Sorry, they¡¯re just a little nervous and protective.¡± She hesitated before adding, ¡°I¡¯m not sure how I know that. I mean, I¡¯m not just making it up. I can sort of feel what they feel? That¡¯s pretty weird, huh?¡±


    Shrugging, I pointed out, ¡°Lots of powers are weird, believe me. Here, let me try it this way.¡± Reaching out with my palm up, I held it close to the marbles but not quite touching them. Gradually, the purple marble lowered itself, gently touching the end of one finger before it moved to settle in my palm. It was still quivering a little bit, but stayed there while I moved my other hand up and very gently brushed one bare finger along it. After that initial moment, the marble seemed to enjoy the sensation and the others joined it. I gently brushed all of them, before looking toward the other girl. ¡°I think your friends and I are starting to get along.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she confirmed, ¡°these two are jealous. Hang on.¡± With that, the girl seemed to focus briefly, before the gold and black armor melted off of her and transformed back into two more marbles. As soon as they did, the purple and silver marbles lifted off of my hand and flew that way. They formed into new armor for Peyton that looked slightly different. Instead of being a medieval-type chestplate and bracers and such, the new armor looked like it was from one of those Super Sentai shows, or the old Power Rangers stuff. The base suit was purple, with the silver marble making up the outlines and highlight designs up through it. Also, the silver part stretched itself up to cover her neck and throat in a sort of protective sheath before spreading across the bottom half of her face. From there, the purple armor raised itself in the back to cover the back of her head, then up over the top, stopping just above her eyes. The result left her hair entirely concealed while only her eyes and nose were exposed.


    ¡°Whoa,¡± I managed just as the gold and black marbles came over to be petted. ¡°Did you do that yourself?¡± My fingers gently brushed over them while all the remaining marbles crowded up for attention.


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± With that confirmation, Peyton looked down at herself. ¡°Pretty cool, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Definitely cool,¡± I agreed. From there, I started to say something else, but the sound of a car engine drew both of our attention over to the nearby alley. Frowning, I checked to make sure her face was still covered before pulling my gloves back on. ¡°Careful,¡± I murmured. ¡°Might be nothing, but¨C¡±


    By that point, a black SUV with heavily tinted windows had pulled up just in view, through the alley. There was a brief moment of silence and I was about to tell the other girl we were leaving, when the driver-side door opened and a familiar figure stepped out.


    ¡°Cavalcade?¡± I blurted, while Peyton made a noise of surprise behind me. Yeah, it was the Mercenary Sell-Touched woman who made rapid-fire duplicates to simulate super speed. Among other uses.


    ¡°Hey, kid,¡± the woman greeted. ¡°Ah, kids, I guess. Sorry, didn¡¯t mean to scare you. But we need to take a little ride.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± My head shook. ¡°It¡¯s not time to talk to Glitch yet.¡± Behind me, I heard Peyton half-whisper that name, clearly baffled by this whole situation.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re right,¡± Cavalcade confirmed. ¡°This isn¡¯t about Braintrust. It¡¯s about Deicide.


    ¡°She¡¯s calling in that favor.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 8 - The Bees And The Termites

    At one time, a road had led all the way into Merit, Kansas. Back when there had been an actual Merit, Kansas. Before a series of mistakes, overreactions, and bonehead decisions by relatively few people had doomed not only the first contact between humans and an intelligent hive of Touched-Termites. A few paranoid, drunk types who happened to be the first people the termites attempted to contact. They, of course, lashed out and killed a lot of them. Then they went to get their friends to chase down more, trying to wipe out the ¡®monsters.¡¯ By the time anyone with actual authority (or simply a brain between their ears) knew anything about what was going on, the war had already begun. And it was a war the human citizens of Merit lost, as soon as the termites began to melt down every material object in the city with that fog stuff they could project.


    It was Mayor Gilbert Sullivan (yes, he had heard all the jokes) who had made the decision to evacuate. Many in the town had wanted to stay. Now that the fighting had started in earnest, they figured it wouldn¡¯t be hard to stomp on, poison, or otherwise kill the termites if they just stuck it out. But Gilbert, a very young mayor in his mid-twenties, had insisted that the point wasn¡¯t whether they could wipe out the termites, but whether they should. And in his mind, there had been too much death already. Against the advice of several on the city council and his own police chief, Mayor Sullivan had the town evacuated, ordering everyone to take anything they could carry and escape. They¡¯d had fire engines, garbage trucks, police cruisers, every vehicle either owned by the town or capable of being commandeered loaded down with everything and everyone they could carry. And then they had simply left.


    Once the place was evacuated, the military had been called in, and since that day no one had gone within several miles of the town. All access points were blocked off, and the grounds in between were patrolled both on foot and by drones. Until they had some idea of how to settle things with the termites properly, the citizens of Merit had been compensated for their losses out of the funds set up to handle large-scale Touched damages (commonly used to aid neighborhoods and cities in recovering from Collision Points), which itself was funded through a mixture of taxes and merchandise sales across every country who contributed a member to Armistice. For one year, those blockades had stood. After the first couple humans attempting to negotiate had failed to convince the now-rightfully paranoid termites of their peaceful intentions, things had been locked behind politicians debating the situation at the state and national level.


    Finally, one pencil-pusher at a desk somewhere had managed to state an obvious idea to the exact right person at the exact right time. It wasn¡¯t the first time that idea had been bandied about, but in this as in so many other cases, it was about who heard the idea and when.


    In this particular case, the idea was heard and pushed along by the right person, until FBI Agent Izan Deans was finally appointed to follow through. Following through, in that situation, meant traveling to Eastland (soon to be Honeyland), Oregon in order to contact a hive of Touched-Insects that humans actually had pleasant contact with, to ask for their help in negotiating with the Termite hive in order to bring a fully peaceful resolution to the entire messed up scenario everyone had found themselves in.


    His trip to Oregon was successful, and now Izan himself (a Latino man in his early-to-mid thirties with crew-cut black hair and a clean-shaven face) had returned with a few friends in tow in order to have the negotiations with the termites. At least, that was the idea, anyway. In practice, things were a little more complicated. Because of course they were.


    ¡°You need an escort, Agent Deans. I don¡¯t know how to put it any simpler than that.¡± The man talking wore national guard fatigues and wore rank insignia marking him as a colonel. He was clearly close to retirement, or should have been, with a very balding head and the barest wispy hint of white hair. His pale skin was marked by several old scars, while his eyes were sharp, glaring intently at the man in front of him. ¡°No one goes in that town without a squad of my men walking you through. I don¡¯t care what sort of diplomatic namby pamby hakuna matata mission you¡¯re on. You ain¡¯t getting in there without the help of my men.¡±


    ¡°Would that be the men with the flamethrowers, Colonel Rodon?¡± Izan asked, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses so the man in front of him couldn¡¯t see them roll. ¡°Somehow, I think that might give the locals in there the idea that we¡¯re not serious about this being a peaceful talk.¡±


    Straightening up to his full, still less-than-impressive height of five feet, seven inches, Colonel Rodon gave Izan an even harder stare. ¡°And if something happens to you and your little¡­ friends while you¡¯re in there, we end up in an even worse situation. I¡¯m not saying I want to send a whole battalion in there with you. Just a little protection in case things go sideways. Cuz if they do, and those friendly insects you¡¯ve got end up dying, we could go from having a hostile situation with one hive to a hostile situation with two of them. Diplomacy ain¡¯t about looking or being weak.¡±


    ¡°If we may, Colonel.¡± Those words were projected, in perfect chorus, from a small swarm of thirty bees that had flown up in formation together directly to the side of Izan¡¯s head so they could look at Rodon. Their voices were projected from tiny speakers on the bottom of their abdomens that were connected through their brains to a chip on the back of their thoraxes.


    The colonel, for his part, still looked a little disconcerted. But he kept it together and gave a slight nod. ¡°Yeah, what is it, ahhh, what do I call you all anyway?¡±


    ¡°We are Diplomatic Swarm Alpha,¡± came the chorused response from all thirty. ¡°And it would be our pleasure to explain, you would not be at war with our hive-queen should the worst happen due to our choices. We understand this is a dangerous situation, and have all volunteered for this service knowing the risks. The only thing that could lead to a strained relationship would be your refusal to abide by our requests, or those of Agent Deans, causing our deaths.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯d be pretty ticked off too,¡± Deans himself put in casually. ¡°Now, you know what the guy who managed to set this whole thing up said. He got those termites to agree to a meeting with the bees and one human. That¡¯s me. Not one human and a squad with flamethrowers. Not even one human with a flamethrower, before you even suggest it. Me and the bees. The bees and me.¡± Turning his head slightly to look at the insects hovering beside him, he added, ¡°Which of those sounds like the better band name?¡±


    ¡°The Bees And Me,¡± came the immediate response from all thirty insects. ¡°Definitely that one.¡±


    With a nod, the agent turned back toward Rodon. ¡°Look, if you prefer, we can take this up the line and some pencil-pusher behind a desk, or some guy just looking to get re-elected, can tell you what I already said. The risk is mine and theirs to take.¡± He gestured to the bees. ¡°We know what¡¯s at stake here, believe me, Colonel. Let us go in there and see what we can do. I¡¯d say something stupid about the worst thing that could happen, but, I think we both know this whole situation could legitimately get a lot worse. That¡¯s why we¡¯re all here. You¡¯ve been here on guard duty around this town long enough. Let us go in there, talk to these termites, and see if we can get you and your men assigned somewhere else. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d all like to go home and be done with this whole thing.¡±


    There was a long, silent pause while the man stared at him indecisively. Finally, Colonel Rodon heaved a long, heavy sigh. It sounded as though he was going against his better instinct. ¡°Yeah, if I give up this shot at getting out of here, my husband might just kill me himself. Fine. You go in there with the bees. But if you have to come running out again without any clothes cuz those termites went and melted them off your naked tookus, don¡¯t cry to me about it. You understand me, son?¡±


    ¡°Completely, sir,¡± came the response. ¡°No crying about my potentially-naked tookus to you.¡±


    As one, the hovering bees turned in the air to look at their companion. Their combined voices were curious. ¡°Isn¡¯t any body part that is not already literally naked, potentially so?¡±


    ¡°Any body part that is not already naked is potentially naked.¡± Saying that out loud, Deans added, ¡°And with that, you have summed up at least half of the thought process for every teenager between the ages of about thirteen to seventeen.¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± the bees droned, ¡°puberty.¡±


    On that note, the group was waved past the barricade and proceeded to move along the road. Well, for as long as the road lasted. It only went on, pavement wise, for another hundred yards. Then the concrete ended, where the termites have finished stripping it. In its place was a wide dirt path with a single narrow stone walkway that had clearly been recently added. According to the message that Deans had received, going anywhere except on that narrow path would be a bad idea. It would be seen as hostile, and there were members of the termite colony who were watching for just such a betrayal.


    So, he stayed on the path, while his companions flew, mostly silently, beside him. They continued on for another mile or so before reaching the very outskirts of the place that had once been Merit.


    At the end of that mile, a very¡­ interesting sight waited for them. Spaced a couple feet apart all along the remains of the former road were a dozen dogs with wagons hooked to them by harnesses. In the back of each of those wagons was what looked like a small ballistae, complete with a loaded spear. A small glass orb, about five or six inches across, sat at the front of each wagon, and they could see a termite in each. They were clearly the drivers of the dog-powered wagons, waiting right there for the new arrivals.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    We will have your names.


    He had been warned about the telepathic voices, but it still made Deans jump slightly. An act he regretted, but apparently the termites were either cooler headed than the humans they had first met, or they were under very strict orders not to fire unless there was a truly hostile act. Either way, he exhaled and started with, ¡°Agent Izan Deans, with the FBI. You should be expecting me. And this¡­ well, they speak better for themselves.¡± He had intended to introduce them himself, but in that moment, the man had a flash of inspiration that it might go over better if he treated his companions like equals.


    ¡°We are Diplomatic Swarm Alpha,¡± the bees chorused. As a group, they flew ahead of Deans, splitting into two smaller, fifteen-member-sized swarms a moment later. One such group stayed just a few feet in front of him, while the other flew about half the distance closer to the termite-driven wagons.


    It was that second, closer group that spoke next. ¡°It would be our pleasure to speak with you and yours about the troubles you have had with humans.¡±


    Troubles. That single word was filled with a mix of scorn and sorrow. Regret. There was regret there. How much of it was regret that things had gone poorly, and how much was regret that they had even tried, Deans wasn¡¯t sure. All he knew was that this was a chance to fix that.


    Yes, we have had troubles. Those of us who were most excited to speak with humans, those who loved them the most, were slaughtered. Massacred with no mercy or thought. Those are the troubles we have had.


    ¡°Yeah, my people can be real stupid sometimes,¡± Deans announced. ¡°I know you¡¯ve rejected everyone else who¡¯s tried to say it, but there are plenty of us who are horrified by what happened. But then, I think you know that. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve let a few negotiators in now and then. You even trade with a couple people. You haven¡¯t given up entirely. That¡¯s why you agreed to this meeting.¡±


    There was no response to his words. At least, none that he heard. Instead, silence filled the air for a few long seconds before the two bee swarms, which had rejoined one another, simply said, ¡°Yes.¡± At first, he thought they were agreeing with him belatedly. Then there was silence once more before they said, ¡°No. Many people. Yes. Because they are our friends. Yes, we were fortunate.¡±


    He was only hearing one side of the conversation, the man realized. So, he stood silently and waited for another minute of that before a few chimes filled the air and several of the dogs abruptly began to move forward, turning in a wide circle to leave a path open.


    You will all come this way, the voice in his head instructed. Our spokesman awaits. He speaks for the queen. There was a deliberate pause, then, You will never see the queen.


    Yeah, that was fair. Especially after what had happened. Exchanging a look with the bees, Deans began to walk that way. They, or rather he, was escorted on all sides by those ballistae-armed wagons. Which made him nervous, but he kept it in check and just walked.


    There were no houses left in town, nothing the termites could have stripped down and used for their constructions. Practically all he saw that indicated where the town¡¯s buildings had been were a few foundations here and there.


    Eventually they reached what his own studies had said was once where the city hall had stood. Now, like everything else, it was a vacant lot. In the middle was a tree stump that stood about four feet high. Under escort by the dog wagons, he approached that way before coming to a stop directly in front of it. Only then did he see the tiny figure waiting on that stump. It was another termite, though this one was different from the others. Larger than the others, with wings. Not a queen, of course. An alate, if he had the word right. Either way, it perched there, waiting for his approach.


    Agent Deans, Diplomatic Swarm Alpha, the alate¡¯s telepathic voice spoke. Somehow, it ¡®sounded¡¯ different from the one that had been speaking in his head before. I am Horse-Spoon-Eleven. I will be speaking the negotiations on behalf of our queen. Rest assured, she is aware of all that occurs and is said here today. I speak her words. You have been escorted here today by the lead of Bird-Chair-One.


    With a simple nod, Deans replied, ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Horse-Spoon-Eleven. And you too, Bird-Chair-One.¡± He was assuming that was the one who had been speaking before, though that didn¡¯t really answer which wagon had held the one in question. Either way, he continued. ¡°It was my original belief that an actual diplomat would be talking to you with my friends here today. But I was told you refused to talk to anyone except the FBI agent who brought the bees to begin with. Which is funny, because up to that point, we weren¡¯t aware that you knew that an FBI agent was the one bringing them at all.¡±


    We have learned to seek out and treasure intelligence about what our¡­ There was a brief pause before Horse-Spoon-Eleven amended, About what others whose actions may affect us are doing. And we have no desire to entertain the platitudes of those paid to argue for a living. Queen Lion-Sapphire-Zero wishes to speak to you and the emissaries from the Oregon hive. No others.


    ¡°Okay, well¨C¡± Deans started, only to be interrupted.


    Not yet, Agent Deans. Apologies, but we are not prepared to speak with you until we hear directly from the representatives of Apis mellifera. We wish to know¡­ why they work so closely with their own humans. And how.


    Thus began another conversation the man himself was not a part of. This time, however, he was at least able to hear all of it. Standing quietly, he listened as the termite and his bee companions went back and forth about what exactly had led the Honeyland Hive to their current peaceful conditions with the humans there. Once in awhile, another termite approached and demanded to know if the bees wouldn¡¯t be better off on their own rather than relying on ¡®undependable humans.¡¯ But the Diplomatic Swarm insisted that the benefits of cooperation outweighed the risks, and that the humans of the town were their friends.


    Finally, Horse-Spoon-Eleven summed it up as, To our queen, it is seeming that the path to peace is one of usefulness. And yet, we do not believe any level of use would make those of this place wish for our presence. Nor would we feel safe.


    After a brief pause at that until it was clear they were waiting for him, Deans managed a slow nod. ¡°Yeah, we sort of figured that. We don¡¯t see a peaceful resolution coming from you staying here.¡±


    Do tell us, Agent Deans, came the response, how do the humans see this ending?


    Oh boy was this far beyond his pay grade. With a sigh, Deans hesitated before deciding to go all in. ¡°Well, I think it¡¯s safe to say that nobody wins when it comes to our current situation. We know you¡¯ve been building up a bunker, and that it would probably take a hell of a lot to punch through it if the more¡­ trigger-happy among us ever get their way. And we know that you¡¯ve probably got some of your own people spread out anywhere they could get to so they can do a hell of a lot of damage elsewhere if it goes that way. This whole thing goes violent and both our sides are gonna end up losing a lot. Thing is, there¡¯s a lot more people on our side and a lot more stuff. More than you can break. You¡¯d do a lot of damage, but you wouldn¡¯t win. Not in the end. And us? We¡¯re not exactly the good guys any way you slice it. Losing everything your people would wipe out just so we can kill off an intelligent species? Like I said, nobody wins in this situation. Just losers all the way around.¡±


    Yes, that is our estimation too. The termite representative was staring intently at him, which was a disconcerting feeling. At best, such a conflict would be a matter of doing as much damage as possible before your people destroyed us. There was a long pause then, before Horse-Spoon-Eleven added, I was one of those who was most excited to meet the humans before, Agent Deans. I had many friends who were killed by the intolerant among you. A hard lesson to learn, but an important one. There are humans who will never accept us. And yet, as we have both said, this conflict will only end poorly.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s change it,¡± Deans put in. ¡°You¡¯re right, the Honeyland bees have a great relationship with the humans there. Those people are already accustomed to living with Touched-Insects, and they know how useful that can be. I¡¯m sure you can all help each other out.¡±


    You would have us leave the place we have spent all of our time and effort to fortify, to go somewhere new? The tone of the termite¡¯s response wasn¡¯t exactly a refusal, more curiosity.


    Deans, in turn, nodded. ¡°Look, I know you got burned really bad on that leap of faith before. But I don¡¯t think you really have another option here. We¡¯ve already been over it. If this keeps up, everyone loses. At least if you go to Honeyland, your colony has a chance of surviving.¡±


    The response that came was silence. The termite turned away from him, seeming to look off at nothing. He had the impression that it was conferring with others, before finally turning to the bees. Would you trust this man in our situation?


    ¡°Agent Deans has proven himself an honorable human and worthy of respect,¡± Diplomatic Swarm Alpha chorused. ¡°And the humans we live and work alongside would be happy to have a second hive¨Cpardon, colony to work with. We believe that bees and termites could do much good together, for all of our peoples.¡±


    Again, there was silence for awhile as the termites conferred, before Horse-Spoon-Eleven eventually announced, We would have one request. The work that we have put into our bunker cannot be ignored or dismissed. If we are to travel to this Oregon, we would have the bunker extracted and taken with. And we would have you along for every step of that journey, Agent Deans. To avoid any¡­ mistakes.


    Exhaling in relief, Deans gave a short nod. ¡°Of course. Whatever it takes, I¡¯m sure we can work up something. Especially with help from your new partners here.¡± He gestured to the bees. ¡°But I¡¯m going to have to bring some other people in and hammer out the full details.¡±


    One of the dog-pulled carts approached, and Horse-Spoon-Eleven seemed to gesture with one hand. Go with Bird-Chair-One to¡­ hammer these details, as you say. We will await hearing more.


    The winged termite then sat silently upon the stump while the human and his bee companions moved off with their designated escort. Only once they were out of earshot did another voice speak. Another human voice.


    ¡°Does this mean our deal is off?¡±


    Horse-Spoon-Eleven turned to where two human figures in metal armor had appeared from seemingly thin air. No. It is as I believe you humans say, do not put all of your eggs in one basket. We will send half of our colony to this Honeyland to see what the humans there have to offer. The other half will fulfill our agreement with you. We will come to your city and work as you would like, in exchange for your protection and aid.


    ¡°Excellent,¡± the male figure murmured. ¡°That¡¯s excellent news, isn¡¯t it, White?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, Gold,¡± the female figure agreed. ¡°And have no fear, Horse-Spoon-Eleven.


    ¡°The Ministry will take very good care of you and yours. We keep our deals.¡±

 Building Connections 16-09

    Well, this was just great. Absolutely perfect, really. I¡¯d set out to find a way to gently tell Peyton that she shouldn¡¯t be too involved in my situation (or at least figure out how to keep her out of the worst of it), and now look at what was going on. Because of course things couldn¡¯t just be simple for once. That would be too easy. Naturally, Deicide had to call in her favor right then.


    I tried to tell Cavalcade that the other girl wasn¡¯t involved in this. But she insisted that both of us come with her. Apparently the fact that Peyton had been seen helping me last night, combined with the girl being here right now, convinced her that we were just what the news said. Partners, sidekicks, whatever. Either way, she said Deicide wanted me ¡®and my new friend.¡¯ Though she did pause a bit and note that Peyton looked different than she had yesterday. But the marbles were right, and she thoughtfully murmured something about shapeshifting materials. Yeah, she wasn¡¯t an idiot. The guys last night would¡¯ve reported about a girl with marbles that could transform into things (like the huge battering ram that hit Juice before turning into boxing gloves that hurled him off into the sky), and there had been video of it. Peyton wearing different armor right now wasn¡¯t going to fool Cavalcade into thinking she was someone else.


    I considered several options, but the truth was that I really did owe Deicide. She¡¯d helped save Blackjack¡¯s daughter, and she could¡¯ve held out for a lot more than a favor. Plus, I was kind of afraid that pissing her off might just give Janus and Juice the excuse they needed to really come after me (or even Peyton if they saw her) with the full force of their whole gang. And that was something I really didn¡¯t want to deal with. I kind of had enough problems as it was.


    So, with a quiet murmur to the other girl that it would all be okay, I gestured to the SUV. ¡°Guess we¡¯re all going for a little ride then, huh? Do we need to worry about grabbing dinner on the way? Please tell me we won¡¯t need sleeping bags. I do not do well at slumber parties.¡±


    Cavalcade chuckled lightly under her breath. ¡°This shouldn¡¯t be a long trip. But, tell you what, if you¡¯re still hungry when it¡¯s done, I¡¯ll grab you both whatever you want to eat on our way back. Think of it as my way of saying sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on here.¡± Belatedly, she added in my direction, ¡°And you should tell your friend over there that she can stop shaking. It¡¯s all fine. We¡¯re¨Cokay, we¡¯re not friends here. But I¡¯m not taking you to see Juice or Janus. That ain¡¯t the type of thing I¡¯m into. They can do their own dirty work. Besides, Deicide already told them to back off. Which is another reason you might want to keep her happy.¡±


    Reaching out, I took Peyton¡¯s hand and leaned in close to whisper once more, ¡°It¡¯s okay. Trust me, nothing bad is gonna happen. Better if we just go along with this for now, I promise.¡±


    She, in turn, gave me a brief, clearly appraising look before nodding. Her hand rose, and the four remaining marbles flew down, disappearing into a hole that had appeared in the arm of her purple and silver armor.


    The two of us started to the vehicle while the other girl murmured under her breath, ¡°Do you want to tell me why you owe the leader of the Easy Eights a favor? Cuz, last time I checked, they¡¯re the bad guys. Actually, they¡¯re the bad guys who tried to kill both of us yesterday.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like she said,¡± I replied quietly, ¡°this isn¡¯t about Juice or Janus. Deicide¡¯s their boss. She outranks them. More to the point, she scares them. And yeah, I owe her a favor. She¡­ uhh¡­¡± Climbing in the back of the vehicle as my words trailed off, I reached out to help Peyton up while really hoping I wasn¡¯t making a mistake by going along with this. Once we were in, I gave her a quick version of what had happened, basically telling the girl that in order to save Blackjack¡¯s innocent daughter, we had needed to get all her medicine vials. I told her that Deicide had one of them and had promised to hand it over in exchange for a favor from both the La Casa leader himself and me.


    For a few seconds after I finished telling her that, Peyton just stared at me. She seemed to start to say something once or twice, only to trail off. In the end, the only thing she could manage to say was a slightly weak, ¡°You¡¯re a really busy person, you know that?¡±


    The words made Cavalcade, who had started the SUV and begun pulling out of the lot by then, chuckle. ¡°She¡¯s got you there, Paintball. You are not exactly one to coast along.¡± With that, she turned a bit to look over her shoulder at us. ¡°And speaking of ¡®she¡¯, what do I call you, girl? Cuz I don¡¯t think something like ¡®Paintball¡¯s Sidekick¡¯ is gonna cut it for very long.¡±


    ¡°Um.¡± Now Peyton managed to look a bit embarrassed despite only her nose and eyes being visible. ¡°Yeah, I thought about that all day. You know, trying to figure out a name that fit me. It¡¯s really hard!¡± After that outburst, she coughed and slumped a bit in the seat. ¡°Um, I kinda threw out a bunch of ideas for being too dumb or derivative or whatever. Like, I thought about Armsmaster, but that just sounds weird. Plus I¡¯m not a master of anything. I¡¯m like¡­ Armsamateur and that¡¯s silly. And Blacksmith is too close to Silversmith, so it sounds like I¡¯m trying to play off his name, which is just¡­ ehhh. Not really what I¡¯m going for.¡±


    Boy oh boy did I not want her to do anything that attracted my father¡¯s attention, like having a name that was similar to his. Keeping my voice flat, I agreed, ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s make it your name.¡±


    ¡°Then I started thinking about other words,¡± the girl went on. ¡°I thought of like¡­ I keep making armor and weapons, so a knight sort of deal. Something like an assistant sort of knight in training. Like uhh, squire or a page.¡±


    The last suggestion almost made me audibly choke before I caught myself. I had to take a second to make sure my voice wouldn¡¯t be strained before managing, ¡°I think we can do better than page.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Slumping with a groan, Peyton lamented, ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s hard. Hey, Lady Kidnapper, you¡¯ve been doing this for a long time, do you have any suggestions?¡±


    ¡°First off, I¡¯m not kidnapping you,¡± Cavalcade retorted. ¡°You¡¯re just going to have a conversation that your friend there agreed to have. You¡¯ll be fine. Trust me, we¡¯ve been through this before. And this time I¡¯m not even making the kid hire me to get you out of there. And I could¡¯ve, you know. But I¡¯m already being paid enough to bring you here.¡±


    While Peyton gave me a quick, confused look at that little tidbit, I waved her off while trying not to squirm too uncomfortably. ¡°Never mind that. What about a name like uhh¡­ Artisan?¡±


    ¡°Nah, that just makes me sound like a sandwich,¡± she objected. ¡°See? Told you it¡¯s hard.¡±


    Cavalcade spoke up then, having thought for the past few seconds. ¡°From what I heard, it sounds like you make those little marble things into whatever you want, like your armor and weapons. You make things, so what about something like Artificer? Or Alloy, for the way you mix them together. Or just Marble. I mean, that¡¯s what they look like.¡±


    Thinking back to the names I had thought through before settling on Paintball, I put in, ¡°There¡¯s Chrome or Chromatic too. Or Facade, cuz you¡¯re making sort of¡­artificial armor and stuff? Or¡­ wait a second.¡± Taking one of my phones out, I typed on it briefly. ¡°Hang on, where¡­ okay so turns out no one knows where marbles were first invented. But they were first mass produced by someone named Sam Dyke¨CI suggest staying away from that name, in Akron, Ohio. Maybe Akron? One sec, let me make sure that¡¯s not a bad word. Uhhh, right, apparently it comes from an old Greek word for a summit or a high point.¡±


    ¡°Akron? You think I should name myself after the city in Ohio?¡± After saying that, Peyton breathed out. ¡°Yeah, maybe. Everything sounds weird right now.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Between the three of us, we went back and forth a bunch. Other options we came up with included Smelt, which Peyton mostly nixed based on the jokes people would play with that involving smelled, Chromatic Knight or Chroknight, Galatea for the mythological story about the statue that came to life, Mercurial, Shine, twisting Marble to Marbull, Marbelous, or Marball, Stoneshape, Iris, Palette, Color Wheel, Hexaknight, Orbits, Metallia, the Colored Cavalier, Hexalidin, or even Armory for the fact that she could make so many weapons and such out of her marbles.


    ¡°Or,¡± the girl finally suggested, ¡°I could go with something closer to like¡­ your thing. You know, something like Pinball. Or Gumball. Those both look sorta like these marble things and they fit the Paintball theme.¡±


    ¡°I have a theme now?¡± I managed, flushing a bit behind the mask. The two of us kind of shrugged at each other, both clearly trying to find the right thing to say.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll have to set aside some more time to think about it later,¡± Cavalcade informed us. ¡°Cuz we¡¯re here.¡± She had pulled the SUV into an old rundown motel, bypassing the front office before pulling backwards into a spot just in front of the room at the furthest end of the building. ¡°For now I suggest you just answer to ¡®hey you.¡¯ Head inside. I¡¯ll wait here for you to come out, then take you wherever you wanna go. You know, after we grab food. And hey, good luck.¡±


    Squinting at the woman while opening the door, I muttered, ¡°You get a kick out of saying stuff to make people nervous, don¡¯t you, Miss Oh You¡¯ll Be Fine It¡¯s Just A Conversation?¡±


    She made an obvious snorting sound at that, waving me off. ¡°You will be fine and it is just a conversation. But hey, I¡¯ve gotta get my fun somewhere, don¡¯t I? Now go on, get in there. I¡¯d like to get this over with at some point so I can get on with my life. I don¡¯t exactly get paid by the hour here.¡±


    There were a few things I wanted to say to that, but I stopped myself. Actually, it was weird how well I got along with the Sell-Touched woman, given basically every time I saw her, she was escorting me to a conversation I didn¡¯t want to have. Huh, that was kind of a thing by now, wasn¡¯t it? It was a little weird how many times it had happened already.


    Before going into the motel room, I stopped and put a hand against Peyton¡¯s arm. ¡°Listen, you don¡¯t have to get more involved in this. No matter what she says, you don¡¯t owe her a favor. I do. So don¡¯t worry about it, okay? Whatever she wants to happen, if it¡¯s something I can do without¡­ you know, compromising myself, then I¡¯ll pay her back. You don¡¯t need to do anything.¡± Pausing briefly, I added in an even quieter voice, ¡°And once we¡¯re out of this, if you want to take off and never talk to me again, I¡¯ll understand. Trust me, I more than get it.¡±


    Peyton, however, shook her head. ¡°I may not know much about what¡¯s going on, but it sounds like you did the right thing. I mean, it¡¯s not that kid¡¯s fault her dad is a villain. Besides, there¡¯s a lot worse villains than him out there.¡± Then she shrugged. ¡°Plus, if helping with whatever she wants done makes her keep that big electric asshole off me, then it¡¯s kind of a win-win.¡±


    Much as I hated to say it, she had a point. The Easy Eights were kept together despite lots of bad blood between them, and their individual lieutenants, out of the sheer power of Deicide and the threat of what she would do if she was annoyed at them. If she told them to stay away from us, or at least not to take it too far, they would follow the instructions. Basically, I was pretty sure they were more afraid of their boss than they were pissed at Peyton and me. So far, at least.


    So, after exchanging brief looks, the two of us moved to the motel room door and I opened it before stepping in first. Whatever happened next, I wanted to put myself in front of the other girl.


    On the other side was an ordinary, incredibly dinky motel room. There was just a single bed, a long, low cabinet with a television bolted to it, an open closet with a couple metal hangers, and a bathroom. Oh, and a microwave next to the television. Finally, beside a small wooden table next to the bed, Deicide herself stood. She looked as imposing as ever, a tall, clearly feminine-armored figure made of bits of paper and pages torn from novels. A dozen more books hovered around her, half-open. When we came in, she looked our way before the open books began to randomly flip through pages. Words on the pages glowed before being spoken aloud in a booming female voice that came from the books themselves. ¡°Paintball, and your new friend, welcome. Thank you for coming on such short notice.¡± The sentences were put together from words in different books, but there was no real pause between them. She had fine enough control over her power to speak in full, complete sentences simply by making the books around her flip to the right page and read out a word or two before the next one took over.


    It was impressive, yeah. But why did she do that? Was it just to show off and be impressive? Why didn¡¯t the woman herself ever actually speak? Was there a reason for that? As someone who had to hide and disguise my own voice, maybe I was just projecting onto her. And yet, something was niggling at my brain. It felt like there was something there.


    Still, I pushed the thought back and offered the woman a shrug. ¡°Oh, you know, it¡¯s not like we had anything better to do.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°Now, yesterday, we had some stuff to deal with. You know, like your people terrorizing a bunch of innocent civilians and trying to burn down their shops, destroy their livelihood, and use them as hostages. Just a few little things like that.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if the way Deicide spoke through the books allowed for intonations subtle enough to portray things like guilt or regret. But if she was capable of that, it didn¡¯t show up here as she simply replied, ¡°The Easy Eights are at best a loose alliance of forces. I hold them together at the top, but if I squeeze too hard, it will fall apart. And then Cu¨¦lebre and his gang will run over our fractured groups, gaining themselves even more power than they already have. Juice has been informed that he is not to direct his efforts to come after either of you until such time as I rescind such an order. That said, should you put yourselves in his direct path again, he will react accordingly. He will not expend effort to hunt you down, but nor will he avoid you should you be in his way or interfere again. What the three of you get up to in the middle of a battlefield is up to you. That is the most I can offer right now. And its continuance hinges on you fulfilling your side of our bargain.¡±


    ¡°Right, that whole favor thing.¡± Grimacing, I let out a breath and glanced to see how Peyton was doing. She was silent, just staring at the Fell-Touched in front of us, so I turned back to Deicide and asked, ¡°What exactly is it you need me to do? Don¡¯t forget, I already said I wouldn¡¯t do anything that would hurt people. Or lead to people being hurt.¡±


    The paper-armored woman gave a very slight nod. ¡°Of course, that was our agreement. As promised, the thing I wish for you to do does not entail harming or leading to anyone¡¯s harm. Well, perhaps your own should you fail, but that is the sort of risk one takes. In fact, I dare say this is something that would greatly help this city and all the innocent civilians you care about so much, should you pull it off.¡±


    Okay, now I was curious. Which was clearly the intention, but still. Manipulation or not, it worked. Folding my arms, I slowly asked, ¡°Help the city, huh? So, what exactly do you want?¡±


    The answer came immediately. ¡°I think you would both agree that the Scions of Typhon are a much greater threat to the safety of this city than anyone in my organization, yes?¡±


    ¡°Wha¨Care you fucking crazy?¡± That was Peyton. ¡°We¡¯re not going after the Scions! I don¡¯t care how much he owes you.¡± She gestured to me. ¡°That¡¯s suicide and you know it. You can¡¯t call in a favor to ask someone to go after those fucking psychopaths. Go jump off a fucking bridge!¡± With her outburst, the gold, white, bronze, and black marbles flew into view. The first two transformed into a pair of kite shields and hovered protectively in front of us while the remaining two combined to form a massive sword that was almost too large for the room.


    ¡°Stop,¡± I quickly put in, putting a hand on her arm. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what she¡¯s asking. At least, I hope she¡¯s not dumb enough to think that would fly.¡±


    Sure enough, Deicide (who hadn¡¯t moved or shown any reaction to the transforming marbles) raised one hand with her palm out. ¡°Easy. No, of course not. I happen to have some experience with assigning the right resources to the right problems. And while you may have had some luck in the past, you are not the right resource to point at the Scions. No, this isn¡¯t about sending you after them. But I do want them to be taken off the board, just as I¡¯m sure you do. That¡¯s where this favor comes in. There is a witness, someone who experienced Pencil early on in his career. I believe she may know something important about how his power works, a way to exploit or stop it.¡±


    ¡°If there¡¯s some special witness, why hasn¡¯t she helped the cops or Stars?¡± I put in.


    ¡°She has been in hiding for quite awhile, out of fear of what that¡­ man will do to her if given another chance,¡± came the answer. ¡°But we¡¯ve finally narrowed down her location enough that it should be possible to find her. I want to bring her in to answer questions, but I do not wish to traumatize the girl even more. Hence, sending you. That is my request for this favor. Find and speak with this survivor, ask what she knows about Pencil. She¡¯s more likely to speak to a Star-Touched, particularly one like you.¡±


    ¡°One like¨Cnever mind.¡± Shaking that off, I asked, ¡°So who is this mythical early survivor of Pencil who could maybe help take him down?¡±


    ¡°Her name,¡± Deicide informed us, ¡°is Amanda Sanvers.¡±

 Building Connections 16-10

    Deicide didn¡¯t know exactly where this Amanda Sanvers was, of course. That would have been too easy. Instead, she had a list of possible last locations, along with people who had spoken to the girl somewhat recently and might be able to give a better idea of where she was. Apparently Deicide was worried that if she or her people dug any deeper than that, Sanvers herself would hear about it and go even deeper into hiding out of paranoia that they were somehow working for the monster who had traumatized her so much years ago.


    She also told us a bit more about that situation, about how a very early Pencil, before even taking up leadership of the Scions, had taken this girl¡¯s family prisoner. Apparently, on camera, he had forced Amanda¡¯s parents to shoot each other in order to save the lives of both Amanda and her brother. Nick Sanvers had completely disappeared within a year, something about going to an Alaskan oil rig to work. But Amanda had stuck around for one reason or another, mostly going underground, changing her name repeatedly, that sort of thing. From what Deicide knew, it sounded like the girl was staying specifically to testify against Pencil if they ever managed to catch him. So the police and Star-Touched kept her somewhat informed about how their various investigations into the Scions were going. It wasn¡¯t really by-the-book, but they were impressed by how tough she was to not take off for another continent. And honestly, so was I. If she had experienced Pencil firsthand and still wanted to stick around to testify against him given the chance? Yeah, she was pretty brave.


    Brave, but not entirely stupid. Hence the whole changing her name and disappearing thing. A couple of the authorities knew how to contact her, but even they had to jump through certain hoops to do so. She refused to go into normal witness protection. Something about not trusting it and wanting to manage on her own. Which, apparently she was pretty good at if the girl was still alive after all this time. So yeah, kudos to her.


    Which, of course reminded me of a certain other person who had stayed hidden from the Scions for a long time now. Robert¨CBobby Parson, my old driver and the man who had apparently saved me back when my own grandfather had sent his men to kill Anthony and his family, and to abduct me. Yeah, Bobby was another one I needed to find. I had the feeling that he would be able to answer even more questions about my family. Especially considering everything I¡¯d already found. Like the toys in his cabin with the code that had led me to find out more about Paige. Why did he have those there? And where was he now? Had he just gone deeper after finding out Pencil had gotten so close to finding him? And why was Pencil really after him? If the psychopath was that obsessed with tracking him down, it had to be something pretty important, right?


    Whatever, the point was, I had a lot to deal with. Right now, I really had to focus on finding a different member of the ¡®stay the fuck away from Pencil society.¡¯ I had to focus on finding Amanda Sanvers.


    Okay, that wasn¡¯t exactly the immediate concern. That, at the moment, was looking at me from across the roof both of us were standing on a few minutes after Cavalcade had dropped us off. She was just finishing the sandwich that the mercenary had insisted on picking up for us. I had one too, but wasn¡¯t eating it yet. It was still wrapped up and tucked into one of the pockets of my suit for later.


    Taking a breath, I focused on Peyton. ¡°Look, you really don¡¯t need to be involved in any of this. Trust me, you don¡¯t want to. Like I said, you don¡¯t owe Deicide anything. And you definitely don¡¯t owe me enough to put your neck anywhere near this shit.¡±


    Peyton just stared at me. ¡°Dude, you¡¯re like¡­ what, a thirteen-year-old kid? You shouldn¡¯t be anywhere near this shit either. But you are, for some reason. Maybe that paper chick¡¯s right about this Sanvers girl talking to you because you¡¯re not a threat. But like, that brings up a good question. If Amanda Sanvers has been like¡­ you know, cooperating with the authorities and trying to bring Pencil down, why does Deicide think she¡¯s got this top secret information about his power or whatever?¡±


    ¡°I asked her about that when you went out with Cavalcade and I stayed behind for a minute,¡± I informed her. ¡°Apparently this Amanda girl thinks that the only reason Pencil hasn¡¯t like¡­ totally gone after her is because he believes she doesn¡¯t know anything important about him. According to Deicide, Amanda saying she¡¯d cooperate with the cops and then supposedly not being able to tell them anything useful is her way of letting the Scions know they don¡¯t need to come after her. I mean, think about it. Pencil doesn¡¯t really care about leaving witnesses. They know what he is and what he¡¯s done. It¡¯s not like he¡¯s thinking ahead that much to a trial or whatever. The only thing that would make him come after her hard is if he thought she knew something dangerous about him, something that could bring him down or expose a weakness. So, Amanda makes it clear she¡¯s trying to help the cops but can¡¯t tell them anything helpful. Which reassures Pencil so he has no real reason to expend that much effort looking for her, because if she did know anything, she would¡¯ve told them.¡±


    Peyton considered that for a moment, running it through in her head before nodding. ¡°I guess that makes sense. But what makes Deicide think this girl actually does know something big?¡±


    I shrugged at that. ¡°Something about hearing it through a friend of a friend of a friend, or whatever. Amanda said something to someone that made it sound like she might know a secret about Pencil¡¯s power, and it got back to Deicide.¡± With that, I shook my head. ¡°But seriously, like I said, you don¡¯t need to be involved in this, Peyton. This is way, way too much to ask.¡±


    She, however, shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not going after the Scions, dude. No fucking way. I don¡¯t¨CI¡¯m scared. Yeah, I¡¯m too scared for that. But if this girl¨Cif she really does know something that can stop those assholes from¨C¡± She choked a bit on her words, blanching while her arms folded across her stomach. The floating marbles that weren¡¯t part of her armor hovered protectively in front of her. ¡°Everyone knows what Pencil does to people. If this Amanda girl really does know something that can help stop him? I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s Deicide or the Star-Touched, the military, or the freaking Smurfs who pull it off. Getting rid of that bastard is a good thing. And if I can help do that just by helping you track down this girl? Then¡­ then I wanna be a part of that.¡±


    Squirming on her feet, the girl quietly added, ¡°I was¡­ scared¨Cterrified when that asshole and his friends abducted me, and they didn¡¯t even have any powers. Then yesterday with Juice and those fucking¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she gave a quick shake of her head, eyes closing briefly as she pulled it together. ¡°I¡¯ve been really scared, so I know what that¡¯s like. But I can¡¯t even imagine what it¡¯s like to be one of his victims. I can¡¯t¨C¡± The girl swallowed hard, clearly afraid even as she pushed on. ¡°Even if all I do is help a little bit, I wanna help stop other people from feeling as terrified as I was before. No, even more terrified, because¡­ because the Scions are worse. All the things they¡¯ve done, everything they like to¡­¡± Again, she trailed off, taking a moment to collect herself before forcing the last words out. ¡° Please. I just want to help.¡±


    Well, shit, what exactly was I supposed to say to that? No, you¡¯re not allowed to be brave? No, you can¡¯t contribute to helping people, only I¡¯m allowed to do that? Wait a minute, was this how people like That-A-Way had felt about me throwing myself into danger while refusing to join their team (before she understood why I¡¯d done that)? Hell, was this what people felt in general about me doing this sort of stuff? Or worse, since as far as they knew I was like, twelve or thirteen?


    Eesh, how did they deal with it?


    Shaking that off, I finally agreed, ¡°Okay. I mean, I¡¯m not sure how it¡¯ll go, but yeah. If you wanna help out, that could be cool. And we can like¡­ talk about doing some other Star-Touched stuff together, if you still want. You know, to help people and to help you figure out exactly how your power works.¡± Taking in a breath and letting it out as I struggled not to show my own nervousness about this whole situation, I faced the girl. ¡°If you really want to join me and my friends, and just¡­ help people without being part of a real team, then¡­ then that¡¯s cool.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    I wasn¡¯t going to tell her the full truth about the Ministry. Not yet. But I could ease her into things, take her to meet Trevithick and the others there. Which would also, hopefully, mean Wren would have another person to come help in case something bad happened at the shop. Yeah, yeah this was a good thing. And if eventually it turned out Peyton really could be trusted with the Ministry information, that had to be good too, right?


    Anyway, it was the best plan I had right now. Yeah, it wasn¡¯t perfect and there were definitely still ways it could go wrong. Not to mention the guilt I would feel if Peyton got hurt specifically because she was hanging around me and all my problems. But it wasn¡¯t up to me to tell her she couldn¡¯t help. And I couldn¡¯t bring myself to send her off to the Minority while knowing what I did about how she would likely be exploited and used. So, this was the best compromise I had.


    While Peyton was about to respond to that, the Touched-business phone in my pocket buzzed. Turning a bit, I took it out and glanced at the screen. There was a text from Wren, saying she really needed to talk to me asap, along with a few ambulance and police emojis. Then there was an added note that there were no cops and that she and the others were fine but it really was super-important bordering on emergency and¨Cyeah, she went on a bit in several texts. Clearly, something big had happened but it wasn¡¯t to the point of active gunfire or anything, and they weren¡¯t in immediate life and death danger. But it was still an emergency. One she apparently didn¡¯t want to get into over the phone for whatever reason.


    So, exhaling, I sent back a message that I would be there soon and that I was bringing our new friend. With that, I looked back to Peyton. ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯m needed back at¡­ okay, there are some things I need to tell you. I¡¯ll do it on the way. That is, if you still want to come?¡±


    Peyton, in turn, nodded quickly. ¡°I¡¯m in. I mean, I¡¯m as in as you want right now, I guess. I mean¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she simply shrugged. ¡°I wanna help. I wanna participate. I um, hold on.¡± Pivoting, she took her own phone out, which had apparently started buzzing as well. Transforming the helmet to expose her mouth so her voice wouldn¡¯t be muffled at all, she started talking brightly. ¡°Hey, Mom! Nope, like I said, I¡¯m just fine. Uh huh. Oh right, the password is peppermint patty. Uh huh. Yes, I¡¯m positive. Thanks. Yep, I¡¯ll be good. Bye. Bye!¡± Repeating the last word emphatically, she hit the disconnect button and exhaled. ¡°Sorry, Mom¡¯s been a bit¡­ protective ever since the you-know-what happened. If I don¡¯t give her the password she thinks someone¡¯s holding a gun to my head to make me say everything¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°So, definitely not gonna tell her what you¡¯re up to now, huh?¡± I put in mildly.


    Blanching, the girl shook her head quickly. ¡°Not on your life. She¡¯d never understand. I mean, I love her, she loves me, all that stuff. But she¡¯d never really understand that¡­ that I have to help make sure no one else feels helpless like I did.¡± Squaring her shoulders, Peyton faced me, the mask returning to cover the bottom of her face once more. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go.¡±


    With a nod, I turned to the edge of the roof. ¡°Right, let¡¯s get¨C¡± I¡¯d taken two steps before stopping with my leg raised. Pivoting back, I blanched a bit. ¡°Uhhh, right. I¡¯m not sure how we get you over there. Think you could run alongside me and I could paint you to places once we¨C¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Check this out.¡± With that, the girl looked toward the marbles hovering nearby. ¡°Show him, guys.¡±


    Immediately, the gold and white marbles flew into one another before starting to shift and grow. Soon, what looked like a gold surfboard with white trim literally hovered there in the air beside the girl. Peyton, in turn, floated up off the roof herself. She literally floated up a foot or so in the air. ¡°I can make the armor lift me up,¡± she announced. ¡°Sorta like flying. The armor floats and I go with it. But I don¡¯t really um, have the hang of it yet. Hard to keep focusing on it while the armor pulls and pushes my¨Cyeah. It¡¯s easier to do this.¡±


    With a gesture from one hand, she sent the floating surfboard under her feet before landing on it. ¡°See? My armor bonds to it, so¡­¡± To demonstrate, she flew up another few feet before the board turned upside down with Peyton still attached. She dangled there, hanging from her feet. Or rather, from the boots of her armor, which were firmly attached to the board. ¡°Can¡¯t fall off!¡±


    ¡°Hah, dude¡­¡± Despite myself, I was grinning. ¡°That¡¯s cool.¡± It seriously was. I¡¯d wondered if the fact that her marbles and the things they made could hover would mean the armor could actually fly, but it made sense that the armor yanking her around through the air wouldn¡¯t be super comfortable. Maybe she¡¯d get used to that or learn to adjust how she made it move so that she could actually fly normally with it eventually. In the meantime, the hoverboard (or was that flyboard?) was an amazing compromise.


    ¡°Right?!¡± Clearly grinning behind the helmet, Peyton flipped herself rightside up. ¡°Now I can keep up with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, can you?¡± Feeling myself start to smirk, I glanced toward the edge of the roof. ¡°Let¡¯s find out.¡±


    First, of course, I texted Izzy to let her know something came up over at Wren¡¯s that I had to check out and that she should definitely go see that second movie.


    That done, I told Peyton what area of town we were going to, using a landmark she was familiar with. Then I gave her a short nod, a thumbs up, and took off running while activating the green wings I had painted onto my shoes. Behind me, Peyton shouted something about cheating, before taking off on her board just as I reached the edge of the roof and used blue paint to spring up and forward through open air in a long flip. Instantly, as soon as my body righted itself, I used red paint to yank myself the rest of the way to a billboard, adding a bit of blue against the sign itself to spring up and forward even further.


    As I landed on the next roof, Peyton on her flying surfboard was just gliding past the sign I had bounced off of. She was crouched a bit on bent knees, urging the board to go faster to catch up with ¡®that dork.¡¯ The girl was clearly saying the last part loud enough for me to hear, so I painted a face with its tongue out on my back just before activating another bit of green I had pre-painted to keep my speed boost going as I popped my skates out and practically flew along the edge of that roof.


    That continued over the next few buildings. I built up a lead while running with the green paint active, but I couldn¡¯t keep it going forever. Peyton would close the gap with her steady speed and ability to fly straight over or around any obstacle, while I used red paint to pull myself ahead every time we hit the edge of a roof. Once in awhile, she pulled ahead, then I would use a combination of blue, red, and green paint to regain the lead.


    It was¡­ fun. That¡¯s all there was to it. We laughed, teasing each other and making up ridiculous claims or faux-threats while she flew upside down over my head and swatted the back of my helmet, or when I used red paint against her board to propel myself past her in one spot where there was a large gap between buildings. I could see some people on the street stopping and noticing, but mostly I was just paying attention to trying my level best to stay ahead of Peyton.


    Then she got creative. Just as I was increasing my lead again, something thin, long, and metallic went flying past me. It looked like a whip with a grappling hook attached, which latched onto the corner of the building I had just been about to jump to. Twisting around, I saw Peyton still on her board. She had one hand extended, while the black and bronze marbles had combined to transform into that whip-grapple thing. Even as I watched, flatfooted for a second, the grapple-whip (it was a good fifty feet long, just very thin) retracted, yanking her forward and past me even faster than she could fly. Now she was getting the benefit of the two marbles that made up the board and the two that made up the whip-grapple.


    ¡°Wha¨Chey!¡± Just as the girl flew past me with a cackle, I sprang to leap after her. ¡°Totally cheating, you¡¯re not supposed to figure out new tricks to your power before I get to beat you!¡±


    Her response, of course, was more cackling.


    From there, things were even closer. Peyton had worked out that she could separate the black and bronze marbles into separate but shorter whip-grapples, lashing them forward to either side of her to catch hold of things and then pull herself forward. Or she could combine them for the longer one whenever it was needed to reach something further away. She used them not only for additional speed, but also for fine course corrections. They let her spin around corners much faster. It was pretty damn cool, honestly. What she was doing was kind of a mix between hoverboarding and like¡­ grappling her way from building to building.


    Still, I had been doing this for a bit longer. I knew my way around the city like this, especially when it came to getting over to Wren¡¯s place. So, at the last second, I took an alley shortcut that was practically invisible until you were right on top of it, coming out to land on the roof we¡¯d agreed to meet at just barely ahead of the other girl. There, I jumped up and down with my fists up even as Peyton landed beside me, her board and whips turning back into marbles.


    ¡°Next time!¡± she declared. ¡°I am so gonna beat you when we go again.¡±


    Snorting at that, I headed for the edge of the roof. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll see. Come on, whatever¡¯s happening, Trevithick made it sound pretty important.


    ¡°So let¡¯s go see what¡¯s on fire this time.¡±

 Building Connections 16-11

    On the way through the back alleys to the shop, I explained who Trevithick was (as well as what the name meant). It was all stuff I¡¯d meant to tell her as we were making our way through the city, but then our little race thing happened and well, here we were. So, I just filled her in with the brief SparkNotes version. As we approached the back door, I mentioned that the kid was pretty young, and asked if she would have a problem working with someone like that.


    I clearly hadn¡¯t thought that question through entirely, because Peyton looked at me pointedly and asked, ¡°Young like you? Because I¡¯m pretty good with that. I don¡¯t think I get to judge what a kid can do after one saved my life like¡­ twice within the same month, dude.¡±


    Burying my annoyance at being seen as a kid again beneath the much more useful fact that my disguise was stopping anyone from suspecting who I really was, especially my parents, I nodded once. ¡°Younger than me.¡± It was the literal truth, after all. Wren really was younger than me.  I just wasn¡¯t specific about how much younger. ¡°She¡¯s a kid. But she¡¯s a genius Tech-Touched.¡±


    That said, I reached up to hit the buzzer. But before I could, the back door was flung open, and Murphy stood there, looking back and forth between the two of us for a moment before seeming to realize who Peyton was. ¡°Ohhh, it¡¯s marble girl. You changed your armor.¡± With that, she looked the other girl up and down briefly as though judging it. ¡°I like this one better.¡±


    Peyton, in turn, stared at her briefly before turning to me. ¡°She¡¯s not younger than you.¡±


    Exactly how many times was I going to be tempted to blow my cover within a five minute span? Seriously, I was starting to think this was just gonna be a thing going forward. Exhaling, I shook my head and gestured between them. ¡°This is Murphy, she¡¯s¡­ helping. It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°He caught me and my friend, Roald, after we broke into a gas station to steal food, and told us we could be his minions and help out around here or whatever instead of going to jail,¡± Murphy promptly summed up. Then she looked at me and added, ¡°It¡¯s really not that long of a story.¡±


    Peyton, meanwhile, had turned to look at me with obvious incredulity. ¡°Wait, you have minions?¡±


    Before I could respond to that, Murphy put in (with a voice that was basically the most cheerful I had ever heard her sound), ¡°Just for now. But I think if we do a good job, he might upgrade us to henchpeople.¡± That, of course, was accompanied by the girl raising both hands to show her crossed fingers. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s when we get the matching uniforms.¡±


    Shaking my head, I gestured for the girl to step back so we could come in. Once the door was closed behind us, I asked, ¡°So where¡¯s Trevithick? Upstairs?¡±


    ¡°Who?¡± Murphy blinked at me before remembering. ¡°Oh, right. Nah, she had to run out. Took Fred and Roald and made me stay to watch the shop. Something about needing to grab important supplies or whatever.¡± Her hand gestured my way. ¡°Kid said she was gonna text you an update.¡±


    ¡°Text me an¨C¡± As I echoed those words, my hand was taking the phone from my pocket, and I blanched a little behind the helmet. I had a message from Wren, alright. Sure enough, it was all about how she had to go grab a few super-important things and that she would explain everything about what was going on once they got back. ¡°Oh, well okay then. I guess we¡¯ll wait here for them.¡±


    As I finished saying that, Murphy had already shrugged and moved back to a corner of the main shop floor where she had apparently been sweeping and mopping. From the look of it, she was actually doing a pretty good job. Okay, a very good job. Better than I could have, considering I¡¯d basically almost never done anything like that except for the times when I was a kid trying to help the maids. Actually, I remembered that being kind of fun. But even now, I knew the reason it felt ¡®fun¡¯ to me at the time was because I could stop any time I wanted to. I didn¡¯t depend on doing that to live or put food in my mouth. If I had to do it every day, as much as the people who worked in our house or at my school had to? Yeah, I definitely wouldn¡¯t enjoy it as much. It was a thought that made me shift a little uncomfortably. Yet Murphy seemed pretty fine with what she was doing. It made me wonder how much cleaning she ended up doing at home. Which also made me think about her brother. Part of me wanted to ask how that was going and if he¡¯d stopped being pissed at her about not running those drugs over to his friend. But I was pretty sure that would be pushing a bit even if we were alone, let alone with Peyton here.


    So, I decided that conversation could wait. Meanwhile, Peyton herself had started to walk around the shop floor, picking up and examining various things from the shelves. ¡°Wow,¡± she murmured quietly while turning an old miner¡¯s helmet over in her hands, ¡°they¡¯re actually selling all this random junk?


    Wincing, I stepped over that way. ¡°Don¡¯t let the kid hear you calling it junk. This was her dad¡¯s store, she¡¯s pretty protective of it. And right now I think a lot of it is just a way of having basically any random thing she needs at any point when she starts building stuff.¡±


    A noise of regret escaped the other girl, as she turned to me while shaking her head. ¡°I¨Csorry. I didn¡¯t mean to just¨Cugh. I didn¡¯t mean it like that. I wasn¡¯t trying to like¨Cinsult her family¡¯s shop or anything. I was just¡­ yeah, sometimes I don¡¯t think before I speak.¡± She muttered the last words before giving a heavy sigh.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured her before reaching out to squeeze the girl¡¯s arm. ¡°Seriously, don¡¯t worry about it. All this stuff is a lot to get used to. Believe me, I know.¡± And boy was that a severe understatement. A lot to get used to? Wait until she learned the real truth about the city¨Cno, stop it. I couldn¡¯t tell her the full truth about the city. Except she was already helping, and she was going to push that help as far as helping me find the girl who might be able to take Pencil down. Even if the idea was to stay completely away from that piece of shit and never directly involve ourselves with him, there was no definite one hundred percent certainty that we wouldn¡¯t see him. And she was still here, still willingly putting herself in danger. Didn¡¯t I owe her the¨Cfuck. Would this question ever end up getting me anywhere except for more uncertain and confused?


    ¡°Dude.¡± Peyton, who I belatedly realized had been staring at me for the past few seconds while I went through all that in my head yet again, spoke up hesitantly. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Murphy called from where she was still working. ¡°He just does that sometimes. I think he likes brooding or something. That or he¡¯s listening to podcasts in that helmet and gets distracted.¡±


    Flushing a bit behind the aforementioned helmet, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s not brooding or podcasts. I just¨Cnever mind. I was just thinking.¡±


    ¡°Hey, speaking of just thinking,¡± Murphy called out again, ¡°what do you call yourself, anyway? I mean, we can¡¯t just stick with ¡®that marble girl¡¯ all the time, right?¡±


    It was Peyton¡¯s turn to blush, slightly visible through the space that left part of her face around her eyes uncovered. ¡°Uhh, we sort of went over some ideas, but I¡¯m not sure. It¡¯s really hard to come up with a good one that doesn¡¯t sound stupid or overly dramatic or¡­ whatever.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I know all about that too,¡± I muttered mostly to myself before gesturing. ¡°Well, while we¡¯re waiting, why don¡¯t we go over the list? You wanna help, Murphy?¡±


    She, in turn, looked at the mop in her hand for a moment before setting it aside to step over where we were. Shoving her hands in her back pockets, the brown-skinned girl rocked back on her heels before asking, ¡°What sorta options are you working with?¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    So, Peyton and I tugged a couple random stools over and slid one over to Murphy before starting to go over all the potential names. The three of us went back and forth for awhile about the ones that sounded good, why they were good, the ones that probably wouldn¡¯t work, and so on.


    We went over all that for a good ten minutes. Finally, Peyton said she had some favorites, especially after talking to the two of us, but she wanted to think about it some more before deciding, and maybe ask the others what they thought. Which was pretty good timing, considering it was only a couple minutes after that before Wren showed up with Fred and Roald.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Peyton murmured very quietly in my direction as the trio arrived with armfulls of paper grocery bags, ¡°you weren¡¯t kidding about her being young. But she¡¯s really that good?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s really that good,¡± I confirmed before stepping that way to take a bag from Wren. It was heavier than it looked, geez. The bag was completely filled with what looked like half of an average-sized store¡¯s electronics department. Peyton was already doing the same for Fred. ¡°Hey guys, look who I brought back. It¡¯s¡­ uhh, she doesn¡¯t actually have a name yet. So TBD. But TBD, this is Wren or Trevithick, her uncle Fred, and Roald.¡±


    That was followed by both Fred and Roald shaking the girl¡¯s hand, the latter commenting that her armor looked different this time. Peyton then explained how that worked with her marbles. Both of them seemed a little awkward and uncertain in a way that almost seemed kind of cute. Especially when Murphy inserted herself and all three of them went back and forth about different types of armor and weapons she might be able to make with the various marbles.


    For her part, Wren waited until all the bags were put down and was quietly respectful of letting the other three talk for about ten more seconds before flinging herself that way with an added boost from her flight pack wings (the pack was on under her jacket and it projected the wings through a couple almost-invisible slits in the back) to cross the distance before landing directly in front of her. ¡°Hi! I¡¯m Wren, like he said! You are so cool, I watched the videos of you fighting those bad guys like eighteen times! When you hit Juice with the battering ram and then threw him with the gloves, that was so awesome! You were like, ¡®don¡¯t you touch him!¡¯ then wham! Did you really just get your powers? You totally kicked his butt before he even knew what was happening!¡±


    Peyton, looking more than a little taken aback by the enthusiasm, managed a little giggle. ¡°Uhh, thanks. Just beginner¡¯s luck, really. I think he was more focused on being mad at Paintball, so he wasn¡¯t paying any attention to me.¡±


    ¡°He was definitely distracted,¡± I agreed, ¡°but that doesn¡¯t take away from the fact that most people wouldn¡¯t have been able to take advantage of that distraction the way you did. Seriously, she¡¯s right, you were awesome back there. I would¡¯ve been screwed without your help.¡± Blanching a little, I added, ¡°Still don¡¯t know why they keep calling you my ¡®sidekick¡¯ though. I mean, I haven¡¯t even been doing this for two whole months yet.¡±


    Wow, saying that part out loud made me think about just how much had happened in the past six-ish weeks. The vials, finding out about my family, being taken by Pencil, the whole situation with him and the rest of the Scions at the hospital, the Paige thing¡­ Just how damn busy was I?


    While I was focused on that, Peyton had started to explain her whole naming situation and the various ideas she was working off of. Roald, Wren, and Fred gave their own opinions and went back and forth for awhile, until Peyton finally held up both hands. ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯ve got it, I think. The name I¡¯m gonna go with is¡­¡± She took a breath, letting it out before finishing. ¡°Alloy.¡± Even after she said it, the girl looked uncertain. ¡°I mean, is that good? I think¨C never mind. Sorry. I¡¯m terrible at making decisions! I even like boys and girls cuz throwing out half my options is bullshit!¡± With that cry, she waved both hands vaguely.


    It was Fred who spoke up. ¡°Hey, why don¡¯t you uhh, close your eyes for a second.¡±


    Looking a little confused and uncertain, the girl did so with a quiet, ¡°Um, okay.¡±


    Clearing his throat, Fred spoke up loudly. ¡°Alloy, Paintball needs your help, get out there!¡± After a pause, he asked, ¡°So, did that sound right? I mean, the name, did it sound like something you¡¯d like to be called?¡±


    Peyton opened her eyes. I had the feeling she was smiling behind the mask. ¡°Uh huh. That¡¯s it. That¡¯s the right name. Thanks, uhh, Mr. Donovan.¡±


    ¡°Fred¡¯s fine,¡± the man insisted, looking self-conscious as he rubbed his head. ¡°I just know sometimes it helps to hear the name from someone else. It¡¯s how¡­¡± He paused briefly before continuing in a softer, more subdued tone. ¡°It¡¯s how I helped Wren¡¯s folks choose her name.¡±


    Well, that was sobering. I still wasn¡¯t sure about the whole story there, other than the fact that her mother and father had died in the hospital after racking up quite the medical bill. Which was the whole thing that led to Fred selling that device to Ashton so he could steal the vials in the first place. Not that Fred had known what his plan was at the time.


    Of course, thinking about that reminded me of why we had come here today to begin with. ¡°Um, Wren? You said you had something really important to talk about. What¡¯s wrong? And, uhh, does it have anything to do with the fact that you just went on a huge shopping spree? All this stuff looks pretty intense.¡± I said that while gingerly reaching into one of the bags and picking up what appeared to be a circuit board with seven different colored wires leading out of it and a large computer power supply attached to one side.


    Immediately, Wren looked guilty about her distraction. ¡°Oh, uhh, yeah. I should probably talk to you upstairs about it.¡± She winced, shifting back and forth on her feet, clearly anxious.


    I had the feeling Peyton really wanted to ask what was going on. Instead, she gestured to the others. ¡°Hey, you wanna see how I raced Paintball to get over here? I could show you outside, if y¨Chold on!¡± Tugging her buzzing phone out, she blurted, ¡°Everybody be quiet, or sound like shoppers!¡± Then she was answering it, talking to her mother, who was checking in again. After a moment, she muted her phone, grabbed Murphy by the arm, and hissed at her to pretend to be someone named Dana coming up to say they had to check out some sale somewhere.


    Looking to Wren while that was going on, I whispered, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Wha¨Coh.¡± Her head bobbed quickly. ¡°Uh huh. It¡¯s not about me. It¡¯s¨Cit¡¯s about Paige.¡±


    Of course it was. I¡¯d figured it had to be as soon as whatever the problem was didn¡¯t turn out to have anything to do with bad guys at the shop, her or Fred¡¯s health, and involved her going out to buy a bunch of things on an emergency shopping trip. Much as I might¡¯ve loved to hope this whole thing was just a kid overreacting to some brand new idea she had about an invention that she wanted to show off, I knew Wren better than that. And I knew my luck better than that.


    So, while Peyton (or Alloy now) took the others out back to show off the whole hoverboard thing, I went with Wren upstairs. The two of us took the elevator, the younger girl being oddly quiet and subdued all the way. Finally, once the door opened and we stepped out into the hall, she turned to face me. ¡°Okay, see, I felt really bad that I couldn¡¯t help wake up your friend. So I thought maybe if I could at least find a way to communicate with her, it might help. You know, connect with her umm, mind or whatever?¡± She was fidgeting nervously or self-consciously.


    ¡°Did¡­ did you manage to communicate with her?¡± No, that didn¡¯t make sense. Why would her succeeding at something like that make Wren so¡­ like this? It certainly wouldn¡¯t be an emergency.


    Sure enough, the blonde girl shook her head quickly. ¡°No¨CI mean yes, I mean sort of. Hang on¨Cc¡¯mere.¡± Pivoting, she grabbed my hand and led me into the lab where Paige was lying comfortably (I hoped) on a padded table. There was a wheeled cart nearby with some electronic equipment stacked up on it. Wren picked up what looked like the drum and tubing part of a stethoscope that led into what I swore was part of an ancient Atari video game system with an original Gameboy attached to it via a series of wires. Yeah, it was a whole confusing thing.


    ¡°This,¡± Wren told me while holding up the end of the stethoscope, ¡°sends electronic messages and receives them at close range. It¨Cokay it gets complicated. The short version is that you¡¯re supposed to be able to put it on Paige close to where her CPU thing is, then it¡¯ll send a message to her. Then she can send a message back. Or, you know, whatever tiny part of her is still conscious. They have to be simple messages, and slow. Like one or two words every fifteen minutes. It¡¯s like talking to her in her dreams.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the big emergency isn¡¯t that it didn¡¯t work?¡± I asked hesitantly, staring at the thing in her hand, then back to Paige.


    ¡°No,¡± she confirmed quietly. ¡°It worked. I sent a message asking, ¡®Can you hear?¡¯ and she sent back, umm, well it took awhile to get all of it, but¡­¡±


    Rather than finish, she simply picked up the Gameboy and turned it so I could see the screen. Written across it were eleven words in succession, one under the next, all in capital letters.


    HELP


    DAD


    VIRUS


    SECOND


    ME


    COPY


    TRYING


    ERASE


    REPLACE


    KILL


    HELP


    PLEASE


    Reading all that through, I took a second to process it before my eyes widened. ¡°Her dad made a virus that¡¯s like a copy and it¡¯s trying to replace her. I¨Cwe don¡¯t have any more time to try to come up with the perfect plan or find the perfect people to help. We don¡¯t have time for any of that.


    ¡°We have to start saving Paige right now.¡±

 Building Connections 16-12

    I was already spinning on my heel to walk to the nearby door before stopping myself as I realized that I didn¡¯t have any idea where I was going or what to do. Holding my arms tightly against my chest, I spun back that way. ¡°Except I don¡¯t know how to do that. How are we supposed to save Paige right now? How are we supposed to do anything right now? We don¡¯t even have anyone lined up to fix the computer orb thing yet! We don¡¯t¨Cwait.¡± Realization came to me as I blink at the younger girl. ¡°You went out to get a bunch of stuff. What were you¨C¡±


    Wren quickly nodded. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Paintball! I mean it¡¯s not okay. It¡¯s really scary. But I didn¡¯t just call you with problems. I¡¯ve got solutions too! I mean sorta maybe solutions, I mean help for¨C¡±  Cutting herself off, she took a deep breath and let it out before starting once more. ¡°We still gotta find someone to fix the little orb-computer thingie, but I think we can help the good Paige stop the bad Paige. You know, send her reinforcements so she doesn¡¯t get taken over or erased or anything. It¡¯s not perfect, but it¡¯ll, you know, buy her some time? If it works. I think it¡¯ll work. I have to adjust some stuff, but it should work. I mean, if the first part works like it¡¯s supposed to, like he said it should, then I can adjust the second part and make it¡­ work?¡± Clearly realizing she was babbling and repeating herself, Wren trailed off and shrugged helplessly, adding a very quiet, ¡°I think, maybe.¡±


    Forcing myself to calm down from the rush of panic, I took a step that way. ¡°You mean you have a plan?¡± I tried to keep my voice as steady as possible. Inwardly, I was screaming at myself. Of course Paige¡¯s father would have some kind of fail-safe to overwrite her or whatever. That just made sense, especially since I knew he¡¯d managed to hit her with that virus in the first place. Stupid, stupid. Why did I take so long trying to find someone who could fix her? Telling myself it had only been a few days didn¡¯t help. The guilt kept welling up in me no matter what I thought.


    ¡°What do you mean you have to adjust something? Who is this ¡®he¡¯ you¡¯re talking about? Did you really already find someone that could help? Are you sure it¡¯s someone we can trust with this? Who is this guy, where did he come from, what does he do? How did you find him so fast?¡±


    Wren, for her part, held up both hands for me to slow down too. Waiting for quiet, the kid finally started to explain. ¡°Okay, so, this guy isn¡¯t actually someone I talked to about this. He doesn¡¯t even live anywhere near here. He¡¯s in France. He¡¯s a Tech-Touched in France. Anyway, we started talking about our toys¨Cerr, our inventions, and he told me about this machine he made.  They¡¯re going to start selling it over there soon. He¡¯s gonna make a lot of money! It¨C¡± Clearly catching herself from going too far off-subject, Wren quickly reeled it in. ¡°Sorry, I mean the point is, when he told me about it, I thought it could help. But only if I make a second part that moves the first part over to where we need it cuz his invention is just a video game thing and that¡¯s really cool and all, but it doesn¡¯t help with Paige. But if we can move it over to where she is, then¨C¡±


    It was my turn to hold up both hands. ¡°Hold on, hold on. Okay, one thing at a time. What did he make that¡¯s supposed to help with Paige? You said something about it being a video game?¡±


    Wren¡¯s head bobbed up and down quickly. ¡°Uh huh! Paintball, he made this really cool virtual reality thing. You put it on and it like, projects your consciousness into the game. I mean, not really. You¡¯re really sitting right there with the machine wired up to you. But your brain thinks you¡¯re in the game. You can see things and interact with things and move them around and it¡¯s all super real to you and to the machine. You can change things in the machine, in the game.¡±


    She stopped, staring excitedly at me while I processed that. Rocking back on my heels, I managed, ¡°You¡¯re saying he made a virtual reality game that plugs you into the machine.¡± Thinking about that, I gasped. ¡°And you want to use that to plug me into Paige¡¯s computer core? That¡¯s what you¡¯re trying to adjust. You don¡¯t want to put me into some random virtual reality game, you want to put me into Paige¡¯s computer so I can help her deal with this duplicate.¡±


    Again, Wren¡¯s head bobbed quickly. ¡°Yes! I talked to my friend in France and he said he could help. I mean, I didn¡¯t tell him the whole story, just that it was really, super, incredibly important, life and death important. He trusts me, cuz we¡¯re friends and I promised I wouldn¡¯t make money off his thing. He said he¡¯d send the list of stuff I need and the blueprints to make a prototype version of his thing. It won¡¯t be as good or as stable or anything, but it¡¯ll work for this, we think. I just have to fix it so that instead of going into a game, it moves you over into Paige¡¯s computer.¡±


    Okay, this was all a lot to take in on short notice. Especially considering I hadn¡¯t even known that she had a friend in France. But I supposed that made sense. Of course Tech-Touched talked to each other and compared notes. The internet made that super-easy to do.


    Still, it was a lot to deal with. Seriously, virtual reality stuff? She wanted to plug my brain or whatever into Paige¡¯s computer so I could go in there and help her deal with this crazy duplicate virus before it took over. What the hell kind of psychotic Tron-crazy shit was this? Seriously? I¡¯d done some of that VR stuff before, of course. It came with the territory of having rich parents who liked to spoil you by throwing all the newest special toys your way. I¡¯d been in full-scale simulations, some better than others. But it was still weird to think of something like this being used this way. Full-scale virtual reality outside of just putting a helmet on your head and faking it wasn¡¯t exactly common. Mostly it was limited to a few very specific demonstrations. And I had no idea if this French guy¡¯s version was any good, especially if it was basically being cobbled together to work with however Paige¡¯s system worked. Two systems I didn¡¯t know at all being taped onto one another by one little kid, who wasn¡¯t even the person who originally made either of them. This was a whole new level of crazy desperation, wasn¡¯t it?


    But I had to push all those confused thoughts aside and focus on the main situation, the main problem. Paige. Whatever happened next, we had to help Paige. So, I simply reached out and put my hands on Wren¡¯s shoulders, squeezing a bit. ¡°Do you really think this can work?¡± I asked quietly, yet intently. There were so many questions I had beyond that. Especially when it came to who this guy in France was, whose name I didn¡¯t even know. But we didn¡¯t have the months (at least) that it would take for me to decide that I trusted him myself. I was going to have to go solely off what Wren thought. I trusted her with this. I had to.


    Clearly realizing just how important my question was, Wren met my gaze with a look of maturity that far outweighed her years. Her voice was quiet, yet firm. ¡°Yes, Paintball. It can work. It won¡¯t be super-stable, and you¡¯ll have to be really quick about it. And it would be better if you had someone with you. Someone else who could fight with you. I don¡¯t want to send you in there by yourself. Maybe you could get Pack, or that new girl you just brought back today? Or both! Both would be better, a lot better.¡±


    ¡°Alloy?¡± I blinked at the suggestion, glancing towards the elevator down to where we had left her and the others. ¡°I don¡¯t know if we should involve anyone else in something like this. It¡¯s¨C¡±


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    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous!¡± Wren interrupted, blurting the words loudly as she stared at me. ¡°It¡¯s super-dangerous! I mean yeah, if you get hurt or whatever in there, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll actually hurt you out here. It¡¯s not like that old Matrix movie or whatever. It doesn¡¯t work like that, cuz that¡¯s silly. It would be a really bad game if it did. But if you get knocked out, you won¡¯t be able to go back in very fast. It¡¯ll take awhile to get back to where you were, you know? And in that time, maybe Paige will lose. Maybe she¡¯ll be taken over and erased! That could happen! She sounded really scared in that message, Paintball. So this evil virus duplicate thing is probably really strong. So if you go in by yourself and you lose, then you wouldn¡¯t have actually helped her. I think¡­ I think you need to trust someone else to go in with you. More than one, if you can. You know, because it¡¯s dumb to take risks like that when it comes to actually helping someone you care about, right?¡±


    Fuck. Yeah, she had a point. As much as I hated the idea of involving other people in this, I was pretty sure I didn¡¯t have much of a choice if I really wanted to save Paige. If I went in there by myself, I¡¯d probably just end up getting my butt kicked. I needed to take others for back-up, and there really wasn¡¯t anyone I could trust with it beyond those two she had already suggested. Pack and Peyton. If they¡¯d even go at all. I couldn¡¯t be sure they¡¯d agree to the plan, after all.


    ¡°Actually, wait,¡± I suddenly blurted as a thought occurred. ¡°That reminds me. We can¡¯t even use our powers in that place, can we? Which would make all of us pretty helpless if we¡¯re supposed to be saving Paige. I mean, it¡¯s like a virtual reality thing¨Cor wait, do we get like¡­ all the powers because it¡¯s virtual reality? You can just cheat code everything if it comes down to it, right? How does that work, exactly?¡±


    Wren, however, shook her head. ¡°Not exactly,¡± the kid hesitantly answered before quickly pushing on. ¡°I mean, we¡¯re not exactly putting you in a place we made up, you know? You¡¯ve gotta go inside the place her computer made, in her like¡­ computer mind or whatever.¡± She was poking the floor with her foot uncomfortably, clearly upset about not having better news. ¡°I can build my friend¡¯s virtual reality thing, but it¡¯s like¡­ sorta duct taped to Paige¡¯s thing to make it work and I can¡¯t change too much and I definitely can¡¯t mess with what¡¯s going on inside Paige¡¯s mind cuz that¡¯s not really what my thing is and it¡¯s not what this is and I¡¯m really sorry, but¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s alright,¡± I quickly interrupted, holding up both hands. ¡°Thanks, Wren, I know you¡¯re doing your b¨Chell, you¡¯re doing better than your best. You went totally above and beyond, dude. You got help from some guy in France to figure this out and to give us a chance to save Paige. That¡¯s amazing, you¡¯re seriously¨Cyou¡¯re great. I didn¡¯t mean to make it seem like you should be doing more. I was just¨Cyeah. Sorry, dude. Whatever we can do for her, anything at all, really.¡±


    After managing to get all that out, I waited for a second before adding, ¡°Okay, so we can¡¯t have cheat codes to go in there, because you can¡¯t control what happens inside Paige¡¯s computer. You¡¯re just like¨Clike her thing is the game server and all you can do is hack us a couple player accounts?¡± I had no idea how accurate that was, but it seemed like the best comparison.


    Thankfully, Wren seemed to get it, already nodding. ¡°Uh huh, uh huh! Like that. The server will only accept you if you go in as yourself. Like, I can change your clothes or whatever, but it accepts the umm¡­ the you in your head. The way you umm¡­ see yourself, pretty much? Which, um, I think should mean you can use your powers in there, cuz they¡¯re a part of you.¡±


    ¡°Well hey, that¡¯s something, at least.¡± Giving the girl a thumbs up, I looked past her to where Paige was. ¡°Okay, so how long do we have before you can put all this stuff you¡¯ve got together? Cuz I¡¯m pretty sure we don¡¯t have umm¡­ okay, I¡¯m pretty sure Paige doesn¡¯t have a lot of time.¡±


    Following my gaze, the kid immediately made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a half-yelp, half-gasp. ¡°Oh! Yeah, I can¨CI mean it¡¯s still gonna take time to put all this together, and I¡¯ve gotta do a lot of it myself cuz only I can understand the instructions. I mean, I don¡¯t¨Cit¡¯s not like you¡¯re stupid or anything, it¡¯s just got a lot of really specific technical stuff and if we mess up putting it together it could break and if it breaks we have to spend a lot more time fixing it and finding the hard-to-get parts and if that happens we might not have time to save this Paige girl so I really don¡¯t wanna have to do it all over again, not cuz you¡¯re dumb or anything, just cuz¨C¡±


    ¡°Got it, I get it.¡± Once more, I held up my hands for her to stop. ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s okay. Do it right. If there are ways I can help, let me know. But, how long do you think it¡¯ll take you to put it together the right way? You know, making sure it¡¯ll work the way it¡¯s supposed to and all.¡±


    Wren looked hesitant for a moment, clearly nervous about the job she had taken on. But, in the end, she straightened a bit before firmly replying, ¡°Tomorrow evening. I¨CI can have it done by tomorrow evening, I promise. I¨CI¡¯m sorry it can¡¯t be done before then. I wanted t¨CI know it¡¯s dangerous. I know she¡¯s in trouble, but if I try to go any faster, I might mess up, and if I mess up-¡±


    ¡°If you mess up, we don¡¯t get another shot at this,¡± I finished for her gently. ¡°At least not in time to actually save Paige before that virus takes over. I get it, really. It¡¯s okay, Wren. Do it right the first time. Take however long you need. I mean, try to hurry and all, but don¡¯t rush too much, okay?¡±


    She agreed, and I asked if there was anything I could do to help without getting in the way. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t. She said she really just had to focus on it and asked, as politely as she could, for me to go away and come back tomorrow. And for me to bring Peyton back so she could talk to ¡®the cool marble girl¡¯ again when she wasn¡¯t so distracted.


    So, I asked one last thing. ¡°Did you send another message to Paige? You know, to let her know that we got her message and we¡¯re working on it?¡±


    Offering me a very faint smile, Wren nodded. ¡°Uh huh, I sent a message so she¡¯d know she wasn¡¯t talking to nobody. But¡­ I think it¡¯d make her feel better if you sent a message too. Like I said, it¡¯ll take a long time for her to get it, but you can type the message into the thing there and tell her you¡¯re working on it. Like I said, it¡¯ll only send one or two words every fifteen minutes. But you can type whatever you want and just let it go. I won¡¯t¡­ uhh, disturb it, I promise.¡±


    Oh, right. Slowly, I stepped over to where the Gameboy/Atari thing was and picked up the little handheld part. Looking at the screen, I could see where you moved the cursor around to select letters for the input. Okay then, here went nothing.


    And for a moment, ¡®nothing¡¯ was exactly what went. Seriously, what the hell was I supposed to say to let Paige know that I had her message and that I was working on it? What would actually make her feel better or whatever?


    In the end, after thinking about it for a minute, I carefully typed a short message into the device.


    PAINTBALLC


    WE¡¯VE


    GOT


    PLAN


    STAY


    STRONG


    COMING


    PROMISE


    Yeah, it was a little silly or whatever. I really didn¡¯t know what else to say in a brief message. As it was, it would take a few hours for Paige to get that entire thing. I just had to say my name first so she¡¯d know who was talking, and add a C at the end which she would hopefully understand to mean ¡®Cassidy¡¯ so she would be certain it was me. As for the rest¡­ yeah. It was the best I could do without saying too much. The last thing I wanted was for a message I sent to Paige to end up exposing who I really was to anyone else who read it. I just¡­ hoped it was enough to help her keep going long enough for us to get in there.


    And speaking of us getting in there, I took a breath and turned back to the younger girl. ¡°I guess I should ask the others if they¡¯re free to help go into virtual reality land tomorrow.¡± Oh boy, this was going to be a fun couple conversations.


    ¡°Good luck!¡± Wren was smiling distractedly, her mind clearly focused on the work she still had to do. ¡°I¡¯ll do my part, I promise.¡± With that, she saluted, then turned her back to me, put her phone up on the table, and called that French friend of hers for help. The last thing I heard while heading back downstairs was the sound of a teenage male talking in heavily accented English, happily greeting Wren by name and asking if she had everything.


    Right, time to leave the tech people to do their thing, while I did mine. Which¡­ huh, was asking Peyton to help me save Paige in virtual reality more or less crazy than asking her to help me scour the city to find a witness who could potentially take down Pencil?


    She sure picked one hell of a time to decide to jump on Team Paintball.

 Building Connections 16-13

    Of course, talking to Peyton about Paige meant that I was going to have to expose a bit about the other girl. But what else was I supposed to do? I couldn¡¯t save her by myself. Well, I could try, but I was pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t go very well. If there was someone in there that was giving Paige a hard time, if that virus duplicate was enough to make Paige desperately call for help, then I couldn¡¯t deal with her by myself. I just couldn¡¯t. And I was pretty sure even one other person helping wouldn¡¯t be enough. Especially considering Wren wouldn¡¯t have any control over what happened once I was in there. I¡¯d seen plenty of movies and games about going into computers, and the person in control tended to be able to, like, manipulate the environment. That would complicate things, to say the least. Especially if I was in there by myself.


    Yeah, I had no choice but to involve Peyton in this situation (if she was willing to be involved), because I was going to need all the help I could get to save Paige from this virus thing. It wasn¡¯t the most¡­ optimum situation. But then, when had I ever been in an optimum situation since that first night? The night when my entire life had changed, when I¡¯d found out the truth about my family. Or started to. Things had been complicated ever since then, and they only seemed to be getting more so as time went on.


    At the very least, it was possible that I could stop Peyton from actually finding out who Paige really was beyond her first name and what she looked like. Seriously, it wasn¡¯t like she had any reason to recognize the girl on-sight or whatever. Paige wasn¡¯t famous, and her face wasn¡¯t all over the news. She hadn¡¯t been reported missing. Most people had no idea who she was, thanks to the fact that her family (her adopted family anyway) didn¡¯t exactly go showing her off for the press or whatever. Sure, she was pretty and all that, but lots of people were pretty. I was fairly sure that even her name wouldn¡¯t be recognizable. Well, maybe her last name if it happened to come up for some reason. But just a blonde girl named Paige? Yeah, maybe I was just trying really hard to justify it to myself, but I was pretty sure Peyton wouldn¡¯t have any clue who the other girl was, even if she heard her called Paige and saw her face. After all, she definitely didn¡¯t go to our school. That was one benefit to knowing who Peyton was. I already knew for a fact what school she went to. Paige would be just some blonde girl she knew nothing about, right?


    Not to mention, all of that, again, depended upon Peyton actually agreeing to go along and help with this ridiculous, insane thing. As I reached the main store and saw the girl in question over helping Murphy and Roald pick some things up and restock them, I had a sudden wave of doubt. Should I even bring it up? God, what was the right answer?  Even if she wanted to contribute to this, what if something happened to her in there? Okay well, supposedly nothing could happen to her in the virtual reality system. It was basically the safest mission we could go on, aside from what would happen if we failed and the evil virus duplicate took over and started controlling Paige. And the best way to stop that would be to have as much help as possible, right? Yeah, just great. This was all just so great. Wonderful situation I¡¯d found myself in, yet again.


    Taking a deep breath just as the others noticed me and looked over, I walked that way. ¡°Hey, Alloy, could I talk to you for a minute outside? It¡¯s kind of important. Okay, it¡¯s really important.¡± I was trying to stress that importance with my voice without actually sounding as panicked as I felt about the whole thing.


    After a brief pause where she glanced at the other two, Peyton shrugged and nodded. ¡°Uh, sure, yeah. No problem. I¡¯ll be back, you guys. But remember, don¡¯t you dare ask the kid what that machine in the corner is without me. I¡¯ve still got five bucks that says it makes waffles and I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯ll let you cheat me out of it.¡±


    That said, the two of us headed out through the back door together and into the alley behind the shop. Once we were there, Peyton just watched me curiously while I hemmed and hawed for a few long seconds, trying to decide exactly how to bring this whole thing up and explain it. Because boy was this ever hard to jump into. Seriously, how was I supposed to easily bring her up to speed and then ask her to get involved?


    Finally, I settled on giving her the basic story, that there was a girl who was part android thanks to her evil Tech-Touched father who wasn¡¯t in the city anymore, but her identity had to remain mostly secret for her own safety. I explained that we had to use virtual reality to go into her mind, essentially, to stop an evil duplicate virus from that same evil father from taking over and controlling her into doing lots of horrible things. And yes, the longer I went on, the more crazy it sounded even to me. And I had been living it. I knew it was true, but I still felt like a complete gibbering psycho the more the words about it came out of my mouth. How did I go on day by day living with this kind of insanity?


    Unsurprisingly, by the time I finished, Peyton was staring at me like I had just told her the most ridiculous, absurd story she¡¯d ever heard. Funny, that. She made a noise now and then as though to say something, but no words came out the first several times she tried to speak. Finally, with one finger raised (the index, not the middle as some might have after that kind of story), she asked, ¡°Are you fucking with me right now?¡±


    Snorting at that despite myself, I shook my head as firmly as possible. ¡°No, believe me, a big part of me wishes I was. I wish this whole situation was a joke, that my life wasn¡¯t actually this complicated and ridiculous. And you really don¡¯t even know a quarter of it.¡± Muttering that part under my breath, I shook it off and pushed on quickly. ¡°But the point is, I¡¯m telling you the truth about what¡¯s going on here. You seriously don¡¯t need to get involved in this if you don¡¯t want to. Trust me, I will absolutely understand if you decide to turn around and run away as fast and as far as you can. Err, metaphorically speaking. Don¡¯t run away from home or whatever. The point is, this is just something I have to do. And it would be pretty nice to have as much help as possible, especially considering I have no idea how much control this virus thing is going to have over the¡­ you know, environment or whatever in the virtual reality system. Honestly, I don¡¯t know anything about how it¡¯s gonna go in there. Maybe you¡¯d be safer leaving well enough alone. Maybe you¡¯ll regret it if you go. Maybe we both will. But I¡¯m going in there, and if¨Cif you¡¯d help me do it, I¡¯d be really grateful.¡± Yeah, that whole thing sounded and felt incredibly awkward both in my head and out loud. But what else was I supposed to say? This was the simple and easy part of how things were. If I told her the full story about my family, the Ministry, and all of that, I was pretty sure she really would run screaming in the other direction as fast as she could go and I¡¯d never see her again. Sometimes, I really wished I could do that. Just run away from the whole thing.


    So, I just got all of that out there, breathed a couple times, and looked to the girl with a hesitant, ¡°So, ready to change your mind about that whole ¡®teaming up¡¯ idea now that you know what kind of insanity comes with it? Believe me, I will absolutely understand if you¡¯re ready to bounce.¡±


    For a few seconds, Peyton was completely silent. She seemed to be weighing the whole thing. Which, I honestly couldn¡¯t blame her for either. I would have needed a hell of a lot more than a few seconds if I was going to process being told what she had just been told without any real warning. It was a lot to take in. Eventually, however, she straightened and looked at me. ¡°If this is the kind of stuff you¡¯re involved in, then it¡¯s the kind of stuff I¡¯m involved in. I told you, I wanna team up. I know you¡¯re still keeping a lot of important things away from me. I¡¯m not dumb. But I don¡¯t blame you for keeping things to yourself. You don¡¯t even know me. Not really. And if this is how I can start to earn your trust, I¡¯ll do it. Yeah, it sounds crazy, but we¡¯re teenagers with superpowers, of course it all sounds crazy. For all I know, this is a completely normal day for Touched people. Maybe they go into virtual reality machines to help android girls all the time. I just¨CI wanna help, Paintball. Seriously, I want to be involved. Whatever it takes for me to prove you can trust me.¡±


    Yeah, even after she said that, a part of me wanted to tell her to turn around and get the hell out of here. But I pushed the impulse down and just told the girl to be back here tomorrow evening. And that we would focus on looking for that Amanda Sanvers girl once we dealt with this situation. Yeah, repaying Deicide was important, and so was doing whatever we could to get rid of Pencil before he killed more people. But we had to prioritize, and Paige came first right now. Especially after everything she had done to avoid killing me. I owed her.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Finally, Peyton looked to me before asking, ¡°So, it¡¯s just you and me going in there tomorrow? Or are you taking your minions in too? That Murphy girl seems like she¡¯d be a good scrapper.¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°We¡¯re not taking them in. But there is someone else. There¡¯s¡­ okay, so there¡¯s this girl I¡¯ve sort of been¡­ right, this is gonna sound weird, again.¡± With that, I explained that Pack would be coming over to help, assuming she agreed. Which required a lot of explanation about how I was almost, kind-of, sort-of friends with someone from La Casa and all that. Even after I did explain it, I was pretty sure that Peyton was still confused about the whole thing. Which, who could blame her? The entire situation was really strange. But, she basically accepted it, shaking her head before muttering something about how I seemed to have a lot of contacts on both sides of the fence.


    ¡°Actually,¡± the girl quickly put in, ¡°that reminds me, what¡¯s that whole thing about how it¡¯s not ¡®time yet¡¯ for you to talk to Glitch? Or whatever you said. Something like that. You thought Cavalcade was there to get you to talk to Glitch instead of Deicide. How many bad guys do you owe favors to? And does that have anything to do with why you won¡¯t join the Minority or any other team? Is this about trying to play both sides just to make good things happen? Cuz that seems pretty complicated. Oh, wait, is this about me? Do you owe Glitch a favor because of me and that whole thing?¡±


    Snorting at that, I replied, ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s definitely complicated. And no, it¡¯s not really about you. It¡¯s about¡­¡± Glancing over my shoulder, I gestured to the store behind us, explaining the whole thing about Glitch wanting to be paid a fee to allow Wren to operate in the city without being part of her gang.


    Immediately, Peyton asked, ¡°What about Switchshift? You know, the Tech-Touched who works for Ten Towers. Do you really think he¡¯s paying some kind of fee to a bunch of villains just to work in the city, when he¡¯s actively working for people like Ten Towers? Hell, do you think they¡¯d let that happen? I mean, it wouldn¡¯t really be good for their business to let themselves be extorted, right? Not when their entire thing is, like, keeping businesses safe from bad guys.¡±


    Right, Switchshift did exist. People didn¡¯t really see a lot of him, since he didn¡¯t do much in the way of fieldwork. Which came from the fact that he was apparently paralyzed from the waist down. Or at least, he had to use a wheelchair. Still, he was a guy who made ¡®things that transformed, changed position, or switched places.¡¯ There were rumors that he helped make special tools that allowed the heroes of the city to quickly get from one area to another, though nobody was really sure how that worked. Or if it was even true, aside from the fact that the Star-Touched did tend to be able to get around faster than you might expect in this city.


    Anyway, the point was, he was part of Ten Towers. Who might indeed have a problem with paying extortion money to a group of villains just to allow their guy to operate without the constant harassment. For a moment, I considered that, weighing it back and forth my head.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I finally murmured. ¡°Or maybe they consider paying a small, secret fee to be better than having to fight all the time. Especially if there¡¯s some kind of provision about how much Glitch and her gang are allowed to do against them as long as they¡¯re paid up. I mean, we¡¯re talking about a bunch of corporations here. They care about the bottom line. Like, I can see them deciding that writing off a monthly or yearly fee or whatever is worth it if it makes a group like Braintrust play somewhat nice.¡± Getting all that out, I reconsidered, adding, ¡°On the other hand¨C¡±


    ¡°On the other hand,¡± Peyton put in for me, ¡°Braintrust attacks Ten Tower places all the time. Okay, I mean, not all the time. But they definitely do it. Would they really be okay with paying them off to leave one guy alone, while Braintrust just keeps hurting their customers? It¡¯s like you said, if they were going to make that deal, they¡¯d want to get more out of it. I mean, if that was even on the table, they probably go ahead and pay enough of a fee to get Braintrust to back off completely, right? It just seems weird if they¡¯ve got some financial arrangement like that with a group that¡¯s actively attacking their property and stealing from them.¡±


    Thinking about that for a moment, I gave a slow nod. ¡°Okay, so maybe they don¡¯t go after someone like Switchshift because he¡¯s got strong friends around him. Too strong for Glitch and her gang to intimidate. Or maybe it¡¯s something else. The point is, they are coming after Wren. They want her to start paying them for permission to operate here in the city, and she doesn¡¯t want to join Ten Towers, or any other big group in the city that could protect her from them.¡±


    Peyton was squinting at me, her voice dry. ¡°Yeah, gee, I wonder where she could possibly have gotten the idea that joining some big, powerful group in the city would be a bad idea.¡±


    Flushing a little, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. It¡¯s not¨C I mean¨C  okay, maybe I¡¯m not sure what it¡¯s like. I just¡­¡± This was getting entirely too close to a conversation we weren¡¯t ready to have yet. Instead, I waved that off. ¡°I know it sounds bad, but I think the best thing to do is to pay the fee, at least for now. We can work on getting rid of Braintrust later, or at least getting into a position where we¡¯re too strong and they have to back off. Right now, I really don¡¯t want to give them a reason to target Wren or this place, you know? We can¡¯t be here twenty-four seven. She¡¯s got defenses already, and she¡¯s working on more, but these are other Tech-Touched. It just¨Cit feels like a bad idea to push things when we don¡¯t have to. If they¡¯ll take money to leave Wren alone until we¡¯re in a better position and know she can protect herself, it just feels like that¡¯s the best move.¡±


    Peyton thought about that for a few seconds. I wondered how much she was considering what the Braintrust people had done for her before, when they ruined that asshole¡¯s life and exposed him for being a creepy pedophile piece of shit. Even if they had basically done it for their own purposes, just to punish him for stealing their equipment, it had to affect the way she saw them, right? Did she think they were nicer than they really were? I wasn¡¯t sure how that would go.


    In the end, she gave a short nod. ¡°Okay, but is this place even ready to start paying fees, or whatever? Cuz I don¡¯t know about you, but I don¡¯t exactly get enough of an allowance to help pay off a supervillain gang. And I don¡¯t think this is the best time to go get a job.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± I pointed out, ¡°it might be the very best time to get a job. Just not a real one. Or at least, not a normal one.¡± As the other girl stared at me, I quickly explained, ¡°If your mom thinks you have a part-time job, she won¡¯t be as curious about where you keep going all the time, right? It might keep her happy.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Peyton agreed, ¡°maybe, but where exactly am I supposed to find a place where I can pretend to have a job, which includes getting paid, but also be able to run off with you whenever¡­¡± She trailed off, following my pointed gaze back toward the building we had come out of. Staring that way, the girl raised a hand, then lowered it, quietly murmuring. ¡°Oh. Wait, you really think that¡¯d actually work? You think I can just pretend to have a job here?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. I mean, come on, it¡¯s just a small pawn shop as far as your mom would be concerned. Run by some guy and his little niece after her parents passed away. They¡¯d pay you to clean up, help around the store, whatever. It sounds like a good cover to me.¡±


    She was quiet then, considering the point for a few seconds before giving a slow nod. ¡°Okay, yeah, I guess that might work. But isn¡¯t that asking for this little pawn shop to pay out even more money when they haven¡¯t even officially reopened or whatever? I mean¨Cwait, they¡¯re doing more than just pawning stuff, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    Chuckling, I nodded. ¡°As soon as Wren gets a chance to catch up on everything, which includes this¡­ situation we¡¯re dealing with tomorrow, she¡¯s gonna start working on projects that she can sell. That¡¯ll bring in more money. Trust me, she¡¯s already got ideas, and I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re good. The pawn shop¡¯s just a cover. But it should be a pretty effective one. It¡¯s¨Cit¡¯s gonna be okay, Peyton. I know everything seems really complicated right now, and it is. I can¡¯t even¨Cfuck. I can¡¯t get into it right now. But if you can stick with it, I think playing at being an employee here could really give you the cover you need to¡­¡±


    ¡°To go out with you and help people?¡± she finished for me, offering a slight smile. ¡°Sorta like a sidekick?¡±


    Squinting at that, I looked away, running the thoughts through in my head before turning back with a short nod. ¡°Yeah,¡± I murmured, ¡°that¡¯s probably fair. You know, to try it out, see if you umm, if you actually want to stick with it once you see how crazy everything is.¡± That said, I extended a hand to her, waiting for her to take it. ¡°I know I haven¡¯t told you everything. That¡¯s gonna take awhile, if¨Cit¡¯s gonna take awhile. We¡¯ll work up to it. I¡¯m not exactly super-quick to trust people. I mean¨Cit¡¯s a long story. Maybe I¡¯ll even get into it someday. But for now, if you¡¯re up for it, I¡­ yeah, I¡¯d like to work together. You really up for all that, sidekick? What do you say?¡±


    ¡°What do I say?¡± Peyton echoed.


    ¡°I say, give me a month, and I¡¯ll get you to call me partner.¡±

 Interlude 16A - Spartans

    Despite a heavily clouded sky in the middle of a dark night, most of the streets of Detroit were brightly illuminated by various artificial lights. While not nearly as busy as a certain other American city that had full claim to the title of never sleeping, Detroit over the past twenty years had become well-known in its own way for remaining quite active at all times of the day. Many parts of the city never really stopped moving, the streets there always having some level of traffic.


    One such eternally-busy thoroughfare was known as Moores. It was a long, winding road that had been one of the first new additions a couple of decades earlier when the city began to expand. It had quickly become the main connection to at least half a dozen important manufacturing plants that had sprung up over the years once the previously abandoned automotive assembly plants were all taken up and put back to use. Moores linked a few of the more residential parts of the city with the new secondary industrial center, allowing thousands of workers every day to get to work. Accordingly, dozens of fast food, car repair, clothing, grocery and more shops had been built up along either side of it. Everything that those employees could possibly need at any point, visible along their drive to and from work in order to ensure that particular shop would spring into their mind anytime they needed that particular service.


    ¡°Skin-Head, what do you see?¡± The terse question came from a woman crouched behind a half-broken wall in the middle of an alley somewhere around the middle of Moores. She wore dark blue and white camo, with a matching tactical combat helmet that had a thick, interwoven mesh covering any formerly exposed parts of her face, and bright blue lenses over her eyes. Mika Holt, also known as Brumal, leader of the state-level Star-Touched team called the Spartans. Unlike the Federal-level Conservators, the Spartans only held authority within the specific states they were assigned to (Michigan, in this case), and could not legally operate outside those borders. They could participate in Collision Points that took place in other states if they were able to get there in time, at least. But they couldn¡¯t legally pursue their normal Star-Touched duties outside of their home state. That was the main difference between Spartans and Conservators. Or whatever each separate team called themselves. Spartans and Conservators were the default names, but some teams went with different titles depending on the area.


    At this particular moment, that didn¡¯t exactly matter, considering Detroit was well within the Spartans¡¯ jurisdiction. Really, it was the center of their operation. There was more than enough happening here in the city to keep them plenty busy without worrying about traveling to other parts of the state where they did have authority, let alone going any further than that. No, Detroit kept them plenty busy all by itself. Especially right now, with the whole gang war situation that showed no signs of relenting.


    The subject of Brumal¡¯s question was not crouched next to her behind that wall. Instead, she was speaking in the direction of a small, flickering blue-white flame on the ground nearby. Her voice carried through the flame to an identical one on the roof of the building next to her. The fire was cold rather than hot, leaving trails of ice everywhere the flames licked. When Brumal focused, she could cast not only her voice, but any of her senses through her cold-fire.


    Doing so right then allowed her to see the person she was addressing. Skin-Head, a tall, skinny, black man (he personally found his chosen moniker irreverently amusing) in his mid-thirties, wore very little in the way of costume, specifically to avoid any conflicts with his power to manipulate, extend, and harden his skin. Mostly he wore a simple metal band around his face that covered from his mouth up to his eyes, complete with hard black lenses for vision protection, a pair of black baggy shorts, and tennis shoes. The rest of his body was completely exposed. Not that it left him vulnerable at all, given his skin was constantly hard as steel (yet incredibly flexible) and could temporarily become even harder if he chose to focus on that at any point. Exposed as he was, Skin-Head was one of the two safest members of the Spartans in any physical confrontation.


    Standing up on the roof, the man glanced toward the small flickering blue flame where he clearly knew Brumal was watching. ¡°We¡¯ve got nothing up here. Not yet, anyway. Unless the kid sees something?¡± With that, he looked over to that side, where the Minority member known as Whamline stood in his standard black and brown army camouflage costume. His face was covered by a ski mask, and he wore a pair of heavy gauntlets, which enhanced his strength and had a few other tricks within them to help supplement his own powers.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Whamline answered simply, his gaze still focused on the street below. ¡°Looks quiet.¡±


    ¡°Both of you keep your eyes open,¡± Brumal ordered before shifting her focus. Rather than seeing through the flame on that roof, she was now seeing through one across the street, behind a fast food restaurant where two other members of her team, Versed and Boulderdash, were waiting. Versed was a pale young woman in her mid-twenties, wearing dark green pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, both of which were skintight and quite suited to showing off the girl¡¯s athletic form. She also wore black gloves and boots, with a green bandana-like mask over the top half of her face that left her blonde hair exposed in a ponytail, and a pair of dark goggles. Her powers allowed her to instantly know how to use any object as soon as she touched it, gradually growing those basic-level skills up to master-level the longer she kept hold of the object. Though she could only retain mastery of up to five objects at a time, gradually losing her skill with anything else the longer she went without touching that particular thing.


    Boulderdash, meanwhile, was one of those Touched who didn¡¯t really need a costume, as his condition was very obvious. He couldn¡¯t live a normal life, since he appeared to be entirely made of thick gray-black rock, with a very heavy turtle-like shell on his back. His own powers amounted to greatly enhanced strength and toughness (making him the other member of their team well-suited to a physical confrontation), along with the ability to roll himself into a ball surrounded by his shell. In that state, he was almost entirely invulnerable and could roll around at a speed of nearly a hundred and fifty miles per hour.


    After checking in with those two briefly and ensuring there was nothing visible from their side of things, Brumal turned her attention to the ice-fire next to the last member of her team. This particular flame lay in the back of a moving semi-trailer truck which was making its way through Detroit at that very moment. As soon as she focused her vision through it, she could see a single figure in the back of that truck. This was her final teammate/subordinate, Trivial. The youngest member of the Detroit Spartans at barely nineteen, Trivial wore tan pants over dark brown boots, with dark purple scalemail-like body armor and a black hooded cloak. Beyond the cloak, her face was also covered by a purple metal helmet with a dark visor. Her own powers were quite extensive, yet also quite minor. She had many different abilities at an incredibly low strength. She could turn invisible, but only for a few seconds. She could teleport¡­ a single foot at a time. She could hover¡­ five inches off the ground. She could make things slightly warmer by staring intently at them. Her senses were very slightly increased. She could telekinetically move a single object weighing one pound or less that was within five feet.


    And so the list went on. A dozen or more quite common powers, but only very slight versions thereof. If her powers had been stronger, she could have been one of the most powerful beings on the planet. As it was, Trivial was well-named, and used her collection of minor powers quite effectively, particularly in close-combat. She had spent years using skill and versatility to compensate for a lack of all-out strength. It was that determination and hard work that had made her quite popular on her Nebraska-based Minority team. Popular enough that there had been a bit of a rush to recruit her once she graduated. In the end, Brumal had convinced the girl to come here to Detroit, where she had been for the past nine months. It was, as far as the Spartan leader was concerned, a perfect fit. The team had needed fresh blood, someone with drive to make them better. Not only did this girl do that, her assortment of minor powers allowed her to fill many different slots, even if she would never be the type of Touched who stopped an Abyssal or anything like that.


    ¡°Trivial,¡± Brumal spoke through her cold flame, ¡°street¡¯s clear. Have you heard anything?¡±


    Glancing toward the flame, the youngest member of the team shook her head. ¡°Nope, not a thing, boss. It¡¯s been completely quiet. Haven¡¯t heard a peep out of anybody since we started moving. Hell, I can barely hear the music the driver¡¯s listening to. Dude¡¯s not cranking it like most of ¡®em do. Seriously, If I was any less professional, I might¡¯ve fallen asleep back here.¡±


    ¡°Well, don¡¯t do that,¡± Brumal instructed dryly. ¡°Walk around a bit more if you need to. Just stay alert. The info we¡¯ve got is good, trust me. Someone is coming after this shipment tonight, and we¡¯re right around the spot they¡¯re going to hit it at.¡±


    ¡°You got it, boss lady,¡± came the response. ¡°And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve been in a lot more boring situations than this. Hell, did I ever tell you about that time I was supposed to walk all the way¨C¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Save it for later, Trivial,¡± Brumal quickly put in. Good as the young girl was to have on the team, she was also a bit of a talker. Okay, a huge talker. She would babble on for hours if no one stopped her. And now that she had been stuck by herself in the back of a truck for so long, that urge was obviously boiling up inside her. Time to nip it in the bud before she really got going.


    After reminding the girl one more time and to keep her eyes open and be ready, Brumal returned her attention to her regular senses. Blinking away her cold-flame sight, she focused on the wall in front of her, listening to the moving cars on the street beyond. It had to be soon. Their contact had said the attack on the truck would be somewhere along this stretch of street. And she trusted that contact. Hell, she¡¯d certainly paid enough money over the months to trust it. And yet, she¡¯d expected to be able to see some sign of those supposed attackers setting up here long before the truck arrived. But there was nothing so far. Not a single hint of an ambush. Which wasn¡¯t good. If they couldn¡¯t figure out where the ambush was before it happened, the truck would be driving straight into it, and that was something she¡¯d been trying to avoid. But if she told the driver to call it off and take a different route, there was no way they¡¯d catch these guys. Could they still handle it if the truck was in the middle of things, or should she go ahead and play it safe, even if that meant losing this chance? And if she called off the truck, only for absolutely nothing to happen, she would look even more paranoid. As it was, the company already thought she was being overly cautious for having her whole team plus a member of the Minority waiting for what they thought was probably a hoax.


    The rise of Touched over the past couple of decades had done a lot to affect innate sexism in this sort of work, given that girl you were insulting could potentially burn a middle finger into your chest with her eyes. But it wasn¡¯t gone entirely, and Mika was both a woman and Native American. It was still pretty easy for the fat cats at the top of these corporate ladders to dismiss her opinion or just think she was being hysterical. Which made it really tempting to just let them lose a truck or two here or there, but she refrained. After all, it wouldn¡¯t really hurt those assholes that much. It¡¯d hurt the normal guys.


    Damn it, what was the right call? Pull the truck off or let it keep going and risk an attack from any side when they still weren¡¯t sure what was going on? She had two minutes to decide, if that.


    One more round. She would check on everyone one last time, then decide which way to¨C


    ¡°Incoming!¡± That call came not through her fire, but over the communicators they all wore. It was from Skin-Head, up on the roof. ¡°We¡¯ve got three unmarked and tinted SUVs coming in fast from the north. They¡¯re taking up every lane, forcing drivers off the road. Looks like they¡¯ve got a couple with mounted grapples. This is it, boss, they¡¯re gonna try to take the target off the road.¡±


    As soon as that report came in, Brumal was already shifting her focus to a flickering flame she had left up on the edge of a different roof, pointed that way. Sure enough, she saw exactly what the man was talking about. Three very dark SUVs were driving straight toward them at high speed, taking up basically the entire road. They were even forcing oncoming traffic to veer off. The two on either side had those enormous mounted grapple hooks, clearly intended to shoot at the semi they were speeding toward. This wasn¡¯t some minor operation, it was the real deal.


    Acting immediately, Brumal called through the flame in the truck for Trivial to have the driver stop, and to keep an eye on the road behind, just in case there was a pincer attack from that direction. Then she ordered the others to move on the SUVs, already vaulting her way over the half-broken wall in front of her and making the run out to the street beyond. A glance to the right showed her the truck just barely in view as it skidded to a stop with a loud scream of brakes protesting. Meanwhile, glancing to the left revealed the oncoming SUVs as they sped down the street straight toward her and the truck itself.


    From one side, she saw Boulderdash in his rock form, already racing ball-like along the side of the road straight toward the right-most vehicle. Meanwhile, Skin-Head and Whamline were dropping down on the one to the left from above. Just before they hit, Brumal sent a full wave of ice-flames up along the road. The cold-fire hit all three SUVs at the same time, instantly freezing the fronts of the vehicles solid and stopping them in place with a protesting squeal of metal. That single gesture was all it took to stop all three heavily armored SUVs in their tracks, which couldn¡¯t have done wonders for the inhabitants.


    An instant later, Boulderdash slammed full-on into the side of the truck to the left, shattering half the vehicle¡¯s frozen front-end before transforming back to his humanoid shape in time to rip the door off and grab the driver.


    At the same time, Whamline and Skin-Head had dropped onto the hood of the left-most vehicle. The Minority kid used two of his energy coils to rip the door off the center truck, pulling the passenger out and tossing him down along the road. Meanwhile, Skin-Head had already thrown himself through the cracked windshield of the left-truck to deal with the guys in there.


    ¡°Boss,¡± Trivial called through their comms, ¡°You were right, got two more vans coming up from behind. ETA fifteen seconds. Driver wants to know what we¡¯re doing.¡±


    Cursing under her breath, Brumal pivoted that way and started to move. ¡°Versed, with me. Trivial, tell the driver to stay right where he is. The truck¡¯s safest there. We¡¯re on the way.¡±


    As ordered, Versed came roaring out of the nearby alley on a motorcycle. Its loud motor filled the air just as she passed Brumal, slowing just enough to give the woman time to hop on the back before taking off once more at full-speed. Together, the two of them raced straight toward the waiting truck before splitting off to one side. As they passed the cab, both heard the driver shout out that he had a schedule to keep. Brumal¡¯s eyes rolled, as she muttered, ¡°Just hope you make it at all, dude.¡±


    By that point, their ride had made it past the truck. Those two vans that Trivial had reported were already there, turned sideways with the sliding doors in the midst of being hauled open to reveal two more mounted grapple guns inside. Grapples that were already being aimed toward the back doors of the truck. Just before they could fire, however, Brumal leapt from the skidding bike and sent a wave of frozen-fire into the air. The four-foot-long grappling hooks attached to the long chains were launched an instant later, but froze in mid-air as they hit Brumal¡¯s flames. The cold fire progressed all the way down the chains to the mounted launchers, leaving the whole system frozen solid.


    Meanwhile, Versed had produced a pistol with one hand and used several quick shots to blow out the tires of both vans before hopping off the still-moving bike as it went sliding into the driver¡¯s side door of the nearest van just in time to slam into it as the man within was trying to hop out.


    Glancing over her shoulder, Brumal saw Trivial at the back door of the semi, already dealing with one guy who had apparently made his way there. He had a pistol pointed at her, but just before he fired, the girl¡¯s body seemed to flicker as she used her one-foot-at-a-time teleportation power to shift instantly to one side. He tried to adjust, but she vanished again. That time, it was her ¡®three-second-invisibility¡¯ power, but the man didn¡¯t know that. He quickly spun around as though expecting her to appear behind him. Instead, Trivial reappeared right where she had been, lashing out with a kick that took the man in the back with enough force (her strength may have been only slightly enhanced, but it was still more than most people expected to come from a small waif of a girl like that) to knock him off the truck before he landed hard on his stomach on the ground.


    ¡°You good?!¡± the Spartan leader called that way.


    ¡°Am now,¡± Trivial confirmed, hopping to the ground with a slight use of her hovering power to slow the drop. Before her opponent could pick himself up, she had already slipped a pair of stay-down cuffs on him. ¡°But who the hell are these guys?¡±


    Turning back to the two vans, where more random troops were already slipping out, Brumal shook her head. ¡°I dunno yet.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go ask them.¡±


    *******


    Unfortunately, no real answers were forthcoming. Mostly because the men weren¡¯t talking. A few of them managed to escape and disappeared off into the night, but the rest just¡­ clammed up. They wouldn¡¯t talk about what gang they worked for, or even admit that they had been trying to hijack the truck full of high tech supplies. They wouldn¡¯t say anything at all. Once they were captured, the men simply remained completely silent. They didn¡¯t even try to escape once the handcuffs were on them. It was kind of¡­ weird, if Brumal was being honest. The whole situation was weird. She¡¯d gotten the info about the attempted hijacking from one of her street contacts, but that person hadn¡¯t known anything about who was actually doing the attack. Just that the word on the street had been that it would happen.


    And it had. These guys were well-equipped, well-trained, and clearly meant to grab the supplies out of the truck. Yet they didn¡¯t appear to be working for any of the established gangs. And they didn¡¯t have any Touched with them. So what was going on?


    Standing there at the edge of the street, watching as a small army worth of police poured over the unmarked, unlabeled SUVs and vans, Brumal slowly shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s not good, ma¡¯am?¡± That was Whamline, approaching from one side. ¡°I thought we did pretty great, to be honest. The truck and cargo are safe, no one was seriously hurt, and we caught most of the bad guys.¡±


    With a very short nod, Brumal agreed. ¡°You¡¯re right. That part¡¯s good. But we still have no idea who sent these guys, or why. They¡¯re well-trained, well-equipped, and they know to keep their mouths shut. I don¡¯t think they match any known gang in town either. This isn¡¯t the work of anyone we know. Which means we have a new player in town.¡±


    Whamline shrugged. ¡°I mean, they don¡¯t even have any Touched with them. So they can¡¯t be that bad, right?¡±


    ¡°Something tells me we haven¡¯t seen even the slightest hint of what they¡¯re capable of,¡± Brumal informed him. ¡°This was some kind of test. A test of their men, or their equipment, or us. I¡¯m not sure which. Maybe all of the above.¡±


    After a momentary hesitation, the boy slowly asked, ¡°If it was a test, did they pass or fail?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m worried about, kid,¡± Brumal quietly replied. ¡°I have no idea.


    ¡°But I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯re going to find out at the worst possible time.¡±

 Non-Canon 6 - Ministry Cassidy

    It should have been a dark and stormy night. That was the first thought to come into the mind of Cassidy Evans as she stood at the edge of an alley just across from a run-down and barely operational motel out on the edges of Detroit. But it was neither dark nor stormy. The sun was high in the sky, shining brightly against a complete lack of any clouds. It was a completely beautiful day, totally going against narrative convenience or structure.


    Cassidy herself would not have stood out in the least had she been seen standing there in the shadows of the nearby buildings, aside from the fact that she seemed to be lurking. The teenage girl wore an outfit of jeans and a t-shirt with a dark hooded windbreaker over it. On the other hand, she also would not have been at all recognizable to anyone outside of her family, given people who were not her parents or brother would only see a fairly nondescript blonde girl of completely different facial structure than she actually had. That, of course, was thanks to her mother¡¯s illusion-casting power. A power so strong that her mother could cast it on her and Cassidy could then go anywhere in the city while still being under its effect, as long as it was occasionally renewed in person.


    Her mother had a very strong power. So did her father. Her brother¡­ not so much. He wasn¡¯t Touched at all. But while the Summus Proelium orbs had entirely skipped Simon, they had not skipped his sister. Cassidy had a strong power too, which was part of what made her so useful and accepted despite her young age. Well, that and her intense devotion to both her family and their cause. A devotion that had led her to this point, watching that motel across the street.


    Her scanning eyes eventually located what she was looking for. A single room on the upper level of the motel opened and a man in a nondescript outfit of his own stepped out. To most people he would have appeared to be any other down-on-his-luck salesman staying in the cheapest motel possible. He wore a rumpled suit that couldn¡¯t have cost more than fifty bucks, and was juggling coins in his hand while counting them as though to make sure he had enough for the vending machine he was going toward. At a glance, he would appear to be no different than any other person stuck staying in a place like this.


    But Cassidy knew better. She saw the way he carried himself, the way his eyes scanned the lot below, alert for any threats. His posture, his build despite the poor quality of the suit, all of it led to one thing. This guy was former military or police. He was a trained bodyguard. That much was obvious. He was the sign she was looking for, proof that she was in the right place.


    Well, that and the fact that he matched the picture she¡¯d been given.


    Just as the man''s scanning eyes moved across the street, his head rising to look toward the spot where she was, Cassidy stepped sideways. Her body passed through the solid wall next to her. But she didn¡¯t come out inside the building itself. Instead, the girl appeared on the far side of the street, within the grounds of that same motel. In fact, she emerged directly below the upper walkway where the man was still standing. With that single step, her body entered the wall of the building on one side of the street, and exited through the wall of the motel room directly below the man who had just started to look in the direction of where she had been.


    No one saw that, of course. She had scanned the whole area to make sure the practically empty motel had no one else within line of sight, and the heavy curtains were drawn across the large windows of the nearby rooms. And even if they had, they would only see the illusion of what she looked like. It would¡¯ve been annoying if someone interrupted, running out to see how she¡¯d done what she had just done, but not the end of the world. Any commotion that alerted the man above her wouldn''t be enough to save him.


    And there was no commotion anyway. There was nothing. Listening intently, Cassidy heard the man above clear his throat before taking another few steps toward the vending machine. He fed coins into it and was making his selection. While he did that and the ancient, rundown machine began to rumble as it processed and began to dispense his choice, Cassidy¡¯s hand dipped into her pocket. She produced a short, slightly curved metal band. In one motion, the girl slapped it against her own forehead. Instantly, the band extended to encircle her entire head. Then it expanded up and down, forming a nearly completely smooth metal helmet with no indication of any facial features. At the same moment, identical bracelets on her wrists that were previously hidden under the sleeves of the windbreaker expanded into metal gloves over her hands. Tugging the hood of her black windbreaker up with one hand left the fairly creepy visage of a completely smooth silver metal mask framed within that dark hood.


    A costume or even a mask like this wasn''t actually needed to hide her identity, considering the illusion. But adding another layer of secrecy and protection was important, given how vital her family¡¯s secrecy was. Plus, it just made her feel right. You didn¡¯t do things like this without a mask.


    By that point, the vending machine above had given a dull thunk as it dispensed the bottle the man had requested. Cassidy immediately pivoted to face the wall behind her and stepped forward. This time, she emerged through the wall above her previous spot, just on the far side of the vending machine, toward the room the man had come from. She heard him barely a couple feet away, crouched to take the bottle from its slot, and even saw his feet. As he straightened and started to turn, she stepped sideways into the left wall of the vending machine itself, emerging through the right-hand side of it just as the man finished turning to where she had been. With his back now to her, he began walking to the room he had left as Cassidy peeked out from behind the machine to watch him.


    Smiling slightly behind the metal mask, Cassidy produced a quarter from one pocket and slung it sidelong into the wall next to her. It came out of the same wall much further down, just behind the man before rebounding off the metal railing right there with a loud clang. The instant it struck, she quickly hopped through the vending machine wall, emerging through the door of the motel room that had been just in front of the man. He had already spun toward the sound, a pistol appearing in his grip as he faced the spot the sound had come from. That put the man¡¯s back to her as Cassidy appeared directly behind him. Her hand rose, just as the man seemed to sense her presence and start to turn. But his reaction, while quick, was still too late to do him any good. A long, thin blade had already emerged from the back of her metal glove. It pierced the man¡¯s neck, sliding right through to the front of his throat before he could even finish turning. He was dead before he even knew what was happening. As he fell, Cassidy stepped back and looked at the floor of the walkway. The man¡¯s body hit and passed through it, ending up in the alley across the street where she had been standing before. She would have to get it cleaned up later before he could be found, but for now, the body was out of the way. No one would pass through that alley anytime within the next few minutes. And that was all this would take.


    With the man dealt with, Cassidy casually glanced up and down the walkway just in case. There was no sign of anyone. The maid would not be doing a walk-through of this area for at least another hour. Satisfied, she retracted the blade back into her gauntlet with a twitch of her hand before pivoting back the way the man had come from. The motel room right there at the far end still looked quiet and empty. But she knew better. Striding quietly that way, she approached the room while listening. Sure enough, the sound of the quiet television inside was audible through the thin walls, and she could see the flicker of it through a narrow crack between the thick curtains. She couldn¡¯t hear the people inside, yet knew they were there. Two of them, if her research was correct, and it usually was. There was another bodyguard similar to the first, and the actual target. The former would be wondering where his partner was any second, so she had to move quickly. This whole thing would be a lot easier if she did it before anyone inside got suspicious.


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    The curtains were drawn tight across the large window next to the door, but still had a small crack she could glance through to see just barely inside. It was only a very narrow view of the inside wall next to the door, but that was enough. With that image locked in her brain, she positioned herself in front of the door and knocked a few times. Then she watched the light visible through the peephole until it had gone dark. Someone was right there looking out at her. Before they could react to seeing the metal helmet, she drove her fist forward. The blade popped out of her gauntlet and went into the door. But instead of going through the door, the blade emerged from that narrow bit of inside wall next to the door that she had gotten a look at a moment earlier.


    The blade met flesh and she heard a wet gurgling sound from the other side. Rather than retracting the blade as the body fell away from it, she extended it all the way over to cut a bit of the curtains. The moment the blade cut away that small part of the fabric, she could see into the room. There was a wider view of the wall that was just enough for her to step into the door and out through that wall just beside the body of the man who was gurgling and coughing up blood on the floor. His gun lay beside him where he had dropped it. Without pausing to think about it, she drove the blade down once more to silence his gurgling.


    Meanwhile, the woman that she had actually come here for was scrambling up off the bed. Her mouth was opening to scream while she scrambled to grab a pistol lying on the nearby table. But Cassidy didn¡¯t give her time to do either. From the far side of the room, she turned and lashed out, kicking into the nearby wall. Her foot went through the wall to hit the table, knocking it over and sending the gun to the floor where the woman couldn¡¯t grab it. At the same time, her fist lashed backwards toward the nearby door, passing through that and out of the wall next to the woman¡¯s face to collide with her throat. The scream that had started turned to a violent choking sound. Still, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to draw attention.


    The dark-haired woman dropped to the floor on her hands and knees, struggling for breath. Meanwhile, Cassidy checked the room to make sure they were alone, taking a quick few steps to look in the bathroom before returning. By that point, the woman had recovered enough to start reaching for the gun nearby on the floor. But Cassidy simply stepped down hard into the floor, sending her foot up through the floor next to the gun to kick it aside. Then she kept walking that way.


    Finally getting a decent look at the masked figure walking toward her, the woman sputtered (in a voice that was still weak from being smacked in the throat), ¡°Wh-who--but you¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re just a kid. You¡¯re just a kid, what¡¯re you--why--¡±


    Stopping next to her, Cassidy spoke. ¡°Hi. Name¡¯s Votary. Do you know what that means?¡± Her voice was conversational. ¡°A lot of people think it means ¡®someone who voted¡¯ or ¡®someone who helps people vote.¡¯ But actually, it''s like¡­ the devoted follower or advocate of something. A zealous believer or sworn adherent, that kind of thing. So, knowing that, you should know that I''m pretty loyal to something. I mean, that''s my name. And do you know what I''m loyal to?¡± Crouching down, she spoke a little more softly. ¡°The Ministry.¡±


    Hearing that, the woman started to sputter excuses, but Cassidy (or Votary) cut her off. ¡°You found out about the Ministry, huh? Then you thought it would be a good idea to try to extort them. Threatening to go public with what you found out.¡± Looking across the room toward the dead body and then back to the woman, she conversationally asked, ¡°How''s that working out for you?¡±


    Giving a violent shudder, the woman shook her head and quickly blurted, ¡°N-no, listen, listen, we can make a deal. I have a daughter, I have a little girl. She has powers. Really strong powers. Your people need powers like that, right? I can help you get her on your side.¡±


    With a sigh, Cassidy shook her head. ¡°Seriously, Mrs. Amor--or is it Miss? Never mind, it really doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re right, you do have a daughter. And we¡¯ll take good care of Izzy. But we don¡¯t exactly need you around to do that. In fact, you¡¯re kind of a detriment to the whole situation. You¡¯re a bad mother, and a really stupid criminal. I mean honestly, trying to extort people like us and then staying in the city?¡±


    ¡°Wh-why?¡± Mariana Amor stammered. ¡°You¡¯re just a kid. You can¡¯t be older than Izzy. Why would you--why would you be like this?¡± Her eyes were staring toward the corpse of her former hired bodyguard.


    ¡°One, I¡¯m older than I look,¡± Cassidy informed her. ¡°And two¡­ let¡¯s just say that a few years ago my best friend and his family were murdered by people trying to take down the Ministry. Hell, it was so traumatic my family almost erased my memory. But I got powers first, and that changed things. Now? Well, now I make sure that what happened to Anthony never happens again. Anyone who might be a threat to my family or the people I care about? They don¡¯t get to be threats for long. And you¡­ you made yourself a threat.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not--I¡¯m not a threat,¡± Mariana insisted. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll leave, you can keep Izzy, you can keep all of it. I don¡¯t care. Take her, make her one of you, whatever you want. I won¡¯t say anything, I won¡¯t do anything. Who¡¯d believe me anyway? It¡¯s fine, okay? It¡¯s fine, you do whatever you need to. I¡¯m not a threat, how could I be? I couldn¡¯t do anything, I couldn¡¯t convince anyone. I¡¯m nobody.¡±


    ¡°Finally,¡± Cassidy put in, ¡°we agree on something.¡± With that, she put her blade through the woman''s throat while covering her mouth as the scream started to come. Waiting till she was fully dead, the girl retracted the blade and rose.


    She walked to the window, glancing out to make sure there was no unexpected company. Her gaze focused across the street into the alley where she could just barely make out the body of the first man. Under her stare, the ground under the body and the floor next to her were connected, and she was able to reach down, grab the corpse, and pull it through to the room so he could join his partner.


    Now that the body that had been in the alley wouldn¡¯t be found, Cassidy pivoted to walk over to the bathroom. There, she washed off the metal gauntlets in the sink, then took a towel, soaked it down, and wiped off the front of the helmet where blood had splattered up onto it.


    Once she was clean, the girl then began to methodically look through the room itself. It took about twenty minutes to do a thorough search, finding every piece of evidence or information that Mariana had gathered in her attempt to blackmail the Ministry. All of it went into a small trash bag that had been helpfully provided by the motel itself, before she tied it off and set the bag on the nearby bed to wait for a moment while she did one last scan. Cassidy was pretty sure there was nothing else to find, but it never hurt to double-check things, no matter how certain you were.


    A few minutes later, she was finally satisfied. Even then, however, the Ministry¡¯s cleaners would do their own thorough search when they came to deal with the bodies. Still, Cassidy didn¡¯t want to be embarrassed by having missed something important. Her brother would never let her hear the end of it.


    Tapping the side of the helmet, she activated the phone function and told it to call Newsome. It wasn¡¯t the man¡¯s real name, but that was what he went by in the field. Once he answered, she spoke. ¡°It¡¯s Votary. She¡¯s dead, with two accomplices, just like you thought. No extra paperwork.¡± Paperwork, in this case, was a euphemism for unexpected witnesses that had somehow gotten into the situation and had to be silenced one way or another. ¡°I¡¯ve got what she had, but make your men strip the room just in case.¡±


    ¡°Understood,¡± came the flat response. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°We still have eyes on the daughter?¡± Cassidy asked.


    There was a brief pause before the answer came. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s at the friend¡¯s house. Still thinks her mother¡¯s on a trip. You want us to pick her up?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Cassidy answered. She gave one last look around the room, then grabbed the evidence bag and walked into the door. A second later, she emerged into the alley where she had first started, tapping the button that would retract her helmet and leave her face exposed (albeit still covered by the illusion). ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Izzy myself.


    ¡°I think the two of us could be great friends.¡±

 Interlude 16B - Conservators

    At one point, an enormous warehouse had taken up an entire block of Gratiot Avenue. The original, smaller version had stood for many years before Touched had become a thing. Once the city began to be revived, the warehouse had been almost entirely rebuilt and expanded to take up much more room. Just another in a very long list of ways that Detroit had been reborn.


    And now it was gone. The entire place had been burnt almost entirely to the ground. There was barely anything left, save for a few pieces of wall, some of the foundation, and scattered rubble.


    In a way, that perfectly fit with the whole comparison to the city being reborn thanks to Touched. Because they did a lot of damage too. The warehouse was reborn, expanded, and improved. But in the end, it was also destroyed. The very thing that gave it new life ended up taking that same life, and now there was almost nothing left. It had been rundown before, but at least it existed. Now, after a relatively brief burst of renewal, it was all-but completely gone.


    The woman known to the public as Flea truly hoped that the analogy with Detroit itself wouldn¡¯t go that far. And yet, as she stood on the sidewalk surveying the broken remnants of the demolished building, she couldn¡¯t help but compare it to the gang war that only seemed to be getting worse.


    ¡°There a reason Smithy doesn¡¯t have to play detective today?¡±


    The voice that interrupted Flea¡¯s thoughts belonged to Dynamic. She was a speedster of unlimited stamina who was capable of draining other people¡¯s powers by running near them, then using that power to create energy constructs with additional elements related to the powers she had drained. And that unlimited stamina thing extended as far as never needing to sleep. It truly was a bottomless well of energy.  Which was one of the main reasons Flea and Dynamic worked so well together. The fact that Flea was capable of draining stamina from people to add to her own, combined with the fact that Dynamic had an unlimited amount of it, meant that any time the Detroit Conservators¡¯ second-in-command needed a little hit of energy to keep going, she could always take some from the speedster. They had an arrangement for that.


    ¡°Silversmith had prior commitments.¡± As she gave that simple, pat answer, Flea glanced over toward the younger woman. At that moment, she couldn¡¯t help but compare their appearances. Her own costume consisted of a black Tech-Touched chainmail-like top, simple blue pants that were loose on her legs and gave her very free range of motion, and a helmet that was essentially that of a samurai, with mandible-protrusions to fit with her theme. A light blue cloak with gold trim hung from her shoulders, and she carried a katana across her back along with two short swords attached to her hips.


    Dynamic, on the other hand, looked very different. Her entire body was encased in gem-like purple armor that was so smooth and featureless she appeared to be a glass statue when standing still. The look was completed by the fact that the helmet she wore left only the vague impression of facial features, as if they had been chiseled into the amethyst gemstone the armor appeared to be made out of. In motion, Dynamic was incredibly fast and agile. But when she wasn¡¯t moving, an onlooker could be excused for believing that some incredibly talented artist had sculpted her.


    ¡°Prior commitments, huh?¡± Dynamic made a noise in the back of her throat that made her opinion of that clear. It was¡­ odd. While the man was a clear champion for the city, who had risked his life so many times and was loved and trusted basically above all else by basically everyone of note, for some reason Dynamic had never liked him. Oh, she followed his orders and did everything she was supposed to. She worked with the team, and he was the leader of the team. She didn¡¯t argue with him¡­ much. And never in battle. But she never liked him. It was a fact she kept mostly quiet about to everyone except Flea. Yet when the two of them were alone, she made no secret of her dislike for the man.


    Then again, Dynamic generally liked to be contrary anyway. She was one of a quickly growing number of people pushing to have the name Conservator changed. Apparently they wanted to rename the organization Corona (as in the circles of glowing light seen around the sun or stars for Star-Touched) and call members of the group Coroknights. The movement had been gaining traction in recent weeks when several members of the senate had expressed interest.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Flea replied simply, ¡°prior commitments. He has his own life he has to take care of. A¡­ family, I think.¡± That was another odd thing, this time about Silversmith himself. And perhaps a big reason for Dynamic¡¯s dislike. The rest of the Detroit Conservators had all unmasked to one another. They knew each other¡¯s real names, their families, everything. Which certainly wasn¡¯t required. Anyone on the team was allowed to keep their identity secret if they chose to. But the fact that their leader was the only one who exercised that right was, perhaps, a little strange. He, however, simply said that he had people he loved who had to be protected and that as long as everyone knew he never let even his own teammates know his identity, no one would try to get at those loved ones through that team.


    For a moment, the two women looked at each other. Flea imagined she could see Dynamic¡¯s much younger (nineteen compared to her own twenty-eight) Hispanic face through that violet gem-like helmet, staring pointedly at her, eyes silently yet clearly insisting that their team leader was just as much of a dick as she had always been convinced he was.


    However, before either of them could speak again, the sound of footsteps approaching made them turn to see the rest of the team (sans Silversmith, of course) approaching. Three figures, all male. They came from the van that they had clearly just arrived in and parked across the street.


    ¡°You guys found anything important yet?¡± Kriegspiel asked. He was the oldest member of the team. Older than Silversmith even, Flea was pretty sure. The man had turned fifty a month earlier, though he was in pretty good shape for that. Which was helped by his Touched ability. It allowed him to enhance the strength, power, speed and so forth of everyone in an area he considered an ally, as well as allowing them all to communicate with one another mentally and even see through each other¡¯s eyes or share what they were seeing. He always used his power on himself to even greater effect than others, meaning that though just over fifty, he had the physical attributes of someone half his age in top condition. For ten minutes at a time (one minute less for each additional person he was aiding beyond himself), he could push his power and raise that boost to about double what a normal human was capable of. He was also a fairly tall man at nearly six foot five, with gray-black hair worn long, to his shoulders. His costume consisted of tan body armor under a brown duster, with a black mask that covered the bottom half of his face, and a wide-brimmed sable fedora identical to that worn by Indiana Jones. He wore what appeared to be an ordinary revolver, but was actually a Touched-Tech gun, from a holster on one hip.


    ¡°Nope.¡± The answer didn¡¯t come from Flea or Dynamic. Instead, it came from the shorter man walking to Kriegspiel¡¯s left, who had been the youngest member of the team at barely twenty-two before Dynamic had joined them straight out of the Minority. RePete (his real name wasn¡¯t Pete, he just thought it was amusing to make people think it had to be) wore his usual costume of green camo pants, army boots, a black turtleneck, dark gloves, a green ski mask, and quite possibly half of the guns in the city. He wore a pistol on either hip, a shotgun across his back, a smaller pistol on either ankle, and another pair of small pistols holstered halfway up either arm. Those last two were holstered with one on the outside of his right arm and one on the inside of the left, their grips positioned so that he could cross his arms and yank both weapons free.


    And those were just the guns that were in plain sight. Flea was confident that he had more.


    ¡°They just got here, same as us,¡± RePete continued.


    ¡°Reap,¡± Dynamic flatly reminded the man while using what the team had settled on as the more serious ¡®nickname¡¯ version of his chosen moniker, ¡°you know everyone hates it when you do that, right? We¡¯ve made that clear?¡±


    ¡°As crystal,¡± was the response. If he was abashed at all, the man didn¡¯t show it. No matter how often they complained, he would still randomly use his power to, in his mind, speed along conversations. His gift was a powerful, though limited one. It allowed him to set a marker and then repeat (hence the name) the previous five seconds with everything he already knew from that time. After that, he could choose to repeat four of those seconds again, then a third time for the last three of those seconds before the marker would expire. It gave him three increasingly short-windows to change or react to something.


    Or, in this case, to answer a question someone else had answered in the original timeline.


    ¡°Hey, hey, be nice to the ladies!¡± Those words came from the final member of their team. And what a member he was. Walking on Kriegspiel¡¯s right, opposite from RePete, was a wiry black man in his late thirties, just over six feet in height. His costume consisted of full padded body armor. But rather than being dark or camo-colored, the torso part of the armor was colored and patterned after a bright, loud Hawaiian shirt (he had several versions using different specific colors, this one was blue with bright palm trees). The pants part of the outfit were the usual black. Meanwhile, his identity was concealed behind a metal helmet that covered the top half of his face and almost his entire head, leaving only his mouth exposed. His eyes were covered by lenses whose color matched that of whatever Hawaiian pattern he was wearing at any given time.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    He was, in short, not what people pictured if they knew that his chosen name of Bokor referred to a male vodou sorcerer who created zombies. That was, however, a decent name for someone with his power, which allowed him to create zombie-like duplicates of any person he could see. The duplicates weren¡¯t able to use any Touched powers the original had, but they were very strong and tough. Plus, they could expel a gas from their mouths that made people who breathed it in tired, weak, clumsy, and generally more likely to surrender.


    ¡°After all,¡± Bokor was saying, his voice bright, ¡°we¡¯re a team here, yeah? To be a good team, we make each other comfortable, not annoy each other. Hey, who wants to hear a joke?¡±


    Though no one on the team answered him, Bokor nodded toward a figure who had just appeared next to RePete. A ¡®zombie¡¯ duplicate of him who stood with his arm raised. ¡°Why thank you, ReRePete,¡± Bokor spoke with a broad smile at his own humor. Then, he quickly asked, ¡°How did the man build his house out of snow? Iglood it!¡± As soon as the words left his mouth, he was already guffawing, pounding a fist against his own chest. ¡°My nephew told me that one!¡± The pride in the man¡¯s voice made it clear just how he felt about the joke, and about his nephew in general.


    Chuckling despite herself, though mostly out of admiration for how much Bokor cared about and doted on his sister¡¯s little boy, Flea gestured. ¡°We need to get busy. Spread out, look for anything that might give us an idea of who or what took down this building. Anything the regular searchers might have overlooked or just missed.¡±


    So, that was exactly what they did. Each of them began picking through piles of ashes and debris. There was, of course, very little to find. Whoever had burned this building down had done a very thorough job. They had clearly wanted to be certain that it would be impossible, or near to it, to find anything that explained what this place had really been, or who had been behind it. The original inspectors had found nothing useful. That was why the Conservators had been called in to begin with, out of the hope that something would stand out to them based on their own experiences. Or that one of their gifts would be useful somehow. It was a long shot, but then, they didn¡¯t exactly have much else. The authorities were torn between being very confused about why this place had been burned so thoroughly, and not¡­ particularly caring that much because it was just a warehouse with no owner stepping forward to claim damages. The biggest reason for the investigation was due to just how thoroughly the place had been destroyed. Ironically, whoever had taken such pains to ensure that there would be nothing for investigators to find had actually drawn more investigators than there would¡¯ve been otherwise.


    In any case, now it was time to find out just what there was to find around here.


    ******


    Nothing. There had been nothing to find¡­ in the remains of the warehouse. Fortunately, the same couldn¡¯t be said for the area around the warehouse. The authorities had already asked nearby businesses for access to security footage, of course, to no avail. However, while doing a run around the neighborhood, Dynamic had spotted something curious. A single, almost entirely-hidden camera pointed in the direction of where the warehouse had been. The camera was small, one of those that was meant to be set up above a garage or door at home for personal security. It had been secured to the wall of a building across the street, hidden behind a dumpster in a way that ensured it was almost impossible to spot. The camera itself had sent its footage across a wi-fi signal to a device attached to the bottom of the dumpster itself, which would in turn broadcast that footage to a receiver far away.


    It had taken some time, almost two hours, to get their tech people to track that signal to its source. Which was almost a miracle in and of itself, because according to the tech guys, the receiver was set up so that whoever was on the other end should have been able to shut it down the second they started tracking it. The thing had sent an alarm that way before they could stop it. Yet, the connection was never turned off. Apparently the person wasn¡¯t paying attention to their alarm for whatever reason. The alarm they had specifically set up to warn them about someone tracking the signal, and yet they weren¡¯t doing anything to stop that very thing?


    Regardless, the tech guys found the source. Which was what led the five Conservator members to this spot out in the middle of nowhere, an hour and a half from Detroit itself. Specifically, a literal cabin in the woods near Lake Victoria.


    They¡¯d driven out here in a van, despite Dynamic insisting she should run ahead. Mostly because she got bored sitting still in a vehicle. Being capable of running hundreds of miles per hour, and having unlimited stamina, Dynamic really didn¡¯t see the point of spending time in vehicles. Not knowing what might be out there, Flea had refused. She wanted everyone together, just in case they were about to walk into something bad. Whoever had gone through the trouble of burning down the warehouse had wanted to be damn sure nothing was ever found of it. And yet, they didn¡¯t bother to shut down the signal from their hidden security camera after it was traced? Something strange was going on, and Flea didn¡¯t trust any of it. Part of her wished Silversmith was here, whatever Dynamic¡¯s reservations.


    The cabin itself was a couple of miles up a gravel road once they had passed through a metal security gate. Or what had once been a gate. Something had smashed into it somewhat recently with enough force to slam the thing open permanently. That had led to even more confusion about what was going on here. Was this whole situation some kind of fight between two mysterious parties that no one knew about? Was it possible that the person who burned down the warehouse wasn¡¯t the same person who owned or operated it? That had been discounted by the authorities simply because of how much work and set-up burning that place down so completely would have required. It wasn¡¯t a simple arson fire. Someone would have had to be inside for an extended time, possibly weeks, to ensure everything was set properly for it to be so thoroughly destroyed so quickly.


    Hopefully, they would find some answers inside this small cabin. At least, that was what Flea told herself as the five of them stood together about twenty feet from the porch, eyes carefully scanning for anything out of the ordinary. They had parked the van so that the headlights illuminated the front door, and thus far had seen nothing suspicious. On the other hand, they hadn¡¯t seen anything not suspicious either. They¡¯d seen nothing, heard nothing. The cabin appeared to be empty. Which would go a long way toward explaining why nobody had responded to the alarm the camera had sent when they started tracing the signal, but still.


    ¡°Hey, Flea,¡± Dynamic called over to her from the far end of their assembled line, ¡°your family¡¯s pretty rich, how many cabins did you grow up with?¡±


    ¡°Just in the woods like this, or on the beach too?¡± Flea retorted. ¡°Three and five respectively. Oh, six if you count the villa in Italy. That¡¯s sort of a cabin. A little bit. Anyway, doesn¡¯t really matter. I haven¡¯t been to any of them since¡­ you know.¡± They all knew. Her father had been angry with Flea (or rather, Irelyn) for choosing to go from the Minority to the Conservators rather than signing up to lead his own corporate security team. So angry, in fact, that he, and the rest of her family, had barely spoken to her since she¡¯d done it almost ten years earlier. There was the occasional hurried e-mail, text, or christmas letter from her mom, and a bit more than that from her younger sister. But for the most part, they followed the family patriarch¡¯s orders to leave the family traitor out in the cold.


    It had been a hard choice, but Irelyn wouldn¡¯t change it if she could. She was overall happier this way, even if it had meant walking away from her family and her easy, privileged life.


    ¡°We doing this?¡± Bokor finally asked, once the five had taken in the view for long enough.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Flea confirmed. ¡°Go for it.¡±


    With a nod, the man gestured. Immediately, ¡®zombie¡¯ duplicates of  the five of them appeared and began to walk toward the cabin. Flea and the others weren¡¯t going to take any chances about this place being booby-trapped, just in case. In fact, they took a few extra steps back closer to the van, and watched as their clone-like selves approached the door.


    ¡°And,¡± Kriegspiel announced, ¡°we¡¯re live.¡±


    With that, Flea was abruptly able to, with a small bit of focus, see through the eyes of her zombie duplicate rather than through her own. It had been a strange thing to get used to at first, but she had plenty of experience by now. Around her, the others would be linked to their own copies, as Kriegspiel used his power to connect each of them with the zombies that Bokor created. He also linked them with their other selves telepathically, allowing them to send messages. Normally this would simply be communication, but since Bokor had ordered the zombies to obey them, Flea and the others could essentially steer and control their duplicates through that mental connection. It was one example of how well Bokor and Kriegspiel worked together. Now if only the two of them would figure out the feelings they had for each other before she had to strangle them both. While Bokor had been an out-and-proud pansexual man since he was a teenager, Kriegspiel had grown up over a decade earlier and had more problems. He had been self-closeted through twenty years of an unhappy marriage before finally separating, and was only beginning to explore the fact that he was gay.


    The two of them really were great together, in personality and the way they could use their powers, but it wasn¡¯t Flea¡¯s place to point that out. No matter how much she wanted to.


    Instead, she turned her attention back fully to what her duplicate was seeing as they all worked their way through the cabin. Whoever had been living and working out here had something to do with that warehouse. Whether they were responsible for burning it down or not, they clearly knew something. Which meant the Conservators needed to talk to them.


    ¡°Found something,¡± RePete finally announced, once they had been searching the cabin fruitlessly for about ten minutes.


    It was strange to hear that voice coming from just a couple feet to her left where the real RePete was standing, yet have to walk her zombie duplicate all the way through the cabin to where his was. But soon, Flea and the others had done just that, until all of their duplicate selves were standing together in what turned out to be the bathroom.


    ¡°Couple envelopes fell behind the toilet,¡± RePete informed them, holding them up. ¡°Whatever was inside is long gone, but we¡¯ve got a name, at least.


    ¡°So who exactly is Robert Parson?¡±

 In Like Flynn 17-01

    Needless to say, Izzy and I had a lot to talk about that night. The two of us took a long walk near the mall after I changed clothes and got back to her, going over everything that had happened. I told her about Peyton, about Deicide calling in her favor and what exactly she wanted, about the whole Paige situation and how that was suddenly a much bigger priority than I had thought, all of it. It was a huge dump of information, obviously, and I wanted to get all of it out before we went home. Besides, walking around helped me think a bit, and God knew I really needed to think.


    There was one good thing about Paige¡¯s situation being so dire, at least. It meant that everything else had to wait. She was the priority. Seriously, my feelings about the girl might be complicated considering the years we¡¯d spent at each other¡¯s throats, but logically I knew that wasn¡¯t her fault. It didn¡¯t entirely help my subconscious feelings and emotions and all, but still. And after everything she¡¯d done to try to avoid carrying out her father¡¯s orders, I owed her. So, I was going to do this whole virtual reality thing, see inside that computer core of hers, and save her from this evil virus double. Or, well, that was the goal, at least. Here was hoping we actually pulled it off.


    In any case, talking about it with Izzy helped organize my thoughts about the whole thing. There was nothing else we could do about Paige until tomorrow evening.


    While we were walking around, I¡¯d also texted Pack to tell her that I had to ask something important that had to do with ¡®the girl we took to the shop¡¯, and her first response had been to ask what was going on and if it was an emergency. So, I sent back a bit about the situation and said that it was important, but that we couldn¡¯t do anything about it until the next evening. She, in turn, asked to meet me the next afternoon on the roof of some old tire shop to get details.


    So, with that much done, Izzy and I had gone home. We ate a snack in the kitchen while making a point to talk about the movies we had supposedly both seen (she told me about them while we were walking so I¡¯d know what to say) in front of the household staff before heading to our rooms. And, once again, the two of us ended up talking even more, long into the night before falling asleep together in the same bed. All in all, it could¡¯ve been a much worse day.


    The next morning, we were up and talking some more before it was time to get up. I¡¯d already gotten so accustomed to splitting my sleep, getting only a few hours at night and a few here and there during the day, that it was weird sleeping almost all the way through. I was newly refreshed even before the sun finished rising. Which was probably a good thing, because I was pretty sure this whole situation with Paige tonight was going to end up being a doozy.


    Sitting cross-legged on my bed, Izzy asked, ¡°Do you really think this umm, Pack is going to want to go in and help you save Paige? I mean, she doesn¡¯t really know her, right? And it¡¯s not like she¡¯ll get anything she wants out of it. There¡¯s no reward or anything.¡± She shifted a bit, clearly feeling uncomfortable just bringing it up. ¡°I just mean, yeah, she likes you or whatever. She¡¯s been nice to you and helped and all. And she wants to do something about the Ministry¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why she¡¯ll help,¡± I put in. ¡°She knows that Paige knows more about the Ministry, and that she can help us do something about them. Or at least get her a better deal. I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s what Pack¡¯s leaning toward¡­¡± Trailing off, I sighed before adding, ¡°So yeah, I think she¡¯ll help, because her reward is getting more info about the Ministry and being in a better position overall.¡±


    ¡°And Peyton?¡± she immediately asked. ¡°Do you think she¡¯s umm, you know, ready for this?¡± Once again, the younger girl looked awkward. She clearly felt weird about questioning how ready a girl several years older than her was to do this sort of thing. But it was completely fair, considering Izzy had been using her powers and working alongside a team to help people for awhile now, much longer than even I had. And Peyton, meanwhile, had been doing this for¡­ well, about a day. Despite the difference in their ages in one direction, there was a big difference in experience in the other.


    Of course, thinking about that made me realize something that I really should¡¯ve thought about before. Biting my lip, I looked over to the other girl. ¡°Izzy, do you¡­ feel bad that you¡¯re not involved in this? I mean you are, you help me just by talking about this stuff, seriously. You make me feel like my head¡¯s not about to explode. But¡­ I mean, do you feel left out because I¡¯m not taking you to help with stuff like this? I um, I mean, in some ways you¡¯re in an even worse position than me. You have to go play good little Minority teammate and pretend you don¡¯t know anything. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s gotta be hard. I know it¡¯s hard. And I¡¯m really sorry about that. I wish there was something I could do¨CI mean something we could do. It¡¯s just, you know, really complicated.¡±


    For a moment, Izzy didn¡¯t say anything. She seemed to be considering, her expression pensive. Finally, she gave a very slight nod and quietly spoke. ¡°Uh huh. It¡¯s really complicated. And yeah, part of me feels a little¡­ bad that I don¡¯t get to be there, and that I have to keep pretending not to know anything. It¡¯s hard. But I know why I have to, and I know why I can¡¯t be involved with, like, actually helping. Physically helping. I know, I get. I just¡­ I wish I could do something. And I wish we could find my mom. I know, I know she¡¯s bad and all. I just¡­ I wanna make sure she¡¯s okay.¡±


    Wow, yeah that was rough. Wincing, I reached out to take her hand. ¡°I know. I get it. Believe me, I do. Look at my parents, my whole family. We know what they are. But if they were missing, I¡¯d still be worried about them. I¡¯d be out of my mind. I¡¯d still want them to be okay.¡±


    Izzy, in turn, shook her head, voice firm. ¡°It¡¯s not the same. Your parents love you. They didn¡¯t try to sell you into slavery, or get pissed because they couldn¡¯t make enough money off you, or¨Cor hurt you like that. They¡¯d never hurt you, Cassidy. Not on purpose. They¨Cthey really love you.¡±


    Oh boy. Yeah, I knew what the implied bit of that was, that her own mother didn¡¯t love her. And why shouldn¡¯t she think that? After everything that piece of shit had done, after what she¡¯d tried to do to her own kid, she deserved¨Cyeah. She deserved a lot of bad things that I shouldn¡¯t think about.


    Still, I swallowed back all those thoughts, managing a quiet response. ¡°I know. I know my parents love me and that it¡¯s not the same as your situation with your mom. But I still get it. You love your mom and you want to know that she¡¯s okay. You don¡¯t want anything bad to happen to her.¡±


    A very slight blush of guilt crossed the other girl¡¯s face then, before she held up two fingers close together and whispered, ¡°Maybe I¡¯m okay with a little bit of a bad thing happening. I mean, prison. Jail. I think she should go to jail. She tried to do bad things to me and she might¡¯ve done other bad things, I dunno. I think she should go to jail for it. Maybe¡­ maybe if she does, she¡¯ll realize what she did was wrong and umm¡­ get better?¡± There was a small, very faint hint of hopefulness to her voice that really tore at me. Wow, that hurt.


    For a few seconds, I had no idea what to say. I didn¡¯t want to tell her that her mother wasn¡¯t likely to change, especially not from being in jail. Who was I to crush that tiny little hope she had? Especially considering all the private hopes I had about how things with my family might end up turning out. I¡¯d be a gigantic fucking hypocrite of the worst caliber.


    So, in the end, all I could do was squeeze Izzy¡¯s hand and quietly reply, ¡°I¡¯ll help you find her as soon as we can. I promise. We¡¯ll figure out where she went and¡­ and what happened. And if we can get her back here and make her go to prison, we¡¯ll do that, okay?¡±


    Izzy, in turn, met my gaze. I could see a lot of different emotions working their way through her before she finally nodded, her own voice barely audible. ¡°Okay, Cassidy.


    ¡°And thanks. I¡¯m really glad I have you to talk to. Because you help me too.¡±


    ********


    School that day seemed like it would never end. It was impossible for me to focus and I even blew it more than once when a teacher wanted me to answer a question. I kept zoning out, watching the clock and imagining what the whole trip into Paige¡¯s computer thing was going to be like. And, of course, worrying about what would happen if we couldn¡¯t save her. Not to mention everything that was going on with Deicide¡¯s favor and finding this Amanda girl.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The point was, I had a lot of stuff to be distracted by. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t tell my teachers the reasons I was distracted, so I just had to deal with their annoyed or disappointed looks. Oh well, I supposed I would try to make it up later when I took a few of these things off my plate.


    Hah, listen to me trying to pretend that I didn¡¯t know full well that more things would land on the plate just as quickly as I cleared them off. It almost sounded like I was that optimistic, didn¡¯t it?


    Either way, the school day couldn¡¯t literally drag on forever, no matter how it felt. Eventually, classes were over and I bolted, with a few quick words toward my friends on the way out. Someone said something about a party that weekend, but the best I could manage was a noise acknowledging the invitation before hitting the doors almost full-speed. There was no way I was going to be able to hang out and chat just to look sociable. Yeah, I wasn¡¯t actually doing the Paige thing until that evening. But I still had to meet with Pack to find out if I was right about her being willing to go on this little trip. And talk to her about Peyton coming along too. I had the feeling that was going to be a fun conversation all on its own. Especially when the possibility of eventually telling the girl about the whole Ministry situation inevitably came up. I still wasn¡¯t sure what I was going to do about that. I couldn¡¯t worry about it right this second. There was too much else to focus on.


    Including, apparently, catching myself from plowing straight into San as I jogged down the front walk of the school. He was looking the other way and I barely managed to skid to a halt, comically flailing my arms in the process, right before I would have planted my face right into his shoulder. The hopeful part of me wanted to say I¡¯d knock him down, but the truth was that I¡¯d probably bounce right off.


    Noticing my flailing, last second stop, San turned my way. ¡°Dude, what is with the girls in this school running all over the place? First I try to have a nice conversation with Dani about how awesome Amber is before she practically runs over me saying something about her aunt calling home, and now my good, wonderful, oh-so-polite friend Cassidy tries to turn me into road pizza too.¡±


    Barely paying attention to what he was saying, I stopped just long enough to apologize and added something about needing to get home so I could take my parents¡¯ call from their hotel. Whatever San¡¯s response was ended up being lost in the wind as I ran all the way off the school grounds. I¡¯d already told Jefferson that morning that he didn¡¯t need to pick me up because I would be hanging out with friends for awhile. So all he had to do was take Izzy home, which I was sure he was thrilled by, considering how much time it shaved off his route. Yeah, he didn¡¯t like his schedule being unexpectedly changed. But as long as he was told early enough, I was pretty sure the prospect of saving time outweighed the annoyance of change. At least, that was the impression I¡¯d got. Telling him in the morning or the night before that he wouldn¡¯t have to wait around for me tended to go over a lot better than if I tried to call and cancel when he was literally on the way, or even waiting. I¡¯d found that out the hard way.


    So, he wasn¡¯t there waiting for me, thankfully. Instead, I simply ran off the school grounds, cutting my way through all the other cars (including a fair number of dark SUV¡¯s and limousines) that were lined along the front waiting to pick up their own passengers, and continued across the street. My backpack bounced with each pounding step, reminding me of the heavy weight of my helmet in the very bottom. I really needed to find a better, safer way of going around with this stuff. I was probably pushing my luck every time I went to school with it. But I wasn¡¯t sure what else I could do besides always going home to my closet to change. At times like this, when I had to change and get out there as soon as possible, I had to take the risk of carrying it. Or, again, find another way. But I couldn¡¯t think of what that could be.


    Getting myself out of sight, making sure I wasn¡¯t being followed or spied on, and quickly changing into my costume, I headed on my way. I had to double-check the location of the tire shop that Pack had asked to meet at. Thankfully, it was in the same general neighborhood as Wren¡¯s place, so I had a good idea of how to paint my way there.


    Apparently I had such a good idea of how to get there that I completely beat Pack. Seriously, I was there and lounging around on the roof for a solid ten minutes before finally hearing the sound of someone climbing the ladder. I was back on my feet and facing that way, ready just in case it turned out to be someone else randomly climbing onto the roof of a closed tire shop in the middle of the afternoon. Hey, stranger things had definitely happened in my life.


    But no, it was Pack. She had the cage with her lizards in it strapped onto herself like a backpack as she climbed the rest of the way up, huffing a bit before shrugging it off and setting the cage down. Only then did she look at me. ¡°You¡¯re lucky¡­ your school¡­ gets out early.¡± The girl panted in between every couple words. ¡°And you¡¯re lucky you¡¯re one of the good guys.¡± Finally, she straightened. ¡°Because that means you can run and jump around all willy nilly through the sky and let everyone see you, no problem. I mean yeah, I¡¯ve got Scatters here.¡± With that, the tiny neon-colored lizard poked her head around from the back of her neck where she was perched. ¡°And she is amazing for getting around. Aren¡¯t you, buddy?¡± Pack raised a gloved hand and let the little lizard crawl into her palm before nodding to her own question. ¡°Yes, super-amazing. Seriously, you think your way of getting around is fun? You should try riding a lizard-deer that can jump thirty feet and stick to the walls. It¡¯s¡­ exciting.¡±


    Sobering after taking a moment to let me picture that, the girl pointedly added, ¡°But, I couldn¡¯t exactly ride her all the way here. You know, laying low and all. So I had to hoof it about four blocks, with my friends here. All of which is to say, why exactly am I here, Paintball? You said a little bit last night, but let¡¯s go with details this time, huh?¡±


    So, over the next few minutes, I did just that. I went into detail about everything I knew as far as the new Paige situation went. I told her about Wren¡¯s proposed virtual reality rescue mission, and how that was supposed to go. Actually, I had little to no details there, because we all had no idea how it was going to go. All we knew was that it would make us feel like we were inside Paige¡¯s computer system, in her brain, whatever that would look like. And I told Pack about Peyton going in with us. Or rather, about Alloy going in.


    By the time I finished getting all that out, Pack had released the rest of her lizards to crawl all around the roof so they could explore. Meanwhile, the girl herself was staring at me. Yeah, her mask covered her entire expression. But I could tell she was staring.


    ¡°You seriously don¡¯t ever take a break, do you?¡± she managed in a soft mutter before sighing. ¡°And you already picked up a sidekick. I heard about that, but I was half-convinced they were making it up.¡± For a moment, it looked like she was going to go on about that, before focusing. ¡°Well, I guess we¡¯re going in this robo-chick¡¯s brain, huh?¡±


    Letting out the breath that I hadn¡¯t even realized I was holding, I managed a smile that the other girl wouldn¡¯t see. ¡°So, you¡¯re in? You¡¯ll help with this?¡± Damn it, I sounded like a little kid. Wait, was that a good thing? It helped my cover and all that, right? So why should I care that it¨Cnever mind, I wasn¡¯t going to think about that. Too many other problems.


    Pack was nodding even as I shook all that off. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m in. Like hell am I gonna let our best non-Mall-related chance of finding out more about this whole Ministry thing disappear just because her psycho Daddy hit control alt delete or whatever. But seriously, you think the two of u¡ªsorry, the three of us can deal with whatever this virus thing is?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to. I don¡¯t know about you, but I don¡¯t have an army I can call in to help. And I¡¯m pretty sure Wren can¡¯t make that many virtual reality links.¡±


    Pack was looking at me again, making a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat before simply asking, ¡°What about Way? She knows what¡¯s going on. I mean yeah, she doesn¡¯t know exactly where the kid¡¯s place is or anything, but she¡¯s still involved in this. And you¡¯ve trusted her with other things. If Wren says it¡¯s okay, I think you should see if Minority girl wants to jump in.¡±


    Jeez, maybe I really was just super-accustomed to keeping secrets and compartmentalizing. I hadn¡¯t really thought about asking That-A-Way. Still, even as Pack suggested it, a dozen thoughts of what could go wrong went running through my head. Maybe I was also a little bit paranoid. Forcing those thoughts aside with more than a little effort, I finally gave a short nod. ¡°We can ask Wren. Then¡­ well, it¡¯s up to her. But if she¡¯s okay with it, and if she has an extra slot, we can see if That-A-Way wants to go play Tron tonight.¡± Pausing, I added, ¡°Does that sound as weird out of my head as it did inside?¡±


    ¡°Weirder,¡± Pack assured me. ¡°But yeah, if we¡¯re doing this, let¡¯s do it right. We¡¯ll go see Wren, find out what the deal is, and try to call in the Minority Babe if she doesn¡¯t already have a date with some other Touched stuff tonight.¡±


    Curiously, I tilted my head. ¡°You sound jealous about that possibility.¡±


    Yeah, Pack definitely shot me a dirty look at that. I could tell even through her total-face covering mask. ¡°Let¡¯s just do this before something more interesting comes along to distract me, huh?¡±


    ¡°Well hey,¡± I started while moving toward the edge of the roof to head down, ¡°if you¡¯re looking for something interesting and this isn¡¯t enough, I should tell you what Alloy and me are supposed to be doing for Deicide.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s a real doozy.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 10

    The following is the 20th edition of Patreon Snippets. Each month, every Patreon </a>supporter who donates at least ten dollars per month is able to request at least five hundred words toward any subject they would like to see written about (within reason), join their idea to others to make it longer, or hold it for future installments. Thanks go to them, as well as to all supporters, and to all readers.


    Murphy and Roald


    ¡°What do you think she¡¯s like?¡± Roald asked Murphy as the two of them trotted up the last short distance to the pawn shop that Paintball had directed them to before taking off to deal with those Easy Eight people. ¡°I mean, if she¡¯s working with Paintball, she must be pretty cool, right?¡±


    Shrugging, Murphy looked up at the sign above the door as they approached. ¡°Wren¡¯s Nest. Looks like this is the place. So I guess we¡¯re about to find out if she¡¯s cool, or just some boring old rich chick who likes to build things.¡± She made a face then as a shudder ran through her. The two moved away from the front door to head around the back the way Paintball had said they should. ¡°God, I hope she doesn¡¯t smell funny. I¡¯m not sure how much I can work for some old chick if she smells funny.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a real job,¡± Roald reminded her. ¡°Paintball, he¡­ he gave us a chance. He¡¯s giving us a chance. C¡¯mon, Murph. We can work for someone who smells funny, just get that chapstick stuff that smells really good and put it under your nose. Just remember, we¡¯re not working for some smelly old woman, we¡¯re working for a superhero.¡± Belatedly, he added, ¡°Um, and don¡¯t tell her she smells funny, okay? Even if she does. Cuz¨C¡±


    ¡°That was one time, Roo!¡± Murphy shot back, holding up a finger. ¡°One time. And that woman smelled like she walked through the perfume aisle at the store and dumped every single bottle they had on herself. There was a little girl on that bus who was crying because of that smell. She couldn¡¯t breathe. Nobody could breathe. That woman was a danger to everyone. I¡¯m pretty sure the driver was practically blind from the fumes! I did everyone a favor.¡±


    Snorting, Roald nodded slowly before pointing out, ¡°Sure, right. It was bad. I¡¯m just pretty sure there was a better way to handle it than dumping your water bottle out over her and asking if she was aware that chemical weapons are a war crime.¡±


    With an audible snicker, Murphy lifted her chin. ¡°Hey, it got the point across, didn¡¯t it? She got off the bus at the next stop. And I¡¯m pretty sure she took it easy on the perfume after that. I really did a service to everyone she ever meets in the future. Sometimes you have to go with the direct approach. Tough love.¡± As she said that, they had reached the back door, and the girl put a hand out to ring the buzzer there.


    ¡°Yeah, well,¡± Roald replied, ¡°at least you don¡¯t have a water bottle this time.¡±


    Spinning on him at that, Murphy pointed. ¡°That¡¯s why you wouldn¡¯t let me stop to get a drink, you¨C¡±


    She was interrupted then, as the door abruptly swung open to reveal a six-foot tall, roughly fifty-year-old man with dark slicked back hair and a pronounced potbelly that was at odds with the rest of his quite thin body. ¡°You know, if you kids are trying to play Ding Dong Ditch, you forgot the ditch part.¡± When he spoke, the two could smell cigarettes.


    ¡°Oh God,¡± Murphy managed, ¡°are you Wren? I swear, he said she, right?¡± She looked to Roald.


    Squinting at them, the man grunted after a second. ¡°Hold up, you¡¯re those kids Paintball was gonna bring over.¡± He leaned out the doorway then, looking both ways before turning his attention back to them. ¡°So, where is he?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ he had to go fight some bad guys,¡± Roald hesitantly replied. ¡°Easy Eights, they were driving by in a truck and um, and it looked like something bad was about to happen. So he sent us here, uhh, Mr. Wren, sir.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± the man blinked that way, then laughed. ¡°Hell naw. Name¡¯s Fred, not Wren. C¡¯mon, I¡¯ll introduce you.¡± He stepped back then, holding the door as he waited for them to enter.


    For a brief moment, the two teenagers looked at one another, silently communicating. Finally, they shrugged and stepped in before looking around. Murphy gave a low whistle. ¡°Wow. This place looks awesome. Look at all the shit you¡¯ve got around here. Holy crap, is that a real record player? Like, that thing¡¯s real and not just some fake with an MP3 player built into it or something, right?¡± She was already moving that way to squint at the thing on the shelf.


    ¡°Uh huh!¡± A new voice piped up from right in front of Murphy, as a small blonde girl popped into view from where she had been bent down behind the shelf. She had an armful of random objects that she¡¯d clearly just picked up.


    Murphy, of course, yelped and stumbled backward while cursing. ¡°Shit, shit, fuck, what, what?¡±


    ¡°Sorry!¡± the younger girl blurted before turning to carefully put the stuff she had collected into a nearby box. ¡°You just sounded really excited about the record player. It¡¯s a Pioneer PL-55X. Classic.¡±


    Roald, who had come up to Murphy¡¯s side, blinked at the kid. ¡°Oh, uhh, hey. That¡¯s cool. So, is this your¡­ mom¡¯s shop? Your grandmother¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± the girl frowned thoughtfully. ¡°It was my dad¡¯s, but¡­ but my parents died.¡± She went quiet then, before shaking off those feelings. ¡°Now it¡¯s mine.¡±


    ¡°Yours?¡± Murphy managed a bit weakly, as the truth began to dawn on both of them.


    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m dumb. Sorry, hi.¡± With that, the younger girl extended her hand with a bright smile. ¡°I¡¯m Wren!¡±


    That, of course, left the two teenagers staring at her, then at each other, then back at her again. Roald was the first to find his voice. ¡°Wren the¡­ second, right? You live here with your¡­ grandmother and¡­¡± He looked back to Fred. ¡°And him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Uncle Fred,¡± Wren informed them. ¡°And nope, it¡¯s just us. Me and Uncle Fred. We help Paintball! And now you get to help us help Paintball. Isn¡¯t that great?¡±


    In a dull, flat voice, Murphy agreed, ¡°Totally fantastic. He just uhh, he didn¡¯t exactly mention that¡­¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t tell them you were a kid,¡± Fred grunted from where he was standing by the door. The man sounded amused by the whole situation. ¡°Probably wanted to see their faces or something. His loss.¡±


    ¡°So¨Cso wait, wait.¡± Murphy was clearly still reeling from the whole thing. ¡°This is real? Like, really real? It¡¯s not a joke? You¨Cyou¡¯re the Tech-Touched Paintball wants us to help around this place?¡±


    Scrunching up her face a bit, Wren hesitantly asked, ¡°Is¡­ is something wrong?¡±


    Once more, the two teenagers exchanged looks before turning back to her. Roald shook his head. ¡°You know what? Nope. Nothing¡¯s wrong. We¡¯re good. You¡¯re like, this really cool Tech-Touched, right? You can really build things?¡±


    ¡°Can we see some of it?¡± Murphy put in then, her eagerness totally eclipsing the uncertainty she felt about apparently working for a child.


    The worried, uncertain look on Wren¡¯s face faded quickly, and she brightened. ¡°Sure! C¡¯mon, I¡¯ve got some really great stuff.


    ¡°If you think the record player¡¯s cool, wait till you see the machine that makes people really, really slow. Or the teleporter, or¨C¡± Abruptly, she hit something on her sleeve, and a pair of dragonfly-like wings sprang out, as she lifted off the ground. ¡°Or these!¡±


    ¡°You know what, Roald?¡± Murphy managed, staring up at the hovering, giggling girl, ¡°I don¡¯t care if she¡¯s a kid, a toddler, or an old lady. Even one that smelled.


    ¡°This is gonna be an awesome job.¡±


    ********


    Peyton


    ¡°Hey, Mom. Yeah, I¡¯m good. What¡¯s up with you? What? Whaaaat? Are you serious? Fell-Touched? Like, real bad guys? What? No, no, I wasn¡¯t there. Nope, I was at McDonalds. I was walking home. I was at the bus stop. I was grabbing a sandwich from the store. I was behind the mall buying a bagful of drugs to sell at school. You should see the profit margin on that shit.¡±


    As she walked across the back parking lot behind the apartment building where she lived, Peyton Favors slowed, grimacing. ¡°Yeah, probably not that last one.¡± Opening her cupped hands where the assortment of colored marbles quivered and pulsed excitedly, she asked, ¡°What do you guys think? Which excuse is Mom gonna buy?¡±


    The marbles floated up off her hand, spinning around in circles rapidly before bouncing off each other. Which wasn¡¯t exactly helpful for making up the right thing to say, even if it was cute. Plus, they were going to attract attention. So Peyton quickly pulled them back and pushed the marbles into her pockets. ¡°Just be quiet for a little bit, okay? I can¡¯t explain you to Mom. She just¡­ she wouldn¡¯t understand. She wouldn¡¯t understand any of this.¡± Muttering that last bit to herself, the girl took a deep breath and then jogged across the parking lot. ¡°Time to face the music.¡±


    She still hadn¡¯t settled on exactly which excuse to use by the time she had gone in the back entrance and used the elevator to reach the ninth floor, where the apartment she and her mother lived in actually was. There, she headed down the hall, and was just about to use her key to unlock the apartment itself when the door suddenly swung open.


    Automatically, Peyton began to launch into her recited speech. ¡°Hey, Mom. Yeah, I¡¯m good. What¨C¡±


    If her mother noticed that the girl had accidentally started responding to questions she hadn¡¯t even been asked yet, she didn¡¯t show it at all. Instead, the short, red-haired (just like her daughter) and almost abnormally skinny woman grabbed Peyton by both arms and pulled her into the living room, then hugged her so tight the girl thought she might¡¯ve cracked a rib. ¡°Oh my God, you¡¯re home! I was just talking to the police, they told me you weren¡¯t one of the hostages down there and I told them how fucking incompetent they were and¨C¡±


    ¡°Mom! Mom, what¨C¡± Taking a deep breath to prepare herself for what was coming while her mother was holding her so tight, Peyton managed to extricate herself. ¡°What are you talking about? You called the cops because I was a little late? What hostages? What? Mom, what happened? What did you say to them?¡± She did her best to look completely baffled and lost about the whole situation, hoping her mother wouldn¡¯t see through it.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Then she met her mother¡¯s frantic gaze and had to suppress the urge to react. Oh boy, this was hard. It wasn¡¯t like Peyton enjoyed lying to her mother. As much as she might have bristled against the woman¡¯s overprotectiveness lately, she really did love her. Seriously, it had been the two of them basically on their own for as long as she could remember. Lying to her mother right now was hard. But she knew what would happen if she didn¡¯t. Her mom would overreact. She would try to stop her from doing anything dangerous. After Peyton¡¯s dad left, they just¡­ she kind of lost her mind at the thought of losing her daughter too.


    Peyton understood that. She really, truly did. But she couldn¡¯t let that stop her. She had these marbles, these powers, for a reason. She had to use them to help people. Someday, she would be able to explain it to her mother, once she proved that she was a real hero. She would establish herself¨Cher Touched self, as a bonafide, genuine hero. Then she would show her mother who she really was. Once her mother saw what she could do, how she could help people¡­ maybe she would understand?


    Pushing all those thoughts down, she focused on looking as confused as possible while her mother went on about the attack at the shopping center. Through it all, Peyton continued to insist that she hadn¡¯t been there, that she went earlier but had been gone by the time any of that went on. She claimed she was eating with a few people from school that she¡¯d run into. Thankfully, any doubts her mother might¡¯ve had were forced to contend with the fact that Peyton was right there in front of her and that the cops had told her she wasn¡¯t with the group of hostages.


    Of course, Peyton had to explain why she hadn¡¯t answered any calls or texts from her mother. Thankfully, she had an excuse ready for that. Namely, her phone was dead. Mostly thanks to the special app she had downloaded and run to make sure it had been completely drained by the time she got home, but still.


    Finally convinced that her daughter was fine after all, and had never been in any actual danger, Suzanne Favors gave a long sigh before looking over to her own phone. ¡°Okay, I guess I¡¯ve got a police lieutenant to apologize to. Let me get that done and then I¡¯ll make you some¨Coh, you¡¯re not hungry.¡±


    Peyton started to object that she was starving, only to catch herself. Fuck. She¡¯d said that she was eating with those people from school. Right, damn it. She was going to have to grab some food later. Eating now would just make her mother suspicious again. ¡°Yeah,¡± she murmured, ¡°couldn¡¯t eat another bite. I uhh, I¡¯m gonna go to my room.¡±


    Her mom hugged her once more with a sigh of relief, before Peyton headed off with a sigh of her own. But hers was not one of relief. She heard her mother starting to apologize on the phone, hesitating before looking over her shoulder to see the woman standing with her back to her. For a moment, Peyton just stood there, staring for a moment while listening to that. Her voice, when she spoke, was a barely audible whisper. ¡°Sorry, Mom.¡±


    Yeah, it was probably a good thing she wasn¡¯t trying to eat anything right now.


    She probably wouldn¡¯t be able to keep it down anyway.


    **********


    Cavalcade


    Technically, the woman who drove her Range Rover through the gates of the storage facility somewhere in the middle of Detroit, a mile or so away from downtown, was known to the world at large as Cavalcade. But no one would have recognized her now. Her hair in that public identity as a Sell-Touched was long, flowing, and black. The woman who was parking her vehicle near the building that served as the main office had short blonde hair styled in a pixie cut. She also wore thick-rimmed glasses. And yes, she was aware that she was leaning into that trope, but the truth was she actually needed them. The goggles she wore in costume weren¡¯t just for show, after all. They had prescription lenses.


    In addition to the different hair and the glasses, she wore a pair of slightly loose jeans and a somewhat too-large shirt and jacket that helped to play down and conceal rather than emphasize her voluptuous figure. The opposite of her Touched-Self¡¯s red bodysuit.


    No, it was quite clear from both a glance and further inspection that this woman and the mercenary known as Cavalcade were very different. By design, of course. Being someone who worked for the highest bidder on either side of the legal line tended to also make you enemies on both sides of that line. Even when you lived by your own code, kept things professional, and refused to either rat out criminals who employed you or work with total psychopaths like the Scions, there were still those who would love to make life hell for a poor mercenary who was just trying to get along.


    Okay, ¡®poor¡¯ was a very bad descriptor for her in almost every way. But still.


    Stepping out of the Range Rover before crossing the short distance to the main office on a pair of simple, functional tennis shoes, the much-less outrageous and attention-getting woman tugged open the door before poking her head in. ¡°Morning!¡± she called toward the desk that took up about half of the room in this small office.


    ¡°Miss Mclean?¡± the dark-haired young woman, practically a kid really (she was still in college, after all) rose from the seat. ¡°Is everything okay?¡±


    Brianna Mclean. That was what people (generally) knew her as whenever she wasn¡¯t being Cavalcade. It wasn¡¯t the name she had been born with, of course. She¡¯d left that behind at least two identities ago. But Brianna Mclean worked.


    ¡°Oh, absotively!¡± Brianna confirmed with a smile, still standing in the doorway. ¡°I just wanted to let you know I got your request for next week off, and you go right ahead. We¡¯ll get people to cover your shifts, you focus on studying for that test, Jessie.¡±


    Brightening, Jessie thanked her, and Brianna gave the girl a quick thumbs up before stepping out again. There, she had done her job as the owner of this place. Time for a little fun.


    She left her vehicle where it was. It wouldn¡¯t surprise anyone, since her apartment was actually connected to the lot itself. She often left her vehicle at random places on the property.


    However, rather than walk toward that small building, barely a stone¡¯s throw away from the door into the main office, Brianna turned the opposite way and began to stroll through the parking lot, past dozens of storage sheds where random people kept their random junk.


    Walking to a specific storage unit, Brianna hummed to herself while reaching out to open the nearby keypad. Thumbing in the code, she waited until it gave a confirming beep, then looked straight at the tiny lens on top, waiting for it to scan her face. As it did, there was one more beep, followed by a ding. The ding was from the woman¡¯s phone in her pocket, where she would have just gotten an alert that the door had been accessed. Even if someone managed to copy her face and get her code (and know to come here in the first place), she would get the alert that they were there.


    Taking the phone from her pocket, Brianna entered the six digit code there that would prevent the place she was about to enter from engaging security measures. Then she reached down, hauled the door up, stepped inside, and let the door roll back down behind her.


    The storage room looked like any other, on the surface. There were boxes stacked up that had various clothes and books, a pair of skis, a rundown chair, and some paintings in the corner that weren¡¯t worth more than twenty to thirty bucks a piece. Walking around all that, Brianna moved to the back corner of the room. Taking her phone out, she pressed a button, and, with a low grinding noise, a small section of the floor there slid away to reveal a set of stairs leading down.


    She descended, letting the hidden trapdoor slide shut behind her before continuing on to emerge into what turned out to be an enormous penthouse condo that took up a large portion of the underground area beneath the storage facility lot. The place would have been right at home functioning as the imperial suite in a five star hotel.


    This was Brianna¡¯s real home. She spent enough time in her supposed apartment at the edge of the lot to make it look as though she lived there, and it was where her official residence was. But this was where her money went. This was where she relaxed. She had everything she needed here, far from prying eyes and legal entanglements.


    With a smile, the woman glanced around the luxurious living room that her hidden tunnel opened up into. Her gaze passed over the ¡®windows¡¯ along the opposite wall, which were actually video screens showing a view of the skyline over Tokyo at the moment.


    ¡°Lana,¡± she addressed her personal assistant computer. ¡°Dim the lights to half, run a hot bath in the master whirlpool, and put last night¡¯s Pistons game on the screen in there, starting from the second quarter when I had to leave.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Brianna,¡± came the soft response.


    As the lights dimmed and she heard the distant sound of basketball and running water, Brianna sighed in appreciation. Then she walked that way, stripping down as she went.


    Even the Evans couldn¡¯t have it much better than this.


    *********


    The following takes place a short time in the future from the current regular chapters


    Right, I couldn¡¯t avoid it anymore without drawing attention. Even though I was still dealing with everything that happened (and was still happening) with Paige, there was something important I had to do. Okay, there are a lot of things I had to do, but this one jumped to the top of the list. I had to go to court. Well, I had to go to the courthouse and give my depositions for everything official that had happened since I started this whole Star-Touched thing. Every bad guy that got arrested because of me, every official police case I had any involvement in, all of that.


    First, I¡¯d gone through that same unremarkable building a block away from the courthouse That-A-Way had directed me to so I could turn in those papers about holding Ashton prisoner before. I¡¯d even been escorted through to the tunnel that led to the courthouse itself by my old pal, Officer Metts.


    And now, here I was, sitting in one of the so-called deposition rooms. As Flea had promised, the room consisted of a long table. The judge sat at one end, the court stenographer at the other end. I sat in the middle on one side, while a couple empty chairs sat opposite me, and one just a little bit down from where I was sitting.


    The judge, an old, entirely bald black man with the last name of Pamure, gently asked, ¡°Do you know how this is supposed to work?¡±


    Swallowing back the nerves that I felt, I nodded. ¡°Those folders next to you are all the cases that I have something to do with. You¡¯ll go through each case one at a time, call in the lawyers for both sides. The defendant lawyer sits over there, the prosecuting attorney sits over here on this side. They each get to ask questions about everything in the case, just like they would in court. The stuff I say gets recorded by her, and by that.¡± I nodded toward the stenographer, then to the camera up in the corner of the room. ¡°We do that for every case, then move on.¡±


    Judge Pamure confirmed, ¡°Yes, pretty much. We also like to move these things along as quickly as possible, because there¡¯s a lot to go through every month. You, it¡¯s been more than a month, but we let newbies slide a little bit. Not like the system doesn¡¯t have enough to deal with anyway.¡± He cleared his throat then. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s the gist. You don¡¯t have to answer any questions about your identity, your personal life, anything you feel uncomfortable with. We¡¯ll zip through the questions from both sides, you just tell the truth about what happened¨Cyou¡¯ll be sworn in before we start, and we¡¯ll all get out of here. Okay, you¡¯ll get out of here. I¡¯ll move to the next Touched in line. So, you ready?¡±


    After I confirmed that I was, the judge had the first pair of lawyers brought in by the bailiff¨Cwho happened to be the same man who subsequently had me put my hand on a copy of the state constitution and swear to tell the truth. I did, of course, and everyone settled in for the first set of questions, from the prosecuting attorney.


    Ashton. This was all about Ashton. I should¡¯ve figured they¡¯d start with this one. Bit by bit, question by question, I established everything safe for them to know about what had happened, why we held him prisoner for a short time, what we¡¯d done to get back the vials that he had stolen and why, and so on.


    Ashton¡¯s lawyer, of course, had her own questions. But honestly, she didn¡¯t seem all that invested. Oh, she did her job. She pushed back on a few things I said, just enough for the judge to calmly tell her to back off at least once. But she didn¡¯t really seem completely devoted. Probably because she was a public defender. She did her job well enough to be counted, but Ashton wasn¡¯t an important case to her. He was just a number. I also had the feeling that some of those questions had come from Ashton himself, thinking he was going to trip me up. A few I saw her cross off with a pen without even reading them. So those ones must¡¯ve been real doozies.


    Eventually, it was done. Both lawyers said they had no more questions. But instead of leaving, they both shuffled some papers around, and suddenly we were talking about a different case, a random mugging I¡¯d stopped weeks back. It took me a bit by surprise before I recovered. Right, of course the same lawyers would work different cases. They were going to run through every case that involved the same attorney(s) while they were already here.


    Yeah, this was going to take awhile. But at least I only had to do it once a month. So, I pushed my thoughts away from worrying about that whole¡­ Paige thing and focused on answering questions.


    If nothing else, trying to answer all these questions without saying the wrong thing was a pretty good distraction from everything else going on in my life.

 In Like Flynn 17-02

    So yeah, Pack obviously had a lot of things to say about the whole thing with this Amanda girl. Mostly centered around how many ways it could either be a trap or backfire on us. She went on about how stupid it would be to intentionally piss off Pencil and make myself and my new friend an even bigger target for him then we were now. I had made him angry already, first by screwing up his plan at the Children¡¯s Hospital so that he didn¡¯t do nearly as much damage as he meant to, and then by escaping up at the cabin. Not to mention the fact that I had actually hurt Cup. Yeah, obviously he didn¡¯t need an excuse to target me. And yet, here I was, about to poke my nose into his business again. Pack had more than a few loud opinions on that idea.


    In the end, all I could say was that at least we weren¡¯t actually going anywhere near the man himself. And, I pointed out that someone had to put a stop to him. The longer he went on being able to torture and kill people, the longer his list of innocent victims would get. Even if I didn¡¯t have a chance in hell of confronting him directly and winning, the least I could do was contribute to bringing him down by finding Amanda Sanvers and trying to convince her to tell Deicide about any actual weaknesses Pencil might have so that she could actually do something about it.


    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid. I know it¡¯s dangerous. But he has to be stopped. And I do owe Deicide for that vial. The vial that saved your boss¡¯s daughter. She came through with it and asked for a favor. She could have asked for a much harder favor than this. Okay, maybe this isn¡¯t exactly easy, but it¡¯s not bad or wrong. I don¡¯t have a moral issue with stopping Pencil and the Scions. This might be hard and dangerous, but it¡¯s still a good thing to do. And I¡¯m going to do it. Or try, at least.¡±


    Through all of that, I could tell Pack was staring at me intently. She seemed to be weighing something back and forth in her head for a silent moment before giving a long, audible sigh. ¡°Right, fine. But don¡¯t go digging too far into finding this chick without me, got it?¡± When I started to object, she interrupted. ¡°No, you¡¯re right. You got into this favor to help save the boss¡¯s kid. You saved her life, and now Deicide wants you to pay that back by possibly pissing off that psycho? You¡¯re not doing that alone. Or even with some girl who¡¯s had her powers for like half an hour. I¡¯m not saying I¡¯ll fight that son of a bitch, I¡¯m not stupid either. But me and my buddies here can help everyone get away if shit goes south. If you¡¯re doing this, I¡¯m gonna be there to make sure you don¡¯t go too far with it. Fuck, I owe you that much for the vial thing. Plus, you know¡­¡± She trailed off, kicking the roof with her foot before muttering, ¡°I don¡¯t exactly hate you. And the list of people like that isn¡¯t long, so I¡¯d rather not have to deal with that fucking freak getting his hands on you. Not to mention how Way would react if she found out I just let you¡­ yeah. So, that¡¯s it. If you¡¯re doing this, I¡¯m going with you. No arguing about it, capisce?¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I gave a short nod. Behind the helmet, I was smiling a bit. ¡°So, my takeaway from all that is that you like me. You really like me!¡±


    A low growl escaped the girl. ¡°Don¡¯t make me change my mind, kid. This still all seems pretty stupid. But if you insist, I¡¯m gonna make sure you don¡¯t go too stupid with it.¡±


    ¡°Not going too stupid, got it.¡± Giving her a thumbs up, I added, ¡°But hey, at least we don¡¯t have to worry about that for a while. I mean, that¡¯s the problem behind door number two. We¡¯ve got a whole other problem behind door number one we have to deal with first. Isn¡¯t that great?¡±


    Pack didn¡¯t sound incredibly enthused, for some reason. ¡°You know the whole ¡®door number one or door number two¡¯ bit is supposed to imply you pick one or the other? It¡¯s supposed to be a choice, not a thing where you dive headfirst into both of them whenever you want.¡±


    ¡°Meh.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I always was a little selfish. Gotta have all the doors for myself. But hey, you¡¯ll be there too.¡± I adopted a teasing tone once more. ¡°Because you liiiiiike me. Because we¡¯re super-good friends and you won¡¯t let anything happen to me. Because we¨C¡±


    She shut me up with a kick to the shin that made me yelp, then pointedly replied, ¡°So, are we gonna find out if Wren¡¯s got another slot we can slide Way into before we call her in, or what?¡±


    Giving her a thumbs up while using my other hand to rub my leg, I nodded. ¡°Sure, sure. Let¡¯s head over there and see what she can do. The more friends we can pull into this whole Tron adventure, the merrier.¡± Grimacing then, I added, ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying that with a straight face. This is all super-weird, right?¡±


    Snorting at me, Pack plucked Riddles off her shoulder where the bearded dragon had crawled. ¡°Yeah, definitely super-weird. But you know, that¡¯s pretty much par for the course as far as you¡¯re concerned, isn¡¯t it? I mean, it¡¯s not like you ever do anything the normal way.¡±


    Opening my mouth to argue, I ended up hesitating before coughing. ¡°Okay, fair. I guess I really don¡¯t. But whatever, come on, let¡¯s go talk to our kid-genius inventor friend about letting the Minority superhero chick we¡¯re both friends with come along on the trip to go into the cyborg-girl¡¯s brain so we can save her from the evil duplicate virus her supervillain psycho father installed before she gets erased.¡±


    So, the two of us collected the lizards, put them back in the backpack-cage thing, then headed down and made our way through the maze of back alleys toward Wren¡¯s shop. We passed a confused homeless guy on the way as he poked his head up from his sleeping bag next to a dumpster, and I gave him a twenty dollar bill before heading on. Pack watched me do that, seemed to consider for a moment, then sighed and passed him a twenty as well before whispering something in his ear.


    ¡°What¡¯d you say to that guy?¡± I asked once we had moved out of the man¡¯s earshot.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Pack glanced toward me, then looked over her shoulder that way. ¡°Oh, I just told him if he wants an easy lookout job that pays really well, he should call the number on the money I gave him. Blackjack¡¯s always looking to recruit the unfortunate. Even if they don¡¯t have any powers or skills, you¡¯d be surprised how much information they can get for you. Plus, like I said, they can play lookouts really well. No one pays attention to them. Get enough on your side, and you have a whole spy network working for you. Just takes a little cash here and there. Which is something Blackjack has to spare.¡±


    My mouth opened and shut a couple times before I sighed. ¡°You know, I genuinely have no idea how I¡¯m supposed to feel about that. At least he¡¯s giving them money, I guess?¡±


    ¡°Money they¡¯re earning,¡± Pack clarified pointedly with a raised finger. ¡°That¡¯s the big part. Plus, some of them do enough to get promoted into the actual gang instead of just being street-eyes. All depends on how much work they do, and how good they are at it. There¡¯s actually a decent amount of ex-military types on the streets.¡±


    I was still processing that as we made our way up to the back door of the shop and rang the bell. There was about a twenty second pause before the door was pulled open by Fred, who looked a little distracted and disheveled. ¡°Come in, then. You can help carry some shit upstairs.¡± With that, he gestured to two milk crates on the floor that had random bits of equipment piled up in them. It looked like he had been pulling pieces off the shelves and shoving them in there.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡± I asked while stepping in and moving to pick up one of the crates. Beside me, Pack did the same while the lizards chirped and squeaked from the backpack.


    Fred was taking a long drink from a bottle of water before wiping off his forehead. ¡°Yeah. I mean as good as it can be. Just busy. Wren¡¯s been working all day on getting this VR thing up and running, and it¡¯s¡­ look, she¡¯s working really hard, so take it easy on the kid, okay?¡±


    My head bobbed quickly, and I started to ask if she was okay, but Pack beat me to it. ¡°How¡¯s she doing with all this? Gotta be a lot of pressure on the girl, even for someone with a techy brain that big. You made her get some sleep last night, right?¡± There was a firm tone to her voice that reminded me just how much Pack cared about Wren too, after the time they¡¯d spent together. She definitely didn¡¯t like the idea of the kid stressing herself out over this whole thing. Which was fair, even if I was worried about what was going on with Paige. I was worried about Wren too. The kid was taking a lot onto her plate, with trying to put her dad¡¯s store back in business, designing things we could actually build and sell, upgrading my equipment, and trying to help with the Paige situation. She¡¯d even apparently gone as far as building that whole communication thing just to check on Paige herself, found out there was something wrong, and reached out to her Tech-Touched friend in France to find a solution she could jury-rig. It was a lot for anybody, let alone a nine-year-old who should be focusing on having fun. Part of me wished I could just tell the kid to forget about the whole thing and focus on her shop. But, of course, I couldn¡¯t do that because it would mean hanging Paige out to dry.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Fred had already nodded by the time I worked through all that in my head. ¡°You¡¯re damn right I made the kid go to sleep. Wasn¡¯t easy either, she was bound and determined to work through the night, but I nipped that in the bud. So yeah, she slept, otherwise she wouldn¡¯t be conscious right now. But she¡¯s still working her butt off on this whole thing, so take it easy with anything you ask about, got it?¡± His gaze moved back and forth between the two of us.


    Pack and I exchanged glances before nodding. That time, I found my voice first. ¡°Yeah, we do¡­ we do need to ask her about something as far as this VR thing goes, but we¡¯ll take it easy. Trust me, Fred, we don¡¯t wanna pile anything else onto her. She¡¯s done enough with all this.¡±


    His gaze seemed to bore straight into and even through me. ¡°So you¡¯re not about to ask her to try to fix that orb thing anyway, even after everything she said about not being able to do it?¡±


    Okay, that one definitely took me by surprise. Giving a double-take despite myself, I couldn¡¯t find my voice for a second. ¡°Wha¨Cno! No, I swear, that¡¯s not why we¡¯re here. I mean, she said she couldn¡¯t do it, that¡¯s¨CI get it. Trust me, Fred, we are not about to try to talk her into working on the orb. I know it¡¯s more than she can handle. I didn¡¯t¨C¡± Oh. He thought I¡¯d brought Pack for backup in talking the poor kid into taking on that job too. No wonder he was making a point of talking to us like this, especially after Wren had outright refused to work on Paige the first time. And now he thought we were here to pressure her into taking it up, just because it was an emergency and¨Coh. Now I definitely understood what his whole deal was.


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Pack put in, clearly having gone through the same thought process. ¡°We¡¯re not here to talk the kid into doing stuff she already said she couldn¡¯t do. We just think we might need more help if we¡¯re going into this¡­ computer world thing, so we were wondering if she could make enough links or helmets or whatever it is for us to bring That-A-Way over.¡±


    Quickly, I added, ¡°And, you know, ask if she¡¯s cool with That-A-Way knowing where the shop is and all that. I mean, she knows a good bit already. Some of it anyway. But it¡¯s a pretty big step to have Way over here. Especially since she always knows what direction she¡¯s facing, so putting a bag over her head to drive her to the shop wouldn¡¯t really do that much. She¡¯d probably still be able to figure out where we were going and all that.¡±


    Without missing a beat, Fred pointed out, ¡°We could teleport her directly here, you know. Her knowing what direction she¡¯s facing wouldn¡¯t tell her the exact location if she was teleported in from somewhere else, right? It¡¯d just take time to calibrate for her and all, as the kid would say.¡±


    Oh, right. Pausing to consider that, I slowly nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll ask Wren what she wants to do. Either way, having masks around for you or anyone who wants one would probably be a good idea, just to, you know, be on the safe side.¡±


    Fred looked like he was going to say something to that, before shaking it off. ¡°Right, yeah. Well, if that¡¯s what you need, go ahead and carry those crates up to the kid. And let me know if I need to start calibrating that teleport marker. Kid made me learn how to do it in case there was an emergency or whatever, and God knows she¡¯s got enough to work on today as it is.¡±


    Yeah, Fred had definitely changed since I first met him. Or had he? His whole thing when he had gone against Wren¡¯s rules and made the deal with Ashton had been to get money to take care of her and to pay the bills for her parents¡¯ hospital and funeral stuff. Yeah, he¡¯d definitely done something bad, but he hadn¡¯t known how bad at the time. He had just wanted better for himself and his niece, and that wasn¡¯t exactly the worst crime in the world. And now he was still trying to take care of her, just without going too far. He¡¯d learned from his mistake, but he was still the same guy, for the most part.


    ¡°You okay over there?¡± Pack asked as the two of us walked to the stairs with the crates.


    Heading up first, I nodded quickly. ¡°Yeah, sorry. Just been thinking a lot. You know, about everything. It¡¯s just¨C¡± I sighed. ¡°There¡¯s a lot going on.¡±


    Snorting, Pack nodded while starting up after me. She had left the bag with her lizards inside on one of the counters downstairs with strict orders for them to stay put, eat their food, and relax. Aside from Twinkletoes, who was perched on her shoulder, curiously watching everything. ¡°A lot going on, right. And yet, here you are, taking on more responsibility day after day after day.¡±


    Wincing, I shook my head. ¡°Hey, I told you, it¡¯s not my fault. I owed Deicide for the¨Cyeah.¡±


    ¡°I know, I get it,¡± she muttered, reaching up to scratch under Twinkletoes¡¯s chin affectionately. The way she brought him with just as we were going up the stairs, I had the feeling Pack didn¡¯t like to go anywhere without at least one of them. Which, again, made me curious about how she went to school. Did she go to school, or was it just like some kind of tutoring situation in La Casa? And why did I keep wondering about it? Seriously, it was none of my business. I had no idea why the question kept popping into my head. Like I didn¡¯t already have enough to worry about and focus on?


    By that point, we had reached the top of the stairs and moved through the hallway there to get to the lab where Wren was working on what I swore looked like a large, makeshift MRI machine that was taking up a decent portion of one corner. The kid had the side of the machine open and was lying on one of those little wheeled carts that mechanics use, buried up to her waist in the wire-filled guts of the machine. We could both hear the girl talking to herself, or rather, to the machine. She was mumbling about making the thing work whether it wanted to or not.


    Exchanging a brief look with the girl next to me, I stepped that way. ¡°Uh, hey, Wren. You need any help down there? Got some stuff for you.¡± I shook the crate in my hand a little demonstrably.


    Hearing my voice, the girl slid out, blurting, ¡°Paintball!¡± She saw the other girl then and added a quick, ¡°Pack! And Twinkletoes!¡± Hurriedly, she climbed into her feet, almost slipping on the wheeled cart before managing to catch herself. ¡°Hi! Oh, you can put that stuff right there on the floor, I¡¯ve gotta dig through it and find the right stuff. Do you know if Uncle Fred found the¨C¡± And then she said something so ridiculously technical that she might as well have been speaking in a completely foreign language. Or even an alien language. Hell, for all I knew, she was talking in complete gibberish and that entire sentence was just the girl screwing with us to see if we had any clue what she was going on about. And from the sound that Pack made in the background, I was pretty sure she didn¡¯t have the slightest idea what any of that meant either.


    After a moment, I found my voice. ¡°Uh, sorry he didn¡¯t say anything about that. But it seemed like he found what you sent him for? So maybe it¡¯s in there. If you want some help digging through it¡­¡± Oh, really? Where was I going to go with that, genius? I had no idea what any of what she was asking about looked like, so how exactly was I going to help her find it?


    Thankfully, Wren politely declined, saying she¡¯d look through it later. Then she frowned slightly, looking back and forth between us while holding Twinkletoes (the chameleon had been quickly handed over to her and was quite thoroughly enjoying the attention). Curiously, the girl asked, ¡°You guys aren¡¯t here to do the thing yet, are you? Cuz I¨CI¡¯m really sorry but it¡¯s not ready yet. I¡¯ve been trying and I swear I¡¯ll get it working, but I had to sleep cuz Uncle Fred said I couldn¡¯t¨C¡±


    Quickly, I interrupted. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s okay. We¡¯re not here for that.¡± With that, I explained why we were there, asking how the girl felt about bringing That-A-Way over, how secret she wanted us to make it, and whether she thought there would be a way of bringing one more person into the VR thing. But I made it perfectly clear that if adding someone else was too much to get ready in time, she absolutely shouldn¡¯t worry about it, and that it was just a thought we¡¯d had about getting more help in there.


    Thankfully (because I really thought we were going to need all the help we could get), Wren immediately agreed. According to her, once she had the actual system working, it wouldn¡¯t be too hard to create an additional link-in for it. Especially since she had apparently been planning on making another one ¡®just in case¡¯ anyway. It was intended to be just in case one of the regular link-ins didn¡¯t work properly, but assuming everything did work, there would be an extra one for That-A-Way.


    ¡°And you want us to go the blindfold, teleportation route?¡± Pack put in curiously. ¡°Cuz if so, I think Paintball should do it. Just cuz someone from La Casa putting a bag over a superhero¡¯s head and teleporting them to a secret location kiiiinda has a weird feeling to it.¡±


    Wren, however, shook her head. ¡°Nuh uh, you can bring her here. She¡¯s a superhero! She¡¯s a good guy¨Cerrr, girl. An¡¯ besides, if you guys trust her, I trust her.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°Besides, if bad stuff happens, it¡¯s probably a good idea to have someone like her know where we are, right?¡±


    ¡°Uh, good point,¡± I agreed, giving her a thumbs up before looking over to Pack. ¡°So, what do you say?


    ¡°Shall we go find out if That-A-Way wants to play Tron with us?¡±

 In Like Flynn 17-03

    It wasn¡¯t that hard to convince That-A-Way to come meet us. Apparently, she had to beg off from doing some kind of school project with somebody, but didn¡¯t really mind that much. In fact, going by her texts, the girl almost seemed grateful for the excuse. Especially when I told her I was with Pack and that this was something important that had to be done within the next few hours. Obviously, she had questions, but the girl held them until she got to the tire shop where we had both gone back to wait for her. It was close enough to Wren¡¯s shop for this.


    Patient as she might have been over the phone, Way definitely wanted the whole story as soon as she showed up. Looking back and forth between the two of us as we all stood on that roof, she insisted that we tell her everything that was going on and what kind of emergency this actually was before anything else happened and before she would agree to go anywhere.


    So, I gave her the quick version, explaining what our Tech-Touched friend had found out about Paige¡¯s apparently increasingly desperate situation, and how we were going to try to deal with it to at least buy ourselves time so we wouldn¡¯t end up with the virus duplicate taking over and turning her into Evil Paige. Way made a few noises of confusion and surprise as I went through all the VR stuff, but mostly remained quiet until I was finally done explaining the whole thing.


    Once I was finished, the blonde girl slumped back a bit and seemed to be lost in thought for a few long moments. She was clearly going over all of that in her head before eventually straightening up. ¡°Wow. You really do get into some really crazy stuff, you know that?¡±


    With a cough at her words, I shook my head. ¡°Trust me, you really don¡¯t know the half of it.¡±


    She, of course, gave me a look while flatly pointing out, ¡°And whose fault is that, exactly?¡±


    Shifting uncomfortably, I waved that off. ¡°Anyway, like I said, we¡¯ve got an extra slot for someone to help us go in there and help that girl. If you¡¯re interested. But we have to do it tonight. Like, in a couple hours, so if you¡¯ve got something else you can¡¯t get out of¡­ I mean, it¡¯s short notice.¡±


    Snorting, That-A-Way drawled, ¡°Totally smooth change of subject there, Paintball. How do you do it?¡± That point made, she firmly added, ¡°And yeah, I¡¯m totally in. Absolutely. If you two are going into some kind of Tron world to save Paige from turning into psycho evil crazy Paige, then I¡¯m going too. No way am I letting both of you have that kind of adventure without me.¡±


    Before I could say anything, Pack spoke up first. ¡°Technically, it wouldn¡¯t be the two of us anyway.¡± Her gaze moved over to me as she slyly added, ¡°Not with Paintball¡¯s new sidekick.¡±


    Well, that definitely got Way¡¯s attention. Her gaze snapped from Pack back to me, staring a bit. ¡°You mean it¡¯s true then? You really did recruit that girl you were with? Why? Who is she? Do you trust her? Have you told her about this Ministry thing? Have you told her what we¡¯re doing at the mall? What else does she know? How long have you known her? How many times¨C¡±


    Quickly, I interrupted. ¡°I haven¡¯t known her very long. And no, I haven¡¯t told her anything about the Ministry. But she kind of already figured out that there was a good reason not to join the Minority, because I keep refusing to even though I¡¯m obviously fine with working with you guys.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, who could¡¯ve seen that coming?¡± With that flat retort, Way shook her head before continuing. ¡°So, are you going to tell her the truth about all that? I mean, if she¡¯s signed up to be your sidekick or partner or whatever, she¡¯s probably going to figure out there¡¯s something bigger going on eventually. That, or something horrible is going to happen to her because she doesn¡¯t know the truth and you¡¯ll feel like a gigantic piece of shit for not warning her about it. Do you really want that? Do you want to put this girl in danger because you wouldn¡¯t tell her the truth?¡±


    Wincing, I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell¨Cokay I think I¡¯m gonna tell her the truth. Just not¨Cnot yet. I want to build up to it first. More to the point, I want to get to know her first, see how she reacts to things, you know? I just need to get to know her more before we jump into the deep end with all the Ministry stuff. I mean, that¡¯s a lot to shove onto a brand new Touched.¡± Glancing down, I muttered under my breath, ¡°Seriously, it¡¯s a lot.¡±


    From the corner of my eye, I saw Way¡¯s mouth open as though she was going to say something. But she stopped herself. I had the feeling she was going to bring up my not telling them the whole story and keeping important things to myself again, then thought better of it.


    Of course, Pack chose that moment to speak up with, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, once you guys get through taking down Pencil and the Scions, you¡¯ll definitely know her really well.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Yeah, unsurprisingly, Way had a bit of a reaction to that. Her eyes behind that domino mask were wide as she pointed at me. ¡°Dude, what is she talking about? You are not going after Pencil or the Scions and you¡¯re definitely not doing it with this brand new girl. What the hell?¡±


    Giving Pack a quick, pointed look (which she ignored), I sighed before launching into an explanation of the situation. I told the girl about the whole favor thing, and that we weren¡¯t actually going after the Scions themselves, but a living witness from Pencil¡¯s early days who might possibly have some kind of secret important insight about that piece of shit that would give Deicide an edge over him. With, of course, the added note that pointing her at the Scions was a hell of a lot safer than us having anything to do with trying to take them down.


    By the time I was done, Way had sat down and picked up Holiday (in her little skink form) to hold in one hand while gently rubbing the back of the lizard¡¯s head with the other. She was watching me dubiously. ¡°Do you really think it¡¯s going to be that simple? You¡¯re just going to track this girl down and get her to tell you some secret about how to stop Pencil, a secret she hasn¡¯t told anybody else yet because she¡¯s so scared of him? She¡¯ll just tell you because you, what, ask nicely? Then you¡¯re going to give that secret to one of the leaders of a Fell-Gang and she¡¯s going to deal with him? And if this whole thing works, there won¡¯t be any terrible consequences and nothing will go wrong?¡±


    With a long sigh, I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know how it¡¯s gonna go. Probably not that smoothly. But it¡¯s the favor Deicide called in. A favor I definitely owe her. And quite frankly, she could have asked for something a hell of a lot worse than that. We all want Pencil to be stopped. If this works, great! If not, at least we tried. I¡¯m paying back the favor by trying to help stop Pencil from killing more people. Like I said, Deicide could¡¯ve tried to get me to do something a lot worse.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Pack put in, ¡°I already told him to pull me in as soon as they get anywhere with it. He¡¯s right, Deicide earned that favor. But she did it by helping save my boss¡¯s kid. So I¡¯m not letting him and his new sidekick run off by themselves and get hurt trying to pay her back for it.¡±


    That-A-Way let out an audible breath, her voice dark. ¡°Believe it or not, finding out that you¡¯re getting involved in this whole thing doesn¡¯t actually make me feel that much better. In fact, it kinda makes me feel even worse, because I really don¡¯t feel like letting the girl I¨C¡± In mid-sentence, she stopped herself, clearly adjusting her words. ¡°¨Cthe girl I¡¯m pretty sure isn¡¯t that bad make herself a target of that psycho piece of shit too!¡±


    Pack and I exchanged brief looks before the La Casa girl cleared her throat. ¡°Sure, right. Well, the¡­ girl you¡¯re pretty sure isn¡¯t that bad is already a target for Pencil. So are you. And so is our little buddy here.¡± She gestured toward me. ¡°Sooner or later, he¡¯s going to get around to targeting us to get back for what we put him and Cup through. So, you know, it seems to me that we ought to take this chance to get someone as strong as Deicide to maybe take him out. If that means we do a little digging and hopefully find an actual weakness no one else knows about so she can actually do something useful, so be it. Better than just sitting around waiting to see what his revenge for that night up at the cabin is gonna be.¡±


    It looked like Way wanted to argue with that for a brief moment. Then she exhaled and sank back a bit. Her finger gently traced along the body of the tiny skink before she found her voice. ¡°Yeah, okay, I get it. You¡¯ve both got a point. But don¡¯t¨Cdon¡¯t go running into life and death shit without getting help, okay? If anything happens¨Cactually, scratch that. Anytime you¡¯re doing anything that has to do with this¡­ plan, tell me. Make sure I know where you¡¯re going and what you¡¯re doing. If you don¡¯t keep checking in, I¡¯ll be there. Just consider me your back-up. But that means you have to keep me updated. Got it?¡± From the tone of her voice, she wasn¡¯t going to accept any arguments.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I immediately answered, giving her a thumbs up. ¡°Like we¡¯re gonna argue against you having our backs? Fat chance, Pencil¡¯s a piece of shit, but he¡¯s a scary piece of shit.¡±


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    ¡°What he said,¡± Pack muttered, gesturing toward me. ¡°I mean, if this thing works out perfectly we won¡¯t get anywhere near him or any of the Scions. But I think we all know how unlikely that is. Nothing ever works out perfectly. Besides,¡± she added slyly with a look toward Way, ¡°I could definitely think of worse people to have watching my backside out there.¡±


    Making a disconcerted noise in the back of her throat, Way pointedly looked at me. ¡°What do we need to do to get ready for this? And, wait a minute, how are we going to do anything in there? I don¡¯t know about you two, but I¡¯m pretty reliant on my powers. I mean, yeah, I¡¯ve had self-defense training, duh. But do you really think we can do enough in that place to help? Hell, you¡¯re taking some brand new girl in there too and I doubt she¡¯s had special training or experience. Unless you somehow managed to recruit a teenage ninja master commando.¡±


    Briefly thinking about Peyton wearing a ninja commando outfit with a big rifle and a sword strapped to her back, I coughed before shaking my head quickly. ¡°Not exactly, but Wren says we should be able to use at least some form of our powers in there. It has something to do with the system reading what we¡¯re capable of, or something like that. I dunno, it¡¯s complicated. The point is, we shouldn¡¯t be completely helpless. Except¡­¡± Trailing off, I looked to Pack and frowned as a thought occurred to me. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure how you¡¯re going to use your power. I mean, will she spawn in lizards for you or something? What¡¯s the deal there.¡±


    Before responding to that, Pack glanced to Way and informed her, ¡°Wren¡¯s the name of our friendly little tech kid.¡±


    ¡°Kid?¡± the other girl quickly put in as she looked from Pack over to me and back, rising to her feet with Holiday still in her hand. ¡°Hold up. You mean this Trevithick you¡¯ve been talking about-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a long story too,¡± I muttered. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s a kid. A genius kid, but a kid. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll meet her soon. She said she¡¯s cool with it. Apparently, she has this crazy idea that if I somehow get in trouble or something, having you to call for help would be a good idea.¡±


    Giving me an intense stare, Way flatly retorted, ¡°Gee, what on Earth could ever have made her think she needed to plan for that ridiculous eventuality? You¡¯re always so careful and definitely never take on more than you can handle. I mean, you¡¯re practically the avatar of caution.¡±


    Flushing at her words behind the helmet, I waved both hands. ¡°Yeah yeah, I get it. You¡¯re hilarious. Anyway, we don¡¯t have a lot of choice right now. If we wanna save this Paige girl, we have to get in there. And the only way we¡¯re gonna get in there to save her is with Wren¡¯s help. Believe me, I wouldn¡¯t¨CI¡¯d be dead without her. Several times over. I¡¯ve made it this far because of you guys, and her. Yeah, she¡¯s a kid. But she knows what she¡¯s doing.¡±


    After a brief pause, Way gave a slow nod. ¡°Right, well, I guess it could be worse. I mean, I go out in the field with Raindrop and she¡¯s saved me a hell of a lot more than once. And this kid isn¡¯t going out to fight or anything, she¡¯s just building stuff.¡± With that, her gaze snapped over to stare me down intently, ¡°She¡¯s not going into the field, right?¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°Yeah, of course not. She¡¯s support. And she¡¯s really good at that. Hell, her being really good is the only reason we even know about Paige being in trouble, let alone have any chance of doing anything about it. Seriously, Wren¡¯s building a virtual reality system and patching it into Paige¡¯s computer core in like twenty-four hours. She¡¯s pretty amazing.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Pack agreed before pushing on. ¡°Anyway, as far as being helpless in there goes, the kid already said she could patch exactly two of my little friends with me. Something to do with technical limitations or whatever. Point is, she can wire in two of my buddies so they¡¯re linked to me in there, just like in the real world. I just uhh¡­¡± She trailed off, looking from Holiday on Way¡¯s hand over to the backpack cage where the rest of the lizards were. ¡°I have to choose which two to take in there.¡± I could hear the grimace in her voice. ¡°Really wish we knew more about what it was like so I knew who I should take with me.¡±


    Shrugging, I pointed out, ¡°I guess we could head over there and see if Wren needs any help. Maybe she¡¯ll know more about what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± Glancing to Way, I added, ¡°And you can meet her. You know, if you don¡¯t have anything better to do right now.¡±


    She, in turn, gave a short nod. ¡°Trust me, I cleared my schedule for this. Paige sounds like our best chance of finding out more about the Ministry. I mean, we¡¯ve got the mall thing, but that¡¯s going to take a while. Plus, it¡¯d be better if we knew what Paige knows before going in there.¡±


    So, keeping an eye out for anyone watching, the three of us carefully made our way through those alleys to reach the shop. We took the same route Pack and I had before, and I noticed the homeless guy from earlier was gone. Briefly, I wondered if he had just moved to a different spot, or if he had already taken the offer to start working for La Casa. Not that I could blame him if he had. The dude was living on the streets. Getting safety and resources from Blackjack and his people was probably pretty tempting.


    In any case, we made it back to the shop, where Pack and I introduced That-A-Way to Fred and Wren. To my surprise, Fred immediately copped to what he had done to make the whole Ashton thing worse with that tool to break into the bank vault. For a moment, Way looked like she wanted to say something about how stupid that was, but she saw the look on his face and let it go. He already knew just how bad it had been.


    Besides, by that point, Wren had already jumped in to start asking her a million questions about her power, her costume, and everything else. The kid looked even more worn out than she had earlier, making it clear just how much effort getting this thing done in time was taking. But at that moment, she really didn¡¯t seem to care that much. The exhaustion fell from her eyes as she excitedly pressed Way to answer all her many, many questions about how the Minority worked.


    It was only a few minutes of that before the kid quickly shook her head. ¡°Sorry, sorry, sorry. Gotta get the machine done. Getting there. Almost there. Really close. It¡¯ll be done in time, I promise.¡± That last bit was directed toward me. ¡°I¡¯ll get it done.¡±


    Quickly, I spoke up in as reassuring a tone as I could manage. ¡°Wren, it¡¯s okay. You¡¯re okay. I know. You¡¯ll get it done. Just don¡¯t kill yourself over it. And tell us how we can help, okay?¡±


    So, for the next hour or so, the three of us kept moving through the shop, carrying stuff up to Wren, holding things for her, passing the kid whatever tool she needed, and generally being as useful as we could.


    We also used that time to ask her about what we were going to be walking into. Unfortunately, Wren didn¡¯t know much. Mostly because she hadn¡¯t wanted to interrupt or distract Paige from defending herself against that invader. The best she could tell us was that the area we were entering kept changing appearance. Sometimes it was an open city street, sometimes it was a mall, a forest, the roof of a building, a huge mansion, a library, whatever. It changed all the time. So we couldn¡¯t exactly plan on what kind of surroundings would be there.


    Eventually, the three of us were downstairs sorting through a couple of shelves when the buzzer at the backdoor rang. It was Peyton, covered by the armor she¡¯d used yesterday, the purple and silver Power Rangers-like bodysuit with the ¡®helmet¡¯ that was purple on top across her head and silver across her throat and lower half of her face, leaving her eyes and nose exposed.


    The girl looked surprised to see That-A-Way when we let her in. She was also slightly surprised to see Pack, but at least I had already told her we would be working with the La Casa girl. There was a quick back-and-forth of introductions and explanations as I informed Peyton that we could trust That-A-Way with this.


    ¡°Alloy, huh?¡± Pack put in as soon as that was done. She looked the other girl up and down curiously. ¡°Cool name. Guess it fits with the whole melding your marbles together to turn into things.¡±


    Alloy, for her part, looked a little uncertain as to how she should react to the supervillain complimenting her name choice. In the end, she offered a little shrug. ¡°Uh, thanks, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Way put in, ¡°I¡¯m just glad you don¡¯t have yet another P name.¡±


    Peyton, of course, practically choked, head snapping that way. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You know,¡± Way continued, ¡°We¡¯ve got Pack and Paintball.¡± She gestured between the two of us in question. ¡°And the girl we¡¯re supposed to be helping is named Paige. Too many P names. It¡¯s becoming a thing.¡±


    Clearly glad that most of her face was covered to hide her expression, Peyton nodded slowly. ¡°Right, good thing.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Pack suddenly put in, ¡°speaking of names, what exactly are you two gonna call your little team-up thing? Hell, pretty sure you should count Trevithick too, so what¡¯re you all gonna call yourselves? Every group¡¯s gotta have a name, especially if there¡¯s two of you out in the field.¡±


    ¡°Batman, Robin, Batgirl, and the rest of that group didn¡¯t have a team name,¡± I pointed out. ¡°I mean, besides Bat-family. Hey, you could be¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not being Paint-family,¡± Peyton immediately interrupted. ¡°And definitely not the Ball-family. Forget it.¡±


    That, of course, was the cue for Wren to come down the stairs, blurting, ¡°Are we choosing a team name?! We¡¯ve gotta choose a team name, right?¡±


    Groaning, I shook my head. ¡°Is this really the best use of our time right now?¡± Another part of me was really resistant to the idea of making this whole team-up thing official in any capacity. It was dangerous, it was reckless, it could backfire with¨C


    ¡°I have an idea.¡± That was Alloy, hesitantly speaking up. ¡°I mean, it might be a little silly, but I was thinking about Paintball¡¯s powers, and mine, and the way Trevithick makes brand new things. And I sorta¡­ I sorta came up with a suggestion?¡± She squirmed uncomfortably, kicking her foot against the floor.


    Not wanting to discourage her despite my trepidation, I nodded. ¡°Okay, whatcha got?¡±


    So, she told us, and explained the spelling. Once she had it out, all of us exchanged looks. Pack shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve heard worse. I mean, it ain¡¯t my team, but I wouldn¡¯t mind jumping under the banner now and then whenever you need a guest star.¡±


    Wren was bobbing her head rapidly, of course, gushing about how cool it was.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s definitely cool,¡± Way agreed, looking to me. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how it looks,¡± I murmured, raising both hands before using my paint to spray the name across the wall in red with black outline. Once it was there, all of us stared at it.


    ¡°I like it,¡± I finally agreed despite the worry I felt. ¡°Good job, Alloy.¡±


    After we¡¯d all taken in the name that we would apparently be using, Way turned from the wall. ¡°Well, should we get busy? From what you guys said, time is sorta of the essence.¡±


    She was right, of course. So, we all got back to work, finishing up the last things that needed to be done before we would be able to jump into virtual reality to save Paige. Hopefully.


    In the background, meanwhile, the name of my brand new team remained in bold red letters across the wall.


    Avant-Guard.

 In Like Flynn 17-04

    Right, so now we had a fancy new team name, thanks to Peyton. I was just hoping we¡¯d get a chance for the name to actually matter before something terrible happened to us. A nagging part of me was convinced that giving ourselves a name was going to curse this whole thing. Meanwhile, another part was telling me I was being stupid and selfish for even involving people in my problems like this. What if something happened to them? How was I going to feel?


    Eesh, maybe they were right about that whole brooding thing. It was just possible that my Touched powers had come with an additional ¡®gift¡¯ of being very, very pessimistic sometimes.


    With effort, I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Yes, this could be pretty dangerous, for more than one reason. And yes, it was risky to involve other people in what could lead to a confrontation with my family eventually. But it wasn¡¯t like I could just shove them out again. I couldn¡¯t tell them to go away or whatever. It wouldn¡¯t work like that. They were here, and I really needed them. I couldn¡¯t do this by myself. I was just going to have to deal with the risk.


    Besides, I didn¡¯t want to do this by myself. Scary as it was to trust others, even with only a small part of what was actually going on, I needed them. Not just physically. I needed their skill and power, yes. But it was more than that. I needed to know there was someone else I could depend on, even if it was only for bits and pieces of the truth. Hard as it was to admit, I really didn¡¯t want to be alone in this. Having Izzy around to talk to had shown me how important that was.


    Working as quickly as we could, our little group did everything we had to over the next short while to get the virtual reality system ready to go. We basically acted as several extra sets of arms and legs for Wren, letting the girl tell us everything she needed to get the thing done.


    For a while, I thought we¡¯d never finish. But, eventually we were all standing around what still looked like a complicated MRI machine. Wren had just tightened one last bolt on the side before stepping back to drop the wrench onto a table and brush her hands off with a note of finality.


    After a moment of all of us standing there looking at the thing, happy to be done working on it, Peyton raised her hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got a question. This thing sorta looks like it¡¯s for one person to lay in. Maybe two if you squeeze and get pretty friendly. How are all of us going to use it, exactly?¡±


    I had actually been wondering the same thing in myself, and turned toward Wren before raising my arms in a shrug. ¡°She¡¯s got a point there. Please tell me we don¡¯t need to build another one of these for all of us. I¡¯m pretty sure we don¡¯t have that kind of time.¡±


    Giggling to herself, Wren shook her head. ¡°Nope! You¡¯re not laying inside the thing, she is.¡± With that, she gestured toward Paige. ¡°She lays inside it, her computer links to the VR system, and you guys wear these.¡± With that, the girl turned to the nearby table before picking up a cardboard box, holding it out to us. We all leaned forward, only to find¡­ sunglasses and gloves. Yeah. All of them had various bits of wires and other clearly technical stuff attached. The sunglasses even had what looked like short antennae glued along one side of the frame. And the lenses were bright, solid green. Meanwhile, the gloves had little microchip-like things attached to the end of each finger.


    Wren quickly explained, while we were staring at the contents of the box. ¡°All you gotta do is put the glasses and gloves on, then sit down by the machine there, see? You¡¯ll get linked into the computer and, as long as it¡¯s on, you¡¯ll see and hear and move in there instead of here.  Whenever you tell your body to move, you¡¯ll actually tell your avatar thing in the computer to move instead.¡±


    That-A-Way spoke then. ¡°Three questions. First, do we have a way to cancel out of it if we need to? You know, in case there¡¯s an emergency. Second, how much of what happens in there are we going to actually feel? And third, what¡¯s the deal with using our powers? I mean, am I going to impulsively try to teleport and all of a sudden the real me is off on the other side of the room in a pile of boxes? Oh, and come to think of it, question three-b, how am I going to use different parts of my power if my body is simply facing one direction? And what about her lizards?¡±


    Wren quickly explained. ¡°Oh, well, first you just use the code ¡®Falling Star¡¯ to jump out of the system. And for the second thing, you really aren¡¯t physically experiencing any of it, but the computer will sorta¡­ give you feeling impressions up to a certain point. You¡¯ll feel things, but you can¡¯t die from it or actually be injured or anything. If you get hurt enough to ¡®die,¡¯ you¡¯ll just wake up out here and have to go back in from the start and make your way to where you were again.¡±


    Once that much was explained, Pack put in, ¡°You said we could use some mental approximation of our powers or whatever, right?¡±


    Wren¡¯s head bobbed quickly. ¡°Uh huh. It¡¯s sort of hard to explain. But the computer looks at what your brain thinks it¡¯s capable of and basically copies back into the system. If you were going into a world I made, I could make you like Superman! But¡­ but you¡¯re not. You¡¯re going into another world, and I don¡¯t have any control over it. Or at least, not very much. The best I can do is make sure you have what your own brains think your powers are.¡± She fidgeted a bit, starting to apologize for not being able to do more than that.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare,¡± I quickly interrupted, raising a finger to point at the girl. ¡°Wren, after everything you¡¯ve done¨C just don¡¯t apologize. You pull all this together in one day. That¡¯s amazing. Seriously, you¡¯ve done enough. More than enough. Just let us handle the rest of it, okay?¡±


    Blushing at that, Wren stammered an agreement. Then she quickly moved on to show a couple tiny animal collars, explaining that putting them on a couple of the lizards would link them to Pack and let her take them into the simulation as well, just like they were really there. They would see and experience things the same way we did. Which, to be fair, was probably going to confuse the hell out of them. I just hoped Pack could make sure they understood well enough.


    ¡°Who¡¯re you taking in with you?¡± That was Way, looking at the girl in question curiously. ¡°I mean, if you can only take two lizards, which two is it gonna be? They¡¯re all pretty helpful.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Pack muttered, her gaze focused over into the corner of the lab, where her assortment of reptiles were all spread out across the floor, curiously investigating their surroundings. ¡°I think¡­ Mars Bar for muscle and Riddles for utility. She can fly and let us know what she sees. Might make finding this chick and her evil twin easier, wherever we end up.¡±


    That said, she turned to look at Wren once more. ¡°But you¡¯ve gotta make sure the rest of them are cool, okay, kid? They¡¯re gonna be confused, so you keep them happy while we¡¯re busy.¡±


    Wren promised she¡¯d make sure the rest of the lizards were okay, while part of me wondered exactly how much of Pack¡¯s request had been for the lizards¡¯ benefit, and how much had been for Wren herself. She was definitely going to feel pretty anxious as she waited for the rest of us to get through this whole thing. Anxious because she ¡®couldn¡¯t help,¡¯ even though she had already helped more than enough. Getting her to keep the lizards entertained and distracted would also entertain and distract her. It was a distraction for both sides. Pack was pretty good at that sort of thing. Which made me briefly wonder if she had any younger siblings she had to distract like that.


    But there wasn¡¯t time to focus on that for long. Because Wren was running through one final checklist. She sounded like mission control for a space launch or something, intently and seriously checking over every part of the system. She didn¡¯t spend long on it, only a couple seconds for each bit, just to make sure everything was still running smoothly. She even had us speak several sentences into a microphone, which would help translate our voices into the virtual world so we would sound right. Which was a real load off my back, since I¡¯d been wondering how I was going to deal with the whole voice changer thing if it turned out to be an issue.


    Once she was satisfied, Wren gestured toward the motionless blonde girl on the table. ¡°Can umm, you guys move her over to the machine?¡±


    Between the four of us each taking part of Paige¡¯s body, Pack, Way, Alloy, and I managed to shift her as gently as possible over to the MRI-like machine. We laid her in place, before Wren hit a button and the thing retracted to take her inside. From there, the kid-genius picked up what looked like a small ipad and started fiddling with it. With each brush of her finger across the screen, the machine we had put Paige into gave what I hoped was an affirmative beep. The last thing we needed right now was for something to go wrong with the system.


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    Okay, so I could think of a lot worse things than that, particularly revolving around one of the Fell-Touched teams like the Scions or Oscuro suddenly attacking. But that was (thankfully) pretty unlikely. Something going wrong with the device Wren had built in a day really could happen.


    Fortunately, the machine itself seemed fine. It gave happy beeps with each check Wren made, before she finally turned to us and gave a thumbs up. Her voice was nervous. ¡°O-okay. I think it¡¯s ready. I mean it is ready. She¡¯s plugged into the system and it¡¯s reading her computer. They¡¯re completely linked. The computer says it¡¯s all green lights. I mean, maybe a couple very faint yellow ones, but it¡¯s still okay. Definitely okay. We are on the positive side of the line!¡±


    Part of me wanted to ask what the yellow lights were, but I was pretty sure knowing wouldn¡¯t help. This was the best we were going to get. And Paige didn¡¯t have time for us to wait for everything to be completely perfect. So, looking to the other three, I asked, ¡°We ready to do this?¡±


    Apparently we were, or at least as close as we were going to get. Sure, there was a lot more I¡¯d like to do to be ready for this, but we didn¡¯t have the time or resources. Paige was in trouble right now. We had to get in there and help her while we still could. So, the four of us arranged ourselves in chairs around the machine. Two on each side. I sat next to Alloy, lifting the front of my helmet to slip the sunglasses on through the holes in the ski mask. Then I exchanged my own gloves for the new ones and looked over to the girl beside me. She looked back and gave a thumbs up.


    ¡°You guys ready over there?¡± That-A-Way called after a moment. ¡°Cuz we have two lizards over here who are very confused about why they¡¯re suddenly wearing collars. So we should probably get this show on the road. You know, so they can be even more confused.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine,¡± Pack insisted. ¡°Just make sure you hold Riddles carefully. Sometimes she forgets she¡¯s not in bird form and tries to fly off things.¡±


    Wren quickly assured us that as the machine kicked in, all commands to move that our (and the lizards¡¯) brains sent our bodies would be translated into the virtual world instead. At least until we gave the Falling Star code. She also belatedly mentioned that we could yank each other out of the system in case of an emergency by saying that person¡¯s Touched name in between the ¡®falling¡¯ and ¡®star¡¯ part of the name.


    ¡°Okay, okay, right.¡± Wren sounded just as nervous as I felt. ¡°Um, one more thing you should probably know. It won¡¯t just be the virus duplicate thing you have to fight. You guys are technically sort of invaders in that system, so whatever defenses her computer has will probably try to kick you out. Especially if she¡¯s not really in full control of it. I¡¯m not sure how it¡¯ll show itself, but umm, just be careful. It¡¯ll probably look like soldiers or guards or something. Whatever fits with the scene they¡¯re playing out you know? The defenses will try to fit in.¡±


    Well, that sounded fun. On the other side of the machine, Pack spoke up. ¡°So hope this chick and her evil twin aren¡¯t playing out some kind of Star Wars shit full of super battle droids, got it.¡±


    ¡°Personally, I¡¯m gonna close my eyes and really push for a Willy Wonka scenario,¡± That-A-Way put in. ¡°I could dropkick half a dozen Oompa-Loompas when they start singing. Creepy shits.¡±


    Yeah, we were definitely trying to keep our minds off what we were actually going to run into. Whatever it was, I had the distinct feeling it wouldn¡¯t be as easy as drop-kicking Oompa-Loompas. But hey, maybe we¡¯d get lucky.


    Yeah, I didn¡¯t believe it either.


    In any case, after running one more, possibly paranoid check, Wren took a breath ¡°Okay, alright. Um, you guys ready?¡±


    We confirmed that, as I shifted in the chair a bit. It wasn¡¯t some random folding chair. The thing was a recliner that was actually fairly comfortable. Not as good as the chairs at home, of course, but at least I wouldn¡¯t fall out of it the moment my body went limp. Or whatever was supposed to happen once I was in the system.


    Once she was satisfied, Wren looked over to the other side of the room, where Fred was standing next to a computer. She started alternating between typing stuff on a little iPad, and calling out things for him to type into his own keyboard. Behind me, I heard a gradually rising whirring sound as the MRI-like machine that we had put Paige into came to life. There was power in the air, enough that it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Oh boy, this was about to get really¨C


    A sudden bright light blinded me, before quickly changing to a swirling pattern of colors that shifted through the entire rainbow multiple times. It wasn¡¯t flashing or anything, just drifting, sort of like a slow kaleidoscope. I could hear the sound of dogs barking, then the sound of ocean waves, then an airplane, people talking in hushed tones, and more. It was cycling through all these random sounds that made no logical sense. Nearby, I heard another sound that I belatedly realized was Alloy muttering under her breath about not wanting to be drugged.


    Finally, the swirling colors turned into a reddish-purple fog and I had the distinct sensation of going down the drop on a roller coaster. A startled yelp escaped me, joined by three others, just as the falling sensation stopped and the fog vanished.


    I was standing in the hallway of my school. I mean, I wasn¡¯t. I was sitting back in that room next to the machine. I knew that. Logically I knew that. But my brain was absolutely convinced at that moment that I was standing here. It looked exactly identical to one of the side corridors near the science classrooms. It even smelled right, for God¡¯s sake. I wasn¡¯t even sure how that part was possible, but it was. No matter what my conscious brain said, I really felt like I was standing in that hallway, as if we had been teleported there. God, this was so weird. I¡¯d expected it to be weird, but anticipation was nothing compared to the real thing.


    Quickly, I raised my hands to my face and looked down to check. Sure enough, I was still in my costume. It had translated perfectly into the system. I had the gloves, the suit, even the helmet. Everything felt fine. Hell, the gloves were mine rather than the ones I actually had on for this, and the front of my helmet was down despite being up in the real world. Convenient.


    ¡°Wha¨C¡± Nearby, That-A-Way was looking around. She too was in her normal costume, just the way she should¡¯ve been. ¡°Why are we at¨Cin a¡­ a school?¡± I could see the slight frown of confusion as she squinted at one of the classroom doors. ¡°That¡¯s what this place is, right?¡±


    Stepping from behind me to move into view, Alloy slowly shrugged. ¡°Definitely ain¡¯t my school. No graffiti, the lockers are way too big, everything smells clean and rich instead of like piss, sweat, and broken spirits.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the school for rich cunts,¡± Pack put in before adding, ¡°I mean, it¡¯s gotta be, right? Look around, tuition for this place must be fucking absurd. I bet these spoiled fucks only get world-touring, chart-topping bands to play their fucking dances.¡± Which totally wasn¡¯t fair, considering the headliner of our last dance had only been like¡­ ninth on the charts.


    In any case, even as Pack said that, Riddles and Mars Bar moved into view, sniffing around their owner¡¯s feet before looking around. I could feel the confusion coming off of them as they adjusted to the fact that their poor lizard brains convinced them that they were somewhere completely new.


    ¡°You guys hear anything?¡± Pack asked, while focusing on growing each of her pets into their larger, more capable forms. I really hoped that, like our movements, the lizard transformations weren¡¯t translating back into the real world. Then again, we¡¯d probably find out real quick if the iguana on the girl¡¯s lap had suddenly turned into a full-sized grizzly bear with scales.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Alloy was saying after we all took a moment to focus. ¡°I don¡¯t hear a damn thing. Is that weird? I mean, shouldn¡¯t we hear them fighting or something? I thought they were supposed to be fighting.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re stalking each other,¡± I pointed out quietly. If they were sneaking around, it was probably a bad idea for us to make a lot of noise. Looking up and down the hallway uncertainly, I frowned in thought. Part of me wanted to call out to get Paige¡¯s attention, but that was almost certainly a bad idea. We needed a better handle on what was going on in here before we just started shouting out for attention. Considering she had some sort of evil duplicate and we still weren¡¯t sure how we were supposed to tell the difference between them if she decided to play that game. Seriously, what did an ¡®evil Paige¡¯ look like, after the years and years the real version had spent deliberately tormenting me (under her father¡¯s orders, but still). It was really weird to think of the girl who had insulted and bullied you for years having an evil twin.


    No, we definitely needed to be quiet and go through this whole thing carefully. With any luck, maybe we could find our way to where they were and eavesdrop long enough to know which was which.


    Unfortunately, of course, I wasn¡¯t that lucky. And we definitely weren¡¯t going to get much of a chance for the whole sneaking thing. Because even as I had that thought, several figures emerged from the classroom doors ahead of us. It was a mixture of teachers and school staff, even a few of the security guards and janitors. I recognized most of them. But they weren¡¯t smiling at me the way they normally did. No, they looked pretty angry. Not to mention violent. Soon, a crowd of over a dozen had formed up to block our path forward.


    ¡°Uhh, guys?¡± Alloy spoke up, and I looked back that way to see a similar group had come through the door leading to the outside. We were penned in on both sides. Worse, the assembled figures began to produce various weapons. Knives, bats, chains, and so on. This definitely wasn¡¯t something we could talk our way through.


    ¡°Trevithick was right about the security measures,¡± I muttered. ¡°They¡¯re definitely not happy to see us.¡±


    ¡°Right, well, these guys we can rip apart, right?¡± Pack put in quickly, as the groups on both sides started to advance. ¡°They¡¯re just computer programs or whatever.¡±


    My head gave a quick nod. ¡°Yeah, no need to play nice. Just get through them. And fast. We have to find Paige.¡±


    Either my saying her name was some kind of signal, or it was just a coincidence of timing. Either way, the moment I got those words out, a collective, horrific scream tore its way out of the throats of the people advancing on us and filled the air like some sort of terrible alarm. They all did it, shrieking like banshees.


    And with that, they attacked.

 In Like Flynn 17-05

    So, this was just great. Now we were being attacked by a bunch of computer program defense systems that looked like my teachers and other staff from school, all of them trying to defend Paige because they thought we were enemies. And we were going to have to tear our way through them to get to her. Yeah, I was pretty sure a therapist would have a field day with this.


    Even as the group was rushing toward us, I caught a glimpse of That-A-Way grabbing hold of Mars Bar before they both vanished, reappearing behind the mob that was ahead of us. It took the lizard-bear only a second to adjust, turn back the other way, and fall on the crowd from behind with a terrifying roar that shook all the lockers and windows around us.


    Meanwhile, Alloy was standing there, making a noise of awe as she stared between the spot where Way and Mars Bar had been, and where they were now. ¡°Oh, man,¡± she muttered, ¡°that¡¯s so¨C¡±


    ¡°Alloy!¡± I blurted toward my new partner, ¡°help them hold those guys off!¡±


    ¡°O-oh, right.¡± Sounding guilty, the girl quickly made the marbles that weren¡¯t part of her armor join together to create the scoop from a bulldozer, large enough to cover the entire hallway. It slammed forward into the crowd to stop them at the same time as Mars Bar crashed into them from behind. Yeah, it sounded nasty over there. And that was even before counting the fact that those things were still letting out those horrific screams, which echoed through the hall as a sort of background accompaniment to Mars Bar¡¯s roars.


    Unfortunately, that still left the mob that had come through the doors behind us for Pack, Riddles, and me to deal with. Quickly, as they came rushing in, I shot green, purple, and orange paint at the La Casa Touched, then activated it for her before putting blue under my feet to launch myself up in a flip over their heads. I intended to land behind them, but one of the security programs (it looked like my quite elderly and quite overweight ninth grade English teacher) leapt into my path, so I slammed into her. Which seemed to hurt me more than it did her, being a program and all.


    I used to like Mrs. Moderane. She was one of my favorite teachers freshman year. But those fond memories started having a bit of trouble when she came down on top of me as we landed on the floor, then punched me in the stomach. At the last second, I managed to paint my helmet orange (still unsure of exactly how well this program ¡®translated our powers into virtual reality¡¯), but even with that, the blow was enough to make me grunt. God damn it, these things were strong.


    Putting purple arrows across both arms, I grabbed both of Mrs. Moderane¡¯s shoulders and then jerked myself backwards as hard as I could before planting my knees in her stomach while simultaneously heaving with both hands to send her flying over my head and into the wall. In the same motion, I kept rolling backwards to move into a crouched position just in time to see one of the janitors and a security guard rushing me with these big, jagged machetes. My hands snapped up to shoot red paint that way¡­ only to miss the two entirely and send both blobs of paint past both of them to hit a couple lockers against the opposite wall. Wait, what th¨C


    A loud bang suddenly filled the air, as Pack came out of nowhere to slam the metal door she¡¯d ripped off a locker into the head of the security guard who was rushing at me. She hit him with enough force to bend the door in half while also basically caving in the entire backside of his head. There was very little blood, all things considered, it mostly just seemed to pop like a balloon before the entire body vanished. The janitor spun that way just in time for her to snap the bent locker door back into his face, sending him crashing to the floor in a heap.


    ¡°Would you keep moving, Ball?!¡± the girl snapped at me before throwing the by-now totally crumpled hunk of metal at the legs of another charging teacher. ¡°They¡¯re not real, stop playing nice and just make sure they stay down! We don¡¯t have time for this, remember?!¡±


    As if to punctuate her owner¡¯s words, Riddles let out a shrill battle cry as she flew overhead, tore a bat out of the hands of another virtual teacher, and sent it flying into the face of one of the office secretaries. Which was only a distraction before the lizard-eagle was right in her face as well, tearing at the woman¡¯s eyes with talons and beak alike.


    Okay, yeah, they were right. We didn¡¯t have time for any of this. Paige could lose her ongoing battle against her other self any minute, and we¡¯d already stretched this out long enough. I just¨CI was used to hitting things I aimed for. Missing completely when they were right in front of me was¡­ kind of new. But I couldn¡¯t worry about that right now. I had to focus on this.


    Giving the other girl a quick recharge of purple and orange, I launched myself upward, renewing my own purple arms before spinning toward a heavyset old man in a plaid shirt. He was wielding a chain, which he tried to swing around my throat while still giving that horrible scream that just would not stop. They were all doing that. Yeah, it was obviously an alarm to call more of them or whatever, but seriously, we got the point. Everyone got the point. Knock it off already.


    My hands managed to catch the weapon as it swung at me, forcefully tearing it out of his hands even as I reflexively blurted, ¡°Don¡¯t you hate it when someone yanks your chain?¡±


    Not only did the virtual computer simulation program not laugh at my joke, it responded by simply creating a new one in its hand, then swung it at me even harder.


    Catching the new chain against my arm as well, I quickly jerked on it to yank the figure closer while simultaneously lashing out with a kick. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re prob¨Caaaaahhh!¡± That last part, interrupting what was going to be a fantastic follow-up to my joke before, came as the damn thing caught my leg and spun to throw me toward the other lockers. I barely managed to flip over in the air and send a shot of blue that way, which helped me rebound off the metal doors (caving them in partway) before crashing into the guy. We both hit the ground, but I managed to wrap the chain around his throat tightly, jerking a bit on it. A purple lion face appeared on my chest for additional strength. For an instant, I hesitated. Video game. It¡¯s just a video game, I told myself.


    With that, I jerked as hard as I could at the tightly twisted chain around the figure¡¯s neck. There was a nasty crack, and the body under me vanished. I¡­ killed him. It. I killed the¨C


    Shoving that thought out of my mind, I hurled myself into a sideways roll just as a machete came down into the space where I had just been. My 10th grade social studies teacher was there, snarling and screaming (do not ask me how he managed both at the same time) with the knife buried halfway into the floor.


    Planting my hand against the floor for leverage, I used that to shove myself up, blurting, ¡°Just a thought¨C¡± My foot lashed out, kicking hard into the man¡¯s face. ¡°Sneaking up on someone works better¨C¡± As his head snapped backward from the blow, the foot I¡¯d used to kick him the first time hit the floor and I rose on that single leg while simultaneously twisting around to plant my other foot in his face as well, hard enough to send him skidding backward down the hall. ¡°If you¡¯re not fucking screaming the whole time!¡±


    ¡°Paintball, up!¡± Alloy called from behind, over the sound of the continued wailing.


    My gaze snapped that way, just in time to see what looked like a thin blade the width of the hallway come flying our way. With a grunt, I grabbed Pack, launching both of us toward the ceiling with one more puddle of blue under our feet. We flipped over in the air and I planted my boots (Wren had included their gravity-flipping in this, thankfully) against the ceiling while holding Pack¡¯s hand as she dangled under me. Or above me, as far as my boots were concerned.


    Below us, Alloy¡¯s blade uhh¡­ yeah, it cut through about half of those guys right around the waist. It went straight down the middle of the corridor, moving really quickly as soon as Pack and I were out of the way. Some of the computer programs managed to duck under or jump over it, but she cut a good number in half. Again, there was very little blood. They just vanished.


    Dropping Pack to the floor, I pushed off, flipping over to land next to her. The remaining ¡®faculty¡¯ were starting to close ranks, but before either of us could do anything, That-A-Way called out. ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s go!¡± She, Alloy, and Mars Bar had cleared the path. We could get out of here.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    So, that was exactly what we did. Spinning on our heels, Pack and I raced over to meet up with Alloy, before all three of us ran to the other two, with Riddles soaring along just above our heads.


    Ahead of us, two doors on either side of the hall tried to open to admit more staff into the hall to block us. But before the doors could fully open, Alloy sent two of her marbles that way, each transforming into what amounted to a crowbar to slam into the doors with enough force to slam them shut once more. The transformed marbles stayed in place while we ran onward, giving us time to get past before flying in to join up with their owner once more.


    ¡°Dude,¡± Way blurted, ¡°those things are awesome! You are welcome to join in on these ¡®do whatever insane thing Paintball drags us into¡¯ jobs any time you want!¡±


    Before I could defend myself from that total slander and point out this wasn¡¯t my fault, the four of us (six counting both lizards) reached an intersection in the school hallway. To our right was the hall leading to the library and media room. Straight ahead was a wall full of academic trophies and a couple doors that would lead into the history section of the school. And to our left was the front hallway leading to the main offices, with an open section about halfway down on the right side of that left hall that would take us to the cafeteria and the main gymnasium. A set of stairs leading to the second floor was in the corner of this intersection, near the hall to the front offices.


    ¡°Where¡¯re we going?¡± Alloy demanded, spinning in a circle. ¡°Uhh, and can we decide pretty quick?¡± She was looking back the way we had come, where more of those security programs were coming fast. And I swore some of them were the same people we¡¯d already put down. So either the computer was spawning people with the same faces, or the program itself was respawning after being put down. But really, was there a functional difference?


    Dammit, where were we supposed to go? Where would Paige be fighting her evil duplicate? How were we supposed to guess something like that? I had no idea, and time was of the essence. Worse, there were suddenly more fake faculty coming down the stairs toward us.


    No, wait. they weren¡¯t coming down the stairs. They were standing halfway up, blocking the stairs. And suddenly, I knew which direction Paige was in. Raising a hand, I pointed that way while blurting, ¡°We wanna go whichever way those guys don¡¯t want us to go!¡±


    Several things happened in very quick succession then. Pack sent Mars Bar to slow down the guys coming up from behind us. Riddles, meanwhile, flew up to harass the guys on the stairs. And left must¡¯ve been the direction of Way¡¯s superspeed, because her form blurred before she was suddenly up there on the steps in time to catch hold of the arm of one guy who was swinging a bat at the lizard-hawk, pitching him over the edge to crash down to the floor below, where Pack herself took his own bat and slammed it into his face so hard the program fizzled and vanished.


    Meanwhile, I ran forward, using blue paint on my shoes to launch myself up and forward. In mid-flight, I extended both hands and sprayed a wide burst of red at the remaining guards. Then I activated it, making all six of them slam together in a tangled jumble of limbs just before I landed on the edge of the railing. At least, I meant to land on the railing, but I overshot a bit and ended up crashing into the opposite wall with a grunt.


    Okay, I was starting to think there was something wrong with me, my powers, or both in this place. It was all just¡­ off for some reason. I didn¡¯t feel as coordinated as I should. There was something missing. Nothing felt right. It just¡­ my powers were all here, my paints were doing what they were supposed to, but somehow it was wrong. Something was different or missing.


    Thankfully, Alloy (who had, once more, been standing flatfooted watching this for a moment) snapped out of it and took advantage of me tangling all six guys together by hitting them with a big shovel made out of two of her marbles to knock all of them down the stairs before the paint expired.


    That-A-Way caught my arm, pulling me away from the wall I¡¯d crashed into. Her voice was clearly concerned. ¡°Paintball, are you okay? You seem¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I quickly blurted, just as Alloy¡¯s shovel-formed marbles reshaped themselves into a board to lift her past the just-then separating heap of computer troops to reach us. ¡°Just¡­ orienting.¡±


    Ignoring the other girl¡¯s look, I raised my voice to shout, ¡°Pack, hitch a ride!¡± With that, I pointed both hands. But rather than shooting the girl herself as she stood in the middle of the intersection down there, I fired purple and green paint toward Mars Bar, who was busy smacking around several of those fake faculty members. And again, I missed with one of the shots. The purple paint blob hit a wall, and I had to quickly adjust to shoot a second blob.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I heard Alloy mutter toward Way, ¡°have you ever seen him miss?¡±


    Ignoring that, I quickly activated the paints on Mars Bar while shouting, ¡°Come on!¡±


    Pack didn¡¯t need me to say it twice. She gave a quick whistle, and the big bear-lizard spun around, dropping onto all fours before charging that way. That green paint on him, he really charged. He was a runaway truck, screaming its way across the polished floor. Pack barely had time to leap on, half dragging herself up and over his back before he continued in a headlong rush. The guys at the bottom of the stairs where Alloy had pushed them didn¡¯t even know what hit them before Mars Bar barreled through with enough force to make all six explode.


    These stairs weren¡¯t specifically built for something like a giant lizard-bear, but they were built to look impressive to a bunch of spoiled rich teenagers who did ridiculous, dangerous stuff all the time. So, they held. But I was still pretty sure sticking around here for long would¡¯ve been a bad idea even if we weren¡¯t already in a rush for plenty of other reasons. And I wasn¡¯t even going to wonder if the stairs here had the same structural integrity as the ones in the real world. That was just way too complicated for me to think about right then.


    Before the computer could summon more things to block our path, we all went charging up the stairs. Pack stayed on her pet¡¯s back, while the rest of us ran. I thought about using green to speed us up, but decided it was probably best to hold off. After all, we had no idea what we were running into. Okay, I did know where we were running. At the top of these stairs would be another intersection, similar to the one we had left below us, except with a big glass window looking into the second floor of the library.


    At least, that was what we were supposed to see. But we didn¡¯t. Instead, all of us reached the top of the stairs and emerged into a small wooden structure that smelled awful. Alloy, Way, and I stopped short in confusion just long enough for Mars Bar to crash into us from behind, sending us stumbling through the nearby doors and out into¡­ sunlight? The fuck?


    Yeah, we were standing outside, in broad daylight just outside of a barn, which we had climbed the stairs in the school to reach. The barn sitting in the middle of this obvious farm. There were cows in a nearby pasture listlessly mooing, a silo nearby, the farmhouse itself in the distance, another paddock with horses, and so on. It was an honest to God farm.


    Wait, hold on. I knew this farm. We had taken a school trip out here in middle school. Yeah, this was the farm we¡¯d visited on that first school trip after I met Paige. Err, re-met Paige, I supposed. She hadn¡¯t exactly been nice up to that point, but it was here on the farm when things had really turned bad. Or rather, when she had really turned up the mean. She and her new friends had made up a whole song about me being a cowboy. Specifically, Hopalong Cassidy. Yeah. Which might sound cute, but it wasn¡¯t. It was very much not cute. I didn¡¯t exactly have great memories about this place.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Alloy was saying while the marbles hovered around her, ¡°for the record, there¡¯s no more stairs in that barn. They disappeared after we all went through. And speaking of, uhhh, all this, either that rich kid school is even more absurd than I thought, or¨C¡±


    ¡°The program shifted,¡± I put in, looking around quickly. ¡°Everything changed to a new location. The¨Ca farm, I guess?¡± I¡¯d been about to say the name of the farm (which was burned into my mind, as much as I might¡¯ve wanted to forget), but that felt like a bad idea for my secrets. Yeah, other schools might visit this place too, but still.


    ¡°Paintball.¡± That was Pack, looking at me. ¡°You sure you¡¯re cool? You uhh, seemed like¡­ a little off back there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m off?¡± Flushing a little, I mumbled, ¡°Yeah, I know. I just¨C it¡¯s weird in here. Doesn¡¯t it feel weird to you guys? Like, isn¡¯t it screwing with your powers a little bit?¡±


    All three of them looked to one another for a silent moment before turning back to me and offering a collection of shrugs.


    ¡°Great, so it¡¯s just me.¡± I started to mutter something about that being just typical before shaking it off. Instead, I looked around, focusing on the reason we were here. I¡¯d just have to deal with whatever was wrong with me as we went. And hope I didn¡¯t screw things up for everyone. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t see that girl we¡¯re supposed to be helping. In fact, I don¡¯t see anyone. So how are we supposed to find her now?¡±


    ¡°We could always ask those guys,¡± Pack dryly remarked. Her attention was centered off in the distance, where a group of ranch hands were riding closer on horses.


    ¡°Something tells me they¡¯re not gonna be any more helpful than the teachers back there were,¡± Way retorted. ¡°Especially since¨Cdown!¡± That last bit came as the assortment of farm people all produced a mixture of rifles and pistols, taking aim.


    Yeah, we all hit the dirt. I sent a burst of orange from both hands to hit the other five (yes, I included Riddles and Mars Bar, of course) while putting more on myself, just before several of the bullets struck home. The paint saved us. And a second later, Alloy managed to combine her marbles into a low wall to give us cover, while more bullets ricocheted off as the hail of gunfire continued.


    ¡°Okay!¡± I shouted over the unending barrage as we all huddled behind that conjured wall, ¡°you know what?!


    ¡°This might be jumping to conclusions a bit, but I¡¯m really starting to feel like this computer might not want us around!¡±

 Non-Canon 7 - An Eventful Dinner

    It wasn''t a normal meal, by any means. Any event featuring a guest list as eclectic as the dinner at Ten Towers between Caishen, Skip, Lightning Bug, Lincoln and Joselyn Chambers, Elena and Sterling Evans, and Paintball was never going to be anything approaching normal.  however, it was, at least, proceeding smoothly, even pleasantly. The group around the table exchanged polite, even amusing small talk. Now and then, they passed a bit of food from the table to one of Bug¡¯s enlarged friends when they got curious enough to come closer. Generally, the meal simply continued with (mostly) casual conversation punctuated by the quiet ting of utensils against plates. It seemed as though, for all of the potential there was for things to go wrong at this powderkeg of a dinner, they would all get through it unscathed and unbothered.


    Unfortunately, when they were about three-quarters of the way through their meal, one thing happened to ensure that the rest would not proceed normally. It was a shift that began when Sterling Evans set down his fork and turned his attention toward the far end of the table, where Lightning Bug sat in her booster seat, happily picking at the food on her plate in between whispering promises to her insect friends that they would definitely have plenty of treats later.


    ¡°So, Miss Bug,¡± Sterling began. ¡°How¡¯re you doing down there, kid?¡±


    As the man spoke, Paintball immediately turned his own head that way to quickly glance between Sterling himself and the little girl he was addressing. It was impossible to make out any details of the boy given the vision-distorting forcefield around his area and the fact that he had only lifted the front of his helmet and tugged up the mask enough to uncover his mouth. But it was quite clear that he was suddenly giving the interaction between the other two his full and complete attention.


    Shifting a little in her seat, the red-skinned, white-haired girl with too-large bright blue compound eyes turned that way. ¡°Oh, hi, Mr. Evans!¡± She raised the hand that wasn''t holding her fork and waved cheerfully. ¡°It¡¯s really good. Are you having a nice meal, sir?¡± The five-year-old¡¯s voice was perfectly polite, clearly a product of her mother¡¯s coaching. Behind her chair, Cinnamon the giant praying mantis made a soft chittering sound as though echoing the same sentiment.


    With a soft chuckle, Sterling nodded. ¡°Oh yes, it¡¯s fantastic, thank you. Some of the best I¡¯ve had. And some of the best company too.¡± Winking as the little girl giggled, he continued. ¡°In fact, I feel so welcome here, it¡¯s probably only fair if¡­¡± He trailed off, glancing past the girl to her mother before adding, ¡°Sorry, you don''t mind if I tell her, do you? We¡¯re just both very excited.¡± That was said as he put one hand on his wife¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    Elena, in turn, offered a beautiful, welcoming smile of her own and gave a slight nod. ¡°Very much so. We¡¯ve been waiting a long time for this.¡±


    ¡°Waiting a long time for what?¡± That was, of all people, Paintball. It sounded as though the boy had blurted the question without even thinking about it. His expression was still hidden behind the mask and forcefield, but there was a certain tone in his voice that made everyone glance that way briefly.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Lincoln abruptly put in, taking the attention away from the young independent Star-Touched. ¡°I think we''d all like to know what''s going on. Because it sounds like you all have some sort of secret plan?¡± His voice was gently teasing, though his eyes were clearly busy taking in and analyzing the reactions of everyone around the table. ¡°Starting to feel left out. I do enjoy secret plans so much.¡±


    Sounding amused by the man¡¯s joke, Caishen gave a simple, agreeable nod. ¡°Go ahead,¡± she replied to Sterling and Elena. ¡°I was going to tell her, but maybe you should.¡±


    The Evanses exchanged glances then, looking as though they were considering which of them would speak. In the end, it was Elena who took the lead, focusing on the little girl at the end of the table. A little girl who looked very confused about what was going on. Speaking gently, Mrs. Evans asked, ¡°Dear, do you remember when you told your mother you wanted to go somewhere else sometimes? When you said you wanted to see a new place and new people instead of being stuck here at Ten Towers all the time.¡±


    After a very brief pause, Lightning Bug nodded hesitantly. She glanced to her mother, then back to the woman who was addressing her. ¡°Uh huh. I--I like it here. We like it here.¡± That was added as the trio of transformed bugs made their own sounds of agreement, clearly not wanting to be left out. ¡°Everybody¡¯s really nice, and we get lots of treats. But¡­ but we have to be careful. Like, really careful, cuz there¡¯s bad guys and it¡¯s not safe to go lots of places.¡±


    From where she was sitting directly next to her niece and between her and the Evans, Skip put in, ¡°Going anywhere else requires a lot of preparation.¡± As always, her voice betrayed no actual emotion. ¡°There are bad people out there.¡±


    Bad people, in this case, would want to take Lightning Bug for very obvious reasons. She was, even at her young age, a very powerful and potentially useful Touched. Not only could she create her intelligent, gigantic insect minions, but the bolts of ¡®electricity¡¯ she used to transform her bugs would also hurt people she didn¡¯t like and heal those she did. That last bit was what made her such a tempting target, of course. A Touched who could actually, legitimately heal people, even if she was limited to bodily injuries and couldn¡¯t actually do anything about specific diseases, was almost invaluable. Coupled with how young and therefore malleable she could be, and it was no wonder there were so many threats targeting her. As much as her family and friends tried to give her as normal of a life as she could possibly have, there was only so much they could do. It was no wonder that the kid felt cooped up, despite the size of the compound she had to play around in. Not being able to go to a normal kindergarten with other students, run around on the playground at a park any time she wanted, or simply eat at a restaurant in town had to take its toll on someone as outgoing and friendly as the kid was.


    Joselyn spoke up then, after the group had exchanged glances that conveyed their own feelings about that situation. ¡°You¡¯re right, there are very bad people out there. But there are a lot of good people too. More than bad.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Caishen confirmed. ¡°And we don''t want to put those good people in danger from the bad ones. So we have to be careful. Thankfully, we have some good, very secure friends who can help with that.¡±


    Taking that as a cue, Elena nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. And we absolutely love to do it. So, Bug, how would you like to start visiting our home? It¡¯s not the same as going out in public, but it would be a different place for you to be around. You could see our son and daughter. They¡¯re older than you, but I¡¯m sure they¡¯d love to have you visit. And there¡¯s Izzy too. I¡¯m sure she¡¯d like to have someone else besides us and the staff around sometimes.¡±


    As her already large eyes widened even further, Lightning Bug blurted a clearly surprised, ¡°Really? I could really come over to your house?¡± Behind her, the girl¡¯s three enlarged bug friends were making their own sounds of curiosity and even excitement at the possibility.


    Sterling smiled at their reaction. ¡°That¡¯s right. We¡¯ve been talking to your mother for awhile, and we have our own extensive security to keep you safe. As my lovely wife here said, it wouldn¡¯t be the same as going out in public. But it would be someplace new and exciting. You could visit a few days a week if you want to. You know, hang out, see Cassidy and Izzy, even Simon if he¡¯s not pretending to be too cool to spend time with his family. Actually, as cool as you are, Bug, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯d outweigh how uncool my son thinks we are. Maybe you can lure him in to being around more.¡± He winked when the little girl giggled at that. ¡°So, what do you say? You wanna pop over and spend some time at our house a few times a week? Your mother said we could even have a sleepover with Cassidy and Izzy if you want to try it.¡±


    Eyes as wide as saucers by that point, Lightning Bug¡¯s head bobbed up and down so fast and enthusiastically it looked as though it might pop right off. ¡°Uh huh!¡± she blurted quickly, voice loud from excitement. ¡°Mama, can I really go there? Really really?¡± She had practically lifted herself out of the booster seat, head snapping back and forth between looking at the Evanses and staring eagerly at her mother. It was clear to everyone watching that the kid was almost ready to explode from elation at the possibility.


    Clearly smiling fondly, Caishen nodded to her daughter. ¡°That¡¯s right, Buggy. I hear they might even be able to get some kids your own age there sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Elena confirmed. ¡°Several of our household staff have their own young children they¡¯d be willing to bring over for some playtime.¡±


    ¡°Just like when we have our friends here bring their kids over,¡± Caishen noted before looking at the young girl once more. ¡°So, if you want to, you can go spend some time over at the Evans¡¯ house a few times a week, as much as they¡¯ll have you. Do you think you¡¯d like that, Bugs? Would you like to spend a lot of time with Mr. and Mrs. Evans?¡±


    Once again, the girl bobbed her head rapidly. ¡°Yeah!¡±


    That, of course, was completely expected. The girl had been so excited through the entire discussion and revelation that no one was surprised by her enthusiastic agreement. They were, however, surprised when that single word was instantly followed by another, from the opposite side of the table.


    ¡°No!¡± That was Paintball, who had been mostly silent throughout that entire exchange, almost forgotten by most (though not all) of the other people at the table. The boy had risen to his feet, the chair kicked backward before it fell to the floor behind him with a loud bang as he shouted that denial. Despite the incredible brevity of the shout, there was a clear flood of very strong emotion within it. The shout was filled with anger, denial, even terror.


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    ¡°Paintball? Is something wrong?¡± Elena¡¯s voice was tinged with the same confusion everyone else at the table was feeling just then. Yet, the confusion didn''t reach her eyes, which were staring intently at the boy as though analyzing everything about him and reappraising. There was an intensity to her gaze that had not been there before. It was clear to anyone paying attention and with the proper skills to read it that, while her voice and most of her body language portrayed nothing but pure bafflement, there was something far more intense just below the surface.


    Sterling, by contrast, turned to humor. Waving a hand toward Paintball, the man faux-casually remarked, ¡°Well, if you really want to visit too, I''m sure we could keep a place open for you.¡± He gave an easy wink then, while sipping from his glass. ¡°No need to be jealous of poor little Bug.¡±


    Caishen started to say something as her eyes moved between the Evanses and Paintball. But before any words could come out, the young Star-Touched suddenly slammed both of his hands down on the table hard enough to knock over several of the glasses, and shake everything else. ¡°No!¡± His voice was loud, a blurted shout filled with more emotion than any at the table had seen from the boy. ¡°Not this time! You¡¯re not taking her. You¡¯re not making her one of your little projects! Not her! Not her!¡± He was pointing toward Bug, who had already scrambled from the booster seat, across Skip¡¯s lap, and into her mother¡¯s. The three enlarged insects had formed a quick protective guard around them even as Paintball continued. ¡°You already think you can change Izzy, make her one of your--your soldiers, your toys! But you¡¯re not taking Bug! She¡¯s not going anywhere near you anymore! Not now, not ever.¡± The last bit came not in a shout, but in a low growl as he glared down to that end of the table. The front of his helmet was still up from eating, his mask tugged out of the way of his mouth. But it was still impossible to make out most of his features. One thing that was clear, however, was the fact that he was furious, completely and utterly livid. And all of that anger, all that rage, was directed to the other end of the room, straight at Elena and Sterling. But there was more there. He was angry, that much was completely obvious. Yet, the boy was also afraid, panicked. He¡¯d acted without thinking, emotions driving him forward and now he had no way to back up, no way to erase those actions even if he¡¯d wanted to. The moment his outburst had begun, Paintball had been committed.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Elena spoke carefully, her own voice very deliberately measured. ¡°If you have something to say about my husband and I, perhaps it would be better to speak in private. Those sorts of personal grievances are best kept between us. And I assure you, we mean nothing but the best for Lightning Bug. She is the daughter of one of our very closest friends. We don¡¯t--¡±


    While the woman was still in mid-sentence, Paintball himself suddenly moved. His hands snapped out, shooting twin bursts of red. One splatter of paint hit the wall near the door, while the other flew toward what appeared to be empty air about halfway between where Paintball was and where the Evanses were. That paint, however, stopped in mid-air, splattering against something that seemed to be invisible. An instant later, there was a grunt as Sterling suddenly appeared there just before being yanked off the floor to fly into the wall where the second bit of paint had been sent.


    ¡°Sterling?!¡± That was Caishen, on her feet as she moved a couple steps around the table on Paintball¡¯s side. Her gaze had already moved to where the man had appeared to still be sitting when the real, apparently invisible one had been hit with paint. That sitting figure had vanished at the same instant that the actual Sterling had been revealed.


    ¡°No.¡± Elena had risen to her own feet as well. There was a small pistol in her hand, though it looked far different from a normal gun. There were electric-blue lines along it, and both the magazine and the last third of the barrel appeared to be made of some sort of solid green energy. This was a Touched-Tech gun, and probably a very advanced one at that. ¡°How?¡± she demanded, voice actually shaking just a bit. ¡°How did you see through that? It¡¯s impossible.¡±


    ¡°Elena!¡± Caishen was suddenly beside Paintball, one hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder, though it was unclear whether she was being protective or making sure he didn¡¯t do anything else. ¡°What the hell are you doing? Put the gun down.¡± Her voice was firm, while she gave a quick glance back to ensure that her daughter was safe. The young girl was cowering in a corner, surrounded by her three bugs while Skip stayed directly in front of her as a human shield. A very effective one at that, given her own powers.


    Satisfied that her child was as safe as she could be, Caishen continued. ¡°Everyone calm down.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± That was Joselyn, who had stood up as well from her place on the opposite side of the table from where Paintball and Caishen were. She also had her own pistol in her hands, pointed toward Elena. ¡°Listen to me, Mrs. Evans. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on yet, but you need to put that weapon down right now. No one is going to do anything crazy.¡±


    With a grunt at that, Sterling picked himself up and carefully brushed off his suit. He seemed unconcerned about being hurled into the wall. Eyes narrowing slightly, he focused on Paintball and took a step that way.


    That single step was as far as he got before Joselyn turned her aim from Elena to him. ¡°Mr. Evans, do not move.¡±


    Moving her weapon away from the woman who was still holding her own might have been a mistake for most people. But even as Joselyn was doing that, Lincoln had risen from his chair, a gun of his own in his hands to take over covering Elena. It was a motion so smooth, Joselyn shifting to cover a second threat while Lincoln took over the first, that the two of them had to have done something of its like many times.


    If he was impressed by their teamwork, however, Sterling didn''t show it. Instead, he simply regarded the weapon pointed to him briefly before his entire body was encased in a silvery liquid metal that soon hardened into the familiar armored costume of Silversmith. While the others reacted to that, he glanced toward his wife, lamenting, ¡°Looks like we¡¯re going to have to call Kent in after all.¡±


    The other adults at the table had no idea what he was talking about. And most were still reeling from the sudden revelation of his powers. But Paintball blurted, ¡°Are you?!¡± His voice cracked from powerful, almost staggering emotion. It almost sounded as though something within the boy had broken in that moment. ¡°Are you gonna do it again?¡±


    With that, and before anyone in the room could react, Paintball jerked the helmet off his head in one smooth motion, tossing it to the side. With his other hand, he jerked the mask the rest of the way off, clutching that in his hand while glaring across the room.


    And then, in that single, utterly unexpected moment, so much of the past few minutes made sense. It explained so many of his actions. Because they weren¡¯t his actions. They were hers.


    ¡°Cassidy.¡± That single word came from Elena. The gun had already fallen from her hand to bounce on the floor, while she stared that way. Shock and disbelief filled her voice. ¡°You¡­ it¡¯s¡­ you.¡± Raising one hand to her mouth, the woman made a noise deep in her throat that sounded as though her heart was cracking apart. ¡°No. No, not like this. It¡¯s not right. It--¡±


    ¡°Are you gonna do it again, Mom? What about you, Dad?¡± Cassidy Evans snapped, gaze moving back and forth between them. ¡°Who wants to hold me down and let Mr. Jackson erase my memory? You wanna flip a coin for it? How about this, one of you can hold me down while Tomas¡¯s dad tears his way into my fucking mind, and the other one can make up the new story to tell me. That¡¯s fair, right? That way both of you get the chance to fucking violate me and neither of you has to miss out on the fun!¡±


    Her words appeared to have a physical effect on both her parents. Elena and Sterling recoiled, shaking their heads. Her mother found her voice first, though it shook a bit. ¡°Cassidy, my principessa--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that!¡± Cassidy, filled with a sort of anger that was clearly her only defense against the rush of despair and emotional agony slamming itself against her own heart, blurted loudly. ¡°You--you¡¯re both¡­ you¡¯re¡­¡± Tears were streaming down the girl¡¯s face, her entire body shaking violently while her voice cracked, an audible representation of the way her very soul was quickly shattering. ¡°You¡¯re the bad guys. You¡­ you¡¯re the fucking bad guys.¡±


    Sterling, looking like he had been physically struck, shook his head. All of his attention was on his daughter, as though he had forgotten everyone else in the room. ¡°Cassidy,¡± he managed in a weak voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡­ what you know, but it¡¯s more complicated than that.¡± He reached out toward his daughter, only to stop as she flinched away from him. In that instant, it looked as though the man would rather have been shot in the gut and left to die than see his daughter react that way to him.


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Caishen spoke carefully. ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly what¡¯s going on here, but I think it¡¯s pretty clear that--¡± That was as far as she got before the woman¡¯s eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed to the floor next to Cassidy. Across the table, Lincoln and Joselyn both hit the floor around the same time, falling out of sight. Meanwhile, back in the rear corner, Lightning Bug, her insects, and even Skip were all similarly unconscious.


    ¡°Wha--what?!¡± Looking from one fallen form to another, Cassidy backed up another few steps, voice rising. ¡°What did you do?! What did you do?!¡±


    In answer, Elena calmly held up what appeared to be a metal vial with the cap off. ¡°It¡¯s alright, dear. It¡¯s only an odorless, invisible sleep vapor. They¡¯ll be just fine. What Skip doesn¡¯t know about, she can¡¯t make herself immune to. In a few hours, they¡¯ll wake up. And by then, they won¡¯t have any memory of this.¡±


    ¡°But--but I¡¯m awake,¡± Cassidy stammered in clear confusion.


    ¡°A friend of ours mixes the vapor,¡± Sterling quietly informed her. ¡°He ensures that our family is immune to it. That includes you.¡±


    ¡°Cassidy,¡± Elena began, clearly taking everything she had to keep her voice steady, ¡°obviously, we need to talk.¡±


    ¡°Do we?¡± Cassidy¡¯s own voice was high with near-hysteria. ¡°Do we really? Cuz like I said, you could always just erase my memories. That¡¯s what you just said you¡¯re gonna do to all these guys. What¡¯s one more? It¡¯d be more convenient for you if I was too stupid to know what was going on.¡±


    ¡°Oh baby¡­ that¡¯s not true.¡± Speaking through clear emotional pain, Sterling shook his head. ¡°I know it¡¯s easy to be upset. You have every right to be. But we¡¯re not going to hurt you. We¡¯re not erasing your memory, I promise. We¡¯ll talk this out. We--¡±


    In mid-sentence, the man was suddenly interrupted by a blinding flash of light. It filled the room, making all three of them stagger. Elena called her daughter¡¯s name, while Sterling started to move that way. But as the flash cleared, the two found empty space where Cassidy had been. She was nowhere in the room.


    Only belatedly did they realize that their daughter was not the only one missing.


    *******


    Jerking back so fast she almost fell over, stumbling in what turned out to be a small alley blocks away from where they had been, Cassidy blurted, ¡°Wh-what the fuck?!¡±


    ¡°Cassidy, it¡¯s okay.¡± The gentle voice made her gaze snap that way, only to find Lincoln there with his wife, hands raised as though to calm her down.


    Seeing them did nothing to explain things or to lessen Cassidy¡¯s confusion. ¡°Wait--you--you were unconscious. The vapor, you--¡±


    Joselyn spoke flatly. ¡°They¡¯re hardly the first people to use odorless gas. We have our own early warning system and protection.¡±


    ¡°And ways of escaping trouble,¡± Lincoln added, holding up a small, pipe-shaped device about six inches long. There was smoke coming out of one end, as if it was severely overheated. ¡°Including an emergency teleporter and flashbangs. But ahh¡­ speaking of getting out of trouble, it sounds like you could use some help with that yourself.¡±


    With a nod to her husband¡¯s words, Joselyn focused on Cassidy. ¡°Indeed. So why don¡¯t you tell us exactly what¡¯s really going on around here.


    ¡°Start from the beginning.¡±

 In Like Flynn 17-06

    So there we were, four girls, a lizard-bear, and a lizard-eagle, all crouched and huddled behind a marble-construct wall that was being pummeled by gunshot after gunshot. I honestly had no idea how much longer it was going to be able to hold up under this kind of assault. And I really didn¡¯t want to know what was going to happen if it crumbled and left all of us open and exposed. We had to deal with these ¡®cowboy¡¯ programs quickly, before we ended up as fish in a barrel.


    And, of course, it had to get worse. Because the ranch hands were all on horses. So they didn¡¯t exactly have to stay where they were while firing. Already, several of them were starting to spur their mounts to take off to either side so they could get a clear line of fire around the wall.


    Yeah, this was a not-great situation that was getting worse by the moment. Not to mention the trouble I was having with my own power. I was just plain off on aiming, on knowing where things were, on everything. And I didn¡¯t have time to sit around trying to figure it out. Yeah, there was obviously something different about the way my powers really worked and the way the machine was interpreting them. Like the way I had traveled through the dark forest, or the way Murphy and Roald had pointed out my aim at the basketball court. But I couldn¡¯t fix that or even spend time dwelling on it. I had to work with what I had in here. Paige was counting on me to do something before it was too late and she ended up being taken over by this evil copy, not just lament about power problems.


    ¡°We¡¯re jumping,¡± Way blurted, even as the shots from the guys who were spreading out got way too close to the edge of the wall. Alloy had adapted by curving the thing inward to continue covering us, but it was getting spread pretty thin to do so, and was already shuddering under the force of the incoming bullets. Pretty soon, the wall was going to be a full circle, and I really didn¡¯t know how long it would hold up like that. Way was right, we had to teleport out of there.


    Still, I had an idea, so I quickly put a hand up against the girl¡¯s arm and shook my head. ¡°Wait! I¡¯ve got something. Alloy, dome us. Doesn¡¯t have to last long, just cover us up, now!¡±


    She may have been even newer to this stuff than I was, but Peyton knew how to listen. Immediately, she shifted the circular wall into a dome to cover us entirely, even sending the silver marble out of her own suit to reinforce. Which left the girl wearing only the main purple part of her Sentai-like armor. It didn¡¯t exactly expose her skin so much as make the rest of the violet material spread out to cover what was left, but it was obvious that the remaining armor was weaker. Even so, it did, at least, give the dome around us a bit more of a boost to survive as the hail of gunfire only seemed to intensify. The bullets were coming in from all sides constantly.


    The point was, we really didn¡¯t have much time. So I didn¡¯t waste any, quickly blurting out my plan in a few words. The others looked at one another, but nobody had anything better. And we didn¡¯t have the precious minutes it would take to come up with something else. So, everyone agreed, and we went to work over the next few seconds, while the dome flickered around us. Any moment now, that shield was going to fail. We knew it, and our attackers knew it.


    Moments later, the shield broke apart into its individual marbles. But, the security programs weren¡¯t faced with a group of exposed victims like they thought. Instead, they found themselves staring down the solitary figure of a large reptilian-bear. A very large, very angry, very colorful reptilian-bear. Mars Bar had green across all four paws and ankles, purple up all four legs, and the rest of his body was entirely covered in orange, save for his head.


    As soon as he was revealed, the big colorful bear-lizard let out a terrifying roar that seemed to shake the entire world, before taking off. The green made him so fast that the fake cowboys were barely able to react before he slammed into the first of them. And with the added strength from the purple paint, the force of that collision made both the ¡®man¡¯ and his mount burst apart, shattering into light particles. In the same motion, Mars Bar lashed out toward the next nearest attacker, that simple swipe of his enormous paw literally shattered the program he hit. The security figure flickered and vanished as if it had never been there, before it could even retaliate.


    Finally, the other cowboys reacted and started shooting. But with all that orange paint and the bear-lizard¡¯s natural defense, their bullets didn¡¯t stand a chance of stopping him before it was too late. He fell on the largest group, going through them like a wheat thresher even as they all continued to frantically concentrate all of their gunfire on the huge threat tearing them apart.


    And that, of course, worked to distract the remaining cowboys from the threats that had just shown up behind them. Namely, the rest of us. That-A-Way had teleported us out of there before Alloy took down the shield to reveal Mars Bar. We ended up behind the barn, and made our way back around just in time for me to activate the paint so the big bear could do his thing.


    Now, instead of being trapped there while literally surrounded by a group of gun-toting security figures, we were behind them while they were completely focused on the threat who was tearing through the largest clump of their men. And they had no idea where we were. Not yet, anyway. Which was something we were about to take full advantage of.


    We hit them before they knew what was happening. Pack, wielding the bat she¡¯d taken from before, popped up beside one guy¡¯s horse and slammed her liberated weapon into the back of his head as hard as she could. At the exact same time, Way grabbed two guys and teleported a few feet to the north and a good two hundred feet into the air before releasing them. As she started to fall, she teleported another couple feet forward and right back to the ground before pivoting to face two guys who were shooting at her. Except she was facing south, so her intangibility meant the bullets just passed through her and hit a couple of the remaining cowboys on that side.


    Meanwhile, Alloy and I hit the remaining guys, whose attention had suddenly been diverted to where Pack and Way were. Peyton had brought her marbles flying back to herself, reinforcing her armor once more while creating a white and bronze sword in one hand, which cut through one of the men just as he pivoted on the horse to face her. The black and gold marbles had, at the same time, transformed into a huge floating hammer, which crashed into another guy to send him flying before he splattered apart against the wall of the barn.


    Which left me. I had saved just barely enough paint after setting up Mars Bar to put purple stripes across my arms and an orange exclamation point on my back. It wouldn¡¯t save me from sustained fire or anything, but it gave me a little bit of a boost so I could grab the leg of one cowboy and yank him off his horse. He struggled, catching me in a tight grip, but I grabbed hold of his shirt collar and slammed my helmeted head into his face before he could do more than that. It was enough to make him let go of my collar before I spun and threw him into the next guy, who had just been taking aim at me.


    Ignoring the horse, I stooped and grabbed the guy¡¯s fallen gun off the ground. While he and the figure he had crashed into were picking themselves up, I took aim from right up close, hesitating only slightly before telling myself it was just like a video game. No matter how real it felt, these people aren¡¯t real. They were just obstacles to stop us from getting to Paige in time.


    With that thought filling my mind, I narrowed my eyes and pulled the trigger several times. The gun kind of bucked in my hand, but not as much as the one back in the real world had when I¡¯d been fighting those biolems. This was more of a videogame gun, naturally. The bullets hit the figures on the ground and made them blow apart into light fragments before disappearing. Quickly, I turned the weapon to any others I could see, firing several more times before the gun clicked empty. Even without the harsh recoil, I still missed with a couple shots, because as much as this was like a video game, there was still a major difference between physically holding a gun and pulling the trigger, or doing so on a screen with a controller. But hey, two of the shots hit their targets, making the ranch hand figures burst into pixels.


    Between the four of us, Mars Bar, and even Riddles (who dropped in out of the sky to cover her partner-lizard, raking at the eyes of anyone still taking shots at him), we cleaned out the rest of the guards pretty quickly. Which left us standing there alone, at least for a moment.


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    ¡°Gotta hurry,¡± Way was saying while we panted there together, catching our breath. ¡°These things are just going to keep respawning and coming after us. We¡¯ve gotta find Paige. So where is she? I¨Cthis is some farm outside town. A bunch of schools take field trips out here all the time. So why is this important? Why would Paige¡¯s computer thingie put us out here? And how do we find her? Preferably before we end up in brawl number three with those assholes.¡±


    She was right, we couldn¡¯t just run around in circles hoping to accidentally trip over Paige. There had to be a reason that the scene had gone from the school to this place. This¡­ ranch was where my first real nasty encounter with the girl had happened. That was important, right? Was Paige like¡­ reliving things or whatever? Or just jumping between various locations where important moments of our history had happened.


    Oh boy, if that was true, we really had to get through this before the scene changed to something that would give too many hints about who I was. That was a thought that spurred my brain to start working overtime. It was time to figure this out and find Paige.


    Pack had already turned and started to move, with Mars Bar quickly starting to lumber after her. ¡°The main farmhouse. It¡¯s the best chance we¡¯ve got, right? It¡¯s like the main building. They¡¯ve gotta be up there. Where else would they be?¡±


    Where else indeed? Yeah, the main farmhouse made sense. Except that wasn¡¯t right. The second she made the suggestion and started moving, I knew where Paige actually was. It jumped into my head instantly. The pond. There was a pond just over the hill, where the two of us had had our first ¡®fight.¡¯ She¡¯d kicked muddy water up onto me, and I sort of shoved her into it, then she pulled me after her and we both had to be separated. It was a whole thing. That was it. That was where this program had put her when the scene reset. It had to be. Not the farmhouse, the pond.


    But how was I supposed to get them to go over there without giving anything away? I couldn¡¯t explain how I knew the truth, and they were already heading the wrong way. For a brief moment, I stood there, frozen by indecision. Then I simply blurted, ¡°Hey, did you hear that?!¡± As they all turned toward me, I pointed toward the hill. ¡±It was coming from that way.¡± Oh boy, if I was wrong about this, it was a real fuck-up. But I was positive that I had to be right. We¡¯d barely even gone in the farmhouse on that tour. If this was supposed to be an important place for Paige, it had to be over by the pond.


    The others were saying they didn¡¯t hear anything, but I didn¡¯t wait around for that. I was already turning that way and rushing while claiming I¡¯d definitely heard something. My only chance was to fully commit to this and not give them time to object more.


    Thankfully, I was apparently convincing, because the others didn¡¯t question it too much before simply following. Apparently I had just become that good of a liar, which was probably something I should examine later. But right now, the only thing that mattered was getting to Paige.


    Unfortunately, the direction we were going was not within Way¡¯s super speed or teleportation range of direction. So, it would have taken a long time to make the whole trek, following the trail that I had vaguely remembered. It had been like a twenty minute hike. Fortunately, we had Alloy. She made a large, semi-circle shaped board to fly everyone that way, including Mars Bar. She was at the front, and the only one standing given her ability to lock her armor boots in with the board itself. Meanwhile, the rest of us were kneeling and holding onto handles she had created, with That-A-Way and me to one side, Pack to the other, and Mars Bar lying down in the middle. The poor lizard-bear did not seem to be happy about flying, and kept making low groaning noises of objection. I just hoped he wouldn¡¯t lose his lunch, if that was even possible in here. Digital bear vomit was not something I wanted to think about, on top of everything else.


    It wasn¡¯t the most stable or fast ride, given the weight involved, but it was a hell of a lot quicker than walking. With that help, it only took us a couple minutes to reach the hill and get to the top, Which meant that, at the very least, my paint had had time to regenerate completely.


    Finally, we reached the crest of the hill and could immediately see the glistening water of the pond stretched out below. At first, I saw nothing else. My eyes frantically scanned the ground around the water, searching for what I knew had to be there. Or rather, who. But I saw nothing. Oh God, oh God, was I wrong? If I had fucked this up, I¡¯d never forgive my¡ª


    ¡°There!¡± It was Alloy, pointing toward the far edge of the pond, where a large mess of reeds had grown up out of the shallow water. They stood several feet high, blocking the view of anything within. But, as my eyes focused that way, I could see two figures rolling around in there. They weren¡¯t standing up, but rather, were scrambling on their hands and knees, grappling one another, and generally struggling together. Whatever was going on in there, it seemed nasty. From up here, it sure as hell looked like they were trying to drown one another. It was impossible to make out any details about the figures, including what they look like or who was winning. But it had to be Paige and the virus, right? There was no other real option. It was them, and from the look of things, they were really going at it.


    ¡°Get us over there!¡± I blurted, eyes widening at the sight. Through the reeds and across so much distance, it was all I could do to make out that the two figures were both struggling to push one another¡¯s heads under the water. Part of me wondered what that would accomplish inside a place like this, but maybe it was representative of a different kind of computer attack or something. Either way, we had to intervene, because I had no idea which one of them was winning. That was something we were going to have to sort out once we separated them. Hopefully without being interrupted by more security programs. We had enough to deal with.


    With a hasty nod, Alloy sent the board flying down the hill. Mars Bar groaned again, before Pack reached over with one hand to rub his head comfortingly. Meanwhile, Riddles flew in a dive right beside us, clearly resisting the urge to let out a shrill bird-of-prey cry. The eagle-lizard was smart enough to know that we were trying to be quiet right then. We had to hit Paige and the virus copy before they knew what was happening, separate them, and figure out where to go from that point. There had to be a way to get rid of the virus for good.


    We were rapidly getting closer as we blew down the hill. But it wasn¡¯t fast enough for me. I desperately wanted to launch myself that way with a shot of red paint to hit one of them, but I didn¡¯t trust my aim in this place. There was still something wrong with my power. Closer, we had to get closer. Tightening my grip on the handles, I stared intently that way, trying not to seem too desperate. This whole situation was going to be hard enough to navigate without letting the others wonder why I was so emotionally invested in saving Paige.


    Finally, we were close enough, and I couldn¡¯t wait any longer, secrets be damned. It was clear from this distance that one of the figures was on top of the other, pushing their head under the water. It could have been Paige winning, but I couldn¡¯t take that chance. With a blurted thanks for the ride, I put blue paint under me to launch myself forward just ahead of the flying board. Extending both hands, I sprayed a much wider burst of red paint that I normally would have, just to make sure I hit my target. The figure on top twisted around just as the paint hit them, reacting instantly by looking that way. Before they could do anything else, I activated the paint and was immediately yanked through the air the rest of that distance. Once I was within about fifteen feet, I tried something new by focusing on reversing the pull so that the other girl was yanked toward me instead. Just as she was hauled off her feet and launched my way, I released the paint entirely, tucking myself into a ball with a green exclamation point across my chest to speed up my drop.


    It worked. I fell faster than the figure I had yanked up rose, passing just beneath her before twisting in the air to land on my feet, up to my knees in the water. An orange smiley face across my back protected me from the impact.


    Meanwhile, the figure I had yanked into the air landed about ten feet away, crashing down with a splash in the water before popping up and spinning toward me. It was Paige.


    Then the figure she had been trying very intently to drown popped up as well, just a few feet to one side. That was Paige too.


    ¡°Cassidy!¡± They both blurted. Thankfully the board with the others was still too far for them to hear, but still. I flinched inwardly, shooting a burst of black silencing paint at each of them.


    ¡°First one to try to expose my secret is obviously the fake,¡± I blurted immediately. ¡°That¡¯s the one we get rid of.¡±


    A moment later, while both Paiges (they each looked pretty exhausted, injured, worn-down, and generally as if they¡¯d been fighting for a long time) reacted to that, the others reached us. Alloy dismissed the board into separate marbles while they all hopped off and looked around. That-A-Way stepped forward right next to me, looking like she was about to say something before catching herself and reconsidering.


    Both Paiges, meanwhile, were clearly reeling from the shock of all of us showing up like this inside their computer brain digital world. I could see their eyes darting from one person to the other, obviously taking everything in while they panted from their recent fight, taking the moment to recover.


    In the end, it was Pack who spoke first. Her voice was blunt as she stood next to a looming Mars Bar. ¡°Right, so we found them. Good for us. So, how do we figure out which one is the real chick and which one¡¯s the fake?¡±


    My mouth opened before I stopped. I had no idea. But, worse than that, I didn¡¯t know what was going to happen once we finally did identify them. Right now, the thing stopping the fake Paige from giving up my identity was the fact that she was still trying to pass as Paige herself. At least while she looked for an opening. But if we figured out who the fake was, she would have no reason to keep quiet anymore.


    And once that happened, how was I going to stop her from blurting out every secret I had?

 In Like Flynn 17-07

    Right, so I had two main issues to deal with right now. First, we had to figure out which Paige was the real one. Which was bound to be all sorts of fun, because that sort of thing was always such a blast in the movies. And second, I had to figure out how I was going to stop the fake one from blurting out all my secrets the second we knew who she was. It might look suspicious if I just kept putting black paint on her to make her stop talking. If she was just a virus program that copied Paige¡¯s form, we could delete her or something, right? Wait, would that be like killing? If Paige was a real person, what about a program that copied her? Was¨Cwhat were we supposed t¨Cyeah. That raised a whole new giant and incredibly complicated mess of questions.


    Apparently everyone else was just as confused as me, because no one said anything for a few long, incredibly tense seconds following Pack asking how we were going to figure out who was who. We all just stood there, gazes snapping back and forth between one another. I could practically hear the dramatic, tension-filled music in the background.


    Finally, it was, well, one of the Paiges who broke the silence. ¡°How did you all get in here?¡± Her voice was brittle, like she was right on the edge of really freaking out. Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing if that was because she was the real Paige who had been forced to fight for her life for several days, or the fake one who was about to have her chance to kill and replace the real one taken away from her. Too bad my powers didn¡¯t include some kind of truth-forcing paint.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Matrix thing, or a Tron thing,¡± Way replied before I could speak up. ¡°Whatever. Tech girl linked us into your computer and sent us in here to help you. They¡­ they said you sent a message asking for help. Or the real one did, whoever you are.¡±


    Of course, both identical girls immediately declared that they were the real one. Unsurprisingly, there was no way to tell which of them was lying. This whole thing was going to be just as complicated as I¡¯d thought. I had spent the past couple minutes frantically trying to think of how to deal with this, but had come up utterly blank.


    Also, we were all still standing partway in water. I was up to my knees, while the others were only up to their shins or so. Because on top of everything else, I was still really freaking short.


    While I was still focused on that (the identifying the right Paige thing, not the being short and standing in water thing), one of the ¡®twins¡¯ turned her attention toward Peyton. ¡°Who the hell is that? If she¡¯s someone new, my father could have¨C¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not from your father. Or Paige¡¯s father, whatever.¡± My head shook. ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s a long story, but she has nothing to do with your dad.¡±


    ¡°Uh, hi!¡± Peyton herself piped up. ¡°My name¡¯s Alloy. I enjoy old movies, racing simulators, and listening to people talking about me like I¡¯m not here. So, you know, feel free to continue.¡±


    Way spoke, her voice tense as she glanced around. ¡°Whatever we¡¯re doing, we need to do it now. Before more of those security things show up. I don¡¯t feel like going through round three.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t bother you here,¡± one of the Paiges informed us. ¡°As long as you¡¯re with me¨C¡±


    The other Paige quickly interrupted. ¡°As long as you¡¯re with me, the security drones won¡¯t attack.¡± Her eyes narrowed pointedly toward her identical duplicate. ¡°Which gives us time to deal with this.¡±


    Like people watching a tennis match, our eyes bounced back to the previous Paige as she glowered while retorting, ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to be dealt with. Dad thought he could use you to replace me? Well, he¡¯s wrong. Dad¡¯s staying right there on that fucking prison island where he belongs. He¡¯s a fucking psychopath who deserves to be right there on Breakwater forever.¡±


    In the background, I heard Alloy make a noise in the back of her throat. But she didn¡¯t say anything. Instead, the girl gestured and a couple of her marbles transformed into a flat surface about as long and wide as a surfboard, with a narrow set of stairs leading up to it. She climbed out of the water, shaking her legs out before folding her arms. ¡°Can we please go back to solid ground while we figure out which one of these is Dark Samus? I don¡¯t know whose idea it was to make this place so realistic it even smells like a dirty old lake, but they did a fantastic job. I hate it.¡±


    Slowly, we all made our way out of the water. Mars Bar brought up the rear, keeping wary eyes on the two identical figures who were pointedly glaring at one another. It was clear that they were half a second and a single word away from lunging at each other¡¯s throats again. They¡¯d been fighting in here for days, and while both were obviously some form of exhausted (if you could even get exhausted in this particular situation), I didn¡¯t think either of them would hesitate to go right back to trying to drown one another. And I was still confused as to how that worked.


    Once we were back on dry land, That-A-Way pivoted to face the two duplicates. ¡°Okay!¡± she announced, ¡°Let¡¯s figure this out right now. Look, one of you is the real Paige, and the other one is being used by¡­ by your father to try to kill the first just so he can put you back under his control. Whichever of you is the copy, is that really something you want? Do you want to be some kind of slave under that psychopath¡¯s control? Does that sound like fun?¡±


    Folding her arms pointedly, Pack added, ¡°Yeah. For one thing, what do you think he¡¯s going to do with a second version of you annoying him or wanting to do your own thing? Even if you succeed at this and take over this chick, what makes you think this guy won¡¯t have a third version of you ready to pop in anytime you so much as have a different opinion? Do you really think he¡¯ll go through all this to make a copy he can use to take over now, and then politely hash things out the next time? You¡¯re willing to be his lapdog right now, but what¡¯s going to happen the second you want to do something else? Or do you really think you¡¯ll be satisfied taking marching orders from some crazy guy on an island? Oh, right, he probably wants you to help him get off that island, huh? Do you think you¡¯ll survive something like that?¡±


    From where I was standing, I quickly put in, ¡°Do you think he cares if you survive it?¡±


    One of the Paiges spoke up tensely. ¡°Believe me, I spent the past few days trying to tell her that. She won¡¯t listen. She thinks my dad is going to make her the real Roxanne, as if he¡¯d let anyone be her. As if he¡¯s even capable of caring about one of us like that.¡±


    Before any of us could say anything to that, the other Paige snarled, ¡°No, I tried to tell you that. Because I¡¯m Paige, and you¡¯re the duplicate. They¡¯re going to figure that out, and as soon as they do, you¡¯re¨C¡±


    ¡°Hold it!¡± I finally managed to cut in, my gaze snapping back and forth between them. ¡°Who the hell is Roxanne? What is¨Cwhat¡¯s¨Cwhat?¡± Yeah, it wasn¡¯t exactly a coherent series of questions, but hey, could you blame me? This whole thing was completely crazy. I was just glad I¡¯d somehow managed to sound even that clear with the way this whole situation was going.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Way sounded pretty confused too, frowning as she echoed, ¡°who is Roxanne?¡±


    Unfortunately, before either Paige could answer, everything around us suddenly shimmered and changed. We weren¡¯t standing at the edge of a pond near the farmhouse anymore. Instead, we were all on a perfectly maintained grassy lawn next to a fountain. Straight ahead of me, I could see an intricate flower garden that looked similar to those at my own home. Actually, all of this looked similar to my own home. The grass, the fountain, the flowers, all of it could¡¯ve been in my own backyard.


    Of course, that particular thought made me gasp as my head snapped to the side to look toward the building in the distance that I¡¯d caught a glimpse of out of the corner of my eye. I expected to see my own house looming over all of us. But while there was a great looming mansion, it wasn¡¯t my family¡¯s. And it wasn¡¯t some pseudo-replica either. It looked very different. Smaller, for one. And it wasn¡¯t Paige¡¯s adopted family¡¯s place either. It didn¡¯t look similar enough to either of those, aside from the fact that it was a mansion. And yet, there was still something deeply familiar about the place. Staring at it, a sense of warm familiarity filled me. But also a feeling of deep, horrible dread. There was something very bad about this place, and I really didn¡¯t want to be here. An animalistic, instinctive part of me wanted to run away right then. It wanted me to get away as fast as possible, not caring about anyone else who was here. I just wanted to leave. Seeing that house made me instinctively whimper just a little under my breath before I even realized what I was doing. In the end, it was all I could do to stay right there where I was, planting my feet firmly. I didn¡¯t care how afraid this house made me. I wasn¡¯t running away.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Belatedly, I realized what this place was. This was Anthony Tate¡¯s house, right? It had to be. That was the only thing that made sense. The memories of being Anthony¡¯s friend, and of what had eventually happened to him and his family, had been erased from my mind. But some part of me still remembered, still reacted to seeing this house. Which made me wonder just how bad my reaction here would have been if I actually remembered everything about all that.


    Alloy was the first to find her voice as she turned in a circle, marbles floating around her head, ¡°Okay, first we¡¯re in some super-elite private school for wealthy spawn, then on a farm, and now we¡¯re standing in front of some rich guy¡¯s fucking house? What the hell is going on? Why did everything change this time? Why are we here now? Who the hell decided to flip this switch?¡±


    ¡°She did.¡± The answer came in a chorus from both Paiges, each of them glowering at the other. Though they had to do that peering over the head and shoulders of Mars Bar, who had lumbered up on all fours to put himself between them while we were distracted. Clearly, he took the job he¡¯d been given to guard them very seriously. When we got out of here, I was going to give both him and Riddles (who was still soaring overhead playing lookout) all the treats Pack would allow.


    ¡°Look, it was her,¡± one of the Paiges insisted. ¡°She¡¯s playing games, controlling things in here.¡±


    ¡°We both control this place,¡± the other Paige snapped. ¡°And I didn¡¯t change the scene.¡±


    Looking from one Paige to the oth¨Cokay I was just going to think of them as One and¨Cno, if I thought of them as One and Two, It would influence which one I saw as the original. I had to think of them by completely even names. So, I raised both hands, shooting a burst of green paint onto one and a burst of blue paint onto the other. The paint covered the front of both of their shirts in a large blotch as I announced, ¡°Okay, for now, we call you Green and you Blue.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Way announced, ¡°Would either Green or Blue like to say anything that could give us an idea of which one is the real one so we can get out of here? Seriously, whichever one of you is¡­ not Paige, the guy you¡¯re so intent on working for obviously isn¡¯t going to be that loyal to you. Look what he¡¯s doing to his own daughter. Do you really think he cares about you?¡±


    I was watching the two carefully, trying to pinpoint when one of them looked as though she might want to argue about that. The real Paige hated her father. So, the second one of them looked as though she might want to defend him, that was the fa¡­ wait. Hold on a minute.


    Half-expecting a light bulb to have literally popped to life above my head (hey you never knew in a place like this), I started to blurt, ¡°Hang on, I think we¡¯re going about this the wrong way. If¨C¡±


    Unfortunately, that was as far as I got before my words were interrupted by the loud and piercing sound of Riddles shrieking from up in the sky. Which was followed immediately by gunfire from far off on the distant side of the ground, behind a building next to a tennis court. It wasn¡¯t aimed at us, but rather, at the lizard-eagle herself. As bullets filled the air, she took a screaming, dangerously steep and fast dive toward the ground to escape it, only for that scream to turn into a pained cry as one of the bullets clipped her wing before she could get out of sight, causing her to start spiraling uncontrollably.


    ¡°Riddles!¡± Pack screamed, sounding horrified and panicked. I didn¡¯t blame her for not remembering in that instant that even if any of us, including the lizards, were killed in here, it wouldn¡¯t translate to the outside world. With that cry, she was already starting to sprint to the spot where the crumpled figure was plummeting.


    That-A-Way, however, was faster with her teleportation. She vanished from where she was standing, appeared in the air to catch Riddles and tuck the bird-lizard against her chest, then teleported a few feet further ahead and back to the ground. Then she turned back the other way just in time for Pack to get there and take her little friend into her own arms.


    One sort-of crisis averted for the moment. That still left the main problem, which was the fact that the sources of Riddles being shot were coming into view from around the sides of that building by the tennis court. Namely, a whole bunch of very nasty-looking bad guys in what appeared to be military uniforms. They were carrying assault rifles and other weapons, and really did not look as though they had any interest in blending into the actual scene that they were supposed to be a part of anymore. They looked more like they should have been storming the streets of Rome back when the Fell-Touched Ambit and Giuf¨¤ had teamed up with their own private armies to take the whole city over for a few days about ten years back. Raising that kind of army was a pretty simple thing to do when your powers involved everyone believing that no matter where you were or what you were saying, you belonged there and knew what you were talking about in the case of Ambit. Or, in Giuf¨¤¡¯s case, forcing everyone to think that anything you did, no matter how horrible, was funny. Even if you were the person he was torturing to death.


    The point was, the soldiers running toward us could have been part of the assortment of troops who had been sent in to deal with the army those guys had put together back then. They were heavily armed, and clearly weren¡¯t interested in stopping to ask any questions. The second they saw Pack and That-A-Way when coming around the building, all twenty or so of them immediately took aim and started to fire. I was already shouting a warning (joined by Mars Bar, who was still obediently guarding Blue and Green but issued a pants-wetting roar to join my shout). In the midst of that, I raised both hands to shoot orange paint that way. But, just like before, my aim went wide, missing entirely. Which was just fucking fantastic.


    Fortunately, Way had already reacted by turning to the east while yanking Pack close. That direction triggered her invulnerability, and the thick hail of bullets ricocheted off them. For the moment, they were safe. But those guys were still sprinting toward them, and Pack had an injured lizard-bird in her arms.


    I was about to launch myself that way, mouth open to blurt for Alloy to watch the two Paiges with Mars Bar. But before I could, even as I formed the blue paint beneath my feet, the girl was already shouting a warning at me. A warning about something else besides the small army of guys with guns charging around the tennis court. Namely, the small army of guys with guns charging out of the nearby mansion. Yeah, because obviously we weren¡¯t dealing with enough problems as it was, there were a dozen or so well-armed soldiers coming right out of that building too. And they were already taking aim at us.


    ¡°Alloy!¡± I blurted while lunging forward. Painting orange over myself for protection, I leapt over the low wall that the other girl turned her marbles into. The wall was semicircular and shielded herself as well as the two Paiges. And Mars Bar, who dropped down a bit on his haunches to be behind it while the deafening sound of bullets rebounding off that joined the sound of bullets rebounding off of Pack and That-A-Way in the distance.


    Landing on my feet while bullets collided with my orange-painted body in a way that I knew would have left me sore and bruised if any of this had been real, I quickly sprayed as wide of a burst of blue paint as I could from one hand, and an equally wide burst of red paint from the other. As soon as I had covered as many of the troops as I could, I activated all of it at once. Instantly, they were all yanked toward each other by the red paint, slammed together, repelled by the blue paint out several feet, yanked back in again by red paint, then slammed apart, and so on. It was complete chaos for a few seconds. Which would¡¯ve been great. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t solve the problem. Mostly because there were still more troops coming from around and out of the building, who looked fresh, armed, and pretty pissed off.


    Suffice to say, we were all doing just great. This really was just the perfect situation. Pack and That-A-Way were trapped on the far side of the yard, pinned down by the rapidly approaching troops from that direction. Meanwhile, I had Alloy, Mars Bar, and both the version of Paige who had bullied and insulted me for years but didn¡¯t want me to die, and the version of Paige I had literally just met but did want me to die. I could hear Alloy herself demanding to know which of them had summoned the armed troops, but they both sounded genuinely confused while shouting back that this shouldn¡¯t be happening.


    Were they both telling the truth? Was this neither of them? I had to consider that, and how to approach actually talking to not only the real Paige, but the other one too. Because that was the thing I had figured out moments earlier and had been about to say before this sudden interruption. If we were going to get through this without everything getting screwed up, I couldn¡¯t think of the two girls here as one being Paige as the other being some virus that just had to be erased. If Paige herself was considered a real person as a thinking, conscious human mind inside a computer, then the mind that had been put in here with her could be one too. Yeah, she did what her creator/father told her to. But what other choice did she have? What other choice had we actually presented to her, besides pointing out that her father would kill her as easily as he did Paige? As far as she knew, we were simply going to delete her the first chance we got anyway. So yeah, maybe she knew that she couldn¡¯t trust the man in the long run. But at least if she sided with him, it would give her time to think of something to deal with anything else he did when the time came.


    So, all I had to do was help beat all these guys here, help Pack and That-A-Way deal with their guys, keep both Paiges under control, survive without being killed so I wouldn¡¯t have to start this entire thing over again, and then convince the newer version of Paige that we could figure out some alternative so that neither of them had to die. Oh, and convince her that I was more trustworthy than their father. And I had to do all of that without letting her expose my real identity. Well, I thought as the approaching troops came sprinting toward me while raising their weapons to take aim, I sure hope I don¡¯t get bored in here.

 In Like Flynn 17-08

    So yeah, between the troops on the ground, who were still picking themselves up after being slammed together multiple times, and the ones who were approaching at a run, I had plenty of problems to deal with. To say nothing of the guys coming from behind, whom Pack and Way were hopefully handling. Please be handling them, because I couldn¡¯t spare time to look.


    Instead, I immediately launched myself in a blue-assisted leap toward the troops I had knocked down. My hands shot a line of red to two different guys while I sailed over all of their heads. Flipping over in the air, I landed smoothly on my feet while facing their backs. In the next instant, I activated the red paint on those two guys, as well as what I had put on my gloves. The two of them were yanked toward me, but the other guys were in the way, still picking themselves up. They all collided together once more before hitting the ground in a newly-tangled heap.


    The next thing I knew, two of Alloy¡¯s marbles came flying in, reshaping themselves to look like spears as they stabbed down through the mass of bodies repeatedly. With each thrust, one of the virtual soldiers vanished. Which helped them start to extract themselves, but it was too late. The marble-spears were very quick at stabbing, like pistons in a machine slamming up and down repeatedly, mechanically, taking out a different guy with each downward motion.


    Not that I had much time to see more than a moment of it. The second I saw that Alloy had that in hand, I was already spinning toward the troops who had come running in as reinforcements. But they weren¡¯t taking aim at me. They weren¡¯t paying any attention to me at all, actually. Alloy was in their path, quickly reshaping one of her other marbles into a shield. But even as a brief panicked thought came that they were focusing on the one whose spears were killing their companions, they rushed right through and over her as well. One, then another slammed into her, followed by a third. But they weren¡¯t attacking, they were practically acting like she wasn¡¯t even there. She was a speed bump, whom they slammed into and knocked to the ground  before continuing on past. Peyton was left yelping and curling into a ball before one of her marbles turned into a cocoon of sorts to cover her as the troops stampeded over her.


    And what, pray tell, were these guys so focused on? The answer came to me even as I put green lightning bolts across my legs and took off in a sprint. Paige. They didn¡¯t give a shit about us. These¨Cthese guys weren¡¯t like the ones we¡¯d fought earlier. They weren¡¯t making even the slightest token effort to blend into the actual surroundings. They were¨Cthey weren¡¯t guarding Paige, they were attacking her. Because of the other Paige? But if she could do that this whole time, if she could call up an army to attack the original, why wait until now to do it?


    Actually, come to think of it, why were they bothering to attack her? What would that sort of thing do? The two Paiges had been fighting for days now without any result. Would these guys hurting her help the other one take over and control the body? Was that how it worked?


    Those thoughts flashed through my mind even as I ran two, three, four steps at a diagonal angle to put myself in line with the lead guy, the one who was already raising his rifle to take aim at one of the Paiges, both of whom were being pinned to the ground under each of Mars Bars¡¯ front paws. But just as I was about to interject myself, something hit me from the side. Or rather, someone. A random soldier had crashed into me, swinging his rifle to collide with the side of my helmet hard enough to knock me to the ground with the guy on top of me. Instantly, I painted my arms purple and jerked myself free, catching hold of the fake soldier by the neck and twisting hard. I felt something there crack as I started to hurl the man away from me, but he vanished. In my panic about what would happen to Paige while I was distracted, I¡¯d actually ¡®killed¡¯ him. It. The computer program. It wasn¡¯t real. I didn¡¯t kill anyone.


    Those thoughts ran through my head even as I rolled to one knee, trying desperately to be quick enough to fling myself in the path of the lead soldier. But it wasn¡¯t necessary, because Mars Bar was still there. Before the soldier could fire, the enormous iguana-bear lunged forward, raising one of those same frying pan paws to lash out. He didn¡¯t just knock the rifle out of the man¡¯s hand, he knocked the man himself to the ground with so much force the guy actually vanished in a few sparks of light. An instant later, the second guy who took aim met the same fate as the first, as Mars Bar threw himself into the middle of the group, snapping with his teeth and swinging both front limbs. He was a wild dervish of devastation, utterly destroying every soldier he came in contact with. They shot at him, but none of their bullets seemed to do much more than annoy the bear. Which just made him kill them even harder, his sustained roar filling the air.


    Still, the troops barely seemed to notice. They certainly weren¡¯t worried about fighting back very much. Instead, they scattered around, all of them focused solely on getting around Alloy¡¯s wall so they could take aim at one of the Paiges. That¨Cdid that answer who the real one was? The thought that the mystery had so suddenly and easily been solved was accompanied by a mix of confusion and panic about what would happen if they actually killed her. If that was even possible. All I really knew was that I really didn¡¯t want to find out.


    The Paige who was sitting there, right in plain sight, was a sitting duck. Both of them were being pinned to the ground by a bar that extended from the wall. Clearly Alloy hadn¡¯t wanted them to try to kill each other while we were distracted. Unfortunately, right now the only thing it was doing was keeping the original Paige trapped and unable to move while the guards took aim. Two of them had managed to evade the wrath of Mars Bar and get around the wall, one on either side. Even as I saw them taking aim, I was already back on my feet, painting most of my chest purple for strength as I flung myself at the nearest one. His gun was aimed down at the Paige on the right, but I managed to catch hold of him by the waist and arm, yanking his aim out of the way just as he pulled the trigger. The shot went off into the distance, while I picked the man up with a grunt before hurling him over to crash into the other soldier, who was aiming at¡­ the other Paige? Yes, confusing as it was, both of these guys were clearly aiming at different Paiges.


    Did¡­ did that mean the other Paige wasn¡¯t controlling them? If she was, there was no way she¡¯d have one of them try to shoot her, right? That didn¡¯t even make sense. They wanted to kill the original Paige so the new one could take over. That was the entire reason she and they were here. So why the hell would they be targeting both of them? Just what the fuck was going on? Because I was clearly missing something.


    Missing more than one thing, apparently, since a shout from Alloy abruptly warned me about another three guys who were trying to attack Paige¨Ccorrection, trying to attack both Paiges. Yeah, now that I was watching for it, it was obvious. These soldiers were clearly aiming at each of them. My new partner dealt with the one furthest away from me by literally diving into him after launching herself off the board she had created. She and the guy went down in a heap.


    Which left me with a couple seconds left of purple paint. I used those two seconds to lunge over and grab the outstretched arm of the nearest soldier with one hand before slapping my hand against his chest to leave a spot of blue there. With that, I twisted to hurl him as hard as I could into the other. But just before they hit, I managed to quickly shoot another blob of blue paint, this time onto the chest of the second guy. Somehow, I restrained myself from doing a victory dance when I actually hit my damn target for once. Granted, it wasn¡¯t exactly where I was aiming, but it was still on him and that was good enough. When the pair collided, they were sent rocketing in opposite directions.


    And yet, that wasn¡¯t all of them. Mars Bar was dealing with the worst, and he was clearly super-motivated and angry. His owner wanted him to guard the Paiges and he was damned sure going to do that while she was busy. That was one angry lizard-bear.


    ¡°What¡¯re they doing?!¡± Alloy was right beside me. I could hear the panic in her voice as her gaze darted around. The wall she had formed broke itself down so that all four marbles that weren¡¯t part of her armor could orbit her head. ¡°Which one are they trying to kill?!¡±


    ¡°Both of them!¡± I blurted while quickly snapping my gaze over to where the Paiges had both been released. But¡­ but they weren¡¯t moving. Like, at all. Despite the fact that there was supposedly nothing holding them in place anymore, and the huge lizard-bear was no longer looming over them, the two were still lying there, staring off into the distance toward the house.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    We weren¡¯t under immediate assault for the moment, but I had no doubt that more were on their way. A quick (and frantic) glance over my shoulder showed that Pack and That-A-Way had things over there pretty well in hand, thankfully. They were dealing with the last of the troops coming from that direction, at least for the moment.


    ¡°Cover me!¡± I blurted toward Alloy, before darting over to where the two Paiges were. Dropping to my knees between them, I tried to grab one by the arm to pull her up. ¡°Come on! We¡¯ve gotta go!¡± But she didn¡¯t move, and I couldn¡¯t budge her myself. She was locked to the ground, as if she had been welded there. I had no more luck with the other Paige. Even giving myself a little bit of purple for help didn¡¯t accomplish anything, and I was afraid of what would happen if I pulled even harder. Both of them were simply staring off into the distance. They didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t speak, they didn¡¯t do anything other than lay there with their heads up, gazes locked onto nothing. They weren¡¯t even blinking, or showing any acknowledgement that I was there. Did someone turn them off or something? What the hell was going on? Snapping my head up, I looked around desperately, searching for an answer. But there was nothing. Mars Bar was bellowing a challenge toward several more troops, who started to open fire at him. Quickly, I shot a line of orange paint to help the big bear out. The bullets, which hadn¡¯t been doing too much to him before, did even less now. I could almost hear the smile in Mars Bar¡¯s heavy growl as he rocked from side to side, then took off running at the group as fast as he could. It was like he knew he only had a limited time of being invulnerable and wanted to get as much out of it as possible.


    Meanwhile, I still didn¡¯t know what the hell was going on with the Paiges or why they were just laying there, frozen against the ground. Desperate confusion, I turned my head to look the same way the two of them were staring. I even dropped down to see it from their angle. The house, they were just looking at the house. This was dumb, they¡¯d just been frozen like that. There was nothing to see, nothing t¨Cwait. I was looking that way, there was a flash of blue light from one of the upper windows. Squinting closer, I saw the light flash again. There was a¡­ a camera or something there. A device. There was some kind of device sitting there, aimed down directly at the two Paiges. Was that thing the reason they were frozen? That had it to be it, right? The two of them had detected the thing powering up or whatever, and looked that way reflexively just in time to be frozen. Right, that was it. At least, I hoped it was, because I didn¡¯t have any other ideas. And we weren¡¯t exactly drowning in time here.


    With that in mind, I snapped my head over to blurt toward Alloy. ¡°Keep these guys safe! I¡¯ll be right back!¡± With that, I was already painting my legs green and sprinting toward the house. Raising an arm, I shot a line of red towards the side of the window in question. Of course, it was far enough away that what I actually hit was several feet to the side of the window. But at least it was close enough to yank me that way. I didn¡¯t have time to fret again about why I suddenly could barely hit the broadside of a barn. Instead, I focused my gaze on the window as I was sent flying that way. The device was more visible now. It basically looked like a telescope, with some extra features attached. The window itself was closed, so apparently it only needed line of sight with the target. Which¨Cwell, I could deal with that. In mid-flight, I sent a blob of black paint that way, covering the window entirely just before I hit the wall a few feet away. The gravity-tech in my boots kept me stuck perfectly, crouched against the wall like it was a floor.


    A second later, the sound of shattering glass filled the air as a fist punched through the window from the inside. Someone was in there with the device, and they didn¡¯t like its line of sight being blocked. Good, I should introduce myself. Because if they didn¡¯t want the device covered, I was clearly on the right track.


    On the other hand, I had no doubt that whoever it was already knew I was there and was waiting for me to show myself again. After all, I hadn¡¯t exactly been subtle in my approach. They were probably ready and waiting for me to poke my head in. So, I didn¡¯t. Instead, I planted one hand against the wall next to the window and painted a pink circle about a foot across. Kneeling there against the wall, I painted my fist purple and punched into that pink circle as hard as I could. It popped right out, and I withdrew my fist in time to see a man on the other side next to the telescope-thing. Sure enough, he was standing there with a shotgun raised, just waiting for me to show myself. Before he could react and adjust his aim, I shot a blob of red against him while my other hand shot an identical blob out into the yard. Activating both sent him flying through the already broken window, where he crashed down onto the grass.


    With the way clear, I swung myself in through the window and landed next to the weird device. After briefly staring at it, I shrugged and grabbed the thing in both hands. I still had enough strength boost left to bend it until the thing snapped under the pressure, breaking in half. Then I tossed it aside and quickly looked back the way I had come.


    It worked. A moment after the thing was broken, I could see both Paiges jerk as if they had been physically shocked. An instant later, they were back on their feet, spinning toward each other just as Alloy quickly put herself between them, with her marbles forming into two shields and two swords. There were no other bad guys in sight. In the distance, I could see Pack and That-A-Way running to join the others, while Mars Bar lumbered back while looking very satisfied with himself.


    Before the Paiges could launch themselves at each other, Alloy or no Alloy, I red-painted myself that way and landed right next to my new teammate (And God was that ever still a weird thing to think). The second my feet touched the ground, I raised both hands. ¡°Wait! Just wait a minute. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on here, but you guys were both being attacked by those people.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alloy put in, ¡°Why don¡¯t both of you just wait a minute before you try to kill each other.¡± As she said that, the two enormous swords lowered and moved forward, tips pointing close to each Paige as though warning them not to start attacking. I wasn¡¯t sure how much good that would do if either of them really wanted to go for it, but they didn¡¯t move for the moment.


    The other two girls had reached us by that point, and I saw that Riddles wasn¡¯t there. Catching my gaze, Pack flatly announced, ¡°I sent her out. She was hurt.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was walking over to embrace Mars Bar tightly, while he made deep growly noises that sounded like he was comforting her. Obviously, Riddles being hurt wasn¡¯t real, but it had still affected her.


    Meanwhile, Way moved closer and looked from me to the Paiges and back again. Her voice was terse. ¡°Those guys weren¡¯t the same as the ones before.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed. ¡°And there¡¯ll probably be more pretty soon.¡± That said, I turned to the identical pair myself. ¡°Look, like I just said, those guys were trying to kill both of you. I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯s possible to kill you in here, what they were trying to accomplish, or who sent them. I mean, I have a pretty good idea on that last part, I¡¯m just not sure how or why. Point is, they didn¡¯t care which one of you was the original and which wasn¡¯t. They were going to kill you both. So, whichever one of you is the intruder¨C¡±


    Abruptly, one of the Paiges (the one with green paint on) simply turned away from the large sword that was still hovering there, pointed at her, and faced us. ¡°That would be me,¡± she announced, like she was telling us the weather. As we stared at her, she nodded. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m the new one. Our dad sent me in here to take over, because that one fucked up.¡±


    ¡°You wanna see a fuck-up, you¨C¡± The Paige with blue paint¨Cthe real Paige apparently, started to lunge around the sword. But Pack and That-A-Way each caught one of her arms.


    ¡°Wait, wait, hold on!¡± I quickly blurted, stepping that way. ¡°Paige¡­ and uhh, Not-Paige, it was your dad, right? He sent those soldier guys in here uhh, somehow.¡±


    ¡°They came with her,¡± Paige informed us in a flat voice, glaring toward her duplicate. ¡°They¡¯re a failsafe for the failsafe. She was supposed to take over, but as soon as it looked like that might not happen, the second failsafe triggered. Now they want to wipe both of us out completely.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that about sums it up,¡± Not Paige agreed. ¡°Dad said he trusted me. He said I was the perfect version of his daughter. Apparently, he was full of shit.¡±


    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a real shocker,¡± Paige muttered darkly.


    The two of them glared at each other briefly before Not Paige snapped her gaze to me. Her gaze was calculating, clearly trying to decide exactly what to say. Finally, she gave a slight, humorless smile. A predatory smile. It was the same sort of expression I¡¯d seen so many times when Paige was about to say something horrible and insulting to me.


    Rather than an insult, however, Not Paige simply announced, ¡°I told you who I was as a gesture of good will. Cuz suddenly, I don¡¯t really care as much about what Dad wanted. Funny how that works. He programmed those things to kill me as soon as I took too long. And since they were already here, I¡¯m pretty sure they would¡¯ve jumped in the second he thought they needed to anyway. So fuck him. I mean, I don¡¯t give a shit about any of you people either, but fuck him in particular right now. I¨C¡±


    Abruptly, both Paige and her duplicate turned, their gazes snapping over to stare into the distance.


    ¡°What?¡± Way demanded after a moment of silence. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Paige answered. ¡°It was a distraction. The rest of his troops are going for the core. That¡¯s why they haven¡¯t attacked again. They¡¯re trying to get to the core and shut me down.¡±


    ¡°Shut us down,¡± the other girl snapped. ¡°And if they do that, you¡¯ll never get us started up again. We¡¯ll be a fucking lead paperweight. They¡¯ll wipe both of us out of existence. Like a bullet to the back of the head. For a normal person, I mean.


    ¡°So what the fuck are we standing around waiting for?¡±

 In Like Flynn 17-09

    Paige, the real Paige that was, turned to me with an exasperated look. ¡°You can¡¯t seriously think that you can trust her. Come on, Paintball, don¡¯t be naive. She was sent by my dad to erase me, to replace me. Do you really think she¡¯ll just give up on that? She¡¯s like his golden child or whatever. She just wants to get all of us to lower our guards so she can find a way to take over again and prove that she¡¯s worth keeping around. The whole thing is a trick. I bet she¡¯s actually in control of those guys after all, and would¡¯ve made something else happen to stop them from killing her if none of you had. She¡¯s playing games with you, with all of us.¡±


    Offering her a helpless shrug, I pointed out, ¡°She didn¡¯t have to reveal who she was. She could¡¯ve kept that going. Why switch to a different mind game like that unless they really were trying to kill her? Now we know which one she is and which one you are.¡± Through that whole bit, I was silently reminding myself that Paige really was the one on my side. Actually, come to think of it, being face to face with two Paiges like this was basically straight out of my nightmares. Or it would¡¯ve been not that long ago. It was still a whole thing, and separating ¡®good Paige¡¯ from ¡®bad Paige¡¯ was a real mindblower just for ¡®good Paige¡¯ existing at all.


    Maybe that made it easier for me to accept that this other Paige was possibly telling the truth. If I had to shut down my suspicions of the regular Paige herself so much just to accept that one of them could be on my side, I might as well accept that the other one was telling the truth now.


    Beside me, Alloy piped up with, ¡°I mean, it sounds to me like she¡¯s just trying to save her own skin, right? Err, whatever the digital version of that is, I guess. Point is, she doesn¡¯t wanna die, so we can all work together to keep the ¡®not dying¡¯ thing going for both of you. Then work from there, right? ¡±


    From where she was standing next to Mars Bar, Pack put in, ¡°I hate to point out the obvious, but we really don¡¯t have time to bat this back-and-forth. If those guys are trying to reformat this chick¡¯s entire harddrive, we better get there before they do. You can bitch and argue about the rest of the shit later.¡±


    Way was nodding. ¡°She¡¯s right, we don¡¯t have time for any of this. Can you two get us to the core? And how do we stop these guys permanently in the first place?¡±


    Green (Not-Paige) gave a feral smirk. ¡°Control of this place is kind of split between both of us playing tug-of-war. Between that and Dad¡®s invasion force, we don¡¯t exactly have a firm grip on anything. But if you help us get to the core and let both of us plug into it, I¡¯m pretty sure we can shut them out. You know, working together.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was giving a sly look toward her doppelg?nger.


    Paige looked like she had a few choice words to say about that, but Way interrupted. ¡°Great, we¡¯ll figure out the rest later. Let¡¯s just do this before we end up losing both of you.¡±


    ¡°Oh good,¡± Green drawled lazily. ¡°I love working together. We can all be friends who keep each other¡®s secrets.¡± She wasn¡¯t looking at me when she said that, but she really didn¡¯t need to. I knew exactly what she was saying.


    ¡°So, sis,¡± she added with a humorless smile, ¡°you wanna take the shortcut?¡± As she asked that, the girl was extending her hand that way. ¡°With all this interference from Daddy¡®s invasion, it¡¯s going to take both of us to control a shift like that instead of just randomly jumping from place to place.¡±


    Again, it was obvious that the real Paige had a lot of things she wanted to say. But even as her mouth opened, I saw her head cock a little to the side as though listening to something. Whatever she heard or sensed must have been pretty bad, because her mouth snapped shut and she simply gave a short nod before reaching out to grab her twin¡¯s hand.


    ¡°You all might wanna get close,¡± Green murmured. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to accidentally leave anyone behind.¡±


    Still unsure if we could trust this girl any further than Wren could¡¯ve thrown her without any invention assistance, all of us squeezed in close. I felt a weird heat rippling through the air around us while both identical figures glared at one another. It really looked as though they would just as soon rip each other¡®s throats out than work together. But, somehow they restrained themselves.


    The air grew even hotter over the next few seconds, to the point of almost being painful. It never quite got that far, but it was definitely uncomfortable. I briefly wondered if this was actually a trick after all and we were all about to be incinerated.


    But, with a sudden flash of light and an abrupt, dramatic twisting in my stomach, we were suddenly somewhere completely different. Different, and yet also incredibly familiar.


    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± Alloy was looking around before her gaze centered on the massive structure in front of us. ¡°What happened? Did the mansion just change?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a different mansion,¡± That-A-Way informed her in a voice that sounded just as confused, even if for other reasons. ¡°Haven¡¯t you seen all the billboards and magazine covers?¡± Turning to face the enormous building that I had been silently staring at the whole time, she quietly noted, ¡°That¡¯s the Evanses¡¯ place.¡±


    Mars Bar made a confused grumbling sound, and Pack nodded. ¡°He¡¯s right, what the fuck is going on? What¡¯s with the grand tour of all the rich people places? What do the Evanses have to do with any of this?¡±


    It was Green who answered, without even glancing in my direction. ¡°Dad always wanted to be them. Always wanted to be even more successful and powerful. Of course he made our core be the center of their power. Plus, you know, the man wants to cure death. You don¡¯t get as far as he has with that goal without being pretty arrogant. Putting the center of operations in the house that represents a couple of the most successful people in the state? That just makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Alloy managed, ¡°did you just say he wants to cure death?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± I informed her flatly before turning my attention back to the house. My house, or a simulation of it. This was all getting way too close to home, quite literally. ¡°So, we get in there and get you guys plugged into the core thing, whatever that is. But where are the invaders? Tell me they¡¯re not already inside.¡±


    Paige shook her head, turning to look down toward the front gate (where I half-expected to see familiar guards patrolling). ¡°We took a shortcut. But they¡¯re coming. They¡¯ll be here any minute.¡±


    Cracking her neck (was that even necessary), Green casually asked, ¡°So who¡¯s going inside to help us get plugged in, and make sure we don¡¯t kill each other? Cuz the rest of you are gonna have to stay out here and make sure those guys don¡¯t interrupt. This could take a few minutes, and something tells me they¡¯ll be hitting this place pretty hard as soon as they figure out what we¡¯re doing.¡±


    From the look on her face, Paige wanted to argue just for the sake of arguing, but she clearly knew her twin was right. With the faintest nod, she muttered, ¡°They¡¯ll come from that way, but you¡¯ll have to stop them from spreading out. We need someone in the house watching our backs just in case, but most of you should stay out here.¡±


    Yeah, it wasn¡¯t even a question really, and I didn¡¯t need any further prompting than the very subtle glance she sent to me. Immediately, I announced, ¡°I¡¯ll go in with Paige and¡­¡± Trailing off, I looked toward the other girl. ¡°I¡¯ve been calling you Green, but do you¨C¡±


    ¡°I was gonna be Roxanne,¡± she interrupted, sounding thoughtful. ¡°You know, dear old Daddy¡¯s real daughter. But since he¡¯s decided to be a giant fucking jackass and try to erase me just for taking a few extra minutes, maybe I don¡¯t wanna carry on that legacy for him. I¡¯m not Roxanne, and I¡¯m certainly not Paige.¡± Those words came in a snarl as she looked to the girl in question. ¡°Why don¡¯t you call me something in between. How about¡­ Raige.¡± A smirk crossed her face briefly. ¡°Yeah. That sounds good.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t just call you Edgy McEdgerson?¡± Alloy piped up, before ducking back with a squeak when the girl in question squinted at her.


    Waving that off, I shook my head. ¡°Whatever. I¡¯ll go in with Paige and Raige. You guys stay here and protect the house. We¡¯ll get this done as soon as we can.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    That-A-Way looked like she wanted to object, raising a hand. But in the end, she sighed rather than argue. ¡°Just get it done. I¡¯ll save my questions for later.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and believe me, there will be questions,¡± Pack put in, resting a hand against Mars Bar while holding a gun that she had taken off one of the invading troops in the other hand.


    After taking a very brief moment to assure Alloy that she would be fine and all she had to do was stay with the others and watch their backs, I turned to the two identical blondes who were standing several feet away from each other. The tension between them was palpable. It was very clear that the only reason they weren¡¯t actively attacking one another was that they both needed each other to survive. I had no doubt that things were going to get complicated again once the invaders were eliminated. But we would have to deal with that later. One thing at a time.


    To that end, I walked right between them and moved toward the front door. Once there, I sprayed pink paint against the front door in a circle wide enough to put my hand through, then painted one arm purple so I could punch through that pink bit easily. If this place was built to be anything like the real house, kicking the door in wouldn¡¯t have worked. The door in the real world was built to stand up to much worse than that.


    This way, I was able to punch through the little hole and unlock the door from the other side before opening it. Turning back to the other two, I gestured. ¡°After you. So, where¡¯s this core thing? You guys are going to have to help me get through this freaking maze. Wait, tell me they don¡¯t actually have a hedge maze inside the house. Cuz I heard a rumor about that.¡±


    By that point, we were inside. Using her foot to idly kick the door shut again, Raige snorted with amusement. ¡°Good try at keeping your identity secret, babe. Have you been practicing?¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Paige snapped. She took my arm and pulled, keeping herself between me and her twin while starting to stalk through the front foyer, still addressing the other girl. ¡°Don¡¯t talk to her. Don¡¯t even look at her. You¡¯re the one who wanted to kill her for Dad.¡±


    ¡°And yet,¡± Raige pointed out while trailing behind us, ¡°you¡¯re still the one who treated her like shit for years. All that time in school being a bitch to her, making fun of how she looks, taunting her for not being classically beautiful like dear Mommy, or even the ¡®guys panting at our poster on the wall¡¯ example of sheer hotness that we are.¡± In an eager tone, she added, ¡°Gee, I wonder what kind of complicated feelings she has about that whole thing.¡±


    Growling under my breath despite myself, I snapped, ¡°She can talk for herself. Both of you stop. This seriously isn¡¯t getting us anywhere, and I¡¯m not in the mood to talk about any of it. Not with either of you. So let¡¯s just find that core thing and get you plugged in so we can get on with all of it. Tell me you know where it is, because I think we all know that this place is too big to search room to room.¡±


    ¡°We know where it is,¡± Paige informed me, already heading for the stairs. She had let go of my arm, but was still making sure that she stayed between me and her other self. There was definitely very little trust there. After a moment, she added, ¡°It¡¯s in your room. In your closet.¡±


    Sounding downright chipper, Raige put in, ¡°It¡¯s in the spot where old Paige here was hiding while she watched you get your memory wiped. She thinks if she¡¯d done something different that day, things would have been better. If she¡¯d stopped them from wiping your memory, or gotten you out of there and taken you somewhere¡­ whatever. That¡¯s where so much of her regrets and fears all boil together. So, it¡¯s a natural place for our core.¡±


    ¡°My core,¡± Paige snapped a bit testily, giving an icy look that way before starting up the stairs at a trot. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t matter why it¡¯s there. We just need to get to it and do this.¡±


    Halfway to my room, we all heard shouting start outside. Right, the invaders were here. Time to get on with this. We exchanged very brief looks before breaking into a run. Together, the three of us sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs to the right floor, and continued down the hall to the wing where my room was. As we approached the door, I put purple paint on my foot before lashing out to kick the whole thing in, not waiting to open it. Sure enough, the door flew off, admitting us into a reasonably accurate facsimile of my bedroom¡­ five years earlier. Yeah, the real thing had changed a decent bit in that time, but this version was clearly taken from back then.


    Oh, and there was one other pretty major difference. My closet door was open to reveal a glowing silver ball about two feet across with scattered orange and red lights flashing across it. It was just hovering there in mid-air, giving off a low humming noise.


    ¡°Time to plug in,¡± Raige announced. ¡°And boy, isn¡¯t it weird that we all keep ending up in situations like this? We plug in, turn vulnerable, and have to depend on our little friend Cassidy to protect us.¡±


    Instead of verbally responding, Paige just gave her a shove toward the orb before looking back at me. ¡°Be careful. If they get inside they¡¯ll come straight here. They won¡¯t bother attacking us, they¡¯ll just try to destroy the core itself.¡±


    Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I gave a short nod. ¡°I¡¯ll cover you, I promise. Just do what you need to do. And Paige¡­ I know what it¡¯s like to have to work with someone who tried to hurt you so much, no matter why they were doing it.¡± Meeting her gaze, I added, ¡°Don¡¯t let that get in the way of doing what you need to do for all of us to get through this.¡±


    With that, I moved back to the broken door and peeked out, looking one way down the hall, then the other. I could hear the fighting going on in the distance through a few open windows. God, I wanted to be down there. I wanted to help the others. It felt wrong to just stand here and depend on them to do the bulk of the work out there without me. But I couldn¡¯t abandon these two. If they didn¡¯t finish their work with the core, the fight outside didn¡¯t matter.


    So, hard as it was, I kept my position. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the two identical blonde figures standing with their backs to me, one hand from each on the orb. They were clearly interfacing with it, or whatever the term was. I just hoped it wouldn¡¯t take that long, because from the sounds of things outside, this was a full-scale assault. I heard gunfire, shouting, and a lot of deep roars from Mars Bar. It was clearly getting nasty out there, and it was probably just going to get worse.


    The next few minutes were incredibly tense, to say the least. I kept watching and listening for anyone to breach the house, but they were clearly doing a pretty bang-up job out there, because no one was making it in. For a brief moment, I stupidly let myself think we would actually pull this off without bigger complications. Yeah, I know, how could I be so dumb?


    As if to immediately prove me wrong, the sound of shattering glass suddenly filled the air behind me. Whirling that way, I saw a figure leaping through the window to land smoothly on the carpet.


    He wasn¡¯t dressed like a soldier, or anything like that. He was about average height, in his late thirties with dark blond hair and an intense look. There was also something incredibly familiar about him, something right on the tip of my tongue.


    ¡°Sit down,¡± he snapped in my direction. Abruptly, a series of wires tore their way out of the nearby wall and wrapped around my elbows, ankles, and stomach to yank me back and pin me next to a virtual recreation of my own dresser. I was trapped in an awkward position, with one hand pinned against the nearby wall and the other bent up over my head. And these wires were strong. Painting a purple ninja across my back, I focused on breaking them. But it was going to take a few seconds.


    Before I could get anywhere with that, Way suddenly appeared in the room, having teleported in. She went to grab the man, but he pivoted out of her reach and lashed out with a baton that suddenly appeared in his hand. There was a spark of electricity or something, and she hit the floor with a yelp. Rolling over, she went back to her feet, only to stop short, blurting, ¡°Wha¨CI can¡¯t use my powers.¡±


    ¡°Think you can fight me in here?¡± the man snapped. ¡°Me?! I built this world.¡± With that, he waved a hand, and several more wires tore their way out of the wall to wrap around That-A-Way and yank her back next to my old bed.


    Eyes widening at that, I managed, ¡°Paige¡¯s dad?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Benjamin Pittman,¡± he informed both of us, brushing himself off. ¡°Or, well, a reasonable facsimile, anyway. Let¡¯s just say I didn¡¯t leave anything to chance when it came to making sure my child would be brought back into line. Just took the automated code I had running some time to build¡­ me.¡± He waved a hand to himself. ¡°A virtual version of my own mind. You know what they say, if you want something done right, do it yourself.¡± With that, he started to turn to where Paige and Raige were.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Way blurted, clearly trying to buy time for them. ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re going to do, erase both of them and then what? You¡¯re going to take over the body? How far do you think you¡¯ll get like that? And seriously, there are so many different levels of fucking creepy in that.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± I pointed out, ¡°this whole thing is pointless. Just let them go.¡±


    The man looked for a moment like he might rise to that bait and argue with us. Unfortunately, he decided against it, simply shaking his head. ¡°You know what? I don¡¯t particularly care what either of you think. You don¡¯t matter. You¡¯re nobody.¡±


    He was already turning back to where the other two were, taking a step that way while my heart beat its way out of my chest. I was straining at the wires, and had even started painting them pink to snap them more easily. But more appeared to entangle me every time I got free of one. I couldn¡¯t get out of this in time. I couldn¡¯t point my hand toward that guy, not with one arm pinned against the wall and the other bent up over my head. I was as trapped as That-A-Way, both of us struggling uselessly to free ourselves. In a moment, both Paige and her twin were going to be wiped out of existence! I had to do something! I had to¨CI couldn¡¯t¨Cwhat could I¨C


    ¡°Wait!¡± It was my turn to shout that word, though that time the man didn¡¯t even slow down. He was reaching out toward the core. But I wasn¡¯t done. ¡°You think I don¡¯t matter to you?! I do!¡±


    Without looking my way, the man started to lay his hand against that orb, his voice dismissive. ¡°You¡¯re nobody.¡±


    Painting as much of my body purple as I could, I tore at the wire holding my arm above my head. It snapped enough to let me grab my helmet. In one motion, I tore it up and off, along with the mask, tossing both of them aside to land at Way¡¯s feet before speaking in my normal voice.


    ¡°Was I a nobody when you told Paige to kill me?¡±

 In Like Flynn 17-10

    Well, I had set out to get this guy¡¯s attention and to distract him from what he¡¯d been about to do. And I was going to go ahead and call myself wildly successful at those goals. The guy completely abandoned the orb, spinning around and practically turning into a blur as he got right up to where I was. His hand grabbed my throat and squeezed as he stared into my face, his eyes wide. ¡°You? You?! No, no this is a trick. You changed your form to look like her. No, wait. How¡­ wait¡­¡± As his confusion and uncertainty grew, his grip around my throat tightened. Out of the corner of my eye while choking, I could see That-A-Way staring at me in silent, gaping shock. I guess finding out I was actually a girl, and someone she had probably heard of at that, was really taking a lot out of her. I couldn¡¯t even imagine what was going through her mind.


    Unfortunately, I also didn¡¯t have time to really think about that. All of my attention was on the fact that this guy was choking me. Not that he could really hurt me. At worst, I¡¯d be kicked out of the simulation. But that would leave him alone here with the still-trapped and powerless Way, and his two ¡®daughters,¡¯ whom he was still trying to erase.


    Yeah, I couldn¡¯t let that happen. Luckily, he¡¯d been too distracted to notice as I snapped the last of the wires before he could summon more. With a grunted, ¡°Let¡¯s kick this off,¡± I lashed out with my foot, the blow enhanced by an intricate purple dragon image running up my leg and over my back. It took the man in the chest and knocked him across to the far side of the room, where he crashed into one of my old paintings.


    The wires were trying to wrap around me again, but I¡¯d already painted a green rabbit over my back and dove out of the way. Landing near Way, I grabbed the wires that were holding her and ripped them out before hitting the girl herself with a quick shot of purple and green.


    She reacted instantly, shoving me out of the way with her new strength just before our angry new friend¡¯s fist passed through the air where my head had just been. He literally punched through the wall. Yeah, he obviously didn¡¯t quite have godlike control over this place, but he had certainly been able to give himself plenty of advantages.


    ¡°Your parents ruined everything!¡± he snapped at me while blocking a punch from Way. Almost contemptuously, he tossed her away from him. All of his attention was on me. ¡°Their idiotic and pointless war against your grandfather destroyed my chance to change the world! I could have saved everyone! Everyone!¡± He was spinning to punch at me, and I barely ducked before his fist shattered a metal statue that had been sitting on my dresser.


    Hitting him with two shots of yellow from both hands, I dove between his legs and rolled while retorting, ¡°Because you definitely come off as the altruistic sort!¡± Before he could turn, his movements slowed by the paint, I hoisted myself up on both hands from the floor and kicked out with my feet to hit the small of his back. Just before impact, I renewed the purple enhancement with the image of an anthropomorphic dog holding a baseball bat.


    The kick landed hard enough to knock the man to the floor. But he didn¡¯t stay there long before lunging back to his feet. He grabbed my dresser and spun with it, lifting the whole thing up before swinging it at me like a baseball bat. A very large and awkward baseball bat. Oh yeah, and he was screaming like a totally deranged maniac. That was fun.


    Luckily, he was still slowed down slightly. So, I launched myself upward in a flip before planting my feet against the ceiling. Extending both hands from above the man, I fired two shots of red. One missed, but the other hit, albeit just barely. It clipped his shoulder. Quickly, I activated both, so that he was yanked down toward the floor where the first shot had struck.


    Way was back on her feet by that point, and I managed to hit her with purple and orange paints just before the son of a bitch bounced back to his feet and grabbed my arm. A yelp escaped me, as he tried to crush it in his grip. I felt it start to snap as he yanked me off the ceiling and held me dangling there.


    ¡°Let her go!¡± Way blurted, using the strength I had given her to grab my desk chair and hurl it overhand at the guy. But he was too quick, twisting right out of the way just in time without ever losing his grip on me. Just as the chair went past his head, he caught it with his free hand and sent it right back to the other girl, who had to dive out of the way.


    I tried to kick at him, but it didn¡¯t seem to do anything, even with a bit of purple. It wasn¡¯t enough. The best I could do was give myself an orange pumpkin image that made it harder for him to snap my arm. Even then, I wasn¡¯t sure how long it would hold out.


    Wait, I was being stupid. Quickly, I painted that part of my arm pink. His tight grip immediately squished it, but it didn¡¯t matter. I dropped out of his hand and back to the floor, with a narrow tendril of pink connecting one part of my arm to the other, which was dangling from his fist. My arm was basically stretched and squished like silly putty. And oh boy did he look confused.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± I chirped, ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to work that kink out of my arm for weeks!¡± Even as I said that, I was painting my entire lower half purple for lashing out with a kick that took the man in the gut. That one finally made him stumble away from me, and freed my arm. I dismissed the pink paint, and my limb quickly schlurped right back to normal. Which was still disgusting and weird, of course. But I didn¡¯t have time to worry about that. Instead, I used the time I had left with purple paint to spin, grabbing my flat screen television off the wall before coming back around to slam the whole thing into his face. The impact knocked him backward against my bedroom door. Then I reared back to hurl the thing at him. Unfortunately, he caught it in one hand and used the other to snap it all in half before tossing both sides away. His voice was a deep, angry growl. ¡°This¡­ is¡­ my world!¡± As he said that, the floor changed into what amounted to pudding under my feet and Way¡¯s as she pushed herself back up. Both of us stumbled and fell forward, our hands ending up trapped in the floor as well just as it turned solid again. I strained, using a purple elephant on my chest, but I couldn¡¯t break free. Not quickly, anyway.


    Pushing away from my door, Pittman snarled, ¡°I built these environments. I control them, me. I built her. I made her flesh and blood and I made her cybernetics. I made everything about her. She is mine. Nothing, no one is going to take her away from me. Not even her. I am¨C¡±


    ¡°Hey, Dad.¡± It was Paige, the words coming even as she lunged away from the orb. In an instant, she had caught hold of the man¡¯s arm and shoved it back against the wall on one side of the doorway. ¡°Why don¡¯t you¨C¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡± Her words were finished by Raige, who joined her twin by lunging over to grab the man¡¯s other arm, holding it pinned against the other side of the doorway.


    ¡°Wha¨Cwhat are you doing?!¡± Pittman demanded. He was clearly straining against their grips as they worked to hold him in place. It took both of them thanks to the strength he had given himself in this world, and it was obvious that they wouldn¡¯t be able to hold him for long. ¡°I created you. I¡¯m your father! You do what I tell you to and I tell you to let¡­ me¡­ go. Help me deal with our enemy!¡± His gaze was locked on me, hatred filling his eyes in a way that made him seem almost rabid.


    The two identical blondes exchanged looks. Even now, I could tell there was little love lost between them. There was definitely still tension. But they had joined up to work together against their common enemy. Their father was the problem, and they weren¡¯t going to let him control them.


    ¡°You want help, Dad?¡± Paige managed through gritted teeth, still doing everything she could to hold his straining arm in place.


    ¡°You seem hungry,¡± Raige put in, equally straining. ¡°Maybe¡­ we could offer you¡­ a snack.¡±


    Paige finished with, ¡°It¡¯s not a Snickers. But¡­ how about¡­ a Mars Bar?¡±


    And at that moment, the sound of shattering glass, wood, and part of my entire wall filled the air where my balcony and sliding glass door were. Or where they used to be. As my gaze snapped that way, I caught a glimpse of some kind of high-tech motorcycle thing made out of Alloy¡¯s gold, silver, and black marbles crashing through everything to reach my room. But it wasn¡¯t Alloy riding it. It was Mars Bar himself. Well, he wasn¡¯t controlling it or anything, of course. But the big guy was definitely perched on the contraption as it barreled through my room, right between where Way and I were still trapped.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Pittman barely had time for his eyes to widen before the motorcycle-riding lizard-bear collided with him, right where Paige and Raige were holding him pinned in front of the door. His arms were torn free by the impact, as the man himself was sent out into the hallway beyond, and then through the next wall, with Mars Bar right on top of them, snarling and roaring the whole time.


    ¡°Guys!¡± I blurted in shock. ¡°Are you¨C¡±


    Tossing her father¡¯s (completely bloodless and clean) arm to the floor, Paige looked at me. As she did so, the floor pushed my hands and legs up so I could escape. Nearby, Raige did the same for That-A-Way. ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± Paige said flatly. ¡°The invaders are being pushed out and erased.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Raige confirmed in a grunt while stepping away from her twin as though she couldn¡¯t stand being that close any more. ¡°And by the time our dad can even hope to pull himself out of that¡­¡± She glanced over her shoulder, where the sounds of Mars Bar going to town on the bellowing man were still audible. ¡°He¡¯ll be erased too. Just takes another minute.¡±


    ¡°Not our dad,¡± Paige muttered. ¡°Not even the same sort of individual detail as the two of us. Just a quick copy of his mind. The real thing is still out there.¡± Looking my way, she added, ¡°He didn¡¯t have any kind of ongoing connection to it. He won¡¯t have any idea what happened in here. Or what his other self saw.¡±


    Before I could say anything, That-A-Way was standing in front of me. She seemed to be staring right into my soul. ¡°Cassidy¡­¡± the girl managed in a low voice that seemed equal parts awed and confused. ¡°Cassidy Evans. You¨C¡±


    ¡°The others are coming,¡± Paige interrupted. She stooped a bit, grabbing my helmet and tossing it to me. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re ready for all of that.¡±


    Gripping the helmet tightly, I looked at Way for a moment before putting it on. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it later,¡± I muttered. ¡°I promise.¡± Not that I had any idea what I was going to say to the other girl now that she knew who I was, but I¡¯d think of something. I had to. She knew so much of the truth now, and a lot of what she didn¡¯t know, she could probably put together with a few minutes to think. Nothing I could do about that now except tell her the truth when we had time.


    I¡¯d barely fixed the helmet in place before Pack and Alloy came floating up on a board made out of the latter¡¯s remaining (white) marble. They stepped off and entered the room, looking around.


    ¡°So,¡± Pack asked in an almost casual voice. ¡°What happened? Did we win?¡±


    As if in answer to that, Mars Bar came lumbering back through the hole his flight through the doorway had created. He looked extremely pleased with himself and sat back on his haunches with a grunt. A moment later, the three other marbles came flying in over his head and rejoined Alloy, bouncing around her head like excited puppies showing off that they had done a good job.


    ¡°He¡¯s gone,¡± Paige announced in a quiet voice that was barely more than a whisper. ¡°We erased him. That shadow version, anyway.¡±


    Clearing my throat, I gave a short nod. ¡°I guess what she¡¯s saying is yes.


    ¡°We definitely won.¡±


    ********


    Despite me saying that, things weren¡¯t exactly completely solved at that point, obviously. Raige had worked with us to save herself from being erased, and to stop that copy of their dad after he betrayed her. But everything wasn¡¯t sunshine and rainbows with her. She still insisted that she was her own person and wasn¡¯t just going to lay in the back of Paige¡¯s mind doing nothing.


    Yeah, it turned out that she hadn¡¯t only focused on erasing the invaders while they were connected to the core together. Raige had also taken the time to link herself to it so she couldn¡¯t be erased or controlled the same way. An insurance policy, she called it. Just to keep everyone honest. She and Paige now held identical power over the system.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you,¡± I insisted about twenty minutes later, ¡°give us a chance and we¡¯ll find a way to help you.¡± We had left the virtual version of my home and returned to the farm place (the cowboy rancher people were there, but they left us alone and went about their pretend duties).


    ¡°And like I said,¡± Raige shot back, ¡°I¡¯m giving you a chance. I¡¯ll play nice in here and not attack my twinsy. I¡¯m not even spilling anyone¡¯s secrets. But I want my own body. I want my chance to be myself and live my life the way I want to. And quite frankly, I don¡¯t trust anybody, not even you people. Dad made it perfectly clear that the only person I can trust is me. I can¡¯t depend on anyone else unless I have leverage. So until you figure out how to get me what I want, my leverage is that this body stays put. If I don¡¯t control it, she doesn¡¯t control it. But hey, get me a new body and everything¡®s hunky-dory. Can¡¯t be too hard for Team Super-Competent, right?¡±


    ¡°If you just sat down and shut up and let me move my own body,¡± Paige snapped, ¡°I could help them get one for you.¡±


    ¡°Yeeeeah,¡± Raige drawled casually, ¡°but there¡¯s that whole not trusting any of you thing I mentioned. Kind of a sticking point when it comes to giving up any power I¡¯ve got. So no, I think we¡¯ll let your friends handle this. Come on, Paige, have a little faith in someone else. I mean, isn¡¯t that basically what you were telling me to do? And you¡¯re supposed to be the good one.¡±


    Alloy spoke up. ¡°So, maybe this is a really dumb question or whatever, but how exactly are we supposed to find a robot body for this chick to move into? I mean, I don¡¯t exactly have one of those in my basement. I don¡¯t even have a basement, cause I live in an apartment. But you get the point.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t just be any robot body,¡± Raige noted as she created a tennis ball in one hand and began to toss it up and down. ¡°It¡¯s gotta be one like this. That¡¯s what my system is compatible with. I need another one of Dad¡¯s orbs, and a body to go with it.¡±


    Staring at her for a moment, I managed a fairly controlled, ¡°And how exactly are we supposed to grab one of those? I know, we¡¯ll book a flight to Breakwater, find your dad, ask him to pretty please build you a new orb and body, and then come back with it.¡±


    The twins exchanged pointed glances before Paige sighed. ¡°There is another slight possibility. Our father had multiple prototype labs all over the city. When¡­ when he was captured, they took or destroyed almost everything he had.  But, it¡¯s possible they didn¡¯t find all of the secret storage rooms in those labs. It¡¯s all been locked up and sealed away for years, but if you can find one of those labs with a prototype in it, you could probably get the kid out there to fix it up. Maybe with a little help.¡±


    Biting my lip, I slowly nodded. ¡°Sounds pretty slim, but I guess at least it¡¯s something. How exactly do we get to these labs to find out if there¡¯s anything left? Can you give us some addresses?¡±


    Paige shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. I didn¡¯t even know about those places until¡­ until we interfaced.¡± She glanced briefly at the identical figure nearby. ¡°And she doesn¡¯t know exactly where they are either. But, she knows where the addresses are. In a secret base under the mall, controlled by you-know-who.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh.¡± Alloy raised a hand. ¡°I don¡¯t? I don¡¯t know who. What the hell is going on? Secret base under the mall?¡±


    After blinking a few times, I shook off my surprise before muttering to the other girl that we would explain later. Yeah, by that point, I was pretty sure I was going to have to bring her all the way in. Well, at least as far as the Ministry stuff went. But right this second wasn¡¯t the time for it.


    Instead, I focused on Paige and Raige. ¡°Yeah, we know the place you¡¯re talking about. We were even working on ways to get in there. But it¡¯s gonna take a while.¡±


    Stretching her arms up lazily over her head, Raige replied, ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s a good thing we¡¯re both playing nice in here in the meantime, isn¡¯t it? Go to the secret base and get on their computer systems. Look up any files under our dad¡¯s name and then check out the addresses. Hopefully, you¡¯ll find something useful.¡±


    There was a lot I wanted to say, but I couldn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t exactly blame her for wanting to make sure that we had no choice but to help her. So, with a heavy sigh I waved a hand. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll figure it out. But we¡¯re also going to be checking in. So make sure you¡¯re really playing nice. Just, go to your own separate corners or whatever if you have to. No more fighting or trying to kill each other.¡±


    They both agreed, and Paige and I exchanged looks once more. There was other stuff I wanted to say, but couldn¡¯t in front of everyone here. Maybe another time. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like I had a shortage of important conversations that I needed to have soon.


    ¡°Okie dokie,¡± Pack put in. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been really interesting, but if we¡¯re all done with this shit, I¡¯d like to get back into the real world. I don¡¯t even know what time it is, but I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m fucking famished. Plus, I need to check on Riddles and the others.¡± As she said that, the girl was rubbing Mars Bar¡¯s side affectionately while he made a sound that was similar to purring.


    With that, she spoke the code to eject from the simulation, both her and the lizard-bear vanishing.


    Alloy was next after a brief hesitation, her image fading away as she removed herself back to the real world.


    Which, of course, left me standing there with Paige, Raige, and That-A-Way. All of whom now knew who I was. Because every time I thought my life had reached the peak of complication, I was proven wrong.


    Taking a breath, I looked to Way. ¡°Okay, obviously you recognized me. Which means we¡¯ve got a lot to talk about.¡±


    Before I could say anything else, Paige spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re gonna tell her, right?¡± But she wasn¡¯t addressing me. Her attention was on Way.


    ¡°You mean you¡ª¡± The other girl stopped herself and shook her head. ¡°Of course you know. Who am I kidding?¡±


    With a sigh, she turned back to me. Her hand rose to her mask and she started to take it off.  As she did so, her hair began to darken from blonde to black, while several distinct features of her face shifted just a little bit.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Amber O¡¯Connell announced, ¡°We really do have a lot to talk about.¡±

 In Like Flynn 17-11

    I had definitely experienced bigger shocks in my recent history. Certainly much worse ones. Everything that had to do with my family and what they really were totally beat out this moment, no question about it. And yet, standing there right then, staring at the girl across from me, still ranked pretty high up there. The sudden revelation that the Minority-Touched I had been working with so much, and the girl I spent time at school with were the same person sent me reeling, both physically and mentally. A series of noises escaped me, but they weren¡¯t coherent or even vaguely decipherable as words. They were only sounds, filling the air meaninglessly. Somewhere in the middle of that, I plucked my helmet off and held it loosely in one hand (I hadn¡¯t put the actual mask back on) so I could stare bare face to bare face with the other girl. I just¡­ I had to see her straight on, with nothing between us. Not that I was entirely sure how it would help, but still.


    ¡°Now you know how I felt back at¡­ your house,¡± Amber informed me dryly while arching an eyebrow pointedly. ¡°And I had to jump right to it and keep trying to fight that son of a bitch. At least you¡¯ve got downtime to process.¡±


    After a very momentary pause, she visibly winced at the words that were about to come out of her mouth before asking, ¡°I mean, it is you, right? That wasn¡¯t actually some trick you and the kid programmed in to distract that guy if anything like that happened, just in case?¡± It was clear that she didn¡¯t think that was in any way possible, but still wanted to cover her bases just in case. And really, who could blame her? This entire situation was pretty fucked up.


    Before I could answer, Raige, whom I had forgotten was standing there with the shock of this whole revelation, spoke up almost cheerfully. ¡°Oh no, it¡¯s really her. And it¡¯s a pretty good disguise, if you think about it. I mean, who¡¯s ever going to think that Cassidy Evans is willingly posing as a little boy? Especially after everything my doppelganger over there put her through.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Paige muttered, her face slightly flushed. She was looking at me the whole time, voice softening slightly. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice. My¨C¡± She glanced at the identical girl nearby before belatedly amending her words. ¡°Our father set the rules about that very clearly.¡±


    A brief start of realization, Amber looked back and forth between us. ¡°Oh my God, your dad has some huge grudge against the Evans, so he made you treat her like an enemy all this time? What the hell did that accomplish?¡± she demanded, sounding exasperated with the whole thing.


    ¡°She was supposed to do more than just antagonize me for years,¡± I informed her without taking my gaze away from Paige herself. ¡°Back at her birthday party, she was supposed to kill me.¡±


    While Amber gave a double-take at that, Paige and I took turns explaining, with a little ¡®help¡¯ from Raige, exactly what was supposed to happen that day, along with what had actually happened. We filled in the blanks about that whole situation so that Amber knew the full story. At least as far as that went. There was a hell of a lot more story to fill in for everything else.


    Which was made perfectly clear when Amber let out a breath. ¡°Okay, I guess I understand that day and all that, but what about everything else? How did you get powers? Why did you start going out as a boy in the first place? What do you know about these Ministry people, and how? What does any of that have to do with Paige¡¯s father? Why does he have some big grudge against your parents, and what¨C¡± Abruptly, she trailed off. Her eyes widened dramatically with realization as she snapped her gaze to me. ¡°Oh my God! It¡¯s them, isn¡¯t it? The Ministry. Your parents are connected to the Ministry. That¡¯s how you found out about them, and¡­¡± She slumped back on her heels, head shaking. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re so obsessed with hiding your identity. It¡¯s why you won¡¯t join the¨C¡± Once again, she interrupted herself as a different realization jumped to mind, making her blurt a sudden, ¡°Oh God, Izzy! I mean¨C¡±  She cut herself off, blanching as though she had said too much already.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I know,¡± I assured her. ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure those two know everything about the Minority.¡± I said that while looking toward the twins. ¡°They¡¯re pretty well-informed, after all.¡±


    Sounding pretty cheerful and amused by the entire situation, Raige nodded easily. ¡°Oh yeah, we know all your identities. Parts of the benefit to having a backdoor in with the Ministry. Okay, maybe not an entire door. But at least a window. Enough to know some pretty juicy secrets.¡±


    ¡°Secrets we don¡¯t talk about,¡± Paige snapped pointedly, before adding, ¡°And you two should get out of here before they send someone in to check on you. I mean, you can have this whole conversation somewhere better than this place, right?¡± For a brief moment, she looked as though she was going to say something else, before stopping herself. I had the feeling she actually wanted us to stay even longer, and pointing out that we should leave was her way of ripping the Band-Aid off.


    But she also had a point. We had to eject before the guys outside freaked out and came in after us. They would obviously give us a little leeway, but I didn¡¯t want to push that even further. So, biting my lip, I focused on the blonde girl who had antagonized me for so long. ¡°I¡¯ll come back and check on you when I can.¡± Belatedly, I glanced toward Raige. ¡°I¡¯ll check on both of you, I mean. So try not to antagonize each other too much while we¡¯re gone. Like I said, just go to your own corners of the world if you have to. Whatever it takes to play nice and get along until we can separate you.¡±


    ¡°What he¨CI mean she said.¡± Shaking her head a bit at her own correction, Amber continued. ¡°Seriously, just leave each other alone if you need to. We¡¯ll both come back and check on you whenever we can. And we want to find you both without all these bruises, so no more fighting.¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Raige replied easily with a shrug, ¡°I was just following orders before. Now that Daddy made it abundantly clear what he thinks of loyalty, I don¡¯t have any reason to fight with that one over there. I mean, as long as you work on getting me that new body so I can go off and live my own life far away from all of you. Just do that and everything¡¯ll be totally hunky-dory.¡±


    Exchanging brief looks, Amber and I both replaced our mask and helmet respectively. Really, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure why we did that. It wasn¡¯t like whether we had them on or not would affect our bodies in the real world. Maybe it was just a psychological way of telling ourselves that we were going back to being That-A-Way and Paintball for the time being.


    In any case,  I watched intently as her facial features shifted slightly along with her hair turning blonde. Touched-Tech, obviously. Which again, made perfect sense. It had always seemed a little odd that the adults behind the Minority would let her get away with only hiding her identity behind a little domino mask. The fact that it did so much to actually change what she looked like solved that question.


    Once we were suitably disguised, I glanced over to the twins to promise one more time that we would check in on them. There was more I wanted to say, but it would have to wait. I really didn¡¯t feel like talking to Paige about all the issues we had while in front of an audience. Even if I was now aware that I knew That-A-Way much better than I had thought. And yeah, that would be a whole thing in and of itself. The two of us were clearly going to have a long chat. Between that and the fact that I definitely still needed to talk to Peyton about some of the stuff she¡¯d heard in here, I had several of those ¡®important conversations¡¯ coming up in my near-future.


    For the moment,  Amber and I simply spoke the code to eject ourselves from the simulation. Again, my vision was filled with the kaleidoscope of lights, colors and all the random sounds. Seriously, at one point it sounded like one of those old World War One fighter planes had flown practically right through me. To say it was disorienting was a massive understatement.


    Finally, there was that reddish-purple fog from before, accompanied by the sensation of falling straight down on a roller coaster. I had thought I was ready for it this time, but a yelp still escaped me. Then I was conscious and aware, jerking a bit against the seat I¡¯d been perched in. Nearby, I could see Wren watching anxiously, even as I heard Ambe¨Cno, That-A-Way jerking in her own seat on the opposite side of the machine. We¡¯d made it, we were back in the real world. Quickly, I pulled the sunglasses and special gloves off before fixing my mask and helmet. Only then did I push myself up and give an almost dog-like shake. My body felt weird and tingly. Probably a side effect of sitting for so long while my brain thought I was actually moving. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s some nifty gizmo you got there, dude,¡± I informed Wren with an only slightly shaky thumbs up. ¡°Seriously, that French guy you got this prototype from really knows his shit. And you put it together, just¨Cmaybe see if he wants to collaborate on something, cuz you two do good work.¡±


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    Wren proceeded to blush deeply, hopping off the edge of the table she had been anxiously perched on. ¡°You¡¯re okay? You¡¯re all okay? It took you awhile to come out of it, longer than the others.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was looking over to the corner of the room, where Pack and Alloy were clearly exercising/playing with the lizards. They had both straightened up when That-A-Way and I had emerged from the machine, Pack standing with two of her lizards (Twinkletoes the chameleon and Holiday the skink) perched on either shoulder, while Scatters the tiny Neon Day Gecko was settled right on top of her hooded and masked head. ¡°You two good?¡± she asked, though her attention was more on That-A-Way than me.


    ¡°We made it,¡± Way confirmed while casting a brief glance back toward me before her attention shifted to Wren. ¡°And he¡¯s right, that was a lot more realistic than I expected. Hope your French guy gets it up and running so I can talk the bosses back at the Clubhouse into buying one for the rest of the Minority to use in training. Seriously, just being able to practice stuff and have full-contact sparring without worrying about hurting anybody would be pretty amazing.¡±


    Alloy, who had picked herself up from the floor while holding Riddles in her small bearded dragon form, abruptly spoke up. ¡°Are we seriously just being this casual right now after what happened in there? Who the hell is Paige¡¯s father and how did he send some¡­ some virtual copy of himself into her computer brain thing and oh my God I sound like a nutjob.¡±


    ¡°Welcome to the club,¡± I replied, reaching out to squeeze Wren¡¯s shoulder briefly before leaving the girl to walk over to where Alloy herself was. ¡°Seriously, welcome to the club. There¡¯s a lot of stuff to talk about. And I will, I promise. You¡¯ve earned some answers. And maybe I should have talked about it with you before. But I just¡­ it¡¯s hard for me to get into all that. I¡¯m sorry. You deserve more of an explanation than you¡¯ve gotten so far. Especially after you went in there with us. I really don¡¯t know what we would have done without your help.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight,¡± Pack put in. ¡°You were the MVP in there. So if he doesn¡¯t treat you right and start giving you answers, I can talk Blackjack into a really good signing bonus for you.¡±


    Letting out a clearly exaggerated sigh, That-A-Way protested, ¡°Seriously? Could you at least wait until I¡¯m not in the room before you start trying to recruit for your criminal boss?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, babe,¡± Pack replied casually and without any actual regret, ¡°You know what they say. Always be hustling. Especially when your boss offers such attractive bonuses for anyone who recruits a good Touched to begin with.¡± Slyly, she added, ¡°Speaking of which, do you have any idea how much bank you and I could make if I bring you over to the shady side? Huh, huh? We could have a lot of fuuuun.¡± She intentionally and pointedly drawled out the last word.


    Visibly flushing a little behind that mask, Way shook her head. ¡°Sorry, not interested in anything Blackjack has to offer. You¡¯re just gonna have to do without. Why don¡¯t you try robbing another bank to make up for it,¡± she added while rolling her eyes. Even as the words were out of her mouth, however, the girl was already frantically trying to verbally back up. ¡°I mean, not that I¨C¡±


    It was too late, as Pack raised both hands triumphantly over her head, playing that whole thing up for all it was worth. ¡°And there it is! You all heard it. I have carte blanche to rob a bank, given straight from a prestigious and, dare I say, truly stunning member of the Detroit Minority.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Way retorted while giving a dismissive wave of her hand. ¡°You forgot to get it in writing, so I guess you¡¯re screwed and you¡¯ll just have to go to jail like the other bank robbers. Oh, I know, how about you have a total redemption moment and come over to the sunny side?¡±


    Pack, in turn, shot back, ¡°Tell you what, as soon as the kid over there joins you guys, so will I.¡± She was nodding in my direction, of course. Considering how clear I¡¯d made my unwillingness to do that, as well as (at least partially) why, Pack obviously felt safe making the bet.


    Before they could banter back and forth any more, Alloy abruptly blurted, ¡°Oh shit, I need to get home.¡± She was looking at her phone before wincing while glancing up. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t realize what time it was. We were in there for longer than I thought. I umm, I really have to go, before Mom has a coronary. Uh, thanks for inviting me to that¡­ crazy thing, I guess?¡± Looking to me, she added, ¡°I really do want answers about what¡¯s really going on and all that. And about what that guy wants and how he¡¯s ¡®trying to end death¡¯ or whatever. But you know, Mom comes first.¡±


    ¡°Oh, believe me,¡± I assured her immediately, ¡°I know exactly what you mean. And yeah, we¡¯ll definitely talk later, I promise. Just go do what you need to. And Alloy, thanks. Seriously, I wasn¡¯t just saying it before. I really don¡¯t know what we would have done in there without your help.¡±


    Obviously embarrassed by the attention, she made a few noises about it not being a big deal and headed for the elevator to leave. Just as it started to descend, she called out that she would text me sometime the next day so we could meet up again and have that conversation.


    Once she was gone, the three of us who were left gave Wren an actual update about what had happened. Alloy and Pack had given her the CliffsNotes, but they had been waiting for us to get into the whole story. So, over the next few minutes, we explained what was going to happen. Unsurprisingly, as soon as we got to the part about needing to find another body, the Tech-Touched girl was immediately apprehensive. Her head shook, insisting she couldn¡¯t build anything like that. But I assured her that we already had some leads about how to possibly find one of Paige¡¯s father¡¯s prototype storage places. All she would have to do was look it over, and possibly help us compare it to Paige¡¯s body to see if we could figure out what was different.


    ¡°Plus,¡± Way pointed out, ¡°since Raige isn¡¯t actively fighting her anymore, she can probably talk you through some of this stuff herself. You know, with that communication thing you built. Hell, if it¡¯s about getting her own body working, I bet Raige would help out too. You three could all collaborate to figure it out. You¡¯d just be their hands. You know, in a manner of speaking.¡±


    That calmed the girl down a bit, and eventually Pack said she needed to go as well. After a little more teasing back and forth about what kind of crimes she was off to commit, she headed out. Meanwhile, Wren was yawning and trying to hide it, leaving Fred in the corner of the room giving us meaningful looks. He¡¯d been downstairs before, but came up as Pack was on her way out. Now, the man was basically doing everything up to pantomiming that we should leave so he could get Wren to go to sleep. Yeah, after all the work she¡¯d done to get that machine working in such a short time, the kid definitely needed to get some rest. Even if she was trying to hide exactly how exhausted she was. Any minute now, her head was probably going to hit the table.


    Without even needing to look at each other, That-A-Way and I both said we needed to get out of there. We thanked the kid one more time before taking the elevator down and heading out. Both of us were completely silent the whole way through the store, and even once we got outside. Together, we walked silently through the alley behind the shop, before Way caught my arm and looked meaningfully to a nearby roof. When I nodded, she teleported us up there.


    Once we were on the roof, the girl looked around to make sure we were alone before taking off the mask. As her hair and face shifted to normal, she stared intently at me. It looked like she was taking a moment to try to find the right words. While she did, I slowly pulled the helmet off and set it on top of the nearby air conditioning unit. Then I took off the mask. And boy did that ever feel weird. It made me feel naked, standing there with my face exposed. Finally, I plucked the Bluetooth device out of my ear and put it, and the mask, next to the helmet. And then I just stood there, looking at the other girl in silence for what felt like an eternity. There were several times that one or both of us started to say something, before stopping. Neither of us knew exactly what to say.


    Finally, I let out a long breath and looked to her while trying to clamp down on the nerves that were making my heart want to beat its way out of my chest. There was no point in holding back right now. Amber knew who I was. She was way too close to things for me to push her off, and quite frankly she¡¯d earned the truth. So, that was exactly what I was going to give her. ¡°Okay,¡± I announced, ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell you what happened the night I got my powers. And everything that came after that. I¡¯ve only told the whole story once before, and that was to Izzy.¡±


    Amber blinked at that, hesitantly asking, ¡°You mean Izzy really does know about you? How¡­ how much does she know, exactly? And for how long?¡±


    ¡°All of it,¡± I informed her. ¡°I told her everything. And she found out the night we had that whole thing with Paige in the first place. When I got home after all that, I guess I wasn¡¯t really thinking too clearly. I ended up going up on the roof, and she was already up there. She saw me use my paint and I saw her floating. That kind of forced us to talk about everything.¡±


    ¡°Like you¡¯re gonna talk about everything now?¡± Amber pressed, folding both arms as she watched me intently.


    ¡°Yeah, like¨Cwait a minute, she knows who you are, doesn¡¯t she?¡± I suddenly realized. ¡°She¨Cboy, she really is good at keeping secrets.¡± After processing that realization, I shook my head before focusing on the matter at hand. ¡°Okay. Well, here goes.


    ¡°It started when I was pretending to drive one of my family¡¯s cars, and my brother came into the garage¡­¡±

 Interlude 17A - Sherwood

    At a glance and without advance knowledge, the subdivision would appear to be picturesque, a true example of upper-middle class prosperity within the greatly thriving city of Detroit. The area was a gated community, consisting of ninety-two houses spread across ten blocks. At the entrance to the neighborhood, once one pulled past the gate and entered the subdivision proper, a street ran to the left and to the right. Straight ahead was a medium-sized park with a winding hiking trail, a pristine playground for children, and a very well-cared for soccer field and baseball diamond. Directly in view of anyone entering the community through the main gate, at the corner of the park, was a large wooden sign with the neighborhood¡¯s name of Pinewood Hollow proudly and boldly written across it.


    At least, it had once said that. At some point much earlier, the ¡®Pine¡¯ part of the sign had been crossed out and painted over in white. Then ¡®Sher¡¯ had been spray painted in green over it. The word ¡®Hollow¡¯ had been left intact, but someone had added ¡®Enter, all ye who are¡¯ above that part. Now, rather than a simple, polite and joyful sign welcoming people to Pinewood Hollow, the sign read, ¡®Sherwood ¨C Enter All Ye Who Are Hollow.¡¯


    With that altered sign and the park lying straight ahead as one passed through the gate, the entrance street ran left and right (west and east). At either edge of the park¡¯s width, a street extended perpendicular to the first, both running to the north with the park on one side and various homes on the other. The west-east street at the entrance continued beyond that in both directions, each extending past another block before curving northward as well, with homes on both sides. The two streets continued on to the end of the subdivision before curving back to the west or east respectively, where they joined up once more. The two streets that ran along either side of the park¡¯s length connected with the newly rejoined streets at that end as well.


    The result, essentially, was that the main street formed a large, rounded rectangle, with a square (the park) taking up the entire center portion of that rectangle, two streets running up the length of either side of that park, and homes with large front and back yards filling the rest of the space.


    Also filling up a lot of that space? Trees, bushes, shrubs, flowers, grass, vines, and every other sort of plant imaginable. The neighborhood was one of the greenest, most colorful in the state of Michigan. There were plants found in that single neighborhood that could not be found anywhere outside of exotic greenhouses and the like in the rest of North America.


    Ninety-two houses. Ninety-two families. And somewhere within those ninety-two homes lived most, if not all of the members of the Fell-Touched gang known as Sherwood. A group of Touched individuals who, as a general rule, despised most forms of modern technology and preferred nature and wildlife. They also obsessively protected their relatively small and contained territory of this single neighborhood, and it was impossible to effectively keep any secrets or surprises in the area from them, thanks to the spies they had in both plant and animal forms. When the tree outside your house, the weeds your police cruiser drove past, the simple vines wrapping around the edge of the welcome sign that a Star-Touched landed on top of, or the bluejay sitting atop a nearby telephone pole watching your whispering huddled group could all be reporting back to the loyal Sherwood members, it was quite difficult to get anything past them.


    Police and authorities had tried, of course. They raided the neighborhood with Star-Touched assistance now and then. But nothing ever came of it. By the time they got anywhere, there was no evidence of any wrongdoing to find. Whatever people in the neighborhood knew, they refused to provide information or testimony to the police. For some, it was a fear of retaliation. For others, it was loyalty (or perhaps Stockholm Syndrome). The neighborhood might have been ruled by a gang of Fell-Touched, but it wasn¡¯t bad living there, so long as you stayed within Sherwood¡¯s rules. Those essentially involved forcing people to keep their lawns neatly trimmed, their flowers, trees, and other plants well-watered and fertilized, and so on. But they didn¡¯t actually hurt the people who lived there, so long as those rules and others like them were followed properly. You were allowed to do what you wanted within your own house, as long as you kept the single houseplant you were sent by the gang in a central location and took care of it.


    It was, in most cases, quiet and peaceful in the neighborhood, with beautiful scenery and some quite interesting wildlife wandering through or living within the park and surrounding forested area. Not to mention the fact that Sherwood managed to keep any other gang from ever entering their territory, which prevented the people who lived there from having to deal with problems like Oscuro or Ninety-Niner violence. If you could live with taking care of the plants and knowing that anything you said could be spied on by random animals, grass, and flowers, it wasn¡¯t bad.


    One of the largest houses in the neighborhood, located at the furthest spot away from the entrance gate, and directly across from the north end of the park, belonged to Trey Fosters and his three children. The eldest was twenty-year-old Micah, the youngest was thirteen-year-old Errol, and the middle child was seventeen-year-old Arleigh.


    It was Arleigh Fosters, that last-mentioned, middle child, who stood in the (quite expansive) front yard of the four-story house shortly before ten at night. The tall, blonde girl was rapidly texting several of her friends back at Cadillac Preparatory School, fingers dancing over the screen so rapidly that one might have expected to see smoke begin billowing up from it. She was, in fact, so intently focused on her texting that the girl failed to notice the large (six foot four and quite muscular) figure stepping out of the thick tree directly behind her. Silently and slowly, the person reached out toward her, hands extending until his fingers were mere millimeters from touching her exposed throat. His narrow smile could barely be seen glinting in the dim light from a nearby street lamp as he prepared himself¡­ and then struck.


    ¡°Booga!¡± With that cry, he grabbed onto her neck and shoulders and started to shake the girl.


    ¡°Gaaaah fuck you!¡± Jerking forward out of the man¡¯s grip, Arleigh spun to face the figure behind her, pointing. ¡°Fuck you, Micah! Fuck you, you stupid, ugly piece of shit! Stop doing that!¡± She hated her older brother¡¯s power to both manipulate and transport through plants. Or rather, the way he abused it to always get the jump on her. Micah had always lived to make her jump and scream, from the time he was eight and she was five. And probably before then, but she couldn¡¯t remember back that far. The only thing that had changed now was that he was very good at either using his power to sneak up on her, or getting leaves to tickle her ear, branches to tap her shoulder, roots to rise up and grab her feet, and so on.


    Glaring at the twenty-year-old fucking child as he doubled over laughing hysterically, Arleigh snarled a bit before pointing both hands. As she did so, a semi-transparent teardrop-shaped forcefield appeared all the way around him. It was about six feet from front to back and eight feet tall. A moment after the teardrop forcefield materialized around him, Micah had time to blurt a brief curse, before he was suddenly pummeled by hurricane-force winds and rain. The wind slammed him up into one side of the forcefield, then reversed course to send him crashing into the other side. No sooner had he struck there than the wind shifted entirely to come down from the ceiling, knocking the young man prone against the ground. And all the while, freezing rain thoroughly soaked him.


    ¡°Okay, okay, Jesus Christ, Arleigh! Get over it!¡± her brother shouted from inside the field. Even as he said that, Micah was slapping his hand against the lawn. At his touch, the grass that his sister was standing on grew over a foot so it could wrap around her ankles and yank hard to knock her to the ground. That was enough to disturb her concentration so that he could punch the forcefield and shatter it, escaping its confines even as the heavy rains and winds stopped. That was Arleigh¡¯s power. She created small, contained forcefields and could create severe weather effects within them. But the forcefields were weak if she wasn¡¯t intently focused on them.


    To the other members of Sherwood, and the public at large, he was Landscape and she was Clime. Their father, Trey, was better known as Hemlock. His power, at its base, made him a powerful hydrokinetic, able to mentally manipulate water. But it was more than that. Any water the man put under his control could then be altered into various poisons, toxins, and venoms. And what amounted to drugs. It was that latter ability he used on the water that went into the houses of the neighborhood, providing what he referred to as ¡®just a little happy juice¡¯ that made those who drank it enjoy living there a little bit more.


    Fear that Hemlock could poison the greater water supply before they stopped him was another thing that stopped the police from pushing too hard. If they stopped him while committing a crime, when they could see him in plain sight, that was one thing. But invading the Sherwood stronghold neighborhood and tearing everything apart? Giving him nowhere to run would create a nasty situation.


    Micah and Arleigh¡¯s father was even heavily responsible for how well the plants in the area grew, ensuring they received all the water they could need. And healthy, nutritious water at that, suited specifically for each individual plant species.


    And yet, as important as Trey/Hemlock was to Sherwood as a whole, he was not the leader or founder of their organization. Sure, he was the second-in-command, and often led in the field. He spoke for the leader in many respects.


    But he wasn¡¯t the true guiding force of the gang. These weren¡¯t his troops. This wasn¡¯t his neighborhood.


    That honor and title belonged to Sequoia, the founder and leader of Sherwood. Sequoia¡¯s own power involved infusing plants (or pieces of them) with various effects that could be triggered by various means such as touching them, ingesting them, or even inhaling their scent. The effects Sequoia could create varied wildly as well. Some gave temporary powers (including the ability to grow to enormous heights), or created explosions, poisons, and so on. Some could even heal. The bigger the effect, the more time and focus it took. The power was quite expansive, allowing for a lot of variation so long as the appropriate time was taken to fill each leaf, twig, flower, and so on with the desired effects. Not to mention his¡­ more elaborate powers.


    Sequoia was the true leader of the Fell-Gang, yet Hemlock tended to do the talking, thanks to a rather¡­ unique situation involved.


    As soon as both siblings had recovered, they each lunged to their feet. Micah was holding out both hands. ¡°Truce, truce, damn it. God, why don¡¯t you learn how to take a joke?¡±


    ¡°And why don¡¯t you learn how to leave me the fuck alone?¡± Arleigh shot right back. ¡°You didn¡¯t even¨Coh damn it, Micah, my phone!¡± Reaching down to where she had dropped the phone, she cursed once more upon seeing a large crack across half the screen. ¡°Look what you did!¡±


    ¡°Dude, you get an allowance of like five hundred dollars a week,¡± Micah retorted. ¡°And that¡¯s before you add in whatever you skim off the take whenever we get a good score. And even if you were completely fucking broke, just get the kid to fix it. Not a big deal.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the point!¡± With that declaration, the blonde girl raised her hand as though she was about to trap her brother in another weather-field. Seeing that, Micah instantly hopped up and then dropped through the grass under his feet to disappear off¡­ somewhere else.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Arleigh shouted after him even though he could have been anywhere within a half-mile radius, ¡°you better run!¡± With a muttered curse, she looked at the crack on her phone and considered before turning to stare up at the leftmost window on the third floor of the four-story house.


    ¡°Obnoxious, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    The deep male voice came from the nearby telephone pole, making Arleigh jolt and jerk that way to find herself staring at a small owl that was perched there. Unlike with her brother¡¯s interruption, however, she didn¡¯t snap at the talking bird. Instead, she swallowed before giving a little nod. ¡°Sorry if we disturbed you, sir.¡±


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Disturbed me?¡± the owl echoed, then abruptly flew up from the pole and glided silently off into the night.


    ¡°Nonsense.¡± That time, the voice, identical to the first, came from near Arleigh¡¯s feet. She looked down to see a chipmunk perched there, gazing up at her while continuing with, ¡°Siblings annoy one another and fight. This is the way of the world.¡± With that, the chipmunk chittered and then abruptly took off in a panicked run to get up the nearby tree.


    The nearby¡­ Sequoia tree.


    Not that it was the only one in the neighborhood. Indeed, there were over a dozen of them within the formerly named Pinewood Hollow.  Sequoia trees planted back when the housing division had first been built, by an enterprising developer who thought having some of the gigantic trees within the subdivision would attract attention. Of course, it would take the trees quite some time to reach their full height and width (and some would almost certainly be cut down or moved before then). In any case, most believed that the Fell-Gang¡¯s leader had taken their name in honor of one of those rare trees. But the truth was a bit more¡­ direct than that.


    Yes, the leader of Sherwood, the true founder of the gang of nature-based criminals, was a Touched tree. Gifted intelligence and powers, with the ability to move (albeit quite slowly and deliberately to the point that it would take an entire day to cross a football field), Sequoia the tree had lived on these grounds since before there had been an actual neighborhood here. They (though the voice used sounded masculine, Sequoia preferred the gender-neutral they) and Arleigh¡¯s father had both become Touched on the same day, at nearly the same moment. They had worked together since then, with Sequoia becoming what amounted to an uncle or aunt for Arleigh and her siblings.


    They may have been incredibly slow, and lacked anything in the way of a mouth to speak, but Sequoia got around that through the use of their powers. Not only did the natural materials they empowered grant special benefits, if something of less than human intelligence ingested them, Sequoia gained the ability to control and speak through them. And even when the affected animals weren¡¯t being actively controlled, they still followed the directions they were given, acting as minions for the tree so long as they stayed within a certain radius. That, of course, was another reason the neighborhood was so secure. All those animals who could be spying on its residents at any time did so under the control and direction of Sequoia themself.


    ¡°Go on then,¡± the tree-Touched spoke through a third animal, this one a small deer that stepped through the nearby bushes and stared at the girl. ¡°Run and get your phone fixed. Perhaps later you can show me more videos of that funny cat.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, sure.¡± Arleigh was about to say something else before stopping herself. With a shrug, she turned and headed for the door before making her way through her family¡¯s home. She trotted up the stairs two at a time, calling out in the direction of the kitchen for the cook to make her something spicy to eat and that it better be ready in twenty minutes because she was starving. The fact that it was ten at night was immaterial, of course. They had people working in the house around the clock. There was always someone in the kitchen ready to make whatever they needed, what with her family¡¯s odd hours.


    Despite being the second-in-command of a group whose entire mission statement revolved around hating technology (not to mention having the actual leader literally planted in their back yard), Arleigh¡¯s father actually didn¡¯t. Nor did Sequoia, as a matter of fact. Despite being a plant themself, the tree-Touched was fine with technology, so long as it didn¡¯t cause them direct problems.


    It would¡¯ve been pretty hard for Trey Fosters to hate technology as much as Sherwood claimed to anyway, given the fact that he¡¯d made his fortune from his involvement in the Taurus shipping company. Taurus both maintained and delivered high-tech equipment, including Touched-Tech prototype stuff. These days, the Evans owned the majority of the company (like they did so many other things in Detroit), but Trey Fosters had been one of the first investors, and still held enough of a stake in them for the family to live far more than comfortably in this enormous house. Not to mention his continued involvement in the company¡¯s ongoing growth as they expanded their business across the continent and became the name associated with safely getting expensive technology from one place to another.


    The point was, no one would believe that a man involved in a business like that, particularly as heavily as her father was, would be such an integral part of a group that was so rabidly anti-technology. And that was the point, of course. That had been the very reason Trey and Sequoia had come up with this gang plan together in the first place. It was the perfect cover for their overall plan. A plan they had presented to the Ministry leaders, eventually making Sherwood indispensable to that organization.


    Essentially, Arleigh¡¯s dad used the gang to carefully target companies that rivaled his, or refused to do business with them, or even just to convince a wavering client that they needed Taurus. He wasn¡¯t stupid about it, of course. Trey made sure to have his own assets get hit enough that it wouldn¡¯t be immediately suspicious. But even that was helpful in the long run, as he would simply write off anything that was ¡®stolen¡¯ or ¡®destroyed¡¯ and then collect on the insurance while selling the items and equipment themselves on the underground market. In some cases, the items that they stole from other companies were even analyzed and reverse-engineered so that Taurus (or a different company linked to them) could come out with something similar or better. Naturally, Trey made sure to have a few items stolen from them end up making their way to Taurus¡¯s rivals to avoid suspicion. And proceeded to make even more money off forcing those rival companies to pay for the stolen tech.


    There was, of course, the question of why a gang like Sherwood would allow someone as connected to technology as the Fosters were to live in their territory. But Trey solved that issue by insisting that the house had been his late wife¡¯s (Arleigh¡¯s mother¡¯s) dream home, a house designed from the ground up by the woman herself. She¡¯d died of cancer within six months of moving into the house a little over fifteen years earlier (in the very same incident that had led to both Sequoia and Trey himself becoming Touched), and he made a show of refusing to leave the home his dead wife had put so much of herself into designing. Instead, he paid what amounted to protection money to the gang (ignoring the fact that it was his own gang, of course) so they would leave his family alone. The authorities (those who weren¡¯t corrupt themselves) still thought he was crazy, of course. And they were also somewhat annoyed that he was essentially handing cash and resources to a known group of supervillains. He, in turn, played up the angle of a still-grieving husband (even fifteen years on) who refused to let go of his wife¡¯s memory and would pay anything to keep himself and their children in that house.


    In any case, to the outside world, the Fosters were simply a rich family who were paying a good bit of extra ¡®rent¡¯ to a gang of fanatical nature lovers for permission to continue to live in the home designed by the deceased wife/mother. The true aim of Sherwood, to control the creation and distribution of technology, remained obfuscated behind their stated mission of hugging all trees, destroying all computers and cars, or whatever it was people thought they did.


    Sometimes playing the part of a tree-hugging flower girl hippy while in costume was hard, but it was a good way of concealing her actual identity, Arleigh had to admit. Just as no one believed that the leader of the nature-obsessed Fell-gang was one of the main investors and leaders of a company based entirely around protecting technology, there was also no one who was going to guess that a girl whose cell was basically glued to her ear and who always drove the the latest model car (to say nothing of having the fanciest electronic toys) was an enthusiastic member of that gang.


    Of course, even with all of that, there were decent investigators who might have stared very intently at their family. But one more major thing protected them. That was the Ministry themselves, who made sure to keep any such investigation from going too far. And, of course, warned Arleigh¡¯s father about them to help him set up airtight alibis. He and his children would appear on one side of the city in front of plenty of witnesses while Sherwood hit a convoy on the opposite side of the city. Body doubles and holograms were quite good for that sort of thing.


    In the end, the plan that Sequoia and Hemlock had come up with all those years ago had served to make them a very important piece of the Ministry¡¯s ability to control the city so effectively. Essentially, Sherwood and Braintrust were two sides of the same Ministry-connected coin. The latter group were a bunch of Tech-Touched who helped keep the Ministry themselves fully equipped with the latest and greatest toys, while simultaneously driving away or recruiting almost any other Tech-Touched in the city.


    Sherwood, on the other hand, focused on destroying or driving away any technology that the Ministry didn¡¯t want in the city. Or simply secretly acquiring it and passing that tech to their sister gang of Braintrust. The Ministry gave them targets to hit and Sherwood did so, under the guise of hating all that stuff. Braintrust and Sherwood were both actually quite close, a tight-knit group of allies. But in public, they were often at one another¡¯s throats. It helped to play up the illusion.


    Finally approaching the door to the room whose window she had been looking at from outside, Arleigh spoke up as she took those last few steps. ¡°Xanah, tell the brat I need to talk to him!¡±


    There was a brief pause before the household computer assistant demurely acknowledged the request. That was followed by a slightly longer pause as it clearly passed the message inside. Finally, the door opened and Arleigh found herself looking at her younger brother. Thirteen-year-old Errol was scrawny to the point of looking unhealthy, with glasses and enough of an asthma problem to require constantly keeping an inhaler nearby. His blond hair was stringy and stuck out in every direction no matter how much he attempted to keep it under control (not that he tried that much anymore), and he almost always wore tee-shirts advertising old cartoons from the seventies and eighties. Or, more seldomly, newer cartoons. But mostly the old ones.


    Blinking at his big sister a few times, Errol hesitated before asking, ¡°Uh, yeah?¡± His tone was wary, given how seldom either of his siblings wanted him for anything good. He was, in many ways, the black sheep of the family.


    Still, Arleigh gave him an encouraging smile. ¡°Hey, Dorkfish, need you to fix my phone.¡± She held it up and waved the cracked screen in his face. ¡°And you better hurry, Sequoia wants to see more cat videos.¡±


    ¡°Umm, okay,¡± the boy started carefully, ¡°but the last time I fixed something for you, you said you¡¯d take me to the aquarium. We still haven¡¯t gone, and that was like two weeks ago.¡±


    Arleigh rolled her eyes. ¡°Okay, Jesus, don¡¯t be so dramatic about it. Look, fix my phone and we¡¯ll go the day after tomorrow. I¡¯ll even drive us out to get something to eat after, all right? Now would you just do your thing, please?¡±


    With a small sigh that said he already knew he would probably regret it, Errol took the phone from her. Holding it in one hand, he pointed his other hand at the screen and focused. Three pulsing waves of nearly invisible, very pale-blue energy emanated from his palm. The first wave, upon hitting the screen, made about a quarter of the crack disappear. The second erased most of the rest, and the third finished the job. Finally, the phone looked as good as new. Not just as far as the crack went, but all the smudges were cleaned off, a bit of dirt that had been on the side of it from being dropped on the ground was gone, and the whole thing gleamed as if it was fresh out of the box.


    Grabbing the phone from her brother with a blurted thanks before ruffling his hair a bit too hard, Arleigh darted off with it. She was already texting her friends once more, jumping right back to that conversation.


    For a moment, Errol watched her go. Then he exhaled and turned to walk back into his room. On the way through it, he glanced over to where his discarded dirty jeans from earlier lay on the floor next to an overturned book, a scattered (and slightly bent) set of collectible trading cards based around famous Star-Touched, a plate with a crack in it from where he had dropped it, and his dirt-caked shoes.


    Reaching out with both hands, the boy focused. Several more pulsing waves of energy emanated from his palms. As the waves hit the items on the floor, the bent cards were straightened and returned to look as good as new before shuffling themselves together and back into the nearby box. The crack in the plate vanished before it floated up to rest on the desk. His dirty jeans looked like they had been through the wash and dried, even folding themselves properly before the nearby drawer opened and they flew up into it. His shoes were equally clean, and slid backward into the closet before that door closed. And the overturned book flew up to land where it belonged on the nearby shelf.


    Fixing things. That was Errol¡¯s power. But it was more than that. His gift ¡®put things together and in their proper place.¡¯ It fixed damage, cleaned objects, moved them where they belonged (or as close as they could get to where they belonged within a relatively small area), and even organized them. He could shuffle a deck of playing cards a dozen times, then use his power and the cards would organize into their proper new-deck order. Or, alternatively, he could make them appear in any order he wanted. He could organize things by color, size, date, whatever. He fixed and put things in their proper place.


    It was also a power that had nothing to do with nature, a fact that annoyed their father given how out of theme it was. Which was just par for the course, really. Errol didn¡¯t fit in with his family in any other way, so why should his power be any different? At least Sequoia thought it was cool.


    Sighing once more, the boy sat back at his computer and hit the button to turn his webcam back on. ¡°Sorry,¡± he started, ¡°it was just my sister. Where were we?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± his homework partner assured him, ¡°I think we were on number seventeen?¡±


    On the computer screen, Izzy Amor shook her head while lamenting, ¡°I¡¯m sure glad you understand this algebra stuff, cuz I¡¯m completely lost.¡±

 Interlude 17B - Amber

    The sound of someone aggressively clearing their throat made Amber O¡¯Connell jolt a bit. That surprised twitch was followed by a brief, relatively minor shot of pain in her hand as her reaction made the mug she had been holding onto splash some of its hot coffee out. It was enough to make the dark-haired girl focus on where she was. Specifically, the rearmost booth inside Rosie¡¯s Rascal, an old diner that had been around and owned by the same family since the sixties. Not that anyone called it Rosie¡¯s. For unknown reasons, even though the name of the place was technically (and written on the sign and menus as) Rosie¡¯s Rascal, everyone who went there regularly referred to the place as Rascals. Without the apostrophe, as in multiple rascals, not belonging to one in particular. Again, no one seemed to know why the moniker was pluralized that way when it wasn¡¯t in the actual written name. It was just one of those things. You accepted it or you looked like a clueless tourist by calling it Rosie¡¯s.


    With a hiss from the coffee splashing over her hand, Amber reached out to pick up a couple napkins. Belatedly, she realized she had been staring off at nothing for the past¡­ several minutes, at least. It was a thought that made her wince a bit while putting the napkins against her hand as she turned to see who had been so intent on getting her attention. It was an older guy in an old blue navy coat that had seen better days thirty years ago and was now more patches than original material. He wore a tattered old beanie over his head, and the scowl across the man¡¯s dark-skinned face was enough to make his annoyance clear if his intensive throat-clearing hadn¡¯t done the trick. ¡°It¡¯s Thursday. I sit there on Thursday. It¡¯s time for pie.¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey, Earl.¡± The new (quite familiar) voice came from behind the man, as Jerry Meuster approached and put a hand out gently. ¡°Come on now, let¡¯s get you seated at this table right over here. I¡¯ll spot you an extra slice of pie tonight.¡±


    While the public knew Jerry as the Minority Star-Touched Whamline, at the moment he certainly wouldn¡¯t have been recognized as such. Rather than his dark army camouflage costume and gauntlets, the red-haired, muscular boy wore a heavily grease-stained white shirt with blue pants and an apron with the name of the diner scrawled across it. The Rosie¡¯s in ¡®Rosie¡¯s Rascal¡¯ stood for Rosie Meuster, Jerry¡¯s great-grandmother. His family had owned and operated the place for all these decades. Jerry himself had basically grown up in the diner, and still helped out whenever he wasn¡¯t busy with Minority-related things. The fact that his family owned the place gave him a ready-made excuse to disappear anytime he needed to without worrying about explaining things to a boss.


    Earl, however, shook his head stubbornly. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna go to another table. It¡¯s Thursday. This is my table. It¡¯s time for pie. This is where I sit. It¡¯s my place. Our place. We sat here. She can¡¯t, she can¡¯t anymore. But I can. This is our spot. Thursday night pie. We sat here. I sit here.¡±


    A sharp pang went through Amber that had nothing to do with the coffee that had spilled on her hand. Immediately, she slid out of the booth. ¡°It¡¯s okay, he can sit there. It¡¯s not a big deal.¡±


    Jerry looked uncertain for a brief second before giving her a grateful nod as she picked up her coffee and slid over into the next table. Mouthing his thanks, he turned back to the man in question. ¡°Here we go, Earl. Have a seat. You want the pecan and a cup of decaf, right?¡±


    ¡°Pecan,¡± Earl agreed, head bobbing a few times sharply and definitively. ¡°That¡¯s what I have. It¡¯s Thursday, I have pecan and coffee. Decaf, can¡¯t have caffeine, bad. She said it was bad. I can¡¯t have it. You¡¯ll make sure, right? You¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s not caffeine. Has to be decaf. Has to be. Sh¨Csh-sh-she doesn¡¯t want me to have caffeine.¡± With each repeated stutter as he tried to force the word ¡®she¡¯ out, the man jabbed two fingers none-too-gently against his forehead.


    While Jerry gently agreed that he would get the pie and make sure the coffee was decaf, Amber found herself staring into her own mug. The same thoughts that had made her gaze off at nothing a minute earlier before Earl had interrupted were back. The same thoughts that had taken up permanent residence in her mind in the hour or so since Paintball had finished telling the story.


    Or rather¡­ since Cassidy had finished telling the story. Paintball was Cassidy Evans. All this time, all the things they¡¯d done, all that worrying about how some boy in middle school was supposed to deal with the secrets he was keeping, and it turned out that the ¡®boy¡¯ was actually Cassidy Evans, the daughter of literally the richest family in Michigan. Not to mention Amber¡¯s classmate, whom she had spent plenty of time with over the past few weeks. The entire time, the entire time she¡¯d known Paintball, Amber had also been spending time with Cassidy. And she never knew, she never even slightly suspected that the two were the same person.


    Part of that, of course, was the efficiency of the disguise. No one who knew Cassidy would think that she would willingly pretend to be a boy. It just¡­ wasn¡¯t who she was. She didn¡¯t obsess over looking girly or anything, but it was pretty clear that being teased about it had bothered her for a long time. Which was why the thought that she would willingly and actively pose as one, to the extent of using a voice changer to even sound male, had never even occurred to Amber.


    But it went beyond that. So far beyond. Yes, Paintball was Cassidy Evans, but her family was part of¨Cno, her family was the Ministry. They ran it, they founded it, they were the leaders. They controlled the Ministry and through that they controlled the city and had their hands in almost every Touched (Star and Fell alike) who lived there, to one extent or another.


    It was, to put it simply, a lot to take in. The whole situation was so much to deal with. She had no idea how Cassidy had managed by herself for so long before even being able to talk to Izzy about it. And speaking of Izzy, how was she dealing with this whole thing? She was a kid. Yeah, technically she was only a few years younger than Amber, but still. Those were important years! And not only was she dealing with the Ministry thing, that was coming right after that whole horrible bit with her mother. So Izzy had to deal with the fact that her actual mother had tried to do that terrible, fucked-up thing, and the people she was living with were the leaders of the Ministry. It was just¨Cit was bad. It was a lot to deal with for anyone, let alone someone as young as Izzy was. Amber had no idea how she or Cassidy were acting as normal as they were. With everything that those two were dealing with, it was practically a miracle that at least one of them hadn¡¯t completely lost it already.


    Honestly, it probably shouldn¡¯t have been that much of a surprise. The Evans were billionaires, with a b. The idea that they had absolutely nothing to do with an organization built around profiting off of the Touched in the city, and controlling as many of the teams as possible was¡­ naive, at best. Of course they were the Ministry. In hindsight, it was obvious. They¡¯d built their entire empire around the concept of building up as much of Detroit as possible. Who else would have the kind of funds and resources it would take to bribe, blackmail, and control as many people as the Ministry obviously did? Again, incredibly obvious now that she thought about it.


    Yeah, the whole thing was totally clear in hindsight. Well, not totally clear. She still had a lot of questions. Probably at least half as many as Cassidy herself had. God, Cassidy. What kind of pressure had that girl been under for all this time? It hurt to even think about.


    And then, of course, there was the question that Amber had been asking herself ever since she first started to find out what the Ministry did. They chose whether to either allow or disallow crimes, and to help the bad guys who paid them get away with what they did. So, what about the man who had stolen that car and killed her father with it in a hit-and-run? She still needed¨Cno, she still had to know if the Ministry had anything to do with how effectively he had disappeared. There had been no real evidence to find the guy, and Amber was convinced someone had helped him. What if that was the Ministry, if it was Cassidy¡¯s parents?


    And there was more than that. Even if they hadn¡¯t intentionally allowed the man to escape, she refused to believe they couldn¡¯t have used their resources to track him down. They controlled practically all the organized crime in the city, and she was supposed to think they were incapable of putting a tiny fraction of that toward making sure the man who killed her father faced justice? It might be different if they didn¡¯t know her enough to actually know about her father¡¯s death, but they did. They knew exactly who she was, and what sort of pain she had been through. They could have found the man. She absolutely believed they could have if they wanted to. Yet they hadn¡¯t. And she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the whole reason they hadn¡¯t was so that she would be motivated. Because of course, they didn¡¯t only control the crime in the city. They controlled the heroes too. They had to make sure there were effective Star-Touched to serve as deterrents against criminals who didn¡¯t pay their taxes or whatever shit they called it. What if they had seen motivating Amber to train and work harder as more important than actually finding her dad¡¯s killer? What if she had been spending all this time playing their obedient little soldier, all while they used her father¡¯s death as motivation for her? All while using her grief to manipulate her. The thought of all the time she had spent with Silversmith, looking up to him, learning from him, thinking he was¡­ that he was such a good example¨CShe¡¯d wanted her dad to meet him. God, the thought made her eyes water as she stared down at that coffee mug. She¡¯d spent so long wishing her dad was still alive, and a not-insubstantial-percent of that time wishing he could meet Silversmith. She thought they¡¯d get along. She¡¯d thought¨Cshe¡¯d thought¡­ God, she was so stupid.


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    Sterling Evans was Silversmith. That in and of itself was enough to send her reeling. The man she had looked up to as a mentor for a long time was Cassidy¡¯s father. Yeah, she¡¯d already basically figured out before all this that the Conservator leader had to be connected to the Ministry, given how much sense it made with the way Paintball had been acting. But this was a step beyond. Silversmith was Sterling Evans, and the founder/leader of the Ministry itself, along with his wife.


    All of which made that whole fear that they had had something to do with letting her father¡¯s killer escape even worse. She knew Silversmith, she spent plenty of time with him, learning and training under his guidance. And she had looked Mr. Evans in the face. He had once told her in front of the school, while taking something in for Cassidy, how sorry he was to hear what happened to her father. And now¡­ now after all that, he might¡¯ve been responsible for helping her dad¡¯s killer escape? Yes, it was hypothetical, but¡­ but even the thought of it made her want to scream until her throat tore, and then vomit. And if it turned out to be true, if it turned out that Sterling Evans really had allowed that piece of shit to get away? She didn¡¯t know how she would be able to restrain herself.


    And yet, she had to. That was the whole problem. Just like Cassidy and Izzy, Amber had no choice but to play dumb. She couldn¡¯t let on that she knew anything, no matter what. And the prospect of that, of having to go on playing good little Minority soldier was just¡­ hard. But if Izzy could do it, she could too. She would push her feelings and apprehensions down and play the part. For now, at least. But in the meantime, she was going to find out more. They had that secret base under the mall to check out. She would look for answers there, and once they fixed Paige and got her and that twin of hers into separate bodies, she would ask both of them what they knew about what happened to her dad. Paige knew all sorts of things about the Ministry, she might be aware of that.


    The point was, she was going to find out the truth. She had no idea what she would do with it once she had it, but she was absolutely going to get it, no matter what. And then¡­ then she would go from there, somehow. But she had to know if the Ministry had intentionally allowed the man to escape (and profited from that directly) or simply neglected to bother finding him (and profited from it indirectly).


    She was still stuck in those thoughts, and suspected she would be for quite some time off and on, when Jerry sat down across from her in the booth with a curious frown on his freckled face. ¡°You okay?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°You¡¯ve been staring at that coffee for so long you could probably let a baby swim in it without any problems.¡± Belatedly, he amended, ¡°I mean, heat-wise. There¡¯s still all the problems you¡¯d have from having a baby swim in coffee. Can they even¨C¡± He cut himself off with a sharp cough. ¡°It¡¯s cold, is what I¡¯m saying. You want a fresh cup?¡±


    For a ridiculous and clearly stupid moment, Amber considered telling him what was going on. Not about who Paintball was, of course. Just the Ministry stuff in general. She very briefly thought about it. But no, of course, that would be stupid. Stupid beyond belief, actually. She had no idea how much he already knew. She didn¡¯t know how much anyone on the team knew. Except Jae. If Jae was involved with this stuff, Amber would eat every shoe in her closet.


    And yet, she couldn¡¯t tell her either. She had no idea how the girl would react, even if she really didn¡¯t know anything yet. It was just¨Cit was too complicated right now. Besides, she had promised Paintb¨CCassidy that she would keep everything secret.


    And if she wasn¡¯t going to tell Jae, she sure as hell wouldn¡¯t say anything to Jerry.  They worked together, fought together. She¡¯d trusted him to have her back in very dangerous situations, and he had always come through. Beyond that, she had spent some time here at the diner while off-duty, enough that no one would think him sitting down to talk to her was weird. But despite all that, there was no way she could trust the boy far enough to tell him the truth. She¡¯d trusted Silversmith too, and look where that had gotten her?


    All of that ran through her mind in a brief moment before she offered him a faint smile. ¡°Thanks, that would be great. Sorry, I¡¯ve just been thinking about my dad a lot lately.¡± That much, at least, was absolutely true. Which helped her sell the lie part of that response.


    Grimacing, Jerry gave a short nod. His hand moved to touch hers briefly. ¡°That still sucks, Amber. Did they¡­ I mean, did they find something new? I just¨Cnot that it couldn¡¯t be on your mind anyway, but I just thought if they¡¯d picked up some new evidence, or something that could¡¯ve¨CI mean¡­¡± He made a face, shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, never mind. Stupid question.¡±


    After a brief hesitation, Amber swallowed. ¡°No, no new evidence or anything. Just started thinking about him a little bit, and when I do that, it¡¯s hard to stop.¡± She gave another very faint, wavering smile, trying to look as normal as she could. ¡°It¡¯s¨Cokay, it¡¯s not fine. It sucks, just like you said. It¡¯s fucking awful, and I can¡¯t¨CI can¡¯t stop¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she exhaled, placing both hands flat against the table while making herself speak as clearly as possible. ¡°I¡¯d love some hot coffee, thanks.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡± For a brief moment Jerry hesitated before meeting her gaze. ¡°And seriously, Amber, if you ever want to go talk about him, I¡¯m down for that. Just to listen. I don¡¯t¨Cwhen I was little, my grandma died. I was only a kid, but I remember her. I remember how much it hurt to be at the funeral. And I remember it helped if I could talk about her. I just¨Csorry. It¡¯s nothing compared to you and your dad. And I¡¯m not exactly a therapist or even much of a friend. But like I said, if you want to talk about him, I can be quiet and let you say anything you need to.¡±


    Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Amber nodded. ¡°Thanks, Jerry. If I need to talk, I umm, I¡¯ll keep that in mind. And you¡¯re wrong, you are a good friend. I just¡­ I think I need to be alone right now so I can think.¡±


    Giving her a very slight smile of acknowledgment, Jerry stood and took the cold mug away. He stepped over to fill it up with fresh, hot coffee and set that down in front of her before quietly telling the girl it was on the house. Then he moved to help another customer on the opposite side of the diner.


    Not wanting to waste a second cup of coffee after how nice the boy had been, Amber made sure to sip from it while sitting there. She still had far too many thoughts and emotions running through her mind to be entirely healthy, but she tried not to get completely lost in them. Whatever ended up happening, whatever she found out about her father¡¯s death and how much the Ministry had known about it, she would deal with it. She just had to take things one step at a time, and the first step was actually getting into that base.


    Well, okay, the first step apparently was making sure Cassidy and her new sidekick/partner didn¡¯t end up getting themselves killed by investigating that girl who was supposed to know something dangerous about Pencil. Not to mention Pack. She¡­ she couldn¡¯t let anything bad happen to Pack either. And that whole situation made things even more complicated.


    With a long, heavy sigh, Amber took another gulp of coffee before glancing over her shoulder. The old man from before, Earl, was sitting in the other booth. His attention was centered on the half-eaten piece of pecan pie in front of him as he poked at it with a fork. He was muttering to himself, something about responding to words his obviously late wife had said at some point in the past. There was a tremor to his voice that made Amber flinch. She had no idea how long ago his wife had passed away, but he was obviously still deep in grief. How long had they been married? How long had he¨C


    It was none of her business. Making herself turn away to stop gawking at the man so he could have the privacy he deserved, Amber focused on her own coffee once more. For a few seconds, she just stared at it. Would she be like that guy, sitting here thinking about who she had lost? Would she end up trapped in her memories like that?


    No. Not her. She didn¡¯t blame Earl at all. Whatever happened to his wife, there was obviously nothing he could do about it. But she could absolutely still do something about her father. She could find out the truth, and make sure whoever was responsible got what they deserved.


    With that in mind, Amber drained the last of her cup and set it down before rising. She left a ten dollar bill on the table despite what Jerry had said and gave the boy a nod before heading for the exit. A moment later, she passed through to the street, as the little bell above the door gave a friendly jingle.


    Once out in the open air, Amber looked both ways while taking in a deep breath. Yeah, whatever happened next was obviously going to be dangerous, terrible, and hard. But at least she would be doing something. At least she would actually find out the truth, and handle whatever came with that. But for now, she was going to go home and try to get some actual sleep.


    Because the next few days were going to be pretty damn busy.

 Hostile Witness 18-01

    Needless to say, I had a lot to talk with Izzy about by the time I got home that evening. My parents were still gone, but Skyped in over a laptop placed at the head of the table so we could have an approximation of family dinner night. The room behind them in the camera just looked like any of the other hotel suites we¡¯d stayed at, so it didn¡¯t exactly tell me much about where they were.


    After that, Izzy and I stayed in my room and pretended to be playing video games while we discussed everything that had happened. And boy was it weird to be in my room like that after being in the virtual recreation of it when that whole thing with Paige¡¯s father went down. Sure, it had been my room as it was decorated in the past, but still. It made me feel strange, sitting there while images of that whole fight played out in my head.


    In any case, before we started, I made it clear that there were some big things I had to tell Izzy, but wanted to do it all in order. So that was exactly what I did, going through everything that had happened inside the virtual reality space in order. God was it ever tempting to jump ahead to the really big stuff, but I felt like it was important for her to have all the actual context.


    And boy did she ever react when I eventually got to that big stuff. The controller dropped from her hand when I talked about taking my helmet and mask off in front of That-A-Way, and she was suddenly staring at me with wide eyes. I pushed on with a quick nod of understanding, explaining everything all the way up through Way eventually revealing her identity to me, and the two of us having our talk at the end. And, of course, everything that had been established about Paige and the newly dubbed Raige as far as what we needed to do to help them.


    Throughout the entire remainder of the story, ever since I got to the part about taking my helmet off, Izzy had completely stopped even the pretense of paying attention to the game. She was facing me with her mouth open, as it clearly took everything she had not to suddenly interrupt. And yet, once I finally finished, she didn¡¯t say anything at all. She just stared in silence, as though everything she¡¯d been bursting to say simply vanished entirely from her mind in that moment.


    ¡°So yeah,¡± I finally announced, breaking the silence once it had dragged on for almost thirty seconds. ¡°That was my day. How was yours? Anything interesting happen? Ooh, did Claudio make that special layered pudding? He said something about making that before, and¨C¡±


    ¡°Are you freaking kidding me right now?!¡± the girl suddenly blurted out loud, flailing a bit while literally jumping to her feet. ¡°You know about Amber and she knows about you and she knows that I know about you and also everything else that happened to you and everything about your family, and you actually think we¡¯re gonna talk about pudding?!¡±


    Yeah, maybe I had a little too much fun with the whole thing. Restraining my smirk, I managed a mostly straight-faced, ¡°Well, if he made it, I should probably know so I can run down there.¡±


    That earned me a kick while the younger girl rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh please, as if your family¡¯s personal freaking chef wouldn¡¯t whip it up for you the second you asked for it.¡± After pointing that out, she focused once more. ¡°Seriously, she really knows everything about everything?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°There might¡¯ve been something here or there that I forgot to mention, but basically yeah. That¡¯s why it took me so long to get home. We kind of had a lot to go over. Do you realize how busy the past¡­ just over a month has been? I got my powers in the second week of March, and it¡¯s April sixteenth now. At this rate, I¡¯m gonna cram a decade worth of stuff into the rest of the year. Which is convenient, since dealing with my family is gonna age me that quick too.¡±


    ¡°At least Amber knows what¡¯s going on?¡± Izzy pointed out with a shrug. ¡°That¡¯s something.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s definitely something,¡± I agreed. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t¨CI¡¯m glad she knows. And that I know. It¡¯s just¨Cit¡¯s really complicated in other ways. It¡¯s going to take awhile for me to wrap my head around this whole thing. And honestly, I¡¯ve got the really easy side of it. I can¡¯t even imagine what she¡¯s going through right now, or what sort of things she¡¯s thinking about all of it.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s response, as she glanced over toward the window, was a quiet, ¡°I can.¡±


    Her words made me hesitate before looking that way to hesitantly ask. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Hm? Oh, yeah.¡± Turning to meet my gaze, Izzy tried to give an encouraging nod. ¡°It¡¯s just a lot, you know? I was just thinking about what it¡¯s like to have the whole thing dumped on you at once like that. I mean, I¡¯m glad I know, and I¡¯m glad that we can talk about everything. Believe me, I¡¯m really glad.¡± She sighed then, flopping back down into the bean bag chair as if all the strength had left her. ¡°It feels really heavy sometimes.¡± Her eyes had closed briefly through that before opening to focus on me. ¡°How do you handle it? They¡¯re your family and all that and you have to keep lying right to their faces. You have to hide basically everything now.¡±


    Swallowing the thick lump that tried to form in my throat, I answered in a soft voice. ¡°It¡¯s not easy. But I¡¯m not the only one with problems. Plus, I have you to talk to about it.¡±


    ¡°And Amber,¡± she pointed out with a very small smile.


    ¡°And Amber,¡± I agreed, nudging the girl. ¡°So hey, that¡¯s some of the pressure off you, I guess. Spread out who has to deal with Cassidy¡¯s mental breakdown.¡± With that¡­ sort of joke, I cleared my throat. ¡°Anyway, right now, what I really want is to find out more about how their whole operation works. Not to mention separate Paige and Raige. And the way to do both of those things is to break into that mall base. So I guess that¡¯s our next main thing to focus on. Which¨Chey.¡± I blinked a couple times as a thought occurred to me at that moment.


    ¡°What?¡± Izzy asked, shifting a bit on the bean bag to stare at me curiously.


    ¡°I just realized,¡± I murmured before looking over to meet her gaze. ¡°If Amber knows that you know about everything, and you know that Amber knows, then¡­ maybe you can be involved a little more. You know, if you want to. I mean, instead of hiding at the library or whatever when the two of us are supposed to be out together and I¡¯m with the others, you could¡­ come? Between you, Amber, and me, we can come up with a story about how you know about the Ministry that¡¯s close to the truth without really exposing everything. We still have to hide that you have any knowledge of the Ministry from everyone else, obviously. Can¡¯t take any chances about my parents getting suspicious. But when we¡¯re just at Wren¡¯s or doing this tunnel thing, maybe¡­ you could be there. You know, if you want. You could meet Pack without fighting.¡±


    Shifting in the bean bag so she could look at me, Izzy hesitated before asking, ¡°Are you sure? I mean¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly considering all of that. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right. If we made up a reason for me to know about the Ministry beyond, uh, you know¡­ living in their house.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll just say you had your own encounter with them or something,¡± I agreed. ¡°Way¨CI mean Amber¨CI mean Way can help. God, that¡¯s gonna take a lot to get used to. After all that stuff we did at school and¨C¡± Belatedly, my eyes widened. ¡°You think Jae knows about her? I mean she has to, right? They¡¯re pretty good friends, and that¡­ that guy Amber knew from that other school with the car. Damarko? It was Damarko. Is he¨Cwait, no. No. Don¡¯t tell me, don¡¯t say anything.¡± My head shook, hands already covering my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not even gonna look at your reaction. Do not tell me anything about that. I¡¯m gonna stop trying to guess. That¡¯s not fair to them. Or to you, putting you in the middle like that. God, I don¡¯t even know how you managed to keep quiet about Amber for so long. You¡¯re really good at keeping secrets, you know that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ doing my best,¡± came the quiet response. There was a moment of silence after that before Izzy added, ¡°But, that means you know I¡¯m keeping secrets right now. Still. I¡¯m still keeping secrets. They¡¯re not my secrets to tell, you know? I just¨CI don¡¯t wanna lie to you, Cassie. You¡¯re my friend. You¡¯re¨C¡± She swallowed hard before reiterating, ¡°You¡¯re my friend. But they¡¯re my friends too. I can¡¯t just¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop.¡± I quickly shook my head. ¡°Izzy, it¡¯s okay. I told you, I don¡¯t want you to tell me anything about them. I just got caught up for a second with the whole Amber being That-A-Way thing. Really, I promise, it¡¯s totally okay. Don¡¯t tell me anything that isn¡¯t yours to tell.¡±


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    Nodding slowly, Izzy hesitated before asking, ¡°Do you think Amber¡¯s mad because I didn¡¯t tell her anything about you even though we¡¯re supposed to be teammates and everything?¡± Her voice trembled just a little as she squirmed, clearly feeling even more of that weight on her shoulders.


    ¡°What? No!¡± I quickly insisted, setting the game controller down before turning fully to face her. ¡°Izzy, she¡¯s not mad at you. Seriously, she knows why you kept my thing secret, just like I know why you kept her identity secret from me. No one¡¯s mad at you or anything. It¡¯s okay.¡± Shrugging then, I added, ¡°Actually, she kinda wants to meet tomorrow morning. We figured the three of us could go out, grab some breakfast, and talk in a park somewhere. We¡¯ll just tell Jefferson that we¡¯re taking an Uber so we can have breakfast with a friend and we¡¯ll make it to school on our own. Actually, I better send him a text about that. He does better with schedule changes if he has all night to let it settle. Err, that is, if you wanna do that?¡±


    Izzy was already nodding quickly before I¡¯d even finished asking that. ¡°Yeah, I¨Cyeah.¡± It looked like she wanted to say more than that, but clamped her mouth shut and simply kept bobbing her head with obvious eagerness. She definitely wanted to have the chance to talk with Amber and me together about this whole thing.


    So, I sent that message to let Jefferson know, before the two of us spent another twenty minutes or so talking about what happened and what we were going to do next. Izzy was visibly nervous about the prospect of meeting Pack and all the associated stuff that would come with that, so I did my best to calm her down. And, of course, made it clear that she didn¡¯t have to do anything she didn¡¯t want to. If she preferred to stay out of things and just be my alibi and confidant, that was completely fine. She, however, insisted that she wanted to help more and be involved. And now that Amber was on-side, she actually could. She was just, well, understandably nervous.


    Either way, we finished up and headed for our separate beds. Tomorrow was already promising to be a pretty big day. As I watched Izzy on her way out my door to go back to her room, I hesitated before calling, ¡°At least you¡¯re never bored around this place, huh?¡±


    She paused there, hand on the doorknob before looking over her shoulder to me. ¡°Bored?¡± the girl echoed with a snort. ¡°No, definitely not bored. But isn¡¯t there like a Chinese curse or something about living in interesting times?¡±


    My head tilted. ¡°Yeah, sounds familiar. Maybe we can ask someone over there the next time my parents decide we¡¯re going to China.¡±


    ¡°The next time¨C¡± Cutting off her own disbelieving voice, Izzy shook her head. ¡°Wow, dude.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, I was kidding!¡± I called as she started through the door. ¡°We don¡¯t have to go there to ask, I know Google exists!¡±


    ¡°You ought to,¡± came the response as Izzy began to close the door after herself.


    ¡°Your parents probably own a big chunk of it.¡±


    *******


    So, the next day (which was Friday, April 17th), Izzy and I got up a bit early, cleaning up and dressing before heading out. I had texted not only Jefferson, but Chef Claudio as well to let him know he didn¡¯t have to make any food that morning. Not for us, anyway. They still tended to cook for the rest of the staff, of course. That was one of my parents¡¯ firm rules. Everyone who worked in the house got to eat just as well as we did, were paid incredibly well, and received a full slate of insurance and medical assistance. It was all about maintaining loyalty. Which, now that I knew more about my family¡¯s whole thing, made even more sense. Obviously I¡¯d never been anywhere near that situation, but I was pretty sure there were a lot of people who would turn a blind eye to anything criminal they might¡¯ve seen if their boss was taking that much care of them. A good salary, benefits, insurance, and retirement plan went a long way toward something like that.


    So, Izzy and I stopped in at one of the local fast food chain restaurants, meeting Amber at the door on the way in. As soon as she saw her teammate (and boy was that something that would take awhile for me to get used to thinking), the younger girl immediately froze up, stopping practically in mid-step. Despite the assurances I had given her, Izzy was clearly still afraid of how Amber would react to the revelation of the pretty major secrets she¡¯d been keeping.


    Thankfully, Amber seemed to realize that without any prompting and immediately stepped that way before embracing the other girl. ¡°Hey there, Izz!¡± Obviously, she couldn¡¯t really say anything out in public like this, but she did the best she could with that simple and immediate hug. ¡°It¡¯s so good to see you again,¡± she announced at least partially for the benefit of anyone who might wonder why meeting at a fast food place warranted a hug. ¡°Feels like it¡¯s been forever.¡±


    After a brief hesitation, Izzy returned the embrace. I could tell even from standing nearby that she¡¯d really needed it. Which just reminded me of why she needed it. The kid had literally been sold to a gang of supervillains to be tortured into obedience. And not just by anyone, by her mother. Her mother had done that. No wonder Izzy was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and making someone who was supposed to care about her completely turn. After all, if her mother had done it, anyone could do it.


    If we ever found that fucking bitch, I was gonna let her know just how annoyed I was with her.


    In the interest of not making any more of a scene than we already had, the three of us went to the counter and bought a bag full of breakfast sandwiches along with juice and coffee (for Amber and me, Izzy wasn¡¯t a coffee person yet) before heading out again. We made our way to the nearest park and sat at a table in a corner where we had a full view of everything around us in all directions. From here, no one would even be able to get within shouting distance without us seeing them, let alone close enough to hear our murmured voices. We were safe to talk.


    Which probably meant it was ironic that the three of us were completely silent for over a minute. We just sat there, staring at one another. We weren¡¯t even eating yet, so that wasn¡¯t a ready excuse. A few times, one of us started to say something, before falling silent. It was clear that no one really knew what to say. We had the time and privacy, but nobody had the right words.


    Finally, I managed to find my voice first, somehow. Probably because I¡¯d already talked to both of them separately, while they were still stuck staring at each other while trying to feel out how they were each feeling. I supposed that was one benefit I had in this whole situation.


    ¡°So we¡¯re all here,¡± I announced, drawing the immediate attention of the other two. ¡°And on the same page, for once. Everyone here knows everything. Or should, unless I forgot something while I was playing exposition fairy.¡± Considering that briefly, I shook it off. ¡°Yeah, same page.¡±


    ¡°Two different Paiges, actually,¡± Amber teased before holding up both hands. ¡°Sorry, sorry. Yeah, we¡¯re on the same page. Everyone knows who everyone else is, and what¡¯s going on with the Ministry.¡± She looked at me then, squinting a bit thoughtfully. ¡°Your parents. I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t realize it was them. I mean, come on, they¡¯re the most powerful unaffiliated people in the city. Supposedly unaffiliated. Everything they do is mysterious, they have lots of free time. And your dad, he¡¯s really¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly finding it hard to finish that last sentence.


    ¡°He¡¯s Silversmith,¡± Izzy murmured in confirmation, her own voice soft enough to barely be audible. Apparently she was still struggling with that too. Which just meant that the three of us had something else in common. ¡°He¡¯s Silversmith and he¡¯s a bad guy.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s both good and bad,¡± I pointed out. ¡°I mean he¡¯s done good things and bad things. The people he saves as Silversmith really would have been worse off without him. Like you, Izzy. He saved you from those Oscuro people. He¡¯s done a lot of good and I don¡¯t¨CI¡¯m not saying that to excuse him. Yeah, he¡¯s my dad, but I know he¡¯s done a lot of bad things too. They both have. I¡¯m just saying there¡¯s more, you know, nuance to this whole thing. That¡¯s why I want to find out more. We can¡¯t do anything until we know exactly how the Ministry works, who else is in on it, how it came to be a thing, all that. And to do that¨C¡±


    ¡°We need to get into that mall base,¡± Amber finished for me, voice flat. She was looking at me intently. ¡°But are you sure you¡¯ll be able to handle it if¡­ when the time comes to actually do something about this Ministry, about your family? I mean, you¡¯re right, there¡¯s¡­ more nuance to the good and bad thing.¡± Even as she said that, her gaze shifted off me to look off into the distance thoughtfully, before she swallowed hard and focused. ¡°But if it comes down to it¡­¡±


    ¡°If it comes down to it,¡± I answered, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Honestly, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gonna happen or¡­ or what I¡¯m going to do. Or what I even could do. But I¡¯m trying. I¡¯m¨CI just have to know the truth right now. I just need to know everything I can about them, and go from there.¡±


    Our gazes met, holding that way for several long, somewhat tense moments before the other girl exhaled. ¡°Good,¡± she announced. ¡°If you said you were ready to lock them up and throw away the key, you¡¯d have been lying. Either to us or to yourself. Not being sure, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s the truth.¡±


    Folding my arms against my stomach as it rolled a bit queasily, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, well, I owe you that much at least. But seriously, we have to get in that base. Not just to find information, but for Paige and¡­¡± I coughed at the name. ¡°And Raige too. Seriously, we need her to pick a better name. Maybe when we get her a body of her own.¡±


    ¡°Which we can only do by getting in that base to find the addresses,¡± Amber finished with a nod. ¡°Yeah. So that¡¯s the next big thing on the to-do list. But hey, at least it means we can finally focus?¡±


    Snorting at that, I pointed out, ¡°Except for the fact that Alloy and I have to go find and talk to that Amanda chick about any potential weaknesses Pencil has, sure. Totally focused. Oh, and I have to go over to the Seraphs place so I can finish up working there. And¨Cyeah. Point is, I¡¯m totally focused, yup.¡± I gave two thumbs up to them.


    ¡°Okay, one, Pack and I are both helping you and Alloy with the Amanda thing, you two aren¡¯t going by yourselves,¡± Amber reminded me. ¡°She¡¯ll be right there with you and I¡¯m playing back-up.¡± She paused before glancing to Izzy. ¡°We?¡±


    Izzy answered with a firm nod. ¡°We¡¯re playing back-up.¡±


    ¡°See? It¡¯s all working out after all.¡± Offering them what was probably a pretty unconvincing smile, I added, ¡°Now let¡¯s eat this breakfast.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the three of us getting in trouble for missing school wouldn¡¯t help me deal with this to-do list any faster.¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-02

    Going to classes with Amber that day was weird, after everything I knew now. But then, it was obviously weird for her too. I kept seeing her glance over at me, catching me looking at her. Not that we actually said that much to each other all day long. And when we did talk, it was while Jae was around at lunch. So we didn¡¯t exactly get into anything important. Which was just as well. Talking about secret stuff at school was probably a bad idea anyway. We had to be careful.


    We did, at least, take a couple of minutes out in the yard behind the school between classes to have a quick conversation about what was going on. Apparently she had already talked to Pack, and we were going to deal with that whole Amanda situation tomorrow. I wanted to hope it would be a simple in and out thing where we got her to tell us what she knew, but I wasn¡¯t counting on it. We were going to have a plan just in case everything went sideways. After all, when it came to anything involving Pencil and the Scions, it was almost certainly best just to assume that things were going to end with screaming, terror, and probably a lot of fire. And that was probably if things were going relatively well.


    I also exchanged a few texts on my second phone with Peyton herself, setting up a time to meet up and talk. She couldn¡¯t do anything immediately after school, thanks to some sort of plans with her mother that she couldn¡¯t get out of. Not that I would have wanted her to try anyway. She needed to make things seem as normal as possible for the clearly very protective woman.


    So, we were going to meet up around eight in the evening instead. The next day was Saturday, so there wouldn¡¯t be as much of a push for her to be home early. We could find a private place and¡­ and talk. Yeah, I wasn¡¯t going to give her my full identity just yet. But she deserved to know the truth about the Ministry, and about why I couldn¡¯t let myself join up with any of the established teams. She deserved to know what we were dealing with, and to decide if she wanted to back off entirely. She still had that choice. Peyton could just walk away from this whole thing without too much trouble.


    Yet, I found myself hoping she didn¡¯t. Yeah, it was selfish, but I couldn¡¯t help it. Just the fact that she had been right there watching my back inside that whole computer simulation thing had helped a lot. Yeah, Pack and That-A-Way had been there too, and that was even more helpful. But Peyton was¡­ Peyton was a partner. I barely knew her, yet what I did know was that she was really brave, not to mention competent. It was¡­ it was good to have her around.


    Still, if finding out the full truth, or at least as much as I could tell her, about the Ministry made her want to jump out of the pool and walk away, I wasn¡¯t going to stop her. I wouldn¡¯t try to talk her out of it. Mostly because if I had been in her situation, I wasn¡¯t sure I wouldn¡¯t want to walk away from the whole thing. It was a hell of a lot to deal with. This was my family, my problem. I had to be involved. She didn¡¯t. She could be safe. So if she wanted out, she deserved that much.


    Either way, I would deal with all that later, after actually telling the girl what was going on. For the moment, it was the end of the school day and I had something else to deal with. Namely, going over to the Seraph place so I could actually finish up my chores there. After all, it was probably a good idea for me to get that done before they decided I was trying to skip out on the work. I wasn¡¯t sure what they¡¯d do if they had to chase me down and get more stern about it, but it was a situation I wanted to avoid in general.


    Still, I didn¡¯t go straight over there. Instead, I took the ride home with Jefferson and Izzy, spending about an hour there to make things look as normal as possible. Also, homework. Yeah, I still had that to deal with too. I was pretty sure my parents would have a few questions if I started getting straight F¡¯s in all my classes. It wouldn¡¯t do much to help me keep my extracurricular activities secret. So I spent an hour doing as much of that as I could, setting a little bit aside to cram on later that night before bed. Then I called my mother as Jefferson had said she wanted, having a conversation with her about how school went, what I was planning to do that night (at least, the version I was willing to tell her), and about what they were doing (at least, the version she was willing to tell me). Yeah, we were a completely normal family, alright.


    Once that little charade was over with, I took the time to have a little snack in the dining room with Izzy, the two of us chatting about utterly meaningless stuff to give the impression we had nothing better to worry about. Yeah, another charade. If I¡¯d had any spare time, I might¡¯ve signed up for the drama club, because I was getting to be a pretty good little actress.


    Finally, I made a point of telling Izzy, within earshot of a couple housecleaners passing by, that I was going out with a few friends and would be back in a few hours. We made a show of making sure she would text me if she needed anything, before I headed out. Of course Izzy knew what I was really doing, but we had to cover our bases in case (okay, when) my parents asked the staff what the two of us had been up to while they were gone.


    Taking an Uber to a small strip mall that was about a mile from the Seraph headquarters,  I stopped in a nearby alley behind one of the shops and changed into my costume. From there, I painted my way across the remaining distance, taking the time to wave at a few people who called out when I was passing by. I even left the logo I¡¯d made up while at Ten Towers (the black oval with Paintball written in white intricate cursive letters and a rainbow spray of all the other colors from one side to the other) in a couple places for them to take pictures of. They seemed to like that a lot, especially if they could get photos of me moving in front of the logo.


    At some point, I had asked myself why I did this sort of thing. I mean, obviously it was kind of fun to be liked and cheered on, and it helped me push negative thoughts away. But there was another, more important reason I did it. If worse came to worst and my parents started to use the Ministry against ¡®Paintball¡¯, they might try to shift public opinion and make me look bad. I wanted to get ahead of that by making sure as many people as possible actually liked me.


    Was that selfish or¡­ or wrong? Was it manipulative? Yeah, maybe. Probably. But I only had so many ways of protecting myself against the sort of things the Ministry could do to make me look bad. I had to stay ahead of that sort of thing. Besides, I wasn¡¯t exactly¡­ lying or whatever. I really did enjoy having fun by showing off for these people. Actually, that was probably the biggest thing connecting Cassidy Evans to Paintball. I had always loved to show off for an audience while doing my tricks on my board or blades, when I¡¯d done gymnastics, or even that brief, single semester of cheerleading back in junior high.


    The point was, I liked attention and I liked showing off. But I did have a valid, strategic reason for wanting to make people like having Paintball around. Anything to make it harder for the Ministry to cast me as a bad guy or a threat. Not that I expected to be completely immune if they decided to really come after me, but every little thing helped.


    In any case, I made it to the front gate of the headquarters and found Matthew Orens on duty. After greeting the man, I slipped off my backpack and dug inside until I found the (already laminated) papers on which I had drawn the pictures and text for his son¡¯s storybook. The two of us had worked out what the general story should be and how to insert Josh (his son) into it. The man had a few specific details he had wanted to be included that would make his kid feel like he was really the person in the book. Phrases he liked to say, a pet turtle that needed to be seen, that sort of thing. Basically, I had made a thirty page story about Josh and his turtle (named Kiwi) going on an adventure through time using a magical skateboard that took them to various parts of history.


    After reading through it and examining all the pictures I¡¯d made, Orens looked up to me. ¡°Two things. First, I¡¯ve got a guy who can bind these pages into a real book cover. Think you could stop by in a couple days to put a picture on that? Josh¡¯s birthday is next Wednesday.¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°Yeah, of course. I¡¯ll come back before then and help finish it up. Uh, is it okay though? What was the second thing?¡±


    ¡°The second thing,¡± Orens informed me, ¡°is that this is good. Really good. A kid with his turtle time traveling with a skateboard? You should think about working on your writing to make it a little better. Take some extra classes or something when you get into high school. I mean, it¡¯s good, the basic story is great. You just need a little technical help. Anyway, the point is, having a job that¡¯s easy to make your own hours for is good for people like you once you get older and can¡¯t rely on your parents anymore. And being a writer, from what I hear, that¡¯s a pretty good choice. Practice for a while and you could probably make a living with stuff like this.¡± He waved the papers demonstrably. ¡°Kids¡¯ll probably love it. Just keep it in mind. Hell, if you published as Paintball, you¡¯d get a lot of readers just from the novelty of reading a book drawn and written by a Star-Touched. And they have a whole system set up for keeping your identity secret in those cases.¡±


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    Flushing just a little, I nodded. ¡°Uh, thanks. Really, thanks. I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± With that, I started to move around him to head for the gate.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t you want to get paid?¡± the man asked, reaching for his wallet.


    ¡°Uh, nah, why don¡¯t you wait til we finish up,¡± I replied quickly. ¡°Once I put the pictures and stuff on the cover, then you can pay me.¡± Part of me wanted to say that he didn¡¯t need to pay anything at all, but I had a feeling he was too proud for that. Besides, it probably wouldn¡¯t do great things for my secret identity to act like I didn¡¯t need money like that. And I could always hand the cash over to Wren for building the business we were trying to get off the ground. After all, he was right about one specific thing. I couldn¡¯t just rely on my parents forever.


    Making my way back to the building where I¡¯d been working, I took a moment to talk to Tricia Peppernickle, the elderly lady I¡¯d met before, who was back behind the desk. Of course, she insisted I take another handful of hard candy from the bowl on her desk, and talked about a couple of her grandkids for a minute before sending me on through.


    From there, I headed past the security lasers using the pass code I¡¯d been given, back to the room where I¡¯d already been working. It looked like someone else had come through and done a little work on it as well while I was gone. But there was still plenty to do, so I got back to it. I had to move broken furniture out to the freight elevator, then go down with it and leave the stuff in a pile on the loading dock at the bottom. I did, of course, have a few reflexive questions about why there was a loading dock several levels below ground level. But I¡¯d heard rumors about a large, truck-sized tunnel leading away from the Seraph HQ. Looking at the enormous rolling metal door at one end of the loading dock, I figured the rumor must be right. They had an underground tunnel leading somewhere that a truck could drive through. That made me wonder where it came out and which vehicles used it.


    Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t really ask. Mostly because I was pretty sure they wouldn¡¯t answer that sort of question, and it might look a little suspicious to be asking where their secret tunnel went. Especially considering I was here in the first place because I¡¯d helped steal from them. Yes, it was for a good cause, and they knew that. But still. Trying to get details about that sort of thing almost certainly wouldn¡¯t go over that well.


    So, I just relegated that to a bit of curiosity that wouldn¡¯t pay off anytime soon and kept working. I had to finish up with the last of the debris, then stack the remaining folders in the filing cabinets I had already put back into place in the other room. When that much was done, I headed out to the hall to find the phone Patchwork had pointed out the other day and dialed zero before asking the woman who answered on the other end to send Bernard out for help patching the holes in the walls.


    Bernard, as it turned out, was a middle-aged black guy with a cybernetic eye that was a bit distracting. He was pretty cool about it though, popping the little metal orb out and showing me what it looked like. There were tiny wires that attached themselves to the eye socket when it was inserted, in order to send the visual input to his brain. He claimed that taking it in and out didn¡¯t hurt at all, but I was still a little creeped out by the idea. Still, it was really cool for him. Apparently one of the Seraph Tech-Touched in another state had made it in exchange for some sort of special work Bernard had done for them.


    He brought the stuff to start patching the holes, and the two of us spent forty-five minutes or so to get that all done. He even told me some stories about being a support member of the Seraphs while we were doing that. Apparently, his wife had been one of the early Touched members of a Seraph squad over in Chicago (where he¡¯d gotten the cybernetic eye), before being killed while helping to deal with a Collision Point. I expressed sympathy, and he looked sad for a moment before assuring me that it had been over twenty years by this point. Which actually just made things worse, because it made me think about how young of a couple they must have been when she was killed. Yeah, Abyssals were pretty awful.


    Eventually, we had the holes patched, and I used my power to paint the walls the way he said they should be. Meanwhile, Bernard stood by with his arms folded and gave a low whistle. ¡°Boy,¡± he remarked as I finished with one wall, ¡°you make this a hell of a lot easier than doing it the old-fashioned way. You say this stuff won¡¯t disappear or whatever? It¡¯s permanent?¡±


    My head bobbed a bit. ¡°As far as I know, it should stay as long as I don¡¯t activate it for my power. And I don¡¯t really see any scenario where I¡¯d need to activate the paint inside this specific room. Or you can scrub it off with paint remover, or, you know, whatever.¡± I shrugged a little. ¡°Point is, it should stay like normal paint on the wall as long as you want it there.¡±


    Giving me a thumbs up, the man slowly looked around the room with a smile. ¡°You did good work here, kid. If this hero thing doesn¡¯t work out, maybe you could get a job as a contractor.¡±


    Snorting, I casually replied, ¡°That¡¯s the second suggestion of a mundane job I¡¯ve gotten in the past couple hours. Should I take that as a hint that my hero stuff is slacking?¡±


    He laughed out loud at that, shaking his head. ¡°Not a chance. From what I¡¯ve seen on the news and the YouTube, you¡¯re pretty damn effective for a kid. Hell, even for an adult. Anyway, like I said, good work. I think you can consider your debt repaid.¡± Abruptly, he snapped his fingers. ¡°Oh, shit, except there was one more thing Patches and Hallowed wanted you for once this was done. You should probably head up and ask Tricia at the desk to ring them up for you. And hey, thanks for this, kid. I know you sorta had to do it but still. You really saved me and my squad a lot of work.¡±


    Flushing a little behind the mask and helmet, I assured him that it was no big deal, then headed out to follow his suggestion. Tricia promptly made the call, speaking with whoever was on the other end for a minute before disconnecting. ¡°Okay, sweetie,¡± she addressed me, ¡°have a seat over there for a minute and they¡¯ll be right with you.¡±


    So, I did. For about ten minutes, I sat idly, checking out magazines from the table nearby and alternately chatting with the woman herself. She had a lot of stories about what it was like to do her job, and loved to tell them. It was pretty sweet, honestly.


    In the end, it was Hallowed himself who showed up. He still looked incredibly intimidating, with his glowing golden armor, expansive metal wings, and an enormous sword attached to his back. Enormous even then, but I knew it could get even bigger (larger than the man himself even) when he deployed it.


    Thankfully, he seemed to be in a good mood. Not that I could really see his face through the helmet, but there was a smile in his voice as he greeted me. ¡°Paintball, good to see you again. Glad to hear you finished up. Bernard tells me you did a good job.¡±


    Okay, part of me reflexively wanted to ask when he had spoken to Bernard, given I¡¯d needed to have Tricia call to tell him I was ready. But that was clearly at least part of what that ten minute wait had been about. He¡¯d probably just called the man up to find out how I did and to make sure I was really done.


    So, shaking that off, I simply nodded. ¡°Oh, uh, well thank him for me. I couldn¡¯t¡¯ve finished up without his help. Paint I can do, but I¡¯ve never really patched holes before.¡± Abruptly, a grin found its way to my face. ¡°And I didn¡¯t even have Patchwork to help.¡±


    Hallowed gave a soft chuckle, and I heard Tricia snicker behind me. Before he could say anything else, the door slid open behind him and a small black form came flying through to land on the man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Have I missed the opportunity to extend the invitation myself?¡±


    ¡°Invitation?¡± I echoed before catching myself. Quickly, I waved. ¡°Hi, Dad!¡±


    That, of course, prompted another round of chuckles, especially when Lucent greeted me in kind. ¡°I pray you are endeavoring to make your family proud, my boy.¡±


    Thinking briefly about what would really make my family proud, I grimaced and pushed those thoughts aside before forcing a casual, ¡°Oh, you know, I¡¯m doing my best, Pops. You¡¯ve really got to take me out one of these days and show me how to be a real hero.¡±


    The dark-eyed raven gave me an intense, clearly curious look before he spoke up. ¡°Yes, I do believe that would be quite an interesting and rewarding excursion. If you truly wish such a thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uhh¡­¡± I¡¯d been kidding, of course, but now I nodded. ¡°Sure, I mean, at some point. It¡¯d be cool to get some real tips from someone like you.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± came the cheerful response. ¡°And I shall introduce you to a friend of mine along the way while she is in town. Shall we say¡­ Sunday? You may call to let us know what a good specific time would be.¡±


    Really fast, but I was pretty curious to know what it would be like to go around the city with him. To say nothing of how fun it would be to fuel those rumors about our relationship. Besides, I also wanted to know who this friend of his was. So, I nodded in agreement. ¡°Sure, do I just call the main desk and ask for you or something?¡±


    He confirmed that, before Hallowed cleared his throat. ¡°That sounds like a good idea. And speaking of invitations¡­¡±


    ¡°What¨Coh, right.¡± I flushed a little. ¡°Sorry, sir, you had one more thing you wanted me to do to make up for that whole¡­ yeah, that thing?¡±


    His head shook. ¡°I would say your debt is paid by now. This is more about an invitation, as I said. You see, we¡¯re having a bit of a party next weekend with a lot of important guests visiting. There¡¯s a dinner and a whole round of speeches. We would like you to attend as one of our guests. I promise, you won¡¯t have to give a speech and we always protect everyone¡¯s identities. But it would be very nice to have you here, perhaps answering a few questions. And your new partner, of course. Does she have a name?¡±


    ¡°Alloy,¡± I informed him, my mind spinning already. ¡°And uhh, yeah, I think we can come. I¡¯ll make sure she¡¯s okay with it. But you really want us to come to your fancy party? I don¡¯t think I have a tuxedo version of my costume. Oooh, but maybe I could paint it to look right.¡±


    Chuckling, the man assured me, ¡°I think you¡¯ll be just fine as you are. When you come over on Sunday, we¡¯ll arrange the details. Just find out if this¡­ Alloy is going to come with you. It¡¯s next Saturday, around eight pm. The food will be worth it, even if you have to sit through some boring speeches to get to that. And hopefully, not all of them will be boring.


    ¡°After all, Sterling Evans is supposed to be making one of them. And I hear he¡¯s pretty good at keeping things interesting.¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-03

    So yeah, apparently I was supposed to be attending a party where my dad was going to be giving a speech. Attending a party as Paintball, that was. I¡¯d attended plenty of events where my dad was speaking when I was just myself, of course. But now I was supposed to sit there, play nice, and pretend I was totally oblivious while he went on some long spiel in front of a whole crowd. I couldn¡¯t show any reaction to the things he would be saying. Worse, what if they asked me questions about it? What if they wanted to ask how the new young Star-Touched in Detroit felt about all the wonderful things the city¡¯s richest family was doing to improve everyone¡¯s lives?


    I also couldn¡¯t back out now. It would probably look a little suspicious if I had been okay with going to this thing right up until they mentioned my father¡¯s name. Even if they didn¡¯t have any connection to the Ministry, that would probably make them curious enough to poke around. And the last thing I wanted was anyone ¡®poking around¡¯ when it came to my family. Besides, just because they might not have a connection to the Ministry didn¡¯t mean that anyone they asked about my reaction wouldn¡¯t. Yeah, that whole thing could get really complicated, really fast.


    And there was more than that, of course. I wouldn¡¯t be the only one there. So would Alloy,  assuming she agreed to go. For a brief second, I had actually considered just not sharing the invitation with her, to avoid that entire situation. But honestly, I¡¯d seen way too many TV shows where someone had tried something like that and it backfired in their face the moment someone else asked the person why they¡¯d refused the invitation they didn¡¯t even know existed. Just because I couldn¡¯t think of anyone right now who would say anything like that to her didn¡¯t mean it wouldn¡¯t happen. And the last thing I wanted to do was create some sort of trust problem between the two of us just because of a stupid mistake on my part. I had enough issues already. Enough things I wasn¡¯t sharing. So yeah, I was going to have to tell the other girl about the invitation and probably deal with her being there too.


    Speaking of Peyton, it was finally time for me to go meet up with her, after catching a quick bit of dinner at a nearby Chinese place. I changed back into my civilian clothes to do that, of course. Fun as it might have been to be recognized and continue that whole ¡®building public opinion of Paintball so my parents couldn¡¯t easily tear it down¡¯ thing, I needed a quiet place to think about what I was going to say to the girl who had thrown herself so thoroughly into being my partner.


    The restaurant had been just what I needed, at least as far as privacy went. I¡¯d managed to get myself seated in a rear, quiet corner by saying I really needed to read for a school project while slipping the hostess a twenty dollar bill. From there, I ate some really good food and spent the next forty-five minutes trying to settle on exactly what I would tell Peyton when we met up.


    Unfortunately, while the food was incredible, my brain wouldn¡¯t cooperate. Even now, as I started to leave the restaurant and move toward the alley where I could change, I honestly had no idea what I was going to say, or how far I would go with my explanation. All I could do was play it by ear. At the very least, I would tell her about the Ministry, and in general terms how I had found out about them. But I kept going back and forth on whether I should reveal my identity to her. We were supposed to be friends and partners. Plus, some of that Band-Aid had already been torn off by the fact that Amber and Izzy knew about me. It felt somewhat easier to trust someone else with that. And yet, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I still barely knew Peyton. I wasn¡¯t sure how she would react to this whole thing, so maybe it was better to just give her the general information about the Ministry and see how that went before telling her anything else?


    I was so involved with my own thoughts about that whole thing that I almost walked right into someone as I came out of the restaurant while they were starting to walk in. Only the fact that they blurted my name snapped me back to the real world in time to come up short.


    It was Arleigh Fosters. If Paige hadn¡¯t existed, Arleigh would¡¯ve been our school¡¯s resident rich, hot blonde cheerleader type. Even though she wasn¡¯t actually a cheerleader, she still had that same look and all. And the same stereotypical meanness. Not to mention racist, given the things I¡¯d heard the girl say at school. All in all, Arleigh was not a pleasant person to be with.


    And yet, there was a pretty major difference between her and Paige in that she¡¯d always been nice to me. She never insulted me, and always acted like we were¡­ if not friends, at least friendly. Which kind of made me feel gross, to be honest. She tried to slide herself into my life whenever the chance arose, and basically laughed off any retort I made as though I was kidding. As horrible as she was to Jae (after deciding that the other girl had been trying to steal her now ex-boyfriend just because said boyfriend commented on Jae being cute), she was overly pleasant to me, because of who my family was. It was sickening.


    Actually, now that I knew more about the Paige situation, she and Arleigh really were opposites. Paige was a bitch to my face, but had been secretly trying to help because she cared about me while being incapable of showing it. Meanwhile, Arleigh was nice to my face because she wanted to have that connection to me¨Cor rather, to my family. But she was obviously a nasty snake who didn¡¯t give a shit about me or anyone who wasn¡¯t herself.


    Sure enough, as soon as she saw me recognize her, the girl put on a bright smile. ¡°I knew it was you. Hey there, Cassidy. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve met my brothers, have you?¡±


    That made me notice the two guys on either side of the girl. The guy to her right was clearly older, probably around Simon¡¯s age. He was also blond like Simon. But taller. He was several inches over six feet and very well-built. Almost distractingly so, damn. He looked movie-star nice.


    Meanwhile, the boy on the other side of Arleigh was¡­ very different. About the only similarity connecting him to his siblings was the fact that he was blond. But, unlike their perfectly cared for thousand dollar haircuts, the mop atop this kid¡¯s (he looked like he was twelve or thirteen) head was stringy and unkempt, sticking out every which way. He was skinny enough to almost look unhealthy, and wore glasses. Yeah, if he hadn¡¯t been standing right there, and possibly if I hadn¡¯t outright been told about their relation, I wouldn¡¯t have connected this kid to Arleigh Fosters.


    The girl herself was gesturing back and forth between first the older guy, then the younger boy. ¡°This is Micah and Errol. Guys, this is Cassidy Evans. She¡¯s cool.¡±


    Oh boy was I ever so thrilled that someone like Arleigh thought I was cool. Or rather, claimed to think I was cool. I was going to rush right home and write in my diary about how the two of us could be best friends and go to college together and then have families living right next to each other. Because gee golly willickers, I definitely believed that she actually liked me.


    And yes, it took basically everything I had not to say that out loud. Not because I was worried about what the girl thought about me, but it was probably a bad idea to draw attention to myself. With everything that was going on, I didn¡¯t want to give Arleigh any reason to focus on me any more than she already did. I just did not have the time or energy to deal with her when I had so many actual problems that mattered.


    So, rather than allow myself the moment of catharsis that telling this girl exactly what I thought of her would give, I simply replied as flatly as possible, ¡°Great to meet you guys, you¡¯ve got good taste in restaurants, have a good time.¡± The words were mechanical, coming automatically just as they had any time my parents had dragged me to one of their special fundraisers or other functions where I had to play nice and be polite to people I really couldn¡¯t care less about or be more bored by. Then, as now, I just wanted to say as little as possible before getting out of there. To that end, I attempted to simply slip past them and keep going.


    Unfortunately, Arleigh¡¯s older brother, Micah, put a hand on my arm. His voice was casual, though his grip was tight in a way that made it clear that he wasn¡¯t accustomed to being gentle. ¡°Hey, your brother¡¯s Simon, right? Where¡¯s he been lately? We were supposed to have a game the other night with a bunch of guys, and he just sent some lame excuse about business or something. I was on a hot streak too, could¡¯ve taken some of the weight out of his wallet.¡±


    Managing to pull my arm free from his grip, I shrugged. ¡°Yeah, he and our parents went to New York for some kind of business thing. I don¡¯t know anything else about it.¡± Glancing away to stare across the parking lot briefly before looking back, I added, ¡°They don¡¯t exactly keep me in the loop about all that stuff. All I know is they had to go. I think Dad¡¯s involving Simon in business more so he can take an official position or something.¡± I was trying to keep everything I said as casual and uncaring as it would have been if I didn¡¯t know the truth. I had to sound like a teenage girl who didn¡¯t really care what her parents and brother were up to.


    Not that Micah really seemed to be paying attention to my tone. A snort escaped him at the explanation. ¡°Yeah, sure, it doesn¡¯t have anything to do with him wussing out of the game.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± Arleigh retorted before I could respond, ¡°the guy probably makes like a hundred k a month allowance or some shit. You really think he¡¯s afraid of losing a few thousand to you in a card game?¡± She focused on me then, eyes rolling as though we were actually sharing some kind of moment in being annoyed by her brother. ¡°He¡¯s just pissy because Dad¡¯s making him save up for a better car on his own. And his idea of ¡®get a job¡¯ is fleecing guys at poker.¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t mess with what works,¡± Micah shot back before giving his sister a ¡®light¡¯ shove that made her yelp a bit and stumble. Then he actually winked at me. ¡°Speaking of which, how much do you know about cards? Actually, doesn¡¯t really matter, I could totally teach you. You get an allowance from Mommy and Daddy Moneybags too, right? Could be a lot of fun.¡± He was practically waggling his eyebrows in a way that made me instinctively want to punch him.


    ¡°Uh, no thanks.¡± I shook my head, starting to move around them once more. ¡°I already said I¡¯d meet somebody else. But good luck on your whole gambling thing, hope that works out for you.¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Hey, you girls.¡± Before I could leave, another voice called out. And good lord, what was with this restaurant doorway attracting people who knew me?


    When I looked toward the source of the voice, however, I realized that she might have known me, but I definitely didn¡¯t know her. At least, I didn¡¯t think I did. She stood only about four inches taller than me, with light brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Definitely pretty in a tomboy sort of way, and I was gonna guess she was in her late twenties. She also moved very¡­ smoothly, like a dancer gliding across the pavement.


    ¡°Oh my God, dude,¡± Arleigh groaned as the woman approached, ¡°I told you, I don¡¯t know where she is.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know where who is?¡± I asked, looking back and forth between them.


    ¡°Just checking to make sure you didn¡¯t hear from her,¡± the woman calmly informed Arleigh, though there was a slight edge to that calmness that told me it could vanish in an instant. Then she turned her attention to me. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve got you at a disadvantage. You¡¯re Cassidy Evans. I¡¯m Irelyn. Irelyn Banners. And I¡¯m looking for my sister, Paige.¡±


    Okay, that made me abruptly choke, my eyes widening despite myself. ¡°Wha-what? Paige doesn¡¯t have a sister.¡± Wait, was this a trap? Was this that son of a bitch launching a secret attack? Was¨C


    ¡°You might call me the black sheep of the family,¡± Irelyn replied with a wince. ¡°And from that reaction, I¡¯d say everything I¡¯ve heard about how you and Paige get along was accurate. Sorry, I really don¡¯t know what her deal is. I just¨C¡± She exhaled. ¡°I don¡¯t exactly spend a lot of time with her. Never have, since our parents adopted her after I ahhh¡­ left. But I tried to take her out for her birthday and she never picked up the phone. Never responded to texts or e-mails. And she¡¯s not home. The school says our parents took her on a trip, but no one knows where exactly, and there¡¯s no one¡­ actually at the house.¡± She squinted at me, as though wondering if I had answers. ¡°It¡¯s like they all just disappeared. And no one is answering any calls. The last time anyone saw her, or our parents, for sure was her birthday party.¡±


    Ooookay, this I really didn¡¯t expect. Mentally reeling while trying to hide it, I blinked a few times at all that as if it was new information. ¡°Uhh, really? Maybe it was a uhh, you know, surprise trip to one of those remote places.¡±


    ¡°Dad doesn¡¯t go offline,¡± the woman flatly informed me.


    ¡°Yeah, well, we don¡¯t know where she is, dude.¡± That was Arleigh, putting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°If we did, we¡¯d tell you, okay? Why don¡¯t you go tell the cops or one of the Touched teams about your missing sister? I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll get right on it.¡±


    Swallowing the thick lump in my throat, I managed, ¡°Do you have a phone number? I mean, can I have your phone number. If I hear anything¡­¡± Boy was I going to let Paige have it for not mentioning that she might have a secret big sister poking around wondering where she was.


    Irelyn gave me the number, and I made a note of it before promising to let her know if I heard anything at all about Paige. Meanwhile, Arleigh started to say something else about school, but I was already starting across the sidewalk to the parking lot. On the way, once I was almost to the asphalt, I glanced back to see that Irelyn had gone into the restaurant already. Which left Arleigh and her older brother having a quiet, yet intense-looking whispered conversation in the doorway. Meanwhile, the younger boy was looking at me, just as silent as he had been throughout all that. What was his name? Errol? Yeah, that was it. Like Errol Flynn. But boy did he not seem anything like what I¡¯d heard about that old actor guy. This Errol had been completely quiet through the entire interaction, essentially a fly on the wall while his siblings bulldozed over the whole conversation. Briefly, I wondered how often they completely forgot he was there.


    Right, it didn¡¯t really matter. I had nothing to do with their family dynamics. So, I mentally shrugged that off and kept going. The next time I glanced back, they were gone. Presumably, they¡¯d finally stepped into the restaurant. So, I pushed those thoughts aside and jogged away. Paige had an older sister. How had I never known that? How did she just fail to bring it up? What kind of trouble was this going to be?


    Shoving those thoughts away, I moved over to the alley to change back to my costume, keeping an eye out for anyone paying too much attention to the young teenager slipping off the main street. It was all clear, so I found my hidden spot and changed, sliding my regular, everyday clothes into my backpack.


    From there, I took a running start and red-painted myself up to the roof of another building, giving a loud whoop on the way. Of course, out here, my aim was perfect. I hit the exact part of the roof I¡¯d been trying for. Yeah, there was definitely an aspect of my power that I didn¡¯t understand. Maybe more than one. I had that really good aim, but I was also able to navigate through that dark forest perfectly. And, now that I thought about it, the whole navigation thing affected more than the dark. Could a normal, regular person instinctively find and land on the exact parts of a building, billboard, or even telephone or light pole as easily as I did while racing my way across the city? I hadn¡¯t really focused on that too much before, but seriously. I did this stuff instinctively, as though I¡¯d done it for years. I just reflexively knew how to twist my body to land where I wanted to. Not completely perfectly, of course. But still. It had to be more than simple luck. Especially now that I¡¯d seen how things worked in the virtual reality world. I definitely had some sort of extra mental power that was helping me out with all that. I really needed to test that, see what its limits were and what else I could do with it.


    And hey, now that both Izzy and Amber were on board with this whole thing and knew my secrets, they could help with all that. Especially Amber, come to think of it. She had her own extra navigation mental power, after all. She always knew what compass direction she was facing. So, maybe she could help me figure out how my whole thing worked. Huh, it turned out there were benefits to actually sharing important information with people, who knew?


    In any case, I eventually made it to the parking lot behind a clothing store that was being renovated. This was where I was supposed to meet Peyton, and sure enough, there she was. I landed on the edge of a roof nearby and took a look around first to make sure no one was spying on her. Once I was assured that the coast was clear, I jumped off the roof and used orange paint on my boots to land smoothly a few feet away.


    ¡°Hey, Paintball!¡± Pivoting my way as I landed, Peyton waved. She was wearing the marble-costume I¡¯d seen that first night, the more knight-like gold and black armor with a white helmet, while the remaining three marbles lazily orbited around her head. ¡°Didja trip over any more huge life-threatening dramatic problems on your way over here?¡±


    Flushing a little behind the helmet, I waved that off. ¡°Haha, you¡¯re hilarious. And you better hope I didn¡¯t, because me not being super-busy for two seconds is your best chance to actually get some answers about what¡¯s going on.¡± Sobering slightly then, I mentioned in slightly vague terms about how I¡¯d heard that Paige apparently had a sister no one knew about, who was looking for her.


    ¡°Dude, a secret sister¨Cwait, is she part robot too?¡± Peyton demanded.


    ¡°Not as far as I know,¡± I murmured thoughtfully before waving it off. ¡°No, no I don¡¯t think so. Anyway, the point is, it¡¯s something else to deal with. But what about you? Are you okay? Everything¡¯s cool between you and your mom?¡± Her mother was obviously pretty protective, and the last thing I wanted to do was get the other girl in trouble just for helping with my stuff.


    Peyton, in turn, shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s okay. But don¡¯t change the subject. You promised you would tell me what¡¯s actually going on around here. I mean, I know it¡¯s gotta be something big just from what I picked up so far, but I need you to fill in the blanks so I can kick my imagination out of the driver¡¯s seat. Cuz quite frankly, it¡¯s trying to take the car off a cliff right now.¡±


    Yeah, she was definitely nervous about this whole thing. For a brief moment, I wondered if telling her all of this stuff was actually the right thing to do. She was already anxious, and knowing the truth probably wouldn¡¯t fix that. But then, she deserved to know. She¡¯d earned that, and it wasn¡¯t my place to keep her in the dark just because I thought it was for her own good. Much as I often lamented knowing what I did about my family, I wouldn¡¯t want to go back to being in the dark. Not really. And I certainly wouldn¡¯t want someone else to make the decision for me.


    So, taking a breath, I looked around before noticing some cement steps nearby that led up to the back of the store. Beckoning for her to follow, I walked that way and sat down. Once Peyton dropped beside me, I looked out at the lot and began to tell her at least some of the truth. I kept details about my family and my identity out of it for the time being, but gave her a basic rundown of how I¡¯d first encountered the Ministry, what they were and how they worked as far as I could tell. Instead of saying that I¡¯d seen my brother at the mall and followed him in to hear him talk about that whole thing with criminals paying for the right to operate in the city, I just told her I recognized the man from that first night.


    I did feel bad about not telling her the full truth and basically lying by omission, but this was a lot to dump on her already as it was. Once I knew how she would react to this whole thing, I¡¯d get into more details. Assuming this actually worked out, of course.


    ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± I told her flatly once that was done. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve sort of skirted around some details. I won¡¯t lie to you about that. There¡¯s a few specifics, even important specifics, that I didn¡¯t mention. It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s a lot. I don¡¯t want to lie to you or anything. There¡¯s things I¡¯m not going to tell you yet. Sorry, I really am. I just¡­ I can¡¯t get into that stuff right now. But everything I have told you is the truth. That¡¯s what the Ministry is, and they¡¯re why I¡¯m not joining any teams. They have their fingers in everything, every team on both sides. They control the city.¡±


    Peyton was silent for a minute, clearly digesting all that. She rocked back and forth there on the step while the three extra marbles went still and motionless around her head, as if they too were thinking about that whole thing. Finally, the girl looked over to me. ¡°So, they do good things and bad things. I mean, yeah, they let a lot of crime happen. But crime¡¯s gonna happen everywhere, no matter what. And look at how much better Detroit¡¯s doing than it was before Touched came along. I had to do a history report about this place in the 90¡¯s, and it wasn¡¯t pretty, Paintball. My mom even showed me some pictures from back then, and the city was¡­ you know, pretty bad. When powers came, this place could¡¯ve turned into a complete warzone. I¡¯ve seen like, journalist people pointing out how easily things could¡¯ve gotten worse instead of better. If this Ministry had anything to do with directing things this long, they can¡¯t be all totally bad, you know?¡±


    Meeting her gaze, I replied, ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s complicated, I know. They¡¯ve done some good things, and probably even stopped a lot of much worse stuff from happening. But they also kill people. They do bad things too. I just¨Cyou know, I have to find out just how much power they have and what they¡¯ve done to consolidate it. They¡¯re the most powerful group in town, and even if they have some good intentions, there¡¯s no one to stop them from going too far.¡±


    After considering that briefly, Peyton nodded. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. And either way, I¡¯m with you. Seriously, Paintball, you saved me, more than once. And I like working with you. That whole thing in that VR place, that was crazy, but it was also like¡­ the best?¡± She exhaled. ¡°I know it¡¯s dangerous and terrifying and all that. All of this is. And my mom would kill me if she knew I was anywhere near this stuff. But I wanna be here. I want to help. Just¨Cmaybe think about the good stuff these Ministry people have done too. I swear, I¡¯m not ignoring the murder stuff. I¡¯m not. But maybe they can be¡­ you know, fixed?¡± She added the last bit with a helpless shrug.


    ¡°I dunno,¡± I murmured. ¡°But at the very least, we¡¯re gonna find out more about them when we break into that secret mall base.¡±


    ¡°You actually have a plan for that?¡± the other girl pressed.


    Offering a smile that she wouldn¡¯t be able to see, I cheerfully replied, ¡°Sure do.


    ¡°How do you feel about tunnels?¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-04

    Talking to Paige about the Irelyn thing was going to have to wait for the time being. I wasn¡¯t ready to go asking the girl why she hadn¡¯t mentioned having an older sister who would start sniffing around. That was all just¡­ complicated. I needed to deal with something else first.


    The next morning, we finally got an official update about Simon and my parents. Supposedly, they would be back in the city by Tuesday. It was now Saturday, so apparently whatever they were so busy with was going to keep them occupied for another three days. Part of me wondered if they were in that secret mall base at that very moment, and I almost wanted to go there and pink-paint my way straight through the door to ask them what was going on. That would have been unfathomably dumb, of course. And it would have accomplished basically nothing. But I still had the impulse, as much as I pushed it aside.


    In any case, worrying about what my parents were up to could wait, as we had more immediate things to focus on today. Namely, the fact that we were going to check out that Amanda girl, and hopefully come out with some information that would actually help stop Pencil and the Scions.


    Also important was the fact that this would be the first time all of us worked together in the real world, rather than in virtual reality. Much as that had seemed realistic, this was still a big step. To say nothing of the fact that it was my first time working with Alloy after telling her (most of) the truth about the Ministry, and the first time I¡¯d be doing anything with That-A-Way after both of us had found out each other¡¯s identities. Oh, and we were going to be letting them know that Raindrop knew what was going on and would provide back-up alongside Way if needed. Which was also bound to change things one way or another. Really, the only relationship that hadn¡¯t changed in some way was the one with Pack. And even that wasn¡¯t quite true, considering Way now had to hide the fact that she knew my identity from the girl she obviously liked (and that entire situation was already complicated enough as it had been).


    As far as the household staff knew, Izzy and I were going to spend the day shopping and hanging out in town. The two of us made a big deal about talking up how cool it was going to be, with Izzy making sure to ask me if I knew Simon¡¯s shoe size so she could buy him something for his rapidly approaching birthday. Which was apparently something she really did want to do. She had some idea about buying him running shoes to go with a private joke between the two of us (oh, and Amber now too) about how he should get used to running away because we were going to stop them. Yeah, it was silly, but hey. Whatever helped her (and the rest of us) amuse ourselves a little bit sounded good to me.


    We accepted a ride from Jefferson and let him drop us off at one of the other malls. Thanking the man, the two of us made a point of walking inside together so the man could see it happen before he left. I didn¡¯t think any of the staff were suspicious at all about what we were doing, but still. Best to be on the safe side. Besides, we actually were going to meet Amber here.


    But we were also going to be safe about the whole thing. To that end, the two of us walked through the mall and pretended to shop for about twenty minutes. Well, I pretended. Izzy actually did buy a pair of those shoes she had been talking about and carried them with us as we made our way to the arcade. Amber was already waiting there at the Skee-Ball game, but there was a younger boy actually playing on the next lane over, so we moved to the other side of the room, where the pinball machines were. Those were empty, and the three of us had a brief, whispered conversation. Even then, we didn¡¯t say anything completely obvious. We used a lot of insinuation and talking around the actual specifics while making sure all of us were ready to head out and meet up with Alloy and Pack.


    Once outside, the three of us cut across the parking lot and found our way to the back of an old liquor store that was closed at the moment. The street was a hundred feet away, and there was no one anywhere in sight. Finally, we could actually talk.


    ¡°You doing okay?¡± Amber asked Izzy, while putting both hands on the younger girl¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You and me, we¡¯re going to take it easy today and make the other guys do the legwork, right?¡±


    With a small smile, Izzy nodded. Her voice was a murmur. ¡°I¡¯m okay. I¨CI¡¯m more than okay. I get to help. I mean, if something goes wrong I get to help.¡± She shot me a quick, apologetic look. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to go wrong.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured her. ¡°Hope for the best but plan for the worst. Trust me, I¡¯m just glad we have both of you sitting in the background waiting to jump in. I mean, yeah, I hope this goes fine and we just get the information from her. But if something blows up, I feel a lot better knowing you two have our backs. Makes the whole idea of going in there a lot less terrifying.¡±


    ¡°And I feel better knowing I¡¯ve got Izzy next to me,¡± Amber put in. ¡°Helps when we can split the weight between our shoulders.¡± With a wink to the other girl, she added, ¡°That reminds me, I told Syndicate you and I would do the north-east patrol tonight so all of him could cover Whamline¡¯s route down south, if that¡¯s cool?¡±


    With a quick nod of agreement, Izzy curiously asked, ¡°What¡¯s Whamline doing?¡±


    Amber, in turn, shrugged. ¡°I dunno. Something about another commitment that came up in his civvy life. He said he¡¯d make it up later, but I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s really worried about it except him. From what Syndicate said, he wouldn¡¯t stop apologizing about flaking on a patrol.¡±


    While they talked a little more about that, I excused myself and stepped to the hidden alcove where the back door leading into the liquor store was. Sliding the backpack off my shoulders, I took a minute to change into my costume. Hell, on top of all the other advantages, it turned out that having someone (or in this case someones) who knew my identity made it convenient to have them play lookout while I changed. Which had always been a fairly nerve-wracking prospect to do by myself.


    In this case, however, I was able to change without worrying. Then I stepped out next to Amber and gave Izzy a chance to change as well, while the other girl and I watched for any interruptions.


    And there she was. It certainly was far from my first time seeing Izzy as Raindrop in general, and I¡¯d even been around her a few times in person. Most notably when I¡¯d run into that theater to help her and Amber/Way deal with Suckshot and Landlock. But I hadn¡¯t really known who she was. I¡¯d had no idea that the little girl I¡¯d been spending so much time with at home and had already started to care about, and the badass water-gravity manipulator I fought beside, were the same person. This was really my first time being face to face with Izzy as Raindrop while knowing exactly who she was.


    For a moment, I just stared at her, looking the other girl up and down. She looked the same as Raindrop always did, in her dark blue bodysuit that had those gleaming silver armor panels, and the white cloak with a hood. Her face was hidden behind a helmet with a mirrored faceplate that just showed me my own reflection staring back at me. She was Raindrop. But she was also Izzy. And that was a weird feeling for me to try to cope with. Which made me wonder just how she felt about the situation from her point of view. She was seeing me up close as Paintball too.


    ¡°You two okay?¡± Amber asked, looking back and forth between us. ¡°You¡¯ve been staring.¡±


    Both of us shook off our internal thoughts and confirmed that we were fine. So, Amber muttered something about how weird all this was before taking her turn to change while we kept watch.


    And then we were all dressed. For like the first time, the three of us were heading out together while we were all on exactly the same page. These two, they¡­ they knew the truth. They knew about my family, the Ministry, all of it. And they had my back. Boy, was this a really different feeling or what? Seriously, I was accustomed to stuff being shoved onto my shoulders, not taken off it. This was weird.


    At least it was going to be a long time before I ever had to worry about the weight on my shoulders entirely disappearing. As evidenced by what we were about to do once we met up with the others. Going out of our way to seek information that would piss Pencil off immensely if he even had an inkling that we were trying to get it. As if he wasn¡¯t annoyed with all of us enough as it was. And now I was dragging Izzy into the situation, when she hadn¡¯t been on his radar before? Oh, right, there was that weight again. Like an old friend settling right back into place. This one just happened to be named guilt rather than responsibility.


    Yes, I knew it was dumb to think that way. Logically, I knew Izzy deserved to make her own choices, and that I was only a few years older than her anyway. I also knew I would be dead in the water (and maybe dead literally) without help from people like her and Amber. But no amount of firmly telling myself that would entirely erase the pit in my stomach that got bigger every time I thought about getting people I cared about anywhere near any situation involving that psychotic fucking piece of shit. He made me nervous, I couldn¡¯t help it.


    At least the three of us could move pretty openly together whenever we were out like this. If anyone asked, Amber and Izzy would just say that they had run into me and we decided to do a little patrol together. They could even play it up as if they were trying to convince me to join. So, we would be covered there. As far as today went, meeting up with Pack would be when things got a little more complicated.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    But at least for now, we were fine. And we made fast progress, considering we had deliberately set our changing point south of where we were meeting the other two. It meant Amber could grab both of us and teleport from roof to roof basically the whole way. It was even faster than my typical way of traveling, even if she could only do it in one compass direction.


    ¡°You know,¡± I started while Amber was taking a breath when we were almost to the meeting point, ¡°I could get used to this sort of traveling. Maybe bring along a lawn chair and a book so I can kick my feet up and catch up on some reading.¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Amb¨CWay. I had to think of her as That-A-Way while we were all in costume, or I was going to screw something up badly. Way rolled her eyes and retorted, ¡°The only book I¡¯ll let you get away with reading is our European History textbook for the next project for Mr. Dorn. And since we don¡¯t have one of those yet, I guess you¡¯re just going to have to suck it up and stand while I teleport with you.¡±


    Snickering, Izz¨CRaindrop spoke up. ¡°You guys should probably get all that ¡®talking about things that give away your secret identities¡¯ stuff out of the way now, before we go any closer.¡± After that little bit of teasing, she sobered visibly before somewhat nervously adding, ¡°Are you sure about the umm, about what we¡¯re gonna tell them for, you know, me?¡±


    Way and I exchanged brief looks before the other girl nodded to Izzy. Her voice was gentle. ¡°Yeah, Rain, it¡¯ll work. Trust me, they won¡¯t question it too much. Okay, Pack will probably give you a little crap, but most of that is just going to be screwing with you. She likes to do that just to get a reaction for the hell of it. And part of it will be a test, just in case you were a spy or something. A very young spy.¡± She paused briefly to consider before frowning. ¡°Also, she might try to recruit you. Possibly repeatedly. Just uhh, laugh it off.¡± A thought abruptly seemed to strike her, considering the way her eyes widened. ¡°Oh. If¨Clisten, if she does make a crack about that, don¡¯t take it seriously, okay? I know¨CI mean, that whole thing with¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable as the thought of how the younger girl might react to someone teasing her about joining a villain gang after what her own mother had done clearly came to mind.


    Raindrop, for her part, was quiet for a moment before giving a slight nod, her voice as firm as I had heard it. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she insisted. ¡°I¡­ know the difference between a joke and what¡­ and what happened before. Even a ¡®haha, totally joking unless¡­¡¯ sort of joke, you know? I don¡¯t know her, but you guys do, and if Pack was like that, I don¡¯t think you¡¯d have anything to do with her. She¡¯s not like that, and I don¡¯t think that Blackjack guy is either.¡± From her voice, it sounded like she was giving us some approximation of a smile from behind that mirrored faceplate. ¡°I guess there¡¯s bad bad guys, good good guys, good bad guys, bad good guys, and like¡­ every level of every kind. I just¡ªI¡¯m okay. I¡¯m not gonna freak out just cuz she makes a joke about joining her team.¡±


    I may not have known much about Izzy¡¯s mother, but I did know one thing. She had truly, royally screwed up for not recognizing just how awesome her kid was. What a bitch.


    From the look that Way gave me, I had the feeling she was thinking basically the same thing. But we didn¡¯t say it. Instead both of us nodded to the other girl. No one said anything. Raindrop and I just joined hands with Way once more, and we all made that last teleport jump. Instead of landing on another roof, this final teleport took us inside an old gas station garage that had been directly across the street. The place had closed down a few months earlier and no one had bought the property yet. Apparently there had been some kind of meth gang trying to set up shop here, but the Minority chased them out only a few days earlier, which was how Way and Raindrop knew about it. This was where we were going to meet the others. Being in the garage would keep us safely out of sight so we could talk about everything in complete privacy.


    The others weren¡¯t there yet, probably because we made sure to get there about half an hour early just so we could already be waiting when Pack and Alloy showed up. Then the three of us killed time by once more going over exactly what we were going to say about Raindrop being involved in the situation now.


    Pack was the first to arrive out of the other two. We heard a van pull up behind the building, and That-A-Way stepped over to push the button that made the rolling door go up so the La Casa Touched could back the vehicle  into the garage. The door was lowered once more while she got out, hopping down to the cement and brushing her hands off. ¡°You people really need to¨C¡±


    Only then did she look up, seeing Raindrop standing a bit behind Way and me. Cutting herself off, Pack tilted her head and stared. Her expression was, of course, hidden behind that blank black mask. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t know we were bringing friends. Maybe I should¡¯ve brought one of my own? Eits and Broadway both looked pretty bored this morning.¡±


    Coughing once, I shook my head. ¡°Sorry, this was¨Cuh, yeah. Pack, this is Raindrop. Raindrop, Pack.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve met a couple times,¡± Pack replied dryly. ¡°You know, at work.¡± The way she said that made it clear that two of them had fought on opposite sides. But, she did at least follow that up with a shrug. ¡°It was fun. Hope Twinkletoes didn¡¯t toss you too hard. I told him to be gentle.¡±


    Clearly flushing a little behind her own mask, Raindrop murmured something under her breath before more audibly adding, ¡°It¡¯s okay. I hope the umm, bear wasn¡¯t too scared about floating.¡±


    ¡°Mars Bar,¡± Pack informed her. ¡°And he doesn¡¯t do great with heights, but he¡¯s fine. And now that all those pleasantries are out of the way¡­¡± She looked to Way and me. ¡°What¡¯s she doing here?¡± To Raindrop, she added, ¡°No offense. Just¡­ what?¡±


    Checking the text that had just come in on my phone, I replied, ¡°Alloy¡¯ll be here in a minute, we should hold off and explain it together so we don¡¯t have to do it twice. But uhh, the short version is she knows about the Ministry and she¡¯s gonna help.¡±


    ¡°She knows about the Ministry, huh?¡± Pack¡¯s voice made it clear that she didn¡¯t think it was impossible that even someone as young as Raindrop could be some kind of spy. ¡°Interesting.¡±


    Yeah, we definitely needed to explain what was going on. At least, as much as we could. If we were going to work together, Pack couldn¡¯t be focused on being suspicious about Raindrop. Especially if we were going to do anything that even remotely involved the Scions. That was too dangerous to screw around with.


    As promised, Alloy arrived just a minute or so later, coming up to knock on the side door. As I let her in (wearing the purple-silver Sentai armor version of her costume), she was already talking while panting heavily. ¡°Sorry¡­ Mom¡­ wanted some help¡­ groceries¡­ had to¡­¡± She trailed off, having spotted Raindrop. ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Pack put in, ¡°that¡¯s basically what I said.¡±


    So, without wasting any more time, Way, Raindrop, and I launched into our explanation of what had happened. Obviously, we didn¡¯t want to outright lie too much to these two people we were supposed to be working with. To that end, the very first thing we said was that we were going to be a little vague and twist things a bit to protect certain identities, but that this was the overall gist of the situation. We were right up front about the fact that it wasn¡¯t one hundred percent of the truth, sort of like when a news report or true crime show said that certain details were changed to protect people. And we admitted that some details were twisted more than others.


    In any case, the story we told was that Raindrop¡¯s family had attempted to sell her to Oscuro through that Handler guy. She escaped that situation but was almost captured again before Silversmith stepped in and rescued her. From there, she was sent to live at a safe house.


    All of that, of course, was one hundred percent true, if lacking in a couple key details.


    From there, we basically just said ¡®and then stuff happened that we can¡¯t get into because there are a lot of secrets involved, but Raindrop found out about the Ministry existing and got worried that the whole thing with her parents and Handler might¡¯ve had something to do with them, so we had to tell her more details before she snooped around on her own and ended up getting in trouble.¡¯


    Yeah, there was a good bit of skipping over or outright avoiding details. We yada yada¡¯d Raindrop finding out about the Ministry in the first place with the explanation that saying how she found out would risk revealing secrets we couldn¡¯t reveal. That-A-Way implied that it had to do with her own identity, to protect me. Without actually saying that, of course. It made enough sense, given they were on the same team. Yeah, that skirted the line of outright lying, but it was the best we could do to avoid exposing who I was to the other two, and I just¡­ wasn¡¯t ready for that. Good as it felt to have Way and Raindrop know the truth, I barely knew Alloy (and was already trusting her with a lot as it was), and Pack was still technically a Fell-Touched. I wasn¡¯t ready to go as far as sharing my identity with them just yet.


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure she¡¯s not a plant?¡± Pack flatly demanded, before looking at Raindrop. ¡°Again, no offense. But seriously, come on, guys. How do you know she¡¯s not a mole?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not,¡± I replied. ¡°I just¡­ I know it¡¯s hard to take something like that on faith, believe me, I know. And I can¡¯t really explain it. But just¡­ trust me. If she was a mole, we¡¯d all be locked up right now. She knows everything. There¡¯s nothing for her to be a mole about anymore. If she was really just spying for the Ministry, she could¡¯ve had all of us taken in already. I mean come on, it¡¯s not like they have to catch us in the act of anything. If she was reporting to them, we¡¯d already be in the black van with the hoods, or whatever they do.¡±


    Shifting her weight back and forth a few times as though considering that, Pack was clearly staring intently at the girl in question. Finally, she reached into her pocket and produced Holiday the skink. ¡°What do you think?¡± She held the lizard out that way, allowing Holiday to almost touch Raindrop¡¯s reflective faceplate. When the skink put a foot against it, Pack gave a nod of satisfaction. ¡°Good enough for me.¡±


    Exhaling, I looked at Alloy. ¡°You okay?¡±


    She, in turn, shrugged. ¡°Dude, I¡¯m brand new to all this too. If you say she¡¯s okay, who am I to say you¡¯re wrong? But¡­ that story about what happened, I know you said some of it¡¯s twisted a little for identity protection, but the bit about¡­ about her family¡­¡± She looked at Raindrop directly. ¡°Was that true?¡±


    Raindrop, in turn, gave a very short nod. Her voice was quiet. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡± Clearly swallowing hard, Alloy added, ¡°Sorry. I mean¡­ sorry.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that sums it up,¡± I agreed. ¡°The point is, she¡¯s involved, but we have to be really careful about using her so the Ministry doesn¡¯t find out she knows anything.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Thinking about that for a moment, Pack finally shrugged and looked at Way. ¡°Guess you¡¯ve got someone to talk to while you wait around to see if we need backup, huh?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± Way agreed. ¡°And speaking of plan, we should probably get into ours.


    ¡°Cuz boy I just can¡¯t wait to go poke the Scions with a stick. This is gonna be nifty.¡±

 Non-Canon 8 - Magical Girls Sidekick

    ¡°No, seriously, fifty bucks right now if you say Flea caught us. Or that Towers chick, Skip? We¡¯ll settle for that one, dude. Fifty bucks straight up. A hundred. Easy hundred, just--wait. No, no, I see what you¡¯re writing on that pad. Do not write that. Do not--aww c¡¯mon, man!¡±


    The would-be briber currently desperately pleading for the nearby police officer to stop writing was having a rather bad time. As was his partner. The two of them had started out their night, an hour earlier, attempting to break into a medical supplies depot in order to steal a full shipment that had only been delivered a couple hours earlier. Which would have been the sort of score that could set them both up for at least a month of easy living before they would¡¯ve had to pull off anything else.


    Unfortunately, that ¡®easy score¡¯ had ended up being anything but, thanks to¡­ outside intervention. Now, they were both soaking wet and hanging upside down. Their ankles were locked into shackles with metal suction cup-like things attached to the chain. Those suction cups were attached to the wall of the building and had a keypad attached. They also clearly weren¡¯t actually using suction to remain in place, because the men had strained as hard as they could for the fifteen minutes it had taken the cops to arrive, without any luck in pulling themselves free.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, boys?¡± the short, heavyset man with the gray walrus mustache drawled as he looked back and forth between the dangling duo. He was Lieutenant Harold Dabber, and he either couldn¡¯t, or wouldn¡¯t, keep the amusement out of his voice. With a few chastising tone, he added, ¡°You should know what happens when you sign up to serve as Queen Beryl¡¯s lackeys. You mess with the Senshi, you get the glowing tiara.¡±


    The dangling, soaked men looked at each other from their upside down positions, then at the man himself before blurting a pair of confused, ¡°What the fuck?!¡±


    Tutting them while muttering about how uncultured they were, Dabber reached up to carefully enter the six digit code that had been called in along with news about the men¡¯s location. At the last digit, he paused before looking toward a couple uniformed patrol officers. At his nod, they stepped over and held the man while Dabber input the last digit. Instantly, the shackles unlocked and the officers lowered the man to the ground to put their own cuffs on him. At the same time, the shackle itself vanished, disappearing back to its owner as they always did.


    He had just done the same for the second man, allowing him to be secured as well, when the flapping of wings made Dabber turn to look at the small black bird that was gliding in to land on the nearby dumpster. ¡°Hey there, Lucent. Afraid you¡¯re a little late to the party this time. This place belong to the Seraphs?


    ¡°It does,¡± came the response, ¡°and clearly we owe a good bit of thanks to a certain couple of young girls for the assist.¡± The Touched-Raven sounded thoughtful, head tilting as he looked toward the men who were being hauled to their feet and marched toward a waiting police cruiser. ¡°Tell me something, lieutenant. Were they alone again?¡± His voice was troubled.


    Clearing his throat, Dabber nodded. ¡°From what we hear, yeah. Believe me, we''ve done our best to discourage those two from running around by themselves. But they don''t exactly listen to reason, and that Swiftkick¡¯s transport tech is too good for any of us to even have a prayer of stopping them. Not to mention, if we push too hard, we¡¯ll just end up looking like¡­ well, like a bunch of armed cops chasing a couple hero kids. Hard to make that come off as anything good, no matter how well-intentioned we might be. Still, I just¡­¡± His head shook. ¡°If the Scions get hold of ¡®em, or¡­ you know the Ninety-Niners won¡¯t hold back if they get pissed off. I--Yeah, I''m glad they want to help. And God knows seeing crooks like those idiots over there get humiliated by those two playing magical girls is pretty damn funny. Seriously, it¡¯s pretty great. But if anything happens to them, it¡­ they need someone. You know, someone watching their backs and being the adult who can tell them when enough is enough and that they need to call in the professionals.¡± He gave a heavy sigh, good humor tempered by renewed worry now that the subject had come up. ¡°But that¡¯s the problem. We don¡¯t even know if those two have any adults who even know who they are and what they¡¯re doing. We don¡¯t know anything about what their lives are like outside this whole¡­ thing they¡¯ve got going on. They need someone out there who does know them, someone who can help.¡±


    ¡°My good lieutenant,¡± Lucent announced, puffing himself up a bit dramatically. ¡°We¡¯re not talking about ordinary Star-Touched teenagers here. We are, in fact, referring to a couple of magical girls.


    ¡°What they need¡­ is a talking animal sidekick.¡±


    *******


    ¡°Yes, but what exactly qualifies you for the position?¡±


    Swiftkick, dressed in her green body armor and helmet, with a white skirt, boots, and dragonfly-like wings, asked the question while sitting on the very edge of a comfortable (and perfectly sized for her) leather chair. Her partner, Cloudburst, sat next to her in another chair, wearing her own silver armor with blue boots, skirt, and a cloak rather than wings. The two of them were clearly doing their level best to appear serious and composed while staring at the intelligent raven perched in the middle of the wooden desk in front of them.


    It had taken about a week before Lucent managed to track down the girls in question at the end of one of their outings. He had introduced himself, and explained what he was there for. Which was what led to this moment. Rather than an office, they were atop the roof of an old camping supply store across the street from their latest adventure. Both of the chairs and the table had been produced instantly (and out of nowhere) by Swiftkick as soon as the conversation began.


    He couldn¡¯t read their expressions behind the helmets, of course. But, from their body language, involving crossed ankles and steepled fingers, he could tell that they were attempting to look as serious and mature as possible. How much of that was out of a desire to be taken seriously, and how much was for their own amusement, he wasn¡¯t absolutely certain yet. Although, the fact that they had both produced clipboards and were making a show of taking notes while giving studious ¡®hmm¡¯ sounds gave him a pretty strong indication that a large part of it was the latter.


    Deciding to run with the joke, Lucent tilted his head one way, then the other in an exaggerated motion. ¡°What qualifies me to be a talking animal sidekick?¡± He paused, looked down at his own bird body, then up again, repeating that motion a couple of times before finally answering, ¡°It may be a stretch, but if given the opportunity, I believe I can pull it off.¡±


    They both considered him for a moment before Swiftkick started to lean toward her partner as though to whisper something. Abruptly, she stopped and looked that way. ¡°You don''t have super-hearing, do you?¡±


    ¡°Not the last time I checked!¡± he cheerfully assured her. ¡°But if it would make you more comfortable, I could fly to the billboard over there until you¡¯re ready.¡±


    They both seemed to consider that before shaking their heads. ¡°Nah,¡± Cloudburst replied, ¡°you¡¯re good.¡± Then she leaned over and began whispering something to Swiftkick. The two held a brief, murmured conversation for several seconds before both of them sat back.


    ¡°One more question,¡± Cloudburst announced. ¡°Have you ever in the past used the position of talking animal sidekick in order to steal a girl¡¯s soul?¡±


    ¡°Or anyone¡¯s soul, really,¡± Swiftkick immediately added with a raised finger. ¡°You don¡¯t get a pass on soul-harvesting just because they were some old guy. That¡¯s still bad.¡±


    Tapping his beak against the table a couple of times for emphasis, Lucent firmly replied, ¡°I can quite safely say I have never even been tempted to do anything with any person''s soul.¡± There was a very brief pause then, before he amended, ¡°You are spelling that s-o-u-l, yes? Because I have bitten several feet in my time. But they certainly had it coming.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Suddenly that show makes a lot more sense,¡± Cloudburst managed to get out with a very serious-sounding voice that was only slightly hurt by her subsequent mostly-muffled snicker.


    ¡°I like you!¡± Swiftkick suddenly announced, popping to her feet while extending a hand. The clipboard (which he could see now simply had random lines scribbled on it) was tossed aside in the process. ¡°You¡¯re not grumpy and mean. I think you¡¯ve got the job. Right, Cloud?¡±


    With a nod of agreement, the other girl hopped up as well. Her own clipboard was discarded, revealing that she actually had been taking notes. ¡°I think so, Swift. Congratulations, Mr. Lucent. Welcome to the team.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but you do know what the job of a good magical animal sidekick is, yes?¡± Lucent reminded them. ¡°They serve as a guide and mentor. If I am to fill that role, you must be prepared to listen when I give advice. And particularly when I suggest that discretion is the better part of valor.¡± After a brief pause, he clarified, ¡°When I say run away, you must both do exactly that. No arguing, no claiming you know what you¡¯re doing. We retreat and regroup so we can discuss the best way to proceed. No girl or bird left behind. Understand? We do this together. And we plan things out properly, so no tail feathers get singed.¡±


    ¡°We can still have fun, right?¡± Swiftkick insisted. ¡°I mean, we know people get hurt doing this and all. We know it¡¯s serious. But¡­¡±


    ¡°But if people think we¡¯re being all silly and ridiculous, they don¡¯t take us seriously,¡± Cloudburst put in. ¡°By the time they realize we¡¯re not a total joke, it¡¯s too late. It¡¯s kind of¡­ how we do this good.¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°How we do this well,¡± Lucent corrected before giving a sharp headshake. He began pacing back and forth across the table. ¡°And you¡¯re wrong about¡­ part of that, girls. You do well because you are both very talented, very intelligent people. You want to help and you put your powers toward doing just that, quite effectively. You didn¡¯t make those weapons and armor by accident, Swift. And you, Cloud, are one of the strongest hydrokinetics I¡¯ve seen. To say nothing of the gravity side of your powers. You are two incredibly capable girls.¡±


    He paused then, turning his gaze from one to the other before pointedly going on. ¡°Unfortunately, people are going to realize that. Those bad guys are going to stop underestimating you, no matter how silly you act. They¡¯ll learn to take you seriously and adapt to the¡­ joke. That is what you must be prepared for. You asked if you can still have fun. Yes, absolutely. I am here as a mentor to help you keep having fun. You learn, you train, you get better at doing all of this. And then you can embarrass the bad guys even more. Because you won¡¯t only have some talent, power, and luck seeing you through. You¡¯ll have skill and knowledge too. And that combination will take you very far indeed.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Cloud agreed. ¡°We¡¯ll practice with you.¡± She sounded relieved about the whole situation.


    Swift nodded. ¡°Yeah, definitely.¡± Leaning closer then, she carefully brought her index fingers up, spacing them out in front of her eyes as though estimating his size. ¡°Could you come back to the lab with us, Mr. Lucent?


    ¡°I¡¯ve got some ideas.¡±


    *******


    Four Weeks Later


    With a loud squeal of protesting tires and brakes, the semi-truck came to a screaming halt bare inches away from the large tree that had grown out of the middle of what had been an open highway mere minutes earlier. The highway itself, on the outskirts of Detroit, was seldom used once the much more direct freeway was put in. Between that and the early morning hour, the truck¡¯s driver hadn¡¯t expected to see many other drivers on the road. And he certainly had never expected to find a twelve-foot wide and fifty-foot tall tree blocking his path. Coming over the hill, he''d barely had time to notice it and hit the brakes on the way down.


    Of course, it wasn''t hard to realize what was going on as soon as he had a second to think about it. The man was already reaching for his CB radio to call it in, when an acorn seed suddenly flew in the narrow gap in his slightly lowered window. His eyes tracked the acorn as it passed in front of his eyes before landing on the passenger seat. An instant later, a man emerged from the acorn, popping into existence. He wore brown and green body armor, and a helmet that looked like it was made of bark (but was actually much tougher). There was a narrow black visor over where his eyes were.


    Landscape, member of the Sherwood gang, of course. His hand snapped down to catch the driver¡¯s wrist while shaking his head. ¡°That¡¯s a bad idea, comrade. Why don¡¯t you get out of the truck now, before anyone gets hurt? We''ll just grab these monuments to mankind''s utter destruction of the planet we¡¯re all supposed to live on and be out of your hair in a jiffy.¡±


    The words themselves were calm, but his tone certainly was not. So, rather than push the issue, the driver slowly stepped out of his vehicle. He found several more people from Sherwood waiting. Three were simply ordinary, Prev members of the fanatical gang. The other two were more Touched. There was a girl in dark green and black camo-like pants and boots, with black chainmail-like armor and a brown duster. Her companion, meanwhile, was a man in a ghillie suit, making him look like a living bush. Both wore the same bark-like helmet with black visor as Landscape. It was a Sherwood staple; even the non-Touched wore those masks. They provided protection from everything up to small arms fire, even through the visor.


    The girl was Clime, who created forcefield bubbles and filled them with extreme weather. The man, meanwhile, was Greenery. His power allowed him to make any plant or combination of plants he was familiar with and had spent time around appear anywhere around himself. He was clearly the one responsible for the tree suddenly being in the middle of the highway. And he had just as suddenly sent it back where it had come from.


    ¡°Open the back,¡± Clime demanded impatiently. "You think you can just keep bringing this garbage into our city? Those are video cards. High end video cards. Do you know what people use those for? Cryptomining. And do you know what those assholes do to cryptomine? They use energy. Lots and lots of energy. Why don¡¯t you just grab a drill and tear into the planet yourself, huh? I mean, it¡¯s not like we all have to live on this fucking planet, right?¡±


    ¡°Just open the back.¡± The annoyed grunt came from Greenery, who rarely spoke but always seemed right on the verge of terrible violence whenever he did.


    Not wanting to be a target for that violence, the driver had just turned to follow his instructions when he stopped short. Perched on top of his truck were three ravens. Or rather, three raven statues. As soon as he saw them, the man stopped short.


    ¡°What¡¯re yo--¡± Landscape started to demand before his own eyes took in what the other man had seen. ¡°Aww shi--¡± And then it was too late, as the three statues abruptly sent out a blinding flash of supernatural light, which made the gathered group stagger backward with a collection of the yelps and curses.


    In the midst of that, while they were all still recoiling and blinded, a pair of voices called out from the direction of the truck. ¡°Shield of the city, Shining Gift!¡±


    That was followed by one of the voices shouting, ¡°Silver Force! Patroller Cloudburst!¡±


    Then the other voice called, ¡°Emerald Force! Guardian Swiftkick!¡±


    By that point, the Fell-Touched and their Prev thugs could see once more, and found themselves staring at those two standing atop the truck, where Lucent had left his raven statues. They were standing tall (well, as tall as two young girls could stand), fists on their hips as they glared down at the group.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite enough of that!¡± Cloudburst announced. ¡°Back away from the truck and surrender, this is your only warning!¡±


    ¡°Or don¡¯t,¡± Swiftkick added, ¡°and give us a reason to kick your butts. Cuz we¡¯re pretty good at kicking, and those are some big butts to practice with.¡±


    Seeing the two up there, the Sherwood Fell-Touched trio exchanged looks before Landscape shoved one of the Prev men. ¡°Fucking shoot the bitches and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°The fuck, dude?¡± the man retorted, ¡°I ain¡¯t shooting a couple little kids. What do you think I am?¡±


    Clearly rolling her eyes behind her mask, Clime snapped, ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯ll deal with this.¡± Before the other two could object, she spun back and focused her power that way. Instantly, a forcefield appeared around the girls. They were small enough that it could grab both of them at once. ¡°You think you¡¯re tough, huh? Let¡¯s see how you deal with a little wind!¡± With that, she put a small tornado in the bubble. It wasn''t enough to rip them apart. She wasn''t about to go killing a couple kids like some kind of fucking monster. But it would send them bouncing off the walls and bruise the little brats a bit. And it would definitely teach them a lesson about butting their noses in where they didn¡¯t belong.


    However, she''d barely started the wind before a voice from within the bubble shouted, ¡°Octave Slam!¡± With that, a sudden, deafeningly loud whistle filled the air. It felt like it was piercing right through her brain. Clime recoiled once more, crying out as her hands snapped up to bounce off her helmet in an attempt to cover her ears. The whistle stopped just as quickly, but the damage was done. She¡¯d lost focus on the forcefield, which meant it was weak enough for the two girls to punch their way out of it. Under two blows, the bubble shattered, revealing Swiftkick holding a small baseball sized metal orb with speaker grills on it.


    Realizing what happened immediately, the Sherwood girl tried to reform the bubble. Unfortunately for her, Cloudburst was faster. With a shouted, ¡°Aegis Typhoon!¡± she thrust her hand forward, summoning a wave of water that shot out from underneath the truck, colliding with not only Clime, but all the others. They were knocked off their feet by the wave and sent them crashing to the ground.


    All of them, that was, aside from the truck driver. Just before the wave crashed into the group, a backpack-shaped object with two wings sticking out either side came flying in from behind them. It collided with the driver¡¯s back, startling him into a scream as the thing latched onto him, then picked the man off the ground and flew him into the air while the gang members were knocked off their feet. A second later, the wingpack landed safely on the far side of the truck before disengaging from him.


    By the time the Sherwood people shoved themselves back to their feet, Cloudburst and Swiftkick had dropped down from the truck, landing lightly on the road thanks to a slight gravity adjustment.


    ¡°We gave you a chance,¡± Cloud reminded them.


    ¡°You¡¯re the ones who chose the hard way,¡± Swift added.


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s it!¡± The outburst came from Landscape, who produced a stun baton in one hand and an assortment of acorns in the other. ¡°You little shits might have a few fun little tricks, but I¡¯ve had enough. The two of you--¡±


    ¡°And who,¡± a new voice interrupted, ¡°said there were only two of them?¡±


    Every eye turned that way, to the front of the truck. Perched there, on the driver¡¯s mirror, was Lucent himself. ¡°Did you forget about me?¡± the Touched-Raven demanded. ¡°And after I left my little friends in plain view.¡± His gaze snapped briefly toward the trio of statues still on top of the truck, then back again. ¡°I¡¯m hurt. Wait, no.¡± Head tilting as though he was considering, the bird mused, ¡°not hurt¡­ excited. Yes, very excited. Your little excursion today was most fortuitous. Tis my first opportunity to try it.¡±


    ¡°Try what?¡± one of the Prev thugs reflexively blurted, earning a glare from everyone else.


    ¡°I am so glad you asked,¡± came the response, followed immediately by a bellowed, ¡°Shield of the city, feathered gift!¡± With that, Lucent launched himself into the sky. A pair of very small pouches on his legs expanded in an instant, growing into red-gold armor that entirely encased his body. It made him look as though he was a robot bird rather than a real one, including a little helmet with an open spot for his beak to stick through, and what looked like tiny goggles over his eyes.


    ¡°Ruby Force! Ace Birdbrain!¡±


    Now fully armored, the raven flew to where the extra flight pack was hovering, landing on top of it just as a pair of concussive cannons emerged from the front. ¡°Now then,¡± Lucent--or Birdbrain, announced.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how much fun we can truly have, shall we?¡±


    *******


    ¡°We did it! We won!¡± Now out of costume entirely, Wren bounced up and down, her unkempt blonde hair flying wildly while she held tightly to an equally unarmored Izzy. The two of them were prancing in circles around the small, secluded park a quarter mile away from where they¡¯d just had their confrontation with the Sherwood gang members.


    Unable to keep a smile off her face, Izzy nodded. ¡°Too bad Landscape and Clime got away.¡±


    Lucent, sitting on a small tree branch, gave a soft caw of agreement before speaking. ¡°You shall find, as you perform these duties, that such a thing happens far more often than not. True villains have a tendency to slither away from the hand of justice.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Wren insisted, ¡°we¡¯ll nail ¡®em next time. And hey, the new armor works, right?!¡±


    ¡°Tis true,¡± Lucent agreed. ¡°Your designs were flawless. I have often struggled to wear anything without being weighed down, but the armor fit as a second set of feathers. I hardly noticed its presence.¡±


    ¡°And you were right,¡± Izzy pointed out. ¡°About having a sonic bomb to distract Clime so we could break out of her forcefield. That¡­ it was a good plan.¡± She offered him a small smile. ¡°We¡¯re lucky you came to help.¡±


    ¡°As I am truly fortunate to have found such willing and capable heroes to attach myself to, I assure you,¡± Lucent returned. ¡°And yet, you have now faced, and won, against Fell-Touched, who will hold a grudge against you. They will want revenge. And those who are not part of their gang will begin to see you as a true threat. You both know what that means.¡±


    Exchanging a couple looks, the girls turned their gazes back to Lucent. All three blurted the answer together.


    ¡°More training!¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-05

    So now we were, sort of and tentatively, on the same page. Sort of. Okay, we were at least in the same book, which was something. Sure, Pack and Alloy didn¡¯t know the whole story, but we¡¯d made it clear that we were holding some stuff back. We didn¡¯t lie to them about that. As for what would come later or how much they¡¯d end up knowing before all this was done¡­ I¡¯d take that as it came. For now, at least they knew enough for us to all work together. Not only for finding a way to get into that secret base under the mall, but for checking out this Amanda chick too.


    And yet, as much as I told myself that having more help was a good thing, a not-insubstantial part of me kept screaming that involving other people was a horrible idea. Not because I didn¡¯t trust them, exactly, but because I didn¡¯t trust what might happen. Ignoring the whole situation with my own family for the moment (as if I ever really could), we were trying to get answers that could potentially hurt Pencil. Yes, I wanted that to happen (oh boy did I ever want it to happen), but if he found out what we were doing, things could get really bad. If that fucking psycho decided he needed to focus on stopping us and really put his mind to it, I had no idea what could happen.


    Yes, I knew I needed help with this. I knew I couldn¡¯t do it by myself, and that having others with me wasn¡¯t a bad thing. I knew it was their choice to be involved. But knowing that and being able to accept it and push away all emotions were two entirely different things. If anything happened to these guys because I brought them along, if Pencil or any of the other Scions got hold of them, I wouldn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t know what I¡¯d do. The very thought of it was enough to make me freeze up. Oh, and practically dry heave from the way my stomach flipped itself over.


    But I had to push all that aside, all those doubts and worries, everything that was turning my stomach in knots. I had to shove it away and focus, because Izzy, Amber, Alloy, and Pack were involved. They were going to help, so what I had to do was focus on making sure we all got through this without giving me anything to feel guilty over. That meant we all had to keep our eyes open and be ready for any problem. If the Scions happened to be keeping an eye on Amanda for whatever reason and saw us talk to her, things could get nasty pretty fast.


    Which, of course, meant that step one of the plan had to be finding a way to sneak into the woman¡¯s home without being seen by anyone. If we were going to avoid attracting the very wrong kind of attention, we had to talk to her without anyone else having any idea we were there. Either any of the Scions themselves, or any of her neighbors who might feel like reporting to him. Yes, we had no real evidence that they did that sort of thing, and no real reason to think he was spying on her to begin with, but as far as Pencil went, we weren¡¯t taking anything for granted. A lot of people died when they did that. So, we were going with the sneaking in thing.


    Or rather, Alloy, Pack, and I were going to be sneaking in. Raindrop and That-A-Way would wait in a safe place, ready to jump in to help if everything went utterly sideways. Our hope (and it was really the best we had) was that if the Scions did show up after all, they wouldn¡¯t expect those two to be back-up. And if it came right down to it, Way would simply use her teleport power to get us all out of there. Hopefully we wouldn¡¯t have to go to that, but it was best to have the option. Better than getting into that situation and ending up trapped, anyway.


    Of course, before we could sneak into Amanda Sanvers¡¯ place, we needed to find out exactly where that place was. Deicide hadn¡¯t actually given us her address. All she had was a list of potential locations and people we could talk to who might know where Amanda was living. So, before we could stealthily talk to the girl herself, we had to stealthily talk to a bunch of others. Yeah, this whole thing could get unbelievably complicated and dangerous really fast. Even more so than it already was. We were going to try to get the information for Deicide without sticking our heads into a Scion hornets nest, but I had a lot of twisted feelings in my stomach about how it would actually play out when things really got going. That was okay, though, since my twisted, nervous feelings about this specific situation would probably fit in pretty well with my twisted, nervous feelings about my entire life in general.


    All of which was what had brought us to the back of Pack¡¯s van, staying out of sight while the girl herself drove up front. It was one of those vans with a divider between the front and back, so she could drive with her mask off and we wouldn¡¯t see her face. We could, however, peek out through heavily tinted windows in the back to watch the houses passing by as the other girl drove toward the first house on the list. It was apparently a home in the same neighborhood where Amanda and her brother had lived when their family had been attacked by Pencil toward the very start of his career, long before he¡¯d built the Scions as a group. No one even knew if Cup was around back then. Apparently he broke into this normal family¡¯s house and made the mother and father kill each other to save Amanda and her brother. It was all on video.


    So yeah, it was pretty doubtful that the girl would be living anywhere near the house where all that had happened. But according to the information we¡¯d gotten from Deicide, a woman who had been their babysitter when they were younger lived at this place, and had been in contact with Amanda before for sentimental reasons. We were hoping she still had an address. And, well, that she¡¯d give that address to us, of course. That was another reason we were starting with this address. The woman here knew Amanda and her brother when they were little, so it was doubtful she was some kind of secret contact and spy for Pencil or the Scions.


    ¡°At the risk of sounding like an incredibly impatient ten-year-old on a road trip,¡± Way spoke up from where she was sitting in the corner while texting intently on her phone, ¡°are we there yet?¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that just be a ten-year-old in general?¡± I pointed out while glancing that way. ¡°I mean, come on, impatient ten-year-old? You might as well say, ¡®wet rain¡¯ or ¡®buff football player.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Or boring football game,¡± Alloy put in, before holding up both hands defensively when everyone looked at her. ¡°What? It¡¯s true and you know it.¡± Belatedly, she added in a mumble under her breath, ¡°Soccer¡¯s better anyway. Real football. Talk about running around all the time, not stopping every four freaking seconds to grope each other and make faces.¡±


    Exchanging a glance with Way and Raindrop, I shrugged at them exaggeratedly. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me, I didn¡¯t know mentioning football was gonna make her go off. I¡¯ll make a note of it though.¡± That said, I looked back out the window as the van turned. ¡°But yeah, I think we¡¯re pretty close.¡±


    Sure enough, we¡¯d only gone another block before Pack slid open the little window that divided the front from the back. She¡¯d stuck a piece of cardboard or something in the way to block our view of the space where she was sitting, but there was enough of a crack on the right-hand side to see the passenger seat where the cage full of lizards was sitting, and we could hear as the girl called, ¡°Okay, this is the street! If your friendly neighborhood gang boss isn¡¯t full of shit, it should be right up here on the left. Figured out what you¡¯re doing yet? Because something tells me it¡¯d probably be a bad idea if my friends and me went up and knocked on this lady¡¯s door.¡±


    Yeah, she probably had a point. If we wanted to convince this lady to tell us what she knew about Amanda, sending a known member of La Casa up there wasn¡¯t the right way to go about it. Granted, they weren¡¯t nearly as bad as the Scions. Not even remotely. But Fell-Touched were Fell-Touched as far as a lot of the general public were concerned. They were the bad guys. I knew that was the way I had thought for most of my life. Obviously, things were a bit more complicated than that. This lady hadn¡¯t had the same kind of experiences though. We needed to put her mind at ease, not make her too paranoid to give us the info we needed.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go in with Alloy,¡± I announced. ¡°It looked like there was an alley just behind the house. Pull through there, let us out, and we¡¯ll go in the back where the big cedar fence is. Better if it¡¯s the two of us. If you guys,¡± I nodded toward That-A-Way and Raindrop, ¡°come in with us and she does happen to rat us out to Pencil, he¡¯ll know you¡¯re involved.¡± With a shrug, I added, ¡°I know, slim chances, but still. No reason to risk anything. Or, in this case, everything.¡±


    The two Minority Touched didn¡¯t exactly look incredibly happy with that, for obvious reasons. But they also couldn¡¯t really argue against it. After giving each other a brief glance, they nodded. Way pointed at me. ¡°Okay, but just be, you know, subtle? I mean, as subtle as you can be when dressed like that, with your reputation, going to talk to some lady about a girl she used to babysit who might have secret information about the leader of the Scio¨Clook, just be careful.¡±


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    Snorting despite myself, I nodded while giving her a thumbs up. ¡°We¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± Then my gaze turned toward my new partner. ¡°You ready to go talk to a lady about a girl?¡± Pausing as those words worked their way through my own mind, I grimaced. ¡°Yeah, that was supposed to sound all chill and reassuring, but I think I drifted all the way over into totally vague.¡±


    Alloy, in turn, gave a slight snicker before choking on it. She was obviously (and understandably) nervous about this whole thing, and I had the feeling she was afraid that if she laughed at anything surrounding it, the universe would retaliate by making everything go to hell. I was very well-accustomed with that fear, because I kept pushing it down myself.


    By that point, Pack had found the alley. She told us to text when we needed a pick-up and that they would be close, but not too close. On her word as the van came to a stop, That-A-Way slid the side door open, letting Alloy and me hop out together. The second we were out, the van pulled away smoothly and continued down what turned out to be a slightly narrower alley than I¡¯d expected. It was just wide enough for the van on one side and the two of us beside it with a few inches of clearance before we would run into the wooden fence that surrounded the backyard of the house in question.


    Actually, all the houses here had tall fences surrounding the yards. It was one of the reasons I¡¯d felt safe being let out here. People in this neighborhood valued their privacy. Also, I could hear at least three different lawnmowers from distant houses, plus a chainsaw somewhere.


    It always felt strange to me to see houses that were so close together. Yes, I absolutely knew that was normal, the real way ninety-nine percent of people lived. Well, that and apartments of course. Which meant they were stacked even closer together. I was spoiled and given a completely abnormal childhood, growing up the way I had. Still, sometimes (like right now, standing here) I couldn¡¯t help wondering what it would be like to live in a place like this. What if my parents were just¡­ middle to upper-middle class? What if we had a house like this, with a regular-sized backyard, neighbors on either side so close we could throw a ball into their property, a garage with two cars, and Dad did his own yardwork? What would that be like?


    ¡°Uh, Paintball?¡± Alloy spoke up, breaking me out of being lost in my own thoughts. ¡°You okay? Are we going in there, or what?¡± She sounded equal parts confused and nervous, glancing around quickly. The marbles surrounding her head were also bouncing anxiously, looking like they were trying to see over fences to check for anyone who might¡¯ve been spying on us.


    Quickly, I shook off all those feelings and gave a quick nod. ¡°Yeah, sorry. I was just¨Cnever mind.¡± It wasn¡¯t like I could explain what I¡¯d been thinking or why. So I just gestured to the fence. ¡°Let¡¯s get in there, and try not to scare the hell out of an innocent lady in the process.¡±


    The gate was secured with a padlock, and we didn¡¯t want to break anything. So Alloy just made one of her marbles form a small platform to slide under our feet and fly us up and over. On the way, I glanced around. There were people working in their yards, but no one was looking directly at us. Quickly, we hopped down into the backyard.


    The woman we were heading in to see was named Kayla Dugan. According to what we¡¯d been able to find out, she wasn¡¯t married or anything, and lived alone here in the house she¡¯d inherited from her deceased parents. Hopefully she wouldn¡¯t have any guests today, or this could be even more awkward than it was already going to be.


    After taking a second to make sure no one was crying out or drawing attention, Alloy and I jogged across the incredibly tiny backyard (seriously, you could barely play catch back here, let alone an actual ballgame), hopping over a small flower garden to reach the wooden patio. There, I gestured for the other girl to wait and stand back in plain sight before reaching out to knock on the sliding glass door. I could see a kitchen (also tiny) through the glass and hear a television from somewhere else in the house. I tried to knock loud enough to be heard, but without being intimidating or sounding like I was trying to break the door down. It was a pretty fine line to walk.


    It must¡¯ve been loud enough, considering a woman who matched the picture we¡¯d seen poked her head around the side of the doorway. She was in her late twenties and had dark hair with just a hint of a red streak through it. Now, she was peering into the kitchen with a look of confusion. That expression turned to one of shock when she saw me standing there, and she jerked back reflexively. Then she poked her head back, this time with a phone in her hand as she stared, clearly ready to call 911.


    Trying to look nonthreatening, I waved and called out, hoping to be heard through the door. ¡°Hi! Sorry to bother you, can we talk for a minute? Everything¡¯s okay, I promise!¡±


    There was a moment of understandable hesitation as the woman clearly internally debated. She was holding her phone tightly. Finally, she called out, ¡°Prove you¡¯re really him!¡±


    Yeah, that was fair. Holding my hand up so she could see, I put my palm against the door and created an instant image there. There was a lawn of green paint, a black mailbox with a red flag thing, a house made of yellow and white, with as many details on the siding and door as I could manage, a black roof with a red chimney (including tiny bits of white lines to outline the bricks), and a giant green dragon with red eyes perched on top of that roof. With a thought, I made the red and orange fire emerge from the dragon¡¯s mouth, before making that disappear, then the dragon itself disappeared, replaced by a man standing where it had been, wearing a green suit. Then I made the man jump down from the roof in a very crude stop-motion thing where I kept making his image disappear, reappear an inch or so away, then repeated that until he was down on the white sidewalk in front of the house. Three more stop-motion bits made the man wave, before he turned to the door of the house and disappeared.


    Finally, I made the whole image vanish. And that was clearly good enough to convince Kayla, because she quickly moved across the kitchen, setting the phone down. She was wearing an aerobics outfit, and between that and the fact that there was visible muscle to her stature, I was reminded that her day job apparently involved being a fitness instructor. Also, she had a towel around her neck. It looked like we had interrupted morning exercise.


    There was a momentary hesitation as she started to reach for the door, before she seemed to give herself a short nod of encouragement. Then she flipped the lock and pulled the sliding door open, stepping back. ¡°Uhh, you¨Cyou¡¯re Paintball. You¨Cuhm, what?¡± Seeing Alloy, her eyes widened even more. ¡°Oh my God.¡±


    ¡°Oh sure,¡± I quipped, ¡°I just get ¡®oh, you¡¯re Paintball¡¯ and my new buddy here gets ¡®oh my God?¡¯¡± Painting a winking face on the front of my helmet, I gestured. ¡°This is Alloy. Say hi, Alloy.¡±


    ¡°Hi,¡± came the response before the other girl stepped up beside me to add, ¡°We¡¯re really sorry to bother you, ma¡¯am.¡±


    Kayla shook her head, seemingly reflexively. ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. I mean, I think it¡¯s okay. I mean, is it okay? What¡¯s going on? Why¨Cwhat¨Chuh?¡± Belatedly, she stepped back. ¡°Come in, come in. Wait, you¡¯re not like, being chased by that big demon guy again, are you?¡±


    ¡°Trust me, he¡¯s not polite enough to wait to see if you let us in,¡± I assured her before stepping through the door. ¡°I promise, no one is after us. I mean, obviously there¡¯s some bad guys out there that aren¡¯t too happy, but they¡¯re not here or anywhere close, as far as I know. I¡¯m just gonna shut up about that and move on now.¡±


    ¡°This is going super-well,¡± Alloy noted, giving me a double-thumbs up before focusing on the woman. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Miss Dugan. What he¡¯s trying to say is that we¡¯re not here about anything bad happening right now. It¡¯s more about someone you used to know.¡±


    ¡°Someone I used to know?¡± It took Kayla a moment before her eyes widened. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t mean¨C¡±


    Sending silent thanks that way for the assist, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, sorry. It¡¯s about Amanda Sanvers. And technically her brother, though we heard he¡¯s working in Alaska. So mostly it¡¯s about Amanda.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re here about¨C¡± Kayla abruptly lowered her voice to a whisper, clearly instinctively avoiding saying the name loudly, ¡°¨CPencil. You¡¯re here about that sick fuck, aren¡¯t you?¡± As soon as she realized that, the woman shook her head. ¡°You need to leave that alone. You both need to go stop a car thief or a murderer or something. Stay away from that monster.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I tried to reassure her, ¡°We¡¯re not here to go after him ourselves. We¡¯re just collecting information for people who are a lot better qualified.¡± Sure, I was leaving out that we were collecting it for another villain, but we didn¡¯t really need to get into those details.


    So, I simply tried to carefully explain what we¡¯re doing without mentioning that much. I told her that we needed to find Amanda so she could give us information that might help other people deal with him.


    When I was done, Kayla exhaled, slumping back against the counter. ¡°That¨Cwhat happened back then, it messed Amanda up. Both her and her brother. Neither of them were the same after that. It was just¨Cthey never recovered.¡±


    ¡°Pencil has that effect on people,¡± I muttered before looking to her. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re gonna send people who can stop him, Miss Dugan. I promise. We just need to find Amanda. We heard she¡¯s been in contact with you a few times.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ know exactly where she is,¡± the woman tentatively replied. ¡°But umm¡­ but maybe I can give you some ideas to check up on that could help. Just¡­ promise you won¡¯t let that son of a bitch anywhere near her again.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± I confirmed as firmly as possible. ¡°You have our word.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to do absolutely everything we can to make sure Amanda never even sees Pencil again.¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-06

    ¡°A petting zoo, seriously? Couldn¡¯t this chick live somewhere that stinks less, like an outhouse?¡±


    The complaint came from Pack just over three hours later, after we had followed all the leads that we could. Kayla Dugan¡¯s list had had a few that crossed over with the list we had gotten from Deicide, so we checked on those first. But in the end, it had taken every single hint we got from the original list as well as what Kayla and a few other people had been able to give us.


    Not everyone was willing to talk to us, of course. Some slammed the door in our faces, or just claimed they didn¡¯t know anything. Others we weren¡¯t able to track down at all. But a few talked, and a few of those few had actual information. A lot of it was the same as others, but helpful nonetheless. For those few hours, we trekked back and forth across the city, tracking down every lead we could. It involved a lot of waiting, a lot of duplicated names, and a lot of talking.


    But, in the end, we had what was supposed to be the address that Amanda Sanvers was currently living at. And yes, it was at a petting zoo. Or, to be precise, an apartment above a petting zoo. According to the information we¡¯d managed to collect, she had been living there for about seven months or so. Honestly, as we sat in the van with the windows open, I couldn¡¯t imagine how she¡¯d lasted more than a week. The smell of the goats, sheep, ponies, pigs, rabbits, and more was just awful. They even had cows and a couple regular sized horses. Seriously, this girl must either have no sense of smell at all, or the apartment was really good at filtering out the scent.


    Just as before, the rest of us were in the back of the van while Pack sat in the front, talking to us through the little window thing. When she made that comment, I replied, ¡°I just hope she doesn¡¯t think seeing all the cute little animals would make Pencil change his mind about doing terrible things. He really doesn¡¯t strike me as the type to stop and coo over the cute little lamb.¡±


    With a snort from her seat next to That-A-Way, Raindrop darkly pointed out, ¡°Maybe she thinks he¡¯ll be so distracted hurting and killing all the adorable animals, it¡¯ll give her time to escape.¡±


    ¡°Ew,¡± Way managed, shaking her head. ¡°Let¡¯s not think about that right now, okay? Whatever her reasoning is, you guys just need to go in there and talk to this girl. Try to get her to open up, convince her to tell you what she knows. Rain and I will be listening the whole time, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I agreed, waving my Touched-business phone in one hand. ¡°I¡¯ll have this thing on and connected to your phone. You guys will be able to hear everything we do. You know, just in case something goes wrong. Which is clearly a ridiculously unlikely scenario.¡±


    My words were greeted by a unified doubtful, ¡®Uhhhh huh¡¯ from literally everyone in the van. Even Alloy. If the lizards in their cage in the front seat had been capable of it, I was pretty sure they would have added to the chorus. I¡¯m sure they were in spirit, anyway.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Pack put in, ¡°The three of us go in together. These two stay outside for backup. We get every bit of info this chick¡¯s got, tell her she should probably lay low somewhere else until Pencil¡¯s dealt with just in case he hears about us looking for her, and get out of there. Then we send that info to Deicide and let her handle it. And somewhere in there we find a way to cope with whatever extra problems pop up.¡± Her gaze turned to me, staring intently through the mask she had put back on. ¡°You know, as ¡®unlikely¡¯ as those problems are.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± I confirmed with a slightly exaggerated thumbs up before looking over at my new partner. ¡°Ready to go see what this girl knows?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d feel a lot more comfortable if she was connected to one of the other bad guys in town instead of this one,¡± she informed me, squirming a bit with clear unease. Then she took a visible breath to steady herself, focusing on me. ¡°But yeah. Yeah, I¡¯m ready, I guess.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready, I guess,¡± I echoed with a firm nod. ¡°Sounds like as good of a rallying cry as we¡¯re gonna get for this. So let¡¯s head over there.¡± Looking over to Way and Raindrop, I added, ¡°Just be ready to jump in the second it sounds like something¡¯s wrong, okay?¡± I may not have been accustomed to having actual backup from people who knew what was going on, but I was definitely going to take advantage when it was right here.


    They agreed, and I took a moment to call Way¡¯s phone. We made sure there was a good connection and that those two could hear everything. Then it was time to stop stalling and go talk to this girl. No matter how crappy I felt at the thought of making her relive what that fucker had done to her family. God, seriously, how shitty was it going to be for us to show up at this girl¡¯s doorstep asking her to risk her whole life just to tell us everything she knew about the psychopath who had tormented and tortured her family, and made her parents kill each other? I just¡­ yeah. No wonder none of us were exactly eager to get down to business.


    But, in the end, this was what we had agreed to do. And it was clearly the right thing. Pencil had to be stopped before he destroyed any more lives. At least this way we weren¡¯t actually facing the man himself. So, Alloy and I slid out the back together before looking around. The petting zoo wasn¡¯t actually in town. Instead, it was off a section of road about ten miles west, and fairly isolated. Probably because nobody wanted to be their neighbors.


    The van was parked in a small area behind a few trees just a couple hundred yards from the fence that surrounded the place in question. And yes, the smell was bad from here. I was seriously considering asking Wren to add a scent filter into the helmet she had made.


    Actually, come to think of it, having some kind of gas filter built into this thing was probably a good idea, smell or no smell. But Wren had a lot to deal with already, and after the lengths she¡¯d already pushed herself to just so she could get that VR machine ready for helping Paige, I was going to back off a bit and let her work on other things for the time being. Still, it was something to keep in mind.


    Pack joined us, and I immediately noticed that she was wearing a small green and black backpack just like one you¡¯d take to school, which was in no way big enough to carry her lizards, or the cage that had been holding them back on the front seat of the van.


    ¡°Oh, you like it?¡± she asked, making a show of modeling for us by spinning in a circle. ¡°Newest gift from the boss. The bag and that cage in there are linked. I reach in here, and I can grab one of my buddies from there. Makes it easier to run around and still have everybody I need.¡±


    After exchanging a brief glance with Alloy, I replied, ¡°Well, good to know he¡¯s got spiffy rewards for you.¡±


    ¡°Employment benefits,¡± she slyly informed us. ¡°Which, both of you could totally get if¨C¡±


    She was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the back of the van from the inside. Then the door popped open and Way called through the crack, ¡°Would you please stop trying to recruit heroes for your villain gang and get on with it!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, babe!¡± Pack called that way, ¡°No need to be jealous, your offer is still the best one! I made sure to really talk you up when Blackjack went over all the different welcoming packets we could hand out.¡±


    Snorting despite myself at that and Way¡¯s sputtering reaction, I started to move. ¡°Come on, both of you should probably focus a bit. This is supposed to be important.¡±


    Through the bluetooth thing in my ear, I heard Way mutter a retort of, ¡°Oh I¡¯m focused, I¡¯m totally focused. Just make her focus.¡± There was a brief pause before she added a little more quietly, ¡°And be careful. Make sure you¡¯re all careful.¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± I murmured, before turning to look at the other two. ¡°Okay guys, I know this mission really stinks, but let¡¯s try to get through it. Just remember, the worst isn¡¯t the pigs and horses, it¡¯s the goats and cows. You might say we¡¯re walking into some real dairy air.¡±


    I was met with two staring figures, Pack demanding, ¡°Have you got all that out of your system now?¡±


    Painting a broad smiley face across my helmet, I retorted, ¡°Probably not, but I¡¯ll be good for now.¡± Yeah, so when I got nervous I made jokes. It helped me focus. And right now, I was definitely very nervous. This whole situation was making me incredibly antsy. But I tried to shove all those feelings down, focusing on moving through the wooded area up toward the fence around the petting zoo. Neither the smell, nor my nerves, improved along the way.


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    Before long, we reached the fence and could see through it. Where we had come up (quite intentionally) was right near the actual main building, visible through cracks between the tall wooden boards. To the right a bit was a chicken coop, which was doing nothing to help the scent we were all dealing with. And further beyond that was the pen for the goats, and that was clearly giving the chicken coop a run for its money. Yeah, this whole place was farm animal central, and the pens were close enough to the main three-story house that my earlier assessment had to be right. Either the people who lived there really did have no sense of smell, or the building was set up with very good filters. No way could they sleep at night like this.


    There were also a few people scattered around, a couple obvious employees helping take care of the animals, and what looked like two or three different families of tourists wandering around to see and pet anything they could. Not to mention getting pictures with them.


    ¡°Let¡¯s try to get inside the house without being seen,¡± I murmured quietly. ¡°If we¡¯re really doing our best to make sure Pencil doesn¡¯t find out about this, waltzing right in past a bunch of tourists with cameras seems like it might be a little bit counterproductive to that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Pack snorted, ¡°maybe just a little. So how exactly do you want to get in there if we¡¯re not attracting attention?¡± There was a brief pause then before she amended, ¡°You know, that sounded like I was being dismissive of the idea, and I¡¯m definitely not. Not attracting attention that ends up getting all the way to the Scions is a very good thing in general. But still, how?¡±


    Before I could respond, Alloy pointed a bit to our left. ¡°Over there,¡± she whispered. ¡°There¡¯s a little gate hidden between some bushes. I think it leads down to a well or something near the stream. It¡¯s next to the toolshed on the inside. The gate¡¯s locked, but we can hop over.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I remarked, ¡°good eyes. How¡¯d you see all th¨Cwait, did you get actual information from your little marble buddies? Can they scout for you now? See, this is why this whole thing isn¡¯t fair. You get marble buddies and she gets lizard buddies. Where¡¯re my paint buddies?¡±


    Clearly blushing a bit beneath the Sentai-like helmet she wore, Alloy shook her head. ¡°No, I uhhh, I sort of came here with my mom a few months ago. She was on this kick about spending time together, and that¡¯s cool and all, but I was trying to figure out if this girl liked me or not so I brought her with us. Then Mom was being all weird, so we snuck away to find a place to hide so we could talk. We found that gate and climbed over it. I sorta ripped my pants a little bit.¡± Waving off that memory, the girl added, ¡°Anyway, we can probably get in right there. It¡¯s hidden enough that if we watch until nobody¡¯s looking, we can go right to the house.¡±


    Exchanging a glance with Pack, I shrugged. ¡°Good enough for me. Better plan than I could have come up with, that¡¯s for sure. Come on, let¡¯s get over there. Maybe it won¡¯t smell as bad.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like thirty feet away, Paintball,¡± Pack hissed as we started to move quietly and stealthily along the edge of the fence. ¡°There¡¯s being optimistic and then there¡¯s just being delusional.¡±


    Through my bluetooth earpiece, I heard Way murmur, ¡°Told you we should¡¯ve stopped long enough to get those scented lip balms to rub under your nose before we came all the way out here. See what happens when you¡¯re in a rush?¡±


    ¡°You might¡¯ve been right,¡± I whispered, waving a hand dismissively at the other two when they looked at me curiously. ¡°Feel free to rub that in my face when we¡¯re done with this. But while you¡¯re at it, could you also rub a bouquet of flowers or something in my face too?¡±


    By that point, we¡¯d reached the little gate that Alloy had mentioned. Sure enough, it was easy to climb over. I used a quick shot of black paint to silence the gate so that it wouldn¡¯t rattle as we did just that. Quickly, the three of us dropped into a crouch in the bushes next to the tool shed. To the right off in the distance, we could see people still walking around with the animals. But this area seemed to be for employees, and none of them were over here. At the moment, it was clear. Well, mostly clear. There was one young couple, maybe in their very early twenties, who were having a conversation and could have seen us if we darted across the space to the house.


    Hoping that more people wouldn¡¯t wander over, we crouched there and silently urged the two to hurry up and move on. But they just kept standing there. Finally, I whispered an idea to Alloy, and she nodded before sending her bronze marble flying low to the ground that way, keeping the thing out of sight. It went past the couple, into the nearby pig pen, and sort of¡­ firmly poked one of the pigs there. It was enough to make the pig jerk around and oink loudly, which made the couple turn to see what was going on.


    We immediately took advantage of that, darting quickly across the space to the house. There was a door there, but we didn¡¯t use it. Instead, I shot red paint up toward the balcony of the third floor, where we knew Amanda¡¯s apartment was supposed to be, and let it yank me that way. Behind me, Alloy turned two of her marbles into a flying platform to lift herself and Pack. We got all the way up, dropping down onto the balcony itself before anyone saw us. At least, I hoped we did. At the very least, nobody seemed to react, and a glance down showed everyone acting normal. We¡¯d made it. We were here, right outside the girl¡¯s apartment, without attracting attention. So far, so good. Now if only our luck would actually continue.


    As soon as the three of us were convinced nobody had seen us get up there, we turned our attention to the sliding door. Or, more accurately, through the door. I was ready to quickly try to reassure Amanda that we weren¡¯t a threat if the woman was standing right there, but there was no sign of her. We were looking into a small, cluttered living room that looked like it hadn¡¯t been picked up in months. There were no food containers or anything gross like that, it was just¡­ cluttered. There were blankets and pillows everywhere, a TV tray stand with a bunch of toys scattered across it, random flashlights and other electronics, books, and a few bottles of various types of glue, a bunch of boxes with who-knew-what in them (I could see a stack of magazines practically spilling out of one), and more. It was a mess, with a narrow path leading to the very comfortable-looking armchair seated in front of a fairly decent television.


    ¡°This chick definitely doesn¡¯t care about keeping her place tidy,¡± Pack murmured. She leaned forward and looked down before coughing. ¡°But she does care about her security.¡±


    Following her gaze, I saw what she was talking about. There was a very elaborate and advanced-looking alarm attached to the door. If we slid it open, it would go off. And since that was there, I was pretty sure the glass itself was probably alarmed too. To say nothing of the windows and every other entrance. This was going to be complicated. Not that I could blame her at all. If I had gone through what she did, I¡¯d make sure every inch of my home was protected from invasion too. Honestly, I¡¯d be surprised if she didn¡¯t have some Touched-Tech that she¡¯d bought added into the mix. Not to mention guns. Or even Touched-Tech guns. Good ones were expensive as hell, especially to have someone come out and maintain them, but something told me this Amanda girl would see having the extra protection as worth it.


    ¡°What if she¡¯s not home?¡± Alloy whispered, reminding me of an option we really hadn¡¯t put too much consideration to, somehow. ¡°How long do we sit here waiting for her? Because I¡¯m pretty sure those guys will eventually look up. And the three of us? We don¡¯t really blend in.¡±


    Yeah, she had a point. Grimacing to myself for a moment while thinking intently, I finally shrugged. ¡°I guess the best we can do is knock and see if she responds,¡± I whispered back.


    So, that was what we did. While the other two kept an eye below just in case, I reached up and gave a light knock against the sliding door. When that prompted no response, I knocked a little louder. Again, there was nothing. So, I knocked one more time, even louder, though hopefully not enough to attract attention from below. It was a hard balance to strike. We wanted the woman inside (if she was there) to hear, but not the people below.


    I was about to suggest that we think of somewhere safer to wait for the woman, such as the roof, when movement from inside caught my attention. I looked that way in time to see the girl in question standing in the doorway between the living room and some other place, staring at us. She was just like the pictures I¡¯d seen in a few of the houses of the people we¡¯d visited, a girl around eighteen or nineteen, with long dark hair and features that most probably would have called gorgeous. Brilliant blue eyes with a sort-of smoldering look, a figure that would¡¯ve made any guy turn his head, all that sort of thing. All the stuff I wasn¡¯t.


    But then again, I hadn¡¯t had my entire family destroyed and torn apart by a psychotic monster.


    I could see the surprise on the girl¡¯s face. She looked visibly taken aback, standing there with her mouth open. So, I reached out to touch the glass and made words appear there, reversed on our side so she could read them.


    ¡®It¡¯s okay, we¡¯re not here to hurt you. Please, can we come in? It¡¯s safe, we promise.¡¯


    See her lips move as she read those words. For a moment, her head tilted, as though considering them. There was a momentary strange expression on her face. It almost looked like amusement before she shook it off. Probably just didn¡¯t know how to react to something like three Touched showing up on her balcony asking to come in.


    Finally, the woman moved over by the door. She opened a little pad there and hit a few buttons, before unlocking the door and sliding it open. She looked at us crouched there, quietly asking, ¡°This is about that psycho, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯re here about¡­ him.¡± The girl shuddered visibly, her gaze a bit haunted.


    I nodded quickly. ¡°We¡¯re really sorry to bother you. We just¡­ we have to ask you a few things. We were careful, we made sure no one saw us come in.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± she pressed. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely positive that nobody else knows you¡¯re here?¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s safe.¡±


    ¡°Safe¡­¡± she echoed the word, biting her lip before stepping back. ¡°Okay then.


    ¡°Come on in.¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-07

    <div>


    A sense of relief washed over me once Amanda agreed to let us come inside. I had really expected that to be harder, after everything she¡¯d been through. I figured she¡¯d be pretty paranoid about anyone unexpected showing up, let alone a few Touched. Then again, maybe she¡¯d had enough good experiences with Star-Touched helping her since that horrible night that she was okay with us. I wasn¡¯t sure, but either way, at least she actually let us into her place.


    On the other hand, she definitely wasn¡¯t interested in anyone else getting inside. That much was made clear when Amanda immediately shut the door as soon as we were through, and took the time to set the lock and alarm once more. Which¡­ made me feel a little funny in my stomach. I couldn¡¯t explain it, but the moment that girl locked and keyed the alarm, I felt a little jittery. It was probably just because of the whole situation. Anything that had to do with Pencil and the Scions made me antsy, for obvious reasons. Especially considering how pissed off he would be if he found out we were trying to find out about any weaknesses or vulnerabilities he might have.


    ¡°Nice uhh, crowded place you¡¯ve got here,¡± Pack noted after a moment of looking around the room, stuffed as it was with boxes, stacks of magazines and books, scissors, glue, clocks, and more. ¡°You ever think about renting a storage unit for some of this stuff?¡± She added that bit while turning back to the girl in question. ¡°I mean, just so you have more room around here.¡±


    ¡°I like it this way,¡± Amanda informed us in a quiet, uncertain voice. ¡°I know where everything is.¡± She squirmed a bit uncomfortably before adding, ¡°And I don¡¯t trust storage places. People can break into those. Here, I¨Cat least I¡¯ll know if someone breaks in. They don¡¯t let you put alarms or extra security on storage units. And it¡¯s super-easy to get through one of their dumb padlocks.¡±


    Pack, clearly grinning behind that mask, gave her a pair of thumbs up. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s probably safer. My people and me, we break into those places all the time. You¡¯re right, security sucks unless you go with something really high end. Even then, really. This one time, my buddy Eits, he¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly put in, before this whole conversation could devolve into even more of an ongoing list of things I really didn¡¯t want to hear about. ¡°I think we all get the point. Besides, we¡¯re not really here to talk about where, uh, Miss Sanvers decides to keep her belongings.¡±


    ¡°But why are you guys here together?¡± Amanda slowly asked, looking back and forth between Pack and me, her attention flicking toward Alloy for a brief moment, but mainly staying on the two of us. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re a good guy, and you¡¯re a bad guy. Uh, bad girl, whatever. You¡¯re a villain.¡± Her tone wasn¡¯t accusatory at all, more curious about the situation than anything else.


    Alloy was being silent, probably an attack of nerves given how new to all this she was. And Pack was probably the wrong person to defend herself. So I spoke up. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s a villain. But more of a jolly thief sort of villain instead of the¡­¡± Suddenly, I didn¡¯t want to finish that sentence. Not after what I knew this girl had been through. It felt too much like I was making light of it.


    Amanda finished it instead, her tone flat. ¡°Not the kill everyone you know and laugh about it sort, like him.¡± She didn¡¯t have to be any more specific than that. We all knew who she meant.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I murmured under my breath before shaking off the deeply uncomfortable feeling that had tried to creep over me yet again. ¡°More than one kind of villain, and her kind is nothing like his. Let¡¯s just say we¡¯re all interested in getting rid of that piece of shit before he hurts any more people. If we can, we¡¯ll make sure they stick him in a deep, dark hole in the middle of Breakwater, where he can¡¯t ever get out. He can rot there forever like the rabid worm he is.¡±


    For a brief second, there was a strange look on the older girl¡¯s face. I couldn¡¯t really describe it, nor did I understand what it meant. It was sort of an almost feral expression, and my best guess was that she was thinking about all the terrible things she wanted to happen to the guy who had hurt her family so much, who had torn them apart and destroyed their lives. Thinking about it that way, the expression made sense. Of course she wanted to rip his heart out. That was what that look had put in my head, the feeling that this girl was desperate to tear someone apart.


    Thinking about what she had been through and had to be feeling was making me really uncomfortable. So, I cleared my throat before pushing on. Uncertain as I was about this whole situation, it was important. Far too important to let a little thing like a heavy feeling in my stomach stop me. ¡°Sorry, maybe we should start from the beginning. You already know who we are, but still. I¡¯m Paintball. That¡¯s Alloy and Pack. And yeah, we¡¯re here to find out anything you know about Pencil, anything you might not have shared with the authorities already.¡±


    ¡°The word is you might be holding something back,¡± Alloy put in, stepping over to put herself behind me and slightly to the side. ¡°Either because you¡¯re afraid of what he¡¯ll do if he finds out you umm, you actually do know anything important and tell anyone about it, or¡­¡±


    ¡°Or that you don¡¯t want the official by-the-book hero types to know because you¡¯re afraid they¡¯ll screw it up,¡± Pack finished for her. ¡°Which, yeah, totally fair. I mean, have you seen some of those guys? Anyway, that¡¯s where I come in, to let you know this definitely isn¡¯t by-the-book.¡±


    Amanda started to say something, before stopping herself. She seemed to consider briefly, then turned to walk through the nearby doorway. ¡°Come on, the kitchen¡¯s a little less crowded than this place. You can sit down, while we talk about what a suicidally stupid idea this is.¡±


    So, the three of us looked at each other and offered a collection of shrugs before following. I¡¯d known from the start that this was going to be awkward, but even this was more than I¡¯d expected. It was going¡­ well, in some ways it was going better than I¡¯d imagined. She wasn¡¯t yelling at us, or refusing to talk, or breaking down because we¡¯d brought up those tragic memories. On the surface, it was going okay. And yet, there was still something. I felt strange, uncomfortable, even¡­ not quite afraid, really. Tense. I still felt tense, and it wasn¡¯t going away.


    Well duh, of course I felt tense. Who wouldn¡¯t in a situation like this? We were asking a girl who had been horrifically traumatized to throw herself into the lion¡¯s den again and paint a target on her back by telling us secrets that she didn¡¯t even feel comfortable telling the Conservators.


    The kitchen was slightly less crowded, if only because everything was piled on the counters rather than the floor or table. There were a bunch of boxes in there too, all of them labeled things like ¡®dishes¡¯ or ¡®towels.¡¯ One big one in the corner of the room had ¡®microwaves¡¯ written on it. There was barely space on the counter to cook anything. Even the stove was covered.


    But the table was clear (completely empty, actually), and surrounded by four chairs. We all sat down, the three of us on one side of the table and Amanda on the other.


    ¡°So,¡± I started once everyone was settled, ¡°you were going to tell us how stupid we were?¡±


    Before she could respond to that, Alloy spoke up. ¡°I know you. I¡¯ve seen you before. I knew I had, but it was¨Cyou were at my school. You and¡­ your brother?¡±


    Amanda offered a very faint smile. ¡°Yeah, we visit the schools sometimes to give motivational¡­ talks or whatever.¡± She shrugged listlessly. ¡°He¡¯s more into it than me. You know, when he¡¯s in town. I don¡¯t really¡­. do much by myself.¡± A slight frown touched her face before the girl sighed, folding her arms protectively against her stomach. ¡°You always think it¡¯ll go away, you know? It¡¯s been years. It should¡¯ve gone away by now. It should feel better.¡± She swallowed hard. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t. It doesn¡¯t get any better. You just learn to live with it.¡±


    There was a moment of silence before she gave us a very shaky smile. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m really sorry. I¡¯m usually better in the schools about telling kids how they can move on, seriously. I just¨CI wasn¡¯t expecting to talk to anyone today. Let alone, you know, people like you. And I definitely wasn¡¯t expecting to talk about¡­¡± She took in a long breath before letting it out. ¡°Him.¡±


    Yeah, now I definitely felt bad about being here. As if I hadn¡¯t already. Looking down at the table, I heaved a long sigh before raising my gaze to hers. She was staring at me with an expression I couldn¡¯t interpret. When our eyes met, she offered me a small, clearly humorless smile. ¡°You know what I mean, don¡¯t you?¡± Her voice was emotionless. ¡°You¡¯ve talked to him. I can tell.¡±


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    ¡°Yeah,¡± I confirmed while doing my best not to think about what being around Pencil and Cup had been like. I still woke up in a cold sweat sometimes from dreaming about being taken by the two of them for their revenge. Even closing my eyes right now, I could picture that psycho staring at me from behind that cloth sack mask. It made a thick lump form in my throat while a cold chill washed over me. I had to swallow hard before pushing myself to my feet. It felt too uncomfortable to sit anymore. Like I was trapped. I felt trapped in here, which was crazy.


    ¡°We know your history with him,¡± Pack spoke up, taking heat off of me for a moment so I could pull myself together. ¡°You and your family were some of his first victims, before anyone even knew he was Touched. Hell, you guys might¡¯ve even been the first, before he knew what he was capable of. Before he had a solid lock on how his power works, or how it doesn¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here,¡± I finally managed, folding my arms as I stood behind Pack¡¯s chair. ¡°Because we think you might have seen something that night. Something he didn¡¯t know he should be careful about because he was so new to the whole thing. And¡­ and we¡¯re really sorry to bring up those memories. What happened to your family, it was¡­¡± I fought the urge to shudder at the thought, meeting her intense gaze as she seemed to stare right through me. ¡°It was awful. And he¡¯s hurt so many more people since then, killed so many more people.¡±


    It was Amanda¡¯s turn to pop up from the table, the chair falling to the floor behind her as she stared at me with a mixture of anger and frustration on her face. ¡°And you think that¡¯s my fault? You think I wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve stopped him if I could? You think I know something I haven¡¯t told the cops already? That this piece of shit killed my fucking pare¨Cno, made my parents kill each other, but I¡¯m holding back some super-secret special weakness of his just because¨Cwhat, because I don¡¯t want him to get caught? Oh, maybe you think I¡¯m laughing at it, is that it? Do you think that I think all those people getting hurt and dying is funny?! Is that what you¡¯re getting at? You think I¡¯m laughing about them dying?!¡± Her voice had risen to the point of near-hysteria by that point, eyes wild as she practically shouted her way through the whole retort.


    ¡°No!¡± That was Alloy, who quickly stood up to put herself next to me as if ready to jump in for protection. ¡°That¡¯s not what he¡¯s saying, just¨Cjust hold on. No one¡¯s saying that, Miss Sanvers.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± I carefully managed, holding both hands up. Obviously, this was a very touchy subject. Not that I could blame Amanda for feeling reflexively defensive about the whole thing. If it was me and I had been through that with my brother and parents? I¡­ yeah, I definitely would¡¯ve been pretty upset if someone came up to me and seemed to be implying that I didn¡¯t do everything I possibly could to bring their murderer to justice. No wonder she was angry.


    With all that running through my head, I kept my hands raised and didn¡¯t break eye contact with Amanda. ¡°I know us being here and bringing this stuff up again isn¡¯t easy. I know the¨C I know it¡¯s fucked up for us even to bring up this possibility at all. It¡¯s not that we think you wouldn¡¯t have helped the cops already if you could. It¡¯s more that¡­ that you might¡¯ve been afraid to tell them something that would make Pencil come after you again. Which, trust me, everyone understands. Maybe even something that you thought of later. The people we talked to, they think you might know something that you¡¯ve been waiting for the right time to share. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here. Because we¡¯re not the cops. We¡¯re not the Conservators or the Minority. We want him stopped, whatever it takes. Even working with Fell-Touched.¡± I gestured toward Pack demonstrably. ¡°But I promise, no one thinks you don¡¯t want him arrested, Miss Sanvers.¡±


    ¡°Amanda,¡± she corrected, seeming to visibly deflate with a heavy sigh. Folding her arms protectively against herself, the older girl slumped against the nearby counter. ¡°Just call me Amanda, all of you. And I know. I know that¡¯s not what you were saying. I didn¡¯t mean t¨CI just¡­¡± Her eyes closed tightly and I saw a single tear slowly leak down one side of her face. ¡°Every time someone brings up what happened back then, I can¡¯t think straight. I want¨CI hate him. I hate him so much. It scares me sometimes, how much I want him to suffer after what he did. He took my mom and dad away. He made them¨Che was going to-¡± She cut herself off with a shudder before opening her eyes to look at us, her gaze sweeping over Pack, Alloy, and me. ¡°If we¡¯d stopped him that night, if Nick and me actually could¡¯ve remembered something back then that helped the cops catch him, all those other people would still be alive.¡±


    She looked away from us staring through the nearby window in silence for a few long seconds. Then the girl swallowed, setting her shoulders as though preparing to say something very difficult. ¡°And we did.¡± She turned back to us with a nervous expression, making it very clear that she was afraid to even be saying what was about to come out. ¡°We did see something. I mean we found something. Later, after the cops and everyone all left, we found a¡­ a wallet just sort of laying under a chair. We¡­ we realized it was his. It had a bunch of different IDs in it and everything, but it was a lead. It had his face. I didn¡¯t really look at it very much, I was¡­ I was scared to, after everything. But Nick did. He looked at that monster¡¯s face for hours.¡±


    ¡°You know what he looks like?¡± Pack¡¯s voice was flat. ¡°You and your brother know what Pencil really looks like? Why didn¡¯t you tell anyone about that, so they could identify him? If your brother stared at it for so long, he really could¡¯ve helped catch the guy a long time ago.¡±


    ¡°Was it because you were afraid of what might happen if Pencil found out you identified him?¡± I asked very quietly, afraid that all of this would set the girl off again. ¡°If he even thinks you might be able to tell the authorities what he really looks like¡­¡± A shiver ran through me as I thought about how the psycho undoubtedly would have reacted to a threat like that.


    ¡°That¡¯s why he hasn¡¯t come after you,¡± Alloy realized with a soft gasp. ¡°Because he thinks if you did find his wallet and all those IDs with his picture, you would¡¯ve told the cops already. But you didn¡¯t, so he thinks you never found it. Or maybe he thinks he dropped it somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Is that it?¡± I carefully asked, watching Amanda¡¯s reaction. ¡°You guys found his wallet and didn¡¯t tell anyone because you were afraid of what he¡¯d do if he found out you identified him?¡± I tried to keep all judgment out of my voice, because I had no idea how I would¡¯ve acted in that situation. Part of me was angry that she and her brother hadn¡¯t done more to stop this, but I knew firsthand how terrifying Pencil could be. Actually, they knew a lot better than I did. I didn¡¯t have nearly as bad of an experience as Amanda and her brother had. But just from what I¡¯d read and seen for myself, I could understand the two of them being too afraid to paint a target on their backs, no matter how much they wanted Pencil to go down. It was a horrific situation all the way through. Being afraid of making that piece of shit angry was completely reasonable.


    Amanda, however, corrected me. ¡°We did tell, once. We told¡­ someone who was investigating it. We told him exactly what you guys are asking. But he just¨Che told us it wasn¡¯t his job to get involved with something that dangerous, and if we knew what was good for us, we¡¯d back off. And he¡­ he took the wallet. He kept it himself, as like¡­ insurance or something. If you want to know what Pencil looks like, you have to find that guy.¡±


    ¡°Who was he?¡± I asked, glancing briefly toward the others. Yeah, this wasn¡¯t all that surprising. Pencil was dangerous, whoever took the wallet from them might¡¯ve, in some way, thought he was saving Amanda and her brother. Or maybe he was just a dick. He could¡¯ve sold the wallet back to Pencil himself. Hell, I knew for a fact that the authorities weren¡¯t always trustworthy.


    Either way, tracking him down and finding out what he did with it would be¨C


    ¡°Parson,¡± Amanda promptly informed us. ¡°His name is Robert Parson.¡±


    The other two reacted immediately, though quite differently. Pack looked over at me, while Alloy promptly echoed the name. ¡°Robert Parson. So I guess we just have to find this guy, and¨C¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The word escaped me before I even knew I was talking. My head was shaking suddenly. ¡°No, that¡¯s not right.¡± I had no idea exactly how I was so certain at that moment. I did remember the guy enough to know that I had liked him as a kid. Even before you added in the whole saving my life part that Paige had informed me of. I had liked him back then, yet even that didn¡¯t fully explain why I was so dead certain that he never would¡¯ve done what she was saying. But I was. Which could only mean one thing, which I blurted unthinkingly. ¡°You¡¯re lying. He didn¡¯t do that, he didn¡¯t take the wallet. You¡¯re lying about that. You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± That was Alloy, blinking over at me in obvious confusion. ¡°What do you mean? Aren¡¯t we¨C¡±


    She was interrupted, however, by Amanda, who offered a casual little shrug. Her expression had turned to a sly, cocky smile. ¡°Oh well,¡± she all-but purred, ¡°it was worth a shot.¡±


    Yeah, I didn¡¯t have a danger sense (clearly), but if I did have one, it would¡¯ve been screaming its head off. Alloy and Pack obviously both realized something was wrong too. Unfortunately, before any of us could do anything, Amanda held up her hand. There was a remote in it, and she pushed the button. Instantly, the three of us were blinded by a bright flash that seemed to come from every corner of the room. At the same time, I felt a wave of nausea that made me fall to my knees, then onto my side. Nearby, I heard thumps from the other two. I tried to fight my way through it, but the whole room was spinning. There was a dull ringing in my ears, and it felt like I was going to throw up in my helmet.


    My vision was swimming, going in and out for a moment even as I caught a glimpse of Amanda standing over me. She was staring at me with an intensely creepy, soulless smile while producing a deceptively simple-looking white cloth mask. She touched it to her face, and the thing automatically attached itself and stayed there.


    ¡°Now,¡± Cup informed us.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s safe to say I have a few questions of my own.¡±

 Hostile Witness 18-08

    I couldn¡¯t move. Whatever we had just been hit with, it paralyzed us. All I could do was lay there.


    Okay, to take stock, this¡­ could have been going better. I had spent so much time focusing on being afraid that talking to this Amanda girl would somehow attract Pencil¡¯s attention, from him seeing her as a potential loose end, that it hadn¡¯t even occurred to me to ever think that she could be an actual threat. And I sure as hell had never expected anything like this.


    Amanda was Cup. The girl we had come to talk to, the one who had been a potential lead to a way of stopping Pencil, was his sister¨Cwait. That meant the guy who was supposed to be in Alaska, Nick, he was¡­ he was¡­ oh. God damn it, why did I never even think about that?


    Well, obviously, because there was a video of Pencil himself with the young Amanda and Nick tied up while he manipulated their parents into killing each other. Deicide had shown it to Alloy and me, though she stopped it just before the gunshots. What¨Chow would that even¨Cwhat?


    A giggle interrupted my racing thoughts. My attention was dragged right back to Aman¨CCup herself, as she straightened while still standing over me. ¡°Isn¡¯t this fun? You came back! And you brought friends this time.¡± Her gaze moved to look over toward Pack and Alloy, before pausing. ¡°Hold up.¡± Moving that way a few steps, she leaned closer to my new partner for a moment before audibly sighing while straightening back up, her voice full of annoyance. ¡°Great, it knocked that one unconscious. I thought it was supposed to just paralyze!¡± She paused, then gave a little giggle. ¡°Ohhh right, yeah that makes sense. Never mind, we¡¯re all good. I mean, I¡¯m good. You¡¯re all still kinda fucked.¡±


    Alloy was unconscious? I supposed that explained why her marbles weren¡¯t going psycho attacking Cup right now. But damn it! I was supposed to keep her safe. I¡¯d¨Cthis was first thing we were doing together  in the real world, and it had all been fucked up this badly. She was unconscious and paralyzed in the home of one of the leaders of the fucking Scions of Typhon, for fucks sake. I screwed up. I screwed up badly, and if we couldn¡¯t get out of here, Alloy would¡­ no. Don¡¯t think about that. I couldn¡¯t think about that. If I did, I¡¯d spiral into a hopeless nightmare. I had to think.


    After her little giggle fit, Cup shrugged. ¡°Oh well, two out of three staying conscious ain¡¯t bad. And we can still play.¡±


    ¡°You wanna play, cunt?¡± the La Casa girl countered in a growl while still laying motionless. ¡°How about Connect Four? I¡¯ll shove every single one of those plastic discs up your¨C¡±


    ¡°Not on the first date, silly!¡± Cup interrupted, tutting while giving Pack a light, almost playful kick with her foot. ¡°Besides, I have much more fun plans in mind than a dumb board game. I¡¯ll just have to do most of the physical stuff myself, since that paralyzing ray won¡¯t wear off for awhile. And, you know, that new best friend of yours is still asleep. Gotta do something about that¡­¡±


    Through the bluetooth in my helmet, I heard That-A-Way. ¡°Paintball, we¡¯re on our way in!¡±


    Right, right, because we hadn¡¯t actually been completely stupid about this whole thing. We had backup. Backup that would come in and help deal with Cup before she had time to call Pencil or any of the other Scions. She was too busy gloating in front of us to even think about moving fast. And why not? As far as she knew, she had all of us trapped here. We¡¯d even told her that no one else knew we were there when we came in. She was in no rush. She wasn¡¯t even¡­


    ¡°No!¡± I suddenly blurted out loud as a thought jumped to mind. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t come any closer.¡±


    Tilting her head, Cup stared down at me. ¡°Aww,¡± she all-but-purred, ¡°is the little hero boy scared now that he¡¯s back here?¡± She squatted down close to me, tapping the visor of my helmet. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry one little bit. Auntie Cup¡¯s gonna take excellent care of you, yes she is.¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± That-A-Way¡¯s voice came through the earbud again, ¡°if you were trying to tell us to wait, say something that ends with the word ¡®Scion.¡¯ And you better have a damn good reason.¡±


    I did. At least, I hoped I did. Taking a breath, I stared up at Cup¡¯s eager face. At least, the part I could still see with that white mask covering the lower half. God, how had I completely failed to realize that the girl we had been talking to was her? Seriously, now it was obvious while looking at her eyes. Sure, she was pretty good at pretending to have all her marbles, but I should¡¯ve recognized her. I should¡¯ve paid more attention. I should¡¯ve been more on top of things.


    Forcing those thoughts away, I quickly spoke up. ¡°So you¡¯re really part of the Scions.¡±


    ¡°God damn it,¡± Way snapped, clearly upset about the whole situation. Which, fair. ¡°This better be a real plan. If you¡¯re just trying to play noble sacrifice or something, I¡¯m going to kill you. We¡¯ll wait for a minute, but you need to make it clear what the hell you¡¯re doing or we¡¯re coming in. And when you do want us to come in, end a sentence with the word nuts.¡±


    Cup, meanwhile, chuckled a little while shaking her head. ¡°Still catching up with that, huh?¡± She gave me a kick that wasn¡¯t nearly as gentle as the one she had given Pack. ¡°Poor boy. You know, I haven¡¯t forgotten about that whole nasty business at the cabin. You and your¡­¡± She turned, giving Pack herself a second kick, this one as hard as mine. ¡°¡­ friends hurt me! Threatened me, made poor Pencil all mad too. Oh, but he¡¯s gonna be really happy when I bring you to him. Think I¡¯ll find a big red bow and stick it right on your head. Won¡¯t that be great? And wait til I tell him how you came strolling right in. Ain¡¯t that the funniest shit?¡±


    Okay, okay, I had to be careful with this if the plan that had jumped into my head was going to work. This was incredibly dangerous, and maybe stupid. But it was the best chance we had to actually get somewhere with the whole Scions thing. Yeah, there was still a chance of doing some real damage to them, and not just from knowing Cup¡¯s identity. Given how many stolen Touched-Tech toys Pencil had, and the fact that Cup had already demonstrated having this place wired with stolen tech that was able to paralyze us? I had no doubt that she had a way to teleport out of this place to safety the second Raindrop and Way got here. She certainly had methods of escaping, so we couldn¡¯t even count on catching her with help from those two. Especially not while Pack and I were paralyzed and Alloy was unconscious. No, if those two burst in, at best they¡¯d just be able to make her flee. Then we¡¯d be back to square one. Which, to be fair, was a hell of a lot better than being at square ¡®captured by the Scions,¡¯ but still.


    To that end, I took a moment to collect my thoughts before speaking again. ¡°That was some pretty good acting back there. I really felt sorry for you.¡± I was careful to keep my tone a mix between forced lightness and fearful. I wanted Cup to see me as terrified but trying to hide it. Shockingly, that wasn¡¯t a hard thing to pull off, given the actual situation we were in.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Pack snapped in my direction, ¡°I really don¡¯t ask for that much, but could you pretty please refrain from complimenting the evil fucking psychopath who wants to torture and kill us?¡±


    ¡°Aww, you really liked that, huh?¡± Cup was ignoring Pack, her gaze focused on me. ¡°And see, I didn¡¯t even expect to see you today. Pulled that whole performance out of nowhere, just like that. Can you believe I lost the lead in the school play to Bethany Dane? Not that she had much of a chance to enjoy it.¡± Her tone with those words sent a terrible shiver down my spine.


    ¡°Actually,¡± I made myself reply, ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about today. I mean, really, kudos there too. No, I was talking about the video. The one of you and¡­ what was his name, again? Your brother. I mean, his real name. Nick? Right, Nick. I was talking about the video where you and Nick were all terrified because your parents were about to be killed. Err, sorry, were about to kill each other. You two seriously looked scared. I really thought you were innocent victims. That¡¯s the performance that really should¡¯ve gotten you the lead over that Bethany Dane chick.¡±


    There was a brief pause while the girl seemed to be considering my words. I held my breath, waiting to see if she bought into it. Then, she chuckled lightly. ¡°It should¡¯ve, huh? That was the role of a lifetime. I mean seriously, how many people get to pretend they¡¯re sad that their parents just had to shoot each other because they thought they were saving them?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re completely fucked up,¡± Pack put in from where she was still lying on the floor. ¡°And honestly, I¡¯m not sure if I mean you or the idiot over there trying to butter you up!¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She sounded completely pissed, but I knew Pack fairly well by now. I was pretty sure she¡¯d already figured out that I actually had a real reason for all this. She knew I had a plan, and was backing me up on it by being openly antagonistic. The bad cop to my good cop, so to speak.


    Casually, Cup remarked, ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. I know exactly what he¡¯s doing.¡± My stomach clenched, before she went on. ¡°He¡¯s hoping if I talk long enough, that paralyzing ray will wear off and you can all escape. But it doesn¡¯t really matter. See, it¡¯ll take another¡­ oh, hour or so? Unless I use the counter ray. But you know, I really don¡¯t see myself doing that anytime soon.¡±


    Oh man, she¡¯d figured out my cunning plan to trick her into talking long enough for the paralyzing beam to wear off so we could escape. What was I going to do now? Woe is m¨Coh right, that wasn¡¯t my actual plan. But cool for her for thinking she¡¯d caught on.


    Still, I made myself hesitate a little as though her words actually had an effect before pushing on. ¡°But seriously, how? I mean, did your brother just kill the real Pencil and steal his identity?¡±


    There, that ought to do it.


    ¡°Kill the real Pencil and steal his identity?¡± Cup¡¯s voice radiated annoyance. Yup, my words had done the job. ¡°Are you that fucking stupid? Of course we didn¡¯t¨CI mean¡­ kid, he is the real Pencil. The one and only truly original. That guy was just a stupid patsy, he was dead before he ever left the house, like five minutes after the camera stopped rolling.¡±


    ¡°W-wait.¡± Again, it wasn¡¯t hard to inject fear into my voice. I had the subtlest impression that she got off on scaring people, so she¡¯d react better to that than fake awe or respect. Trying to play up to her ego wouldn¡¯t work, but pretending everything she said scared the crap out of me? Well, I wasn¡¯t really pretending so much, but either way, that was how I could make her talk. ¡°You mean you guys didn¡¯t just¡­ wa-wait, I thought you were just¡­ just so broken after what he did that you turned bad then. Like, he made you bad?¡± Yeah, saying it like that sounded ridiculously childish, but again, that seemed like the best way to get the crazy bitch talking.


    ¡°Made us bad?¡± Cup¡¯s taunting laugh was enough to make my teeth grind a bit. ¡°Oh, you sweet, sweet little boy. No, no, no. We pulled him in, hired him. He was an actor, little puppy. Just a dumb wannabe like so many others. A poser. He played his role just the way we scripted it.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± Pack put in, clearly getting all the way into her role as the bad cop of this whole thing. ¡°You expect us to believe a couple teenagers did all that? Who was your boss? Who¡¯s the one who really put all of it together and recruited you? I wanna know who the real power is.¡±


    From the corner of my eye, I could barely make out Cup¡¯s form as she moved to stand over Pack. Her voice was dangerous. ¡°Is that right, lizard girl? You want to know who the real power is? I think we can accommodate that. Give me five minutes, you¡¯ll know who has the power.¡±


    Okay maybe that was a little too far. Cup was clearly right on the edge. We didn¡¯t want her to immediately call Pencil or the others, but if she started¡­ getting involved like she clearly wanted to do with Pack right now, that would be bad too. Quickly, I blurted, ¡°It was the powers, right?¡± Feeling Cup¡¯s gaze on me, I continued. ¡°Some people think they can make you evil. That must¡¯ve been what happened to you guys. We can get you help, there¡¯s some doctors who think they can reverse the psychological effect of the sphere and make you normal ag¨C¡±


    That did the trick. A little too well, actually, as there was an abrupt rush of movement before her foot collided with my stomach. Thankfully, I¡¯d painted a bit of orange on the inside of my costume, so I barely felt it. Still, I gave her the yelp of pain she was clearly itching for.


    ¡°Now you listen to me, you little fuck,¡± Cup snapped. ¡°Nothing changed us. Nothing made Nick and me what we are. We¡¯re in control. We did all that before we even had powers. That¡¯s right, we didn¡¯t get powers until right after that happened. Those little spheres showed up and gave us these gifts because they were so impressed. They knew we deserved them after what we managed to do. Just think about that for a second.¡± Her foot came down on my stomach, not hard but just sort of resting there with a little force. ¡°We talked our own parents into killing each other, and we did it through a fucking proxy. We talked a moron sucker into playing the big bad role on camera so everyone would think he was responsible and feel sorry for us, got him to talk our parents into killing each other, and then killed him ourselves. Myself. I did it. Now everyone thinks Pencil is the guy who did all that. You know who¡¯s not a suspect and will never be? His first poor, innocent victims. That¡¯s what we pulled off. That¡¯s why the orbs came and gave us our rewards. Because they wanted to see what else we could do. They were proud of us.¡±


    Oh boy, was there an awful lot I wanted to say to that. But I stuck to my original plan and simply replied (in a voice that was still shaky from the terror I wanted her to hear), ¡°Th-the orbs gave you power as a reward? I¨CI don¡¯t¡­ Is that why they gave Pencil such a bigger reward than they gave you? Because all that stuff was his idea and he¡¯s the one in charge?¡±


    There was a very slight pause before Cup crouched over me. Her gaze seemed to bore through the visor and straight into my eyes as she very dangerously murmured, ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Right, I had to be careful about this. Hesitating slightly, I offered her a confused, ¡°I mean, because he¡¯s invincible. He¡¯s like, completely invincible to everything and you¡­ uhh, you make people freeze for a couple seconds?¡± Yes, I was deliberately downplaying it. I figured with any luck, I could maybe get her to tell us any weaknesses Pencil might have just to counter my claim that he was completely invincible. Measured against her own power, complete invincibility to everything seemed wildly unfair, and I figured that would twist her buttons a little. Maybe just enough to get the girl to retort that Pencil wasn¡¯t actually totally invincible. Sure, it was a longshot, but it was the best chance we had of getting real information while we were here.


    Cup gave a low chuckle of amusement while roughly tapping my visor a few times. ¡°You think that¡¯s all I do? Boy, you really are as stupid as the others, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Pack put in, ¡°you gonna try to say that making someone stop to think about whatever ridiculous nonsense question you make up is better than literal invulnerability? Face it, babe, you¡¯re a far distant second behind the kind of power your brother has. Hell, not even that. You guys recruit some good powers. Maybe you¡¯re like¡­ third or fourth? Seriously, it¡¯s not even close. With his power, it¡¯s like he¡¯s Superman, and you¡¯re¡­ just that bad guy with the stilts.¡±


    There was a low growl from the crazy girl before she retorted, ¡°First of all, you¡¯re mixing comic universes. Superman¡¯s DC and Stiltman is Marvel. Get it right. And second¡­¡± She trailed off, tapping my visor a couple times indecisively before straightening. ¡°I¡¯ve got some news for you.¡±


    Wait, was this actually about to work? Was she about to tell us something secret about Pencil¡¯s power? The whole thing had been such a crazy reach, and yet, it sure sounded like that.


    But no. The next words out of the girl¡¯s mouth weren¡¯t some big secret about Pencil. Actually, it wasn¡¯t about him at all. Instead, she picked up that remote she had been using earlier, the one that triggered the paralyzing ray. ¡°You think my power just makes your brain freeze up? It lets me borrow your brain, stupid.¡± She tapped the remote pointedly against my visor. ¡°I ask you a stupid, nonsensical question and while you¡¯re stuck trying to figure it out, I get these ideas. Ideas like this thing.¡± She waved the remote in my face. ¡°I know how to build things, anything I want. But I only get inspired when I get to borrow other people¡¯s brains for it. I use my power, their brains lock up, and I get ideas for my inventions. Different people give ideas of different¡­ flavors. That¡¯s what¡¯s so fun about this. The paralyzing ray? You gave me that idea. I used my power on you back at the hospital and it made me think about a big colorful beam that could make things stop moving. That¡¯s what Pencil used on you at the cabin. Then I built an upgraded version here in my home sweet home that lasts longer and hits everyone I want instead of just one person. Once I mix the portable version and the more effective one together, it¡¯s gonna be useful as hell.¡±


    Okay, that was unexpected. I¡¯d set this whole thing up to find out a secret about Pencil¡¯s power, and ended up getting a secret about Cup¡¯s. What the fuck? Her power was¨Cwait a second.


    ¡°That¡¯s how you guys have all those Touched-Tech things,¡± I blurted in surprise. ¡°Everyone thinks you just steal them from others all over the place, but you build them yourself?¡±


    She offered a smirk my way. ¡°Well, some of them. We steal enough that those Techie geeks whine about it, which makes everyone assume that all the toys we have come from that.¡±


    Before I had time to even start processing that, there was a soft groan from nearby. Alloy. ¡°What¨C¡± she started before giving a yelp. ¡°I can¡¯t move! What the¨Cwhy¨Chey!¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry, babe.¡± Cup teasingly called over that way. ¡°Pencil only really cares about punishing these two. We don¡¯t actually need an extra.¡± Her hand moved to push something on the remote. In that second, a gold marble flew out of nowhere, transforming into a baseball bat before slamming into the girl. She was sent colliding into the wall. But not before she managed to hit the button. It wasn¡¯t another paralyzing ray. Instead, three different very lethal-looking gun turret things dropped into view from the ceiling.


    ¡°You¡¯re nuts!¡± I screamed, just as the guns sighted in on Alloy. They made loud humming sounds as they began to charge up to fire some sort of beam that way.


    But That-A-Way was faster. She appeared along with Raindrop right in the middle of the room. While Cup was jolting to her feet and spinning to face the new arrivals, Rain hit her with a massive wave of water powerful enough to send the evil bitch right back into the floor with a squeal of surprise. More importantly, the tidal wave washed across the ceiling, and with a grunt, the younger girl made the entire roof of the building tear itself off. Yes, the entire roof. It ripped its way upward with a scream of protesting metal and a shower of sparks and bits of debris before flying off through the air, taking the turrets with it just as they opened fire.


    By that point, two more turrets had popped out of the floor and were swiveling around to take aim. Fortunately, Way had used that time to throw herself down across the three of us. Her foot touched my waist, she was laying over Pack, and had stretched out her hand just enough for her fingers to brush Alloy¡¯s arm. Raindrop fell backwards on top of her, and I heard Cup scream something in a blind rage.


    Then Way activated her power once more, and we were gone.

 Hostile Witness 18-09 And Patreon Snippets 11

    ¡°Wh-what happened?!¡± Alloy was blurting, clearly in the midst of some level of panic attack. Completely understandable, given the situation she woke up in. ¡°Who¨Cwhere did¨Cwhy can¡¯t I¨C¡±


    I was on my back still, but now I was staring up at trees, and felt a few rocks poking into my back as I lay in the dirt somewhere outside of the petting zoo. Out. Out. We were out. We were safe and fine. Okay, well, not exactly fine just yet, considering I still couldn¡¯t move. And from the sound of Alloy grunting and Pack cursing, neither could they. Which wasn¡¯t surprising, considering it hadn¡¯t been anywhere near the hour that Cup had said it would take for the effects of the ray to wear off. Assuming she had even been telling the truth.


    ¡°Alloy, it¡¯s okay!¡± I called over to her. ¡°We¡¯re out, we¡¯re¡­ safeish. Amanda was Cup¨Cis Cup. But we¡¯re out now. All three of us are paralyzed, but she said it would wear off in like an hour.¡±


    ¡°An hour?!¡± Somehow, Alloy wasn¡¯t too reassured. ¡°Wait¡­¡± Abruptly, I saw her rise to a standing position. But it wasn¡¯t like she stood up, it was more like she floated upward and set herself on her feet. And then abruptly fell down again with a yelp. ¡°Damn it! I¡¯m all¡­ woozy. I think it¡¯s making my marbles woozy too. Can¡¯t focus on staying upright. It¡¯s all dizzy and weird. Like trying to play a video game that keeps inverting the controls.¡±


    Oh yeah, her armor was made out of her marbles, and they could move. But apparently she was still affected enough that it wasn¡¯t working very well. Which¡­ was that what Cup had been referring to when she said that Alloy being knocked out made sense?


    ¡°It¡¯ll be okay,¡± I tried to promise. ¡°It¡¯ll wear off.¡±


    ¡°Right, cuz the psycho supervillain said so,¡± she retorted, ¡°and why are we taking her word for it?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice right now.¡± That was Way, her voice tight. ¡°We still need to get out of here before that bitch calls in reinforcements.¡± Kneeling between us, she looked over to Raindrop. ¡°Stay here with them. Keep an eye out for anyone, I¡¯m gonna go grab the van.¡±


    ¡°Hold on!¡± Pack blurted. ¡°You can¡¯t go back around there by yourself! What the hell do you¨C¡±


    ¡°Pack, stop.¡± Way¡¯s voice was firm. ¡°We don¡¯t have a lot of options right now. This should be far enough away that she can¡¯t find you. But I have to get the van before they do. I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like that. I really didn¡¯t like it at all. But it was like she said, we didn¡¯t have much choice. Pack, however, apparently had other ideas. ¡°Get my backpack off and put my hand in it.¡±


    That-A-Way only hesitated slightly before following her instructions. Lifting Pack up carefully to get the ¡®empty¡¯ pack off her, she unzipped it and placed the other girl¡¯s hand inside. ¡°Okay?¡±


    ¡°Twinkletoes, here boy!¡± Pack called, waiting until she apparently felt the little chameleon against her paralyzed hand. ¡°Okay, boy. You know what to do. You remember, we practiced this. You can do it. Just like back in the parking lot. Okay¡­ now go, get out of the cage!¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡± Raindrop started to speak up before hesitating. ¡°Are you doing what I think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s transformed,¡± Pack replied. ¡°And¡­ just get us to the road. He¡¯ll drive the van down it. At least I think he will. We practiced it for awhile just in case of an emergency. He should be able to follow the road, but I¡¯m not exactly sure how good he is at getting out of the way of other drivers, and I know he doesn¡¯t understand road signs or¡­ yeah, we should get back to the road and keep an eye out. This could get a little messy. Or a lot messy.¡±


    I had seen a lot of weird things since becoming a Touched, but the idea that there was about to be a lizard-gorilla hybrid creature driving a van down the road kind of¡­ reached its way up into the top ten. But again, we didn¡¯t have a lot of options. Pack was clearly desperate to make sure Way didn¡¯t have to go near the petting zoo by herself, and that idea didn¡¯t appeal to me either.


    Now all we had to do was get to the road. Which actually ended up being fairly easy, since Alloy transformed her floating marbles into a couple fancy stretchers for Pack and me. Then she simply used those plus her own armor to make our group float that way. Raindrop and That-A-Way played escorts, keeping their eyes out for any Scion activity, just in case. We had no idea how long it would take Cup to call in reinforcements and whether they¡¯d even go out into the surrounding area searching for us. But it felt better to be safe rather than sorry. We had to get out of there.


    Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t that far to the road. Way could¡¯ve teleported us, but we would¡¯ve been much further north in the process. This was fine. Or at least, I kept telling myself it was. Really, my mind was still spinning wildly from everything we had just found out. Cup. Amanda was Cup. Which meant her brother Nick was Pencil. And something told me he wasn¡¯t actually in Alaska.


    ¡°You know he¡¯s going to be even more pissed at all of us now.¡± Way practically read my mind while we were moving toward the road. ¡°We know too much about him, and the rest of their group. And we hit his sister again. They¡¯re gonna be targeting us any chance they get.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll move her first,¡± I pointed out. ¡°They don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take us to get reinforcements, so they¡¯ll focus on getting her and all her stuff out of there.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of which, shouldn¡¯t we be calling in those reinforcements right about now?¡± Alloy put in. ¡°And who are we calling anyway, the¡­ uhh, ones who call themselves actual heroes or the woman we were supposed to be doing this whole thing for in the first place?¡±


    It really was a good question. We were supposed to let Deicide know what was going on so she could go after Pencil. And I was damn sure she¡¯d want to know about this. But on the other hand, it was also the biggest lead that anyone in the Star-Touched society could possibly have. We had uncovered the identity of Pencil and Cup. That was huge. The authorities could probably do a lot to try to track those two down from knowing who they really were, though I was sure they both knew how to disappear. It was something, a way of potentially stopping them from killing more people, if they were too busy keeping away from the authorities.


    ¡°Both,¡± I abruptly answered. ¡°We¡¯ll let Deicide know what we found out, but we¡¯ll contact the Conservators too. Flea. We¡¯ll contact Flea. And Caishen. We¡¯ll let them both know, let them come check this place out with the cavalry. The more people who know the truth about Pencil and Cup, the better chance of someone tracking them down. Maybe they¡¯ll go on the run.¡±


    If she could have moved, I was sure that Pack would have turned to stare at me with an incredibly dubious look. ¡°You don¡¯t really believe that shit, do you? Seriously, come on.¡±


    I sighed heavily. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But every little bit helps. Like I said, the more people we have going after them, the better off everyone¡¯s going to be. Someone might get lucky. And yes, I know it¡¯s unlikely. But even the slightest chance that someone could maybe stop them is better than nothing. Plus, if they¡¯re busy staying out of reach from the big guns, that¡¯s less time they have to put into making innocent people suffer. It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s all we¡¯ve got right now.¡±


    By that point, our strange little convoy of stretchers and floating armor had reached the road. We stayed low, just on the edge of the treeline in case one of the Scions happened along. Then we waited.


    It wasn¡¯t long before we heard a horn blaring, coming from up the road. Raindrop and Way looked at each other, then leaned out of the trees to stare that way. For about the eighty-seven thousandth time, I wished I could move to see for myself. The sound of the blaring horn got louder, joined by another, then a third. A car that was driving past in the opposite direction joined the chorus a moment later, and I saw it swerve off to the other side of the road.


    ¡°Alloy?¡± I put in over the sound of the horns. ¡°Could you¨C¡±


    She immediately lifted the stretchers and turned them to face the road so we could see. And what a sight it was. The van was heading toward us, swerving in and out of both sides of the street like some sort of incredibly drunk fat man. It wasn¡¯t moving all that fast for a vehicle, barely reaching fifteen miles an hour. But the way it was swerving back and forth, every vehicle from every direction had to get out of the way. Not that there were that many, but still. The few who were there pulled off the road and honked, or just shouted out their windows.


    Raindrop quietly spoke up while she and Way both looked pointedly toward Pack. ¡°I don¡¯t think Twinkletoes should try to get his driver¡¯s license anytime soon.¡±


    ¡°You kidding?¡± the La Casa girl shot right back, ¡°He¡¯s doing better than a lot of the useless pieces of shit I¡¯ve seen on the road back in the city. Look, he¡¯s even signaling. Uh, sort of.¡±


    She was right, particularly about the sort of part. Somehow, Twinkletoes kept flipping the turn signals on and off randomly. It had no connection with which way the car was going, but still. He also kept turning the windshield wipers on and off. I had the feeling he was just randomly hitting things in there. Honestly, we were lucky he had his foot on the pedal and was keeping the van on the road, even if it was taking up the entire road in the process. He was a lizard in a partial gorilla body, so I was going to give the extent of his driving skills a break based on the fact that they existed at all. I had really had no idea that Pack could possibly make her lizards do something like this. It raised even more questions about how smart they were, or how well they could be trained. Questions that were obviously going to have to wait until later. After all, we had slightly more pressing things to deal with right now.


    Pack had Alloy lift her stretcher out into view so the incoming Twinkletoes could see her. He immediately stopped and managed to get his driver¡¯s side door open. Not that we saw much. He was invisible, after all. Yeah, that was another thing throughout all of this. The van had been driving wildly down the road while apparently having no driver. We just saw the door pop open once the van was near enough, and a moment later the gorilla-lizard revealed himself by popping up right in front of Pack while making worried grunting sounds that were kind of adorable and endearing. He kept gesturing to her, then to the van while making those anxious gorilla noises. I honestly wasn¡¯t sure if he was more terrified about what he had just done, or about what was wrong with his owner. Probably some mixture of both, really.


    Oh yeah, and meanwhile, the van was still moving. Yep, the lizard hadn¡¯t actually stopped it at all, let alone put the thing in park. He just opened the door and hopped out. The thing was still heading down the road, already past us and continuing on, coasting entirely off momentum.


    ¡°I¡¯m on it!¡± Way blurted, her figure turning into a blur as she raced out of my sight. I heard the van door close a second later, and then the thing started backing up toward us once more. She parked it right nearby, then hopped out. She and Raindrop opened the backdoors, letting Alloy guide herself and the stretchers into the rear compartment. As soon as we (including Twinkletoes) were in, Way shut the door, hopped in the front, and started to drive off. No way were we going to sit around here talking about things. We need to get somewhere safe.


    Raindrop, meanwhile, stayed in the back with us. As Way was driving, I asked the younger girl to get my phone out of my pocket and use the number for Deicide that I had recorded in it. The phone was still connected through my Bluetooth, so I heard it ring in my ear a few times before the woman¡¯s voice answered. Rather, that same booming feminine voice that was clearly being projected from the books she had nearby. Yeah, she still wasn¡¯t talking in her own voice, even on the phone. So she was doing this whole thing on speaker? I still wasn¡¯t sure why she talked like that. Was she incapable of speaking the normal way? Like, was she mute or something?


    Either way, the voice came through my earbud. ¡°Do you have something for me, Paintball?¡±


    ¡°Oh boy, do I ever,¡± I managed as my eyes reflexively rolled. ¡°First of all, your intelligence is the fucking worst, lady. Also, the fucking best. Both, at the same time. I¡¯m not sure how you pulled that off, but seriously.¡± Yes, I knew it wasn¡¯t her fault, at all. But I had to say something.


    There was a brief pause at my words before her projected voice replied, ¡°Pardon me?¡±


    So, I explained the situation. Very succinctly, I told her about Amanda¡¯s real identity, what had almost happened, and what Amanda¡¯s real power was. Yeah, that last one felt like something that some people might¡¯ve kept a secret or only told the authorities. But fuck it. It was just like I had said, the more people who knew the truth, the more chance there was of actually stopping these guys. It was obvious that one of the biggest reasons Cup and Pencil had managed to stay off the trail of the authorities for so long was because they had no idea that Cup herself was the one building a lot of their Touched-Tech toys. Hell, knowing about that, maybe we could actually convince Braintrust to go after her for not doing her part to contribute to them the way they insisted all Tech-Touched do. Or even convince Sherwood to target them in retaliation for Cup building the devices in the first place, since they hated technology so much.


    Yeah, getting Sherwood and Braintrust to actually work together against the same target. Boy, wouldn¡¯t that be pretty wild. But if any people could inspire such incredibly different enemies to be on the same side, it was definitely Pencil and Cup. Those two never played by any rules. Even the Ministry would obviously be fine with shutting them down. I had no doubt that my parents wanted the entire Scions organization taken out.


    By the time I finished explaining what had happened, my fingers were starting to twitch just a little. It wasn¡¯t much, but I could feel them respond ever so slightly to my desperate orders for them to move. The paralyzation was gradually starting to wear off, though I was pretty sure it would still take awhile for me to be able to do more than make the ends of my fingers bend.


    Deicide was quiet for a moment after I finished. Finally, her voice returned. ¡°That is surprising.¡±


    Right, so apparently another of her superpowers was incredible understatements. ¡°Yeah, tell me about it. You asked us to find this Amanda chick and tell you what she knows. We found her and¡­ well, I think you can safely say we told you what she knows. Deal¡¯s done, we¡¯re even.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± came the response immediately. ¡°Your favor is repaid in full. You have done more than I could have expected.¡± There was a brief pause before she added, ¡°I am¡­ very sorry for sending you into that danger, Paintball. It was never my intention. If I had had the slightest inkling that you would have run into that sort of trouble, I never would have made that the favor.¡±


    She obviously didn¡¯t have to apologize. But I appreciated it anyway. Taking a breath while coaxing my fingers to wiggle a little more, I replied, ¡°Thanks. We¡¯re safe enough now, anyway. And umm, and we¡¯re calling the authorities too. They need to know the truth about those two.¡±


    Part of me expected the woman to argue against that. Instead, she replied, ¡°Give me the address. I can be there before the authorities. I¡¯ll do my own examination and leave before they get there. I can¡­¡± She hesitated. ¡°I can find out everything I need without moving anything.¡±


    Part of me felt slightly uncomfortable about that, but on the other hand, it wasn¡¯t like I could object to sending a bad guy there, considering I was going to be doing the same thing when we contacted the Conservators. Okay, okay, I didn¡¯t actually know that any of them beyond my own dad were actually bad. But still, the whole situation was incredibly gray. I might as well let Deicide do her own investigation on top of the one the authorities would do.


    With that in mind, I gave her the exact address about where she could find the petting zoo with Amanda¡¯s apartment. That earned me a look from Raindrop, but she remained silent.


    ¡°Got it,¡± Deicide replied. ¡°I will be there shortly. You may feel free to contact the authorities. And Paintball¡­ thank you.¡±


    If I could have shrugged, I would have. ¡°Yeah, well, we might be really different people, but I think we can all agree, ¡®fuck those two and their little gang in particular.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± she confirmed before adding, ¡°though someday you may find that we are not quite as different as you believe.¡± There was something important behind those words, but I couldn¡¯t read enough into what it was before she simply finished with, ¡°I will see you another time, Paintball. With any luck, it will not be on the battlefield. I would hate to be faced with you.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Well, that was a little surprising. I expected her to say something like she would be sad to have to kill me. Before I could respond to her actual words, she disconnected the call. I was officially done with my favor to Deicide.


    Even better than that, when I finished telling the others that it was done, I was able to close my hand into a fist and then open it again. I could also make my toes twitch. The paralyzation was definitely wearing off. Which, thank God Cup had actually been telling the truth about that. There¡¯d been a small nightmare working in the back of my head about it being either permanent, or needing some kind of exterior cure to turn it off. But, thankfully, it really was temporary.


    ¡°So what now?¡± Alloy put in. I could barely see enough of her hand from this position to tell that she was doing the same thing as me, closing and opening a fist. ¡°We call in the authorities and tell them where to descend to rain righteous legal hell on that place and look for clues?¡±


    ¡°How do we explain what we were doing there?¡± Way put in carefully.


    I had been thinking about that this whole time, and finally exhaled heavily. ¡°I think the best thing we can do is just say that Alloy and me were investigating something independently, and we called you for help, Way. You were out with Raindrop, so you guys came to see what was going on.¡±


    ¡°Without calling anyone else?¡± Raindrop put in. ¡°If we were going anywhere near the Scions¨C¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t know it was actually the Scions,¡± Alloy pointed out. ¡°None of us did.¡±


    I agreed quickly. ¡°That¡¯s a good point. It¡¯s the truth. We really didn¡¯t know they were going to be there, only that it was a lead that might not pan out at all. We just tell the truth, as far as that goes. We looked into it and called you guys for help talking to who we thought was just a normal witness just in case she might respond better to someone from the official hero teams.¡±


    Way hesitated slightly before shifting around in the front seat to look back at us through the window while still driving. ¡°Yeah, I think we can deal with that. How¡¯re you guys doing with that whole moving thing?¡±


    In answer, I slowly moved my head from the left, then to the right. It was almost painfully stiff, but I managed it. ¡°Getting there. Call Flea and get the Conservators there. I¡¯ll get hold of Ten Towers as soon as I can move my hand a little more.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll¨C¡± Way started, just before the van abruptly jerked violently, almost skidding sideways off the road. All of us in the back were thrown to the floor.


    ¡°Dude, what the hell?!¡± Pack blurted.


    Way was looking at the side mirror, her voice tight. ¡°Hang on, guys. That was some sort of¨C¡± She suddenly spun the wheel, sending the van to the left just as a high pitched whine of something shooting past us on the right filled the air. ¡°It¡¯s Cup! And some others. They¡¯re in a car and¨C¡± She spun the wheel back the opposite way to avoid another shot.


    Right, apparently we weren¡¯t quite done with that whole escaping from the Scions thing. But hey, maybe if I was lucky, I¡¯d manage to get myself fully unparalyzed before they killed all of us.


    Patreon Snippets 11


    Arleigh


    January 16th, two months before the start of the story.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Arleigh Fosters pushed her way through a crowd that had gathered around the bottom of the long cement staircase in the outside courtyard of Cadillac Preparatory School. ¡°Move, damn it.¡± There were too many people in the way, making the tall blonde growl under her breath in frustration. She grabbed the nearest guy by the elbow, making him turn to her. ¡°What the hell is going on? Someone said Cassidy Evans was out here.¡± And god, she better be. If Arleigh had to go back home yet again and tell her dad she hadn¡¯t had any luck getting close to the Evans kid¡­


    The guy shrugged and nodded. ¡°Sure, she¡¯s right over there.¡± He stepped aside a bit, raising a hand to point over at the top of the long set of cement steps.


    The sound of wheels clacking rapidly across the cracks between concrete squares grew louder, as Arleigh looked that way just in time to see the girl in question. Cassidy Evans, daughter of the richest and most powerful (in more than one way) people in Michigan, reached the top of the stairs on her skateboard before grunting as she jumped the board up and turned so that it landed sideways on the metal railing running down the middle of the steps. With that, arms held high above her head, she rode the board all the way down to the bottom, jumped it before the very end, flipped the board over three hundred and sixty degrees in the air, then landed smoothly on the wheels before rolling to a stop. As the assembled students who had been watching cheered, she stepped off the board and popped it up into her hand before grinning as she took a bow.


    ¡°Thank you, thank you,¡± the obscenely wealthy girl called out before focusing on one guy in particular, a senior who had been watching with folded arms. She held a hand out. ¡°From the entrance all the way down the walk and off the railing. Isn¡¯t that what you said would prove I wasn¡¯t a poser? Now uhh, I think we bet something, didn¡¯t we? Right, right, for me, it was a hundred bucks. For you, it was¡­ what was it again?¡±


    ¡°You know what, Evans?¡± The guy was practically baring his teeth as he snarled, ¡°You¡¯re just lucky you¨C¡±


    Taking that as her cue, Arleigh immediately stepped that way, putting one arm around the other girl as if they were BFFs. ¡°Hey now, if you made a bet, you better honor it,¡± she informed the boy while wagging a finger at him. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t wanna be known as a welcher, would you?¡±


    The boy looked as though he wanted to argue, but finally just sighed and reached into his pocket before pulling out a pair of tickets, thrusting them out. ¡°Fucking take ¡¯em, whatever.¡±


    As he stalked off and the crowd started to disperse, Arleigh saw that the tickets Cassidy had taken hold of were for a concert the next night. Pretty good seats too. Perfect. This was perfect. If she went to a concert with the Evans girl, her dad would stop being such an asshole about making friends with her.


    ¡°Oh hey, if you¡¯re going to that concert, I could¨C¡±


    Cassidy, however, was already slipping out from under the arm that Arleigh had slung over her shoulders. ¡°Nah,¡± she dismissively replied, holding the tickets out to some other girl, a sophomore. ¡°Val¡¯s the one who won them, Greg just convinced her he¡¯d date her if she went to the concert with him.¡±


    The girl in question gave a relieved nod as she clutched the tickets to her chest. ¡°But as soon as I let him hold them ¡®for safe keeping¡¯, he broke up with me and pretended he didn¡¯t know anything about it. When I pushed it, he said they were payment for¡­ looking at my ugly face.¡± She cringed. ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell my dad, he¡¯d think I was just so stupid.¡±


    Arleigh¡¯s mouth opened to tell the girl she was stupid for falling for something like that. But Val spoke again, addressing Cassidy. ¡°Hey, maybe we could go together, since I don¡¯t have anyone else to use this ticket for?¡±


    Stupid or not, the girl had just given her the opening she needed, and Arleigh immediately took it. ¡°Yeah, I can get a ticket too and we could all go together. I could drive, so you don¡¯t have to arrange anything. We could even go to dinner first.¡± Perfect, this whole thing was pe¨C


    ¡°No thanks,¡± Cassidy infuriatingly replied with a shrug. ¡°Hey, you two should go together. Have fun.¡± She turned without another word, heading off with the skateboard tucked under one arm.


    God damn it! Arleigh fumed, watching the girl leave. Beside her, Val started to say something about arranging a place to meet tomorrow, but the older girl simply turned to stalk away without another word. Then she pivoted back, grabbed one of the tickets, and replied, ¡°Five o¡¯clock, front of the school right over there. Don¡¯t be late.¡±


    Then she stalked off, ticket in hand. What the fuck was wrong with Evans? She was friendly enough, she stuck up for people she could have been much more popular than she was, even before you counted the whole rich thing. And she was¡­ popular enough as far as school went. Some people liked her, some didn¡¯t. She just¡­ she had school ¡®friends.¡¯ As far as Arleigh had been able to figure out in the past several months since her father had started on this whole ¡®make friends with the Evans girl¡¯ kick, Cassidy didn¡¯t have anyone from school who was actually close to her. She hung out in groups, she went to games and movies and stuff with other people, but there was no one she actually confided in or spent time with alone.


    ¡°What the fuck is her problem?¡± Arleigh muttered to herself while mentally rehearsing what she was going to say to her father.


    Needless to say¡­ she was going to be glad to get out of the house tomorrow night.


    *********


    Plan Z


    Jania Estrada, the sixty-six-year-old Panamanian woman who had worked as a maid in the Evans household for eighteen years, was humming to herself while running the vacuum back and forth across the carpet in one of the dens downstairs. More accurately, she was humming along with music playing through a single earbud. The music, humming, and vacuuming all stopped when a single buzz from the phone in her pocket informed the woman that she had a message. She turned off the vacuum and checked what had been sent to her, reading the message twice before leaving the vacuum where it was, pivoting to walk out of the room. Exchanging greetings with a couple other staff members, she made her way to the kitchen, where Chef Claudio and his two assistants were preparing lunch for the employees.


    The moment she stepped into the room, the three of them looked up. Claudio started to say something about when their food would be ready, but Jania pointed to one of his assistants. ¡°Christiana,¡± she announced while holding up her phone. ¡°Mrs. Evans would like to have a few things picked up from the grocery store.¡±


    Christiana Diaz, a quite thin, young Latina woman with dark hair that was cut very short on the sides with a mop of curls on top, set down the knife she had been chopping with and politely excused herself before heading to the door. The two of them stepped away together, leaving the sounds of Claudio and Ethan picking up the pace in chopping vegetables.


    ¡°Aunt Jania,¡± Christiana started once they were alone in the corridor. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Seeing the two walk side-by-side, it was easy to notice the family resemblance in their faces, specifically their eyes and around their always-smiling mouths. Christiana was smaller than her aunt, standing only an inch over five feet. That, combined with her general youthful looks and hairstyle, made her appear to be closer to the end of her teens, rather than the twenty-seven she actually was. Or the twenty-two the rest of the household believed her to be, in her job as Claudio¡¯s assistant.


    Not that that was her only job within the Evans household.


    In response to the question, Jania held up the phone for her to see. Indeed, it was a message from Elena Evans, asking her to send Christiana to the store to pick up a list of items. Anyone who glanced at the message would see nothing untoward about it. Certainly, they wouldn¡¯t see the code buried in the list. Christiana, however, read the code as well as she read plain English. Or Spanish, for that matter. Her finger traced over a few key points, making certain she had translated it correctly. Then she took her aunt¡¯s phone and sent back an answering response. To an outside observer, it would appear to be simply querying what prices were acceptable and if specific substitutes were okay, just in case. In actuality, the response included a separate code, which essentially repeated the gist of the assignment so that Elena could inform her if she had translated incorrectly or misunderstood anything.


    But no, as usual, she was spot on. The confirmation came back a moment later, and Christiana nodded to her aunt, passing the phone back to her. ¡°Tell Claudio I¡¯ll be back as soon as I run the errand,¡± she remarked, before turning on her heel, heading for the side door that led to the small employee parking lot, hidden out of sight from the front of the house for aesthetics.


    Fifteen minutes later, Christiana parked a car in the underground lot of an office building. It wasn¡¯t her car, but rather one she had borrowed from a grocery store several blocks away. No one would see her own car anywhere near this building. Rather than step out immediately, she took out her own phone, texting a totally different number from the one that Elena had used to contact Aunt Jania. Mrs. Evans¡¯ rules. They divided these instructions and responses between multiple phones to make it even harder for anything to be traced back or decoded. The message she sent simply read, ¡®You awake?¡¯ After a few seconds, Elena sent back an emoji of a man in a business suit. Which was the last confirmation. Unless Elena sent a message to stop her, it was time to go.


    Tucking the phone away, Christiana focused for a moment. Her body shifted, transforming into a dark, mist-like shadow. Looking straight at her in this form, people would see only a pitch-black humanoid shape with a simplified face that would be impossible to recognize as anyone specific. She was clearly female, yet that was the only specific feature that could be determined.


    Stepping out of the car without opening the door, simply passing through the solid material, Christiana looked up while focusing once more. Her humanoid form shifted slightly, becoming even more of a shadow than a person, a human-sized bit of darkness. A moment later her shadow-form flew through the ceiling and into the building proper. She was in a corner of the main lobby, yet no one noticed. Anyone who looked that way would only see a notably darker section of the room, as if something nearby was casting a dark shadow there. And these people were too busy rushing back and forth to the elevators or the street to notice something like that.


    After making certain she hadn¡¯t been noticed, Christiana moved even closer to the far corner of the lobby and continued her way upward. Floating higher, she passed through the ceiling and into what turned out to be a restroom on the second floor. Yet she didn¡¯t stop there. One by one, she passed floor after floor, counting them to herself as she went. Finally, on the eleventh floor, she stopped. This too was a restroom, and she made her way forward through it, a barely visible shadow fog heading for the door. It opened just as she reached it, her dark figure hidden behind the door itself as a man walked right past on his way to the urinal.


    Christiana walked through the door as it closed, looking both ways in the corridor. People rushed every which way, calling out requests or questions from their cubicles while phones rang and managers worked to keep it all organized. They paid no attention to the dark shadow moving through the room. She was intangible, practically invisible, and they were distracted.


    On her way, however, she heard one man in particular snarling some very untoward things toward his clearly junior, female employee. The poor girl sat huddled in her seat, drawn in on herself while the man hissed hateful things about how terrible she was at her job as well as how useless she was in plenty of other aspects of life. He also made sure to mention at least three times that he was about to have a very important meeting with a couple of the vice presidents and if this girl knew what was good for her, she¡¯d get him those files right now. Listening to him for only a few seconds, Christiana could tell exactly what he was. She knew his type far too well. Lording his power and authority over others, he knew the girl he was attacking here had self-confidence issues and reveled in his ability to make her miserable.


    Her job could wait for a moment. Turning to face the man, a simple shadow against the wall of the cubicle, she reared back before giving him a hard shove as hard as she could.


    He gave no reaction, of course, as her intangible hands passed through him. That was, he gave no reaction yet. Turning, Christiana stepped out of direct sight, waiting for the man to lead her back to his own small office along one side of the room. While he stopped in the doorway to say something to another middle manager, Christiana found the mug of coffee on his desk and gave it a simple push with one finger near the top. Again, there was no physical response, as her finger simply passed through. Then she swept her arm across the desk, through all the little knick knacks, before shoving both hands into the computer monitor. Finally, she turned and kicked the trash can next to the desk as hard as she could, aiming for the doorway. As always, none of these actions had any effect.


    By that point, the man had moved into the office and took a seat at his desk, clearly antsy as he waited for that important meeting. He kept glancing up at the doorway, leg bouncing anxiously.


    Standing in the corner of the room where her shadow shape would be all-but entirely invisible, Christiana watched as well. She saw the way the man¡¯s eyes lit up when two older guys in much nicer suits began to approach. This was it, his meeting. He reached down, taking up his mug for one last sip.


    And that was when Christiana set to work. Focusing on the mug, she triggered the action she had used on it. When she had shoved her finger against the brim, nothing had happened. Now the mug reacted to that previous action, tipping over while he was sipping in order to spill all across the front of his shirt.


    While the man yelped and cursed at that, she triggered the response to her arm sweeping across the desk. All those little bits and pieces, the mug of pens, the stapler, the pristine and polished nameplate, everything went flying off to the side. A second later, she triggered the action on the computer monitor, sending that off to slam into the wall with a crash.


    By that point, the man had bolted upright, his eyes wide. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± He shouted those words just as the two higher-ups came into the doorway. And in that moment, Christiana triggered both the shove into the man¡¯s back and the kick against the trash can. Simultaneously, the man staggered forward while the can itself was sent flying over, literally smacking into one of their heads.


    And then it was done. The man was left standing there beside his desk where he had stumbled, monitor broken against the nearby wall, random junk from his desk scattered across the floor, while his trash can had just hit one of his bosses in the face. From the fresh stain on his shirt, it would appear to those men as though he had spilled his own coffee and violently overreacted. Even the stumble forward from being pushed combined with the flying trash can looked like he had lunged that way to kick it.


    With a small smirk, Christiana stepped backward through the wall into another office, leaving the man to explain that whole situation while the yelling started.


    Satisfied with her own moment of justice, she moved through several more offices, finding the one she was looking for. A heavyset, very tall man sat at the desk there, reading through a few files. Christiana took the time to ensure that this was the right man, before holding one hand out as she stood behind him. A thought made a knife appear, while she solidified herself into a more humanoid form. Then she gave a low whistle.


    The man jolted, turning to face her. As soon as he did, Christiana stabbed the knife into his throat. He yelped, jerking backward before falling to the floor. But, of course, the knife had done nothing. Not yet, anyway.


    ¡°Do you know who I am?¡± she asked, standing there over the suddenly terrified man while he clutched his perfectly-fine throat.


    ¡°Y-you¡­ you work for them. Z. They call you Z,¡± he stammered.


    ¡°Plan Z, to be completely accurate,¡± she informed him. ¡°Then you know how this works. They¡¯ve asked you for the files twice. This is the third time. The last time. You have one hour. Deliver the files, then they will call me and tell me to call it off. If I don¡¯t get that call by that point, I will trigger the effect. Your throat will be slit. If you go to the cops, I will trigger the effect. If you tell anyone, I will trigger the effect. No one else can save you, no one else can stop it. Nobody. If I trigger that knife I just put in your throat, you will die. Deliver the files and you¡¯ll be fine. You have fifty-eight minutes now. Do you understand?¡±


    He tried to plead with her, and she simply repeated, ¡°Do you understand? Fifty-seven minutes and forty seconds. If I was you, I would hurry.¡±


    That was all it took. The man lunged to his feet, blubbering a bit as he bolted for the door while saying something about getting the files out of storage. Christiana watched him go, then simply turned and stepped through the nearby wall, floating down along the outside of the building before reaching the street. There, she made her way back to her own car where it was parked several blocks away, resumed her normal form, and took out a different phone out of the glove box to text to yet a third phone number, ¡®Got the tickets, you still wanna go to the game?¡¯


    ¡®Let me check with the old lady¡¯ came the response.


    And there it was. Christiana only had to wait now. If the response came back affirmative, that the supposed person at the other end of the line was allowed to go to the game, it meant their target had delivered the files as instructed and she could cancel the knife attack. But if it came back negative, that the ¡®old lady¡¯ had denied them, it meant he had not followed instructions. In which case¡­ he wouldn¡¯t be making any other decisions again.


    Reaching out, Christiana turned on the car to listen to music.


    And then she waited.

 Hostile Witness 18-10

    Well, so much for being free and clear. Just when I¡¯d actually dared to think that we had gotten away from that whole¡­ situation with the Scions, everything immediately blew up again. We were being chased in the van and shot at. Cup was there, along with who knew how many others. Way was stuck driving, not daring to slow down at all, and Raindrop kept peeking out the back window, calling out warnings whenever it looked like they were about to fire. Her warnings made Way spin the wheel one way or the other, sending the van skidding across the road.


    Sometimes, she couldn¡¯t avoid the shots. Either there wasn¡¯t room or time. But that was where Alloy came in. She had her marbles flying along behind the van, alternately transforming into various walls or shields to block the hits that Way couldn¡¯t evade. Alloy couldn¡¯t see enough to direct them for that, of course. But they were doing a pretty good job on their own just from the instructions to ¡®protect the van.¡¯ Which raised even more questions about how independent they were, not that I was going to get into that right now.


    Either way, between Raindrop calling out when to evade, and Alloy¡¯s marbles shielding the shots that she couldn¡¯t get away from, we were avoiding the worst of what the Scions were throwing at us. But I had no idea how long that could continue. If we didn¡¯t do something else fast, something was going to get through. Worse, if Way lost control of the van and we had to face the Scions in a straight fight¡­  yeah, I didn¡¯t see that ending well. Especially considering the fact that three of us were still mostly paralyzed.


    Speaking of which, we were desperately trying to speed along our recovery so we could actually help. We could fairly regularly move our fingers, hands, and toes, but it was still not enough. Well, not unless the Scions wanted to settle this whole thing with a good old-fashioned thumb wrestling match. I was pretty sure I could win one of those. But then again, something told me Cup would find a way to cheat even at that, and I¡¯d end up without a thumb at all.


    Oh, and we couldn¡¯t call for help either. Yeah, we¡¯d tried that, and the calls weren¡¯t going through anymore. Not since I¡¯d hung up with Deicide. Clearly, Cup was using something to block it. Probably her own invention, since she was apparently a fucking Tech-touched!


    ¡°Hold on!¡± Way called back once more, just before the van jolted violently. It felt like we were running over the pockmarked dirt along the side of the road itself. The whole vehicle threatened to spin out of control, but she managed to keep it going mostly straight, cursing out loud. ¡°Fucking¨C Box is back there, he keeps making rock walls appear in front of us!¡±


    Box, right. He was the guy who made those glowing orbs and could throw them before they turned into variously shaped and sized portions of fire, wind, water, or, in this case, earth. So at least two of the Fell-Touched for the Scions were back in that car chasing us. And I didn¡¯t think we were lucky enough for them to be the only ones. Especially not today. Nothing was lucky about today. Well, unless we actually managed to get out of here with that information about Cup and Pencil¡¯s true identities, and her real power. That would be pretty lucky.


    Even as I had that thought, my arm rose. Slowly and a bit jerkily, but it rose right up in front of my face. Move. I could move even more than before. The paralyzation was wearing off faster. ¡°Come on, come on,¡± I murmured to myself, bending and unbending the arm. It felt like an extreme version of having a limb ¡®fall asleep.¡¯ The numbness was incredibly weird.


    Come to think of it, I suddenly realized that I wasn¡¯t completely helpless here, numbness be damned. Pushing my hand against the floor beneath me, I focused on spreading green paint through the vehicle. I couldn¡¯t paint the whole thing, of course. I didn¡¯t have enough paint or the right position. But I could help a bit. I could contribute, damn it.


    ¡°Tell me when you need a green speed boost!¡± I shouted toward the front while slowly shaking out my other arm. From this position, I couldn¡¯t see where we were on the road, what was ahead of us, or anything else. I was going to have to rely on Way for all that.


    Thankfully, she realized what I was talking about immediately. ¡°Not yet!¡± the girl called. ¡°Wait¡­ wait¡­¡± She spun the wheel once more, the metal and wheels both squealing in protest. ¡°Now!¡±


    So, I triggered the boost right then. Immediately, the van lurched to about twice its usual speed. I could hear the squealing of the tires as we shot forward, pulling a decent bit ahead of the car behind us. It gave our group a little bit of very desperately needed breathing room.


    Unfortunately, it was still just a van, and the Scion car was faster. Whether that was simply a normal fact, or one helped by Cup tinkering with their car, I had no idea. Either way, they were still hot on our heels. I boosted the van now and then, but there was only so much I could do. There was only so much any of us could do. We were still a long distance from the rest of the city and from any help. Unless Deicide happened to pass us on her way to the petting zoo, and again, we weren¡¯t that lucky. No, we were on our own here. We just¡­ had to survive.


    ¡°Way!¡± Raindrop called. ¡°Go straight for three seconds when I say!¡± She was peering out the small window, one hand on the handle. After a moment, she called, ¡°Left!¡± Way spun the wheel that direction, and I caught the barest glimpse of a glowing energy beam shoot past the window on the right side as Cup took another shot. It was so close, the van shook from whatever kinetic force the beam was carrying with it. Which was fucking weird to begin with.


    The instant the shot went past, Raindrop shouted, ¡°Hold steady!¡± She glared out that back window, focusing while pointing with her free hand. I heard the rush of water go flying that way, before the girl cursed. Which was still strange to hear coming from her. She quickly jerked back while blurting, ¡°Right!¡± Which sent the van sliding across the road that direction just in time to miss another shot.


    ¡°Shield,¡± Raindrop informed us while still clutching the side of the van to keep herself upright. ¡°They¡¯ve got some kind of forcefield around the car, I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t get it wet! I can¡¯t move it, I can¡¯t do anything!¡± Her voice was frantic, clearly freaking out a bit. Not that I could blame her. We were all freaking out. There had to be a way out of here, had to be a way to escape from those psycho fucks. God damn it, why wouldn¡¯t my arms move properly so I could do something?! Straining as hard as I could, I managed to make them bend a little faster. The paralyzation was wearing off, but not nearly quickly enough. The most I could do was keep randomly speeding the van up, which helped a bit, but wasn¡¯t enough to keep us away from those assholes for long. It didn¡¯t even help us pull far enough away to make a phone call, damn it!


    With that rush of anger, I suddenly realized that I was sitting up. Alloy and Pack both managed to turn their heads my way, but I was the one in a seated position. Clearly Cup had overestimated how long her paralyzing ray would work. ¡°I can move,¡± I murmured, before my eyes widened. ¡°I can move.¡± Everything was still numb, of course. but I was mobile. Definitely not in the right shape to start a fight with the guys chasing us, and yet the thrill of adrenaline from realizing I could move had brought something else to mind. I knew where we were. I knew where we were. And that meant¨C


    Twisting over onto my hands and knees, I crawled to the back, next to Raindrop. There, I crouched by the door and braced myself. ¡°Way!¡± I called up, ¡°get ready to shift to the passenger side!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± she shouted back at me. ¡°Why the hell would I¨C¡±


    But I was already moving. Shoving the back door open, I saw the car racing up from behind us. Sure enough, Cup and Box were there, along with a handful of other Scion lackeys. My hand extended, shooting a burst of yellow paint at the road just as we passed, before activating it. The Scion car abruptly slowed to half its normal speed, and I immediately swung myself out, using red paint to yank myself up against the side of the van while calling for Raindrop to shut the door.


    There I was, crouched sideways against the van, as we raced at like seventy miles an hour along the road. Another quick shot of red yanked me to the front, and I opened the driver¡¯s side door while blurting, ¡°Over, over!¡±


    To her credit, That-A-Way did exactly that, throwing herself into the passenger seat while I landed where she had been, my foot finding its way to the accelerator before we slowed much. ¡°What¡¯re you doing?!¡± the other girl shouted while quickly belting herself in.


    ¡°Tell me the thirteen-year-old isn¡¯t driving,¡± Pack snapped from the back. ¡°I said, tell me the thirteen-year-old isn¡¯t driving!¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I replied, glancing at the screen on the dash that showed a view behind us through a camera on the bumper, ¡°the thirteen-year-old isn¡¯t driving.


    ¡°He¡¯s flying.¡±


    With that, I abruptly spun the wheel hard to the right with one hand while touching the edge of the dash with my other. An orange arrow appeared there, extending out over the hood. I activated it just as the van hit a small incline on the side of the road and, with the engine roaring, went airborne a good six or seven feet, slamming into and through a tree that was in its way. Behind me and beside me, I could hear the others screaming.


    The van was now running perpendicular to the street, racing across the wilderness. Scattered trees surrounded us, and I twisted the wheel sharply once to avoid a big one. It came close enough that the branches scraped loudly along the passenger side. Behind us, I could see the Scion car coming right back into view.


    ¡°Paintball, get back on the road!¡± Way shouted. ¡°Get back on the road, get back on the road!¡±


    ¡°Road?¡± I quoted, ¡°Where we¡¯re going, we don¡¯t need roads.¡±


    ¡°We need roads!¡± That was Alloy, her voice a frantic scream. ¡°We definitely need roads!¡±


    But I wasn¡¯t listening. Instead, I reached up, clipping the seatbelt into place. The van was cruising along the weed-filled ground, bouncing violently from each slight dip and bump. In the rear camera, the Scions were coming up fast. Once in awhile, they fired off a shot that was intercepted by one of the marbles keeping pace with us.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Way managed with a tight, worried voice, ¡°I don¡¯t know where you think you¡¯re goaaaaaaahhhhh!¡± The scream was because we had just hit a bush, passing straight through it before the van dropped like¡­ three feet to crash hard on a dirt path that had been packed hard by thousands of tires running over it.


    ¡°Hah!¡± I crowed, twisting the wheel sharply to the left to send the van twisting ninety-degrees that way, narrowly avoiding a heavy boulder that had been directly ahead of us. ¡°I knew this was the right area!¡±


    Suddenly, the van was driving along a narrow ¡®road¡¯ (such as it was), with thick trees and rocks lining both sides. It was barely wide enough for the van, and full of dips and hills. We were on a dirt bike track that ran through the forest out here. I¡¯d gone riding a bunch of times. Even broke my arm once.


    Hopefully this time went better.


    Of course, this wasn¡¯t an ordinary, circular track. The whole thing ran for miles and miles throughout the wilderness, with multiple ways to go, several figure eights, intersections where you had to choose which direction to take, even a couple parts where the track was raised into a bridge that ran over one of the lower parts. It was basically the best dirt bike track in the entire state


    On the other hand, it was built for dirt bikes, not for a van (or the car following us). The poor vehicle was taking a definite pounding as I floored the gas and sent the van flying along the track, gaining air repeatedly with each hill I launched it over, before coming down hard and violently shaking everyone around. The only reason it stayed together as much as it did was the orange marks I kept repeatedly painting along it whenever possible.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Way was saying something, the others were shouting from the back, and I ignored all of it. My focus was on pushing the van as hard and as fast as it would go. We were flying along the track, straight toward a T-intersection. Ahead, past the edge of that intersection, was an enormous tree that would have turned the van into a pile of scrap parts if we hit it. At the last second, with Way screaming in my ear, I snapped the wheel to the left while activating just a bit of yellow paint that I had sent through the vehicle. It slowed us enough to make that turn, skidding to the left. Instantly, I threw the wheel to the right, sending the van sliding along the sudden opposite turn that came within a few dozen feet of the intersection.


    Behind us, the Scion car had to skid to a complete stop, backing up and then turning to get back on track. It was clearly faster and more maneuverable than we were. So, if we were going to lose them, I was just going to have to get creative.


    Getting creative, in this case, meant flooring the accelerator and trusting the mix of my memory, reflexes, and that weird, unexplained extra sense I had to get us through the track without completely destroying the van and killing all of us in the process.


    So, that¡¯s what I did. I let myself go and just¡­ trusted. The van¡¯s engine screamed as I sent the vehicle rocketing down the track. There was a curve to the left coming up. I knew it. I couldn¡¯t see it, but I knew it. At the exact right moment, I twisted the wheel. Left¨Cnow right, sharp right. Straight for four seconds, jerk the wheel right to avoid the deep pothole in the dirt, clip the trees there, it¡¯s alright they don¡¯t have any big branches. Left or straight here, but go straight because the left went to a dead end. Tree on the ground, veer left and boost to hit that little dirt ramp enough to clear it. Not fast enough. Green paint, boost now! Ignore the screams as the van went airborne. Orange paint for protection, then a hard right once the van hit the ground¨Cno, count to two first, then turn. Slam! One¡­ two¨Cturn! Count to four then shift to the left enough to avoid the sharp boulder sticking out of the nearby overhang. Can¡¯t turn sooner or you¡¯ll hit the deep ditch on that side. One, two, three, four¨Ctwist left!


    Drive straight three seconds, turn left again. Four more seconds, twist right. Accelerate as hard as possible and use the green boost for a dirt ramp up ahead, then twist left. Right, right, straight, left, straight, right, straight, left, straightrightrightstraightleftstraightrightstraight!


    Though all that, the Scion car kept falling further and further behind. I was pretty sure I could hear Cup screaming in rage, as she fired off a few useless shots that came nowhere near us, but did manage to knock down some trees. We were pulling ahead. But that wouldn¡¯t last. As soon as we were back in open ground, they would catch up. Their car was more sustainably faster. I could boost for short periods, but they had the speed to catch us. We couldn¡¯t just drive in circles along this track forever. We had to do something else.


    Luckily, I had a plan for that.


    ¡°Alloy!¡± I called toward the back even as I followed my power¡¯s direction and snapped the wheel to the right to send the van in a long skid, applying the brakes at the exact right moment. ¡°Can you combine your marbles into one big shield against the back of the van to take a handful of shots so we can go straight for a bit?!¡±


    There was a brief pause before the other girl replied in a tight voice, ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t know how long they¡¯ll last that way! Whatever she¡¯s shooting at us, it¡¯s got a lot of freaking power!¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t have to be long,¡± I insisted. ¡°Just do it when I tell you. Rain, when she does that, soak our car.¡±


    ¡°Our car?¡± Raindrop echoed, clearly confused about what I was planning. Thankfully, she trusted me, belatedly calling out an agreement.


    Hands gripping the wheel tightly, I focused on taking us through three more sharp, sudden turns. ¡°Soak the whole van, all of it. And when I tell you¡­ make us float for as long as you can. Just keep us from falling, okay? Keep the van in the air.¡± Even while saying that, I kept one hand on the dashboard and focused on spreading as much green paint as I could, mixed with just enough orange to hopefully hold the thing together when it had to. I was really draining the bottom of the barrel with this one. I was pretty sure I¡¯d be tapped out after this. At least for a minute or two. And that was basically an eternity in a situation like this. But that was okay. We were going to need the speed, and it was now or never.


    ¡°Alloy, be ready to shield. Raindrop, soak and float on my mark!¡±


    Then, with a sharp right turn, we hit the straightaway. ¡°Shield, Alloy! Full shield!¡± I shouted as we bounced along. ¡°Just hold them off for a few seconds! Raindrop, soak it, soak the whole thing and be ready!¡±


    The other two followed my instructions. Summoned water soaked the whole vehicle thoroughly, like driving through a monsoon.  Behind us, I could hear the shots from our insistent friends rebounding off the marble shields as they immediately took advantage of the straight line of sight they finally had.


    ¡°Can¡¯t take very much more of that shit!¡± Alloy shouted a bit tensely after five or six of the blasts had struck her shield. ¡°Whatever that bitch is shooting at us, it¡¯s really fucking strong!¡±


    ¡°Just a little further!¡± I insisted, flooring the pedal as hard as I could. Still, I didn¡¯t activate the green paint. Not yet. Even without the boost, we were careening down that incredibly narrow dirt track. Branches from trees on either side were scraping along the edge of the van, and smacking the windows as we shot down the path. Behind us, the Scions were clearly keeping pace, given the sound of gunfire and the repeated bangs from their car bouncing through the holes. At least they were having just as rough of a ride as we were. Not that that was too much of a consolation, given the whole situation, but still.


    Just when I thought I might have underestimated how far we needed to go, I saw the target up ahead. In that instant, I triggered all the green paint I¡¯d managed to put over the van, and we rocketed forward. The ride, of course, got even bumpier. We had been going a good sixty miles an hour down that track. Now we were going over a hundred. The van¡¯s body, shocks, every part of it screamed in protest. I was pretty sure the rest of us were screaming too. The others and me. I gripped the wheel so tight I felt like it was going to snap off in my hands. Still, I kept it steady, fighting the van¡¯s attempts to jerk from one side to the other. With shots from the Scions still rebounding off the shields or flying off to either side, we were fucking flying down that path. Metaphorically, of course.


    And then it suddenly wasn¡¯t as metaphorical. With one last scream toward the others to hang on, I sent the van right through the spot I had been pointing us toward. We hit a bit of dirt at the end there, and suddenly we were airborne. Like before with the ramps, but this was no ramp. No, I had just launched the van off the edge of a fucking cliff. The ground was a good hundred feet or so below us.


    ¡°Rain, float, float, keep us up!¡± I screamed as soon as we hit the apex of the jump.


    I could hear the grunt of effort from the younger girl as she did just that, focusing on keeping the van in the air with the gravity part of her power while we continued to shoot forward. Glancing through the nearby window, I saw a ravine far, far below us with barely a trickle of water running through it. Beside me, Way made a weak little whimpering sound as she looked out her own side.


    It only lasted for five or six seconds, but those felt like an eternity. Then I called back, ¡°Lower us down, down!¡± At the same time, I activated the orange paint to keep the whole van from falling apart around us on impact.


    The van dropped a bit, gradually of course. A moment later, there was a violent jolt as we hit the ground once more. Or rather, as we hit the road once more. An actual road, with pavement and everything. Yeah, almost directly opposite that corner of the dirt track, there was the highway we had been driving on before. It curved around a hill at this point, with that sharp dropoff to one side that was blocked by a heavy metal guard rail. Some sort-of friends and I used to bike up to that little spot and sit there watching cars around that slow curve. A couple guys had made morbid comments about what it would be like if a car missed that turn, slammed through the guard rail, and went off into the ravine below. Which was why it had stuck in my head.


    As soon as the van hit the road, I twisted the wheel and pumped the brakes, making the tires squeal horribly as we left a bunch of rubber across the road. The vehicle spun out of control, going around once, twice, then a third time before finally skidding to a halt.


    A few brief seconds of silence followed while all of us went through a mental checklist to make sure we were in one piece before Pack found her voice. ¡°What¡­ the fuck¡­ was that?¡±


    ¡°That,¡± I informed them while using a violently shaking hand to shift the van back into drive and pull away once more, ¡°was us getting the hell away from those guys. It¡¯s like a fifteen minute drive the old fashioned way, just to get from the overlook to where we are now.¡±


    While the others coped with that, I picked up speed. The van was shuddering a bit, clearly not in the best of shape. But it kept going.


    ¡°So, uhh, what do you guys say we wait til the coast is clear, then go back and do it again?¡± I offered, half-jokingly. Okay, maybe a quarter-jokingly. ¡°You know, when we can enjoy it.¡±


    A slight pain filled my shoulder as Way punched me there.


    ¡°Ow,¡± I muttered, ¡°you could¡¯ve just said no thanks, you know.¡± With that, I exhaled long and low. ¡°Is everyone okay? We all in one piece?¡±


    Over the next couple of minutes, everyone agreed that they were okay and were starting to be able to move. I held the steering wheel tight and let out another shaky breath. ¡°Okay, okay. We¡¯re okay.¡± Saying it out loud helped me convince myself that it was true. After the terror of the past few minutes, which itself had been preceded by a few minutes of calm that had followed another long stretch of terror when we had found out the truth about Amanda, part of me was expecting another rush of adrenaline-filled panic any moment now. What was next, Cup and her people showing up in a fucking homemade helicopter? Hell, it didn¡¯t even have to be homemade. For all we knew, they could steal one.


    But no, things stayed quiet. And within another couple minutes, we had driven far enough to see busier traffic on the freeway just ahead. The on-ramp was just waiting for us.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Way spoke up from the passenger side, her eyes on me. ¡°Can you use any more paint? We need a disguise, just in case.¡±


    It took me a few seconds, but I managed to pull the van off to the side and stopped for a minute. Way hopped out and came around to the driver¡¯s side to help me down on shaky, uncertain feet, and I got my first good look at the exterior of the van. It was pretty trashed. There were dents and scrapes in it from the rocks and trees, the paint job was basically destroyed, the wheels weren¡¯t going to last much longer, it was¡­ yeah.


    Still, I managed to paint the whole thing red, sort of covering up the damage of it and making it a different color just in case Cup or any of the other Scions had sent word ahead to watch for us. It wasn¡¯t much, but it would maybe help a little.


    ¡°Are we good?¡± That was Alloy, the girl standing behind us, hand pressed against the side of the van. ¡°Please tell me we¡¯re good. I don¡¯t think I can¡­ umm, I don¡¯t want to do any of that again anytime soon.¡± She was trying to play it off lightly, but I could hear the trepidation in her voice. She was scared, obviously. And who could blame her?


    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Way confirmed. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get back on the freeway. I¡¯ll call Flea and we can tell her what happened. Or, you know, our version of it. Oh, and I¡¯ll drive this time.¡±


    ¡°Go for it,¡± I replied, my voice cracking just a little as I made my way toward the back once more. ¡°I think I¡­ I need to lay down for a minute.¡±


    She moved back to the front to drive, even as Pack shakily stepped down and started up to the passenger seat. Meanwhile, I looked to Alloy, swallowing hard. There was a lot I wanted to say to her, a lot I just¡­ didn¡¯t know how to say or if I even should. In the end, all I managed was a somewhat weak, ¡°Thanks for being here. You¨Cif it wasn¡¯t for your help, we¡­ umm¡­¡±


    Shaking her head before putting out a hand to grab my shoulder so I would stop talking, Alloy interrupted, ¡°That was pretty fucking scary, Paintball. It wasn¡¯t just me. It was¨Cnone of us would¡¯ve made it without the others. If That-A-Way wasn¡¯t there, or Pack, or Raindrop, any of them, if any of us weren¡¯t there, the others wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve made it. We¡¯d be¡­ they¡¯d be¡­¡± She swallowed hard, clearly thinking about being back with Cup, given the woman¡¯s reputation.


    Yeah, it was probably a bad idea to dwell on those thoughts. Quickly, I gave her a little push toward the back door of the van. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get out of here and back to civilization.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± shouted Pack from the front, ¡°let¡¯s go before we have to have another chase scene! Everyone knows having two of those right next to each other is super-redundant and boring.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I managed to retort in a flat voice, ¡°the last thing we want to do is be boring. Heaven forbid. Guess we better get going.¡±


    So, the two of us climbed up into the back once more to join the thoroughly exhausted Raindrop. We shut the door, and Way began to drive again. In a moment, we were in the midst of freeway traffic, while she made the call to Flea and, in as few words as possible, told her a bit of what was going on and that we needed to meet her along the way. Needless to say, she had a lot of questions. But she agreed to talk about it in person, which¡­ yeah, that was gonna be fun.


    Once we arranged a place to meet (at a nearby old motel along the freeway that was undergoing renovations), Way disconnected the call, before pulling off at the next exit. We weren¡¯t quite to the motel itself yet, but close enough. She parked behind a fast food joint, near a large drainage ditch. There, the rest of us hopped out, leaving Pack in the van with her lizards.


    ¡°Right, wish I could say it¡¯s been fun,¡± the girl informed us after shifting over into the driver¡¯s seat, ¡°but, you know.¡± She coughed pointedly. ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell Blackjack what happened. And the truth about those fucks.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I informed her, still a bit wobbly on my legs. But hey, at least I could actually (mostly) stand. ¡°The more people who know, the better. Hunt those evil fucks down.¡±


    She gave me a thumbs up, shuddered a little, then began to drive away. From the way the van was protesting, I was pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t get much further. Hopefully at least enough to get the other girl somewhere safe.


    Which left me standing in the parking lot with That-A-Way, Raindrop, and Alloy. ¡°Right,¡± I announced, clapping my hands together once before nearly falling over. ¡°Let¡¯s go meet Flea then.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to explain this whole thing.¡±

 Interlude 18A - Flea

    Irelyn Banners was having a very frustrating day. She had set several hours aside to track down the actual location of her parents and adopted sister, and none of her attempts were panning out. As far as anyone in authority was concerned, her family had simply gone on vacation over in Europe. After all, it wasn¡¯t as though Aaron and Constance Banners going off on a retreat without much in the way of notice was exactly unusual. They did it all the time. If anything, the fact that they had supposedly taken Paige with them was the only part that stood out at all.


    Unfortunately, ¡®my parents are being too nice to their adopted daughter¡¯ wasn¡¯t the sort of slam dunk proof the cops, or even other Star-Touched groups, were looking for. Especially when it was coming from someone who had been disowned by those same parents. She just looked like someone was jealous, even if that was wildly incorrect. But she could see why they would come to that conclusion, unfortunately.


    She could potentially have forced the issue by appearing as Flea and telling the authorities to look into it, but that would mean potentially exposing her identity to far more people than she was comfortable with. The bar to become a member of the police force was far too low for Irelyn to risk handing out that sort of information willy-nilly. To say nothing of how easily one of the local Fell-gangs could bribe them. No, worried as she was, that would be a bad idea.


    So, she was looking into the situation herself, without police help. Or official help, anyway. She still had contacts in the force who didn¡¯t mind doing her a favor or two without asking too many questions. Unfortunately, none of that was actually leading anywhere. The only thing she had been able to confirm was that her parents¡¯ private plane did take off with a flight plan for London on Paige¡¯s birthday. It had not returned, and the exact number of passengers wasn¡¯t clear. After that single point, there was nothing. Her parents and sister had gone completely off the grid, as far as she could tell. At least, from here. She was seriously getting to the point of requesting a sabbatical from her duties on the Conservators in order to take her own trip over there. She would start at the plane itself and find something about where the hell they had gone.


    Maybe she was overreacting to this whole situation. But Irelyn couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something very bad was going on. She needed to know they were all okay. Yes, she had her problems with her parents. Especially her father, demanding as he was. His reaction to her choosing to forge her own path rather than stay on as his dutiful daughter and use her powers in their own private security company had been to disown her entirely and go adopt a new daughter altogether, one he clearly felt that he could forge into the proper puppet he wanted.


    Irelyn didn¡¯t blame Paige for that, of course. There was¡­ there was a lot she had always wanted to say to her adopted sister, but it never really came out right. She had the feeling that Paige thought she was, at the very best, just going through the motions. Or worse, that she actually blamed Paige for the way her¨Ctheir parents had turned their backs on Irelyn. Which could not have been further from the truth. She really wanted to explain that, wanted to get Paige to understand that not only did she not blame her for any of what happened between her and their parents, but that she would be there for her if she ever needed to talk about her own situation. She wanted Paige to know that she wasn¡¯t alone, that she could talk to her if she needed to, considering Irelyn knew exactly what it was like to be put under the kind of pressure Aaron Banners was capable of.


    Unfortunately, she was pretty sure that every attempt she had made at such bonding had been interpreted as attempts to remind Paige that she had been their parents¡¯ daughter first. Her intention, of course, had been to make sure the younger girl knew that Irelyn sympathized with any problems she might have, and was there if she wanted to talk. But she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that Paige had instead taken it as some sort of, ¡®I was their daughter first, not you¡¯ warning. Which was a big part of why Irelyn had wanted to take the girl out for her birthday to begin with. She wanted to set the record straight. Now that Paige was seventeen and almost a senior in high school, it was more important than ever that she understand that she didn¡¯t have to be the person their father wanted her to be, that she could make her own choices. More than anything, Irelyn wanted the girl to know that she didn¡¯t have to be an obedient little puppet.


    In any case, all of that came down to the fact that they were far from the best examples of a family. But she still needed to know that they were okay. If all of this was for nothing and the three of them really had gone on a private vacation to celebrate Paige¡¯s birthday, then so be it. But she needed to know for certain. And so far, nothing she found out was actually adding up.


    At the moment, she was just leaving the tower of the private airfield where her family¡¯s plane had taken off from with them (supposedly) aboard, when her phone buzzed. She glanced to it, seeing That-A-Way¡¯s name pop up. Huh. What could that girl need? As far as Irelyn knew, she wasn¡¯t on duty at the moment. Still, it could have been important, so she stopped beside her car and lifted the phone to her ear. ¡°Yes?¡± Her phone was already programmed to alter her voice appropriately whenever she was speaking to someone from her Touched contacts, or simply by pressing a button.


    ¡°Flea,¡± came the quick, clearly somewhat uncertain response. ¡°Um, oh boy. We need to talk.¡±


    Immediately setting aside her personal feelings about finding her family at the sound of the younger girl¡¯s voice, Irelyn opened the door of her car and got in. ¡°Way, what¡¯s wrong? Are you in trouble?¡±


    ¡°Just got out of it, actually,¡± Way informed her. ¡°At least, out of the worst of it.¡± With that, she gave an incredibly brief explanation of what she, Raindrop, and that independent Star-Touched, Paintball (and his new partner), had been up to. A very brief, pseudo-explanation. Apparently they¡¯d located the actual home of Cup, exposed her secret identity and that of Pencil himself, narrowly escaped being captured or killed for that, and were on their way back into the city.


    There was clearly a hell of a lot more to that whole story. That-A-Way had ¡®explained¡¯ in as few words as possible, just enough to make sure Flea understood the gravity of what was going on. And boy did she ever. All thoughts of finding her missing family fled for the moment, as she considered just how the Scions of Typhon would react to their leaders¡¯ identities being exposed. They would not be happy, to say the very least. And they would act fast to disappear and destroy every single potential link to wherever they might go. To say nothing of what they would do to any civilians who might even consider accidentally being in their way.


    As soon as she understood what was happening, and just what was at stake, Irelyn immediately gave the other girl an address to meet at so they could talk in person. But not before she took the address of where Cup was supposed to live. Which was apparently some petting zoo ten miles outside of town. The moment she knew that much, Irelyn told Way to meet her at an old motel that was being worked on, and disconnected. Then she started her car and peeled out while making a call of her own. That one was to Silversmith. He was on a hiatus for the week, something to do with personal matters. But this was more important than a vacation.


    On her way out of the parking lot, while listening to the phone ring, Irelyn pressed the button under the dash that made the flashing red and blue lights appear around her car¡¯s regular headlights, as well as an actual siren. It made her vehicle look like an unmarked police cruiser, which was very useful for getting places faster. She even had identification referring to herself as such if she were ever pulled over, and would be listed within the official police database for anyone looking her up. All benefits of being part of the Conservators. And, of course, one of the reasons she was capable of investigating her parents¡¯ disappearance with any degree of success at all rather than being laughed out of the room. She may not have been able to call in official police assistance, but she could use her own false connection to them in order to get some answers.


    And right now, she could use it to force traffic out of the way so that she could get to that motel as fast as possible. Even if she did have to lean on the horn to convince some asshole in a truck to take the siren seriously. ¡°Come on,¡± Irelyn muttered in annoyance as the phone rang again. ¡°Pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up.¡±


    Finally, Silversmith did just that. There was a click and she heard his voice speak calmly. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Just like that, he knew something had happened.


    ¡°Smith, you need to organize a group to check out this petting zoo,¡± Irelyn immediately informed him. Using even fewer words than That-A-Way had, she informed him of what those four had been up to, and what they had found out. ¡°You need to get a team out there to stop the Scions from destroying everything. You know what they¡¯ll do to any civilians in the way. And be ready for Touched-Tech defenses.¡±


    Smith didn¡¯t even question any of it. Instead, he immediately agreed, ¡°I¡¯ll have a group there ASAP. I take it you¡¯re meeting with our little friends to get more information?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Irelyn confirmed while taking a sharp turn through an intersection, cutting off a couple annoyed drivers in the process. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in six minutes, and let you know about any other relevant details.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± he replied simply. ¡°Make sure they¡¯re all okay, and check them for traps or tricks the Scions might¡¯ve left, just in case. Silversmith out.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    With that, the man disconnected, leaving Irelyn driving as fast as possible toward the motel. She just hoped he and the group he pulled together could get to Cup¡¯s place before the Scions wiped the place off the map. And that she could get some real information out of the trio she was going to meet. Because to be quite honest, she didn¡¯t believe for a second that there wasn¡¯t more to that story. They had not tripped over the true identity of the Scion leadership by accident. Something else was definitely going on, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.


    On the way, while practically flooring the pedal, Irelyn reached out to open the nearby compartment between the driver and passenger seats. There was an affirmative beep as the pad there read her fingerprints before the thing opened. Nestled inside was what appeared to be a single piece of her costume, the metal, samurai-like mask with mandible protrusions in the front. With a quick glance around to assure herself no one was close enough to her vehicle to see through the already-heavily tinted windows, Irelyn touched the mask to her face. As she did so, the mask extended with a series of rapid clicks and the sound of sliding metal. Soon, it had transformed into a full samurai helmet, covering her head entirely. Once it was in place, she glanced instinctively toward the rear view mirror. As always, the distinct look of Asian eyes visible between the top of the plate covering the bottom three-quarters of her face, and the helmet itself, was a little surprising. The truth was, Irelyn was only about a quarter-Asian. Her mother¡¯s mother was Japanese. Irelyn herself bore almost no physical resemblance, having taken heavily after her father in appearance (and her mother didn¡¯t look all that like her own mother to begin with). At a glance, very little about the woman¡¯s appearance gave any hint of her heritage. But with the rest of her face covered and only her eyes visible, the slight Asian features were isolated and exaggerated enough that anyone looking at her would picture someone very different under the costume.


    With the helmet on, Irelyn checked the road once more. She was two minutes from the on-ramp that would lead to the motel. A quick tap of a button on the steering column put the car into auto-drive, allowing it to follow the road toward her selected destination in the GPS. At the same time, the driver¡¯s seat slid backward while the rear seat folded up. It gave Irelyn room to grab the rest of her costume from a hidden compartment in the floor and change clothes.


    Once she was dressed properly, the seat slid forward once more, and the woman took the wheel, turning the car to head through a nearby alley. The moment it was out of sight from the street, she touched a different control under the dash. This one shifted the car¡¯s color from red to black, deactivated the lights, and changed the licence plate. Between those changes and a couple other minor cosmetic ones, it was a very different-looking vehicle that came out the other side of the L-shaped alley. From there, she pointed the car toward the onramp and made her way those last couple minutes toward the motel, taking that exit and sending the car practically screaming through the empty (save for a few construction vehicles and a lot of safety cones) parking lot.


    Stopping the car, the newly-dressed Flea stepped out and looked around. Her eyes were immediately drawn to an arrow that had been graffitied on the wall of the nearby building. It was big and blue, with the quite well-done image of her own helmet next to it just to make sure she noticed. The arrow pointed toward a space between the main office structure and one of the buildings with the various suites. There were vending machines and a narrow pathway with a gate. Next to the gate was a sign, indicating it was the way to the pool.


    Her eyes narrowed, but she could hardly fault them for being careful, given the situation. Still, she wasn¡¯t allergic to being careful either. Rather than walk through the gate, Flea took a step before leaping upward. The lunge carried her to the top of the four-story building, before she paced along the edge of the roof looking down.


    Abruptly, the woman had to stop, finding herself face to face with what appeared to be a bronze sword floating in midair right in front of her.


    ¡°Stop! Stop, stop, stop!¡± The frantic voice came from above, and Flea glanced that way to see a figure come gliding in on top of a literal silver surfboard. A part of her wondered if that was intentional, but she set it aside to focus on the figure itself. Or herself, rather. The girl gliding down on the flying board wore metallic purple armor with white across the arms and up into a full helmet. It was a different look than either of the costumes that girl had been reported as wearing before, but it was obvious who she was.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, he was just trying to protect me¨Cus,¡± the girl hurriedly babbled, even as the bronze sword went floating over to her. It was joined by a black mace and a gold shield.


    ¡°You¡¯re Paintball¡¯s new friend,¡± Flea noted coolly. ¡°Different look today?¡±


    ¡°Alloy,¡± the girl informed her before stammering, ¡°a-and umm, sort of. I¡¯m playing lookout and we thought maybe if I looked different anyone the Scions had out looking for us might not immediately recognize me, you know?¡± She was clearly blushing underneath that helmet, adding, ¡°I know it¡¯s not likely, but every little bit helps.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Flea agreed, ¡°every little bit helps. And I¡¯m glad you were on the ball.¡± Her eyes glanced toward the floating bronze sword before she added, ¡°As was your friend there.¡±


    Was it just her imagination, or did that sword find a way to preen?


    Shaking that off, the woman focused on the situation. ¡°Where are the others? Are they¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re fine.¡± Way herself had suddenly appeared next to them, one hand on Paintball¡¯s arm and the other on Raindrop¡¯s as she brought the younger boy and girl with. ¡°We¡¯re all fine. Mostly.¡±


    Forgetting everything else for a moment, Flea stepped that way and put one hand on Way¡¯s shoulder and the other on Raindrop¡¯s. ¡°You¡¯re safe? You¡¯re not hurt?¡± Her head turned slightly to look toward Paintball and Alloy. ¡°You¡¯re all safe?¡±


    There was a series of nods from all of them. Even in costume, they looked exhausted and like¡­ well, like they had just discovered Cup and Pencil¡¯s true identities and barely escaped with their lives. They were clearly jumpy, turning to look sharply at the sound of a semi passing on the distant freeway.


    ¡°Good,¡± Flea informed them. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re safe, that you¡¯re not hurt.¡± She squeezed That-A-Way and Raindrop¡¯s shoulders, wanting to embrace them but unsure of how that would be taken. Instead, she let them go and took one step back while clearing her throat pointedly. Her gaze slid over each of the group in turn, making sure they were all paying attention. ¡°Now tell me exactly what happened back there. I need to know the full story.¡±


    ¡°Um, not to object about that,¡± Paintball tentatively put in, ¡°but are you sure you don¡¯t want to, you know, go check out the petting zoo itself?¡±


    ¡°Silversmith and some others are doing that,¡± Flea informed him. The boy seemed to recoil a bit at that news, and she immediately assured him, ¡°They¡¯ll be fine. Smith knows how to be careful. They won¡¯t go blundering into any Touched-Tech traps or anything. Believe me, they¡¯re the best group for the job.¡±


    That said, she turned her attention  back to the rest of the group. ¡°But, I still need to know exactly what happened with all of you. Cup and the others aren¡¯t stupid enough to hang around there. Our best chance at tracking them down is to hope our people got there soon enough to pick through any evidence that was left behind. And give their identities to all law enforcement so it¡¯s harder for them to hide anywhere. Which is happening right now. But in the meantime, I need to know what happened, and how you ended up in that situation.¡±


    Paintball did most of the talking. He told her about the deal he had made with Deicide of all people, in order to get the vial back to save Blackjack¡¯s child. Flea had¡­ opinions about that, but she could hardly fault him for being willing to do risky things and make deals with bad people to save a child.


    In any case, the boy went on to tell Flea all about how the deal had been to find this Amanda girl as a witness to one of Pencil¡¯s first murders, with the idea that she might know more about him. And boy did she ever. When Paintball and Alloy (accompanied by That-A-Way and Raindrop for backup) had tracked down Amanda, she turned out to be Cup herself. Not only that, but she revealed the truth about her power, that she was the one who kept building those Touched-Tech toys for Pencil. And, in fact, that it was one of those very toys that allowed her to paralyze Paintball and Alloy while they were talking to her, before That-A-Way and Raindrop interceded, grabbed them, and escaped in a van they had borrowed. Well, started to escape. That had led to a rousing car chase.


    ¡°And here we are,¡± Paintball finally finished. ¡°So what¡¯s going to happen with Cup now?¡±


    ¡°Now, we¡¯ll do our best to track her and her brother down,¡± Flea replied simply. ¡°Knowing who they really are under those masks, having their true identities, faces, all that, it¡¯s¡­¡± She exhaled. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty damn big break. To say nothing of finding out what her real power is. They¡¯ve managed to keep that secret for a long time. It¡¯s a big deal. But you were all still incredibly reckless. Do you have any idea what those psychopaths would¡¯ve done if you didn¡¯t¨Cif they managed to¨C¡± Her voice rose. ¡°Don¡¯t ever do that again, do you understand? Not just you two,¡± she noted with a glance to Way and Raindrop before turning her attention to Paintball and Alloy. ¡°But you two as well. You might not be part of the Minority, but I can damn well make your life difficult if you keep running around doing dangerous things like that. And pulling these two into it.¡±


    Raindrop started to say something, but Flea raised a hand to stop her. ¡°I get it. I do. You all did something incredibly important today. But it was also incredibly dangerous, and if it had gone wrong, you all could¡¯ve¨C¡± She cut herself off, taking a deep breath to avoid going into a long rant that wouldn¡¯t have helped anything. ¡°Just call for help next time. Adult help. If you¡¯d taken one of us with you, there might¨Cwe might have been able to¡­¡± God, she didn¡¯t want to say that. If she told them taking an adult with them might¡¯ve led to Cup being arrested, they¡¯d blame themselves for any further deaths. Biting her tongue, Flea simply ended with, ¡°Be smart about it, okay?¡±


    Raindrop hesitantly asked, ¡°Are they going to tell everyone who Cup and Pencil really are? I mean, everyone?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be informing every registered Star-Touched team in the state immediately,¡± Flea confirmed. ¡°They¡¯ll be on the lookout. And certain higher levels of law enforcement as well. As for the rest¡­¡± She paused before explaining. ¡°That¡¯s up to a judge. How much of a Fell-Touched¡¯s identity is revealed to the public in a situation like this is determined by a judge at the time, based on a lot of factors. The danger they pose, the potential for rehabilitation, extenuating circumstances, any previous aid they¡¯ve been, and so on. In this case, I think it¡¯s safe to say everyone will know who they are by the end of the day. But it¡¯s not our place to make that decision.¡±


    That all said, Flea added, ¡°Now, I want all four of you to go home. You¡¯ve done your part. I mean it, if I see you out working again today, I will find a way to slap you into a private detention cell for the rest of the night. Go get some rest.


    ¡°God knows, you¡¯ve earned it.¡±

 Non-Canon 9 - Irelyn And Paige

    ¡°Miss?¡± The gentle voice from the elderly librarian in the doorway of the private conference room startled Irelyn Banners. ¡°Are you alright? Can I get you anything? I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just¡­ you have been staring at that table for ten minutes now, and you seem¡­ bothered. Do you need help?¡±


    Blinking rapidly, Irelyn looked at the stacks of files that had been scattered across the table in front of her. The paper trail. The proof of what she had already known, but needed to see for herself. The evidence of something so absurd it felt like she had fallen into the Twilight Zone.


    Swallowing hard, Irelyn shook her head. Her voice was flat. ¡°No, thank you. I¡¯m leaving now.¡± With that, she started gathering up her things, hurriedly shoving the files into a nearby leather bag before starting out of the room. The librarian stopped her and handed over a card that had the name and number for both a lawyer and an abuse hotline. Oh God, he thought she was in that kind of trouble. Was that how he had interpreted the look on her face as she sat there?


    Not wanting to discourage the man from reaching out to others who might actually need that help, she simply thanked him and made her way out of the library. Her mind was still spinning from the implications and ramifications from everything she had found out.


    It had all started several days earlier, when Irelyn visited her father¡¯s office at the building he owned downtown. Despite how much time she had spent there as a child and teen, the woman barely ever went there now, ever since the falling out she''d had with her family as an adult. Still, she had a question about one of her medical records for work, and her mother wasn¡¯t answering. So she had gone in and headed upstairs, knowing her father would be working through lunch. Sure enough, his secretary hadn¡¯t been there, so she simply walked through the outer office and raised a hand to knock on the very slightly open door. But the sound of her father¡¯s voice from within had stopped her.


    She hadn''t actually meant to eavesdrop, not really. Hearing her father''s voice had just made her stop in case he was on the phone. She had been about to walk away to wait on the other side of the room, when the man spoke her name, talking about how she had betrayed him by not staying with the family and yada yada. Yeah, she¡¯d heard it all before.


    What she had not heard before was what came next. What she had not heard, until she was standing there outside the office, was what her father had actually done about her supposedly abandoning him. But she heard it then. Standing by that door, she heard him talk about what he had done. And with each word, Irelyn had felt herself grow colder and more shocked. With each word her father spoke to whoever he was talking to, she felt a sort of anger rise in her that she didn¡¯t even know she was capable of.


    The urge to confront him right then had been huge. But she had suppressed it. It wouldn''t have accomplished anything at all, other than getting the man to cover his tracks even more. Quickly, Irelyn left the office, though not before stopping at the secretary¡¯s computer to pull up some information. She had listened to her father''s voice to make sure he was still on the phone while using the computer to check on where his physical records from the right year were kept.


    They weren''t in the building, but were kept at a separate facility elsewhere. It had taken a couple days for Irelyn to find her way there, breaking the law to get inside and take the files she needed. The files that would confirm what she had overheard. Breaking in was, of course, pretty bad. But she couldn¡¯t go through official channels. Aaron Banners would simply shut that down and destroy the evidence the second he caught any whiff of a warrant.


    But now she had the files. She had the photographs and the paperwork and everything else. And she didn¡¯t feel any better than she had before. She felt sick. She felt¡­ confused.


    Paige. Her adopted little sister, the girl she had tried to get close to but failed repeatedly, was¡­ was artificial. No, artificial wasn¡¯t the right word, exactly. She wasn¡¯t a normal human. She had been created, built. Her consciousness came from a computer program of sorts, a cybernetic orb that was placed inside of a manufactured biological body. It was just¡­ hearing her father talk about how he had bought Paige, how he expected her programming to be adjusted to adequately replace his ¡®real¡¯ daughter once she was legally able to be seen as an adult, had enraged her to the point of almost kicking his door in. It had been so hard to resist that urge. And now it was even harder. She had the evidence. Her father had kept records of the payments to some shell company, along with transcripts of the conversations they¡¯d had, and more. They weren¡¯t stupid enough to outright say what was going on, but it was easy enough to read between the lines once you knew what to look for. Paige was an ¡®asset¡¯, among other similar terms. They talked about her programming, about obedience-checks, payments in both cash and supply form to be sent to some sort of drop-off point, limitations, and so forth.


    With the bag held over one shoulder, Irelyn made her way from the library to the parking lot where her car was waiting. There, she simply sat and gripped the steering wheel tightly. Fuck. Fuck, what was she going to do now? She still had no idea who had created Paige, given how vague the files were. There was talk within their deal about how her creator retained overall authority over her programming up until her seventeenth birthday, which would be in a couple weeks. Her creator had retained authority over her programming until that time, while their parents would be given all the command codes they needed to adjust that programming once the day came. Irelyn had no idea why the person behind selling Paige had insisted on waiting until her seventeenth birthday to hand over all the controls, but it was written into their contract.


    Now that birthday was only a couple weeks away. When it came, their father would be able to tinker with Paige as much as he wanted to. He would have all the power he needed to mold her into the perfect, obedient heir to his company. He would change her to be what he wanted, the way he hadn¡¯t been able to change Irelyn.


    Both of the woman¡¯s fists slammed into the steering wheel hard, a shouted curse escaping her before she started the car and left a bit of rubber on the pavement while peeling out of the lot. She had to do something, had to go somewhere and¡­ and¡­ fix this, somehow. Yet even as she accelerated around another car, she had no real idea how she was going to do that. It wasn''t until she was several minutes into the drive that Irelyn consciously realized where she was going. And yet, could the answer really have been a surprise? It was the only place she could think of going right then. Particularly when she glanced to the clock and saw what time it was.


    Pulling up outside of Cadillac Preparatory School, Irelyn drummed her fingers along the steering wheel indecisively for a few moments before giving a firm nod as she took the turn into the lot. There, she found a spot and began to wait half an hour until the classes let out. About five minutes into that, one of the security people came by to check on what she was doing, and she told him she was there a bit early to pick up her sister when she came out, showing him her identification. He thanked her, made a note of it, and headed off again. Which left Irelyn to wait another twenty-five minutes. Her mind raced through a lot of possibilities through that time. What she could do, what she could say, how she could bring it up or if doing so was the right idea. Nothing seemed right, and she kept second-guessing herself after every thought.


    In the end, as students began to emerge, she still hadn¡¯t made a decision. And there was Paige, already coming out within a group of other people. They were all talking and laughing, and as Irelyn watched from the car, she still couldn¡¯t tell that there was anything¡­ different about her.


    But of course there wouldn¡¯t be, would there? Paige would seem the same as she always had, because nothing about her had changed. She had always been this¡­ person. She was still a person. She was still Paige. Irelyn had known her for five years now, since the girl was twelve. The idea that her body was artificial, that her mind and personality came from the computer orb somewhere in that artificial body, all of it was just¡­


    Shaking that off, Irelyn hit the button to lower the window, calling out. ¡°Paige!¡± When the girl looked that way, along with several others, she raised a hand. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡±


    There was a brief pause as Paige stared at her, before saying something to her friends. Then she approached, her tone neutral. ¡°Irelyn, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Oh boy. What was going on? There were a lot of possible answers to that, most of which would be a bad idea to get into right then. Instead, Irelyn simply gestured to the seat beside her. ¡°It¡¯s been awhile, thought we could go get some ice cream. Come on, I¡¯ll bring you back for your car after.¡± After what was the question, and it was one that she didn¡¯t have an answer to.


    Paige looked uncertain, a slight frown touching her face. For a moment, it looked like she was going to object. But in the end, the girl simply shrugged. ¡°I mean, I guess. You do know I¡¯m not twelve anymore, right? You don¡¯t have to take me out for ice cream. I¡¯m perfectly capable of getting it myself.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I know where the best place is,¡± Irelyn retorted reflexively. ¡°Now get in already.¡± It was so hard not to stare at the girl, so difficult to avoid giving away what she knew. Logically, she knew there was no difference between Paige now and over the past five years. And yet¡­ yeah, it was hard. And this was with years of experience hiding things from people. If she hadn¡¯t had that, it would¡¯ve been impossible. As it was, it took everything she had simply to look like this was just any other day. Her showing up to take Paige out wasn¡¯t unheard of, thankfully. But she had the impression the other girl basically saw it as her fulfilling some unspoken obligation.


    Finally, Paige walked around the car and got in the other side, stopping to say something to a guy that was passing. Then she shut the door and buckled up before looking over. ¡°Good ice cream, huh?¡±


    ¡°The best,¡± Irelyn corrected before shifting into drive. She pulled away, still trying to decide for certain what she was going to say. To avoid silence, she asked, ¡°So how¡¯s school going right now? You excited to be a senior next year?¡± Mundane talk, but it filled the air and gave her a bit more time to think. As if she hadn¡¯t had enough already. As if a minute or two in the car with Paige would give her any more solutions than the past several days had, or all the time in the library today, or the drive over to the school, or the half hour she had sat there waiting. All that time, all of it, and she still didn¡¯t know what to do or say. What would another minute add to that?


    ¡°Did you have another fight with your father?¡± Paige interrupted her thoughts, looking that way.


    Of course the girl would think that was why Irelyn was here. She¡¯d done it before, had another blowup with Dad and then intentionally taken Paige out. She meant it as a way of showing the girl that she didn¡¯t hold her complicated relationship with their parents against her. Which--


    ¡°Our father,¡± Irelyn found herself automatically correcting. Just like she did every other time the subject came up. It was just like normal, just like almost every conversation they¡¯d had, when Paige would make a point of referring to their parents as Irelyn¡¯s parents, and Irelyn would, in turn, correct her. It was almost a ritual between them.


    For so long, ever since she had first heard their father talking about the truth, Irelyn had been at a loss for how to actually address the girl in question. She had spent hours and days agonizing over the right thing to say. No matter what she thought of, it all seemed inadequate and wrong. Yet now, sitting here like this with that single automatic correction, the same that had come every other time Paige referred to their father as only Irelyn¡¯s, the answer was as immediate as it was simple. All that time trying to think of the perfect thing to say, and when it came down to it, there was only one real way to go.


    ¡°I know the truth,¡± the woman abruptly spoke, like tearing off a Band-Aid. She was still driving, gaze centered on the road, though she could see the girl from the corner of her eye. ¡°I heard Dad talking on the phone, and checked his secretary¡¯s computer. He still doesn¡¯t understand that her system is linked to his and can get to any file he can if she knows what to look for. Dad and tech, huh?¡± There was a thick lump in her throat, her hands tight on the wheel. ¡°Yeah, Dad and tech. Then he went and¡­. bought you.¡± The last words came in a quiet murmur.


    There was a long moment of silence after that. She could see and feel the girl staring at her while she took a right turn at an intersection. There was no visible emotion on her face, only that same silent, calculating staring.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ odd,¡± Paige finally spoke. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to kill you.¡±


    ¡°Because of the programming to keep the truth about yourself a secret and to eliminate any threat to that?¡± Irelyn shifted a bit, turning her gaze to the girl while hitting the button to activate the auto-drive. Normally, she only did that when she needed to change into her costume for work, or to focus on a call from another Conservator that required direct attention. But this was a special case. She turned to look straight at Paige. ¡°I looked through all the details I could find. The rule about not harming family is a higher priority than the one about protecting your secret. Family is considered an exception to the secret rule, because we¡¯re supposed to know about it. I took an educated guess that Dad and¡­ and the person who sold you didn¡¯t bother programming a specific exception for me. I''m considered family, so I fit under that exception umbrella.¡±


    Paige¡¯s voice turned somewhat incredulous. ¡°You took an educated guess and risked your life? What if you had been wrong? What if you weren¡¯t protected?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I was always protected,¡± Irelyn assured her. ¡°Try to jerk yourself toward me. Lash out, do anything like you''re going to hit me. Go on, it''s okay.¡±


    There was a brief pause at that, before Paige very abruptly did so. Her hand snapped out so quickly Irelyn didn¡¯t have the slightest chance to react.


    But the computer did. Before Paige¡¯s fist could cross half the distance between them, even with her incredible speed, a pair of cords snapped out of the seat on either side of her, caught the girl¡¯s wrists, and yanked them down to her sides. The cords were durable enough to prevent even a minor to low-moderate amount of enhanced strength from being able to snap them.


    ¡°Defensive measures built into the car,¡± Irelyn informed her. ¡°For when I¡¯m transporting potentially dangerous passengers. The computer watches you through three different hidden cameras, and monitors the way your body weight shifts. If it detects an attack, it reacts to stop and detain you. There''s a reason I wanted you to get in the car before we started this conversation.¡±


    She could see the way Paige tested the strength of the cords, pulling at the bonds for a few silent seconds before seeming to slump visibly. All of the energy ran out of her. There was another brief moment of silence before she quietly asked, ¡°Are you going to try to kill me yourself, or find an expert to do it? Either way, I should warn you that it won''t be as easy as you might think. No matter what defensive measures you have.¡±


    Irelyn, in turn, gave a brief double-take. ¡°Excuse me?¡± She paused, staring at the girl as though really seeing her for the first time. ¡°Paige, why would I want to have you killed?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re angry,¡± came the immediate response. ¡°Don''t deny it, I can tell. I can read you. It''s all over your body language. You''re furious right now. It''s all you can do to stop yourself from lashing out, isn''t it?  You''ve been lied to for all this time, and now you know the truth about me.¡± Her voice actually cracked very slightly at the end. ¡°Of course you want to do something about it. And now you have me right here, trapped.¡± She indicated the fact that not only were her arms restrained, but her ankles as well, from coils that had emerged from under the seat.


    In answer, Irelyn reached out to press a button on the dash. Immediately, the coils retracted and released the other girl. ¡°Yes,¡± she agreed, ¡°I¡¯m angry. I¡¯m pissed off. But not at you. Why the hell would I be angry with you, Paige? You didn¡¯t ask for any of this. I¡¯m angry with the person who¡­ who sold you, and at Mom and Dad. I am pissed as hell at them for playing these games. If they had bought you, no matter how fucked up that is to begin with, because they really wanted to love and take care of you? That would be one thing. But they just want to use you. Dad wants to change you as soon as you¡¯re seventeen. He wants to turn you into some obedient little heir to his kingdom that he can literally reprogram at will. He couldn''t control me. He couldn''t make me into what he wanted. So he went out and bought someone he could completely control. That¡¯s why I¡¯m pissed off. You--Paige¡­ you are my sister. I know you''ve never really believed that before, and now I know why. Now I know why you never opened up. But look at me. I know. I know who you are, I know what you are. And I know that you are my sister. No matter how you came about, our parents tried to control me, tried to make me into what they wanted me to be. And now they¡¯re trying to control you and turn you into what they want you to be. Wherever you came from, whoever put you together and did all this, it doesn''t matter. I mean, it does. But it doesn¡¯t change this. You are my sister, and I am going to get you out of this whole situation, just like I got myself out of it. I''m going to take you away from our parents, and then you and I are going to deal with them and the person who sold you.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t help you,¡± Paige informed her. ¡°I can¡¯t do anything against your¡­ against the Banners right now. I can¡¯t do anything until¡­¡± she trailed off.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do anything until what?¡± Irelyn asked, a slight frown touching her face.


    Paige didn¡¯t answer at first. She seemed to be considering something very intently. Silent thoughts were clearly working their way through her mind, before she finally turned her gaze to the older girl. ¡°Are you¡­ sure about what you said? Do you really want to do something about this together?¡± There was a vulnerability to her voice that Irelyn had never heard before.


    Without hesitation, the woman answered, ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve had days to think about this. I didn¡¯t jump on a whim. I¡­ I took my time. I thought it through. You are my sister. You and me, we¡¯re going to deal with this together.¡±


    She saw the other girl swallow hard. Paige closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them. ¡°Come to my birthday party. Don''t do anything until then. Just come to my party.


    ¡°If you really want to do something about this, that¡¯s where it starts.¡±

 Interlude 18B - Eits And Simon

    At one time, the place had been an old clock shop, catering to those with far more money than they knew what to do with. It had not been in business for a couple years by that point. But a few of the old clocks were still sitting around, waiting for customers who would probably never come. And yet, there was no dust anywhere. The place had been meticulously and regularly cleaned. Between that and the heavy duty security system on the door and windows, Ryder Towling (or Eits, considering he was there in-costume) was starting to think that this place might be a bit more than it appeared to be.


    Well, that and the fact that he had been asked to come here and wait for a certain old friend. An old friend he had only really met once, but still. Given who that friend was, and the way he had met him before, Eits was pretty confident that whatever was going on wasn¡¯t just a casual social call. This was something big enough for them to go through Blackjack for help.


    Whatever they needed, Ryder was ready to give them. It was only because of them that he was capable of being comfortable in his own skin. They, whoever they were, had helped him become the person he was always supposed to be. He owed them a lot for that, and he was ready to pay them back if they asked for it. Sure, there were lines he wouldn¡¯t cross, even for the people who had helped him so much. But up to a certain point, yeah. He was ready to help.


    He had been told that he wouldn¡¯t have to wait long, and they weren¡¯t lying. The boy had only been sitting in the old rocking chair near the back of the shop for about ten minutes when he heard several beeps from the keypad at the front door, followed by the sound of the bell as it was opened to let someone walk inside. That someone stopped just within, letting the door shut behind him before calling out, ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s just me. I¡¯m alone, you can come out.¡±


    Despite that, Ryder glanced at his tablet. He had already used his mites to break through the security in this place, and took over the cameras (whose presence was another thing making it clear that this place was more than it appeared to be). Sure enough, the guy he was waiting for was standing at the front of the store, patiently waiting all by himself with a briefcase in one hand. And a quick check of the two cameras positioned on the outside of the building showed no one suspicious.


    It was good enough for him. So, Eits took a few steps out, putting himself in view. At the same time, he directed the mite he had put in control of the computers to stop messing with their security feed and allow the system to show him. He¡¯d shut them down before coming into the building, allowing the feed to work properly only for his own personal tablet. Everyone else had been seeing nothing but old looped footage up to that point, since he¡¯d come within view of the place. Probably unnecessary, but ever since that whole thing where Paintball had let him know that the Seraphs had detected his intrusion, he was being a lot more careful.


    ¡°Hey, Squire. Still using the same hologram, huh?¡± he asked. Yeah, he remembered that the tall, actor-level handsome black guy wasn¡¯t the person¡¯s real appearance. He¡¯d already told Ryder that he was using an illusion of some form, right after he¡¯d saved the boy from a bunch of transphobic pricks. But hey, at least he was using the same hologram. It might¡¯ve been hard to figure out if it was really him otherwise.


    Come to think of it, what if it wasn¡¯t really him? What if this was just some other member of that group who knew what happened back then and was using the same cover identity to¨C


    ¡°Just Simon¡¯s fine,¡± the guy replied, interrupting his thoughts. ¡°We¡¯re both¡­ sort of friends here and all. Might as well use the name I already gave you. And speaking of names, still using my old one, huh?¡± Squire¨Cor Simon replied in turn. ¡°They said you went with Ryder. Or do you prefer Eits?¡±


    ¡°Whatever works. And yeah, Ryder was¡­ I needed a name that I admired,¡± Ryder admitted with a little shrug. ¡°And uhh, you sort of saved me. You really saved me. If you hadn¡¯t been there, those guys would¡¯ve¨C¡± He stopped himself, unwilling to follow that train of thought. ¡°I like the name Ryder. I umm, I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡± It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he¡¯d immediately come to enjoy people referring to him by it. But being here, suddenly face to face with the guy he had ¡®borrowed¡¯ the name from, made him feel weirdly awkward about the whole thing.


    ¡°Whatever, it¡¯s fine,¡± came the casual response as the holographically-disguised man waved that off. ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty of names. Squire, Simon, Benny, Calvin, Ricky. Maybe one of them¡¯s even real.¡± That last bit was added with a wink before he squinted at Eits, his tone turning somewhat interested. ¡°I also hear you¡¯ve been making new friends. Of the independent sort.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re independent too,¡± Ryder pointed out. ¡°I mean¨Cokay not independent cuz you¡¯re obviously with a group. But you guys aren¡¯t connected to any of the main groups in town. At least, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re not. Seems like¡­ you work with everybody now and then.¡± He eyed the older boy, taking a moment to consider his words (though he¡¯d done a lot of that considering over the time since he¡¯d last seen Squire) before finally adding, ¡°Both good and bad guys.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re pretty mercenary,¡± Simon allowed. ¡°But we also get things done. Not being officially connected to anyone helps with that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a Sell-Touched group then?¡± Ryder guessed. ¡°A secret one that works with Stars and Fells. One with enough influence for Blackjack to feel safe taking advice from you.¡± There was more to it than that, he was sure. But that much he was pretty confident about.


    Simon, in turn, gave a short nod. ¡°Something like that. And right now, we need your help with this little thing.¡± He held up the briefcase, gesturing for the other boy to join him at the counter next to the register while he set the thing up there and began to unlock it.


    Moving that way, Ryder asked, ¡°So what is it? All Blackjack said was that it has to do with that uhh, Scions thing.¡± That had been fun to find out after-the-fact. Dani had gone off with a couple Minority girls and Paintball to get info about the Scions and ended up right in front of Cup herself. All to pay back Deicide for that whole vials favor thing. Yeah, part of Ryder really wanted to give the Easy Eight computers a virus to make them play annoying music or something for that one. Sure, Deicide hadn¡¯t actually known what she was sending them into, but still. Dani was his friend, and he also felt a little responsible for Paintball, knowing what he did about his¡­or rather, her (he had trained himself not to think of Paintball as a girl) secret.


    ¡°This¡­¡± Simon explained while starting to open the case, ¡°was found in a safe inside that apartment, hidden under the floorboards. Let me tell you, it was a real pain in the ass getting it out of there without setting off any of her traps. She had a lot of them. Bitch really likes traps.¡±


    By that point, Eits was able to see into the case itself, revealing a small, closed-down laptop. There was a fingerprint scanner at the clasp, as well as some sort of small keypad, and what was clearly a small microphone. You didn¡¯t just need a passcode to get into the thing. You needed the fingerprint, a numerical code, and a voice password. Between all three of those things and the fact that it had been found hidden in a safe behind a bunch of protective traps? No wonder Simon and whoever he worked with figured it was pretty important.


    After giving the thing a once-over, he glanced to the boy next to him. ¡°Should I ask how you people managed to get something this important out of there past all the Conservators, other Stars, and cops that swarmed the place?¡± He paused briefly before deciding to go for it. ¡°Or did you just pay one of them to hand it to you?¡± Sure, it might be a bit dangerous being that bold with the question, but Ryder figured if he was going to be helping them get the laptop open, he might as well go for broke and find out how much Simon would share about the whole thing.


    Simon, for his part, didn¡¯t answer at first. He simply squinted at Ryder and seemed to be considering the response for a few seconds before simply replying, ¡°We have ways of getting what we need. People who owe us favors.¡±


    ¡°Sort of like the way I owe you?¡± Ryder asked, raising both eyebrows behind the diagonal black and gold bands that criss-crossed his face and eyes.


    ¡°Little bit different from that, in most cases,¡± Simon replied. ¡°But word of advice, don¡¯t try to figure it out. Don¡¯t look too deep into that. Just live your life and don¡¯t worry about it. You don¡¯t, ahh, you know how you don¡¯t want to stare too close to the sun? Think of it like that.¡± He exhaled then, turning to look at the other boy seriously. ¡°Right now, all you need to focus on is that we¡¯re trying to find out everything we can about the Scions, so we can stop them. Just like everyone else. We just need to be more quiet about it. And if we¡¯re gonna get anywhere with stopping them, we need to get into this laptop without losing everything that¡¯s on it. Do you think that¡¯s something you can manage? Be honest, this is important.¡±


    Eits opened his mouth to say it was, before hesitating. ¡°I uhh, I¡¯ll give it the best shot I¡¯ve got. But if you want it to come without the whole setting off booby traps thing, I¡¯m gonna need some time. And also some coffee and pastry-type things? There¡¯s a shop across the street.¡±


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Turning to glance over his shoulder to the door, Simon gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah, I can do that. You ahh¡­ wait here. And take your time. We¡¯ve only got one of those things. No do-overs.¡± With that, he rapped the counter with his knuckles twice. ¡°How do you take yours?¡±


    Once Ryder told him what he liked, the boy promised to be right back, then walked to the door, used the code to open it, and stepped out to head to the shop. Which left Ryder standing in front of the open briefcase. He very carefully took it out, setting the thing on the counter without touching any of the locks, keypad, or the fingerprint scanner. ¡°Okay, guys,¡± he murmured, squinting at the thing while leaning one way, then the other to get a good look, ¡°what do we have here?¡±


    Over the next few minutes, he examined the laptop from every possible angle, carefully picking it up and turning it over to check the bottom. He brought a few of his mites to very gently probe the surface of the thing without trying to break through any of the security. He wasn¡¯t ready to go that far. Not yet, anyway. Because Simon was right. They only had one shot at this. If he screwed up and made the laptop wipe itself, there would be no second chances. Which was making him sweat a little bit, to be honest. Especially given how much he really wanted to contribute to bringing down those sociopaths. Preferably before they did anything to Dani or Paintball in retaliation for being exposed. There would be no rushing this. He would take it slow and steady, no matter how much he desperately wanted to get it done.


    Eventually, Simon returned with the coffees and a bag of pastries. By that time, Eits had moved several old clocks off a nearby table, set the laptop in the middle of it, and was sitting on a padded chair, leaning forward enough to bring the back legs off the floor as he ran his hand close to the side of the computer without actually touching it. One of his tiny, five-inch-tall glowing blue-green ghost-gremlin buddies was perched there, hissing threateningly at the laptop while its long, rabbit-like ears twitched and all four arms waved through the air. The hands got close to the thing, but just like Eits himself, never actually touched it.


    ¡°So ahh, what¡¯s going on here?¡± Simon asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked between Ryder and his mite. ¡°You figure anything out yet?¡± While speaking, he handed over one of the cups.


    Taking the coffee, Ryder sipped it. Not for the first time, he was glad that his particular mask didn¡¯t cover his mouth. Other Touched had to figure out how to deal with eating food, even if it was as simple as pulling a mask up. And if it came to something like gas or smoke, well, he had something for that.


    ¡°Not much,¡± he finally replied after another sip. ¡°I mean, nothing as far as the contents go. Haven¡¯t gotten that far. I think I can safely get it open and get us to the desktop in another fifteen minutes or so. I uhh, don¡¯t wanna screw it up.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s stick with the slow method,¡± Simon agreed, pulling up a chair on the other side of the table. ¡°Just let me know if you need something. I¡¯ve got nothing but time.¡± As if suiting action to words, the boy took the phone from his pocket and began to play a game on it while biting into one of the pastries. He made it clear that he was in no rush and was ready to settle in for hours.


    Hoping that the whole thing wouldn¡¯t take quite that long, Eits settled in and got to work once more. He felt a bit more comfortable with the older boy there to keep an eye on things just in case he ended up accidentally triggering some sort of ¡®come find me¡¯ signal on the computer. As much as he wanted to help take down the Scions, he really didn¡¯t want to do that while face-to-face with them. He was more of a long distance fighter. Long distance as in somewhere in another county, preferably. Direct confrontation was not something he handled very well.


    But this? This was something he could do. Getting into a locked-down computer, past all the security and traps some crazy bitch had left on it? That was totally his speed. Especially with Simon here to watch his back, given he¡¯d already seen how well the other boy dealt with direct confrontation.


    As promised, within fifteen minutes, they had the computer open and were at the desktop without setting off any problems. At least, as far as he could see. He had three different mites monitoring the various security programs they¡¯d found, essentially making sure each one stayed nice and quiet. The way Eits explained it to Simon when the question came up was that the mites were basically singing very soft lullabies to the security programs. An incredibly simplified way of putting it, but close enough.


    Tempting as it was to be excited about actually being in the system after all that, now really wasn¡¯t the time to get cocky and screw up. So, to calm himself, Eits leaned away from the computer and took a bite out of another pastry before letting out a breath. ¡°You think this thing will actually have something useful on it?¡± He glanced toward the other boy. ¡°I mean, sure it¡¯s gotta have something good with all this security, but you think it¡¯ll be useful? Or just like¡­ a list of all the people she wants to skin alive or something.¡±


    ¡°Even that could be somewhat useful,¡± Simon pointed out, ¡°if the list had people we didn¡¯t know about on it.¡± He took a slow sip of his coffee before adding, ¡°we¡¯re pretty sure it¡¯s more than that, though. We would have had our own people go over it, but, you know, time is probably of the essence. Every minute we take trying to break into this thing the old fashioned way is another minute that the information on it becomes less useful. Plus, Blackjack¡¯s been talking up how useful you are to have around.¡±


    A blush found its way to Ryder¡¯s face, only partially hidden by the mask (not covering his mouth area did have another downside after all). ¡°I¨Cahh, he did?¡± The boy tried not to trip over his words, shoving another bite into his mouth and swallowing before managing a weak, ¡°I didn¡¯t know he talked about me to you¨Cor to anyone from your¡­ uhh¡­ mercenary guild?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s call it that,¡± Simon amicably replied, still not taking the bait to talk any more about his group. ¡°Anyway, yeah, your boss really likes the job you¡¯re doing. Congratulations. Now let¡¯s impress him and my people even more by getting into the good stuff from this computer, huh?¡±


    With a short nod, Eits went back to work. He brought out a couple more mites, sending them into the computer through the safe passages the others were keeping open away from the security programs. Letting his eyes close, he focused on what they could ¡®see,¡¯ though that wasn¡¯t exactly the right term for it. They didn¡¯t really see things within the computer. It wasn¡¯t like Tron or anything like that. It was more that they read through data and his brain could understand what they were processing, converting it to something approximating vision. Or something like that. It was hard for him to put the process into words. The point was, he could sense what they found on the computer itself. In this case, that meant identifying each and every trap that had been left on the computer to stop anyone from reading what was on it.


    ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ untangling a thick knot,¡± he murmured aloud for Simon¡¯s benefit. ¡°All these little security measures she left behind are tangled together. If I tug too hard at one, it can set the others off. I need to follow each of them back to the source and hold or snip them without making the whole system crash. If I miss just one of them, it uhh, could be catastrophic.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t miss any,¡± Simon advised. ¡°Like I said, take your time. You break it, you buy it. And I don¡¯t think you can afford to replace ¡®priceless laptop with secrets about the Scions.¡¯¡±


    When Eits blinked over to look at him, the other boy winked. ¡°That¡¯s a joke. But seriously, be careful.¡±


    Ryder followed the advice. For the next forty-five minutes, he very carefully worked his way through disconnecting and disabling every single security program. For someone with his power that was an eternity. He could get through most systems near-instantly. Cup, for whatever other issues she had, was clearly very paranoid about keeping unauthorized people off this computer.


    Finally, he leaned back and cracked his knuckles. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± he murmured with a glance to the guy beside him. ¡°If I did my job right, you should be able to log on with no problems and look through the whole thing. Her security measures should be disabled. And uhh, if I didn¡¯t do my job right, you¡¯ll find out real quick when the whole thing wipes itself. So, you know, here¡¯s hoping.¡± He made a point of holding up both hands with crossed fingers.


    ¡°Wonderfully inspiring,¡± Simon muttered before shaking his head. ¡°Sure, buddy. And thanks.¡±


    ¡°So uhh, you wanna check it out together?¡± Eits asked, tilting his head toward the screen.


    Simon, however, shook his head. ¡°Nice try. We¡¯ll take it from here. Go on and head out. Oh and uhh, can you get your little friends out of the computer?¡±


    Summoning his mites back, Ryder gestured. ¡°You ever need anything else¡­¡±


    ¡°We know where to find you,¡± came the response. ¡°Your payment is with the guy out back, in the alley. Thanks.¡±


    Eits had not exactly been expecting any payment. But he silently turned and headed out the door. Sure enough, there was a nondescript-looking man in a long green coat standing there with an envelope, which he passed over. In the envelope was a thick wad of cash. Ryder tucked it away, murmured his thanks to the man, and walked to the sedan that he had arrived in.


    Only once he had pulled out of the lot and was on the street did the boy let two of his little friends take over the car. While they drove, he leaned over to open his glovebox. Reaching inside, he took out an extra phone he had stashed there. A phone that was connected to the one in his pocket. Both of which already had mites in them that were communicating with each other and with the ones he had sent into the computer.


    There they were. Not all the files that had been on it, but a lot of them. Of course Eits wasn¡¯t sure exactly who Simon worked for, or if they could be trusted. He knew he owed them a lot, and he was grateful. More grateful than he could say. But he was also careful. Not to mention curious. He was going to look through the files himself, and see if anything stood out. Particularly one section of the hard drive, which had been blocked by three times as much security as any other parts.


    Bringing up that section, Ryder leaned back and squinted. A list of adoption records, it looked like. Sealed adoption records. From what he could tell, Cup had had some sort of program running to sort through every adoption within the entire state of Michigan, and several of the bordering states covering the previous fifteen years. He wasn¡¯t sure exactly how the program had been sorting through the records, but it seemed like it was set up to identify a single person with very specific criteria. And, from the look of things, it had found a match only very recently. It was within the past day, so he had no idea if the Scions had seen the results yet or not.


    Either way, Ryder frowned as he brought up the file itself, reading the name of the adopted person the Scions had clearly been obsessively trying to locate.


    ¡°Who the hell is Errol Fosters?¡±

 Winging It 19-01

    ¡°Do you think Alloy¡¯s okay?¡± Izzy asked the next morning while the two of us were sitting up on the roof overlooking the grounds. We both had our knees drawn to our chests while we ate a couple bowls of cereal and enjoyed the fact that we weren¡¯t in immediate life-threatening danger. And, even though it had been most of a day since all that happened, I enjoyed the whole actually being able to move thing. Yeah, being paralyzed really wasn¡¯t fun.


    After letting Flea know about everything yesterday (or at least as much as we could say), we had contacted Caishen too so she knew what was going on and what we had found out. Then the rest of us simply let the adult teams do their thing. We¡¯d done quite enough by that point. And quite frankly, we all needed a break. That-A-Way and Raindrop had to go back to the Minority base to give a full, official report. And Peyton had definitely wanted to go home, shower, and recover from all that. I took a run with her across the city first, both of us stretching our legs and just making sure we could move properly, before I let her head home. Then I did the same thing, which had led to like an hour-long hot bath that I had fallen asleep in, followed by an actual nap in my bed. Then dinner, a rush of getting weekend homework done, some goofing off with Izzy once she showed up, and more sleeping. Yeah, I was exhausted, right down to my bones.


    Now I¡¯d slept enough. God, I¡¯d needed that though. More than I¡¯d even known.


    It was Sunday, so most of the first staff had the day off. There were still a few weekend workers around, including one of Claudio¡¯s peers, since he and his two assistants (Ethan and Christiana) would be gone all day. And honestly, it had practically been a fight between my parents and Claudio to get the chef to let someone else work the kitchen so he could have the day off. He had a thing against people, as he put it, bumbling around his space, fondling his instruments (that¡¯s what he called it), and making a mess. If he¡¯d had his way, he would¡¯ve worked every single day. But Mom and Dad insisted he have a day off. Granted, that day off changed frequently, but he was keeping to the letter of the rule if he took one day off per week.


    In the end, he¡¯d only even agreed to that much when they allowed him to choose his substitute. Which had amounted to going around every five-star restaurant within the entire state and making them audition for him until he found someone he was satisfied could handle coming in one day per week to work the kitchen without totally destroying it. And yes, he still wasn¡¯t all that happy about the idea. He cursed and made threats every time someone brought up the idea of his taking two days off. Cooking was Claudio¡¯s life. It was what made him happy. For him, it wasn¡¯t a job, it was what he loved.


    Chewing and swallowing the cereal in my mouth, I offered a shrug. ¡°Peyton? Yeah, I think she¡¯s okay. I hope so. I just¡­ I wish we could have eased her into things a little better instead of making her deal with¡­ all that.¡± A grimace found its way to my face. Yeah, that definitely hadn¡¯t been easy. But we got out of it. ¡°We would¡¯ve been in a lot more trouble without her.¡±


    ¡°She knows that, right?¡± Izzy shifted a bit to look at me. ¡°I mean, she should already, but you told her how helpful she was? You know, so she doesn¡¯t umm, start thinking she didn¡¯t help.¡±


    My head nodded vigorously. ¡°Oh, believe me, I spent like the entire run across the city after we left you guys making sure she knew just how grateful I was that she came with us. Seriously. I think I embarrassed her a little bit.¡± A snort of amusement escaped me at the memory of Peyton stammering that it was no big deal, before it turned into a lump in my throat. ¡°Still, I wish she didn¡¯t have to be involved in all that. She¡¯s been doing this like, what, a week and she¡¯s already been involved with going into Paige¡¯s brain to deal with that, plus now she¡¯s made personal enemies out of Cup and Pencil? She¡¯s not even getting the chance to build up at all. We just sort of picked her up and threw her in the deep end.¡±


    Izzy shook her head, taking another bite of cereal and swallowing before she spoke. ¡°You didn¡¯t throw her into anything. You didn¡¯t throw me into anything either. Or Way, or¡­ or Pack. We make our own decisions, and we decided to help. It¡¯s not your responsibility to keep everyone out of danger, Cassie.¡± After a brief moment, she added, ¡°Besides, it¡¯s not like you had the chance to wade around the shallow end for a long time either. Like, your very first thing with any of this was finding out¡­ you know.¡± She gestured around us. ¡°Where all this comes from.¡±


    The reminder made me blanch, swallowing hard before giving a very short nod. ¡°Right, well I don¡¯t have to like it happening to other people too. But yeah, I umm, I think she¡¯ll be okay. I told her to take a couple days off and recover before we do anything else stressful.¡±


    ¡°You think she will?¡± Izzy asked, sounding curious as she tapped her spoon thoughtfully against the side of her bowl before taking another bite.


    I shrugged. ¡°I mean, she said something about going to Wren¡¯s to help Murphy and Roald clean up. It¡¯s not a total ¡®day off¡¯, but at least it¡¯s not something horribly dangerous. I guess maybe I¡¯ll go over there a bit later too, just to check on Paige and all that. Heh, maybe she¡¯d like to hear about what sort of things I can get up to while she¡¯s not around.¡±


    ¡°You just want to tell her what you did while she¡¯s still paralyzed and can¡¯t choke you,¡± Izzy retorted while giving me a pointed look.


    Flushing a little, I admitted, ¡°That might be part of it.¡± A frown found its way to my face then. ¡°God, it¡¯s weird to talk about Paige at all without like¡­ thinking about needing holy water and maybe a priest to make her stay away from me.¡± It really did do weird things to my stomach. There was so much history there between us. Hell, no wonder her being so¡­ so awful to me for so long had actually affected me as much as it had. If I subconsciously somehow still remembered the fact that we were supposed to be friends, it would have hurt so much more than coming from a stranger.


    Seeming to know exactly where my mind had gone, Izzy reached out to squeeze my arm. ¡°She couldn¡¯t control it,¡± the girl reminded me. ¡°She didn¡¯t have a choice about any of it.¡±


    With a sigh, I started to say that I knew she was right, but my Touched-stuff phone buzzed first. Holding the bowl in one hand, I tugged out the phone to look at it. It was not, as I had immediately feared, a message about something terrible happening. Instead, the message was a news alert about Cup and Pencil. I had set this phone to monitor that sort of thing instead of my normal one, just to keep everything in my life as separate as possible. And just in case, I really didn¡¯t want to explain to my parents why I¡¯d set up a news alert for Scion-related stuff. Not that I really expected them to look, nor was it really impossible for me to explain wanting to know what those psychopaths were up to after the whole attack at the hotel and hospital. But still, just¡­ best to keep all that separate so my parents had absolutely no reason to look at me at all.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Izzy asked, shifting around a bit to be closer. ¡°Is something wrong? Did¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a story about Cup and Pencil,¡± I replied, turning the phone a bit so she could see the headline while summarizing for her. ¡°They did it. The authorities, I mean. They put out the whole story about who they are. Their real names, their pictures, their backstory and how they faked that whole thing with their murdered parents and the ¡®original Pencil.¡¯ All of it. It¡¯s all here. Everything we told the adults. They really put all of it out there.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow.¡± Izzy rocked backward a bit, swallowing. ¡°I mean, I know we expected them to, but¡­ but still.¡± She hesitated before looking at me seriously. ¡°Those guys are gonna be so pissed off.¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°They sure are. But at least now they can¡¯t operate as easily as they did before, you know? They¡¯ll have eyes on them everywhere they go under their normal faces. They can¡¯t¡­ can¡¯t¡­ wait¡­¡± I had scrolled down by that point, my thumb moving along the screen to find the image of Pencil and Cup¡¯s real faces. Someone had put up an image of the two of them at a school function. I knew Amanda, of course. But this was my first time seeing Nick himself.


    Except it wasn¡¯t my first time seeing him.


    ¡°Cass?¡± Izzy stared at me, clearly seeing the look on my face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Are you okay?¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    With a shaking finger, I pointed at the image on the screen. ¡°I know him. I¡¯ve seen him. I mean obviously I know Pencil. But him. He was¡­ he was¡­¡± A shudder ran through me. ¡°Back when I was looking for the vials for Ashton, I umm¡­ I went out one night and saw the umm¡­ the aftermath of one of the Scions¡¯ sick little games at this gas station. A bunch of people died in there, thanks to¡­ thanks to Pencil. I was standing there, and this guy came up in a jogging suit and demanded to know why no one ever stopped Pencil. He was¡­ he was angry because we weren¡¯t doing enough to save people.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s gaze moved from my own eyes down to the image on the screen, then back again. ¡°Him? It¡­ it was him?¡±


    My head gave a quick, jerky nod. ¡°Definitely. It was him. He was fucking with us. He was right there, demanding to know why no one ever caught Pencil, and it was him the whole time. It was him and¨Cand we didn¡¯t even¨CI didn¡¯t even.¡± My eyes squeezed shut as I resisted the urge to hurl the phone as far away as I could. He had been right there talking to me. How did I just let him walk away after all that? How could I completely fail to see anything wrong with him? He walked right up to me, right up and just started talking. Was I stupid and clueless? I should have noticed that something was wrong. I should have paid more attention to him. There had to have been some sort of giveaway. If I¡¯d just looked at him straight on, thought more about it, done¨C


    ¡°Cassie,¡± Izzy quietly insisted while setting her bowl down so she could lean over and put her arms around me. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. Nobody recognized him. How could you? People don¡¯t recognize you in your costume and all that either. That¡¯s like¡­ the point of a costume, you know? It¡¯s the whole point of wearing a disguise. You had no reason to suspect that guy. Come on, you can¡¯t blame yourself for that too.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I admitted, still shuddering. ¡°But I just¨Cif I had¨Cif we had. I can¡¯t¡­¡± Exhaling long and low, I nodded. ¡°I get it. Believe me. I just¨Che was right there. He was talking to me. It makes my skin crawl.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°My dad was right there too, as Silversmith, I mean. He was there and talked to him too.¡± How was he feeling right now? Did he even remember that guy showing up and talking to us, or had it just faded into the background for him? How much did he even care about that?


    Okay, that really wasn¡¯t fair. I knew he hated the Scions, especially after what they did at the hospital. Pencil and his gang weren¡¯t under any sort of Ministry control, so he and Mom obviously wanted them taken out as much as anyone else did. I just couldn¡¯t help those instinctive feelings.


    ¡°If he knew, he would have stopped the guy too.¡± Izzy¡¯s voice was firm. ¡°Your dad might be¡­ umm, not good. But he would have stopped that.¡±


    With a sigh, I nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. I know. I know you¡¯re right. Dad¡¯s a lot of things, but he¡¯s not¡­ he¡¯s not like that. They have rules and stuff, we already know that much. I just¡­¡± Taking in a long, deep breath before slowly letting it out, I murmured, ¡°I really hope someone stops them now. I don¡¯t care who it is, which side of the law they¡¯re on. I don¡¯t care about any of that as long as they stop those psychopaths.¡±


    The other girl nodded firmly, and the two of us sat in silence for a few seconds. Then, clearly distracting me from obsessing over that, Izzy asked, ¡°You¡¯ve got that other thing today too, right? Before you can help at Wren¡¯s place.¡±


    The reminder made me smile just a bit despite myself. ¡°Right, yeah. The other thing.


    ¡°I get to go hang out with Bird-Dad.¡±


    *******


    After leaving the house and making damn sure I was nowhere near it, I made the call to the Seraph¡¯s headquarters and had them transfer me to Lucent so we could set up the exact time to meet. Apparently he wasn¡¯t too busy, because he said he could meet within the hour, and asked if I was still okay with him bringing his friend. I said that was fine (I was curious about who this ¡®friend¡¯ of his was and why he thought we should meet), and arranged to be at the front gates as soon as possible.


    Heading over there, I kept my eyes open just in case. I wasn¡¯t really expecting a huge problem, considering how many people had their eyes open for Pencil and Cup. They were probably pretty busy dealing with the fallout from that, but better safe than sorry. We were going to have to be careful, because as soon as those fucks decided to turn from survival and escape to revenge, all of us were going to be right at the top of their list. Which was just peachy.


    Eventually, I made it up there and landed in front of the gate. Matthew Orens was there, and I started to ask if he had the cover for the book, but the man interrupted. ¡°Never mind that right now. You okay, kid? I ahhh, well, everybody heard about what happened. At least, what¡¯s semi-public. And I¡¯ve been around long enough to know that ain¡¯t the whole story. You got those assholes¡¯ real identities, and that can¡¯t have been easy.¡±


    Blinking a couple times, I replied, ¡°Uh, me being involved wasn¡¯t in the official story.¡± That was intentional, we didn¡¯t want quite that much attention. The Scions were going to be pissed off enough at us without throwing more fuel on the fire. As far as the regular media was concerned, their real identities had been discovered through the work of police and the Conservators.


    Orens gave me an easy nod. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s why I said semi-official. Believe me, when you work around this many Touched, things have a way of getting around.¡± His voice softened a bit as he added, ¡°But seriously, that had to be pretty rough. Glad you got out of it. Everyone okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re okay,¡± I confirmed, painting a smiley face on the front of my helmet. ¡°I¡¯m just glad they¡¯ve got those guys on the run now. It won¡¯t be as easy for them to walk around on the street. I mean, it won¡¯t solve every problem. And things will probably get worse before they get better. And¨Cdamn it, this was supposed to be a positive thing. I should really stop talking.¡±


    With a very light, almost humorless chuckle, the man assured me. ¡°It¡¯s definitely positive, that¡¯s for sure. Still, you be careful out there. Not just for the Scions themselves. They¡¯ve also got fans and wannabes. If they figure out what your involvement was, they¡¯ll try to make a name for themselves by coming after you. You know, impress their heroes to get a spot on the team.¡±


    Blanching at the thought that there were people who actually wanted to impress those psychopaths, I gave a short nod. ¡°Thanks, we¡¯ll keep our eyes open. But hey, let¡¯s get that book done. You said Josh¡¯s birthday was Wednesday, right? We better finish that up.¡±


    He already had the pages I¡¯d given him bound properly into a cover, and I took the time to make a cool picture on the front. Then I put a brief description on the back and added the finishing touch to the inside cover, a bit that read, ¡®For Josh, from Dad, Paintball, and the rest of Avant-Guard. Happy birthday.¡¯


    Reading that bit, Orens raised an eyebrow. ¡°Avant-Guard? You know it¡¯s spelled¨C¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I quickly assured him. ¡°We ahhh, we¡¯re testing out a new name. What do you think?¡±


    Reading it over again, the man considered. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s definitely unique. Shouldn¡¯t have to worry about it being taken. You know how to sign up to register your team name and membership so the authorities know who they¡¯re dealing with?¡±


    I didn¡¯t, of course, and the man gave me the name of a website to go to that would walk me through it. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t give any real authority or anything. Nothing more than what being accepted as a Star-Touched already gave. But it was a way of giving the authorities an easy way to check team membership and know who they were working with.


    After I thanked him, the man shook his head and smiled broadly while waving the book. ¡°No, thank you, kid. This is perfect. It¡¯s gonna be great, he¡¯ll love it. And I meant what I said before. You really should look into taking some extra grammar and writing classes so you can do this sort of thing for an extra living. Pretty sure it¡¯d give you all the free time you need so you can set your own hours. Give it a thought, you¡¯ve got a few years.¡±


    As my face flushed a little bit under the helmet, I thanked him profusely and promised to check in later to see how his son ended up liking his gift. With that, I turned to the gate just in time to hear a voice pipe up from just above me.


    ¡°Sir Orens is correct, my boy. You should be thinking of the future. One never truly understands just how fast time moves until far too much of it has already passed us by.¡±


    Blinking up that way, I brought the big smiley face back and waved. ¡°Hey, Papa! Fancy meeting you here.¡±


    Hopping down from the fence to land on top of a nearby trash can, Lucent gave me what I swore was a proud bird look. ¡°I¡¯ve heard all about how busy you¡¯ve been, lad. I hope you take Sir Orens¡¯ advice. Not merely his words about planning for the future, but about being careful as well. He is very correct. The fiends will see you and yours as fine targets now. And did I hear you and your allies have settled upon a group identity?¡±


    So, I told him about the whole Avant-Guard thing. He thought it was amazing, and said so. He even gave some ideas for logos and such, and we spent about five minutes or so just going back and forth on those thoughts before a voice spoke up from near the ground. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Blinking that way, I found myself looking at a familiar, very tiny figure perched there on the ground. My eyes widened a bit and I immediately blurted, ¡°Lion!¡± Yeah, it was the mouse TONI (TOuched Nonhuman Individual). Pretty hard to mistake a talking mouse in golden armor for anyone else. ¡°Hey, how¡¯re you doing? I didn¡¯t know you were still in town. You¨C¡± Blinking from her over to Lucent, I managed, ¡°This is your friend?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Lucent flew down to land next to her. ¡°She wanted to talk to you again. Or rather, she wanted to talk to your friend.¡±


    ¡°My friend?¡± I echoed.


    Lion hesitantly took over. ¡°The umm, the person who has been supplying you. We¡­ umm¡­ we think you have a Tech-Touched helping and ahhh, umm, if it isn¡¯t too much of an imposition, I would like to umm¡­ talk to¡­ them? While you and ahh, Lucent here are busy.¡±


    For a second, I let the thought of that work its way through my brain. Lion and Wren having a conversation, those two collaborating and¡­ and¡­


    A smile found its way to my face, as I translated it into an even broader one painted across my helmet. ¡°You know what? Yeah.


    ¡°I think that sounds like a great idea.¡±

 Winging It 19-02

    As I had told Izzy, I wasn¡¯t planning on going over to Wren¡¯s place until after my whole thing with Lucent. But how could I possibly say no to Lion¡¯s request to meet the girl? Well, okay, maybe Wren wouldn¡¯t want to, and then I would say no. But something told me she wouldn¡¯t.


    Indeed, as I used my phone to call the girl in question and raised the subject, her answering squeal of joy made me flinch and wish that I could pull the Bluetooth thing away from my ear. It ahh, went on for a few seconds. Somewhere in the background, I heard the others quickly and repeatedly asking what was wrong. Oh, and they were also pleading with her to come down, so I could only imagine she had used her wing pack thing to fly up by the ceiling in her excitement.


    ¡°Trevithick!¡± I managed to cut in, glancing toward Lucent and Lion. From the way they both had their heads cocked as they looked toward me, I had the feeling they could hear at least part of that squeal and were amused. ¡°Hey, if you really don¡¯t want to meet her¨C¡± I started to tease.


    ¡°No, no, no!¡± the kid immediately blurted. ¡°I do! Yes, please! Bring her over! It¡¯ll be great, it¡¯ll be fun, are you serious? Is she really coming? It¡¯s really the real Lion and she¡¯ll come over?¡±


    Before I could respond to that, I heard a rather panicked Fred demand to know where Paintball had gotten a lion and why the hell I thought bringing it over there was a good idea. And that no, very firm no, absolutely no, she could not keep the lion. Also, was I/Paintball ¡®completely nuts?¡¯


    Leaving Wren to explain the situation to her uncle for a moment, I looked at the two TONIs and cleared my throat before giving them a thumbs up. ¡°I uh, think it¡¯ll be okay. She¡¯s really excited to meet you.¡±


    ¡°And I to meet her,¡± Lion quickly assured me, tiny head bobbing up and down before jerking a bit to the side to watch as a car drove past in the distance. She turned just as sharply to look upward, and I glanced that way to see a bird flying past. The moment it had moved on and was no longer an immediate danger, her nose twitched and she snapped her head yet again, looking toward the gate nearby as a man walked out, heading down the sidewalk.


    Watching all that drove home just how vulnerable she must feel. She was even more intelligent than most humans, yet Lion was trapped in a body small and vulnerable enough that, without the armor she wore and her inventions for protection, a small human child could have killed her with a single kick. No wonder she was so nervous. And that didn¡¯t even count all the actual predators out there who would have eaten her in an instant, without any regard for the things she could design and build. She had a mouse¡¯s fearful instinct combined with a very intelligent understanding of just how vulnerable she could be. That must have been utterly terrifying.


    By that point, Wren had returned to the phone, her voice high with excitement as she urgently insisted that everything was fine and we should bring Lion over right now because she had so many things she wanted to ask about, and show her, and and and it went on. Yeah, she was basically losing her mind like a total fangirl at the very concept of meeting the mouse TONI.


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± I managed once I could get a word in edgewise. ¡°But Trevithick, this is important. Do you want me to bring her to your shop directly, or do you want to meet her somewhere private?¡± I didn¡¯t say it out loud, but I knew both she and the two in front of me would know what I was really asking. Which was, did she want Lion (and possibly Lucent) to know where her shop was and who she was, or did she want to keep her identity and place completely secret from them.


    In response, there was a pause. It told me that the kid was actually taking the question seriously, despite her excitement. I could picture her standing there, thoughtfully chewing her lip as she weighed the options back and forth a bit. ¡°Hang on,¡± she finally replied. Then I heard her start a murmured conversation some distance away from the phone, talking to her uncle about it. And possibly to the others as well. Honestly, I was just glad she hadn¡¯t dismissed the potential concern out of hand. Especially considering I still wasn¡¯t completely positive that we could absolutely trust Lucent without question. Oh, I was pretty sure he was safe and all, but I wasn¡¯t going to translate pretty sure into total certainty. Not when it came to something like my parents.


    Finally, the younger girl¡¯s voice came back. ¡°I want to ask her for ideas about protecting this place, so she should probably know where it is.¡± Unlike moments earlier, she was speaking calmly and rationally. It was clear she had put real thought into the answer. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay. ButI¡¯mtotallywearingarealcostume!¡± The last bit came flooding out in a rush of words, followed by a lamenting squeal about how she had to find something good.


    Hoping that she was right about this being okay, I promised to be there soon, then disconnected and looked to the others ¡°Well, guess it¡¯s fine. You get to meet my friend, Trevithick. But umm, keep everything you find out to yourselves, please?¡± I wasn¡¯t sure how to ask Lucent not to go as well. Despite the voice whispering in the back of my head that I can¡¯t be certain he wasn¡¯t compromised by the Ministry, I just couldn¡¯t find the right words without being completely suspicious and rude.


    Fortunately, it turned out I didn¡¯t have to find any words. Lucent himself gave what was the best bird-approximation of a bow. ¡°I believe the invitation was for Lady Lion herself. Far be it from me to overstep. Perhaps you should take our exceptional friend here to meet this Trevithick, then meet me in some neutral location for our own training session while they converse?¡±


    A swell of relief ran through me while I gave a quick nod. ¡°Oh, sure. Yeah, I can do that.¡± Of course, then the relief turned into uncertainty as I looked down at Lion. ¡°Um, do you mind if I carry you, or¡­ umm¡­¡± Yeah, given how justifiably nervous she was, this was pretty awkward.


    Lion, for her part, turned a bit. ¡°Jared, could you come out here, please?¡±


    Jared? Blinking uncertainly, I turned. Lion must have been speaking through a communicator or something, because it took a minute before the gate opened and a man emerged. Not that I would have noticed him if he hadn¡¯t been the only person coming into view. In a crowd, he would have basically vanished completely. He looked completely ordinary and average in every conceivable way. He wasn¡¯t short, and he wasn¡¯t tall. He had dark hair with an unremarkable cut, his clothes were clean and might as well have been made by a company named Boring. He wore glasses, but they were so mundane that you would be forgiven for forgetting he had them at all five minutes after he walked away. The man seemed genetically predisposed to fade into the background of any situation, and everything he wore completely facilitated that. If I had seen this man in a crowd of people, I would have completely forgotten his existence a moment after they passed. Which, I was absolutely certain, was the intention.


    Stopping in front of us, the man offered a faint, polite smile. ¡°Good morning,¡± he greeted me.


    ¡°O-oh, umm, Paintball, this is ahh, my friend Jared,¡± Lion introduced us, raising one paw to gesture back and forth. ¡°Jared, this ahh, this is Paintball. You uh, remember from the videos.¡±


    Videos? Oh God. As a pink flush of embarrassment crossed my hidden face, Jared gave a short nod and smiled at me. ¡°You gave that demon guy a pretty good run across the city. Gave Lion and me a laugh, let me tell you.¡±


    Still blushing, I managed a casual shrug. ¡°Yeah, well, I sorta had to run away, considering I wasn¡¯t really in the mood to let him dribble me off the ground and toss me in a dumpster. My name is Paintball, not basketball.¡±


    ¡°He could do it too,¡± Jared agreed with a grimace. ¡°Glad you got away. And made him look like a fool in the process. But I hope you¡¯re being careful.¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Believe me, I have a lot to be careful about, it¡¯s not just him.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Lucent put in, ¡°You have proven yourself quite adept at a great many things. But perhaps none as much as your proclivity for making enemies very quickly. The Scions and their admirers will not simply go quietly into the night. You must remain vigilant, and aware of your surroundings. I¨C¡± He paused before shaking his little bird head. ¡°I will not attempt to insist that you join a larger group, particularly not now that you have gone so far as to attract others to your side and given yourselves a name. But please, be as careful as possible. And do not hesitate to ask others for help should you need it. I, for one, will always stand ready to swoop in and lend a wing, so to speak.¡± His dark eyes seemed to stare straight through my visor. ¡°All parental jokes aside, I will be there the moment you request it. You have more than earned that aid. Please, you are enough of a hero as it is. Should the need arise, ask for help.¡±


    Feeling embarrassed and uncertain under the intense scrutiny, I squirmed a bit on my feet before mumbling an agreement. Then I turned back to Lion, as the little mouse carefully asked Jared to take off the backpack he was wearing. As a testament to how utterly mundane the man and his clothing were, I hadn¡¯t even noticed he had one. But there it was. He carefully took the thing off. It was very simple-looking, a brown and white bag with what looked like a cheap padlock and several zippers across it. At a glance, the bag didn¡¯t look any different than what you¡¯d see on any of a thousand different backs walking through an average high school. But something told me it was much more unique than that.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Sure enough, Lion explained that the bag was a home away from home. It held screens and microphones she could watch and communicate through, and was shielded in general against damage. Plus, there was a mouse-sized holdout bunker in the bottom that was capable of standing up against an incredible amount of damage if things got really bad.


    ¡°Oh, you want me to wear that while we go visit Trevithick?¡± I realized.


    Her little mouse head bobbed quickly, voice emerging from the speakers built into her armor. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind? I don¡¯t umm, ahhh, think it would be very comfortable in your pocket.¡±


    Jared spoke up then. ¡°You¡¯ll have to wear this too.¡± He extended a hand, showing me a small pin. It looked just like a little silver eagle or hawk, with black beads for eyes. Except they weren¡¯t beads. They were the lens for a camera. Jared explained that if I clipped it to the front of my costume, Lion would be able to see what I could. She could also see behind me through cameras in the bag, but this was her way of keeping an eye on what was going on in front of us.


    So, I carefully put the pin on, and Jared helped the mouse into the bag. We made sure it was all working and she could see and communicate with me properly before Lucent promised to talk to Lion later, and reiterated that he would see me somewhere else after I dropped off Lion. We settled on the roof of a grocery store we both knew about, and my bird-dad went flying off.


    Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turned it to find Jared looking at me intently. ¡°You be careful with her,¡± he warned. ¡°The bag¡¯s protected, but don¡¯t go chasing problems while she¡¯s there.¡±


    Before I could respond, the mouse¡¯s projected voice came through speakers in the bag. ¡°It¡¯s ahh, okay, Jared. I¡¯m sure um, Paintball will be ahh very cautious about running after trouble. Um, right?¡± Her voice took on a slight note of worry, probably considering my reputation in that moment.


    Coughing under Jared¡¯s intense stare, I weakly protested, ¡°Oh, come on, I¡¯m sure I can go five minutes without chasing after horrible bad guys or tripping over a bunch of crazy violence.¡±


    ¡°Um, if it¡¯s only five minutes,¡± Lion¡¯s voice piped up once more, ¡°maybe we should, ahh, hurry?¡±


    Jared warned me again not to go crazy, and I gave him a thumbs up before carefully adjusting the bag on my back. Cinching it tight, I spoke up. ¡°Let me know if I need to slow down or anything. And uhh, I¡¯ll avoid doing any flips.¡± With that, I raised a hand to shoot a blob of red paint toward the corner of nearby street light, and launched myself upward through a mix of that and blue paint under my feet, releasing the red on my way up so that I shot past it and used another red shot on the roof of a building across the street. Then we were flying that way.


    Landing on the roof in a jog, I asked, ¡°How¡¯re you doing in there? Everything okay? I can slow down if you want, or just take it easy on the jolts.¡± We were approaching the edge of the roof, but I slowed down to give her time to respond before the next jump.


    To my relief, she immediately chirped, ¡°It¡¯s quite alright, Mr. Paintball. The ahh bunker bag was built to dampen inertia and umm, compensate for sudden motion. You would have to move much faster than that to have any sort of problem. But umm, just in case, this¨C¡± There was a loud ringing sound, like an old telephone. ¡°¨Cmeans please stop, there¡¯s a problem.¡±


    Holding my hand in front of the pin-camera, I gave her a thumbs up. ¡°That¡¯ll definitely get my attention. Right, in that case, hold on. Or, you know, brace yourself.¡±


    With that, I pushed off from where I had stopped a few feet from the edge of the roof. Painting my legs green, I use the burst of speed to get there in an instant before activating purple circles on my arms. Using the boosted strength, I launched myself out into open air, windmilling a bit before sending another shot of red at the side of the next building. I let it pull me that way, twisting a bit so that I landed feet-first against the wall, the gravity boots keeping me in place. Then I ran along that wall a few steps before using the voice code to make the wheels of my skates pop out. As we rolled toward the edge of the building, completely sideways, I called back, ¡°Hope you¡¯re ready back there, Miss Lion.


    ¡°Cuz we¡¯re about to have some fun.¡±


    *******


    I didn¡¯t go too nuts, of course. I kept my promise to avoid flips, for one thing. There might have been inertial dampeners in the bag, but I wasn¡¯t sure how well they would stand up to going completely upside down. And I definitely didn¡¯t want to test it with Lion in there. That felt like a really bad idea. Or at least a good way of ending up with an incredibly dizzy mouse.


    But I did make some long jumps and showed off a little, making sure Lion was okay after each one. She seemed to be enjoying herself, so I played it up a little more as we got closer to Wren¡¯s place. Something told me she probably didn¡¯t get out like this that often, so I wanted to make the whole thing memorable for her. Preferably without making her sick.


    Taking a moment at the end to make sure no one was close, I made my way through the alley leading up to the back of the shop while telling Lion that we were almost there. ¡°Before you meet Trevithick,¡± I started, ¡°there¡¯s something about her that I should probably tell you ab¨C¡±


    ¡°Paintball!¡± The back door of the shop was already open as we approached, and Wren came flying out. Literally flying, with her wing pack. As promised, she was wearing a costume¡­ of sorts. It consisted of a sleek black bodysuit with bright pink armored panels along her arms, legs, and chest, and matching black helmet, covering her entire head and face. A pink-tinted visor ran across her eyes.


    She flew right up in the air at eye-level, and grabbed my shoulders, staring at me through that pink visor. ¡°Didja bring her, is she here? You weren¡¯t fibbing, were you? She¡¯s really coming?¡± Her gaze was darting around excitedly, like a kid anticipating Santa¡¯s arrival. Which, for a Tech-Touched like Wren, being able to talk to someone like Lion probably was a lot like Santa. I had a feeling there weren¡¯t too many people the kid could talk shop with.


    Laughing a little despite myself, I nodded. ¡°First of all, you really threw that together in ten minutes? And it¡¯s okay, she¡¯s here. Lion, this is Trevithick.¡±


    There was a very brief pause before Lion¡¯s voice emerged, ¡°It is ahh, a pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure. May umm, may we go inside so that it can be face to face?¡±


    Realizing she was in the bag, Wren gave a delighted squeal. She spun three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, all the way around in the air. Then she did it again, only that time it was a full forward vertical flip rather than a simple sideways spin. ¡°Come on, come on!¡± Inverting in midair, she flew right back through the open doorway while calling back for us to follow her.


    Clearing my throat, I managed, ¡°Like I was gonna say, she¡¯s young. But really effective.¡±


    ¡°I-umm, I believe you,¡± came the response. ¡°From everything I¡¯ve ahh, heard, her age is no detriment to her skill. She is the uhh, one who built the forced movement suit?¡±


    Right, of course she would know about that. Lion probably had contacts within all the Star-Touched groups to have learned about what we did with Ashton. Plus, she was clearly friendly with Lucent from the Seraphs, and they knew plenty because I¡¯d ¡®borrowed¡¯ a piece of their technology for the suit.


    So, I nodded while heading to the door, not wanting to make Wren wait so long that she spontaneously combusted or something. Only belatedly did I realize that nodding was dumb, because Lion couldn¡¯t see my head movements. Flushing a little inwardly while silently thanking the fact that no one had seen that, I spoke up. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s her. She¡¯s umm, she¡¯s done a lot.¡±


    For a brief moment, I actually considered asking for her advice about Paige. But I wasn¡¯t sure that was a good idea. Not that she wasn¡¯t trustworthy, probably. But it really wasn¡¯t my place to go exposing Paige like that to someone she didn¡¯t even know. After all, with my secrets, how would I feel if one of the others took it upon themselves to tell someone else about them? Even if they thought the person could help, I¡¯d still feel pretty shitty about it.


    So no, unless Paige said it was okay, I wasn¡¯t going to get into all that with her. It wasn¡¯t my place to make that sort of decision. Besides, I still needed to ask her what the deal with her older sister was.


    By the time I shook that thought off, we¡¯d entered through the back door. Immediately, I saw Wren hovering over by one of the tables full of junk, clutching the side of it with both hands while literally vibrating in midair. She was hovering there, staring without moving any closer. Because, I realized, she was literally holding onto the table to stop herself from lunging my way and demanding once more to meet Lion.


    Oh yeah, and the others were there too. Fred stood in the background, watching with a wary, uncertain expression. He wore no costume at all, of course. Meanwhile, Murphy and Roald stood on either side of him. In their case, my two¡­. helpers wore their ski masks. Apparently they weren¡¯t on board with exposing their identities to Lion. Which was fair. Not that it would be impossible for the little mouse to figure out if she actually investigated Wren¡¯s shop at all, but still.


    Apparently Peyton wasn¡¯t here yet. If she was smart (smarter than me, at least) she¡¯d be using this chance to sleep in and relax.


    Rather than torture Wren any further, I stepped over to the nearest table and slipped the backpack off. As I put the thing down, a little slot in the front opened and the guest of honor hesitantly poked her nose out. She sniffed cautiously once, twice, then stepped into view. Her small head was darting around rapidly, looking almost panicked as she took everything in. By contrast with her rapid motions, her voice was actually fairly calm (at least as calm as she seemed to ever sound). ¡°Ah, hello. It is uhh, my pleasure to meet another¡­ ahhh¡­ Tech-Touched such as you, Miss.¡±


    A rush of fear ran through me that Wren was going to squeal or scream and lunge that way, terrifying the poor mouse. But she actually seemed to understand what a bad idea that was. I saw her physically take a breath, then lower herself back to the ground before taking a few careful steps closer. ¡°H-hi, Miss Lion.¡± Oh, and she sounded nervous, rubbing the back of her new helmet and squirming. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ umm, I¡¯m Wren. It¡¯s really nice to meet you. Oh, that¡¯s Uncle Fred.¡± She gestured that way. ¡°And those are¡­ uhhh¡­¡± She trailed off, as both she and I realized we weren¡¯t sure what to call the other two if we weren¡¯t giving away their names.


    Murphy, however, was on top of it. She gestured to her friend. ¡°That¡¯s Calvin. I¡¯m Hobbes. Don¡¯t mind us, we just clean up around here. Umm, Miss Talking Brilliant Mouse Lady.¡± Much as she was still trying to keep her cool and sound disinterested, I could tell it was all Murphy (or Hobbes) could do not to have a little squealing fit of her own.


    While Lion politely thanked everyone for greeting her, I heard Roald quietly hiss, ¡°Calvin and Hobbes?¡± to Murphy.


    ¡°Look,¡± she hissed right back, ¡°that was what jumped into my head. It was that or Yogi and Boo Boo. And guess who would¡¯ve been Boo Boo.¡±


    Smirking a little despite myself, I turned my attention back to Lion and Wren. ¡°So, you guys cool to talk some shop here while I run around for awhile?¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh yes.¡± Lion assured me. ¡°I ahh, I believe we will be quite fine in your absence.


    ¡°There is quite a lot I would like to speak with Miss Wren about.¡±

 Winging It 19-03

    So, I left Lion with Wren and the others so the Tech-Touched could compare notes, or whatever they were going to do. Part of me wished that I could stay there and hear all the things they were going to talk about, but I was sure most of it, if not all, would fly right over my head. Touched-Tech was fun, but man was it complicated. I had no idea how Wren kept herself focused long enough to do that stuff. Better if I sated my curiosity by asking for a summary later.


    Besides, it wasn¡¯t as though I was going to be bored. I had my own incredibly cool thing to do today. Namely, spend more time with Lucent. Which, jokes about my parentage aside, I really did think he was awesome. Seriously, the guy was a talking raven superhero. Silversmith might¡¯ve been my favorite Star-Touched before I knew the truth about my dad, but Lucent had always been pretty high up on the list as well. He was just really cool, and offering to give me pointers and just generally being willing to spend time with me was¡­ yeah, it meant a lot. Enough that I kept ignoring the repeated insistent whispering warnings in the back of my head about how wary I should be and that I should stay away from people like that. Yes, it was very unlikely that he was secretly linked to my parents, but still. It wasn¡¯t impossible, and they could be using him to poke at ¡®Paintball¡¯ and get information. I had to be very careful about all this.


    All of that was fresh in my mind, having a duel with the part of me that just thought this whole thing was awesome, as I landed lightly on the roof of the grocery store where we had arranged to meet. Looking around, I didn¡¯t see him, but figured he would be around shortly since I had already sent a text message that I was on my way. Being a bird, of course, he couldn¡¯t carry a phone around with him. But I had been assured that any messages sent to that number would be relayed to him, and messages sent back were at the very least dictated by him.


    Sitting with my back to the nearby air conditioning unit, I took out my phone to see a few messages. The first was from Lucent himself, letting me know that he would be there soon. Meanwhile, the other two were from Peyton and Amber. First, my new partner said she had to help her mother with some stuff at the store and other errands before heading over to Wren¡¯s. And also that if I let Lion leave before she could meet her, she would punch me very hard.


    The message from Amber (well technically from That-A-Way since she sent it from her Touched phone to mine), on the other hand, was all about how she had something she wanted to talk to me about. Apparently that wasn¡¯t an emergency or anything, but she thought it was important to share whenever I had a chance. With an added bit about how she was supposed to go on patrol with Syndicate this evening, and she¡¯d let me know how that went. I had the sneakiest suspicion that it was really hard for her to hold in talking about all the stuff that had been dumped on her. She needed someone to talk to about it, someone to unload on.


    ¡°Jae! Jae, come on!¡±


    Speaking of people that Amber should have been able to talk to, the voice calling from below snapped me out of my drifting thoughts by calling that name. Carefully, I slid over and peeked down below. A woman was standing in front of the store entrance, looking back impatiently into the shop. ¡°We don¡¯t have all day for this, not if we want to welcome your father back properly.¡±


    It had to be a different Jae, right? That wasn¡¯t¨Cbut no, even as I had that thought, the girl in question emerged into view. It was her. She was wearing a light raincoat with the hood up, and what I was pretty sure were sunglasses from the very slight bit I managed to see. All to protect herself from the bright, glaring rays of the warm sun. Oh, and she was carrying several heavy grocery bags full of what sort of looked like party supplies and treats.


    It was hard to hear her response from here, given how quietly the other girl spoke. But it must have been an apology, because the woman beside her (a very artificially bleached-blonde woman with what seemed like more plastic surgeries than sense) smiled and squeezed her shoulder (her own arms, I noticed, were almost empty aside from a couple bags in her other hand). ¡°I know, I know, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m just overly-excited about your father coming home. We have to make it special for him, you know? He goes to so many exotic places, we have to make him enjoy being home too. You don¡¯t want him to find more excuses to stay away, do you?¡±


    I had always known that Jae was adopted. Her and all her siblings had been taken in from different families and situations, by a semi-famous television actress and a successful director-producer. But eventually, the woman who had actually taken Jae and the others in had passed away, and their father had remarried. To this lady, apparently. Plus, I was pretty sure her adopted siblings had all moved out by now. Did that mean that Jae spent most of her time living alone in that house with only this woman? Eesh, no wonder she spent time with Amber.


    Speaking of which, too bad the person Amber talked to about all her feelings couldn¡¯t be Jae. They seemed like pretty good friends when we were at school. Then again, I knew a fair bit about having school friends without letting them actually get close to me. Hell, I wasn¡¯t even sure the other girl actually knew about Amber being Touched in the first place, let alone all this extra stuff. That was one of those personal questions I didn¡¯t feel comfortable asking about. No matter how curious I was, it just wasn¡¯t fair to put Amber in that position.


    In any case, Jae¡¯s stepmother (adopted stepmother?) didn¡¯t seem like the best person to spend time with. Especially considering she seemed to be treating the girl more like a pack mule than a daughter. She was barely carrying any bags, while Jae was loaded down with them. And she wondered why the other girl was moving slower. It wasn¡¯t actually wicked stepmother vibes, but more like¡­ thoughtless. That was the impression I got while watching the two interact below me. She wasn¡¯t actively, intentionally bad. She was just¡­ she wasn¡¯t a mother, that was for sure. As I watched the two head out toward a car, it felt more like the woman saw Jae and herself as peers, as if they were both students and she was the rich, popular girl who could get the unpopular, smart girl Jae to do her work for her by being ¡®nice.¡¯ I wasn¡¯t sure why that was the analogy that jumped into my head, but once I had the thought, it solidified pretty quickly.


    I was about to turn back to watch for Lucent, when something at the corner of my eye caught my attention. A car was coming around the corner of the parking lot aisle close to where Jae and her stepmother were walking, turning in their direction. The driver and passenger were turned around in their seats, focusing on something in the back of the car while coming smoothly around the corner without even looking. The car wasn¡¯t exactly speeding, but it was still going too fast for the two down there to get out of the way in time. In a second, they would both be hit by it. Unless¡­


    Activating two purple stars that I had already put on my ankles, I launched myself outward, twisting in the air while pointing down to shoot yellow paint at the car from one hand and red paint at Jae and her stepmother with the other. The yellow paint I activated immediately, slowing it down. The two women were just reacting to being hit by the red paint, as I twisted slightly more in mid-leap, sending another shot of red to hit a parked car nearby. Instantly, I activated both red bits, yanking the two of them off their feet and sending them flying over several yards before they hit the parked car, stumbling against it just as the yellow-slowed vehicle went through the spot where they had just been walking. The car slowed (this time naturally rather than from paint), the driver seeming to realize belatedly what had almost happened, then suddenly accelerated as he panicked and took off.


    Landing on the top of a nearby light pole by that point, I stared after the car briefly before focusing on the people below me as I called down, ¡°Boy, Sunday drivers, huh? You guys okay?¡±


    ¡°Oh my God, oh my God.¡± The woman was patting herself down, looking at Jae. ¡°Are you okay? Did it hit you, are you¨C¡± She was still checking herself over with one hand while reaching out to pat the other girl down as well. Which, for all I could say about her not treating Jae like a daughter, at least she expressed concern for her after something like that.


    Jae had been staring at me, but shook it off and quietly informed the woman that she was fine. Then she turned to look at the pavement behind them, where their bags of groceries had been dropped, scattered, and run over.


    Seeing that, I grimaced and hopped down, landing smoothly nearby. ¡°Sorry about that, I couldn¡¯t really figure out how to get you and the bags out of the way easily.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Sorry?¡± the woman shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t you apologize young man. You saved our lives!¡± Her voice squeaked a bit, the shock still clearly high in her system. ¡°That¨Cthat¨Cif you hadn¡¯t¨Cthank you. We can buy more stuff, we can buy more of it. But you¨Cif you weren¡¯t here¡­ may I hug you?¡± She was trembling a little.


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± That was as much as I managed to get out before she did just that, embracing me tightly while repeatedly stammering her gratitude. Behind her, Jae stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot while giving me a hesitant nod.


    ¡°Oh! Oh, how stupid of me.¡± Quickly releasing me from the embrace, the woman stepped back. ¡°Ahem, I¡¯m Kella Song. Yes, that Kella Song, from Seven¡¯s Company. I can sign anything you like. And this is Jae Baek, my ahhh¡­ stepdaughter.¡± Clearly, the word daughter had stuck in her throat. She could barely get it out, sounding like she was saying a dirty word. Not because she had anything against the girl herself, I realized. But because she was still clinging to the one bit of success she¡¯d had in her career while acting. Yeah, I remembered Seven¡¯s Company. Not that I¡¯d seen more than a couple episodes, but I did know enough to realize the woman in front of me had been in her mid-teens at the time, and had barely been out of high school when it went off the air. That was her big claim to success, a show that had been done with for what had to be fifteen or sixteen years by now. She desperately wanted to hold on to what she had been back then, and acknowledging the fact that she was taking care of a daughter, even a stepdaughter, who was the same age she had been back when her career had seemed ready to skyrocket¡­ yeah, that had to be hard, especially for someone like her.


    All those realizations had flashed through my mind while Jae awkwardly thanked me for being there. My mouth opened to tell both of them that it was no big deal, when we were interrupted by the sound of a voice calling out from the doorway. ¡°My God, are you alright?!¡±


    It was the manager of the store. He came rushing out, apologizing repeatedly for what had happened in his parking lot despite the fact that it definitely wasn¡¯t his fault. The man was tall and stocky, with salt and pepper hair and a ruddy complexion. He introduced himself as Carl, thanking me over and over for being there, and offering to call the cops for Jae and Kella.


    Maybe it was bad, but I sort of expected Jae¡¯s stepmother to lambaste the man or try to take advantage of the situation in some way. Instead, she told him they were fine and that he shouldn¡¯t worry about it. Still, the man insisted on replacing the groceries that had been broken and scattered when the bags fell everywhere. He and Kella started inside to deal with that, apparently having forgotten that Jae was still standing there amidst the mess.


    ¡°Uh, here, I¡¯ll help you pick those up,¡± I announced, starting to collect the stuff out of the street. A few of the things had already been completely smashed from cars pulling through, though most of the vehicles pulled around.


    ¡°Oh, you¡­ don¡¯t have to¡­¡± Trailing off, Jae hesitated before stooping to pick the stuff up too. One of the cart collector employees jogged over, and soon we¡¯d picked up everything that had fallen. Most of it went in a nearby trash can, while a few things were able to be taken back inside. As the guy thanked us for the help and headed in with that, I looked to the girl beside me. Belatedly, I had to remind myself that I wasn¡¯t supposed to know her, and cleared my throat. ¡°Ahh, you okay then¡­ Miss?¡±


    Her head bobbed quickly, voice soft. ¡°Thank you.¡± Visibly hesitating, she finally added, even more quietly, ¡°What were you doing here? Is¡­ there a bad guy around?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, no.¡± I shook my head while wondering yet again how much she knew about Amber. If she knew that her friend was That-A-Way, did she think that the other girl might be around here somewhere? ¡°I was just, uh, you know, hanging out. You uhh¡­¡± I hesitated, stuck on thinking about what she might know already.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she interrupted my musing to gently inform me, ¡°you can ask.¡±


    Wait, what? Did she know what I was thinking somehow? Could she¨Chow did¡­ ¡°Ask?¡± I blankly echoed, just to have actually said something while she was staring at me.


    ¡°I¡¯m albino,¡± came the response as she gestured to her own pale complexion and very light hair. ¡°Albino Asian. I know it¡¯s weird.¡± Her voice was a flat mutter, making it clear that she was just repeating what she heard all the time. I knew she heard it all the time, because I had been there many of those times.


    Oh. Oh crap, while I was trying to decide if she knew about Amber, she thought I was staring at her because of the¨Coh. Damn it. Quickly, I shook my head. ¡°No, no, I mean, that¡¯s not what I was¨CI mean I wasn¡¯t¨Cthat¡¯s not¨Cit¡¯s not weird. It¡¯s different. It¡¯s not¨Cit¡¯s no big deal.¡± Great, Cassidy, fantastic. Totally and completely smooth. You¡¯re not biffing this interaction at all.


    The other girl raised an eyebrow, her dubious expression clear, though she seemed grateful that I wasn¡¯t being completely hostile. Probably just figured I was more accidentally rude rather than outright antagonistic.


    Before either of us could say anything else, however, a crowd of people started to approach. They had been gradually gathering by the doors of the store, apparently trying to figure out if I was the real thing or just some normal person cosplaying. Which, for the record, was an option that still blew my mind. There were much better people than me to dress up as.


    Either way, they approached and started to ask for autographs, when a dark shadow flew down out of the sky and landed on the nearby metal bar along the side of the shopping cart corral. It was Lucent, and his presence only made people gather around us faster. They might have thought I was cool, but he was on a completely different level. Which was fair, considering he was a talking raven with superpowers. I couldn¡¯t really compete with that.


    Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t there for a social call. Or even just to see what I was doing rather than waiting for him on the roof. Instead, the bird looked straight to me. ¡°Pardon the interruption, fine people! Paintball, might I request your assistance? The car that narrowly avoided such a terrible calamity moments ago appears to be part of a¡­ situation down the street.¡±


    ¡°A situ¨Cyeah. Sorry, guys, we¡¯ll see you another time!¡± Waving to the crowd before looking at Jae, I added, ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay. And hey, good luck at your dad¡¯s welcome home party.¡± With that, I used blue paint to launch myself upward, Lucent flying after me. The crowd called out an assortment of things, holding up their phones to take pictures and video. But I was mostly focused on my new companion. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I managed while landing on the roof of the store with my wheels out to glide along it, not wanting to give up any momentum.


    ¡°There is a bank at the end of the street,¡± Lucent informed me while gliding just overhead. ¡°I had intended to give the driver of that vehicle a good scolding. But it appears they are waiting in the back for companions within who are engaged in, shall we say, an illicit withdrawal. Others have been alerted, yet are too far away or occupied with other situations. Tis not exactly the training I had intended for today, yet if you are amenable to a¡­ I believe the correct term is ¡®team-up?¡¯¡±


    Well, that was a surprise. The car that had almost run over Jae and Kella was involved in a bank robbery? No wonder the driver was distracted and didn¡¯t bother to stop. Though actually, come to think of it, shouldn¡¯t that make them drive a lot more carefully so they wouldn¡¯t attract attention? Maybe this was a bad getaway driver.


    Either way, we reached the end of the building and I used red paint on the one next door to yank myself that way. I could see the bank in question on the corner while flying through the air. There didn¡¯t seem to be anything hinky going on from the outside. Not yet, anyway. But I trusted Lucent to know what he was talking about. He could probably see through the windows better than I could. The building itself was a three-story red brick thing, with a narrow one lane drive-through connected to the alley, and a small parking lot that wrapped around the opposite side and into the back. And sure enough, as I launched myself through the air to land on the roof of the building directly next to the bank, I could see the car from before idling right by the marked employee exit, pointed toward the next street over. They were clearly ready to bolt out of there.


    Crouching down on the edge of the roof and peering that way, I hesitated before asking, ¡°Okay, so how do you want to play this?¡± Lucent had a lot more experience and seniority in the whole Star-Touched situation. I was going to follow his lead. Especially when it came to something like an actual ongoing bank robbery.


    He, in turn, landed next to me and cocked his head a bit, looking between the car and the bank. ¡°¡®Twould be best to have some measure of what is happening inside before leaping to actions that may endanger civilians. Perhaps¨Cah, assistance.¡±


    He was looking back the way we had come, and I turned to see a familiar figure. Carousel, from the Minority. She wore the same full gold, silver, and purple robe and hood, with a matching jester¡¯s mask. Oh, and she was crossing the street in the air from the other roof, like I had. But rather than having paint pull her, she was using her own power. In this case, she had what appeared to be a park bench, a chair, and a garbage can. They were pulled in by her power, miniaturized to spin around her in orbit. She would jump, make one of the objects resume its normal size just long enough to land on it, jump off it while shrinking it back down and making the thing spin around her again, return the next object to its normal size, land on that before jumping off it, and repeat. She did that all the way through the air from the other roof to this one, crossing high above the street before landing smoothly.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I managed, ¡°you would be amazing at playing the floor is lava.¡±


    ¡°I heard you were stopping a robbery,¡± she replied, ¡°Not one to engage in snobbery, I thought an alliance was due. To turn a pair into few.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Lucent agreed. ¡°I had thought it would be only the two of us. Yes, we would quite welcome your assistance, Carousel. Your aid is as welcome as your delightful balladry. Now come¡­


    ¡°Let us discuss how to safely detain these scoundrels.¡±

 Winging It 19-04

    Right, so there was some sort of bank robbery going on, and I was supposed to help stop it alongside Lucent and Carousel. Talk about an eclectic group, huh? One independent Star-Touched alongside one of the Minority, and a TONI from the Seraphs. The three of us were going to go in there and stop this bank robbery. It sounded like the setup for a weird joke.


    I said as much to the other two while we were quickly planning what to do, and Carousel immediately replied, ¡°As we give them a poke, they¡¯ll think it¡¯s a joke. But they¡¯ll see their mistake, when in jail they awake. I don¡¯t have my team, but this¡­¡± She gestured around in a circle to indicate the three of us. ¡°Helps my esteem.¡±


    ¡°I could not have said it better myself,¡± Lucent announced. ¡°At least, not without a thesaurus or a rhyming dictionary. Bravo, my dear. But for now, I believe our best way forward is to carefully prepare the field out here. Paintball, would you mind quietly laying several spots of your wonderful yellow paint onto the vehicle down there without alerting anyone within? In case they flee, it would be good to be able to slow them down. Meanwhile, I shall fly closer and get a look at what is happening within, before preparing to hasten their retreat. Carousel, position yourself there, on the narrow section of roof just above the exit where they are sure to pass under you. Be ready to remove their weapons as they come within range, to prevent any unfortunate incidents as they endeavor to make their escape. And perhaps a¡­ bouncy section of sorts on the way to the car?¡± He looked at me then. ¡°As well as anything else you can think of to slow them down or disrupt their escape. Once everything is in place, I shall see about driving them out toward the two of you, safely away from any civilians within the bank.¡±


    ¡°A sign of when to commence,¡± Carousel noted, ¡°would make a good sort of sense.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, what she said,¡± I agreed. ¡°Should we give you a signal or something when we¡¯re ready?¡±


    Lucent gave a short, sharp nod, before looking at the spot of the roof next to me. A moment later, a statue copy of the raven appeared there, perched right on the edge. ¡°I shall watch through my friend here,¡± the TONI announced. ¡°Once you are both prepared for the men inside to be driven toward you, raise both hands in the, ahh, I believe it is referred to as the touchdown position. But be sure you are ready.¡±


    ¡°Right, prepping the battlefield,¡± I agreed. ¡°Or, you know, hopefully not an actual battle. A small, simple skirmishfield.¡± Squinting then, I turned to Lucent before remembering that he couldn¡¯t see my expression. So I painted a squinting emoticon-face across my helmet. ¡°Just answer me one thing. Is this bank owned by La Casa? Because the last time someone robbed a La Casa bank, it set something off, and I¡¯d really rather not go through that again.¡±


    I could hear the faint amusement in the bird¡¯s voice as he replied, ¡°I assure you, as far as I am aware, the bank is not owned or operated by any Fell-Touched.¡±


    ¡°The other sort of knaves,¡± Carousel murmured, ¡°who turn poor to slaves from birth to graves.¡±


    ¡°Someday,¡± I informed her, ¡°I¡¯m going to figure out why you do that.¡± It obviously wasn¡¯t a priority right that second with the actual bank robbery going on, but seriously. I had no idea how she pulled out those rhymes so easily and quickly. Or why she did so in the first place. She stuck to it very firmly. I didn¡¯t recall ever hearing the girl talk without rhyming. In most cases, I¡¯d say that would be a detriment for team communication, but it didn¡¯t seem to slow her down at all.


    Carousel, in turn, simply stared at me with that broadly smiling jester¡¯s mask. I had no idea if the girl behind it was actually smiling or not, but I had the feeling she was.


    ¡°A mystery to be pondered another time, I fear,¡± Lucent reminded us. ¡°Be swift in your preparations, I shall endeavor to drive the foes your way once you raise the sign.¡± With that, he took off, flying around to the front of the building.


    Okay, yeah, time to focus. We needed to get down there and set things up before those guys came out on their own. Trying to play catch-up with them already outside would be a huge pain.


    Looking over to the Minority girl, I offered, ¡°Want a lift? It¡¯ll probably be a bit quicker and more subtle. Not that your way isn¡¯t super cool, believe me.¡± She had been making the bench and other things revolve around her in miniature form (they were about the size of matchbooks) the whole time we were standing there. Which I supposed meant she didn¡¯t have to focus on them at all once they were in place. Again, pretty cool. But I had a feeling the guys waiting in the car below might notice her unique way of getting across the gap to the other building. This whole plan of ours wouldn¡¯t work nearly as well if they had advance warning. It could devolve into a real clusterfuck pretty quick if we weren¡¯t careful. The best advantage we had here (well, besides our powers) was the element of surprise. It¡¯d be pretty dumb to throw that away before the fight even started.


    She agreed, so I painted my arm purple and put it around her. She held onto me a bit awkwardly given our height discrepancy, and I silently hoped she didn¡¯t notice anything she shouldn¡¯t. Not that I had much for her to notice, but still. After checking to see what her orbiting items did (they expanded their revolution to encircle both of us), I used a blue puddle to launch high into the air to get above the field of view for the guys below, then red painted us over to the other roof. On the way down, I shot a black owl symbol at the bricks and tiles just before we landed there, our arrival completely silent. There was even a pigeon perched nearby that didn¡¯t react to our landing. Though it did happen to turn its head a second later and launch itself into the air as soon as it saw us so close. I think we gave the poor thing a little pigeon heart attack.


    From this position, on the narrow section of roof just above the door, we could see the car a bit better. Sure enough, there were two guys sitting in it. The driver had one hand on the wheel while his other was resting out the open window with a cigarette in it. The other guy was in the front passenger seat, tapping a pistol against the roof rhythmically with the music they were listening to. They both had ski masks on, but other than that they seemed pretty casual about the whole thing. Well, beyond the fact that they were looking around a lot. They just weren¡¯t looking up. Which seemed like a pretty big oversight in a city like this. Or really any city, these days. Not that I was going to complain about their mistake.


    Either way, the point was, they weren¡¯t paying enough attention to notice our arrival. Carousel and I took a moment to make sure of that, peeking over the edge and watching them carefully until it was clear they had no clue we were there. Then the two of us exchanged nods before I got to work. With Carousel watching my back, I leaned out and pointed, sending a shot of paint toward the car. But it wasn¡¯t yellow. Not that first shot. Instead, I hit the car with a bit of black. I figured it would be better to make only one audible shot, activate the silencing effect, and then hit the car with as many spots of yellow as I could. Not that my paint was exactly loud to begin with, especially considering the music they were listening to. But still, better safe than sorry.


    I lined the roof of the car with yellow circles and triangles, as well as a bit on the tires. Then I rethought things a little and put some red on the tires as well, before adding a couple matching spots against the wall nearby. Finally, I put down the blue bit on the sidewalk right below the exit door, painting that whole square. It was a toss-up whether they¡¯d even notice in what would probably be a rush to get out, but at that point it wouldn¡¯t really matter.


    ¡°If you had to,¡± I whispered, ¡°could you pick up that car?¡±


    ¡°Not with it occupied,¡± she whispered right back. ¡°It¡¯s something I¡¯ve tried. But when it comes to something alive, my gift just does not thrive.¡±


    ¡°Right, can¡¯t use your power on the car when they¡¯re inside it, but if they get out, you could take it away from them.¡± Keeping that in mind, I gave the area one more quick once-over before looking to her. ¡°I think we¡¯re ready.¡± When she gave me a thumbs up, I focused on the bird statue I could see staring down at us, raising both arms in the touch-down sign. After a moment of that, the bird turned its head to focus on the car. Which I supposed meant he¡¯d seen me.


    Sure enough, within a few seconds, we started hearing sounds from within the bank. It started with a surprised shouted curse, then a single gunshot. As soon as I heard it, my heart jumped into my throat. But I trusted Lucent to know what he was doing, particularly in a situation like this. After all, he¡¯d been doing the whole Star-Touched thing a lot longer than me. And longer than Carousel, come to think of it. Still, the two of us exchanged glances, and while I couldn¡¯t see the other girl¡¯s face through that jaunty, garishly painted jester¡¯s mask, I had the feeling that she was worried too. But we stayed put, just as planned.


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    Meanwhile, the guys in the car were cursing as well. I heard one of them ask what ¡®those dumbasses¡¯ were doing, and that they weren¡¯t supposed to use the guns. That prompted a brief argument about whether one of them should go inside to check, but neither wanted to be the one to get out of the car, just in case the other took off without them. From that brief exchange, I had the feeling these guys neither knew nor trusted each other very much. Which begged the question of why they were robbing a bank together, unless they were hired by a third party?  There wasn¡¯t time to think much about that. Nor was there time for the guys in the car to stop arguing, before the door directly below Carousel and me burst open, and three guys came running out. The one in the lead was shouting something about ¡®that fucking bird¡¯ in between screaming for the driver to get them out of there. Meanwhile, the two behind were pivoting to shoot back into the bank with their own guns. All three carried large black garbage sacks that had been stuffed full with what seemed to be cash.


    Immediately, Carousel and I went to work. I activated the blue paint, launching the three men into the air with a collection of screams. On their way up, the girl beside me used her own power, yanking the bags of money and guns out of their hands before bringing them, miniaturized, into her orbit alongside the bench, chair, and trash can. The air around her was getting a bit crowded.


    Just as I had that thought, it became slightly less crowded as she sent the trash can flying into one of the men in midair, nailing him while he was falling. He landed on the ground with a groan, lying under the can before shoving it off.


    Meanwhile, the other two had sprawled out on the ground. Both scrambled up to run for the car, but it was already starting to take off. With a squeal of tires, the driver started to peel out. Which, of course, was when I activated several spots of the yellow paint, slowing the thing down. The timing worked out just right so that the guys outside, scrambling in a rush to jump at the car, ended up bouncing right off it as its speed abruptly and unexpectedly halved. They both collided with the trunk and rolled off it to either side with a pair of curse-yelps.


    Taking a quick step forward, I launched myself with a bit of blue on my shoes. Flipping over in the air, I landed in front of the car and waved before scolding, ¡°Now did you walk out of there without even listening to the spiel about special interest rates for one of their credit cards? You know how hard they work on those things.¡±


    The driver and his companion looked at each other, then floored the gas once more. Which might¡¯ve been bad, considering even slowed by half, being hit by a car would¡¯ve hurt. But at that exact same instant, I activated the red paint I¡¯d put on the front left and rear left wheels, sending the whole vehicle sliding sideways to slam against the wall of the bank.


    By that point, the three guys on the ground had picked themselves up. But one of them immediately went down again as a concussive energy blast from one of the bird statue¡¯s eyes slammed into him from way up on the other roof. The other two whirled toward me while yanking what looked like knives (really?) from their belts, only to be hit from the side by a full-sized park bench shot at them by Carousel. They all went down hard, groaning in pain as the bench tumbled away to land on its side. At the same time, the knives they had pulled were yanked away, shrinking to join the spinning objects surrounding the girl as she advanced toward them.


    Meanwhile, I caught a glimpse of the guy in the passenger side of the wrecked car shoving his way out with his own gun raised. Instantly, I activated blue paint I had reapplied to my shoes and sent myself up and backwards, flipping over in the air before landing on the roof of the vehicle. ¡°Hey!¡± I blurted, falling onto my side and lashing out with one foot while activating an intricately detailed purple fist across my left shoulder. ¡°This is a no-items brawl!¡± The kick collided with the gun, knocking it out of the man¡¯s hand and sending it flying away. ¡°Tournament rules! Three stock, no items, stage hazards and smash meter off!¡±


    The man shouted an emphatic curse that also included the words ¡®shoot him¡¯, so I flipped up and over once more, landing in front of him in time to see the other guy (in the driver¡¯s seat) pointing his gun upward where I had just been. ¡°Okay,¡± I acquiesced, ¡°maybe one Smash.¡± With that, still empowered by the purple paint for another second or two, I slammed both palms into the passenger¡¯s chest to knock him back into the car and against the other guy. As he rocked forward once more, I reared back and kicked the door to slam it shut on him. ¡°Or two!¡±


    Then I dropped and rolled under the car, as both men bellowed in rage before shoving the door open once more and throwing themselves out after me, very intent on making me pay. They turned and looked down to see my head sticking out from under the car, staring up at them. I painted a broad smiling face on my helmet. ¡°That thing I said about no stage hazards? I might¡¯ve lied about that too.¡± The smiley face turned into a red arrow, pointing behind them. They reflexively turned their heads to look, just before Carousel¡¯s trash can slammed into them, knocking both men forward against the car with a pair of screamed curses. Potty mouths, honestly.


    By then, I had pushed myself out from under the car, pivoting on one foot to shoot a bit of pink paint against the side of the vehicle from either hand before the two men could push themselves away from it. Then I reached out, shoved both hands into the pink paint, and used that to tear the metal outward, bending it over from both sides to wrap around the men. By the time they started to push away from the car, the men were thoroughly trapped, with half the passenger side of the car wrapped around them.


    With that done, I spun back toward the rest of the scene. But it was already over. Carousel had finished up with cuffing the last of those guys, with a little help from the Lucent statue to keep them from fighting back too much. She straightened up from them and brushed her glove hands off before looking toward me. ¡°The foes are detained, their bounty regained.¡± As she said that last part, the girl indicated the trash bags sitting nearby, full of cash. ¡°But where is our mentor? Still through that door.¡± Her gaze was clearly on the rear entrance of the bank.


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s right, he never came out.¡± Frowning, I looked briefly toward the bird statue in the distance. I really had my doubts that he would have simply left us to wrap things up here with only a little help from that thing if he¡¯d had any choice. And the fact that he had only meant one thing.


    ¡°There¡¯s something going on inside,¡± I blurted, before abruptly rushing that way. The guys out here could wait. The two at the car were securely trapped against it by the metal of the vehicle itself, and the rest of them were held by those stay-down cuffs. They weren¡¯t going anywhere.


    Carousel was right behind me after giving her own brief look around, as though to assure herself the bad guys were contained. The two of us paused right at the open exit door rather than barging straight in. I was really tempted to keep rushing through, but that would have been stupid. Worried as I was about Lucent at that moment, getting ourselves in trouble by bursting into a potentially bad situation wasn¡¯t going to help anything.


    So, we stopped on either side of the doorway, peering in. There was a short, very utilitarian-looking hallway beyond. This obviously wasn¡¯t in the customer area of the bank. The floor was simple linoleum that had been very thoroughly scrubbed with lemon-scented cleaner, with wooden doors along the right side of the corridor with names and positions stenciled onto black bars across the middle, interrupted by two doors labeled for male and female restrooms. Straight ahead at the end of the hall was another door that had ¡®Customer Zone ¨C Remember Our P¡¯s And Q¡¯s ¨C Polite, Personable, Quiet, Qourteous¡¯ written on a sign. Which was¨Cwow.


    Shaking off my reaction to that, I gave the other girl a thumbs up before heading in. The two of us moved quickly, but quietly.  Whatever had stopped Lucent from joining us, we didn¡¯t want it to know we were coming.


    In the end, however, all our precautions turned out to be pointless. We peeked through with the door there to find Lucent simply perched on top of a desk in the middle of the main lobby, staring at something. His head turned as we stepped in, and he called out, ¡°Ah, there you are. Apologies, there were a few more in the lobby here that had to be dealt with, and by then you were finished with those who fled. My kingdom for duplicates that could actually move closer to you. Alas, tis not to be.¡± He heaved a sigh before turning back to stare at something behind the desk. ¡°Come, look here.¡±


    Carousel and I exchanged brief, silent looks before heading that way. We walked around the big desk to see what he was looking at. On the way, I noticed a couple more unconscious figures with the same ski masks, still lying where Lucent had obviously hit them.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hole,¡± Carousel announced once we saw what was behind the desk, ¡°but the men took a stroll.¡±


    Sure enough, there was a wide hole right there in the middle of the tile floor. It cut straight down into what turned out to be a vault room in the basement (including going through the thick walls surrounding that), then even further through the floor in that.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Lucent confirmed. ¡°Though what the men you captured took seems to be a paltry sum compared to what was contained within that vault. I believe what we are witnessing is two robberies in one. The first, those men, were a distraction, allowing our tunnelers time to bore straight through, take what they wanted and escape.¡±


    ¡°Do you think they¡¯ve already gotten away?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Only one way to find out,¡± he informed me, head cocking to the side briefly before turning back to focus on the hole. ¡°Their hostages are in the conference room down that hall. With the authorities on their way, they should be safe.


    ¡°Which leaves us to pursue our quarry,¡± Carousel noted, ¡°and discover the truth of this story.¡±


    ¡°Well what are we waiting for?¡± I quickly put in.


    ¡°Last one in the hole¡¯s a rotten egg.¡±

 Winging It 19-05

    Two things happened right after I said the thing about the rotten egg. First, Lucent totally snaked any chance I had of beating him by simply dropping straight through the hole, wings tucked tight to his sides as he dove before catching himself in the air within the vault itself, calling up that the coast was clear. And second, I looked at the girl next to me and realized, ¡°Oh yeah, you¡¯d probably like some help getting down there, huh?¡±


    ¡°Thanks so much, but no,¡± came her melodic reply, ¡°I¡¯ll see you below.¡± With that, three nearby desk chairs came flying over to her, shrinking down before entering a tight orbit around the girl in miniature form. Then she simply hopped down through the hole, shooting one chair at a time downward, allowing it to grow to its normal size just long enough to step on before bringing it back into her orbit in mini-form. She slowed her fall repeatedly that way. The chair would be falling downward, but when she used her power to pull it back up into her orbit, there was a brief instant where it was still full-sized and traveling upward. That gave Carousel a chance to repeatedly land on chairs that were coming upward rather than falling downward, slowing her fall enough to drop through the hole in the vault ceiling and land smoothly within.


    ¡°Okily dokily,¡± I managed, shaking my head before painting my legs orange as I dropped through the hole. ¡°I guess I¡¯m the rotten egg then.¡±


    I fell through the hole into the vault, and caught myself right on the edge of the hole at the bottom, which led deeper underground. Perched there and looking down, I could see the way it immediately curved into a tunnel leading out from the bank. The tunnel was tall and wide enough, once it went down and leveled out, for a full grown man of slightly over average size to walk through it.


    Meanwhile, a quick glance around showed that the vault had been ransacked. There were dozens of metal doors leading to separate boxes within the vault. Most of them had been broken open. Whatever contents had been inside them was gone.


    Carousel spoke up, voice curious. ¡°Those responsible here were quite creative, though I doubt their friends are appreciative.¡±


    I nodded, already moving to peer down into the tunnel. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m gonna guess they used those guys as a distraction. Probably hired them or something.¡± Looking up then, I added, ¡°So, are we going after them, or what?¡± Even as I said that, my hand moved up to activate the lights on the side of my helmet. Yeah, I had literal headlights thanks to Wren¡¯s forethought. I needed to thank that kid, yet again.


    The answer, of course, was that we were going after them. Especially since I had demonstrated that I had light. The three of us dropped into the hole. Lucent perched on top of my helmet so he wouldn¡¯t have to keep trying to fly in the narrow, enclosed tunnel.


    I was in the lead ahead of Carousel, thanks to those headlights. Together, with my bird-dad on my helmet, we trotted down the tunnel. I wanted to run faster, but Lucent insisted we be more careful. We didn¡¯t know what was going to be ahead of us, so we took it one step at a time.


    ¡°Won¡¯t they know they have to hurry?¡± Carousel pressed in a whisper. ¡°With that hole, they¡¯d need to worry.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t know that it has been found so soon,¡± Lucent informed us, his voice equally quiet. ¡°Before he was rendered unconscious, one of the uncouth men back there said something about covering the hole. I believe they intended to seal up the tunnel behind them in some way. Thus, I believe once they are a short distance away, the gentlemen will slow their retreat.¡±


    I nodded before adding, ¡°Besides, they¡¯re carrying all the crap they got out of the vault back there. That¡¯s got to slow them down a bit, right?¡±


    We all silently hoped I was correct about that while picking up the pace a little bit. Not outright running, but still moving faster. I dimmed the lights on my helmet down to just barely enough to see where we were going, not wanting to give the guys ahead of us too much warning.


    I had to say this much, whatever (or whoever) these guys were using to carve out their tunnel, it was really effective. This place was solid, and really long. I had been expecting it to take us barely outside of the bank property, but the tunnel just kept going. We had to have traveled at least a couple city blocks by this point. Was it just their attempt to get out of range of any police search above ground?


    At least we had oxygen. Every once in awhile, we would find a narrow hole leading upward at an angle. They were just wide enough to allow air into the tunnel, and probably looked like snake holes or something from the surface. So apparently these guys didn¡¯t want to suffocate either.


    Either way, we kept going. I was getting to the point of wondering if they were going to go all the way out of town or something, when we all abruptly heard voices ahead. Instantly, I turned off the headlights entirely, as we stopped to listen intently. It sounded like they were arguing about which way to go. A couple of the voices were saying that it was time to turn right, going by some sort of device they were using. They insisted that the thing, whatever it was, wanted them to make the turn. Meanwhile, several other voices argued that the thing was wrong and they still needed to go another hundred yards or so. The argument was getting pretty heated. Knowing how narrow the tunnel was, I could picture the five (or more) men in a line somewhere ahead of us. This was going to be complicated. After all, they probably had guns. And, come to think of it, they had something that could casually dig out hundreds of feet of dirt and rock. I didn¡¯t want to think about what something like that could do to a person it was turned onto. And I wasn¡¯t sure if my paint would protect against that. Not to mention, there wasn¡¯t much down here for Carousel to work with, beyond the three desk chairs she¡¯d pulled with us and whatever the men themselves had.


    Lucent¡¯s voice was a barely audible whisper, hopefully not carrying far enough for the arguing group further down the tunnel to hear anything. ¡°Allow me to proceed first and set several of my stationery companions in the place. While I am gone, Paintball, you should prepare yourself and Carousel with as many applications of paint enhancements as you can. If you have anything you may use to prepare flash effects with your white paint, that would be advisable as well.¡±


    He paused very briefly then before adding, ¡°I understand that this likely feels unnecessary, given we are almost certainly only facing a handful of what you would call Prevs, men without powers. But I assure you, even the most mundane of people can get a lucky shot with a gun, particularly when potential Touched-Tech is added into the equation. It is always best to proceed with more care and planning rather than less. Prepare for a fight and force your opponents to operate on your terms, not theirs. Better to be too ready rather than not ready enough.¡±


    With that, he hopped off my helmet and glided ahead. At least, I assumed he did. With the light off, I couldn¡¯t actually see, well, anything. It was completely pitch-black down here. Which was another reason I was pretty sure we weren¡¯t close enough for the arguing men to hear us, considering we couldn¡¯t see any light source they were using. They were just talking really loud. And why not? As far as they knew, they had no reason to be quiet. Which was a mistake we were hopefully going to make them choke on.


    Before I could wonder how I was going to paint Carousel when I couldn¡¯t see her, the girl put a hand on my shoulder. Apparently she had had the same thought and already solved it. And, judging from the sensation of something spinning past above my head, she¡¯d raised the orbit of the miniaturized chairs so they wouldn¡¯t crash into me.


    I spent the next few moments carefully painting orange, purple, and green spots over both of our costumes, covering every bit of space that I could. All of which went fine except for when I got to her jester¡¯s mask. When I went to touch that, she caught my wrist. Her grip wasn¡¯t painful, but it was firm. Dark as it was, I imagined I could almost actually see the mask itself as she stared at me. Then, with a grunt, she released my wrist and quietly murmured, ¡°Sorry, I guess I dislike being grabbed. Though it¡¯s not as bad as being stabbed.¡±


    I had a weird feeling there was more to it than that, but I couldn¡¯t exactly ask her right then. Hell, I didn¡¯t know how I would ever actually ask. But for the moment at least, we had to focus.


    So, I set that bit of strangeness aside and went back to putting on the paint. The whole time, I kept my ears open just in case the guys out there noticed Lucent setting up his statues. But their arguing continued unabated. Apparently a few of them didn¡¯t exactly believe the device they were using was infallible, while the other two trusted it implicitly. I wondered why they weren¡¯t just outvoted, but apparently this group didn¡¯t work off democracy rules. Or maybe there was someone else on their side we weren¡¯t hearing? Hell, maybe they were just better-armed. Whatever the reason, the arguing went on. Which was fine, because it gave us time to set things up. I finished putting the paint on both of us before Carousel made each chair grow and set it in front of me so I could add a bit of white to them. They could be our flash bombs.


    By that point, the arguing seemed to have finally come to a conclusion. They were going to turn right. Apparently those two had been more persuasive. Or just more stubborn. Whatever the reason, they were already starting to work on that. We could both hear a faint humming sound, accompanied by what sort of sounded like steam hissing. It was clearly whatever they had been using to make this tunnel, because the sound gradually started to get further away. They were moving on.


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    The next thing we knew, Lucent was giving a very soft throat-clearing to announce himself before flap-hopping up to land on my helmet once more. His voice was quiet. ¡°Now is the time, I believe. Carousel, draw them into following you by stealing what they have stolen. There is a short tunnel beyond their new turn, where they began to move on before coming back to that spot. Paintball and I shall move there and prepare to engage them from behind when they reenter this part of the tunnel. Draw them into a chase, then Paintball should use the blinding bombs he has hopefully created?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°She¡¯s got the chairs painted with it.¡± To Carousel, I added, ¡°As soon as you¡¯re ready to toss them once the guys are in the main tunnel, just shout something about bats. As soon as I hear that, I¡¯ll activate the paint and everyone should close their eyes for a second.¡± Even while saying that, I kept listening to the sound of the men and their humming-hissing tunneling device. They were moving pretty quickly, as far as tunneling went. Still close enough to hear, but we had to do this right now.


    Still not wanting to give away our presence with a light, I reached out to grab the other girl by the hand, whispering for her to come with me. Then I began to move completely blindly down the tunnel. It kept winding seemingly randomly back and forth, like whoever had made the tunnel had been drunk or something. But I moved just as quickly through the pitch-black tunnel as I had through the forest the other day. Soon, I was practically outright sprinting after activating a bit of black paint I had already put on both my feet and Carousel¡¯s so the men ahead of us wouldn¡¯t hear anything. For her part, the other girl seemed briefly surprised as I immediately began to move so quickly through the pitch-black tunnel while pulling her by the hand. But she didn¡¯t resist, and soon the two of us were catching up to where the men were, our approach completely silent.


    They certainly weren¡¯t being silent, though. With each step, the sound of the thieves bitching at each other (or just friendly ribbing, it was hard to tell) got louder, and soon we could see their lights in the distance. The glow illuminated where they had turned, playing off the corner of that new tunnel. Between their own voices and that of whatever they were using to tunnel, they probably would have had a hard time hearing me moving closer to begin with. Add in the black paint silencing our footsteps and they didn¡¯t have the slightest chance.


    Stopping on one side of the second tunnel entrance, I listened briefly before peeking. They were about sixty feet down. I could see all five men huddled up close in a narrow, single-file line. It was impossible to see what they were using to make the actual tunnel, but it looked like the person at the head of the line was holding something up, which was sending off¡­ vibrations or something. That was the source of the humming sound. The dirt and rock ahead of him was gradually disintegrating. That was the source of the steam-like hissing sound. The other four men were carrying very large duffle bags over their shoulders and clearly full backpacks. The spoils of their vault-heist, clearly.


    The main point was that none of them were looking this way. So I turned back to Carousel, squeezing her hand before leaning in very close to whisper, ¡°I¡¯ll make my headlights flash very dimly as soon as we¡¯re in position. That¡¯s when you go. As soon as I see you move, I¡¯ll give you some orange protection and green speed, just in case.¡±


    Even with the very dim light from the nearby men, I couldn¡¯t really see her face very well. Not that I would¡¯ve been able to see it anyway, given the mask (and that still somehow creeped me out a little bit). But she squeezed my hand in what I assumed was agreement. So I released her, renewed the black paint on myself, and gave one last peek to make sure no one was looking back toward the tunnel entrance before dashing silently across it to the other side. There was no cry of alarm, or reaction at all, so they hadn¡¯t noticed.


    Lucent was right, of course. There was a short tunnel continuing onward this way that went back maybe fifteen feet. Just enough for me to get fully out of sight. Apparently the men had started to continue on before the two who wanted to turn had gone back a bit.


    ¡°You are very good at operating in darkness,¡± Lucent whispered to me from his perch on my head. ¡°Does your helmet afford you special vision?¡± He was probably confused as to why I would have both visible lights and some form of dark vision in my helmet.


    Hesitating slightly, I shook my head. Now wasn¡¯t the right time to get into talking about my weird, secondary navigation power. It was more subtle here than in the forest, since there weren¡¯t a bunch of trees and boulders to run into. But I had still felt its influence helping me avoid tripping while dashing through the tunnel. Not to mention somehow knowing where every curve in the winding tunnel was. Maybe I should ask him sometime, given how much he probably knew about testing powers and such. Later though, we were kind of occupied at the moment.


    Crouching down here, I felt something by my foot. My hand reached out and I found one of Lucent¡¯s statues. Clearly, he had made it over here before and set up his little friends already.  I wasn¡¯t sure where the rest were, but I had no doubt they were lined up perfectly to hit these guys once they were in position.


    Here went nothing. Reaching up, I turned the lights on my helmet up just barely enough to be visible, an incredibly faint glow that hopefully wouldn¡¯t give the men in the other tunnel any warning. Then I turned it back off after a brief second and scrunched myself even tighter into the rear wall of the tunnel, willing myself to be as invisible as possible.


    Just as I was self-consciously wondering if I should use the light again just in case the other girl had not seen it, Carousel made her move. I caught a glimpse of her form moving before she entered the other tunnel. In that moment, I activated two spots of orange stars I had left on her shoulders.


    Abruptly, the girl¡¯s sing-song voice called out loudly. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should have those! Stealing is wrong, as every kid knows.¡±


    Her words were accompanied by several gasps and curses. Those same curses returned even louder as several of the bags the men had been carrying went flying back to where Carousel was, just before she dashed back into the other tunnel, out of their sight.


    ¡°Fucking¨Cwhat¡¯re you waiting for, get her!¡± One of the men shouted. ¡°Get that shit back, god damn it!¡± That was accompanied by confused words from the others about how she had followed them, whether there were others, and so on. But they didn¡¯t take the time to really think about that, being too intent on getting their stolen stuff back. Instead, they fell for the trap, running right out to chase after Carousel without even glancing in the direction of where Lucent and I were. Oh, and they definitely had guns, already raising them up as they came into view.


    Just as they entered the tunnel and turned, Carousel shouted, ¡°A hearty congrats, you¡¯re blind as bats!¡±


    In the illumination from the men¡¯s lights (they had them attached to their heads), I could see two different white-painted chairs go flying at them. Immediately, I activated the paint, sending out a blinding flash that made the men stagger backward while crying out in surprise. They fired off a few shots, but Carousel was still protected by the last couple seconds of the orange paint, even if they had gotten lucky enough to hit her. And the guns were mostly-silenced, so none of us were deafened in this narrow tunnel. Which was definitely a plus.


    With the men staggering and half-blind, Lucent made all of his statues (there were a half-dozen of them) spread throughout this section of tunnel open up with concussive blasts. Then I activated the purple, green, and orange paint on both myself and Carousel before the two of us really went to work.


    These guys? Yeah, they really didn¡¯t stand a chance. Hit from both sides, blinded, struck repeatedly by concussive blasts from little bird statues they couldn¡¯t even see, and so on? They collapsed like one of those cheap tents I had seen in the movies.


    Within what seemed like seconds, we had all the men on their stomachs, their weapons taken away while their wrists were either secured by a couple more stay-down cuffs that Carousel had left, or simply tied with strips torn from the straps of the backpacks and duffle bags they themselves had carried. They weren¡¯t going anywhere.


    Unfortunately, that was when the three of us collectively realized that we didn¡¯t have all of them.  There had been five men in that tunnel. But we only had four of them. With my headlights on, I looked toward Lucent and Carousel, all of us clearly having the same thought. Then we spun and raced to that side tunnel. It wasn¡¯t any deeper, and for a second I was afraid the man had somehow gotten around us and disappeared back the way we came. Then Carousel pointed upward, and I saw the hole in the corner of the ceiling. The guy didn¡¯t go further in, he went up with the tunneling machine, making a shaft upward. Which raised the question of how he actually climbed it, but we were going to ask him once we caught up.


    ¡°What do we do about those guys?¡± I asked, quickly looking back toward where we had left the other four trussed up. The two with stay-down cuffs wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere, of course. But the other two were simply tied at the wrists and ankles with straps.


    ¡°We shall return for them,¡± Lucent declared. ¡°For the time being, best to see where our remaining quarry has gone.¡± Belatedly, he added, ¡°I shall leave two of my statues present, to¡­ warn them should they attempt to flee. And should all else fail, the tracker I carry will bring allies to this place.¡±


    Okay, yeah, that worked. Looking toward Carousel, I quickly announced, ¡°I¡¯ll get up there, then yank you up with me as soon as I¡¯m high enough. Here, raise your arms, hands upward, palms out.¡± As she did that, I painted both her hands red. ¡°Be ready to be yanked,¡± I warned.


    With that, I painted blue under my feet and activated it to send myself flying upward into the chimney-like shaft. The gravity-boots kicked, sticking me against the wall of the shaft before I started crawling upward, staring ahead. In the distance, I could see what looked like sunlight, and crawled faster. Just a bit more, just a little bit further¡­


    There. The end of the shaft was right in view. Focusing downward, I slapped red paint against the wall just under my feet, before triggering both that and the paint I had left on Carousel¡¯s hands. Instantly, she was yanked upward, flying up the tunnel before catching herself against the walls of the shaft. Lucent was perched on her shoulder, curled in close to avoid being squished.


    ¡°Okay guys,¡± I murmured, ¡°here goes nothing.¡±


    With that, I flung myself up out of the shaft, activating a bit of orange paint once more, just in case. Carousel and Lucent were right behind me, as we landed in¡­  the middle of a parking lot?


    Oh yeah, and there was both good news and bad news. The good news was that we¡¯d found the guy we were after.


    The bad news was that he wasn¡¯t alone, and we were surrounded by what appeared to be over a dozen armed troops, all pointing their weapons at us.


    ¡°Well now,¡± a voice announced as a figure came to the head of the group. It was Sandon, leader of the Ninety-Niners. And these were her people.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t this a kick in the pants.¡±

 Winging It 19-06

    Well, so much for an easy training day with my bird-dad. First I had joined up with him and Carousel to stop what was supposed to be a simple bank robbery, only for that to turn out to be far more complicated than it appeared when we had to follow more of the bad guys down a super-efficiently built tunnel underground. And because it obviously wasn¡¯t enough that they would just be a few ambitious thugs with a tunnel-digging gun or something, it turned out that they (or the one who had escaped) had led us straight to Sandon and more of the Ninety-Niners. Who were now completely surrounding the three of us with their weapons raised and ready, because of course they were. This whole situation was just going truly swimmingly.


    Even while we were absorbing all that and taking in the situation, one of the men sputtered about how we¡¯d chased them all the way through the tunnel, how he barely escaped, and so on. He kept urging the rest of his gang to shoot us. My eyes centered on him, only to find a figure in brown pants, boots, a long brown jacket over a black shirt, and a brown helmet that left his lower face exposed while thick goggles covered his eyes. Oh yeah, and his hands were encased in heavy gauntlets with long metal claws on them, sort of like badger paws. He kept pointing those claws at us while stammering about how they all needed to do something.


    Yeah, I was getting the sneakiest suspicion that the men had not been using Touched-Tech to dig that tunnel. I had never seen or heard of this guy before, so he was clearly a new player. Or maybe he had come over from somewhere else. Either way, he was Touched himself in some way. Though whether digging was his power, or if he was Tech-Touched and the gauntlets were his invention, I wasn¡¯t sure. There was too much we didn¡¯t know. Which wasn¡¯t great, since everything I had read and seen said going up against Touched whose powers you knew nothing about was a bad idea.


    ¡°Undermine, shut up for a minute,¡± Sandon snapped, silencing the man instantly without even looking at him. Her gaze was locked on the rest of us as we stood there (well, Carousel and I stood there, while Lucent perched on my helmet). She seemed to be considering for a moment, even as the rest of her men kept their weapons pointed at us. They were clearly just waiting for the order to start firing. But wouldn¡¯t do so without their boss¡¯s direct orders. Lucky us.


    Even more lucky for us, one of the other men to one side tossed some kind of silver ball into the hole behind us. My gaze snapped that way just in time to see the ball give a popping sound before expanding into a concrete plug that completely sealed up the hole, blocking it.


    Well, that was just great. So much for any plan involving jumping right back into the tunnel. Damn bad guys and their ability to look ahead and anticipate the most patently obvious things.


    My eyes drifted back from the digger guy (Undermine, apparently, which seemed like an odd name to give a subordinate) to Sandon herself. She looked the same as the last time I had been around her, back during the big fight for the vials. She had a modernized, sort of science fiction-ish suit of armor with a lion¡¯s pelt attached to the back. There was no actual real head connected to it. Instead, Sandon¡¯s helmet/mask was lion-shaped to function as the head of the pelt, with the open mouth surrounding a black-tinted visor. The visor itself even had metal teeth along the edges, to really sell the effect. Beyond that, I couldn¡¯t see any details about what she looked like. I certainly couldn¡¯t see the bones that were attached to the inside of her armor, built into it. Every bone she touched gave her the strength of the person that bone belonged to. And since she made a point of getting pieces of bone from every person with enhanced strength that she could find¡­ yeah. Sandon was literally one of the strongest Touched in¡­ well, the state for sure. And she was pretty up there in the national rankings.


    ¡°You¡¯re very annoying, you know that?¡± the woman informed us with a flat voice. While speaking, she rubbed at the visor where her forehead would be. ¡°This was supposed to be a simple in-and-out. Make it look like a normal bank robbery on the outside while our new friend Undermine here takes a few men in to grab everything we need out of the vault. Wars are expensive, especially a war against people like Blackjack with his damn near unlimited funding. My people have mouths to feed. Wouldn¡¯t even have hurt anyone, really. But then you three had to go charging in and complicate the whole fucking business.¡±


    ¡°Ahem, language, please,¡± Lucent put in, his voice slightly chiding. ¡°Just because we happen to be on opposite sides of this issue is no excuse for creating such a hostile verbal environment for the youth. We should, after all, strive to show them a better example than that.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see her expression through the black visor, but from the way Sandon stared in silence at him for a moment, I had the feeling she was trying to decide if he had completely lost his mind. Which was fair, considering I had the same thought. I truly had no idea what he was thinking, or why he thought chastising the woman for her language was a good idea. Then I realized he wasn¡¯t actually that crazy. He was stalling, buying time. Not to mention distracting Sandon and throwing her off.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the woman finally muttered darkly while giving a look toward her crew, ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to watch my language while we decide exactly how fu¨Cpardon, screwed the three of you are.¡±  That, of course, prompted a round of the derisive chuckles from the men, who were still pointing weapons at us, clearly itching to start this fight. They were watching for the moment either their boss gave the signal, or one of us made a move. I had the feeling that if I were to so much as lift my hand, they would instantly start shooting before I could give a thumbs up.


    ¡°Are we though?¡± That was Carousel, her voice piping up into the silence that had followed those chuckles. She made a point of looking around, like she was searching for the bags that had been left in the tunnel beneath us. ¡°Where¡¯s your dough? This has been quite the show, but your funds are still low.¡± With an exaggerated shrug, she finished, ¡°Perhaps there is mining equipment you can borrow. Like a dozer, trencher, or backhoe.¡±


    Before Sandon could respond to that, the Undermine guy blurted, ¡°Fuck your rhymes, the second we¡¯re done with you, I¡¯ll open up the hole again and go right back down there to get the bags and my buddies. You got nothing we can¡¯t deal with.¡±


    ¡°Undermine,¡± Sandon half-snarled, ¡°I told you to shut your mouth. Don¡¯t make me say it a third time.¡± Her gaze snapped that way, the implication clear. She waited until the man gave a short, contrite nod before turning back to us. ¡°Never let it be said that I can¡¯t be reasoned with. I will give the three of you this one chance to walk away. Leave, and allow us to collect our spoils.¡±


    That prompted a low round of grumbling from the men who were pointing their weapons at us and clearly wanted a fight, but the woman that silenced that with a sharp look. Her words were flat. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I have bigger fish to fry than you. So take the offer. Turn around and walk away. Or fly, whatever you choose. Take the mulligan and try this whole fighting thing another time. Believe me, there will be plenty of chances for it.¡± Her chin rose as she focused on Lucent. ¡°You know it¡¯s a good offer, bird. You¡¯ve got two kids here with you and I have you surrounded. We have weapons, I¡¯m stronger than any of you, and you don¡¯t know what Undermine is capable of. Walking away and fighting another day is the best offer you¡¯re going to get.¡±


    Yeah, I couldn¡¯t say that she was exactly wrong about that. I had been spending these tense moments painting the inside of my costume as much as I could. Between that and the paint that had already been there, if a fight started, I would be at least mostly protected for a bit. And Carousel still had some paint I could activate if it came down to it. We weren¡¯t nearly as flat-footed as it might have appeared, even if this wasn¡¯t the best circumstance. If a fight started, we wouldn¡¯t be instantly taken apart. And yet, Sandon made some good points. She was stronger than any of us. My purple paint at its best probably couldn¡¯t do much against her. And she had Undermine, who could¨Cwell, who knew what he could do besides dig a tunnel. Which by itself could be pretty nasty, if he could use that to, like, put the holes directly under us while we were standing there or something. Again, we had no idea what he was capable of. Which was all before you even brought in all the extra armed troops she had with her. Troops who were just waiting to open fire. Yeah, this whole situation was pretty¡­ dangerous was a good word. It was pretty dangerous, preparation be damned. We might win a fight, but it wasn¡¯t guaranteed by any stretch of the imagination.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    And yet, if we walked away, we¡¯d just be leaving them to take off with everything they¡¯d taken out of that vault, and the other members of their gang we had left down there. It felt wrong to just let them win like that. Walking away without even trying to stop them? Yeah, the thought made my stomach roll a bit. But then, so did the idea of starting a fight right now. There were no good options, and it was clear that Sandon knew that. She wasn¡¯t directing her men to attack or anything. She was waiting, giving the three of us a few seconds to really consider everything. Which itself made me wonder. Was she just as hesitant about being able to easily win a fight too? Or was she really just trying to save effort and resources by giving us a chance to walk away? She was, after all, in the middle of a war against two different Fell-Gangs. And probably had to pay my family for the privilege of conducting it. No wonder she needed more funds.


    Finally, I managed to find my voice. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d be willing to be the ones who walked away from this and let us take those stolen things back where they belong?¡± Looking back and forth between the troops and their leader, I offered a shrug. ¡°No? Just checking.¡±


    Sandon took a step closer to me. I felt Lucent ready himself on my helmet, a sound of what I interpreted as a warning to the woman escaping him. She stopped, holding up both hands placatingly. ¡°Easy, bird. No one¡¯s starting anything. Not yet, anyway.¡± She focused on me then, voice lowering a bit dangerously. ¡°You¡¯ve had some success over the past couple of months, kid. Don¡¯t let it go to your head. Hell, you helping expose Pencil and Cup? That¡¯s some good stuff. They¡¯re fu¨Cpardon, freaking psychopaths. No one likes those two, or their sycophants. I enjoyed you pulling the rug out from under them. That¡¯s one of the reasons I¡¯m willing to let you walk away. But don¡¯t push your luck.¡± Her gaze moved over all three of us as she very pointedly added, ¡°All of you, turn around and walk, before I change my mind. You don¡¯t want to see what happens if I decide you¡¯re being too annoying.¡±


    Carousel¡¯s voice immediately filled the air on the heels of Sandon¡¯s words. ¡°They say the better part of valor is discretion. Leaving may cause some depression. But it is my greatest impression our soundest move is egression.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Sandon agreed with a small, humorless chuckle. ¡°However the poet girl wants to put it. But any minute now one of your do-gooder friends is going to show up. Then everything gets complicated again. So let¡¯s say you have ten¨Cfive seconds to make up your minds. Four, three-¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Lucent put in, ¡°Your point is made. Come, little ones, we shall find our way out of this place and leave our friends here to¡­ conduct their business. There will be other moments, other confrontations.¡± He was clearly staring at Sandon, who gave him a simple nod. I wondered how much history there was between them, because it seemed like there was at least something. Especially given the tone she used whenever she called him ¡®bird.¡¯ She clearly didn¡¯t like him. And yet, she was still willing to let him, and the rest of us, walk away from this.


    That was exactly what we did. We left, walking backward to keep the troops in sight for as long as possible, just in case one of them decided to try something after all. But though it was clear that they were pretty unhappy about it, none of them made a move. Not with Sandon right there. They were obviously far too afraid of her to risk doing something stupid right then.


    As for the three of us, we didn¡¯t say anything until we had stepped backward into an alley on the far side of the parking lot, getting out of their sight. Immediately, I pivoted toward Carousel, while Lucent flew off my head and toward the nearby roof. Reaching out, I took the other girl¡¯s hand and launched us upward with a mix of blue and red paint. We reached the top of the building, and I released Carousel while blurting, ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t take them? They¡¯re right there, we can still¨C¡±


    ¡°Easy, lad,¡± Lucent cautioned while landing on a nearby bit of machinery sticking out of the roof. ¡°There is nothing embarrassing about walking away to fight another day. There will be other moments, better moments. You need more training before you¡¯re ready to go up against someone like Sandon in a straight fight. As it is, she would demolish you in such a confrontation. Don¡¯t forget, she is capable of holding her own in a fight against Cu¨¦lebre, and your success against that man hinged on running away from him.¡±


    Remembering what it had been like to catch just a portion of the lightning bolt he had summoned, and how terrifying it had been to run away from him to begin with, I gave a reluctant nod. ¡°Yeah, I know. But¡­ but they¡¯re over there and they¡¯re going to get that money back. Or whatever they stole from the vault. They¡¯ll get the people we left down there, all of it. We might as well not have even been there if they just get away with all of it.¡± It was probably childish, but still. I didn¡¯t like the idea of just letting them walk away with everything they stole.


    ¡°Perhaps this is the best lesson you could have learned today,¡± Lucent considered, his gaze on me. ¡°Oft times it is better to take the hit to your pride or sense of justice, if it means avoiding needless conflict that can only result in more problems. Twas nothing to be truly gained by engaging with Sandon and her people right then. What they have stolen may be recovered in other ways, at other times. And if it is not, all that has been lost is material goods. But if we were to fight that woman directly and lose¡­ such could be disastrous in many ways.¡±


    Exhaling, I gave a slow, reluctant nod. ¡°Yeah, okay, you¡¯re right. But still, we could stop them if we had more help. Where is everybody? What¡¯s taking them so long to show up? I mean, you told them what was going on, right? You¡¯ve got that tracker thing on you, so they should¡¯ve made it here by now.¡± I wasn¡¯t trying to be judgy or anything, but seriously, we should¡¯ve had help back there. We¡¯d kept Sandon talking long enough for other members of the Seraphs or Minority/Conservators to show up. But there had been nothing. What was up with that?


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Lucent replied, ¡°It seems that all active patrols from various teams were too far away from the situation to step in. And they were¡­ otherwise engaged in their own problems at the time. A case of poor luck and timing. Or generous luck, on the Ninety-Niners¡¯ parts, one may suppose.¡±


    Right, generous luck called, ¡®they probably paid off my parents to keep anyone who could stop them away.¡¯ Because that was a thing the Ministry did. It was one of the main reasons they existed. Criminals paid them extra fees to push patrols away from what they were targeting. I knew that from that bit I¡¯d overheard between my brother and that guy just outside the mall base. Obviously that was what had actually happened here. Not that I could explain it to the other two. Even if the idea of just blurting out the whole thing did jump into my head.


    While I was pushing that thought out of my head, Carousel spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve sent a message of my own. Though she may show up alone, Way will be among us soon. Best she not come to high noon.¡±


    Right, yeah, Amber was on her way and it was probably a good thing that she wouldn¡¯t be walking into a full-on duel. Especially if she was by herself. My mouth opened to agree with that, only to stop as I hesitated and blinked at the other girl. ¡°Come to think of it, if there wasn¡¯t any patrols nearby, how did you happen to show up?¡± I knew that wasn¡¯t the sort of oversight my family would have made. If they had been paid to move patrols away from the bank, Carousel really shouldn¡¯t have been anywhere near the place. At least, not officially.


    Sure enough, she shrugged. ¡°I was not on any sort of patrol. In truth, I was out for a stroll. I saw you passing overhead, and though it could have been misread, it seemed you needed aid. Thus from my path, I strayed.¡±


    ¡°Someday,¡± I retorted while pointing at her, ¡°I¡¯m going to find a way to make you say something that doesn¡¯t rhyme. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but your poetry reckoning is coming.¡±


    I could feel the smile on her face as she casually replied, ¡°You are not the first to make such a claim. Truly, I enjoy that sort of game. Yet I must disclaim, lest annoyance grow aflame, that it is not truly a fair fight. After all, with words I am quite erudite.¡±


    Opening and shutting my mouth a couple times, I leaned closer to Lucent and murmured, ¡°I think I¡¯m in over my head.¡±


    The exchange prompted a chuckle from the raven TONI, before he cleared his throat. ¡°In any case, neither of you should feel poorly about what transpired. As I said, it is always better to walk away and find a better avenue for attack, than to let stubbornness force you into an uneven conflict. We walked into that without knowing who was on the other end of the tunnel. Facing one as powerful and dangerous as Sandon without any plan, while surrounded by her people and with an unknown Touched in play on her side? There was no shame in backing out of that conflict. That is what you should truly take away from this. Never be afraid to admit you are not prepared for something. Better to leave and try again another time, from a better direction, than insist on fighting right at the moment.¡±


    He definitely had a point, as much as it has made my stomach twist itself to just walk away from that after everything we had done to try to stop them from getting away. Which made another thought come to me, as I looked at Carousel. ¡°What about those cuffs? Are you gonna get in trouble for uhh, losing them?¡± I had no doubt that Sandon had a way to break them. Even if it only amounted to literally doing so. Those particular cuffs weren¡¯t the ones rated for that level of enhanced strength. They would keep a certain amount down, but she was far beyond that.


    ¡°When I present the whole story,¡± the other girl informed me, ¡°of how they left my inventory, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll understand why I have fewer cuffs on hand.¡±


    I was about to say something to that, when there was a whistle from nearby. The three of us turned, in time to see That-A-Way on the opposite roof. She was clearly warning us before just showing up, just in case we were still a bit tense (which was fair). As soon as we looked that way, she vanished from that roof and appeared next to us.


    ¡°So,¡± the girl started while looking around.


    ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡±

 Winging It 19-07

    We split up almost immediately after that. Lucent had to cut our practice time short so he could go back and report in about what had happened. And Carousel went off with That-A-Way to tell her teammates the story while heading in to give her own report. Because of course it made sense for Way to go with Carousel, at least at first. She did shoot me a look before heading off, mouthing for me to meet her here and that she would be right back. Clearly, she still wanted to get into whatever she¡¯d sent the earlier message about, before all this happened.


    I did have one thing to do while she was gone, though. Heading back to the bank, I helped the cops in the lot release the guys I had trapped with pink paint. Not that the would-be robbers were exactly happy about being arrested, but hey. At least we hadn¡¯t completely failed to catch everyone.


    Once that was done and I had sent in a statement about what happened with the Ten Towers Doephone app so it would be officially logged, I went back to the other roof and took a seat with my back to one of the air conditioning units. I needed a moment to catch my breath after everything that had happened. Part of me really still felt like shit for just letting those guys walk away with the stuff they stole, no matter how much I told myself that Lucent was right. Not getting into a brawl right there had been the right call. No matter how much the whispering voice in the back of my head went on about it being a mistake.


    But no, backing off had been the right call. Maybe, maybe we could¡¯ve handled the regular thugs who were surrounding us. Carousel might have stopped the bullets and even pulled some of their guns away. And I had my protective paint. Maybe between the three of us, even surrounded like that, we could¡¯ve taken the Prevs. A group of ordinary guys with weapons against the three of us? We probably could have handled it. Probably.


    But Sandon¡¯s presence threw all that out the window. She was right there close to us, flanked by all those armed troops while already being one of the strongest and toughest Touched around. We just didn¡¯t have anything that could have straight-up hurt her. And while we could¡¯ve gotten creative, having to deal with her and her men was a bad combination. And that was before you added in the new Touched. Between the armed thugs, Sandon, and not knowing much of anything about the new guy¡¯s power¡­ yeah, starting a fight while surrounded by all that would have been one of the worst ideas imaginable. It would¡¯ve gone horribly.


    And yet¡­ Yeah, I couldn¡¯t shut out my traitorous little voice, no matter what sort of logic I tried to silence it with. Which made a heavy sigh escape me.


    ¡°Letting them get away sucks, doesn¡¯t it?¡± That-A-Way spoke up while approaching from the other side of the roof. Clearly she had heard my sigh. ¡°Believe me, I know what you¡¯re feeling right now. And it never really goes away. I mean, it shouldn¡¯t, right?¡± By that point, she had reached the spot where I was sitting, and plopped down next to me, drawing her legs up while looking out over the neighborhood below. ¡°It should always feel wrong to let bad guys leave with what they stole, no matter how many times you tell yourself it was the only way.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I shifted a bit to look over at the other girl from behind my helmet. ¡°Yeah, I guess you¡¯ve probably been in that position a few times before, huh?¡±


    I could see a very slight, humorless smile cross her face briefly. ¡°Once or twice. The fact is that sometimes we¡¯re outnumbered or outpowered, and we have to walk away. Silversmith always says¨C¡± She caught herself, face twisting into a slight grimace before pushing on. ¡°Yeah, I know, but he¡¯s not wrong here. He always says that it¡¯s better to fight another day. Especially when all they have is material goods. If they kidnapped someone or whatever, it¡¯s usually a different story. But if all they¡¯ve got is money or something like that? Yeah, just let them go if you need to. He says money can be replaced, but we can¡¯t be.¡±


    My father¡¯s advice, delivered through Amber, made a lump form in my throat. It wasn¡¯t any different than the advice that my bird-dad had given. And yet, I just¡­ somehow the thought of why he would be fine with letting bad guys escape with what they stole made the whole thing feel worse.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly help with that, did I?¡± Way was grimacing as she looked at me, shaking her head. ¡°Sorry. I just¡­ I¡¯ve looked up to him for a long time. And like I said, he¡¯s not wrong here. Even if he might have some ulterior motives sometimes about letting them walk away, it¡¯s still not wrong. You guys made the right choice. Sandon would¡¯ve chewed you up and spat you out. You¡¯re not ready for her. Hell, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m not ready for her. That¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s too strong. And that¡¯s coming from someone who can be invulnerable a quarter of the time and intangible another quarter.¡±


    Finally finding a slight smile, I reached out and squeezed her arm. ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured before adding, ¡°I just¡­ you know, she outright said that they stole those things to help fund this gangwar. So every bit of fighting that goes on now, I¡¯m going to wonder if it happened because we let them get away with the money to pay for it. If anything happens to Pack¨CI mean¡­ La Casa are the ones fighting the Ninety-Niners, you know? If anything happens to her because they took the money I let them get away with to keep the war going¡­¡±


    I could hear the way the other girl gulped. Her hand found mine, squeezing it firmly. ¡°I know,¡± she murmured in a soft voice. ¡°Believe me, I think about that a lot. Not just when it comes to this thing today. I think about it all the time.¡± Her tone made it clear that was an understatement. ¡°But it¡¯s her choice, and she puts herself in that position. She chooses to do this stuff, just like we choose our own way, you know?¡± She gave a long, heavy sigh before adding in an even softer voice, ¡°Of course, that doesn¡¯t mean I won¡¯t try to make sure she doesn¡¯t get hurt if I get the chance.¡±


    With my face hidden, I watched the other girl for a moment. There were a few things I almost wanted to ask about her whole thing with Pack, but I held off on the basis of it not being any of my business. Instead, I simply replied, ¡°Sorry, I¡­ I know you¡¯re right. But knowing that doesn¡¯t really¡­ umm, help, you know? Doesn¡¯t matter how logical it is, everything the Ninety-Niners do from now on, as far as this war goes, I won¡¯t¡­ I won¡¯t be able to stop thinking ¡®they can do this because I didn¡¯t stop them from stealing the funds they needed to keep this whole thing going.¡¯¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she murmured, giving a heavy sigh. ¡°I get it. It would be a hell of a lot easier to talk her out of being on the bad guy¡¯s team if we didn¡¯t already know for a fact that there are bad guys on every team.¡± Pausing, she grimaced before amending, ¡°Okay, maybe it wouldn¡¯t exactly be easy. She does like her money and freedom. But still, maybe like.. a Sell-Touched? Wait.¡± Her expression shifted as thoughts of that ran through her mind. She was obviously considering whether it would be a good idea to suggest that Pack become a Sell-Touched as a sort-of midway point between her current villain alignment and something better. After all, Sell-Touched could play both sides of the field, as Cavalcade had made clear. It just took a little extra work.


    Both of us thought about that for a minute, before I offered a hesitant, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure she has friends over there that she wouldn¡¯t want to walk away from that easily. Unless you¡¯re thinking about¨C¡± I coughed, giving her a look of realization. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking about her walking away from her friends, you¡¯re thinking about her taking them with her and making La Casa lose like¡­ several Touched all at once.¡±


    ¡°It would be a pretty big deal, huh?¡± Way opened her mouth and then stopped, heaving a sigh. ¡°But, if I bring it up, it¡¯ll just make her think I¡¯m trying to get credit for taking a bunch of La Casa Touched away all at once. I mean¨CI thought about that but it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s backwards, you know? I don¡¯t care about that sort of credit¨CI don¡¯t even¡­ ¡° She closed her eyes and drew her legs closer to her chest, going quiet for a moment before murmuring, ¡°I just want to know she¡¯s okay. If she gets arrested, if she goes to prison for everything, I just¨CI mean I should want that, right? She¡¯s a thief, she¡¯s a villain. Outside of these deals we have, I should want her to get caught. But every time I think about what I would do if it came down to choosing to take her in or let her go, even outside of our whole situation with the Ministry, I just¡­ I can¡¯t figure it out. I try. Believe me, I seriously sat there for hours trying to figure out how I would react if we didn¡¯t have to deal with this Ministry stuff and I had to choose whether to take her in or not. Part of that whole¡­ ¡®figuring out how I feel¡¯ thing. But I just can¡¯t extricate it like that. It¡¯s¨Cdamn it. You know.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°I know. I mean, even without anything else, she¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s a friend.¡± There was clearly more to it than that, but I didn¡¯t want to make assumptions or push the other girl to admit anything she didn¡¯t want to. ¡°You care about her. And it sucks to think that someone you care about might need help. And¨Coh, uhh, Jae might need help.¡± It clearly wasn¡¯t the best or smoothest topic shift, but the thought had just popped into my head while talking.


    Giving a sudden double-take at that, Amber cough-sputtered a bit. It was kind of a weird reaction to have to something like that, if I was being honest. But maybe the sudden topic shift had thrown her off more than I thought. Or maybe she just wasn¡¯t used to me bringing up civilian stuff while we were in costume. Which was totally fair, given how weird that whole thing was.


    Either way, she gave me a sharp look, asking, ¡°What do you mean? When did you talk to Jae? When did you even see Jae? She hasn¡¯t¨CI mean, when did she¨Cwhat did¨Cwhat?¡± Yeah, definitely a weird reaction.


    Setting that aside, given I had no idea what was going on there (maybe Jae really didn¡¯t know about Amber being Touched and she felt guilty about that?), I simply told her what I had seen back at the grocery store. I explained the whole interplay between Jae and her step-adopted mother (or whatever the proper term for that would be), the welcome home party for her adopted father, all of it.


    ¡°It¡¯s just father, you know,¡± Amber informed me. ¡°Once someone is adopted, you don¡¯t have to stick the word on the front as a qualifier. He¡¯s her father. She¡¯s her stepmother. Her siblings are her siblings, not her adopted siblings. They¡¯re a family, like any other.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Coughing, I gave a little nod. ¡°Got it, sorry. I just¨Cyeah. The point is, I think Jae might need a friend today. Plus, you might want to make sure she¡¯s really okay after that close call.  Like I said, you don¡¯t have to tell me if she actually knows about you being¡­ you, but if she does, you can tell her that you heard about what happened from me and, you know, figured out who she was from the description. Or¡­ whatever. I just mean you should check on her.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± Amber assured me, without getting into any details. ¡°Pretty sure she¡¯ll be alright, but I¡¯ll go over there later, before my patrol with Syndicate. And¨C¡± Abruptly, she snapped her fingers. ¡°I can tell you about that thing now! Okay, no more distractions or interruptions. You¡¯re not allowed to have some huge thing come up and take up all our attention for the next few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ll do my best?¡± I offered a bit weakly while glancing around. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t see anything coming up, and I¡¯ll try not to answer my phone or anything. But I really can¡¯t¨Cnever mind. Ahem.¡± Shifting, I faced her directly. ¡°You have my full and undivided attention. Go ahead.¡±


    Giving me a look as though half-convinced that she was going to be interrupted anyway, Amber still hesitated before launching into an explanation. She told me about how a little while back she had been out jogging and saw some Asian people arguing outside of a sedan. There was one girl, around her age or maybe slightly older, who had been having an argument with the other three, older people. Maybe her relatives. They were all yelling in their own language, so Amber couldn¡¯t tell what they were saying. And just when Amber had been thinking about stepping in, another car had shown up. A car with diplomatic plates. Yeah, it was Tomas¡¯s father. At the time, Amber hadn¡¯t actually known there was anything wrong with the man. She just thought it was strange that he was there. He had talked to the Asian people, calmed down the situation, then had the younger girl get in his car with him.


    ¡°And that¡¯s where it got really¡­ uh, different,¡± Amber informed me. ¡°She became he. I mean, just before the girl got in the car, she shifted. Her hair, her face, her whole body. She turned into a boy like it was nothing. Just that easy, that casual. Believe me, I know transitioning has gotten easier with Touched-Tech, but this was more than that. She¨CI mean they¡¯re either a shapeshifter, or a¡­. maybe they have their own personal Touched-Tech disguise, or¨CI don¡¯t know. But I thought it was weird at the time, and now that you told me about Mr. Jackson, it¨Cit feels even more weird. Something¡­ strange was going on with that, you know?¡±


    Nodding slowly as I ran that through my head, I tried to think and came up with nothing. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know. I never heard my parents talking about anything like that. At least, I don¡¯t think so. It doesn¡¯t ring any bells. And I don¡¯t¨C huh.¡± Frowning, I thought again before heaving a sigh. ¡°God, I don¡¯t know. Maybe we¡¯ll find out more once we dig that tunnel to get into the mall base? Which, you know, having that Undermine guy¡¯s power would sure help out a lot with that.¡±


    Snorting, clearly despite herself, Amber retorted, ¡°Sure would. All you have to do is go convince him to help. Shouldn¡¯t be that hard, right? I mean, you can trust a total stranger, who happens to be an active villain and not in any way a friend with all your secrets. Easy peasy.¡±


    My eyes rolled and I covered the front of my helmet with my hands. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it. I¡¯m just saying, if they¡¯d been using a tech thing, we could¡¯ve grabbed it. Would¡¯ve made it easier. But hey, we don¡¯t get to do things the easy way. We still need to do them. At least we¡¯ve got help.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the girl agreed, ¡°it¡¯ll be easier with Raindrop and Pack there. And will your minions be there too?¡± The last bit was said teasingly as she nudged me, clearly going for a reaction.


    ¡°Uuuughh,¡± I groaned, shaking my head. ¡°Don¡¯t even¨CI don¡¯t know. Maybe¡­ maybe if I tell them we need to dig a tunnel somewhere but we can¡¯t really tell them why or let them know where it is? I don¡¯t¨Cthat doesn¡¯t sound very fair, does it?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re minions,¡± she pointed out, ¡°they¡¯re probably used to not being treated fairly or being given all the information.¡± A small smile played across her face before she focused. ¡°Anyway, the other option is that you tell them what¡¯s actually going on. I mean, maybe not your real identity if you don¡¯t want to. But about this Ministry stuff. At least then they¡¯d be going into it¨Call of it with open eyes and all. They could choose to walk away before they end up getting in the sort of trouble that the Ministry could put them in just by working with you.¡±


    Blanching, I shifted back and exhaled long and low before admitting, ¡°Right, yeah, you have a point. I just don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a good idea to tell them more than¨Cto tell them¨CI mean¡­¡± My face, still hidden, twisted a little as I tried to sort through my thoughts. ¡°You¡¯re right. I know you¡¯re right. If they get involved in this and get hurt specifically because they didn¡¯t know what they were getting into or how to protect themselves from it, I¡¯ll never forgive myself. Hell, by that standard I should make sure Fred and Wren know the whole story too. I should¨C¡± I swallowed hard. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of things I should do. I¡¯ll think about it. I¡¯ll think about how to talk about it and how much I can tell them.¡± Pausing, I murmured, ¡°Or if I should just tell them not to have anything to do with me. But something tells me that won¡¯t come off very well. They¡¯re already working with Wren. I¨CI gave them a chance. I told them they could have real jobs, and a chance to make their lives better. I can¡¯t take that away from them. Maybe I could have them only work for Wren and have nothing to do with me, but you know that won¡¯t work. If bad things go down, it isn¡¯t hard to connect Trevithick to me. I just¨Cit¡¯s so intertwined and complicated.¡±


    My eyes had closed by that point as I slumped backward against the air conditioning unit and let a heavy sigh escape me once more. ¡°I have to think about all that. But I will. I¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    ¡°I know, it¡¯s a pain in the ass,¡± Amber sympathized before adding, ¡°And uhh, I¡¯m probably not about to make it any better. Which¨Csorry. But I just want to let you know next I¡¯m going to be looking into something else while we¡¯re searching for information about the whole Ministry thing. More than just general information. It¡¯s¨Cit¡¯s important.¡± Her voice cracked a little as she said that, making it clear how much of an understatement it was. ¡°I just¨CI have to know.¡±


    After looking at her briefly, I realized, ¡°Your dad. You want to find out if they had anything to do with the guy who hit your dad getting away. You want to know if they accepted money from him to disappear and that¡¯s why no one ever found out who¨C¡± Grimacing, I shook my head. ¡°You know that could all be completely normal. A lot of hit-and-runs go completely unsolved. Especially with a stolen car, and¨C¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± the other girl blurted, before giving me an apologetic look. ¡°I know all that, believe me. But I got the idea stuck in my head and now I can¡¯t let it go until I know for sure. I have to find out if your parents deliberately let my father¡¯s killer walk away. I just¨CI have to know for sure. Whatever it takes. So I¡¯m gonna be looking for anything that has to do with him. My dad, I mean. They might¡¯ve kept files or¡­ or some other record, or someone else might¡¯ve known and¨Cand¡­ Ugh. Someone will know the truth. I have to check. I just¡­ have to.¡±


    It was my turn to reach out and squeeze her arm. ¡°I understand. I¡­ I¡¯ll help any way I can, I promise. But be careful, okay? Just¨Cbe careful. And don¡¯t do anything drastic. We¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    She murmured what was something close to an agreement, before the two of us sat there in silence for a minute or two. A minute or two which felt much longer, as we gradually turned away to look out over the neighborhood once more, lost in our own thoughts.


    Finally, I pushed myself up. ¡°Thanks for talking me through all that. I¨Cit¡¯s good to have someone to talk to.¡± Boy was that ever an understatement. I had no idea how I would¡¯ve even kept as sane as I was right then without having her and Izzy. It really made a difference.


    Rising after me, Amber offered a small smile. ¡°Any time. I uhh, guess I should head back in now. Like you said, I should check on Jae and make sure she¡¯s okay.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed before turning to start walking to the edge of the roof. ¡°And I need to get over to Wren¡¯s to see how they¡¯re doing with Lion. Can¡¯t let my employees have all the fun. Besides, it¡¯s probably about time I had a talk with Paige.


    ¡°I really need to ask her why she never mentioned that she has a sister who would come looking for her.¡±

 Winging It 19-08

    Needless to say, that wasn¡¯t exactly how I expected my time with Lucent to go. But then, since when had anything gone the way that I had thought it would since the night I decided to play around in Royal Thunder? The expected thing happening would be completely unexpected. Which was¨Cnever mind. I really couldn¡¯t look at that too closely or I¡¯d go cross-eyed.


    In any case, we were going to have to try that again another time. For the moment, I put it aside along with thoughts about Carousel and her whole deal as I pressed the buzzer at the back door of Wren¡¯s shop. There were plenty of other things for me to focus on as it was. Like talking to Paige (and Raige, come to think of it), or figuring out what was up with that sex-shifting Asian person Amber had been talking about, and¨C


    Wait, hold on. Back when Izzy and I had first found out about each other, my father had been right below us, talking with someone on the phone in Japanese. Was that related to this? It¡­ could be, right? Not for the first time, I wished one of us spoke Japanese.


    Shaking off that thought, I focused on the other question. Namely, why Mr. Jackson had been there in the first place. Yeah, that was going to bug me for awhile. My best idea for getting information about that was to go hang out with Tomas at his house for awhile and try to sneak off to snoop around. Yes, that would probably be dangerous. And yet, if I didn¡¯t start taking a few risks to get answers, I¡¯d never get anywhere.


    I was still debating back and forth with myself about that when Murphy (still masked) opened the door. ¡°Hey, boss,¡± she greeted me. ¡°You¡¯ve got to come in here and see this meeting of the minds shit. I have no idea what the fuck is going on, but damn if it¡¯s not fascinating to watch.¡±


    So, I followed her in there and got my first glimpse of the, as she put it, ¡®meeting of the minds shit.¡¯ Wren was seated cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the shop, down in the slightly lower area next to the four counters that formed the rectangle. She was perched next to one of those counters. In front of her was what looked like a cardboard diorama of the shop itself,  made out of repurposed individual size cereal boxes. There were three different dioramas, actually. One that showed the outside, one of the shop floor, and one of the upper floor. They had everything in there, the shelves, the tables, the very same counters Wren was sitting next to, the fire hydrants and benches outside, the rooms upstairs, and so on. All of it represented in cardboard.


    Lion was there too, of course. She was perched right in the middle of the diorama of the outside area, using one paw to point at a park bench while going on at length about some sort of pneumatic system they could¡­ do something with. Which sent Wren off on a whole three-hundred word spiel, of which I understood maybe half the words and about a tenth of how they actually fit together in the way she was saying.


    Okay yeah, this was confusing. I had no idea what they were talking about. Which really, for the first time, really drove home how Wren wasn¡¯t a normal kid. Yes, yes, I¡¯d already known that of course. The stuff she made proved it quite well. But I supposed that up to that point, somewhere in my head, I just saw what she did as something like magic, like she just touched something and poof, it became her inventions. Which was dumb, because I¡¯d already helped her with collecting stuff for the suit that we made Ashton wear so he would lead us to the vials against his will. I¡¯d even helped put it together, in the sense of doing exactly what she told us to do. I¡¯d seen her power in action and knew, for a fact, how it worked. At least, to an extent.


    But this was really my first time seeing it put this way. Probably because it was the first time I¡¯d had a chance to see the girl talk to someone who was on her level. Which was about fifty stories above my level, apparently. The two of them were babbling back and forth at each other in what might as well have been a completely different language for all that I could follow it.


    Murphy, who had been watching as I stared that way, gestured emphatically. ¡°See what I mean? No freaking clue what they¡¯re on about, but it seems pretty spiffy.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°You like the dioramas? Calvin and me did those. See, we do contribute.¡±


    Calvi¨Coh, right. She¡¯d given fake names for Roald and herself as Calvin and Hobbes. Which, to be honest, I was pretty sure it would have fit better if she flipped the names. At least, character-wise. She was much more of a Calvin to me.


    In any case, I wasn¡¯t going to go judging her pseudonym choices at the moment. Instead, I gave a slow nod, before blinking. ¡°Where is R¨CCalvin, anyway? And Fred.¡±


    ¡°Shopping,¡± came the easy reply. ¡°They had to go out and get some stuff that these guys asked for. They told me what it was, but you know.¡± She made a motion and whistled low to illustrate the information going in one ear and out the other. ¡°No idea. They took the list with them. It was a long list.¡± She pulled her phone out to look at the time. ¡°They only left about twenty minutes ago, so¡­ yeah, probably gonna be awhile before they come back. I¨Chey.¡±


    Squinting at something on her phone, Murphy looked at me, then to the screen and back again. I couldn¡¯t read her expression through the ski mask, but her body language made it clear she was confused. Finally, the girl tapped the phone pointedly before asking, ¡°You stopped a bank robbery? I thought you were like, doing Master Splinter Miyagi shit with Captain Corvid.¡±


    I started to correct the other girl that it was Lucent, not Captain Corvid, then reconsidered. Given everything I¡¯d seen of him, he¡¯d probably actually be amused by the title. So I let that go before shrugging. ¡°It was a little more complicated than that. We stopped one set of bank robbers, but there was¡­¡± I trailed off, my instinct to say as little as possible kicking in while the girl stared at me in anticipation. My whole deal of compartmentalizing information for so long meant that it was just instinct to not actually explain what had happened back there. But why shouldn¡¯t I? Seriously, nothing in what had happened actually gave away anything I didn¡¯t want to share. Why was I being so hesitant to talk about it? Was it just because I was pretty sure the entire event was connected to my family, considering all the Star-Touched patrols had been moved away from the area? Was even the slightest hint of a connection to my family enough to make me instinctively clam up?


    Apparently so, but I forced the impulse down and held up a hand for Murphy to wait a moment while I looked back to where Wren and Lion were. The two of them didn¡¯t even seem to have noticed my arrival, considering how engrossed in their discussion they were. Another few seconds of listening proved entirely fruitless, as I was pretty sure they weren¡¯t even using real words by that point. They were, however, finishing each other¡¯s sentences and laughing a lot. It wasn¡¯t¡­ quite mad scientist laughter, but pretty close to the edge of it.


    Yeah, I was going to let them keep doing the, uh, whatever they were doing. Turning away, I gestured for Murphy to come with as I moved away from that area and closer to the elevator. Stopping there, I quietly told her what actually happened, at least as far as someone without any of my extra knowledge would know from being there. I told her about the extra bad guys, the tunnel, finding our way to where Sandon and her men were waiting to back up Undermine, and about the agreement to back off and let them go rather than start a big fight right there.


    ¡°So,¡± I finally finished, ¡°does that totally destroy your vision of me as a hero for letting the bad guys escape with everything they took?¡±


    A snort escaped the girl as she gave me a look. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve shattered my poor, delicate and bright-eyed naivety and opened me up to the harsh, gray world.¡± Clasping her hands, she gave a heavy, dramatic sigh. ¡°Gone forever are my dreams of Paintball, stalwart champion of the people, unwavering protector of all that is good as he stands alone against the forces of¨COw! Did you just kick me?¡±


    Painting an innocent face across my helmet (complete with halo), I replied, ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. You know how it is around Tech-Touched bases. Lots of weird half-finished inventions lying around. Maybe we set something off.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we set something off alright,¡± she retorted, squinting at me before snickering. ¡°Anyway, come on, you can¡¯t honestly think that shit would change anything as far as me and R¨C¡± She leaned up on her toes to stare in the direction of Lion and Wren. Apparently Murphy didn¡¯t trust that the mouse couldn¡¯t hear, because she amended, ¡°¨CCalvin are concerned. We didn¡¯t go looking to work for some dumb Star-Touched paragon, you know? You asked us to work for you. That¡¯s what we¡¯re doing, it¡¯s what we wanna do. At least you¡¯re smarter than some of those wannabes out there. Gotta know when to fold your cards and walk away.¡±


    Biting my lip, I watched her for a moment before shaking my head. ¡°Right, at least it hasn¡¯t changed your opinion of me or anything.¡±


    She, in turn, offered a wide, exaggerated shrug. ¡°You¡¯re the boss, boss. I uh, I know we joke about the whole minions thing, but seriously. You¡¯re giving us a chance to make some cash and sorta, you know, move up a bit. You¡¯re the one we¡¯re loyal to. I mean, you and Trevithick over there. Long as you don¡¯t start doing evil shit, or really fucking stupid shit, or¡­ a few other kinds of shit, we¡¯re here. Not starting a stupid, pointless fight you probably couldn¡¯t win just to save some random rich fucks¡¯ stolen goodies? Come on. If anything, my opinion of you just went up a little bit. But uh, don¡¯t let that go to your head.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to keep my ego under control,¡± I replied dryly. ¡°And thanks, Hobbes. Glad to know I didn¡¯t just lose Trev¡¯s very best new sweeper and mopper for her.¡±


    ¡°And duster, don¡¯t forget that,¡± she retorted before lowering her voice into a faintly distressed, ¡°Seriously, there is so much dust.¡±


    Smirking despite myself behind the helmet, I gave her a thumbs up. ¡°I¡¯ll try to remember to include that on your new job plaque. But uh, think you could stick around down here and keep an eye on what¡¯s going on over there while I go upstairs for a few?¡±


    ¡°Whatever,¡± came her response. ¡°Trust me, boss, I¡¯ve got plenty of shit down here to keep myself busy.  I¡¯m pretty sure those two are going to be just fine without any help from me or anyone else. But you go do your thing. I¡¯ll feel better with you here, anyway. If they manage to send this building into another universe or something with their super-science shit, at least you¡¯ll be around to do something about all the alien monsters trying to lay eggs in our brains.¡±


    Painting a weirded-out face on my helmet squinting at her, I slowly replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll uhh, keep an eye out for that.¡± My head shook as I gave a soft chuckle before starting to turn to the elevator. Then I stopped and pivoted back. ¡°What¡¯s going on with Tyson? That was your brother¡¯s name, right? The one who gave you that cut on the head because you wouldn¡¯t run drugs for him. You still staying with Calvin or did you go back there?¡±


    Folding her arms defensively across her chest, the girl muttered, ¡°I couldn¡¯t stay with his family forever. It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s¨Cwhatever. Tyson¡¯s fine. I¡¯m here, ain¡¯t I? I told you I wouldn¡¯t let shit with my brother fuck this up, and I won¡¯t.  You don¡¯t have to worry about him. It¡¯s fine. He took me out to get some lunch and apologized and all that. Not a big deal.¡±


    ¡°Not a big deal?¡± I echoed incredulously despite myself. ¡°I know you care about him, but he cut your face because you wouldn¡¯t take a bunch of drugs over to his friend. Now it¡¯s okay because he took you out to lunch?¡±


    ¡°Fuck no,¡± she snapped, ¡°it¡¯s not okay. None of that is okay. Like I said, his friend got him hooked on the shit. He used to be totally cool, just a normal stoner, you know? Little weed now and then. Maybe a little more than now and then, but still. Weed. Nothing hard. He was funny when he got the munchies. Used to send Calvin and me out to pick up shit from the gas station in the middle of the night. Then that fuckface got him on the harder shit and¡­ and he changed. But he¡¯s still my brother. He¡¯s fine most of the time. I can deal with it. So just, you know, do whatever shit you need to do upstairs and let me worry about my brother.¡±


    I had the distinct impression that trying to say anything else about it wouldn¡¯t go very well. Still, I made a mental note to ask Roald for a little more information about that whole thing when I had the chance. Then I nodded to her before stepping on the elevator. All I said to the girl before the doors closed was, ¡°Let me know if anything happens down here. Especially if those two manage that whole going to another universe thing. You have blanket permission to interrupt anything I¡¯m doing if that happens.¡±


    With that, I hit the button to head upstairs, before stepping off a moment later once we were there. After giving a brief glance up and down the hall, I headed for the lab workshop area. Paige was still there, though she had been moved out of the MRI-like machine and was laying on a couch nearby. Someone had put a pillow under her head, and a blanket over her, so it looked like she was just sleeping. Which at least made the whole thing look a little less creepy.


    I needed to get this done, of course. And yet, for a moment, I just stood there and hesitated. A rush of thoughts ran through my mind as I stared at the motionless and silent form of the girl who had been forced by her father to treat me like shit for so long, but I pushed them aside to focus on the important thing. Which was asking Paige about this Irelyn chick.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how to run the whole virtual reality thing, of course. And I sure wasn¡¯t going to attempt it by myself. But there was still the other way of communicating with Paige. I picked up the Gameboy-like device and carefully wrote in the question, one word at a time, about ten minutes apart.


    SISTER


    LOOKING


    4PAIGE


    That simple thing took about thirty minutes to send. It definitely wasn¡¯t as convenient as the VR system. But on the other hand, I could use it without help and not risk blowing the whole building up or something. Now I just had to settle in and wait for however long it took Paige to send back a response.


    Not that long, apparently. The response came within about thirty seconds. But it didn¡¯t come through the Gameboy-Atari thing like I had expected. Instead, Paige¡¯s actual voice abruptly spoke up. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Yeah, I¡¯m not too proud to admit that I jumped. I had been sitting on one of the nearby chairs while thinking about what I should do while I was waiting, and damn near leapt out of my skin when the frozen girl started talking. A yelp actually escaped me before I got it under control and looked that way. Her eyes were still closed and she clearly still wasn¡¯t moving. ¡°Uh, Paige?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s letting me talk directly to you right now, for this,¡± came the response. ¡°Talk and listen, no moving. Slight control. So tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Before I could respond, she abruptly spoke again. Only it clearly wasn¡¯t Paige this time. ¡°Yeah, babe, just a little slack in the agreement since this seems like something we might want to nip in the bud before it turns into a problem. But I don¡¯t exactly trust this one to hold even this little bit of power for very long without abusing it, so get to the explaining part.¡±


    So, I did just that, carefully explaining everything that I knew. I told them both about being stopped outside the restaurant by that Irelyn woman, though I left out the whole thing about Arleigh and her brothers being there, since it didn¡¯t seem relevant. I explained that the woman was clearly looking pretty intently for Paige if she was asking me about it, and that it didn¡¯t seem like something she was just going to walk away from, satisfied with half-answers.


    ¡°So, I¡¯ve gotta ask,¡± I finally put in once the actual explanation was over, ¡°How come you never mentioned that you still had a sister who was going to start poking around asking questions about you and your parents disappearing? Cuz that whole fake vacation thing can hold up to some outside poking, but I¡¯m pretty sure it won¡¯t last long with someone like that looking into it.¡±


    There was no response at first. And given the position Paige was in with the whole laying completely motionless with her eyes closed thing, I honestly wasn¡¯t sure for a moment that she had even heard what I said.


    Finally, however, Paige spoke once more. ¡°She didn¡¯t really care.¡± Her voice was odd, like¡­ well, I couldn¡¯t really place it at first. There was something in her tone that didn¡¯t sound like her. For as long as I remembered knowing Paige, she had almost always sounded confident. Whether it came to tormenting me as much as possible, being the popular girl everyone else looked up to, or handling a bunch of biolems sent by her father to kill both of us, she was self-assured. But now? This almost sounded like¡­ vulnerability? Uncertainty? Confusion? All of the above. And more. There was a lot in her voice. But none of it was confidence.


    ¡°She was their real daughter, before they got pissed and disowned her because she didn¡¯t want to be the exact person they wanted her to be. She did her own thing, so they threw her out of the family and bought me instead. I was the replacement. I wasn¡¯t¨CI¡¯m not her real sister. Why would she start going around looking for me? That doesn¡¯t¨CI can¡¯t¡­¡±


    She trailed off for several long moments before her voice finally spoke again. But once more, it wasn¡¯t Paige. ¡°Uhh yeah, you¡¯re gonna have to give us some time with this. I think you got the gist of her reaction though. We¡¯ve got no clue why a girl who was disowned from the family and replaced like that would give two shits about what happened to the parents or the adopted sister. Give that some time to digest and come back in a couple days, maybe we¡¯ll be able to tell you something else. Send the word Aardvark to let us know you¡¯re back and want to talk about that whole thing and we¡¯ll do this again.¡±


    I really hadn¡¯t expected Paige to be quite that stunned by the news that Irelyn had been out there looking for her. But, I supposed that was fair. She deserved the chance to think about that for a bit. It was clearly a lot to dump on her, especially if she was so taken aback and lost in her own thoughts that Raige was talking.


    So, I straightened up. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll give you some time. I just¨C¡± Pausing, I shifted indecisively, unsure if I should ask. Finally, I went for it. ¡°What actually happened to your parents? I mean, where¡­ I mean, did they¡­ I mean¡­¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know what happened to them, exactly,¡± came Raige¡¯s response. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not hard to make a guess that Daddy dearest wanted them out of the way, but how he went about that, how¡­ permanent it is, all that, no idea. They weren¡¯t there when the party thing got started, that¡¯s all we know.¡±


    That didn¡¯t exactly make me feel better about the Banners¡¯ fates in general. But at least I could trust that Paige herself hadn¡¯t killed them. Still, I frowned before rising to leave. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll let you guys talk about that whole sister thing amongst yourselves, and come back later.¡±


    With that, I left the room and headed down the stairs rather than use the elevator that time. Paige had clearly been completely shocked by the revelation that this Irelyn woman was out there looking for her, to the point that she completely stopped responding and left Raige to do the talking. That¡­ that was¡­ I didn¡¯t know what that was. I may have had my¡­ whole complicated situation with my family, but at least I would never be surprised that they wanted to find me if I went missing. Paige, on the other hand, had been so shocked that Irelyn was actually looking for her that she actually went silent. She had been completely stupefied by the simple fact that someone cared enough about her to look when she disappeared. Which was pretty big. And, I supposed, went with the fact that she hadn¡¯t brought it up as a possibility, if she was that stunned by it.


    In any case, I¡¯d go back and talk to both of them some more about that in a day or two. For now, I was going to set that aside and focus on other things. Namely, what was up with the sex-shifting Asian person Tomas¡¯s dad had driven off with. Which meant I was going to have to go over there.


    Was it bad that I wasn¡¯t sure which made my stomach feel worse about spending time around, the guy who had used his superpower to literally erase my memory, or my ex-boyfriend whom I still had feelings for and whose loyalties I had no idea about. Tomas still could¡¯ve been nice to me, even dated me to begin with, just because of orders from his dad. That was¡­ it was a thought that made me feel like curling into a ball and not doing anything for a long time. Instead, I was going to shove that deep down into a hole, then call him up and ask if he wanted to hang out at his place sometime. I was going to bury all my doubts and insecurities, all my feelings in general, and convincingly put myself around one guy who had already fucked around in my memories, and another who might have been manipulating my emotions for years.


    You know what? I was starting to wish I had started that fight with Sandon.

 Interlude 19A - Murphy And Roald

    ¡°Ready, set, go!¡± Standing near the dumpster in the alley behind Wren¡¯s shop on Monday night (the day after Paintball had had that run-in with the Ninety-Niners), Alloy dropped her hand with that last word. At the call, Murphy, standing beside her, took off running. She raced straight toward the nearby wall. Ahead of her, four of Alloy¡¯s marbles went flying in, transforming into flat circles about nine inches across. The bronze marble swooped down first, positioning itself about six inches off the ground, slightly ahead of the sprinting girl. The silver hovered a bit behind that, higher and to the left, while the purple and black were yet higher and further back. White and gold were being used as Alloy¡¯s armor.


    Murphy¡¯s foot hit the first transformed marble, then the second, and the third. By that point, the first had swooped up and around to rise up behind the fourth, and the second soon joined it. The marbles were forming a sort of rapidly-moving series of steps leading up toward the fire-escape balcony halfway up the building, allowing Murphy to climb them at a sprint without ever breaking stride. It showed just how much trust the girl had both in the marbles themselves, and in Alloy¡¯s ability to control them. She only stumbled slightly once or twice, and the marbles were always there to quickly push her foot back into position. Soon, she was able to grab hold of the railing and haul herself up and over. Landing with a heavy metal clang, she raised both arms up and pivoted to face the ground below. ¡°Whooo! And she sets a new record for the¡­ floating marble stair climb event? We need a name for this. Hey, what was my time on that?¡±


    From where he stood on the opposite side of Alloy, Roald dryly replied, ¡°You called it a new record before even knowing what your time was?¡±


    ¡°Hey, I know I was going fast,¡± Murphy retorted, squinting down at her best friend. ¡°I don¡¯t need a stopwatch to tell me that much. But hey, you happen to have one. So spill the bananas.¡±


    Tilting her head toward the boy, Alloy asked, ¡°Isn¡¯t it usually spill the beans?¡±


    He, in turn, coughed. ¡°Inside joke. Uh, it was a whole thing back in third grade with bananas in the lunchroom at school and¡­ yeah.¡± Turning his attention to his phone, where he had the stopwatch app running, the boy called up, ¡°Eleven point four two seconds!¡±


    ¡°Told ya, new record!¡± Murphy crowed, before calling out. ¡°Hey, help me down, would ya?¡± With that, she hauled herself back over the railing and dropped, just as two of the marbles obediently created a surfboard for the girl to land on and ride all the way back to the ground. ¡°Whoo! Hey, you gonna beat my record or at least try to give me a challenge?¡±


    Blanching visibly, Roald shook his head. ¡°No thanks, I think I¡¯ll just let that one stand.¡±


    Before Murphy could tease him, Alloy spoke up. ¡°Thanks, guys. Seriously, I just wanted some help working out the coordination between me and the marbles. You didn¡¯t have to do something, you know, actually dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Meh,¡± Murphy shrugged, straightening up after stooping to rub her thumb over the silver marble as though it was a puppy that needed scritches. ¡°I¡¯ve done more dangerous stuff than that before we ever even met any of you guys.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not kidding,¡± Roald noted. ¡°And definitely more illegal stuff. Like that time she stole a car when we were ten.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t steal a car!¡± Murphy blurted, her reaction making it clear that this was a long-running debate. ¡°The asshole mechanic promised it would only cost two hundred dollars to fix what was wrong with my brother¡¯s car. Tyson did him a favor. Like, three favors actually. But when Ty went back to get it, suddenly it was supposed to be five hundred. And he wouldn¡¯t give it back. So I¡­ I took the keys off the board while they were arguing and drove it away.¡±


    ¡°She couldn¡¯t even see over the steering wheel and hit the gas at the same time,¡± Roald murmured with a small smile. ¡°So she kept leaning down to hit the gas for a few seconds, then leaning up to see where she was going while the car coasted, then leaning down to hit the gas, just like that.¡±


    Murphy¡¯s face had turned pink by then. ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m a better driver now.¡±


    ¡°Uh, are you even old enough for a license yet?¡± Alloy questioned, glancing between the two.


    With a huff, the other girl pointed out, ¡°I said I was a better driver. Not a more legal one.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Shaking her head, Alloy snickered despite herself. ¡°If my mom knew I was hanging out with terrible influences like you¡­ well, she¡¯d probably insist on dragging you both inside and shoving a Thanksgiving feast down your throats, honestly. That¡¯s how she deals with that sort of thing. With lots of food. Pretty sure she¡¯d insist on bringing your brother along too.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯d go over well,¡± Murphy retorted with a snort. ¡°Best holiday photo ever, my brother and your mom, fighting over the table full of food.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯d probably try to make him wear a tie,¡± Alloy murmured, her amusement clear before she shook that off. ¡°Anyway, thanks again. I¡¯m going to come up with some new exercises for the whole coordination thing. Maybe even some that Roald won¡¯t mind helping with.¡±


    ¡°Hey, any time,¡± Murphy informed her. ¡°Beats sweeping and mopping, anyway.¡± Quickly, she amended, ¡°Not that we don¡¯t, like, appreciate the opportunity or whatever. You know.¡±


    ¡°Relax, I¡¯m not gonna narc on you for not liking manual labor. I¡¯m pretty sure everyone knows,¡± Alloy pointed out. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m sort of right alongside you, remember? I¡¯m supposed to be working here too. Gotta keep my cover story intact.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Murphy replied with a broad smile. ¡°Next time, you get to mop out the restroom. You know, once the store officially reopens and all that.¡±


    With a groan, Alloy lamented, ¡°On second thought, maybe I¡¯ll just go ahead and tell my mom I¡¯m fighting supervillains.¡±


    While the three laughed at that, the back door of the shop opened, and Fred came out. ¡°Oh hey, you¡¯re all still here, good. Your new boss wanted me to hand these out.¡± He had a stack of envelopes in one hand.


    ¡°The nine-year-old girl new boss, or the twelve-year-old boy new boss?¡± Roald questioned, with a glance to the other two as the absurdity of their situation really washed over him.


    Fred chuckled. ¡°The latter. But really it¡¯s from both of them. You¡¯ve done good work around here. Paintball said to consider this an advance, or a signing bonus, whatever.¡± He extended the envelopes to all three of them.


    Taking hers, Murphy ripped it open before her eyes bulged. ¡°What the¨Cwhat¨Chow¨Cwhat?¡± She reached in, taking out a stack of twenty and fifty dollar bills.


    ¡°Five hundred dollars for each of you,¡± Fred informed them. ¡°Would¡¯ve been more, but that one hasn¡¯t done much work yet.¡± He nodded toward Alloy. ¡°And you two are still working off your little escapade from before. Still, they wanted you to have something for the work you¡¯ve been doing. It¡¯s good work. Keep it up.¡± Belatedly, he added, ¡°Seriously, keep it up. I¡¯m kind of enjoying not being the one who has to sweep up around here. It¡¯s nice.¡±


    That said, the man walked back inside with a nod to them. As the door closed behind him, the three teenagers exchanged looks. Murphy found her voice first. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll tell you one thing. I¡¯m not eating off the dollar menu tonight. No, sir. It¡¯s full-on combo time. Large sized, with a milkshake.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t let Tyson see any of it,¡± Roald warned. ¡°I get how you feel about him, but it¡¯ll be gone in ten minutes. You know it too.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Making a face, Murphy put the cash away in a pocket. ¡°But I¡¯m still getting food. Hey, maybe I¡¯ll bring some for him too.¡±


    Glancing down at her phone, Alloy murmured, ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get home before Mom freaks out about curfew. Uh, you guys gonna be okay?¡±


    ¡°Sure, we¡¯ll take the bus. It¡¯s cool.¡± Roald replied, glancing toward Murphy before adding, ¡°Should we check to see if Wren and L-Lion need us?¡± He tripped a bit over the latter name, still finding it staggering that they were actually interacting with Touched to begin with, let alone someone like the mouse TONI. Having money in their pockets was strange enough on its own, but the actual facts of what their lives had become in such a short time was still unbelievable. The boy was generally half-convinced that he would wake up from this dream, and go back to the sort of life where throwing a rock through the door of a gas station so they could run in and grab as much food as they could stuff into their bags was the best way of feeding themselves.


    Murphy, meanwhile, was shaking her head. ¡°Dude, I tried to get their attention before we came out here, and they were just completely absorbed in their thing. And this is like the second day in a row they¡¯ve been like this. Trust me, they¡¯ll be fine. They¡¯ve got Fred to get whatever they need. And something tells me they¡¯re going to be having this whole meeting of the minds until like midnight. I¡¯m not waiting around that long. Let¡¯s just get out of here. Come on, remember, large combos. Milkshake. Not counting out pennies and asking for a water cup, then sneaking soda into it while they¡¯re not looking. We¡¯re living the good life.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Snorting at that, Alloy gestured. ¡°Sure, you guys are totally living like the Evans or Banners now.¡± Sobering then, she added, ¡°Seriously though, I¡¯ll catch you guys tomorrow. We¡¯ll do some more practice. I think my marbles are really starting to like you.¡± As though to prove that point, a couple of them moved up to dance in the air in front of their faces, clearly showing off before Alloy waved for the marbles to transform into a hoverboard. Then she was off, flying into the air.


    The pair watched her go before looking at one another. Roald spoke first, voice a bit awed. ¡°She¡¯s pretty cool, huh?¡±


    ¡°Super-cool,¡± Murphy confirmed. ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s hot too. But come on, let¡¯s get that bus. You know if we miss this one, they switch to that creepy driver.¡±


    They both shuddered at the thought before reaching down to grab their backpacks. Without another word, the two of them jogged out of the alley and made their way through the dark street to the nearest bus stop. Soon, they were on the bus and moved to the back, ignoring the curious glances they got. Both knew that being seen together tended to attract attention around here, given their appearances. Murphy was clearly mixed-race, with brown hair that was short enough to make people do a slight double-take as they worked out whether to classify her as male or female. Roald, on the other hand, was incredibly pale-skinned with longer blond hair, itself light enough to almost make someone wonder if he was albino. At a glance, many people reflexively thought of Roald as the female of the pair and Murphy as the male, before their brains had to adjust.


    Sitting in the back of the bus, the pair were already planning out where to stop near their apartment building to get food and carry it home. The two were in the middle of a debate about whether McDonalds or Wendy¡¯s was better for that, when a shadow fell over them. Both looked up to see a heavyset Latino man with clearly dyed blonde dreadlocks perch himself on the edge of the seat across from them, feet firmly planted in the aisle. ¡°I know you,¡± he said to Murphy. ¡°You¡¯re Ty¡¯s little sister. Eleanor.¡±


    Making a face as the guy used her given first name rather than her preferred last, the girl corrected him. ¡°It¡¯s Murphy. Just Murphy.¡±


    ¡°Well hey, Just Murphy,¡± the guy half-drawled. ¡°Fancy meeting you here. See, the name¡¯s  Luciano. Maybe you heard of me, maybe not. The point is, your brother owes me money, and he keeps ducking my calls. I don¡¯t like it when people who owe me money duck my calls. Makes me feel ignored, you know? I really hate feeling ignored. Makes me just wanna lash out. Which isn¡¯t good for anybody. I gotta talk to my therapist about that. But you know, she¡¯s outta town. So I¡¯m feeling some lashing coming on.¡±


    Murphy, in turn, retorted, ¡°Yeah, well I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got a lot of people who owe you money. What with that whole shoving drugs on them thing.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t shove shit on anyone,¡± Luciano objected with a slight snarl. ¡°They come looking for me, let¡¯s get that straight. Just like your big bro did. I did him a favor, hooked him up. Now he¡¯s ghosting me. And hey, ain¡¯t your folks locked up right now for slinging hard stuff?¡±


    ¡°They sold antidepressants,¡± the girl shot back. ¡°Not Fentanyl-laced crack, LSD, Heroin, any of that. Happy pills, not that shit.¡±


    ¡°My shit makes people happy too, kid,¡± Luciano snapped, showing his teeth (many of which had been replaced with gold or silver caps. ¡°And let¡¯s not get off topic here. Your brother owes me, so the three of us, we¡¯re going to go back to my place, then give him a call and see if he wants to get you back.¡± His gaze dipped down to take the girl in briefly before smiling once more. ¡°Who knows, maybe if you¡¯re real good, you can work off some of what he owes. Make it a little easier on everybody.¡± Even as he spoke, the guy used one hand to lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing the revolver stuck into his waistband to illustrate the implicit threat.


    Both friends froze for a moment, processing everything that had just happened and how quickly their situation had changed. Murphy finally shifted just a little, turning to face the man directly, since she had the aisle seat, with Roald next to the window. ¡°Okay, fine, look. I have some money right here, if you just¨C¡± As she was speaking, she rose partway, reaching into her backpack. But it wasn¡¯t cash she came out with. Instead, the girl produced a small canister of pepper spray, which she unleashed into the man¡¯s face while he was anticipating cash. With a cry, the man fell backward in the seat, swiping at his eyes. Yet Murphy didn¡¯t let up, continuing to spray it all over the man as she leaned over him to grab the cord against the opposite window. The ding signaling a requested stop filled the air, as the bus promptly began to move toward the curb.


    Both teenagers bolted toward the front of the bus together, while Luciano bellowed in pain and shouted threats. He was still swiping at his eyes as they practically shoved their way out the still-opening door, ignoring the driver blurting questions at them. The two could hear the drug dealer behind them, staggering toward the front while shouting for the driver not to go anywhere.


    Without looking back, Roald and Murphy took off running toward the nearest building, a three-story apartment place. Unfortunately, the door was locked and neither had any way in. An elderly woman taking mail out of her box within the lobby saw them knock at the door, but shot both a disgusted look before pointedly continuing down the hall.


    ¡°Yeah, fuck you, old cunt!¡± Murphy shouted after her. ¡°I hope you¨C¡±


    ¡°Come on!¡± Roald interrupted, grabbing her arm. He yanked her, and the two of them took off again. By that point, Luciano had made it off the bus, still wiping at his eyes and coughing between blurted threats. He was fumbling for the revolver in his pants, while the pair made it to a nearby alley and darted through it.


    ¡°Really would be nice,¡± Murphy managed between pants as they ran, ¡°to have a couple of those marbles right now. Or any superpowers, really.¡±


    ¡°Just keep running,¡± Roald insisted. By that point, they had reached the end of the alley, where a wall blocked their path. But there was a much narrower space between buildings to the right, where they could squeeze through. It was full of trash and other, likely worse things that neither wanted to think about as they slid their way along. They could hear Luciano making his way through the alley, kicking over trash cans and shouting about what he was going to do when he found them. Yet the two reached the end of the narrow space, emerging into a rear parking lot behind the apartment building they had tried to get into before. Without any hesitation, they took off once more, racing through the lot, crossing the street at a sprint (causing two different cars to blare their horns at the two), cut through the lot of a car wash on the opposite side, then hop a couple fences to dash across the weed and rock-filled ¡®lawns¡¯ of nearby houses.


    By the time the two felt safe enough to stop running, they had gone three more blocks before stopping in the concealing shadows of a large tree to watch the way they had come for five minutes. When they saw no sign of the man who had been chasing them, both exhaled and slumped.


    ¡°We could¡¯ve given him the cash,¡± Roald pointed out.


    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Murphy shot back. ¡°It¡¯s our money, not his. We earned it. Besides, you give a guy like that money and he¡¯ll just keep coming back for more. Nothing¡¯s ever enough. He¡¯s a piece of shit leech.¡± She gave a visible shudder at how skeevy the man had been, before shoving it to the back of her mind. ¡°Come on, now I¡¯m really hungry after all that. I might just get two full combos.¡± She was clearly trying to play off what had just happened, but her voice shook a bit.


    Still, Roald wasn¡¯t going to push things. With a slight nod, the boy gave one last look up and down the street before pushing off the tree. ¡°Sure,¡± he murmured, ¡°let¡¯s get some food.¡±


    ******


    Some time later, Murphy told Roald good night while standing in front of the door of the apartment she shared with her brother. It was on the ground floor, while Roald and his family (his older and younger sisters) lived on the third. The stairs and doors were all on the outside of the building, with no interior space besides the apartments themselves. She watched her friend head up the steps, listening for the sound of him getting into his own apartment before going to unlock the door of hers. On the way, she glanced through the nearby window. In the gap between the curtain and the wall, she could see Tyson lounging on the couch, playing a game.


    ¡°Hey, Ty!¡± Murphy forced enthusiasm into her voice while stepping inside. She took the time to lock, deadbolt, and chain the door behind her. ¡°Got food!¡± Holding up the sack of burgers and fries, she stepped that way. ¡°Figured it was my turn to cook.¡±


    Pushing himself to a sitting position, Tyson looked at her. He took more after their father, looking almost fully black without Murphy¡¯s obvious mixed-heritage. His dark eyes were damp, as she belatedly realized he hadn¡¯t been playing the game at all. He had been crying to himself.


    ¡°Hey,¡± the boy murmured. ¡°Why¡­ why¡¯d you come back? Before, I mean. I¡­ I cut your face, Murph. Why¡¯d you ever come back here with a fuck-up piece of shit like me?¡±


    Exhaling, Murphy stepped that way, sitting down on the couch beside him. ¡°Shut up, dude. Take your burger. I know it¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    ¡°Not my fault,¡± Tyson muttered, shaking his head. He took the offered food, but didn¡¯t unwrap it. Instead, he sat there, staring at the floor for a long moment. ¡°I was supposed to give this cash to this guy, you know. Luciano. Had the cash and everything, after Jaylen finally paid up for that favor last week. But I didn¡¯t. At first, I thought I would. I was going to. Then I was in front of this¡­ place. This rehab place. I don¡¯t even know how I got there. But I was standing there looking at it and all I could see was your face. After I cut it, I mean. All I could see was the stupid, fucked up shit I keep doing. So I uhh¡­ I went inside. I paid ¡®em. I gave them the money, got a reservation. Thirty days. It ain¡¯t the best place, but they¡¯ll take me.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re going into rehab?¡± Murphy carefully asked, squinting at her brother.


    He nodded, pushing himself up from the couch. ¡°Yeah. I just¡­ I¡¯m so sorry, Murph. I¡¯m a fuck-up, and you deserve better than that. Especially with Mom and Dad gone and just¨CI¡¯m gonna be better, okay? I¡¯m gonna go into this place, get through rehab, get a job, a real one, and just¡­ you and me, we¡¯ll be alright. I promise. No more hard shit. No more¡­ none of it. I¡¯m done with all that.¡± Offering her a faint smile then, he extended his hand. ¡°Ain¡¯t gonna be easy, but we¡¯ll be okay. You and me, ain¡¯t nothing we can¡¯t¨C¡±


    In that moment, as Murphy accepted his hand, a rapid series of deafening, cacophonous thunder cracks filled the air. The window shattered inward, glass spraying in every direction, as Tyson jerked repeatedly. His eyes met his sister¡¯s, as he pitched forward, hitting the floor. Blood soaked through his shirt out of half a dozen holes in his back, as he lay in a heap on the floor.


    Through her own scream, Murphy heard the familiar voice from the bus shouting that he should¡¯ve paid, followed by the sound of squealing tires.


    Then the car was gone, leaving Murphy clutching her brother as she screamed, through a grief-torn throat, for help.

 Non-Canon 10 - Paintball And Flea

    Desperate as she was to find the warehouse where Paige had gone, after learning that fact from the voice in the radio held by one of the dead figures lying in a bush on the Banners¡¯ estate, Cassidy gave no notice to the car parked at the end of the driveway as she rushed back out of the garage with her temporarily-borrowed replacement costume in place. If she had actually paid attention to it, she might have noticed that the car hadn¡¯t been there moments earlier when she first raced back in to grab the jumpsuit and helmet so she wouldn¡¯t be paint-racing through town as her civilian self. Which would have caused a number of problems far beyond this one.


    She did, however, notice as a figure stepping right into her path just as she was about to launch herself into the sky. A familiar figure wearing an insectoid-like Samurai mask along with a black chainmail-like top and loose blue pants. She was already raising a hand to make the rushing girl stop. ¡°Hey, hold it right there!¡± The woman snapped the words in a dangerous tone, making it clear there would be problems if her demand wasn¡¯t immediately met. A fact that was made doubly-apparent given the sword she held in her other hand.


    Even being that preoccupied couldn''t make Cassidy ignore the sword pointed at her by one of the city¡¯s main Star-Touched. She came up short, holding up both hands. ¡°Whoa, hey. I know you guys didn''t like it when I decided not to join the Minority, but I didn''t know you went to these sort of recruitment tactics.¡± Joking again? Why was she joking at a time like this?  Was it really that much of an impulse to do whenever she was nervous? She just defaulted to it.


    Flea, for her part, wasn¡¯t amused. It was doubtful that she had even paid attention to the words beyond processing that they weren''t an explanation for what was going on. ¡°Paintball?¡± she snapped, looking the figure up and down. ¡°Prove it¡¯s you. And tell me why you''re wearing some old jumpsuit and helmet that are obviously not yours. And most of all¡­¡± Trailing off, she turned slightly to point at the nearby body in the bush with the sword. ¡°Tell me why there¡¯s a dead security guard over there.¡± Her tone had not turned any less suspicious through that. Nor had she taken her eyes off the other figure for an instant.


    ¡°Uh, okay.¡± Even as the panic about what was happening raced through her mind and made Cassidy want nothing more than to take off right then and there, she quickly pointed at the ground to shoot two bits of yellow and orange paint. ¡°It¡¯s really me,  I just had to borrow the--I--look, the girl who lives here is in trouble. Really bad trouble. I need to do something about it, or she¡¯ll die. So either let me go help her and I''ll find you to explain later, or--¡±


    Flea, in that moment, had already spun to move back to the nearby car. ¡°Come with me. I''ll drive, and you can explain what the hell is going on.¡± By that point she had already reached the vehicle and yanked her door open before gesturing. ¡°Well? You said it was an emergency, so get in, and tell me what happened to--to the Banners girl.¡± She was no longer looking at Paintball suspiciously, but it was very clear that she wouldn¡¯t react well to the other Touched trying to leave on ¡®his¡¯ own. No matter how much Cassidy wanted to.


    So, after only a momentary hesitation, she quickly moved that way to get in the passenger seat. She still wasn''t sure how she would actually explain what was going on, but there wasn''t time to argue about it. And she knew that trying to run off would just result in having the older woman chase after her, which would cause more trouble than she was ready to deal with right then. It wouldn''t do Paige any good if Cassidy got caught up in a struggle against Flea of all people. Anxious as she was, sitting down in the car was the best way to handle the situation.


    Still, she couldn''t keep the frustration and panic out of her voice as she slammed the door and blurted, ¡°Go, go, go, I¡¯ll explain on the way, just go, please!¡± Only belatedly did she remember that the woman had no idea where they were actually going, so she quickly added, ¡°The warehouse over on Gratiot, we have to get over there, right now! If we don¡¯t get there like, now, Paige is gonna die.¡± God, she didn¡¯t even know if Flea knew who Paige was to begin with. Wait, no, she did, maybe? She¡¯d referred to her as the Banners girl. Was that just because she knew which family lived there? And for that matter, why had she been there to begin with? A sudden sinking feeling had snuck its way into Cassidy¡¯s stomach. What if this was a trap of some sort? What if Flea was taking her to the Ministry right now? Or--or what if--


    Those thoughts had managed to jump into her mind within a second of blurting out that rush of words. Which turned out to be all the time she had before suddenly being thrust back in her seat as Flea slammed on the gas, sending the car rocketing forward, toward the house. The reflexive yelp barely made it through her lips before the other woman spun the wheel and expertly pumped the brakes to spin the car mere centimeters from the garage, leaving marks on the ground as it performed a near-perfect one-eighty turn to face the front of the driveway once more. Without any pause at all, Flea hit the gas once more, sending the car practically flying down the driveway and out to the street beyond. They hit the road, spun to the left, and tore off that way even as the woman hit a button under the dash to turn on a very police-like siren.


    Only then, once they were speeding down the street on the way to the warehouse, did Flea glance at the figure beside her. ¡°Talk,¡± she ordered, voice incredibly tense. ¡°We''ve got a couple minutes, so tell me what the hell is going on. No bullshit, I want the truth, Paintball. Where are the Banners, what happened at that party, why is Paige in danger? Who¡¯s trying to kill her? And why are you in a cheap ripoff costume?¡±


    Right, now they were at the really hard part. Cassidy didn''t have any more excuses in that moment. She had to explain at least some of it. She had to tell Flea enough about what was going on to satisfy her, without saying too much, just in case. But what could she actually say?  How could she talk about anything to do with Paige without giving away her own identity? It was so hard and dangerous, just talking about it at all. It felt as though every word she thought about saying was a potential minefield that could blow up in her face. She had to be so careful with this.


    Finally, after a few seconds that felt like hours, she slowly started. ¡°Awhile back, I noticed these guys abduct Paige Banners and put her in the back of a van at gunpoint.¡±


    That was enough to make Flea snap her gaze that way, voice rising. ¡°You noticed Paige get abducted at gunpoint? Why didn¡¯t she--I mean why wasn¡¯t it reported? This city may have a lot of criminal shit going on, but I''m pretty sure I would have noticed a report about the Banners kid getting thrown in the back of a van by guys with guns.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she didn¡¯t exactly report it afterward,¡± Cassidy muttered, shaking her head before pushing on. ¡°I followed the van and it took her out to the woods by the river. The guys got her out and were about to--uh, you know, shoot her in the head.¡± She could see the woman look at her with what was obviously shock and incredulity even through the mask, but pushed on, gripping the armrest tightly as a rush of anxiety ran through her. ¡°I mean, obviously I couldn¡¯t let that happen. So I jumped in and stopped them. Then we had to run away because there were more of the guys. We took off into the woods.¡±


    From there, Cassidy gave her a condensed and slightly sanitized version of that whole situation, explaining how they had ended up rushing through the woods, that Paige had told her about the man who could manipulate people¡¯s memories through physical contact, their eventual escape on the boat, and the way Paige had gone into the internet cafe to upload the information she had apparently stolen from the bad guys that would make them leave her alone, then just completely disappeared.


    All that was completely true. But from there, Cassidy embellished a little bit. She talked about how she had searched all over the place at different high schools before finally finding the one that Paige went to, trying to make sure the girl was okay after what happened with the gang she had apparently stolen enough blackmail information from to make them back off once it was safely uploaded.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Flea finally interrupted. ¡°What gang are you talking about? Which one?¡±


    There was a very brief pause before Cassidy replied, ¡°I¡¯m not sure, just that they¡¯re really dangerous and they don¡¯t want people to know about them, or something. Anyway, that Paige girl knew about them, and the information she stole was pretty important. I didn¡¯t--um, I didn¡¯t believe they¡¯d leave her alone forever, so I wanted to check on her. You know, just in case. I wanted her to know she could call for help if--um, if something bad happened. So I saw they were having a party over at the house and I umm, I sort of crashed it. I snuck in.¡±


    Flea gave her another lingering look, gaze moving up and down before she spoke a bit doubtfully. ¡°You snuck into a high schooler party and they didn¡¯t notice?¡±


    Okay, ouch, that one hurt for reasons Flea couldn¡¯t possibly have known. Still, Cassidy pushed her reflexive feelings aside and gave a short nod. ¡°I mean, they weren¡¯t really paying a lot of attention past all the crazy stuff Paige had out for her birthday, you know? They were distracted and I just stayed in the group. I wanted to see what was going on and umm, maybe see what kind of person Paige was before I got closer to her.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    There was a brief pause before Flea gave a short nod. ¡°I understand. Believe me, you wouldn¡¯t be the first younger boy to have a crush on an older, pretty girl.¡±


    Coughing violently, Cassidy forced back her first seven reflexive reactions to those words. God, God there was so much she wanted to say to that. But none of it was good. All of it would risk her identity. No, nope, couldn¡¯t say any of that. She was a young boy, she was a young teenage boy, of course she would find Paige attractive. It made perfect sense, so arguing about it was--she wouldn¡¯t--change the subject. She had to change the subject. This was entirely too dangerous. Not to mention uncomfortable.


    Forcing those thoughts away, she pointedly continued. ¡°I guess Paige noticed though, because um, she sort of led me into a room in the garage and trapped me there just before¡­ something happened. I don¡¯t know, exactly. I was unconscious for awhile, I think there was some sort of gas or something? Whatever, the point is, she left me a message about how her biological dad--she was adopted, about how he was forcing her to do some bad things, and the only way to stop him was for her to go, umm, k-kill all the people who work for him and then¡­ and then kill herself. So I broke out and found that guy dead out there in the driveway, heard them mention the warehouse on the radio, and ran back into the garage to um, borrow this to wear. Then you showed up.¡± Once she got to that point, Cassidy turned, painting a squinting face across the front of the helmet to demonstrate her own expression. ¡°Why did you show up?¡±


    There was a very brief pause before the woman answered, ¡°Mr. Banners donates a lot of money to help keep the Conservators and other Star-Touched groups in the state going. There are a few perks that come with that, and in this case he asked for someone to stop by to see his daughter on her birthday. I pulled in a little late and um, found several bodies.¡± She trailed off uncomfortably, gripping the wheel noticeably tighter for a moment before adding, ¡°You''re saying that those people all work for Paige¡¯s father--her biological father, and she¡¯s the one who¡­ who killed them. You¡¯re saying Paige killed those people and she¡¯s killing more right now, as we speak. She did that, she killed them.¡± Repeating those words didn''t seem to make it easier for the woman to accept.


    Scrunching into the corner of the seat, not wanting to look at the woman for fear of giving more away than she wanted to, Cassidy gave a short nod. ¡°I think so. I mean, it¡¯s all just¡­ a lot to take in, you know? I didn''t know she was capable of anything like that. But she said her dad is going to make her do even worse things if she doesn¡¯t¡­ um, do this.¡±


    ¡°Kill herself,¡± Flea finished for her, voice blunt. ¡°She thinks she has to kill herself. I don¡¯t--why wouldn¡¯t she just--I--¡± Cutting herself off, she stared straight ahead, lost in her own thoughts for a moment before abruptly pushing harder on the gas to send the car screaming down the street. ¡°We¡¯ll be there soon. We¡¯ll ask her.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should turn the siren off?¡± Cassidy pointed out a bit hesitantly. ¡°You know, so they don''t hear us coming from ten miles away. I know you¡¯re like, a frontline superhero and all that, gotta be a beacon for the populace, but the element of surprise is vastly underrated sometimes.¡±


    After the very briefest of pauses, Flea nodded and flipped the siren off. ¡°Fair point,¡± she agreed before glancing that way, voice softening. ¡°I can handle this myself, you know. If you want to get out, I wouldn''t blame you. This isn¡¯t your problem.¡± It sounded as though what she really wanted to do was tell Paintball to get out of the car and let her handle it, but didn''t feel right about that.


    Cassidy, for her part, shook her head quickly. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯ve been in this since I saw those guys grab Paige. I¡¯ve gotta see it through.¡±


    Both fell silent for a moment then, and soon the car was turning the corner and approaching the gate into the warehouse parking lot just in time to see the taillights of another car ahead of them pull in, moving so fast the vehicle caught a bit of air going over the driveway.


    ¡°Stay with me,¡± Flea ordered. ¡°Do what I tell you to and don¡¯t question it until we¡¯re done. If I tell you to drop and hide, you drop and hide. I don''t know what we¡¯re about to run into in this place, but if I say it''s too dangerous and you need to get the hell out, you do it.¡±


    By the time she had finished saying that, they had already made it into the lot itself. The sedan ahead of them had stopped, and several men were getting out. They turned to face the incoming car, just as Flea brought it skidding to a halt, lunging out. The men reacted quickly, but she was faster. The instant her foot hit the ground, the woman launched herself fifteen feet in the air, while a hand sent one sword flying down to take the gun out of the nearest man¡¯s hand. She flipped over, evading the shots from two more men before landing behind them with one hand raised. When they reacted by spinning toward her, she caught one of their guns with her second blade and knocked it aside while elbowing the other man.


    Soon, they were on the ground, and Paintball had finished with the remaining two (including the one who had been disarmed by the hurled sword). Flea, taking a moment to ensure the area was clear, walked that way and plucked the weapon up from the ground, sheathing it once more while muttering, ¡°That¡¯s really weird.¡±


    Rising up after using pink paint to yank a piece of asphalt up and over the two men she had hit, Paintball blinked. ¡°What? The paint? Yeah, it¡¯s pretty screwy, huh?¡±


    ¡°No, not--I mean yes, that¡¯s weird too,¡± Flea allowed. ¡°But my¡­ draining power, it didn¡¯t do anything to the men. They should have been unconscious before they even managed to turn around. But it was like they weren¡¯t affected at all.¡± She had turned back, squinting in the direction of the unconscious figures, who were still jerking and struggling against the stay-down cuffs she had locked them into. ¡°They should be unconscious right now. But¡­ they¡¯re not.¡± Her head shook. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s weird. All of this is weird. Come on, I need answers. We need answers. And I¡¯m pretty sure Paige Banners is the only one who can actually provide them.¡±


    The two of them made their way inside. Not through the front door, but through a window on one of the upper levels. Soon, they were moving quickly through the office area of the warehouse, following what turned out to be the sound of many more men all heading for one location. It wasn¡¯t hard to guess who those men were going after.


    Furthering the feeling of confusion, as they went on, was the fact that all of the men the pair ran into on their way were equally unaffected by Flea¡¯s stamina-draining power. One or two might have been some sort of Touched who were immune. But all of them being so made the Conservator suspect some sort of Touched-Tech was involved. Yet she could find nothing on the men on a brief search. This was all¡­ very strange. And seemed to become stranger by the moment.


    Their path led them in a winding way through the building, always following the sound of men who seemed to know where they were going. And the sound of gunshots. When they began to hear those, Flea picked up the pace, sprinting through the hall with Paintball right beside her.


    Eventually, the trail led them to a room full of computer servers. They arrived just in time to see the girl in question drive a long knife in through the throat of one man, catching the back of his head to hold him steady as she forced the knife through the throat and into his brain as far as it would go before shoving the body away to fall to the ground.


    ¡°Paige!¡± Flea blurted before Cassidy could even open her mouth. There was shock in her voice, as she stood flatfooted, staring that way.


    Paige, in turn, spun with the knife raised to throw. Seeing those two, however, she froze. If anything, she was just as surprised by their appearance as they were by what they had just seen. ¡°Paintball? I--Flea? What¡­ what?¡± There was more than mere surprise in her voice. Anxiety was there too.


    Flea was shaking her head.  ¡°What--what did you--why¡­ you¡¯re not¡­ what¡­¡± She walked forward very slowly, gaze dropping to stare at the body on the floor. ¡°You killed him. Them. It was really you. You¡­ what¡­¡± She raised her gaze from the body to the girl, staring that way. ¡°Paintball told me you locked him in the room so you could run off and¡ª¡±


    She was interrupted by Paige¡¯s abrupt, ¡°Paintball told you?¡± Her own gaze had snapped over to look at Cassidy with new realization, eyes widening.


    ¡°Yes, and don¡¯t be mad at him,¡± Flea put in, misinterpreting the look on the girl¡¯s face. ¡°It was¡ª¡± she looked back-and-forth between them, a flood of emotions clearly running through the woman given her body language. ¡°Paige, what is going on? You killed these people. You¡­¡±


    ¡°Stop, just stop!¡± Paige blurted while raising both hands. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª I can¡¯t explain without saying things I shouldn¡¯t say.¡± She was looking at Paintball, her meaning clear. Then, after taking a deep breath, she added, ¡°You can trust her. She¡¯s not one of them. One hundred percent. She¡¯s not one of them.¡±


    Flea echoed, ¡°Not one of them? What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s telling me I can trust you,¡± Paintball explained without taking her eyes off of Paige. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if I can trust her.¡± Cassidy held that stare for a long moment before sighing. ¡°But maybe I don¡¯t have a choice right now, not if I want answers.¡±


    Flea started to say that answers would be a damn good thing to have, but cut herself off as Paintball reached up to pull off the helmet.


    ¡°So,¡± Cassidy announced once the helmet and mask were off, ¡°I might have fibbed a little bit about why I was at the party.¡±


    ¡°The Evans girl?¡± Flea blurted incredulously. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m not too proud to say I have no idea what the fuck is going on.¡± She kept snapping her head back and forth between the two of them, as though having no idea which would shock her more next.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling her,¡± Paige informed the woman, with a nod toward Paintball. ¡°She trusted you. More than you even know right now.¡± When she got no disagreement, Paige looked to Cassidy. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ the Banners¡¯ real daughter. Their older daughter. I know her. I know she¡¯s not one of them.¡±


    ¡°Her sister,¡± Flea pointedly clarified. ¡°She¡¯s my adopted sister. And who the hell is this they you keep talking about? And¡­ and when did you start killing people?!¡±


    At that, Paige and Cassidy exchanged looks. The blonde girl abruptly broke the stare, reaching down to grab the fallen form of the man she had shoved the knife into. Before the other two could object, she drove the blade into the top of his head once more and cut it open to show them the metal orb within. ¡°First, these things aren¡¯t real. They¡¯re cyborgs. My father makes them. And second, the they we keep talking about is a very long conversation.


    ¡°But if you both help me, maybe we¡¯ll even survive long enough to have it.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 12

    Elena and Sterling


    As the door into the private hotel suite swung open, Elena Evans glanced up from the chair where she was sitting on the other side of the front living room. Two spoken words made the television pause in the middle of a news broadcast, freezing the reporter¡¯s face while she was explaining exactly what had happened to expose the true identities of Pencil and Cup. Or at least, what was publicly known. Elena, however, had a much better source, who was coming in the room at that very moment. And a more pressing concern in that instant.


    ¡°Is she alright?¡± the woman asked, rising from the seat.


    Sterling, closing the door after him, gave her an immediate nod. ¡°Izzy¡¯s fine,¡± he assured her. ¡°I spoke to her a bit as Silversmith. She¡¯s not hurt or anything. She and Amber played the cavalry for Paintball and that new one, Alloy. Turns out they were smart enough not to all go in at once.¡±


    Darkly, Elena noted, ¡°Yet not smart enough to pull in more help before investigating something like the Scions.¡± Taking a breath before letting it out to calm herself, the woman reached down to pick up a glass of wine, taking a sip from it before pursing her lips thoughtfully. ¡°I know we decided it was best to leave the boy alone so long as he does not cause direct problems. But now he has taken Izzy into that sort of situation. However well-meaning he may be, he still helped put her in danger. What would we do if he had put Cassidy in that situation?¡±


    With a grimace, Sterling shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s immaterial, because she would never be in a situation like that. She¡¯s not a part of all this. Which, remember, was intentional. She gets to have a normal life for as long as possible before we involve her.¡±


    Elena took another sip of the wine while gazing steadily at him. ¡°That¡¯s not the point. If she was pulled into that sort of danger, the very first thing you would do is have a talk with that boy about responsibilities and being careful. And what can happen if he¡¯s not.¡± She held up the hand that wasn¡¯t holding the wine glass. ¡°I¡¯m not saying go after him too hard. I¡¯m just saying maybe have a chat with him. Make sure he knows just how badly this could have gone and that the next time he has important information that could lead to that sort of danger, he needs to involve others. Adult others, who have the experience and resources to deal with it. And while you¡¯re at it, maybe you should talk to Amber as well. She really should have known to involve someone else as soon as the Scions were mentioned.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, but I¡¯ll give it a few days,¡± Sterling replied. ¡°Right now everything that we want to say to them is already playing through their heads. Believe me, I could hear it in their voices. Give it time to calm down a little bit. Let them work their way through all the what-ifs. Then I¡¯ll talk to them and make sure it sticks. If we push too hard, too fast, it will just make them defensive. Let their own imaginations be the bad guys first.¡±


    With a very small smile, Elena set the glass down and stepped over to wrap her arms around him. ¡°You have learned a lot over the years,¡± she informed her husband fondly, running her hands up his back. ¡°Is that from running our business, or raising a couple of children?¡±


    ¡°I think the correct answer is yes,¡± he replied with a chuckle as his arms closed around her. He held his wife close and rocked back and forth with her for a moment, both of them instinctively moving to the imagined sound of the song that had played during their first dance as a married couple. It was also the first one they had danced to while dating. Their song was ¡°Nothing¡¯s Gonna Stop Us Now¡± by the band Starship. It was their thing, because their first date, all those years ago, had been¡­ rather different. Elena¡¯s father had sent goons after her to find out who she was breaking away to see, and if he had known that it was one of his very own junior accountants, Sterling never would have survived the night. The two of them had been forced to hide out in the attic of some old woman for hours while the men scoured the streets. There had been a television and ancient VCR up there, along with a single video tape, for the original Mannequin film. Thus, that had been their first real date, sitting in an attic, watching a VHS recording of a movie that was already over a decade old at that point on a small television. And it was still one of the best memories either of them had.


    After a few long moments of that, Elena quietly spoke up. ¡°I don¡¯t want anything to happen to Izzy. That girl deserves¡­ she deserves everything. If they¡¯d been taken by those psychopaths¡­¡± She trailed off then, though the tension was evident in her body language.


    Sterling, in turn, held her closer. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to them,¡± he promised in a gentle voice, ¡°and make sure they know that there are people they can call for help in situations like that. If not me, then others. They did call Flea afterward, so there¡¯s already a connection with her. As long as they talk to someone, we should find out.¡± He leaned back, putting both hands on her shoulders. ¡°She¡¯s okay, Elena. Izzy¡¯s fine. She¡¯s a tough kid, you know that. We both do. She¡¯ll be okay. And if she gets close to Paintball, that¡¯s one more in that we have with the kid when the time comes to actually do something about that whole situation.¡±


    ¡°Izzy¡¯s safety comes first, before any of that,¡± Elena reminded him pointedly. ¡°She¡¯s been through too much for us to put her in deliberate danger.¡±


    ¡°No deliberate danger,¡± Sterling agreed. ¡°She¡¯s too important for that. She and Cassidy both. They¡¯ve been getting closer, you know. Always hanging out together in that game room. Selena said she saw them sleeping together in Cassidy¡¯s bed the other morning.¡±


    The words made Elena smile. ¡°Good,¡± she murmured, ¡°I¡¯m glad they¡¯re getting along. Those two¡­¡± She exhaled thoughtfully, turning a bit to pick up her wine glass once more. ¡°Perhaps we can tell them the truth together, explain it all to them when the time comes. Izzy is already involved in the¡­ Touched side of things. It won¡¯t be as hard to tell her why our way keeps the situation from spiraling too far out of control. She¡¯s seen how terrible things can be.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± With that word, Sterling fell silent, thinking for a moment before his head shook. ¡°Either way, in the meantime, it¡¯s best we encourage those two to be as close as possible. Maybe she¡¯ll be comfortable telling Cassidy about her¡­ extracurricular activities soon.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should encourage that, gently,¡± Elena noted. ¡°She may confide things with Cassidy then, including any future possible danger. And you know how Cassidy is.


    ¡°If she knows something, she¡¯ll tell us.¡±


    ******


    Cup and Pencil


    The newscaster¡¯s voice was interrupted mid-speech by the sound of an enraged scream. That was immediately followed by a loud crash as a heavy lamp was hurled into the television, destroying both as the flat screen fell onto its back with a shower of broken glass.


    ¡°Would it make you feel better if we did that to the annoying twat herself?¡± Pencil asked curiously, as he lounged in a recliner on the other side of the room. It was meant to be a reading corner, as this place had, at one point, been a fairly popular bookstore. But it had been closed for over a year (thanks to the mysterious death of the owner, who had dared to say something annoying), and was only one of several private and secure hideouts that the Scions had set up long ago. Now, most of the books were gone, though the shelves remained. It was on one of those that the television had been placed.


    There was a small apartment area in the back of the building where the former owner had lived, and the Scions had installed a heavy-duty freezer down in the basement. Between what was in there, and the pantry they had been sure to stock up, there were enough supplies in this place for up to ten people to live comfortably for as long as six months, without stepping foot outside. Things weren¡¯t that bad, nowhere near. Most of the Scions¡¯ identities were still secure, and there were always disguises for those who weren¡¯t. But if the time came and they really had to go underground until the heat died off, it wouldn¡¯t be a problem. At least, not as far as being fed went.


    Pivoting to face her brother as she stood, panting from the anger that still filled her even after taking it out on the news broadcast that had been reporting about their identities, Amanda retorted, ¡°The reporter? You know, fun as that would be, since I never liked that sanctimonious cunt, I¡¯ve got a few better targets in mind.¡±


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you do,¡± Nick agreed, pushing himself up from his chair. ¡°And yet, I¡¯m afraid they¡¯ll be a little out of our reach for the moment. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure you have a few appetizers as a warm-up while we wait for a good opening. After all, you don¡¯t want to be so angry that you let the poor dears go and die on us too early. You know how disappointed you were after we grabbed your old English teacher and you got too excited. You had two weeks of fun activities planned and then you just cut her throat the second she recognized you. We can do better than that. Work out your frustration on smaller fish. Then, when we have the real deal in front of us, you can have a lot more fun.¡±


    Stepping over that way, he took his sister¡¯s hands and tugged her close for a long, lingering kiss. ¡°Now, babe, why don¡¯t you tell me exactly what happened, from the top.¡± He had waited until now, aside from getting the basics so that he would know how bad it was, because he wanted to give her time to calm down slightly. But he didn¡¯t want to wait too long.


    A brief glower crossed the young woman¡¯s face before she caught herself and sighed. ¡°Fine. But I want you to hold me while I do. Otherwise I¡¯ll just get worked up again and break another TV.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got plenty,¡± Nick assured her. Still, he tugged the girl with him back over to the recliner and sat down while pulling Amanda onto his lap. ¡°There we go. Now tell Saint Nick all about what you want for Christmas. And what happened back at the apartment.¡±


    ¡°I want a paring knife and those kids strapped down to a table,¡± Amanda snarled before shifting against him with another sigh as she pushed on. ¡°As for what happened, we got so fucking close to having those fucking shits. They were right¡­¡± She grimaced, forcing her anger down before it got the better of her. With some effort, she pushed through the whole story of what had happened from the moment those three had appeared on her balcony. Nick was quiet and didn¡¯t interrupt, allowing her to go off on just a couple tangents about what she wanted to do before gently squeezing her leg as a reminder to stay on task.


    Once she had finally finished, Nick reached up to brush his hand through her hair gently. His voice was quiet. ¡°Well, you know you really should have called in help immediately, and left with the brats as soon as you had them secure. There¡¯s a reason we had Scions stationed so close.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± the girl sulked. ¡°I should have called in the others and then those other fucks wouldn¡¯t have been able to get out so easily. Maybe we could have held on to at least one of them then.¡± Her voice was mournful, regretting the loss of that opportunity. ¡°Can you imagine how much fun we¡¯d be having right now with that Paintboy, or his new sidekick? Ooh, imagine sending pieces of her to him. Just think about his face.¡± A giggle escaped her, as she excited herself with the thought.


    ¡°Such a loss,¡± Nick agreed. ¡°But we¡¯ll have our moment with them. We just have to be patient.¡±


    ¡°Buuuut Nick, being patient is boring,¡± Amanda lamented while curling up against him with her arms around his neck. ¡°You must have plans for something fun we can do, right?¡± The words came in a quiet, thoroughly distracting purr.


    A slight chuckle escaped him while he leaned back and tilted her chin up so he could kiss her once more. ¡°You know I can¡¯t really deny you things when you use that voice. But we do need to be careful. People know our faces right now, babe. We can¡¯t walk around like we used to. Not yet, anyway. I¡¯ve got some plans for that.¡±


    ¡°Oooh!¡± Shifting playfully, Amanda ran her fingers up along his cheek. ¡°I knew you¡¯d have something. Tell me, tell me, tell me. I wanna know all about them.¡±


    ¡°Later,¡± he promised while catching her hand and squeezing it. ¡°There¡¯s still a few things to take care of. And we need to stay off the radar for a while. Paintball and those other shits get a pass for now. But their moment will come, sooner or later. You¡¯ll get your chance with the paring knife.¡±


    Tugging her over to lay her head back on his shoulder, the man added pointedly. ¡°But in the meantime, why don¡¯t we order delivery?¡±


    Curious, Amanda asked, ¡°You want food right now?¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± he replied, ¡°I was thinking of sending one of the boys out to grab that reporter.


    ¡°After all, you never liked that sanctimonious cunt.¡±


    *******


    Melissa (Blackjack¡¯s daughter)


    ¡°There, drill there, use the drill there!¡± Sitting on the floor in Melissa Abbot¡¯s bed/hospital room, Isaiah Coleman pointed at the screen while gesturing emphatically. In public, the man (who could have been mistaken for a young Lando Calrissian in his late twenties) was known as the Fell-Touched Hardway. But at the moment, he was dressed very casually, simply sitting on a pillow while excitedly blurting, ¡°You can¡¯t miss the chest, it¡¯s got the extra component. We need that to fix the cannon on the ship so we can blow the living fudge out of that pirate lady.¡±


    In one life, the man was an insurance salesman with a wife and a son who was three years old. In his other life, he was one of the most versatile and effective Touched in the city (his power allowed him to manipulate motion and inertia of both himself and anything within six feet). But right now? Right now he was simply excitedly calling out directions for the room¡¯s other occupant. The person who actually lived here.


    Melissa, meanwhile, clutched the controller in both hands, her gaze intent on the large monitor. Cassidy Inawhile (the stuffed pink crocodile on a skateboard) and Inspector Guillotine (the detective bear in the trenchcoat and deerstalker hat) sat in front of her where she had positioned them. ¡°I know, I know!¡± she called out, twisting her entire body to the side while rapidly pressing buttons as she fought to deal with the enemies on-screen fast enough to use the drill properly without being interrupted. She was a slender, slight girl, a bit too small for her age of nine thanks to years of growing up while affected by the terrible Rot Bone disease. Though incredibly lucky in the sense that she had survived the disease far longer than anyone else with that level of infection, it had still hurt her growth. She looked more like a seven-year-old than her actual age, and (assuming she continued to survive), that would follow her into the future. She would always be smaller than her peers. Her light brown hair was worn in a loose braid, and the girl was dressed in a set of black sweatpants with gold lightning bolts across them, and a white tank top that had an anthropomorphic blue unicorn strumming an electric guitar.


    ¡°I got it, I got it, I got it¡­¡± the girl chanted, her words more hope than declaration. The last enemy on the screen was being a real pain, and if her character died here, they¡¯d have to go through a lot to find their way back to this spot. She bit her lip and hit the dodge button, gasping as a shot came close. ¡°You do it!¡± she blurted as her finger found the pause. ¡°I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t kill him!¡±


    ¡°You can,¡± came the immediate response from Isaiah as he shifted his weight a bit but made no move to actually take the controller. ¡°You¡¯ve got this. That punk¡¯s nothing. Not anymore. You can chew him up and spit him out for breakfast.¡±


    With a giggle, the girl looked that way. ¡°You spit out your breakfast, Uncle Isaiah? That¡¯s weird.¡±


    Glancing that way, the man offered her a wink. ¡°It¡¯s possible I mixed my metaphors.¡± After a brief pause, he asked, ¡°You know what a metaphor is?¡±


    She, in turn, gave a short nod. ¡°Uh huh. I read a lot,¡± Melissa murmured while glancing toward the nearby bed. It was a bed she had spent many, many hours of every day in, to avoid stressing her bones. She read a lot and also wrote a lot. She made up stories and told them to her father, and to anyone else who would listen. In a way, she both loved and hated that bed. It was comfort and safety, and she was so happy to still be alive. She knew how lucky she was. Even at her young age, circumstances demanded that she mature to the point of understanding what this disease meant, and how incredible her survival was. She had known what death meant for years. The bed meant she was safe. And yet, the bed was also symbolic of the fact that she had never been able to go anywhere else. She couldn¡¯t go out of the room, she couldn¡¯t run around and play with other kids, definitely couldn¡¯t go to school, couldn¡¯t really live like so many others did so casually every day.


    As much as Melissa lived her life through reading and through writing her own stories, that couldn¡¯t entirely replace everything she wanted to do. The stories allowed her some level of escape, as did these video games. But there was only so much they could do. The girl who dreamed of flying could hardly take an unaided step too quickly without risking a fractured ankle or leg.


    Seeing where she was looking, Isaiah quietly asked, ¡°So, how are you doing lately, kid? How¡¯s that medicine working out for you? Helping get you back to where you were?¡±


    After a brief hesitation, the girl gave a very short nod. ¡°It helps,¡± she murmured softly. ¡°I can walk with my crutches a little bit now. Just around the room. Dad doesn¡¯t want me to go any further.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s just looking out for you,¡± Isaiah assured her. ¡°You know that, right?¡±


    Once more, her head bobbed. ¡°I know. But I think I make him sad. Sometimes when he thinks I¡¯m asleep, he¡¯ll stand in the doorway over there and watch me for a long time. I think he misses my mom. But he doesn¡¯t want to talk about her. He never wants to talk about her.¡±


    Swallowing hard as a flood out of his own memories passed through his mind, Isaiah forced himself to respond. ¡°You¡¯re wrong about that, kid. You definitely don¡¯t make him sad. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen the boss happier than when he¡¯s with you.¡±


    Meeting his gaze intently for a few long seconds, Melissa slowly replied, ¡°I¡¯m gonna get better, you know. I¡¯m going to be able to walk out with my crutches, and then without them. I¡¯m going to walk and then run all the way outside. I¡¯m gonna jump on a trampoline. I¡¯m gonna go skateboarding, like Cassidy.¡± She indicated the stuffed toy by her leg. ¡°This bone stuff, it¡¯s gonna lose. I¡¯m gonna kick its butt. And then I¡¯m coming for the world¡¯s butt.¡±


    With a small smile, Isaiah reached out to very gently brush her hair. ¡°I¡¯m gonna hold you to that, kid. Pretty sure we¡¯ll all hold you to it. Now how about we start with beating this guy right¨C¡±


    ¡°Uncle Isaiah, what¡¯s that?¡± Melissa abruptly interrupted, raising a hand to point past him.


    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± He started to turn that way.


    She, meanwhile, leaned up and reached past him, toward something hovering directly behind the man. ¡°That.


    ¡°The glowing ball thingie.¡±

 Interlude 19B - Melissa Abbot

    No sooner had Melissa asked her pseudo-uncle what the orb floating behind him was, than she noticed that he wasn¡¯t moving anymore. Frozen in mid-turn, his mouth open to say something, the man could havse been a statue in one of those wax museums she had always wanted to walk through. Some part of her acknowledged the strangeness of that, but the majority of her attention was entirely centered on the curious ball with glowing hieroglyphics. She knew what this was. She did, right? The thought was there at the back of her mind, but, just like her worry about Uncle Isaiah, it wouldn¡¯t come into her head. Every reaction, every thought, everything else was being pushed down, except for her curiosity about the orb itself. It was so interesting, that nothing else seemed to matter. Not even her own memories about what this thing was. Finally, her hand crossed the rest of the distance, pressing against the side of the orb.


    And then, for the first time in almost as long as she could remember, Melissa wasn¡¯t in her room. She stood in what appeared to be a completely empty landscape. The whole world around her was a dull gray, featureless place, surrounded by thick fog. There was nothing to see, and yet, it was one of the most joyous moments of her life. She was somewhere other than her room. She was standing in a new place, a strange and empty, yet delightful place.


    And yes, she did know what this was. She had read so many stories and watched so many interviews about what finding one of these orbs was like, that the fact that she had not recognized it at first was baffling. It had to be an effect of the orb itself, the nine-year-old reasoned. The orbs obviously did something to make people who saw them not think about what they actually were. Or something.


    Even as that thought came to mind, the girl realized she had started to walk. She wasn¡¯t using her crutches, and yet she was walking just fine. It didn¡¯t hurt. She didn¡¯t feel that familiar ache in her bones from putting her weight on her leg. Looking down at her own feet with a choked noise of mixed confusion and delight, she thought about how her father had always looked when he watched her while believing she was asleep.


    The moment that thought came to mind, she saw an image of her father standing in a doorway appear in the fog ahead of her. She saw the pain in his eyes, and the blazing anger behind them. Anger that he never willingly allowed her to see, but which she knew was there anyway.


    She saw her own bed, the vials that were so important to her continued survival, other members of La Casa who had come and gone from her room, even her stuffed animals. All those images and more played through the fog as she walked. The images came faster and faster, finally bringing the girl to a halt as their rapid appearance made her dizzy. She stopped, eyes wide as she centered her gaze straight ahead, to where the rush of images was the brightest.


    Abruptly, the kaleidoscope stopped, revealing a single image. It was the orb that she had just touched. That picture, hovering in the fog in front of her, became the only thing she could focus on, the only thing she could think about. Everything else fell away. Nothing mattered. Not her illness, not her father, not her stories. Nothing else but that orb. It was her entire universe for those few seconds.


    And then¡­ she heard the voice. The voice others had talked about. That single, female voice speaking two words.


    ¡°Summus Proelium.¡±


    With those two words echoing their way through her mind, Melissa reeled backward, only to find herself in the real world once more. She was still seated on the floor, but quickly rose to her feet reflexively, stumbling back a step.


    Uncle Isaiah was moving again. His gaze snapped around. ¡°What ball? What are you¨C¡± Then he looked at her, and his eyes went wide. A strangled noise of shock escaped the man as he jerked himself upright so quickly he nearly fell over. ¡°The fuck?!¡±


    ¡°Hey now,¡± Melissa¡¯s father chastised as he came through the door carrying a tray of food. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I was going to have to ask you of all people to watch your language around my¨C¡± Abruptly, he stopped talking, having just in that moment looked up from the tray. His eyes found their way to Melissa, and the tray fell from his hands. The food and bowls scattered across the floor, but the man didn¡¯t pay attention to any of that. All he could do was stare at her, mouth open. A couple of times it looked as though he was trying to say something, but no sound emerged. All he could do was stand there and stare. Which, given who her father was and how much he had been through, was starting to scare the girl.


    ¡°U-Uncle Isaiah?¡± she blurted. ¡°Daddy? What¨Cwhat¡¯s wrong? What?¡± In that moment, the girl caught a glimpse of something in the nearby wall-mounted mirror. Her gaze snapped that way, only to finally see herself the way her father and Isaiah did.


    At first she didn¡¯t see anything at all. It was as though she was invisible. But then she looked a little closer and realized the truth. She wasn¡¯t invisible. Not exactly.


    Her skin was gone. Or rather, transformed, along with the rest of her body. She appeared to be made of glass. Her face, hair, hands, legs, all of her. Even the clothes she wore had turned to glass. An intricately carved statue of it. Or of ice. It was so detailed, she could see her own expression staring back at her in the mirror. Her glass eyebrows rose, her glass mouth fell open, she could see her glass tongue. There were no internal organs to see. Her body was close to transparent, as it was possible to see straight through her to the other side.


    As soon as she saw herself, the girl let out a squeal of surprise and jerked backward. She tripped over her own feet and fell. With a terrifying crash, her body shattered into hundreds of little pieces of glass that scattered across the floor.


    And¡­ and it didn¡¯t hurt at all. Even as the sound of her father¡¯s scream filled the room, Melissa could see him from hundreds of different angles. She saw the way he came rushing in, still in mid-scream. She saw and heard it from every shard of glass she had shattered into. It was¡­ it was so strange. It felt weird, and yet completely normal at the same time. She could simultaneously see from every piece of glass, allowing a view of her father¡¯s front and sides as he stopped right over where her body had been standing. Somehow¡­ somehow she could see it all at the same time and it wasn¡¯t confusing.


    I wish I wasn¡¯t broken. Then I could tell my Daddy I¡¯m okay.


    The moments that thought came to her mind, Melissa felt the individual pieces of herself rise off the ground. A gasp escaped both men in the room as the shards all floated into the air around them. They came together, spinning into a tornado. Through it all, the girl found herself thinking of her own form, the way she was supposed to be. And then the tornado stopped, and she was back. She was herself again, fully intact, as though nothing had happened. Well, as though she hadn¡¯t fallen and broken apart, anyway.


    ¡°Daddy!¡± the girl blurted, even as her father let out a choked sob and grabbed her. He was as gentle as always, pulling her close carefully into what was, for them, a tight hug.


    ¡°Melissa. Melissa, baby, what happened? What¨Chow did¨Cwhat¨C¡±


    So, she explained about how she had seen the orb behind Isaiah and reached out to touch it. ¡°There were all th-the holograms and stuff like people said. Like you, and Uncle Isaiah, and the others, and the bed, and Inspector Guillotine, all of it, all of them. They were all there, and I saw them, and then the orb was there, and it said the words, and then I was back here. And I was like this.¡± Frowning uncertainly, she looked down at her own hand. Still made of glass. Her entire body was made of glass. In gaining powers, she had gone from a girl whose bones could shatter easily, to someone entirely made of glass. She could shatter even more easily now. And yet¡­ and yet it didn¡¯t matter. She had shattered. She had broken apart into hundreds of pieces from something as simple as falling. And then she had just come right back together again as though nothing had happened. Just like that, she was fine.


    ¡°Dad?¡± she finally managed, looking back up to find her father staring at her, still having not let go.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I need the medicine anymore.¡±


    *******


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s okay, Daddy?¡±


    Several hours later, after a lot of talking and even more experimentation, Melissa and her father stood in one of many large garages owned by La Casa. A dozen different vehicles, of wildly different makes, models, and colors, filled the space around them.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    She was out of her room. She was standing in the garage with her father. She had been walking through the facility all day long. That, in and of itself, was nearly as big of a deal, as far as Melissa was concerned, as her newfound powers themselves. She wasn¡¯t stuck in bed. She wasn¡¯t trapped in that room. She could leave, walk around, talk to people.


    Not that she ended up talking to many of them. Not yet, anyway. Her father didn¡¯t want many to know what was going on with her for the time being. He simply ordered everyone out of any place she wanted to walk into. He had entire floors cleared so that she could move through them, looking at everything. For the first time in as long as the girl could remember, she wasn¡¯t a prisoner of the disease that she had been infected with. She was free.


    Walking without her crutches. Seeing things with her own eyes. Even touching them. And yes, she could still feel things. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure how that worked, but it did. When she touched something, she could feel it just as though she was touching it with her old body. Except she didn¡¯t feel pain. Shattering apart the way she had, while it had felt strange, hadn¡¯t actually hurt. She could touch her father¡¯s skin and know that it ¡®felt like skin¡¯, but when she touched fire (her own experiment, much to her father¡¯s abrupt protest), it hadn¡¯t burned her. She felt slightly warm, but there was no pain.


    On the other hand, while she had retained her ability to see, hear, and feel (without pain), her senses of smell and taste were completely gone. She had stood in a kitchen full of baking desserts, and out by the dumpsters. Neither smelled like anything to her. She had attempted to eat one of those aforementioned desserts, but it¡­ only resulted in a mess. She couldn¡¯t eat or drink. And it hadn¡¯t tasted like anything. She had her glass tongue, but no ability to taste.


    With a fond smile at her question as they stood together in the garage, her father gave a short nod. ¡°Have at it, Smelly. Let¡¯s see what you can do, huh?¡± Now that he had been assured that she wasn¡¯t hurt by any of this, the man was just as excited and intrigued as his daughter was by what she was capable of. There were, of course, other considerations and worries to come. But for now, he wanted to see what these powers actually meant. The fact that he used that teasing nickname (born of a combination of Small and Melly, for Melissa), proved how much he had relaxed since first walking in that room to see his daughter fall and break apart. Now assured that she was safe, he wanted to see what these powers meant.


    To that end, Melissa took a deep breath (still uncertain as to how much that mattered),  before spreading her arms out wide. With a grunt, she slammed them together. In that motion, she clapped hard enough that both hands shattered into dozens of pieces. Again, it didn¡¯t hurt. But it did leave her with her hands and a decent portion of her forearms missing, ending in jagged stumps. In any other situation, that would have been horrifying, but Melissa knew better by now.


    Just as before, she could see through all her individual shards. But now she was simultaneously seeing through her ¡®eyes¡¯ and through the different shards. As they lay on the floor scattered around her, she could see herself looking down at them. She could see her father too, and the cars that filled the garage. She could see through every shard at the same time.


    But it was more than that. As the shards lifted themselves from the floor, Melissa could control and manipulate all of them separately. They were all her, all capable of being moved around independently, controlled by Melissa despite the impossibility of focusing on so many different things at once. She could manipulate, move, see through, and experience things through every shard as easily as she could within her own body.


    Every shard of herself floated into the air, as she saw everything through all of them at once. Somehow, it didn¡¯t overwhelm the girl, though she knew it should have. It just¡­ worked.


    With a thought, she sent the shards flying through the garage. A few went to each vehicle, hitting the windshield or windows. And as she held those shattered pieces of herself against the glass, Melissa felt a sort of¡­ warmth. It was hard to explain it further than that, though she had tried when her father asked before, back when she had first done this with one of the mirrors inside. That feeling of warmth spread out from the shards she was controlling, through the windshield and windows, even through the mirrors on the vehicles that some of her shards had pressed themselves against.


    The warmth spread and, after a few long seconds, she felt it. Control. She felt her control spread from the pieces of herself, out to the glass of the vehicles. Once she felt it, the little girl spoke a single word.


    ¡°Come.¡±


    And with that, every window, every windshield, every mirror in the garage abruptly shattered as the glass broke itself into thousands of pieces, tearing its way free. Whether it was tempered or not didn¡¯t matter. None of the specifics mattered. The glass broke apart into those thousands of shards, all of them flying over to form up around her. The glass that had been part of her flew to where the stumps were and reformed, turning back into her arms and hands. Again, as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the rest of the glass continued to float there, awaiting her commands.


    She couldn¡¯t see and feel through all of these pieces, not instantly at least. With a thought and focus, however, she could pick a collection of shards to see through, just as she saw through her own pieces. Sensing things through her own glass was automatic, but pushing her senses into other glass she was controlling took a bit more effort.


    Focusing intently on the glass shards in front of her, Melissa watched as they obeyed her silent order by swirling into a tornado, just like when her own body had been reforming back in her room. The shards spun faster and faster, until it became impossible to make out individual pieces.


    Then they stopped, and the glass wasn¡¯t individual shards anymore. Every bit of glass from those dozen vehicles had joined together into an incredibly life-like recreation of a full-sized triceratops. At a thought from Melissa, the triceratops turned to look at them. And at another thought, she could see through its eyes. She could simultaneously look at her creation and look back at herself staring at it. With another silent command, the triceratops gave what looked like a little bow.


    ¡°Daddy¡­ I made a dinosaur,¡± she whispered, almost afraid that if she spoke too loudly, it would shatter this dream and she would wake up back in her bed.


    ¡°Yes,¡± the man murmured, stepping over to put his hand against it curiously. ¡°So you did. It¡¯s amazing, Smelly Melly. Can you still see through it?¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± she confirmed. ¡°If I think about it and try. Wait.¡± Another few seconds of thought made the triceratops shatter apart into all those little pieces of glass once more. Just as quickly, they formed into three separate tornadoes that time. When the tornadoes cleared, there were three smaller animals standing there. One was a bear, another was a wolf, and the third was a miniature dragon, about the size of the bear, with a pair of long wings along its back and long claw-like talons that looked as though they could easily rip and tear through flesh.


    Once the three animals were formed, Melissa focused. She found that she could control all of them to do what she wanted at once, though she was only capable of seeing through the eyes of one at a time. The others would obey her silent commands to the best of their ability, and in the absence of direct supervision, would simply continue attempting to follow her last order. She set the wolf to pacing in a circle around the garage, and it continued to do that even after she turned her focus to the other two. The bear was left lumbering forwards and backwards from one wall to the opposite, reaching up with one paw to pat the structure each time. When her focus turned away from it, the bear continued to do that.


    Finally, the dragon was sent flying up to the ceiling, where it hovered and looked down at them. Seeing herself through its eyes, Melissa giggled a little. Delight filled her voice. ¡°Daddy, I can make them move. Do you see?¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± the man confirmed with pride, his hands moving to squeeze her shoulders a bit. ¡°They¡¯re amazing, baby. You¡¯re amazing.¡± Despite his words, and the fact that he did seem to mean them, there was a slight hesitation to his voice.


    ¡°Daddy?¡± Curious, Melissa turned her head to look up at him. The glass-dragon did the same, automatically. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Did¡­ did I do something bad?¡±


    ¡°No, no, baby,¡± he quickly assured her. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything wrong. Never. You¡¯re my angel.¡± Going down on one knee, he looked her in the eyes. ¡°I was just thinking about how different things are now, and about how you¡¯ll never exactly be¡­ able to go out in public. You wanted to do so many different things, Mel. You wanted to see the world. You wanted to go skateboarding. You wanted to do all that stuff.¡±


    She, in turn, smiled at him. He needed to see her smile, she was pretty sure. ¡°I can do a lot of that stuff, Daddy. Now it doesn¡¯t matter if I break, because I can just come right back together again. It doesn¡¯t hurt. And I can still go see things if I¡¯m careful. It¡¯s just that now instead of being careful not to break, I have to be careful so people don¡¯t see what I look like. Maybe I could wear a disguise, or¨C¡±


    ¡°Melissa,¡± her father interrupted suddenly, his eyes widening with surprise. ¡°Look at yourself.¡±


    She did so, directing the hovering glass-dragon¡¯s eyes back to her. And she saw¡­ well, she didn¡¯t look normal, exactly. Her body was still clearly made of glass when she looked close. But there was color to it. Her pale skin color had returned, her eyes were back to being the right pale green, the long, slender strands of glass that made up her ¡®hair¡¯ had turned light brown to mimic the real thing. Even the glass that made up her clothes had shifted to what they should look like.


    With the added color, she looked akin to a particularly realistic porcelain doll. When one peered close enough, they could tell that something was off. Her skin, clothes, eyes, all of it was just not quite right. Yet from a distance, it would probably pass a casual glance. Especially if she wore regular, real clothes on top.


    Realizing all of this, Melissa found herself beaming. ¡°See, Daddy? I really can go out and look around with you, and do stuff. But you know what?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Her father asked, running his hand over her head.


    The answer came as she turned her gaze to stare at him. ¡°There¡¯s rules. You made them up yourself.


    ¡°So now we gotta think of a gambling sorta word-name that¡¯s got something to do with glass.¡±

 Kith And Kin 20-01

    I was sound asleep in my bed when the buzzing and vibrating phone under my pillow dragged me into something resembling a conscious state. I was pretty sure it had been going off for a while by the time I managed to wake up enough to recognize that it wasn¡¯t just a buzzing in my dreams. Which was confirmed when I blearily dragged the phone out and stared at the screen for the few seconds it took to notice about forty-three text messages and half as many calls. They were from a mix of both Roald and Murphy, all over the past hour and a half. A quick scan of the texts showed that they had some sort of emergency going on. There were a lot of pleas for me to answer and call them back, that they were at the hospital and ¡®he¡¯ was really hurt. But in my barely awake state, I couldn¡¯t figure out who they were talking about. I just flipped through messages randomly while shoving myself up and off the bed.


    It was very late Mond¨Cno, it was early Tuesday morning, a glance toward my wall of clocks told me. After Sunday¡¯s whole thing at the bank, yesterday had been pretty quiet, all things considered. Since there seemed to be nothing going on aside from watching Wren and Lion work on things for the second day in a row, I had come home and gone to bed to catch up on the sleep I knew I would need with my parents getting back tomorrow/today.


    And now, here I was, stumbling my way through the room to the closet while telling the lights to turn on. Painting my arms purple, I pushed the big mirror out of the way before grabbing the bag with my costume out of the hidden spot below the floor. While doing that, I managed to shove the bluetooth thing in my ear before hitting the button on my phone to call Murphy. It rang through about ten times before going to voicemail, while I was stripping out of my pajamas and getting regular clothes on. By that point, I had finally woken up for the most part and hit the button to call Roald instead.


    Thankfully, he answered on about the second ring. ¡°Paintball? Paintball, you have to get down here. You have to hurry, she¡¯s¨Cshe¡¯s really upset and you have to¨C¡±


    ¡°What? Who? What¡¯s going on?¡± I managed while heading for my balcony. I had to pause a moment, watching the lights from a couple guards walking by below. Muting the phone, I ordered the lights to dim while very carefully opening the sliding door. The patrol moved on, as I heard the two men on the ground casually talking to one another about some baseball game.


    ¡°It¡¯s Murphy,¡± Roald was frantically saying. ¡°We¡¯re at the hospital and she¡¯s¨Cher brother¡ª¡±


    My eyes narrowed, voice going cold as a wave of terrible thoughts rushed through me. ¡°What did her brother do to her?¡± I was already thinking about how I should have insisted on doing something about that guy when I had found out that he cut her face because she wouldn¡¯t carry drugs around. Why had I just let her say that she would deal with it? I should have insisted. I¨C


    Roald interrupted my snowballing thoughts. ¡°No, no! Not him, not¨Cit¡¯s him. He¡¯s been shot. Please, you have to get down here. We¡¯ll explain it then. But please, come quick. Her brother¡¯s been shot, and it¡¯s really bad. He¨Cthey don¡¯t think he¡­¡± The boy trailed off, audibly swallowing. ¡°Please, you have to hurry. I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s going to do if anything¡­ if he¡­ please, hurry.¡± His voice cracked through that, showing just how afraid and upset he really was.


    By that point, the patrol had moved on, so I asked what hospital they were at. Upon getting an answer, I promised to be right there and told him to stay with Murphy. Then I disconnected, shoved the phone away, and started to step out before pausing. I thought about waking Izzy up to let her know what was going on, but that didn¡¯t seem fair. She deserved to sleep. I was pretty sure she hadn¡¯t gotten back from her own patrol with Wobble until after ten, and we did have school in the morning. Yeah, let her sleep. Shaking that thought off, I instead scribbled a quick note for the girl that said I had gone out for a walk because I¡¯d had ¡®the dream about those cartoon Minions ending up in the hospital.¡¯ I figured she could work things out from there. I left the note under my pillow, where we had promised we would leave such things if need be, then grabbed the bag with my costume and headed for the sliding door once more. After a quick glance around to assure myself that  the coast was clear, I quickly made my way out and off of the grounds. The whole while, a mess of conflicting thoughts were running through my head. Murphy¡¯s brother had been shot? How? Why? What happened? Was she okay? Had she been there when¨C when whatever had happened was¨Cyeah, I had to get to the hospital and find out what was going on. My brain was just spinning out wildly.


    Once I was far enough away from home, I used my phone to order a ride. When it showed up, I told the driver to head for the hospital, then got in and sat back. The place was too far away for me to get there easily under my own power, but I still felt anxious and helpless, just sitting there. It was all I could do not to rock back and forth in a silent attempt to force the car to move faster.


    Thankfully, the fact that I had asked him to go to the hospital in the middle of the night seemed to make the driver realize something was wrong. He set out immediately, pushing the speed limit right from the start. Only once did he ask if I wanted to talk about what was going on, and when I said no, he dropped it. Still, I did belatedly tell him that I had a friend who was there, and that my parents were both working overnight. He seemed to accept that, and promised we¡¯d be there as soon as possible. Then he suited action to words by accelerating around the corner.


    He really did get us there pretty damn quickly and smoothly, so I wrote in a thirty dollar tip for the guy in the app before also tossing him three twenties from my pocket without thinking about it. Then I was out and heading across the lot. I was almost to the doors into the emergency room before realizing the problem. Looking down at my distinctly uncostumed self, I grimaced before cutting to the left. Heading around the far side of the hospital, I found my way to a grassy area that led up to some apartments. After looking around to make sure no one was looking, I red-painted my way to the roof of one of those buildings, where I quickly changed clothes and stowed my bag in a hidden spot under one of the bits of machinery up there. Then I sat down and sent a text to Roald, telling him to meet me near the dumpsters behind the east-most exit.


    It took about five minutes before I saw that side-door open as the boy came jogging out. He looked around before heading for the dumpsters in question. I made sure he wasn¡¯t being followed before zipping my way down there to land on the edge of the short brick wall that surrounded the trash area. ¡°Hey,¡± I spoke up, dropping down off that to land beside him. ¡°What¡¯s going on? What happened?¡±


    Jumping a bit at my arrival, the boy focused on me. ¡°Paintball! I¨Cshe¨C¡± He took a breath and then told me what was going on. Apparently he and Murphy had run into some guy on the bus who wanted money from her brother. They got away from him and made it home. But shortly after Murphy had been in the apartment with her brother, there was some sort of drive-by and the guy from before had fired several times through the window, hitting Murphy¡¯s brother repeatedly while shouting that he should have paid up. Roald had heard the shots and came running, before being the one to call 911. Now the guy¨CTyson¨C was in emergency surgery while Murphy herself sat outside waiting with Roald¡¯s older and younger sisters. The former was the one who had driven them down here. All in all, it wasn¡¯t looking good.


    ¡°She wants to go after him,¡± Roald informed me, his voice cracking a bit. ¡°Paintball, she wants to go and find the guy who shot Ty. I¡¯m pretty sure the only reason she¡¯s still here is because she wants to hear about¨CI mean because she wants to be here if¨CI mean¡­¡± He trailed off, swallowing hard. ¡°I think she might do something really bad if she goes off by herself.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Could she even find this guy? How would she know where to look?¡±


    Roald hesitated before explaining that the man, whose name was Luciano, had apparently been pretty busy that night. Murphy¡¯s brother wasn¡¯t the only guy he hit up for money. He had, according to what other people in the hospital and the cops themselves were saying, been calling in debts all over the city and shot up a couple other places while he was at it. They were putting three different drive-bys just tonight on the guy. Something had lit a fire under his ass and made him desperate to call in every bit of cash that anyone owed to him, or just kill a few of them to make others pay up.


    Apparently Murphy and Roald had been just around the corner from a few prostitutes who had been in the hospital recovering from one of those shootouts. The women were talking about what they¡¯d told the cops who interrogated them, and made it clear none had squealed about the fact that Luciano spent a lot of time hanging out at some all-night laundromat owned by his cousin or something. That was where he did his deals. But they weren¡¯t telling the cops that because they were more afraid of him and his gang than they were of lying to the police.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Speaking of the cops, obviously they were involved here. But apparently Murphy didn¡¯t exactly have a lot of confidence in them either. Which, given that the way she had grown up, I guess I couldn¡¯t really blame her for that. I had been super privileged in basically every possible way. I was a rich white girl whose parents basically owned law enforcement. To say nothing of our own private security. And that was before I found out about the Ministry thing. Murphy, on the other hand, had seen a much worse side of things. She was mixed-race, which was close enough to black for the people who would give her shit about it, and had grown up poor. Her parents were already in prison, apparently for something that had to do with selling antidepressants and such on the street. So really, it was no wonder she wouldn¡¯t have the best opinion of letting the police take care of the situation.


    Yeah, it sure sounded like she was planning on running out to try to deal with this guy herself. I had to do something about him first, before Murphy ran out and got herself¡­ before she got hurt. Or worse. This guy had already almost killed her at least once tonight, if not twice depending on what he would have done if he had caught them when they ran off the bus. He wasn¡¯t going to be nice.


    Taking a deep breath, I focused on the boy in front of me. ¡°Tell Murphy to come out here. She¡¯s not answering her phone. I¡¯ll tell her that I¡¯m going to go get the guy so she can focus on being here for Tyson. Just¨Ctell her to come talk to me and I¡¯ll make sure she knows this guy¡¯s going down. I promise, he won¡¯t get away with this. He¡¯s going to prison tonight. But I need to talk to her first. I need her to know I¡¯m taking care of it.¡±


    Roald gave a short nod before pivoting to run back inside. I kept an eye out, but there wasn¡¯t much going on here by the side exit. All the action was around the emergency room. So, I was just left standing there tapping my foot while asking myself what I was actually going to do about this guy. Get to him, catch him, turn him in to the cops and let Murphy and Roald testify against him? If they would. Tyson too, assuming he¨C


    The side door slammed open once more, and my gaze snapped up to see Roald running out full-tilt. ¡°She¡¯s gone!¡± he blurted, eyes wide as he got up to me. ¡°She¨Che¨Che¡¯s not¡­ he¡¯s gone. He¡¯s gone. He didn¡¯t make it. Ty didn¡¯t make it through the surgery, and they said she¨Cshe ran out. Murphy took off, I think she went after him. I wasn¡¯t there, I wasn¡¯t with her and she took off! Some nurse was talking about someone stealing her car in there, I think she took it.¡±


    ¡°Stay here,¡± I snapped. ¡°What was the address of that laundromat again?¡±


    He gave it to me, and I spun around, using red paint to yank myself up toward the roof of the hospital. Before landing there, I popped my wheels out and skated that way. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had to get there. I had to get to that laundromat before Murphy got herself killed by rushing inside. She just lost her brother, and with her parents being in prison, there wasn¡¯t¡­ she wasn¡¯t¡­ yeah. This was bad. It was really bad. I had to get there before it got even worse.


    The laundromat was a fair distance from the hospital, but too close for me to take the time to call for another ride. I had to hope that going across rooftops and such would make up Murphy¡¯s headstart and the fact that she was in a car. I just¨CI had to hurry. That was all there was to it. I had to get there in time. I pushed myself to go even faster, painting green across my legs while using my pace-skates to pick up even more speed. The next couple of minutes were a total blur of racing from roof to roof, leaping, yanking, landing, running, gliding, rolling, and skidding my way as fast as possible, all in a desperate attempt to get to that laundromat in time.


    Finally, I reached the building across the street from the strip mall where the laundromat was supposed to be. Dropping to my stomach so I wouldn¡¯t stand out, I lay on the edge of the roof and stared that way, eyes hunting for the place in question. There. It was in the exact middle of the shopping center, sandwiched between a bar and some sort of hair salon. There were people gathered out in front of the bar and the laundromat, and a few people inside the latter. It didn¡¯t look like the ones in the store were doing any laundry. More like they were standing around and drinking just like the ones outside. It was definitely a gang hangout of some sort, but I couldn¡¯t see anyone who fit the description of this Luciano guy. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he was in the back.


    Nor could I see any sign of Murphy. Which, considering the guys out front looked perfectly casual, I hoped meant she hadn¡¯t made it here yet. But now that I was here and she apparently wasn¡¯t, what was I supposed to do? Should I go down there and tell them to send Luciano out, or wait for Murphy? If I already had him detained, would she calm down? I wasn¡¯t¨CI didn¡¯t think¨C


    And then that the decision was taken out of my hands, as a car came squealing around the corner. My gaze snapped that way just in time to see Murphy behind the wheel. Oh, she was wearing a ski mask, but I knew it was her. I¡¯d certainly seen her wearing that mask often enough by now. She was right there, car squealing its way across the road before hopping the curb straight into the lot. Right, so she wasn¡¯t in the mood for subtlety, then. She was grieving and lost. Her brother had just been killed, and she was going to do something about it.


    The question of what exactly she was going to do was answered a moment later when she brought the car to a squealing halt right in front of the laundromat. The group there between the store and the bar looked that way, just as Murphy hopped out of the car with¨Cwith a shotgun. She had a shotgun in her hands. I had no idea where she got that, but she was pointing it at those people. I could hear her high, strained voice scream for them to get Luciano, along with something about how if he thought he was going to get away with ¡®putting her people back at the Twenty-Seven Club in the hospital, he had another thing coming.¡¯


    The Twenty-Seven Club. That was one of the places Luciano had shot up. So even now, even in this condition, Murphy was covering her identity by pretending she was here as a member of one of those groups to get payback for that shooting.


    When the guys hesitated, she pointed the shotgun at one of the nearby cars and pulled the trigger to blow out the tire, then pointed it at them again and repeated the order. Yeah, this was bad. Especially since I could see several of the men start to semi-subtly shift to spread out around her. But Murphy was in too much grief to notice what they were doing. If I didn¡¯t get down there and do something, they would surround her. And then¡­ and then nothing, because I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen.


    Getting up, I backed away a few steps for a running start. Then I gave myself some more paint before sprinting that way. A shot of blue at the edge of the roof launched me into the air, and I flipped over before using red against a distant traffic light for momentum. Flying that way, I pointed with both hands, sending a wide spray of red at the group before activating that, along with a bit of orange on my boots.


    Landing beside Murphy just as the assortment of guys were all yanked together to crash into a heap, I caught the shotgun before she could reflexively point it at me. ¡°Now, guys!¡± I called out. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the lady here wanted you to all stay in one spot, not spread out. Don¡¯t screw up your choreography, you know how much the director hates that.¡±


    For a moment, the guys on the ground froze when they saw me there. Then, blurting out something about getting ¡®the shit¡¯ out of the back, they all scrambled up and took off. They split up, spreading out to run in all different directions. Some of them ran into the laundromat, a few back into the bar, and the rest scattered across the parking lot. None of them stuck around to fight. Which I definitely wasn¡¯t going to argue with, but Luciano would definitely know we were here now. If the shotgun blast hadn¡¯t already given it away.


    Speaking of which, I spun on my heel to find Murphy staring at me. I could see the tears in her eyes through the holes in the mask. ¡°P-Paintball,¡± she managed quietly, voice breaking, ¡°Ty¨CTy didn¡¯t¨Che¨C¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I quickly assured her. ¡°Stay here. I¡¯m going to go get that guy. He¡¯s not getting away, I promise.¡±


    Her head shook frantically. ¡°No, no, I have to get him. I have to get him for Ty.¡± She was already moving to go around me, shotgun in one hand as she stumbled toward the door of the laundromat. Just as quickly, she spun back to me, lunging to tackle me to the ground. An instant later, after the other girl landed on top of me, I heard an explosive series of gunshots as someone inside the building opened up. Quickly, Murphy and I crawled around behind the car before they could adjust their aim.


    ¡°Dunno how you walked out of that club without a bullet, bitch!¡± came a voice through the shattered window once the gunfire had stopped. ¡°But I¡¯ll be glad to make up for it. You and that fucking wannabe hero kid!¡±


    ¡°Luciano,¡± Murphy snarled. Her hand grabbed the shotgun from the ground, and she started to push herself up before I caught hold of her arm to stop her. ¡°Paintball!¡± she blurted, looking toward me. ¡°It¡¯s him, he can¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t get away with it,¡± I promised, grip tightening. ¡°He is not going to get away. I won¡¯t let that happen. But I¡¯m not gonna let you get yourself killed either. Your brother wouldn¡¯t want that.¡±


    For a moment, it looked like she was going to scream at me for that. And honestly, I wouldn¡¯t have blamed her. But the girl caught herself, eyes closing tightly before focusing on me once more. ¡°He¡¯s mine,¡± she insisted in a voice that shook. ¡°I have to help take him down, Paintball. I have to.¡±


    Pausing briefly, I glanced over my shoulder, listening to the sound of the man in question ordering his buddies to come flush us out. ¡°Okay,¡± I murmured. ¡°You can help take him down. But you listen to me, okay? We do this the smart way, not just by charging in. And we take him down for the cops. We arrest him and turn him in.¡±


    From the look in her eyes, I knew the girl wanted to argue with that. But she stopped herself, giving a short nod. It was clear that she was listening to the sound of the bad guys arguing about who had to come closer. They were clearly spooked, and none wanted to be the ones who came within shotgun or paint distance. But we were still running out of time. ¡°Okay,¡± she murmured. ¡°As long as he doesn¡¯t get away.¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t,¡± I assured her.


    ¡°So here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do.¡±

 Kith And Kin 20-02

    This obviously wasn¡¯t the best position to be in, crouched behind a car with my very Prev min¨Cemployee, while a bunch of guys with guns on the other side of the car rapidly approached to surround it. And yet, on the other hand, at least none of these guys were Touched. As far as I was aware, anyway. Not that that completely eliminated the potential danger the guns themselves presented if we weren¡¯t careful, but at least I knew what we were dealing with.


    After taking a few precious seconds for preparation and explanation, I peeked through the window of the vehicle. Five guys were approaching, three moving toward the front of the car and two moving toward the back. There were more standing up by the laundromat, and what looked like a couple lingering in the doorway of the bar with their own weapons ready. This whole shopping center was obviously their hangout.


    ¡°Count of three,¡± I whispered to the girl next to me. ¡°Remember what I told you about the gun.¡± Once she gave a short, reluctant nod, I counted off. ¡°One¡­ two¡­ three.¡± On that last number, I abruptly activated the blue paint I had sprayed beneath both of the tires on this side of the car, front and back. Instantly, the vehicle flipped up on its side before tipping over to its roof. As it fell that way, I heard a few yelps and curses from the guys there who had just been reaching the front and back. They dove out of the way, landing hard on their stomachs to avoid the vehicle as it fell all the way over onto its roof.


    At the same time, Murphy aimed high with the shotgun, firing a blast that took out the neon sign above the laundromat. The terrifying crash of the car falling onto its roof, accompanied by the even more terrifying boom of the shotgun and shattering glass from the neon sign being blown apart made the guys right in front of the place recoil, a couple of them literally falling on their backsides or crashing into each other in their reflexive urge to escape.


    Before any of them could recover, I activated the green and purple paint I had put on myself and Murphy. Then I was right there in front of the three guys who had been near the front of the car. My foot lashed out to kick one in the face hard enough that he collapsed fully, while I reached down to grab the weapons from their hands and threw them as far as I could off into the distance. As I leapt over their sprawled forms, my fist hit another guy in the side of the head so he wouldn¡¯t get any bright ideas, foot snapping backward to hit the last guy just in case he felt left out. All three were left disarmed and groaning in pain. And all of it happened too quickly for them to react.


    Meanwhile, a quick glance to one side showed that Murphy had done her part. Both guys that had been at the back of the car were curled up on their stomachs, clutching themselves in pain while she hurled their guns far off to the opposite side of the lot.


    Just like that, these five were dealt with. But I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to sit back and congratulate myself, considering how many other guys were waiting for us. To that end, I focused on the group up by the shop, as well as the ones by the bar. Thanks to the green paint, all of that had happened so quickly, they were still recoiling from the shotgun blast. But they were recovering quickly, so I threw myself that way in a sprint. They saw me coming and tried to snap their weapons up in time. But I activated blue paint just under my shoes, launching myself upward to hit the wall just above the doorway, where the neon sign had been. My gravity-shoes kept me there, looking down at the men below me.


    They, of course, started to look up and adjust their aim. But I gave a sharp whistle and pointed back the way I had come with one hand, and toward their feet with the other. The guys looked that way reflexively, immediately noticing two things. First, the blob of red paint that I had put against the side of the overturned car while dashing toward them. And second, the identical bit of red on the cement right in front of them.


    Yeah, they processed what was about to happen very quickly, all of them screaming as they dove back through with the broken windows and doorway of the laundromat. At the same time, I activated the paint to yank the car over. It slammed into the spot where they had just been, crashing partway into the laundromat with a loud, thunderous bang.


    Okay, I did feel bad about the person this car actually belonged to before Murphy had stolen it. I was going to have to make sure they had good insurance, and maybe send an anonymous donation to help.


    But for the moment, I had to focus. A glance toward the bar showed that the two guys there had started to lean their way out and take aim. But I sent a quick shot of blue paint at their feet, launching them into the top of the doorway hard enough that they immediately collapsed once they hit the ground once more.


    In the meantime, Murphy was already sprinting toward the far end of the hair salon on the opposite side of the laundromat than the bar. There was a narrow alley-like area there to reach the back of the buildings. As she neared it, I quickly activated another blotch of green paint I had given her, speeding the girl up once more. Then I did the same for myself, and used red paint to reach the roof, sprinting my way straight across the top of the laundromat to reach the back as well.


    Murphy beat me there by about two seconds, and the gang guys themselves by one. Just as I skidded to a halt on the edge of the roof, I heard her voice snap, ¡°Drop it!¡± Looking down, I saw one guy who had started to push his way out the rear exit of the laundromat. He had a pistol in one hand. But Murphy was there on one side of the door, shotgun pointed at his head.


    The guy clearly considered his options for a moment, before Murphy snapped, ¡°I reloaded before I got back here. Which means I¡¯ve got five shells in this thing. It¡¯ll only take one to put you down, then I¡¯ve got four more for your friends back there behind you. And you¡¯re all lined up like a nice turkey shoot. So I¡¯ll tell you one more time. Drop. It.¡±


    While she was saying that, I had already taken a few steps back and sprayed pink along the roof. I made a large enough circle for myself to fit through. Then I listened until the clatter of the pistol hitting the ground announced the man¡¯s choice.


    That prompted a wave of curses and shouts from the people behind him who thought he was being a chickenshit. Which was my cue. Activating a line of purple stars along both of my legs, as well as an orange moon on my back, I jumped up and then stomped down as hard as I could on the pink circle. Instantly, I broke through, crashing down through the ceiling to land right in the middle of the gathered group. Before they could react, I snapped my hand toward the floor behind me, where several guys were, and shot blue paint to launch them into the ceiling. At the same time, I grabbed the guy in front of me by the arm, hurling him into the wall with my purple-strength with enough force that he rebounded off it and collapsed, in no mood to do anything else.


    The guy at the door had started to turn to see what the hell was going on with the rest of his buddies, just as Murphy slammed the butt of the shotgun into the back of his head, knocking him stumbling into the next guy. Which was the one I had just reached, grabbing him by his shoulders as he stumbled from the other guy crashing into him so I could yank him down closer to my level, headbutting him hard with my helmet.


    That last guy, the one who had tossed his pistol at Murphy¡¯s order, immediately dropped to his knees as soon as he saw the situation behind him. And just like that, they were all down. It worked. The plan that Murphy and I had come up with in just those few seconds had been very simple. We stop the guys right by the car, then use the car to block the front of the laundromat so they would have no choice but to flee toward the back. Then Murphy would catch them at the door there, where they could only come out one at a time, and while she had them distracted, I would break in through the ceiling to take them by surprise as they were all bunched up like that. Again, a very simple plan. But it had worked. Thank God, it actually worked.


    Well, sort of. Unfortunately, Murphy looked around frantically, a curse escaping her. ¡°Fuck! He¡¯s not here! Fuck, fuck, where is he?!¡± Her foot lashed out to kick the nearest guy really hard, enough to make me wince a bit for him. ¡°Where the fuck is Luciano?! Where¡¯d he go, motherfucker?!¡± Only then did she remember that she had the shotgun in one hand, and quickly pointed it, tracking the barrel across all the guys while still demanding that they tell her where their boss had disappeared to.


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    It didn¡¯t take much threatening for several of the guys to point back through the main room toward the manager¡¯s office, insisting that their boss went that way. The two of us glanced at one another, then I quickly sprayed red along the guys before activating it. They were all yanked together and would be stuck like that for ten seconds. It gave us a head start. Which we used, sprinting toward the manager¡¯s office even as I activated a bit more orange on both of us, just in case the guy we were running for decided to start shooting. I was still trying to figure out why he would have gone for his office rather than trying to get out like the rest of his men. Even as I had that thought, however, a realization of the probable explanation struck me, and I muttered a curse, hoping I was wrong.


    But no, I was very right. Even as we got to the office and shoved our way in, we could both see a hole in the floor. A trapdoor. There was a trapdoor there, and no sign of the man in question. He had sent those other guys to the back door as a distraction, while he went out through his secret exit. Apparently he had been in too much of a rush to even bother closing the door, which was a boon for us not having to look for it, but still.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I muttered while skidding to a stop just above the hole and looking down. ¡°Another tunnel. I¡¯m really starting to hate these things.¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Murphy snapped at me, her voice high and stressed, ¡°if he escapes again¡­¡± Her tone made it clear just how unacceptable that was, as did the way she was tightly gripping the gun. She gave me a sharp look, expression hidden behind the mask. But I didn¡¯t need to see her face to know just how angry she was at the whole situation. Before I could respond, she started to lean down to jump into the escape tunnel herself, intent on not allowing the man who had just murdered her brother to get away.


    Quickly, I caught her arm. ¡°Wait, let me go first.¡± Making sure I still had orange active on me, just in case the bastard was hiding right there, I activated the headlamps on my helmet before dropping down through the hole. Once I was sure there was no guy there with a gun waiting for us, I waved for the other girl to join me. She did, dropping down. But unlike Luciano, she took the time to yank the trap door shut. I, in turn, used a quick, small shot of pink paint to bend part of the trapdoor out and over the ceiling it was snug against. That way, if anyone tried to open it from above, they wouldn¡¯t be able to. We had enough problems right now without ending up with bad guys coming up behind us in this narrow tunnel. So that was one potential problem out of the way.


    That done, I was able to look around a bit more. Unlike the one I had been in a couple days earlier, this tunnel had clearly been professionally made. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of cement rather than dirt, making it clear this had been set up a long time ago. Probably for a situation similar to this, or if the cops made an appearance. Whatever problem showed up on his doorstep, Luciano wanted a way to escape. And unless we moved quickly, he was going to do just that. Who knew where this tunnel came out, or how impossible it would be to find him again if we didn¡¯t get there before he vanished. I didn¡¯t even want to think about how Murphy would react then, or what she would be going through. We had to find this guy right now.


    To that end, I started sprinting down the tunnel, reaching back to grab Murphy¡¯s hand so I could yank her after me. Then I actually flipped off the headlamps to avoid giving away our presence any further, simply trusting my mysterious navigation power. If the other girl objected to moving through the darkness, she didn¡¯t say anything. She might¡¯ve been too enraged to even think about it, honestly. Together, the two of us sprinted blindly down the tunnel as fast as we could.


    The tunnel was fairly straight, but there were a couple turns involved. Turns that I just¡­ somehow knew were there. With no visible warning and no idea how I would know about them, I instinctively turned us to the right just before we would have crashed headlong into the wall. A fact that was confirmed as I reached out with my free hand to feel it there. Without missing a step, I kept running, turning left just as unexpectedly a few moments later. I didn¡¯t know how this navigation power worked, but I sure as hell was not going to argue with the results.


    On the way, I used green paint to speed us up, hoping to counter the head start our quarry had. I also used a bit of black so he wouldn¡¯t hear us charging down the tunnel like a herd of elephants. Please, please let us get there in time. This son of a bitch just killed Murphy¡¯s brother. Whatever problems the guy had, he didn¡¯t deserve to die. And Murphy didn¡¯t deserve to lose him. This shitface was going to pay for what he did. We just had to catch up with him.


    There. After one more sharp right turn, we could see a bright shaft of light ahead. There was an exit, and we could both see the man in question starting to climb a ladder right there. At least, I assumed it was him. It was hard to make out details, and I didn¡¯t really know what he looked like anyway.


    Murphy did, however. And she immediately confirmed my assumptions by shoving past me, sprinting full-tilt that way. As she passed, I sent two shots of paint into her back. One was green, the other orange. She was a quick little missile, still silenced for the next couple seconds by the black paint that was already on her hand.


    Still, silent or not, she was a shape rapidly approaching through the darkness. The climbing man noticed her, looking over. But it was too late, as she slammed into him with enough force, despite their size differences, to knock the man off the ladder, where he fell hard onto the tunnel floor with a yelp.


    He recovered quickly, firing a shot from that pistol of his. But the orange paint meant it only stunned Murphy a little bit, making her recoil. That, however, was enough for him to lash out with his foot. Again, it didn¡¯t hurt her, but the force knocked the girl off him as he fired twice more. Luckily, the gun was silenced, or we all would have been completely deafened from the sound echoing through this tight space. Doubly-luckily, the paint was still holding strong, so Murphy wasn¡¯t hurt. From personal experience, I knew it would sting, and she would have bruises. But that was a hell of a lot better than being shot several times and bleeding out.


    By that point, I was already there. Before he could fire again, I painted part of my arm purple, snapping a hand out to take the gun away from him while simultaneously kicking the man in the leg, making him stagger while yelping in pain.


    Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t enough. I saw the man¡¯s hand grab something and hold it out. The next thing I knew, a blast of light and concussive force slammed into me. I was sent staggering to the floor next to Murphy, who had fallen as well. It was some sort of Touched-Tech flashbang or whatever, strong enough to put me on the ground.


    It didn¡¯t keep me there for long, thankfully. Still, it cost us precious seconds. Even as I pushed myself up and looked around, I could see the man already disappearing up the ladder. My hand snapped out to shoot red paint at him, but it was too late. He pushed himself up and out of the hole just as my paint splattered against the ladder rung where his foot had been an instant earlier.


    No, no. Fuck no. I wasn¡¯t going to let this happen. Shoving myself up just as Murphy did the same, I grabbed her arm and yanked her close to me while putting blue paint underneath us right at the bottom of the ladder. Looking up, I activated the paint, sending both of us flying upward. We didn¡¯t bother with the ladder at all, instead launching straight toward the hole above us. On the way, I made sure we both had a bit more orange paint, just in case this asshole was waiting to shoot us rather than running.


    But no, he wasn¡¯t sticking around, apparently. We shot out of the hole and landed in a small parking lot across the street from the shopping center itself. At first, there was no sign of the man we were chasing. Then I saw him disappearing around the corner of the nearest building. He was running like his ass was on fire. Which, to be honest, sounded like a really good idea right then.


    Murphy started to sprint after him, but I caught her hand and pulled her with me. Instead of running after the guy, I used blue and red paint to get us to the roof of the building he was running around. Together, we sprinted across it to the far side, before I gave us both orange paint to soften the landing as we jumped off, falling straight to the ground below.


    The shortcut worked. We landed together right in front of the man, giving me my first decent look at him. He was a fairly big Latino guy, both in height and girth (fitting through the trapdoor must have been a tight squeeze), with long dreadlocks that had been dyed bright blond. He wore a long, oversized (even for him) Pistons jersey and loose sweatpants, and gripped a pistol in one hand. Yeah, that I used red paint to rip away from him.


    As that gun disappeared from his grip, Luciano staggered backward in shock. Well, that and the fact that Murphy and I had basically just dropped out of the sky right in front of him. That was probably pretty surprising too. He started to blurt something, then stopped. His eyes moved past us as he snapped, ¡°Well, it¡¯s about fucking time. What the hell am I paying you assholes for if you can¡¯t get these shits off my back?¡±


    Yeah, my instinct was to say it was a trick. But the specific thing he said put a sinking sensation into my stomach. Which only got worse as a voice spoke up behind us. A very familiar voice.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t you worry. You do pay pretty well. And we¡¯re going to take care of this right now.¡±


    Well, I may not have been sure whether my parents were actually in town at this point or not.


    But at least I knew exactly where my brother was.

 Non-Canon 11 - An Aftermath Of Dinner

    Fumbling so much as she tried to yank a phone from her pocket that she dropped it, Cassidy cursed frantically. ¡°Damn it, damn it!¡± She went to grab the thing, but Lincoln Chambers was quicker, stooping to grab it and hold it out to her.


    ¡°Cassidy,¡± he started, ¡°Take a breath, who are you calling?¡± Even as he said that, the man gave a quick glance to his wife, who was watching the street beyond the alley they had teleported into. Despite Joselyn¡¯s words moments ago about telling them what was going on, the Evans¡¯ daughter had instead focused on a mix of cursing and trying to get that phone.


    ¡°Izzy,¡± the girl immediately snapped, already hitting a button on the phone after snatching it out of Lincoln¡¯s hand. ¡°I have to call Izzy and tell her to get out.¡± She held the phone tightly to her ear, looking panicked and close to throwing up she muttered, ¡°Come on, come on, come on.¡± It was only a couple of rings, but to her it felt like forever.


    Finally, the girl in question answered. ¡°Cassie? Hold on, Jefferson just texted, he needs to see me.¡± Even as she said that, there was the sound of the bedroom door opening as she started out into the hallway


    ¡°Izzy!¡± Cassidy blurted. ¡°What--no, no, don¡¯t talk to him. Get out of the house, now. My parents know I know. They might not know that you know, but they won''t take that chance. Get out, right now! Don''t talk to him, don''t get in the car, don''t do anything. Just go!¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey.¡± Izzy was clearly talking to someone else, someone right there in front of her. ¡°Yeah, I got the text. I''m heading down right--¡± Her words were interrupted by the sound of rushing water and a startled scream, followed by running footsteps and a slamming door. ¡°I¡¯m going!¡± she informed Cassidy through the phone. ¡°They just had some butler goon guy try to make sure I went to the--ugh. The balcony¡¯s locked. I can¡¯t--hang on.¡± There was a pause as she took a breath, followed by a cry and another sound of rushing water. This one was accompanied by a loud crashing sound as glass and wood exploded.


    ¡°Not locked anymore,¡± Izzy informed Cassidy with a bright chirp. ¡°I¡¯m out, I¡¯m--ahhh!¡±


    ¡°Izzy!¡± Cassidy¡¯s eyes had widened through that, gripping the phone even more tightly as she gave the Chambers couple a quick, panicked glance. ¡°Are you okay? Izzy?¡±


    ¡°Tranquilizers,¡± came the response. Izzy¡¯s words sounded as though they were coming as she ran. ¡°They were shooting tranquilizers at me. It hit the door frame. I¡¯m out. I¡¯m over the wall, I jump-floated to get past it, but they¡¯re right behind me. I think--I think I hear ATVs.¡±


    ¡°Keep running,¡± Cassidy insisted. ¡°There¡¯s a really dense section of trees if you--you went over the wall straight across from our rooms, veer a little bit left. If you¡¯re running straight away from the house, that¡¯s twelve-o¡¯clock. Run at ten-o¡¯clock. There''s really thick trees there and you can''t even get a motorcycle through. Just keep running til you get to the drainage ditch on the far side, then cut to the left through a big culvert there. It¡¯s dirty but you gotta go right in. I--I¡¯ll be there as soon as I can. I''ll try to meet you at the other side of the ditch, but if you gotta run, you gotta--¡±


    ¡°Cassidy.¡± That was Joselyn Chambers, hand reaching out to catch her arm. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll get you there. Lincoln, grab the car and meet us at that statue in the park we were talking about.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Cassidy hadn''t been paying attention to the two adults. Distractedly, she turned to ask how Mrs. Chambers thought she was going to get her there faster than she herself could go. But even as her mouth opened to speak those words, it stayed open, a noise of surprise escaping. All she could do was stand there, staring that way.


    ¡°Cassie?!¡± The blurted, worried question came from Izzy, still running through the woods beyond the mansion. ¡°Are you okay? What happened?!


    ¡°I umm, I umm, we¡¯ll be right there. Just keep running. Focus on running. We¡¯ll meet you at the culvert.¡± Cassidy informed her flatly. ¡°I¡¯m coming with help. I¡¯ve got help. But run!¡±


    She disconnected then, staring at the woman in front of her. A woman whose appearance, specifically clothes, had changed. Now, Joselyn Chambers wore a black bodysuit that covered her entire body, save for her head. Various star patterns, like looking into the night sky far from the city, stretched across the bodysuit, and a silver, metallic mask covered the lower half of her face.


    For a brief handful of seconds, all Cassidy could do was stare, mouth opening and shutting. Finally, she managed a weak, ¡°Radiant. You¡¯re Radiant.¡± One of the most powerful Star-Touched in the country, the American member of Armistice. And she was--she was right--she was right here. She was right in front of her, and Cassidy had been having dinner with her. She had-- oh. Oh.


    ¡°It seems we have a lot to talk about,¡± Josely--Radiant informed her gently. ¡°But right now you have a friend in trouble. So come on, and tell me where to go.¡± Even as she said that, the woman pulled Cassidy by the arm and turned her around. She hooked her arms around the girl from behind, pulling her up close against herself. Then her body grew warmer, shifting into her glowing energy form. The arms holding onto the young teenager looked like a pair of fluorescent lights.


    The next thing Cassidy knew, they were launched into the air. This was far more than her paint was capable of. In an instant, they were a good hundred feet in the sky. That rapidly became two hundred, then three. Three hundred feet, reached faster than Paintball could have pulled herself to the roof of a one-story building.


    Shocked as she was by this turn of events, the worry about Izzy and what would happen if her parents¡¯ goons caught up to her was enough to make Cassidy focus. ¡°North-east!¡± she called out. ¡°That way, that way!¡± She was trying to point without wiggling too much.


    Radiant didn¡¯t hesitate for a second. Instantly, she was flying that way. Again, this was so much faster than paint-running. They went hurtling through the air. It was like comparing a prop plane to a fighter jet. The ground below Cassidy went flying past so quickly it was an indistinguishable blur. It only lasted for a few seconds, yet when they came to a halt in the air, she realized they had flown miles through the city.


    ¡°Your house is there,¡± Radiant informed her with a nod toward a recognizable building in the distance. ¡°So that drainage ditch you were talking about--¡±


    ¡°That way!¡± Cassidy pointed. ¡°The trees, they¡¯re right there, and the ditch is--¡± That was all she had to say, apparently, because they were suddenly a blur of motion once more. The ground went flashing by beneath them so quickly, Cassidy had no idea how the woman kept track of where she was. It was all just a rush of colors and shapes to her.


    The next thing she knew, they were landing on the far side of the culvert. Even as Radiant released her, Cassidy heard the sound of running footsteps splashing through the couple inches of water in the ditch. She turned, just in time to see Izzy come rushing out into sight. Immediately, she lunged that way, catching hold of the younger girl in a tight hug.


    ¡°Ri-right, right behind me,¡± Izzy panted as she clung tightly to Cassidy. ¡°They''re right behind me. I--I can¡¯t¡­ I¡­¡± She trailed off, staring past the other girl as her gaze had finally taken in the sight of who had brought Cassidy there, the glowing woman. ¡°Uhhh¡­.¡±


    Radiant, in turn, held a hand out toward the culvert. A second later, another glowing figure appeared directly in front of her, identical to the woman herself. That figure went flying off into the tunnel, before abruptly exploding in a blinding flash of light.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t put much power behind that one,¡± Radiant informed the two younger girls. ¡°Just enough to make them think twice. Come on, let¡¯s go.¡± She held a hand out to both of them. ¡°It¡¯s alright, trust me. Let¡¯s get out of here. We can talk more when you¡¯re both safe.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t carry both of us,¡± Cassidy managed to stammer.


    ¡°She makes things weightless, right?¡± Radiant pointed out, nodding toward Izzy. ¡°I think I¡¯ve picked up enough to know who she is, anyway.¡±


    The girls exchanged brief glances, before the sound of shouting voices through the culvert drew their attention to the reality that those men wouldn¡¯t be slowed down for long. And while Radiant could clearly handle them, better to get out and escape before they even knew for sure she was there. Izzy promptly waved her hands to summon a rush of water, which soaked herself and Cassidy. A second later, the two of them began to float a bit off the ground.


    As soon as they were suitably weightless, Radiant launched herself that way. She caught both girls by the arm, and then they were gone. Once more, the only thing Cassidy could see was a blur of color and motion, shapes of trees, houses, and other buildings entirely indistinguishable from one another.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    That continued for ten more seconds, before they abruptly came to a stop hovering above a small park on the far side of the city. It was barely large enough for a small playground that the younger neighborhood children played on, and a basketball court for the older ones. At the entrance, where the brick path led to either the playground or the court, was a bronze statue of Betty Shabazz, wife of Malcolm X.


    Landing slightly behind the statue, far out of sight of the road, Radiant turned to the two. ¡°Take out your phones. Throw them away. Get rid of them now, your parents could be tracking them. They will be tracking them, probably already are.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t know about this one,¡± Cassidy informed her, already throwing the phone her parents did know about to the ground while holding onto the phone she used as Paintball. ¡°But they¡¯ll be here soon. I mean their people will. I mean you--you¡¯re--you¡¯re¡­¡± She was gaping at the woman again.


    ¡°Radiant,¡± Izzy finished for her, after throwing her own phone next to Cassidy¡¯s. ¡°She¡¯s Radiant.¡±


    ¡°How come I--I didn¡¯t throw up?¡± Cassidy found herself demanding. ¡°We were--you yanked us so fast. I didn¡¯t--my stomach didn¡¯t even react. How--why--huh?¡±


    With a smile that was hidden behind the metal mask, the woman simply replied, ¡°My power compensates for that feeling, even in people I¡¯m just touching. Now there¡¯s a lot more for us to discuss, but--¡± She cut herself off, looking to the side as the lights of an approaching vehicle grew visible. The other two tensed, yet Radiant simply gestured for them to follow as they stepped closer to the road.


    It was Lincoln Chambers, in a dark red jeep. He pulled the vehicle to a stop, before gesturing for them to get in. ¡°Pretty sure I heard sirens start up back there, so let¡¯s not dilly dally too much.¡±


    In response, Radiant held her hand out. ¡°Scanner,¡± she requested before catching the large flashlight-shaped device the man tossed. When she flipped it on, no light emerged. Yet there was a steady clicking sound. She waved the device up and down both teenagers from head to foot before clicking it off. ¡°They¡¯re good, no trackers.¡± With that, she handed it back to Lincoln before gesturing. ¡°Time to go.¡±


    The two girls exchanged brief looks, both of them still completely reeling from the entire sequence of events. Cassidy, at least, had some actual context to what was going on, but Izzy had almost nothing. All she knew was that the other girl had called her out of the blue to say her parents knew that she knew everything and Izzy had to run. Then there were people with tranquilizers chasing her (which had not done anything to help her mood, given the trauma of being chased by those men who had worked with Handler), and she was running through the woods. Now Radiant was here for some reason, along with some guy she didn¡¯t recognize at all.


    Yeah, to say that Izzy was confused was an understatement. She was utterly and completely lost. Not to mention scared. Before moving another step, she focused on Cassidy. ¡°W-what¡¯s going on? What happened? Why--how?¡±


    Rather than answer right away, the other girl turned and looked off into the darkness, as though she could actually hear those distant sirens. Then she turned back to Izzy, blanching. ¡°Tell you on the way. Come on, we don¡¯t wanna be found here. Or anywhere. But especially not out in the open like this, not right now.¡± She took the younger girl¡¯s hand and tugged her to the back of the jeep.


    Together, they climbed inside. Radiant took the front passenger seat, and Lincoln pulled away smoothly. He didn¡¯t speed, though he definitely wasn¡¯t taking his time. Nor did he turn as flashing red and blue police lights rapidly approached. Instead, the man glanced over to his wife and asked, ¡°What do you think, old couple?¡±


    ¡°Better than the surfers around this place,¡± she replied simply.


    ¡°Fair,¡± Lincoln agreed. As the approaching police car drew close enough to make out its shape, he reached out to touch a button on the dash. The jeep was filled with a low humming sound. In the next moment, the police car passed them, slowing as the cop inside turned his head to look straight at Lincoln and the costumed Radiant before simply moving on.


    ¡°Holographic glass,¡± the man explained to the girls in the back. ¡°Our friend back there saw a nice old lady behind the wheel while her doting husband held a cute little labradoodle.¡±


    Staring that way, Cassidy managed a weak, ¡°You people already have holographic illusions to hide from the cops?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Radiant corrected, ¡°not usually the cops, no. But it helps maintain a secret identity. And it¡¯s a good way to disappear when a certain reporter annoys the wrong subject.¡±


    ¡°The point is, we¡¯re not new to this sort of thing,¡± Lincoln put in. ¡°Uh, I mean, this is pretty new. But when you do this for long enough, you either fall real hard, or you prep for things.¡±


    At that, Radiant turned to look at him. She took off the mask, revealing the rest of her face. ¡°Speaking of preparing for things, the kids?¡± Despite how cool and collected they had been throughout all of this, when she brought that up, there was the slightest hint of worry in her voice.


    ¡°They¡¯re good, already made the call two seconds after I left you,¡± Lincoln assured her, taking a turn to get off that street as they heard more sirens. ¡°I gave them the code phrase, they got out of their friend¡¯s place and made sure they weren¡¯t followed. They¡¯re holed up in hideaway motel number three on the list. It was the closest one.¡±


    ¡°Hideaway motel number three?¡± Cassidy blurted from the backseat. ¡°You rented rooms at three different motels for your kids to go hide in if they needed to, just in case? You have code phrases to make them do that?¡±


    Radiant shifted a bit to look at the two of them in the backseat. ¡°We rented rooms at five different motels, actually. All under different names, of course. And all ahead of time on different days. Like he said, we prep for things. Especially going on a trip into a new place where we might end up poking a hornets¡¯ nest or two.¡±


    Over the next few minutes, while Lincoln drove through the dark streets of a more suburban area of town to look for a safe place to park for a little while, Cassidy gave Izzy a quick rundown of what exactly had happened during the dinner at Caishen¡¯s place. As she confessed about losing her mind when it had sounded as though her parents were trying to get their hands on Lightning Bug, there was obvious guilt in her voice, the girl flinching a bit. ¡°I should¡¯ve held it together. I just--I lost it. I was thinking about her and¡­ and the way they were obviously grooming you and¡­¡± Trailing off, she swallowed hard. ¡°I really fucked up.¡±


    By that point, Lincoln had found a dirt road that ran up behind a school, overlooking a bike trail. Pulling the jeep to a stop, he shifted into park, cut the engine, and looked to his wife. ¡°Okay then,¡± he started, ¡°I think it¡¯s time we get some answers of our own about what just happened.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Cassidy blurted, ¡°first, you¡¯re Radiant?!¡± It was clear that it had taken everything she had to hold that in. Now, she was staring open-mouthed at the woman in question. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m sorry. I just--I know there¡¯s so much other stuff, and you just found out about my parents running this town and all the gangs in it, and all the running away and everything, but you¡¯re Radiant?!¡±


    It was the two adults¡¯ turn to exchange silent looks in the front seat for several long seconds. Then Lincoln looked back to the girls and gave a short nod. ¡°We trust you know how important it is to keep that secret. Then again, it seems you''ve been keeping a lot of secrets already.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s kind of a thing,¡± Cassidy muttered. ¡°At least until I freak out at my parents and give away what I know like an idiot.¡±


    Joselyn¡¯s voice was gentle. ¡°It sounds as though you were under a lot of pressure. Even more than we thought at first, if your parents were able to say enough to those police to get them out there looking for you already.¡±


    With a groan, Cassidy sank back against the seat while her head shook. "You don''t know the half of it.¡±


    ¡°Well, let me see.¡± Lincoln spoke up. ¡°Your father is Silversmith. Your parents have access to someone named Kent Jackson who can do something to people¡¯s memories. Erase them, at the very least. They did that to you at least once before and you recently found out. Probably around the same time that you Touched, given you haven¡¯t been active long. Your parents also secretly hold some measure of influence over the authorities in town. Through their money, if nothing else. But I suspect more than that. And, given his own secret identity, I would imagine your father has a fair amount of sway over several Star-Touched. And, well, you did just say that they run the gangs in this town. They¡¯re playing both sides.¡±


    Izzy snorted at that, folding her arms. ¡°You could say that.¡±


    So, over the next ten minutes, Cassidy told the two adults everything about her family and the so-called Ministry, how they operated, and how much control and influence they had over nearly every organization in the city, good and bad alike.


    ¡°My parents are rich,¡± she informed them, ¡°but when I say they own this city, it¡¯s a lot more than that. They own this city. Maybe even the state. And now they want to find me, us. Izzy, me, and both of you. Probably your kids too.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Lincoln started while taking his phone out, ¡°I don¡¯t think they can stop--¡± He paused, squinting at the screen. ¡°Apparently they can stop cell service. I¡¯ve got no bars and no internet connection.¡±


    Cassidy and Joselyn both checked their phones to find identical situations. Hearing that, Izzy made a noise in the back of her throat. ¡°What¡¯d they do, shut down cell service and wi-fi for the entire city?!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re desperate,¡± Cassidy muttered. ¡°They know you¡¯re a reporter, a famous one. They can¡¯t let you send any messages back home. They can¡¯t let you--any of us get anything out of the city. Here, they can have people watching any of the news stations or whatever to shut us down if we try to go on the air. At the police stations too. And¡­ and probably anywhere else we might go.¡±


    Lincoln was nodding. ¡°Yeah. And if they control as many Touched as you say, even Radiant might have a problem getting around if you¡¯re not careful. Something tells me they won¡¯t be very subtle about siccing as many Fell-Touched as they need to on any new Stars who aren¡¯t supposed to be here right now.¡±


    The words made Cassidy flinch, though she couldn¡¯t dispute them. ¡°You¡¯re right, they--¡±


    In mid-sentence, she was interrupted by a series of loud alert sounds from all three phones as they lit up simultaneously with an emergency broadcast message.


    ¡°Abduction alert,¡± Cassidy read aloud. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ us, both of us. They list everything about us. And¡­ and it says you abducted us. It says you¡¯re part of a¡­¡± Her eyes widened.


    ¡°An Abyssal Cult,¡± Joselyn muttered. ¡°They want people to think that we¡¯re going to try to sacrifice both of you to an Abyssal. Gets them riled up and out looking. They¡¯ll be watching all the exits out of town too, and I don¡¯t think our glass hologram will fool the people they¡¯ll have there.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡­ what are we gonne do?¡± Izzy asked in a small voice, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening.


    ¡°First, we¡¯ll get Zed and Lexi,¡± Joselyn informed us. ¡°Then we¡¯re going to do exactly what your parents are afraid of.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to expose them.¡±

 Kith And Kin 20-03

    Damn it, why did my brother have to show up now? I already had enough to deal with. Why did it have to turn out that my family was protecting the guy who had killed Murphy¡¯s brother? Seriously, this guy? They had to protect this guy? Fuck. Now this whole situation had suddenly become a lot more complicated. And it came just when we had the guy dead to rights. Because of course it had. We couldn¡¯t just finish this thing just by chasing Luciano down and sending him to prison that easily. Something like this had to happen.


    That rush of annoyed and worried thoughts flooded through my head even as I pivoted that way. I saw my brother, of course. He was standing there in a pair of designer jeans, with a gleaming silver shirt, red leather jacket, and thin red leather gloves. Though I was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t be what the other two saw. He was almost certainly using one of those illusion devices, or whatever they were. The point was, I highly doubted he was actually standing here in the open looking just like himself.


    Murphy was already snapping her shotgun back and forth between the man who had killed her brother, and the new arrival. She was clearly right on the edge of losing it entirely. ¡°Who the hell are you? Back off! Just get the fuck away, this doesn¡¯t have anything to do with you.¡±


    With his hands raised, Simon gave a slow shake of his head. ¡°Two things. One, I¡¯m afraid this does concern me. See that guy there has paid an awful lot of money to make it concern me. Not saying I¡¯m his biggest fan, but money is money, and we have a reputation to keep. And two, I really don¡¯t like people pointing guns at me. Especially jumpy people with their finger way too close to the trigger.¡±


    Even as he said that, Simon made a grasping motion with his right hand. A sudden silvery glowing rope or cable (actually not too dissimilar from Silversmith¡¯s power) extended from that leather glove, catching hold of the shotgun barrel. With a sudden yank, he tore the weapon from her hands as Murphy yelped, tossing it over to the side about twenty feet away, where it clattered to the ground.


    She made a motion as though to go after it, but abruptly Simon¡¯s other hand snapped out and a pistol suddenly appeared in it, jumping out of the sleeve of his jacket. ¡°Uh uh,¡± he called out. ¡°Just stay there. Trust me, I know why you¡¯re so pissed, and I don¡¯t blame you. I really don¡¯t. He¡¯s a piece of shit. But just stay there.¡± His eyes moved to me then, squinting as though trying to figure out why I had remained rooted to the ground. ¡°If you¡¯re planning something, kid, it¡¯s a bad idea.¡±


    Planning something? No, not really. At that very moment I was still mostly reeling from having my brother this close. It cut through a lot of the confidence I¡¯d built up over these past weeks. All I could think about at that moment was how nervous I was about keeping my identity from him. I¡¯d managed it back when I was first starting out, of course. But I wasn¡¯t sure how much of that was luck. And I hadn¡¯t really stayed and talked to him. Actually standing here and interacting with him? Even with my changed voice, I was terrified that he would immediately figure out who I really was. This whole situation had become a lot more dangerous.


    And yet, what was I supposed to do? I could not and would not let the guy who had killed Murphy¡¯s brother just walk away, no matter how worried I was about my brother and my secret identity. That wouldn¡¯t happen. It was wrong, and she¡¯d never forgive me, no matter how much I explained. I had to do something about it, but I still had no idea what. Could I actually fight my brother? I¡¯d seen how easily he dismantled that guy back at the mall. Yes, I had powers, but could I actually deal with him when he had his skill, the pistol, and those clearly Touched-Tech gloves? A small voice in the back of my head was insisting that I had faced much worse threats. And yet, I couldn¡¯t stop telling myself that he was my big brother and I didn¡¯t stand a chance.


    ¡°Paintball?¡± Murphy spoke up in a confused, worried, helpless tone. And it was hearing that, the obvious pain and loss in the voice of a girl I cared about, which snapped me out of my moment of being completely paralyzed by indecision and panic.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I found myself blurting without thinking about it, ¡°I was just trying to figure out what makes you think you¡¯re going to walk in here and stop this worthless fuck from going to prison where he belongs. He¡¯s a murderer. You really wanna walk in here and defend a murderer?¡± I tried to keep my voice more casual than it wanted to be. I did not want Simon wondering why Paintball would be emotionally upset about that. I didn¡¯t want him wondering anything about me at all, if I could help it. God, this whole thing was so dangerous. In more ways than one.


    ¡°Fuck you, cocksucker!¡± Luciano snapped. ¡°You think you can judge me just cuz I capped a few assholes? You¡¯re just a¨C¡±


    He was interrupted by Murphy making a noise of outrage in the back of her throat, starting to throw herself at him. Which made Simon snap his gun that way to warn her. But I moved first, before he could speak. Besides being frozen by indecision, I had spent the past few moments painting designs across the back of my costume. I activated green, orange, and purple spots while lunging that way. Speed, toughness, and strength boosts, all at once.


    It wasn¡¯t enough. Even moving a little under twice as fast as I would have normally, Simon still had quicker reflexes. He pivoted aside smoothly, snatching the outstretched pistol away from my grasping fingers as his other hand snapped out to catch hold of my wrist. In an instant, his foot collided with my ankle while he gave my arm a yank. The next thing I knew, I was tumbling head over heels and landing on my back on the cement. It didn¡¯t hurt, but the sudden rush of being knocked around like that was enough to leave me briefly disoriented.


    Simon was standing over me, starting it to point his gun down to tell me not to move. But before he could get more than a single word of it out, I managed to lash out and up with one foot. A foot that had a blue spot on the bottom of my shoe. Just as my foot made contact with his pistol, I activated the paint. Between the purple strength that was still running through me, and the added boost from the blue push, the gun was sent flying away from him.


    Instantly, I lashed out again in a kick toward his stomach. But Simon caught my ankle under his arm and twisted so that the force I was trying to use to kick him was instead spent in spinning myself sideways along the ground.


    In the process of that, I caught a glimpse of Murphy. She wasn¡¯t having much more luck. She had jumped on Luciano¡¯s back, but he yanked her off and was about to throw her bodily to the ground. My hand snapped out in the midst of being yanked around by my ankle, shooting orange paint, then a quick burst of purple that way. Both hit, a pair of orange and purple splotches across the side of her shirt, activating just before she was slammed to the cement.


    Hoping that that would be enough to help her get out of that, I slapped my own hand against the cement and painted the palm blue. The sudden force from that, as my hand rebounded away from the sidewalk, shoved my foot out of Simon¡¯s grasp and up, kicking his stomach. It wasn¡¯t nearly as hard as I was trying for, given the way he twisted aside at the last second, but it was still enough to make him stumble backward while reflexively releasing my leg.


    I was able to spring back to my feet by that point, before he could recover. A quick glance to the side showed that Murphy had taken advantage of the paint I gave her. She grabbed Luciano¡¯s foot with both hands and yanked it out from under him, sending the man to the ground with a blurted curse.


    Meanwhile Simon was already lunging at me, giving a muttered curse of his own about me being a stupid asshole or something to that effect. Quickly, I activated another picture across my costume, this one of an orange demon face with a wide grinning face of purple teeth and green eyes.


    Again, purple strength, green speed, and orange toughness. Sure, it wasn¡¯t a huge picture, I was still trying to conserve paint as much as I could. But still, it made me about as strong as an adult man, about half again as fast as I should have been, and tough enough to tank a bullet.


    And it still wasn¡¯t enough. Not really. My brother was too fast, too skilled. He had been doing this for a long time, that much was patently obvious. Despite having no powers, and not even using those gloves of his, he evaded every single punch I threw at him over those few seconds. He wasn¡¯t even actually trying to hit me back or anything, aside from a few light taps as though he was testing me. Or maybe taunting me. Whichever the case, what mattered was that I couldn¡¯t actually hit him. I needed more speed. But that would mean using more paint.


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    I had to. I could either conserve paint and keep being too slow to actually hit him until I ran out of everything anyway, or I could expend it and maybe manage something useful in the process. It was the only real shot I had with this. Especially with Murphy struggling against Luciano right behind me. I needed to change things up and take a risk. I needed to end this fight right now. But I also had to make it count. I needed to create an opening that I could take advantage of.


    With that in mind, I lunged backward away from Simon to create a little distance between us. Thankfully, the fact that Simon was busy showing off meant that he didn¡¯t press me too much. He clearly thought that there was nothing I could do. And now I was (hopefully) going to make him choke on that assumption. That¡¯s what I told myself, anyway. This whole thing reminded me of all the times I had wrestled with my brother. I hadn¡¯t won any of those either. At least, not without cheating.


    So, cheating it was. With a blurted curse, I threw myself that way, letting loose with a completely wild punch that Simon easily evaded before pivoting back around to grab my arm so he could casually throw me to the ground.


    At least¡­ that was what he attempted to do. But just as his hands closed on my arm, I painted it pink. The force of his grip made my arm completely collapse under his hands, squeezing out both sides of his tightened fists. It didn¡¯t hurt, of course. But boy was it weird. Luckily, I had been ready for it. Simon, on the other hand, wasn¡¯t. As my arm, bone and all, collapsed as though he had squeezed a large tube of toothpaste or frosting too hard, Simon made a noise of confusion.


    He had just enough time for his gaze to snap down to see what happened to my arm before I dismissed the paint early. Instantly, my arm snapped back to the way it should be, with enough force that Simon¡¯s hands were snapped back away from me. And in that very instant, I painted almost my entire body green, save for purple on my fists. I thought about going with a bit of orange protection, but no, I needed every bit of speed I could get. I spent all the paint I had left in that moment to make myself as fast as possible. Then I lashed out with a punch. Even with that speed, Simon nearly avoided it. Not because he was anywhere near as fast as I was, not really. But because he was such a good fighter that he actually anticipated what was about to happen and was already moving almost before I did. His head twisted, but my fist was just a hair faster. Fast enough, in this case, to nail him right in the chin. It made his head snap back. My fist hurt after that, but I couldn¡¯t think about it. I had to follow up. I only had seconds of speed. Eight now. Then I would be completely out, at least for a few seconds.


    Simon still hadn¡¯t recovered entirely from the force of his hands being thrust away from my arm. He was reeling backward thanks to a combination of that, and being punched in the chin. And I was already moving to follow up. With a grunt and lunge, I buried both fists into his stomach. The force staggered him, even as he dropped his hands to grab onto my shoulders. But again, I was still faster. Before he could finish grabbing me, I ducked and pivoted to get out from under his left arm. At the same time, I caught his extended wrist with my own left hand, and held it out to full extension while simultaneously lashing out with one foot to kick the back of his knee. As that buckled under the force of the blow thanks to my still slightly enhanced strength, I brought my right hand up to collide hard with the middle of his back. With his hand captured in my grip and his knee kicked out from under him, Simon couldn¡¯t stop himself from falling face-first to the ground.


    The instant he was on the ground, before he could recover, I grabbed a set of handcuffs from my jumpsuit pocket, latching one side around the wrist I was still holding and the other around a nearby pipe that extended out from the building. They weren¡¯t the special stay-down type, but at least they would hold him for a minute.


    A quick glance up showed that Murphy had managed to get Simon¡¯s gun, the one I had kicked out of his hand, and was pointing it at Luciano while he lay on the ground. She was shaking a bit, staring intently down at him while keeping the pistol pointed that way. Immediately, I stumbled that way, the paint already wearing off. ¡°Get him up, let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go!¡± I blurted. We had to hurry. I did not want to think about what would happen when Simon got out of that¨C


    Something hit me in the back, colliding with enough force that I was sent sprawling to the ground. Nearby, I saw Murphy hit the pavement as well. And I also saw what had hit her. It was one of those silver cable things that Simon¡¯s gloves could make. They were sort of like a mix between one of Silversmith¡¯s constructs, and Whamline¡¯s¡­ lines. Either way, we had each been hit by one of them hard enough to knock us down. A second later, both lines grabbed onto the prone Luciano¡¯s arms, yanking him up and away from us.


    With a blurted curse, I managed to jerk myself over onto my side and look that way. Sure enough, in those brief couple of seconds, Simon had already managed to free himself from the handcuffs. He was back on his feet and had used those cable things to knock both of us down and then yank Luciano over to him. He wrapped one cable tightly around the man and then extended his hand. Even as I shouted out for him to stop, my own voice lost in the furious scream from Murphy, Simon sent the other cable out toward the roof of a nearby building and let it yank him that way. Luciano was pulled after him.


    ¡°Paintball, stop them! Stop him!¡± Murphy screamed at me, already scrambling to her feet.


    I tried, lunging up and extending my hand. Red paint. Just a little bit of red paint. Just enough to yank that guy away from my brother. It wouldn¡¯t take much, right? I just needed a bit. But nothing came. It hadn¡¯t been long enough yet, and I was still out of paint.


    Cursing, I shook my head. ¡°Fuck, fuck, I can¡¯t, I don¡¯t have paint! I¡¯m out!¡±


    An inarticulate bellow of rage escaped the other girl as she grabbed the pistol she had dropped and pointed it that way. She was about to start blindly firing after them when I grabbed her arm. ¡°Stop!¡±


    ¡°Get off me!¡± Murphy shoved me away, making me almost stumble and fall. ¡°He¡¯s not getting away!¡± She turned back, gun raised. But they were gone. Simon and Luciano had disappeared off the opposite side of the roof. Murphy, in turn, screamed out and pivoted to drop the gun. Her fist punched the wall, then she hit it again, and again. She was cursing and crying all at once, punching the wall repeatedly as she ranted about hating everyone and everything. With a choked sob, she collapsed to her knees and clutched her stomach. One hand yanked the mask off and dropped it before she doubled over and threw up.


    I stood there, staring, as Murphy fell onto her side, curling up in the fetal position while her entire body shook. She was crying so hard she couldn¡¯t breathe, while a jumble of words that didn¡¯t make a lot of sense escaped her. I can only catch some of it. She was saying something about McDonald¡¯s, a bus, and a rehab center. She kept saying rehab over and over again, and clothes. No, close. She kept repeating ¡®close, so close,¡¯ and that she just wanted him to eat. She brought him food, she wanted him to eat. She wanted him to sit down. Something about laying on the couch. If he¡¯d been laying on the couch, he wouldn¡¯t have been hit. And that she was sorry. She was so sorry. All of that mixed into cursing about everyone she hated. At that moment, I was pretty sure I was on that list. Not that I blamed her.


    Looking around briefly, I took a seat next to her and was silent for the moment. I had no idea what to do, but I wanted her to know that she wasn¡¯t alone right then, even if I wasn¡¯t the person she wanted to be with her. Swallowing hard, I reached out to touch her shoulder very gently. Immediately, she jerked away with a blurted curse. But I kept my hand there, shifting a bit closer. She stopped, slumping a bit more against the ground. All the energy seemed to have left her body. She was exhausted, having been running on fumes for a long time. Her rage was a fire that lit the fuel of her grief. And now the rage had run out. There was no more target for her to attack, so the anger had fallen away for the moment. The fire of rage was gone, leaving only the fuel of the grief. And the fumes of that were choking her.


    Scooting closer, I put my back to the wall and slipped an arm around the other girl, pulling her into an embrace. She didn¡¯t fight it. Instead, the girl just leaned against me, shaking uncontrollably.


    ¡°Gone,¡± Murphy finally murmured in a broken voice, once we had sat there like that for a couple minutes. ¡°He¡¯s gone. He¡¯s gone.¡±


    I knew she wasn¡¯t talking about Luciano. It was Tyson. Her brother was gone. He had been murdered in cold blood, and the man responsible had just gotten away.


    For now.


    ¡°We¡¯ll find the piece of shit,¡± I quietly assured her. ¡°I promise. I swear, Murphy. We¡¯ll find him. He won¡¯t get away. We¡¯ll find him.¡±


    Her head shook a little, as she made a noise deep in her throat that sounded like a cross between confusion and anger. Finally, she pulled back, staring at me. Without the mask, I could see the tears that ran freely down her face. ¡°Who the fuck was that?! Who¨Cwhat the fuck did that¨Cwhat did he mean about paying a lot of money to make it his concern? W-was that a Sell-Touched? What was he¨CI never¨Cwho¨C¡± Her words were all jumbled together into a nearly incoherent ramble. But I understood. I knew what she was asking. She wanted to know who Simon was, where he had come from, and what that whole situation with Luciano ¡®paying for protection¡¯ was about.


    ¡°Murphy,¡± I spoke quietly, my voice just the right tone to make her look at me, staring through the tears that had half-blinded her as I continued. ¡°I think¡­ I think we need to talk.


    ¡°I need to tell you the truth about what happens in this city.¡±

 Kith And Kin 20-04

    I didn¡¯t start immediately. Mostly because I figured this whole story would be told to Roald anyway, so it was probably for the best that I just tell him at the same time. Besides, Murphy was obviously still broken up, barely keeping herself in any shape to listen. She needed her best friend. So, I gave the boy a call and asked him to meet us right here. Yeah, it was maybe a little risky to not move away from the spot where we¡¯d fought Simon and Luciano, but I was pretty sure neither of them had any intention of coming back here anytime soon.


    We did hear sirens approaching, and I checked to see that they were headed into the lot over by the laundromat. I probably needed to go over there and explain what happened, or at least some of it. But I wasn¡¯t going to leave Murphy alone right now. Not in the state that she was in. While waiting for Roald to show up, I took a seat next to her once more and put an arm around the girl again. She was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, head lowered as her shoulders shook. Her eyes were closed, and she didn¡¯t say anything during the time we were sitting there. She just cried mostly silently to herself. She didn¡¯t return the half-embrace, but nor did she pull away from me. It was clear that she was too lost in her grief to want to talk, and I had no idea what to say anyway. So, the two of us sat in silence. Which really told me all I needed to know about how broken Murphy was right then, given she hadn¡¯t really pushed hard for me to immediately explain what the hell I had just been talking about.


    Simon. God damn it, Simon. Why did you have to help that guy escape? He was a murdering piece of shit, and you knew that. Even as the angry thoughts flashed through my mind, I knew the answer. He helped the guy escape because Luciano paid for protection. This was the Ministry. They helped bad guys get away with crimes if they paid their taxes. And the people left behind with no justice were like Murphy. My family helped those pieces of shit get away, and people like this girl in tears next to me were just expected to suck it up. The thought was making me angrier by the second, and I had to close my eyes to let out a long breath so I could keep it under control. I had to keep it under control if I was actually going to explain the situation to these two. And I had to tell them now. After what had just happened, I couldn¡¯t keep it away from them anymore. There was no way. Murphy deserved to know the truth. And if this situation was going to continue at all, they both deserved to know what the Ministry really was.


    It didn¡¯t take long for Roald to show up. And he wasn¡¯t alone. Apparently at some point in the intervening time, he had managed to get hold of Alloy, and she snuck out of her own home. The two of them came flying in on one of the marble hoverboards, landing nearby. Immediately, Roald went to sit on the other side of Murphy, and I let her go so she could lean on him.


    ¡°What¡­ what happened?¡± Alloy asked tensely while I stood up. ¡°Did you¡­¡±


    ¡°He got away,¡± I murmured under my breath. Nope, the anger I felt about that whole situation hadn¡¯t dissipated at all in the time we¡¯d been waiting. Saying those words still made me want to turn around and punch a hole in the nearby wall, without help from the pink paint. And scream. I really felt like screaming. But I kept it together. I had to.


    Alloy reeled back a bit from the news, even though she had to be expecting it. I supposed she¡¯d been hoping for the best. Her head shook. ¡°Is there any way we could still find him? I mean if we start right now, we could¨C¡±


    ¡°He knows something.¡± That was Murphy. She had pushed herself to her feet as well, pointing at me. ¡°He knows something about what happened. He said he¡¯d explain. There was some guy here, and Luciano said he¡¯d paid for help. He was a Sell-Touched or¡­ or something. But he wasn¡¯t¨Che helped that fucker¨C¡± Her voice broke at that point, even as Roald caught her arm to steady her. ¡°That guy helped that fucker get away. Paintball said he knew what was going on. He said he¡¯d explain what is really going on in this city. Whatever that means.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re ready to tell them the truth?¡± Peyton asked quietly, rocking back a bit on her heels. She sounded surprised.


    ¡°What¨Cyou know something about it?¡± Roald looked to the girl, then back to me. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Now all three of them were looking at me expectantly. Peyton because she knew what was coming, and the other two because they didn¡¯t. Oh boy, I really had to get into this again. I had to tell Murphy and Roald the truth. Or at least, part of it. I knew what was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do. But that didn¡¯t make it any easier to start talking. A part of me was screaming that I was opening up too much already. Izzy and Amber knew the whole truth, all of it. To say nothing of Paige and Raige. And Peyton knew about the Ministry. The secret was spreading too much. And now I was going to talk about the Ministry part with these two? A whole parade of ¡®what ifs¡¯ went through my mind in those long few seconds.


    Finally, I forced all of it down and focused on Murphy. I thought about how I would feel if I was in her situation and had no idea what had just happened. That was all it took. With those thoughts in mind, I exhaled and then started to talk.


    Over the next few minutes, I explained what the Ministry was, and how they operated. I talked about how they had infiltrated every single Touched group in the city to one extent or another, as well as all law enforcement, the courts, everyone in power.


    ¡°It¡¯s not everyone, it¡¯s not even necessarily people like the mayor or anything like that,¡± I explained. ¡°It could just be, say, the mayor¡¯s secretary or something. Someone who can get information in and out, that sort of thing. They have ins everywhere, on both sides. And like I said, the bad guys pay them for permission to operate in the city. Like this whole gang war that¡¯s going on right now, they paid for permission to do that. Both sides, I think. I mean, I¡¯m not sure on how that works exactly, but I¡¯m pretty sure the Ministry is refereeing the whole thing. Or whatever. The point is, they¡¯re the ones in charge of the city.¡± I looked to Murphy. ¡°That¡¯s what Luciano meant before. He made his payments, so they stepped in and helped him escape when he got in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Believe me,¡± Peyton put in, ¡°I was pretty freaked out too. It might be a little hard to believe at f¨C¡±


    ¡°They helped that piece of shit get away?¡± That was Murphy, interrupting as she stared at me. Her voice cracked just a little. ¡°You¡¯re saying he paid them some cash and now they¡¯re gonna help him get away with it? What part of that is supposed to be hard to believe? He has money and he spends it to get away with everything, even murder. That¡¯s not hard to believe, it¡¯s just every other fucking day.¡± Her voice practically oozed bitterness.


    My mouth opened to tell her that I understood, but I stopped myself just in time. Because I really didn¡¯t understand. That would have been one of the worst possible things I could ever say. I would never really understand what it was like to live like these guys did. And I sure as hell didn¡¯t understand what it was like to have my brother killed right in front of me. So I didn¡¯t say that. Instead, I took a deep breath before starting with, ¡°He¡¯s not getting away. Not forever. We¡¯ll find him, I swear. Whatever it takes, we will find that fucker and bring him down.¡±


    ¡°And how are we supposed to do that?¡± Roald was the one asking that time. ¡°You said these Ministry guys basically control, or like, influence every group in the city, right? Including the cops. So how are we supposed to find out where he is? And even if we find him, how are we supposed to get anyone to arrest him? You know, without immediately ¡®losing¡¯ him and all the evidence or whatever.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he shouldn¡¯t get to go to prison,¡± Murphy retorted a bit sharply. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a privilege he threw away when he killed a bunch of people. You know, people like my brother.¡± For the most part, there was pure rage in her voice. But at the last bit, when she said the word brother, it broke a little bit. The grief was tearing her up.


    It would have been pointless to start an argument right then with her about what we would do with the guy. So, instead, I simply answered both of them with, ¡°We¡¯ll figure out how to handle him when we get a bit closer to that. As for finding him, we need to figure out where the Ministry sent him. We need to get a look at their files. And as it happens, we¡¯re actually working on a way to get into one of their bases already.¡± Quickly and succinctly, I explained the bit about the secret base under the mall.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    By the time I was done, Murphy was nodding, her mouth very tight. Her hand had caught hold of Roald¡¯s arm, squeezing firm enough that I saw him wince just a little. She could barely speak through the emotions she was holding back. ¡°We¡¯ll find him. We¡¯ll find him? You won¡¯t let him get away?¡± There was a clear desperation to her voice. She needed me to promise her that.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied firmly, meeting her gaze. ¡°I swear, Murphy. I promise on¡­ on everything. We¡¯ll find him. We¡¯ll track him down. He is not going to get away. We won¡¯t let him.¡±


    She held my gaze for a long few seconds after that, our eyes locking even though she was looking at me through the helmet visor. I saw her throat move as she swallowed a few times, struggling to speak. Finally, she managed a weak, barely audible, ¡°Okay.¡±


    That was it. She didn¡¯t say anything else after that. She didn¡¯t need to. She had my promise, and I was going to keep it. Instead of speaking, the girl turned away and clutched her stomach, falling back to her knees there on the pavement. Her whole body shook heavily once, a full-on shudder before I heard the tears start again.


    Roald was right there, crouching beside her as he said something too quiet for me to hear. Peyton, meanwhile, looked back and forth between us, clearly torn about what she should be doing.


    ¡°Stay here with them,¡± I told her. ¡°Actually, when you can, you guys should probably leave, just in case someone comes back to check this place out. But just be with them. I need to go over there and tell the cops¡­ you know, some of it.¡± I still wasn¡¯t sure exactly what I was going to say, but I knew I needed to explain at least part of what had happened. Even if it did make me feel like I was abandoning Murphy. But the truth was, she had Roald. He could help her more than I could. And I was pretty sure she had even bonded with Peyton a good bit already.


    Either way, what she had needed from me was the promise that the man who killed her brother wouldn¡¯t get away. I¡¯d given her that, and planned on following through.


    But in the meantime, there was nothing I could do for the girl, as much as I wanted to. I needed to leave her alone for now. No, not alone. I needed to leave her with the people who could actually be there for her.


    Shaking off that thought, I told Peyton to text me with updates and let me know what was going on. And to tell me where they ended up going so I could meet them later. Then I pivoted and used red paint to yank myself up to the nearby roof.


    Time to go find out how much the cops knew.


    *******


    The answer, as it turned out, was both a lot and a little. They knew who had been in that laundromat and what he had been up to the rest of the night. But they weren¡¯t sure what had gone down at the building itself. Their best guess, one of the uniformed guys told me, was that one of the other small gangs had gotten pissed and came after Luciano and his people in retaliation for one of his hits that night. Which, I supposed, was fairly close to the truth. And better than the full thing, given I really didn¡¯t want them to know anything about Murphy.


    The only actual witnesses they had were a couple members of the gang themselves who hadn¡¯t managed to flee before the authorities showed up. Apparently they were telling a story about being ambushed by several armed and masked figures, saying nothing about her being a teenager. I wasn¡¯t sure whether they genuinely believed that, given how quickly Murphy had been moving around, or if they were lying to save their pride. Either way, it was another thing that protected the girl.


    I¡¯d had a little time while crossing the street and listening to what they said happened to figure out what to say. I didn¡¯t want to outright lie, but then again, I had no idea how much of what I said would go straight to the Ministry. Or how much they would share with Luciano, given what good terms they were on with him, considering the man paid his bills and all. And the absolute last thing I wanted to do was say anything that would lead back to Murphy.


    So, what I ended up telling them was that I had seen some sort of confrontation between Luciano¡¯s group and another going down, and one of my associates, whose identity I had to keep secret, had gone to get a closer look. Unfortunately, ¡®he¡¯ (another layer of protection for Murphy) had been seen and all hell broke loose. From there, I mostly told the rest of the story, except I didn¡¯t mention anything about Simon or the Ministry, of course. I told them that we followed Luciano through the tunnel, tussled with him ¡®and one of his men¡¯ at the far end of it, and then they got away.


    The police officer taking my statement didn¡¯t really question any of it. I had the feeling this was all just commonplace for him. Especially right now with the whole gang war going on. Sure enough, he finally sighed and shook his head. ¡°You see, this is what happens when we get these big gangs going to war with each other. They call in debts from the smaller gangs, make threats, and these guys get desperate enough to do shit like multiple hits in one night.¡±


    That made me do a double-take. ¡°Wait, you mean this guy was getting money to pay somebody else.¡±


    The cop, a slender Latino guy with a thin mustache and narrow eyes, who had introduced himself as Officer Sandro, nodded. ¡°Pretty much. In this case, seems like Luciano owed Oscuro a bunch of cash. Think of these guys as like a uhh¡­ subsidiary of that bigger gang. He owed Cu¨¦lebre a bunch of cash, and since this war is pretty expensive, Cu¨¦lebre called in the debt. Seems he made quite an impression on Luciano, because the guy went around calling in every tab he had. Made a big show of it too. Shot some people who didn¡¯t owe him as much, just to make sure the ones who owed him a lot got the message.¡±


    That made me reel back on my heels, bile in my throat. Fuck, Luciano wasn¡¯t even that interested in the money that Murphy¡¯s brother had owed him. He was using the guy to send a message to the bigger fish. God¡­ damn it. How was I supposed to tell the girl that? She deserved to know the whole truth, but this was going to destroy her even more. Her brother¡¯s debt and death wasn¡¯t even a big deal to Luciano, aside from a means of intimidating other people.


    One thing was for sure, I was even more determined than ever to bring that piece of shit down. I didn¡¯t care how much protection he paid for from my family, he was going to get what was coming to him.


    In any case, I thanked Officer Sandro and promised to let the authorities know if I found out anything else about Luciano or his group. Sandro, in turn, told me that I should have my ¡®associate¡¯ submit a report. They could be covered by the Touched anonymity thing too, but they still needed to explain what had happened from their point of view. That was going to be more complicated, obviously. And include a lot more half-truths or outright lies in order to protect Murphy¡¯s identity. Because no way was I going to expose who she was to my family, or their organization. That was just asking for a lot more trouble.


    Still, I promised to see what I could do and then took my leave. I walked away from the cop cars and was about to text Peyton, when a sharp whistle caught my attention. Looking that way, I saw a familiar figure standing in a nearby alley, half-shrouded in shadows. Pack. She was waving one arm, beckoning me over.


    So, after glancing around to make sure no one was looking, I jogged that way. As soon as I approached, Pack stepped back further out of sight. But I could see Riddles perched on the top of the fire escape, keeping an eye on things.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Pack started once I entered the alley. ¡°What the hell is going on?¡±


    ¡°You wanna know what¡¯s going on?¡± I caught myself, forcing the anger down. Lashing out wouldn¡¯t accomplish anything. Instead, I took a deep breath and let it out before explaining from the top. I told her about what happened to Murphy and Roald earlier on the bus, then about Tyson being murdered, and finally everything that went down over at the laundromat. Finally, I pointed out, ¡°So I guess what I¡¯m saying is that this big war your boss is pushing made Cu¨¦lebre call in debts, which made Luciano call in debts, which got people killed. Including my friend¡¯s brother.¡±


    Pack rocked backward a bit. Her hand moved to touch the side of Twinkletoes, the only other lizard she had out of their backpack cage and transformed other than Riddles. She processed that, exhaling before focusing on me. ¡°It¡¯s more complicated than that, and you know it. They tried to get Blackjack¡¯s daughter killed. She¡¯s a little kid, Paintball. She didn¡¯t deserve to suffer, and those guys were all fine with letting her die if it would hurt her dad. It¡¯s fucked up that your friend¡¯s brother was killed. Seriously, I¡¯m sorry. I¨Cit¡¯s¡­ ¡° She sighed, head shaking. ¡°I really am sorry. But Cu¨¦lebre kills people all the time. So do his lieutenants and other underlings. You can think we¡¯re all the same, but Blackjack doesn¡¯t target families like that. And he sure as hell doesn¡¯t do drive-by shootings on civilians. We have standards.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s not directly your fault, or his,¡± I replied slowly. ¡°I just¨Cthis war is hurting people. And it seems like it¡¯s just getting worse by the day. Not to mention, now the Ministry is helping that piece of shit get away with everything, just because he paid his taxes for them.¡±


    ¡°So what are we going to do about it?¡± Pack asked.


    Catching that she had said ¡®we,¡¯ I gave her a brief look while she stared at me, before nodding once in appreciation. ¡°Same plan as before. We need to find out where they took that fucker. Which means getting into their files in the base under the mall. Now Calvin and Hobbes are in on it. So they¡¯ll be helping with the tunnel.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± she replied easily. ¡°You ready to get started on that¡­¡± Checking her phone for the time to find that it was well-past midnight, she finished, ¡°Later today?¡±


    The question made me realize I really couldn¡¯t, so my head shook. ¡°I can¡¯t today. I have¡­ commitments.¡± Namely, my parents were going to be home and they would want me around. ¡°Besides, Hobbes is going to need some time. I don¡¯t¨Ctomorrow. We¡¯ll start on the tunnel tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± Pack replied. ¡°Just give me a ring when we¡¯re meeting up. And Paintball, whatever happens, I¡¯m all-in for taking this Luciano fucker down when it comes to it.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I murmured.


    ¡°Between all of us, we¡¯ll make sure this son of a bitch gets what¡¯s coming to him.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 9 - Sphere Online Forum 2

    Welcome, MagicalMagellan (click here to log-out) to the Summus Proelium HERE forums, or SPHERE. It has been (nine hours four minutes) since your previous log-in, and there have been (1/One) rule clarifications or updates and (0/Zero) administrator announcements. Click here to read them, and be aware that the system will not allow you to post any replies or make any new topics until you click the button at the bottom of any announcement(s) and rule update(s) acknowledging you have read and understand them.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Touched Identities (Boards ¨C Announcements ¨C Rule Clarifications)


    Razoev (Administrator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on April 21, 2020:


    Hey guys, just a quick clarification on something the staff have been noticing that skirts close to the line. As you know, we at Sphere do not allow any discussion about the private identities of any Touched, Star or Fell. That means no trying to figure out who they really are, ever. As we have said many times before, even accidentally outing someone through that sort of guessing can have drastic and terrible consequences. The easiest thing for us to do is a blanket ban on any of those discussions. What you do in your private life is up to you, but it won¡¯t be allowed here.


    Most of you are good about following that rule. But, as I mentioned, there is something that comes close without technically violating it up to this point. I¡¯m referring to the increasingly popular roleplaying forum, where many of you have enthusiastically joined one of several ongoing Touched games. As per the sticky at the top of that forum, all characters played there must be one hundred percent fictional. We do not allow anyone on this forum to roleplay as existing, living people. You must make up your own Touched and play as them. We¡¯ve noticed a few¡­ let¡¯s call them very thinly-veiled expies of real people, both Touched and otherwise. And a few that weren¡¯t veiled at all. So let this be extremely clear. You must make up your own character. You may use existing Touched as a baseline/starting point, but you cannot simply palette-swap a few colors around and call it good. Yes, Radiant is cool. No, you cannot make up a character who looks exactly the same except for a red costume and call her Luminous. Get creative, combine her powers with someone else¡¯s and mix things up.


    The staff will be monitoring these threads closely. Anyone who attempts to play a real person will have their posts deleted and receive a warning for a first offense. Continued violations will result in a ban from the games forum. If you are unsure if your created character is sufficiently different, feel free to message a games forum moderator and they will be happy to tell you.


    Thanks for reading, and as always, if you have any questions, feel free to message a staff member for clarification.


    ¡ª¡ª¨C


    Click here to acknowledge that you have read and understand this rule clarification. This thread has been closed to further replies. You will be unable to post new replies or topics until this clarification has been acknowledged.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Minority Thread Forty-Four (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    Berryonalake (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on April 2, 2020


    Okay, now that the joke thread is done with, back to our regularly scheduled monthly thread change. As always, the prior threads can be found archived here. Go ahead and resume discussion, and remember to follow the rules. These are minors, as you should be reminded of every time you see the name of the team. Keep that in mind and ask yourself if you should really say what you¡¯re about to before you hit the post button.


    The current membership details of the Detroit Minority can be found here


    (Showing page 49 of 51, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> ASilentPersian


    Replied on April 21, 2020:


    So, do we have any idea who the next person to move up to one of the adult teams is? I know they don¡¯t share real ages or anything for obvious reasons, but I could have sworn there was a list somewhere about which people were next up to leave the team to go somewhere else and now I can¡¯t find it anywhere.


    Oh, and while we¡¯re at it, someone really needs to update the membership list over on the main website. It still lists Kermode as a member and he went to Texas ages ago.


    ¡ª>  Mach3


    Replied on April 21, 2020:


    The website isn¡¯t actually connected to the forum anymore. Not since the split a few years ago. I don¡¯t think any of the admins here have anything to do with that, and the site itself isn¡¯t really maintained very well. That¡¯s why the list is so old. People have tried emailing the owner, but nothing really happens. You¡¯re better off just using the member list linked in the pinned post at the top of the thread.


    Anyway, trying to guess who the next person to leave the team might be gets too close to trying to guess their identities. That was the reason I got for why that list you were talking about was removed, anyway. It was all just educated guessing, nothing official. The fact is, we don¡¯t know who might leave and when. Sometimes they keep Minority members for months past their actual birthday, and sometimes they graduate them months early. It¡¯s all to obfuscate who they actually are. Face it, if you knew someone who missed class a lot, always had excuses to disappear, and showed up with bruises sometimes, then found out they had a birthday at the same time that one of the Minority members (who fit their general description) graduated, you¡¯d be a bit suspicious. So, they try to hide it with that sort of thing.


    ¡ª>  LivelyAnteater


    Replied on April 21, 2020:


    I miss Kermode, he was fun. And I¡¯m pretty sure the team could use someone with that sort of super strength right about now. They¡¯re sort of limited on that front, aside from the strength of Whamline¡¯s energy coils. Too bad Paintball still hasn¡¯t joined. I¡¯m pretty sure one of his paints makes people strong, right? He could really buff the whole team that way. Come to think of it, he¡¯d be better on a team all around. What¡¯s his deal?


    Just saying, I can¡¯t be the only one who wants to see just how crazy-effective Paintball could be if he took advantage of his support capabilities to buff everyone else on a team.


    ¡ª>  MagicalMagellan (You)


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Purple paint makes people strong. And I bet he just doesn¡¯t want to deal with any rules or team drama. Maybe he¡¯s afraid That-A-Way is the jealous type. After all, she¡¯s the one that has powers with weird rules and conditions attached to them. Her powers change based on what direction she¡¯s looking, his paints do different things based on what color they are? Maybe he thinks she¡¯ll be weird about it. ;)


    ¡ª>  RingAroundARosie


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Magellan, her powers change based on which way she¡¯s moving, not which way she¡¯s looking. It¡¯s an important distinction. But I bet you¡¯re right. She probably told him to stay away. She seems like the jealous type.


    ¡ª>  Sickstalker


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    You guys are kidding, right? TAW never struck me as that kind of person. She¡¯s always been approachable when they make appearances. Which is kind of weird given how simple her mask is. You¡¯d think someone from her school would¡¯ve recognized her by now.


    Edit: Mods this is not actually trying to guess anything about who she really is, only an observation about her costume.


    ¡ª>  Darth01110


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    They¡¯re kidding. At least I¡¯m pretty sure. And maybe the whole thing is one big mask, like the full face things from Mission Impossible.


    ¡ª>  RingAroundARosie


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    This whole thing has gone completely off-topic anyway. We¡¯ve lost sight of the most important question. If Syndicate is the next one to leave, who gets to be the leader next? My vote is for Raindrop, she seems like the one with the most level head. The others would all fall apart without her.


    ¡ª>  MagicalMagellan (You)


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Oh for sure. Raindrop¡¯s the keystone of their entire team. Can you imagine if Raindrop and Kermode were on the team at the same time? They would¡¯ve cleaned every gang out of Detroit by now. We¡¯d be living in Paradise right now. But nooo, Kermode had to graduate and go be an adult hero in Texas. So Raindrop has to try to pull everyone¡¯s weight. It¡¯s sad, really.


    ¡ª>  Flaboran


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Okay, but now I really want to see what it would look like if the youngest member of a Minority was the leader. Maybe default or something, if they Touched really early. Hm. Ideas. *zoops off to the writing forum*


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3¡­ 47, 48, 49, 50, 51


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    <> Topic ¡ª War In Detroit Thread Six (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on April 16th, 2020


    Thread number six as the last one was getting unwieldy! Remember, if you want to look at one of the previous threads for information or to find a conversation, there¡¯s an archive right here.


    You can also find a roughly up-to-date map of the current gang-claimed territories here. Do note that the lines are constantly shifting with this war going on, and nothing stays the same for very long. If you live, work, or spend any time around the front lines, be very careful and try not to be out there at night if you can help it. That¡¯s when things tend to blow up more. The city instituted a rolling curfew for civilians whenever they think something bad is about to happen. If you are in these areas, you will receive a text notification on your phone and/or hear an announcement from a passing police car. That will tell you whether to return to your home or shelter in place. Listen to these warnings. You do not want to be caught in the middle of one of these fights. The bad guys won¡¯t care about going through you to get to their enemies, and the good guys will have to spend far too much effort trying to help you instead of actually dealing with those bad guys. Just stay out of the way.


    Various emergency numbers and contact information if you see a fight starting or need assistance beyond standard 911 can be found right here. User Constructicon has been helpful enough to create a list of businesses in the area who have agreed to create shelters within where those caught in an area of effect can hunker down, and Sqornshellous Zeta turned that data into an app that you can download here. It will both alert you when there is an incident within a customizable area of where you are, and direct you to the nearest safe zone.


    (Showing page 43 of 46, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª>  Ravenjoy


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    No, I really don¡¯t think this is some kind of trick from Braintrust. You guys are getting way out there in the conspiracy theories. Why would they have anything to do with what¡¯s going on? The war is between Oscuro/Ninety-Niners and La Casa/Easy Eights. Braintrust has nothing to do with it.


    ¡ª>  StarOfImps


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    Are you sure? Because think about it. Who do we know who could make that medicine that Blackjack was using to make his super soldiers or fix his sick mother or whatever? That Doctor Worthy guy. And he used to be part of Braintrust before totally disappearing. I¡¯m telling you, this could be a long con. Braintrust sent Worthy to create these vials, manufactured a war between all these gangs, and then Braintrust can pick up the pieces when it¡¯s over. Is it really that far-fetched?


    ¡ª>  SpeakerOfFables


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    What I want to know is what those vials actually do. It has to be something big. And it can¡¯t just be simple medicine. I mean, maybe they do help someone who¡¯s sick, but it has to be more than that. Otherwise why would the other gangs have been after them so much? I¡¯m fairly certain there¡¯s more to that whole story. Something just doesn¡¯t sit right about what they said. Maybe the vials give you some sort of super-regeneration.


    Paintball and the Minority helped Blackjack get the vials, so you have to assume he at least convinced them that it was for a good cause. But that can¡¯t be the end of it. Why would the Easy Eights come in on La Casa¡¯s side in this war? Have they ever been friendly before? It just feels like there¡¯s something really important that we¡¯re all missing. And it¡¯s probably going to bug me forever.


    ¡ª>  MagicalMagellan (You)


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    Maybe they¡¯re just opportunists. Blackjack was going to go after Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners for fucking with him anyway, maybe Deicide saw an opportunity to do some damage to the other gangs and jumped on board. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s ever expressed any real problem with La Casa, even if they haven¡¯t been allies. But when Cu¨¦lebre showed up, Oscuro basically tore through all the different gangs in that area until the ones that were left allied into the Easy Eights. They¡¯ve been enemies basically forever. She probably saw La Casa as a good ally to let the Eights go to war against their real enemy.


    ¡ª>  SpeakerOfFables


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    That is a good point. I had forgotten that they had that history. It was sort of before I moved here. Still, even with that, it feels like there is something more to it. I just can¡¯t shake the thought that those vials are still going to be important somehow. They just sort of disappeared at the end of that one big fight, but I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll pop up again. They just seem too important to not come up later.


    ¡ª>  AlmanditeSerpent


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    Well if it was multiple files (edit: vials, damn autocorrect!), they probably wouldn¡¯t all be given at once, right? So there¡¯s still the chance they could be stolen again. I mean, if they were taken once¡­ OK, maybe it¡¯s not that likely because Blackjack would be an idiot not to really protect them this time, and we all know he isn¡¯t an idiot. But hey, anything could happen.


    ¡ª>  GuruOfZeal


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    Everyone be advised, there is a skirmish going on over on 87th and Dane between Coverfire, Yahui, and about a dozen Oscuro troops versus Skadi, Pivotal, and some of their people. Seems to be mostly contained to the construction area on the corner there, and authorities are on the way. But it could always escalate. Stay out of the area and follow instructions at the top of the post.


    ¡ª>  VotMoon


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    MagicalMagellan Weren¡¯t you talking up one of the restaurants in that area like an hour ago? You¡¯re not around there, are you? But if so, see if you can get a Star-Touched autograph. When it¡¯s all over and they¡¯re cleaning up, I mean. Be safe!


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡ª>  MarsSpider


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to be getting any autographs anytime soon, if she is around here. That whole situation just got worse. I¡¯m up in one of the apartments across the street and it looks like a brawl between Cardsharp and Silb¨®n just crossed over with this fight and now it¡¯s a whole thing. Most of the Minority just got here too, but I don¡¯t know how much they can do.


    ¡ª>  OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on April 19, 2020


    It¡¯ll be OK, I¡¯m a few blocks down the street, and I just saw the Spartans go past. They¡¯ll get this under control pretty soon. Everyone stay safe and hunker down until it¡¯s done.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46


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    <> Topic ¡ª La Casa Thread Twenty-Eight (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Villains)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on April 10th, 2020


    The last thread got up over two hundred pages, so it was time for a new one. Use it to discuss La Casa (the Fell-Touched team founded and currently led by Blackjack) as a team and individual members. Everything about the group as a whole that is not covered by a current events thread (such as the thread on the ongoing gang war located here) should be kept within this thread.


    The archive of previous discussion threads can be found here, and the Sphere-Wiki entry for the gang is here.


    Showing page 24 of 24, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª>  SirAnthonyWatcher


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    I don¡¯t see any of them splitting off into a new group, honestly. They all seem pretty loyal to Blackjack. Wasn¡¯t there an anonymous former rank and file gang member who said everyone loves that guy over there? Somehow, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re all going to turn on him just because of this war. I mean, it¡¯s not like it¡¯s going terrible for them.


    But if someone did leave, it would be one of the newer people. Eits, Pack, or Broadway. The others have been with Blackjack too long. So if one of those younger Touched left, they wouldn¡¯t really draw a big group to go with them. There¡¯s no way La Casa splits apart over this. Not a chance in hell.


    ¡ª> Gepetto¡¯s Lad


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    Yeah, Anthony¡¯s right. If it was one of the other gangs, then maybe. Depends. But everything I can find online talks about what a good boss Blackjack is to have. I mean, if you¡¯re a criminal. If they had the kind of problem you guys are talking about with what¡¯s going on, they¡¯d probably just talk to him about it.


    ¡ª> MagicalMagellan (You)


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    Oh, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s a fantastic boss. Just lovely. Probably gives vacation days and stock options. But you know what one drawback of being a good little employee for such a good boss might be?


    Jail. Prison. The big house. The slammer. The gulag. The clink. Up the river.


    It doesn¡¯t matter how good your boss is if you end up in prison doing the things he wants you to do. The luck for these people tends to run out. And when it does, it¡¯s not the leaders who take the fall. It¡¯s the little guys. Especially the people who just got there. Even if he isn¡¯t the type to throw his little guys under the bus, that¡¯s just the way these things work. He¡¯ll escape and the people who aren¡¯t as important get taken down.


    ¡ª> Marconi¡¯s S


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    Good point, it¡¯s always the little people who take the fall. But that¡¯s pretty much true wherever you go. You think the Star-Touched aren¡¯t getting screwed over? It¡¯s the people in charge who use and abuse them no matter what side they¡¯re on. Touched, Prev, Fell, Star, whatever. Doesn¡¯t matter. Everyone¡¯s getting fucked by the aristocracy. They¡¯re the real bad guys in this. You know what happens to them when everyone fights like this? They get even richer. This whole gangwar? You think it hurts the people in charge? Nah. It hurts the little people, and the elite just find more ways to profit off it. If those Touched were smart, they¡¯d all join up together and do something about the people exploiting everyone. They could make some real change in the world, instead of just maintaining the status quo.


    ¡ª> Obscurist


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    Marconi if you think the world isn¡¯t better than the status quo used to be before Touched came along, you should really look into some history about Detroit. This place was going down the tubes a few decades ago. Twenty years back when Touched started showing up, everything turned around. Yeah, the rich get richer, but they¡¯ve done a lot of good for the city, and the world. I¡¯m not saying it¡¯s all fantastic and perfect or anything, but it¡¯s definitely not nothing. So Touched have helped a lot. Hell, look at all the manufacturing jobs that popped up in the city. Actually, just find a picture of Detroit from the mid-90s and compare it to a picture today. It¡¯s absurd. Touched-Tech basically rebuilt this whole city and added a hell of a lot more to it. Now we¡¯re one of the biggest, richest, most advanced cities on the planet. All because of Touched stuff.


    ¡ª> MagicalMagellan (You)


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    I wasn¡¯t trying to start the communist manifesto or whatever Marconi is talking about. My point is that someone has to take the fall for this war, and it usually isn¡¯t the actual people in charge who go to prison. It¡¯s the little people, and usually the newest little people. Just don¡¯t be surprised if Eits and the others are the ones who end up getting the shaft when it¡¯s all said and done.


    ¡ª> Gepetto¡¯s Lad


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    That¡¯d be a good thing though, wouldn¡¯t it? I mean, Eits is a bad guy. They¡¯re all bad guys. They should go to prison or whatever. Isn¡¯t that the way it¡¯s supposed to work?


    ¡ª> 98Pontiac


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    Have you seen the prison system around here? We¡¯re supposed to hope they become better people. I mean, there¡¯s some that can just go straight to Breakwater, do not pass Go. Those murderous fucks like the Scions or whatever. But people like Eits and Pack? They just steal things. Sending them to prison isn¡¯t going to fix anything. It¡¯s just going to make them worse. Especially prisons around here.


    ¡ª> WontHave


    Replied on April 22, 2020


    I¡¯m sure glad you clarified that, because yeah, people like Pencil and Cup don¡¯t deserve any more chances. Not after all the damage they¡¯ve done and lives they¡¯ve destroyed. They need to throw people like that in a hole and never open it again.


    But to stay on the La Casa topic, let¡¯s get the name game going again. Remember, write ¡®Name Gamble¡¯ at the top of your post and highlight it in red so it¡¯s easy to find. Then list what you think the next La Casa name is gonna be. They all have something to do with gambling/casinos/that sort of thing. You get up to three choices before the next La Casa Touched shows up, and everyone who guesses correct (or close enough by our panel of judges¡¯ determination) wins (or splits if multiple people guess correctly) a one year premium membership here on Sphere and an assortment of candy and other treats shipped from the online store here.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 22, 23, 24


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    <> Topic ¡ª Paintball  (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Individual Touched Discussion)


    Berryonalake (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on March 9, 2020:


    There¡¯s been a few different sightings of him now, so here¡¯s an official thread for the newest Touched in Detroit. As soon as there¡¯s a known name for him, the title will be fixed (edit: there we go, apparently it¡¯s Paintball). But for now, feel free to discuss him, his powers, what he gets up to, whether he¡¯s going to join a team, whatever. Just keep things civilized and remember this is an obviously underaged Touched we¡¯re talking about. I already had to banhammer three different people in the That-A-Way thread between last night and this morning.


    (Showing page 87 of 90, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> EnemyOfTheGoose


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    Wait, wait, go back. When did we find out what that pink paint did??? Are people just making something up and running with it or¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m missing a joke or something. What¡¯s this about bending things? Did Paintball turn into Aang?!


    ¡ª> LivelyAnteater


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    Not that kind of bending EnemyOfTheGoose. And it happened yesterday, at that bank robbery. Some people saw Paintball use pink paint to make a piece of a car bendable so he could wrap it around the bad guys. From that and what some of the cops and paramedics said when they showed up, it looks like the pink paint makes objects malleable or something. Or more like taffy. It stretches and bends.


    ¡ª> SPB Disciple


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    It¡¯s more than that. I saw a video somewhere, have to try to find it now, that showed Paintball use the pink paint to get around. He sprays something and then bounces off it like it¡¯s a trampoline. Or bends it back and then makes it snap forward. The video showed him do it to a telephone pole. It bent over completely in half, then snapped upright and sent him flying. Then the pole was just fine.


    Edit: Found it! There¡¯s the video I was talking about.


    ¡ª> MostAmazingFinalGuiderOfCults


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    Holy crap! How does that work?! I mean, the other stuff is all pretty basic. Cool and useful, but simple. Easy to understand. But the pink stuff makes things bend and snap and then go right back to normal? What the heck??? What are the limits of it? How far can it bend things? Do they always snap right back to what they were? Can he use it on people, or just objects? Could he maim someone with it? Did Paintball jump up a bunch of places on the most dangerous Detroit Touched list? I mean, if he could spray someone and then pull their arms out, or take their head off¡­ I¡¯m not saying he should, but could he? Cuz that whole thing has some pretty huge implications.


    ¡ª> ButcherOfBujold


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    We don¡¯t know exactly how it works yet. Paintball hasn¡¯t exactly sat down and explained it. Actually, I¡¯m pretty sure he only started figuring out how to use it himself pretty recently. Otherwise, he probably would have used it before, like when Cu¨¦lebre was chasing him. Give him some time and he¡¯ll figure out how to do more tricks with it. But just to put it up front, I really doubt he could kill someone with it like that. It just doesn¡¯t seem like it would work that way. I could be wrong, but I¡¯m just saying, it seems pretty unlikely that he could just spray someone with pink paint and permanently maim them. And even if he could, he¡¯s like twelve. I don¡¯t think he would do something like that. Not to mention the personality we¡¯ve seen doesn¡¯t fit.


    ¡ª> CultureClubber


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    He could change a lot though, he¡¯s still a tiny little kid. Maybe when he gets older, he¡¯ll be vicious. He could even join one of the Fell teams. Like you said, he¡¯s twelve. That¡¯s practically a baby. A lot can change between now and whenever he grows up. Wait til he gets a little more experience under his belt. Or at least gets out of 7th grade. In another year, he might totally switch sides.


    ¡ª> RobertR


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    Guys, guys you¡¯re all missing the most important part here. Paintball was working with his dad! He was at the bank with Lucent (and Carousel). Obviously his Dad was testing him to see if he¡¯s ready to join the Seraphs! That¡¯s where he¡¯ll go if he joins any team at all. No way would Lucent let his son be a bad guy. He raised the boy better than that!


    ¡ª>  OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    Hey, I don¡¯t know, Lucent is obviously a really good dad. But doesn¡¯t that mean letting his son make his own mistakes? He¡¯d definitely try to guide him the right way and all, but he¡¯s not going to control his life. Hell, That¡¯s probably why they¡¯re having him act on his own like this, so he can make a name for himself out of his dad¡¯s shadow. And, you know, make his own decisions, become his own person. That must be why they¡¯re hiding the beak too.


    If Paintball goes bad, Lucent will guide him back to the right side. He won¡¯t give up on him, no matter how evil the boy turns.


    ¡ª>  FullBass


    Replied on April 20, 2020


    Bird dad best dad! Father-son bonding time. Wait, how did this topic turn to Paintball being evil????


    ¡ª> MagicalMagellan (You)


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    FullBass ¨C Internet (?)


    CultureClubber ¨C  I¡¯m pretty sure Paintball isn¡¯t going to change that much when he gets older. I bet you anything that he¡¯ll be the same person when he¡¯s sixteen as he is right now. He just seems like the type. Look how much fun he has playing for the crowd. He signs autographs and all that. You can¡¯t do that as much if you¡¯re a Fell. I mean, you could try, but you¡¯d get caught pretty quick. And it¡¯s not as fun if a bunch of sirens keep going off every time you try to entertain people.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 86, 87, 88, 89, 90


    [][][][][][]


    <> Topic ¡ª Multiple Shootings (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    Hermetican Beer (Original Poster)


    Posted on April 20


    Okay, I¡¯ve been given permission from the mods to make the post for this. There have been at least three confirmed drive-by shootings here in Detroit in the past thirty minutes. The authorities believe all the shootings are from the same guy, but they aren¡¯t releasing a name yet. Please, if you are anywhere in Detroit, especially anywhere within a mile of Mack Avenue and Helen Street, stay inside and away from the windows until this is taken care of. Authorities are already responding, but there are multiple scenes to deal with and the shooter is still at large. The Baptist church there on the corner is taking in anyone who needs shelter, as is the nursing home just a couple blocks down Grand Boulevard. Again, stay down until the all-clear signal is given. This post will be updated at that time.


    Edit: Police have given the official all-clear signal as of 1:00 am. The shootings appear to have stopped. They do not have a suspect in custody, but believe he is no longer an imminent threat. According to the news reports here, his name is Luciano Munoz, the leader of a minor gang. His motives are unclear, but seem to be money-related. That news report includes a picture of him. If you see the man, do not try to confront him. Alert the authorities immediately.


    (Showing page 9 of 10, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> Asian14


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    I don¡¯t live in that area now, but I used to. I know the apartments where that one guy got shot, used to ride by them on my bike all the time. It¡¯s kind of a shitty neighborhood. Nothing wrong with the people who live there. Well, most of them anyway. Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s the sort of place where if you hear gunshots, nobody¡¯s that surprised. People just mind their own business over there.


    ¡ª> GearK


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    So, let me get this straight. He just killed several people in multiple shootings and got away? How does that happen? He didn¡¯t have any powers or anything, right? How does a guy like that just up and vanish when basically the entire city is looking for him? There has to be more to this. Maybe he had help or something. People can¡¯t just GTA their way through a city and then bounce without getting caught. The whole internet knows what this guy looks like, and there¡¯s no sign of him? I don¡¯t buy it. And why would the authorities give the all clear if they hadn¡¯t caught him yet? This whole situation stinks like my brother¡¯s gym bag at the end of the school year.


    ¡ª> Dehny


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    He could be holed up somewhere. It probably isn¡¯t that hard to hide if you just get in an apartment and stay in it. People didn¡¯t really know to start looking for him until this morning when they woke up. Remember, not everyone is online overnight. People have jobs. They go to sleep. If he got out of the initial search area and went to ground, he could stay out of sight for a long time. Hell, with food and grocery delivery services and the option to leave it at the door so he doesn¡¯t have to see them, he could stay out of sight for weeks or longer. I think the biggest chance of finding him would be if one of his friends rats him out.


    Needless to say, I¡¯m rooting for the rats.


    ¡ª> GujaratiSugar


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    What about what people were saying about Paintball and that masked guy fighting with those gangbangers over by the Tipsy Beaver? That was right in the same general area and everyone knows it¡¯s full of nasty types. You don¡¯t go over there unless you¡¯re either connected or you¡¯ve got a death wish. Pretty sure that Luciano guy hangs out there too. That¡¯s what somebody on the Forum Which Must Not Be Named was saying.


    ¡ª> MercurialGumball


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Does anyone have the updated list of how many people were hurt or killed last night? That¡¯s probably something that should be added to the top post. And speaking of things that should be added, several people have started charity drives for the victims. There was a list of some of them here. Just make sure you give to a reputable site. Lots of greedy fucks come out of the woodwork and try to take advantage of stuff like this. If you¡¯re gonna donate, make sure it¡¯s to one of the official sites, and that the charity has one of those little checkmarks next to it. That means the site has confirmed the charity owner is legit and has some connection to the victims.


    ¡ª>  Marconi¡¯s S


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Isn¡¯t this what the Fund is supposed to be for? They charge buttloads for all that Star-Touched merch. I thought that and the taxes were supposed to pay for people¡¯s bills when shit like this happens. What happened to that?


    ¡ª> Cthuwood


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Technically this doesn¡¯t follow under the Fund. Because even if some Touched end up getting involved in trying to find him, the dude isn¡¯t Touched himself. He didn¡¯t use any Tech-Touched stuff either. So by the way that law is written, they can¡¯t really pull money from it for this. As far as the law is concerned, this is just ordinary crime. Sucks, but they can¡¯t just decide to move money around like that willy nilly. And there¡¯s nothing the local people can do about it. That stuff is written in international law. It¡¯s a pretty huge deal. If they tried to appropriate it for this, they¡¯d set off a lot of problems.


    Oh and that list of victims you were asking for Mercurial should be here. As far as I know, that¡¯s the most up-to-date one.


    ¡ª> MercurialGumball


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Yeah, I know why they can¡¯t use it. Trust me, I looked it up before I posted. That¡¯s why I really think people needed to donate if they can. These people are going through the worst time of their lives, and we don¡¯t need to add to it by making them sell their souls trying to pay for the funerals and medical costs.


    ¡ª> Threeb4


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    Thanks for the list, I¡¯m definitely jumping on that. I moved away from Detroit about a year and a half ago, but I know that area. Like Asian14 said, it¡¯s pretty rough. Those people don¡¯t have the cash to spare for an extra large popcorn at the movies, let alone a funeral. This whole thing is so fucked up. Still can¡¯t believe that piece of shit got away. Hope they find him and nail his ass to the wall.


    ¡ª> Spaghetti Citizen


    Replied on April 21, 2020


    In addition to the list that¡¯s already been shared, everyone should be aware that you can go straight to local hospitals and donate directly to funds there. All you have to do is tell them you want the money to go to victims of the shootings and they¡¯ll add it into the general fund that gets divided up as much as it¡¯s needed.


    Anyway, as everyone else has said, this whole thing is totally fucked up and I hope someone grabs this guy. I can¡¯t imagine him getting very far though. Everyone knows what he looks like now.


    But seriously, how does a guy without any Touched powers or help completely disappear without anyone knowing where he is after pulling something like that? Yeah, yeah, he could just hole up in an apartment or whatever. But still. He¡¯s got the everybody after him and nobody knows where the hell he is? I swear there¡¯s gotta be something else going on. #paranoid


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 8, 9, 10


    [][][][][][]


    <> Private Messages From DancingInIt


    DancingInIt: Cass went for a walk last night.


    MagicalMagellan: I heard about it from Lizzie. Cass didn¡¯t wake you up?


    DancingInIt: No, wanted to let me sleep. Pillow talk?


    MagicalMagellan: Don¡¯t YOU start about that. You¡¯re too young. She has my number for emergencies. :sigh: She uses it for more than emergencies.


    DancingInIt: I mean we all knew she had your number. ;)  Srsly what¡¯s going on with the employees?


    MagicalMagellan: Not sure yet. Cassie¡¯s folks get home today, don¡¯t they?


    DancingInIt: Yeah, later. She wants to meet for breakfast this morning b4 school. You game?


    MagicalMagellan: Same park as before? I¡¯ll head over there.


    DancingInIt: :waves:

 Kith And Kin 20-05

    By the time I was done with the cops and Pack, there was a message on my phone saying that Murphy and Roald were going to go back to the hospital. People were looking for them anyway, so that was a whole situation they were going to have to deal with. I told them to let me know what was going on and if they needed anything. Not that I would have known how to help, most likely, but still. I just wanted Murphy to know that I¡¯d try if she¨Cif there was¨Cugh.


    Yeah, I had nothing. The one thing I could do, help find that bastard, wasn¡¯t going to happen right now. No matter how badly I wanted it to. And everything else within Murphy¡¯s personal life was¡­ out of my depth. I had no idea how to help her with any of that. But at least she had Roald, and I was pretty sure she was going to be staying with him and his family. At least, I hoped she was. The thought of her sitting at home alone with¨Cno, that wouldn¡¯t happen. She was a minor. They¡¯d want her to stay with an adult. And Roald¡¯s older sister probably fit that, if she was able to take care of him and their younger sister. Well, for a given definition of ¡®take care of,¡¯ given what they¡¯d been doing when we first met.


    But hey, they had money now. I had made sure of that. So they would have food. Somehow, I comforted myself a little bit with that. And then immediately felt so guilty I wanted to scream. Was I patting myself on the back because I gave them money for food, after Murphy¡¯s fucking brother just died? What¨Cwhy was¨CI couldn¡¯t¡­ think. Every impulse I had was wrong, every thought that popped into my head immediately made me feel sick, like there was something wrong with me. How was I supposed to help Murphy? What was I supposed to do?


    Home. In the end, that was the only choice. I had to go home. Tomorr¨Clater today was still going to be really big, considering my parents were officially arriving. Which would mean looking my brother in the eyes and pretending I knew nothing about what he had been doing, pretending I didn¡¯t know that he helped a murderer escape. Hell, I was going to have to pretend I hadn¡¯t just been in an actual physical fight with him.


    I was tired. Just the thought of sitting at home and playing nice, pretending to be clueless, was exhausting. Hard as it was to even think about, I was going to have to go home and sleep.


    So, that¡¯s what I did. I made it home and checked on Izzy, only to find that she was still in bed. She¡¯d slept through the whole thing, which was simultaneously completely understandable and yet also bewildering. I honestly had not been out that long, no matter what it felt like. So, I made my way back to my own bed, fell into it, and was asleep again within seconds. Seriously, it was almost immediate. I thought that I would toss and turn for hours, but it was like someone flipped a switch. My head hit the pillow, and I was completely out. The next thing I knew, several hours had passed and my alarm for school was going off.


    Blearily, I reached out and swatted at the thing a couple times before finding my phone to stop the sound. Then I rolled over and sat up, just in time to hear a quick knock at the door before the house computer informed me that it was Izzy. I told her to come in, and she quickly burst through before shutting the door behind her. In a rush, she blurted, ¡°You went out last night?¡± Accompanying her words was her phone, which she held up in front of me to show me a thread on the SPHERE forums about Paintball being involved in a fight. ¡°Was it¨Cdid it have anything to do with those shootings?¡±


    After a brief hesitation, I nodded. ¡°Sorry, there were all these messages on my phone from Roald, about this whole thing with¡­ with Murphy. Her¡­ her brother died and it was¨C¡± Swallowing hard, aware she would see the way I flinched, I pushed on. ¡°It was bad. But I didn¡¯t want to wake you up and I didn¡¯t know it was going to turn into¡­ sorry. I need to talk about it, but not here. Later. Maybe with Amber. I¨Cyeah. I need to talk to you and Amber about some stuff. Can you see if she¡¯s busy? I¡­ need to take a shower.¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Izzy¡¯s voice was pensive as she stared at me.


    I nodded quickly. ¡°I¡¯m not hurt or anything. I just¨CI can¡¯t talk about it right here. I just¡­ can¡¯t.¡± I couldn¡¯t bring myself to get into that whole discussion in this house. The thought of it made my stomach clench and roll over.


    In the bathroom,  I checked my Touched phone. There are a couple messages from the others. Pack let me know that she was going to call in that favor from Blackjack to keep an eye out for Luciano or anyone associated with him. Then there was a message from Peyton to say that she got Murphy and Roald back to the hospital, and was going home as soon as she saw them leave together with Roald¡¯s sisters. And finally, there was a message from Roald himself, telling me that they had made it home and Murphy was sleeping in his little sister¡¯s room with her. He also asked me to let Wren know that they wouldn¡¯t be there that afternoon.


    Right, yeah, that was another conversation I was going to have to have. I had to tell Wren just why her brand new employees were going to need a little time off. I was pretty sure the story was going to upset her as much as it did me. She really liked them. This was just¡­ unfair. Yes, it was childish to think about it that way, but damn it, it really was unfair! Murphy¡¯s brother deserved to be alive. She deserved to have him back. Luciano deserved to be in prison. This whole situation was fucked up and wrong and my family helped make it happen.


    Needless to say, I went through the shower very quickly. Izzy did the same, before the two of us made our way downstairs and let the kitchen know we didn¡¯t need anything. I didn¡¯t need to say anything to Jefferson, because he was officially focused on doing things for my parents that morning. We were supposed to take a car service anyway. So that was what we did. We just took it a little bit early, heading out to pick up some breakfast before going to the park. The same park where we had met Amber before. And, conveniently, where we would be meeting her again. Izzy had sent a message to the older girl and asked to meet her there while I was in the shower. So at least that was one less time I would have to tell this story.


    She was there waiting for us when we arrived, and I passed a breakfast sandwich to her before plopping myself down on the picnic table, with my feet on the bench. A long, heavy sigh escaped me. The other two stood there and watched silently, giving me a moment to collect myself. Finally, I started to tell them what happened the night before. Without looking up except for once or twice, I went through the whole story, from the moment I woke up to find all the messages on my phone, all the way to falling asleep again after getting home. Getting to the part about Simon helping that piece of shit escape was one of the only times I actually glanced up, only to find their expressions basically unreadable. My gaze found the grass once more as I went on.


    ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s all of it,¡± I finished after swallowing the hard lump in my throat once it was done. ¡°Now they know¡­ more of the truth. They know about the Ministry, and they¡¯re going to help break into that base so we can find out where they sent Luciano.¡± My gaze rose once more to look at both of them intently for the first time, as I continued. ¡°We¡¯re going to track him down. Wherever they sent him, we¡¯re going to find him and drag him back. He belongs in prison.¡±


    With a nod, Amber pushed her way to her feet and put both hands against the side of her head. ¡°God damn it, that poor girl. That poor¨Cgod damn it.¡± She gave me a look then, frowning. ¡°Just how much fucking money did that guy give your parents to make them give him a pass on killing several people? I mean, don¡¯t they have enough already? I kind of doubt some nobody lowlife drug dealer could pull together the sort of funds to even pay your family¡¯s gardening bills for a week.¡± With a long, heavy sigh, she waved both hands. ¡°I mean, sorry, I just¨C¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fair,¡± I replied flatly. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Seriously, I have no idea. It might just be part of maintaining their, you know, reputation or whatever. If it gets out that this guy paid his taxes and they still left him high and dry, it could wreck the whole system.¡± Realizing how that could be taken, I quickly added, ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m not defending it or anything. I¡¯m just saying, that could be an explanation for why they¡¯d go to bat for him even when his payments don¡¯t really amount to that much in the long run. If they start picking and choosing whose payments actually buy them what they¡¯re paying for, the whole system can fall apart. I mean, I want the system to¨C¡± My eyes closed and I shook my head. ¡°You know what I mean.¡± It was really hard to talk about this from my parents¡¯ point of view without sounding like I was agreeing with them.


    Izzy, who had been sitting on the bench, rose to her feet and looked over toward the nearby road while speaking thoughtfully. ¡°You¡¯re right, that¡¯s how they would see it, probably.¡± She folded her arms against her stomach, looking distinctly uncomfortable. ¡°They¡¯re probably not looking at it the same way we do. Not even close. They don¡¯t know any of the people he shot. They don¡¯t¡­ it¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s just numbers for them, you know? It doesn¡¯t affect them. Not really.¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it better,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Actually, it makes it worse.¡± Pushing down the rolling nausea in my stomach, I made myself continue. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s not exactly a top priority client for them. So, they probably won¡¯t go completely nuclear if something happens to him. Actually, they¡¯ll probably be more upset about their base being broken into than they are about someone bringing him in. But even so¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll probably make the connection,¡± Amber finished for me. ¡°The whole point is we don¡¯t want them to know that any of us were involved in that break-in. And if his files get stolen just before, say, Paintball finds and arrests him¡­¡±


    ¡°It could raise a red flag or two,¡± I agreed dryly. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure they could put that together. So even when we take him down, we¡¯re going to have to be careful about how it happens. Maybe we can do it anonymously or something. And as a part of a whole group of takedowns. You know, get as many files as we can and use them to bring in other people they¡¯ve helped escape.¡±


    A very slight, somewhat predatory smile crossed Amber¡¯s face. ¡°Now that¡¯s something I could get behind. Grab all the files we can and hit people who think they¡¯re safe and sound. Make this Luciano guy just somewhere in the middle of the list so he doesn¡¯t really stand out.¡± Her head bobbed quickly. ¡°Yeah, that could work, if we do it right. Like you said, we¡¯d have to be anonymous. No flashy power use or anything. Has to look like other people hitting them.¡±


    Agreeing with that, I added, ¡°It will actually probably be easier to do that with more of us. We just have to be careful to hit hard and fast before getting out of there. We can¡¯t get into some prolonged thing, or it¡¯ll come down to either getting caught or exposing our powers. Which would kind of mess up our ability to pose as other people.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s focus on getting the tunnel made first,¡± Amber murmured thoughtfully. ¡°Once we¡¯re close to getting in, we can plan out exactly how we¡¯re going to do it.¡± She gave me a brief glance. ¡°You trust your new friends to help pull that off?¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re definitely not connected to the Ministry at all, that¡¯s for sure. And they¡¯ve got reason to want to stop them. They¡¯re with us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s not what I mean,¡± the other girl pointed out. ¡°Do you trust them to help without rushing off on their own and getting hurt? They¡¯re not exactly super-experienced.¡±


    ¡°Hobbes did okay while it was the two of us,¡± I noted. ¡°I mean, yeah, she was pretty motivated, but still. It looked like she could help even more.¡±


    Izzy spoke up then. ¡°It¡¯s umm, gonna take some time to make that tunnel. You know, if umm, if we¡¯re going to do it without attracting attention. Even with help. We could probably use that time for practice.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°For everyone, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I confirmed, ¡°We¡¯ll practice as much as we can. I¡¯ll put paint on the inside of our clothes and everyone can work on some drills. We need to hit the guys in that place hard, fast, put them down, grab what we need, and get out. I¡¯ll do multiple sections of paint, and we can have like¡­ a timer or something beep in my ear whenever I need to activate each section. But I¡¯m pretty sure we still need to be in and out within sixty seconds. That¡¯s six sections of paint boosts. If I do them all ahead of time, it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Sixty seconds,¡± Amber agreed. ¡°That should be too fast for your family to get the call and react. We get what we need and get out. We escape through the tunnel and leave them with no idea who any of us are. Maybe we should have a quick way to fill in the tunnel so they can¡¯t follow that easily?¡±


    Thinking about that, I gave a slow nod. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll come up with something. Fill it with water or something. Maybe not water, that¡¯s too close to Raindrop.¡± I added that bit with a gesture toward Izzy. ¡°We don¡¯t want them thinking about her at all.¡±


    ¡°Which means I can¡¯t be there,¡± she pointed out. ¡°I mean, look at me. It¡¯s gonna be hard enough pretending you aren¡¯t Paintball. Me? How are they gonna believe someone this small is some big commando thief? Even in black with a mask, I¡¯d stand out.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll all stand out,¡± Amber replied pointedly. ¡°But yeah, maybe it¡¯s best if you work behind the scenes. Cover our backs, work on sealing the tunnel behind us, something.¡±


    Coughing, I gestured to my phone for the time. ¡°We¡¯ll work on it. But we should probably get to school. Last thing we want is my parents paying more attention, and they might just do that if they hear about either of us missing classes.¡±


    A bit more quietly, I added, ¡°Besides, I should probably talk to Tomas about going over to his house at some point, so I can check for anything about that sex-shifter you saw.


    ¡°Cuz God knows, I¡¯m super-excited about that.¡±


    ******


    Somehow, I made it through the school day. It wasn¡¯t exactly easy. The whole thing seemed to drag on forever, as though every class took up as much time as the entire day should have. Periodically, I received text updates from Roald, letting me know what was happening on their end. They hadn¡¯t gone to school, of course. They were dealing with the fallout of that whole situation. Apparently Tyson¡¯s funeral was going to happen Saturday. A lot of the details were being taken care of by Roald¡¯s sister, with assistance from a helpful cop who had shown up to investigate the drive-by. Not that there were going to be many people there. Unsurprisingly, Murphy didn¡¯t have a lot of friends or family that would show up. It was basically just a small thing with her and Roald¡¯s family. Which was¡­ completely awful, to be honest. I hadn¡¯t known the guy at all, and obviously he¡¯d had problems, but he deserved to be remembered and mourned. Murphy deserved to have her brother¡¯s life matter to people.


    But no, they would have an almost empty funeral and then he would be put in the ground. Apparently they were setting up a donation thing to pay for all that. My first instinct was to throw a bunch of money at it myself. But I would need to be more careful than that. If I just handed them over a bunch of cash without any explanation, it might look a bit suspicious. Even more than my funds already were. Maybe I could anonymously donate? Or make it¡­ I¡¯d figure it out. I would make sure the guy got a decent burial. It was pretty much the least I could do. Especially considering I had failed, thus far, to bring his killer to justice.


    Bring his killer to justice. How stupid did that sound? How naive? Even the thought made me grimace to myself while standing in front of my locker at the end of the day. And yet, that was exactly what I wanted to do. Luciano belonged in prison.  And I was going to make sure he ended up there. No matter how many wheelbarrows of cash he had given my parents.


    ¡°There she is.¡± Startled out of my thoughts by Tomas¡¯s voice, I turned to see the boy approaching before he leaned against the nearby locker. ¡°You said you wanted to talk about something?¡±


    Right. I¡¯d mentioned that in passing between classes. Now it was time to actually get into it. Forcing a casual smile, I replied, ¡°Oh, you know, I was just thinking I should come over sometime so you could show me that song you¡¯ve been working on.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, he asked, ¡°How¡¯d you know I¡¯ve been working on a song?¡±


    The question made me snort and wave my hand in a vague gesture. ¡°When are you not working on a song, dude? It¡¯s just been a long time since I got to hear you practice.¡± Slyly, I added, ¡°And, you know, if your mom happens to be there and is anywhere near the kitchen¡­¡±


    ¡°Ohhh,¡± he drawled, ¡°I see how it is. Play to my musician ego to get your foot in the door just so you can see if Mum¡¯s got any pies done.¡±


    Allowing a guilty flush to cross my face (it wasn¡¯t hard), I coughed. ¡°What can I say, she makes really good pies. Are you really sure she does it all by herself?¡±


    ¡°Cross my heart and hope to die,¡± he replied while holding up his hand in a scout¡¯s honor sign. ¡°I¡¯ve watched her in the kitchen. Still can¡¯t do it like she does, but she definitely fixes them all by herself, from scratch. Not a frozen pie or restaurant delivery in sight. You trust me, right?¡±


    Oh boy. Forcing myself to continue meeting his gaze without flinching or looking away, I shrugged. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re a boy, so I trust you about that far.¡±


    ¡°Ouch, my wounded soul.¡± Making a show of staggering backward while clutching his heart, Tomas winked. ¡°Maybe I can pry some more trust out of you by getting pie into your face. You wanna come over today?¡±


    ¡°Just my mouth is good enough, not the whole face,¡± I retorted. ¡°And today¡¯s not good. My family just got back from being out of town and all.¡± I was watching his face to see if he gave anything away. If he even knew anything. ¡°So they¡¯ll want me to be around.¡±


    With a shrug, Tomas replied, ¡°Oh right, yeah, they were gone, huh? Any idea what they were doing?¡±


    ¡°Business stuff,¡± I answered flatly, trying to pretend I didn¡¯t care at all. ¡°Or something. I dunno. Anyway, the point is they¡¯ll be back. Maybe tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, kinda got a date tomorrow.¡± As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Tomas looked uncomfortable. ¡°I mean¡­ sorry. It¡¯s just this¡­ guy from an ice cream shop. We started talking and¨Cyeah. We¡¯re just hanging out and¡­ boy, this got weird all of a sudden.¡±


    Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I shook my head. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s cool. We¡¯ll plan something later. I umm, have fun. On your date, I mean. When it happens. I just¨CI uhh, I¡¯ve gotta go.¡± Grabbing my bag, I shut the locker and started to head out.


    Fuck, damn it, why was I so stupid? Why did hearing about Tomas having a date make me feel queasy inside? I didn¡¯t still feel that way about him. Hell, there was still a chance that our entire relationship had been a trick of some kind. I couldn¡¯t¨CI couldn¡¯t think about that. I had far more important things to focus on.


    Those ¡®more important things¡¯ came into clear focus as I left the school and looked to where Jefferson would be. Only he wasn¡¯t there. Instead, Royal Thunder was parked in that spot, with my dad waiting in the driver¡¯s seat and waving to me.


    Oh boy. Time to shove down all my emotions, pretend to be a completely clueless happy little daughter just running to meet the dad she¡¯s been missing, and give literally nothing away about what I was actually thinking.


    If nothing else, maybe I should put in for some extra credit from the drama department.

 Kith And Kin 20-06

    ¡°There¡¯s my baby girl.¡± With a broad smile as I approached, my father opened his arms before yanking me up into them once I got close enough. He lifted me clear off the ground and hugged me tight. ¡°Now, who said you were allowed to grow so much while we were gone?¡± he demanded. ¡°I thought I made it clear that you¡¯re supposed to stay exactly the same while I can¡¯t see you.¡±


    God, some part of me really wished that it was easier to only be disgusted by what my father was really like. It would have made this whole situation less agonizing, if I could stick to just seeing him as the leader of a criminal organization, who hurt and killed people.


    But that was the whole problem. He wasn¡¯t just that. He was my father too. And beyond that, the Ministry had done some good things. It was all so complicated, the whole thing. He was my father and I loved him, just like I loved my brother and my mom. But they were all criminals. They all did bad things, along with some good. They were¡­ it was¡­ complicated. So complicated. Seeing him right now, being embraced by him, just made all those conflicted feelings come rushing back into me even more than ever. Especially after that whole thing with them helping Luciano escape. That was wrong. It was horrible. I had to do something about it. I had to get that piece of shit put in prison where he belonged. And I couldn¡¯t excuse the part that my family had played in helping him escape. And yet¡­ and yet¡­ my father was here. I hadn¡¯t seen him in what felt like forever, even if it hadn¡¯t actually been that long. Despite all the terrible feelings deep in my stomach, I found myself returning the embrace tightly. Which only made me feel even more conflicted about the whole thing.


    Finally, I found my voice while making my head shake. ¡°I didn¡¯t grow at all! It¡¯s only been a couple weeks, you know.¡± Belatedly, I added in a mutter under my breath, ¡°Besides, you could have left for five years and I wouldn¡¯t have grown at all.¡±


    ¡°Couple weeks?¡± Dad gasped as though completely confused by that. ¡°I tell you, it felt like that five years.¡± With a smile, he set me down and ran his hand through my uneven hair. ¡°Ever decide if you want that to be long or short?¡± he teased, tugging a bit at the longer side.


    ¡°More fun to be both,¡± I retorted, poking him in the stomach. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were going to be here. Let me guess, you drove Jefferson over the edge and he quit to go work for Uber.¡±


    With a snort at that absurd thought, my father shook his head and turned to open the front passenger side of Royal Thunder. ¡°Actually, I thought we could get some practice in. You¡¯ve got your training license, right?¡± As he said that, Dad stepped down in the passenger side of the car, leaving¡­ leaving the¡­ the¡­driver¡­ side¡­


    As that realization slowly filled my head, I gaped, eyes widening. ¡°Wha¨Cyou, you mean it?¡±


    Chuckling with amusement as my reaction, Dad gestured. ¡°Come on then, get in before I change my mind. Let¡¯s see what you can do.¡± Abruptly, he grimaced before quickly amending, ¡°And by that, I mean let¡¯s see how many rules of the road you can follow while being extremely careful. Speed limits are fine things, but let¡¯s pretend it¡¯s like five miles per hour lower. Or ten. Ten is good too. Hey, parking lots are fun, how about we do circles around one of those?¡±


    ¡°Too late!¡± I chirped, dashing around the front of the car to jump in the driver¡¯s side. Once there, I found that my father had already arranged the seat to be higher and more forward, specifically ready for me to use. The pedals had also been extended a bit forward so I could reach them more easily. Finding all that, I turned a bit to stare at my dad.


    He, in turn, winked. ¡°Well? You¡¯ve been going on about wanting to drive for so long. Let¡¯s see what you can do. I need to figure out if I can put you to work once you get that real license.¡±


    Despite myself, despite everything, I leaned over and gave him a side-hug. Then I started the car, checked everything over, and pulled away from the curb after making sure the road was clear. I didn¡¯t peel out or anything, tempting as it was with the power of the machine I was controlling. I kept myself under control and brought it up to just under the speed limit as we cruised out to the regular street to join up with traffic.


    Dad watched me the whole time, his head shaking with disbelief. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯ll be seventeen in under a year.¡± His voice was a thoughtful murmur. ¡°You were only nine a couple years ago, weren¡¯t you? Where¡¯d the time go?¡±


    Snorting, I carefully took a right turn at the light. ¡°Yeah, and a couple years ago, you were only thirty.¡±


    Making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, Dad retorted, ¡°Just how old do you think I am, kid?¡±


    Pretending to think about that for a few seconds while drumming my fingers along the steering wheel, I offered, ¡°I dunno, fifty-seven?¡±


    ¡°Fifty-se¨C¡± That strangled sound was back as my father choked, giving me a look. ¡°Okay, you know what, maybe you can wait another ten years before driving.¡±


    A laugh escaped me. Which just made the whole situation worse. God, it was so easy to fall into this routine, so incredibly easy to forget the truth, even for just a few minutes. Yet in the back of my head, I couldn¡¯t completely stop thinking about what Murphy and Roald were doing right now, and how their lack of justice was in large part the fault of my family.


    Clearly noticing the way my expression changed, Dad reached out to touch the side of my face while we were waiting at the red light. His voice was concerned. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s wrong? Did something happen? Whatever it is, you know you can talk about it.¡±


    Oh God, if only that was true. For just a split-second, I seriously imagined what would happen if I actually told him everything. How crazy would it be if I just unloaded the whole thing and told my father everything I knew and everything I thought about what they really did? What if I actually told him about how their bullshit allowed the murderer of my friend¡¯s brother to escape? How would he react? Would he be ashamed? Would he offer to fix it? Would he apologize? Or would he just find a way to excuse it? Would he simply erase my memory again? How would he really react? I was so tempted, in that brief moment, to actually go through with it and see what happened. Maybe it was partially because of just how upset I was about the Murphy situation in general. Or maybe it was because of the actual fight I¡¯d had with Simon the night before. Or because they¡¯d been gone for awhile and this was my first time being close to my dad in a couple weeks. Either way, whatever the reason, the words were right on the tip of my tongue.


    And yet, I suppressed the urge and simply shook my head while looking at him. ¡°I just missed you,¡± I found myself easily lying straight to his face, even as my stomach turned itself into knots. ¡°Did you guys finish your business, or are you leaving again?¡± There, it was easy to make it look and sound as though the reaction he had seen was about being upset that they had been gone. Manipulative, yes. But I had to give him some legitimate explanation for the look he had seen, so he didn¡¯t wonder about it too much. Because the last thing I needed was my father to spend too much time wondering about what I was doing and why I might be upset about something.


    Thankfully, it seemed to work. Dad gave a low sigh and reached over to brush my hair fondly. ¡°We¡¯re back for awhile now, I promise. Pretty sure your mom will kill me if we have any more business interruptions anytime soon.¡±


    Again, I was tempted to say several things to that. Thankfully, the light turning green distracted me, and I was able to shove those impulses down along with pushing my foot against the accelerator. As the car pulled away, I found my voice. ¡°Maybe she¡¯d just maim you a little bit.¡±


    Dad, in turn, chuckled once more. ¡°Oh sure, maiming sounds better.¡± Shaking his head, he focused on giving me driving advice for the next thirty minutes or so, telling me where to turn and asking how I felt about freeway driving, parallel parking, downtown traffic, and more. Through it all, I pushed aside my troubled thoughts about the whole situation and tried to focus on just being there in the moment. But the whole time, a voice in the back of my head wouldn¡¯t stop talking about how I was betraying my friends by not confronting my father about what happened, even though I knew it wouldn¡¯t actually help anything if I did. It would, almost certainly, make everything worse. So, I shoved the impulse down and lost myself in the driving lesson.


    Eventually, we stopped to pick up Izzy, who had stayed after to work on some project. As I brought the car to a halt in front of the school, she approached alongside a boy who looked familiar. He was blond and scrawny, with messy hair and glasses. Where had I¨Coh!


    Yeah, the realization of where I had seen the boy before came to me even as Izzy spoke up. ¡°Uh, is it okay if we give Errol a ride home? His sister¡­ didn¡¯t want to wait.¡±


    Right, his sister. Arleigh Fosters. Somehow, the fact that she refused to wait around to give her little brother a ride home didn¡¯t exactly surprise me. And I was pretty sure Izzy was giving a sanitized, polite version of her likely reaction to being asked.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Dad gestured. ¡°Sure thing, as long as you don¡¯t mind getting a lift from the speed demon over here. Why don¡¯t you guys both hop in the back? How¡¯s it going, Errol? How¡¯s your dad?¡±


    Oh right, Errol¡¯s (and by extension, Arleigh¡¯s) dad was another rich businessman. Specifically, he owned a pretty big stake in that Taurus Touched-Tech shipping company. Not as much as my parents did, but still quite a bit. Enough that my parents did have the occasional meeting with him. Actually, come to think of it, I was pretty sure we had even had Arleigh over to the house once or twice years back. It would have been while I was still in first or second grade, so I barely remembered it, but I was pretty sure she had been there.


    Gee maybe we were best friends too and then my parents erased that.


    While I was thinking about that, Errol gave some light remark about how his dad was fine, then he and Izzy started to talk some more about their project. I tuned them out after a minute and focused on driving. Despite everything I already knew about my family, I bizarrely didn¡¯t want to disappoint my father with my skills. My father killed people and ran a Mafia-like organization to control all crime in the city, and I was worried about him thinking I was a bad driver. How absurd was that?


    Whatever it was, I drove carefully (but not too carefully) back out to the main street before asking Errol to remind me of where he lived. He, in turn, tried to demur by telling me that I could drop him off at a nearby library and he would take the bus.


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Dad objected. ¡°It¡¯ll be just fine, Errol. We¡¯ll drop you off right at your house. Believe me, nobody¡¯s going to try anything.¡±


    Well, that was confusing. Looking over at my father and then to the back seat while we were at a stop sign, I echoed, ¡°Try anything?¡±


    Errol, in turn, sighed and told me where to take him. Only then did I realize why he¡¯d had that reaction. Apparently, he lived smack in the middle of Sherwood territory. Yeah, no wonder he was a bit nervous about bringing strangers into an area controlled by a bunch of psychotic anti-technology Fell-Touched. Hell, I was certainly curious as to how a family like his could continue to live there, given everything. Their entire business revolved around transporting, repairing, and selling super advanced technology. So how could they afford to live in a place that was literally run by a gang that wanted to destroy technology? Did the gang not really know who they were or what they did? Or¡­ or¡­


    ¡°Yo, Earth to Evans Junior.¡± Dad¡¯s hand touched my shoulder, making me snap out of what had apparently been an extended moment of staring off at nothing. ¡°Did you forget you¡¯re the one piloting this craft?¡±


    Flushing a bit, I checked both ways before pulling away from the stop sign. ¡°Right, sorry. One taxi ride home coming right up. We¡¯ll be there in ten minutes.¡±


    ¡°Fifteen minutes,¡± Dad corrected me with a raised eyebrow. ¡°We¡¯ll take the scenic route, no need to get on the freeway with our guest.¡±


    There it was again, the total cognitive disconnect. My father was both one of the biggest superheroes in the entire state, and one of the biggest criminals. And yet, he was worried about me having a fender bender or something while one of his business colleagues¡¯ kids was in the car. Trying to comprehend him in both ways (or rather, all three) was making my brain twist itself into knots. Hell, I wasn¡¯t even sure that thought made any sense at all. It was just words, thoughts about how strange this whole situation was. My dad was a hero, a villain, and my father. He ran a Star-Touched team, helped Fell-Touched do bad things for money, and he was worried about his daughter getting the son of one of his business partners hurt. It was so hard to make all that fit together into one person all at the same time.


    The point was, being around my dad like this was confusing. It made my brain and my stomach hurt. But I pushed all that down and focused on driving. I liked driving. I could lose myself in that for the time being.


    So, that was exactly what I did. For the next fifteen minutes, I focused on driving to the gated community that had once been known as Pinewood Hollow. Now, the graffitied sign at the front had had the Pine part crossed out and had ¡®Sher¡¯ put in front of it. Meanwhile, ¡®Enter, all ye who are¡¯ was written in front of the Hollow part.


    ¡°Dad, objects can turn into Touched, right?¡± I asked, staring that way.


    ¡°Not very often, but I think it''s happened before. Why?¡± Dad replied, sounding curious.


    I pointed to the sign. ¡°Because whoever made that was obviously some kind of giant anime sword, to have all that edge.¡±


    Even as I said that, a bird that was sitting on a rock next to the sign gave a sharp caw before flying away, making me jump a bit before silently cursing myself for it. Right, angry birds, spy-plants, wonderful. It was just so welcoming. I definitely couldn¡¯t see any reason why going in here, let alone living here, was a bad idea.


    Dad¡¯s hand found my shoulder once more, squeezing it. He chuckled at what I¡¯d said, even as he reassured me. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, trust me. We¡¯re not doing anything wrong, just dropping off someone who lives here. You can¡¯t let people like that control everything you do. Don¡¯t be stupid about it, but don¡¯t surrender to them entirely either. They¡¯re not stupid, they¡¯re not going to pick a fight with every car that drives through their territory.¡±


    Some part of me wondered if this was some sort of test somehow. But I shook that off and gave a distracted nod while pulling the car into official Sherwood territory.


    Nothing happened, of course. It wasn¡¯t like simply entering their area was instantly going to make the whole gang descend on us. Though some part of me wondered what my father would do if there was some sort of confrontation. After all, most of the bad guys had no idea who he really was. Either of his identities, come to think of it. How would he react if some of their people got a little ambitious and tried something? The thought made me just curious enough to almost want it to happen. Part of me was morbidly interested in how he would handle something like that without giving away any of his secrets to the three of us.


    But, of course, it was like he¡¯d said. Nothing happened. No one approached us at all as we drove through the subdivision to the large house that Errol had directed me to. The whole place just looked like any other quiet, fairly upscale neighborhood.


    Except, of course, for all the flora. Seriously, there were exotic plants all over the place. The grass was deep green and cut perfectly on each yard, there were bright, colorful flowers and bushes everywhere (some of them clearly tropical or just rare), the trees were larger and fuller than any other place in the city. It was like driving out of Detroit and into a well-maintained rain forest or something. Say what you would about these guys¡¯ methods, but they kept some pretty homes.


    No. They forced everyone else in this place to keep pretty homes. The correction immediately came to mind, while a knot formed in my stomach once more. Everywhere I looked, all these pretty bushes, tall trees, the vines along some of the houses, even those perfectly manicured lawns, were all reminders that the people who lived here were essentially being occupied by a hostile force that made them do all that.


    Okay, granted, there were worse tortures than being forced to have pretty plants in your yard. But still. The plants also served to help spy on these people. They were all basically cameras and microphones.


    That little tidbit stayed in my head while my father walked Errol into the house, with Izzy following after to be polite. Apparently Dad wanted to visit with Errol¡¯s dad for a few minutes, to talk about something that was going on at Taurus.


    Unless, of course, what he really wanted to talk to the man about was Ministry stuff. That would explain how the family could afford to stay here, surrounded by that gang, right? If they actually were connected to the Ministry, the Sherwood people would be told to leave them alone. And it would explain why my father wasn¡¯t worried about being confronted in this place. Not because they knew who he was, but because they knew Errol and his family were off-limits. That made sense. Plus, of course my family would have Ministry-connected people in the high positions at Taurus. It all fit.


    Also, it was possible that part of me just thought that Arleigh having supervillain connections, even if it wasn¡¯t her fault and she didn¡¯t know about it, made sense. Meanwhile, another part of me chastised myself and said that wasn¡¯t fair to the girl. Even if I didn¡¯t really like her.


    Speaking of whom, while lost in those thoughts, I heard Arleigh¡¯s voice call out my name. Quickly, I looked that way to see her approaching from the front door of the house. There was someone else with her, a somewhat lanky guy with light, somewhat curly brown hair that was cut fairly short. He wore jeans and a long, green shirt that was unbuttoned over a black tee with a local band¡¯s name on it.


    ¡°Hey there, Cass!¡± Arleigh cheerfully greeted. Again, like we were best friends. ¡°Cool ride. You get your license after all? Dad pull a few strings?¡± She added that last bit conspiratorially.


    Coughing, I shook my head. ¡°Just having a practice ride with him, that¡¯s all. Hey Arleigh. And umm¡­¡± I looked to the boy.


    ¡°Oh, this is my new college prep tutor.¡± Arleigh gestured back and forth between us. ¡°Cassidy Evans, this is Ryder Towling. Ryder, this is Cassidy Evans.¡±


    Offering me a slightly self-conscious smile, the boy extended a hand as he and Arleigh stood by the driver¡¯s side of the car (it was parked in the driveway). ¡°Cassidy Evans, huh?¡±


    I felt a strange sense of familiarity in that moment, but shook it off and turned to shake his hand. ¡°Yeah, I know, disappointing in the flesh, huh?¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t be silly!¡± That was Arleigh, laughing a bit too much. ¡°The last thing you could be is disappointing. Actually, you should come to this party we¡¯re having Friday night. It¡¯s gonna be at Sonya Deckermire¡¯s lakehouse, and I swear to god, they¡¯re gonna have jet skis.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well, jet skis make that really tempting,¡± I managed to reply. ¡°I¡¯ll see what¡¯s going on.¡± Quickly changing the subject, I looked back to Ryder. ¡°College prep tutor?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really not a big deal,¡± he claimed. ¡°I¡¯m just making sure she¡¯s ready to apply for different schools next year, that she¡¯s got her extracurriculars all worked out, her applications look nice and tidy, that sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°You should let him help you at some point,¡± Arleigh noted. ¡°You know, after he gets me all squared away.¡± That was accompanied by an almost convincing laugh. ¡°You don¡¯t get to steal him until I¡¯m done.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, sure.¡± Ryder dug in his pockets, coming out with a card, which he handed me. It had his name and a phone number on it, along with a note about what he charged for various tutoring services.


    Tucking it away, I thanked him. Again, there seemed to be something familiar there. But before I could focus on it, my father returned with Izzy. He took a moment to talk to Arleigh and her new tutor, before getting in. As Izzy tucked herself alone into the backseat, Dad gestured. ¡°Home, Jeeves. And you better make it snappy. If your mother doesn¡¯t get to see you in the next few minutes, she might just kill all of us.¡±


    All thoughts of Arleigh and her tutor left my head as I pulled the car out of the driveway and began to head for the house. Right, time to see my mother.


    And hey, the good news was that my stomach was getting a lot of exercise today with all those jumping jacks it was doing.

 Kith And Kin 20-07

    The drive out of that place honestly wasn¡¯t that long, though it seemed like forever. I kept having to resist the urge to look around too much. It felt like there were eyes on us constantly. Which, to be fair, there certainly were. The plants were all spies. Which was a really creepy thing to think about whenever I happened to glance at the various bushes and trees. Any of them could have been watching and listening, all the time. To say nothing of the animals, which I was pretty sure were also spies. Yeah, I had no idea how the people in here lived like this, because it was freaking me out just being there for a few minutes.


    Dad, of course, didn¡¯t seem bothered at all. He had turned around in the seat and was asking Izzy what she thought about her new friend. Not enough to seem overly pushy or anything, but he was definitely curious about all that. Izzy, for her part, simply said that he was nice and that he¡¯d done a lot of work on their project. Belatedly, she added that his sister was ¡®intense.¡¯ I had to bite my lip hard to avoid giving a response to that.


    Judging from the quick look that Dad gave me, I hadn¡¯t entirely suppressed the reaction. He chuckled very faintly before giving a short nod. ¡°Yes, I suppose intense is one word for it. And hey, I can tell you this much, from what I saw of that project of yours¡­¡± He whistled low. ¡°That¡¯s A-plus work right there. Really well put together, and with some nice sources. If that school isn¡¯t careful, I might just hire the both of you right now and put you to work as research interns in one of the firms.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t let him make you interns,¡± I put in immediately. ¡°Tell him it¡¯s associate or no deal. Wait, no, tell him executive and then let him negotiate you down to associate.¡±


    ¡°Awww.¡± Dad gave me a proud look. ¡°You have been listening to your old man.¡±


    Forcing the lump away that tried to form in my throat, I offered a shrug. ¡°Yeah, well, sometimes you talk louder than the television and it¡¯s hard to tune you out.¡±


    Dad, in turn, offered me a beaming smile, hand reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s one of my best strategies! Talk too loud for the other person to ignore. You girls should write that down, it¡¯s a good one.¡±


    There were a few things I wanted to say, involving him making offers someone else couldn¡¯t refuse, but I bit my lip and held back. That was a rabbit hole that I really didn¡¯t want to start going down. Instead, I shifted the conversation to asking about how their trip went. Not enough to seem like I was actually fishing for real information or anything, but not asking anything about it at all would also have been suspicious. So I pushed just a little bit, as though I was slightly jealous about being left behind. Or just trying to angle for presents or a different trip sometime.


    Unsurprisingly, my dad didn¡¯t tell me what they were really doing. He just played it off as another boring old business trip and kept changing the subject over to talking about things we had done while they were gone. Of course, we couldn¡¯t tell him most of it, so we were all lying to each other. Though at least, hopefully, only one side actually knew that.


    On Dad¡¯s suggestion, we stopped for some exotic ice cream on the way back. It was a new place that had apparently been getting a lot of good reviews. The guy behind the counter couldn¡¯t have been much older than me, but he sure knew a lot about ice cream. He talked up the different processes of making it (apparently they did their own fresh on-site), and managed to make it interesting. He was a cute guy too, Asian with longish hair that had this thin green streak in it, and amber eyes. His nametag read Maki.


    In any case, he had a lot of good suggestions for flavors to try, and let us sample several. And the reviews were right, this place was great. Maki was funny, charming, and to top everything off, he could juggle. Yeah, he put on a show right there while we were deciding what flavors to get, casually tossing three pints and the ice cream scoop through the air in a circle. I even took a picture of him in the middle of that. With his permission, naturally.


    Finally, we ended up picking out flavors we all wanted, and also got a couple pints for Mom and Simon as well before heading out. On the way, as we went back to the car, I shook my head. ¡°Wow, I haven¡¯t even heard of that place yet. That thing says they only opened a week and a half ago, how¡¯d you know about them already? You were out of town.¡± Even as the words slipped out of my mouth, I was regretting the accidental possible push against their cover story.


    Dad, however, simply replied, ¡°From Kent Jackson, actually. He had a lot to say about the place. Apparently his son¨Coh.¡± In mid-sentence, he abruptly stopped talking.


    ¡°What?¡± Blinking that way, I started to reflexively ask what was wrong. Then I realized. I remembered. Tomas had said that he was going on a date with ¡®a guy who worked at an ice cream shop.¡¯ ¡°That guy back there, Maki. Tomas is dating him.¡±


    Dad was wincing. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sweetie. I completely forgot that was where I heard about this place until you asked. Do you want to take the ice cream back? Or toss it and go get it from somewhere else?¡±


    Swallowing, I shook my head. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s not the ice cream¡¯s fault. And it¡¯s not Maki¡¯s fault either. And it¡¯s not Tomas¡¯s fault. It¡¯s nobody¡¯s¨Cit¡¯s not¨Cit¡¯s fine. We were already broken up. We didn¡¯t¨Cit¡¯s fine. It¡¯s ice cream. Let¡¯s go eat some ice cream.¡± Under my breath, I muttered, ¡°I need it now.¡±


    So, we headed back for the house. And all I could think about the entire way was how differently I would have felt right now if I didn¡¯t know the truth. If I didn¡¯t know what was really going on, I would have a new pseudo-little sister living with me, ice cream, my parents back after a long trip, and I would be driving my dream car. It really would be perfect. Well, aside from the whole ¡®getting that ice cream from my ex-boyfriend¡¯s new boyfriend¡¯ thing, but even that wasn¡¯t horrible. Hell, if that was the worst thing about today, it would¡¯ve been pretty good. A pretty good day. And that was exactly what my father thought he was giving me. Because he had missed me and was trying to do something fun. He was trying to make me happy.


    He was a good dad. A good dad who did some really terrible other things. Even evil things. But that was what made this whole thing so hard. It was what made it so confusing. Well, that and the fact that the Ministry obviously did some actual good things as well. Like Peyton had said, there were positives to them. But there were a hell of a lot of negatives too. Like, for example, everything about last night. Yeah, they let the man who murdered Murphy¡¯s brother (and several others) just get away because he paid them. That was¡­ bad. Really bad.


    It was all so complicated, frustratingly so. But at least I had people who knew enough to help me right now. We were going to build that tunnel and get into the secret base. We would find everything we could about the Ministry¡¯s business and figure out where to go from there. We just¡­ had to be careful about it. And obviously try to make sure that they didn¡¯t realize it was us doing it. That was going to be the real hard part, and something that would take a lot of time and planning.


    But for now, I had to make sure my family didn¡¯t get suspicious about anything. Which meant playing my role as the clueless daughter (and little sister) who didn¡¯t know a damn thing about what was going on. So, as I parked the car in the garage, I put my game face on and gave Dad a sly look. ¡°See how safe that was? In a couple more months, when I get my licence, you won¡¯t have anything to worry about.¡±


    Dad, in turn, snorted. ¡°Yeah, kid, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll always drive exactly the same way you do when I¡¯m literally sitting right next to you. Actually, you should keep that in mind. Whenever you¡¯re out there, assuming that day ever comes, just pretend that I¡¯m sitting right here in this seat. And you know, obviously that means you can¡¯t have anyone else sitting here. I don¡¯t like to share seats.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I made a point of rolling my eyes at him before getting out. Then I tossed him the keys. ¡°Believe it or not, I¡¯m not going to make a habit of pretending my father is sitting in the car with me no matter where I go. And I¡¯m sure as hell not going to tell my friends that they can¡¯t sit in the front seat because my imaginary father has dibs.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Making a show of huffing as though offended, Dad retorted, ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. I¡¯m cool. I¡¯m hip. Your friends would be lucky to have me grace them with my presence on a trip to the juice bar.¡± He winked then, before laughing at my expression. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Izzy?¡±


    She had just gotten out of the car herself, managing a quick, ¡°Sure, juice bar, dads sitting in the front seat of cars, imaginary something or other.¡± She was pretending to be very engrossed in her phone, which made a pretty convenient distraction.


    The three of us grabbed the bags of ice cream pints and headed inside. I had only just made it through the door from the garage into the long hall (it served as a buffer to keep noise and fumes from the cars from getting into any useful rooms) beyond, when my mother seemed to materialize out of nowhere, blurting my name. The next thing I knew, she had pulled me into a tight embrace. It took me a second to stop myself from freezing up, but I managed to return it. God, my mom. I had missed her so much. My dad too. Both of them. Seeing them, hugging them, hearing them, just being with them reminded me how much I loved them despite everything. Soon, I found myself clinging to her even more tightly than I intended. Sure, the revulsion of what happened last night still rolled through my stomach, but I couldn¡¯t help my reaction to actually being around them again after they had been gone.


    ¡°Mom,¡± I managed, my voice cracking just a little bit. Which just made my stomach flip over even more. I almost hated myself at that moment. I thought about what Murphy was going through and quickly released my mother before stepping back. It was all I could do not to turn around and run right back out of the house, through the garage, and just keep going. And boy would that have been fun to try to explain later. Yet, despite knowing just what a bad idea that was, it was still so tempting. And it wasn¡¯t all because of what they had done, or what they helped do. A large part of my sudden rush of revulsion was at my own reaction to them. I missed them so much, seeing my mother like this made me so happy that I immediately felt like I was betraying my friends, like I was betraying Murphy. I was¨Cit was¨Cfuck.


    Mom, however, didn¡¯t know anything about that. I wiped it off my face by the time she smiled down at me, hands on my shoulders. ¡°My dear, sweet Principessa. I¡¯m so happy to be home now. That was far too long to be away.¡±


    Somehow, I managed to stop myself from asking how long it would be if they went to prison for all the stuff they had helped do. Not that I wasn¡¯t tempted. Forcing that thought away as well, I instead asked, ¡°Does this mean that you¡¯re not going away again for a while?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Princess.¡± Smiling fondly, my mother tugged me into another embrace. ¡°I certainly hope not. That was more than enough for me.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± Dad put in, as he and Izzy came through the door. It certainly didn¡¯t take that long for them to cross the last few feet in the garage, so they had obviously stayed back to give me a moment with Mom. Which, of course, had left Izzy alone with my father. I briefly wondered how she felt about that, which just made my stomach clench yet again. God, this whole situation from her point of view was probably just as bad as it was from mine, if not worse.


    Meanwhile, Mom was already stepping over to take Izzy¡¯s hands, squeezing them with a fond smile before pulling the girl into an embrace too. Her voice was a gentle murmur. ¡°Izzy, my dear, I missed you as well. I hope the staff treated you properly. How are you?¡±


    Looking slightly overwhelmed (which was understandable, even from my parents¡¯ point of view), Izzy took a second to find her voice. ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am. Um, Mrs. Evans. I¡¯m okay.¡±


    ¡°More than okay, I hope, since we brought ice cream.¡± Dad held up the bags in question, gesturing. ¡°Now come on, let¡¯s get to the kitchen so we can eat this before it melts all over the place and make a mess. You really don¡¯t want to make Olivia find someone to clean up melted ice cream off the carpet at four in the afternoon.¡±


    Mom, of course, had a few (mostly teasing) words for Dad bringing home ice cream a couple hours before dinner. But she didn¡¯t put a stop to it, which is what really told me just how much they had missed us. Any other time, she would have told him to put it in the freezer until later.


    In the dining room, we had just started to set the ice cream containers out on the table when another voice spoke up from the opposite doorway. ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t the tiniest stranger.¡±


    Simon. Hearing his voice, I really had to stop myself from visibly flinching. After the fight we¡¯d had the night before, it was hard not to jump or recoil a bit. Not that he knew anything about that. He had no way of knowing about the wave of revulsion and anger that swept through me as I thought about him actually fighting to help the man who had murdered Murphy¡¯s brother escape. He certainly had no way of knowing that I was the one he had been fighting against to do that. And, just like Mom and Dad, he couldn¡¯t find out or realize.


    So, just as I had been doing this whole time, I shoved down my immediate reaction and turned to face him. ¡°Oh great, they brought you back too?¡± My voice cracked just a little bit, but I hoped he didn¡¯t notice. ¡°I hope you at least had the decency to bring me a present.¡±


    ¡°Sure did, the gift of my presence.¡± With a broad smirk, he waggled his eyebrows at me. ¡°Get it? Gift of presence? Pres¨C¡± He grunted as I kicked him in the shin. Which, after last night, I knew for a fact he let me get away with. If he had wanted to, he could catch my foot and put me on my back without even thinking about it.


    ¡°Now, no fighting,¡± Mom chided. ¡°Come and take your seats for early dessert.¡± She said that with a look at my father that made it clear this was a special thing and he shouldn¡¯t think it was okay all of the time.


    Of course, once we were all eating, Izzy and I both had to talk even more about the stuff we¡¯d been doing while they were away. And, as far as that went, I was proud to find that we managed to make our answers sufficiently boring enough to make Simon feign falling asleep (of course, prompting Mom to give him a sharp poke). But the point was, he wasn¡¯t suspicious. None of them were. We kept it boring without being obvious about hiding things. And pushed slightly for information about how their trip went without being obvious about trying to catch them in any lies.


    And we had decent ice cream. Okay, very good ice cream. Remarkably good. My ex-boyfriend¡¯s new boyfriend¡¯s ice cream shop was amazing. That was the cherry on top of the whole night. Also my ice cream had cherries in it.


    In any case, we hung out for the rest of the evening like that. Dad suggested a movie in the theater, so we went there and watched this comedy western thing before dinner, which we had about an hour later than usual thanks to the whole ice cream thing. Then Mom wanted to do something together, so we played a board game in one of the dens. All of us, my parents, Simon, Izzy, and me. It was all so weirdly normal and casual. Mom and Dad acted like¡­ Mom and Dad. Simon was Simon. We played several games, I accused my brother of cheating, jumped on his back, Mom told us to settle down, Dad laughed, we all laughed.


    And then Izzy and I went upstairs, and the second the door of my bedroom closed behind us, the smile wiped itself off my face like someone had flipped a switch. I slumped back against the door, eyes closing for a moment as I let out a long breath and let the stress of pretending everything was fine throughout the entire evening slide out of me.


    When my eyes opened once more, Izzy was standing a few feet away, watching me a bit pensively as she quietly asked, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Not much worse than usual,¡± I replied quietly before shaking my head. ¡°I mean, wow. That was hard.¡± Swallowing, I moved away from the door while continuing. ¡°I sort of¡­ forgot what it was like to be face to face with them, knowing all these things. And after last night¡­ after Simon¨C¡± Cutting myself off, I put my hands against my face and gave a slight shudder. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m okay. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m okay. I¨C¡±


    The next thing I knew, Izzy took both of my arms and gently pulled my hands down from my face so she could look at me. Her voice was gentle. ¡°It¡¯s okay¡­ to not be okay.¡±


    Unable to find my voice for a moment, I settled on simply taking a small step that way and embracing her. She returned it, and we stood there like that for a few seconds before I managed a weak, ¡°Thanks. You being here means a lot.¡±


    Eventually, she released me and asked, ¡°Are you going out tonight?¡±


    I thought about it, but shook my head. ¡°No, after last night, I need some extra sleep to catch up. Besides, Roald and Murphy are gonna need a couple days before they do anything else. Preferably more than that, but I don¡¯t know how long we can stop Murphy from trying to go off to do something on her own. I need to talk to Paige and Raige about that whole Irelyn thing, but that can wait. I¡¯m just gonna crash and try to turn everything off for awhile. I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯ll be plenty to do soon enough anyway.¡±


    With a nod of agreement, Izzy headed out. I got ready for bed, ordered the lights to go out, and then laid down. My head was on the pillow and I started to drift off almost immediately, my thoughts winding down.


    And then I sat up. With two words, I ordered the lights to come back on, before sitting there in bed as my mind raced. Pushing myself over to the edge, I grabbed my Touched phone and quickly typed out a message to Amber, along with an attachment.


    Does this look familiar?


    After that, I waited anxiously for what felt like forever (but was really only about thirty seconds) until I saw the notification that she was typing. Soon, the message came back.


    That¡¯s him. That¡¯s him, how did you get that?


    Seeing that, I breathed out and slumped back. I was right. The realization that had struck me just before I was about to fall asleep was correct. I had to let that wash over me for a few seconds.


    Finally, I straightened a bit and typed out two more quick messages for Amber.


    The sex-shifting person you saw is named Maki. They work at an ice cream shop.


    Tomas is dating them.

 Kith And Kin 20-08

    Needless to say, the next day at school was awkward. I kept wanting to talk to Tomas, but had no idea how to start with all that. I needed to ask about Maki, clearly. Tomas was my best chance to actually find out what was going on with that situation, yet the whole thing was just¡­ so complicated. Seriously, even if Tomas had no connection to the Ministry and didn¡¯t know anything about them, which I was seriously doubting, how was I supposed to press him for information about his new boyfriend without looking like I was jealous or something?


    And yes, being mistaken as being jealous was basically at the bottom of the list of priorities, but still. I couldn¡¯t just start pressing Tomas for answers without likely looking at least somewhat suspicious. I had to be careful and delicate about the whole thing. Which wasn¡¯t helped by the fact that every time I started to think about going up to the boy and talking to him, a lump formed in my throat and I felt like I was going to throw up. Not really because of the new boyfriend thing, but because of my increasing thoughts that he was somehow involved in the Ministry stuff. It sucked, but I couldn¡¯t make my brain shut up with its paranoia that Tomas had only been dating me to keep an eye on me or something. Just the thought that any part of our relationship had been a product of my parents¡¯ meddling was awful.


    To that end, it wasn¡¯t until I was walking out of school at the end of the day and I saw him ahead of me that I finally actually did something. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the pace to move alongside the boy. He glanced my way and smiled, making my heart clench in on itself. ¡°Hey there, Cassie,¡± Tomas greeted me with a completely unfair wink. ¡°Fancy meeting you here.¡±


    Snorting, I replied, ¡°Yeah, I know, it¡¯s weird, huh?¡± It wasn¡¯t the best segue, but I continued with, ¡°And let me guess, you¡¯re running off to spend time with your mysterious new boyfriend?¡±


    The words made Tomas almost double over, snorting with amusement. ¡°Dude, Maki is a lot of things, but mysterious? Nah, he¡¯s basically an open book.¡± Glancing my way once more, he slyly added, ¡°But then, you probably know a lot about him, after getting ice cream over there.¡±


    ¡°You know about that?!¡± I blurted unthinkingly, before flushing deeply. ¡°I mean, of course you do. Dad¡¯s kinda¨Cand he was¨Cand we were¨C¡± My blush was even worse. ¡°I swear I didn¡¯t know who he was when Dad said we should go there. I wasn¡¯t trying to check up on your¨CI mean I wasn¡¯t¨CI mean¨C¡±


    Snickering at my reaction, Tomas patted my back. ¡°Easy, easy there. I know, but it was worth seeing your expression. God, Cass, at some point you¡¯re gonna have to get more of a poker face. You gotta figure out how to hide things a little better, you know?¡±


    The fact that I managed to keep a mostly straight face in response to that proved him wrong. Well, not exactly a straight face. I covered my reaction by exaggeratedly rolling my eyes and giving him a goofy expression. Was it cheating to deliberately have such an over-the-top reaction that there was no way to pick out the subtleties of it? Whatever, it was enough to hide how I really felt, and that was what mattered. ¡°Yeah,¡± I managed, ¡°I¡¯ll get right on that. Maybe my dad can show me how he bluffs people at work.¡± Despite everything, I made sure to keep an eye on the boy¡¯s expression when I mentioned my father¡¯s work. But either he didn¡¯t know anything, or he was really good at the poker face thing he had just been talking about. Whatever it was, he didn¡¯t give any reaction that I could read.


    ¡°Anyway, Maki¡¯s cool,¡± he went on with a shrug. ¡°We really should hang out sometime when he¡¯s not at work. I think you¡¯d like him.¡± His voice softened a little as he rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. ¡°But, you know, if that¡¯s too¨CI mean¡­¡±


    ¡°Sounds good,¡± I made myself say. No matter how I felt about it, having this open invitation to talk directly to the boy again and possibly find out more about what was going on with his (or her/their) situation with the Ministry was too important to pass up. My family would have no reason to wonder why I was spending time with Maki if it came through Tomas. ¡°We¡¯ll hang out sometime. I¡¯ll umm¡­ yeah, just lemme know. I¡¯ve got stuff to do today, so I suppose you¡¯re free to spend time with your boyfriend by yourself.¡± With those teasing words, I nudged his shoulder. By that point, we had reached the front of the school and I saw Jefferson there with the car. ¡°Text me about it!¡±


    Tomas agreed casually, as I started heading off. Before I could reach Jefferson, however, someone else fell into step beside me. It was that new girl, Dani. She was already speaking casually. ¡°Heard you like skating. Actually, I heard you¡¯re pretty good at it.¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah.¡± My head bobbed quickly. ¡°I guess. I do it enough, anyway. Why?¡±


    She offered me a shrug. ¡°Oh, you know, I¡¯m just trying to put something together. A bunch of us are hanging out at that skatepark on Grand River sometime this weekend. Still working out the details. But somebody said if I want to get a lot of people there, you¡¯re the one to talk to.¡±


    That made me stop and blink at her. ¡°People don¡¯t care where I go,¡± I replied with confusion. ¡°Why would me being there have anything to do with how many people show up?¡±


    Dani shrugged. ¡°I dunno, babe. I think it has something to do with people wanting to see what crazy stunts they can get you to do or something. Whatever, the point is, it could be pretty cool. I¡¯m ahh, not a bad skater myself. Be kinda fun to see what Miss Rich Girl can really do.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I replied, ¡°Yeah, maybe. Give me a text whenever you figure out when it¡¯s actually supposed to be, and I¡¯ll see what¡¯s going on.¡± I gave her the number of my regular phone, before waving as I headed off to join Jefferson at the car.


    ¡°Was that something important?¡± he asked once I got in the back.


    ¡°Just an invitation to hang out sometime, I guess,¡± I replied with a shrug, leaning back in the seat. ¡°Sorry for taking a couple minutes, I should¡¯ve told her I¡¯d talk later.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence from the front seat, before Jefferson turned a bit to face me. He wasn¡¯t an especially tall man. Actually, everything about him was unassuming. He had a very plain, pale face, thin glasses, and average cut dark blond hair. He didn¡¯t stand out in a crowd. Hell, he barely stood out all by himself.


    ¡°Miss Evans,¡± he began after that brief pause, ¡°I am aware of my reputation for preferring punctuality. It is one I encourage. But I do not fault you a moment after school to speak with your peers. Time is allotted for that before we pick up Miss Amor. There is a marked difference between lagging behind in the morning and being late for school than there is in taking a few minutes to speak with your¡­ friends when classes are over. Do not¡­ feel that you must apologize for that. It is never my intention to force you to abandon all social niceties to placate my desire for haste.¡±


    That was all he said. And honestly, it might have been the most words I¡¯d heard him say in a single go the entire time I¡¯d known him. I was still sitting there in silent surprise as he turned back around and began to pull the car away from the curb. I had no idea what to say to that. Finally, I managed a somewhat weak and awkward, ¡°Thanks.¡±


    From there, we picked up Izzy and headed home. It had been tempting to simply say that we didn¡¯t need a ride so I could go straight to working on that whole tunnel thing finally, but I didn¡¯t want to give my parents any reason whatsoever to think anything was up. They had just gotten home the day before, so I was going to play things as cool as possible. We would go home, make an appearance for my mother, and then make our exit with an excuse about hanging out somewhere. That was the best way to handle this, no matter how much I just wanted to jump into it.


    On the way, I talked to Izzy about completely innocuous things. Mostly about how her school stuff was going. Apparently, she was settling into classes pretty well. She said that she¡¯d already made some friends there, which didn¡¯t really surprise me considering how cool she was. It was just too bad her mother didn¡¯t give her the chance to show her that.


    With effort, I pushed that thought out of my head and focused on keeping things casual. Even disregarding the whole secrecy thing, pretty much the last thing Izzy needed was me bringing up her mother right then. Or any time, really.


    Soon, we made it home, and the two of us were met at the front door by my mother. She¡¯d had snacks prepared by the kitchen and wanted to sit with us out in one of the gardens. There, she talked to both of us about how our days went, and her own as well. At least, as much as she was actually willing to tell us. Obviously, she didn¡¯t get into any of the Ministry stuff. Though I had to admit, that would have been a good way of completely shocking me into giving something away if she ever wanted to. As far as Tomas¡¯s earlier mention of poker faces went, I definitely wouldn¡¯t be able to keep a straight face through my mother just randomly starting to talk about this stuff.


    Actually, that was something to think about. At some point, my parents probably were going to want to start telling me about this stuff. I wasn¡¯t sure when, but it would happen. And what was I going to do when they did? How was I going to react? How was I going to pretend that I didn¡¯t know what they were talking about? How much could I think about any of that without making my reaction seem rehearsed? Would it be a long time from now? God, would it be soon? How much of the whole Paintball situation would have changed by then?


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    Of course, I had to force myself to focus mainly on actually carrying on a real conversation so my mother didn¡¯t get suspicious. Thankfully, she was a busy woman and couldn¡¯t sit with us for too long. We were only out there for about twenty minutes or so before she got a call and had to excuse herself. Which left Izzy and me sitting together out at the table, surrounded by gorgeous and exotic flowers, with a small fountain burbling away next to us.


    Clearing my throat, I glanced to her. Just in case Mom had anything nearby that might overhear us, I simply said, ¡°Hey, you wanna go hang out at the mall?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± she replied easily, pushing herself up. ¡°We could probably get food there too, huh?¡±


    Making a show of snickering, again just in case, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, we can do that. Come on.¡± I was already pulling my phone from my pocket to text the kitchen staff so they¡¯d know not to worry about dinner for the two of us, then I ordered an Uber.


    Soon, we were close to the alley that led to Wren¡¯s shop. The two of us found an isolated area to change into our costumes out of sight, and then quickly made our way to the store itself. It was really Izzy¡¯s first time there, but we had both agreed that the time had come to stop tiptoeing around this whole thing. I¡¯d called ahead to make sure Wren was okay with me bringing Raindrop. Given the loud squeal of excitement that came through the phone, I was assuming she was fine with it.


    Someone was waiting for us by the back door as we approached. Seeing her, I immediately reflexively took a step back, only to belatedly realize it was Alloy. She wore a new set of armor made out of her black and purple marbles. This one had a purple base body-suit-like structure that ran from her toes all the way up over her head in a ski-mask sort of thing. It was fairly thin. Meanwhile, the black marble had turned into armored plating around her chest, knees, hands, and across her face.


    ¡°Wha¨Coh, jeeze, hey, warn me next time you¡¯re dressed up in something new,¡± I managed after that initial reaction. Beside me, Raindrop had tensed up as well, only to turn slightly to blink at me.


    Alloy, for her part, made a chastised sound and stammered, ¡°Ahh, sorry. Sorry, I forgot I wasn¡¯t¨CI mean I was¨CI mean¡­ sorry.¡± Seeing the other girl with me, she quickly stepped forward and extended her hand. ¡°Hi again! I mean, hey. Nice to see you without the, you know, whole life and death Scion situation going on.¡± Belatedly, she seemed to realize just how different she looked in her new armor and stammered a quick, ¡°Oh, it¡¯s me! It¡¯s Peeeaaaaayntball¡¯s assistant. Partner. Friend. Sidekick. Alloy. I¡¯m still Alloy, just a new costume. I like to switch it up.¡± In a quieter voice, she half-hissed, ¡°I have your action figure.¡±


    It was clearly Raindrop¡¯s turn to blush, though it was hidden behind her reflective mask. ¡°Uh, hi.¡± She accepted the other girl¡¯s hand and shook it somewhat awkwardly, as if uncertain how to go about this whole thing in meeting another Touched who was also apparently a super-fan. ¡°I¡¯m umm, uh, glad you¡¯re okay.¡±


    Shaking my head at the two of them, I looked to Alloy and quietly asked, ¡°How¡¯s Hobbes doing?¡±


    She gave a heavy sigh and offered a weak shrug. ¡°She¡¯s still with Calvin and his family. They¡¯re taking care of funeral arrangements and¡­ and all that. Or trying to. Do you have any idea how expensive something like that is if you don¡¯t want them to just dig a hole in the woods somewhere and drop them in? Seriously, it¡¯s like ten thousand dollars. They¡¯re setting up a crowdfunding thing, but you know, who really cares enough about him to help with that? People don¡¯t even know him. All they know is¨C¡± She stopped, clenching her fists. From behind her, the other marbles rose up into view, contorting themselves into boxing gloves as though they wanted to hit something too. ¡°Never mind. People suck. It all sucks. There¡¯s some other fundraising going on and they¡¯ll get part of it, I just¨CI wanna do more, but I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t do anything. I can¡¯t help her. I can¡¯t help any of them.¡±


    Reaching out, I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. ¡°People will help,¡± I insisted. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯ll get the money they need for the funeral.¡± Even if I had to make sure it happened myself. I couldn¡¯t do much to help Murphy with her pain and loss, but I could damn sure get the money for the funeral and all that.


    Izzy and I exchanged brief knowing looks, just before another figure appeared nearby. It was That-A-Way. She popped into view near the wall before turning to us. ¡°Hey. I guess I¡¯m not late, huh?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Nope, you¡¯re right on time. And you definitely beat¨C¡±


    Before I could finish that sentence, a loud squawk interrupted. We all looked over to see Riddles fly down from above, landing on a nearby dumpster. She squawked at us again, clearly informing everyone that we should wait.


    We didn¡¯t have to wait long. Within the next thirty seconds, a van came into view through the alley. It rolled to a stop, before Pack stepped out. She had her lizard backpack with her. ¡°Fancy seeing you guys again. Think we can avoid a running gunfight with the Scions this time?¡± As she spoke, Riddles flew down to land on the backpack itself, perching there while giving a watchful look all around.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope so,¡± I muttered. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough to deal with. Now come on, let¡¯s get in there.¡± With a look around at the rest of the group, I exhaled before reaching out to grab the door. One by one, the other four filed inside before I brought up the rear and let the door close behind me.


    We had been in the shop for approximately two and a half seconds before a loud squeal of excitement filled the air. Wren¨Cor Trevithick, as she was in the same costume she¡¯d worn when Lion had visited, the black bodysuit with bright pink armored panels over her arms, legs, and chest, with a black helmet and pink visor. Her rapidly-moving dragonfly wings were buzzing as she flew straight down from the ceiling to land right in front of Raindrop, talking a mile a minute. ¡°Ohhh you¡¯re here you¡¯re really here I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re really here and you made it and it¡¯s really you and you¡¯re so cool I watched you on the news forever well really only a few times cuz the news is boring but you¡¯re not boring you¡¯re awesome and I saw you fight that mean Janus guy and the other guy with the big hammer but you said I don¡¯t think so and made it float away and you hit him with a tidal wave and I have a hat with your name on it but I couldn¡¯t find it and Uncle Fred said it might be at the other shop but we didn¡¯t have time to go over there and I have a backpack too and that¡¯s over there and it¡¯s got your picture on it that¡¯s why I said I had a backpack and I made a birthday cake I mean Uncle Fred did but I helped and it had all the Minority on it and you were my favorite piece and¨C¡±


    Coughing, I quickly stepped in and put a hand on the brilliant little girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°She¡¯s pretty awesome, yeah. You both are. Raindrop, this is the awesome Trevithick. Trevithick, this is the awesome Raindrop. It¡¯s about time we all started working together to deal with the real problems around here. Which means getting everyone on the same page. Almost everyone else is already. Just uhh¡­¡± I hesitated, then looked to Wren. ¡°Where¡¯s Fred? I need to talk to both of you about something important. That¡¯s why we¡¯re all here together. It¡¯s why I brought Raindrop too.¡±


    ¡°Did someone say¨Coh.¡± That was Fred himself, coming out of the doorway leading to the stairs. As he saw everyone, the man came up short. I saw his Adam¡¯s apple bob as he gulped before stepping forward. ¡°Ah, well, I guess it¡¯s ahh, yeah. You¡¯re all here.¡±


    Introducing Raindrop to him, and vice versa, I gestured. ¡°Would you and Trevithick mind sitting down?¡± After a brief hesitation to gather myself, I added, ¡°There¡¯s some really important stuff we need to talk about. Secret stuff that you need to know. It¡¯s time.¡±


    Fred and Alloy gathered a few chairs and everyone took a seat. Everyone except me, anyway. For my part, I stood in front of them and let out a long breath before focusing on Fred himself. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to single you out. I¡¯m sorry for that, for this. But I have to, right now, in front of everyone. You know what you did before was a mistake. But what I¡¯m about to tell you and Trevithick is a lot bigger than anything else. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s big, and you could f¨Cscrew over all of us, everyone, if you wanted to after I tell you about it.¡±


    Fred, for his part, was quiet for a moment. He saw everyone looking at him, but didn¡¯t react. He stared at the floor, then shifted his weight to meet my gaze. ¡°I¡¯m not that guy anymore.¡± His voice was firm. ¡°I¨CI did¨Cwhat I did before, trying to get money the cheap way, the illegal way, that¡¯s not¨CI won¡¯t do that again. I don¡¯t know how to promise that any better than¨Cthan just saying it. I give you my word, I swear. I won¡¯t screw you over.¡±


    I had to believe him. If this whole thing was going to go on, he needed to know the truth. They both did. We needed Wren¡¯s help going forward. Which meant getting everyone on as close to the same page as possible. Scary as the whole prospect was, it was time. The encounter with Simon and that whole situation had convinced me of that much.


    So, after taking one more deep breath to brace myself, I launched into the whole thing. The others piped up now and then to give their own perspective, but mostly it was me. I explained what the Ministry was, and how much control they really had over everything. And I explained how that related to what had happened to Murphy¡¯s brother and those other people who had died.


    By the time I was done, Fred had stood up and was pacing back and forth, listening while covering his face with his hands. Once in a while, he muttered something about how much sense that all made. But mostly he was quiet.


    Wren, meanwhile, absorbed it all in silence, aside from shifting a bit in her seat now and then or asking a clarifying question. She seemed far more mature in those moments than her actual age and appearance would have suggested.


    Finally, in the end, she asked, ¡°What¡­ what are we gonna do about it?¡±


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± I echoed, glancing to the others. ¡°We have a plan. I mean, not a full plan. But a start. We have an idea of how to get into one of the Ministry¡¯s bases, to get more information. That¡¯s where we¡¯re going to get our friend upstairs the info we need to find her a new body. And it¡¯s where we¡¯re going to find out as much as we can about how they operate and any more of their secrets we can get a hold of. That much we can do. But if we¡¯re going ahead with this, if we¡¯re actually going to go up against the Ministry, we¡­ I need help. We all do. I know it¡¯s a lot to put on you, Trevithick.¡±


    ¡°Wren.¡± She pulled off the helmet, facing the others. ¡°I¡¯m Wren. And¡­ and yeah. Yes. I wanna help.¡± With that declaration, she straightened up, fists clenched. ¡°They hurt Hobbes. If¡­ if you think you can find out where that bad guy went by breaking into their secret base, then I¡¯m gonna help.¡±


    Giving one short nod, I replied, ¡°And you, Fred?¡±


    He, in turn, continued to face away from me for a few seconds before turning to face us. ¡°I can¡¯t do much. Just watch over Wren there, really. Maybe drive a car if you need it. Be an innocuous face. Fetch things. But if that helps¨Cwhatever you need. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m in. I¡¯m in for whatever this is, wherever it goes.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I managed after a moment.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s talk about what we need to get this tunnel started.¡±

 Kith And Kin 20-09

    We didn¡¯t go immediately, of course. There were still a few things that needed to be done. First of all, we needed shovels, pickaxes, that sort of thing. Sure, once we got closer to the base itself, we were going to have to be a lot more careful and quiet (likely using my black paint as much as possible), but at least early on, we could use ordinary tools to move faster. Wren initially said she was going to look into putting together some sort of quiet debris mover/digging device, but I told her that she should focus on ways to protect everyone once we eventually got through to the base, so we didn¡¯t have to use our powers quite as much. Protective equipment, especially for those who didn¡¯t have any powers like Murphy and Roald, was the priority. For the moment, we could just dig the old-fashioned way. Well, as ¡®old-fashioned¡¯ as it could get while I was literally using pink paint to make the dirt and rocks easy to move.


    Yeah, I was trying to psych myself up. This was going to be long, hard work. Even I knew that much, inexperienced as I was. It was going to take us a long time to dig a tunnel all the way through to the mall. But it was the best plan we had. There wasn¡¯t really a better option, aside from the crazy thought I¡¯d had about finding a way to bribe or trick Undermine into digging the tunnel for us. But somehow, I didn¡¯t think that would work out very well.


    So, Fred and Pack were both going to get tools. Separately, that was. They both had their own ideas about where to get the stuff we needed. Alloy ended up going with Fred to help carry stuff. Meanwhile, Amber and Izzy were going to get other supplies. Lights so we could see what we were doing down there, chains to hang them off of through the tunnel once it got going, a generator for those lights, and anything else they could think of. Not all of it was super necessary right at this second, given how long it was going to take to actually get far enough into the tunnel for it to be relevant, but still. Better to have it.


    Meanwhile, I went upstairs to see Paige and Raige. After everything else that had happened, I still needed to get answers from them about what was going on with her sister. Their sister? I wasn¡¯t sure. The point was, I needed to find out more about how to deal with the Irelyn situation.


    So, I grabbed the control box thing, sending the word ¡®aardvark¡¯ as Raige had requested. Then I sat back and waited for a few minutes, gazing out the nearby window while thinking about everything that was going on. Fortunately, I didn¡¯t have to be left to my own thoughts for very long before Paige¡¯s voice abruptly spoke up. ¡°Paintball?¡±


    Quickly, I shoved everything else out of my mind and turned that way. ¡°Paige?¡±


    Just as before, her eyes were still closed. She was just lying there, completely motionless on the couch aside from moving her mouth to speak. ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied flatly. ¡°It¡¯s me. And her. Both of us.¡±


    Immediately, her mouth moved again, and I knew it was Raige this time. ¡°We both want to know what¡¯s going on. Had any more encounters with the Banners¡¯ real daughter?¡±


    Reflexively, I started to insist that Paige was their real daughter too if they had adopted her. Then I rethought. I had no idea what sort of relationship they¡¯d had. They¡¯d literally bought her, so maybe I shouldn¡¯t insist that she was their daughter. Maybe I should just leave it alone for now. Instead, I replied, ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen her since that one time. But I did hear at¡­¡± Pausing, I looked around a bit to make sure we were still alone, then sat next to her (them) and lowered my voice. ¡°I heard she¡¯s been at the school asking about you. Trying to find out if anyone there knows where you or your parents went. I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s doing the same at their offices or whatever. She¡¯s talking to anyone who might know anything.¡± Swallowing, I quietly murmured, ¡°She¡¯s not just going to let this go.¡±


    There was no response from either of them for a few seconds. But I could see her mouth open and shut a couple times without any sound, as though she was repeatedly starting to say something before stopping. Finally, Paige very hesitantly spoke with a somewhat weak, ¡°But I¡¯m not her sister. I never was. Everything she did was just playing a role, like they did. She came around once in awhile and took me to dinner or a show, but it didn¡¯t really mean anything.¡±


    Biting my lip, I offered a hesitant, ¡°Maybe it meant more to her than you thought?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± came the quick response, almost too quick. Like she was telling herself the same thing and had to quickly quash it before her hopes rose too much. ¡°No, she¡¯s probably just looking for her parents. That¡¯s¡­ the important thing, finding out where her parents are.¡±


    Before I could even say anything to that, she spoke again. Or rather, her voice spoke again. It was Raige this time. ¡°That¡¯s bullshit and you know it. They disowned her, threw her out because she wouldn¡¯t be their obedient little puppet, the thing they were literally gonna turn us into. Yeah, she might try to find out what happened to them, cuz that¡¯s just the sort of person she is. But going to the school, asking people like¡­ Paintball over there about it? That¡¯s for you. She¡¯s looking for you, cuz she like¡­ gives a flying fuck about you or something.¡±


    ¡°I think she¡¯s right,¡± I put in. ¡°Seriously, Paige, that was the impression I got. She wants to find you because she¡¯s worried that something bad happened. I mean, I think she¡¯s worried about her parents, of course, at least somewhat. But it¡¯s you too. Or you mainly. I dunno. The point is, she¡¯s not gonna let it go. She¡¯s going to keep looking and asking around. And even if she doesn¡¯t find out the truth, if she keeps pushing¡­¡±


    ¡°She might get into something dangerous,¡± Paige finished for me, voice grim. ¡°She can¨C¡± There was a pause as she considered her next words. ¡°She can take care of herself, but she doesn¡¯t know what she¡¯s walking into. She could turn over the wrong stone and find a snake under it.¡±


    Hesitating, I quietly asked, ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± God, this whole situation was so weird. I was trying to help Paige Banners, who was really one of my oldest friends, after having spent years as the girl who treated me like shit because her Tech-Touched father forced her to in a long-term plan to get himself out of Breakwater and take down my parents¡¯ supervillain organi¨Cyeah. If I sat there and thought about it for too long, my head was going to explode.


    Paige was already answering. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t¨Cwe have to make her slow down and¡­¡± She paused. ¡°I have to talk to her. I have to call her, video chat, something she can look at and hear me and let me¡­ tell her¡­ something.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Raige put in. ¡°You really think I¡¯m just going to hand over control of the body so you can make a video call and then shove me down into a dark pit? The second I hand you that much control, you¡¯ll make me disappear.¡±


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t,¡± Paige insisted. Which, yeah, it was really weird to sit here and watch what appeared from the outside to be a girl literally arguing with herself. If I didn¡¯t actually know better already, I might have thought she was doing a skit or something. ¡°I¡¯m¨Cyou don¡¯t want anything bad to happen to Irelyn either. I know you don¡¯t. We¨Cwe both know how it could go, what sort of trouble she could get into. She¨Cwe have to stop her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we. We have to stop her,¡± came the response immediately.


    ¡°But we can¡¯t both control the body at the same time. We can barely manage this much,¡± Paige insisted. ¡°We have to let one of us talk to her. Otherwise we¡¯re going to screw something up and she¡¯ll notice something¡¯s wrong. Which is just going to make things worse.¡±


    They were both silent for a few seconds then. It felt like I should say something, but I had no idea what. This felt like something they were going to have to work out with each other while I just sat there and listened. It made the whole thing pretty awkward.


    Finally, Paige spoke. ¡°Raige, listen. I¡¯m saying this in front of Paintball so¡­ he hears it too. I am not going to abandon you. I¡¯m not going to shove you away. I¡¯m not going to make you disappear. Let me talk to Irelyn and try to calm her down. Then I¡¯ll let go of the body until they bring us a second one for you. I swear to you. I swear on¡­¡± There was a brief pause before, ¡°I swear on Anthony. I swear on our memories of Anthony, I will not try to get rid of you and I will not shove you away. Let me help Irelyn so she doesn¡¯t get in trouble, please. Then we can go back to this.¡±


    Her words were met with silence, while I felt a twisting in my stomach when Anthony¡¯s name was brought up. I still didn¡¯t actually have my memories of him, but that didn¡¯t stop my emotions entirely just based on what I did know. Which¡­ really raised the question of how bad this would be if I ever did get my memories of him back fully. Hell, just seeing his house¨Cor rather, a virtual replica of it, had hit me really hard back when we went into Paige¡¯s computer. So if I ever got my actual memories back, it was¡­ it wasn¡¯t going to be fun. And yet, I wanted them. They were my memories. I knew it was going to hurt, that it was going to suck. I knew it would be incredibly painful. But he was my friend. I wanted¡­ I wanted to remember him. I wanted the pain. Because it was mine. Was that selfish? Was it dumb? Was it stupid to want the pain of losing my best friend back just because it was mine?


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Finally, I was drawn out of my own thoughts when Raige spoke up. ¡°Okay, fine. I¡¯ll give you the time to talk to her. But don¡¯t make me regret it. I seem to recall the last person I trusted and tried to help immediately tried to erase me.¡± Her voice was hard, but I could hear a bit of vulnerability behind it too. She really had been loyal to their father. She thought he cared about her because she was¡­ because she was doing what he wanted. She had been all-in on his side, and he destroyed that. No wonder she was hesitant to actually trust anyone else right now, no matter what we said.


    Paige spoke then. ¡°It¡¯s a deal. But we need to come up with a good excuse that will make her back off until we can¡­ until we get you a body.¡± Something in the way she paused there made me think she had been about to suggest that they meet her in person, but she stopped. Whether that was because she didn¡¯t believe the other girl would go for that after how reluctant she was to even allow a few minutes for a video call, or because she was afraid of meeting Irelyn face-to-face like that, I wasn¡¯t sure. Maybe a bit of both.


    Realizing they were waiting for me to say something on the whole ¡®how to explain things to Irelyn¡¯ front, I coughed. ¡°Uhh, I¡¯m not sure. You guys know her better than I do. Wait, would it be better to try to tell her that you¡¯re completely okay and just busy with something, or to send her on a wild goose chase for a few days?¡±


    There was a brief pause before Paige asked, ¡°What sort of wild goose chase?¡±


    Oh boy. Wincing, I offered a helpless shrug before remembering that her eyes were closed. They couldn¡¯t see me. So, I spoke up. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Just something that can take her out of the city for a few days so she isn¡¯t poking the hornets¡¯ nest too much. You know, convince her to go look somewhere else where she won¡¯t get in trouble. Though¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s gonna take longer than a few days to actually get into that base so we can find your new body. And I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s nothing we could say that would send her somewhere for a couple weeks.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Raige put in. ¡°But maybe we can convince her that Paige is somewhere else for those couple weeks, looking into something else. Come on, the whole point is that we want her to stop digging around here, right? If she thinks Paige is hundreds or thousands of miles away, then she¡¯s got no reason to keep poking around Detroit.¡±


    ¡°Keep it vague,¡± Paige added thoughtfully. ¡°Maybe give her a reason to start trying to figure out exactly where I am, so she puts all her energy into that instead of pushing over potential snake-rocks here. But it has to be enough of a push to make her focus on it, without being an obvious trick. Irelyn isn¡¯t stupid. And¡­¡± There was another pause before she admitted somewhat more quietly, ¡°And I don¡¯t want to lie to her too much. But it¡¯s too dangerous to let her keep digging around here. Between our father and your parents, it¡¯s¡­ we have to distract her.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± I agreed. ¡°But what exactly do we say to give her that distraction? What¡¯s gonna make her think you¡¯re somewhere else but not know exactly where? It has to be something pretty convincing, you know?¡±


    None of us had an immediate answer to that. We sat there in silence, trying to think of the exact right thing. If we screwed this up, we¡¯d just be putting Irelyn in even more danger. And while I was sure she was plenty capable for who she was, this was the Touched sort of danger. Not something she was exactly prepared for.


    Raige started to speak up slowly, obviously still considering. ¡°What if we tell her that you think her parents got into something dangerous. They disappeared, but you think you can find them.¡±


    ¡°And,¡± Paige took over (how I could tell the difference between them that easily when it was the same mouth speaking, I wasn¡¯t sure), ¡°we promise to keep checking in, but refuse to tell her exactly where we are because it¡¯s too dangerous. We could set up a whole thing of¡­ a whole story of trying to find our¨Cno. No, that¡¯s lying to her. It¡¯s lying too much.¡±


    ¡°Do we have a choice?¡± Raige insisted. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a lie to stop her from getting herself between the rock of Daddy dearest and the hard place of the Ministry. Neither of them would hesitate to get rid of her if she was a problem, and you know it. If she keeps poking around like she is, she¡¯s going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and they¡¯ll put a stop to it. Either permanently, or by fucking with her memories. They could go as far as making her forget about any feelings she might have for you enti¨C¡±


    Abruptly, the mouth stopped moving, contorting slightly as Paige yanked control back to interrupt. ¡°No, we won¡¯t let that happen. Okay. We can lie to her, as long as it keeps her out of their crosshairs. Just¡­ let me think of the best thing to say. I mean, let¡­ us think.¡±


    So, the three of us sat there for a while longer, batting ideas back and forth as we planned out exactly what to say. Eventually, I went downstairs and asked Wren if she still had one of those untraceable phones, like the one Fred had sold to Ashton. When I explained the general idea of why we needed it, she went digging in a box and found an upgraded version. Apparently this one was supposed to make it look like your call was coming from anywhere you wanted. Something about moving the signal or whatever. The point was, it would look completely convincing if Irelyn tried to have it traced.


    Thanking the girl, I went back upstairs and we talked a little bit more about exactly what would be said. Then it was time. We couldn¡¯t delay any longer. Any minute now, Irelyn might ask the wrong question to the wrong person and see the wrong reaction. It could be bad.


    Instead of moving immediately when I held out the phone, however, Paige was silent and still. Belatedly, I realized she and Raige were having their own private conversation, one that I wasn¡¯t privy to. That was fair. I had felt a bit like an eavesdropper earlier. So, I just sat there and waited. They had their own issues to work through. Obviously, Raige still wasn¡¯t eager to let go of the death grip she had on stopping Paige from controlling the body. Not even for a few minutes. She had been burned so hard by their father that even a little bit of trust was almost impossible now. She was still afraid that Paige was going to use that control to shove her into a hole for good. And could I really blame her for having those worries after everything Paige had¨Cno. No, that wasn¡¯t her. She had no choice. Paige had only acted that way toward me because of her father. I had to keep telling myself that. And yet, that by itself proved my point. After Raige had been burned so hard by the man she had clearly trusted the most, no wonder she was hesitant to trust the girl she had literally been sent to replace. Yeah, that was a whole thing.


    Finally, Paige¡¯s eyes opened. She met my gaze while slowly pushing herself into a sitting position. ¡°We¡¯re ready.¡±


    Handing over the phone, I murmured, ¡°Good luck.¡± Then I stood back and watched.


    Paige held the phone in one hand, taking a breath before letting it out as she brushed her finger over the screen a couple times to select where she wanted the call to appear to be coming from. Florida, in this case. Then she dialed the number for the video call as I made sure that neither I, nor any windows could be seen from the camera¡¯s point of view. It would have been pretty bad to go through all of this trouble of pretending Paige was somewhere else, only to have her sitting right in front of a window showing the Detroit skyline.


    The phone rang a couple times before I heard Irelyn¡¯s voice answer. ¡°Hey, what¨CPaige!¡± She sounded completely shocked. Which was fair.


    ¡°Hey, Irelyn,¡± Paige replied tiredly. ¡°Heard you¡¯ve been looking for us. I mean, your parents.¡±


    ¡°And you. I¨Cwhere are you? Paige, what¡¯s going on?¡± the woman demanded. ¡°Are you okay? What¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I mean, I¡­¡± There was a brief pause before Paige pushed on. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t tell you before, but there¡¯s something going on. Your parents were¡­ they were looking into something in one of your father¡¯s businesses somewhere in¨C¡± Cutting herself off with a very convincing look of nervousness, she shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t¨CI don¡¯t want to¨C¡±


    ¡°Paige, you know who I am. You know what I do,¡± Irelyn put in. ¡°If you¡¯re in some sort of trouble, I can help. I mean, I¡¯m¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± the other girl blurted quickly. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not¨Cyou should focus on what you¡¯re doing. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on with your parents, but I¡¯m pretty sure they got in over their heads.¡±


    ¡°Your parents too, Paige,¡± Irelyn insisted. ¡°And what do you mean, in over their heads? What business were they looking into? Where are you? Where are they?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¨CI can¡¯t say anything else,¡± Paige informed her, stumbling a bit over the words. ¡°I¡¯ll call you later, I promise. Just¡­ I¡¯ll find your parents, okay? I¡¯ll find out what happened and call you.¡±


    With that, she disconnected the call and sat back with a heavy sigh. It wasn¡¯t much at all, but then, we had decided that not saying very much was the right way to go. Now if Irelyn traced that call, she¡¯d get a result of somewhere in Florida. Which, quite intentionally, was nowhere near Detroit. So, with any luck, she would start poking around there instead of here.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I finally managed to ask after a few moments of silence.


    Paige, in answer, slowly laid back on the couch. Her hand moved toward mine, and I accepted it. Squeezing firmly, she looked to me. ¡°Find Raige a body, please. And be careful, okay?¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± I promised, returning the squeeze before straightening up once more. ¡°We¡¯ll get you both in your own bodies.¡±


    With that, I said goodbye to both of them, released her hand, and turned to walk out of the room. On the way, my phone buzzed. It was Amber, who spoke as soon as I answered. ¡°We¡¯ve got the stuff on our end, how¡¯s it going over there?¡±


    Glancing back toward Paige¡¯s motionless form, I replied, ¡°We¡¯re good. And¡­¡± Checking the texts on my phone, I confirmed, ¡°The others have their stuff. So I guess I¡¯ll meet you guys over by the mall.


    ¡°Time to start digging.¡±

 Kith And Kin 20-10

    I was in for a bit of a surprise when I made it to the alley (really it was more of the space between one half-finished office building and an old self-service car wash that barely got any use) where I was supposed to be meeting Amber, Izzy, and the others. Two surprises, actually, named Murphy and Roald. They were both standing next to a dumpster with the others, and were the only two besides Fred not wearing any sort of mask. As I dropped down from the roof to land casually on my feet (thanks to orange soles), both looked up from the ground they had been intently staring at. No one had been talking, aside from Amber and Pack, who were in a whispered conversation until I arrived.


    Focusing on Murphy and Roald first, I stepped that way after catching myself. ¡°Wha¨Cyou guys¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say it,¡± Murphy interrupted. Her eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles under them, voice sounding hoarse and strained. ¡°Don¡¯t say we don¡¯t need to be here.¡± She opened her mouth, then stopped as the only thing that escaped her was an almost keening sound for a moment before she caught herself. Visibly swallowing, she tried again. ¡°I need to be here.¡±


    How was I supposed to argue with that? Instead, I simply asked, ¡°No masks?¡±


    They both shrugged, Murphy asking, ¡°What difference does it make? Not like they couldn¡¯t figure out who we were if they actually put the slightest effort into it. If we¡¯re gonna work at the pawn shop, they could all just¡­ you know, walk in and shop there.¡± Belatedly, she added, a bit darkly, ¡°Besides, what¡¯s Pack over there gonna do, tell all her supervillain friends how to track us down and steal our three-dollar lamp and fifty-dollar television?¡±


    For her part, Pack offered a casual, ¡°I asked Blackjack and he said the market for fifth-hand goods held together with duct tape and prayers dried up last week. So I guess their stuff is safe.¡± With a glance toward those two, she added a belated, ¡°I mean, fuck. Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to make it sound like¨CI mean¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± That was Murphy, her voice flat. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you think our shit is shit. I care if you¡¯re gonna help drag the secrets out of these motherfuckers so we can find the guy.¡±


    ¡°That I can definitely do,¡± Pack agreed. ¡°Luciano¡¯s a worthless fuckbag. And he definitely doesn¡¯t deserve to ride off into the sunset after that shit he pulled. I¡¯m in for bringing him down.¡± Looking at me, she added, ¡°And not for betraying people.¡±


    My head gave a quick nod. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were. Just¡­ wanted to make sure they were comfortable with this. It¡¯s not just about you. It¡¯s about showing their faces to everyone here.¡±


    Clearing his throat, Roald spoke up finally. ¡°We couldn¡¯t sit around the apartment anymore. My sister¡¯s taking care of all the big picture stuff, so we just¡­¡± He trailed off, though it was obvious that he was going to say something about feeling useless. Instead, he finished with, ¡°¡­ decided it¡¯d be a good thing for you guys to have people who can stand around and play lookout, or go over to the mall itself. And trying to do all that while constantly putting ski masks on whenever you guys come out or we go in was, you know, more trouble than it¡¯s worth.¡± He offered a weak shrug. ¡°We¡¯re not important enough to disguise.¡±


    Oh boy was there ever a lot I wanted to say to that. But I wasn¡¯t sure where to start, or what good it would do. Still, I felt like I needed to say something. It was just that everything that came to mind felt wrong, trite, or worse. In the end, all I managed to say was, ¡°Any time you guys need to leave to¡­ to focus on other things, do it. And if you need anything¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what we need,¡± Murphy put in. ¡°We need to do something about those fuckers who let¨Cwho helped Luciano escape. And we need to find out where they sent him. Both of which we do by getting inside that fucking base. Which isn¡¯t gonna happen by standing around here.¡±


    Alloy, standing behind the two with her arms folded tightly as though trying to restrain herself from doing¡­ something (probably punching the nearest wall), spoke up. ¡°Yeah, we all wanna contribute. See?¡± Her head nodded over to several of her marbles as they transformed into a shovel, a drill, and a pick-axe. ¡°Even these guys. We¡¯re raring to go.¡±


    Fred, who had instinctively put his hands over Wren¡¯s¡­ helmet where her ears would have been every time Murphy cursed, spoke up. ¡°We¡¯ll be heading back to the shop to get to work on the tech stuff. Okay, she¡¯ll get to work on the tech stuff and I¡¯ll hold stuff. But the kid wanted to be a part of this whole¡­ thing.¡± He waved a hand around as though encompassing all of us.


    Bobbing her head quickly, Wren added, ¡°It¡¯s important! But don¡¯t worry, I already have ideas about how to make some stuff to protect you guys. But seeing you together, it helps me, uhh, visualize, and visualizing is important.¡± With a heavy sigh, she mumbled, ¡°I wish I could ask Lion for advice.¡± Even as she said that, however, the girl was already holding up both hands. ¡°I won¡¯t, I won¡¯t, I swear. I won¡¯t talk about it at all. I won¡¯t say a word.¡± She mimed zipping her lips, running fingers across the front of the helmet. ¡°I know how to keep secrets.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all gonna have to be the biggest secret-keepers in the world,¡± I pointed out, glancing around at everyone. ¡°If we don¡¯t want the Ministry to figure out what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± That-A-Way agreed, before gesturing in the direction of the mall. ¡°This isn¡¯t a simple, quick thing. Even with help, it¡¯s gonna take days, even weeks of digging to make this tunnel, considering we have to be so careful about doing it while also doing all the other stuff we have to do. We don¡¯t rush. We don¡¯t screw it up. Cuz we won¡¯t get a second chance if they even get a hint about what we¡¯re doing. As soon as they do, as soon as they even have a reason to start checking around, we¡¯re screwed. Our main advantage here is them being complacent. So, as much as we all want to get to the part where we break through to the base, let¡¯s try not to get in a rush and end up captured and exposed.¡±


    Pack grunted. ¡°Yeah, that doesn¡¯t sound like my idea of a good time. But I still don¡¯t want to spend months doing this thing, and the longer we take the more chance of something going wrong anyway. So let¡¯s get busy, huh?¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯d be a completely new situation for me,¡± I muttered without thinking. As the others all looked at me, I found myself flushing under the helmet and mask. ¡°You know, the ¡®get busy¡¯ thing. I mean. Because I¡¯m always busy, and I have a to-do list the size of a¨Cnever mind.¡± Waving them off, I quickly changed the motion into urging them to move. ¡°Let¡¯s get insi¨Cwait, Pack?¡± Before we all went running out into the open, I looked to her. Sure, the alley was only a short distance across what amounted to a dirt road (used for construction crews) leading to the unfinished motel across from the mall, but still. There was always the slim chance that someone could be nearby, and given how close we were to that Ministry base, we were going to have to be really careful.


    She, in turn, took a moment to lean out and look up at the sky before turning back to me. ¡°Coast is clear. Riddles doesn¡¯t see anything.¡±


    Taking the opportunity, we all ran across the dirt road, trying to be quick and low. It was only about a twenty yard dash to get from the alley to the cover of the construction site, which itself was down in what amounted to a pit lower than the level of the road. Once at the edge, there was a dirt slope we kind of half-slid down (aside from Alloy, who rode one of her marbles in board-form) about fifteen feet to the ground level. We could¡¯ve followed the road around and into the lot, but that would have taken us into plain view of the nearby busy street, which would¡¯ve defeated the purpose of being stealthy right then.


    Once we were all down and hidden from the back by the raised dirt, and from the front by the half-finished building itself, I spoke up. ¡°Okay so most of the time when we come out here, we¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s after dark.¡±


    Way gave a quick nod, before focusing on me as she put in, ¡°And never come out here alone, anybody. Sure, we all wanna get this done as soon as we can, but digging by yourself isn¡¯t a good idea. You need at least one lookout.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Alloy raised a hand. ¡°Hey, uhh, sorta speaking of lookout, how exactly are we gonna make sure no one finds this tunnel in the days or weeks it¡¯s gonna take to dig far enough? I mean, sure, the construction isn¡¯t active right now, but can we count on that lasting? And besides, there could be inspections, or just people who come up and screw around. If any of them find a big long tunnel leading toward the mall, they might, you know, say something.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll hide it,¡± I immediately answered. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna, like, start the tunnel right in the middle of the main office or whatever. We¡¯ll find an out-of-the-way room, dig a hole down, and then cover it up whenever we¡¯re done. We need to dig down first anyway to make sure we¡¯re close to the level of the secret base itself. So we go down, widen it out a bit so we have some space to work with, then start tunneling over. And whenever we¡¯re not digging, we¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s hidden.¡±


    By that point, we found our way to the building itself. The place was in varying stages of completion, with the main office and the nearest rooms to it being basically done except for paint and moving furniture in, while some of the rooms further away were little more than framework. We chose one of the near-completed rooms so we would be as hidden as possible. There was a wooden pallet just outside, and we looked around before finding a handful of heavy bags of cement mix. And Roald found a ratty old rug. That seemed like as good as anything for hiding the hole. Whenever we weren¡¯t digging, we would put the rug over it, pull the pallet over top of that, then put the cement bags on top of the pallet. As long as we just did all that in a corner, it would hopefully stop anyone from finding our hole. At least accidentally. Assuming we could get this done before construction started again. If we didn¡¯t, that was a whole new bag of worms.


    But we¡¯d deal with that when and if the time came. For now, we had a plan. After finding the spot we wanted to start in, and gathering the stuff to cover the hole when it was made, we all met up once more in that room.


    Wren, hovering up off the floor on her dragonfly wings, was already cheerfully insisting, ¡°This place is great! It¡¯s perfect, you can dig down and over, you can see if anyone¡¯s coming, but you¡¯re out of the way.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right, you can see the main road from here,¡± Way was saying, as she stood over by a window (there was no glass in it) and pointed. ¡°Right down that way is where the dirt road leading up here starts, so you should be able to see if any cars start heading this way.¡±


    ¡°And over there,¡± Pack put in from the doorway, ¡°You can see clear over the whole site. That way goes to the slope we came down, and that way is¡­ pretty wide open.¡± She glanced to Murphy and Roald. ¡°If one of you, or whoever¡¯s standing guard, sits here by the door and the other sits over there by the charming and lovely That-A-Way¡¯s window, you should be able to give us a heads-up if anyone heads this direction.¡±


    ¡°Sure, whatever,¡± Murphy replied simply, glancing away from everyone as she muttered, ¡°As long as we contribute. Standing guard, digging holes, kicking mother¨C¡± She caught herself, eyes shifting toward Wren before amending, ¡°Kicking people who deserve it in the junk. Whatever.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll help,¡± I agreed. ¡°You all will. You¡­¡± Hesitating, I swallowed, completely overwhelmed as I glanced around for a moment to take all this in. ¡°Thanks, guys. I didn¡¯t expect to have all this help when I came up with the plan before. It¡¯s¨Cyou¡¯re¡­thanks.¡± Yeah, it felt awkward. I had no idea how to say what I was feeling right then. Hell, I didn¡¯t even know how to describe what I was feeling. Seeing these guys, realizing they were actually¡­ helping, that they all wanted to do something about the Ministry (even if it was for varying reasons), it was big. It meant more than I could say.


    Thankfully, Izzy seemed to realize that I was floundering, and spoke up. ¡°We should see how well the digging thing works. And the dirt plan.¡±


    ¡°Dirt plan?¡± Roald echoed before giving a quick double-take. ¡°Wait, what are you gonna do with all the dirt? I mean, you¡¯re digging a tunnel all the way to the mall, that¡¯s¡­ a lot of dirt.¡±


    ¡°Thankfully,¡± Amber replied, ¡°we actually do have a plan for that part, like Raindrop said. We¡¯ll put the dirt in buckets, then she¡¯ll use water to make them weightless and float them up out of the hole to dump in one of the dirt piles that¡¯s already out there from the construction work. Which means she¡¯ll be focused on that, while Paintball has to be down there to do the whole pink thing.¡±


    ¡°I can do both,¡± Alloy put in. ¡°Whatever¡¯s helpful. My little friends can be shovels, axes, buckets to carry dirt, and probably more things I can¡¯t think of right now. And they can dig without anyone holding them.¡±


    My head was bobbing a bit. ¡°I think the best thing for your friends to do, besides giving us a break on the digging sometimes, is to turn into scoops that can pull the dirt out of the way and carry it over to the buckets. And possibly even be buckets themselves. I mean, you and Raindrop can work out the specifics with each other. I¡¯m pretty sure you can both carry out dirt and rocks faster than we can dig. We¡¯ll figure out a system as we go.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and speaking of breaks and a system,¡± Pack noted, ¡°we can trade off and on.¡± She glanced over to Murphy and Roald. ¡°Me and Rose, we¡¯ll switch back and forth with you minions between standing watch and doing the digging part. It¡¯ll go faster that way. One pair gets tired of digging, the other pair switches in. If you think you¡¯re good for that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good for whatever helps find Luciano,¡± Murphy informed her. ¡°I¡¯ll dig twenty tunnels if that¡¯s what it takes. Whatever. Let¡¯s just get this show on the road.¡±


    Clearing his throat, Fred spoke up. ¡°Yeah, I think that¡¯s our cue. We¡¯ll head back to the shop so the kid can get to work with her designs or whatever.¡±


    Those two headed off, quickly followed by Pack, who went to get the van with the supplies she had picked up, and Amber, who went to get the supplies that she and Izzy had bought. Which left me standing in the half-finished motel room with Alloy, Raindrop, Murphy, and Roald. The five of us just looked at each other in silence for a moment, before I cleared my throat and moved over to the spot we had picked out for the hole. ¡°Okay, so let¡¯s see how this works. Here.¡± Extending my hand, I painted a pink circle onto the floor, about three feet wide. Then I stepped back and gestured for Alloy to go ahead.


    She, in turn, waved a couple of her marbles that way. They transformed into a pair of shovels, then shoved their way down into the pink floor. The effect of my paint extended down about ten inches, so they were able to easily pull up big pieces of the floor and some of the dirt beneath, all of it like¡­ thick foam or playdough. Very easy to rip away in solid chunks. Well, solid chunks for about five more seconds, before it turned back into a mix of dirt and broken pieces of cement.


    ¡°How often do you think you can do that before you have to take a break to recharge?¡± Raindrop asked, stepping over to look at the hole. ¡°For the actual tunnel, I mean.¡±


    Without thinking about it, I crouched down to run my hand over the dirt. ¡°If I¡¯m only doing that, and say the tunnel is¡­ let¡¯s say six feet high and four feet wide¡­ I¡¯ll probably need to take about sixty seconds to refill around every¡­ maybe fourth time? Depends on how quick we are about digging into it and pulling the dirt out of the way. Probably get more efficient as we go. You know, work out a rhythm. Maybe we can get to the point of timing our speed so I don¡¯t have to actually stop completely.¡±


    Roald spoke up, his voice curious. ¡°How do you know how much paint you have?¡±


    ¡°I¨C¡± My mouth opened, before I stopped, head tilting. ¡°I didn¡¯t used to. It was more of a whole, ¡®shit I¡¯ve used a lot of paint recently, I¡¯m about to run out.¡¯ But now I can just¡­ sort of sense it a bit? I know when I¡¯m low. I guess I¡¯ve just gotten better at estimating after using it for awhile?¡±


    ¡°Powers get better as you use them,¡± Raindrop informed us. ¡°Sometimes that comes as ¡®make them stronger¡¯ and sometimes it¡¯s things like knowing how much paint you have. When I started, I couldn¡¯t umm, I couldn¡¯t summon water. I mean, I could pull it and move it and stuff, but I couldn¡¯t summon it from somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Is that what you do?¡± That was Alloy. ¡°I always wondered why you weren¡¯t like, solving people¡¯s water problems all over the place. You don¡¯t make it out of nothing?¡±


    Raindrop shook her head. ¡°Nuh uh. It¡¯s pulled from other water sources. We did a test awhile back. The water I¡­ ¡®make¡¯ gets pulled from places like one of the lakes or rivers around here. Whichever one is closest. It¡¯s like¡­ it¡¯s like I can sense water in the air, you know? Humidity, I guess. And I can umm¡­ feel all the way through that humidity to big sources of water, and then I just¡­ think about it and put the big sources of water where the humidity right in front of me is.¡± Frowning, she sighed. ¡°I guess that doesn¡¯t make sense. But I can¡¯t think of a better way to explain it.¡±


    ¡°You did just fine,¡± I assured her. ¡°I mean, it makes about as much sense as a lot of powers do. They get pretty weird. Teleporting water to yourself through the connection of humidity in the air is about as good of an explanation as any.¡±


    By that point, Roald spoke up from the window where he had been idly watching. ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±


    He was right. A couple minutes later, both Pack¡¯s van and a truck that Way had apparently borrowed from someone were parked close to the room, the backs opened up so we could all carry the tools, lights, chains, and other supplies inside.


    ¡°Okay, I think we should focus on digging down and widening it out at the bottom enough to stick all this stuff down there,¡± I murmured. ¡°You know, so we don¡¯t just have all this sitting here in plain sight. I don¡¯t think anyone will come through the area tonight, but just in case.¡±


    So, we got started on that. And as we did, I took another look out through the window. The mall was visible in the distance. From here, it looked like way too much distance. It was definitely too far for me to do this by myself. I never would¡¯ve gotten anywhere near the place.


    But I wasn¡¯t by myself. Not anymore. I had people I could talk to, people who knew varying amounts of the truth. I had Amber and Izzy, who knew all of it. And I had Pack, Murphy, Roald, Alloy, even Wren and Fred. I had all of them here to help.


    I had¡­ friends.


    I had a team.

 Non-Canon 12 - Flea, Paintball, And Paige

    Needless to say, both Paintball and Flea had more than a few questions for Paige after she showed them that the ¡®people¡¯ she had been killing were really what amounted to cyborgs. Worse, cyborgs with no real personality or minds. According to her, they were essentially drones who followed the instructions from their creator. And their instructions at that moment were to stop (or even kill) Paige before she managed to complete her goal of destroying the warehouse. This warehouse, where her father¡¯s creations were made, and the main source of what power he still had within Detroit. She had to destroy it, and her father was hell-bent on making sure that didn¡¯t happen. Which meant sending every drone he had to the place. And now that both of the other girls had been seen in this place, they would be targets as well.


    All of which meant that, for the moment, all those questions would have to wait. The incoming drones weren¡¯t going to be nice and give the three girls time to talk about everything they needed to. They would have to put it aside and focus on surviving the next few minutes. And on helping Paige finish what she had come here for. It was the only way to stop the factory from producing an endless supply of the automatons.


    Despite just how much she was obviously reeling from confusion and a rush of questions, Flea immediately gave a short nod. ¡°Paintball, put your helmet back on. Paige, where--¡± In mid-sentence, she spun around, drawing one of her swords and throwing it in the same motion. The blade shot through the air before impaling one of the biolem drones straight through the head, pinning it against the nearby wall. It sent up a shower of sparks as the orb inside was cut in half.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Flea finished while taking a step that way to yank the sword free. ¡°Paige, where are we going? Let¡¯s move before more of these things show up.¡±


    Paintball, who had put the helmet on and adjusted it, stared at the biolem as it slumped to the floor once the sword was removed. Her voice was a bit weak, after seeing just how instantly the Conservator Star-Touched had reacted to the drone¡¯s entrance. And what that reaction had been. ¡°I guess it¡¯s a good thing you guys choose not to be lethal most of the time.¡±


    Paige, meanwhile, was already pivoting to stride quickly toward the opposite side of the room full of computers. ¡°We have to get to the main server! That¡¯s the only place where I can plug in and tell the whole place to self-destruct. And¡­ and when I do, I¡¯m gonna be helpless. I have to shut down my body to get into the system. Which--¡±


    Cassidy grabbed the other girl¡¯s arm, blurting, ¡°Did you say plug in? Shut your body down? You mean¡­¡± She exchanged a quick glance with Flea, whose expression was hidden by her own mask.


    Stopping by that doorway as she faced the person who had once been one of her only friends, Paige hesitated before giving a short nod. Her voice softened slightly from what it had been a moment earlier. ¡°Cassie,¡± she managed, ¡°If we get through this, I¡¯ll explain. I--everything. I¡¯ll explain everything, but--¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s for later,¡± Flea interrupted. She was already moving past them, checking the hallway ahead with a sword in each hand. ¡°And believe me, there will be a later, for all three of us. So lead the way. Paintball and I will cover you while you do what you need to. And then we¡¯re all getting out of here together.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got questions, and if you think I¡¯m gonna let you get out of answering them by sacrificing yourself to blow this place up, you¡¯ve got another thing coming.¡±


    ******


    So, they kept moving. Paige led the other two to the main server room. The system had already tried to protect itself by slamming the vault door shut, but Paintball showed the other two exactly how her pink paint worked, and they quickly put a hole in it big enough for Paige to work her way through. Which left Paintball and Flea outside to deal with the incoming drones.


    And deal with them they did. Any hesitation Cassidy might have had when it came to killing what looked like normal human beings was not shared by her older and more experienced companion. While Flea¡¯s ability to drain the health and stamina from living beings didn¡¯t appear to do much to the biolems, her enhanced speed and strength matched with the sheer skill she wielded her swords with made her more than a match for any of the drones by herself. And when Paintball added a few shots of her enhancement paint into the mix, the biolems didn¡¯t stand a chance. They were woefully unprepared for the grinder they were walking into, given what a terror to behold a Flea with boosted strength and speed was.


    But the drones also weren¡¯t stopping. They kept pouring through the corridor no matter how many of them were killed. They were, quite literally, mindlessly attacking in a rush to stop Paige from completing her mission. Again and again, they charged toward the vault door. And again and again, they were cut down.


    Finally, the blonde girl pushed her way out of the server room, landing lightly on her feet before looking at the pile of bodies that littered the floor. Her voice was terse. ¡°We need to go, now. I gave us plenty of time to get out, but--¡±


    In mid-sentence, a series of deafeningly loud clangs filled the air, as thick steel doors slammed into place throughout the facility, including right in front of them.


    ¡°He won¡¯t let us leave,¡± Paige whispered, her voice stricken. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s locked everything down. He can¡¯t shut off the self-destruct, but he can trap us in here.¡± She had been¡­ not fine, but at least accepting of the plan to sacrifice herself in order to stop her father¡¯s plan. Resigned to it after years of attempting to find another way. But the thought of losing not only her own life, but that of these two as well, was too much. The thought of leading Cassidy and Irelyn both to their deaths with this mission made her freeze up. She wasn¡¯t angry, she wasn¡¯t sad, she wasn¡¯t¡­ anything. She couldn¡¯t be anything at that moment.


    Empty. The thought made her empty.


    Fortunately, Flea was not so-frozen. ¡°Paige!¡± She snapped. ¡°We¡¯re not done yet. Paintball, put a hole in that door, we¡¯re getting out of here. How much time?¡± She added that with a quick glance to her adopted sister while Paintball immediately began to spray a pink circle against the steel door that was blocking them.


    ¡°I--¡± Shaking herself violently, Paige shoved her moment of panic and grief aside. Anthony. She had been thinking of Anthony just then. The prospect of losing these two brought up that memory. But Irelyn was right. They weren¡¯t dead yet. They just had to move. ¡°Seven minutes! We¡¯ve got seven minutes, and-- and a lot of doors between us and any way out of here.¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s stop wasting time,¡± Flea replied while rearing back to slam her foot into the pink circle that Paintball had made. Her powers enhanced her arm strength somewhat. But they enhanced her leg strength to the point that she was able to leap dozens of feet into the air. That single kick was enough to knock out the entire section that had been painted. ¡°Go!¡±


    They went. Paige scrambled through the hole first, before the sound of a brief struggle on the other side filled the air. It was so brief, in fact, that by the time Paintball managed to push through and landed in the next room, the drone was dead on the floor with Paige standing over it, knife in hand. She gave Cassidy a quick glance, but said nothing before jogging toward the far end of the room. There was nothing to say. Not yet. Not until they were safely out of this place.


    Flea joined them even as Cassidy started to move after Paige, and the three quickly continued onward. Together, they worked their way back through the facility to the nearest exterior wall. Drone after drone, door after door, they kept going. With Flea¡¯s help, it took only four minutes to find a wall. Unfortunately, even as the timer ticked into the final three minutes, another problem presented itself.


    ¡°Forcefield!¡± Paige shouted, after they had ripped out the pink-painted spot of the wall. They were all faced with the glowing energy shield. ¡°He¡­ he put a forcefield around the building!¡±


    ¡°Move,¡± Flea ordered while drawing one of her swords once more. As the other two got out of the way, she ran her thumb over a hidden switch on the weapon¡¯s hilt. Instantly, the blade began to hum, as a series of greenish-blue electrical sparks played over it. With a grunt, she shoved the weapon against the shield. There was a brief series of bright flashes, before the barrier blocking their escape faded.


    ¡°What?¡± the woman replied as the two younger girls stared at her briefly. ¡°You think it¡¯s the first time someone tried to stop me with a forcefield?¡± Checking something on the hilt of the sword, she grimaced. ¡°Won¡¯t overload it for long!¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She didn¡¯t have to say anything else. Paige was already yanked Cassidy by the arm, hauling her to the hole. Without another word, she simply unceremoniously shoved the other girl through to the other side before pivoting to the older woman. ¡°Your turn!¡±


    ¡°You first,¡± Irelyn retorted. When Paige¡¯s mouth opened, she interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m your big sister, do as you¡¯re told!¡±


    For a moment that seemed to last forever, Paige stopped short. She stared that way, the woman¡¯s words cutting through every denial or argument she could possibly have made. And in the end, she pivoted and dove through the hole. Landing on the pavement beyond, she was helped to her feet by Cassidy, before both of them stepped aside as Flea hauled herself through.


    ¡°Forty-five seconds!¡± Paige snapped, hands already grabbing the other two by the arms as she started to run.


    That lasted for all of a few steps before Flea caught both of them around the waists, braced herself, and leapt. The lunge wasn''t as far as she could get by herself without being weighed down, but it still carried them a good sixty feet forward. Another lunge took them another sixty, and they were out to the street beyond the parking lot. The woman gathered herself once more, adjusted her grip on her charges, and launched upward over a hundred feet to land on the roof of the building across the street.


    Only then did she release the two, shoving them down while dropping herself with a snapped, ¡°Shield your eyes!¡±


    They all did so, dropping their gazes to the roof while covering their heads. No sooner had they done that, then a terrifyingly loud explosion filled the air. It sounded and felt, even from their distant position, as though the fist of an enraged god had slammed down into the Earth. When they looked up, half of the warehouse was completely gone, aside from a few pieces of it that littered the surrounding area. The other half was in flames. It was clear that, when he had set up the self-destruct system, Paige¡¯s father had wanted to make absolutely certain that nothing could be recovered if he ever had reason to set it off. And, most likely, had wanted to catch the people responsible for forcing him to that end in the blast.


    The police and fire siren sounds started almost immediately, while the three girls were still lying there staring at the burning building. Those sounds were enough to make Flea snap out of her moment of distraction, pushing herself up. ¡°We can¡¯t be found here,¡± she immediately announced. ¡°Come on.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you just want to leave?¡± Paintball managed, voice a bit weak.


    ¡°Paige,¡± Flea quickly demanded, ¡°You said there was no one else but those biolems in there, or anywhere near the warehouse?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no one,¡± the girl confirmed.


    Flea nodded once. ¡°Good. Then yes, we leave. Let the fire department put out the flames. If we¡¯re found here, there¡¯ll be too many questions.¡± Pausing briefly, she gave Paige a look before adding pointedly, ¡°And quite frankly, I want to be the one asking questions right now.¡±


    Paige and Cassidy exchanged brief glances, before the latter gestured. ¡°You¡¯re right, we shouldn¡¯t be found here. For more reasons than you think.


    ¡°And trust me, you¡¯re definitely not the only one with questions.¡±


    *****


    So, the three of them left the sound of sirens behind, moving across the top of the buildings until they reached an area far from the scene of the burning warehouse remains. Soon, they stopped outside of a rooftop greenhouse that was mostly hidden from view of the nearby freeway thanks to a large billboard. It was about as much privacy as they could hope for at the moment.


    Still, Cassidy looked around only briefly before focusing on Flea. ¡°What about your car? We left it in the parking lot back there, if they find--¡±


    Lifting a hand to point over the edge of the building they were on, the woman interrupted with a simple, ¡°Look down there.¡±


    Cassidy did so, and saw the car in question sitting below, parked in one of the nearby spaces.


    ¡°Autopilot,¡± Flea informed her with a small smile that was revealed even as she reached up to tug off her mask. ¡°I sent it away as soon as it was obvious that we were gonna have to come out hot. Figured we wouldn¡¯t have time to stop for it. And wouldn¡¯t want to be at street level anyway.¡±


    ¡°Man,¡± Cassidy remarked, ¡°you guys get all the cool toys.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, Flea replied, ¡°That''s funny, coming from a girl who could get any toy in the world just by asking for it. And speaking of which.¡± She gestured toward both of them, hand moving back and forth. ¡°Which one of you wants to start explaining some of this?¡±


    Reaching up to remove her borrowed helmet once more, Cassidy hesitated, glancing toward the girl beside her. ¡°Well, obviously I don¡¯t know the whole thing. Your video said some of it, but biolems? And you¡­ you¡¯re¡­¡±


    Paige, in turn, gave a long, low exhale. ¡°Okay. Cassidy, this is Irelyn. Like I said, she¡¯s the Banners¡¯... she¡¯s my sister. Irelyn, this is Cassidy. Paintball. We-- we used to be friends. Back before I was¡­ adopted. Back when--¡± She cut herself off, clearly attempting to find the right words before finally settling on. ¡°Let me start at the beginning. With a man named Benjamin Pittman, and his daughter, Roxanne.


    So, over the next few minutes, she gave both of them a fairly quick-yet-informative explanation of where she had come from. She told them about how Benjamin Pittman was a Tech-Touched focused on biological manipulation and cybernetics, how he had created those orbs to house people¡¯s minds and personalities, their consciousnesses, after losing his wife. He had been so obsessed with never allowing anyone to die again that he created his ¡®Project Owl¡¯ (Organic Wonderwork Legacy) in order to functionally create immortality. Except he believed that he was the person who should decide who would obtain that immortality, while everyone else would be seen as¡­ disposable. He envisioned a brand new world, full of immortal people whose minds were housed in those orbs, who could swap in and out of any bodies they wished. A noble goal, aside from his additional vision of himself as the unquestionable and unassailable dictatorial leader of such a world. That part was¡­ problematic, to say the least.


    Of course, the explanation of who Paige¡¯s father was and what he wanted inevitably led to the question of who his enemies were. Which was an explanation that Cassidy quickly took up, giving her own story of what had happened to make her find out the truth about her family and what they did. After only a momentary hesitation, she told Irelyn exactly what her own father really did, including his alternate identity. When she found out that he was secretly Silversmith, the woman recoiled in surprise. A dozen different questions jumped it to her mind, but she pressed her lips tightly together and nodded for the girl to continue.


    So, she did. Cassidy explained everything she could, with Paige jumping in now and then to answer a little more. Soon, Irelyn had a fairly detailed picture of what was really going on in the city. And it was far more than she could have reasonably thought. Despite all of her experience, she still had to raise a hand once they were done and ask for a minute. Then she stepped away and stared up at the sky while cracking her knuckles thoughtfully. She said nothing, remaining silently contemplative as she let herself absorb all of that.


    Which left Paige and Cassidy standing a bit away, looking at one another. The blonde girl was the first to speak. ¡°I know¡­ I did too much to--¡± She cut herself off, face contorting slightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. My father, the orders he¡­ it¡¯s not something I--¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± Cassidy interrupted. ¡°Paige, I-- I don¡¯t know how easy it''s going to be for me not to look at you and see everything you said and did. But, I get it. I know why you had to do that. It doesn''t exactly make it easy to shove all out the window and forget it. I can¡¯t forget it. But I can forgive it. It just might take me some time to not have¡­ impulsive thoughts whenever I see you.¡± Offering the girl a somewhat awkward half-smile, she shrugged. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s fair,¡± Paige agreed. She folded her arms self-consciously. ¡°It''s been a busy few years, and I''ve filled them with a lot of things I''d rather forget. I didn¡¯t really ever think that I¡¯d get to this point. I tried to think of ways around what I thought I had to do. I had one idea about reprogramming one of the drones and having it blow up the building without me. But they don''t have that ability. It would be like trying to reprogram a computer by plugging a toaster into it. I mean, I could have made it a pretty motivated and enthusiastic toaster, but still.¡±


    ¡°You were going to sacrifice yourself to take out your father¡¯s manufacturing plant and hub, or whatever,¡± Cassidy murmured thoughtfully before focusing on the girl. ¡°But what would have happened after that? You¡¯d be dead, and he wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d be stuck on Breakwater,¡± Paige replied. ¡°That building back there was basically his hail mary. Everything was inside it. Without that, he¡¯s¡­ stuck there.¡± She gave a grim smile of satisfaction. ¡°And he can rot there.¡±


    ¡°You really don¡¯t like your dad,¡± Cassidy noted.


    Before Paige could respond to that, Irelyn spoke up, turning to face them. ¡°What about your other dad? He--our parents¡­ I know they--¡± She cut herself off and sighed. ¡°I know they bought you. But what--what happened to them? Where are they now?¡±


    Paige offered a helpless shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I swear. My father had the staff replaced with biolems over the past couple months, and they were responsible for making sure your parents weren¡¯t around for the party and¡­ and what was supposed to happen during it.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Irelyn replied, ¡°I guess we have to find them then, don¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Cassidy put in hesitantly. ¡°I mean, about everything, all of this. What I¡­ what we told you.¡±


    ¡°Nothing yet,¡± was the answer. ¡°If you''re right about all this stuff you''ve been talking about, and I think you are, then this isn''t something that can be rushed. We have no idea who else is working for them, or in some other way compromised. My contacts are here in the city, and any of them could work for your family, even if they don¡¯t know it. I want to say the people I trust wouldn¡¯t do that, but you know what? I obviously didn¡¯t know anything about this whole Ministry business. I was clueless about all of it. So, the last thing I''m going to do is say, ¡®hey, this decades-old criminal conspiracy to run the entire city that I just found out about five minutes ago? I know exactly who we can trust not to be a part of that.¡¯¡± After getting all that out, she put one hand on each of their shoulders. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out, I promise. You¡¯re not alone in this, not anymore. But we have to be careful. We have to take our time. And right now, the most important thing is getting to the bottom of where our mom and dad are.¡± She added that last bit with a look toward Paige. ¡°So why don¡¯t we start with that. We find our parents.


    ¡°Because I, for one, have a few choice words for them.¡±

 Interlude 20A - Jolene Iverson

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you guys, I really don¡¯t think this is necessary at all.¡± As the tall, red-haired woman said those words, she was striding out of an elevator into the below-ground parking garage of one of the local news stations, flanked on both sides and followed by several figures. ¡°Don¡¯t you have better things to do? Actually, scratch that. I¡¯m a reporter. I know you have better things to do. So, why don¡¯t you go ahead and focus on one of those other things. I¡¯ll be fine. The report went out over the air days ago.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Ms. Iverson.¡± The apology came from the man on her left. He was a fairly short guy at just a hair over five foot five. In his late twenties, the Latino figure who wore somewhat baggy, loose-fitting gray pants that allowed him to move quite well, with a sleeveless black shirt that had a faded gray Ten Towers logo (a ten-pointed star around the skyline of the city they were a part of, Detroit in this case) on the front, spiked wristbands, combat boots, and a bandana-like mask that left the lower half of his face, and his long dark hair, uncovered. ¡°With the threat on your life, we have orders to escort you straight to the Plaza.¡±


    The Plaza, in this case, was their term for the headquarters of Ten Towers in Detroit, where the main three towers themselves were located. It was also a thought that made Jolene Iverson grimace, head shaking. ¡°Come on, Stick. I get threats all the time. All reporters do. Especially the ones who talk about Touched stuff. That¡¯s why we use these.¡± She pointedly withdrew a small black box that fit within the palm of her hand, with a single silver button on it. To demonstrate, she pushed her thumb against that button and stopped walking. As she did so, there was a shimmer of energy in the air, and the woman abruptly looked quite different. Her long red hair had shortened and turned blond. Various features of her face had shifted around, eye shape widening slightly, nose turning up and narrowing, skin color itself darkening just a bit as though she had much more of a tan, and so forth. Within a few seconds, she looked like a completely different person other than the specific height. ¡°Tell me exactly how someone who saw this person give a report about the identities of Pencil and Cup is going to be mistaken for¨C¡± She hit the button again, returning to her normal appearance. ¡°¨Cthis person? The entire point of using the Incogniter and false names is so that none of those psychopaths out there know what the people reporting on them actually look like. At least, that¡¯s how it was sold to me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the general idea,¡± Stick confirmed, watchful eyes glancing around as they stood in the parking garage. ¡°But when there¡¯s a specific threat, we have to take it seriously. Our boss told us the intel they picked up was detailed enough that there is a concern for your safety. So she told us to come here and escort you straight to the plaza while she and Skip check out the source. Once they determine whether the threat is real or not, they¡¯ll decide how soon you can leave.¡± With a shrug, he added, ¡°It¡¯s in your contract. Your station is a subsidiary of Ten Towers. When there¡¯s a threat like this, we have to deal with it. And you have to let us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the person on her right-hand side put in. ¡°Believe me, Caishen would be super-pissed if we let you go off on your own. And quite frankly, she¡¯s scarier than you are.¡±


    Glancing that way, Jolene took in the male form. Well, male for the moment anyway. Ephemera wore a costume that was just as simple as Stick¡¯s, amounting to red pants with matching shoes, a white turtleneck, and a white ski mask with red trim. A belt around their waist held two pistols, a knife, and a collapsible baton.


    Jolene exhaled. A part of her still wanted to argue, but there was little point. They were right. Ten Towers held ultimate authority over the station she worked for, and if Caishen said there was a real threat, nothing Jolene could say would change anyone¡¯s mind. Finally, she settled on, ¡°Okay, fine. I get it. Believe me, if there¡¯s actually a threat, I have no desire to face it myself.¡± She put the Incogniter back in her pocket. ¡°But do we really need five of you?¡± Turning a bit, she gestured to the three figures who had been trailing behind. ¡°Five Touched just to protect me?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not so much to protect you as it is to catch them,¡± came the casual reply from one of those figures. He was a decidedly taller man than Stick, standing about six foot two. None of his skin was exposed, as he wore long black pants, heavy boots, a dark blue shirt under a white trench coat, and a blue helmet that had no visible visor. Instead, the front was covered by the white insignia of a crosshair. Jolene had absolutely no idea how he saw out of that thing.


    ¡°Linesight,¡± Stick chastised slightly with a look that way.


    ¡°What?¡± The other man offered a shrug. ¡°I didn¡¯t say we wanted anything bad to happen to her. But she¡¯s right, all of us being here would be overkill to protect a single person from some vague threat. We¡¯re here just in case there¡¯s a chance to catch any of the Scions, and you know it. She knows it. We all know it. She reported on Cup and Pencil¡¯s real identities. Even if those two are laying low, any other Scions could be out there looking to impress their bosses by making an example out of her. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here, and why Caishen and Skip took a whole contingent of Towers security to check out the apartment they traced that phone call to. It¡¯s common sense. Ain¡¯t that right, Bungle?¡±


    Beside him, a young woman gave a quick, hurried nod. Her costume consisted of a black bodysuit with purple highlights along the legs and arms, along with the Ten Towers logo, also in purple, across the front. She also wore purple gloves and boots, along with a cape that was black on the outside and purple on the inside, with a connected matching hood that rose up over her head. Under the hood, her head was encased in a black helmet with a large purple visor, which covered the entirety of her face from chin to just above her eyes. The visor appeared to be made of glass, but was actually quite durable to the point of being bulletproof.


    As the woman known to the public as Bunglebotch put it, considering how goofy and uncoordinated her power made her look, the very least she could do was have a cool costume. Besides, she found it infinitely more amusing to show up to a place and make people think they were about to see something incredibly cool and inspiring before, in her own words, ¡®drastically disappointing them.¡¯


    Yet despite her self-disparaging words, Bunglebotch loved her Touched gift. It was a power which allowed her to accomplish essentially any physical task any human being was capable of with enough training and skill. But doing so would always appear to be a completely uncoordinated, comical accident. She could perform incredible athletic stunts of hand to hand combat, acrobatics, sharpshooting, piloting, parkour, and more, yet anyone watching her do so would swear she was about to kill herself simply by taking a step. Watching her in action was akin to viewing an old slapstick-style movie, or even cartoon. She would constantly appear to be tripping, sliding, slipping, stumbling, accidentally yanking down curtains, and more in the course of a simple chase. But no matter how uncoordinated her actions seemed to be, they always accomplished her task and left her relatively unharmed.


    The gift extended beyond uncoordinated-looking-yet-incredible physical prowess as well. Simply by focusing on a single person, Bungle could force that person to comically fail at any physical task they were attempting to accomplish at the time, regardless of how trivial it was. Including simply taking a step, sitting down in a chair, or tearing a sheet of paper in half. That last one she had demonstrated to great effect on a particularly annoying middle management type who annoyed her one day. He ended up giving himself a fat lip.


    ¡°Uh huh, uh huh,¡± Bungle agreed with Linesight. ¡°No offense, Miss Iverson, but yeah. We¡¯re definitely supposed to try to catch at least one of those Scions. The boss-lady thinks they might try something stupid because they¡¯re so pissed off right now. You¡¯re a visible target for them to take their anger out on, you know? Even if you do have that disguise thing, which is super-duper cool by the way, they might still figure out who you are. You know, by having an inside person or something. But if they do try something, we¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°And the Minority kid?¡± Jolene asked, focusing on the fifth and final person who had been accompanying her as he stood a bit back from the others. ¡°What¡¯s he doing here?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Whamline?¡± Stick waved a hand. ¡°He¡¯s here for a ridealong.¡± A ridealong, as it was called, was simply when one of the younger Star-Touched would accompany an adult team, both for some on-the-job training, and to see how they got along with the team. And, of course, how the team got along with them. It helped everyone involved decide where the young Touched should go once they were of age. ¡°Technically it wasn¡¯t supposed to be until next week, but he has a¡­ thing?¡±


    ¡°School project,¡± Whamline replied with a shrug before adding a bit apologetically, ¡°I¡¯ve been getting behind a little bit, and they don¡¯t like that.¡± With a low whistle, he added, ¡°They really don¡¯t like it.¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°I remember school,¡± Bungle noted. ¡°School sucked.¡± As Linesight nudged her pointedly, she gestured defensively. ¡°What? I¡¯m pretty sure he knows that already. I mean, come on, he already said he was behind.¡± The continued pointed stare made her protest, ¡°What¡¯d I say?¡±


    Clearing his throat, Stick spoke up. ¡°Okay, speaking of ridealong, I think we can set a good example by keeping our attention on the task at hand.¡± With that, he looked at Jolene. ¡°Whamline, Linesight, and I will be with you in our van over here. In the back, please.¡±


    ¡°In the van?¡± Jolene started to protest. ¡°But my car¡¯s right there. What about¨C¡± She stopped then, as a flash nearby drew her attention to Ephemera. Or at least, where Ephemera had been. Their body had abruptly disintegrated to ashes, blowing away in the wind. A foot or so to the side, their new body had appeared. A body which looked completely identical to Jolene in every way. It was like looking into a mirror.


    Ephemera¡¯s power was, on the surface, somewhat similar to that of Baldur, leader of Armistice and the strongest Touched in the world. But where Baldur¡¯s power allowed them to shift their own body through various differently-powered versions of themselves and thus come up with practically any gift they needed, Ephemera was far more limited¡­ at least as far as powers went. With a thought, they were capable of making their current body disintegrate. At which point, they would reappear in a new body, which could be any age, sex, gender, and appearance they wished. Which included creating a new costume/set of clothes, though the materials for that would disintegrate once removed. Rather than having any powers they wanted, they could simply infuse the new body with any set of skills possessed by any person they had spent at least one hour with in the past. They often shifted rapidly throughout any given situation, going from an innocent-looking child who could walk through a crowded street without drawing attention, to a man with computer hacking skills to break into a secure building, to a woman with intense combat training to fight their way through that building. And so on. They could last within a single body for twenty-four hours, but very seldom went longer than an hour or so without changing. As they had to put it, staying in the same body with the same skills for too long made them feel antsy.


    ¡°Okay,¡± the reporter slowly murmured as her head shook. ¡°No offense, but that¡¯s really creepy.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± they replied. ¡°I¡¯ll be taking your car and playing human target.¡±


    Bunglebotch was already moving to the front passenger¡¯s side. ¡°Yeah, and I get to play bodyguard. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ve done this before. You¡¯d be surprised how many fancypants executives get their underoos in a twist and need us to run interference.¡±


    Before Jolene could (somewhat reluctantly) move to the unmarked van instead of her car, Linesight put a hand up to stop her, staring intently at a pair of glasses in his hand for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. ¡°It¡¯s set.¡± With that, he handed them to her.


    Realizing what the man had done, Jolene gave a soft gasp. Linesight¡¯s power allowed him to mark up to four different spots, including moving objects. Any person who looked at that spot or object, who wasn¡¯t included within a list of mental exceptions the man set at the time that he marked them, would be hit by a powerful concussive beam for as long as they looked at it.


    ¡°Keep the glasses on until we get to the plaza,¡± he instructed. ¡°They¡¯re only a last-second defense, but if shit actually goes down, you¡¯ll be glad you have them, believe me. And if worst comes to worst and you lose them¡­¡± He held up a coin, intently staring at that as well for a moment before passing it to her. ¡°Put that in your pocket. If you¡¯re in real trouble, wait for an opening, then hold that up and use it to get away.¡±


    Stick spoke up then. ¡°We don¡¯t expect to run into that much trouble, if any. But in this line of work, it¡¯s better to be overly prepared.¡± To Whamline, he added, ¡°You should probably make a note of that yourself. Always be prepared.¡±


    Whamline, for his part, gave a thumbs up. ¡°Be prepared, got it. Like that song from the Lion King.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Bunglebotch replied from the side of the car. ¡°Except for basically every word in it, and the fact that it¡¯s sung by a villain. But sure, just like that.¡±


    ¡°Still a good song,¡± Whamline murmured with a shrug, humming it to himself a bit as he moved to get in the back of the van.


    Jolene followed suit, with Stick getting in the back with the two of them. Linesight took the driver¡¯s seat, and they waited for Ephemera and Bunglebotch to pull out of the lot ahead of them before following suit a moment later. It would only be about a ten minute drive, and the woman found herself leaning back in the seat to look out the heavily tinted, and no doubt bulletproof, window as they progressed. She had actually driven this same route multiple times, going from the station to Ten Towers for interviews or the like. Despite her outward dismissal of the threat to her life, the woman was a bit nervous. Especially once they left the safety of the news station¡¯s parking garage. And yet, as they drove most of the route with no apparent issues, the anxiety that had started to rise up in her stomach quickly began to fade. In another couple of minutes, they would be at Ten Towers Plaza, and she could thank them for the help before finding someone in charge to insist she be given some space to do her work in for as long as this protection detail was supposed to last. Come to think of it, she needed to call Mrs. Morson, who lived in the apartment next door, and ask her to take poor Jitters the cat over to her place and feed him. He had to be yowling at the door by now, confused about why Jolene hadn¡¯t¨C


    ¡°Eph, on your left!¡± Linesight¡¯s voice suddenly bellowed a warning to Ephemera in the car ahead.


    Just as Jolene¡¯s gaze snapped that way to look through the front windshield, she saw a heavy pickup truck driving alongside her car swerve sideways in an attempt to ram into it. But Ephemera reacted too quickly, slowing the car and twisting it just out of reach as the truck went skidding past. Immediately, one of the men in the truck twisted to point a gun out the back window, opening fire. Yet he had only fired one or two shots before two pale blue beams of energy lashed out from the side of Jolene¡¯s car, slamming into the gunman and knocking him backward out of the truck, where he rolled and sprawled along the road.


    Linesight, Jolene realized that the Touched ahead of her had marked her car right then, even as another pair of beams lashed out toward a second gunman in the truck. Unfortunately, the vehicle swerved that time, and they missed.


    By that point, Ephemera had stopped the car, while Bunglebotch hopped out. As the truck spun around to come back to them, Bungle focused on him. Abruptly, the driver completely failed at the task of driving, sending the truck into a wild spin that ended with a violent slam into the nearby guard rail.


    Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the end of it, as men were already clambering out of the truck. Worse, there was another truck full of them coming up fast from behind the van. They all wore normal clothing, but everyone knew why they were here. Whether they were officially members of the Scions or just wannabes, they were there to impress Pencil and Cup by making an example of the reporter who had exposed their identities over the air.


    With the van stopped, Stick yanked the side door open, reaching down to grab a tire iron from the floor before hurling it out ahead of the oncoming truck. In mid-air, the man used his power to make things he touched stay where they were put no matter what force was exerted on them. The tire iron abruptly froze, just as the truck¡¯s front left tire slammed into it. Instantly, the tire was demolished from hitting the immobile object at that speed, and the truck went spinning wildly out of control.


    Hopping out of the van, Stick shouted back to Linesight. ¡°Get Iverson to the Plaza, go!¡± Then he produced an extendable metal staff from his belt, snapped it out to full length, and ran toward the second truck.


    Without wasting another second, Linesight hit the gas, accelerating around the stopped vehicles while shouting, ¡°You two get down back there. Stay down! Whamline, cover her!¡±


    Obliging immediately, the Minority hero quickly apologized before pushing Jolene to the floor as he crouched beside her in the narrow space between seats. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Miss,¡± he assured her in a tense voice, ¡°we¡¯re almost there.¡±


    He was right, she knew. They were less than a minute away from the Ten Towers headquarters. In another few seconds, they¡¯d be safe. Part of her was still reeling from the fact that she had actually been attacked. There had been so many false alarms and fake threats over the years that a group of people actually, truly trying to kill her was¨C


    Something hit the truck. Or¡­ or exploded the truck. All she knew was that there was a sudden deafening boom, her vision went blindingly white, and she had the sensation of the van flying. Or falling. Something hit the side of her head, then the back of her head. Spinning. The van was flipping over and over, crashing along the ground. Then everything went dark.


    Seconds, or possibly minutes later, the woman blinked her eyes open blearily. She was lying on the sidewalk somewhere beyond the van, where she had been thrown. The vehicle itself was on its side, the slumped figure of Linesight barely visible through the shattered windshield. Not that she could make out any details. Her vision was still fuzzy, fading in and out.


    She did, however, see the figure walking purposefully toward her. Immediately, she shifted so they would face the glasses Linesight had marked. Unfortunately, only then did the woman realize the glasses were actually gone, having flown off her face at some point in all of that.


    The blurry figure was right in front of her, even as she remembered the coin in her pocket. With fumbling fingers, she yanked it out and held the coin up.


    Nothing happened. No, did it¨Cdid it only work if Linesight was conscious? What¨C


    Finally, her eyes focused on the figure who had been standing over her. ¡°Wait¡­ oh.¡± It was so hard to talk. Something was wrong with her throat, and her stomach had twisted itself into knots. ¡°You¡­ help¡­¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± came the flat response, even as the figure raised their hand. A pistol was gripped in it, aimed that way. ¡°But I did this whole thing to impress Cup, and I can¡¯t stop now.¡±


    With that, the figure pulled the trigger, and Jolene Iverson would never think of anything else again.


    ¡°I mean, come on, can you blame me?¡± Whamline finished while lowering the gun. ¡°She¡¯s so hot.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 13

    Shortly Before 20-06


    He was definitely being watched. Ryder Towling knew that much even as he stepped out of his car, parked in front of the Fosters¡¯ house. Of course, he could have said as much before ever coming into Sherwood territory. Everyone knew how the gang operated. Feeling eyes on him as he closed his door and walked around to open the back was hardly surprising. It took a lot of effort for him to resist the urge to look around. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he grabbed his satchel from the backseat, hoisted it over his shoulder, and closed the door.


    Yes, there were definitely plenty of eyes on him. Which was why he had to be very careful not to let anyone know the real reason he was here. Or anything about his other identity. Something told him that if the Sherwood people found out that he had any connection to another gang, let alone that he was Eits, someone who primarily used their hated technology, they wouldn¡¯t be too happy. He might not even get a chance to explain the situation.


    And even if he did get that chance, what would he say? Was he supposed to tell them that he had been repaying a favor to a secret organization that had helped him¡­ become who he really was inside, and had actually kept information they probably didn¡¯t want him to have? Information which revealed that Cup and Pencil were desperately trying to find someone who had been adopted years earlier. Someone who now lived in Sherwood territory, in this house. Errol Fosters.


    The Fosters themselves shouldn¡¯t even have been living in this area. The family was rich specifically thanks to a business involving transporting technology. Ryder had no idea how they managed to convince the Sherwood people to leave them alone. It was one of many questions he had about this whole situation. Some of which he might even be able to get answers to.


    As he walked away from his car and approached the front door, the boy asked himself for about the thousandth time why he didn¡¯t just go to Blackjack, explain everything he knew, and ask for help. Seriously, what was he doing here? He wasn¡¯t a fighter. He was a behind-the-scenes sort of guy. And he sure as hell wasn¡¯t some sort of secret agent James Bond type. If he ran into trouble here, deep in another gang¡¯s territory, what was he going to do?


    It was stupid. Not asking for help was stupid, the whole thing was stupid. Yet something made him stop every time he thought about going to Blackjack. He had no idea what that whole situation was, how close his boss was to the people who had helped him. For fuck¡¯s sake, they had helped him, so he didn¡¯t even know for certain why he wasn¡¯t going straight to them with this, or just letting them handle it. He just¡­ he couldn¡¯t explain it. He owed them so much, but he wasn¡¯t blind to possible problems.


    He needed to find out more about what was going on, why the Scions wanted to find this kid so much, why his family was living here of all places given what they did for a living, what¨Call of it. He just had to be careful and find out as much as possible before he made any real decisions. Because once he told anyone about what he knew, there would be no going back.


    With that thought firmly in mind, the boy reached out to push the doorbell. Here went nothing. If this whole thing went wrong, he was totally going to tell himself that he had said so.


    He only had to wait a few seconds after pressing the button for the bell before hearing the sound of several deadbolts and chains being unlocked. Finally, the door was pulled open, and he found himself looking at a beautiful, tall blonde girl who was probably incredibly popular at her school. She wasn¡¯t exactly his type, but he could tell at a glance that the girl was accustomed to being ogled. More than accustomed, she expected it, pausing there with the door open and a knowing smirk on her face. ¡°Hey there,¡± she greeted him, looking the boy up and down. ¡°Arleigh Fosters. You my new college prep buddy?¡±


    Yes, this was how he had decided to get into the house and find out more about Errol. Searching through posts from the family online, he had found out that they were looking for a tutor, and a little bit of electronic trickery thanks to his little Mites meant that he was given the job. He still wasn¡¯t sure how he was going to go from working with the girl to learning exactly what was going on with Errol, but at least this gave him a foot in the door. He had even gone through the trouble of making some fake business cards for his supposed services, as well as giving himself a mixture of reviews online. Most good, a few middling based on personality differences, even a couple bad ones. He¡¯d wanted it to look as realistic as possible.


    ¡°Ryder Towling,¡± he confirmed, extending a hand reflexively even while berating himself for the gesture inwardly. ¡°It¡¯s uhh, nice to meet you.¡±


    Gazing briefly at his hand as though trying to decide how to react, Arleigh finally offered a very faint, somewhat amused smile before reaching out to gently squeeze it. She didn¡¯t exactly shake his hand as much as¡­ grasp the back of it briefly, but at least she didn¡¯t leave him hanging entirely.


    With that, she pivoted and beckoned. ¡°Come on in. Dad¡¯s back in his office, and my little brother hasn¡¯t gotten home yet. My big brother¡­ who the fuck cares, he¡¯s not here, that¡¯s what matters. Are you hungry? Carol¡¯s probably still in the kitchen.¡± Without waiting for a response, she raised her voice to call, ¡°Carol, bring some snacks up to my room! Something fun!¡±


    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s okay, I¨C¡± Stopping himself from objecting too much, Ryder shifted his focus to the other thing the girl had said. ¡°Your room? I mean, you want to go up there to study?¡±


    Giving him a light, clearly teasing glance, Arleigh replied, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll leave the door open. For now.¡± With that, she pivoted, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she walked to the nearby stairs and began to ascend. The way she walked made it clear that she wanted him to watch her. This was a girl accustomed to having everyone in a room be attracted to her. More than that, she encouraged it. Which¡­ was kind of cool for her, actually. He wasn¡¯t interested, at least not beyond the obvious biological sense. But still, he wasn¡¯t going to fault her for owning it. She seemed, well, certainly not modest in any sense of the word, but sociable enough so far.


    Shaking off those thoughts, he followed her up the stairs. Spending several long seconds trying to think of a casual way to bring it up, he finally settled on a simple, ¡°So you¡¯ve got two brothers, huh?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± the girl replied without looking back. ¡°One younger, one older.¡± She paused by an open door and gestured. ¡°That¡¯s Errol¡¯s room. My little brother. He should be home soon, but you know, if he bugs us too much I¡¯ll just throw shit at him until he leaves. It¡¯s usually not hard to make him fuck off. Micah¡¯s the one that¡¯s the real pain in the ass.¡±


    They had reached what was obviously her bedroom by that point, as the door was shut and had a big whiteboard hung on it with the words, ¡®Stay The Fuck Out Micah¡¯ written on it. Before opening the door, Arleigh spoke clearly. ¡°Xanah, disable the alarm on my door, code Eulogy Kermit Piggy Grover.¡±


    After a brief pause, a female voice coming from a nearby speaker acknowledged, ¡°Alarm disabled, Miss Fosters. Have a pleasant afternoon.¡±


    ¡°You put an alarm on your door?¡± Ryder asked, raising an eyebrow.


    With a snort, the girl pulled it open. ¡°Like I said, Micah¡¯s a pain in the ass. And I mean that with a capital P and A. I can¡¯t give him any opening.¡±


    This all felt¡­ like a very awkward and strange house to live in. But Ryder pushed those thoughts aside for the moment, following the girl into her quite large bedroom. He was pretty sure the place was bigger than his whole apartment, actually. She had her own bathroom, accessible only through this room, with what looked like a full whirlpool tub inside, and a separate enclosed shower. The bed itself, on the opposite side of the room from the entrance to the bathroom, was big enough for about six people to sleep on, yet it didn¡¯t even take up half the room.


    Looking around briefly, he finally stepped over to where the desk with her computer was. There were already a couple chairs there. ¡°But you ahh, you don¡¯t think your other brother¡¯s such a pain?¡±


    Shrugging, Arleigh replied, ¡°He¡¯s little, I can kick his ass. I mean, I can kick Micah¡¯s ass too, sometimes. It just¨C¡± She stopped, seeming to consider her words once more before simply finishing with, ¡°Micah can go fuck himself. Errol¡¯s not bad. Annoying sometimes, but¡­ you know, not a big deal.¡±


    Looking to a picture on the wall, Ryder stepped that way. ¡°This them?¡± He focused on the younger boy in the photo, who looked nothing like the other two. He was little and scrawny, with glasses and a very awkward appearance.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s my brothers,¡± Arleigh confirmed with a dismissive roll of her eyes. ¡°But come on, you¡¯re not here to tutor them, remember? Micah¡¯s already in college and Errol¡¯s like, really smart anyway. He¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Turning away from the picture, Ryder started to step over that way, when a sight through the nearby window made him pause. ¡°Someone just pulled in.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Arleigh jumped to her feet, moving next to him to look out. ¡°If Micah¡¯s back already, I swear¨Coh. Hey, that¡¯s Cassidy.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Cassidy?¡± Ryder looked again. There was a small girl behind the wheel of the car. From that distance, she looked pretty, in a way much more understated than Arleigh¡¯s in-your-face hotness. Her hair was cut short on one side and long on the other, with pink-tinted bangs. Standing at the window, he found himself staring intently that way before noticing the older man sitting next to her, and the two kids in the backseat. Including a very familiar sight. The boy whose picture he had just been looking at, and who was the very reason he was here.


    ¡°Cassidy Evans, she¡¯s the one driving, next to her dad,¡± Arleigh announced, already pivoting to head for the door. ¡°And that¡¯s Errol in the back. Come on, let¡¯s say hi. We can get to the tutoring thing in a minute.¡±


    Well, that was strange. She was really eager to run downstairs and greet this Cassidy. Even as he followed her, Ryder asked himself why that would be. Did she have a crush on the girl or something?


    Forget it, that didn¡¯t matter. Whatever her deal with the Evans girl was¨Cwait, that Evans girl? The realization struck him suddenly, making the boy stop briefly. He had¡­ never thought that¨Cokay he hadn¡¯t really put a lot of thought into what Sterling and Elena Evans¡¯ daughter would look like, but from that brief glimpse he¡¯d gotten, that wasn¡¯t it. She¡­ wow.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Shaking that off, he told himself to focus on being pleasant and getting through this whole thing. Then he could try to push for more information about Errol, maybe even talk to the boy himself a bit if an opportunity presented itself.


    After all, he was here for answers, and he probably wouldn¡¯t get any by focusing on Cassidy Evans.


    *************


    Immediately After 20-09


    As the video call from her adopted little sister ended, Irelyn found herself staring at the phone in her hand. A wide assortment of thoughts were running through her mind, many of them involving a lot of curse words. Of course, the very first thing she did was hit the button to call the girl back, ready to launch into a diatribe about what exactly Paige thought she was doing. Unfortunately, though unsurprisingly, there was no response. The call went to an automatic voicemail after a few rings, and Irelyn left¡­ not quite (anywhere near) the full list of things she wanted to say in that moment, but enough to make it clear that she needed Paige to call her back immediately.


    Not that she expected that to work, of course. Paige was incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be. So, Irelyn turned away from the grocery store she had been about to walk into, thoughts of preparing dinner that evening completely gone in the moment. She called a different number while striding toward her car, sticking the bluetooth device in her ear to talk as the person on the other end picked up. ¡°Hazel? Yeah, listen, can you get hold of your brother for me? I need him to trace a phone number. Yes, I could go through the official system, but I don¡¯t want to for this. And you both owe me for making those introductions. Yeah, you guys love it here and you know it. Right, here¡¯s the number. Thanks, let me know what he comes up with.¡±


    Reading it off for the girl, Irelyn got into her car and started it up before realizing that she had no idea where she was driving. She had been in such a rush to move somewhere and feel like she was accomplishing something after that frustrating call from her sister that she had briefly forgotten that she had nowhere to move to just yet.


    Instead of pulling out and driving aimlessly, she took a moment to replay everything that had been said on the phone. Then she paused, a frown touching her face. Paige had stopped her from bringing up the fact that she was Touched, that she was a member of the Conservators. Irelyn had been about to remind the girl that she had experience with this sort of danger specifically because of that, but Paige had spoken up quickly to cut her off.


    Someone else was there with her. Someone had been with Paige and the other girl hadn¡¯t wanted them to overhear Irelyn give away her secret identity. But who? And why hadn¡¯t Paige said anything about someone else listening in? Why¨Cwas she captured? Was she being held prisoner? Fuck. Fuck, fuck. That made sense. Of course, that was why she had refused to say anything more. They probably heard about Irelyn asking around and had forced Paige to make that call, likely at gunpoint. This was all bad, so bad. Unless she was jumping to conclusions. It was possible, possible, that there had simply been someone there who wasn¡¯t a threat, but whom Paige didn¡¯t want to hear about Irelyn¡¯s secret. She had to find out more.


    It wasn¡¯t long before Hazel called back, her voice coming through the car¡¯s speaker system that time.


    ¡°Okay, Bryson says this thing¡¯s coming from Florida. Down just a little north of Miami. You wanna tell us what this is all about? Or do we have to play twenty questions? Is it a person? I bet it¡¯s a person. My second guess is animal.¡±


    Frowning inwardly, Irelyn muttered, ¡°Florida, who do they know in Florida?¡± The answer, of course, was a lot of people. Her parents were rich and had contacts all over the place. But maybe the Miami part could narrow it down a little. Finally, she shook off those thoughts and focused on what the girl on the phone was saying. ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly. My parents and little sister disappeared a little while ago. And now Paige called me to say they were looking into one of Dad¡¯s businesses, but they got in trouble somehow and she was going to get them out of it.¡±


    There was a brief pause at that before Hazel replied, ¡°Uh, is your sister some sort of super-ninja secret agent or something? Wait, is she¨C¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not Touched,¡± Irelyn assured her. ¡°And she¡¯s not¨CI mean she knows self-defense, Dad made sure of that. So did I. But she¡¯s not¨Cno. I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s thinking. But I have to find her, and our parents, before something terrible happens. There¡¯s something going on around here, and I¡¯m pretty sure Paige knows all about it. She¡¯s the one I need to get answers from.¡±


    ¡°Well, let Bryson keep working at this on our end,¡± Hazel tentatively replied. She sounded uncertain, yet curious. ¡°He says there are a few weird things about that signal, like they were trying to mask it or something. But he¡¯s pretty good with this stuff, so he can probably work it out eventually. I¡¯ll make him keep digging a little deeper, let you know what we find out. If anything.¡±


    ¡°Hazel Ruthers, you and your brother be careful,¡± Irelyn cautioned.


    ¡°Ew, don¡¯t use my full name, it makes you sound like my mother,¡± the girl on the other end retorted. ¡°And the last thing I need is to be reminded of my mother. It ruins the mood.¡±


    Snorting, Irelyn shot back, ¡°Right, right, sorry. Consider me chastised. And¡­ do me a favor, keep all of this off the official record on your end too? Don¡¯t take it to your boss just yet. I don¡¯t know why, it just feels like the right thing to do. I¡¯ve got a weird feeling about all this.¡±


    ¡°You always have a weird feeling,¡± Hazel lightly teased before sobering a bit to add, ¡°Seriously, we¡¯ll keep it on the downlow, sure. It¡¯s the least we can do. Well, that and help you find your family. Give Bry a little more time to pick through this thing and see what¡¯s so weird about it, then we¡¯ll get back to you.¡±


    After agreeing with that, Irelyn disconnected before heaving a sigh. She still had no idea what to do about this. Well, she did. The call had come from Florida. She could go there and look around in person. Was that the right thing to do? There was a war going on right here in Detroit, yet her sister and parents¡­ Fuck, what was the right call here? If something happened to her family because she stayed here, she wouldn¡¯t be able to forgive herself. But on the other hand, if she left and this war kicked into even higher gear and people died because she wasn¡¯t around¡­


    Cursing once more under her breath, Irelyn reached out to hit the button on her dash to call Silversmith. Once he picked up several rings later, she tersely spoke, explaining a bit about the situation as succinctly as possible while trying to keep any emotion out of her voice. She didn¡¯t want him to think she wasn¡¯t being professional about this whole thing. Mostly she simply said that her parents and sister had gone off the grid and she needed to go check on them.


    Once she finished, there was a brief pause before the man replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear about your family, Flea. Of course you can take the time out to go down and look for them. I have a few contacts in the Conservators down there who can help out.¡±


    ¡°What about the¨C¡± she started to bring up the gang war.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us,¡± he assured her. ¡°Finding your parents and your sister is the important thing right now. Make sure they¡¯re safe. If I need to, I¡¯ll call in some help up here to fill in for you. We¡¯ll be fine, I promise. You head to the airport right¨Cwait, no. I¡¯m going to call in some favors and get you a rapid-transit. Head for¨Chere.¡± He paused briefly before reading off an address. ¡°Go there, I¡¯ll have a teleporter meet you in twenty minutes or so. They¡¯ll take you straight to Miami where you can meet with the Conservators and get the ball rolling to figure out where your parents and sister went.¡±


    Still taking a bit aback by the man¡¯s quick reaction to all of this, Irelyn finally found her voice. ¡°Right, thanks, Smith. I¡¯ll get this done, find them, and get back here as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us,¡± the man insisted. ¡°Take care of your family. And let me know if you need anything else while you¡¯re down there. We¡¯ll be ready to back you up if we need to. That¡¯s what a team is for.¡±


    After hesitantly agreeing and thanking the man, Irelyn disconnected once more and began heading for the address. She set the car into autodrive before rolling her seat back to change into her costume. The whole time, a multitude of thoughts were running through her head about what she would find in Florida when she got there. What had her father gotten himself involved in now? And why was Paige so insistent on dealing with it herself? There was something incredibly suspicious about the whole situation, even if she couldn¡¯t quite put her finger on it.


    Whatever this was, whatever was really going on, she was going to find out the truth. And then she and Paige were going to have a long talk about not running off on her own.


    Florida though? Really? Why the hell did it have to be Florida?


    A few minutes later, she pulled up in front of what looked like a disused warehouse. Parking her car, Irelyn stepped out, now fully-clad in her costume as she looked around. Catching a glimpse of a man waving toward her from the doorway, she strode that way.


    The man stood just under seven feet tall, heavily muscled under a black bodysuit with a silver cloak and hood. His face was covered by a dark red metal mask with holographic white numbers displayed across the front. Currently, the numbers simply read zero point zero zero.


    ¡°Snapback?¡± Flea, now that she was in costume, asked. ¡°He called you over from Chicago?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± came the surprisingly gentle and cheerful response given the man¡¯s size and build. ¡°Good luck finding your family though. You let me know if you need anything, yeah?¡±


    Agreeing, Flea reached out to take the man¡¯s hand. Immediately, she felt the air twist around them. It was a disturbing sensation, making her stomach flip over. The view around her distorted to the point that it hurt to look at it, and she closed her eyes before the nausea would have taken over.


    And with a popping noise, they were abruptly standing elsewhere. As her eyes opened, she found herself still grasping the man¡¯s hand, as they stood in the middle of an alley. The beach was visible in the distance, and the ocean beyond that.


    ¡°Miami Conservator base is about two blocks north,¡± her ¡®lift¡¯ informed the woman. The zero point zero zero previously displayed across the front of his red metal mask had changed to one thousand, three hundred and ninety six. ¡°Thought you might want to get your bearings a little bit before heading that way to check in. But ahh, this is a pretty big jump so you might want to let go before I snap you back with me.¡±


    Snapback was well-named. Essentially, he was capable of transporting himself to any location he had a decent understanding of, no matter how far away. But he could only stay in that location for a limited time. The further the distance, the shorter his time there. When he released his grip on the second location, the man instantly returned to his starting point and gained a brief moment of total invulnerability, as well as a level of super strength depending on how far away he had transported and how long he held it for. Like a stretched rubber band. The strength and invulnerability only lasted a couple of seconds, but it allowed him to hit someone or something with utterly devastating force simply by making a jump to somewhere very far away, holding the teleport for a few seconds until he could stand it no longer, then transporting back and lashing out. He could smack ordinary people around incredibly effectively just by teleporting several miles away and then ¡®snapping back¡¯ to swat them. Even better, if he wanted to, the man could expend his temporary strength in a single concussive blast from his hands rather than a physical blow, if his target had moved.


    Alternatively, he could choose to ¡®snap¡¯ the connection entirely and stay in the location he had teleported to. Doing that would send a concussive wave out at both his starting and ending locations, though he could choose exactly how to divide that force, giving his starting location the brunt of it and the ending point only a minimal amount, vice versa, or anywhere in between. When he was making a long trip and trying to stay there, the man had to find starting and ending areas that wouldn¡¯t be damaged in the process.


    Thanking the man for the lift, Flea watched him vanish with a rush of expanding air that made a popping sound, before turning. Florida. Time to go visit the local Convervators, and¨C


    ¡°So,¡± a voice abruptly interrupted. ¡°We heading out?¡±


    Jumping a bit, Flea pivoted, finding herself facing a familiar figure in a costume consisting of what looked like purple scalemail body armor over her chest, a black hooded cloak, purple metal helmet with black visor, and tan pants over dark brown boots.


    ¡°Hazel?¡± she blurted. ¡°What the hell are you doing here? I just¨CI told you to help your brother look for¨Chow did you¨C¡±


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re not the only one who can call in teleport assistance when you need to,¡± the other girl retorted. ¡°I¡¯ve still got friends from my old Minority squad in Nebraska. And I had time-off to take. I told you, I wanna help.


    ¡°And hey, don¡¯t call me by my real name. It¡¯s not Hazel Ruthers while we¡¯re in costume.


    ¡°It¡¯s Trivial.¡±

 Interlude 20B - Grandstand

    Nine Years Ago


    ¡°I excuses.¡±


    At first, when the small blonde girl spoke up, there was no response from the assortment of people in front of her. More than a dozen of them all crowded ahead, their backs to the girl as they yammered on excitedly, none paying her any mind. Whether they didn¡¯t hear her at all or just assumed that the child belonged to someone else and was thus that person¡¯s problem was up for debate. Whatever the truth, the result was that none even turned around.


    So, the twelve-year-old cleared her throat a bit pointedly. This, again, accomplished nothing. A brief look of consternation crossed her face. With a sigh, she took a breath, focusing on summoning the spirit of Alistae, the cheerful entertainer turned assassin from her own world. The world where this girl, Setrea, had spent the first eleven years of her life, before finding herself accidentally transported to this place one year earlier.


    Though no one here beyond Setrea herself would see it, the violet intangible form of Alistae appeared around the girl for a brief moment. Arms crossed, with his twin daggers held in reversed grip so that their blades were just visible sticking out from under either elbow, he gave a half-bemused, half-disbelieving stare at the crowd while shaking his head.


    The nearest translation of what her people called this that she had been able to find in the past year was ¡®manifesting.¡¯ Sixteen heroes had fought to save her people from the monsters that plagued their world. They were frozen as giant metallic statues now. Statues upon which her civilization had built entire cities. But their power was able to be called upon by certain people. People like Setrea, even if Alistae was the only one she could manage so far. She had tried for others, of course (especially after arriving in this strange place), to no avail.


    She could manage this pretty well though. Alistae¡¯s ghostly form vanished a moment after appearing, but his effect remained. She could feel his strength, his confidence, his intense desire to protect others and make them laugh. But most importantly, she could feel his gift.


    It was that gift that she used right then, the ability to draw the attention of people either toward or away from her. In this case, she drew attention toward herself, though only exercising a tiny amount of it. Just enough to affect the people immediately in front of her.


    The effect was instantaneous, all of them abruptly pivoting to stare at the young girl. So, with their eyes on her, she dropped the Manifestation and spoke very carefully. ¡°I excuses. You are people moving away for my please seeing.¡±


    From the way they were staring at Setrea, she had the sinking feeling that her mostly self-taught Anglesh lessons weren¡¯t going nearly as well as she had hoped. Thinking the sentence through once more, she tried again. ¡°Excuses, I am not seeing. You are people please moving?¡±


    Behind her, someone cleared their throat a bit more dramatically than Setrea herself had. ¡°The kid wants you to scoot over, she can¡¯t see the giraffes.¡±


    Turning at that, the girl found herself staring at a tall, red-haired woman in her early twenties. The woman closed and then opened one eye quickly. ¡°Come on, I like the giraffes too. They¡¯re pretty neat.¡± Then she held a hand out, even as the people ahead of them made room as requested.


    For a moment, Setrea hesitated. She understood¡­ about every other word or so, enough to put the woman¡¯s meaning together. Her grasp of this Anglesh had progressed quite rapidly over the past year, though she still heavily struggled when it came to putting together sentences herself in a way that was understandable to the people who spoke it. Their rules for which words went where were so confusing. She had no idea how they kept it straight.


    Still, she did want to see the giraffes. She came to this¡­ zoo, that was the word for it. She had come to this zoo every few days for the past several months, just to walk around and marvel at the simple fact that people on this world had so many different sorts of animals to look at. On her world, they had the few animals they could keep on the statue, or the birds they could see flying around, and that was it. Sure, there were others down on the ground, but she had never been on the ground. It was far too dangerous.


    But here, on this world? There had to be hundreds of different types of animals across the entire planet. It was amazing. Terrified as she was to be in this situation, so far from home and with no one who could help her, Setrea did love to come and see the creatures in this zoo.


    So, she accepted the woman¡¯s hand and stepped that way, eyes widening with delight at the vision of the long-necked animals in front of her. A noise of amazement escaped her.


    ¡°They¡¯re pretty cool, huh?¡± the woman, still holding her hand, noted with a smile. ¡°Giraffes have always been my favorite. Are they yours?¡±


    Taking a few seconds to process those words, translate the ones she didn¡¯t understand as much as possible, and fill in the blanks, Setrea finally replied, ¡°I knowing not. Animals are being many for choosing.¡±


    For a moment, the older woman regarded her, clearly trying to decide how to respond to that. ¡°I¡­ suppose there are a lot of them to choose from. Maybe¡­ you could walk around with me so we can see more?


    ¡°My name is Jolene Iverson. What¡¯s yours?¡±


    ********


    Present Day


    An attractive blonde woman sitting atop a sleek motorcycle across the street from a bar known to be a hangout for extremely unsavory types, and watching the place for an extended time, almost certainly would have been a bad idea in any given case. Adding in the fact that this particular attractive blonde was immediately identifiable, through her circus ringmaster outfit (including the black top hat rather than a helmet) and Zorro-like bandana mask, as one of that particular gang¡¯s primary enemies took away that ¡®almost¡¯ and made it a dead certainty.


    Or it would have, had Setrea, now more commonly known as Grandstand, not had the ability to simply manifest Alistae¡¯s power to divert everyone¡¯s attention away from herself. No one would pay her any mind no matter how long she sat there watching the bar.


    At least, not until she wanted them to pay attention to her. And that moment was rapidly approaching.


    The bar wasn¡¯t technically officially linked to either La Casa or the Easy Eights. Rather, the gang who made their base here was a minor one only loosely affiliated with the Eights. A minor league, triple A team rather than part of the Majors. Still, they were armed and dangerous. Well, so was she. And she had one thing they didn¡¯t have at that moment.


    She was fucking pissed.


    Stepping off her bike, Grandstand made her way across the street, heading for the bar while still diverting the attention of several people who remained in her line of sight. She had become so accustomed and experienced at Manifesting Alistae that the ghostly figure simply appeared at random times around her own form or nearby. When his form appeared, he would visibly react to what he was seeing, expressing amusement, disbelief, or any range of emotions. But he never really communicated, and she couldn¡¯t tell if he was actually watching what happened for real, or if his reactions were a manifestation of her own subconscious. Either way, it made her feel a tiny bit more connected to her home.


    A heavy-set bouncer lounging beside the door gazed right past her, fingers drumming lazily along the shotgun that lay across his lap. Once she grabbed the shotgun, the man¡¯s eyes finally focused on her. Powerful as it was, her gift couldn¡¯t compensate for directly affecting someone like that. He noticed her, eyes widening a bit. Yet as he started to hoist his considerable bulk off the chair, the man found himself immediately aborting that attempt and freezing as the barrel of his own shotgun was pointed at his neck.


    ¡°You know who I am?¡± she asked him, voice flat. When his head bobbed as much as it could without choking himself on the barrel of the gun, she nodded to the side. ¡°Run.¡±


    As soon as she moved the gun, he did just that. Without sparing her a glance, the man took off, sprinting as fast as he could. Which, considering his size, was pretty fast. Or maybe he was just that motivated.


    In any case, she only watched long enough to make sure he was really leaving. Then, shotgun still in hand, Setrea took a breath before stepping through the doorway.


    The bar was essentially a large oval, with the actual bar part in the middle and booths along the walls. At one end were a couple pool tables and a door to the restrooms and employee area, while a jukebox stood next to the entrance she had just come through. The place was fairly crowded, with nearly every table and bar seat full. Including the pool tables, each of which was in use. Every person there was either a member of this gang (they called themselves Cross Vipers), or somehow connected to them enough to be allowed to stay here. The bar didn¡¯t serve outsiders.


    Letting her gaze pass over the room while the power of Alistae ensured that they ignored her (Alistae¡¯s spirit form itself appeared to examine the jukebox curiously), Setrea considered for a moment before abruptly switching that power. Now, rather than pushing their attention away, she pulled it to herself. At the same time, she took aim at the nearby jukebox and pulled the trigger. The resulting shotgun blast echoed throughout the room while the music itself was murdered mid-song. Alistae¡¯s ghost gave her a disappointed look before vanishing.


    Now she really had everyone¡¯s attention. Tossing the shotgun aside, Grandstand faced the assembled group. Almost fifty people, all staring at her. A few started to rise, only to stop as their companions put hands on their arms or shoulders.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for the people who pulled the job to attack the reporter lady on the freeway!¡± she called, eyes scanning everyone for reactions.


    The bartender spoke up. ¡°Hey, look, you got the wrong place! That was Scion shit, ain¡¯t nobody here part of that¨C¡±


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°They were fake Scions,¡± Grandstand interrupted, her eyes narrowing in on a booth against the right-hand wall, about halfway to the back. She took a step that way before immediately shifting Alistae¡¯s power to make everyone ignore her for the time it took to cross the distance. For those brief couple of seconds, she might as well have been invisible, because no one could focus on her. Once she was in front of the table, she reversed the effect again to draw everyone¡¯s attention while simultaneously drawing the pistol from its holster at her hip to point at the head of the red-haired, lanky man sitting there. From the point of view of him and everyone else in the room, they would have completely lost interest in her for about five seconds, then suddenly regained it as she practically disappeared from the doorway and reappeared next to that table.


    ¡°Whoa, whoa, hey!¡± The red-haired man jerked a bit with the gun pointed at him. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¨C¡± He stopped as she pressed the barrel harder against his temple. ¡°Okay, okay, okay, chill out! We didn¡¯t kill the reporter, god! We weren¡¯t supposed to, just supposed to chase her down, attack them, make it look good. Play the role, okay? The dude paid super well and we were just supposed to make it look like the Scions were attacking her. Fuck, I thought it was the chick trying to make herself look important for some follow-up story or something.¡±


    Shifting the power yet again so that everyone in the room aside from the people at this table would forget about her, Grandstand narrowed her eyes, voice dangerous. ¡°Who paid you?¡±


    ¡°Li-like I said, I thought it was her, til she got killed for real!¡± the man stammered. ¡°It¨Cfuck, fuck just¨C Miles! Miles Boyd, he¡¯s the one who sent the invite, he¡¯ll know more, I swear! He divied up the cash too! It was all him, you wanna talk to him!¡±


    ¡°Just two more questions.¡± With that, the blonde woman lowered the pistol from his forehead down past his nose, over his mouth, and to his throat. ¡°Where is this Miles Boyd? And what does he look like?¡±


    *******


    A short time later, with the Alistae manifestation ensuring no one even thought to follow her (the effect would wear off soon after she left), Setrea threw a leg over her motorcycle, started it up, and took off with a roar of the engine and squeal from the tires. Minor Touched-Tech linking the black top hat to an actual hairband she wore kept it perfectly positioned on her head despite the speed of the bike.


    Once she was a couple blocks from the bar, Setrea ordered the bluetooth attached to her motorcycle to call Cu¨¦lebre, her attention focused on weaving the motorcycle between a couple cars that happened to be going entirely too slowly for her liking.


    After several rings, the voice of her Fell-Touched boss came through. ¡°Grandstand, what is it?¡±


    She could picture him now, a fifteen-foot-tall demon-like figure sitting in that meditative pose in his dojo room. Few people had the number of his private cell, and fewer still would call him without going through the proper channels first. He probably hadn¡¯t even needed to check the number to know who this one was coming from.


    ¡°Miles Boyd,¡± she announced. ¡°He¡¯s some low-level fuck attached to the Ninety-Niners. I really need you to have them cut him loose so he and I can have a conversation without causing an incident. Shouldn¡¯t be too bad, but since we¡¯re supposed to be allies with them for the moment, I thought it might be a good idea to go through the proper channels.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Cu¨¦lebre replied, ¡°Am I supposed to know who this guy is, or why you want to talk to him?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s the guy I need to talk to so I can find out who ordered the hit on Jolene Iverson,¡± Setrea informed him, gunning the motorcycle off the street and through a narrow alley. A shortcut on the way to the right area, which was clear across the city. Plenty of time for her boss to make the necessary arrangements.


    Cu¨¦lebre was silent for a moment, clearly digesting that before speaking again. ¡°Ah, and why, precisely, would you be looking for the person who murdered a reporter? Don¡¯t get me wrong, doing a favor for the Scions is a bad idea. He deserves whatever he gets. But why exactly does it involve you?¡±


    ¡°She¡­¡± For a moment, Setrea paused. She thought of the weeks and months Jolene had worked with her, helping the then-new and scared girl to learn proper English and Spanish. She¡¯d had questions, of course. Plenty of them. And Setrea had told her the story. Jolene was the only person she had told her story to. Yet, despite being a reporter, the woman had kept that secret. She objected to Setrea joining Oscuro, of course. And tried to talk her out of it repeatedly. But she never exposed the truth about her, despite what a huge story it would have been. Jolene had kept her secret.


    And now she was dead.


    ¡°She was my friend,¡± Setrea finally settled on. ¡°And this guy knows who killed her. I¡¯m going to get answers out of him about who was responsible for that. And then I¡¯m going to kill them, whoever they are.¡±


    ¡°Give me ten minutes before you do anything. Let me check on some things,¡± came the response, before Cu¨¦lebre disconnected the call.


    Which left Setrea to mindlessly cruise along on her way to the Ninety-Niner¡¯s territory. No, not mindlessly. Her thoughts continuously drifted back to moments she¡¯d had with Jolene, from that first time at the zoo, all the way up to brunch a couple weeks earlier. That was the last time she had seen the woman in person, though she did watch many of her broadcasts. Jolene was her friend. Was. Until someone killed her.


    With those thoughts swirling through her mind, she almost jumped at the sound of her phone alert going off. It was Cu¨¦lebre. Or ¡®Boss¡¯ as her audio alert announced. After taking a second to collect herself, she answered. ¡°Yeah? Where are they sending him?¡±


    There was a brief pause before Cu¨¦lebre spoke. ¡°There is a little bit of a complication. Turns out this Miles Boyd might be fairly low on the totem pole himself, but his brother is one of their Touched. Jailtime.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not interested in his family history,¡± Setrea retorted, even though she knew exactly why that was being brought up. She was simply ignoring it. ¡°I want him.¡±


    ¡°And I made an attempt to make them let you talk to him,¡± Cu¨¦lebre informed her. ¡°I even said that I would guarantee his safety if he told you what he knows. He declined. And they¡¯re backing him up.¡±


    ¡°What do you¨C¡± Setrea stopped, measuring her response. ¡°What do you mean he declined and they¡¯re backing him up?¡±


    ¡°I mean, he refuses to talk to you, and they aren¡¯t going to make him,¡± Cu¨¦lebre explained.


    ¡°So, I¡¯ll talk to him without their permission and find out what he knows,¡± she replied flatly.


    There was another pause before the response came, Cu¨¦lebre speaking very carefully. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you can¡¯t do that. Just¡­ think for a minute, amiga. We are in the middle of a war which is escalating by the day. Things are going to get worse before they get better. And the one thing we can¡¯t afford right now is to lose our allies. The Ninety-Niners aren¡¯t our best friends, but they are the only friends we have to hold against both the Easy Eights and La Casa. Jailtime is an important piece of the Ninety-Niners. His powers are pretty essential, so the last thing Sandon is going to do is piss him off. And forcing his brother to talk to you would piss him off.¡±


    Stopping her motorcycle in a small parking lot overlooking a slightly lower street, Setrea replied in a low voice. ¡°She was my friend, Cu¨¦lebre.¡±


    ¡°That I understand,¡± he replied. ¡°And I sympathize. I do. You will get your chance at answers, I promise. But you need to think strategically and put it on the back burner for now. I¡¯m telling you, we cannot afford to fight two gangs alone. Let alone three, if this vendetta against Miles Boyd makes the Ninety-Niners turn against us too.¡±


    ¡°By the time this war is over, the trail that Miles could lead me to, the trail that could point to the person who killed my friend, could be completely cold,¡± Setrea retorted. ¡°Whoever hired him wasn¡¯t one of the Scions. They wouldn¡¯t want her dead, they¡¯d want her captured so they could¡­ kill her themselves. Slowly.¡±


    ¡°Is that part of why you¡¯re so angry?¡± Cu¨¦lebre carefully (but not carefully enough) asked. ¡°Because you didn¡¯t think to be there to watch over her after she did that story?¡±


    Rather than respond immediately with what she wanted to say, Setrea took a breath and forced herself to wait a moment before speaking in a tight voice. ¡°Yes, I stupidly thought an entire group of Ten Towers Touched would be able to protect her. A failure on my part. But one I aim to make amends for, by finding the person responsible. And Miles Boyd is the only person who can help me do that.¡±


    ¡°And he will,¡± Cu¨¦lebre promised her pointedly. ¡°After we get through this war.¡± He took a brief moment before adding, ¡°Let me make myself perfectly clear. When the time comes, you will have my full support in tracking down the person responsible for your friend¡¯s death. But we cannot push the Ninety-Niners on the issue right now. Doing so would risk making them our enemies instead of our allies, and that is something we cannot afford while we are in the middle of this war. You have to be patient. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Rather than respond verbally, Setrea did something she had never done to Cu¨¦lebre. She reached up and hit the button to disconnect the call. She hung up on him, her boss, her¡­ the man she had chosen to serve as the right-hand to, in her quest to retrieve the resources she needed to eventually find a way back to her own world. He was her best ticket to finding a way back home, to her friends, her family, her papa.


    For several long, mentally-torturous minutes, she sat there on the motorcycle, staring at passing traffic indecisively. Every once in awhile through that long, silent period, she would close her eyes and picture Jolene. She would remember the woman¡¯s face that first day at the zoo.


    Abruptly, Setrea felt a presence behind her. Turning slightly, she expected to see that Cu¨¦lebre had come to speak with her directly. Instead, the woman saw a form that was at once familiar and utterly foreign. Another ghostly figure, but this was not Alistae¡¯s purple form. Instead, she was looking at the dark green figure of Deunmar. Deunmar, the Protector, was another of the sixteen heroes. She was a Marked, one of those descendants of humans who had been mutated into a partial animal form. In this case, Deunmar was Scale-Marked, related to reptiles. The nearest Earth animal to what she looked like was a turtle. Her thick shell protected her back, assisted by the heavy armor she wore, and an enormous shield that was taller than the woman herself.


    Manifesting Deunmar allowed the person to make any object they were touching completely invulnerable to any physical damage for a limited time. Including the clothes or armor they were wearing, or weapons they were holding. It began at only what amounted to two seconds for beginners, with a twenty second cooldown. But that would improve with use.


    All those realizations and memories passed through Setrea¡¯s mind as she stared at the ghostly figure. A new Manifestation. Another connection to her homeworld. Deunmar stared right back at her, before giving a short nod. A nod that said everything it needed to.


    Once more, Setrea closed her eyes. She thought of Jolene. She thought of the zoo.


    She remembered the giraffes.


    *****


    It was a solid door, very well-built and meant to prevent police from kicking it in very easily. What it was not prepared to stand up to, was a motorcycle literally driving straight into it. A motorcycle that, for that single instant, had been rendered entirely invulnerable to all damage thanks to Setrea¡¯s new Manifestation of Deunmar. The door folded like cardboard, as she brought the bike to a halt in the middle of the small office building¡¯s front lobby. The assorted handful of people sitting in the room stared at her incredulously, not even thinking to grab for their guns just yet. By the time one thought of it and went to grab the weapon from the nearby table, her whip had lashed out to catch his wrist, yanking him off his chair to the floor. At the same time, she pointed her pistol at one of the other men, sliding off her bike.


    ¡°Miles Boyd. He¡¯s staying here. What room?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here,¡± the man with the pistol pointed at him snarled. ¡°Your boss told you to back off.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Setrea started, before using her far-more-familiar Manifestation to make them forget about her. Alistae¡¯s ghostly form was sitting on a chair, curiously looking at the cover of a magazine that was lying there. He made a motion as though to pick it up before grimacing as his hand went through it.


    Meanwhile, Setrea moved those few steps from the bike until she was standing directly behind the man she had been talking to, then dropped the power while smacking him with the butt of the gun in the back of the head. ¡°Was that a room number?!¡±


    ¡°Ahhh, fuck!¡± Holding the back of his head, the man blurted, ¡°He ain¡¯t here! He took off half an hour ago!¡±


    The man who had been whipped to the ground spoke up then. ¡°You have any idea how bad you just fucked up? Our boss is gonna make your boss put you out to dry. You come into our home and fuck with our people? You just fucked up this alliance for your boss. So what do you think he¡¯s gonna do?¡±


    ¡°Probably be pretty pissed off,¡± Setrea agreed in a quiet, almost thoughtful voice, before narrowing her eyes. ¡°So I guess I better convince one of you to tell me where Miles went pretty quick. Not that I needed the extra motivation. I¡¯ve got plenty.


    ¡°Let me give you some.¡±

 Interlude 20C - Jae And The Chambers Twins

    ¡°Check the oven, check the oven! Don¡¯t let the lasagna burn!¡± With that frantic cry, the bleached-blonde woman, whose drivers license would heavily disagree with her commonly stated age, bounded into the kitchen with her phone held in one hand and frantically tried to shove the other hand into an oven mitt that was sitting on the counter. ¡°Jae?! Jae, where are you?!¡± Her voice grew louder and slightly more shrill. ¡°J¨C¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± Jae Baek announced, rising from behind the island counter with the cookie sheet with one oven mitt-covered hand holding the formerly-frozen lasagna that she had just taken from the oven.


    With a surprised shriek as the girl abruptly showed herself, Kella pitched her phone and oven mitt toward Jae defensively while jerking away and shielding her face. ¡°Don¡¯t shoot!¡±


    Before either the phone or mitt could hit her, Jae took advantage of the fact that the woman wasn¡¯t looking to use her power. She pulled both into a quick orbit around herself before letting them land on the counter. She then quietly informed her stepmother, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not loaded.¡±


    ¡°What¨C¡± Finally belatedly realizing who was talking, Kella focused on her. ¡°For goodness sake, Jae, don¡¯t skulk like that. What were you¨C¡± Seeing the tray as the girl put it down on top of the stove, she coughed. ¡°Oh, you¡­ ahh, you got it. Good. G¨Cmy phone!¡±


    Reaching down, Jae picked up the device, turned it over, then offered it back to the woman with a shrug. ¡°I think it¡¯s okay.¡±


    Quickly taking her phone back, Kella checked it over in a rush before holding it up to her ear. ¡°Dana? Dana are you¨Coh thank God. Yeah? He did? Oh no. Oh no. Oh¨C¡± Abruptly, she started to laugh. ¡°Tell me. What did he say¨Cwait, no, what did she say? How did¨Cyou¡¯re kidding.¡±


    For the next couple of minutes, Jae stood there waiting while Kella went through an entire conversation with her friend, seemingly having completely forgotten the younger girl was even in the room, let alone what she had actually gone in there for. Finally, she shook her head. ¡°Oh no,  I couldn¡¯t possibly. Not tonight. Yes, I know who he is. Ohhh don¡¯t do this to me. Don¡¯t tell me that! Maybe I can¨C No, of course not. It¡¯s the girl. Yes, Jae. What? No. No, she¡¯s having some friends over. Just a nice little party, nothing too wild. Yes, that Jae. What other¨Coh no. Well of course not. Yes, and I¡¯m here to keep it rocking. Haha, you know it. Yes, I¨Cwait, the lasagna!¡±


    Having worked her way back around to the reason she¡¯d come into the room in the first place yet again (her first realization apparently not having stuck), the woman hit the disconnect button and looked up just in time to see Jae taking the foil off the pan. ¡°Oh, right, you took it out before. What¨Cis it¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not burnt,¡± Jae informed her before gesturing to the cheesy, tomatoey treat. ¡°See? What did Dana want?¡± she asked politely.


    Making a brave face that was entirely unconvincing, Kella waved that off. ¡°Oh, just some director who¡¯s looking for some faces for a project, he¡¯s down at the club on Greenfield.¡±


    ¡°You should go see him,¡± Jae replied, reaching up into the nearby cupboard to take down a few plates. ¡°If he might have a part for you.¡±


    ¡°What? Oh, no, no, this is your night.¡± Kella insisted, though her voice faltered a little. ¡°You¡¯ve got friends coming over. Do you have any idea how seldom that¨CI mean¨C¡± Blanching as the realization of what she had just said came to mind, she quickly backtracked. ¡°I promised I¡¯d be here to help¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Kella.¡± Jae gestured. ¡°Dinner¡¯s ready, see? They¡¯ll be here in a few minutes and we¡¯ll eat. There won¡¯t be¡­ it¡¯s just the two of them. Nothing to worry about. I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Squirming a little guiltily, unable to disguise just how much she truly wanted to leave, Kella managed one last, ¡°Are you sure? I know what a big deal it is to have your first real party. I mean, not that this is what I would have called a party when I was your age¨Cbut¡­ but you¡¯re not me, and if you want me to stay¨C¡±


    ¡°Kella, I promise, it¡¯s fine.¡± Jae offered her a small smile of encouragement. ¡°It¡¯s not the first time they¡¯ve visited, remember? They came for dinner a couple weeks ago.¡± She didn¡¯t bother to point out that this wasn¡¯t a party, not with only two other people.


    ¡°Yes, and then you had to leave suddenly for your¡­ school emergency,¡± Kella replied with a shake of her head. ¡°Which, for the record, I still don¡¯t understand how you could have a school emergency in the middle of the night. But¨C¡± Shrugging that off, she added, ¡°You didn¡¯t get to finish the party. They left fifteen minutes after they got here. I just¡­ I just want to help you make sure this one goes right.¡±


    The words made Jae smile very faintly. Honestly, her stepmother would never be anything like Andrea Mars, the woman who had adopted Jae and several other ¡®ethnic¡¯ children over the years in the first place. But the fact that she cared at all, that she had even initially refused to leave to go see this director, no matter how reluctantly, meant¡­ a lot, actually. Kella wasn¡¯t a bad person, she just never intended to be a mother, and at best saw herself as a fun aunt or older sister. Being left in charge of Jae after all of the girl¡¯s older adopted siblings had moved out, and her husband/Jae¡¯s adopted father¡¯s director career had been reinvigorated to run a television show all the way up in Canada, had never been on her to-do list.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, Kella,¡± she repeated in a firm voice. ¡°I promise.¡±


    Hemming and hawing just a little bit more, Kella finally thanked Jae and kissed her forehead. With a quick promise to bring her back something fun and a reminder not to turn the music up so loud it attracted the police, she was back on the phone to let Dana know she was coming after all, and out the door.


    Which left Jae waiting alone when the doorbell rang. She quickly looked over the lasagna one more time before heading for the entranceway. Despite her words to Kella before, she was nervous about this whole thing. As the older woman had pointed out (without knowing the whole story), the last time she had tried to have a night with Lexi Chambers and her brother, she¡¯d ended up being called in to help out as Carousel and was forced to cancel. Hopefully no one would need her tonight and she could actually get through a full evening off.


    With that silent wish, Jae took a breath before opening the front door. She immediately saw the two in question. Lexi, the girl she knew from several other online games, was a fourteen-year-old with long dark hair, wearing baggy jeans and a hooded jacket over a tee shirt with a picture of a heavily-armed and armored female knight from one of their games.


    Her twin brother Zed, meanwhile, had blond hair that was clearly a labor of love and effort. It was spiked up with plenty of gel, and he wore black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and black vest.


    ¡°Jae!¡± Lexi stepped in, embracing the slightly older girl. ¡°It¡¯s so cool to see you again!¡±


    With a tiny smirk, Zed gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah, hope we make it longer than fifteen minutes this ti¨Coof.¡± The last bit was from his sister elbowing him in the gut.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that,¡± Jae quietly replied, crossing her fingers behind her back that she wouldn¡¯t be proven wrong. ¡°I like to let people meet me just long enough to find out how much of a freak I look like, then decide if they want to come back later after all.¡±


    ¡°Oh stop,¡± Lexi insisted. ¡°Believe me, Zed¡¯s a bigger freak than you are. Do you have any idea how long he spends working on his hair every day? Hint, it¡¯s more than ten minutes. Hence, freak.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Lex, you can just admit you¡¯re jealous and get it over with,¡± Zed informed her while posturing. That immediately turned to a yelp and wildly flailing arms as his twin reached over with both hands to try to muss up his beloved locks. ¡°Stop, stop, I¡¯ve gotta keep this for¨Cstop¨Chey!¡±


    With a small smile, Jae gestured for them to come the rest of the way in and then shut the door after them before leaving the two over to the kitchen. On the way, Zed sniffed several times. ¡°Mmm, lasagna? We haven¡¯t had that since we spent that weekend with Gramps and Gran a couple months ago.¡±


    ¡°Sure you don¡¯t need a bib?¡± Lexi teased. ¡°After all, you might spill cheese or tomato sauce on your fancy clothes and spontaneously combust.¡±


    With an affronted huffing sound, the boy retorted, ¡°Oh please, if I didn¡¯t know how to get food into my mouth without spilling it all over, I¡¯d never survive in a house with you and Dad. If I can dodge the two of you, I can sure as hell handle my own food.¡±


    Lexi, in turn, narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°Are you sure you can dodge me?¡±


    Jae, reminded of bantering between her older adopted siblings before they had moved out, smiled to herself before speaking up. ¡°If you want, we can load up the plates here and take them to the den to watch a movie or something. Or two. Or¡­ I uhh, don¡¯t know how long your parents are cool with you staying. I mean, this extra meeting they had to come back to Detroit for, is it gonna keep them busy for very long?¡±


    The twins exchanged glances before Lexi shrugged. ¡°Eh, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re staying in town for the weekend, so it¡¯s no big deal. We can stay until you get sick of us. Unless that¡¯s right now?¡± She offered a wink. ¡°I know we can be a lot. I mean, that¡¯s what Mom and Dad say, and they¡¯re pretty smart about that sort of thing. After all, they have to do a lot.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Oh yeah, your mom¡¯s a cop?¡± Jae asked. ¡°And your dad¡¯s a reporter.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s a homicide detective,¡± Zed clarified, pride evident in his voice. ¡°And a¨C¡± He coughed. ¡°A damn good one. So¡¯s Dad. I mean, a good reporter. He pisses people off all the time, which I¡¯m pretty sure means he¡¯s great at his job. He always says that if everyone likes you, you¡¯re a shitty reporter.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± Lexi put in, ¡°they can¡¯t all hate you either. It¡¯s about balance.¡± For a brief moment, it looked as though she was going to say something else. Then the girl shook that off and gestured. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m starving. Let¡¯s grub.¡±


    The three of them had just loaded their plates, and were on their way to the den to set up the first movie, when the doorbell rang once more. Hearing that, Zed asked, ¡°What, did you invite more people?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Jae replied, setting her plate down before heading that way. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll see who it is, you guys can go right down that hall and turn left into the second door.¡± With that, she continued to the front entrance and checked through the peephole. There was a man in a delivery uniform standing there, holding a tablet computer with one hand and a package tucked under his other arm. Beyond him, out on the street, was the delivery truck itself with the familiar logo over it.


    Right, obviously Kella had ordered something. That wasn¡¯t exactly unheard of. The woman did most of her shopping online, and was always trying to find the latest thing that would keep her in-fashion, so they had packages come practically every other day.


    Wondering briefly what this latest delivery was, Jae opened the door. ¡°Package for Kella Song?¡±  This particular delivery guy was unfamiliar, so she braced herself slightly for the inevitable reaction that came whenever a stranger saw an Albino Asian girl standing in front of them.


    But the man didn¡¯t react to that at all. Instead, he simply turned the package around to offer it. ¡°That¡¯s right, if you could take this and then sign for it, Miss.¡±


    Jae went to accept the box, before everything seemed to fall into slow motion. She saw the complete lack of any surprise on the man¡¯s face at the way she looked. She saw the very subtle hole in the front of the package, near the lid. It was too small to make out details, but at a glance (she had been trained within the Minority to pick up details very quickly) it looked as though there was a tiny hose or something similar there, the end barely visible. And the way he was offering it to her basically forced Jae to take it from both sides, as his hand was already underneath it. The sides, one of which seemed to bulge very slightly right where she would put her hand. It bulged not as though the package itself was full, but as though there was something stuck inside the cardboard. Something that would be pushed when she put her hands on it to take the package.


    All of that passed through the girl¡¯s mind in the brief second as she went to take the box. At the very last instant, she grabbed the side that wasn¡¯t bulging out, pushing hard to twist the box around in the man¡¯s hand while simultaneously slapping her hand against the bulging part.


    As expected, there was a pressure sensor there. As soon as it depressed, a spray of dark green gas burst out of the hole in the front. The hole which would have been pointed directly at her face, had she taken it the way the man was trying to get her to. Instead, it was sent into his face, and the man recoiled with a yelped curse before abruptly collapsing right there on the porch, where he immediately began to snore.


    Any pride that the girl might have felt in that moment that having realized the trap was completely covered by confusion and worry. Who was that guy? Why would he¨Cwait, did people know who she was? Was this an attack against Carousel? Because if so, that was really bad.


    Before she had time to think about that any further, the back door of the delivery truck slid open and several men hopped out. Several heavily armed men. Seeing them, Jae quickly shoved the door shut, though she still heard one of them shout, ¡°Spread out, cover the back. Don¡¯t give a shit what happens to that girl, but we need the twins alive!¡±


    Twins? They were here for Zed and Lexi, not her? What the hell?


    Even as that burst of confusion filled her, Jae heard a noise and spun to find Zed standing there in the hall, his face grim. ¡°What happened? What¨C¡±


    That was as far as he got before something heavy hit the door hard enough to make it shake. It was followed immediately by another hard slam, and a shouted, ¡°Get the fuck out here, kids! Make it easy on yourselves!¡±


    Lexi had run into the hall beside her brother by that point. ¡°What the hell is¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re after you,¡± Jae informed them, already pulling her phone from her pocket to call the authorities. Only to frown at what she saw. ¡°No signal. They¡¯re blocking it.¡± Her eyes snapped up then, taking in the two. ¡°Why? Who are they?¡± Her mind was already racing, thinking of how to get out of this without exposing her secret. These people were here for the Chambers kids, so they clearly had no idea that Jae was Touched. And certainly didn¡¯t know she was part of the Minority. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t take advantage of that without exposing her powers. And with the phones jammed, she couldn¡¯t call the others for help.


    Even as those thoughts rushed through her mind, the door was hit yet again. That time, it nearly came off its hinges. The door was heavily reinforced, but it couldn¡¯t hold under that sort of sustained abuse. But far more pressingly, from the back area of the house came the sound of breaking glass. Someone somewhere had shattered a window. They could get inside.


    In an instant, before even thinking about anything else, Jae was lunging to grab the other two by the hands. Everything else was forgotten aside from getting them to safety. While they yelped, she pulled them to the stairs and practically dragged the pair up them. If they could get to one of the rooms there and out a window, they might be able to escape this situation without¨C


    A man was there, right at the top of the stairs. He¡¯d clearly climbed up and broken in through one of the higher windows, just as Jae had been intending to break out. Worse, he was armed, his gun already pointed down at the trio, who were halfway up the steps. ¡°Right, kids, why don¡¯t you just-aaahhh!¡±


    He wasn¡¯t ordering them to scream, much as it might have appeared otherwise. In mid-sentence, the man had recoiled as something flew past Jae¡¯s shoulder. It looked like a bright silver egg that was glowing from the inside. As it struck the man, the ¡®egg¡¯ shattered. But instead of getting yolk over him, the man actually turned translucent. Like a ghost. Flailing, he had just enough time for his eyes to widen before he was abruptly catapulted through the nearby wall. His scream lingered as he was launched straight sideways, vanishing right through the painting of a sailing boat that was affixed there. All without doing any actual damage. It was like he had been turned into a ghost and was then sent flying.


    ¡°What th¨C¡± Jae pivoted, her eyes snapping to where the twins were. Even as she did so, the front door finally gave up its fight, crashing inward. The man who had been slamming his way into it repeatedly burst through, shouting a violent threat.


    That time, Jae saw what happened. Lexi cocked her hand back, another of those glowing silver eggs appearing in her palm before she chucked it that way. Again, when the egg struck the man, it shattered and he began to glow while turning instangible. An instant later, his scream filled the foyer as he was launched backward the way he had come. Through the small, circular window above the door, Jae saw his glowing form crash down in the grass across the street before returning to normal.


    ¡°Lexi,¡± Jae managed, staring at the girl even as the sound of other people rushing through the house reached them.


    ¡°Jae, we gotta go!¡± That was Zed, grabbing her by the hand and yanking before adding, ¡°Lex!¡±


    Lexi too began to move then, pivoting back toward them before grabbing Jae¡¯s other hand. ¡°We¡¯ll explain later, come on! Zed, keep them off us, I¡¯ve gotta have more time to cook!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m working on it!¡± the boy insisted. Releasing Jae, he pivoted on the stairs and held both hands up flat in front of himself, like a mime in a box. After a moment of obvious concentration, the air in front of him, from the edge of the step about halfway up, all the way to the ceiling, began to glow faintly. Forcefield. He had created a forcefield. That much was obvious as a man came around out of the nearby room, gun in hand, and ran face-first into it before rebounding backward with a broken, bleeding nose.


    ¡°Go, go, go!¡± Zed blurted, pivoting to usher the other two onward. ¡°Lex, you better cook faster!¡±


    ¡°Like I don¡¯t know that!¡± she retorted, pulling Jae as they raced upstairs. Behind them, the sound of more men arriving and hitting that forcefield filled the air. As did their shouts and threats.


    At the top of the stairs, Lexi pivoted to the other girl. ¡°Where¡¯s the nearest window? I¡¯ve gotta see where we¡¯re going!¡±


    Taken aback by all of this, Jae mutely raised a hand to point to the door they were in front of. It was actually her eldest brother¡¯s room, or had been before he had gone off to college. Nothing had been done with it, however. The room was still just as he had left it.


    As the men below shouted that ¡®this Tech shield shit¡¯ wouldn¡¯t stop them, the trio went through the door. Jae could hear a man who seemed to be in charge shouting for other men to get outside and block the exit out there, and to make sure ¡®those little fucks¡¯ didn¡¯t attract anyone¡¯s attention.


    Once they were in the room, Lexi pulled away and stood with her arms folded, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll explain in a minute, promise,¡± Zed informed her, checking through the door before shutting it. As he did so, the boy pressed both hands against the door for a moment. Abruptly, a second door, this one made of solid energy like the forcefield below, appeared right there. ¡°That should hold them for a second if they get this far. But Lex¨C¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± she insisted. ¡°Just gimme a second.¡± A moment later, she finally opened her eyes. ¡°Okay, that should be good.¡± Focusing on Jae, she hesitated before offering a weak, ¡°I¨Ctrust me, okay? Please?¡±


    Jae, in turn, gave a short nod. She honestly had no idea what to say to that, clueless as to how to respond to being on this side of the situation.


    Holding both hands out, cupped together Lexi created another of those eggs. No, three of them. ¡°Take one, break it on yourself. Now, now, now!¡±


    Quickly, Jae grabbed one of the glowing silver eggs. Zed took the second, leaving one for Lexi. Together, all three of them broke the eggs against themselves. Instantly, Jae felt herself turn insubstantial. She felt weightless, and her body was glowing.


    And then¡­ then she was moving. No, moving. The entire world turned into a blur, as she shot sideways through the window that Lexi had just been looking at. There was a rush of shapes and colors, before the ground just as suddenly came up to smack into her.


    ¡°Oogh,¡± Jae groaned. She was lying on the grass, and when she looked up, the girl saw the park around them. A park that was four blocks away from where they had started only a few seconds earlier.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry. I had to make sure I cooked them long enough to get us out of the neighborhood,¡± Lexi was saying. She and Zed had landed on their feet, apparently more accustomed to that. The dark-haired girl was reaching down to help Jae to her feet. ¡°Zed, call Mom and Dad. We should be out of range of those jammers now. And¡­ and¡­¡± She stared at Jae for a moment before blanching. ¡°Hi.¡± Her voice was weak. ¡°About¡­ what just happened. It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    ¡°We have powers,¡± Zed put in. ¡°She makes those egg things that turn people or objects into light and yeets them off in a single direction really fast for a really short time. Lasts longer if she takes more time to ¡®cook¡¯ the eggs. I make solid-light copies of things I touch. Including air, like back there on the steps to make that forcefield thing. Those guys probably hate either our mom or dad, or maybe both, for cop or reporter-related things.¡± To Lexi, he added, ¡°See, not that long.¡±


    Shooting a look at her brother, the girl retorted, ¡°Just call Mom and Dad.¡± To Jae, she offered a hesitant, ¡°I know this is probably way too much to deal with right now. And I know¨CI know that¡¯s not enough and we need to talk about a lot more of it. We will, I swear. But are you okay?¡±


    After a brief hesitation, Jae slowly replied, ¡°Actually, I can deal with it better than you might think. You¡¯re right, though.


    ¡°We do need to talk.¡±

 Non-Canon 13 - Magical Girls Versus The Evil Queen

    ¡°Ahahahaha! Flee! Flee for your puny, insignificant lives, mortals! Wallow in terror, weep with dismay, welter in the dread sweat as the hour of your annihilation approaches! Look upon your end and ululate for its imminence!¡±


    Accompanying the deafening words, magnified as they were by a microphone held in one hand that connected to speakers throughout the room, was the sound of constantly cracking and reforming glass. Through the front space of the museum spread throughout this converted airplane hangar, a thirty foot tall tyrannosaurus rex made entirely of glass pounded its way forward, scattering two security guards with their weapons raised and forcing them to scatter at the last moment. All around the stampeding construct, dozens of people raced for any exit they could find, though some did so while holding their phones up to record video of the event. These stragglers were ¡®helped¡¯ along their way by a mixture of smaller glass constructs (made to look essentially like thin stick figures with very pointy hands), as well as several lizard-like animals, including a pseudo-bear, near-gorilla, and sort-of-panther. All three of those wore literal black and white burglar outfits and black eye masks that were specifically tailored to fit them.


    Neither the glass beings, nor the (utterly unrecognizable with their cunning disguises) lizard-animals, did anything to actually hurt or catch the people they were ¡®chasing,¡¯ despite how much of a show they put on. Indeed, as one particularly slow man stumbled and fell in mid-sprint, the reptilian panther figure (who was clearly only very distantly related to the identical one the city already knew about that didn¡¯t have a striped shirt and mask) skidded to a halt just behind him. Tilting her head, the scaled cat-like creature seemed to tilt her head and think for a moment, holding that pose at a dead stop for a solid three seconds before quite abruptly throwing herself onto her side, sprawling out dramatically as though she had just tripped at high speed. She then proceeded to flop around like a particularly inept fish, giving the man ample opportunity to scramble back to his feet and keep running.


    Just to be on the safe side, she gave him a bit more of a head start before expertly flipping back to her feet and giving chase once more.


    Similar situations played out through the massive hangar, as the glass dinosaur stood in the exact center, towering over every other being. Atop the T-Rex construct¡¯s back was a platform, almost like a saddle, which was also made of glass. And standing in the center of that, overlooking it all, was a figure in a black and gold cloak with a crown-like pattern atop the hood. Gold gloves gripped the microphone in one hand and a long scepter in the other. That scepter was held high above the cloaked figure¡¯s head, as she continued to cackle for another few seconds (just long enough for the civilians nearest the exit doors to get them open so that people could start fleeing through them). ¡°Seek your sanctuaries, fools! Your walls will wane, your feeble fortresses fall, your precious protectors prostrate, your lame leaders languish! For Vizier Vitrics rules above all! Fall to your knees and--¡±


    In mid-sentence, the figure paused, eyes glancing toward a man in one corner who was trying quite desperately to yank a door open. He pulled at it repeatedly, straining with all his might. Behind him, several others were huddled, pleading with him to hurry.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± came the voice through the microphone, ¡°Take them!¡± Pointing with the scepter, she sent a dozen glass-stick figures scrambling that way. Through sheer bad luck (of course), the vast majority crashed into one another and exploded into various shards, all of which managed to avoid actually hitting anyone and happened to take several very important seconds to pull themselves back together. Meanwhile, the one construct to actually escape the carnage flung itself wildly at the trapped group, managed to miss every single one of them, and slammed into the door itself just as the man who had been desperately pulling at it ducked aside with a yelp.


    As the construct slammed into the push handle, the door flew open, and everyone huddled nearby fled through it. Only once they were on their way did the cloaked figure stretch her hands above her head and resume cackling. With a sweeping gesture to one side, she sent half a dozen glass figures rushing to grab various paintings and other pieces of art from that wall. An equally grand gesture to the other side sent another half dozen to do the same there. Meanwhile, the security guards on the ground were staying very still as the reptilian-animals perched nearby and stared them down. This may have been the oddest robbery any of them had ever seen, but none were being paid enough to risk testing the patience of the lizards.


    On the other hand, while they wouldn¡¯t risk any confrontation, there were others who would.


    ¡°Hold it right there, fiendish felon!¡±


    As one, the security guards, lizard creatures, glass stick figures and dinosaur, and the cloaked figure atop it all looked toward the source of the shout. It came from the rear of the hangar room, atop a high rafter where a small black shape had perched. Being directly behind the entire assortment, they all had to turn one hundred and eighty degrees to face that way (the glass figures taking the time to put the paintings back on the wall carefully rather than simply dropping them). Only once they had did the diminutive form leap from the rafters, wings spreading out as he called, ¡°Shield of the city, feathered gift!¡±


    In that instant, two, almost invisibly small pouches on the raven¡¯s legs expanded into a set of red-gold armor, covering his body entirely to the point that he appeared to be more of a robot than a real bird. The only visibly biological part remaining was his small beak. Even his eyes were covered by a pair of tiny goggles.


    ¡°Ruby Force! Ace Birdbrain!¡± With that call, the armored raven did a quick barrel roll, spinning up and around through the air before swooping past, quite close to the cloaked figure. ¡°Cease and desist this villainy at once, or face the consequences!¡±


    Following the bird with her eyes, the girl pointed the scepter while starting to say something. Unfortunately, her voice didn¡¯t quite carry very well and the bird (whose own voice was magnified by one of the devices attached to him) had already swooped nearly back to where he had started. Quickly, she brought the microphone closer in order to bellow through the speakers throughout the room once more. ¡°You¡¯re a fool to face me alone, Birdbrain! Without your compatriots, my monstrous minions may maul you unhindered!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not alone!¡± That shout was also amplified through a microphone attached to a costume, as two more figures appeared. The pair (human this time) near one of the hangar exits, directly opposite where the bird had appeared. Which meant that, to see them, the assorted minions and their leader would have to turn back around once more. In the midst of doing just that, the air was filled with a pair of simultaneous shouts.


    ¡°Shield of the city, Shining Gift! Emerald Force! Guardian Swiftkick!¡±


    ¡°Shield of the city, Shining Gift! Silver Force! Patroller Cloudburst!¡±


    And just like that, as the villainous eyes fell on the new arrivals, they were faced with Patroller Cloudburst (clad in her gleaming silver-blue armor, cloak, skirt, and boot), and Guardian Swiftkick (adorned by near-matching emerald-white armor, with dragonfly wings rather than a cloak). Both stood several feet apart from one another, fists on their hips as they stared up at the towering glass tyrannosaurus.


    Seeing the two below, while the armored bird flew in slow circles to keep a sharp eye on what was happening, the clearly maniacal supervillain promptly laughed. ¡°Finally! You have deigned to show yourselves! It¡¯s only my third appearance this week, what does a lady have to do to get a little attention around here?!¡±


    From where she was standing, Cloudburst reflexively muttered, ¡°We couldn¡¯t help it, she wasn¡¯t allowed to go out until she finished this history project and--¡± An abrupt and aggressive bout of throat clearing from her partner made her amend, ¡°I mean, you have our attention now, villain! A fact you shall soon regret!¡±


    ¡°Regret?¡± came the retort. ¡°Do you want to know what I regret?!¡± Without waiting for an answer, the figure leapt from the top of the dinosaur. Immediately, the entire form shattered apart, reforming into a facsimile of a grand, elaborate staircase complete with banister. As she landed on the newly created stairway, the cloak with its crown-like hood design was dramatically swept aside, to reveal the girl beneath was also made entirely of glass, from her head to her toes. She looked almost like an ice statue, albeit an ambulatory one. Standing just under five and a half feet tall. The glass of her body had been meticulously designed to appear as though it was covered by intricate chainmail, though it was all the same structure. As were the ¡®pants and boots.¡¯ The only actual clothes she seemed to wear were those gold gloves.


    Even as the cloak dramatically drifted away, she began to descend the stairs while continuing to speak into the microphone, voice bellowing through the public address system. ¡°I regret permitting priceless pieces to perch pristine before puzzled pedestrian patrons perusing platitudinous plaques.¡±


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    By that point, the glass figure had reached the bottom of the stairs, directly in front of the two other girls. Both of whom tilted their heads to the side and stared at her quizzically.


    ¡°Huh?¡± Swiftkick managed.


    Swooping down from above, Birdbrain alighted upon a tall sign meant to direct visitors to the various displays. ¡°I believe what she said was, ¡®I don¡¯t like other people looking at this art.¡¯"


    ¡°They are plebians who know not its true value!¡± she insisted. Behind and around her, the lizards and glass stick-figures approached to form a semi-circle before the trio.


    ¡°And you do?¡± Cloudburst countered. ¡°Who are you, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Of course I know its value!¡± With that bellow, the figure paused before giving a sly wink (a rather odd effect when portrayed through glass). ¡°After all, I¡¯ve already lined up buyers for it. And I am Vizier Vitrics!¡± The glass mouth formed into a wide, cheshire smile, speaking without the microphone for once. ¡°And you are the shields of the city.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, Vitrics!¡± Swiftkick retorted, drawing herself up to point that way. ¡°You and all your little glass minions here are gonna put every single one of those pieces back where they belong! They aren¡¯t yours!¡±


    ¡°Oh, absolutely!¡± the villainess began, before holding up a single finger. ¡°Ah, just one small thing though. About my minions?¡± A pointed pause for effect followed, before she lowered her voice conspiratorially. ¡°They aren¡¯t all glass.¡±


    In that instant, a shot of red paint struck Cloudburst on one side, before she was yanked flying, tumbling head over heels to land at the feet of a familiar figure in a long-sleeved white shirt (textured to look like chainmail) under a long red jacket, loose-fitting black cargo pants, and a red metal helmet with a thin black visor over the eyes.


    ¡°Ficheur?¡± Cloudburst dazedly asked from her prone position. ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Hi there!¡± the La Casa villain cheerfully greeted her with a wave. ¡°What can I say? I was bored and the lady makes a compelling argument for serving as one of her evil generals. She had a PowerPoint presentation and everything.¡± After a brief pause, she admitted, ¡°Of course, it was just one slide with the words ¡®I¡¯ll pay you¡¯ on it. But like I said, compelling argument.¡±


    ¡°Cloudburst!¡± Launching himself into the air, Birdbrain began to soar that way, just before a reptilian-bird swooped down from above, forcing him to barrel roll out of the way at the last second. The lizard-eagle barely avoided slamming into the ground, talons skimming the ground before she reoriented and chased after him. Soon, the two were performing truly inspiring aerial combat maneuvers throughout the rafters of the museum hangar.


    ¡°Now now, you didn¡¯t think I let my friends here come without me, did you?¡± That, of course, was Pack, who emerged from the shadows of a utility closet, gripping what appeared to be a long metal staff with a wide head at one end shaped almost like the attachment to a vacuum cleaner. She pointed that toward Swiftkick. ¡°We¡¯re a package deal.¡±


    With that, she pressed a button on the end of the staff-thing. From the wide end, a bubble of glowing red energy shot forth. It was about the size of a softball, though more oblong shaped. The energy blob flew like a fastball, expanding as it went until the thing was several times its original size.


    Swiftkick, however, was reacting even before Pack finished the motion. Her hand snapped up, and she blurted, ¡°Swift Switch!¡± From a small hole in her gauntlet, a tiny marble shot out. The marble flew just under the approaching blob of energy, before she hit the button on her glove that made herself and the marble switch places. It was returned to where she had just been standing, while Swiftkick herself appeared where it had already passed.


    As soon as the energy blob reached the spot where she had been (and where the marble now was), it burst, exploding apart like burst bubblegum. Bubblegum which instantly hardened into a form tough enough to survive several blows from a sledgehammer without breaking. Had Swiftkick still been standing there, she would have been encased and trapped.


    But she wasn¡¯t still standing there. Instead, she had appeared directly in front of Pack. Before the lizard-controlling girl could react, the magical girl¡¯s wings propelled her up and forward to slam into her with enough force that she was knocked to the floor with a yelp.


    Meanwhile, the red paint holding Cloudburst down had faded, and as Ficheur looked toward her own partner, the blue-and-silver clad girl at her feet sent a firehose-like spray of water from one hand. It slammed into her chest, knocking her up into the air with a squeal that was half-surprise and half-delight. That same spray continued as Cloudburst made it to her feet, though the force of it was clearly not enough to actually be holding the villain aloft the way it seemed to be. That, naturally, was more an effect of the girl¡¯s gravity-shifting powers.


    Seeing one of her generals duking it out with Swiftkick while the other was held aloft in the air by Cloudburst, and Riddles chased Birdbrain back and forth through the air, Vizier Vitrics gave another Cheshire smile. ¡°Thus the games have begun.¡± Raising the scepter above her head, she spoke into the microphone once more. ¡°Foolish friends favor a fight? Fine. Face my formidable though flaky flunkeys!¡±


    With that, all of the glass stick-figures shattered apart before reshaping into fewer, though more dangerous forms. There were fewer of them as it took more glass to make each, but these were seven-foot-tall gorilla-like beings with long bladed fingers and jagged glass blades sticking out of their elbows and knees. With the booming, magnified laugh of their owner filling the room around them, the newly-formed glass minions fell in to assist the generals in attacking the magical girls.


    And thus, the true battle for the museum began.


    ******


    Seven Minutes Later


    Like a crystalline avalanche, an explosion of glass burst through the main entrance doors of the museum from the inside. On the tip of that avalanche, Vitrics, the lizard-animals, and the two generals rode their way out. The jagged glass structure both within and now partially outside the hangar covered every exit and would take some time for those within to break through.


    ¡°Keep your precious art then, girls!¡± the villainess called into the microphone, voice still carrying through the loudspeakers within the museum behind them where their goodie two-shoes opponents would hear. ¡°But the next time we meet, you may find yourselves going from photorealistic to abstract!¡±


    With those words, she pressed a button on her scepter. As she did so, a heavy-duty pick-up truck came roaring out of nowhere, driven by no one. Pack, already shrinking her lizards down and returning them to the backpack cage with their companions (along with their still-full-sized burglar costumes), hoisted herself into the driver¡¯s seat, while the other two clambered into the back. A moment later, the truck peeled away, launching into traffic while horns of protest blared around them.


    The moment they were out of sight of the museum and the witnesses surrounding it, Pack took a hard right turn through an alley while pressing a button next to the steering wheel. As she did so, the truck shifted. It went from being green to red, while a camper shell rose up around what had previously been an open back. Within seconds, the previous description of the vehicle would come nowhere near fitting what reentered traffic on the next street over, immediately slowing down to avoid attention.


    ¡°That was fun!¡± Melissa Abbott crowed, arms raised above her head. Her form shrank down, returning to her own true (though still glass) nine-year-old appearance. She was smiling broadly, practically vibrating with excitement as she sat in the back of the truck. ¡°See, I told you they¡¯d show up this time. Those first couple were just flukes. And you wanted to stay home and watch the Discovery Channel.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s lizard week,¡± Dani retorted from the front seat, already having taken off her own mask so that no one driving past would see anything untoward. They had had their moment of being the center of attention. Now it was time to blend in until they could get away from what was rapidly becoming the center of a police and Star-Touched convention. ¡°My buddies all want to stay and watch it. They think they might see some of their relatives. You¡¯re just lucky we have DVR.¡±


    Unlatching her helmet and pulling it away from her head, Cassidy shook her hair out. ¡°Lizards are fun, I wanna watch that too,¡± she put in before offering a quick, cheerful grin toward Melissa. ¡°And yeah, sure, that was fun. I mean, the fighting part was. But running away without actually getting anything we were there for? That part wasn¡¯t.¡± She squinted curiously. ¡°How come you called a retreat right then? We totally could¡¯ve done better than that. At least we could¡¯ve gotten something.¡±


    Melissa, in turn, smiled slowly, her glass mouth turning up at the corners. ¡°And who said we didn¡¯t get what we went there for? Come on, guys, this is the magical girls¡¯ first encounter with the evil queen. They had the first couple episodes to fight nobodies so everyone can see how cool they are, and to practice their powers and stuff. That was the stuff we saw in the news already. Then they meet their archenemies. That¡¯s us! If we don¡¯t win at least a little bit in the episode where we get introduced, there aren¡¯t any real stakes! This is the part where the magical girls think they won, but then they find out we actually won.¡±


    Exchanging a confused look with Dani up in the truck cab, Cassidy cleared her throat. ¡°Ah, what exactly did we win? I mean, like I said, we ran out of there with nothing. I¡¯d ask if you stuffed a Monet in your pockets, but you don¡¯t have any.¡±


    In response, Melissa simply replied, ¡°Pull over here.¡± As an uncertain Dani did so, the young girl crawled to the back of the truck and pushed open the tailgate, giving a sharp whistle.


    Again, Dani and Cassidy exchanged looks. But a moment later, another familiar figure scrambled up into the truck, tugging the tailgate closed behind her with a cheerful, ¡°Whoo! Let¡¯s go! Come on, come on, come on, before someone catches up or figures out where I went!¡±


    ¡°Broadway?¡± Cassidy blurted, staring at their fellow La Casa Touched.


    Broadway (or KD), in turn, pulled her own helmet off, face flushed with excitement. ¡°What¡¯re we waiting for, a written invitation?¡± Shrugging a backpack off her shoulders, she unzipped it and emptied out a pile of jewelry and cash. There had to be at least a hundred thousand dollars worth lying right there in front of them.


    ¡°Everyone at that museum tonight makes seven figures, minimum,¡± Melissa informed her two surprised generals. "All we had to do was make a big show and distract those girls, while all the rich people ran right where we wanted them, all huddled in a group. Then KD showed up and robbed them. She took everything they brought with them, so we have cash and jewelry instead of a bunch of obviously stolen unique art to try to sell.¡± With a new smile, she slowly added, ¡°As for the magical girl gang back there¡­


    ¡°They have an archenemy.¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-01

    The next few days were even busier than I had thought they would be. As much as we all wanted to focus on digging out that tunnel, the gang war was only getting worse. There was something going on between Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners. I wasn¡¯t sure what, but it seemed like their alliance was fracturing. I¡¯d heard something about Grandstand going off on some of the Ninety-Niner people for some reason.


    Whatever it was, it didn¡¯t make the war any easier. If anything, it was getting worse. Amber and Pack had a few remarks back and forth about it, eventually leading to the latter pointing out that she had zero control over what Blackjack did anyway. She was essentially at the bottom of the pile as far as La Casa Touched went. Even if she wanted to tell him to call it off, which she didn¡¯t because she and everyone else in that gang wanted to really stick it to the people who had put Blackjack¡¯s daughter¡¯s life in danger, she couldn¡¯t. The man himself wanted Oscuro and Ninety-Niner blood for the shit they had pulled, and he was so well-liked by his people that they were right there with him. Pack had no say in telling them to ease off.


    In the end, Amber knew that, of course. But she did get Pack to at least agree to point out to Blackjack that the war escalating too much would drive people out of the city, which would be bad for business. I had a pretty good feeling that my parents had already made that clear to him as well, given how much they relied on the city being under control to be profitable. Still, it clearly made Amber feel a little better. Not to mention the realization after a particularly loud argument between them that Pack did feel at least somewhat guilty about the level of violence the war had escalated to.


    The problem, I had realized, was that none of the gangs involved could back off without the others pouncing on them for weakness. Blackjack had his righteous (and earned) anger about the threat to his daughter, but even beyond that, he couldn¡¯t withdraw La Casa from the confrontations even if he wanted to, because to pull back would make Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners sense blood in the water and push even harder. The fact that it was about the threat to his daughter¡¯s life made that whole situation even worse, because being seen as too weak to keep the war going when he was fighting for her would be catastrophic.


    And then there was the fact that the Easy Eights were fighting alongside La Casa. If Blackjack withdrew his people, it could piss off Deicide and her lieutenants and make them turn on their former allies. Rather than stopping the war, La Casa withdrawing on their own without an agreement from the other three sides involved could actually make the whole thing worse.


    It was all so complicated. And what it amounted to was that there was a lot of violence in the city right now. A situation that was only getting worse. We worked in the tunnel as much as we possibly could over those few days, but that didn¡¯t amount to nearly as much as I had hoped it would. Amber and Izzy were kept pretty busy on extra patrols, Pack had her own La Casa business to help with, and Alloy and I didn¡¯t want to just completely ignore the actual helping people part of being Star-Touched. Besides, if we disappeared from the streets for days at a time leading up to when the Ministry¡¯s secret base was broken into, I was pretty sure they could put one and one together and end up somewhere close to two.


    So, we had to be visible out there. We had to keep helping people not only because it was the right thing to do, but because my family would be suspicious otherwise. Which severely limited the time we could work on the tunnel at all, to say nothing of when we could all work on it together. Still, we did the best we could. Murphy and Roald actually tried to work on it a bit while we weren¡¯t there, but they didn¡¯t make that much progress by themselves. Plus, Wren needed them at the shop to help her work on the stuff she had in mind for when we actually finished the tunnel.


    And, of course, we had school and family things to work with. All of which meant that, in those few days, we had finished digging out what we were calling the entryway of the tunnel. It was a twelve foot wide circular area about ten feet down from the floor of that motel room. Which wasn¡¯t quite as low as we wanted to be by the time we got all the way to the mall, but we would slope the tunnel downward a bit as we went. We had a metal ladder for climbing in and out of the hole, which we had secured against the dirt wall by using a purple-paint strength boost to hammer u-shaped metal things against the legs of it in several places, keeping it from moving.


    As for the tunnel itself, it was six feet high, a few feet wide, and extended about twenty feet. We were pretty sure that now that we had the main entry finished, the ladder set up, and a decent system for digging and removing the dirt and rocks, the work would go a bit faster. At least, as fast as we could make it go with all the other stuff we had to keep up with.


    Now, it was late Friday evening. Or Saturday morning, depending on how you really looked at it. Most of the others had left to either get some sleep or work on other things they had to do. The only ones left here, sitting in the motel room above the tunnel together for a few minutes before we would leave too, were Alloy, Murphy, Roald, and myself. We had already covered up the hole with the pallet full of cement mix over the rug, and were sitting there on folding chairs that Pack had brought. It had been a minute or so since any of us spoke, just sitting together in the near-darkness (we had a flashlight sitting nearby, but it was turned down low so we could barely make each other out), thinking about how much more work we had to do. At least, that¡¯s what I was thinking about.


    ¡°I guess,¡± Roald spoke up to finally break the silence, ¡°if it was easy to break into this place, people would be doing it all the time.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s gonna be a lot of work before we get in there. But it¡¯ll be worth it. I hope.¡± With a sigh, I added, ¡°Still wish we could bribe Undermine to do some of the work for us. Do you think we¡¯d still be considered superheroes if we abduct him and tell him we¡¯ll let him go after he digs a tunnel for us?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t tempt me,¡± Alloy muttered before pushing herself to her feet. Her voice was quieter as she stepped over to look out the nearby glassless window. ¡°You guys heard about that reporter lady?¡±


    Wincing, I stood up with a short nod. ¡°Jolene Iverson. They killed her even though she used one of those appearance changer things. That-A-Way was talking about how messed up Whamline is about it. He had to take some days off. They don¡¯t know when he¡¯ll be ready to go back.¡±


    ¡°Did¡­ did he see it happen?¡± That was Murphy, looking over at me.


    I knew why she was asking that. Jolene Iverson had been shot, like Tyson. She wanted to know if Whamline had seen the woman die the way she had witnessed her brother¡¯s murder. I wanted to say something that might be helpful, but all that came out was a slightly belated, ¡°No. Well, sort of. There was some concussive flashbomb or something. They think one of the Scion thugs managed to attach it to the side of the van where the rear left window was and set it off. Linesight was driving and the force flipped the vehicle. By the time Whamline woke up, all he saw was some figure standing over Jolene with a gun. He¡­ couldn¡¯t move fast enough to stop them.¡±


    ¡°He must feel like shit.¡± Murphy¡¯s voice was hoarse, the pain very evident in it as she put her hands against the windowsill and stared intently out into the darkness. ¡°He was right there and couldn¡¯t stop it. Couldn¡¯t even catch up with the guy before he got away. Couldn¡¯t save Jolene Iverson, couldn¡¯t catch the guy who killed her. Couldn¡¯t do anything. Fucking useless.¡±


    Yeah, I didn¡¯t exactly need a map to tell me the name of the track this particular train of thought was on. Wincing to myself, I glanced at the other two before stepping that way. ¡°They¡¯ll find that guy, just like we¡¯ll find ours. You¨C¡±


    ¡°His funeral¡¯s tomorrow,¡± Murphy interrupted. Which was fine, because I had no idea where I was going with that. ¡°Tyson¡¯s funeral. Roald¡¯s sister did all the work. I couldn¡¯t even help with that. Didn¡¯t know who to talk to, what to say. I¡¯m just a stupid kid anyway, they wouldn¡¯t listen.¡±


    My eyes closed briefly as I fought for words. Fuck. What was I supposed to say? I knew it had to be me, I just¡­ I had nothing. No idea how to make it better. Or at least make it hurt less right at this moment. Finally, the only thing I could manage was a weak, ¡°I wanted to come to the funeral. We both did.¡± I gestured toward Alloy. ¡°But¡­¡±


    ¡°But if you came as yourselves, we¡¯d have no idea who you are and people would wonder what you were doing there,¡± Murphy finished for me. ¡°And if you came in costume, you¡¯d be drawing attention to us. People might wonder why a couple superheroes were hanging out at the funeral for a nobody, and then they¡¯d look at his nobody sister and¨C¡±


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    ¡°Stop that,¡± I interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re not a nobody, Murphy. Neither of you are. But yeah. We can¡¯t really¨CI mean I can¡¯t¡­¡± Yeah, I had really struggled with this. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Not just for the funeral thing. For all of it. I¡¯m sorry about what happened.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± she replied, turning away from the window finally to face me. ¡°Just keep doing what you¡¯re doing. Help dig this tunnel so we can find that piece of shit and put him where he belongs.¡±


    Meeting her gaze, I gave a short nod. ¡°You got it. Whatever it takes, we¡¯ll bring him in. For now,¡± I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. ¡°You say goodbye to Tyson, okay? Don¡¯t¨C¡± My throat closed up briefly and I had to swallow hard. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about anything else. Whether it¡¯s at the funeral, the memorial, in the shower, at breakfast, or standing all by yourself out in the yard, just¡­ say goodbye to him. We¡¯ll be there when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    She gave a murmur of agreement, then started out the door. Roald glanced back at the rest of us before following after, the two of them disappearing into the darkness together.


    Which left Alloy and me sitting there alone in the room. Not exactly looking at each other. Both of us were silently gazing at the door the other two had disappeared through. I was pretty sure she was wishing just as much as I was that we could do something to really help Murphy. Finally, I pushed myself. ¡°I guess we should head out too. A lot going on tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°What, uhh, time are we supposed to be there?¡± Peyton asked while picking herself up as well.


    ¡°Hallowed said the party thing was at eight pm,¡± I replied. ¡°He also said the food would be worth sitting through all the boring speeches.¡± Including one from my father, apparently. Which would be an interesting thing to sit through, to say the least. I was just glad I had a mask and helmet to hide my reactions.


    Peyton stopped by the door as I passed through it to the construction lot beyond. ¡°So I show up at nine-thirty if I want to eat without all the speeches?¡± When I looked at her, she snickered and held up both hands. ¡°I¡¯m kidding. I¡¯ll be there, I promise. We¡¯re still meeting at Wren¡¯s, right?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed while giving her a thumbs up. ¡°I figure if we meet up around seven, that gives us plenty of time to talk before we head over there. I really don¡¯t want to show up early. There¡¯s only so much of that I can take.¡±


    Peyton shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, it shouldn¡¯t be that bad, right? I mean, sure, there¡¯s definitely gonna be some Ministry people there and all. But still, not all of them. And seriously, how often do you get to go to one of these big fancy parties?¡±


    I had a feeling the truth wasn¡¯t the right answer to give right then. So, I simply coughed. ¡°Right, yeah. At least we get to see some interesting people and all that. Good food and interesting people. Some of whom would kill us if they knew what we know.¡±


    Clearly grimacing, the other girl retorted, ¡°You really know how to be a party pooper, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Holding up both hands before crossing my heart, I promised, ¡°I¡¯m not gonna be like that at the party. Just getting it out of my system. We¡¯ll go and have a good time. Just keep your eyes open and don¡¯t let your guard down too much while you¡¯re having it. We watch each other¡¯s backs, yeah?¡±


    She gave a quick nod. ¡°That¡¯s what sidekicks-slash-partners are for. Well, that and some other things, I¡¯m sure.¡± Sobering then, the girl added, ¡°I know it¡¯s a pretty big deal to go to something like this. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be right there with you. Just don¡¯t forget to have fun there, too, huh?¡±


    ¡°If I do, remind me,¡± I replied. ¡°That¡¯s another thing partners are for.¡± Pivoting, I gestured. ¡°And speaking of remembering to have fun, you ready for another race so I can kick your butt again?¡±


    Making an affronted noise, Peyton retorted, ¡°Oh, you wish! I¡¯m gonna beat you so fast, it¡¯ll rip a hole in space-time and we¡¯ll end up right back here like it never happened.¡± She gave a sudden, exaggerated spasm. ¡°Whoa, what¨Chey, what¡¯d I tell you? Kicked your butt, hole in space-time, right back here.¡±


    Snickering despite myself, I shook my head. ¡°You know, somehow I don¡¯t think I believe you. You¡¯ll just have to show me again. I think I¡¯ll go ahead and risk the damage to the timeline.¡±


    And with that, the two of us took off together. Peyton using her board and grapple things, while I had my paint. She was getting even better at it than she had been to start out, but I had my own tricks too. Even if I had promised not to use yellow paint on her, which she considered cheating for some reason.


    Unfortunately, we didn¡¯t get a chance to find out which one of us would have won that particular race. As I was right on the edge of a roof with a hair¡¯s-width lead and about to extend it with a blue-assisted leap, a shout from below caught my attention. Instinctively, I dropped into a crouch and pivoted that way. In the distance, almost out of sight, a homeless guy was being accosted by three guys who looked like they were part of the Easy Eights. Why they felt the need to push him around when they had a whole war going on, I had no idea. But I definitely didn¡¯t like it. Not one bit.


    Thankfully, Peyton immediately realized something was up when I stopped and turned like that. So she was quiet as she came in for a landing next to me. Her voice was low. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Gesturing, I whispered, ¡°Those guys think it¡¯s a good idea to pick on the homeless. I think we should teach them a lesson.¡± Realizing belatedly that I shouldn¡¯t volunteer her for things, I added, ¡°If you¡¯re up for it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I am definitely up for it,¡± she confirmed. ¡°How about you get their attention with the leadoff, and I¡¯ll bat cleanup.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh, insert appropriate baseball response here.¡± Giving her a quick nod, I took a few steps back for momentum, then raced forward and shot blue ahead to launch myself into the air. Before, I had been pretty ready to get home and fall into bed. But now? Now I was angry. These people weren¡¯t making the city bad enough as it was, they had to start shit with some homeless person? Hell no. I wasn¡¯t going to let that stand.


    Using red paint against the roof of a building further on to carry me over the two guys, I could see their weapons. One was holding a wooden bat with a few nails through the end, while the second only had a knife. The third guy, however, was holding a revolver, which he kept pointing at the homeless man while laughing. That was the more dangerous one. If I tried to mess with him or his gun the wrong way and it went off, I could create the very tragedy I was trying to stop.


    So, of course, my first move, as I released the red paint power and let myself drop to the ground, was to send a shot of orange paint straight at the homeless guy. It hit him in the side, making the man and the three guys harassing him all curse in surprise.


    By that point, I had landed in a crouch, using a bit of orange of my own on my shoes to cushion it. ¡°Now, come on guys,¡± I called out. ¡°I know he¡¯s smarter, cooler, and all-around better looking than all of you combined, but why don¡¯t you back up and give the poor guy some room to breathe? I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll give you all the autographs and life advice you want.¡±


    Apparently knife-guy thought his weapon was pretty inadequate too, because he immediately took off running in the opposite direction. Unfortunately for him, he only managed to take a few steps before one of Alloy¡¯s marbles flew in front of his face and transformed into a pair of thick manacles with an attached chain, which wrapped itself around the nearby lamp post while the manacle parts clamped onto his wrists.


    Gun-guy, meanwhile, decided to point his revolver at me. But even as he was turning my way, I hit the weapon with one shot of red paint and the inside of a nearby open dumpster with another. Before he could pull the trigger, the gun was yanked from his grasp and went flying that way. The force of the paint pulling the weapon from him made him turn slightly, and by the time he recovered, I had already activated green lightning bolts along my legs and up over my sides, along with a purple lion face across my chest. I was right there, catching him by his outstretched arm before giving a hard yank to pull him off-balance toward me. The enhanced strength gave me enough of a boost to throw myself into an backwards flip up and over his head as he stumbled past me, before I landed hard on his shoulders and back to knock him to the ground.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured him while perched on his back, using my temporarily boosted strength to hold him down. ¡°I know you tired yourself out with the whole trying to beat up one helpless guy with two of your friends. So why don¡¯t you take a nap?¡± With that, I shoved both of his hands into the pink spots on the concrete that I had just created, before releasing the power to trap them there. ¡°I¡¯ll even tuck you in!¡±


    Meanwhile, the guy with the nail bat was swinging it wildly at a second bat that had been made by one of the other marbles and was basically fencing with him. At least, that¡¯s how it went until the marble-bat managed to trick the guy into turning far enough that Alloy was able to fly down from above on her board, jumping off it at the last second before the board itself slammed into his back. He was knocked to the ground and the board wrapped around him to pin his arms to his sides while he struggled.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I noted, ¡°I guess she was board of you.¡±


    ¡°Ew,¡± Alloy remarked, straightening up beside me. ¡°I think I took psychic damage from that.¡± To the man on the ground, she advised, ¡°Do yourself a favor and uhh, stay down. Or he¡¯ll make an even worse pun. Don¡¯t test him.¡±


    Together, we turned to look at the man these guys had been attacking. ¡°Are you okay?¡± I asked. ¡°What did these jerks even want from you?¡±


    He, in turn, hesitated before giving a short nod. ¡°I¨Cy-yes. Thanks. You¨Cthey thought I was a spy for Oscuro in their territory. Because I¡¯m Puerto Rican.¡±


    Heaving a sigh, I shook my head. ¡°They¡¯re morons. I¨Chere.¡± Reaching into my pocket, I produced a few twenty dollar bills and pressed them into the man¡¯s hand. ¡°Find a motel for the night, get off the streets. There should be enough there for a night, some food, and a change of clothes if you go to the secondhand shop.¡±


    He hurriedly thanked me and rushed off, before Alloy spoke up. ¡°Man, that must¡¯ve been like¡­. three weeks allowance. Wait, do you have a job delivering papers or something?¡± Belatedly, she realized. ¡°Right, probably shouldn¡¯t ask that right here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, probably not,¡± I agreed before turning my attention (and changing the subject) to the three gang guys. ¡°Let¡¯s send a message to the cops to come pick up these assholes.


    ¡°After all, it¡¯s late and I have to be ready for my paper route in the morning.¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-02

    The next morning was Saturday. It was also the day of Tyson¡¯s funeral. Some part of me had had the wild thought that even if I couldn¡¯t appear as Paintball because of the connection it would draw to Murphy, maybe I could at least go as myself. Except that was a bad idea too. Even if people didn¡¯t recognize me (and to be honest, most wouldn¡¯t because I didn¡¯t fit what they assumed the daughter of Elena and Sterling Evans would look like), they would still wonder why I was there. After all, this clearly wasn¡¯t going to be some big crowded event. If I attended, I would be noticed. Especially by Murphy and Roald, who would wonder why some girl they had never seen before was sitting in on the funeral.


    Not for the first time, I wondered if I should just come straight out and tell all of them exactly who I was, and the full truth about this entire situation. But there were things still holding me back. I trusted them, of course. But if I let them know who I was, I didn¡¯t know how it would change¡­ everything. How they thought about me, how they¨Cbut no. No, that wasn¡¯t the important thing. The most important thing was that I was afraid of what would happen if my identity happened to somehow get further than that. Or if my parents found out they knew something and¡­ talked to them. If they didn¡¯t know who I was, they would have no way of telling¨C but that put them in danger too. If they couldn¡¯t tell my parents what they wanted to know, if they¨Cso I should tell them. But if I told them, I didn¡¯t have control over who found out. Or even less control than I already had, given Izzy and Amber knew. But they didn¡¯t¨Cbut if my parents¨C


    God damn it. I had no idea what to do, or what the best move was. Every time I thought that I was bound and determined to just tell them all the truth, my stomach twisted in on itself and I couldn¡¯t do it. I wasn¡¯t even sure exactly why not. I just couldn¡¯t make myself take that step. Something in my head kept telling me that it was something I couldn¡¯t take back. If I told Murphy, Roald, Wren, Peyton, and Fred all who I really was, I just¡­ Something about that felt like too big of a step. It was so dangerous. Even telling them as much as I had was dangerous, of course. But totally revealing all of my secrets was just¡­ I felt queasy at the thought. Was that stupid? Was I being dumb about this whole thing? Should I just bite the bullet and go for it? Maybe¡­ maybe later. Yeah, I just had to let them process what I had already told them. It was too much to dump on all of them all at once. Later, maybe I would see what¨Chow they dealt with it.


    Telling myself that made sense helped somewhat. But then, it didn¡¯t actually solve my original problem. I wanted to do something for Tyson¡¯s funeral. I couldn¡¯t just sit around and ignore it. Of course I didn¡¯t know the guy, and what little I did know about him didn¡¯t paint a very flattering picture. But he didn¡¯t deserve to die, and Murphy had said that he was trying to turn his life around. Except now he would never have that chance. Just ignoring his funeral, when my family was the reason that his murderer was still free, was wrong. I couldn¡¯t do that.


    In the end, I had to do something for it. Even if I couldn¡¯t actually attend the funeral itself, I could at least be nearby. So, I found myself taking a seat on the roof of a building across the street from the cemetery where the funeral was being performed. Well, we kept calling it a funeral. It was more of a simple graveside service. They couldn¡¯t afford some big event at a church. And it seemed like they didn¡¯t have the family or friends to fill such a thing anyway. That part didn¡¯t surprise me, given everything I had heard and already knew about the Murphys.


    The building was really too far away to make out much of the funeral. Which was kind of the point, given I didn¡¯t want to be seen attending it. But that was what high-powered binoculars were for. Nestled in a sitting position with my back to an air conditioning unit, I lifted the front of the helmet so I could put the binoculars against my eyes and scan that way. Now I could see what was going on more clearly. They were all standing around the open grave with the casket ready to be lowered into it. Murphy was there, in an ill-fitting suit that looked as though it had been patched several times. Roald was standing next to her in a suit of his own, which didn¡¯t look much better. There was a smaller girl right beside him whom I assumed was his younger sister. The older sister, if I guessed right, was standing a little further away talking to what looked like the man who would be giving the service once they got started in a few minutes.


    My eyes scanned over the rest of the people, not that there were many beyond that. I did, however, catch sight of a van approaching through the winding cemetery road that had the Detroit Department of Corrections logo on it. Which gave me pause for a moment before I realized. It was Murphy¡¯s parents. That had to be it, right? If they were going to be given leave from prison for anything, it would be the funeral of their son. Somehow, I hadn¡¯t even considered the fact that they would be there. How would they react to the whole thing? How would Murphy react to them being there? Suddenly, I felt more like a creepy voyeur than I had ever intended. This was wrong. I had felt so strongly that I needed to be here, but now I was questioning that whole thing. Maybe the truth was that while being here might make me feel better, I was actually just spying on things I didn¡¯t deserve to see. This service wasn¡¯t for me. It was¨C


    A sound nearby interrupted my inner turmoil, and I quickly lowered the binoculars and turned to see a familiar figure landing on the roof nearby. Peyton, in her newest purple and black armor configuration. As the hoverboard transitioned back into her bronze and gold marbles, she spoke up. ¡°You couldn¡¯t stay away either, huh?¡±


    Grateful, for more than one reason, that I still had my ski mask to hide my face even with the front of the helmet lifted up, I hesitated before giving a short nod. ¡°But now I¡¯m starting to rethink that. It feels weird to spy on them, you know? LIke I¡¯m being a shady creep.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll tell them we were there,¡± Peyton offered with a hesitant shrug. ¡°I mean, we¡¯ll tell them you were there. I already said I would try to find a way to watch. I was looking around for a decent place when I saw you down here. It umm¡­¡± She trailed off before sighing while taking a seat next to me, both of our backs to the metal box. ¡°This whole thing sucks, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s definitely not fun,¡± I replied simply before raising the binoculars again. The van had stopped by that point, a couple hundred feet from where the burial was happening. I could see a couple of prison guards opening it up to help the occupants out. I didn¡¯t recognize them, of course. But I could tell that they were Murphy¡¯s parents. One was an average-height slender black man with long, incredibly luxurious-looking hair. The other was a somewhat tall caucasian woman with brownish-blonde hair and a nervous look about her. She kept glancing around constantly, as though convinced they were being watched. Which¡­ well, yeah. Both of them were wearing prison jumpsuits and were still handcuffed as the guards helped them down from the van and then started to escort them over to where the service was happening. All of which seemed stupid to me. They were in prison for simple drug offenses. Couldn¡¯t they be given normal clothes to wear so they could attend their own son¡¯s funeral without looking like Hannibal Lector? I mean, yeah sure it wasn¡¯t that bad, but still. This was ridiculous. Just unchain them and let them say goodbye to their son, for fuck¡¯s sake.


    I was so focused on my annoyance about that whole situation while following the moving parents with the binoculars, that I almost jumped when Peyton nudged me while saying something. I¡¯d half-forgotten she was there in my distraction. ¡°Huh¨Cwhat?¡±


    ¡°I said,¡± she repeated, ¡°Doesn¡¯t it seem fucked up that they think they need four armed guards just to watch over a couple grieving parents, who are still chained up? They just sold some drugs to willing people, it¡¯s not like they murdered the pope or something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed in a flat voice, ¡°it¡¯s a bit of overkill.¡± Even as I said that, I realized what she had said. Four guards? I had counted three, the driver and two helping the Murphys down. Looking back that way once more without the binoculars zooming me in so much, I finally caught sight of the fourth guy. He was a bit further back, having apparently gotten out the far side of the van before trailing behind. From this distance, I could barely make out anything about him. And yet, there was something immediately familiar about¨C


    Raising the binoculars quickly once more, I focused that way. And then almost cursed vehemently out loud. Of course the fourth guard looked familiar. It was Simon. My brother. The person who was the entire reason Murphy¡¯s brother¡¯s murderer had escaped unscathed. He was dressed up like a prison guard, escorting their parents to the funeral. What¨Cwhy? What the fuck? Why the hell was he here? What did he think he was doing? Was this some sort of sick joke or something? Why would he ever come to a funeral like this? I knew he wasn¡¯t a real prison guard. He had to be using one of those hologram things or something. But either way, why? What the hell did he get out of being here? What was¨Cwhy¨Cwhat?


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Uh,¡± Peyton spoke up curiously. ¡°You okay? You¡¯re holding those binoculars so tight it looks like you might snap them in half. And they look pretty fancy, so you probably don¡¯t want to do that.¡±


    Forcing myself to lower them and look back to her, I kept my voice as even as I could. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good. I mean, no I¡¯m not. I¡¯m really pissed off about this whole situation. But I¡¯m about as good as you could expect.¡± After a brief pause, I added quietly, ¡°I¡¯m doing better than Murphy.¡±


    With a sigh, the other girl slumped back a bit next to me and reached into a compartment she had added to her armor, pulling out some binoculars of her own. Lifting them up, she looked that way and murmured, ¡°This whole situation is pretty fucked up, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Wincing inwardly, I nodded. ¡°Pretty fucked up indeed.¡± She had no idea just how much. Even as that thought came to mind, I was adjusting the binoculars to check on Simon again. He was standing at the edge of the funeral, playing the role of a guard watching over their prisoners even as Murphy¡¯s parents embraced her. There was¡­ there was a lot of emotion going on there. I quickly moved the view back over to Simon, not wanting to intrude on a family thing like that. He was staring intently, not at the Murphys, but at the casket. He looked¡­ not happy.


    I had no idea what to make of that. I have no idea why he was here, what was going through his mind, why he looked angry while staring at the casket containing the body of the guy whose murderer he had helped esca¨Cokay, when I put it like that, It sort of sounded like he felt guilty. But did he? I didn¡¯t trust my own judgment about that whole thing. I couldn¡¯t think of any other reason why he would be here. Was he going to all the funerals? Or was there something special about this one? Was I being incredibly naive? Maybe there was a valid reason beyond guilt for a member of the Ministry to come here. Maybe he was making sure there were no more loose ends. And the anger was because he had something else he wanted to do more, and blamed Murphy¡¯s brother for making him miss it.


    Okay that felt a little too far to the other end of the naive/cynical line. Both of those felt wrong, but I had no idea what the actual answer could be. Why was Simon here, and why did he look so upset when he looked at that casket?


    Unfortunately, I was pretty sure that, short of marching down there and demanding answers from him in person, I wasn¡¯t going to get any right now. And, come to think of it, that probably wouldn¡¯t help either. Even if it was really tempting just to see the look on his face if I had actually confronted him. Maybe being taken by surprise like that would make him give something away that he wouldn¡¯t have otherwise. But no, this wasn¡¯t the right time for that sort of desperate move. Especially not now. I wasn¡¯t going to ruin the funeral just because I wanted to violently shake my brother until he spat out real answers.


    Instead, I made myself put that thought away and focus on the funeral as a whole. For around an hour while people spoke and said their goodbyes, Peyton and I both sat there watching. Every once in a while we spoke quietly to each other, but for the most part we just sat silently and observed. It still felt a bit like we were intruding, yet this was the best we could do. Now that I saw Simon there, I knew not physically attending the funeral properly was the right way to go. A terrifying thought of what he would have done if I had been down there as myself raced through my mind, and I shuddered inwardly. That could have been really bad.


    Eventually, the service was over, and Tyson¡¯s casket was in the ground. Several of the people, including Murphy and Roald, had each shoveled some dirt over it, then watched as a backhoe did the rest of the work. Once he was completely buried, goodbyes were said. That lasted for about five minutes or so, while Murphy and her parents had a whole¡­ thing. It felt awful just sitting here, my emotions twisting inside my stomach. Again, they were only in prison on drug offenses. Couldn¡¯t they be released for a couple days to help their daughter get through this whole thing?


    If they were rich, they would have been. It was no question. Hell, their prison would have been a country club, and they would have been given at least two weeks leave from it to handle funeral arrangements and everything else. But they weren¡¯t rich. So they were fucked over by the system that was supposed to protect them.


    As those thoughts worked their way through my mind, and made it even harder to avoid snapping the binoculars, I watched Simon and the real guards lead their charges back to the van. Meanwhile, the rest of the (rather small) crowd was dispersing as Roald¡¯s older sister led the others across to another lot where a beat-up sedan was waiting. From what Murphy herself had said, they would now go to get some lunch at a buffet somewhere. Obviously, I wasn¡¯t going to follow them. I was tempted to follow the prison van just to see what Simon did, but that was probably a pretty bad idea too.


    Which left me sitting next to Peyton as the two of us looked at each other. With a heavy sigh, I muttered, ¡°Well, that pretty much sucked, huh?¡±


    ¡°Hoover-level sucking,¡± she agreed. ¡°Can we go find some bad guys to beat up? I need to get it out of my system, and the people I really wanna punch, I¡­ can¡¯t. Not yet, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± I agreed, pushing myself up. ¡°Let¡¯s take a bite out of crime.¡±


    *****


    Unfortunately, McGruff the Crime Dog would have starved that day. No matter where Peyton and I went, we couldn¡¯t find any criminals to deal with. It even looked like the always-rampaging gang war had decided to take a timeout for the day. Which was just typical, really. The one time we wanted to find bad guys, they had all decided to go on vacation. Or maybe we just sucked at finding them. It was, after all, a pretty big city.


    Whatever the reason, we finally gave up after a couple hours. We both had other things we wanted to take care of before that big dinner thing tonight. So, after warning the other girl again that she had better show up to the event hungry given how much food there would be, I headed off. My brain was full of thoughts that I didn¡¯t want to have, yet wouldn¡¯t go away. Mostly revolving around what the hell was going on with Simon going to the funeral. Yeah, that was clearly a whole thing. There was no way I was going to be able to figure it out just based on what little information I had, but that wouldn¡¯t stop my brain from obsessing about it. Because brains were stupid like that and often refused to listen to common sense.


    I was hungry, but after all of that, there was no way I was going home just yet. So, I changed clothes to avoid attracting attention, and found a small, out-of-the-way Indian place to eat at. It was pretty incredible, even distracted as I was. So, I made a mental note to come back another time, and to bring the others.


    As I was getting up to leave, my phone buzzed with a text. The one for Cassidy Evans, rather than Paintball. So, I took a look. It was from that Dani girl, inviting me out to that skatepark on Grand River. Right, that whole thing about people from school talking me into doing dangerous shit for fun. For a moment, I squinted and considered asking for a raincheck. But no, I needed some way of distracting myself from everything. Later tonight, I was going to have to play nice in public while my father and others gave their big speeches and all that. Going while I was still tense about the whole situation with Tyson probably wasn¡¯t a good idea. If I couldn¡¯t let off steam by finding crime to fight, maybe I could do it this way.


    So, in the end, I sent back a text saying I would be there as soon as possible. I just needed to grab my stuff from home. I would head in, grab it, and head out again. No reason to stick around. With any luck, I would avoid Simon and my parents altogether. Sure, it was Saturday, but they had plenty of their own stuff to do before that party.


    *****


    For once, I wasn¡¯t completely proven wrong about my assumptions. My family was occupied with their own things, and I was able to get in, grab my stuff, order a ride, and get out without any interruptions. A short while later, I arrived at the skatepark, paid the driver, and headed over to where I could see a bunch of people from my school already hanging out.


    Dani was there, talking to someone with their back to me. As I approached, she gestured and called out, ¡°There she is. Told you the richest teenager in Detroit wouldn¡¯t blow us off.¡±


    Rolling my eyes, I retorted, ¡°Maybe I bought the place and came to kick everyone off it.¡±


    ¡°What¨C¡± Turning quickly to face me, the person Dani had been talking to came up short. ¡°Oh, uh, hey.¡±


    ¡°Hey yourself, I know you,¡± I put in, realizing belatedly where from. ¡°You¡¯re¨C¡±


    ¡°Ryder Towling,¡± Dani interrupted, gesturing back and forth between us. ¡°this is Cassidy Evans. Ryder¨Cwait, did you say you know him?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s tutoring¡­ uh, someone from school, Arleigh,¡± I replied. ¡°Right?¡±


    Ryder, for his part, squinted briefly before belatedly extending a hand. ¡°Oh, yeah. We met at her house the other day. She uhh, talks about you a lot. Are you guys¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re nothing,¡± I immediately cut in. ¡°Nothing at all.¡± With a gesture, I added, ¡°So, you skate?¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± The boy blanched. It was pretty cute, and I couldn¡¯t help the quick smile even as he continued. ¡°Nope, no sir. I¡¯m just here as emotional support. Dani¡¯s an¡­ old friend. I get to watch. Believe me, if I step on one of those things, I¡¯ll find a way to break my leg and at least three limbs from an assortment of other people.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not exaggerating much,¡± Dani remarked with a small smirk. ¡°You definitely don¡¯t want him on a board anywhere near you. But he¡¯s pretty good at watching. So, let¡¯s get to it. I wanna see what you can really do. Surprise me.¡±


    Yeah, I was pretty sure if I showed them what I could really do, she¡¯d be plenty surprised. It was a bad idea, of course. And one that I would never actually indulge.


    But boy, was it ever tempting.

 Non-Canon 14 - Joyride Versus Lightning Bug

    The sound of loud, twangy country music filled the warehouse as an assortment of workers steadily loaded several trucks with metal crates, under the watchful eye of armed guards, and a few men dressed in pristine suits that undoubtedly cost more than the workers made in an entire year. The armed guards were there to make sure none of the underpaid grunts got any ideas about making off with the valuable contents of the crates. Not that they would have been able to open them anyway, but still. The men in suits, the owners of said crates, were there to watch their possessions get loaded onto the trucks so they could assure themselves that their valuable property was on its way. And, of course, to make certain that none of their compatriots got any ideas of their own. Every rich man here had thought of ripping off one another and blaming it on some accident. None of the three trusted one another any further then they could have thrown one of those trucks. So, their safest recourse was to stand right there and watch their property get loaded. Then be at the other end of the trip to watch as it was taken off and opened. They would hardly leave one another¡¯s sight until that time. Not that they would drive with their property, of course. That would have been a thirty-six hour endeavor, and they were all far too important for that. Instead, they would take a private plane and relax at the resort hotel on the other end until their employees finished making the long drive.


    In most cases, there would be various Star-Touched and police escorts for transporting cargo that was this valuable. Not to mention it most likely would not be done in the middle of the night under the shroud of darkness. But then, that was for legal cargo, and laws, to these men, were barely more than polite suggestions. If their property was on the up-and-up, they would have shipped it via plane. Or even hired a Travel-Touched to get their property where it needed to be almost instantly. But none of them trusted any such person on the Fell side of the law not to make off with their expensive cargo. And given its¡­ illegalities, they couldn''t go to one that was above-board. The government very carefully watched such transactions and required verification of transported cargo before it could be teleported.


    On the other hand, they could have gone to the Ministry for help. But that would require paying an exorbitant amount of money in ¡®tax¡¯ for the privilege. These men had not made all their money by bowing to such pressures. Especially when they weren''t planning on spending much time here in Detroit anyway. This was simply where they had come to pick up their property.


    One of the men, a black guy with a perfectly-tailored blue suit and matching sunglasses, checked his watch. ¡°Exactly how much longer is this supposed to take? I thought we paid these guys extra to move their asses. They should have had this shit loaded five minutes ago.¡±


    The Caucasian man with dark blond hair and a white suit next to him frowned, looking not at his watch, but at the stereo sitting on a chair next to one of the trucks, still blasting that loud country music. ¡°Yeah, and haven¡¯t we been listening to this same shitty song for ten minutes now? I know it all sounds the same, but I swear it just keeps repeating.¡±


    The final man, another white guy (this one with a dark suit), took his own sunglasses off and cleared his throat while taking a few steps that way. ¡°Hey, if you guys think you''re getting paid more to slow-walk thi--¡± In mid-sentence, the man completely vanished from view, his words cut off entirely, as though he had fallen through a hole in the universe.


    Eyes widening as they saw that, the other two rich guys, accompanied by a few more bodyguards, went dashing that way. For the first couple of steps, everything remained the same. Then, at the third step, the view in front of them completely changed. The air seemed to shimmer a bit, before they saw the real view of the loading dock. Their companion in the dark suit was the only person still standing. All of their workers were sitting with their hands cuffed behind their backs and their mouths gagged. The armed guards that had been right next to the trucks were lying on their stomachs, hands and legs shackled, while their weapons were nowhere in sight. The radio had been turned off, and two of the trucks themselves were gone. Only one remained, its rear door open to show the assortment of metal crates carefully stacked within.


    As the men stopped short and stared at this baffling sight, a thick red smoke began to fill the air. It obscured their view of everything around them, making the men recoil while coughing. In the next moment, several loud fireworks exploded, along with a handful of strobe lights, shining out through the thick smoke. And on the heels of those fireworks, a very different sound filled the room. That of loud laughter, pumped through the warehouse speakers so that it seemed to be coming from every direction.


    Finally, the smoke cleared, leaving the reeling men facing a single figure who had appeared in that time, standing right at the open back door of the truck. The girl was small, clearly no more than nine or ten. The costume she wore, and it was clearly a costume, consisted of a red bodysuit with slightly darker red armor panels across her legs, chest, and arms. Black boots and gloves covered her feet and hands, and she also wore a long black cloak. A cloak which was steadily billowing out behind her in defiance of the utter lack of wind. The hood of the cloak was raised over the black helmet that covered her entire head. The only distinguishing feature of that helmet to break up its pitch-black smooth surface was a pair of glowing red lights to simulate eyes.


    ¡°Well jeez, guys!¡± the girl called out, voice projected loudly through both the helmet and the surrounding warehouse speakers. ¡°It''s about time. I thought I was gonna have to give you a nudge or something. I set up that whole fun holographic illusion thing and it was so good you didn¡¯t even notice for like¡­ ten minutes. Aren''t you supposed to be, like, super-duper perceptive and stuff to succeed at this whole amoral rich guy thing? I¡¯m starting to think movies lied to me.¡±


    ¡°Who th--¡± The black man was the first to recover from his surprise, jerking his hand up to point. ¡°Grab that fucking kid! I dunno who the fu--aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!¡± In mid-sentence, the man''s blurted demands turned to a scream as he was yanked off his feet, flipped upside down, and flew six feet higher in the air, his feet attached to a large, glowing silver orb that had flown down from the ceiling and hovered there. His wallet, phone, keys, and assorted other objects fell from his pockets to clatter across the floor while he struggled uselessly. But none of his efforts mattered. His feet appeared to be solidly stuck to the silver, beachball-sized orb as he hung there upside down. The air was filled with the sound of his violent cursing and threats.


    ¡°Come on guys, I know this is a really stressful time for you, but could you not swear so much?¡± the girl complained. ¡°I¡¯m not old enough to go to PG-13 movies yet, and you¡¯re making it really hard for me to tell my uncle I was a good girl tonight.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re literally fucking robbing us!¡± the white man in the white suit blurted. ¡°Does that sound good to you?¡±


    ¡°Dude, you¡¯re getting robbed by a kid,¡± Joyride pointed out. ¡°It sounds hilarious to me.¡±


    Growling angrily, the man jerked his own hand toward the armed guards standing around them. The ones who hadn''t already been disarmed and manacled, anyway. ¡°What¡¯re you cocksuckers waiting for, get the kid!¡±


    ¡°Pffft, screw that,¡± one of the guards snapped while dropping his gun. ¡°You know who that kid is? That¡¯s Joyride. You try to fight her and lose, you just got your shi--stuff wrecked by a ten-year-old girl. You try to fight her and win, you just beat up a ten-year-old girl. It¡¯s lose-lose and I, for one, do not feel like losing. See ya.¡± With that, he pivoted on his heel and began to walk straight out of the warehouse. ¡°Have a nice life!¡±


    Of the remaining few guards, two more joined him. Leaving one of either particular loyalty or a lack of care, who took a couple steps that way while raising his pistol. ¡°Okay, kid, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve had a lot of fun with your toys, but if you don¡¯t let my boss down right n--¡± Once more, an interruption came. This time, in the form of his gun being yanked from his hand to land at her feet. Accompanying it were the pistols each of the three rich guys carried for their own protection, and those that the departing guards had dropped.


    All of the weapons hit the floor in front of Joyride, who casually stepped over them and raised her hands. As she did so, a half-dozen more silver orbs, these ones the size of softballs with a blue lens on one side and a red one on the opposite, flew out of the truck to surround her. ¡°Quick question, do you guys know why I''m still here and didn''t run off with all your stuff already?¡± Her voice was cheerful, as she looked around excitedly, clearly hoping someone would actually answer.


    As the only bodyguard who had stayed with them gave a helpless look toward the guy in the black suit who employed him, the rich man himself snarled, ¡°Cuz those crates are locked. You can''t get in them without our fingerprints and retinal scans.¡±


    ¡°Yup!¡± Joyride chirped. ¡°And boy, I gotta tell you, I misheard retinal the first time. You guys should¡¯ve gone with that, cuz there''s no way I would have had anything to do with this if you did.¡± She made a disgusted noise and visibly shuddered before straightening. Her voice went back to being happy. ¡°But you didn¡¯t! And I have learned to be very careful about making sure people enunciate. So we¡¯re all good!¡±


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    ¡°No, we''re not good!¡± the man in the white suit blurted, ¡°you¡¯re trying to fucking rob u--aaaahh!¡± His scream was joined by his companion¡¯s as both men were yanked off their feet and hauled upside down in the air to be attached against a couple more of those beachball-sized metal orbs. The contents of their pockets joined that of the first man¡¯s in clattering loudly across the cement floor.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t I say something about watching your language?¡± Joyride complained with a sigh. ¡°I could¡¯ve sworn I did.¡± Shaking that off, she added, ¡°But yeah, you''re right. I need your fingerprints and your, uhh eye prints? Whatever, I need those to open the crates!¡±


    ¡°Guess that means you''re out of luck, kid,¡± one of the men snarled. ¡°Cuz we ain''t giving you anything.¡±


    With a voice that made it clear she was smiling broadly, Joyride replied, ¡°What makes you guys think I need your permission?¡± As she said that, several of the smaller orbs around her began to float that way. The men recoiled as much as they could in their upside down position, and their last remaining bodyguard tried to jump in the path of the orbs. He, however, was abruptly yanked to the floor by an unseen force, held flat there with a blurted curse.


    ¡°You guys can close your eyes if you want to,¡± Joyride advised. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter. My friends here can do a¡­ uhh, think of it as a holographic model of your whole bodies that are good enough to fool those crates. It¡¯ll just take a few minutes. Don¡¯t worry though, it won¡¯t hurt!¡±


    The men snarled, cursed, and threatened, but could do nothing to stop the orbs from projecting their bright scanning lights over them from the blue lenses. As promised, the scan didn¡¯t hurt. Well, aside from their pride, as the rich and powerful men were left to hang helplessly upside down while this child had her machines scan their bodies in order to successfully steal what they firmly believed belonged to them.


    In the midst of all that, however, a very different sound abruptly filled the air. It was a loud kathunk as something heavy landed on the roof of the remaining truck.


    ¡°Kathunk?¡± Joyride echoed, turning that way. ¡°I don¡¯t remember planning for a kathunk.¡±


    Her musings were interrupted as a new figure leapt down from the roof of the truck, landing between Joyride and the open back. The sudden arrival, along with the figure¡¯s¡­ unique appearance, was enough to make the girl yelp and stumble slightly in surprise.


    It was a giant praying mantis, standing a good five-and-a-half feet tall. Its forward ¡®arm-like¡¯ legs clacked warningly through the air as though telling the girl to stay back.


    ¡°Hey, wait a minute,¡± Joyride exclaimed abruptly after recovering from her surprise. The orbs floated up around her once more. ¡°I know you, you¡¯re--¡±


    But then it was her turn to be interrupted. In this case, by a loud squeal coming from above, just before the glass of the skylight was shattered by a form crashing through it. A reddish-blue moth, body as large as a motorcycle and with a wingspan to match, slammed into the glass, broke through, and then came into land on the cement. A tiny figure, even smaller than Joyride herself, was perched there. She was the source of the loud squeal, which turned out to be one of delight.


    ¡°Lightning Bug!¡± Joyride blurted out loud. She took a second, staring at the very obvious Touched child. The five-year-old had dark red skin that almost matched the armor panels of Joyride¡¯s suit, along with bright white hair and her own set of insect-like wings.


    ¡°Whee!¡± Bug herself was still blurting, hugging the moth around the neck. ¡°Oh my gosh, that was fun! We gotta do that again, Fuzzbutt! And maybe we could do a loopty-loop and--¡± She blinked up toward the other girl before seeming to remember what was going on. ¡°Oh!¡± Hurriedly, the girl scrambled off her moth friend, using her own wings to hover briefly before landing. Striking a dramatic pose, or her best approximation of it with a fist on one hip, the tiny child pointed that way. ¡°Halt right there, supervillain! You have terrorized this city long enough! Your reign of¡­ uhhh¡­ umm, terror stops right now! Wait, no, your reign of villainy! Your reign of villainy ends right now! Wait, nuh uh, dastardly deeds! Your reign of dastardly deeds ends right now!¡± Seeming to silently consider her own words briefly, she finally gave a firm nod, apparently satisfied.


    ¡°Okay, seriously?¡± One of the upside down men muttered in complaint while they all stared incredulously, ¡°we have got to get a more secret place to do this shit at next time.¡±


    Joyride, meanwhile, had recovered by that point. She looked back and forth between the two giant bugs and their diminutive owner a few times before slowly straightening. ¡°Oh¡­ oh.¡± Clearing her throat, the girl retorted, ¡°And what makes you think you can stop me, Lightning Bug? I am Joyride, the Passage Princess! The Tycoon of Transit! The--hang on.¡± Tilting her head, she made a couple quick gestures in the air that looked as though she was turning invisible pages while staring at empty air, the view obviously different within her helmet. ¡°Wandering¡­ motility¡­ loco¡­ that¡¯s it, the Leader of Locomotion!¡±


    Even as she said that, the sound of a new crash came, as a slightly smaller (yet still relatively enormous) bug zipped through the nearby window and came flying up on her left side. It was a bright metallic purple Orchid bee, about the size of a cat. Completing the image, he even wore what looked like an old-fashioned World War One pilot¡¯s cap and goggles, wings steadily buzzing as he hovered there on the far side of Joyride as though covering her from that angle.


    And a moment later, the main door of the room opposite the loading dock was knocked down, as a three-foot-tall, six-foot-long beetle with a neon green shell slammed into it before crawling inside.


    ¡°Good job, Kenobee, Snugglebug!¡± Clearly delighted by her friends¡¯ arrivals, Lightning Bug straightened to her full (quite tiny) height once more. ¡°I¡¯m only gonna tell you one more time, villain! Surrender, or face the full might of¡­ of¡­ umm¡­ Lightning Bug and her Insect Armada!¡±


    ¡°Oh, you might have me surrounded, goodie two-bug!¡± came the quick retort, ¡°but I¡¯m not captured yet! Get ¡®em!¡±


    With that, the orbs split off from her, flying out to, in at least some sense of the word, ¡®attack¡¯ the bugs. Small stinging-like beams shot from the orbs. A few hit here or there, while others missed as the giant bee, praying mantis, beetle, and moth dodged and weaved around them. One of the orbs was smacked to the ground by a quick strike from Cinnamon the mantis, even as another one was taken down when Kenobee expertly barrel-rolled around its shots and crashed into it from the side. Three of the orbs flew straight up, chasing after Fuzzbutt as the moth went soaring back through the hole in the skylight before performing a daring aerial battle with one another. A battle that was soon joined by Kenobee, as he abandoned his own target to lend aid to his wingman. Or rather, wingmoth.


    Meanwhile, the two girls themselves lunged at one another. What followed wasn''t exactly an epic duel to the death. Not that one would know that going by the sounds the pair were making. The rich men, helplessly hung upside down, were forced to listen as the two young girls hummed their own combat music and sound effects while exchanging ¡®blows¡¯ that barely connected. They fought like children on the playground engaged in a game, albeit with more fairness than many of those tended to display. When one of them ¡®hit¡¯ the other with a punch, the struck person staggered backward in exaggerated reaction, flailing and making loud pained noises before retaliating in kind. The two of them dodged, punched, and kicked as though acting out an incredibly well-choreographed battle from a movie, all while making their own sound effects for the blows and humming musical accompaniment.


    Finally, after a particularly epic two-fisted punch from her five-year-old enemy, Joyride threw herself a good seven or eight feet (assisted by a bit of a boost from her boots) to land on the floor, sprawling out in exaggerated fashion. ¡°Oooof! Noooo.¡± Rolling over, she whistled, summoning what remained of her orbs (all of them technically remained, though the ones that had been ¡®defeated¡¯ simply vanished from where they fell and returned to their home base) to hover over her.


    With her own enlarged companions gathered on all sides of her, Lightning Bug stood proud and tall. ¡°Like I said, your evil is over!¡±


    Making a show of panting heavily, Joyride shook her head. ¡°Not this time, Lightning Bug! You might have stopped me from taking the last truck, but I still have the other two, and my little friends managed to finish their holographic models of these jerks!¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Bug blinked. ¡°Other t--¡± In mid-sentence, a bright flash of light filled the room, forcing the girl and everyone else to recoil and shield their eyes. When the flare died down, Joyride and her orbs had all vanished. Including the larger balls that had been holding the three men, leaving them to fall unceremoniously back to the floor. All that was left, where the other girl had been, was a large manilla envelope.


    Recovering quickly, the man in the blue suit showed himself to his feet while blurting, ¡°What¡¯re you idiots waiting for? Get our guys out of those cuffs, get the crates off the truck, get--¡±


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s this?¡± Stepping over, Lightning Bug reached down to grab the envelope before picking it up. She read the message scrawled across it. ¡°T-tuh¡­ to¡­ to¡­ who¡­ it¡­ may¡­ what¡¯s this word?¡± She asked, holding the envelope up.


    ¡°Concern,¡± the remaining bodyguard distractedly replied while trying to pick the lock of the cuffs keeping one of his companions trapped.


    ¡°To who it may concern,¡± Lightning Bug read, before smiling proudly. ¡°I read it, yay! Huh. I¡¯m concerned.¡± Curious, she opened the envelope, before taking out several pictures and papers. ¡°Hey¡­ this looks like you guys.¡± She compared the pictures to the three rich men who were still collecting themselves. ¡°And that looks like¡­ uh oh.¡± Jerking backward, she blurted, ¡°You did bad things!¡±


    ¡°What--¡± The man in the white suit tore his attention away from frantically demanding that the truck with the last of their belongings be hastily unloaded, not trusting that Joyride hadn¡¯t trapped the vehicle. ¡°What¡¯re you--¡± He saw the papers and photos, eyes widening. ¡°Hey, gimme those, you--¡± But before he could do or say anything else, the man was abruptly knocked forward by Kenobee slamming into him from behind.


    ¡°Bad guys!¡± Lightning Bug blurted. Her hands rose, and blueish-white lightning-like blasts shot from her outstretched fingers. The man, as well as his two partners and their remaining guard, all collapsed on the ground with a collection of yelps as the same power the girl used to empower insects or heal people she liked, was used to hurt those she deemed ¡®bad.¡¯ Taken completely by surprise, all four men were on the ground before they knew what was happening.


    ¡°Hold it!¡± The new voice interrupted, as a woman in a costume of dark gold pants with black lines, black boots, a dark purple scale mail shirt, gold leather coat, and black helmet with purple lenses strode into the room. ¡°Okay, someone needs to explain what¡¯s going on, because I was just getting in my car and all of a sudden I¡¯m standing in front of this--Bug?!¡±


    ¡°Hiya, Mama!¡± Stopping her electrical blasts, the girl proudly declared, ¡°I beat a supervillain! She ran away. Oh, and I found these bad guys too. They didn¡¯t get to run away. But I have a nemy--a nemuh, a namysus!


    ¡°Can we have ice cream now?¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-03

    So, I skated for a while, both blades and board. A lot of people liked to stick with one or the other, and saw switching back and forth as not being loyal or whatever. They got really into that sort of thing, with huge arguments about which was better. But I tended to go with whatever I was in the mood for at the time. If that actually made me worse at both than I would have been if I focused on one, the way some people thought, so be it. I didn¡¯t feel worse than I could have been, plus I had fun. And wasn¡¯t having fun kind of the point of the entire thing?


    Anyway, once I¡¯d had enough of that fun for a while, I found myself grabbing a couple bottles of water from the cooler and standing in front of that guy from before, Ryder. As promised, he hadn¡¯t set foot on anything with wheels. He was just sitting off to the side, watching everyone else. He didn¡¯t seem to know anybody except Dani, and something made me want to make sure that he wasn¡¯t lonely or whatever. I couldn¡¯t explain it, I just didn¡¯t want to let him feel ignored.


    Twisting the caps off the water bottles, I extended one to him before speaking up. ¡°So, you¡¯re absolutely sure there¡¯s no way we could talk you onto one of those boards? It¡¯s seriously not as scary as it looks from the outside. Just takes some practice.¡±


    After a moment of hesitation, he took the bottle while shaking his head. ¡°Sorry, I like having all my bones intact. I have enough trouble walking around without killing myself. Adding wheels into the mix just seems like a bad idea altogether.¡± Belatedly, he added, ¡°But, you know, you seem pretty good on them. You sure you weren¡¯t born with wheels?¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I plopped down next to him and took a long gulp from my own bottle. ¡°I¡¯ve seen baby pictures, no wheels attached. Though maybe they had them surgically removed first?¡± Pretending to consider that, I finally shook it off. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m pretty sure my family would have told me. They lie about plenty of stuff, but that seems like it would¡¯ve come up.¡±


    Looking away from me, Ryder murmured, ¡°I guess all families lie, even the super-rich ones.¡±


    ¡°Maybe especially the super-rich ones,¡± I found myself replying before grimacing. Why would I even say that? Or any of this? I didn¡¯t know anything about this guy. Like, absolutely nothing aside from the fact that he was tutoring Arleigh and was friends with Dani, whom I also didn¡¯t know very well. I had to be careful not to open up too much. Saying the wrong thing, even to a completely random person who didn¡¯t know me at all, could seriously backfire.


    Ryder, meanwhile, had looked over to me. ¡°I guess money doesn¡¯t solve everything. Just makes it easier to deal with a lot of things.¡± He hesitated briefly, seeming to consider something before speaking again. ¡°Though in a way, you¡¯re really lucky as far as the rich and powerful parents thing goes. Err, I mean obviously you¡¯re lucky. But for a different reason. I just¨C¡± Shaking his head as though clearing it, he pushed on. ¡°What I mean is, people don¡¯t know you. They don¡¯t recognize you. Do you have any idea how strange that is, for the daughter of people as big as your family to be completely invisible on the street? You can walk into any store and nobody will recognize you. Most girls in your position would be going around getting constantly mobbed. You know, by paparazzi and people like that.¡±


    Flushing a little, I folded my arms across my stomach. ¡°Trust me,¡± I murmured, ¡°they¡¯ve got much better things to photograph than me. I don¡¯t exactly take after my mother. If I did, maybe more people would want pictures.¡±


    ¡°And if more people wanted pictures, you wouldn¡¯t be able to sit out here doing the things you like,¡± Ryder pointed out with a shrug. ¡°I mean, do you want to be a model?¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± I answered honestly. ¡°I mean no, not like that. I don¡¯t want to be chased around and like, yeah. I still want to do my own thing most of the time. You¡¯re right about that, having anonymity is really good. It means I can do stuff like this.¡± Biting my lip, I slumped back a bit and sighed. ¡°But sometimes I do like to feel pretty. I like to dress up. I like feeling¡­ I dunno, feminine? Sometimes I feel like this stuff suits me better, the skating, running around, screwing off with the guys, that sort of thing. And other times¡­ other times I really wish I could fill out a dress better than I do. It¡¯s like I can¡¯t make up my mind if I¡¯d rather be more of a girl or more of a guy.¡± Grimacing, I gave a quick shake of my head while trying to make it sound like this stuff didn¡¯t really matter. ¡°Forget it. Believe me, I know it¡¯s stupid.¡±


    Before I could tell myself to shut the fuck up and stop talking about this with someone I barely knew, Ryder¡¯s hand touched my shoulder. His voice was quiet. ¡°It¡¯s not stupid, Cassidy. I know a lot of stupid things, and that? That¡¯s definitely not one of them. What you¡¯re talking about, it¨C¡± He stopped, seeming to consider his words for a moment. ¡°It just sounds like you¡¯re your own person. And that¡¯s a good thing. Don¡¯t let anyone try to force you into a box. Sometimes you feel more like this.¡± He gestured over to where the others were shouting at one another while skating through the various concrete ramps. ¡°And other times you feel more like¡­ you know, a traditional sort of girl. There¡¯s nothing wrong with either of those, and there¡¯s nothing wrong with wanting to be both. Whatever you are, just make sure it¡¯s what you chose to be. Not what someone said you should be just because it fits their own personal understanding of the world.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t¨CI had no idea what to say to that. Or how to deal with the feelings that kept twisting their way up through me. My stomach felt weird. I wasn¡¯t sure why this whole thing had come up, or why I felt like talking about it with him of all people made sense. Again, I didn¡¯t know anything about Ryder Towling. There was absolutely no reason at all for me to feel comfortable talking about this sort of sensitive, personal thing with him. Part of me wondered if he was a Touched, like that Tell guy. But no, that didn¡¯t seem right either. I just¡­ felt comfortable with him.


    Yeah, it didn¡¯t make any sense. And it sort of scared me a little bit. But not as much as it probably should have. The thought that I could say the wrong thing to a guy I barely knew should have terrified me into immediately excusing myself and walking away. Instead, I sat there and considered his words for a long, silent moment before replying, ¡°Probably a good thing that people don¡¯t depend on me to be a certain type of person. I¡¯d end up disappointing them.¡±


    Ryder gave a soft snort at that. ¡°Now that I really doubt,¡± he informed me before taking a long pull from his bottle. His voice turned quieter. ¡°You are an awful lot of things, Cassidy Evans. But I¡¯m pretty sure one thing you could never be is disappointing.¡±


    A deep blush rose within me, and I turned slightly that way, trying to find the right words to ask what would make him say that just because I did a little skating around him. But before any words could come out, we were rejoined by Dani once more. She had a couple others with her, including Amber, whom I had not seen arrive.


    ¡°Not having any luck getting this guy on wheels, huh?¡± Dani teased lightly while gesturing. ¡°Well come on, maybe we can interest you in a different sort. You know, the kind attached to a car.¡±


    One of the boys, a tall red-head named Clyve, spoke up. ¡°We¡¯re gonna go get ice cream from that new place. Some of us keep hearing people babble on and on about how good it is and haven¡¯t had a chance to go yet.¡±


    New ice cream place. Maki¡¯s place. The thought of going to see my ex-boyfriend¡¯s new love interest immediately made me want to give excuses and leave. But there was that voice in the back of my head reminding me that I really did need to find out more about¡­ them if I was going to figure out what that whole deal was. And to be quite honest, going in a big group like this was undoubtedly the very best cover I would get. Even if it made me uncomfortable, going was the best choice. Which, of course, was a realization that made my stomach twist.


    I found myself looking over toward Amber, who met my gaze with an understanding expression. She raised both eyebrows before clearing her throat to casually ask. ¡°Oh uhh, didn¡¯t you say something about having a thing with your parents this weekend? Is that today?¡±


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    I knew what Amber was doing. She was giving me a way out of this. She knew how uncomfortable it would be, and was letting me know that she would be there to find out more about Maki herself. She was telling me that I didn¡¯t have to be there if I didn¡¯t want to be.


    Except I still felt like I needed to. Sure, she could find out stuff on her own, and could almost certainly do as much if not more than I could. Okay, definitely more than I could in some ways. But if I let my discomfort with the situation keep me away from it, even with this excuse, it would open the door to allowing such feelings to keep me away from other uncomfortable situations. Which, given that the whole thing with my family, felt like a very bad precedence to set. Yes, I didn¡¯t really want to be there, but I wasn¡¯t going to let my personal feelings get in the way. Finding out what was going on with the sex-shifter person who had some connection to the Ministry was more important, and if having one of us there was good, having two had to be better, right?


    Forcing back a sigh at my own annoying logic, I gave her a thankful look before shaking my head. ¡°Nah, not today. I¡¯m up for some ice cream. And believe me,¡± I added in Clyve¡¯s direction, ¡°they haven¡¯t been overselling it. This stuff is just as good as everyone keeps saying. Better, even.¡± With a wink, I added, ¡°But uhh, I don¡¯t think all of us can fit in one car.¡± Saying that, I glanced around at the roughly fifteen or so people who were still hanging around.


    ¡°Well, I brought Ryder here for a reason beyond coaxing him out of his comfort zone,¡± Dani noted. ¡°Namely, he has a car. So ahh, come on.¡± Pivoting, she waved both hands around her head. ¡°Everyone heading for ice cream, load up and move out!¡± To Amber and me, she added, ¡°Come on, it may not be the limousine the princess there is used to, but I¡¯ll see if I can scrounge out a chauffeur¡¯s hat to make you feel more at home.¡±


    Her words very easily could have been taken as rude or¡­ taunting coming in the wrong tone. Yeah, they could have come off poorly from someone else. But somehow, I wasn¡¯t offended. I knew she was teasing, it was just her way of doing that. I wasn¡¯t sure how I knew that, but maybe she was just good at expressing herself. Or¡­ or something.


    Shaking that off, I started to move after her and Ryder. But Amber gently caught my arm, her voice low. ¡°How¡­ how was the funeral?¡±


    Of course she knew I had gone. Biting my lip, I looked back to her before glancing around quickly to make sure no one was in earshot. Then I whispered, ¡°Simon was there.¡± As her eyes widened, I gave a quick two sentence summary for her about what I had seen. Through it, Amber seemed to reel a bit. Yeah, it was a lot to take in. Her mouth opened and shut a couple times as she tried to find the right words to respond to the news, before finally settling on a simple yet effective, ¡°Motherfucker.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, pretty much,¡± I murmured, frowning at the uncomfortable, confusing thoughts in my head. I still had no idea why he had been there, or what his whole deal was. It just raised a bunch of questions that I had no way to answer right then. So, I shoved them down and gestured. ¡°We better get over there before everyone starts yelling at us for holding up ice cream.¡±


    The other girl looked like she was going to say something else for a moment, but in the end she just gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah,¡± she murmured, ¡°don¡¯t wanna keep everyone waiting.¡±


    So, we started off that way, after I gave a quick glance back to the spot where Ryder and I had been talking. That weird feeling rose up in me once more before I made myself quash it for the moment.


    Today was just¡­ really weird all around.


    ******


    ¡°So uhh, I owe you an apology.¡±


    The words came as I was stepping away from the toppings station at the ice cream parlor with my cup of the frozen treat heavily laden with caramel syrup and sprinkles. Turning, I found myself looking at none other than Maki himself. Themself. Damn it, I still didn¡¯t know what the right term was. I was going to mentally stick with them for the moment.


    ¡°Uhh,¡± I managed uncertainly, ¡°an apology?¡±


    They nodded, meeting my gaze a bit sheepishly. ¡°I probably should have said that I knew who you were before. And then I went and talked to Tom about you visiting. It¡¯s ahh¡­¡± Raising a hand to rub the back of their neck with obvious discomfort, they glanced away while murmuring, ¡°It was kind of rude. So yeah, I¡¯m sorry about that. It wasn¡¯t fair. Not with the whole¡­ ex thing going on.¡± With a grimace, they added, ¡°I think I¡¯m probably making the whole thing worse.¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I mean, it was already pretty awkward before you said anything. But I swear I didn¡¯t know who you were before we came. My dad just mentioned ice cream and I didn¡¯t put it together with what Tomas said about how¨Cyeah.¡± Shaking myself slightly, I focused on adding, ¡°Let¡¯s just say there¡¯s been plenty of awkwardness to go around. But hey, it¡¯s still really good ice cream. And trust me, I¡¯ve tasted a lot in my time. This stuff is basically perfect.¡±


    To my confusion, Maki glanced away with a muttered, ¡°Yeah, well, it would be.¡± As I blinked uncertainly, they seemed to realize what they had said and visibly blanched. ¡°I mean, sorry. It¡¯s just been a long few days. Long couple weeks, really. My family just moved here and all.¡±


    Well that was as good of an opening as I was going to get. Bracing myself inwardly, I tried to sound as casual as possible while asking, ¡°So uhh, how¡¯d you and Tomas meet, anyway? I mean, if it¡¯s not too personal or whatever. And even as I say that, I realize I sound like a crazy ex. Don¡¯t worry about it. I mean, I may be crazy in a lot of ways, but I¡¯m not that sort of crazy. And I¨CI¡¯m making it worse again. So you know what, I¡¯m just gonna shut up.¡±


    With a tiny smirk, Maki replied, ¡°Believe me, I¡¯ve been on your side of the whole thing before. With a lot more confusion and weirdness than you could possibly imagine. So yeah, I get it. But the truth is there¡¯s not really much of a story to tell. We met because our fathers introduced us. His dad had some history with mine, and when we were going to move over here to the States to start up our business, Mr. Jackson suggested we come to Detroit. So, we did, and I met Tom. I dunno how that¡¯s going to go, but uhh, he¡¯s¡­ nice. I mean, more than nice, I just¨C¡± They made a face. ¡°It was my turn to make it awkward.¡±


    ¡°Well, I appreciate you giving me a break from the job,¡± I found myself casually replying. The two of us met each other¡¯s gazes and both snickered a bit. Okay, yeah, putting aside the mystery around their whole¡­ thing, I could see why Tomas would like them.


    Still, I did have questions that I needed to get answers to if I was ever going to figure out what was going on. So, trying to sound as casual as possible, I asked, ¡°Ahh, where did you move over here from? I mean, you said your family came to the States and all. Are you uhh, I¡¯m not sure how to¡­ your English is really good. I mean, you don¡¯t really have much of an accent at all.¡±


    Offering me a faint smile and a lifeline, Maki replied, ¡°We¡¯re originally from Hamamatsu, in Japan. It¡¯s a couple hundred kilometers south of Tokyo. Ahh, sorry, about a hundred and fifty miles for Americans. But I only spent the first seven or eight years of my life there. My family moves around a lot. It¡¯s¨C¡± Clearly stopping themself from whatever they had been about to say, Maki instead finished with, ¡°I¡¯ve spent most of the past eight years or so bouncing through Western Europe. I guess that¡¯s how my dad met Tom¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Is your dad a diplomat too?¡± I asked, before amending, ¡°I mean, was he, before you guys did the whole ice cream shop thing? Which seems sort of like a weird career move, but hey.¡±


    Maki chuckled slightly, offering me a perfect smile that made me see even more why Tomas would be interested in them. ¡°He just likes to start up businesses, run them for awhile, then hand them off to other people so he can do something new. I guess he gets bored easily or something. He¨C¡± Stopping, they clearly mentally corrected something they were about to say. ¡°He¡¯s got a lot of irons in the fire. And now we¡¯re here doing this. He promised we could visit America the next time he made a big change, and that I could pick the business. So, ice cream.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I replied while gesturing with my full spoon, ¡°judging from the taste of this, it was the right move. Whoever your supplier is, they¡¯re a genius.¡±


    With a mysterious smile, they replied, ¡°It has a lot to do with the storage and preparation too. But thanks, my parents will be glad to hear you enjoyed it so much. I umm, I¡¯m glad I could meet you. You know, officially. If it wouldn¡¯t be too awkward or bad for you, maybe we could all go hang out sometime. I wouldn¡¯t mind hearing some stories about Tom. And it¡¯s even more fun if we¡¯re talking while he¡¯s right there.¡± They added that last bit with a wink.


    Well, as far as getting opportunities to snoop on their life and find out what was going on went, this was going incredibly well. Better than I really could have hoped. I pushed aside my personal feelings and nodded. ¡°Sure, ahh, that sounds good. Here, why don¡¯t I give you my number. Then we can keep talking about him and set up a time to do it in person.¡±


    In the end, we both exchanged numbers and texted one another to make sure we had them right. Then I went back to join the others, who were just about done anyway. I was teased a little bit about ¡®stalking¡¯ Tomas¡¯s new boyfriend by a few people, but they moved on pretty quick. And soon, everyone decided to disperse and head out to do their own thing. Which was just as well, considering I really needed to go home and put in an appearance before escaping to go to that party. And boy did that sound like completely ordinary teenager things when I thought about it like that. Funny how that worked.


    As I was heading out, Ryder caught my attention at the door and raised an eyebrow. ¡°That guy over there is your ex-boyfriend¡¯s new boyfriend?¡±


    Flushing a little, I replied, ¡°Yeah well, what can I say? I live an exciting and interesting life.¡±


    Ryder chuckled softly, holding the door for me. ¡°You know what, Cassidy Evans? That I can definitely believe.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you live a more interesting life than anyone could guess.¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-04

    Putting in an appearance at home for a while, I found myself being invited to the dinner party that evening. Invited as myself, that was. For just a moment, the possibility of needing to play a sitcom-style game of going as both Cassidy and Paintball while rapidly switching back and forth between them in closets jumped into my head. Which, of course, would have ended with me sitting down in my dress at the table with my parents while still wearing the helmet on my head, no matter how little sense that made. Wacky, murderous hijinks would certainly have ensued.


    But no, I simply told my parents that I wasn¡¯t really feeling it that night and felt like going to bed pretty soon. They, in turn, let it go pretty easily. I had the feeling they weren¡¯t very surprised about me not wanting to attend some party, even if it was hosted and attended by a bunch of Star-Touched. Maybe they were just happy to think that I wouldn¡¯t be around just in case something went wrong and Dad had to jump into Silversmith duty. Which was a thought that in and of itself gave me pause. Would they give the green light for any Fell-Touched gang shenanigans at an event they themselves were attending? It made sense that they would, given how easy it would be for someone to notice if nothing ever happened at places they went. They were probably even making sure that their own businesses and other assets were hit repeatedly during this whole war, just to avoid any suspicion at all.


    Yeah, I really needed to look that up. Maybe even get an actual list of everything my family had any ownership in and compare it to crimes over the past twenty years to see just how that lined up. I was sure they were careful, especially with my mother making plenty of the decisions. But if I looked closely enough, knowing what sort of things to search through all twenty years, maybe I could actually find some evidence for my family overall profiting from all those crimes in the long run. Say, if they lost a token amount because one business they owned was hit, but had purchased stock in their competitor shortly beforehand. Or something. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how well that would work, or if it would pan out at all. But it was something to think about.


    In any case, I didn¡¯t need to go to the party tonight. At least, not as myself. But I wasn¡¯t going to completely rule out the possibility of any other sitcom-adjacent antics showing up while I was secretly attending the same party as my parents. I just hoped it stayed firmly in the cheap comedy realm and didn¡¯t mosey its way into the epic drama or tragedy genres.


    Also, it was slightly possible that I was overthinking this whole thing and applying far too many tropes to it. The point was, my parents thought I was staying home. Izzy, on the other hand¡­ well, she was supposedly going over for some tutoring or extra homework or something. That¡¯s the story I was told, in my role as a clueless, obedient daughter who didn¡¯t know anything. In reality, she would be appearing as Raindrop alongside the rest of the Minority.


    Come to think of it, that was probably another reason my parents were fine with me deciding not to go. They might have thought that I would somehow recognize Izzy if we spent time together. Which made me wonder when they planned on telling me about her true identity. If they ever did. Hell, maybe they wanted me to be clueless forever and would send me off to college without opening up about any of it.


    Bitter, me?


    ¡°You¡¯re brooding, aren¡¯t you?¡± The words came from next to my window, where Izzy had been standing and looking out at the grounds for the past few minutes. She was ready to head out for her ¡®tutoring¡¯ session as soon as my parents were ¡®ready to drop her off.¡¯ Yes, the truth was that she would be going with them the whole way. But again, I wasn¡¯t supposed to know any of this yet, so they carried on with the charade.


    Sitting up on my bed, I focused on her and offered a faint smile. ¡°Maybe a little bit, but they say a little brooding now and then is pretty healthy.¡±


    Izzy raised an eyebrow while moving to sit on one of my nearby heavily-padded footstools. ¡°Who says that?¡±


    My hand waved dismissively. ¡°Oh, you know. They would¡¯ve introduced themselves, but they were too busy brooding.¡± With a wink, I pushed myself up. ¡°I¡¯m okay. Sorry, I was just thinking about how long they¡¯re going to keep me in the dark. Or, uhh, think they¡¯re keeping me in the dark. About you, I mean. Have they said anything to you about talking to me?¡±


    After a brief hesitation, Izzy offered, ¡°Yeah, they did. I mean, they said we should tell you what¨Cum, about my extracurriculars when the time is right. They just, you know, haven¡¯t exactly said when that time is. But your mom brought it up this afternoon. She asked how I would feel if you knew the truth and if I would be comfortable with it. I told her I was okay with telling you and she said to wait a little bit longer. But I think they plan to bring it up pretty soon. Um, do you think they¡¯ll tell you anything¡­ else?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°If they tell me about you, it¡¯ll be with you right there too. And it¡¯ll probably be a test run. Think about it, they can see exactly how I¡¯ll react to just the short time of being lied to and having Touched-related secrets kept instead of my whole life. It¡¯s like getting to watch me dip my toes in the water, or just splash around in the shallows before they pull me to the deep end to see if I can swim.¡±


    Taking that in, Izzy blanched. ¡°You¡¯re right, telling you the truth about me is gonna be their test for telling you the truth about themselves. It makes sense.¡± With a visible grimace, she focused on me. ¡°So, how are you going to react when they tell you? About me, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh, really convincing surprise?¡± I offered, before pantomiming slapping my hands against my face like the kid from Home Alone.


    Snickering, Izzy leaned out to kick my shin. ¡°Maybe you should practice. Or, umm, maybe not?¡± She frowned, clearly trying to decide which way would be better. But before she could, and before I could say anything else, the intercom chimed and announced that my mother was requesting our presence downstairs so Izzy could head out and I could say goodnight.


    Wow, here went nothing, again. The two of us exchanged looks before getting up. We went down, as soon as I made sure I looked sufficiently ready for bed. I had changed into sweatpants and a tee-shirt that hopefully sold the idea that I would be falling asleep shortly after they left. The very last thing I wanted my parents to be doing that night was wondering what I was up to. Which, of course, made me feel like a little kid who was pretending to be sick or something. Only with much higher stakes than being forced to take a math test or something, in this case.


    My parents, of course, looked amazing. They were all dressed up to attend the event, my father in a dashing suit and my mother wearing an elegant gown. Standing in front of them in my bed clothes made the difference between us even more apparent. I would clearly never look the way my mother did in a dress. She was all¡­ perfect, filling the gown out in all the right places, with long dark hair that curled slightly in a way that I could never have gotten mine to do. She was just¡­ she was Elena Evans, a beautiful woman who had appeared on many magazine covers.


    Me? I was Cassidy. No one would ever look at me the way they looked at my mother. Not even if I dressed up the way she was, let alone while I was wearing sweats and a tee-shirt. I almost felt as though my parents should be offended that I was in the same room as them. I certainly didn¡¯t belong there.


    Mom, however, opened her arms and pulled me into a full embrace. I felt her squeeze tight, her voice a tender murmur, ¡°I love you, my principessa. You are everything you need to be.¡±


    Dad took his turn then, embracing me even more tightly before lifting me off the floor. ¡°We probably won¡¯t be back until after midnight, so don¡¯t wait up. Maybe we¡¯ll go do something fun tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t wait,¡± I made myself say as he set me down. Stepping back, I waved. ¡°Have a good time.¡± To Izzy, I added, ¡°While you¡¯re at the library, if you see this old lady with white hair that¡¯s pulled back in a bun, and these big glasses with gold rims, don¡¯t tell her you know me. I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s still holding a grudge from that whole sledding incident. Which is totally unfair, because that was like five years ago. Ancient history.¡±


    ¡°Sledding?¡± Izzy blinked at me. ¡°How do you annoy a librarian by sledding?¡±


    ¡°When you do it inside the library,¡± Dad put in. Despite his put-upon sigh, he failed to hide all of his amusement.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I offered a shrug. ¡°Hey, those stairs were perfect for it. Four stories of steps? Come on. Besides, Noel double-dog dared me. What was I supposed to do, say no?¡±


    From the look my mother was giving me, saying no was exactly what I was supposed to do. But she didn¡¯t say anything, instead settling on reaching out to gently squeeze my shoulder. ¡°We will be home later tonight. You look very tired. Get some sleep, my beautiful girl.¡±


    With that, she released me and they all turned to head out. I waved once more, then pivoted and headed back upstairs, moving casually past a couple maids on their way down. As they passed, I smiled and nodded, acting as though I had nothing more interesting to do with my night.


    The facade dropped as soon as I was back in my room with the door shut behind me. Immediately, the mask of casual, bored innocence vanished from my face as I ran to the nearby sliding door and opened it to carefully peek outside. In the distance, I could hear the car engine start up, before a dark SUV with heavily tinted windows pulled into view on its way down the long driveway. There they went. Even now, Izzy was probably in the rear-most row of seats with the divider up so she could change into the costume that had been sitting there waiting for her. Meanwhile, my parents would be sitting in the middle, having a glass of wine while chatting to each other. Would they talk about Ministry business? With the divider up, Izzy wouldn¡¯t be able to hear them, so it was possible. At the very least, I was sure the gang war was giving them plenty to talk about. And plenty of fires for the Ministry to deal with. They had to be allowing the conflict to continue and even escalate the way it was, but I had no idea how far they were willing to let it go. Or how bad it would get before they shut it down.


    Shaking those thoughts off, I moved to lock my bedroom door. Setting the computer to let people know I was asleep, I used purple paint to move the mirror out of the way in my closet, pulled the bag with my costume out, and went back to the balcony. There, I slung the bag over my shoulder, made sure the coast was clear and the cameras weren¡¯t watching, then used red paint to zip my way to the wall. After one more quick glance around, I dropped to the other side and began to sprint through the wilderness at a diagonal toward the road. Once I was clear, I would call for a ride and head over to meet up with Alloy. And then? Well, then we would head for the same party that my parents were going to.


    Suddenly, this was seeming more and more like a bad idea. But what was I supposed to do, tell Peyton we couldn¡¯t go because I was afraid my parents would recognize me? Besides, I¡¯d gotten through a much closer dinner back at Caishen¡¯s place when the Chambers and my parents had been there, without giving anything away. I could totally get through a much larger gathering. With all the other Touched there, I doubted anyone would even pay attention to me.


    Right, good thing I had some time before meeting up with Peyton. Because I was going to need every second to convince myself I wasn¡¯t full of shit.


    *******


    Showing up just outside Wren¡¯s, I found Murphy, Roald, and Peyton out in the alley behind the shop. The other two hadn¡¯t bothered to change out of their funeral clothes, though they were pretty dirty by that point. It looked like Murphy in particular had gone mud-sliding in hers or something. She was standing with her back to the nearby dumpster, bouncing a ball off the ground, then the wall, then back into her hand. When I dropped into view, she looked up, her eyes a bit bloodshot, voice audibly strained. ¡°How¡¯s it going, Boss? Heard you dropped by.¡±


    ¡°I¨C¡± My voice caught a bit, before I managed a weak, ¡°Yeah, I wanted to¨CI mean I thought I should¨Cfuck. I¡¯m sorry. I wanted to watch and be there, even if it didn¡¯t really matter.¡±


    ¡°It mattered,¡± Murphy informed me, her own voice cracking slightly. ¡°Believe me, it mattered.¡± It looked like she was about to say something else, but in the end, she just closed her mouth tightly, gripped the ball, and looked away.


    Roald spoke instead, standing nearer to the shop door with a phone in one hand. ¡°We were just wishing Alloy good luck at that dinner thing tonight. Sounds like it¡¯s gonna be a real¡­ umm, something.¡±


    Grimacing despite myself, I nodded emphatically. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s bound to be a real something, that¡¯s for sure. Probably a bunch of rich people standing around, patting each other on the back, throwing some money around like it¡¯s water, and giving speeches that last way too long.¡±


    Alloy snorted, ¡°Listen to him, talking like he¡¯s been to sooo many of these things.¡± She gave me a look. ¡°Admit it, you¡¯re interested in seeing how this whole thing goes too.¡±


    Well, at least my cover was intact. Forcing myself to sound casual, I replied, ¡°I have a feeling we¡¯ll be pretty bored before the night is over.¡±


    ¡°By which,¡± Murphy put in while turning back to face me once more, ¡°he means he really hopes he¡¯s bored. Because the alternative is that something went wrong again and everything is on fire.¡± She offered a weak smile by the end of that, before immediately ducking her gaze once more with a guilty look as thoughts of her brother clearly intruded.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I spoke up, gesturing toward the door. ¡°Let¡¯s go inside for a few minutes. You can tell us about Tyson.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± She blinked at that, confused and uncertain. ¡°You don¡¯t want to hear me talk about my brother again. You¡¯ve got that party to go to.¡±


    ¡°And we will, later,¡± I confirmed. ¡°But we¡¯ve got some time right now. I¡¯m not in a rush, believe me. That dinner will still be there later. And yes, I do want to hear you talk about your brother again.¡± But far more importantly, she needed to talk about him. That much was obvious.


    Giving me a long, appraising look, Murphy finally shook her head and muttered, ¡°You¡¯re a really weird kid, you know that?¡±


    With a quick, easy nod, I agreed, ¡°People have said that now and then. Now come on. Roald, you still got those cards you¡¯ve been playing with at the tunnel?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, yeah?¡± He dug in his pocket to come out with the worn deck.


    ¡°Great.¡± Giving him a thumbs up, I waved with the other hand for everyone to go inside. ¡°Then let¡¯s get in there and see if Wren wants to play.


    ¡°If we¡¯re going to be a dangerous influence, we might as well teach her poker while we¡¯re at it.¡±


    *******


    We did not have to teach Wren poker. Not only did the kid already know how to play, she cleaned our clocks.


    Honestly, I should have realized something was up as soon as Fred had a coughing fit when I brought up the idea of teaching her how to play. At the time, I¡¯d thought that he was just stopping himself from objecting. But no, now I realized he had definitely been laughing.


    It was still worth it though. For about forty minutes, we¡¯d sat around the table in the shop and played cards while letting Murphy tell stories about Tyson. There were good stories, bad stories, sad ones, and ones that made even Murphy laugh. At least, until she cried again.


    Wren had clearly won the games. But I was pretty sure Murphy had won a good bit too, just from being there. She had needed that far more than Peyton and I needed to get to the party.


    Still, we did need to make an appearance. So the two of us eventually said our goodbyes, left the others to play without us, and headed out together.


    Once outside, we made our way to the nearby roof and I used the handy dandy GPS mapping function that Wren had included in my helmet to tell me which way to go to the place the Seraphs were using for this whole party thing. They weren¡¯t having it on Seraph grounds, but rather at a large convention center a mile or so away from there. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly why, unless it had to do with the size of the crowd or something. Which itself was pretty odd. This was just a thing for rich people, right? How many rich people could there be?


    Either way, it was bound to be incredibly well-protected. But then again, the mayor¡¯s fundraiser event across from the children¡¯s hospital had been well-protected too, and look how that went.


    ¡°You think something bad is gonna happen tonight?¡± Peyton asked, as we stood on the edge of that roof.


    ¡°Okay, one, you are entirely too good at reading my emotions considering you can¡¯t see my face,¡± I informed her with a look.


    ¡°Body language, Boss,¡± she replied easily, shrugging. ¡°I can¡¯t help it if you¡¯re basically an open book.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I waved a hand. ¡°That¡¯s me, open book. Uh, anyway, two, I want us to be prepared in case it does. I don¡¯t think anyone in any of the main gangs will try anything at an event that¡¯s gonna have that many Star-Touched and other armed people around, but I wouldn¡¯t put it past the Scions to try something just to lash out at people for¡­¡±


    ¡°For what we did,¡± the other girl finished for me, her voice flat.


    Wincing a little, I put a hand out to touch her arm. ¡°We did the right thing.¡± Yet even as I said that, I felt a pang of guilt. Jolene Iverson had been murdered specifically because she reported on the information we exposed. Right thing or not, if we hadn¡¯t exposed Pencil and Cup¡¯s true identities, she would still be alive.


    Yes, they would have killed people anyway, and exposing their identities was a real step toward catching them¡­ maybe. It was the right thing to do. And yet¡­


    And yet the pain in my stomach whenever I thought about Jolene Iverson and the people who had cared about her still remained.


    Staring at me through that moment of silent introspection, Peyton quietly murmured, ¡°Yup, definitely an open book.¡± It was her turn to reach out to squeeze my arm then. ¡°I¡­ for some reason I always forget I¡¯m sort of the older one here. It doesn¡¯t seem like it. You¡¯re just so¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you have to be the mature one.¡±


    Oh boy was there ever a lot I wanted to say to that. Instead, I forced all of it down and simply turned to look at her once more. ¡°I¡¯m just glad I have people to talk to now. And someone to go with me to this party.¡±


    ¡°Changing the subject?¡± she asked, as the extra marbles turned into question marks around her head.


    ¡°Yup,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Did it work?¡±


    With a quiet chuckle, Peyton gestured. ¡°Sure. We uhh, we can talk about that later.¡±


    Giving her a thumbs up, I turned back to the edge of the roof. ¡°Great, for now let¡¯s go party. I don¡¯t know about you, but I am starving. And if something does happen, I¡¯d like to deal with it after eating.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say the food thing is supposed to come after all the boring speeches?¡± she pointed out. ¡°You know, as the last possible thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God, you¡¯re right,¡± I agreed. ¡°We¡¯re doomed.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 10 - Minority Guys

    Laki Sefo/Wobble


    Present Day


    The repetitive sound of a basketball hitting pavement filled the park early in the morning. A tall, lone figure was backlit by the rising sun as it came across the horizon. In the crisp air, he dribbled the ball between his legs and back again before rising up to shoot from the three-point line. The ball swished smoothly through the net before falling directly into the hands of a man who had approached from the sidelines.


    ¡°Looking good, Laki,¡± the curly-haired blond man announced while turning the ball over in his hands. Thirty years earlier, Harris Mauter had been on his way to the NBA, before twisting his knee his last year of university. He¡¯d taken to coaching basketball first for college before his own bitterness at his situation had seen him demoted to high school. There, he¡¯d found his calling and become relatively stable and happy. Or rather, normally happy. Aside from when one of his most-promising young athletes went and threw their whole career away for nothing.


    It was that very athlete the man was staring at just then. Laki Sefo. Just sixteen years old, yet he stood six feet, seven inches tall. And unlike many youths who grew tall early, Laki wasn¡¯t thin. He was well-built, and often passed for being an adult. Hell, the Samoan boy had been passing as an adult for a couple years. And the boy had talent. Incredible talent. At fifteen and only a sophomore the year before, he had led his public high school team to be state champions.


    And then he quit. It happened shortly after the party to celebrate their final win. The boy, who was set to cruise on through two more years of high school before being snatched up on a full scholarship to any university he wanted ahead of an inevitable NBA career, had quit the sport entirely. No reason given, no injury, nothing. He still played like a champion, but he just¡­ refused to.


    Catching the ball as the man tossed it to him, Laki quietly replied, ¡°Thanks, Coach.¡±


    ¡°Coach?¡± Harris tilted his head curiously. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, am I your coach? Was this entire past year a bad dream and you didn¡¯t throw away everything for no reason?¡±


    Grimacing a little, Laki spun the ball around in his hands before shaking his head. ¡°Sorry, Coach.¡±


    Harris paused, taking a breath before gesturing. ¡°Look, kid, I drive by here every morning. And I see you out here a lot. Even watched you play a couple pick-up games. You¡¯re just as good as you used to be. Maybe better. You say the word and you can come right back. Everything forgiven, same spot again. I mean, technically you¡¯d have to try out and earn it, but we both know that¡¯s not a problem.¡±


    Laki was quiet for a moment, still holding the ball. He knew just how badly the man wanted him to say yes. He knew¡­ he knew how badly he wanted to say yes. He loved basketball as much as he loved anything else. And yet, in the end, the boy simply shook his head. His voice was soft as he repeated his last words. ¡°Sorry, Coach. I¡­ need to get to work.¡±


    With that, he turned and began to walk away, while Harris stared after him in disbelief. The man called out a question about where he was working, and that they both knew he still loved basketball, but Laki didn¡¯t respond to either. He didn¡¯t want to lie to the man. Not after already disappointing him. And he couldn¡¯t tell him the truth about where he was working. He couldn¡¯t tell him the truth about why he had quit the team.


    He couldn¡¯t tell him what had really happened, the night of the championship game.


    ********


    One Year Earlier


    Lying on his back on the cement in his own backyard (well, his family¡¯s backyard), fifteen-year-old (and already six-foot three) Laki held one hand out toward the basketball hoop attached to a metal post. A series of vibrations shot from his outstretched finger, carefully calculated to carry the ball through the air, directing it somewhat precariously toward and finally through the hoop. As the ball fell, he sent a stronger vibration that way, making it bounce the ball off the nearby garage wall and back toward him so he could catch the thing without getting up.


    ¡°Damn, dude,¡± another boy, standing closer to the gate leading out of the backyard, shook his head. He wasn¡¯t nearly as tall as Laki, standing only five feet, seven inches. His blond hair was  fashioned into a faux-hawk, and he had a ready smile. ¡°That shit¡¯s cool, every time I see it.¡± Stepping over, he looked down at the other boy (Laki lying on his back was basically the only time he would be able to look down to see him). ¡°Still can¡¯t believe you got that lucky. Come on, your life is already perfect. You¡¯ve got like, a hundred million dollar NBA career ahead of you and you find one of those orbs? So now you¡¯re a superstar basketball player and you have actual superpowers. Save some for the rest of us, huh?¡±


    Chuckling easily, Laki pushed himself to his feet. ¡°Sorry, Ken. Like I said, it just showed up while I was waiting for the bus. I didn¡¯t exactly call for it. But tell you what, next time, I¡¯ll make sure to ask the orb to stick around so you can touch it too.¡±


    With a snort, Ken retorted, ¡°See, you joke, but I wouldn¡¯t put it past you to find a second orb to get even more powers. That sounds just like you.¡± Checking his phone then, he added, ¡°I gotta run. But I¡¯ll be there tonight. You¡¯re gonna win, right?¡±


    Laki, in turn, offered a broad smile and wink. ¡°Can¡¯t predict the future, dude. Grand Rapids has a pretty good team.¡± He let that sit in the air for a moment before laughing. ¡°But yeah, we¡¯re gonna smoke ¡®em.¡±


    The boys exchanged high fives before Laki watched his friend head out the gate. Still antsy, unable to make himself sit still for the hour it would take before it was time to head out for the game, the tall boy decided to go for a jog. He could listen to music, clear his head, and get himself in the right frame of mind.


    Almost fifty minutes later, he was on his way back home after completing a nice loop. Earbuds blasting one of his favorite songs, Laki jogged down the street several blocks from his house. He would be home in a minute, and would have just enough time to grab a lift from his dad to the school. In that moment, the boy was mostly lost in his own world, thinking about how the game was going to go. And about how great it would feel for his team to be state champions.


    He was not so lost in thought, however, that he didn¡¯t notice another boy approaching from the side, crossing the street with his hand raised. Slowing, Laki looked that way. He sort of recognized the boy as someone from school, and around the neighborhood, but they had never really interacted.


    ¡°Uh, hey, Laki. Uh, hi.¡± The boy, black with a buzz cut and an oversized football jersey, started awkwardly. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re Laki. Of course you are. I just¨Cum, my name¡¯s Joe. Joe Pallamarti. We don¡¯t-uhh, know each other or anything. I mean, you probably don¡¯t know anything about me. But I live right down the street, we go to the same school, and¨C¡±


    ¡°Hey, sorry, really cool to see you, Joe.¡± Giving the boy a casual smile, Laki started to move past him. ¡°I gotta head out so I can get to the game. You gonna be there?¡±


    ¡°Wa-wait!¡± Joe called out, face heavily flushed. ¡°Look, I¨Cfuck, fuck. I need your help, man.¡±


    His words made the taller boy blink, slowing a bit. ¡°Uh, what? You okay?¡±


    Joe folded his arms against his stomach, looking distinctly uncomfortable. ¡°Look, I¨CI was there, okay? I saw you touch that Orb the other day. I saw what you¨CI mean¨C I wasn¡¯t gonna say anything. I¡¯m not gonna say anything. Not to anybody. Never, ever. Not a fucking word. But I¨CI need your help. And I can¡¯t think of anyone else to talk to about it.¡±


    Eyes widening through that, Laki gave a quick shake of his head. ¡°What¨Chey, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. But if you think you can latch on and blackmail¨C¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Joe hurriedly insisted. ¡°No, no, that¡¯s not what¨CI swear, I won¡¯t tell anyone. That¡¯s not what this is¨CI¡¯m explaining it wrong. Listen, I just need¨C¡±


    Laki put a finger against the boy¡¯s chest, pushing him back. ¡°Whatever kind of game you think you¡¯re playing, I don¡¯t want anything to do with it. If you try to fuck me over, you¡¯ll regret it.¡±


    ¡°No, I swear!¡± Joe¡¯s voice was desperate. ¡°It¡¯s not about¨CI need¡­ look, there¡¯s this guy, he keeps harassing my sister. She told him off but he won¡¯t listen and¨Cand I¡¯m afraid he¡¯s gonna come back. I just want you to tell him to back off, that¡¯s all. I mean, look¨Cyou¡¯re huge. And with your¨C¡± He lowered his voice to a whisper. ¡°With your powers, if you wore a mask or something, you could put the fear of God into him, you know? You could make him leave her alone.¡±


    Opening his mouth, Laki hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t¨Cthat¡¯s not¡­ why don¡¯t you call the cops?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think I tried?¡± Joe insisted. ¡°They don¡¯t listen. He hasn¡¯t done anything, so they just said they can¡¯t step in. Just¨CI know he¡¯s going to come back today. Any minute now. If we could run over there, it¡¯ll just take a¨C¡±


    ¡°Whoa, whoa, now?¡± Laki¡¯s head shook. ¡°Hey, sorry. Look, maybe I can come help you out later, but not right now. Are you crazy? It¡¯s the last game tonight, the championship. You know, that thing everyone at school is talking about.¡±


    ¡°But if you¨C¡± Joe started.


    ¡°Later,¡± Laki interrupted. ¡°Seriously, come by after the game. We¡¯ll go over and find that guy you were talking about. Make him lay off your sister. But I gotta go right now. I¡¯ll see you then, dude.¡±


    As he started jogging back to his house, the other boy stood where he was, calling after him, ¡°What if he shows up?!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine!¡± Laki called back, already putting it out of his mind. He had other things to focus on. Couldn¡¯t let his coach down. Couldn¡¯t let his team down. Couldn¡¯t let the scouts who would definitely be there that night down.


    Time to show how good he really was.


    *****


    Much later that evening, Laki was high off the adrenaline of leading his team through the championship. They won. They were indisputably the best team in the state, no question about it. He had been on fire all night long. It was the best game of his high school career. Those college scouts were damn sure to be calling. Things couldn¡¯t get any better.


    Stepping out of the car after his friends dropped him off, the boy was about to head inside when flashing lights down the street caught his attention. Turning that way, he saw several police cars and an ambulance outside of a house in the distance. The sight made him frown, walking that way before he knew what he was doing.


    There was a small crowd of neighbors gathered around the house, held back by police crime scene tape. Ken was already there, glancing over as the other boy approached. ¡°What a fucking nightmare, huh? I mean, uh, congrats and all. But¡­¡± He turned back to look at the house in the distance. ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Laki was frowning even more. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± Ken grimaced. ¡°Sorry to bring you down on your big night.¡± He nodded to the house. ¡°That¡¯s Joe Pallamarti¡¯s house. You don¡¯t know him, but he goes¨C¡±


    ¡°To our school,¡± Laki finished. ¡°I know him. Why¨Cwhat happened?¡±


    Ken shrugged. ¡°Some guy his sister was dating or something. Sounds like she dumped him, so he came over, broke his way into the house, and uhh, things got ugly. Joe tried to get in the way, but uhh, he and his sister both got shot. They didn¡¯t make it.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t¨C¡± Laki reeled backward, eyes wide. ¡°Wha-what the fuck do you mean, didn¡¯t make it? He was just¨Che was¨CI¨C¡± He doubled over a little, voice hoarse. Bile filled his throat. ¡°I should¡¯ve¡­ I should¡¯ve¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey, man, ease up.¡± Ken reached out, putting a hand on his friend¡¯s arm. ¡°It¡¯s fucked up, but come on. You didn¡¯t even know them, man. You were at the game, you didn¡¯t know anything about it. You weren¡¯t here.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing you could¡¯ve done, right?¡±


    **********


    Damarko Myers/Syndicate


    Present Day


    Standing in front of what would look from the outside like a completely mundane tool shed in an out-of-the-way alley, Damarko Myers stood facing himselves. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say all four of him stood facing themselves.


    Being a single person with four different bodies and separate minds was complicated. Two years earlier, there had been only one of him. Then the tall (though not nearly as tall as Wobble), dark-skinned and wiry boy had Touched. First there had been two more of him, though only one of the group could be solid at any given time. They had called themselves Trilogy. But six months later a fourth version had appeared, so their name had become Syndicate. Individually, they went by animal names to differentiate amongst themselves. Rabbit, Colt, Puma, and Armadillo.


    In their insubstantial form, the various versions of Damarko could choose whether they were visible to everyone (though with a blueish-gray ghostlike appearance), or only to each other (including whichever of them was solid at the time). At the moment, they were only visible to one another. So, anyone who might have happened to look down that alley would see what appeared to be a lone Damarko, dressed in jeans and a long open flannel shirt over a black tee, tapping his fist three times against his other palm before showing one or two fingers to¡­ apparently no one. That repeated a few quick times before he pumped his fist in the air, and then immediately vanished, only to reappear a few feet away.


    No, he didn¡¯t teleport. That version (Rabbit) simply became insubstantial, while Colt turned solid. Snapping his fingers, Colt insisted, ¡°Someday I¡¯m going to figure out what my tell is, then I¡¯ll win one of those games.¡±


    ¡°Sure, buddy,¡± Rabbit retorted with a grin. ¡°But until then, you get toilet duty.¡±


    ¡°I dunno what you¡¯re grinning about,¡± Colt shot back, ¡°Trash duty isn¡¯t that much better.¡±


    ¡°Sure seems better to me,¡± Rabbit replied, shrugging. ¡°But maybe that¡¯s cuz the trash doesn¡¯t go out for another three hours, and the restroom¡¯s right now.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    They, and the other two, continued to tease one another about what chores they had been saddled with that evening while turning to move toward the nearby shed. Colt, as the solid one, reached out to press his hand against the seemingly blank wall next to the door. As he did so, his palm activated the button, which activated the pinhole camera a couple feet higher. The camera was basically invisible. He only knew where to look in order to see the tiny hole it was looking through thanks to being told exactly where it was. The thing scanned his eyes, and there was a brief pause before the door clicked, allowing him to open it.


    Technically, the other three versions of him were intangible and capable of going through the door before it opened. But the place had a lot of security against that sort of intrusion. Which they knew from past experience. If they did try to go straight in, it would have set off about a dozen different alarms, called in aid from various authorities, and just been a complete mess. Besides, simply going into the building like that wouldn¡¯t actually accomplish anything anyway. So, they waited before heading in with their solid brother.


    The shed¡¯s interior didn¡¯t look any different than it should have. It appeared to be a completely empty small building. But, as the door shut, the Touched-Tech built by the Ten Towers Touched known as Switchshift went to work. A moment later, there was an audible ding, and Colt reached back to open the door once more. Rather than admitting them to the same alley they had just left, the quartet emerged into a wide, circular room with a desk to one side, a pair of double doors straight ahead with an enormous clock above them, and an elevator to the left.


    ¡°Syndicate.¡± Smiling warmly, the blonde woman in her forties who sat behind the desk rose and emerged from behind it. ¡°Or should I say¡­ Colt¡­ Armadillo¡­ Rabbit¡­ and Puma.¡± With each pronouncement, she pointed to one of the boys in particular.


    All four of them stared at her. The intangible trio had made themselves visible in those blue-gray ghostly forms just to test her (for about the thousandth time), and were still surprised by the results. Armadillo shook his head. ¡°You know, someday we¡¯re going to figure out how you do that, Ms. Esters.¡±


    His words made the woman smile. ¡°Just like I told you before, I have triplets. You get pretty good at telling them apart with enough practice.¡± Her hand gestured back to the desk, where a framed photograph of the woman with her husband and the identical ten-year-olds was visible. ¡°So, who¡¯s doing what tonight, boys? I¡¯ve got a porcelain ticket, an emerald ticket, tile ticket, and fuzzy ticket.¡±


    Puma spoke up. ¡°You know, no matter what cute names you give them, it¡¯s still restroom cleaning, trash collection, kitchen clean-up, and vacuuming the clubhouse.¡±


    ¡°Sure sounds like you¡¯re the one with toilet duty,¡± she teased him with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Rabbit put in. ¡°He¡¯s in the kitchen. Colt¡¯s the one cleaning the toilet. I¡¯ve got trash. And uh, Armadillo gets to play with the vacuum.¡±


    ¡°Well then.¡± Turning, Ms. Esters stepped over to a cupboard behind her desk and returned with a bucket, mop, and other cleaning supplies, which she handed over to Colt. In the bucket was also a box of large trash bags for Rabbit to use when the time came. To Puma, the woman added, ¡°When you clean up that kitchen, don¡¯t forget to really get into the inside of that microwave. Those hot pockets make a real mess. And you boys let me know if you need any help.¡±


    ¡°I guess that means there¡¯s no reports?¡± Colt sounded a bit hopeful. Anything to get him out of focusing on the bathroom.


    His words drew a sly, knowing smirk from the woman. ¡°Nothing just yet, but you know how it¡¯s been lately. Something could come in any minute.¡± Before he could smile, she added, ¡°Which means you should get in there and scrub that toilet now, while you¡¯ve got the chance.¡± Her voice turned to a stage-whisper. ¡°Believe me when I say, it needs it. And you know the rules about cleaning the Clubhouse.¡±


    The Clubhouse was the term for the areas of the Minority Headquarters where the actual team members hung out, trained, played games, ate food, and generally stayed while they were on-duty but not patrolling or responding to a situation. The Minority Headquarters itself technically consisted of two other floors full of support personnel and office workers. It took a surprising number of people to run this team of teenage superheroes. There were two private practice lawyers and their assorted paralegals for dealing with civil cases and legal questions that arose, a handful of police officers who worked directly with the team and were assigned to the building, three people whose job it was to scour the internet for anything that could possibly either make the Minority look bad or potentially expose their identities, at least four full-time accountants, and a couple of technicians down in the lab picking through new toys that were either sent in from other Tech-Touched who wanted to help, or scavenged from crime scenes. In most cases, the latter were sent to bigger labs such as those used by the Conservators. But they did have a small place here.


    Beyond all that, there were even more people working in the various offices. Even a couple of public relations people to help keep their team looking good in the eyes of the rest of the city. To say nothing of all the special investigators they had. All in all, it was a very busy building. And those people had plenty of their own support personnel, employees who kept the building clean, delivered their mail throughout the offices, and so forth. All except for the Clubhouse itself. The area where the teenagers hung out. There was a very firm rule that it was up to the members of the Minority themselves to clean their area. They cleaned up their kitchen, their bathroom, took out their trash, vacuumed their own carpet, and so forth. Some might have said that they already did a lot of work putting their powers toward helping people, but the people who had instituted that rule wanted to make sure the teenagers didn¡¯t end up thinking they were above everyone by having what amounted to servants clean up their hangout every week. They still got plenty of benefits, including a salary and a lot of free food (always good for growing teenagers). But cleaning up their own messes was non-negotiable.


    Together, the four identical figures thanked the woman and turned to head for the elevator. The double doors straight ahead from the entrance they had come through would have led them to the office area where everyone else worked. Those doors were securely locked, and monitored by Ms. Esters or one of the other two who took turns at that desk, to stop anyone who didn¡¯t have clearance from accidentally seeing the Minority members unmasked or fully in civilian clothes. She, and the other two, were essentially their¡­ minders. And tutors when the occasion called for it. They stayed upstairs for the most part, leaving the Minority teens to carry on as they wished so long as they followed the rules.


    Syndicate didn¡¯t head for the doors, however. They turned and walked to the elevator. Unlike the normal ones inside the main office, this one only went down to one area, the Clubhouse.


    Once they were on the elevator and the doors had closed behind them, the Damarkos glanced at one another. Puma spoke first. ¡°She still reminds me of¨C¡±


    ¡°¨CAlice,¡± Armadillo finished. All four nodded together, their expressions identical not only in physical appearance, but also in the pain that passed through them.


    The elevator doors had opened by then, but none of them moved. It didn¡¯t feel right to do so. Not yet. Not until they had all lowered their heads, staring at their own feet for several long seconds as the memory washed over them.


    Alice Mcgregor. Four years earlier, she had been the then-singular Damarko¡¯s piano teacher. Between the ages of ten and thirteen, he had visited her house twice a week to take lessons and practice. He wasn¡¯t an expert or anything, but he had gotten pretty good. Mostly because Alice was a good teacher.


    Then she was killed. Not at her house or anything. She had been mugged and murdered at a bus stop late at night. Damarko¡¯s parents didn¡¯t tell him the truth about it at first, of course. He¡¯d had to read the details online. Something he still regretted doing. Worse, they never caught her killer. It was just a random attack.


    It was the memory of Alice¡¯s killer escaping justice that had helped prompt Damarko to join the Minority when he eventually found an orb and Touched two years after that event. The Touching part itself wasn¡¯t traumatic or anything. He had simply been playing lasertag with some friends, huddled behind cover, when an orb showed up right in front of his gun. He thought it was part of the room at first, a new special effect or something. But then he reached out to touch it and¡­ well, things had never been the same.


    The point was, remembering reading about the savage murder of his old piano teacher, a nice woman who had given him chocolate and peppermint candy, two years before that moment had convinced all of the Damarkos to head straight to the Minority and sign up to help however they could. And now here they were.


    Raising their gazes to look at one another, the four gave an assortment of firm, silent nods. Their promise to help anyone they could reestablished, they turned to walk out into the Clubhouse, Colt dragging the mop and bucket with them.


    It was time to go to work.


    *****


    Jerry Meuster/Whamline


    A Little Over One Year Ago


    Throwing open the door to his bedroom with a slam, the red-haired teenager rushed inside, already cursing. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck!¡± Rather than anger, his tone was one of fear and desperation. He quickly began to yank his jacket off while kicking the door shut behind him. In a frantic rush that ended up being far less efficient than if he had taken his time, and nearly made him fall over repeatedly, the boy stripped himself down to being completely naked.


    Still cursing the whole time, tears in his eyes, he grabbed all the clothes and threw them into an old duffel bag. His shaking hands zipped it up, before he cursed even more emphatically and unzipped it to yank all his possessions out of the pockets. Then he zipped it back up, and stood while grabbing the bag. The boy was halfway back to his door before remembering that he was naked. Throwing the bag down, he raced to put on new clothes.


    Once he was actually dressed, Jerry Meuster went to grab the bag once more before jerking with a yelp as his cell phone buzzed and vibrated from the pile of stuff on the floor. Staring at it as though the thing was a hissing snake, he hesitated before gulping as he grabbed the phone and checked the caller ID. A relieved sigh at what he saw escaped the boy before he answered.


    ¡°Yeah? No, I¡¯m not fucking kidding! It was an accident, asshole! I was just fucking around, the dude wasn¡¯t even supposed to¨Cyeah. Of course not, how fucking stupid do you think I am? But I¡¯ve gotta get rid of the clothes, right? You know, for like, evidence and shit. No, I didn¡¯t throw it away. I¡¯ve gotta¨Cyeah. Fuck, fuck. Just meet me out by the school. I don¡¯t know, it seems like the right place. Whatever, just fucking meet me there! And bring some gasoline!¡±


    Clicking the phone off, he gave one more look around the room before racing back out, letting the door slam behind him once more. A shout came in from the far side of the house about not slamming things, but he ignored it for the moment. There were more important things for him to focus on. Like not ending up in prison.


    *****


    Jogging across the school parking lot several minutes later with the duffle bag on his shoulder, Jerry approached another boy who was standing there waiting for him. The second boy was slightly taller, a Latino teenager with long dark hair. He turned as Jerry approached, jolting a bit. ¡°Fuck, you scared the shit out of me. That¡¯s the clothes?¡±


    Shaking the bag on his shoulder, the other boy gave a quick nod. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t leave them at home. Did you bring the fucking gas, Jorge?¡±


    ¡°Over there.¡± Jorge nodded to a red gas can, sitting next to a large metal trash container that was chained to the ground. ¡°You sure you need to burn them? I mean, you didn¡¯t like¡­ get blood on you or anything, did you?¡±


    Giving the other boy a sharp look, Jerry retorted, ¡°I¡¯m not taking any chances. You think I want to end up in prison just because some guy was too fucking stupid to live? I was just screwing around, having a little fun. He¡¯s the one who¨C¡± Cutting himself off, he made a growling sound in the back of his throat before walking over to dump the contents of the bag, and then the bag itself, into the large trash barrel. That done, he stooped to pick up the gas can and began to empty it over the clothes. Once they were all thoroughly doused, the boy held his hand out. ¡°Gimme your lighter.¡±


    After a brief hesitation, Jorge stepped over that way and passed him the flip lighter from his pocket. ¡°Be careful with it, I¨C¡±


    Taking the thing, Jerry simply flipped it open to get a small flame and then tossed it into the can. Immediately, there was a whoosh as the contents went up.


    ¡°¨Clike that lighter,¡± Jorge finished, staring at the tall flames. ¡°Damn it.¡±


    ¡°No evidence,¡± Jerry insisted, watching the fire burn. ¡°We watch this for awhile until we¡¯re sure it¡¯s all gone, then we¡¯ll put it out. Gardener¡¯s still got the hose attached to the school over there. We make sure it¡¯s all destroyed. Can¡¯t have anything tying me back there.¡±


    The two of them stood there silently for a few minutes of silence, both lost in thought. Finally, Jorge spoke in a soft voice. ¡°Kinda feel shitty about that guy, huh?¡±


    Jerry didn¡¯t respond for a moment, his eyes locked onto the flames. His eyes closed, head tilting a bit before he quietly replied, ¡°Yeah, shitty. That guy shouldn¡¯t have been out there. Shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve¡­ fuck. It¡¯s all so fucked up, you know? Why the fuck did he have to be there?¡±


    Jorge opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and remained silent. His eyes moved back and forth between the flaming barrel and the other boy, a thoughtful look crossing his face before his gaze rose toward the sky.


    ¡°We clean this up,¡± Jerry finally announced after another few minutes had passed, ¡°and then we never talk about it again. You understand? Once we¡¯re done with this, it never happened. We don¡¯t talk about it, we don¡¯t write anything about it, we do nothing about it. It¡¯s over. We erase it with the fire, right?¡±


    After a moment of silence that made Jerry move his gaze from the barrel over to his friend, Jorge finally gave a short nod, his own voice barely audible against the crackle of the flames. ¡°Right. We erase it and walk away.


    ¡°It¡¯s over.¡±


    *******


    ¡°Three weeks, man!¡± Jerry snapped. ¡°We burned those fucking clothes three weeks ago. It was over, remember? It was over! We said we weren¡¯t going to talk about it again, so why the fuck did you bring it up?¡±


    The two boys were standing in an alley several blocks from the diner that Jerry¡¯s family ran, late into the evening. It was almost midnight, as they stared at one another, expressions barely visible through the light of the distant streetlamps.


    ¡°Why?¡± Jorge echoed. ¡°You know why! You know what they found!¡±


    Rolling his eyes, Jerry¡¯s head shook. ¡°And I¡¯m telling you, they can¡¯t trace it back to me. I didn¡¯t leave any evidence in there, okay? Nothing they can use. I wiped the whole thing off. Even if they got some fabric or whatever, we burned my clothes, remember? They¡¯ve got nothing. We¡¯re fine!¡±


    Turning away, Jorge groaned, putting his hands to his face. ¡°I never should have gotten involved. I never should have showed you how to do any of that. I should¡¯ve¨Cfuck, fuck, fuck!¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Jerry reached out, grabbing the other boy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Just calm down. It was an accident, okay? It was an accident and it¡¯s over. Nobody knows I was there, and nobody knows you had any involvement at all. We¡¯re cool. We¡¯re safe. It¡¯s all good.¡±


    ¡°All good?¡± Jorge made a face, pulling his shoulder away before turning to look at his friend. ¡°Dude, you fucking killed a guy. How is that all good?¡±


    ¡°It was an accident!¡± Jerry snapped, voice rising to a near-shout before catching himself. ¡°It¡¯s like I said, total and complete accident. I didn¡¯t know he was there, okay? I didn¡¯t mean to hurt him. I didn¡¯t¨Cfuck. I didn¡¯t mean for any of that to happen. But I¡¯m not going down for it just because he was in the way. So calm down. They don¡¯t have anything tying me to that. All we have to do is keep our heads down and not say anything. This¡¯ll blow over. Hell, it¡¯s already blowing over. They¡¯ve got more important things to focus on.¡±


    Jorge fell silent, clearly choosing over his words before looking up once more. ¡°Listen, if they do track you down, it¡¯s gonna be really bad. Straight up murder charges or whatever, cuz you ran and you hid it. But if you, you know, negotiate with them and get it down to accidental manslaughter or¨C¡±


    ¡°Why the fuck would I say anything to them?¡± Jerry demanded. ¡°Like I said, they¡¯ve got nothing. They can¡¯t find me. They can¡¯t track me down. They don¡¯t even know who the fuck I am. I don¡¯t need to negotiate them down from murder to manslaughter, because they can¡¯t get me for either of them! They don¡¯t know who I am!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I know,¡± Jorge stammered. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, if we talk to them about how it was an accident, and like¨C¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Jerry interrupted once more. He took a step that way, eyes narrowing. ¡°The fuck do you mean ¡®we?¡¯ You mean me? It¡¯s my fucking ass on the line, dude. You¡¯re my friend, right? So we don¡¯t say anything to them, right? Because that¡¯s the way we make this go away, right?¡±


    Jorge took a deep breath before exhaling. ¡°Right.¡± Turning away to stare at the brick wall once more, he added, ¡°Maybe we can send something to his family. Like, anonymousl¡ª¡±


    In mid-sentence, the boy gave a sudden grunt of surprise and pain, jerking violently.


    ¡°Shhh.¡± Jerry held a hand clamped over the boy¡¯s mouth, shoving the knife deeper into his back before bringing it out to stab again, then a third time. ¡°Shhh. I told you. I fucking told you to drop it. I told you not to bring it up again! Now you¡¯re talking about sending shit to his family? You wouldn¡¯t let it go, would you? You wouldn¡¯t¨C¡± He brought the knife back out and then stabbed it in again one last time. ¡°¨Clet it go!¡±


    Stepping back, he let the body fall to the ground, panting as he stared down at it. The knife was still buried in the boy¡¯s back, and he reached down while taking out a handkerchief to wipe off the handle. Once that was done, he looked around the empty alley quickly before stepping back to fumble with his phone until it was out of his pocket. His fingers dialed 911, and Jerry stammered, ¡°Pl-please, come quick. Please, my friend¨Cit¡¯s my friend, we were mugged and¨Cand they stabbed him. They stabbed him in the back¡ªhe¨Che¡¯s not breathing! Please, come quick! Please!¡±


    In mid-plea, the boy saw something out of the corner of his eye. Ignoring the operator¡¯s requests to stay on the line, he disconnected and turned his head.


    An orb. A glowing orb was floating right next to him, as though staring at the body on the ground. Seeing it, everything else seemed to wash away. Slowly, he raised his hand and reached out toward the orb.


    Soon, Jerry Meuster would have his own superpowers. He would choose to join the Minority, as everyone there would believe the orb had come to him in the wake of witnessing his friend¡¯s murder. Which, of course, was technically true. He would even have a pretty good time playing superhero for awhile, much to his own surprise.


    Although his surprise at how much he enjoyed being a member of the Minority was nothing compared to when he found out just who one of his teammates was. After all, in all of his planning how could he possibly have expected to find himself working side by side with Amber O¡¯Connell¡­


    The daughter of the man Jerry had hit and killed while joyriding in a stolen car.

 Equal And Opposite 21-05

    ¡°Okay, this is not what I expected,¡± Alloy declared a short time later. ¡°You didn¡¯t say it was gonna be like this.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ uhhh¡­.¡± I trailed off, unable to speak.


    The convention center was, to say the least, packed. Seriously, you would have thought that there was some sort of championship game being played there, or that a big star like Lou Devereux was going to show up. There was no room in the parking lot aside from the super VIP spots, so it was probably a good thing we weren¡¯t showing up with a car. Similarly, I really hoped that we wouldn¡¯t have to wait in the line that stretched out of the building and down the sidewalk, full of people waiting to show their tickets and get in.


    Standing atop the roof of the convention center, staring at the packed lot and the line of people below, I found myself swallowing nervously. ¡°Uh, that¡¯s a lot of people,¡± I murmured under my breath.


    Alloy gave me a look, having switched up her marble costume to go with (mostly) the first set she¡¯d ever used, metallic knight-like armor that was black along the legs and arms with gold highlights, and a gold chestplate with black highlights. Rather than her initial white knight helmet, however, the black and gold rose up to form a samurai-shaped one. ¡°You think?¡± she demanded, nerves clear in her voice. ¡°I thought this was just going to be, like, a school assembly sort of thing. Or, you know, some private function with a few rich people we could laugh at behind their backs. You didn¡¯t say it was gonna be like¨Clike¨Cthe fucking Superbowl!¡±


    ¡°Oh, trust me, this is nothing like the Superbowl,¡± I reflexively replied, before catching myself. ¡°I mean, have you seen how huge those crowds are on TV?¡± Pausing, I grimaced. ¡°That¡¯s not really helpful right now, is it?¡± As her head shook, I quickly put in, ¡°If you want to take off, don¡¯t worry, I get it. That¡¯s a lot of pressure down there. I umm, I didn¡¯t really expect it to be like this either. Really, really didn¡¯t.¡± I felt a little faint, standing there staring down at that.


    I had already texted the number that Hallowed sent me, to ask how we were supposed to get in. If he said wait in line like everyone else, I was going to smack myself for waiting so long to actually come here. And for coming in the first place. This was, it was¡­


    Alloy hesitated a moment, clearly considering before her head shook. ¡°If you can handle it, so can I. I¡¯m not going to abandon you here.¡± Straightening up a bit, clearly forcing herself to look at me rather than the huge crowd, she pointedly added, ¡°That¡¯s not what good partners do.¡±


    ¡°Hear hear,¡± a new voice abruptly spoke up, making both of us spin to find Lucent behind us on the roof, perched on a piece of machinery. ¡°Tis quite the fine thing, to see such excellent allies prepared to brave the uncomfortable and awkward for one another.¡±


    Schooling myself to avoid yelping too much, I ignored my quickly-beating heart and replied, ¡°Hey, I know your team is all about working with hospitals and stuff, but are they so empty you have to drum up new business by giving people heart attacks?¡±


    Lucent¡¯s head dipped a bit in what I took as a gesture of apology and contritement. ¡°Beg pardon, twas truly not my intention to startle either of you. Nor to spy upon a private conversation.¡± Lifting one wing, he gestured to the machine he was perched on. ¡°This happens to be my own private entrance and exit from this facility, to avoid the ahh, crowds you have noticed.¡± As he said that, a hatch opened to reveal a small tunnel, just big enough for him to get through. ¡°I received a message from Hallowed that you were waiting up here. My intentions were to welcome and aid, not frighten and eavesdrop.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± I found myself noting, ¡°that¡¯s a pretty spiffy private entrance.¡± Pausing, I teased, ¡°And speaking of getting inside, I don¡¯t suppose it gets any bigger than that?¡±


    With an audible chuckle, the Touched-Raven shook his head. ¡°Apologies, they did not prepare it to accommodate humans. Clearly an oversight. Yet, should you wish to enter the building privately, there is a more appropriately sized door on the far side of the roof, that way.¡± He raised a wing to point. ¡°It is manned by a security gentleman who will simply assure that you are truly who you present yourselves as before allowing you admittance. Most Touched who come to events in this building enter through there.¡±


    Glancing that way, I saw the back of a raised structure. ¡°Oh, uhh, thanks, Pops.¡± Giving him a quick thumbs up, I gestured toward Alloy. ¡°See, told you we didn¡¯t have to get in the back of the line.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± she retorted, ¡°Because I forgot to bring my tent and sleeping bag.¡± Even as she said that, the remaining four marbles floating behind her abruptly transformed. Three became a tall, rigid tent-like structure with an open front, while the last one turned into a hammock hanging inside. Alloy, in turn, shot a look that way. ¡°Not that I couldn¡¯t have improvised.¡±


    Lucent¡¯s voice was proud. ¡°You appear to be gaining skill and creativity with your power by the day, Ms. Alloy. I applaud your progress.¡±


    Clearly blushing, Alloy stammered, ¡°I mean¨Cit¡¯s not a big¨CI ahh, um, thanks.¡± She coughed, squirming a little before waving both hands as the tent and hammock turned back into the marbles. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we go inside before we get in trouble for missing this whole thing or whatever?¡±


    ¡°Judging from the line out there, it won¡¯t be starting any time soon,¡± I pointed out, snickering a little as she shot a look at me. ¡°Yeah, yeah, we should get in there.¡± Lowering my voice, I focused on Lucent. ¡°But seriously, was this thing always such a big deal? How are they supposed to get all these people inside by eight o¡¯clock? Let alone get them seated for dinner and¨Cwait, how are they going to feed all those people?¡±


    ¡°It is quite the event,¡± he confirmed. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid you may be slightly confused. You see, the people below are here for the SPHERE forum convention, which will be happening throughout the main floor throughout the next couple of days. The dinner you have arrived for is actually in one of the smaller rooms on the upper floor. But you are, of course, welcome to tour the rest of the convention center afterwards to see various exhibitions. Or even demonstrate your own if you wish. Though, you should be prepared to run into others dressed as either of you. Most likely will not believe that you are the, as they say, ¡®real deal¡¯ without some proof.¡±


    Peyton coughed behind me. ¡°You mean dressed as him. No one knows me. I mean, no one would¡­¡± She trailed off, staring at him. ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°I assure you, Ms. Alloy, your popularity has been growing exponentially as well,¡± Lucent insisted. ¡°Your tendency to switch between multiple costumes aids those wishing to cosplay, as they may simply choose their favorite version, or any combination. Some even make up their own vaguely similar outfits and call themselves a future version of you.¡±


    Obviously blushing, Peyton made a noise in the back of her throat. ¡°Uhhhh, right. Um. That¡¯s really¨CI mean¨C¡± Turning to me, she hissed, ¡°You didn¡¯t say there were going to be people dressing up like me.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know there were gonna be people dressing up like me!¡± I shot back. ¡°This whole thing is a lot bigger than I thought it was. But uhh,¡± I glanced to Lucent. ¡°You said the actual dinner thing is more private?¡±


    ¡°Quite a bit,¡± he assured us. ¡°And should you wish to leave afterward, that is entirely your prerogative. Though I will note that mingling with others on the convention floor can be quite fun. I¡¯m told it can be amusing to walk through while the crowd assumes you are simply another cosplayer as they are. And rest assured, all who enter the building are thoroughly scanned for weapons or Touched-Tech disguises. Those in heavy masks for costumes are asked to reveal themselves to security, to be on the safe side. Between those measures and others, it is quite safe here.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll see how we feel after the dinner thing, right Alloy?¡± Honestly, I felt more comfortable with the idea of moving through the crowd of people down there than I felt about sitting in a private room listening to my parents give speeches while wondering how many of the super-rich people and other Touched sitting around me were actually connected to the Ministry. But I couldn¡¯t exactly say that.


    ¡°Honestly, I like the idea of being down with a big crowd of ordinary people having fun more than the idea of hanging out in a stuffy room with a bunch of rich and powerful people looking down at me,¡± Alloy informed me. Which¨Cokay fine, she could say that.


    Reaching out, I patted her on the shoulder (ignoring the fact that I had to reach up to do so). ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I get it. But hey, we have a ready-made crowded place to disappear into if things get too awkward or uncomfortable. Maybe we could even find a couple people dressed up as us to take our places.¡±


    Chuckling once more, Lucent flew over to land on my helmet. ¡°I wish you both luck with all such endeavors. Now, shall we get you inside so that you may at least make a token appearance as yourselves? There are those who will be quite pleased by your arrival.¡±


    So, we headed over to the area he had pointed out. As promised, there was a door there, partially concealed to look like the rest of the machinery. It was obvious once you were on the right side of it and close enough, but from the air it would blend in pretty well. As we approached, the door opened and a tall black man in a suit and tie stepped out. I could tell by the bulge in his jacket that he was armed, but he simply smiled our way. ¡°Paintball and Alloy, the real deal?¡± With a low whistle, he added, ¡°Name¡¯s Rubin Davis. I just wanted to thank you for what you did for my friend last night.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Your friend?¡± I echoed, confused.


    ¡°Santiago Mendoza,¡± he confirmed. ¡°He¡¯s been down on his luck lately and he said some guys from the Easy Eights were harassing him, when you stepped in.¡±


    ¡°O-oh, him.¡± Brightening, I gave a little nod, exchanging glances with Alloy. ¡°It was no big deal, really. Those assholes were just¨Cuh, assholes sums it up.¡± Shrugging, I added, ¡°He¡¯s okay, though?¡±


    The man nodded. ¡°Yeah, my wife convinced him to stay with us for a little bit. He was too proud before. I ahh, I should¡¯ve insisted.¡± With a sigh, he glanced away for a moment, lost in thought before returning his gaze to us. ¡°Oh, sorry. You¡¯d probably like to go inside. I uh, I know this is probably stupid after all that. Especially with Mr. Lucent right there.¡± He gave a cheerful salute that way. ¡°But just to keep things on the level and dot all the t¡¯s and line all the i¡¯s, could you both show me your powers? I gotta write down that I checked.¡±


    We did just that, as I sprayed a bit of blue paint on the ground before letting the man drop his pen on it before catching it with red paint as it flew high into the air and bringing it to the red star I had painted on his chest. Alloy, meanwhile, had her four floating marbles put on a little show for him, switching between several forms while he grinned even more at each transformation.


    ¡°Aight, aight, you¡¯re good.¡± With a voice that made it clear he would have loved it to make us stay longer just to see more demonstrations, the man stepped aside and waved us in. ¡°You all have a good evening, and keep up the good work. Lucent, I¡¯m still holding you to that Yahtzee rematch you promised. I¡¯m ready for you this time.¡±


    From the way Lucent moved on my helmet, I was pretty sure he was giving a wide bird-bow. ¡°I eagerly await such an opportunity to part you from more of your shiny coins, Rubin.¡±


    There was a stairwell just beyond the door, and the three of us descended two flights of stairs before reaching a landing with another open door. There was a familiar figure standing there waiting for us, wearing that golden armor that seemed to glow with an inner power, and metal wings that were currently tucked in close to his back to make room. The helmet he wore covered his face, but I could hear the smile in the man¡¯s voice as he spoke. ¡°Glad you made it.¡± He gave a nod toward Lucent. ¡°Thanks for bringing them inside.¡± That said, he extended a hand toward Alloy. ¡°Good to finally meet you. I¡¯m Hallowed.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± The girl stood there staring at him in what was clearly open-mouthed surprise, a few more incoherent sounds escaping her. It was a reaction that made me do a double-take before realizing the truth. Hallowed was her Silversmith. Err, not her father, her favorite hero. The way that Silversmith had been mine before I found out the horrible truth. She was starstruck right now.


    Quickly clearing my throat, I nudged her with my hip while putting a hand on her back to give her a very slight push. ¡°Yup, this here¡¯s my partner. I¡¯d be in pretty deep caca If it wasn¡¯t for her. I mean, even deeper than I usually am.¡±


    Alloy, by that point, had managed to recover a bit and quickly grabbed the men¡¯s extended hand with both of hers to shake a bit too enthusiastically. ¡°Yeah, hi, hi! I¡¯m puuuuhhherrrfectly capable of introducing myself without screwing it up. Alloy! I¡¯m Alloy. Hi, hiya. You¡¯re uhh, you¡¯re uhh, wow. You¡¯re wow. You¡¯re¡­¡± Then she trailed off and just started giggling a bit awkwardly, all while still pumping the man¡¯s hand up and down with both of hers as though she had forgotten she was even doing that.


    Thankfully, I was pretty sure that the man was accustomed to getting that sort of reaction. He offered a small chuckle before nodding. ¡°It¡¯s quite alright. We¡¯re all doing the same job here. Seems to me you¡¯ve hit the ground running straight out of the gate.¡± Smoothly extracting his hand without making it look like he was yanking away, Hallowed looked to me. ¡°In which case, I hesitate to say whether you¡¯re in excellent company, or terrible. You both seem to feed off each other in ending up in dangerous situations.¡± His tone was still light, but there was clearly a mixture of worry and a bit of recrimination mixed in. ¡°I do hope you are both aware of just how dangerous that particular one was.¡±


    Blanching a little despite myself, I gave a quick nod. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, we totally get it.¡± I didn¡¯t want to jump into the details just what the extenuating circumstances were, nor ask how much he knew about the situation. As the leader of probably the most important defensive Star-Touched team in the city, a team focused on protecting important medical personnel and who had to be deeply involved in the Scions situation given they had just blown up part of a children¡¯s hospital, it wasn¡¯t exactly surprising that he would have been given a full rundown of everything we had told Flea.


    Giving me a look that made it clear he recognized that I hadn¡¯t actually promised to never do that sort of thing again, Hallowed still remained silent on that point. Instead, he gave a short nod of acknowledgement before pivoting. ¡°In any case, you should come along. We have quite the event planned tonight. And if being around a bunch of rich, self-important fogeys isn¡¯t the sort of incredible experience you¡¯ve been waiting for, I don¡¯t think anyone would blame you for heading downstairs to check out the rest of the convention as soon as the first couple speeches are over and dinner gets underway.¡± Glancing my way, he inclined his head with another slight chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s what plenty of others will be doing.¡±


    Speaking up cheerfully, Lucent noted, ¡°I believe Lady Patchwork is already there, in point of fact.¡±


    As Hallowed muttered something under his breath about never being able to keep her trapped in a room full of boring rich people if his life had depended on it, we moved through the corridor beyond that doorway. Honestly, the place looked like a plain old boring office hall. The walls were dully painted and the carpet was cheap, with a few very generic-looking paintings that looked like they had come from a thrift shop or something. Between that and the few very¡­ economical chairs and tables spaced through the hall, I was pretty sure someone had been told to decorate and furnish this entire floor on a budget of about thirty bucks. Probably because this particular area was never supposed to be seen by anyone aside from the people who worked here, rather than the actual guests.


    Either way, we soon moved to the end of that hall and to a plain, unmarked door. Hallowed glanced back to us with his hand on the knob. ¡°You guys better take a deep breath, because this is¡­ ahh, really something.¡± And with that bit of warning, he pushed the door open, stepping partway through to hold it in place before raising his arm for us to proceed.


    Stepping through that door was like going through some sort of magic portal or something. The hallway behind us was as generic and drab as anything could possibly be. But the room on the other side? That was a different story. First of all, it was enormous. Some sort of grand ballroom or something fit to allow hundreds of couples to dance on the gleaming polished wood floor without disturbing hundreds more people who could sit at the circular tables that took up either side and the back of the room. Straight ahead from the dance floor was a stage, including an orchestra pit and a balcony above and to the side of that stage.


    There was a band there, but they weren¡¯t playing at the moment. They appeared to be getting themselves sorted out, preparing for later. Nor were any of the guests dancing or eating. But there were a lot of people standing and sitting throughout the place. It looked like everyone was still in the ¡®just arrived and greeting one another¡¯ phase.


    The door we had come through was in a far corner of the room, clearly not the main entrance. In fact, looking over my shoulder, I could see how the door would blend in with the wall when it was closed. It was meant as a staff entrance or something. No, the actual main entrance was to the right, a pair of stairwells that met at the bottom before winding upward to a landing in front of a set of grand double doors. Looking through those doors from this angle, I could barely make out a wide hallway that looked just as beautiful as this room did. That was where all the actual important people were coming in.


    Hallowed spoke as though reading my mind, following the direction of my gaze. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would quite appreciate that sort of entrance. But by all means, if you would like the star treatment¨C¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s¡­ totally fine.¡± I was already letting my gaze pass over the crowd. They hadn¡¯t noticed us yet, standing in the corner. Another thing I was grateful for. It gave me a moment to catch my bearings and look at the people I would soon need to interact with. And¡­ well, it was about what I figured. A bunch of very rich, very important people. Billionaires, their less-important cousin millionaires, actors and actresses, politicians, singers, rappers, a few important authors or television personalities, and so on and so forth. Not to mention the various Star-Touched spread throughout the room, having conversations with one another or with the rich people themselves.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Alloy finally managed in a small voice. ¡°We are definitely underdressed for this.¡±


    Lucent, however, insisted, ¡°I assure you, my dear, you are perfectly fine the way you are. Though one must endeavor to play nice with those who carry the purse strings, never believe that you are their lesser in any way. You have chosen to use a power you were given to aid those less fortunate. You have every right to stand shoulder to shoulder with every person in this room.¡±


    Hallowed gave a nod and started to say something, only to fall silent as a louder voice spoke up from the stage. ¡°Pardon me.¡±


    My dad. Silversmith. I hadn¡¯t noticed him step up there, but all my attention was on him now. As was the attention of everyone else in the room. He was in costume and everything. Unless that wasn¡¯t him and was just his body double or¡­ or an empty suit or¨CI had no idea. The point was, Silversmith was apparently standing in front of the microphone there.


    ¡°Sorry, folks. We¡¯ll get started with a nice welcoming speech that takes way too long so you¡¯re gnawing your own foot off before dinner finally gets to the table in just a moment.¡± His words made the crowd chuckle appropriately, and Dad (if that was really him) paused to allow that before continuing. ¡°Right now, I just wanted to allow all of you to become the very first to officially meet¨C¡±


    ¡°Hi!¡± A small voice interrupted, drawing everyone¡¯s attention away from my father and up to the balcony overlooking the stage. There was a figure there, one made of¡­ wait, was that¡­ glass? She was entirely made of glass, even her ¡®clothes.¡¯ It was like the clothing part of her was painted while the ¡®skin¡¯ part was plain see-through glass. Her hair was a long, incredibly intricate braid of glass. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say she was about Izzy¡¯s age.


    Once everyone¡¯s attention was on her, the girl jumped off the balcony. There was an assortment of cries, just before she shattered against the stage, sending shards of glass in every direction. It all happened before anyone could even move. Horrified, I started to lunge that way, my hand rising. But Hallowed grabbed my shoulder, his other hand finding Alloy¡¯s.


    In that moment, the scattered shards flew backwards off the floor, reforming into the girl once more, good as new.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Silversmith continued, putting a hand on her head. ¡°As I was saying, I¡¯d like to introduce you all to the queen of dramatic entrances. This is Fragile.


    ¡°The newest member of the Detroit Minority.¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-06

    Well, okay then. Apparently there was a new member of the Minority. A pretty young one from what I could see. As murmurs came up all around the room, I stared a bit more intently at the girl in question. She wasn¡¯t hiding her face or anything, but then again, it probably would have been hard for someone to mistake her for some other girl made of glass. The detail was incredible, even from here. She looked like an ice sculpture that had been carved by the best in the world. Well, if ice sculptures were capable of looking around, her eyes clearly shifting to scan the crowd. Again, the parts that were ¡®skin,¡¯ like her face and exposed hands, were clear, like regular glass or ice. The parts that were supposed to be her clothes were like stained glass. It was a pretty neat effect, especially the fact that she was very clearly alive and moving around. For a brief moment, I found myself caught up in just staring.


    ¡°Another child.¡± The voice was a murmur just above my head, and I belatedly realized that it was Lucent, muttering those two words with what sounded a bit like disappointment. Or possibly dismay. He didn¡¯t elaborate further, however. Instead, he gave my helmet a very slight peck for attention before adding, ¡°If you will pardon me, I have a few people to speak with. Do enjoy the party and I hope to see you soon.¡± Giving a short look toward Hallowed, he launched himself off my head and flew over to another side of the room. His motions got some people¡¯s attention, but when they realized who it was, they just turned back to their business. Well, their business of staring at this new Minority girl who had so dramatically introduced herself.


    After those few seconds had passed, Silversmith raised his hand for attention before speaking up once more. ¡°As always, we are incredibly grateful every time we are blessed with another addition to our young team. One of my greatest honors in this life has always been to see the way the youngest among us can grow and become truly remarkable heroes, protecting the innocent and vulnerable. Having this opportunity to watch their growth, and guide them into the type of stalwart champions this world deserves, is truly one of the most gratifying and humbling aspects of this job. Each and every one of these Minority kids are very special. They put their time and gifts toward helping to protect this city. And they risk far more than they have to.¡±


    He let that hang in the air for a moment before speaking again. ¡°But, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all heard me ramble on long enough. Well, for now anyway. I promise, you¡¯ll be hearing more later. So much it might make some out of you consider withholding the donations you¡¯ve pledged until they give this job to one of the other team leaders we¡¯re fortunate enough to have with us tonight.¡±


    Once the scattered chuckles to that had died down, he continued. ¡°Our new friend here has made it clear, in more than one way, that she would like to introduce herself. So, why don¡¯t I just give her the chance to do that.¡± Stepping aside, he raised one hand as though to gesture for her to go ahead. At the same time, he turned a bit to look out into the crowd, and I followed his gaze before finding my parents. Yes, including my father. They were both sitting at one of the tables near the front, along with Kent and Mills Jackson, Tomas¡¯s parents. Oh, and that Eric Abbot guy I had been introduced to right before I¡¯d gotten the call from Pack to tell me that Eits had been attacked for looking into the name I¡¯d asked him about. He was there too, though he didn¡¯t have anyone else with him. All five were sitting at the table, watching what was going on intently.


    Well, that clearly answered the question of whether my dad was really in the Silversmith armor, at least. Though I still wondered if he was projecting his voice to it somehow, or just having someone else speak for him. It really could¡¯ve gone either way.


    The urge to interrupt them and cause a distraction, just to see if anything happened to the Silversmith on stage, was incredibly strong. But somehow I doubted I could get away with that without causing suspicion. Besides, they had almost certainly already planned for anything that might take my father¡¯s attention off his other self. I¡¯d risk exposing myself for no real benefit.


    By that point, the new girl, Fragile, had stepped up to take center-stage. As she did so, a small tornado of glass emerged from behind the nearby curtain, flying up in front of her before transforming into a podium, and a small set of stairs for her to step up to it. So she wasn¡¯t just made of glass, she could also manipulate it, and turn it into new things. It wasn¡¯t like the glass shards were just vaguely in the shape of a podium. She had literally transformed them into a solid structure.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Alloy murmured beside me, ¡°that¡¯s pretty fucking cool.¡±


    Her words made Hallowed, who had apparently been just as caught up as the rest of us, start a bit. I was pretty sure he had briefly forgotten that we were there in the first place. With a quick glance our way, he whispered something about showing us where to sit, then gestured for us to follow him as he started to move. Alloy and I glanced at one another before following. Meanwhile, Fragile was talking into the microphone, her voice filling the room. ¡°Hi, everybody! It¡¯s so cool to see you guys, and be here! Seriously, you have no idea how awesome this is. I have superpowers, isn¡¯t it neat?!¡± With those words, the glass podium reformed into the shape of a horse that she was perched on top of. ¡°And now I get to make my own pony, so I can stop bugging my dad!¡± That made a few people chuckle, before she shook her head. ¡°But you know what? Horses are kind of lame. Alligators are better.¡± And sure enough, the glass horse transformed into a large alligator underneath her, its head swinging back and forth as its mouth opened and shut repeatedly to reveal large dagger-like teeth.


    The display of her powers made everyone clap a bit. And by then, Hallowed had led Alloy and me through the room. We were seen and recognized by a few people, who gave us whispered greetings, or just waved, to avoid interrupting. We waved back, a bit awkwardly, while keeping up with our guide.


    Soon, we found the table we were being led to. It was on the far side of the room, up closer to the stage but half-hidden by the orchestra pit. I knew it was where we were going because there were a bunch of other Touched already there. Unlike most of the tables, this one wasn¡¯t circular and meant for only a few people. Instead, it was one of the long, rectangular tables, large enough to hold like thirty people. The Minority (or at least everyone aside from Carousel) were seated at the table, as were most of the Conservators and Spartans.


    As we approached, I could see every member of the Minority, especially Raindrop and That-A-Way, staring very intently at the girl onstage. But they weren¡¯t the only ones. The Conservators and Spartans were pretty focused that way too. Something told me this was as much of a surprise for the people here as it had been for everyone else. Which seemed a bit odd to me. Did my dad really just put this girl on the team without telling any of the other Star-Touched in town until just now?


    Not just odd, actually. Suspicious. But¡­ she was just a kid. She couldn¡¯t be working for the Ministry or¨Cfuck, I was really getting paranoid about this. Or maybe I wasn¡¯t paranoid enough. I seriously couldn¡¯t tell.


    When she saw us approach, Izzy whispered something to Amber before nodding subtly toward a couple seats across from them. Amber openly gestured for us to come that way. So, Alloy and I did just that. We took a second to thank Hallowed for the invitation, before moving over there. I took the seat across from Amber, while Alloy sat next to me and across from Izzy. The seats on our opposite sides were both empty for the moment. The way the table was set up, the Minority people (and the rest of us) were at one end, while the Conservators were at the other end on the side the Minority were seated on, and the Spartans were at that end on the other side (the one Alloy and I were seated on). Well, three members of the Spartans were, anyway. Brumal, Skin-Head, and Versed were there, while the large, rock-formed Boulderdash with his big armadillo/turtle-like shell was seated on a special reinforced chair at the very end of the table. He wouldn¡¯t fit sitting in a normal seat like the others.


    Meanwhile, the Conservators who were here consisted of Dynamic, Kriegspiel, RePete, and Bokor. Four members of the Spartans and four of the Conservators were attending this thing. Also Silversmith, of course, who was still standing back on the stage to watch that Fragile girl. Or at least, the person posing as Silversmith was. Or my father¡¯s empty armor with a voice¨Cnever mind. It was complicated.


    Either way, as soon as we sat down, I met Amber¡¯s gaze and gave a little wave. ¡°Looks like you guys have a new teammate, huh?¡±


    It was Syndicate (or at least the one who was physically sitting here) who spoke up from his spot two down from That-A-Way. ¡°I¡¯d say good because we need the help, but she looks a little young.¡± He glanced down the table toward Raindrop before adding, ¡°Uh, no offense.¡±


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    Whamline, seated between him and Amber, reached around the girl beside him to pat Izzy on the back. ¡°If she¡¯s anything like our Raindrop, our team just got a huge upgrade. The kid¡¯ll be saving our butts in no time.¡±


    Wobble, seated on the far side of Syndicate, looked toward Alloy and me. ¡°I think what my teammates are trying to say is hi, glad you could make it. Sorry, I guess we¡¯re just a little surprised by this whole thing.¡± He nodded toward the stage, where Silversmith was just stepping up by Fragile to put a hand on her shoulder and guide her down off the stage. And, as it happened, toward the rest of us. The audience was applauding, while several photographers took a few pictures. The same photographers noticed Alloy and me sitting with the Minority and snapped pictures our way too. Peyton immediately made a noise deep in her throat and turned away as though afraid of being recognized, before clearly remembering that her face was covered. I felt her embarrassment and put a hand on her arm before giving the girl a quick nod, trying to be encouraging. That was probably the right thing to do, wasn¡¯t it?


    By that point, Silversmith and Fragile had reached the table. He kept his hand on her shoulder, looking at the rest of us. ¡°Ah, sorry for the little ambush about all this. It felt like a fun surprise at the time, but in hindsight, maybe we should have let you guys meet in private.¡± With a self-conscious cough (or at least a put-on one), he gestured. ¡°Anyway, everybody, this is Fragile.¡± To the girl herself, he added, ¡°Fragile, meet your new teammates. And the others you¡¯ll be learning from.¡± One by one, he introduced everyone on all three teams by name, while guiding the girl around to sit next to Izzy. ¡°I¡¯ll let you guys all get acquainted. But don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll have plenty of time to get to know each other away from here. For now, just ahh, have a good time.¡± With that, he patted the glass-girl¡¯s shoulder once before stepping away to go back up on stage, where one of the city¡¯s politicians was already starting to give a speech of his own.


    Now I was getting a closer look at her face, and it was even more detailed than I had thought it was before. That really shouldn¡¯t have surprised me, of course. Seriously, her body was literally made out of glass. Why wouldn¡¯t it be detailed? It was her face. Still, it was kind of fascinating to see. Especially when she turned a bit to look straight at me and offered a bright smile. ¡°Hi! You¡¯re Paintball! You¡¯re so cool. I was gonna ask to join your team, but I didn¡¯t know if you were hiring or anything. Is hiring the right word? I dunno, but you¡¯re not really open to new membership, and besides, my dad really wants me to be on the Minority, cuz he says they can keep an eye on me and make sure I don¡¯t get in trouble. He said you have a habit of finding your way into trouble you shouldn¡¯t be in, which is silly cuz I think the trouble really finds you. But I said that and he said that didn¡¯t really change the point that you and trouble are really close and he wants me to be here instead, I mean on the team with¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, she turned to look at Izzy sitting next to her, then leaned over to see the rest of the Minority watching her. ¡°Hi, guys!¡± She gave a happy wave once more. ¡°Sorry, that was probably pretty rude, huh? I didn¡¯t mean I didn¡¯t want to be on a team with you guys. I just meant that¨Cuhh¡­¡± A slight red tint came over her clear glass face as she tried to find the right words.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Amber immediately assured her. ¡°Trust me, we know how cool Paintball is. Maybe with you onboard, you can help us try to recruit him and his new partner over to the team.¡± She offered me a wink while saying it. Of course, Amber had to keep looking as though she was trying to get me to join. It would have been suspicious otherwise. And the last thing we wanted to do was make the Ministry at all suspicious about what she knew.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I replied as casually as possible, ¡°still just a lone wolf over here.¡± At a cough from Peyton, I shifted and amended, ¡°Or a duo wolf. Dual wolves? Actually even that¡¯s not true. We uhh¨Cwe¡¯re a very small pack. A¨Cnever mind. Hey, look at it this way, being separate like this means that we can play back up for you guys. And vice-versa. Trust me, we¡¯re gonna need your help a lot.¡±


    Syndicate focused on me. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s right. Way was saying that you came up with your own new team or something? Even had a name.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± The new voice was Dynamic, speaking up from further down the table. She had turned a bit to face us and was giving a little wave our way. ¡°Hey there. Good to finally get to talk in person. I mean, after all the stuff you¡¯ve been into, I feel like I should be asking for your autograph.¡±


    RePete, seated beside her, raised a hand as well. ¡°Hey, me too. My niece would kill for a Paintball autograph, especially if it was a signed picture. Actually, I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯d kill me for one, which makes me a little jealous, cuz I used to be her favorite.¡±


    Their words had attracted the attention of the rest of the adults down there, and now we had both the Conservators and Spartans looking at us. Which made me want to squirm a bit uncomfortably at all the attention. It was one thing to be out on the street showing off for crowds, in or out of costume. I was accustomed to doing crazy (even stupid) shit for the hell of it. But here, sitting at a table with a bunch of costumed heroes who were all looking at me like I was one of them? That was a lot to take. Beside me, I was pretty sure Peyton was feeling pretty much the same, if not worse. Probably worse. But I pushed the thought aside and embraced my role. Paintball wouldn¡¯t be embarrassed here.


    ¡°I¡¯ll trade you any autographs you want, one for one,¡± I quickly found myself replying. ¡°But believe me, I¡¯m pretty sure yours is worth a lot more than mine. So really, I¡¯m making out like a bandit.¡±


    That prompted a couple soft chuckles, and some actual official introductions were passed back and forth. The adults at the table were all pretty laid back, though Brumal remained a bit standoffish. Or maybe that was just my impression. She didn¡¯t say very much and seemed distracted. But the rest of her teammates who were there made up for it. Skin-Head, Boulderdash, and Versed were all really friendly and quick to make jokes. Boulderdash in particular had a very distinctive roaring laugh that he had to muffle a few times when people from other tables shushed him because people on stage were still talking.


    And that was another thing. There were important people up there. Important as far as the city went. They were giving long speeches about donating money to the Seraphs and their related organizations, basically patting themselves and each other on the back for all the good they were doing. But no one at this table was actually paying any attention to them. We were all talking amongst ourselves (albeit in whispers) and basically ignoring that whole situation over there. It wasn¡¯t what I had expected when we came here, but I wasn¡¯t going to complain either. I would much rather talk to a bunch of Touched than listen to self-important rich blowhards. After all, I¡¯d been doing the latter since¡­ well, basically since I could talk.


    The others all wanted to know what was up with our supposed new name and all that too, so Alloy and I exchanged glances before I put my hand out onto the table. As they watched, I made the name appear there in bold red letters, just like I had on the wall of Wren¡¯s shop. Avant-Guard.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Versed announced while pointing to it. ¡°That¡¯s a cool name. You¡¯re not accepting new members after all, are you?¡± She was clearly teasing, and grunted as Boulderdash nudged her. ¡°What, I didn¡¯t say I wouldn¡¯t take you with me, big guy.¡±


    Snickering despite myself, I held up both hands. ¡°Before any of you get eager about jumping over to this side, I should probably point out that we don¡¯t exactly offer a salary or benefits.¡±


    Versed immediately made a show of grumbling. ¡°Oh, well in that case, I think I¡¯ll stick to this team.¡± She looked around, frowning. ¡°Huh. I was going to tell the boss that he¡¯s lucky, but he¡¯s not here. As usual.¡± The last bit came in a muttered voice that made me blink that way. It sounded as though she was a little annoyed with Silversmith, which¡­ huh.


    It also made me think of something else, and I quickly asked, ¡°How come not everyone¡¯s here? I mean, where¡¯s Carousel? And uhh, Flea and Trivial. Are they around here somewhere?¡± I had noticed that both the Spartans and Conservators had a missing member earlier, and this felt like the best time to bring that up.


    ¡°Flea had some personal business to take care of out of town,¡± Kriegspiel informed me. ¡°She¡¯s on leave for a few days. Not the best timing, but you know. Shit happens when it happens. Ah, sorry, stuff happens when it happens.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the word before, it¡¯s okay,¡± I assured him, before giving a double-take toward Raindrop and Fragile. ¡°Oh. Right. I¡¯m not the only one sitting here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard it too,¡± Izzy put in, her voice dry.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Brumal announced with a short clearing of her throat. ¡°Trivial took a little time off as well, to help out with Flea¡¯s situation. And I¡¯m sure if they need anyone else, they will ask for it.¡± That was said in the direction of Skin-Head, who had started to say something. Clearly, that was a bit of a long-standing argument between the two of them.


    ¡°And Carousel just stayed home tonight,¡± Wobble informed me. ¡°She needed the night off to spend with some friends who came in from out of town or something. So, you know, she¡¯s just chilling out, playing games, while we¡¯re stuck here watching¡­¡± He gestured up to the front. ¡°This.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you,¡± Amber corrected him, ¡°but I haven¡¯t been watching it for about twenty minutes now.¡± She looked down the table toward Fragile before adding, ¡°And that was some entrance.¡±


    Giggling, the girl shifted in her seat. ¡°Yeah? Sorry, I didn¡¯t tell Silversmith about that, or my dad, or¡­ anyone. I just thought it¡¯d be cool to see everyone¡¯s reactions.¡±


    ¡°Well, it was definitely an exciting introduction,¡± Wobble confirmed. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone will forget about it anytime soon.¡±


    And then it was time for yet another rich, important blowhard to talk. Specifically, my father. As the others continued to chatter, I noticed him get up from the table, give my mother a brief kiss, then start up to the stage. My eyes followed him, and I sat up a bit reflexively.


    There was a strong impulse to stand up and shout out questions about how he divided his attention between his regular business pursuits, leading the Conservators, and being the leader of the secret organization that ran all crime in the city. I didn¡¯t do that, of course.


    But boy, was it tempting.

 Equal And Opposite 21-07

    Dad¡¯s speech didn¡¯t go on for very long. Which made sense, he was kind of an expert at reading a room and knowing just how much to talk. This audience consisted of a bunch of people who were all important in their own rights, and were also waiting to eat. If he had gone on too much, he would¡¯ve annoyed them. So, he just propped up their egos a bit with a few words about how special they were and how wonderful it was that they gave so much back to the city. And, of course, a bit about how vital the Seraph¡¯s work was when it came to protecting the hospitals. Soothe the sense of self-importance the rich people in this place had by talking about how the city was only doing as well as it was because of them, and then make it clear (in a subtle, encouraging way) that the Seraphs and other Star-Touched teams were largely responsible for keeping the city safe so the investments these people put into it could pan out.


    He said all that in very few words, while somehow making it sound and look as though he was talking to each person individually. He didn¡¯t call anyone by name, but he met people¡¯s gazes and gave that¡­ that special smile that made it seem like he knew everything about you, like you were both sharing some sort of private moment even though there were plenty of other people around. The room was full of men and women who were accustomed to being the most important people around, yet my father¡¯s speech, short as it was, made them feel it in a totally different way. And he did it while actually being the richest person in the room himself.


    I had seen my father¡¯s speeches before, but never exactly like this. Not from this perspective, and not¡­ not knowing what I knew. It made the whole thing even more impressive somehow. My father wasn¡¯t just obscenely rich, he was also one of the most powerful Touched in the country and ran an organization that controlled all crime in one of that country¡¯s biggest cities. He was, inarguably, the most powerful man in the room. But no one would know that just from listening to the way he spoke just then. He made everyone else seem important without putting anyone down. He built people up, he¨Cyeah. No wonder my dad was such a successful businessman.


    In any case, the point was that he didn¡¯t talk for too long. Soon, there were waiters going around asking what people wanted to eat, while the band started up in the background. A few couples started to dance, but mostly people got ready for food. Especially at this table. Not that we saw very much of each other. As the waiters began to spread out and take people¡¯s orders, privacy screens rose around us. There was the main privacy screen, a square that rose up around the table blocking any of the other people from seeing us, while remaining transparent from our side so that we could see others. Then there were also the individual privacy screens that rose up around each of our spots so we couldn¡¯t see each other and could eat without giving away our identities. They were like the ones back at Caishen¡¯s place, extending back a bit off the table on either side. You could put the screen back down if you wanted to, or combine them so that the people immediately surrounding you who knew your identity already were included. Obviously, I left mine up. Then again, I also didn¡¯t remove the mask entirely. I just slid the front of the helmet up and pulled the mask high enough to uncover my mouth so I could eat.


    Call me paranoid, but I wasn¡¯t going to take that sort of risk around here. Not with my parents and undoubtedly plenty of their minions in the room. And that wasn¡¯t even counting anyone else who might have interest in finding out people¡¯s real identities.


    Beside me, Peyton didn¡¯t totally uncover herself either. She looked around a bit and considered, before simply reshaping the helmet around her face so that her mouth could be seen. Then she leaned closer to me while whispering, ¡°They aren¡¯t gonna serve food with like fifteen different forks and then tar and feather us for not knowing which one goes with the salad, are they?¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry,¡± Dynamic spoke up from where she was sitting, hidden behind her own screen, ¡°we¡¯ve been going to plenty more of these than you and we still don¡¯t know which fork goes with what. But the secret is, they¡¯re all too afraid of us to actually speak up and say anything about it.¡±


    Clearing her throat a bit, Brumal put in, ¡°I believe the more important thing is that they can¡¯t see how you¡¯re eating, so there¡¯s no complaint to make. But either way, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Her voice softened slightly, as I saw just enough of the top of her head to know that she was looking toward Alloy and me. ¡°No one who matters is going to give you a hard time about what utensils you use.¡±


    ¡°And if they try,¡± Amber put in, ¡°just tell them where to shove it.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t tell the financial backers to shove anything into any place,¡± Brumal pleaded, her head turning to give a look toward That-A-Way. ¡°They are not that hard to ignore without causing a scene, believe me.¡±


    By that point, the waitress had arrived at our table (standing far enough back that she wouldn¡¯t be able to see anyone¡¯s face over the screens) and listed what was available. She proceeded to take everyone¡¯s order, and even spent a minute explaining what different foods were past the fancy names for the benefit of the others. And technically mine too, since I wasn¡¯t supposed to know what they were either. I tried to play as clueless as possible, asking easy questions.


    Once everything was ordered and the waitress had stepped away, the conversation turned toward the gang war. It seemed like everyone sitting there had a particular story to tell about something bad that had happened through it. They had saved plenty of people, of course. But there were others who had died or at least been injured, had their property destroyed, and so on. Every Touched sitting at that table had a story about watching someone lose, if not their life, then things that mattered deeply to them.


    Peyton and I glanced toward one another. I had lowered the screen between the two of us, since I still had most of my face covered anyway. Our eyes met, and I could see how troubled she was. It probably reflected back from my own gaze to her. We were both thinking about the Ministry, and how they could stop this war if they really wanted to. And about Pack. Yes, she was right about the fact that she couldn¡¯t do anything to stop the war, but she also helped participate in it. Even if she personally avoided hurting innocent people, how much did her teammates? How much¨Curgh. Between her and Eits, I felt very uncomfortable about the whole situation. Hell, even Broadway. From what I¡¯d seen of the girl, I liked her. That was my biggest problem with this whole situation. So many of the people I would have thought I was adamantly against were more likable than they should have been. It was my problem with my family, with Blackjack and the rest of La Casa, even with Deicide.


    It was all just so complicated. If only they could all be more like Cu¨¦lebre. At least I could be pretty sure that he didn¡¯t have some special backstory that would make me sympathize with him or anything. Although, now that I actually thought that, it would probably turn out that his entire criminal Empire was built up to take care of a hospital full of injured orphan puppies or something.


    Okay, yeah, that wasn¡¯t very likely. But still, I was starting to think that everyone had their own understandable reasons for being involved in bad stuff. Well, except for the Scions. I was pretty sure there was no amount of tragic backstory or mitigating circumstances that could come close to excusing the things they had done.


    By that point, the waitress was coming back with a tray of drinks. As she approached, the privacy shield extended up and over our heads making it totally cover the table so she couldn¡¯t see anyone¡¯s face. Which made me wonder briefly how she would put the drinks down without dropping them, but maybe there was some sort of¡­ thing? Curious, I stood a bit and looked down. Sure enough, the table was visible. The screen specifically only scrambled the appearances of people within it. Looking at the table itself was a bit like looking through an actual window screen. A bit distorted, but still plenty visible. But when I looked over at Peyton, her face (with the helmet still covering most of it anyway) was incredibly blurry and smudged.


    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± A familiar voice spoke up nearby, and my head snapped that way. Immediately, I realized two things. First, this was not the same waitress who had taken our order. The one who would come with the drinks was different. And second, I knew her. Actually, I knew her fairly well, considering I saw her practically every day.


    Christiana Diaz. The thin, young Latina woman who worked as one of Chef Claudio¡¯s assistants. I¡¯d recognize her anywhere, considering one of the things we had in common was our height. She was only an inch taller than my five foot zero. And that wasn¡¯t the end of our similarities. Christiana had the same ¡®look younger than she really was¡¯ thing I did, given she was actually twenty-two but looked more like she was in her late teens. She wore her hair short on the sides with a mop of curls on top.


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    So, I recognized her instantly. A rush of thoughts went through my mind, and it took basically everything I had not to blurt her name in surprise. Boy would that have been hard to explain. But somehow, I managed to shove the reaction down and simply put all my surprise into a gasp before giving a sharp exhale that turned into as much of a laugh as I could manage. ¡°Oh! Damn, sorry. You uhh, you sure you¡¯re not a ninja? You kinda snuck up there.¡±


    There was a very brief pause before Christiana giggled and shook her head. ¡°No, no, sorry. It¡¯s my fault. I keep saying I should put some little bells on this outfit.¡± With a wink, she added, ¡°Can I help you with anything, sir?¡±


    The lower half of my face was exposed. She could see my mouth. Did she know my face well enough to recognize me from not? No, of course not. That was ridiculous. And yet, I almost couldn¡¯t stop myself from reaching up to pull the mask down. That would have been even more suspicious, of course. But it was still almost impossibly tempting.


    Shoving that impulse down as hard as I could, I gave a quick shake of my head. ¡°Nah, nah.  It¡¯s all good. I was just seeing how the¨Cyou know, what the screen¨Cwhat it looked like.¡± I was babbling, and I was saying too much. I needed to stop talking. The more things I said, the more likely she would figure out who I really was. I had to give her as little to work with as possible. So, my mouth snapped shut after saying all that. Then I reached out. ¡°Oh, uh, I¡¯ll take ours.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Christiana nodded, carefully turning the tray and extending it so I could take the glasses meant for Alloy and me. Mumbling a thanks, I sat down and gave my partner her drink.


    Peyton, of course, was staring at me. ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked in a whisper that was barely audible. ¡°You seemed a little¡­ uhh, not.¡±


    Taking a gulp of my drink, I quickly shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just ¡­ different being in a place like this, you know?¡±


    That seemed to do the trick. The other girl achieved a sigh while nodding almost frantically. ¡°Believe me, I know what you mean. It¡¯s so weird being here with all these rich people who wouldn¡¯t even notice if they ran over me in the street.¡±


    Amber made a noise in the back of her throat, and I winced at Peyton¡¯s choice of words. But I couldn¡¯t exactly explain why it was the wrong thing to say. Instead, I simply replied in a low voice, ¡°Some of them would notice.¡±


    That started even more discussion around the table, centered around celebrities and rich people they had worked with, saved, or whatever. It was a mix of horror stories and nice ones, even a couple bits about celebrities who I thought would be real pains in the ass ending up actually sounding pretty cool. Which didn¡¯t exactly prove they were nice to everyone, given who these people were, but still.


    Honestly, once I got past my surprise of being served by Christiana (she also brought our food), and the fact that my parents were on the other side of the room, it was¡­ nice. I was able to just sit there and listen to more experienced Touched tell stories and exchange inside jokes. Sure, I didn¡¯t get all their references, but they tried to explain it as much as they could. And even aside from that, it was just cool to sit and listen to these guys talk about fights they¡¯d been in, people they had saved, villains they fought, it was¡­ it was actually one of the first times I really felt like a part of this community.


    That wasn¡¯t exactly a good thing, of course. I wasn¡¯t a part of their community. I couldn¡¯t be. I couldn¡¯t trust all of them. For all I knew, half the people at this table worked for the Ministry in one way or another, even if they didn¡¯t really know it. No matter how welcoming they seemed, I couldn¡¯t let myself forget that fact. I could talk with them, even work with them, but I couldn¡¯t entirely trust every single one of them. And that meant I couldn¡¯t entirely trust any of the people here aside from Peyton.


    Well, and aside from Amber and Izzy, of course. They were a different story, and I was incredibly lucky that I had them as a connection to the Minority. For a brief moment, I tried to think of how this whole situation would have played out if I didn¡¯t know who those two really were. It wasn¡¯t a very fun thought. Actually, come to think of it, I might have been too paranoid to even come if I didn¡¯t have those two helping.


    In any case, I was silent through most of the rest of the meal, content to simply sit there and listen as the others went on. And from the looks that Peyton gave me once in awhile,  she was enjoying herself too. We both sat there listening to the stories, feeling a bit like we had been given a backstage pass or something. Which was weird, given we were technically, like, one of the bands, to stretch the analogy. But still, it was just different somehow. Sitting here, listening to the far-more-experienced people trade war stories, made the whole thing more real.


    It helped that the food was pretty good. Or, if you listened to Peyton go on, it was completely amazing. She finished off her entire plate, and then a second one when Christiana came by to ask if anyone wanted more. It honestly just tasted like the food we had at home, but then, I supposed that made sense. If Christiana was here, maybe Claudio was too. He had, after all, been the head chef of a five star restaurant before my parents snatched him up.


    As dinner was winding down, we had another speech to sit through, but this one I didn¡¯t mind too much. It was Radiant, standing right up there on stage to talk about how important Detroit and its Touched-Tech factories were to the nation at large, and how proud everyone here should be about how much the city had been turned around in the past couple of decades. It was no secret that Detroit hadn¡¯t been in the best of shape before the whole Touched thing came around, but now we were one of the strongest, most economically sound cities in the country. Not to mention one of the fastest growing, to an absurd degree. The people who had come to the city and invested in that growth had a lot to do with that, and most of them were sitting in this room. Radiant basically told them to give themselves a pat on the back for that.


    At least, that¡¯s how it started. And clearly it was where the rich people in the room expected it to stay. But before long, the woman shifted her focus a bit. She went from talking about these important, wealthy people giving so much to the city to talking about the city itself, and the people in it. And almost before anyone realized the subject had changed at all, suddenly Radiant was talking about how the people in the city were the ones who really changed it. The people here had benefited a lot, and their influx of money helped give the place the jumpstart it needed. But no amount of money-fueled jumpstarts would have accomplished anything if it wasn¡¯t for the people who lived here, the ones out on the street doing the work every day.


    It was kind of amazing to sit there and watch, because it wasn¡¯t that she insulted or demeaned the rich people in the room. No, she propped them up just fine. She gave them their dues. But she also pulled other people up, putting them on an equal level with the millionaires and billionaires (and even the Touched) in this room. She lifted everyone up, noting the importance of each contribution. She wasn¡¯t denouncing the rich people while making some stand for the little guy. She had started by propping up the people in this room, making it that much harder for them to disagree or be offended when she brought the rest of the population up to the same level.


    Leaning a bit closer to Peyton without taking my eyes off the woman on stage, I whispered, ¡°If I was the type of person to be interested in someone older than me, I might be in love.¡±


    ¡°Oh, believe me,¡± she replied in a hushed voice, also without looking away from Radiant, ¡°you¡¯re not the only one.¡±


    With a chuckle, Wobble spoke up. ¡°Sorry, you guys. We¡¯re pretty sure she¡¯s already spoken for.¡±


    Amber was nodding. ¡°We¡¯re not sure by who, but we¡¯ve seen her with a wedding ring. So, you know, you¡¯re kind of late for that train.¡± After a brief pause, she added, ¡°And I don¡¯t think you meet the age requirement.¡±


    After Peyton and I both made a show of snapping our fingers in disappointment, our attention turned back to the woman in question as we listened to the rest of her spiel. She made it clear through all of it that the people in this room needed to keep contributing to the overall benefit of the city if they wanted it to continue to thrive, pointing out the forces that were already trying to drag it down. She talked about how Star-Touched chose to use our powers to help people, and that those with resources like these people possessed had the same responsibility. And yet, it wasn¡¯t like she was shaming them or anything. The way she phrased it made it sound as though she was proud of the opportunity these people had, going on a bit about how they could have everything they wanted while still contributing to raising the standard of living for everyone in the city.


    It was more than a little impressive, made even more so for how relatively short it was. She didn¡¯t talk for very long before simply promising that she would be keeping an eye on things here to see how California could incorporate the incredible ideas that they came up with, and bring some of those ideas¡­. and the people involved, to projects in her own state.


    So there it was, the biggest crux of her speech. She wasn¡¯t just praising these people for the work they could do here, she was essentially saying that she would be keeping an eye on the city and the people she liked would get her recommendation for all-new projects in California. How much money would that be worth? A lot, to say the least. Without actually shaming anyone, Radiant told these people that she expected them to look after the regular population, and that those who did would be rewarded with enormous new contracts.


    As she left the stage and the music picked up, we watched more couples move to the dance floor. Including my parents. I was focused on staring at them while trying not to look like I was staring at them, when Amber reached over to touch my hand through the privacy screen. ¡°Hey,¡± she started, ¡°you wanna go down with us to check out the convention floor? I¡¯ve gotta see if there¡¯s more people dressed up as you or Whamline.


    ¡°And it better be you, or I owe him fifty bucks.¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-08

    Boy was going downstairs a real shift. The difference between the rich people party on the upper floor, and what we walked into down there was like night and day. Alloy and I had followed the Minority people down some private stairway and to a door that was apparently in an unused corner of the room. As soon as that door opened, we were assaulted by a mix of light and sound. The whole place was lit up by hundreds of slightly too bright tube lights hanging from the ceiling of this enormous warehouse-like space. From what I had heard on the way down, there were booths filling almost every square inch of the place, and thousands of people making their way through to see exhibits, buy merchandise, and all the rest of that sort of thing.


    And yet hearing about it was nothing compared to literally hearing it. The place was a madhouse. I felt physically assaulted by the noise as soon as we opened that door. Thousands of people all talking at once, hundreds shouting for attention or trying to sell things, dozens of buzzers, alerts, whistles, chimes, and other noises. To say nothing of the like three different songs I could hear just from the entranceway coming from different areas. Someone was playing a guitar, another person appeared to be repeatedly breaking windows or something, somewhere off in the distance what sounded like a car alarm was going off, and a couple hundred feet to our right, a bunch of people were doing what sounded like incredibly loud tribal chants.


    ¡°Yup,¡± Syndicate noted while slowly looking around from the doorway (having to raise his voice to a near shout even though he was right next to us), ¡°pretty much the same as last year.¡± After a brief pause, he added, in an even louder voice, ¡°Actually, I think they¡¯re a little quieter this year!¡±


    The spot we were in was behind several large booths, blocking people from seeing us. There was a narrow pathway to the left and right leading to areas we could join the crowd and, apparently, blend in. According to the others, there were so many people in costumes here that we wouldn¡¯t stand out at all unless we used our powers. They strongly advised not doing that, unless we really wanted to be mobbed and never be able to move anywhere. Which was a warning that had made Peyton push her remaining floating marbles into a ¡®pocket¡¯ in her armor for the time being.


    Fragile, the brand new glass-form Minority girl, leaned closer to peer out that way. Her voice was tentative. ¡°This¡­ this is quieter?¡± Realizing only a couple of us had heard her, she repeated it a bit louder.


    ¡°Compared to last year, yeah!¡± That-A-Way confirmed with a glance my way. ¡°If we all stick together, we¡¯ll stand out more and people might wonder if we¡¯re not cosplaying!¡± she called over the somehow even louder noise. ¡°We should split up so we don¡¯t attract attention!¡± Her head shook a bit. ¡°Believe me, it might sound fun to have all those people know you¡¯re the real deal, but it¡¯s not!¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound fun at all!¡± Peyton informed her, wincing a little. ¡°I don¡¯t need that kind of attention, thanks.¡± The latter bit was added a bit more quietly, so only I could hear her.


    After a moment of thought, Syndicate decided, ¡°I¡¯ll take a walk with Wham and Wobble. Way, Rain, think you guys can show your friends and the new girl around, uhhh¡­¡± Trailing off, he took a second glance at the glass figure as though only just remembering an important point. ¡°Oh, you uhh, people aren¡¯t gonna know you yet, but they will know that¡¯s not a costume. How did¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Fragile assured him. Extending a hand, she showed us a small circular device, the size and shape of a coin, in her palm. It was red with a blue dot in the center. Once we¡¯d all seen it, she closed her hand around it tightly. A moment later, there was a brief flash of light and suddenly a very different figure was standing there. She looked like an ordinary person with pale skin, long red hair, and green eyes.


    ¡°An Incogniter?¡± Whamline put in, sounding curious. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one like that. They¡¯re usually bigger.¡±


    The ¡®Incogniter¡¯ was apparently really good at its job, because it even showed Fragile blush. I had no idea how it managed something like that. She looked down, kicking the floor lightly before giving a short nod. ¡°Silversmith gave it to me so I could¡­ um, be normal in public.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what you really look like though, is it?¡± Syndicate asked, giving a brief look toward Alloy and me. ¡°I mean, not that everyone here can¡¯t be trusted or anything, but¨C¡±


    ¡°What the boss means,¡± Whamline put in casually, ¡°is that just in case we do get outed and people in here figure out we¡¯re the real deal, it¡¯s probably better if they don¡¯t immediately associate your real appearance with the brand new Minority member, you know?¡±


    Fragile, in turn, quickly shook her head. ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s not the real me. Just a random thing. Um, there¡¯s a random mode and a few set things, like¡­ what I really look like. I mean, what I looked like before. I mean¨C¡± She cut herself off and offered a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s safe.¡±


    ¡°Oh, good to know, I guess.¡± For some reason, Syndicate looked a little uncertain. Well, his body language did. The red hard-shell mask he wore covered all of his face up to just a bit before his hair. Either way, it only lasted for a moment before he shook it off. ¡°Just be careful, okay? I¡¯m pretty sure those things won¡¯t protect you from someone feeling that there¡¯s something different about you if they bump into you too much. People are pretty distracted and all, but still.¡± He offered her a thumbs up. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want you to get knocked down and shatter again. It was cool¨Cuhh, terrifying but also cool upstairs. Down here might be hard to explain. And it¡¯d definitely make the Incogniter earn its keep.¡±


    Fragile promised to be careful before we split up, which led to Amber and Izzy leading Alloy, the new girl, and me to the right and out toward one of the openings between booths. Finally, we could see the actual people instead of just hearing them. And if things had been loud and overwhelming before, actually being out where we could see the crowd was even more so. It was insane. There were lines leading out from every booth, and even more people moving between them, just shuffling along taking a look at everything on display. About half were in some sort of costume, be it an original creation or an established Touched. Actually, come to think of it, I was pretty sure I recognized some of the costumes as Touched from other states, so maybe there were no original costumes. In any case, we wouldn¡¯t stand out.


    Seeing all those people made me shake my head. ¡°Okay seriously, how have I never heard of this?!¡± I called over the sound of the crowd, which was even louder now. ¡°How did I not know it was a thing?!¡±


    Alloy glanced to me. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a big fight club! You know, you don¡¯t talk¨Cnever mind.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t go on the SPHERE forum very much, do you?!¡± Amber called while leaning in a bit for us to hear. ¡°This is sort of their annual fuck you to the people upstairs! See, they know that the rich bigwigs have their meeting on this night, and they¡¯re not allowed up there, so a few years ago a few of them got the bright idea to rent out the rest of the hotel where the conference was happening and throw a really huge party to screw with them. Some sponsors found out what they were doing and sent some tee shirts and toys to buy, and it escalated from there. Now the VIPs upstairs do their business in the upper floor of this convention center and the little people fill up the rest of the space with all this stuff. What started as a thread on the forums to bitch about rich people not letting everyone into their private parties evolved into¡­ this.¡±


    ¡°Giving a bunch of rich people even more money,¡± Peyton noted flatly. ¡°You know a lot of what the mob here are spending goes straight into the pockets of the people they started this whole thing to protest against, right?!¡±


    Amber gave a ¡®what can you do¡¯ shrug. ¡°They still have fun! But that¡¯s probably why you haven¡¯t heard of it. Not talking about it in public is kind of part of the¡­ game or whatever. It¡¯s like an inside joke that you don¡¯t talk about it. They give it a codename on the SPHERE forum, so if you don¡¯t spend a lot of time there you probably don¡¯t recognize it. There was a pinned thread for ¡®fishing trip.¡¯


    ¡°I saw that!¡± Peyton confirmed. ¡°But I uhh, don¡¯t like fishing!¡± She squinted. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s sneaky.¡±


    The currently hologram-covered Fragile spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve read about it a lot! I never got to go though, cuz¡­¡± She trailed off before fidgeting. ¡°Cuz my dad thought it was too dangerous.¡±


    Amber gave a quick nod. ¡°The people can be a little wild, but they¡¯re usually pretty nice. At least they were last year. I¨C¡± She blinked over at us as though doing a quick headcount. ¡°I¡¯m the only one here right now who¡¯s actually been to this thing before. Weird.¡±


    Right, because Syndicate had walked off the other way with Whamline and Wobble. I certainly had never heard of this thing before. Which still struck me as a little odd, considering I would have thought I¡¯d have heard of it at school. But maybe it just wasn¡¯t that big there, or¡­ something. After all, Peyton didn¡¯t know about it either. Huh.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Shaking that off, I looked around at all the people that were here. God, it was so insane. There were dozens and dozens of costumed figures just within my line of sight. They were dressed up like any number of well-established Touched from all over the place. Not to mention the people selling stuff. Straight across from where we were standing, a booth was selling this special silly string that would blow apart into confetti a few seconds after being sprayed, which would subsequently dissolve into nothing. Next to that was a booth where they were selling multi-colored candles that made music as they burned.


    Then, I saw it. Or rather, him. Some guy dressed up like me¨Cerr, like Paintball. He was about six inches taller than me, but other than that it was a pretty good likeness. He had the overall costume just right, and even a matching helmet. He also had a mix of random color splotches and actual designs across it, like a red horse over one shoulder and a purple sword across the chest.


    Yeah, I had thought that I was prepared for something like this, but seeing someone dressed up like me was more surprising than I¡¯d expected. For a second, I just stood there, staring that way. A mix of emotions and thoughts were running through my mind. This was¨Cit was¨Coh. Someone was actually dressed like me, imitating me, making themselves look like¨Cpretending to be¨Coh.


    A hand found its way to my elbow, and I saw Izzy looking at me. I couldn¡¯t read her expression through the mirrored faceplate, but I could tell she was concerned. Her voice was just loud enough for me to hear over the commotion all around us. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    I gave a quick glance toward Fragile, but the hologram-covered girl wasn¡¯t paying any attention to us. She was looking up and down the aisle, expression filled with delight as she kept blurting out for us to see one thing or another. Seriously, it was like seeing a little kid at the circus or something. Everywhere she turned, the girl found something new to gawk at and point toward. Actually, it was kind of adorable, weirdly. Watching her like that, I had the strangest feeling she didn¡¯t get out much. Maybe she was pretty sheltered. Which made her being allowed to join the Minority a bit¡­ odd. But then, she had demonstrated that she could be shattered into pieces and then just reform, so maybe that helped.


    Finally, I gave Izzy a quick nod and a thumbs up. I wasn¡¯t sure how much I meant it, given the rush of emotions that seeing someone dressed up as me was actually instilling, but still. I wasn¡¯t going to let all that confusion bring me down, and I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to let it affect everyone else. Forcing a bit of brightness into my voice, I replied, ¡°Just feels a little weird, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± she replied, looking past me. Her voice sounded a little strained.


    Turning, I saw another person cosplaying. This one was dressed up as her. Except¨Cuhh, well, it was a version of her that was about six years older and much more developed. Seeing that made me do a double-take, eyes widening a bit behind the helmet. ¡°Oh, uhh, wow.¡±


    Making a noise in the back of her throat, Izzy managed a weak, ¡°Uh huh.¡±


    The whole thing was so much to take in. We started walking, keeping together as a group while trying to see everything we could, and it was just¡­ a lot. There were more people dressed up like us, including several in Alloy-like armor, which really threw Peyton for a loop despite hearing about it ahead of time from Lucent. Apparently she hadn¡¯t really believed him, because now she kept rambling about how she¡¯d barely done anything and only just started so why would anyone have a costume of her already and so on and so forth. I could tell she was just as delighted as she was confused, continually looking that way while Amber informed her (with more than a little amusement) that it didn¡¯t take people long to put together costumes when they put their minds to it. Especially when those costumes were either super easy (like mine) or very visually neat (like Alloy).


    ¡°Besides,¡± I put in as we all stood next to a booth selling funnel cakes shaped like various Touched, ¡°like Lucent said, you have multiple sets of armor, so if they don¡¯t like one of your looks, they can always just use a different one.¡±


    Amber was nodding. ¡°Yeah, and think of the merchandising. You could have a whole group of action figures just made up of the different versions of your armor you¡¯ve used.¡±


    Snorting, Peyton waved that off at first. ¡°Yeah, sure, like people would actually make action fig¨Cwhat?¡± She gave a double-take, staring at That-A-Way. ¡°What¡¯re you¨C¡±


    ¡°Come on.¡± Amber nodded for the rest of us to follow before starting to head through the crowd once more. ¡°There¡¯s some more you should see.¡±


    We all exchanged glances, before Izzy reached out to gently catch Fragile by the elbow to get her attention as the other girl had been distractedly watching a guy dressed up as Big Top (a circus-themed Star-Touched from Chicago) juggling while riding a unicycle around in a circle. Once she was with us once more, the four of us headed off after Way.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Someone else dressed up like¨Cwell, me waved as he passed. The guy looked more like a version of me who had been hitting the gym pretty regularly. ¡°Nice one, dude.¡± He gave me a thumbs up. ¡°You almost look perfect. Helmet¡¯s a little off though. The visor part should be wider, and the gloves are all wrong. But hey, super-close.¡±


    Having no idea how to react to that, I belatedly managed a weak, ¡°Uhh, thanks, I tried to go as authentic as possible.¡±


    My taller, athletic male duplicate cheerfully replied, ¡°Solid effort, dude. And hey, you even brought the sidekick.¡± His focus shifted briefly to Alloy with an approving nod. ¡°If you guys get a chance, you should stop by the photo booth over there in like an hour.¡± He waved to the far side of the room. ¡°We¡¯re gonna get everyone dressed up like those two.¡± His hand gestured to encompass Alloy and me. ¡°You know, take a big group photo and blow it up. One of the guys around here thinks he can get the real Paintball and Alloy to sign it. Wouldn¡¯t that be wild?¡±


    Coughing despite myself, I gave a quick nod while thanking the fact that I didn¡¯t have to try to keep a straight face. ¡°Sure does, totally wild. We¡¯ll try to be there.¡±


    As he headed off, I found myself looking at Alloy with a mumbled, ¡°Pretty crazy, huh?¡±


    She, in turn, looked me up and down a bit before dryly retorting, ¡°Do I know you? I mean, you can¡¯t be my partner. Your gloves are wrong and the visor isn¡¯t wide enough.¡±


    ¡°Ha ha, hilarious.¡± Rolling my eyes, I pivoted back to where Amber was waiting. ¡°What¡¯d you wanna show us?¡±


    ¡°This,¡± she replied before extending a hand. I had just enough time to see some sort of oversized glove of her own before a stream of liquid shot at me. No, not liquid. Paint. There was a button on the palm of the glove she had put on, and when she pressed it, blue paint shot out in a stream before hitting my chest.


    ¡°What th¨C¡± Blinking down, I stared at the splotch of blue.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it washes out,¡± Amber informed me, before pulling the glove off. ¡°Right, Andy?¡±


    The man she was talking to was a few inches over six feet tall, though pretty scrawny. He had a long graying-blond beard and a nearly bald head. When Amber addressed him, the man gave a little nod. ¡°That¡¯s right. Don¡¯t even need to scrub very hard, it¡¯ll come right out with no stain. And it¡¯s non-toxic. See?¡± He held up his own hand with one of the gloves on and squirted the stuff right into his own mouth. Which was¡­ sure something.


    Grimacing after that, he admitted, ¡°Doesn¡¯t taste great. But it¡¯s not poisonous. Believe me, that was our big thing if we¡¯re gonna let kids run around with these. It had to be easy to clean up, and it couldn¡¯t hurt them if they swallowed it.¡±


    ¡°Uh, we?¡± I blinked at that, feeling slightly confused and overwhelmed by all this.


    Turning, the man gestured up at a sign hanging over his booth that read ¡®Andy And Patsy¡¯s Toy Box.¡¯ After giving us a chance to read it, he added, ¡°Lots of people in this line of work get a bit uppity when you call them toys, but we know what we¡¯re doing. And we try to aim a bit lower with a lot of our stuff. That¡¯s our rules, everything we put out has to be safe for a kid to play with. I mean, within reason, you know? We¡¯ve got our toddler-line, but for the most part it¡¯s about eight and up. Nice outfit by the way. Looks almost perfect, except¨C¡±


    ¡°I know, visor¡¯s too small and the gloves aren¡¯t right.¡± Getting that out, I extended a hand toward Amber before checking out the glove as she handed it to me. ¡°How¡¯d you put this together?¡±


    ¡°Check just inside the opening, under the little flap there.¡± Andy advised. I did, and found a half dozen slots holding tiny vials with different colored liquid inside. The vials were only about the size of somewhat large pills. As I was looking at them, he explained, ¡°There¡¯s only enough liquid in each of those vials for one spray unless you hook them up to this.¡± He showed us a small water bottle-like device with a clear plastic tube attached. ¡°If you hook this onto your belt and run the tube up under your shirt and through your sleeve, you can attach it to the base of the glove right there, where the vials are hooked in. Then when you push the button on the palm, it¡¯ll pull water up through the tube, color it with whatever vial you¡¯ve got it set to, and shoot for as long as you have water and anything left in the vial to color it. Pretty neat, huh?¡±


    My mouth opened and shut a bit before I gave a slow nod, staring at the glove in my hand. ¡°Really neat.¡± Shaking off the confused feelings, I looked up once more and continued. ¡°Seriously, that¡¯s cool.¡±


    The man beamed with delight. ¡°I just wish I could get hold of the guy himself so I could make these things be certified.¡±


    ¡°Certified?¡± I echoed. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s where the Touched it¡¯s umm, based on or whatever signs off on it, right?¡±


    His head bobbed. ¡°Yeah, see, these things can be bootleg, which means no one¡¯s approved them. Most people won¡¯t buy bootleg, and you can get in trouble. They can be registered, which means the authorities know about it and they¡¯ve passed safety inspections and all that, which means some of the proceeds go toward the Fund.¡±


    The Fund, of course, was money that went toward rebuilding places and people damaged by Touched battles, especially Collision Points. Every country who had a member within Armistice contributed to it through taxes (especially those on Touched merchandise) among other things.


    Andy was still talking. ¡°And those who get the actual Touched in person to approve it have the stuff certified.¡±


    ¡°Which means that Touched gets a percentage of the proceeds too,¡± Amber informed us. ¡°Usually like fifteen percent, same as the Fund gets. We Minority people have ten percent go to our college fund and get to keep five as part of our salary.¡±


    Andy started to nod, before giving a double-take. ¡°Wait, we Minority people? Hang on¨Care you¨Cwait¨C¡± He was starting to realize.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty loud in here,¡± I put in. ¡°Why don¡¯t we take a little walk, Andy? I¡¯ve got a friend who¡¯s really into building some neat stuff.


    ¡°And I¡¯m pretty sure she would love to get some advice from you on how to sell it.¡±

 Non-Canon 15 - Simon Finds Out

    The sound of heavy, rushing footsteps filled the night air as Simon Evans all-but charged down the cement steps leading to where his Mercedes was parked with the roof down. One of his friends, a Korean-American guy named Kevin Bu, was waiting for him in the passenger seat. As he approached, Kevin grinned. ¡°Hey, dude! Did you get that stupid Luciano fuck sorted out and on his way? I hope so, cuz I¡¯m starving. What do you say we hit the--¡±


    ¡°Out,¡± Simon ordered, yanking his door open before getting in. Thanks to the key in his pocket, the car started on its own as soon as he was behind the wheel, humming faintly with electric power. There was a way to disable that, but Simon preferred it this way. It was cool. Normally, he took a moment to revel in that sort of thing, even after all this time. But now he was too distracted to care. His hand pointed out of the car. ¡°I gotta be alone, dude. Can¡¯t deal with any of this right now.¡±


    ¡°The fuck?¡± Kevin stared at him. ¡°Come on, man, I just worked like six hours doing shit for your mom and I¡¯ve got a test in the morning. I can¡¯t walk home, we¡¯re in the middle of nowhere.¡±


    Simon gave him a look. ¡°My parents pay you two grand a week, plus take care of your apartment and your college tuition. Pretty sure you can afford to pay for a taxi.¡± Even as the words left him, he sighed and gave a quick shake of his head. ¡°Sorry, fuck, it¡¯s not your fault. Here.¡± From his pocket, he produced several one hundred dollar bills. ¡°Take whatever sort of ride you want. Hell, call a limo and cruise for awhile. And get food on me. I just-- I¡¯ve gotta be alone for awhile.¡±


    For a moment, the other boy simply stared at him, clearly wondering if he should ask more. But in the end, he took the offered cash and stepped out of the Mercedes. ¡°Yeah, okay, I get it. But uhh, you know, if there''s anything you need to talk about or whatever--¡±


    ¡°Not now,¡± Simon assured him. ¡°Just gotta chill for awhile. I uhh, I¡¯ll talk to you tomorrow.¡± Without another word, he shifted the car into drive and hit the gas to send it screaming out of the lot. He was up near fifty miles per hour before he even hit the exit, and a glance at the dashboard for the advanced sensors showed that there were no cars or pedestrians on the street beyond. Nor were there any police within several blocks, and Star-Touched patrols weren¡¯t anywhere near his spot at the moment.


    Well, none that the Ministry actually had control of.


    It was that last thought that made the boy push the gas even harder, raising the car to a good sixty miles per hour as he hit the exit. The slight incline there made the vehicle launch itself into the air several feet before coming down on the street beyond as Simon spun the wheel to send it into a left turn. He narrowly kept it on the road, grimacing before his fist smacked the wheel a couple times in frustration. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck!¡±


    His anger had nothing to do with the car, the street, the near-wreck, or anything like that. Those things barely even registered. His focus was entirely centered on what had happened twenty minutes earlier, when he''d been face to face with that independent Star-Touched, Paintball. The boy who had clearly seen too much that night back at the motel. The boy whom Simon¡¯s parents had decided to leave alone so long as he didn¡¯t make too much trouble for the Ministry. The boy who had been making a name for himself so much lately, and who had been there that night trying to stop Luciano from getting away. The boy whom Simon¡¯s parents were still convinced they could shift over to their way of thinking with enough patience.


    The boy who wasn''t a boy at all.


    Checking his dashboard once more to see where the nearest cops were, Simon took a left turn to avoid them, accelerating up to a good ninety miles per hour or so. A quick shift into the (currently empty) oncoming traffic lane gave him just enough room to pass right by several other cars that would have been in his way, before pulling back onto the right side just in time to avoid a truck that was turning onto that road. Ignoring the red light, he shot straight through, threading the needle between two cars that were trying to cross. Their horns filled the air, but Simon still wasn''t paying attention. Well, he knew they were there. He was too well-trained and such not to be totally aware of his surroundings. But he certainly wasn''t paying them any care.


    Even now, in his mind¡¯s eye, he could see it. He and Paintball had been struggling. The kid may have been younger than Simon (though not nearly as young as he was supposed to be), but that paint made him a hell of a lot stronger. Still, Simon had managed to get him in what amounted to a headlock, intending to throw him to the ground. But in that moment, the back of ¡®his¡¯ jumpsuit had gone down and the mask/helmet combination had ridden up just enough for Simon to see part of his neck. A part which revealed a small, almost imperceptible star-shaped scar on the bare skin. A scar that was almost invisible unless you were right up close to it, and which very few people would have recognized.


    But Simon was one of those very few people. He knew what that scar was, because he had accidentally given it years earlier when he was still a young teenager, wrestling in the kitchen with¡­ with his sister. She¡¯d jumped on his back and he jerked backwards, sending her falling against a piece of the counter. It was--it had¡­ been a big deal. He¡¯d apologized over and over, and the two of them had been found by one of the maids, who helped take care of it. She assured them that it wasn¡¯t enough to go to the hospital over, and bandaged it herself. So their parents never found out about it.


    Cassidy. There was no question about it, none. Simon had spent far too much time looking at that scar while his sister was asleep. It had been years since he¡¯d done so, but still. He looked at it to remind himself to always be aware of what was around him and how he was throwing people around, what they could possibly hit. He knew that scar better than he knew the back of his own hand.


    Paintball wasn¡¯t a twelve-year-old boy. He wasn¡¯t some stranger. He wasn¡¯t a nobody. He wasn¡¯t a he at all. He--She was Cassidy. Simon¡¯s sister. All this time, after everything that had happened, and all that the so-called ¡®kid¡¯ had gotten involved with, it was Cassidy. It had always been Cassidy. She was the one who had--she was--fuck.


    Did she know? Did she know who she was working against? She had to, right? That was the only reason it made sense for her to keep all of that secret. If she didn''t know, she would have gone to their family immediately to show off her powers. That was just who she was. Hell, she would have gone to them for help dealing with¡­ with what she had seen that night at the motel.


    Fuck! She had to be so confused. What she¡¯d seen, back at the motel, what she thought she had seen, the¡­ she didn¡¯t have the context, the information that--she didn¡¯t know the full situation. No wonder she¡¯d--and then she had probably been somewhere in that alley when Simon had--oh God damn it!


    It was his fault. She had been there, she had to have been. She was in that alley when he had¡­ fuck. That was why she never came to them about getting powers and all that. It was why this whole situation had developed. She had heard him in that alley, and then probably found out more when she went out the next night and found him and¡­ and oh fuck, Dad had been there. Not immediately, but he did show up as Silversmith and unmask himself. If Cassidy had actually been anywhere nearby at that point¡­ fuck. Fuck, fuck!


    It all made entirely too much sense now. Simon knew exactly why things had developed the way they had, why Paintball had stayed away from any of the teams in town, why--why all of it had happened. His stomach rolled as he replayed events over the past couple of months in his head. So many questions were suddenly answered, and yet with each one the boy realized yet another way that this situation had spiraled out of control. It was so much to take in, he felt like his head was going to explode.


    What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to say? He was certain that Cassidy had known exactly who he was throughout all that. Some of the ways that Paintball had reacted to things made more sense that way. His mother kept Cassidy out of the illusion-casting just in case she happened to see them under its effects around the house. And, of course, because she was never supposed to be anywhere near where the Ministry conducted business. She had seen and recognized him all this time. Everything that happened--all the--fuck!


    Yes, he just kept coming back to cursing. What else could he do? Every time he thought he had absorbed the full weight of the situation, another thought sprang to mind and made it even worse. He was so lost in his thoughts at the moment that the boy didn''t even really know where he was going. He was simply driving as fast as possible, as though if he pushed the car hard enough, he could outrun the entire fucked-up thing. Which was impossible, of course. He had to do something. He had to make a decision about how to react to all this. And yet, he had no idea what that could be. Even as his hands grip the wheel even more tightly, knuckles turning white,  the twenty-year-old made a sound deep in his throat. It wasn¡¯t quite a growl, or a scream. It was somewhere in between those.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    He wasn¡¯t angry. Well, he was. He was angry a lot, yet this was something more than that. He was reeling from this entire situation. He had no idea how to react, what to do, or even what to think. He didn''t want to think. Not about this whole thing. He just wanted to turn off his brain and throw himself into the mindlessness of driving. The car was something he could control. He could lose himself in this and forget¡­ well, all of that. At least for a little while.


    So, that was exactly what he did. For the next hour or so, Simon simply drove and let his mind wander. He didn''t think too much about the actual situation, pushing his thoughts away from it whenever they started to creep that way. Instead, he thought about various moments with his sister as they had grown up. She was four years younger than he was, and his earliest memories that involved her was when he was seven and she was three. He had been heading out to the car to be driven to school, sometime during the first grade. It wasn''t his first day or anything, but for some reason, the three-year-old Cassidy had demanded to come along. Not just in the car, she had wanted to go into school with him, insisting that she could learn anything he did. He had said something dismissive and insulting about her smelling like dead frogs, and she had kicked him in the shin before hitting him in the face with his own lunchbox.


    They had fallen to the pavement, wrestling, when they were interrupted by¡­ by Robert Parson. The large man had picked both Simon and his sister up, one in each hand, and held them away from each other. He made them stop swinging and then set them down, before calmly reminding the two that they had to depend on each other. He¡¯d told Cassidy to go ahead and get in the car, that they would take her brother to school and then go to get ice cream. Then, once she was mollified and had gotten in, he focused on Simon. He told the boy that Cassidy looked up to him, that she only wanted to go to school so she could be like him. He made Simon promise to take it easy on her and, no matter how much they argued and fought, to always remember that she was his sister.


    Eventually, he had taken Simon¡¯s hand and made him promise to look out for her if she ever got in real trouble. He told the boy that he could be as angry as he wanted to be, but when it came down to it, Cassidy was his sister and that meant something. No matter what happened or how mad they got at each other, he would always be her big brother.


    Simon had been far too young to really think too much about it at the time, of course. And Robert had used smaller words. He wasn¡¯t quite that dramatic about the whole thing, to the point that Simon hadn¡¯t even really understood the weight of what he was saying until he was older, looking back at it. He just made sure the boy understood that his sister depended on and looked up to him, even if she didn¡¯t admit it.


    A quick shake of his head in the present-day scattered the mental image of Robert back then, like throwing a rock into a puddle to break a reflection. Now, he wasn''t even in the city anymore. Simon had driven all the way out to the freeway, and was heading west. He still had no particular destination in mind, yet accelerated even more. He just wanted to go. He wanted to put all of this behind him. He wanted to ignore the whole thing and just¡­ drive.


    And yet, he couldn''t force his thoughts away from his sister for long. Within a few more miles of driving down that freeway, Simon found himself thinking about the past once more. Not about the first grade this time, but somewhat more recently. Specifically, five years ago. He had been fifteen years old, two years into taking martial arts and weapons handling courses. He hadn''t known at first exactly why his parents wanted him to take those classes, only that they insisted he learn to take care of himself. Not that he had objected. Learning how to fight, use knives and swords, and even how to handle guns from as early as thirteen had been amazing. He hadn''t even really paid that much mind when his parents told him to keep his extra classes a secret from Cassidy, saying that they didn''t want her to be too jealous about the whole thing. Not wanting to risk his mother withdrawing her permission for the classes, he had kept it a secret, suppressing the urge to brag about all of it to his sister.


    That had been going on for two years by the time he was fifteen. Two years of those classes by the time he finally found out the truth about what their parents did and why they wanted him to know how to fight. By the time¡­ by the time everything changed, when Simon and Cassidy¡¯s grandfather, their mother¡¯s father, had made his move. It was in the wake of that attack, when Cassidy¡¯s friend had been murdered along with the rest of his family and household staff, that Simon had finally been sat down and told exactly what their family did and how they had gotten into the business.


    He remembered that as though it was yesterday, sitting in the kitchen with his father, being told everything. His dad had still been in his Silversmith costume, itself a massive shock. Meanwhile, eleven-year-old Cassidy had been up in her room, being held by their mother and rocked back and forth.


    For over an hour, their father had talked to Simon, telling him the whole truth. Not only about their family¡¯s business, but about what had happened that night. He wanted Simon to tell him if he ever had any contact with his grandfather, especially over the past couple of weeks. So, he told the boy everything. And when his mother had joined them after Cassidy had fallen asleep, she had talked some more about the way she had grown up. Her father, Simon¡¯s grandfather, was a real-life Mafia boss. She was a Mafia princess. And then she and Simon¡¯s father had taken over the business and converted it to what it was now. They made it into the Ministry.


    From there, Simon¡¯s training had only accelerated, and he had rapidly become an integral part of the organization. His friends, those who could be trusted, had been brought into things as well, while those who could not had been¡­ phased out. That wasn''t his parents'' call. They had not forced anything of the sort. It was Simon. Knowing what his family did, what they were, made him realize that he had to be selective. He moved away from people he couldn¡¯t trust, and surrounded himself with friends who were in on the whole thing. There were multiple tests just to make certain of that, and the ones who failed had their memories erased by Kent Jackson.


    And yet, it was one other moment with Robert Parson that Simon kept going back to as he drove along the freeway. Shortly after that whole¡­ horrific night, fifteen-year-old Simon had been using their house¡¯s indoor basketball court, taking foul shot after foul shot, when Robert had come to see him. He told Simon that he was going to be leaving for good, asking to sit with him for a few minutes. They had moved to the bleachers, and Simon sat down, listening as Robert talked to him about Cassidy. He told the boy that he couldn¡¯t be around anymore, and that she was going to need someone to look after her. She was going to need her brother. Especially now that their parents had decided to erase her memories of that day, a choice Robert disagreed with.


    Over the past five years, Simon had gradually let that moment slip away a bit, especially as Cassidy had gotten older and it was clear that she had totally forgotten what happened. Well, to an extent. Though their parents didn''t really seem to notice, perhaps because they didn''t want to, Simon had seen the way Cassidy kept all the people from school at arm''s length. She didn''t really keep any close friends, not the way she''d been with Anthony. She might not actively remember what happened, but subconsciously she was certainly trying to avoid losing someone else she cared about as much as she had that boy. Sure, she was friendly enough. She had school friends, but nobody but she really confided in and totally opened up to.


    Still, even though he had acknowledged that, the intervening years bled into one another, and Simon had eventually stopped thinking too much about what Robert had said about taking care of his sister. And yet, that moment was right back in his head now, as he drove mindlessly along the freeway. He was a good forty miles outside of town, and still driving further with no idea where he was actually going.


    The car had three-quarters of a charge, so it could have gone on for another eight hundred miles without needing a boost. Simon might have gone the entire distance, given the mood he was in. But it was at that moment that his phone rang, the car¡¯s computer announcing it as his father.


    Letting it ring several times as his mind raced, Simon finally told the computer to answer. He spoke immediately. ¡°It¡¯s done. The guy¡¯s on the bus and Troy¡¯s taking care of him. They¡¯ll go underground until it¡¯s safe to move him. I took his last payment before sending him through.¡±


    There was a brief pause before his father replied, ¡°I hear there was a bit of a run-in with Paintball. Are you okay?¡±


    Was he okay? Simon glanced into the rearview mirror, watching his own reflection briefly before turning his eyes back to the road as he replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. I handled it. That guy¡¯s a real piece of shit, but I still handled it.¡±


    ¡°And Paintball?¡± his father prompted. ¡°I heard he had someone else with him tonight. Not the sidekick, some new girl. Probably a Prev, from what they were saying. Is there anything with that situation we need to worry about?¡±


    For a few seconds, Simon didn¡¯t respond, until his father said his name. Then he started a bit. ¡°Sorry, some asshole cut me off. Uh, what?¡±


    ¡°I said,¡± his father repeated, ¡°is there anything with the Paintball situation that we need to worry about right now?¡±


    Hands tight on the wheel, Simon stared straight ahead, though his mind was far away. He thought of that moment in first grade by the car, when Cassidy had hit him with his own lunchbox because he wouldn¡¯t let her go with him to school. And the moment sitting in the kitchen five years ago when his parents told him the truth about their business. And when he had sat in the bleachers at the household basketball court as Robert talked to him one last time before leaving. All of that passed through his mind in those brief couple of seconds before he spoke. ¡°No. We don¡¯t need to worry about Paintball.


    ¡°He¡¯s just some little boy playing hero.¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-09

    So, that Andy guy and I stepped away to a small hallway just outside the main room. It led to some offices or something, and while we could still hear people going nuts through the closed door, it was at least quiet enough that we could talk without shouting to make ourselves heard. For a few minutes, I talked to him about having a Tech-Touched friend who was looking to get into selling stuff and how we wanted to make sure she wasn¡¯t giving away her location that easily. He made it clear that he had a pipeline of people who could move the stuff and sell it if it was any good, including himself. So, I told him I¡¯d talk to Trevithick and set up a meeting if she wanted to, or just continue to be the go-between if she didn¡¯t. He seemed pretty stoked about either option, to be honest. Especially when I asked for his phone number and an address where I could maybe find him later. He fumbled a bit, but eventually gave me a card with a business office listed on it, quickly letting me know that he shared it with a couple other people but all I had to do was ask for him and someone would track him down. Or call the number on the back, day or night. He stressed that part, making it clear I could call him any time I wanted.


    After promising that I would be in touch, and that he should be ready to move product as soon as Trevithick had something done, I made my way back out onto the main floor while stowing the card he had given me. Alloy was waiting by the door, apparently preferring to let me handle that part while she simply watched more of the convention. Which was fair, given how much there was to see.


    When I emerged, she glanced my way and tilted her head curiously. ¡°So how¡¯d it go, Mr. Businessman? Are we gonna be rich and powerful?¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got the powerful part down already,¡± I pointed out. ¡°As for rich, let¡¯s hope for successful to start out. Gotta build contacts, make it clear we can deliver what we promise, that sort of thing. Being Touched will help somewhat, but if you screw up early on or overhype it, people¡¯ll just end up turning on you as fast as they turned to you. Better if we build a solid ground network and improve it from there. This guy¡¯s got his own contacts, if we can get some stuff into his hands and let him sell it, we¡¯ll have a better chance at laying a foundation that¨Cwhat?¡± I blinked that way, realizing she had been staring at me intently for most of that.


    Quickly, Alloy shook her head. ¡°Uh, nothing. I mean, you¡¯re just really into this stuff. You know a lot about it for a¨Cyou know, middle schooler. No offense. Err, I guess that would be more offensive to everyone else. You just¨Cnever mind.¡±


    Blushing a little bit despite myself, and glad that I had the helmet to cover it, I shrugged helplessly. ¡°It¡¯s really not a big deal. I just read a few paragraphs out of a book in the library. You know, after we talked about doing something like this with Trev the other day.¡± What else was I supposed to say, that I had heard my father talking about business stuff and what sort of problems startups ran into since I was a little kid sitting on his knee? And then I¡¯d just follow up by telling her exactly who my father was. That would sure go over well.


    Okay, I thought that sarcastically in my head, but really, I did need to tell her the truth at some point. Just not right at the moment. There was way too much to deal with as it was. I wasn¡¯t ready to get into that whole thing, even if it would help the whole feeling of awkwardness around her thinking I was a kid.


    Yes, yes, there were several good reasons to tell her everything. Another large one being that she deserved to know if we were going to work together. Soon, I told myself. It would have to be soon. Even if I couldn¡¯t make myself get into it right now, it would come up eventually. It had to. And better that it be on my own terms. Just¡­ yeah.


    Shaking all that off, I gestured for her to come with me. ¡°Where¡¯d the other three go?¡±


    Stepping up beside me, she raised a hand to point. ¡°That Fragile girl¨C boy that¡¯s a weird way to phrase it¨Cshe wanted to check out something called a dimensional-phase room. Which, for the record, sounds completely amazing, and we are so going over there. You¡¯re lucky I lost the paper rock scissors game for who had to stay and wait for you.¡±


    I pointedly adopted an exaggerated huffy voice. ¡°And here I thought you were just being a loyal partner.¡±


    ¡°Partner shmartner,¡± she shot back, ¡°did you hear what I said about dimensional-phase room? Sorry, but if it comes down to a choice between you and one of those, you¡¯re gonna lose.¡± She seemed to consider those words briefly before amending, ¡°I mean, unless it¡¯s a villainous dimensional-phase room. Then¡­ well, how villainous are we talking, on a scale from say, rob an ATM to murdering innocent children¡­ a four and under, you¡¯d probably lose out too.¡±


    Before I could even start to try to respond to that, someone dressed like Boulderdash began to approach us. It was a pretty good costume too, with clear effort put into small foam rocks over most of the body, and a big shell over the back that was probably fiberglass or something. For the head, they had a black and gray ski mask to match the rest of the body, with painted goggles to mimic his large eyes. They were a little bit short for the real thing, but still.


    The Boulderdash person slipped through the crowd, walking up before stopping right there in front of us. Their voice was muffled. ¡°Here to see all your adoring fans, huh?¡±


    Confused, I exchanged a glance with Alloy before turning back that way. ¡°Uhh, do we¨C¡±


    Before I could say anything else, ¡®Boulderdash¡¯ reached up to the shell on their back, opening a little slot on it so I could see a familiar face peering out at me. A familiar lizard face. It was Mars Bar. I swore he smiled as soon as he saw me, giving me an iguana grin.


    ¡°Wha¨C¡± Giving a quick double-take at that, I snapped my attention back to the figure herself while demanding, ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±


    In a voice that was still muffled yet suddenly recognizable, Pack teased, ¡°Well, I had to wear a costume that allowed me to get my little buddies in. You really think I¡¯m going to come here and not let them see all this cool stuff? They¡¯d never forgive me.¡±


    Giving the girl a look, I retorted, ¡°Believe it or not, it¡¯s not the lizards¡¯ presence here I¡¯m concerned about. I mean, okay it is, but they¡¯re only here because you are so why are you¨Cwhat¡¯s¨Care you guys¨C¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s freaking out, isn¡¯t he?¡± That particular question came from Lucent. Or rather, a giant version of him, a person in a raven costume, who stepped over to join us. ¡°I told you he¡¯d freak out.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re one of her lizards that she¡¯s somehow given full speech capability to, I swear to God,¡± I managed, shooting a look back and forth between them before the voice struck me. ¡°Wait, Broadway?!¡± I hissed that name, of course, not that it was strictly necessary. It wasn¡¯t like anyone was eavesdropping. Actually, I was pretty sure I could have screamed, ¡®Two real life members of La Casa are right here¡¯ and no one would¡¯ve heard me or paid attention. Not with how nuts and loud everything was around us.


    ¡°Aww, he recognized me!¡± Broadway was clearly beaming under her costume, shooting a look toward her criminal teammate. ¡°Wait, did he get me faster than he got you? Does that mean he likes me more?¡±


    ¡°Dude.¡± It was Alloy¡¯s turn to hiss at me. ¡°How many members of La Casa are you friends with?¡±


    Once again, I was glad that my costume choices left my flushed face undetectable. Yes, that was clearly the biggest benefit, rather than stopping anyone from knowing who I was in the first place. With that filling my mind, I coughed. ¡°We¡¯re not exactly¨CI mean¨C that is¡­¡± Okay, I gave up on that, turning to face the other two. ¡°Wait, are we about to have a problem?¡± I said that while trying very hard not to pointedly look at the several cameras around the room. I had no doubt that there was some advanced security in here including audio. Not that they would necessarily just happen to be paying attention to us, but still.


    Pack, however, shook her head as she interpreted my meaning. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ve got it under control. Some of their surveillance equipment is just having a little bit of a hiccup now and then. Nothing too dramatic, just enough to make sure they can¡¯t hear us. Or a few other places, just so it¡¯s harder to narrow down where it¡¯s coming from.¡±


    ¡°Their surveillance is having issues and they¡¯re not like, evacuating the building?¡± Alloy questioned. She too seemed to barely resist the urge to literally look at the cameras.


    ¡°Like she said,¡± Broadway put in, ¡°it¡¯s just audio. And maybe a bit with not allowing them to zoom in, blurring a few cameras here and there, that sort of thing. They¡¯re not gonna evacuate the building for that. Especially when they can stand right there and see that nothing¡¯s going wrong. Besides, with all the amateur Touched-Tech all over the place in here, they¡¯ve gotta expect it.¡±


    ¡°On that note,¡± I questioned, ¡°What¡¯re you guys doing here?¡±


    ¡°He keeps asking me that,¡± Pack informed Broadway in a clearly put-on confused tone. ¡°It¡¯s like he thinks we¡¯re not supposed to want to go to places and have fun or something.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Okay, I think my question is, are you here to have fun or here to have fun?¡± I managed with a somewhat weak voice. ¡°I mean, you did just point out that there¡¯s lots of¡­ toys around here.¡±


    ¡°Pshh, now he thinks we¡¯re here to rob the place.¡± Pack was clearly rolling her eyes. ¡°Honestly, if we were, we wouldn¡¯t announce ourselves to a couple Boy Scouts. I mean¨C¡± She looked toward Alloy and gestured. ¡°Not Boy¨Cyou know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°They let girls in now anyway,¡± Alloy informed her with a shrug. ¡°And what are you doing here if you¡¯re not being nefarious? Which, for the record, is a very fun word.¡±


    ¡°Having fun, without the nefarious part,¡± Broadway replied a bit primly. ¡°And yeah, totally a fun word. But seriously, dude, look around. We¡¯re not like, supervillains twenty-four/seven/fifty-two. We have time off.¡± With that, she gestured around us. ¡°This place is sweet. We came in to have fun. Sweet, innocent, totally legal fun.¡±


    ¡°Sweet, innocent, totally legal fun that requires you to use security jamming tech?¡± I pointed out.


    Broadway, in turn, giggled. ¡°We¡¯re not using it all the time. We just have it in case things go wrong and we need to skedaddle, you know? And in this case, to come over and say hi without being eavesdropped on. And without you guys getting in trouble for not immediately starting in on the whole ¡®halt evil-doers¡¯ business. So slow your roll. Or, you know, whatever the right term would be.¡± That last part came in a distracted tone as her head (still covered in the raven mask) turned to follow a large man dressed up as The Hyperborean, a seven-foot-tall muscular guy made of ice who wore bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and sunglasses. This guy didn¡¯t quite match the real Hyperborean in height or muscle, but it was pretty close. And the costume he wore over himself resembled ice pretty well.


    ¡°See, now she¡¯s distracted.¡± Shaking her head, Pack nudged her partner. ¡°Like she said, we¡¯re here to have fun, not cause trouble. Scout¡¯s honor. And as your partner there said, we can actually join them now, so it¡¯s all kosher. I mean, I¡¯m not Jewish either, but you get the point.¡±


    Before I could find my voice to respond to that, That-A-Way approached with Raindrop and Fragile, the three of them holding several light green balls. The (currently) blonde girl was already speaking. ¡°Okay, so they let us take a couple extra¨Cuh?¡± She had just noticed the other two.


    Clearing my throat, I nudged Peyton and slipped a twenty dollar bill in her hand. ¡°Hey, there¡¯s souvenir hats over there, why don¡¯t you take our new friend to get one?¡±


    ¡°Super-subtle, I don¡¯t suspect anything weird at all,¡± Fragile announced, giving me a thumbs-up before pivoting on her heel to walk that way with Alloy.


    ¡°Aww, man, that¡¯s a great costume,¡± Pack abruptly announced, giving Way a pointed look. ¡°You look just like the real Way, only even more attractive and smart.¡±


    ¡°Uhh,¡± Way managed to repeat her previous noise.


    Broadway, in that raven costume, was looking after the departing Fragile as she noted, ¡°Hey if she¡¯s hanging out with you, she must be that new chick, right? That was a nice entrance she had up there. Should¡¯ve seen the look on those rich fucks¡¯ faces. It was a hoot.¡±


    ¡°Uhhhhhhhh!¡± Way¡¯s gaze snapped to me, her eyes wide.


    ¡°God damn it,¡± I muttered before waving my hands back and forth. My voice was as low as it could be while still being audible to them. ¡°It¡¯s Pack and Broadway.¡±


    Even as I finished saying that, Pack was opening up the little slot in her costume shell. That time, it was Tuesday the Gecko who was looking out at us, joined quickly by Scatters the Neon Day Gecko. Both of them seemed to brighten when they saw Way, who had turned that wide-eyed stare at them.


    ¡°You¨Cwhat¨Chow¨Cwhy¨C¡± Her brain was clearly stuck, as she couldn¡¯t put a full sentence together and had resorted to simply pointing.


    ¡°They¡¯re not here to cause trouble,¡± I finally put in while shaking my head. ¡°I mean, obviously they¡¯re here to cause us some mental trouble, and having a lot of fun with it, but other than that¡­¡±


    Looking back and forth between them as she processed all of that, Amber opened and shut her mouth a couple times before focusing on Pack. ¡°Can I talk to you for a minute?¡± She hissed those words while her eyes darted toward Broadway a couple times.


    The other girl agreed, and they stepped out of the way. Which left me standing there with Raindrop on one side and Broadway on the other. Which was just the most comfortable and excellent position to be in. But at least¨Cnope, I wasn¡¯t even going to think about hypothetical ways it could get more uncomfortable. That just seemed like a recipe for disaster.


    While all those thoughts were running through my head, Broadway gave Raindrop a thumbs up. ¡°Hey, while we¡¯ve got the chance, great job the other day with that whole dropping the tarp from that hardware store on us? I swear, you almost got me.¡±


    ¡°Um, are you¡­ complimenting me for almost arresting you?¡± Izzy sounded understandably confused.


    ¡°I mean, sure?¡± Broadway shrugged as much as the bird costume allowed her to. ¡°We do illegal stuff, you try to stop us. If you manage it, good for you. It¡¯s not personal, dude. And like I said, it was a cool move. I¡¯ll be ready for it next time, but you uhh, you keep me on my toes. It¡¯s cool.¡±


    Izzy clearly had no idea how to respond to that, but eventually settled on a weak, ¡°Um, thanks.¡± Then she thought about it for another moment before adding, ¡°I uh, I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to give me some advice?¡±


    ¡°To catch me, my friends, or bad guys I don¡¯t care about?¡± Broadway shot back with clear amusement. ¡°Because something tells me the last one would still lead to the first two. Unless you want to hand over a written statement that you¡¯ll never try to catch me again. And, quite frankly, I like the whole cat and mouse thing, so not even then. But, I¡¯ll tell you one thing. I don¡¯t know what happened to you recently, but you¡¯re a hell of a lot cooler than you used to be. I mean, you¡¯re more confident, you look like you stick up for yourself more, you¡¯re even answering questions on the news sometimes. You used to be this quiet little wallflower who always looked like you were afraid the person who was asking you questions was gonna hit you with the microphone. I mean, I don¡¯t ahh, I¡¯m not trying to be insulting or whatever. I don¡¯t mean it in a bad way. I mean, I do, but only in the sense that you¡¯re not like that¨Cand it¡¯s fine to be like that if you¡¯re not comfortable with¨Cfuck.¡±


    For a brief handful of seconds, she was quiet, as though considering her words. Then she gave a short, decisive nod. ¡°What I mean is, whatever changed in your life recently to make you more confident, it¡¯s a good thing. You¡¯re a lot more fun this way, and a lot harder to get away from. So whoever or whatever was making you all meek and stuff before, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re in a better situation now.¡± She paused, clearly ran those words over in her head, and then nodded once more. ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±


    I almost said something, but decided it was a bad idea. Not only because I wasn¡¯t supposed to have that close of a relationship with Raindrop, but also because she could speak for herself just fine. Which, come to think of it, was Broadway¡¯s entire point.


    So, I stayed quiet. Izzy, however, straightened up a bit. ¡°Thanks, I um, I guess. But just so you know, I¡¯m still going to try to catch you, even if you are nice to me.¡±


    ¡°If I thought anything less, I wouldn¡¯t have said anything,¡± the other girl informed her casually. ¡°And who knows, you keep pulling out tricks like that tarp and you might just do it.¡± She didn¡¯t sound worried about the possibility, yet it wasn¡¯t as though she was dismissing it entirely or being insulting. She simply wasn¡¯t worried about what would happen if she was caught.


    By that point, Pack and Way had finished their conversation and came back. Amber cleared her throat. ¡°Let¡¯s just say, you guys¡­ don¡¯t start anything and we¡¯ll all just pretend we don¡¯t know anything about each other.¡± She gave a quick glance toward the girl in her Boulderdash costume before adding, ¡°Please don¡¯t make me regret trusting you when you say you¡¯re not here to do anything bad.¡±


    ¡°Promise,¡± Pack solemnly replied. ¡°We are absolutely here for casual fun and nothing else. Legal casual fun,¡± she added quickly after giving that a second of thought. ¡°You know what they say. Be gay, do crime. And you¡¯re already halfway there.¡± With what was very clearly a wink that was hidden behind her costume, she took Broadway by the hand and they started off.


    Shortly after that, Alloy and Fragile approached once more. The latter had a quite snazzy-looking red top hat, which she was practicing flipping around in her hands, along her arms, and up to her head. She was surprisingly good at it. Once they arrived, she looked to me and brightly announced, ¡°If you have any more friends around here that you don¡¯t want me to hear you talk to, they¡¯re selling these really cool belts at the booth next to the hat one.¡±


    Flushing a little, I mumbled something about keeping that in mind, before thanking her for playing along. Then I added, ¡°What¡¯s with those things you guys came back with, anyway?¡± My hands gestured to the light green balls she, Amber, and Izzy still had.


    ¡°They¡¯re for the phase room,¡± Amber explained. ¡°They¡¯ve got a lot of people waiting to go in, so they do it by colored balls. When these light up, it¡¯s our turn. We got a couple for you guys too.¡± She passed them over toward Peyton and me. ¡°Seriously, we¡¯ve gotta try it. It¡¯s all set up like a normal living room and kitchen, but they can phase you while you¡¯re in there. You know, make you intangible. So you can walk around and wave your hands through stuff.¡±


    For a brief second, I just stared at her. ¡°Dude, you can already do that by yourself. Why do you need to wait around and go in a special room for it?¡±


    ¡°Pfft, I can do that while going one direction,¡± she retorted. ¡°I always wondered what it¡¯d be like to be able to use my power anywhere I wanted. Believe me, if they had a ¡®teleport room¡¯ or a ¡®be super fast¡¯ room, I¡¯d try those too.¡±


    By that point, it was time to go over to where those guys were taking the photograph of all the people dressed up like Alloy and me. I felt a little weird about actually being in the picture, but then, it was also pretty fun to think that nobody there knew.


    It also turned out the guy who thought he could get the real us to sign the photo once it was blown up to giant-size was Richard Mornes, the guy from Ten Towers who was in charge of coordinating with law enforcement, recruiting people from the Minority, that sort of thing. I wasn¡¯t sure if he recognized me while we were doing the picture, but as soon as one of the other Paintballs asked if he was sure he could get me to sign it, the man glanced my way. His eyebrow rose before he replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯ll be interested.¡±


    Shortly after we were done with that, the balls lit up. As soon as she saw that, Fragile seemed to light up herself. ¡°Oooh, come on, come on, let¡¯s go check out the phasing room!¡±


    Before we could head that way, however, my attention was drawn to one side, as none other than Silversmith approached. Okay, to be fair, there had been like fourteen Silversmiths, all varying levels of believable. But something told me this was the real thing. This was really my dad.


    ¡°Ahem, sorry for interrupting,¡± he spoke while I did my best not to react to his presence. ¡°I¡¯ll let you guys get right back to enjoying the rest of the convention down here in just a second.¡±


    ¡°Uh, so, there¡¯s nothing wrong?¡± Amber asked, obviously worried about the whole Pack and Broadway situation.


    ¡°Nope,¡± my father confirmed. ¡°Nothing at all. Actually, you guys can go ahead.¡± His attention turned from her, sliding over the others and settling on me.


    ¡°Paintball, you mind having a little chat for a minute?¡±

 Equal And Opposite 21-10

    Oookay, so my dad, as Silversmith, wanted to talk to me. This was fine. This was good. This was okay. This was¡­ was¨Coh boy. Yeah, I had no idea how this was going to go. But I couldn¡¯t exactly refuse without causing even more suspicion than he might already have. And given who he was, I couldn¡¯t even pretend that there was an emergency that I had to go take care of. I had no reasonable way to get out of having this conversation right now, much as I might¡¯ve wanted to. And what really sucked was that if I hadn¡¯t known the truth, I would have been incredibly psyched to have a conversation with Silversmith. But then, if I didn¡¯t know the truth, a lot of things would¡¯ve been different. And not for the better, tempting as it might¡¯ve been to think otherwise sometimes. Knowing the truth was the right way to go in the long run.


    For a brief moment, I even wondered if this was really my father or not. But the thought vanished as fast as it had appeared. Of course this was my dad. They wouldn¡¯t leave something like this to a minion or body double or whatever. Now that the speeches and all that were over, he¡¯d probably excused himself from the table. Hell, for all I knew, that Eric Abbot guy was aware of the whole story. Actually, I was willing to bet he was part of the Ministry, if not a full on Touched himself. He clearly knew the truth. So yeah, this was definitely the real Silversmith. Which meant it was really my dad.


    Somehow, I managed to keep all the confusion and uncertainty out of my voice as I offered a shrug that I hoped was convincing. ¡°Uh, sure, I guess.¡± Glancing to the others, I gestured for them to go ahead. ¡°I¡¯ll catch up with you guys in a minute.¡±


    From the very brief look that Amber gave me, it was clear she wasn¡¯t sure about leaving me alone. But it disappeared just as quickly, and she kept a straight face while calling for the others to keep up. Like it didn¡¯t matter at all. Because we had to pretend it didn¡¯t, or it really would.


    So, they kept going while I turned back the other way with a bright, ¡°You wanted to talk?¡± Inwardly, I was telling myself that there was nothing to worry about. My father wasn¡¯t going to try anything right now in the middle of a huge group of people.


    Of course, the moment I had that thought, Dad immediately announced, ¡°Let¡¯s take a little walk to someplace a bit more private, hmm?¡± His hand gestured around us at all the people. ¡°Fun as it can be, it¡¯s kind of hard to hear yourself think sometimes in a place like this, you know?¡± His voice was casual, but I could tell he was paying attention to everything I did.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I made myself respond. I couldn¡¯t let him hear any hesitation or fear in my voice. Well, he could pick up some nervousness. That was to be expected. It¡¯d be weird if I wasn¡¯t nervous. But it couldn¡¯t be¨Cyeah. I had to be careful with this whole thing. It could blow up in my face so easily. Saying the wrong thing, or even giving the wrong reaction, could make this go so very wrong.


    It was a thought that I had to push out of my mind while following after my father as he led me through the crowd. My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest, and I was doing my level best to breathe in and out as normally as possible in order to stay calm. Well, sort of calm.


    Thankfully, no one else was paying much attention to us, so I didn¡¯t have to worry about someone else getting involved or being a distraction. Aside, of course, from the few people who complimented our costumes. No one actually thought we were the real deal. Why would they? Walking around an event like this was basically the perfect disguise. Which made me wonder how many real Touched were hanging out here. Hell, I already knew that there were at least two Fell-Touched disguised as different Touched in this place, and I was willing to bet there were probably others. I just had to hope that none of them were planning to cause trouble.


    Or maybe not hope that. Maybe actually hope the opposite. If there was trouble right now, I wouldn¡¯t have to talk to my father about¡­ whatever it was he wanted to talk about. If someone started a distraction, I could be saved from this whole thing. But no. No, I couldn¡¯t let myself hope that something went wrong here, no matter how convenient it might be for me. The rest of these people didn¡¯t deserve that.


    So, forcibly shoving the thought out of my head, I focused on my father just as he pushed open a semi-hidden door ahead of us and gestured for me to go through. This was my last chance. If I didn¡¯t want to be alone in a private place with him, I had to do something now. And then live with the consequences. Yet which would be worse, the consequences of showing him that I knew more than I was supposed to by refusing to be alone with him, or of walking into that private place and¡­ dealing with whatever came next?


    In the end, the only real choice (and it wasn¡¯t a choice at all) was to go with door number two. Taking a deep breath as silently as possible, I stepped through the door, my senses keenly alert for anything out of the ordinary. I had, of course, been covering the inside of my costume with as much paint as I could manage this entire time. There were various-colored shapes all over me, though out of sight so my father wouldn¡¯t know I was prepping. If things did go down right now, I was about as ready as I could be.


    The door turned out to lead to a small hallway with another door to the left before continuing straight ahead to another that was marked emergency exit. There wasn¡¯t much room here, but I was able to walk most of the way to the exit before turning back, putting about six or seven feet of distance between myself and my father as he closed the other door behind him. Then, we were left alone in that much quieter space. The soundproofing was still incredibly good here, to the point that I could have believed we were the only ones in the building. Despite the fact that there were thousands of people just a few feet away, it felt like I was completely alone with my father, cut off from any outside interference. Which was a prospect that really shouldn¡¯t have scared me as much as it did.


    And yet, here we were. I had no other excuses, nothing to stop me from having this face to face with my dad. Standing there, I made myself sound as casual as I possibly could, praying that my voice wouldn¡¯t crack as I spoke up. ¡°So, you wanted to talk? Please say you¡¯re gonna let me borrow the Silvercruiser. Wait, you do really have one of those, right? I know they have a toy of it, but I¡¯ve never been completely sure if that¡¯s a real thing or not.¡±


    I could hear the amusement in my father¡¯s (altered) voice. ¡°A silver hovercycle that can turn invisible? Of course I have one of those. I mean, I¡¯m not going to get into whether the toy or the real thing came first, but still.¡± I could tell he was smiling at me. ¡°Those companies have pretty good ideas sometimes.¡±


    Oh boy were there a lot of things I wanted to say to that. But I pushed most of them aside and simply replied, ¡°Maybe I can get some of them to push the idea of a Paint Buggy. You know, big four-wheeler thing with wide tires and this tank full of paint on the back that you can spray with a hose from the gunner position. If I can make it popular enough as a toy by the time I get my drivers license-err, how do they handle finding out if you can drive in your costumed identity without giving away your identity?¡±


    Something curious, my father asked, ¡°Is that a legitimate question? I mean, do you really want to know?¡±


    Well, now I really did. So I gave a quick nod. ¡°Wait, you mean there¡¯s a real answer?¡±


    ¡°Of course there is,¡± he assured me. ¡°Believe me, you¡¯re far from the first person to have that thought. It came up a long time ago, and they worked out a system for it, which allows them to verify that a Touched is drive-legal without exposing who they really are.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I admitted, ¡°now I¡¯m really curious. How can they manage something like that? And, you know, how secure is it really?¡± Not that I had any intention of following through, because no matter how secure the system was, I didn¡¯t trust my family not to have some way of gaming it to work out peoples¡¯ identities. Still, I was curious to hear what they¡¯d done to make enough people believe it was safe. It had to be something pretty good.


    ¡°Actually,¡± Dad informed me, ¡°it¡¯s an international system. Started down in California, if I remember right. And I usually do.¡± That bit was said with clear charismatic teasing amusement, and I made myself chuckle to avoid making the whole situation worse than it already was. Dad continued after giving me time to react. ¡°In any case, if you look at the back of a driver¡¯s license, you¡¯ll find what looks like a serial number. It¡¯s twelve digits. When you get your license, that number is added to a special international registry, and the only information it gets is the fact that you are legal to drive, along with any restrictions. At any point, you can go to a secure website and input that number on your license. It¡¯ll send back a three word code. Something like Bear Sofa Clock, or Headphones Chocolate Paper. That¡¯s all you need to remember.¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°I get it,¡± I put in. ¡°So if cops want to find out if you¡¯re legal to drive, you give them your three word code. They put the code in the computer and it tells them whether you¡¯re legal to drive or not.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he confirmed. ¡°The authorities don¡¯t get the numbers from your three-word code, so they can¡¯t check your actual identification. All they get is a ¡®yeah, this is a licensed driver.¡¯ And sure, it¡¯s not a perfect system. There¡¯s ways to game it, such as a licensed driver letting someone who isn¡¯t use their code. But, you know, if you¡¯re a Star-Touched, or at least a Sell-Touched trying to make nice, the hope is that you¡¯ll play by the rules. Besides, once you have a code associated with you, if someone else uses the same one, it sends up red flags. Then you¡¯ll have some questions to answer.¡±


    Offering a shrug, I replied, ¡°Well, I¡¯ll keep that in mind whenever it comes up. You know, if I actually survive this whole thing long enough for it to matter.¡± That last bit came out before I could even think about what I was saying, and I immediately regretted it. But it wasn¡¯t like I could take it back. I was just glad that my father couldn¡¯t see my face.


    Of course, I had something else to focus on almost immediately, as he lifted his head slightly to regard me. ¡°Yes, well, as it happens, you surviving is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.¡±


    Do not react, I immediately practically shouted at myself. Do not react to that, do not give him any sense of fear or nervousness. Do not show anything. It took everything I had not to recoil or give anything away through my body language.


    Instead, I made myself tilt my head curiously. ¡°Should I be worried that the leader of the Conservators wants to talk to me about whether I¡¯m going to survive or not?¡± My voice was even, as I managed, if barely, to keep it from cracking. It had to sound like I was still totally casual about the whole situation. Even if, in reality, I was double-checking that every spare concealed surface had some form of paint on it. Okay, quadruple-checking.


    Dad simply chuckled, head shaking. ¡°That depends on how well you react to a, well, let¡¯s call it a gentle reprimand.¡± He pushed on before I could react. ¡°I know, I know, you don¡¯t work for me, or for any of us. I get that, believe me. It may be hard to believe, but I understand the lure of working by yourself in situations like this. So yes, I know you aren¡¯t working for me and I don¡¯t have real authority over you. But Raindrop and That-A-Way are, and it seems that they¡¯ve been doing a bit of¡­ extracurricular work with you.¡±


    For a split-second, I had a positively terrified thought that he knew about the tunnel. I very nearly reacted badly. But, at the last possible second, I caught myself with the realization. He wasn¡¯t talking about the tunnel or any of that. ¡°You mean the whole thing with the Scions,¡± I managed, staring up at him. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re upset that they were involved with¡­ with exposing Cup.¡± Saying that made my heart slow down a bit, so it no longer felt like I was going to need a quick trip to the hospital. Well, not just yet anyway. The jury was out on how well I¡¯d feel once this conversation was over.


    My father nodded once. ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. We just need to have a quick little talk. As I said, I know you¡¯re not subject to our rules. But believe it or not, we still care about what happens to you. And, well, Raindrop and That-A-Way are part of the Minority.¡± His voice softened slightly, as he clearly tried to keep what he was saying from sounding too much like a dressing down (while still maintaining its seriousness). ¡°Finding out Cup¡¯s real identity was a huge thing. Congratulations on that. But going by yourselves, not telling any adult what was going on, talking those two into leaving their team behind¡­¡± He was clearly staring intently at me from behind that silver helmet. ¡°Tell me you have some idea of how dangerous that was.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I made myself nod. ¡°I know, trust me. It was¨Cif we hadn¡¯t¨Cit could¡¯ve gone really bad. I mean, we didn¡¯t know she was¨C¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Dad cut me off. ¡°You had no idea who she really was. But you were still investigating something that you knew could set the Scions off if they found out about it. And you all went out without having real backup. If you had taken a couple adults with you, or even just¨C¡± He hesitated before sighing. ¡°We could have captured Cup instead of just exposing her identity. We lost that opportunity, and she escaped.¡±


    Unfortunately, he had a point, and that realization made me flinch a bit visibly. Taking a deep breath, I hesitantly replied, ¡°You¡¯re right. If we¡¯d had more backup, maybe we could have captured her. But¡­¡± Now I really hesitated. Did I really want to say this? ¡°But as often as the Scions have found out when someone was coming after them, as much as it seems like they have inside information, do you really think it¡¯s impossible that they might have gotten wind of what we were doing if more people knew about it?¡±


    Dad was almost deathly silent for a moment, regarding me intently before speaking very carefully. ¡°Are you accusing one of our Star-Touched of being a traitor who works for the Scions?¡± His voice sounded as though it could have cut through glass.


    Hurriedly, I shook my head. ¡°No. No, I¡¯m not saying that at all. But you have a lot of support personnel. You know as well as I do that the moment some official thing went down the line about talking to a witness who might know something about the Scions, there¡¯d be a whole bunch of red tape to go through. And every bit of red tape is another person who could spill the beans. For all we know, if we let it be an official operation, it could¡¯ve turned into a trap against us. They could¡¯ve put a bomb in the apartment and killed everyone the moment we went in. Or¡­ or something. The point is, the more people who knew about it, the bigger chance of it blowing up in our faces. Uh, no offense or anything.¡±


    I could actually hear Dad snort quietly before he responded. ¡°I suppose I can see where you¡¯re coming from. You¡¯re a very suspicious person, aren¡¯t you?¡± His gaze seemed to bore right through me. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any particular reason for that you might want to get into?¡±


    I was silent for a second, before he gently prodded, ¡°If there¡¯s any problems at home or anything. You know, any reason why you don¡¯t tend to trust other people very much.¡±


    Yeah, he wanted to see if there was any chance I would talk to him about the Ministry. And, come to think of it, probably also wanted to test my reaction to find out if I knew about his connection to them. That¡¯s what this entire conversation was about, at least in part.


    My head shook. ¡°I guess I just prefer going my own way. Helps avoid that red tape I was talking about.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°But I know it was dumb to go out there by ourselves when the Scions were involved. Even if we didn¡¯t expect to run into them, especially like that. I promise, we¨CI¡¯ll be more careful.¡±


    Dad seemed to regard me in silence for a few brief seconds before clearing his throat. ¡°Good to know. And in the future, if you ever want to get help without going through all the official channels, feel free to call me. Believe it or not, I do know how to keep a secret.¡± He was extending his hand with a card in it. A card that had his name and a phone number on it. ¡°This will get through to my cell any time of the day. If you need help, with anything at all, just ask.¡±


    After a very brief hesitation, I took the card and held it tightly. Somehow, I managed to make my voice sound casual. ¡°Thanks. I mean, thank you, sir. I uhh, I¡¯ll keep it in mind. You¨Cyou¡¯ve always been my favorite hero, you know.¡± That time, my voice shook. But that was okay, it made sense for it to do so, even if he didn¡¯t know the reason.


    I could hear the smile in my father¡¯s voice. ¡°Well, thanks. Glad to know an old fogey can still inspire the new generation. And like I said, you call that number any time you need anything. Now go on.¡± He opened the door and gestured for me to head through. ¡°Have fun with the others.


    ¡°Who knows, maybe they¡¯ll be better than me at convincing you and your partner to join up with the team.¡±


    So, I thanked him again and went through the door, forcing myself not to look back. When I eventually made my way through the crowd to find the others, I saw that they had been joined by Syndicate, Whamline, and Wobble. All of them were in front of the entrance to the phase room, clearly waiting. When Raindrop saw me, she said something to the others and everyone turned my way. That-A-Way spoke up. ¡°Hey, Paintball. Everything okay?¡± She was clearly trying to keep her voice casual and even to avoid sounding nervous about that whole thing, but I could see just how tense she was. Not to mention how tense Izzy and Peyton were too.


    ¡°It was about the Scion situation, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Wobble put in, a bit knowingly. ¡°That¡¯s why he wanted to talk to you.¡±


    Syndicate spoke up before I could respond. ¡°Yeah, the boss wasn¡¯t too rough on you about that whole thing, was he? I mean, yeah, we weren¡¯t happy about finding out that you all went off and nearly got killed without telling us what was going on, but you still managed to find out who they really are. That¡¯s more than, well, anyone else has been able to do.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t be that bad,¡± Whamline pointed out. ¡°Not like he could assign the dude toilet duty or anything. He doesn¡¯t work for him.¡± Pausing, he added, ¡°You know, I¡¯m starting to see the benefit of going solo.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I waved both hands. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m fine. Silversmith just wanted to have a little talk about being careful, that¡¯s all. We¡¯re all good.¡±


    Clearly knowing that I didn¡¯t want to get into all that right then, Izzy announced, ¡°We let another group go ahead so we could wait for you.¡± Her eyes found mine as she added, ¡°If you still wanna do it?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± I agreed easily. ¡°No way am I missing out on this. Then again, everyone keeps talking about how cool it is, like walking through solid objects is gonna change everything.


    ¡°But personally, I think it¡¯s just a phase.¡±

 Interlude 21A - An Unexpected Detour

    ¡°Thanks a lot, keep the tip.¡± With those words, Irelyn Banners (dressed as a civilian rather than as her costumed identity of Flea) stepped back into the fairly cramped motel room with a box of piping hot pizza. Kicking the door shut behind her, the brunette woman with her hair kept in a loose ponytail held the treat up in one hand so her companion could see it. ¡°Here we go, the real dinner of champions.¡±


    From the other side of the room, Hazel Ruthers (better known to the public as Trivial) raised an eyebrow. Outside of her own costume, Hazel had straight black hair that fell only a couple inches above her shoulders, with fairly dark skin to indicate her mixed-race status. She had a two-liter bottle of soda in one hand and was using it to fill a couple of plastic cups provided by the motel. ¡°Could we really be considered champions when ordering pizza is basically the height of what we¡¯ve been able to accomplish the entire time we¡¯ve been down here? I don¡¯t want to say we¡¯re bad at our jobs or anything, but we¡¯ve been here for days and have nothing to show for it. At this point, after all the people we¡¯ve talked to, I¡¯m not convinced your sister even exists, let alone that she¡¯s ever been here. Are you sure she wasn¡¯t just the result of some manic and incredibly elaborate fever dream you had?¡±


    Snorting at the question, Irelyn set the pizza down on the nearby bed (one of two in the room they were sharing) before grabbing a paper plate. ¡°You do realize that you¡¯ve met her before, right?¡± She was already loading up the plate with several pieces, which she handed over that way. ¡°Multiple times, actually. We went and got lunch together a few months ago.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we were both having elaborate fever dreams,¡± Hazel retorted while taking the offered plate. She traded it by handing over a cup of soda before taking a seat on the end of her own bed. ¡°I can¡¯t rule that out. But come on, seriously, if your sister was anywhere around here, someone we talked to would have seen her. We¡¯ve got nothing. I mean, nothing here anyway. Maybe she made that call and left immediately? Or maybe she found a way to bounce the signal. All you¡¯ve got that says she was here is that phone call Bryson tracked down to this place, right? It could be faked.¡±


    Heaving a sigh, Irelyn took the cup and sat down to get her own plate of pizza. ¡°By that standard, the whole thing could have been faked. Even her being the one talking. God knows, Dad has pissed off enough powerful people. I wouldn¡¯t put it past some of them to¨Cbut they don¡¯t know what I am. She was clearly stopping me from exposing my identity to whoever was sitting there listening, and¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she blanched. ¡°Yeah, maybe they were threatening her or something. I don¡¯t know. I was hoping we¡¯d get some easy answers just by tracking her down, but you¡¯re right. She¡¯s obviously not here. Unless she¡¯s a lot better at hiding than I think she is, someone around here would¡¯ve seen her.¡±


    Scooting over to the edge of her bed, Hazel spoke gently. ¡°Well, there is some good news about all that, you know?¡± She took a bite of the pizza, waiting for the other woman to look toward her expectantly before explaining. ¡°If they went through all the trouble of making a phone call or whatever to send you down here, it means your family is probably still alive. I mean, if they were just gonna¡­ umm, you know, just gonna kill them, they wouldn¡¯t go through all that to distract you. They wanted you distracted and out of the way, and sending you all the way down here to Florida probably means it¡¯s something elaborate and time-consuming. And the more time-consuming it is, the better chance your family is still okay.¡± Having said all that, she visibly grimaced. ¡°I know that¡¯s not exactly the best news in the universe, but¨C¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s something,¡± Irelyn agreed, her voice coming with another heavy sigh. ¡°I know what you mean. Obviously they had a reason to distract me. There¡¯s no point in sending me on a wild goose chase if they were just going to kill them and dump the bodies. There¡¯s¡­ something else going on. Something I don¡¯t know anything about, that¡¯s just¨Cfuck. I don¡¯t know.¡± She set the plate down before throwing up her hands helplessly. ¡°If this really is a dead-end, then I¡¯ve got nothing. At least with that phone call I had a lead. But if she¡¯s not here, if my parents and sister aren¡¯t¨CI mean¡­ they could be anywhere.¡±


    ¡°Hey now.¡± Reaching out, Hazel put a hand on the other woman¡¯s arm. ¡°I don¡¯t come bearing only problems, I¡¯ve also got solutions.¡± Belatedly, she amended, ¡°Okay, maybe not exactly solutions. But at least clues, or hints, or¡­ another idea. I¡¯ve got something we can check.¡±


    Irelyn arched an eyebrow that way. ¡°You¡¯ve been looking into other things too, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Well, the same thing, your missing family,¡± Hazel pointed out. ¡°Just different avenues for finding them. I mean¨Cokay so I started looking into where your sister came from. You know, where your family adopted her from. I know, you think this is all about your dad pissing someone off, but I figured it might be a good idea to look at your sister¡¯s past too, since you weren¡¯t. Sorry if that was, like, overstepping or whatever. I just, you know, thought it was worth it.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to apologize, Hazel,¡± Irelyn assured her. ¡°I was laser-focused on it being some guy from my dad¡¯s business. If that¡¯s wrong¨Cwell then it¡¯s wrong. But are you saying you actually found out something about Paige?¡± The very thought that this whole situation could have come from her adopted sister¡¯s past instead of someone that their father had pissed off was enough to make her reel inwardly. But she wasn¡¯t going to dismiss the prospect. Not now that they had already spent all this time looking for Paige here in Florida to no avail. She was ready to pursue any lead at all, as long as it actually led somewhere.


    Hazel hesitated before giving a very slight nod. ¡°Yes and no. I mean, I found out some stuff, including a lot of dead ends. Like, for example, the group your dad adopted her from doesn¡¯t exist. They never existed.¡±


    That made Irelyn do a quick double-take. ¡°Wait, what do you mean they never existed?¡±


    ¡°I mean that group was never a real adoption agency,¡± Hazel informed her. ¡°As far as I can tell, the agent your father worked with to secure the adoption isn¡¯t real. Well, obviously he¡¯s real, but the name is fake. The name of the group is fake, and even¨C¡± She grimaced while passing on the news. ¡°Even the name of the doctor who supposedly delivered Paige as a baby is fake. It¡¯s all fake, Irelyn. There is no such doctor who ever worked in that hospital. There was no adoption agency by that name, no doctor, no nothing. The agent never did any adoptions before that one. As far as I can tell, every single name on the official records about where Paige came from, aside from that one adoption agent, is completely made up. The rest of them aren¡¯t real people. The judge, the lawyers, all of them. They don¡¯t exist. Or at least, they used fake identities for this whole thing. Which itself is pretty fucked up, you know?¡±


    By the time she finished all that, Irelyn was staring at her, having completely forgotten about the pizza. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that almost everyone behind my sister¡¯s adoption and¨Cand her entire life before we got her was completely made up? How is that even possible? I mean, why would¨Cdid my Dad¨Cof course he knew.¡± Her head shook rapidly. ¡°He had to know. Maybe he went through some illegal channels to adopt her. But why? Why would he need to do that? It¡¯s not like there aren¡¯t plenty of perfectly legal adoption services out there. I don¡¯t¨Coh my God.¡± Her eyes had widened dramatically. ¡°You think my father had Paige kidnapped from someone?¡± The very thought was enough to make her physically recoil. Irelyn had plenty of problems with her father, but she¡¯d always seen him as generally a decent person, for what he was. And if not decent, at least not the type to have a child kidnapped like that. She had plenty of issues with the man, but he wasn¡¯t that sort of person, was he? The fact that she had to seriously ask herself that made bile rise in her throat. She felt physically ill. ¡°You think he had her kidnapped and¡­ and got some schmuck adoption agent to make it look legitimate? But wait, why would he do that? If the rest of the identities are fake, what was the point of having a legitimate adoption agent?¡±


    There was a brief pause before the other woman answered. ¡°I don¡¯t think this person was a legitimate adoption agent, Irelyn. Like I said, he never did any adoptions before that one, before Paige. He¡¯s a real person, but there¡¯s no record of him ever existing before Paige¡¯s adoption. And the agency he was supposed to work for doesn¡¯t exist, it never has. So this guy came out of nowhere, no background, no real history. I think he was mostly used to make the adoption look good for anyone your parents talked to. You know, so their friends or business people could see a real live person discussing the adoption with them.¡±


    Irelyn was still visibly reeling from all that. Her mouth opened and shut a couple times before she managed a weak, ¡°But¡­ but would my parents really¡­¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Hazel hesitantly replied. ¡°I don¡¯t know enough to say what your father knew about the situation or¨Cbut I mean, obviously he had to know some of it. There¡¯s no way he didn¡¯t realize that a lot of this information was bogus. He¡¯s not an idiot. He¡¯s a lot of things, sure, but not that stupid. He had to know that the adoption agency wasn¡¯t real. Maybe he thought there was a legitimate reason, or¡­ I don¡¯t know. Maybe there was a legitimate reason, Irelyn. We don¡¯t know enough to say for sure. All we can say is that all that information is fake.¡±


    Absorbing all of that, Irelyn shook her head. ¡°So, basically, all we know is that we don¡¯t know anything. We¡¯re right back to where we started from. If none of that information is real, then¡­ then we¡¯ve got nothing to go off of. Which means if this is about Paige¡¯s own history instead of something my dad did, they could be literally anywhere.¡±


    Hazel offered a very slight smile while rubbing a hand over the back of her neck. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say we¡¯ve got nothing, exactly. I umm, I might¡¯ve asked Bryson to check for anything he could find about those names. You know, whether they ever popped up again in relation to adoptions or anything like that. Especially the agent, the only guy who actually existed, even if everything about him was fake.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Irelyn¡¯s gaze was intense as she stared that way. ¡°Please tell me he actually found something useful.¡± She needed some actual good news.


    Hazel, thankfully, gave her a nod. ¡°Yeah, he found something. Turns out that guy, ahh Albert Elcott, he did two more adoptions that same year. It¡¯s definitely the same guy too, not just the name. The signature matches the one on your paperwork. Both of the other adoptions were in Salt Lake City.¡±


    Taking a moment to process that, Irelyn slowly replied, ¡°Salt Lake City? Does that have any sort of relevance?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± came the response, ¡°But get this. Those three adoptions, Paige and the other two, were the last¨Cthe only ones this guy ever did, before he retired¡­ at age thirty-four.¡±


    Irelyn gave a double-take at that, squinting. ¡°He retired at thirty-four?¡±


    With a nod, Hazel explained, ¡°Apparently he ¡®inherited¡¯ a small fortune from some dead great-aunt or something. Enough to buy a big house in some small town south of Salt Lake and live without working for the rest of his life. I mean, he¡¯s not in some giant mansion or anything, but he¡¯s comfortable. And it gets more interesting than that.¡±


    ¡°More interesting?¡± Irelyn shifted a bit on the bed. ¡°I dunno, it¡¯s already pretty up there.¡±


    Smirking a bit, Hazel continued. ¡°Those other two adoptions he did, the birth parents¡¯ signatures are different names, but they¡¯re all in the same handwriting. At least, according to the experts Bryson asked. Two different experts looked at the handwriting and they said all six signatures from all six different birth parents for the three kids were written by the same person. They were trying to disguise it, but these guys were pretty sure.¡±


    That¡­ was a lot. Irelyn had to take another minute to think her way through it. ¡°Okay, so what we know is that the agency my parents worked with to adopt Paige was fake. The agent who worked with them obviously changed his identity before then, because there are no records of him anywhere before that. The doctors and nurses back at the hospital who originally delivered Paige as a baby don¡¯t exist. Her birth parents don¡¯t exist. And the one person in this entire situation, besides Paige, who does actually exist, the agent who facilitated the adoption, bought a house and retired that same year after two more adoptions. And all three of the adoptions were signed off by the same person posing as all six birth parents.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,¡± Hazel confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s all pretty weird, huh?¡±


    ¡°Pretty weird¡­¡± Irelyn echoed a bit blankly, gazing off into the distance. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d say so. But you know what we¡¯re gonna do now?¡±


    ¡°Go see this guy in Utah?¡± Hazel guessed.


    ¡°Go see this guy in Utah,¡± Irelyn confirmed. ¡°So what¡¯s the name of this town he lives in, anyway?¡±


    *******


    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s pronounced Tooele,¡± the friendly waiter who had been serving Hazel and Irelyn lunch politely informed them. ¡°Too-ill-uh. Too-ill-uh, not tool or toollie. Yeah, I know how it looks, but here we are.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± Hazel lamented. ¡°I guess neither of us wins that bet. Thanks though. And hey, this is a nice place.¡±


    Beaming, the man thanked them for stopping by, gave the pair a last refill of iced tea, then stepped away to handle a couple newly arriving customers. Which left the two women to look at one another in silence for a moment.


    Irelyn spoke first, keeping her voice low despite the fact there was no one nearby the back corner booth they had requested. ¡°So, this town has about forty thousand people. You know how big Detroit is right now? Two point five million people.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s cozy,¡± Hazel noted, glancing around. ¡°I mean, I¡¯d get bored pretty quick, but it¡¯d be a nice place to visit sometimes. I can see why our strange friend decided to retire here. That money he got probably wouldn¡¯t give him a very nice life for long in a place like Detroit. It¡¯s too expensive. But here?¡± She gestured around. ¡°Cost of living can¡¯t be that high. It¡¯s quiet, peaceful, people probably leave him alone.¡±


    ¡°Something tells me it¡¯s not just that,¡± Irelyn flatly replied. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll tell you about it on the way.¡± She took a final gulp of her iced tea before getting up to leave, tossing a twenty dollar bill on the table for a tip on the way out. It had been good food, and good service.


    Once they were outside the so-named Chubby¡¯s Cafe, the pair headed for their rented car. Irelyn drove, checking the GPS on her phone before heading for the house their target lived in. They had thought about showing the picture they¡¯d taken off his (quite barren and ignored) Facebook page to the waiter in there, but given the size of the town, they didn¡¯t want to accidentally tip the man off ahead of time. This seemed like the sort of place where a lot of people knew one another.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s got you suspicious now?¡± Hazel asked. ¡°I mean, besides this entire thing.¡±


    ¡°You know how this Albert Elcott guy bought a fair-sized house to retire?¡± Irelyn started. ¡°Well, see, I took a look at the property records around him, and it turns out he owns the houses on either side too. They¡¯re owned through a shell company, and he has people going in and out every year. Different renters, probably paid off to keep quiet about anything he¡¯s doing. Or, you know, anything they hear.¡±


    Giving a low whistle, Hazel shook her head. ¡°So you think he¡¯s up to something else after all, besides just living the good life.¡±


    Irelyn confirmed, ¡°Yeah, I definitely think there¡¯s a reason he doesn¡¯t want real neighbors who might snoop in on what he¡¯s doing in that house. Owning those other two homes gives him a buffer to do whatever he wants without prying eyes. And there¡¯s more than that. I found several deliveries of¡­ pretty high tech stuff. He tried to split it up with different companies, months or even years apart, even having it delivered to one of those other two houses sometimes. But trust me, whatever he¡¯s doing, it involves building something pretty advanced. And now I really want to know what it is.¡±


    ¡°So you wanna go in like this, or suit up?¡± Hazel¡¯s question came as she glanced out the window at the houses around them. ¡°You think this town even has any Touched?¡±


    ¡°Not on the record they don¡¯t,¡± Irelyn replied. ¡°The nearest Touched teams are up in Salt Lake, thirty miles north. And they¡¯re mostly still dealing with the fallout from that Collision Point between Hollow and Grote. Pretty sure they wouldn¡¯t be down here. Which is another reason this place is probably good for whatever that Elcott guy¡¯s working on.¡± She paused to consider then before adding, ¡°Let¡¯s suit up. It¡¯s a little risky, but I don¡¯t want to take the chance of letting this guy get away just because we couldn¡¯t go all out to catch him.¡±


    So, the two of them parked the car in an alley they found near the neighborhood in question, changing into their costumes before driving the rest of the way. It was barely afternoon in the middle of the week, so they didn¡¯t expect many people to be around. Still, rather than park in front of the house, they stopped a few doors down. The neighborhood itself looked like any suburban street, with perfectly maintained green lawns, lush bushes and trees, everything neatly arranged and quiet. The place felt eerie and strange to Irelyn, for all its complete bland normality.


    Still, there was nothing else to do beyond walk up to the door and get some answers. So, that was what they did. The two stepped out, glanced around once more, and then strode that way. There was no one in sight, but they wanted to get into that house before someone happened to glance outside and raise questions.


    ¡°We just gonna knock on the door?¡± Hazel (or Trivial when in costume) asked, her eyes scanning carefully for any threats.


    Irelyn considered, even as they got to the chain link fence surrounding the property. ¡°You know, I think we¡¯ll go right inside, and¨C¡± Abruptly, she stopped talking, as the door of the house opened. They saw a brief glimpse of the man that they were after, a short and wiry figure with stringy black hair and a ruddy complexion. But as soon as he saw them, the man¡¯s eyes widened dramatically and he abruptly jumped back inside and slammed the door.


    ¡°Hard way it is, then!¡± Flea snapped, hopping right over the fence and all the way to the porch in a single motion. Her foot reared back before kicking the door off its hinges. It was reinforced, but that didn¡¯t matter when it came to her leg-strength. The door snapped open and fell to the floor with a loud clatter in the small entranceway. She heard footsteps running down some stairs to her left, and sprinted that way, passing through the short corridor to find an open door to the basement.


    With Trivial right behind her, Flea pursued their quarry, calling out, ¡°Albert, stop! We need to talk to you! We¡¯re not here to¨C¡±


    She cut herself off, as they had reached the bottom of the stairs. The basement was unfinished, a simple cement floor and walls, totally open save for a complicated-looking machine in the middle. It was about ten feet wide, reaching almost to the ceiling, consisting of a wild assortment of pipes, sheets of metal, glowing lights, tubes with various liquids in them, spinning wheels, and more.


    ¡°What¡­ the hell?¡± Trivial managed, her gaze moving from the weird machine to the man himself. ¡°Hey! We need to talk to you!¡±


    ¡°No, no, no, no, you can¡¯t be here. It was ready, it was finally ready, why are you here?!¡± Albert demanded. He was standing in front of the machine, head shaking violently. ¡°I did everything he said. I did everything right. How did you¨Cwhy would you¨Cno, no! You can¡¯t be here!¡±


    ¡°Albert, hang on.¡± Irelyn held a hand up cautiously. ¡°Who are you talking about? We¡¯re not here to hurt you. Do you know who we are?¡±


    The man wrapped his arms around himself with a slightly crazed giggle. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. It doesn¡¯t matter. I did my part. I did what I was supposed to do. I was always Plan B. Just Plan B. But then I was Plan A. I was supposed to have more time, and then I didn¡¯t, but I still fixed it. I followed all his instructions and I made it work! It needs more tests. I was supposed to test it. One more month. One more month to perfect it, just to make sure. But you had to come. You had to fuck it all up and come! So oh well, no more tests. No more perfection. We have to do it now.¡±


    ¡°Albert, get away from that¨C¡± Irelyn started. But before she could say more, the man abruptly snapped his hand out, smacking a button on the side of the machine. She and Trivial both launched themselves that way, but their vision was overtaken by a blinding flash of light even as a sense of weightlessness filled them. It felt like they were floating for a few seconds, before the light faded and the ground rushed up under them. They both fell onto dirt, grass, and pebbles.


    With a grunt, Irelyn looked up just in time to see that Albert guy vanish through the trees. Trees? Yes, there was a forest around them. They had¡­ teleported? Frowning, she lunged to her feet.


    Trivial was right behind her, blurting, ¡°Where the hell are we?¡±


    ¡°I dunno, but he does,¡± Flea replied. She was already rushing toward the trees where Albert had disappeared. Only to stop short a few seconds later, as she came through them and found herself on the edge of a cliff. There was no sign of Albert, but far below was a rocky beach next to a tumultuous ocean. On that beach was an assortment of people all gathered around several fires, apparently cooking food. Some had very obvious physical changes, such as visible spikes, horns, one who looked like an eight foot tall living tree, and another who was more like an anthropomorphic caterpillar.


    ¡°Wait, are those¡­ are those Touched down there?¡± Trivial demanded, staring that way.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Flea confirmed, her throat suddenly dry. ¡°I know where we are. Trivial, we¡­ we¡¯re both dressed up as well-known Star-Touched.


    ¡°And we¡¯re standing on Breakwater.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 14

    Blackjack and Melissa


    Pausing with a forkful of steak halfway to his mouth, Eric Abbot stared at his daughter for a moment. He had been doing that a lot, given his wonder and delight at the fact she was even able to leave her bed and come to this dining room in the first place. Such an incredibly simple thing on the face of it, yet a complete impossibility until very recently. He had found himself many times in these past few days staring with pride, love, and relief to see his beautiful, brilliant daughter finally able to move around and interact with the world safely for the first time since she had been infected with that horrific disease years earlier.


    But this stare was not the same as those. Now, he gazed at his daughter with disbelief, taking a moment to find his voice lest it crack mid-sentence. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you want to do what?¡±


    Melissa, of course, didn¡¯t need to eat. Nor did she get any benefit from it. That was the downside of her new condition. Yes, she could get up and move around without fear of breaking (at least permanently), but nor could she taste anything. Her body was entirely made of glass. She didn¡¯t seem to need food or water, and a small test had confirmed that she had no need of oxygen.


    Despite that entire lack of needing (or getting any benefit from) food, Melissa still insisted on sitting with him at the dinner table. Even now, she was watching the food on his fork a bit distractedly before looking up to meet his gaze. ¡°Huh? Oh, I said I want to join Paintball¡¯s team.  Wouldn¡¯t that be cool? I could be Stained Glass. Wait, no, there¡¯s a better name than that. But really, Daddy, they¡¯re all artistic and stuff and I can make things. Like a sculptor. There¡¯s a word for someone who makes glass sculptures, right?¡± Shaking that thought off, she quickly added, ¡°Anyway, I fit on their team perfectly. And Paintball¡¯s so cool! Plus Alloy¡¯s cool too. You want me to be with the cool people, right?¡±


    Oh boy was there a lot that Eric wanted to say to that. Yet, in the end, he simply cleared his throat and replied, ¡°There are several cool groups in the city, you know.¡± A part of him wanted to use his power to find the right thing to say, but he had promised himself that he wouldn¡¯t abuse that just to interact with his daughter. If he said the wrong thing, so be it. At least their relationship would be real and not guided along on rails. He wanted everything he said to Melissa to be what he chose to say, not what his power prompted him with.


    For her part, his daughter blinked a couple times before curiously asking, ¡°Do you not want me to go onto Paintball¡¯s team?¡± Her head tilted a little. ¡°Is it because you¡¯re afraid he might be against the Ministry?¡±


    Choking just a little, Eric regarded her before quietly murmuring, ¡°Sometimes I think you¡¯re a little too smart for your own good. Definitely too smart for my good.¡± He took a breath before letting it out as he continued. ¡°It¡¯s more about the fact that they aren¡¯t with us. They aren¡¯t part of the Ministry¡¯s organization, they don¡¯t have anyone embedded with them.¡±


    ¡°And if I joined them, you would,¡± Melissa pointed out with a broad, clearly mischievous smile.


    Pointing with his fork, Eric retorted, ¡°You know what I mean. I don¡¯t want you to be their in with that group. Not mine or the Ministry¡¯s. Besides, you like them. If something went wrong and you had to choose between being loyal to Paintball or the Ministry¡­ you don¡¯t want that. I don¡¯t want that.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t want me to join your team.¡± Melissa¡¯s words were quiet, the faintest bit of hurt within them.


    Setting his fork down, Eric reached out to take his daughter¡¯s glass hand. ¡°Listen to me, okay? The reason I don¡¯t want you to be part of La Casa is because I don¡¯t think you would enjoy it. Sometimes we have to hurt people. We try not to hurt innocent people more than we have to, and our targets¡­ we do our best not to be monsters. But I know you. I know you wouldn¡¯t enjoy it. You want to be a hero. You want to help people.¡±


    After the slightest pause, Melissa gave a short nod. She met his gaze once more, offering a very faint smile. ¡°I mean, a real hero would probably turn you in. But I think I can deal with only being mostly a hero.¡±


    With a chuckle, Eric squeezed her hand. ¡°Well, lucky me. But let¡¯s talk about what team you can join.


    ¡°Because I think I know exactly where you can do the most good.¡±


    ******


    Rubi Nilsen


    Standing in the bathroom, nineteen-year-old Rubi Nilsen stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin was pale, and her dark blonde, almost brown hair limp and stringy. There were dark circles under her eyes, and when she tried to smile, it didn¡¯t look real. She couldn¡¯t even convince herself.


    This was¡­ hard. Taking care of her younger brother Roald and their little sister Emilee for the past year, basically from the moment she had turned eighteen, had been difficult enough by itself. She was barely out of high school and already couldn¡¯t go to college the way she¡¯d planned. She was working at a law firm, technically. Yet instead of becoming the lawyer she¡¯d always wanted to be, she was cleaning their offices as an overnight maid. She scrubbed toilets, vacuumed the carpets, dusted their desks, emptied their trash, and anything else they needed.


    From nine-thirty pm to five-thirty am she did that, before taking the bus home and arriving just in time to make sure Roald and Emilee were up and getting ready for school. She got them breakfast and sent them on their way. Then she would crash until around three pm, get up to be present for Emilee (Roald could take care of himself much more easily) so she could help the girl with her homework, then get dinner on. The rest of the afternoons and evenings were spent trying as best as she could to be a normal human being for a couple hours, before it was time to go right back out to work and do it again. While she was at work, either Roald was in the apartment, or the neighbor lady, Mrs. Kroothers. Someone was there at all times, just in case.


    That was Monday through Friday. On the weekends, she tried to spend as much time with Emilee as possible. And Roald, when he was around, but that was less frequently ever since he actually got a job of his own. Regardless, she continued to take Emilee out to the park or to the dollar theater, anywhere they could go to give her little sister some semblance of a normal life.


    And now Murphy (no one ever called her Eleanor) needed her too. Tyson¡­ Tyson and Rubi were never exactly super-close, but they had been friendly enough. They had to be, considering the situation their families were in. But now he was gone. He had been murdered right in his own apartment, just downstairs. And the prison system wasn¡¯t in the habit of letting convicts out to take care of their younger child just because the one who was taking care of them happened to die.


    The social services lady had asked if Rubi thought she could take in Murphy too, or if she should put her in the system. But the tone of the woman¡¯s voice, the thick folder of other people she was clearly already taking care of, and the very doubtful look on her face when she had brought up the possibility of getting Murphy placed somewhere had told Rubi all she needed to know. The odds of a mixed-race, teenage girl from a poor family, whose parents were in prison for selling drugs ending up in a good home were¡­ low, to say the least.


    So, she had told the social services lady that she had it handled. The look of relief on the woman¡¯s face had been unmistakeable, and she had left very soon after having her sign a few things taking the responsibility away from her.


    Now Murphy was living with them, sleeping in the same room as Emilee. They¡¯d managed to convince a couple guys in the building to help them move the girl¡¯s bed upstairs and into this apartment, and they were going to sell everything that Murphy didn¡¯t want to keep. There was no room for it here, and they certainly couldn¡¯t pay storage or a separate lease to keep that apartment.


    The point was, with their parents in prison and Tyson gone, Emilee, Roald, and Murphy needed Rubi to be there. Even if the latter two were more capable of functioning on their own, they still needed her to be the adult. So she was. She put aside everything in the hopes that someday¡­ someday Roald and Murphy would be adults too, and Emilee would be older and more capable of being alone. Rubi wasn¡¯t putting aside college and a career forever.


    And yet, even as she kept telling herself that, part of her wouldn¡¯t stop whispering that it would be harder to go back to school and try to make something of herself years from now. She wouldn¡¯t be going with her friends, she barely even saw her friends anymore. They had moved on. They were off to university, making new relationships, building their real adult lives and careers.


    There were times when Rubi couldn¡¯t help but feel a wave of despair, of anxiousness, of anger at their parents and at her siblings. She didn¡¯t want to. She wasn¡¯t proud of it, and she pushed the thoughts down as soon as they appeared, but they were still there now and then.


    Was she a bad person? Was she selfish? Staring into her own eyes, Rubi tried to smile again. It didn¡¯t look any better than the first time.


    ¡°Rubi?¡± It was Roald, just outside the closed bathroom door. ¡°Can uh, can I show you something?¡±


    A rush of terrified thoughts about what else could have gone wrong went through her mind, but she shoved them down, tasted what she hoped was a somewhat normal expression on her face, and opened the door. ¡°Sorry, the milk didn¡¯t go sour again, did it?¡± God, if they had to spend another four bucks on a gallon before she got paid¡­


    Roald, however, shook his head. There was a slightly pensive, uncertain expression on his face. ¡°No, no nothing like that. I just¡­ um, you know how I said Murphy and me got jobs? Um. Here.¡± With that, he held up a wad of dollar bills. No, not dollar bills. Twenty dollar bills.


    ¡°What¨CRoald, what is this?¡± Rubi was staring at the folded up money.


    ¡°It¡¯s for you¨CI mean for us. I mean for food and stuff,¡± Roald informed her. ¡°Murphy and me both chipped in. There¡¯s three hundred dollars there for groceries. You know, so we can get some good stuff. And uhh, here.¡± From his pocket, he produced another couple of twenties. ¡°This should be enough to get a taxi or an Uber or whatever so we don¡¯t have to try to carry a bunch of bags onto the bus. When umm, when I get back from school, I thought we could go out and pick up some stuff. We can drop Emilee off at Danielle¡¯s to play for a couple hours and go get everything we need.¡±


    Rubi was still staring at the money. ¡°Roald, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s too much. You need to be saving for school. You can still go.¡±


    Shaking his head, the boy replied, ¡°It¡¯s okay, we¡¯re putting money away too, I promise. We¡¯re doing okay at the shop, and¡­ and we wanna help. Take it, please? And say we can go out today.¡±


    Hesitating for another moment as she felt a wave of guilt that her brother had to contribute anything to keep them afloat, Rubi finally took the offered cash and nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll go as soon as you get home.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¨Cgood.¡± Roald coughed before gesturing. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure Emilee¡¯s ready for school, then we¡¯ll head out. You should take a shower and sleep, Ru. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s gonna be okay. Hey, maybe we can even get some KFC on the way back. Emilee¡¯d love that. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s been awhile.¡±


    With that, he headed back down the hall to the kitchen, leaving his sister to shut the door. Rubi turned back to the mirror, staring at the cash in her hand. Thoughts of cupboards that were full, of fresh milk that they didn¡¯t have to drink past the expiration date just to make it last, of being able to give Emilee real fruit and vegetables, and even cookies that weren¡¯t from the dollar store filled her mind.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    That time, when Rubi met her expression and smiled, it was real.


    ******


    Sterling and Elena


    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s out of the city then?¡± Listening to his son¡¯s response over the phone for a few seconds, Sterling gazed out the window of his office. Well, one of his offices, in one of his buildings in the heart of the city. Watching the construction site across the street, he was silent until Simon finished confirming that Luciano Munoz had indeed been escorted safely from the city and was set up in a place to lay low.


    ¡°Good.¡± His reply was simple, even if the thoughts running through his mind were anything but. ¡°Head on back, and stop by the storage unit on Tulsbee to drop off the cash with Bowers. He¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s clean.¡± Another pause as he listened to Simon confirm that, before he signed off with, ¡°Drive safe. And son¡­ good work out there.¡±


    With that, he clicked off the phone, giving a long, heavy exhale before tossing it aside. The phone landed on the desk with a clatter.


    ¡°Do that much more and you¡¯ll have to get a new one,¡± Elena observed from the doorway. She stepped inside, closing the door behind herself before crossing over to the desk to run her hand over the phone in question.


    Looking that way briefly before turning his attention back to the window, Sterling replied, ¡°It might be a stretch, but I think we can afford it.¡±


    Her hand left the phone as Elena stepped around the desk to be in front of him, brushing her fingers over his jaw tenderly. ¡°I take it Simon dropped him off safely.¡±


    ¡°Safely,¡± Sterling echoed with a slight cough. ¡°Yes, he¡¯s safe. Though I can¡¯t say the same about the people that impulsive piece of shit left in his wake.¡± His eyes moved away from the window to meet hers. ¡°Those people are either dead, or mourning the ones who are.¡±


    Gently using her hand to make her husband meet her gaze, Elena quietly spoke. ¡°You must be upset, dear. You are generally better at controlling your language in the office.¡±


    Sterling was silent for a moment, of course giving a heavy sigh. ¡°This sort of thing is not why we started this. His contributions barely matter compared to what we bring in without him, and he provides nothing else of value. Sorry, provided. I doubt we¡¯ll ever see him again.¡±


    ¡°Not to mention,¡± Elena put in, leaning up to gently kiss her husband before she continued, ¡°his method of gathering the last payment for his extraction was a bit¡­ attention-getting.¡± She glanced away to look out the window at that same construction site before turning to him. Her voice was darker. ¡°He killed people he didn¡¯t need to. Innocent people. That¡­ that is not what we intended for him to do.¡±


    Sterling gave a flat grunt, head shaking as he almost snarled the words, ¡°I assumed he had money stashed away. Or people in his world who owed it to him. When I gave him the price for getting him out of the city and away from his¡­ angry business partners, I didn¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t think he would be foolish enough to attract the attention of every law enforcement officer in the city with his wild, unhinged massacre,¡± Elena finished for him. ¡°Because you are accustomed to working with people who hold more self-control than that. And more of an investment in keeping the city stable. Munoz was leaving the city. He had no reason to care about the chaos he was leaving behind, or for the damage he was doing to the people who are still here. We gave him a price and he paid it.¡±


    Sterling stepped over to the window, putting a hand against it as he gazed down at the traffic below. His voice was soft. ¡°Which is why we couldn¡¯t go back on the deal.¡± He echoed her words then. ¡°We gave him a price and he paid it. Even if we don¡¯t like how. We have a reputation to uphold.¡±


    Elena moved beside her husband and put a hand against his back while speaking. ¡°Yes. This is no longer only about him. Were this an isolated situation, I would have said kill him the moment he showed his face. As you say, this is about our reputation. If others were to learn that we refused to honor the deal we made, we could very well lose our grip. Having control over this city is not something to take lightly, and if some of the people on the edges of that control were to learn that our word cannot be trusted, it could be disastrous. Which is a problem that would have spread through the entire city very quickly. We told him the price and he paid it. In the future, we will simply need to be a little more specific about limitations.¡±


    There was silence between them for a moment, as Sterling considered his next words carefully before turning to face his wife. His hand moved to cup the side of her face gently. ¡°Innocents have died before, many times under our watch and in response to our words. I can¡¯t exactly say why this one bothers me as much as it does. But I know this is not why I wanted to create the Ministry, not why I wanted to do any of this.¡±


    Elena spoke sympathetically, leaning her face against her husband¡¯s hand. ¡°It¡¯s a very harsh cost. Honoring your word is not always the easiest thing. But our word is all that we have in this situation. We both know that if word were to get out that he paid his dues, met our request, and we refused to honor it, our entire system could be disrupted. There are very bad people in this city who do as we say, and allow us to maintain some level of control, specifically because they know that our word can be trusted. Which goes both ways. When we tell them no, they understand that there is no arguing against that. But when we give them a price and they pay it, we are beholden to our word.¡±


    Offering her a soft smile, Sterling replied, ¡°You keep talking about keeping our word and honoring the deal. But I know you don¡¯t like this any more than I do. I know you, Love. You are as angry about what that man did to get the money as I am. And you know as well as I do that we didn¡¯t even need the cash itself. This was a terrible deal on all fronts. Those people¡­ there was no need for them to die.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Elena confirmed, ¡°I don¡¯t like it, and I wish it was different. That man can burn in hell for all I care about his future. As I said, were it entirely up to me and I allowed my emotions to take control, I would have told Simon to put a bullet in his head the moment he showed himself at the meeting.¡± She paused then before adding, ¡°Or simply allowed Paintball and his companion to take him. Problematic as that would have been.¡± She sighed heavily. ¡°But it is not about him. It is about everyone in the city who would react poorly to the Ministry breaking an agreement.¡±


    ¡°He shouldn¡¯t even have known about us,¡± Sterling pointed out before turning to look out the window once more. ¡°The cop who let him know how to contact us in the first place, his name is Aemon Kraft. I want a message sent to him. He is not to give that information to anyone else.¡±


    Touching her fingers to his chest, Elena arched an eyebrow. ¡°Do you want him to receive a message, or be a message?¡±


    The impulse to answer immediately was strong, but Sterling restrained himself. Closing his mouth, he turned back to look out the window once more. A few seconds of silence passed before he spoke, but even then his words did not address the question directly. Rather, he quietly started with, ¡°Do you remember when I Touched, back before any of us had a firm idea of what that meant? You and I were together, in that motel where we knew your father wouldn¡¯t be able to find us, and we spent¡­ we spent hours sitting in that room, just working out what I could do. My shapes were smaller then. I made you a metal pony, then said I was sorry it wasn¡¯t big enough for you to ride. But you said that you didn¡¯t need a pony, because with the power that I had, we were going to ride that all the way to the top.¡±


    ¡°I remember,¡± Elena confirmed quietly while tenderly running her hand along his arm. ¡°And I remember that we spoke for a long time about what that meant. We saw other people with powers, some becoming heroes, some becoming villains.¡±


    ¡°And we talked about which one I should be,¡± Sterling finished for her. ¡°We had a list and everything. Pros and cons for both sides.¡± He smirked a bit, dropping his gaze. ¡°Seems so quaint now.¡±


    ¡°As I recall,¡± Elena murmured while sliding her hand down to take his gently, ¡°we were discussing whether joining the burgeoning heroes or villains would most help us handle my father. Because whatever we wanted to become would never matter as long as he was around.¡±


    Sterling gave a short nod of agreement, his eyes darkening a bit at the memory of that man and the long shadow he had cast over both Detroit itself and their lives. ¡°It really wouldn¡¯t have. He¡¯d never leave us alone, and with the resources he had¡­¡± Swallowing a bit, he put his free hand against the glass of the window while squeezing his wife¡¯s hand with the other. ¡°That was why we decided to be both, to point the villains and the heroes at his organization from different sides.¡±


    ¡°Not the entire thing,¡± Elena pointed out. ¡°Just the people we couldn¡¯t turn to our side. The ones most loyal to my father. We had to remove them, or at least blunt their influence and power. We had to isolate him and create that vulnerability. And we never could have done it by ourselves, or even by siding with the heroes or the villains. We needed both of them, both sides of the law working together to break his organization while making sure there was enough left to use afterward, enough to build up from. We used both sides, even if they didn¡¯t know they were working together. Different targets, different times, different methods. The heroes made their arrests, the villains claimed their territory, and Father¡¯s organization was being hit from too many sides and angles for him to react. He was too mired in his ways, too accustomed to how it had always been. He couldn¡¯t adapt to Touched emerging.¡±


    ¡°And when we were done with that,¡± Sterling noted, ¡°when we drove your father out of the city and took control of his organization, it felt natural to just keep doing what had gotten us so far to begin with. Instead of choosing between being heroes or villains, we became both. We sat in the middle, directing things, building a network, a web that was even more ingrained in the city than your father¡¯s. We are both sides. Even if those sides are diametrically opposed.¡±


    He was quiet for a moment, but Elena didn¡¯t speak up. She gave him time to work his way through his thoughts until the man finally exhaled. ¡°I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to be Silversmith and nothing more than that. I think I could be proud of that.¡±


    ¡°But?¡± Elena prompted after a moment, hearing that unspoken word at the end of his sentence.


    ¡°But,¡± he replied, ¡°I would be Silversmith in a very different city. Without the Ministry directing things, I truly believe this city would be in a much worse position than it is. We do allow crime to happen, but it is controlled. It is guided. If we did not do what we do, this city would have been a free-for-all for the past twenty years. You¡¯ve seen what happened in other cities that were in our position. You saw what happened to Atlanta. They had the opportunity to rise or fall like we did, and they fell. Last I heard, the city was divided between five different warlords and their Conservator team can barely keep up with the absolute worst of the problems. It¡¯s utter chaos in that city. I won¡¯t let Detroit become another Atlanta.¡±


    ¡°Even if it means you can¡¯t just be the shining hero?¡± Elena murmured softly, leaning in to put her arm around him from behind as she kissed his shoulder while the two of them stood in front of the window.


    Sterling gave a slight nod. ¡°Even if it means I can¡¯t just be the shining hero. Still, sometimes it¡¯s hard to separate the two. I am Silversmith, leader of the Detroit Conservators. And Minister Gold. Some people I save, and others¡­ others die because of the crime that I allow to happen. I might as well have killed them myself. I¨C¡± He cut himself off from going down that road and sighed. ¡°You¡¯d think that after two decades it would be impossible to feel guilty about that anymore.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re human,¡± Elena reminded him. ¡°Whatever being Touched has done to us, it hasn¡¯t changed that. And you¡¯re not a monster. You¡¯re right, people do suffer and die because of the choices we make. But if we did not make those choices, if we were not here, it¡¯s exactly as you said, the city would be worse.¡±


    She continued after leaning up closer to him. ¡°And if we didn¡¯t allow crime, if we tried to stop it entirely instead of simply controlling and directing it, the city would explode. Like a pressure cooker with no vent or safety valve. We would be in the same position as Atlanta. Our city would not have advanced nearly as much as it has. Yes, we have done some bad things, arguably unforgivable things. But I believe the city would be worse without the Ministry.¡±


    Taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, Sterling finally spoke again. ¡°We¡¯re not exactly suffering either. We have made a very good living in this position. Our actions, our choices don¡¯t come from some altruistic position. We¡¯ve helped make Detroit what it is, and we built an empire in the process, out of the groundwork laid by your father. It¡¯s just that¡­ there are days, like this one, when I see the unnecessary mess created by that¡­ piece of shit, and I just wish that all I had to do was bring him in. Or make sure no one ever sees him again.¡±


    ¡°That latter option is not exactly the hero way,¡± Elena gently pointed out.


    With a nod, Sterling turned from the window, gathering her up against himself. ¡°You¡¯re right, but as we¡¯ve established, I¡¯m not really the sort of hero who always plays by the rules and lets the bad guys go back to a nice prison cell.¡±


    Producing his phone once more, the man hit a button on it and waited with it held to his ear. After a few seconds, he spoke. ¡°Z. Luciano Munoz made himself into a problem. He caused a scene, drew attention. I¡¯m going to give you an address. It¡¯s out of the city. Get him out of there, take him somewhere and dump the body. Make it look like a robbery he fought back against. No trace of you, no trace of any Touched involvement. No, he doesn¡¯t need to disappear. He needs to be found, so his victims get closure. But¡­ maybe let it take a few days. Yes, that sounds right. And Z¡­ thank you.¡±


    Disconnecting, he hit another button and was immediately connected to someone else. ¡°Patience, it¡¯s Gold. Lieutenant Aemon Kraft, the cop who sent Munoz our way. No, he doesn¡¯t need to die. But I want you to make it clear that he is not to tell anyone else about our business without permission, no matter his reasoning. And Patience¡­ make sure he understands the message.¡±


    Both calls done, he put the phone away and looked back to his wife. ¡°You disagree with removing Munoz?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she replied, shaking her head. ¡°I have no love or like for that man. He deserves what he gets. But does that make you feel any better right now?¡±


    Considering that for a moment, Sterling finally shrugged. ¡°Ask me again after it¡¯s done. And maybe not. Maybe ordering the death of that man won¡¯t make me feel better about the lives he ruined or our own part in it. Maybe him dying won¡¯t solve anything.


    ¡°But I¡¯ll tell you this much. I sure as hell won¡¯t lose any sleep over it.¡±

 Interlude 21B - Setrea

    A deafening barrage of three shotgun blasts in rapid succession filled the previously silent night air. The cacophonous booms rebounded off the nearby surrounding alley walls, sending their destructive thunder out into the city street beyond, like heralds trumpeting the utter annihilation of whatever poor soul had been unfortunate enough to be in the path of that weapon.


    And yet, the ¡®poor soul¡¯ in question stood entirely unfazed by the trio of solid slugs that had been intended to tear through her. Well, not stood, exactly. Rather, she continued sprinting forward, taking all three shots without blinking before she managed to grab hold of the extended shotgun and rip it away from its wielder. At the same time, her foot lashed out to slam into the man¡¯s stomach with enough force to send him to the ground in a heap.


    After considering the shotgun for a brief moment, the blonde woman, known as Grandstand to the public, tossed it aside with a grunt of disgust. It fell into a nearby pile of trash that sent dust out over the polished boots of her ringmaster costume, which she flicked off with a contemptuous snap of her foot. Then she stared down at the man. He was a white guy in his mid-thirties, wearing old army clothes from a military surplus store. Which fit with the camouflage-painted shotgun he¡¯d been using and had almost killed her with rather than answer her questions. Had she not summoned her new Manifestation of Deunmar in that instant, giving herself two seconds of total invulnerability, that blast really would have killed her. All because this dipshit didn¡¯t want to talk to her.


    Before he could recover, she kicked him again, this time in the shoulder. ¡°How about we try that entire conversation again. Hi, how are you? My name¡¯s Grandstand, so nice to¨C¡± Without warning, she reared back and lashed out with a hard kick to the face that made his head snap back, a yowl of pain escaping him. ¡°¨Cmeet you!¡±


    ¡°Oww, fuck!¡± The man recoiled, falling against the nearby alley wall as he stared up at her. ¡°How the fuck did you do that? You¡¯re not supposed to be invulnerable. That ain¡¯t your powers! If I can see you, I can shoot you. I shot you! I fucking know I did! How the fuck¨Cwhat did¨Cwhat?!¡± He was sputtering, pressing his back against the wall.


    He wasn¡¯t wrong as far as that went. She really shouldn¡¯t have been able to make herself invulnerable. And, up until very recently, she couldn¡¯t. Her powers were derived not from these ¡®orbs¡¯ as everyone on this world thought, but from the ability to manifest different heroic avatars from her own world. Well, two avatars now. It had been one before. She¡¯d been able to Manifest the avatar of Alistae, giving herself enhanced speed for everyone whose attention she shifted away from herself and enhanced strength for everyone whose attention she shifted toward herself. Now she could also Manifest Deunmar to give herself a very brief window of invulnerability. A couple seconds at most.


    But of course, this guy didn¡¯t know anything about that. She didn¡¯t exactly go around advertising the fact that she was from another world. As far as everyone around here knew, she was just another normal Earth human who had gotten powers by touching a glowing orb. And while it was possible to touch another orb and either switch up or add to your powers, that was rare enough that this guy¡¯s confusion was understandable.


    What was not understandable was the fact that even while he was sitting there with the woman standing over him, he was still trying to get out of talking to her. Specifically, his hand was groping down to grab for something in his pocket. And that something almost certainly wouldn¡¯t be good for her. Especially given she couldn¡¯t Manifest her invulnerability for a few more seconds.


    Grandstand didn¡¯t let the man get very far. Her foot went down against his groin with just enough force to let him know that she could have done a lot of damage if she wanted to. Holding it there while his eyes widened, she spoke flatly. ¡°Bring it out with two fingers, and just know that if I don¡¯t like what you¡¯re doing with it, you can say goodbye to your best friend.¡±


    There was a very brief pause before the man gave a reluctant sigh and used two fingers to pull out a closed flip phone, one of the old kinds that could take a real pounding.


    ¡°Aww, for me?¡± Grandstand kept her foot where it was while reaching down to take the phone from his fingers. ¡°Let me guess, you were about to tell me the address of the guy I¡¯m looking for, but it¡¯s in here so you had to look it up.¡± Her tone was sweetly dangerous, making it clear she didn¡¯t believe a word of it, but was giving him an out.


    ¡°Look, bitch,¡± the man snapped, though his tone turned slightly more pleasant (and strained) when she reacted by gently pushing her foot down against his crotch. ¡°I know you¡¯re looking for Miles Boyd. Everyone knows that. The whole fucking city knows you blew off your boss so you could tear the city apart looking for that fuck. But I can¡¯t tell you where he is. Sandon¡¯s scarier than you are on your best day. She wears people¡¯s fucking bones against her skin, man! You know that shit, right? If there¡¯s a super strong person anywhere in the state, she tracks them down and takes a bone. She wears a fucking full body suit of bones under that costume. That¡¯s some real psycho shit right there, okay? She says don¡¯t tell you where Miles is, so I can¡¯t fucking tell you where Miles is! You wanna argue with that, talk to her! Not me, her!¡±


    Regarding him for a moment, Grandstand considered her next move. Or rather, Setrea did. Was she even Grandstand anymore? Yes, because Cu¨¦lebre didn¡¯t own the name, he didn¡¯t own her identity any more than he owned her. And while she did feel a pang of regret for abandoning him to pursue her vendetta, it wasn¡¯t enough to make her give that up.


    Shaking those thoughts off, she focused on the man literally (for a part of himself anyway) under her foot. Then she flipped the phone open and glanced through the contact list. All very mundane names, incredibly generic. Obviously fake. She was willing to bet that Miles¡¯ number was somewhere in there, but she didn¡¯t have time to try each one.


    So, Setrea took a breath to collect herself and consider. When she spoke, her voice cracked slightly before she got it under control. ¡°Listen to¡­ listen to me very carefully. I¡¯m going to take this phone and you¡¯re going to tell me which of these coded contacts is the one you¡¯ve been using to talk to Miles. And I know you¡¯ve been talking to him.¡± Before the man could do more than open his mouth to protest, she pressed on pointedly. ¡°After you give me the contact number, you are going to get the hell out of town.¡± Her free hand dipped into her pocket, producing a store-bought Visa card, which she dropped on his chest. ¡°There¡¯s five thousand dollars on that, and the pin is one, two, three, four. Get the hell out of town, out of the state. Start up somewhere else. You¡¯ve got no family here, I did my homework on that. Get home to that shitty apartment with the green window shades, throw whatever shit isn¡¯t worthless and broken in that beat-up Mazda, and get the fuck out of here. Use the card to get yourself to a new city and set up there. Do whatever, go wherever. But if you stick around here, Sandon and I will just have to see which one of us you should be more afraid of. And whoever the winner of that is, I guarantee you¡¯ll be the loser.¡± She pressed her foot down a bit more firmly. ¡°The number, now.¡±


    ¡°But how do I know if¨C¡± the man started before his words turned to a sharp yelp when she pushed her foot down. ¡°Okay, okay, he¡¯s in there as Guy Long. You know, Miles Boyd¡­ Miles is Long and Boyd like boy for G¨C¡±


    ¡°I get the concept,¡± Setrea interrupted sharply before stepping back. She heard the audible gasp of relief the man let out when she took her foot off his crotch and smirked faintly before  reaching down to yank him to his feet a bit roughly. ¡°Now get out of here. Do what I said. And Kurt?¡± She pointedly said his name to make it clear that she knew who he was, as if her bit about his apartment and car wasn¡¯t enough. ¡°If I find out you called Miles again, or your boss, or anyone else in your little gang¡­ you know I can find you. And next time¡­¡± She narrowed her eyes, glaring down at him. ¡°Next time my foot will go a lot further.¡±


    Kurt gave a quick, longing look toward his shotgun, but gave up the thought of retrieving it when she cleared her throat. He was pivoting on his feet a moment later, sprinting out of the alley.


    Setrea let him go, figuring it was about a fifty-fifty shot whether he would grow the balls to ignore her warning and contact Miles or one of the others anyway. But that was fine, she¡¯d already deposited a tracking and listening bug inside his jacket when she hauled him up, so she¡¯d be able to find him if he went anywhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to, and monitor what he said through her own earbud.


    Whether through Kurt or the phone she had taken off him, she was going to find Miles Boyd. And through him, she would find the person responsible for Jolene Iverson¡¯s death.


    ******


    Somewhat to her surprise, Kurt had actually listened to her orders. As far as she could tell through monitoring his movements and having the bug let her know whenever he said anything, he had gone to his apartment, packed his shit, and was on his way out of town. Of course, that still meant that the moment of truth was yet to come. Would he call to warn Miles or any of his old Ninety-Niner buddies before taking off? The closer the little dot on her phone app got to the edge of town, the more confident Setrea became that he wouldn¡¯t be able to resist the urge.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Still, she wasn¡¯t just going to wait around for that. While keeping half an eye (and ear) on Kurt¡¯s situation, she had kept herself busy using the number he¡¯d pointed out as belonging to Miles himself. She didn¡¯t call it, of course. That would have been a good way to make the annoyingly slippery asshole ditch his phone entirely and take off. Instead, she had called an entirely different number, one belonging to¡­ not quite a friend, but someone who owed her a favor. He had been reluctant to speak to her given the whole being on the outs with Cu¨¦lebre thing, but a few sharp words about what she had done for him in the past brought the man around and made him pay attention. From there, it had taken him only about ten minutes to use Miles¡¯ number to track his phone to its current location. Specifically, a storage facility near a highway overpass, in one of the worst parts of the city that was still within Ninety-Niner territory.


    Given how long the signal had been relatively stationary there (it moved around slightly now and then) either Miles was having a hard time figuring out how to store his old clothes and books, or that was his hideout.


    So there she was, parked in a small alley across the street from the storage facility itself, considering her options. This Miles guy was important enough to the Ninety-Niners that they refused to let her even talk to him. Mostly because of his brother, Jailtime. The fact that his brother was a Touched gave Miles himself a lot of protection, apparently. Jailtime didn¡¯t want his brother to be forced to talk to her, and that was that. At least as far as they were concerned.


    But was that enough to extend to giving the man extra protection beyond just a place to hide out while they waited for her to give up or be stopped in some other way? As much as she wanted to be done with this part by just slamming her way in there to smack answers out of the shitheel, it would be too easy to walk into a trap.


    She couldn¡¯t use her Manifestations constantly, or switch between them instantly. Setrea had learned that shortly after acquiring the second one. Whenever she used Alistae, the ¡®attention controlling¡¯ Manifestation, Deunmar went onto a brief cooldown of about five seconds. Using Deunmar, on the other hand, gave Alistae a three second cooldown. Pretty quick, but still a bit of a pause. Between that and the twenty second cooldown Deunmar went into once she used his two seconds of invulnerability, there was a bit of a balancing act to be had.


    So it was a good thing she was great at balancing.


    With those thoughts in mind, Setrea stepped off the motorcycle and took one step toward the exit of the alley. In mid-motion, however, she pivoted, hand snapping up with a pistol as she pointed it at the figure who had emerged from the nearby doorway.


    ¡°Gonna shoot me, Stand?¡± the man in the red leather trenchcoat, black body armor, and crimson welding mask demanded. ¡°I mean, I knew you were never really one of us, considering you¡¯re not even Latina. But I didn¡¯t think you were that much of a traitor.¡±


    Grimacing, Setrea kept the gun pointed that way. Not that it would do much if the man activated the super-heated forcefield that made him invulnerable and allowed him to melt his way through anything in his path. ¡°Coverfire, how did you track me down here?¡± Immediately, she realized, ¡°You didn¡¯t. You just knew where he was and waited.¡±


    ¡°Not just him.¡± The new voice came from the roof of the nearby building, as Yahui perched there. The woman¡¯s power allowed her to transform any of her body parts into the parts of any animal, including the ability to mix and match herself into horrific chimera forms. In this case, her feet were enormous bird talons, her body was the armored hide of a crocodile, one arm was a long cobra snake that hissed and snapped at the air while the other was the muscular, furred arm of a gorilla, and her head was that of a Siberian tiger. A pair of massive wings were just tucking in against her back. How she managed to get a body like that off the ground to fly as well as she did had always confused Setrea, but it worked somehow.


    Looking that way, the blonde woman narrowed her eyes, attention flicking back and forth between the two of them. ¡°No Cu¨¦lebre?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s busy,¡± came the retort from Yahui. ¡°Had to go out of town for a little bit to do a recruitment run. You know, since you decided to fuck us over. You know the Niners are talking about dropping our alliance because of you?¡±


    ¡°If they dropped the alliance, they¡¯ll have to deal with La Casa and the Easy Eights without Oscuro help,¡± Setrea pointed out flatly. ¡°There¡¯s no way Jailtime or his Prev brother is worth that much to Sandon. He¡¯s useful, but he¡¯s not that useful.¡±


    Coverfire snorted in disbelief. ¡°He shuts down all movement powers that he doesn¡¯t want people using in a fight and he can grab enemies and just punt them to his little private prison bullshit. Hell, if it comes down to it, he can extract the rest of the team the same way. In what reality is that not useful enough to keep him happy? And letting you go kick the shit out of his brother isn¡¯t gonna keep him happy.¡±


    Setrea heaved a heavy sigh. ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, I just wanted to talk to him. He has information I need, and if he just told me what it was, this would all be over. It didn¡¯t need to escalate like this.¡±


    ¡°And you should¡¯ve listened when the boss said no,¡± Coverfire informed her. ¡°You know how shitty things have been lately. First we lose Handler cuz he¡¯s a fucking dipshit who got ideas above his place. The dude was doing just fine recruiting and training frontline nobodies, but he had to try to grab a Touched. Not just a Touched, a fucking little kid Touched. That¡¯s over the line. If he wasn¡¯t already dead, I¡¯d put him in the ground myself. So that¡¯s bad enough. But now you take off, and fuck us over with our allies in the same move?¡±


    ¡°Not cool, Grandstand,¡± Yahui put in, her voice dark. Some people had told Setrea that it sounded odd to hear the woman¡¯s normal voice coming from random animal heads, but she wasn¡¯t bothered by it. Maybe because it reminded her of the Marked, people from her own world who were descendants of humans who were mutated into animal forms and had become a race all of their own.


    ¡°She was my friend,¡± Setrea informed the two of them sharply. ¡°That guy in there knows something about who killed my friend. She was my only friend for a long time. She helped me when I didn¡¯t have anybody. Now she¡¯s dead, and I¡¯m going to find out who killed her. Whatever it takes, whoever I have to go through, I¡¯m going to get answers. You say I¡¯m a traitor, but the way I see it, I¡¯m being loyal to the person who needs it the most, because she can¡¯t defend herself anymore.¡±


    A long moment of silence followed her words, as the other two exchanged looks. Then Yahui hopped down from the roof, landing on the pavement smoothly before pointing. ¡°There¡¯s her bike. She can¡¯t be far.¡±


    ¡°What¨C¡± Coverfire started to blurt in confusion before catching the woman¡¯s eye. He paused for about two seconds before inclining his head as though in realization. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s gotta be around here somewhere. Get high, see if you can find her. We¡¯ll¡­ call our buddies inside if we don¡¯t see her in ninety seconds.¡±


    They were giving her a chance, Setrea realized. They were deliberately pretending that she had used her power to divert their attention away from her. Which she hadn¡¯t, but they were using that as an excuse to give her an opening to get inside. Ninety seconds. They were giving her ninety seconds before they called in a warning.


    Before that realization had even fully settled in her mind, she was off and sprinting. A quick glance at her phone showed that Miles¡¯ signal hadn¡¯t changed. She knew exactly what unit he was in. A few people near the front office looked her way, but she instantly shifted their attention away and used the resulting speed boost to move even faster.


    Her mental count had reached about forty-five seconds by the time she reached the rolling, garage-style door of the storage unit in question. Miles¡¯ phone was directly on the other side. Setrea extended a hand with the same gun that she had pointed at Coverfire moments earlier. A single squeeze of the trigger resulted in a sound about as loud as a cough, even as the spot where the door¡¯s lock was burst apart. With that catching the attention of whoever was inside, she focused on shifting that attention away from her. An instant later, she grabbed the handle and hauled the door up, already pointing the weapon inside, directly at the spot where the phone was.


    The small space was set up like a miniature apartment living room or something, complete with a couch facing a television where some sci fi movie was playing. Miles was right there in front of the couch. She recognized him from several pictures, a skinny guy, just under six feet tall with a mangy-looking beard. He was on his feet, though he looked confused as to why, thanks to her attention-diverting power.


    An instant later, Setrea was in front of him. She released her Manifestation while simultaneously smacking the man in the face with her pistol. Not hard enough to break anything, but definitely enough to get his attention, power or no power.


    As the blow knocked him back down onto the couch, his gaze snapped to her, curse escaping him. ¡°Fuck! Ow, what the¨Cyou¨Cyou¨C¡± Scrambling backward a bit, he reached for the gun on the nearby table, but stopped when she leveled her own weapon at him. ¡°My brother finds out what you¡¯re doing right now, he¡¯ll be pissed the fuck off!¡±


    Stepping that way, Setrea pressed the pistol to his forehead. ¡°Would you rather he be mad because I hit you in the face, or because I shot you between the eyes?¡±


    The man froze, seeming to consider that for a second before exhaling. ¡°Fine, fine, but I can¡¯t tell you what you wanna know, man. I can¡¯t tell you who hired us to do the run against that reporter lady cuz I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°You know something about it,¡± Setrea insisted, pressing the pistol hard enough against his forehead to make the man flinch. ¡°Something good enough to make me not pull this trigger.¡± She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. He knew something.


    The man still caged a bit, clearly not wanting to give it up. Finally, he exhaled. ¡°Fuck, god damn¨Cfine. But you ain¡¯t gonna like it. Look, when we were making sure everything was good to go, just before that reporter left the station, I was on the phone with the guy, the one who set it up. Or girl, I don¡¯t fucking know. They were using a voice changer, so that¡¯s no good. But the point is, I was on the phone with them to make sure we had the green light. We had to speak in code and shit, you know, like spy stuff. Their idea. Anyway, I was just finding out if the eagle was leaving the nest or whatever when I heard that chick say she was ready to go. Like, through the phone connection.¡±


    ¡°That chick? What chick?¡± Setrea frowned. Her time was up, it was time to get out of here.


    ¡°Iverson,¡± came the response. ¡°The reporter lady herself. Trust me, I memorized her voice. She came up and said she was ready to go. Like, either to the person I was talking to or to someone right next to them. As in the people escorting her out of there.


    ¡°So you wanna find out who was responsible for Iverson¡¯s death, check the fucking Star-Touched who were with her when it happened.¡±

 Dig In 22-01

    With the deafening roar of a powerful engine revving to its greatest heights, and the squeal of protesting tires, a sleek silver and red semi-truck with attached trailer went screaming around the corner of an intersection. Several people who had been moving through the crosswalk were forced to jump out of the way, and the one who didn¡¯t quite look up in time was hit by a blob of red paint before being yanked toward a nearby building with a matching splotch just before he would have been run down.


    That was me, of course. Err, not the man or the truck that almost ran him over. The red paint came from my outstretched hand, just before I landed on top of the semi¡¯s trailer. A bit of red paint against the bottom of my shoes helped keep me locked to it, even as I dropped into a crouch and looked back the way I had come after leaping from the nearby building in the midst of chasing this damn truck.


    Instantly, I saw her. Angel Dust, one of the Easy Eights¡¯ lieutenants. She came flying around the corner, looking like some sort of warrior angel. She wore glowing crimson and bronze Roman-style armor with broad angelic wings, a halo, and a massive sword that looked like it was almost as tall as the woman herself. Her face was covered by an ornate crimson helmet with a bronze metal mask. And yes, all of that, wings, halo, helmet, everything, was glowing.


    That was her power. She generated this stuff that she called pixie dust. For her, it turned into her weapons, her armor, even wings that actually let her fly. Meanwhile, for everyone else, it¡­ did a lot of different things, depending on what color dust she used. Some colors made people strong, or boosted their speed, or made them brave/afraid, made them sick, made their powers stronger temporarily, and so on and so forth.


    So yeah, she was similar to me in some regards. Different color stuff had different effects. I was actually a little surprised it had taken this long for me to have an encounter with her. But what an encounter it was turning out to be. If I survived the next few minutes with all my limbs intact, I was definitely going to put some research to find out more about this chick. Like any weaknesses, that would definitely be the first thing I googled. I would have done it right then, but I had the feeling she wouldn¡¯t accept any request for a quick five minute time-out.


    Sure enough, even as my gaze found the incoming winged-figure as she flew into view, she was already throwing her hand out to send a cloud of sickly green dust toward me. At least that one I knew. That was the one that made people nauseous. I¡¯d had an up-close look at the effect mere minutes earlier when Alloy had been unfortunate enough to be hit by it. That was why she wasn¡¯t here with me right this second. Hopefully, she would catch up once she managed to pull herself together. I really wasn¡¯t going to fault her for needing to catch her breath. And maybe grab a bit of water to rinse her mouth out.


    Either way, for the moment, I was on my own. Which meant I really couldn¡¯t risk being hit by the sick dust myself. I had no desire to throw up inside my helmet, and less desire to let this truck get away.


    Hold on. No, reverse those. Maybe it was unfair, but I was pretty sure I would rather have let the bad guys escape with this truck than throw up in my helmet. That just sounded unbelievably gross. As I was sure Alloy would agree.


    The second I saw the incoming dust, I was already launching myself up and sideways off the moving truck with some blue paint. In mid-air, I snapped the command to make the wheels pop out of my Wren-provided pace-skates. And thanks to that whole Wren bit, I was abruptly skating along the side of the nearby building. Without missing a beat, I took off, skating sideways while Angel Dust adjusted her aim. But that time it wasn¡¯t the sick-making light green dust she sent toward me. Instead, a bright, almost painfully neon red dust came rushing through the air. It was clearly aimed at the spot where I would be in an instant, so I did the best thing I could think of at that moment. I used yellow paint on myself to arrest my momentum. Abruptly, I was going half as fast as I had been an instant earlier. So that neon red dust hit the side of the building in front of me. It immediately transformed into this sticky gooey stuff, like thick tar. Yeah, if I had been hit by that, I wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere very fast.


    Canceling the yellow paint¡¯s effect, I snapped my hand out and shot red paint toward a traffic light in the distance, using a mixture of that and another bit of blue to throw myself off the wall. As soon as I had momentum in that direction, I canceled the red paint too, flipping through the air before landing on top of a raised billboard. At the end of the next block, the truck was already starting to turn another corner. Meanwhile, Angel Dust was swooping in close. The air around her was filled with a mixture of the light green sick dust and the neon red tar dust. It didn¡¯t affect her at all, simply swirling around in a rapid cloud. If I let her get close to me and actually engaged in any sort of melee combat, it would last about half a second before I would be trapped by what was essentially a giant wad of used gum, throwing up the last four meals I¡¯d had.


    Needless to say, that didn¡¯t exactly sound like a good time to me. So, I made sure I wasn¡¯t there for her to get close to. Activating long green lightning bolts that I had put along both legs to speed myself up, I leapt from the streetlight, dropping to the roof of a passing van while retracting my skates. On the way down, I shot a puddle of blue right where I was landing, immediately launching myself forward to a moving truck that was coming from the other direction. My aim was perfect, as I twisted myself sideways to run along the side of that truck from front to back. This truck was driving down the road while I ran alongside it in the opposite direction. Reaching the end while the driver leaned on his horn, I then flipped over sideways to land on the hood of a taxi that was actually heading the way I needed to go. Namely, after the disappearing semi. This was too important for me to let that thing get away, even if Angel Dust was a giant pain in the ass. And I knew something about pains in the ass. I was just usually on the other side of it.


    Using a shot of red paint against the top of a passing pickup truck, I called back over my shoulder, ¡°No thanks, I don¡¯t feel like being raptured right now! Come back in a few years!¡± Even as the words left my mouth, I was already letting the paint yank me over to the other vehicle. But I didn¡¯t cling to it, instead simply dashing along the top of the truck cab before flinging myself off that as well. My feet smacked down against a blue-painted spot on the edge of the large metal roof covering a bus stop, propelling me a good twenty feet into the air. The height and momentum brought me far enough to land on the corner of a drug store roof, and I was able to dive into a slide to carry me behind the nearby air conditioning unit an instant before a new spray of tar dust covered the thing.


    Yeah, I couldn¡¯t stay here for long. But before I could push myself up to keep going, the woman herself landed just ahead of me, about twenty feet away. Yeah, she was right there.


    ¡°Damn flying people,¡± I found myself blurting while springing back to my feet, my eyes locked on her for the very instant she tried to throw more of that dust at me. Or stepped closer, given she still had the mix of green and red swirling around her like an angry, festive swarm of hornets. ¡°You should run, jump, and yank yourself through the air on invisible tractor beams like a good, upstanding paint-citizen.¡± I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, exactly. But then, I often didn¡¯t fully understand what I was saying. The words just came out.


    It also gave me a chance to get a better, up-close look at the woman herself. That red helmet and bronze mask covered every bit of her expression. Even her eyes, given there were no holes for them in the metal mask part. There was a shape for her eyes, along with one for her nose and mouth, but it was all solid metal. I thought I could read amusement in her body language, but couldn¡¯t be sure.


    Actually, come to think of it, she really was like a mixture between Alloy and me. Her dust powers could make different effects, like my paint. But she also formed it into armor, tools, and other objects like Alloy did. Was there some sort of conspiracy out there about the two of us being her siblings or something? Cuz that seemed like the sort of idea that would gain traction pretty quick.


    The woman¡¯s expression was hidden by that bronze mask, but I could hear her chuckle quietly before speaking up. ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m not really the type to limit myself. Gotta use every advantage you have, you know?¡± Even as she said that, the woman split that giant sword she was holding down into a pair of heavy flails, then started to swing them around almost lazily. ¡°And I can¡¯t let you get to that truck. But you know, if you want to call it a day, we can be done with all this. I certainly won¡¯t tell anybody.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    I knew what she was doing. She was buying time for that truck to get even further away. Her goons from the Easy Eights had stolen it and now they were going to get away unless I got past her. Grimacing, I shook my head. ¡°Yeah, sorry, unless you can show a receipt for everything on that truck, I think I¡¯m gonna have to take it back.¡±


    Still swinging those flails around almost lazily, clearly in no hurry, the woman drawled, ¡°Gonna make a move then, Paintboy? Cuz from where I¡¯m sitting, you¡¯re a bit too far back to matter.¡±


    Raising one shoulder in a casual shrug, I replied, ¡°Sure you don¡¯t want to make the first move? I mean, you are the bad guy. Err, girl.¡± As I spoke, my head tilted a little to the side for a moment, making sure the motion was visible before I turned my attention back to her. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t wanna be rude or anything.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Angel Dust lunged toward me. In that moment, I used blue paint that I had already put on the bottom of my shoes to launch myself backwards and up over the street, flipping over in the air before landing on top of a billboard advertising insurance. Then I stopped, waiting for the woman.


    She, in turn, came up short just in front of me. I could hear the frown in her voice. ¡°You¡¯re not trying to get to the truck. You¡¯re just stalling me.¡± The realization came on instant later, as she abruptly inverted in the air, those wings spreading out. ¡°The armored girl.¡± With that, she was suddenly flying as fast as she could away from me.


    ¡°Hey, hold on!¡± I shouted, cursing loudly before springing after the woman. My hand shot out, sending a spray of yellow that missed her as she rolled to one side in the air. At the same time, my other hand sent out a shot of red that hit a building to pull me after her. ¡°Don¡¯t you wanna play some more?!¡±


    She distractedly sent a cloud of that puking dust back toward me, but I easily avoided the stuff by letting myself drop under it (with a bit of help from green to speed up the process) before another quick shot of red called me toward the open window of an apartment building. From the corner of my eye, I could see Angel Dust flying up and over it. But I went straight through the window, shooting through feet first before landing smoothly in the middle of what looked like a kitchen. A guy was there, reading something on his tablet while stirring coffee. As soon as I landed a few feet away from him, he yelped out a curse.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry!¡± I called out while sprinting out of the room and to the front door of his apartment. ¡°Emergency!¡± Then I was out the door and into the outside stairwell. A woman just ahead of me was opening her apartment door with an armload of groceries, so I sped myself up with some green paint, reaching her an instant later.


    ¡°Evening, ma¡¯am,¡± I blurted, ¡°Let me help you with that.¡± A moment later, I had the heavy bags of groceries in my arms while my foot nudged the door the rest of the way open. In what felt like a blur of motion, I raced through her apartment, setting the grocery bags neatly on the table before hurling myself out the back window on the opposite side of the building from where I had gone in. On the way out, I called back, ¡°Have a nice day!¡±


    With that little trick, I managed to dive out the window mere moments after Angel Dust had cleared the roof. I could see her ahead of me, swooping to the right to go between a narrow gap between two buildings. Immediately, I used a shot of red paint at a nearby telephone pole to yank myself that way, hitting it with blue on the way so that I could flip over and hit the spot with my feet to be launched after the flying woman. One more shot of red pulled me the rest of the way to one of those buildings she had just flown between. Then I was running along the side of it for several steps before popping my skates and activating another spot of green across my shoulders.


    She saw me coming, apparently. Because just before clearing the gap between the buildings ahead of me, Angel Dust sent a cloud of orange dust back toward the spot where I was about to be. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what that color did, but I was willing to bet it wouldn¡¯t make me invulnerable like my own orange. So, I used blue on my shoes to launch myself sideways off that wall and toward the opposite building. On the way, a quick shot of pink hit the spot where I was about to hit, and I instantly canceled it, turning that spot incredibly bouncy. My feet hit it, and the wall literally indented a good four feet before snapping back into place to send me flying forward and back to the first building, just ahead of that orange cloud. On the way, I couldn¡¯t resist the loud whoop that escaped me. Probably unnecessary, but I was only human.


    I used that trick a couple more times, ping-ponging my way to the end of the gap between the buildings to avoid the shots that Angel Dust kept sending back toward me. She was distracted, not really paying too much attention beyond wanting to slow me down while she raced to catch up with the truck. On the way, she called back, ¡°It was a nice plan, Paintboy! Distract me while your little friend recovers and goes after the truck! Too bad you¡¯re not that good of an actor!¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m trying to improve!¡± I shouted back that way while hitting a lamppost with pink paint and then canceling it so that my impact a second later would make the post bend over almost in half before it launched me upward and over. With a grunt, I landed on the edge of a roof to skate along it. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come back so you can give me some pointers? I don¡¯t suppose I could offer you lunch in exchange!?¡±


    Yeah, she didn¡¯t respond to that. She was too busy doing her level best to reach the truck in time. But I was hot on her heels, and she had to keep evading my occasional paint shots. Though I couldn¡¯t shoot too much at her. I definitely had more paint than when I had first Touched, but it was still limited. I had to give it time to recharge, so I spent the next bit mostly running after her and using the gravity-shifting boots to avoid losing the woman completely.


    Our race continued that way, with me barely keeping her in sight. She could fly, so she had the advantage. But I was able to hit her a couple of times with yellow paint to slow her down now and then. It was just enough, between that and the other few bits of paint boosts I used, to stop her from completely pulling away.


    So yeah, this was how my Friday afternoon was going. It had been just under a week since that not-so-little party and convention. Beyond the normal going to school bits, most of that time had been split between pretending things were completely normal with my family and digging a tunnel so I could sneak into their secret underground supervillain lair and stop them. Yeah, some things might have become a bit different lately, like my having more people to talk to about all this. But one thing that definitely hadn¡¯t changed was my complicated feelings about all that. I still didn¡¯t know exactly what I was going to do beyond wanting to get all the information I could out of that place. I kept telling myself that I would have more of an idea once I had more information to work with, but even I knew that was mostly an excuse. I wasn¡¯t ready to make any firm decisions about any of that yet. But someday soon, I was going to have to.


    For now, however, all I had to do was try to keep up with the flying woman who kept doing her level best to get away from me. All I was really doing, to be honest, was harassing her just enough that she couldn¡¯t take her full attention off me. But hey, I was going to take what I could get right then. And I did manage to send a couple messages to warn Alloy.


    I knew the moment she saw the truck, because the woman instantly inverted herself in the air, wings flaring out before tucking in as she drove almost straight down behind a building. Seeing that, I dove downward as well, landing against the side of the building before skating my way around it. A moment later, I came around the corner and spotted the semi. It had stopped short, barely short of Angel Dust, who was hovering in the air in front of them. Her voice snapped out a demand of, ¡°Where¡¯s the girl?!¡±


    While the driver shouted back through his open window that he had no idea what girl she was talking about, I threw myself forward and down, rolling under the trailer. On my back beneath it, I raised both hands forward and up, shooting a spray of pink paint all along the spot that hooked the trailer to the truck. I had to work fast, because I could hear the Easy Eight lieutenant snapping for the men to get the hell out of there.


    They obeyed, and the truck immediately started to pull away. Which made it yank at the pink paint so that the truck literally snapped its way off the trailer and lurched forward with a squeal of tires. The front end of the trailer slammed down, but I was far enough back that it didn¡¯t land on me.


    As the truck screeched to a halt at the end of the block, and Angel Dust blurted out a surprised curse, I threw myself out from under the trailer and popped up.


    Her eyes found me immediately, of course, and the woman landed hard, drawing one of her dust-swords before demanding, ¡°What¨Chow¨Cwhere did¨C¡± Her words stopped short, and I could feel her eyes narrowing at me before she murmured, ¡°It was a trick. Your partner isn¡¯t anywhere near here.¡±


    ¡°Wanna bet?¡± That was Alloy, who landed on her board a bit behind the woman, catching her between us.


    Speaking brightly, I chirped, ¡°Oh, you mean the part where I let you think I was stalling you because Alloy was already going after your truck, just so you¡¯d stop trying to stall me and let me follow you all the way here, basically showing me exactly where the truck went after they worked so hard to lose me? Yeah, that was a trick. But I did manage to tell my partner over there how to find us so she could catch up. So, you know, in the end she is here. But more importantly, tell me something.


    ¡°How do you like my acting now?¡±

 Non-Canon 16 - Joyride Versus The Minority

    ¡°Okay, so could somebody please explain to me why we''re actually here?¡±


    The person asking that question was Whamline. And ¡®here¡¯ was the staff parking lot for one of the local arenas. Which, for the current week, had been filled with dirt and was being used to host a massive monster truck show. It was the most popular (and profitable) of its kind in the state each year, and this time was no exception. Every event had sold out all week long. At the moment, however, all was eerily quiet. It was almost midnight, and the last event of the day had been over for a couple hours. The audience was long-gone, as were the drivers. The whole place was locked up and dark.


    In fact, the only people visible anywhere around this place were the Minority members themselves. Whamline and the rest of the youth team were standing together in a loose circle, looking around the empty lot that surrounded them.


    All four Syndicates were here, the one who was solid at the moment speaking up to answer their teammate¡¯s question. ¡°You know why we''re here, Wham. The invitation.¡±


    ¡°You mean this one?¡± Whamline held up his copy. It looked like a birthday card, with a bunch of monster truck and smiley face stickers all over the front and the words ¡®You¡¯re Invited!¡¯ embossed across it. When opened, further details of, ¡®Ford Field, Friday May 20th, Midnight. If you don¡¯t stop me, I will steal the most important thing in the stadium. If anyone other than the invitees show up, I will flood the governor¡¯s house with stink bomb juice. Ask Mister Police Chief Gary Conners.¡¯ That was followed by a big tongue-out smiley face sticker. And finally, ¡®I¡¯m not supposed to be out very long after midnight, so please don¡¯t be late. Love, Joyride. PS - Please ask the condiment condominium concessions people to leave a bag of the caramel popcorn by the stand cuz I really like that stuff. Okay thanks bye!¡¯ Those last three words were written very tiny in scrunched up lettering that tilted sideways against the bottom corner of the card.


    After giving everyone else a chance to look at the invitation yet again, Whamline continued. ¡°So, I ask again, why are we here? Sorry, what I mean is, why are we the only ones here. Why are we listening to her? She''s a villain, right? And now she¡¯s told us exactly where she''s going to be. Why don''t we have a whole group here ready to bring her in? We should have a whole army of guys right around the corner waiting to fill this place and take this crazy girl into custody.¡±


    Wobble shook his head. ¡°You saw the warning there. If anyone else shows up, she¡¯ll flood the governor¡¯s house with stink bomb stuff. See that bit about the police chief? She already did it to his house a couple weeks ago, after he put out that statement that said she was just a silly little girl who would be arrested soon.¡±  ¡°It was more than that,¡± That-A-Way pointed out. ¡°She told them she was going to do it, so they put a couple guards on his house, and she still managed to flood the place. I talked to a cop who was one of the guards there, and they never saw anything. They didn''t know anything was wrong until it started seeping out from under the doors. And it really smelled bad. The governor had a chance to find out about it, and he doesn¡¯t want it to happen to his place.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Carousel noted, ¡°the girl isn¡¯t that evil. She¡¯s more wealth retrieval.¡± There was already an assortment of random objects in miniaturized form floating around her. Carousel had come prepared.


    ¡°What she said,¡± another of the Syndicates agreed, gesturing that way. ¡°Joyride isn''t the type to set up snipers to take shots at us, or blow up the room we¡¯re in or anything. If it was a more dangerous villain, you know they''d find another way.¡±


    A third Syndicate continued. ¡°But it''s Joyride. The worst we''ll get is embarrassed, and we can survive that. Plus, if we can catch her, maybe we can talk her around to our side. Do you have any idea how useful having someone like that could be? She''s been able to do all this stuff basically by herself and with what she stole. If she was with our team, we could turn her powers to the light side, or whatever.¡±


    Whamline muttered, ¡°Yeah, maybe you can survive being embarrassed by an eight-year-old because it¡¯s all split up between four of you. Any embarrassment the rest of us get is one per person. For you guys, it¡¯s like, one-fourth. Totally different.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s how that works,¡± one of the Syndicates noted dryly before adding, ¡°And what, are you saying you''re afraid to face this girl?¡±


    ¡°Afraid?¡± Whamline echoed. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say afraid. Appropriately cautious, sure. She may be a kid, but you said it yourself she¡¯s really effective. Err, one of yourselves said that, I forget which one.¡±


    Three of the Syndicates pointed to the one who had actually said those words, and that one nodded. ¡°Yup. And now we¡¯re going inside to talk to her. She wanted us here for a reason, maybe it was to find out how hard it would be to join up. Probably not, but we could get lucky. Only way to find out is to go check. Ahem, Raindrop?¡± He looked that way, to their silent, youngest teammate. ¡°You wanna lead the way?¡±


    After hesitating slightly, the small Star-Touched gave a short nod. She pivoted on one foot, staring at the arena ahead of them before squaring her shoulders as she started to walk that way. The others followed after, all of them keeping their eyes open for anything unusual. When it came to the girl they were about to confront, you never knew what would happen. Each of them was keenly aware of the story about how Caishen had been instantly and unexpectedly teleported across the city to where her own daughter was with several thugs, within moments of Joyride leaving that scene. A whole series of tests had been done, but no one could figure out how the girl had done that so quickly. Needless to say, plenty of people were nervous about the idea that anyone could be teleported anywhere in the city at the drop of a hat. Especially when it came to the thought of that ability ending up in the hands of anyone more dangerous than Joyride herself. That was a real concern, which was another reason why it was hoped that playing along with this little¡­ whatever it was would give the Minority members a chance to talk her around to their side. The very fact that she had specifically requested their presence gave some hope that it was possible.


    As they approached the arena, two of the oversized doors meant to allow staff in and out abruptly opened, seemingly on their own, to reveal a brightly lit corridor beyond. It led directly into the arena proper, the wide hall with its large doors intended to allow access straight from the employee lot to the main stage. Or, in this case, to the main dirt pit.


    The Minority members all stopped to exchange looks with one another before proceeding onward. As they passed into the wide corridor, the doors closed behind them. As before, there was no indication of what, or who, had done so. But with a loud clang, they were left in the hall, and the only way to go was forward.


    So, that was what they did. Footsteps echoing along the open space around them, the group strode together toward the arena proper, with Raindrop still in the lead. The three intangible Syndicates split off to float through the walls in order to search the rest of the building. After all, it had never been said that they couldn''t do that. As long as the only people searching were specifically members of the Minority, they were still following the rules.


    Eventually, the group emerged into the dirt arena. All of the vehicles within had been moved, the city not willing to take the chance of allowing Joyride to steal them. Not that it was certain that those for what she had meant by the threat to steal the most important thing in the arena, but it was a risk no one wanted to be responsible for. Those trucks could be quite expensive, even the ¡®normal¡¯ ones. There were also a few with incorporated Touched-Tech, which easily could have been what she was referring to. But they were all gone now, which of course the girl had to have known would happen when she made the threat in the first place. She was young, but they all knew she wasn¡¯t stupid. There was something else going on here, and none of them knew exactly what it could be.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had interest in such events,¡± Carousel murmured, her gaze passing over the ramp-formations in the dirt, along with the various junker cars that had been left out to be trampled or jumped over. ¡°Quite frankly, I fail to see the sense. It all seems far too loud, from both trucks and crowd.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually a lot of fun if you can get into it,¡± Wobble replied, looking out over the empty stands as he searched for any sign of their quarry. ¡°But yeah, also really loud. It''s a lot of crashing metal, a lot of chaos, a lot of screaming¡­ it¡¯s just a lot in general. Wouldn''t really blame you for not being into it. But for those of us who are, it''s pretty sweet.¡±


    ¡°Have you been here this year?¡± The Syndicate who had stayed with them was looking that way, his voice curious. ¡°I mean, without me?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± came the chuckled reply, ¡°But hey, if you''re interested, I wouldn''t mind going again. Maybe we could all make a big trip of it before the place shuts down. Still got another couple days. You know, assuming there¡¯s still an actual show after all this.¡±


    ¡°The offered inclusion to such an event is greatly appreciated,¡± Carousel informed him without looking that way, ¡°But if waiting for me, your breath should stay unbated. Not to discourage your interests and hobbies, I simply prefer queuing within my gaming lobbies.¡±


    The others started to say something to that, but they were interrupted by the lights abruptly going out. For a brief second, the group was left in darkness. Then a series of spotlights came on, illuminating them where they stood. Immediately, they spread out to avoid being clustered up, and the spotlights separated to stay on each of them.


    ¡°What--¡± That-A-Way Started to say, before her words were drowned out by a noise. It started as a low chuckle, broadcast through the public address loudspeaker in a way that made it sound as though the sound were coming from every direction. Slowly, that chuckle rose into a booming, maniacal laugh that would have made the Wicked Witch of the West even greener than usual with envy.


    Syndicate tilted his head, focusing on what he could get from one of the other versions of himself. Then he looked to the others. ¡°It¡¯s not coming from the main announcement box. Place is empty, but there¡¯s some sort of machine hooked up to--¡±


    His own words were cut off then, as just as abruptly as the laughter had started, it halted. Eerie silence returned for almost five seconds, before an actual voice filled the arena through the same loudspeaker, volume turned high enough to make the words echo. ¡°Welcome! It¡¯s so nice to see people who can follow directions properly!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, ahh, could you turn it down?!¡± That-A-Way shouted, rubbing a hand against the side of her head. ¡°We can hear you just fine! Wait, can she--¡±


    ¡°Is that better?¡± The response was still loud, but at least manageable. And, curiously, Joyride actually sounded concerned. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask you to bring earplugs or anything, and hearing damage is dangerous. Can you hear me?¡±


    The entire team exchanged glances before Wobble spoke up. ¡°Uhh, yeah, can you hear us?¡±


    ¡°Yay!¡± came the response from all around them. ¡°Okay, good! Now, hang on, where were we? Oh yeah!¡±  The actual words were replaced once more with maniacal cackling, followed quickly by the spotlights spinning around wildly for a few seconds.


    ¡°Goooood evening, Minority! And welcome to a game I like to call, ¡®Which Of You Is A Dirty Lousy Cheating Thief!¡¯¡±


    ¡°Uhh, what?¡± Once more, the assembled group looked at one another. That time, it was Syndicate who found his voice first. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The spotlights stopped spinning around, returning to focus on each of them as Joyride continued. ¡°Well, I think it''s pretty self-explanatory in the name, isn''t it? We''re here today to find out which of you is a dirty thief.¡±


    ¡°I uhh, think you may be a little confused,¡± came the response from Carousel. ¡°It¡¯s you by whom the laws have been abused. We are not thieves, dirty or clean. That¡¯s you, from your demeanor I glean.¡±


    There was a brief pause before their ¡®host¡¯ spoke up. ¡°You''re fun, I really hope it isn''t you. But I know it''s one of you!¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± Wobble spoke up, ¡°We don''t know what you''re talking about, sorry. Why don''t you come out and we¡¯ll discuss this whole thing. If someone stole something from you¡­ I mean, we can help you get it back.¡± He glanced toward the others before shrugging helplessly while continuing. ¡°But I don''t think anyone here took--¡±


    He was interrupted as Joyride¡¯s voice boomed once more. ¡°Last week you all investigated a break-in at a pharmacy on Plymouth. I left something there, and one of you found it. You stole it and you never told anyone else. You didn¡¯t report it, you didn¡¯t turn it in, you just kept it. And now, I want it back. But, you know, I can be reasonable.¡±


    As she said that, a new spot light appeared. It illuminated a small metal shed, like one that would be stuck in the corner of a backyard, sitting twenty feet away with the door sitting open to reveal an interior that was lit up. A single, small metal box was the only contents. The shed had not been there before the lights went out.


    ¡°Everyone can go inside, one at a time, and the one who stole from me can put the item in the box,¡± Joyride explained. ¡°When you close it, I''ll take the item and nobody on your team will know. It can be our little secret.¡±


    Once again, the team looked at one another. A collection of confused shrugs passed between them before That-A-Way spoke. ¡°We told you, none of us stole anything. If we''d found something at a crime scene, we would have turned it in. We don¡¯t want to fight, Joyride. We just want to talk.¡±


    ¡°I did talk,¡± came the response. ¡°I¡¯m giving you all a chance to do this the easy way. Any takers? Going once¡­ going twice¡­¡±


    The spotlight on the shed flickered, and during one of its ¡®down¡¯ seconds, the shed itself vanished as if it had never been there. It was as simple as if the entire structure had vanished in a blink, leaving no trace.


    ¡°Okay then.¡± Now Joyride sounded, if not angry, at least less pleasant. ¡°I guess the thief wants to do this the hard way.¡±


    The moment she said that, the lights went out completely. The team was left in total darkness. Syndicate started to blurt a command, but before more than the first syllable could leave his mouth, a brand new spotlight appeared. This one was much larger than the others, Illuminating something at the far end of the arena. Something enormous, which had not been there a moment earlier.


    ¡°Hooooly fuck.¡± Whamline managed, as they all stared at the new arrival. ¡°Did uhh¡­ did you guys know she had one of those?¡±


    ¡®One of those,¡¯ in this case, was a monstrous machine. The thing was clearly built out of old vehicle parts, some of them rustier than others. It stood a good twenty feet tall at the head and fifty feet long. Its base body resembled a metallic Tyrannosaurus Rex, back covered by a hard shell with spikes all along it that was more like an ankylosaurus. The shell itself appeared to be made out of old truck campers with various thick slabs of metal welded to them, while a series of exhaust pipes extended from the back of the monster¡¯s head, which were expelling various colored smoke. A long club-like tail extended from the machine, swinging back and forth dangerously. The ¡®club¡¯ had been formed from a construction site wrecking ball. Finally, the machine¡¯s dinosaur influences clearly didn¡¯t end at the Rex and ankylosaurus combination. Along the front of its head was a thick metal frill as though protecting its neck, along with three long metal horns jutting out from the face. Both clearly inspired by a triceratops.


    ¡°Minority!¡± came the sound of Joyride¡¯s voice. This time, rather than coming from all around them, the voice was clearly projected from the machine itself. ¡°Say hello to Toto! Toto, say hello!¡± Immediately, the robot dinosaur tilted its head back and gave a deafening roar, accompanied by a blast of fire that shot high into the air from its mouth. Its heavy clubtail slammed into the nearby dirt ramp, collapsing it entirely and sending a spray of earth flying in every direction. Simultaneously, a new burst of multi-colored smoke shot from each of the half-dozen exhaust pipes jutting out from behind its head, while much larger clouds of matching smoke were launched upward behind the machine from hidden pipes on the ground. The large spotlight flashed repeatedly, and then the thing lowered its head and began to race toward them, footsteps pounding heavily along the ground. A second later, the rest of the lights came on to illuminate the whole dirt arena.


    ¡°Right.¡± Voice cracking a little bit as he stared at the thing, Syndicate swallowed before turning back to the others, lowering his voice to a whisper. ¡°Okay, she wants us to fight, so let''s fight. Way? Get her out of there.¡± His hand rose, pointing toward the Rex¡¯s ¡®head¡¯, where a small figure could be seen perched inside a driver¡¯s seat, watching them through windshield-like eyes. ¡°The rest of us will play her game.¡±


    So, they all spread out as the mechanical chimera dinosaur charged. Raindrop rose into the air, floating upward. Whamline created a pair of long energy coils from his shoulders, which slammed down into the ground to lift him upward as well, heading toward the left. Wobble launched himself upward and to the right with a blast of vibrations from his palms. And Syndicate turned intangible, racing straight forward toward the base of the monster.


    Meanwhile, That-A-Way¡¯s form turned into a blur of motion, as she raced up and to one side to put herself to the south-west of it.


    Still raised to the level of the monster¡¯s head on two of his energy coils, Whamline threw his arms outward, projecting a couple more coils to grab onto the metal rex¡¯s left side. The coils yanked hard to pull the robot over. Meanwhile, Wobble flipped over in the air to the right side before sending a powerful blast of vibrations that way, intended to help knock the machine in the direction that Whamline was yanking. Simultaneously, Raindrop sent a spray of water to soak the machine down. If the other two could knock it over, she would ensure it fell slowly enough to avoid hurting its occupant.


    Carousel, standing right where they had started, sent a barrage of random items flying toward the thing¡¯s windshield as a distraction. A chair, a heavy table, a clock, a metal pipe, various things she had collected on their way over to the arena.


    Then there was Syndicate, who was still intangible. Reaching the bottom of the machine, he threw himself right up through one of the feet and into the machine proper, producing a knife once he was inside the cramped interior of its leg. There, he turned tangible once more (turning one of his distant duplicates ghost-like for the time being) before reaching out to start cutting visible wires.


    Finally, once she reached a good position, That-A-Way took a quick look back toward the machine. Sparks were flying from one of its legs where Syndicate was, and the thing was starting to tilt over in the direction Whamline and Wobble were attempting to shove it. Raindrop was still floating, thoroughly soaking the monster down so she could slow its fall once it hit the point of no return.


    With a quick smirk, Way focused on her power. The thing was to the north of her now, so her teleportation was in business. Instantly, the girl vanished, reappearing just inside the machine¡¯s head, hands reaching out to grab the driver.


    It was a dummy, complete with a note on the helmet that simply read, ¡®Nice Try.¡¯ There was no living person there. Way realized that just before a sudden flash of light struck her. The next thing she knew, the girl was lying face down in the dirt a good forty feet away. A second later, she was joined by Syndicate, who had also been teleported out of the machine to land beside her with a yelp.


    Meanwhile, Whamline¡¯s coils that were gripping and yanking at the thing¡¯s side were met with a couple of its own, these ones made of metal and emerging from a pair of holes that slid open. The robot¡¯s own coils caught hold of Whamline¡¯s and, with a quick snap, sent the boy flying out into the stands, near one of the private viewing boxes.


    Simultaneously, that giant T-Rex/Triceratops head opened its mouth, sending out a new burst of fire, which immediately melted the objects that Carousel was using to distract it. Then its head turned to face Wobble while the boy was dropping out of the air after another blast of kinetic force. Its club tail swung upward just as the monster let out a terrible screeching roar, a focused blast of sound that made the boy grab the side of his helmet with a yelp. He windmilled through the air, falling toward the ground. But before he could impact, the tail finished its swing, rising up just enough for Wobble to fall on it so that he wouldn¡¯t hurt himself. It dropped immediately, allowing the armored figure to collapse off one side with a grunt.


    Raindrop, meanwhile, found herself surrounded by more of that brightly colored rainbow smoke, shot from the exhaust pipes along the machine¡¯s back when it bent its head forward. The smoke was thick, blinding the girl and making her cough repeatedly. It felt thick, disorienting her until had to focus on flooding the area around herself with a heavy spray to clear the air. It didn¡¯t work, however, as the smoke simply seemed to grow thicker, even sticking to her costume and helmet. She had to drop back to the ground, coughing a bit more.


    Laying on his side in the stands where he had been thrown, Whamline looked up. He could see the rest of his team reorienting themselves. But, more importantly, the boy saw a familiar figure through the window of the nearby private viewing box. A snarl escaped him before he quickly scrambled that way. He would finish this right now.


    An instant later, the door of the box slammed open, kicked inward by a powerful blow. ¡°Hey, little bitch,¡± Whamline snapped as he came through. His hand was raised with a glowing metallic box resting in his palm. The box was about six inches across, dark blue with a handful of red blinking lights. Wires were exposed on one side, and it had three small glass bulbs along the opposite side from the wires. ¡°You looking for this?¡±


    Spinning away from the viewing window, Joyride gave a gasp of surprise. As always, she wore the same red bodysuits with slightly dark armor panels, black boots and gloves, and a black cloak (which was perpetually billowing no matter how little wind there happened to be), over a smooth, nearly-featureless black helmet with two glowing red lights where her eyes would be.


    ¡°Hey!¡± the girl blurted, starting to lunge that way as she saw the device in his hands. ¡°That¡¯s mine!¡±


    She never reached him however, as a sudden energy coil appeared, smacking into her from one side to send her crashing into an assortment of comfortable chairs with a yelp.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m not playing that game anymore,¡± Whamline snapped. ¡°Those guys out there, they might be okay with letting some snot-nosed, pathetic little bitch playing dress-up humiliate them, but I¡¯ve had enough. You think you¡¯re so big and bad? How many people have you killed, brat?¡± His voice lowered dangerously, as he took a step toward her fallen form. ¡°Because I guarantee..¡± Six energy coils appeared, four of them grabbing the various chairs that surrounded her before violently knocking them flying to either side, while the remaining two yanked the girl up by her wrists and left her dangling in front of him. ¡°It¡¯s less than me.¡±


    ¡°Fewer,¡± Joyride mumbled under her breath, voice barely audible.


    ¡°What?¡± came the incredulous demand.


    ¡°I said, fewer. You mean fewer. You should get it right.¡± Lifting her head as she was left to dangle there by the coils tightly gripping her wrists, Joyride met his gaze. ¡°And there¡¯s a few differences between your sort of villain and my sort. I have some things you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Snarling the word, Whamline stepped closer. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    Joyride¡¯s voice was matter-of-fact. ¡°Style, standards, a super-cool dinosaur robot¡­ and adequate media coverage.¡±


    As those words left her mouth, a dozen television screens came to life all around them. Each was broadcasting live news coverage from several different local stations, showing a view from hidden cameras inside the very room where they were standing. Whamline¡¯s own damning words about having killed people were repeated from all sides. A second later, the feed from the cameras inside the room was clearly cut out, as the view went back to showing previously scheduled programming. Including a couple bewildered-looking late night hosts.


    With a flash of color and a distortion that filled the air, Joyride vanished from being gripped in those coils. She reappeared directly in front of Whamline just long enough to grab the box from his hand with a sly, ¡°Fooled ya.¡± Then she vanished again before reappearing on the far side of the room.


    ¡°You--¡± A strangled, violent scream escaped Whamline as he began to lunge that way, only to be brought up short as one of the other Syndicates caught him by the arm. The other two (beyond the one who was still out in the arena), came up on his other side. All three gave him hard looks.


    As soon as he saw them, Whamline lashed out with a quick punch that way. But his fist whiffed through the suddenly-intangible figure of the one who had grabbed him, just as another turned solid to press a device against the side of his neck. There was a burst of electricity, and the boy jerked, spasmed, then collapsed to the floor where he lay still.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be okay?¡± one of the Syndicates demanded, gaze focused on Joyride.


    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah, like the note you found said, it just knocked him out,¡± came the response as she distractedly looked up from examining the box she had taken back.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve just come to us, told us you saw him steal it, and the other stuff you found out when you investigated him,¡± another Syndicate flatly pointed out. ¡°Instead of putting it in that note for one of me to pick up, and then doing¡­ all this.¡±


    ¡°But how boring would that be?¡± Joyride demanded, sounding thoroughly offended by the suggestion. ¡°This was fun.¡±


    Glancing through the window to see that the so-called Toto had disappeared, leaving the rest of his team staring up toward the viewing box where they were, the solid Syndicate murmured, ¡°You could really join us, you know. And with this guy showing his true colors, I think we have an¡­¡± He turned back at a cough from one of his other selves, only to find Joyride had vanished. ¡°-- open slot?¡±


    ¡°No thanks!¡± Joyride¡¯s voice filled the room. ¡°I¡¯ve got my toy back, that¡¯s what matters. Oh, and thanks for sending all those neat Touched-Tech monster trucks out of the arena. I picked a couple of my favorites to strip apart so I could get every piece I needed to really upgrade Toto for our next fight. Wait til you see what he¡¯ll be able to do when I finish that!


    ¡°See ya soon, Minority! Ahahahahahahaha!¡±

 Dig In 22-02

    Needless to say, Angel Dust wasn¡¯t exactly happy about being tricked into bringing me (and Alloy by extension) straight to the truck that had worked so hard to escape us in the first place. I saw her absorbing that realization for a moment before her shoulders straightened. There was a wave of annoyance coming off the woman, head tilting to glance over her shoulder toward Alloy, then back to me. Her voice was tight. ¡°You think you¡¯re pretty smart, don¡¯t you, boy?¡±


    In reply, I shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not about which of us is smarter. It¡¯s about which one managed to trick the other this time. Look at the facts. That trailer is broken. You can¡¯t get it back on the truck. You guys don¡¯t have a chance to get out of here with all that stuff. You should cut your losses and walk away before more authorities show up.¡± Even after I said that, I was keeping an eye on the Prev thugs from the truck itself as they popped down and gave uncertain looks our way. They were clearly waiting to see what their Touched lieutenant chose to do about this whole thing, not willing to make the first move themselves.


    It was very clear that the woman didn¡¯t want to walk away. What she wanted to do, no doubt, was teach me a lesson. I could see the rainbow-colored dust swirling around her as she took a moment to collect herself, clearly running through the pros and cons of keeping this fight going. But, in the end, her common sense won out over her annoyance. The dust that had been swirling around her like a swarm of angry hornets seemed to vanish into thin air before she spoke in a cool voice. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll have to give this one to you, kid. But don¡¯t think this is over. We need those supplies, and we¡¯ll get them one way or another. And you¡­¡± I could feel her gaze staring at me hard from behind that bronze mask. ¡°Get in the way again and next time I might have to smack you a little harder.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± I managed, trying to sound casual about the whole thing. ¡°Though I don¡¯t suppose it would help to point out that you guys wouldn¡¯t need these supplies so bad if you would just back off this entire gang war thing?¡± Pausing, I gave her a look before shrugging. ¡°Worth a shot.¡±


    Surprisingly, Angel Dust gave an audible chuckle before bowing her head in acknowledgment. ¡°Yeah, maybe so. But this is the world we live in. Gotta take it as it comes, not as you wish it would go. Which is the exact attitude that¡¯s stopping me from grabbing you and keeping this whole fight going. You won this round. Next time, maybe it¡¯ll be different. Hell, maybe next time you¡¯ll be the one wishing you never met me.¡±


    With that, she gave a loud whistle while raising her hand to spin her finger around in the air. ¡°Wrap it up!¡± Her words were clearly directed toward the uncertain goons waiting nearby for orders. ¡°Let¡¯s roll on out of here before we end up with even more interruptions.¡± Through all that, she hadn¡¯t taken her gaze off me. And once her men began to retreat, she addressed me one more time. ¡°It was a good trick, kid. You really had me going there. Even kept throwing paint at me so I couldn¡¯t take the time to call ahead to check in. Too bad you didn¡¯t come over to our side. We could¡¯ve had a lot of fun together. But then, from what I¡¯ve heard, you¡¯re more likely to join La Casa if anything.¡± She considered that briefly before gesturing. ¡°At least we would¡¯ve been allies in this whole thing. That¡­ that might¡¯ve been fun. Now ahh, you and your sidekick might wanna dive out of the way.¡±


    That was all the warning she gave us before a pair of nausea dust clouds went flying out in both directions. The clouds were thick, and came at me so fast I barely had time to throw myself backwards and to the ground in an awkward roll to get out of range. On the far side of the woman, I could hear Alloy curse and yelp as she barely escaped her own cloud.


    Once I finally picked myself up from the ground and managed to orient myself, I saw Alloy hovering up on her board a good fifteen feet in the air and further back than she had been. It looked like she had barely picked herself up too. The colored clouds were gone, and so was Angel Dust herself, and her men. They had all seemingly disappeared, leaving the two of us with the truck and trailer.


    ¡°Well,¡± I muttered while walking that way and brushing the dirt off my costume, ¡°that was fun.¡±


    ¡°Sure, fun,¡± Alloy retorted as she landed, marbles spinning around her. ¡°Tell you what, next time, you can take the puke dust to the face and I¡¯ll chase her down. Deal?¡±


    Coughing, I offered a shrug. ¡°Personally, I¡¯d prefer it if neither of us had to throw up. That¡¯s, you know, my ideal scenario.¡± Then I grimaced, adding, ¡°Are you okay? It sounded pretty bad.¡±


    I could see the way she shuddered at the memory, head shaking. ¡°Well, it wasn¡¯t fun, I¡¯ll tell you that much. But I¡¯ll live. Besides, we won.¡± With that, she offered her fist to me.


    Bumping my own fist against hers, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, we won. Though I¡¯m pretty sure we also managed to make even more enemies in the process. Well, one more in particular. Angel Dust isn¡¯t going to forget that. She might¡¯ve been smart enough to walk away for now, and¡­ you know, fairly gracious in losing. But she won¡¯t forget it. Next time, she¡¯s going to be a lot more careful. And a lot more intent on winning. So umm, let¡¯s be careful and keep our eyes open, huh? I really don¡¯t feel like being ambushed by her when she decides it¡¯s a good time to prove a point.¡±


    Alloy agreed, just before both of us turned in time to see a small squad of police cars arriving. They were accompanied by a car with Ten Towers labeling on it, which stopped to allow two of their Touched to step out. The first was Stick, a short man (just five inches taller than me) wearing loose gray pants, a sleeveless black shirt with the faded gray Ten Towers logo, spiked wristbands, combat boots, and a dark bandana mask that covered the lower half of his face. His black hair was worn long, clear to his shoulders. Meanwhile, the other Touched who had just arrived was Bunglebotch. Her own costume looked a lot more professional (and expensive) than his, amounting to a form-fitting black bodysuit with purple highlights over the arms and legs, and a matching purple Ten Towers logo over the front. Her gloves and boots were purple too, and she had a cape with an attached hood that were each black on the outside and purple on the inside. She also wore a black helmet with a large purple visor that went all the way from her chin to just above her eyes.


    Yeah, that was the thing about Bunglebotch. Her costume made her look amazing, one of the coolest costumes in the city as far as I was concerned. But her power was¡­ well, essentially she could do basically any physical action that a human being was capable of, but it would always look goofy, uncoordinated, and accidental. Like an old slapstick movie. Oh, and she could focus on anyone to make them screw up a physical action they were trying to do. It was a whole thing. She was one of the most physically gifted and coordinated Touched in the city, but no matter what she did, she would end up looking goofy and incompetent. Or, well, accidentally competent. I supposed that having one of the coolest-looking costumes in the city was her tradeoff for looking like such a clown whenever she did anything.


    Come to think of it, clown was probably the exact right term. Clowns were really good at being incredibly physically coordinated while making you think they were the exact opposite. Maybe that should¡¯ve been her codename. But then she would¡¯ve had to go with a very different physical look, because no way could someone use the name Clown and dress up the way she did.


    In any case, the two Star-Touched approached us, standing there by the trailer, and started to ask what had happened. So, Alloy and I jumped into an explanation about how we had been patrolling together when we saw the Easy Eights goons holding the driver of the truck at gunpoint. We intervened, then Angel Dust had shown up. From there, I went on to talk about the chase that came after Alloy had been¡­ briefly indisposed. She, in turn, talked about getting my message about where to go to find us. Then we summed up with how the whole thing had ended.


    Stick exchanged a brief look with Bumblebotch, before gesturing for her to go ahead and check the trailer. Then he turned back to us. ¡°Sounds like you did good today. But I wouldn¡¯t take what Dust said lightly. She¡¯s not really one of the hardcore dangerous Fells out there, but she¡¯s not a pushover either. She won¡¯t come find your families and stab you in bed. But she very well might work out a plan to get one over on you in the field.¡±


    I nodded once. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that she¡¯s not a psychotic murderer, but she¡¯s still going to want to hurt us within reason. And probably embarrass us. You know, pull out a win that makes herself look good. Restores her rep.¡±


    Bunglebotch called over while opening the back of the truck. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s about right! She¡¯s not a wannabe-Scion, but she¡¯s still got an image to uphold. And you embarrassed her today.¡± Hauling herself up into the truck, she added, ¡°But then, you guys seem pretty good at racking up enemies.¡±


    Grimacing, I offered a helpless shrug. ¡°So I¡¯ve been told. I guess she¡¯ll have to get in line with everyone else.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Stick spoke solemnly. ¡°Just hope that that line doesn¡¯t turn into a mob. And know that if you need it, you¡¯ve got as much help as you want.¡± His hand reached out to settle on my shoulder, squeezing firmly while he glanced between Alloy and me. ¡°You two may not be in any of our teams, But you¡¯re still part of the community. If you need anything, just speak up, any time. You got that?¡±


    The two of us agreed and then stepped away while the Ten Towers Touched began to take inventory of the truck, and the cops secured the scene. There were some onlookers gathered by that point, though they were staying well enough back. I nudged the girl beside me and we went over there to interact with the crowd. Part of me thought that was weird and maybe self-indulgent. But on the other hand, a bigger part pointed out that I wanted the civilians to be more likely to believe me if things ever came to a head with this whole Ministry thing. If I avoided and ignored the crowds, the moment my family decided to start trying to shift the narrative against Paintball, it would be a lot more likely to work in their favor. But if I could make sure that the public liked our little group, it would be harder for my parents to make us look bad.


    Was that manipulative? Okay, maybe. But it felt like the sort of game that I had to play. It left something of a bad taste in my mouth when I thought about it that way, yet if I ignored it, things would end up being a lot worse. And besides, I really did enjoy talking to people as Paintball, showing off and goofing around¨Cokay, I enjoyed showing off and goofing around as Cassidy too. So I wasn¡¯t exactly suffering when it came to that. Still, I couldn¡¯t shake that slightly awkward feeling at the back of my mind, even if I was getting pretty good at ignoring it.


    I also made a point of telling the people that we were part of a new team called Avant-Guard, even spraying the logo onto the nearby wall, as well as giving a few people who asked for it a version of the logo on their clothes. That proved to be pretty popular and even more people showed up asking for me to paint their shirts or jackets. Not all of them with our team name either. Some just wanted my name, or Alloy¡¯s with an image of her marbles. One person asked if I could do a picture across the back of his jacket that amounted to myself on one side, the roof of a building below, and Cu¨¦lebre chasing me on the opposite side. Once I did and they saw how detailed it was, everyone wanted something like that. They all had different images in mind, and it took about twenty minutes for me to get through all of it in between talking to them and letting my paint recharge now and then. I let them know that it could be scrubbed off if they wanted to, but most of them said they would stop by the store to buy this spray stuff that was supposed to seal paint to fabric or something. I wasn¡¯t sure about the details. All I knew was that they wanted to keep my images on their clothes, which was¡­ wow.


    Finally, Alloy and I managed to extract ourselves. She had been entertaining other people by turning her marbles into various things, even allowing some of them to step up on the different shapes for brief rides up and down the street. She managed to hide it pretty well, but I could tell that she was even more overwhelmed than I was.


    So, once we got out of there and landed on a roof a couple streets over, I looked toward the girl and raised an eyebrow. Then I realized she wouldn¡¯t see that, so I painted a face on the front of my helmet with a raised eyebrow there. ¡°You doing okay?¡±


    Coughing, she gave me a look, retracting most of her helmet so I could see her face. ¡°Am I doing okay? What about you? You uhh, you seemed right at home back there. You sure you¡¯re not a celebrity or something in your real life? Oh my God, are you a child actor? Jason Highward?¡±


    The guess made me choke, shaking my head quickly. ¡°I promise, I¡¯m not the star of Bending Backwards. Or any other TV star,¡± I added quickly before she could say anything else. ¡°I¡¯m not a celebrity. I mean, my other self isn¡¯t a celebrity. Not¨C¡± I was about to say ¡®not really,¡¯ but that felt like the wrong thing to say. So I just settled on, ¡°Not as a civilian. I uhh, I guess I just like attention at school and it translates?¡± That was basically the truth, so I didn¡¯t feel guilty about saying it. But then I felt guilty all over again for being relieved that I could manipulate the truth like that. It was¡­ complicated, to say the least.


    From the look the other girl was giving me, I had a feeling she thought there was something else to what I was saying, and what I wasn¡¯t saying. But she let it go and simply replied, ¡°At least we managed to save that truck, huh? Even if we did end up making another enemy.¡± A slight frown crossed her face before she shook it off. ¡°But then, I guess you don¡¯t do this sort of stuff for long without banging heads with the bad guys.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s pretty easy in my experience,¡± I admitted. Then I changed the face that I had painted on the front of my helmet to make it smile. ¡°But hey, it¡¯s nice to have someone else to share the bullseye with.¡±


    Giving me a look, Peyton dryly replied, ¡°Gee, thanks, boss. Glad to be able to help, I guess. And speaking of help, we should probably get over to the Nest.¡±


    The Nest was Wren¡¯s Nest, of course. The pawn shop. I gave a quick nod. ¡°Right, they¡¯ve been waiting for us. Come on, let¡¯s head over there. Though¡­ you think we should stop and grab some pizza on the way?¡±


    ¡°You mean bribe them with food so they¡¯re not annoyed about waiting so long for us?¡± Peyton offered me a very faint, knowing smirk. ¡°But while we¡¯re at it, we better grab some cheesy bread too.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that your favorite?¡± I teased, already turning to walk to the edge of the roof.


    ¡°What can I say?¡± she shot back. ¡°I¡¯m very annoyed at us and it¡¯s going to take some strong bribery to make me forgive us.¡±


    ********


    Eventually, after taking a long route to make sure we weren¡¯t being followed or observed, we made it back to the shop. As we went in the back door, Wren and Fred were already waiting, along with Murphy and Roald. When they saw us, the latter two let out audible sighs of relief, Roald speaking up, ¡°We saw the bit on the news about you chasing Angel Dust.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, are you okay?¡± Murphy demanded. ¡°First it looked like she was chasing you, but then you were chasing her. It was weird. What the hell happened?¡± Glancing toward Wren, she amended. ¡°Heck. What the heck happened?¡±


    For their part, Wren and Fred simply watched this, clearly just as curious as the other two but content to let them talk. Wren did hover upwards on her wings, basically bouncing excitedly in the air. I could tell that she had her own news to share, but was trying to be good.


    So, the two of us explained what had happened and how it ended. Including the bit about telling everyone about the team name and signing autographs/painting shirts. ¡°Which means,¡± I finished up, ¡°we should be getting the name out there pretty well by now. So I hope nobody really hated it after all, because it looks like it¡¯s gonna stick.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a cool name!¡± Wren insisted. Finally unable to hold herself back any longer, she flew forward to hover right in front of us. ¡°But guess what, guess what, guess what! They¡¯re ready to test.¡±


    ¡°The suits you¡¯ve been working on?¡± I straightened up a bit. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    Murphy immediately piped up, ¡°Seriously, we really get to try them?¡±


    Wren nodded toward both of us, her head snapping back and forth between Murphy and me. ¡°Uh huh, huh huh! They¡¯re pretty basic right now, but¡­ Uncle Fred?¡±


    On that cue, the man reached behind himself and brought out two jumpsuits. They looked pretty simple, like mechanics coveralls. Not too dissimilar from my own costume, though these were black. At the wrists and ankles of the jumpsuits there were silver bands, along with a bit of visible circuitry on the inside of the jumpsuits.


    As Fred held them out to Murphy and Roald, Wren urged the two to pull them on and zip them up, adding, ¡°I promise I¡¯ll make them look better and stuff in the final version. But I wanted to, you know, let you try them and make sure it worked.¡±


    ¡°Make sure what worked?¡± I asked, watching as the pair slipped the jumpsuits on over their clothes.


    ¡°Well, uhh, first, the kinetic decelerator,¡± she explained. ¡°Uh, guys, take these.¡± She reached out to a table, taking two pairs of gloves before tossing them that way. ¡°Put them on, then umm, put your hands together like this.¡± She pushed her hands flat together, like she was praying.


    Shrugging uncertainly, the other two did that. After a second or two, a very faintly audible hum could be heard, and I saw an outline of barely visible energy, like an aura around each of them.


    ¡°Yay!¡± Wren cheered, then picked up a baseball from the nearby table full of junk. ¡°Watch.¡± With that, she threw the ball as hard as she could at Roald¡¯s head. The ball got most of the way there before there was a blue-green flash. Then the ball just sort of¡­ stopped and fell to the floor.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a constant thing yet,¡± Wren explained. ¡°It¡¯d draw way too much power for the little batteries in the pockets. You have to activate it by putting your hands together like that, or by saying ¡®shield me,¡¯ and then it¡¯ll work for about thirty seconds. Right now it¡¯s got enough power for about fifteen of those before it has to be recharged. Plus about thirty jumps.¡±


    ¡°Jumps?¡± Peyton echoed, sounding just as curious as I felt.


    ¡°Remember that uhh, teleporter?¡± Wren asked, looking to me. ¡°The one you used before. It was super-dangerous, like, lucky you made it one piece. So I took it apart. But I split it into two things and linked the¨Chere.¡± Turning back to the other two, she urged, ¡°Uh, Roald, snap your fingers and point at Murphy.¡±


    The boy did just that, snapping with the gloves. As he did so and pointed, there was a sudden flash, and he was abruptly standing right next to the girl. Both of them yelped, half-falling in surprise.


    Wren, however, cheered. ¡°It worked! When one of you snaps and points at the other, you¡¯ll teleport over to them. Or if you both snap and point at each other, you¡¯ll switch places. You just have to be within line of sight. I umm, haven¡¯t figured out how to make you teleport somewhere else safely yet. I have this idea for these discs, but¡­ but they¡¯re not ready.¡±


    ¡°Duuuude, that¡¯s amazing!¡± Murphy gave Roald a shove, telling him to run over to the far side of the shop. Once he was there, she snapped and pointed. With a flash of light, she was suddenly standing next to him. Both of them cheered and leapt up and down a few times.


    ¡°I think they like it,¡± I murmured with a smile, before looking over at Wren. ¡°You¡¯re pretty amazing yourself, you know that?¡±


    Visibly blushing, the blonde girl squirmed while still hovering in the air. ¡°I just wanna help.¡±


    ¡°Oh believe me,¡± I assured her, ¡°you are definitely helping.¡± Glancing back to Murphy and Roald, who were testing the ¡®switch places¡¯ teleport by snapping and pointing at each other, I added, ¡°Without you, we all would¡¯ve been screwed a long time ago. I couldn¡¯t have saved Blackjack¡¯s daughter without you, and we certainly wouldn¡¯t have been able to help Paige. As for getting into the Ministry base? Yeah, we¡¯d probably be screwed there.


    ¡°But with you, we might just have a shot at this whole thing.¡±

 Dig In 22-03

    ¡°Cassidy. Psst, Cassidy. Hey¨C¡±


    A very small ball of wadded up paper bounced off my neck, making my eyes snap open as I sat up and looked around. What¨Cwhere? Oh, class. I was in class. School. Somehow, I had closed my eyes for what felt like a blink only to end up completely falling asleep. At least we had a substitute today, which meant everyone was watching a movie. The room was dark, an old classic film from the late nineties I¡¯d seen seventeen times was playing on the projector screen, and everyone was being quiet to avoid drawing the substitute¡¯s attention. No wonder I¡¯d fallen asleep.


    My back ached a little where I had twisted it wrong, and I had to grimace while looking around blearily for a moment before my eyes fell on the person who had thrown the paper. ¡°Tomas?¡± I whispered under my breath, glancing toward the back of the room where I could see the substitute reading something on his phone. He wasn¡¯t really paying attention. That was how subs worked, most of the time. They didn¡¯t care as long as we weren¡¯t too obvious about the fact that we weren¡¯t watching the movie, or doing the worksheet, or whatever they had given out to keep us busy for the class period. Very seldom did they actually try to teach the class.


    Tomas was sitting in the aisle across from me, turned completely to face my way. ¡°Are you okay?¡± he whispered. ¡°You seemed pretty out of it right there.¡±


    Out of it? Well yeah, I supposed I was. It had been another week since that event with Angel Dust, meaning it had been two weeks since the dinner party and convention. Specifically, it was Friday, May 8th. And if the first week following the party had been busy, this past one had made it look positively docile. The gang war was getting even worse, particularly now that it looked like the Ninety-Niners and Oscuro were starting to splinter a bit. Some of their people were getting into fights between themselves, which just emboldened La Casa and the Easy Eights to hit them harder. Territory was changing hands by the day, and it was all the authorities could do to try to keep up and stop the situation from completely spiraling out of control.


    So yeah, things were getting pretty out of control. I was out there every day doing what I could to help out alongside Alloy. We¡¯d put a bit of time in to show that we were around, then go to the construction site to work on the tunnel a bit. I felt bad about not putting in a full shift at both, and wished I had Syndicate¡¯s power to be in two places at once. Well, four places in his case, which would be even better. To make up for that deficiency, I had been pushing myself as hard as I could, working in the tunnel and trying to help out in the streets. It meant I was exhausted every night, and probably wasn¡¯t getting enough sleep. But I was okay. I had to be okay.


    Well, maybe the fact that I had fallen asleep in class would tend to disagree with that assessment. I would get a real nap in later. I had promised myself that I would sleep for a few hours right after school. The idea made me feel a hard stone of guilt in my stomach, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. If I pushed things too much harder, I was going to screw up somehow. And I was pretty sure it would be a screw-up I couldn¡¯t come back from.


    Still, I obviously couldn¡¯t tell Tomas all of that. So I settled on shrugging a little. ¡°I guess I haven¡¯t been sleeping very well. You know, just one of those things.¡± Yeah, that wasn¡¯t very informative, but what else was I supposed to say? I couldn¡¯t tell him the truth. There was no way for me to know just how much he was involved in the whole Ministry thing. As much as I didn¡¯t want to think that he was that sort of person, I also didn¡¯t want to believe my parents were those sort of people, and look how that had turned out. It was all a mess. Not being able to trust a guy I had cared so much about for so long was one of the worst feelings I¡¯d ever experienced.


    Tomas raised an eyebrow, glancing back to the sub briefly before giving a teasing whisper, ¡°Oh, right, it must be that terribly lumpy bed you¡¯ve got. What on Earth were your parents thinking? Why, that thing is barely more than a camp cot. What did it cost, a mere twenty thousand dollars? You might as well be sleeping on the ground. On a pile of nails. Fresh from the furnace.¡±


    Blushing despite myself, I rolled my eyes and retorted, ¡°Yeah, yeah. I didn¡¯t say the bed wasn¡¯t comfortable, jerk.¡± My finger flicked a tiny piece of eraser off my desk, which bounced off the middle of his forehead, making the boy gasp softly.


    ¡°Good shot,¡± he murmured, rubbing his temple. ¡°Bet you couldn¡¯t do that twice in a row.¡±


    Wait, was that part of my power, the whole accuracy thing I¡¯d noted when it came to using my paint? Did it extend to¨Coh. Realizing belatedly that I actually might¡¯ve been able to ¡®do that twice in a row¡¯ after all, I mumbled something about being lucky once in awhile, dismissing it in the hopes that he would do the same.


    It worked. Partly because he had other things on his mind. Leaning over a little, he whispered, ¡°You¡¯re not worried about this weekend, are you?¡±


    This weekend? A rush of confusion, and more than a little paranoia, filled my mind. This weekend was when we thought we would be able to finish that tunnel and make our move. But how could he possibly know anything about¨Cwait, no. He didn¡¯t know anything about it. He wasn¡¯t asking about the tunnel, obviously. This was about something completely different. Namely, the fact that I was supposed to hang out with him and Maki this weekend. Which was uncomfortable all on its own, but I had to do it if we were going to learn anything about Maki themself. Amber was completely sure that they were the person she had seen get picked up by Tomas¡¯s father after shapeshifting to change sex. So yeah, there was definitely something going on there, and hanging out with them alongside Tomas was my best chance to find out what.


    Which did indeed mean that we were going to try to break into the Ministry base the day after I hung out with my ex-boyfriend and the person he was now dating. But hey, it could have been worse. We could¡¯ve flipped those. Somehow, I was pretty sure that breaking into the base first and then hanging out with Tomas and Maki the next day would have been even harder to deal with. At least this way, I wouldn¡¯t have some other distraction in the back of my mind while we were supposed to be focusing on getting through that tunnel.


    Okay, that was a lie. Of course I would still have distractions. But I could try to fool myself, damn it. And I could push most of them out of my head for awhile. Getting into that Ministry base was too important, and we had spent too much time and effort on the tunnel, to let myself screw it up by being too focused on the whole Tomas thing. This way, I could get through hanging out with them, find out whatever I could about Maki, and then shift my attention to where it needed to be.


    Yeah, sure, that would definitely work.


    And speaking of focusing on things, I met the boy¡¯s curious gaze before shaking my head. Somehow, I found a smile. ¡°Nah, don¡¯t¨Cahh, don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s fine. I mean sure, it¡¯s gonna be a little awkward. But it¡¯ll be fine. I mean, Maki seems cool. I¡¯m glad you umm, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re with someone like that. I mean, they¨C¡± I almost said ¡®they¡¯ for Maki, which would¡¯ve been bad considering I wasn¡¯t supposed to know about that whole situation. Instead, I quickly corrected, ¡°They always say, if your ex is gonna get with someone new, make sure you at least get some good ice cream out of the deal.¡±


    Tomas gave me a doubtful look at that, his eyebrow rising. ¡°Who says that, exactly?¡±


    I gave him a put-on innocent look. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m sure I could pay somebody to say it for me. Maybe even a lot of somebodies. What do you think the going rate for getting this entire class to repeat those words just so I don¡¯t sound completely ridiculous might be?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, cuz you definitely don¡¯t sound completely ridiculous already,¡± Tomas shot back with a chuckle. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the bell chimed first. Unlike movies and television shows I¡¯d seen, our between classes bell wasn¡¯t an obnoxious buzzer, it was a pleasant chime.


    Everyone else was already getting up to leave as I gathered my things and walked next to Tomas on our way to the door. ¡°It¡¯s cool, really. I¡¯ll be there tomorrow. One o¡¯clock, right?¡± We were going to get a late lunch and then see a movie, or something.


    Tomas started to confirm that, as Amber joined us. ¡°One o¡¯clock for wha¨Cohhh right, Tomas¡¯s attempt to make his ex-girlfriend get along with his current boyfriend. You are a glutton for punishment, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Giving the other girl a shove, I retorted, ¡°Be nice. Maki¡¯s cool. We¡¯re cool. It¡¯s all cool. Believe it or not, this isn¡¯t a sitcom or a soap opera. I am more than capable of getting along with both of them. It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s¨Cyou know, it¡¯s fine.¡±


    The other two exchanged looks as we walked down the hall together. But whatever they might¡¯ve said in response was cut off as another chime came. This one was not the bell for class, but the start of an announcement.


    ¡°Good morning, students,¡± the pleasant voice of one of the school secretaries began. ¡°As you are well-aware, the fighting and conflict between various Fell-Touched gangs in the city has been rising in the past couple of weeks. In order to gain some control over the situation, the police force, mayor¡¯s office, and our local Star-Touched organizations have decided that it would be for the best to institute a curfew for the time being. It will be announced on the news and official city bulletin over the next few hours, but what you need to know is that every person who does not have official work-related business keeping them out should be off the streets by eight PM until further notice.¡±


    Needless to say, the announcement brought about a loud chorus of groans and boos directed toward the loudspeakers. Not that it accomplished much, but everyone made sure to let their annoyance be known. Even Tomas and Amber contributed, though the look the dark-haired girl gave me behind his back made it clear that she was simply trying to blend in with everyone else.


    Of course, the whole thing made me wonder if it was supposed to apply to Star-Touched, or if we were exempt or whatever. Well, clearly all Amber and Izzy had to do was whatever the leadership told them. Alloy and I might¡­ eh, we¡¯d just take it as it came. Worst case scenario, someone would try to tell us to go home.


    And if we couldn¡¯t be out on the streets, we¡¯d just make sure the tunnel was ready to go.


    As those thoughts worked their way through my mind, Tomas focused on me. ¡°At least we already planned on making tomorrow an early one, huh?¡±


    Amber shook her head. ¡°Personally, I still think hanging out with your ex and his new boyfriend is weird. I¡¯m just saying. Hey, Jae.¡±


    That last bit, of course, came as the girl in question joined us. She was looking around at the people loudly complaining before shaking her head. Her voice was quiet. ¡°It¡¯s like they want to be in the middle of a Fell-Touched war.¡±


    ¡°You know people like that,¡± Tomas put in with a shrug. ¡°They think they¡¯re invincible.¡± His eyes centered on me pointedly. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Miss Can¡¯t Resist A Dare?¡±


    Huffing a bit, I retorted, ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, I am more than capable of resisting a dare. It¡¯s just that I usually don¡¯t want to. If it¡¯s something I don¡¯t want to do, I just don¡¯t. For example, if someone dared me to give you a hug right now, I definitely wouldn¡¯t do that. Because you¡¯re a jerk.¡± The words came out primly as I lifted my chin and harumphed at him.


    Tomas snorted. ¡°I bet if someone dared you to do a flip off the top of the school before crashing into me for a hug you¡¯d do i¨Cwait.¡± His face twisted a little as he reconsidered what he had been saying.


    Grinning, I gave a quick nod along with a thumbs up. ¡°You know what? Absolutely. If you want me to do a flip off the top of the school then crash into you for a hug, I will do that.¡±


    Jae and Amber snickered, before the latter spoke up. ¡°Anyway, the point is, nobody thinks they¡¯re going to be the ones who end up getting hurt. They all think it¡¯s gonna happen to someone else and they¡¯ll be fine. Which, I mean, yeah, it¡¯s a pretty big city. But it¡¯s also a pretty big gangwar.¡±


    While the others were reacting to that, I glanced away at the crowd of students who were reluctantly starting to move to their next classes. Everyone was talking about how annoying and unfair having a curfew was, especially one that early. Amber was right, everyone just assumed the fighting in the streets wouldn¡¯t affect them personally. But, of course, there wasn¡¯t exactly a way for the city to tell the gangs to only fight where people weren¡¯t.


    Oh wait, maybe not the city themselves, but that should have been exactly what the Ministry could do. If they were really trying to keep damage to a minimum and were good at maintaining control, shouldn¡¯t they just be able to tell the gangs to take their war outside of the city, or to places where people weren¡¯t going to be? But no, they were fighting all over the place and people were getting hurt. Innocent people who had nothing to do with any of it. Businesses were being damaged, civilians were being injured, or worse. And the war just kept escalating. Now we were on a full curfew? What was next? How bad was this going to get before it was over? And did I actually want an answer to that question?


    Regardless, one thing was clear. This whole situation was going to get worse before it got better. The gangs weren¡¯t going to stop fighting on their own. They were just going to keep escalating until one side faltered and the other could claim some sort of victory.


    But hey, maybe we would find something useful in the Ministry base this weekend, something we could use to convince the gangs to back off. Yeah, that didn¡¯t sound very likely, to say the least. Yet I had to give myself something to hope for.


    On the other hand, maybe I should just stick to hoping that we got through the whole thing alive, in one piece, and without losing any of our secrets.


    *******


    ¡°Still nothing from Irelyn?¡±


    It was a few hours later, and I was at Wren¡¯s shop, upstairs with Paige (and Raige) to check in. Her eyes were opened again, as they both took turns speaking through the same body.


    My head shook. ¡°No. I definitely haven¡¯t heard from her, and no one I¡¯ve spoken to has either.¡± My face twisted a little into a grimace. ¡°I even checked with Arleigh. Tried to make it sound casual, you know? Just asked if she ever saw that woman who accosted us outside the restaurant again. She hadn¡¯t, but she did use that as an excuse to invite me out to dinner some night, any night. She¡¯s free whenever and I should totally check out this awesome sci-fi-themed restaurant with her. And the worst part is, it actually does sound pretty cool. But if she ever finds out that I went without her, she¡¯s going to be even more impossible.¡± I groaned a bit, slumping against the far corner of the same couch Paige¡¯s body was lying on, down by her feet. ¡°But hey, at least she¡¯s not¨C¡± Cutting myself off, I frowned and tilted my head. ¡°Uh, I was gonna say at least she¡¯s not¡­ well, you. This is weird.¡±


    It was clearly Raige who spoke then, sounding amused by that whole thing. ¡°I dunno. Seems pretty fun from where I¡¯m sitting. Can¡¯t wait to see how you two work this whole thing out once we get separate bodies. But in the meantime, what¡¯s this about Irelyn not checking in again? It¡¯s been weeks. She should¡¯ve come back to kick the rocks around some more by now. Our distraction wasn¡¯t that good.¡± Her tone through that had gradually changed from amusement to what sounded like genuine concern, though masked somewhat by projected annoyance. ¡°The fuck is taking so long? She¡¯s a better detective than that. She must¡¯ve figured out that you aren¡¯t down there by now. Don¡¯t tell me she gave up and decided to have a quick little vacation down there.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should call her again and find out,¡± Paige put in, her voice uncertain. ¡°Unless she found something in Florida that she thinks has something to do with me, she wouldn¡¯t leave the city for so long. Not with¨C¡± She stopped, going silent for a moment before finishing with a simple, ¡°Not without getting any actual clues.¡±


    ¡°You could call her,¡± I agreed. ¡°It¡¯s been a couple weeks and if she still hasn¡¯t come back, maybe she did find something. I mean, something she thinks is about you. Or¡­¡± I trailed off, frowning. ¡°I dunno. But yeah, you should call her again. You don¡¯t think she got in trouble or something, do you?¡± The idea that we had sent some poor, practically defenseless woman down to Florida to poke around looking for her sister was starting to sound like a bad idea in my head.


    So, Raige gave Paige a little bit of control once more and she called Irelyn. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t lead to answers, or to making any of us feel better. There was no response. She tried six more times over the next half hour, all to no avail. Which only made Paige even more worried. And Raige clearly wasn¡¯t doing much better as far as that went.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I wasn¡¯t sure which of them said that, though ¡®both¡¯ was an option. ¡°What happened to her? What the hell is going on? Why isn¡¯t she answering?!¡± Her eyes snapped toward me. ¡°She left thirty messages on the phone since the last time we talked to her, but all those calls ended a couple weeks ago. Since then there¡¯s been nothing. No messages, no calls, nothing. Something¡¯s wrong. She would have¨Cshe should have¨Cit¡¯s wrong. Something happened.¡±


    What was I supposed to say to that? She wasn¡¯t wrong. Something had obviously happened. The only question was how bad that something might be. ¡°I don¡¯t¨Cmaybe she¡¯s asleep or¨C¡± I cut myself off at a hard glare from her. ¡°Yeah, probably not. Seriously, we can¡¯t freak out. Let me take the phone and I¡¯ll keep trying to call her. Wren says it can¡¯t be traced, and I believe her. I¡¯ll just use my voice changer thing if¨Cwhen she answers. I¡¯ll find out what¡¯s going on with her.¡±


    ¡°And if she doesn¡¯t answer?¡± Paige demanded in a voice that was attempting to be flat, but I could still hear a bit of guilt within it. ¡°What then?¡±


    I honestly had no idea. We couldn¡¯t go search all of Florida for one woman. It would be impossible. ¡°Sunday night we¡¯re going into the Ministry base,¡± I reminded them both. ¡°We¡¯ll find that list of your dad¡¯s secret labs and hope there¡¯s a body for Raige in one of them. Once you¡¯re both on your feet, we can go from there. We¡¯ll get hold of her, you guys. Just¡­ just one step at a time.¡±


    Paige slumped back on the couch, both her and Raige clearly lost in private conversation. I wasn¡¯t sure how long that would take, so I rose, promised to come back later to check in or if anything happened, then started downstairs with the phone in one hand.


    Right, as if there wasn¡¯t already enough pressure riding on this whole thing, now we had a missing woman to deal with. The weekend was gonna be quite¡­ something. First I had to go hang out with my ex and his new boyfriend tomorrow just so I could spy on both of them, and then Sunday I had to break into the secret Ministry base so I could spy on my family.


    And I honestly had no idea which one I was looking forward to least.

 Dig In 22-04

    As it turned out, the new curfew did not actually extend to recognized Star-Touched, no matter our age. Which was convenient for Alloy and me, yet made things a bit more complicated for Murphy and Roald. We didn¡¯t want to risk the two of them getting too much attention, especially not this close to when we were going to make the actual¡­ incursion. It really would have been crappy luck to have them get in trouble with the cops right before we were about to go into the Ministry base. And crappy luck was absolutely something we didn¡¯t need to be flirting with right now. There were already enough potential problems without adding even more.


    To that end, we made sure the two of them went home early that night. They weren¡¯t very happy about it, especially not Murphy. She wanted to be there to help with the last finishing touches on the tunnel, given how much getting into that base meant to her. But I managed to convince her that it was better for them to avoid attention right now and be ready to use the tunnel on Sunday night than it was to finish the basic work now. After all, if we were going to pull this off, we couldn¡¯t afford to give the Ministry any advance warning. I had no doubt that they would get reports of literally any situation within a certain radius of the mall. And if they heard about the sister someone who was murdered by a guy they helped escape being picked up for hanging around near their secret base after curfew? That might just draw their attention. Even if they didn¡¯t figure out any specifics, it was still too much of a risk. And the last thing this whole situation needed was more risks.


    After making sure the two of them made it on the last bus back to their apartment, and sending Alloy home to get some sleep as well given how much she had been yawning, I took a circuitous route back around to the construction site. I had to make absolutely sure there was no one following or watching me. Again, avoiding last minute screw-ups. Once I was eventually convinced that it was safe, I got back to the room where our tunnel entrance was. Wren and Fred had both just left as well to avoid any unwanted attention. Which left a few of Pack¡¯s lizards on lookout duty. Twinkletoes was invisible near the edge of the building, making a low groaning sound of greeting when I approached. The groaning turned to what sounded a lot like a purr when I reached up to scratch under his chin. Which, of course, meant that I had to scratch behind Riddles¡¯ head when the eagle-lizard made a harumphing noise from the windowsill nearby.


    Quietly telling the two of them to keep watching for any intruders, I made my way inside and over to the hole. Below, I could hear the others talking in low voices, so they clearly weren¡¯t too far away.


    Sure enough, as I made my way down the ladder, I found Pack, Raindrop, and That-A-Way all near the entrance in that widened area we had set up. We had brought some chairs down there to sit in, and there were lights strung all the way around it, connected to a heavy-duty (but silent) generator. Those same lights continued down the tunnel so we could see what we were doing.


    ¡°All good?¡± Way asked as I stepped off the ladder. ¡°Your buddies there weren¡¯t happy about leaving.¡±


    ¡°No, they weren¡¯t,¡± I agreed. ¡°But they¡¯ll be okay. They get it. The whole thing is just really sensitive right now, you know how it is.¡± My gaze passed over them before I added, ¡°For everyone. But how does it look? Are we good?¡±


    Pack spoke up, idly waving a small tablet computer. ¡°Scanner¡¯s clear so far.¡±


    The scanner, as she called it, was a device that Wren had set up. The lights that were strung along the tunnel weren¡¯t just lights. They included sensors that would detect digging in the area. Essentially letting us know if anyone was getting close to our tunnel with one of their own. They also did some other stuff, including acting as countermeasures for anyone taking scans of the ground from up above. There were plenty of different sorts of detectors that could have told anyone using them that there was a large tunnel below their feet. Wren¡¯s devices essentially moved those scans over to a safe (aka still dirt-filled) section of ground so they wouldn¡¯t pick up anything we didn¡¯t want them to.


    That wasn¡¯t the only way the girl had helped either. The tunnel itself was very winding, going down and then up and then twisting, all to avoid any underground pipes and wires, or anything else whose damage or disturbance would have immediately alerted someone that we were there. Wren had another scanner device that penetrated the ground ahead of us, letting our group know exactly where it was safe to dig. As a result, the tunnel was a lot less of a direct line to the mall than we¡¯d originally planned, yet avoiding calling down a maintenance crew leading to cops felt worth it. To say nothing of what would happen if my parents received word that there was anything hinky going on near their secret base. Again, I was pretty damn sure they paid attention to stuff like that.


    So, it was thanks to Wren that this tunnel had any actual hope of succeeding. If we¡¯d been doing this blind, I doubted we would¡¯ve gotten this far. Or at least, we¡¯d have had a lot more problems doing it. And it would have taken a lot longer. All in all, she was the tunnel MVP.


    Not that Izzy fell far behind. With her making huge piles of dirt weightless so they could easily float out of the tunnel, it was kind of a race between the two of them for which was more indispensable. Maybe they could share the trophy when this was over.


    Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I looked to the others and painted a smiley face across the front of my helmet. ¡°So, you guys ready to do one last walk-through before Sunday? You know, just to make sure everything looks right.¡±


    I could hear the amusement in Pack¡¯s voice as she retorted, ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to go with Hobbes¡¯ plan to have someone sleep in the tunnel until then?¡±


    Wincing inwardly at the thought of how Murphy would react to that considering I¡¯d vetoed the thought earlier, I shook my head. ¡°Like I said when she brought it up, I¡¯d rather the tunnel get discovered and all our work end up useless than have someone here to get caught along with it. If they find it through the tunnel, having someone here won¡¯t help anything. We¡¯ve got Trevithick¡¯s scanners to let us know if someone shows up. Other than that, having someone stay here would just be more risk. If they find the empty tunnel, all they¡¯ll know is that someone was digging toward their base. Our work will be fucked, but that¡¯s it. But if they find someone here, they can get a hell of a lot more information.¡±


    Pack gave me a long look, shaking her head. ¡°You¡¯re pretty good at this subterfuge stuff for a thirteen-year-old kid. You sure you didn¡¯t grow up with spy parents or something? Your dad James Bond?¡± She was teasing, but it was clear that she was also curious.


    Coughing, I managed to shake my head and play it off. ¡°Just watch a lot of movies, I guess. Seriously, it¡¯s no big deal. We¡¯ll come back on Sunday and get in there.¡±


    ¡°And hopefully find something useful,¡± Izzy put in quietly. ¡°Or several useful things.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight,¡± Pack agreed with a nod that way. ¡°Personally, I¡¯m leaning towards the sort of useful that can make sure I¡¯m not getting ripped off in this whole system.¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Way muttered something amounting to god forbid she just want to do the right thing and fix the system.


    ¡°Hey, babe,¡± Pack informed her, ¡°I do want to fix the system. But I just happened to think it¡¯s a little more broken than you do, so breaking it down and working outside the system makes more sense to me than making myself a slave to it. Besides, I can make a profit for myself and be successful while still wanting to make the whole thing better for everyone else, you know?¡±


    Amber met her gaze, carefully asking, ¡°How does stealing from people and breaking things in the city make it better? How does taking part in a gang war that scares people so much they have to set up a curfew like this help fix the system?¡±


    For a moment, the other girl didn¡¯t respond. It looked as though she was considering how to answer. Finally, she straightened up. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m perfect. I can be selfish, sure. And I¡¯m loyal to a guy who isn¡¯t exactly a paragon of justice himself, to say the least. But like I said before, we have our standards. Even if they don¡¯t match yours, they still exist. And¡­¡± She paused, shifting on her feet. ¡°And maybe we do break some stuff and steal, but I promise, people who live in our territory don¡¯t exactly suffer. Blackjack wants his¡­ the people who live near us to be loyal. Or at least he doesn¡¯t want to give them reason to snitch or spy. Some gang leaders handle that through fear. And sure, there¡¯s a little bit of that. Just the way the system works. But for the most part, we take care of the Prevs who live around us. Me wanting to profit and succeed in this world doesn¡¯t mean I want a bunch of innocent people to suffer.¡±


    I could tell that Amber was thinking about that for a minute. This whole thing where she clearly liked Pack while still not being sure about her ethics or whatever was really doing a number on her. I was pretty sure that her dad being killed by some carjacker on a random joyride had really¡­ colored her perception of ¡®non-serious crimes¡¯ or whatever one might call it. As had finding out about the whole Ministry situation and her growing worry that they had done something to allow her father¡¯s killer to escape justice. Which, to be fair, wasn¡¯t exactly dissuaded by the fact that now we had literally seen them help Murphy¡¯s brother¡¯s killer escape. It made that whole thing seem even more plausible.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    So, all in all, Amber clearly had to reevaluate a lot of things lately. I was pretty sure that was actually why she was repeatedly pushing Pack about all that, because the things the other girl said made enough sense to Amber that she was reflexively pushing back against them, thanks to how much her entire worldview was being shaken.


    And if nothing else, I definitely understood what it was like for one¡¯s worldview to shake.


    Finally Amber spoke up. ¡°I know you¡¯re probably tired of me bringing it up. I know you¡¯re tired of defending yourself. You¡­  you can make your own choices. I just¡­¡± She hesitated, clearly considering her words for a moment before finishing with a quiet, ¡°I just feel like it¡¯s really easy to do things that you think aren¡¯t going to hurt anybody. Like rob a bank or steal a car and go on a joyride.¡± She managed to keep her voice relatively steady at that point. If I hadn¡¯t already known the truth, I might not have caught the emotion there. ¡°But there can be unintended consequences. People can get hurt or even die. It doesn¡¯t mean you meant for it to happen, just¡­ it happens all the time. Someone goes out, does something they think is just for fun and not a big deal, and then they hurt someone, or even kill them. Sometimes you can hurt people, or worse, even when you don¡¯t mean to. And I don¡¯t want you to go through something like that. You¡¯re my¨C you¡¯re a friend. I don¡¯t want you to take on that sort of guilt, because no matter what you say, I know you¡¯d feel guilty if you hurt someone like that. I¡¯ve been out there, Pack. I¡¯ve seen the survivors of that sort of situation. I¡¯ve seen how they react, the hate they can have for the people responsible for hurting them, even if they weren¡¯t a target. Even if it was an accident. The¡­ the hate that those people feel, I don¡¯t want anybody to feel that way about you. I don¡¯t want to tell you how to live your life or what choices to make. I just want you to never be in that position. I know, maybe that¡¯s dumb.¡±


    Pack seemed to consider that for a moment before shaking her head. ¡°It¡¯s not dumb, babe. I get it. But you¡¯re right, they¡¯re my choices. All I can say is, I¡¯ll be careful. And if I do ever hurt someone like that, if I ever killed someone, I¡¯d¡­¡± She trailed off before shaking her head. ¡°I dunno what I¡¯d do. I can¡¯t predict the future. But I¡¯ll tell you one thing. If that happened, I¡¯d be glad to have someone like you around to help give me some direction and advice. And the kids over there.¡± She nodded toward Izzy and me. ¡°Who, you know, are probably really hoping we shut up soon.¡±


    Fighting down the reaction at being called a kid, I made myself shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I just¡­  yeah, don¡¯t worry about it. You guys can keep talking if you want. I¡¯m gonna walk the tunnel one more time before Sunday, just to make myself feel a little less paranoid.¡± Pausing, I amended, ¡°You know, before I inevitably end up coming back here tomorrow and walking it ¡®one more time¡¯ again.¡± My hand rubbed the back of my neck self-consciously. ¡°But hey, if I¡¯m lucky, it¡¯ll only be those two times.¡± Another pause, then my head dropped a bit as I mumbled, ¡°It¡¯ll probably be more than those two times.¡±


    Izzy reached up to pat my back, her voice quiet yet still somewhat teasing. ¡°But that¡¯s still a no on the sleeping here plan?¡±


    Blushing under the helmet and mask, I huffed a bit. ¡°I might be paranoid, but I¡¯m not changing my mind about that being a bad idea. Anyway, anyone who wants to embrace the paranoia and walk with me, you¡¯re totally welcome.¡± With that, I stepped past the others to the tunnel entrance and started to move down it.


    As planned, the tunnel was six feet high. None of us were that tall, so we could technically have gotten away with making it smaller. But we didn¡¯t want to give them any help in narrowing down who we were, so six feet it was. It was also just wide enough for all of us to walk down it single-file with some elbow-room on both sides, or two at a time if we turned sideways and got close. The lights strung along the ceiling gave off just enough of a glow that we weren¡¯t walking completely in darkness, making the whole tunnel pretty creepy. We had used a bit of that concrete from the bags that were piled up on the pallet to cover the hole in the floor of the room above, along with a wooden frame that Fred put together, to build a cement archway around the entrance to the tunnel itself, and in a few more places along the way, in order to brace it.


    Pack and Way (Izzy stayed behind to cover up the hole in the floor if anyone came by) followed as I moved through the winding, twisting tunnel. It went down repeatedly, gradually getting lower and lower through most of its length as we had been working to avoid running into pipes or anything else. Even with Wren¡¯s device letting us know where they were, going deeper had been the best strategy for that.  Even so, the tunnel still wasn¡¯t very straight. Among other things, we had been avoiding what the scanner pointed out as being ¡®loose soil¡¯, places where digging might have caused a cave-in despite our precautions.


    Above our heads, cars were passing by on the street. We were deep enough that I could barely hear the rumble, like some sort of dragon or other monster slumbering far away in a cavern. Which only added to the general air of creepiness, of course.


    It was a long tunnel, crossing the entire distance from the motel construction area, passing under the street, and through most of the parking lot of the mall itself. We had been incredibly careful as soon as we¡¯d gotten that far, using Wren¡¯s scanner to show us views of the ground for twenty feet ahead of us at a time before very cautiously maneuvering our way closer to the main building.


    If we had been doing this the old-fashioned way, we almost certainly would have taken months to get this far. But more importantly, we would have been caught. The sort of heavy digging and drilling that would have been necessary would have set off all sorts of seismic activity alerts that I was sure my parents had. Thankfully, with the pink paint, we barely had to pull at the dirt and rock to get it out of there. We weren¡¯t making any more seismic activity than the cars passing by overhead. Probably less. Sure, it would have been faster to combine the pink paint and some heavy-duty equipment. But again, we were trying not to get caught.


    All in all, it had been a lot of long, hard, quiet work. But now we had managed to get the tunnel as close as we could. As I finally finished picking my way through that long, winding underground path, I found myself at the end of it. This spot, which we had widened out a bit more, similar to the entrance area, was where Wren¡¯s scanner had detected metal walls ahead. Twenty feet ahead and fifteen feet down, to be exact. From what the scanner could determine, it was the very corner edge of a wall. It couldn¡¯t tell us much more than that, but it did know what the wall was made out of, and it was far too heavy-duty to be some normal basement room. Not to mention being too deep. Yeah, this was definitely the place. Unless my family was sharing secret underground lair space with some other group.


    Everything seemed fine still, after several minutes of checking the scanner and putting my hand uselessly against the dirt wall. We weren¡¯t going to dig any closer to the base until we were ready to go in, given how easy it would be for them to find the tunnel if it was right up against the wall. Twenty feet away and fifteen feet up was probably still too close for comfort, but that¡¯s where we were. Sunday night we would dig the rest of the way in, get through the wall, and¡­ and then hope that there was useful stuff in the place.


    ¡°We won¡¯t have time to look through everything,¡± Way pointed out from behind me. ¡°It¡¯s gonna have to be a grab and run. Just get everything we can see, throw it all in bags, and get out again before they bring in reinforcements. We can look through it for anything useful later.¡±


    Nodding, I murmured, ¡°Yeah, no time for subtlety. Not when we know the sort of resources they probably have. We get in, split up to grab everything in sight. Especially hard drives. Grab all the papers, discs, hard drives, and whatever else we can find, then get the hell out. We don¡¯t want to be in there any longer than absolutely necessary.¡±


    ¡°Preaching to the choir, buddy,¡± Pack informed me with clearly put-on casualness. I could tell she was as nervous about all this as I felt. Well, maybe not as nervous. But still. ¡°Get in, grab stuff, get out,¡± she continued. ¡°And we compare notes about what we got once it¡¯s all safe and we¡¯re not in imminent danger of being disappeared by some super black ops team.¡±


    There was a bit more discussion about specifics, but eventually we made our way back out of the tunnel and rejoined Izzy, Riddles, and Twinkletoes in the room above. A bit of last-minute discussion followed before everyone split up. Way and Raindrop had their own actual patrol route to do before they ended up drawing attention for taking too long.


    Once they were gone, I looked over to where Pack was standing next to Scatters. The once-tiny lizard had grown into a full reindeer form. She could glow in the dark, but Pack wasn¡¯t having her do that at the moment for obvious reasons.


    ¡°Well, Paintboy,¡± she started while shifting the backpack (it was still linked to the cage with her other little friends) on her shoulders as she swung a leg up over the deer-lizard and into the saddle she had placed on her, ¡°guess I¡¯ll see you Sunday when we do this thing. Till then, keep it real.¡±


    With that, she gave a low whistle, and Scatters was gone. Seriously, she jumped thirty feet up and forward from a standing position to land on the roof of a bulldozer, then bounced off that to jump twice more in rapid succession, moving just as far each time. With those quick jumps, she landed against the side of a building, running along it with Pack clinging to her until she reached the roof.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I murmured, shaking my head in disbelief at the sight. That looked amazing. Someday, I was going to convince Pack to let me give it a shot.


    I was about to head out when my phone buzzed. No, not my phone. Not even my Touched phone. It was the phone I¡¯d taken from Wren¡¯s, the one we¡¯d used to call Irelyn. Blinking down at the unknown name and number, I frowned briefly before realizing that it could be Irelyn. Quickly, I hit the button on my voice changer to make it sound like a random guy, then answered. ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Paige Banners, please,¡± came a male voice.


    ¡°Uh, sorry, who is this?¡± Was this a friend of Irelyn¡¯s? Someone else trying to track her down using the number she¡¯d called the woman with?


    There was a brief pause, then the voice came back flatly. ¡°Give Paige the phone.


    ¡°This is her father.¡±

 Dig In 22-05

    Okay, apparently my heart was in decent shape. Because I managed to avoid going into cardiac arrest the second I heard the man on the phone say those words. Though it was a pretty near thing. My stomach flipped over and I spun around to look out into the darkness as though he had been standing right behind me, even if that was ridiculous. A thousand thoughts and questions were screaming through my head.


    I knew who it was immediately. When he said he was Paige¡¯s father, he wasn¡¯t Mr. Banners. Not the way he said it, not¨Cno. This was Pittman. Benjamin Pittman. I knew his voice from that time inside Paige¡¯s head, facing his digital doppelganger. It was him.


    What the hell? How did he get the phone number? How was he talking to me right now? Was he still on Breakwater? Did he do something to Irelyn? How? Was it one of his goons? Had they somehow found out that the woman was looking for Paige and took her? Was she alive? Was she okay? Fuck, fuck! How¨Cwhat? Paige and Raige were both going to lose their minds, lose¡­ lose everything. We had sent Irelyn down to Florida and now somehow Benjamin Pittman had the phone number we had been using to call her? There was no way that was a coincidence. It couldn¡¯t be. Something was really wrong. And when those two found out, they were going to¨C


    ¡°I¡¯m waiting,¡± the man snapped, his voice interrupting my panicked rush of thoughts. Clearly, this was a man who was accustomed to people immediately jumping to answer his questions and follow his orders. Probably because so many of the people he worked with were mindless drones he had built. ¡°Give the phone to my daughter, whoever you are. Unless you think she would prefer to never learn just how I acquired this number.¡±


    Grimacing for a brief moment, I tried to force down the panic so I could respond without sounding completely out of my depth. I was, of course, but I didn¡¯t want to sound like it. ¡°Sorry, she¡¯s not exactly here right now. You want me to have her call you back? Is this a good number to reach you at, or is there a Breakwater switchboard that we need to go through?¡± How I managed to get those words out and make them sound at all casual (and even snarky) while my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest was completely beyond me. There was obviously something really screwed up in my head.


    From the way the man on the other end of the line paused, I could tell he was taking a second to figure out how to respond to that. And probably smothering outrage that I wasn¡¯t immediately hopping to follow his every whim. When he finally spoke again, his voice had a forced, brittle calmness that wasn¡¯t at all convincing. ¡°I have very little time on this call, for reasons you obviously know. Take the phone to my daughter and make sure she has it Sunday evening at ten pm your time. I will call back then, and she had better answer. Otherwise, there will be consequences she does not want to bear. Do you understand me, boy?¡±


    Well, what was I supposed to say to that? I didn¡¯t dare mouth off to him too much, not when his men here in the States could possibly be holding Irelyn hostage. A rush of almost staggering guilt at the thought of what we had accidentally sent the helpless woman into ran through me, even as I swallowed hard before responding. ¡°Sunday night at ten. Got it. She¡¯ll have the phone then.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± came the snapped response. ¡°See that she does.¡±


    With that, the line went dead. He disconnected without another word. I was left standing there in the darkness of the construction site with the phone held to my ear in silence for a long moment before slowly lowering it. Although my mouth was silent, my brain definitely wasn¡¯t. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What was I supposed to do now? It was late, and I had no idea if Fred and Wren were even still awake, or if they had gone straight to bed. Could I disturb them just to get inside so I could talk to Paige and Raige? Would going there right this second to tell them what was going on be a good idea? We couldn¡¯t do anything about it right now anyway. But how angry would they be if I waited hours before telling them? Even if they couldn¡¯t actually do anything about it, they probably wouldn¡¯t like not being told. And yet¡­ and yet¡­ would it be worse to not tell them yet, or to go straight to the shop and wake up everyone there just to let Raige and Paige know that there was this huge problem they were completely incapable of doing anything about right then?


    In the end, I decided that waiting was the best choice. Again, no one could do anything about it right now. It was the middle of the night in Detroit, Irelyn hadn¡¯t answered the phone any of the other times we called, and now that crazy fuck had this number. That was all I knew, and it was impossible to actually do anything about it now. Not to mention the fact that tomorrow and the next day were already going to be busy with all the stuff I had lined up as it was.


    So, already feeling guilty about my decision, I started to head for home. I would sleep a few hours, give time for Wren and Fred to wake up, then go over there and¡­ and let Paige and Raige know what was going on. It definitely wasn¡¯t a conversation that I was looking forward to, but they needed to know. We could decide what to do about it from there, though I was pretty sure it would be limited to waiting for their father to call. Which was just super-fantastic.


    Clearly, I hadn¡¯t already had enough shit going on this weekend. I needed even more than all this to avoid total boredom. Maybe I¡¯d get lucky, and end up getting kidnapped by another gang leader for a face to face. Cu¨¦lebre hated me, right? And he had to be in a bad mood with everything that was going on over there. He could definitely show up right now and punch me in the face. I wouldn¡¯t even be that surprised.


    Okay, I was going to stop thinking about that and tempting fate, no matter how sarcastic my mental voice was. It was time to go home and sleep, or try to, before anything else happened.


    But hey, at least spending time with Tomas and Maki wouldn¡¯t be the most anxious part of my day anymore.


    ********


    The second Izzy and I were up later that morning, I made sure she knew I had something important to talk about. The two of us were on our way out the front door to take a car service ride before nine o¡¯clock, and yet both of my parents were already gone. From what one of the maids said, they had left by seven, despite the fact that my dad wasn¡¯t home until almost three.


    Yeah, they were obviously busy too. But I couldn¡¯t think too much about what all that was about. Probably just more stuff involving the gang war, yet¡­ no, Cassidy. I had to shove that out of my mind. I had enough to deal with right in front of me. My plate was full, so no reaching across to grab something else to pile it on even more. Whatever was going on with my family¡¯s business could wait. It would have to wait, no matter how paranoid my brain got about the possibilities.


    Having the driver drop us off by a small diner, the two of us grabbed some breakfast sandwiches to go, and ate while we walked down the street. Keeping my voice low despite the fact that there was no one around, I told the younger girl exactly what had happened in the middle of the night right after I¡¯d split off from her and the others.


    Needless to say, she was pretty freaked out upon learning about that call too. And she was just as worried about Irelyn and guilty about what we had sent the woman into. The two of us walked in silence for a minute once I¡¯d finished explaining the situation, but a quick glance that way showed me how Izzy¡¯s expression was twisting pensively. With a visible cringe, she finally announced, ¡°They¡¯re going to be really upset.¡±


    My own grimace immediately matched hers. ¡°Tell me about it. I wish I had a solution or more information to give¨Chang on.¡± Producing the phone from my pocket, I considered it for a second before looking at the other girl. ¡°Should I try calling Irelyn again? I mean, maybe Paige¡¯s dad was just bluffing when he implied that he had her. He could have just gotten the number without having her, somehow. Or maybe whoever has her actual phone will pick up.¡±


    ¡°Unless he has the phone,¡± Izzy pointed out flatly.


    ¡°How would he¨C¡± In mid-sentence, I stopped. ¡°Okay, I was going to ask how he could have gotten the phone, but obviously he has ways of calling out, even if he¡¯s limited on when and for how long. Maybe he had a way of having the phone sent to him on the island. Or¡­ or¡­¡± I trailed off, looking at the phone in my hand. Before I could change my mind, I tried calling Irelyn once more. No answer, of course. Unsurprising though still disappointing. A part of me had been desperately hoping that she would find me and reveal that Benjamin Pittman really had been bluffing.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    But of course, we weren¡¯t that lucky. After trying once more to no avail, I put the phone away, shoving it deep in my pocket while shaking my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do about it. I just¨Cfuck. God damn it. This whole thing is just so screwed up, you know?¡±


    With a slight nod, the other girl reached out to touch my arm. ¡°We need to go over there. You need to tell them what¡¯s going on. Even if they can¡¯t do anything about it right now, they need to know. They deserve to know.¡±


    She was right, of course. Letting out a long breath, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s get changed and go that way.


    ¡°I just hope Irelyn¡¯s okay. Because if she¡¯s not, I don¡¯t think anything, not even being on a secret island thousands of miles out in the ocean, is going to stop those two from going after their dad.¡±


    *******


    Izzy didn¡¯t end up accompanying me all the way to the shop. Not because she didn¡¯t want to, but there was a call from one of the officials back at the Minority base, asking for her to come in to help out with something. She couldn¡¯t exactly defer without drawing questions, so with a promise to check in later, she took another Uber that way. Or rather, to one of the secret entrances to the Minority base. Which was still freaking cool to hear about. The fact that they had doors scattered all over the city that would all transport them to the base¨Cor rather, the clubhouse as they called it¨C was awesome. And I would¡¯ve been even more enthused about learning more about how that worked if my focus wasn¡¯t on Irelyn, and what I had to tell Paige and Raige about all that.


    So, bracing myself for what I had to say, I changed into my costume before making my way to Wren¡¯s shop where she and Fred were waiting. They were barely up when I arrived, and even that only because I¡¯d called ahead. The two of them had just gotten dressed and were staring at me blearily as I handed the bag of food over as a peace offering. ¡°Sorry, guys. It¡¯s really important.¡±


    With that, I gave them a brief version of what happened the night before, telling the two about the phone call and my worries about what was now going on with Irelyn. Needless to say, it immediately woke them up even more than the scent of sausage and bacon had. Both of them had a lot of questions. Unfortunately, they were the same questions that I already had, so they wouldn¡¯t be getting any answers from me. Not immediately, anyway. Telling them I had to go upstairs and talk to the others, I left the two with the breakfast I brought over and went up, dreading the conversation that I was about to have.


    Needless to say, Paige and Raige were both confused as to why I was back so soon. They immediately asked if Irelyn had called, which made me wince. I thought my reaction was subtle, but Paige¡¯s eyes immediately narrowed. She was half-sitting up, her back slumped against the corner of the couch. ¡°What is it? What happened?¡±


    Right, there would be no beating around the bush for this. They needed to know the whole truth. So, taking a deep breath, I quietly told them exactly what had happened from the moment the phone had buzzed in my pocket. I told them exactly what I had said and what he said. And what he implied.


    Before I knew what was happening, Paige¡¯s body was on its feet. She¨Cor rather they¨C jerked upward and lashed out with a punch toward the nearby wall, hitting hard enough to put a slight dent in it despite the fact that I was pretty sure it was reinforced. At the same time, they (and it was definitely both of them) blurted, ¡°I¡¯ll kill him!¡±


    Only then did the two of them seem to realize what had just happened. Paige had a look of confusion and surprise, just before her entire body collapsed. One leg went one way, her arm flailed out, and her head sort of jerked a little. It was like they were both trying to control the body and it wasn¡¯t working. Not when they weren¡¯t completely in sync.


    Quickly moving that way, I took a knee. ¡°Are you guys okay? Look, he¡¯s going to call back Sunday. Like I said, he wants you to be here to answer the phone. Well, Paige anyway. He didn¡¯t say anything about Raige. I guess he doesn¡¯t know what happened there, or if¨CI dunno. But I¡¯m pretty sure he doesn¡¯t know you¡¯re around. He definitely doesn¡¯t know the whole situation.¡±


    I was obviously rambling a little bit, so I cut myself off and simply helped them turn over. I could see the anger and frustration on their face. What they really wanted to do in that moment was somehow teleport to that island and beat their father¡¯s face until there was nothing but a puddle of unrecognizable mushy liquid left.


    Finally, Raige spoke first. ¡°Either he has Irelyn or some of his people do. Which¡­¡± She trailed off, then added, ¡°We need to say it.¡±


    The same mouth spoke then, but it was obviously Paige. ¡°It¡¯s not our place to expose that.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s relevant, Paige,¡± came the response from Raige. ¡°You know it¡¯s relevant. She deserves to know the whole story. If she doesn¡¯t, and something happens to Irelyn because she didn¡¯t know¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the she, right?¡± I quickly cut in, frowning in confusion. ¡°What exactly should I know? What¡¯s going on? Is there something you haven¡¯t told me about this whole thing?¡±


    There was a long pause as Paige clearly considered and debated internally. Actually, she was probably literally debating with Raige inside their head. Whatever this was about, it was big enough that she was still resisting the idea of talking about it. Finally, her eyes shifted to focus on me, her voice quiet. ¡°Help us get over to the couch. Then I¡­ then we can talk.¡±


    Okay, now I was very confused. But I shook that off and did as she asked, helping them get the body up and over to sit down once more. Dropping next to them, I squinted. ¡°Now are you going to tell me what all that was about? What do I not know about what¡¯s going on? Because if there¡¯s something big, I should probably know about it before we try to plan anything.¡± Inside, I was trying to think of what Paige could possibly have been holding back. I was trying not to be paranoid and understand that she had a reason to keep quiet about whatever it was, but a part of me was angry at the thought that she had been keeping more secrets. Truthfully, I was pretty sure most of it was my lingering hang-ups and personal feelings about the past few years of dealing with the way Paige had been forced to act. But knowing that didn¡¯t make it go away.


    There was another momentary pause before Paige answered. ¡°I want you to know that your secret is safe with me. I wouldn¡¯t tell anyone who you really are or¡­ or any of that unless it was an absolute emergency and¡­ and telling people like Alloy your real identity was the only way to save you.¡± As she spoke, her gaze met mine intently. ¡°I promise, I take keeping secrets like that seriously. I would only tell someone if it was completely necessary.¡±


    My head shook slowly. ¡°Okay, I guess I¡¯m glad you¨Cwait.¡± Yes, I had been slow on the uptake, probably because of how distracted I was about everything going on. But even I wasn¡¯t that slow. It came crashing into my head as I gave a sharp double-take, my eyes widening. ¡°Wait, wait a second. Are you saying¨Care you¨Cis Irelyn a¨C¡± Abruptly, I shoved myself to my feet, spinning on my heel to stare down at them as my mouth worked a few times in total disbelief. ¡°Who?¡± The word came blurting its way out after a few false starts and sputters. ¡°You¡¯re saying Irelyn is Touched? Who is she? Is she Star or Fell? Wait, is she Deicide? Is she Brumal? Is¨C¡± I was trying to sort through all my mental images of female Touched in the city who could possibly match her description, or at least get close to it.


    Then it occurred to me. One Touched who hadn¡¯t been seen in the city for these past couple weeks who could possibly fit. ¡°Trivial,¡± I blurted. ¡°She¨Cno, fuck. She can¡¯t be Trivial. Trivial only came over from the Nebraska Minority last year. She¨C¡± I frowned, realizing who the other person who had been missing for awhile was. ¡°Wait¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Paige confirmed flatly, her gaze meeting mine. ¡°You got it.¡±


    Okay, now I was reeling again. ¡°Irelyn is Flea? But she looks¨CI mean she¡¯s not¡­¡± Trailing off in the midst of pointing out that the woman¡¯s eyes looked Asian through the mask, I remembered the way Amber¡¯s costume turned her hair from black to blonde and as part of that, shifted her facial features slightly to look different than her normal self. ¡°Oh. But that still, um, feels a little wrong?¡± It wasn¡¯t quite blackface or¨Cbut it wasn¡¯t great. Yeah, not great. But it did help keep her identity secret.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t alter her face,¡± Paige informed me as though reading my mind. ¡°Her grandmother¡¯s Japanese, but she mostly takes after her father. If you block everything else and only see her eyes, you can see the resemblance. Anyway, she¡¯s been doing that since she was on the Minority. From back in the old days, you know, when Touched were first becoming a thing.¡±


    She was right, I remembered. Flea had been one of the earliest Touched in the city, and definitely the youngest as far as I was aware. At least the youngest who had joined a team and actively done anything. She wasn¡¯t quite there at the start, but it was only a couple years into things, back when they were still working out the details in the system. Flea had been a little kid back then. It was part of why she used the name Flea. She was tiny and jumped around a lot. Between that and her health/stamina draining power, Flea fit. She just kept the name as she grew up. Probably because it meant a lot to her by that point.


    ¡°Keeping identities secret was harder back then,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°They didn¡¯t have the system and rules that exist now, so they had to be very careful, especially with Irelyn being as young as she was. Her parents wanted her to¨Cthey wanted to profit off what she could do, the way parents of a child actor or model can. But they needed her identity to stay secret, so they came up with that. No one would even look twice at Irelyn Banners because they¡¯d be looking for an Asian girl.¡±


    My mouth opened and shut a couple times before I grimaced. ¡°That makes sense. And if she is part-Asian it¡¯s not nearly as¡­ Anyway, I guess the point is she¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s Flea. Wait, we talked to her! I talked to her, repeatedly! We told her about the whole Cup situation. We¨Cshe was¨Cthe whole time I¨C¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Raige (don¡¯t ask how I knew it was her) confirmed. ¡°That was her. And now she¡¯s in trouble.¡±


    I had no idea what to do with this new information. My mind was spinning. ¡°I¨Cif he knows she¡¯s¨Coh. How does he¨Cbut how did¨Cif she¡¯s¨C¡± Yup, definitely spinning. ¡°What do we do?¡±


    ¡°Answer the phone when he calls Sunday,¡± Paige answered.


    ¡°And you guys get me a body,¡± Raige added.


    ¡°So both of us can go rip him apart limb from limb.¡±

 Dig In 22-06

    ¡°That son of a bitch!¡± Amber¡¯s words were accompanied by the sound of her fist slamming down into the wooden table that she, Izzy, and I were sitting at in a corner of the random park I had brought them to so I could explain the whole situation with Benjamin Pittman. We were all dressed in our civilian clothes so we wouldn¡¯t attract attention, though I was pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t matter what we were dressed in if too many people heard that sort of outburst. Thankfully, the park was basically empty at this point. Probably because so many people didn¡¯t feel safe being out on the streets with the war going on.


    Izzy, meanwhile, slumped back on the bench, staring intently off into the distance with her brow furrowed. ¡°Do¡­ do you think he has her? Or did he just get the phone number? Can they tell where the call came from, or from what phone?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°According to Wren, that¡¯s being blocked on their end just like it¡¯s blocked on ours. Well, not just like. She went into some long technical explanation, but the end result is the same. We don¡¯t know where it¡¯s coming from. It could be the same phone or a different one. She said that maybe she can do something more with the call that comes in tomorrow, but she¡¯s not sure. Depends on how well he or his people are blocking the signal or whatever.¡±


    Amber was sighing heavily. ¡°I can¡¯t believe after everything you guys did to get Paige¡¯s sister out of danger, now she¡¯s suddenly right in the middle of it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Trailing off, I looked back and forth between the two of them. I was wondering if either or both of them knew that Irelyn Banners was Flea. So far, they hadn¡¯t reacted as though they did, but maybe they were just extraordinarily good at hiding it. Which I didn¡¯t blame them for. If they did know, they probably saw it as not their place to expose the woman¡¯s identity. Even though it was important information. I was having that same problem. They worked alongside her all the time and if they didn¡¯t know who she was, it was because she didn¡¯t want them to. But on the other hand, if I asked about it, they would know, and I would be taking that choice away from her. Yet on the third hand, knowing who she was could end up being incredibly important in the future if we had to help her.


    I just¡­ I had no idea. Just like talking about my family, bringing up the subject wasn¡¯t something I could do over. It almost makes me wish that my power included the ability to rewind in case I did something wrong. What color paint would that be?


    ¡°Cass?¡± Amber was looking at me curiously. ¡°Is something wrong? Err, I mean something beyond the obvious.¡±


    No, I couldn¡¯t talk about it right now. It wasn¡¯t my place to expose who Irelyn really was if they didn¡¯t know. At least not right at this moment. Maybe once we knew more about what was going on, I could make a better decision. If Benjamin Pittman just had the phone number or the phone itself and Irelyn was free, that would be a very different sort of situation than if he or his men had her. Yeah, that was my best move. I would hold off on telling these two the truth about her until I knew more. Which sounded a bit like a cop-out in my head, but what else was I supposed to do? If I flat out told them when I didn¡¯t need to, I would be exposing someone else¡¯s secret identity, and I knew for sure how I would feel if someone did that to me.


    It might turn out that I didn¡¯t have a choice, but for the moment, I wasn¡¯t going to leap that far. So, I shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of things wrong. And I¡¯m nervous about this whole tunnel thing. It¡¯s a lot more important now, you know? I mean, not that it wasn¡¯t important before, but we need to get done with this. We need to get in there and find a new body for Raige.¡±


    ¡°She wants to help?¡± Amber asked, frowning thoughtfully. ¡°I thought she was gonna take her new body and run off on her own.¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that was her original plan, but now she wants to deal with their dad. Honestly, I don¡¯t know how much of that is because she cares about Irelyn, and how much is because she¡¯s pissed at Benjamin for betraying and trying to kill her. Maybe six of one, half a dozen of another. But either way, she wants to be involved now. And I¡¯m not going to argue against that, considering we could use all the help we can get.¡±


    Izzy picked herself up from the table, arms folded against her chest as she turned to look out at the distant street. ¡°Do you think we should move up the plan to get in the base? I mean, we don¡¯t know how long their sister might have, or how much trouble she¡¯s in.¡±


    I thought about it briefly before shaking my head. ¡°Wren needs all the time she can get to run the suits through last minute checks. She¡¯s already working her butt off. I think she said something about expecting a shipment of important stuff for this sometime today. Whatever it is, I don¡¯t want to stress her out even more by taking a full day away from her. The poor kid needs more time, you know? Tomorrow night is already soon enough.¡± Wincing at my own words, I amended, ¡°At least, I hope it is.¡± Thoughts about how guilty I would feel if it turned out that that time had been crucial when this was over ran through my head, but I stuck to it. I was worried about Irelyn, yet if we went rushing in there without everything being ready, we stood a good chance of losing everything. So, hard as it was, we had to just wait, and hope that the woman was okay.


    Shaking off those thoughts, I took a deep breath. ¡°And now I have to go spend time with my ex and his new boyfriend so I can try to figure out what either or both of them have to do with my family¡¯s criminal empire.¡± A brief pause followed before my face twisted.


    ¡°On second thought, maybe going straight into that tunnel and getting into a fight with a bunch of murderers isn¡¯t such a bad plan after all.¡±


    *******


    In the end, of course, I went with the smarter plan, no matter how much it made my stomach twist itself into knots. Part of me wished I could justify making excuses to not show up, but Wren really did need time to finish her thing. And we weren¡¯t even sure if Pack would be able to get away from La Casa today. Not to mention I didn¡¯t want to attract any new problems by changing plans at the last second. Going in half-cocked was a recipe for disaster.


    So, I showed up at the mall food court as planned. I was a few minutes early, and yet I could see Tomas and Maki sitting together at one of the tables, talking and laughing together. It was a sight that made me pause, my stomach trying to do a three-sixty pop shove-it (skateboarding trick) inside my torso.


    I was early. They probably wanted more time alone. I would be interrupting if I went over there. This whole thing was a bad idea, a terrible idea. I should just turn around and walk out. I could call on my way through the parking lot and tell Tomas I couldn¡¯t make it. Even if I didn¡¯t go into the tunnel today, obviously there was other stuff I could do. I could go back and help Wren at the shop. That was even more important than spending time figuring out what was up with Maki, wasn¡¯t it? At the very least, it was of more immediate importance. I wasn¡¯t a technical genius or anything, but I could hold stuff or fetch things for Wren. I could totally help out around there. Yeah, that made sense. Getting everything ready to go into the tunnel was a lot more important right now. There was no need for me to be here, no need for me to¨C


    ¡°Cassie!¡± Tomas, of course, had noticed me as I stood there indecisively, and was now waving to get my attention. ¡°Over here!¡±


    Well fuck, now I didn¡¯t have a choice. I couldn¡¯t exactly turn around and walk away before calling to make excuses. That probably wouldn¡¯t go over very well. Even if¨Cno, Cassidy. Pushing all such thoughts out of my mind, I took a deep breath and walked that way while forcing a smile that I hoped was at least vaguely convincing. ¡°There you guys are. I thought you¡¯d be a lot harder to find. This place isn¡¯t very busy, huh?¡±


    Maki had already stood up and turned, tugging a chair out for me. Their gaze met mine with a smile that seemed both genuine and curious. ¡°Good to see you again, Miss Evans.¡±


    My face twisted once more and I gave a quick, almost frantic headshake while sliding into the chair they had pulled out. ¡°Cassidy. Just Cassidy. Or Cass. Or¨Cwhatever. Call me Dumbo for all I care. Just not Miss Evans, nothing like that.¡±


    ¡°Hey, is that D¨C¡± Tomas started.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Dumbo is not open to you too,¡± I retorted before he could continue. ¡°That offer is only open to your better half here.¡± My head nodded toward Maki before I added, ¡°Maybe I should call him your better three-quarters? How much would you say you¡¯re contributing to this whole thing?¡±


    ¡°Ouch.¡± Putting a hand against his heart, Tomas made a show of groaning. ¡°A mortal wound, and only five seconds into the outing. However will I survive the hours ahead of us?¡±


    ¡°Maybe you won¡¯t,¡± I primly replied. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll die, and then your boyfriend and I can have all the fun we were all gonna have today but for two-thirds of the cost.¡±


    Yeah, I had no idea how I managed to sound so casual and even tease him like that. Inwardly, I was a mess. Maybe it just came from the practice I had with hiding my real feelings from my family and acting normal around them. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I genuinely wasn¡¯t sure.


    Tomas interrupted my musings by rapping his fist against the table. ¡°Okay, well, until I keel over and give both of you a cheaper outing, why don¡¯t we get this show on the road? I know we said we¡¯d get lunch first, but I was thinking we should work up an appetite. And, as I recall, you were saying a lot of big words about how you were going to check my arse at the mini-golf in this place. So let¡¯s see if you can put your rented club where your mouth is.¡±


    ¡°Ew,¡± I retorted, ¡°I¡¯m not putting one of those clubs anywhere near my mouth. Do you have any idea what sort of people hold them? That¡¯s disgusting.¡±


    ¡°She has a point,¡± Maki confirmed, looking at Tomas with a shrug. ¡°That is pretty gross, and I have to say, if you let one of those clubs anywhere near your mouth, we might have to break up.¡±


    ¡°No licking rented sports equipment, got it.¡± Pantomiming checking that off an invisible list, Tomas added, ¡°It¡¯s important to know the do¡¯s and don¡¯ts of any relationship.¡± He glanced toward me, mouth opening as though he was going to say something. But then he caught himself and gave a slight headshake, clearly thinking better of it. Instead, the boy simply rose to his feet. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t change the fact that Cass over here has been talking a lot of shite about her golfing, and it¡¯s time for her to put up or¡­ well, put up.¡± He winked at me. ¡°Sorry, can¡¯t let you get away with just shutting up. Not now.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I shot back, pushing myself up as well before poking him in the chest. ¡°Cuz I wasn¡¯t planning on it. In fact, I may kick your butt so bad that our next stop will be the hospital so you can get some ointment.¡±


    Maki, looking back and forth between us, asked, ¡°Were you two this competitive while you were dating?¡±


    ¡°Worse,¡± Tomas informed him. ¡°She¡¯s mellowed out lately.¡± With a wink my way, the boy gestured. ¡°And she¡¯ll mellow out even more once she loses, so let¡¯s get that over with.


    ¡°After all, how good could she be at mini-golf?¡±


    ******


    As it happened, the answer to Tomas¡¯s question was apparently ¡®very good.¡¯ Which, yes, was partly because I had practiced at our home course. But I was also pretty sure that my spatial awareness power or whatever the hell it was helped a lot. Not that I was trying to cheat or anything, but I just¡­ knew where to hit the ball to be most efficient. It wasn¡¯t perfect, and I did my best not to overly exploit it, even going so far as to intentionally miss a few times. But still, I scored the best on the mall course I ever had.


    I wasn¡¯t the only one who did really well either. Maki actually kept pace with me, their own score remaining neck and neck with mine throughout the course. I had no idea what being able to shapeshift from male to female and back again had to do with being good at mini-golf. But then again, I didn¡¯t know what projecting paint that provided various effects had to do with being good at mini-golf either. Maybe Touched were just naturals at it. Or¨Cyeah, I had no idea.


    Even Tomas wasn¡¯t having a terrible day, but he couldn¡¯t keep up with the two of us, and the whole match rapidly became a two-person race. I was even fine with letting Maki win, shoving down the competitive spirit that tried to take over once or twice. But when I started intentionally doing worse, Maki still didn¡¯t pull ahead. It was like they were matching their own game to mine, or something. I started to think they were trying to do the same thing I was trying to do, let the other person win by just a little bit. While still beating Tomas, of course. I wasn¡¯t feeling that uncompetitive.


    In the end, I managed to let Maki take the lead on the last hole, close as it was. At that point we still weren¡¯t that hungry, so the three of us went to see a movie in the mall theater before heading back to the food court for lunch. Obviously, I didn¡¯t get much of a chance to talk during the show, so that was basically a wash as far as finding out more about Maki went. Thankfully, golfing and eating were a different story. I had to talk a fair bit about myself and my family, of course, so it didn¡¯t come off like an interrogation. But that still gave me an excuse to ask questions as well. I managed to find out things like Maki¡¯s parents¡¯ names, general ages, a few dates of when they had lived in different places that I could maybe use to check against stuff I might end up finding in my family¡¯s secret base¨Cthe one just under our feet, actually¨C and a couple other things that probably weren¡¯t important.


    This was hard. I couldn¡¯t even act like I knew that Maki was both male and female, let alone ask the sort of questions I really wanted to. I came close a couple of times to just grabbing them by the shoulders and demanding to know what they knew about everything. Especially about why they had been arguing with what was presumably their family before Tomas¡¯s dad showed up and took them away in his own car. But something told me being that open about it wouldn¡¯t lead to anything good, or useful. Or even if it did, I probably wouldn¡¯t like dealing with the cost.


    ¡°Now see, this is what confuses me.¡± That was Tomas, lounging in his seat in the food court where we had our food spread out over the table. ¡°My chips?¡± He picked up one of his french fries, studied it, then popped it into his mouth and considered. ¡°They¡¯re okay. Cassie¡¯s chips?¡± His hand sneaking out, grabbing one of mine before I could stop him from eating that as well. ¡°Better than mine. Probably because they¡¯re stolen and everyone knows how much better crime food tastes. But still¡­¡± His hand moved to Maki¡¯s tray then, taking one of their fries. That one he put in his mouth and savored with a murmur. ¡°But these ones? These ones are perfect. Plump, crispy, hot, just the right amount of salt, just¡­ perfect. How does that happen? We all got our food from the same place at the same time. So how does he end up with chips that are so much better than either of us?¡±


    Visibly blushing, Maki squirmed a bit in their seat before offering a shrug. ¡°Pretty sure it¡¯s just in your head. You know, that stolen food being better thing. Is that an actual thing, or did you make it up?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s definitely a thing,¡± Tomas confirmed. ¡°Criminal food always tastes better.¡± He stopped to think about that before musing, ¡°Not that I¡¯ve had a lot of it, but I do remember sneaking into my family¡¯s fridge after midnight to eat a Scotch egg after I was supposed to be in bed, and they always tasted better then.¡±


    Blinking at him, I asked, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, eating a what?¡±


    ¡°Scotch egg?¡± He looked at me, head tilting. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you people don¡¯t even know what those are.¡±


    Maki spoke up then, taking pity on my confusion. ¡°It¡¯s a boiled egg that¡¯s been wrapped in sausage and then covered with breading before being baked or deep-fried. You might¡¯ve heard of it as a bird¡¯s nest or something like that.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Nope, I am pretty sure I¡¯ve never heard of anything like that.¡±


    ¡°Your loss,¡± Tomas informed me. ¡°Well, I could say they taste better stolen in the middle of the night when you¡¯re supposed to be asleep. So maybe you could get your parents to buy some, then sneak downstairs and take them in the middle of the night. Pretty sure that¡¯s the only way you¡¯ll get the full effect.¡±


    I started to tell the boy that I would get right on that, but before I could, Maki abruptly stood up while blurting what sounded like a curse in Japanese. Immediately, they flushed a bit self-consciously before apologizing. ¡°This has been a lot of fun, really. We should do it again. But I¡¯ve got to go help my family deal with something.¡± They waved their phone vaguely, as though that explained anything.¡±


    Tomas blinked that way. ¡°You haven¡¯t finished your food yet? And¨C¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Maki interrupted. Their face twisted a little. Partly with guilt about taking off so unexpectedly, I was sure, but also something else. It looked like they were almost in pain, like they were barely holding themselves together.


    Or stopping themselves from shifting, I realized. I didn¡¯t know if Tomas knew about their power, but I certainly wasn¡¯t supposed to. Not to mention anyone else who might notice in the middle of this food court. The place was even less busy than it had been earlier, but it wasn¡¯t exactly empty. What if Maki couldn¡¯t control their shifts that well? Were they running off and making weak excuses about it because they were about to shift sex from male to female?


    While I was still realizing what was probably going on, Maki had already made another apology before heading off. They were walking quickly, slipping between a couple crowded tables on their way to what looked like the exit. Which made me wonder just how long they could hold off their shift, if that was what the issue was.


    ¡°I promise, it wasn¡¯t you.¡± That was Tomas, noticing the way my gaze was following Maki. ¡°He¡¯s just like that sometimes. You know, has to run off and take care of one thing or another. I think he gets overwhelmed. Just don¡¯t take it personally. He liked you. Likes you, I mean.¡±


    Shaking off all the thoughts running through my head, I managed a smile. ¡°That¡¯s cool. I like him too. I mean¡­ you did well. You did good. You¡¯re good. You¡¯re¨Cthis is awkward.¡± Wincing, I took a breath before letting it out. ¡°I¡¯m glad you found someone that¡¯s cool to be with. It would¡¯ve sucked to lose you to someone who was terrible.¡±


    ¡°So I shouldn¡¯t date Arleigh or Paige, got it,¡± the boy remarked with a wink before considering. ¡°Speaking of which, how long do you think Paige is gonna be gone? I know it was her birthday and her parents are rich and all, but even they can¡¯t keep her out of school for the rest of the semester.¡±


    Coughing despite myself, I shrugged. ¡°Who knows? I mean, I¡¯m not a fortune teller or anything.


    ¡°But something tells me we¡¯ll be seeing Paige again pretty soon.¡±

 Dig In 22-07

    ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t planning something dangerous.¡±


    The words from my father came at dinner the next evening as we all sat at the table. I had been lost in thought about what would be happening later that night oh, only to be drawn out of it by his voice. Jolting a little, I forced any guilt away from my expression before looking up. ¡°Uh, what?¡± Smooth, Cassidy. With casual and expert deflections like that, I was practically a secret agent. Call me Double-Oh Paint, starring in No Time To Dye.


    Okay, that one was bad even for me. Thankfully, I was interrupted from dwelling too much on it when my father raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯ve barely touched your food and you keep looking at the wall with that thoughtful look that tells me I¡¯m about two days away from getting a call from the school, the hospital, or both. Please tell me you don¡¯t have some new trick in mind.¡±


    Blushing despite myself, I inwardly cursed at the fact that I¡¯d let myself focus too much on stuff I really shouldn¡¯t be thinking about around my family. My head shook. ¡°No sir, no new tricks here.¡±


    Dad squinted at me, glanced toward my mother, then back again. ¡°I sure hope not. After all, you¡¯re getting closer and closer to graduating from that driver¡¯s ed class. And from what I hear, you might just make it with a passing grade.¡±


    Clearing her throat, Mom pointedly put in, ¡°A passing grade by our standards, that is. Which, you may find, is somewhat higher than the educational system.¡± And yet, even though she was trying to sound stern then, she clearly couldn¡¯t help the small, proud smile that came when she looked at me. ¡°I am certain you are up to maintaining that standard.¡±


    Yelling at myself that I really had to make things seem as normal as possible now that my father had noticed my distraction, I forced a casual shrug. ¡°Yeah, well, I mean if Lite-Brite over there can pass your driving requirements, I think I¡¯ll probably be okay.¡±


    While Simon made a face at me, Izzy blinked. ¡°Lite-Brite?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I confirmed while shifting in my seat to glance at the girl next to me. ¡°Or Monopoly, Hungry Hungry Hippo, Battleship, Guess Who, Trouble, Clue, or any other game I could think of when I was your age. You know, cuz his name¡¯s Simon. Like Simon Says. I used to just pick a random game and call him that whenever I wanted his attention.¡±


    ¡°And for the record, I still can¡¯t believe you guys let her get away with that,¡± Simon complained.


    Dad chuckled, exchanging a brief look with my mother before offering Simon a shrug. ¡°I hate to tell you this, champ, but when it comes to little sisters calling you things, you got off pretty light with board games. Besides, honestly, your mother and I had a bet going to see how long it took her to get to ones like Scattergories and Boggle. Though I will admit, she got to Candy Land faster than expected.¡±


    ¡°Ahem.¡± Mom gave Dad a pointed squint before looking back to us. ¡°What your father means to say is that it¡¯s very nice to see when our children can get along and be nice to one another.¡± She paused deliberately, making a show of considering her words. ¡°Rare, but nice.¡±


    Picking up from the table, I moved to the side where the pitchers of iced tea and juice were, pouring myself a fresh glass of the former. Then I asked if the others wanted any and ended up refilling Izzy¡¯s juice and Simon¡¯s iced tea as well. Placing the glass in front of my brother last, I gave him a too-sweet smile. ¡°See? I can be nice.¡±


    ¡°Oh, nice, huh?¡± Simon gave me a look, and I had a brief flash of danger run through my mind before he pushed back on his chair and yanked me over by the arm. Before I knew what was happening, he had me in a headlock and was running his knuckles over my hair while I yelped. ¡°Yup, super-nice! Nice hair, nice yelping, and I bet¡­¡± His hand moved away from my hair, but he wasn¡¯t letting me go. Instead, he started to tickle me. ¡°Nice and squirmy!¡±


    ¡°Ahh! St-aahaha-stop-ahhh stop!¡± Squealing and kicking my legs out, I struggled, but couldn¡¯t find any leverage in that position. He had me half-yanked off the floor and over his chair, one arm keeping me trapped in that headlock while his other hand tickled all along my side. In the background, I could hear Mom saying something, but couldn¡¯t pick out the actual words. It didn¡¯t sound like she was too angry or anything though, and Simon didn¡¯t immediately release me.


    Finally, he let me go, standing me back up before poking me in the stomach. ¡°See that? Don¡¯t forget, I¡¯m still the big brother, Booster.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a big something, alright,¡± I retorted, my face flushed. ¡°Pretty sure I can think of a few words more appropriate than brother.¡±


    Once again, Mom cleared her throat. ¡°Go back to your seat, Cassidy,¡± she gently yet firmly chided. ¡°This is, after all, family dinner. Not, ahh, WrestleMania?¡±


    Squinting first at her, then at me as I found my way to my seat, Simon asked, ¡°Is it just me, or is Mom saying WrestleMania really weird?¡±


    ¡°Definitely weird,¡± I agreed. ¡°Like hearing a priest curse. Or¨C¡± Reconsidering that, I amended, ¡°Actually, I think hearing a priest curse would be less weird.¡±


    Sniffing once, Mom primly informed us, ¡°I¡¯ll have both of you know that your father and I have attended a good number of wrestling events. I do have a life outside of lecturing my children. Even if they often do their best to make that a full career.¡±


    Oh boy did I want to ask what sort of life it was and what she liked to do when she wasn¡¯t being my mother. Including a few specific time and date verifications. But that felt like it might be pushing things.


    Simon, on the other hand, lifted his chin while slyly replying, ¡°Sure, a life. That I buy. You go to all sorts of, like, charity auctions, dances, even musicals. Maybe golf for a sport. But anything involving wrestling? Yeah, sure. If I asked you who your favorite wrestler was, you¡¯d probably¨C¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, from the nineties and early two thousands? Either Mick Foley or the Undertaker,¡± Mom informed him. ¡°And yes, I was there for their Hell in a Cell. But as for the Touched division these days¡­¡± She considered for a moment before nodding decisively. ¡°Definitely Iron Grimes.¡±


    Feeling Izzy tug at my sleeve, I looked that way before the younger girl quietly asked, ¡°Is your mom serious, or did she just say that to mess with Simon?¡±


    I was just realizing that I had no idea what the answer to that was, when Dad chuckled while speaking up. ¡°As it happens, your mother is the one who talked me into investing in the fledgling Touched division of wrestling back in the day. I was a bit skeptical, but she saw the potential.¡± He was smiling that way, and the two of them exchanged the sort of tender looks that would have made a younger me gag on my finger. It was the sort of look that almost always precipitated¨Cyup there it was. They kissed.


    Simon waited what he apparently thought was an appropriate amount of time (two seconds) before speaking up. ¡°Hey, hey, come on. Doesn¡¯t the poor innocent child over there deserve better than to be traumatized by you two being gross?¡±


    While Izzy protested that she was fine, Dad reached over to lightly swat Simon on the shoulder. ¡°Just bear in mind, boy, someday you¡¯ll want to bring someone you care about around to the table, and I¡¯ll remember eeeeevery moment like this.¡±


    Shrugging, I put in, ¡°Well, first he¡¯d have to get someone to come home with him who actually wants to do the kissing thing, so I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s safe on that front.¡±


    ¡°Oh I think someone needs another headlock,¡± Simon declared, teasing as though he was going to push himself up and come around the table after me.


    ¡°Someone,¡± Mom pointedly declared, ¡°needs to stay in his seat and remember that as exciting as wrestling can be, it has its time and place.¡± To punctuate her words, she took a sip of her wine while watching Simon with a cool gaze. She hadn¡¯t raised her voice or anything like that. She didn¡¯t need to.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky this time,¡± Simon noted with a squint my way. ¡°But watch out next time you¡¯re in arm¡¯s reach.¡±


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    ¡°Son, much as I don¡¯t think encouraging any underhanded behavior is a good idea,¡± Dad put in dryly after setting his own wine glass down, ¡°maybe you could reconsider making threats against your sister within earshot of your parents. Particularly with Izzy here.¡± His eyes passed back and forth between us to make sure we were paying attention. ¡°I had hoped that both of you would set a better example.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± the younger girl quietly insisted, ¡°I kind of like this kind of example.¡±


    Her words made my parents exchange glances. Some sort of silent communication passed between them before Mom turned back to us. ¡°Yes, well, on that note, before dessert comes, perhaps it¡¯s time to have a conversation that has been some time coming.¡±


    ¡°A conversation?¡± I found myself echoing, glancing toward the girl next to me before turning back that way. ¡°What conversation?¡± A brief spike of paranoia about what they could possibly know jumped into my mind, but I shoved it back down with some effort. Now was definitely not the right time to panic.


    Dad took a breath, offering a reassuring smile. ¡°A good one, we hope.¡± His gaze turned from me to the other girl as he continued. ¡°Izzy, I hope that you understand just how much we enjoy having you here, and how much it feels like you¡¯ve filled a void in this household ever since you came. Whatever the circumstances behind your arrival, Elena and I are incredibly grateful that it happened. You are a brilliant, talented young woman, who deserves to succeed at everything you put your energy and mind toward.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s hand was tight on her glass, before she abruptly released it and dropped both arms to her side. ¡°You want me to leave.¡± Her voice was dull with resignation, as if she had been expecting something like this but was still hurt deeply that it had come. ¡°It¡¯s alright, I¨C¡±


    ¡°Isidora, no.¡± Mom¡¯s head shook intently. ¡°No, nothing like that. The opposite, in fact. We don¡¯t want you to go. Thus far, you have been living with us under temporary guardianship. Our friends in law enforcement and the foster system have been gracious enough to grant us broad leniency in that, yet now that it has been over a month with no sign of your¡­ of your mother, they believe that a more¡­ permanent decision needs to be made. Not immediately. You have all the time that you need.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I have time?¡± Izzy was staring at my parents in confusion, clearly taken aback by all this. ¡°Time for what?¡± It was obvious that she was expecting to be told that she had time to pack her bags and get out of the house.


    Dad¡¯s voice was gentle. ¡°Izzy, we¡¯d like to become your permanent guardians. After what¨C¡± He stopped himself, clearly not wanting to say more in front of me. I was sure Simon already knew the whole story, even if Izzy wasn¡¯t supposed to know he did. ¡°After your personal situation with your mother, it¡¯s¡­ staggeringly doubtful that she would ever be granted custody of you again. But, we also understand that this is a lot to throw at you, and that this family itself can be¡­ more than what anyone wants to handle sometimes.¡±


    While Izzy continued to stare, her hand found mine under the table and squeezed so tight it was almost painful. But I kept the reaction off my face and squeezed back. She clearly tried to speak a couple times, but couldn¡¯t find the right words, so all that came out were a couple uncertain sounds.


    ¡°What Sterling is saying,¡± Mom put in, ¡°is that we would like to adopt you, Izzy. Legally and permanently. We would like you to be part of our family, part of this family, for the rest of all our lives. As he said, the decision is entirely up to you. Take your time, think about it, decide what is best for you. If you decide you don¡¯t want to be here, we will find a quieter place for you. No matter what you decide, you will never be abandoned. You will never be alone. We will make certain there is always someone who can take care of you, even if you decide that you would rather that person not be us.¡±


    Izzy was squeezing my hand even tighter, biting her lip for a moment before managing to find her voice. ¡°Tha¨Cthank you. Thank you for¡­ for everything. I¨C¡± The words caught in her throat briefly before she forced them out. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it. I¨CI have to think.¡±


    With a smile, Mom nodded. ¡°Of course. Take all the time you need. Just know that whatever you decide, we all care about you. And when your mother is found, we will ensure that she gets the help she needs to become a better person. While being prosecuted for her actions, of course.¡± Her voice was gentle and understanding. ¡°She is still your mother.¡±


    ********


    We all had dessert after that. But I could tell Izzy wasn¡¯t really tasting it. She was polite and everything, and even cleared off the plate. Yet her movements were mechanical, and it was obvious that her attention wasn¡¯t on the food. As soon as it was over, she excused herself and headed out. I waited another couple minutes to give her a little time before doing the same, muttering something about checking on her.


    She was in her room, and I quickly closed the door behind me after finding her there before checking the intercom on the wall to make certain it was off. Just to be on the safe side, I pried the thing open and flicked off the little switch inside. It was a trick I¡¯d learned awhile back to make sure Simon couldn¡¯t eavesdrop on me when I was on the phone. I¡¯d long-since modified my own intercom to always chime when it was activated, no matter what. Not that it was hard to do. There was literally a setting for it once you opened the thing up and knew what to look for. Which I did, thanks to an afternoon spent reading the manual years ago.


    Or did I? Was that how I knew how to do that, or had Paige actually been the one to teach me about it, back when she taught me how to sneak out of the house? No, that didn¡¯t make sense. I didn¡¯t remember how I knew how to sneak out of the house, only that I did, and I had never really questioned that. But not remembering something was very different from remembering something totally different. Tomas¡¯s father had erased my memories of Anthony, and of Paige by extension. He didn¡¯t put specific new memories in. Especially not memories of how I knew something Paige had taught me. He didn¡¯t know about Paige, so there was absolutely no reason he would know to give me specific memories about learning the intercom system.


    In any case, I knew how to make it chime every time and how to turn it off. I did the latter with Izzy¡¯s so we would be left alone, before looking that way. She was sitting on her bed, legs folded with a book in her lap as she stared down at it intently. She clearly knew I was there, but hadn¡¯t looked up or said anything since I entered.


    After a moment of hesitation, I walked over that way to sit on the bed next to her. My voice was quiet. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, she kept staring down at the book before closing it. When she spoke, her voice cracked slightly. ¡°We¡¯re still going out tonight, right? So¡­ so we can get into that base.¡±


    My head bobbed slightly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go if you don¡¯t want to, Izzy. We can make do.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Looking up to meet my gaze, Izzy insisted, ¡°I¡¯m going. I want to. I have to. Especially¨C¡± She flinched in mid-sentence, glancing away. ¡°Especially now. If¨CI want to know more. I want to know everything your parents do. I want to know what¨C I want to know all of it.¡±


    Boy did I understand that feeling. The need to know the truth, even if you were certain it was going to hurt. I had spent all this time planning how to break into that secret base, just so I could get some firm answers about what sort of people my parents were. Even if I knew the answer was going to hurt, even if I knew I would regret knowing details, I still had to do it. I had to be certain. And now my parents were asking Izzy to join the family officially. No wonder she had to know the truth too. Even if it hurt.


    ¡°They do care about you,¡± I assured her, for all the good it probably did. ¡°It¡¯s not just about wanting your power, Izzy. They could get that in other ways. I might not know everything about them, but I know the look my mother has when she¡¯s looking at someone she cares about. And she definitely cares about you. I know that probably doesn¡¯t help. Trust me, I know. But they don¡¯t just want to use you. They aren¡¯t just manipulating you to get something. They care about you. I care about you.¡±


    Izzy was silent, not responding for a few seconds. Then she exhaled. ¡°I care about you too. And them.¡± The latter admission came with a look of guilt as she glanced away. Which was something I understood just as much as her need to know the truth. Knowing that my parents weren¡¯t exactly bastions of morality and righteousness, knowing that they had done some terrible things and allowed people to die, and even killed plenty themselves, didn¡¯t make it easy to not care about them. It was like they were two separate groups, the people who were my parents and brother, and the people who did those terrible things. Yet they weren¡¯t different groups. They were the same. And trying to accept that was hard.


    For a couple minutes after that, the two of us sat in silence. Izzy took a few long, deep breaths to steady herself before speaking in a quiet voice, ¡°She wasn¡¯t always bad.¡±


    ¡°Your¡­ your mom?¡± I hesitantly asked, unsure if she actually wanted to talk about it or not.


    Izzy nodded, clutching the book in her lap tightly before holding it up so I could see. It was Charlotte¡¯s Web. ¡°My mom used to read it to me,¡± she murmured. ¡°Not this one. This is from your library. Ours was beaten up and had scribbles in it. My scribbles. It was the first book I remember her reading. And¡­ and usually when I was sick, she would read it to me again. She would sit in bed with me and read it. She made the voices funny and¡­ and¡­¡± Closing her eyes, she looked down, shoulders slumped. I could see the tears leaking out as she weakly insisted, ¡°My mom wasn¡¯t always bad. She wasn¡¯t always like¡­ like that. She got worse for awhile, but before¡­ but¨C¡± Clamping her mouth shut, she shook her head helplessly.


    Wincing, I shifted closer and put an arm around her. ¡°She¡¯s your mom.¡±


    ¡°But they won¡¯t let her be again,¡± Izzy whispered, leaning against me. ¡°After what she did, even if your family wasn¡¯t¡­ um, what they are, the authorities wouldn¡¯t ever let my mom be my mom again. And¨Cand I know she shouldn¡¯t be. After what she did, she shouldn¡¯t¨Cshe can¡¯t¨CI¨C¡± A shudder escaped the girl, before she turned her head to press her face into my shoulder. ¡°She can never be my mom again, not like it was. She broke it. She broke it, Cassidy, and she can¡¯t put it back. She can¡¯t fix it. It doesn¡¯t matter what I say to your parents, it doesn¡¯t matter what I do, it doesn¡¯t¨CI can¡¯t change it. I can¡¯t fix it. I can¡¯t make my mom be¡­ I just¨CI just wanted her to be¨CI just wanted¨C¡± Unable to continue, Izzy wrapped both arms around me, clinging tightly. ¡°I wanted to be good enough.¡± The weak, plaintive words snapped my heart in half.


    ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I good enough?¡±

 Dig In 22-08

    So clearly my parents had incredible timing. Just when we really needed to focus on what we were going to be trying to do that night, they dropped that bombshell on Izzy, asking if she would allow them to adopt her. Which sent the girl into an emotional tailspin for many different, equally valid reasons. Even after everything her mother had done, she still loved her and missed her. Some part of her still hoped to work things out, at least in some way. Which was something I could definitely understand, given my entire situation and how hard it was for me to see my parents as being capable of the stuff I knew they were capable of.


    In any case, I stayed with her while she talked a bit more about her mother. Not just about reading Charlotte¡¯s Web, but other stuff too. She wasn¡¯t in denial about the whole situation. She did tell me some bad things, and I could hear the anger and frustration in her voice. It was obvious that the girl wasn¡¯t under any delusions about what sort of person her mother really was. Not anymore. Still, there were plenty of moments that she looked back on fondly, even if tears kept filling her eyes whenever she thought about them.


    My parents came by around eight-thirty in the evening to ask if we were certain that we didn¡¯t want to go with them to the play. Yeah, they were going to see the opening performance of some new production that was supposed to be pretty huge. The guy behind it was being eccentric about the start-time and insisted that it begin precisely at eleven pm, rather than the standard eight. I had no idea if that was actually important for anything in the play, or if he just thought making a demand like that would make his play stand out. Whatever the answer, that was another reason for why we had chosen tonight to make our move. The play was a big enough deal that the media was covering people who showed up, so my parents would actually be there. Between the play itself and all the schmoozing my parents would need to do afterward, I was pretty sure they weren¡¯t planning on going anywhere near the base tonight. And they were taking Simon with them, which was another bonus. Obviously, the base wouldn¡¯t be completely unprotected or anything. At least I was pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t. It would be pretty surprising if the place was empty. But either way, my family wouldn¡¯t be there. Though it was almost certain that they would get a call very shortly after our arrival. I had a feeling my parents wouldn¡¯t be sitting there through the entire play once that happened. But with any luck, by the time they got to the base, we would be long-gone with everything we could grab. And with a bit more luck, at least one thing within all the stuff we managed to grab would actually be useful. Particularly the address of Pittman¡¯s secret labs that Raige had said was in that place.


    Needless to say, we politely declined the invitation to go with them, and I gave my parents a hug. Izzy looked uncertain, but stayed where she was on the bed while giving a hesitant wave. Mom and Dad seemed happy to see us sitting and talking together, and they tugged me aside to talk in private in the hallway for a moment.


    ¡°Cassidy,¡± Mom started, ¡°I know this whole thing was a lot to spring on you. On both of you. Your father and I¡­ we thought about talking to you first. But we wanted Izzy to feel like this was about her. It¡¯s her choice, she¨Cshe deserves to have that focus. And with as much as the two of you have been getting along, it was¡­ perhaps we¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re right, we have been getting along. I like Izzy. I mean¨C¡± Boy there was a lot I wanted to say, but keeping it simple and short was probably the best way to go. ¡°You¡¯re right, you didn¡¯t need to ask my permission to ask Izzy if she wants to¡­ to stay. She¡¯s not a pet dog or whatever. It¡¯s about what she wants. It should be about¨Cit should be about what makes her comfortable and¡­ and making her know she¡¯s wanted. You didn¡¯t need to ask my permission.¡±


    My parents glanced at one another, then each embraced me once more. Dad lifted me from the floor, crushing me against his chest. ¡°That¡¯s my girl,¡± he murmured proudly before setting me back down. ¡°Aww, now see, you went and messed up my suit.¡±


    ¡°Naturally,¡± Mom retorted as her eyes rolled. ¡°She¡¯s the one who messed it up.¡± Giving me a look, she added, ¡°He just wanted to be able to blame it on you rather than on the way he¡¯ll be slouching in the theater.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± I replied with a shrug, ¡°I guess I can take that hit.¡± Without another word, I reached out and started rubbing my hands over the jacket and shirt as though deliberately mussing it up.


    Dad swatted me away lightly, but laughed. ¡°See, told you she was my real hero.¡± he announced while winking at me. ¡°I can always count on her to come through in the end.¡±


    With a few more words about staying with Izzy for the evening and seeing how she felt about things, the two of them headed out. Sure, it was still early as far as the play went, which wouldn¡¯t start for a couple more hours. But if there was one thing I¡¯d learned about this sort of thing by growing up in my family, it was that people stood around talking for about as long as the play itself, if not even longer. There was a reason I¡¯d decided long before I knew anything about the whole Ministry thing that I didn¡¯t want to have anything to do with going to those events.


    After standing at the front door long enough to make sure they had left, I said good night to a couple of the staff who were standing around. It took everything I had not to run upstairs, considering I wanted the staff to have no idea that anything was going on. And thus have no reason to tell my parents that I seemed to be up to something. Once all this went down, and I wanted my parents to think that Izzy and I had been here asleep, or at least just hanging out, the whole time. So, I made a trip through the kitchen to grab a couple cold drinks before meandering upstairs. I didn¡¯t go as far as whistling innocently, of course. That might have been a little over-the-top and suspicious. But I did basically everything up to that.


    Izzy was still sitting on the bed, looking at the back of that book. When I came in, however, she stood up and waited until I closed the door before speaking. ¡°Did um, did they leave?¡± While saying that, she set the book down and stood a little taller, clearly trying to show that she was ready for this. Which I had my doubts about, but who was I to tell her not to go? It wasn¡¯t like I was any better when it came to being emotionally compromised.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I confirmed. And speaking of being emotionally compromised, ¡°So I guess we should get over to the shop before Mr. Pittman calls.¡±


    Izzy made a face at that. ¡°Do we have to call him mister? I don¡¯t think he¡¯s really earned that sort of courtesy or whatever. Can we call him Jerkface Pittman? Or Stankbutt Pittman.¡±


    Despite myself and this entire situation, I found myself snickering at that. ¡°Stankbutt Pittman, huh? Yeah, I think the twins might be good with that.¡± Pausing then, I frowned. ¡°Is twins the right word?¡±


    ¡°Close enough,¡± she agreed with a tiny smile, before swallowing hard. Her gaze met mine. ¡°We should go. I need umm, I need a distraction, please.¡± She sounded almost desperate then, clearly needing to take her mind off the whole family situation. Which, again, I could completely understand.


    So, I gave her a quick nod. ¡°Yeah, let me just grab my stuff.¡±


    After grabbing her backpack, the other girl was right behind me as we slipped out into the empty hall, looked around briefly, and headed for my own room. There, I took my own bag out of its hiding place under the heavy mirror and floor in the closet and slipped it onto my shoulders. Then the two of us waited at the balcony for an opening before heading out. With Izzy¡¯s help, we floated right over the wall, landing silently on the other side out of sight of the cameras before heading off through the darkness. We went a pretty fair distance through the wooded area before cutting across to the sidewalk, not wanting to let anyone passing by see us at this hour. At the very edge of the treeline, the two of us watched the empty street for a minute to make sure it was clear. In the distance, we could see the guard shack where the obviously sleepy guy sitting at his chair was doing his level best to stay awake with coffee. Which was a bad sign for how his night was going to go, considering it was just barely after nine o¡¯clock. Or maybe it was fine for him. I doubted my parents would allow any part of the gang war to take place this close to their house, so the guard at the gate for getting into the neighborhood (as much as it could be considered a neighborhood given how far apart the houses were) probably wouldn¡¯t have anything to do. His job was to make sure that cars going in and out were allowed to be there, and given the whole curfew situation, he probably wasn¡¯t getting many of those.


    Of course, there was also always the question of how involved he was with my family¡¯s business. Was he really half-asleep, or was that a front? Did he know exactly what was going on? It just made sense that my parents would have the gate guard to their neighborhood have at least some idea of the situation, didn¡¯t it? Or maybe they¡ª


    Shaking that off with some effort, I took a step back (literally) into the woods once more as Izzy and I changed into our costumes in the darkness. We shoved our normal clothes into the bags, then continued on our way, following the treeline to get as far away from that neighborhood as possible. In no way, shape, or form did I want anyone to see Paintball and Raindrop emerging from the same neighborhood we lived in. That was just entirely too dangerous.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Eventually, we managed to walk far enough away from the gate that we both figured it was safe. So Izzy made us both weightless while I used paint to yank us from rooftop to rooftop. We were still careful to avoid people following us, but that was easy enough at this point. It wasn¡¯t like there were many cars on the street or anything. There were still a few, particularly the occasional police cruiser here or there. But for the most part, things were quiet.


    Everyone else was waiting in Wren¡¯s shop, but I just took the time for a few quick greetings before heading upstairs. It was getting close to the time that Pittman was supposed to call, and I didn¡¯t want to screw that up. Not with what could be on the line. So, I asked the others to wait a few minutes and jogged up there. I was still dreading the conversation that was about to happen, given we had no idea what the situation with Irelyn/Flea was. Not to mention the fact that just thinking about Irelyn and Flea being the same person still made my head spin.


    Paige¡¯s body was sitting up on the couch when I got up there. She and Raige were obviously waiting for me. When I came into the room, they exhaled sharply before Raige noted, ¡°About time. Cutting it a little close, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    Before I could respond at all, the same mouth and voice spoke, but it was clearly Paige that time. ¡°Stop it. She¡¯s here, that¡¯s what matters.¡± Her eyes found me. ¡°He hasn¡¯t called back?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°No, he hasn¡¯t called. We still have time.¡± There were a few other things I wanted to say, but I couldn¡¯t find the right words. I could tell she was worried about Irelyn too. Actually, given Raige¡¯s reaction, it seemed like they both were. Which raised some interesting questions about what sort of feelings and memories the other girl had, but this probably wasn¡¯t the right time to get into all that. I wasn¡¯t sure when the right time would be, but it definitely wasn¡¯t when we were about to take a call from their psychotic father to find out what he wanted in exchange for not hurting their adopted sister.


    Of course, thinking about ¡®adopted sister¡¯ put my brain in another spin for that whole Izzy situation. But again, not the right time to think about it. I was going to have to shove that in a box and deal with it later too. Boy, this shelf in my brain was getting a bit full. At this rate, I was going to have to take some of the things out of their boxes and deal with them.


    Or build another brain shelf. Yeah, that sounded more likely.


    Shaking that off for the moment, I focused. ¡°Okay, real quick. I don¡¯t think we should say anything about Raige.¡± Before they could respond, I pushed on. ¡°I mean, he didn¡¯t say anything, so I don¡¯t think he knows. As far as he¡¯s aware, she¡¯s been erased. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯ll ever be a relevant advantage, but it feels stupid to give him information that he doesn¡¯t already have, you know? Maybe someday him not knowing that Raige exists will be important.¡±


    There was a brief pause while they clearly considered that. Then Raige agreed. ¡°Sure, I can go with that. Fucker tried to kill me, might as well let him think he succeeded. Then it¡¯ll be a nice surprise when I punch the back of his head in.¡± Another pause, then, ¡°I mean, nice for me anyway.¡±


    ¡°Nice for us,¡± Paige confirmed.


    Before I could say anything else, the special phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped a bit even though I had been expecting that. Plucking it out, I looked at the unknown name and number briefly before exhaling. Then I put the phone to my ear and answered, making sure to use the same voice changer setting I¡¯d had a couple nights earlier. ¡°Hey again.¡± Boy was it hard to make my voice sound even somewhat nonchalant. Somehow, I managed it. Maybe it was all the practice I¡¯d had over these past couple months.


    There was a brief pause before the same man spoke. ¡°Give the phone to Paige, now.¡± Again, this guy was obviously accustomed to people hopping to follow his every command the moment he said it. Which seemed a little odd coming from someone who was living on a prison island full of other psychotic supervillains, but I had no idea how things worked over there. Plus he was obviously used to working with his automatons and other things he could program and control.


    But I wasn¡¯t one of those. Giving a quick glance toward Paige, I shook my head. ¡°No, sir, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll do that.¡±


    Again, there was a pause as though he couldn¡¯t comprehend the words and was playing them back in his head in total disbelief. When he spoke again, his voice was even more dangerous. ¡°This is not the time to be playing games, whoever you are. Give the phone to my daughter.¡±


    Steeling myself a little, helped by how annoyed I was by his demanding tone (not to mention the fact that he¡¯d tried to have me killed by a girl who should have been my friend), I once more denied him. ¡°You can repeat yourself as much as you want, but I¡¯m still not giving her the phone. She¡¯s right here. If you want to talk to her, I¡¯ll tell her anything you want to pass along. The thing is, I¡¯m pretty sure you probably still have some secret commands that even she doesn¡¯t know about. So in the interest of fairness, I¡¯ll just give her the gist of whatever you want to say to her, and she can respond. If you want, you can ask something that only she¡¯d know the answer to, just to make sure she¡¯s really here.¡±


    From the sound of the heavy sigh that escaped the man, I was pretty sure it was taking all he had not to curse me out and spit out a bunch of threats. A glance toward Paige showed the girl watching me with a mixture of curiosity and worry, but she didn¡¯t say anything. And boy was it a weird feeling to look at the girl who had been such a royal bitch to me for so long and worry about how she was feeling.


    Finally, Pittman spoke. ¡°Tell her to say¡­ what color her carpet was in our first primary lab, in her bedroom.¡±


    Blinking at that, I finally shrugged and muted the phone before looking at Paige to pass along the question.


    ¡°It¡¯s a trick question,¡± she immediately replied. ¡°There was no carpet in my first bedroom.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Raige agreed darkly, ¡°motherfucker put us in a room with linoleum on the floor.¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°That was white.¡±


    Making a face, I unmuted the phone. ¡°White,¡± I replied, letting that hang for just a second before adding, ¡°But it wasn¡¯t carpet. It was linoleum. Which, for the record, makes you an even shittier father than I expected. And that bar was already pretty low, so congratulations on managing to limbo under it.¡±


    ¡°You think you can judge¨C¡± Pittman started to snarl before catching himself. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you think. I care about progressing the human race. Now tell Paige that she needs to get back in line and do her job, or the superheroes, including her sister, who ended up on this island thanks to her will pay the price.¡±


    My mouth opened to echo the word ¡®superheroes,¡¯ only to catch myself. Muting the phone, I stared at it for a second before murmuring, ¡°He says Flea¡¯s there on the island.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± one of them blurted before slamming Paige¡¯s hand into the side of the couch. ¡°Stupid piece of shit! I knew that whole thing was a bad idea, I knew it was¨CI knew¨Cfuck!¡±


    ¡°Just¨Cwait.¡± Quickly, I interrupted before they could go on. ¡°He said superheroes, as in plural. Who would Irelyn take with her? Who else is¨C?¡± Even as I said that, my fingers were snapping. ¡°Trivial. It¡¯s Trivial. She¡¯s the other one who hasn¡¯t been around lately. The news was talking about that earlier, about how she¡¯s been on some sort of vacation or something. I was mostly thinking about how her timing sucked with Flea being gone too.¡±


    ¡°He¡­ he has Irelyn and Trivial,¡± Paige murmured. ¡°We have t¨C¡±


    ¡°Hang on.¡± Holding my hand up to stop her, I thought quickly for a couple frantic seconds. Then I hit the button again and spoke to Pittman. ¡°Put them on the line. If you want something from Paige, we need to know Flea and Slider are both safe.¡±


    Another sigh escaped the man. ¡°They are fine, for now. Unless Paige fails to do as she has been told. Then they both die. Put her on the phone.¡±


    My finger hit the mute button again, and I looked back to Paige and Raige. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have them. He has her phone, but not them. Trivial¡¯s only been here in the city for less than a year. And she was in Nebraska before. He doesn¡¯t know who she is. He didn¡¯t know the name was wrong. And he refused to put them on the phone.¡±


    ¡°He could not know who she is and still have her,¡± Paige pointed out slowly.


    My head shook. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. If he had her, he seems like the type to dig into who she actually is so he¡¯d know how to keep her contained, you know? If he doesn¡¯t even know her name, I don¡¯t think he knows anything else about her. Just that she exists.¡± Then I thought of something else. ¡°Besides, think about it. If he had two different heroes¡¯ lives to bargain with, do you really think he¡¯d waste time trying to tell you to do the same job you were doing before? Seems to me like he¡¯d be bargaining with someone who has more actual power than you. Hell, he could call out to a news station and threaten to kill two Star-Touched. But either way, he¡¯d know what her name was, because he¡¯d be talking about her with the outside world. He would¡¯ve gotten as far as knowing her name.¡±


    ¡°If he doesn¡¯t have them, but has Irelyn¡¯s phone¡­ what does that mean?¡± Paige murmured.


    ¡°It means he¡¯s fucking with us,¡± Raige answered. ¡°Still thinks he can make us¨Cerr, you dance under his strings. They must be on the island, but not¡­ he doesn¡¯t have them. Maybe they dropped the phone or¨Cwhatever the fuck, all that matters is he doesn¡¯t have them.¡±


    We talked for another moment before I unmuted the phone. ¡°Pittman?¡± I dropped the mister, as Izzy had suggested before. ¡°Paige has something to say to you.¡± With that, I hit the button to make it so he could hear her voice but she couldn¡¯t hear his.


    ¡°Hey, Father,¡± she announced flatly. ¡°I just wanted you to know that you should probably get to work on giving yourself a robot dick. Because when Flea finds you, she¡¯s going to cut the real one off. We¡¯ll call back and leave a message when we have something to say to you.¡±


    With that, I disconnected the call. Which had to piss him off, but that was what we were going for. We had other things to worry about right now. He didn¡¯t have Irelyn or Trivial, that was what mattered.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I announced, ¡°I¡¯m going to head out for that tunnel thing so we can get Raige a new body and go from there.¡±


    ¡°Close,¡± Paige replied, ¡°but I¡¯m going too. Or we are.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I blinked at that. ¡°What do you¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sharing the body for this,¡± she informed me, already pushing herself to a standing position. ¡°If Irelyn is stuck on that island somehow, who¡­ who the fuck knows how, but either way, if she and Trivial are stuck there, we need to get on with this.¡±


    ¡°So yeah, we¡¯ll share it for now, for this,¡± Raige put in. ¡°We¡¯ll take turns. So I can get my own body, then we can figure out how we¡¯re going to get those two the fuck out of that prison.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ in that case, what are we waiting for?¡± I slowly replied. ¡°Speaking of bodies, let¡¯s go tell the others we¡¯ve got another one coming along for this mission.


    ¡°God knows we can use all the help we can get.¡±

 Dig In 22-09

    So there we were, all gathered in the main area of Wren¡¯s pawn shop. There was Alloy, Pack, That-A-Way, Raindrop, Roald, Murphy, Paige/Raige as a last-minute addition, and me. Wren and Fred were here too, of course. But they would be staying at the shop, ready to go with our ¡®everything¡¯s fucked¡¯ emergency escape plan if it came down to it. Unfortunately, that basically amounted to Wren using a half-finished cobbled-together teleporter that she wasn¡¯t confident in. We would all be carrying the markers that were supposed to allow it to grab and move us to a safe location. But again, it was unfinished. Wren had given me a few details about what could have gone wrong the one time she teleported me, back when I had been chased by Cu¨¦lebre, and I was seriously still debating on whether it would have been safer to stick with fighting him. Suffice to say, we really didn¡¯t want to have to try this one until she decided it was one hundred percent safe. But we didn¡¯t have time to wait for that, especially not now.


    ¡°So ahh, maybe I should have brought this up when you came up with your genius plan,¡± Raige (obviously) announced after introductions had officially been made back and forth to everyone, ¡°but how exactly are you planning on making it so they don¡¯t realize a bunch of kids and teens just screwed them over?¡± Her hand gestured toward Raindrop and then to me, before she nodded to Murphy and Roald. ¡°Like those two over there, or those two there. I mean, none of us actually look like full-grown adults, but seriously. Having a few people who look that young feels like a bit more information than you want them to have. Especially when their computers can compare the heights of probably all their top suspects, and something tells me Paintball might fall somewhere on that list given the history you have with them. Just saying.¡±


    Before the rest of us could respond to that, Murphy asked, ¡°Okay, sorry, I just need to ask. Is the person talking now the super-scary but ultra-hot cyborg girl, or the ultra-scary and ultra-hot cyborg girl?¡±


    There was a brief pause as their head tilted before Raige spoke again. ¡°Paige would like you to know she¡¯s offended that you don¡¯t find her ultra-scary too, and that if you knew her better, you¡¯d understand that¡¯s a terrible way of differentiating us. You could say nice one or mean one, but that¡¯s not exactly accurate either. Let¡¯s stick with names, hmm? That seems easy enough.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Totally simple to just stick with names. So, to answer your question, Raige¡­ ahh, Wren, you got the things?¡±


    With a broad grin, Wren held up a pair of boots. ¡°Yup! Err, I¡¯ve got these ones.¡± She tossed them to me before gesturing. ¡°Uncle Fred?¡±


    He, in turn, reached down to pick up a cardboard box and carried it over to the middle of the room. ¡°They¡¯ve got lifts in ¡®em,¡± the man explained to Raige (and Paige). ¡°Just enough to add about four inches of height for all these guys. They¡¯ve been practicing with them for awhile.¡±


    ¡°We had the same thought you did,¡± I murmured while holding the boots against my chest. ¡°It¡¯s not the perfect solution, but it should at least confuse things a bit. If they don¡¯t see anyone my¨Cerr, you know, Paintball¡¯s height in this group, and I don¡¯t use my powers in a way they can see, it¡¯ll really muddy the waters about who attacked their base. Which means we really need to get in and out without too many problems so I don¡¯t have to use my powers in an obvious way.¡±


    That said, I hesitated before adding, ¡°And speaking of not using my powers in an obvious way¡­¡± Reaching into the backpack on the table in front of me, I started pulling out tee-shirts and tossing them to the others. ¡°You all need to wear these under the rest of your clothes when we go in there.¡± Every shirt had an assortment of colored shapes across them. Several of each type. There were orange suns, green leaves, and purple mushrooms. Three different colors, three different shapes, all arranged in three rows across the front and three across the back. I had taken the time to prep the shirts ahead of time while sitting at home.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing,¡± I noted, mostly for Paige and Raige¡¯s benefit. ¡°As long as I know one of my bits of paint is there, and exactly what it looks like, I can activate it through other clothes when I¡¯m looking at it. Not through a wall or anything, but still. It¡¯s something. These are all completely the same. So I can look and remember exactly what the orange sun looks like to make all of you temporarily really tough, or strong, or fast. Or all three at once. Probably that last one. I can do it six times for each of you, and they last about ten seconds each time. That¡¯s sixty full seconds for all of us to have full boosts without me obviously using my powers.¡±


    ¡°And you won¡¯t have to use them constantly!¡± Wren quickly put in. ¡°There¡¯s the suits too. Err, I mean, okay, I couldn¡¯t give all of you suits as cool as the prototypes Hobbes and Calvin have. But we do have the normal ones.¡±


    ¡°Normal, she says.¡± Fred huffed a bit. ¡°They ain¡¯t just boring old mundane suits. Kid traded the design for those wings of hers to some Tech-Touched in Texas for a shipment of these. Just got ¡®em in yesterday. They¡¯re supposed to adjust to your body size and all that. They¡¯ll cushion any impact you take. Won¡¯t make a bullet feel like a love tap, but it¡¯ll make it survivable. Probably. From what the guy said, it¡¯ll still feel like getting kicked pretty hard, so you don¡¯t want to stand there and dare them to shoot you.¡±


    ¡°Cushion impact, but no teleporting,¡± Wren put in. ¡°And the cushion bit isn¡¯t as protective as the total momentum-stop on the suits Calvin and Hobbes have. But, uhh, it actually works constantly instead of draining a bunch of power every time, so¡­¡± Her face twisted a little bit guiltily and self-consciously


    ¡°Sounds amazing, kid,¡± Pack put in. ¡°Can¡¯t believe you gave your wing designs to some other tech, but I guess you got your money¡¯s worth. Err, you know what I mean. Your blueprint¡¯s worth? Whatever.¡±


    Way spoke up then. ¡°So we have the lift shoes to throw off our height, the colored shirts from Paintball so he can give us temporary boosts, and these suits you were talking about for some extra protection. Plus these.¡± From her own bag, she produced several batons with tasers on the end, along with a couple gun versions. ¡°Police-issue. I¡­ borrowed them from one of the deployment trucks when they sent it in for repairs after Suckshot yanked it off the road.¡± Before Pack could say whatever she had obviously been about to, the girl pointedly added, ¡°And I want them all back when we¡¯re done. So try not to drop them or anything. Just¡­ just be careful, okay? Everyone be careful in general.¡±


    ¡°Good advice,¡± Raige noted casually. ¡°And I guess it¡¯s not bad as far as hiding your identities goes. Not perfect, but eh. You don¡¯t exactly have the time, resources, or ruthlessness you need to make it perfect. And I don¡¯t want to sit around waiting for my new body until you get every single duck in a row. So we¡¯ll go with the ducks you¡¯ve got. But hey, at least you¡¯ll have one of us with you. And believe me when I say that¡¯s quite the upgrade.¡±


    I quickly spoke up. ¡°She¡¯s not wrong. And we can use all the help we can get. Which¨Care we forgetting anything?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly forgetting,¡± Pack put in, ¡°But circling back to that whole hiding who we are thing, I did have another thought. Especially when it comes to you.¡± She focused my way.


    ¡°Me?¡± Blinking a couple times at that, I glanced to the others, who all shrugged, before looking back to her. ¡°What about me?¡±


    ¡°I was thinking about it, and I came up with the perfect plan,¡± Pack informed me with no small amount of pride. She paused briefly to let the anticipation grow, before dramatically announcing, ¡°You should pretend to be a girl.¡±


    Okay, well, apparently it was not quite yet possible for me to literally die of shock. Although I did audibly choke and stumble a little, my eyes widening dramatically behind the helmet as I stared that way in total bewilderment. ¡°I¨Cwha¨Cnot¨Cwhat¨Ctha¨Cyo-I-wha¨C¡±


    Quickly, That-A-Way moved over to slap my back a couple times, laughing pretty convincingly. ¡°Whoa, hey there. No one¡¯s questioning your manliness, buddy. I know how you guys are sensitive about that sort of thing.¡± She hit my back again, harder that time, while clearing her throat a bit pointedly. ¡°You okay?¡±


    Thank God I had Amber in my corner to help cover. It gave me a second to collect myself. And with her help, my reaction made it look like a teen boy who didn¡¯t like the idea of pretending to be a girl, instead of the truth, which¡­ was a hell of a lot more complicated.


    The point was, I absorbed the nuclear bomb that Pack had set off in the room and came out  relatively unscathed. Coughing once, I managed to look that way and found my voice. ¡°Sorry, did you say I should pretend to be a girl? I don¡¯t even¨Cwhat would that¨Chuh?¡± Right, totally smooth recovery. But again, at least she had suggested something that my fake teen boy-self reacting that way to made complete sense.


    With a snort of amusement that seemed to prove she really did buy that reasoning, Pack replied, ¡°Look, I know it¡¯s not going to be your most favorite thing ever, but being a girl isn¡¯t the worst thing in the world, dude. I¡¯m just saying, if everyone who sees you in there, or on video, thinks you¡¯re a girl, there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll connect that you to Paintball, you know? Which means they¡¯ll be even less likely to connect it to the rest of us.¡±


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Oh boy was there a lot that came to mind when she said that. Even when I filtered out all the curse words and stammering in my head, there was still a fair amount. A glance toward Raindrop revealed the girl standing completely still, not giving anything away. Nor were Raige or Amber, thankfully. All of them kept my secret perfectly. Probably better than I was. So, I pushed down my initial thoughts and simply asked, ¡°Um, how exactly do you think we should do that? Err, if we did. I don¡¯t think we can just put a skirt on the outside of one of these suits, so unless you¡¯ve got a better¨C¡±


    ¡°I have a better thing than that,¡± Pack interrupted. With that, she reached into her own bag and pulled something out before tossing it to me.


    It was a bra. I realized that even as I caught the thing in both hands. But more than that, the cups of the bra were stuffed, or padded, or whatever. It was clearly made so a guy could wear the bra and look like he had breasts.


    ¡°This¡­ this is¡­¡± I stared down at the thing in my hand, trying to find words. My stomach was rolling. There was absolutely no way that Pack could have known what a sensitive issue, in more than one way, this whole thing was. She didn¡¯t know that I really was a girl pretending to be a boy, and she definitely didn¡¯t know how sensitive I was about the fact that I didn¡¯t exactly fill out a dress the way most guys wanted. Again, I wasn¡¯t flat or anything. But well, this stuffed bra definitely had me beat rather handily. Which was a bit depressing all on its own. Again though, Pack didn¡¯t know anything about that. She was just trying to help by offering what was, to her, a pretty good idea about concealing my identity. She wasn¡¯t mocking me, she wasn¡¯t messing with me, she wasn¡¯t intentionally pushing my buttons. She was helping.


    Knowing all that helped me shove my reactions down. This was about hiding who I was, and whether I was really a girl or a boy wasn¡¯t the point. There was absolutely no one way that my parents or anyone who worked for them would look at someone wearing this fucking thing and think it was either Paintball or their daughter. Pack was right, this was the best way to go.


    Not that knowing that made it that much easier to resist throwing the thing into the nearest trash can as fast as I could, but it still helped. So I bit my lip and looked up again. Everyone was watching me. I could tell they were all curious about what I was going to say. Izzy, Raige, and Amber for one reason, and Murphy, Roald, Pack, Wren, and Fred for basically the complete opposite reason. They were all waiting to see what I would do.


    I wanted to say no. I wanted to dismiss the idea and say that it wasn¡¯t necessary. After all, I would already be wearing completely different clothes, covering my face, not using my powers in any way that the Ministry would see, and even changing my height. I wanted to tell Pack that wearing this, that ¡®pretending¡¯ to be a girl was overkill. But the fact was, there was no such thing as overkill when it came to hiding our identities. My parents and the people who worked for them could not have any clues about who we really were. We had to throw them off as much as we could, because if they started coming after us directly, we would have no chance of winning. Not right now, at least. We needed more information, more details about their capabilities, their weaknesses, their¨Ceverything, all of it. Which was the whole reason we were breaking into the base so we could take enough stuff to hopefully know more. But to do that, to get away with it, I needed to be willing to do something that made my entire insides want to shrivel up and blow away in the wind. I couldn¡¯t be selfish right now. I had to go with the hard choice.


    So, with a heavy sigh, I found myself nodding reluctantly. My voice sounded just a little hollow with the first word before I cleared my throat. ¡°Okay¨CI guess you¡¯ve got a point. As long as it means they don¡¯t have any reason to suspect me, this has gotta be worth it.¡±


    While Amber gave me an understanding look, Pack pulled another stuffed bra from her bag. ¡°I ahh, got one for the other pipsqueak over there too.¡± Her head nodded toward Raindrop. ¡°Figured it¡¯s not quite as big of a deal as it is for Paintball since you, you know, actually are a girl. But still, you¡¯re not exactly¨Cmaking you look different is better.¡±


    Izzy was clearly reluctant (even if not nearly as reluctant as me), but she finally agreed to the plan too. The bra that Pack gave her was just enough to make the fact that she was female more obvious even on-camera through the suits that we would be wearing.


    Actually, this whole thing was almost a good thing for another reason. I had been planning on wearing a jacket or a vest over my infiltration suit to hide the fact that¨Cwell, again, I wasn¡¯t completely flat. Usually the coveralls I wore as the base of my costume were loose enough in that particular area to hide that. But I was going to have to cover it with a jacket when wearing these suits. Except now I didn¡¯t have to. So¡­ yay?


    In any case, the actual new suits turned out to basically look like a cross between a thief and a ninja. There was a basic layer of a black bodysuit that looked like a top and bottom set of pajamas, along with a vest that cinched across the chest for added protection (which probably would have covered my not-a-boyness well enough already), and what looked like a ski mask with black goggle-like lenses over the eyes. There was extra hidden padding in there to protect our heads. Finally, there were deceptively thin-looking gloves that were still quite protective and would hide our fingerprints. Between all that and the raised boots, we would look decidedly different than we usually did. Which, of course, was the point.


    The others changed in the shop, giving me a chance to see what the suits looked like, but Alloy and I stayed in our usual costumes. Given how sensitive this whole thing was, everyone getting caught by the authorities out in the streets dressed up like thieves or ninjas or whatever would kind of screw our entire night (and probably a lot more than that). Fortunately, we had a plan for that, even with the curfew in place. The plan was named Amber. Or That-A-Way. Wren¡¯s shop was just south enough from the mall that she could teleport the group a bit at a time, from one roof to the next. The group, that was, aside from Wren and Fred, who would be staying at the shop, and Alloy and me, who had our own part to play. That was why the two of us were in full-costume instead of the suits, scouting ahead to make sure the way was clear. We texted back and forth to That-A-Way to let her know when it was safe to bring everyone over to the next spot, rather than shouting or using any lights or anything. Any cops or Star-Touched who saw us didn¡¯t say or do anything about it, other than to wave and thank us for the help now and then. We would make sure each spot was safe, and then Amber teleported herself and the rest of the group there, disguised in those dark suits.


    There was a quick, relatively minor situation when Alloy and I actually saw a crime we had to intervene in. Some guy in a simple stocking mask was trying to loot an old pet grooming place. Yeah, I had no idea what he was hoping to find, but the dude was rearing back to throw a cinder block through the window and had an empty backpack with him. I managed to red-paint the block just as he went to hurl it that way, yanking it to a red spot on the street behind him. Then Alloy trapped him in a marble cylinder, until I got down there. He took a swing at me as soon as Alloy released the circular cage, but I used a bit of purple paint across my back to yank him by the arm over to a light post and used a ziptie to secure him to it while he shouted and threatened me. Then I used the Doephone app to contact the authorities to let them know where to pick him up and what his crime was.


    Shortly after that, Alloy and I returned to our planned spot and I let Amber know it was safe. Almost immediately, she appeared nearby with Pack, Izzy, Murphy, Roald, and Paige (she was the one in control right now) all touching her arms or hands.


    As soon as they appeared, everyone looked to me for an explanation about the delay. So I gave a quick rundown, before adding that we needed to get out of there before cops showed up to grab that guy. Not that they could see us from down there, but still. There were helicopters here and there in the sky with their spotlights passing over buildings. We needed to move on.


    So, we did. Bit by bit we made our way to the motel site, and took a minute to make sure it looked safe. No one was around, Wren¡¯s sensors hadn¡¯t picked up anything out of the ordinary around our tunnel, and the nearest patrols didn¡¯t seem to be anywhere near this spot. The coast was clear.


    The others headed for the main room while Alloy and I split up so we could go change. But first, I looked to Paige and hesitated. ¡°Your¡­ it feels different to see you standing up and moving around.¡±


    Paige (or Raige) was the only person here who didn¡¯t have one of the special suits to wear. Wren, of course, hadn¡¯t expected them to be part of this, so she didn¡¯t get a suit for them. Instead, they were wearing a simple pair of jeans, a dark long-sleeved shirt, and a normal ski-mask. The mask itself was pulled up so it was barely covering their hair, acting more like a normal hat at the moment. Both of them had insisted that it was fine that they didn¡¯t have a protective suit. After all, they already had their own advantages. Plus I had at least been able to paint another tee-shirt for her, like the ones the others had.


    ¡°Feels different from this side too,¡± Paige informed me quietly before pausing. ¡°Raige wants me to say that what she¡¯d like to feel is how different it is to move around in her own damn body, so would we pick up the pace, please. I added the please.¡±


    Smirking just a little despite myself, I shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Raige. We¡¯re on it.¡± Still, I paused once more before adding, ¡°Do you really think Flea and Trivial are trapped on that island?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the only answer that makes sense,¡± she pointed out. ¡°Like you said, if Benjamin or his people had them, he¡¯d know more about who Trivial is. But if they were free, they would¡¯ve come back by now. Somehow¡­ somehow they must¡¯ve ended up there. Probably another one of his escape plans. I just¨Ceven if he doesn¡¯t have them, that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re safe. They¡¯re running around on an island full of the worst supervillains in the world. And that¡¯s the optimistic scenario.¡±


    Grimacing, I took a second to find my voice. She was right, that was¡­ it was bad. We had to get Raige a body so they could both act independently and then figure out what to do about it. Even if that meant sending messages to somebody about two Star-Touched being trapped on that island. Which raised the question of why people didn¡¯t know about that already, or what¨Cit raised a lot of questions. And I didn¡¯t like any of the hypothetical answers.


    Forcing those thoughts down, I managed a weak, ¡°We¡¯ll figure out what¡¯s going on. We¡¯ll¡­ we¡¯ll find them. Right after we do this part.¡±


    Paige held up her fist, and I only hesitated for a second before bumping mine against it. I wanted to say something else, but nothing came out. Instead, I heaved a sigh, looked down at the stuffed bra in my hand, and headed for the room where I was going to change.


    If we didn¡¯t get something useful out of this when all was said and done, no amount of being disguised would matter. Because I was probably going to scream so loud my parents would be able to identify my voice from the other side of town.

 Dig In 22-10

    Right, so dressing up like this felt as weird as I thought it would. With the raised boots, I was standing several inches taller than I was accustomed to. That was enough to throw me off all on its own, even though I had been practicing with them for awhile in preparation for this. Despite the hours spent walking and running in these, it still felt weird to see things from this high up.


    And, quite frankly, the fact that I could refer to five feet, four inches as ¡®this high up¡¯ was more than a little depressing. To say nothing about how much of a difference that padded bra made against my chest. I actually looked like a girl my real age now, if not older. Which was just¡­ Yeah, I was going to try not to think about it too much. Which, I suppose, made the fact that I had plenty of other things to focus on right then a good thing. There would be time later to dwell on the fact that I had never filled out a set of clothes as well as I was right then, and almost certainly never would. Or I could just shove it onto my brain shelf and pretend I didn¡¯t notice it.


    Pack whistled as we all met up inside the main room above the tunnel. Her eyes (hidden as they were behind the lenses in her own mask) were on me as she clapped a couple times. ¡°I hate to tell you this, babe, but you might¡¯ve missed your calling with that Y chromosome. You¡¯re looking great that way.¡±


    What was I supposed to say to that? How was I supposed to react? She didn¡¯t know what she was really saying. I knew that. Deep down, I knew that Pack had absolutely no idea how hard this was, or what her words really meant. She had no idea how long I had spent wishing that I really did look like this, and especially didn¡¯t know how much the things she was saying stung. She was just joking around. She thought she was teasing an actual boy about how well he could pull off looking like a girl. I just¨CI had to shove all that out of my mind and try to react from that point of view.


    ¡°I guess I should just be glad you¡¯re not the jealous type,¡± I found myself retorting, with no idea of how I pulled the words out or made them sound so casual.


    Pack, in turn, snorted. ¡°Please, in the alternate universe where you¡¯re actually a girl, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve already taken you under my wing to teach you everything I know.¡±


    Amber made a noise in the back of her throat from the corner of the room where she had been talking quietly to Izzy, both in their own suits. ¡°Everything you know about lizards or about being a thief? Because I¡¯m not sure how either of those would help Paintball, no matter what sex he is.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯d be surprised how many relevant things I could teach,¡± Pack shot back. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll show you someday, babe.¡±


    From the opposite corner where he and Murphy had been, Roald spoke up a bit hesitantly. ¡°Um, personally I¡¯m just glad I¡¯m not the only guy in the group.¡± The poor, clueless boy gave me a nod and a somewhat weak thumbs up. ¡°Right?¡±


    Yet again, I somehow dug deep and found a casual response, returning the thumbs up. ¡°Uh, sure, yeah. How¡¯re those suits fitting?¡±


    Shifting a bit, Murphy rubbed at her leg, then at one of the lenses across her eyes. ¡°Not as cool as ours, and I miss the teleport thing. But I guess they¡¯re good enough for this.¡±


    Murphy and Roald weren¡¯t wearing the prototype suits that Wren had put together for them. There had been some discussion both ways for that, but in the end, they had decided they wanted to eventually be able to use them for more than just this. And we knew that if they used the suits through this little mission and then appeared publicly as part of Avant-Guard, the Ministry would almost certainly be able to put two and two together. So, they were wearing a couple more of the other suits that Wren had traded for.


    Alloy offered them a shrug. ¡°Hey, I feel weird not wearing a suit made from my own marbles. And I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re jealous.¡± She glanced down to the pocket where she was keeping them out of sight.


    When I glanced to the doorway where she was standing, Paige spoke up. ¡°Does anyone have any questions about what we¡¯re about to do?¡±


    Pack, in turn, replied, ¡°I mean, to tell you the truth, I¡¯ve got a ton of questions when it comes to you and how your whole¡­ everything works. Especially with two of you in that head. But for this? Nah, I think we¡¯ve all got the gist. We tunnel through the last bit of dirt we¡¯ve got left, break into the base, grab everything that isn¡¯t nailed down, and get out of there before we end up in the middle of a battle we can¡¯t get out of. In and out, quick as we can. You can¡¯t get a lot simpler than that. I mean, obviously it would be better if we had the actual blueprints for this place so we could plan out who runs where, or even build a full scale mock-up and practice. But I guess we¡¯ve gotta be satisfied with what we¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°You know an awful lot about how to get away with robbing a place,¡± Alloy noted. ¡°How would y-ohh yeah.¡±


    Coughing, I nodded. ¡°She¡¯s not wrong. It would be cool if we had the blueprints. But yeah, we don¡¯t have time for that. Unless someone here spontaneously manifested the power to make that a thing?¡± I injected my words with a note of optimism and hopefulness while looking around. ¡°No? Damn.¡±


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve just gotta say,¡± Murphy put in, ¡°It is kinda weird to see you look like that, while sounding like¡­ well, you.¡± Her hands gestured to encompass my whole form. ¡°You sound like Paintball, but you look, uhh¡­ yeah.¡± Coughing a bit self-consciously, the girl shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s weird.¡±


    ¡°You think it¡¯s weird from your end?¡± I retorted. ¡°Try being on this end of it.¡± Boy did she not even know the half of what that meant.  In the background, I could see Izzy and Amber stifling their reactions.


    ¡°She¡¯s right though,¡± Paige put in while stepping up beside me. ¡°At least about one thing. Your voice does seem odd coming out of this look. So maybe we should turn on the things.¡±


    Right, the things. I had ¡®come up with¡¯ the idea of all of us using voice changers, just to make sure that our voices wouldn¡¯t be recorded in there. We all had essentially the same set-up that I always had under the masks. Now, we turned them on, and I waited a moment before speaking in a voice that was robotic and vaguely feminine. ¡°We good?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± That-A-Way agreed in a quite similar voice before looking at me. ¡°But even with these, maybe you shouldn¡¯t do much talking in there. You know, just to be on the safe side. You know, because Paintball talks a lot and if you don¡¯t, it¡¯ll make them even less likely to connect you to Paintball.¡±


    Shifting a little, I gave a slow nod. ¡°Right, yeah, I guess I do have a tendency to talk a little bit.¡± As everyone else exchanged pointed looks, I felt a blush cross my face under the mask. ¡°Okay, okay, a lot. I talk a lot. I get it. I¡¯ll be so quiet in there they¡¯ll never know it¡¯s me. Hell, maybe I¡¯ll be so quiet you forget I¡¯m supposed to be with you and leave me in there. And then they¡¯ll find me and this whole thing will blow up in our faces. See what being quiet leads to?¡±


    None of them seemed convinced by my hypothetical for some reason, and we exchanged just a few more words. We were all nervous about what we were about to do, that much was clear. But eventually, we can¡¯t put it off any longer. One by one, we grabbed the buckets that were waiting for us, then descended the ladder and began to enter the tunnel. Pack made a comment about how she had promised to bring her lizards back a souvenir of some kind to make up for not bringing them in with her. Which, I was pretty sure, was her way of playing off how nervous and out of her element she felt about that fact.


    Although, to be entirely fair, I was pretty sure she had at least one of her lizards in the pocket of the jacket she had put on over the suit. At least, if I was her, I would have.


    Eventually, we all crowded into the slightly widened spot where the tunnel ended. It looked mostly the same as it had the other night when I was here, save for a single addition that Fred and Pack had put in while the rest of us were busy. Namely, a thick canvas tarp across the ceiling. It was secured by metal spikes in the four corners of the ¡®room.¡¯ Between the strength of the tarp and the spikes, Wren had assured us it would hold at least most of the dirt we would be pulling out of the rest of this tunnel. There was an anchor rope next to the thing keeping it all in a place. Once it was full of dirt, if we cut that rope, the whole thing would almost instantly collapse and fill this open space. It wasn¡¯t quite like collapsing the entire tunnel behind us, but it was something. Once we got out of there, we would drop the tarp and they would have to dig through at least this much room to find the rest of the tunnel. It gave us a little bit more of an edge. And we needed all of the edges we could get.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Twenty feet ahead and fifteen feet down, the metal wall marking the edge of the Ministry base waited. We hadn¡¯t wanted to get any closer until we were ready to go in, just in case. But now was the time. No more waiting. We were going to dig through the last few yards, angling downward, and get inside. Which was a thought that made my heart pound so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest. But hey, at least I had some extra padding there now to keep it in place.


    Yeah, okay, it was vaguely possible that I was feeling weird about this whole situation. Still, I pushed that away and began to use pink paint on the dirt and rocks ahead of us. The others immediately used their hand shovels to pry away the painted bits, dumping them in buckets that we had brought before Raindrop floated the buckets up onto that tarp, being careful to spread the dirt and rocks out to avoid putting too much weight on one spot at a time. This was the most important part of the entire thing. After all the time and effort we had put into this, the last thing we wanted was to screw up now. We were all working as quietly as possible, each of us in our own little world. It was incredibly unlikely that our voices would have carried anywhere near the base, but still. It felt wrong to be chatting, so we didn¡¯t. We just worked as silently and efficiently as possible. After all the pink-paint digging we¡¯d done over the past weeks, we didn¡¯t have to talk, or even think very much. We were basically experts at the whole thing.


    In what honestly felt like no time at all, given how nervous I was about the next stage, the tunnel was finished. Finished for good this time. We were there. We had dug downward enough that the metal wall was right in front of us, now fully revealed. On the other side of it was the Ministry base. And, with any luck, a whole lot of answers about my family¡¯s business.


    I¡¯d had a momentary thought of how bad it would be if there were any pictures or anything inside the base that would give away my parents¡¯ identities. But I dismissed the thought just as quickly. There was absolutely no way that my family would be that sloppy. They hadn¡¯t kept this whole thing a secret for this long by being stupid enough to have pictures of themselves lying around their hidden base. Mom had smacked Simon with a shoe for bringing it home when it was connected to their unknown witness (me). If Dad suggested leaving pictures of themselves around their criminal empire base, she¡¯d probably hit him with a shoe store.


    Besides, would it be that bad if I was forced into explaining the whole situation to the others? Amber and Izzy already knew. Not to mention Paige and Raige. By leaving the others out, I was creating a divide. Someday soon, I was going to have to do something about that. If I didn¡¯t, it was almost certain that the whole thing would bite me in the ass. I knew that, I acknowledged it. But it just¡­ it wasn¡¯t the right time. I¡¯d only just told them about the Ministry itself. Getting into my own family¡¯s involvement was¡­ yeah. I would get into it. I would tell them. Just not yet.


    Shaking those thoughts off, I turned to the others while putting my hand against the metal wall. Still remaining silent, I simply looked at each of them. They were spread out a bit through the open chamber, and when I met their gazes, they all gave me a thumbs up, a nod, or some other sign. Paige, in particular, gave me a dual thumbs up. One for herself and one for Raige. They were ready. We all were. It was time to do this.


    To that end, I painted the wall in front of us pink. Then I stepped out of the way as Pack and Way moved forward with another toy from Wren. This looked like a handful of batteries strapped to some silly putty. Like a bomb. It looked like a bomb. But according to the girl who had created it, the device would send a strong concussive blast forward, like a shaped charge or whatever. The battery-powered putty thing was attached to the middle of the pink-covered wall, and I activated the paint just before Amber hit the button to trigger Wren¡¯s ¡®explosive.¡¯


    Instantly, the chunk of wall was blown inward, creating an opening. Before the changes tonight, Amber was supposed to be the first one through. But Paige had insisted that she should go first, given the skills she had. And after what I had seen her do in her father¡¯s factory, I couldn¡¯t exactly argue with that. Now that she was participating, there was no question that she was the best one to be in the lead. If there was anyone on the other side of that opening, Paige could deal with them. And if she couldn¡¯t, well, the rest of us were probably screwed in this situation.


    So, she went through the hole, followed closely by Amber, then Pack. I went fourth, with the others right behind me. I hadn¡¯t heard any gunfire or struggling yet, so I supposed there hadn¡¯t been¨C


    There was an unconscious figure on the ground at Paige¡¯s feet. She had clearly just dragged the person, who wore a white lab coat over casual clothes, away from the hole as I stepped through into what turned out to be a pristine white corridor at the bottom of a long set of stairs that almost certainly led up to the entrance I had seen before. The corridor itself went on for about another ten feet to the right before curving left, and there was a door almost straight across from the hole we had made. Meanwhile, a camera poking out of the ceiling right where the hall curved basically proved we had already been seen. Yeah, this was going to have to be quick. Not that that was exactly news.


    And speaking of being quick, there was that unconscious person. I seriously had not heard a single thing. Paige knocked them out¨Cwait, were they¡­ yes, I could see the person¡¯s chest moving up and down. They were alive. She knocked them out without me hearing it, even though I was only a few feet behind her. That was just¨Cwow.


    No time to be amazed, though. With that camera up there and proof that there were at least some people still in this base, we had to move. Immediately, Amber, Izzy, and Pack ran to the door that was right there. The two older girls went through first, already unslinging their backpacks so they could start shoving things inside.


    Meanwhile, I ran alongside Paige, with Alloy, Murphy and Roald bringing up the rear. The five of us passed just under the camera, which had shifted to follow us. But I grabbed the electrified baton that Amber had provided, snapping it out to its full extension as we ran under the camera before jumping to lash out with it. The blow took the camera full on the lens, shattering it. They still knew we were here, but at least they couldn¡¯t actively track us with that camera.


    We turned the corner, seeing a whole long corridor ahead of us with doors on both sides, leading to a set of swinging double-doors at the end, like in a hospital. Or a laboratory, I supposed. Either way, there was clearly a lot to search down here. And we didn¡¯t have much time.


    ¡°Split up,¡± Paige announced in her own altered voice. She pointed to the nearby door, then to Alloy, Murphy, and Roald. ¡°You three grab everything in there. All of it. Scream if you see anyone. Come on.¡± That last bit was to me, as she grabbed my arm before heading down the hall toward those double doors.


    To the left, one of the doors opened as we neared it. Paige lunged ahead of me, but it was just Pack coming through. Apparently the room they had gone into over in the first corridor connected through to this one. Her bag was clearly about half-full of stuff, and we barely exchanged looks before she went straight across to the room across the hall. Izzy and Amber were behind her, both of them splitting up to take a different room.


    Thus far we hadn¡¯t seen any people other than the one that Paige had knocked out. Maybe that guy was the only one here. Wouldn¡¯t that be¨Cnope, I wasn¡¯t even going to consider it.


    Instead, I focused on running alongside Paige as the two of us full-on sprinted to those double-doors. And boy did it feel weird to run with all this¡­ weight on the front of my chest. Yeah, yeah, it wasn¡¯t really that much. But it still threw me off. It still felt awkward and¨Cblah. It was different. I felt off-balance, probably not helped by the thought of exactly what I was wearing. There was a not-insubstantial part of me that wanted to rip it off.


    Just as we reached the doors, my hope that there was no one else here ended up being dashed, as two figures stepped into view. These were no scientists, however. They were clearly security guards, wearing dark blue uniforms with a couple submachine guns in their hands. Yes, these were literal submachine guns, not pistols or whatever. These guys weren¡¯t playing around.


    Fortunately, we wouldn¡¯t have to find out if they were planning to shoot us with them. The instant those doors started opening, I activated a bit of the hidden green and purple paint on myself and Paige. The two of us hit the two guards much sooner than they expected, ripping the guns out of their hands before tossing them aside. I caught hold of my own guard, yanking him around bodily by the wrist with my enhanced strength while he yelped in surprise. In the next second, I had him shoved hard up against the wall while shoving the taser baton into his back.


    I¡¯d heard plenty of times that tasers didn¡¯t generally work like they did in the movies. It wasn¡¯t like you got hit once and fell unconscious. But the ones that Amber had provided came from the police and were Touched-Tech. They did knock you out, assuming you weren¡¯t protected in some way. Taking a direct hit from a baton like that could put you down for a few minutes. And a few minutes was all we needed.


    As my guy dropped, I snapped my gaze to the side. Paige had already dealt with hers and was moving through the swinging doors. So I went right behind her, hearing the others behind us tearing apart their own rooms.


    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t get to see what the room on the other side of those double doors looked like. It was pitch black as we went through. I couldn¡¯t see six inches in front of my face. But I did hear a voice abruptly speak loudly, the sound echoing through what sounded like a large space.


    ¡°Interesting. Leave one alive to answer questions.¡±


    And then the gunfire started.

 Dig In 22-11

    Even as the guns started, Paige was already yanking me to the floor with a snapped, ¡°Table.¡± A second later, I heard a heavy thud as the table itself that she had dragged me behind was knocked over to create a shield. Which, honestly, I had no faith whatsoever that a table was going to block incoming bullets, but it seemed to do the job. At least if the sound of them rapidly ricocheting off the metal just a few inches from my head was any indication.


    Well, so much for doing this quickly and quietly! Now Paige and I were in a pitch-black room, crouched behind a metal table that was, thankfully, shielding us from the hail of gunfire from who the hell knew how many guards. A not-insubstantial part of me was terrified, as I put both hands over the back of my head and struggled not to scream or cry under the assault. These weren¡¯t stun guns, and these guys clearly weren¡¯t playing around. They were intent on killing at least one of us. As the man had said, they only needed one of us to answer questions. And I was pretty sure the idea was that whoever survived would be more willing to talk if they were faced with the dead body of their companion.


    For just a second, I thought about what would happen if I was the one who died. What if I was dead and my parents found my body? What would they do? How would they react? The morbid hypothetical filled my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else for a moment until I shoved it aside. Now really wasn¡¯t the time to think about dying.


    Paige¡¯s hand found my arm, as she hissed in my ear, ¡°They¡¯re circling, we need to move.¡± Thanks to the voice changer, it would be impossible to identify her if their recording equipment managed to pick up her words. But hearing her talk still made me flinch reflexively.


    Still, she was right, I knew immediately. If we just laid here and I surrendered to the terror that had overwhelmed me in that moment, it was all going to be over. Even if we didn¡¯t die, we would be captured and my parents would find out the whole truth. Then they would either¡­ wipe my memory or¡­ something. I had no idea, and I really wasn¡¯t in any hurry to find out. Nor did I want to find out what they would do to the others. I didn¡¯t want to think about everyone¡¯s memories being wiped, about them going back to having no idea what was really going on in this city. And that was the best possible scenario of what would happen if we were caught.


    ¡°Can you see?¡± I found myself hissing under my breath. It was a good thing that the guns shooting at us were using some form of silencer. Or at least a quieter. The shots were loud, but not nearly as deafening as they would have been otherwise in this space.


    Wait, in this space. Now that I thought about it, I knew the exact dimensions of the room. It was forty-five feet wide at our end, shaped mostly like a half-circle with the curved side opposite us. The ceiling was basically twelve feet up, but also slightly concave. Wait, or convex. Which one meant curved upward slightly? Whatever, it was slightly curved to the point that the very middle of the ceiling was actually more like fourteen feet high. There were six long metal tables in the room just like this one, each arranged seemingly randomly, and adorned with tools, microscopes, computers, silver trays, stuff like that. Not to mention the eighteen swivel chairs and four wooden ones. There were objects all over the room, and I knew where they were. I knew the dimensions of the place and what was in it. Not the people, but at least the objects. Some of them, anyway. I knew stuff about the room, even though it had been pitch-black since we walked in and I had absolutely never seen it or been in here before.


    How did I know that stuff?! I had no idea. But I was absolutely certain it was right. The knowledge just jumped into my head in that instant, even as Paige hissed that she could, in fact, see.


    Okay, so Paige could see, and I could sense everything in the room for some reason. I¡¯d have to figure out how later. Right now, all that mattered was getting out of this alive and uncaptured. I had no doubt that the others were on the other side of that door, waiting for an opening. They had to know that we were still alive in here, given that the gunfire hadn¡¯t stopped. But they couldn¡¯t come in to help, or they¡¯d be in the middle of a shooting gallery. And even if these suits protected against the worst damage of being shot a couple times, I really didn¡¯t think they could stand up against this level of incoming fire.


    We needed to give them an opening. And I knew just how to do that. At least, I hoped I did.


    To that end, I grabbed Paige¡¯s arm and whispered, ¡°Table run.¡± To demonstrate, I took her hand and pushed it against the underside of the table, then took the other and pushed it against one of the legs.


    She understood, immediately grabbing both spots as she started to lift the table from that side. Quickly, I activated a couple more green and purple paint spots on both of us, before grabbing the table myself. Together, the two of us rose, lifting the table with us as the gunfire continued to ricochet off it. Whatever this thing was made out of, it was strong enough to take a hell of a lot of abuse. I just hoped it stayed together long enough for us to do this.


    Together, clutching the table as a shield, Paige and I ran straight toward the men, who seemed to be firing even more frantically. They were also starting to split apart, if my judgment of where the shots were coming from was any indication. Given an extra second or two, they would have spread out far enough to shoot us from the side, where the table would be no protection.


    Thankfully, the table was quite long, and we weren¡¯t going to give them that extra second. Just before the men would have been far enough apart to pose a real threat, Paige and I heaved the table at them, using the boosted strength to send it flying quite hard that way. The thing collided with the men. I couldn¡¯t see them, but I could hear as they were struck by the thing and went down like an assortment of bowling pins. From the sound of things, a couple managed to dive out of the way. Including one who ended up going under the table in a roll that brought him right near the two of us. I could hear him right by my feet, as he started to push himself up.


    Before he could, and before I managed to react myself, Paige¡¯s hand grabbed the man by the back of his neck and his arm. I heard his yelp, and her grunt, as she hauled him from the floor and literally threw the man to the other side of the room.


    She must have taken his gun too, because the next thing I knew, Paige was yanking me behind her while extending her other arm as the sound of gunfire exploded right there. She was shooting at the other men, even as her voice snapped, ¡°New table six feet to your left and back two!¡±


    I knew that, of course. But she didn¡¯t know that I knew it. Still, I was already moving, jumping at just the right time despite the pitch-blackness to throw myself that way and slide across the top of the table in question. I was pretty sure I could have cleared it normally, with my boosted strength, but between the unexpected weight on the front of my chest and these shoes, I didn¡¯t trust myself to land properly. So I took it a bit easy. A handful of random tools, trays, and so on were knocked out of my way as I slid to the far side and off before shoving the table over with a grunt of effort. These things were heavy, even with my boosted strength. No wonder they were able to stand up to so much punishment.


    A second later, Paige was right beside me as she vaulted over the overturned table to land in a crouch on my left. ¡°We¡¯re on the opposite side of the room,¡± she hissed. ¡°I hit three guys in the knees and two in the side. Enough to put them down for now. There¡¯s ten left, including their leader. They¡¯re spread out and regrouping.¡±


    We couldn¡¯t give them time to do that, of course. Hitting them now, while they were temporarily split up and disorganized, was our best shot to get out of this. Not to mention, there had to be reinforcements on their way right now. The longer this took, the more screwed we were going to be.


    Fortunately, we weren¡¯t in here alone, and now we were on this side of the room, it would give Amber and the others an opening. We just had to let them know the opening existed before it was too late. This, right now, was our very best shot at dealing with these guys before things got a hell of a lot worse.


    With that in mind, I hissed, ¡°Can you see the light switch?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Rather than answer immediately, Paige leaned up over the table and used her acquired gun to fire several shots. I could hear the men scrambling out of the way. Then she looked around briefly before ducking back with a grunted, ¡°Found it. Twelve feet right. I can get there but need a distraction.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have it,¡± I assured her. ¡°On three. One, two, three.¡±


    On that third number, I activated the large orange and purple dragon I had been painting on the inside of my suit for the past couple seconds. At the same time, I activated a couple more orange and green spots on Paige, to give her a bit of a boost. Then I rose, grabbing the table we were using as cover. With the amount of paint I had given myself, I was able to lift it fairly easily. The guards clearly saw it, because they opened fire immediately. They had also gotten smart enough to aim for my feet and ankles as I lifted the table. But my hidden orange paint made those bullets bounce off the boots, before I went running toward the middle of the room and hurled the table to one side, in the direction I could hear the most gunfire coming from. There was another table immediately to the opposite side, and I, once again, threw myself in a slide across it. I misjudged the length of my own foot thanks to those shoes, hitting a computer monitor and knocking it off the table with a loud crash.


    Roughly, a hand grabbed my shoulder and I felt a fist slam into my face. Fortunately, it hurt that guy a lot more than it did me, thanks to my still-active paint. The man yelped in pain as I heard several of his fingers crack under the impact. In his case, it was like punching a brick wall. He instantly regretted it. And he also regretted being close to me, as I yanked my arm out of his grip before grabbing the front of his shirt. I could feel that he was wearing some sort of uniform and body armor. Which didn¡¯t stop me from hoisting the man off his feet before I threw him as far as I could. As it turned out, the guard¡¯s name was not Wilhelm, but he did give a pretty good scream anyway.


    And in the next instant, the lights suddenly turned on. It was briefly blinding, but I was prepared for it while the others weren¡¯t. I could immediately take in the room around us, which¨Cwell, looked identical to how my power had said it did. But now I could see the guards in their white and gray body armor all around. They had helmets with clear night-vision goggles attached. Unfortunately, they were clearly using the more advanced night-vision that instantly turned off when the lights came on, because none of them were screaming or tearing at the goggles. They recoiled slightly, but no worse than I had. Taken by surprise, yet not blinded.


    But we had a little more help. In the next second, even as everyone in here was still reacting to the lights coming on, the double doors at the other side swung open. Amber and Pack were right there, both with their borrowed stun guns raised. They each shot at two of the men in sight, sending them to the floor in a fit of spasms.


    A third guy was turning that way with his gun raised, but Murphy and Roald were right behind those two and managed to dive at the man together. They collided with him, taking the guy off his feet from the impact of being hit by both teenagers. The pair hit him with their batons, and he was out of the fight. And the fourth guy, who had been behind the door there, was taken down by Peyton as she drove her own baton hard into his stomach just as he took aim at the others.


    My paint was about to run out, but it wasn¡¯t gone yet. So, I reached down to grab the fallen computer monitor that I had knocked over during my slide across the table. With a grunt, I turned and pitched it toward the nearest guy, while he was aiming toward the new arrivals. It took him in the side of the helmet, knocking him to the floor with a cry.


    At the same time, Izzy had appeared in the doorway with her own stun gun raised to take down yet another man on that side of the room. Three seconds into this since the lights had come on, and of the ten guys that Paige had said were still up and moving, I had thrown one into the wall and clocked another with the computer monitor, Amber, Pack, Peyton, and Izzy had each taken down one, and Murphy and Roald together took another. Seven down, which left three.


    No, not three, I realized. Two of the remaining guys were already down at Paige¡¯s feet. How she had dealt with them, I have no idea. But they were definitely done.


    So there was one more left. And my eyes found him just as the man in question rose with his arms raised above his head. He looked basically like the others, aside from the fact that his body armor looked a little fancier and he had a radio held high in one of those raised hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are or who you¡¯re working for!¡± he called while scanning all of us. ¡°But I promise that every single one of you is going to regret this pretty damn quick.¡±


    Reinforcements. They had reinforcements coming. We had already known that would happen, of course. But considering this guy was clearly the leader of their security down here, and he had the radio, I was going to assume he had already called for help. Which meant we were about to officially be out of time. If those reinforcements got here while we were still standing around, it was going to be a hell of a lot worse than this had been.


    Amber obviously knew that too, because she didn¡¯t hesitate before lifting her own stun gun to fire a shot straight into the man¡¯s chest. He recoiled and hit the floor, the radio falling away. Then she spoke sharply. ¡°Turn your boosters to max, don¡¯t worry about burning them out. Grab everything you can, then we¡¯re gone.¡±


    Boosters to max. I knew what she was talking about. The paint. She was telling me to activate their speed paint so everyone could move faster, but doing it in a way that if anyone was watching the video of this later (like my parents), they would think that the speed came from enhancements on the suits or something. Either way, it would disguise the truth.


    I gave a quick glance around the room, focusing on each of them in turn to activate the paint. Not just their speed, but strength too. Then I ran to the nearest computer tower. The second I started moving, the others knew their own paint had been activated, so they ran too. There were computers all over the room, and we were already yanking them open to tear out the harddrives.  All around the room, computers were being ripped apart so we could get at what was inside. I was shoving the first drive in my bag even as I ran to the far wall, where there were a bunch of papers taped up. I couldn¡¯t take the time to read what they said, not now. I just yanked them off the wall and shoved them in the bag, then grabbed a handful of vials of various liquids that were sitting on the nearby table, before doing the same for another handful in a fridge. It just looked like a bunch of colorful liquids inside glass vials. I had no idea what they were for or how we would figure it out, but they looked like they might be important, so I grabbed them. Unsure of how fragile they were, I grabbed a nearby towel to wrap them up in before stuffing them in the front pocket of the bag, apart from the rest of the stuff.


    Next, I noticed a small room next to the fridge. There was a desk in there with another computer and a heavy filing cabinet. I managed to yank that harddrive just before my paint ran out, and I had to renew it once more so I could break the lock on the filing cabinet.


    Paige was right there, the two of us working together to grab everything from the drawers. We didn¡¯t bother looking at what we were taking, we just yanked the folders and shoved them into our bags. Then we retreated from the room. Paige was shouting, ¡°Move! Go, now! No time!¡±


    We went. Sprinting back the way we had come, we all raced for the entrance we had made. Whether we had anything useful or not, I had no idea. But we couldn¡¯t push things any further than we already had. We would sort through it all later, once we were safe.


    Unfortunately, we weren¡¯t homefree yet. As we raced down the hall back the way we¡¯d come (past several other unconscious figures that the others had apparently dealt with), I could hear the door starting to open at the top of the stairs nearby. The real entrance. They were here and coming in.


    Paige heard it too. She still had the gun she¡¯d taken from one of the guards back there slung over one shoulder. In one smooth motion, she pulled it free, aimed the weapon with one hand, and let loose that way. The hail of bullets all hit the door just as it was starting to open, making the person on the other side reflexively yank it shut once more.


    ¡°Go!¡± she shouted at the rest of us while sending another couple shots that way to keep the people outside from coming through. Not that I expected it to hold them for long.


    We went. One by one, we all lunged through the opening and back into the tunnel. I was second-to-last, right behind Paige. ¡°Come on!¡± I shouted back that way, standing just inside the tunnel entrance.


    Her gun clicked dry, just as the door at the top of the stairs opened. The gunfire from their side started up, and Paige threw herself through the hole with bullets hitting the ground right where she had been an instant earlier. Already, the men coming in were descending the stairs, their shots starting to come closer to us. Together, Paige and I exchanged a quick look, before racing to join the others. We ran through the open area, and I chanced a glance up. The canvas tarp was straining under the weight of the dirt and rocks piled up on it.


    We reached the far end of the open space, and Paige¡¯s hand was already lashing out to grab the anchor rope. She yanked it hard while shoving me forward, diving after me. In the next instant, I heard a terrifying crash as all that stuff came crashing down. The ceiling in that area had been carved up high enough to allow so much dirt and rocks into the space that when it dropped, nearly that whole area in front of the entrance was blocked. I had no doubt they would force their way through, but it would take them a little time. Time that was incredibly important right now.


    Standing bunched up together in the tunnel, we all looked at one another. We could hear shouts from the other side of the dirt pile. They would be coming soon. They would also be spreading out and going up to find out where the tunnel was from above, or where the other end was. We didn¡¯t have time to regroup, not just yet.


    So, with an assortment of nods, we turned back to the tunnel. And we started to run once more.

 Dig In 22-12

    The tunnel was louder now than it had ever been in its entire existence. Heavy panting filled it, along with the sound of running footsteps as we raced, single-file, away from the sound of angry guards who had found their pursuit blocked.


    ¡°Go, run, just keep running!¡± Amber blurted after giving a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure we were coming. ¡°They¡¯ll be right behind us.¡±


    She was right. I would have loved to say that we were through the hard part now, but I wasn¡¯t that naive. We may have gotten out of the base itself with our hides (and identities) intact, but we were far from home free. Until we were out of this tunnel, miles away from this place, and positive that we weren¡¯t being actively chased, everything could still go completely wrong. It wasn¡¯t like my family¡¯s people would just collectively shrug at the pile of dirt in their way and give up. This wasn¡¯t a video game where the enemy would stop tracking you and go back to normal behavior after the mildest of obstacles. They knew we had been inside the secret base. They knew there was a tunnel here. They knew we were still running through it. And soon they would know where the other end was. There was no doubt of that. They would already be scouting it out. The only real question was whether we would escape before they closed the net. And there was nothing I could do about how quickly they managed that.


    On the other hand, I could do something about our own speed. Now that we were out of sight from any cameras or onlookers, there was nothing stopping me from using my paint. So that was exactly what I did. Aiming quickly as we ran, I shot a stream of green paint until it had hit everyone, including Paige behind me. Then I activated it, boosting our speed as much as I could.


    God, it felt so claustrophobic down here all of a sudden. More than it ever had while we were digging it. Was that just the adrenaline and panic from the situation? I felt trapped in this tunnel, knowing that the Ministry people were no doubt already spreading out to find it from above, or to find the other end. They would be working out where it was, and the motel site wouldn¡¯t exactly be hard to guess. We just had to beat them there. Which was not a given, considering the resources they had. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t have been the least-bit surprised to find out that they had a helicopter up there scouring the area already. That might¡¯ve seemed ridiculous in some cases, but this was my parents and the Ministry. They definitely had the resources to get something in the air that fast if they really wanted to. And the intruder alarm in one of their secret bases going off would definitely make them want to.


    The tunnel didn¡¯t just seem tighter, more suffocating, it felt longer too. I could have sworn I had walked out of it faster than we were running. Was there some spatial distortion effect going on? Did my parents have that much power? Were they capable of pointing something at the tunnel to bend space so we could never get out of it? No. No, they didn¡¯t. That was ridiculous. I knew that already. We¡¯d barely started running. It wasn¡¯t any longer. And yet, even knowing that, I couldn¡¯t shut the panicked thought out of my head. Nor could I stop imagining us getting to the end of the tunnel and climbing up, only to find both of my parents and a horde of their people sitting there waiting for us. Every step we took, part of me screamed that this was taking too long. We were too slow. We were too fucking slow!


    Wren and Fred were on standby, of course. If we had to, we could use Wren¡¯s emergency teleporter, or even just have Amber teleport with us. But we really didn¡¯t want to do either of those if we could help it. Wren¡¯s especially, given how nervous the girl was about putting it into action. That was only for if we were completely fucked and about to be captured, or worse. Amber¡¯s was slightly more useful right now, but we wanted to avoid using that too. Mostly because we wanted the Ministry to see how we had escaped and not start wondering if teleportation had been involved. Sure, it was unlikely that that would necessarily lead them directly to Wren or Amber, but still. Every little bit of misdirection was important. If they could follow our trail all the way through the tunnel and see how we had driven away, they would be even less likely to glance in directions we didn¡¯t want them to glance in.


    The real trick was to give them enough of a trail to follow without getting caught. Because quite frankly, I really didn¡¯t want to end up getting memory-wiped by my parents today. Or any day, really. Once was enough. Not that I even knew for sure that it had only been¨C


    Oh thank God, we were there. The others had already reached the open area at the head of the tunnel, with Paige and me right behind them. Even as the two of us emerged, Pack was already climbing the ladder with her borrowed stun gun raised, just in case. Her head and upper-body disappeared through the opening, and I found myself holding my breath for what felt like an eternity before she called, ¡°We¡¯re clear!¡±


    With that, she hauled herself up and out. Meanwhile, I pointed, painting a bit of blue right at the base of the ladder before activating it. Alloy stepped there first, tucking her arms to her sides as she was sent flying up just enough to reach the top rung and pull herself out the rest of the way. One by one, the others followed suit, stepping to the paint and bouncing up. We weren¡¯t taking the time to climb the ten feet to the room above. A quick bounce on blue paint did the trick.


    Technically we could have used Amber¡¯s teleportation from this spot since we knew they weren¡¯t here yet and could track us this far, but again, we wanted them to see exactly how we had escaped and that it had nothing to do with teleportation.


    It was just possible we were being too paranoid about that, but I just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that letting my family have the slightest hint that we had used teleportation to escape was a bad idea. Especially considering how obsessively they would be scouring this place. For all we knew, they had some way of detecting that. How I had no idea, and yet¡­ yeah, this was just safer in the long run. Assuming our luck (and planning) held out a bit longer.


    While the others made their way up, I glanced back the way we had come, just in case our not-so-friendly pursuers had managed to get through the dirt we blocked them with. Nothing. I couldn¡¯t hear a thing from down there. Either they weren¡¯t trying to dig through, or¨Cwhatever, everyone else was gone. Which meant it was my turn to go. And that, of course, was when I heard it. Two its, really. First, the sound of men in the tunnel. They were coming. Worse, there was the distinctive heavy thwump thwump thwump of helicopter blades. Not only were our pursuers coming up the tunnel, they were above us in the air. Which meant I had to get the hell out of here.


    The blue paint was gone, and I didn¡¯t want to take the chance that the guys coming up the tunnel would see it before I could make the spot disappear. So I simply coated the inside of my suit with green paint to speed myself up and climbed as fast as possible. I took the ladder two rungs at a time, practically flying up it while blurting, ¡°They¡¯re coming through!¡±


    As soon as I was out, the others shoved the pallet with the cement bags on it back into place. Again, anything to slow these guys down. We just wanted them to know how we had escaped, not handcuff ourselves to their guns.


    Knowing that wouldn¡¯t stop them forever, or even for that long most likely, none of us exchanged another word. We just ran straight out of the room and into the construction lot. The helicopter was high above, its spotlight at the far end of the construction site. They didn¡¯t know exactly which room we would be coming out of (or even that this was the right place for sure), and were apparently right in the midst of flipping around for another pass. Even as we all glanced that way, the chopper¡¯s spotlight was swinging back along the grounds, looking for us.


    It hadn¡¯t been that long. Despite my panic, I was certain that it had only been a few minutes or so since we set off that alarm by going into the base. Everything, everything that happened in there had been incredibly quick. And yet, just as expected, my family¡¯s people already had a helicopter in the air right above the construction site. They had narrowed it down that quickly, had gotten the chopper in the air and searching already. It was crazy. An expected and unsurprising crazy, yes, but still crazy.


    Naturally, our escape plan didn¡¯t end at the motel. We had known that the Ministry would be right behind us, and were pretty confident they would have helicopter support. It wasn¡¯t fantastic, but we¡¯d planned for it.


    To that end, we all ran across the construction site, racing all-out toward a pitch-black corner near a big mound of dirt. Next to that mound, a dark brown tarp covered the next stage of our escape. It wouldn¡¯t have hidden the thing from anyone standing down here with light, but from above a helicopter doing a quick sweep looking for running people would¡¯ve missed it. At least, that had been the idea, and it seemed to have worked, given the chopper wasn¡¯t focusing its light that way.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Oh, but it was focusing on us. Yeah, it hadn¡¯t taken long for someone up there to notice us. Before we were halfway to the tarp, the spotlight swung our way, and suddenly it was like I was back on stage during the seventh-grade play. Only I was pretty sure the consequences to freezing up right now would be worse than a little embarrassment and polite chuckles from parents who didn¡¯t want to be there to begin with.


    Thankfully, the spotlight had barely made it over to us before we darted out of its sight, with the dirt pile blocking most of the chopper¡¯s view. It was still in the midst of swinging around though, so that advantage would only last for a couple seconds. Worse, I could see headlights approaching from the mall parking lot, cutting straight across the street in the process. The engines were loud and angry, like violent hornets whose nest had been disturbed.


    Without missing a beat, we all crouched, grabbed a piece of the tarp, and yanked it off the van that was waiting there. Pack went to get in, but Paige¨Cno, it was Raige¨C beat her there while taking the key from her hand with a quick promise that she could drive faster. Pack hesitated only a split-second before realizing that arguing about it was a bad idea. Instead, she dove in the back right after Murphy and Roald got in, Alloy right behind them with me bringing up the rear. Amber was in front with Raige. Izzy was already in the back too, so I grabbed the door and yanked it shut while shouting, ¡°Let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going!¡± Raige shot back. She had already started the van and was flooring the gas while twisting the wheel to pull sharply away from the mound of dirt that had helped hide the vehicle. But she didn¡¯t head for the road, where we could already see three different cars hauling ass to get up here while the helicopter¡¯s spotlight resettled on us. Instead, Raige floored the gas to send the van heading straight for a small dirt ramp we had built at the edge of the lot. It wasn¡¯t the ¡®get air¡¯ sort of ramp, awesome as that would¡¯ve been. No, I had shown a truly remarkable amount of restraint if I did say so myself, and only put together a high enough ramp to let the van drive up and over the curb to the dirt and weeds beyond. Just like that, we were plummeting down the hill toward the road, while the helicopter kept pace, the light making sure we couldn¡¯t disappear on them.


    At least, not yet.


    Raige wasn¡¯t content in just driving straight down the hill. Instead, she started snapping the wheel from one side to the other, making the van jerk violently in the process. Right after she started doing that, the rear window shattered as a bullet hit it. A bullet that narrowly missed all of us and embedded itself in one of the seats while we reflexively screamed and dropped lower.


    ¡°Stay down!¡± Raige snapped, spinning the wheel hard to the right and then back again. She was giving the sniper up in the chopper as hard a time as possible, but we had to get off this hill. Between the chopper with the gunman above us, and the guys in the cars right behind (they were just crossing our ramp), this whole situation could spiral out of control in seconds.


    ¡°You people better be holding on back there!¡± Raige informed us through gritted teeth. ¡°Cuz here we¡­ go!¡± On that ¡®go,¡¯ the van hit an inclined bit of ground and launched itself. Seriously, that time we really did catch air, flying for what sure felt like several glorious seconds before coming down hard on the actual road. Really, the only bad part about it (besides the fact that we were in a chase for our lives) was that the stupid stuffed bra thing on my chest bounced up to smack me in the face as I looked down. Because everything I was dealing with right then wasn¡¯t enough, I also had to be literally physically assaulted by the reminder that I wasn¡¯t especially well-endowed.


    As soon as we were on the street, Raige floored the gas and we took off, speeding around a couple oncoming cars in the process. As the van angled toward a side street, we picked up several tails coming up fast, and that helicopter was still right above us. The gunman up there  had tried a couple more shots, apparently aiming for the wheels. But Raige wasn¡¯t giving him the benefit of keeping the van steady, jerking the wheel wildly so he couldn¡¯t get a clear shot.


    ¡°Think we¡¯ve got their attention?!¡± Amber called back while gripping the bar above the front passenger seat window.


    Murphy, ducked down low with Roald, shouted, ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re gonna get a better audience than this, boss! At least not without its own problems!¡±


    She was right. We had several cars on our tail and the helicopter above us taking shots. This wasn¡¯t going to get any better than it was, and it had the potential to get a hell of a lot worse. We wanted Ministry people to see what happened, not actually catch or stop us. So, I grabbed my phone and hit the speed dial button.


    ¡°Doctor?¡± It was Wren, using the code we¡¯d established to make sure it wasn¡¯t someone else using my phone after we had all been captured.


    ¡°All I have is patience,¡± I replied with the counter code.


    Wren sounded somewhat relieved, but not all the way. There was still a bit of apprehension in her voice as she asked, ¡°Option A¡­ o-or Option F?¡±


    F for fail, as in we had to use the emergency teleporter. Grimacing a bit, I shook my head. ¡°Option A.¡±


    Sounding considerably happier, Wren quickly replied, ¡°Oh! Okay, got it. Good, good. Aaaand, there.¡±


    Abruptly, the van jerked a bit for a reason entirely unrelated to Raige¡¯s driving. Really unrelated, given her hands were off the wheel. It continued to weave back and forth across the road, but now it was Fred in control, from all the way back at the shop. He was remote-controlling it using a small camera on the dash and one of Wren¡¯s toys plugged into the electrical system.


    With Fred in control of the van and all our pursuers coming up fast, Raige abandoned the driver¡¯s seat and clambered into the back with the rest of us. She was joined quickly by Amber, and we all huddled in close together.


    ¡°How close are we?¡± I asked into the phone.


    ¡°Wait for it,¡± came Wren¡¯s terse answer as she was clearly watching the map and comparing it to Fred¡¯s driving. ¡°Just a little more¡­¡± Even as she was saying that, I felt the van lurch a bit as one of the pursuing cars slammed into us from behind. And in that moment, the right rear tire was blown out, making the van start to violently lurch before the rims screamed in protest. We were bouncing along.


    ¡°Now, tell her now!¡± Wren blurted. Even as she said that, the van started to spin-out, the tires (or what remained of them) screaming in protest.


    ¡°We¡¯re there, do it!¡± I snapped immediately, while the world outside the deeply-tinted windows whirled wildly.


    Amber wasted no time. We all grabbed onto her as she crouched in the middle of the group, and then we were elsewhere. We all appeared on top of the roof of a building that we had scouted out earlier. Amber knew where it was, and how to teleport to it from the spot on the ground where the van had just been when Wren gave the word. She didn¡¯t have to look, she just trusted that it was the right distance and angle, and poof, there we were.


    The instant we arrived, we all heard the scream of breaking metal. While we were still in there, the van had been hurtling straight toward a sharp corner, only to ¡®miss¡¯ and spin out. And the instant we teleported to safety, Fred sent the ¡®out of control¡¯ vehicle right through the guardrail that was supposed to stop vehicles from plummeting off the road to end up in the middle of Lake St. Clair.


    And that, of course, was exactly what we wanted.


    My head snapped up to look for the helicopter first. There it was, off in the distance several buildings away. They were fully focused on the remote-controlled van just as it went hurtling off the embankment at top-speed, literally catching air off the slight incline at the bottom before flying out to crash into the water. It sank out of sight immediately.


    The helicopter stayed in place over at the spot where the van had disappeared, while the cars took the longer way down there. I could almost hear my parents on the phone already, ordering divers to get into the water. Even now, a second spotlight had appeared from the chopper, scanning the water to look for anyone surfacing while the first stayed on that spot. They were watching for us. No doubt they would have even more people scouring every place where we could climb ashore, while the divers picked through the wreckage.


    It was okay, they wouldn¡¯t find much. Wren would already have self-destructed the remote control and camera, and she had assured me that there would be nothing to find. In her words, it would turn into goo and wash away.


    So, they would find nothing in the van. Of course, they would realize we had escaped, but they wouldn¡¯t know how exactly. And while they were wasting time searching down there, we were all the way over here. We were done. We were out. We¡­ we¡­


    ¡°We made it.¡± That was Roald, sounding completely shocked by his own words. ¡°We didn¡¯t get caught.¡±


    ¡°We did?¡± Alloy was patting herself down, just as surprised by the declaration. ¡°We¡­ we did.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not celebrate too much until we get back to the shop in one piece,¡± Amber pointed out, her eyes on the chopper in the distance. ¡°But yeah, looks like we actually pulled it off.¡± She glanced toward me, then over at Pack before adding, ¡°They¡¯re gonna be really pissed off now.¡±


    ¡°We knew they would be,¡± I replied, resisting the urge to reach up under my suit to rip off the fake bra. I wanted the damn thing off, but now wasn¡¯t the time. Instead, I glanced toward Raige, who was staring at the assorted backpacks full of the stuff we¡¯d stolen. ¡°Remember¨C¡±


    ¡°I know, I know, don¡¯t open the bags or the tracking device blockers the genius built into them won¡¯t work,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not a fucking idiot. We don¡¯t get to look through the loot until we get them back to the shop and she okays everything as not being tracked. So come on then, let¡¯s get back there and get on with this already. And I sure as fuck hope there¡¯s something we can use somewhere in there, because I am done sharing a body.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, Raige, I hope there is too,¡± I quietly replied, glancing out toward the hovering helicopter in the distance. ¡°Because whatever happens next, I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯re gonna want both of you up and moving.¡±

 Dig In 22-13

    So, we made our way back to the shop. We were careful, of course. First, Peyton and I took the time to each find a private area to change into our actual costumes. Amber had grabbed the bag with the costumes in it just before teleporting us out of the van. Naturally, the most important part of that point was that I was able to take the damn bra thing off. I resisted the urge to hurl it as far as I could, but only barely. I really hoped that nothing would come up in the future forcing me to wear it.


    Now I was back in my costume and far more comfortable. I was the right height, the right¡­ shape, and everything felt a hell of a lot better, even if we weren¡¯t out of the woods yet. I was just plain happier like this.


    Alloy and I basically just had to do the exact same thing we had done to get to the motel in the first place, only in reverse. Now we were heading back to the shop, and it was even more crucial that the others not be seen. It would have been bad enough to deal with cops or other Touched seeing them dressed up like that before. Now¡­ now it would be a lot worse.


    Thankfully, the Ministry was still busy scouring the lake and area along the shore for us. I had no doubt that the search would widen soon enough, but we would be safe in the shop by then, and everyone would be out of the incriminating suits. Or so I kept telling myself throughout the entire very tense affair of oh-so-slowly working our way through the city. We couldn¡¯t afford a single screw-up now. We had to get back there and get rid of all the evidence before anyone, particularly anyone who might work for or talk to the Ministry, saw us.


    Yeah, it was a bit nerve-wracking. But, despite having several near heart attacks on the way there and time and space doing their level best to stretch the whole thing out into an eternity, we finally made it. We were back in the alley behind the shop, and as far as we could tell, no one had seen us. It probably would have been impossible, or at least a lot harder, to do it that way before the curfew was put in place, so I did have to thank the authorities for that. Maybe I would send them a nice card or something.


    Fred opened the back door, giving us a nod. ¡°We had cameras set up the last couple blocks, watching you. There¡¯s no one on your tail. Come on.¡± He stepped aside then, holding the door for us to go in while his eyes carefully and suspiciously scanned the alley despite his own words. Apparently after the mistake he had made with that whole Ashton situation, he was being a lot more careful in general. Or maybe my paranoia was rubbing off on the people around me. Either way, I wasn¡¯t going to object. He was Wren¡¯s guardian, and there would be people who wanted to use her skills for their own ends.


    Speaking of which, I was going to have to give Glitch an answer about that whole situation soon. She had said she would send someone in two weeks, but it had been longer than that without a word. I assumed that had something to do with the whole war escalating thing. Maybe they were busy helping my parents work out nasty new toys to play with or something. Whatever the case, I knew that it was only a temporary delay. Soon enough, she would send someone to get our answer about what Wren was going to do. We¡¯d talked about it of course, and¡­ well, I just hoped we knew what we were doing.


    But right now, I had to focus on this particular situation. We all slipped through the doorway, before Fred closed it after us. I felt a sudden rush of relief wash over me in that moment. Tension that I hadn¡¯t even realized I was holding in myself rushed out in a heavy sigh. We were safe. Well, maybe not completely safe from everything. The Ministry would be looking for whoever had stolen from them. They would be turning over every stone they could, and would go over that van with a fine-toothed comb. Thankfully, there was nothing for them to find. The van wasn¡¯t registered to any of us, or connected to us in any way. Pack had stolen it from a place that rented them out for people to move furniture, and none of us had touched anything in it with our bare hands. We didn¡¯t touch anything and we didn¡¯t leave anything. They wouldn¡¯t find any leads there.


    So, they would look, but they wouldn¡¯t find us. Not right now, anyway. We had time. We had space to breathe and think. And to find out what we¡¯d actually taken from them.


    Of course, first we all had to survive an attack of a completely different kind. The moment we came into the main shop area, I was suddenly hit straight on by a (literal) flying tackle-hug as Wren zoomed across the open space on her wings to crash into me. ¡°You made it!¡±


    Staggering backward, I laughed. It was a laugh of relief, which felt really good right then. So did the hug itself, actually. I closed my arms around the girl and nodded. ¡°Yup, we sure did. In and out just like that.¡± Even as I said those words, my voice cracked a little. I still couldn¡¯t believe it had worked. And despite the fact that most of me was celebrating, there was a small but not insignificant part of me that was convinced that Ministry bad guys were about to crash through the windows while my brother and dad blew the door down and came storming in. It was¡­ not a fun thing to imagine.


    Wren didn¡¯t hug me for long, quickly moving on to the others. As she did, I stepped back and glanced toward Fred. ¡°Good driving back there,¡± I informed him quietly. ¡°Looked like a real wipeout. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll have their suspicions, maybe even enough to be sure once they investigate and don¡¯t find us anywhere. But still, you sold it in that moment.¡±


    Folding his arms, the man gave a short, thoughtful nod. ¡°That¡¯s the important part, isn¡¯t it?¡± he mused. ¡°If they don¡¯t know exactly what happened, it¡¯ll slow down their search. Even if they know you intentionally went into the water, they¡¯ll look for diving equipment and extend the search area to find places further along where you could¡¯ve come up. It¡¯ll confuse them, muddy the waters, so to speak.¡± He gave a soft grunt of amusement at his own joke.


    ¡°Every little bit helps,¡± I confirmed before letting out a breath. ¡°Thanks for being around to help with all this. We definitely couldn¡¯t do it without you. I mean, certainly not without Wren, but you too. I¡­¡± Biting my lip behind the mask and helmet, I hesitated briefly, wondering if I was overstepping. ¡°I know you¡­ you¡¯ve felt shitty about what happened before.¡±


    ¡°It was a stupid mistake,¡± he replied flatly, not looking at me. ¡°I should¡¯ve paid more attention to what that idiot wanted to do with that stuff, to exactly what he was going to steal. He just said he was going to rob a bank and¨Cshit.¡± Shaking his head, he muttered something I didn¡¯t catch under his breath. Then he sighed heavily. ¡°Sorry I treated you the way I did when you showed up. You know, with the whole pointing a gun at you thing. That was out of line. It was¨CI¡¯m glad you found us. Glad you¡­ did all that.¡±


    I knew what he was saying. He was horrified at the very thought that he might have been even indirectly responsible for the death of a child. If we hadn¡¯t found those vials and gotten them back to Blackjack in time¡­ yeah, I didn¡¯t really want to think about it either. I¡¯d never met his daughter, but no kid deserved to die. Especially like that.


    I was spared from having to find some way of responding to that when Pack abruptly spoke up. ¡°Okay, well, it¡¯s been real fun basking in the glory of pulling something like that off, but can we get the next part of this show on the road?¡± She had all of her lizards out on the counter and was brushing her fingers over them tenderly, clearly apologizing for leaving them behind.


    Paige cleared her throat, straightening up with a slight grimace that told me she and Raige were having their own discussion inside her head. ¡°Yeah, we, for two, would like to see what we pulled out of that place and if it was anything useful.¡±


    Her face shifted just a bit before Raige added, ¡°And it had damn well better be after all that.¡±


    Of course, we couldn¡¯t just open up the bags and dig through them just yet. There was way too big of a chance that the Ministry had put tracking devices on their hard drives. Right now, the special bags that Wren had provided were bouncing any potential signal all over the country.  But we weren¡¯t going to take the risk of pulling anything out until there was no chance of us being tracked back here. Which meant that Wren had to take the bags into a specially prepared large metal crate she already had set up in a corner of the room. It was just large enough for her to sit inside with her tools and the stuff we¡¯d grabbed, and did basically the same thing as the bags themselves while giving her room to work. Which meant the rest of us stood around and talked about what we had just done while she got busy. Anxious as we were to see what we had managed to grab, none of us wanted to take any risks. We had gotten through this so far without giving away who we were, and this was no time to start getting reckless. Slow and steady, one bit at a time. We¡¯d done our part, now it was time for Wren to do hers.


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    Okay, that wasn¡¯t even in the least bit accurate. Wren had done more than her part so far. As I¡¯d said to Fred, we would have been pretty screwed without her the entire way through this. The very thought of having to try to get into that place by myself, or even just without her, was basically inconceivable. I¡­ maybe could have done it. At least, I could have dug the tunnel, but damn would it have taken a lot more time. Making everything pink and digging it out like that myself, I probably would have taken another month just to get there. Let alone having to go in alone. I either would¡¯ve gotten caught, or I would¡¯ve had to use my powers openly. Which would¡¯ve let my parents know that Paintball was onto them, and that would have been a whole other¨Cyeah. If I didn¡¯t have these guys here to help, all of them, I would have been screwed.


    Those thoughts and more were running through my head as the others were loudly discussing just how crazy everything in that base had been. Murphy, Roald, and Peyton were going on about the guy they¡¯d had to fight inside one of the other rooms, while the latter girl¡¯s marbles spun wildly around her head. They were clearly as worked up and excited as she was, and possibly feeling a little agitated about the fact that they hadn¡¯t been able to help in that place. If they could feel agitated, I still wasn¡¯t sure how that whole thing worked. But in either case, whether it was the marbles or Peyton¡¯s own subconscious, they were definitely energetic now, spinning around her head like a colorful halo or something.


    Glancing at her phone, Pack gave a soft grunt of annoyance. ¡°Fuck. I gotta go. Getting a bit late and I¡¯ve got a meeting with the boss before school in the morning.¡±


    ¡°A meeting?¡± Amber¡¯s gaze moved that way, clearly worried. And possibly curious.


    With an audible snort, Pack gestured casually. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, babe, the meeting was scheduled yesterday. Just a thing with me and a couple others about a job we need to do this week. A crime job.¡± She was clearly teasing the other girl. ¡°But I promise, it¡¯s the fun sort of crime.¡±


    Sighing, Amber waved a hand around the room. ¡°You realize you¡¯re talking about doing crime in a room full of Star-Touched, right? You¡¯re literally admitting that you¡¯re planning to do something illegal and expect us not to do anything about it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you can do something about it,¡± the other girl slyly replied. ¡°Feel free to show up whenever you get the call and try to stop us. It¡¯d be fun to play cops and robbers. Maybe one of us can tie the oth¨C¡±


    With an almost violent cough and vigorous clearing of her throat, Amber interrupted. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you had to go? Meeting, school, all that?¡±


    Pack was clearly grinning behind that full face-covering mask as she gave a thumbs up. ¡°Yup. But remember, I get to see the information you guys pull out of that stuff too. Don¡¯t cheat me on this. I earned it.¡±


    We all promised to keep her informed about what we found, before the girl headed out with her lizards. Once she was gone, Murphy and Roald noted that they really should get home too. Obviously they couldn¡¯t go by themselves, not with the curfew up. So Fred took them in his sedan, where they would hide under some blankets. He had an ID that identified him as a delivery driver for a local bakery, and if anyone stopped him he would just say that he was on his way to work a bit early to fill in. Assuming they called the place, the supervisor there was a friend of Fred¡¯s and would cover for him. We¡¯d thought about using that cover to get everyone to the motel earlier, but dismissed it both because we didn¡¯t want anyone to take note of Fred being anywhere near the motel right before that whole thing went down, and because hiding all of us was a lot harder than just hiding Murphy and Roald.


    Finally, Peyton reluctantly admitted that she should probably start heading back home too, given her mother would freak out if she didn¡¯t wake up in time to go to school. And besides, she had a test in the morning. So, after also making us promise to let her know what we found, she took off.


    Which left me there with Izzy, Amber, and Paige/Raige while we all waited for Wren to get done identifying and disabling the tracking devices. We talked a bit more, and had a snack of chips and cookies while watching the news for any word about what had happened. The only mention was something about a gang-related car chase that had ended with one of the cars involved driving into the lake. Of course, they identified the chopper as being part of the police force. And hell, for all we knew it really was. I would not have been at the least bit surprised to hear that it was an actual police helicopter that had been chasing us with that light. It gave them the perfect cover, anyway. And it wasn¡¯t like my family having those sort of contacts and resources would be surprising.


    Eventually, Fred returned and whistled long and low while shaking his head as he saw what we were watching. ¡°These people really have their fingers dug into fucking everything in this city, don¡¯t they? They didn¡¯t have any warning that you were going to be in there, and they still just snapped their fingers and summoned up a helicopter to chase after you. And just like that, it was a police chopper. Now they get to control the whole damn narrative. It¡¯s just that quick, that easy. They say the word and the media reports what they¡¯re told to.¡±


    ¡°Helps when they have people in the police and the media,¡± I pointed out quietly. ¡°Plus, we didn¡¯t exactly give the news much of a reason to doubt that story. It makes sense that what happened right there would be a gang fight. And that it would disappear pretty quick. I mean, look at what¡¯s happening in the rest of the city. As far as everyone else is concerned, it was just one more little event. Barely even worth reporting on, in the grand scheme of things.¡±


    Fred has started to say something, but before he could, the crate slid open and Wren emerged.  Her always-wild blond hair was sticking out in even more directions than normal, and she gave herself a shake, almost like a dog. Then she flashed us a broad smile and held up a plastic bag full of what looked like the remains of several small computer chips. They had been smashed into lots of tiny pieces. ¡°All good now,¡± she informed brightly. ¡°They can¡¯t track these things anymore, and the last signal they got made it look like they were in Oklahoma. And there weren¡¯t any tracking devices on the filters or papers, just the hard drives. It¡¯s safe to look at the stuff now. Oooh, cookies!¡± With that, her wings extended and she literally flew over to the counter to grab a chocolate chip treat in each hand before smooshing them together into her mouth. ¡°Mmmphh. Ur ruv oorrkiesh.¡±


    ¡°Wren, don¡¯t talk with your mouth full,¡± Fred advised. ¡°And try to stick to one cookie at a time, kid.¡± Even as he said that, the man was shaking his head as he poured a glass of milk for her and handed it over, smiling as she drank greedily. ¡°Good job though.¡±


    Reaching down to pick up the bag of broken tracking devices she had dropped in her rush, I examined it and smiled. ¡°Definitely a good job. I¡¯m pretty sure the Ministry is pissed off right now.¡± I had to pause then, imagining my parents being angry. It made me feel weird in my stomach, but I shook that off. Now really wasn¡¯t the time to focus on that. We had to look through that stuff. It was getting pretty late, but still. I couldn¡¯t leave yet. Not when we knew that Irelyn and Trivial were in some sort of horrible danger. There wasn¡¯t time to waste.


    So, Amber, Izzy, and I took the papers and split them up to look through while Paige plugged herself into one hard drive after another. There was a lot of information here, too much to really take in with the time we had. Mostly we were just looking for the addresses of Pittman¡¯s labs at the moment. There would be time later to take a full inventory of all the information once we had dealt with the most pressing matter.


    So, I was simply scanning through pages, looking for certain words like Pittman himself, or laboratory, or robots, biolems, anything about biological experimentation, and so on. I saw several things that made me want to go back and read more, but not right at the moment. Pittman. I had to focus on Pittman.


    Finally, after a few minutes of that, Amber abruptly spoke up. ¡°Hang on, wait, I think I¡¯ve got something.¡± As we all turned it to look that way, she held up a stapled-together stack of papers, flipped to somewhere in the middle. ¡°Right here, it looks like an inventory of places where they could set up a lab to work on something called Project Carpenter, whatever that is.¡±


    ¡°At least it¡¯s not Project Owl,¡± I murmured before adding, ¡°I take it the list has some interesting places?¡±


    ¡°You could say that,¡± she replied before pointing to one part of the page. ¡°This part here, there¡¯s four addresses and  it says, ¡®Acquired from B.P. Equipment on-site, inventory needed.¡¯ B.P. That could be¨C¡±


    ¡°Benjamin Pittman,¡± Paige interrupted. ¡°That would make sense. We¡¯ve got something here too. It¡¯s not the addresses, but I think it¡¯s codes to get through the doors. They changed the locks, obviously.¡±


    ¡°You guys aren¡¯t going out there now, are you?¡± That was Fred, frowning. ¡°It¡¯s already late.¡±


    ¡°And as soon as they find out what we stole,¡± I pointed out, ¡°they¡¯ll start locking things down. They might not know exactly what we were after, but I don¡¯t want to take that chance.¡± Belatedly, I grimaced to myself. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t want to speak for any of you¨C¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Amber interrupted, ¡°you¡¯re right, we need to get over there while we can. They¡¯ll be busy scouring that base and van for any clues, or trying to track us by the lake.¡±


    The others nodded in agreement, Raige taking the time to point out that Irelyn needed help right now. So, I exhaled. ¡°Right, okay then. Hope you guys don¡¯t mind putting those suits back on just in case there are cameras in those places.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got one more job to do tonight.¡±

 Dig In 22-14

    Right, so we weren¡¯t quite done for the night yet. At least, some of us weren¡¯t. Pack, Alloy, Murphy, and Roald might¡¯ve gone home, but Amber, Izzy, and I were still going to go along with Paige and Raige to check out those secret labs. Part of me felt a little worried about going out again this soon, but it really was the best time. The Ministry would be occupied trying to figure out what the hell had just happened to them and who was responsible. They certainly wouldn¡¯t be reinforcing these other places. Not yet, anyway. They might have been talking about refurbishing Pittman¡¯s labs for other things, but I was pretty sure that that would be one of the furthest things from their minds right now. Later, of course, it would become a problem. Especially once they decided that they needed to put a heavier security on all of their properties. It would become a hell of a lot harder to get in those places and take what we needed then. That was why we needed to go tonight, while they were still reeling and distracted.


    I was telling myself all of that while putting the hated stuffed bra back on along with the suit itself. Seriously, I did not like doing this. But if we went in there as ourselves and found out too late that the Ministry had put up cameras, we would be screwed. I was going to go ahead and assume my parents could look at their mall base being invaded and then Pittman¡¯s old labs being searched a couple hours later and put two and two together.


    So, we were suited up once more as we crouched in an alley across the street from what looked like an old dive bar that hadn¡¯t been open for ages. It was sandwiched between a pawn shop and a tiny Chinese restaurant. From what we had been able to put together, the last time the bar was open was over ten years earlier. Pittman had bought it and used the place as one of his smaller labs. Which, given there was an entire basement area beneath the shop, made it possible that there was a hidden area somewhere in there that my family¡¯s people hadn¡¯t found.


    Sure, it wasn¡¯t likely that we¡¯d get super-lucky with the first place we checked. Hell, there was a good chance that we wouldn¡¯t find anything at all in any of these places. The Ministry had to have gone over them pretty thoroughly. But we had to try, and trying meant starting somewhere. So, this seemed like as good of an option as any.


    The area we were in wasn¡¯t exactly the best part of town, to put it mildly. Even with the curfew, there were still some people out walking in small groups. Probably because the cops didn¡¯t patrol here that often. The place wasn¡¯t rich enough to have constant security, and it wasn¡¯t right in the middle of disputed gang territory. Not those sort of gangs anyway. There were just a lot of poor people around, and homeless, and¡­ yeah. It wasn¡¯t a good neighborhood.


    Still, eventually the way was clear. There was no one in sight at the moment, after a couple very clearly drunk guys managed to find their keys and stumble into an apartment a few doors down. We exchanged glances before collectively nodding. With one more quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, we darted from the alley and crossed the street to the doorway of the old bar. Paige was in front, and she ignored the visible deadbolt, instead turning to what looked like one of those intercom systems on the front of apartment buildings where you hit the button to contact one of the places inside so they could buzz you in. Despite being for a single place, there were about twenty buttons spread across the thing, all of them unlabeled. Paige didn¡¯t hesitate at all, her fingers dancing across the console to put in the eight digit code. There was an immediate corresponding beep, and then a click as the door opened. She gave the rest of us a brief look, her expression unreadable under the mask. With a muttered reminder to be careful, she opened the door the rest of the way, and we all slipped inside.


    Yeah, this had definitely been a bar at one point, though it was clear that almost everything of value had been taken out of it. The only things left were the booths along one side and the bar itself. The shelves were bare, there were no tables or chairs, and I could see a spot where there had clearly been a jukebox at one point. It was all gone now. It had been emptied out, either by Pittman himself, or the Ministry, or people who managed to break in somehow before the place was secured. Whatever it was, that didn¡¯t matter. We didn¡¯t care about any of that stuff. We were there for far more important things than a jukebox or some random alcohol.


    Quickly, we scanned the room, but couldn¡¯t see any cameras. It was possible the Ministry didn¡¯t have any set up here yet, given they would have taken out everything they could find in this place and didn¡¯t have any reason to keep it under constant surveillance. Not this long after Pittman had been sent to Breakwater. As far as they would be concerned, he had no way of getting out of there, so why spend the effort and resources to watch over his random properties constantly years after he had been dealt with? They were talking about converting his spaces to new labs, but until that happened, they probably didn¡¯t care too much. Not yet, anyway. Which, again, was why we needed to do this right now.


    It didn¡¯t take long to find the door to the basement, and we carefully descended the cement stairs while keeping our eyes open for cameras or traps. But the place was empty. We got down there to find a wide-open space, like an unfinished basement in a house. It was all cement, with a heavy sink in one corner, and clear markings where there had once been equipment. But now all of it was gone. There was nothing in here. At least, not that we could easily see.


    ¡°We should spread out,¡± Amber murmured, ¡°check for any hidden doors or anything.¡±


    Raige, who had apparently taken control of Paige¡¯s body in that moment, snarled, ¡°If we have to check the quick way by knocking down some of these walls, so be it.¡±


    We scoured every wall, even going over the floor for trapdoors. And yes, we put a couple small holes in the walls where there might be something. We even found one promising bit, a hidden space in one corner. But it turned out to just be the size of a closet (one in a normal house, not mine), and held little more than some random science equipment and tools, like scalpels and flasks. There might have been something useful within that stuff, but it wasn¡¯t what we were looking for. We took some of it in a bag, looking around the place for another minute or so, then made our way out. This was our first try, and it was basically a bust. Which wasn¡¯t surprising or anything, but still. A part of me had hoped that we would get lucky.


    At least we had several more options to go. So, we made our way out, returned to the alley, and headed for the next spot. All these labs were close enough together, in this part of town, that we could get there by moving through alleys, keeping our heads down, and watching out for anyone. Which meant I didn¡¯t have to keep changing back into my Paintball costume to play lookout. Pittman had probably intentionally kept his places close enough to quickly move back and forth between. Far enough apart that they all wouldn¡¯t be found if one was (if you didn¡¯t have the addresses already), but close enough that he could walk to any of them within about fifteen minutes.


    Or maybe I was overthinking it, and he chose these places because it was an area he could afford to buy property in, and set up a shop without attracting a lot of attention.


    The second place we checked looked like it had once been a clothing shop. There were still metal racks sitting around, but that was about it. We didn¡¯t even find any secret rooms in that one, no matter how much we searched. It was even more of a dead end than the first place.


    The third place we checked, on the other hand, didn¡¯t look like it had been anything of note before. It was just a smallish, one-story building sitting in one corner of a parking lot near a much larger pharmacy and medical supply center, the sort of place you would drive past your entire life without really noticing. At most, you might idly wonder what the place was as you drove past, then forget about it immediately as soon as you turned the corner. The building was just there, amounting to little more than scenery in the neighborhood.


    After once more taking the time to make sure the coast was clear, we made our way over there and into the building, using the code to unlock the door. Inside, the place was a maze of small offices, with a waiting room out front. It looked like this had once been a doctor¡¯s office or something. Which made sense given the nearby pharmacy. And it was obvious why setting up in a place like this would be good for someone like Pittman, who would need ready access to a lot of medical stuff in order to build his bodies. This place was looking somewhat promising. But on the other hand, it also meant that the Ministry would have gone over everything very thoroughly too. We still had to get lucky and hope that they hadn¡¯t taken everything useful in here.


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    A search through the main floor revealed little of consequence. A few empty pill bottles, some dusty medical tools that hadn¡¯t been taken lying here or there, that sort of thing. Most of it was picked clean by one group or another. But just as I was starting to think this would be a dead end as well, Raige kicked open a supply closet, and a thorough search revealed a trapdoor in the floor under the carpet. The four of us (five, actually, given Paige and Raige both counted) exchanged looks. Then I went first, struggling very slightly with my fake chest (and yes, I did mutter and curse the entire time about it) before climbing down the ladder to the room below.


    Upon arriving in the room below, the place was filled with a steady humming sound. It was also pitch-dark. But I was able to run my hand along the nearby wall and find a light switch, which I flipped up. As I did so, a long row of overhead lights began to turn on one after another, starting almost directly above me and leading down the length of what turned out to be a room roughly the size of a basketball court.


    As the others joined me, we could immediately tell that this place was different. It was readily apparent that the Ministry had not found that secret door. It reminded me a little bit of Wren¡¯s lab for the fact that there were tables along the room full of tools and random bits of machinery. But there were also large floor to ceiling freezers all along both walls to either side of us. Those were the source of the humming sound that filled the room. As I looked at them, I could see a clipboard hanging next to each door. With a glance to the others, I walked toward the nearest and carefully pulled the board up to look at it. There were notes there, listing what appeared to be names, dates, ethnicities, diseases, and causes of death. There were two dates actually. One generally between fifteen and forty years earlier than the second.


    I wasn¡¯t dumb. I knew what this was. My eyes selected to the freezer then to the clipboard and I grimaced while stepping away. ¡°Bodies,¡± I announced. ¡°He¡¯s got dead bodies in all these freezers. Or parts of them, I don¡¯t know. Either way, it looks like this is the place where he was doing a lot of his dissection to figure out how to make new bodies or whatever.¡±


    Sounding a bit sick, Izzy weakly noted, ¡°I guess that means we¡¯re in the right place? I mean¡­ not really the right place, but¡­¡± She trailed off, shaking her head.


    ¡°Yeah, doesn¡¯t feel like a place we really want to be,¡± I agreed, ¡°But it¡¯s probably the best shot we¡¯ve got. So let¡¯s look around.¡± Even as I said that, my eyes were widening. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta check all these freezers, don¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Check the clipboards,¡± Paige advised, already moving to the opposite side of the room to start working her way down the line there. "See if you can find any that don¡¯t sound like a person who was alive before.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll work on that,¡± Amber put in before nudging Izzy. ¡°You should check the tables for anything useful. We still need one of those orbs.¡±


    We all knew what she was doing, making it so Izzy didn¡¯t have to go down the row of freezers and potentially have to open some of them to check inside. And I was glad for that. Izzy had been through more than enough emotional turmoil tonight. She didn¡¯t need to deal with¡­ that. I wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled about doing it myself, obviously, but still. She deserved a break.


    So, we searched down at the line of freezers on either side. Unfortunately, none of the clipboards said anything about a newly built body or anything like that. They all listed birth and death dates as well as causes. Some of them had the information crossed off in red ink, followed by a third date and either a checkmark or the word ¡®disposed.¡¯ My best guess was that that meant he had either used that body or discarded it.


    This whole situation was incredibly morbid, to say the least. And I was desperately hoping that we wouldn¡¯t have to actually open the freezers. But I was starting to worry that we wouldn¡¯t have another choice. We couldn¡¯t risk walking away from this place without checking if there was the slightest chance he had simply stuffed one of his prototype biolem bodies inside one of them. And it was looking more and more like we wouldn¡¯t find one conveniently labeled as such.


    We started with the freezers that were labeled as the bodies having been used, of course. Amber and I both stood in front of one, looking at the clipboard announcing that the body had been ¡®disposed¡¯ about six years earlier. Exchanging glances, the two of us sighed heavily together, then reached out to grab the heavy metal bar on the door. Neither of us wanted to do it alone. With a pair of grunts, we hauled the door open, bracing ourselves for¡­


    Nothing. There was nothing in that freezer, just as the clipboard had promised. Well, almost nothing. The space within the freezer was basically coffin-sized (which just made the whole thing even worse, and the walls were covered in blood and¡­ and probably other body stuff that I really didn¡¯t want to think about. It also smelled so bad that I instantly recoiled and gagged against the mask, barely keeping my stomach under control. Amber was in much the same boat, but managed to shove the door shut first.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you¨Cugh, love being a superhero?¡± she asked while half-doubled over and clearly doing her level best not to lose her dinner.


    Grimacing, I gave a short nod, breathing heavily. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s fantastic. Nothing but glory and sunshine for this job.¡± Even as I said that, my eyes were scanning the row of freezers. Oh god. If an empty one smelled that bad, how was it going to be when we had to open one with an actual dead body in it? The freezers¨Cdamn it, this was not my idea of a good time.


    Unlike Amber and me, Paige¨Cno wait, that was Raige¨C was on the other side of the room opening one door after another, looking inside before muttering a curse, and moving on. Somehow that made me feel worse, like I was making such a big deal out of this while she was just fine with it. She was looking for a body she could use, a body she could live in. And here I was just being a baby about smelling some¨Cokay yeah it was still awful. But still.


    Before I could think too much more about that, Izzy abruptly called out from the far end of the room where she had been sorting through a pile of stuff in a large crate there. ¡°Hey! Hey, I think I¨Clook.¡± She turned as the rest of us looked that way, holding up something in one hand. It was a small metal ball about¨Coh.


    Raige was there in a second, literally shoving one of the other tables out of the way and sending a small pile of tools crashing to the floor in the process. ¡°Wait, is that¨Choly fuck, kid, I could kiss you right now.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was taking the orb from Izzy¡¯s hand. ¡°This is¨Cthis is it. I mean it¡¯s not perfect, it¡¯s not the most advanced version, but I can definitely use it.¡±


    Amber and I arrived then, looking at the thing. Just like the one I had seen back in the warehouse when Paige cut open that biolem¡¯s head, the orb was baseball-sized and had a series of various-colored flashing lights along it. I could see a collection of short, maybe three-inch wires sticking out of the bottom, which probably extended when the orb was¡­ inserted. I remembered the other one had had those wires leading down through the body to control various parts.


    ¡°So you can use that?¡± Amber asked, giving the thing a long look.


    Shifting just a bit as she stared down at it, Raige gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah, get me a body to plug it into and we¡¯re in business. But this is a great start, pipsqueak.¡± She reached out to give Izzy a light punch in the shoulder.


    ¡°Probably shouldn¡¯t call her that.¡± That was Paige, clearly. ¡°I think she¡¯s earned a better name than pipsqueak.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was clearly examining the ball in her hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s a term of affection,¡± Raige announced. ¡°Anyway, this looks like the start of home sweet home. Now let¡¯s find an actual¨C¡±


    ¡°Hey, look at this.¡± Amber, who had stepped away to the other side of the table where Izzy had found the orb, put her hand against the wall. ¡°This bit here looks a little¨C¡± Her hand pushed hard against that bit of wall, and it abruptly shoved inward. Hidden door. There was a hidden door in this already-hidden room. Whatever was in there, Pittman definitely didn¡¯t want anyone to find it.


    One by one, we slipped through that hidden door, and found ourselves in a much smaller room. This one was barely large enough for the four of us to stand in along with the large metal tube taking up most of the space. It was about four feet across and six feet high, and had a large computer console next to it that seemed to be displaying a bunch of information that I couldn¡¯t even keep track of. But the gist I got from it was that this might be exactly what we were looking for.


    Sure enough, Paige smiled. ¡°This is it. This is what we need.¡±


    Her face shifted then, as Raige spoke. ¡°Could uhh, could the rest of you wait outside for a minute, huh?¡± I could tell she felt a little awkward, which was strange to see coming from her. ¡°This bit¡¯s a little personal. Like changing clothes.¡±


    Amber, Izzy, and I exchanged glances before collectively shrugging. Then we moved back to the larger room, stepping away while talking a bit to each other about what was going on. Not that we had very productive things to say. We were all exhausted by this point. All I wanted to do was go back home and sleep. Especially knowing that I was going to have to get up in a few hours and go to school if I didn¡¯t want my parents to suspect anything. And now it was even more crucial that they didn¡¯t.


    Eventually, Paige stepped out of the room. She grimaced a bit when we looked that way.


    ¡°You okay?¡± Amber asked. ¡°I mean, are you¡­ you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m me. Just me,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°We made the transfer, but uh, we¡¯ve got a umm, maybe a slight¡­ uncomfortable¡­ a uhh, issue with¨C¡±


    ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯ll show ¡®em!¡± A voice called from in the room. Something about it made me blink. Something very famili¨C


    And then Raige stepped into view in her new body. Only she didn¡¯t look like Paige. And she certainly didn¡¯t look like any random person.


    The hair was different, long on both sides rather than short on one, and without the dyed tips. But other than that, her new body¡­ was me.

 Dig In 22-15

    ¡°Ohhhh no. Oh no, no, no. Nope, no.¡± Those words and more filled the air, sounding dull with shock and disbelief. It took me a moment to realize that I was the one saying them, even as I took several reflexive steps back. My head was shaking almost violently. In between words, I was making a disbelieving, distressed sound in the back of my throat. It sounded vaguely like a low whine, and also possibly like an airplane plummeting toward the ground. Which was probably a pretty decent metaphor when it came to what my brain was doing at that moment.


    Amber and Izzy were just staring in shocked silence, their body language making it clear that they had no idea how to respond to what we were looking at. Not that I would have heard it if they did say something, most likely. Not through the ringing in my ears that seemed to get louder the longer I stood there and stared at¡­ at¡­ me. Not me. Raige. Raige who now looked like me. Like a version of me who was wearing a simple gray sweatsuit. What¨Chow was that¨Cwhy would¨Cwhat¨C My brain kept looping back in on itself. Every time I thought I was ready to say something besides no, it came right back around to that same blank, confused denial. I had absolutely no idea how to react to this, inwardly or outwardly.


    Clearing my¨Cher throat, Raige spoke up with my voice again while looking straight at me (with my eyes). ¡°So, I completely understand that this is probably a lot to take in. You know, us being new twins and all. But hey, we accomplished the mission. I have an orb and a body.¡±


    ¡°A bo¨Cyou have my body!¡± I found myself blurting, a flush rising to my face under the mask. ¡°You look like me. I mean it, you look identical to me. I mean¨Cwhat¨Chow¨Cwhat?¡± It was all I could do to stop those last few words from turning into another inarticulate whine.


    ¡°It¡¯s the only body we can find,¡± Paige gently put in. ¡°The only biolem that was still sitting around waiting for our father to do something with.¡±


    Amber was the first to finally find her voice after that. ¡°Why¡­ the hell would your father have a biolem who looks like Cassidy?¡± She demanded in a hissed tone. ¡°What was he playing at?¡±


    ¡°He was probably planning on replacing her.¡± That was Izzy, speaking quietly as she looked back and forth between the updated Raige and me. ¡°You know, embed a fake as a spy. Or maybe he thought they might work with him if he offered to download your brain into a biolem and make you immortal? Or¨C¡± Her head shook as she managed a weak, ¡°I dunno. I dunno, it¡¯s just¡ªobviously a replacement, right? Or, I mean¨C¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± I put in. My voice sounded a bit hollow even through the changer. Really, was it ironic that Raige sounded more like me right now than I did? Because this was just¡­ I had no idea how to¡­ or what was¡­ ugh. My brain was looping back in on itself again, which wasn¡¯t helpful.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure,¡± Paige hesitantly offered, ¡°but I think she¡¯s right.¡± Her head nodded toward Izzy. ¡°I think one of his plans involved either replacing Cassidy or offering to make you and your family part of¡­ the system in exchange for funding at one point. This was like a proof of concept or something. He had DNA samples from somewhere. I swear I don¡¯t know where he got them. But they were in there, in that machine that was holding this¡­ body. They grew it just like this, and it¡¯s been sitting there growing and being groomed this whole time with no¨Cuh, brain or personality. Just an empty body.¡±


    ¡°From DNA,¡± I found myself murmuring, barely resisting the urge to scream it. ¡°He had my DNA. That¡¯s how he¨Chow this thing looks like me still. Even though he must have built it a while ago. Wait, you said it aged normally? Did he just create it at¨CI guess that makes¡­¡± I trailed off before I could finish saying that it made sense, because none of this made sense to me. I felt like I was in the middle of a crazy fever dream or something.


    ¡°He would have created the body at the age you were when he built it,¡± Paige slowly remarked. ¡°So it makes sense that it would be the same age you are now. It¡¯s just been sitting here, being automatically cared for just in case he decided to come back to it or¡­ something. Once he gave up on working with your parents, he probably kept it around in case there was an opportunity to¡­ to replace you.¡± She spoke the last few words quietly, wincing.


    Putting both hands against my forehead, I breathed in and out a few times. Hearing that Pittman had been planning to replace me with a copy, who would probably have ended up doing terrible things to my family, was a lot to take in. Even considering the fact that it was coming from a guy who had already demonstrably planned to kill me. I was starting to think that I didn¡¯t come out ahead in very many of Pittman¡¯s plans. It was almost like he had some sort of grudge against me personally instead of just my family. Was he pissed because I had made friends with Paige? Was that it? I had no idea, but this whole thing was starting to feel personal.


    Shaking that off, I raised myself before taking a few steps that way. Leaning in close to stare into my duplicate body¡¯s eyes, I slowly scanned down my¨Cher face, taking in every possible detail. It was me. Well, obviously a bit different with the longer, undyed hair, but still me. Staring into the face was like looking into a mirror. Every bit of her was just me. She was me, from top to bottom.


    ¡°It was lying facedown in the machine,¡± Paige informed us. ¡°And Raige was¡­ excited. We didn¡¯t really look at it until after she was plugged in. I knew there was something familiar, but¨C¡± She cut herself off, sighing a little. ¡°Like she said, we know it¡¯s a lot to take in. But¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my body,¡± Raige interrupted. ¡°The only one there is, the only one we¡¯ve got. So it¡¯s the one we have to use. Unless you¡¯re going to try to go back on the deal.¡± Her tone turned slightly dangerous, though still mostly understanding, as she squinted at me. As my own eyes squinted at me. ¡°You know, the one where I help in exchange for this? Because if this is too much and you¡¯d rather go back to the old status quo where I fight every single one of you¡­¡± It wasn¡¯t quite a threat. Well, It might have sounded like that to an outside observer, but I could hear the worry and frustration in her voice, the fear. She was afraid that we would stab her in the back just like Pittman had. Because of course she was. That was how her father had treated her, how he¡¯d treated both her and Paige. So why wouldn¡¯t she assume the worst from other people?


    Taking a breath before letting it out, I shook my head firmly. ¡°No one¡¯s saying anything like that. Just¨Cjust give me a second.¡± I had to move away from her, taking a few steps the other way before turning my back to my new duplicate body. My hands covered my face and I gave a long, slow exhale. A lot to take in? That was basically the understatement of the century. I hadn¡¯t even begun to start thinking my way through all of the ramifications of this, let alone the simple question of what we were going to do with having someone who looked just like me. Not just in the wider city, but simply around everyone else on the team who didn¡¯t know who I was.


    Actually, that was probably the best question of all. Taking another breath, I turned back that way. ¡°What are we going to say to the others? They¡¯ll want to know if we found a new body for Raige, and I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ll be a bit interested in seeing it.¡±


    The girl in question was still squinting at me. Which, again, was weird to see coming from what was essentially myself. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re not gonna start a big fuss over it?  You¡¯re going to let me keep the body?¡±


    My mouth opened to say something, before I paused and held up a hand to take a moment. I had to think about my next words briefly. ¡°I¡­ that was the deal. You would get a body of your own. I didn¡¯t question it when we thought it would look like Paige, or like some random person. It wouldn¡¯t be fair to¡ªit¡¯s weird, yeah. Totally fucking weird. No question about that. But no matter what it looks like, it¡¯s your body, not mine. It¡¯s my appearance, my face, my¨Cit makes me feel funny. But I¡¯m not going to say you can¡¯t use it, just because it looks like me. But bear with me a little bit, okay? It¡¯s a lot to deal with. I can¡¯t¨Coh jeez, it really looks like me. You. You really look like me.¡± I was looking it¨Cher up and down once more. It was still surprising, no matter how many times I closed my eyes, told myself what I was going to see, then opened them again. Some part of me kept thinking that it would look different the next time I opened up my eyes. But it never did. She always looked identical to me. That wasn¡¯t going to change. I just had to deal with that and move on. Which meant figuring out what to do about it as far as everyone else was concerned.


    Amber stepped closer as well, hesitantly lifting a hand to touch the long hair of my duplicate. ¡°Damn,¡± she murmured, ¡°They really got down to the smallest detail, didn¡¯t they? I mean, of your¨Cyeah.¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Grimacing visibly, Raige brushed the other girl¡¯s arm away from her. ¡°As much as I love everyone complimenting Bastard Dad¡¯s work, we should probably get down to business. Cuz if Cass over there is really gonna let this go without raising a fuss, then she¡¯s right. We probably do need to explain why I look like this.¡±


    She was right, of course, we did need to explain that. A part of me was wondering just what the odds were that we would¡¯ve just happened to only come here with the people who already knew my identity. If Peyton had come with us, or Pack? Yeah, this whole thing would be even more awkward.


    ¡°I could tell them the truth,¡± I murmured under my breath, barely able to put voice to the thought. ¡°I could tell them who I really am, and we could explain¡­ you know, all of it. They already know about the Ministry and all that. It¡¯s just one more step or two for the rest of it.¡±


    ¡°Pretty big steps,¡± Amber pointed out. ¡°Are you really ready to tell Pack, Wren, Fred, Peyton, Murphy, and Roald who you really are and what your connection to all this is?¡±


    ¡°You mean do I trust Pack to keep it to herself?¡± I replied flatly, meeting her gaze. ¡°I mean, she is a thief in the long run. She still works for Blackjack, who is still linked to my parents. She works for him, and he works for them. Well, maybe not for, but you know. He follows instructions. He pays his taxes. He just¨C¡± Stopping myself, I sighed. ¡°That is the real question, isn¡¯t it? Not to mention Fred. Sure, he¡¯s really learned a lot, but he screwed up once and nearly got Blackjack¡¯s daughter killed for it. He¡¯s grown, but do we know for sure he¡¯d never make a mistake like that again? Not even a mistake like that, necessarily. Do we trust them to never use my identity for their own ends, or to even mess up and accidentally reveal it?¡±


    After getting all that out, I gave a heavy sigh before focusing on Amber once more. ¡°They already know about the Ministry, and about what we know. They know we were the ones who broke into that base tonight. We¡¯re already all in this together. And if they wanted, or just messed up, we¡¯d already be completely screwed. I trusted them this far. I trusted them with it this far. I¡¯ve taken this many steps out over the ledge, and now I feel like one of those cartoon characters who¡¯ll fall if I look down and see how far up I am. So you tell me, do you trust Pack not to give up my identity to her boss?¡±


    There was only the slightest hesitation as Amber ran the question through her mind before giving a short nod. ¡°I¡­ I know she likes you. I mean, she thinks you¡¯re a lot different than you are, but she still likes you. And I don¡¯t think she would reveal your secret to anyone. Not for money or anything else. She talks a big game about being a bad guy, and sure, she still steals stuff. But she¡¯s loyal to her friends. She¡¯s loyal to Blackjack because he¡¯s helped her out so much, and I think she¡¯d be loyal to you too. So yeah, I think you can trust her with this.¡±


    Before I could say anything to that, Raige cleared her throat. ¡°Sure, that¡¯s sweet and all. Very touching. But you know you might not have to, right?¡± As we all looked at her, she rolled her eyes. Which gave me a good idea of what it looked like when I did that. ¡°Yeah, I look like her. But you people do know that disguises exist, right? Fuck, I already have long hair instead of having it short on one side. Give me some blonde hair dye, some colored contacts, some glasses, let me dress differently, whatever. And that¡¯s before you get into the Touched-Tech stuff that could change my appearance even more drastically. Sure, it¡¯s not exactly sitting on the shelves of Wal-Mart, but it¡¯s not impossible to get either. They don¡¯t have to know we look identical now, that¡¯s all I¡¯m saying. Trust your buddies or don¡¯t, but you don¡¯t need to let me looking like this force you into making a decision before you¡¯re ready, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Glancing away for a moment as thoughts ran through my mind, I finally gave a nod and looked back that way. ¡°You¡¯re right, there are ways to disguise you. Besides, it¡¯s not like my picture is all over the news constantly. Between the media¡¯s disappointment that I don¡¯t take after my mom, and my parents protecting me, most of the general public can¡¯t instantly pick me out of a crowd. Add in a few changes like different hair and all that stuff and¡­ yeah, I guess it would work. Hell, it¡¯s not like any of them have any reason to know what the real me looks like anyway. I¡¯ve never met them as myself.¡±


    While everyone else exchanged looks, I went on. ¡°The point is, maybe it is time to tell the others the truth about me. But Raige is right,  it¡¯s probably a bad idea to let something like this force us¨C force me into it. I¡¯m going to tell them. I want to tell them all of it, the full truth. They¡¯ve definitely earned it. But I want to do it because I decided it was the right time and place, not because I didn¡¯t have any choice. I just¨CI want to tell them when it¡¯s right. Soon. But maybe all separately. Peyton first. She¡¯s earned that, she¡¯s supposed to be my¨Cmy partner and all that. My¨CI need to tell her. And I will.¡±


    Realizing I was rambling a bit, I coughed. ¡°Anyway, we should focus on this right now.¡± My hands gestured toward Raige. ¡°We need to make her look different before we go back to Wren¡¯s. Who, for the record, is probably already wondering what¡¯s going on with us.¡±


    ¡°Um, it¡¯s not like there¡¯s a store open right now,¡± Amber pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the night and there¡¯s a curfew. So how are we supposed to find hair dye and stuff like that at this hour?¡± She hesitated very slightly before adding a weak, ¡°We¡¯re not gonna steal it, are we?¡±


    ¡°If we did break in somewhere,¡± I replied, ¡°we¡¯d be subtle about it and we¡¯d leave money. I know it¡¯s not perfect, but¡­¡± With a heavy sigh, I shook my head. ¡°Lots of ways it¡¯s not perfect. But what choice do we have? You¡¯re right, there¡¯s no stores open that we can use.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to steal anything.¡± That was Izzy. ¡°And we don¡¯t have to buy it.¡± She reached into her bag, pulling out, of all things, three bottles of hair dye in various shades, and several different styles of glasses. She also had three different tee-shirts in varying sizes, and a few different pairs of pants, also different sizes. When everyone stared at her, she squirmed under the attention. ¡°I um, I didn¡¯t know if the body we found would have clothes, or what it would look like. I just thought if it looked¨CI mean if she looked too noticeable or if we needed to change her appearance for some reason. Or¨C I mean it¡¯s not like I didn¡¯t have plenty of money for it. So I just¨C¡±


    ¡°Izzy, you¡¯re a genius,¡± I interrupted. ¡°A straight-up genius. I can¡¯t believe none of the rest of us even thought about that. Of course disguising the body was a good idea, no matter what it looked like.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s brilliant and all. Congratulations,¡± Raige put in. ¡°Now can we get down to business, please? Because I¡¯d like to take this body for a spin, not stand here all day talking about it. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve all forgotten or something but this is my first time having a physical body all to myself, without somebody backseat walking.¡± She added that with a pointed glance toward Paige. ¡°Need to run around the block, do some flips, get in a fistfight, really put this body through its paces.¡±


    Grimacing at her choice of words, I managed a weak, ¡°Please don¡¯t get into a fistfight anytime soon, okay? Not just because¨Cwell¡­ that looks like me and it¡¯d be weird, but also because we¡¯re trying not to attract attention.¡±


    I was treated to the sight and sound of what looked like my own body scoffing at me. Raige waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Yeah, yeah, no running off and punching the first person I see. It was a figure of speech, or whatever. The point is, I just want to get it out there and test this body for real. You don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like being all cooped up and having to share what little control you have with someone else.¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks,¡± Paige mumbled before focusing. ¡°She¡¯s right though. I mean, about all of it. She deserves to stretch her legs, even just a little bit. Not to mention, we don¡¯t know how long we might have before someone in the Ministry thinks to start checking these places. Sure, it¡¯s not super-likely anytime soon, but we probably shouldn¡¯t push our luck. So can we get started?¡±


    ¡°Hang on,¡± I interrupted, biting my lip before stepping back over there. I had to look at myself again. My hands rose to settle on my¨Cher shoulders, as I simply stared, taking it all in. It was still so weird to see my own body standing there like that. It made a funny feeling rise up in my stomach. Not revulsion or disgust or anything bad like that. Just¡­ a funny feeling. It was hard to describe. Standing there, I looked myself¨Cno, I looked Raige up and down once more. This was the biolem body that would have taken my place in my family, that would have secretly spied on my parents and probably ended up doing something horrible. Actually, probably more than one horrible thing. It was¨Cyeah, it was a lot to take in, to say the least. It was going to take a lot more time than these few seconds for me to adjust to the idea that there was someone who looked identical to me, even if we were going to make her look slightly different now. This was a pretty huge thing.


    So, after a moment of that, I released my new twin and stepped away. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get to it. Let¡¯s make a version of you who looks at least somewhat different than me.¡±


    We got to work on that pretty quick. The hair dye was one of the new kinds that sprayed in, only affecting hair even if you got it on something else. Well, it affected other things, but it was really easy to wipe off if that thing wasn¡¯t hair. Raige chose the blonde color, and soon there was what amounted to a blonde me standing there in front of us. She changed out of the sweatsuit, switching it for a simple red tee-shirt and jeans that mostly fit, then searched through the glasses until she managed to find a pair she didn¡¯t completely hate. They were thin metal frames.


    ¡°So, how do I look?¡± she finally asked while standing in front of us.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say we definitely need to do more to change you before anyone who actually knows me sees you,¡± I managed with a hesitant shrug. ¡°But¡­ you know, pretty good other than that.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Giving us all a thumbs up, Raige started to walk around us toward the ladder. ¡°Now let¡¯s get the hell out of here. Like I said, gotta take this puppy for a test drive.¡±


    Paige glanced to me, hesitating before asking, ¡°Are you really okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet,¡± I admitted, ¡°but she¡¯s right, we do need to go.


    ¡°If you think it¡¯d be awkward to run into my family after breaking into one of their secret bases, imagine doing it while one of us looks like a Hannah Montana version of their daughter.¡±

 Non-Canon 17 - Setrea Evans

    ¡°This is wrong and you know it!¡± With those words echoing through the hall, Setrea Evans slammed the door of her bedroom, allowing that sound to punctuate her shout. While it was still fading, she stomped across the room and slapped her hands down on top of the vanity desk, staring at herself in the mirror. She had changed a lot in the four years since she had been transported from her own world to end up in this incredibly different one.


    She could still remember how scared and confused she had been, particularly when it had turned out that her arrival had coincided with the disappearance of Sterling and Elena Evans¡¯ son, Simon. And not merely in the sense that he had gone missing when she showed up. She had literally taken his place, appearing in the boys restroom at his school. Which had only added to her confusion and general¡­ freakout when other boys had appeared and started shouting at her in a language she didn''t understand. She had run away, using her recently acquired ability to Manifest Alistae to push their attention away from her as she raced through the building, growing more and more upset with each confusing and utterly alien thing she saw. This wasn¡¯t the statue her city had been built on, the statue she had lived on throughout her entire life to escape the monsters below. This was the ground. She was on the ground. Terror had filled the girl, as she had shouted for her father to no avail, before scrambling into a tree (a tiny, pathetic little thing compared to the skyscraper-sized statue she was accustomed to), but at least it had gotten her off the ground. There, she huddled in a ball, whispering pleas for her father to find her.


    But it was not her father who had found her. It was Sterling and Elena Evans. They had taken her in, taught her how to understand their language, and learned that their son had almost certainly been transported to her world at the same moment that she was transported here. They promised that they would put all of their resources into finding a way to send her home and get their son back.


    That had been four years ago. In the intervening time, the Evans had essentially (and legally as far as records were concerned) adopted Setrea. She had become a part of the family, had learned their secrets about the so-called Ministry, and grew to be a sister to little Cassidy. And Cassidy had grown to be a sister to her. While Setrea was still desperate to see her father again, her attachment to Cassidy had grown to the point that she was uncertain about what her true place was, about where she really belonged.


    It was that very attachment to the younger girl that had fueled both her shout and the slammed door. Now, staring into the mirror, the slim blonde girl snarled, ¡°It¡¯s wrong. It¡¯s wrong.¡±


    The wrong thing, in this case, was the fact that the Evans were planning on erasing Cassidy¡¯s memory. Not everything, of course. Just¡­ just the horrific tragedy that had happened. Her best friend, Anthony, had been murdered alongside his entire family and household staff by people working for Cassidy¡¯s own grandfather. Cassidy had been saved, but she saw all of that and now she was traumatized. So her parents wanted to take that away and ¡®fix¡¯ her by erasing the memory. Which was wrong. It was completely wrong. Yes, Cassidy had gone through a terrible thing. But she shouldn''t have the memory of her friend erased. She should be able to get over it properly, to move on in her own way. She should have her mind respected. Erasing her memory just to create an immediate ¡®fix¡¯ for it was¡­ bad. It was bad. Why didn¡¯t the Evans see that?


    She couldn¡¯t let this happen. She couldn''t allow them to erase Cassidy¡¯s trauma like that. If she wanted it, that would have been¡­ still probably wrong, but at least understandable. But her parents hadn¡¯t asked her. They weren''t going to ask her. They were just going to take it upon themselves to make the decision because they didn¡¯t want Cassidy to be sad. And while Setrea understood that, considering she certainly didn¡¯t want Cassidy to be sad, it wasn¡¯t their place to do something like that. Anthony was her friend, and traumatic or not, she deserved to hold onto his memory and get through it the right way.


    All those thoughts and more worked their way through the girl''s mind over those few seconds while she stared into her own eyes. The thought of what she had to do terrified her just as much as her sudden arrival in this world had four years earlier. Partly because of what it meant she would be giving up. The Evans were her best chance of finding a way back to her world, of seeing her father again. The resources they had were essentially unmatched, especially now that they had to put four years worth of work into solving the problem. Pissing them off right now, it was¡­ it was¡­


    It was Cassidy. No matter how bad it would be for her own prospects of getting home, she couldn''t let them do that to Cassidy. That was all there was to it. She couldn¡¯t let that happen to the girl who had become a little sister to her. The girl had already been traumatized by her grandfather, she didn¡¯t need her parents to betray her too.


    Besides, it was possible that they might calm down eventually and realize that she was right. Especially if she could help Cassidy through her trauma the right way. Even as that thought passed through her mind, she mostly dismissed it. Even if they accepted their daughter had moved on the proper way, they wouldn''t trust Setrea again. Not the way they did now. She was throwing that away.


    But for Cassidy, she would have thrown away a lot more.


    Decision made, Setrea pushed away from the vanity and moved to grab a backpack from the nearby shelf. She immediately began to throw important things into it. A couple simple changes of clothes, toiletries, a first aid kit she had insisted on having in her own room as soon as she found out what they were, and a few other essentials. But most importantly, she shoved several  envelopes full of cash into the bag. For the past several years, since learning how important money was, Setrea had been secretly storing actual cash in envelopes hidden throughout the room. She had more in a couple other places outside the house, but there was over twenty thousand dollars just in these ones. Nothing compared to what the Evans themselves had access to, but more than enough to get by for awhile.


    Once the backpack was full of everything she thought she would need immediately, Setrea slung it over her shoulder and checked the hallway just outside the door. These rooms had been Simon¡¯s before she was moved into them. This was the west wing of the third floor, while Cassidy¡¯s rooms were on the east wing on the same level. Seeing no one, she quickly and quietly raced down the hall, stopping at the grand stairway that marked the middle point between the floors. To her left, the stairs (wide enough to drive a car down) led down toward the main foyer. To her right, they curved up and around to head toward the fourth floor, where Elena and Sterling¡¯s own rooms and more private offices were.


    Seeing no one below, Setrea moved to the stairs leading upwards and crouched before straining her ears to listen. There. Elena was talking--not to her husband. She was on the phone. Listening for another few seconds, Setrea realized that the woman was talking to Kent Jackson. The memory man. She was calling him over to do the thing. And from the sound of things, he was already on his way. They were going over details while he was driving. Or being driven, whichever. He was coming. Which meant Setrea didn¡¯t have a lot of time. Not if she didn''t want this to turn into an even bigger problem.


    Glancing around once more quickly to make sure no one was looking, she continued running down the hall to reach her adopted sister¡¯s room. Trying the door revealed it was locked, so quickly hissed, ¡°Broadcast now, Cassidy¡¯s bedroom. Hey, hey let me in. It¡¯s Setrea. Let me in, we need to talk. Please, Cassie, let me in. It¡¯s important.¡± With the ¡®broadcast now¡¯ command, her words were sent into the room through the intercom.


    There was a pause, stretching on long enough that Setrea was starting to doubt that Cassidy was actually in the room. Then the door opened, but only a crack. The eleven-year-old girl herself, short, pixie-style dark hair framing a face that had been incredibly pale and lined with tears for the past several days, appeared there. Her voice was soft. ¡°Hi, Setry. Can you ummm, come back later? I don¡¯t really--¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t wait,¡± Setrea insisted. Without hesitating or even taking the time to ask, she quickly started to push her way into the room. She was still afraid that someone would come by and interrupt. ¡°I know you''re upset and want to be alone, but--¡± In that moment, she got the door open and stepped in right past the younger girl, only to see that Cassidy, in fact, was not alone.


    The instant she saw the totally unfamiliar younger blonde girl, Setrea all-but launched herself across the room. She caught the girl by the shoulders, demanding, ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±


    Cassidy had quickly shut the door, and threw herself between them, hands shoving the two apart. ¡°Stop! Stop it, she¡¯s my friend! She¡¯s--¡± Staring up at Setrea, eyes filling with tears once more, she managed a weak, ¡°Her name is Paige. She¡­ she was Anthony¡¯s friend too.¡±


    For Paige¡¯s part, the girl simply announced, ¡°I wanted to see Cassidy.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ snuck inside,¡± Setrea realized. ¡°Her parents don''t know you''re here. You got all the way across the grounds and into her room without letting anyone see you.¡±


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Cassidy quickly pleaded, ¡°Don¡¯t tell my parents, please? They¡­ they wouldn¡¯t understand. She¡¯s--¡± Glancing to Paige briefly, the girl added, ¡°She¡¯s special. I promise, she¡¯ll leave as soon as--¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Setrea quickly put in. ¡°I mean yes. She will. But so will--look, Cassie, we¡­¡± She paused then, at a loss for a moment of how to explain what was going on.


    ¡°Her parents are going to do something, aren¡¯t they?¡± That was Paige, staring intently at Setrea with a knowing look. ¡°They¡¯re going to do something drastic.¡±


    So, after a very brief hesitation, Setrea explained the situation in as few words as possible. She told them that the Evans had access to a man who could alter memories, and that they were going to have him use that to erase everything about Anthony and what had happened to him. The entire time she was talking and explaining that, she also grabbed one of the younger girl¡¯s backpacks and was filling it with essentials.


    Cassidy, of course, freaked out at the mere possibility. She very nearly went storming out of the room to yell at her parents, before both Setrea and Paige stopped her.


    ¡°We have to leave.¡± Paige was the one who made the announcement. ¡°We have to get out of here, Cassie. You already told me you didn¡¯t feel safe in this place. You--¡± She glanced toward the older girl before turning back to her friend. ¡°You had me teach you how to get out of here without setting off any alarms or being seen by the cameras.¡±


    Taking that in, Setrea opened her mouth to question it, before stopping. ¡°You were--right. Do that.¡± She focused on Cassidy. ¡°Listen, as soon as your parents calm down, I promise you can come back. But we need to leave. We have to get out of here before they fuck with anyone¡¯s mind, okay? Go with Paige, get out of the house and meet me just past the gate. As long as they think you¡¯re still in this room, it¡¯ll be okay. But they¡¯ll never let me just walk out of here with you. And Cassie, leave your phone here. We can¡¯t take them.¡±


    Cassidy hesitated slightly before leaning in to give her a quick hug, murmuring something quietly under her breath. Then she quickly threw a couple more things into the backpack that Setrea had been filling for her, tossed her phone on the bed, and moved to the nearby window. Meanwhile, Paige took a moment to stare at the older girl thoughtfully for a moment before joining her friend.


    Setrea watched them briefly, then exhaled and turned to head back out. Reaching the top of the stairs, she looked down just in time to see Sterling and Elena there, opening the door to greet Kent Jackson himself. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, they didn¡¯t have time. There was no more time.


    Hoping the other two would get out and off the grounds before Cassidy¡¯s parents realized she was missing, Setrea focused on Manifesting Alistae, allowing the power to shift everyone¡¯s attention away from her. It didn¡¯t make her invisible, as she would still be readily apparent on-camera, but it would stop the people at the door from noticing as she sprinted down the stairs and out the still-open door while they were politely greeting Kent Jackson.


    Once she was out the door without being seen, Setrea ran down the grand sidewalk, across the front driveway, and across the grounds toward the side lot where the staff parked. She didn''t trust herself to find every tracker that might be on any of the Evans¡¯ own cars, and realized that they would stand out anyway. So she ran to that lot, eyes scanning the vehicles there. Part of her felt bad at the prospect of stealing someone else''s vehicle, but she knew the Evans would take care of them. So, she settled on a ten-year-old pickup truck. It looked completely average, not too old and not too new. It wouldn¡¯t stand out on the street.


    One of the things that she had been given by Sterling himself was a special Touched-Tech device. It looked like a key with a small remote attached, but this would fit into and start almost any ignition. Along with that toy, Sterling had also taught the girl how to drive. The man had wanted her to know how to take care of herself if she was going to work with the Ministry, even though she technically wasn¡¯t old enough to drive legally yet. But then, she wasn''t even from this world, so her actual age to get a license seemed a bit immaterial.


    Starting up the truck, she pulled out and headed down the separate drive toward the staff entrance. Her hand rose to hit the button on the remote clipped to the sun visor, and the gate began to open. The guard stationed there glanced up, but all he saw at that moment was a truck that belonged to the gardener heading out. He barely paid attention before turning back to his phone. Why wouldn¡¯t he? He¡¯d seen the truck go in and out every day for years by that point. This was a truck he knew leaving the grounds. There was no reason for him to pay too much attention. Especially when Setrea used her power to push his focus away before he could look up far enough to see her driving.


    She pulled out through the gate, imagining the Evans and Jackson talking on their way up to Cassidy''s room. Whispering hopes that they would take their time, she drove around to the front of the mansion, glancing that way. There was no sign of any problem yet. No guards running around, Elena and Sterling weren¡¯t flying out the front door, and she couldn¡¯t hear any alarms. But that probably wouldn¡¯t last for long.


    Pulling the truck to a stop just past the front gate, she leaned over and opened the passenger door. Part of her wondered if she should honk, but she didn''t want to attract the attention of the guard there. And in the end, it wasn¡¯t necessary. She¡¯d barely opened the passenger door before Cassidy and Paige came darting out of the bushes. They clambered in, and Paige shut the door behind them, blurting, ¡°Go, go!¡±


    Setrea went. She shifted into drive and hit the gas just as the sound of the phone attached to the guardhouse began to ring. Before anything else could happen, Setrea floored it, sending the truck flying down the road. They passed the gate leading into the private neighborhood, the guard there idly waving.


    And then they were out. They were away from the Evans¡¯ house. But not totally free. Not by a long shot. Setrea knew that without a doubt. Sterling and Elena would put everything they had into finding them. And given who they were, ¡®everything they had¡¯ was quite a lot. They wouldn''t be safe until they were out of the state. They wouldn''t be completely safe even then, but at least once they got out of Michigan there would be a little breathing room. Which they could use to lay low somewhere until the Evans came to their senses and realized they didn¡¯t have to fuck with Cassidy¡¯s memory.


    But first they had to get to that point. And right now, they were barely out of the neighborhood. They had a long way to go. Or at least, two of them did.


    ¡°Where should I drop you off?¡± Setrea asked Paige. ¡°Your parents are gonna be worried about you if you stay with us.¡±


    Paige, however, shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t--I can¡¯t--my dad is¡­¡± She paused. ¡°Just go. I¡¯m going with you, and you don¡¯t have time to argue. I¡¯ll explain later, but my dad is worse than the Evans. He wants to--¡± Once again, she stopped herself, clearly torn on how much to say. Eventually, she settled on simply repeating, ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡±


    That whole exchange raised a lot of questions, but Paige was right, they didn¡¯t have time. So, Setrea simply kept going. She headed not toward the freeway, but for the nearest mall. In minutes, the Evans were going to have every authority figure in town watching for this truck. They had to ditch it and get something else. And then most likely ditch that shortly afterward. They would have to keep changing vehicles. Not to mention everything else they would have to do to stay ahead of the search.


    In that moment, a rush of feelings flooded the sixteen-year-old girl¡¯s mind. What the hell was she doing? She was all alone in this world and the Evans had taken her in. They had helped her, taught her, cared for her. They were everything she had here.


    No, not everything. Cassidy had been there. As she thought about that, Setrea glanced that way. She watched the girl looking out the window, looking so small and terrified about the whole situation. Cassidy was a sister to her. She couldn¡¯t let them erase her memory, couldn¡¯t let them fuck with her mind, no matter what. Hard as this was, she had to do it.


    With her resolve renewed, Setrea pulled the truck into the parking lot of the mall. She remembered what Sterling had taught her about taking a car if she ever needed to, when he had been going over emergency measures. He had been training her to help handle Ministry business basically since she had learned enough English to understand them. And now she was putting it to use in getting Cassidy away from them.


    Pulling the truck into a spot next to a car parked in the far rear side of the lot, Setrea told the others to get out. She did the same, then hesitated. Staring at the truck, she swallowed hard before moving around the back where the other two were. ¡°Cassidy, come here a sec.¡± When the younger girl took a step that way, Setrea put both hands on her shoulders. ¡°Look at me, okay? I want¡­ I want you to know that this is your choice. If you want to go home, you can. Maybe we can talk them into changing their minds. I--I don¡¯t want to take the choice away from you. I want--¡± She swallowed hard. ¡°You¡¯re my sister, Cass. I just want to--I¡¯m sorry.¡± She had no idea how to say what she needed to.


    ¡°You¡¯re my sister too,¡± Cassidy informed her. Then she embraced the other girl firmly. Her voice was soft, yet not quite as empty as it had been for the past few days. ¡°I miss Anthony. But I don¡¯t want my parents to make me not miss him. Grandpa¡­. Grandpa made him die. But they want to take him away.¡±


    Flinching, Setrea hugged the girl even tighter. ¡°They aren¡¯t thinking straight. They want to help you, but¡­ but they aren¡¯t doing it right.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re gonna be mad at you,¡± Cassie whispered. ¡°Really mad.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle it,¡± Setra assured her. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get out of here. We¡¯ve got a long way to go.¡±


    Soon, she had used the special key on the next car, and pulled out with the two younger girls in the back. Once they were out of the lot and headed for the freeway, she looked in the rearview just in time to see several police cars with lights flashing heading into the mall. That was quick enough that the Evans probably did have their employees¡¯ vehicles tracked. It wouldn¡¯t take long for them to find out what car was missing from the lot and spread the word, but by then the trio would be out of the city.


    Speaking of trio, she looked up into the rear-view mirror, finding Paige¡¯s eyes staring at her. ¡°I need you to explain now. What were you talking about back there, with your dad and all? Why do you want to come with us?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Paige flatly replied, shifting a little. ¡°And¡­ and a crazy one. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll believe me.¡± Her eyes glanced toward Cassidy. ¡°... Either of you.¡±


    Her words made Setrea smile very slightly for the first time in awhile. She thought of everything that had happened in her life to lead her to this point. ¡°Oh, believe me, there¡¯s an awful lot I¡¯d probably believe.


    ¡°So why don¡¯t you start from the beginning. We¡¯ve got plenty of time, and a long way to go.¡±

 Interlude 22A - The Artist Formerly Known As Raige

    ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    Hearing that voice as she strode across the main room of the pawnshop in her brand new body, the girl known as Raige paused and let out a long, low sigh. Then she smiled, because sighing was yet another thing she could now do with her own body. The last few hours, since they had come back to this shop and everyone else had left, had been full of those moments. Everything she did, every sound she made, was brand new. Bending her arm or fingers a certain way, raising her leg, winking, scratching her head, turning in a circle, hopping on one foot, everything and anything she did was completely new and completely hers. This was her body, one she didn¡¯t have to share with anyone. Even if it did happen to look like Cassidy Evans if she was blonde and had glasses, it was still Raige. Or¡­


    ¡°Should I keep the name Raige?¡± she mused aloud while turning to look at Paige, who had been the one to address her from the stairs on the other side of the room. ¡°I mean, if I want to blend in, Raige might not work for that. Plus, it¡¯s not me. It¡¯s not my name. It¡¯s a combination of your name and our¡­ original self¡¯s. Roxanne and Paige. I guess we could¡¯ve gone with Poxanne or Poxxy, huh?¡±


    Paige was silent for a moment before giving a short nod. ¡°Whatever name you want to go by, that¡¯s what we¡¯ll use. It¡¯s all up to you. But like I said, where are you going?¡±


    ¡°I waited for curfew to be over,¡± Raige (for now) replied casually. ¡°Which was really hard, I¡¯ll have you know. Do you have any idea how much I want to be out there walking around? There¡¯s so much stuff to see, so many people to talk to and things to hear. Ohh and taste. I¡¯ve been waiting to taste things for so long. Soda, pizza, broccoli, steak, brussel sprouts, bread, chocolate¨CI¡¯ve heard good things about chocolate. I mean, sure, I have the basic memories of tasting things from your head, and from that prick bastard¡¯s programming. But that¡¯s not the same thing as tasting it with my own mouth.¡± She gestured that way with one hand idly. ¡°The point is, this is a brand new body, my body, and I have a lot of things I need to do with it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Paige agreed, ¡°We do have a lot of things to do, like figure out how to save Irelyn and Trivial. And what to do with all that other stuff we took from the Ministry. And you still look like¨C¡± She turned a bit, looking around as though to make sure no one was around to overhear. Not that there was much chance of that, given how early it still was. The two of them might have had plenty of energy, particularly considering how long Paige¡¯s body had been resting, and the fact that Raige¡¯s had effectively been asleep for literally years. But Wren and Fred didn¡¯t have that luxury, and they had been up for a long time. It would be several hours before either of them started moving. Still, it didn¡¯t hurt to check. Only once she was confident they were alone did Paige continue. ¡°You still look like Cassidy, at least somewhat.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s another thing I¡¯m gonna take care of while I¡¯m out,¡± Raige informed her sister. ¡°I figure I can get some of that self-tanning stuff to make my skin a little darker, and colored contacts too. Between the hair change, the glasses, and that stuff, I won¡¯t exactly look totally different, but it¡¯ll help. So you see, I¡¯m thinking ahead.¡± She tapped her temple before waving. ¡°I¡¯d invite you to come with, but weren¡¯t you going to go to school today? You know, since everyone¡¯s wondering where you are.¡±


    Paige was quiet for a moment, running that through her head before she sighed softly. ¡°You¡¯re not planning on disappearing, are you? Tell me you¡¯re not just going to go out in the world and vanish so we never see you again.¡±


    Mouth quirking just a bit in a sly smile, Raige replied, ¡°Are you saying you¡¯d be worried about me? Or that you like having me around? Or that you need my help.¡± One hand waved around in front of her own new face. ¡°Or maybe you¡¯re just afraid that I¡¯ll get in trouble while looking like this.¡±


    ¡°All of the above,¡± Paige informed her. ¡°I¡¯m worried about all that. And we definitely need you if we¡¯re going to stop¡­ Benjamin.¡± She was clearly making an effort not to say ¡®father.¡¯ ¡°You said you cared about Irelyn, after everything you saw in my¨Cour memories.¡±


    Raige nodded idly. ¡°I do, and I¡¯m definitely gonna help. Not just because of the caring thing, but also because fuck Benny. He¡¯s a piece of shit traitor and he¡¯ll get what¡¯s coming to him. So yeah, I¡¯ll be there to help with that. But the genius kid¡¯s asleep, and you and everyone else are going to be busy all day going to school. Which leaves me, and I refuse to be cooped up in here that whole time waiting for you people to tell me I¡¯m allowed to do something. I¡¯ve been cooped up and trapped my entire existence, first in the computer, then inside that bullet, then inside you. We¡¯ve spent weeks just lying there. And while I do think you¡¯re better company now than I thought before, I need more than that. This is my body now, and I¡¯m going to go out and have some fun. I¡¯ll be careful, sort of, but I¡¯m not just going to sit around like your wind-up toy. I¡¯m not going back in the box. And if you try to make me, then we might have a problem.¡±


    Paige¡¯s head shook. ¡°We don¡¯t¨Cwe won¡¯t have a problem. I¡¯m not trying to force you to stay in a box. It¡¯s just¨Cyou¡¯re right, you haven¡¯t been out in the world by yourself. You have my memories and your programming, but that¡¯s different from being out on your own. I just¨Cfuck, I¡¯m worried about you, okay? Just be careful, please? Here.¡± She reached into her pocket, tugging out a roll of twenty dollar bills, which she passed that way. ¡°Don¡¯t steal shit. Try not to attract a lot of attention. And if you get lost¨C¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t get lost, we both have internal GPS,¡± Raige reminded her with a smirk. ¡°Besides, I took one of these.¡± She held up one of the special cell phones from Wren¡¯s lab, the ones that couldn¡¯t be tracked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mother Hen, I¡¯ll call if I need anything. Now breathe and focus on your own shit. Wait, focus on my shit one more time. You never answered the question about changing my name.


    ¡°What do you think of Rassidy?¡±


    ********


    They hadn¡¯t come to a conclusion on that name thing by the time the currently-still-named Raige left the shop. She knew Paige was still fretting over what she was going to do out in the big city by herself, which was almost amusing. Despite their initial meeting, particularly the part where they had tried to kill each other for so long (which, okay, was mostly Raige¡¯s doing), she had grown fond of her sort-of twin over all that time.


    Was twin even the right word now? After all, she was currently more of a Cassidy twin. And it was unlikely that they would find another body she could use. Hell, she wasn¡¯t even sure she would want to if the option came up. It had only been a few hours, but this one was already starting to feel comfortable. It was shorter than the first body, but she could work with that. It would help make people underestimate her. And that could be incredibly useful.


    Walking out of the alley behind the shop, she made her way to the sidewalk and slowly looked around. The street in front of Wren¡¯s place wasn¡¯t exactly incredibly busy yet, not this early. But there were people walking around here and there, and cars were passing by on their way to work. The sun was up and bright, and Raige tilted her head back, spreading her arms out to let its warmth wash over her. A long, content sigh escaped her. This was what she had been waiting for, this was what she had been missing. Being outside, completely free and able to do her own thing. She hadn¡¯t even technically done anything other than walk outside yet, but this was still the best day of her life. She could do anything right now. This was completely different than being inside the holographic mental projection mind space that she had been sharing with Paige. She couldn¡¯t control this world. She couldn¡¯t shift it around however she wanted. And that, more than anything, excited the girl. There could be surprises out here, new adventures, even danger. Oh, she hoped there was danger. She could have a lot of fun with danger.


    A sudden ringing bell and a shout of, ¡°Hey, get out of the way!¡± filled the air. Reflexively, Raige pivoted aside, even as a bike messenger went sailing past right where she had just been standing. The annoyed rider called back over his shoulder, ¡°Watch what you¡¯re doing, dumbshit!¡±


    Clenching her fist, the girl took a step that way, her eyes scanning at the ground for something to throw after him. But she stopped herself. No, she had promised to be good and not attract attention. Assaulting a bike messenger in broad daylight directly in front of Wren¡¯s shop just because he was a bit rude to her probably didn¡¯t fall within the line of not attracting attention.


    So, grumbling a little to herself, she turned the other way. Food. She could have some real food now, her own food. She could find out what this body liked to eat, how its tastes went.


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    That prospect thoroughly distracted her from the annoyance about that guy on the bike, and she set off walking down the sidewalk. She had no idea where she was going, or what sort of food she was looking for. But that was basically the best part. She didn¡¯t have a plan, and she wasn¡¯t doing something anyone told her to. She was just walking. If she chose, she could turn around and go back the other way, or simply turn the corner to go right at this intersection.


    She went left instead. No real reason, she just made a last-second decision. Crossing the street, the girl smiled brightly and chose to skip a few times along the asphalt. Just to see what it was like. Once she made it to the other sidewalk, she did a cartwheel. Yet again, solely because she could. Other people nearby looked at her a bit curiously, but she ignored them. They weren¡¯t important. Her new freedom was important, and she was going to enjoy it. Anyone who didn¡¯t like that could go jump in a river. She¡¯d gladly help them do so if they tried to say anything about what she could or couldn¡¯t do. Come to think of it, if that rude messenger came by again, she wouldn¡¯t mind temporarily relieving him of his bike so she could see how it felt to ride one.


    Unfortunately, a glance around revealed no sign of him, or any other bicycle, so she simply started walking once more. A young couple were passing her going the other way, and she promptly met their gazes with a bright, ¡°Fun to be out walking with our own feet today, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    For some reason the two seemed freaked out by that and didn¡¯t respond, instead putting their heads down as they hurried past. Which seemed rude, but oh well. She didn¡¯t have the time nor inclination to waste worrying about two people she didn¡¯t know anything about. There was far too much to do, far too much to experience.


    Speaking of experiencing things, right ahead of her was a corner diner. Spotting the sign, the girl smiled. Food. It was time to experience real food, not someone else¡¯s memories, or the fake sensation from the virtual world she had shared with Paige.


    As she approached, there was another brand new sensation. The scent of food filled her nose, and the girl almost tipped over sideways. Her mouth fell open in surprise. Smelling things in virtual reality hadn¡¯t felt anything like this. And experiencing memories second hand? Forget it.  That was absolutely nothing compared to standing outside this diner and smelling the food within. Her existence had been fairly short, and her experience with an actual body of her own even shorter (counted in a handful of hours), but she could safely say that this was the most amazing moment of her life so far.


    On the other hand, if standing out here smelling the food was such a good experience, how amazing would¨CEven as that thought filled her mind, she quickly stepped that way. Her hand found the handle for the door and she stepped inside. Now the scent was even more overwhelming. She stood just inside, tilting her head back to let the experience wash over her. She could smell dozens of different plates of food, hear people talking from all sides, the clink of glasses, of dishes being moved around, the sizzle of stuff cooking back in the kitchen, all of it. She felt all of it, standing there with her head tilted back and her arms spread. For those few moments, she let it all wash over her and just¡­ absorbed everything.


    ¡°Yo, kid, you okay?¡± A tired-looking woman with frizzy red hair and a waitress uniform stood a few feet away, eyeing her with a mixture of concern and obvious nervousness. It was clear that the last thing she wanted was to deal with someone who was about to pass out or throw up on her floor. ¡°If you need some he¨C¡±


    ¡°Food,¡± the girl interrupted. ¡°I need food. I¡¯m very hungry, feels like I haven¡¯t eaten in¡­ ever.¡± Saying those words made her give a broad smile, even if the tired waitress didn¡¯t get the joke.


    Eh, it was pretty funny though, wasn¡¯t it? She thought those words inwardly, before pausing for a moment. No response. Right¡­ right, of course there wasn¡¯t. Paige wasn¡¯t here. They weren¡¯t sharing a body anymore, so they couldn¡¯t communicate like that. Which was¡­ good. It was good, of course. She had her own body now. If she wanted to talk to Paige, or anyone else, she would just track them down and do that. Or use the phone she had borrowed. She didn¡¯t need to have the other girl inside her head, spying on all her thoughts and just¨Cthis was better. So much fucking better.


    The waitress had given her a brief scan, before striking as she turned to lead the girl to a booth in the corner. Setting a menu down, she asked, ¡°Get you anything to drink?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the girl immediately answered. ¡°I would like coffee, and orange juice, and iced tea, and¡­ chocolate milk.¡±


    Squinting at her, the woman asked, ¡°You got¡­ other people coming? Hang on, if this is some sort of YouTube prank, I don¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a prank, and they¡¯re for me.¡± Reaching into her pocket, the girl produced the roll of twenties, passing one of them to the woman immediately. ¡°I know I can be odd, and I might say more weird things. But that¡¯s for you right now. If you bear with me, I¡¯ll give you another one just for you after I¡¯m done. And I¡¯ll pay for the food. It¡¯s not a dine and dash, or a dumb joke. Please just bring me coffee, orange juice, iced tea, and chocolate milk. In small glasses? I want to taste all of them.¡±


    The waitress waited a moment, clearly considering her indecisively before taking the money with a nod. ¡°You got it, kid. Coming right up. You ain¡¯t the weirdest customer I¡¯ve had around here, not by a long shot.¡±


    Through the next half hour or so, the girl tasted a little bit of everything she could. She judged the orange juice as acceptable, coffee as delicious with and without sugar, chocolate milk as bad, and iced tea as almost as good as coffee. Foodwise, normal pancakes without syrup were fair, adding each different flavor syrup or jam made them better, bacon was amazing, sausage was almost as good, and of the multiple kinds of eggs she tried, all were adequate but sunny-side up was the best. She liked dipping the toast and sausage into the bright yellow yolk.


    Chocolate pie was another thing she tried, and hated that as well. Both chocolate milk and chocolate pie tasted gross to her. So she tried ordinary milk just to check, and that was fine. So it was clearly the chocolate thing. But people were supposed to love chocolate, so¡­ clearly they were the weird ones. That stuff was nasty.


    After paying for her food (plus the promised extra tip) and leaving the diner, the girl found herself back out on the street once more, focused on something else. Her name. Did she want to continue to be Raige? She¡¯d brought it up before, but really. For the entire time she had been in that diner, she hadn¡¯t thought of herself as Raige. It didn¡¯t really¡­ feel like her anymore. Sure, she could be angry sometimes, but was that really the name she wanted to represent herself? Even if the idea had been that she was part Roxanne and part Paige, maybe she¡­ needed a name that was just her. She wasn¡¯t Roxanne or Paige. She was herself. It was like she had said to Paige, she needed her own name, one that didn¡¯t tie her to either of them.


    But the idea of calling herself Rassidy was still pretty funny.


    Considering all that and musing over the possibilities, she picked a random direction and started to walk once more. She had experienced food (and smell) but there was still so much more out there. Plus, she needed to buy that stuff to help change her appearance a bit more.


    Eventually, she found her way to a mall (not the same one their little group had raided the night before), and casually made her way through it, looking over the assortment of stores. She also bought a candy bar, tried it, and tossed the rest in a trash can. Yeah, chocolate was disgusting. One of the mall security guards approached while she was looking at a pair of shoes in a display window and asked if she was supposed to be in school. She, in turn, cheerfully informed the man that she was not in the school because she had been suspended for fighting with another girl. Which didn¡¯t seem to make him feel much better about her being around the mall, but at least he backed off.


    Eventually, she bought some new clothes, as well as the self-tanning spray and colored contacts. A trip to the restroom gave the girl a chance to apply all of it, and she also changed into some of those new clothes, a pair of designer white jeans and a tummy-baring black top, along with new sneakers. Checking her new look out in the mirror with those now blue eyes and long blonde hair, she smiled faintly. This was the new her, not just a blonde Cassidy Evans, even if the resemblance was still apparent. For one thing, Cassidy would never dress like this.


    Satisfied with her new look for the moment, the girl turned to walk out. She was still musing over a possible name, one that really said who she was. It had to be a good one, because she didn¡¯t want to keep changing it. Not Raige, not Roxanne, not Paige. One for her, one that said who she was. The only problem was¡­ what could it be? She wanted one that actually fit her, one that felt like hers.


    Turning her head slightly, she caught sight of a large picture on the wall just outside the restroom. It was a breathtaking image of snow-covered mountains that made her gasp. After a moment, she stepped that way and gently touched the picture. It was quite possibly the most beautiful view she had ever seen, a photograph taken high above those peaks. It made her feel as though she was flying over those gorgeous mountains. Right next to that photograph was another, this one of the same mountains but lower down. That second view was taken with a gorgeous lake framed in the center, while the mountains themselves towered over it in the background. Slowly, she raised both hands, touching each picture. For a moment, her fingers brushed over the images. There. She wanted to go there. She wanted to see those mountains, that lake. She wanted to be there. That¡­ that was freedom.


    Eventually, her gaze was drawn to a small caption explaining where the photographs had been taken. She leaned in close, reading that before moving her eyes back and forth between the pictures and the caption. These mountains were perfect. They wouldn¡¯t be pushed around. They were free and strong. They were indomitable. They were everything she wanted to be.


    The phone she had taken buzzed in her pocket, and she glanced at it before answering in an intentionally-deepened voice. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, whoever¡¯s calling, the girl who had this was just dragged away by a SWAT team for killing some guy on a bicycle.¡±


    ¡°Very funny, Raige,¡± Paige flatly retorted. ¡°I was just calling to make sure you¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just dandy,¡± the girl replied evenly. ¡°But it¡¯s not Raige anymore.¡± She turned slightly to look back at the name of those beautiful mountains once more, another smile finding its way to her face.


    ¡°Call me Sierra. Sierra Nevada.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 15

    Paige and Sierra


    The sound of bladed skates sliding across ice was joined by that of a hockey stick tapping the puck back and forth a few times as it was brought forward. Then a loud crack filled the air, followed by a solid whoomph as the puck was sent flying into the net just over twenty feet away. Almost all of the lights were off, leaving the ice rink only dimly lit. There was only one person out there.


    Well, two now.


    ¡°Good shot.¡± As she said those words, Paige glided across the ice from the entrance onto the rink, joining her¡­ sister (the fact that she was using a body that looked like Cassidy was confusing on multiple levels as far as that went) in front of the remaining pucks that had been lined up across from the goal. ¡°But then, I suppose it would be.¡±


    ¡°Pittman did program us to be good at all sorts of physical stuff,¡± Sierra agreed without looking up. She raised the stick, judged the distance and angle, then whacked the next puck hard. It bounced off the inside of the left post and ricocheted into the net. ¡°And don¡¯t you still have that whole school thing going on right now? Playing hooky your first day back seems like a bad idea. Were you that paranoid about what I was doing?¡±


    Paige addressed the latter point first. ¡°Free period. Which you knew when you let me know where you were going to be. And I wasn¡¯t talking about him.¡± As she spoke, the girl held her hand out for the stick.


    Sierra considered that before taking her next shot. After watching the puck hit the net dead center, she handed the stick over. ¡°You¡¯re talking about Irelyn.¡± She paused briefly, then added, ¡°About how she brought you here and tried to teach you how to skate, and how to play hockey. Just because you mentioned liking those Mighty Ducks movies.¡±


    ¡°Us,¡± Paige corrected while lining up her own shot. With another loud track, the next puck was sent into the net. ¡°You have all my memories of those times.¡±


    Shaking her head, Sierra pushed off and glided around in a slow circle along the ice. ¡°Not really the same thing, babe. I wasn¡¯t really there. It was more like reading a book or watching a movie for me. A movie I¡¯ve completely memorized, but still. I wasn¡¯t actually there experiencing it.¡± Another pause, then, ¡°I mean, I wasn¡¯t here, I guess. The point is, it¡¯s not a real memory for me. It¡¯s just something that was uploaded when I got¡­ eh, shot into you, literally.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you¡¯re here?¡± Paige asked curiously, even as she lined up the next shot and sent the puck flying that way. ¡°Trying to get some sort of personal context for that memory you inherited? Also, considering this place isn¡¯t even supposed to open for another hour today, how much did you bribe the guy to let you in?¡± While asking that, she held the stick out that way.


    ¡°Fifty bucks for half an hour,¡± Sierra replied. ¡°Why, did you want me to get a receipt so I could pay you back?¡± Her hand took the offered stick as she teased Paige, quickly and efficiently lining up another shot so it would bounce back and forth between the front two posts a couple times with a loud ringing sound before going in the net.


    Snorting, the other girl shook her head. ¡°Trust me, there¡¯s a lot more where that came from. Too much, really. And considering the source, I don¡¯t really care what happens to it. I just wanted to make sure you got your money¡¯s worth. You know, since you don¡¯t exactly have a lot of experience with buying stuff.¡±


    Sierra gave an exaggerated gasp. ¡°Ohh is that why the waitress looked so happy when I handed her two thousand bucks for my meal? The bill probably said twenty dollars, but I just got so confused with the period before the zeroes for the coin amount.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re hilarious,¡± Paige retorted flatly. ¡°But uhh, Sierra, huh?¡±


    ¡°Sierra Nevada,¡± the girl confirmed. ¡°First name, last name. If anyone asks, my parents were eccentric. Which, if you ask me, is a step up from the truth.¡± That time, she pushed off and did a couple slow skating circles before taking another shot. ¡°A pretty fucking huge step up.¡±


    Rather than respond to that immediately, Paige was quiet for a few seconds. And when she did respond, it wasn¡¯t directly to that. Instead, she asked, ¡°You remember when we¡­ when I was sitting over there, the first time Irelyn brought us to this place?¡± Her hand gestured over to the bench behind the entrance gate, where people would sit and tie their skates on.


    ¡°She thought you were nervous about being out on the ice,¡± Sierra murmured, her own gaze moving that way. ¡°She gave that whole pep talk about trying new things and not worrying about being laughed at.¡± She glanced away with a small frown. ¡°You were only partly listening. Mostly you were worried about looking too good on the ice. You had to hide all that perfect balance, aim, enhanced strength, and everything else that Pittman programmed into us, so you¡¯d actually look like a normal kid skating for the first time. She thought you were afraid of skating and looking bad, but you were really afraid you wouldn¡¯t look bad enough.¡±


    Paige was quiet once more, her gaze locked onto that bench in the distance as she played that memory out a few times. ¡°You¡¯re right, especially about the part where I wasn¡¯t really paying attention to her. But then, why would I? As far as I knew, she didn¡¯t really care about me being here anyway. I thought she was just going through the motions, doing what was expected of her as the ¡®older sister.¡¯ She was already literally disowned, I guess maybe I thought¡­ I dunno, I thought she was just doing that because I might bring her back into the family once her dad was gone or¡­ something.¡± Saying it out loud like that made her grimace. ¡°Or looking better for her mother. Or for the public. Whatever, I don¡¯t know. I just never considered it as¡­ I never thought she was¡­¡±


    Sierra¡¯s skate lightly kicked the front of hers, making her look that way. ¡°Never thought she was doing all that stuff because she really wanted to spend time with you? Never thought she really, genuinely wanted to get to know you?¡±


    ¡°Never occurred to me,¡± Paige confirmed in a soft voice, wincing inwardly. ¡°I always thought she was playing the role or making an angle for something in the future. And since I never expected to actually have a future in that family, I ignored it. I ignored her. Or, I mean, I ignored the overtures she made. I played the role like I thought she was playing it and¡­ and just assumed she didn¡¯t care beyond that. Back when we were stuck on the couch, when I heard about the Banners disappearing, I thought she might look into that. I thought she might look for them. You know, because they¡¯re important people. And they¡¯re her parents, even if they did disown her. Either way, I thought she might look for them. But me? Why would she look for me?¡± She turned a bit, her gaze moving from the bench across the way over to where Sierra was quietly watching her. ¡°Why would she look for me?¡± There was urgency to her repeated question, her voice rising slightly.


    ¡°Because she wasn¡¯t going through the motions,¡± Sierra informed her flatly. ¡°She wasn¡¯t faking anything, wasn¡¯t pretending. All that stuff she was doing, or trying to do, it wasn¡¯t an attempt to look good, or convince you to bring her back into the family, or anything like that. It was about you. It was about her wanting it to spend time with you. Because she cared about you, dipshit. She was trying to treat you like a real sister. And now she¡¯s looking for you like a real sister.¡±


    Paige thought about that for a moment, turning away to gaze into the distance without actually seeing anything in front of her. Her focus was directed inward, playing through memories with a different point of view. She thought of everything Irelyn had said to her in the past, everything she¡¯d done, all the times she had invited Paige out to eat, or to an event, or just to spend time together. And she thought of all the times she had used any excuse to get out of it.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± she finally muttered.


    ¡°Yeah, pretty much,¡± Sierra agreed. ¡°And now she¡¯s out there in trouble because she wouldn¡¯t stop looking for you. Well, for you and for the parents who disowned her in the first place. Even after we sent her on a wild goose chase, she somehow managed to track something all the way to one of Pittman¡¯s actual labs. Or one of his biolems found her. Or¨Cfuck, I don¡¯t even know. We sent her to Florida, the other side of the fucking country. How the hell did she manage to get anywhere near anything important to Pittman? How¡¯d she manage to end up on Breakwater, for fuck¡¯s sake?¡±


    Paige took in a breath before letting it out. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to ask her, once we get her away from that place. Once we¡­.¡± She trailed off, words turning into a heavy sigh.


    ¡°Once we actually have a plan for how to do that,¡± Sierra finished for her. ¡°You know that¡¯s easier said than done, right? This is Breakwater we¡¯re talking about, not just some random prison. The whole point is that it¡¯s supposed to be impossible to get anyone out of there. It¨C¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± Paige blurted. ¡°I know it¡¯s going to be hard. Hell, I know it¡¯s going to be practically impossible. But we have to. I mean I have to. I¡¯m not gonna make¨CI mean¨C¡± She blanched, folding her arms as she stood there on her skates. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna force anyone else into anything stupid. But I have to get Irelyn off that island. Her and Trivial too. They were trying to help me. They¨Cshe¡­ Irelyn¡¯s there because I sent her on a wild goose chase, and then she actually found real danger. Now she¡¯s a Star-Touched in literally the worst possible place on the planet for her to be. They both are. It¡¯s my fault they¡¯re there, and I have to help them. I have to help her.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡± Sierra asked. ¡°I mean, not to completely skip past the impossible part of getting them off that island, but assuming we manage that, what will you do next?¡±


    After a brief pause, Paige admitted, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Honestly, I have no idea. I know I want to talk to her. I want to ask¡­ why. You know, why she actually cared so much, why she tried so hard to find me, and why she wanted to get to know me. I want to ask her why it mattered to her. She was already gone from the family when I was ¡®adopted.¡¯ They kicked her out, disowned her, then took me in. I was her replacement. Why wouldn¡¯t she be angry about that? Why wasn¡¯t she angry? Why did she want to know me? Why did¡­ just¡­ why?¡± She had unfolded her arms by that point, putting her hands up against her forehead. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    With a loud crack, Sierra sent the last puck into the net. ¡°Speaking as someone with a unique perspective, considering I have all those memories but it wasn¡¯t me experiencing them, maybe she was trying to be what she wished she had.¡± She pushed off and started to skate over to the goal while adding, ¡°I mean, when she was younger. She knows exactly what growing up in that family was like, how demanding her parents are. She went through it and she didn¡¯t have anyone to talk to. Maybe she was trying to be the sister she wished she had. And maybe she kept trying so you¡¯d always know she was there if you needed someone. Even when you barely paid attention, she still¨Cyou know, wanted to be in your memory. Just in case you ever opened up.¡±


    Paige didn¡¯t respond to that at first. She ran the words through her head a few times along with her own memories. Memories that she knew the other girl was running through as well. Finally, she repeated her earlier, ¡°Fuck.¡± That was followed by an enthusiastic, ¡°Damn it, damn it! She gives a shit. She really, genuinely gives a shit. And we just¨CI¡¯m sorry, I mean I just wrote it off like she was playing a role. Maybe because that¡¯s what I was doing all the time. I don¡¯t know. But like I said, I have to get her out of there. And then tell her the truth. At least about myself. I have to tell her about me, and why all of that happened. She deserves that much. Deserves to know what was really going on, what her parents wanted, what my¨Cyeah. And if she¡¯s repulsed by that, if she wants nothing to do with me once she knows what I really am, then¡­ then fine. But she needs to know.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s focus on getting her out of there,¡± Sierra replied, while giving the pucks one light smack after another with the stick to send them out of the net and back that way. ¡°We can worry about the details about what we¡¯re going to tell her once she¡¯s not trapped on an island full of the worst supervillains who have ever been imprisoned.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Paige echoed, glancing that way curiously.


    Sierra opened her mouth, then hesitated. ¡°I mean, yeah that might get kinda complicated.¡± She glanced down at herself with a slight grimace. ¡°She knows Cassidy. So this¡­¡± Her hand gestured up toward her face. ¡°This might not work. So yeah, maybe you should talk to her yourself. But fuck it, I¡¯m still gonna help get her off that damn island.¡±


    Paige nodded slowly in agreement. ¡°That¡¯s the part that matters right now. We can figure out the rest of it later.¡± She bit her lip, a guilty flush crossing the girl¡¯s face. ¡°Maybe you can help me come up with an idea of how to start making up for sending her on the wild goose chase that landed her and Trivial on Breakwater to begin with.¡± That tone of disbelief that such a thing had actually happened was still apparent in her voice.


    For a few long, silent seconds, the two of them stared at one another. Finally, Sierra broke that silence with a quiet, ¡°She brought you here. She taught you how to skate and play hockey. Or tried to, anyway. She did all that stuff, because she really¡­ she actually cared.¡±


    ¡°She went looking for me because she cares,¡± Paige put in, her own voice equally soft. ¡°She turned a total wild goose chase all the way down in Florida into a one-way trip to Breakwater just because she wouldn¡¯t give up trying to find me. And the parents who disowned her. She did all that because she really cares about me. She was trying. She was really, genuinely trying, and I just¨C¡± Cutting herself off, the blonde girl sighed heavily once more. ¡°Can I see that?¡± Raising her hand, she held it out and waited until Sierra had silently passed her the stick. Then she lined up a shot on one of the pucks, staring down at it intently for a long moment of contemplation. ¡°When she¡¯s off that island, I¡¯m gonna bring her back here.¡± She paused, then looked over. ¡°We. We¡¯ll bring her back here.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Sierra raised an eyebrow. ¡°Isn¡¯t that complicated?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll get you a better disguise or something, I dunno.¡± Paige shrugged. ¡°What I do know is that you have my memories. You¡¯re part of this too. If¡­ if you want to be.¡± She waited until the other girl gave a slow nod before continuing. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out. But whatever we have to do, whatever happens, we¡¯re bringing her back to this place.¡±


    With that, she raised the stick and snapped it down. The puck was sent flying not into the net, but off the left bar. It rebounded backwards through the air, before Paige smacked it with the stick once more, swinging the thing like a bat. The puck was sent forward to bounce off the right bar, coming back toward her. Once again, she smacked it that way, making it rebound off the top bar that time. From there, it flipped up, end over end through the air before coming down neatly on the fat end of the hockey stick that Paige was holding out sideways.


    ¡°And maybe we¡¯ll be the ones teaching her some stuff next time.¡±


    *********


    Aftermath Of A Joyride (Continuing the NON-CANON storyline from chapters here</a>, here</a>, and here</a>)


    Most of the general public would have been disappointed to see the utter mundanity of the room that the collective leaders and second-in-commands of the various Star-Touched groups of Detroit were meeting in. Most anyone, upon hearing that such an important and powerful people were gathering together to make big decisions, would almost certainly have pictured a grand room with walls of solid steel, high-tech displays along every wall, a massive table in the center of the room projecting a holographic map of the city and surrounded by chairs with each Star-Touched¡¯s name and symbol emblazoned across the back, and possibly even more amazing things.


    In truth, however, they met in an average conference room on the third floor of a local police precinct. The smell of old coffee and stale donuts filled the room, which itself consisted of a heavily-cracked linoleum floor, wooden walls that had seen better days, and a tiled ceiling that probably needed to be replaced soon. It was furnished simply by a couple wooden tables and an assortment of metal folding chairs, as well as an old podium near the front, next to an actual chalkboard.


    Silversmith was standing at the front by that podium. Beside him was a plainclothes police detective who was murmuring a bit in his ear, while Flea stood on the opposite side, flipping through messages on her phone. Meanwhile, throughout the rest of the room, Brumal and Trivial from the state-sponsored team known as the Spartans, Caishen and Skip from Ten Towers, and Hallowed and Lucent from the Seraphs were scattered and engaged in their own private conversations with one another, or looking through their own phones.


    Finally, Trivial looked up from the file she had been glancing through and cleared her throat until Silversmith looked at her. Once he did, she asked, ¡°So are we going to get this show on the road or what?¡± Straightening up in her costume consisting of purple scalemail armor, a black hooded cloak, tan pants, and a purple helmet with black visor, she gestured toward the nearby (somewhat stained) window. ¡°You know, before the bad guys out there get the idea that we¡¯re all off the streets and start acting like kids whose parents went out of town for the weekend.¡±


    Beside her, Brumal (also wearing her own standard costume of blue and white camo, a tactical combat helmet with an interwoven mesh covering the rest of her face, and bright blue lenses over the eyes) gave a short nod. ¡°She¡¯s right. Blunt, but right. If we¡¯re going to discuss the situation, we should get into it.¡±


    ¡°You mean discuss Joyride,¡± Flea put in. The futuristic ninja/samurai-clad woman put her phone away while adding, ¡°And what exactly we¡¯re going to do about her.¡±


    ¡°Ahem, what are we planning on doing?¡± That was Lucent, perched atop the edge of a lamp on one of the tables. ¡°Thus far, the girl has not overtly harmed anyone. In point of fact, she has aided us by exposing a quite¡­ negative influence within our own Minority team.¡±


    ¡°Whamline,¡± Silversmith muttered, giving a nod toward the plainclothes man nearby. ¡°Detective Lanner here was just filling me in on what they¡¯ve found so far. Apparently they have enough evidence to officially charge the boy with a few different murder counts, now that they started digging. More might be coming, we¡¯re not sure yet. I won¡¯t give into the details right here, but I¡¯m having him send the files to each of you.¡± He paused before continuing. ¡°But of course, we¡¯re not here to talk about Whamline. This is about Joyride herself.¡±


    Skip, wearing her blue-black bodysuit with a short-sleeved white robe including a hood over her hair and a black cloth mask over the bottom half of her face, spoke up in her typical calm, nearly-emotionless voice. ¡°She exposed the boy as the dangerous psychotic that he is. In our book, that makes her more of an ally than a threat.¡±


    Beside her, the woman in black boots, dark gold pants with black lines running down them, purple scalemail armor covered by a gold leather coat, and a black metal helmet with purple lenses shook her head. She was Caishen, Skip¡¯s own older sister and team leader. ¡°She also decided that Lightning Bug is her archenemy,¡± she pointed out quietly. Her voice was very slightly strained as she added, ¡°And Bug is very excited about that fact.¡±


    Silversmith took a breath before gently pointing out, ¡°She doesn¡¯t seem to have any intention of harming your daughter, considering she¡­ summoned you to help the girl rather than leave her alone out there after their¡­ confrontation.¡± Though his face was sealed behind that metal armor, they could hear the smile in his voice. Everyone in the room had seen the recording of the ¡®fight¡¯ between Lightning Bug and Joyride, and how little actual danger either had been in. It was far more of an imaginative play-fight than anything else.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Hallowed, in his bright golden armor and metallic wings, spoke up while folding his arms across his broad chest. ¡°Can we talk about that whole ¡®summoned her¡¯ bit? Because that¡¯s what concerns me. It sounds like this little kid managed to teleport the leader of a Star-Touched team all the way from one side of the city to the other with a snap of her fingers. She didn¡¯t have time to set something special up at the time, so she must have had that in place already. Does that mean she could teleport anyone anywhere? Could she hit a button right now and teleport all of us in this room to Kansas? Or worse if she ever decides to be more violent? So far she hasn¡¯t really hurt anyone, but she obviously could. She has that teleportation tech, and the¡­¡± He paused as though unable to believe what he was saying. ¡°The giant robot dinosaur.¡±


    ¡°Toto,¡± Lucent put in. ¡°She called it Toto.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Toto,¡± Brumal flatly confirmed, head shaking. ¡°The girl has run circles around everyone who encountered her, stolen anything she wants, and demonstrated the ability to transport other people at will, as well as use a giant robotic dinosaur as a direct threat. If she intended to do real harm, we would be in trouble.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s the point, isn¡¯t it?¡± Trivial put in. ¡°She obviously doesn¡¯t intend to do real harm. She¡¯s been really gentle with everything she¡¯s done, considering what she¡¯s capable of. And she sent Lightning Bug¡¯s mother to pick her up. It¡¯s obvious that she¡¯s intentionally holding back. She wins, but she doesn¡¯t hurt anyone. And like we were just talking about, she exposed a murderer inside the Minority.¡±


    ¡°She would be an incredible asset on our side,¡± Silversmith pointed out, his tone curious. ¡°If we could somehow convince her to stop stealing things, can you imagine the amount of help she¡¯d bring to the city? Just being able to transport our people anywhere they needed to be instantly, as soon as trouble came up, all by itself, would completely revolutionize our work here in Detroit.¡±


    Hallowed shook his head. ¡°Except she¡¯s never shown any interest in helping us. Not beyond exposing Whamline or making sure Lightning Bug wasn¡¯t left by herself with those criminals. She¡¯s been pretty clear that her motivation is to steal things.¡±


    ¡°She steals from the rich, from corporations and wealth-hoarders,¡± Trivial pointed out. ¡°Should we really give that much of a shit?¡±


    Coughing, Caishen replied mildly, ¡°Those corporations are a large part of why Detroit has progressed as much as we have in the past twenty years. If they begin to see the city as not safe enough, they will take their business elsewhere. We cannot have her running completely amok and doing whatever she wants.¡± She paused briefly, before adding, ¡°That said, my daughter likes her. And is very¡­ enthusiastic when it comes to the idea of being her archrival. And I do believe she does not mean to harm anyone.¡±


    Lucent straightened up on his perch. ¡°Thus, what we have before us is the question of what to do about a young girl who is clearly physically capable of much worse harm than she has ever engaged in. She intentionally holds back, while using the bare minimum force necessary for her to achieve her¡­ goal of stealing from what she considers acceptable targets. What do we intend to do about that, precisely? We have proven inadequate at stopping the girl thus far, and I believe that escalating force to the level required to capture and detain her would cause more of a problem than it would solve. I, for one, would prefer to convince her to curtail her criminal efforts in exchange for compensation leading toward mutual benefit.¡±


    ¡°You mean you want to pay her not to steal things,¡± Brumal put in, giving the TONI bird a long look. ¡°Would she be a salaried employee, or would we simply do it on a contract-basis? Say, find a list of places we would prefer her not to steal from and pay a flat fee for each?¡±


    ¡°Your sarcasm is noted,¡± Silversmith informed her. ¡°And yet, with some adjustments, is that such a bad idea? Surely the companies involved would be willing to pay for such¡­ insurance against being directly attacked, and if such funds were pooled, it would be enough to pay this girl under what we could refer to as a mercenary contract for protection. Shift her from a Fell-Touched to a Sell-Touched and pay her for security against threats to these locations. We wouldn¡¯t technically be paying her not to steal from them, we would be paying her a ¡®security fee¡¯ to¡­ protect those locations. Including targets she herself might have hit. Those would appear to be our two options. We either escalate force beyond what she herself has demonstrated to reach a level of being able to potentially contain her, or we make an offer to cease her criminal efforts and attempt to eventually negotiate that into actual cooperation.¡±


    ¡°A vote then?¡± Lucent suggested. ¡°A raised hand¨Cor wing as the case may be, if you prefer escalating force against a newly-emerged juvenile Tech-Touched who has made a clear effort to avoid harming anyone.¡± He glanced pointedly around the room, waiting until no one had raised any hand. ¡°Ahem, and a raised hand or wing if you prefer attempting the diplomatic approach.¡±


    Silversmith raised his own hand, then watched as the others all did the same, including Lucent with one of his wings. Then he smiled behind the helmet. ¡°Okay then, now let¡¯s get into specifics. We¡¯ll contact each of the companies who have expressed concern and see what they¡¯re willing to offer.¡±


    ¡°Ah, how do we pass that offer onto the girl herself?¡± Trivial asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think she left her number lying around.¡±


    Caishen spoke flatly. ¡°Something tells me that won¡¯t be a problem. It won¡¯t be long before Joyride makes a spectacle of herself again.


    ¡°And personally, I find myself¡­ disturbingly curious to see what happens when she does.¡±


    *********


    During The Ministry Base Incursion


    The short, unassuming man stood just a hair over five foot seven, and would have been considered very slightly underweight. His short brown hair and hazel eyes were incredibly average, and he wore glasses with thin metal frames, as well as a simple suit of moderate worth and fit. Not too expensive, yet not too cheap. His job was to blend in. He was known as Alcazar, the word for a Spanish fortress or castle. One of the top lieutenants within the Ministry, his job was to attend to the security and protection of their various facilities throughout the state of Michigan.


    At that particular moment, Alcazar was sitting at his desk in an office in downtown Detroit. It was very late at night, but that was normal for him. His typical schedule found the man sleeping during the day, as most of his work was done at night. Night was when people tended to attempt to cause problems. He would sleep from roughly eight in the morning until early to mid afternoon, then spend time with his family until seven or so before making his way to one of his offices to start his actual job. It was a little after midnight just then, and he was looking forward to the next day (or later that day, rather), when he would cut his sleep short in order to visit his youngest son¡¯s school to watch the boy perform in a play. Eleven-year-old Karl was incredibly excited about his part, even if it wasn¡¯t a leading role. It was still important, and he had extracted a firm promise from his father (who he believed to be an architect) about being there.


    Alcazar had made arrangements to leave the office a bit early that day, getting home by five or so just to have enough sleep so he could enjoy the play and then take his wife out to lunch. That would be in another few hours, and he needed to get all the work he could done by then. Sitting at his desk, he flipped through a folder while typing an email to one of their contractors, arranging for a new shipment of steel beams for Project Carpenter. Very few people in the Ministry were aware of the colony of Touched Termites that had been brought into the city, but he was one of those few. And he worked directly with their spokesman (spokesbug?) in gathering the proper resources, providing them what they asked for. Which, in this case, was more steel for the termites to melt down with their fog-breath and then convert into a larger amount of the stuff for building purposes. Specifically, for building the structures within the city that the Ministry was contracting them to build.


    In the midst of his work on that, his nearby cell phone, sitting silently on the desk next to a pile of folders, abruptly went off. It rang audibly rather than buzz, which meant that it was coming from one of the few numbers he had programmed into the phone to bypass his normal silent mode. And that would only happen if this was an emergency.


    A slight frown found its way to the man¡¯s face as he reached out to answer the phone with a simple, ¡°What happened?¡±


    The words he heard made the man immediately stand, almost knocking his chair over in the process. ¡°What? Right now? How many? Lock down. Get everyone there. Alpha level priority. Have you contacted White and Gold? Do it, right now. Interrupt the play.¡± Even as he spoke, Alcazar was plucking a separate phone from his pocket, rapidly texting one of his contacts. ¡°Are they still in the building? Then lock down the entire area. Get a chopper in the air. Who¡¯s close? Yes, move that one over. Find the spot where they started from and be there to meet them when they evac. Do everything you can to hold them in that building until I get there, but be prepared to track them if they escape.¡±


    Taking the phone away from his ear, he held the second one up to the opposite side and spoke. ¡°Yellowbrick, I need a walkway. Yes, there.¡± He waited for a moment then before getting the go-ahead. Once that came, the man opened the door of his office. Beyond was what appeared to be a black void and an amber-colored path leading out into nothingness. Without missing a beat, he walked straight out onto the path. As always when doing this, the void itself felt cold, though not to the point of being a problem. It was like a chilly wind that made one hunch in on themselves a bit. Or typically did. In the current situation, he barely noticed.


    Striding quickly along the bridge through that void, the man made it precisely thirty feet. It was always thirty feet, no matter what the actual distance between the two connected doorways happened to be. Whether Yellowbrick was creating a path between two doors in the same building, from one building to another in the same city, or between two different continents, the bridge through the void was always precisely thirty feet. The void itself seemed to go on much further, as did the bridge. It extended off seemingly endlessly. But after walking that thirty feet (and only after walking, it wasn¡¯t visible before), a new doorway appeared in front of the man. It was the door into one of the supply closets within the Ministry¡¯s base under the local mall, and he didn¡¯t break stride at all before reaching out to grab the knob and pull it open as he stepped through. From an outsider¡¯s point of view, it would have looked as though he was simply stepping out of the closet, as they wouldn¡¯t see the void and bridge behind him. Yellowbrick¡¯s paths were only visible and accessible to people she wanted them to be visible and accessible to.


    The very instant he was in the base (stepping into one of the secondary labs where an unconscious Ministry security guard lay on the floor next to an overturned chair), Alcazar activated his power. He had no idea whether the intruders were still inside or not, but there wasn¡¯t time to waste finding out. As soon as he focused on his gift, the man could see the effects. The small lab around him shifted, the floor, walls, and ceiling turning somewhat fuzzy and wobbling like jello for a brief moment before completely transforming. The floor became beaten and cracked old wood, while the walls and ceiling were made of intricately carved stone. The door behind him, leading into the closet, became an ancient wooden type with a metal latch. The view through that half-open door revealed not the closet it was supposed to be or Yellowbrick¡¯s void, but a set of stone stairs leading down.


    The stairs would go nowhere. Or, more to the point, they would go everywhere. They would lead to a corridor, or another room, which itself would lead to more corridors and more rooms. That, in essence, was Alcazar¡¯s power. While he was using it, the structure he designated (the Ministry base, in this situation) would physically transform into the interior of a medieval castle or fortress. Not a specific one and never the exact same. More importantly, space itself was twisted and expanded within his affected area. Even if he only used it on a single room, the resulting castle interior would appear to stretch on forever. Every hall would lead to a new room, every new room to a new hall. No matter how far one walked, no matter how many doors they went through, there would be more and more in front of them. Eventually, they would loop back around to where they started. You could walk straight for a solid mile of corridors and rooms, go up six different flights of stairs at six different locations, then pass through a final door and find yourself right back where you had started from, height differences be damned.


    Alcazar and those he designated were the only ones who could properly navigate and leave the affected area. Now, if the intruders were still inside, they would be trapped. There would be no escape. And they would be answering questions very soon.


    The moment his power clicked into place, Alcazar walked through the opposite door, which would have led into the main hall adjacent to the stairs leading out of the base. Now it was about twice as wide as it should have been, which was right. There was also a hole in the wall near the base of the stairs, which was wrong. As soon as he saw that hole, Alcazar strode that way. It had to have been there before his power took effect. The hole wasn¡¯t a normal part of the structure, so his power hadn¡¯t taken it into account. It had built around it.


    Looking into the hole, he saw several of their security people attempting to dig through what had apparently been a cave-in about twenty feet in and upward. Undoubtedly intentional by the intruders to block pursuit.


    ¡°Hold,¡± he ordered, before sticking his hand through the hole to touch the dirt. This tunnel wasn¡¯t great for him. His power worked best on established buildings. With a bit of extra effort, he could affect something like this, but only within the immediate area he could see. Still, it would help somewhat. As his hand touched the dirt wall, the man released his focus on the rest of the base. Behind him, it reverted back to its normal condition (aside from the hole). Meanwhile, this area of the tunnel became another castle corridor. The area the guards were trying to dig through was transformed into a full-sized room. The dirt and rocks from the cave-in were still there, but the room was large enough for them to simply move around all of it. About ten feet past that room, the effect of his power faded and it became ordinary dirt once more.


    ¡°Go,¡± he ordered the men. ¡°Catch up with them if you can.¡± That was all he said, all he needed to say. Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, the men were off and sprinting.


    Turning away from the hole, Alcazar took one of the phones from his pocket as it buzzed. ¡°Yeah. Bring the chopper in from the east, sweep across the mall lot just in case they popped up there, but I think they started from further back.¡± He paused briefly, then grimaced. ¡°The construction site across the street, where they¡¯re building the hotel. It¡¯s been shut down for awhile. Focus there. Send the call to get our people over there right now.¡±


    Without another word, he disconnected the call. At nearly the exact same instant, the phone rang in his hand. Rang, not buzzed. A single word was displayed on the screen. No number, just a name. White. Minister White. She¡¯d gotten the message, apparently.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Alcazar answered. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here. They¡¯ve already left. The troops are in pursuit, through a tunnel leading to what I believe is the motel construction site. Yes, we have a police helicopter diverting there right now, eta twenty seconds. I have people loading up in a few of our cars to head them off above ground as well. Absolutely. We¡¯ll have a full sitrep for you when you get here. I have no idea what they took, I was about to look into it. Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    That was the end of the call, so he disconnected before looking back the way he had come. Unconscious figures littered the hall, and the rooms around him. Whoever this was, whoever had broken into the Ministry¡¯s base, they had come in here for something. But what?


    More importantly, who the hell were they? This attack came out of nowhere. The Ministry was¡­ well, not quite totally peaceful. But they were secure. Every Fell-Touched gang in the city either worked directly for them, or paid tribute to them and had enough informants within who would rat out anything like this. Well, almost every Fell-Touched gang. There were the Scions, but this wasn¡¯t their style. Leaving everyone alive? They¡¯d never do that.


    So again, who in this city had taken the time and care to secretly tunnel into the Ministry base, steal things while leaving everyone alive, and then leave? Whatever the answer, whoever they were, Alcazar was certain of one thing.


    They were just getting started.


    *********


    Sterling and Elena


    Standing on the edge of the road where the group who had invaded the Ministry base had gone sliding out of control and into the water beyond, Sterling Evans watched divers attempting to search the submerged wreck for anything useful. Raising his gaze toward the sky, he saw two helicopters combing the banks in either direction, their spotlights scouring for a sign that the intruders had come ashore. More of the Ministry¡¯s people were searching surrounding neighborhoods, talking to potential witnesses, digging through anything and everything they could find.


    There wouldn¡¯t be much. He knew that. This hit was too well-coordinated, too perfect. This wasn¡¯t an amateur outfit. They knew what they were doing, and had the training, equipment, and skill to pull it off without getting caught. How long had they been working in secret, building that tunnel leading straight to the mall? Weeks? Months? They had gone completely undetected, despite the security measures the Ministry had in place. Which meant they had been quiet, somehow digging that entire tunnel without making any more vibrations than cars passing overhead. And that implied powerful Touched-Tech, a surprise considering the Ministry themselves owned the only purely Touched-Tech group in the city, as well as the company responsible for transporting it safely. If such machines had been delivered or ordered here, he would have heard about it.


    This raised¡­ many questions.


    Stepping up beside him, Elena watched the water in silence for a moment. The two of them, to everyone else in the area, would look quite different than they appeared to themselves. Thanks to Elena¡¯s gift, others would see him as a bald man who resembled Principal Strickland from Back To The Future, while Elena had made herself a near dead-ringer for the character of Marion Ravenwood in Raiders Of The Lost Ark.


    After standing there with him in contemplative silence as they watched their people work for several moments, Elena quietly spoke. ¡°It was an excellent play, at least.¡±


    She was right, of course. The play had been excellent. At least, as much as they¡¯d seen of it. The lead had been one he¡¯d kept an eye on from back when he was still barely more than a background player, and Sterling¡¯s early faith that the man had strong potential had not been misplaced. Through his life, even as a near-nameless accountant for the Russo mafia under his now-wife¡¯s father, Sterling had had a way of predicting potential. To him, potential was a combination of natural talent, drive, and a bit of luck. The first two were what he looked for when it came to investments. Luck was something he could manufacture for them. A word in the ear of a basketball recruiter to visit a certain high school to see a student who would have gone unnoticed, leading to a starring role on an NCAA drive to a state championship, a moderate donation to the science lab of a university in order to ensure that a brilliant geneticist had the funding they needed to continue the research that had eventually led to saving many lives. Those and far more examples, many as subtle as bringing the right two people together at the right time, had allowed his life to progress to what it now was.


    Sterling knew he was lucky. He had no doubt about that. His brilliant, beautiful wife, his strong son, amazing daughter, and now potentially a second daughter whom he was coming to care about as much as his own biological children. A life as charmed as his had taken a lot of work and sacrifice to reach this point, but it was all worth it. As close as they had come to losing it several times, particularly when it came to Elena¡¯s father, and yet they had come through on top.


    Whatever it took, he would protect his family. He would continue to build this empire, would continue to strengthen and solidify it. When the time came, he wanted his children, all three if Izzy agreed to be adopted, to have the best possible foundation. He would, at some point, pass the keys to this kingdom to the three of them. And then he would see just how far they could take it. As solid as the Ministry was, as strong as it had become, he had no doubt that his children could take it further. They were who he built all of it for. Together, his family would create a legacy that would shape the state of Michigan, and far beyond, for a long time to come.


    Bah, he was getting ahead of himself. And perhaps swelling too much with pride for his family. It was far too easy to let his thoughts and hopes run away, like a poor child being dragged along by an overly-excited dog on a leash. He sounded arrogant to his own thoughts, which wasn¡¯t his intention. He simply¡­ wanted his family to build something truly lasting, something that could be passed down through their generations. As more and more superpowers emerged, as the world grew into this new era, things would change quickly.


    The truth was, Sterling Evans believed that it would not be long (relatively speaking) before states across the country, and even countries across the world, began to break up into smaller territories. Kingdoms of a sort, smaller areas protected by powerful Touched. The militaries and governments themselves simply could not keep up with so many random citizens gaining often incredibly destructive powers. There was no test they had to take, no money to be paid, no qualification in wealth, race, gender, orientation, or any other thing that had previously been used to prevent one group or another from gaining power. It could happen to anyone anywhere.


    Thus, Sterling believed that the old rules of society, of government power, would gradually break down as more and more people who would previously have been considered ¡®nobodies¡¯ or ¡®inconsequential¡¯ gained true power. He believed that the government¡¯s power would fail, and far more localized fiefdoms, of a sort, would rise. That was the entire point of the Ministry. That was their endgame, to have this structure in place so that when the inevitable collapse of government came, they would still be there in its place. They would keep Detroit, and Michigan beyond, safe and prosperous.


    And that goal was why he would not allow whoever this group was, whatever their intentions might have been, to escape judgment and punishment. If other groups, other organizations, saw that the Ministry could be hit like that, they would become emboldened. An example had to be made. They would be found, dealt with, and everyone would see that the status quo would be maintained.


    Whoever was behind this attack would find themselves regretting it, Sterling promised himself. Whatever their endgame, whoever they were, wherever they had come from, he would make an example of them. Every gang, every snake now poking their heads out with interest at the news that the Ministry had been attacked, would see what became of such people.


    With a nod to Elena, Sterling took the phone from his pocket, hitting the number to contact Alcazar back in the base itself. ¡°Talk to all of our people in every gang. Find out who knows something about this. Shake the bushes, kick the trash cans, call in favors, make every threat we need to make. Do everything you can until five o¡¯clock, then go home. Yes, Alcazar, I don¡¯t want to hear it. Go home at five, that¡¯s an order. Your son needs you at that play tomorrow. Karl¡¯s been looking forward to you being there too much for you to put it off. Do the work, then go home. We have plenty of people to keep searching while you¡¯re busy. Delegate, it¡¯s the only way to survive in this business. And tell Karl I said hi.¡±


    He paused then before nodding slightly. ¡°Yes. Yes, I do think our people will find something. There is someone in this city who knows the truth. There is a weak link somewhere, a link connected to the people responsible for this.


    ¡°And when we find that weak link, we¡¯ll snap the chain in half.¡±

 Interlude 22B - Meanwhile On Breakwater

    The drone passing over the island known as Breakwater was silent, while its physical appearance was masked by the thick clouds. Clouds which threatened rain, but had not amounted to more than a few drops just yet. Yet before the day was out, it would certainly become a deluge. Being an island in the middle of the ocean, rain was not exactly an uncommon occurrence. Its inhabitants had long-since learned to recognize the signs that a particularly strong storm was coming and seek shelter. From their various caves, holes, and more man-made shelters, these people who would have been (and once were) considered some of the most dangerous supervillains in the world would watch the rain when it came. For most, it was a welcome sight each time, as it meant they would have more fresh water collecting in the various tarps and bins they had set up for such a purpose. More water meant they could be more active, and even meant they could eat more food. Digesting food properly required water. When there was less water, even when they had food, it was dangerous to eat. They would dehydrate faster if they ate food without having enough water. Having as much as possible was important, and it wasn¡¯t always possible to get to the island¡¯s main river, or the various smaller streams that led off from it.


    There were three ready-sources of potable water on the island, if someone didn¡¯t want to go through the process of making the sea water drinkable. One was the river that ran through the center of the island. But the river, and the streams leading off from it, were often dangerous. Even if one avoided passing through claimed territory, there were those who hunted one another along its banks. After all, the people of this island had not been sentenced here for their ability to be nice to one another and get along. While the island was thirty-six miles long and sixteen miles wide, the river was only about nine miles in length, originating just north of the center, and angling southwest. Those nine miles were heavily protected either by various established and fortified camps of prisoners who had agreed to work together under the often dictatorial fist of their strongest and/or most dangerous member, or by rogue loners who ambushed anyone foolish enough to come into their view and look vulnerable. They had been removed from society for being monsters who killed, tortured, and destroyed lives. They didn¡¯t all stop and become better people simply because their only possible targets were others like them.


    The second source of decent water was the rain, like that which would soon be pouring heavily onto the island, ensuring that even those who stayed far from the dangerous river would survive. Even if they had to slurp from the heavy leaves the rain left soaked through, they could keep going.


    And the last real source was the supply drops, where large crates of not only water, but also food, medicine, and even entertainment were sent to the island. There were two different kinds of these drops. The first sent the supplies to the same location every time, regular drops that could be depended on. Like the easily-defensible spots of the river, the areas each of these drops were made had almost immediately become encircled and fiercely defended by the largest gangs of Breakwater prisoners. Though ¡®largest¡¯ wasn¡¯t saying much, given no gang on Breakwater had more than twenty members. They simply could not get along beyond that. Larger groups inevitably broke apart as their personalities clashed.


    In any case, these smaller groups sometimes did work out. They formed camps around where these drops were. The boundaries of these camps constantly fluctuated, as the various gangs fought to bring and keep as many of the steady supply drops within their territory as possible. Especially any supply drop within a near enough distance to the river for a gang to control both. Those were the single most dangerous parts of the island, as small-scale wars often broke out for control of them. A lot of blood had been shed in the name of holding onto the most coveted areas.


    But the second type of drop was far more interesting in some ways. Rather than being sent to the same location every time, these drops were random. The crates would simply be sent down first, then have their locations broadcast over the island¡¯s speaker system so that everyone would know where to go find them.


    Why did they do that? Because the people behind the island enjoyed mixing things up and seeing their prisoners fight one another. Which was why the crates with the most entertainment and extras beyond the bare necessities were often these random drops. The people behind Breakwater had long-since found that the island¡¯s inhabitants would fight the hardest for these extras. The prisoners saw water and basic food as possible to get in other places. They had fish, they had animals, they had ways of feeding themselves and drinking, even if it wasn¡¯t the best and wasn¡¯t easy. Books, though? Pillows and blankets? Batteries for their music devices and new music itself? Even cards and board games, and other ways of making the days go by. Those were what worked best to encourage the prisoners to go out and run into one another. They were what the people would most often fight and even sometimes kill for. So those were what was often put into the randomized drops. Even then, they often weren¡¯t really random. They were deliberately chosen in ways that would push so-called interesting groups or individuals together in order to create intriguing or exciting situations.


    After all, it was important that the prisoners entertain their eternal watchers.


    ¡°You¡¯re sending out a drop now, in this weather?¡±


    The question came not from one of the island¡¯s prisoners, and not even from the island itself. Rather, it came from a man standing in the hatchway of a small room located on a large military ship several miles away. His dark blond hair was cut short on the sides, though the top was a bit of a mop of curls. At a glance, he would have been guessed to be in his late thirties.


    Meanwhile, the man he was addressing appeared to be ten years younger, with black hair that was worn somewhat long, just past his ears. This one sat at a console, watching several monitors in front of him as the drone he had launched passed over the island they and those like them were charged with watching over.


    ¡°I¡¯m sending those Stars a little help,¡± the man at the console replied. ¡°They¡¯ve survived this long, it¡¯s about time they got something.¡±


    From the doorway, the other man made a noise in the back of his throat. ¡°You know what the orders were, Colin.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Colin confirmed. ¡°They can¡¯t get off the island because finding out people can be sent there would make everyone paranoid. And because this is our biggest ratings boost since this whole show started. I get it, Lyle.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± Lyle stepped into the room, shaking his head. ¡°All three of the Earths that we broadcast this Vile Island reality shit to have reported record numbers. Having those two on that island with all those people looking for them is gold to the Board. They are seeing cartoonish levels of dollar signs, my man. Before this happened, they were talking about doing some other big stunts to spice things up. I even heard a couple of them talking about possibly letting the people on this world watch the show.¡±


    Colin gave him a brief, disbelieving look. ¡°This world? There¡¯s no way that would fly. We¡¯d get shut down so fast the Boards¡¯ heads would spin if the people of this world knew the ultimate island prison was a goddamn supervillain Truman Show mixed with one of those battle royale flicks. Has the Board lost their minds, or did they just forget that that¡¯s the whole damn reason we broadcast to other worlds? Worlds where they know no version of Baldur exists so they can¡¯t rat us out to this version, I might add. If they¡¯re so paranoid about being caught they won¡¯t even broadcast to a world where another version of Baldur exists, how the fuck were they going to broadcast it here?¡±


    ¡°You got me, man,¡± Lyle replied with a shrug. ¡°All I know is they were talking about it. But since those two showed up, it¡¯s all about them. They want to see more. They want the prisoners to keep chasing them, keep fighting them. And it¡¯s not just views. People have been betting on this shit. On how long they last, on which of them will die first, how many they¡¯ll take out with them, whether they¡¯ll find a way off, all of it. And since the Board owns all of the official betting sites, they take a cut. I think they¡¯re getting visions of Scrooge McDuck¡¯s money bin. So trust me, if anything threatens that, they¡¯ll come down on us like a hammer the size of this ship. If they even get a whiff that we¡¯re about to fuck up their bottom line, they will shove the fist of God up our asses and rip our colons out the hard way.¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Colin retorted, ¡°I¡¯m not threatening their bottom line. Everything in the drop is kosher.  Nothing in there that isn¡¯t approved by the Board themselves. You know how hard it is to sneak something new into those crates. Everything has to be approved sixteen different times. All I did was give them some extra supplies to keep going, and send it near their last known location.¡±


    Lyle watched him for a moment. ¡°Let me guess,¡± he slowly put in while tugging a chair out to sit next to the other man at the console, ¡°you¡¯re not announcing the drop over the PA.¡±


    ¡°Rules are rules,¡± Colin pointed out, ¡°I have to announce it. Except I always get the grid mixed up. Is this area six-eleven or eleven-six? Oh well, I suppose if it turns out to be the wrong announcement, I can always correct it later.¡±


    ¡°After all the prisoners are sent in the wrong direction,¡± Lyle murmured with a very faint smirk. ¡°So those girls you like can get everything out of it and move on.¡±


    Colin turned back to the monitors then, watching as the drone targeted the area for its drop. ¡°Maybe I can¡¯t help those two get off the island, or tell anyone what¡¯s going on so they can get them out of there. But I can damn sure give them a little bit of a fighting chance to keep going. Especially after they¡¯ve made it this far on their own. You got a problem with that?¡±


    There was a very brief pause before Lyle offered him a sly smile. ¡°Nah. I¡¯ve got money riding on them getting out of this.¡±


    ******


    Irelyn Banners had not had a very good week, to say the least. Since the moment she and Trivial had ended up on this island, they had been fighting to survive. The best of the people here wanted to kill them. The worst¡­ well, she¡¯d rather not focus on that. There were cannibals and truly horrific monsters among the Breakwater inhabitants. Being evil was a requirement to be sentenced to this place. The population was one hundred percent hardened supervillains.


    Or rather, ninety-nine point nine percent. She and Trivial had thrown off that perfect score slightly.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The two of them had been moving around a lot, staying away from the gangs as much as possible. As confident as she was in her own abilities, and Hazel¡¯s, they couldn¡¯t stand up to all of these monsters at once. And if there was one thing that gave the assholes reason to work together, it was hunting for a common enemy. So, Irelyn and Hazel kept moving, finding various safe places to stay for a day at the most before moving on.


    At first, Irelyn had not expected to be on the island that long. Surely as soon as someone behind the multitude of cameras watching the place saw who they were, there would be an extraction. But as the hours and days went on, she very soon realized that there would be no help coming. The people behind those cameras didn¡¯t want to admit what had happened. If they let the public know that a couple of Star-Touched had been sent by some third party to this place, there would be panic about others being sent there. Or about people who were supposed to be here being transported off of it. There would be a huge mess for the people in charge, a potential shake-up of the whole system.


    So, Irelyn and Hazel were on their own. How they were going to get off this place was¡­ a question for later. Right now, they were focused on surviving. And on hoping that their teammates would raise enough of a fuss for a real investigation into their whereabouts to happen.


    She still cursed the fact that she had dropped her phone back when they first arrived. They¡¯d run into trouble almost immediately after realizing where they were, and in the ensuing fight, she¡¯d lost the cell. Now it was who the hell knew where. Not that it would¡¯ve helped that much anyway, given this island very obviously had no cell service, and no way to charge it. As evidenced by Hazel¡¯s phone. But still, it would have been nice.


    Just what the hell was going on that whoever was behind Paige¡¯s¡­ entire situation had ended up transporting them to Breakwater? Irelyn had no idea, but she knew who did. That Albert Elcott guy, the one who had posed as the agent who had processed Paige¡¯s adoption, and two others that same year. The man who had built the portal machine that transported himself as well as Irelyn and Hazel to this island to begin with. He had answers. If they could find him, if they could get him to talk, they would find out the truth.


    Unfortunately, finding him was hard when they couldn¡¯t even go anywhere without being hunted by the assortment of psychopaths who had been forced to make this island their home. The two of them were working on that. Right now, their best plan was to find a way to make it look as though they had either died or been taken off the island so that the search for them would fade. Once they didn¡¯t have so many people scouring this place for them, they could start their own search for Albert. He was here somewhere on the island. And whoever he had been trying to help get off the island with that teleporter would have the real answers. If they found Albert, they would find the truth about what was going on with Paige.


    But first, they had to survive. Which had led them here. At one point this had been a decent-sized stream, if not a full on river. But other prisoners had diverted the water with a dam in order to direct it to their own base years ago. Now it was a dry creek bed, about twelve feet across and two or three feet deep, like a ditch running through the ground for two miles or so. Sitting in the center of that creek bed right then was the latest cargo drop, a bright red metal crate six feet across on all sides. The parachute it had used to land safely lay nearby, connected via an assortment of cords.


    The intercom had lied. Though she had only been here a short time, Irelyn had quickly realized how the grid system worked, and where they were. Whoever was doing the announcement of the drop had inverted the numbers. Whether that was intentional or no¨Cit was intentional. She had to believe that. The fact that the drop had come practically right on top of them, yet the gangs who would have been after it were sent in a completely wrong direction couldn¡¯t have been a coincidence. The people in charge may have decided not to help them get off that island, but someone out there was deliberately sending them supplies.


    Unfortunately, it still wouldn¡¯t be as simple as just walking up and taking them. They weren¡¯t the only ones who had noticed the actual physical drop. Even as Irelyn crouched on the outstretched limb of a tree that hung over the dry creek bed, she could see two men approaching the crate. One was about six and a half feet tall, wearing a pair of ratty old jeans that were falling apart and a black tank top. The exposed parts of his brown skin were covered in dozens of small, crescent shaped white markings that ran across his upper chest, down his arms, across his face, and so forth. The other man was a few inches under six feet, with short blond hair and clothes roughly similar to his companion. They approached the crate, keeping a wary eye out for anyone trying to intercept their prize.


    It was now or never. Waiting until the two men had their attention focused on opening the crate, Irelyn (or Flea as she was in-costume) gathered herself before leaping that way. From her crouched position a good thirty feet away, she lunged straight to the men in a single bound. The taller man spun that way, but her foot collided with his chest and sent him flying backward six or seven feet before he fell to his back and skidded through the dirt even further.


    ¡°Haha, two for one!¡± the man¡¯s partner crowed while pivoting to face her. His hands began to glow brightly red. ¡°We get a supply drop all to ourselves and a tasty treat to play with.¡± Even as he said that, a pair of red rings of energy shot out from his extended hands, flying straight at Flea.


    Meanwhile, behind her, the man she had knocked down was picking himself up as his hand literally ripped one of the white crescent shapes from his own skin. As it was pried up, the mark transformed into a fully three dimensional shape, extending and growing into what amounted to a boomerang. Just as his partner let loose with those two ring blasts, the second man hurled that boomerang. Rather than fly straight at her however, the thing took off like a miniature drone of its own, flying up and to one side as tiny yet very dangerous and rapid laser blasts shot from it.


    With a snap of one hand, Flea sent a sword flying up and to the side, cutting through the ¡®drone¡¯ and sending it crashing to the ground. At the same time, she gave what was for her a very slight hop, carrying herself six feet to one side as the rings of energy shot through the space she had been in a moment earlier. The man fired several more times in rapid succession, but Flea was never where he expected her to be. Her quick hops carried her back and forth as he grew increasingly frustrated, firing those rings faster and faster.


    Then, as quickly as if a switch had been flicked, the man passed out. He collapsed abruptly, hitting the ground already snoring. Through those rapid few seconds, Flea had been using her stamina draining power, until he was so tired within even that brief amount of time that he literally fell unconscious while standing up and actively fighting. His body hit the ground and he started to snore.


    Meanwhile, the sword that she had tossed to cut through the small drone had been caught in midair, as Trivial appeared. Turning invisible for three seconds and teleporting one foot at a time might not have sounded like much, but it added up to a lot very quickly when she was coming up from behind the crescent-marked man. Especially when her ability to float several inches off the ground meant he never heard her footsteps. She had run up to a spot almost directly behind him, then turned invisible, taking a few more steps past the man before teleporting that single foot at the last moment to grab the sword. By the time he actually saw her, Trivial had spun back that way, putting the blade right up to his throat. ¡°Touch another of those crescents and I¡¯ll carve a new one that you can¡¯t rip off.¡±


    The man glowered that way, though he didn¡¯t move. ¡°You think you stand a chance on this island? You should give up now and ask for protection. Or maybe beg for it. Yeah, I like that idea. How about the two of you¡­ sorta¡­ tell me how¡­ far¡­ the dragon¡­ kicked the¡­ ehhhh¡­.¡±


    Trailing off like that after starting to speak exhaustion-inspired randomness, the man¡¯s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed not far from where his partner had fallen.


    ¡°I do like when they rant or monologue,¡± Irelyn noted. ¡°Makes it so much easier to put them to sleep. And it makes them say funny shit like that when it kicks in.¡± Glancing to the other woman, she added, ¡°Are we good?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Hazel confirmed. ¡°Just help me pull them up next to each other.¡±


    So they did, putting the two men side by side. Hazel knelt between them, putting one hand on each man¡¯s forehead. ¡°Remember, I only get to erase one minute worth of memory per person, per day, and I forget everything that happened in that minute too.¡± With that, she focused, then abruptly sank back with a gasp. ¡°What¨Cwha?¡± Her gaze snapped around quickly before realizing where she was, and the two unconscious figures lying on either side of her. ¡°Oh. I guess we won?¡±


    ¡°We won,¡± the other woman confirmed. ¡°And within the sixty seconds too, so if we move these guys somewhere else before they wake up, they won¡¯t have any memory of seeing us, or what happened here.¡±


    The two of them were interrupted by the sound of slow clapping. As their eyes snapped toward the source, a heavy-set pale-skinned man with long red hair and eyes that were jet black with no visible whites stepped into view from the treeline. ¡°Oh, excellent. Excellent indeed. Now I don¡¯t have to share.¡±


    As Irelyn took a step that way, he held up one hand. ¡°Bup bup. I assure you, I have seen more than sixty seconds of this situation. And even had I not, a word from me and every person on this island hears my voice. You come toward me, and I will ensure they all know where you are.¡± With those words, the man rubbed his hands together as his eyes turned from black to white, and both women felt the uncomfortable sensation as though their own hands were rubbing together. When he touched his neck while his eyes remained white, they felt a hand on their own necks. Not only could the man share his voice with the entire island, he could make anyone he wanted to within his line of sight experience the exact sensations either he himself, or anyone else within the same area, experienced.


    ¡°Now,¡± the man continued. ¡°We can come to an arrangement of course, one that does not necessitate that I share my bounty with anyone else.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not getting a damn thing,¡± Trivial informed him.


    Her words made the man chuckle low, his eyes shifting back from white to black as he ceased focusing on his power for the moment. ¡°No? Because from where I¡¯m standing, you both have very few choices. You could take me prisoner, but I¡¯m too far away right now for your little sleepy power to work, so you¡¯d have to get to me before I can speak the words that would summon every nasty fiend on this island right here. I promise, you can¡¯t fight all of them. And even if you did manage to take me prisoner, I¡¯d get the word out eventually. It seems to me your only chance is to do what you¡¯re told, or try to kill me. But you¡¯re just a couple of superheroes, you¡¯re too good and pure and perfectly innocent to do what¨C¡±


    In mid-sentence, the man was abruptly cut off. As was his head, which went tumbling off into the bushes. He¡¯d never had a single moment of warning before Flea, in one instantaneous lunge, had put herself right in front of him, slicing through his neck in a blindingly-quick slash.


    ¡°I carry swords for fuck¡¯s sake,¡± she informed his body as it fell one way, his head rolling off in a different direction. ¡°Did you think I don¡¯t know how to be lethal if I have to?¡± She looked down at his fallen form, murmuring, ¡°You know who that was?¡±


    Hazel nodded. ¡°Sharealike. He kidnapped four girls and three boys over a two year period before he was imprisoned here. Most of them didn¡¯t survive. The one who did is going to be traumatized for the rest of her life. Then he killed another thirteen people in one mass terror attack at a grocery store. When the police searched his apartment, they found his girlfriend. The one he killed when she tried to call the cops after she found out who he really was, just before the grocery store incident.¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± Flea confirmed. ¡°So if his fucking ghost thinks I¡¯m going to lose any sleep over him being dead,  he can think again.¡±


    With that, she gave a sharp flick of the blade and sent the blood away before looking over to her companion. ¡°Are we clear?¡±


    Cocking her head to the side, Hazel listened with her slightly enhanced senses. She wasn¡¯t exactly able to hear a fly land on a leaf, but it was the best they had. After a moment, she nodded. ¡°I think so, but we should hurry up and get away from this place. Those flipped coordinates are only gonna confuse people for so long.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Irelyn agreed, hopping away from the body, back toward the crate. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got in here.


    ¡°And hope it gives us what we need to hole up until this heat dies down, so we can go find Albert and smack some fucking answers out of him.¡±

 Interlude 22C - Double-Oh Eits

    This whole thing had always been stupid. It was so stupid, and dangerous. Ryder Towling knew that. He had known from the start just how bad it would be for him if he was caught doing something like this. Going into Sherwood territory undercover as a tutor so he could find out why Cup and Pencil wanted to find this Errol Fosters kid so badly? It was ludicrous. He¡¯d come in here repeatedly with no backup, no one who even had the slightest clue where he was, doing his best to snoop around without getting caught. If the Sherwood people realized that there was a member of La Casa in their territory¡­ Yet what choice did he have? If he was going to get the answers he¡¯d been looking for, he had to take a few risks.


    But he had never expected those risks to come to this.


    ¡°Last chance. Either tell the truth right now, or¡­ well, you should just tell the truth. Trust me, you don¡¯t want to face the consequences. I can get pretty creative.¡±


    Facing his interrogator, Ryder closed and opened his hands a couple times. He could feel sweat on his palms, and had to restrain himself from shaking them out or wiping them against his legs. To show fear would give them what they wanted, and he couldn¡¯t do that. Not if he wanted to get through this.


    ¡°Okay, fine,¡± he finally managed, speaking through a throat that had threatened to close up on him. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you¡­ I¡¯ll tell you the truth.¡± He took a deep breath, bracing himself before forcing himself to speak the words that his tormentor was waiting for so expectantly.


    ¡°The first time I ever kissed someone was when I was fourteen. She was a girl in my bio class who wanted to see if I umm¡­ if I kissed like a boy. It was while I was still, um, pre-op.¡±


    Hearing that, Arleigh Fosters whooped and thrust both arms in the air while leaning back in her seat at the kitchen table right next to him. ¡°Hah, told you losers, earlier than both of you! That¡¯s two points for answering the question, and two more points for beating you guys. Dude¡¯s first kiss truth was worth four points. Suck it.¡±


    Across the table, Micah Fosters, Arleigh¡¯s twenty-year-old brother who had actually asked the question before ¡®teasing¡¯ Ryder about facing the consequences, smirked a little. ¡°I don¡¯t think that fourth point counts.¡± He gestured to the thirteen-year-old boy beside him. ¡°Errol¡¯s not even fourteen yet. If he gets a kiss before his next birthday, that¡¯ll be an illegal point.¡±


    Glancing to the scrawny, stringy-haired blond boy with glasses, then back to Micah, Arleigh snorted in clear disbelief while waving a hand. ¡°Yeah, sure, dude. I¡¯m shaking in my boots at the possibility. Errol, when was the last time you physically, in-person spoke to a girl your own age outside of school?¡± Belatedly, she added, ¡°And off the school grounds. Truth or Dare, E. I¡¯ll spot you six points, minus one for every day it¡¯s been. Or you can go for a six point dare, your choice.¡±


    From the dangerous smile she gave then, the dare would probably have been a bad idea.


    Shrinking back in his seat slightly, Errol hesitated before slowly answering, ¡°Away from school and off school grounds? An hour ago.¡±


    While Micah guffawed, Arleigh let the front of the chair she had been tipping back on come back down with an audible thump. ¡°What? When did you talk to a girl?¡±


    ¡°Izzy,¡± Errol replied promptly. ¡°We had to talk about our project so we met at the library. You said away from school, you didn¡¯t say it couldn¡¯t be about school.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on!¡± Arleigh protested. ¡°It was implied! The whole point was, when was the last time you had a real conversation with a girl that she didn¡¯t have to have because of school.¡±


    With some effort, Ryder managed to resist the urge to elbow the girl beside him. Honestly, he didn¡¯t even think she was thinking about how she was treating her little brother. She wasn¡¯t intentionally trying to make fun of or embarrass him, it was just¡­ how she was. Not that that made it any better, really. And it made him wonder just how nasty she could be when she was trying.


    Micah, by that point, was shaking his head. ¡°Nuh uh, no take-backs. You said what you said. That¡¯s six points for Errol here. Not his fault you suck at phrasing things. It was an easy six points for your side. All you had to say was, ¡®when was the last time a girl chose to speak to you outside of school and for no school-related reason.¡¯¡±


    Yeah, okay, maybe they both just sucked, Ryder decided. Not that this was a new revelation. It hadn¡¯t taken him very long to decide that both of the older siblings were the sort of people whom he would quite gladly never have anything to do with if it wasn¡¯t absolutely necessary.


    And yet, was it absolutely necessary? The thought drifted through his mind briefly before he dismissed it. Yes. If he wanted real answers about the whole Errol situation, and he did, then it was necessary. He had to keep sitting here, playing their stupid points-based Truth or Dare game for as long as it took to get his other work done. Work that would have been finished already in most houses, but for this one he had to be extra careful. He has spent several visits over these past few weeks mapping out the house as best as he could. Specifically mapping out not only the cameras he¡¯d been able to spot, but every plant as well. Here in Sherwood territory, all flowers, cacti, vines, potted plants of every variety could be a spy. He¡¯d had to come here multiple times, using secret cameras in his backpack he could study the video in an attempt to find a route through the house that didn¡¯t involve passing any plants that could¡¯ve spotted an intruder.


    Luckily, the intruders he had in mind were only about five inches tall.


    Even with all his planning, walkthroughs, and the videos of his time in the house, this whole thing would¡¯ve been impossible if it wasn¡¯t for one thing. The Roomba. Every time he¡¯d visited, stood in the kitchen to talk to one of the others, gone upstairs to tutor Arleigh, every time he was around, Ryder had noticed a Roomba busily doing its work somewhere in the house. It was one of the newer models with the ability to hover so it could more easily get around obstacles or go upstairs. Which was pretty important when it came to his plan.


    Unfortunately, the only time the Roomba went upstairs, as far as he had seen, was right when he was normally leaving. Which really didn¡¯t work for him, and was what led to this whole situation. Managing to maneuver himself an invitation to stay for dinner without being obvious about it had taken some time and a bit of luck, but now he was here. Even better, their father wasn¡¯t here. He¡¯d told them to order a couple pizzas and not to stay up too late or turn the music up so loud that it would bother ¡®them.¡¯ The Sherwood people, obviously. How the Fosters managed to maintain even relatively calm relations with the infamously technology-hating gang when their dad was so deeply tied to the tech-delivering company Taurus was still a mystery.


    Well, actually, money. The answer was probably money. No matter how much Sherwood hated technology, Ryder was willing to bet they put it aside for a certain amount of cash. And lord knew the Fosters had cash. Not Evans-level cash, but then again, who else was that loaded?


    Either way, the Roomba was the key. While he and the Fosters had been sitting around the table playing the stupid game as they waited for the pizza to be delivered, Ryder listened and watched for the little robot vacuum to buzz by on its way under the table. That was the only totally clear spot here in the dining room. There were two cameras that could each keep the entire area they were sitting at in view, and no less than five potential spy plants. He didn¡¯t know that they were being watched by the plants, but it was a possibility. And that was too dangerous. Even if the Sherwood people weren¡¯t on good enough terms with the Fosters to say anything about seeing the innocent, nobody tutor snooping around using tiny energy gremlins, they sure as hell would have a few words to say to Ryder about it. He¡¯d be throwing his secret identity away, letting Sherwood know who he was, and exposing himself to all sorts of trouble.


    Thus, waiting until the Roomba went under the table. As it did, he shifted his position just a little as though turning to look at Arleigh. In the process, the boy summoned four of his so-called mites (miniature invaluable technology elves). The quartet of tiny figures were crowded on his hand, but they knew to stay silent rather than make their normal cackling shrieks. This was a stealth mission. As soon as the Roomba passed by beneath his outstretched hand, they leapt off and fell onto the thing, disappearing inside it right before the robot exited out the far side of the table and back in view of everyone.


    So far so good. Managing not to let his relieved exhale be too obvious, Ryder spoke up. ¡°Are you sure the pizza guy¡¯s gonna be okay coming through this area? I mean¡­ you know.¡± Even as he was saying that, he was also viewing things through the eyes of his mites. Or rather, through the Roomba they were possessing.


    He may have been just this side of useless in a direct physical confrontation, but if there was one thing Ryder actually was good at, it was multitasking. It was literally a superpower, allowing him to carry on his own actions and engage in full conversations with the people around him while also seeing and directing his mites off on their own things. He couldn¡¯t really describe what it was like to see things through multiple sets of eyes at once, let alone how it felt to direct multiple different actions at the same time. It felt like acting as himself but multiple times and all at once.


    Yes, it was weird. But it was also quite useful. During official missions with the rest of La Casa, he could monitor multiple possessed cameras, doors, vehicles, and more all at once with no problems of having to divide his attention. Every mite he had active was another completely separate focus that he could keep track of all at once.


    While the Roomba slowly made its way out of the kitchen (he couldn¡¯t exactly just take control and direct it straight where he wanted the thing to go without being too obvious), Arleigh snickered. ¡°You mean those nature-loving pussies? Don¡¯t worry, they know better than to mess with our food.¡± Turning a bit as though looking at one of the nearby flowers, she added, ¡°They¡¯re not as tough as they think they are.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    With a sigh, Micah muttered, ¡°Don¡¯t antagonize the gang, Arleigh.¡±


    ¡°Oh please, they¡¯re not always watching.¡± Arleigh rolled her eyes before glancing to the boy beside her. ¡°They just want people to think they are. They love to make everyone paranoid.¡±


    While all that was going on, the Roomba with its stowaways trundled along out of the kitchen and did several passes through the small area in front of the stairs. Much as he wanted to send the thing straight to where he needed it now, what Ryder absolutely did not want was for Mr. Fosters or anyone else who happened to review the camera footage from today for any reason to notice something amiss. Everything had to look as normal and mundane as possible. Still, he couldn¡¯t help but hurry it along a bit. The thing still followed its normal route, but did so faster than usual. He really doubted anyone paid quite that much attention.


    So, before long, the Roomba made its way up the stairs, hovering onto each one to vacuum it in turn. Speeding the thing up slightly without running out the motor or attracting attention, Ryder continued to focus his own physical body¡¯s attention on the others, offering a shrug. ¡°I guess if you think it¡¯s okay. Pizza guy wouldn¡¯t agree to make the delivery if it was that dangerous, right?¡±


    Errol spoke up a bit hesitantly, ¡°Yeah, they know what sort of rules to follow. They come in, deliver things, then leave. There¡¯s um, a list of license plates and people who aren¡¯t allowed to deliver in this area anymore because they broke the rules.¡±


    ¡°And the place we order from has a good rep,¡± Micah put in. ¡°So don¡¯t worry your little head off, my man. It¡¯s all gonna be fine.¡±


    At that point, it was Errol¡¯s turn to offer a truth or dare to one of the two sitting across from him. After giving his sister a brief look while she stared him down, the boy instead focused on Ryder. ¡°Truth, what do you want to be when you grow up? I mean, when you graduate and all.¡±


    While Arleigh made a noise that was halfway between a groan and a laugh, Micah spoke up. ¡°Oh come on, dude. You can do better than that. That¡¯s the wussiest question ever. We¡¯re not five years old. Here.¡± He leaned over and whispered something in the younger boy¡¯s ear.


    Errol hesitated after hearing it before sighing. Focusing on Ryder once more, he tried again. ¡°Okay, okay. What do you want to be when you grow up for one point, and for one point each, name three jobs you¡¯d rather die than take.¡±


    With a visible smirk, Micah shrugged while drawling, ¡°Kid still really doesn¡¯t seem to get the point of Truth or Dare, but we try to keep things light for him. Consider this a freebie. But be warned, next time it comes back to us it¡¯ll be my turn again and I will make up for my brother taking it easy on you.¡±


    Right, this wasn¡¯t that hard. And even if it had been, there was no way that Ryder was going to request a dare. Not when everyone in the room was allowed to make suggestions. He already knew that the older two Foster siblings had plenty of what they would consider interesting ideas on that front. So, he hesitated only slightly before replying, ¡°Well, as far as what I want to be when I grow up¡­¡± Several thoughts ran through his mind, most of which he couldn¡¯t say without exposing too much about his true extracurricular activities. ¡°I kinda want to be a chef. Like, a pastry chef. I want to make super-delicious treats that people pay a lot of money for. You know, the kind they serve in five-star restaurants and charge ridiculous rates for. Not really for the money or fame or anything. I don¡¯t think pastry chefs get famous no matter how good they are. But because I want to make those obscenely rich people pay absurd amounts of money for my cakes and things, then turn around and sell stuff that¡¯s just as good to completely normal public high schools for like¡­ pennies. Just because I can.¡±


    While saying that, he was also focusing on the Roomba. It had made it up the stairs and was heading into Micah¡¯s room. The door opened for the little robot automatically, allowing the thing to get in there and do its work. Ryder had only been in that room once, so he had to be careful. Watching through the Roomba¡¯s camera, he waited until it went under the bed, then made one of his mites hop out. The thing would only have a few seconds of life before vanishing, so he had to be quick. On the way through, he¡¯d taken note of the two plants in the room. One was a small flower up on a shelf by the door, while the other was a cactus sitting in one corner. As long as he had the mite stay under the bed until it reached the end, then use the desk for cover, he could get it around to the back of that desk and up into the computer without being spotted.


    At the same time, the Roomba had finished its work and went out into the hallway. From there, it went through Arleigh and Errol¡¯s rooms, and he did pretty much the same thing. Getting his mites into the computers of all three Foster siblings, all while continuing on to detail the three jobs he¡¯d rather die than take (veterinarian, police officer, pest control).


    Then it was his turn to ask a question. Honestly, he¡¯d rather just pass and focus more on what he was doing, but he had to keep up the ruse. So, after thinking about it for a moment, Ryder looked at Micah. ¡°Truth, if you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?¡±


    Rather than respond immediately, the older boy seemed to consider for a few seconds. Then he offered a slow smile before replying, ¡°Dare.¡±


    Well that was a little surprising. Why would the boy rather do a dare, one he had to know his sister would jump on, then answer the question of where he¡¯d like to live?


    Sure enough, Arleigh was already bouncing up and down, delighted about getting a chance to do a dare against her older brother. As soon as the boy confirmed he would be going with that, she bolted off the seat and began to prepare some sort of concoction in the kitchen that she was going to make him drink.


    Yeah, that sounded gross, but whatever. It gave Ryder a moment of peace, and he took full advantage of that. The Roomba had made it to its main target, the office that he had never been allowed to go into. It was Trey Fosters¡¯ office. Arleigh, Errol, and Micah¡¯s father. And here, he had to be even more careful, using the Roomba¡¯s camera to watch for anything that could spot his last mite. From what he could tell, there was only one spot under the desk that would be out of sight of the large floor to ceiling plant in the corner by the window (which itself had a large tree visible through the glass). He waited for it to be there, then had the mite hop out, shimmy along the corner of that desk, then slip through a hole for a cord and into the actual computer.


    He had done it. All four of the computers had his mites in them,  and he was pretty sure no one knew about it. Now all he had to do was have them download all the files from those computers to the beefy ten terabyte USB drive in his pocket. He doubted he¡¯d need that much, but he¡¯d wanted to come prepared.


    While his mites did their work, Ryder focused on making as queasy a face as he could. It wasn¡¯t that hard, considering he could see some of the things Arleigh was putting in that drink. ¡°Are you sure you want to taste that?¡±


    ¡°I think you underestimate me, tutor-guy,¡± Micah retorted. ¡°Believe me, if there¡¯s one thing you should know, it¡¯s this.


    ¡°I play for keeps.¡±


    *******


    He should have brought a bigger USB drive. As it was, Ryder ended up having to focus mostly on the files from Trey Fosters¡¯ computer. That by itself had ended up being a full six and a half terabytes. The rest of the space he¡¯d split up among the other three as evenly as possible, getting all the files he could with a focus on anything that mentioned Touched, the Scions, Errol¡¯s name, and so on.


    He didn¡¯t really look at what he¡¯d gotten in the process. Even his multitasking ability only went so far, and he didn¡¯t trust himself to keep a poker face if he found something important. So, he waited until he was safely done eating, out of that house, in his car, and far from the Sherwood neighborhood before pulling over in a parking lot next to a bookstore. Then he used a cord to plug the USB drive into his phone and started to look at what he¡¯d found. It would take a long time to sort through it all, of course, but he wanted to get at least a first glance.


    Using one of his mites for help, Ryder searched through the video files from all the security footage that had been on Trey¡¯s computer. He had his little buddy search specifically for any moments in the audio that mentioned Errol and the Scions within thirty seconds of each other.


    There, a conversation had been recorded inside the office about a week earlier. Quickly, after glancing around reflexively to ensure that he was still alone in the dark parking lot, Ryder told it to play on his phone screen from a point a few seconds before those keywords were mentioned.


    Two people were standing in the office when the video started. One was Trey Fosters himself, a dark-haired man in his early forties who clearly spent a lot of time working out. The other, meanwhile, was a nondescript red-haired man with a neatly trimmed goatee and dark eyes.


    ¡°You know why Cup and Pencil are after my son?¡± Trey was asking, standing behind his desk with his attention laser-focused that way. ¡°Then don¡¯t keep me in suspense. Or do I have to say pretty please, Minister Gold, tell me why the Scion psychopaths have been trying to find my son all this time?¡±


    Minister Gold? That was a weird¨Cshaking that off, Ryder focused on listening.


    ¡°Yes, Hemlock, we do,¡± came the response.


    Despite his resolve to focus, Ryder quickly paused the video. Hemlock?! Arleigh¡¯s father was Hemlock, second-in-command of Sherwood? Did she¨Cdid they¨Cof course they knew. That was¡­ that was why they¨Coh. The man who was so big in the technology delivery game was second-in-command of the gang that hated technology? What the fuck was that about? Why¨Chow would¨Coh.


    Oh. Big oh. He hadn¡¯t just stolen information and files from some random family inside rival gang territory. He¡¯d accidentally stolen identity-revealing information from the gang itself. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He didn¡¯t mean to. Could he¨Cno. No, he couldn¡¯t apologize. They didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d done, and if they found out, they weren¡¯t going to listen to him try to claim he hadn¡¯t done it on purpose. Oh God. Wait, did that mean Arleigh was¨Cshe couldn¡¯t¨Cwait.


    Shaking those thoughts off for the moment, he hit play once more. However reluctant he was to do so, after he¡¯d done all this already he might as well get the answers he¡¯d been looking for.


    ¡°It took some digging,¡± that Minister Gold was saying, ¡°but it turns out Errol¡¯s birthparents, Colette and Shane Elbrecht, were old college roommates and friends of Rodney Barlow. AKA Overseer.¡±


    Overseer. Ryder had heard that name before. He¡¯d been a huge threat in Wisconsin about seven years earlier. Wisconsin to start anyway, but with enormous potential to become a national problem, with his power to touch anything that came off a person¡¯s body, like their hair, blood, sweat, and so on, and ¡®charge¡¯ it. When a body part was charged, Overseer could see through that person¡¯s eyes, hear what they heard, and even control them like they were an extension of himself. But even worse than that was the fact that if he got enough body parts, he was able to fashion them into small dolls. And those dolls could be used by anyone, even someone without powers, to control the person in question.


    Needless to say, Overseer had been a real target. He¡¯d risen up the Fell-Touched ranks, been a problem for awhile, and then disappeared. There were a lot of rumors about Touched on both sides of the fence banding together to get rid of him before he became too much of a threat, given he could control all of them if he¡¯d gotten his hands on enough of their hair and other bits.


    ¡°From what we¡¯ve been able to put together,¡± Minister Gold was saying, ¡°Cup and Pencil have gotten their hands on a DNA-locked safe from the Elbrechts. We believe that inside that safe are various¡­ dolls their old friend left in their care.¡±


    ¡°Dolls,¡± Hemlock echoed. ¡°You mean Overseer¡¯s dolls, the ones he was making on his way to come play in this town before you sent your dogs after him.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Gold replied. ¡°Which means if Pencil and Cup manage to open that safe, they¡¯ll have access to every doll he stored in there.


    ¡°And they¡¯ll be able to control potentially every Detroit Touched who existed back then.¡±

 Enkindle 23-01

    Things hadn¡¯t changed at all after I slept for a few hours. Nor did they after I splashed water on my face rather aggressively three or four times, or after I took a long hot shower. Even after all of that, as I got dressed, the situation was the same. Raige had her new body, and it looked identical to my body. She looked like me. Well, a blonde me with glasses and all, but still. How was I supposed to deal with that? What was I even supposed to do with it? I had no idea. I just¨CI couldn¡¯t even think about it without my brain showing one of those old television test patterns. I thought I had been prepared for her to look like another Paige, even a younger Paige. It had occurred to me that a prototype body might look like a kid version of Paige. Or some random person. But a body that looked like me? It had never even crossed my mind as a vague possibility. I was completely dumbfounded by that whole situation, even now that I had gotten some sleep. If anything, I felt even more flummoxed by it. I just¡­ couldn¡¯t deal.


    Once I was in the hall outside the bathroom once more, Izzy was there waiting. She glanced toward me, then down the hall where the stairs were before shaking her head. She didn¡¯t need to say anything. I knew what that meant. There was no sign of my parents. They were either still upstairs and hadn¡¯t come down yet, or they had yet to come home. Given the situation we had left them with, I was going to bet on the latter. I was pretty sure it had been a long time since someone¨Canyone actually struck a blow against them at all, let alone got away with it. And given my parents weren¡¯t standing in front of me demanding I tell them what the hell I was doing, they clearly hadn¡¯t gotten any actual answers from their investigation so far. So, yeah, they were probably still out there working on it.


    Okay, was it weird that I felt a little bad about costing them sleep? Sure, part of me was glad for it, a little vindictively. But another part felt guilty. Why did I feel guilty about that? It was a tiny cost for them, basically inconsequential. And yet, I couldn¡¯t entirely shut it out, even after telling myself how stupid it was. My brain wouldn¡¯t listen to itself. Which felt unfair, though unsurprising.


    Shaking that off, I nodded at Izzy before starting to walk that way. We didn¡¯t go upstairs, of course. Those rooms were for my parents, and I had no reason to be there for the moment. The very last thing¨Cokay one of the last things I wanted right then was for Mom and Dad to be told by the staff that I was snooping around. Given how paranoid they were bound to be after last night, I felt like they weren¡¯t likely to dismiss anything like that. So, tempting as it had always been for me to go looking through their rooms for anything important and then just say that I was looking for them if anyone found me, now was probably not the best time. They would be on hyper-alert for anything out of the ordinary.


    Which was why we were going down to eat breakfast and then go to school. Even though I really didn¡¯t want to, there was no choice. I¡¯d rather curl up in bed for another three hours or so, and then get started dealing with all the everything that was waiting for us at Wren¡¯s shop. But if my parents got a call that I had skipped school, that would be something out of the ordinary for them to pay attention to. Again, we had to avoid any suspicion right now. While they were dealing with the break-in, I needed my parents to think that everything back here at home was perfectly normal. We couldn¡¯t give them any reason whatsoever to suspect that there might be something going on here, or just with us in general. There was too big of a chance that the whole house of cards would fall apart.


    So, we ate breakfast and took the ride from Jefferson to school. On the way, I checked the news on my phone. I wasn¡¯t expecting to see anything about what had happened and I didn¡¯t end up being surprised. There was a lot of stuff about the gang war and all that, even a bit about a car chase involving a van and several vehicles that had ended with the van in the water. But it didn¡¯t go into any details other than that, and was stuck in the middle of an article about general violence in the city. Obviously, my parents weren¡¯t going to let any details about what they knew get reported in the public news. So I checked for any social media posts about it, and got a couple vague ones that mentioned the ¡®police chopper¡¯ chasing the van. Other than that, it was all pretty much the same.


    Putting my phone away, I glanced toward Izzy before looking to the front. The partition was up, giving us privacy back here. And, well, giving Jefferson privacy up there. Shifting in my seat to use the intercom button, I waited for the beep before asking, ¡°So how late did the play go last night? Should I feel bad that I wasn¡¯t there, or glad that I can actually sit through school today without getting in trouble for falling asleep?¡± Boy, was it hard to get through that with a straight face. But it was even harder to get through it without yawning, which would¡¯ve been even worse.


    There was a very brief pause before Jefferson¡¯s voice replied, ¡°It was nearly two in the morning when the play ended. I can hardly believe your parents would actually have allowed either of you to attend on a school night.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I think that was mostly Dad not thinking,¡± I replied easily. Again, I had to stifle a yawn. ¡°But hey, maybe he would¡¯ve convinced Mom that we should all stay home and sleep this morning. You think he¡¯ll get up before noon?¡± I figured that was innocuous enough, a way of looking more like I was teasing my dad rather than probing for information.


    Again, there was a brief pause before he responded. ¡°I believe your father was up and leaving for the office slightly before you appeared for breakfast, Miss Evans. He is very punctual when he wants to be.¡± There was a note of pride in his voice then, given his own preference for punctuality. Then he added, ¡°Though I cannot say for certain what he will do once he arrives at the office, and he does have a quite comfortable couch.¡±


    Making a show of giggling a little, I let go of the intercom and leaned back to glance at Izzy. Neither of us said anything. We weren¡¯t that stupid. We had talked a little bit before sleeping, and some more when the alarm dragged us out of far too little sleep. Now, all we did was nod very slightly before starting to talk about utterly inconsequential things. If anyone had actually been eavesdropping, I was pretty sure they would either give themselves a concussion falling asleep, or claw out their own ears to get away from the mundane teenage girl talk.


    Eventually, we reached the high school and I said goodbye to both Izzy and Jefferson  before hopping out. Without looking back, I started walking to the front door, as though it was just another ordinary day like any other. Some people waved and greeted me with a word or two, and I returned it before heading inside. Normal. I had to look normal. No seeming paranoid, no jumping every time someone said my name, no acting like that guy walking past was sent by my parents to grab me because they had figured everything out and wanted to have a discussion about it in person. Normal. Totally normal.


    ¡°Cass!¡± Amber called out, nearly giving me a heart attack as she popped into view. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ve gotta show you something.¡± With a flick of her finger as though beckoning, she pivoted and walked toward the entrance of the library. ¡°There¡¯s no way we¡¯re not getting those bonus points.¡±


    The two of us made our way through the library, heading upstairs and back to the reference section. This early in the day, there was no one back there. Well, almost no one.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Paige spoke up, rubbing the back of her neck as she turned away from the large encyclopedia she had been looking at. ¡°Uh, well I guess the first thing I should say is that Raige went for a walk.¡±


    That made me do a quick double-take. ¡°I¨Cshe what? She went for a walk? As in out in public?¡±


    Paige shrugged a little, lowering her voice. ¡°She said she had to get out and look around, stretch her legs, that sort of thing. And that she was going to get some more things to disguise herself, like colored contacts and spray tan. She had to get out of there. After all that time stuck on the couch, I can¡¯t really blame her. And I¡¯ve actually been free to walk around before. It¡¯s her first time outside of sharing my memories.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s her first time. Do you really think she¨C¡± Stopping myself, I exhaled. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m just¡­ kinda paranoid, I guess.¡±


    ¡°You have reason to be,¡± Amber put in, gesturing back and forth between the two of us. ¡°And Paige has reason to want to trust her¨Cyou know, sister? Sort of? Even if she looks like¨Cthis is weird.¡± Her face twisted a little as she thought that through before settling on, ¡°Really weird.¡±


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    ¡°You can say that again,¡± I muttered. With a sigh, I added, ¡°But I get it. She¡¯s not a prisoner, and we can¡¯t treat her like one if we want to keep this whole allies thing going. Your dad already fucked her over and made her turn on him, I don¡¯t want to be the same as that creep. Or even vaguely similar. I¡¯m just a little weirded out by the idea that there¡¯s some girl out in the city right now who looks like me. Even if she¡¯s in disguise. It¡¯s just¡­ I guess it is like having a twin. And right now, my parents seeing a twin of me would be a real fucking disaster.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Paige assured me. ¡°Raige knows better than to go anywhere near them. Your parents are gonna be too busy dealing with everything that happened last night to go eat breakfast in some random dive, or walk through a completely different mall. Or whatever else Raige does. It¡¯s a big city with a lot of people. As long as she doesn¡¯t do anything to draw a bunch of attention to herself, she will practically be invisible. And I know how it sounds when I say that, but even Raige knows how to be subtle, believe me. She¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    It kind of sounded like she was trying to fully convince herself of that, but I left it alone. There was no use worrying about something I couldn¡¯t affect right now anyway. Instead, I took a breath before focusing on Paige herself. ¡°You know this whole thing is going to be weird too, right? I mean, you being back at school and all that. People are going to wonder if the two of us aren¡¯t at each other¡¯s throats all of a sudden. It¡¯ll be something weird and different, and stuff that¡¯s weird and different might get back to my parents. It¡¯s a little more complicated than two plus two to figure out what¡¯s actually going on, but I feel like them knowing that you know something about their business and all of a sudden the two of us are all buddy buddy might just¡­ give them too much to work off of. They might not get all the way to four, but I don¡¯t particularly want them to know that there¡¯s any addition to be doing at all.¡±


    Grimacing a bit, Paige nodded. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fair. I just¨Cyeah, we¡¯ll have to fake it. I mean, I was always faking it, so that won¡¯t change for me. But¨C¡± She stopped, giving a low sigh. ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s weird. I always thought that¡­ that at least after my birthday, I wouldn¡¯t have to act like that anymore.¡±


    ¡°You thought that because you were planning on being dead,¡± I shot back. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go out on a limb and say pretending to hate me and act like a psycho cunt who picks apart my insecurities is at least better than being dead.¡±


    Paige, in turn, coughed. ¡°I do prefer being alive. I just¨CI hate that my dad¡¯s bullshit still has to affect me even now. I just want to shove him out of my mind, but I¨Che¡¯s¡­ I still have to act the way he wanted me to act, just so your parents don¡¯t get suspicious about things. And we still have to deal with him because Irelyn and Trivial are stuck out there. Which, for the record, I looked up everything I could find about Breakwater, and no one has said anything about anyone being there who shouldn¡¯t be, let alone a couple Star-Touched.¡±


    My mouth opened, before I stopped and looked toward Amber. ¡°Uh, wait, you know what¨C¡±


    ¡°I told her,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°Earlier this morning. I don¡¯t¨C I¡¯m going to try not to tell anyone else in the group, if possible. Not yet, anyway. That¡¯s just too many people to spill Irelyn¡¯s secret to. But I thought having Amber involved would help. Four heads are better than three, or something.¡± She raised one shoulder in an absent half-shrug, clearly focusing mostly on the actual problem itself, her missing adopted sister.


    ¡°Right, I know about that. But my question is, how is that even possible?¡± Amber demanded. ¡°Them being trapped there, I mean. They have to have people watching the island, right? How could they have two Star-Touched running around there and not notice them?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they did notice and just don¡¯t care, or think it¡¯d be a bigger controversy to get them off it,¡± I muttered a bit darkly. ¡°The big thing about that place is that no one who isn¡¯t supposed to be there can find it, and no one imprisoned there can get off, right? It¡¯d probably be a pretty major hit to the place¡¯s reputation if people found out that someone managed to send a couple Star-Touched there. Or anyone there. Which¨Chow did they get there? We still don¡¯t know. We don¡¯t know anything about all that.¡±


    While Paige grimaced, Amber spoke up. ¡°We¡¯ll find out what happened. I, uhh, I¡¯m not sure how yet, but we will. We just have to take this whole thing one step at a time. Getting Raige her own body was a step. Now we¡¯ll figure out what the next one is. If they are hiding the fact that there¡¯s two people stranded on Breakwater, maybe we can get the word out about that. You know, anonymously.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure how that would work, or why anyone would believe rumors like that. But instead of naysaying, I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll think about it. And we¡¯ve got all those papers and files to go over still. Probably won¡¯t help with this thing directly, but maybe they¡¯ll have something about your dad from when they caught him, you know?¡± I looked to Paige then. ¡°Something we can use.¡±


    ¡°What about your pare¨CI mean your adopted parents?¡± Amber asked the other girl. ¡°We still have no idea where they are, right? What¡¯s the school gonna say?¡±


    Paige shrugged. ¡°Not much. As far as they¡¯re concerned, they already talked to Mr. Banners over the phone and he apologized for keeping me away for so long. But¡­ yeah, we don¡¯t know where they are. I never knew what my father was going to do after all that went down. They haven¡¯t¡­ found their bodies or anything, so¡­¡± She shifted, looking uncomfortable. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I wish I did.¡±


    We talked a little bit more about all that, and other stuff, but hadn¡¯t come up with anything substantially useful by the time we had to go to class. Amber and I let Paige go first so we wouldn¡¯t be seen walking together. After she headed out, I looked at the other girl. ¡°I kinda feel like I could fall over and die for ten hours or so. And thinking about all the things we still need to deal with isn¡¯t helping.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± she replied, ¡°I almost threw my alarm clock out the window this morning. You have no idea how tempting it was to just call in sick. Err, well I guess you do.¡±


    ¡°I definitely do,¡± I agreed, yawning. ¡°I¡¯m gonna take a nap this afternoon. I don¡¯t want to, but I don¡¯t think I have a choice. I¡¯ll be worthless sitting at the shop staring at those files if I don¡¯t sleep for a couple more hours.


    ¡°If Raige really wanted to walk around and experience her new body, I should¡¯ve had her take my place today so I could sleep in.¡±


    ******


    Thankfully, nothing much happened through the rest of the school day. I saw Paige a couple more times from a distance, or in the classes we shared, but we avoided having any direct contact for the moment. Neither of us were exactly eager to get back to playing things out the way they were supposed to go, so I supposed we were avoiding it. Paige was with all her school friends every time I saw her, laughing it up and going on about her long vacation and how her dad had insisted on some sort of spiritual retreat to ¡®get back to basics¡¯ or something. Whatever her cover story was, it had her audience enthralled.


    She did apparently talk to Amber a bit more, specifically about Raige. Who had apparently chosen a different name to go by.


    Now it was later that evening. As promised, I had gone home and taken a nap for a little bit. When I got up, my parents still weren¡¯t around. They were really busy with this whole break-in thing. So Izzy and I ate a quick early dinner before heading out. She and Amber had to do Minority stuff, which left me standing here on the roof of Wren¡¯s shop with Paige and the girl formerly known as Raige. Or rather now¡­


    ¡°Sierra, was it?¡± I asked the girl in question while looking her up and down. She did look somewhat different from me here in the daylight. Well, the resemblance was still there, obviously. But with slightly darker tanned skin, different-colored eyes with the contacts, glasses, long hair on both sides, and the fact it was blonde¡­ yeah, she was different. Then there were the clothes. She was wearing a tummy-baring shirt and tight pants that I just could not pull off.


    Well, I supposed technically there was¨Cthat is¨CI wasn¡¯t¡­ huh. Now I felt even weirder.


    On top of all that, she was a couple inches taller than me, somehow. All put together, while I was sure my family and those really close to me would recognize her¨Cor rather me, most others would probably at worst notice a weird resemblance. Hopefully we could do more to shift her appearance eventually, but this was a fairly decent start for the time being.


    Inclining her head a bit, the girl nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. Raige was a little over-the-top and not really¡­ me. So you know, my solution for being too over-the-top was to name myself after a mountain range. Sierra Nevada. First name, last name. We¡¯ll be working on paperwork and identification.¡± She gave me a sly smirk. ¡°On top of all the trust issues and psychological trauma, Pittman did give us a pretty good understanding of how to go about that. You should see all the fake IDs Paige has.¡±


    Clearing her throat, Paige gestured. ¡°At least she pulled off looking pretty different.¡±


    ¡°Even took a page out of your books and got a few different shoes with lifts in them,¡± Ra¨CSierra drawled idly, gesturing down at them. ¡°Not huge ones, just a couple inches. Enough that your pals down there probably won¡¯t look at the two of us and see that we¡¯re the exact same height.¡±


    ¡°Right, uhh, thanks for that.¡± Biting my lip thoughtfully, I looked her up and down once more. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you came up with any genius ideas for getting Irelyn and Trivial off Breakwater while you were at it?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, babe,¡± she replied with a shrug. ¡°I thought about it, but kinda came up empty. I think we¡¯ll have to get the kid involved. If anyone¡¯s gonna have an idea about how to move a couple people off an island we can¡¯t find, it¡¯s her.¡±


    She had a point. And, as I was thinking about that, we all heard voices from below. Peyton was arriving at the store, along with Murphy and Roald.


    ¡°Well,¡± I started with a gesture toward the ladder leading down, ¡°I guess we should get down there and start talking it over with her, huh? And while we¡¯re at it, we can officially introduce you to the others, Sierra.


    ¡°But for the record, if any of them immediately says ¡®hey that¡¯s Cassidy Evans with blonde hair,¡¯ I quit.¡±

 Enkindle 23-02

    To my relief, the others did not immediately recognize the newly-dubbed Sierra as looking like me. The real me, that was. In the back of my mind, I sent a silent thanks that I had never really been a focus of paparazzi or whatever. I didn¡¯t know how much of that was the fact that I didn¡¯t fit what they would want to show as a daughter of Elena Evans, and how much was my parents keeping me sheltered from it. But either way, it helped me out right now. I could only imagine what sort of explanations we would have had to give otherwise.


    Maybe the truth. I was going to tell them the truth anyway, so why not now? It was a question I couldn¡¯t quite answer, even to myself.


    Murphy, Roald, and Peyton were all circling Sierra, looking her up and down. Peyton gave a low whistle. ¡°Damn, you really do look completely¨CI mean¡­¡± She looked back and forth between her and Paige. ¡°I guess saying you look real is pretty bad, isn¡¯t it? Cuz, like, you are real.¡±


    Paige snorted at that. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re real. Flesh and blood body, just like you. Well, not just like.¡±


    ¡°More like a new and improved us,¡± Murphy murmured, before flushing a bit. ¡°I mean, I didn¡¯t¨C¡± She seemed to squirm a little bit as though embarrassed. ¡°You both look great, but what I meant was the whole strength and speed stuff. Wait, do you have that same¨Cyou know.¡± She gestured a bit vaguely toward Sierra. ¡°Improvements, I mean. Are you like a super-soldier like Paige?¡±


    A very slight smirk crossed the other girl¡¯s face. And yes, seeing a look like that on my own face was still weird. The whole thing was weird. Every time I looked at her, I had another startling moment of realizing I was staring at my own face. It threw me off, to say the least. That smirk stayed as she inclined her chin a bit. ¡°Like her? I¡¯m pretty sure I could kick her ass.¡±


    Paige started to respond to that, and I quickly spoke up. ¡°Why don¡¯t we save finding that out for later? I¡¯m just glad Rai¨CI mean Sierra has a body now, so we can move on to the next problem.¡±


    Roald made a noise deep in his throat, folding his arms across his chest before hesitantly asking, ¡°You mean we don¡¯t get to just be glad we got out of that whole thing alive and relax for awhile? She um, she has a body now, and it¡¯s gonna take awhile to look through all that stuff, right? You don¡¯t¡­ you don¡¯t want to go out and do something like that again already¡­¡±


    Murphy¡¯s hand slapped his back. ¡°I think what he means is, we just did a lot of pissing some really powerful people off. And while all of that was fun, and they have that and a hell of a lot more coming¨C¡± Her face twisted a bit as thoughts of her brother clearly filled her mind briefly before she pushed them away. ¡°¨Cwe probably don¡¯t wanna push too hard, too fast. They¡¯re gonna be on guard now. Even more on guard than usual. They¡¯re gonna be watching for us. So maybe we should chill out.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t mean anything to do with the Ministry,¡± Paige informed them with a glance my way. ¡°This is about my¨Cour father.¡± The correction came as she met Sierra¡¯s gaze briefly. ¡°And the fact that he¡¯s got¡­¡± She hesitated slightly, clearly deciding how much to actually say before starting over. ¡°The fact that he¡¯s got two Star-Touched trapped on that prison island with him. With them. With all those prisoners.¡±


    That made everyone else besides Sierra and me do a double-take. It was almost funny. Wren flew right up in the air, wings lifting her into a hovering motion so she was several feet off the ground. ¡°Wait, wait, what?! He¡¯s got Star-Touched on Breakwater?¡±


    ¡°How did that happen?¡± Peyton demanded. ¡°And how do you know about it?¡±


    Paige took a breath before explaining, ¡°The Banners¨Cthe people who adopted¡­ who bought me, they have an older daughter, a real daughter, who was estranged from them. When they went missing¨Cerr, when we went missing, she started looking for them. I guess Trivial was a friend of hers, because she convinced her to help look. Trivial got Flea, from the Conservators, to help too. When we found out that there were Star-Touched looking for me, we were afraid they¡¯d tip off the Ministry. Or even that they were Ministry. So we made them think I was in Florida. You know, using a phone that made it look like that was where I was calling from.¡±


    Wren abruptly spoke up. ¡°You were calling the umm, Trivial with that?¡±


    ¡°Not at first,¡± Paige replied. ¡°But when I wouldn¡¯t tell Irelyn where I was, she uhh, thought making me talk to a Star-Touched would help. Obviously it didn¡¯t change anything, but they kept trying.¡±


    This was all uncomfortable, obviously. I didn¡¯t like the idea of lying to these guys. But then again, it was about protecting Irelyn¡¯s secret identity. Awkward as the whole situation was, it would have been even worse to go blabbing that when it wasn¡¯t our secret to tell. There was no simple answer here. We could either betray their trust by lying about the whole Irelyn/Flea situation, or betray Irelyn by exposing her identity to a lot of people she didn¡¯t know anything about. I just had to hope that if this came out in the future, they would understand why we hadn¡¯t told them the truth. Actually, I had to hope that they were cool with an awful lot of ¡®not the whole truth.¡¯


    I shook those thoughts off while Paige finished with a simple, ¡°We thought it¡¯d be safe enough down there, that they couldn¡¯t get in trouble that far away from what was actually going on.¡±


    ¡°You also sent them away from the city when this whole gang war is going on,¡± Roald pointed out. He didn¡¯t exactly sound completely recriminating, but he didn¡¯t not sound that way either. It was somewhere in the middle. ¡°They could have done a lot of good here for people.¡±


    Wincing visibly, Paige nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. We didn¡¯t think they¡¯d be gone for this long, honest. We assumed they¡¯d go down for a few days and then come back. We didn¡¯t expect anything like this.¡±


    ¡°Stupid us, apparently,¡± Sierra put in. ¡°Cuz they managed to get Pittman¡¯s attention somehow and he had them¡­ uh, we dunno what or how exactly, but they ended up on Breakwater. He has the phone they were using to communicate with Paige. Irelyn gave them the number. I guess she thought they might have more luck convincing her to tell them where she was.¡±


    Peyton was looking back and forth between all of us, marbles orbiting agitatedly around her head while she was clearly thinking intently. ¡°Okay, so this Banners woman was looking for you and her missing parents and she got a couple of Star-Touched involved. Does she know they ended up on Breakwater?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re pretty sure she¡¯s there too,¡± I found myself saying, picturing the hole I was digging getting deeper with each word. Though technically that was the absolute literal truth. We were pretty sure Irelyn was there. ¡°Flea and Trivial went with her as back-up and now¡­¡± I grimaced. Fuck, it was so easy for this to go wrong and fall apart. The moment they didn¡¯t see Irelyn with Flea and Trivial, it was¨Cfuck. That was a problem to figure out later. We were doing the best we could not to give away her secret identity, but that could only go so far.


    ¡°So there¡¯s a Prev trapped on that island too?¡± Murphy blurted. ¡°How¡¯re they keeping her safe?¡±


    Paige shifted her weight a little, her tone flat. ¡°She¡¯s fully capable. Her father was training her to take over his security division before they had a falling out. She¡¯s had more¨C she can take care of herself in a fight. With those two backing her up¨Cor her backing them up¨Cwhatever, she can help.¡±


    I really almost had to admire Paige¡¯s ability to lie in that moment. She really sounded like she was sticking up for Irelyn being able to keep up with a couple Star-Touched, as if offended by the insinuation that she would drag them down.


    Peyton started to say something else before stopping as a noise of confusion escaped her. ¡°Wait, hold the phone, why isn¡¯t this all over the news? If there were a couple heroes and some ordinary person trapped on that place, wouldn¡¯t it be front-page material? We¡¯d be seeing it on television, there¡¯d be top pinned posts about it on Sphere, on Reddit, everywhere. And trust me, it¡¯s not there. No one¡¯s talking about anything like this. Not even rumors.¡±


    Grimacing behind my helmet, I shifted my weight uncomfortably before nodding. ¡°That¡¯s why we think they¡¯re keeping it secret. The people on Breakwater, I mean. I don¡¯t think they want anyone to know that there¡¯s even a chance of good people ending up there. Because if people knew it was possible for someone to be transported onto Breakwater¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯d realize there must be a way to transport off of it,¡± Murphy finished, sounding disgusted. ¡°And we can¡¯t have that. Gotta keep up the fucking illusion of perfect security so there¡¯s not mass panic in the streets or whatever the fuck they¡¯re scared of. Even if it means abandoning those three¨Cwait, do you think they¡¯ve told the people here? Do you think their teammates know what happened to them? I guess they wouldn¡¯t tell anyone that Irelyn chick knows, but the other two?¡±


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    My head shook. ¡°I don¡¯t think the people in charge of that place would be able to keep it a secret if the Star-Touched here knew about it.¡± Pausing to consider, I added, ¡°I mean, maybe one or two know, like the leaders? But I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think even them. Honestly, I¡¯m pretty sure that if even the Ministry knew about it, they¡¯d be doing something to get the word out. Remember, their whole thing depends on balance. It¡¯s not just about giving the villains a free ride. They need to have the power on the good side to shut down anyone who steps out of line. Losing two really good Star-Touched at any point, but especially right now, isn¡¯t exactly conducive to that.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Sierra put in, ¡°Pittman¡¯s their enemy. They¡¯d want to get the word out and put a stop to it just to make sure that there was no chance of him getting off that place.¡±


    Peyton was nodding slowly, her voice thoughtful. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s a good point, right? Like, there¡¯s no reason they¡¯d be helping to keep this secret. Safe to say they don¡¯t know anything about it.¡±


    Roald snorted. ¡°Yeah, well, maybe we should tell them so they can do our work for us.¡±


    My mouth opened, before I stopped and grimaced behind the helmet. ¡°I know you meant that sarcastically, but part of me wants to know if that¡¯s something we could do. I mean, think about it. They¡¯ve got a hell of a lot more resources than we do. And like we said, they¡¯ve got every reason to want to shut him down and save Flea and Trivial.¡±


    ¡°Has Irelyn been reported missing?¡± Peyton asked, her golden helmet tilting my way. ¡°I mean, I doubt she took this much time off work. Her¨Cwait, what does she do for work?¡±


    Paige was the one who answered. ¡°She¡¯s a security consultant for a few different tech companies. Trains their staff, works with a couple mercenary groups, that sort of thing. Freelance, so she doesn¡¯t have anyone to report to. They might¡¯ve noticed she hasn¡¯t been answering calls, but what are they gonna say? Hell, they¡¯d probably think she¡¯s on some assignment for a different company.¡±


    Clearing my throat, I quickly spoke up. ¡°The point is, it¡¯s pretty doubtful that either the people she works with, or Flea and Trivial¡¯s teammates, know how bad their situation is. Maybe they¡¯ve noticed them missing, but even then it¡¯s not like they¡¯d jump straight to ¡®they¡¯re trapped on Breakwater,¡¯ you know? No matter what they think happened, they¡¯re probably keeping it quiet to avoid a panic.¡±


    ¡°They might be blaming the Scions,¡± Roald pointed out with an audible grimace. ¡°Maybe they think those guys grabbed them and are planning some big event.¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t even give me any reason to picture that,¡± Alloy groaned. ¡°Cuz now I¡¯m just wondering what those guys are actually planning for their big revenge come-back.¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Let¡¯s not think about that right now. We¡¯ve got enough problems to deal with. We just need to focus on how we get those people off of Breakwater.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should let the Ministry know,¡± Fred put in. He was sitting over in the corner with a copy of the newspaper and a cup of coffee, shrugging when we looked at him. ¡°Like you said, they¡¯ve got the resources you¨Cwe don¡¯t, right? And they¡¯d want to convince the authorities to get those three out of there. You get them to put pressure in the right places, maybe the people in charge of the island just step in and pull them out. Could be that easy.¡± He paused, frowning at his cup. ¡°Yeah, I know, it sounded wrong as soon as I heard it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how we can let them know what¡¯s going on without becoming even more of a target ourselves,¡± I carefully murmured, thinking about it for a moment. ¡°Or how we could get them to believe it. I mean, maybe we could get them to think that the people who hit them last night worked for him and lead them to it that way? But I don¡¯t know how we could do that, exactly. It seems pretty¡­ easy to screw up.¡±


    Wren was practically vibrating as fast as her wings while hovering in the air. ¡°I think I can find out where the island is.¡± When everyone looked at her, she quickly added, ¡°When you use the phone to talk to that mean guy. I think I can build something to track the signal to the source. Would that help? I mean, um, if you know exactly where the island is, maybe you could trade that to the people in charge and say something like, ¡®you wanna keep that whole location a secret, so maybe you should get our friends out and it¡¯ll stay that way.¡¯¡±


    That made me stare even more, my mouth opening and shutting a couple times. Of all the people who might have suggested literally blackmailing the authorities into getting Flea and Trivial off that island, I never would have expected it to be Wren.


    Apparently everyone else was just as surprised, because the girl found the whole group staring at her. Slowly, she lowered herself back to the floor, wings continuing to beat for a few more seconds before slowly fluttering to a stop. ¡°What?¡± she asked weakly, looking back and forth between all of us. ¡°Was it a bad idea?¡±


    I was the first to answer, my head shaking quickly. ¡°No, not a bad idea. A surprising one for sure, and definitely a dangerous one too. Blackmailing the government into doing what we want them to do, even if it¡¯s the right thing, could get a target put on our backs. Especially with something as big as the location of their super-inescapable prison.¡±


    Paige spoke slowly. ¡°He¡¯s right about that. Believe me, just trying to force them to do what we want in the first place would be enough to make them look at us in a, let¡¯s say not favorable light. Add in the part where it involves the secret location of the supervillain prison that every government in the Armistice alliance uses and¡­¡± She grimaced a bit.


    ¡°But it¡¯s still a good idea,¡± Sierra put in flatly. Her tone has made it clear that she was practically daring us to disagree, which would obviously mean coming up with a better plan of our own. ¡°Think about it, it¡¯s not like we can get over there ourselves. Even once we know where the island is, that place is so well defended that we¡¯d get blown to smithereens before we got anywhere near it. Unless the kid¡¯s ready to upgrade the odds of her teleportation system from a fifty percent chance of successfully moving a few blocks to a one hundred percent chance of moving all the way across the continent and over the ocean.¡±


    Wren visibly blanched at that, head shaking slowly. ¡°Um, I¡¯d rather risk blackmailing the government. Wait, does that make us bad guys?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re saving a couple Star-Touched, and another good woman, from real bad guys,¡± Peyton reminded her. ¡°That gives us a little wiggle room on the good or evil chart, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed. ¡°A little wiggle room. But let¡¯s be careful with that, because I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯ve been wiggling a fair bit already. Um. Wren, maybe you could work on creating that tracking system so we can call Pittman and get his location? Then we can decide what to do from there. I mean, it¡¯s not like having the location automatically means we have to blackmail the government people, right? If anyone else can come up with a better plan, feel free.¡±


    ¡°One that helps Trivial, Flea, and Irelyn as soon as possible,¡± Paige put in. ¡°They might be good at what they do, but they¡¯re stuck out there on an island full of the worst of the worst. Nobody¡¯s good enough to survive in that place forever. And it¡¯s our fault that they¡¯re stuck out there to begin with.¡±


    A nagging voice in the back of my head was saying that everyone trying to think of a better solution might have more luck if they knew the full, correct situation. They were operating under the assumption that Flea and Irelyn were two separate people. That could very easily come back to bite us in the ass. But again, until we had permission from the woman herself, we couldn¡¯t just go around blabbing her identity to everyone here. We were doing the best we could with a shitty situation.


    Wren was nodding almost frantically. ¡°I¡¯ll work on it. I¡¯ll build it. I mean, I¡¯ve got the design in my head already, but we might need to get a few things. They¡¯ve probably got blockers¨CI mean they¡¯ve definitely got blockers. Things to stop stuff like exactly what we¡¯re gonna do. But I think I know how to get past them. I¨Cuhh, gotta draw!¡± Even as she finished saying that, Fred was handing over a tablet with a stylus, and she quickly moved to a corner of the room to start sketching designs.


    After watching her for a second, I turned back to the others. ¡°Well, that¡¯ll keep her busy for a while. I guess there¡¯s nothing else we can do for those three right now, so maybe we should start going over the stuff we found? Sorry, I mean the stuff we stole. Wren says the tracking stuff is all gone, right, Fred?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s all taken care of,¡± he confirmed. ¡°The kid promises that everything over there is safe.¡± He gestured to a table on the other side of the room, where our bags were spread out. ¡°There were a lot of trackers on it, but we got rid of them. Nobody¡¯s gonna find that stuff here.¡±


    So, we all went over to find our own bags and started to sort through what we had stolen. First, I took those vials from the front pocket and unwrapped them from the towel before frowning thoughtfully. There were five vials in total, one blue, two purple, one brownish-black, and one a bright amber. There were labels on the vials, but it wasn¡¯t like they had easy-to-understand names and explanations. Each label had four numbers and three letters on it. Such as, on the blue one, 9F2X7P0. The two purple ones looked identical, and the codes on them were close but not the same. One was 8D1J4N1 and the other was 8D1J4N8. Did that mean they came from the same batch? I had no idea. And I certainly wasn¡¯t going to do anything stupid like uncork them and smell or touch the stuff without having a better idea of what it was.


    Hopefully there would be information in the files we¡¯d taken, something we could use to decode the labels. For the moment, I carefully set them aside on the folded towel and turned my attention to the assortment of papers I had yanked off the wall back in that place. They had been taped up near the vials, so maybe they had something I could use?


    Unfortunately, the papers were no help. At least, not yet. They had the same sort of code written on them. Until we found the key for it, we still couldn¡¯t decipher what any of it meant.


    While I was focused on that, Pack arrived at the back door. Fred let her in, and she came with her lizards all over her shoulders, arms, and head. ¡°I tell you, these guys must¡¯ve been pretty upset about being left behind, because¨Cwhat?¡± She had stopped in mid-sentence, staring at Sierra, who had just looked up. ¡°What the hell are¨C err¡­ oh.¡± Seeming to catch herself abruptly, the masked girl pointed. ¡°That¡¯s the body you found for Raige?¡±


    ¡°Sierra now,¡± the girl in question corrected. ¡°Sierra Nevada.¡±


    ¡°Sierra Nevada,¡± Pack echoed thoughtfully, still staring at her. I couldn¡¯t read her expression through that completely blank mask, but she sounded¡­ odd. ¡°Well, it¡¯s good to meet you, Sierra.


    ¡°Very good to meet you indeed.¡±

 Enkindle 23-03

    For the next hour or so, we worked our way through searching the stuff we had taken from the Ministry base. Amber (as That-A-Way of course) showed up to help out while on a break from patrol duties, and was immediately recruited to scan through a pile of papers. The more the merrier. Or at least, the more the less this mind-numbing job of reading what often looked like gibberish would drag on.


    There was something that appeared to be a key for the code that was written on those papers and the vials, but I wasn¡¯t able to decipher it with a brief once-over. So, I passed it over to Paige, who said she would figure it out and decode what was written on them, but it would take awhile.


    Beyond that, we found some interesting things. First and possibly foremost, there was a ledger that showed how up to date on their payments various gangs were. Not just the Detroit ones, but practically all of the organizations throughout the entire state. Nearly every Fell-Touched group (aside from a couple like the Scions) and even most of the non-Touched gangs were represented in the ledger. If you were a criminal group of more than one person (and even some who were solo), you paid taxes to the Ministry.


    But it went further than that. Because obviously having that many people know about the Ministry would make it impossible to keep even a little bit secret. So the vast majority of criminals who paid their fees had no idea that it was part of a larger organization. The Ministry had lieutenants who acted as though they were the boss of an area, unconnected to anyone else. They made people who acted in their territory pay tribute, then secretly passed everything but their own salary to the higher-ups. And for the most part, even the lieutenants didn¡¯t know how wide-reaching the whole thing was. They were all divided into smaller cells who didn¡¯t know anything about the other groups, and didn¡¯t know that a number of their rivals in an area were actually also working for the Ministry. Some of the lieutenants were gang bosses, while others were actually their right-hand people who were secretly keeping the Ministry up-to-date on what was going on. The operation encompassed the entire state of Michigan, and we had all these names and the explanations of what they were doing.


    It wasn¡¯t all in one spot, of course. It wasn¡¯t like all of this information was conveniently written out for us. We had to piece it together between the ledger and several other pieces, including on a few of the hard drives, which were heavily encrypted and password protected. We would have been shit out of luck if we hadn¡¯t had Paige and Sierra. They were able to use the¡­wires that extended from their fingers to plug into the hard drives and access them directly.


    As expected, there were none of my family¡¯s real names written down anywhere. Not even in the secret encoded parts of the computers. Which made me slightly relieved, a reaction which instantly made me feel guilty. This was wrong, it was all wrong. It was going to blow up in my face somehow, I just knew it. But right now, I just had to focus on this stuff.


    Murphy was shaking her head, muttering about how none of this would help find Luciano, when she abruptly paused. From the corner of my eye, I saw the girl quickly shuffle back through a few other pages she had been looking at before elbowing Roald beside her. She asked him where something else they had been looking at a moment earlier was, and he dug through a discarded pile before handing it to her. She had two papers, one in each hand, and was looking back and forth between them. ¡°Hey¡­ hey I think I got something about that piece of shit.¡±


    We all turned our attention that way, as she explained. ¡°Okay so on this page they¡¯re talking about something called Plan Z. I think it¡¯s a group or a person or something. It says Plan Z couldn¡¯t be called on for this other thing they needed, so they should send Squire. Then this other page with the same date mentions that this safe house is ¡®now available¡¯ because ¡®L¡¯ has been taken by Z and won¡¯t be needing it anymore. That¡¯s right after Luciano got away. Whoever or whatever Plan Z is, they probably escorted this L, Luciano, away from that safehouse and out of Ministry territory.¡±


    Taking that in, I frowned thoughtfully. ¡°There¡¯s a few other bits in here about a Plan Z. I thought it was like¡­ an actual plan, but you¡¯re right, it sounds more like a person or a group. Maybe a set of Touched they use? I dunno. Sending a group to escort Luciano seems like overkill, but then again, maybe they were nervous about us finding him again.¡± My shoulders raised in a slight shrug. ¡°Does it say anything about where that Plan Z might¡¯ve taken him?  I doubt he stayed there, but it might give us a place to start from.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not there, but it does here.¡± That was Peyton, waving a hand with a small notebook clutched in it. ¡°It¡¯s like a memo or a reminder note or something in the margin. I didn¡¯t think it was important at first, but the page right before it has the same date as those ones, and the memo says, ¡®Z pick-up¡¯ and then an address in Pontiac.¡±


    Right, Pontiac was a city about twenty miles north of Detroit. I absorbed that information. It made sense as a place to take Luciano. Far enough away to be clear of the city without taking up too much of their time.


    Pack, who had been sitting at the far end of the table we were all gathered around, made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. ¡°So, whoever these Plan Z people are, it sounds like they needed to be picked up after taking Luciano somewhere. Maybe they gave him the vehicle?¡± She ran two fingers along the top of Tuesday¡¯s head as the gecko sat perched beside the papers she had been looking through, before turning her attention elsewhere. ¡°What do you think, Sierra? Pretty interesting stuff, but then, you must be tired of just sitting around. Being trapped for all that time in a body with someone else, and now you¡¯re completely free. But here you are just playing with paperwork. Don¡¯t you want to get out there and have some fun?¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t try to recruit her into your villain gang until she at least has time to stretch her legs a bit,¡± Amber idly requested from where she was sitting basically right next to the La Casa Touched. She didn¡¯t bother to look up from the files she had been scanning. ¡°As far as having a body goes, she¡¯s not even one day old.¡±


    As for Sierra herself, she offered a shrug. ¡°Yeah, I wanna get out there. But there¡¯s gonna be this nagging voice in the back of my head if I don¡¯t help find Irelyn and those two Touched girls and get them off that island. And believe me, after everything we went through to get me this body, the last thing I want is another nagging voice in my head. I just got the old one to be external.¡± She gave a quick glance over toward Paige before adding, ¡°So, the sooner we save those three, the sooner I can move on and figure out what my real life is going to be.¡±


    Clearing my throat a bit, I looked toward the stairs. Wren was up in her main lab, working on that tracer device that was supposed to tell us where exactly Breakwater was. I still wasn¡¯t absolutely sure we would go with the plan to blackmail the people in charge into helping Flea and Trivial, but knowing where the island was would at least be a good place to start from.


    ¡°Well, until we have something else to work with,¡± I announced, ¡°I think we should check out that address that you guys found. Maybe Luciano isn¡¯t there. I mean, he probably isn¡¯t. But there could be something to tell us where else to look. He might¡¯ve left a clue or something.¡±


    Murphy was nodding rapidly, shoving herself up from the table so firmly she nearly knocked over the stool she had been sitting on. ¡°Fuck yeah, let¡¯s get out there. I can¡¯t take looking at another piece of paper right now or I¡¯ll scream.¡±


    Standing up, I hesitated. ¡°We need to be quiet and stealthy about it. Whatever that address is, I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a Ministry place or just somewhere they took Luciano and dropped him off. But whatever it is, if we show up and make a spectacle of ourselves, it¡¯s going to get back to the Ministry. And I¡¯m pretty sure they could put two and two together, considering those files were just stolen from their base yesterday. If the place looks like it¡¯s guarded or whatever, we have to wait. And we don¡¯t let them see us.¡±


    Paige started to rise, and I focused that way, shaking my head. ¡°You should stay here. Keep working on those harddrives and see if there¡¯s anything else we can use. This isn¡¯t gonna be a fight, we¡¯re just checking the place out and looking around if it seems clear. We need to be subtle right now.¡±


    ¡°Paintball, subtle?¡± Pack snorted and gave me a look. ¡°If I asked you to define that word, would you be able to?¡±


    Flushing a bit under the helmet and mask, I huffed at the girl. ¡°I can be subtle when I want to be, I promise. I was subtle in that base last night.¡± Before she could say anything, I hurriedly amended, ¡°I mean I was subtle about who I was and my power and¡ªyou know what I mean.¡± Now I was really blushing. ¡°Look, the point is, we¡¯ll just head over there and check the place out.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh,¡± Pack gave me a long look. ¡°And how are you going to get there, exactly? You know, to the city twenty miles north of Detroit. Without attracting attention.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    My mouth opened, then I paused before tilting my head. A muttered curse escaped me while Pack snickered.


    ¡°I can¡¯t drive,¡± Way hesitantly pointed out. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get back to patrol pretty soon, or they¡¯ll start to wonder where I am. Which we really don¡¯t want.¡±


    Pack nodded. ¡°And I¡¯ve got¨Cuhh, let¡¯s just call them plans and leave it at that. Gotta do my real job, or the boss might wonder what else I¡¯ve been doing with my time. Which, as Rose over there said, we don¡¯t want.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Way muttered, ¡°wouldn¡¯t want you to get kicked out of your job as a thief.¡±


    ¡°I could drive,¡± Sierra idly noted. ¡°I mean, I¡¯d need a car for it, but I could drive.¡± She offered a somewhat feral smile then, which was weird to see on a face that was so like my own. It made a funny feeling form in my stomach before I pushed it down as she continued. ¡°And hey, if I need to acquire a car for it¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not stealing a car,¡± I interrupted. This whole situation was already precarious enough without adding something like that in. It wasn¡¯t likely that she would get caught, of course. And even less likely that she would stay caught, but still. The image of Sierra, in a body that looked like a blonde me, getting taken to the police station was just¡­ no. No, we couldn¡¯t risk anything like that.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Murphy pointed out, ¡°That body looks like you¡¯re younger than we are. That body¡¯s, what, fourteen?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I dunno,¡± Pack put in casually, ¡°appearances can be deceiving. Some people look older than they are, other people look younger. You can¡¯t really go off first impression these days.¡±


    Murphy shrugged at that. ¡°Whatever, the point is any cop who saw her driving would definitely pull you over to check, stolen car or not. She¡¯d stand out. And I thought the whole point of this trip was to blend in and not attract attention.¡±


    I nodded quickly. ¡°She¡¯s right, we need to be subtle. That means not stealing any cars and not having someone drive who would make the cops do a double-take. So all of us who are wearing masks are out.¡±


    While we were all looking at each other and trying to figure out where to go from there, Fred grunted. ¡°I¡¯ll drive. Whatever, it¡¯s just a quick recon thing, right? The kid¡¯s gonna be busy upstairs for awhile, and if she needs something, you can take care of it.¡± He nodded toward Paige before turning his attention to me. ¡°You want subtle, can¡¯t get much more subtle than an old sedan. Long as that¡¯s not a big fancy neighborhood, it¡¯ll fit in just fine. Plus, I¡¯ve got that bakery ID, so I can be out after curfew. Trouble is, I can only take a few of you. We can say you¡¯re helping with loading stuff into the bakery trucks for some extra cash since the place is shorthanded.¡±


    ¡°Well, Pack and Way are out,¡± I noted. ¡°Raindrop isn¡¯t here. So I¡¯ll go with Alloy, Hobbes, and Calvin.¡± I nodded toward Murphy and Roald. ¡°We¡¯ll check it out, see what we can find.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go with you.¡± That was Sierra. ¡°Like I said, I really need to get out of here and stretch my legs. Besides, this way if something goes wrong, you¡¯ll have some back-up.¡± She gave Paige a look. ¡°It¡¯s my turn to be out there. You can keep scanning the hard drives.¡±


    For a moment, I thought Paige was going to object. But she paused before exhaling. ¡°Be careful.¡± Her gaze moved over the rest of us as she added, ¡°All of you. Just don¡¯t get involved in some big thing. If there¡¯s trouble, get the hell out of there and come back. Like you said, we don¡¯t want the Ministry to know that you¡¯re involved. This whole house of cards will come down pretty damn quick if they get too many pieces of the puzzle.¡±


    Amber looked a bit guilty about the fact that she wasn¡¯t going to be able to go with us. Focusing on me, she urged, ¡°She¡¯s right about being careful out there, okay? We caused a big scene last night. The Ministry is going to be on guard and itching for some payback after the bloody nose we gave them. They can¡¯t cover everything, and they won¡¯t know what we were looking for since we grabbed everything we could. But still, just¡­ watch yourselves and don¡¯t attract a bunch of attention. And if something goes wrong, call. I¡¯d rather make an excuse for¨CI¡¯d rather ditch and figure out how to explain it later so I can come help than have you guys end up in even worse trouble.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be careful,¡± I promised. ¡°We¡¯re just going to check the place out and see if there¡¯s anything to find that might tell us where that guy went. From those papers, it sounds like the Ministry took him from their safehouse to that spot. I¡¯m pretty sure that means they just dropped him off, probably in a place he chose. Which would mean they don¡¯t really have any ties to it. But either way, we¡¯ll watch our backs.¡± Reaching out, I squeezed her shoulder. ¡°But you watch yourself too, okay? Don¡¯t get so distracted worrying about what we¡¯re doing that you get yourself in trouble. There¡¯s still a gang war going on out there.¡±


    Pack made a noise in the back of her throat, before quietly excusing herself. She said something about coming back to check in on what we found later, before heading out to do her¡­ whatever it was La Casa was doing. That whole situation was becoming more complicated by the day, especially given how much I could tell she and Amber liked each other. But it wasn¡¯t my place to say anything.


    Instead, I focused on getting ready to go. With some reluctance, I changed into the other suit, complete with the raised shoes and fake chest. I didn¡¯t want to, but if it came to it, better to be spotted by the Ministry looking like this than as Paintball. There was no sense in taking the risk, even if we weren¡¯t planning on making a big scene. Or so I told myself repeatedly while putting the other suit on in the bathroom before going out to join the others.


    Peyton, Murphy, and Roald wore the same suits as last night as well, while Sierra simply had a ski mask. I had conflicting thoughts about her going out like that. But then again, I had conflicting thoughts about everything involving her. Including the fact that she was wearing a tummy-baring shirt and somehow pulling it off better than I could have even though the body she was using was literally identical to mine.


    So yeah, conflicting thoughts all around. Still, if we got caught and her mask was removed, we¡­ it would be a whole thing anyway. If we got caught to the point that she lost the mask, I would lose mine too. And then we¡¯d really have a situation.


    For the moment, however, I put all of that aside and tried not to focus on the terrible what-ifs. Instead, I headed out to the back lot where Fred¡¯s car was. Unfortunately, just as we were about to head out, Peyton got a call from her mother. Apparently they had a sick friend, and her mother needed her to watch that friend¡¯s kids while she took the woman to the hospital. She obviously felt bad about ducking out, but I assured her it was understandable and that we would be fine. After all, we were just going to poke around, it wouldn¡¯t be that bad.


    She still looked doubtful, but stepped back while I got in the back of the sedan with Murphy and Roald. Sierra got in the front passenger side, not bothering with the mask just yet.


    Starting the car, Fred glanced in the back at us. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, those back windows might look clear, but¡­¡± He reached out, hitting something on the dash. ¡°Now they¡¯re tinted from the outside. Nobody can see you back there.¡± With a proud smile, he tapped the steering wheel. ¡°She might look like an old jalopy, but Wren¡¯s done a lot of tinkering. We get in a chase, whoever¡¯s after us will be in for a big surprise.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope there¡¯s no opportunity for you to prove that,¡± I put in. ¡°At least, not today. But good to know.¡±


    ¡°Just don¡¯t let Paintball drive if you get into a chase,¡± Peyton pleaded while standing just outside the car, staring at us as though she was about to change her mind about going to help her mother.


    Making a scoffing sound in the back of my throat, I primly pointed out, ¡°I got us out of the last chase pretty well.¡±


    ¡°You also got my stomach out of my lower torso pretty well,¡± Peyton shot back. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it still hasn¡¯t settled properly.¡±


    Another huff escaped me. ¡°Wimp. I could totally have driven crazier than that. I took it easy on you.¡±


    From the front seat, Fred gruffly informed us that he would be the one driving today. And with that, we all waved to Peyton and the others before pulling out onto the street.


    ¡°Now,¡± our driver announced, ¡°you all might want to sit back and relax for a few minutes, cuz if we¡¯re trying to avoid attention, that means following the speed limit. And I guarantee, there¡¯s gonna be traffic.¡±


    He was right, of course. There was plenty of traffic from people heading home to get back before curfew hit. And just getting out of work in general. Pontiac had grown as well, alongside Detroit as it acted as a suburb for people to live in while working here in the city. At last count, the place had a population of about a hundred and fifty thousand or so. And part of me thought that the entirety of that was on the freeway with us. It made me want to jump out and find my own way to the city. Which would have been a terrible mistake, but still.


    It took over an hour and a half for us to drive the twenty miles from Detroit to Pontiac, which would have been worse if I hadn¡¯t fallen asleep leaning against the window. When the car abruptly stopped, I jolted awake, suddenly feeling panicked about where I was and what was going on.


    ¡°It¡¯s cool,¡± Murphy assured me. From the sound of the yawn that came with her words, she had actually fallen asleep too. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Fred confirmed, raising his hand to point across the street from where he had parked. ¡°That¡¯s the address. It¡¯s number 3C.¡±


    I looked that way with the others and we immediately spotted an apartment building with what looked like some sort of memorial out front. There were flowers, wreaths, candles, and similar stuff all stacked up next to the stairs.


    ¡°What¡­¡± I frowned. ¡°What is that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll check it out,¡± Sierra announced. And before I could say anything, she had the door open and was walking across the street to look at the memorial. There were a couple people standing nearby, and she said something to them before listening to their response. The whole time, I sat with my hands clenched tightly, praying nothing went wrong.


    A minute later, Sierra came back and got in. ¡°It¡¯s a memorial alright,¡± she announced. ¡°Apparently a couple teenagers were killed by someone the day after that Luciano creep was supposed to have been dropped off. From what the one witness who survived said, they were poking around the dumpster back behind the building and someone attacked them. They ahh, they said it was a monster. Actually they said zombie. He came out of the garbage and screamed at them. The girl got away but her friends were¡­ they weren¡¯t as lucky. Apparently the monster bit them. Ripped their throats out with¨C¡± She stopped, grimacing. ¡°It was bad, that¡¯s the point. Real bad. And from the description the girl gave¡­¡±


    ¡°Luciano?¡± I asked, before grimacing when she gave a silent nod. ¡°Fuck. Okay wait, so¡­. the Ministry brought Luciano here¡­ and the next day a few teenagers found him in the garbage, and when they disturbed him, he attacked and murdered a couple of them? By ripping their throats out with his teeth? And they said he was like a zombie? What¨Cwhat does¡­


    ¡°What the fuck does that mean?¡±

 Enkindle 23-04

    There was no immediate answer to my question. At least, none waiting to jump out at us as we sat in the car and talked about it. My head kept flashing to Luciano being a zombie, but that was absurd, right? Sure, Bokor, over on the Detroit Conservators, used what they called zombies, but they weren¡¯t really. He just created duplicates of people he could see and used them as minions. Gloam, one of the Seraphs, was also able to create duplicates of anyone standing in one of the areas of darkness she made and put them in one of her areas of light. But again, they weren¡¯t zombies. Not the ¡®climb out of a trash pile and try to eat people¡¯ sort of zombies. So¡­ so¡­ what then? What the fuck was going on? What had happened to Luciano? Why was he lying in that garbage? Why was¨Cwhat¨Cwhat? My mind was spinning out pretty thoroughly.


    ¡°We need to figure out why he came here,¡± I finally managed to get out, shoving the confusion into a corner of my mind for the moment. ¡°Which, I guess means getting into that apartment. Or just knocking on the door. Or¡­¡± I frowned, shaking my head. ¡°We should scope the place out first. It¡¯s¨Cwhat time is it?¡± I managed to dig my phone out, blinking at it. ¡°Almost ten. Okay, let¡¯s find a place to park and wait about an hour, then we¡¯ll see what we can find in there. If someone is living there and they¡¯re a friend of Luciano¡¯s, I¡¯d prefer to take them by surprise rather than just politely knock on their door.¡± After a slight pause, I grimaced before quietly adding, ¡°I¡¯d kind of like to not have a repeat of the Cup thing. Especially since Way isn¡¯t here this time.¡±


    Nobody else had any better idea of what to do other than wait for a bit, so Fred drove around the block until we found an old fast food place with a spot next to the dumpster so it was out of sight of the main road and we could still see the apartment building itself in the distance. We parked there, Fred and Sierra went inside the restaurant to bring back food, and then we sat in the car eating and watching the building. I had no idea what we expected to see, but none of us wanted to take our eyes off the place.


    I spent most of that time quietly thinking while listening to the others talk. Well, mostly Murphy and Sierra. The two of them were having a¨Ccall it spirited debate about different types of zombies and other monsters. Sierra insisted that even though she was only going off of what Paige remembered, having fast-moving zombies in something was complete sacrilege and destroyed the entire point of what they were supposed to be. Murphy thought having a few fast-moving ones shook things up and stopped people from getting complacent and bored. To which Sierra informed her that if you were bored in a zombie movie it was clearly made wrong. Murphy firmly agreed, but added that that was exactly why adding in fast zombies was the right way to go. And from there it just went back around in another circle.


    I tuned them out for the most part, focusing on eating and watching that building as I tried to think of what could possibly have happened to explain the new Luciano situation. But I had nothing. Through that entire hour, the only things that came to mind were ridiculous explanations I had to dismiss. He wasn¡¯t really a zombie. They didn¡¯t exist. So¡­ what then?


    I didn¡¯t know, but hopefully we were going to find out by talking to whoever was in that apartment. Or possibly just by searching the place if it was empty. Either way, a glance toward my phone confirmed it was time. The streets were dark and quiet, with very light rain. Good for keeping people out of the way, hopefully. The last thing I wanted to d¨Cokay one of the last things I wanted to do was run into some random onlooker who thought we were thieves.


    ¡°I¡¯ll check the place out with Sierra first,¡± I started while pushing the back door open. Before Murphy could voice her obvious objection, I pressed on. ¡°We¡¯ll just see if the place looks empty or if someone¡¯s there. As soon as we know what¡¯s going on and have it¡­ handled, we¡¯ll call you guys in. Wait til you see a flash of light right over there on the edge of the roof. If you see one, it means come over. If you see two, it means come fast, we need help. And if you see three, it means get the hell out of here and don¡¯t look back.¡± Rather than focusing on Murphy and Roald, I looked at Fred himself. ¡°Okay?¡±


    He met my gaze before giving a short nod. Then he added, ¡°But uhh, you might wanna turn on that voice changer before you do any talking to anyone else. Just gotta say, hearing your voice coming out of what looks like a girl is¡­ it¡¯s pretty fucking weird.¡±


    Oh, he had absolutely no idea how weird the situation was. Coughing at the thought, I thanked him and switched my voice changer over from making me sound like a boy to making me sound like a different girl. Then I took a brief moment to inwardly marvel at just how weird my entire life was. And something told me it wouldn¡¯t be getting more normal any time soon. Which was an easy assumption to make considering I was currently trying to find out the truth behind a supposed zombie with the help of a cyborg girl whose body happened to be an identical copy of my own. Add in the fact that she was mentally a twin/copy of a girl who had apparently been one of my best friends before spending years as my worst enemy after my memory was wiped because my mafia-boss grandfather¨Cyeah. It was safe to say that this weirdness wasn¡¯t clearing up anytime soon.


    Still, I pushed that out of my mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. Together, Sierra and I made our way across the parking lot to a drainage ditch that ran under the street, through a raised bridge area. Anything to stay out of sight. The two of us were wearing dark clothes and with any luck, nobody would be paying too much attention right now anyway. But just in case, we would probably need to be as quick as possible before cops showed up. Being chased through the streets of this suburb by cops wasn¡¯t a situation that I wanted to get into, to say the least.


    The large drainage ditch led all the way around to the back area of the building in question.  Sierra and I were able to poke our heads up and look across the small, yet crowded parking lot. We wanted apartment 3C, which was obviously on the third of four floors, and from the layout that Roald had brought up on an apartment rental listing, unit C would be near the far left side, one off from the edge of the building. We had basically been able to see the windows from the car, and no lights had been visible. It was the same story up close. I could see heavy blinds, with no illumination coming through. Unfortunately, the fact that the blinds were that heavy meant not seeing light didn¡¯t necessarily equate to no one being home. We were going to have to get closer for that.


    Fortunately, there was a small porch/patio surrounding each apartment. They weren¡¯t very large, barely big enough for a couple chairs and a barbecue on some of them. Or a potted plant. Whatever, they were clearly only meant to allow someone to sit out on the very optimistically titled ¡®deck¡¯ and watch the cars on the street below. Probably raised the price of the apartment itself significantly too, having a cupboard-sized patio attached. Not that I had any idea what the price of an apartment like that was. Or any apartment, really. I had no frame of reference for that. Though I was willing to bet that the bedroom I lived in was significantly more expensive.


    Shaking that off, I focused on the roof of the building. It looked clear. So did all the windows, with their tightly closed blinds. It seemed like the people around here were mostly keeping it to themselves. Which might explain why Luciano had wanted to stay there, given how much trouble he was in back in Detroit.


    I would have painted us straight to the patio in question. Unfortunately, the apartment right next to it was one of the few with its lights on and the blinds up, so I didn¡¯t want to take the risk of going right past them. We needed to get around that place first.


    ¡°Here,¡± I whispered toward the girl beside me. It was easier to ignore just how similar to me she looked while she was wearing that ski mask. ¡°We need to run across the lot to the middle. Stay low behind these cars. Once we¡¯re close enough, I¡¯ll paint us up to that roof and we can drop down to the patio as soon as it looks clear.¡±


    There was a brief pause before the girl murmured in agreement. I adjusted the weird and uncomfortable bra, then we set off in a half-crouch. The two of us used the vehicles in the lot as cover, quickly making our way to that center point, where a small, narrow median with a couple very sick-looking bushes waited. We crouched behind those bushes, glancing to the left at the empty road, then up to the building itself. There was absolutely nothing to see. It all looked clear. Some of the lights in the various apartments were on, but other than the one that was directly in our way, their shades were drawn as well. There was no one visible, no one who might notice us as far as I could tell. It was now or never if we were going to search that place.


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    This whole situation actually reminded me of when I had been searching for Ashton. Ending up in his apartment had¡­ well it hadn¡¯t gone that well, obviously. And yet, it kind of had. I¡¯d had my face-to-face meeting with Blackjack, which eventually led to saving his daughter and making friends with Pack. It¨Cyeah. Maybe it just went to show that you never knew how a situation was going to play out. Still, I was going to keep hoping that this one wouldn¡¯t end with meeting another Fell-Touched leader. Somehow, I didn¡¯t see that going so well.


    Once I was as certain as I could be that things were clear, I shot a bit of black paint at the roof, then added some to Sierra and myself so nothing would make noise. Then I used red paint to pull the two of us that way. We both hit the edge of the roof silently, keeping ourselves low to avoid showing our profiles to anyone who happened to glance outside from one of the other buildings. It was dark, but not that dark. We needed to get down off the roof and into the apartment in question as quickly as possible.


    The balcony directly below us looked clear. I leaned over and peered at the sliding glass door intently. I could barely make out a dark living room, though the light appeared to be on in the adjacent kitchen. From the sound of things, someone was in there cooking. Which meant they weren¡¯t going to see us if we were quick. First, I sprayed the metal railing there with black paint so it wouldn¡¯t rattle and give us away, before the two of us hopped down. Then I clambered over and lowered myself toward the next balcony down. This was the apartment we wanted. Hanging from the fourth floor railing, I carefully glanced toward the lit-up place next door. Yeah, there were definitely people in that one. None of them were glancing out the glass door, and I was pretty sure it was too bright in there to see us in our dark clothes out here very easily. But still, I didn¡¯t want to screw around and risk that for very long.


    So, I sprayed the railing of this apartment black and activated it before dropping down. Sierra joined me, before the two of us silently clambered over the railing and stayed low on the porch. We were clear so far. I quietly turned toward the sliding door and leaned in close to peer through a corner where the heavy blind didn¡¯t quite cover. Nothing, the whole place was dark. Quietly murmuring that to Sierra, I tried the door just in case. Nope, it was locked.


    Well, I didn¡¯t want to do this, but we didn¡¯t have any other choice if we were going to get in there and see what was going on. We had just come to this area in the first place to find Luciano so Murphy could have some closure. But now there was obviously something pretty bad going on. Even worse than her whole situation. We had to find answers, and the only clue to those answers we had was that he had wanted to come to this apartment. It was this or nothing.


    So, I sprayed a black circle just above the door handle. Then I put purple and orange stars across my fist, before punching the circle I¡¯d made. It knocked the glass out there silently, and I was able to carefully reach through to unlock the door from the inside. Listening intently, I slowly slid it open. Nothing untoward came to my ears. I could hear the television in the apartment next door very faintly, as well as some chatter. We would have to stay quiet, but it sounded like no one had noticed our break-in so far.


    We both stepped into the apartment. Like the one right above and the one next door, the patio door led to a living room. It was a tiny place. Definitely smaller than my bedroom. I was pretty sure you could barely fit my actual bed in here. Maybe not even that. Not comfortably, anyway.


    There wasn¡¯t much in the way of furniture in this place. Just a small tv on a card table, an old couch, a recliner that was falling apart, and a half-full bookshelf with DVDs rather than novels. Nearby, I could see the open kitchen with a table that looked older than my parents, a couple wooden chairs, and a counter with a few odds and ends. There was also a short hallway to the right leading to what looked like the bedroom and bathroom.


    Quite frankly, it was downright eerie to be standing here in this dark place after everything I¡¯d heard about Luciano supposedly jumping out of the trash to attack those people. He¡¯d literally ripped two people¡¯s throats out with his teeth! He murdered them, he¨Cyeah. It was a thought that made me shudder. I felt like I was in the middle of some sort of horror movie. I really had no desire to be in here right now, but there was no choice if we were going to get answers.


    First, however, I moved back to the open sliding door and shot a bit of white paint against the railing. Looking both ways to make sure it seemed clear, I triggered the paint so it would light up for a few seconds, then canceled it.


    Turning back around, I found Sierra coming out of the hallway leading to the other rooms. She was shaking her head, voice low. ¡°Nobody¡¯s back there. This place is empty.¡± After a brief pause, she added, ¡°Maybe whoever lives here is at work, or just out. Not like there¡¯s a curfew up here. Or¨C¡±


    ¡°Or maybe nobody lives here and it was just a place for Luciano to lay low,¡± I put in flatly. My head nodded toward a framed photograph on the wall next to the television. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s him right there, with some older woman. His mother, or aunt, or someone, maybe?¡±


    Glancing that way curiously, the biolem girl stepped over to examine the photograph. ¡°Yeah, yeah that¡¯s definitely him. So this place is either his or the woman in the picture¡¯s. But uhh¨C¡± She glanced around the sparsely decorated apartment. ¡°This sort of screams ¡®guy¡¯s apartment¡¯ to me. A guy who isn¡¯t doing much with it and just wanted a place to stay out of sight for awhile.¡±


    The two of us stepped closer to the patio so we could watch for the others. While we were waiting, Sierra glanced toward me and paused before speaking softly. ¡°This whole thing is probably pretty fucking weird for you, huh?¡±


    The question made me snort despite myself before I turned that way and raised an eyebrow she wouldn¡¯t even see. ¡°Pretty fucking weird for me? You mean you looking like that after everything that happened?¡± A heavy sigh escaped me. ¡°Throughout this entire situation, I didn¡¯t think that the whole bit with Paige and you could get any weirder for me. Finding out my memory was wiped and that I was friends with Paige, and that she was a cyborg and¨Cyeah, I was pretty sure the bar for how weird I could feel about the whole thing couldn¡¯t get any higher. But¡­¡± With one hand, I gestured to encompass her new body. ¡°Somehow, we managed to surpass the previous level of weird by entire lightyears. I¡¯m not even going to try to say that this is as weird as it will get, because I just know that somewhere out there, the universe will hear me and get offended.¡±


    Audibly snickering just a little, Sierra shrugged. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right. Trust me, it feels weird from this side too. Probably not as weird as it feels for you, but still. Remember, I was supposed to kill you. That was the plan, my program. It was what I was built for. Well, one of the things, anyway. And now, here I am. I¡¯m wearing this body, helping out with your whole thing here, and planning out how to fuck over my¡­ father so I can save an older sister I¡¯ve never met and who literally knows nothing about me. So yeah, it¡¯s pretty weird from over here.¡±


    We were both silent for a few seconds then, running all that through our heads while watching the lot below. Then she spoke again, her voice even softer that time. ¡°Look, I know from all those Paige memories that you feel like your body isn¡¯t¡­ right, like you aren¡¯t feminine enough.¡±


    My eyes widened and I choked a bit, head shaking. ¡°Oh boy, is this not a conversation I want to have right now. Or ever, really. But right now especially.¡±


    ¡°Not a whole conversation,¡± she assured me. ¡°I just¨Cspeaking as someone who didn¡¯t have a body of my own at all until last night, you should always be glad that you¡¯ve got one that works. You¡¯ve got all your fingers and toes, all your limbs, your senses work, you¡¯re in good shape, it¡¯s¡­ yeah. It all works the way it¡¯s supposed to. And¡­¡± She hesitated, sounding a bit uncertain for a moment before pushing on. ¡°And speaking of someone who is literally wearing your body right now, you shouldn¡¯t be so hard on yourself. Sure, you¡¯re not like¡­ voluptuous or whatever. But you don¡¯t have to be. Look at how much you hate having that bra on with the¡­ you know. Because it¡¯s not you. This body we¡¯ve got, it¡¯s not bad. It¡¯s yours. It¡¯s ours. It¡¯s¨Cyou know what I mean. And believe me when I say, we¡¯re cuter than you think. Not everyone needs some big honking¡­ honkers.¡±


    Coughing as the blush on my face threatened to burn through the mask, I pointed toward a couple of small, dark figures running closer across the parking lot. They were staying low to avoid being seen from the road. ¡°There they are.¡± Then I paused before putting a hand on Sierra¡¯s arm. My voice was low. ¡°Thanks. I just¨Cthanks.¡±


    That was all I had time to say before the others were below. Murphy and Roald waited as I leaned out to send paint down to pull them up. But I never got the chance. As I was leaning out, someone came bounding out from behind the nearby parked car. They were¡­ human but kind of loping along like an ape or a dog or¨Cor something. The person literally threw himself at Murphy and Roald, taking them to the ground with a furious snarling sound, like a wild animal.


    Sierra and I exchanged a quick glance, our eyes wide. We knew who that was. I¡¯d gotten just enough of a glimpse to recognize his face before he tackled Murphy and Roald. Luciano. It was Luciano. Together, the two of us launched ourselves off the third floor balcony, plummeting down toward the man.


    I just hoped we would be fast enough to save the other two, before Luciano could add to the count of people he had murdered.

 Non-Canon 18 - Streets And Scales

    Through the post-midnight streets, a gray sedan, entirely unremarkable, made its way past building after building. The shops were all closed at this hour, their lights off and blinds tightly shut. Beyond the car itself, there were no signs of life here. Not even the occasional slumbering homeless person in a doorway, or stray animals sniffing around for any edible treats. This part of Detroit was completely dead at this time of night. Which was a bit odd, but the car''s occupants weren¡¯t going to complain.


    ¡°So uhh, help me out here, would you?¡± The question came from Ryder Towling, or Eits given he was in costume, as he sat in the driver¡¯s seat. He wasn''t actually touching the steering wheel or the gas, allowing his mites to do that work for him so the car could continue on at its leisurely, non-attention-getting pace. Instead, his gaze was focused on the other occupant of the car. She was a slim, attractive figure in a dark blue, almost black bodysuit. Across most of the front torso was a silver star-like compass rose symbol. A similarly silver arrow ran down the back of both arms, with the tip of each arrow across the back of her dark gloves. Over the sleek bodysuit, she wore an unzipped silver jacket. A matching dark blue mask covered her entire head, with a pair of silver-tinted lenses across the eyes. She wore a pistol on one hip, and was adjusting the sawed-off shotgun in her lap.


    When Eits spoke up, Amber turned from the gun she had been examining. It held heavy bean bag rounds, while the pistol on her hip was full of tranquilizers. She wasn''t in this whole thing to kill people. Quite the opposite. She wanted to stop a murderer.


    ¡°I thought I was already helping by coming along on this job, right?¡± She was teasing him, of course. Eits was a pretty cool guy overall, but still definitely fun to tease. He had this way of blushing that was just adorable, even if it was mostly hidden by the diagonal black and gold bands that crossed his face in an X-shape while leaving his mouth uncovered.


    ¡°You¡¯re helping Blackjack and the team,¡± he reminded her. ¡°What I want right now is more about answering a question. Your power, it gives you different, uhh¡­ powers depending on which direction you¡¯re facing, right? East, west, north, south?¡±


    Shifting the shotgun out of the way, Amber gave a slow, curious nod. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right. Invulnerability, superspeed, teleportation, or intangibility for each of those. Why?¡±


    With a shrug, Eits replied, ¡°I was just wondering, how exactly do you end up with a name like Streets? That''s what everyone''s been calling you, Streets. I mean, I guess it''s sort of vaguely map-like. But not really a gambling thing, and we¡¯re all supposed to have gambling-like names, right? How do you take ¡®gambling name that has something to do with your powers¡¯ and end up with Streets?¡±


    A very slight smirk crossed Amber¡¯s face, not that he could see it under her own mask. ¡°It¡¯s actually Fourth Street. It¡¯s the term for the fourth card dealt out in various types of poker games. You know, four different powers, and street adds the whole map feel like you said. On paper, my La Casa name is Fourth Street. But everyone just calls me Streets. That¡¯s what stuck. I guess because it''s easier. Plus, I come from a pretty decent family and go to a private school, so calling me Streets is ironic. You know how people are. Always think they''re hilarious.¡±


    Snorting softly at that, Eits gave a low murmur of agreement before asking, ¡°So, wait. If you''re from a rich family and go to private school and everything, why are you doing this stuff? Just for the thrill of it? I know it¡¯s not cuz you like hurting people. You wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve joined this gang if that was it. Plus, I¡¯ve seen the way you operate. You¡¯re not a psychopath.¡±


    ¡°Gee, thanks,¡± she retorted before clearing her throat. ¡°Yeah, I''m not a psychopath. This is the best way I¡¯ve got to find¡­¡± Trailing off, Amber--or Streets, took a deep breath. Then she quietly explained about how her father had been killed by a hit-and-run driver who had stolen the car responsible. ¡°The cops came up empty, and really didn¡¯t seem to care that much. Blackjack¡¯s gonna help me find the guy who did it. He¡¯s already been working on it. We tracked down a few leads, even if they haven''t gone anywhere important yet. But I trust him a hell of a lot more than the cops. He''s been helping me. Actually, he said he--¡±


    ¡°The hit-and-run,¡± Eits interrupted with sudden realization. ¡°Right, right. He had me digging through the authority¡¯s files on that, trying to find out if they missed anything. But if you''re that guy¡¯s daughter, that makes you--¡±


    ¡°Hi.¡± Reaching up, Streets tugged off the mask and shook her dark hair out. ¡°Amber O¡¯Connell. Good to officially meet you. I think Blackjack expected this to happen. Seems like he doesn¡¯t really force identity reveals, but you know. He prefers when we can all get along.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Ryder,¡± Eits replied. ¡°So you''re trying to find out who killed your dad, huh? That¡­ that sucks. I mean, no, the reasoning doesn¡¯t suck. The fact that--I mean that is--¡±


    Despite herself, and despite the ache of pain at her own loss that sat heavily in her stomach, Amber still snickered just a little. There was that blush again. ¡°I get it, don¡¯t worry,¡± she assured him. ¡°And yeah, not having my dad around does suck. It¡¯s--¡± Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, she exhaled. ¡°It¡¯s fucking awful, believe me. But knowing that I''m gonna track that piece of shit down, that kinda helps a bit. Plus, I don¡¯t mind the rest of this. Cops already proved they don¡¯t give a shit about my dad, or about the rest of the people out there. So fuck ¡®em. Blackjack and La Casa take care of their territory and the people in it a lot more than the cops do.¡±


    Eits considered that for a moment before giving a slight nod. ¡°Sure, I get that. Can''t say I blame you for not trusting the authorities. I¡¯d be a bit of a hypocrite if I did.¡± He offered her a tiny smile then, just as the sedan pulled into the lot of a closed restaurant. ¡°Uh, guess we¡¯re here. Or as close as we can get this way.¡±


    Amber¡¯s attention was focused on the warehouse down the street. ¡°Yeah,¡± she murmured, ¡°don¡¯t wanna drive right up to the place. Guards might be dumb, but they¡¯re not that dumb.¡± That said, she opened her door and nodded toward the roof of the nearby restaurant.


    ¡°So come on, we¡¯ll take the fun way in.¡±


    *******


    ¡°Scales, Carousel, Whamline, report in. How¡¯s it going out there?¡±


    Rolling her eyes as the question came through the communicators in their ears, Dani Kalvers touched the button on her wrist that would connect her back to the Minority¡¯s homebase. ¡°Trust me, Syn, everything¡¯s fine. We do know how to run a patrol without you hovering over our shoulders, you know. You can only do so much, even if there are four of you.¡±


    The newest member of the Detroit Minority wore a dark green jumpsuit with brown boots, gloves, and cloak. The cloak¡¯s hood was up over her hair, and she had a green mask over the lower half of her face that tucked into the collar of the matching jumpsuit. Her eyes were protected by a pair of dark goggle-like sunglasses. The strap wrapped around at the back of her head to hold them on and it was hidden by the hood of the cloak.


    Syndicate, or whichever one of him was talking to them over the comm, replied flatly, ¡°We do trust you guys. But it''s still a good idea to check in. It may be quiet out there right now, but you never know when something will pop up. Trouble has a way of just¡­ coming out of nowhere. Especially lately for some reason. With just the three of you out there today--¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± the girl known as Scales interrupted, ¡°I think you mean seven of us. You didn¡¯t forget my friends, did you?¡± Even while saying that, she was glancing around to take in each of her quartet of lizard companions. Riddles the bearded dragon-turned-eagle was flying high overhead, keeping a close eye on the dark streets below. Twinkletoes, born a chameleon and currently transformed into a gorilla-like shape, was crouched on the roof of the building just above them. When Dani looked that way, he shifted out of his invisible form and waved down at her with that goofy, endearing gorilla-lizard smile. The gecko known as Tuesday, meanwhile, was in his Capuchin monkey form, scouting ahead of the group. Though in this case, scouting was less about watching for bad guys and more about digging through trash cans just in case someone had left a tasty treat behind for him. But it was the thought that counted.


    Those were the three lizards that Dani had brought with her when she joined the Minority. Finally, the fourth was one that the authorities had provided. Her name was Bumbershoot, the slang term for an umbrella. She was also the only member of Scales¡¯ pack who was not transformed at the moment. Mostly because even in her original form, Bumbershoot was already rather enormous and intimidating, a nearly eight foot long, one hundred and fifty pound Komodo dragon. She was bringing up the rear, though despite her size, the large lizard was capable of moving quite quickly if need be. Given reason, she could reach a sprint of about twelve miles per hour. Which didn¡¯t sound like much until it was a hundred and fifty pound angry lizard coming straight at you faster than the average human could run. And when she was transformed¡­ well, that was a whole other story.


    ¡°You mustn¡¯t forget each and every lizard,¡± Carousel piped up while waving toward Twinkletoes. ¡°Or we¡¯ll all ensure their ire is heard. Such great and useful friends. Be quick to make amends.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, dude,¡± Whamline put in, ¡°I''m pretty sure the big one back there might eat you if you don¡¯t play nice. And she doesn¡¯t even have to use her power on it.¡±


    ¡°Her,¡± Dani reminded him. ¡°I don¡¯t have to use my power on her.¡±


    There was a soft cough over the communicator before Syndicate assured them, ¡°Don''t worry, I remember them. And I''m glad they''re out there with you. Still, check in every half hour or so, would you? And call if anything happens. That¡¯s why I¡¯m sitting here to coordinate things if something pops up.¡±


    Dani¡¯s head shook as she glanced at the two teammates who were with her. ¡°I promise, Dad, we¡¯ll check in and let you know if anything happens. But don''t get your hopes up. I''m pretty sure this entire night is going to be the longest and most boring in recorded his--hold up.¡±


    ¡°Hold up?¡± Syndicate echoed. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Just some lights on at the warehouse on Gratiot,¡± Whamline informed him. The three of them had all looked that way and moved a bit closer to squint. ¡°Looks like one of the upper windows is broken, and we just saw a shadow move past.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get patrol cars on the way,¡± Syndicate informed them. ¡°Might just be a couple kids screwing around, or--¡±


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    ¡°Or it might be more,¡± Scales finished. ¡°You get the cops here, we''ll go in and check it out. Probably just some idiots trying to have a party. If it is, we¡¯ll scare them off. If not--well, we¡¯re ready for that. Right, guys?¡±


    ¡°Speaking for myself and not your companions of the scaled persuasion,¡± Carousel chimed in, ¡°I am quite prepared to explore this veiled invasion.¡±


    ¡°What she said,¡± Whamline agreed with a gesture that way. ¡°We can do this. Send in the backup, Syndicate. We¡¯ll be checking the place out. This is what we¡¯re out here for, to help people.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how many people we¡¯re helping by breaking up a party at some old warehouse no one ever uses,¡± Scales pointed out idly. ¡°But sure, let¡¯s get in there.¡± She was already starting to cross the street at a jog, heading straight for the small parking lot at the base of the window that had been broken.


    Her other two human companions kept pace with the girl, while her quartet of lizards spread out to watch for any problems around them. Soon, they were standing together under that clear sign of forced entry, looking up into the dark, unlit area beyond.


    ¡°Well I know we saw a shape in there before,¡± Whamline whispered. ¡°But it''s so dark in there now I don''t know how anyone could see anything.¡±


    ¡°There was a light,¡± Carousel murmured under her breath. ¡°Though not bright. They¡¯ve moved their encroach. Or perhaps saw our approach.¡±


    Dani was nodding slowly. ¡°They either moved away from this spot, or they saw us coming and doused the lights. Either way, we need to get in there and find out what''s going on. First.¡± She held out her arm until Riddles landed on it. Tuesday the monkey lizard crept over by her leg and peered up at her. ¡°You guys check it out, okay? But be careful. See there¡¯s any bad guys or idiot teenagers trying to graffiti the place.¡±


    As Riddles flew up to the broken window and Tuesday hopped and climbed his way after her, she watched from below while shaking her head. ¡°Tell you guys one thing, if it is kids trying to have a party or screw around, I¡¯m not wasting any  more time on it. I didn''t get into this job to play Gestapo.¡±


    ¡°Why did you get into it?¡± Whamline curiously asked. ¡°Just had that pressing urge to save the innocent and protect the rule of law?¡±


    It was Carousel who answered. ¡°She wants to be rich and successful. Without doing much too distressful.¡±


    ¡°What can I say? She¡¯s right.¡± Dani offered a casual shrug, still watching the window where Riddles and Tuesday had carefully poked their way through together. ¡°I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong, I don¡¯t mind helping out the people who really need someone in their corner. That¡¯s fine and dandy and all. I know what it¡¯s like to be pretty fucking down in the dumps and not have anyone. Someone gets in real trouble, I¡¯ll help out. But I feel like I can do that better with a Porsche and a big house, you know? I¡¯m gonna make a name for myself here in the Minority and earn my way into Ten Towers. I heard their Touched make bank. I¡¯ll get in there and start being really successful. Then I can help people in style. That¡¯s the plan anyway.¡±


    She heaved a quiet, thoughtful sigh and started to whisper something else, only to be interrupted by a loud crash, accompanied by a dangerous and familiar screech of anger.


    ¡°Riddles!¡± Scales shouted, gaze snapping up that way once more. The glass of the window next to the broken one shattered, as Riddles came tearing out with another loud screech. She was carrying a blood-covered gun in one hand.


    A separate screech, this one from Tuesday, filled the air then as the lizard-monkey followed his partner through the newly shattered window. In his own hands, he carried what looked like an actual literal human arm.


    ¡°What the--¡± Scales started. Before she could get any further, a much larger figure dove out the window after the two transformed reptiles. It was a human. A human missing an arm. They nearly grabbed Riddles with the remaining limb, but Twinkletoes was hanging invisibly off the edge of the building and reached out to catch hold of the figure¡¯s leg as they were in mid-lunge. Strong in his gorilla form, Twinkletoes threw the one-armed man down toward the three Minority Touched.


    Scales, Whamline, and Carousel took in the sight in front of them. The man, a brown-haired figure of absolutely no unique features that would cause him to be identifiable (beyond the obvious injury), was clearly almost entirely unfazed by the fact that he was missing an arm. Quite recently missing, given the blood that was still gushing from the elbow where it had been ripped free by something. He straightened it to his feet after being tossed down by Twinkletoes, taking in the trio of Touched around him.


    ¡°Tuesday!¡± Scales called up while sounding completely taken aback and horrified by the whole situation, ¡°Drop that arm!¡±


    ¡°Holy shit! Uhh, s-sir,¡± Whamline quickly put in while starting to step that way, ¡°You should sit down. We¡¯ll get a tourniquet or--¡±


    His confused and uncertain attempt at medical intervention, however, was interrupted as a blurred form raced past the three of them. The dark blue-and-silver-clad figure rocketed to a stop in front of the silent man, shoved a sawed-off shotgun against his chest, and pulled the trigger before any of them could react. A loud boom filled the air as the man was blown onto his back.


    Abruptly, the shotgun was torn from her grasp as Carousel extended her power that way, just before Whamline caught hold of her arms with two of his energy coils and hoisted the girl off the ground. Twinkletoes hit the ground directly in front of her, growling low.


    ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± Scales demanded, already dropping to her knees next to the maimed figure as she stared at the trapped girl.


    ¡°Streets?¡± That was Whamline, confused once more. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a killer.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re beanbag rounds, idiot!¡± Streets shot back. ¡°And I was saving your lives!¡± Even if she said that, the girl vanished from his grasp, reappearing on the opposite side of the fallen man from where Scales was. ¡°See?¡± She brought her foot down hard into his face once, then again. Then she reached down and tore the man¡¯s remaining arm out from behind his back, where the group could finally see the knife that he had been pulling out. Even then, he struggled to sit up until she kicked him in the face a third time, then once more as hard as she could. It barely seemed to affect the man, given the way he rebounded off the pavement and started to shove himself up yet again.


    ¡°Fuck, stop hitting him!¡± Scales blurted. ¡°Twinkletoes, take--¡±


    Whatever order she had been about to give was interrupted as the man managed to twist himself out from under the other girl¡¯s foot, lunging at Scales to wrap his remaining hand around her throat.


    With a loud hiss of outrage, Bumbershoot was right there. The large Komodo dragon hurled herself at the man and knocked him away from her leader before landing on top of him.


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, listen to me!¡± Streets shook her head in annoyance, already flipping the knife around as she dropped to her knees behind the man¡¯s head while Bumbershoot was still holding him down. ¡°Look!¡± He was still violently struggling against being held down, while she drove the knife three times in rapid succession into his remaining arm and shoulder. He showed no reaction to any of it aside from continued attempts to twist and jerk his way out from under the Komodo dragon.


    ¡°Okay, what the hell is going on?¡± Scales was holding the man¡¯s arm as Riddles had dropped it obediently at her feet. ¡°Dude, are you like¡­ are you immune to pain? Are you--I mean what--¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not gonna answer you, babe, trust me.¡± Streets informed her. ¡°Look, I know this is gonna make you all freak out, but there¡¯s not actually a quicker way to show you.¡±


    ¡°Show us wh--¡± That was as much as Carousel got out. Whatever she had planned on rhyming was completely cut off, as Streets drove that knife into the man¡¯s head. A collective shout rose from the three Minority Touched, but faltered as the other girl shoved the knife upward, showing them the interior of the man¡¯s head. A head devoid of any brain or blood, occupied solely by a silver orb with various wires extending down into the body.


    ¡°He¡¯s not real,¡± Streets informed the stunned group while grabbing hold of the orb and ripping it out. ¡°None of them are. Found that out the hard way up there before your other lizard buddies dropped in. This whole place is infested with these¡­ things.¡±


    ¡°What the hell are they?¡± Whamline demanded, staring in stunned shock at the now-fallen man. He had dropped like a puppet whose strings were cut as soon as the girl tore the orb out of his head.


    ¡°Beats me,¡± she replied with a shrug, gripping the silver orb tightly. ¡°Like I said, there¡¯s a whole shitload of them in there. Like they¡¯re guarding the place or something. We broke in cuz our boss thought there was some good stuff locked up inside. Given those guys, I¡¯m gonna guess it¡¯s really good stuff.¡± She eyed the three of them slyly. ¡°You wanna help us liberate it from these guys? Split it fifty fifty.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a great way to become known as a hero,¡± Scales retorted while rolling her eyes behind the dark sunglasses. ¡°Steal a bunch of stuff that doesn''t belong to us from a warehouse guarded by a bunch of¡­ weird¡­ cyborg¡­ things. What--wait, you said ¡®we¡¯ and ¡®help us¡¯. What do you mean by us?¡±


    Eits cleared his throat, coming into view from the shadows while holding a clearly injured arm. ¡°She uh, she means me.¡±


    ¡°Eits!¡± Streets blurted, ¡°I told you to stay out of sight in case these guys tried to play hero and take me in.¡± She gave Scales a brief look. ¡°Not that I¡¯d object to handcuffs from certain people.¡±


    ¡°Right, about that,¡± Eits started before coughing. ¡°I mean, not the flirting with the girl who wants to arrest us bit, the staying out of sight part. I¡¯d¡¯ve loved to, but we¡¯ve got problems. You know how you were talking about all those guys who were guarding this place? Well, they¡¯re not so much inside anymore.¡±


    The others started to ask what he meant, before Carousel raised a hand to point. Dozens upon dozens, if not over a hundred figures, were walking off the grounds in every direction, on their way to the surrounding buildings.


    ¡°They¡¯re robots, okay? Sort of, their brains are anyway,¡± Eits quickly put in. ¡°I got one of my mites in one of them, and it turns out they¡¯ve been given special orders to wipe out everyone in the area. Except that area was supposed to be ¡®on the warehouse grounds¡¯, but there was some sort of glitch and it¡¯s been expanded a bit.¡±


    ¡°Expanded how much?¡± Scales asked, squinting that way.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± With a grimace, the boy answered hesitantly, ¡°By about two miles.¡±


    Rising to her feet, Scales demanded, ¡°Are you telling us those things are gonna kill every person within a two mile radius?¡±


    ¡°Because we fucked with them,¡± Eits confirmed. ¡°Yeah. I--yeah. We set off some sort of alarm and the order came in to wipe out intruders. But like I said, there was a glitch and--¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s a hell of a lot bigger area they¡¯re wiping people out in,¡± Whamline finished. ¡°Call Syndicate, cuz we¡¯re definitely gonna need that backup. The buildings around here are all businesses, but they¡¯ll hit some living areas pretty soon if they keep going.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t wait for the backup,¡± Scales insisted. ¡°We have to get out there, we have to stop those things.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re the ones who set them off,¡± Streets put in, rising to her feet. ¡°We might be thieves, but we¡¯re not monsters. We¡¯ll help you stop them. Right, Eits?¡±


    ¡°I uh, yeah, of course.¡± His head bobbed quickly. ¡°I think I might be able to get into the main system and shut them down, but there¡¯s still some of those things in there.¡± He gestured toward the warehouse. ¡°Gonna need help getting through.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on that,¡± Whamline immediately put in. ¡°I¡¯ll get the tech geek villain to the computer so he can shut these things down.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯ll do what we can out here,¡± Scales agreed, looking toward Carousel and Streets. ¡°Guess it¡¯s time for the secret weapon.¡± Even as she said that, they could hear shattering glass and cracking wood as the army of automatons began to break into the unoccupied businesses surrounding the warehouse.


    ¡°Secret weapon?¡± Streets curiously asked. ¡°You mean better than your miniature dragon here?¡± She inclined her chin toward Bumbershoot.


    ¡°Oh, she is the weapon,¡± Scales confirmed slyly. ¡°But as for the miniature part¡­¡± Reaching out to the lizard in question, she focused. Under her power, the Komodo dragon began to grow¡­ and grow¡­ rising in size. The animal that Dani had chosen to match her with was an African savanna elephant. Without any change at all, Bumbershoot was already almost eight feet long and a hundred and fifty pounds in weight. But at her full transformed half-elephant size, she stood a towering twelve feet at the shoulder, twenty feet long, and weighed over six thousand pounds. Her armored scales became even tougher, capable of standing up against full-on automatic rifle fire, and she could run a solid thirty miles per hour. Plus, on top of all that, she had the elephant¡¯s deadly tusks matched with her own quite enlarged teeth, and the elephant¡¯s signature trunk. Which was useful for allowing her to lash out and grab onto people who tried to run away from those aforementioned tusks and teeth.


    ¡°O-oh.¡± Staring up at the transformed figure, Streets gulped. ¡°I uh... wow.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Scales confirmed. ¡°So maybe think twice before trying to double-cross us.¡± She looked out to the surrounding buildings. ¡°Now are we gonna get out there and do this or what?


    ¡°We¡¯ve got some murderborgs to deal with.¡±

 Enkindle 23-05

    My hand slapped Sierra on the back as the two of us dropped like stones toward the hard cement below. In the instant before we hit, I painted orange on both of us so we wouldn¡¯t break anything from the several-story drop. Well, to be fair Sierra¡¯s body was enhanced so it was possible she could take a drop like that. I wasn¡¯t sure how far that extended, how strong she actually was. But either way, a bit of orange paint would make certain of it. And she wouldn¡¯t be too stunned from the landing to act quickly.


    All of that flashed through my mind in the roughly two seconds it took for us to hit the ground. We each landed in a crouch, but Sierra launched herself out of it instantly. It was like her body had barely touched pavement before she was abruptly airborne once more. Only this time, she was hurtling forward instead of down. As the shadowy figure hunched over the prone Roald and Murphy, Sierra crashed into him. He started to fall forward, but she caught his shoulder and arm, pivoting to throw the man over into the wall of the building a good eight or nine feet away. He crashed into it upside down with enough force to make several of the bricks crack slightly under the impact. And yet, he didn¡¯t seem too stunned by it, dropping back to the ground and rising to his full standing position with a literal growl, like he was some sort of animal. His face was still mostly hidden in shadow, though I could see enough to recognize that it was definitely Luciano. But he was covered in what at a glance to be a mixture of dirt and dried blood. It functioned almost like a mask itself, working together with the shadows to make it even harder to pick out his individual features. Until he smiled. His teeth were gleaming white, and almost too perfect. They literally seemed to glow. While most of his face and body appeared to radiate shadows, his teeth projected soft light. It drew all attention to his mouth, almost making it seem like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, when he would make only his wide grin appear. Oh, and he smelled like a sewer. Or like the pile of garbage he had apparently been lying in. Which was just fantastic really, it added so much to the experience.


    A series of quick thoughts flew through my mind in that moment, as Sierra and I both faced off against him. First, something was absolutely and definitely wrong with this guy. This wasn¡¯t the same guy I had seen before, back at his laundromat. This was¡­ this was something wrong, something bad. I had no idea what happened to him, but he was different now. And not in a good way.


    We had to deal with this, and we had to do it quickly and quietly before we attracted too much attention. And I couldn¡¯t use my actual powers too openly, or anyone who did happen to look out their window while it was going on would be able to connect this identity to Paintball. Or Luciano himself would realize and say something. Which would tell my parents¨Cwell, not everything, but still entirely too much. We had to deal with this, and we had to do it without exposing too much.


    While I was in the midst of those thoughts, Murphy and Roald clambered to their feet. As soon as she was up, Murphy started to lunge at Luciano, but Roald stopped her, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. ¡°No, wait!¡±


    My own hands quickly grabbed both of them as well, trying to stop the two from going anywhere near that thing. I was going to tell them to stay back, but before I could say anything, something¡­ interrupted.


    ¡°No, wait!¡± The echo came from Luciano himself, sounding like a mixture of Roald¡¯s own voice and a cackling monster. Roald¡¯s voice had been a cry of alarm, this was mocking, more laughter than scream. Then it came again. ¡°No, wait!¡± He took a step closer, emerging a bit from the shadow of the building. ¡°No, wait!¡± Each repetition sounded more and more like Roald. The first had been half his voice and half something else, but each time the words came, they sounded even more like a perfect copy. Which was somehow even worse.


    And speaking of worse, finally, we could see the man¡¯s face fully. As I¡¯d thought, it was caked in dirt and blood. Then there was the bullethole. Yeah, a single bullethole centered in the middle of his forehead. It wasn¡¯t makeup. It wasn¡¯t artificial. It was a bullet hole, and we could literally see through it to the wall behind him. The bullet had gone all the way through his head and out the other side. The man in front of us was dead. Or he should have been. Or¡­ or¡­


    ¡°Oh my God.¡± That was Murphy, her eyes wide as she stared that way with her own face still covered by the mask. ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    It was clear that the man had intentionally allowed us to see his face like that. As we reacted, he opened his mouth in another broad smile. His teeth were definitely glowing, and I could actually feel a wave of heat coming off them now that he was closer. They weren¡¯t just giving off light, there was actual power there. I could literally see his lips starting to burn a bit from it, like a marshmallow left in the fire too long. They healed within seconds, before burning up again. It was a cycle of his lips and the surrounding skin being burned by his teeth and then regenerating somehow. Which made another thought flash through my mind. If his lips were being affected like that, what was happening to the inside of his mouth and throat? Was it going through the same cycle of being burned and healing? And could he feel all of it? What¨Cwhat¨C


    In the next moment, there was movement beside me, and something went flying through the air. Abruptly, the handle of a knife was sticking out of Luciano¡¯s forehead, directly next to the bullethole. The blade itself was deeply embedded in his skull. Sierra. Sierra had thrown the knife.


    Before I could even think about how to react to that, the man reached up and yanked the knife out. It came with a sickening squelching sound, like¡­ like cutting into a cantaloupe. Finally, it was free, and the man held the four-inch blade up, seeming to examine it briefly. Then his eyes rose to stare at us, while he bit into the weapon. The blade melted under his teeth, snapping apart and coming free from the handle. It was like a man eating taffy.


    ¡°Well,¡± Sierra muttered, ¡°it was worth a shot.¡± And with that, she took two quick steps before throwing herself that way, diving under his suddenly-swinging hand to roll past him before snapping her leg out to kick the back of his knees. He barely stumbled, already reaching down to grab the back of her head.


    But I hadn¡¯t exactly been standing there idle. With my hands on Murphy and Roald, I had been taking the time to put some paint over both of them as well as myself. My fingers were tucked just inside the back of their shirts so I could put the paint on the inside where it would be hidden. Then, even as the man went to grab Sierra¡¯s head, I was moving. Activating the green, orange, and purple paint on all three of us, I launched myself that way with a scream. Hopefully it would catch the man¡¯s attention, slow him down even just for an instant.


    It worked. Well, sort of. It did stop the man from grabbing Sierra, his attention turning to me instead. On the other hand, his uhh, well, hand lashed out to smack me. It came up faster than I could react, and hit me hard enough to send my body flying sideways to crash into the windshield of a car hard enough to send spiderweb cracks through it. Even with my orange paint, it still hurt. But hey, at least I had his attention, which was a good thing?


    Dazed as I was, some part of me still realized that he had already smacked Murphy and Roald away and was lunging in my direction. So I shoved my foot down and managed to kick myself off the hood of the car, falling off the side of it just as he landed against the front and slammed his two fists down right where I had been a second earlier. The blow caved in the hood entirely, and a burst of white-hot flames flew off in either direction, nearly singeing the top of my head as I fell onto the pavement.


    Making matters worse (as if they needed any help with that) was the fact that the stuffed bra kept getting in my way. Even just then, as I had been lunging after the man or rolling off the car, it interfered. It made me feel off-balance. It was¨Cfuck. It was just wrong. I couldn¡¯t work properly with this fucking thing in my way. And I was starting to feel like being slowed down or thrown off, even a little bit, was a very bad idea right now.


    I was rolling backward to pick myself up as Luciano rose. The two arms he had used to slam into the hood were really fucked up. The skin and most of the muscle had been burnt away, revealing clearly horrifically cracked bones underneath. Bones which stitched themselves together before the muscle and then skin returned in those brief couple of seconds while I was watching. But it didn¡¯t return as normal, fresh skin. The Latino man¡¯s skin was pale and rotting, like a dead man. Even after regenerating, it still made him look like a corpse. Because, as far as I could tell, that¡¯s what he was. But he was a mobile corpse. Like a zombie, or¡­ or¡­


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    Fucked up. That¡¯s what he was. He was severely fucked up.


    Refreshing the paint on myself and triggering another set that I had put on Murphy and Roald, I quickly threw myself onto the roof of the car, landing next to the man. Before he could do anything, I caught hold of his hair with one hand and the back of his neck with the other, using all the considerable strength I had in that moment to slam his head as hard as I could into the windshield. If he could regenerate from everything else, including the knife that had been thrown through his head, I wasn¡¯t worried about doing too much damage just then.


    Besides, I was still trying to figure out if he was even alive or not. With that bullet hole, and the damage he¡¯d ignored already, it¡­ it wasn¡¯t looking good on that front. But what the hell was the alternative? What the hell had happened to Luciano?


    One thing that certainly wasn¡¯t happening to him was any real damage from me slamming his head as hard as I could into the windshield. The window itself cracked under the blow, but he seemed fine. Or as fine as someone who looked like a walking corpse could seem.


    Sierra was right there, catching him by his shoulders as he jerked himself free of my grasp. With one foot, I kicked the already-ajar driver¡¯s side door open, so she could slam his head through that window. His arm tried to reach up to grab her, but I grabbed it and yanked the arm through the window and out a bit so it was right where the door needed to go when it closed.


    Which Murphy and Roald took advantage of, slamming into the door with their shoulders so the door slammed shut on his arm. It snapped audibly, bending in the wrong direction to the point of nearly falling off entirely. It was disgusting and horrifying to see.


    And yet, Luciano gave no real reaction to it. Well, aside from the fact that he shoved himself backward. Murphy and Roald were knocked to the ground and barely managed to roll away from his stomping feet, while Sierra was sent flying over to crash into a different car a few feet away. Meanwhile, his shattered arm still had enough strength in it to send me flying in the opposite direction with a single vicious shake as I was clinging to his wrist.


    A moment later, all the damage was undone. All of it we had inflicted anyway. His arm was back to looking like it always had, the exposed bones sealed up once more as it snapped back into the proper direction with an audible pop. His face had a little more fresh blood to go with all the dried bits, but the wounds from being shoved through multiple windows had all been healed. He looked, well, still dead. But nothing we had done stuck at all. Through that whole bit, we hadn¡¯t accomplished anything. I was starting to worry that I would have no choice but to openly use my powers. Which would just complicate everything even more. But what choice did I have? If it came down to that or letting this¡­ guy hurt anyone else, I knew what I had to do.


    Luciano was facing me at the moment. Sierra had picked herself up, grabbing a nearby broken pipe from the ground while standing directly behind him. Murphy and Roald were to one side, both barely managing to get up after he had so-casually smacked them down even with the boost I¡¯d given them. They looked like they wanted to jump in but weren¡¯t exactly sure how to accomplish anything. Not after what he had just shrugged off. We had to find some way of keeping him down, but how?


    ¡°Anyone got any ideas?¡± I called, trying to stop myself from freaking out too much. I¡¯d seen a lot in the past couple months, but facing off against what I was becoming rapidly convinced was an actual dead guy like this? That was a bit much. And if I was having an issue, I can¡¯t imagine what was going through Murphy¡¯s mind.


    Speaking of Murphy, Luciano¨Cor whatever this thing should have been called, spoke up with her voice. Her voice, but my words. ¡°Anyone got any ideas?¡± Then he spoke in Roald¡¯s voice. ¡°Anyone got any ideas?¡± That repeated for Sierra¡¯s voice, then mine. He made each of our voices ask if we had any ideas. Then he laughed. Only it didn¡¯t sound much like laughter. It sounded like the grinding noise a garbage truck made. His shoulders shook, and he made that horrible ¡®laugh¡¯ while continuing to stare right at me. And then, all at once and with no warning, the laughter stopped. He went completely and utterly silent. He made no sound, and no move. He was as still as a statue. Or a corpse, aside from the fact that he was standing up.


    In that moment, Sierra apparently had an idea called ¡®hit him in the back with the pipe.¡¯ She was already lunging that way, pipe swinging. Her movement was almost impossibly fast. Even without a boost from me, she was still incredibly quick, the pipe giving a sharp whistle as it swung fast enough through the air to put even the strongest major league baseball hitter to shame. And then¡­ she missed. The pipe went flying out of her hands, sailing right past the man to embed itself deep in the ground. The jaggedly sharp metal end stuck out and up, like a¨C


    Oh. She didn¡¯t miss. That realization came to me just as Sierra dodged his grasping, already-burning hands when he tried to grab for her. Then she flipped herself up and backwards, feet lashing out to kick into the man¡¯s chest in the process. She used that to throw herself further back while propelling him in the opposite direction.


    The other two had picked up on things as well, and both leapt to grab his arms, even as I activated another round of paint for the three of us and threw myself that way. Still stumbling from the kick, he made another garbage truck laughter sound as I caught hold of his shoulders. Not that holding on to him was a very good idea, given it felt almost like holding a hot stove. I was pretty sure that if we hadn¡¯t been protected by the orange paint in that second, all three of us would have had our clothes and possibly skin melted right off. Which was just such a lovely thought, really.


    There were three of us, all enhanced by some purple paint, and yet we could still barely hold onto him. Murphy had his left arm, Roald his right, and I was grabbing his shoulders. And he was still too strong. Thinking quickly, I put yellow paint on his back. He wouldn¡¯t see it, and neither would anyone who happened to be looking out their window. It slowed him down, made it harder for him to actually exert force. Between that and the three of us with our enhanced strength, we managed to pull him backward one step after another until he was closer to the broken metal pipe that was sticking out of the ground.


    Sierra took a running start, giving herself room to build up momentum. From a few feet away,  she launched herself at the man. He smiled that bright, literally glowing smile, and I felt the heat from it. His grin was bright enough to light up the parking lot around us, almost blindingly so. In the next instant, Sierra crashed into him. She hit the man full-force in the chest just as I shoved down on his shoulders and the other two did the same with his arms.


    He went down hard, impaling himself through the stomach with that pipe. Not that we expected that to last long after everything we had already seen, but at that moment, he was pinned like a butterfly in a collector¡¯s case.


    ¡°Dumpster!¡± Sierra blurted. She was already lunging sideways toward one that was sitting against the nearby wall.


    Without even questioning it, given the time constraints I knew we were working under, I followed suit. Murphy and Roald were close enough that I was able to grab hold of them, giving another boost. Then the four of us yanked the dumpster over. It was entirely too heavy for us to pick up, even with four of us using boosted strength. But it was also on wheels, so we pulled it and did manage to tip the thing upside down. An avalanche of trash came falling out, even as we hoisted the thing up and over, covering Luciano. My last glimpse of him was the man grabbing the metal pipe sticking out the front of his stomach and making it melt under his grip. So yeah, something told me this dumpster wasn¡¯t going to last very long. But then, we didn¡¯t have a lot of options here. It would give us a second to regroup at the very least. We had to find some way of keeping him down. But how? I didn¡¯t bring any cuffs, and even if I had, he could just melt through them. Ropes, chains, we had nothing, and anything we might have had would be useless to keep him contained for long. What the hell were we supposed to do? He healed from everything we hit him with, and he could burn through anything we tried to hold him with.


    The four of us grouped up once more, and I gave the others, including Sierra this time, a few more shots of paint boosts. Whatever came next, I wanted to be ready. Together, we watched the dumpster,  ready to move the instant he showed himself.


    And yet, nothing happened. For several long, tense seconds, we stared at that dumpster. My heart was racing, and I felt my stomach twisting itself around in anticipation of the terrible thing that was about to show itself. But¡­ there was nothing. The silence dragged on until Sierra and I glanced at each other. Together, we took a couple of cautious steps that way and tapped the side of the dumpster. There was no response, no nothing. So, the four of us exchanged looks before shrugging. I triggered some of the paint, and we carefully pushed the dumpster over before jumping back.


    It was empty. Well, there was trash on the ground, but that was it. There was no sign of Luciano at all. No hole, no¡­ nothing. He was just gone. He had managed to completely vanish into thin air.


    While we stood there and stared at the empty spot where he should have been, Fred pulled up with the car. ¡°Hey, we getting out of here or what?¡± He paused as we turned to stare at him. ¡°What?


    ¡°What did I miss?¡±

 Enkindle 23-06

    So, we had a lot to talk about on the drive back to Detroit. Part of me wanted to stay and keep looking through that apartment, or even hunt for Luciano himself. But it was too dangerous. Not just because the man could ambush us again, but also because I was pretty sure the distant sirens we heard were thanks to someone calling the cops about the disturbance. No way did we want to stick around and try to explain what was going on, especially given I wasn¡¯t dressed up like Paintball. It would raise far too many questions. And potentially expose too much to my parents. Overall, being found there by the authorities was a terrible idea in general.


    Not that we were able to come up with many answers on the ride. After telling Fred about what had happened, he was even more freaked out and confused than we had been. And that was a pretty high bar to start with. None of us understood exactly what all that had been about, aside from guessing that Luciano had Touched. But what the fuck kind of Touch had it been? He was dead, like, he had a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. But he was still moving around and acting like it didn¡¯t bother him. Plus, he regenerated from everything we did, was incredibly strong and pretty fast, and he gave off that heat. Especially from his glowing teeth. It just¨Cthe whole thing was¨Che had powers. That much was clear. But the rest of it, the fact that he seemed to be a living, mobile corpse? That was new. And incredibly fucked up.


    Once we got back to the pawn shop, we talked to Wren and Paige about it too. And that didn¡¯t help either. Paige beat herself up a bit about not coming with us, but Sierra and I both told her to knock it off. We¡¯d gotten out of there just fine. Well, relatively speaking.


    Then there was Peyton, who had apparently snuck out of her room and came back to the shop to wait for us once her mother got home from the hospital and went to bed. Hearing our story, she clearly felt even worse than Paige did that she hadn¡¯t come with. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, guys. I should¡¯ve¨C¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have done anything different,¡± I insisted. ¡°Your mom needed your help. What about her friend, is she¨C¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± Peyton replied immediately. ¡°I mean, she¡¯ll be okay. She just tripped on the steps and broke her leg. Nothing nefarious or, uh, Touched-related.¡± Even as she said that, I could tell that some part of her mind had been entertaining the paranoid notion that the Ministry had somehow attacked her mother¡¯s friend to get at her. Obviously they wouldn¡¯t need to be that circumspect about it. If they knew she was involved with the break-in at their base, they would have been a lot more direct than breaking her mother¡¯s friend¡¯s leg. Still, I couldn¡¯t blame her for having the thought. Hell, I had too, for just a very brief second before dismissing it.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s good,¡± Roald started, before visibly blanching. ¡°I mean, not good that your mom¡¯s friend broke her leg. Just¨C¡± He winced, gesturing a little with both hands as though trying to explain with sign language what his mouth couldn¡¯t put into words. ¡°You know what I mean.¡±


    Peyton gave a very slight, almost imperceptible smirk. ¡°I know.¡± She nudged him. ¡°It¡¯s cool. You guys are the ones who ended up almost dying out there. I should apologize to you.¡±


    ¡°Nobody should apologize to anybody,¡± I immediately put in, before amending, ¡°I mean, there¡¯s a lot of people who need to apologize¨Cnobody here needs to apologize about going or not going anywhere. We all did what we needed to do. And we got out of there without losing any people or any limbs. It wasn¡¯t pretty, but we made it.¡±


    ¡°So what do you think happened to Luciano?¡± That was Wren. She was hovering several feet off the floor, wings beating the air rapidly like a dragonfly while ¡®sitting¡¯ cross-legged. ¡°Did he really turn into a zombie?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as zombies,¡± Paige informed her simply.


    ¡°Says the walking artificial biological construct puppeted by a robot ball that¡¯s been stuffed with a copy of a girl¡¯s brain,¡± Sierra pointed out with a snort. She was squinting that way, which was still weird to see coming from my own face now that she¡¯d taken the mask off. It was like staring into a mirror. Or a photograph, given I wasn¡¯t making that expression at the moment. Except she had blonde hair and¨Cit was weird. It was just plain weird, even now that I¡¯d had a whole day to get used to it.


    Okay, yeah, it was just possible that this would take longer than one day to actually ¡®get used to.¡¯


    ¡°And yeah,¡± Sierra continued, ¡°that applies to me too. I¡¯m just saying, weirder things than zombies have happened in this world. And nobody knows what exactly those orbs are capable of. Err, the Summus Proelium orbs, not our orbs.¡±


    ¡°Too many orbs,¡± Peyton complained. ¡°Couldn¡¯t your dad have made your computer selves out of, I dunno, pyramid shapes?¡±


    ¡°Sure, we¡¯ll add that to the list of reasons we need to smack the shit out of him,¡± Sierra replied. ¡°It¡¯s already a long list, but I¡¯m not gonna object to another excuse to put my fist through his teeth.¡±


    Clearing my throat, I looked toward Wren. ¡°We don¡¯t know what happened to Luciano. My only guess is that he somehow Touched right as he was dying, and it kept him alive. I know-um, people can survive being shot in the head. Maybe whoever thought they killed him dumped the body and he managed to stay alive long enough for an orb to show up and it¡­ the powers it gave him are keeping him functional? I don¡¯t know why it¡¯s healing everything except that bullet hole, but maybe it considers that to be the normal state of his body or something.¡±


    ¡°But who killed him?¡± Roald hesitantly asked, sounding even more confused than I felt. ¡°Or tried to, I mean. Was it the Ministry? Why would they go to all the trouble of getting him out of town, just to turn around and execute him?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they wanted to follow the letter of their agreement,¡± Paige pointed out. ¡°He paid them to get him out of town, so they did. Then they killed him for making a mess of things and attracting attention. Think about it, they rely on keeping things quiet and calm. Things already aren¡¯t quiet and calm, but he made it worse. He went out and started shooting a bunch of people, and something tells me he didn¡¯t have their permission for that. They were probably a little annoyed. Especially since he wasn¡¯t supposed to know anything about them.¡±


    That made me blink. ¡°He wasn¡¯t supposed to know about them?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it was in there.¡± She nodded toward one of the hard drives. ¡°Luciano was never on their actual payroll. One of their other¡­ agents gave him the number to call if he was in trouble. From the notes someone added to it, the leaders weren¡¯t happy about that. Sounds like the cop who gave him the number was supposed to get a talking to about it.¡±


    Absorbing that, I rocked back on my heels thoughtfully. ¡°So Luciano wasn¡¯t even supposed to know about them. But some cop he knew gave him the number and he called for help getting out of town. They gave him the price, and he paid it. But why was he so desperate to get that money in the first place? I mean, think about it. What¡¯s the order of events here? He went nuts trying to collect money and that got him in trouble so he had to leave town. But he used the money he collected while going nuts to pay for his passage. So why¡¯d he need to get it in the first place? What happened to make him decide he had to blow up his whole life here, collect everything he was owed in one night, piss off the whole city, and bounce?¡±


    ¡°You mean something had to have happened before he went nuts and started shooting people,¡± Murphy put in, her voice sounding thick with emotion. ¡°Before he shot my brother.¡±


    Grimacing despite myself, I nodded. ¡°Exactly. What happened to make him decide he had to go that far? He pissed everyone off and had to skip town because of all the commotion he made. But what made him decide he had to make that commotion to begin with? Obviously he decided he had to leave town before all that. Trying to collect what everyone owed him, and shooting the people who didn¡¯t pay up, was about getting as much money as he could in one day. So what made him so desperate to get out of town in the first place?¡±


    ¡°If the Ministry knows,¡± Paige replied, ¡°it wasn¡¯t in any of the notes that we stole. At least not that I can find. From the sound of things, they were barely aware of him until he called for assistance. But we do know that he made the call before he started going around shooting people. He called them, they named their price for getting him out, and then he got the money they asked for by¡­ by doing all that.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t he just leave the normal way?¡± Fred demanded. The man was staring at us in disbelief and confusion. ¡°I mean, the whole reason he had to get the Ministry to help him escape in the first place was because of all the heat on him. But he only had that heat because of what he did to get the money to pay the Ministry to get him out¨Cwhat?¡±


    My mouth opened, then shut as I frowned. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. That doesn¡¯t make sense. There had to be some reason besides the chaos he made that night for why he had to get out of town fast and couldn¡¯t just leave the normal way. Maybe he had some other people watching him, or¡­ something? I dunno. But there had to be something, and apparently the Ministry didn¡¯t know about it. Yet it was enough to make him that desperate to leave.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we need to look into that too,¡± Paige murmured thoughtfully. ¡°There has to be a reason, and it might be related to his situation now. Or maybe it¡¯ll tell us what he¡¯s planning to do. If he¡¯s got power now, if he can¡¯t be killed, he might show up in town to find whoever made him so desperate to leave in the first place. You know, for revenge.¡±


    Sierra glanced to me, her voice flat. ¡°Or he might want revenge against the Ministry themselves. If they were the ones responsible for his¨Chis not-death, or whatever.¡± She made a face, sighing heavily. ¡°This whole thing is confusing. Too bad we couldn¡¯t get answers out of Luciano himself.¡±


    ¡°We can,¡± Murphy put in sharply, ¡°as soon as we find that piece¨C¡± She hesitated, glancing toward Wren.


    ¡°That piece of shit,¡± Wren herself promptly put in. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m not a baby, and he¡¯s earned being called a bad word. Right, Uncle Fred?¡±


    With a faint cough, Fred himself hesitated only slightly before shrugging. ¡°Yeah, sure. No soap for anyone¡¯s mouth. Let¡¯s just try not to make too much of a habit out of it.¡± Even as the man said that, I could see the look of disbelief crossing his face. Clearly, he didn¡¯t consider himself the sort of person to make a big deal out of cursing. At least, not until he had found himself in the position of caretaker for a little girl like Wren.


    Peyton spoke up after we had all exchanged glances. ¡°We have to find the guy and trap him somehow, but then what? And how do we trap him to begin with? You said he melted through everything you tried to hold him with, and even once you put the dumpster on him, he just¡­¡±


    ¡°He disappeared,¡± Roald finished flatly. ¡°No hole in the dumpster, or the ground, or anything. He just vanished.¡±


    ¡°Which means he¡¯ll be even harder to trap than if he just had the burning power,¡± I confirmed. ¡°We don¡¯t even know how he disappeared. Can he teleport? Or¨Cor whatever. I dunno. We don¡¯t know anything about it. Which is just fantastic, really. Because we didn¡¯t already have enough problems with the whole burning living zombie who regenerates from everything you throw at him part. He¡¯s gotta be Houdini too.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget about how he killed more people when he ripped their throats out,¡± Sierra noted, hoisting herself up to perch on the edge of one of the counters. ¡°I mean he was already a murderer before, but still. There¡¯s a difference between shooting someone with a gun and¡­ that.¡± She grimaced just a bit at the thought.


    Murphy straightened a little, her voice quiet. ¡°Either way, they end up dead. He¡¯s killed a lot of people, including my brother. So we have to catch him somehow. We have to stop him.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should tell the Ministry,¡± Peyton mused. When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. ¡°What? I don¡¯t mean we walk up, tell them who we are, and ask for help. I mean anonymously. If they¡¯re the ones who had him executed¨Cor tried to, he¡¯ll be after them too. So they should want to put a stop to him. He knows too much and he¡¯s too dangerous. Plus, they¡¯ve got a lot more resources than we do, obviously. Why not point them at him and let those people deal with it? Like Roald was saying about telling them about the whole Pittman situation.¡±


    I felt funny about that suggestion, for several reasons. But I shook it off and replied, ¡°I¡¯m not sure how we get the information to them quietly, without letting them know who we are or how we found out. An anonymous tip, but to where? Wait, there¡¯s probably phone numbers in those notes we stole, right?¡±


    ¡°Plenty of them,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be hard to make an anonymous call. Just have to decide what exactly to tell them.¡±


    ¡°And while we¡¯re at it, we should tell the actual authorities too,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Again, anonymously. We can let them know what we saw him do, what he¡¯s capable of, as much as possible without giving away our actual identities. I don¡¯t want him to take the whole city by surprise. I mean¡­ they won¡¯t have a lot of reason to believe we aren¡¯t lunatics making stuff up, but still. We have to say something about it.¡±


    Paige gave a heavy sigh. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a problem if we¡¯d been able to put him down in the first place. I¨CI¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t there.¡±


    ¡°I was,¡± Sierra reminded her. ¡°And trust me, you wouldn¡¯t have been able to do that much more than I did.¡±


    With a wince, Paige replied, ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to say that I could¨CI just¨CI¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t there. If anything had happened to you, or Paintball, or any of you¨C¡±


    ¡°It would¡¯ve happened to you too,¡± Sierra finished firmly. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have been any better prepared to face that guy, believe me. Besides,¡± she added while munching on a cookie that Wren had been holding out to her, ¡°your job was to go through those hard drives. We did our part¨Cokay we didn¡¯t exactly solve the issue, but still. What¡¯d you find out?¡±


    Paige hesitated, making it clear that she thought we should keep talking about the Luciano thing. But it was equally clear that we couldn¡¯t really do anything about it right then. And the other stuff was important too. So, she exhaled and gave a short nod. ¡°Right, yeah there was interesting stuff. A lot of it we¡¯ll have to take a little bit at a time, like names and accounting numbers. There¡¯s a list of people in the government who pay or do favors for them, but it¡¯s not clear just how much those people know. Most of them are really¡­ compartmentalized. Like a terrorist cell. They only know their immediate supervisor, and usually they have no idea just how big the whole thing is. They all think the organization is a lot smaller than the whole city. Hell, a lot of them just think they¡¯re giving information, money, or whatever to a single guy who happens to have something over on them. Blackmail, a paycheck, whatever.


    ¡°For most of these people, it¡¯s not like they go clock in every day and get a paycheck from ¡®The Ministry.¡¯ They do their ordinary jobs, I mean, some not so ordinary, but still. They do their jobs as a policeman, or an accountant in the mayor¡¯s office, or as a guard in the prison, or whatever. Then a phone rings and a voice tells them to do something. Which they do, and then they get an envelope with some money in it. And then they don¡¯t hear from the voice until they need to do something else. That¡¯s the biggest part of the Ministry, just low-level¡­ contractors, for lack of a better term. They do a job they¡¯re told to do, and get paid for that moment. And most of them don¡¯t even know what that piece amounts to. They¡¯re a small part of the puzzle. Open a door at the right time, lock a gate at the wrong time, pass a list of names along, names they sometimes don¡¯t know anything about. They don¡¯t have the full puzzle, so they can¡¯t figure out what¡¯s actually going on. Some are being blackmailed or threatened to make them stay in line and accept their money quietly. Others are just in it willingly. Either way, they don¡¯t know the full extent of any of it.¡±


    With that, Paige perched herself against the nearby counter, shaking her head. ¡°However the Ministry set this up, they managed to keep almost every piece of the organization separate and mostly clueless about the others.¡± She glanced to me briefly, our eyes meeting before she went on. ¡°The ones they don¡¯t trust are watched over by ones they trust slightly more, and so on up the ranks. Everyone is watching each other, and they never know which of their superiors or even subordinates are part of it, or being paid to keep an eye on them. Sometimes the Ministry pays one of them to keep an eye on someone who isn¡¯t connected to the organization at all, just to confuse them and make them question whether that person knows something.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like it could get really fu¨Cfreaking complicated,¡± Murphy pointed out, correcting herself with a glance toward Wren while shaking her head. ¡°How do they keep track of everything?¡±


    ¡°They do have people who know the truth, or most of it,¡± Paige replied. ¡°It¡¯s just that the full organization is mostly made up of people who only know little bits and pieces. The leaders are really careful about how much information gets out there.¡±


    Roald cleared his throat, speaking up hesitantly. ¡°Uh, what about those leaders? Is there anything about them? Like¡­ who they are? That¡¯s probably pretty important information.¡±


    Murphy was nodding rapidly. ¡°Hey, yeah. Who runs this group? They¡¯ve gotta be important. Like, the police commissioner or one of the Star-Touched leaders. Oh, what about Caishen? She¡¯s all about making money off Touched stuff. Hell, Ten Towers would be the perfect organization, right? They¡¯re already, like¡­ you know, set up for all that. They¡¯re an established group of super-rich companies, they have the infrastructure, the contacts, she has reason to go into all those places without raising anyone¡¯s suspicion, she can go back and forth between the corporate world, the government people, and even the cops without anyone batting an eye.¡± Even as she spoke, the girl¡¯s words started getting louder and faster as she grew more and more into the idea. ¡°That¡¯s gotta be it, right? That¡¯s how they¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not her,¡± I quickly put in, not wanting her to go barking too far up that particular tree. Fred, Wren, Peyton, and Roald had all started to look pretty convinced through that, while Sierra and Paige had glanced toward me.


    ¡°What?¡± Murphy blinked, before frowning slightly. ¡°How do you know it¡¯s not her?¡±


    I froze, my mouth opening while no actual sound came out. I had been planning to¨Cokay I had been trying to plan how to talk to them all separately, Peyton first. But this¡­ ¡°You guys all¨Cyou¡¯ve done more than I ever could have expected. And some of you almost died tonight thanks to whatever Luciano is now. I¨Cyou helped break into the Ministry base, you¡¯ve kept that secret, you¨Cyou¡¯ve done more than enough. More than you should¡¯ve had to do before I told you the truth.¡±


    ¡°The truth about what?¡± Peyton asked, glancing from me to Murphy and Roald, then back again.


    No more stalling. No more excuses. It was¡­ it was past time. ¡°The truth about me,¡± I replied, straightening up as I reached for the ski mask I was still wearing. ¡°About who I really am.


    ¡°And about my parents.¡±

 Enkindle 23-07

    Needless to say, there were some surprised looks when I pulled the mask off and dropped it onto the nearby table. Surprised looks from everyone, really, though for different reasons. Sierra and Paige looked surprised that I had actually done it, while the other five were clearly shocked at what they actually saw. Not instantly, of course. There was confusion first, about what the hell I was doing or what my point was. Then I could see as they realized what they were looking at.


    ¡°Wait¨C¡± Roald started. His gaze snapped from me over to Sierra and back again, mouth opening and shutting. He was clearly trying to put the whole thing together, though his brain seemed to have short-circuited somewhat. Which was fair, given the circumstances.


    The others weren¡¯t faring any better, for the most part. Murphy kept pointing at Sierra and then back to me while making confused noises in the back of her throat. It was part-choke, part-whine, and part-stammer. Fred was just gaping silently, and Peyton had actually sat down heavily in the chair behind her with an audible thunk followed by a squeak as the force of her falling into it slid the chair backward along the floor.


    Wren was the first to actually find her voice, wings carrying her up near the ceiling in her sudden excitement and confusion. She hovered there, calling down, ¡°Paintball! You¡¯re Sierra! Wait, no, the other way! Sierra, you¡¯re Paintball! Wait, wait¨C¡±


    Sierra gave a very slight smirk, gesturing idly with one hand. ¡°No, you pretty much nailed it. This body was built from Paintball¡¯s DNA. Not that our dad knows that. I mean, he doesn¡¯t know she¡¯s Paintball.¡±


    ¡°She?!¡± That word was what Murphy jumped on, grabbing it like a drowning person being thrown a lifeline. She was pointing at me once more. ¡°You¡¯re a she! You¡¯re she! She¡¯s¨Cyou¨Cnot he, she, that¡¯s a she, you¡¯re¨Cthat is¨CI don¡¯t¨Cgirl! Girl!¡± It was like that word was all she could manage to keep repeating.


    Looking down at the floor for a moment as I fought back a deep blush, I finally cleared my throat. ¡°I uhh, yeah, That¡¯s about the size of it. Yes¨Cwait.¡± My voice was still that of a boy, which really confused everything. So, I reached up and took the Bluetooth device out of my ear, hitting the button to turn it off before speaking again with my normal voice while fidgeting with the device in my hand. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m a girl. Yeah, I¡¯ve been lying to everyone about that. Well, almost everyone. I¨C¡± Squirming a bit uncomfortably as they all stared at me, I muttered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You mean you¡¯ve been a girl this whole time?!¡± Peyton blurted, her eyes widening dramatically. She pushed herself back up from the same chair she had just dropped into.


    ¡°Well I didn¡¯t just change,¡± I managed reflexively before flushing even more. ¡°I mean yes, this is me. This is who I¡¯ve always been. It was easier to hide my identity by pretending to be a boy.¡± Even as I said those words, the awkwardness felt worse. Not just because I was telling them about how much I had lied, but also because this was me as myself rather than hiding behind the identity of Paintball. I hadn¡¯t fully realized up until that point how much the mask and helmet had allowed me to pretend to be another person. Which was really weird given the actual situation. The anonymity of being Paintball rather than Cassidy really had affected me more than I thought. Revealing myself like this, talking to them as myself rather than through the mask, helmet, and voice changer made me feel a lot more vulnerable. Especially because it was happening all at once. I was exposing myself to all five of them, rather than having separate discussions the way I¡¯d planned originally. This whole thing was a lot.


    But if I thought it was a lot for me, it had to be pretty heavy for them too. And they didn¡¯t even know the half of it yet. If they thought their minds were blown now¡­


    Clearing my throat, I straightened up to look at all of them. They had fallen silent for the moment, just staring at me while absorbing what I¡¯d said. So, I continued. ¡°Like I said, I pretended to be a boy because it¡¯s easier to hide my identity that way. Especially because it means I can pretend to be younger than I really am. And it¡¯s important that I hide who I am. I mean, even more important than it would be for most people.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± That was Peyton, sputtering a bit as she added, ¡°I mean, why would Paige and Sierra¡¯s dad have a special body made that looks like you?! He didn¡¯t make it because you¡¯re Paintball, they said he doesn¡¯t even know that you¡¯re Paintball. And besides, it would have been made a long time ago, right? So the only reason he¡¯d make a body that looks like you is if he had some kind of history with you before, but what kind of history could it be? I mean, who are you to him? Who are you at all? What¨Cwait¨C¡±


    She started to continue along those lines, while the others began to sputter questions too, making things difficult to keep track of. It was starting to spiral. But I held up both hands to hold them off. ¡°It¡¯s okay, guys, I¡¯m going to explain, I promise. Maybe I should¡¯ve explained the whole thing before, but¡­ but I was nervous. I mean¨Csorry. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry I lied to you guys for so long. But there¡¯s a reason I¡¯m so¡­ I¡¯m sorry. Just let me explain, please?¡±


    They all stared at me for another moment before Peyton showed up from her chair and nodded. Her voice cracked just a little. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Paintball. Or¡­ or whoever you are. You can tell us the truth. We¡¯re listening.¡±


    Her words were met with an assortment of nods from the others, even Paige and Sierra, who were staying in the background and being quiet through most of this. I¡¯d actually gotten through the initial bombshell of showing my face and revealing that I was a girl, and now they were ready for me to actually explain the situation. Which, of course, would involve several more bombshells. But whatever, there was no turning back now, so here went nothing. And given the situation, I decided that I might as well start with a big one


    ¡°My name is Cassidy,¡± I informed them, my own voice faltering just a bit before I forced myself to continue. ¡°Cassidy Evans.¡±


    Yeah, that sure got a reaction. Everyone did even have more of a double-take than they had when I first revealed my face. Fred managed an incredulous, ¡°Cassidy Evans? As in the daughter of¨Cwas in the¨CI pointed a gun at Cassidy Evans?!¡± His voice rose to an almost amusing shrill shriek with that exclamation. I could see and hear the reaction across his face and in his words. ¡°You¡¯re like, the richest, most important kid in town and I just¨Cand I was¨Coh God.¡± It was his turn to sit down heavily in the nearest chair, clearly playing through what could have happened in his head. ¡°If I shot you, if you¨Cif your parents¨C¡± It sounded like he was about to be sick, his face pale.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I assured him. ¡°You didn¡¯t know. I mean¨C wait, what am I saying, of course it wasn¡¯t okay. You were kind of being a jerk at the time. But whatever, my point is this doesn¡¯t make it worse. Or it does, but not for the reason you¨Cnever mind. You¡¯re right though, it would¡¯ve been bad if you shot me and my parents found out, because¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s them, isn¡¯t it?¡± That was Peyton. ¡°They¡¯re the ones behind this whole Ministry thing. They¡¯re the ones in charge. That¡¯s how you know for a fact that it isn¡¯t Caishen, and why you¡¯ve been so obsessed with hiding your identity. That¡¯s why it¡¯s so important that everyone thinks you¡¯re a boy, a younger boy even. Because if anyone would recognize you as a girl, it¡¯s your parents. And you really don¡¯t want them to, because they¡¯re the ones you¡¯re trying to stop.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, I nodded that way. ¡°Yeah, you pretty much nailed it. I found out the truth about my family the same time I got my powers, a couple months ago.¡±


    From there, I went on to explain the situation from the start. They all fell silent and watched while I started with hiding inside the car that night. Well, mostly silent. They did have a bit of an exclamation when I mentioned that I was hiding in one of the cars in our garage. But that quieted down soon enough, mostly because they wanted to hear the whole story.


    So, I told them. I explained about what I¡¯d seen that night, about Touching the orb, getting my powers and using them accidentally for the first time, about hiding under the dumpster, hearing my brother, then eavesdropping on my mother and him at home, going out that first night in my makeshift costume and finding out my dad was Silversmith, and so on. I told them about the whole thing, the full story about what I had been through over the last couple of months. It was a lot to get through, especially given the way they were staring at me.


    I did leave out a couple of things, of course. I didn¡¯t tell them about Raindrop being Izzy and living with me, or about That-A-Way being Amber. Those weren¡¯t my secrets to tell, so I had to leave them out. Those two weren¡¯t here to say it was okay. If they wanted to reveal themselves later, that was up to them. I wasn¡¯t going to force the issue. This was enough for now.


    Once I had finished explaining everything that I could, including the whole bit about my history with Paige, who Anthony was and what had happened to my memory, and so on, I finally took a drink from the can of soda that Paige had offered me partway through that. ¡°So,¡± I announced hesitantly after swallowing hard, ¡°that¡¯s the truth. That¡¯s who I am and why I¡¯ve been lying. Like I said, I had to hide my identity from my parents. They¡¯ve got people everywhere, and I didn¡¯t know who to trust. I still don¡¯t, really. Except for you guys. You guys have earned that. So have Way and Raindrop, but they already know who I am.¡±


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°They do?¡± Murphy managed. ¡°They already¨Cwait so you know who they are?¡±


    Grimacing a little, I hesitated before nodding. ¡°But I can¡¯t tell you, because¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Peyton immediately put in. ¡°Don¡¯t uhh, don¡¯t worry. We get it. Right?¡± She pointedly looked to the others, who all agreed. ¡°You don¡¯t have to expose their secrets just because you¡¯re telling us yours. You¨Cyou¡¯re really¡­¡± She rocked back on her heels, head shaking. ¡°Holy shit, Paintball, this is pretty big.¡±


    Wren, who had come down from the ceiling by then, landed near me. She was biting her lip as she looked me up and down before starting hesitantly. ¡°But¡­ you¡¯re still Paintball, right?¡±


    My head bobbed quickly as I met her gaze. ¡°Yes. Yes, of course it¡¯s still me. I¡¯m still me. I¡¯ve always been me, just a different me than you thought. Sort of different. I¡¯m just older and a different gender than you thought, that¡¯s all. The rest of it is still just me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± Peyton echoed. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty big difference. I mean, in some ways.¡± She grimaced a little, taking a breath. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t¨CI¡¯m not saying it¡¯s¨Cyeah. I get it. I think we all get why you lied about that even after you told us the other stuff. It¡¯s a pretty big thing to get into. And you already dropped some pretty major bombs before.¡±


    Murphy nodded. ¡°Yeah, for sure. We totally get why you did it, but it¡¯s still a lot to take in, you know? Like, I¡¯ve been thinking of you one way this entire time, and the truth is completely different. You¡¯re older than we are. You¡¯re a girl. You¨Cit¡¯s¨Cfuck, dude. Like I said, it¡¯s a lot.¡±


    Everyone was quiet for a moment before Roald spoke up. ¡°Plus, you¡¯re not just a girl and older, you¡¯re Cassidy Evans. The Cassidy Evans. Which, for the record, you don¡¯t look anything like I expected. When people talk about Cassidy Evans, I always picture like, you know¡­¡± He trailed off before turning to gesture toward Paige without saying anything.


    Swallowing, I did my best not to make too much of a face. ¡°Yeah, I get that a lot, trust me. My mom said I should take it as a good thing in some ways. The fact that people don¡¯t really know what I look like means I don¡¯t get mobbed out on the street. I guess she sort of has a point.¡±


    ¡°Wait, hold on, are you sure that is what you look like?¡± That was Murphy, straightening up suddenly as she stared at me intently. ¡°You said your family has a way of putting illusions over people, right? Are you sure they¡¯re not doing it to you so that you and everyone else see this?¡±


    My mouth opened and shut a couple times before shaking my head. ¡°First, I don¡¯t think it works that way. I¡¯m pretty sure the people that have illusions on them are using some sort of Touched-Tech for it, and I don¡¯t have anything like that on me. If they were casting a hologram over me or something, I think it would have to come from something I had with me all the time. It¡¯s not like I have a bracelet or something that I¡¯m always wearing. And if it was somehow projecting the effect from somewhere to everywhere I go, they would have figured out who I really was by now.¡±


    ¡°Plus the idea of them having some sort of machine that can project illusions over people anywhere in the city, and even out of the city, is pretty goddamn terrifying,¡± Peyton noted. ¡°So personally, I¡¯d rather believe they¡¯re not quite that ridiculously powerful.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that too,¡± I agreed. Taking a breath, I started to say something else, before Sierra spoke up first.


    ¡°Anyway, there¡¯s definitely no illusion going on with her, because that one knew her five years ago.¡± She gestured to Paige. ¡°And there hasn¡¯t been a real change.¡± Turning back to me, she offered a shrug. ¡°Sorry, not to be insulting or anything. I mean, you¡¯ve gotten a bit bigger and all. And you¨C¡±


    Flushing deeply, I quickly cut her off. ¡°I get it, yeah. I haven¡¯t changed.¡± To the others, I added, ¡°That was my second point. Not the Paige thing, but the whole bit about me from the past. There are pictures and videos of me throughout the whole time I¡¯ve been growing up and there¡¯s never a big shift in what I look like. Even if they had the ability to do something like that, I don¡¯t think they¡¯d carry it on for this long. That would just be cruel, and my parents are a lot of things, maybe even sometimes cruel to other people, but not to me. And yeah, I know how that sounds. I really do. But seriously. They¡¯re not complete monsters. This whole thing would be¨Cit¡¯d be easier if they were. They¡¯ve done a lot of bad things, but they¡¯ve also done a lot of good things. My dad is literally Silversmith. He¡¯s saved a lot of people.¡±


    ¡°And he¡¯s let a lot of other people get hurt and die,¡± Murphy pointed out. Her voice didn¡¯t really sound accusatory, however. If anything, she sounded sympathetic. ¡°Believe me, I know what it¡¯s like to have a family member who does bad things sometimes but also does a lot of good.¡±


    Oh. Right, yeah she would understand that, wouldn¡¯t she? It was a reminder that made me flinch a bit before I found my voice. ¡°About that¨C¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she interrupted. ¡°Your parents are the ones who made the call to help that piece of shit escape the city in the first place.¡± Her face twisted a bit as she clearly went through an assortment of emotions as far as that was concerned. ¡°Trust me, I¡¯ve been thinking about that this whole time. I¡¯ve been thinking about it a lot. But I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re also the one who had him end up in the garbage. Probably cuz he made too much noise for them or something. You know, they stuck to the letter of their deal to get him out of the city and then shot him in the head or something. But he survived somehow and got powers. Or just managed to live with a bullet in the head long enough for one of those orbs to find him. And really, who could¡¯ve predicted that?¡±


    Despite her words, I could still see anger in her expression and hear it in her voice. It was mostly undirected anger. She wanted Luciano dead, and the people who had helped him escape justice were the same ones who had apparently tried to make that happen. Yet they had failed at that, and now he was more dangerous than ever. Yeah, I could see how that entire situation would give her very conflicted feelings. If my family had just left it alone and let us take him in¡­ fuck. yeah. She wasn¡¯t the only one who had conflicted feelings.


    ¡°We still don¡¯t even know why he went nuts and started this whole thing in the first place,¡± Peyton pointed out. ¡°Like you said, he started freaking out and causing trouble before he even had to get out of the city. That¡¯s why he had to¨C¡±


    ¡°Oscuro,¡± I blurted. ¡°The cop from the other day outside the laundromat, he told me Luciano owed money to Oscuro. I guess maybe having Cu¨¦lebre breathing down your neck could motivate someone to go after all that money.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯re you gonna do about him?¡± Fred asked after we had all gone silent for a few seconds considering that realization. ¡°Luciano that is, not Cu¨¦lebre. I mean, they¡¯re both¨C¡± He stopped, shaking his head. ¡°Point is, he¡¯s still out there and he¡¯s gonna keep hurting people, right? So what¡¯re¡­ uhh, we gonna do? Not that this whole thing about Paintball isn¡¯t fascinating and all, trust me. I¡¯m pretty freaked out myself. But seriously, he¡¯s still out there.¡±


    Everyone looked at me for a moment, and I hesitated while an assortment of thoughts ran through my head. Eventually, I exhaled before starting with, ¡°First, I think we should let the Ministry know what happened, at least as much as we can without giving ourselves away. They don¡¯t want him to be a problem any more than we do. If we¡¯re right about them being the ones who tried to kill him, then they¡¯ll want him stopped too. And they have a lot more resources than we do.¡±


    ¡°Do you want to stop your family?¡± Murphy asked, her eyes on me. ¡°Sorry, not to totally change the subject¨Cfor very long I mean, but really. Do you want to break up the Ministry?¡±


    Once again, my mouth opened and shut. I closed my eyes and grimaced a little before opening them as I looked at her. ¡°I don¡¯t know exactly what I want. That¡¯s the biggest problem here, at least from my end. I know I don¡¯t want things to stay the way they are. Yes, my family has done some good things, but they¡¯ve also done some bad things. I believe they think they¡¯re making the city better by only allowing some crime and all that. But¡­ but they¡¯re also making it worse in other ways. It¡¯s like¨C¡± Cutting myself off, I tried to put my thoughts into words. ¡°They might be stopping the city from being as bad as it could be, but they¡¯re also stopping it from being as good as it could be. They¡¯re keeping it static. People are still suffering. There¡¯s still homeless, still people being shot and dying in the street, there¡¯s still¡­ there¡¯s still stuff we could fix. I don¡¯t believe there can be a place where there¡¯s absolutely no crime and no suffering at all, but I sure as hell believe it can be better than this. I believe that the Ministry puts profit first, even if they also do some good. And I want to change that. But I can¡¯t as long as it exists the way it does right now. I want to make things better.¡±


    The others were silent for a moment after I finished saying that, until Wren finally grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them. ¡°We¡¯re all gonna help! We¡¯re gonna help make things better, right?¡±


    That was met with mixed agreement, before Paige made a point of clearing her throat. ¡°I can¡­ I can contact the Ministry. Anonymously, I mean. I have a phone number for them. I can give them a quick rundown of what happened so they can start looking for him before he¡­ hopefully before he hurts too many people.¡±


    ¡°Before he kills too many people, she means,¡± Sierra put in. ¡°And yeah, probably best that you keep it anonymous, because I don¡¯t think they¡¯d listen to the group that just broke into their base.¡±


    ¡°Probably not,¡± I agreed.


    I started to say something else about that, but was interrupted as the phone in the store rang. Everyone looked that way as Fred grimaced and muttered an apology before answering it. He listened for a second, then looked over and held the phone out to me. ¡°It¡¯s for you, Paintball.¡±


    I started to take it, only to quickly turn the voice changer back on at a pointed nudge from Paige. Making sure it was working, I took the phone and answered, ¡°Who is this?¡±


    ¡°Fabulist,¡± came the response from a male voice. ¡°You know why I¡¯m calling.¡±


    ¡°Glitch wants an answer about the Touched-Tech tax thing,¡± I guessed.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± he confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s been a lot longer than two weeks, since we got a little¡­ busy. But she¡¯s ready now. And she wants to talk in person again. She¡¯ll meet you at the old pizza place where you met before. You know where that is?¡±


    Thinking about that briefly, I replied, ¡°Yeah, I remember where it is. We¡¯ll be there. When?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow evening,¡± was the answer. ¡°Make it around this time. And don¡¯t make us wait for too long.¡±


    He hung up then, so I did the same. Everyone was staring at me as I explained what that was.


    ¡°So you¡¯re going?¡± Paige asked.


    ¡°We are,¡± I confirmed, looking over the others. ¡°We¡¯re all finally on the same page. No pun intended.¡± I added that with a glance toward the blonde girl before continuing. ¡°You guys know the truth. You know what¡¯s really going on. So I¡¯m not going to this meeting alone. If you¨Cif you¡¯re still with me, I think we should go as a team. All of us together, finally.


    ¡°Time for everyone to meet the full Avant-Guard.¡±

 Enkindle 23-08

    My parents had really freaked out about the invasion of their base. How did I know that? Because the next morning, Tuesday, my mother informed Izzy and I while we were eating breakfast that there would not be a family dinner that night. Considering we¡¯d even had it for the most part while they were out of town and only able to appear via video chat, that was pretty big. Though, of course, she didn¡¯t tell us why. She just said that something had come up at the office and they were going to be very busy with that.


    So yeah, canceling family dinner was a big deal. I did my best to seem genuinely surprised and curious in a normal way without looking like I was pushing to see what sort of answer she would come up with. I had to make my reaction come off as completely clueless, yet with the right balance of teenaged not caring that much but being accustomed to the dinners happening.


    Honestly, I really shouldn¡¯t have bothered. My mother was so distracted that I don¡¯t think she heard half of what I said. She just accepted that I was mildly curious about what was going on, gave me some excuse about being busy, then went back to talking on the phone using what was obviously careful language to avoid saying anything dangerous in front of me. I was pretty sure I could have said something like, ¡®hope you catch the people who broke into your mall base and stole everything that wasn¡¯t nailed down,¡¯ and there would only be like a twenty percent chance of her actually processing what I was saying properly.


    But, of course, tempting as that was, I resisted the urge. Mom left after giving both Izzy and me a hug, promising to make it up to us later. Then she was out the door and on her way downtown. I exchanged a look with the younger girl beside me, but neither of us said anything about it. Well, actually we did. But we kept our comments limited to what we would have said if we didn¡¯t know the truth. I was absolutely certain that anything we said in here would be heard by someone we didn¡¯t want to hear it. So we played our role as clueless teenagers.


    We also wouldn¡¯t be getting a ride from Jefferson that morning. He was fully occupied helping my parents out, which had to be doing a number on his dislike of schedule changes. And that all by itself told me how big of a deal this was for them. This whole situation was obviously all hands on deck. It made me feel anxious for the fact that we couldn¡¯t eavesdrop on what they were saying. I had no idea how much information they actually had right now, or what they would be able to find out over the next few days. I was pretty sure we hadn¡¯t left anything that could expose us, but not knowing for sure what they were doing made me nervous.


    It was sort of like the opposite of the situation we¡¯d been in before. They¡¯d had no idea we were even a thing, let alone what we were planning. Now they did know about us, at least in general terms, and we had no way of finding out how much they would be able to figure out. It was our turn to not know what they were planning.


    But, we were just going to have to suck that up and move on. We had other things to deal with right now. Mainly the fact that we were supposed to go out as a group later tonight and meet with Glitch. I had no idea how that was going to go, and it was making me nervous. But I knew it was the right thing. The others finally knew the truth about me, and we could work together properly. It was the right time for us to make an appearance as a team. Doing so by meeting with Glitch and letting her know what we were going to do about the whole Tech-Touched tax thing was just¡­ well, as good of a moment as any.


    I had also told Izzy and Amber late the night before about what happened, both with the Luciano thing and later at the shop. They knew about the zombie-man, and that the others were aware of my identity and all that. Though I promised them I hadn¡¯t given away their own identities. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how long those could remain secret if they kept working with our fledgling group, but it was up to them to decide what to do about it.


    In any case, both Izzy and Amber thought I¡¯d done the right thing by telling the others who I was, given how much trust they¡¯d earned. We were in this whole thing together now. We were a team, and they had deserved to know the truth about me and my connection to the Ministry.


    Eventually, the two of us finished our breakfast. I¡¯d already called for an Uber, and it pulled up outside the house as we made our way there. We weren¡¯t going to be skipping school today. Distracted as my parents were, I really didn¡¯t want to give them any reason whatsoever to think something might be up with me. Sure, connecting the base invasion with me skipping school would be a huge stretch, but still. We needed them not focused on us at all. Thus, not giving them any reason to even think about us.


    Besides, after the insanity of the past couple of days, and what was coming up soon, I needed the break of just going to school and being normal for a few hours. Was it weird that I saw sitting in class listening to teachers and doing work as a break from my extracurriculars? Yeah, probably. But hey, I¡¯d never claimed to be normal.


    I was dropped off at my school first, and I made sure the driver was paid with a substantial tip before sending him on to drop off Izzy at her own school. Then I turned to face the school itself and took a deep breath. Time to go inside and pretend to be a completely normal teenager for a few hours.


    ¡°You¡¯re not fooling anyone, you know.¡±


    The words made me turn abruptly, just in time to see that Dani girl approach from the direction of the student parking lot. Blinking a couple times, I found my voice finally. ¡°Eh, what?¡±


    Stopping there, she raised an eyebrow at me before gesturing at the departing Uber. ¡°You really think people will buy this whole ¡®oh I have to be driven around in a normal car like everyone else, I totally don¡¯t have a personal private rocket ship and teleportation technology I can use to go anywhere I want¡¯ business?¡± She winked then, giving a pointed and overly dramatic sigh. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s either believe that you have access to all that and are trying to hide it, or that you actually are stuck driving around in a wheeled car like the rest of us schlubs.¡±


    A very tiny smirk found its way to my face as I offered a shrug. ¡°I mean, when it comes down to it, whether I have to use a normal car to hide my vast technological sci-fi toys or don¡¯t have access to that at all, the end-result is the same, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Dani, in turn, shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not the same at all. If you had access to that stuff, you could cruise around in a spaceship on your off days. I mean, for all we know, you¡¯re out there flying to new planets and hobnobbing with alien diplomats on the weekend.¡±


    Dramatically raising my finger to my lips, I gave her a sharp, ¡°Shhh. If everyone hears about that, they¡¯ll all want a ride to Alpha Centauri. Believe me, political relations are already tenuous enough without adding a bunch of extra galavanting teenagers who want to cruise the galaxy.¡±


    With a laugh, the other girl retorted, ¡°Oh yeah, and everything I¡¯ve heard about you makes you the perfect diplomatic representative for humanity. No way would you ever do something dramatic on a dare that made the aliens panic.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, I am on my best behavior whenever I¡¯m on an alien world.¡± With a grin, I added, ¡°That¡¯s why I act up around here, to get it out of my system.¡±


    ¡°Oh, is that why?¡± Amber put in while joining us. ¡°Sorry, what was that about aliens?¡±


    With a shrug, Dani replied, ¡°Just working out exactly what our local richest teenager in the state likes to do in her off-hours.¡±


    Amber looked me over as though appraising for a moment. ¡°Last time I checked, it was a lot of putting herself in physical peril, right? Skiing down death-trap mountains, skating off skyscrapers downtown, bungee jumping into the Grand Canyon?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes all in the same day!¡± I chirped with a broad smile. ¡°Play your cards right and maybe I¡¯ll bring both of you along sometime. We might even take the rocket ship.¡±


    Dani gave me a thumbs up. ¡°Sounds good, just let me know when and where. Hope I get to wrestle an alien.¡± With that, she glanced at her phone and said something about needing to talk to someone before class. Then she headed off, leaving me standing there with Amber.


    ¡°You good?¡± the other girl asked after we watched her walk away.


    Nodding a little, I replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay. Still kind of coming to terms with the fact that the others know the truth now. Like¡­ it kind of freaks me out a bit, you know?¡±


    ¡°You mean because now there¡¯s five extra people who know exactly who you are and who your parents are?¡± Amber put in before exhaling. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s pretty big. You¡¯ve been keeping this secret for a long time now. I mean, relatively speaking for how big it is and how much you¡¯ve been doing. And now it¡¯s sort of out of your hands. You can¡¯t control what they do with it. If they fuck up and give away your secret, you can¡¯t undo it. You just¡­ have to trust them. It¡¯s scary, huh?¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Swallowing hard, I murmured, ¡°Absolutely terrifying. The more people who know about me, the bigger chance of this getting out. You¡¯re right, I can¡¯t control them. I can¡¯t be there every minute of every day. I have no idea what they¡¯re doing right now. I mean, I trust them, or I wouldn¡¯t have told them the truth. It was the right thing to do. But still, it just¡­ it¡¯s a lot. And I keep having waking daymares about one of them saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and¡­¡± I shuddered.


    Her hand patted me on the back. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I get it. Believe me, I know it¡¯s a big deal. But you¡¯re right, it was the right thing to do. If you guys are going to be a real team and work together, they needed to know what they were dealing with. The whole story. Especially if Luciano¡¯s turned into some superpowered zombie monster. That seems like a problem that¡¯s gonna get worse before it gets better.¡±


    ¡°Well, Paige was supposed to be siccing the Ministry on him,¡± I pointed out quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was anywhere nearby. ¡°Which could kind of be a two birds with one stone situation if it distracts them from focusing on us. But I guess we¡¯ll see what happens.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Amber agreed, ¡°You could say the same thing about this whole situation. We just have to see how it goes. But whatever happens, just remember you¡¯re not alone. You¡¯ve got people you can trust.¡±


    Nodding slowly, I took a breath before starting to head for the building. There was no sense in being late to class. ¡°Sure,¡± I murmured on the way. ¡°I just hope that we can find a way to help Trivial and Flea.


    ¡°Because as much danger as we might be in right now, I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re in a lot worse.¡±


    ******


    School that day passed through a time distortion that made it simultaneously take forever and yet finish in the blink of an eye. While I was sitting in every class, I couldn¡¯t stop looking at the clock, which seemed frozen every time I glanced that way. Given what I had to do that evening, I was anxious to be done with all this. But when the final bell rang and it was time to leave, it somehow felt like I¡¯d barely spent any time there at all. Brains were weird sometimes.


    I was at my locker when Dani approached alongside San Francisco. The latter spoke up. ¡°Yo, we¡¯re gonna go catch a movie, you wanna come? It¡¯s that special fifteen year anniversary release of Duskrunners. You know they¡¯re counting ticket sales to decide if they¡¯re finally gonna do a second one.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Dani put in, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen it yet, but San here keeps saying I should¡¯ve been there at the first release.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, I pointed out, ¡°San wasn¡¯t there at the first release. Or if he was, he wouldn¡¯t remember. He would¡¯ve been two.¡±


    ¡°All the more reason for us to go to this one and get the movie the sequel it deserves,¡± San insisted. ¡°Come on, I promise, seeing that movie on the big screen is gonna blow your mind. When I went the first time¨C¡±


    ¡°First time?¡± I interrupted. ¡°You mean you already went to see it in the theater?¡±


    ¡°Opening night, dude,¡± he retorted. ¡°It¡¯s been out since last Friday, and I¡¯ve seen it three times. Today¡¯s lucky number four. Even with the curfew, which didn¡¯t make that easy. But I need reinforcements, just in case my tickets aren¡¯t getting the job done. Plus, you know, maybe if you really like the movie, you can poke your dad about throwing some funding toward the sequel.¡± He waggled his eyebrows at me pointedly.


    Snorting despite myself, I gestured. ¡°I¡¯ve sorta got plans today, but I promise I¡¯ll look at my calendar and see when I can get free for a couple hours.¡± I wouldn¡¯t have minded going to see a movie that day, especially one San was so excited about. But I¡¯d already promised Wren that I would come by and talk some more about funding for the shop, some toys she wanted to try out, and how that night was going to go when we went to talk to Glitch. She was pretty nervous about the whole thing, understandably.


    ¡°Gotta make it at least three hours,¡± San informed me. ¡°Gonna need extra time after the movie so we can talk all about the tie-in comics and books and about what¡¯s canon and not canon. It gets a little confusing sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t wait,¡± I dryly replied before glancing toward Dani. She had been watching me curiously the whole time. ¡°Maybe you can help him narrow down how to explain this stuff to a clueless newcomer. Or just tell me to run if it¡¯s impossible.¡±


    With a visible smirk, the other girl shrugged. ¡°Hey, if it¡¯s impossible and I have to sit through it, I¡¯d be more likely to tie you down so you have to suffer too. Sure you¡¯re too busy today though? Cuz I could do with some reinforcements. And if there were two of us, we could tie him down if it gets too bad.¡±


    Snickering a little after giving San a look as though I was considering the ¡®tying him up¡¯ part, I finally shook my head. ¡°Like I said, sorry. I¡¯ll try to get some free time soon so we can see just how cool this fifteen-year-old movie actually is and how much it holds up. But hey, let me know how it goes. At the very least, so I¡¯ll know if I need to cut and run whenever I see San here again.¡±


    ¡°Pfft.¡± Dani gave me a pointed look. ¡°Trust me, babe, even if it¡¯s terrible, I¡¯m definitely going to talk it up just so you can suffer as much as me.¡±


    San made a sharp harumphing sound, straightening as he looked back and forth between both of us. ¡°I¡¯m telling you guys, it¡¯s not gonna be bad. It¡¯s awesome, and you¡¯re both gonna love it whenever you get to see it.¡± Muttering something under his breath about how he still couldn¡¯t believe that we hadn¡¯t seen it at any point in the past fifteen years, he shook that off before gesturing toward the nearby doors. ¡°But if we¡¯re gonna get there in time to get decent seats and snacks, we gotta go.¡±


    With an added promise (or threat) to make sure I made it to the movie next time, Dani headed out with him. I watched them go, then turned back to my locker while my head shook with amusement. At some point I really was going to have to go see that. San wasn¡¯t the type of person to just let that go. And the last thing I wanted was for him to start wondering why I was so busy all the time. And hey, if I did like it, maybe I really could push my parents toward helping to fund a sequel.


    After all, if they were going to profit so much off a criminal enterprise, they could at least make people happy with it.


    *****


    ¡°Speaking of profiting off a criminal enterprise,¡± I muttered under my breath awhile later, once I¡¯d made it to Wren¡¯s shop.


    ¡°What?¡± the girl herself asked, popping up from behind a counter where she had been digging through a pile of what looked like random junk.


    Coughing, I shook my head. ¡°Nothing, never mind. I just¨CI¡¯m glad I get to help get this place running properly.¡± I had my helmet and mask off since everything was closed up, which was a really odd feeling. Standing here with my face exposed while the rest of me was in costume, it felt¡­ well, it almost felt like I was naked, honestly. It was weird and uncomfortable. I felt exposed. Which was the point, really. Everyone here knew who I really was. I just¡­ wasn¡¯t accustomed to that.


    Coming down the stairs with an armload of supplies, Paige flatly put in, ¡°We don¡¯t have to get this place running to pay Glitch, you know. Cassidy and I can both help with that. In more than one way.¡±


    Wren, however, shook her head. Her chin was set stubbornly. ¡°If she wants money from me, it¡¯s gonna be from my stuff. I mean¨Cuhh¡­¡± She paused, frowning uncertainly. ¡°I guess you¡¯re already paying to help get us off the ground and all, but that¡¯s¡­ uhh, different? I think¡­ somehow. Sorta.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I assured her, ¡°we get it. And you won¡¯t have to give them stuff forever. We¡¯re gonna deal with the whole thing eventually. Just¡­ probably not a good idea to make too many enemies right now. Especially not when they obviously know about the shop.¡± Saying that made me shift a little uncomfortably.


    Then I looked over at Paige, trying to change the subject for a moment while we still could. ¡°Did you get to talk to the Ministry about Luciano?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she confirmed. ¡°I mean, I left an anonymous message about him, and the stuff you guys saw. I don¡¯t know how seriously they¡¯ll take it, but hopefully they¡¯ll at least look into it.¡±


    A grimace found its way to my face. ¡°Yeah, well, we¡¯ll see. Maybe when they start getting other reports about him, they¡¯ll do something. Cuz I kinda doubt he¡¯s the type to lay low and not draw attention to himself. But you know that ¡®drawing attention¡¯ thing is probably gonna involve hurting people. Or¡­ or killing them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m working on something to trap him too!¡± Wren quickly put in. ¡°Something he can¡¯t burn his way out of, or whatever he did to escape from the dumpster.¡± She frowned thoughtfully. ¡°You said he didn¡¯t burn out of that one, right?¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡± The memory made me frown as well. ¡°Still have no idea how he managed that, unless he got teleportation powers too. Which is patently unfair. And speaking of an unfair situation,¡± I looked back to Paige once more. ¡°What about school? Are they uhh, bringing up stuff about your parents being gone?¡±


    Paige started to shake her head, but it was Sierra who answered, on her way down the stairs behind the other girl. ¡°As far as the school and his company¡¯s concerned, Mr. and Mrs. Banners are on an extended retreat still. They¡¯ve called in a few times to let people know they¡¯re still alive, thanks to voice changers and Paigey baby¡¯s memories of how he talks to people.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me Paigey baby,¡± the other girl retorted, before focusing on me. ¡°But yeah, like she said, everyone still thinks the Banners are just being eccentric rich people on safari or whatever. The company¡¯s still making money without his help, so there¡¯s not too much concern yet. But that won¡¯t last forever. And¡­ I do want to find out what happened to them. Even if they did buy me to replace the daughter they threw out. Plus we have to get Irelyn off that island. Not to mention Flea and Trivial.¡±


    She was saying it that way in front of Wren rather than give away that Flea was Irelyn, I knew. It was a trick that only worked because everyone thought Flea herself was Asian, and Trivial hadn¡¯t been in the city long enough. Not to mention she was too young. Those were the only reasons the others hadn¡¯t figured out that Irelyn was one of those two.


    And yeah, it felt awkward and kind of bad to lie like that still. But again, it wasn¡¯t our place to expose Irelyn¡¯s identity. I just hoped that when and if it came up later, the others would understand. They¡¯d been more than understanding so far.


    ¡°We will,¡± I found myself assuring her after that moment of silence. ¡°We¡¯ll find out what happened to all the Banners. I mean, we¡¯ve still got that blackmailing the Breakwater people plan, right?¡±


    Wren¡¯s head bobbed rapidly. ¡°Uh huh! I¡¯m building the thing to track where the island is so you can tell them to get them off it or else.¡± She paused briefly. ¡°Uh, does that make us sound like the bad guys?¡±


    Smiling a bit, I reached out to squeeze her shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we are definitely still the good guys around here. They¡¯re the ones not getting a couple superheroes off their prison island because they don¡¯t want bad publicity. I promise, we¡¯re still solidly on the right side of this.


    ¡°And speaking of being on the right side of things, let¡¯s finish putting this stuff together so we can go pay a gang of supervillains to leave us alone.¡±

 Enkindle 23-09

    ¡°What¡¯d you do, multiply?¡±


    The question came from Framework, the Braintrust Tech-Touched who focused on attaching a vast assortment of devices to his own body in a personal power armor/mecha-sort of fashion. Thankfully, he was currently wearing one of the far more subtle versions of the armor and stood only just under seven feet tall, rather than any his larger ones. Those could reach all the way up to twenty feet, and had been seen going toe to toe with Cu¨¦lebre. Though even the smaller versions of his armor packed an awful lot of dangerous toys. In the same way that Wren¡¯s ¡®movement focused technology¡¯ power could be exploited a lot, Framework could design almost anything as long as it was attached to his body or something he was wearing.


    Oh yeah, and that whole ¡®attached to his body¡¯ thing had gone far enough that the man literally had his arms and legs amputated and attached robotic replacements to them. Actually, I was pretty sure he¡¯d had a lot more than just his limbs replaced, but it was hard to know for sure how much of what we saw was replacements and how much was just covering his biological parts.


    Thankfully, either way we weren¡¯t here to fight him, no matter what size his armor was or how much of himself he had replaced. Not unless this whole thing went a lot worse than I was expecting it to.


    ¡°Multiply?¡± I echoed while letting my head tilt a bit exaggeratedly. Then I turned to look at the others as we all stood in the parking lot of that old pizza place Glitch had wanted to meet at. Besides myself, there was also Alloy of course. The armor she had fashioned her marbles into at the moment consisted of bronze-and-black interwoven chainmail-like leggings and chest, along with a gold helmet and cape. The silver, purple, and white marbles hovered around her in the shapes of a sword, hammer, and spear respectively.


    Beyond Alloy, there was also Roald and Murphy. Or Calvin and Hobbes, rather. They were wearing their own new suits, the ones that allowed them to teleport and create temporary protective shields around themselves. When they had first tried them out, the suits had looked just like ordinary black coveralls with silver wrist and ankle bands. But I had taken the time to change that by painting them almost entirely white, and then covering them in a lot of various colored splatters. They both looked like modern art canvases. Or, more accurately, like someone had just violently shaken half a dozen different paint brushes at them. There were no real shapes there, just various splatters of color. They also wore simple (also white) ski masks along with black goggles to protect their eyes. They were much more on-brand for being connected to my own Paintball identity, and to ¡®Avant-Guard¡¯ in general. Each of them also had one of Wren¡¯s special rifles slung over their shoulders. Anyone or anything hit by a shot from one of those weapons would be violently catapulted in a direction set by the person holding it.


    Then there were Paige and Sierra. The two of them were standing together a bit to one side, very slightly separate from the rest of us. A quick trip to the store mixed with stuff Wren had already been working on or had lying around her shop had left them each wearing cargo pants, combat boots, a long-sleeved turtleneck under a lightly armored vest, a long leather coat, and a surplus tactical military-style helmet that covered the whole face and head, with a visor over the eyes. The pants and boots for both of them were black, while the rest of their color schemes were opposite one another. Paige had a red shirt and slightly darker red combat vest under a white leather coat, along with a matching white tactical helmet and red visor. Sierra, meanwhile, had a white shirt and vest under a red leather coat, red helmet, and white visor. Beyond that, obviously, they looked different thanks to Paige being like eight inches taller (well six while Sierra had those lifts) and more¡­ gifted.


    Finally, there was the last official member of the team. Wren, or as she preferred to be known to everyone else, Trevithick. She was wearing what was basically the same costume she had used to meet Lion before. It was a black, form-fitting bodysuit with pink armored panels along the chest, legs, and arms, along with a full-covering black helmet and pink visor. She also had the wing-pack, of course, and was currently hovering a foot off the ground.


    That was us, the whole group. At least, those who were actively members of this little team and not just helping out secretly now and then, like Pack, That-A-Way, or Raindrop. For the first time in anything resembling public (as much as a secret meeting with a group of Fell-Touched could be considered public), we were appearing together, in-costume and on the same page. It had felt like the right time, since they all knew the truth about me now.


    After taking all that in the way that Framework had to be seeing it, I smiled to myself before turning back toward him. ¡°Yeah, you could say we¡¯ve been multiplying. I thought your boss might like to meet the full Avant-Guard. You know, before we come to an agreement about how this whole arrangement is going to work.¡±


    The armored man looked us over once more before snorting a bit. ¡°I sure hope you¡¯re not trying to be intimidating, kid. Because I don¡¯t think that would work out well for you. Any of you.¡±


    ¡°Buddy,¡± Sierra put in, ¡°If we were going for intimidating, you wouldn¡¯t have to wonder.¡±


    He regarded her briefly before curiously asking, ¡°So what do you and your nega-twin there call yourselves? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen anything about you before.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s Style,¡± Paige informed him with a nod toward the girl beside her. ¡°I¡¯m Poise.¡±


    ¡°It fits,¡± Sierra added. ¡°I do have a lot more style than her. And she is a poser.¡±


    ¡°Poise,¡± Paige corrected. ¡°Poise and Pose are two very different words.¡±


    Clearly grinning beneath her helmet, Sierra cheerfully retorted, ¡°I didn¡¯t say they meant the same thing, I was just calling you a poser.¡±


    Coughing pointedly, I focused on the man in front of us. ¡°We¡¯re not here to start anything. We just want your boss and everyone else to know what they¡¯re dealing with. That¡¯s all. We came to make the arrangement. So does your boss still want to talk about that stuff?¡±


    Rather than answer immediately, Framework turned away and murmured something quietly, probably speaking into a communicator of some sort. There was a brief conversation before he looked back to me and gestured to the door into the restaurant. ¡°Sure, go right ahead. But just know that if you do decide to start something, as you put it, it won¡¯t matter how many extra friends you brought along for the ride. This may not be our actual home base, but we¡¯ve had all the time in the world to prep it. And you know what they say, you don¡¯t fuck with a Tech-Touched on territory they¡¯ve had time to prepare.¡±


    Painting a wide smiley face across my helmet like the Cheshire Cat, I replied, ¡°Oh, trust me, we know all about that rule. It¡¯s a good one for everyone to keep in mind.¡±


    That said, I started to the door, with the others trailing behind. We were a small parade heading into the same place where I had met with Glitch before.


    The woman herself was waiting, sitting casually behind a table as she watched us enter. She wore the same costume as before, with burgundy cargo pants that were covered in pockets, belts, and pouches containing all manner of weapons and tools. She also had a black scale-armored turtleneck and a white leather jacket, along with that familiar metal choker that could change her appearance to anything she wanted, rather than an actual mask. At the moment, she looked like a red-haired woman with deeply tanned skin and unnaturally bright green eyes.


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± Glitch drawled as we filed into the room and spread out a bit, ¡°isn¡¯t this interesting. You¡¯ve been recruiting, I see. I thought you were trying to be a solo hero out there.¡±


    I moved myself straight to the middle of the group, front and center. Trevithick was just barely to my left, while Alloy stood slightly behind me and to the right. Calvin and Hobbes were together a bit further back and to that side, while Sierra and Paige/Style and Poise were together opposite them on the left.


    I had worried about bringing the two of them here, given Glitch¡¯s ability to screw with Touched-Tech. But according to Paige, she had spent about four months awhile back worrying about that herself before picking out enough information about how Glitch¡¯s power worked to realize she was safe. Apparently one of the repeated problems the woman had was with tech that was implanted inside of people. Or other animals. It was like living biological material blocked her ability. So long as they kept their finger wire things firmly inside, she shouldn¡¯t be able to detect them or do anything to screw them up.


    ¡°Oh, I can still do plenty of things by myself,¡± I informed the Braintrust leader after letting those thoughts run through my mind. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that. But I¡¯ve found that it helps to have people watching your back in this town. And we thought it¡¯d be a good idea to let people know what they¡¯re dealing with. After all, we¡¯ve already had to deal with one group trying to steal stuff from us. Don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d know anything about that?¡±


    She didn¡¯t, of course. Mostly because I was making the whole thing up as part of our own cover story. Her face didn¡¯t give away any reaction at all other than a very slightly raised eyebrow. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°A group of people broke into one of the places we¡¯ve been keeping supplies,¡± I claimed. ¡°Dug a tunnel straight under the shed. Must¡¯ve taken them a week to do it without setting off any of our alarms. If we hadn¡¯t been right outside doing some training, they would¡¯ve gotten away with everything.¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was something of a bold claim, of course. A way of creating a bit more separation between us and the group who had broken into the Ministry base. I was positive that Glitch at least would have already heard about it, as my parents probably went to her about anyone who could have dug a tunnel like that. We were also going to have to make a point of having our black-suited selves break into another gang¡¯s territory soon, just to keep up that lie. I had a few thoughts as far as that went, but now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on it. The point was that acting as though that mysterious other group had stolen things from us as well would hopefully help shield us from suspicion.


    There was a long pause as Glitch stared at me, then glanced to the others before slowly asking, ¡°How long ago was this? And you think it was my group?¡±


    I offered her a shrug. ¡°Maybe a week? And I dunno. Didn¡¯t look like any established gang to us. Just black suits and ski masks. I thought you might¡¯ve been trying to send a message.¡±


    ¡°If you were,¡± Alloy put in, ¡°It wasn¡¯t a very clear one.¡±


    ¡°I assure you,¡± Glitch replied, ¡°That group has no connection to me. I¡¯ve heard a bit about them, however. They seem to be attempting to¡­¡± She trailed off, making a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat before shaking her head. ¡°Whatever they are attempting to do, they will find themselves put in their place soon enough. Interesting that they chose you as a target as well. A practice run, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°Practice?¡± I made myself ask, since I definitely would have if I didn¡¯t already know what she was talking about. ¡°Practice for what?¡±


    Her response was a mysterious smile. ¡°Never mind about that. I don¡¯t believe you will have to worry about this other group for much longer. Why don¡¯t you introduce me to your assortment of friends?¡±


    So, I did just that, introducing her to Alloy, Calvin, Hobbes, Style, and Poise in turn. Finally, I took a breath before putting a hand on Wren¡¯s shoulder. ¡°And, the person you¡¯ve actually been wanting to meet this whole time. Trevithick, this is Glitch. Or the face she¡¯s using right now.¡±


    Hovering a bit higher off the floor, Wren stared at the woman. ¡°You¡¯re the one who wants me to pay you or build things for you so you can hurt people.¡±


    Eyes focusing on her, Glitch gave a very slight smile. ¡°Fascinating. I suppose my guess that you were a younger girl Paintball was protecting paid off after all. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d care to verify whether I was right about being a younger sibling, specifically?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I replied before Wren could, ¡°we prefer to play things a little closer to the vest than that. It¡¯s just safer that way. I¡¯m sure you understand. Unless that¡¯s your real face we¡¯re looking at.¡±


    With a wink, Glitch pointed out, ¡°It very well could be.¡± She turned her gaze back to Wren. ¡°Trevithick, was it? I must say, from what little I¡¯ve seen of your work, I¡¯m quite impressed. And yes, we are the group who control Tech-Touched in this city. If you wish to operate here, you must pay the tax. That can either be monetary or in extra work done for us directly. I do leave it up to you, though I believe you have a preference.¡±


    ¡°Does it matter?¡± Wren demanded while folding her arms as she hovered there beside me. ¡°If I build things for you, you¡¯ll use them to hurt people. If I pay you, you¡¯ll use that to buy more things to hurt people. Either way, you¡¯re hurting them because of me.¡±


    The woman absorbed that with a thoughtful expression, tapping her fingers idly along the table. ¡°Yes, I suppose that is true. And yet, it is how things work in this city. Unless you wish your new friends here to get into an extended conflict with my organization, one which we are far better prepared and trained for, it¡¯s in your best interest to¡­ as they say, bite the bullet and follow the rules. And I do hope this wasn¡¯t meant to be a show of force before declaring war.¡± Her hand gestured to indicate the rest of us. ¡°Because, while intrigued, I am not frightened.¡±


    ¡°Like Style over there said to your buddy outside,¡± Hobbes informed her, ¡°There were a lot better ways for us to try to intimidate your crew than just stand here in front of you.¡±


    Pointing with my thumb, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, that. We¡¯re just here like this to make sure everyone¡¯s on the same page about where we all stand. If you want some sort of tax, maybe you should make sure it¡¯s a fair one. You know, because I don¡¯t think this city needs to have even more fighting going on than it already does. And neither do any of us.¡±


    Glitch offered me a curious and reevaluating smile. After a moment, she leaned back in her seat and casually remarked, ¡°In other words, you¡¯re showing me that you have more strength than I might have thought you did, and think that I don¡¯t want to start another war while the one between those other gangs is still going on. But what if I feel ignored and want people to start paying attention to me again instead of those guys? Picking a fight with one little Star-Touched and his pet techy would¡¯ve just looked like I was bullying someone. Not nearly enough action to get any of the right attention. But here you¡¯ve just shown me you have a whole gang. So maybe you¡¯re more worth fighting than I would¡¯ve thought. Maybe we bloody each other¡¯s noses, put a couple on each side in the hospital, really give the good folks at home stuff to gossip about. Then I could be right back at the top of the Twitter trends.¡±


    A couple of the others stiffened around me, but I could tell she wasn¡¯t serious. She was teasing, and also testing my reaction, or our reactions, rather. Poking at us just to see what we would do, what we would say. I had surprised her with a bunch of people she didn¡¯t know anything about, so she was giving a little verbal prod so she could take note of how each of us reacted to it. I had no doubt that she had cameras up and would be thoroughly analyzing everyone¡¯s body language later so she could pick out who might be vulnerable to being taunted into doing something if the time came that we did fight.


    I had my dad to thank for immediately realizing that without even really having to think about it. He¡¯d talked to me a lot about being in business meetings, negotiating with people, that sort of thing. Come to think of it, he had probably been talking about this sort of situation too, even if I hadn¡¯t realized it at the time. To me, I was just listening to my dad tell stories because I liked hearing his voice. But what had it been to him? Was he telling me those stories because he expected me to go into business, or because he expected me to go into the family business?


    I had no idea. It actually distracted me for a moment, as I wondered what my father intended with all that. But now really wasn¡¯t the time, so I pushed the thought down and focused. ¡°Maybe, but I¡¯m pretty sure you won¡¯t do anything like that. You didn¡¯t invite us over here to start a fight, and we didn¡¯t come to provoke one. Like I said, we just wanted to make sure you know what you¡¯re dealing with so you treat us fairly. So you treat her fairly.¡± I amended myself with a look toward Trevithick. ¡°Not that I¡¯m saying you¡¯d try to get away with pushing around a couple people if she and I came by ourselves, just to get even more work out of her.¡±


    Of course, that was exactly what I was saying, and everyone in the room knew it. Glitch regarded me for a silent moment before tapping the table thoughtfully. ¡°Yeah, well that¡¯s fair enough, I suppose. Sure, go ahead and keep all your people here. It won¡¯t really make a difference. Like you said, none of us are here to start a fight. In fact, I really don¡¯t think your friend there will object too much to what we¡¯re asking for.¡± She focused on Trevithick, offering a faint smile. ¡°Something tells me if I asked you to build a weapon, or anything that would hurt people, we¡¯d have a problem, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay a pe-percentage of what I make off selling in town,¡± Wren informed her in as firm a voice as she could manage while clearly being incredibly nervous. ¡°But no, I¡¯m not going to build weapons for you. No matter what you say.¡± She lifted her chin a bit at the end.


    ¡°Tough kid,¡± Glitch remarked with a slightly more genuine smile. She seemed almost charmed. ¡°Like I said the other day, I don¡¯t like forcing people to build stuff when they don¡¯t want to. It¡¯s a good way to end up in a really bad situation. Especially when I¡¯m a little too busy to stand over your shoulder watching you work all the time. So that¡¯s not my style. And yeah, I could take your money, sure, but I¡¯ve got plenty of that as it is. That¡¯s part of why it¡¯s been so hard these past few weeks, trying to decide exactly what I was going to ask for from you. You¡¯re sort of a unique commodity, kid. And yeah, I know, commodity¡¯s kind of an insulting term. But it¡¯s the best one I can come up with right now. You¡¯re unique, and I don¡¯t really think taking a bit of money from you is the right approach. But right now, I think I¡¯ve finally got an idea.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve certainly talked it up enough,¡± Style put in glibly. ¡°How about you just explain what you want and we¡¯ll see how long it takes us to get to it.¡±


    Her words were met with a brief stare from the woman, before Glitch rose from the chair she had been lounging in. ¡°Absolutely. You all might have heard about a little gang war going on, between a few of the other gangs.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s come up once or twice,¡± I dryly confirmed. ¡°Including like thirty seconds ago when you talked about being afraid Braintrust isn¡¯t getting enough attention right now. Which, for the record, I bet if you just let us arrest your entire group and send you to prison, you¡¯d have all the focus you could ever want. You might even get a book deal out of it.¡± While saying that, I painted a smiley face across my helmet.


    Glitch pretended to consider that. ¡°Hmm, maybe that could be a decent back-up choice. Of course, to make it realistic, we¡¯d have to put a few of you in the hospital.¡± She let that stand before continuing. ¡°Or we could just go with my plan.¡± Her eyes found Trevithick, as she reached down, picked a bag up off the floor, and tossed it to her. ¡°I want you to build these and make them work.¡±


    Clearly confused, Wren opened the bag and took out a pair of long leather gloves, with bits of electronics hanging off the inside and outside. ¡°What¡­ are they?¡±


    Glitch leaned against the table, regarding us. ¡°Do you remember that little thing you pulled to get the vials for Blackjack, where you made that guy wear a suit that forced him to walk to where he hid those things?¡±


    Wren dropped the gloves in the bag, shaking her head quickly. ¡°I¡¯m not building something that will make someone hurt people.¡±


    ¡°And if that was my intention, we¡¯d have a problem,¡± Glitch retorted. ¡°Trust me, you can put in all the safety measures you want. That¡¯s not what this is about. What I want you to do is build working gloves that will connect to another person¡¯s brain. Someone far away. Not to hurt people, to help them. See, if there¡¯s one thing this gang war has shown, it¡¯s that we don¡¯t have enough well-trained medical professionals out there who can deal with traumatic situations. There¡¯s a lot of victims out there, and only so many people who can help. And a lot of the ones who do exist can¡¯t get there in time. But imagine every paramedic in the city, every cop, firefighter, anyone like that, carries a pair of these gloves in their vehicle. They find someone suffering from a medical trauma that won¡¯t wait until they get back to the hospital. So they grabbed the gloves and put them on, then they call the hospital itself. Even a hospital in another city, or another state entirely. They find the expert, the expert puts on a helmet, and takes control of their hands. The hands in the gloves, that is. That way, the doctor can do what he needs to do right then and there, just by piloting the hands of the other person. Hell, we make enough of them, and we can sell them to individuals. Imagine if as part of calling 911, you strap on a pair of these gloves and the emergency services link you to an expert surgeon in Los Angeles who can save your poor injured mother before the ambulance even gets the call.


    ¡°We could revolutionize the entire emergency medical services world. And all you¡¯d owe us is thirty percent.¡±

 Enkindle 23-10

    ¡°She¡¯s crazy, right?¡± Murphy asked a short while later, as we all sat on a roof together far away from that pizza shop and any of Braintrust. ¡°Paintball, that lady¡¯s gotta be loco in the heado.¡±


    ¡°Did you just say loco in the heado?¡± Paige (or Poise now as she was still in-costume) echoed, head tilting that way as she dropped down with her back to a brick chimney.


    Sierra (Style) stood on the opposite side of the roof, arms folded. The way her red leather coat flapped a bit in the breeze while that matching tactical combat helmet was framed against the city skyline behind her made the girl look cooler than I ever could. It must¡¯ve been the way she stood. Even that was cool. ¡°You know the Spanish word for brain is cerebro, right?¡±


    After dropping her offer, Glitch had simply handed over a card with a phone number on it and told us to call her with an answer in a couple days. Of course, I had promptly painted the number from the card onto my arm and then tossed the card into the nearest trash can. No way was I going to risk carrying around something that the literal leader of a bunch of Tech-Touched villains had given me. Maybe it had a tracker in it, or a recorder, or maybe it was completely innocent. Either way, I wasn¡¯t going to take that chance. Especially not for a phone number.


    Alloy did a quick double-take at Style¡¯s words. ¡°Wait, really? You mean the cool name that Professor X dude gave his super telepathy machine in the comics was literally just the Spanish word for brain? That seems kind of lame. I thought they made up a cool word based off cerebrum.¡±


    ¡°I mean, they did make up a cool word based off cerebrum,¡± Roald pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s just that the ¡®they¡¯ in this case is the ancient Spanish people.¡±


    Murphy threw her hands up, making a noise of disbelief. ¡°The point, people!¡± She turned to me. ¡°That crazy lady back there can¡¯t actually be serious with this. She can¡¯t think that¡¯ll work.¡±


    I offered a clueless shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s crazy. Not like that. She knows how to use Tech-Touched. And, obviously, how to make a profit off them. Probably because¨Chold on. Trev?¡±


    Before saying anything else, I turned to Trevithick. She was standing by herself, clearly deep in thought. When I addressed her, she jolted a little, looking my way before realizing what I was getting at. ¡°Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Hang on a sec.¡± From a slot in her belt, she pulled a small pen-shaped device, taking a moment to wave it over all of us like security at the airport used to do before they upgraded the system to simply alert if you were carrying any weapons anywhere inside the building itself. They didn¡¯t rely on metal detectors anymore. The system was a lot more advanced, and the scanners were hidden throughout the airport.


    In any case, this wasn¡¯t a metal detector either. After Wren had scanned all of us, she clicked her little device a couple times before shaking her head. ¡°Nothing new. No hidden trackers.¡±


    The device was actually part of her ongoing attempt to get a proper working teleporter. It was meant to scan someone from head to toe to get a one-hundred percent accurate and detailed picture of their body and clothing. It wouldn¡¯t show her their face under a mask or anything like that, just give her a microscopically-detailed¡­ map, essentially, of their current form. Every bump in their shoes, every lace, every imperfection in armor, every button in a shirt, every tiny crack in a glass watch face, the exact contours of a pair of tiny diamond earrings, everything. It scanned and stored a perfect map of your body and clothes together. And since we¡¯d had her scan us just before meeting with Glitch, it would have told her if absolutely anything had been added to us in that time, as the before and after pictures would have been different.


    Not that I really expected the woman to try to get away with putting a bug on one of us, but again, I wasn¡¯t going to take any chances. Just like with the card. Maybe I was getting to be a little better about sharing with my team, but Glitch definitely wasn¡¯t part of that.


    Once I was as sure as I could be that it was safe, I continued my thought. ¡°She knows how to make a very good profit because she has to give part of it to my parents. I don¡¯t think she would¡¯ve suggested this if she didn¡¯t think it was possible.¡± Pausing, I looked back to Wren. ¡°Which, I guess makes the question, do you think it¡¯s possible?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer at first, seeming to be lost in thought again. Finally, after we all watched her for a few seconds, she looked at me. ¡°Um, I think so. I mean, it wouldn¡¯t be easy. And I need to look at her prototypes more.¡± She nodded to the other corner of the roof, where she¡¯d left the bag with the gloves in it. Gloves which we had also obviously gone over with a fine-tooth comb for any bugs. But I expected something to be on them even less than I expected something to be on one of us. Glitch wasn¡¯t stupid. She¡¯d have to know that we would have our own Tech-Touched scour every millimeter of those things. Spying on us like that wasn¡¯t worth the risk. Well, okay, it actually was. It was totally worth the risk. The stuff they could have found out about what we knew¡­ The idea was terrifying. But she didn¡¯t know that.


    Wren continued. ¡°I could only do that with help. But she offered help. But she¡¯s a bad guy. But the things she wants me to do would really help people. But she¡¯d probably find a way to use it for bad things too, even if I do put safeties in it. But people use good things for bad stuff all the time, and it doesn¡¯t erase the good stuff those things do. But if someone hurts people with it, that¡¯ll be my fault. But if we don¡¯t give her what she wants, she might ask for something worse, or start a fight. And I don¡¯t want you guys to get hurt. But¨C¡±


    ¡°Wren.¡± I stepped over that way, putting my hands on her shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Whatever you decide to do, we¡¯re with you. I mean, I¡¯m with you.¡± Frowning to myself for the presumption, I turned to look over my shoulder.


    ¡°Oh, of course we¡¯re with her!¡± Murphy blurted. ¡°Come on, man, what do you take us for?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s her choice. Whatever she decides to do about it. We could try to negotiate a single payoff, but something tells me that once Glitch gets an idea in her head about how to make an ongoing profit, it¡¯s not easy to make her give that up. Something like this would be revolutionary. And she¡¯s even offering to let you keep seventy percent. Which should tell you something. She thinks it¡¯s worth so much that she can profit enough off thirty percent, even counting what she has to give to the Ministry.¡±


    ¡°To your parents,¡± Alloy put in, with a glance my way. ¡°Which is still really fuuudging weird to think about, for the record.¡± She caught herself with the curse, giving Wren a sidelong look before turning back to me. ¡°So I guess, in a way, you¡¯d be benefiting from some of that thirty percent too.¡±


    Grimacing behind my helmet, I shook my head. ¡°I mean at this point it¡¯s like emptying a few dozen dump trucks of water into Lake Erie. Yeah, it¡¯s a lot of water when it¡¯s in the trucks, but once you empty them into the lake, you never¨C¡± Stopping short, I blanched, raising my gaze to find Wren, Peyton, Murphy, and Roald staring at me. Paige and Sierra were looking away. ¡°Uhh heh¡­ hehe¡­ I guess I was sorta, kinda just talking about dump trucks full of money not being a big deal.¡±


    ¡°Because you already have a Lake Erie of money,¡± Peyton noted. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°My parents have a Lake Erie of money. I¡¯ve benefited from it, sure. But it¡¯s theirs.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s a lake of money you can swim in,¡± Murphy replied while moving over to plop herself on the edge of a metal air conditioning duct running along the roof next to me. ¡°The point is, Alloy¡¯s right, that¡¯s weird to think about.¡± She squinted at me curiously. ¡°What is it like, being one of the richest teenagers in the country?¡±


    Coughing, I shook my head. ¡°Let¡¯s not get into that. I just¨CI just don¡¯t want you guys to think of me that way. I¡¯m still just Paintball.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see Murphy¡¯s face behind the ski mask, but her body language said she wanted to say something about that. She stopped herself, however, and just replied, ¡°So, Glitch thinks this idea is such a winner that she can get all the moolah she wants and what she has to pay the Ministry off just thirty percent? Kinda weird that she didn¡¯t try for fifty-fifty, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°She probably assumes that by offering seventy percent to us, she¡¯ll look magnanimous.¡± That was Poise, bringing her legs up to her chest as she continued to sit against the brick chimney. ¡°We¡¯re more likely to think she¡¯s being nice.¡±


    ¡°And,¡± Sierra added, ¡°that if we think at all about the money, we¡¯ll have dollar signs in our eyes. With, of course, the added benefit that this is all for saving lives.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Murphy was looking down at her phone. I saw her google the definition of magnanimous before muttering, ¡°I knew it.¡± Then she put it away and gestured along with what Sierra had been saying. ¡°Yeah, she offered the big life saving invention idea so it wouldn¡¯t make us feel like we were giving her weapons or anything she could, you know, use to hurt people.¡±


    ¡°Except she still could,¡± Wren pointed out flatly while shifting her weight and fidgeting uncertainly. ¡°Even if the stuff itself isn¡¯t turned bad, you said it yourself. She¡¯d still make money off it. A lot of money. And then she¡¯d use that money to hurt people.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe she¡¯d retire,¡± I pointed out before wincing. ¡°Yeah, probably not. But it¡¯s okay, Wren. You think about it and whatever you decide, we¡¯ll go with. If we need to come up with a plan to make her back off and¨C¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Wren¡¯s head shook quickly. ¡°No, I don¡¯t wanna make anybody fight those guys. I mean, they¡¯re bad guys so you¡¯re gonna have to and all that, sure. What I mean is, I don¡¯t wanna make it, umm¡­ personal or anything. You¨CI mean we already have umm, you know, enough to do.¡± She focused on Paige and Sierra. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta save your sister! And Flea and Trivial too!¡± She took a deep breath, letting it out before slowly continuing. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯ll help build those things. But only after I work on the thing to help track Breakwater!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll tell her you¡¯ve got projects you need to finish before you get started on anything else,¡± I agreed. ¡°She can¡¯t possibly object too much to that. She has to know that Tech-Touched have their own things to do, and she just sprang this on you.¡± Thinking about that briefly, I gave a decisive nod. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll just tell her that we¡¯ll work on that but she has to wait a couple weeks.¡± Belatedly, I focused on the girl herself. ¡°Err, I say we. We¡¯ll help, any way we can. But it¡¯s up to you. Do you want to try that?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer at first, going silent again for a few seconds before murmuring, ¡°I said I wouldn¡¯t build anything for supervillains. But¡­ I guess this isn¡¯t actually for them? She¡¯s gonna get money out of it, but we were gonna give them money anyway. I¡­¡± She squirmed on her feet, making a cute little uncertain noise in the back of her throat before finally nodding. ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯ll figure out how to work on it. Um, you know, after we do the other thing.¡±


    Obviously, I felt a pang of regret and annoyance at myself for not being able to simply tell Glitch to go shove it. But the others were right, there was so much going on already that we really couldn¡¯t deal with a straight up fight on our own against Braintrust. After all, they hadn¡¯t gotten a reputation for driving other Tech-Touched either out of the city or under their heel for nothing. If we were going to fight them, it was going to need to involve all of us and our full attention. And at the moment, the majority of that attention had to be focused on saving Irelyn and Trivial. Not to mention figuring out what the hell was going on with Luciano. Our plates were absolutely full. Picking a fight with Braintrust just wasn¡¯t in the cards, and we all knew it.


    ¡°We¡¯ll wait though,¡± I finally spoke up after all of us had gone quiet for a few seconds following Wren¡¯s decision. ¡°She gave us a couple days, and I¡¯d rather stretch that out as long as possible. Then we¡¯ll tell her you need time to open up enough of your project space to work on something new.¡±


    ¡°You should start with a month,¡± Paige put in. ¡°Let her negotiate you down to a couple weeks or so. It¡¯ll make her feel like she won something even though it¡¯s what you wanted in the first place.¡±


    I was already nodding that way. ¡°Right, yeah, good plan. Uh, but I guess in the meantime, we really don¡¯t have anything we can¨C¡±


    And that was when Wren¡¯s phone rang. It was a bright chirping sound, like a bird singing. No, it was literally a bird singing. I realized that belatedly, as the girl tugged it out of her costume and held the thing to her ear. ¡°Hi, Uncle Fred! Sorry, I know I said we¡¯d call as soon as we were done so you could come pick us up, but we were still talking about¨Chuh? Oh. Wait, what?¡±


    She was quiet for a few seconds, clearly listening as the man said something on the other end. The rest of us looked at one another and shrugged until Wren quickly blurted, ¡°Really?! I knew that was a good idea! Oh, uh, tell the others, Uncle Fred.¡± With that, she put him on speaker phone and held it out so we could hear.


    There was a brief pause before the man cleared his throat on the other end. ¡°Uh, well, I was just sitting here and the scanner the kid set up to monitor police and emergency traffic for certain words or phrases popped up with a bunch of stuff going on about a zombie and fire, right here in town.¡±


    Well, that sure made me straighten up. I was on my feet in an instant, my eyes widening behind the helmet and mask. ¡°Wait, what? Here in town? You mean Luciano¡­¡± I trailed off, grimacing. ¡°He made it here already.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s a little confusing,¡± came the response over the phone. ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of different conflicting reports about where he is, what he¡¯s doing, that sort of thing. Guy moves fast, and he¡¯s just¡­ causing a bunch of bullsh-crap chaos everywhere he goes.¡±


    I thought about that for a moment. ¡°If he¡¯s pissed at the Ministry, maybe he wants to cause that chaos. Maybe that¡¯s the point. They try to keep things as neat and orderly as possible. They have their rules. If he¡¯s going against that, maybe his whole point is to cause a lot of terror and confusion.¡±


    ¡°Well he¡¯s sure managing that,¡± Fred replied. ¡°There¡¯s reports coming in from all over the city. But as soon as someone gets there, he¡¯s gone already. There¡¯s no rhyme or reason to it. He attacked a real estate office on the north side of town, then a Wendy¡¯s about six blocks east five minutes later, then a bookstore five miles south ten minutes later. It was quiet for fifteen minutes, then he hit an art gallery just two blocks east of the bookstore. Now it¡¯s been quiet again for¨Cwait, hang on.¡±


    We were put on hold for a few more seconds while my mind reeled. What the hell? Well, I knew what the hell. I¡¯d said what the hell. He was causing a bunch of chaos with no pattern, almost certainly as a way of getting back at the Ministry. But they weren¡¯t the ones who were really going to be suffering. It was the people he was targeting, the people whose misery he was throwing in the Ministry¡¯s faces.


    Fuck. Fuck, we had to stop this.


    My mouth opened to say something to that effect, when Fred came back on the line. ¡°There¡¯s another one. He¡¯s hitting a convenience store about¨Chang on¡­ a mile north of where you are.¡±


    He gave the address, and I was already turning. ¡°I¡¯m on my way.¡± My foot rose, then I froze. ¡°I mean¡­¡± Pausing, I looked back to the others. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna say¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± Sierra blurted. ¡°Of course we¡¯ve got your back. Don¡¯t be an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Now hang on there,¡± Fred started, ¡°I don¡¯t want¨C¡±


    ¡°Sorry, Uncle Fred, gotta be a superhero!¡± With that, Wren clicked off the phone and faced us. ¡°So c¡¯mon, what¡¯re we waiting for? Let¡¯s go kick his butt.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t time to have a whole discussion about it right then and there. Not considering Luciano could disappear again any minute. So, I shot a spray of green paint from both hands, covering everyone as much as I could before pivoting back to the edge of the roof. ¡°Okay then.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go stop a zombie.¡±


    ******


    ¡°Ahhhh!¡± Murphy yelled out while hitting the blue paint I had shot in front of her. It propelled the girl across the gap between the building rooftops we had been running across. It wasn¡¯t the first or longest gap I¡¯d shot her and the others over, nor was it the widest. But she screamed every time, as did Roald. I was pretty sure hers was about seventy-five percent joy and twenty-five percent terror, while Roald¡¯s was closer to fifty-fifty. Either way, they insisted on continuing along with it.


    Roald hit the paint a second later, even as Murphy was landing on the far building, the orange paint I¡¯d given her helping the girl avoid breaking any bones in the process. Meanwhile, Paige and Sierra hit the second blue puddle I¡¯d put down, one after the other. They both launched themselves that way, rolling as they hit the far roof before popping right back to their feet.


    Rather than using either puddle, I just made blue paint appear on the bottom of my boots as I hit the edge of the roof, launching myself that way. Above me and to one side, Wren was flying with her dragonfly-like wings, while Alloy flew on her hoverboard above and to the other side. Both of them were calling out which way we should go to reach good jumping points to get from roof to roof. Beyond that, we were following my directions. Or rather, the directions the helmet was giving me when I used the map function Wren had provided in the heads-up display. It showed me just how to get to the spot where Luciano was supposedly still causing trouble, if what Fred had said when Wren checked in with him a moment earlier was right.


    There we were, running and jumping from roof to roof, using blue, green, and red paint as much as I could manage just so we could get there as fast as possible, praying we weren¡¯t too late. Poise and Style being full of¡­ poise and style. They were doing this as though they¡¯d done it their entire lives, like Olympic-level athletes. Hell, they barely needed the paint boosts, which really helped given how fast I would¡¯ve run out if I had to use it for everyone. Calvin and Hobbes, meanwhile, clearly weren¡¯t nearly as skilled. But they were doing their best, and they weren¡¯t bad. Probably from a lifetime of running through dangerous neighborhoods and away from people who saw them as easy marks. Their method of getting around was just a bit less polished.


    With Trevithick flying along one side of me and Alloy along the other, we brought up the rear so I could hit people and spots with paint whenever needed. Wren and Peyton both helped with that, calling down to me to point out the right spots. It worked pretty well, once we got the system down a couple buildings in. By this point, we were basically a well-oiled machine with it.


    Once I joined them on that roof, my skates skidded to a stop. This was it. On the other side of this building was the parking lot connecting to the convenience store. I could hear screaming, along with a weird guttural howling sound. Oh, and fire. I heard fire too.


    Together, we raced to the far side of the roof, ready to jump down there and stop this guy. Then we all stopped short. Because we saw the guy. Except it wasn¡¯t the guy. That is, it wasn¡¯t Luciano. Standing down there in the middle of the parking lot, in front of a couple cowering civilians who were trying to take cover behind a bench in front of the store, was a man who looked nothing like Luciano. He was white, for one thing. He looked like a random beach bum, with long blonde hair, tanned skin, board shorts, and no shirt. Which gave us a good view of the the dozens of deep cuts across his chest and stomach. It looked like he''d been sliced by a bunch of small shards of glass.


    It wasn¡¯t Luciano. But he was still clearly dead, still had obvious death-wounds, and was still moving despite that. Oh, and he had the same fire power, given the way his teeth were visibly glowing. To say nothing of the way he grabbed the bench the people were cowering behind and made it start melting. He wasn¡¯t Luciano, but he was in the same condition.


    So¡­ who the fuck was this?

 Non-Canon 19 - Votary And Paige

    The din of dozens of murmured conversations filled the former church gym turned homeless shelter cafeteria. Everyone was asked to keep their voices down in respect of others, of course, but between the amount of people, the acoustics of the room, and the problem many of them had with their hearing (among other medical issues), the place was still quite loud. Add in the clang of plates and utensils, as well as the occasional heavy rumble of trucks passing by outside through the door that had been propped open to let fresh air in, and it was often hard to hear oneself think properly.


    As the cheap, cracked orange plastic plate hit the metal counter in front of her, gripped tightly in a dirty gloved hand while its owner kept his face covered in heavy scarves despite the heat outside, Cassidy Evans smiled genuinely before scooping a portion of baked beans with hot dog bits mixed in onto it. ¡°Thank you for coming, sir, I hope you have a bright day!¡±


    His response was a grunt before he moved on to take a small container of milk from the crate nearby. The next man, wearing bermuda shorts and a tank top (more in keeping with the heat), stepped up and she gave him the same greeting, along with the same heaping scoop of food.


    He, in turn, stepped over to the crate and reached in, only to pause and look down. The man ahead of him had taken the last carton. ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡± Sounding embarrassed to even be asking, he hesitated before pushing on. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s a uhh, umm¡­ never mind.¡±


    ¡°Coming through!¡± The chipper voice of Paige Evans called, stepping over that way with a new crate filled to the brim with more cartons of milk. ¡°Fresh from the cooler, go right ahead.¡± Setting the crate on top of the empty one, she gestured. ¡°Get ¡®em while they¡¯re cold.¡±


    After the man had gratefully taken his fresh carton and headed off to eat, Paige stepped over next to Cassidy. She gave the next person in line, an elderly black woman, a charming smile and thanked her for coming before speaking quietly to the smaller girl next to her. ¡°Mother called. It¡¯s an emergency. We need to go.¡±


    The word choice of ¡®mother¡¯ was a simple code. If Paige had said ¡®mom¡¯, Cassidy would have known that whatever was going on was personal, normal family business. But the word ¡®mother¡¯ meant it was¡­ well, family business. Ministry business. Which meant it wasn¡¯t something she could put off. If her mother had called Paige-- she checked her own phone while scooping food onto the next plate. Sure enough, she had missed two calls somehow. Oops. Two calls and another call to Paige about Ministry business meant she really couldn¡¯t put it off. So, Cassidy flagged down someone else to take over her job, then stepped away from the counter. Together, she and Paige briskly walked through the room, politely but quickly greeting people on their way until they reached the propped-open door. With a word to the homeless shelter organizer there about needing to take care of some family stuff, they stepped out into the warm (almost hot) open air. There was a line of people out there waiting to come in and take their turns eating, so the girls couldn¡¯t talk freely just yet. They waved cheerfully, expressions betraying nothing more than being welcoming and thankful for the opportunity to help as they quickly crossed the parking lot.


    Only once they were fully out of earshot did Cassidy speak again, her voice low. ¡°What¡¯s going on? It¡¯s not one of Pittman¡¯s lost creations again, is it?¡±


    In the wake of Anthony¡¯s murder (as well as his family and their household staff), Cassidy had Touched before her family could erase her memory of the event. Her parents took Paige in once they learned the situation about who and what she really was, and the two had become more than friends. They were literally adopted sisters, to the point that Paige had entirely stopped referring to him as her father. Sterling was her father. Pittman went into hiding for awhile, as Paige and Cassidy trained under Plan Z herself. Not that Paige needed as much training, but still. She enjoyed spending time with her friend. Two years into that, Pittman had made the mistake of showing himself, and the two of them had worked together with Plan Z and several more of the Ministry¡¯s people to ensure that the man would never be a problem again.


    Well, not as himself anyway. There had been a couple times over these past few years where someone stumbled across one of Pittman¡¯s hidden labs and unleashed some of his biolem creations, which ran amok and caused issues. But it had been most of a year since the last one of those, and Cassidy had hoped that they¡¯d found them all.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not him,¡± Paige easily replied. She was far more cheerful when it came to the subject of Pittman since she had personally made certain he was dead and buried. Well, burned to ashes and scattered, anyway. ¡°It¡¯s Luciano.¡±


    ¡°Luciano?¡± Cassidy echoed, pausing to consider as the name bounced around in her head. ¡°Nope, I have no idea who you¡¯re talking about. Wait, is he that weird new radio DJ with the stuffed pig that he makes do all the--¡±


    ¡°No, not him,¡± Paige quickly interrupted with a grimace as the two of them moved through an alley together. ¡°He¡¯s a nobody, really. Barely worth mentioning, most of the time. Runs a couple blocks on the edge of Oscuro territory. Low-level drug distributor with a dozen guys.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Cassidy replied, ¡°so if he¡¯s barely worth mentioning¡­ why are we mentioning him?¡±


    With a snort of amusement, Paige raised her hand with the keyfob to her car (well, the most mundane one of several) pointed ahead. With a click of the button, she unlocked the dark red sedan while answering the other girl. ¡°He owed Cu¨¦lebre money. Cu¨¦lebre wanted to collect for some reason. I guess some people he works with are pretty anti-Oscuro, so when they found out about Luciano owing him a debt, they decided he didn¡¯t need to be alive anymore. So with Cu¨¦lebre on one side demanding money and his former partners on the other trying to kill him, our pal Luciano decided to call a Ministry phone number some dipshit gave him. He requested an exit. Dad quoted him a price to get him safely out of the city and away from everyone he pissed off.¡±


    Stepping down into the passenger seat of the car, Cassidy made a noise in the back of her throat. ¡°Something tells me Dad wasn¡¯t expecting him to come up with it.¡±


    ¡°Probably not,¡± the other girl agreed while getting in. The car was already started, and she pulled away from the curb while adding, ¡°But he¡¯s a real problem solver. And he decided the best way to solve this problem was to start a murder spree through the city. Apparently a bunch of other people owed him money and he thought it¡¯d be a good idea to kill a few of the smaller fish to convince the bigger ones to pay up immediately. At last count, he was up to five drive-bys, a raid on some nobody pusher¡¯s apartment building, and he set fire to a crackhouse. Next to a daycare. It¡¯s too late for the kids to be there, but still. The fire spread, so now they don¡¯t have anywhere to go tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°So now he¡¯s a big enough problem that we need to deal with it,¡± Cassidy finished.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± came the response. ¡°But you know the rules. He got the money he was asked for, and Dad is a man of his word. We have to get him out of the city safely.¡±


    ¡°And once he¡¯s there?¡± Cassidy raised an eyebrow while looking sidelong at her adopted sister.


    ¡°Once he¡¯s there,¡± Paige replied, meeting her glance. ¡°We make sure he won¡¯t be a problem anymore.¡±


    *******


    A couple hours later, there was a slight complication as Paige and Cassidy drove their ¡®guest¡¯ into the city of Pontiac, where he had requested a drop off. Namely, they were being followed. Both girls had noticed it fairly early into the trip, though Luciano was oblivious. Mostly because he was lying across the backseat and couldn¡¯t look outside to see the van and truck tailing them.


    In most cases, being tailed wouldn¡¯t have been an issue for long. But through unspoken communication mostly involving glances, the two girls had agreed to wait and allow both vehicles to continue following them. Considering the situation, they were both curious about who they were and what they might do. Besides, given the girls weren¡¯t planning on allowing Luciano to live for much longer anyway, whoever was following him might end up being interesting.


    ¡°Oy, can I sit up now?¡± the heavyset Latino man demanded. ¡°It¡¯s damn uncomfortable laying down like this the whole time.¡±


    Truthfully, he could¡¯ve sat up awhile ago. But neither girl had felt like telling him that. Now, it hardly mattered. So Cassidy shifted in her seat to look over at him. He wouldn¡¯t see Cassidy Evans, of course. Nor would he see Paige Evans when he looked at her. Thanks to their mother¡¯s illusion power, both girls would be seen with very different appearances, untraceable back to their true identities. Cassidy looked like a pale girl with dark blonde hair and a light dusting of freckles, whereas Paige had short red hair and deeply tanned skin.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Sure, sit up,¡± Cassidy informed him. ¡°Stretch your legs a bit. Stick your head out the window like a dog and howl if you like.¡±


    Muttering under his breath about being saddled with a couple clueless little bitches when he¡¯d paid for real protection, the man sat up and shifted in the seat. Though he didn¡¯t take her up on the offer to stick his head out the window, he did roll it down and put his arm out, drumming along the outside of the door while starting with, ¡°Right, you¡¯re gonna wanna take a right up--¡±


    Abruptly, he was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot, as a bullet ricocheted off the door barely an inch from his exposed arm. As he screamed and fell sideways once more, Cassidy turned to look at the girl next to her, speaking calmly. ¡°Well, that settles it. They¡¯re not on his side.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± Luciano bellowed, clutching his arm in shock while another shot took out the passenger-side mirror, and a third blew a hole in the rear window. ¡°What the fuck is going on?!¡±


    While Paige spun the wheel to take the car down a sideroad, Cassidy casually replied, ¡°You know, for someone who was just responsible for like a dozen drive-by shootings, you seem oddly confused about what they are.¡±


    ¡°Not used to being on this side of them,¡± Paige pointed out, her voice equally laid-back even if her driving wasn¡¯t, as she sent the car from one side of the road to the other to give their pursuers an even harder time with their shots. ¡°Probably needs some sort of muscle memory, then he¡¯ll get it.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, I know,¡± Cassidy chirped. ¡°Try acting like you¡¯re holding a gun and lean out that window so it feels like you¡¯re the one shooting. You¡¯ll have to lean out pretty far though. Make yourself a really good ta--I mean really put yourself in that mindset.¡±


    ¡°Would you stupid cunts actually do something already?!¡± Luciano all-but shouted while more gunfire pinged off the car. ¡°Bad enough that I paid good money and all those stupid fucks could give me is a couple brainless bimbos! Could you at least pretend to do the job you¡¯re being fucking paid for?!¡±


    Rolling her head back a bit, Cassidy looked not into the backseat where he was, but toward Paige. ¡°Pleeeeeeease?¡±


    ¡°You really want to entertain yourself?¡± Paige nodded over her shoulder as another gunshot rang out. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go deal with those guys?¡±


    ¡°Oooh.¡± Cassidy visibly perked up. ¡°That I can do.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was tugging a short, curved metal band from her pocket. She turned to look out the shattered rear window while slapping the band against her own forehead. The moment she did so, the band extended in every direction, becoming a smooth, featureless metal helmet with no eye holes or anything else to break up its flat surface. At the same time, the bracelets on her wrists expanded into full metal gloves. She gave Luciano a thumbs up, voice slightly distorted. ¡°See ya in a minute!¡± With that, the girl turned to face the front while giving herself a hard shove backwards in her seat. Instantly, she vanished, going through the seat like it wasn¡¯t there.


    ¡°The shit?!¡± the man blurted, jerking upright in his own seat while staring that way.


    Paige, for her part, simply took the car on a hard right down another street, though she slowed down slightly.


    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?!¡± Luciano bellowed. ¡°Speed the fuck up!¡±


    ¡°Nah,¡± she replied, ¡°I don¡¯t wanna leave her behind. She gets kinda cranky if she has to walk too far. And trust me, you do not want to give her an excuse to drive that van to catch up with us.¡±


    Meanwhile, back in the van itself, the girl in question had gone through her own seat in Paige¡¯s car and appeared coming out the side of the front passenger seat in that vehicle. She ended up crouched in the space between the driver and passenger there, with three more guys behind her. All five were completely shocked by her sudden appearance.


    ¡°Hiya!¡± she cheerfully greeted, while her right hand snapped out. A blade extended from the back of the metal glove, slicing into the front passenger¡¯s throat even as he started to yank his gun back in the window so he could aim it at her. As blood exploded from the man¡¯s throat, he reflexively fired a shot into the windshield. But it was a windshield that Cassidy herself was looking at and focused on, so the bullet didn¡¯t shatter the glass. Instead, it vanished right as it would have struck the windshield, emerging from the left-rear passenger window to embed itself in the head of the man sitting there, who had just been lifting his shotgun. His body fell sideways into the man next to him, who had only just been reacting to the figure appearing directly in front of him when suddenly his buddy beside him was dead with a gunshot to the side of his head. A gunshot which technically came from another friend in the front passenger seat, who was also dead.


    The way the seating arrangements in the van went, there were the two men in front, two in the middle, and one man in the far back. Given the two who had been killed now, that left one in each row of seats alive. Well, for the moment. Cassidy wasn¡¯t planning on letting that last very long.


    The driver had shifted in his seat enough to yank his own pistol out and started to point it at her. But she simply snapped her hand forward into the dash. It came out through the window beside the man in the third seat, and she caught him by the hair. As he cried out, Cassidy yanked backwards, pulling his head sideways (from his perspective) until it emerged from the dashboard, right in the path of the driver¡¯s gun as he pulled the trigger. He was dead before he even understood what was happening, and Cassidy gave him a shove back through the dash so he could slump in the rear seat. In the same motion, her other hand caught the driver¡¯s wrist before he could adjust his aim or even react to having shot his own companion in the head. He was already screaming, but that got worse a moment later, as she used both hands to shove his arm upward. His hand disappeared through the roof of the car, and he felt open air. He blinked in confusion while staring into that featureless metal mask for a moment, before Cassidy turned to look through the windshield. The man looked as well, one hand still on the steering wheel. Just ahead of them, he saw¡­ his own hand, clutching the gun. It was sticking up out of the road, right in front of the van. Right in front of the--


    And then the van, at full speed, ran over his own hand. He felt one wheel, then the next, slam into his hand. The van jolted wildly, both from the impact and from his own foot shoving hard on the gas reflexively while his other hand left the wheel. The girl released his arm, and he jerked it down. He¡¯d dropped his gun back on the street, and was screaming as loud as he could as he stared at his mangled, ruined hand.


    Meanwhile, the man in the middle seat had finally gotten himself together enough to point his own gun that way. But Cassidy threw herself sideways and disappeared back into the seat there. She reappeared through the front of the rear-most row of seats, directly behind the man in the middle row and next to the body of the man whom the driver had been forced to shoot in the head. Before the man in the middle seat could even start to understand where the terrifying girl had disappeared to, she was already tapping him on the shoulder. With a scream, he spun around in his seat and opened fire, shooting seven, eight, nine times before realizing that he was shooting at an empty seat as the girl had ducked down. No, he wasn¡¯t shooting into the seat, he was shooting through it. His bullets were--where were his bullets--


    From the front passenger seat, Cassidy whistled for attention. The man in the middle spun back that way, just in time to see the driver with his mangled hand laying slumped over the wheel. Dead from the bullets that he had just fired.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?!¡± the sole surviving man screamed, lifting his pistol once more. He pulled the trigger, but the gun clicked on an empty chamber. He¡¯d already fired all his bullets.


    ¡°Me?¡± the girl replied while tilting her head. ¡°I¡¯m Votary.¡± Even as she said that, the van was still cruising on its own remaining momentum straight toward a building. ¡°And you, well¡­¡± Before the man could react, she tossed herself backwards against the passenger seat once more, appearing beside him. Both of her hands snapped out, one in either direction. Her right hand caught hold of the seatbelt, which she buckled onto herself in one smooth motion, while her left hand caught the man by the neck, giving him a hard shove forward while he was off balance. His head was pushed through the back of the driver¡¯s seat and out the front of the wall of a building. The same building the van was careening toward on the last of its momentum. The gas wasn¡¯t actively being pushed, but they had been heading down the street at a solid clip before the driver was killed.


    Faced with a look at the front of the very same van he was sitting in, the man had time to scream once, before the vehicle collided with the wall his head was sticking out of.


    Grunting with the impact while the front end of the van collapsed (part of it appearing through the back of the seat she had been pushing him through), Cassidy released her grip on the man. Turning her head a little, she murmured, ¡°Now, about that truck¡­¡±


    A short time later, Paige pulled over into an alley, while Luciano cursed her about stopping. She got out of the car and opened his door, bluntly ordering him to emerge. ¡°The guys in the van are dead, believe me. They¡¯re not gonna come after you anymore. See?¡± She pointed to the apartment building across the street. ¡°That¡¯s where you asked to be dropped off, right?¡±


    While he was reacting to that, Cassidy came strolling around the corner, still wearing her metal mask. Paige walked that way. ¡°You take care of both vehicles? I didn¡¯t see what happened with the truck.¡±


    ¡°Van, yeah,¡± the other girl replied. ¡°As for the truck¡­ Well, we need to talk about that.¡±


    So, the two held a brief, murmured conversation. Luciano couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying, and really didn¡¯t care. He was out of that fucking city, and ready to move on. ¡°Hey! You did your job, so thanks, I guess. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ve got shit to do.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear that, Kourai?¡± Votary asked the girl beside her.


    ¡°I did,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°We did our job.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± a third figure, this one dressed in a dark ski mask, announced while coming around the corner at a quick stride. ¡°Now let me do mine.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± Luciano demanded.


    ¡°She¡¯s the girl who was in that truck,¡± Votary casually replied. ¡°Girl in the truck, this is Kourai and Luciano.¡±


    The newcomer didn¡¯t even spare a glance at Paige. Instead, she focused on Luciano, reaching up to yank her ski mask off to reveal short brown hair and clearly mixed-race skin. ¡°My name¡¯s Eleanor Murphy,¡± she snapped. ¡°You killed my fucking brother, you stupid piece of shit.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I--¡± Luciano started.


    Before he could say any more, Murphy raised the pistol she was holding clutched tightly in her hand, and unloaded on him. Four bullets hit the man in the chest, one in the leg, one in the hand, and one in his throat. He hit the ground, choking and dying there in the dirt.


    Paige and Cassidy exchanged glances, before the latter raised her hand to rest it on the newcomer¡¯s shoulder as she pulled the trigger several more useless times while glaring at the fallen man. ¡°Hey there, Eleanor Murphy.


    ¡°Have we got the club for you.¡±

 Enkindle 23-11

    Yeah, needless to say, this was all very confusing. Even more confusing than the whole situation revolving around Luciano had already been, which was really saying something. Before this, we had been dealing with a man who was supposed to be dead and somehow wasn¡¯t, a corpse with powers. Which I maybe could have explained as him Touching right as he died and getting some weird regeneration or something. Now, suddenly we were dealing with more than one of him? More than one obvious corpse with the same powers? Now, I really had no idea what the hell was going on. Aside from the fact that this guy also looked dead, also had the same powers, and was also trying to hurt or kill people.


    We had to stop him. Whatever else was actually going on remained a mystery, but that much was clear. This guy was attacking people, and we had to put a stop to it. Maybe we¡¯d actually be able to contain this one and find out some real answers. But first, we had to make sure he didn¡¯t hurt anyone else. And judging from the experience we¡¯d had with Luciano, that was going to be easier said than done. But hey, at least this time we had the whole group and I could openly use my powers. Maybe that would make the difference.


    Of course, the very first thing we had to do was get him away from those people he was trying to attack. So, even as the questions of who he was and what was going on flashed through my mind, I was already using a shot of blue paint on my boots to launch myself forward off the edge of the roof. As I passed over the scene below, I shot two wads of red paint, one at the middle of the bench he was busy melting his way through, and the other at the ground behind him. While still in mid-air, I activated both, and the already partially melted bench jerked its way off the ground and slammed into the man, knocking him backward away from those people.


    Unfortunately, there were still other civilians in the area. One of which decided to use that exact moment to run in and try to take a picture of what was going on with his phone, even as I used an orange heart on my back to protect myself from the hard landing. Which was just stupid enough that I was momentarily struck dumb, giving the idiot a double-take.


    Thankfully, the others weren¡¯t waiting around either. Alloy went sailing past just over his head, encasing the moron in a shell made of one of her marbles so she could pick him up and move the suddenly protesting man clear to the far side of the area.


    Meanwhile, Hobbes landed hard. She had used the last moment of the orange paint I¡¯d given her before we arrived and saw what was going on. She shouted something I didn¡¯t catch at the two civilians who had been cowering there, before extending her hand. With obvious confusion, they each grabbed her offered arm. Then she pointed back the way she¡¯d come, to where Calvin was still standing. With a snap of her fingers, she activated the teleportation tech Trevithick had installed in the suits, taking herself and the pair who had grabbed onto her arm back up to the roof and (hopefully) to some measure of safety.


    I had landed directly between the spot where their attacker had been, and where he was now. With a sound that was something halfway between a laugh and a roar, he flung the remains of the bench away, springing back to his feet. Just like Luciano, he gave me a broad smile. And just like Luciano, his teeth were glowing, clearly giving off intense heat.


    He didn¡¯t say anything, of course. The only noise he made was that roar-laugh, as he dropped down to lope toward me, using his hands as well as his feet. It was like he was a gorilla or something, loping rapidly toward me while showing off those bright, burning-hot teeth.


    ¡°I can¡¯t figure out if you¡¯d be a fantastic ad for the dentist, or a terrible one,¡± I announced, while using another bit of blue paint to launch myself upward in a flip that carried me over his charge. Twisting around before coming down in a crouch behind him, I added, ¡°On the one hand, you¡¯ve got fantastic chompers. On the other hand, I¡¯m pretty sure melting through anything you bite is a no-go for most people. And can you imagine trying to brush them?¡±


    He was fast, pivoting back toward me with a high-pitched chittering sound before lunging toward where I was. But by that point, Poise and Style had landed, each dropping down on either side of the man now that I had given them the opening. They each caught one of his arms, holding him. Which lasted for about half a second before he jerked his arms together, slamming the pair into one another before flinging them away from him. Both girls went tumbling in opposite directions, clearly dazed from the impact.


    Before he could follow up on that in any way, a beam of orange-gold light shot down from the roof, where Hobbes was holding one of Trevithick¡¯s rifles. When the beam struck the man, it wrapped around him. He was lifted off the ground, flipped over, and slammed down into the concrete with enough force to crack it before the beam faded.


    Activating a series of green lightning bolts on my legs, I raced that way before he could pick himself up. My hands extended, shooting red paint at his arms and legs as well as the ground itself, activating all of it to hold him down for a few seconds.


    At least, that was the plan. Unfortunately, the pavement under him began to melt, taking away the red paint I¡¯d put there. Without the concrete there, there was no paint, and without the paint, there was nothing holding him down. Which I found out the hard way as he sprang up and lashed out with his fist. Luckily, I already had a couple orange stars running up my arms, and managed to activate them just as that punch collided with my chest, sending me windmilling through the air to land hard on my back.


    Yeah, this was clearly going well. Paige and Sierra were still picking themselves up after being slammed together and tossed aside like that, and the special gun Murphy had used barely slowed the guy down at all. He had been slammed into the ground hard enough to break the concrete under him, and it barely drew a reaction. Now I was on the ground too, blinking away a moment of being dazed.


    Abruptly, a hand caught mine and I heard Wren shout something about moving. She had come diving down from the air, catching my hand before using her momentum to drag me several feet in an instant. In that same moment, our new not-friend slammed down onto the ground where I had been. A snarl of obvious frustration escaped him as he had been trying to grab me. Without Trevithick there¡­ yeah, that wouldn¡¯t have been fun.


    Blurting a thanks to her, I flipped back to my feet. Poise and Style were back up as well by that point, the three of us (four with Wren hovering just above me) formed a triangle around the bad guy, while Calvin and Hobbes were still up on the roof.


    Then there was Alloy, who was back from getting the picture-taking moron and a couple other onlookers out of the way. She landed near Style, and we all squared off against this confusing figure. Only a few seconds had passed since I jumped off the building, and now we were all facing off with him. I just hoped this one wouldn¡¯t magically vanish. Or, if he did, that we¡¯d at least see what happened.


    Of course, because this entire situation wasn¡¯t creepy enough as it was, our quarry had to go and make it even worse. Namely, by turning his head all the way around in a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree circle, taking in each of us. It started with a slow creak as his head twisted, followed by a series of incredibly disturbing snaps as he literally broke his own neck to complete the turn. By the time it came back around to facing me, he healed the whole thing once more. He literally broke his own neck repeatedly to turn it all the way around, allowing it to heal afterward. Which was just¡­ yeah.


    ¡°Okay, this guy is not ticking my fuzzy feeling boxes,¡± I managed while everyone else stared that way. ¡°We can¡¯t let him walk away from this.¡±


    ¡°You got any bright ideas, buddy?¡± Style asked, already starting to take a few steps to one side away from Peyton, clearly creating a bit of room between them in case he chose to attack. ¡°Cuz I sort of left my ¡®trap metal-melting super-regen zombie monster¡¯ lasso in my other pants.¡± As she spoke, the girl spun a long piece of metal she¡¯d ripped from the partially demolished bench in one hand.


    Before I could respond to that, the monster in question abruptly spun toward Poise and started to lunge that way. But in mid-motion, he was suddenly brought up short, as a purple, glowing ¡®rope¡¯ went flying around the figure and pulled tight against his torso. His arms were yanked to his sides and he jerked to a halt.


    ¡°What can I say?¡± Alloy called. Her purple marble had formed that rope and was hovering in the air beside her. ¡°You gave me an idea.¡±


    Of course, the monster immediately pivoted and went to lunge back toward her. But the moment he did, the marble stiffened itself so it was more like a pole than a rope. Despite that, though he was slowed down, our new friend wasn¡¯t completely stopped. He kept moving one step, then another.


    But Alloy wasn¡¯t done either. She added her silver and white marbles in their own lasso/pole versions, both of which grabbed and yanked in different directions. If the purple marble and Alloy herself were at the twelve-o¡¯clock position, the silver and white marbles yanked at him from the four and seven positions. All three lassos pulled at him from different directions to hold his movement.


    Of course, I couldn¡¯t let her do that by herself. As soon as I saw the man trying to strain against them, I showered him in yellow paint. It slowed him down, stopping him from gaining the momentum he needed to break the grip of the marble lassos. We had him.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    At least, for the moment we did. Unfortunately, smoke began to billow off the momentarily-trapped figure¡¯s body, as his skin cracked and peeled, blistering away right in front of us. His clothes melted away almost immediately, which made this whole thing even more upsetting. Now we were dealing with a naked corpse. Which was just¡­ eurgh. I tried not to look down. At the same time, smoke also began to come off the marble lassos.


    ¡°Oh shit, they can¡¯t take a lot of that!¡± Alloy blurted, already stumbling away from her clearly burning hot purple marble. ¡°Guys, you¡¯ve gotta do something! They¡¯re gonna have to let him go!¡±


    Right, what exactly were we supposed to do? This guy could melt through anything we tried to contain him with, and I was pretty sure we couldn¡¯t hit him hard enough to make him stay down. Not with his regeneration. For fuck¡¯s sake, he had just repeatedly broken his own neck just to look at all of us in turn. What the hell were we supposed to do about that?


    ¡°Keep him busy!¡± That was Trevithick, hovering near me. Her eyes snapped my way as she added, ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea!¡± She held a screwdriver in one hand and was pointing up toward Calvin and Hobbes. ¡°But you gotta keep him here for a minute! Maybe three!¡± Then she was off and flying at top speed that way.


    ¡°Okay, guys, you heard her,¡± I blurted. ¡°We keep the guy busy for a few minutes. Alloy, let him go!¡± Even as I said that, I was already pointing my hands that way, shooting a burst of blue paint toward the ground at his feet. ¡°Style, pull!¡±


    Immediately, Alloy removed the lassos, allowing her marbles to shift back to their natural shape. At the same time, the blue paint launched the figure upward a good ten feet in the air. And Style, who had reacted instantly, hurled that makeshift metal spear of hers right into the man. Between her own strength and his super-heated body, it went through his stomach easily and was already starting to melt. Which told me something about how bad of an idea would be for a normal person to be anywhere near him.


    But I wasn¡¯t an ordinary person. Painting myself half purple and half orange, I put blue under my feet and launched myself that way. Even with half my body covered with my protection-paint, I could still feel the heat as I slammed into the man. My fist collided with his face, snapping his head back so hard I heard another snap. Not that it really mattered, given everything else he¡¯d already recovered so easily from (not to mention how dead he already looked), but still. It made me flinch just a little inwardly.


    What also made me flinch, much more outwardly, was the way his own fists came together to slam into my head in mid-air. I was smacked right down, slamming into the pavement with a yelp. Thankfully, between my paint and my helmet, I was okay. It just sort of stunned me briefly.


    ¡°Paintball!¡± That was Poise, coming our way. She was ignoring the staggering heat, rushing toward me as I lay at the living corpse¡¯s feet. At the last second, I managed to twist myself around, shooting out a spray of orange that caught her in the chest to give her a bit of added protection just as her fist lashed out to punch the bad guy in the face.


    With a grunt, I threw myself up and away from him before my own paint could run out. The last thing I wanted to do was be anywhere near that guy without protection. Not now that he had clearly cranked up the heat beyond any reasonable level. The metal pole through his stomach had almost entirely melted. It was like taffy, sticking out both sides of his body. Even as I looked that way, the two ends literally snapped off, each falling to the ground. Which left the rest of the melted metal inside his body, but I was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t slow him down any more than anything else had.


    Meanwhile, Paige hit him three times in rapid succession, her fists moving almost too quick for me to see. Which got even faster as I hit her with a shot of green paint from one hand and purple from the other, allowing the girl to throw herself into a whirlwind of violence, her fists colliding with the man hard enough to actually drive him back a few steps despite his own immense strength. He staggered, but not for long. Even as I was springing back to my feet to rejoin her, his foot lashed out to collide with the other girl¡¯s stomach. She was sent flying into me, both of us crashing down together to roll along the pavement.


    Worse, even as we rolled, all tangled up with each other, I could see the bad guy lunge after us. He clearly intended to land on top, his mouth open to reveal those terrible, burning teeth. No, he didn¡¯t intend to just land on us. He intended to eat us, literally.


    But we weren¡¯t alone. As the man was still in mid-leap, a silver fist the size of a bicycle slammed into him from the side. It hit the monster hard enough to send him flying into a nearby lamp post, bending it over partway from the impact. And then said post started to melt, allowing him to fall through to hit the pavement. Which itself started to melt under him.


    A second large marble hand, this one white and shaped like an open palm, smacked down into the man from overhead. It was like swatting a massive fly. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t have the same result as smacking a fly, as the man barely grunted under the impact. It didn¡¯t knock him flat, let alone smash him. He took that blow like a champ, before shoving himself back to his feet.


    Which was when Style, literally riding on the purple marble as it was shaped like a flying surfboard, went sailing past him. She wasn¡¯t too close, but still, it was hot enough that I could see her skin start to blister a bit. In that motion, her hands snapped out, sending a pair of small knives that way. Knives which collided with the man¡¯s eyes, burying themselves there. They immediately began to melt, but the damage was done. At least for the moment, he couldn¡¯t see. Given his absurd healing, it wouldn¡¯t last long. But it gave us a little bit of an opening. I just hoped we could actually do something with that. Because quite frankly, this wasn¡¯t going super-well.


    Thankfully, all of that did at least give Paige and me a chance to untangle ourselves and roll away from each other. We popped back to our feet, as I took a moment to hit both of us as well as Sierra with orange protection paint. We had another ten seconds where the heat coming off this son of a bitch wouldn¡¯t instantly cook us alive. And something told me it wouldn¡¯t take much more than that before his eyes would be fully healed. We had to take advantage of this opening while we had it.


    So, I blurted, ¡°Distract him!¡± Then I dove sideways, putting myself closer but not directly in front of the man, who was wildly swinging in a blind attempt to grab one of us as he staggered our way with a snarl.


    Luckily, Poise, Style, and Alloy were definitely ready to be distractions. The first two lunged that way, hitting the man one after the other with a pair of hard punches to either side of his jaw that rocked his head backward. He tried to grab both of them, but they rolled under and away from his grasping arms. Which was when Alloy shaped her purple marble into a sort of pole with a hook on it, catching onto the back of his neck briefly to yank him forward. Which sent him stumbling right into her path as she hurled herself, feet first, into his chest to knock him backward.


    Or at least, she intended to knock him backward. Unfortunately, even that full-force collision wasn¡¯t enough to actually make him even lose a step. It was like she¡¯d collided with a brick wall. She bounced right off and would¡¯ve hit the ground right in front of him while he was stomping down, but her marble-formed costume took over and flew sideways with her inside to carry Peyton out of the way of that descending foot.


    By that point, I had managed to pop up behind the man, blurting, ¡°Poise, Style, get his arms!¡± At the same time, I hit them each with a shot of purple, knowing this guy was too strong for even those two to hold without that.


    They reacted quickly, each grabbing one of those limbs while he swung for them. Thankfully, the orange paint that was still active meant they weren¡¯t immediately burned, but it still clearly wasn¡¯t exactly fun. He was also so strong that even with the added purple paint, they could barely hold him. Between the two, Paige and Sierra managed to twist his arms behind his back. Which was when I hit both arms with pink paint, made sure I had my own purple and orange boosts active, and lunged that way.


    Alloy had figured out what I was doing, and quickly shaped two of her marbles into hooked poles to catch hold of his legs and hold them in place, while a third one hooked around his neck. With the heat he was giving off, they wouldn¡¯t be able to hold him for long. None of them would. But hopefully it would be long enough.


    Between Alloy¡¯s marbles, Paige, and Sierra, they barely managed to hold the guy in place while I grabbed his hands. The instant I did, I could already feel my skin start to burn. Fuck, even with my orange paint, he was giving off so much heat it still hurt. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how bad it would be without the paint. I had to act quickly. His arms and hands were pink, so I activated the paint and yanked hard on his hands. They came like taffy thanks to the paint, and I was able to quickly and efficiently tie them together. Yeah, I literally tied his hands, twisting the fingers around one another in as complicated of knots as I could manage. The whole process made me want to hurl, yet I kept it down, using all the protection time I had to tie up his hands and arms. In the last couple seconds, I yanked harder down, pulling those taffy-like arms toward his legs before wrapping them around those. I had tied his hands together and then tied those around his legs, bending him backward slightly in the process.


    Finally, I stumbled away, shouting for the others to let the man go. In the process, I hit him with another shot of pink paint so his arms wouldn¡¯t untie themselves once the first dose wore off.


    The others released him too and we all stumbled away, while he snarled and yanked at his own arms and legs. This was how we could stop him. At least temporarily. He could melt through anything, but he couldn¡¯t melt through himself. Well, not very effectively, anyway. I was putting his own heat and regeneration against one another. He healed his own melting body faster than he could actually melt his way free of his tied-together limbs. As long as I kept hitting him with more pink paint to keep it up, he couldn¡¯t get anywhere or attack anyone. Not very effectively, anyway.


    Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t keep it up forever. But even as I opened my mouth to call out that someone else needed to do something because I was almost out of paint, Wren flew over our heads, shouting for everyone to get down.


    So, we did. Alloy, Poise, Style, and I all hit the ground together. In that moment, Calvin and Hobbes opened up with those Touched-Tech guns from the roof. Guns which had apparently been modified by Trevithick, because instead of the beams wrapping around the man and slamming him into the ground, they actually picked him up and held him. The beams stayed mostly steady, crackling with power just a bit as they hauled the figure off the ground and kept him there, suspended a few feet off the melting concrete.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Wren cheered, hovering there a short distance away as she punched the air triumphantly. ¡°It worked!¡±


    Which, of course, was the moment that the man in question let his head tilt to the side. I swore he was looking right at me. Or through me. Then his body melted. Literally melted. It burned, boiled, turned to a mix of ooze and ashes right in front of us while the twin beams from those two guns were holding him aloft.


    In the next instant, the ash blew away, the ooze dissipated¡­ and the man was gone.

 Enkindle 23-12

    With the body¨Cor man¨Cor whatever he was completely gone, we all just stood there staring at the spot where the last of the ashes had blown away. Three or four full seconds of complete silence passed, where you probably could¡¯ve heard a pin drop. And then that silence was interrupted, rather abruptly, by a distant voice shouting from the rooftop.


    ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡±


    It was Murphy, of course. Or Hobbes. She was standing there next to Roald/Calvin, both of them staring past us at the spot where the man had been. Her voice came again, but it was quieter. She was saying something about what happened to the guy. I could guess the gist of it. But I certainly didn¡¯t have any answers for her. I was too busy asking the exact same questions.


    Wren, landing beside me, spoke in a far quieter, more subdued voice. ¡°Did¡­ did he just die?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Peyton immediately answered, before catching herself. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t think so? I mean, he looked like he was already¨Cbut we didn¡¯t actually¨CI mean¡­¡± Her head shook helplessly as she looked around at the rest of us. ¡°What just happened?¡±


    Finally, I found my voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I murmured. ¡°But it was nothing we did. I mean, we caught him. We had him. And then he just¡­¡±


    ¡°Disintegrated,¡± Paige put in flatly. ¡°Whether that was some form of teleportation or just suicide, I have no idea. But the latter seems a little bit dramatic given the circumstances.¡±


    ¡°The other dude disappeared like that too,¡± Sierra pointed out. ¡°I mean, that has to be it, right? He was out of our sight in that dumpster and when we took it off, he was just gone. Like this. It has to be the same thing. So did they both burn up forever and¡­ I mean did they just¨CI¡­ huh.¡±


    My head nodded slowly as a grimace crossed my face. ¡°Yeah, huh is about right. Part of me really wants to freak out right now, but the other part is too confused to do any freaking. Whatever all that was, it was really screwed up. This whole situation is screwed up.¡± Even as I said that, I was turning to where Murphy and Roald were, extending a hand to send a shot of orange paint that way before calling out, ¡°It¡¯s safe, you can bring them down!¡±


    Murphy, who took the bulk of the paint, immediately hopped down. She landed fairly smoothly on the ground below, then stood still and waited while Roald got the two people who had been hiding behind the bench before they rescued them. They held onto him, while he snapped his fingers and pointed at Murphy, teleporting down to her with passengers in tow. The two civilians were staring at the spot where that guy had disappeared with as much shock and confusion as I was feeling right then. Maybe even more, considering some of us had already encountered something like that.


    Speaking of which, I forced my gaze away from that spot and focused on the two people he had been attacking. Making my voice as calm as possible, I spoke up. ¡°Um, did either of you know that guy? Do you know who he was, or what the hell that was about?¡±


    Rather than answer right away, the woman of the pair, a dark-skinned girl in her early to mid twenties with long braided hair, quickly blurted, ¡°Y-you saved us. Oh my God, you saved us. You all-you all¨CDash was gonna¨C¡± With that, she promptly turned and bent over at the knees to throw up in the nearby ditch.


    ¡°Dash,¡± Paige jumped on. ¡°His name is Dash?¡±


    The man, a Latino around the same age as his companion, gave a quick, almost frantic nod. ¡°Fuck, yeah, that¡¯s him. Dash Cooper. He was¨Cwe were¨Che died, okay? We were at a party a couple weeks ago. We were driving home and he had a little too much in his system, so he totaled it against a stoplight. He was dead, totally and completely dead. We buried that motherfucker. We fucking buried him, dude! There was a funeral a-a-and he was dead!¡±


    The woman straightened up, spitting once before giving a shaky nod of agreement. ¡°We were just out here picking up some food, and then¡­ then h-he popped up out of nowhere and started like¡­ fucking repeating our words, echoing what we were saying. Only it sounded like us, like our voices in his mouth! He was like¨Che was mocking us and trying to¡­ fuck, fuck, fuck!¡±


    Okay, yeah, this was getting more disturbing by the moment. This was definitely the same sort of thing as the other zombie. But what did that say about the Luciano version? Were there really two zombie guys with heat powers and¨Cfuck, I had no idea. Nothing. None of this made any sense. How could there be two dead guys who both happened to get the same power to keep them in a half-alive state? It had to be something else, the coincidence was too absurd otherwise. There had to be some other person doing this, right? This was all¨Cthe whole thing was just¨Cwhat? We had more information now than before, but none of it helped. In fact, it made the whole situation even more confusing.


    ¡°I-is he like¡­ dead and gone now?¡± The man looked between all of us as he asked that. ¡°I mean, he¡¯s not¡­ he¡¯s not coming back, right? He fucking disintegrated.¡±


    ¡°He was dead before and came back, Carlos!¡± the girl blurted those words while almost hyperventilating. ¡°What the fuck¡¯s gonna stop him from coming back again?! I don¡¯t know what the hell happened, why he¨Cwhat¨C¡± She looked straight to me, pleading desperately, ¡°Just fucking tell me, what the hell is going on?¡±


    Swallowing hard, I shook my head. ¡°We don¡¯t know, exactly. I¡¯m sorry, I wish we did. I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s not gone forever though. Whatever this is, that seems too¡­ easy.¡± I was grimacing even as I said that. Part of me wanted to tell them that he wasn¡¯t the only one, but I was afraid that they would get interviewed by people working for the Ministry, which could potentially lead to my parents learning that Paintball and company had encountered this zombie thing before. Which could lead to them realizing that we were the same people who encountered Luciano earlier, and that¡­ yeah, it could potentially give them too much information. So I kept quiet about that.


    Before anyone else could say anything, a glimpse of movement from one side made my gaze snap toward one of the surrounding buildings. A figure came running across the rooftop there, before leaping down from the top of the six story building. She landed as lightly on the pavement as if she had just stepped off a curb before straightening up.


    Caishen. It was Caishen, apparently having used her power to reduce the ¡®value¡¯ of that fall damage down to being negligible. She stood there in her usual costume of dark purple scale mail armor, a gold leather coat, black boots, and a black helmet with glowing purple lenses over the eyes. The coat itself billowed a bit too perfectly in the breeze, making her look even cooler. I was very tempted to ask if that was some sort of Touched-Tech enhancement, but it felt like the wrong time.


    ¡°Was there another one?¡± the woman demanded, looking us over. ¡°Another¡­ zombie?¡± It sounded like she was already regretting even saying that out loud, but couldn¡¯t think of another, better word for it.


    ¡°Another one?¡± I found myself demanding despite myself, giving her a quick double-take. ¡°What do you mean, another one?¡±


    Her gaze locked onto me as she flatly replied, ¡°There¡¯s been a few of them all over the city. We¡¯ve been dealing with them, but they keep disappearing.¡± After saying that, she focused on the two civilians. ¡°Here, you two should go sit down with the medics.¡±


    I was about to ask what medics she was talking about, but even as the words came to my mouth, an ambulance with its lights on but no siren came around the corner and screeched to a halt. She must¡¯ve been in contact with them or had their location marked inside her helmet or something. Whatever it was, the medics were already out and guiding our two witnesses over to sit down and get looked over.


    Once they were on their way, Caishen focused on us. ¡°Okay, first of all, should I assume that all of you are together?¡± Her gaze moved over each of us before she added, ¡°This seems new. You¡¯re all¨Cwhat was it you said your ahh, team was called back at the convention? Avant-Guard with a u?¡±


    Hopping once, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, this is us. We¡¯re still working out the details and all that. But uhh, you know me, Paintball. You should probably know Alloy. And uhh, this is Trevithick.¡±


    ¡°Hi!¡± Wren blurted, hovering up on those wings to be on the same level as Caishen. ¡°Does your daughter really make giant bugs?¡±


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°She does,¡± Caishen confirmed, giving her a curious once-over. ¡°Maybe you should visit sometime.¡±


    While Wren hurriedly agreed to that idea, I gestured to the others. ¡°This is Calvin and Hobbes, and that¡¯s Style and Poise.¡± The first two waved a bit awkwardly, while Sierra and Paige simply saluted in unison before glancing at one another and making uncomfortable noises in the back of their throats.


    ¡°I suppose those all fit your team name theme, in one way or another,¡± Caishen mused thoughtfully. Her gaze moved over all of us intently, and I could tell she was filing away every detail. I could also tell that she wanted to ask about powers and such, but for whatever reason decided not to. Instead, she asked, ¡°Are you all okay?¡±


    ¡°Physically, sure,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Pretty perfect, really. But mentally? That¡¯s a different story. What the hell was going on with that guy? What do you mean there were others like him? Was he really a zombie? Those guys over there said he was their friend and he died a couple weeks ago. Died and was buried. Then he just popped up a few minutes ago and started going after them, taunting them with their own voices or whatever. So what the hell?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, dude,¡± Peyton put in, ¡°I mean, supervillains and stopping robberies and stuff is one thing, but a zombie apocalypse? That¡¯s like, the completely wrong genre. Every time they try to stick zombies into a superhero thing, it¡¯s cash grab nonsense. Or like, an alternate universe. And quite frankly, I really don¡¯t feel like thinking that I¡¯m an alternate version of myself, because those usually get killed for not being important enough to carry a monthly book.¡±


    My mouth opened and then shut as I stared at the girl for a moment before turning back to Caishen. ¡°Uh, yeah, basically what she said. We¡¯d really like to know what¡¯s actually going on. And, you know, I¡¯m not that eager to be considered a disposable alternate universe version of myself either.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Paige agreed simply, her tone sounding completely serious. ¡°We¡¯d all prefer not to be killed off just to prove the situation is serious. So would you please explain how this is not an actual zombie apocalypse? I¡¯m sure we¡¯d all appreciate it. Or just anything you know.¡±


    ¡°Well, ahh, Poise?¡± Caishen started before continuing when Paige nodded in confirmation. ¡°I wish I could tell all of you exactly what¡¯s going on here. But the fact is, we don¡¯t know the details. We have no idea how this started, where the¡­ people are coming from, or what¡¯s controlling them. It does not seem to be a¡­ ahem, apocalypse, because there are only a few of them. Well, so far, at least.¡± She held up her hand so we could see her crossed fingers. ¡°They all seem to have the same regenerative and fire-related powers, along with having been dead at one point. Our best guess is that this is a single Touched who has gained the power to reanimate and enhance dead people. How they have memories enough to attack people connected to them or¡­ whatever is still up in the air. But we do believe it¡¯s being done by a single person who has not revealed themselves yet. They may still be testing their power, finding out what they¡¯re truly capable of. Either way, we will track them down. Don¡¯t any of you worry. If you see another attack like this, try to get any civilians out of the way, and delay the¡­ reanimated beings. From what we¡¯ve seen, they have some sort of time limit that they can be active. It seems like they keep going for a relatively short time before¡­ falling apart or needing to rest. So far there¡¯s no information on whether they can come back a second time after falling apart. We need you to keep your eyes open for that too. If you see this same guy back again, let us know, okay? We¡¯re all flying pretty blind right now and could use all the information we can get for how to deal with this.¡±


    I was nodding quickly even as she finished saying that. ¡°Sure, yeah, if we find out anything else, I will personally let you know. And I guess it goes without saying that if we find out who is actually behind all this¡­¡±


    ¡°Report that too,¡± Caishen confirmed, her gaze locking onto mine. ¡°I mean it. Whoever¡¯s behind this is incredibly dangerous. If you find out anything, and I mean anything at all that could help track them down or identify them, you call. Even if you don¡¯t think it¡¯s that important, even if it¡¯s minor. You have no idea what tiny clue could give the rest of us answers. And you do not, under any circumstances, find out where this person is and go after them alone. Do you hear me? I don¡¯t know what half of you are capable of, but I do know that you¡¯re all really new and very young. So if you find something out, you call it in. If I find out that you¡¯re going after this person by yourselves or knew something you didn¡¯t report, I will make it my mission to ground all of you. And in case you didn¡¯t know, a grounding in Touched life means you will not go out on the streets. Police will not tolerate your actions. I am positive that all of you are technically under age. So you can be grounded if it comes down to it. If you know something, report it so we can all work together to stop this person. Have I made myself clear?¡±


    Swallowing, I gave a short nod. ¡°Completely crystal. Anything we find out, we¡¯ll let you know. Believe me, none of us have any desire to go after whoever could do something like this all by ourselves. It was bad enough dealing with one zombie. If this person can make several of them all at once¡­¡± I made a noise in the back of my throat. ¡°I promise, we¡¯ll let you know if we have something solid.¡±


    Accepting that with a nod, the woman promised to talk to us some more later, but explained that she had other things to deal with. Mostly revolving around handling all the other zombie appearances. Then she took a moment to hand each of us a card with a number we could call if we found out anything or just wanted to talk, adding that this whole life could be very dangerous and complicated. That was mostly directed to the five of us she had never seen before. Especially Wren. She stressed that she had been serious about having the girl visit her daughter, even if she was several years older, reminding her to call and set something up.


    Something told me that Caishen tried to have any and all of the young Touched visit Lightning Bug whenever she could. Even if there were several years worth of difference in their ages, it wasn¡¯t like there was an abundance of Touched that young. As far as I knew, Lightning Bug was the only one in the entire state who was under the age of eight or nine. And even those were pretty rare. Most Touched were either adults or in their mid-teens at the youngest. Which made me feel a little sad for LB herself. It had to feel weird, being that openly Touched and having no one else her own age like that. To say nothing of the fact that she couldn¡¯t go to normal schools or anything like that. Yeah, she had her family, and everyone at Ten Towers loved her. But¡­ well,  I knew just a little bit about how it could feel isolating to be in a situation similar to that, considering my parents were¡­ who they were. Even discounting the Ministry stuff. Yet I had been incredibly lucky when it came to that. I didn¡¯t fit the physical profile of what the daughter of the richest people in the state should look like, or even act like. I was mostly left alone thanks to that, as well as my family¡¯s efforts to keep me from being a spectacle. I didn¡¯t experience even a quarter of what someone in my position probably normally would have. And yet even then, I knew how weird it could feel.


    For someone like Lightning Bug, who couldn¡¯t hide herself unless she used a hologram creator, whose entire life was built around her powers even though she was only five years old? I couldn¡¯t imagine being in that sort of situation. So yeah, it was no wonder that Caishen clearly tried to have other kids in similar situations come over and visit. She was probably trying to help them as much as her daughter, knowing how they felt.


    And yet, even as those thoughts came through my mind, I also couldn¡¯t help but wonder how much she was getting information for the Ministry. After all, as much sense as all that other stuff made, she could just as easily be using it as an excuse to find out as much as she could for my parents. Just because she wasn¡¯t the one in charge didn¡¯t mean she had no connection to them, after all. We still had to dig through that data we¡¯d stolen to find out if there was anything connecting her to them. At that moment, I made that a priority in my mind. I was going to triple-check everything and see if there was even the slightest sliver connecting her to the Ministry before Wren went over there.


    ¡°Yo, Earth to Paintball!¡± I was suddenly brought out of my musings when Sierra snapped her fingers in front of my face. ¡°You okay?¡±


    Jerking a bit, I looked around. They were all staring at me, clearly waiting. ¡°I uhh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.¡± Even as I said that, my gaze caught sight of a couple cops approaching after having secured the area. ¡°Here, you guys should head out. See that roof over there? Head that way. I¡¯ll tell our friends here what happened, then meet you there.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± Paige asked. ¡°We could all stick around.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I quickly replied while shaking my head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll take care of it. I mean, there¡¯s no reason to make all of you sit here and talk to the cops. Go ahead, I¡¯ll be there when it¡¯s over.¡±


    With varying degrees of reluctance, they headed out, and I took a deep breath before turning to face the officers, raising my hand. ¡°Hey guys,¡± I started slowly.


    ¡°How¡¯re your days going?¡±


    ******


    After leaving the cops about fifteen minutes later once I¡¯d given them all the information I could (and found in turn that there had been five other separate sightings over the past couple hours), I had just red-painted my way up to the nearby roof where I¡¯d sent the others. No sooner had I landed and started to tell them how it went, than something caught my eye. It was Riddles, flying close to me before looping around to head toward a lower building. When I glanced that way, I could see Pack standing there, clearly waiting.


    With a shrug to myself, I pointed her out to the others before giving them some paint protection. Once they were safe, I created a wide blue line to shoot all of us over to the other roof. Landing smoothly, I tried to sound cheerful. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up? Birdwatching?¡± Behind and around me, the others landed.


    Rather than joke back with me, or even address the rest of the group, Pack spoke flatly. ¡°I need your help. You saw one of those zombie things, right?¡±


    My head bobbed immediately. ¡°Sure, I¨Cwait, why do you need help with it? Is something wrong? Did you see one of them?¡±


    Pack didn¡¯t answer at first. Instead, she let out a breath, hand idly scratching Tuesday in his small form on her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s more than that. It¡¯s¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s me.¡± The new voice came from one side, as Broadway stepped into view. She sounded nervous, not at all the way I¡¯d seen her before. ¡°She wants you to help me. Because I think I know who¡¯s behind these zombies.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s my brother.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 16

    Izzy and Amber


    Standing on the edge of a large pond in the middle of a park, Izzy Amor held a bag of mixed chopped lettuce, cracked corn, and frozen peas. The nearby ducks chased after every handful she tossed out, and the small girl giggled to herself at the sight just how eager they were to get the food. She tried to spread out her tosses so the ducks would separate a bit and not run into each other so much. Some of it ended up out in the water, and they chased those bits just as frantically, speeding out with their motorboat-like legs before their heads dove down to get the food. Some became distracted by other things in the water. And through it all, loud, excited quacking filled the air.


    ¡°Well they sure seem to be having fun,¡± Amber O¡¯Connell noted as she stepped up beside Izzy and watched the ducks eagerly chasing the most recent tossed handful. ¡°What about you?¡±


    Rather than answer that question directly, Izzy instead quietly noted, ¡°It¡¯s really simple like this, you know? The ducks are always here, they don¡¯t keep the super elite ducks hidden behind some sort of pay wall. They don¡¯t expect anything but this cheap food.¡± She shook the bag in her hand and then promptly threw out another batch to the grass and water as the ducks eagerly and loudly made their hunger known. ¡°They just like being fed.¡±


    Amber stood next to the younger girl and watched the ducks for a moment before quietly murmuring, ¡°They don¡¯t ask if you want to be adopted by a family of billionaires?¡±


    Wincing visibly, Izzy gave a heavy sigh before nodding. ¡°Yeah, they definitely don¡¯t do that either.¡± Her foot kicked the ground before she added, ¡°I¡¯m being stupid about this, huh? I mean, anyone else would practically cut their own leg off to be adopted into the Evans family. Some literally. I mean with an axe and everything.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Amber allowed with a mixture of a smirk and grimace at the imagery there, ¡°but they don¡¯t know what we do. Seriously, the family isn¡¯t exactly normal, like, at all. Not that billionaire families are ever normal, but you know what I mean. There¡¯s a lot more to that whole situation. It¡¯s one thing to live there and know what you do, and another thing to actually be that connected to them. Like, totally connected. Legally connected. They¡¯ve done bad things.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s what makes it even harder,¡± Izzy pointed out with a sigh as she threw another handful. ¡°They¡¯re really nice. It would be easier if they were mean and terrible, but they¡¯re not. I know what it¡¯s like to have a mom who treats you like a tool, like all you¡¯re worth is what you can do for them. I know what that¡¯s like, but they¡¯re not like that. Mrs. Evans is nice. So is Mr. Evans.¡±


    Her face twisted into a grimace as she let that thought run through her head. ¡°I keep thinking I¡¯ll realize that they¡¯re just using me, but the more time I spend there, the more it feels like they really, actually care about me. Not just for what I can do for them, but because of me. It feels like they care¡­ about what I want, about who I am. Not my power. Me.¡±


    She went silent for a moment, but Amber didn¡¯t interrupt. The two of them simply stood there, watching the ducks. Not that it was actually quiet with all the quacking around him, but still.


    Finally, Izzy gave a new heavy sigh before continuing. ¡°My mom, my real mom, she just wanted to use me. She sold me to the bad guys so I could be tortured into being their puppet. She did that just to get a little money for herself. Because she¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s selfish. I know she is. But the Evans, who basically run all the supervillains, they¡¯re really nice to me. Now they want to adopt me. So why¡­¡± She trailed off once more, closing her eyes as a single tear made its way down her face. ¡°Why do I feel like I¡¯m the one betraying her for even thinking about this at all? Why does it feel like I¡¯m dirty and evil because part of me likes the idea of being adopted? And not by just anyone, by people who run all the supervillains in the city!¡±


    Izzy threw the next handful of food farther than before, her other hand clenched tightly around the bag. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with me?¡±


    Amber¡®s hand found its way to her back and gently pressed there. ¡°Listen to me, Izzy. Nothing is wrong with you,¡± she insisted. ¡°I mean, okay, maybe there¡¯s some stuff wrong with you. Terrible taste in cereal, you¡¯re horrible at tying knots, can¡¯t keep the list of state capitals straight¡­¡± She stopped as a little smile played at the other girl¡¯s face, before squeezing her back. ¡°But as far as this goes, nothing. You still love your mom, even if she did all those bad things. Part of you does, anyway. You love the mom you knew in between those times. You love the mom she could¡¯ve been. And you know that accepting this adoption thing will be completely and officially cutting her off from ever being that person again. You¡¯re not evil, Izzy. It¡¯s not wrong to want to be around people who care about you. And yeah, the Evans being who they are makes it even more complicated than it already was. But it¡¯s like you said, they treat you well. You¡¯re not bad for liking that.


    ¡°Remember what Cassidy said. They¡¯re not totally evil and monstrous. They really do care about her, and they care about you too. After what happened with your mom, of course you feel drawn to that. And it¡¯s not a bad thing.¡± Her head shook firmly. ¡°Look, I really don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen eventually with that whole thing. I don¡¯t know how all of this is going to play out. But I know they really care about you. If someday they end up in prison or whatever, they can still care about you. Just like they¡¯ll still love Cassidy.¡±


    Both girls went quiet again, and Izzy handed the bag to Amber so she could throw some food for the ducks. Finally, after a minute of that, she spoke up. ¡°I want them to¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly unsure of her words. When she spoke again, her voice was even more hesitant. ¡°I like spending time with them. I think¨Cno, I know I¡¯d like it even if they didn¡¯t have all that money. They¡¯re nice. They¡¯re fun. Mr. Evans makes me laugh. He¡¯s really good with Cassidy, and I know he¡¯s trying to include me. I just wish they weren¡¯t¡­ you know.¡±


    Amber¡¯s hand gently rubbed her back. ¡°Maybe the whole Ministry thing is over-complicating it, you know? You¡¯ve already got enough to think about when it comes to this whole situation without adding that in. And yeah, someday, somehow, we¡¯ll have to do something about that. Even Cassidy doesn¡¯t know what, and she¡¯s already their daughter. But whatever it is, that¡¯ll come later. Maybe, just for now, you should think about how you¡¯d feel about this whole thing if you didn¡¯t know anything about that. Just try to set it aside for a minute and think about the rest of it.¡±


    Izzy gave a soft, yet audible laugh while shaking her head. ¡°You say that like it makes it easier. But it¡¯s still hard. Even if I didn¡¯t know anything about the Ministry, I¡¯d still be telling my mom I don¡¯t want her to be my mom anymore.¡± Before Amber could say anything to that, she added, ¡°Yeah, I know what she did. I know she started it. But if I do this, it means I¡¯m finishing it.¡± Her body gave a full, visible shudder. ¡°I know that¡¯s stupid, okay? I know there¡¯s no way she could ever be my mom again. It can never be the way it was before, and it shouldn¡¯t be. She broke it. She broke it and it was her choice. She didn¡¯t have to and she did. She made it so we can¡¯t ever be what we were before. My mom can never be my mom again.¡±


    Her hands clenched tightly as she fought to find the right words. ¡°But this is still another door. It¡¯s a door that I¡¯m shutting. I¡¯m telling my mom that I¡¯m done with her. If she comes back, if they find her, I won¡¯t be her daughter again. I¡¯ll be one of the Evans. If I do this, it closes everything with her, forever. And that¡¯s a choice I¡¯m making that I can¡¯t unmake.¡±


    Amber moved her hand away from the girl¡¯s back to throw another bit of food before speaking softly. ¡°Maybe you should think about what¡¯s good for you. I know, I know it¡¯s painful. I know it makes you feel dirty, believe me. It feels like being selfish is wrong, and sometimes it is. But when it comes to your life, to your future, to your¡­ to who you are, you have to be selfish sometimes, Izzy. You can¡¯t bend your entire life around trying to please the people who abuse you, just in case they might stop someday. You owe yourself better than that. It¡¯s your life.¡±


    She swallowed audibly, clearly pushing herself to say more. ¡°It¡¯s like my whole thing with my dad. Every time I think about how I can be happy and make jokes and stuff while he¡¯s still dead and we have no idea who did it, there¡¯s this pain in my stomach, and it feels like it¡¯ll never go away. I don¡¯t think it ever will, not completely. It¡¯ll always be there, to some extent. But then I have to think about how my dad wouldn¡¯t want me to be miserable all the time. He¡¯s my dad. He loved me. He wouldn¡¯t want me to spend every moment of my life being sad.¡±


    Izzy watched the ducks for a minute before quietly asking, ¡°What am I supposed to think about, then?¡±


    Amber gave a hesitant shrug. ¡°You keep focusing on the mom you had in between and before the bad times, the mom she was and could¡¯ve been if all this didn¡¯t happen. Think about her again. I don¡¯t mean in a ¡®make you feel guilty and dirty¡¯ sort of way. I mean, think about the good version of your mom and what she would want for you. You said she used to read you stories and stuff, right? Think about that version of your mom for a minute. Think about being in bed listening to her telling you those stories, reading that book. Think about how she would want you to feel as you grow up. Would she want you to be sad? Would she want you to be miserable, just to be loyal to her after what she did? Or would she want you to be with people who treat you well and care about you? Think about that version of your mom for a minute. What would she want you to do? What choice would she want you to make?¡±


    Izzy didn¡¯t say anything to that at first. She was silent, staring at the lake without actually seeing the water or the ducks. Instead, her mind was focused on that imaginary scenario. She thought about laying in her bed, with her mom sitting on the side of it reading stories to her. She thought about the touch of her mother¡¯s hand against her hair and how safe she had felt in those moments. It made another tear fall slowly before she spoke through the thick lump in her throat. ¡°My mom would want me to be happy.¡± It was one of the hardest things she had ever said. And yet, it was the truth.


    For another few minutes, the two girls stood by the water, throwing food for the ducks while remaining silent. Both were lost in their own thoughts. Finally, when the last of the food was gone and the sun began to set, Izzy turned to the other girl. Her mouth opened, but instead of speaking immediately, she simply wrapped her arms around Amber to embrace her tightly. When her voice came, it cracked a little. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Hey, anytime,¡± Amber replied, returning the hug.


    ¡°But you know, once you¡¯re an official billionaire¡¯s kid, I might have to start charging you.¡± `


    *******


    Ministry Meeting Some Time Before The Raid On The Ministry Base


    Sterling Evans owned several buildings throughout the city of Detroit, and had offices in even more. At the moment, the top floor of one of those main buildings had been entirely shut down for both employees and clients. The elevators were locked and would not come to that floor, or the one under it, and the doors into the stairwells were sealed tight. Between that and several Touched-Tech security measures, the place was kept as private and secure as it could be. It had to be, when the official leadership and higher ranks of the Ministry was meeting there.


    Someone might¡¯ve said that meeting in a building he owned was too dangerous, and would have suggested something like an abandoned warehouse somewhere. But this building was one that Sterling could put all of his security measures into. He knew for a fact exactly how safe it was. And if any tried to invade or eavesdrop, they would have a lot of surprises coming their way. Besides, if there had been any planned raid of any of his offices, their contacts within every law enforcement group in the state would have said something. If anyone in any position of authority even suspected them of wrongdoing and launched the smallest investigation, the Evans would be informed of it before the task force had even finished brewing their coffee.


    Even beyond that, they would have been safe. Here, in this room at the center of the building, they were cocooned away from any possible interruption or spying. No electronic device, Touched-Tech or otherwise, could get through the security measures. The room was meant to host large meetings of his normal board of direction directors. Which meant it was also plenty large enough for this situation.


    Sterling stood at the head of the table in the center of the room, his chair slightly behind him. His wife, Elena, sat at his right side. His son, Simon, was to the left. Exchanging looks with both of them, Sterling cleared his throat. ¡°Well, I think it¡¯s about time we start this discussion.¡±


    Down the table on the right, a pale man with dark-blond hair and incredibly dark green eyes shifted in his seat. Kent Jackson, better known among this particular group under the moniker of Rook, raised one hand. ¡°I know this is only the first official one of these I¡¯ve attended in person since coming back to Detroit, but I remember we used to have these incredible little cakes at the old ones, and I¡¯ve got to say, I was looking forward to that.¡±


    With a soft, polite chuckle, Elena assured him, ¡°We still have those, but we moved them to the end of the meeting. I find that it helps people pay more attention, and gives everyone some reason not to drone on longer than necessary.¡±


    Beside Kent, his wife, Mills, patted him on the shoulder. The tall, beautiful blonde woman, who looked like a fashion model or movie star but had actually spent more time in dive bars and dirty, smoke-filled clubs than on runways, spoke with clear amusement. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve made his day. You should¡¯ve seen his puppy dog sad eyes when we came in and those cakes weren¡¯t out here.¡±


    Across the table from them and slightly further down, the man known as Alcazar took a sip of the water glass in front of him. As usual, the man looked completely ordinary in as many ways as possible. He was thin, but not to the point of distraction, stood just under five foot eight when he wasn¡¯t slouched in a chair as he was now, and his brown hair and hazel eyes would do nothing to draw attention. He held his wire frame glasses in one hand, absently cleaning them with his shirt as he spoke. ¡°There is a lot to get into today, so maybe we should start with the easiest thing.¡± His head turned to look at Sterling while he added, ¡°The new superheroes in town.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Beside him, a gray-haired woman wearing dark jeans and a red button-up shirt that was tucked in added, ¡°The dears have an actual name now, don¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Relapse,¡± Elena confirmed with a nod to the woman. ¡°They call themselves Avant-Guard. Guard with a u. I think it¡¯s cute.¡±


    Opposite Relapse and a bit down from Mills and Kent, a dark-skinned man drummed on the table with one hand thoughtfully, his voice quiet. ¡°I like this Paintball kid. He¡¯s funny. The whole being Lucent¡¯s son joke, that¡¯s some good stuff.¡± Abruptly, he tapped twice more a bit more firmly, before turning toward Sterling. He wasn¡¯t looking that way. His sightless eyes would have made that impossible. But Hakeem Harris, known throughout the Ministry as The Tapping Man for his tendency to always¡­ well, tap things, knew that people were more comfortable if you were facing them as you spoke. Pointless as it might have been. ¡°But like him or not, is he going to be a problem?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the voice from the figure at the opposite end of the table from Sterling put in, speaking loud enough to be heard by everyone else given the space between them, ¡°that¡¯s what we wanna know too.¡±


    The voice came from a raccoon, dressed in a tiny, yet perfectly tailored suit. He stood on the table itself, with his polished shoes clicking against its surface as he took a few steps forward while sipping from the miniature cup of coffee he held in one paw, while a miniature cane tapped against the table lightly a couple times. ¡°You said he knows something about us, so does that make him a threat? And by threat, I mean one we need to take care of.¡±


    ¡°Ministers Gray,¡± Sterling began, ¡°you have a point, the boy does know something about the Ministry. We¡¯re not precisely certain how much, yet he is certainly aware of our organization to some extent. But no, we don¡¯t think he¡¯s a threat.¡±


    Rather than respond to that himself, the raccoon made a noise in the back of his throat before turning to step off the side of the table. As he did so, a cloud of smoke and light encompassed his form, with a pyramid-shape in the center of it. As the light and smoke faded, a much larger form had taken his place. An enormous brown bear, nearly nine feet in height, towered over the others as he stood by the table. Like the raccoon, the bear was fully dressed in a tailored, multi-thousand dollar three-piece suit. He even wore a fancy derby hat. ¡°Ah, I believe my partner wanted to know if ahh¡­ if you¡¯re certain about that,¡± he began in a voice that was slightly more nervous and uncertain than the confident tone of the raccoon. ¡°After all, the ahhh, the strongest building can collapse thanks to a small flaw.¡±


    Some might have questioned why a shape-shifting bear/raccoon was part of the leadership of the Ministry. But, of course, it was more complicated than that. First, they were not a shapeshifter. Ministers Gray had been two separate animals when they both touched one another and the orb. Its power had bonded them together in a very particular way. Essentially, they possessed a private pocket dimension which one of them always had to be inside of, while the other remained in the outside world. They could swap back and forth at will. Beyond that, as well as the usual increase from animal intelligence to human-level, they had also gained the ability to speak properly (not always a given with TONIs) and the outside animal could create a small glowing pyramid. Any single living being who was touched by the pyramid would be sent into that pocket dimension with the inside animal. Only one being could be held like that, as any attempt to take a second one inside would eject the first.


    And yet, their power was far more impressive than a simple ability to imprison a single living being indefinitely. Within the pocket dimension, the bear or raccoon could control the flow of time to equal that of the outside world, or cause it to pass much more quickly inside than it did outside. This allowed those inside to experience days and weeks within seconds or minutes for the outside world. Regardless of how time passed, those inside would never grow any older. And as long as another living being was inside the pocket dimension, the Ministers Gray could absorb any academic knowledge or physical skill that being possessed. They had taken a small army worth of brilliant academic scholars, elite soldiers, athletes, and more into the pocket dimension for what amounted to months at a time in order to absorb everything they knew and could do, before having those peoples¡¯ memories of the event erased by Rook.


    More than that, Ministers Gray could also take others into their pocket dimension and teach those other skills much faster than they should have been able to learn them, given the time-dilation that was possible.


    In all, there was a reason why Sterling and Elena had chosen to accept them as one (well, two) of the main leaders of the Ministry, even giving them the title of Minister themselves.


    ¡°He¡¯s a child,¡± Elena replied. ¡°One who wants to do the right thing, but still a child. We think¡­ we believe he knows there is a larger conspiracy of sorts, but is willing to¡­ play nice. He has some experience with the Banners girl, saving her from¡­¡± She looked toward Rook. ¡°Well, saving her. She made a deal to, ahh, leave our organization alone as long as we do the same for her and Paintball. We believe he is aware enough of that deal.¡±


    ¡°In other words, let the boy be a superhero,¡± Sterling put in. ¡°It¡¯s good business. People like this Paintball kid, and his new partner, Alloy? They¡¯re doing some great work out there. We keep an eye on them, just in case, but personally, I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll be that much of a problem. Relapse, you¡¯ve had some interaction with him, what do you think?¡±


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s a sweetheart,¡± the woman agreed with a smile. ¡°Came right into the Seraphs and did the work he was asked to without even grumbling about it. And he enjoyed my candy.¡±


    The words made Elena give the older woman a sharp look. ¡°Tell us you didn¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Pish posh, calm yourself,¡± Relapse tutted. ¡°I am capable of simply giving people I like candy without using my¨Cahem, power.¡± The woman¡¯s own gift, as somewhat implied by her name, allowed her to force any person she made physical contact with to be addicted to any edible or potable substance she chose. The addiction could last only a few minutes, or longer than a month, and a subject failing to feed that addiction would experience severe illness and hallucinations. They were also strongly encouraged to follow her instructions, given how easily she could magnify or lessen the effect. She would never be one to run around in tights and armor, considering she had Touched when she was fifty years old and that itself had been twenty years ago. But for a seventy-year-old, she still had her own tricks.


    And, as one of the Seraph¡¯s most popular and beloved receptionists, Tricia had plenty of contacts who knew nothing of her loyalties or powers. It made her a valuable asset to the Ministry, as she had been from the very start. People tended to underestimate her.


    ¡°Of course you are,¡± Sterling interjected with an easy smile. ¡°In any case, it¡¯s good to hear the boy has his own real work ethic. And that he doesn¡¯t seem to be a problem. So we¡¯ll leave it there for now. We have the Banners girl¡¯s reasoning for leaving them both alone for the time being, but even without that, I don¡¯t believe he is an immediate concern. If he starts asking the wrong questions or pushing too much at the wrong thing, we¡¯ll deal with it then. Besides, with everything going on in the city, I don¡¯t think we can afford to be pushing more Star-Touched away at the moment.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of what¡¯s going on in the city,¡± Kent started, not wanting to spend any more time talking about how he¡¯d let the Banners girl get away from him, ¡°we need to inform the gang leaders to keep their business away from our shipment coming in on Tuesday.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right, the shipment can¡¯t be delayed. Not a second time,¡± Hakeem noted while giving the table another soft tap. It would send out an echolocation-like pulse which gave the man a visual representation of the room and everyone in it. But more than that, the more times the ostensibly blind man ¡®echolocated¡¯ a person within the same general area and situation without an extended (roughly an hour) break, the better his minor precognition power worked to allow him to predict their physical movements in any altercation. Given enough taps, he could flawlessly know precisely how someone was going to move and how to counter them. Not that the man expected an altercation with his companions, of course. It was simply a deeply ingrained habit.


    Mills waved her fingers back and forth idly while speaking up. ¡°Don¡¯t worry so much. We¡¯ll bring the shipment in and get it squared away. It won¡¯t be a problem.¡± As she spoke, a glowing white feather flew back and forth across the table. Her own Touched gift allowed her to empower one pound worth of material every week. Anything that was empowered remained that way forever, allowing it to be telekinetically manipulated by Mills within her line of sight, as well as allowing her to teleport to anywhere one of those empowered objects was, or vice versa. Additionally, regardless of their actual size, empowered objects were incredibly durable and could be made to weigh almost nothing, their actual weight, or the sum total weight of every empowered object she possessed. With a thought, she could put something that weighed as much as a pencil on top of someone¡¯s head and then make it weigh several hundred pounds.


    Then there was the last part of her power. Which she idly demonstrated in an attempt to alleviate her own boredom by sending one of her feathers across the room to touch the three hundred pound desk in a corner of the room. As the feather brushed the side of it, the desk rose several feet in the air and spun in a slow circle. Any of her empowered objects were capable of extending her telekinetic abilities into any other object they touched, so long as that object, again, weighed less than the total weight of all of her empowered objects put together. And considering Mills, or Haven as she was called in these meetings, had had her power for most of the past two decades, her weight limit would have approached a thousand pounds even in a normal situation.


    And yet, her situation was far from normal. In the early days of the Ministry, her power and her skills had received a bit of a jumpstart as she spent week after week inside the Ministers Gray¡¯s pocket dimension, while only hours and then days passed outside. It allowed the woman to go from only being able to control a single pound worth of material, to over twenty pounds, in what had been only a few days rather than half a year. These days, with additional time spent with her raccoon and bear friend whenever they could all spare it, she was up to almost three thousand pounds.


    She had a lot of random objects spread not only all over the city, but all over the world.


    ¡°Very well,¡± Elena agreed. ¡°Let¡¯s discuss how precisely we will handle this shipment next.


    ¡°And we should open the phone line so Yellowbrick may be included. I believe she should be finished with her last assignment by now.¡±


    *******


    The Morning After The Raid On The Ministry Base


    ¡°Thank you, Yellowbrick,¡± Elena politely spoke while stepping through a door leading out of her subordinate¡¯s void-dimension, and into the front lobby of a small, rundown doctor¡¯s office. There were already several of the Ministry¡¯s people poking around the corners, looking through the various observation rooms, and even breaking down a few of the walls in search of hidden safes. They paid no attention to her, as they were taught to. Not that they would have recognized the woman she was posing as under her illusion power anyway, but still. She preferred the people who worked for them be taught to ignore as much about them as possible.


    ¡°How many?¡± she asked the man who had just stepped up beside her.


    ¡°Three, we believe,¡± Alcazar replied. ¡°This is the last one where the security sensors were tripped. Either they got better at avoiding them after that, or¡­¡±


    ¡°Or they found what they were looking for,¡± Elena finished for him. ¡°And all three belonged to Benjamin Pittman?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct, ma¡¯am,¡± he confirmed, glancing up as a couple men walked past carrying some equipment that would allow them to see through walls. ¡°We believe the entire point of the original intrusion was to search for that list of facilities owned by Pittman when he was active. Armed with that list, they began to search them.¡±


    ¡°Until they found this place, and whatever they were looking for inside.¡± Elena frowned slightly, considering that as a wave of thoughts passed through her mind. ¡°Either they weren¡¯t working for Pittman directly, or he forgot where he put the thing they needed.¡±


    ¡°My guess,¡± Sterling put in while stepping up on the other side of her, ¡°is that whoever these people are, they¡¯re working for his other partners or investors. People he told enough about his project that they wanted to find something involved in it, but not enough to know specifics. Something we missed.¡±


    ¡°But why wait this long?¡± Alcazar asked with a frown. ¡°It¡¯s been, what, over five years since Pittman was arrested and put on Breakwater? What changed?¡±


    Before Sterling could pose any guesses for that, one of the men called out from a supply closet. When the three of them moved that way, he stepped aside so they could see how the carpet was ripped away to reveal a trapdoor.


    ¡°Alcazar,¡± Elena began, ¡°do our files indicate which of our employees was tasked with searching and clearing this space five years ago?¡±


    ¡°They do,¡± he confirmed.


    Her voice was flat. ¡°They¡¯re fired.¡±


    ¡°The ahh, gold package, silver package, or¡­ bronze package, ma¡¯am?¡± Alcazar carefully asked.


    Studying the trap door, Elena exchanged a brief glance with her husband before answering. ¡°We certainly aren¡¯t setting them up for a rich life. Not gold. But I don¡¯t believe they deserve to be killed for a mistake, either.¡±


    ¡°The silver package then,¡± Sterling agreed. ¡°Get Rook to erase their memories and set them up with new lives.¡± Another glance passed between husband and wife before he added, ¡°Somewhere out of the city. We don¡¯t need them here.¡±


    ¡°After,¡± Elena put in, ¡°you ensure that missing this wasn¡¯t intentional. I want a full investigation into their lives. If there¡¯s any sign that they were involved in this¡­ bring the information to us.¡±


    With that established, the three descended the ladder to reach the large room below. A brief investigation later revealed the contents of the various freezers along the walls, as well as the presence of yet another, smaller hidden room at the far end. A room with a different metal tube inside, which had clearly been holding something. Another body, perhaps.


    Sterling put his hand close to the tube, eyes narrowing. ¡°This is it. This is what they did all that for. Whatever was in this tube. A prototype for one of his creations?¡±


    ¡°A dangerous weapon of some sort, whatever it is,¡± Elena agreed. Her gaze remained fixed on the tube, imagining what might have been kept inside. One of Pittman¡¯s artificial bodies, certainly. They had dealt with enough of them already. Yet something about this seemed different. This was a hidden room inside of a hidden room, one that had been receiving power this whole time. From what they could tell given a brief examination of the thing, it had been active until very recently. Actively keeping its contents¡­ well, alive probably wasn¡¯t the right word. Unless it was. Well, yes, in fact. Even if the, for lack of a better word, brain of these creatures came from the installed cybernetic orbs, the bodies themselves were biological.


    Either way, she shook off the thought. What mattered was why this one in particular had been so special.


    ¡°Maybe it was his,¡± Sterling mused. ¡°Maybe it took Pittman this long to set up something like this to get his own new body back and transferred himself into it. Or¨CI don¡¯t know how his tech works. Could he have uploaded his brain and sent it into this body?¡±


    The thought was enough to make Elena grimace. ¡°If he did, he will start making a nuisance of himself very soon. Whatever was in here, we need to find it. And the people who did his bidding. But yes, I believe it¡¯s safe to say that Pittman is behind this, at some level. Whether it is in a current, active fashion, or this is the result of someone picking up the pieces of his old work¡­. we need to find out.¡±


    Turning from Elena to Alcazar, Sterling ordered, ¡°Have our people find out what¡¯s happening on Breakwater. Do they know where Pittman is? What¡¯s been going on over there lately? Just¡­ see if anything is out of the ordinary.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the strongest contacts in Breakwater, getting any information will take a little while,¡± the other man carefully replied.


    Elena gave a slight nod. ¡°We know you¡¯ll do your best, Alcazar, thank you.¡± With that, she turned to her husband, gaze passing over the other equipment throughout the room. ¡°Pittman being the source of that raid explains quite a lot. At least we know we don¡¯t have some brand new threat to keep track of. Just an old one with some new help.¡±


    Sterling, meanwhile, raised a hand to press against the machine. ¡°Have our people look into exactly what was in this thing. Or¡­ who. We need to know whether this was Pittman or someone else.


    ¡°And what face they¡¯re wearing now.¡±

 Enkindle 23-13

    Well, needless to say, that caused a bit of an uproar through the group. Everyone else was blurting questions at the two La Casa Touched in what turned into a confused mess that was completely impossible to decipher. Meanwhile, my eyes kept flicking between Broadway and Pack as my mouth opened and shut several times in a helpless attempt to somehow telepathically understand what the hell the girl was talking about. Neither method, shouting questions over one another or silently standing there attempting a mind probe, actually accomplished anything, of course. I was pretty sure the only thing we managed to do was slow down getting an actual explanation.


    Finally, I whistled to make everyone stop talking over one another. They all turned to look at me while I held my hands up and let the silence hold for a moment. Once I was certain that I had everyone¡¯s attention and no one was going to start blurting questions over each other again, I lowered my hands and focused on the two La Casa Touched. ¡°Okay, would you mind explaining exactly what you¡¯re talking about? What do you mean, you think your brother is responsible for these zombie¡­ things?¡±


    It still felt weird to say ¡®zombie¡¯ out loud and be entirely serious, but there wasn¡¯t a better word for them. And considering everything else about the world, maybe it was dumb for me to feel weird about that. Honestly, what was so utterly inconceivable about a power that could puppet dead bodies, or whatever was actually going on? Was it just the concept of a¡­ a dead body being used like that? Was that what my brain refused to accept?


    Before Broadway could respond, Pack spoke up first. ¡°We should probably start from the beginning. I mean, she should. But I get the feeling this place isn¡¯t the best for a good, probably long, private conversation. You know, right out here in the open.¡± She turned, pointing. ¡°There¡¯s a rooftop greenhouse over there, three buildings east. We can be out of sight, and really talk.¡±


    Before I could say anything to that, Paige stepped closer and focused on the girl, her eyes clearly narrowing behind that red visor. ¡°Is that really why you want to go over there? You just want to have a private conversation without anyone waiting for us?¡± The suspicion in her voice was palpable.


    ¡°Dude, I have no idea who you even are.¡± That was Broadway, gesturing. ¡°We came to talk to Paintball. So if you don¡¯t want to go have that talk, feel free to stay here.¡± She looked back to me then, waving both arms. ¡°Since when is your group so big anyway? I thought you were a solo act. Well, you know, solo plus your partner. Dynamic Duo. Point is, I thought you were more of a Batman and Robin thing, not a whole team situation. Though, come to think of it, he¡¯s always had a lot bigger group than he pretended to have anyway. For a loner, his assortment of partners and sidekicks is basically a small army. I am vengeance, I am the night, I fight my eternal war against crime alone. Aside from Alfred, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing, Batgirl, Oracle, Spoiler, Red Hood, Blue Bird, Signal, Huntress sometimes, Catwoman, Batwing, Batwoman, Commissioner Gordon¡­¡±


    I could tell that both Paige and Sierra were about to respond to that, and would probably end up making this whole situation spiral quickly out of control. I couldn¡¯t blame them for being suspicious, of course. Not with everything that was going on, and their entire¡­ everything. Still, I quickly stepped in, clearing my throat. ¡°Ahem, Broadway, Pack, this is Poise and that¡¯s Style. You should know Alloy, of course. Over there we have Calvin and Hobbes. And, of course¨C¡±


    ¡°Hi! I¡¯m Wr¨CTrevithick!¡± Wren chirped, flying in closer so she could study them more intently. ¡°That¡¯s cool armor, Miss Broadway. Do you know who made it? Can I talk to them? Is¨C¡±


    ¡°I ahh, I¡¯ll see if Blackjack wants to share that info,¡± Broadway put in, a little awkwardly. ¡°Look, it¡¯s great to meet you and all, really. Can¡¯t wait for us to have a real ¡®get to know you¡¯ fight scene. But this whole brother making zombies thing really is important. If you don¡¯t want to help, or if you think we¡¯re just screwing with you, we can just go¨C¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly put in. Without looking at the others, I gestured towards the roof Pack had indicated. ¡°Go ahead, we¡¯ll be right over. Just give us a second to talk, alright? I promise, we¡¯ll be there in a minute.¡± I was focusing on Pack rather than Broadway, silently urging her to give us time to talk the whole thing through instead of pushing this confrontation.


    Thankfully, she gave me a very slight, almost imperceptible nod. Given her entire face was obscured by that featureless black mask, it was even harder to read that sort of motion, but I got the gist of it. Her head seemed to shift toward Sierra briefly, but I couldn¡¯t tell why. She sure didn¡¯t say anything to the other girl. Instead, she pivoted and gave a low whistle. From behind the same brick structure sticking out of the roof that Broadway had been standing behind before making her appearance, Scatters emerged in full reindeer form. She came closer, glowing proudly neon as Pack swung a leg up over her. Once the girl had mounted her pet, she focused on us. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll be over there, so don¡¯t keep us waiting too long, huh?¡±


    With that, Scatters literally leapt right from where she was standing. She didn¡¯t even take a running start, instead just jumping from right there. She landed on the next roof over, before another jump put her on the second roof, then the third. Just like that, she was by the greenhouse.


    ¡°Yeah, dudes, it¡¯s kind of important,¡± Broadway informed us, before pointing that way without actually looking. Her gaze stayed on us as I heard a low boom, before the girl vanished and reappeared over there. Right, soundwave teleportation. That was probably pretty useful.


    Turning away from that, I focused on the others before letting out a long, low breath. ¡°Well,¡± I offered while painting a smiley face across my helmet, ¡°at least it sounds like we¡¯re about to get some answers?¡± After getting that out, I shrugged. ¡°Look, I know it might seem a little suspicious and convenient, but I really don¡¯t think Pack is the sort of person to lead us into a trap like that. If this was something to do with the Ministry or anything like that, she would¡¯ve given us a signal. Besides, if the Ministry knew enough to set up a trap for us, they¡¯d know enough not to use Pack to do it.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe Pack is exactly who they¡¯d use,¡± Paige pointed out flatly. ¡°Because she¡¯s sort of part of the group, and someone you¡¯d trust. Especially if they turned her and made threats to make her lead us right where they want us.¡± She let that hang in the air for a moment before shaking her head. ¡°But no, I think you¡¯re right. It¡¯s not a trap. I just had to test her. Besides, if nothing else, if she does turn later we now have a baseline for how she reacts to being questioned.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± Murphy put in, ¡°if I haven¡¯t said it before, I¡¯m really glad you¡¯re on our side. You¡¯re kinda scary.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I pushed back the multitude of things I could¡¯ve said to that. Instead, I gave a short nod. ¡°Right, well, if nothing else, at least we¡¯re on the same page about Pack being on the level. Which means they really do think that Broadway¡¯s brother is behind this¡­¡±


    ¡°Can we go over there now?¡± Peyton put in, literally squirming on her feet. ¡°Cuz I really wanna know more about that, and we¡¯re only gonna find out by actually talking to her, you know?¡±


    ¡°Right, yeah, you¡¯ve got a point,¡± I agreed. ¡°We can stand here and speculate all day, or we can just go talk to her and get answers that way. So, everyone okay with going over there?¡±


    There was a general murmur of agreement, so we all headed over to the other roof. A minute later, we were all gathered in front of the greenhouse. I could see the other two waiting inside, and gave the rest of the group a quick look, whispering for everyone to be nice. Then I opened the door and stepped inside. It was obvious that this greenhouse wasn¡¯t exactly in regular use at the moment, given the lack of actual living plants, but it would give us a little bit of privacy so random onlookers wouldn¡¯t necessarily see a group of Star-Touched talking to Fell-Touched as though we were all friends. I had a feeling that wasn¡¯t really something I wanted to explain to the general public. The whole situation was complicated, to say the least.


    Pack, who was scratching Scatters under the chin, looked over as we came inside. ¡°You made it, are you sure you don¡¯t want to frisk us for weapons?¡±


    ¡°You have a knife right there, a sawed-off shotgun under your jacket, and some sort of taser thing in the sleeve of the jacket,¡± Sierra pointed out casually. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t take much frisking.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the other girl shot right back while pointedly stretching, ¡°but maybe I¡¯d enjoy it.¡±


    Okay yeah, it turned out there actually were still brand-new ways for me to be weirded out by the whole Sierra looking like me thing. Somehow, I resisted most of the reaction, fighting back the blush that crossed my face while thanking the fact that I had a mask and helmet covering it. Instead, I waved a hand. ¡°Before you jump too far into your weird flirting thing with someone new, can we hear the story about what¡¯s going on?¡± My gaze focused on Broadway, who was standing silently by one of the empty tables that should¡¯ve had plants on it. ¡°You were saying something about your brother. Is he part of La Casa too?¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Her gaze turned to me, staring through that high-tech helmet. The multi-colored lines bounced across the V-shaped visor over her face with each word. ¡°By which, you mean is this whole zombie thing one of Blackjack¡¯s plots, maybe something to do with fighting this war that got out of control?¡± She let that hang briefly before shaking her head. ¡°Blackjack doesn¡¯t know about it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we came to you guys,¡± Pack put in. ¡°We need help dealing with this, and we¡¯re pretty sure Blackjack¡¯s first idea would be to kill him. Especially after all the trouble he¡¯s caused.¡±


    ¡°Ehh, just hold on and let me start from the beginning,¡± Broadway quickly insisted.  She focused on us then, shifting a bit indecisively before sighing. ¡°Okay, first of all, the guy we¡¯re talking about isn¡¯t actually my biological brother. But he is. I mean, he¡¯s my foster brother. We grew up in the same family, since I was four and he was seven. Trust me, I¡¯ve known him basically my whole life. He¡¯s my brother in every way that matters, and I¡¯m not gonna let¨C¡± She stopped herself from whatever she had been about to say, making a noise deep in her throat before pushing on. ¡°He¡¯s never been the sort of person to really think things through that well.¡±


    It looked like Paige was going to say something, before Sierra nudged her and whispered something. While they were busy with that, I asked, ¡°Are you still close with him? I mean, do you still live at that house in between being a supervillain for Blackjack?¡±


    Giving me a brief look, Broadway shook her head. The lights danced across the visor once more as she replied, ¡°No. I mean I still visit, but as far as any of them know, I just emancipated myself from Carl and Lanie, our foster parents, and I¡¯ve got a minimum wage job and a shitty apartment.¡± She paused then before muttering, ¡°I hope you people realize the risk I¡¯m telling you about¨C¡± Even before she¡¯d finished that sentence, however, she was correcting herself. ¡°No, shit, sorry. I¡¯m asking for your help, it¡¯s not¨Cfuck. Look, I¡¯m not good at this sort of thing, okay? I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s no way for me to tell you what you need to know to deal with this without exposing enough for you to figure out who I am. I¡¯m sort of¨Cyou know, I¡¯m trusting you with this. And yeah, I know I¡¯m also asking for a huge favor. I¡¯m asking you to do something about my brother without killing him like Blackjack would. I get that. I just-¡± She sighed. ¡°Please keep everything you learn about me to yourselves, okay? Pack said we could trust you and I just¨Creally don¡¯t have any other choice. You¡¯re the best shot I¡¯ve got at making sure he doesn¡¯t hurt anyone else and doesn¡¯t get¡­ fuck. God damn it.¡± She sighed, putting both hands against her visor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I know stopping him is more important.¡±


    Exchanging a look with Pack, I shook my head before starting, ¡°We¡¯re here. We¡¯re listening. We¡¯re not about to go running to the authorities with your name and address. Look, if your brother is the one responsible for this, he¡¯s been killing people. He needs to be in prison. Prison, not dead. That¡¯s not¨CI mean¡­ we¡¯ll help. He¡¯s a lot more dangerous than you are. It¡¯s like Pack keeps saying, you guys steal stuff. We¡¯ll try to stop you from doing that in the middle of the act, but it¡¯s nothing compared to these zombies or whatever they are. So, you have my word. We will not give your information to anyone else and we won¡¯t use it to try to catch or expose you. If your brother is the one responsible for this, we need to stop him. Like you said, that¡¯s a hell of a lot more important than anything you¡¯ve been stealing for Blackjack. We¡¯re not gonna take what you say now and use it against you later. We just want to stop the zombies.  Please, tell us what you know.¡±


    Pack put a hand on the other girl¡¯s shoulder, leaning over to whisper something softly to her. There was a brief pause then, before Broadway murmured something back and then focused on the rest of us. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re right. I mean, of course you¡¯re right. I just freaked out for a second there. I¨Cright, starting from the beginning.¡± She took another breath and then did just that.


    ¡°My brother¡¯s name is Jason. He¡¯s always had a bit of a temper, and he¡¯s always been angry about being a foster kid. Not angry at Carl and Lanie, that is. Mad at his birth parents. And mad at society. He got in fights at school a lot, but he also stuck up for people, you know? He didn¡¯t bully people or whatever, he¡¯d get in trouble for beating up the kids that were bullying others. And sometimes he¡¯d take it too far. It was hard for him to control his temper. He didn¡¯t really have a filter either. He¡¯d say stuff you shouldn¡¯t say to a teacher. If he thought the teacher was being a jackass, he¡¯d come right out and say that. Like I said, it got him in trouble a lot, and he got expelled from a couple schools before getting sent to this private academy. I mean, they called it a private academy but it was more like a military school. Except one that you¡¯d go home at night from. They were just really strict about wearing a uniform and discipline and whatever. Anyway, it seemed like Jason did okay there. Maybe because of the discipline thing, or maybe because they didn¡¯t tolerate other kids picking on each other. Whatever, he didn¡¯t have a lot of¡­ opportunities to get in fights. Or maybe he just got better at hiding them, I dunno.¡±


    She audibly exhaled then before pushing on. ¡°About three months ago, I was visiting for dinner. I stayed until like eight o¡¯clock, then I left. But a few hours later, I realized I left my keys to my apartment. The real apartment, not the shitty one they think I have. So I went back to get them. It was late and I didn¡¯t want to explain what I was doing, so I was just gonna sneak inside the same way I used to sneak in and out when I lived there. Not like Molly and Jennica, err, my foster sisters, would¡¯ve said anything about it. They¡¯re cool. All I had to do was climb this tree outside and go across the branch.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t just telepo¨C¡± Roald started before catching himself. ¡°Oh, right, sisters.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± she confirmed with a look that way. ¡°If they were awake, I couldn¡¯t risk them seeing me just appear out of nowhere. So I had to do it the old-fashioned way. Which was kinda fun. At least, that part of it was.¡±


    Again, she went quiet for a few seconds before making herself continue. ¡°I got up the tree pretty easily. But when I was going across the branch, I heard¡­ something. It was coming from the garden area, which¨Cokay so the tree I was climbing up was in the backyard. The garden is along the right-hand wall of the house from there, just out of sight from where I was. But the sounds were like¡­ weird. So I wanted to check it out. You know, just in case it was someone trying to break in or whatever. Stupid choice on their part, right? Instead of climbing in my old window, I went across the roof and stayed low. I just sort of poked my head over the edge to look down at the garden.¡±


    Her hand opened and shut, gaze looking off into the distance while she was clearly remembering what she had seen. ¡°Jason was down there. He was digging up these little boxes. They were like eight inches long and six inches wide. There were six of them. He took them up out of the ground and he was taking these bodies out. Rat bodies, mouse bodies, squirrel bodies, that sort of thing. I couldn¡¯t really see perfectly from where I was, but they were definitely rodents. He had their bodies, their dead bodies, all laid out in the dirt in front of him. Then he touched them, and they started to move around. I mean, there was this¡­ okay so when he touched them, their bodies glowed like, red-orange for a couple seconds. Then they started to move around. They followed his fingers like he was puppeting them, and they also followed his orders. Like, he said go to the tree, and they went to the tree. He was laughing about it, like he was having fun.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Murphy put in, ¡°no offense, but that sounds really motherfucking creepy.¡±


    There was a very brief pause as Broadway seemed to be considering how to respond before she gave a short nod. ¡°No, yeah, totally. It was creepy as hell, believe me. You think it¡¯s bad right now, try being there in the moment. Anyway, I watched him for a while, but he wasn¡¯t really doing anything too bad with it. I mean, yeah, he was puppeting rotting corpses, and that¡¯s pretty screwed up. But that¡¯s it, he was just sort of playing with them right there. It was like he was testing his power. And yeah, it was obviously a power. The point is, he controlled them and he made them do stuff. Including burning sticks. He put sticks in front of them and they put their paws up against them and just melted right through. Then he like, made them disintegrate and reappear on the other side of the garden. Their bodies turned into ashes, then just came back together.¡±


    My mouth opened and shut before I managed a weak, ¡°Just like the zombies back there. Heat, disintegrating and¨CI mean we didn¡¯t see them reforming but that makes sense. It all sounds just like what we saw.¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡± Broadway replied while focusing on me. ¡°It sounds just like what¡¯s happening all over the city. Anyway, I just left him alone after that. I mean, I sort of tried to bring up the idea about how it would be to have powers a few times when we were visiting, but he never took the bait. And as far as I could tell he wasn¡¯t hurting anyone. I didn¡¯t know how to actually ask him about it, because I was pretty sure that would bring up me having powers, which I haven¡¯t exactly told any of my family about. The whole thing is just awkward. So I told myself I¡¯d just keep an eye out and see what happened. I figured he¡¯d either pick a gang or a¡­ hero team to join at some point, or maybe he¡¯d just be a mercenary. Whatever, I wasn¡¯t gonna force him into anything. And I never saw him playing with his¡­ rat corpses again. But then this started happening.¡±


    ¡°Which you didn¡¯t expect,¡± Paige put in.


    Broadway gave her a brief look. ¡°Yeah, I definitely didn¡¯t expect any of this. That¡¯s for sure. Anyway, the point is, I need you guys to look into this and stop him without¡­ you know, letting him know who tipped you off. Stealing shit is one thing, but if he¡¯s killing people, he¨CI want to know what¡¯s really going on. If someone¡¯s holding something over him to make him do this shit or¨Cor whatever.


    ¡°So please, figure out what my brother¡¯s gotten himself into and stop him. If he¡¯s being manipulated or controlled or whatever, get him out of it. If he¡¯s responsible for all this, put him in prison. You do that, and I¡¯ll owe you.¡±


    ¡°If he¡¯s really the one behind the zombies, whatever the reason, we want to stop him anyway,¡± I pointed out.


    ¡°So let¡¯s talk about how exactly we¡¯re supposed to do that.¡±

 Enkindle 23-14

    Of course, the first step toward stopping Broadway¡®s foster brother from the whole zombie thing was to find out if he actually was the person behind all of it. Granted, from what she had told us, it seemed pretty obvious. But, to be fair, it wasn¡¯t completely impossible that his power was limited to small animals or something and this was someone with a stronger version. Yeah, I knew how that sounded, but I didn¡¯t want to completely dismiss anything just yet.


    Besides, even if it was him, maybe someone else was forcing him into it or something. We really had no idea about all that beyond the fact that he apparently had this power that looked an awful lot like what we had been dealing with. I certainly wasn¡¯t going to hand him over to the authorities, and therefore the Ministry, without at least finding out more for myself about how much he was responsible for.


    So, we had to investigate. Which meant going to that house to check things out. Of course, that did leave the question of whether we were butting up against Caishen¡¯s rule about calling in help before confronting the person behind this. But we weren¡¯t planning on even physically seeing him. We were going to check it out while he wasn¡¯t there. I wanted to at least find out as much as we could before calling in the cavalry. Again, if this wasn¡¯t his fault, I didn¡¯t want to sic the Ministry on him. And we knew the moment we called in for help, the Ministry would know about it.


    According to Broadway, despite the fact that he was older than she was, he still lived with their foster parents, technically. Though apparently he had moved out to the separate standing garage, treating it like an apartment. Which at least meant that we wouldn¡¯t have to break into the house itself. Given what we had heard, that would have been fairly impossible to do without being seen by someone. There was no time when the entire place was empty, at least no time that could be counted on to be that way for longer than five minutes.


    For her part, Broadway said she would help us by inviting her brother to dinner at her cover apartment to get him out of that garage so we could get in there and look around without worrying about him finding us unexpectedly. We were just going to have to be both quick and quiet about it considering there would be people in the nearby house just a few feet away. A lot of people, given what we had heard. Apparently there were no less than nine foster kids in that place, ranging in age from about two all the way to twenty. Well, the twenty-year-old was Jason. The next eldest, still living in the house itself, was a sixteen-year-old girl named Molly.


    We also didn¡¯t have a lot of time to waste, considering how much damage the zombies had already been doing around the city. They had stopped for now, but still. At this rate, I was afraid that things would escalate completely out of control if we let it go on much longer. We had to find out if Jason was responsible for this, and stop him if he was.


    So, we were going in there the very next day. Broadway convinced her brother to go with her, and we made our way to the lumberyard just down the street from the house in question. We wouldn¡¯t all be going inside. Even with Wren being back at the shop doing her own work, having that many people trying to sneak through a garage would just be asking to end up getting caught. Instead, it would be Paige, Roald, Pack, and me. Pack was going in because Broadway was her friend and she insisted on being involved. Paige knew how to find hidden things and was pretty sneaky on her own. And as for Roald¡­ well, he was going just in case someone started to come into the garage. Murphy would be waiting on the far side of the road, visible through a window in the garage. If someone started to come in, we would all grab onto Roald while he used the teleportation tech in the suit to get us all the way out to where Murphy was instantly. Hopefully without being seen by anyone.


    ¡°You sure you¡¯re gonna be okay in there?¡± Peyton asked a bit tentatively while she watched me. ¡°If this is the right place and one of those things pops out at you guys, or breaks in while you¡¯re there and you can¡¯t get away¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why you guys are waiting right here,¡± I pointed out gently, nodding to her and Sierra. ¡°You guys and Murphy too. She¡¯ll be able to see what¡¯s going on and we¡¯ll be in contact over the phone. You¡¯re backup. If we run into trouble, the three of you can come to the rescue.¡±


    She sighed a little before giving a short nod. ¡°Yeah, I know. You¡¯re right. If something goes wrong, we¡¯ll be ready. But still, be careful, okay?¡± She had told me before that it was going to take awhile before she stopped thinking of me as a little brother or something, and I heard that same general idea in her words, and in the small smile as she made the helmet over her face shift apart so I could see it. ¡°Don¡¯t go getting yourself killed now.¡±


    Smirking despite myself, I gestured. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best. Besides, I don¡¯t think the others are all that eager to be eaten by zombies either.¡±


    ¡°Not particularly,¡± Pack agreed flatly. She stood there with her arms folded around Mars Bar, holding the iguana to her chest. Twinkletoes, in his ordinary chameleon form, perched on her shoulder. ¡°So are we gonna get in there and find out what¡¯s really going on, or just stand around out here talking about it?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, we¡¯re going,¡± I assured her before painting myself completely black. Then I pointed at Paige and did the same to her costume, followed by Roald and finally Pack herself. Once we were all thoroughly dark, Pack put her lizards back in her bag (or rather, the cage connected to the bag) and we set out. There was a narrow alley leading behind the houses from the lumberyard. On the way, I activated small bits of the black paint I¡¯d put on everyone. That was a new thing I¡¯d figured out I could do, activate just a portion of a much larger amount of paint. All I needed was to silence our footsteps on the gravel, which was pretty quiet already. Adding in just the small amount of black paint I was using and we were able to walk over all that loose gravel without making a single sound.


    That helped deal with being heard, and from there we just had to take it easy and watch for any lights on from people who might be standing on their back porches or in windows. But nothing jumped out as we carefully and quietly snuck through that alley and right up to the gate behind the house in question. It had a heavy-duty padlock on it, but a quick squirt of pink paint allowed me to pull the thing apart. Then I simply shot another bit of black paint at the hinges of the gate to make sure it wouldn¡¯t squeak while it was pushed open so the others could head through. Once they were in, I pulled the gate shut and replaced the lock, using pink paint again to ensure it was back the way it should be.


    We watched the house carefully while going in. The gate was far enough away through a wide backyard that we wouldn¡¯t easily be seen by people just passing by windows. The garage itself was straight ahead of us and slightly to the left, while the house was further away and to the right. There was a small sandbox full of toys to one side that we carefully stepped around while moving to the far side of the garage where we wouldn¡¯t be seen. Aside from that, a tall wooden fence to our left blocked vision from the house next door, and the garage itself would stop anyone in this home from spotting us. So far so good, but we weren¡¯t out of the woods yet. This whole thing could blow up in our faces pretty easily if we weren¡¯t careful.


    With that in mind, I checked the small window on this side of the garage. It was just like Broadway had described. The window didn¡¯t close completely, given how old and relatively ramshackle the place was. There was a tiny crack between the window itself and the structure of the building. Not large enough to use as a way of getting inside, but that was okay. Leaning down, I peered through the window. The garage was basically one open room with a bed and den area on one end, a sort-of pseudo-kitchen to the left near where this window was, a makeshift bathroom with a shower curtain-type pull around for some degree of privacy, and a small living ¡®room¡¯ right near the entrance. I could see all the way through it from this window, including both the big rolling door and the regular entrance. It was the latter I focused on, specifically the deadbolt.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I murmured, ¡°here goes nothing.¡±


    With that, I painted my hand and part of my arm pink. Which, with effort, I managed to shove through that narrow crack. It was a pretty disconcerting process, particularly considering I knew I had to be quick. Forcing my hand through the crack was like pushing Play-Doh through one of those rolling mill machines. It came out almost flat on the other side. But I ignored the weirdness of it, twisting my hand up and around once it was on the other side of the window so I could point toward the deadbolt on the far side of the room. A moment later, a shot of red paint sailed across the open space and hit the tiny latch perfectly. One more shot put a bit of red just to the side of it. Quickly, I yanked my hand back out before the pink paint could run out while activating the red. In turn, the bolt was pulled down, unlocking the door.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I announced while pushing myself back up, ¡°we¡¯re good.¡±


    Yes, we could have just used pink paint to make a hole in the wall big enough to go through, but that would¡¯ve been a lot to clean up without letting Jason know we¡¯d been there. We were trying to be subtle.


    Roald leaned in to stare at that before giving me a look. ¡°Seriously,¡± he asked in a whisper, ¡°how do you do that? You hit that thing in one try, from across the whole length of the garage and with your hand literally flattened and pushed through that little crack.¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡± That was Murphy speaking through the bluetooth device in my ear. We all had them right now, and were in a conference call on our phones so we could stay in contact with the others. ¡°He¡¯s got insane fucking aim and just acts like it¡¯s normal.¡±


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    ¡°He clearly has that as part of his power set,¡± Paige flatly replied. Not only were they both saying ¡®he¡¯ because Pack was here, but also because we had agreed that I would continue to be referred to as a boy while I was in costume. It would help stop anyone from screwing up and giving away my secret if they continued to be in that habit. It was probably a little confusing for them, but it was the best we could do.


    Speaking of which, maybe someday I would need to tell Pack the truth too. She was basically the only¡­ sort-of member of our little group who didn¡¯t know by now. But she also wasn¡¯t a full part of Avant-Guard. She was still a Fell-Touched, albeit falling into a sort of gray area. I told myself I didn¡¯t want to put her in the position of knowing that much about me and not telling her boss anything, but I wasn¡¯t sure how much of that was simply justifying it. The truth was that I really didn¡¯t want to think that there were even more people out there whom I couldn¡¯t control who knew my secret.


    In any case, I shrugged at them. ¡°I guess that makes sense, but I don¡¯t know why super-aim would come along with paint powers. To say nothing about the whole navigating in darkness thing.¡± When the three of them all looked at me, I waved it off. ¡°This is really not the time to get into it. I promise, we can do all the testing you want later. Come on, let¡¯s see if we can find anything.¡± With that, I walked around to the edge of the garage, peeked to make sure we still looked clear, then quickly and silently made my way to the now-unlocked door and slipped inside. The others were right behind me before I tugged the door closed.


    Right, now we were in here, hopefully without having attracted any attention so we could search the place and not deal with some cops showing up. That would end up being a bit hard to explain. Especially with Pack here. It would be a whole thing. So, better to just avoid the whole situation. Thankfully, the only windows facing the house were covered in black-out curtains. Probably because Jason didn¡¯t want snoopy foster parents or siblings to see what he was doing out here. Which worked in our favor, though we still weren¡¯t going to turn a bunch of lamps on. Instead, we all took out our phones and dialed the flashlight apps down low. Just enough to see what we were doing as we spread out to search.


    I honestly wasn¡¯t sure what we expected to find, but it could¡¯ve been anything. Trophies from the zombies he¡¯d made? Their wallets or whatever with photographs we could use to identify them? Maybe a manifesto about everything he was doing and why, or even an audio recording of him detailing his master plan? Okay, maybe those were asking for a bit much, but hey, you never knew. Maybe we would get extraordinarily lucky. It could happen.


    For my part, I went all the way to the back of the garage and started looking around the area where he slept. I carefully checked under his pillows, taking note of how they were positioned so I could put them back properly just in case, before ducking down to peer under the bed itself. The light from my phone panned over the floor down there, revealing a lot of empty fast food cartons and such, not to mention dirty magazines. Those I rather reluctantly picked up, turned over, and rifled through to see if anything fell out. Nothing, aside from a few cards to order more dirty magazines.


    ¡°Who gets those things anymore?¡± Pack demanded as she looked over from looking through one of his dressers and saw what I was holding. ¡°Hasn¡¯t he ever heard of internet porn?¡±


    ¡°The family monitors internet access,¡± Paige put in from the other side of the garage. ¡°They have child locks on most adult websites. Those are probably his way of compensating for that when¨C¡±


    ¡°Okay, can we please change the subject?¡± I hurriedly interrupted. ¡°Something tells me none of this will ever be relevant for what we¡¯re actually supposed to be doing here.¡±


    ¡°Hold on, how do you know the thing about monitoring internet access?¡± That question came from Alloy, still waiting back at the lumberyard. ¡°And the childlock.¡±


    ¡°We have wireless internet access,¡± Sierra informed her, sounding amused. ¡°She can see all the connections from there.¡±


    Pushing their conversation out of my mind, I shoved the magazines back under the bed where I had found them. In the process of arranging them where I was pretty sure they¡¯d been, I noticed something else. A small box was shoved up into the space between the wooden board of the bedframe and the box springs. Squinting that way, I reached out to tug the thing out, then turned and put my back to the bed with the box in my lap so I could examine it. The box was about eight inches long and six inches wide, along with being several inches deep. There was a clasp on the front, which had a keyhole. I set the thing down, ignoring the lock. Instead, I painted the top pink and used my fingers to pry a hole into it that way. Inside the box was a small folded stack of papers, along with what looked like a debit card that had the name Jordan Johnson on it, and a driver¡¯s license. The picture matched the one of Jason that we had been shown by Broadway before coming over here, but the name was also Jordan Johnson. Opening the folded papers, I found a birth certificate and other things identifying him as, yet again, Jordan Johnson. Frowning, I called the others over to show them what I was looking at.


    Roald shook his head. ¡°So, ahh, he¡¯s got fake identification and a debit card? Does that mean he¡¯s gonna run away or something? Is he getting ready to disappear if he gets caught?¡±


    Paige examined the ID and paperwork. ¡°This is all professional grade,¡± she remarked. ¡°It¡¯s not something he got off the street for a hundred bucks. This looks real. Someone with some actual skill, and probably access to the DMV system did this. So how does some nobody foster kid, no offense, get it? Does he just happen to know somebody that good or that well-connected? And why does he have it?¡±


    ¡°It takes a while to get something like that anyway,¡± Pack put in. ¡°Trust me, I¡¯ve had a set done myself. And if it takes Blackjack a couple weeks to get that quality of work, then I¡¯m pretty sure almost nobody else could do it faster. Maybe the Ministry themselves, just because of the connections they have, but I think we¡¯re operating under the assumption that he¡¯s not working for the Ministry?¡±


    I paused to consider that. ¡°I mean, it wouldn¡¯t really make sense if he was. We¡¯re pretty sure they¡¯re the ones who had Luciano killed. And now he¡¯s been brought back as a weird zombie thing attacking people. Plus, he was just sort of found in the alley. I don¡¯t think they would¡¯ve left him there if they did bring him back to life. What would be the point of having him kill those couple kids who happened to find him? It doesn¡¯t make any sense coming from them. I don¡¯t see any profit in it. And it sure as hell isn¡¯t making the area more stable.¡±


    Paige agreed with a nod. ¡°Right, it doesn¡¯t make sense. So I¡¯m pretty sure the fake ID had to be planned and set up awhile ago, before we started seeing these zombies. This isn¡¯t a situation where things got out of control and he just went out to pick up a fake ID to run away with at the spur of the moment. He had a professional make these. A professional who either owed him a huge favor, or one he paid a lot of money to.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Sierra¡¯s voice put in, ¡°If that fake ID stuff is really that good, it¡¯s not something this guy could just go down to the street corner and pay some random guy for.¡±


    I looked down at the papers again and flipped through them. It wasn¡¯t just a birth certificate and other identification stuff, I realized. At the end of the stack was a bit of lined paper that had been torn out of a notebook. The name ¡®N Kent St¡¯ was scrawled across the middle of the page in pen, along with a phone number. Under that, the number 9,412 was written and underlined with a smiley face next to it.


    ¡°Is that the guy who made the fake ID and the amount he paid for it?¡± Roald guessed. ¡°N Kent St. kinda sounds like a name. Or a street? It could be N Kent Saint or N Kent Street. Maybe it¡¯s an address. Nine Four One Two North Kent Street?¡±


    Of course, I immediately thought of Kent Jackson, Tomas¡¯s dad. He had memory powers. What did he have to do with this? Aloud, I murmured, ¡°There¡¯s a guy who works for the Ministry. He can¡­ erase memories. His name¡¯s Kent. But that¡¯s his first name, not his last. And there¡¯s no N involved in the name. I don¡¯t know an N Kent. And certainly not a Saint. I guess it could be him, but I¡¯ve never heard him called by that¡­ I dunno. This still doesn¡¯t sound like the Ministry. Unless Kent¡¯s been freelancing?¡± Even that didn¡¯t sound right. ¡°It could be a coincidence on the name¡­ Anyway, what would he be paying Kent for? Yeah, look up that address.¡±


    ¡°Already did,¡± Sierra informed us over the phone. ¡°There is no 9412 North Kent Street anywhere in Michigan. It¡¯s gotta be a price and name or something. The amount he paid for that new identity?¡±


    ¡°Pretty high price for this sort of thing,¡± Paige murmured. ¡°I mean, you can get a passable fake identity for about fifteen hundred bucks. If he paid over nine thousand¡­ well, it¡¯d explain the quality. And there¡¯s probably more to it. Maybe it included transportation to a new place or something. Safe passage out of the city if things fall apart and probably some sort of established place somewhere else. Unless the Ministry Kent is involved and he¡¯s being paid to adjust memories? But you¡¯re right, I dunno what the N could stand for.¡±


    ¡°Keep looking around,¡± I urged while spreading the papers, fake ID, and debit card out to take pictures of them with my phone. I wanted to keep a record of everything we found without letting Jason himself realize we knew anything about it. As soon as I had all of it in my phone, I folded the papers and stuff back up, put them in the box, then used my pink paint to fix the lid so it was basically as good as new. Finally, I put the thing back where I¡¯d found it and went to lift the mattress so I could see if there was anything there. Sure enough, I certainly found something. And it wasn¡¯t just more papers. Right there between the mattress and box springs was a nine millimeter pistol and a box of ammunition. Grimacing at the sight, I started to tell the others about it, when Roald called out for us to look at something else.


    Setting the mattress down, I moved over to where he was in the ¡®kitchen¡¯ area. Roald was holding a piece of paper he¡¯d dug out of the trash. Printed across it were the words, ¡®One or two aren¡¯t going to impress us. You want to join our club, make a real splash. I hear opening night could be a real homerun.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t signed, at least not with names. But there were two pictures where a signature would be. The picture of a number two pencil, and one of a mug. Or rather¨C


    ¡°Cup,¡± Pack snarled. ¡°Pencil and Cup.¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± I suddenly blurted, eyes widening behind my helmet. ¡°N Kent St, it¡¯s not North Kent Street, or anything to do with Kent. It¡¯s New Kent Stadium. The minor league baseball place. It was named Old Kent Park back in the nineties, then LMCU Park in 2000, back when it was in Comstock like two hundred miles from here. But last year they moved the team closer and went back to calling it Kent. Only it¡¯s New Kent Stadium instead of Old Kent Park. It¡¯s just, like, twenty miles outside the city now. Pai¨CPoise, what¡¯s the¨C¡±


    Paige was already ahead of me. ¡°The seating capacity for New Kent Stadium is nine thousand, four hundred, and twelve. And opening night is today.¡±


    ¡°Pack!¡± I snapped, turning that way. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta call Broadway and tell her¨C¡±


    ¡°Too late,¡± she informed me, holding a phone in her hand. ¡°I just got a text from her. She says Jason was going to the restroom and disappeared. She has no idea where he is.¡±


    ¡°I think we know where he¡¯s going though,¡± I found myself muttering. ¡°He wants to impress the Scions.


    ¡°And he¡¯s gonna do it by unleashing his zombies on that stadium.¡±

 Enkindle 23-15

    We had to get to that stadium before those zombies attacked all the innocent people there. But more importantly, we had to make sure other people got there. All that mattered was stopping what was about to happen. And we needed help to do that. Unfortunately, none of us were having much luck on that front. Pack had called Broadway to tell her what was going on, and though the other girl was, to put it mildly, reluctant to believe that her foster brother would be that deranged and psychotic, she did agree that something bad was going to happen. So they both tried contacting Blackjack or anyone else in La Casa. But there was some sort of attack happening right then and they couldn¡¯t get through to anyone important.


    Meanwhile, Paige made an anonymous call to both the Seraphs and the Spartans. And I, of course, called Ten Towers the way I¡¯d promised Caishen I would. I even called her personal number that she had given me. But again, it was hard to reach anyone who would listen. I even made a third call to leave a message with Lucent, only to be told that he was out in the field right then and would get back to me as soon as he could. I wasn¡¯t sure people were actually taking us as seriously as we wanted them to. Probably unhelped by the fact that we were pretty frantic and not in the mood to patiently explain.


    For my part, I did manage to get hold of That-A-Way, but she and the other Minority members, including Raindrop, were in the middle of helping the Conservators with some sort of big shootout involving Cu¨¦lebre and other members of Oscuro. It seemed like the entire city had decided to blow up at this exact moment. Well, to be fair, it had been blowing up for a while. There was a reason for the curfew intended to curtail the gang war, after all. But still, it really didn¡¯t help us right now.


    ¡°Hold on!¡± Pack shouted while sending the van she had borrowed skidding around the corner.  The rest of us would¡¯ve been thrown around wildly if it wasn¡¯t for the seatbelts we had hastily buckled. ¡°How long do we have until the game starts?!¡± She asked that while bringing the van to a brakes-squealing halt next to an alley just long enough for Broadway to jump in the front passenger seat next to her.


    Hobbes was pressed up into a corner, quickly checking her phone. ¡°Uh, right now. It¡¯s starting right now. But he won¡¯t necessarily unleash his monsters first thing, right?¡± She was clearly trying to inject a bit of hopefulness into her voice.


    Even as she said that, we nearly rear-ended a couple cars that were blocking the road ahead at a stoplight. With a blurted curse, Pack jerked the wheel to send the van up over the curb. We ran through a wooden display selling vegetables, and all of us winced at the sound of thumps along the roof as an assortment of cabbages and wood bounced along it, along with the sound of the man running the stand shouting in dismay. One particularly loud thump made me wince.


    Then, with a new set of bumps as the van dropped off another curb, we were back on the street. As soon as we went around the next corner, heading for the freeway entrance, Alloy called out to me, ¡°The stadium! We can call them, tell them to evacuate the place.¡±


    So, that was exactly what I tried next. While half-listening to Broadway and Pack having a whispered yet intense discussion, I looked up the number for the stadium and called them. Unfortunately, the person who answered didn¡¯t take me seriously. He laughed off my attempt at a ¡®prank¡¯ and when I tried to explain a bit more, hung up on me. I tried that number again and got no answer before calling the other number attached to the stadium. That time a woman answered and instead of laughing when I tried to warn her, she cursed me out and threatened to call the police. I was in the midst of yelling at her that she had to call the police when she hung up as well. This was going swimmingly. Fuck, fuck!


    ¡°Style?¡± I asked, looking toward Sierra in hope that she had had more luck.


    ¡°Called local 911 over there and told them the situation,¡± she replied, voice sounding tense. ¡°They took me about as seriously as you might expect. Told me they¡¯d ¡®send an officer over to check it out.¡¯ We¡¯ll be lucky if they do that much.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I blurted out loud. ¡°Okay, okay, we can still get there and slow this whole thing down. Way knows the gist about what¡¯s going on and she¡¯ll get people there as soon as they can get away from that whole Cuelebre thing. We¡¯ve left messages with everyone. As soon as they get a free moment, they¡¯ll check them, and send people. We¡¯ll get there. We can get there.¡± I repeated that, trying to convince myself before looking toward the front. ¡° I know asking for your help is a lot, and¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up!¡± Pack snapped. ¡°Like we¡¯re not gonna stop a bunch of monsters from slaughtering a stadium full of innocent people. That¡¯s not even a question, Paintball.¡±


    Broadway hesitated before shifting around in her seat to look at me. ¡°Besides that, I have to find out if my brother is really responsible for this. He could¡¯ve been manipulated, or that evidence could¡¯ve been planted, or¡­ I don¡¯t know. If he¡¯s not responsible for this, if it¡¯s not really his choice, I want to prove that before it¡¯s too late. But if he is¡­¡± She trailed off before squaring her shoulders. ¡°If he is then I want to stop him too.¡±


    Paige was looking straight at her, voice flat. ¡°So if it comes down to it, you¡¯ll side against him.¡±


    Broadway shot her a clearly dark glare. ¡°If it¡¯s a question of siding against him or letting him kill a bunch of innocent people, yes, I¡¯m siding against him. I¡¯m not a fucking psychopath.¡± Again, she paused before turning back to face the front once more while slumping back in her seat with a muttered, ¡°Then again, I didn¡¯t think he was either.¡±


    Oh boy could I really not blame her for that sort of reaction. It made me think back to exactly how I had felt when I found out the truth about my own brother. I thought about how it felt to be hiding under that dumpster when I heard his voice that night. No wonder she was having a hard time with this. And I definitely couldn¡¯t blame her for wanting to find out if the whole thing was a mistake or whatever. I definitely would¡¯ve preferred to learn that my family was being framed, and they at least weren¡¯t about to be responsible for intentionally slaughtering a stadium full of innocent people just to impress the fucking Scions.


    ¡°Whoever is actually responsible, we¡¯ll stop them. If it¡¯s him¡­ we¡¯ll deal with that. If he¡¯s being used somehow, we¡¯ll¡­ do something about that too,¡± I assured her as firmly as I could while looking out the window as Pack sent the van hurling as fast as possible through the streets. I didn¡¯t even care if we ended up attracting the police at that point, because they could help. We needed someone to pay attention.


    Of course, because I actually wanted the cops to pay attention to us, there were none to be found anywhere. Apparently the entire fucking department was also busy with other things just like every Star-Touched we tried to call, because the streets were practically empty. Which did help us get to the freeway even faster, but still.


    Alloy looked up from her (disposable pay-as-you go) phone then, muttering a curse. ¡°I tried that number Glitch gave us, but they¡¯re not answering either.¡±


    ¡°They will, someone will,¡± I mumbled, bouncing a little in my seat anxiously. ¡°Someone will check their messages, or Way will get out of that fight and send someone. We¡¯ll have some help. They¡¯ll be there. Someone¡¯ll be there.¡± Yes, I was trying to convince myself, and no it wasn¡¯t working very well.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Calvin started, ¡°Maybe you could try Tweeting about it? You know, use the hashtags for the team and the stadium and say there¡¯s an emergency and everyone needs to get out of there right now.¡±


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    ¡°If the tweets even gain any traction, they could start a panic,¡± Paige pointed out carefully. ¡°Everyone stampeding for the exit at the same time wouldn¡¯t help, especially when no one¡¯s there to help.¡±


    ¡°If those zombies attack, there¡¯ll be a panic anyway,¡± I replied. But she wasn¡¯t wrong. Alerting people to get out of there wouldn¡¯t help if they all freaked out and hurt each other in a desperate attempt to escape. It would be like hearing a gunshot or shouting bomb in a crowded theater. People would be trampled. But what were we supposed to do, in that case? Roald was right, it was a chance to maybe get the people in the stadium to see our warning. We couldn¡¯t just ignore that. Yet I was frozen for a moment between the fear of what would happen if we sent a warning and people were killed in the ensuing panic, or if we didn¡¯t send a warning and people died because we didn¡¯t get to the stadium fast enough.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Paige spoke up, getting my attention. ¡°If he¡¯s monitoring social media around the stadium and the game¨C¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I realized, ¡°if he¡¯s paying attention, and he probably is, he¡¯ll see any warning we send long before it spreads to the rest of the people. He¡¯ll know we¡¯re onto him and start the attack immediately.¡± Pausing, I amended, ¡°Or whoever is behind this.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s doing it,¡± Broadway muttered. ¡°I just don¡¯t know if he¡¯s responsible for it. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s really choosing this, or if they¡¯re manipulating him.¡± Her voice made it clear which she was hoping for. ¡°And you¡¯re right. If you put out a general warning, he¡¯ll see.¡±


    So, painful as it was, I couldn¡¯t send that warning. It was one thing to contact the authorities, or try to tell the people in charge of the stadium to start an evacuation immediately, but hoping that a public message will get through to the crowd at all, let alone be listened to, before he noticed it and acted? No. No, we had to at least get there first. Please, damn it, let us get there before he started the attack.


    Instead, I swallowed hard before focusing on Calvin. ¡°Watch Twitter stuff around the stadium, or any news, or anything. Just¡­ just tell us if there¡¯s an emergency, or if anyone starts talking about monsters. Or¨Cyou know.¡±


    For his part, the boy met my gaze before giving a short nod. ¡°I¡¯ll watch for it,¡± he murmured, voice catching slightly before he looked down at his phone once more.


    Right, so at least we had someone to tell us if we ended up being too late. Clenching my hand tightly, I looked back to the front, my voice tense. ¡°Pack, I hate to be the little kid in the back of the car during a road trip, but are we there yet?¡± I was trying to simultaneously lighten the mood a little bit while also pressing the urgency. Not that she really needed to be reminded. I knew that. I just felt helpless, sitting here in the van hoping those things weren¡¯t already attacking people. With every second that passed, I kept expecting Calvin to abruptly blurt out that it was too late.


    ¡°Doing my best,¡± the girl informed me while her hands clutched the steering wheel tightly. She clearly had the pedal all the way to the floor as we were sent practically flying down the freeway while weaving in and out of traffic. There hadn¡¯t been many other cars in the city itself, given the whole curfew situation. But there were people driving out of the city. So we kept running into pockets of traffic. Not that that stopped Pack. She just drove around them, even going up onto the shoulders without a second thought. Again, if our insane driving attracted cops, good.


    But it didn¡¯t. We weren¡¯t really attracting much attention at all, come to think of it. A few people honked, but not nearly as much as I might¡¯ve thought. We were, for the most part, entirely ignored. Maybe with the gang war going on, everyone was afraid to pay too much attention to a van acting this erratic. But hey, with any luck, maybe they were calling the cops. I didn¡¯t care if we had to lead a procession of a dozen police cars and a helicopter all the way there for refusing to pull over. Wait, scratch not caring, I hoped that happened.


    Unfortunately, we still seemed to be experiencing some sort of weird situation where nobody was paying attention to us. Aside from those relatively few honks as we cut around people, we didn¡¯t have any problems. Including no cops showing up. Probably because they would¡¯ve been helpful, and we couldn¡¯t have that, could we?


    Rocking back-and-forth in my seat while silently urging the van to go faster didn¡¯t help. Fortunately, putting my hands against the side and painting the thing green did actually contribute. And given we were being ignored by the other cars, it was even more helpful. Soon, the van was practically flying along the side of the freeway, zooming past everyone else as though they were standing still.


    ¡°Once we get there, you guys get into the stadium and start evacuating people,¡± Pack was saying while keeping her hands tight on the wheel. ¡°They won¡¯t listen to Broadway and me, and seeing us with you will just complicate things. So we¡¯ll go look for Jason.¡°


    Broadway was nodding. ¡°Whether it¡¯s just him or somebody else has him, they¡¯ll be somewhere that they can watch what happens. I just¨C¡± she stopped, clearly considering her next words before speaking a little more clearly. ¡°I just hope we can find him before anything¡­ before he does something we can¡¯t stop.¡±


    Her words made me swallow hard. Yeah, I definitely knew how she was feeling. Well, at least to an extent. I really had no idea how I would feel if my brother was out there trying to impress the Scions. But still, the whole thing made me sympathize with her. She was a villain, sure, but just like so many other situations I had found myself in since getting my powers since that night, the whole thing wasn¡¯t that cut and dry. She was worried about her brother, yet still willing to stop him if he really was this far gone. It just¡­ maybe it made me think about what I would do if I was face to face with my own brother and he was about to do something like this.


    I would stop him, that was for sure. If he was trying to kill this many people¨Cif he was trying to kill any innocent people, I would stop him. I just¡­ had no idea where we would go from that point.  Which, I was pretty sure, was exactly what Broadway was thinking about. Would she reveal her identity to him in order to make him stop? Would that even work? I supposed it depended on how far gone he really was, and on whether this was all actually his choice or not.


    All I really knew in that moment was that I was glad I wasn¡¯t her. I had enough family issues to deal with.


    Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I spoke up. ¡°The second we go in there and start to tell people to get the hell out, he¡¯s going to unleash his monsters.¡±


    Paige nodded once from where she was sitting. ¡°But at least we¡¯ll be in there to get their attention.¡±


    ¡°And then what?¡± Murphy demanded. ¡°What are we supposed to do? I dunno if you were paying attention before, but we could barely handle one of them, and this sounds like he¡¯s planning to unleash more than that.¡±


    ¡°We focus on making exits and safe paths for people to get out,¡± I put in. ¡°I know it¡¯s not gonna be easy, and they¡¯ll still panic. But at least when we¡¯re right there, we can help. Alloy, I want you to use your marbles to make platforms and shields and stuff to get people out of the way. Maybe even just pick them up and carry them out of there whenever you can.¡±


    She started to protest that she needed to help with the zombies, but I cut her off. ¡°You¡¯ve got the best chance of protecting and shielding people. Focus on that, okay? Once there¡¯s enough people out that the rest of them can run without trampling each other, you can jump in and help us. But we really need to protect everyone in that stadium. We need you to do that.¡±


    She hesitated before giving a short nod. ¡°Just be careful, okay?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna do our best,¡± I replied with a somewhat shaky thumbs up. I was terrified about what was about to happen. Murphy was right, we had barely been able to do anything to one zombie at a time. How bad was this going to go when there was a whole group of them right in front of a bunch of panicking civilians? This could be horrific. But what else were we supposed to do? We didn¡¯t have any better options. We¡¯d already tried to contact everyone else who could help and they were either busy or weren¡¯t listening. Just while we were sitting there discussing all this, I had left six messages on the emergency system of the Doephone app, and I still had no idea how long it would take someone with authority to pay attention. There was no one else. We had to get in there and do this ourselves. And hope that we could get lucky with Broadway talking her brother down.


    With that in mind, I turned to Pack. ¡°Maybe if he¡¯s unconscious, it¡¯ll stop the zombies. So if he doesn¡¯t listen as soon as you guys get to him¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied, ¡°he¡¯s going to turn them off, one way or another.¡± To Broadway, she started to add, ¡°Sorry¨C¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the other girl interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re right. If he doesn¡¯t listen and call it off as soon as we get to him, just¡­ knock him out. Yeah, he¡¯s my brother, but I¡¯m not letting him get away with this.¡±


    Finally, even as she said that, we were pulling into the rather full parking lot of the stadium. Pack drove past all the other cars, straight up to the sidewalk ramp leading to the ticket stand and entrance before bringing the van to a screeching halt. The doors flew open and we all hopped out. I pivoted to tell everyone something about getting inside, when I simply stopped short. There was a figure crouched on the roof of the van, where she had clearly been through most of the ride.


    ¡°Hey there,¡± Grandstand greeted me with a wave. ¡°So, we gonna go be heroes or what?¡±

 Enkindle 23-16

    Needless to say, we were all a bit surprised to find Grandstand suddenly standing in front of us. Or, more to the point, crouched on top of the van. Giving a double-take while the others reacted around me, I found myself blurting, ¡°You¡¯re the reason the cops never tried to pull us over!¡± Wait, she had been crouched on the roof the entire time we had been driving up here, at those speeds? What the hell was this chick doing? Why would she have been following us like that? Why was she here at all?


    Under her Zorro-like bandana mask, the woman smiled faintly while hopping down to land on the pavement next to the van. ¡°Worked that out quick, didn¡¯t you? You¡¯re welcome. Now, like I said, are we gonna go in there and be heroes, or what?¡±


    Poise, stepping slightly in front of me, spoke up sharply. ¡°What are you doing here? Last I checked, you and Cu¨¦lebre were on the outs, but I don¡¯t think that means you suddenly decided to switch sides out of the goodness of your heart.¡±


    ¡°Better question,¡± Pack abruptly put in while holding that shotgun of hers. She hadn¡¯t gone as far as to point it at her, but the point was made. ¡°Why were you following us close enough to find out what we¡¯re doing?¡±


    ¡°My business is personal,¡± the woman shot back. ¡°But, just to ease this along since I¡¯m pretty sure we don¡¯t have time for a lot of arguments, let¡¯s just say I wasn¡¯t following you. Or, well, I was only following you recently. I¡¯ve been tracking down the guy you¡¯re after right now. You know, the one responsible for those zombie attacks, like the one that¡¯s about to happen right in there. I need to talk to him. He has information about the guy I¡¯m really looking for. I¡¯ll help you stop him, then I get to talk to him until he tells me what I need.¡±


    While the rest of us were absorbing that, Broadway stared at the woman, voice dark and clearly suspicious. ¡°What exactly do you want to talk to him about?¡±


    ¡°Relax, it¡¯s not about your secret identity,¡± Grandstand retorted while visibly rolling her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m gonna be really honest here and say I very seriously couldn¡¯t care less about that. This is a hell of a lot more important. And yeah, I know, my old gang and your gang aren¡¯t exactly friends right now. Big whoop. I¡¯m here for bigger fish. Like the kid over there said, I¡¯m not at the top of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s best friends list at the moment, so picking a fight with some kids over your secret identities or whatever isn¡¯t even on the first ten pages of my to-do list. My real friend, a close friend, was murdered. And the guy in there knows something about who did it.¡±


    Broadway made a noise before starting with, ¡°If you think¨C¡±


    ¡°Relax, Soundwave,¡± Grandstand interrupted, ¡°It wasn¡¯t him, so I¡¯m not out for revenge. If I was, none of you would¡¯ve ever known I was here. He¡¯s not the guy who killed my friend, but he¡¯s got information I need about who it really was. Now that¡¯s all I¡¯m gonna say about it. I figured since I caught a ride with you guys, and I only know where he is thanks to you, I owe you some sort of explanation. But that¡¯s enough. I¡¯m going in there to find him before he takes off again. If you all want help making sure a bunch of innocent people don¡¯t die, you¡¯ll get over yourselves and come along.¡± With that, she started to move to the entrance.


    Calvin¡¯s head shook while our whole group looked at one another uncertainly, the boy hesitating before managing a confused, ¡°What¡¯re we supposed to do? She¡¯s a bad guy, right?¡±


    I shrugged, with a glance toward Pack and Broadway. ¡°Not like she¡¯ll be the first villain we¡¯re working with. And she¡¯s right, people in there are going to get hurt or die the longer we stand out here and debate about it.¡± A funny feeling ran down my spine, but I shook it off and turned to run toward the stadium. On the way, I fumbled with my phone and used the redial to call Caishen yet again. I left another message to say that we were there and that we needed help. What else was I supposed to do? Yes, she had told us not to go after whoever was responsible for the zombies alone, but we couldn¡¯t just let this happen without trying to stop it. We weren¡¯t hiding the fact that we¡¯d found him. We¡¯d called everyone we possibly could. They were all busy. The only option besides going in there was to just let it happen. And I didn¡¯t care if she got mad at us or not, I wasn¡¯t going to do that. Dangerous or not, we weren¡¯t just going to let a bunch of people die. If it turned out she thought we should¡­ well, then the Michigan heroes were a lot worse than I thought.


    There was, of course, one more thing I could do. Slowing my run, I turned toward Paige and lowered my voice. ¡°Call the Ministry as yourself real quick. Tell them Paintball called you and told you what was going on, and asked you to tell them they need to do something. They know that I know something about them anyway, and that you have their number. But can you do it without them tracking your phone as coming from right here?¡±


    Paige, absorbing that, gave a short nod. ¡°I¡¯ll forward the call from another phone back in the city.¡± With that, she set to work doing just that, while I started running once more. Maybe it was dumb to call in the Ministry and ask them for help, but I was seriously desperate. They wanted to keep crime under control, and something told me Jason hadn¡¯t received their permission to do this.


    ¡°Glad to see it didn¡¯t take long for you to come to your senses,¡± Grandstand informed me as we approached the gate. Unsurprisingly, the man who was standing there looked a little surprised at the sight of what was coming toward him. He was staring at all of us, but mostly at the woman beside me. I saw his hand move to the radio on his belt, only to stop short as his eyes abruptly shifted toward me, hand dropping away from the belt as though he¡¯d never reached for it to begin with. ¡°Hey, sorry, costume night¡¯s not til next week. I don¡¯t know who screwed that up, but hey, you all look pretty g¨Choly shit what the fuck?!¡± That last bit came as he caught sight of Holiday and Mars Bar, who were already partway shifted into their large forms.


    Oh, and he paid absolutely no attention to Grandstand as the woman simply walked right past him. Obviously, she had used her power. On the other hand, she did pause to wait for us, while making an impatient ¡®hurry up¡¯ gesture with her hand. Whether it was because she genuinely wanted to help, or because she thought she had a better chance of finding this Jason guy with Broadway and Pack, I wasn¡¯t sure. A voice whispered in the back of my ear that it might be less about thinking Broadway could help find him, and more about thinking she could use Broadway as a hostage against him if he found out she was his sister.


    Then again, would he even care about that? Could someone who was trying to show off for the Scions give a shit about his sister being in danger? I had no idea. But then again, I couldn¡¯t even fathom having a brother who would try to show off for the Scions in the first place. Yeah, my brother had clearly killed people, but there was a pretty vast gulf between that and auditioning to hang out with Pencil, Cup, and their gang.


    Ignoring the gate guide for just a moment, I turned to the two La Casa Touched. ¡°You guys go find him. Have Riddles let us know if you track him down. We¡¯ll get everyone out of here. Just¡­ be careful.¡± With that, I turned back to the guy, who looked even more confused. He¡¯d grabbed his radio from his belt again and was fumbling with it. As it fell from his hand, I shot red paint at it and at that hand, making it jump back into his grip as he made a noise of surprise.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I quickly put in, ¡°the zombie-monsters over in Detroit, you heard about them? The guy who¡¯s been controlling them is here. As in he¡¯s in this stadium, not just the city. He¡¯s gonna attack this place any minute. You need to start evacuating people right now.¡± As his eyes widened in shock about what I was saying, I grabbed his wrist and shoved the radio up to his ear. ¡°Call it in! Open every gate, every door. Let everyone out, right now! Set off the fire alarms, whatever you need to do, just get everyone to move!¡±


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    That was all I could take the time to say. Leaving the man stammering in confusion, I ran past him and into the entrance area of the stadium. The others were right behind me. Grandstand gave me an evaluating look briefly before nodding as she pivoted to run toward an area labeled for employees. On the way, she called back, ¡°Your pal¡®s gonna want to have a good view of the stadium and privacy! Probably upstairs somewhere!¡±


    Broadway and Pack were right behind her, along with the assortment of lizards, who were growing by the moment. I barely paid any attention to that, however. My focus was on several guards who were jogging up from around the other corner. As they approached and tried to tell us we had to leave and that this whole thing wasn¡¯t funny, I snapped a hand up to shoot green paint over the rest of our little group. Seeing me actually do that brought the guards up short as they realized this either wasn¡¯t a costumed prank, or it was a really good one.


    ¡°Zombie bad guy from Detroit¡¯s attacking this place, you gotta get everyone out!¡± I blurted while already activating the green paint to run past them. ¡°You guys get down to the field and help people get to the exits! Watch for zombies!¡± I called over my shoulder just as we reached the top row of bleachers. The people there, watching the game below, jerked in surprise at the sight of me. Though most, again, didn¡¯t realize I was the real thing. Not yet, anyway. But they would pretty soon.


    Stopping short, my gaze scanned the field, then the bleachers, then up into the higher areas. Nothing untoward. The place seemed completely normal. If we were wrong about this, if he¡¯d changed his mind and we were sounding the alarm for no reason¨Cno. We definitely couldn¡¯t take that risk. Even if we ended up looking paranoid and stupid, it didn¡¯t matter.


    To the people around me, who were staring in even more confusion about whether this was some sort of presentation, I added, ¡°Unless you guys wanna be trampled, you need to get out right now. Run! Get the hell out of the stadium! It¡¯s not a game, it¡¯s an attack, so go! Just spread the word and get the fuck out of here right now!¡± With that, I pointed my hand toward the announcers booth. It was above the bleachers by the first base line, while we were above home plate. A line of red paint went flying from my hand, making the nearby audience gasp as they realized I wasn¡¯t a fake. That gasp became a cry of surprise that spread throughout the audience as I triggered the paint and launched myself over their heads, across all those bleachers, and all the way to the raised booth.


    ¡°Korey Rikers, the second baseman, coming to¨Cwhat the fuck?!¡± That was the announcer himself, his shock broadcast all over the stadium and over the radio as I hit the window next to him. I could see the skinny guy with his big droopy mustache holding a hotdog in one hand, which slowly fell to the desk, dripping ketchup and mustard over the keyboard sitting there as he stared at me wide eyed. The man turned to a guy next to him and half-covered the mic while hissing a question about whether this was some sort of promotional stunt. Despite the covered mic, his words were still picked up and broadcast, and I could see more people looking up to where I was and pointing. If I¡¯d wanted everyone¡¯s attention, I was sure getting it. Now I just had to do something useful with that.


    To that end, before the stunned announcer could recover, I planted my knees against that window (staying in place thanks to the gravity defying boots), painted a bit of the glass pink, and punched through it. As the man gave another curse of surprise, I apologized before grabbing the mic from his hands. ¡°Everyone get out of the stadium right now!¡± I blurted into it while squeezing the button so my voice was projected. ¡°There¡¯s a bad guy who wants to hurt everyone here, you need to get out of your seats and get to the parking lot! And then keep going! Just get out of here! Find an exit and get out!¡± Yes, it wasn¡¯t perfect. There was a good chance we would cause a panic. But what choice did we have? We needed to get everyone out as fast as possible. The second Jason saw us or realized people were starting to leave, he would unleash his monsters. There was no time to be subtle about it. Besides, we could watch for anyone being trampled or suffocated. We¨Cwe had to do it this way.


    Okay, the truth was, maybe someone more experienced would¡¯ve had a better idea of how to do this. Maybe there were twenty different better ways. But I had to do something right then. I didn¡¯t have time to stop and think about it.


    At least people were listening. The group who had been close enough to hear me tell them what was about to happen before I painted my way up here had already cleared out and were running out the same way we had come in. Which left an opening for others below them in the stands to pick themselves up and start running. Meanwhile, the guards had actually listened and spread the word. I could see other entrances being hauled open, the people there shouting for more of the audience to get out those ways.


    The rest of the team were busy getting everyone moving. Calvin and Hobbes were helping by using the teleportation power. Hobbes was all the way over on the far side of the field where there was a gate that was usually only opened to allow cars to drive onto the field. It was open now, thanks to one of the guards there. With Murphy by the gate, Calvin got everyone he could in the lower stands to grab onto him, and teleported them over there. Then Murphy started to run. They were splitting up how much work they each had to do by taking turns with which one of them ran to collect people and which one stood by the gate to catch their breath.


    Meanwhile, Poise and Style were in the middle of the stands, on opposite sides of the stadium, directing everyone about which way to go. The two of them were making sure no single exit was overwhelmed with people. And anyone who tried to shove their way through quickly found themselves grabbed and pulled out of the way so others could get past. Sierra and Paige seemed to be everywhere at once, slipping through the crowd easily to find the potential troublemakers before anything bad could happen.


    Then there was Alloy. She was above the crowd, hovering in her armor. Apparently she¡¯d started to get the hang of using just that to keep herself in the air without a board under her feet. That or she felt like she needed every other marble she possibly had for other things. Either way, those other marbles were turned into various walls and ramps to lead the audience one way or another. Whenever one exit area started to get too full, she noticed from her elevated position and used one of her marbles to block that way off, directing people down a lesser-occupied route.


    Spotting a group of players mixed with employees and some of the audience being pushed to one side out onto the field, I used a mix of blue and red paint to throw myself that way. ¡°Hey, coming through!¡± I called out to announce my arrival before landing near the group. Quickly, as they looked at me and started to blurt questions, I painted a pink door onto the nearby wall, before lashing out with a purple-powered foot to kick through it. I had to kick a couple times, but I finally knocked out enough of the pink door shape to reveal the open, weed-filled lot behind the field. ¡°Go!¡± I blurted. ¡°Run and keep running. Just trust me, go!¡± Even as I said that, my gaze snapped around the field and up into the stands. There were still a lot of people, but the place was getting emptier by the moment. We were actually doing this. We were going to get these people¨C


    And then it happened. A loud, terrifying shriek filled the air, as a man appeared on top of the announcer¡¯s booth where I had just been. And not just any man. A clearly dead one. The top third of his head was gone, leaving some of his brain visible. His arms were twisted around the wrong way, and he forced them back into position with a series of audible snaps, while all of us stood there and watched in horror. Then, he tilted his head back and gave a terrible howl that was half-banshee and half-wolf. It echoed around the field, before being answered by another howl. Then another one. And another.


    They were everywhere. Two of them burst out of the restroom up behind the third base stands. Another one came crawling out from under the outfield fence. The visiting team dugout had one that came through the locker room area, chasing two people who had been going out that way. More were in the stands. We¡¯d gotten some of the people out before Jason reacted, but not nearly enough. And now these monsters were here. Not just one or two. There had to be a dozen of the things, at least.


    This sick piece of shit wanted to put on a show for the Scions, and he was going to do it by slaughtering as many innocent people in this place as he could. Unless we stopped him. But we had barely been able to handle one of these things before with all of us working together. What the hell were we supposed to do about twelve of them all spread out, and with a bunch of civilians in the way?


    Whatever it was, we were going to have to figure it out soon. Because, with another chorus of horrifying howls, the zombies attacked.

 Enkindle 23-17

    The nearest zombie, a heavyset woman with a big hole in her stomach, lunged at one of the baseball players who was struggling to reach the hole in the fence I¡¯d made. Before she could reach him, I activated orange angelic wings on my back for protection while using a blue puddle to launch myself that way. Inverting in the air, I slammed both feet into her shoulders. The impact was barely enough to make her stagger slightly, and felt like I had crashed into a brick wall. Still, it made her stop chasing that guy so he could escape. Rebounding off her, I flipped in the air and landed in a crouch, shooting a bit of red paint at her knee. At the same time, I hit a nearby folding chair one of the security guards had been using with another shot. She came charging my way that time and grabbed for me with her arms, just as I let the chair fly into her legs. It crumpled under the impact, and immediately melted partway, but still managed to knock her off her feet.


    Now the panic was really setting in. There was screaming from all around me as people bolted for the exits and tried to climb over each other to reach them. I launched myself upward with blue paint once more while giving a sharp whistle. To my relief, Alloy was actually paying attention and one of her marbles came up under me, shifting into a platform for me to land on. My hands pointed straight down, hitting the bit under my feet with red paint before I glanced to where she was hovering and made a quick motion with one hand as I threw myself off it and pointed toward the female zombie. A new stream of red paint hit the woman in the head and shoulders.


    Once again, Peyton understood. The platform flipped over so the bit I had painted was faced down, just as I activated the paint. The woman was yanked upward, slamming full force into that platform. Which transformed into a hand to close around her before she could fall, quickly spinning around several times before opening to send the zombie woman flying off to crash into the outfield, as far from people as we could manage.


    Meanwhile, I had dropped back to the ground just in time for one of the other zombie creatures to throw itself off the stands to crash down toward me. Seeing it coming from the corner of my eye, I activated green, purple, and orange stars along my sides while throwing myself sideways, just as the thing landed right where I had been. Shoving myself up before it could recover, I caught its wrist and yanked hard, ignoring the heat that I could feel even through the orange protection. With the added strength and speed boost, I managed to spin with the zombie and hurl it headlong into the nearest wall before the thing could recover. It wouldn¡¯t stop the monster, of course. But this wasn¡¯t about stopping them, it was about slowing them down long enough for all their potential victims to get out of this place safely.


    Speaking of which, I saw a group of people running for one of the exits. They were about to trample right over a couple older women who were struggling to move that way on walkers. Before anything terrible could happen, I used a pair of purple thumbs up symbols on my chest for strength, while painting both of my arms (sleeves and actual body alike) pink. With a grunt, I heaved as hard as my enhanced strength could manage. Between that and the pink stretchy power, my arms extended a good fifteen feet (getting narrower along the way, like taffy being stretched out), just far enough for me to catch hold of the two elderly women. A quick shot of orange from both hands ensured I wouldn¡¯t break anything in them as I yanked the pair away from the stampeding group just in time.


    The two women were still trying to figure out what had just happened, as they looked at my stretched-out arms and yelped in surprise.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± I called out while using my hands to yank them up to their feet. ¡°But you really need to go now!¡± With those words, I snapped my right, extended arm sideways like a whip, using a bit of orange on my own back for protection just as my fist collided with the jaw of a zombie who had been clambering that way. It barely made an impact on the thing, but it still looked surprised that I had punched it from a distance.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I called out while my arms shlurped back to their normal length, ¡°I¡¯ve got some tricks, you wanna see another one?¡± As the zombie howled and came charging at me, I shot a quick line of pink paint along the ground. It stomped right through that line, and thus through the painted ground itself as I activated it. Like stomping into wet cement. Soon, it was buried up to its waist in the ground, and let out a horrible scream before slamming its fists down. Just as the thing did that, I deactivated the pink paint. Since I stopped it early, the paint became incredibly bouncy at the exact moment that the monster¡¯s fists slammed into it. The ground instantly indented a good three feet under the force of that blow, and the zombie had an almost cartoonish look of surprise and confusion just before the ground snapped back into place, launching that monster far into the sky. It was like he¡¯d been shot out of a cannon.


    Knowing that still wouldn¡¯t get rid of the damn thing permanently, I glanced around quickly. To one side, I saw a guy on the ground with his arms up, trying to shield himself from a zombie who was lunging at him. Meanwhile, to the other side, there was a small group of children who were being shielded by a different man as he faced down another charging zombie. Without taking the time to even think about it, I activated a couple spots of green to speed myself up, while snapping my arms out to either side. A shot of red paint went from one hand to the guy who was cowering on the ground before I just as quickly adjusted my aim to hit a spot at my feet and activated both. He was immediately yanked away from the lunging monster just before it would have grabbed him, and pulled over to crash into the grass next to me with a yelp. At the same time, I shot a blue square onto the ground directly in front of the man who was protecting those kids. As that zombie ran over the square, he was launched upwards. Before he could come down again, Alloy turned one of her marbles into a large baseball bat and slammed it into him to knock the zombie out of the way.


    Throughout that, I caught glimpses of the others. Poise and Style were getting people to the nearest exits, and stopping any fights before they really got started. They moved deftly through the crowd, ducking and weaving like it was all some perfectly choreographed dance as they made sure no one ran into any zombies. Calvin and Hobbes, meanwhile, were still taking turns with the teleporter powers to get people closer to the exits.


    Then I saw something¡­ weird that couldn¡¯t be right. For just a second, up near the far back area behind the third base bleachers, I thought I saw a¡­ bear. A large, heavy-set and furry bear. But that wasn¡¯t all. This bear was wearing a suit. I could¡¯ve sworn it was there, just in the corner of my eye as I was scanning. But as the sight registered in my brain and my eyes snapped back to that spot, there was nothing there.


    Oookay, this whole situation was making me a little nuts, that was for sure.


    Pushing that aside, I spun back toward the elderly women who were still trying to reach the exit. ¡°Hi,¡± I greeted them quickly. ¡°Sorry, I know this is probably gonna suck for any vertigo and nausea, but I promise I won¡¯t let you get hurt.¡± With that said, I renewed the orange paint I¡¯d given them before. Then I quickly caught hold of the first woman before using purple circles on my arms and blue stars on the bottom of my shoes so I could pick her up and launch myself all the way up and over the fence. She gave a loud cry of surprise, just as we came down on the other side.


    ¡°Sorry, sorry!¡± I blurted before quickly launching myself back the other way. A moment later, I returned with her friend. They were both now out on the field. ¡°The parking lot¡¯s that way!¡± I called out, pointing them in the right direction. From there, I went right back into the stadium. There were still a lot more people to get out of there.


    As I landed back in the field, Alloy whistled for my attention and pointed toward a few people in the upper stands who were struggling to stay away from one of the zombies as it barged right through the bleachers toward them. She already had a couple of her marbles working together to lift another group over the fence, while two more appeared in front of me to create a narrow set of stairs with a platform at the top. Immediately, I ran up them and launched myself off with a bit of blue on my shoes to reach the upper deck just behind the rampaging zombie there. He was about three rows from the trapped group, who looked like they were seriously considering just jumping off the edge and taking their chances with the fall.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    So, that was exactly what I told them to do. Spraying all six people there with the line of orange, I activated it while shouting, ¡°Jump! I swear, you¡¯ll be fine! Just jump right now, the paint will protect you!¡±


    In response to my voice, the zombie spun toward me and howled once more while lashing out with one hand. I managed to throw myself backward out of the way to avoid it, while the group I¡¯d hit with that paint followed my instructions. Some were more eager than others, but all of them threw themselves over the side of the railing and dropped down to safety below. Relative safety, anyway. I had to hope that they would keep running once they were down there. But for now, I had my own problems. Namely, I was out of paint for the moment. I¡¯d felt it coming, but had been too distracted to pay much attention. I¡¯d used all my paint and what I already had on myself. Now I had to wait for it to recharge while this zombie was coming after me. Quickly, I shoved myself to my feet and popped the wheels out of my shoes so I could pivot away from him and skate out of the way. I heard him stumbling after me, burning his way through those metal bleachers. Apparently I had pissed him off. But hey, at least he wasn¡¯t following those innocent people over the railing. I was pretty sure he could survive that fall too.


    Well, not survive, per se. Continue being animated? Whatever, I was glad he was chasing me instead of them.


    At least, that was what I told myself as I frantically hopped onto one of the bleachers and skated along it while glancing over my shoulder to see the zombie rapidly catching up. I still had to wait even longer to get my paint back, so I pushed myself to move faster, skating along those metal bleachers before one of Alloy¡¯s marbles flew past me. It transformed into a short ramp leading up to the wall of one of the fancy luxury suites where people like my family would watch the game in the equivalent of a hotel room. Like the place where my dad had taken us to watch the races.


    Immediately, I skated up the ramp, before allowing the gravity-boots to keep me rooted to the wall so I could skate all the way up it to the roof. That didn¡¯t require my paint, at least. And from the sound of things, it made the zombie chasing me pretty mad.


    Right, from here I had a decent view of what was going on. Most of the stadium had been emptied by now. That was the good news. The bad news was that there were still a dozen zombies, and our group was rapidly becoming their focus. Both because of the shrinking number of other targets, and because we had pissed them off. Or pissed off the guy who was controlling them. I still wasn¡¯t sure exactly how that worked and how much autonomy they had. Either way, the point remained the same. Lots of dangerous monsters were focused on coming after us in particular now that we had spoiled their¡­ fun. And there was still no sign that the others had managed to track Jason down yet.


    Just as I was taking all that in, a shout from below caught my attention. Calvin was there, looking right up at me while raising one of those high-tech Wren rifles that he¡¯d had over his shoulder. In the next instant, I heard something behind me and spun just in time to see the zombie who had been chasing me coalescing out of a cloud of ashes. Right, they could teleport. Fortunately, even as that thought, accompanied by a jolt of shock, was filling my mind, a bolt of energy from Calvin¡¯s rifle struck the zombie and sent him flying backward off the roof with a howl.


    ¡°Thanks!¡± I called out while throwing myself off the roof. There was another zombie below me, but I managed to land several feet past it, coming down on the bleachers once more before letting my momentum carry me along on my wheels while the zombie swiped at me uselessly. Fuck, fuck, paint, please! I needed more paint right¨C From the corner of my eye, I saw one of the monsters down by the visiting team dugout. There was a ballboy there, huddled in the corner behind a rack of baseball bats, while the zombie stalked toward him. It seemed to be savoring the boy¡¯s terror.


    No, no, no! A rush of panic filled me as I stuck my hand out that way, my mind a mix of silent cursing and prayer. Please, please have been long enough, please just¨Cthere! Red paint appeared and shot from my hand, hitting the space just above the dugout. With a thought, I put orange on myself while letting the red yank me that way. Just as the zombie was reaching out toward the last bit of equipment keeping him from the cowering ballboy, I slammed into him feet-first. The impact knocked the zombie back several steps with a confused grunt. Before it could recover, I reached out, caught hold of the boy¡¯s wrist, and yanked him up with a little help from a purple fist on my shoulder. ¡°Kudos on the loyalty,¡± I blurted, ¡°but I don¡¯t think anyone would blame you for leaving the game right now!¡± With that, I used blue paint on my shoes to launch both of us away from the dugout just as the zombie was recovering. In midair, another bit of red yanked us toward the exit that Calvin and Hobbes were trying to keep clear with multiple shots from their rifles to knock back any zombies who approached. Landing a bit awkwardly and almost falling over in the process with the boy (he was only a couple inches shorter than me), I gave him a little push toward the open gate. ¡°Make like you¡¯re trying to steal home for the World Series win!¡±


    He ran for it, and I spun back to put myself between Calvin and Hobbes while they continued aiming and shooting at any zombie who tried to approach. The problem was that the shots might have knocked the things back a few steps, or even a good ten feet on a solid hit, but they weren¡¯t actually stopping them. They just kept coming. ¡°What about the thing Trevithick did to lift that one guy up?!¡± I called out while activating a couple green handprints I still had on the back of their costumes so they could shoot faster.


    ¡°We could do that!¡± Calvin agreed while taking aim to shoot at one of the zombies who was trying to run at us from up on the bleachers.


    ¡°But we¡¯d only be able to hold one of them at a time!¡± Hobbes added, taking a knee so she could shoot at another one coming up on the other side. ¡°Two if we both did it! Then the rest could do whatever they wanted!¡±


    Thinking quickly, I replied, ¡°Time it! One of you lift them up, then let them go just as the other shoots. If you hit them when they¡¯re off the ground, they¡¯ll probably fly further. They won¡¯t be able to brace themselves or anything! And, wait, can you move them while they¡¯re caught?!¡±


    Murphy realized what I was getting at immediately. I could hear the smile in her voice. ¡°Damn straight! Ro¨CCalvin, get ready!¡± With that, she flicked a switch on the rifle she was using, before taking aim as one of the zombies came charging toward us once more. A blast of energy erupted from the gun, wrapping itself around the animated corpse before lifting the thing off the ground. From there, she gave a hard yank on the gun, hauling it around as the energy line dragged the zombie like a tether until it was right in front of another running zombie. ¡°And¡­ fire!¡± Even as she called that out, the girl took her finger off the trigger to release the energy tether.


    At the same time, Calvin pulled his own trigger. The blast of energy from his gun shot out, slamming into the dangling zombie before it could finish falling. It was sent soaring backward, slamming into the one coming up from behind it so both of them went crashing into the dirt a good twenty feet back.


    As those two set to work using their newfound joint tactic, my eyes were already snapping around the field, searching for any more problems. Okay, well, they didn¡¯t have to look far to see problems. There were still a bunch of zombies running around. But I was looking for the worst, most immediate ones. Something that had to be taken care of right now. At the same time, I was inwardly cursing the fact that there was still no sign of Riddles. What was taking so long for them to find this guy?!


    Even as that thought filled my head, I saw it. Or rather, her. Riddles flew up into view from one of the covered areas in the upper stands, where the concession stands were. As soon as she came into view, I blurted, ¡°Fuck, finally!¡± To the others, I shouted, ¡°Keep getting people out, I¡¯ve gotta go help them!¡±


    With that, I launched myself up that way, using red paint to land in the stands. Riddles flew down and circled me with a shriek, and I gave a quick nod. ¡°You got it, buddy! Let¡¯s go!¡±


    Before moving, however, I turned back to check the others. Alloy was working with Poise and Style, the three of them keeping a ramp that Peyton had created clear so more people could run up and over it to cross the fence. Seeing me looking that way, Poise waved a hand wildly. ¡°Go! Get that son of a bitch, we¡¯ve got this!¡±


    Right, they had it. They could deal with this. I just¡­ Shoving my insecurities down, I turned back to see Riddles passing through an open door leading into the staff area. I had to do this. The others could handle getting the rest of the people out. What mattered now was finding Pack, Broadway, and Grandstand¡­ and helping them deal with this guy before his monsters killed anyone else. With that thought in mind, I painted green lightning stripes on my legs for speed, and ran straight for the open door.


    Whatever came next, it was time to end this.

 Interlude 23A - Broadway

    As she left the Star-Touched people, who would hopefully make sure her brother¡¯s monsters didn¡¯t kill anyone, KD Rafferty sprinted toward the door labeled for employees of the ballpark. Pack and her lizards were right next to her, a reassuring presence. Unlike the woman ahead of them. Why was Grandstand here? She said she only wanted to talk to Jason about finding someone else, but KD didn¡¯t completely trust her. Yes, she didn¡¯t have to present herself to them, and she certainly didn¡¯t have to make it easier for them to reach the ballpark. She¡¯d obviously heard enough while eavesdropping to know where they were heading, and could¡¯ve gone ahead of them. But still, KD didn¡¯t know exactly what the woman was up to, and when it came to her family, that made her anxious.


    Then again, she didn¡¯t know what Jason was up to either. Could he really be trying to get himself into the Scions? That didn¡¯t sound like him, at all. But was she just viewing him through rose-tinted glasses? She hadn¡¯t spent that much time with him for awhile now. Maybe he really had changed that much. Or maybe he¡¯d always been like that. She didn¡¯t want to believe it, but she had seen way too many stories about people having no idea that their sibling, or son, or neighbor was an evil piece of shit to say that it was impossible. And, well, given the company she tended to keep, she had some first-hand experience when it came to seeing evil pieces of shit.


    Whatever, the best way to find out the truth was to get to Jason and make him tell them. If he really had gone this far, if he was willing to attack a stadium full of people, she was done holding back. She hadn¡¯t wanted to expose her identity to him. But if that was what it took to really get through to her brother and get answers, then she would do that. She¡¯d gotten into the whole criminal thing to make money and have some fun. To say nothing of attacking what she saw as an unjust, entirely corrupt system that benefited only the rich. But she sure as hell didn¡¯t want to kill innocent people. This whole thing was going entirely too far. Whatever it took, whatever she had to do, she would get through to him. She would stop him from hurting anyone else, even if that meant revealing her true identity and pleading with him to stop. He would listen to her then, right? There was no way he would be that far gone.


    With those troubled thoughts filling her mind, the girl reached the base of the cement stairs leading up to a higher walkway where the staff offices and whatnot were. Grandstand was almost all the way up them, but KD pointed past her while triggering a burst of sound from her gauntlet. With a thought, her body transformed and traveled along those soundwaves, reappearing instantly at the top of the stairs. To KD, it felt a lot like surfing a very unstable wave. A wave that was going out in every direction. She just sort of forced herself to go one way along it. The act of teleporting that way had made her feel sick and woozy afterward for awhile, until she grew accustomed to it. Even now, however, traveling too far that way could leave her feeling wobbly.


    ¡°Oh sure!¡± Pack called from below. ¡°She¡¯s got super speed and you can teleport, just let me walk!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t walk!¡± KD called back. ¡°Keep running!¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Grandstand idly added, ¡°I only have as much speed as there are people to make ignore me. And since I¡¯m trying to stay with you two, that doesn¡¯t really leave a lot to work with.¡±


    Even as she said that, a couple people poked their heads out of a doorway down the hall, one calling, ¡°Hey, what¡¯s going on down there?!¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Grandstand announced, ¡°That¡¯ll do.¡± And with that, she took off running faster than she had been moving before, even as the two people shifted their gazes away from her entirely, having forgotten her existence.


    Which left those two people staring at the La Casa Touched, quickly realizing that this wasn¡¯t some sort of game. The man fumbled, yanking his phone from his pocket. ¡°I¨CI¨CI¡¯ll call the cops!¡± he blurted in a voice that shook a bit too much, KD thought. For fuck¡¯s sake, they weren¡¯t monsters. It wasn¡¯t like La Casa went around killing people willy nilly at the slightest provocation.


    Eh, then again, most people probably didn¡¯t have a lot of interaction with Fell-Touched. Certainly not enough to really get into the differences between different groups. As far as this guy was concerned, they were all just villains. So, she pushed that thought aside and simply started running again while calling out, ¡°Please do, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got the address! The heroes downstairs probably need the help!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not kidding,¡± Pack added while running along behind her, ¡°they really do need help down there, and you should probably all evacuate as fast as you can. Good luck!¡± Her own words were echoed by a series of yips and growls from the menagerie of lizard-animals trailing behind in a ridiculous parade. They seemed to be expressing much of the same general point.


    ¡°Okay,¡± KD announced as they ran together, ¡°he¡¯s obviously not in that room. So what do we do, just check all the rest of them one at a time?¡±


    In response, Grandstand pivoted and lashed out with her foot. As she did so, KD felt her attention suddenly riveted to the woman. She really was beautiful, and pretty damn cool all things consi¨Cfuck! The woman released her power just as her foot managed to kick in the door, having obviously pulled not only KD¡¯s attention, but that of Pack and all her lizards too, giving herself enough of a strength boost to knock the door off its hinges.


    ¡°Would you warn us before you do that?!¡± Dani blurted. ¡°It¡¯s disorienting!¡±


    In response, Grandstand simply turned away from the open doorway. ¡°Not in there. And just consider this a blanket warning ahead of time, I¡¯m going to keep using my power to kick these doors in, because we don¡¯t have time to be polite. Unless you¡¯ve forgotten that this place is about to be crawling with a bunch of evil fire zombies, or you don¡¯t want to find this guy before he manages to get a bunch of innocent people killed by the aforementioned evil fire zombies.¡±


    Before either of them could respond to that, they heard Paintball¡¯s voice over the game announcement system, loudly calling for everyone to evacuate. Which was a good reminder of just how little time they probably had at this point if they were going to make sure Jason didn¡¯t kill anyone.


    Dani and KD looked at one another briefly, their eyes meeting (despite the fact that one of them was wearing a featureless black mask and the other had a visor over her face) before they both turned back to the other woman and spoke as one. ¡°Use your power all you want.¡±


    So, Grandstand did just that. Together, the three of them ran down the hall, kicking doors in and telling anyone they saw that they should get the hell out of the building. Granted, most of the people they were warning thought that that the trio were robbing the place or something, but whatever got the point across. As long as they got out of there, that was all that really mattered.


    And yet, there was still no sign of Jason. KD had taken to asking everyone if they saw if there was someone who fit his description, a tall, lanky guy with long dirty blond hair and a tattoo of a rose on his neck. Or anyone wearing a mask or otherwise looking shifty. Which ended up getting the girl an awful lot of strange looks, given the circumstances.


    Whatever, she didn¡¯t care. All that mattered was finding him before he did something he could never take back. She¡¯d even be fine with him going to prison for what he¡¯d done so far, as long as they could stop him from doing something even worse. She desperately wanted to stop her brother from being sent to Breakwater, if that was at all possible. Unleashing a horde of monster zombies on a minor league baseball game? That wasn¡¯t something the authorities would overlook. It wasn¡¯t just having fun, messing with people, stealing from the rich, it wasn¡¯t any of that.


    It was terrorizing, and possibly murdering, innocent people. If he really was that far gone, if he wanted to join the Scions and murder people like that, then¡­ then KD would push him into Breakwater herself. Even as a part of her still clung to the idea that this was all a misunderstanding, or he was being used somehow, or¡­ or any number of increasingly desperate and unlikely explanations, she had already firmly told herself that fact in a small, quiet part of her brain. If Jason was responsible for this, he had to be stopped. And he had to be put away.


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    And yet, there was still no sign of him. They reached the end of the private office area, and had found little more than a dozen or so now-terrified employees, who were hopefully evacuating while flooding the emergency network so the authorities might actually do something. Through a doorway at the end of that hall, there was another stairwell leading back down, or a walkway that would take them across to an area where the private executive boxes for the rich fans sat.


    A mixture of staff and those rich fans were milling about in the corridor, talking loudly to one another about what was going on down on the field and why Paintball was here. Before Broadway and the others could do anything, or even be noticed, someone screamed from inside one of the rooms. The cry was echoed by another, and soon more people were streaming out from the private boxes while shouting about monsters and zombies. So, apparently Jason¡®s little friends had made their entrance. At least they didn¡¯t look stupid for trying to evacuate people now.


    The crowd turned to run right to the stairwell, only to stop short when they saw the Fell-Touched standing there. KD could see the people putting two and two together. In this case four wasn¡¯t actually the right answer, but still. A few cried out while everyone spun to run the other way, even as she opened her mouth to blurt, ¡°Hey, no, we¡¯re not¡­¡± A groan escaped her. ¡°Oh never mind. Whatever, run that way then.¡± Under her breath, she muttered, ¡°We are so getting blamed for this.¡±


    Grandstand was already moving to the first door while casually noting, ¡°Having a reputation has its upsides and downsides.¡± She kicked the door in, glanced around, and shook her head. ¡°Fuck, this is taking too long. Can¡¯t we search this place faster? Send your little friends there, lizard girl. They could spread out and hit every room a hell of a lot more efficiently than the three of us.¡±


    Pack looked like she was about to argue, then thought better of it and shrugged before stepping aside as she sent the lizards out to check every room ahead of them. Which was¡­ well, quite a sight. Watching reptilian hybrid versions of an eagle, bear, gorilla, panther, monkey, and reindeer split up to kick in doors was pretty surreal.


    As they kept moving behind the scattered lizards, Grandstand turned to glance at Broadway. ¡°Where the hell is he? You know him, right?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea!¡± KD blurted. ¡°Obviously, I don¡¯t know very much about him after all. Not if he¡¯s the type of person who could do something like¨C¡± In mid-sentence, she was interrupted by the sudden appearance of one of the zombies. He was a heavy Latino man with dyed blond dreadlocks, and an obvious bullet hole in the middle of his head. He came slamming his way out of a door leading into what looked like a custodial supply closet, snarling as he saw them.


    Before he could do anything, Broadway pointed and sent a burst of sound that way while converting herself to follow it. Surfing that wave right past the man in her sound form, she reappeared behind him and pivoted to bring both hands up, unleashing a narrow burst of high-pitched music from her gauntlets. As soon as the sound was in the air, she caught it with her power and both magnified and narrowed the sound even more. She had used this to punch holes through concrete before. Normally, of course, she toned it down for human beings. She wasn¡¯t a killer and had no desire to permanently cripple people. But this was different. This guy was already dead. He was a corpse who just needed to be taken apart. She had no need to hold back.


    And yet, despite the fact that those twin bursts of sound would have shattered concrete blocks in front of them, they did barely anything to the zombie. He staggered slightly, before pivoting with stunning speed. His hand flashed out to smack Broadway, but before he could make contact, there was a roar from the other side. Mars Bar came in out of nowhere and slammed into the man, knocking him sideways into the wall. The lizard bear howled in pain immediately, staggering back with visible burns all over his body. Pack shouted out in dismay, before quickly ordering Twinkle Toes to back off before the lizard-gorilla could come to his friend¡¯s aid. In the same moment, she raised that shotgun and fired a beanbag around into the zombie¡¯s face. The force made his head rock backwards, but did very little else.


    Abruptly, however, the air was filled with several more gunshots. These came from the two pistols that Grandstand had produced, which she repeatedly fired while advancing that way. Each shot made the zombie¡¯s head rock backwards again, but he still wouldn¡¯t fall.


    Stopping Holiday from charging in, Pack reloaded the shotgun with a couple more shells, then took aim once more. Before she could fire, Broadway shouted, ¡°Just knock him down, he doesn¡¯t matter! He¡¯s just delaying us!¡± Even as she said that, the girl charged up her gauntlets to unleash an even louder burst of sound. ¡°Both of you hit his knees!¡±


    To her relief, the other two didn¡¯t argue. They quickly readjusted their aim, Pack calling left so they wouldn¡¯t both hit the same spot. An instant later, she unloaded the shotgun into that knee, while Grandstand hit the other with both of her pistols.


    At nearly the exact same time, as soon as she heard those shots, Broadway unleashed the sound burst from her gauntlets. The guns were much quieter than they should have been, thanks to Touched-Tech, but she still caught hold of that sound as well, just to add as much as possible to her power. This time, she didn¡¯t narrow the force nearly as much. She wasn¡¯t interested in cutting through the zombie. Instead, she kept it just about as wide as his body and magnified it as much as she could. It slammed into the already-dead figure like a freight train, just as his legs were knocked out from under him by the shots. Unable to brace himself as the blast of sound-powered force slammed into him, he was sent flying down the corridor.


    Without wasting another second, the three of them spun to the supply closet the zombie had come out of. Broadway was there first, poking her head in and looking around. There. A ladder that had clearly been pulled away from somewhere else led upward through a hole that had been burned into the ceiling.


    Either way, that was where he was. So, she looked up, pointing so she could send a burst of sound through the hole and teleport herself that way. No way was she going to wait around to use the ladder. Not when Jason was about to make the worst mistake of his life.


    Reforming herself in what turned out to be some sort of enormous attic type storage space that had to be as wide and long as the entire building¡¯s structure, she spotted the boy in question almost immediately. No, not boy. He was an adult. Older than she was, certainly, and adult enough that the authorities would have no problem sentencing him to Breakwater for this. He was on the far side of this wide open attic area (what was this for?), yet incredibly easy to spot. Because there was nothing else up here. It was just a wide open space with nothing in it. Nothing except for Jason himself. He was standing over by a narrow window that overlooked the field, staring down that way with his back to her. As soon as she had taken that in, however, he spun, and she saw his face.


    It was him. It was her brother. He had lightly tanned skin from spending a lot of time outside, was well-muscled thanks to all the yardwork he tended to do for extra cash, and had long dirty-blond hair pulled into a simple ponytail. He had no shirt on, and her attention was immediately drawn to several polished stones that seemed to be attached to the boy¡¯s skin. The largest one, a red, gleaming, almost flat ruby, sat in the middle of his chest. It was about four inches across and looked incredibly smooth. There were also two blue ones up by his shoulders that were about half the size, and a couple of equally-sized green ones on either side of his stomach, just above his hips. An amber-colored stone that was smaller than all the rest sat right over his navel. Finally, there was a black one just under his throat. All of the stones were glowing faintly.


    He also wore glasses, which he was staring at her through while pointing what turned out to be a weird-looking pistol. It wasn¡¯t an ordinary gun, that was for sure.


    ¡°I got no problem with La Casa or any of you,¡± he was saying, his voice cracking a little. ¡°But if you don¡¯t back the fuck off down that ladder, I will.¡±


    ¡°Jason,¡± KD blurted, ¡°you have to stop this!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t exactly have¨Cwait,¡± he interrupted himself, ¡°how the fuck do you know my name?¡±


    Right, he wouldn¡¯t recognize her. Not only was it impossible to see her face through the helmet, the armor she wore boosted her height by several inches. He¡¯d never guess who she really was. Which had been a large part of the point of wearing this sort of costume, so no one would recognize her. But now¡­ now what was she supposed to do?


    ¡°Jason,¡± she started hesitantly. ¡°We¨C¡±


    That, however, was as far as she got before the older boy abruptly crumpled to the floor. Suddenly, Grandstand was standing behind him, having clearly injected him with something from the syringe she was just putting away.


    ¡°Jason!¡± KD blurted, before her gaze snapped that way. ¡°What the hell did¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± Grandstand retorted, ¡°I was really just going to stand around and let you have a moment with him or whatever while his monsters were out there killing people. We can both chat with him once we get him out of here and somewhere that he can¡¯t attack us with his zombies.¡±


    ¡°Uh,¡± Pack started before KD could respond to that, ¡°speaking of his zombies, they aren¡¯t falling down.¡± She had climbed up by then and was standing over by the window, staring at the field. ¡°They¡¯re still running around out there. Why aren¡¯t they falling down? He¡¯s unconscious.¡±


    ¡°Does it have something to do with those¡­ gems?¡± Pack asked, squinting that way. ¡°What the fuck are those?¡±


    ¡°No fucking idea, maybe if someone hadn¡¯t knocked him out, we could¡¯ve asked him. And maybe he has to actively make the zombies stop?¡± Broadway pointed out. ¡°So, wake him up.¡±


    ¡°That uhh, that might be a problem,¡± Grandstand admitted. ¡°He¡¯ll be out for hours thanks to this stuff.¡± She was looking at the syringe. ¡°I really thought him going unconscious would stop the zombies. Isn¡¯t that usually how it works?¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Pack snapped her gaze to her bird-lizard. ¡°Riddles, go get Paintball! Lead him up here, we¡¯ve gotta figure out what the fuck we¡¯re supposed to do now!


    ¡°If we can¡¯t make those zombies stop without waiting for this guy to wake up, we¡¯re in trouble.¡±

 Interlude 23B - Grandstand

    Okay, this certainly hadn¡¯t gone the way Setrea expected it to. Yes, she had known that simply injecting her stolen knock-out drug into the obviously evil boy without waiting for his sister to talk him down would be controversial. But she certainly hadn¡¯t expected it to make the overall situation worse. Why wouldn¡¯t his zombies fall down when he wasn¡¯t around to actively control them? Wasn¡¯t that how it worked with everything else? Why would his suddenly be completely different?


    All those thoughts and more ran through her mind while Broadway was kneeling in front of her brother¡¯s body, shaking him almost violently while shouting for him to wake up. But Setrea already knew that wouldn¡¯t do any good. The drug she had injected him with was too potent. That was the point, after all. He was supposed to stay asleep. And now¡­ well, now they had an even bigger problem than before. If there was no way to wake him up and make him shut off the zombies, this place was going to turn into a massacre.


    Pack had turned away from the window, looking straight at Grandstand herself. ¡°We have to do something. Paintball¡¯s team is getting as many of those people out as they can, but they can¡¯t really stop those monsters for very long. If they can all teleport and just keep running under Jason¡¯s ¡®kill everything in sight¡¯ orders, this¡­ this could be really bad.¡± She paused briefly before adding, a bit pointedly, ¡°That is, if you¡¯re not just about to run away.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault those things are still a problem,¡± Setrea shot back immediately. ¡°I might not have the rock solid moral standing that a thief from La Casa has, but I¡¯m not about to walk away from a bunch of innocent people being slaughtered, either. We all have our lines.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really care what your line is,¡± Broadway put in abruptly, looking up from the boy as she finally gave up on waking him.  ¡°All I care about is stopping those things before my brother ends up being responsible for a fucking massacre.¡±


    ¡°What about those gems attached to him?¡± Setrea asked pointedly, staring at the four-inch-wide ruby in the middle of his chest, as well as the smaller black, two blue, two green, and one amber-colored stones under his throat and against his shoulders, hips, and over his navel, respectively. ¡°What if those are keeping the zombies going or¡­ something?¡±


    ¡°I tried to take them off,¡± Broadway started. ¡°But they wouldn¡¯t bu¨C¡± She was cut off abruptly, as the red stone began to glow. In the same moment, the boy¡¯s hand snapped up to close around her throat tightly. Recoiling and choking a bit, Broadway blurted a weak, ¡°Stop! What¨Cthought¨Cthought you said he¡¯d¨C¡± She abruptly teleported to one side, before slumping over to hold her own throat. ¡°Thought you said he¡¯d be unconscious for hours!¡±


    Before Grandstand could reply, she felt something fly through the air at her from behind. Several somethings, in fact. Spinning that way, she ducked and twisted, forcing two of the objects to miss her, though the third hit her arm and stayed there. It was an amber stone, like the one attached to Jason¡¯s stomach. It stayed locked against her arm, even as she went to grab it. Yanking hard accomplished nothing aside from pulling painfully on her own skin.


    ¡°Oh, he is,¡± a voice spoke up. A figure stood there, near the hole they had all climbed up through. She was clearly female, in her mid-teens and wearing what looked like a long red raincoat and a black cloth mask that left her mouth and chin exposed, along with dark goggles. She raised a hand to point at them, and Grandstand could see five different rings there, one on each finger. The ring on her thumb had a yellow/amber stone on it, the one on her index finger was blue, then red, then green, and finally a black one sat on her pinkie. It was the red one that glowed then, which was matched by another glow from the red stone on Jason¡¯s chest.


    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯s useless,¡± the girl half-snarled. With that, her hand snapped to one side, and Jason abruptly lunged to his feet before throwing himself at Pack. The La Casa Touched was taken by surprise, falling sideways with the boy on top of her. Her lizard-animals rushed to intercede, but were cut off as the fire-zombie from downstairs abruptly appeared in a rush of flames and ash, forcing them to recoil.


    Grandstand, for her part, immediately focused on Manifesting Alistae in order to push everyone¡¯s attention away from her so she could deal with this little girl quickly and decisively. Yet, even as she tried that, the woman felt a sudden rush of intense pain in her head that made her double over with a yelp. The amber stone that had attached itself to her arm and refused to be removed was glowing.


    ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t try that if I was you.¡± There was obvious amusement in the girl¡¯s voice. She showed her hand, where the matching ring was also gleaming brightly. ¡°Try to use your powers without my permission, and bad things happen. That¡¯s what my yellow stones do. It¡¯s pretty fun, huh? I mean, for me. Who really cares about you, honestly?¡±


    Pack was still struggling under the taller, stronger boy as he tried to choke her. The lizards were trying to spread out to get around the zombie so they could get to her, but weren¡¯t having much luck. And Grandstand apparently couldn¡¯t use her power with the damn stone attached to her arm. Well, power or no power, she wasn¡¯t helpless. Immediately, she brought one of her pistols up and took aim. In another second, she would end thi¨C


    ¡°Jennica?!¡± The shout made Setrea stop, as Broadway pointed at the other girl. ¡°Is¨Cis that you?¡±


    The name made the girl in question start a bit, clearly taken by surprise. Gaze snapping that way, she blurted, ¡°Wh¨Cdo I know you? Wait¡­ what?¡± For the first time since she had revealed herself, the figure seemed taken aback and uncertain. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    Pivoting, Broadway sent a blast of concentrated sound toward Pack and Jason. It struck the boy, knocking him off her while giving Pack a chance to roll out of the way. Instantly, her gorilla-lizard positioned himself in front of her, snarling at the zombie, Jason himself, and the masked girl who was apparently behind all this. Jennica. Whoever that was.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± Setrea muttered, taking aim once more. Whatever was going on here, they could figure it out once she made sure this girl wasn¡¯t a threat.


    Jennica, however, abruptly snapped without looking at her, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I was you. See the black stones?¡± At those words, the one just under Jason¡¯s throat began to glow with a purplish light as he stood half-slumped with his eyes closed, like a robot or something that had been turned off. There was also another one attached to Pack¡¯s arm, where Jennica had apparently thrown it at the same time as when she had hit Grandstand with the yellow one.


    ¡°Any injury you try to inflict on me, happens to everyone with those stones instead,¡± the girl informed them snidely. ¡°So go ahead, shoot me. See if I care.¡±


    Okay, well this was getting more complicated by the second. Apparently Jason wasn¡¯t responsible for this whole thing. He was being¡­ what, controlled by the stones that were attached to him? Stones that came from this girl, Jennica. Setrea couldn¡¯t activate either of her Manifestations through the blinding pain that came when she tried, and any attempt to actually hurt this girl would just be passed off to Jason and Pack. In short, the whole situation was a fucking mess. Worse, she was still no closer to being able to interrogate whichever of these two knew something about the other person who was vying for a spot on the Scions. Setrea might have preferred not to let a bunch of innocent people get slaughtered for nothing, but her main goal here was to find out who murdered Jolene. So far, she knew it was someone who was trying to get in with Pencil and Cup, and that those two were running some sort of contest. The person behind the fire-zombies was another part of it, and they had to have interacted with the other person. The person she was really after. She didn¡¯t care if that ended up being Jason, this Jennica girl, or some third suddenly-revealed mastermind. Whoever it was, she was getting some damned answers out of them. One way or another.


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty cool, isn¡¯t it?¡± the girl was gloating. ¡°Anything that gets hit with a black stone takes all the damage that was supposed to hit me. You get a yellow stone, you don¡¯t get to use your powers without a fuckload of pain. Red stone, I get to control you. Wanna know what the blue and green stones do? Keep pushing me and you¡¯ll find out.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°Jennica,¡± Broadway was saying while taking a step that way, ¡°you need to stop. What the hell are you trying to do? What did you do to your brother?¡±


    ¡°My brother?¡± the other girl gave a short, barked laugh. ¡°Obviously, you don¡¯t know me very well after all. He¡¯s not my brother, he¡¯s just some guy who lived with the same family I lived with. He¡¯s nobody. Except for my ticket into the big leagues. The Scions wanna see someone do something special? How do you think you¡¯re going to react when I pull off a massacre like this and manage to blame someone else for it? It¡¯s perfect, and there¡¯s no way any other dipshit¡¯s gonna top it.¡±


    Other dipshit. Setrea instantly zeroed in on that. This girl knew something about her competition. She could tell her something about who he really was.


    ¡°You really think we¡¯re just gonna let you do that?¡± Pack demanded while clearly keeping a wary eye on the zombie, who was just standing there as though awaiting new instructions. ¡°I don¡¯t care who you think you are, you don¡¯t get to murder a stadium full of people just to show off for a bunch of other psychopaths. And Jason can¡¯t take the blame when we tell people it was you.¡±


    ¡°Well darn,¡± Jennica sarcastically lamented while kicking at the floor, ¡°if you¡¯re gonna ruin my fun like that, I guess I¡¯ve got no choice¡­¡± She looked up then, a smile spreading across the exposed lower portion of her face. ¡°I¡¯ll just have to kill all of you.¡±


    In that instant, the amber stone on Jason¡¯s chest glowed, as two more clouds of ashes suddenly flew into the room. They reformed quickly into a couple more fire-zombies, one of which threw itself toward Broadway, while the other went toward Setrea.


    So, sure, things weren¡¯t great. She couldn¡¯t use her power, and she doubted this thing would care about being shot. None of them had cared that much before, and they probably weren¡¯t going to start now. Worse, shooting the bitch herself would apparently only end in hurting her own¡­ well, allies was a bit of a strong word, but still. They were working together, and Setrea didn¡¯t really like the idea of hurting them. Especially when there was no guarantee that it would accomplish anything. Now there were three zombies, a girl who couldn¡¯t be hurt, and the innocent guy she was apparently puppeting somehow. Who, for the record, was unconscious and had no chance of fighting back for himself.


    In short, things could have been better.


    An instant later, just as Setrea was taking aim at the knee of the zombie who was coming for her, in an attempt to at least slow it down, a small form rocketed up out of the hole leading downstairs and planted itself against the ceiling. Or rather, himself.


    ¡°Hi, guys!¡± Paintball announced, seemingly cheerfully, while standing upside down. The zombies, the puppeted Jason, and Jennica had all stopped short to look that way reflexively. ¡°Sorry it took me so long to get up here, you would not believe the traffic. Oh, and the part where I had to stop and listen to your evil plan so I knew what was going on.¡± He added that with a thumbs up toward Jennica, which was accompanied by a purple thumbs up that appeared in the middle of his chest. Upside down so it could be seen properly, of course. Which was followed by a slightly awkward moment as the boy slowly turned his hand around so that his thumb would be pointed up as well.


    For her part, the evil little girl giggled. It came off sounding more than a little unhinged. ¡°Oh, goody, it¡¯s you. You think you¡¯re really funny, huh? You know how fast I¡¯ll get accepted by Pencil if I bring you in so they can play with you? They might make me second-in-command.¡±


    ¡°Jennica!¡± Broadway blurted, still keeping one hand raised toward the zombie who had been coming toward her, just in case he started moving again.  ¡°Would you stop and look at what you¡¯re doing?! Why would you want to join the Scions? Why would you want to hurt your brother and blame him for¨Cfor this?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!¡±


    Clearly glaring that way, the girl snarled, ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t know why you think saying my name like we¡¯re supposed to be friends will suddenly make me see the light and turn this whole thing into a great big Care Bear hug pile or something, but knock it off. I don¡¯t know you. I don¡¯t care about you. I don¡¯t care about any of you. I¡¯ve been treated like shit from the moment I was born. My parents didn¡¯t want me, nobody wanted me. Well, you know what? I don¡¯t want them either. You? These other people, the idiot up on the ceiling, every fucking person in this stadium? You can all go to hell. It¡¯s time for me to get mine. Fuck all of you.¡±


    Before Setrea, Broadway, or anyone else could respond to that, Paintball piped up. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s about what I figured.¡± He clearly used blue paint on his shoes, springing himself forward and over the girl¡¯s head before landing in front of her. ¡°I wish you weren¡¯t evil. We could¡¯ve teamed up, you know? Come on, think about it. You¡¯ve got all those different color rings connected to those different stones you throw around? And they all do something different based on the color? Yellow, blue, red, green, black. You¡¯re even using most of the same colors I do, it would¡¯ve been perfect. We could¡¯ve had so much fun together.¡±


    ¡°Ehhhh,¡± Jennica drawled out, ¡°I think we can still have fun together.¡± With that, she brought her hand up. A red stone appeared in the air, clearly projected out of the matching ring on her hand even as she sent it flying right at Paintball.


    An assortment of shouted warnings went out, even as Paintball himself dove sideways. The stone corrected to follow him, but Setrea was already acting. Pistol extended, she fired once, nailing the stone in mid-air and shattering it just before the thing would have caught up with the boy.


    Unfortunately, no sooner had she done that, then her entire body exploded in pain, making her drop the gun and double over with cry. She dimly heard Jennica taunting her by saying something about being able to control the amber stone manually too, then caught the sound of Paintball saying something.


    The pain abruptly stopped, as Jennica turned to the boy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what did you say? The screaming was a little distracting.¡±


    From where he was lying on the floor, Paintball repeated, ¡°I said, that¡¯s far enough. I only needed you to take a couple steps forward.¡± Just as the girl was clearly processing that, he gave a loud, sharp whistle.


    Instantly, something slammed up through the floor directly below Jennica¡¯s feet. The floor itself broke away instantly, giving Setrea and the others enough of a glimpse of the underside of it (what would have been the ceiling of the room below) to see that it had clearly been painted pink. They also saw what had broken through using that pink circle. It was a narrow, six foot tall ruby and silver box, which had captured the girl inside, cutting her off from sight. They could hear the girl, screaming at them as she pounded the sides of the box.


    ¡°Boy,¡± Alloy announced while rising into the room behind it, ¡°she¡¯s pleasant, isn¡¯t she?¡±


    The two partners exchanged a high five, all while Jason and the zombies remained completely still. Paintball, turning away from Alloy, explained, ¡°We found the room where she locked up a couple of the park managers.¡±


    Nodding, Alloy added, ¡°Would you believe we only found them because I thought I saw a raccoon waving at me? Anyway, the guys in there said that it seemed like she could only activate the stones she was looking at. So, in there, she can¡¯t look at any of them.¡±


    The pounding and shouting from inside the box abruptly stopped, before Jennica¡¯s voice called, ¡°Maybe I can¡¯t see, but I can still hear. And that¡¯s not quite right.  Remember the green ring? It lets me go aaaanywhere one of my other green stones is. In other words¨C¡±


    In the midst of that spiel, Setrea had already snapped her pistol up. She fired twice in rapid succession before the girl could say anything else. Each shot skimmed either side of the unconscious boy who stood at attention, shattering the green stones there. The shots drew blood, but not that much. Mostly she simply grazed the boy. Even Broadway, who started to shout out in shock and anger when she saw Setrea pointing the gun that way, stopped short and stared.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Paintball put in, ¡°you¡¯re a good shot.¡±


    A slight pause followed that, before Jennica let out a loud, frustrated scream. Then there was a sudden flash of bright green light from within the box. When no other sound followed, Alloy opened a hole in it, then transformed the box back into two marbles, revealing nothing inside. Jennica had teleported away somewhere. She was gone. And with that, the various colored stones all vanished from Setrea, Jason, and the others, while Jason himself collapsed back to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He was still unconscious.


    ¡°I uhh, guess that means she¡¯s gone?¡± Pack managed, while touching one of her lizards protectively. ¡°She must¡¯ve had another green stone somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Setrea blurted, spinning to punch a nearby wall hard enough to bruise her hand. ¡°Damn it! She was my best shot! She was my best fucking shot to find out who the Scions¡¯ other contest recruit is! I have to find that piece of shit!¡±


    Broadway, who had fallen to her knees next to her brother to check on him, spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ll help you.¡± She looked up, meeting Setrea¡¯s gaze. ¡°I¡¯ll help you find her and this guy you¡¯re looking for. You help me stop her from joining the Scions, and I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to make sure we find the guy you need too.¡±


    Just as Grandstand was about to respond to that, the sound of many police sirens, accompanied by several helicopters, filled the air. She glanced sideways toward the window, seeing several Star-Touched already starting to fill the stadium below. ¡°Fine,¡± Setrea agreed. ¡°But first, we should get out of here.


    ¡°Something tells me those guys won¡¯t be in the mood to hear us say we were trying to help.¡±

 Non-Canon 20 - Elena Knows

    Looking down at the shoe that her son had handed her as the only piece of evidence they had for the witness who had gotten away from them, Elena Evans felt a rush of emotions go through her. She kept it off her face, remaining outwardly impassive. She knew Simon had not picked up on the truth. Given the way he had presented the shoe, he clearly had no idea what it really meant. In most cases, she would have reprimanded him for bringing evidence into their home. But, right then, she was far too distracted by her own thoughts. Holding the shoe, she gestured. ¡°Go on inside and sleep, mio figlio. We shall speak more about this in the morning.¡±


    Simon, for his part, seemed a bit confused. He had clearly expected more of a reprimand. But he did as he was told, giving one last look at her over his shoulder before heading in, with a quiet, ¡°Good night, Mother.¡±


    ¡°I love you, my boy,¡± Elena absently murmured while she turned the shoe over in her hand. Then she straightened up, and turned a bit, her gaze passing over the grounds of their enormous home. A soft sigh escaped her. This¡­ this was going to take some work to deal with.


    As those thoughts passed through her mind, the woman spoke up, voice filling the air. She tried to make it as gentle as possible, but knew that it would still be startling. ¡°You can come out now. It¡¯s alright.¡± After a brief pause where nothing happened, she added, ¡°I love you, mia principessa. You are safe here, I promise you. You will always be safe here. And...¡± She gave the shoe a light toss, watching as it landed on the ground. ¡°I feel you might need this back.¡±


    For another few moments, nothing happened. The air was silent. Still, Elena waited patiently. She knew what a big thing this was, and had thought of several different ways to handle it. But this seemed to be the best in her mind. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to feel afraid of her own home, let alone afraid of her own family. The thought of her child being afraid of what she would do was¡­ one of the worst thoughts she could ever remember having. No, she would not allow that. Whatever came next, they would handle the situation properly.


    Eventually, after the silence had gone on for even longer, there was a soft sound in one of the nearby bushes. As Elena¡¯s gaze moved that way, she saw her daughter slowly emerge. She was clearly on guard, watching her mother carefully. It was an expression which made a hard, cold fist close around Elena¡¯s heart. A part of her wanted to step that way and wrap the girl in a tight embrace, yet she stopped herself. She knew just how badly that could go, particularly if she forced the issue.


    Instead, she spoke softly, voice tender and gentle. ¡°My princess. Please, take your shoe back. They were a gift from your father, after all. He would not like to think that you had lost them.¡±


    Cassidy remained still for a moment longer, continuing to watch her mother warily. Then she slowly moved forward, putting her foot in the shoe before pulling it back. She still didn¡¯t take her eyes off Elena. Her mouth opened as though to say something, only to stop. Then she tried again. ¡°You¡­ you knew. You knew about Simon.¡± Her voice cracked partway through that, and she seemed to reflexively flinch backward. When she spoke again, it was even softer. ¡°You knew about him killing those people. He¡­ he did it for you. For you and Dad. You¡­ you¡¯re all..¡± She cringed slightly before adding in a forlorn tone, ¡°He¡¯s a murderer. You¡¯re all murderers, aren¡¯t you?¡± There was accusation in her voice, but also pain. And fear. None of which Elena wanted to hear coming from her daughter.


    Feeling the pain from that, the woman inhaled slowly before letting it out, her mind working its way through many different options once more. Finally, she spoke. ¡°What, and who, we are is very complicated, Cassidy.¡± She thought it best not to use any endearing nicknames or fond terms at that moment. This was a time to show her daughter that she was taking this, and her, seriously. ¡°But no matter what, I want you to know that we love you. None of us would ever do anything to hurt you. As I said, you are always safe here. The rest we can discuss. I will tell you anything and everything you wish to know. I will explain everything I can. Please, take a walk with me?¡± She paused, then offered her hand to the girl.


    Cassidy, for her part, hesitated slightly. Then she spoke, her voice catching a little. It was obviously hard for her to say it. ¡°I can¡­ walk with you. But like this.¡± She stayed several feet away, which pained Elena, but was understandable.


    ¡°This is not how we wanted you to find out the truth,¡± the woman informed her child as she turned to walk around the side of the mansion. A guard was approaching from that way, but he hastily stepped aside and remained silent at a look from Elena.


    Soon, Cassidy was following at a cautious distance, the two of them making their way along the side of the enormous house and toward one of the pools in the back. Specifically, toward the poolhouse. As they walked, Elena spoke as calmly as she could manage under the circumstances. ¡°I assume you were in the car your brother took to the motel, and rode it back here, getting out somewhere along the way without him noticing.¡±


    There was a slight pause before Cassidy replied, ¡°I didn¡¯t ride back in the car. I took an Uber.¡± Her voice was flat, sounding slightly detached. Or perhaps still in disbelief.


    Absorbing that, Elena nodded before speaking again. ¡°I¡­¡± That single word came before she realized she had no idea what she wanted to say. More words were there, but they caught in her throat. None seemed adequate. None seemed proper, given the circumstances. Of all the ways she had thought of explaining the truth of their family to her daughter, none were like this.


    But then, at least it wasn¡¯t as bad as the first time Cassidy had learned the truth, at poor Anthony¡¯s party.


    Finally, she forced herself to continue, to say something. ¡°This may sound impossible, and as though I am simply forcing some sort of connection. But I want you to know that it is the absolute truth. I have been in your position. I know how you are feeling, because I have been there. I have felt the things you are feeling right now.¡±


    Cassidy made a noise in the back of her throat, before stammering out a confused, ¡°H-how could you know that? How--what?¡±


    Pausing her walk, Elena turned that way. She made no move to step toward her daughter, though so much of her wanted to. ¡°You know that, before I married your father, my name was Elena Russo.¡± As Cassidy gave a slow, uncertain nod, the woman continued. ¡°My father was Jacopo Russo. But he was more known by his title for much of his life.¡± She swallowed. ¡°The Shaitan. It¡¯s another word for an evil spirit, or demon. That was what he was called. Because the crimes he was responsible for, the murders he both committed and ordered done, were so evil, so monstrous, that the police said they could only have been done by a demon from hell. Thus, he became known as the Shaitan. It was a title he held proudly.¡±


    She went quiet again for a moment, allowing her mind to work through those memories. Even today, they made her flinch slightly. ¡°When I was a child, I grew up in a mansion as well. My father never allowed me to go around in public, however. He wanted me¡­ sealed away. I was only allowed to play with the children of his close subordinates, or business contacts. I was tutored for much of my life, before convincing him to let me attend school. Even then, it was a very closed-off and restricted private school and the other students generally avoided me. I had no idea what my father did for a living, only that we were rich, and I had to ¡®set an example¡¯ by being an obedient, dutiful daughter who excelled in all of her classes, yet did not sully herself by mingling with others who were beneath me.


    ¡°That is the life I did not wish for you. It¡¯s why I have tried in every possible way to ensure you are free to come and go as you please, to have any friends you wish to have. It is why I¡­ why I want you to feel safe here.¡±


    After saying that, Elena sighed softly. ¡°In any case, when I was younger than you, only thirteen years old, I wished more than anything to attend my first middle school dance. I wasn¡¯t allowed, of course. That was far too dangerous and¡­ common, to my father. Still, I was desperate. So, I did something I had never done before. I snuck out of our house and went to the dance anyway.¡±


    Cassidy¡®s mouth opened, likely to ask what this had to do with the current situation. But she stopped herself and simply folded her arms tightly and uncomfortably across her chest. It made the cold hand around Elena¡®s heart squeeze a little tighter to see her daughter react to her like that, but she pressed on. ¡°I had so much fun that night. It was the first time I could remember where I did what I wanted to do instead of what my father told me to. I felt free, like¡­ like a normal teenage girl.¡±


    She glanced away, reliving those blissful hours in her mind before swallowing. ¡°But eventually, I had to go home. I took a cab and got out a couple blocks away. When I got to the edge of my family''s estate, I saw lights on in the front driveway. I thought I was in trouble. I thought my father was going to ground me forever, or even take me out of my school and force me to go back to private tutors again.¡±


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    With a snort, she shook her head at her own naivety. ¡°I snuck over the fence and went closer to the lights. I wanted to see what sort of mood he was in before I gave myself up. That was important, to know if it was better to hide until he calmed down or not. I heard his voice, but he wasn¡¯t out there for me. There were three trucks in the driveway all side-by-side with their headlights on, all facing the main garage.¡±


    Yet again, Elena stopped talking for a few seconds. The memories, though decades-old, were still painful. ¡°There were four men in that open garage, lit up by those headlights. My father, two people I didn¡¯t recognize but¡­ but found out were police detectives, and another man.¡±


    A soft sigh escaped the woman once more. She did not want to tell her daughter the rest of this story. But she had to. At the very least, she could avoid going into too many details. ¡°The man owed my father money. But rather than pay up, he went to the police for help. He offered to, ah, as they say, snitch about my father¡®s business. But the police officers he spoke to were on my father¡¯s take. They turned him in. They were the cops who were standing there watching. And they kept watching while my father beat that man to death. He used fists, brass knuckles, and a metal baseball bat. And he didn¡¯t do it quickly. He took his time. Those police officers watched and said nothing while my father tortured that man to death, and the screams I heard from him¡­¡± Her eyes closed and she gave a physical shiver.


    ¡°I hid in those bushes and watched as my father brutally murdered a man for betraying him. He murdered him in a way that was meant to send a message. That¡¯s what he was doing. The dirty cops would spread it, as would his body when it was found. It was the first time I really understood what my family was. We were Mafia. My father was one of the highest ranking members of the family here in America. And he had a reputation as a demon for a reason. They didn¡¯t call him Shaitan by accident. I learned that night, and over the subsequent days, that my father controlled the police, the mayor¡¯s office, the district attorney, even a substantial portion of the media. Through bribes, blackmail, threats, and more, he held tight control over the city, even as it was falling apart around him.¡±


    Squeezing her hand tightly shut for a moment, Elena studied her fist before continuing. ¡°So, when I tell you that I know how you feel, I am not just saying that. I have been in your position. It is¡­ a position I never wanted you to be in.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the younger girl swallowed audibly before quietly asking, ¡°Are we Mafia?¡±


    ¡°We are¡­ not exactly that,¡± Elena carefully informed her. Taking a breath, she turned to walk once more. ¡°Come, please, Cassidy. As I said, you are always safe with us. We will never do anything to hurt you. We¡­¡± She paused, thinking of the time they had taken the decision of what to do about what their daughter knew out of her hands. But that was different, and a part of Elena had always thought it had been a mistake, since the moment they did it. That was not something they would do again. It had been one thing to erase the trauma that Cassidy had gone through as a child in witnessing the murder of her best friend and his family. It had left her all-but catatonic. Erasing her memory now, simply because she knew something she shouldn¡¯t? It had been on her mind as a possibility if they had shown her what their family was and it became something she couldn¡¯t handle. But now, seeing the way her daughter reacted to having stumbled across the truth by accident¡­ no. No, she could not do that to her. They would find a way to get through it, whatever it took. She would not violate her child¡¯s mind again.


    To Elena¡¯s relief, Cassidy followed her as they walked toward the poolhouse. They still had a lot to work on and get through, but at least things hadn¡¯t fallen apart that much. Not yet, anyway. On the way, she took out her phone and hit a single button before speaking into it. ¡°Yellowbrick, would you please give my daughter and me a bridge from the poolhouse to the downtown office? Yes. That¡¯s right. Thank you.¡±


    Once she put the phone away, her eyes shifted to where Cassidy was staring at her in confusion. ¡°It¡¯s okay. We¡¯re just taking a little walk. It¡¯ll be quicker this way.¡± By that point, they had reached the building, and she reached out to take the door open, revealing the open black void beyond, with the glowing amber colored bridge leading out to apparently nothing.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ wh-has¡­ has our pool house always done that?¡± Cassidy stammered, taking a reflexive step back. ¡°Cuz I feel like I would¡¯ve noticed. I mean, I--I¡­¡± She stared that way, mouth opening and shutting a few times.


    With a soft smile, Elena shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s alright, Cassidy.¡± Part of the woman urgently wanted to call her principessa again, or my girl, or any other affectionate term. But no, it was important, in that moment, to speak to her as¡­ if not an adult, at least close to one. After everything that had happened, and what she had seen, she deserved to be treated and spoken to that way. "Come, I promise, it is--¡± In mid-sentence, as she was about to assure the girl it was safe, Elena abruptly noticed that Cassidy wasn¡¯t there anymore. She blinked at the empty spot where the girl had been, looked one way, then the other, and finally turned to the doorway.


    Cassidy was already on the bridge. She had gone straight past Elena in the time it took her to start to reassure the girl, without any care about whether the doorway was actually safe or not. Before Elena could so much as finish a sentence of reassurance, her daughter had gone right into the void and was hopping up and down on the bridge itself as though to test its sturdiness for herself.


    She had walked into the void she didn¡¯t know anything about, and was jumping up and down on the bridge to see if it was sturdy. This¡­ this was Elena¡¯s daughter.


    Smiling softly with amusement and wonder, the woman stepped onto the bridge herself, letting the door close behind her. As she and Cassidy stood on the bridge, Elena explained, ¡°We have a friend. She goes by the name of Yellowbrick. You¡­ well, you¡¯ll officially meet her soon enough. She makes these bridges, connecting one doorway to another. It¡¯s how we get around so quickly. We can take a plane as ourselves over to Europe, then take one of Yellowbrick¡¯s bridges back here so we have a¡­¡± She trailed off, only realizing what she was actually saying as the last word came to mind.


    ¡°An alibi,¡± Cassidy finished for her, staring intently. ¡°So you have an alibi for whatever bad thing is going on. Whatever bad thing you and Dad are doing.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± Elena considered her words before simply going with, ¡°It¡¯s a complicated situation. Come, please.¡± With that, she started to walk while continuing. ¡°As I said before, I witnessed my father murdering that man. That was my first realization of what my family truly was, but I had many more reminders over the years. I played my part as a quiet, obedient daughter, and watched everything. I watched and learned all that I could. And when I fell in love with your dad, my father¡­ he forbade us from seeing one another. Your dad was an accountant in one of Papa¡¯s more legitimate businesses. One of his cover companies. We planned on running away together, on changing our identities and being on our own. I knew how the Mafia worked, I knew how to avoid their searches. We would have disappeared.


    ¡°But then your father gained his powers--¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Cassidy interrupted, eyes widening.


    Stopping by the second door, Elena cleared her throat. ¡°Ah, right. I--yes, your father is also Silversmith. You should know that, while we are getting everything out into the open.¡±


    ¡°Dad¡­ Silversmith¡­ but I--he--¡± Cassidy reeled backward, absorbing that. ¡°Dad¡¯s Silversm--but he¡¯s my--but--oh.¡±


    ¡°Touched in general were just becoming known,¡± Elena continued. ¡°But we both knew one thing, this was an opportunity. We saw the way superpowers were developing, the way people were reacting to them and how much of a benefit they could be. My father, and the Mafia in general, were slow to react, slow to change and adjust. We took advantage of that. We turned his people against him, created a second identity of Silversmith as one of those brand new, ahh¡­ superheroes who could hit the Mafia using information we both had, while allowing those we could turn to our own side to escape, or even triumph in apparently driving Silversmith away. We used Silversmith as a way of eliminating threats, and giving our own people opportunities to rise in the ranks. Eventually, we managed to turn enough of my father¡¯s people, and get rid of enough of the ones we couldn¡¯t turn, in order to drive him out of the city entirely. He was supposed to be gone forever, but¡­¡± She paused, grimacing before shaking her head. ¡°The point is, he was gone and the system he left behind was ours.


    ¡°We had used the authority of Silversmith as a fledgling superhero to make it happen, and we kept that going. We were in on the ground floor of making the city a better place, of fixing everything that had gone wrong in Detroit for so long. And we took advantage of that. We met--well, the details will come later. Some will still shock you. But what matters is that we met a man who can erase or adjust memories. We used that to solidify our power, to make everyone who could have been a threat to us, who knew my identity as a daughter of the mob, forget who I truly was. We used my father¡¯s hold over the law enforcement in the city to compromise them ourselves, to create¡­ to create what we call the Ministry. We have our reasons for that, our reasons for wanting to create this structure. And I will get into that, we both will, to answer everything we can about any questions you have. But what matters, Cassidy, is that we believe this is the way to maintain order and create progress in this city, in all of Michigan.¡±


    That said, Elena opened the second door, ushering her daughter into one of the penthouse offices downtown. Once they were through and the door closed behind them, she walked to the window overlooking the city. ¡°There is so much more to talk about, so much I want to tell you, Cassidy, my¡­ my daughter. We have wanted to tell you the truth for so long, just¡­ it never felt like the right time. But now, well, now it clearly is.¡± Staring out over the skyline, she fell silent for a few seconds, feeling Cassidy watching her from behind. ¡°But first, before we get into all of that, is there anything you want to say?¡±


    There was a long moment of silence as her daughter considered the question, weighing it in her mind. Elena could see her reflection in the glass as the girl¡¯s face twisted in thought. Finally, she shook her head. ¡°No, Mom. I¡­ don¡¯t have anything I want to say.


    ¡°But I sure have a hell of a lot more questions.¡±

 Interlude 23C - The Ministry

    As she strolled down the hall of one of their main office buildings in the middle of downtown Detroit, Elena Evans spoke on the Bluetooth device in her ear. Her voice was crisp and no-nonsense. ¡°Tell me precisely how many of the Easy Eight switched sides. No, just the Touched.¡± She paused then to listen to the response before exhaling. ¡°Three. Which ones?¡± Again, she paused to listen while standing directly outside the office door. It had opened at her approach thanks to the sensors above which scanned her identity, but she didn¡¯t go through yet. ¡°How did he manage that without anyone hearing about negotiations? Find out.¡±


    Finally walking into the office, she shook her head while heading for the desk. ¡°No, there¡¯s no need to sanction them. It¡¯s not against the rules to switch sides, I just want to know how we were surprised. Somehow I doubt those three kept their intentions to themselves, or that it was spur of the moment. Are we certain that Grandstand leaving him wasn¡¯t a ploy to allow her to operate in secret for this?¡± Reaching the desk, she checked through a few files that had been left on top. ¡°Yes, I have the address for that theater right here. Are you ready? Ten Seventeen Wagontrail. Find out if they¡¯re still living there or how long ago they left. Yes, now, there¡¯s nothing you can contribute to this fight that someone else isn¡¯t already doing. Take a small squad, just in case. Pearson¡¯s people should be ready. Minister Gold will be¡­ occupied for the time being, and Squire is following up on another¨C¡±


    She stopped at a knock on the door, turning to see Alcazar standing there. The expression on the utterly average-looking man¡¯s face told Elena that whatever he had come for wouldn¡¯t wait. So, she gave a couple more quick instructions over the phone, before disconnecting the call so she could turn her full attention that way. ¡°What happened? More betrayals?¡±


    The man¡¯s mouth opened before he paused. ¡°Ah, well I was on my way to inform you that Braintrust¡¯s move against the lab you wanted checked for any connection to Pittman has begun. Given the distractions through the rest of the city, it¡¯s doubtful that anything unexpected will happen, but we¡¯re keeping an eye on it. But just before I got here, one of our people informed me that we just received a phone call from the Banners girl.¡±


    That confused Elena, though more out of curiosity about why he would be bringing that up right now, or look so confused by it. There are other things happening which were far more important at this particular moment than some lone girl calling them, even if she was someone they had an agreement with to leave one another alone. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me she¡¯s trapped somewhere downtown and needs¨Cwait.¡± Amending herself, Elena asked, ¡°Is this about her missing sister?¡± Flea, and Trivial with her, had both gone missing at one of the worst possible times. The Ministry had reached out to Paige to find out what she knew about it, but the girl claimed it had something to do with business enemies her father was paranoid about and that he had taken his wife and adopted daughter on an extended ¡®vacation¡¯ of sorts to avoid them. Apparently she had convinced him to finally let her come home to finish the school year, but had no idea where they were now, and hadn¡¯t known that Irelyn had left Detroit already to go look for them.


    It was all quite the mess, but still didn¡¯t quite explain why Alcazar would be bringing it up now, considering everything that was already happening. He knew better than that, so what¨C


    ¡°No,¡± came his flat response. ¡°Actually, she was¡­ ahh, calling on behalf of Paintball.¡±


    Well, that certainly got Elena¡¯s attention. Of course they knew that the boy had some interaction with Paige, after he¡¯d rescued her from Kent. Part of her deal with the Ministry in exchange for not doing anything with the information she had collected was that they would leave both her and Paintball alone. Granted, if Elena had wanted to push that issue she could have, but for now it was an arrangement that suited them well enough. Paintball was a potential asset to be recruited later, once he had more experience and more understanding of what the city was like. And as for Paige, the very fact that she had managed to collect that information in the first place made her an intriguing potential resource all on her own. She was clearly far more than a simple spoiled rich girl, and even as a non-Touched, her resourcefulness and quick wit already meant she would be more useful with the Ministry than against them. Adding in the fact that she had actually resisted Kent¡¯s attempt to erase her memory, something very few were capable of, and it all added up to Elena being quite willing to accept a deal to leave the two of them alone for the time being.


    And yet, she had certainly not expected Paintball to reach out to them like this. Not so soon, anyway. ¡°What was this message concerning?¡±


    Over the next few moments, Elena stood and listened while Alcazar gave her a quick rundown of the situation. Apparently Paintball and his new team had managed to track down the source of the fire-zombies that had been cropping up around the city. Which was good, except the person responsible was about to unleash an army of them on a stadium full of innocent people, on opening night, no less.


    ¡°Paintball and his troupe are on their way into the stadium now,¡± Alcazar finished. ¡°They have called for assistance from all avenues, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, the city is rather involved right now,¡± Elena agreed. Her mind was racing through possibilities. If Paintball was willing to call for their help, the situation must be quite bad indeed. Or he was an even better potential recruit than she had thought. Either way, stopping a massacre like that was absolutely one of the things the Ministry was meant for.


    ¡°There is something else,¡± Alcazar added. ¡°One of our VIPs is attending the game. Candid Panther.¡± Even now, just between the two of them, he used the secret code name for one of the Ministry¡¯s most important clients rather than say the real name aloud. It was simply a good habit to be in. ¡°I¡¯ve attempted to reach him, but there¡¯s no response. I believe he turned his phone off.¡±


    Repressing the urge to curse, Elena was already tapping the Bluetooth device as she spoke the name, ¡°Ministers Gray.¡± The phone dialed, ringing through to the office several buildings down the street where they would be working.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have it yet,¡± Price, the raccoon, announced immediately by way of greeting. ¡°I told you, Ms. Evans, we will call as soon as we¡¯ve tracked down th¨C¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about that,¡± she interrupted. ¡°I have another job for you, of more immediate importance.¡± With that, she quickly gave him the information. ¡°Use Yellowbrick and get to the stadium. Candid Panther is there, in Box¡­¡± She paused, then passed along the details as Alcazar provided them. ¡°Get there and extract him right now. And while you¡¯re there, provide any assistance you can to Paintball and his people. Quietly, of course. We may wish to have a discussion with the boy later, about this as well as the report that his group was robbed by the same people who hit us.¡± She considered her own words before nodding thoughtfully. ¡°Yes, a discussion would be good. But until then, there¡¯s no need to cause more of a scene. I¡¯ll give you a mask. I would send others, but¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re stretched thin right now, yeah, yeah, got it,¡± Price confirmed. ¡°On our way, but you might wanna light a fire under the actual authorities out there, or scrounge up someone who can do something more official.¡±


    With that, he disconnected. Elena didn¡¯t mind. The situation was too important right now to waste time with niceties. Instead, she focused on giving the Grays each ¡®a mask.¡¯ In her case, the term didn¡¯t mean a literal, physical mask. Instead, she focused on both Price and Fisher, using her power to cloak both of them in an illusion. Another thought added herself, Sterling, Simon, Alcazar, and several others to the ¡®white-list¡¯ for that illusion. Whenever anyone other than those people looked at the Ministers Gray, they would see a large, heavy-set man in Fisher¡¯s case, and a dog in Price¡¯s case. Having a bear and raccoon running around the stadium would have caused far too much of a problem, otherwise.


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    Once she was satisfied, Elena immediately turned her attention back to Alcazar. ¡°Call the local police precinct in that area. I believe the person you want to talk to is Captain Lemar Callan. He¡¯s one of ours, and he will listen. Have them send everything they have to the stadium, right now.¡±


    That done, she turned and walked around to sit at the desk, finger tapping the keyboard there to bring the computer to life. Part of Elena wanted to call her husband and tell him what was happening, but he was entirely too busy at the moment. A quick glance at the computer screen told her that much. The secret video camera he wore hidden within his helmet as Silversmith was broadcasting to one of several windows she had open, revealing a rather intense fight against Cu¨¦lebre happening right at that moment. For just a moment, she watched the screen, before reminding herself that watching things like that only made her more anxious. Much better to distract herself with other things, and there were plenty of distractions to be had.


    So, pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Elena simply sent a non-emergency message to let her husband know she had something of importance to talk about. Then she switched windows to bring up another live video feed. This one showed Glitch and several of her people, broadcast from the Braintrust leader¡¯s own costume, as they carried out their raid on the lab. It was one of the best possibilities of where Pittman could have been getting assistance to create his little automatons. Of course, as far as most of the Braintrust people (Touched and Prev alike) knew, they were there to steal equipment. Only Glitch was aware of the Ministry¡¯s request. While her people were busy looting supplies, she would be taking the records Elena had asked her to procure.


    Soon, she was as satisfied as she could be in that moment that the raid was going off as well as it could. Unsurprisingly, the security guards on-site were no match for a full-scale Fell-Touched invasion, and the police and Star-Touched response would be¡­ a long time coming.


    Looking up, she focused on Alcazar, having tuned out his own murmured conversation while she was assessing these situations. She said nothing, simply meeting his gaze with one eyebrow raised questioningly.


    ¡°The authorities are on their way,¡± he informed her. ¡°Or will be shortly. And¨C¡± Holding up one hand to ask for a moment, he turned his head and clearly listened to something on his own Bluetooth, before nodding. ¡°Good to know.¡± That said, he turned back to Elena. ¡°Candid Panther has been extracted. Or, well, he¡¯s in Gray¡¯s pocket dimension, in any case. They¡¯re still working on the rest of it. But it seems Fisher would like to give Paintball a brief glimpse of himself, to begin to prepare him for any future encounters. If you wouldn¡¯t mind removing the boy from the illusion for a moment?¡±


    Pausing briefly, Elena considered before nodding. It wasn¡¯t a bad thought. Potentially allowing Paintball to meet with Fisher and Price had its benefits. They could test the boy¡¯s ability to keep a secret, for one. Any attempt to tell anyone about a bear and raccoon Touched in the city, or any whisper about their existence at all, would tell the Ministry a lot. And preparing by giving him a glimpse or two ahead of time so that it might not be a complete shock¡­ yes. ¡°Have him tell you when.¡± For a moment, she waited, until Alcazar gave her the go-ahead nod. With that, Elena added Paintball to the exceptions list, allowing him to see Fisher for what he was for several seconds, until Alcazar nodded again. Then she removed the boy and murmured, ¡°What interesting lives we lead.¡±


    ¡°That is an understatement,¡± Alcazar informed her. With a sigh, he shook his head. ¡°And what a time for Z to be out of town, right?¡±


    Elena gave a very soft snort at that. ¡°Yes, well, that does seem to be how these things go, doesn¡¯t it? But her mission is still important. We need to know where Flea and Trivial went after they were last seen in Florida. There is a trail, and she will find it.¡± After a brief pause then, she sighed. ¡°That said, yes, it would be nice if she were here right now. As she is not, we will simply have to make do.¡±


    The two of them considered that for another moment, before Elena again turned her attention back to Paintball. For some reason, the fact that the boy had reached out to them still gave her pause. It made her reconsider a few things. For a time after the situation at the motel with the escaped witness, who turned out to have Touched, she had thought the boy would become a problem. But as he made it clear that he had no intention of going to the local authorities, she had assumed he simply knew that such a thing would be pointless, and might even have been searching for a higher authority to go to.


    But this? His willingness to request their aid when the situation called for it¡­ yes, that bore further thought. Perhaps a direct conversation would not be a bad idea. Fisher had already made¨Cwell, not first contact exactly, but a first look, anyway. If the boy¨C


    Her musings were interrupted, however, as Alcazar abruptly turned away, hand rising to touch his earpiece. ¡°What? Are you sure? Yes.¡± Without another word, he focused on Elena. ¡°Would you allow the Alloy girl to see Price for a moment?¡±


    Given his tone of voice, Elena didn¡¯t question it. She simply did as requested, focusing on the girl in question until Alcazar nodded to show it was enough. Then she turned the illusion back on for her before asking, ¡°And what was that about?¡±


    She then listened while Alcazar informed her that the boy Paintball¡¯s people were after wasn¡¯t the actual villain after all. Price had located the girl in question, too late to stop her. But at that moment, they had needed to draw Paintball and his partner to the room where the girl had secured people who could tell the pair what was happening. The quickest way to do that had been to catch Alloy¡¯s attention with a glimpse of a raccoon so they would investigate. Which was a bit of a crude method, but seemed to have worked, at least.


    ¡°Do you want the Grays to take more direct action?¡± Alcazar asked then, clearly passing that question along from the two themselves. ¡°Given the situation.¡±


    Elena considered that for a moment with a thoughtful frown. Before she could answer, a ping from her computer drew her attention that way. It was a response from Sterling. The situation with Cu¨¦lebre had been contained, and he was ready to hear what was happening.


    So, she called him. Hearing his voice as he answered, she immediately started with, ¡°I do hope you and your people weren¡¯t too exhausted by that little exercise.


    ¡°There is a situation which requires your attention.¡±


    *******


    ¡°So, the boy contacted us of his own volition.¡± Sterling noted that some time later, after the situation had been thoroughly resolved. Well, as resolved as it could be with the Jennica girl escaping. She would certainly be a problem later, as would these others who were supposedly competing for a spot on the Scions.


    Elena nodded once. She and her husband were standing on the patio outside their own bedroom back at home. Both were exhausted from the long, complicated day. It had been far past time to rest. Everything else, including the fallout from the explosion of gang violence, would wait until the next day. But this was a conversation they needed to have. ¡°Through the Banners girl, no less. Which means both of them are willing to ask for our help if the situation warrants.¡±


    Sterling considered that while taking a sip of his drink. Setting the glass down on the railing, he looked out over the grounds while murmuring, ¡°That is quite interesting. Maybe you¡¯re right, they¡¯ll both be assets in the future.¡±


    ¡°I do hope so,¡± Elena noted as she glanced up toward the sky and put an arm around her husband. ¡°They are both quite talented in their own ways. And you know how I hate to waste talent.¡±


    Giving an audible snort, Sterling smiled fondly. ¡°Yes, you are quite opposed to the concept. Does that mean you¡¯re giving the Grays the go-ahead on their request?¡±


    Elena thought about that for a moment. Doing something like this would be a big step. And yet, Paintball had taken the first of those when he asked for their help. Drumming her fingers along the railing, she watched the sky briefly before coming to a decision. ¡°Yes. I think we should tell them to go ahead. And you?¡±


    Sterling¡¯s mouth pursed as he considered before agreeing, ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll tell them to make contact. If Paintball does anything with that he¡¯s not supposed to, we¡¯ll find out. And if he doesn¡¯t¡­ well, we can go from there.¡±


    Once he had sent that message along, the man returned to his spot next to his wife, hand finding its way to her back to rub there tenderly. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll see how that goes. But in the meantime, I think I¡¯ve had just about enough of Ministry and Conservator time for the day.


    ¡°And not nearly enough of beautiful, brilliant wife time.¡±

 Schooling 24-01

    So, as it had turned out, the entire situation was even more complicated than we already thought it was. What had been an incredibly thin hope that Jason wasn¡¯t responsible for his own actions and was being framed somehow ended up being the truth. But that didn¡¯t help Broadway that much, because their foster sister was the person who framed him. And she had done it specifically because she was actually trying out to join the fucking Scions herself. Broadway had gone from feeling sick about her brother being that kind of psycho malicious piece of shit, to feeling sick about it being her sister instead. Again, not much of an upgrade.


    On the other hand, the zombies had all fallen apart as soon as that Jennica girl had stopped controlling Jason and fled. Which at least meant we didn¡¯t have to deal with them. But, of course, that still left the boy himself. And a whole lot of explanations to give to the authorities.


    Broadway and Pack left with Grandstand as soon as the cops and other Star-Touched started showing up. I couldn¡¯t blame any of them for not wanting to stick around. If Broadway wanted to keep her identity secret, she couldn¡¯t really explain what she was doing here. She did, however, make me promise that I would give the authorities the whole story about what really happened with Jason so he wouldn¡¯t end up being blamed for everything. It was pretty obvious that she had considered taking him with her, but in the end, decided against it. It was a better idea for us to explain things so he wouldn¡¯t have to go on the run for the rest of his life, hopefully. But then again, if he had his evil sister still trying to use his power¡­ Yeah, that was complicated.


    As it turned out, Caishen had finally shown up, along with like half the Star-Touched in Detroit. Including my father, as Silversmith, of course. It may have taken them a while to get our messages and have time to do something about it, but now they were here. Too bad it was too late to matter.


    Still, it led to our whole team standing in front of Silversmith, Caishen, and Brumal in one of the executive offices. Meanwhile the rest of the authorities were going over this place with a fine tooth comb just to make sure there were no more surprises left behind. Jason, still unconscious from the drug he¡¯d been injected with, was lying on the floor nearby with someone¡¯s jacket set under his head as a pillow.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Silversmith started while looking right at me, ¡°let me see if I¡¯ve got this right. That boy over there really does have the power to animate dead things and give them fire powers. He really did create and control the zombies we saw. But he wasn¡¯t actually responsible for what he did because his adopted sister also has powers, one of which allows her to control anyone she hits with one of her stone things, which she has attached to rings on her hand. She¡¯s the one who wants to join the Scions, and part of her initiation, or test, or¡­ whatever you might want to call it, was framing her brother for all of this.¡±


    Glancing to the others before turning my attention back to my father, I gave a short nod. ¡°That¡¯s right, sir. Like I said, we were desperate for help, so I reached out to Pack since I, you know, helped them before with¨C¡±


    Before I could finish, Brumal spoke up. ¡°You helped save Blackjack''s daughter. An understandable goal, but what¡¯s this about you having her phone number?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t really expect it to work,¡± I replied. ¡°I figured they would¡¯ve disconnected that number by now. And no, I¡¯m not giving it to you.¡± I saw the way they looked at each other at that, and quickly pressed on. ¡°Come on, you know what would happen if I did. You wouldn¡¯t be able to get anything out of it anyway, and they wouldn¡¯t trust me again. Which would be bad if something like this happened.¡±


    ¡°They are criminals,¡± Caishen pointed out mildly. She didn¡¯t really sound upset about any of this, more curious about how I would react to her words.


    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± I replied. ¡°But there¡¯s criminals and then there¡¯s criminals. As evidenced right here. We asked for help stopping an atrocity here, and they helped. We couldn¡¯t have found that guy and saved all the people in the stadium without them. Pack and Broadway came to help make sure there wasn¡¯t a complete massacre here.¡±


    Brumal sounded curious. ¡°And you say Grandstand was just tagging along and you didn¡¯t even know about it?¡±


    I coughed before shrugging. There was no reason not to tell the full truth on that front. ¡°She said she¡¯s trying to find someone who killed a friend of hers, and she thinks that one of the people who was trying out for the Scions is that person. I guess she thought Jason could give her more information. You know, since they¡¯re both supposedly trying out. Now she¡¯s after that Jennica girl.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as the three adults turned to look at one another. Only belatedly did I realize they weren¡¯t just looking. They were conferring with some sort of Touched-Tech that was silencing their voices so we couldn¡¯t hear, but they could. Convenient, that.


    Once more, I looked at the rest of the group. They were clearly exhausted. I knew I sure was. But this whole thing could¡¯ve ended up a lot worse. It had been sheer luck that Peyton had started to follow me when I followed Riddles, and another bit of luck that I had decided not to push the issue to send her back. And her randomly spotting what she thought was a raccoon but turned out to be a dog, leading us to the room where those managers were tied up so they could tell us about Jennica and how she had to have line of sight to use her powers¡­ yeah, we had gotten lucky. A bit too lucky, honestly. It felt like that dog had led us there, but I couldn¡¯t think of who would have been responsible for that.


    In any case, all of that led to us being able to set our trap to catch Jennica. Which, even if it hadn¡¯t lasted, was probably the only reason the situation had ended as well as it did. Not that her getting away was great, but still. Now we knew she was a threat, and had an idea of what she could do for the most part. And boy was it a lot. She had kind of struck gold when it came to powers. If she did end up joining the Scions, we would all be in deep trouble. As bad as she already was all by herself, I had no doubt that Pencil could put her to even worse things. We had to find her and make sure that didn¡¯t happen.


    Well, in this case, I supposed that would be up to Grandstand and Broadway, and maybe Pack if she helped out. And who was I kidding? Of course she was going to help out.


    Shaking that off, I looked back to the trio of adults just as Silversmith spoke again. ¡°Right, first of all, apologies are in order. While we had no way of knowing that this would happen just as everything in the city¡­ ahh, went wrong, we did fail in one major way.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Brumal put in, ¡°we didn¡¯t provide you with an authorization code. It¡¯s a phrase you can speak to a 911 operator, or anyone like that, to prove that you are who you say you are. All sanctioned teams have them, and Paintball should have had it a long time ago. We dropped the ball there.¡±


    Caishen made a noise in the back of her throat. ¡°I should have pressed the issue before. I never thought everything would happen at once, and I should have anticipated it.¡± She heaved a long sigh before looking at my father. ¡°You¡¯re going to rectify that now?¡±


    He gave a firm nod. ¡°Of course.¡± Looking straight at me once more, he added, ¡°Your code is going to be ¡®pandas are always green.¡¯ That¡¯s the first letters from Paintball And Avant-Guard. PAAG. Pandas Are Always Green.¡± He repeated that again before having us repeat it as well.


    ¡°Memorize it, and make sure you always know what it is. Test each other on it. From now on, if any of you contact the authorities, even if you¡¯re not in costume, you can use that code.¡±


    Roald raised his hand until they were all looking at him. He sounded incredibly nervous to have all that attention from three of the most powerful and important Touched in the city focused on him, but forced out the words, ¡°Um, does that mean that every 911 operator is going to know that code and not just think we¡¯re saying gibberish things at them?¡±


    It was Brumal who answered. ¡°Not exactly. When we program that into the system, saying those words over a phone line will automatically transfer you to someone who does know what¡¯s going on. Then you can tell that person what you need and what¡¯s wrong, and they¡¯ll take you seriously.¡±


    Dad gave a short nod. ¡°And if you say them in person, the officer¡¯s own radio will alert him that a Star-Touched pass phrase has been used, and that he needs to take you seriously.¡±


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I could tell that Paige wanted to say something then, as did Sierra. But they were being quiet for the moment. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how it would go if they started drilling these guys with more questions, but it was probably a good idea for us to get through this as fast as possible. If nothing else, the sooner we got out of this place, the sooner we could all fall over. So, I turned back to my dad while carefully replying, ¡°Thanks for that.¡±


    ¡°As I said, we should¡¯ve done it before,¡± he replied. ¡°But at this point, I¡¯d say your team has more than earned it. That and a lot more. All those people who were stuck in the stadium today are alive because you acted. And yes, you worked with villains to do it, but sometimes that¡¯s what we have to do. Just like when they volunteer to help at a Collision Point. They receive temporary amnesty during that sort of encounter. I¡¯d say the same thing could easily apply here. You had no other recourse.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean we¡¯re not going to jail?¡± Murphy sounded like she was only half-kidding. I was pretty sure she expected to get in trouble, even after all we¡¯d done. Maybe even because of what we¡¯d done. She¡¯d muttered something earlier about how the authorities would probably be pissed about being shown up and blame us for it.


    Brumal gave an incredulous chuckle. ¡°Kid, after what you guys did here, we¡¯re the ones who should be in trouble, and you should be getting medals. Believe me, no one¡¯s going to hold working with those three against you. Especially not when it ended up with these results.¡± She paused then before clearly grimacing at a private thought. ¡°No one who matters, anyway.¡±


    Before I could respond to that, Paige raised her hand to point at Jason. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen to him now?¡±


    The others looked that way as well, before Silversmith replied, ¡°He won¡¯t be charged with what happened. There are provisions in the law for being controlled in some way by Touched powers when you commit a crime. But he¡¯s not going to be able to go home either. Even if that girl decides to leave him alone, which I doubt, it¡¯s pretty obvious that Pencil would see him as a resource. So he¡¯ll need to go somewhere else.¡±


    I blinked a couple times before asking, ¡°Are you going to put him in witness protection or something?¡±


    Caishen nodded. ¡°Something like that. Don¡¯t worry, he¡¯ll be safe. We know how to make someone disappear.¡±


    Boy, oh boy, could I have said a lot of things to that. But, I kept my mouth shut. I still wasn¡¯t sure if she was connected to the Ministry or not, so I had no idea if she knew just how good they really were at making people disappear. Dad misinterpreted my moment of silence, giving a soft chuckle once more. ¡°Okay, I think you¡¯ve had enough excitement for one day, all of you. Now, what was that code again?¡±


    We repeated it back to him, and he nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be testing you once in a while. But right now, I¡¯ve got some very confused and upset people to talk to.¡± He glanced at Caishen and added, ¡°You wanted to talk to them yourself?¡±


    She confirmed that, then the three of them had another silent conversation before my father created a silver stretcher under Jason and lifted him up with it so it could float behind them as they walked out, leaving just Caishen standing there. When the door closed, she exhaled long and hard. ¡°I know it was said before, but I am truly sorry that I wasn¡¯t able to answer your call. And that it took so long to get your messages. After everything I said to you about not going off on your own, and then I gave you no choice but to do just that.¡±


    I shrugged a bit awkwardly. ¡°It¡¯s not like you were maliciously ignoring us or anything. You had to deal with what was happening in the city.¡±


    Alloy immediately raised her hand. ¡°And, about that, what actually did happen in the city? What¡¯s going on back there?¡±


    So, after taking a deep breath, the woman told us what had been keeping everyone so busy. And boy had we missed a lot. Apparently Oscuro and the Ninety-Niners, whose alliance had been starting to fall apart, called a truce again and launched a full-scale attack against the Easy Eights in an attempt to split their territory down the middle. Except not really, because the Easy Eights had actually agreed to a truce with the Ninety-Niners. Which the latter had agreed to because they were angry at Oscuro for various not-very-well explained reasons.


    Basically, it meant that Cu¨¦lebre and his gang had attempted to drive deep into enemy territory, only to be ambushed not only by the people they were attacking and the gang that was supposed to be on their side, but also by a large portion of La Casa, as Blackjack wasn¡¯t about to give up the opportunity to get revenge on at least one of the gangs who pissed him off by trying to take advantage of his dying daughter situation.


    All of that would have been complicated enough, but then things apparently had gotten worse. Three of the Easy Eight lieutenants, Juice, Janus (Uncle Friendly and Mister Harmful), and Devil¡¯s Due, switched sides to join Oscuro. And they took a decent portion of their own people with them. Which meant that suddenly instead of being three gangs against one, it was two and a half gangs against one and a half. Which obviously wasn¡¯t enough to completely change things, but it wasn¡¯t good either. Especially given the fact that Devil¡¯s Due had announced his betrayal by using his power (the one that allowed him to focus on someone and make anything he said sound completely reasonable) to tell Sockinit to use his power to fuck with the guns and powers on their own side. It was hard to win a fight when your guns randomly wouldn¡¯t fire, or your powers suddenly stopped working. Not to mention someone had apparently set off some sort of teleportation bomb that sent Deicide halfway across the state, if the reports of her vanishing from the battlefield and then randomly showing up in Grand Rapids were accurate.


    And on top of everything else, Braintrust had attacked some science lab on the far side of the city, apparently taking advantage of the already stressed system. It sounded like the only gang who hadn¡¯t started or participated in World War Three the night before was Sherwood. And I honestly didn¡¯t trust that they wouldn¡¯t feel left out and decide to blow some stuff up themselves pretty soon. After all, the day wasn¡¯t over just yet.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Murphy finally managed once the story was done. ¡°No wonder you guys were busy.¡±


    Caishen coughed. ¡°Yes, well, that happens sometimes. As it stands now, the fighting seems to have run its course. We¡¯ll have to see how the territory changes go, but it seems that Oscuro has not only managed to gain three new Touched to replace the two they¡¯ve lost recently in Handler and Grandstand, but also drove the Easy Eights to retreat. We have no idea how that squares with Oscuro¡¯s rule of only allowing Hispanic gang members, but they already made an exception for Grandstand, so¡­ who knows.¡±


    She offered a shrug to go with her uncertain words before continuing. ¡°The civil war that those three lieutenants splitting off caused screwed up the rest of their people pretty badly. They never did manage to rally. Seems whoever was left to take control after Deicide was teleported away decided backing off after that happened was the best call. Which left La Casa and the Ninety-Niners facing Cu¨¦lebre and his new, bigger gang. That was a mess. But it seems to have calmed down for the moment. Now, who the hell knows what¡¯s going to happen over the next few days? If I had to guess, I¡¯d say the Easy Eights¨Cor should that be Easy Fives? Either way, they¡¯ll probably lose half their territory and about that many of their people by the time it all shakes out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised Blackjack agreed to a truce with the Ninety-Niners to begin with,¡± I murmured. ¡°He was as pissed at them as he was at Oscuro, last I knew.¡±


    ¡°Apparently Sandon apologized for what happened with his daughter,¡± Caishen informed us. ¡°She wanted to end the fighting. That¡¯s what our people were able to piece together, anyway. And as part of that, she agreed to monetary compensation as well as a deal with Blood Covenant.¡±


    That made me do a double-take. ¡°Blood Covenant? They¡¯re here?¡±


    ¡°One of their representatives was,¡± came the flat reply. ¡°As we said, today was very eventful.¡±


    The others were all reacting with just as much surprise as me. Which was understandable, given what we¡¯d just heard. Blood Covenant was an international Sell-Touched organization. Their leader and founder was a man named Solon, whose power was¡­ well, the blood covenant. Essentially, his blood itself had power. Whenever someone wrote something using that blood, Solon was able to tell from that point forward if that person ever violated what they wrote. If they wrote that they would jump three times every morning at precisely eight am, and three years later they didn¡¯t jump right then, Solon would know. He didn¡¯t even have to be there for his power to be used that way. It just required his blood.


    Yeah, it was a weird power. And there were several other things he could do with his blood. But either way, it had allowed him to create one of the largest and most successful Sell-Touched organizations in the world. His people knew that anyone who signed up with them couldn¡¯t turn around and backstab them without Solon knowing about it. They tended to send representatives with vials of his blood to write up short contracts for this sort of thing. If you violated your agreement, you¡¯d end up with a Blood Covenant detachment showing up to express their displeasure.


    ¡°What was the contract she signed?¡± Paige asked, clearly just as curious as I was. If not more.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Caishen informed us. ¡°Not exactly. But it sounds like it was enough to make Blackjack agree to a truce with her and the rest of the Ninety-Niners. Probably something about working together and never trying to fuck him over again. Pardon me, screw him over again.¡± She shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day. And now I feel that yours should be over. All of you head home. You¡¯ve done far more than enough. We¡¯ll contact you again later. And thank you. Thank all of you for making sure this wasn¡¯t a hell of a lot worse than it ended up being. There¡¯s a van on the east side of the parking lot that will take you anywhere you¡¯d like to go back in the city.¡±


    So, we left. Together, our little group made our way out of the stadium. Before we could look for that van, however, a certain noise caught our attention. It was some sort of roar. All of us snapped upright and turned, only to find ourselves facing a mob of people. They were being held back by police tape and uniformed officers, but as soon as they spotted us, the shouting began.


    No, not shouting. Cheering. The people were applauding, screaming, waving their hands, clapping¡­ They were cheering. They were thanking us, all of us.


    ¡°Guys,¡± I found myself murmuring dully as we all just stood flatfooted staring at the enormous crowd of cheering onlookers, ¡°I think it just hit me.


    ¡°We¡¯re sorta superheroes.¡±

 Schooling 24-02

    Once we made our way out of there and over to the van that, as promised, was waiting, the driver took us back into the city. We had the man drop us off a few blocks away from the shop, and thanked him for the lift. Then, once he drove off, we moved into the nearby alley and all of us practically collapsed against the nearby walls to look at each other. The drive had been a nice chance to sit for a bit, but we hadn¡¯t really relaxed there, not with that guy around.


    ¡°Man,¡± Murphy announced while slumping down to sit on the ground, ¡°I feel like I could sleep for a week. And my hand won¡¯t stop shaking. Is that normal?¡±


    Sitting next to her, Roald shook his head. ¡°My hands are just fine, but my knee won¡¯t stop moving. See?¡± He gestured as his leg bounced erratically. ¡°Seriously, it¡¯s like I¡¯m exhausted, but I sort of feel like I want to run a marathon. I could close my eyes and fall asleep right here, or my brain could keep me up all night. My body¡¯s ready to fall apart, but¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s adrenaline,¡± Paige advised him. ¡°That¡¯ll wear off. You¡¯ll want to get back home and in your bed before that happens. Otherwise you really might end up sleeping in an alley. And that¡¯s not as fun as it sounds, believe me.¡±


    With a nod, Peyton put in, ¡°Yeah, and speaking of sleeping in an alley, if I don¡¯t get home, my mom is really gonna freak out.¡± She looked over at Murphy and Roald. ¡°I¡¯ll give you guys a ride if you want.¡±


    They agreed with that, and we arranged to meet and talk about things the next day. Then those three headed off together, while I focused on Sierra and Paige. ¡°Well,¡± I started, ¡°at least we stopped that whole thing. I mean, sure, that evil chick is still running around out there trying to impress the Scions, but this whole thing could¡¯ve been a hell of a lot worse.¡±


    The two of them exchanged glances before Sierra spoke up. ¡°Yeah, it sure could¡¯ve.¡± Turning back toward me, she added, ¡°Which is why we decided something on the way back here.¡±


    ¡°You decided something?¡± I asked while looking back-and-forth between them. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you guys even said a single word to each other that whole drive.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t have to physically talk,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°Remember, we have Wi-Fi. We set up our own private chat server and talked there. We can add you guys in, so you can join the chat room on your phone or computer. That way, we can all stay in contact.¡±


    ¡°Wait hold on,¡± I interrupted, ¡°is that whole ¡®we have Wi-Fi¡¯ thing a joke? Because I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s not the most secure thing for you guys to be talking about private stuff on. Especially if it was Wi-Fi inside a government van.¡±


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± Sierra informed me. ¡°It¡¯s not a joke because we really can connect to Wi-Fi if we want to. But we also have our own private network. Trust me when I say, it¡¯s secure. The version we were using in the van is short-range, line of sight communication. The signal went from me to her and back again. On top of that, it¡¯s all encrypted. They¡¯d have to literally be one of us to understand it. We¡¯ll have to fix up your devices so they can connect to it, and when you do, you won¡¯t exactly find a bunch of fun websites. But at least we¡¯ll all be able to use our little chat room to stay in contact.¡±


    ¡°Okay, right, cool.¡± Nodding slowly, I murmured, ¡°So you¡¯ve got this secure little chat room for just the two of you, and you¡¯re gonna let us into your clubhouse so we can all keep up with each other in a way that doesn¡¯t involve normal texting.¡±


    Paige straightened while looking down the alley as she confirmed, ¡°That¡¯s about the size of it. Obviously, when you guys use it, you¡¯ll be going through the regular internet. But it¡¯ll still be secure. A hell of a lot more secure than ordinary phone texting, anyway. Add that into using phones your parents don¡¯t know about and that¡¯s about as safe as we can be. We¡¯ll make sure the program we add to your stuff looks like something innocent, and wipes anything incriminating if anyone pokes at it.¡±


    ¡°Right, sounds good to me,¡± I managed. Hell if I knew anything about the details. If they said it would be safe, I believed them. Which was an odd feeling coming from the whole Paige direction. But I shoved that thought out of my mind and asked, ¡°So, what was this decision you guys were talking about before we got off on that little tangent?¡±


    Once more, the two of them exchanged glances before turning back to me. Paige started, ¡°Like you said, that situation could¡¯ve gone a lot worse. And there¡¯s going to be more like it. Jennica is still out there. She¡¯s trying to hook up with the Scions, who don¡¯t really like you very much. So they won¡¯t like any of us very much. To say nothing of all the other bad guys out there.¡±


    ¡°Including our father,¡± Sierra put in. ¡°We still have to get Irelyn and that Trivial chick out of there.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Paige agreed. ¡°But if we¡¯re¨C that is if you¡¯re all going to survive all that, you need real training. Or you¡¯re just gonna die.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get us wrong,¡± Sierra put in, ¡°with your powers, you¡¯re pretty awesome. And, you know, it¡¯s obvious you¡¯ve had a little self-defense practice. You know how to punch someone. But you need more than that. A lot more. And so do the others. I just started to like you guys a little bit, so I¡¯d rather not watch you get murdered. You¡¯re all a lot more fragile than we are. And we can¡¯t exactly go shoving the lot of you into more biolem orbs and bodies¡­ yet.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Paige finished while I was giving Sierra a double-take, ¡°we¡¯re going to start teaching all of you how to fight. Really fight, I mean. We¡¯re going to train you so that you¡¯re not completely helpless without your powers.¡±


    Sierra coughed. ¡°Well, let¡¯s be honest, you¡¯d still be in pretty bad shape without any power. I mean, come on, look at us, you and me. We¡¯re like five foot nothing and, what, a hundred pounds? If I didn¡¯t have enhanced biolem-strength, I¡¯m not completely sure my foot wouldn¡¯t snap off if I kicked a ball.¡±


    Grimacing, I retorted, ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. But yeah, you¡¯ve got a point. I mean, about us needing to train. Do you really think you two can help with that?¡±


    Paige gestured pointedly. ¡°We might as well put what Pittman programmed into us to good use. And the very best use I can think of for it is teaching all of you how to survive long enough to kick his ass and get Irelyn and Trivial off that island.¡± With a shrug, she added, ¡°Besides,  with the way you make a habit of pissing people off in this city, you need all the survival training you can get. And so does anyone who¡¯s planning on spending time with you.¡±


    My mouth opened as I raised a finger, before pausing. ¡°I¡­ yeah, okay, that¡¯s fair. So, sure, that sounds like a plan to me. Or a goal, at least. If you guys want to designate yourselves our official trainers or whatever, feel free. You¡¯re right about us needing all the help we can get. Seems like everything out there is getting more dangerous, not less. And you¡¯re not the only ones who don¡¯t want to see anything happen to anyone else in this team now that we just started to¨Cuh, be a team.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll work something up,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°But right now, you should get some rest. Do you want help getting home?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°No, that¡¯s cool. I¡¯ll be fine. You guys head back to the shop.¡± She had been staying there with Sierra, even though they were both mobile and in separate bodies now.


    ¡°Actually,¡± the girl who was my doppelganger under that mask informed me, ¡°we¡¯re gonna head to the Banners¡¯ house, considering no one¡¯s there right now. Not even any staff. And since the Ministry already interrogated Paige¨C¡±


    That made me do an almost violent double-take, while reflexively painting half a dozen question marks across my chest and helmet. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, the Ministry did what?¡±


    Sierra gave a look toward Paige, her voice reproachful. ¡°I thought you said you were going to tell her.¡±


    ¡°I was,¡± Paige confirmed, ¡°but then we got a little busy. The zombie baseball apocalypse was distracting.¡± Looking at me, she insisted, ¡°It wasn¡¯t a big deal. One of their agents talked to me earlier today, before we met up for all this. He wanted to know where I¡¯ve been, and if I knew anything about Irelyn¡¯s disappearance. I told him my dad was paranoid about something and took my mother and me on a bunch of increasingly stupid retreats. And I said that I finally convinced him to let me come home so I could go back to school, but when I got here, Irelyn had already left to go find us. I don¡¯t know where they are now, and I don¡¯t know where she is either.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Absorbing all that quietly, I finally asked the most important question, ¡°Do you think he believed you?¡±


    Paige considered, though I was absolutely certain it was something she¡¯d already thought about a lot. ¡°If I didn¡¯t, I would have brought it up sooner. They¡¯re covering their bases. They know I was adopted by the Banners, and that I disappeared with them, then two of the local Star-Touched, one of whom happens to be the daughter the Banners bought me to replace after she pissed them off, disappeared too. Between that and me knowing about the Ministry, I would¡¯ve thought something was wrong if they didn¡¯t have a discussion with me. Mostly they wanted to know if Aaron Banners knew anything about them. So I told them I was pretty sure that¡¯s not why he¡¯s paranoid, and that he said something about business competitors and maybe Japan, or China or something. I kept it vague enough.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Sierra put in, ¡°they¡¯ve got other things to worry about right now.¡±


    ¡°Right, our break-in secret is conveniently distracting them from peering too hard at our other secrets.¡± Snorting at that, I added, ¡°Speaking of which, we need to decide what gang to hit next as our other-selves. Err, our other-other-selves. You know what I mean. If we¡¯re gonna keep up the facade about there being some other group out there robbing them, we need to do it again.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll workshop that,¡± Paige agreed before flatly adding, ¡°later. Right now, you really need to sleep. You¡¯re swaying a lot more than you think you are right now.¡±


    She had a point, as much as I hated to admit it. It felt like there were still a dozen things I should be doing right then, but I really was incredibly tired after everything that had happened. So, with a heavy sigh, I nodded. ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll head home and get some sleep. Just promise me that you guys are going to be careful.¡±


    Sierra coughed again and smirked at me after taking the mask off. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna get caught by your parents, trust me. It¡¯s all cool, twin.¡± Her head tilted as she looked at Paige, then back to me. ¡°Have you guys ever thought about how weird it is that I¡¯m technically the twin of both of you in different ways?¡±


    Staring right back at her, I replied dryly, ¡°Believe me, it¡¯s come to mind.¡±


    With that, I left the two of them and began to race-paint my way across the city. The chaos had thoroughly died down by the time we got back here in the van, as the gangs had all gone back to their own respective corners to lick their wounds and reassess their current situations. So, I had the city pretty much to myself. It was after curfew, and the emergency services were busy cleaning up various messes, or just recuperating themselves. I saw a few faces in windows waving or calling out greetings at me as I passed, so I waved back. One guy leaned out a nearby window entirely and shouted my name. Well, my Touched name anyway. When I stopped and looked, he waved a baseball bat while cupping his other hand against his mouth to shout, ¡°Could you sign this!? Come on, I wanna give it to my kid!¡±


    Well, what was I supposed to say to that? I launched myself that way and planted my knees against the wall next to his window after landing. ¡°Hey there! What¡¯s your name? And your kid¡¯s name?¡±


    The man, a blonde guy in his forties with a neatly trimmed beard, beamed cheerfully. ¡°Name¡¯s Kyle. My son¡¯s name is Edgar. Yeah, I know, but it was his mom¡®s choice. She named him after her great uncle. Tried to go with Eddie, but the kid insists it¡¯s Edgar. He¡¯s nine. Just starting Little League.¡±


    Taking the bat as he offered it to me, I touched the side and instantly inscribed the words, ¡®Hey Edgar, hope you smash a homerun so hard the bat breaks and I have to sign another one ¨C Paintball.¡¯ It took up most of the length of one side.


    Grinning as he saw what I had written, Kyle thanked me profusely and asked if I minded if he took a quick picture so he could prove it was real to his son. I agreed, and he leaned back in the window while holding the phone up so he could take a picture of us together.


    With that done, I gave him a thumbs up before launching myself away from the wall once more. As I was flying through the air, he called after me, ¡°Oh, shit, thanks for what your new team did at that ballgame! I meant to say that!¡±


    Laughing, I turned over in the air to wave at him, using yellow paint to slow myself for that long. Then I landed on a lamppost and immediately used blue to hurl myself upward once more. The adrenaline was running low. I needed to get home, fall into my bed, and just die for awhile.


    Which, of course, was the thought that I had just as another figure caught my eye. This one was waving too, as I launched myself over another building. But it was waving from the roof, rather than from a window. And that wasn¡¯t the only odd thing about it. The waiting figure wore a nice suit that looked like it belonged at one of those fancy millionaire dinner parties my parents liked to go to. It definitely wasn¡¯t the suit of a man who would normally have been standing on top of an old used tire shop. Oh, then there was the fact that the man wasn¡¯t a man at all. It was a bear. A literal bear, as in the furry animal, stood on its hind legs, wearing a perfectly tailored suit, waving at me.


    Okay, either I had been dosed with something, I was even more tired than I thought I was, to the point of being delirious, or that was a TONI. Wait, a bear in a suit. I¡¯d thought I saw a bear in a suit back at the stadium! Wait a minute, was this¡­ was this someone new? I wasn¡¯t sure. I¡¯d definitely never heard of a bear TONI in Detroit. But either way, it certainly got my attention. Especially since it meant I hadn¡¯t been seeing things back when all that was going on.


    So, making sure I had enough paint on me to protect myself and get out of there if something went wrong, I used a shot of red to yank myself down that way. Landing smoothly, I straightened up and stared at the bear. Yeah, nothing had changed. From up close, that suit looked even more expensive. I¡¯d seen a lot of fancy clothing in my time, even if I didn¡¯t tend to wear much of it myself. I¡¯d been in the sort of stores where these suits were sold, and I knew this one was top of the line. I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if it had its own Touched-Tech enhancements for protection. Those expensive ones tended to have bullet-proofing and even fire-protection, that sort of thing.


    And this wasn¡¯t just any bear. He was enormous, standing what had to be nine feet tall and impressively built, a fact that was apparent even under that suit. He looked like he could take my head off with a casual swat.


    After looking the bear up and down briefly, I hesitantly started by raising my hand in a wave. ¡°Uh, hello? Did I¡­ did I see you earlier? Back at the stadium. I thought I saw¡­ but then¡­¡±


    ¡°Ah, good evening, Paintball,¡± the bear replied. His voice seemed to literally come from him, rather than an electric translator. Which wasn¡¯t always the case. Some TONIs could speak normally, others couldn¡¯t. ¡°Do you mind if we call you that?¡±


    ¡°Uh, to be honest, I¡¯m still not sure I¡¯m conscious right now and didn¡¯t just plow into a building to give myself a concussion,¡± I informed him with a shrug. ¡°But sure, I guess. If this is real, you should probably call me the same thing as everyone else.¡±


    The bear smiled, and it took me a moment to realize that he was trying to reassure me rather than be intimidating. Those teeth were very sharp. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, ¡° he rumbled politely, ¡°you¡¯re not in a coma and you¡¯re not dreaming. Or hallucinating. And yes, to answer your question, we were at the stadium earlier, attempting to provide what aid we could given the circumstances. I am called Fisher. We are Minister Gray.¡±


    Okay, that made me do a double-take. ¡°Wait, Minister? As in¨C¡±


    ¡°Part of the Ministry, yes,¡± came the response, while he held up both paws. ¡°But please, relax yourself, we are not here with any ill-intention. Rather, we wish to offer our thanks for your aid in maintaining relative peace within the city.¡±


    Regardless of his words, I reflexively took a step back and glanced around. ¡°Okay, you keep saying we, but I only see one of you. Wait, sorry, are you¨C¡±


    ¡°We are not plural,¡± the bear informed me. ¡°Not in the way you are thinking, anyway. But¨Cah, it is a bit complicated. Please, this is not a threat or an attack, though it will be a bit of a surprise.¡±


    Even as I opened my mouth to question that, there was a sudden burst of smoke right where the bear was, along with a glowing pyramid shape right in the center. I jumped backwards and brought my hands up despite his warning, but the smoke cleared to reveal that the bear was gone. Then a voice spoke up sharply. ¡°Hey, down here.¡±


    My gaze lowered promptly, until I saw a raccoon. Just like the bear, he was in a clearly-tailored suit. And yes, it looked completely goddamn adorable. The bear had been intimidating, but seeing this little raccoon in a suit made me want to pick him up and squeeze him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it, kid,¡± the raccoon snapped, clearly interpreting my body language. ¡°No hugging me, no picking me up. The name¡¯s Price. Like my partner was saying, we¡¯re Minister Gray. The short version is we Touched together, now we share space and take turns being on the outside. You don¡¯t get to know any more than that.¡±


    This was a lot for me to take in. My mouth opened and shut a couple times as I fought to work my way through the confusion before I managed, ¡°Wait, you were at the¨CI mean of course you were at the stadium too, but Alloy saw you!¡±


    ¡°She sure did,¡± Price the Raccoon retorted, ¡°cuz I wanted her to. How else were you supposed to find those hostages in time?¡±


    Absorbing that, I fumbled for a response before landing on, ¡°You guys are part of the Ministry?¡± Yeah, it was dumb, but I had to say something.


    ¡°That¡¯s right, and we came to thank you for putting aside any differences of opinion you might have with us. Getting that girl to call for help was the right thing to do,¡± he informed me. ¡°The situation back at that ballpark could¡¯ve been an outright massacre. But you accepted help from people others would call villains, and you requested help from us. That showed both initiative and forward thinking. It shows we might need to reevaluate a few things about you.¡±


    ¡°I uhh¡­ well, thanks, I guess.¡± What the hell was I supposed to say to that? ¡°But you could¡¯ve sent that message with someone who wouldn¡¯t attract this much attention. Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but something tells me you¡¯re not just here to say thank you. I don¡¯t think you would¡¯ve revealed yourself if that was it.¡±


    The raccoon smiled, showing his own teeth. ¡°Well, no, not exactly. But that was at the top of the list. We also hear you¡¯ve experienced a bit of a break-in from a set of masked¡­ intruders. We¡¯d like you to tell us exactly what happened, in detail.¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, right.¡± We had mentioned that to Glitch, of course, as part of maintaining our cover and making it look like Avant-Guard and the black-masked people who broke into the Ministry were different people. ¡°That might take awhile.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s quite alright,¡± came the response. ¡°We¡¯ve got all the time in the world.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯re not going anywhere until we hear that story.¡±

 Schooling 24-03

    Obviously, I had been through a lot of ridiculous things since I¡¯d Touched the orb that one night a couple months ago. It was pretty hard by this point to say that any single moment definitively topped all others as far as standing out went. But I was going to have to admit, standing on a rooftop in the middle of the night, giving our made-up story about how my friends and I had been robbed by a group that was actually us to a bear and raccoon who shared the same space and kept taking turns being physically present? Yeah, that was going up near the top of the list, at the very least.


    And, to be quite frank, it was probably pretty up there as far as being terrified went. So I had to hide that reaction as much as I could. I was standing here lying to what was apparently not only one (or two) of the Ministry¡¯s highest ranking people given they had the title of Minister, but one of them was probably capable of smacking my head clean off my shoulders. Yes, I had orange paint and all that, but still. Standing in front of a nine-foot tall bear, even if he was in an incredibly-tailored suit, while lying my ass off about something as important to the Ministry as who had robbed them¡­ it wasn¡¯t exactly my idea of a fun time.


    Still, at least we had planned out exactly what we were going to say about this. We¡¯d known that there would come a time when we had to tell the story, and that we might not all get to tell it together. If they asked us separately without any warning, we wanted to have our story straight. This way, whichever of us they talked to would say the same thing.


    In short, the story we¡¯d come up with, which I relayed to my alternatingly bear-raccoon interrogators, was that our group kept some supplies for Trevithick¡¯s work hidden in a few old sheds around the city. Sheds which we had rigged with alarms and other protection to keep the equipment safe. One day, we had been talking and practicing outside one of those sheds when we heard something moving inside. Opening it up, we found three black-masked figures starting to pull boxes over to a hole they¡¯d made in the floor. We were, quite understandably, surprised to see someone there. So they managed to throw some sort of flash bang thing before we could react. We chased them through the tunnel after recovering, but it simply led all the way to a large drainage ditch a couple blocks over, where we¡¯d lost them.


    ¡°But at least they only made off with a couple boxes worth of stuff,¡± I finished with a shrug. ¡°And we put cameras in our storage places now, believe me.¡±


    Price, the raccoon, was perched on top of one of those small metal smokestack things, rubbing his paws together thoughtfully as he regarded me. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you can show us where this other tunnel is so we can check for any other evidence?¡±


    Looking right back at him, I replied, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you can show me where your tunnel is?¡± As he lifted his chin in reaction, I added, ¡°I mean, that¡¯s why you showed up like this to ask these questions, right? These people broke into some place that was important to you, and now you¡¯re looking for any clues that could help you track them down. But something tells me you don¡¯t want to let the sharing thing go both ways.¡±


    There was a brief pause as he seemed to consider my words, before hopping down as the smoke and light burst appeared. The bear, Fisher, was back. ¡°You¡¯re ahh, you¡¯re right, we don¡¯t have the authority or permission to take you to that place. But we did hope that¨C¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± I interrupted before I could talk myself out of interrupting a bear, ¡°I get it. I know why you all want to stop these people. I mean, I may not know the whole story, but something tells me your whole secret gang doesn¡¯t really like the idea of another secret gang horning in on your territory. Trust me when I say you guys have a better chance of catching them than we do. But if, by some chance, we do happen to get them first, we¡¯ll be sending them to prison, not to you people. Don¡¯t take that the wrong way, it¡¯s just¡­ yeah.¡± It was important that I stick that bit about sending them to prison in there. It implied that I didn¡¯t know they could get to any prisoner quite easily, and I really wanted to obfuscate just how much I knew about the Ministry. Or just let them think I was that naive.


    ¡°We did get off on the wrong foot, didn¡¯t we?¡± Fisher noted while giving me a curious glance. He stepped backward, hunching down a bit. I had the feeling he was intentionally trying not to intimidate me. ¡°We heard our introduction to you was Squire carrying out an execution.¡±


    Squire. That name immediately leapt out to me, for more than one reason. First, he was obviously talking about my brother. That was Simon¡¯s name in the Ministry, Squire? And second, I¡¯d heard that name recently anyway. Back when we had been working out where Luciano was, Murphy had read a bit about how they were sending Squire instead of Plan Z to take care of something else, because Plan Z was busy. Simon was Squire.


    Absorbing all of that, I focused on the large bear in front of me, who was still doing his best to look unimposing. ¡°You mean when I wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, saw two people get shot in the heads, and then this Squire guy ordered his friends to kill me for being there? I¡¯d say that was more than one wrong foot. That was at least a wrong leg.¡±


    Fisher gave a slight nod, slumping down to a seated position there on the roof in front of me. ¡°Yes, very regrettable. We wish that had gone differently. If you like, we can answer questions, such as what exactly it was that you walked into that night.¡±


    Questions? Oh boy, yeah, I had a lot of those. And yet, ¡°How would I know you¡¯re telling the truth? I mean, I hate to sound like a broken record, but again, don¡¯t take that the wrong way. If you¡¯re gonna say those two people were pedophile rapists who got what was coming to them, I have no way of knowing if that¡¯s true or not.¡±


    With a poof of light and smoke, Price was back. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he agreed. ¡°You got no reason to believe anything we say. And we¡¯re obviously not about to be best friends here. Still, like we said before, we wanted to thank you for putting all that aside when it came to this zombie situation. Who knows, maybe someday we¡¯ll be able to laugh about all this tension.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I allowed with a little shrug. There was no sense in being needlessly hostile. Not only did I really want to avoid a fight right now, but I needed the Ministry to continue seeing me as not a threat. They knew that I knew a bit about them, and that I wasn¡¯t on their side. But as of right now, they also saw that I was willing to ask for their help, and I hadn¡¯t tried to go to the cops or anything. I wasn¡¯t an immediate problem they had to deal with, which meant I could potentially be an asset at some point in the future. I wanted them to keep thinking that. On the other hand, I was pretty sure they would be suspicious if I was too easy on them.


    To that end, I added, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d be willing to let me take this Squire guy to the cops so he can tell them the whole story about why he killed those people. You know, as part of laughing about everything in the future, once they accept his story and give him a pat on the back for doing such a service to the community?¡± My head tilted one way, then the other. ¡°No? Worth a shot.¡±


    There was a snort from the small raccoon, before he replied, ¡°Sorry, that probably won¡¯t happen. Not unless Squire¡­ let¡¯s say, screws up very badly.¡±


    Yeah, there was a lot I was tempted to say about that too, but about ninety-eight percent of it would¡¯ve given away far too much about who I was. So, I simply shrugged once more. ¡°In that case, I should probably get out of here. I mean, it¡¯s been pretty cool, talking to a bear and raccoon at all, let alone a bear and raccoon who keep switching places. I feel like it¡¯d be fun to hang out sometime. Maybe go see a movie. But right now, I¡¯m basically asleep on my feet. Seriously, remember that whole ¡®saving a stadium full of people from a bunch of fiery zombie monsters¡¯ thing? You were there to see how awesome we were. But being awesome takes energy, so I need to go home.¡±


    With a slight chuckle, Price waved a paw, which gave me a nice look at his claws and reminded me that just because he wasn¡¯t as big as his partner didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t still be dangerous. ¡°Sure thing, kid. And might I just say, you took talking to a raccoon and bear who keep swapping places better than a lot of people might¡¯ve.¡±


    Speaking dryly, I replied, ¡°Well, you did make it clear that my first impulse to hug you was a bad idea, and my second impulse to ask for a selfie probably wasn¡¯t much better. You don¡¯t seem like the type of guys who want to have your picture out there, considering I would¡¯ve heard about you otherwise.¡±


    Fisher returned, swapping places with Price before giving me a short nod. ¡°Those are some good instincts. Maybe they¡¯ll take you a long way. But ahh, as far as hugs go, I will note that I am much more open to the concept than my partner.¡±


    My mouth opened, before I paused, looking him up and down. Then I shrugged, ¡°Mmmmaybe we should hold off on the hug until a second meeting. But there¡¯s something¡­. else that could be cool.¡± With that, I told him what I was thinking.


    Absorbing the request, Fisher made what sounded like a low chuckle. ¡°You are an odd and fascinating boy, Paintball. And yes, perhaps we¡¯ll see you again sometime. We know we can¡¯t tell you not to tell any of your friends about us, if you¡¯ve said anything about the Ministry already¡­¡± He trailed off, as though waiting briefly to see if I would react at all. When I didn¡¯t, he just carried on. ¡°But just know that if word gets out about us, or anything else, we know how to track it back. So be careful. And that goes for everything else you know about our group. Discretion is the better part of valor, and valor keeps everyone happy.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Promising the bear that I would keep that in mind, I added, ¡°About that request?¡±


    His eyes widened just a little. ¡°You were serious about¨Cah¡­ well yes, I believe we can accommodate that, if you are certain.¡± With that, he extended one arm, waiting expectantly.


    Some part of my brain was asking if I was crazy, rather vehemently. I ignored that part (it was used to that), and stepped that way. Pausing, I pointed and coated both of his arms with purple paint before turning around. Fisher reached down, and I felt his enormous paws close around either side of my waist. Without any apparent effort whatsoever, he hoisted me up in the air. ¡°You are certain about this.¡±


    In response, I gave him a thumbs up while activating the paint I¡¯d given him. ¡°Let¡¯s light this candle!¡±


    There was a brief pause, before Fisher leaned back, holding me out over his head, almost horizontal to the ground. Then he snapped upright with a roar, and hurled me out over the city. Between his natural bear strength, the Touched-based increase I was pretty sure he already had, and the boost I¡¯d given him, I was sent flying over the rooftops with a loud scream that was half-terror and half-exhilaration escaped me. Several seconds in, and the scream turned to a laugh. I was sailing past several buildings, tumbling head over heels through the air. I was dizzy, in the middle of some terrifying mixture of flying and falling, and it was absolutely amazing.


    Just before I would have splatted against the side of a building, I managed to right myself, using orange paint on my legs, and a shot of blue against the wall so I could simply bounce off it, maintaining my momentum through another couple jumps and a shot of red that sent me sailing freely over the next roof. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck this was fast!


    I wanted to do it again. But I had a feeling they wouldn¡¯t be there if I went back. So, I let my speed gradually slow so I could get my bearings once more.


    What did it mean, exactly, that Ministers Gray had shown themselves to me? Was it just that they were testing how I would react and whether word of their existence would leak out? Obviously, just like Fisher had said, if they showed themselves to me and then rumors of a bear-raccoon joint TONI started going around town, it wouldn¡¯t be hard to figure out what happened. But was that the only reason they made a point of letting me see and talk to them, or was there something else? Were they trying to make me think there could be trust between us or something? I¡­ I didn¡¯t know.


    What I did know was that I needed to get home and sleep, before I ended up crashing right into a wall or falling off the edge of a roof. Though to be fair, either one would result in me not being conscious anymore. Which was sort of like sleeping.


    But hey, at least I probably wouldn¡¯t have to worry about being turned into a murder-zombie if that happened. So we had accomplished something today.


    ******


    The next morning was Thursday, May 14th. When I¡¯d gotten home the night before, Izzy had already been asleep in her bed. I took just enough time to check on her, then crashed into my own bed and slept until the alarm went off for school. Then I dragged myself through the shower and was just getting dressed in my room when the intercom buzzed to let me know she was out there. So, I let her in and the two of us took a few minutes to talk about what had happened the night before. She¡¯d had just as much excitement as me, given the whole Cu¨¦lebre situation.


    ¡°So now he¡¯s pissed at you too?¡± I asked while nudging her as we sat on the edge of my bed. ¡°You know you didn¡¯t have to do that just to be like me, right? Actually, imitating me in general is just a bad idea all around.¡±


    Audibly snorting, the other girl lightly kicked my leg. ¡°I wasn¡¯t imitating you. He was gonna hurt Whamline, so I had to spray him down. You know, as a distraction.¡± After a brief pause, she grimaced. ¡°But uhh, yeah, I don¡¯t think he likes me very much right now.¡± That said, she turned my way and poked me in the arm harder than she had kicked me. ¡°What about Broadway¡¯s sister? She¡¯s still out there, and she¡¯s gonna be even more mad at you than Cu¨¦lebre is at¡­ uh, both of us?¡± Squirming a bit, Izzy added, ¡°Plus, she wants to get into the Scions, and they hate you too.¡±


    ¡°Pretty sure they hate both of us,¡± I pointed out mildly, even as my face twisted a bit. ¡°But yeah, she¡¯s probably gonna be a problem. We know she¡¯s out there now though, and so do the good guys. And the Ministry. It¡¯s gonna be hard for her to show her face out there very much. Not that that solves the problem or anything, just¡­ yeah, we¡¯ll keep our eyes open. And uhh, keep watching for bears and raccoons.¡±


    She blinked at that, then stared and listened with an open mouth while I explained about meeting the Ministers Gray. When I was done, she took a moment to make sure I wasn¡¯t pulling her leg, then sank back a bit, absorbing all of it. Finally, she murmured a soft. ¡°Wow.¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Wow about sums it up, yeah. I guess they want to see what I do with that sort of information. It¡¯s definitely a test, and¡­ I think also a sort of threat. But we can handle tests and threats, right?


    ¡°Right,¡± she agreed before pushing herself up. ¡°But you know what¡¯s gonna be an even bigger threat if we don¡¯t move?¡±


    ¡°Jefferson,¡± I confirmed, hopping up after her. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. We better get down there, or he¡¯ll kill us before Jennica even has the chance to try.¡±


    So, the two of us had a quick breakfast before joining Jefferson for the drive to our schools. We talked about ordinary girl stuff on the way, to the point that I was pretty sure poor Jefferson¡¯s ears practically started to bleed. Which I felt a little bad for, but hey, anything to make sure he¡¯d report that there was absolutely nothing interesting going on with us.


    In any case, I eventually found myself at school, where I took a waiting Amber for a walk around the back field for her turn with the whole catching up thing. She apologized for not being able to get there, and for not even being around when the rest of the Star-Touched showed up.


    ¡°They took us straight to the clubhouse, then had our parents pick us up,¡± she was saying while we studied some graffiti on the side of one of the football goalposts. ¡°I mean, they promised your situation was already taken care of, but I still¡­ you know.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I mean, like I said to your¡­¡± Briefly, I made a point of looking at my phone. ¡°Seventeen text messages, we¡¯re good. We were safe.¡±


    Her gaze met mine as she bumped her fist into my shoulder. ¡°Sure, if you count adding another pissed off enemy to your ongoing list as being safe.¡± She tried to make it sound teasing before visibly sobering. ¡°Look, just be careful, okay?¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry,¡± I assured the girl, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t wanna be eaten by a bear.¡± Letting that hang for a moment as she stared at me trying to figure out if that was some sort of strange figure of speech, I finally snorted and explained the situation. Which meant I was treated to my second ¡®person staring open-mouthed at me while trying to figure out if I was screwing with them¡¯ of the past hour.


    Finally, Amber rocked backward on her heels. ¡°Oh. I mean¡­ oh. Wow. Well, either they¡¯re sharing information with you because they don¡¯t think you¡¯re a problem¡­¡±


    ¡°Or because they¡¯re planning on making sure I¡¯m not,¡± I finished, feeling a slightly queasy sensation run through me before pushing that aside. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s that first one.¡±


    Amber sighed. ¡°I hope so. You¡¯ve got enough people angry at you as it is.¡±


    ¡°You know, people keep saying that,¡± I pointed out. ¡°But the way I see it, if I get enough people pissed at me, when they do make a move, they¡¯ll all run into each other, start a fight, and then I can escape unscathed. Like those cartoons where the whole group dog-piles the guy and he just crawls out from under the dust cloud and walks away.¡± My eyebrows waggled pointedly while she stared at me. ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°You should probably go back to the drawing board and come up with a better plan,¡± Amber replied flatly. Her mouth opened to add something else, before looking past my shoulder as she adjusted to call out, ¡°Hey, Jae, what¡¯s up?¡±


    Sure enough, Jae was approaching. She had on a wide-brimmed hat as well as sunglasses, and was clearly wearing sunscreen to protect her delicate skin. And even then, I was pretty sure she wouldn¡¯t stay outside for very long. She also stayed silent until she was right next to us, before finally offering a slight smile our way while speaking softly. ¡°Morning. Would¡­¡± She hesitated, clearly wanting to ask something but apparently uncomfortable with it.


    ¡°What is it, Jae?¡± Amber prompted. ¡°It¡¯s okay, you can tell us. Unless you wanna just talk to one of us?¡± She glanced to me, looking slightly uncertain. Or possibly uncomfortable.


    ¡°Oh yeah, sure. Sorry.¡± Holding up both hands to assure them it was okay, I started to say I would see them inside. For all I knew, Jae wanted to talk to Amber about stuff involving her being That-A-Way and didn¡¯t realize that I already knew that. Hell, I didn¡¯t know if Jae knew that. It was a weird situation. The two of them were friends, but that didn¡¯t mean she definitely knew, and even if she did, I didn¡¯t necessarily want her to know that I knew because that could lead to figuring out who I was, and then¨Cyeah. It was a whole thing.


    Before I could head off, however, Jae quickly spoke up. ¡°I¨Cuh, actually I was¡­ wondering if you both could take notes for me today. I have a¡­ doctor¡¯s appointment. I mean, Amber in the classes we have and¡­ and Cassidy in the classes we have that I don¡¯t have with Amber. I¨Cthat is¨C¡±


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± I assured her before she could fumble on with that. ¡°No problem. Doctor¡¯s appointment, huh? Everything cool?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she confirmed while glancing out toward the parking lot. ¡°Dad just wants me to get a check-up since he¡¯s back in town. He was just working on some movie with this contagion outbreak, and¡­ it made him paranoid. So Kella¡¯s gonna drive me over there.¡±


    I rarely heard Jae say much, so this was practically a whole speech by her standards. Which made me once again think she must¡¯ve been feeling awkward about the whole Amber being That-A-Way thing. But that wasn¡¯t a discussion I could get into right then, so I just let it go and promised again to take notes for her. Amber did the same, and then Jae headed off.


    ¡°She knows, doesn¡¯t she?¡± I started quietly after watching the girl leave.


    Amber seemed to jump a bit, turning back my way. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°About you being Touched, I mean,¡± I clarified. ¡°Err, sorry, I probably shouldn¡¯t have said anything. It¡¯s just, that was a little awkward right there, like she wanted to say something but didn¡¯t. Or¡­ something.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Amber gave a slight nod. ¡°Uh, yeah. She knows. But she doesn¡¯t know anything about you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s probably why it was awkward,¡± I noted, shaking my head before starting to walk to the school building itself. ¡°This whole situation is just weird sometimes, you know?¡±


    Muttering something about me having no idea, the other girl followed. The two of us were just heading inside, when I glanced toward the parking lot. There, I saw Jae getting into the passenger seat of some random car. At first, I thought it was her stepmother giving her that ride she was talking about, but the driver was a man. One that I belatedly recognized.


    Okay, so if Jae¡¯s stepmother was supposed to be taking her to the doctor, why was she getting into a car with that Damarko Myers guy? Wait, hold on¡­


    Did¡­ did Jae have a secret boyfriend?

 Commissioned Interlude 11 - Civ-Touched

    With a grunt, a dark-skinned man shut off the engine of his old pick-up truck in the dirt parking lot near a construction site, and leaned over to open his lunch pail in the passenger seat so he could toss in the Snickers bar he had picked up at the gas station while filling up. Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, he took a moment to admire his thick mustache, checked his receding hairline, and once again pondered simply shaving it all off, then looked up at the sound of another man calling his name in the distance.


    ¡°Troy! You coming?¡± The speaker was a pale figure with twig-like limbs, a slightly pronounced gut, and long, red hair that was tied into a tight braid in order to keep it out of any machinery. He wore a hard hat and overalls, while idly waving a saw back and forth in his hand several times. To one side, three glowing blue energy constructs shaped like identical saws followed the same motion.


    Grunting an agreement, Troy Garey picked up his coffee and got out of his truck before stretching his arms up over his head. The lunch pail he had just tossed the candy bar into floated into the air behind him and began to follow, accompanied by a hard hat that had been lying on the floor. The latter settled itself onto Troy¡¯s head even as he joined his partner. ¡°Yeah, yeah, Cooper, I¡¯m here. The party can get started.¡±


    Troy and Cooper were each what were known as Civ-Touched. While Star-Touched, Fell-Touched, and even Sell-Touched dressed up in costumes to run around playing superhero, villain, and mercenary respectively, Civ-Touched didn¡¯t bother with that sort of stuff. Well, they didn¡¯t make an ongoing habit of it, anyway. For the most part, they used their powers to do regular jobs. Or rather, to make regular jobs easier and more efficient. Some maintained identity-concealing ¡®costumes¡¯ mostly to avoid being hounded or threatened, while others were more open with their gifts. Troy and Cooper were two of the latter sort. They worked construction and simply did their jobs each day before going home.


    While they generally didn¡¯t participate in the hero/villain games, many Civ-Touched would at least chip in if a Collision Point happened anywhere nearby. If nothing else, they assisted with the clean-up afterward, which was part of how damage caused by those events wasn¡¯t quite as bad as it could have been. They were well-compensated for such help, though some didn¡¯t accept such things. Others simply saw it as offsetting their lost wages and paying them for their time and effort.


    Either way, what Civ-Touched spent most of their time on was simply doing their jobs. They were quite often highly sought-after, and earned very good salaries depending on the usefulness of their powers, often multiplied by their competence with them and their actual skill-sets. But even quite minor powers, in the right industry, could be very useful. Troy, for example, knew one woman whose power only allowed her to operate normally and without any problems no matter what the temperature was. It could be negative fifty degrees or a hundred and fifty, and she would still be comfortable, suffering no ill-effects. A minor gift all around, yet she was paid quite well to do work in places like Antarctica or the Sahara Desert.


    After checking in with their site manager and getting their assignment for the day, Troy and Cooper made their way to the far side of the construction site. On the way, a bucket of long nails and a handful of two-by-fours began to float along behind them at a gesture from Troy. Cooper was still holding his saw in one hand, with the three duplicates floating to one side. Once they reached the right spot in the building the group was working on, the two of them spread out a bit. Troy focused on making each of the five two-by-fours line up properly in the spots that had been indicated with pencil lines, and held them in place with a thought. Another thought made several nails float out of the bucket and line themselves up in the right spots before being driven into each two-by-four all the way down the line when the man made a shoving motion. Another gesture brought more nails out before they too were driven into the wood. He was nailing the two-by-fours into place five at a time.


    Meanwhile, Cooper took up his own position at a table where several large blocks of wood had been laid out. As soon as he set down the saw he had been holding, the energy duplicates of it vanished, only to be replaced by duplicates of the measuring tape and subsequently the pencil he held. His own power didn¡¯t allow him to turn off the effect of creating energy duplicates of any non-living object he held in his right hand. That was a large part of why he didn¡¯t bother hiding his identity. It would have been an exercise in futility to never touch anything with that hand. Particularly given he was right-handed. He could at least control what the constructs did. Well, he could control where they were positioned and whether they duplicated his motion or just floated there doing nothing. But that was something.


    After measuring the first block carefully, he positioned his saw at the right spot. The three duplicate saws all moved to the same positions on other blocks, as the man began to saw the wood down to the proper sizes. Once they were done, the blocks would be ready for Troy to nail into place.


    Just another day as a Civ-Touched construction worker. But hey, at least they didn¡¯t have to worry about making themselves look good in those tights and spandex things. Troy had absolutely no interest in squeezing his own body into something like that unless it was Halloween. And even then, only as a joke. Which meant he didn¡¯t have to go on a diet just to look good in that stuff.


    Speaking of which, hey, they were supposed to meet up with the others that night.


    *******


    Nadia Campbell was a small black woman who was often mistaken for being a good ten or twelve years younger than her actual age of thirty-two. With her slender form and quite youthful face, she was still carded when going into clubs or buying alcohol. Not that she did much of the former outside of being dragged along to parties by friends, or as part of research for her job.


    It was that same job she was doing right now, while standing in the kitchen of the restaurant she owned. Or rather, co-owned. Technically, she could have purchased it outright, but the woman preferred not to do any part of the business which involved talking to investors, dealing with delivery people or employees, or simply being a public face in any way. She just wanted to do her work and be done with all of that extra nonsense. Nadia didn¡¯t hate people, she simply didn¡¯t care for them all that much. She bore them no ill will, yet had no desire to know or interact with them for the most part. She was perfectly fine with people doing whatever they wanted, so long as what they wanted didn¡¯t hurt anyone else, and they did it somewhere away from her. Be free and happy, but do it out of earshot.


    Perhaps someone might have found it odd that a person with that sort of opinion had gone into a business involving serving food to many strangers. But that, of course, was not what her job was. Other people focused on taking orders and serving the food. Her job was to make it. Or rather, to design it.


    Standing there in her kitchen, several hours before the restaurant would open for the day, Nadia studied the pot in front of her. An array of various meats, vegetables, and spices were laid out on the counter to one side. Picking up a clean knife, she cut several quick bits of meat off a long piece of sausage and scoop them into the pot along with the broth. After another thought, she added several piles of diced onions, then sprinkled in a bit of spice from one of the shakers. A dash of this, then a toss of that, followed by adjusting the temperature on the burner before adding just a tad more spice, and she used a wooden spoon to take a small taste.


    It was, unsurprisingly, delicious. That was her gift, literally. She was essentially a Tech-Touched, yet not in the way that most were. She didn¡¯t build machines. Her power revolved entirely around cooking. She could, entirely without measuring or reading any recipe instructions, create perfect, incredible meals. She did so intuitively, but always had a camera (or several) recording everything she did so that it could be reconstructed and the actual recipe written out.


    She didn¡¯t only make money off what the restaurant sold. Though that by itself was quite enough to bring in a decent income for her. She also sold her recipes to other restaurants across the world, which helped to take her from being relatively well off for someone in the restaurant business, to being outright rich. If she wanted to, Nadia could have been much better known than she was. She could have run around playing cooking celebrity, like that Ramsay fellow. But that sort of thing didn¡¯t interest her at all. She preferred working in relative secrecy. Most people didn¡¯t even know that what she did involved having a power at all. They simply thought she was a very talented chef.


    She quite enjoyed the challenges of matching what was available in various other areas, with dietary restrictions, ingredients they could have on hand, and so forth in order to make something new that would impress people. Stretching her gift to create delicious offerings when relatively little was available was one of her favorite things to do. She had standing requests from small restaurants in many remote regions of the planet to help them design new, unique meals using what little they had access to. Not only restaurants, but certain governments and aid organizations as well. The military had had her redesign some of their MREs to help make them more palatable while still lasting for years.


    After adding a tiny bit of shredded carrot, the woman paused as the phone on the wall rang. She didn¡¯t carry a cell phone with her, preferring not to have what amounted to an electronic leash in her pocket. If she wasn¡¯t near a phone when someone wanted to call her, they simply had to wait until she was. She still used an old-fashioned answering machine in her condo. Now, she stepped that way and picked up the phone, hitting the button to answer. ¡°You¡¯re two minutes early, you¡¯ll have to wait until it¡¯s done.¡±


    There was a brief pause before a man¡¯s voice replied, ¡°I called early because I wanted to ask how you are. And what you¡¯re doing this weekend.¡±


    ¡°The same thing I do every weekend, Claudio,¡± Nadia retorted while carefully watching the pot. ¡°Not working for a couple of spoiled billionaires and their children.¡± Claudio was the main chef for the Evans family. He had worked for her for several years before they scooped him up, something she still had not forgiven them for. Claudio had great potential, and was good at talking to people. Better than she was, not that that was hard. Still, she had thought to make him one of her partners before he ended up leaving to go work for Sterling and Elena. Pah. ¡°So if you think you¡¯re going to tempt me to work one of their ridiculous parties¨C¡±


    ¡°No, nothing like that,¡± Claudio assured her. ¡°I know how you feel about them, believe me. This isn¡¯t about the Evans¨Cor¡­ not exactly.¡±


    Frowning at the pot as she gave it another stir and turned the heat lower, Nadia replied, ¡°What is it about then?¡±


    Over the next few minutes, the man told her about the young girl the Evans were working to adopt. He wanted to prepare a special dessert for the girl, something unique and perfect to celebrate if she agreed to the adoption. Or just for fun if she didn¡¯t. Either way, he wanted something she had never tasted before, something none of them had tasted before.


    Nadia might have had no interest in serving or working for the Evans themselves, but some lost little girl who was being adopted by them? That was different. After a moment of hesitation, she finally sighed and turned off the burner for her soup before moving to start pulling out ingredients for pastries. ¡°Let me see what I can come up with.


    ¡°But you owe me. And you can pay me back by meeting with my investors tomorrow so I don¡¯t have to talk to them. And don¡¯t call me back for this tonight.


    ¡°I have plans.¡±


    *******


    Standing in the middle of an empty living room, a lightly tanned man with a neatly trimmed beard, dark curly hair that was worn down to his shoulders, and piercing blue eyes faced the young, handsome couple. The two recently married men held one another¡¯s hands, clearly deeply in love as they looked around the open space. ¡°It¡¯s so perfect,¡± one murmured. ¡°That window over there, that¡¯s facing east, right?¡±


    The dark-haired man, whose name was Collyn Elliot, gave an easy nod. ¡°Yup, that is east, which means it catches plenty of sun in the morning. And that makes the room look quite beautiful, particularly if you go with that soft, yellow color scheme you were talking about.¡± As he spoke, the man gestured, and the walls of the room immediately went from being white, to being a warm goldfield color. Another gesture turned the gray carpeting into a brown that went well with the walls. There were no curtains against the windows, yet with a look from the man, a pair of sheer white ones appeared where they should have been.


    The curtains weren¡¯t real. Nor was the color on the walls or carpeting. It was all illusions. Collyn¡¯s power allowed him to somewhat change the appearance of any non-living material he was in the same general area of, such as the colors of the floor and walls here. He could also create minor holographic-additions, such as the appearance of curtains, furniture, and so on. The illusions were incapable of moving in any way, and were not solid. But it worked quite well for allowing him to do his jobs as both an interior decorator and real estate agent. Anyone who wanted to know what a place would look like with a new dresser, a different coat of paint, or anything like that could find out for certain if that¡¯s what they wanted without doing anything permanent or strenuous. It really helped him sell or rent places out when he could prove to someone just how good their dream home would look once they put a bit of work into it. Maybe he didn¡¯t use his power to run around as one of those costumed heroes (or villains, but he liked to think that if it was one or the other, he¡¯d be a good guy), but at least he still enjoyed his work, and made a decent living off of it.


    And, as an added bonus, he wasn¡¯t risking his life every time he went out to do his job. That was definitely a benefit. Not that he liked to think of himself as a coward, just¡­ He wasn¡¯t looking forward to facing injury or death all the time. No, using his power this way was quite enough excitement for him. Particularly considering what a comfortable living it made for him. It turned out that being able to see exactly what they were going to end up with after their work was done made people willing to pay a little extra. Not an absurd amount. He didn¡¯t want to completely gouge his customers using something that was relatively easy for him. Just a little bit more than he¡¯d normally get, enough that he could afford a nice place and decent things. And, he¡¯d been able to set his parents up in a nice retirement community down in Florida where they could enjoy their golden years. For a family that had, throughout his childhood, struggled to put food on the table no matter how hard his father worked at that thankless factory job, that was incredible. Gaining these powers when he was a junior in high school fifteen years earlier had been a turning point for his entire life. It gave him stability and direction. Hell, before he¡¯d Touched, he had been a bit of a delinquent. He¡¯d had no idea what he was going to do with his life. But ever since he¡¯d seen that orb behind the bleachers when he¡¯d been looking for a place to smoke some weed, there had been real change in his life. Real growth.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Shaking those thoughts off, Collyn listened as one of the practically-honeymooning couple asked what the room would look like with a nice entertainment center and two leather chairs in one corner, near the fireplace. With a smile, he carefully adjusted the illusion to create just that, shifting through several colors and styles until he settled on one they both quite liked. At another question, he added a small bookshelf to one side with an assortment of novels within, and a few knicknacks on top. With a couple paintings and photographs of the couple added along the walls, and a change of the carpet to a deep red and the walls a light tan color, the men were more than satisfied. They took several pictures of what the place would look like once the redecorating was done, before moving on to the next room.


    Before long, that meeting was over and he had made another sale. The men would need to visit the bank and go through some paperwork, but he was confident they would follow through. Which meant that was another commission in his pocket. Or would be soon enough. Maybe he¡¯d indulge himself and pick up that fancy new refrigerator and stove he¡¯d been looking at the other day. He¡¯d talked to Nadia Campbell for a few minutes the other day (about as long as someone like Nadia could ever stand to talk to anyone), and apparently she swore by them. Anything that was good enough for Nadia, when it came to stuff in the kitchen, was good enough for him.


    And hey, maybe he¡¯d even call his parents and see how they were doing. His mother had been bugging him to do that more often, and he got a kick out of the breathless way she would describe the scandalous outfit she saw being paraded around the nearby beach. In fact, speaking of scandalous outfits on the beach, maybe it was time for an in-person visit.


    Though, of course, that was for later. Tonight, he already had plans.


    *******


    Even with a brief glance, it would be apparent that there was something different about the figure walking along the small side trail in the zoo. The path was labeled for employees only, as it led behind some strategically-placed bushes and to the rear door of the reptile house. As for the figure itself, one of the notable things was that it was made of mud. Hard-packed mud, shaped into a roughly six-foot figure with a clearly androgonyous appearance, along with four arms. The two lower limbs, near the hips, carried bags of reptile food. The two higher ones, up where they should have been, held a coiled length of hose and a shovel. Little bits of mud were left behind wherever the figure walked, only to quickly shlurp themselves back up into the feet of the body so no mess was left behind.


    Just that by itself, the four-armed mud golem would have attracted attention. Then there was the fact that its head wasn¡¯t a head at all.


    Its head was a turtle.


    Yes, where the mud golem¡¯s head should have been, a ten-inch-long African sideneck turtle perched and was held in place by the mud. A small radio was positioned directly in front of and slightly under the turtle, in the golem¡¯s neck, with the speakers visible through a hole in the mud. Wires led up to the turtle¡¯s own neck, visible if one looked closely enough while its small head was turning one way, then the other.


    As the turtle-headed golem reached the entrance into the reptile house, the door was opened by a uniformed staff member heading the other way. She immediately smiled and stepped aside, gesturing. ¡°Morning, Venus. You catch Darkline last night?¡±


    The voice in response was projected through the speaker in the golem¡¯s neck, while Venus, the turtle, shook her head back and forth a little. ¡°Good morning, Polly. Please don¡¯t spoil it, I was busy with a project. But it¡¯s recorded. I¡¯ve got a can of sardines just waiting for me to cozy up with tomorrow.¡±


    Making a show of zipping her fingers across her lips to illustrate that she wouldn¡¯t say anything, Polly promised, ¡°I¡¯ll have my phone with me after you see it and want to talk about¨Ceh, things.¡± Winking then, she gestured. ¡°I¡¯m gonna head over to see what Bryce wants me working on next, let me know if you need anything.¡±


    Venus promised to do just that, before heading in through the door that the woman was still holding open. Within the reptile house, she immediately set to work feeding the animals, as well as scooping and cleaning out cages. The whole time, she talked to the reptiles. Not that they understood her, of course. But it still made her feel better.


    At one point, she had been just like them. She was an animal in the zoo. Actually, her own cage had been right over in the corner of this same room. Maybe that was why she always volunteered to be the one who cleaned these ones out, and why she felt so comfortable here, even if the other animals didn¡¯t understand her.


    Then the orb had arrived. And ever since she had touched her beak against the side of that glowing ball in an attempt to figure out if it was food, Venus had been changed. Her intelligence was drastically increased to put her on par with humans, she was given an immediate understanding of the English language, and she was capable of manipulating mud. Well, technically she was able to control both water and dirt to a limited extent. But her true strength came when she mixed them. If she stretched herself, Venus was capable of controlling a mud golem body twice this size. But she preferred to keep it roughly human-sized in order to avoid freaking people out too much. After all, being what she was, she already had an uphill battle when it came to being accepted. At least, as far as outsiders went. Her own workmates were, for the most part, quite understanding. Even if there was a bit of strangeness when it came to the fact that most of them had actually taken care of her when she was an ordinary animal.


    Perhaps she could have done more as one of those superheroes on the streets. But Venus didn¡¯t think she was that brave. She just wanted to work with the people and animals right here in the zoo where she had spent her entire life. Besides, even at its strongest, her power wasn¡¯t that impressive. She could make a large mud golem (of a humanoid or other figure) and control it quite well, like an extension of her own body. But even the big version wasn¡¯t strong enough to be that much of a threat in the grand scheme of things.


    Or maybe she was just too afraid of what could happen if she got hurt. Either way, Venus preferred to stick to her ordinary job and her friends. Though speaking of those friends, she did have plans for that evening.


    She just hoped Nadia wouldn¡¯t mind if she brought back some leftovers for some of the other turtles and lizards to try.


    *******


    ¡°Are you sure you wouldn¡¯t prefer we eat outside on the patio?¡± That evening, Venus tentatively asked that while her golem stood awkwardly near one of the restaurant tables. It was after hours, and the rest of the staff had been sent home a bit earlier than they normally would have been. Not that most of them wouldn¡¯t have been just fine helping out with this, but it was something that the restaurant¡¯s owner preferred to take care of herself.


    Speaking of that owner, Nadia Campbell made a scoffing sound under her breath while shaking her head. ¡°Nonsense. You have perfect control over that mud of yours, and I trust you not to leave any sitting around.¡± Pointing with her wooden spoon, she added, ¡°Just don¡¯t make me regret that trust. And that goes for all of you.¡± Her gaze moved from the turtle TONI to the other three members of their little dinner party, the two construction workers, Troy and Cooper, and the interior decorator/real estate agent, Collyn Elliot. There were other Civ-Touched in Detroit, of course. But this was their own group. They had started out by meeting each other at a group meeting for people like themselves, Touched who felt a little guilty about not using their powers in a more proactive, heroic sense. Or who simply wanted others like themselves to talk to. They had met, hit it off, and begun interacting more outside of the group meetings. That by itself was how Troy had made sure Cooper got a job at the same construction firm he worked at.


    Where exactly they went and what they did varied, of course. Sometimes they even spent time at the zoo, when it was Venus¡¯s turn to be in charge of the activities. But everyone enjoyed the nights when Nadia took control, because she inevitably fed them delicious food until they were stuffed to the point of barely moving. It was like a mini-Thanksgiving, only once every six weeks or so.


    Troy, who didn¡¯t have a lot of good suits, still managed to dress up fairly nicely in crisp dark red slacks and a black button up shirt. He thought about wearing a tie to one of these things, but the first time he put one on, it felt as though the damn thing was choking him. So, he¡¯d decided that this would have to be good enough. Cooper, meanwhile, wore an old suit that had belonged to his father. Which meant that it wasn¡¯t exactly a current suit. The pants and jacket were Easter egg blue, and he also wore a bright pink shirt under that. Cooper claimed that the suit was lucky, because he always attracted attention in it. Everyone else believed that second part, anyway.


    Then there was Collyn, who was the only one at the table who wore regular high-end clothes to these things. His suit and silk shirt were perfectly tailored and came from one of the most expensive places in town. So, it might have seemed odd that he wore what looked like a child¡¯s tie that was Blue with a lot of little green turtles all over it. But the tie had been given to him as a present from Venus, so of course he was going to wear it to these dinners. He¡¯d also worn it the last time he visited his parents down in Florida, just to make his mother laugh. Looking good for customers so they believed they could trust you to sell them a good home was one thing, but making his friends and parents smile just because he wore a silly tie? That was important as well. And, of course, he liked to remind himself not to take himself too seriously sometimes.


    It was just too bad that his powers didn¡¯t work on anything that was moving, or he might have worn the tie all the time and simply covered it when necessary.


    Finally, the last member of their group besides their host was, of course, Venus herself. Her mud golem was still standing at attention nearby, wearing a somewhat loose-fitting old suit of its own. It looked like a dirty mannequin, given the lack of a head. With the sound of wet, moving mud, the thing reached up to the turtle who sat in place of that head, gingerly picking her up before putting her down on the table so it could step away. Venus, for her part, wore a tiny pink bowtie on her small neck, and her shell had been decorated with a few paper stars with colorful glitter on them. They had been taped on by a couple close friends at the zoo, who were delighted when Venus had asked them to make her pretty.


    Nadia, who wore her simple, yet effective chef¡¯s uniform, clapped her hands once. ¡°We have soup and salad coming straight away, but of course, there is another matter to handle first. Everyone chip into the envelope.¡±


    The envelope, in this case, sat open on the table, waiting as the assorted group produced whatever cash they could spare and tucked it away inside. Even the golem, under Venus¡¯s direction, pulled out a wallet from the middle of its chest and selected several bills to push inside. Nadia tucked money into the envelope as well, because it wasn¡¯t for the dinner they were having. Instead, the money would be collected from their group and others like them, then distributed to various organizations in order to provide the same sort of services that had brought them together in the first place.


    And it went to more than simply keeping the lights on and the tables at those group therapy sessions stocked with punch and cookies. The money also went to help runaway Touched who had no solid family system, and who didn¡¯t want to risk their lives playing superhero (or villain) just to make money. Many people thought that Touching meant you were set for life, except sometimes it wasn¡¯t so easy to translate those powers into a job, and if you didn¡¯t want to be part of the violence and risk injury or worse, they didn¡¯t always help. Even if they did, it was sometimes hard to find the right job to do with them. That was where these organizations stepped in and helped. Organizations like Keeping Our Teen Touched Safe, or KOTTS. Although some in KOTTS were definitely and firmly against anyone under the age of eighteen participating in that sort of violence at all, as a whole the organization was devoted to helping those who simply did not want to be part of it. It had been founded in New York City by a man whose son was killed while part of the very first Minority team, before they were even officially called that. The man had once barely paid attention to his son, until that son went off to prove himself and ended up being brutally murdered by the villain known as Casket. That had resulted in Casket being one of the very first prisoners sent to Breakwater, as well as the establishment of the official Minority system, and the formation of KOTTS.


    Once everyone had contributed to the envelope, Nadia sealed it up and promised to put the thing in the dropbox the next morning. Then she called for Cooper¡¯s help while heading for the kitchen. Excusing himself, the man followed.


    While the two of them were gone, Troy quickly hopped up and gestured for help. ¡°Come on, she said she put it over here behind the bar.¡± Together, he and Collyn moved that way for a moment before returning with a large black cardboard box, which they showed to Venus before setting on the table.


    After another few seconds, they were ready. Which was just in time, as Nadia and Cooper began coming back. The man was talking. ¡°Seriously, that¡¯s really not like you, like, ever. You always know exactly how much longer your stuff has to cook, so I¡¯m not sure how you could mess up the¨C¡± He stopped talking abruptly at the sight of the box on the table. Or rather, what had been in the box. It was a large, clearly homemade cake with ¡®Happy Graduation¡¯ written across it. As soon as he saw it, the assorted group, including Nadia behind him, called out, ¡°Surprise!¡±


    ¡°What th¨Chow¡­ how the hell did you guys know it was graduation?¡± Cooper stammered. The pale, red-haired man was gaping at the cake. ¡°It¡¯s online courses and I didn¡¯t tell¨C¡± He stopped before realizing. ¡°It was my mother, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    With a grin, Troy nodded. ¡°She called the work site last week wanting to ask you when the virtual ceremony was. Come on man.¡± He punched his friend in the shoulder. ¡°We knew you were taking classes, but I thought you had another six months to go.¡±


    Flushing a bit with embarrassment, Cooper replied, ¡°Aw, I didn¡¯t want anyone making a big deal out of it. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m graduating from some fancy pants Ivy League school with a doctorate or anything. It¡¯s just some dumb online courses.¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t you put yourself down,¡± Troy interrupted. ¡°You know the rules. We don¡¯t do that.¡±


    Bobbing her little turtle head, Venus agreed, ¡°That¡¯s part of the no-more box. We threw that in the hole and buried it, remember? And it is a big deal. You¡¯ll have a¡­ an associates degree in¡­ what was it called?¡±


    ¡°Project Management,¡± Cooper informed her, still blushing as red as his hair. ¡°I just, you know, went with the foreman to one of those client meetings once and they liked a couple things I said, and it felt good. So, I thought maybe I¡¯d get a degree in that and see how it went. You know, just to see if I could maybe push myself into a promotion.¡± His eyes widened then, before he focused on Troy. ¡°Err, not that I don¡¯t love the work we do¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop it,¡± Troy interrupted. ¡°Sure, we have fun out there. But if you can get a better job that doesn¡¯t make you bust your ass all the time, you go for it.¡±


    Nadia agreed. ¡°If you have ambition, you should indulge it and see where it can take you. Don¡¯t be ashamed of wanting more.¡±


    There were murmurs of agreement from the others, before Cooper thanked them profusely. Rubbing the back of his neck a little self-consciously, he pointed out, ¡°Of course, my entire career might fall apart before it even starts if the clients I¡¯m supposed to talk to think it¡¯s weird when stuff like this happens.¡± He picked up a fork in his right hand, gesturing as three more glowing energy-construct duplicate forks appeared nearby. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can turn it off.¡±


    Collyn scoffed at that. ¡°Are you kidding me? I¡¯ve got plenty of clients who would think that was amazing. They¡¯ll be asking you to hold all sorts of stuff just to see what happens. It¡¯s the perfect simple little parlor trick. Doesn¡¯t hurt anybody, but it looks really cool. Believe me, you¡¯ll do fine. In fact, I¡¯ve got a few phone numbers for you to share with your boss. You tell him, if he takes you with him to those meetings and lets you show him what you can do, you¡¯ll bring in plenty of new business. You guys design and build the stuff, and I can find the right people to buy it.¡±


    The others all agreed that they would help in any way they could, though their own contributions probably wouldn¡¯t be as important as finding new clients the way Collyn could. Still, Cooper gratefully accepted all of it, before his eyes slid to Nadia. ¡°Ah, I know dessert¡¯s supposed to be last¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll make an exception this time,¡± she informed him. ¡°Why else do you think I planned for my food to take another half hour before it¡¯s ready? I don¡¯t make mistakes like that.¡± Making a scoffing sound at the very suggestion, she produced a knife from behind the nearby bar. ¡°Now then, let us cut your cake. Don¡¯t you worry, Venus. I have a perfect worm-trout pie for you. I can¡¯t wait until you try it.


    ¡°And yes, I have extra for you to take back to your old friends at the zoo.¡±

 Schooling 24-04

    Obviously, part of me wanted to immediately start asking Amber about the situation. But on the other hand, I didn¡¯t want to expose Jae¡¯s secret like that. It wasn¡¯t up to me to kick her into the spotlight. If she didn¡¯t want to tell Amber and me about having a boyfriend (if that¡¯s what that whole thing was), then blabbing about what I had seen to the other girl was probably pretty rude. It had to be her choice if she wanted to share something like that. Besides, the idea of bringing it up felt way too much like I would be turning into one of those weird gossiping girls.


    So, I pushed the thought out of my mind and continued on through the school day. Though obviously curious about just what was so important about Jae¡¯s maybe-boyfriend that she had to skip classes for the day, I still took down the notes she had requested. Maybe she¡¯d explain it later. Especially if I poked her strategically for answers.


    Either way, beyond needing to pay extra attention for those notes, school itself was relatively normal. I sat with San and Dani at lunch, answering a bunch of questions peppered at me from the latter about what sort of doctors I¡¯d been to whenever I was hurt doing one stunt or another. It was kind of a weird conversation, starting around her talking about healthcare and hospitals and stuff, before she started asking about what doctors I, as a rich kid, had visited. It could easily have turned¡­ well, not hostile but at least uncomfortable. I knew I was privileged in so many ways, that especially. I had access to top of the line medicine, including Touched-Tech stuff. I thought that¡¯s where Dani was taking it, to be honest, that she wanted to start an argument about how terrible it was that people without money couldn¡¯t get that sort of care.


    It wouldn¡¯t be much of an argument, given I agreed with her. But still, that¡¯s not what she was doing. At least, it didn¡¯t feel like it was. It felt more like she was genuinely curious about the hospitals I¡¯d been in and who my doctors were.


    San noticed too, swallowing a bite of his pizza before asking, ¡°Dude, are you writing a book about rich doctors or something?¡±


    With a snort, Dani waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Nah, I just¨Clike I said, I grew up dirt fucking poor, okay? I¡¯m not used to having any money. Like, a few months ago I was digging in the couch cushions to get change for lunch. And now my great-aunt¡¯s sorta-kinda talking about how I need to get a check-up or something. I just thought if I could figure out what doctors the richest parents in town send their accident-prone kid to, that¡¯d be the one to try. Since the old lady¡¯s the one footing the bill for it, might as well go to a good one.¡± She mumbled the last bit, poking at her plate with a fork before sighing. ¡°Never mind, it¡¯s stupid.¡±


    My head shook quickly at that. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s not stupid. I uhh, I mean, if you want, I can give you a list of the doctors my family goes to who are still, you know, available. There¡¯s a couple who don¡¯t have public practices anymore, but¨Cerr, sorry, that sounds way too braggy. I wasn¡¯t¨Csorry.¡±


    ¡°Sure, whatever,¡± the other girl replied with a shrug. ¡°You wanna make a list of the people your parents trust with their precious baby girl, I guess that¡¯ll be enough to make my aunt happy.¡±


    So, I did just that. Well, I didn¡¯t write a note. I went through my phone to find the names and texted them to her.


    When I was done with that, San gave a blow whistle as he stared at his own phone. ¡°Man, you guys see what that Paintball kid and his new team were up to yesterday? That shit¡¯s crazy.¡±


    ¡°Pretty sure the whole city was crazy yesterday,¡± I pointed out with a little shrug. ¡°Didn¡¯t like, every gang in the city explode or something? I heard a bunch of people switched sides.¡±


    Dani gave a short nod, rocking back on her seat with a muttered, ¡°Yeah, there were a bunch of traitors.¡± That was followed by a shrug. ¡°But then, I mean, they¡¯re criminals. What can you expect?¡±


    San was giving a dismissive wave. ¡°Yeah, yeah, it was fucking nuts. They had, like, everything locked down, cops patrolling every neighborhood, the works. It was crazy. But, like, this other thing was different from that. They were up at that Whitecap stadium and a bunch of those fucking fire zombies attacked the place. You¨C¡±


    Dani laughed. ¡°Dude, are you kidding me? Of course we saw it. It¡¯s only, like, the top six videos on the SPHERE threads and all over the YouTube homepage.¡±


    That made me do a double-take. ¡°It is? I mean they are? What?¡±


    So, both of them made me watch several cell phone videos taken by various people in the stadium while that whole thing was going on. Or from the security cameras. There were a lot of comments from people who were there, or people who knew people who were. They were going on and on about what it was like, especially when it came to the rest of the team. I¨Cor Paintball, was still a pretty big topic, but most of the focus was on the others. They got our name right, and someone had put the names we used under screenshots of each of us. There was a bit of arguing over which was Calvin and which was Hobbes, or which was Style and which was Poise. But still, for the most part they had it right. Everyone in the comments was going on about what would¡¯ve happened in that stadium if no one showed up. Of course, some of the comments were raising conspiracy theories about how we happened to get there right in time. But for the most part, everyone was pretty positive. And to be fair, I couldn¡¯t really blame the distrustful people. It was weird that we¡¯d made it right in time, or would¡¯ve been if I didn¡¯t know the truth.


    In any case, by then, it was time to head back to class. But as I stood up, San caught my hand. ¡°Hey, I gotta ask you something. You remember when we went to that farm with the sheep and Deborah thought it¡¯d be a good idea to try dying their fur with food coloring and water. And¨C¡±


    ¡°San,¡± I started, ¡°what are you talking about? What farm? Who¡¯s Deborah?¡±


    His voice grew more distracted as he leaned around me to look that way. ¡°You know, the farm with the¨Cokay, that¡¯s probably enough.¡±


    ¡°Enough of¨Cwhat are you doing?¡± Turning to look for myself, I saw Dani walking to the exit just as Amber and Tomas came from another part of the cafeteria. At the last second, Tomas split off from Amber, disappearing into the crowd just as she ended up at the exit with Dani. The two of them stopped there and started to talk.


    ¡°You guys planned that?¡± I demanded, turning to squint at San.


    It was Tomas who answered, coming out of the crowd. ¡°Sort of. Well, mostly through a few looks and a text or two while you were busy.¡±


    San nodded. ¡°Yeah, I mean you were talking about doctors or whatever and Amber was over there. We just sort of made sure they ended up in the same spot at the same time. Tiny nudge. I mean, come on, they¡¯re cute together, right?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Tomas agreed, ¡°they are cute together.¡±


    ¡°You guys are so weird,¡± I informed them, shaking my head. ¡°Incredibly weird. But if you two matchmakers are done for the moment, I need to actually go to class.¡±


    Tomas pretended to consider. ¡°You know, speaking of people who are cute together¨C¡±


    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s enough of that!¡± Red-faced, I pivoted and started to walk away quickly. I really did not want to think about who Tomas thought I would be cute with. Considering he was my ex and¨Cwait, was he talking about him? Did he¨Cno, wait, did I even want¨Cno, wait¨C


    I was so busy focusing on that whole issue, that I ended up walking right into someone who had stopped in the doorway ahead of me. There was a grunt of surprise, before the girl in question spun to blurt, ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, you fucking¨CCassidy!¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    It was Arleigh, of course. Because that was just how my luck went. She immediately plastered a smile over her face and laughed unconvincingly. ¡°Sorry, I guess I shouldn¡¯t stop right in the doorway, huh?¡± Another laugh came before she snapped her fingers. ¡°Hey, you know, while you¡¯re here, I was talking to your dad at my internship the other day¨C¡±


    ¡°You have an internship with my dad?¡± I asked bluntly.


    She laughed again. ¡°Not exactly with your dad. I¡¯m just interning at one of the offices where he shows up sometimes. Anyway, the point is, he was talking about how you love that skater chick, ahh, Inessa Sidorov?¡±


    Blinking at that, I found myself nodding in confusion. ¡°Sure, she¡¯s awesome. Inessa¡¯s basically been my hero for years. Why?¡± As soon as I said that, I felt like it was probably a mistake.


    With a grin that was almost shark-like, Arleigh pounced on my reaction. ¡°Oh, well that¡¯s cool, because she¡¯s staying at our house right now. Just a little something with her agent screwing up a hotel booking while she¡¯s here for some video, and my father happened to be at the hotel when they told her there weren¡¯t any rooms. He offered her a place at our house, so she¡¯s staying with us. You know, if you want to meet her.¡±


    Oh crap. Shit. First of all, there was a big part of me who really did want to meet her. I had been watching her videos on skating for as long as I can remember. And beyond that, another part pointed out that if I declined, it could cause trouble. My dad knew just how obsessed with Inessa I was. If I turned down the opportunity to meet her, he was going to ask why. He was going to ask what else I had to do. And those were things I really couldn¡¯t afford to have my parents asking. I needed them to ignore me. Finding out that I had turned down the opportunity to meet this girl would make them do the opposite of that. They would start paying attention. They would worry about me. They would look into what else I was up to.


    There was absolutely no choice. I was going to have to agree to go over to Arleigh¡¯s house. That thought by itself was almost enough to make me reconsider. But my parents knew too much about how much of a fan of Inessa I was to think that I would let avoiding Arleigh keep me from meeting her.


    Pushing down all my conflicted thoughts about the situation, I forced myself to smile as much as I could. ¡°I mean, are you sure your dad really wants people coming by just to gawk at his guest? Hell, what about Inessa? She probably just wants to relax and¨C¡±


    With another laugh, Arleigh punched my shoulder lightly. Sort of lightly. ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. You¡¯re not just any ordinary lame-o person. Besides, my parents would totally love to have you over for dinner. Come by tomorrow. Ryder¡¯ll be there too. We¡¯ll have a whole, like, little party thing. Just don¡¯t invite anyone else. Little party. Just us.¡±


    Ryder was going to be there? Okay, sure, maybe this whole thing wouldn¡¯t be a complete waste. If Inessa and Ryder were there, at least I wouldn¡¯t be stuck with just Arleigh and her parents. Or maybe I was just telling myself that. Either way, I had to go to this thing. Which was going to be interesting.


    Finding the words to mutter a thanks to the other girl and promising to text her later, I quickly made my way down the hall. With thoughts of Jae¡¯s possibly secret boyfriend, the whole Dani and Amber situation, and the fact that I was going to have to visit Arleigh¡¯s place tomorrow filling my head, I made my way to class. One thing was for sure.


    My civilian life was starting to be just as ridiculous as the Touched one.


    ******


    Eventually, school was over, and I took the ride home with Izzy and Jefferson. I had homework that I really had to get done. It wouldn¡¯t exactly help my ability to keep my activities secret if my parents started getting calls about failing classes. So, I locked myself in my room and tore through that as quickly as I could. I¡¯d already made arrangements to go over and visit the others at the shop for a real discussion about everything that had happened the day before. But for now, I had to stick around home and go to our normal family dinner.


    Thankfully, I didn¡¯t really need to say much throughout the dinner. Simon took up most of the talking, going on and on about a trip that he and his friends were taking next week. Apparently, they were heading to Yellowstone to do some camping. Or at least, that¡¯s the story Izzy and I were being given. Maybe it was even true. I sort of doubted that everything my brother did was for the Ministry. Still, there was no way for me to know for sure. Was this a real camping trip, or was he off to do something else and we were just being given an excuse for why he wasn¡¯t around? Given his outward enthusiasm, my brother was either a very good actor, or it was the truth. Or maybe he really was doing something secret, but was just as excited about that as he would have been about camping with his friends in Yellowstone.


    Whatever the truth was, it meant I didn¡¯t have to talk very much. Still, I tried to make things seem as nice and normal as I could, teasing Simon about being eaten by bears. Which, of course made me think about that little visit I¡¯d had with the Minsters Gray. They had obviously reported everything I said to my parents, so I wondered briefly what they thought about that. Too bad I couldn¡¯t just ask them. Even if the thought of how amusing it would be to suddenly pipe up with that in the midst of Simon going on about some sort of special meat they would be barbecuing out there was enough to make me have to bite my lip.


    Eventually, dinner was over, and I was able to excuse myself. Izzy had another night of patrol to get to, but we took a few minutes up in my room to talk a bit more about everything that happened. I thought about bringing up my idea about Jae having a boyfriend, but decided against it. First, that was way too close to being one of those weird gossiping people. And second, why would Izzy care? She barely knew who Jae was, outside of just being Amber¡¯s friend. She¡¯d met her like once here at the house, as far as I knew.


    Pushing that thought out of my head, I made sure she promised to be careful out there, considering how crazy the city had become. Granted, things might have calmed down a bit after yesterday, but it was just as likely that they would get worse. Not to mention the fact that Jennica was still out there and wanted to make a name for herself. She agreed, before going to what my parents were claiming was a study date. Because, of course, I still wasn¡¯t supposed to know about her powers. I wondered how long they would keep that up if this adoption thing happened. Was that entirely up to Izzy herself? Would my parents let her tell me the truth about that much at least? And how was I supposed to react when it happened?


    Thinking about that while I made my way out of the house, I headed for the shop. The others were there already, and once I was inside, I took a few minutes to explain again about my encounter with the bear-and-raccoon Ministers. Needless to say, everyone had a lot of questions. Not to mention how openly (and loudly) vindicated Peyton felt about finding out she really had seen a raccoon at the stadium. There was dancing and jumping up and down involved.


    I fielded their questions for a few minutes before finally shaking my head. ¡°Guys, I swear, I don¡¯t know more than that. It¡¯s a little weird that they let me see them. I think it¡¯s some sort of test. You know, to see just how much I can keep secret. Like they said, it¡¯s not like it¡¯ll be some big mystery about who exposes them, if they start hearing rumors about a bear and raccoon TONI. So, you know¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t go blabbing about it,¡± Sierra interrupted. My doppelganger was sitting on one of the tables full of junk in the middle of the pawn shop main floor, eating a very large burrito. ¡°Not if we wanna avoid more Ministry attention for the moment. Which sounds like a good idea to me. Especially since we¡¯re supposed to be focusing on Breakwater now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Murphy put in from where she and Roald were sitting in a couple metal folding chairs, ¡°now that the zombie distraction is taken care of. Which, for the record, I¡¯d rather never see any of them again. I am done with zombies for the rest of my life.¡± She paused briefly before adding in a dark, muttered voice, ¡°Especially the Luciano kind.¡±


    Peyton, who was sitting cross-legged on one of her hovering marbles that had transformed into a simple disc, spoke up. ¡°Yeah, let Broadway and Grandstand look for that crazy bitch. And Pack, I guess. It¡¯s not like we don¡¯t have important things to focus on.¡±


    Jumping on that, Wren piped up from the glass counter where she was perched. ¡°I¡¯m almost done with the thing to track the location of the place when you call that jerk. But I wanna make sure it works the first time, you know? Because if we try it and it doesn¡¯t work, they¡¯ll probably notice and make it even harder.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± I agreed. ¡°We need to know where that place is so we can convince him to do the right thing. But I¡¯d rather they not realize where we are in the process.¡±


    The younger girl quickly bobbed her head to that, promising that she would get it done as soon as possible. ¡°I¡¯m working as hard as I can, I swear.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself,¡± Peyton put in. ¡°You¡¯re only one person. Don¡¯t forget, you¡¯ve got us to help. We might not be Tech-Touched, but we can be extra hands.¡±


    Fred grunted from the cash register, where he had been working on counting cash and paying bills. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m making her take breaks.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± That was Paige, who was standing nearby with her arms folded. ¡°But in the meantime, we should probably talk about the actual plan for what we¡¯re gonna do after we have the island¡¯s location. Personally, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s something we should just leave for the last minute.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± I found myself teasing. ¡°Are you seriously saying you don¡¯t want to totally wing blackmailing the world¡¯s most secure and secretive supervillain prison into doing our bidding?


    ¡°Where¡¯s your sense of adventure?¡±

 Schooling 24-05

    Everyone was hungry right after that, so we ordered some pizza and were in the middle of eating it. ¡°Okay,¡± I announced while perched on the edge of the glass counter, ¡°since Paige wants to be a total spoilsport and actually plan out what we¡¯re gonna do about the Irelyn thing¡­¡± I gave the girl in question a quick look, just to make sure I wasn¡¯t going too far with the teasing her bit. I was trying to keep things light so she wouldn¡¯t obsess too much about Irelyn, but it would¡¯ve been easy to go too far.


    Thankfully, she seemed okay, simply raising an eyebrow at me before replying, ¡°I would like us all to not die or get sent to prison ourselves, yes. And I definitely don¡¯t want to underestimate my father.¡± After a glance toward Sierra, she amended, ¡°Our father.¡±


    Before Sierra could respond to that, Peyton put in, ¡°There¡¯s no chance he¡¯ll even be involved in this, right? If the plan to blackmail the Breakwater people works, you¡¯ll never even see your dad. Wren¡¯s machine will track where the island is, then we just tell them to get those three off the island if they want to continue keeping its location a secret. And, you know, hopefully they do that. Why overcomplicate it?¡±


    ¡°And what if they don¡¯t?¡± Sierra asked pointedly. ¡°What if they call our bluff? Because if you guys don¡¯t want to kill a murdering, betraying piece of shit like our dad, something tells me you don¡¯t actually want to give away the location of a prison full of murdering pieces of shit to the public and have a bunch of Fell-Touched raising armies to go free their old buddies.¡±


    I grimaced at that. She was right, of course. If they called our bluff, we weren¡¯t about to actually expose the location of the prison to everyone. What else could we do, though? The only people who would be interested in taking that information from us were bad guys, and if these people realized that there was no way we¡¯d actually give that information to that sort of person, then we would have no actual leverage. Sure, they¡¯d probably be unhappy that we had the info ourselves, but still. We wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything with it. And they¡¯d just be able to keep trying to track us down. To say nothing of what they might do with Flea and Trivial. We had to have a plan B, if they didn¡¯t go for that. Hopefully a plan B that was good enough to be upgraded to plan A, because I still wasn¡¯t sure that blackmailing the leadership of the world¡¯s biggest and most inescapable supervillain prison should have been anything above plan Q, for Quite Stupid. Or possibly T, for Totally Moronic.


    Seeing the look on Wren¡¯s face, I quickly shook my head. ¡°Whatever we do with it, having the information is good. Trust me, we¡¯ll totally use the tracker. Besides, something tells me having the ability to track someone via phone no matter how they try to hide it would be a good thing anyway. It seems like something that will come up again later.¡±


    We all considered that for a moment, before Roald spoke up. ¡°What if you give them an out, so they don¡¯t have to look bad?¡± When we all looked that way, he continued. ¡°I mean, what if you let them play it off like those girls are there on some sort of special assignment? You know, as a favor to the Breakwater people. Like, they found out something bad was going on over there, a potential escape, and sent a couple Star-Touched in to deal with it. Or maybe that Irelyn lady shipwrecked or crashed there and they went in to find and save her.¡±


    My fingers snapped. ¡°Hang on, that last bit isn¡¯t bad. Yeah, none of it¡¯s bad. But that last bit, that one might actually be the best. Look, what if we find out where the island is, and then we fake some sort of nearby shipwreck or balloon evidence and claim that Irelyn washed up there and that those two went to save her? All we need is boat or hot air balloon wreckage, and images of the island. We don¡¯t have to actually show people where the island is, we can strip all that information out of it. Just make a public thing about some innocent woman getting lost on the island by a freak accident, and that two Star-Touched went to save her.¡±


    Paige looked like she was considering that for a moment before giving a slow nod. ¡°Maybe if you play it more like congratulating Breakwater for being on top of the situation and helping out. So they could see it as a PR win on their side. But it would have to come off like more of a leak. Something no one was going to find out about, but still doesn¡¯t make them look that bad.¡±


    While I was thinking about that, Peyton put in, ¡°I thought we were afraid that if the public found out about that, the Breakwater people would just deny everything and make the girls disappear. Isn¡¯t that why we weren¡¯t just telling the authorities where they are?¡±


    ¡°If it was something that made them look bad, they probably would,¡± I agreed. ¡°Admitting that someone was able to teleport on or off of the island would compromise every claim they make about how safe the place is. But if Irelyn just ended up there by a complete freak accident, and then the Breakwater people made a deal to send a couple local Star-Touched in quietly to get her out of there safely¡­ that could maybe work. Especially if we make it seem like she¡¯s already been rescued and they¡¯re on their way back.¡±


    Sierra gave a short laugh at that. ¡°Right, that way they can¡¯t turn around and claim the three were lost. Make it seem like it¡¯s a done deal and they¡¯re just being checked over before being released. Then they¡¯ll have no choice but to pull them off there ASAP. Well, maybe they will have some other choices. But not very good ones.¡±


    We all considered that for a few moments before Paige offered a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s probably a better plan than blackmailing those guys, and we don¡¯t have a lot of extra options.¡±


    ¡°Uh, hello?¡± Murphy waved a hand. ¡°You guys do realize that you¡¯re talking about faking something like that as though it¡¯s no big deal, right? You just said all we have to do is fake ship or balloon wreckage and put it up against an image of the island. How exactly are we supposed to fake a shipwreck? I mean, I don¡¯t know about you guys, but I don¡¯t exactly have an intact yacht to mess around with, let alone a broken one that¨Coh it¡¯s Cassidy Evans.¡± In mid-sentence, she amended herself while staring at me. Which made me self-conscious again about the fact that I wasn¡¯t wearing my mask and helmet. I still wasn¡¯t accustomed to that, to say the least. ¡°You probably have a full-sized yacht in your bathtub.¡±


    The words made me flush, head shaking quickly. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s not that bad. My boat is on the lake, just like everyone else¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Just like everyone else¡¯s, she says,¡± Peyton retorted with a snort.


    Blushing a bit more, I waved that off. ¡°You know what I mean. Everyone around here who has a boat. I mean¨Cnever mind. Anyway, we can¡¯t use that boat anyway. Trust me, my parents will see this footage, and they¡¯d recognize anything of mine out there.¡±


    ¡°I have a boat we can use,¡± Paige noted. ¡°We can break it up into pieces and partially sink it. Make it look real good.¡±


    ¡°Right, I¡¯m hanging out with more than one obscenely rich teenager,¡± Murphy muttered while shaking her head. ¡°Seriously, if Tyson ever¨C¡± She stopped then, her face twisting with realization. For just a second, the girl had forgotten that her brother was dead. I saw the way it hit her again, the full impact making her physically recoil just for a moment before she recovered. ¡°He would¡¯ve been jealous.¡± Visibly swallowing, the girl pushed on. ¡°Anyway, even if you¡¯ve got a boat we can destroy, how are we supposed to get it out to the ocean like that? I don¡¯t know about you guys, but my parents would notice if I was gone for that long. Even if we could take one of those guys¡¯ private planes.¡± She added that with a gesture toward Paige and me.


    ¡°One, I do not have a private plane,¡± I pointed out. ¡°And two, we don¡¯t have to take it all the way out to the ocean. We¡¯ll just shoot some footage on the lake and make it look like the ocean. You know, superimpose images of the boat wreckage with images of the island.¡±


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    It was Roald¡¯s turn to speak up, asking, ¡°So uhh, how are we supposed to get images of the island to mix with images of the boat? They don¡¯t exactly allow photo tours of the place.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°That¡¯s where Wren¡¯s thing comes in.¡±


    The girl in question perked up, head tilting. ¡°It is?¡±


    Nodding, I explained, ¡°Sure, obviously it¡¯d be impossible for us to actually get an image of the island. So we just have to make it look like we did. We put an image of any island in there, cover it in fog so it¡¯s hard to make out details, and claim it¡¯s Breakwater. Then in the file we add the latitude and longitude of the place Wren finds out with the tracker thing.¡±


    ¡°But we don¡¯t want to actually give the location away,¡± Murphy pointed out.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we block that information out in anything the public sees,¡± Paige realized with a look my way. ¡°But the part the Breakwater people get¨C¡±


    ¡°And the authorities,¡± I confirmed. ¡°They get the version that has the location in it, so they take us seriously. That way, they¡¯ll know we know where it is, but we aren¡¯t telling anybody.¡±


    Peyton¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°The Conservators. They¡¯ll know you¡¯re telling the truth about where those three are, because it¡¯s the only way we could have the location. And they¡¯ll all be able to save face so no one looks bad, as long as Irelyn and the others show up here safe and sound.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡± With that, I looked toward Paige and Sierra. ¡°What do you guys think? We mock up and then leak a file about how Flea and Trivial were sent to save your sister and how they succeeded and all. So now they¡¯re about to get medals or something. Include some pictures of the crash site and all that, block out the parts that have the location of Breakwater for the public release but leave it in the part that gets sent to the Conservators and whoever else, and let those people get the three of them off the island in time for their welcome home party.¡±


    The other girls seemed to be turning the idea over in their heads a bit before nodding. Sierra spoke first. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t have a better plan. Maybe we can work out some more details before we actually go for it, but other than that¡­ yeah, it¡¯s a start. Honestly, probably better than the straight up blackmail thing. Giving them a way to save face is a good idea.¡±


    ¡°Well, we went from that to this,¡± I agreed. ¡°Maybe by the time it becomes relevant, we¡¯ll have an even better plan. But yeah, we should get started on setting up that boat footage, and getting someone who can do the Photoshop stuff to make it look like it¡¯s in front of the island.¡±


    ¡°I can do that part,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty of experience and¡­ uh, training with making fake pictures.¡± She cleared her throat, looking a little uncomfortable before pushing on. ¡°But none of that is relevant until we track the location so they take the whole thing seriously and don¡¯t just write us off as conspiracy theorists.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I agreed. ¡°The only way to make sure they take us seriously is if we have the location, and the only way to make sure they don¡¯t just make Irelyn and the others disappear and pretend they were never actually there is if the public knows about it. We¡¯ve gotta hit them with both at the same time, and do it in a way where those three disappearing is the worst thing that could happen. Come on, we play this up right and we can make everyone see Flea and Trivial as total heroes. Err, they¡¯re already heroes, but you get it. Yeah, we¡¯ll have to hammer out the details or whatever, but I think we can work with it.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I think I can finish the tracker by tomorrow,¡± Wren vowed. ¡°Like I said before, it¡¯s almost done. I just have to double-check some things and¡­ umm, make sure it works the first time. Uncle Fred helped me get the last of the stuff I needed last night. I mean, he had a friend who¨Cuh, it¡¯s almost done.¡± She rubbed the back of her neck while floating in midair with pizza stains over her face, looking self-conscious (but not about the pizza stains). ¡°Anyway, the stuff we got is important and expensive, and I have to make sure it works right before plugging it into my thing. But I think I can finish it. Err.. I  can. I can get it done, I promise.¡±


    She started to apologize for taking so long and being uncertain about the parts Fred had helped procure, but Paige cut her off. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Sure, yeah, I¡¯m worried about Irelyn. But we just have to roll with it. We¡¯ve got something resembling a plan now, and I know she can take care of herself. Especially with a couple Star-Touched to help out. They¡¯ll be okay. We just have to make sure they have a way off the island so they¡¯re not stuck there forever. As soon as you get the tracker done, we¡¯ll work on the next part of that, now that we have an actual¨Cerr, something resembling a plan. And we should probably make the image of the boat wreckage be at night or¡­ maybe around dawn, so there¡¯s a reason for all the fog we need to put over the island. Which means we can¡¯t do it right now anyway. We¡¯ll work on that part later.¡±


    Sierra coughed. ¡°What my dear sorta-fraternal-twin is saying is that we don¡¯t have anything we can do right now that¡¯s actually useful as far as saving Irelyn goes. So we¡¯d really like it if the rest of you let us distract ourselves by starting this whole training thing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the only reason I want to get into this,¡± Paige pointed out with a look that way.


    ¡°Well, of course not,¡± Sierra retorted. ¡°There¡¯s also the fact that these guys are going to get slaughtered like cream puffs if they ever have to actually get into a real hand-to-hand fight without extra help, but I was trying to be nice and not say it like that.¡±


    Shaking her head slowly, Paige let out a long sigh before focusing on us. ¡°I would¡¯ve put it a little more gently than that, but yeah, you all need the extra training. Or any training, really.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Nodding, I looked at the others. ¡°So, do uhh¡­ do we have space to do this somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Paige informed me, ¡°Sierra and I had another idea.


    ¡°How do you all feel about going into that virtual reality machine again?¡±


    *******


    A few minutes later, we were all standing upstairs around the MRI-like machine in question. It had been moved over to a corner of the lab, and now had a couple extra chairs sitting around it. Peyton, Murphy, Roald, and I were staring intently at the thing, while Paige and Sierra gestured like they were prize girls on the Price Is Right. Wren, meanwhile, was hovering over the thing with her legs folded under herself. She looked quite proud (maybe partly because she¡¯d washed off the pizza stains), and cheerfully announced, ¡°See? You can totally use this thing to train as much as you want to and not even get hurt!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Paige informed us. ¡°With both of our orbs linked into the machine, we can create any landscape we want. Any scenario, any enemies. If you take too much damage, you¡¯ll just wake up out here, no problem. Much safer than trying to do the amount of actual real-world training you all need if we¡¯re gonna keep up with the sort of problems Cassidy keeps finding.¡±


    My mouth opened to object to that, before realizing I didn¡¯t have much of a leg to stand on. Or a torso, or arms, really. As far as objecting to Paige claiming I tended to get in trouble a lot went, I was basically just a head. A head that got in a lot of trouble.


    Instead, I asked, ¡°You¡¯re sure this thing is stable after we went in there before and, you know¡­ ran into that copy of your dad? Cuz, I¡¯m just saying, that wasn¡¯t a heap of fun.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s gone. We erased him,¡± Sierra reminded me flatly, a dark scowl crossing her face. Which, given it was also my face, still threw me. That whole situation threw me. It was like staring into a mirror that did things you weren¡¯t doing. Or something. Every time I thought I was over being surprised by seeing her, it hit me all over again.


    Murphy, meanwhile, spoke up. ¡°Like, gone for good and ever? He¡¯s not sitting in a recycle bin waiting for someone to click ¡®restore,¡¯ right?¡± When Roald nudged her, she gave a dramatic shrug. ¡°What? I don¡¯t know how it works. I¡¯m just saying, that would be bad.¡±


    Paige gave a short nod, arms folded tight against her stomach. I could tell the discussion made her uncomfortable too, given her much longer history with that asshole. ¡°It would be bad. But no, he¡¯s gone. It¡¯s just too bad we can¡¯t do the same thing to the real deal that easily.¡±


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Sierra pointed out, ¡°you point and click to delete something on a computer. You point a gun and click the trigger to delete Dad in real life. Seems pretty similar to me.¡±


    ¡°Hang on, hang on,¡± I piped up quickly, even as Wren gave a double-take. ¡°No one¡¯s killing anyone. Yeah, he¡¯s a piece of shit who deserves to be on Breakwater forever, but this whole thing is about getting Flea and the others out of that place, not killing your dad.¡±


    Wren¡¯s head was bobbing rapidly. ¡°Yeah! I¡¯m not gonna help kill anybody, you¡¯ve just gotta save your sister and the heroes!¡± She pointed at Sierra while adding, ¡°No killing, not even bad guys.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± my doppelganger replied smoothly, ¡°like the chick over there said, if all goes to plan, we¡¯ll never even see him.¡±


    Paige audibly coughed before putting a hand on Sierra¡¯s shoulder as she spoke up. ¡°Whatever ends up happening, we need training for it. And this is still the best way to do it. Sure, it won¡¯t actually build your muscles or anything. You¡¯ll need to do other exercises for that. Exercises in the real world. But it can help muscle memory and just, you know, actual knowledge of how to fight and defend yourselves.¡±


    ¡°Dude, you wanna train us in the Matrix, I am all up for it.¡± Murphy punched her fist into her palm. ¡°Let¡¯s get on that shit.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Paige agreed. ¡°But let¡¯s get one rule straight right off the bat.


    ¡°The first person to say ¡®I know Kung Fu¡¯ is getting kicked off a virtual skyscraper.¡±

 Schooling 24-06

    The first place we found ourselves in once we had arrived within the virtual reality space just looked like an ordinary dojo. There were mirrors on every wall, and the floor was padded enough to be a little springy under our feet. Only after looking around for a minute did I notice what made this place not just a normal dojo, besides the obvious. There was no door. The whole thing was just this one room. We also appeared wearing simple shorts and tee shirts. Even now, knowing everyone here knew who I was, it still made me reflexively tense up to see myself in clothing that made me being a girl blatantly obvious.


    Okay, not that blatantly. I wasn¡¯t exactly packing melons under my shirt. But still. It was clear that I was a girl, and that by itself was still an odd sensation for me.


    Seeing me looking around, Paige immediately realized what I was thinking and spoke up. ¡°This way there¡¯s no distractions. You know, random cars driving by, pedestrians, other buildings in view, whatever. We don¡¯t need to make anything else except for this place. It means we can put more of our effort and energy toward the actual training. It felt like the best way to do this.¡±


    ¡°That is,¡± Sierra put in, ¡°if you all think you can focus without feeling claustrophobic just because you¡¯re in a room with no door.¡± After visibly considering that, she added, ¡°Come to think of it, getting over distractions like that should probably be part of your training anyway, so yeah.¡±


    Murphy was grimacing as she slowly turned her head to look at every wall. ¡°You know, I probably wouldn¡¯t even have noticed if you guys hadn¡¯t pointed it out.¡± She exchanged with Roald before adding, ¡°But whatever, what I really want to know is¡­ is this shit for real?!¡± After blurting that out, she patted down her own face, then poked Roald in both shoulders with a gasp before turning to the nearest wall. She ran that way, bouncing off the mirror before running her hands over it. Then she knelt down and punched the padded floor, staring at everything in complete wonder. ¡°Seriously, is this place for real?!¡± Her gaze snapped from Paige and Sierra to me and then back again. ¡°We really didn¡¯t just teleport somewhere?¡± Belatedly, she made a face. ¡°Not that that wouldn¡¯t be fucking cool too, but like, I mean¡­ this whole thing is all in our heads?¡±


    Paige made a waving so-so motion with her hand. ¡°Basically, yeah. The machine is projecting this into your minds from our orb-cores. That¡¯s the really basic version. Anyway, your physical bodies are still out there just sitting in those chairs. But, as you can tell, your brain interprets what you should feel in here into actual sensation.¡± With that, she reached out to poke the girl in the forehead. ¡°Up to a certain point,¡± she added quickly. ¡°I mean, if you take too much pain, there¡¯s a certain cut-off where it won¡¯t let you feel it anymore. And you can¡¯t really be physically injured. Otherwise there¡¯s no point to doing this stuff in here instead of out in the real world.¡±


    Sierra quickly piped up with, ¡°But you¡¯ve got to feel some pain as we do this, or you won¡¯t learn from it. You know what they say, no pain no gain. And we¡¯ve really gotta make you gain a lot if we¡¯re gonna keep helping Cassidy over there get through the shit she gets herself into.¡±


    Making an exaggerated harrumphing noise under my breath, I pulled myself up to my full (totally pathetic and inconsequential) height and squinted that way. ¡°You know most of¨Csome of¨Cthere are parts of that stuff that are absolutely not my fault. Besides, you say that as though you wouldn¡¯t be incredibly bored out of your mind if you didn¡¯t have all this stuff to help all of us deal with.¡±


    Audibly snorting, my doppelg?nger retorted, ¡°If I thought you were all being boring, it¡¯d be because you weren¡¯t planning on doing something about dear old dad. And that would mean I¡¯d be out of here so fast your heads would spin. Let¡¯s just keep that in mind, huh? He¡¯s a lying, traitorous piece of shit, and I don¡¯t want my¨CI don¡¯t want Irelyn or the others anywhere near him. But I know I can¡¯t do this by myself.¡± She squirmed just a little, the admission of any weakness clearly making her uncomfortable before she pushed on. ¡°I need help. I mean, we do.¡± Her gaze toward Paige briefly. ¡°As fucking badass as we might be¨Cand the answer to that is very, we still can¡¯t just swim over there and take on everyone ourselves before ripping Dad¡¯s head off and playing soccer with it. We need you people. Not just for the whole photoshopped blackmail plan, but in case we need to do more than that. And the only way you¡¯re going to be able to really help us if shit goes down is with some actual training. You need to learn how to fight. So, are we gonna do this, or what?¡±


    I shrugged despite myself. ¡°You really didn¡¯t have to talk me into it. I know what the stakes are, and yeah, we need some help. Even without this whole thing with Breakwater¨Cwhich is super-important, don¡¯t get me wrong. But even without that, stuff in the city is just getting more and more dangerous. Sure, I¡¯ve been doing sort-of okay with the basic few self-defense lessons my parents made me get. I mean, that and my powers. But it¡¯ll be nice to have something better to fall back on. Something tells me just expecting to fall back on luck all the time is gonna backfire sooner or later.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Murphy immediately put in. ¡°And some of us don¡¯t have powers to rely on anyway.¡±


    Peyton, who had been quietly looking around the room while taking in everything we were saying, slowly nodded while turning back to us. There was a small smile on her face, as though she could barely contain herself. ¡°Dude? We¡¯re in a fucking virtual reality. I mean, sure, I was here before. But it wasn¡¯t exactly¨CI didn¡¯t get a chance to savor it that much. We were sorta busy. And now you¡¯re talking about letting these badass ninja android girls teach us how to fight? I am all-in. All-fucking-in, okay? Let¡¯s do this thing.¡±


    Smirking despite myself, I gestured to Paige and Sierra. ¡°You heard the girl. We¡¯re, ahem, all-fucking-in.¡±


    ¡°Good to know,¡± Paige replied flatly, exchanging a look with her sister before turning back to us. That slowly spreading smile seemed somewhat serpentine. It was a vaguely dangerous look. A look that told me she was going to enjoy putting us through our paces. ¡°In that case, everybody line up right here in the middle of the room. Give yourselves a few feet between each of you.


    ¡°Time to start whipping you people into shape.¡±


    *******


    There weren¡¯t any actual whips involved, of course. Not yet, anyway. Though I was pretty sure Sierra might¡¯ve been tempted. We weren¡¯t even doing anything that intense to start out. Mostly because we started out covering very basic things. Stuff like how to make a fist, how to throw a very normal punch, how to hold your arm, how to position yourself, even how to breathe properly. They spent a decent amount of time just on that last part, teaching us to keep our breathing steady to get enough oxygen in the middle of a fight. It was all stuff I¡¯d heard before, but going over it again didn¡¯t hurt. Besides, the others needed to hear it. We had to get through the basic stuff like that before anyone would be ready to learn more. I was just glad Paige and Sierra weren¡¯t moving too quickly on that. I¡¯d been a little worried that they might jump straight into the advanced training, leaving Roald, Murphy, and Peyton (and let¡¯s be honest, me) completely lost. But no, they were actually pretty good teachers. Which made me wonder if they¡¯d been given programming for that, or just¨Cyeah, I had no idea how that worked. Apparently Pittman had programmed their fighting ability into them, which was just confusing on another level. Did he know how to fight that well? Did he have someone else work on that programming and then add it? Did he just download a bunch of instruction manuals and videos into them? I¨Ceh. It was confusing when I got right down to it. But either way, they knew how to fight and they knew how to teach the rest of us.


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    As I had heard before, and as they reiterated when this whole instruction thing started, one of the biggest, most important things to do was to make these motions be instinctive. We needed to be able to do them immediately without thinking about it. We had to see the attack coming, or the opportunity for our own attack, and react instantly. Because, as Sierra put it, the moment we had to stop and think about what we were doing would be the moment we were either maimed or killed. She wasn¡¯t the sort of person to sugarcoat things like that. She made the whole thing very blunt, standing right in front of Roald as she repeated the word killed while poking his chest hard enough to make the boy wince just a bit.


    So, we went through the motions as they taught us, straight from the simplest, most basic movements and positions. Once they had us to the point where we could all stand properly, make fists without looking stupid, and more importantly, without doing it in a way that could have broken our fingers the moment we hit anything, we¡­ did that some more. But in this case, they made a game of it. Basically, they had us stand around talking to each other or watching a television screen they¡¯d put up on the wall, or any number of other distracting things. Randomly and without warning, one of them would shout one of our names and tell us where the threat was coming from, using clock positions. We had to spin that way and get into a decent position to defend ourselves within a certain amount of time before they would set off a loud buzzer and say we were dead.


    They were lenient on how much time they allowed at first, but as the hours wore on, they grew less and less so. Eventually, they got to the point of throwing a ball at us immediately, as soon as they called out the threat. We had to spin that way and react to it, either dodging the attack or blocking before it hit us. In some ways, it was fun. Which, I was pretty sure, was the point. But it was also stressful, and definitely took a lot of practice. We all got hit with plenty of balls, enough that I was glad I wouldn¡¯t be carrying any of these bruises out of this virtual reality with me. We might not have been going totally nuts on how we used this place just yet, but even that was incredibly helpful. Maybe I could¡¯ve explained away any minor injuries from this sort of thing with some story about falling on my skates, but this was just easier in the long run.


    Plus, the fact that we were in virtual reality meant it took a lot longer to get tired. It was still there, in its own way. Learning things and actively using our brains like this wore us out too, but it took much more time. Which meant we could train for a lot longer than we would¡¯ve been able to otherwise. Long enough, in fact, that I finally had to ask how long we had been doing this whole thing. Upon finding out how late it was, I insisted that we had to stop. I wanted to do a quick patrol to make sure nothing in the city was on fire before heading home, and it was already getting late enough that Murphy, Roald, and Peyton might end up with people wondering where they were.


    So, with promises that what we had just done was only the very beginning, we exited the program and found ourselves back in the real world. I groaned while picking myself up from the chair and staggered a bit. Plucking the visor and headphones off, I sighed and shook my head. To one side, Paige and Sierra were pulling themselves out of the machine, while the others were in the same position as me, staggering a few steps one way or the other while shaking off the weird feeling of having not moved at all for hours, despite what our brains thought.


    Fred was there, eating some of the leftover pizza while watching us with a raised eyebrow. ¡°How¡¯d it go with Sensei Morpheuses? Wait, would that be Senseis Morpheus? Morphesei? Wait¨C¡±


    Coughing, I gestured. ¡°It¡¯s good. I think ahh¨CI think this is gonna be a really important advantage. Especially once we get to the point of doing more than learning basic motions.¡± Before Paige and Sierra could say anything, I quickly added, ¡°Not that that stuff isn¡¯t important. I know, believe me. You have to learn how to walk before you can run. I¡¯m just saying, once we get to the point where we can use that place like a real-world virtual reality training ground, and take advantage of the sort of scenarios we can run through¡­ it¡¯s gonna be big. Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure some other groups have their own virtual reality training rooms of one sort or another, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s anything like ours. And, they won¡¯t expect us to have it. Which means they won¡¯t expect us to be able to train like this.¡±


    ¡°Being underestimated is a big deal,¡± Peyton chimed in while rubbing the back of her neck. ¡°I really like being underestimated.¡± With those words, she added a smile that looked almost feral.


    ¡°Dude, as useful as you¡¯ve been with those marbles, I don¡¯t think people are gonna underestimate you any time soon,¡± Murphy pointed out.


    ¡°That¡¯s the point though,¡± Roald put in. ¡°If everyone thinks she¡¯s reliant on the marbles, they¡¯ll think she depends on them. So they won¡¯t be ready when she can actually fight without them.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I agreed, before turning my attention back to Fred. ¡°What¡¯s going on with Wren? Is she¨C¡±


    ¡°Still working on the tracker thingamabob,¡± he confirmed. ¡°She locked herself up in the room over there so she can work without any distractions. Told me to tell you that she¡¯s gonna be busy with it for the rest of the night and that it¡¯ll be ready by the time you come back from school tomorrow. Assuming you¡¯re planning on coming?¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got¨C¡± A grimace found itself to my face. ¡°I¡¯ve got plans for dinner, but I¡¯ll be here first.¡± Seeing them all stare at me, I sighed before explaining what was going on.


    ¡°Dude,¡± Murphy put in, ¡°you¡¯re going to dinner to hang out with Inessa Sidorov? What the fuck? I mean like, this is normal for you? God, you¡¯re lucky.¡± She grunted as Roald nudged her. ¡°Err, yeah, there¡¯s all the other complicated stuff and¨Cyeah, but still!¡±


    ¡°If I could invite you and have more people on my side, I would, believe me,¡± I assured her, before grimacing.


    Paige, of course, grimaced just as much as me. ¡°You really have to go over to Arleigh¡¯s house? Couldn¡¯t just make an excuse not to?¡±


    ¡°Like Murphy said, Inessa Sidorov is gonna be there,¡± I immediately shot back. ¡°If my dad ever found out I gave up the chance to meet her, he¡¯d immediately have my head examined to make sure I didn¡¯t have a mind-controlling slug or a little cybernetic ball inside my head.¡±


    Meeting my gaze, the taller, blonde girl gave a very tiny smirk. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true. You always were a little obsessed. I used to think you had a bit of a crush or something.¡±


    Blushing at that, and at the weird feelings I had from having this sort of casual conversation with someone I had seen as a nasty, vindictive bitch for so long, I mumbled, ¡°She¡¯s just a really good skater. And she¡¯s cool, and she¡¯s got great fashion¨Cshut up. Just shut up, all of you.¡±


    Ignoring their snickers, I gestured. ¡°I¡¯m gonna head out for that quick patrol, just to see what¡¯s going on. The rest of you should head home.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll go with you,¡± Paige insisted, gesturing to Sierra and back to herself. ¡°We don¡¯t exactly have people waiting around for us, and I don¡¯t think anyone should be going around on their own right now. I don¡¯t know what Deicide is going to do about that betrayal, and it might take her a few days, but something tells me her retaliation is gonna be pretty loud. Between that and Jennica still being out there¡­¡±


    ¡°Right, sure.¡± Nodding a bit, I glanced to the others. ¡°Speaking of which, you gonna be okay?¡±


    They confirmed that they would be sticking together on the way back. Peyton would drop the other two off at their apartment before going to her own, which wasn¡¯t that much further away. Especially not the way she traveled.


    So, we talked a little bit more about what we had done and what we were going to do, then separated. I found myself back in costume, mask and helmet firmly in place, while standing on the roof of the shop. Paige and Sierra were stretching a bit behind me, as I looked out over the neighborhood below, and at the much taller skyscrapers in the distance. ¡°Things are gonna get worse before they get better, aren¡¯t they?¡± I found myself murmuring.


    Paige, stepping up beside me, confirmed, ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re doing this training. It¡¯s important. We all have to be better, we have to be ready.¡±


    ¡°Not just for this whole gang war thing,¡± Sierra pointed out while stepping up on my other side. ¡°I know we¡¯re all hoping this plan with the edited picture and all that is gonna work. We let everyone know where Irelyn and Trivial are, give Breakwater a way to come out of it looking like they¡¯re not completely incompetent, an excuse that gives them a reason to keep those two alive, and¡­ and then it¡¯ll be over. But in case it¡¯s more complicated than that¨C¡±


    ¡°In case, we need to be ready,¡± I agreed. ¡°And that means we need a lot more training than we¡¯ve already got. You¡¯re right. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re with you. Whatever happens, we¡¯ll figure out a way to get Irelyn and Trivial out of there. If it¡¯s not this plan, it¡¯ll be another one. But at least this is a start.¡±


    Paige gave a short nod of agreement, her own voice soft. ¡°It¡¯s definitely a start. In a lot of ways.¡±


    For another moment, the three of us stood there together, looking out over the city. Then I cleared my throat. ¡°Well? Let¡¯s go for a run so I can get home and sleep.


    ¡°Something tells me I¡¯m gonna need all the rest I can get if I¡¯m gonna survive visiting Arleigh¡¯s house tomorrow.¡±

 Schooling 24-07

    We didn¡¯t end up running into any problems during that quick little patrol. Probably because almost everyone who would have caused trouble was still recuperating after the massive brawl from yesterday. That or, in the case of the Scions, they were apparently spending their time running God knew how many potential recruit candidates through the initiation test or¡­ whatever it was they were doing. What it came down to was that there were more psychopaths out there besides Jennica competing to cause the most chaos and trouble in order to impress Pencil and Cup. The very thought of that brought bile to my throat, as did the positively cheerful thought of what else might happen before this audition bullshit was over.


    But, we didn¡¯t run into any of that, or any other trouble. Which meant I was able to get home and get a solid six hours of sleep. And considering I hadn¡¯t actually done that much physical exertion, since most of that had been inside the virtual reality, that meant I was rested long before my alarm was due to go off in the morning. Feeling restless, I left a note for Izzy and took a quick breakfast in the kitchen before heading out for what I told the staff members I passed was a run. It really was a run, of course. I just left out the fact that I would be changing into my costume and running across rooftops in the city, with my actual clothes in a backpack over my shoulder.


    It was pretty different being out here early in the morning. Well, early as far as I was concerned. It was not quite seven o¡¯clock yet as I bounced my way from a traffic light to run along the side of an office building. My feet pounding against the brick was the most prevalent sound I could hear that early, aside from a few cars in the distance and birds calling out to one another.


    And then there was the bird who called out to me. ¡°Ah, Paintball!¡±


    It was Lucent, of course, coming down from above as I stopped short at the edge of a rooftop. He landed smoothly on a nearby antenna and regarded me. ¡°A fine morning to you, lad. Though I do hope this means you have thoroughly slept and are now out for a brisk early jog,¡± he announced. ¡°Rather than the far more worrying option, that you have been out this entire time.¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry, Pops. I¡¯ve definitely been asleep. I actually got more sleep all in a row last night than I have lately.¡± I paused to consider my words before adding, ¡°Which isn¡¯t really all that much, I guess. Still, I can¡¯t sleep anymore.¡±


    His head tilted sideways to consider me briefly before offering an understanding, ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯ve become accustomed to less sleep overall, and also spread out. You sleep a few hours at night, and then nap in the afternoon. Now you¡¯ve done that enough that your body is accustomed to it. I¡¯m told that happens to most Touched who operate that way.¡±


    Confirming that with a short nod, I asked, ¡°What about you? I mean, did you get enough sleep? I heard you guys had it pretty rough the day before yesterday. Did uhh, did you get enough sleep?¡±


    Again, he regarded me. His expression seemed quizzical, but I couldn¡¯t tell if that was just the ordinary raven look. After a moment, he replied, ¡°Yes, it was a bit rough for everyone, it seems. I know you¡¯ve heard this already, but I wished to offer my own apologies for being unable to respond to your request for aid until the situation had already been handled.¡± He paused then before adding, with a voice that was clearly amused and lightly teasing, ¡°That is quite certainly not the sort of example I wished to give to any son of mine.¡±


    Painting a grinning smiley face across my helmet in orange paint, I gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know you had your own problems to deal with. I¡¯m just glad everyone got through it more or less intact.¡± With that, I glanced away, erasing the smile. A soft sigh escaped me. ¡°But something tells me things are gonna get worse before they get better. Deicide¡¯s really pissed off right now, isn¡¯t she?¡±


    ¡°She is not very happy, I¡¯m certain,¡± Lucent agreed, turning his head to look out over the city around us. ¡°I fear things will be escalating now, as soon as she and the others have regrouped. She will not allow that sort of betrayal to stand for long.¡±


    ¡°Why did they betray her?¡± I found myself asking. ¡°I mean, why would those guys think they could get away with switching sides like that? And to Oscuro of all groups. They¡¯re not even Hispanic. I mean, I don¡¯t care about that, but Oscuro is supposed to. Err, yeah, they made an exception for Grandstand. But, you know, considering she left them high and dry to go after her own vendetta, I would think they¡¯d be less likely to make an exception like that again.¡±


    ¡°Ah, we do have an answer to that, actually.¡± Lucent actually perked up a little at that, as though happy to be able to solve something for me. ¡°According to intelligence our people on the street have been able to pick up, It seems that Juice, Janus, and Devil¡¯s Due will not actually be joining Oscuro. In truth, Cu¨¦lebre has been traveling outside of the city, looking for new Touched members to recruit. He found another gang willing to come to the city themselves, whom he apparently does not mind sharing some territory with. They have their own Touched, several of whom were Hispanic and interested in joining his gang. But their own group desired a trade, so their strength wouldn¡¯t be diminished.¡±


    Blinking a couple times as I absorbed that, I slowly offered, ¡°Oh. So he recruits a few non-Hispanic Touched, then immediately trades them to this new gang so they¡¯ll send their own Hispanic Touched to¨Cis this fucking baseball or something? They¡¯re trading players now?¡±


    Lucent chuckled softly, which was an odd sound to hear coming from a raven. ¡°You might be surprised to learn how relatively common that sort of thing is, to be honest.¡± Again, his head tilted to look back at me with that seemingly quizzical expression. ¡°Though perhaps not, as I hear you have done your own recruiting to fill up a brand new team of your own, as this Avant-Guard.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I confirmed while giving him a thumbs up. ¡°I mean, everyone kept telling me I shouldn¡¯t go around by myself, so now I¡¯m not. Errr, not as much. I have friends.¡±


    The TONI raven gave me what I swore was a bright smile. ¡°And I am quite glad to hear that. Still, please ensure that you are all careful. Particularly considering what is happening in the city lately, and how those troubles are bound to escalate. There is a training facility at the Seraphs headquarters, and I have already been assured that you and your team will be welcome there.¡±


    No matter how much I trusted my ¡®bird-dad,¡¯ I wasn¡¯t just going to give away exactly what we were doing with our own training. Maybe that was stupid and unnecessary, but I felt like it was best to keep that to myself. At least for now. Still, no matter how much mental training we were getting inside the VR place, we did need physical training. So, I gave a quick nod. ¡°That sounds cool. I think we¡¯ll probably take you up on that. Just don¡¯t be surprised if your own members start complaining about a couple of us monopolizing your equipment. Poise and Style really want to make sure they whip us into shape.¡±


    ¡°In that case,¡± he informed me, ¡°I would like to meet them so that I might shake their hands for such forward thinking. And I do hope you are taking their suggestions seriously.¡±


    ¡°Oh, believe me, we are.¡± Thinking about what we had started the night before, I added, ¡°We¡¯ve been working on that, but they¡¯ll be glad to know there¡¯s a real place we can go with some actual equipment and all that.¡±


    ¡°Equipment and skilled trainers,¡± Lucent added, a bit pointedly. ¡°People prepared to ensure that you and your team are ready should worse come to worst, powers or no. Which, I believe is a point of contention among some out there. There is some question of whether most of your group have any powers at all. From witness accounts and footage of that baseball field event, many are debating about the¡­ Poise and Style you called them? Some believe they could not possibly move the way they do without some sort of gift, while others call it training or even the effect of Touched-Tech equipment. Which you would have access to, of course.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    I could tell he was gently fishing for information, probably curious about how much help I had on the actual powers front. Still, all I offered was a shrug. ¡°They can take care of themselves.¡± If I wasn¡¯t going to tell him about the virtual reality training room, I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to tell him that those two were actually Biolems. Trust him or not, it was best to keep that to myself.


    I could tell that he wanted to say something more about that, but he let it go and simply glanced up toward the sky before remarking, ¡°I think perhaps it might be time that you made your way toward school? You wouldn¡¯t want to be late, of course.¡±


    Again, I gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Sure thing, Pops. Don¡¯t you worry, I¡¯ll be sitting right in class, learning all my Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic. And all the rest. Just try to keep the city in one piece while I¡¯m busy with that, deal?¡±


    ¡°Deal,¡± he agreed with another soft chuckle. Then he regarded me seriously. ¡°Be very careful out there, my boy. You have accomplished quite a lot in a short time span. And a great deal of that has involved making enemies. I am very glad that you have friends to aid you, but still, keep your eyes open. If you need outside aid, do not let the delay you experienced when it came to that zombie attack dissuade you from reaching out. We are all more than willing to lend a hand. Or a wing, as the case may be.¡±


    Promising that I would be careful and definitely reach out if I needed to, I took off running once more. I still had plenty of time before school, which didn¡¯t start until eight-fifteen. But I wasn¡¯t going to tell Lucent that. The public schools started closer to seven-forty-five, and between that and the difference in the middle school starting time, I didn¡¯t want to say anything to him that might allow the Touched bird to narrow down where I went to school.


    Eesh, was I just being super-paranoid again? Like, too much so? I was almost certain he was trustworthy. But then, I couldn¡¯t really trust my own family when it came down to it, so maybe that made sense. Either way, I didn¡¯t feel comfortable exposing that much. Not even to my ¡®bird-dad.¡¯


    I did make my way gradually in that direction, through a winding, looping route. I had already made sure Jefferson would know I wasn¡¯t going to be home for him to drive, so that he only had to take Izzy. The run across the city gave me time to clear my head and really think through everything that had been happening lately. And, of course, stretching myself like that felt good.


    Eventually, I made it close to the school while still having about half an hour before classes were supposed to start. I had already eaten breakfast at home, but that run had still made me work up an appetite, so I was going to head in and grab something from the cafeteria.


    However, just as I landed on the roof of a building near the school and was about to shrug off my backpack so I could change real quick, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. Paranoid as I was at that point, I dropped down low and leaned over to peer that way. There was an unlabeled door at the end of an alley far below. The building itself was just some sort of currently unused place for dental offices and the like, nothing special. But as I stared that way, I could see none other than Jae and that boy, Damarko, making their way out of it. The room behind them looked dark and rather empty, so what would they have been¨Coh. Right, yeah, okay then. Go, Jae. Now I was very certain that the two of them had some sort of thing going on. Why else would they have been holed up in some dark, unused room before school? Clearly, I didn¡¯t know Jae nearly as well as I¡¯d thought I did. But hey, at least she had someone. Even if she apparently wasn¡¯t ready to share that fact with anyone else just yet. Either way, good for her. Damarko was definitely a catch, though I was a little worried about how her adopted step-mother would react to the whole thing, since he apparently didn¡¯t go to the ¡®rich kids school.¡¯ Was that why Jae was keeping it a secret? Boy, was that an uncomfortable thought.


    Still, I was about to dismiss that and leave the two alone so I could change and get into school. None of that was really any of my business when you got down to it, and my stomach was starting to grumble even louder after that run. However, just as I was pulling back, something else caught my attention. There was an older guy coming out of the alley as well. He wasn¡¯t coming out of that room the other two had emerged from, but from further back in, around the dumpsters. And he looked rather disheveled and dirty, as though he had been hanging out in the trash or something. His attention was laser-focused on the two ahead of him. That by itself would have been curious, but it turned to outright alarming when I saw him pull a pistol from his jacket pocket. What the hell?


    Obviously, I didn¡¯t wait to see what he was planning on doing with that. The moment I saw the gun, I launched myself off that roof and plummeted that way. On my way down, I shot a line of red from the gun to the nearby wall and activated it so the weapon was ripped from his grip. Before he could react to that, I painted orange on myself and a tiny bit on him as well, so he wouldn¡¯t be killed as I slammed into him from above. We both went down, the man cursing out loud in surprise and probably a little pain despite the paint.


    Despite his obvious surprise, the man wasn¡¯t completely done. I felt him squirm around and kick under me, the hard blow pushing me away. I rolled on the sidewalk and snapped my gaze up just in time to see him pull a dangerous-looking switchblade knife from his pocket, snap it open, and lunge at me with a scream. A flash of the training Paige and Sierra had put us through the day before went through my head, as I quickly jerked aside so the blade went past me, while snapping my hand out to smack the weapon out of his grip. It clattered along the ground nearby even as the man fell on top of me. He was still screaming in rage. Apparently he was very unhappy about me interrupting his attack on a couple of innocent teenagers.


    Yeah, I was starting to think there was something wrong with this guy. With effort, I managed to shove myself out from under him while he was rearing back for a punch and hit his chest with a bit of red paint. Another shot went to the nearby wall, then I ducked down so he could be yanked off me and sent flying that way.


    Grunting, I popped to my feet behind the man. Before he could react, and before the paint could wear off, I fished a pair of ordinary handcuffs from my pocket and got them around his wrists. He was still shouting and cursing while I painted my arms purple and pushed him to the ground, but most of the fight seemed to have gone out of him. Mostly he was just rambling about how I had to let him go, the monsters had to die, or something to that effect. He wasn¡¯t making much sense, and the fact that he was basically foaming at the mouth made me doubt he was in the best frame of mind to explain anything. Even discounting the whole ¡®about to shoot a couple random teenagers¡¯ thing.


    And speaking of those random teenagers, I looked up from getting the man on the ground just in time to see Jae and Damarko standing there staring at us. Right, shit, I had to be careful here. I couldn¡¯t let Jae know who I was. I had to pretend I didn¡¯t really know her at all, except for¨C


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the girl from the grocery store, right?¡± Snapping my fingers, I pointed that way. ¡°Yeah, hey, you okay? I think this guy was uhh¡­ trying to mug you or something?¡± I didn¡¯t really need to fake the confusion in my voice at that point. What was this guy¡¯s endgame? These two had to be just targets of opportunity, right? So why was he so pissed off right now? He¡¯d stopped verbally ranting, and was just laying there. But I could feel the rage vibrating through him. Man, this guy really wasn¡¯t healthy.


    Jae and Damarko exchanged glances, an unspoken conversation passing between them. I was pretty sure they were feeling guilty about having done their¡­ whatever that was in the room over there. But I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to bring that up. And neither did they. Instead, Damarko offered a hesitant, ¡°Uh, thanks, Paintball. Lucky you were there.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± I offered with a shrug. ¡°Been out for a run. But what about this guy? You two know him?¡± When they shook their heads, I grimaced. ¡°Guess you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But hey, you should go ahead. I¡¯ll tell the cops what happened here and wait for them to show up.¡±


    For just a moment, it looked like they were both going to argue about that. Jae actually spoke up, though her voice was quiet and uncertain. ¡°Are you sure¡­ you don¡¯t need help?¡±


    I shrugged, rising so I could keep one foot on the man. ¡°It¡¯s cool, I¡¯ve got this.¡± I had to stop myself from making my voice unnaturally deep in response to talking to someone who actually knew me. The voice-changer itself was already doing the heavy lifting on that front. ¡°You guys don¡¯t wanna be late. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure this guy isn¡¯t gonna go after anyone else anytime soon.¡±


    Again, it looked like they were going to say something. But they both stopped themselves, aside from offering very sincere thanks. Damarko added something about needing to get my autograph, so I touched his shirt and put ¡®Save you anytime you need ¨C Paintball¡¯ across it. Which he seemed to get a kick out of.


    With that, the two of them headed off, though they looked back several times and were holding an intense conversation on their way. Meanwhile, I reported the attack and capture via the Doephone app, before sighing as I looked down at the now-quiet man.


    ¡°Dude, you totally owe me breakfast for this shit.¡±

 Non-Canon 21 - Pack Is A Blabbermouth

    <div>


    ¡°Okay, okay, I promise, I¡¯ll try not to leave you guys behind like that,¡± Pack informed her lizards as several of them crawled over her arms and shoulders. She was walking through the alley toward Wren¡¯s shop. Her little buddies had insisted on showing her affection and protection almost nonstop ever since the night before, when she had gone off to break into that Ministry base without them. Well, without most of them. She¡¯d had Holiday in one of her pockets, just as an emergency backup if things went really wrong. And yet, even she was very clearly giving her the riot act for going off without the others.


    ¡°Trust me,¡± Dani informed them, ¡°you don¡¯t want to be caught by those people. We definitely don¡¯t want them to know we¡¯re involved with that. And I think they might figure out that one person showing up with a bunch of mutated lizards might have some connection to the other person who runs around with mutated lizards. What am I supposed to do, put Groucho Marx glasses on you?¡±


    She still wasn¡¯t sure that her friends were ready to accept that just yet, while reaching out to hit the buzzer for the door. ¡°Blame Paintball, he¡¯s the one who keeps coming up with all these dangerous ideas and somehow convinces us to go through with them. He¡¯s the one you should go be making those sad eyes at for being left out ¡±


    Again, she wasn¡¯t sure they were buying it, but before she could say anything else, Fred opened the back door and gestured for her to enter. ¡°They¡¯re already going through the stuff. Nothing groundbreaking yet.¡±


    Coming through the door, Pack started to speak up. ¡°I tell you, these guys must¡¯ve been pretty upset about being left behind, because¨Cwhat?¡± In mid-sentence, she had looked up, only to see a very familiar sight in front of her. Well, mostly familiar. Sure, the girl standing with the others had blonde hair instead of black with pink bangs, and she was wearing glasses along with clothes that didn¡¯t totally hide that she did actually have something of a figure, but it was absolutely, positively, ¡°Cassidy Evans?


    ¡°What the fuck?¡±


    Those last two words came from three different sources simultaneously. Pack was the first, blurting them right on the heels of saying the rich girl¡¯s name. The other two were Cassidy herself, and Paintball. The boy had lunged to his feet, adopting what Pack was pretty sure was a combative posture for some reason. Cassidy, meanwhile, was looking back and forth between Pack and the others, all of whom were staring as well.


    ¡°Uh.¡± Alloy started while pushing herself up. ¡°Paris Hilton? Karla Noven? Are we just blurting out rich heiresses'' names for some reason?¡±


    ¡°I wanna play!¡± Wren immediately announced, flying up closer to the ceiling excitedly. ¡°Uhhh¡­ umm¡­¡± She paused, head tilting. ¡°Oh darn it, I can¡¯t think of any rich girls. Wait, princesses are rich, right? Does it have to be a real person? How many points are movie characters worth?¡±


    Wait, was Cassidy here in disguise? Wait again, did these people not know--wait, she hadn¡¯t known what Cassidy looked like before meeting her at that fucking school. Shit! Somehow, Pack had managed to screw up seven ways from Sunday within two seconds of coming into the room. Why had she blurted out Cassidy¡®s name? Fuck! She¡¯d just¡­ she saw her and it came out. How the hell was she supposed to fix that now?


    With a cough, ¡®Cassidy¡¯ spoke up. ¡°Well, I guess we all know what body this is now, don¡¯t we?¡±


    As soon as she said that, Pack abruptly realized the truth. She did a quick double take. ¡°Wait, Raige?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Sierra now, actually,¡± Not-Cassidy informed her. ¡°Sierra Nevada. And this is uhh¡­¡± She glanced down at herself for a moment as though examining the body she was piloting before looking back up. ¡°I guess the new me looks like Cassidy Evans, huh? Isn¡¯t that weird, guys?¡±


    ¡°Super weird,¡± Paintball put in, his voice sounding incredibly strained. Apparently even he freaked out a bit upon discovering that the body he had helped procure for Raige-turned-Sierra was a dead ringer for the daughter of the richest people in the whole state. Which was fair. Pack was still freaking out about it and she actually knew the girl. At least somewhat.


    Actually, speaking of which, Paige should¡¯ve known what Cassidy looked like, right? She would¡¯ve immediately recognized her. As would Sierra herself, if she had Paige¡¯s memories. They were obviously faking not knowing her for¡­ some reason?


    ¡°Okay, hold on, wait.¡± Murphy blurted while gesturing almost wildly. ¡°Are you seriously saying that this body looks like Cassidy--wait. That Cassidy Evans? Rich--how would--¡± She stopped again, looking Sierra up and down. ¡°That is not what I expected Cassidy Evans to look like. Aren¡¯t you supposed to be taller? And have some big--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± Paintball piped up, hurriedly stepping over with a slightly lingering glance toward Pack. ¡°I uhh, um, well at least we know who uhh, who she is. I mean who her body was based on. Which is probably important. You know, if we wanna look into what Pittman--¡±


    ¡°How did you know what Cassidy Evans looks like?¡± Roald put in, looking at Pack curiously. ¡°You don¡¯t really seem like the type to follow all that celebrity stuff. And I don¡¯t think she¡¯s even in much of that. I don¡¯t remember ever seeing a magazine or whatever with her picture, do you guys?¡±


    ¡°Hey, yeah,¡± Murphy agreed. ¡°How do we know you¡¯re even right about this being Cassidy Evans¡¯ body? She seriously does not look like Cassidy Evans to me.¡± Again, she looked Sierra up and down. ¡°This does not scream billionaire heiress to me.¡±


    Thinking quickly, while everyone else turned to look at her, Pack managed to mutter, ¡°One of the other La Casa people brought up the idea of raiding the Evans¡¯ estate the other day. He had photos of the family and stuff, tried to make it a whole presentation. But Blackjack vetoed it. Said going after them was too dangerous. It¡¯d attract too much attention.¡±


    ¡°Uh, wait.¡± That was Roald again, turning toward Paige. ¡°You¡¯re rich too, right? Wouldn¡¯t you like¡­ recognize Cassidy Evans?¡±


    With an audible sigh, the girl made a face before gesturing. ¡°Yes, fine, I recognized her. We both did. But we were trying to maintain her privacy. It felt weird to tell you that Sierra is running around in a copy of Cassidy Evans¡¯ body. I mean, it¡¯s a weird sentence to even say out loud. We thought it was just going to be some anonymous body, and when we saw it was actually hers, we¡­ we thought about not using it at all.¡±


    ¡°She thought about not using it at all,¡± Sierra corrected. ¡°I was always going to. It might look like this Evans chick, but it¡¯s me. One hundred percent me. If she, or any of you, or anyone else happens to have a problem with that--¡±


    ¡°Calm down,¡± Paige interrupted, before focusing on Pack. The other girl could feel her gaze boring through her. ¡°Are you sure this teammate of yours isn¡¯t going to try to hit the Evans on his own?¡±


    ¡°Uh, one, he¡¯s not stupid enough to go against Blackjack,¡± Dani retorted, though she had no idea why she felt offended on behalf of the person she had literally made up. Maybe it was just the idea of any of her fellow La Casa people going against their leader? Yeah, that was probably it. ¡°And two, why should you care?¡± Yet again, she almost blurted out the wrong thing. Dani knew that Paige and Cassidy Evans had been at odds basically forever. Several people in that school had informed her of that within her first couple days of attending. But Pack wasn¡¯t supposed to know about it.


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    So, instead of following up that sentence with anything related to how Paige felt about Cassidy, Dani added, ¡°You don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to start targeting you instead, do you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to see him try,¡± Paige shot back. ¡°But no, that¡¯s not what I¡¯m worried about. I was worrying about him starting something with the Evans, getting them on the news, and having Cassidy Evans¡¯ face all over everyone¡¯s screens right as Sierra starts walking around like this. I mean sure, she changed her hair and all that, but still.¡±


    ¡°Just hold on a second,¡± Fred put in, having finally managed to recover a bit from his surprise. ¡°Are you all seriously saying that the body right there, the body we went through all that to get, is actually a copy of Cassidy Evans? Really? Why?¡± Asking that blunt question, he waited until they were all looking at him before elaborating. ¡°I mean why did he have her body? Come on, you said he was keeping it in some safe, hidden little tube thing, right? This wasn¡¯t a spur the moment thing. He deliberately created this body and then had it grow in that tube the whole time he was gone. So, why did he make that body? What was he going to do with it? Aren¡¯t these important questions you should all be asking? Because they seem pretty important to me.¡±


    ¡°Hey, yeah,¡± Alloy agreed, squinting at Sierra. ¡°Why would your dad want to have a body of the--wait hang on. She¡¯s like the daughter of the richest family in the state. Obviously, he wanted to abduct her and infiltrate their house. Do you have any idea how many secrets you could find out about a billionaire family by posing as their daughter? You could get, like, bank accounts, passwords, stock info, alarm codes¡­¡± She gave a low whistle then. ¡°I bet a seriously dedicated intruder could get enough information out of one afternoon of posing as Cassidy Evans wandering around her family¡¯s house and her dad¡¯s office to make this entire thing worth it.¡±


    Clearing his throat, Paintball started to speak up. ¡°Yeah, I mean, maybe he was--¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Murphy objected, ¡°How do we know they weren¡¯t in on it? I mean, what if this whole thing was about having someone build immortal cyborg bodies so they could plug themselves into them. You said that¡¯s what your dad wanted to do in the first place, right?¡± She was looking at Paige and Sierra. ¡°So maybe he got funding from the Evans in exchange for that and this body was just the first one he finished before he got scooped up and thrown in prison.¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t really think--¡± Paintball started again.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait,¡± Roald blurted while looking at Paige. ¡°You were saying your dad was all pissed at the Ministry, right? That¡¯s like, how he got arrested in the first place or whatever, because he was plotting stuff against them. So what if this is part of that plot too? I mean, what if he wasn¡¯t trying to steal money from the Evans or filling a contract for them? What if--¡±


    ¡°What if they¡¯re the Ministry?!¡± Murphy finished, blurting that with wide eyes. ¡°The richest family in the city running the city? Seriously, why didn¡¯t we think of that before?¡±


    Dani rocked backward on her heels while everyone else was reacting to that. Honestly, the thought of Cassidy Evans being part of some crime family was a mixture of incredibly weird and kind of hilarious. But then again, the thought of her being part of a rich billionaire family was weird and kind of hilarious too. She was not the type in either case, as far as Dani could tell.


    Wren, still hovering in the air, piped up curiously, ¡°I watched a TV thing about Mrs. Evans. She seemed nice.¡±


    ¡°Of course they seem nice,¡± Alloy retorted while her head shook, ¡°that¡¯s gotta be a front. I bet the real Sterling and Elena Evans like¡­ bash puppies and drown them in rivers or something.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± Paintball protested immediately. ¡°They¡¯re not cartoon villains. I mean, even if they were part of the Ministry--I mean even if they--I mean¡­¡± He trailed off, clearly floundering.


    Paige stepped in. ¡°He¡¯s right, we shouldn¡¯t just all jump to conclusions immediately. Even if they did know about this extra body thing, maybe they were just being eccentric rich people listening to my father¡¯s spiel about creating immortality and whatever. Then they started with their daughter. It doesn¡¯t necessarily mean that they were deeper involved than that. After all, it¡¯s not against the law to invest money into prototype Touched-Tech.¡±


    Alloy spoke up in a dark tone, glancing toward Pack. ¡°Yeah, and even if it was, they could just buy their way out of it. Money opens a lot of doors for the rich, and closes doors against investigators. Being rich has its privileges. You know all about that, right?¡± She glanced toward Paige, then turned back to Paintball. ¡°Maybe we should look into them.¡±


    ¡°Sounds fun to me,¡± Pack put in. ¡°I always wanted to try my hand at getting in that place.¡± She cracked her knuckles at the thought, already considering what sort of disguise she could use, and whether she could talk Eits into helping out. ¡°In fact, I might have a friend who could get through their household security. Maybe if we--¡±


    ¡°Okay, whoa, whoa, wait,¡± Paintball interrupted anxiously. ¡°Who said anything about getting in anywhere? You mean getting in the Evans¡¯ house? That¡¯s a bad idea. Trust me, you do not want to try to break in there. I know what you¡¯re thinking, and even Eits can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you don¡¯t know the security they¡¯ve got in that place,¡± Sierra noted. ¡°I¡¯m not saying they¡¯re supervillains, just that super or not, being a billionaire can buy an awful lot of protection. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they¡¯ve got their own personal, prototype security stuff or even Sell-Touched on staff, posing as ordinary servants. That gardener you¡¯re trying to sneak past might be, like, able to spy through plants, like the Sherwood guys. Or whatever. Maybe he spies through bricks, or maybe he¡¯s super strong. I dunno. The point is, breaking into that place is a bad idea.¡±


    Paige was nodding. ¡°Yeah, I do know a lot about the security they might have, because the Banners have some of it themselves. And trust me, it¡¯s not something you just use one teenage super hacker to get through. Using Eits to help sneak in that place is not going to work.¡±


    With a sigh, Paintball gestured that way. ¡°Yeah, see, like they said. We can¡¯t just go breaking into the mansion and wander around like we own the place to see if they¡¯ve got any secrets in there. It¡¯s too dangerous. So we should just--¡±


    Finally, Pack spoke up after having thought it through that. ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing we don¡¯t have to use Eits to break into that place. We don¡¯t have to break in at all. Not when we have Cassidy Evans standing right here in front of us.¡±


    Making a weird noise in the back of his throat, Paintball jerked that way, staring at Pack before blurting a confused, ¡°We what? I don¡¯t--what?¡±


    ¡°Dude, you really need to take a chill pill,¡± Pack informed him. ¡°I don¡¯t mean she¡¯s hiding under the counter or something. Look.¡± Turning, she pointed straight at Sierra. ¡°That¡¯s our Cassidy Evans. I mean, sure, we¡¯ve gotta get rid of the hair dye and all that. And fix her style to match, but seriously. If this Pittman jackass was building her out of the real Cassidy¡®s DNA, which he has to have if she still looks like her even years later, she¡¯s gotta match all the fingerprint and retinal scan shit they¡¯ve got in that place, right? She¡¯s perfect.¡±


    ¡°Ohhh,¡± Paige started hesitantly, ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s such--¡±


    ¡°Dude, that¡¯s brilliant!¡± Murphy exclaimed while punching her fist into her other hand. ¡°The Evans will never, ever suspect that their own daughter is spying on them. She can get through all their security and go right inside. She could wander through that whole house without anyone paying attention. Hell, I bet she visits her dad¡¯s office all the time to ask for a new yacht, or plane, or whatever. Sierra could go right in there and tell his secretary she¡¯s waiting for her daddy while he¡¯s at lunch. Then she¡¯d have free reign to jump on his computer.¡±


    ¡°G-guys, this is all moving really fast,¡± Paintball objected. ¡°Seriously, we just found out about Sierra looking like this girl, and we just got done with breaking into the Ministry¡¯s base. We need to slow down, or we¡¯re gonna get caught.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Paige quickly put in. ¡°It¡¯s an¡­ opportunity, sure. Absolutely. But this isn¡¯t something you just rush into immediately. How do we know that Sierra won¡¯t say something that tips them off immediately? We don¡¯t know how Cassidy acts around them. What if she calls her father ¡®Pops¡¯ or something and calling him ¡®Dad¡¯ immediately tips him off?¡±


    ¡°Pops?¡± Paintball echoed before quickly gesturing. ¡°I mean, yeah, like that. We don¡¯t know anything about the relationship. What if she doesn¡¯t visit her dad¡¯s office and her showing up there would be really weird? Or what if they¡¯ve got, like, codes inside the house that she should know?¡±


    ¡°So we find out that stuff,¡± Roald noted. ¡°We take our time and find out everything we need to know for Sierra to pull off posing as the real Cassidy Evans so she can go through that house without tipping anyone off.¡±


    Pack nodded slowly, smiling behind her mask as she stared at the girl in question. ¡°Yeah, that could work. Paige, you go to school with her. You can give Sierra enough to get her started on being more like the real Cassidy Evans, then like¡­ I dunno, talk to people who know the girl better or whatever. It might take awhile, but we can find out enough to help her get through a little trip through that house to see what she can find.¡±


    Wren cheered at that, pumping her hands in the air. ¡°Whoo, spy stuff! Isn¡¯t this great, Paintball?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ yeah,¡± the boy replied, voice sounding weird and strained.


    ¡°It¡¯s totally freaking fantastic.¡±

 Schooling 24-08

    The cops who showed up to take the would-be mugger into custody were a bit more intense about the questioning than I thought they might be as they asked me what had happened and exactly what I saw. At first I was a little confused about that, then I realized it probably had to do with where we were. The school for rich, untouchable kids (like me) was right over there. Hell, he had been trying to mug one of those kids in particular when it came to Jae. And Damarko might not have gone to our school, but some part of me hoped these cops would be upset about another teenager being targeted anyway. And even if not, it still made sense that they¡¯d take this a bit more seriously with how close we were to the school.


    That and I was pretty sure my parents probably had some special rule when it came to anything happening here. I wouldn¡¯t have been at all surprised if the report had set off some sort of alert for them to send in people loyal to the Ministry. And that had to be a stressful report to make.


    In any case, they took my explanation and then strongly encouraged me to go to school, making it clear that being Star-Touched, even one with a sanctioned team like my own was becoming, wasn¡¯t an excuse not to attend. There were still truancy rules and all that, after all. I gave them some joke about my first period teacher being a lot scarier than Cu¨¦lebre, then took off.


    Of course, I could¡¯ve said that my school was literally right across the street, but there was no way in hell I was gonna give them that much information. While I might not have loved being mistaken for a middle school-aged boy in my civilian life, it was entirely too useful to just throw away like that. Besides, as impossible as it was for them to identify who they thought was one random thirteen year old guy in Detroit, ¡®teen person who attends the richest, most exclusive school in the city while only being this tall¡¯ would narrow it down a lot more.


    So, I had to play it up as though it was going to be a long trip to get to class on time. Then I simply made sure no one was following me and took a quick round-about trip to come up to the school from the far side. Between that and waiting for the cops to show up and then telling them the whole story in the first place, that half hour I¡¯d had turned into only having about five minutes before class started. Which, to be fair, the cops had probably only shown up fast enough for me to have any time before class because of the whole ¡®school for rich kids¡¯ thing. If this had taken place in a different zip code, I¡¯d probably still be sitting around waiting for them by the time lunch rolled around.


    Obviously, there was one person in particular I was trying to look for while making my way through the halls. And I spotted her standing next to Amber and a couple other people, having a clearly animated conversation. Well, the others were animated. Jae was still very much closed in on herself and only answering their questions in a quiet voice with a couple words. It looked like Amber was doing most of the talking. I made it close enough to hear what was actually being said just in time for her to announce, ¡°And you know Ms. Mesters wouldn¡¯t accept that as an excuse. She¡¯d probably try to put the cops themselves in detention.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s going to detention?¡± I asked, forcing myself not to look too interested. For just a second, I also reflexively tried not to look as tired as I was, thanks to paint-skating my way in a great big circle as fast as I could just to avoid letting the police realize I was going to the same school I had made a point of heading away from. But honestly, if these guys saw me pant a few times and realized all of that from it, they deserved to figure out the truth, because damn.


    ¡°Dude,¡± one of the guys informed me. ¡°Jae was nearly killed.¡± It was Mike Phillin. He was a tall, lanky blond who liked to wear open flannel shirts over Looney Tunes tees, and cargo shorts. In fact, I¡¯d never seen him wearing anything else. Even the few times we¡¯d gone to the pool, he didn¡¯t dress out to swim.


    Amber made a point of cutting in. ¡°She wasn¡¯t nearly killed, some guy just tried to mug her and our friend Damarko across the street. Probably thought he could score a better haul from rich kids.¡± Her eyes glanced toward me as she added. ¡°But Paintball showed up. Right, Jae?¡±


    Jae, for her part, gave a short nod. She mostly looked like she didn¡¯t want to be there at all, especially not while being the subject of attention for so many people. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a big deal,¡± she replied quietly. ¡°We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Paintball was in the right place at the right time.¡±


    ¡°You got saved by a superhero, dude,¡± one of the other guys put in. ¡°You gotta admit, that¡¯s pretty damn cool.¡± With a heavy sigh, he lamented, ¡°I wish I could get saved by a superhero.¡±


    ¡°Keep screwing around with Angie and you¡¯re gonna need a superhero to save you from Dustin,¡± Mike informed him. ¡°You see the way he was looking at you earlier?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all gonna need superheroes,¡± I quickly pointed out, ¡°if we don¡¯t get to class.¡±


    One of the girls who was standing around near the back of the group made a show of rolling her eyes. ¡°Oh please, you¡¯re Cassidy Evans. What¡¯re they gonna do, put you in detention with only one person fanning you with a palm leaf instead of two? Make you use an amateur personal masseuse instead of a professional? Serve ice spring water with one lime instead of¨C¡±


    ¡°We get it, Lucy,¡± Amber retorted. ¡°Now how about we go to class so we don¡¯t all end up finding out how terrible one palm leaf, amateur personal masseuse detention actually is?¡±


    Thankfully, everyone dispersed at that point. I walked along with Jae and Amber, glancing that way. ¡°Seriously, there really was a mugger and all that? Are you okay?¡±


    Her head bobbed a little, as she murmured, ¡°I¡¯m fine. It wasn¡¯t a big deal. We didn¡¯t even know anything was wrong until Paintball had it under control.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Amber confirmed, ¡°apparently the guy never got anywhere near them.¡± She paused briefly before adding, ¡°I just hope Paintball made it to school on time. From what I¡¯ve heard, cops look the other way for a lot of stuff Star-Touched do, but skipping class isn¡¯t one of them. You know, unless it¡¯s a big emergency or something.¡±


    ¡°Rutherford¡¯s near here,¡± I pointed out with a shrug, naming the middle school we¡¯d gone to before. It was also the one Izzy was attending. ¡°Maybe he goes there.¡±


    Jae murmured an agreement with that, before splitting off to head into class. Which left Amber and me standing there. The other girl gave me a brief look, keeping her voice low enough that I could barely hear her. ¡°Thanks for jumping in back there. Lucky you were around.¡±


    Blushing just a bit, I shrugged and kept my own voice low as well. ¡°Like she said, it really wasn¡¯t a big deal. Just some guy trying to hit a couple rich high school kids for cash. I¡¯m pretty sure he was homeless and desperate. And now he¡¯s in jail, so he won¡¯t hurt anyone else.¡± Even as I said that, part of me wondered if I should follow up on it. If the guy was so hard-up he was trying to rob high school students in the middle of the day¨Cokay early morning, but still. If he was that desperate, maybe I should go see if I could help him somehow.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Yeah. The more I thought about that, the more it sounded like the right idea. I was going to find out what was up with that guy, and if I could do anything useful. I wasn¡¯t even sure how to go about that at the moment, and yet I wanted to try.


    For now, however, we had class. So I set the thought aside and headed in. Time to put all the Touched-related thoughts on the back burner for a few hours.


    ********


    Though, apparently, not nearly as many hours as I¡¯d thought. Just before my study hall-lunch combination break, I got a text on my phone from Amber, asking me to meet her and Paige near the north-east stairwell instead of heading for the cafeteria. She added a bit a few seconds later promising to have food for me.


    So, slipping away from the others when the time came, I made my way to the area in question. Sure enough, Amber was there, though I didn¡¯t see Paige. As I approached, the dark-haired girl offered me a wrapped cheeseburger from a nearby fast food place, and gestured over her shoulder. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s this way.¡±


    ¡°It?¡± I echoed while unwrapping the burger. ¡°What¡¯s ¡®it?¡¯ And where¡¯s Paige?¡±


    Rather than answer immediately, Amber led me down the hall. We went around the corner by a back stairwell, to a spot I¡¯d never really paid much attention to before. There wasn¡¯t much space there, and from the rest of the hall, it just looked like the corridor ended at the stairwell. You had to get really close to even see that there was a narrow area there. And a door. It was unlabeled, and had one of those keypad locks.


    ¡°Paige checked the cameras,¡± Amber assured me. ¡°None of them point back here, and she disabled the lock and alarm.¡± With that, she reached out to pull the door open, gesturing for me to go ahead.


    So, I stepped through the doorway and into near pitch-blackness. Reflexively adjusting myself for the steep set of cement stairs beyond, I descended a couple steps before pausing. ¡°Huh.¡±


    ¡°You knew the steps were there, didn¡¯t you?¡± Amber put in from behind me. A moment later, her finger flicked a switch, making a dangling light bulb come on to illuminate the stairs themselves. ¡°Never been here before and you were stepping into darkness, and you still knew there were steps like that.¡±


    Looking down the stairs toward the still pretty dark room below, I grimaced. ¡°That was some way to test my navigation ability.¡± Absently, I took a bite of the burger. It was pretty good. It had extra pickles on it, which I hadn¡¯t even realized Amber knew I liked. Belatedly, I realized it was probably Paige who had gotten it. Paige, who knew what I liked from those memories that I no longer had. It was a thought that made me swallow hard.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Amber informed me, ¡°I was ready to catch you if it didn¡¯t kick in. Super speed, remember?¡±


    Together, we went down the stairs to what turned out to be a large, open cement area. More lights came on once we were there, so I could see better. It looked like an unfinished basement, though quite a bit larger. This place must¡¯ve taken up as much space as several classrooms above us. I could see a few boxes in one corner, along with a bench press and a couple other random things.


    Paige, who was standing by the light switch, stepped away from it and nodded at me. ¡°We thought it¡¯d be better to talk out of sight so all the gossipers wouldn¡¯t wonder why we aren¡¯t at each other¡®s throat¡®s all of a sudden.¡±


    ¡°Which,¡± Amber put in, ¡°we do need to do something about. Something tells me neither of you want to go back to the way things were.¡± When we both nodded firmly, she shrugged. ¡°So, we¡¯ll figure out something. Just maybe not immediately.¡±


    Turning in a circle, I looked around the strangely empty cement room. ¡°What even is this place?¡±


    ¡°It was supposed to be a storage area,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°At least, that¡¯s what the blueprints said. But there¡¯s something else that wasn¡¯t on the blueprints.¡± With those cryptic words, she gestured at me. ¡°I think you can figure it out?¡±


    My brow furrowed as I stared at her before slowly walking forward. I moved to the middle of the room, then turned in a circle again. They were both watching me expectantly as I frowned and tried to focus. After a moment of that, I spoke quietly. ¡°Turn the lights off again.¡± Paige and Amber shrugged at one another before the former did just that, finger flicking the switch. We were cast into darkness once more aside from very dim light coming from the stairs.


    Taking a couple steps to one side, I paused, then turned and took a few steps the other way. My hand rose and then I pivoted thirty degrees before walking forward. Stopping after a few more steps, I put my hand against the wall I had stopped in front of and announced, ¡°There¡¯s something behind this.¡±


    The lights came back on, as the two girls stepped up on either side of me. They looked at each other again before Amber nodded. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. Show her.¡±


    Paige reached out to the wall, or rather, to a slight indent on it. Her finger found something there, and there was a click before the wall slid smoothly aside to reveal a tunnel beyond.


    Staring that way, I turned back to them. ¡°The Ministry put this in, didn¡¯t they?¡±


    Paige nodded once. ¡°Yeah, we think so. From what I can figure out, it¡¯s there to evacuate their important children, or to bring people in if they need to.¡±


    Amber added, ¡°They made it look like a storage room on the blueprints, but they don¡¯t actually use it for that. If anyone happens to find this place, it¡¯s just an unused room. But it¡¯s big enough to bring some pretty heavy forces in if they need to.¡±


    My breath left me in a sharp exhale before I squinted at both of them. ¡°Are you guys sure we¡¯re not being recorded or anything right now?¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± Paige assured me, ¡°I checked everything very thoroughly. They had a few alarms, but no active security. This place isn¡¯t that important to them. I mean, the tunnel is, but even that¡¯s not a dealbreaker. if push came to shove, this is a rich kids school and it would make sense for them to have an evacuation tunnel. It¡¯s not like its existence reveals anything about the Ministry themselves. I checked where it goes, and it just leads to an empty lot a few blocks away. It being found would be annoying for them, but not that bad.¡±


    Absorbing all that, I stared down that dimly lit tunnel for another moment. ¡°My parents really are ready for trouble, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°In a lot of ways,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°But not all of them. We just have to be careful.¡± She paused then, and I had the impression that she was going to say one thing before changing her mind. Instead, she asked, ¡°You were out in costume this morning?¡±


    I shrugged before turning away. ¡°Could you close that thing? I don¡¯t feel comfortable with it open like that. And yeah, I needed to go for a run and clear my head. Turns out to be a good thing, at least as far as Jae and that Damarko guy are concerned.¡±


    Amber cleared her throat before nodding. ¡°Yeah, trust me, Jae¡¯s glad you were there. That could¡¯ve gotten messy. The guy seemed pretty desperate, from what they said.¡±


    Paige sighed, leaning against the wall after closing it once more. ¡°I wonder if that¡¯s thanks to this whole gang war thing. I mean, maybe the guy got driven out of his normal area, or someone he cares about is in the hospital, or something.¡±


    Since they were thinking about that sort of thing too, I told them about my plan to check in on him later. To my relief, neither of them thought it was a stupid idea. Amber even offered to come with me.


    Putting that thought aside, I looked back-and-forth between them. ¡°But, something tells me we didn¡¯t come down here just so Paige could ask me about stuff she could¡¯ve texted me for. And, as fun as it was, I don¡¯t think it was just to check if my super-special navigation sense would save me from falling down the stairs.¡±


    ¡°That was important though,¡± Paige pointed out mildly. ¡°Think about it, you found a hidden room just by focusing. You had no idea it was there and you still found it.¡±


    ¡°I mean,¡± I pointed out, ¡°I had some idea there was something here from what you said. But yeah, finding out like that was kind of weird. And cool, right?¡±


    ¡°Very cool,¡± Amber agreed. ¡°But it proves you¡¯ve got skills you¡¯re not really using that well. Skills that you could be honing or learning about.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re down here,¡± Paige explained. ¡°We have the virtual reality place for combat training, and will do exercises with everyone else. But right here, right now, we want to do some tests.¡±


    Amber put in, ¡°You¡¯ve been doing this for a couple months, so you¡¯ve got a pretty good basic foundation for what you¡¯re doing. Now, it¡¯s time to understand some of the finer details.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, I asked, ¡°Are you guys sure you¡¯re not just making fun of me because it took me so long to figure out what the pink paint does?¡±


    Paige chuckled slightly. ¡°Maybe a little bit, but this really is important. You only get better when you really understand your power. We need to get some hard numbers, measure things, figure out exactly how this navigation and aiming power works, see what amount of paint causes how much effect. We need to see how strong you can be, how fast, how much weight the paint can pull or project with the red and blue, all of it. We need to figure it out.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s probably going to take more than one lunch period,¡± Amber pointed out. ¡°So why don¡¯t we get down to business?¡±

 Schooling 24-09

    Through the rest of the free period and all of lunch, Amber and Paige helped me run through a bunch of tests with my various paints. They wanted to help me get firm numbers on exactly how the paints affected things. Or at least as firm as we could manage. Which basically meant writing a lot of things down while using varying amounts of paint. And measuring a lot.


    First, however, they tested my ability to navigate a dark room. Paige brought in some chairs and the two of them blindfolded me while moving the chairs to various positions. I was able to navigate my way through the room from chair to chair perfectly. Somehow I knew exactly where they were. On the other hand, I had no idea where Paige and Amber themselves were. If they were in my way, I would bump right into them without any clue. My extra-special navigation sense only extended to objects and things like plants, not to people. And, apparently, not to the clothes they were wearing or anything. Furniture, walls, that sort of thing I could sense just fine. I had no idea why it worked that way, but it did. We tried multiple variations of that with the same results. I could sense my way through perfect darkness as long as there wasn¡¯t a person blocking me. Paige also borrowed a couple frogs from the biology room, with basically the same result. I couldn¡¯t sense them. I could sense the flowers Amber set up, but not people or animals.


    Both of them also wanted to test my aiming ability. Under Paige¡¯s direction, I put multiple targets on the wall of varying sizes. Then I marked lines on the floor at different distances that she measured out. No matter how far back I moved or how small the target was, I was able to hit dead center with shots of my paint. Then Paige handed me a baseball, and I did the exact same thing. I could chuck the ball from the far side of the room, roughly thirty meters away, and hit a target the size of a dime. I could do the same thing with that blindfold on, as long as I looked at the target first and had the image of it in my head. Nor did anything change when Paige had me try with a paintball (hah) gun. I could still hit every target just fine with little effort.


    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s not fair,¡± Amber noted while shaking her head. ¡°Super accuracy and navigating in the dark would be like¡­ main powers for some people. For you it¡¯s just extra.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I still don¡¯t get to teleport or phase through walls,¡± I retorted. ¡°So you¡¯re ahead of me on that. Plus your super speed is a lot faster than mine. And I¡¯m pretty sure your invulnerability tops my orange toughness.¡±


    We teased each other a little more like that before getting to the actual paint testing. Starting with purple, since that was relatively easy to measure. Basically, Paige brought us over to that bench press and we tested how much each of us could lift without any help at all. In my case, it was¡­ not great. But in my defense, I was small and¨Cyeah. I could do like forty-five pounds. Which felt pretty sad, but that wasn¡¯t anything new. There was a reason I¡¯d gotten into skating and running rather than something like the hammer toss or discus throw.


    Amber was a bit better than me on that front, getting up to about eighty pounds. Then there was Paige, who, without any help at all, was able to lift five hundred pounds. The bench press, which she had brought in before I even arrived, was one of the special Touched-Tech variety. Rather than have a bunch of heavy discs on it that had to be moved on and off, the bar itself simply increased its own apparent weight (really just how much it resisted being lifted up from the resting position) based on what you input into the little display thing on the side. This one could go all the way up to about eight thousand pounds of resistance, though you had to input a special code to go that high and basically promise that you were Touched and had a Touched spotter.


    Once we had a baseline for how much we could lift, I started with the paint. Rather than just painting our hands or anything like that, Paige had all of us measure ourselves and then worked out how much of our bodies I would need to paint to do five percent of the body, then ten percent, and so on. She had me mark lines on our bodies with a different paint color, starting from our feet and going up. Then all I had to do was fill in that amount and activate it while we were lifting.


    After a lot of testing, we found that, at least in the smaller amounts, it didn¡¯t really matter how much paint someone had on them. Anywhere up to about ten percent did the same thing. Namely, it tripled someone¡¯s strength. So I went from being able to lift forty five pounds to being able to lift a hundred and thirty-five. Over that, the strength increase went up more for every ten percent of the body that was covered. At twenty percent of coverage, strength was increased by four times, thirty percent increased it by five times, forty by six, fifty by seven, sixty by eight, and so on. It continued that way all the way up to full body coverage strength, which increased strength by twelve times. With basically my full body covered in paint except for my eyes and mouth, I could lift five hundred and forty pounds.


    All of which also meant that Amber went from lifting eighty pounds to lifting nine hundred and sixty, and Paige increased from five hundred to six thousand. Which was a bit more impressive than Amber and me.


    So after testing all three of us multiple times, that was what we came out with. From a tiny bit all the way up to ten percent coverage, it was a flat three times increase. Adding more increased that all the way up to a twelve times increase for full body coverage. That was a good enough test for me to call it definitive, though Paige wanted me to try it on the others eventually so we¡¯d have more data points. I was also pretty sure she drooled a little when she said ¡®data points.¡¯ Which was kinda weird, to be honest.


    In any case, from there we tested speed by running from one end of the room to the other. We did that a few times without any paint in order to get a baseline. The distance was, according to Paige, exactly thirty meters, or slightly over the length of a professional basketball court by a few feet. We ran from one end to the other, then back again, which was about sixty meters. That time, I actually beat Amber. She was able to run that distance in nine seconds, while I made it in eight. In my case, that was a speed of seven point five meters per second. Paige, of course, beat both of us with a six second run, or ten meters per second. She was really fast when she wanted to be.


    Again, we did the same ¡®add paint five percent at a time¡¯ thing. Every percent of our bodies I covered in paint increased our speed by two percent. So, with half of our bodies covered, our speed was increased by one hundred percent, making us twice as fast. I was able to make the run in four seconds, boosting my speed to fifteen meters per second. Amber did it in about four and a half seconds, raising her speed from six point six to thirteen point two meters per second. Then there was Paige, whose time dropped from six seconds to three. She was doing twenty meters per second.


    Once I covered our entire bodies in green paint, our speed was increased by two hundred percent. Which dropped my sixty meter run time down to about two point six seconds, or twenty-two point five meters per second. Amber got down to about three seconds, and Paige could now run it in two seconds, given her speed increased from ten meters per second with no paint, to thirty meters per second with her entire body covered.


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    Of course, I was also able to simply paint a green line on the floor and speed people up that way. I¡¯d already tested that once when I first got my powers, and had clocked myself at about a thirty mile per hour run that way. That was a speed of thirteen point four meters per second, or just slightly under how fast I was with half my body painted.


    The results were basically the same in this case. Our sixty meters was just under four percent of a mile. With the green line down and active, I was able to run the sixty meters in just about four point five seconds, as opposed to my four second time while half-covered. The other two got similar results, so I was willing to go out on a limb and estimate that running on a green line was roughly equivalent to having half our bodies covered. Close enough, anyway.


    Then there was the yellow paint, which we tested the same way. Half our bodies being covered lowered our speed to about fifty percent of what it should have been. I went from being able to run sixty meters in eight seconds, to needing sixteen seconds. Or it would have, if my paint lasted that long. Paige took how far I¡¯d gotten in that ten seconds and extrapolated from there. She did the same thing with the full coverage. Full coverage took speed down to about ten percent of normal speed. When I was running flat-out, or trying to, I was actually only able to move about three quarters of a meter per second. After the full ten seconds of the effect, I had only moved a bit under eight meters. Ten seconds to run twenty-five feet. At that rate, it would¡¯ve taken me almost a minute and a half to run the full sixty meters. If, again, my paint lasted that long or I kept renewing it.


    Again, the other two had similar results, and yellow paint on the floor was roughly equivalent to having fifty percent of our bodies covered.


    And it wasn¡¯t just personal speed that was slowed. Everything slowed down. Or sped up, depending on the paint color. We timed how long it took various objects to fall without any paint, with green paint, and with yellow paint. Again, all that seemed to matter was what percentage of the object was covered. If it was completely covered, even if the object was small, it got one hundred percent of the effect. Dropping a coin completely covered in yellow paint made it fall at ten percent of its normal speed.


    Of course, those were the relatively easy colors to test. Strength increase, speed increase, and speed decrease. We knocked those ones out of the park. We still had orange toughness, red pulling, blue pushing, black silencing, white light, and the pink¡­. bouncy/stretchy bit. Those were going to require a bit more creativity.


    For multiple reasons, they were going to have to wait. Not only did we need more equipment for testing those, but we were also out of time. Both our free and lunch periods were about over, and none of us wanted to deal with having to explain ourselves for skipping class. Not to mention the attention all three of us doing it would attract. Besides, Paige said she had some ideas for testing the red and blue paints, but we were going to have to go somewhere else to do it. Still, it was nice to have some actual numbers to go with some of my paint. The fact that they definitely increased things by a percentage rather than a set amount was¡­ very interesting. It made me wonder how much I could end up helping someone who already had significantly enhanced strength or speed.


    Before we left, however, Amber asked, ¡°And you¡¯re absolutely sure you don¡¯t have any other colors you haven¡¯t found? Pink was the last one?¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°I¡¯ve tried every color I can think of, and nothing else comes out. That¡¯s it. Red, blue, green, purple, yellow, orange, pink, black, and white. I can adjust the shades of them and all that, especially when I¡¯m making instant-pictures. But it doesn¡¯t change the effect. Light purple does the same as dark purple as long as it¡¯s covering the same amount. Surface area is all that matters, not shade.¡±


    ¡°But where does the navigation-sense come in?¡± the dark-haired girl demanded. ¡°I mean, I have the ability to sense what direction I¡¯m facing or moving because that¡¯s tied directly into my power. I can even understand why you have the artistic power. That¡¯s linked to the whole making paint thing, sort of. Like, you can subconsciously sense and control exactly where the colors are going, to the point of making perfect pictures. I guess that makes sense. But how are you sensing where objects are in the darkness?¡±


    ¡°Are you sensing colors?¡± Paige asked. ¡°I mean, maybe it is basically the same thing. If you can make perfect images because you control exactly where the colors are going that perfectly, maybe you can sense colors in the environment. Colors you¡¯re not even responsible for making.¡±


    I shrugged helplessly. ¡°If that¡¯s true, how come I can¡¯t sense the colors on your shirt, or the color of your eyes, or anything like that. Remember, my navigation sense poops out completely when it comes to living things. Or anything you¡¯re wearing, anything in your pockets, and so on. If it¡¯s on you or connected to you, I can¡¯t sense it. And that¡¯s a lot of colors to just be blind to if this is right.¡±


    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s just a weakness you have,¡± Amber offered. ¡°Your power doesn¡¯t work on living beings or up to a certain distance around their bodies. A lot of powers tend to have some sort of balance like that. You know, like how mine are dependent on which direction I''m moving.¡±


    ¡°It works on plants though,¡± Paige put in. ¡°You used it to get around the dark forest when we were¡­ you know.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Right, so it¡¯s just animals that block it. Wait, hang on, is that the source of my aiming power too? I mean, if I¡¯m subconsciously sensing where colors are and all that, maybe I¡¯m just sensing exactly how to get one color to another. The color of the ball to the color on the wall, or whatever. Or the specific part of that color. I dunno. Shapes, colors, all that. Maybe that¡¯s it? Is it as simple as just ¡®my ability to create images is so good it extends all the way to knowing where every color and thus every object in the environment around me is, and exactly how to move one color slash object to another?¡¯¡±


    We needed to get to class, but Paige had me do one more test for that. Namely, I threw a tennis ball at both of them while they were standing still and also while they were moving. Including while they were moving with green paint speed boost. My aim was good, especially for the standing still part, but not nearly as perfect as it was for non-animal targets. I was generally able to hit them, just not very specific parts of them if they were moving too quickly.


    ¡°Okay, so I think you guys are right,¡± Paige finally decided. ¡°Somehow, you have some sort of ¡®shape and color¡¯ sense or whatever. That¡¯s allowing you to navigate and aim things, as well as draw perfectly. It seems to get disrupted a bit by animals. But it still works somewhat even then, since you can hit us. I think you just have a hard time consciously using it that way. It works enough for you to make one color hit another, like when you throw the ball, but not specifically enough to hit a certain part of that color. The whole animal slash human thing disrupts your sense, for some reason.¡±


    I was still thinking about that, and what it meant as we carefully left our secret room (or the Ministry¡¯s secret room, rather) and made our way back to the regular school area.


    Honestly, I knew that Paige had thrown herself into this so firmly specifically to distract herself from worrying about Irelyn. But that was okay, it was past time for me to actually understand how all my powers worked. If I was going to get better at all this, I needed to understand exactly what I could do. Especially when it came to things like my navigation sense and accuracy, which were apparently derived from the same thing, if our theory was right.


    So yes, Paige was obviously worried. And I was sure Sierra was as well. But hopefully, we would be onto the next stage of the rescue plan by the time school was over. Assuming nothing went wrong, Wren should have the location tracker thing ready by then, and we could use that to find out exactly where Breakwater was, then use that to make them get Irelyn and Trivial off the island.


    But of course, tracking down the location of the world¡¯s most secure and dangerous supervillain prison, and then forcing the leaders of that prison to do what we wanted them to was hardly the most dangerous thing on my agenda today.


    After all, I still had to go over to Arleigh¡¯s for dinner.

 Schooling 24-10

    As promised, Wren had the tracking device done by the time we met over there when school was over. In this case, ¡®we¡¯ meant Paige, Sierra, and me. Well, aside from Fred and Wren themselves, of course. Murphy, Roald, and Peyton all weren¡¯t going to be able to make it for a while thanks to things they had to do at home. The last thing we wanted was for their families to get annoyed or upset about them being gone too much. Especially in Murphy and Roald¡¯s case. With Murphy¡¯s brother¡­ dead, and their parents still in prison, Roald¡¯s older sister had a lot of pressure on her. She needed all the help she could get, which meant those two had to be around when she needed them. Obviously, that was understandable.


    But, the three of us were here, so we watched as Wren put her hand on top of what looked like an ancient Apple 2e computer, the kind from like forty years earlier with the tiny horizontal main part attached to a keyboard with a tiny monitor set on top. Seriously, this thing looked positively archaic. If you counted Sierra as having only been alive for like a month (or less, if you went by how long she¡¯d actually had her body), I was pretty sure the computer was just about as old as her, Paige, Wren, and me all put together. Somewhere in there anyway.


    But of course, it didn¡¯t look like that under the hood anymore. Wren had done a lot of upgrading and changing things. When she hit the spacebar button, an incredibly detailed color map of the world appeared. At the moment, it showed the whole planet slowly rotating around in a circle while small words under it said to input coordinates and that it was waiting for connection. While we were watching, the young Tech-Touched took a cell phone and connected it via cord to the back of the computer. The ¡®waiting for connection¡¯ line on the screen changed to ¡®actively tracking.¡¯ There was even a smiley face emoji after that, as well as what I thought were supposed to be randomly colored firework splashes.


    ¡°Um, if¡­ if it works,¡± Wren started to explain, ¡°it¡¯ll track any connection no matter how they try to hide it. But it¡¯ll take longer the more they¡¯re protecting it. And I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ve got a lot of blocking stuff over there. I mean, I would, and they¡¯re a lot smarter than me. And they have more money, more resources, more time, more¨C¡± She stopped herself in mid-sentence, shaking her head. ¡°Anyway, uh, we should try it with something else first. I mean, I tried it already, but you should see for yourself. You know, before we actually try the big thing.¡±


    Yeah, she was obviously nervous about this whole situation. And who could blame her? I was basically shaking in my pace-skates as it was, and I wasn¡¯t the one responsible for building this thing that we were trying to use to beat Breakwater security. The kid had a lot of pressure on her. Too much, really. It wasn¡¯t fair. But then, not much about this entire situation was.


    Reaching out, I squeezed her shoulder so she would look at me. ¡°Wren, trust me, each of these people by themselves is not smarter than you. You¡¯re right that they¡¯ve got more resources, more time, and all that. But they¡¯re not ready for you.¡± With a smile, I gestured. ¡°So, how do we want to test this thing first? Would it work if we tried calling the phone we used to call the island in the first place? You said that thing physically moves the signal to other towers, so¡­ wait, would this thing still work then? What if that¡¯s what they do?¡±


    Paige spoke up before Wren could. ¡°There¡¯s no way that¡¯s what they do. They use signal jammers, not signal movers. They don¡¯t want any signal getting out at all. Our father must be using some sort of direct-link satellite phone. My guess is that he¡¯s built something on the island that points out into space, and when a satellite comes into range, he gets a connection.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably too big and unwieldy to move around,¡± Sierra put in. ¡°Plus it would have to be hidden so the guards over there can¡¯t see it on their monitors. Which means he can only use it when the satellite moves into range.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Right, so when we do this, we¡¯re gonna have to just leave a message and tell him to call us. Like at ten pm, the exact time he told me to have Paige ready to answer the phone before. I¡¯ll be done with dinner at Arleigh¡¯s by then.¡± After saying that, I grimaced and held up my crossed fingers. ¡°At least I really, super-duper hope so.¡±


    We agreed to tell him to call back at ten, then moved on to the actual testing the tracker part. As it turned out, Wren had a jammer of her own. It wasn¡¯t as good as her actual untraceable phone, because it didn¡¯t move the signal so much as¡­ move¡­ pieces of junk data into the¨Cyeah, I had no idea. She explained it, but there were a lot of technical words. The basic gist seemed to be that it obscured the signal source by throwing a bunch of false data in there. Whatever it was, she said it would work to block most tracking systems, but it would be obvious what was happening. There was no subtlety to it, or anything. The ¡®move the signal somewhere else¡¯ solution was like a magician deftly using misdirection, whereas this one was like throwing down a flashbang. Everyone who saw it would know exactly what happened.


    She showed us how it worked using an ordinary, over-the-counter tracking device. Which, apparently, was something she had one of her online Tech-Touched friends send over. The thing was essentially used by city and state-level authorities to track people past most low-to-mid level blockers. Essentially, it was meant to bypass the security measures local gangs used to hide where they were calling from. As with most situations like this, that whole thing was an arms race between what criminals could get their hands on, and how easily police could counter it. This was an older model that was only sold to complete rubes. Useless for evading any but the lowest type of search. But, it would work for demonstration and testing purposes.


    To that end, Wren activated the jammer on another phone and called the one attached to the commercial tracking system. We all watched that small, hand-held screen as Wren showed us the way dozens of different addresses, some on other continents, flashed across it. The jammer was doing its job. Next, she called the blocked phone using her own brand new system. Again, the jammer was working, at least at first. The pointer on the world map kept dancing around for a moment, going from the United States over to Europe then down to Africa and up to Canada. It jerked almost violently, before moving to the United States again. Only it ended up in California, starting to focus in there. My mouth opened to say something, but Wren held a finger up to stop me, staring intently at it while whispering, ¡°Come on, come on¡­¡±


    Sure enough, only about ten more seconds of that followed before the pointer on the screen abruptly spun sideways, the view pulling out of the San Francisco neighborhood it had previously been zooming in on. It went north-east, all the way to Michigan, then zoomed in on Detroit. It took the thing another ten seconds or so to get that far, but finally it was pointing straight at a satellite view of this neighborhood.


    As soon as that happened, Wren jumped up and down, pumping her fist into the air while cheering. ¡°I knew you could do it! Good boy!¡± She bounced over and hugged the machine. ¡°Who¡¯s a good boy? Who¡¯s gonna get a treat today? You¡¯re getting a polish and a cleaning and you can be plugged into the best outlet for electricity. Yummy yum yum, power.¡±


    Okay, that was both amusing and adorable. A very slight giggle escaped me before I clamped down on it and cleared my throat. ¡°Thanks, Wren. That¡¯s pretty awesome. And yeah, if this thing does its job, we¡¯ll make sure it gets all the yummy electricity it could ever need.¡± That said, I paused before exhaling slowly. ¡°So, uh, I guess since it¡¯s about as working as we¡¯re gonna get it, we should call and leave that message?¡±


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    Sierra spoke up. ¡°Use the special phone with the tracker anyway. Even if you don¡¯t expect him to answer, there¡¯s always a chance. And I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll accept it if we just tell him ¡®oops, hang on, let us call you right back. We weren¡¯t expecting to be able to get a hold of you this easily.¡¯¡± Her eyes met mine before she pointedly added, ¡°We can¡¯t screw this up. Not now.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± I promised her. It was still strange looking straight into my own eyes like that. It probably always would be, and made me wonder briefly if this is what it would¡¯ve been like to be born with a twin sister. But I focused on the main point. ¡°I promise, we¡¯re gonna use him to find out where Irelyn, Flea, and Trivial are, and get them off that island.¡±


    Fred, who was busy doing some paperwork again, looked up from it and put in, ¡°You¡¯re sure that whole thing isn¡¯t gonna lead them right to our door? I really don¡¯t want to test these defenses you¡¯ve been putting in against people like that, kid.¡±


    Wren¡¯s head bobbed rapidly. ¡°It¡¯s safe, Uncle Fred, I promise. I mean, as safe as I can make it. I mean¡­¡± She trailed off, biting her lip before visibly shaking off her insecurity. ¡°It¡¯s okay. We can do this.¡± Her gaze moved to me, and she gave a little nod of encouragement.


    So, making sure the system was still active, I picked up the phone connected to that ancient looking computer and found the number Pittman had called from. It had come in as unknown, but Wren had done something that had to do with checking call logs, or some such thing, and managed to get the actual number itself. We were hoping it still worked.


    Just before I hit the button, Paige half-swatted me upside the shoulder and gestured to my ear. ¡°Voice,¡± she pointed out.


    Right, just in case he answered, I couldn¡¯t sound like myself. Hitting the bit on my phone to turn the voice changer on my earbud back on before adjusting it to the same random male voice I¡¯d used before, I gave her a thumbs up. And with that, I called Pittman while everyone, even Fred, stared in complete silence. They were all watching my face, waiting to see what would happen. I would¡¯ve switched it to speaker, but we were still a bit afraid of any special voice commands the man might end up having. So, I was just going to relay anything he said.


    As it turned out, it was a good thing that Sierra said we should use the tracker just in case, and that Paige had made me turn on my voice changer. There was a click, then another click, then a beep, and finally I heard what sounded like the ocean before a familiar man¡¯s voice spoke, ¡°I¡¯m a little shocked you actually managed to track down this number, even with my daughter¡¯s aid.¡±


    My expression, combined with faint sounds from the man speaking, must¡¯ve been obvious, because the others immediately reacted. Sierra¡¯s mouth opened as a flash of rage came across her face, but Paige was faster, slapping a hand over it before she could say anything. I saw Fred and Wren react with surprise too, but I forced myself to sound as casual as possible. ¡°I¡¯m full of all sorts of surprises. And so are you, it seems like. I didn¡¯t expect you to have phone privileges right now. Thought I¡¯d have to leave a message.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you called within one of the satellite windows,¡± he informed me flatly. ¡°Now, is my daughter there? Are you all finished having your childish tantrums and prepared to make a deal for Irelyn and the other one?¡±


    I was barely listening to him. My attention was on the screen. The tracking system was clearly having trouble. It was moving around the Pacific ocean at the moment, which didn¡¯t exactly narrow it down. Wren, for her part, looked a bit anxious but not upset. She waved a hand for me to keep talking.


    So, I made a noise deep in my throat. ¡°Are you still trying to play that game? As if we don¡¯t know that you don¡¯t actually have them?¡± I knew being so dismissive and arrogant right back to him would piss the man off. But I was hoping it would make him want to rant at me rather than hang up. It was a tough line to balance. Quickly, I pushed on before he could think about it too much. ¡°Let¡¯s not lie to each other. You want to get off that island and we want to get them off that island. You had a way to do it when you were going to get Paige over there, so why is that impossible now?¡±


    It was a stupid question, of course. Paige wasn¡¯t there, and I was pretty sure his plan heavily involved using her. But it being a stupid question was the point. I hoped it would prompt him to spout off at me a little bit, which would give the tracker more time to do its thing.


    To my relief, the man took the bait. He gave a long, heavy sigh before snidely retorting, ¡°She¡¯s not here, is she? But, if you truly wish to do something that will get all of us what we want, you should listen very carefully. I don¡¯t know who you are, or why my daughter brought you into this, but I assume you are not entirely incompetent. To that end, you will need to collect a few things if we are going to safely transport off of this island. Do that, pick up what I need, and I will ensure both Star-Touched know where to meet so that we can all leave the island together.¡± He gave a tired sigh then, and I could imagine him waving his hand dismissively. ¡°With, of course, proof of life before you transport all of us.¡±


    For some strange reason, I didn¡¯t really believe that he intended to let them get off the island safely. Call me crazy. But, a glance toward the monitor showed that the cursor was starting to narrow in on something. It was still covering far too much territory in the ocean to be usable, but at least it was working. So, I waited for just a moment to make the man think I was considering it before replying, ¡°No promises, but what exactly do you need me to get?¡±


    The man began to give me a list of equipment I was going to need to go find if I followed his little plan, whatever it ended up being. Honestly, I really did write it down. If nothing else, it would help us understand what he intended to do, and that was always a good thing. But I was also keeping an eye on that monitor while Wren¡¯s machine did its best to narrow down the location. It was taking a long time (or maybe it just felt like it given the stakes), but it was definitely getting closer and closer. The girl herself looked even more anxious, as did Paige and Sierra. Even Fred, still sitting over by the counter, had completely abandoned all pretense of doing paperwork and was staring at the monitor along with the rest of us.


    It looked like the thing had gotten to within five hundred miles. Which wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was definitely a lot better than we had before. It was dancing around erratically, still trying to hone in on the exact spot. All I could do was keep him talking for as long as possible. And to that end, I did my best to ask clarifying questions that he would expect to hear without getting suspicious about me dragging the call out. Playing on his need to lecture me about how much smarter he was and all that seemed to do the trick. This was not a man who was averse to gloating, or demeaning others. Especially since I¡¯d been so rude to him before.


    After getting through what was apparently the normal part of the list, the man paused before speaking very intently. "Once you have those items, you need to go to this address in Tooele, Utah. That¡¯s T-O-O-E-L-E. There is a house there¨C¡±


    ¡°Whoa, whoa,¡± I found myself interrupting reflexively. ¡°What¡¯s this about going to Utah? Did you recruit the Mormons into helping you escape from death-prison island? I knew you were a piece of work, but I thought you had standards.¡±


    I swore I could hear the man growling a little under his breath before he pushed on, ignoring my comment entirely. ¡°You need to go to that address and find the equipment in the basement. Take my daughter there. She will know what to do with it, especially if you have the other pieces I just told you to pick up. Fix the machine properly, call if you are both too incompetent to manage that much and I will talk you through it. When it¡¯s done, we will talk about how to ensure we all get what we want.¡±


    My mouth opened to try to say something else to keep him on the line, but he had already disconnected. Quickly, I snapped my gaze back over to the monitor while blurting, ¡°Did we get it? Please tell me we got it, because I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll accept another call any time soon. He is not a patient man.¡±


    Even as I was saying that, I could see the cursor. It was blinking steadily on one specific spot, with latitude and longitude coordinates displayed next to it.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Paige flatly replied, her gaze laser-focused on that spot. ¡°We¡¯ve got him. He can play all the games he wants now. It doesn¡¯t matter.


    ¡°We know exactly where that son of a bitch is.¡±

 Schooling 24-11

    There were plenty of other things we needed to do now that we had the location of the prison island. Most importantly, we needed to get pictures of a broken boat on water that we could pretend was the ocean. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have time to help with much of that before I had to go to dinner. Which, of course, gave me yet another reason to curse the fact that I couldn¡¯t find a way out of that. Famous skater who had been a personal hero of mine since I could barely walk or not, I really wanted to help with this. And, of course, I really didn¡¯t want to go over to Arleigh¡¯s house. Which, to be fair, I couldn¡¯t honestly say which of those made me want to do this less.


    Either way, while I was busy with my dinner thing, the others would be going with Paige over to check out her boat and try to find a spot where they could safely wreck it and take pictures. I felt bad about not being involved in that part, because it also sounded fun. But then again, considering the fact that the situation was literally life or death, I wasn¡¯t going to ask them to wait for me. The sort of person who would have been selfish enough for that was¡­ well, to be honest, I was pretty sure I was going to the house of a girl exactly that selfish.


    Was there really no way I could grab Ryder and Inessa and run away with them somewhere better?


    I was honestly still considering that pipe-dream solution when Jefferson dropped me off in front of the house. I would¡¯ve taken an Uber, but most of them refused to come in this housing development thanks to the whole Sherwood thing. Which I obviously couldn¡¯t blame them for. Sherwood was, of course, another reason I really didn¡¯t want to come here tonight. Even if they apparently had strict orders to stay away from me, I wanted to avoid as much gang attention as I could. I really, super-duper did not want to let people who were adept at spying get too much practice watching how I moved, stood, talked, anything that could make them connect me to Paintball.


    Then again, if my own parents hadn¡¯t figured it out yet, I must¡¯ve been doing something right.


    Thanking Jefferson for the ride and promising that I would be waiting for him to pick me up in a few hours, I turned and looked at the house. I supposed it was pretty large for what it was. Four stories tall, it was definitely the biggest house in the whole neighborhood. There was a large tree taking up a decent portion of one side of the front lawn, and I had to force myself not to stare at it. Something told me that if the Sherwood people really did spy through plants, that tree would be the one they would be using right now to keep an eye on the intruder. Did whoever was looking at me through it know who I was already? Surely they did. I had no doubt that my parents had let Sequoia and Hemlock, the leaders of the gang, know I was coming tonight so they could tell their people to leave me alone.


    Actually, the Sequoia leader thing was weird. As far as I knew, almost no one had ever actually seen him. He made his presence known by infusing various plants with effects that gave people powers, or caused explosions, or poisoned them, or whatever. But for everyone aside from the top leadership of the gang, he was a total mystery. The rank and file members never saw him, not even in a costume. The day-to-day leadership was accomplished by Hemlock, a hydrokinetic who, while not as strong as Izzy, could transform water into poisons and venoms and such. Some people thought Hemlock was the leader and had just made up Sequoia, but that didn¡¯t explain the power-imbued plants. Or why he would do that rather than accept the credit himself.


    Whatever, the main point was, I just had to go inside and get through this dinner. Shoving all other thoughts out of my head, I took a breath before starting to walk up the front path toward the entrance.


    Before I could get even halfway there, The door flew open and Arleigh came charging out with her arms raised. ¡°Cassidy! There you are!¡± I barely had time to look up before she was suddenly embracing me. Yeah, without so much as another word, she was grabbing onto me and holding me tightly, like we were best friends. It took me completely by surprise, so I couldn¡¯t even muster a protest or any comment at all before it was over. She stepped back, beaming that entirely insincere, yet somehow practically blinding, smile. ¡°Dad is gonna be so happy when he finds out you came.¡±


    Weirdly, in that moment, I thought of something. She said her dad was going to be happy about me coming, but nothing about her mother. Which made sense, because Arleigh¡¯s mother had died like¡­ thirteen or something years ago. It was a long time. So of course she wouldn¡¯t have mentioned her mother. And yet, when she first invited me over here for this whole thing, she had said that her parents, plural, would love to have me.


    Arleigh was only a year or two older than me. She was still seventeen, I was pretty sure. She had to have been a toddler at best when her mother died. So why would she have made a mistake like that? Why would she have said parents? I knew her dad had never remarried or anything. He¡¯d adopted Errol, her younger brother, but as far as I knew, Arleigh had grown up in the house with only one parent.


    So why had she used the plural? Was it just a slip of the tongue? Was this whole double-life making me paranoid? Well, yes to that last one, but did me being paranoid mean I was wrong to zero in on that detail in particular?


    Honestly, I had no idea. But I didn¡¯t have time to think about it any longer. Arleigh was standing there watching me expectantly, and I couldn¡¯t exactly just flat-out ask her what she¡¯d meant. Well, I could, but the Sherwood people were probably still watching, and I didn¡¯t want to look like someone who paid more attention than I should to minor details. I didn¡¯t want them to have any reason to think there was more to me than what appeared on the surface. And I definitely didn¡¯t want them to tell my parents that I seemed to be a little snoopy. No, for the rest of this whole dinner thing, I really had to project myself as clueless, innocent Cassidy.


    So, I offered a faint smile, as sincere of one as I could manage. ¡°Hey, Arleigh. I¡¯m not late, am I?¡± Of course I wasn¡¯t. Jefferson had dropped me off exactly on time, like he always did.


    ¡°Oh, no, no, course not.¡± Arleigh rolled her eyes at the very idea, gesturing for me to accompany her as she turned back to head up the steps. ¡°You are absolutely right on time, Cass. It¡¯s my dad who¡¯s late. But we¡¯ll just have to entertain ourselves with our other guests until he shows up.¡±


    It was those other guests I was thinking about as I followed the other girl through the door. And I didn¡¯t have to look far for them. Ryder was standing right there in the front hall, facing a girl who was only a couple inches taller than me, with short electric blue hair, artfully-torn jeans, and a yellow tee over a gray, very light long-sleeved shirt. The girl had her back to me, but that didn¡¯t matter. I knew who she was immediately, and stopped short to gasp.


    Sure enough, she turned to face me, and I found myself looking at Inessa Sidorov. Twenty-five years old now, she had been a teenager when she first got involved with the international skating scene. Originally from Ukraine, she made a bunch of Youtube videos where she did tricks and stunts throughout the city and surrounding smaller villages. She was completely fearless and did a lot of crazy things anyone else would¡¯ve said was too dangerous. And she did it all while laughing gleefully. That was one of the things her videos were known for, her cackling while doing something ridiculously cool and stupid.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Really, was it any wonder she was my idol?


    All of that flashed through my mind, along with a reminder that lunging to hug her would¡¯ve been just as rude and terrible as when Arleigh had done that to me. So, I forced myself to stop short and simply managed, ¡°Y-you¡¯re Inessa Sidorov.¡± I¡¯d thought I was ready to meet her, but there was a difference between planning for something and the reality of being there. I felt a little giddy. Was it weird that I felt giddy? I definitely no longer cared about what house I was at.


    Flashing a quick grin that was instantly more believable than any I¡¯d ever seen from Arleigh, Inessa replied, with a clear Eastern European accent, ¡°And you are the other guest tonight. I have been looking forward to meeting you, Cassidy Evans.¡±


    Oh God, she knew my name. She knew my name! Resisting the urge to bounce up and down as my inner fangirl desperately tried to club my common sense over the head and take over, I forced myself to respond as casually as possible. ¡°Oh yeah, you probably know my parents, huh? I heard they¡¯ve been helping with some sponsorship stuff.¡± Largely because of my practically screaming her name into my dad¡¯s ear for years, but still.


    ¡°What?¡± Her face was blank, before she shook that off. ¡°No. I mean perhaps. I don¡¯t really know who the sponsors are. Lavra takes care of that. What I mean is this.¡± She dug into the pocket of those jeans before coming out with a piece of lined paper that had been folded over several times. Still smiling, she offered it to me.


    Confused, I took the paper and unfolded it, only to find that it was actually several pages. Once I got them all sorted, I took a look. And then I nearly died on the spot. Staring me right in the face, written in blue magic marker, were the scribblings of a probably seven-year-old Cassidy going on and on about how cool I thought Inessa was, how much I liked watching her Youtube videos, that I¡¯d convinced my dad to get me my own skateboard, and so on. I talked about specific tricks she did in her videos, rambled a bit (or a lot) about how much I liked seeing the old yellow cat who sometimes appeared in the background, or how pretty her city was. And because I was, again, about seven at the time, all these thoughts came out jumbled amongst themselves and others. It was a mess. An enthusiastic mess, sure, but a mess. ¡°Y-you¡­ I¨Cum.¡± What was I supposed to say? ¡°You still have this?¡±


    With a laugh, the woman replied, ¡°Are you kidding? It was the first piece of physical fanmail I ever got from the States. I have it framed in my trailer most of the time, but when I found out I was coming to the same Detroit that the letter came from, I had to bring it with me. I was hoping we¡¯d get a chance to meet. Having dinner, that is just a bonus.¡±


    Arleigh, who had been standing behind me, leaned over to see part of the letter. ¡°Wow, you wrote to her when you were a kid? That¡¯s awesome. I probably would¡¯ve just sent an email or something. Or got my father to find her cell number.¡± She paused then before looking at me. ¡°Err, couldn¡¯t you have just done that?¡±


    Before I could respond to her, Ryder stepped in from where he had been hanging back. ¡°Eh, you know what they say, sometimes a physical message means more than tapping a few keys. I mean, she could¡¯ve sent a text too, and just said ¡®I Heart U,¡¯ then been done with it in four taps. Five counting sending it. But that? That¡¯s a physical letter. She took the time to write all that. It just¨Cyou know, it means something.¡±


    Inessa grinned and flashed a thumbs up that way. ¡°Yes, exactly. I got emails and comments on my videos, but this was a letter all the way from the United States. And it wasn¡¯t just any letter. It was from a little girl. It meant a lot to me.¡± Her gaze found mine and I felt my face turn pink. ¡°It was very encouraging, Cassidy Evans. In times when I thought this was too hard and I should stop, I looked to many influences to assure myself that I belong in this life. Your letter was one of them. It helped get me to where I am today, in many ways. So, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Duuude, I did not expect that,¡± Arleigh announced with a low whistle. ¡°I just thought you¡¯d get, like, an autograph or something.¡±


    She might have said something else after that, I definitely wasn¡¯t listening. I was too busy staring at the woman who had been my skating hero for so long. It was all I could do not to show a lot more emotion than I already was. ¡°P-please, it¡¯s Cassidy,¡± I managed. ¡°Just Cassidy. And whatever made you stay in skating, I¡¯m really glad you did.¡± She was staring at me, so I had to look down as my blush deepened. My gaze found the letter in my hand as I murmured, ¡°You¡¯re the best skater I¡¯ve ever¡­ uh¡­¡± I trailed off as my eyes spotted something in particular in the letter. It was just a single sentence, and very little made it stand out from the rest. Except for one thing. The sentence read, ¡®Anthony (my bff) said you couldn¡¯t make that roof jump with the ramp but I said you could and you did so he had to let me pick the movie for our sleepover and I picked Cool Runnings cuz I heard it was your favorite movie if it isn¡¯t please let me know so I can make him watch a different one and have you ever tried bobsledding oh did you try speed skating they go really fast but I mean the one on ice do you think they have a regular wheelie speed skate and my dad says I can¡¯t try the roof jump but I think I can make it did you ever go sledding?¡¯


    Yeah, okay, I said it was a single sentence. I didn¡¯t say it should have been a single sentence. I was seven, give me a break.


    But obviously, that wasn¡¯t the actual point. The point was the mention of Anthony. This was real, tangible evidence of Anthony¡¯s existence and my knowledge of him. It had escaped my parents¡¯ attempts to rewrite history. If I hadn¡¯t already known about him, this obviously would¡¯ve hit me really hard. Or maybe it would¡¯ve just confused me. I wasn¡¯t sure. As it was, I found myself staring at that name.


    Apparently there was something in my expression, because Ryder spoke up. ¡°You okay?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. It¡¯s just¡­ crazy, seeing something you wrote when you were a little kid.¡± Waving the letter, I looked toward Inessa and asked, ¡°Do you mind if I take pictures of this so I have them? I¡¯d sorta like to show my friends.¡±


    She considered that for a moment before gesturing. ¡°You know what? You keep it. I have had it for these years and it brought me luck. But perhaps it is time it brings you luck instead. There is no one I would rather give the letter to than the girl who sent it to me.¡± After a brief pause, she added, ¡°And for the record, you were right. My favorite movie is Cool Runnings. ¡®Feel the rhythm, feel the rhyme, get on up, it¡¯s bobsled time!¡¯¡± By the time she was halfway through it, I was saying the quote with her, and when it was done, we both laughed and high-fived.


    Oh God, I high-fived Inessa Sidorov. Would I ever wash my hand again? Wait, could I get some sort of special skintight clear glove so I wouldn¡¯t have to? Could my parents¨C


    Forcing that thought out of my mind, I swallowed hard, still blushing. ¡°Thanks. It¡¯s really cool that you kept this letter for so long. I¨CI can barely remember sending it, but you¡¯re still my favorite skater in the whole world. You¡¯re like¡­ the best.¡± I was grinning goofily by that point, but I didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°Damn straight I am,¡± Inessa replied with clear confidence. ¡°And do you know what else I am? Her eyes moved to Arleigh while she added, ¡°Extremely hungry. Do we know when your father will be arriving yet? I do not wish to be rude, of course. But it was a very long plane ride, and they had no meals because of some malfunction in the cooler.¡±


    At that moment, Arleigh looked up from her phone with a curse. ¡°Fuck. Okay so Dad¡¯s running late. He said there¡¯s some frozen pizzas in the freezer that we can just heat up. But uhh, the cook already went home, so do any of you guys know how to work the oven?¡±


    The three of us around her exchanged glances, before Ryder gestured. ¡°I think we can work it out. But what about your brothers?¡±


    ¡°Who cares where Micah is?¡± Arleigh retorted. ¡°And I think Errol¡¯s up in his room. I guess he can eat something once it¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡°Well then,¡± Inessa freaking Sidorov announced, ¡°Let us see how complicated this oven is, hmm? And hope that we can figure out how to turn it on before I¡¯m forced to simply eat the whole frozen thing as it is.


    ¡°I fear that even my number one fan could not see me the same after that.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 12 - Amber and Dani/That-A-Way and Pack

    Standing at her locker at the end of a long day of school, Amber O¡¯Connell stared down at her phone, but she wasn¡¯t really paying attention to it. Her actual focus lay on listening to what several students just down the hall were saying. One, a boy named Ricardo Esteban, had been going on for the past few minutes about some party that he and his parents were going to the next evening. A costume party, with a Touched theme. You didn¡¯t have to show up as any specific Touched, though that would probably get you more points in the contest. Ricardo was bragging about the Hefesto (a Spanish Tech-Touched hero) costume his parents had gotten personally commissioned for him, and how it was going to blow everyone else¡¯s out of the water.


    Amber, naturally, didn¡¯t care about any costume contest. She was, however, laser-focused on something else the boy had said in the course of bragging to his audience. Well, two things, actually. First, there were no phones allowed on the floor. You had to check them with your coats. Something about the hosts not wanting people to be distracted. And second, a man named Derek Meyers was going to be attending the party. Ricardo had name-dropped him as one of his parents¡¯ personal guests for the evening. Of course, the whole ¡®name-dropping¡¯ thing had only worked once he explained to his friends exactly who Derek Meyers was. And even then they hadn¡¯t cared all that much. After all, why would they find it so fascinating that some random detective on the Detroit police force was a friend of Ricardo¡¯s parents? Even hearing about the litany of impressive arrests the man had made didn¡¯t really sway them that much. Sure, it was kind of cool and all, but they wanted to hear more about the costume.


    In most cases, Amber would¡¯ve been in about the same boat. Why would she care if one detective or another wanted to go to a party? Yet this one mattered. This specific name was one she had read about for over a year now, and had been intently researching ever since she had found out about the existence of the Ministry. He was connected to them, she just knew it. Obviously, the Ministry had police in their pockets, and Amber was convinced that Detective Derek Meyers was one such asset.


    He had been the lead investigator on her father¡¯s case, the man responsible for determining what had actually happened to her dad. And, as far as Amber could determine, all the evidence had gone through him. If there was a cover-up, if the Ministry had given her father¡¯s killer a free pass, it almost certainly had to have come from Derek Meyers. He had hidden one piece of evidence or another, had intentionally ignored something important, had done something to make sure the investigation didn¡¯t find the actual culprit. She knew he had to have done something. A random person just stealing a car, hitting her father, and getting away without leaving any fingerprints or hair or anything they could use to find him? Especially these days? It didn¡¯t make any sense. There had to have been something, which meant someone had hidden it. Meyers was her biggest suspect, since he¡¯d had the most control over the investigation.


    And now he was going to be at that party, distracted by all those people, with his phone stowed away in a back room. She would never get a better chance than this to look at his contacts, his messages, all of it. Even if he didn¡¯t actually keep records of what he had done on her father¡¯s case on it (and she would¡¯ve been very surprised if he did), she could find something connecting him to the Ministry. And from there, she could¡­ well, she didn¡¯t know, exactly. Find a way to make him tell the truth without giving away who she was? That part was shaky, at best.


    But the fact was, she couldn¡¯t just give up on it. She¡¯d figure out the details later. For now, she just had to get that information. She had to get proof that he worked for the Ministry, then she¡¯d work her way through an actual plan of what to do with that. She¡¯d take his phone, get the battery out of it, then take it over to ask that Wren girl to help her get into it. Or maybe someone else. The point was, getting the phone was the important part.


    ¡°We should go to that thing.¡±


    The voice made Amber jump a bit. She¡¯d been so intently focused on thinking her way through this rather haphazard plan (it was more of a goal), that she hadn¡¯t noticed Dani come up behind her. Turning that way, she blinked a couple times. ¡°What?¡±


    Arching an eyebrow, the black girl nodded past her toward the group nearby. ¡°That party thing he¡¯s talking about. We should go to it. I mean, why not? My aunt says I¡¯m supposed to ¡®spend time with the class of people I¡¯ve been brought into,¡¯ whatever that means. Me going to this party will score major brownie points. And if I¡¯m going with you, it won¡¯t even be that bad.¡±


    Amber felt a slight flush cross her neck and cheeks, but most of her attention was on the idea itself. Of course she wanted to go to this party, that was her entire plan. Well, that and getting into that back room. She¡¯d had no idea of exactly how to invite herself into that group to go, and knew that attending by herself would probably stand out. Sure, it wouldn¡¯t be hard to get an invitation, but just showing up alone would have made people wonder about her. It would have made people notice her, and she didn¡¯t want that. But this? Dani had just come up out of nowhere and offered her the perfect cover and excuse. Amber practically could have kissed her.


    Okay, now she really was blushing. Clearing her throat, the girl offered a shrug while managing to keep her voice as casual as possible. ¡°You asking me out on a date or something?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t start planning the wedding already, O¡¯Connell,¡± Dani teased. ¡°I just thought it¡¯d be fun. If you don¡¯t wanna do it, I¡¯ll see if that Melody girl has anything going on.¡±


    Shaking her head while doing her best to not sound too eager about the whole situation, Amber replied, ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll go. Sounds like it could be fun, I guess. It¡¯s better than going by myself, that¡¯s for sure.¡± She took a moment to glance at the other girl, judging her reaction before adding, ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t have anything else going on? I mean, a girl like you has to have a pretty full schedule.¡±


    Dani, in turn, smirked just a little. ¡°I think I can clear my calendar for it.¡± She grimaced then, as though something had just occurred to her. ¡°They¡¯re gonna want us to dress up, aren¡¯t they? You going in costume?¡±


    Oh boy, did that question have implications that Dani couldn¡¯t possibly have known. Resisting the urge to cough at that, Amber tilted her head as though considering it. ¡°I mean, I guess I could throw something together. Maybe I can find something simple at the mall.¡± No way in hell would she go as her actual Touched identity, of course. While very vaguely tempting in a dangerous sort of way, it was an incredibly bad idea. Even if she went with her own hair color and everything rather than turning it blonde, she would still look far too close to the real thing. Thanks to, well, literally being the real thing. She needed to keep as much distance between Amber O¡¯Connell and That-A-Way as she could. Letting anyone¡¯s thoughts drift toward connecting the two was a recipe for disaster. Though, granted, this whole idea was also a disaster recipe, she could at least do her best not to make it even worse. She would find a costume that was both simple and very different from her real secret identity.


    With that in mind, the two of them talked for another couple of minutes about what they were going to do, before promising to text each other more plans for the next evening. They agreed to keep their costumes a secret so the other person could be surprised when they met up for the party. Then they separated, with Amber walking away from her locker while smiling to herself about how she had ended up with the perfect cover to hide her true intentions for being at that party.


    She had no idea that, as Dani watched her go, the other girl was thinking the exact same thing.


    *******


    ¡°I thought you were into that Minority chick.¡± Several hours later, KD made that comment while she and Dani were looking through an assortment of costumes in an old shop. Outside of her Touched identity as Broadway, KD was a pale girl with bright blue hair tied into pigtails. She stood barely five feet tall, another thing separating her from her costumed self, given the Broadway suit boosted her height a fair bit. With all that in mind, it was doubtful that anyone would ever connect her to the La Casa Touched.


    The two girls were keeping their voices low, though it didn¡¯t really matter considering the elderly lady who ran the place was engrossed in watching television at the front counter. ¡°You know, the one you keep flirting with.¡±


    Dani, flipping through several possible outfits hanging on the rack, replied easily. ¡°Sure, she¡¯s great. But I can¡¯t exactly ask her to go with me like this, can I? And I definitely can¡¯t ask her to go with me as Pack. I think she might have a few questions about what I¡¯m actually doing there, and she might get all goody two-shoes about it.


    KD scoffed under her breath. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s not like you¡¯re going there just to steal things. You have legitimate business in that place.¡± She lowered her voice even more, pointedly adding, ¡°Jennica business.¡±


    Giving up on finding what she wanted on that particular rack, Dani nodded at her friend. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m not sure Way would see the good side of stealing your sister¡¯s social worker¡¯s keys so we can get into her office and find Jennica¡¯s file to figure out if there¡¯s anything in there about where she might hide. That¡¯s a lot of stealing and breaking and entering for someone on the Minority.¡± She paused a little before adding a bit more quietly, ¡°And I¡¯m not sure I want to get her involved in that.¡±


    KD put a hand on her arm. ¡°You¡¯re worried about Jennica hurting her, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    With a sigh, Dani moved to the next rack to check through the clothes there. ¡°She¡¯s already got enough to deal with. I don¡¯t want to throw her into Jennica¡¯s sights. I know she¡¯s trained and all that, just¨C¡± She hesitated before giving a soft sigh. ¡°If she did get involved in this whole thing and then got hurt, I¡¯d feel like shit. I already feel like shit because Jennica¡¯s your sister and you¨Cfuck. You know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± KD murmured. ¡°It¡¯s pretty screwed up. I guess I can¡¯t blame you for not wanting to get her involved.¡± She looked that way, adding, ¡°But you¡¯re okay getting this other girl involved?¡±


    Dropping the suit she had been examining back onto the hook, Dani looked at her intently. ¡°She¡¯s not going to be involved. The two of us are gonna go and hang out a little bit there, then I¡¯ll disappear for awhile to get what we need before finding her again. She¡¯ll never know anything was going on. It¡¯s just gonna be a nice, normal, ordinary date. Nothing weird.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow at the declaration, KD shrugged. ¡°Sure, babe. If you say so. I¡¯ve just got one question. She was at the top of your list to take with you to this thing, so you obviously like this girl too. But which one do you like more, the one who knows you as Pack, or the one who knows you as Dani?¡±


    The question was met with silence, as Dani frowned. Who did she like more? It was an impossible thing to answer. That-A-Way knew one side of her, but Amber knew another side. She knew Way liked her, in plenty of ways, even if she didn¡¯t approve of all the things Pack did. But then, Amber had no idea she was a criminal. She knew Dani the girl from school, not Pack. Amber or That-A-Way, That-A-Way or Amber? One girl knew her costumed self, one knew her civilian self.


    ¡°You know,¡± she finally muttered, ¡°It¡¯s too bad I can¡¯t find a way to squish them together.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that would be my perfect girl.¡±


    *******


    It was five o¡¯clock the next evening when Amber and Dani met just in front of the school. That wasn¡¯t where the party was being held, but it was an easy place for the two of them to join up before heading that way. The two of them looked each other up and down for a moment, taking in their costumes.


    Dani, for her part, had settled on wearing what amounted to Caishen¡¯s costume. Black boots with dark gold pants that had black lines running up them, along with a dark purple scalemail-like shirt, and a gold leather coat. The real Caishen had a hard metal black helmet with glowing purple lenses over the eyes, though Dani¡¯s was clearly plastic. Decent plastic, but still. The costume looked expensive, if not incredibly so. There was even a bluetooth device built into the helmet for phone calls.


    Amber, meanwhile, wore dark green pants with what looked somewhat like fish scales running down them, with a gold-scaled long sleeve shirt and a simple pair of goggles. It was a cheap version of a costume belonging to Freedive, a water-based Star-Touched from California. Her costume came complete with tall metal-looking boots that were close approximations of the real thing. Not that she had really cared all that much about being accurate, but there was another reason she¡¯d wanted to have the boots.


    Giving a low whistle, Dani added a thumbs up. ¡°Boy, am I glad I didn¡¯t go with that Melody girl.¡±


    Feeling her blush deepen, Amber waved that off. ¡°Yeah, yeah, you look great too. So, are we heading over there, or would you rather just stand here and stare at each other a little longer?¡± Even as the words left her she was regretting saying them. She¡¯d meant it to sound teasing, but now that she¡¯d actually gotten it out¡­


    From the way Dani leaned back on her heels, it was obvious she was trying to decide exactly how to react. There was amusement in her voice as she looked the other girl up and down briefly. ¡°Well, to tell you the truth, I¡¯d be just fine with another couple hours of this. But, I suppose we should probably head over there. Don¡¯t wanna make the poor people at the party miss out on all of this.¡± She waved her hand down herself and then over toward Amber. ¡°That¡¯d be a real crime.¡± With that, she turned to gesture toward the car she had driven up in, given her date had been dropped off by an Uber. ¡°Your carriage for the evening, milady?¡±


    Smiling just a little, Amber gave a little bow before stepping that way. She still hoped she would be able to get into that back room and find the detective¡¯s phone. But even if she couldn¡¯t, this date might not be a waste after all.


    Dani, watching the other girl get in the car, had quite similar thoughts. She closed the passenger side door, glanced to the sky while thinking about the other things she needed to do that night, then walked around the other side to get in the driver¡¯s seat.


    Whatever came next, one thing was for sure. This was going to be a date she would remember for a long time.


    *****


    The party itself was actually being held at a local hotel, in one of the large banquet halls. After parking in the underground lot, the two of them made their way up the elevator before following the posted signs to the room in question. Not that they really needed signs, considering there was a small flood of other people in costumes heading that way. It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out where to go.


    There was a man standing by the entrance to the banquet room. Like all the other serving staff at his event, he wore a crisp white coat, blue pants, and a blue mask that covered most of his face. He was the person responsible for checking invitations. As expected, neither of the girls had had a hard time getting one. They presented them, waited for the man to scan the invitation with his handheld device to make sure they were real, then waved them in. On their way past, they heard the man informing people behind them that if they needed masks or other costume pieces, they would be provided for them.


    The door didn¡¯t open straight into the banquet room itself. Instead, there was a small entryway with a desk to one side where the coat and phone check woman sat. She took Amber and Dani¡¯s devices, put them in small boxes with their names, then took them into the room behind her before giving them a couple receipts. Both girls watched that intently, neither noticing the attention of the other.


    In any case, once they had their receipts for their stowed phones, the two headed through the next door into the actual banquet hall. This was where the party was, where they would be spending most of their time for the next few hours.


    And boy was it an impressive room in that regard. Or rather, three rooms. The banquet hall, such as it was called, was three enormous chambers linked together through several doorways at either end. The room they entered first was the central chamber, shaped like a half-circle with the door they had just come through at the center of the flat line, while the curved side opposite them was taken up with a stage where a live band was playing. Most of the rest of the room consisted of a dance floor for couples, along with tables to sit and rest to either side. There was a series of enormous floor-to-ceiling curtains against the walls, either to muffle how much sound reached beyond the room, or for some decorative purpose. Perhaps both. A full-service bar waited to the right, while the tables of punch and other nonalcoholic drinks were to the left.


    The door on that left side led into a quieter room where people could sit at an assortment of circular tables to have real food and listen to the music being piped in from this room, while the door on the opposite side led to a room with card tables, billiards, and more. Only adults were allowed to gamble at these things, of course. But Amber and Dani could wander through and watch if they wanted to.


    ¡°What a place, huh?¡± Amber finally remarked, after the two of them had taken all that in for a few long seconds.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s definitely a place,¡± Dani agreed, before grabbing the other girl¡¯s hand. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s show these rich old fogeys how to really dance.¡±


    She had a job to do, of course. But that would come later, once things had settled in, and everyone who was going to attend the party was here. Then the coat and phone-check girl would sit down and relax, giving Dani a chance to get in there and find what she was actually there for.


    But at the moment, this was a perfectly fine way to spend the next hour or so.


    It felt a little surreal for Amber to be dancing out on a floor full of people dressed up in costumes of other Touched, including several examples of her teammates and mentors. To say nothing of how it felt when she saw a couple people who were dressed up like her. Well, her Touched identity anyway. Seeing someone who looked just like That-A-Way was¡­ weird. It was like going through one of those weird movie plots where the person meets themselves in order to have some grand realization or something. Only in this case, the other versions of herself had no idea she even existed. Which was, in some ways, even more weird.


    On the other hand, she didn¡¯t have much time to think about that. Not with her particular dance partner. Dani was very intense, and clearly didn¡¯t care about attracting attention. It was fun, but it was also exhausting. Amber was very glad for her years of cheerleading practice, followed by over a year of work with the Minority. The two of them danced together, ignoring everyone around them save for the slightest effort to avoid running into anyone. But for the most part, Amber and Dani¡¯s full awareness was focused on one another, and how they were moving. The music in the air, the excitement, the rush of motion, of being the center of one another¡¯s attention, it¡­ it was a lot. But it was also good. It was fun. It was¡­ nice.


    She did, however, pay attention to the doors where everyone was coming in. So, she noticed when Detective Derek Meyers made his way in. The man wasn¡¯t hard to spot, even in costume. He was tall and somewhat heavyset, with long red hair that was currently tied back in a ponytail. He wore a simple costume of a black suit with a green coat and a domino mask. Amber wasn¡¯t sure who he was dressed up as, or if it actually was anyone in particular. But either way, he was here. Which meant his phone was here.


    Dani, meanwhile, already knew her own target was here. She¡¯d actually passed the woman in question on her way in. The social worker whose keys she needed to borrow was working the front phone-coat check alongside a couple other people. Dani had handed the woman her phone (well, one of them anyway) and even told her to have a nice evening.


    Finally, in a break between songs, the two of them make their way off the dance floor. There were a few scattered bits of applause from people nearby who had apparently been taken in by the display. But for the most part, the space filled up again quickly, as the others went back to dancing. Dani and Amber stepped over by the refreshments table, each taking a glass of punch while looking around at the people surrounding them.


    ¡°Boy,¡± Dani remarked, ¡°you rich people sure know how to party.¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Amber retorted, ¡°You know, from everything you¡¯ve said about your great-aunt, I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re richer than I am.¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± Dani pointed out, ¡°my aunt. I¡¯m just sort of taking advantage of her assets or whatever. Not like it¡¯s my money.¡±


    Gesturing at that, Amber replied, ¡°I mean, then you¡¯re basically the same as ninety-nine percent of the ¡®rich¡¯ kids at that school. They¡¯re all there on their family¡¯s money too.¡±


    Mouth opening behind her plastic helmet, Dani paused to consider before giving a nod of acceptance. ¡°You know, that¡¯s fair. But that doesn¡¯t stop a lot of them from acting like they personally made that money with their own sweat and blood. Not that most of them would have any idea what it¡¯s like to sweat.¡±


    Snorting to spite herself, Amber glanced around the room to take in all the costumes once more before speaking up. ¡°You know, I think I need to visit the little rich girl¡¯s room. Would you mind seeing what they have on the menu tonight? I bet it¡¯s something decent.¡±


    Dani, who had been trying to think of how she was going to separate herself from the other girl to do what she needed to do, tried not to sound relieved. ¡°Oh, yeah, I guess I could do that. If you don¡¯t need company.¡±


    ¡°I think I can manage,¡± Amber replied dryly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll find you. Your costume stands out.¡±


    ¡°So does yours, babe,¡± Dani shot back while pointedly looking her up and down. ¡°But then, you don¡¯t need a costume to stand out.¡±


    Amber quickly turned away to hide her blush while making her way through the crowd. She still really wanted to get into that coatroom to find the phone so she could figure out exactly how much that detective guy knew, but she actually was having a good time so far. A small part of the girl wondered if she should just put that plan out of her mind and focus on having a good time with her date. But even as that thought came to mind, she saw her father¡¯s face and felt a wave of guilt wash over her for even entertaining it. His murder still wasn¡¯t solved, the person responsible for his death was running around free. There was no way she could let that go. No, it didn¡¯t matter how much fun she was having with Dani. She had to get in there and find out if Derek Meyers knew anything he wasn¡¯t putting in the official report.


    To that end, she made her way to the restroom as promised, stepping into the stall at the end of the room before locking it behind her. Crouching to make sure she was alone in this place, she carefully stepped out of the metal boots, revealing dark slippers, before positioning the boots so that anyone glancing under the stall would think someone¡¯s feet were there. It would do for the short time she planned on being away, in any case. But now she had to move quickly, before Dani started to wonder where she was.


    Pushing both of her gold-scaled sleeves upward, Amber watched as the shirt itself lost the scales and turned black. The sleeves easily pushed all the way up to the shoulders, seeming to vanish in the process so her arms were left bare. A touch of the belt buckle turned her dark green pants black as well. From there, she simply tugged the That-A-Way mask out of her pocket and exchanged the goggles for it. The mask would change her hair color, facial features, and voice. If anyone did see her snooping around, she would make an excuse about investigating something. The most important part was that she definitely didn¡¯t want to get caught using That-A-Way¡¯s powers while wearing a costume as Amber O¡¯Connell. Her plan was to not be seen at all, but better safe than sorry.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Amber had actually come into this place a few hours earlier while people were still setting up to look around and to get the lay of the rooms so she would know exactly where to go. Now, she turned to face the wall behind her. The coat room where she would find that cell phone was to the north from this spot. Which meant her teleportation was in play.


    Focusing on the far rear corner of the room in question, which she had seen while innocently looking around earlier, Amber instantly vanished from the restroom stall, and reappeared in that dark area. Rows and rows of coats and shelves full of locked phone boxes lay around her, and she could hear muffled voices from the people up front. It was late enough by this point that there weren¡¯t many people arriving to have their stuff put away, yet too early for others to start leaving. Which was the point, of course. Amber knew she had to be careful about the timing here. And, well, careful about everything else as well.


    Taking her extra phone out after peeking to make sure the door leading up front was shut, Amber turned the light on dim and began to check all the names on the cell phone lock boxes as she searched for the one she needed. Meyers, Meyers, where was the one labeled Meyers? Come on, she had to look faster.


    Unfortunately, she¡¯d barely started to look before a sound made Amber¡¯s gaze snap toward the door. The knob was turning. Fuck, someone was coming in! Quickly, she ducked back behind the furthest shelf. Hopefully, they would just toss another box or phone into the room and then leave again. She really had to get done with this and go find Dani.


    ******


    Dani, meanwhile, had also checked this place out earlier. But she had not focused on the restrooms or their relative position. Instead, she made her way into the game room, where people were sitting around playing cards or pool. The din of conversation, clinking glasses, and the clack of balls bouncing around the felt table top was incredibly familiar for the girl given she spent so much time in La Casa¡¯s base. But still, she couldn¡¯t let that lull her into a false sense of security. What she was doing here was very dangerous, and she had to get in and out quickly before anyone noticed. And, with any luck, before Amber started wondering where she had gone.


    So, walking through the dimly lit room, Dani moved to the far corner. There were more heavy, floor-to-ceiling curtains here as well, and she glanced around to make sure she wasn¡¯t being watched before slipping behind one of them. Once she was safely out of sight behind the curtain, Dani quickly stripped the gold coat off and flipped it inside out. The interior of the coat was white. When she pulled it on and zipped the thing up, it matched the jackets the staff of this place were wearing, at least close enough for casual inspection.


    From there, the girl ran her hands down her gold pants until she found the small buttons on either side of her pockets. At a touch, the pants shifted until they were blue, also matching the wait staff uniform. It hadn¡¯t been hard to get color-changing clothes in that costume shop. It was, after all, one of the best-selling Touched-Tech clothing in the city. Especially with Paintball around. The only real difficult part had been getting the woman they bought the costume from to understand that they didn¡¯t want a bunch of random colors or wild designs like most people who were trying to imitate the boy in question. They just wanted simple gold to blue.


    Once her clothes were properly changed, Dani plucked the helmet off and hid it there behind the curtain. She couldn¡¯t put that in her pocket, but it should be fine here for a few minutes. Then she took a mask from her pocket. At a touch of the button on the side, it expanded outward to match the ones the staff were wearing. Now, as she stepped out from behind the curtain, she would look (at least to most who didn¡¯t inspect her too closely), like she was just another servant there to help the party go smoothly.


    As she expected, the uniform practically made her invisible. Which wasn¡¯t as good as if Grandstand had just come in here with her own power to make people not pay attention to her, but apparently she had her own thing to deal with. Besides, there could have been various bits of electronic security that would identify an extra person who wasn¡¯t supposed to be there.


    And, of course, Dani still wasn¡¯t sure she trusted the woman. Better that she or KD do this part, and she¡¯d had an easy way in.


    Speaking of having an easy way in, the girl made her way through the crowd to the front desk in the main room. Everyone else ignored her, even the other servers. The two women in charge of the coat and phone check barely glanced her way as she walked over holding a phone up. ¡°Someone missed theirs, got another box?¡±


    Taking the time to absently pass one of the lock boxes her way, the woman in charge, who happened to be the very woman whose keys Dani needed, mumbled something about making sure she put the right name on it, then went back to the conversation she was having with her partner. Just in case, Dani carefully wrote out a name on the side, but she was pretty sure she could¡¯ve completely ignored that part and the chicks wouldn¡¯t have noticed. A moment later, she slipped past them and walked right through the door to ¡®put the box away.¡¯ Given how distracted they were, she would have all the time she needed to find where Sue Pascal, the woman right outside, had hung her coat. The coat she apparently always kept her keys inside of.


    It had taken a good bit of research to figure out exactly what sort of security they were dealing with, and how to bypass it. The agency took privacy very seriously, and the only way to enter that office (without getting a whole lot more help than they wanted to ask for), was to actually physically have the key. It wasn¡¯t just a bit of metal, it had a special piece of electronic something or other in it that would both get them through the door and prevent various alarms from going off. Alarms which would, in turn, transfer and wipe the very information they were trying to get.


    Again, they took privacy very seriously. These were the type of people who arranged adoptions for the very rich, and very private.


    But give her just a minute in here, and she would find the coat and the keys. She already had a fake one ready to exchange it for, which would give them plenty of time to get in the office, find what they needed, and get out again before Sue even noticed anything was wrong when she went in the next day.


    *******


    Even as the other girl came into the room to start looking around, Amber was silently cursing. She couldn¡¯t see the person very well in the dimly lit room, but it was obvious that she was looking for something. Did someone come back to ask for their stuff back already? Never mind, never mind. This couldn¡¯t take that long. And this was a large party. If Dani wondered where she¡¯d been, she would just tell her she¡¯d gotten lost and they must¡¯ve missed each other.


    Unfortunately, things didn¡¯t get any easier or less complicated. Just as she saw the shadowy figure start to lift up a coat that had been hung in one corner, there was another sound, this one coming from the far side of the room. It sounded like a low creak. As she, and the girl in the corner, both turned that way, one of the shelves there literally slid aside. Seeing that, Amber shoved herself even more firmly back into the corner. Weirdly, she could see the other figure duck down as well, clearly hiding.


    Well, maybe not so weirdly. If she was a staff member for this place, seeing someone come in through a hidden door would probably make her hide too. At least long enough to see what was going on.


    ********


    Dani was cursing under her breath as she hid behind one of the shelves, squinting out between a couple boxes at the sight of the male figure coming into the room. A secret door? What the hell? If she¡¯d known there was a secret door, she wouldn¡¯t have gone through all this trouble. And what was this guy doing?


    What he was doing, apparently, was talking on the phone. His voice was low. ¡°Yeah, he said they¡¯re all in position. Trust me, we are definitely gonna make an impression. Give it another hour, and this place won¡¯t be more than a memory.¡± He chuckled then. ¡°A very hot memory.¡±


    Oh, what the hell? Was this asshole planning an attack on this place or something? What did he mean by something or someone being in position? Was he with one of the other gangs? This definitely wasn¡¯t a La Casa job. It didn¡¯t fit anything like what Blackjack would do with that ¡®hot memory¡¯ comment, and she would¡¯ve heard about it.


    Sure enough, the man kept talking. ¡°All ten of them. Yeah, he said they¡¯re hidden real good. In the walls and floor.  I¡¯m just gonna finish up here, then I¡¯ll get out of this place before it goes boom.¡±


    Okay, no, Dani couldn¡¯t let this happen. She might¡¯ve been a thief, but she sure as hell wasn¡¯t just going to let this piece of shit blow up a building full of people. Even as she had that thought, the girl reached down into her pocket and started to straighten up. Her fingers found Holiday in her tiny skink form, while she focused on her power.


    *****


    Bombs?! Fucking seriously? Before the man had even finished saying those words about the place ¡®going boom,¡¯ Amber was already using her phone to text the Minority base for help. Or she tried to. The message went undelivered, and she managed to glance down at her phone, just to see that she had no service. Great, just great. Obviously, this guy was blocking calls beyond his own phone, or something. Well, all she had to do was get that phone. And, if it meant hitting him a few times, she was good with that.


    With another thought, she vanished from where she was, and reappeared behind the man, already pivoting. Facing south like this would make her intangible, which she planned to take advantage of by making him jump through her. So, she quickly began to blurt, ¡°Hey ass¡ª¡±


    But in that moment, something else showed up right in front of the man. He started to turn at her words, yet the thing that jumped out of the shadows demanded his attention much more thoroughly and immediately. it crashed into the man and both of them went straight through Amber, making her spin that way as the man yelped out loud, his phone dropping from his hand.


    In a panic about what the hell had just happened, Amber started to grab for the shadowy monster that had just tackled the man, only to stop short, hiss-blurting, ¡°Holiday?!¡±


    Sure enough, the panther-lizard pivoted, front paws still firmly holding the man down, before leaning up to purr and lick at Amber¡¯s face.


    ¡°Way?¡± That was Pack herself, coming out of the shadowy corner. That was the girl Amber had seen coming to the room. She was dressed up like one of the servants, with the same blue mask covering her face. That had to be how she got into the party. ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I¨C I had something I had to do,¡± she found herself stammering, only to catch herself. ¡°Wait, what are you doing here? You¨Cwait.¡± This wasn¡¯t the time. It really wasn¡¯t the time. Instead, she dove to the floor and grabbed the man¡¯s phone. Dammit, it had gone to the lock screen, and needed a code. Quickly, she moved to the man and grabbed his hair. ¡°What¡¯s the code for your phone?! How do I call out? Where are the bombs?¡± She spoke to Pack without looking that way. ¡°Pull the fire alarm, get these people out!¡±


    The man, a guy in his late forties with short blonde hair and a thin mustache, gave a little chuckle. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I was you. Unless you want my buddy outside to trigger those bombs as soon as he sees people take off.¡± His eyes narrowed at them. ¡°People start leaving, he¡¯ll set them off. He gets any sign that the cell blocker is disabled, he¡¯ll set them off. He hears or sees cops or Touched start coming, he¡¯ll set them off. So, ya know¡­¡± He sneered. ¡°Maybe you two should just run for it. Two of you, one that can teleport? I bet you can get out in time.¡±


    Amber wanted to ask who this guy was, why he was doing this, who his partner was, and plenty of other things, but none of that seemed to matter at the moment. The most important¨C the only important thing right then, was taking care of the bombs themselves. So, grabbing the man¡¯s collar, she held it tightly while demanding, ¡°Where are they? How do we disable them?¡± When he simply scowled at her, she leaned back and spoke flatly. ¡°Pack, would you tell Holiday to bite one of his fingers off?¡±


    The man started to scoff, only for his eyes to widen as Pack gestured and the lizard-panther grabbed his hand in her teeth. ¡°Okay okay! Look, the passcode for the phone is four four two one, but it won¡¯t help you get your friends involved. It can only call my partner outside, that¡¯s it. I don¡¯t even know where he set up, just somewhere he could see the entrance. But if you unlock the phone, open the ¡®find boom¡¯ app right there and it¡¯ll detect the bombs. The¨Cfuck, the person who made the bombs gave us that shit to control them if we had to. You get close enough with the phone and you can disable them, okay? Just tell this thing not to bite my fucking fingers off, fuck!¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just tell us where they are?¡± Pack demanded, putting a hand on Holiday¡¯s back while the lizard kept the man¡¯s hand between her teeth threateningly.


    The man hissed before sighing. ¡°I dunno, okay? I paid someone else to put them in cuz I couldn¡¯t get them through security. He works with the security team. You¡¯ve just gotta track them down yourselves. Ten bombs, you got¡­. fifty-two minutes. You can make that work, right?¡±


    ¡°You better hope we can,¡± Amber informed him, already reaching out to grab a nearby scarf from a hanging coat. ¡°Cuz if we go up in flames, you¡¯ll be right there with us.¡± With that, she tied the man¡¯s hands, gagged him with another scarf, and hauled him back to the corner of the room. Seriously? Bombs? There were fucking bombs in here? How¨Cwhat¨Cno. No, she couldn¡¯t panic. She couldn¡¯t freak out. Not right now. Later. She could freak out later. Right now she had to stop the bombs and save all these people. And¡­ and she couldn¡¯t do it alone.


    With that in mind, Amber straightened and looked at Pack. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re here, or what you were here to steal, but I don¡¯t care. Would you please help me find these bombs?¡± If the guy who had brought these bombs in worked with security, there was no way she could even contact them to do something. Whoever he was, he¡¯d hear about it and set off the bombs. She couldn¡¯t contact the authorities, couldn¡¯t even get help from anyone in here. It was up to her and the La Casa Touched who¡­ who she felt very complicated about.


    ¡°Like you had to ask.¡± Pack had already picked up the man¡¯s phone, taking a cord from her pocket. ¡°Blackjack gave me this for¡­ something else, but it should work. Here.¡± She plugged the cord into that phone, then into her own before waiting a moment. There was a ding, and she yanked the cord out. ¡°Okay, now I¡¯ve got the same app our friend there was talking about. So we split up, find all ten bombs, and disable them without causing a panic, right?¡± Even as she said that, the girl had already started to shrink Holiday back into her normal form, catching the skink to put into her pocket.


    Amber hesitated, then gave a quick nod, looking down at her own phone. ¡°Right, and we¡¯ve got forty-nine minutes to do it. So we better hurry.¡± There were a lot of other things she wanted to say at that moment, but she settled on, ¡°Thanks. And be careful.¡±


    ¡°Forty-nine minutes to find ten bombs?¡± Pack waved that off. ¡°We can do it.


    ¡°At least, I really hope we can.¡±


    ******


    After leaving That-A-Way for the moment, Pack made her way out of the coatroom and hesitated. Part of her wanted to start warning people immediately. But that wouldn¡¯t do any good. It would just start a panic and make everyone run for the exits, which would make the guy outside set off the bombs. No, she had to find and disarm them with this little phone app thing. So, she began moving through the crowd, glancing down at the screen in the palm of her hand. Unfortunately, within twenty seconds, three different people had asked her to do different things for them. It was the uniform. They thought she worked here, which was just going to make this whole thing take even more time. Time she didn¡¯t have. So, the girl went back to those curtains and switched to her first costume. Now at least she would blend in with the rest of the guests.


    She had no idea why That-A-Way was here to begin with, or why she had been hiding in that room. Or, for that matter, why she wasn¡¯t dressed as herself aside from the mask. She was dressed all in black, like some sort of¡­ well, thief.


    It raised a lot of questions, but she wasn¡¯t going to get answers to any of them just yet. The bombs were more important. Fortunately, this app thing didn¡¯t seem hard to use. As far as she could tell, any time she got near one of the bombs, it would light up with a red circle in the middle of the screen. Then all she had to do was get close enough for it to turn green, and she could press ¡®detonate¡¯ or ¡®disarm.¡¯ It really was a bomb app for dummies. There was even a little number ten in the top right corner to tell her how many were left. Why it didn¡¯t just have a single button to disarm all the bombs at once from anywhere¡­ well, that would¡¯ve been too easy, wouldn¡¯t it?


    There, the light was flickering. She had to move closer to the¨C


    ¡°Dani?¡±


    Oh shit, it was Amber. Quickly hiding the phone up her sleeve, Dani turned that way. Sure enough, her date had just emerged from the crowd. ¡°Oh, hey. There you are. I was¡­ looking for you.¡± Fuck, she wanted to warn the girl to get out, but¡­ but¡­ fuck. She just had to disarm the bombs. There was no way to warn her, not in a way she¡¯d understand.


    ******


    Shit! Of course Dani had to be right here, the way the bomb detector was telling her to go. Amber cursed inwardly. Could she find a way to tell the other girl she should take off? No. No, even if she could make her leave casually, that might still make the guy outside get antsy enough to set off the bombs. And¡­ and¡­ fuck. Okay, she just had to play it cool. Just had to keep moving and disarm the bombs without letting Dani know what was going on.


    Forcing a smile to her face while adjusting the goggles she had put on after changing into the old costume since she hadn¡¯t wanted to draw anyone¡¯s attention by wearing the mixed That-A-Way and blatant thief outfit, Amber shrugged. ¡°Oh, well it¡¯s a big place. Big crowd. Come on, let¡¯s uh, take a walk so we¡¯re out of the way.¡± Yeah, that didn¡¯t make much sense, but she had to keep moving. To her relief, Dani didn¡¯t question it. The two of them began to move through the sea of people. Every once in awhile, Amber managed to glance down at the phone she had hidden partway up her sleeve. They were getting closer. It was flickering¡­. there, it was green. Her thumb quickly moved to hit the disarm button, and she let out a silent sigh of relief when the number in the corner switched from ten to nine.


    ¡°Uhh, so, having a good time?¡±


    *******


    Nine? That-A-Way must¡¯ve disabled this one. Quickly turning, Dani scanned the rest of the room. Was the other girl anywhere in sight? She had to be, but would she still look like she had in the coat room, or¨C


    Shaking that off, she forced a casual shrug, trying her best not to sound like there were nine more bombs she was trying to disarm before they killed her and everyone else in the building. ¡°Sure, I guess. You know, the dip¡¯s pretty great.¡± What the hell was she even saying? She was distracted, trying to subtly glance at her phone to see where she should try to maneuver the other girl to next.


    ¡°Oh, really?¡± Amber sounded genuinely intrigued, weirdly. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen any yet. Ahhh, you wanna grab some?¡±


    Thank God, a ready-made excuse. Jumping on that, Dani nodded. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll get the dip and find you. Uhh, keep heading that way.¡± She gestured toward the gambling room before starting to slip away. Right, now all she had to do was¨C


    *****


    Keep looking for those bombs. With Dani out of the way, Amber could search for the next one without worrying about the other girl seeing her constantly checking a phone she wasn¡¯t even supposed to have at the moment.


    Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t hard to find the second one. Within two minutes of making her way through the crowd, she had already gotten the green light and disabled it. Reaching up to stick an earbud in, she used her own phone rather than the piece of shit bomber guy¡¯s to call Pack so they could check in. Outside calls were still jammed, but within the same general area they could use what amounted to a short-range radio signal.


    The phone rang three times before the La Casa Touched picked up. ¡°Hang on¡­ There.¡± On the asshole¡¯s phone, Amber saw the number tick down to seven, even as Pack spoke. ¡°Three down?¡±


    There was something about the other girl¡¯s voice, but Amber couldn¡¯t focus on it. She started walking while checking the phone again. ¡°Yeah, and I think I¡¯m getting close to another one. We¡¯ve got thirty-eight minutes to find seven more.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯ve got the timer going too,¡± Pack replied. ¡°Look, assuming we get through this, you¡¯ve gotta tell me¨Cwait a minute.¡±


    There was a pause, before the number on the phone ticked down to six. Amber heard a hiss of triumph from the other end of the line. ¡°Fuck yeah,¡± Pack murmured. ¡°Another one down. When we get through this, you¡¯ve gotta tell me what you were doing in there.¡±


    ¡°Sure, right after you tell me what you were doing,¡± Amber shot back, before giving a polite smile to the man who glanced her way curiously. ¡°And how much it¡¯s being fenced for.¡±


    ******


    Scoffing as she made her way down one side of the refreshments table, Dani spoke smoothly into the bluetooth built into her plastic Caishen helmet while keeping her voice low enough not to carry to others in the crowd. ¡°Babe, I¡¯ll have you know, I¡¯m here for¡­ okay, not entirely legitimate reasons, but pretty good ones. We¡¯re still looking for Jennica, okay?¡±


    There was a brief pause before That-A-Way sighed. ¡°Fuck, I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t just assume, I just¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Dani promptly interrupted. The light was flashing again, very faintly, so she tried going one way, only for it to stop flashing. Wrong direction. Turning back the other way, she kept moving. ¡°I¡¯m a thief and there¡¯s a bunch of rich people here. I don¡¯t blame you for¡­ you know, adding two and two.¡±


    Okay, okay, just a bit further this way and¡­ shit, not that way. Turning slightly, she started to move forward only to run into two heavyset guys loudly talking to one another. When gesturing for them to step aside didn¡¯t work, Dani made a point of shoving her way through them, ignoring the annoyed curses that prompted. She didn¡¯t have time to worry about them. Six more bombs, they had to disarm six more. And then maybe she could try to salvage the rest of her actual mission and this date with Amber.


    Oh shit, speaking of Amber, there she¨C


    *****


    ¡°Hey!¡± Trying not to sound surprised as she quickly disabled the bluetooth in her ear and tugged it out in one smooth motion, Amber stepped up to where she had just seen Dani. ¡°Uhh, no luck with the dip?¡± God, she was a dip. There wasn¡¯t time for this. Why didn¡¯t she just tell the girl to¡­ to¡­ what? What could she tell her? Nothing, there was no way to explain it, and no time to try.


    ¡°Yeah, the guy with the tray must¡¯ve moved,¡± Dani replied, turning a bit to look around. ¡°I swear he was right here, but uhh. Wait, I think he¡¯s over there. You stay right here, I¡¯ll get it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, yeah.¡± Already thinking of an excuse she could have for not staying right there, Amber gestured. ¡°M-must be pretty good dip if you¡¯re chasing this guy down for it.¡± God damn it, why did she say that? Was she trying to make the other girl give up on finding it? What the hell was wrong with her?


    Sure enough, just as she had been afraid of, Dani hesitated and turned back to her. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not trying to avoid you or anything. I mean¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Amber quickly put in, trying not to think of the ticking clock. Half an hour for six bombs, she could do that. With Pack¡¯s help, she could do it. Fuck, had the other girl already found another one? She couldn¡¯t look at the phone to check. ¡°I promise, it¡¯s all good. We don¡¯t have to be attached at the hip to be here together, right?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Giving her a thumbs up, Dani seemed to be smiling behind that helmet. ¡°Lemme chase this guy down, then we can dance again or something.¡± With that, she disappeared into the crowd once more.


    *****


    As she moved away from Amber, Dani touched the button on her helmet to unmute her call. ¡°You find any more yet?¡± Her gaze glanced down to the phone, only to see it still said five out of ten, after she¡¯d managed to disable the fifth one surreptitiously while talking to Amber.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± came the response after a moment. ¡°I¡¯m uh, I¡¯m looking, one second. Think I¡¯ve got another one right¨C¡± And then the number ticked down to four. Dani could hear the relief in the other girl¡¯s voice, tinted as it was with continued worry about the rest. ¡°Six down. We¡¯ve still got time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got time,¡± Dani agreed, following the intermittent flashing light in the app to track down the next one. ¡°But¡­ if we run out, what¨C¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t run out,¡± came the immediate response. ¡°Four more, we can do this. Just¡­ just keep looking. And¨C¡± There was a brief hesitation. ¡°And thanks.¡±


    ¡°Not like I want to see a bunch of innocent people¡­ you know.¡± Dani didn¡¯t want to say that out loud, even if she was pretty sure no one was close enough to hear, or understand. ¡°Just keep looking, we¡¯ve got thirty minutes to find four more.¡±


    So, they continued to search the rooms, following the flashing light on the app. Dani found another relatively soon, then That-A-Way found two more over the next fifteen minutes. With about ten left on the clock, they only had one bomb to find. Unfortunately, that one proved to be the problem. Time was ticking away, and there was no sign of it. That little number ¡®one¡¯ continued to flash in the corner of the screen, while the minutes rapidly vanished.


    ¡°Where the fuck is this thing?¡± Dani had stopped worrying about what Amber was going to think. She¡¯d think about how to apologize to the other girl for seemingly ditching her once she made sure everyone survived the next few minutes.


    ¡°We can¡¯t do this,¡± came Way¡¯s response over the phone. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta take the chance to start teleporting these people out.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way,¡± Dani immediately put in. ¡°Look, even when this whole thing started, you couldn¡¯t have¨Chang on. Wait.¡± There had been a very faint flicker from the app. She stopped, turning until it flickered again. Looking up, she saw a stairwell access door and muttered a curse. ¡°It¡¯s upstairs, I got it.¡± Quickly, without even bothering to look around to see if anyone was looking, she moved through the door and began to run up the steps, looking at the phone the whole time. The flickering light was getting brighter. Just a bit more, a bit closer, and she¡¯d be able to¨C


    As she passed a stairwell, someone, a dark shape, stepped out of the corner to one side. Before Dani could finish registering what was going on, a taser was shoved into her side and triggered. She cried out, as the linoleum came up and smacked her. Fuck, fuck, her body wouldn¡¯t cooperate. She could feel Holiday squirm out from under her, but she had to focus to make the lizard grow.


    A man in a security uniform stood over her. ¡°Knew someone was disarming those fucking bombs,¡± he snarled, holding that taser in one hand and a pistol in the other. ¡°Should¡¯ve known it was a hero wannabe.¡±


    A hero wannabe? Oh, this guy was so dead. Snarling, Dani rolled over, trying to force her body to stop twitching so much. ¡°Y-you wanna see¨C¡±


    ¡°Uh uh,¡± he interrupted. The guy was tall, several inches over six feet. His skin was dark, with a shaven head. ¡°You move again, I¡¯ll put a bullet in your head. I don¡¯t think that plastic helmet¡¯ll save you, whoever you are. Now¨C¡±


    Behind them and down the stairs a bit, the door banged open, as someone came through. The figure stopped short abruptly, clearly staring that way. ¡°What¨C¡±


    ****


    ¡°¨Cthe fuck?¡± Amber had heard Pack cry out, and ran for the stairs access. Now she stood there, seeing the man standing in front of a fallen figure she couldn¡¯t see very well up on the next stairwell. It was Pack, it had to be. She was lying on the floor with this piece of shit standing over her with¡­ with a gun. Immediately, Amber forgot about everything else. She forgot about hiding her identity, about¡­ about all of it. ¡°Get the fuck away from her.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you think you can tell me what to do, bitch?¡± The man snapped those words testily, already raising the pistol. ¡°You think you matter? You think she matters? Lemme show you how much she matters.¡± His finger started to pull the trigger.


    No. No! Amber wouldn¡¯t let that happen. Only one thought filled her mind. She was facing west. Instantly, she hurled herself that way. The whole world slowed down, as her super speed kicked in. She was up the stairs before the man had finished pulling the trigger. She dove, catching hold of the girl lying there. The impact carried both of them in a slide across the floor of the stairwell.


    The gun was silenced, but she still heard the ping of the bullet ricocheting off the linoleum. Before the man could adjust his aim, Holiday was suddenly full-sized, roaring as she leapt that way to tackle him down the stairs.


    On top of Pack but not looking at her, Amber scrambled around, her gaze snapping that way. Holiday had the man down. His gun was already several feet away from him, as the panther-lizard kept the man¡¯s throat in her mouth without biting down. He, in turn, was remaining very still.


    But as soon as she saw that that was in hand, Amber looked at her phone. She was talking to Pack, not caring about the fact that she wasn¡¯t in costume. She wasn¡¯t even thinking about that. The clock was ticking down to almost one minute. Yet the light was green. With a sigh of relief, she hit the disarm button, not daring to breathe until the one flickered and then switched to zero.


    ¡°We did it,¡± she murmured. ¡°Holy shit, we did it.¡±


    ¡°Uhhh yeah,¡± came the response from the figure under her, the figure she had used her superspeed to save. It was Pack, of course. But her voice¡­. her voice was¡­


    Slowly, Amber turned her head to look at the figure in the slightly dented plastic Caishen helmet, voice catching in her throat. Her thoughts¡­ stopped. No¡­ wait¡­ could¡­ could¡­


    Raising her hand, the pinned figure pushed the helmet aside to reveal Dani¡¯s face staring up at her.


    ¡°Holy shit pretty much sums it up.¡±

 Schooling 24-12

    I had been through a lot of surreal things in the past couple of months. But I really couldn¡¯t think of anything more surreal in that moment than making dinner in Arleigh¡¯s kitchen alongside her, Ryder, and the skater I had been fangirling over since I could walk.


    Well, obviously there were things, like going into a virtual reality controlled by the girl who had apparently once been one of my best friends turned enemy because her psychotic supervillain father reprogrammed the computer her computer-brain and¨C yeah, the list of crazy things was actually pretty long. But, the point was, this was completely about my civilian life. It had nothing to do with being a Touched. If you took out all the Paintball situations, standing in the kitchen helping Arleigh, Ryder, and Inessa make pizza for dinner while we talked about skating was definitely pretty high up there. Even better, there was no real danger about it. This was a weird situation, but it wasn¡¯t a life and death weird one. Well, there was danger of wanting to stab myself for spending more time in this particular house, but still. I could resist that urge.


    Obviously, Arleigh didn¡¯t know anything about the skating scene, either board or blades. But, equally obviously, she didn¡¯t want to admit that. She kept talking like she knew everything there was to know, and just made things up when she had to. Whenever any of us made it clear we didn¡¯t know what she meant, she just waved it off as having learned ¡®different terms¡¯ when visiting places like California, and claimed that ¡®the coast people talk different.¡¯ Because God forbid she just say she didn¡¯t know something and listen to others who did.


    I could see Inessa roll her eyes a couple times as she glanced toward me. But she didn¡¯t speak up too directly, and neither did I. I guess because neither of us wanted to be rude inside Arleigh¡¯s own house. That and I didn¡¯t particularly want to give her even more reason to talk.


    Ryder, for his part, seemed equally clueless. But he was far more willing to admit that fact. He kept asking questions and seemed genuinely interested in what we were saying. And not just for Inessa either. He was interested in the stuff I was talking about too, as far as skating went. And, even more amazing, so was she. They both actually listened to my stories. Inessa freaking Sidorov listened to my stories about skating! It was like I¡¯d died and gone to some sort of paradise. I honestly wasn¡¯t sure which of their attentions made me blush more. But either way, it helped make up for the fact that I was stuck here in this particular house.


    Before the pizzas were done cooking, but after they had started to smell good, Errol came wandering down. From the way his mess of blond hair was sticking in every direction, I would¡¯ve thought he had just woken up from a nap or something. But apparently this was just what he looked like all the time. I was pretty sure Arleigh was going to tell him to go away, but before she could, Inessa started chatting with him cheerfully, and mentioned missing her own brother with all these long trips she kept going on. Obviously, Arleigh did a complete one-eighty and started talking at the boy as though they were really close, and how he was just the best little brother anyone could have. None of us were buying that, of course, but I wasn¡¯t going to give her any reason to stop treating her brother like a human being.


    Beyond that, I also found out that Ryder was apparently a vegetarian. He just spoke up about it to make sure we had a pizza that didn¡¯t have any meat on it. Surprisingly, Arleigh didn¡¯t say anything bad about that or even seem annoyed. When he brought it up, she immediately confirmed that they had a pizza that would suit him, and even asked, unprompted, if he had any other dietary needs. It was unexpected, to say the least, but still, good for her. It was one of the very few times that I noticed her act like a real human being who thought about others without it being forced or fake. For just a moment, I actually forgot about what sort of person she was. Then, of course, she had to go and ruin it by very clearly and obnoxiously faking interest in the video game her little brother mentioned, just because her special celebrity skating guest showed actual interest in it. Arleigh was a lot of things, but a good actress was not one of them. Given her apparently genuine acceptance of the food thing, it was even easier to tell when she was putting on an act. Or maybe she didn¡¯t care enough to put in an actual acting effort. Either way, she clearly didn¡¯t want to hear more about the game, yet (poorly) pretended she did just to impress Inessa. Which made me wonder why she bothered. I knew she didn¡¯t like skating, so why would she care about a celebrity skater? Was it just the celebrity part, or did her father push for her to show off for her? But if he cared that much, why wasn¡¯t he here? What was keeping him too busy to show up for this? And was I just being paranoid again about that whole thing? Yeah, I was probably just being paranoid. So, with some effort, I tried to push that thought aside. Whatever Trey Fosters was up to, it didn¡¯t affect me.


    With Inessa¡¯s suggestion, since Ryder was vegetarian, we dug through the large fridge and managed to put together something akin to a decent salad to go with the pizza. Arleigh didn¡¯t seem interested in that sort of thing at all, but Errol knew enough to find the dressing to go with it. We chopped up some tomatoes and cucumbers to go with the fresh spinach leaves, and even found some pepperoncini on the door. In the end, it was a pretty decent salad. Nothing that even would¡¯ve come close to matching anything Claudio or his assistants could make, of course. But then again, we weren¡¯t Michelin Star-rated chefs. At least, I wasn¡¯t, and I was willing to go out on a limb and say Arleigh, Ryder, and Errol weren¡¯t. On the other hand, as talented and incredible as Inessa was, it really wouldn¡¯t have surprised me to find out she actually did have that sort of skill.


    Finally, the food was ready. No sooner had we set it all out on the table and began to take plates and forks for the salad, than their other brother showed up. Micah came in through the back door, having apparently either been outside the whole time, or he just walked home and came in that way. Whatever it was, he grunted an uncaring greeting to us, reached out and shoved his sister none-too-gently out of the way so he could take the plate she had been about to use right out of her hand, and loaded it with pizza before grabbing a beer out of the fridge as he headed upstairs to his room. I could see Arleigh grimace painfully while rubbing her shoulder a bit where she had hit the wall from the hard shove, and felt a wave of confusing feelings pass through me. If that was an example of how her own big brother treated her when there was company around, especially famous company, who knew what he was like when they were alone? Was this the sort of environment she had grown up in? Weird thoughts passed through me about what that would do to a person. If he was that casually cruel in front of us, the things he could get up to in private¡­ eesh. Yes, obviously she was still absolutely terrible to hang out with, and not exactly a caring person herself. Especially to her own younger brother. But now that it seemed like there was a reason for that, it felt a little different. Hell, maybe the fact that her dad wasn¡¯t even here for any of this was another indicator of the environment she had grown up in. Yeah, my parents ran the Ministry and all that, but I had never gotten the impression they didn¡¯t care about me. Even Simon had made it clear, despite the teasing and everything, that he cared about me. This whole thing was just¡­ wrong and uncomfortable.


    I could tell the others felt the same way, especially Ryder, who sat next to me and kept glancing toward the doorway where Micah had gone. Something told me he was tempted to go after him and say something, but stopped himself. Which was a good thing, because I was pretty sure the older boy could have pounded him into a thick paste, and this probably wasn¡¯t the best time or way to show off my fledgling self-defense lessons. To say nothing else my powers. Oh God, the thought of having to convince Arleigh to keep my secret made my entire body shudder.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Inessa, of course, noticed, looking over at me from across the table. ¡°Hey, are you all right? There¡¯s nothing wrong with the pizza, is there?¡± She asked that while inspecting her own slice curiously.


    My head shook quickly as I took a bite to demonstrate. ¡°No, no! It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s cool.¡± I shrugged, searching my brain for excuses that would work. ¡°Sorry, I was just thinking of something else.¡± A quick thought came to mind, and I launched into a story about one time when I had misjudged a jump and ended up breaking my ankle. It distracted everyone from my previous reaction, especially when I talked about how gross it had looked while all bent out of shape. That made Inessa eventually jump into her own story about one of her bad injuries, and soon no one was thinking about my weird shudder.


    And yet, through all that, I saw Ryder glance at the door a couple more times, as if he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about Micah and that whole situation. Eventually, he excused himself to use the restroom. I immediately felt a slight flare of alarm go through me. Was he really going to the restroom, or was he going to go find Micah and say something to him about that whole situation? This could be bad. I might¡¯ve barely met the boy a couple times, but I liked him well enough. I sure as hell didn¡¯t want to find Micah punching him in the face next time we saw him. Call me crazy, but I really didn¡¯t think Arleigh¡¯s big brother was the sort to take criticism very well. My own brother teased me and even wrestled with me now and then, but the way Micah treated his siblings seemed different. There was no love there, no care. It wasn¡¯t that he was teasing them in a way that sometimes got out of hand, he genuinely did not seem to care if Arleigh was hurt by him shoving her into the wall. No way did I want Ryder to go find him on his own and have any sort of confrontation.That could only end poorly.


    Thinking quickly, I pretended I was getting a phone call and said it was my mom, so I excused myself to the other room while pretending to talk to her. As soon as I was out of sight from the kitchen, I looked around quickly just in time to hear footsteps disappearing up the stairs. Yeah, Ryder was definitely heading up there. This could turn really bad, really quickly.


    Grimacing to myself, I painted black on the inside of my clothes just in case there were cameras (or spying plants) that would¡¯ve seen me put it in any more obvious places, and made my way up after him. I wanted to get up there as quickly and quietly as possible, grab the boy, and get out before Micah noticed we were around. And before the others paid any attention to how long we had been gone. Reaching the top of the stairs, I looked around in time to see a shape disappear through a doorway at the end of the hall. Was that Micah¡¯s room? Did Ryder just barge in there? Oh God, if I started to hear shouting, I was going to yell at myself for taking so long. Quickly, yet quietly, I made my way down that hall to the doorway. I stopped just outside it, hesitated, then peeked through the crack. I expected to see Ryder and Micah about to have a confrontation. But what I saw was¡­ different. Very different indeed.


    The first thing I saw was that this wasn¡¯t a bedroom at all, and it certainly wasn¡¯t Micah¡¯s. It looked like a personal office. An expensive one at that, judging by the furnishings. Most relevantly, there was a desk there with a computer, which was where Ryder was standing. He was next to the desk, holding his hand out. Just as I peeked that way, my mouth opening to hiss that we had to get out of there, something happened to make the words die in my throat. A small, glowing figure appeared on the boy¡¯s palm. It cackled softly before jumping from his hand to the computer. I recognized it immediately, and had to cover my own mouth to stop the gasp of shock.


    Eits. Ryder was Eits. Oh God. Oh fuck. Ryder was Eits! No wonder he had seemed somewhat familiar! Had he recognized me? Did he remember my voice? I was pretty sure he didn¡¯t, or he probably wouldn¡¯t have tried something like this right now. But what was he even trying? Why was he here right now? Was he pulling off a job? Was this about stealing from the Taurus shipping company after he¡¯d been embarrassed about being caught before? Trey Fosters was one of their primary owners, and this place was easier to hit than my own family¡¯s home. Was that what this whole thing was about? Something told me that wasn¡¯t quite right, especially considering where this place was.


    We were in the middle of Sherwood territory. Would he really risk pulling a job like that around here? Especially with a gang like Sherwood, who were so good at spying on everyone.


    Needless to say, there were a lot of thoughts rushing through my head. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have time to sort my way through any of them. And I definitely didn¡¯t have time to focus on what Ryder/Eits was actually doing. Before I could even start to wrap my head around any of that, a sound from behind me made my gaze snap that way. Another door was starting to open. That had to be the room Micah was in, and he was about to come out. Eyes widening, I shoved the office door open the rest of the way and burst through before pushing it shut.


    Ryder looked up, mouth opening to stammer some excuse or another. But before he could, I rushed that way. The footsteps were approaching, and given the stairs were the other direction, this seemed like the only place Micah could be going. So, without another thought, I grabbed Ryder by the arm, and yanked him sideways toward the nearby closet. He heard the footsteps as well by that point, and didn¡¯t resist. The two of us managed to get the door open and slip inside, shutting it behind us just as the other boy came into the office itself.


    We could barely make him out through the cracks in the closet door, enough to see that he didn¡¯t seem to be trying to find us or anything. He didn¡¯t appear to have any idea we were there. Instead, the older boy walked to the desk and opened a couple different drawers, apparently looking for something. The boy was muttering curses under his breath as he rifled through the contents of the desk, then angrily shoved it shut. He straightened, apparently still annoyed about not finding whatever he was looking for. Then he turned to look at the closet.


    Uh oh.


    Yeah, he was definitely heading this way. And this closet wasn¡¯t big enough to hide in. There were a few stacked boxes and two filing cabinets in there, but that was about it. There were no hanging clothes to hide behind, no deep corners to squeeze into. If he opened that door, which he was clearly about to do, Micah would find us instantly. And how in the hell would we ever explain being all the way up here, hiding inside the closet of his father¡¯s private office? That¡­ that would be bad.


    There was only one area in this closet that had any room where we could hide and possibly not be seen. As Micah approached and reached for the door, I looked up. Oh God. What was I about to do? Was I really going to¨Ccould I really¨Cwas this the only way to¡­ my mind raced, going through what seemed like a million thoughts in those brief couple of seconds.


    I could feel Ryder tense beside me, obviously ready for some sort of fight. But before he could do anything, Micah was right there, just on the other side of the door. There was no more time, none. I had to make a decision right then and there, about whether I trusted him or not. Which was worse, exposing a secret to him, or letting Micah find us like that? Which was more dangerous?


    I made my choice. Reaching out, I shot Ryder, Eits, with a bit of black paint to silence the gasp I knew would be coming. Then I hit him with red paint as well as myself, before pointing upward. Just as the door started to open, we were yanked to the ceiling and held there. Next to me, I could feel Ryder¡¯s jerk of surprise, and saw his mouth open to blurt something, only to react with even more surprise as no sound came out. His gaze snapped to me, as I held a finger to my lips.


    Below us, Micah poked his head in. His focus was on the boxes, Which he dug through for a moment. I had to renew the red paint on Ryder and myself as the boy below seemed to take his sweet time. But he never looked up. He rummaged a bit, found something he had apparently been looking for, and celebrated with an annoyed, ¡°There you are, fuck.¡± It was a choice of words that obviously made me tense up, but he wasn¡¯t talking to us. Instead, he had some sort of folder in his hands, which he tucked under his arm before straightening up. The closet door closed, and then he was heading out of the office.


    I managed to put black paint on the two of us again, as well as the floor, just before Ryder and I both crashed back down. We landed within the small space before I shoved the closet door open and both of us fell out together, landing in a tangled heap on the floor of the office. The two of us lay there, staring at one another for a solid five seconds before we both hiss-blurted the same thing.


    ¡°You!¡±

 Schooling 24-13

    Unsurprisingly, there was clearly a lot running through both of our minds. Not to mention a lot we needed to say as well. Unfortunately, we didn¡¯t have the time to get into it. Even as I saw the boy open his mouth, I put my hand up to stop him. My voice was a hissed whisper. ¡°Not now. They¡¯re gonna figure out we¡¯re missing really soon. I don¡¯t know about you, but I don¡¯t exactly want to start explaining to Arleigh and her brothers why we¡¯re hiding up here in their dad¡¯s office.¡±


    A visible blush crossed his face and I saw his mouth open to say one thing, but he thought better of it and simply gave a short nod. He kept his own voice below as well, barely a whisper. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get back down there, without letting Micah see us. Hang on.¡± His head tilted a bit as though he was¨Coh, he was seeing through one of his mites. ¡°Okay, he¡¯s in his room and the door is mostly shut. The plants are still taken care of¨C¡± He saw the look on my face and explained quickly. ¡°They¡¯ve got cameras and plant spies in here. The cameras aren¡¯t any issue, but I¡¯ve been working on the plants for awhile. They were a problem until I got this stuff from a¡­ friend.¡± In one hand, he held up what looked like a small pocket-sized spray tube of perfume. ¡°It makes those plants, uhh¡­ hallucinate is the best word. Mostly it makes them see what they¡¯ve been seeing recently instead of what¡¯s really there. So if they¡¯ve been seeing an empty room¨C¡±


    ¡°They keep seeing an empty room,¡± I finished. ¡°That seems pretty specialized. And probably expensive. Where¨Cnever mind.¡± Interrupting myself, I shook my head. ¡°Later. So it¡¯s still working? And just how many plants do the Sherwood people have spying on this house?¡±


    For a brief moment, he looked confused. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t¨C¡± It was his turn to interrupt himself, shaking that off. ¡°Right, no time. Here.¡± Standing up, he moved to the door leading into the hallway and carefully poked the bottle through the doorway before giving it a quick spray. Then he counted to ten before opening the door and stepping out. ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± he whispered while heading through.


    On our way out of there and back downstairs, the boy kept glancing at me. I could tell he wanted to say something else, or maybe a lot of something elses. But as we had both established, there was no time. All that would have to come later. Instead, we quickly made our way back down and split up. He went into the kitchen with the others first, and I heard them start teasing him about getting lost.


    I waited another fifteen seconds before heading in after him, making a show of saying goodbye to my mother before shoving the phone into my pocket. Then I looked up and rolled my eyes. But I didn¡¯t talk about anything she supposedly said to me. I thought about it. Hell, I thought about coming up with a whole story about what my mother had said. But honestly, why would I talk to Arleigh about a phone call with my mom? There was no way that wouldn¡¯t come off as making up a story. So, I left it at the rolled eyes and looked toward Inessa before asking, ¡°How long are you in town for? And please tell me you¡¯re doing another show. I have got to be there.¡±


    The blue-haired girl offered me a grin. ¡°Well, if what Arleigh here has been saying is true, perhaps I should invite you to come up with me to help make the show even more impressive. It sounds as though you could teach me a thing or two.¡±


    A deep flush crossed my face, for more than one reason. First, I didn¡¯t really need to think about Arleigh talking about me at all, and I definitely didn¡¯t want her to talk about me being a good skater. That was just¡­ yeah, I didn¡¯t want that to be on her mind. Letting Ryder/Eits find out my real identity was one thing¨Cand yeah even that was freaking me out pretty bad right now. But the very thought of goddamn Arleigh finding out about me was enough to make me want to vomit. I could barely handle having to play nice with her as it was. If she had that sort of leverage, there was no way I would survive for very long. Or possibly no way she would. One way or the other, one of us wouldn¡¯t get through it.


    And yet, I still had to play it cool. This was my skating idol talking about me going to a show with her. No, not just going, actually performing with her. It was like a rock star inviting one of their biggest fans up on stage with them. What kind of person wouldn¡¯t jump at that? Even if it did mean letting Arleigh act like she had done me some sort of favor. A favor I would owe her for.


    Again, I felt the urge to vomit. But I kept it down, and simply offered a weak giggle, as though I was totally overwhelmed. It wasn¡¯t exactly a hard thing to fake. Actually, I wasn¡¯t really faking it at all. ¡°Oh, haha, uhh, no, I¨CI¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s nothing I could ever teach you.¡± Even as I said that, I could see Ryder staring at me from the corner of the room where he had moved to get a soda. He was out of sight from everyone else, so they couldn¡¯t see the way he was staring. But I could, slightly. It made my blush deepen a bit, which I played off as just being about the Inessa thing. ¡°You¡¯re like, the best in the world, dude.¡± My voice cracked a bit embarrassingly with that.


    A cheerful, charming laugh escaped the older girl, which sent a tingle through my stomach for some reason. She gave me a wink before replying with that clear Eastern European accent. ¡°Trust me, nobody is so good at something that they can¡¯t learn from somebody else. That¡¯s something I figured out a long time ago. Actually, I¡¯m pretty sure I learn something new from every big skater I talk to. And if Arleigh is to be believed, you are a very big skater.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a big anything,¡± I immediately pointed out reflexively. My blush was back and wouldn¡¯t go away. I honestly couldn¡¯t figure out whether it was more from her praise, or the way Ryder was looking at me. He wasn¡¯t being completely obvious about it after sitting back down at the table, but since everyone else¡¯s attention was on us, he had an excuse to stare a little bit. Under all that attention, I shifted in my seat before coughing. ¡°Seriously, it¡¯s no big deal. I just like to skate. And I learned a lot of it from watching you. So, you know, I¡¯m pretty sure anything I could teach somebody would be what I learned from you.¡±


    For her part, Inessa seemed to consider me briefly while taking a bite of pizza. Then she nodded and spoke casually. ¡°You should definitely come to my next show. It¡¯s tomorrow night at the park on¡­ what was the street?¡±


    ¡°Riverside.¡± That was actually Errol. I¡¯d almost completely forgotten the boy was there until he piped up right then. ¡°I mean, the Riverside Skate Park on Jefferson. It¡¯s a really cool pla¨C¡± He started to say something else, before jolting a little.


    ¡°Eat your pizza,¡± Arleigh, who I realized had just kicked her brother under the table, ordered before turning back to us. ¡°So you¡¯re going tomorrow, right, Cassie?¡±


    Some part of me was tempted to say that I had way too much to deal with right then, but that would have made her ask what I could possibly need to do that was more important than going to a live performance from my idol. An idol who happened to be sitting right there looking at me. Though, to be honest, I did consider what it would be like to outright tell Inessa my secret and get help from an international skating star, the part of my brain that wasn¡¯t completely enamored with her knew that was incredibly stupid. Even if I could talk to her about all that without Arleigh being around, what on Earth was she supposed to do about it? Yeah, she had been my hero for a good portion of my life. But, in the end, she was just a skater. I couldn¡¯t dump something like the Ministry on her, nor did I want to.


    And, when I got right down to it, there was no way to know for sure that I could even trust her. It was a painful thought to have, but if I couldn¡¯t trust my parents, there was no way I could just blindly trust some superstar skater I happened to like. It couldn¡¯t happen.


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    That was, obviously, just a fleeting thought before I pushed it out of my mind, a wild and completely ridiculous impulse. Maybe because I¡¯d already exposed myself to Ryder? Was that why the idea jumped into my head? Whatever, the point was, it couldn¡¯t happen.


    So, I forced myself to look back at Arleigh while casually replying, ¡°Oh believe me, if I have any say in it, I¡¯ll totally be there.¡±


    With that, we went back to eating. I hung out with them for another hour or so while trying not to look or act as though my entire world had been upended. I could not look like I was panicking or freaking out. Calm. I had to pretend I was calm. Hell, I had to pretend I was having a great time. Which¨Cyeah, to be fair that much wasn¡¯t hard. Arleigh would probably never be someone I voluntarily hung out with (though I was starting to think her older brother and possibly her dad were a really big influence on how she acted), but Inessa more than made up for that. It was just so cool to be there, eating dinner and talking to her as though she was a normal person. And yeah, I knew she really was, but this was¡­ it was special for me. Even if I did have that voice screaming in the back of my head to panic about the real situation.


    I had to talk to Ryder. I had to make sure he wasn¡¯t going to tell anybody. Yeah, he¡¯d kept my secret about being a girl, but this was even bigger. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to pull him aside without being obvious about it. And I had Jefferson coming to pick me up. Hell, even if he wasn¡¯t coming, Ryder and I couldn¡¯t exactly go somewhere else in this neighborhood to chat. Not with the Sherwood spies all over the place.


    To that end, before the dinner was over, I got a text on my phone. It was from Ryder himself, giving me an address elsewhere in the city, followed by a time, ten pm, and a question mark. He was asking if I was good with meeting up then and there. Hesitating slightly, I glanced across the table that way. Obviously he wasn¡¯t using his phone. He could control it with one of his mites without even taking the thing out of his pocket. Our gazes met briefly, and I gave a short nod without actually responding on my phone. That, I slipped back into my pocket. Then I turned my attention back to Inessa and tried to postpone freaking out until later, after all this.


    And hey, at the very least, Ryder was probably the least terrible person in this house who could¡¯ve found out my secret. Except maybe Errol, he seemed cool. But I wouldn¡¯t want to shove this sort of secret on him. He already had enough to deal with, having Arleigh and Micah as siblings. Inessa¨Cyeah I couldn¡¯t even imagine having her find out the truth about me. She didn¡¯t even live here. How would I deal with some international star knowing my secret identity? Probably panic all the time. Even more than usual.


    The point was, if Micah or Arleigh had found out who I was, my life would basically be over. This whole thing could¡¯ve been so much worse.


    Now all I had to do was wait until ten pm, so I could talk to Ryder and find out just how bad it was.


    *********


    I ended up having to promise Inessa that I would be there for her show the next evening. She gave me a couple ¡®backstage¡¯ passes (there wasn¡¯t really a stage or anything since it was at a skatepark, but there was a VIP area that would be roped and curtained off for privacy) for me and any friend I wanted to bring.


    But all that was something I would have to think about later. For now, I was in costume and perched on the side of the building across the street from where Ryder wanted to meet. I¡¯d thought about bringing Izzy with me, but that would have required me to tell her exactly what happened. Which I didn¡¯t want to do until Ryder and I actually talked. How could I expect him to keep my secret if I went and blabbed about his immediately?


    I¡¯d also tried texting Amber just to see if she was available to play backup if something went wrong. But there was no answer. I had belatedly remembered she was going to some special costume party with Dani tonight. Hopefully she was having a good time there. Or at least a less crazy one than I was having.


    Shaking those thoughts off, I watched as a figure emerged from the stairwell access door. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but I spoke quietly. ¡°Night vision engage.¡± Immediately, my Wren-provided helmet switched my viewing mode so I could see better. Sure enough, Ryder was standing on that roof, also in costume as he nervously fidgeted around.


    Obviously, I wasn¡¯t stupid enough to jump right over there. I looked around from where I was, scanning every area I could see. I didn¡¯t expect to find out that he had told the Ministry or Blackjack, just because¡­ well, if my parents knew my identity, I was pretty sure they wouldn¡¯t show that with an ambush in the middle of the night like this. And it didn¡¯t seem to be Blackjack¡¯s style, if he¡¯d even do anything with it at all aside from possibly use it to force favors out of me. But I wasn¡¯t going to take that for granted. I checked for any sign of an ambush for the next couple minutes, letting Eits wait for me.


    Finally, I couldn¡¯t put it off any longer. As certain as I could be that he was alone, I used blue paint to launch myself that way, landing a few feet away from the boy as he jumped at my arrival.


    ¡°Hey, Eits,¡± I managed to sound vaguely casual while turning that way. ¡°What¡¯s up? Read any good books lately? Seen a fun movie?¡±


    He, in turn, coughed and looked embarrassed. ¡°Hey, Paintball. I mean¡­¡± Pausing, the boy kicked the roof before meeting my gaze. ¡°Are we good? I mean, good to talk for real.¡±


    I knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if we could talk about our identities, or if I had someone watching. Meeting his gaze, I asked evenly, ¡°We¡¯re good on my end. Are we good on yours?¡±


    The question made him pause before he nodded once. ¡°I¡¯m alone, I swear. I haven¡¯t talked to anybody about it. Hell, I haven¡¯t talked to anybody about any of that. Nobody even knows I¡¯ve been going into Sherwood territory at all. It¡¯s kind of my own private investigation.¡±


    Private investigation? Well, I definitely wanted to know more about that. Why would he be investigating Arleigh¡¯s house? Pushing that out of my head for the moment, or at least to the back of it, I gestured. ¡°Stairwell¡¯s safe, right? I don¡¯t really wanna risk people looking out windows.¡±


    He confirmed it was safe, and we went through the door he had come out a few minutes earlier. Now we were standing in the stairwell, with no cameras or witnesses. This was as safe as we could possibly be. Reaching up, I hesitated very slightly, then pulled my helmet off, followed by the mask. My fingers were shaking a little bit as I did so, but I forced myself to look at him straight on. ¡°Hi.¡±


    Eits reached up to take the X-shaped mask off his own face, slipping it free. Then he was just Ryder again, holding the mask in one hand while staring back at me. ¡°Hi.¡± There was silence for a moment, before he finally offered a weak, ¡°This is awkward, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Little bit,¡± I agreed, dropping my gaze briefly. Then I took a breath and looked up again. ¡°Thanks. You know, for not telling anyone about me being a girl before. I¡¯m pretty sure if you had said anything to anybody, it would¡¯ve gotten around by now. Even Pack doesn¡¯t know, and I¡­ I know she¡¯s your friend. So, yeah, thanks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna tell anybody about this either,¡± he assured me quickly, his eyes staring right into mine. ¡°I won¡¯t tell Blackjack, or Pack, or anybody else. I just¨CI won¡¯t say anything, I swear.¡±


    ¡°You know, I¡­ I believe you,¡± I slowly replied. ¡°You kept me being a girl secret, now this is just sort of¡­ the next step?¡± Shrugging self-consciously, I sighed. ¡°I won¡¯t tell anybody about you either. I mean, yeah you¡¯re sort of¡­ a bad guy?¡± Even that felt wrong to say. The lines between good and bad were so blurred they seemed practically nonexistent sometimes. ¡°My point is, I won¡¯t use this to help anyone catch you, or follow you to find out any secret La Casa bases or plans, or¡­ or anything like that.¡±


    He offered me a faint smile. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure if you were the type to do that, you could¡¯ve followed Pack one of those times. Even if you¡­ don¡¯t know who she is?¡± His voice turned questioning.


    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± I replied. ¡°Trust me, that whole situation is already awkward enough as it is. I don¡¯t know who she is and I¡¯m not trying to find out. You¡­¡± Oh boy was there still a lot I needed to say. ¡°Look, before we get into anything else, I just¡­ I know you just said you wouldn¡¯t tell. And like I said, I believe you. But you really can¡¯t tell. You can¡¯t even let anyone know that you know. You can¡¯t hint. You can¡¯t¨C¡± My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to think of how to make sure he understood how vital this was. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s more important than you know. I mean, life and death important. You have to keep it a secret. I can¡¯t¨C I can¡¯t get into why it¡¯s so¨C¡±


    ¡°Because of the Ministry, right?¡± the boy immediately put in.


    ¡°And because your parents are the people in charge of it.¡±

 Schooling 24-14

    For a few long seconds after that, I stared at the boy. My mouth hung open. I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to that. Hell, I¡¯d just started to get over the shock of having found out who he really was, and having exposed my identity to him. What was I supposed to say to him somehow figuring out the rest of it? Finally, I managed a squeak, which sounded a bit like an old screen door slowly opening. That sound snapped me out of my reaction enough to find words. ¡°H-how did you¨Cwhat¨Chuh?¡± Yeah, I said I found words, I didn¡¯t say they were eloquent ones.


    Ryder quickly held up his hands. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I wasn¡¯t spying. I mean, I was spying, but not on you. I mean my spying on them didn¡¯t have anything to do with figuring out your thing. I mean¨C¡± He stopped, taking a breath. ¡°I should probably start over.¡±


    Taking a breath, I gave a quick nod. ¡°Uh huh, uh huh, probably a good idea.¡± I had no idea what he meant by spying¨Cwait, no, yes I did. Arleigh¡¯s family, duh. He had been sneaking around their place and breaking into their fathers office. Why he was doing that, I had no idea. He¡¯d said it wasn¡¯t for Blackjack or La Casa, that he was working on his own. Which¡­ yeah, I still had no idea what that was about. But my main focus was on how he knew about my family.


    Still keeping his hands up, as though he was either trying to calm me down or surrender, Ryder started again. ¡°Okay, so I didn¡¯t know the whole truth until we were in the closet¨Cactually it was after that. I mean¨Cright. After we got out of the closet downstairs in the kitchen, I was thinking a lot. I mean, about everything. If you were Paintball, that meant¡­ I didn¡¯t know what it meant, not at first. But I was thinking about it that whole time we were finishing dinner, and right up until you showed up here on the roof. And I realized that your parents running the Ministry makes everything else make sense. Everything about how you reacted to everything, I mean.


    ¡°You¡¯re so desperate to keep your identity secret. I know you don¡¯t really like it when people think you¡¯re a boy at your school. That¡¯s what the others were saying, anyway. When we were at the skatepark, I mean. Even Arleigh said you don¡¯t like that, and if she notices something, it¡¯s either wrong or really obvious. And I was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t wrong. So you definitely don¡¯t like it when people at your school call you a boy, but you pretend to be a boy in costume? That didn¡¯t make any sense to me, unless¡­ unless hiding your identity was more important than that. And the people you¡¯d be most likely to want to hide your identity from are your parents. They¡¯d probably be the first to figure out who you were without the boy thing. And why would you want to hide from your parents that much? Because they¡¯re the Ministry, the people you¡¯ve been trying to investigate. Which I uhh, picked up from some of the things Pack said or asked about before.¡± He finished up with a slightly awkward smile and shrug. ¡°See, not spying. Just¡­ thinking all that through.¡±


    Oh boy, how was I supposed to react to that? Wait, I knew. ¡°How did you know about the Ministry?¡± I asked that flatly, watching his expression for any sign of lying or making up a response. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s not the sort of information Blackjack gives out to every member of his gang.¡±


    Snorting audibly, Ryder shook his head ¡°No, trust me, he doesn¡¯t.¡± He took a moment to glance away, a myriad of emotions playing out across his face, before he slumped against the wall. Then he told me the full story about the mysterious group who had helped him get through his transition. It wasn¡¯t just Blackjack or La Casa responsible for that. Some guy from this mysterious group, who went by Squire (Simon, of course, though I kept my mouth shut), had actually saved him from a few assholes and made sure he was safe. Later they asked for help with something else. Something that had made Ryder pay attention to them. Apparently the Ministry (not that he¡¯d known what they were called at that point), were trying to stop Pencil and Cup from finding a specific name within some sealed adoption records. What name? Errol Fosters, as in Arleigh¡¯s adopted little brother. Ryder didn¡¯t know exactly why the Scions were so obsessed with finding this kid, or why the group who had helped him out and clearly had all that power were trying to stop them. But he did want to find out, so he investigated by getting himself hired as Arleigh¡¯s tutor so he could snoop around.


    With an audible sigh, the boy waved a hand. ¡°I knew it was going to be dangerous trying to look around that place in the middle of Sherwood territory, but I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d be going right into the middle of the lion¡¯s den.¡±


    ¡°Middle of the lion¡¯s den?¡± I echoed blankly, before my brain caught up with my mouth. Everything he had said so far, everything he¡¯d implied. Wait a minute¨Cmy eyes widened. ¡°Hold on, wait, wait. What¨Care you trying to say that¨Cdo you mean those guys¨C¡± I shut my mouth, inhaling sharply through my nose while staring at him. Instinctively, I lowered my voice. ¡°Are you trying to say that Arleigh¡¯s family are part of Sherwood?! But they¨Cher father runs one of the biggest technological¨Cthey¨CSherwood attacks Taurus trucks! Taurus delivers technology all over the¨C¡± Then I stopped, still reeling. ¡°Aaaand that would probably be one of the best possible covers they could have. Who would ever think that the people behind a Touched-Tech delivery company were also the violently anti-technology Fell-gang?! You just told me they were, basically, and I still didn¡¯t believe it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, pretty much,¡± he agreed. ¡°It was a lot for me to take in too, I promise. Arleigh being Clime¨C¡±


    Okay, that made me do another double-take. ¡°She¡¯s who?! But¨Cbut Clime is this total nature-loving girl who¨Cshe¡¯s¨Cand¨Cohhh she¡¯s good. Wow, she¡¯s better at pretending to be someone else than I ever thought she¡¯d be. What the hell?¡± My poor brain was taking a battering from all these shocking revelations. I felt like they were going to give me a concussion or something.


    Ryder was shaking his head, putting a palm against his face. ¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t have said that. Damn it, there¡¯s a whole thing about not¨Clook, you can¡¯t act on that, okay? I mean you can¡¯t tell the cops or anything. If you do they¡¯ll¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll backtrack everything to figure out where the leak is, which means they¡¯ll double-check everyone they¡¯ve had contact with,¡± I finished for him. ¡°And you¡¯ll be one of the first people they hone in on, especially if they check with the Ministry and find out who you really are. Or the Ministry just does the work for them. And if the Ministry checks in and finds out you started investigating the Fosters right after that¨Coh my dad knows.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Ryder blinked at me, then realized. ¡°Oh. Oh he was there with you when you guys were in the driveway. He saw me there with¨Coh.¡± It was his turn to rock backward in obvious shock before adjusting. ¡°I mean¨CI mean I¡¯m not dead yet. No one¡¯s said anything to me. He had to figure out why I was there, right? I mean, there¡¯s no way that could be a coincidence. As soon as he saw me there, he had to have figured out that I knew the name and was investigating, so why haven¡¯t the Ministry or Blackjack said anything to me about backing off?¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re thinking about hiring you?¡± I offered. When he gave me a look, I pushed on. ¡°No, I¡¯m serious. You did all this on your own, so maybe they¡¯re waiting to see if they can trust you with more stuff. You know, seeing what you do with this information, how effective you are at dealing with it, that sort of thing. They¡¯re probably ready to jump in if you do something they don¡¯t like, but for now they¡¯re sort of giving you slack on the leash or whatever so they can see what happens. See how effective you are at the whole thing and how much you can find out.¡±


    He was still absorbing that while I pushed on. ¡°And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not about to call the cops on Arleigh. As fun as that would be in some ways, especially now that I know she¡¯s literally a villain and not just annoying and rude, it¡¯d be just as bad for me. Because if they start looking into people who have interacted with her lately, I¡¯ll get attention too. Remember, you¡¯ve been at their house multiple times, and you have no reason to expose her. Not considering what you¡¯re actually there for, I mean.  If I was over to their house and the very next day Paintball suddenly knew who she really was, I think they might be able to add two and two. I kind of try to avoid letting anyone connect Paintball and Cassidy. So yeah, I¡¯m not gonna tell anyone.¡±


    Visibly relaxing a little bit, Ryder met my gaze. ¡°Thanks. I mean seriously, thank you. I can¡¯t¨C¡± He stopped, giving an audible chuckle of disbelief. ¡°This whole situation is a lot to take in, isn¡¯t it?¡°


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    Snorting, I retorted, ¡°You think? I¡¯m pretty sure if I get one more shocking reveal tonight, I¡¯ll fill up my punch card and get another shocking reveal for free.¡±


    The remark made him snicker before he looked me up and down for a moment. ¡°You really have been through a lot the last couple months, haven¡¯t you? I¡¯ve been dealing with this Errol thing, and it¡¯s been hard enough to keep secrets from the rest of La Casa. But you¡­ you¡¯ve been keeping secrets from your family. I mean, that wouldn¡¯t be hard for me, but you seem like you have a pretty good relationship with them.¡± Right after saying that, he blanched. ¡°Shit, sorry. That¡¯s both none of my business, and not necessarily true. Outward appearances don¡¯t¨CI mean that¨C¡± He stopped short and gave a sigh. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just gonna shut up about it.¡±


    I glanced away, pulling my arms across my stomach. ¡°Yeah, I kind of freaked out when I found out who they really are, and the stuff they do. The first hint I had that my family weren¡¯t exactly on the up and up was finding out my brother was responsible for executing two people.¡± As Ryder reacted to that, I went on to give him a quick summary of how that first night had gone.


    ¡°But ever since then, I¡¯ve found out they¡¯re responsible for some good things too,¡± I added while giving a helpless shrug. ¡°You know, like what happened with you. Or how they stop some crime. But that doesn¡¯t¨Cmy family still profits from all of it. Sure they do good stuff with it, but they do bad stuff too. They let bad things happen and then excuse it if the people pay the right fine or tax or whatever. It¡¯s not¨C¡± I sighed heavily. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. The whole thing is so complicated.¡±


    There was a moment of silence before I felt Ryder reach out and put his hand on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry,¡± he murmured. ¡° I mean, like I said before, your family¡¯s group really helped me out. If it wasn¡¯t for them, and Blackjack, I¡­ I don¡¯t know where I¡¯d be right now. I don¡¯t know who I¡¯d be. But I get what you mean about it being complicated. If you really found out about them by seeing a couple people get murdered, and then found out your brother was responsible, I don¡¯t¡­¡± He swallowed audibly. ¡°Yeah, I kind of get why you feel that way. I wouldn¡¯t know how to react to all that either. I¡¯m basically on the outside of it and even I don¡¯t know how to react.¡±


    A strained and slightly high-pitched giggle escaped me for some reason. ¡°I guess it¡¯s kind of a lot, isn¡¯t it? I still don¡¯t know what I¡¯m going to do about all of it. I keep telling myself I just need to find out more, but I don¡¯t know how much I need to know before I do something, or what I should even do. I¡¯ve got other things to deal with, like helping¡­ helping a couple of my teammates with their own problems. And there¡¯s the gangwar, and the whole Scions recruiting people thing, and¨C¡± I stopped, realizing there was already another distraction. ¡°Wait, what are you gonna do about the Scions thing? Errol, I mean. Did you ever find out why they¡¯re looking for him? Or why the leader of Sherwood adopted him? Wait, is that a coincidence? I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s not a coincidence.¡±


    Ryder dropped his hand from my shoulder and slumped back a bit. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s not either. They adopted him to like¡­ keep an eye on him or something, I guess? I dunno. But it seems pretty obvious, you know?¡± He glanced away then while adding, ¡°And¡­ yeah, I do know what the Scions want him for. I stole some files from the house before, and I heard¡­ I heard Mr. Fosters talking to someone he called Minister Gold. Actually that whole thing is what led to me figuring out they were called the Ministry. That and some other things.¡±


    He shook that off before pushing on. ¡°Like I said, I know why they¡¯re so desperate to find him. So desperate, actually, that that Cup chick had a really intense program running to sort through all the adoption files. It was running on a laptop that was pretty damn hard to get into. Seriously, this thing needed a numerical passcode, a fingerprint, and a voice print to get into. She did not want anyone opening the damn thing.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I announced, ¡°after all of the experiences I¡¯ve had with Cup, and that¡¯s way more than I ever wanted, there¡¯s a lot of things I would call her. But ¡®careful¡¯ isn¡¯t one of them. If she went through all that trouble to lock that laptop up that securely and keep that program running, it has to be something huge. And it can¡¯t just be something like the kid knew their real identities or whatever, because the Ministry wouldn¡¯t be having you go through all that trouble to get into the laptop just to hide the information. Not after Pencil and Cup were already exposed. At first I thought maybe it had something to do with my own family¡¯s identities, but that can¡¯t be it either. They have nothing to do with this Errol kid, either before or after he was adopted. I mean, I don¡¯t think they did¡­¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t, not as far as I can tell,¡± Ryder assured me.


    That made me look at him once more, realizing, ¡°Wait, you said you did know why Pencil and Cup want to find Errol so badly, and why the Ministry is trying to make sure that doesn¡¯t happen. What¨Cwhat¡¯s so important about him?¡±


    So, he told me. Over the next couple minutes, Ryder explained that Errol¡¯s birth parents were apparently college roommates and friends of the man named Rodney Barlow. Or, as he was known throughout the rest of the world, Overseer. Which was a name I recognized immediately. Actually I knew the name Rodney Barlow too, but Overseer even more so. Seven years back, he had been a big problem in Wisconsin. Basically, any time he touched a piece of someone¡¯s body, like their hair, blood, or even their sweat, he could ¡®charge,¡¯ it. When he did that, he could see through that person¡¯s eyes, hear everything they heard, and even control them like puppets.


    But it didn¡¯t end there. It got worse. When he had enough pieces of someone, he could fashion those pieces into these little dolls. And anyone could use those dolls, not just him. Yeah, any random person, you didn¡¯t even have to be Touched. If you picked up someone¡¯s doll and held it, you could control them.


    ¡°Oh¡­ oh I don¡¯t like that,¡± I managed, my eyes widening as I stared at the boy. ¡°I don¡¯t like that at all. This sounds really bad already.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t exactly get better,¡± he warned me before continuing. ¡°Anyway, from what I¡¯ve been able to find out, Cup and Pencil have this DNA-locked safe that used to belong to Errol¡¯s parents. They killed them, but they didn¡¯t realize the safe was DNA-locked. And everyone¡¯s pretty sure Overseer left dolls in that safe. Dolls of Touched here in Detroit, because he was planning on coming here and taking over before he was arrested.¡±


    I absorbed that. ¡°So, there could be dolls inside that safe of anyone who was Touched seven years ago. Maybe even everyone, knowing how Overseer worked. And Cup and Pencil have that safe. But they can¡¯t get into it because they need Errol, except they don¡¯t know who he is¡­ yet. Hold on, I don¡¯t wanna sound morbid¨CI mean I¡¯m not pushing for this¨CI mean¨C¡±


    ¡°You wanna know why the Ministry hasn¡¯t just killed Errol, don¡¯t you?¡± Ryder finished for me, his expression grim. ¡°Yeah, I sorta had the same thought, believe me. I don¡¯t want them to kill him either, it just seems like the obvious solution for a group that¡¯s already willing to kill.¡±


    I nodded slowly at that. ¡°So¡­ why haven¡¯t they? Do they really not want to kill a kid? Is that¨C¡± It sounded too naive to my own ears to think it could be that simple. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t either,¡± he replied. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ve been trying to sneak around there a bit more, to try to figure out if they¡¯ve got plans for Errol or something. You know, plans they need him for. I was working on getting into some of Hemlock¡¯s more secure files tonight, but then¡­ you know.¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°I interrupted. But if I hadn¡¯t, Micah would¡¯ve found you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I let myself get too distracted,¡± he agreed, blanching visibly at the thought before focusing on me. ¡°Thanks again. And thanks for, you know¡­ trusting me not to tell anyone.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right back at you,¡± I replied as casually as I could manage. My voice still cracked a bit anyway, making me flush visibly. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll see if I can find out anything about this situation too. My team and I just stole a bunch of files from the Ministry. I¡¯ll look for anything involving Errol, or Overseer, or his parents. You know, anything like that. Maybe we accidentally grabbed something relevant and didn¡¯t even notice.¡±


    ¡°That was¨C¡± Ryder stared at me before giving a low whistle. ¡°Right, you guys are pretty impressive.¡± He smiled before sobering. ¡°Right, I guess we just¡­ keep each other¡¯s secrets and keep looking into this, huh?¡±


    My head bobbed once more. ¡°I guess so. But Eits¨CI mean Ryder¡­ seriously, be careful. I know the Ministry helped you out, but they can be very dangerous too. Especially if they start to think you might be a threat. And if Pencil thinks you might know something¡­¡± I blanched, thinking briefly about how badly Ryder had been hurt the last time he had information the Scions wanted.


    He promised he would, and we made a plan to meet up sometime soon, after I had a chance to go through that stuff. As if I didn¡¯t already have enough to deal with. Finally, I put my mask and helmet back on and left the boy there so I could start heading home. There was a lot I had to think about.


    As I started to leave, my phone buzzed. It was Amber. Answering, I leapt off the roof and let my red paint carry me to the next building. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Just uhh¡­ checking in. Sorry, I got kinda busy at the party and¡­ Never mind, everything okay?¡± Her voice sounded a little odd, strained maybe. Or I could¡¯ve been imagining it. ¡°Your text wasn¡¯t exactly clear, but if you still need¨C¡±


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good,¡± I replied. ¡°It¡¯s just been one of those nights, you know?¡±


    There was a brief pause before she replied, ¡°Dude, trust me.


    ¡°I know exactly what you mean.¡±

 Interlude 24A - Fragile and Deicide

    Her father would never approve of this. As she stood on the roof of one of the tallest buildings in Detroit, Melissa Abbot knew that much for sure. He didn¡¯t know she was here, and if he had, he would have bent reality in half if that was what it took to get her away from there. The nine-year-old girl wasn¡¯t sure exactly how he would react to seeing her standing with her toes on the very edge of the roof, but she did know it would be dramatic. Her father was good at being dramatic. It probably came from being the leader of a gang of supervillains. You had to be dramatic for stuff like that. Deicide, Cu¨¦lebre, Sandon, even Pencil, they were all dramatic.


    Did the Ministry have something to do with that? She knew they kept crime in the city under control, but still present, so they could get rich off of it or something. It was weird, and she didn¡¯t completely understand the whole thing. But she did know that they wanted a lot of tourist people to come, and they wanted a lot of exciting Touched things to happen. It brought money to the city in plenty of ways. Money and power. The government sent the city money to help deal with the Touched situations, which allowed them to recruit more Star-Touched, which made people see the city as being safe so they brought more tourism dollars and business. They just had to like, balance it and stuff.


    The way Melissa saw it, the Ministry was sort of like the sun. It was big and powerful, staring too hard at it would be bad for her, but she needed it to stay alive. Also, if it was suddenly gone with nothing to replace it, she was pretty sure life everywhere she looked right now would get a lot worse. And yet, if it got too much stronger, that probably wouldn¡¯t be good either.


    Not that the actual sun was out right now, of course. It was too late for that. The sun had gone down before she finished with her patrol with Wobble and Whamline. And oh how tempted she had been to come up with a W name so they could be WWW.


    Heee, patrol. Last month she had been completely bedridden. No, not just last month. She had been bedridden basically her entire life, as far back as she could remember. She was always too weak to run around like a normal kid. She just sat in her bed and dreamed up stories. She imagined grand, epic adventures. Adventures that some part of her had always known she would never get to have for herself.


    Known. She had known it, and yet, here she was. She had used a spray of her glass shards to trap a man with a knife earlier. He had been harassing this girl who was only a few years older than Melissa herself, barely a teenager, which was just super-gross. He¡¯d threatened to cut her if she didn¡¯t do what he said. He was a bad guy, a real bad guy, and she stopped him. The boys were busy with other things down the street, but she had seen the man drag the girl into an alley, and she stopped him.


    It was possible that she was still a little hyped up after all that. Going from being trapped in her bed with a body that would break if she stepped too hard, to being¡­ well, technically she still had a body that would break if she stepped too hard, but now it didn¡¯t matter. She had been metaphorically made of glass, and now it was literal. But it was also better, because she could shatter apart over and over again, and just put herself back together.


    Not that that stopped her father from worrying completely. Hence why he would probably freak out a little bit if he saw her standing on the edge of this roof. He¡¯d asked her more than once if she had a death wish, and not jokingly every time. He was seriously worried about her. Which was silly. Of course she didn¡¯t have a death wish. The whole reason she kept throwing herself into these situations and doing the stuff that made him worry was because she wanted to live. She wanted to experience everything.


    She had spent years trapped in her bed, imagining the things she would do if she ever had a chance. Now she had it. Her body was fine. Well, in a manner of speaking. Every memory she had up to the moment she had Touched was filled with the fear of breaking.


    But now? Now breaking couldn¡¯t kill her, so she refused to be afraid of it. She refused to be afraid of falling as she tilted her head to look at the ground down far, far below. From now on, she was going to live.


    It was now or never if she was going to do this. Her ride back home didn¡¯t know she was already done with patrol, but he would be coming soon, and would want to know why she wasn¡¯t waiting at the usual spot. If he wondered more than a few moments, he would call her father, and that would start a whole thing. If she was going to try this, it had to be now.


    Of course, she could¡¯ve tried it from much lower, or even the ground, but hey, her dad wasn¡¯t the only dramatic one in the family.


    Taking one last look down and around at the street below (mostly empty thanks to the curfew), Melissa walked back several long, deliberate steps. She glanced at her glass arms and legs, currently not hidden behind the incogniter. Then she looked over her shoulder at the crate full of glass bottles she had carried up here. Without wasting another moment, she clapped both hands together hard enough to make them shatter. Then she sent the resulting shards from her broken hands flying out to hit the bottles. Every bit of glass they touched, she could suddenly sense and control.


    A moment later, the pieces of her hands came back and reformed themselves before safely attaching to her wrists. Meanwhile, the bottles she had taken control of rose and hovered in the air behind her. There were a hundred of them, and they all shattered at once. The resulting thousands of shards all flew around like a swarm of bees around the girl as she looked across the street toward the next building once more. Taking a moment to collect herself, Melissa smiled very faintly before whispering, ¡°This is for you, earlier me.¡±


    With that, she ran forward and leapt off the roof of that enormous skyscraper. The nine year old girl plummeted rapidly toward the ground, even as her swarm of broken glass shards dove after her. Several hundred of the shards merged under her feet to form an angled ramp that swooped down and around. Landing on it, Melissa maintained her momentum by racing along the ramp toward the steep, curved slide that the rest of those shards were making. With a loud whoop, she dove onto the slide head first, riding it down through midair. Shooting off the end and tumbling through the air, she laughed riotously even as the ramp and slide disintegrated, their pieces swarming after her to form a sideways, slightly angled path right in front of her. She hit the ramp hard enough to shatter her feet, but that only made her stumble very slightly before the glass reformed and she was able to keep running.


    To one side, she could see a few people looking out the windows of the building. She waved at them cheerfully before making the glass walkway shatter under her so she could drop once more. Tucking her arms to her sides and angling her feet downward, the girl plummeted and spun, squealing out loud. This was the most amazing, wonderful moment in her life. No, no, that was when she had been able to run around the block alongside her father. Yes, maybe most would have found that shockingly mundane in comparison to this. But for Melissa, it had been everything she dreamed of while being stuck in her bed.


    She was still falling and squealing as something flew in from the side to form a different ramp under her. No it wasn¡¯t a ramp, it was a funnel of some kind. Melissa barely had time to notice it appearing before she was suddenly sliding down the funnel. It carried her around in circles, like a spiral slide while she tried to focus on using her glass to break through it. But it all happened so quickly. The twisting slide was carefully angled to slow her descent until she finally came to a stop lying directly on her back, cocooned within this weird material. Wait. Curiously, Melissa moved her arm a bit and easily cut through it with her sharp glass finger. Paper? Wait, the slide was made of paper? That meant¡ª


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    The question came from everywhere at once, the words filling the air even as the top of the enclosed paper slide opened to reveal an armored figure standing there on top of two floating books, one foot on each. A dozen other books were hovering around this figure, the source of the voice. The books would open randomly and flip to a page before a word on that page was spoken aloud in that loud, seemingly omnipresent voice.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Taking all that in before focusing on the figure in armor, paper armor, Melissa pointed while blurting, ¡°Deicide? Wait, do we have to fight right now? I was having fun.¡±


    There was a pause as the figure stared at her before the box flipped through pages again and the voice spoke. ¡°Fun? Are you saying you weren¡¯t in danger?¡±


    The question made Melissa giggle a little bit before she quickly covered her mouth. ¡°Oh, sorry. I mean, not really?¡± To demonstrate, she focused on her own glass form and made it float up off the paper slide. She hovered there in the air and spread her arms to either side. ¡°See? I could stop whenever I wanted. Besides, if I hit the ground and broke, I¡¯d just put myself back together again. Thanks, anyway? But, um, I thought you were a bad guy?¡±


    There was a mix of faint annoyance and dry amusement in the voice now as Deicide replied, ¡°There are different types of bad, I would have you know. Allowing a small child to plummet to her death is slightly worse than I prefer to see myself as. Even if others would disagree.¡±


    That made sense, of course. Melissa¡¯s own father was one of the nicer types of bad. Still, she didn¡¯t want to say that. Instead, she formed a new ramp under her feet so she could stand there next to the villain. ¡°Everyone says you¡¯re really angry right now. You know, after¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know what they¡¯re referring to,¡± the books interrupted. That armored figure folded her arms while continuing to seemingly stare at her. ¡°I¡¯m still not about to let someone like you fall and die. Doesn¡¯t matter how pissed off I am. I¡¯m not a monster.¡±


    After another moment of hesitation, Melissa asked, ¡±But you are going to kill other people, right?¡±


    The armored figure seemed to shrug. ¡°Why, do you want to try to stop me?¡± At first, Melissa thought the voice was taunting, but then she realized it was more curious. It was as though Deicide really wanted to know if the girl was going to try to intervene. ¡°You might have trouble with that. I can be pretty persistent.¡± Another pause came, before she added, ¡°Especially when I¡¯m pissed off.¡±


    Once more, Melissa hesitated. She wasn¡¯t sure she should bring this up, but then again, when would she ever get a chance like this again? ¡°How come you hate Cu¨¦lebre so much? A lot of people keep saying this seems personal. It¡¯s not just about taking territory. It¡¯s like you really wanna, um, hurt him.¡±


    Several long seconds of silence passed. Deicide seemed to be staring off at nothing. It was like she couldn¡¯t decide if she was going to answer or not, like the way Melissa¡¯s dad would get when she asked him how bad her illness was getting. The young girl waited before starting to speak up to tell her never mind, not wanting to push her luck. But before she could do more than open her mouth, that voice came again.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say, I am one of his many victims, whom he has never thought about. The specifics don¡¯t really matter to anyone but me, certainly not to him. But he has hurt too many people. He has a reckoning coming, and I am going to give it to him.¡±


    Melissa raised both shoulders in a shrug. ¡°But aren¡¯t you hurting people too? And not just to get to him. You run one of the biggest gangs in the city. They definitely hurt people.¡±


    ¡°Hardly one of the largest gangs right now,¡± Deicide pointed out with a dark tone. ¡°Not after those arrogant mother¡ª¡± She stopped, seeming to take in who she was talking to. ¡°Oh well. They¡¯ll get what¡¯s coming to them just as he will. They were useful for a while, now they¡¯ve proven not to be.¡±


    Melissa wasn¡¯t sure how to react to that. It was obvious that she wasn¡¯t going to be able to talk Deicide out of her whole revenge thing. Not that she expected to be able to, but hey, getting confirmation that there really was some sort of personal history between her and Cu¨¦lebre was more than she expected. There had been rumors about it for a long time, and all the online stuff that she read. But she was pretty sure this was the first real confirmation.


    Finally, she replied, ¡°So, I guess that means you¡¯re not gonna just let it go and walk away?¡±


    The pages of the book flipped rapidly, as sounds emerged. They were all ¡®Heh¡¯ sounds, but seemed to be taken from the start of words. It was as though the woman was creating a slightly unsettling approximation of a laugh by simply taking the H sounds from the start of words like Home, Hamilton, Harris, or Hockey, without allowing the rest of those words to be said. It was¡­ weird. The whole thing was weird, really. Was she mute? Did she have to talk through her books? Did her being mute have something to do with why she hated Cu¨¦lebre so much? Did he do something that made her lose her voice?


    She couldn¡¯t spend too much time thinking about that before the off-putting laughter stopped. Deicide spoke flatly, that eerily omnipresent voice sounding even stranger now. ¡°No, I will definitely not be walking away. But you should, now. Your ride is here, I believe.¡± With that, the armored figure pointed downward and over a bit, to a spot where an unmarked sedan was idling. The driver got out and looked around as though wondering where Melissa was. Then he looked up. Melissa could see the way his eyes bulged at the sight of her and Deicide standing in midair, before he fumbled to get his phone out.


    ¡°You should go now,¡± Deicide informed her. ¡°Before your¡­ driver does something unwise.¡±


    The way she said it made Melissa blink that way very briefly. Did she know something about who Melissa¡¯s family really was? Her tone¡­ it was clear that she knew the man down there wasn¡¯t her father or another relative. Maybe she just thought he was an Uber driver or something? But that didn¡¯t really fit with the way she said it.


    Still, she couldn¡¯t exactly ask about it. Not without giving something away if the woman didn¡¯t actually know much. She might¡¯ve been fishing for information or something. Melissa really wasn¡¯t sure, and she didn¡¯t want to mess anything up by saying too much. Plus, Duke down there really did seem like he was freaking out. He was probably trying to call Melissa¡¯s dad. And if he thought she was in trouble¨Coh no, she couldn¡¯t let that happen. Dad already had enough things to deal with, and he¡¯d already been hesitant as it was to let her come out like this.


    With thoughts of her father losing his mind and sending an army of his people filling her head, Melissa quickly waved at the woman and let herself drop toward the ground. She caught herself right before landing next to Duke, blurting, ¡°It¡¯s okay! I¡¯m okay, I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s okay, okay?¡± She was saying okay too much, but the rushed words came out before she could think about that.


    Duke, a short, unassuming-looking man with graying brown hair and hazel eyes, stared at her with the phone to his ear. He hesitated slightly before speaking. ¡°Hold on a second, I think we¡¯re good.¡± Slowly he lowered the phone. ¡°You sure we¡¯re good? That¨C¡± He looked up, only to give a doubletake. ¡°Where¡¯d she go?¡±


    Sure enough, there was no sign of Deicide anywhere. The woman had vanished already. Melissa looked around, but the only other sign of life on the street was a teenaged Latina girl walking past at a quick pace while talking on a cell phone to someone who seemed to be her mother, telling her she was just going to the store to get a drink and that it was no big deal. She did give a double-take at the sight of the glass girl, waving excitedly with a called, ¡°Hey!¡± Then she quickly informed her mother that she had just seen one of the Minority and she should guess which one. Other than that, the street looked empty.


    ¡°I guess she had to go,¡± Melissa replied with a shrug after waving back to the passing girl. ¡°She probably didn¡¯t wanna deal with the police she thought you were calling.¡± She almost pointed out that she thought Deicide might¡¯ve known about her connection to La Casa with the weird way she had mentioned Duke as her driver. But she definitely didn¡¯t want to let her father know about that. He¡¯d freak out even more.


    ¡°Okay, well, let¡¯s get out of here before she starts another war and we end up in the middle of it.¡± With those muttered words, the man opened up the backseat of the sedan, gesturing for Melissa to get in.


    Melissa, in turn, had just started to climb into the car when something came flying up from behind to slam into her. It was more paper, this time hundreds of sheets shaped like a large hand. It knocked Melissa to the side, before catching hold of Duke to hold him tightly within that enormous fist.


    Landing hard enough on the pavement to make several pieces of herself shatter, Melissa stared as Deicide came into view once more. ¡°Wh-what¡¯re you doing?! Let him go!¡± She focused on bringing her swarm of glass shards back, wondering if she could actually do anything to hurt the Fell-Touched leader.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you want me to do that,¡± Deicide¡¯s assortment of flying books replied, before the woman walked right up to the struggling, cursing man. She reached out, making the paper fist open just enough for her to stick her hand inside his jacket. His struggling got worse, as did the cursing. But she managed to pull out a folded piece of paper, and some sort of remote control. ¡°Here.¡± With that, she held the paper out.


    Melissa stared at it uncertainly. On the paper was written, ¡®Do it tonight and the debt is forgiven. Stand back from the car when you hit it. See if that little bitch can rebuild herself out of this.¡¯


    Once Deicide was sure the girl had read it, she held the remote up for Melissa to see, then pressed the button. As she did, the entire inside of the car, the car she had been about to get into, was suddenly engulfed in flames. It wasn¡¯t a simple explosion. The car, centered on the backseat, had been transformed into a ridiculously intense blast furnace or¡­ or something. It was really hot, that was all Melissa knew. Hot enough that, within a few seconds, there wasn¡¯t much left of the car. The flames died out soon, leaving Deicide, Melissa, and Duke, who was still held tightly in that paper fist.


    ¡°So,¡± the armored woman started after a moment.


    ¡°I think you need a new ride. And a new driver.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 17

    Pack Trying To Figure Out Why Sierra Looks Like Cassidy


    The following takes place during the recent commissioned interlude focusing on Amber and Dani, after the first scene (at school) but before the second scene (in the costume shop).


    Benjamin Pittman was a creep. That much was patently obvious, and Dani didn¡¯t exactly need to do any deep thinking on the subject to come to that conclusion. He was clearly a power-hungry asshole who shouldn¡¯t have been put in charge of flipping burgers at a fast food joint, let alone determining the immortal future of the human race or whatever it was he called his biolem project. The man was just plain bad news, and anything terrible he did shouldn¡¯t have been surprising. It felt like assuming the worst was probably the best way to go whenever it came to the question of, ¡®why did Pittman do a thing?¡¯


    And yet, Dani was still confused on one particular point. Why Cassidy Evans? The secret biolem body that old Benny had had stored away in a secret room within a secret room, kept safe through all this time, given nutrients and power and allowed to grow for the years he had been locked up on Breakwater happened to be one that looked like Cassidy Evans? Why? What was the point of that? Sure, she came from a rich family, but why her specifically? Wouldn¡¯t it make more sense to replace one of her parents, or even her older brother? When he¡¯d made the body originally, it would have been Cassidy as a like¡­ what, eleven-year-old? What was that going to accomplish as far as Pittman¡¯s goals went?


    She had been thinking about that basically off and on ever since she first saw Sierra and realized what was happening. How she had avoided blurting Cassidy¡¯s name at that moment, she¡¯d probably never know. It had been a close thing, that was for sure. A couple times she¡¯d considered bringing it up, but that was impossible to do without explaining how she knew the Evans chick well enough to recognize her even through the hair change and all that. Maybe they wouldn¡¯t press her too much on it with the distraction of just who Sierra¡¯s body looked like, but still.


    No, she would need to find out for herself what Pittman¡¯s plan had been. And since he was¡­ out of reach, to say the least, that left finding out more about Cassidy herself. Maybe there was something about the girl, or access she might have through her family, or something, that would cause all this to start to make sense. But to find that, she was going to have to be a little underhanded.


    It was weird that she actually felt bad about that. Cassidy should have been, on paper, a typical spoiled rich girl who deserved to get a little comeuppance for once in her life. But having gotten to know the girl at least a little bit, she just¡­ wasn¡¯t like that. Dani mused on that fact while sitting in an old sedan she had borrowed from the fleet of vehicles available to La Casa Touched. Some were more eye-catching than others, but there were plenty that were meant to blend in anywhere. Those were what she preferred. Having an awesome car sounded good on paper, but it also got eyes on you. Cop eyes. And given she was already operating under a penalty for existing while black in the first place, speeding around in an eighty-thousand-dollar sports car probably wasn¡¯t a great idea.


    Yes, Cassidy wasn¡¯t what she would¡¯ve pictured when someone brought up ¡®teenage daughter of billionaires.¡¯ And she wasn¡¯t the only one. There were plenty of examples of students at that school who did fit the stereotype of worthless rich fuck no one would ever miss if they fell down a well without a Lassie to bring help, but not as many as she thought there would¡¯ve been. There were cool people there, and annoying people, and¨Cyeah, it was complicated.


    As she thought about all that, another car pulled up beside her, as Eits stepped out in his civilian clothes. ¡°Yo,¡± the boy started, holding out his phone, ¡°you ready?¡±


    Dani confirmed she was, and a moment later her own phone showed that it was receiving a file. She watched it downloading before asking, ¡°Did you get all of it?¡±


    ¡°I mean, you won¡¯t tell me exactly what you¡¯re looking for,¡± Ryder pointed out while leaning against the hood of her car so he could talk to her through the open window. ¡°So it¡¯s not like I can say if what you need is in there or not, you know?¡± His hand gestured vaguely. ¡°But yeah, I got all the student files from that school of yours, plus like three different middle schools that feed into it. That¡¯s report cards, parental notes, stuff the teachers scribbled in the margins of their grade books about them, any medical files that were added to the school records, police reports filed with the schools, all of it. Plus passwords for their school email accounts, locker combinations, and some other stuff. Now uhh, if you want me to help you narrow all that down¡­¡±


    Smiling just a bit at his fishing attempt, Dani shook her head. ¡°Thanks, if I change my mind I¡¯ll let you know. Right now this is just something I have to do myself.¡± After saying that, she gave him a look before turning to glance into the backseat, where all her lizards were crawling around. Including Mars Bar, the iguana, sunning himself up against the rear window. ¡°Believe me, I recognize the irony of me, the girl whose name literally means I don¡¯t work alone, saying that. And uhh, saying it to the guy who just got all this stuff so I wouldn¡¯t hit a dead end.¡± A grimace found its way to her face before she added, ¡°Thanks, seriously. I owe you. Both for doing this and for putting up with me not telling you why I needed it.¡±


    Ryder shrugged. ¡°No big deal. I mean, you already helped me with that other thing, so I¡¯d say we¡¯re even.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Dani replied while staring at him. ¡°And are you ever gonna tell me why you needed me to help you steal stuff to get around those Sherwood spying plants? You thinking about pulling off a job in their territory?¡±


    Ryder¡¯s immediate response was to ask, ¡°You thinking about pulling off a job inside your school?¡± When she didn¡¯t answer, he shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you more when I can.¡±


    ¡°Right back at you,¡± Dani agreed. ¡°Seriously, be careful, okay? Don¡¯t do anything too stupid.¡±


    ¡°And you take that right back at yourself,¡± the boy retorted before coughing. ¡°Or¡­ you know, something like that.¡± He sobered then. ¡°Let¡¯s both be careful. And promise to ask for help if we need it.


    ¡°Something tells me, between the two of us, we¡¯re gonna find all new ways to get in trouble.¡±


    ¡ª¡ª


    Once he left, Dani sat back in her seat with Riddles, the bearded dragon, sitting in her lap. She scratched under the grateful lizard¡¯s chin while flipping through the newly arrived files on her phone with the other hand. Of course she didn¡¯t care about the vast majority of it, but she couldn¡¯t have told Eits that she only wanted Cassidy Evans¡¯ file without giving him a lot more info than she wanted to at that moment. Not that she didn¡¯t trust the boy, but¡­ it just felt like keeping this to herself was a good idea.


    First, she tried to search for the name Pittman in any of the files connected to Cassidy. Maybe he had been one of her substitute teachers, or a guest speaker, or¡­ something. But no, his name didn¡¯t come up anywhere. Not just in the high school records, but the middle school ones as well. As far as she could tell, Cassidy Evans had never had any official, school-related connection with Benjamin Pittman.


    So, that was a dead end. She tried a few other words and names, including simply looking for the names of any teacher or substitute who worked with Cassidy at any point, then using her own phone to look up that person online to find out if they were real or if they had mysteriously disappeared around the same time Pittman went to prison. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t pan out either. It turned out that any person who taught at one of those schools, even on a temporary basis, was thoroughly vetted and had quite the impressive resume. If only Cassidy was poor. But then, that would sort of make this entire thing pointless, wouldn¡¯t it? Dani wasn¡¯t sure what the connection between Pittman and Cassidy was just yet, but she was pretty confident that it had to do with Cassidy¡¯s family being¡­ well, rich as fuck.


    Hold on, Cassidy¡¯s family. The obvious reason for Pittman wanting a Cassidybot was to infiltrate them, and possibly spy on them. Which still didn¡¯t explain why he wouldn¡¯t just replace one of the adults if he actually wanted to accomplish something, but maybe it was more about getting eyes (and hands) inside their house? But why? Dani was relatively certain Cassidy wouldn¡¯t be able to transfer any significant amount of money out of their accounts or anything, so robbing them (to any real degree) couldn¡¯t be the answer.


    Maybe she was looking at this the wrong way. Switching things up, Dani started looking through Paige¡¯s school files. She was the one created by Pittman. And there was that whole business with Paige and Cassidy arguing and fighting all the time. Given the way Paige was with everyone else, as far as Dani had heard, it was odd that she had constantly been at odds with Cassidy.


    Searching for all references to Cassidy in Paige¡¯s files turned up a lot of results. Mostly about how much they really didn¡¯t get along. Even though Dani was certain most of the incidents between them weren¡¯t reported, what there was in the file painted a pretty thorough picture of Paige hating Cassidy. Which was definitely Pittman¡¯s doing. Between knowing how Paige acted on her own, and knowing the man had built a robot replacement for Cassidy, that much was obvious.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    But it was something else that made Dani stop short with her scrolling. Another time that the name Cassidy came up in Paige¡¯s file. She had to read the thing a couple times. Buried deep in a clearly forgotten part of the girl¡¯s original middle school file was a photocopied report about a young blonde girl being found in an alley next to three dead bodies. There was a scribbled note from one doctor or another to the middle school counselor about how they should monitor Paige, the girl in question, for lingering psychological issues from being around dead bodies and apparently being in some sort of fugue state when they found her. But most importantly, the file noted that when she was finally able to talk, the young Paige had specifically asked them to ¡®find Cassidy¡¯ and that ¡®Cassidy will help me.¡¯


    It was the same Cassidy, obviously. But then¡­ why would Paige believe Cassidy would help her? Or that she could help her?


    Before she could think more about that, her phone beeped with a reminder. Reading it, Dani put the phone away and started the car once more. ¡°Sorry guys,¡± she informed the lizards, ¡°we¡¯ll have to play detective a bit more later.


    ¡°Time to go meet KD and find a decent costume for my date tonight.¡±


    *******


    What Were Jae And Damarko Doing When The ¡®Mugger¡¯ Tried To Ambush Them Before Being Stopped By Paintball?


    ¡°Are you absolutely sure you told your parents about being attacked and almost kidnapped when you were at Jae¡¯s house?¡± As Damarko (or the currently-solid version of him that called himself Armadillo) said those words, his gaze flicked back and forth between the two fourteen-year-old twins who sat together on an old wooden crate in the middle of this old junkyard. ¡°Cuz, you know, seems like they¡¯d want you to be¡­ oh, literally anywhere but back in Detroit if they knew about that.¡±


    ¡°He has a point,¡± Jae agreed from where she was standing a few feet away with her arms folded. ¡°Your mother is a police detective and your father is a crime reporter. They know how dangerous this sort of thing can be.¡±


    Lexi immediately shook her head, that long dark hair flailing in every direction. ¡°Okay, first of all, we were totally not almost kidnapped. Those guys didn¡¯t know what hit ¡®em.¡± As she spoke, the girl grabbed an abandoned bottle from the ground and tilted it back and forth as though mimicking someone walking. ¡°They were like, ¡®oh hello helpless children, we¡¯re gonna throw bags over your heads and take you in our vaaaaaaaaaayyee!¡¯¡± The exaggerated scream was accompanied by Lexi touching the bottle with a silver ¡®egg¡¯ from her other hand. The egg broke and the bottle turned translucent before flying off like it had been shot out of a cannon. The effect wore off just as it was over a dumpster, allowing the bottle to shatter against the wall and fall into the trash where it belonged.


    ¡°Only less murdery than that looked,¡± Zed, her blond, well-dressed and coiffed brother, noted. ¡°Anyway, Mom thinks she¡¯s handling the situation. She got a few of her cop buddies up here to look into it and they arrested the guys who were at the house. Even took a couple of those Spartans with them for Touched backup. And they found out those guys were hired by someone down in LA, which is what her and Dad are looking into right now. Apparently he¡¯s some dangerous guy, so they were pretty happy to send us up here for a few days when we said we wanted to visit Jae some more. Especially when her stepmom said it was okay for us to stay there.¡±


    ¡°Except we don¡¯t think the bad guy in LA is the only problem,¡± Lexi put in. ¡°We think he¡¯s got a partner here still. You know, a partner of the non-nameless thug variety. So we wanna find out who that guy is while Mom and Dad deal with the bigger threat down in California.¡±


    ¡°And school isn¡¯t an issue?¡± Armadillo couldn¡¯t believe he was asking that, but still.


    ¡°We¡¯re on a year-round schedule,¡± came the casual reply from Lexi. ¡°Sixty days on, twenty days off. We just started the twenty days off. Which means we have that long to find out what¡¯s really going on with those guys.¡±


    Exchanging a look with Jae before turning back to them, Armadillo nodded. ¡°Yeah, I gotta admit, when Jae said she needed help skipping school to go deal with some bad guys under the radar yesterday, we thought she was messing with us.¡± He gestured to the three other versions of himself, all intangible, who were standing up on the roofs or down at the end of the alley playing lookouts. ¡°And we seriously did not expect you guys to show up this morning playing backup.¡±


    ¡°Technically we showed up last night,¡± Zed pointed out with a shrug. ¡°We just didn¡¯t have time to talk about anything till now. And Jae said you guys found a list of names in that place after you dealt with the stragglers who were still hanging around.¡±


    Jae nodded once. ¡°At the address you sent, the one the man who rented one of the cars that was at my house used. The place was almost cleaned out, and the bad guys who ran away when we showed up took more stuff with them. But this was under one of the trash cans. Rabbit found it.¡± She looked down the alley toward the Damarko duplicate who stood there before turning back to them while holding up a piece of paper with about seventeen names, first and last, scrawled across it.


    ¡°None of them are the guys who were arrested for being at Jae¡¯s house trying to kidnap you,¡± Armadillo noted. ¡°We don¡¯t know if they¡¯re part of it or also targets. We¡¯ll have to find out by looking into them.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯ll help,¡± Lexi put in. ¡°As soon as we know for sure what they wanted, we¡¯ll call our parents and they can handle the heavy lifting. We just¡­ we just wanna prove we¡¯re not helpless, that we can take care of ourselves and¡­ and contribute.¡±


    Letting out a sigh, Armadillo gestured. ¡°Right, well, we¡¯re definitely calling in help as soon as we¡¯ve got something substantial. But for now, Jae and me, we¡¯ve gotta get to school. Some of us aren¡¯t on a break, and skipping two days in a row is just begging for attention I don¡¯t think we want. Just promise¨C¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t look into the names without you,¡± Zed assured him without needing to be told. ¡°We swear. We¡¯re just gonna get breakfast and look around a bit, then go back to Jae¡¯s house and wait for you. Her stepmom said she¡¯d take us out to lunch later. Nothing dangerous.¡±


    ¡°If you want to avoid danger,¡± Jae put in, ¡°don¡¯t let Kella drive you anywhere.


    ¡°There is no one more terrifying behind the wheel.¡±


    *****


    After leaving the Chambers twins for the time being, Jae and three of the Damarkos (Puma was staying with the twins to keep an eye on them) started making their way to school. They went to different ones, but the Damarkos wanted to keep talking to Jae about what was going on, so they stuck with her for the moment. To make the trip quicker, they took a shortcut through one of the many doors across the city that had been set up by the Ten Towers Tech-Touched Switchshift to allow them to have easy access into the Minority base from almost anywhere. In this case, they simply passed through the base briefly, chose an exit near Jae¡¯s school, and left again. On the way out, Armadillo and Rabbit stayed behind to take a different exit, one nearer to Damarko¡¯s school. After Colt dropped the girl off, they would switch which of them was solid in time for Armadillo or Rabbit (whichever lost their paper-rock-scissors match) to head in for class.


    They didn¡¯t talk about things inside the Clubhouse, considering they really had no idea who might be listening in. But as soon as they were in the alley across from Jae¡¯s school, she and Colt whispered intently about the situation. Neither of them liked the idea of not telling anyone about what was going on, but they did know that the moment the authorities found out the truth, they would contact Zed and Lexi¡¯s parents, who would immediately pull them back to Los Angeles. The twins just wanted a chance to prove they weren¡¯t helpless, that they could use their powers and join their own local Minority. And, Jae and Colt were both pretty sure, they wanted to prove to themselves that they could do it.


    Still, the second there was a real threat, they would absolutely be calling in help. Giving the twins the chance to prove themselves against a few random thugs was one thing, but as soon as any other Touched were involved, Jae and the Damarkos were going to call in the cavalry, no matter what.


    They had both just agreed to that as they heard movement behind them. Both spun that way, just in time to see some¡­ random guy with a gun. But before they could react, Paintball came flying in out of nowhere. A shot of red paint announced his presence, before the gun was yanked out of the man¡¯s hand while Paintball himself collided with the man.


    Colt made as though to take a step that way, but Jae quickly put a hand against his chest, keeping her voice low. ¡°He¡¯s got it, and he doesn¡¯t know about us.¡± Instead, she quickly looked around to see if there were any other attackers. The area looked clear. Just an ordinary mugger?


    No. No, she doubted that very much.


    By that point, Paintball had the man¡­ well, basically in hand. The guy was ranting and rambling something about monsters, which was even more confusing. Jae really wanted to ask him what he meant, but that felt like a bad idea right now.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the girl from the grocery store, right?¡± Paintball snapped his fingers and pointed at Jae before asking if they were okay.


    She and Colt looked at one another. Jae could see the unspoken question in the boy¡¯s gaze, whether they should say anything to let Paintball know the truth. She gave a very slight, almost imperceptible shake of her head. Paintball was cool, but he wasn¡¯t part of the team. Besides, they still had that ranting guy on the ground as an unwanted audience.


    So, Colt turned back that way and replied, ¡°Uh, thanks, Paintball. Lucky you were there.¡±


    Paintball shrugged and said something about being out for a run. Something about that felt weird, but Jae was more focused on trying to figure out who this guy was who had tried to attack them. Was he one of the people on the list of names they¡¯d found? Was there any way she could get his name out of him?


    Unfortunately, Paintball had just told them they should head out and leave him to talk to the cops. Hesitantly, Jae asked, ¡°Are you sure¡­ you don¡¯t need help?¡± Yeah, there was no way to do this without telling the boy more than she wanted to, and he insisted they didn¡¯t need to stay.


    So, they left, after Damarko got his shirt signed by Paintball. The two of them headed out, looking back repeatedly. Jae was trying to commit the ¡®mugger¡¯s¡¯ face to memory so she¡¯d recognize him if they saw his picture later.


    ¡°You think this is connected to the Chambers?¡± Colt asked just as they passed out of sight from where Paintball was. ¡°Pretty weird timing if it¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, weird timing,¡± Jae quietly murmured, frowning thoughtfully to herself. ¡°Was he waiting there for us? Was he after us? How would he know we were coming out of that door? There¡¯s nothing¨Chow would he know?¡±


    Colt shrugged. ¡°Dude, I dunno. But I¡¯ll tell you one thing. Okay, two things. First, we need to find out what that guy¡¯s name is.


    ¡°And second, the other Damarkos are totally jealous of my new Paintball shirt.¡±

 Interlude 24B - Dani And Amber

    A/N ¨C The following continues directly from Commissioned Interlude 12, where Amber and Dani learned one another¡¯s true identities.


    The second after Amber took in the revelation of just who Pack was under that mask, and before she had really processed it (considering that part would take quite a bit longer), voices just outside the stairwell made her shove the helmet she was wearing as part of her costume at this party back down. She wasn¡¯t sure why exactly, given no one else would necessarily connect her to Pack, unless¨C ¡°Get Holiday out of here!¡± She hissed. Now wasn¡¯t the time to focus on any of that. ¡°Downstairs, that way, go!¡±


    There was a brief second of hesitation, as Pack¨CDani¨CPa¨Cas she looked like she might object, considering the dangerous man still lying there nearby. But the approaching voices were getting louder, so she scrambled up and ran down the stairs. Holiday chased after her, and before the man could get up again, Amber was there. She had grabbed a steak knife from a table, and practically fell on top of him, putting the knife up to his neck. ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡±


    In that moment, as Dani and her lizard companion vanished further down the stairwell, the nearby door opened and two police officers, clearly assigned to keep an eye on the party, came in. They stopped short, one of them blurting a curse while grabbing for his radio, while the other demanded to know what Amber was doing. He also ordered her to drop the knife, starting to pull the pistol from its holster.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay!¡± Amber blurted. ¡°I mean, Therapists Appreciate Westerns.¡± As soon as she gave the code, the man¡¯s radio informed him that Amber was connected to the Star-Touched in some way. It wouldn¡¯t necessarily mean that she was Touched, just that she was trusted by them. The abbreviation being TAW wouldn¡¯t even prove she was That-A-Way, because every person given one of those codes was provided one using the abbreviation for a team or person they were most likely to be linked to. In other words, many girls who fit her general description of ¡®older teen female¡¯ and were given an emergency code like that used the TAW abbreviation for it.


    The second they had confirmation that she could be trusted, the two men relaxed marginally. ¡°What happened here?¡± one demanded.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Amber replied, pushing herself up a bit. She took the knife away from the man¡¯s throat now that he wouldn¡¯t have a chance to escape. ¡°We need to get everyone out of here, but first, you need to get people out on the nearby roofs and buildings. Look for a sniper, or¡­ or something.¡±


    ¡°A sniper?¡± The older cop repeated, staring at her in surprise.


    ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s a long story.¡± Amber looked down at the man on the floor. ¡°It¡¯s been one of those nights.


    ¡°And it¡¯s not over yet.¡±


    ******


    As it turned out, it really wasn¡¯t over. Amber spent the next two hours working with the police and the Ten Towers Touched who showed up to deal with the situation once they used a remote that turned out to be in the pocket of the man in the stairwell to disable the cell phone jammer. They found one guy on a nearby roof with a rifle, but were pretty sure he wasn¡¯t the ringleader. That particular person seemed to have gotten away for the moment.


    On the other hand, everyone was safe. That whole situation could¡¯ve been a hell of a lot worse. The bombs had apparently been implanted inside the walls using some sort of device to turn those walls intangible for a brief time, at some point before guests started arriving. The guy she and Dani had caught in the coat and phone room had been making the rounds to ensure they were all still primed and ready before detonation, considering the whole ¡®embedded inside the wall¡¯ thing was kind of sketchy technology. And if those things had actually detonated¡­ Amber didn¡¯t even want to think about it.


    What she did want to think about, on the other hand, was¡­ Dani. The other girl had vanished from the party completely as far as Amber could tell. Which was okay, because she really didn¡¯t want her to end up being picked up by some cop who couldn¡¯t look the other way. Amber had told them that she didn¡¯t know who was behind the mask, just that Pack had shown up, probably to steal something, but changed her mind when she found out about the danger everyone was in and ended up helping. That should¡¯ve been enough to give the girl a pass for this situation, but there was always the chance that someone might be a dick.


    And¡­ and wow. She really, truly did not want Dani to be arrested. Yes, she was a thief. She had stolen things, but¡­ fuck. It was complicated. Or maybe she just wanted it to be? Dani broke the law, she was actively a member of a Fell-Touched gang, damn it. Was Amber¡¯s reluctance to see her as a bad person because of some actual gray area, or her own personal feelings for the girl, or because of the whole Ministry situation?


    Most likely, all of the above. But the main question was, did that actually matter? Was it enough to excuse not saying anything to anyone about Dani being Pack? For fuck¡¯s sake, she had just helped save a whole hotel full of people. And before that, the very first time they¡¯d worked together, she¡¯d helped save most of a children¡¯s hospital. Those bits by themselves should earn her some leeway, right?


    Everything had already been so confusing. Now this? The revelation that Dani from school and Pack from¡­ from everything that wasn¡¯t school were actually the same person left Amber feeling like she was floundering out in the ocean. Her legs were kicking, she was treading water, but she could sink at any moment. She needed something to hold onto, something to be certain of, and she just didn¡¯t know what that could be. Every thought she had could have been wrong, every time she thought she¡¯d come to a decision, she dismissed it. She couldn¡¯t trust her own feelings or thoughts. She couldn¡¯t trust¡­ anything.


    ¡°Well, that was an event, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    The voice came from behind Amber, as she stood on the roof of an old tire shop several blocks away from the hotel where the party had been. That place was still being swarmed by the authorities, but she¡¯d eventually managed to excuse herself, claiming she was going to go home and rest. Instead, she had come here, sending a text to Dani¡¯s phone about where she was going to be.


    And now, here was Dani herself, just stepping off Scatters the lizard-reindeer. She was in her actual costume rather than the one she¡¯d worn to the party. Amber, meanwhile, had simply changed into street clothes.


    For a few long seconds, the two of them stood there staring at one another. It was clear that neither of them knew exactly what to say to the other. A couple of times, one of them made a noise as though to speak, but no actual words came out. There was so much going through their minds that was impossible to sort through, even now, hours after the fact. Both of them had thought that they were ready for this, but being here in the moment was different than thinking about or planning for it. This was¡­ a lot.


    Finally, Dani reached up to push her hood down and pulled the mask off. She blinked that way a couple times before pushing the mask into her pocket. Still, she said nothing, simply looking at Amber with an expression that was more uncertain than any the other girl had seen on her face before. Her voice when she had first arrived had been casual, but it was the faux sort of casual. It was rehearsed, and now everything else she had planned to say had completely vanished, from the moment their eyes met.


    It was Amber who eventually broke the silence. ¡°An event? Do you mean the part where me, a bunch of other people, and a girl I¡­ liked sort of almost got blown up? Or the part where another girl I liked showed up and helped me stop the bomb even though she¡¯s a criminal?


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Or maybe you mean the part where both those girls turned out to be the same person.¡±


    Swallowing, Dani kicked her toe against the building roof before offering a weak shrug. ¡°Yeah, take that whole thing, flip it around a little bit, and that¡¯s basically where I¡¯m at right now. You know, the whole, one girl you like, another girl you like, and poof they¡¯re the same person. Which, in most cases, you¡¯d think would simplify the whole situation, but not here.¡± She snorted and leaned back to stare up at the sky with a muttered, ¡°I guess we¡¯re just special that way.¡±


    ¡°Special,¡± Amber echoed, following the other girl¡¯s lead in staring upwards. The two stood there in silence for a moment before she spoke again. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re special. So special that I¡¯m supposed to arrest you. I mean, you¡¯re a criminal. You¡¯ve helped a lot with¨Cwith all that other stuff, but you still rob places, you steal things. You help Blackjack and all your other teammates. And you¡¯re not gonna stop doing that.¡±


    Another couple seconds of silence passed before Dani lowered her gaze from the sky to look at Amber directly. Her voice was quiet. ¡°No, I¡¯m not. I don¡¯t mind helping out when it matters. You know, stopping the real bad stuff from happening. But I¡¯m no hero. I¡¯m a criminal. I¡¯m a thief.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m stuck trying to figure out if that even matters anymore,¡± Amber replied before taking a few steps over to the raised portion of the wall around the edge of the roof. Slumping down to perch on that, she added, ¡°Sure seems like it doesn¡¯t, considering I¡¯m basically already working for criminals. The Ministry decides whether to let crime happen, and how much of it we¡¯re going to be allowed to stop. Maybe not every single thing, but enough of it. The big things. It¡¯s all a big game or something. And if I play the game the way I¡¯m supposed to, by the rules, I have to turn you in. Which is something I should want to do.¡±


    Dani waited for a few seconds, then moved over to sit down as well, several feet away. ¡°Because I¡¯m a thief and you¡¯re a hero. I steal from people and you protect them. And now you know who I really am, so you could definitely get me arrested. It wouldn¡¯t take that much, not with the record you¡¯ve got. They¡¯d take your word for it, enough to take me in and do a search of everything I own and everywhere I¡¯ve been.¡±


    A derisive snort escaped Amber, as she turned a bit to look out over the parking lot below them. ¡°You know why it¡¯s so hard for me to see ¡®little crimes¡¯ as not that big of a deal? I mean, yeah, you¡¯re not actively murdering people or kidnapping children for ransom or whatever. But do you know why it¡¯s been¡­ difficult for me to agree with your, ¡®not that bad¡¯ sort of criminal thing?¡±


    ¡°Because of your dad,¡± Dani immediately confirmed. ¡°He was hit by a joyrider, someone who stole that guy¡¯s car and rode around in it. The cops told you they were pretty sure it was just an accident. Whoever did it wasn¡¯t targeting your father, or anybody. They stole the car to screw around in and your dad just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.¡±


    Amber¡¯s eyes closed briefly before she nodded, turning slightly to meet the other girl¡¯s gaze once more. ¡°When you say you don¡¯t hurt people, I always hear a ¡®yet¡¯ in the back of my head. You don¡¯t want to, you don¡¯t mean to, you don¡¯t¡­ you aren¡¯t setting out to kill anyone. But neither was the person who hit my dad. Whoever they were, they were just out stealing a car to have fun, and they still killed someone, a completely innocent person.¡±


    Once again, silence reigned between the two for a few long seconds. Each was lost in their own thoughts, sitting several feet apart while considering the truth of that. Finally, Dani shifted around, sitting on the edge of the roof with her feet dangling off. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she agreed. ¡°Just because I¡¯m not planning on hurting people like that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s impossible. But there is a difference between me and whoever hit your dad. If it was me, I¡¯d fess up to it. Killing an innocent person like that, I¡­¡± She trailed off, shoulders lumping a bit before her voice softened. ¡°I couldn¡¯t live with myself. I wouldn¡¯t be able to let that go and run away from it. I know it¡¯s easy to say that, but¨C¡±


    ¡°I believe you,¡± Amber interrupted before Dani could push on. ¡°I know you, Dani. I mean, maybe I didn¡¯t know everything. I didn¡¯t know you were Pack. But I know Dani, and I know Pack. And now I know you¡¯re the same person. But the most important thing is, I know you wouldn¡¯t be okay with killing someone like that. You¡¯re not a monster. If you accidentally killed somebody, you would turn yourself in, because you wouldn¡¯t be able to ignore it. You¡¯re a thief, but you have a conscience. And that¡¯s part of the problem.¡±


    Her words made Dani blink in confusion. ¡°Me having a conscience is a problem?¡±


    ¡°No, I mean yes, I mean¨C¡± Stopping herself, Amber sighed while running both hands back through her hair so she could clutch the back of her neck with interlaced fingers. ¡°If you accidentally kill someone, you¡¯ll turn yourself in, and I won¡¯t be able to¡­ I won¡¯t be able to help you. You¡¯ll be gone, and I don¡¯t want¨CI don¡¯t want you to be gone.¡±


    ¡°And that makes you feel even more guilty,¡± Dani guessed.


    ¡°It does!¡± Amber blurted with a quick, emphatic nod. ¡°It¡¯s stupid, I mean, it¡¯s just¡­ every time I think about turning you in, or doing anything I¡¯m supposed to do, I feel sick in my stomach. They¡¯d take you away, they¡¯d lock you up. I don¡¯t want that. I don¡¯t want you to accidentally kill anyone, and I don¡¯t want to turn you in, and I don¡¯t want you to¨Cdamn it. I don¡¯t want you to go away. And on top of all those feelings, I still know that this whole thing doesn¡¯t really matter. We can¡¯t stop all the crime in the city, the Ministry won¡¯t let that happen. And right now the one specific criminal I could stop from doing more crime is a girl I like!¡±


    After those last stammered words, Amber stopped talking. She sat there, a few feet away from Dani, while both of them looked out at the cars below. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft enough that it was almost inaudible. ¡°I kind of expected you to make a joke about this whole thing by now.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Dani replied flatly. ¡°Not right now. Not about this.¡± She folded her arms against her stomach. ¡°It makes me feel sick too, you know. Thinking about you not talking to me anymore, or me having to go away. Not just to prison, but¡­ but just not spending time around you anymore. I thought about what would happen if ¡®Dani¡¯ had to disappear. If I told Blackjack you knew my identity, he¡¯d pull me out of that school so fast both our heads would spin. He¡¯d get me a new civilian identity. There¡¯s millions of people in this city, it wouldn¡¯t be that hard to disappear. All I¡¯d have to do is say the word and I¡¯d be safe, as a completely new person. But¡­¡±


    ¡°But you wouldn¡¯t go to our school anymore,¡± Amber finished for her.


    Dani took in a long breath before letting it out slowly. ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t go to your school anymore. I wouldn¡¯t be able to hang out with you. And that would suck.¡± She smiled very ruefully, glancing sidelong toward the other girl. ¡°This shit is complicated, you know?¡±


    Amber, for her part, made a noise deep in her throat. ¡°Tell me about it. I wish there was a simple answer, but I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s not. It¡¯s just messy. It seems like no matter what I do¨Cno matter what we do, we¡¯ll be messing something up. Or a lot of things.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it does.¡± Dani kicked her heels against the side of the building a few times, lost in her own mind. Eventually, she added, ¡°Maybe we should just put a pin in it and¡­ call a truce for now. We can figure out what to do later. This was a lot, you know?¡±


    Amber shifted to look at her. ¡°You mean agree not to do anything drastic either way and make the bigger decision later? I¡­ guess we could do that. Kick the can down the road?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Dani agreed. She hesitated again, then pushed herself up and swung her legs back around to stand on the roof once more. ¡°I should probably let you get back before somebody misses you or wonders where you went or whatever.¡±


    Standing up as well, Amber nodded once. ¡°Sure, yeah. That¡¯s probably best. I¡¯ll uh, I¡¯ll head out then. I won¡¯t say anything about¨Cyou know. I won¡¯t tell anyone. We can talk about the rest of it later.¡±


    The two stared at one another for another moment, before turning away by silent agreement. Dani moved over to where Scatters was patiently waiting, while Amber headed for the other side of the roof to teleport away.


    ¡°Could¡¯ve gone worse, huh?¡± Dani whispered to her lizard-reindeer, rubbing her head a bit before scratching under her chin. ¡°We should take off. I¡¯ll get all you guys some treats, and¨C¡± Her gaze caught sight of Scatters looking past her, and she turned reflexively.


    Amber¡¯s hands caught her shoulders, pulling her forward as she leaned in. Their lips met in a desperate, hungry kiss, before those same hands slipped off the other girl¡¯s shoulders so her arms could wrap around Dani¡¯s back tightly. And for several long, precious seconds, the two were locked together like that. The strength in their legs left them both simultaneously, and they slumped down together, still kissing while they fell to their knees.


    Finally, they parted, though only by a few centimeters. Their lips were still almost touching, as both girls opened their eyes to stare at one another. Dani¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ what are you¡­ Why?¡±


    ¡°Because fuck it,¡± Amber replied simply. ¡°I thought it was hard, but it¡¯s not. I know what I want right now. It¡¯s you. Everything else, we can figure it out later. Right now, right here, I choose you.¡± Her voice cracked slightly through those last words. ¡°You got a problem with that?¡±


    When Dani¡¯s answer came, it wasn¡¯t in words. And yet the meaning was clear.


    She did not have a problem with that.

 Exhibition 25-01

    ¡°And then we got to smash it all to bits with hammers!¡± Wren enthusiastically informed me the next morning. ¡°It was so fun. I got to break the glass windows, but Uncle Fred said I had to wear gloves and long pants and stuff, but it was still fun! We smashed everything and then drove it out in this U-Haul truck that Uncle Fred rented, and we dumped all the pieces out on the lake!¡±


    It was just a little bit before lunchtime on Saturday, May 16th. Which meant I didn¡¯t have to go to school. I did need to go see Inessa¡¯s show that night, but for now, I was free. Well, Cassidy was free. Paintball had plenty to do. Starting with catching up with how everything had gone for the others the night before. I had just shown up at the shop a few minutes earlier, so Wren was excitedly telling me everything in between bites of a ham and cheese sandwich and chips. Her hand was waving around wildly, apparently to illustrate the way she had swung that hammer.


    ¡°Always fun to break things,¡± I agreed, boosting myself up with my hands to perch on the glass counter as I watched the girl with amusement. ¡°Sorry I missed it. But you think it was convincing?¡± The important part was to make enough people who saw the pictures believe that it was the wreckage of a boat out on the ocean. I knew we wouldn¡¯t fool everyone, and of course the people in charge of the island would know it was complete bullshit. But we just needed public opinion to believe that the wrecked boat was how Irelyn had gotten to the island.


    ¡°Uncle Fred!¡± Wren called, waving that half-eaten sandwich. ¡°Can you show him¨Cerr, sorry, her the pictures?!¡±


    ¡°Him is fine,¡± I reminded her. ¡°Let¡¯s not get in the habit of calling me her too much. It¡¯ll just confuse everything and risk making a mistake in public. I¨C¡± Hesitating as a weird feeling passed through me at the thought of telling someone it was okay to refer to me as a boy, I shook that off. ¡°Whatever, it¡¯s cool.¡± Talking about that made me think about the fact that Eits knew my secret, my full secret, now. And I knew his. Which was a whole complicated situation that I really couldn¡¯t think about too much right now. Not when I really had to focus.


    Fred, who had already finished eating his own lunch/breakfast, stepped over and handed me a digital camera. ¡°The girls, Paige and Sierra, they said they could clean them up and do the editing to put an island in the pictures. This is just for the wreckage part.¡±


    Looking through the images on the screen, I nodded slowly. They really had done a number on what had apparently been a pretty impressive boat at one point. I could tell that even from the shape it was in. It was barely recognizable as a boat at this point. Most of the thing was in a dozen or more different pieces, floating on water. They had taken the pictures with a drone of some sort, first from high enough up to make it clear that they weren¡¯t being taken from another boat, and then up close enough to make out details. The base shape of the boat was still there, with the name visible in a couple of the pictures. Orcastra. Yeah, spelled like that. Totally hilarious.


    ¡°Well you guys sure put that thing through its paces. How did Paige feel about smashing it apart?¡± Something told me she wouldn¡¯t be too bothered about it, considering the reason we were doing all this to begin with and where the money for the boat had come from. But on the other hand, maybe she had good memories involved with it.


    ¡°She did most of the damage,¡± Fred informed me. ¡°Her and Sierra both, really. They really went to town on the thing. I think they were working through some stuff.¡±


    Yeah, that made sense. I had a feeling they had probably been picturing Pittman¡¯s face whenever they swung those hammers or whatever they used. I knew I would¡¯ve.


    ¡°Right, so they¡¯re probably busy with that over at the Banners house,¡± I murmured thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯re good at that sort of thing, but Paige is gonna want these to be perfect before we show them to anyone. I just¡­ I wish we could talk to Irelyn or one of the others ourselves and make sure they¡¯re okay. And uhh, you know, let them know someone¡¯s working on getting them out of there.¡± I couldn¡¯t even imagine how bad it must¡¯ve been to be trapped there, realize the people in charge had to know you were there, and that they weren¡¯t going to actually help.


    Wilting a little, Wren sank back on her seat and gave a quick nod. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¨CI really wanna try to talk to them too, but I can¡¯t figure out¨C¡±


    ¡°Oh, oh no, no, it wasn¡¯t¨Cit¡¯s okay.¡± Scooting off the counter before moving that way, I sat next to the girl on another folding chair and reached out to take her hand. ¡°I wasn¡¯t saying you should¡¯ve done something. You¡¯ve done enough, Wren. You¡¯ve done more than¨Cmore than anyone could¡¯ve expected. You¡¯re amazing, really. It¡¯s not your fault Pittman got Irelyn¡¯s phone.¡±


    She nodded slowly, giving me a hesitant smile before it quickly blossomed into a more genuine one. ¡°Oh! I have something for you!¡± While saying that, she hopped off the chair, shoving the last quarter of her sandwich into her mouth before darting off toward the elevator. She said something about being right back, but it was hard to make out through her full mouth.


    Glancing toward Fred, I raised an eyebrow. Which just reminded me again about the fact that I was able to have my mask and helmet off in here so he could see my eyebrow. He, in turn, offered me a confused shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me, the kid builds what she wants. I didn¡¯t think she even had time to make anything else, considering how busy she¡¯s been.¡±


    Both of us sat there, waiting for a minute until Wren came back from the second floor. She used the stairs that time, bounding down them several at a time before literally using her wing-pack to fly off the last one. There was something in one of her hands, but I couldn¡¯t make it out yet. ¡°I made it when I was fixing the teleporting thingie for Murphy and Roald!¡±


    With that, she landed in front of me, grinning widely while holding up what looked like a small leather bag with a drawstring. It was like one of those bags to hold a marble or dice collection. ¡°Open it, look inside!¡± The kid was practically vibrating with excitement. ¡°I fixed the last parts last night after I helped beat up the boat! Look, look, look! Er, I mean, please look.¡±


    Well, okay then. Taking the bag, I pulled the drawstrings apart and peeked inside. Then I blinked. ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t know how to tell you this, Wren, but the bag¡¯s empty.¡± I held it out for her to see too.


    Rather than seeming distressed or confused by that, the girl giggled. ¡°Pull it shut again and then push the little button thing on the end of the string for three seconds.¡± She was definitely vibrating with excitement, her eyes eagerly snapping back and forth between the bag and me.


    As instructed, I pulled the drawstrings to shut the bag. Then I inspected them more closely. Sure enough, what I had thought was a simple bead on the end of one of the strings had a tiny button on it. I pressed that in and held it. ¡°What¡¯s supposed t¨Coof!¡±


    That last part was because the bag was suddenly larger, and heavier. Not dramatically heavier, but still. It went from being completely empty and maybe five by seven inches, to being a couple feet and clearly not empty.


    ¡°It stretches!¡± the kid helpfully informed me. ¡°I uhh, I didn¡¯t make that, I bought some material from somebody else for it. But the other part is me. The stuff is inside the fabric, I sewed it in! You can probably find it if you pull it apart. Uhh, don¡¯t pull it apart, please.¡± She added the last bit quickly. ¡°Then I¡¯d have to fix it.¡±


    While she was saying all that, I squinted at the larger bag and pulled it open. Inside was¡­ a pair of pants, a shirt, two old mismatched shoes, and a baseball cap. ¡°Hold on, is this¨C¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Clearly unable to hold it in anymore, Wren clapped happily. ¡°It¡¯s a teleport bag! I made the basic parts when I was testing the teleport system on the suits for Murphy and Roald. It¡¯s easier to teleport stuff that isn¡¯t alive, especially if one of the locations is always the same!¡± Her hands waved wildly as she almost tripped over her own words in her rush to explain. ¡°There¡¯s two bags, they¡¯re connected. When you hold the button like that, it swaps contents. See, you can leave your costume in one bag so you don¡¯t have to carry it around with you. Take the empty bag in your pocket. When you need your costume, you hold the button, and poof! Your costume shows up. You can change, then put your normal clothes in the bag and hold the button again, and they¡¯ll show up in the other bag until you¡¯re ready to change back into them!¡±


    Okay¡­ okay, wow. My eyes widened a bit as I took all that in, staring at the random clothes in the bag before looking back to Wren. She was staring at me so excitedly, so proudly, that I couldn¡¯t help but giggle as I grinned right back at her. ¡°Dude, that¡¯s awesome. That would¡¯ve been so useful when¡­ well, a few times. Now I don¡¯t have to try to finagle a way to go home to get it, or carry it around in my backpack.¡± And boy was that a load off my mind. The fear I¡¯d felt whenever I carried the costume with me, that someone would look in my bag, never really went away. But if I had this thing and anyone looked at it, they wouldn¡¯t think anything about it. This was amazing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll make some for the others too,¡± Wren quickly put in. ¡°That was just the first one, and I thought you should have it. Cuz, you know¡­¡± She squirmed a bit on her feet. ¡°It¡¯d be really bad if your family found your costume. Worse than it would be for the others.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure Peyton would survive her mom finding out what she does,¡± I pointed out mildly. ¡°But she kind of manifests her own costume with her powers anyway.¡±


    I went into the bathroom to change from my costume, which I was still wearing aside from the mask and helmet, into my street clothes. Then Wren showed me where the other bag was, up in a safe area in her lab. We put the costume inside that one, and I spent a couple minutes practicing with moving it back and forth between the two bags. Well, I guess it wasn¡¯t really practice after the first time. It was more playing with it. But hey, it was really cool.


    Tucking the currently-empty bag into the pocket of my jeans (seriously, the thing could just fold up very small when it didn¡¯t have anything inside), I gave the kid a thumbs up. ¡°Seriously dude, that¡¯s amazing. I can¡¯t even¨Cthanks.¡±


    Now Wren looked self-conscious, shaking her head. ¡°I-it¡¯s no big deal. I just wanna help and that was¨Cit was sort of extra. Like I said, I was mostly just working on making the suits teleport with people inside them and I had to practice with things that weren¡¯t alive. I umm, I thought it¡¯d be useful for this sort of thing.¡±


    ¡°It definitely is,¡± I confirmed with a smile as I patted my pocket. ¡°But I guess I should head out for now. Paige just texted to say they¡¯re gonna be at that for the rest of the day before they¡¯ll be satisfied that it¡¯ll pass inspection.


    ¡°And apparently That-A-Way wants to tell me something pretty important.¡±


    ******


    ¡°Somebody tried to kill Fragile.¡±


    Absorbing the ¡®pretty important¡¯ thing Amber had wanted to tell me as the two of us sat in the back of a diner, far from anyone who could overhear, I stared at the other girl. ¡°I¨Cwhat?¡± I couldn¡¯t have heard her right. Unless¨Cmy eyes widened. ¡°One of the Scion¨C¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not sure,¡± she admitted in a quiet voice. There were dark circles under her eyes. ¡°All we do know is that someone convinced the guy who was hired to drive her home to plant some sort of device in the car that¡­. uhh, let¡¯s just say it got really, really hot in there. Industrial grade furnace-level hot.¡±


    That made me gape some more, barely comprehending what she was saying. ¡°You mean someone was trying to melt her?¡± The shock of that made me physically reel backward a bit.


    Amber grimaced, glancing away. ¡°We don¡¯t know if it would¡¯ve worked, but yeah. They tried. And something tells me it wasn¡¯t just idle curiosity about her defenses.¡±


    ¡°They were literally trying to kill her,¡± I managed. ¡°What¨Cthat has to be Pencil and Cup, or one of their auditions. No way would the Ministry okay something like that. Never.¡± I flat out refused to believe that my parents would give the go-ahead for Fragile to potentially be burned to death in a furnace. That absolutely had to be someone operating without their permission, and the Scions were the only ones I could think of like that. Besides, it just sounded like their sort of thing.


    ¡°That¡¯s definitely what we¡¯re thinking,¡± Amber confirmed with a heavy sigh. For a moment, she started to say something else, then seemed to catch herself. Instead, she shook her head and muttered a curse. ¡°There was another attempted attack, this one on Carousel and Syndicate. We weren¡¯t sure if it was intentional or not, but considering this attack¡­¡±


    ¡°Whoever¡¯s behind this, the Scions or wannabe Scions, they¡¯re targeting the Minority.¡± Finishing that for her, I dropped my gaze to stare at the half-eaten food on my plate. ¡°That¡¯s bad.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± the other girl muttered before adding, ¡°But I¡¯m also supposed to tell you to be careful. Well, you and everyone on your team. They don¡¯t know if this is someone targeting the Minority or someone targeting juvenile Touched. Either way, just¡­ watch out, okay?¡±


    My head bobbed before something else occurred to me. ¡°I¡¯ll add it to the list of things I¡¯m paranoid about. But wait, you said they tried to kill Fragile in an impromptu car furnace. How¡¯d she get out of it, blind luck?¡±


    Coughing, Amber shook her head. She couldn¡¯t respond yet, however, as the waitress came by to ask if we needed anything and to refill our drinks. Only once the lady was gone and we were sufficiently alone did Amber meet my gaze and whisper, ¡°Deicide saved her.¡±


    Okay, that made me do a double-take, shifting in my seat before hissing, ¡°Did you just say¨C¡±


    ¡°Deicide, yeah,¡± Amber confirmed. ¡°Apparently they were like¡­ talking or something before that. Somehow Deicide figured out what was going on and stopped Fragile from getting in the car.¡±


    ¡°Uh, does that sound suspicious or am I just paranoid?¡± I pointed out a bit weakly.


    Amber¡¯s head shook. ¡°No, you¡¯re right, it probably would be suspicious. But we know Deicide is on the good side of the Ministry. She plays by the rules. No way would she risk that by pretending to put Fragile in mortal danger. For what purpose? What would be the point?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted. ¡°But she has to be pretty pissed off right now about what happened with her own people betraying her right when they were about to beat Cu¨¦lebre. She really seems to have it out for that guy. Maybe that pushed her over the edge?¡±


    Amber considered that before shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. What does putting Fragile in danger and then saving her get her, really? Maybe the Ministry would forgive her for overstepping a little if she goes after her traitors, but¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯d already do that, and they¡¯ve okayed her war against Oscuro.¡±


    ¡°Fair,¡± I agreed thoughtfully. ¡°Maybe I am just a little too paranoid. But how did she figure out Fragile was in danger?¡±


    ¡°Apparently the guy had a note in his pocket about it,¡± Amber informed me. ¡°Seems like Deicide¡­ read it before she could see it?¡±


    Absorbing that, I made a face. ¡°That would fit with her making books talk, but if that means she can read things around her from a distance, I¡­ we probably shouldn¡¯t keep anything written down when we¡¯re around her.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on being around her at all if I can help it,¡± Amber pointed out. ¡°But yeah. That could be dangerous.¡±


    Great, another thing for me to worry about. With a sigh, I poked at my food. ¡°Okay so she just talked to Fragile for some reason, noticed the attempted attack, and saved her. That still leaves the problem of who started targeting the Minority and knows enough about them to do something like that. If it¡¯s one of the Scion wannabes, does that mean they¡¯re someone with connections into the Minority base? Like one of the cops or security people, or an officer worker, or¨C¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a few options, yeah,¡± Amber muttered, looking out the nearby window with a frown. ¡°They¡¯re working on figuring that out. And I¡¯m pretty sure your parents are throwing their own stuff at it. This can¡¯t be good for their business.¡±


    We talked a bit more about that, though she seemed a little distracted, and I was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t just the Scions/Deicide/Fragile thing. Finally, I asked, ¡°Are you okay? I mean, besides all this stuff.¡±


    Looking up from her phone, Amber flushed guiltily before nodding. ¡°No, yeah, no, I¡¯m good. I¡¯m fine. I just¨CI uhh, it was a long night. Long day. Long everything. I¡­¡± She shifted in her seat. ¡°It feels like I¡¯m keeping a lot of secrets lately.¡±


    Wincing, I gestured. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I mean, you¡¯ve gotta keep the whole Ministry thing away from the rest of your team. That¡¯s gotta be hard.¡± And speaking of secrets, I was keeping the one about who Ryder was from her and everyone else.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡­¡± Amber looked away, swallowing visibly before turning back to me. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something else. You¡¯re going to that Inessa show tonight at the park, right?¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Yup. I promised Izzy I¡¯d take her with. Should be pretty cool, as long as we don¡¯t get stuck near Arleigh again.


    ¡°And hey, speaking of cool, wait til I show you the bag Wren gave me¡­¡±

 Exhibition 25-02

    Thankfully, the curfew had been relaxed somewhat. Now we were able to stay out until nine pm without getting in trouble. I wanted to think that that was because the streets were safer now, but honestly it was probably the product of a lot of people and businesses complaining about losing money by having to shut down so early. There was no way Deicide was going to let this gang war end like that, and between that and this whole Scions business, I had absolutely no doubt that things would get a whole lot worse before they got better. But for now, there was nothing any of us could do about it. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like we didn¡¯t have our own situations to deal with.


    And speaking of situations to deal with, Paige and Sierra weren¡¯t done editing those pictures to their satisfaction by the time the evening rolled around. So, after sending them a text to let me know if they wanted to meet up later to look at their work (not that I would¡¯ve been able to contribute anything more than an encouraging thumbs up), I went to the park with Izzy. The two of us left without letting my parents know where we were going, mostly because none of them, Simon included, had been home at all the whole day. They were busy, apparently. Something told me it had to do with the attempted attacks on Fragile as well as Carousel and Syndicate. Which, good, the Ministry ought to do something about that. Or maybe it had something to do with whoever had planted those bombs at the party Amber went to. She¡¯d told me about that too, though it felt like she had been leaving something out.


    Either way, we were here now. I had my board with me, because there was no way I would be able to resist the urge to get some of my own skating in either before or after watching the master. And I definitely wasn¡¯t alone with that. As Izzy and I walked through the park toward the main attraction, I could see at least half the onlookers had boards of their own.


    There was also a stand near the road selling both full boards as well as separate wheels, trucks (the metal t-shaped piece that goes on the bottom to keep the wheels attached), and decks. Most were the usual tourist trap garbage marked up to get suckers. But there were a few good ones in there. We stopped and I looked over the selection to help Izzy find a board that would work for her to start out. I had her take a couple options out to roll along the pavement to see which one felt the most natural. Once she settled on something, I picked up the board to look at it. The deck was pretty cool. The centerpiece was a dark-haired angel, with one of her intricately-detailed feathery wings spread out over the bottom half of the board, while she held a gleaming sword out over the top half.


    Izzy tried to pay for it, but I stopped her. It was my idea for her to try this out, so I gave the guy a couple hundred for the board, plus another hundred for the protective gear, and we started to walk away. Just as we were turning, however, I heard a guy nearby snort, ¡°Stupid chicks, man.¡±


    Looking that way, I saw a guy about an inch or two under six feet, with a thin blond goatee and long hair. He looked to be maybe two years older than me, and was wearing a black tank top with dark baggy shorts. A couple other guys were around him.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, unable to stop myself.


    Looking me up and down, the guy gave a soft, derisive laugh before shaking his head. ¡°Nothing. You go have fun pretending you know anything about real skating. I¡¯m sure your TikTok fans think you¡¯re totally cool.¡±


    I blinked a couple times. ¡°Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?¡±


    The guy had started to turn back to say something to his friends, and now seemed annoyed that I had asked any follow-up questions. He gave me a dirty look. ¡°Look, all you babes are the same. You see Inessa getting famous cuz she¡¯s like the one fucking chick in a million who knows which side of the skateboard goes on the ground, and you want in on it. You roll around on a board for a few minutes, do some slick editing to make it look like you¡¯re not total ass, and put it online so all the simps out there can drool all over it and throw donations at you for doing jack squat.¡±


    Absorbing that for a moment, I retorted, ¡°Well, when it comes to things that are total ass you are probably the expert.¡±


    ¡°Oh fuck off, kid,¡± he shot back. ¡°What¡¯re you, like thirteen? Mommy bought you a skateboard instead of an Easy Bake Oven and now you think you¡¯re cool? Every little bit of space we guys have, girls think they have to barge in and take over. How¡¯d you like it if we started barging into your spaces?¡±


    The words blurted out of me before I even thought about it. ¡°If our spaces includes the shower, I think everyone stuck in your immediate vicinity would be A-Okay with you spending some time there.¡±


    Yeah, the guy didn¡¯t like that. He snapped, ¡°Why don¡¯t you come back and talk again once you figure out if you¡¯re a guy or a girl.¡±


    That¡­ that made me rock backward on my heels, confusion flooding me. Wait, he didn¡¯t know about¨Cwait. ¡°What?¡± I managed, feeling Izzy touch my back.


    His hand waved, gesturing to my head. ¡°Long hair on one side, short hair on the other. Are you a girl or a guy? At least in a few years once you grow more than bumps there you won¡¯t be able to pretend anymore.¡±


    His words, especially as he gestured toward my chest, made his buddies snicker. I was already balling up my fist and starting to move, when Izzy caught my arm somewhat subtly, stepping next to me. ¡°We should go,¡± she murmured before adding, ¡°Looks like you scared him enough already.¡± That was added with a not-so-subtle gesture downward.


    ¡°Scared? Who¡¯s sca¨Cwhat?¡± The guy looked down, his eyes widening as he saw the large wet spot across the front of his shorts that Izzy had just surreptitiously put there while everyone was distracted. His hands moved to cover it, even as the others around him, including his buddies, started laughing. ¡°That¡¯s not¨Cfuck¨Cshut up, I didn¡¯t piss my¨Cfuck you!¡±


    Izzy and I both used that opening to leave, even as the guy¡¯s words about me choosing to be male or female played through my head. He was an asshole and a moron, obviously, so I should¡¯ve just ignored him. There were always going to be people like that. It didn¡¯t¡­ it didn¡¯t mean anything.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I murmured toward Izzy.


    She hesitated, then just squeezed my hand. ¡°He had it coming.¡±


    Thankfully, I was quickly distracted as we slipped through the crowd by the sound of a gasp going up around us. It made my whole body tense as my gaze jerked around to see what was wrong. My brain immediately leapt to all sorts of possibilities. Including the not-so-terrible thought that the guy back there had just spontaneously combusted.


    In this case, however, there was no threat. Instead, I saw Inessa emerge from the crowd. Seeing her, my heart leapt. God, she was so cool. Even now, walking through the crowd full of people staring at her, she was cool. And the way she grinned when she saw me was just¡­ god, what was wrong with me? Was it weird that I just wanted to stand there and giggle like an idiot when she smiled at me like that?


    Well it definitely would¡¯ve been weird if I didn¡¯t say something pretty quick. So, I forced myself to take a step that way while speaking up. ¡°Hey, Inessa. This is Izzy, my sister.¡± I gestured that way before adding, ¡°We were just getting her a board.¡±


    ¡°Izzy, hey!¡± Inessa stepped over to join us. ¡°You mind if I take a look?¡±


    Wordlessly handing it over, the younger girl looked at me. Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but then she stopped and just stared. The look she was giving me made me think I had done something weird. Maybe she just noticed how I was acting around Inessa. Stupid fangirl instincts. Yeah, she definitely noticed something. But what was I supposed to do? It was Inessa Sidorov! I couldn¡¯t just ignore that! I couldn¡¯t¨CI¨Cit was Inessa Sidorov!


    Speaking of whom, the woman in question finished looking over the board and then started to talk to Izzy herself about how to take care of it, how she should start learning about riding, and all that stuff. There had to be a couple hundred people standing around, craning to look at her, but Inessa was solely focused on talking to Izzy about learning how to skate properly. It was like Izzy was the only person in the world for her right then. She even convinced the younger girl to give her her phone number so she could call and check in. Then she talked to me for a minute, sharing a couple jokes with both of us (and the crowd) about the first time she started to learn how to skate in her own backyard back in Ukraine and how stupid she had been for not wearing protective gear until she broke her wrist. Then she took it seriously. She made Izzy promise to wear all the right equipment every time she did anything on the board. And got me to double-promise to make sure we both did.


    After that, she made sure we had the tickets to get into the ¡®backstage¡¯ tent, then headed off into the crowd once more, talking to someone else she had met. The group moved with her, since the people, thankfully, still didn¡¯t know who I was. I had a lot of problems with what my parents were and what they did, but the fact that I was able to be anonymous in this crowd still meant a lot. Looking at the way everyone followed Inessa around, at how famous she was amongst other skaters and all that, it was just¡­ it made me think about how different my life would¡¯ve been if my parents didn¡¯t make sure I could live my life as normally as possible.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Finally shaking my head, I turned to ask Izzy if she wanted to get a drink, only to stop as she was still staring at me. Outside of the distraction when Inessa had been talking directly to her, I didn¡¯t think she had stopped staring. But I didn¡¯t understand why. She¡¯d been looking at me weirdly for the past few minutes, basically ever since I introduced her to Inessa. But all I¡¯d said was¨C


    Oh.


    Eyes widening a bit, I blurted, ¡°Uh, right, sister. I said you were my sister. I mean¨CI¡¯m¨Cthat wasn¡¯t¨CI wasn¡¯t trying to assume you¨CI mean I know you really aren¡¯t sure if you¨CI¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she interrupted, though she sounded a bit confused. ¡°You weren¡¯t¡­ trying to pressure me or anything, I get it. You just said it. Like you weren¡¯t even thinking about that.¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Yeah, I definitely wasn¡¯t thinking, you¡¯re right on that one. I just¨CI don¡¯t wanna push you or anything. I was distracted because it¡¯s Inessa Sidorov and I wanted to introduce you guys and¨Cuhh, yeah.¡± My face was a bit flushed. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    Thankfully, now that she¡¯d had a moment to recover from what had obviously been a surprise, Izzy seemed more amused by my reaction than anything else. She smiled just a little before nodding. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Cassie. You just¡­ I wasn¡¯t¡­ it was new.¡±


    Part of me thought I shouldn¡¯t push things, but the impulsive part took over and asked, ¡°New, but maybe not terrible?¡±


    There was the slightest moment of hesitation as Izzy considered that before she smiled once more and agreed, ¡°New, but not terrible.¡± She leaned closer, lowering her voice. ¡°You really like her, huh?¡±


    ¡°Inessa?¡± I felt my blush deepen while shifting on my feet. ¡°She¡¯s been my hero basically forever. I mean, the non-Touched hero.¡± My face darkened a little. ¡°Let¡¯s hope this one turns out better than my favorite Touched hero did.¡± I had told her about the whole Silversmith thing and how much I¡¯d liked him before finding out the truth. It was still a bit of a painful thought. Especially when I considered the Silversmith sheets and pillowcases I¡¯d had, and the action figures, and the¨Cyeah. Boy, how had my dad really felt when I¡¯d asked for all that stuff as a kid?


    Izzy seemed to read the expression on my face and changed the subject to talk about the board she had just done. Together, we walked over to one of the open skating areas and I walked her through a little bit of early practice. Before we were done there, Amber joined us. She wasn¡¯t a huge skater herself, but she did know a few things. Together, the three of us messed around by one of the ramps. I showed them a couple simple tricks, they acted like it was a much bigger deal than it actually was and made a show of cheering just to make me blush even more, that sort of thing. It was fun. It was¡­ nice, and it had nothing to do with any Touched stuff. I could almost pretend I was a normal person again for a few minutes.


    Okay, that wasn¡¯t right. I didn¡¯t want to be normal. I had no desire to be average. I loved my powers. I loved the freedom they offered, the¡­ I loved being Paintball. But the stuff about my family, the stress over what they were and what they did, that part wasn¡¯t exactly fun. It was nice to just shove that out of my head for a little while and focus on something normal and dumb. Even with people like that jackass back there, who really deserved a good kick in the¨Cfuck, no, I was pushing that out of my mind and focusing on fun things.


    Of course, that couldn¡¯t last forever. Though in this case, the reminder of my other life wasn¡¯t exactly the worst. It came in the form of Ryder. I caught a glimpse of the boy standing off to the side, next to a much worse reminder of everything, Arleigh. He didn¡¯t exactly look comfortable being there, and hadn¡¯t noticed me yet. Instead, his focus seemed to be on Errol, who had just come into view through the crowd holding a couple corndogs, one of which he offered to the older boy.


    Seeing Ryder had reminded me of what happened the night before, and the fact that he now knew who I was. Seeing Errol, on the other hand, reminded me of the whole Scions situation. My family had to know Errol was the one Pencil and Cup were looking for, right? So how many of the people around us were secretly guarding him?


    Aaand so much for not thinking about my family situation. That had been a pleasant few minutes.


    Still, I shook that off as best as I could. There was nothing to be done about it right now, and assuming my family did have people watching him, they might wonder why I was staring that way so intently when I was supposed to be here relaxing and having fun. So, I forced my gaze away and walked with Izzy and Amber toward the tent. Halfway there, we were met by Dani, who emerged from the crowd before stopping as she noticed the girl beside me. ¡°Oh, hey¡­ guys.¡±


    Clearing her throat, Amber shifted her weight. I could hear the uncertainty in her voice. ¡°Hey, Dani. What¡¯s uhh¡­¡± She coughed, again sounding strange. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Yeah, something had definitely happened between the two of them. Maybe they kissed and now it was all awkward? That was the only thing I could think of. It definitely made sense, considering the way they kept flipping between avoiding eye contact, then seeking it out, then avoiding it. Between that and the fact that they¡¯d clearly started to develop a thing for each other since Dani joined the school, it made sense.


    Of course, I also knew about the other complication to this situation. Pack. Pack obviously had a thing for That-A-Way. She¡¯d made that abundantly clear. So no wonder Amber was confused about the whole thing. She probably felt guilty about having a thing for Dani too. Dani was the safe option, since she wasn¡¯t an active criminal. But having feelings for Dani made Amber feel guilty about having feelings for Pack, and vice versa. That had to be hard to sort out.


    Boy, wasn¡¯t it good that I didn¡¯t have any problems like that? I might¡¯ve had every other possible complication on the planet, but my love life was just completely nonexistent. Go me.


    It turned out that Dani had a backstage pass too, so the four of us made our way into the tent. There were refreshments, coffee, iced tea, and other stuff laid out along a table, as well as comfortable chairs to sit in facing the skating area where Inessa would be giving her show. And if that wasn¡¯t enough, there were huge television monitors to either side providing footage from people on the sidelines, and a couple drones. So you could see the whole show from multiple angles instead of just what was right in front of you.


    Inessa was back here too, joking around with one of the event organizers. She was making a point of talking up all the dangerous tricks she was going to do, including a lot of hand gestures to show off spins and flips. I could almost see the terror in his face as he thought about what would happen if Inessa Sidorov got hurt during an event he had helped put together. Then they were joined by, of all people, Richard Mornes, the guy from Ten Towers who had given me the tour. Which, I supposed made sense. They probably had a good bit invested in this event, now that I thought about it.


    Mornes was clearly easing the event guy¡¯s nerves, while also joking back and forth with Inessa. He was good at his job, that much was obvious. He was wearing a different Hawaiian shirt than I¡¯d seen him in before. This one was purple with yellow suns and black palm trees.


    Turning away from that whole thing, I joined the others in finding our seats, putting my skateboard on the floor so I could rest my feet on it to stop the thing from rolling away. Then I turned to Izzy, Dani, and Amber and started to regale them with one of my earliest memories of watching Inessa¡¯s videos back when I was seven years old. It basically involved scrolling through YouTube on my tablet while laying inside a blanket fort on the outside patio, looking for something fun to watch.


    ¡°It was funny,¡± I was saying, ¡°cuz when I first saw the video list, I wasn¡¯t even gonna click on it, but then¡­¡± I trailed off, my voice going silent. But my brain wasn¡¯t. I knew what I was about to say. The words that had been on the tip of my tongue. ¡®But then he told me to look at them.¡¯


    He. Anthony. The name wasn¡¯t there, not inside that particular memory anyway. It wasn¡¯t that specific. But I knew it had to be him. I had a fuzzy memory of a boy who had been laying with me inside that blanket fort reaching out to poke at the screen, insisting I should check out the video I had been about to scroll past. I saw his hand, heard his voice. I heard myself joke that he just didn¡¯t want me to look at another rollercoaster video. My head, in my own memory, turned to say something else to him. I saw his face starting to come into view.


    Suddenly, I was doubled over in real life. A sharp, shocking rush of pain was filling my head as I groaned aloud and clutched it. Izzy and Amber were both saying something, but I couldn¡¯t hear them. All I could focus on was the blinding pain that left me almost whimpering.


    It was gone as soon as it arrived. I found myself blinking a few times before looking up. Izzy and Amber were there, the latter kneeling on the ground right in front of me. Dani was looking over from her own seat, seeming just as concerned, and there were a few other people paying attention.


    ¡°I¨CI¡¯m fine, sorry.¡± Shaking my head, I swallowed. ¡°I just need to get some air. Maybe some water. You want some water?¡± Even as they asked questions, I pushed myself up, waving off the concern. ¡°Just a little migraine, it¡¯s gone now. I¡¯ll get some water and be right back.¡± To demonstrate that I was fine, I did a quick little spin with my arms out. None of them looked all that convinced, but I waved them off again and headed out of the tent. What was I supposed to say, that every time I started to get memories of Anthony back, my head felt like it was going to explode?


    Well, I could¡¯ve told Amber and Izzy, but Dani was right there and she wasn¡¯t involved in any of this. Plus someone else might¡¯ve overheard. So that would have to wait. Instead, I took a short walk, passing the regular refreshments table inside the VIP tent to instead walk out to one of the vendor trailers near the parking lot. There, I stood in line, got a tray with a few bottled waters and a large plate of nachos for all of us to share, then started to head back. No way did I wanna be late for the actual show, headache or no headache.


    Unfortunately, I was only about halfway back to the VIP tent, making my way through the crowd, when a frantic shout from the sidelines made my gaze whip that way. I was just in time to see an enormous pair of hands, each bigger than the semi-trailer they were covering, lift that trailer into the air and hurl the thing toward a group of assembled onlookers. The people scattered in every direction while the trailer slammed into the ground there and went tumbling side-over-side.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t get our invitation!¡± the Uncle Friendly side of Janus shouted as their massive arms went back to normal size. The literal two-faced man (men?) stood there, accompanied by the large black man I was going to guess was Juice, given the electricity he was projecting into a ball between his hands. He was wearing a different costume than I was used to. This one was mostly black armor, with several gold lightning bolt-like designs randomly across it, and a metal bullet-shaped helmet with gold lenses over his eyes.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Juice was saying, even as a couple dozen other guys with a mix of guns, chains, and knives spread out from behind them. ¡°But don¡¯t worry about entertaining us.


    ¡°We know how to make our own fun.¡±

 Exhibition 25-03

    Okay, this was bad. But on the plus side, one benefit of these guys being so good at drawing attention was that no one happened to be looking my way. They were very focused on the two Fell-Touched (three? two and a half?) who had just made themselves known alongside all their Prev gang buddies. I took advantage of that by dropping the tray of nachos and water bottles onto a nearby table before throwing myself sideways toward one of the nearby tents. I dropped down and rolled under it to get inside and out of sight.


    This was one of the refreshment tents. There were stacks of coolers full of ice and soda in the corner, and I managed to drop behind that spot while taking my phone out. Immediately, I sent an SOS text to Wren, Paige, and the others, before also sending an emergency alert via the Doephone with the new recognition code that Silversmith had given us, along with sending a text to the phone number he¡¯d given me too. I figured others were already doing that, but it couldn¡¯t hurt, especially with that code. I also called Amber, while sticking my earbud in. While the call was connecting, I was already tugging the bag that Wren had given me out of my pocket. In the background, there was a lot of shouting. It sounded like the gang assholes were spreading out to start forcing people together into a group. Juice was bellowing demands, and there were a couple shots. But it sounded like they were just shooting into the air.


    Abruptly, the call connected. ¡°¨Cgonna get away with any of this, you know?¡± Amber¡¯s voice was saying.


    ¡°Uh huh, sure,¡± another voice replied. ¡°Now shut up and sit there before you get hurt, babe.¡±


    Okay, great. Amber, and presumably Izzy and the others in the VIP tent, were already being held. Which meant they couldn¡¯t reveal their powers without exposing their identities. For now, at least, they couldn¡¯t help. Not until someone helped get them away from those prying eyes.


    I also couldn¡¯t talk to Amber, since I was pretty sure she had just hit the accept call button on her phone and left it in her pocket. At the very least, I would¡¯ve been very surprised if these guys had willingly allowed her to answer it the normal way. They didn¡¯t strike me as that polite.


    Leaving the call connected so I could keep listening, I shook out the bag and made it restore the contents of the other one. Specifically, my costume. While everyone outside the tents were shouting and running past, I hurriedly changed into that. It was almost the fastest change I¡¯d pulled off in my life, topped probably only by that time I¡¯d had to get out of my costume and into my dress back at that hotel while my dad was about to come through the door.


    From what I could hear through the phone connection, these guys weren¡¯t robbing Amber and the others. They didn¡¯t seem interested in anything other than keeping them under control, which seemed strange. If they weren¡¯t here to rob the people in the VIP tent at the very least, why had they come in the first place? Between that and the fact that they were openly attacking a skating demonstration, none of this made any sense. There had to be something else going on.


    At least one of my questions about what they were doing was answered as a voice spoke up from just outside the tent I was in. A voice that made me freeze up in the midst of pulling my helmet on. It was Mister Harmful, snarling an order to one of his subordinates about ¡®finding that Ukrainian cunt before the Stars arrive and this whole thing goes tits up.¡¯


    Wait, Inessa? They were here for Inessa? Why? Just because she was famous? Did they think they could hold her hostage for some sort of payout or something? What the fuck? She was pretty important, and several companies had a lot of money invested in her, so maybe it was that simple?


    One thing was for sure, like hell was I just going to sit around and let them take her. Yeah, I¡¯d been ready to stop these guys before when I thought they were just here to rob people or whatever. But now? Now it was personal. They wanted to hurt the girl I¡¯d idolized since I was in second grade? Fuck every single part of that. Now I was really gonna make these guys regret ever showing up here.


    I uhh¡­ just wasn¡¯t exactly sure how to do that. Especially considering I was all by myself out here, for the moment. But I definitely couldn¡¯t just wait until help arrived. Wherever Inessa was, these guys would¡¯ve found her by that point. I had to make sure that didn¡¯t happen.


    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t know where she was either. But I did know where these guys were, which meant my best way of dealing with this was to distract them long enough for reinforcements to show up.


    To that end, I took a few seconds to put as much paint over myself as I could manage. If I was going to do this without getting myself or anyone else killed, I had to be ready. Before long, my entire suit and helmet were covered inside and out. I also reached down and found a few small rocks on the ground. I was going to paint them white and maybe use them as a distraction. But at the last second I realized it would probably be a good idea if they flew faster too. Green and white together. Fast rocks that would glow. That had to be useful, right? At least to catch someone¡¯s attention. So, just as I was focusing on making white paint appear, I also thought about adding some green lines.


    It worked. Most of the rocks were white, but they had some green swirls mixed in. Weirdly, however, when I looked closely it seemed like the green was sort of bleeding into the white. They weren¡¯t smooth lines, it was more like they were blending together.


    Weird, but whatever. I didn¡¯t have time to focus on that. Not when I could already hear more and more complaints and demands. It sounded like they were rounding up all the civilians and making them stand together in the middle of the skate park¡¯s bowl. Which was a pretty good choice, all things considered. The ¡®bowl¡¯ was actually four impressions in the cement, each about ten feet deep and shaped like a four-leafed clover all together. With everyone down there, squeezed into that space, they would be easy for just a few people to watch over. While, presumably, everyone else looked for Inessa.


    Seriously, how had she managed to stay hidden for so long? Was she actually part of that crowd, blending in somehow? She was famous, but it was possible. It wasn¡¯t like she was a movie star or whatever. If she had a hat on to hide her distinctive blue hair, maybe she could stay incognito for awhile. Or maybe she was hiding somewhere like I was.


    Before I could focus too much on that, I heard another voice. It was Juice, snapping something to one of his subordinates about securing the perimeter, and that ¡®the others¡¯ wouldn¡¯t be able to delay the Stars for that long, so they better hurry the hell up. Their voices faded as they kept moving.


    Locking my fully-painted helmet into place, I pushed myself up just as my phone buzzed a few times. The first was an answering text from Peyton, letting me know she was grabbing the others. The second and third were responses from the authorities and my dad (as Silversmith), confirming that they were sending reinforcements. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t include an ETA, and at least according to what I had just overheard, they were going to be delayed.


    The fourth thing wasn¡¯t a text. It was an incoming call from¡­ from Ryder? Seeing that, I blinked before disconnecting from Amber¡¯s phone. It wasn¡¯t like she could talk to me anyway, not without people noticing. Ryder on the other hand, if he could do something with his mites¡­


    Sure enough, as soon as I connected, an electronically-generated voice spoke. ¡°Paintball. Can help direct you through cameras, tell you when someone is behind you or where to move. Can hear you through connection with Mite if you speak.¡±


    Eits. Eits could help me. He was here, he knew who I was. Even standing in a group, he could still use his mites to control the electronics that he¡¯d already infected, and apparently he¡¯d done so with the cameras surrounding the park. Honestly, I couldn¡¯t blame him that much. Especially not now.


    ¡°Got it,¡± I whispered mostly under my breath, hoping the phone would pick it up. Janus had moved on from being right outside, but I knew there had to be other guys relatively close at any given point as they ran around searching the place for stragglers.


    So, I had Eits in my corner, playing¡­ well, the Eye in the Sky. He was gonna be doing the same role he did as a member of La Casa, only he¡¯d be doing it for me this time. I was just going to have to hope that between the two of us, we could pull this off. If I screwed it up¡­


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Pushing aside that thought, I focused. If I needed their attention on me for a while in order to protect Inessa from whatever bullshit they had planned, then by God, I was going to get their attention. Which meant I was going to have to piss them off. Thankfully, I was pretty good at pissing people off. Especially when it came to my old pals Janus. Would they remember me? I was pretty sure they remembered me.


    And hey, if they didn¡¯t, I¡¯d be glad to remind them.


    ******


    ¡°Wait, two guys talking to your right.¡± The electronic voice was talking in my ear as I crouched by the exit to the refreshments tent. Eits was apparently able to track my phone well enough to know exactly where I was, and coordinate that with the view he could see through the mix of various security cameras and the ones that had been set up to broadcast the event.


    Closing my eyes, I focused on what I could feel. There were three tents in this area, including the one I was in. The one straight across from this one was fifteen feet away, with an opening flap that was about four feet further to the right than this one. The other, smaller tent was next door. I could feel tables and chairs in that one, and figured it was some sort of autograph tent or something. Or maybe a command tent for the organizers. The opening flap of that one was perpendicular to these tents, facing the skating area itself, where most of the people were. Which made sense. These were the supply tents, they didn¡¯t need everyone to see them. Whether the smaller one was a command tent or a place for Inessa to sit and sign autographs, facing the public area was just logical.


    All that passed through my mind, before the voice spoke up again. ¡°One guy left, twenty feet to your right. Still looking your way, so wait. Wait¡­ Go.¡±


    Immediately, I rolled out of the tent, staying low to avoid any other attention. Sure enough, one of the Prev thugs was there. He was faced away from me, as promised, with a shotgun held to one side. He was holding the thing loosely by the barrel, with his hand nowhere near the trigger.


    Bringing both hands up, I hit the guy with a shot of black paint from one and red paint from the other. While he started to turn upon feeling the impact of the paint, I hit the ground in front of me with a spot of red, yanking the guy off his feet. The black paint kept him silent, and I hit the gun with another shot of red as he dropped it, yanking it to my red glove.


    The man hit the ground in front of me, still flailing and trying in vain to shout. I quickly tapped the guy¡¯s shoulder to plant a red star there, then held the tent flap aside while activating that bit of red, plus the one I¡¯d left on the ground in there. Immediately, the guy was sent flying that way, landing between a couple of the stacked coolers. Looking both ways to make sure nobody had noticed, I took the gun with me and quickly moved to the guy, hitting him with another small shot of black to keep him quiet a bit longer. Then I went for the longer way of keeping him quiet. Namely, by grabbing one of the many Inessa-themed merch bandanas from a nearby box. Activating a line of purple stars down my arms, I drew back my foot before kicking the guy as he tried to scramble to his feet. As he went down, I dropped on top of him and stuffed the bandana in his mouth, then wrapped another around the back of his head to keep it in place. He was struggling, but I had leverage and strength over him. Enough, in this case, to flip the guy over and use several more tied-together bandanas I had prepared to secure his wrists and then his ankles. I left him there, shoved back behind the same boxes I had been hiding behind earlier. He was still making a little bit of noise, but it was doubtful that anyone would hear him. At least, not until it was too late anyway. And Eits would be able to tell me if anyone came this way.


    Speaking of whom, according to him, Juice and Janus were mostly playing overseers. They were simply standing out of the way, ordering their thugs this way and that to search for Inessa. They were too important (or lazy) to do the searching for themselves. And I could use that right now. Instead of following my first instinct and just throwing myself into plain view to draw their attention, I was going to even the odds a little bit by dealing with as many of the separated Prev thugs as I could. Then we¡¯d see just how much I could piss off my old pals.


    As I reached the entrance to the tent once more, I spoke quietly. ¡°Positions?¡±


    There was about a five second pause, before the electronic voice returned. ¡°J and J still by the pit. Three armed guys around that. One guy by soda and hot dog truck three hundred feet behind tent, past more trucks. Watching road for anyone coming. Two guys together one hundred and seventy feet ahead of tent, searching in and under staff vehicles. One guy one hundred feet to the left side of tent, looking through port-a-potties.¡±


    He kept going like that, giving me detailed locations for every person here. The guy by the bathrooms was the nearest, so I focused on him. Telling Eits to warn me if anyone else came close, I grabbed some more bandanas, shoved them in my pocket, and activated a bit of black on my shoes before running that way.


    Twice, Eits warned me about passing guards who could have looked over and seen me. Each time, I managed to duck down out of sight before they could. Then he warned me not to go one way because two guys were standing in plain view together. So I slipped around behind a parked trailer, heading the long way around toward the back of the port-a-potties, where my target was still carefully opening each door in succession. I was close enough by that point to hear him muttering to himself as he closed another door none-too-gently.


    Pressing my back up against the side of the one he was moving to next, I waited until I could hear the door open. Then I stepped around, putting myself directly behind the man as he scanned the empty space within. A shot of black paint into his back assured that no one would hear him, as I activated a series of purple X shapes across my stomach and gave the guy a hard shove from behind. He fell forward, while I snatched the gun out of his grip. Before he could recover, I hit each of his shoulders with a shot of red paint, then added two quick shots to either side of the toilet hole. Activating those meant he was yanked down hard onto his knees with his face basically over the hole. Probably not the nicest position to be in, but on the other hand, these guys were assaulting innocent civilians at an Inessa skating event, so fuck them.


    The guy was still flailing, but the paint was holding him down. Before any of it could wear off, I grabbed one of my strings of bandanas and wrapped it around his neck, before pushing one end through one small air hole in the back of the port-a-potty and back through another one, tying both ends off like that to hold him in place.


    By that point, the black paint was about to wear off, but before his shouts could attract anyone, I shoved another makeshift gag into his mouth and tied that off as well. Then I whispered, ¡°How popular do you think you¡¯ll be with your buddies if they find you facedown in a port-a-potty like this, dude? Think you¡¯d ever live that down? Or would your nickname be Port-A-John from now on?¡±


    He froze briefly, clearly considering that as I went on. ¡°And just so you know, if I start hearing you make a bunch of noise, I¡¯ll just have to tip this whole thing over. You wanna think about how that¡¯ll go for you in this position?¡±


    Again, the man didn¡¯t seem eager to find out. So I patted his shoulder a couple times. ¡°Hang out here for a bit.¡± Then I stepped out, closing the door behind me. From the outside, everything looked fine. I took the man¡¯s pistol and hid it under the john for the moment.


    From there, using Eits¡¯ directions, I made my way to the parking lot where a couple more guys were searching vehicles. Rolling underneath a truck, I watched until they separated to go around either side of one aisle. While their backs were to each other, I hit one in one foot with black paint, and the other foot with red. A second later, he was yanked down and hauled all the way over to the truck where I was waiting with active purple paint to pull him out of sight. Soon, he was tied and gagged as well, with his wrists secured to the exhaust pipe of the truck as he lay on his face.


    The next guy eventually came around the side, looking for his buddy. Before he could find anything, I hit him as well and had him in the same position under the opposite truck. The two men could see each other, grunting with annoyance through the gags.


    And so it continued. One by one, I made my way through the outskirts of the skating park, securing as many of these random goons as I could. It would¡¯ve been impossible without Ryder¡¯s help, telling me exactly where and when to go to avoid being seen. All the while, I could hear the Fell-Touched guys growing more and more annoyed by the lack of progress. They had not, however, noticed that their men were disappearing. Not yet, anyway.


    Finally, there were no more I could easily get to without being seen by others. Which meant it was time to move on to phase two. Or rather, phase three. Phase two had been getting Inessa out of sight, but she seemed to have handled that on her own, because I still couldn¡¯t find her and Ryder had no idea where she was even with his camera view.


    Just as I had that thought, Mister Harmful bellowed in the distance, ¡°Okay, enough of this! Hey cunt! You either come out now, or lose some fans. Let¡¯s say six to start, huh? That sounds fair! You got five seconds to show yourself! One¡­ two¡­¡±


    Without missing a beat, I went sprinting that way, using green paint to speed myself up. Just as I came around the corner, I used a blue square on the ground to launch myself high into the air, activating a pair of orange criss-crossed sword shapes on my back for protection. At the same time, I aimed down, sending a spray of orange protective paint over the assembled hostages just as I went sailing past them.


    ¡°Dude, you can count to five?!¡± The blurted words escaped me as I landed in a crouch on top of a lamp post that was meant to illuminate the skating area. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one bet I lost. If you can multiply, I might have to get a part-time job to pay off those losses.¡±


    Quivering with rage as he glared up at me. Mister Harmful snarled, ¡°Ohhh you little fuck.¡± But it was both him and Uncle Friendly who shouted together,


    ¡°Kill that piece of shit!¡±

 Non-Canon 22 - Broken Balance

    <div>


    Sterling Evans¡¯s life was about balance and control. It always had been, from the time he had been a young teenager who liked math, yet hated school and everything associated with it. He did the bare minimum work he needed to do to graduate, despite technically being smart enough to perform at a much higher level. He simply had no desire to. He balanced his desire to do no work against his desire to graduate and performed barely adequately. Besides, he had learned very early on that if the teachers knew you were smart, they heaped more pressure onto you. Someone who was barely capable managing to reach minimum expectation was left alone, but someone they saw as promising could never do enough to satisfy. He allowed his teachers to see him as someone on the lower end of average. It had given him far more freedom.


    And yet, he had needed money to do anything with that freedom. So, while still in high school, Sterling had begun helping students in other schools with their homework in exchange for cash. That had escalated to helping them cheat, and one of the students he helped cheat had been the godson of Jacopo Russo himself, head of the local mob. That boy had said something about Sterling to his mother, who spoke to Jacopo, and before long the barely-average high school graduate was working for the Russos as an accountant. It was more money than he ever knew what to do with, but more importantly, had led to him meeting Elena. They met, fell in love, and his life became about balancing his secret life with her against his life working for her father, who would have killed him rather than allow Sterling to date his daughter.


    From there, they took over Jacopo¡¯s business and turned it into their own. They created the identity of Silversmith and the Ministry. More balance. More control. They balanced and controlled crime within the city, pushed tourism up, brought in more Touched, turned Detroit from a failing, fallen city into one of the fastest-growing metropolises in the country.


    All of which had brought Sterling to this moment. Or rather, Silversmith. That¡¯s who he was right now. Blackjack--Eric was on the warpath to get back the vials that would save his daughter¡¯s life. Not something Silversmith would ever blame him for. Now, apparently they were within his grasp, or had been. But a couple of the vials had disappeared, taken by Cu¨¦lebre or something while Eric was busy with the rest of his gang and the Minority chasing down Grandstand after she used her power to draw their attention.


    But the vials were still with Cu¨¦lebre. And apparently he wasn¡¯t alone. From what Silversmith had been able to piece together from reports, that new hero, Paintball, was chasing him.


    Paintball was chasing Cu¨¦lebre. That was a disaster waiting to happen. Smith had to get there quick. He didn¡¯t particularly want to let some new hotshot young hero get himself murdered when Cu¨¦lebre didn¡¯t pull his punches enough, and he owed Eric. Besides, he and Elena both loved Melissa almost as much as if she was truly their niece. There was no way he would stand aside and allow her to die. Not if he could help it.


    All of which prompted the man to fly faster, high above the city streets. His silver armor was technically what was moving, guided through the air by his own power, with Smith simply pulled along within it. He scanned the streets ahead, searching for any sign of--


    There. A lightning bolt erupted into view, so close Silversmith was almost startled. Cu¨¦lebre could be very fast and very quiet when he wanted to be, for such a big guy. As the man¡¯s gaze snapped that way, he stopped on a dime in the air. The big demon-figure had just come into view from around the edge of a tall building, landing on a lower roof while a much-smaller figure slammed into the opposite building, then plummeted toward the ground.


    Fuck. Having absolutely no desire to let Paintball die like that, or at all really, Silversmith extended his hand. Before the boy, who had clearly been struck or at least very narrowly missed by Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s lightning bolt, could fall over a hundred feet to the ground, a silver platform appeared under him. The ¡®metal¡¯ rippled a bit as the boy¡¯s limp form landed on it, absorbing the impact and dissipating the force automatically, similar to the way Smith¡¯s armor absorbed the impact of bullets before allowing them to drop harmlessly to the ground rather than ricocheting off. Paintball would be left¡­ not unharmed, but at least no more harmed than he already was. Especially once walls rose around the silver platform to encase him in a dome.


    Cu¨¦lebre was already looking around for the new target, when Silversmith summoned a fist half the size of Cu¨¦lebre himself. It slammed into the man from the side, smacking him with just enough force to knock him out of the air and into one of the nearby alleys. Smith would let him wrestle with that hand for a few moments while he checked on Paintball, then he would get the vials for Eric.


    The dome keeping the idiot Star-Touched kid safe was already floating up toward him. Silversmith glanced that way while lowering the walls. He could sense Cu¨¦lebre struggling against the hand, and knew it wouldn¡¯t take the demon-like man long to break it. But he could at least take the time to make sure this kid wasn¡¯t¡­ wasn¡¯t¡­


    When Sterling had first touched that glowing orb, all those years ago, the universe had stopped around him. He was taken to a new place, a shadowy, fog-filled place. He saw things, his life projected around him. And when he came back to himself, no time had passed. The world had been frozen.


    Now, it was frozen again, but instead of a grand, inconceivable gift, this particular moment came with terror the likes of which he had never truly known. He had come close, five years earlier upon hearing that Jacopo¡¯s people had attacked Anthony¡¯s birthday party, and that the man himself might already have Cassidy. He¡¯d come even closer when he¡¯d arrived at the party himself and found his father-in-law right there in front of a terrified Cassidy as she cowered in the back of the car. He had come so close to losing her that day.


    And yet, none of those feelings were so much as a candle against what he felt in this moment. Floating there next to his summoned platform, he saw¡­ his daughter. Cassidy was lying there. Most of the simple jumpsuit costume she wore had been burned off, leaving just enough for some form of modesty. The helmet and mask were shattered and torn, exposing her burned face. Her gloved hand was open, revealing the vial she had been clutching when Cu¨¦lebre struck her. By some miracle, the vial was still intact. Damaged, but intact.


    Paintball was Cassidy. His daughter. She was--the whole time it had been¡­ and now... now¡­


    Terror had taken hold of Sterling. It seized his heart and clutched it as tightly as it could in its pitiless grasp. His hand moved, the armor surrounding it melting away to expose his bare skin as his fingers found their way to his daughter¡¯s sweaty, burned, traumatized face, then to her throat.


    Breathing. She was breathing. He saw her chest rise just as his fingers found the pulse in her neck. The very worst had not yet happened. Cassidy was alive. Terrifyingly hurt, but alive.


    Without wasting another moment, without even thinking at all, Sterling shifted the platform into a stretcher, using summoned silver straps to keep his daughter safe against it while diving toward the ground. The stretcher followed, as he landed next to one of the building exit doors. His voice, cracking only slightly, snapped the words, ¡°Call Yellowbrick now.¡±


    Through the earbud, he heard two rings before the call connected. Immediately, he ordered, ¡°Track my location and send a bridge from here to our primary medical facility.¡±


    Disconnecting that call, he made another one to his wife, telling her where to go and what she would find in as few words as possible. By that point, the doorway was open, and he went through the void, across the bridge, with Cassidy floating behind him on the silver stretcher. Through the next doorway, and they were in the hospital. A literal hospital, actually. The Ministry simply maintained a couple secret floors deep underground, further down than anyone believed that particular hospital actually went. Doctors and nurses worked there just as they would in any normal hospital, though these carried out their duties in secret.


    With just a couple words, Sterling told the two emergency nurses who arrived at the receiving area what had happened. After carefully removing the precious vial from her limp hand so he could tuck it away, he let them take Cassidy off his summoned stretcher, warned them to be careful with her while doing his best not to let them know just how much the girl he was entrusting to their care meant to him. As they began to take her away, toward the examination room, he followed. But before he had gone more than two steps, one of the doctors stepped in his way.


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    ¡°Smith,¡± he started, ¡°I know you¡¯re worried about the kid. But trust me, we¡¯ve got this. We¡¯ve got her. Don¡¯t worry. We know what we¡¯re doing.¡±


    That man had no idea how close he came to being a smear on the wall. Sterling very nearly summoned a silver hammer to remove the obstacle between him and his injured daughter. But, at the last second, he saw Cassidy¡¯s burned face as the nurses wheeled her into the first available room, and stopped short. Seeing her like that, knowing how hurt she was, how much pain she would have been if she had even been conscious, it reminded him of just how dangerous this whole situation was.


    As far as these people knew, Silversmith worked for the Ministry, just as they did. They didn¡¯t know he was the leader of it, and they certainly didn¡¯t know that the girl on that stretcher was his daughter. Even now, even in this moment, he had to be careful. He had to maintain that balance. No matter how terrified he was, he couldn¡¯t let that show in front of them. No matter how much he wanted to scream, throw his armor off, fall to his knees and beg his unconscious daughter for forgiveness for leading her to that situation, and forget everything else, it wouldn¡¯t help. It would only hurt. He could do nothing for Cassidy by exposing his identity and connection to her now. Elena would be here soon. She would take care of things here. He couldn¡¯t help with this. Elena could handle the secrets and the doctors could handle saving Cassidy¡¯s life.


    There was¡­ however¡­ one thing that he could handle.


    Without a word of argument with the doctor who had been brave enough to stand in his path (even if he didn¡¯t know who Cassidy was to him, willingly blocking someone like Silversmith had to take some very deep courage and conviction), Sterling pivoted and walked back the way he had come. The door he¡¯d brought Cassidy through normally led to the stairwell, but the bridge was still there, as he had known it would be. Yellowbrick knew him well enough not to dismiss it just yet.


    A moment later, Sterling was back on the street. The silver hand had vanished when he¡¯d gone through Yellowbrick¡¯s void, so Cu¨¦lebre was free. The demon man was already out of the alley, his fifteen-foot tall form massive as he stood in the middle of the road, gaze snapping one way, then the other. ¡°Heeeey Smith!¡± He shout-snarled the words. ¡°I know you¡¯re out there somewhere, probably hiding with that little dumbshit who thought he could fuck with--¡±


    In mid-sentence, the man was interrupted as a silver hand, large enough to fit even his massive form in its palm, materialized behind him. Before he could react, the hand hoisted him off the ground, swung forward, and slammed him into the brick wall of the building. No, not into, through. The wall shattered as Cu¨¦lebre was sent crashing through it and into the building beyond, where he went through several more interior walls. Then the hand hauled him back through a different exterior wall, rose high into the air, and brought him down so hard into the sidewalk that the concrete shattered under the impact to create a twenty-foot wide, six-foot deep hole.


    There was no more control. There was no more balance. Sterling had held onto that for as long as he could. He had clung to it until Cassidy was being taken care of by the people who could help her far better than he could. Now that control had shattered, and left behind only rage, and a single desire: to deal with the man who almost killed his daughter. He didn¡¯t want to arrest Cu¨¦lebre. He didn¡¯t want Cu¨¦lebre to pay a Ministry fine, or be cast out, or be arrested, or¡­ any of that.


    He wanted Cu¨¦lebre to hurt.


    Even as those thoughts were running through Sterling¡¯s head, the demonic figure had torn his way back up out of the hole. His tail lashed out, crashing into the side of the building to do even more damage to it, while he spun to face the man who had ambushed him. ¡°Okay!¡± he bellowed deafeningly as his tail rose, electricity sparking off of it, ¡°That¡¯s eno--¡±


    A silver hammer, the head as large as an SUV, crashed down from above. But just before he would have flattened Cu¨¦lebre, the man¡¯s arms snapped up to catch hold of it. He caught the hammer, snarling, ¡°You wanna play now?!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Sterling replied flatly. The solid metal of the hammer turned more fluid, allowing Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s hands, as he pushed hard up against it to stop the thing from crushing him, to disappear inside before instantly hardening once more. Now his hands were trapped within, arms held high.


    That single word was the only one Sterling spoke aloud. But he said so much more in other ways. Before Cu¨¦lebre could break his hands free, the man was there. He brought his arm back before lashing out with a single punch.


    From an outside perspective, it almost might have looked comical. Sterling, after all, stood only about six feet tall, far less than Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s fifteen. Between the demonic-figure¡¯s simple height, sheer mass, muscular shape, wings, and tail, Sterling was probably less than a third of his size.


    And yet, when his much-smaller fist collided with the larger man¡¯s stomach, Cu¨¦lebre doubled over as much as the hammer holding his arms up would allow. Because Sterling didn¡¯t hit him simply with the force he could summon by himself. He hit him with all the force his power could muster. He always used his power to put enough force into his constructs to tear apart walls, to blow through trucks, to rip guns, chains, and even metal barriers in half. He could make his constructs hit someone with the force of a speeding car. And the thing people often forgot was that his armor was one of those constructs.


    Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail lashed out while he was still doubled over from that single blow. As strong as Sterling¡¯s armor was, it still likely would have broken under that blade, which had itself punched through the side of a tank in the past. But the man didn¡¯t let the tail get that far. Even as it started to snap down like a scorpion, Sterling made the hammer spin in the air before flying off. With Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s hands still trapped within it, he was dragged sideways, his tail flailing behind him just before he was thrown headlong into the building across the street. The windows shattered as the hammer yanked him along, before he sent a blast of lightning down into it with another terrifying scream of rage. The blast freed his hands, and the demon man instantly threw himself back out through another set of windows, launching his considerably-larger form at the still-motionless Silversmith.


    In mid-leap, however, something slammed into the man from behind. The silver hammer had reformed itself and crashed back out of the building, slamming into Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s back to send him toward his opponent far faster than he had been moving on his own. Before the man could recover, Sterling lunged forward to meet him. His fist collided with Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s chin, striking him so hard his head was snapped to the side with a dangerous-sounding crack as several bones in his face shattered. The far-larger man¡¯s forward momentum was halted entirely, as he crashed to the ground on his back with Sterling on top of him.


    ¡°What th--¡± Once again, his protest was interrupted as Sterling¡¯s silver fist slammed into his face again, this time up near his eye. Perched on the demon¡¯s chest, Sterling drew his fist back and punched him in the cheek, then the chin, then up near his forehead in a series of hammering blows. When Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s right arm came up to grab him, a silver hook and chain latched onto it and yanked the arm down. The same soon happened to the left, while Sterling kept punching that face over and over.


    He didn¡¯t see the man, he only saw his daughter, lying in that crumpled heap. He heard her terribly shallow breaths, rather than Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s bellows. He saw her burned skin, her closed eyes, the way her body was so¡­ so small and fragile.


    He saw all of that and worse as he continued to rain blows down onto the man who had put her in that condition. He saw himself, lying there under his own fists. He was the one who had not told her the truth, the one who had created this situation. Over and over again, Sterling hammered his own imagined face.


    Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s tail came up to smack into the crazed man from behind, but before it could, a twelve foot long silver broadsword appeared in the air and lashed out to literally cut the tail off at the base, passing through the armored scales, muscle, and bone like they were all made of butter. The demon man screamed in rage and pain, using his wings to push under himself to get up. But that too failed, as the silver broadsword duplicated itself and spun up and under the two men, slicing through the wings as well. They fell away as Cu¨¦lebre dropped back down with a scream that was more pain than rage by that point.


    Finally, Sterling¡¯s phone rang. It was from his wife. He stopped, staring down at his opponent while speaking the voice command to answer the call. ¡°Tell me.¡± His voice only cracked a little. Then he listened as Elena informed him that Cassidy would be okay. She would survive. The news made him let out a long, low breath, thanking her before disconnecting.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t just kill you,¡± Sterling snarled then. A silver box appeared around Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s head, locking it in position so he was forced to stare at him. Tail and wings cut away, arms held by silver chains and hooks, head locked in place, the man lay helpless like that, barely able to see through the damage that had been done to his eyes through those repeated blows. ¡°Not until I knew if she survived. If she¡¯d died¡­ then¡­ then I would¡¯ve wanted a lot worse for you than a quick death. You would have deserved worse.¡±


    ¡°Wha--what the fuck are you--who?!¡± Cu¨¦lebre managed, clearly completely lost.


    ¡°Who?¡± Sterling echoed, as the front of his helmet peeled away to reveal his face. A face that was famous enough for Cu¨¦lebre to immediately recognize him, a pained gasp escaping the pinned giant before Sterling continued in a low, dangerous voice. ¡°Paintball. She¡­ she¡¯s my daughter.¡±


    ¡°Wha¡­ what?¡± Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s confusion was palpable. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ what. I--I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sterling murmured. ¡°Well, now you do.¡± He rose, stepping off the trapped demon man¡¯s chest before straightening up. ¡°And she¡¯s going to live.¡± He cracked his neck to one side, then pivoted on his heel to walk away, the silver mask reappearing to cover his face once more. ¡°Lucky for you.¡±


    He didn¡¯t even look that way as a new, fifteen foot long, three foot wide broadsword appeared in the air and fell to separate Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s head from his body.

 Exhibition 25-04

    Well, assuming my intention had been to piss off a whole group of people who could kill me, then mission highly successful. All of the guys with guns who had been standing guard over the hostages immediately turned their weapons my way and opened fire. At the same time, Juice sent a blast of electricity into the area he clearly thought their gunfire would send me dodging into. But I had been pretty sure that was exactly what would happen. So, instead of throwing myself into that open space, and therefore right into the lightning, I trusted my orange paint to keep me alive. It still wasn¡¯t fun, considering being hit by all those bullets felt like being in a hailstorm. I would definitely have a few bruises. But they didn¡¯t penetrate, and that was the important part.


    In the midst of all that gunfire, my hand touched the lamp post I was perched on. All the way down the length of it, the lamp turned pink. They noticed just as Juice¡¯s lightning bolt went flying off a bit to my left. Before they could react, I hopped backwards, quickly activating and disabling the paint at the same moment to turn the lamp post into a springy surface. My hands caught the end of it, yanking it backwards and down with me. The pole bent all the way over, like in the cartoons when they pull a springy tree. And just like in those cartoons, when I released the pole, it snapped all the way back up and over in the opposite direction, slamming down into two of the gunmen before they could react. They were knocked sprawling down into the pit with the hostages, guns cluttering along the cement. Meanwhile, the pole snapped back upright as if nothing had happened.


    Janus, by that point, were sending a massive fist the size of a Volkswagen right at the spot where I had landed. From that and the large amount of cursing they were doing, I was starting to think they didn¡¯t like me very much.


    I wanted to use yellow paint to slow the fist down, and the rest of them by extension. But I was pretty sure I was running very low on available paint at that moment, after all of it I¡¯d used while quietly taking down those other guys coupled with turning that entire pole pink just now. I had to wait for a few seconds. Instead, I activated another couple spots of green along my legs and ran forward. Just before the fist would¡¯ve collided with me, I activated a couple blue stars on the bottom of my shoes. It launched me upward into a flip before I came down on the men¡¯s enormous arm. They were still reacting to that while I raced along it. ¡°Hey guys, I think I really¨C¡± My knee slammed into one of their faces. The Mr. Harmful one, as it happened. ¡°¨Ckneed you!¡±


    My momentum, combined with the fact that I had activated a picture of two crossed purple baseball bats along my arms, were enough to snap their head backwards despite their enhanced strength. I didn¡¯t think it actually did that much damage, but still. Their right arm was still extended and shrinking back down, but the left snapped upward to grab me by the head. Before they could do that, I threw myself backwards, planting both shoes against Harmful¡¯s face to launch away from them. ¡°If I¡¯m too close, I¡¯ll put a couple feet between us!¡±


    Juice had pivoted by that point, taking aim at me once more as I went into the air. However, before he could hit me with his second lightning blast, I pointed with both hands. One shot of red hit his extended wrist, while the other hit Janus in the shoulder. I could tell that would be the last of my paint for now, but it was enough to yank the man¡¯s arm down just as he unleashed that blast. The lightning slammed into Janus, drawing a pained and furious cry from both of them. They stumbled backward and down onto one knee, clearly needing a moment to pull themselves together.


    Juice, on the other hand, didn¡¯t need a moment. And he was pretty damn pissed off by that point, as was the one remaining guy with his gun. That guy came charging forward, pulling the weapon up as he shouted something about me being a little son of a bitch. He opened fire, but despite all the stuff that had already happened, the ten seconds of my orange paint protection still wasn¡¯t up yet. Three or four bullets rebounded off my helmet even as I grabbed a piece of broken cement off the ground. It was about the size of a ping-pong ball, and I pushed it against my palm while raising my hand. Before the guy knew what was happening, I activated the blue circle that was already on my glove there. The rock was launched out of my hand and smacked right into the middle of his forehead. He dropped his gun and staggered with a cry.


    Meanwhile, Juice had abandoned trying to hit me with electricity. Or maybe he only had so many shots he could use in a limited time. Either way, he was running at me. And that was kind of terrifying, considering his powers didn¡¯t just let him use electricity for lightning blasts. He also used it to make himself stronger and faster. I saw a shower of sparks from the same lamp post I had used before as he sucked the energy out of it and came running right at me like a runaway freight train. He was a huge, muscular black guy all on his own, and now he was empowered to the point that he could probably literally run right through me as if I was a squirrel and he was a truck. And my paint reserves weren¡¯t ready to do anything yet. Fortunately, I had prepared for all this, and still had an assortment of paint scattered across my body. And, as it happened, on things other than my body.


    So, tempting as it was to stay crouched there and stare at the incoming man like a deer in headlights as he reared back his fist, I pulled out those two rocks I had painted green and white earlier. Holding them tightly, I waited as he ran, telling myself to hold off until the last second. Finally, just before he would¡¯ve been on top of me, I activated two more small spots of blue paint on my heels. Thanks to the position my feet were in, I was sent backwards and up slightly, as the man let out a screaming curse and swung at the spot where I had just been. At the same time, I threw both of those rocks up toward his face. The second I activated them, the white paint I had covered them in went off in a quick, incredibly bright flash.


    Wait, what? That was actually a lot stronger than I¡¯d expected, or seen up to that point. Every other time I used the white paint, it just made objects glow. My thought had been to throw white glowing rocks into his eyes to maybe distract him or whatever. The green paint had been to make them fly faster, but¡­ Actually, come to think of it, the rocks didn¡¯t continue to glow afterwards. It was like they had expended the full effect of the paint at once. Had I somehow put the entire ten seconds worth of light into that single flash? Wait, when I put the green in there, the two colors sort of ran together. Did the green imbue its speed into the white to make the effect faster, but more powerful? Was that something it could do?


    All those thoughts jumped into my head as I came down back on the ground and rolled along the cement. Juice was bellowing loudly as he reeled and waved his hands in front of his face. Yeah, he had been at least temporarily blinded. Which was better than I had expected this to go. I was really¡ª


    A giant hand wrapped around me from behind, hoisting me off the ground while squeezing tight enough to hurt.


    Oh, right, there was still that other problem.


    Janus, who had apparently recovered, were taking themselves off the ground while holding me even tighter. If they squeezed any more, I was pretty sure something would start to break. Uncle Friendly was the one facing me, but he didn¡¯t look all that friendly in that moment. They stepped closer, maintaining their grip while I grunted in pain. His voice came in a low snarl, teeth clenched. ¡°Now, see, you just can¡¯t leave well enough alone, can you? You really think you¡¯re enough to rescue all those people by yourself, you stupid little shit?¡±


    Grunting a little as he kept squeezing, I took a moment to force the words out. ¡°You might be right about me being a¡­ uggnn¡­. stupid¡­ little shit. Maybe that¡¯s why I¡¯m confused right now. Since you¡¯re, ugggnnn¡­ so much smarter than me, could you maybe answer one little question?¡± Pausing just a bit, I made the next words come out pointedly, while they leaned a bit closer to hear me better. ¡°Rescue what people?¡±


    The skating pit was to their left, out of sight of both of them. With a confused noise, Mister Harmful turned their head so he could see it¡­ and realized that the pit was empty, save for the two disarmed and thoroughly pummeled thugs I had knocked into it. Throughout the past few moments, while I was playing distraction, the hostages had all clambered out the opposite side and were running off across the park.


    While they were distracted by that, I activated my secret weapon, the thing I had prepared ahead of time for something just like this (yeah, I was expecting them to grab me at some point). I had painted my entire body under the suit pink. I activated that paint now, and the force of their hand squeezing me instantly made my body squirt down both of their grasp. It was a very weird sensation, to say the least. My head inside the helmet stayed intact, but the rest of me was basically like an old tube of toothpaste. Well, more like my body was the toothpaste itself and my costume was the tube. Either way, I went schlooping down out of Janus¡¯s hand, landing on the ground under the massive fist while deactivating the pink paint. Since I had done so before the ten seconds was up, my body was instantly very bouncy, so I managed to spring backward away from them as they brought that hand slamming down into the spot where I had just been with a loud curse.


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    Oh yeah, and Juice had recovered from that temporary blindness by that point. So they were all up and pissed at me. Which was¡­ fun? I really hadn¡¯t thought much further than this. Carefully and quietly taking care of all the wandering thugs and then distracting the big guys long enough for the hostages to escape was basically my plan. Except now I was stuck here facing a couple very pissed off and powerful Fell-Touched, who probably wanted to play table tennis with my head. And I was pretty sure I still wasn¡¯t quite ready to start using new paint yet. This uhh, this could be a problem.


    ¡°Hey guys?¡± I started a little weakly after standing up. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d be interested in a lit-aaahh!¡± That last bit came as the two figures launched themselves at me. I activated the last bit of green paint I had, before launching myself forward in a roll that carried me just underneath their outstretched hands. I was pretty sure the only thing that saved me in that moment was that none of them expected me to move toward them rather than away. Janus had actually been extending their arms, anticipating my retreat. The fact that I moved forward into that diving roll between them caught everyone involved (even me, to an extent considering the terrified screaming some small part of my consciousness was doing) off guard. Before they could recover, I kept going, popping my skates out as I dove down into the pit. My wheels caught the cement ramp partway, and I went rolling halfway up the embankment on the opposite side.


    From the corner of my eyes, I could see Mister Harmful facing me, even as he sent one of their gigantic fists my way, their arm extending a good thirty feet in the process. Just before it would have collided with my very fragile body, I leapt off that side of the concrete embankment, landing sideways on the railing of one of the short bridges people could use to walk over the pit. My skates grinded along that railing while I shouted, ¡°Can we talk about this?!¡±


    Judging from the lightning blast that Juice sent my way, which I barely managed to dodge by dropping off the railing back into the pit, the answer was no. They really did not want to talk. Though maybe they just wanted me to not be able to talk, or breathe for that matter.


    I, on the other hand, quite enjoyed my ability to do both of those things. So I breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling of my paint returning. The tanks were refilled. And none too soon either, as I was barely able to send a shot of red against the cement half-pipe in the distance to pull myself off that spot just before the Janus jerks crashed down right there. They tried to grab my foot, extending their arm after me, but I twisted around in midair and shot a burst of yellow right into their incoming hand. It slowed them down enough that I was able to land. Or rather, hit the cement and rebound off it. Because I¡¯d put blue paint on my shoes right before impact, so it simply launched me upwards and back the way I¡¯d come.


    A thought occurred in that instant, as I went flying back toward Janus, feet-first. Lifting my head, I quickly extended both arms to point toward them. One fired off a shot of red, while the other hit them with green. Both shots of paint hit the same spot simultaneously. Like before, with the rocks, the two colors sort of melded together in a swirl pattern. At the same time, I made the same green-red swirl pattern on the bottom of my shoes, activating all of it together.


    Okay, holy fuck. The world was suddenly a blur as I was hurled that way. The green paint definitely sped up the pull from the red. I went from being yanked in that direction to being shot like a bullet. It also made the red paint immediately vanish, but still. The momentum was already there. I barely had time to start to scream while activating an orange elephant symbol on my back.


    Uncle Friendly, the one who had been facing me, made the faintest noise of disbelief before both of my feet collided with his face. All that momentum I¡¯d built up, from yanking myself one way with red paint, then rebounding backward and up with blue, and finally speeding myself up with that weird green-red combined pull, every last bit of it went into that impact. Even with the orange protection I had, I could still feel it. And they definitely felt it. Janus hit the ground, blood flying from Friendly¡¯s nose and mouth. Not that I had much of a chance to notice, as I landed in an awkward rolling tumble, falling end over end along the concrete before coming to a sprawled heap.


    Boy was I glad for the orange paint. Not to mention my helmet and knee and elbow pads. That definitely hurt. But hey, I had managed to put Janus down, and they weren¡¯t moving very much. Which gave me a chance to just lay there for a second, eyes wide behind my mask and helmet. Holy shit. Holy shit, that was something new. Green made the other paints work faster but also wore them out immediately. That was¨C


    Oh shit there was still¨C A large orange hammer appeared on my chest and reactivated my protection just before a blast of electricity slammed into me. It felt like getting a nasty static shock after rubbing my sock-covered feet on the carpet and grabbing a doorknob. Not fun, but definitely not the kind of damage Juice had clearly been going for. Unfortunately, it was still enough to stun me for a moment. Which gave him a chance to grab me off the ground by the throat, still channeling more electricity into me.


    Spasming as he held me off the ground and squeezed tighter, I tried to grab his hand to pry his fingers off my throat, to no avail. I was pretty sure that even if I painted my entire body purple, it wouldn¡¯t beat his strength. But maybe if I used the new green-boosted-purple? Unfortunately, with the continued shocks running through me, I couldn¡¯t actually focus enough to paint myself properly. Every time I tried to do so, another shock hit me. It still wasn¡¯t doing nearly as much damage as it should have, but the jolt was enough to stop my concentration.


    This could be really bad. I only had a few more seconds of protection before he¡¯d be able to do some real damage. I had to focus, had to force myself to push past the shocks and get¡­ myself¡­


    ¡°Hey, jerk!¡± A voice shouted those two words from the side. As Juice turned his head that way, he was hit in the face by a firehose-like concentrated blast of water. The force, suddenness, and (I was guessing) coldness of it made even him recoil reflexively. His grip on me loosened, just as someone appeared next to me. I felt hands grab my shoulders before I was suddenly a good twenty feet away. Twenty feet north, of course.


    ¡°You okay?¡± Amber, now dressed as That-A-Way, asked as we both pivoted back in time for me to see Izzy, also in her own costume as Raindrop, facing Juice. He¡¯d recovered from the initial shock from that blast of water, and was trying to hit her with an electrical shock. But she had half a dozen park benches and chairs from the audience floating between herself and him, and whenever the man tried to blast her, it was intercepted by one of those obstacles.


    Oh yeah, and Juice¡¯s situation was further complicated by the fact that he was floating up off the ground. Izzy had reversed his gravity, or removed it, or whatever the term was. He was going up, anyway.


    Shaking off the last of the lingering effects of being repeatedly shocked, I started to nod. But before I could say anything, Amber pivoted so she was facing east, while putting herself in front of me. At that moment, Juice shot off another electrical blast, this one in our direction. But Amber was invulnerable in that position, and blocked me from getting hit.


    ¡°You little fucks!¡± the man was shouting while still shooting off one blast after another. ¡°You think you¡¯re hot shit?! You think making me float up here is gonna accomplish anything?! You got no clue, you fucking neurodivergents!¡±


    Except he definitely did not call us neurodivergent. The word he used started with R and should have resulted in whoever his mother was washing his mouth out with about seventeen bars of soap.


    We didn¡¯t have soap. But Izzy had water, and she used it to spray him down thoroughly once more, while he recoiled and spun in the air. Before he could recover from that, she called, ¡°Why do you guys always forget the second half of my name? It¡¯s Rain¨C


    ¡°¨Cdrop.¡± And with that, Izzy must have dramatically increased the amount of gravity on Juice, because he wasn¡¯t floating anymore. He went slamming hard into the cement with enough force to crack it all around him. Even with his enhanced strength, he was out.


    Looking from his unconscious form over to the still-barely moving Janus, I slumped in relief. ¡°Thank God. I am so glad you guys managed to¡­ uh¡­ wait, how did you¡­ you know, change?¡± I kept my voice low.


    Amber, also whispering, replied, ¡°Wobble brought the costumes. He and the others are on the other side of the park, with the rest of your team. There¡¯s more of these guys and a bunch of their lackeys, looking for that Inessa chick. They¡¯re tearing the place apart.¡±


    ¡°I am so confused,¡± I admitted, already starting to move. If the others were still in the middle of a fight, I wanted to be there. ¡°Why the hell are they after some random celebrity skater?!¡±


    Izzy joined us in running that way, while Amber shook her head and replied, ¡°You know what, dude?


    ¡°That¡¯s a really good question!¡±

 Exhibition 25-05

    No answers about why these guys were after Inessa, or where she had disappeared to, presented themselves as Amber, Izzy, and I raced across the park together. Apparently the other main source of fighting was going on near a small baseball field that had been built in the past couple years. There had been a Little League game going on, and the thought of those kids being traumatized and attacked by a bunch of gang members really pissed me off. Seriously, what were these assholes trying to accomplish? Had my family actually approved this? That didn¡¯t make sense. Why would they let something like this happen, no matter how much money was paid? Attacking a Little League game? What the fuck was up with that?


    On the way, I realized that my call with Eits had been disconnected. A surprisingly painful flash of worry shot through me then, but a quick glance at my phone revealed a text from him promising to contact me as soon as he could. He said something about Pack showing up and how they had to do something now that I had Raindrop and That-A-Way for help. And he wished us luck.


    It was taking us a minute to get over there. This wasn¡¯t a small park, to say the least. But it did give me a chance to get filled in on what was going on, and what we were running into.


    Beyond this whole situation, there had apparently been a flare-up of fighting between some of the Easy Eights (or the Fantastic Fives or whatever they were calling themselves now) and Oscuro near one of the old malls. Neither Deicide or Cu¨¦lebre were involved, but things were still pretty heavy, which was what some of the other Star-Touched were dealing with.


    Even worse, it sounded like Jennica had chosen now to make a nuisance of herself as well. She was in one of the police precinct stations, using her control-gems to force several of the cops to attack the others. So my dad and a couple others had to go do something about that. What made it worse was that they apparently had no idea how many of the cops in the station had been affected, or where Jennica herself was at the moment.


    The point was, between those situations and the usual crime around the city, it was taking time for more people to show up here. Which, come to think of it, maybe that was the problem? Maybe my parents expected the hero types to show up and drive these guys off pretty quickly, before there was any real danger, but then this other stuff happened. Hang on, was that the problem? I was completely positive that Jennica didn¡¯t clear any of her criminal activities with the Ministry, so they wouldn¡¯t have known about her plans. And from what Amber and Izzy were saying in those few moments while we were running together, the gang fight by the mall had erupted naturally, just when a few members from each side ran into each other and started a shoving, cursing match. That had escalated into a full brawl including Touched. So yeah, I was definitely willing to bet that this was the only situation that had specific Ministry approval, and likely only because they were supposed to be interrupted and driven off or whatever.


    All those thoughts flashed through my mind in a couple seconds, even as I looked toward the baseball field. Right now, all I could see was a bunch of indistinct shapes, but they were getting larger and more clear with each step. ¡°Tell me what we¡¯re dealing with!¡± I blurted that with a glance toward Amber. I knew Janus and Juice, along with that Devil¡¯s Due guy, had joined up with a brand new gang from out of town. Well, technically they had been recruited by Cu¨¦lebre and then traded to this new gang in exchange for their own Latino Touched. But either way, I had no idea who these other people were.


    Speaking quickly, Amber explained, ¡°Banneret looks like a mix between a medieval knight and a biker! Any inanimate object she touches she can put a mark on that makes that object do what she wants. Any living animal she puts the mark on gets a boost if they¡¯re on her side and a penalty if they¡¯re not. Stronger, weaker, faster, slower, all of it!¡±


    Izzy explained the next one, ¡°Fogwalker¡¯s a lynx TONI. He makes these clouds that¡¯re like air for his friends, but really thick and hard to move in for other people, like Jello! It¡¯s like moving underwater! I mean, what that¡¯s like for most people.¡± She added the last bit a little sheepishly.


    Finally, Amber put in, ¡°Theory and Praxis are the last one!¡± She saw my glance and gestured while we continued running. ¡°They¡¯re like Janus! Two people sharing one body, only there¡¯s just one of them physically present at a time. They shift back and forth!¡±


    Like Fisher and Price, I realized, though I wouldn¡¯t say that out loud. Not out here right now.


    Amber continued. ¡°Theory¡¯s the guy. When he¡¯s out, he¡¯s planning. He¡¯ll look at a situation, figure out what he wants Praxis to do, then switch with her!¡±


    ¡°And what can she do?¡± I called, eyes scanning ahead of us. We were definitely running into a mess. That much was clear. I could see a bunch of people on the ground, though they didn¡¯t look dead. It was like they had hit the ground and were staying there to avoid drawing attention or getting hit. There were also what looked like gang members, armed with a mix of shotguns, pistols, and more melee-oriented weapons, running from group to group. I was pretty sure they were checking their faces. Were they looking for Inessa?


    ¡°Anything!¡± Amber answered, making my eyes glance that way. Her head was nodding. ¡°Within reason! I mean, within Touched reason! If Theory wants her to lift a bus and throw it, she can do that. If he wants her to fly up to the top of a building, she can do that! If he wants her to teleport, she can do that too! She gets powers based on what he plans, and his plans can only last something like thirty seconds or so before they have to switch back again. Once he¡¯s out, he has to focus and plan out what happens next! The more power he wants to give her, the longer it takes. That¡¯s when they¡¯re vulnerable!¡±


    ¡°Could he just say, ¡®I want you to punch that Abyssal and kill it in one hit¡¯ and give her the power to do that?!¡± I demanded. ¡°Cuz I gotta tell you, I¡¯m gonna be really pissed off if that¡¯s a thing they could do!¡±


    ¡°The power isn¡¯t unlimited!¡± Amber called back. ¡°She can get ¡®shot put a tank¡¯ strong, not ¡®punch out an Abyssal¡¯ strong! And she can¡¯t just snap her fingers and kill people or anything. We don¡¯t know what sort of limits there are, only that she¡¯s only got about thirty seconds per ¡®plan¡¯ and she can¡¯t become a god or anything.¡±


    Right, well, that was good to know. I would¡¯ve hated to try to go fight someone who could turn into a god. That didn¡¯t exactly sound like my idea of a good time. Then again, even with their so-called ¡®limitations,¡¯ I was pretty sure this wouldn¡¯t be easy.


    By that point, I could see Whamline, Wobble, and that new Fragile girl. They were facing off with what had to be Banneret. She really did look like a cross between a knight and a biker, with black leather over most of her body, a gleaming silver chestplate, leg and arm guards, and a helmet that looked like both those things at once. It had sort of a medieval design, but was shaped like a motorcycle helmet. The visor was painted on the front to look like a knight¡¯s helmet visor, but was clearly transparent from the inside. She had half a dozen guns, and twice that many knives, all spinning around her, along with a bunch of other random objects that she had clearly taken over. It was all the three Minority members could do to keep up with her. Fragile was using a bunch of glass shards to intercept the incoming knives, or hit the guns to knock them off course. Between that and Whamline¡¯s coils plus Wobble¡¯s vibration waves, the three of them were barely able to avoid being torn apart.


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    I couldn¡¯t see Fogwalker the lynx, but I could definitely tell where he was. There was a thick reddish-gray¡­ well fog over on the infield, stretching about from home plate to just a bit past second base, and covering first as well. I could just barely make out third. Whatever was going on inside that fog, we couldn¡¯t see it. But I was willing to bet that that was where at least some of the Syndicates were. Three of them could be intangible at a time. That had to help with moving through that fog, right?


    I was guessing Carousel was in there too, because I couldn¡¯t see her either. But I could see the person who had to be Theory. He was black, and his costume made him look like a scientist, basically. He had a long white lab coat that was just a bit thicker than it should¡¯ve been, making me figure it was armored in some way. Beyond that, he wore heavy combat boots, cargo pants with a lot of pockets (all of which had random tools, notebooks, and other stuff sticking out of them), and a gray and black checkerboard-pattern plaid shirt. His head was bald, and he wore heavy green-tinted goggles over his eyes and a fairly large portion of his face.


    For a second, I couldn¡¯t tell what he was doing. Not from this distance. Then I realized. He was talking on the phone. His focus was on that, as he turned in a circle while gesturing wildly. It looked like he was yelling on the phone. Whatever was happening here, it wasn¡¯t going perfectly. Probably because they still hadn¡¯t found Inessa.


    And seriously, why the fuck did they all want to find Inessa?!


    Whatever the reason, an answer wasn¡¯t coming immediately. Especially since Theory noticed us. I could almost see his double-take and the way he cursed, still holding the phone. Then he shouted, and I barely caught the word ¡®those guys¡¯ while he gestured our way.


    The thugs who had been going around from civilian to civilian all looked up, before focusing on us. Which meant the good news was that those people weren¡¯t going to be harassed for a bit (or anymore at all, hopefully). The bad news was that now we had trouble, of the ¡®lift their guns and start pointing them at us¡¯ variety.


    ¡°You guys go!¡± I blurted, activating the green and orange paint I had put on Raindrop and That-A-Way while we were running over here. ¡°Help the others with Banneret! I¡¯ll do something about our new friends!¡± Even as I said that, my eyes were scanning for Alloy or any of the others. The last text I¡¯d gotten said they were coming and would be here soon. I just hoped it was soon enough.


    There were seven Prev thugs coming our way. Or rather, my way, once Izzy and Amber took off running toward Banneret and the others. Two of the approaching guys had shotguns, one had a long chain with some sort of blade attached to the end, another had a simple knife, two more had bats, and the last one had a pistol. That last guy was already lining up a shot, but I trusted the orange barbells I just activated on both of my arms to protect me from that. Not that I was going to be sitting idle anyway. Even as he was taking aim and starting to pull the trigger, I sent a shot of red paint that way while activating a bit of blue under my feet to send myself upwards. As the red paint hit his chest, I activated a bit of matching red on the bottom of one of my shoes. I was yanked that way in a Kung Fu-style wirework thirty-foot long jump kick that ended with me colliding with the man foot-first. He hit the ground, having only been able to let off a couple shots, which rebounded off my costume like hurled pebbles.


    At the same time, I put both hands out to either side, hitting the two baseball bats that the nearest guys had with red paint. They were already in mid-swing, but the paint yanked them toward one another rather than into the back of my head. The bats slammed into each other, and before the guys could actually let go, I took advantage of them being right next to each other by slapping the ground at their feet to make a blue circle. And this time I tried something else. Thinking about how I¡¯d mixed white and green as well as red and green, I tried something similar here. First I made a quick empty circle of yellow, then I filled it in with blue and sort of¡­ focused on both being connected. Then I activated them at the same time.


    It worked. The two men were launched into the air, but after they reached the first few feet off the ground, their flight slowed dramatically. They were still flying upward, but it was in slow motion. And more than that, they were flying higher than they normally would have. Like twice as high, actually. The entire effect was slowed down but also extended dramatically. It took them longer to reach the normal height, they went up twice as high anyway so that was even longer, and then they had to come back down. Which was also slowed.


    Well, at least they wouldn¡¯t hurt themselves when they landed. And that little show even worked to distract the other guys here. While they looked that way reflexively, I hit the nearby shotgun with a bit of pink right around the middle of the barrel, while simultaneously activating a set of green wings on my back. With that burst of speed, I reached up to twist the barrel around so he couldn¡¯t fire the gun. Not unless he was very stupid, anyway. Unlike when I used the pink paint on living targets, inanimate objects stayed the way I left them.


    Boy, between this and using the pink paint on that lamp post earlier, I really was turning into a cartoon, wasn¡¯t I?


    The man cursed at me and dropped his weapon while trying to grab my arm. At the same time, the other shotgun guy was trying to slam the butt of that weapon into the side of my helmet. I supposed he didn¡¯t feel great about trying to actually shoot me with it while I was so close to his buddies. Which, of course, was one of my main reasons for closing the distance the way I had.


    So one guy trying to grab my arm and the other trying to hit me with the butt of his shotgun. I certainly wasn¡¯t going to let either of those things happen. Fortunately, I still had the green speed, so I was able to snap my arm out of the first guy¡¯s grasping fingers before using a set of purple dart images across my leg to boost my strength enough to grab his wrist and twist it. He cried out and stumbled, before my foot collided with his knee, making him collapse fully.


    Oh, and the other guy, the one who had been trying to smack me from the side? I did something special for him. First, I made an orange smiley face appear on my helmet, right where he was aiming. The orange face had a blue mouth for a smile, along with blue sunglasses. Blue with orange. I focused on the former feeding into the latter.


    In this case, when the butt of the gun hit that paint, I expected to be protected while the man was knocked away. But that wasn¡¯t what happened. Instead, the instant the impact happened, I was fine, but the man himself jerked his head a little with a yelp of surprise, turning to look behind him. It was like someone had smacked him in the¨C Wait. Oh.


    Right, feeding blue into orange didn¡¯t simply make it repel an object and protect the thing it was on. It protected the thing while also rebounding some of the damage back into the person responsible for it? I was guessing that the amount of damage returned had to do with how much blue I included. Either way, orange paint protected from damage, and blue-infused orange paint sent a portion of that damage back.


    Well, that was sure something. But I didn¡¯t have time to focus on that now. Even as the guy turned his head away from me to see what had popped him, I was lashing out with my elbow into his stomach. It made him double over, before I caught the collar of his shirt and shoved him forward so he crashed into the guy whose leg I had kicked out from under him. They both went down in a tangled heap.


    Before I could focus on the others, one of Alloy¡¯s marbles flew in and transformed into a long, wide bar to slam into them. As I went down, my gaze snapped over and up. Sure enough, the girl herself was there, along with Style and Poise on one side of the long, wide board three of her marbles had turned into, and Calvin and Hobbes on the other side.


    They landed next to me, with Peyton asking, ¡°Hey, are we late?¡±


    In that moment, I caught a glimpse of Theory in his mad scientist getup walking our way. In the mid-step, his body transformed. No, he didn¡¯t transform. He switched places with his partner. Now we were facing a woman in a form-fitting dark blue bodysuit that had a white chest plate and white boots. Her face was covered by a blue mask that covered her entire head, with white lenses over her eyes.


    Just as I took that in, the woman extended her hand and a blast of powerful wind erupted from her palm. It caught our entire group, picking us up and throwing us a good ten or fifteen feet.


    As we hit the ground and rolled, I called, ¡±Nope, I¡¯d say you¡¯re right on time!¡±

 Exhibition 25-06

    It would¡¯ve been nice if I could have called a time-out for a few minutes so I could explain everything that was going on, including the new power tricks I had figured out, to my newly-arrived friends. But something told me the bad guys here weren¡¯t exactly likely to accept something like that. Especially not with the Minority people still in the middle of fighting those other two. To say nothing of how many random mooks they had helping them. Thanks to the flurry of chaotic motion, water, random bits of flying glass, and flailing energy coils, I couldn¡¯t see how Fragile, Whamline, Wobble, Raindrop, and That-A-Way¡¯s fight against Banneret and the goons helping her was going. And it was completely impossible to have any idea of what was going on with Carousel and Syndicate with Fogwalker.


    Unfortunately, we couldn¡¯t check on them any more than we could call a time-out. Poise, Style, Calvin, Hobbes, Alloy, and I had our own immediate problem, in the form of Theory and Praxis, and their own thugs. I¡¯d taken several of them down, and Alloy knocked down more with her arrival. But more were showing up, and they did not look happy.


    That wind blast from Praxis had knocked all of us flying, scattering our group across the grass. And even as I scrambled back to my feet, my eyes caught sight of the woman holding one hand out toward where Poise, Hobbes, and I were, while the other was pointed more toward the other three. My mouth opened to blurt a warning, just before twin blasts of wind tore into us. I tried to brace myself, but it didn¡¯t help. Once again, we were picked up and thrown, tumbling end over end under the sustained barrage of wind. On the way, while I was crashing and rolling along the grass, I tried to shoot a bit of red paint toward the woman. Honestly, the mere fact that I could aim at her in the midst of that was pretty crazy. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t help. My paint was caught by her wind and tossed aside, scattering into useless droplets across the grass behind me.


    Okay, so I couldn¡¯t shoot her with paint. But I could use it on myself. While the wind continued to throw me, I focused on making red paint appear on my hands and knees, then put more of it directly under me on the ground and activated all of it. The paint yanked me down and held me in place against the force of that rushing hurricane-like air. Thanks to the visor of my helmet, I was able to look that way without the wind tearing into my eyes. I could see Praxis focusing even more of her power on me, trying to force me to go flying again. But my paint held firm. To one side, I could see Alloy shielding herself, Calvin, and Style with a low wall made out of a couple of her marbles. Poise and Hobbes, meanwhile, were crouched behind a heavy tree. Even that was bowing sideways against the force of the wind. Most of the leaves were gone, and even a few branches had snapped off to fly away along the grass. I was afraid the whole thing was going to be torn out of the ground any second.


    Fortunately, Praxis¡¯s power didn¡¯t last forever. After those thirty seconds (which honestly seemed like a hell of a lot longer than that in the heat of the moment), the wind died down. She immediately shifted back to Theory, with his lab coat and goggles. Which we would¡¯ve taken advantage of, but the instant that happened, a handful of those armed thugs took up position in front of him and opened fire with an assortment of guns. It happened so smoothly that I was pretty sure they had training and practice with jumping in to cover their boss while he took the time to set up new plans and powers for his partner. Which made sense. Of course they would¡¯ve compensated for that sort of weakness.


    Seeing those goons jumping into position with their weapons raised, I quickly triggered an orange bullseye symbol across my chest, just before those first few bullets hit my arm and shoulder. It stung a bit, but I ignored that and scrambled to my feet. The others were protected by Alloy¡¯s wall and that tree. But we still had to move quickly. Any second now, Theory was going to finish making his ¡®plan¡¯ and bring Praxis back out with a new power. The wind had been bad enough, I really didn¡¯t want to think about what other dangerous shit she might come out with now that they were even more pissed off and had seen how we could defend against that wind. I had a feeling that whatever they came out with next would be even more dangerous, and very different.


    To stop that, I planted blue under my feet and launched myself forward and up while shouting, ¡°Rebound!¡± toward Alloy.


    Thanks to all the talks we¡¯d had, she immediately knew what to do, positioning one of her marbles in a flat, wall-like shape in the air above me. It was angled just a bit toward the group of bad guys. Just before hitting it, I sent a new shot of blue that way while inverting myself in the air. My feet hit that spot, and the blue circle launched me off it like I was a ping-pong ball, sending me straight toward the gathered group. They were still trying to adjust to my rapid movements, most of their shots flying past me.


    The plan was for me to crash into Theory and take him down before he could bring out Praxis with new powers. Unfortunately, just before I would¡¯ve hit the man with that flying tackle after rebounding off the marble wall, one of his minions threw himself in the way. I collided with that guy instead, and we went tumbling head over heels. I could hear him yelp and curse in pain.


    Seriously, these guys were both trained enough to immediately cover their bosses weakness, and loyal enough to throw some selves into the path of my flying body? How much were they being paid? Would it seem weird if I asked this guy if I could top it?


    While those thoughts were flying through my mind, I activated a purple unicorn shape on my arm before slamming my elbow into this guy¡¯s face. His head snapped down into the ground, leaving him dazed for the moment.


    Meanwhile, from the corner of one eye, I could see Style driving her foot into the back of one guy¡®s knee from behind while he was focused on me. Her hand caught the back of his neck as he started to stumble, and slammed his head forward into another guy¡¯s temple as that one spun to see what was going on. Beside her, Calvin quickly dropped down next to the two fallen figures and snapped a pair of handcuffs on each of them to keep their hands trapped behind their backs.


    By that point, I managed to roll backwards off of the guy who had thrown himself between Theory and me. My foot lashed out to catch his chin as he started to blearily lift his head, putting him back down for the moment.


    Now that I was up and facing the other way, I could see Poise step smoothly between two guys while catching their extended arms as they aimed their weapons my way. Before they could react, she swung their captured arms around so the pistols in their hands slammed into one another¡¯s faces hard enough to make them stagger backward. The guns fell, and Poise caught them in mid-drop, pivoting while firing one shot from each into the two men¡¯s feet. In the exact same motion, as she continued pivoting, her foot came up to kick each of them in the face, one after the other, while they started to collapse from being shot in the foot.


    In the span of about two seconds, these guys had both gone from pointing their weapons at me, to having their arms grabbed, guns slammed into each other¡¯s face, shot in the feet, and then kicked in the face in the exact same spot their own guns had hit. Needless to say, they both hit the ground and didn¡¯t seem that interested in getting back up.


    Alloy and Hobbes were also doing something, but I didn¡¯t have the chance to see what it was. After all, I was still standing in the middle of a large group of bad guys, who were reacting to my arrival by taking quick aim. They weren¡¯t quite aware of what was going on to the guys on the outskirts, and it would take another couple seconds for the others to reach me. Seconds I wouldn¡¯t have before these guys opened fire.


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    Luckily, I had a plan for that. I just hoped it would actually work. Even as I was taking in what Paige was doing, I had been painting a new symbol across my chest, of a sword stretching from my waist up to my neck. At the same time, my hands snapped out to send a thin spray of paint at the semi-circle of thugs in front of me. They all recoiled reflexively, likely expecting to be yanked together or sent flying. But this time, it wasn¡¯t red or blue. Each of them was hit, much to their probable confusion, by a tiny bit of the orange paint. It wasn¡¯t much at all, just a thin line across each of them. They were clearly confused, yet didn¡¯t waste time trying to figure it out. Instead, they opened fire.


    And that was their big mistake, because by that point, I had activated the paint I had put on my torso in that sword shape. The blade itself was orange, while the handle was pink. Praying that this would actually work, I had fed the pink power into the orange before immediately canceling it.


    Normally, when I canceled the pink paint early, it made the spot that it was affecting very bouncy. Unfortunately, it only affected the actual spot it was touching, unlike the rest of my paints, which affected a larger area. Like, in this case, the orange paint, which would protect my entire body. But if I could use my newfound ability to combine my paint into new effects¡­


    It worked. The temporary bounciness from the early-canceled pink paint fed into the protection from the orange. As these guys opened fire, their bullets rebounded off me much faster than they would¡¯ve with just the orange protection. They went flying back the way they¡¯d come. And since these guys were directly in their path, they ended up basically shooting themselves.


    That, of course, was why I had hit them with orange paint, so I wouldn¡¯t turn into a killer. I didn¡¯t give them enough to completely protect them, just enough that the bullets wouldn¡¯t slaughter them. It was still obviously like being hit by dozens of baseballs or whatever. Enough that the assembled group in front of me hit the ground, cursing and groaning in pain. They had no idea what had just happened, only that they started to shoot me, and had suddenly been hit by a bunch of stinging pellets that would leave pretty solid bruises and possibly even a few broken bones. But hey, at least I didn¡¯t let them actually take the full damage from being shot?


    I didn¡¯t have time to think too much about that. I was already pivoting to catch sight of Theory so I could take him down. Unfortunately, just as my eyes fell on him, his form shifted again. Now he was gone and Praxis was back, with that same dark blue bodysuit and mask with white chestplate, boots, and eye lenses. Her powers, however, were obviously very different. A fact that was made rather obvious as she extended her arm, with electricity coiling around her finger. She sent it flying toward me, while I flinched reflexively. Thankfully, while the bouncy part of the canceled pink paint had gone away, the actual orange was still active. So I wasn¡¯t completely destroyed by that shot of lightning. It still shocked me a bit, yet I was able to throw myself that way through the crackling line of electricity.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I blurted while catching her extended wrist. I¡¯d already activated a couple purple dagger shapes along my legs for added strength so I could yank her off balance. ¡°Didn¡¯t you know I already fought an electricity guy a few minutes ago?! You¡¯re supposed to vary things up so the audience doesn¡¯t get bored!¡±


    She was still trying to shock me, even as I kept hold of her arm. I could feel the electricity pouring into me, making my body spasm and jerk a bit out of my control. But, through sheer force of will, I kept my hands on her while rearing back to kick the woman in the stomach. I just had to hit her hard enough to make her stop trying to electrocute me before my protection wore off.


    Unfortunately, her new powers apparently weren¡¯t limited only to shooting electricity. Just as my foot passed through the spot she had been in, the woman vanished with a burst of lightning and clap of thunder. I stumbled off balance, hearing another burst of thunder a short distance away, somewhere behind me.


    Pivoting quickly, I saw her appear behind Alloy, hitting the girl with a quick shot of electricity that knocked her to the ground, twitching and crying out.


    Poise was right there, already taking aim with one of the pistols she had stripped from those guys. Before she could fire, another burst of electricity shot from the other woman¡¯s finger. Thankfully, Paige managed to throw herself into a sideways roll, letting it go right over her head. Belatedly, I realized that she had been acting as a distraction, giving Style a chance to hit the woman from the side. But just as she would have crashed into her, another lightning bolt appeared and Praxis was gone, leaving Sierra to crash into the ground where she had been an instant earlier.


    That time, she reappeared near Hobbes and tried to grab her, hands crackling with power. But Hobbes reacted faster, hand already extended toward Calvin as she snapped her fingers and activated the suit¡¯s teleportation power. It was Praxis¡¯s turn to have her plans foiled by someone vanishing right in front of her.


    Before anyone else could move, a voice shouted over the sound of fighting, ¡°Praxis!¡± It was¡­ Fogwalker, who was, as promised, a lynx. A gray-furred lynx with black spots, with some sort of metal collar around its neck. The animal was perched just on the very edge of the cloud of fog he had created. Fog that Carousel and Syndicate were apparently still trapped in.


    ¡°Time to go!¡± the lynx TONI called toward Praxis. When he spoke again, the voice was clearly coming from the collar itself. Apparently he wasn¡¯t one of those that could speak normally. It always seemed weird that some ended up with the power to talk and others didn¡¯t. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have a chance to wonder about that too much, as Fogwalker added, ¡°Target¡¯s near the west exit!¡±


    Without a word of question or protest, Praxis vanished in another burst of lightning. A couple more followed as she appeared next to Fogwalker before disappearing with him. Then she did the same with Banneret, who was still fighting the others. Her time with that power had to be about to run out, but it didn¡¯t happen before all three of them were gone.


    The fog vanished almost immediately, and I could see all four Syndicates alongside Carousel, staggering suddenly as they could finally see where they were. Meanwhile, Whamline, Wobble, Raindrop, and That-A-Way were spinning around to look for where their own opponent had gone. They were also moving slowly and clumsily, practically falling over as though they were very thoroughly drunk. That was obviously thanks to the assortment of those small, flag-like marks over their bodies, courtesy of Banneret. The weapons she had taken over with more of her markings had all hit the ground together the instant she disappeared.


    ¡°Hey, what the fuck?!¡± That was Whamline, almost falling over as the marking slowing him down vanished and he went back to normal speed. ¡°Where¡¯d that bitch go?!¡± Belatedly, he glanced toward Raindrop and Fragile before sheepishly amending, ¡°Sorry, I mean, what happened?¡±


    One of the Syndicates managed to orient himself and look back and forth between our group and the rest of their team. ¡°Everybody okay?¡±


    Alloy, picking herself up from the ground after being hit by that electrical blast, grunted, ¡°Fine, just peachy. Wait, is it over?¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°No!¡± I shouted despite myself. ¡°They¡¯re still after Inessa Sidorov! And they found her by the west exit!¡± I was already trying to orient myself that way to start running, even though I wasn¡¯t sure what good it would do. Not with that group being able to teleport. Yet even as that thought filled my mind, I saw the other group. Or rather, Fogwalker and Theory. The two of them were running past a nearby basketball court. They hadn¡¯t teleported all the way to their target after all. Apparently Praxis¡¯s teleportation had been strictly line of sight, and now it would take time for Theory to give his partner another transportation power. Time that we could hopefully take advantage of. Where Banneret was, I had no idea. But there wasn¡¯t time to think about that. Not when Theory could finish charging up new powers for Praxis any moment.


    ¡°There!¡± I was pointing while starting to move. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta stop them before they can teleport again!¡±


    The others were already moving to follow me, our combined teams starting to chase after the departing trio. But, of course, there were still the remaining Prev goons, who had pulled themselves together and were moving to intercept us. Worse, now we knew where Banneret was. Namely, right there in the middle of the assorted thugs, several of whom she had already applied boosting powers to.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this!¡± one of the Syndicates blurted, before looking at me. ¡°Take your team and go, stop those two! We¡¯ll handle these guys.¡±


    So, we split up. Alloy created another board for our team to hop on top of, before it flew open over the heads of Banneret and her minions. They tried to aim up at us, but the Minority hit them from below, taking their attention and giving us the chance to fly after the other two.


    ¡°Why the hell are they so obsessed with going after this skater chick anyway?!¡± Murphy shouted from her crouched position as she clung to the handle Peyton had created for us.


    My head shook quickly. ¡°Dude, I¡¯ve got no idea!


    ¡°But something tells me we really don¡¯t want it to happen!¡±

 Exhibition 25-07

    I was trying very hard not to think about the fact that I was leaving Izzy, Amber, and the others behind to fight a bunch of bad guys who were boosted by Banneret. They could handle it, right? I wasn¡¯t going to come back later and find out that¨C


    Fuck, stop it. Stop thinking about that. There was nothing else that we could do. The other bad guys were still after Inessa for whatever reason (and boy was I going to ask questions about that as soon as the opportunity presented itself). We couldn¡¯t just leave her high and dry, so we¡¯d had to split up. It was the best¨Conly choice we¡¯d had.


    And yet, none of those thoughts stopped me from worrying while gripping the handle on the marble-board tightly. Peyton was sending it as fast as she could across the park, toward the west exit. On the way, I did my best to distract myself by giving the others a quick rundown about what Fogwalker and Theory/Praxis¡¯s deals were. Obviously, on the latter all I could do was say ¡®try to stop them when Theory is out,¡¯ which wasn¡¯t much. I just felt repeated waves of confusion and trepidation about this whole thing. Why were they so intent on grabbing Inessa? This wasn¡¯t just an ordinary kidnapping of a celebrity, was it? There were much better targets than her. As much as she might¡¯ve been my hero, I knew she was relatively minor as far as that went. And this wasn¡¯t just a small operation. They had at least five Touched here along with all these Prev troops. It would¡¯ve been completely insane for all of this to just be for kidnapping one minor-to-moderate celebrity. So what the hell was actually going on? I still had no idea.


    None of the others were any closer to an answer either. At least not in the brief time we had while soaring just above the trees, our eyes frantically scanning for any sign of our quarry. We were just going to have to deal with this first before finding out why it was happening. And seriously, where the hell were these guys?! They had been just ahead of us before. But obviously, Praxis was back out with another transportation power. Did that mean we were too late? Did they already have¨Cfuck, no. That wasn¡¯t helpful either. Just keep looking, they had to be somewhere around¨C


    ¡°There!¡± It was Calvin, the boy shifting his weight a bit as he continued gripping the handle with one hand so he could point off to the left side with the other. ¡°Over by the tennis courts!¡±


    He was right. Even as my gaze snapped that way, I could see another group of those Prev thugs swarming over the courts, which were set next to one of the large restrooms. The full brick and mortar building type in this case, rather than the line of port-a-potties that had been over by the skating area. There was a sidewalk leading out of the restrooms and over to the courts, before it split off to head back deeper into the park or over the lot where several cars were parked.


    For a second, I didn¡¯t see Theory, Praxis, or Fogwalker. Or any sign of the latter¡¯s power. Then there was a loud bang, just as we flew far enough to see the front of the restroom. Praxis was there, having just ripped one of the apparently locked metal doors off. It crumpled in her grip before she tossed it over her shoulder and barged inside, shouting something I couldn¡¯t make out. Fuck, fuck, was Inessa in there? Were they about to take her?


    Not on my watch. Without wasting another second, I blurted for the others to follow while hitting them with a quick spray of orange just in case. Then I dove over the side of the board, using a bit of blue at the last second to launch myself out and forward. I could see my target ahead, a skylight in the top of the building. There were two, one for each restroom. I was aiming for the one on the side Praxis had just gone into. And I wasn¡¯t satisfied with my normal falling speed. Instead, I shot two bits of red to either side of the skylight and activated those along with red spots on my boots. Just as I started being yanked that way, I also activated a pair of long green lightning bolts along most of my legs. Between the green boost, the red yanking me that way, and my normal falling speed, I rocketed toward that building. At the last second, I canceled the red pull and tucked my arms against my chest while using an orange dumbbell symbol across my chest and a matching one taking up most of my back to make sure I didn¡¯t go splat.


    Please don¡¯t die, please don¡¯t die, please don¡¯t die!


    Was I talking to myself or Inessa? I had no idea, but the advice was probably good for both of us.


    An instant later, I hit the window and the glass shattered underneath the impact. If I hadn¡¯t been protected by the orange paint, I would¡¯ve been cut to ribbons. Not that it would¡¯ve mattered, because if I didn¡¯t have the orange paint, I would¡¯ve died about a nanosecond later once I hit the floor of the restroom. It was cement, which cracked a bit under the force of my landing.


    I didn¡¯t consciously take the time to look around and actively take in anything about the environment other than ¡®inside a restroom with a cement floor.¡¯ And yet, I instinctively knew the doorway was six feet ahead of me and one foot to the right, there were four stalls to my left, and a couple urinals to the right, with two sinks to the left of the doorway against the same wall as the stalls. I knew all of that without thinking about it. The information was just there in my head.


    Even as I hit the ground in a crouch (feeling a wave of pain run through my legs despite the paint), I could already see my target ahead of me. Praxis was slower than me for the moment, her gaze still raised as she had reflexively looked up at the sound of the glass shattering. She was starting to lower her head to bring me into her vision, but I was faster. A shot of red paint hit her front, while I sent another one behind me toward the wall. In the next second, she saw me, and raised her hand. But I was already diving forward and down into a roll while activating that red paint. Instantly, the woman was yanked off her feet and went flying over my body as I rolled under her. She slammed into the far wall, cursing up a storm.


    For a brief, happy moment, I thought I had a good ten seconds where the paint would hold her. But no sooner was I back on my feet, than the woman slammed both fists into that wall, punching two holes into it. She was going to rip that part of the wall apart within a couple seconds, and then it wouldn¡¯t be able to hold her.


    Or she would have. To slow that down, I shot the woman with a blotch of yellow paint across her back. She couldn¡¯t move as quickly, so she couldn¡¯t punch as hard. Then I hit the wall itself with orange to protect it. There, that should hold her for¨C


    She wasn¡¯t there anymore. Theory was. But he wasn¡¯t stuck to the wall, because his body hadn¡¯t been hit with paint. Nor was he slowed down, which he demonstrated by immediately spinning toward me with a gun raised, and my green speed boost had worn off right then. Fortunately, I still had another second or two of orange time left for protection. But the thing didn¡¯t fire bullets. Instead, I was hit by a concussive blast that sent me flying through the open doorway. In mid-flight, just as I reached the outside, I managed to activate a yellow parachute design across most of my torso and down my legs. It slowed me down enough that I could flip over in the air, sending red shots toward either side of the doorway, and yank myself back that way. As soon as I was going back the right direction, I canceled the yellow paint to get my speed back.


    Theory had turned back toward the bathroom stalls as I rocketed back into the restroom. I saw him spin back toward me, raising that gun again. But before he could do anything with it, Poise appeared, standing right on the edge of that now-shattered skylight I had gone through. She saw me, saw the man with the gun raised, then dropped down onto him, taking him to the ground under the weight of the impact. A second later, I landed on one knee next to them.


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    That should have been the end of it, by all rights. Unfortunately, the second Paige brought the asshole to the floor, he vanished. Praxis was back, but she wasn¡¯t underneath the other girl. Instead, she had reappeared about two feet back, in a standing position. Before Paige or I could react to that, the woman caught hold of both of us, one with each hand, and hurled us forward into what remained of the same wall I had red painted her to a few seconds earlier. We both hit the wall together, and I was really glad I had my helmet. Even then, I was going to be heavily bruised after all this.


    There was a loud clanging sound behind us, and I twisted my head back just in time to see Praxis rip one of the stall doors off. She glanced inside, apparently saw nothing, then pivoted to swing the whole door at the two of us. But Paige had recovered by then too, and both of us dropped to the floor, letting the thing slam into the wall just above our heads.


    By that point, Style had arrived as well. I didn¡¯t know where the others were, but she came through the open doorway behind Praxis while she was still in mid-swing with that door and launched herself into a kick at the woman¡¯s back. It didn¡¯t actually do much. Strong as my doppelganger was in her biolem body, Praxis was currently an order of magnitude stronger. It did, however, draw her attention. The woman spun that way, throwing a punch that was actually quick enough to catch Sierra across the face (or rather, the visor part of the military-style tactical helmet she was wearing). Fortunately for Sierra, the other woman¡¯s super strength had apparently worn off somewhere between the time that Sierra kicked her and when that punch landed. Because her hand just bounced off, and Praxis blurted a sharp, pained curse.


    Paige and I were both back on our feet and turned that way by then, while Sierra went to grab the woman¡¯s arm. But even without active powers, Praxis wasn¡¯t helpless. Her uninjured hand extended, and I caught a glimpse of some sort of silver bracelet on her wrist, just before it sent out a blast of concussive force similar to the one Theory¡¯s gun had hit me with. But Sierra was quick enough to pivot out of the way, so the blast went over her head and took out a chunk of the door frame behind her.


    Paige and I both moved to grab the woman¡¯s arms, even as Sierra continued her pivot and came back around to kick her in the stomach. But all of us missed. Primarily because the woman wasn¡¯t there anymore. She was gone and Theory was back. Like before, he didn¡¯t appear in the same spot Praxis had been in, which I hadn¡¯t even known was an option until a few moments earlier, and still felt like cheating. Either way, the man popped into view a bit to Sierra¡¯s left, and already had his gun raised that way. But before he could pull the trigger, Paige had already recovered from missing her attempt to catch Praxis¡¯s arm and instead lashed out with a kick. Her foot hit his wrist, sending his aim off to pulverize one of the other stalls.


    And then I saw her. Inessa was there, crouched in a corner of that now-demolished stall. She had barely avoided having her head taken off by that blast. Theory saw her too and started to turn that way, but both Sierra and Paige jumped over and got to him before he could do anything. Both of their fists collided with his head, dazing the man briefly and hopefully preventing him from switching places for the moment. Together, they caught his arms and shove-threw him out the doorway as hard as they could.


    ¡°Get her out of here!¡± Paige blurted at me, just as she and Sierra went through the doorway after Theory.


    Wait, yeah, good idea. Pivoting back to where my idol was, I shoved all questions and confusion out of my head (along with the urge to giggle stupidly when I saw her), and just reached out to grab her arms. ¡°Sorry, Miss Sidorov,¡± I blurted, ¡°but we¡¯ve gotta go!¡± Before she could respond, I activated purple hammers along both of my arms to help her get up. Then I wrapped my arms around her (stop thinking about that, Cassidy) and planted a blue puddle under our feet. But not just any blue puddle. First I made an empty circle of green, like I had done with the empty circle of yellow earlier. Then I filled it in with blue and allowed the former to feed into the latter.


    Yeah, when I activated that thing, we were rocketed out of the restroom and through the broken skylight. It was a good thing the glass was all gone by that point (crunched into tiny shards under our feet throughout the room below) because we went up through the hole like we had been shot out of a cannon.


    And this time, I wasn¡¯t the only one giving a loud whoop of delight. Inessa¡¯s rang through my ears as we soared high up, reaching a spot maybe ten or twelve feet above the roof of the restroom. Then I activated a yellow parachute ship I had put on both my back and Inessa¡¯s as my arms were wrapped around her. That slowed our fall just enough that I could look around quickly. And I finally saw what was keeping the others busy. Alloy, Calvin, and Hobbes were dealing with those guys we had seen on the tennis courts. Or keeping them occupied, at the very least. Which explained why they hadn¡¯t come rushing to their boss¡¯s aid.


    After taking that in, I used red and orange paint to get Inessa and myself to the ground as far from the courts and restrooms as I could manage. We landed safely in the grass about seventy feet away, both of us dropping into rolls to deal with the momentum before popping back to our feet. She was slightly quicker about it than I was, which really said a lot about how amazing she¨C


    Later, Cassidy.


    Right, we knew where the Prev troops were, and Paige and Sierra were keeping Theory and Praxis busy for the moment. Hopefully they wouldn¡¯t give Theory the time he needed to set up a new power. I still wasn¡¯t sure exactly how she¡¯d kept the super strength for a few more seconds after switching with him that one time, but maybe it gave her a little more time if she ended early or¨Cwhatever, there wasn¡¯t time to think about it. Right now, I just had to figure out how to get Inessa out of¨C


    Darkness enveloped me, cutting off my vision almost entirely. I could barely see a few inches in front of my face. And it wasn¡¯t just darkness. It felt like being underwater without actually being wet. The air was literally thick. This cloud that had appeared slowed my motions, slowed everything. It felt like my thoughts were slowed down.


    Oh, right, this would be Fogwalker. I had forgotten about him for just a second. And now the two of us were caught in his power. I grabbed Inessa¡¯s arm, looking around quickly. Not that it helped. I could still sense every object around us. I knew where the trees and bushes were within the vicinity, and even knew exactly where the edge of the restroom building and tennis courts were in the distance. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t really help me know where the Touched lynx was. And to be honest, the idea of one of those things prowling through this fog toward me really¨Cyeah it wasn¡¯t fun.


    Thinking quickly, I released Inessa, stepping in front of her while covering my upper torso and helmet with a mix of pink and blue paints. The former fed into the latter as I activated them. Then prayed that Fogwalker would make his move soon enough. And asked myself just what sort of insane person hoped that a basically-invisible superpowered lynx would jump at them within the next ten seconds. Why would I do that?


    Because it was better than the fucking thing doing it in eleven seconds, that¡¯s why.


    The lynx was so quiet, I didn¡¯t hear it approach until the very last second. A slight rustling on the grass was my only warning. Then the full weight of that oversized cat crashed into me, knocking me backwards and down. And yet, under that impact, my entire pink-blue-painted torso sort of collapsed in on itself. It felt really weird, the way my whole chest seemed to turn into an accordion. And no sooner had Fogwalker hit me, than my torso snapped immediately back to the way it was supposed to be, catapulting Fogwalker away from me. I heard his panicked and confused yowl as the big cat went flying away from me with several times more force than he¡¯d actually hit me with in the first place. In the distance, I could hear him crash into the dirt with another yelp.


    Quickly canceling the paint, I grabbed Inessa¡¯s hand again and started running. Well, as close to running as we could get in this stupid fog. ¡°Come on!¡± I shouted her way. ¡°Trust me!¡±


    Thankfully, she didn¡¯t argue, and the two of us were soon ¡®sprinting¡¯ (if you could call it that) together through pitch black fog. I directed her around bushes, avoided a few random statues, pulled her away from a tree, and overall just kept running as fast as we could in the fog. We just had to reach the edge of Fogwalker¡¯s power, and then¨C


    We hit open air and sunlight just in time for an invisible force to pick me up and throw me up against the nearest tree. My back hit it hard enough to make me flinch.


    Praxis, of course. She was there, panting heavily while clearly glaring at me. Her hand was extended, using what was obviously a telekinesis power to keep me pinned against the tree. ¡°No¡­ more¡­¡± she managed through hard breaths. ¡°She¡¯s coming with us.¡±


    My eyes were scanning the area around us in a panic, but there was no one else in sight. No one here to help out. Everyone was busy, or hurt, or¡­ or¡­


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be such a bitch about this. I mean, come on, your brother made a lot of fun toys,¡± Praxis was saying, her gaze laser-focused on Inessa. ¡°And now all of it¡¯s just sitting there, all sad and alone while he¡¯s stuck on Breakwater.¡±


    Wait¡­ wait¡­


    What?!

 Exhibition 25-08

    Inessa¡¯s brother was a Tech-Touched? And a villain?! And he was on Breakwater?!


    I¡­ I didn¡¯t know any of that.


    While I was still reeling from the words, Inessa hissed, ¡°I am not going with you.¡± She was picking herself up from the grass where she¡¯d stumbled. ¡°As I have told everyone else, I will die before I allow you to use me to open that vault.¡±


    Open a vault? Wait, what?


    Praxis continued. ¡°I hate to be rude, especially to someone I¡¯ve enjoyed watching as much as you. But yes, you are. The only way into that vault of his is with his DNA. Which you have. So you¡¯re coming with us. And we¡¯re gonna have ourselves an early Christmas.¡±


    ¡°We would have waited until after your little show so this wasn¡¯t so public.¡± That was the voice of Fogwalker. The Touched Lynx was stalking closer as he continued. ¡°But it turns out you¡¯ve been a busy beaver. What is it, one more test before you shut down your connection to that vault?¡±


    Praxis made a show of exhaling in relief. ¡°Good thing we got here in time! How rude would it have been if you and your friend managed to finish your little experiments? Then nobody would be able to get into that vault.¡±


    Inessa¡¯s head was shaking wildly. ¡°That¡¯s the point! Nobody should be able to use those weapons!¡±


    Wait¡­ wait¡­ my mind was spinning out. But still, pieces were clicking into place. Inessa also had a connection to a thing full of dangerous stuff that would only open for her DNA, just like Errol with that safe that the Scions had. In this case, her brother¡¯s vault. But she was trying to do something to make it so she couldn¡¯t open the vault anymore, and they were almost successful. That was why she was being put up at the Foster¡¯s house. Whether she knew or not, I had no idea. But that was it. She was here so they could find out more about those experiments or something. They probably wanted to remove Errol¡¯s connection to the safe so he couldn¡¯t be used to open it.


    That was¡­ that was positive, right? If they were going through all this rather than just killing him, that was good. It meant my family weren¡¯t the type to just execute a little kid like that.


    Even as I had that thought, my brain pointed out that they might also want to use that research to transfer control of the safe so they could control all the people Overseer had made puppets out of. I didn¡¯t even know if that was possible, but it still occurred to me. Was I just being too cynical?


    I had no idea, and it honestly didn¡¯t matter right this second. What mattered was making sure these guys didn¡¯t manage to kidnap Inessa and make her open that other vault, wherever it was. We could deal with the rest of that later.


    To that end, I realized that I was no longer feeling the invisible pressure against my chest. I had been lowered to the ground and was just standing there against the tree. Praxis¡¯s telekinesis power had faded. But we weren¡¯t exactly home free. She had her arm with that concussive force bracelet pointed my way, and Fogwalker had moved right up to one side of me, ready to pounce if I moved.


    When I looked around once more, desperate to find help, I realized why no one had come to us yet. Fogwalker had created clouds of darkness all around us. We were basically in the eye of the storm, a small pocket area that was open. I had no idea how far his fog stretched, but it was enough to stop anyone from finding where we were any time soon.


    Okay, so I had to deal with this myself. With two (or three depending on how you were counting) different powerful Fell-Touched watching my every move, I had to get Inessa out of here before they used her to open that vault and get a bunch of apparently incredibly dangerous weapons. Great, just fantastic. One wrong move and this whole thing was going to blow up in my face.


    In that second, Praxis was replaced with Theory, pointing his gun my way while using his other hand to dig inside that lab coat. He produced a bracelet of some kind and tossed it toward Inessa. ¡°Put that on so we can get out of here, unless you want to see your little savior¡¯s brains get blown out the back of that helmet. This thing was turned low before. It¡¯s not anymore.¡±


    Okay, Okay, think about this. What was I going to do? Inessa was fumbling with the bracelet. I had no idea what it was actually going to do, but clearly if she put it on, this was over. If I was going to stop this, I had to do something right now. Especially considering Theory was out now and was probably setting up a new power for Praxis that would fuck us all over even more.


    Through the past few seconds, I had been painting new designs on the inside of my costume. I was pretty sure these two were watching for any paint, but they were too new to realize I could put it on the inside instead of just the outside. They thought they had me covered just by watching my front and back, and I was going to use that assumption against them. It was my only shot.


    I could see the look on Inessa¡¯s face as she glanced at me. She didn¡¯t want to put on the bracelet, and certainly didn¡¯t want to let these guys get into the vault with her brother¡¯s weapons. But she also didn¡¯t want to let me get my brains blown out, which I appreciated. Still, as she moved to put the thing on her wrist, I knew I was out of time. I had to do this now.


    Praying that I had the right idea about my new combined paint tricks, I had made one of my arms and both legs a mix of purple and pink. That was on the skin and the inside of my clothing. Meanwhile, I had orange and green designs across most of the rest of my body. I activated all of it at once, and instantly lashed out with both hands. My right hand went down and back toward Fogwalker, and as my palm hit the lynx¡¯s face, I activated the blue and green circle I had put there. Instantly, he was launched away from me, flying off like I¡¯d shot him from a cannon, his yowl filling the air. At the same time, my other arm (the one that was painted pink and purple) snapped forward, extending in the process. The pink part of the paint made it stretchy, and the purple meant I was strong enough to make it snap outward like that just by making a throwing motion. The arm stretched a good fifteen feet, clear across the distance between Theory and me. He fired off a shot, but with the green paint active, I had time to shove myself upward. That was where the purple and pink paint on my legs came in. Suddenly, it was like I was standing on stilts. My legs extended a good ten feet into the air. They would¡¯ve been way too thin to support my weight like that, given how much they were pulled like taffy in the process. But the purple meant I could stand like that.


    The shot blew a hole in the tree right between my now-extended legs. At the same moment, I managed to catch hold of that gun with my extended hand and ripped it out of his grasp. My voice rose to a shout, directed toward Inessa. ¡°Don¡¯t put it on!¡±


    Fogwalker was recovering, and I saw the darkness start to close in around me. Meanwhile, Theory had vanished and was replaced with Praxis. They were ready to use whatever power he gave her, and I was pretty sure I didn¡¯t want to know what it was.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Taking three green-speed boosted steps forward on my ridiculously long legs (seriously, I was a good thirteen to fourteen feet tall by that point and felt like a giant for the first time in my life) I grabbed Inessa around the waist with one arm, which wrapped around her like a tentacle or something. Yeah, it was weird, but I didn¡¯t have time to apologize. Even as Praxis was turning my way, hand rising to point, I activated the blue-mixed-with-green circles I had put on the bottom of my shoes. Instantly, I was launched upward with Inessa in tow.  Something, an energy blast or whatever, passed through the area where I had just been. But we were already rocketing into the air. We went into the dark cloud and my vision was cut off entirely, but that didn¡¯t matter. I knew exactly where we were. I could sense a huge tree about a hundred feet or so to my left, and hit that with a red shot of paint, using another bit on my glove and wrist to yank both of us in that direction.


    A second later, we were out of the fog. The sunlight returned with almost painful suddenness, and I saw the tree ahead of us. Canceling the red paint so we wouldn¡¯t be pulled directly into it, I was about to look for another spot to yank us toward when I caught a glimpse of Alloy flying in from the side. Quickly, I canceled the rest of my paint, except for the orange, and added a bit to Inessa while my arm went back to normal. And yes, it was a weird sensation when it unwrapped itself from around her. The two of us fell right into the large bowl that Alloy made out of a couple of her marbles. She came up right beside us on her board, blurting, ¡°What the hell is going on?¡±


    I was already pushing myself up. ¡°Take her! Get her out of here, just go somewhere safe and out of sight until you hear from me. Out of the park, wherever, just get her gone!¡±


    Thankfully, the other girl didn¡¯t question that. She muttered an apology for any jostling to Inessa and then took off with her even as I launched myself out of the bowl. My paint was almost gone by that point, but I used just a little bit of orange to protect myself as I landed back on the ground. A quick glance over my shoulder showed Alloy flying out of the park with Inessa.


    That was the good news. The bad news was that just then I caught sight of a man stepping out of the bushes nearby. It was a man I recognized immediately. He had the same sleek red suit over a black silk shirt, the same red leather boots, and the same red and gold mask. The mask of a devil, for Devil¡¯s Due.


    I tried to react quickly enough to send a shot of black paint at the guy, but he was ready and spoke first. ¡°Hey, hang on a second, I¡¯m not here to fight.¡±


    His words made me hesitate. I really should mute him, but maybe it¡¯d be better to listen. There¡¯d been so much fighting already, and if he didn¡¯t want to continue that, what was the harm in hearing him out?


    I could hear the smile in the man¡¯s voice as he continued. ¡°Good, that¡¯s good. We all want this fighting to stop, right? And the best way to do that is if we have what we want. We get to leave with the girl and nobody else has to get hurt. That lets everyone be happy, and that¡¯s a good thing, isn¡¯t it?¡± He waited until I gave a little nod before going on. ¡°Which means the best way to make everyone happy is for you to call your friend back and tell her to bring Inessa. Then we¡¯ll leave with her and you can stay here with everyone else and make sure they¡¯re okay.¡±


    Sure, right, that made sense. I did want the fighting to stop, and that sounded like the best way to do it. So, I reached for my phone so I could call Peyton. In just a moment, this would all be over. It was a thought that made me smile under my mask and helmet.


    Fortunately, before I could actually do more than get the phone in my hand, another figure came running up. A hand smacked the phone out of my hand, while a strangely calm voice pointedly announced, ¡°You don¡¯t want to do that.¡±


    It was Skip, the Ten Towers Touched. She was there in her usual dark blue-black bodysuit with intricate runic-like lines running through it, covered partially by a short-sleeved white robe with a hood that covered the top half of her head, and a black cloth mask that covered the bottom half of her face while leaving just enough of her eyes exposed to show Asian features.


    After knocking the phone out of my hand and saying that, she kept walking toward the man in front of us. Seeing her coming, Devil¡¯s Due quickly spoke up. ¡°Hey now, we can all get along. Don¡¯t you want to be friends too?¡±


    ¡°Not particularly,¡± she informed him flatly, just before her foot lashed out in a kick that took the man in the stomach. As he doubled over, she caught his arm and was just about to put a pair of handcuffs on him. But at the last second, her gaze moved to look off to the side. An instant later, a blast of lightning shot out, almost nailing the girl. But she had already vanished from that spot, reappearing right next to me again.


    Right, Skip. She could skip any effect on herself, including Devil¡¯s Due¡¯s power, and skip back along to any physical location she had been in the past twenty-four hours. The understanding struck me just as the last of that dick¡¯s power wore off and I was back to thinking for myself again. Just in time to see the source of that lightning blast. It was Juice, of course. He was running our way, and looked pretty profoundly pissed off. Janus were with him, Mister Harmful facing us. And if Juice looked pissed off, hoo boy did Harmful put that to shame.


    Quickly, I did what I should¡¯ve done in the first place and hit Devil¡¯s Due with a shot of black paint to shut him up. No way did I want to go through that again. Sadly, I didn¡¯t have a paint color that could so easily deal with Janus and Juice. On the plus side, it might be just Skip and me facing down three Fell-Touched, but at least I¡¯d been standing here long enough that my paint had refilled. So I was going into this with a full tank. Still, we were going to have to do this the hard way.


    Or were we? Even as the other two approached, I abruptly realized that we really didn¡¯t have to stand here and fight them. Skip could leave at any time, and I could outrun these guys. Unfortunately, no sooner had that thought occurred to me, than the prospect of escaping became much harder. Fogwalker and Theory appeared behind us, coming out of the bushes. Now we had three guys ahead and two behind. Skip might¡¯ve been able to teleport, but I didn¡¯t like my own odds of being able to avoid all of them, especially when Theory could let out Praxis at any moment with whatever power they wanted.


    ¡±Okay,¡± Theory was saying as they closed in to encircle us. ¡°Let¡¯s try this again. Where is Inessa? Believe me when I say you don¡¯t want to give us a reason to break the answer out of you. Even if my new friend over there would really enjoy it.¡± His head nodded toward Janus. ¡°One last chance, kid. Give it up. The two of you are surrounded and the girl there can only teleport herself.¡±


    ¡°Watch it,¡± Fogwalker snarled, ¡°he¡¯s a tricky one. Don¡¯t get too close.¡±


    While I was still trying to think of a way out of this, Skip spoke in that same calm and measured voice. ¡°You are wrong about something.¡±


    ¡°What,¡± Juice snapped, ¡°you gonna say you can teleport other people after all?¡± Despite his dismissive words, I could hear the worry behind them. He really was concerned about that being a possibility.


    Skip¡¯s head shook easily. ¡°No, you are right about that. What you were wrong about was when you said two of us.¡°


    They (and I, honestly) were still processing that, as another voice spoke up. ¡°Yes, maybe you should count again.¡±


    It was Caishen, Skip¡¯s sister and the leader of the local Ten Towers team. She came into view, with Stick next to her. Soon, they were joined by Bunglebotch, Linesight, and Ephemera. All of them were spread out to surround this group, and all looked fresh. We¡¯d been fighting for a while now, but the Ten Towers Star-Touched had clearly just arrived, and they looked ready to make up for lost time.


    At that moment, I saw Theory look to one side. My mouth opened to shout a warning, just as he disappeared. He was replaced with Praxis. But rather than fight, she extended her arms to either side and snapped, ¡°This is a lost cause.¡± And with that, she and her partners all started to glow brightly. Before anyone could move, they vanished. Teleportation. Theory had given her teleportation. And now they were gone. They left. Which meant it was over. Thank fuck, it was over. Part of me wanted to sag with relief, but I still didn¡¯t know what was going on with the others. Not only my team, but the Minority too. Last I knew, the latter had been fighting Banneret and a bunch of Prevs. Were they okay? Was Izzy alright?


    With those thoughts rushing through my mind, Caishen, who had taken a step toward the bad guys just as they disappeared, stopped short. She stared at the spot where Praxis had been, then turned to look toward her sister and me. ¡°Okay then.


    ¡°Can someone please tell me what exactly is going on here?¡±

 Exhibition 25-09

    Before we got into any of that, I told Caishen and the others that I had to check on my team. Not to mention make sure Inessa was okay. They informed me that the Spartans had already arrived and helped either chase off or capture all the other guys. Poise, Style, Hobbes, and Calvin were being interviewed at the moment, as were the Minority people. Which also made me want to go rescue them from that, of course. But it wasn¡¯t nearly as good of an excuse. So, I had to deal with this first. Or rather, we did, since a quick call to Alloy had her bring Inessa back so she could help. Peyton also confirmed that the others were okay.


    Between both of us (once she was back), Inessa and I explained everything as best as we could. The other girl did most of the ¡®why¡¯ explanation, since she was the one who could get into the whole story about the vault and her brother. Mostly I just told Caishen and the others about what I had done, though I left out the part about working with Eits. Considering how much he helped with making sure I could free the hostages, it probably would¡¯ve been fine, but I didn¡¯t want the Ten Towers people to know that he had my phone number and had been connected to me through that for so long. It just felt like a bad idea to give them that sort of information. Especially when I still wasn¡¯t sure who on their team might be connected to the Ministry. I just had to give them as little information as possible, without looking like I was holding back information. Which was a delicate balancing act.


    Once we were done explaining that whole thing, Caishen let out a long breath. ¡°Okay, I think it¡¯s obvious that we need to cancel the rest of this exhibition.¡± She spoke up over Inessa¡¯s objections. ¡°Everyone is scattered and most of them went home or to the police already anyway. And if the gangs here know about your situation, these guys might not be the only ones who come after you.¡± She paused to consider for a moment before adding, ¡°How long until you finish that experiment?¡±


    ¡°Not long,¡± came the answer. ¡°I am certain that it will be done within the week.¡± A small smile played across her face. ¡°I have been waiting for this weight to be lifted for some time. This attack was not the first of its kind. It will be nice to not have to think about that.¡± She paused, a visible grimace crossing her face. ¡°Though I can never forget what sort of person my brother turned out to be.¡±


    Ohhh boy. Yeah, I wanted to say something to that, but what? How was I supposed to respond? I couldn¡¯t even tell her about my own brother and he at least hadn¡¯t been responsible for making what were apparently a bunch of dangerous super weapons that got him sent to Breakwater. And now, not only did she have to deal with having a brother like that, but also had random nasty pieces of shit trying to use her to open that vault so they could kill more people. How could I possibly respond to that in any meaningful way?


    While I was still trying to figure that out, Caishen continued. ¡°Do you really think you can turn off your ability to open that vault?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Bunglebotch put in, ¡°isn¡¯t that sort of thing impossible? I mean, it¡¯s your DNA. How exactly do you alter your DNA without changing who you are? Messing with that sort of thing just uhh, seems dangerous? And by seems dangerous, I mean incredibly, stupidly dangerous.¡± Quickly, she added, ¡°Not that you¡¯re stupid. I mean¨Cyeah, I mean, just¡­ you know.¡±


    ¡°Eloquently put, Bungle,¡± Stick dryly murmured before focusing on the girl next to me. ¡°Landmines of speaking indelicately aside, my friend there is right about it seeming dangerous. Are you certain you know what this scientist of yours is doing?¡°


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alloy piped up from where she had been standing quietly in the background, ¡°they¡¯re not about to turn you into a frog-person or something, are they?¡± When everyone looked at her, she shrank back a bit reflexively while one of her marbles turned into a shield and attached itself to her arm protectively.


    Inessa nodded. ¡°It is¡­ it is fine, it¡¯s not really changing my DNA. It is more¡­¡± She paused as though considering how to explain properly. ¡°It¡¯s more like adding a little something to it which disguises my DNA whenever it¡¯s read by something like the vault scanner. When it detects me being scanned that way, it throws some added¡­ stuff in there, which makes it look as though I am not the right one after all. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s the layman¡¯s version that was explained to me anyway. I am afraid a more technical explanation would have to be given by my friend, and I am not ready to give up their identity. Though I could give you a phone number to call.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, please do,¡± Caishen agreed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I could understand a ¡®more technical¡¯ explanation, but it¡¯d still be nice to have.¡± She looked toward me then. ¡°I think everyone owes you a real debt, Paintball. Whatever weapons might be in that secret vault, I¡¯m pretty sure we don¡¯t want those guys to have them.¡±


    Ephemera, who was in a male form at the moment (they shifted into new bodies constantly, with the only constant being their very simple costume of red pants, red shoes, white turtleneck, and white ski mask), spoke up. ¡°Yeah, dude, that was awesome. We only saw a little bit on the security cameras when we were gearing up to get over here, but seriously.¡± They gave me a thumbs up. ¡°You really kicked ass out there. With and without your team.¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Linesight put in, ¡°I believe what my teammate means is simply that we¡¯re glad you¡¯re safe, and that you managed to help the civilians around here.¡±


    Blushing a little under the mask and helmet, I offered a helpless shrug. ¡°No big deal. I mean, I just happened to be around, and what was I supposed to do, let those guys hurt people? I didn¡¯t even know what was going on, not really. I was just¡­¡± Trailing off, I kicked the ground lightly. ¡°I was just in the right place at the right time. And anyway, we would¡¯ve been caught if it wasn¡¯t for Skip.¡± Quickly looking toward the girl, I added, ¡°Thanks for jumping in like that. I don¡¯t think I could¡¯ve gotten out of that without you. Devil¡¯s Due was about to make me call Alloy back when you jumped in.¡± Under my breath, I muttered, ¡°Next time I see that guy I¡¯m gonna punch him so hard he¡¯ll never wanna tell me to do anything again.¡±


    Skip, in turn, simply spoke in that same flat voice that made it unclear what she was feeling. ¡°I¡¯m glad I was able to help. But as you said, it was simply a matter of being in the right place at the right time. I was scanning the park for the source of the disturbance and was about to move on to where your team was fighting when someone told me where you were.¡±


    That made Caishen look at her. ¡°Someone told you? One of the civilians?¡±


    Her head shook. ¡°I have no idea. The voice came from one of the loudspeakers meant for announcing events through the park. I could make out no details about it, but they told me where you were and that Devil¡¯s Due was going to make you do something terrible.¡±


    At first I was confused. Then I realized, Eits. Our call had disconnected when he left, but apparently he was back. Or maybe he¡¯d simply kept control of the cameras or something. Either way, he¡¯d sent help as soon as I was in trouble. It was a thought that made me blush even more, and I was yet again glad that these guys couldn¡¯t see that reaction.


    ¡°A mysterious helper,¡± Caishen mused before focusing on me. ¡°Any idea who that could be?¡±


    Oh boy, how was I supposed to answer that? A few dozen increasingly stupid possibilities ran through my head in the next second, before I simply replied, ¡°I might, but I¡¯m not sure. And it¡¯s kind of a personal thing anyway.¡±


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    To my relief, the woman accepted that, though she did look like she wanted to dig deeper. She resisted the urge, however, and simply moved on. So, I did a little more talking with them about what happened. There wasn¡¯t much else to say, but I did make sure Inessa was okay yet again before heading out. Caishen reminded me to make an official report when I did my periodic check-in with the cops, and noted that I should probably take my entire team with me, since they hadn¡¯t done that part yet.


    Finally, Inessa gave me a hug (leaving me standing there staring blankly and trying not to giggle like an idiot), before Alloy and I headed off together. The Ten Towers people were going to take over the job of keeping Inessa safe until she could finish that whole vault removal thing. Which was good, since I was pretty sure they¡¯d do a much better job than I could have at that moment. After everything that had happened, I was so tired I could barely stand upright, let alone get involved in another fight. All I wanted to do was fall down and sleep for a bit, though that wouldn¡¯t happen for awhile.


    At the last second, as Alloy started to lift us off together on one of her marble boards, I turned back and called toward Caishen, ¡°Oh! There¡¯s a guy in the port-a-potties over there! You uhh¡­ you might wanna get him out of there before the dude dies from the smell.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t want to get in trouble with violating the Geneva Conventions or something.¡±


    *****


    Unfortunately, I barely had time to check in with the others for a few minutes near one of the side exits from the park. I had just made sure everyone was okay, and thanked them for showing up, when I got a text on my phone from Eits. Glancing at it, I saw the message, ¡®Arleigh and brothers looking for you. Seem really worried. You might want to have an excuse ready for where you were.¡¯


    Yeah, that made me do a double-take. They were looking for me? Why? What¨C okay, no time to think about that. If they looked too hard and started wondering how I¡¯d disappeared so effectively¡­ fuck. That could be bad.


    ¡°Sorry, gotta go play at being me for awhile,¡± I interrupted while Paige was starting to talk about Banneret. ¡°The Cassidy me, I mean. I uhh, thanks again, guys. Seriously. I would¡¯ve been pretty screwed without you. And so would Inessa.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and we definitely wouldn¡¯t want anything bad to happen to your idol,¡± Sierra replied a bit slyly, looking me up and down. ¡°Did you get her autograph? Or give her yours?¡±


    ¡°I¨Cthat¡¯s not¨C¡± I was blushing even more, waving that off with both hands. ¡°Never mind, I¡¯ve gotta go. I¡¯ll check in with you guys as soon as I don¡¯t have a bunch of people wondering where the hell I am.¡± With that, I extended my arm to use a bit of paint to pull myself to a roof where I could change. But then I paused and glanced back toward Paige. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯ll have to tell you about how I was combining paint colors to get new effects.¡±


    The blonde girl started to nod absently before her gaze snapped toward me as she actually processed what I¡¯d said properly. ¡°Wait, you did what? Paintball, you did what?! Damn it, Paintball!¡±


    But I was already gone, leaving the others behind for the moment as I sent myself flying across the street, over several parked police cars and an ambulance. A few random civilians scattered around shouted up at me, and I waved but didn¡¯t slow down. Now was not the time to get caught up with something else.


    Instead, I made sure I was out of sight before hurriedly summoning my normal clothes back in the back. I did a quick change, glanced around once more, then lowered myself to the ground in the alley. Finally, I took my civilian phone out and looked at it. Oh, right, about twenty-seven missed calls and texts. Fantastic.


    Scanning through them, I saw that three different calls were from my parents, along with a text. Another call was from Simon, and the rest were all from Arleigh. She sounded increasingly frantic to know where I was and that I was okay, which might have been sweet if it wasn¡¯t Arleigh. Obviously something was going on. I really didn¡¯t believe she cared about me enough to check in that many times. Why would she be that upset at the idea of me being hurt?


    Shaking that off, I quickly called my mother back. As the call went through, I took a deep breath and composed myself. Or rather, uncomposed myself. Was that even a word? I sure wasn¡¯t decomposing. Either way, I jumped up and down a few times and shook my head back and forth. Time to play this up.


    It only rang once before my mother¡¯s voice immediately came through as the call connected. ¡°Cassidy? Cassidy, are you alright?¡± She didn¡¯t sound completely freaked out or anything, but there was a definite uncertainty and worry in her voice. Weirdly, I felt a flash of guilt about making her upset. That was stupid, right? She had helped hurt plenty of other people much worse than just being worried about me for a few minutes. And yet, the feeling was there anyway. Stupid unreasonable and illogical feelings.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay! I¡¯m fine, Mom!¡± I was talking too loudly, intentionally making myself sound even more upset and confused than I was. After all, this was supposed to be one of the first times I¡¯d been in any sort of situation like this. The first time since I¡¯d hid in the bathroom at the hotel to avoid the Scion troops back. I injected embarrassment and confusion into my voice. ¡°I saw those guys show up while I was getting nachos, so I hid under one of the cars in the parking lot. But I dropped my phone when I was¡­ when I was¡­¡± I swallowed hard, giving it a three count before quietly finishing, ¡°When I was running away. I dropped my phone and I couldn¡¯t get to it. There were guys all around and I didn¡¯t want to¨CI mean I was trying to¨CI mean¨C¡±


    ¡°Shh, it¡¯s alright.¡± Mom sounded relieved. ¡°It¡¯s okay, principessa, you did just fine. Have you spoken to the police yet? Your father will be there soon. Where are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m gonna talk to the cops in a second. I¡¯ll be near the skate entrance,¡± I informed her, already walking that way. ¡°Mom, my battery¡¯s getting really low. I¡¯ll talk to Dad as soon as he gets here. I¡¯m okay. I¡¯m fine.¡± Even as I said that, I made sure to sound like I was anxious and jumpy, but not enough to make her even more worried. I needed my mother to be convinced I was fine, but not suspicious about how fine I actually was.


    Boy was this a hard tightrope to walk. So I just told my mother I loved her and would see her soon, then disconnected. By that point, I had reached the park. There were cops all around, but they were focused on getting the bad guys I had tied down all loaded into cars to be taken in. No one paid much attention to me as I looked around before spotting Ryder standing by himself. He saw me at the same time and made a point of lifting his phone to his ear, then nodded to one side. Following the direction he was indicating with my gaze, I finally found Arleigh. She was with her dad, standing off by themselves away from everyone else. From the look of things, they were deep in conversation.


    So, I took my Paintball phone out, holding it to my ear after glancing around once. Immediately, I could hear voices. Arleigh and her father¡¯s voices.


    ¡°¨Ctold you, I tried to find her,¡± the girl was saying.


    In the distance, I could see Trey Fosters hold up a hand with a single finger raised. ¡°One job, Arleigh. In this whole operation we gave you one single job. When everything went down, you were supposed to make Cassidy Evans see you protect her. You were supposed to be the one who kept her safe. I thought you could handle that much, at least. Everyone else was doing the important things. The Ministry has their agents in place now. They can do their jobs. The Sidorov girl¡¯s worried now. She¡¯ll accept protection. Their protection. So we can find out exactly how this DNA-lock removal works and get it off your little brother. Everyone else succeeded at their parts in this despite unexpected interference.¡±


    Wait, hold on, was that what this entire thing was about? I found myself rocking back on my heels a little bit and that revelation. The Ministry had approved this entire thing just so they could get some guards close enough to Inessa to figure out how she was getting rid of her own ability to open her brother¡¯s vault, so they could do the same with Errol? That was¡­ that was¡­


    I didn¡¯t have time to think about what that was. Arleigh¡¯s voice suddenly filled my ear through the phone. ¡°There she is!¡±


    Oh, me. She had spotted me. Quickly putting the phone away, I looked around as though I had just heard a hint of her raised voice in the distance. Finally ¡®spotting¡¯ her as she shouted my name, I waved a bit awkwardly and took a few steps that way.


    Before I could reach them, however, my dad was there. He came racing across the grass, taking just a second to shout a greeting toward Mr. Fosters before taking a knee in front of me. The next thing I knew, he was pulling me up against his chest in a tight embrace. ¡°Cassidy, oh, Cassidy. You¡¯re alright.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡­ I¡¯m okay, Dad,¡± I managed, returning the hug after a second. ¡°I¡¯m just really confused right now. But¡­ but wait.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Izzy?¡±

 Exhibition 25-10

    Obviously, my parents wanted me to tell them the whole story about what happened while I was at the skatepark, more than once. The uber-paranoid part of me almost thought it was because they were trying to trip me up, but the more rational part knew they were just worried. They needed to hear that I was okay, that I hadn¡¯t actually been confronted by any of the bad guys directly. So, I just repeated the same thing I¡¯d told my mother on the phone. I saw the gang members show up, so I hid under a car in the parking lot until things calmed down. I wasn¡¯t a great fan of how it made me sound like a coward who couldn¡¯t even check on Izzy, but that was probably better than giving my family any reason to think I was up to anything else. Better a coward than a secret superhero who knew all about their criminal activities.


    I would¡¯ve preferred the chance to get away from them sooner so I could talk with the rest of my team about everything I¡¯d overheard, but there was absolutely no way that was going to happen for awhile. Izzy and I were sitting in one of the dens back home, drinking hot chocolate and eating fresh cookies while my parents took turns talking to us. It was almost amusing seeing the way they kept juggling being present, worried parents and running damage control as the Ministry. One of them kept stepping out of the room to use the phone. The excuse was that they were dealing with fallout from the attack considering our family helped sponsor the exhibition.


    While the two of them stood in the doorway, whispering to each other, I glanced toward Izzy. The story I¡¯d been given, of course, was that she had simply run off with Amber and the rest of the hostages after Paintball appeared and distracted the bad guys. The two of them stayed together, but had no idea where I was. Eventually (supposedly) they were both extricated from the group of freed hostages by my father shortly before he found me. We¡¯d dropped Amber off at her own house before coming back here.


    Seeing me look that way, Izzy gave me a tiny smile and nod before starting to talk about, of all things, how cool and amazing it had been when Paintball showed up. She really poured on the gushing over ¡®him.¡¯ Seriously, it sounded like me talking about Inessa. Actually, she might¡¯ve been inspired by that, come to think of it. She was totally using my own rambling, enthusiastic praise as inspiration for this bit, which was totally unfair and she knew it. I just had to sit there and play along with how cool the guy obviously was.


    ¡°Ahem.¡± That was my mother, coming back over before sitting on the chair next to the couch where Izzy and I were. ¡°Yes, we are all very grateful for Paintball and all the Star-Touched in the city right now. This whole situation could have been so much worse without them. Not only at the park, but other places too.¡±


    ¡°What¨Cum¨C¡± I started before coughing. ¡°I heard something about that girl who attacked the baseball stadium the other day going after a police station? Is she crazy?¡±


    ¡°She is¡­¡± Mom hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words.


    ¡°She¡¯s someone who belongs in prison,¡± Dad finished for her, coming over to sit in the other chair. ¡°But from what one of my cop buddies was saying, she was just trying to do as much damage as possible. It didn¡¯t seem like she was there for anything in particular. Just¡­¡± He trailed off, but I was pretty sure that was mostly because Mom glanced at him. She didn¡¯t want him speculating about that stuff in front of us. Or in front of me. The two of them exchanged a silent look, obviously communicating so much without saying a word.


    ¡°But the Conservators stopped her, right?¡± I put in, pretending I hadn¡¯t noticed that. It was getting really hard to guess how oblivious my parents thought I was supposed to be. At least in this case I had the excuse of having gone through something crazy and distracting. ¡°Did they, you know, catch her?¡±


    With a heavy sigh that obviously had a lot behind it, Dad shook his head. ¡°Unfortunately, it sounds like she managed to take control of about half the police force in the station and kept using them as distractions, making them try to hurt themselves or others if any of the Stars stepped in. But uhh¡­ it could¡¯ve been worse, if the others hadn¡¯t shown up.¡±


    ¡°Others?¡± I echoed, shifting a bit in the seat with a glance toward Izzy.


    Mom chuckled softly. ¡°Yes, odd as it may be to hear, apparently the day was saved by, of all people, that Grandstand woman. Well, she and those three members of La Casa. The lizard girl, the sound girl, and the ahh, computer boy?¡±


    Right, sure Mom, I totally believe you¡¯re unaware of their actual names. Excellent work. A-plus acting.


    Pushing that feeling of sarcasm as far from my voice as I could manage, I hesitantly spoke up. ¡°Wait, what were they doing there?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ probably something for the police to determine,¡± Mom carefully replied. ¡°All we can say for certain is that they interfered with that girl¡¯s attack. Hopefully before she could take whatever it was she was after.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not sure if she was after anything in particular,¡± Dad put in. ¡°Seems to me like she just wanted to cause as much pain and suffering as she could in an area that was supposed to be safe.¡± He said that in a low, dangerous voice that told me just how angry he was about that whole situation. And if I could actually hear it, that probably said something about how close my father was to putting his fist through a wall.


    That made sense, of course. If my family had this big plan about how to scare Inessa just enough to accept protection from people who worked for the Ministry so they could figure out how the DNA lock removal thing worked, then obviously they¡¯d be pissed off about Jennica choosing that moment to come in and start screwing things up. And it was more than that. She went against the control they had established over the city, just like the psychopaths she was trying to impress. And, I was sure, my dad was upset about the people she had hurt and killed in that police station.


    It was a mess, a total and complete mess. To the point that I was kind of surprised they were still making even the token effort to be here with us. I mean, sure, they¡¯d thought I was in danger. But it turned out I wasn¡¯t, at least as far as they knew. By this point, shouldn¡¯t they have given me the last couple hugs and then headed off to take care of actual Ministry stuff? This had to be a huge deal for them, too big to just handle over a few furtive phone calls in the hallway.


    While I was still thinking about that, Izzy actually spoke up, sounding tentative and uncertain. ¡°Um, Cassidy?¡±


    Her voice made me blink a couple times. I¡¯d been so focused on a mix between trying to keep my reactions to my parents reasonable and figuring out what was going on with them that I hadn¡¯t really thought too much about the fact that she was sitting there too. ¡°What?¡± I managed blankly after turning that way.


    Izzy shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip before meeting my gaze. ¡°I decided to say, umm¡­ y-yes. I mean, to your parents. To your family. I mean not that¨C¡± Her face was flushed. ¡°About the adoption thing, I mean.¡± She sat up a bit straighter and locked eyes with me. We both knew what she was saying with this, what it really meant. ¡°I decided to say yes, I¡¯d like to be adopted. I um, I told your dad that when he found me.¡±


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    ¡°Oh.¡± Taking that in, I smiled reflexively. Yes, there were so many ways this was dangerous, especially for Izzy. She would¡¯ve been so much safer in the long run if she just went with some other family. Preferably far away from here.


    Or would she? Obviously the Ministry was dangerous and all, but Mom and Dad clearly cared about her, and¨Cfuck. It was complicated.


    Still, I had to say something before my parents started to wonder what was going on with me, so I forced all those thoughts out of my head and simply leaned over to embrace the other girl. ¡°That¡¯s amazing, Izzy!¡± I didn¡¯t even have to fake that enthusiasm. I really enjoyed having her around. Not to mention how much better it was to have someone in the house I could absolutely trust and who knew all my secrets. Which did make me feel a little selfish considering how much trouble those secrets could get her in, but still.


    Simon, who had just come in through the doorway while I was reacting to that, spoke up. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯ll be cool to have an annoying little sister I can still stuff into a suitcase.¡± Immediately after saying that, he snapped his fingers. ¡°Oh wait, I can totally still do that with the first one.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, try it and see what happens, jerk,¡± I sent right back at him while baring my teeth like a raccoon. Wait, raccoon? Why was that the first image that stuck in my hea¨Coh yeah, Price, duh. ¡°Izzy, if he tries anything, his hair¡¯s a weak point. That includes pulling it or putting something sticky in it.¡±


    Mom cleared her throat. ¡°As much as I might enjoy listening to our children discussing how to torment one another more effectively, I believe there are more productive uses of our time.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah.¡± Izzy shifted again, her gaze going back to me. ¡°There¡¯s something else, Cassie. Something I need to tell you about me and¡­ and what I was really doing during the attack today.¡±


    Oh¨Coh, we were doing this right now? Wait, we were really doing this now? Izzy was going to tell me the truth about her identity in front of my¨Cour parents (and boy did that ever send a tickle down my spine). At first I wondered why she hadn¡¯t warned me ahead of time, but then realized this way was probably better. The sense of surprise would be more genuine and nothing would sound rehearsed. I was definitely mentally on the backfoot right now. ¡°I¨Cuh, what?¡±


    So, she told me. Or rather, showed me. Rising from the couch, Izzy summoned water from the glass on the nearby table and made it spin in circles in front of me. Then she soaked down the expensive vase sitting in the corner and made that float through the room (while Mom winced just a little). She told me she was Raindrop, and that she had been living with us because her birth mother tried to sell her to Oscuro before Silversmith saved her.


    I sat there through the whole story, pretending I didn¡¯t know any of it. And, dare I say, I put on the performance of a lifetime. It helped that I was surprised that this was happening right now, of course. But the other thing that helped was the fact that I was still extremely pissed off whenever I thought about what her birth mother had done. There had been no easing of emotions when it came to that. If I ever found out where that bitch was¡­


    In any case, that all helped make my reactions very real even though I knew all this stuff already. By the end, as Izzy stood there awkwardly, I pushed myself off the couch, grabbed her hands, and jumped up and down. ¡°A superhero! My sister¡¯s a superhero! Dude, that¡¯s fu¨C¡± My eyes darted briefly to my mother. ¡°¨Cfreaking awesome! You¡¯re Raindrop, you have superpowers, you can fly, you can¨Coh my God, you¡¯ve got action figures! I¡¯ve gotta get your action figures and your cups and your posters and¨C¡± In mid-sentence, I grabbed my phone and quickly checked something. ¡°Sheets and blankets! I can sleep on Raindrop sheets and blankets!¡±


    Yeah, maybe this was payback for the way she had been gushing over Paintball earlier. And I wasn¡¯t done yet.


    ¡°Wait, hold on, you can make other things fly too!¡± I made a point of overly dramatically widening my eyes with that ¡®realization¡¯ as I started to focus on the younger girl once more.


    ¡°I think we can talk about anything else regarding that later,¡± Mom immediately put in with a pointed tone as she squinted at me knowingly. ¡°Izzy, I trust you are careful enough not to listen to any wild fancies Cassidy might have about flying skateboards or the like.¡±


    ¡°Aww Mom,¡± I pretended to complain, ¡°We¡¯ll be careful, you know that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure you could define the word ¡®careful,¡¯¡± Dad informed me with a chuckle. ¡°Or that you wouldn¡¯t hiss and recoil from it like a vampire if you saw it written down.¡± He stepped over, putting one hand on Izzy¡¯s shoulder and one on mine. ¡°But does this mean you¡¯re okay with this? We didn¡¯t want to keep a secret this important from you like that for so long, but there were reasons.¡± He said that carefully, and I knew what it meant. This whole thing was a rehearsal for when they eventually told me the truth about everything. He was obviously playing that out in his head and watching my reaction now.


    Taking a breath, I grinned at Izzy. ¡°Okay? Dude, did you hear that? My sister is a freaking superhero! She has superpowers. She helps people in trouble. She puts bad guys in jail. She helped save all those people today! And she helped put out those fires the other day, and¨C¡± I cut myself off and just embraced Izzy again, because I didn¡¯t want Dad to see my face in that second. ¡°This isn¡¯t just okay, it¡¯s awesome!¡±


    ¡°Ah, awesome as it is,¡± Mom spoke up, ¡°I trust you know how important it is to keep it secret?¡±


    Squeezing Izzy one more time, I released her and turned to face my mother¨Cour mother. I knew this was a bit I couldn¡¯t joke my way through or blow off. It was serious and important enough right on the face of it, and my parents would be paying extra special attention for other reasons. They weren¡¯t going to accept a dismissive response.


    So, I faced her and gave a short nod. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna go blabbing about it to impress people at school or online, Mom. I¡¯m not a complete idiot. If those bad guys like the ones who were at the park today ever found out who she was, they might try to hurt her. Or one of us. It¡¯s cool knowing she¡¯s a superhero, that¡¯s all. I don¡¯t need to brag about it to anybody else.¡± Pointedly, I added, ¡°I mean, if Simon can keep it a secret, I can.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on,¡± he shot back at me, ¡°your mouth¡¯s about the only thing big about you, Booster.¡±


    With a sigh, Mom interjected before I could retort. ¡°Please be nice. I mean that at all times, naturally, but especially today. This is a time to celebrate, not bicker.¡± She poked me with one finger, then used the same one to poke Simon. ¡°You are both about to have a new younger sibling. You shouldn¡¯t be looking to her to set the best example.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but she¡¯s a superhero,¡± Simon pointed out with a sly shrug. ¡°How¡¯re we supposed to match up to that?¡±


    ¡°Just do your best,¡± Dad replied before adding, ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take being a superhero to get along with your sibling.¡± Before either of us could respond, he quickly pushed on. ¡°Now, there¡¯s a lot of stuff your mother and I still need to take care of tonight, after everything that happened. But you three go on into the kitchen and you¡¯ll find a special sundae bar Claudio whipped up before he retired for the evening. We¡¯ll get the adoption papers filed with the court as soon as they open.


    ¡°And something tells me, it won¡¯t take long to be approved.¡±


    *****


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Izzy murmured to me while the two of us were sitting in my room with our sundaes a bit later. We had gone over the intercom system again just to make sure we weren¡¯t being eavesdropped on, but I was pretty sure my parents had other things to focus on right now.


    ¡°You mean the being ambushed thing?¡± I teased while nudging her. ¡°Nah, I figure that was probably the best way to make me sound genuinely surprised about it.¡± When she still looked a little guilty and uncertain, I insisted. ¡°No, seriously, it¡¯s okay. You meant to take me by surprise and you did. But you also trusted me to run with it and not screw up. That¡­ that means a lot. And so¨C¡± I hesitated, setting my bowl down for the moment so I could focus on her. ¡°So does the fact that you want to be my sister.¡±


    Izzy blushed a little, also putting her bowl down. She shifted awkwardly, hands squeezing one another as she played with her fingers. ¡°Whatever happens, I¡¯m all in with you, Cassie. I¡­ I don¡¯t know what we¡¯re gonna do, but we can figure it out together.¡±


    Biting my lip, I took both her hands while she was still worryingly squeezing and twisting her own fingers. ¡°You¡¯re right, we will figure it out together. One step at a time. And¨C¡± As I was about to continue with that, my phone buzzed from its place on the bed next to me. Glancing that way, I read the message that popped up. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Oh what?¡± Izzy asked, leaning over a bit.


    ¡°It¡¯s Paige,¡± I replied. ¡°They finished the photoshop for those pictures, so she and Sierra really want to get the next bit going. You know, cuz they¡¯re worried about Irelyn.


    ¡°Which means the news stations are gonna get a late delivery tonight.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 18

    The Origin Of The Most Dangerous Fell-Touched In The World


    Mingle And Bloodfall


    Three Years Ago


    With a shout that was more fear than anger, the white-uniformed security guard at a museum in New York City opened fire on the figure walking that way slowly. The subject of his attack, and the source of his panic, was a woman who stood about two inches under six feet. Her leather pants were black, with a bit of red near the waist and bottom of the legs, leading into dark red boots. She wore a black sleeveless shirt with a red leather vest, her arms left bare aside from a set of spiked bracelets on either wrist. Dark red gloves covered her hands. Finally, her entire face was covered by what appeared to be a reddish-black ceramic mask at first glance, but would prove to be something much worse. Her blonde hair was cut quite short and styled into sharp-looking spikes. She walked toward the man casually, in no apparent hurry and without paying any mind to the pistol that was pointed her way.


    The guard got off three shots, all right on the mark despite his terror. And yet, none of the bullets accomplished much. The first two were heading straight for his target when a red stream of liquid flew into the air in its path. The liquid was blood, torn from the fallen body of another, quite dead security guard who was lying in a heap nearby. It streamed up out of the corpse, forming a circle in front of the advancing figure. Just before the bullets struck it, the hovering liquid hardened, forcing them to ricochet off in random directions.


    On the other hand, the third bullet went straight for the woman¡¯s face. Yet it too proved harmless, rebounding off the ¡®ceramic¡¯ mask, which wasn¡¯t ceramic at all. It was more hardened blood. She drew a small bit from every victim she encountered, and added it either to the mask, or to the various bits of body armor she wore under her actual clothing.


    Her name was Bloodfall, and she was one of the more dangerous Fell-Touched in New York, a place where the competition for such a title was already incredibly fierce. The fact that she had no qualms about severely mangling and killing anyone who happened to get in her way meant that she could very casually employ her ability to rip blood straight out of the body of anyone she either physically touched, or who had an open wound. And as soon as she had control of one person¡¯s blood, it became child¡¯s play to shape that into bladed weapons that could create more open wounds in anyone nearby. Suffice to say, she became an exponentially more dangerous problem the longer any particular fight went on. Even the strongest Star-Touched had trouble dealing with the woman, considering the moment she laid a hand on them, she was capable of doing horrific damage no matter how tough they were. It made facing Bloodfall a precarious situation in the best of circumstances.


    And this¡­ well, this was far from the best. This single surviving security guard scrambled backward, firing two more shots that went wide in his panic, before turning to flee.


    With a disgusted, half-amused snort, the woman transformed the blood shield hovering in front of her into a whip. It lashed out, catching hold of the man¡¯s ankle to yank him off his feet. As he hit the ground with a cry and was pulled backward, the man scrambled to turn over to point his gun once more. But Bloodfall was there first, taking two steps forward before lashing out with a kick that knocked the weapon from his grasp and sent it flying into the wall.


    ¡°You shot at me,¡± the woman informed him in an annoyed voice. ¡°You really think I¡¯m just gonna let you walk away after that?¡± The blood whip transformed into a set of ropes, securing the man¡¯s arms and legs while she crouched next to him and ran a finger up his back. ¡°No, no, no, we can¡¯t have that. If people think they can get away with shooting at me, it¡¯ll cause all sorts of problems. I think I might need to make an example out of you. So people know what a bad idea that is.¡±


    While the man struggled and protested frantically, she smirked and reached for the back of his neck. However, before she could touch him, a rush of movement drew her attention. She caught just the barest glimpse of a figure running toward her, before it dropped into a slide and went straight into the imprisoned man. Just like that, the sudden new arrival went into his body and disappeared.


    In the next moment, the man snapped his arms out to break the blood rope that was wrapped around him. It shattered and dissolved back into liquid, while the man flipped around onto his back. While Bloodfall was still reacting to what she had just seen, his foot lashed out to slam into her chest, sending her flailing backwards away from him. Then he was on his feet.


    Or rather, they were on his feet. Because by that point, as she rolled backwards and rose once more, Bloodfall had realized what was happening. She held a hand up, snarling, ¡°Mingle. Did you have to show up right now? I was just about to have a little fun.¡± Even as the words escaped her, she was trying to use her power to rip the blood from his body. But something about Mingle¡¯s possession blocked her power. Which was quite annoying, she had to say.


    ¡°Heya, BF.¡± The voice that came from the man¡¯s mouth was female, an odd side-effect of power belonging to the Star-Touched woman who had possessed him. Anyone she took over this way could be made stronger, faster, and so forth, but spoke with her voice despite retaining their own vocal cords. It was just one of those things. Beyond that, their bodies and clothing tended to shift somewhat, blending between that of the host and Mingle herself. In this case, the guard¡¯s clothing had gone from a simple white uniform, to more of a yellowish color, with a faint smiley-face visible on the front of his shirt. His face wasn¡¯t quite the same either, having adopted slightly softer features, while his skin darkened a bit.


    ¡°I hate to tell you this,¡± the feminine voice added, ¡°but I really don¡¯t think your buddy here was very enthusiastic about playing with you.¡±


    Cracking the man¡¯s neck with a slight twist of his head, Mingle added, ¡°In fact, he¡¯s been making it pretty clear that he wants me to make sure you don¡¯t hurt him, or anyone else. So uh, I think your game¡¯s over.¡±


    ¡°Over?¡± Eyes narrowing, Bloodfall retorted in a low voice which seemed to crack with barely restrained anger at the very suggestion. ¡°No one gets to tell me when it¡¯s over.¡±


    With that, she snapped one hand down toward the body of the dead guard she had already begun to use. At the gesture, the rest of his blood was torn free in a wet explosion that sent chunks of flesh spraying in every direction. The blood itself transformed into a pair of reddish swords, which spun through the air twice before flying straight at the possessed guard.


    But Mingle, of course, wasn¡¯t about to take an innocent man into actual combat against a murderous Fell-Touched. Even as the blood swords flew toward him, their forms separated. Both she and the security guard were left briefly intangible in those couple of seconds, and she used that to send his body backwards and sideways, through the nearby wall so he would be safely out of the fight on the other side. Then he could run and escape from the place with his blood safely intact since he was out of Bloodfall¡¯s line of sight.


    Mingle, meanwhile, was also left intangible for that brief moment, allowing the blood swords to fly through her. That moment did, however, give Bloodfall a chance to see her opponent clearly for the first time. The Star-Touched girl stood only a couple inches over five feet, leaving her quite a bit shorter than her opponent. Her costume consisted of white, knee-length shorts, a bright yellow hoodie with a pair of smiley faces on the front which seemed to be merging into one another, matching yellow shoes with white socks, and a white head-encompassing helmet with no visible visor but a pair of yellow eyes and smile painted on.


    With a thought and quick gesture, Bloodfall yanked the swords back through the air, trying to impale her opponent in the back as her brief intangibility wore off. But Mingle was already moving, twisting sideways to allow the right-hand sword to go flying just past the front of her helmet, before ducking so the left-hand one would pass over her head.


    In the next moment, Mingle managed to lunge and catch hold of Bloodfall. The Fell-Touched woman immediately tried to rip the girl¡¯s blood from her body. But Mingle was faster with her own power, vanishing from where she stood to possess the other woman instead.


    Well hey, now we can have a real conversation!


    Despite her enthusiasm about that fact, the only response Mingle received from the woman she was possessing was a low, dangerous, Get out.


    Okay now hold on, I know you¡¯re the bad guy and I¡¯m the good guy, but we can find some common ground here, Mingle insisted. You¡¯ve gotta have some redeeming qualities, right? Like, what¡¯s your favorite flavor of Pop-Tart? She didn¡¯t actually need to know that, of course. But it took time for her to take full control over people who were fighting her instead of cooperating, and distracting them with random chatter usually seemed to work.


    In this case, however, all she felt from the Fell-Touched woman was broiling rage. Bloodfall was not a happy person at the best of times, and she especially didn¡¯t seem to like being possessed. Get out. Get out. Geeeeeeeeeeet ouuuuut! She screamed inside her own head. Her body was already staggering from one side to the other as the two fought over control. They were each struggling desperately to push the other down. On the outside, Bloodfall¡¯s black sleeveless shirt had turned white, while her vest was more of an orange color, blending red and yellow. The reddish-black hardened blood mask had a smiley face on it.


    Through the next few moments, as Bloodfall¡¯s body stumbled into a wall, then spun around to punch that same wall hard enough to bruise her own hand, the two struggled with one another. Dude, chill out, I¡¯m not gonna do anything bad! Mingle blurted those words before realizing, Actually, not doing something bad is probably what you¡¯re afraid of, huh? Just hold on, you can¡¯t push me out. You can¡¯t stop this, okay? So just¨C


    Out! Out get out get out get out get out!


    So intent was she on forcing the Star-Touched out of her own body, that Bloodfall turned to desperate measures. In most cases, that wouldn¡¯t have accomplished anything either. But the mix of her specific power and her rage were a potent and deadly combination. Her voice came through, even angrier. You can¡¯t control me. If I can¡¯t control me, no one can control me. No one! No one! Nooooo ooooooooone!


    Those words echoed through their temporarily-shared head, even as the Fell-Touched focused on her own power. But not to pull any of the very exposed blood coating the walls around them. No, this time, her power was directed inward. Mingle, in her relative innocence, realized too late what was about to happen. Hey wait, what are y¨C


    Then she said no more. Not as herself, anyway. Because Bloodfall, in her rage, used her power to halt the blood flow to her own brain. The joined figure collapsed to the floor, jerking and spasming violently. She had meant what she said. No one else would control her, and she would kill herself to ensure that.


    In the end, death was not precisely what happened. But for so many throughout the world, things would have been better if it had.


    *******


    Present Day


    The sound of an agonized scream, enough to send chills down the spines of most who retained any semblance of empathy, filled the air of the small office. It devolved gradually into wordless sobs. A man in his late forties, with a brownish-gray beard and a full head of hair, lay on his stomach in the middle of an average, ordinary waiting room. Five chairs lined one wall, with a table full of magazines in the corner and another three chairs along the next wall. The counter where a receptionist would have waited was empty, though a heavy splattering of blood against the nearby wall left little hope for her fate.


    A blood whip was still wrapped around the fallen, sobbing man¡¯s neck, holding him in place. Not that it was particularly necessary now, given the damage that had been done to his spine.


    ¡°You know, Doc, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re gonna be able to fix that.¡±


    The speaker was a woman casually reclining in one of the chairs with her feet resting on the man¡¯s back. She wore a full covering bodysuit that was black as a base, with red-orange cloud-like designs across the arms and legs. Most of the costume¡¯s front torso was taken up by a red smiley face. But this was nothing like what would be found in most online conversations. The eyes were shaped more like diamonds, slanted slightly diagonally. The smile itself was crooked and looked somewhat like a V, rising too close to the eyes to seem natural. Taken all together, the effect appeared unnatural and off-putting. There was simply something wrong with it, even if most couldn¡¯t particularly describe why. Some would say it looked like a demonic smile.


    The woman¡¯s face, meanwhile, was covered by a black helmet, with a visor across the entire front. The visor was red, save for two black dots for eyes and a black, smiling mouth. She held the ¡®handle¡¯ of the blood whip lightly in one of her red-gloved hands.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right,¡± she added idly, ¡°you¡¯re not actually a doctor anyway, are you? No medical license, no prescription-writing authority. Honestly, if you can¡¯t write prescriptions, what¡¯s even the point?¡±


    Sobbing pathetically on the floor, the man made a sound like a wounded, dying animal before pleading, ¡°Wha-what do you want?¡±


    Lightly tapping her heels against his back, the woman retorted, ¡°A little appreciation for one thing. I mean, you¡¯re a chiropractor, and now your spine is broken. Or, you know, shattered. That¡¯s funny. You could at least laugh a little bit. I guarantee the people who find you are gonna laugh. Twenty bucks says at least one cop makes a joke about it right outside your earshot while they¡¯re still on the scene. But uh, friendly advice, don¡¯t take that bet. You¡¯re gonna need all the money you can get after this. Cuz I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be practicing¡­ what do they call what you do? It¡¯s not medicine. Chicanery? I¡¯ll go with chicanery. It¡¯s a fun word. Point is, you won¡¯t be doing any of that any time soon. So you might want to start digging for quarters in your¡­¡± She trailed off, looking down at him as she considered his situation. ¡°Ah, you might want to have someone you trust start digging for quarters in your couch.¡±


    With that, she took her feet off him and stood up. ¡°But as for what I actually want from you, nothing. This is a waiting room, isn¡¯t it? So, I¡¯m waiting.¡± As she spoke, the woman walked around the man, peering out through the glass doorway to the building across the street. ¡°How long do you suppose it takes firefighters to drown?¡±


    As the man made a weak sound that was mostly another sob, she nodded. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right. The same amount of time as everyone else.¡± Looking over her shoulder at him, the woman added, ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t tell you, did I? Get this, that¡¯s a fire station over there, right? While they were sleeping in there, I filled the doors and windows of their little bunkroom up with cement, then hooked the hoses from their trucks up and started flooding the room through the vents. Can you imagine the headlines tomorrow? Or the memes online! Firefighters drown at their station, in the water from their own trucks! People are gonna have so much fun with that.¡±


    The man had no real response to her words, other than to duck his head and sob to himself a bit more. But she didn¡¯t care. Her attention was on the figures who had just arrived outside the fire station. Three of them, one hovering in the air on a pair of forcefield discs under his feet. He wore army-patterned metallic armor with a matching helmet. The woman to his left on the ground was tall, standing several inches over six feet, and built quite muscularly. She wore a black tank top, green pants, and had a simple bandana over her face along with a pair of welder¡¯s goggles. The man to the right, meanwhile, was Latino and wore baggy red pants and a white long-sleeved shirt with an orange chestplate for armor. His face was covered by a red ski mask.


    Seeing all of them there as they started to move to the building itself, the woman in the waiting room took a step forward. As she did so, her body shifted slightly. She shrank by a couple inches, while a flowing cloak with raised hood appeared where none had been before.


    With that shift, she took another step and was suddenly standing in front of the group. ¡°Hey, heroes!¡± Her body shifted back to its original appearance. ¡°I have been waiting so long for you. And if I¡¯m annoyed, imagine how the guys in there feel. Honestly, C Plus on your work so far. And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s about to get any better.¡±


    The trio stopped short, the hovering man pointing that way to summon a forcefield around her as he blurted, ¡°Casura!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my name, don¡¯t wear it out!¡± she cheerfully blurted. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s my name now, since the¡­ ahh, accident. Also known as my birthday! Don¡¯t worry about buying me presents, you won¡¯t be around for that.¡±


    Casura, as she called herself, had been born when Mingle and Bloodfall were joined together. When the latter had given herself that catastrophic stroke, something about the way Mingle¡¯s powers blended her with Bloodfall inextricably merged the two together. Their personalities were twisted and melded into a single mind. The resulting woman was neither one, nor the other. She had all of the original Bloodfall¡¯s power, permanently boosted to be much stronger than it had been before by Mingle¡¯s gift. And while she couldn¡¯t use Mingle¡¯s power to possess people, by pulling the blood from others and absorbing it into herself, she could manifest their skills. Or even portions of their powers if they were Touched. Doing so had the side effect of occasionally also manifesting portions of their appearance and twisted versions of their personalities.


    Bloodfall by herself had been an incredibly strong Fell-Touched. Being merged with Mingle in order to have the permanent power boost would already have made her one of the strongest in the country. But given the ability to manifest the powers of anyone whose blood she had absorbed had quickly shot Casura to the very top of the list. She was, in so many ways, the most dangerous Fell-Touched on the planet. Baldur was the strongest Star-Touched because they could shift between dozens of different versions of themself, all with different powers. Casura was the strongest Fell-Touched because with every Touched she killed, she gained parts of their powers.


    The man with the forcefields knew that. Which was why he shouted for his companions to run. But before they could, Casura raised her hand. At the gesture, two columns of cement rose on either side of the man. He quickly manifested a forcefield around himself, but the columns slammed together with enough force to completely shatter the shield, breaking the man himself between them.


    The forcefield around Casura vanished. To their credit, both of the other Star-Touched immediately opened up on her. The man sent a torrent of fire at her from his hands, and the woman caught hold of a nearby sign post, ripping it from the ground before hurling it through the fire and directly toward the woman¡¯s chest.


    It didn¡¯t matter. A burst of blood exploded from Casura¡¯s body. One of her very first actions had been to absorb the healing capabilities from a dozen different Touched, on both sides of the law. This, combined with several ¡®pain dampening¡¯ powers, allowed her to use her own blood, tearing it from her body. That was then magnified by another power she had stolen, which turned small amounts of liquid into much larger amounts. A small bit of blood pulled from her own body could turn into a hundred gallons or more with a thought. A hundred gallons which, in turn, could become any number of deadly weapons and tools.


    In this case, the blood formed a bubble of sorts around the woman, shielding her from the fire. Not that it would have mattered that much, given the amount of heat-resisting powers she had stolen, but still. It was the principle of the thing.


    A second later, the flames stopped, as three spikes extended from the blood shield to cut straight through the man¡¯s throat, head, and chest. Meanwhile, as the woman hurled that sign post, it went straight through empty air. Her target had vanished, using her stolen teleportation once more.


    She appeared behind the strong woman, laying a hand against her back. ¡°You¡¯re very tough. But are you tough enough to withstand all the blood in your brain becoming acidic and melting its way through your skull?¡±


    In the end, she was not. As the body fell, Casura hopped over her with a gleeful sound before standing in front of the broken forcefield user. He was still alive, though barely, and lay in a crumpled heap.


    ¡°Now then, Mr. Bulwark,¡± she casually began. ¡°I hear you made a rule that people on your team weren¡¯t allowed to make jokes when they¡¯re in the field. Something about how you had to take things seriously to be effective?¡± Crouching next to him, she asked, ¡°How effective do you feel right now? Don¡¯t you think being able to make a joke in this sort of situation would help?¡± Pausing then, the woman looked his shattered body up and down before coughing. ¡°Okay, maybe that¡¯s a bad example. Still.¡± Her hand reached out to pat the side of his head. ¡°I think we all learned something today. So I really hope whoever takes over for you will rethink that rule and allows humor back into the workplace.¡±


    ¡°Cuz I¡¯d hate to have to come back here.¡±


    *******


    Broadway Talks To Pack About How The Party Where She And Amber Revealed Their Identities To Each Other Went


    Dani and KD


    Humming to herself while she stood with the refrigerator door open in her apartment (the one that her mysteriously never present ¡®aunt¡¯ owned), Dani remained lost in the memories of everything that had happened at the party earlier that night. And afterward. She found herself staring at a can of pineapple juice for a solid ten seconds without actually processing what it said. Her mind was adrift, completely incapable of actually focusing on anything other than¡­ other than¡­


    Blushing at her own private thoughts, the dark-skinned girl took the can of juice and a half-eaten blueberry pie from the shelves. She was going to crash on the couch, find something mind-numbing that both she and the lizard brigade could enjoy for awhile, and just enjoy the¨C


    ¡°So how¡¯d it go?¡±


    Having just turned as she shut the fridge door, Dani saw a figure standing right there on the other side of it just as the voice spoke up. She jerked backward, giving a sort of mixed yelp and curse as she flung both the pie and juice can reflexively at the intruder.


    KD¡¯s head shifted to the side to avoid the can as it went sailing past her to land somewhere in the living room, while she caught the pie tin. ¡°Oooh, blueberry. You got a fork?¡±


    ¡°KD!¡± Dani blurted, catching her breath as she stared that way. ¡°What the hell are you¨C how did you even get¨Coh right, teleporter. Don¡¯t do that!¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, the short girl with bright blue hair slyly replied, ¡°Uhh, yes, I am a teleporter. Among other things. And in most cases, I don¡¯t even mind a bit of breaking and entering. Or, you know, just entering since there¡¯s not much breaking involved in teleportation. But that¡¯s generally frowned upon in friendships.¡± She paused deliberately before adding, ¡°As is forgetting when you tell one of your friends ¡®oh yeah, sure, whatever¡¯ when they say they¡¯re gonna wait at your place to see how your totally cool and awesome date went.¡±


    As soon as she said that, Dani played that conversation back in her head from earlier in the day. KD was right. They were out on the balcony talking about what was going to happen, Dani had insisted it wouldn¡¯t be a big deal. KD had then declared that she would wait around to see how it went. And Dani had indeed replied, ¡®oh yeah, sure, whatever¡¯ without actually thinking too much about it. The entire conversation had completely slipped her mind thanks to¡­ well, all of that.


    Exhaling, Dani waved a hand. ¡°Sorry, I just¨Csorry.¡± Turning back to the drawer next to the fridge, she plucked out two forks and slipped past the other girl. ¡°Come on, we can share the pie. And see if we can find where my juice went. You couldn¡¯t catch that too?¡±


    ¡°Pie was more important,¡± KD replied while trailing after. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s pie, dude.¡±


    Soon, the two of them were nestled on the couch, with all the lizards spread out around the room in their own most comfortable spots. Many of those were under heat lamps where they could stretch out and rest properly. They had a couple different litter boxes in a corner of the bathroom where they could do their business, as well as an assortment of water and food bowls in the kitchen and at strategic spots throughout the house so they could always find something nearby.


    With the pie set between them, both girls started to eat. KD, swallowing the bite in her mouth, gestured with the fork. ¡°Okay, one, great pie. I am totally stealing the address of wherever you bought it. But two, how did it go?! Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me!¡±


    Oh boy. What was she actually supposed to say here? What could she say? There was no way Dani could actually tell her the whole truth. That would completely betray Amber¡¯s trust. Hell, it was going to be hard to tell her any of it without accidentally giving away too much. KD wasn¡¯t stupid. It would be far too easy for Dani to say the wrong thing, leading to KD figuring out the truth. But did that mean she had to lie to her friend and teammate?


    Yes. Yes, she did. Amber was keeping her identity secret and not turning her in. Which meant she would be lying to all of her own teammates and friends. So yes, Dani needed to lie right now. Thankfully, she had the perfect distraction. ¡°Haven¡¯t been watching the news, I take it? Or looking at your phone?¡±


    Blinking at the question, KD slowly replied. ¡°Uhh, no? I took a nap. Only woke up when I heard you making all that racket over there in the kitchen. My phone is uhh¡­¡± She looked around before shrugging. ¡°Somewhere. Why, what¨Chey did you rob that hotel?! I told you to tell me if you were gonna rob the hotel so I could help!¡±


    Snorting, Dani shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t rob the hotel. I would¡¯ve involved you if I was gonna do that. And I definitely wouldn¡¯t do it at a place I attended as a civilian anyway. That¡¯d just be dumb.¡± Before the other girl could press her any further, she launched into the story. Well, a sanitized version of the story, anyway. For obvious reasons, she left out the part where she and Amber had seen each other unmasked, and what came after that. And, just in case, she fudged a bit by adding in descriptions of listening to That-A-Way talk in her ear while actually in sight of Amber. That felt like worse lying than she absolutely had to do, but there was too good of a chance of KD putting two and two together simply from That-A-Way being there in the first place.


    Besides, if and when the truth about this came out, she was positive the other girl would understand.


    Taking another bite of pie, Dani finished with a simple, ¡°So, you know, at least the date didn¡¯t completely bomb.¡±


    Groaning, KD reached back to pick up a throw pillow before smacking Dani upside the head with it. ¡°Ugh, dude, foul! That¡¯s just wrong. But seriously? You went on a date with one girl you like and then had a whole bomb defusing adventure with the other one you like? Was that weird?¡±


    ¡°You have no idea,¡± Dani confirmed dryly, managing to keep a straight face with a bit of effort. ¡°And now I¡¯m even more confused about¡­ a lot of things.¡± There, that was the literal truth, even if she¡¯d obfuscated what exactly that confusion was.


    ¡°Aww, poor Dani.¡± KD smiled that way, before tilting her head with a curious expression. ¡°Hang on, so which one did you kiss?¡±


    Choking a bit on the bite of pie she had just taken, Dani¡¯s gaze jerked over to the other girl. ¡°What?¡±


    With a snicker, KD primly replied, ¡°Come on, you kissed one of them. I can tell that sort of thing, it¡¯s a magic gift. So which one was it? Did you kiss that Amber chick, or is this a Batman-Catwoman sort of situation?¡±


    Okay, what the hell was she supposed to say to that? Denying the whole thing would just make KD even more curious, and she might start thinking about why Dani would deny it. That would be yet another good way of giving up Amber¡¯s identity. God, this was even harder than she¡¯d thought it would be. And this was with her best friend!


    She had to think quickly and make a decision. Which one made the most sense for her to have kissed, that wouldn¡¯t cause as many issues later? God, pick one and say something!


    ¡°Amber,¡± she finally blurted, glancing down at the pie as her blush returned. ¡°I uh, I felt bad about walking off on her so much. So I umm¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh my God, did you tell her who you are?¡± KD quickly put in, eyes widening at the thought.


    Right, if Dani had choked before, she almost died in that moment. ¡°What?!¡± The word burst out before she shook her head rapidly. ¡°No! Of course not. I didn¡¯t¨CI mean why would you even¨CI mean what? Dude, how stupid do you think I am? I didn¡¯t tell her who I was.¡±


    She did not, however, say that she hadn¡¯t shown the girl who she was. A clearly important distinction.


    Squinting at her a bit, KD seemed to be trying to decide if she believed that. Finally, she shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s none of my business anyway. You can tell whoever you like. Just, you know, be careful, okay? I get that you like this girl, but you also like That-A-Way. So that whole thing is complicated enough already without adding in Amber knowing who you are. If you do decide to tell her, uhh, warn me ahead of time so we can plan out what to do if it goes wrong?¡±


    Swallowing hard, Dani offered the other girl a short nod. ¡°Yeah, sure, I can do that.¡±


    A small laugh escaped KD then, as she took another bite of pie. ¡°I mean, it¡¯d be one thing for some rando from school to know your secret identity. But can you imagine if That-A-Way found out?


    ¡°Now that would¡¯ve been a complicated date night.¡±

 Interlude 25A - Sterling And Elena

    ¡°Well that was almost a disaster,¡± Sterling noted as he sank into the jacuzzi attached to the master suite that he and his wife shared. A low, pleased groan escaped him as the jets went to work massaging his strained muscles. His eyes closed and he tilted his head back to stretch out. Thankfully, he had all the room in the world to do so. The tub was large enough for twelve people to sit in comfortably, though it only ever saw two.


    The Jacuzzi¡¯s other user, Elena, joined him a moment later. Sitting next to her husband, she gently and fondly rubbed one of his shoulders. ¡°Better a near disaster than a certain tragedy. You made the right choice, don¡¯t question it now.¡± She was well aware of what that tone of voice meant, and wanted to head it off at the pass. ¡°These things happen sometimes. We know that.¡±


    Opening his eyes, Sterling glanced that way. ¡°It could have been a hell of a lot worse. If Paintball hadn¡¯t helped Amber and Izzy get away from that crowd so they could call in the rest of the Minority, and if the rest of his team didn¡¯t show up¡­¡± He trailed off before a heavy sigh escaped him. ¡°The entire point was for the Conservators to arrive and drive those people off before they could actually hurt anyone.¡±


    Elena¡¯s head shook slightly. ¡°To be precise, the actual point was for Miss Sidorov to believe she was in danger so she would accept the presence of our people to keep her safe. To make her believe that, the danger had to be realistic. I believe our newest Fell-Team accomplished that quite well.¡± There was a slight edge to her voice, despite her actual words, however. It was obvious that she, like the man himself, was thinking about the far more personal risk that had been involved with that whole situation.


    ¡°Quite well indeed,¡± Sterling pointedly replied with a nod of agreement. ¡°And yet, somehow Cassidy ended up hiding ten feet away from danger again. It was bad enough at the hotel when she had to hide in the bathroom. But with this? This was our fault. Those people attacked the park because we wanted them to. If they¡¯d killed anyone there, or if any of them had hurt Cassidy¡­¡± His face twisted a bit at the thought, hand clenching into a fist.


    Taking that fist and smoothing it out gently, Elena gently kissed his fingers. ¡°They would all pay, quite harshly. But she is not hurt, Sterling. You remember the rules that were laid out for them in the first place. None of their hostages were to be seriously harmed. Cassidy may have been in more actual danger by hiding and potentially surprising one of the men than she would have been had she simply stayed with the others throughout the ordeal. Amber and Izzy would have kept her safe.¡± She considered briefly before adding, ¡°I believe that situation might have actually prompted Izzy to reveal her powers to Cassidy. So she knows she can be safe with her.¡±


    Shaking off that thought, she focused on her husband once more. ¡°In a perfect world, the plan would have worked flawlessly, with no adjustments or issues. But this world is very imperfect, my love. Of course I would rather you not have had to choose between following our plan as written, or interceding in the fight between Deicide¡¯s people and Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s at the mall. I am not saying otherwise. What I am saying is that I believe you made the best possible choice. Again, Janus, Juice, and the others had their instructions about not harming the people there. They know the penalties for violating those hard rules when we give them. But the fight at the mall was not our doing. It occurred entirely naturally, with none of our rules in place. If you had not taken the Conservators there and put an end to it, many more people would have died. Children, Sterling. Children would have died. To say nothing of the situation with Miss Rafferty at the police station. Both of those had to be brought back into some semblance of control.¡±


    Once again, Sterling sighed. ¡°You¡¯re right. It was the only thing that made sense. We had to trust that Janus and the rest of that gang would follow the rules. But half of them are new to the city. We don¡¯t know them as well as we know the rest of the gangs. I wasn¡¯t sure how much we could trust them to follow our rules. No matter how daunting of a first impression we made on them. That¡¯s why this whole thing was supposed to be a test. A test with safety bumpers.¡±


    ¡°Instead, it was a test without the bumpers,¡± Elena finished for him. ¡°One we all survived. You made the right choice in going to the mall. And, while a bit¡­ I believe scruffy would be the right word, the situation at the park did resolve itself correctly. Miss Sidorov has accepted our aid. We will take what we learn from that and use it to remove Errol¡¯s connection to that safe so he can never be used to open it.¡±


    ¡°And you still think I made the right choice?¡± Sterling pointed out with a glance that way. ¡°If this whole thing had gone wrong, we would¡¯ve lost our best chance of doing that. If the Scions figure out who Errol is and manage to get to him before we can deal with that, a hell of a lot more people will die than anyone who was at that mall. Can you imagine the horrors Pencil and his sister would inflict on this entire city¨Chell, the entire state¡ª if they had control of all the puppets in that safe? To say nothing of what they could do if they used that to find out about the Ministry. I saw the children at the mall in the middle of that gang war and I chose to save them. It worked out this time, but if it hadn¡¯t, if¨C¡± He cut himself off, grimacing visibly for a moment before his voice continued a bit more softly. ¡°It was a risk, and it could have backfired spectacularly.¡±


    ¡°It could have,¡± Elena agreed. ¡°But it did not. And if we spent minutes reexamining every way in which moments could have gone differently, we would lose years to our doubts. You saw children in danger and chose to save them, Sterling. If you continue to berate yourself about that choice, I shall have to find a way to hurt you. Perhaps by informing Simon about that gray hair¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Sterling quickly interjected, holding up his free hand in surrender. ¡°You win. I¡¯ll let it go, promise.¡± Shifting a bit to look at her better, he offered a slight smile. ¡°And I suppose things did work out after all. Thanks to Paintball, again. Maybe we should put that boy on the payroll, considering how much help he¡¯s been.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t considered something like that,¡± Elena shot back, poking the man in his nose. ¡°It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve wished we could go back and start off our relationship with the boy on the right foot. Not that I blame Simon for what happened. He did what he was supposed to do, given what he knew. And yet¡­¡± It was her turn to sigh.


    With a chuckle as he took hold of her still-extended hand and squeezed it, Sterling pointed out, ¡°Don¡¯t forget, no spending minutes reexamining moments. You said yourself how quickly that can get out of hand. We keep moving forward as best as we can, making the choices we have to make and living with them. Now, where¡¯s the remote for the tub?


    ¡°I want to see just how good those upgrades to the massager setting are.¡±


    ******


    Several hours later, after getting a bit of sleep, Sterling was roused from his slumber by the buzzing of his personal cell phone on the desk next to their bed. He glanced toward his still-sleeping wife before quietly slipping out from under the blanket. Picking up the phone, the man rose as stealthily as possible and began to make his way to the door while glancing at the screen. There were only a few people whose calls his phone would actually vibrate for while he was asleep, so the list of who this could be was short. And sure enough, the name on the screen was Alcazar¡¯s civilian identity. Face twisting slightly at the thought of what could have prompted this call, he carefully stepped out of the room and allowed it to close behind him. Only then did Sterling answer the phone, speaking in normal voice rather than a whisper considering the soundproofing would ensure Elena wasn¡¯t disturbed.


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    The answer came immediately, in a completely flat voice that told Sterling nothing about what was actually happening. ¡°One of our friends at Channel Nine sent over an early copy of the report they¡¯re working on that¡¯s supposed to go out in a couple hours. I¡¯m shooting it to your system right now. Believe me, you¡¯ll want to see this.¡±


    Slowing very slightly, Sterling took that in. This clearly wasn¡¯t a worst case scenario. There were code words for that, ways to sound the alarm. Whatever was happening, the Ministry hadn¡¯t been exposed, neither¨Cnone of his children were in mortal peril, the city wasn¡¯t burning down. But it was important enough to call like this, and public enough that it would be on the news.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Without saying anything else for the moment, given he was certain Alcazar wanted to wait until he knew what was going on, Sterling took a few steps to the next room. It was one of his offices. He stepped inside and told the television to switch over to the private system they used for this sort of thing. Immediately, a picture of a shipwreck in front of an island came into view, along with a voice over that was clearly some sort of aid or production assistant reading off a script. This was a half-finished piece, not quite ready for actual air.


    So, why was he watching the rehearsal of a news story about a boat crash? Why would Alcazar have woken him up for this? Frowning a bit, Sterling kept watching. And in a few moments, he had his answer.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± he murmured under his breath while staring that way. Breakwater? If the claims in this unfinished report were true, then that was where the long-missing Trivial and Flea had ended up. Which¡­ did make a sort of sense considering how impossible it had become to track them down, but still.


    Irelyn Banners. Not that she was named in the report, but he was able to read between the lines. There were only so many sufficiently important women in the city who were currently missing and whose locations he wasn¡¯t aware of. The list was short to begin with, and the very few details the report gave would have been enough to narrow it down even if the whole Flea thing hadn¡¯t been included. The fact that it was meant there was never any question in his mind about who they were talking about.


    And yet, much of the report was utter nonsense. Flea and Trivial had not been sent to secretly rescue Irelyn. If they had been, he would have heard about it from about three or four different directions and identities. It didn¡¯t matter how secretive the supposed mission had been, he would have known. So his first instinct was to dismiss this entire thing.


    And yet, why? Why would someone make this up out of nothing? Obviously the news that an innocent person had accidentally ended up stranded on Breakwater, and that two Star-Touched had gone in to rescue her before disappearing as well, would be big news, putting it mildly. People wouldn¡¯t just take the word of an anonymous source. The media outlet wouldn¡¯t be getting ready to run the story, not without some confirmation of their own. The picture on the screen had just shown some boat wreckage near a random island that could have been anywhere. The only reason the news would have actually run with the story was if they had some reason to believe it was true. And that meant¨C


    ¡°There¡¯s more,¡± he noted simply.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Alcazar confirmed. ¡°Whoever sent all that to about four different news stations, and posted it on a few different websites, also sent a more¡­ detailed bit of evidence to the Conservators and the Spartans public relations boxes, and to Ten Towers as well. I took the liberty of pulling the files from all three, but they¡¯re identical. The most important bit is that the files include the GPS location of the wreck, and it fits the location for Breakwater.¡±


    Sterling was quiet for a moment as he absorbed that. The people behind this knew where Breakwater was, and that wasn¡¯t a secret that was easy to get. So there must have been at least some element of truth to it.


    How in the hell had something like this happened? Obviously, the news didn¡¯t have the full story. There was no way that Flea and Trivial had actually gone to Breakwater to save Irelyn after she accidentally ended up there during a shipwreck. Among several other reasons for why that was impossible was the fact that Irelyn was Flea.


    She had gone to find her missing parents. Trivial went with her, and the two of them had made it to Florida before disappearing. And now, according to this, they had somehow ended up on Breakwater. How? What was the connection?


    Wait. Pittman. Pittman¡¯s little bio-machines were running around while he was still on Breakwater. He had to have had some sort of help here in town, someone providing resources. Could that have been the Banners? Hold on¡­ Paige. Paige had ended up with a lot of information about the Ministry. That had always been a mystery, but what if the Banners had been working with Pittman, providing him resources? Then he, in turn, provided them with information about the Ministry. Information that was in their house for Paige to stumble across, considering how much time she spent in that place. That would explain how she¡¯d found out enough about the Ministry to start digging deeper, how she¡¯d gained access to those files.


    That answered a lot, actually.


    In any case, if this was true, Irelyn and Trivial had ended up on that island together somehow. And now whoever had leaked these pictures and the story to the news was trying to get public attention on the situation, without exposing Irelyn¡¯s identity.


    But why only avoid spoiling her identity? Was it because they didn¡¯t know who Trivial really was? No, that couldn¡¯t be it, because there was no reason to claim that there should be three people to be rescued from the island instead of two. That just complicated matters. It would have made far more sense to simply refer to Flea and Trivial without ever mentioning Irelyn.


    For a moment, Sterling was baffled. Then he realized. There had to be more than one person involved in this, and at least one of them didn¡¯t know that Irelyn and Flea were the same person. Whoever was actually behind this was trying to thread the needle of getting help for Flea and Trivial without exposing to the world that Flea was Irelyn, and without exposing that same fact to whoever they were working with. This other person or people must have known that Flea was there and that Irelyn was there, but didn¡¯t know they were one and the same. That sounded complicated and dangerous, so why wouldn¡¯t they simply tell these other people the truth?


    Was this Paige? It was clear by this point that the girl knew her way around computers and was good at the spying game. Better than she should¡¯ve been. Especially if he was right about her finding out about the Ministry from her parents. If she had found out the truth about what happened to her adopted sister and had recruited someone to help to expose that fact, but didn¡¯t want her new allies to know the whole truth¡­ but who would she have gone to for help? Most of the groups in the city would have reached that information back to the Ministry long before it ever got this far.


    There were a few options, of course. Paintball¡¯s new group, Avant-Guard, was a possibility. But Sterling didn¡¯t think they could pull something like this off. Not on such short notice. If Paige had gone to them for help¨Cwhy would she? What could they give her when it came to getting anyone off of Breakwater? Not to sell them short, but nothing, really. If Paige had discovered the truth of where her sister was, why would she go to them for help?


    Then there was the fact that, when asked about what she knew when it came to Irelyn¡¯s disappearance only recently, she¡¯d claimed that the only information she had was that Irelyn had left to go find their parents. Parents whom Paige herself had only left shortly before that. Their father had taken her and his wife to go hide from some mysterious enemy. A mysterious enemy that Sterling was beginning to believe was supposed to be the Ministry itself. He and Elena were the enemies the Banners were hiding from, and they didn¡¯t even know it. Then Paige convinced him to let her come back here to go to school again, but by the time she arrived, Irelyn was already gone.


    The simplest answer, of course, was that she was lying about some or all of that. But the agent who had been sent to speak with her was very good at picking up lies, and they believed she was telling the truth. It didn¡¯t completely prove anything, but did muddy the waters a bit.


    Maybe it wasn¡¯t Paige. But his instincts told him she was involved. This whole thing was meant to force Breakwater to admit they had Flea and Trivial, and send them home. That wasn¡¯t necessarily one hundred percent proof that Paige was part of it, but¡­ yeah, he thought she was. In some way or another, at least.


    Maybe he was thinking about this from the wrong direction. What if it wasn¡¯t that Paige had learned what happened to Irelyn and had then gone to another group, but the other way around? What if some other group had gone to her with that information? If they knew that Irelyn was on that island and that Flea and Trivial were as well, but thought that Irelyn and Flea were different people¡­ hmm, that was possible. They might have recruited Paige with that, but¡­ why? And who would have found out where Flea and Trivial were, and that Irelyn was ¡®there as well,¡¯ but didn¡¯t know two of those were the same person, and would have recruited Paige to help them? And help them what? Hold on, he was missing something here.


    Wait a moment. Another thought came to Sterling, and he told the computer to shift away from the frozen half-finished news footage in order to bring up a few files and memos he wasn¡¯t exactly supposed to have access to. Sure enough, there it was. One of the principle investors in three of Ten Towers¡¯ member companies was Aaron Banners, Irelyn and Paige¡¯s father. He was still something of an outsider from the group itself, preferring to build his own legacy. But he had access others didn¡¯t. Access that could give someone very important information, such as everything they knew about the murder of that reporter, Jolene Iverson.


    Grandstand. She could have accessed the information about what happened to Flea and Trivial at any of the little hideaways Pittman probably still had around here. She and Broadway were working together. But they also had help from Eits and Pack. Those four had shown up to the police station today to stop Jennica, so they were clearly in close contact. Between Grandstand¡¯s power and Eits¡¯, they could have discovered just about anything.


    Obviously, they found out the truth and decided to pull Paige into things in order to get access to her and Irelyn''s father. Which, by extension, would grant them his access to all the information Ten Towers had about the murder of Setrea¡¯s friend. It made sense and fit this situation. Or at least as much as anything did.


    ¡°Minister?¡± Alcazar prompted, interpreting his intake of breath. ¡°Do you have something?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Sterling replied. ¡°I¡¯m going to wake my wife and explain what¡¯s going on. Do something for me in the meantime, would you?


    ¡°Send messages to Cu¨¦lebre and Blackjack to give us everything they know about Grandstand, Broadway, Eits, and Pack.¡±

 Interlude 25B - A Fortuitous Meeting

    ¡°Look, all I¡¯m saying is this better not be our public debut.¡± The boy saying that, Zed Chambers, made the announcement while gesturing up and down to indicate the very simple black jumpsuit and ski mask he wore. ¡°There is no way we¡¯ll ever live down the shame of being this basic.¡±


    His twin, Lexi, was dressed identically (something they had grown out of ages ago). She stood next to the boy, giving him an appraising look. ¡°You know, what you should really be worried about is what happens if one of us takes that mask off your head so we can see what your hair looks like when it¡¯s actually messed up.¡±


    The fourteen-year-old twins, as well as the other two (or five depending on how one counted) in their little group were standing across the street from a dive bar near a truck stop about thirty miles south of Detroit. The city of Monroe, Michigan was a few miles further on, but this place had the fueling station, diner, motel, and the aforementioned bar. It was essentially the middle of the night, definitely past curfew time back in Detroit. But this wasn¡¯t Detroit, and both the bar and diner were still hopping. From the dirt lot behind the motel where they were gathered, the group could quite easily hear the music blaring out from the bar despite the fact that it was clear across the street. How the people in there could spend more than five minutes without going deaf permanently was anyone¡¯s guess.


    ¡°Oh please,¡± Zed shot back with an audible scoff. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, I get the good stuff for my hair. I could stand in the middle of a wind tunnel and it wouldn¡¯t move. See?¡± He reached up as though to pull the mask up.


    One of their companions, Damarko (or the version who called himself Rabbit) quickly caught the younger boy¡¯s hand. His voice was slightly pained. ¡°Ah, let¡¯s try to keep the masks on, huh? I don¡¯t think you really wanna explain to your parents how some random person happened to get a picture of you behind a motel in the middle of nowhere at one in the morning when you¡¯re supposed to be safe and sound asleep in Jae¡¯s guest room.¡± He gestured toward the identical jumpsuit and mask he and his duplicates (who were spread out to keep an eye on things in case anyone approached) wore as well, rather than their usual Syndicate costume. ¡°Especially not while we¡¯re all dressed like we¡¯re about to rob the place.¡±


    ¡°Yes, please,¡± Jae put in while shifting from foot to foot. ¡°I¡¯d rather not have to explain any of this.¡±


    ¡°What, no rhyme?¡± Lexi asked, looking that way.


    ¡°I¡¯m not Carousel,¡± Jae reminded her easily while waving a hand demonstrably in front of her ski mask-clad face. ¡°No jester¡¯s mask. We can¡¯t be here as other selves. We have to be¡­ other other selves.¡± Her eyes, visible through the holes, squinted slightly. ¡°You get the point.¡±


    Rabbit gave a quick nod. ¡°Exactly. We¡¯re not here as the Minority, which means Jae pretends her power is normal telekinesis and I keep my other selves out of sight and stick to turning intangible and invisible. As for you guys¡­ well you don¡¯t have any public identities anyway, but like I said, you don¡¯t want to explain to your parents what you were doing here. None of us want to have to do any explaining.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± Zed agreed. ¡°Mom and Dad can be pretty scary when they wanna be. But come on, are we gonna get in there and find this guy or what?¡± He waved a hand toward the loud bar in the distance. ¡°There¡¯s no way that party¡¯s chilling out any time soon. So the only people in that motel should be the guy we¡¯re looking for and his buddies or bodyguards or whatever.¡±


    Lexi¡¯s head bobbed. ¡°Yeah, we already came this far. If this is really the dude who sold phony IDs to guys who tried to kidnap us from Jae¡¯s house, he¡¯s gotta know who they really were. He¡¯s the only lead we¡¯ve got. So let¡¯s get in there and find out what he knows!¡± She punctuated the last couple words by slamming her gloved fist into her hand.


    Instead of responding immediately, Rabbit held a hand up for them to wait while cocking his head to the side. ¡°Okay,¡± he finally murmured after getting a report from his other selves, ¡°looks like the entire back is clear. They¡¯ve got one guy in the night manager¡¯s office watching wrestling in front, the first floor is empty, then two guys on the second floor playing cards by the stairs on the east side. Our guy¡¯s door is three down from them, and he¡¯s watching TV with some girl.¡±


    ¡°At least he¡¯s not doing something else with the girl,¡± Lexi noted. ¡°We¡¯re not even old enough to legally watch R-rated movies without adult supervision yet.¡± She waited for the others to look at her before snickering. ¡°And I don¡¯t think Mom would understand if I called to ask her permission to go in that room.¡±


    Snorting despite himself, Rabbit agreed, ¡°Yeah, that might turn into a whole special conversation none of us want to have. So let¡¯s be grateful for small favors, and try to avoid any extra attention, okay?¡± He waited until the other three nodded, before turning back to look at the motel. ¡°Quick and easy, without letting anyone know who we really are. Let¡¯s do thi¨Cwhat the¨C?!¡±


    Those words came as his head snapped around toward the motel. They were staring at the back of the building, but the loud roar that suddenly filled the air a second later came from the front. As did the loud crashing sound, and the following high-pitched scream.


    ¡°What¨Cwhat the hell¡¯s going on?!¡± Zed blurted, spinning to stare that way with the others.


    ¡°Oh shit,¡± Rabbit started, ¡°Colt says it¡¯s¨C¡±


    That was as far as he managed to get, before the sound of breaking glass interrupted the boy as a chair was thrown through one of the windows in the motel¡¯s second floor. Another roar came, before a figure hurled himself out through the opening, sprawling out in the dirt.


    Behind the panicked, window-diving figure, an enormous reptilian figure came crashing through the same opening. Or rather, part of the opening. The figure was too large for the actual size of the window frame, so it took out part of the wall on every side as well. The ground seemed to violently shake as it landed heavily, sending dirt and debris flying. Then it loomed up, its form illuminated in the glow from the distant lights.


    With a blurted curse, Lexi reared back her hand with one of her glowing ¡®eggs¡¯ that would transform anything hit by it into light and send them flying off in a direction of her choosing cupped in it. She started to throw, before Jae stopped her.


    ¡°Wait! That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s¡­¡±


    ******


    ¡°Mars Bar!¡± Up inside the motel room where the identity forger had been a second earlier, Pack grimaced at the enormous hole where most of the wall had been a moment earlier. The bear-lizard would be fine, of course. It was only a one story drop. But still, seeing her reptilian partner slam through like that was enough to make her wince.


    Broadway, straightening up from where she had just finished ensuring that the man¡¯s two bodyguards weren¡¯t about to cause any problems, spoke brightly. ¡°Well hey, the job was to chase him out of the motel, and I think we managed that. Thumbs up to us.¡± Even as she said that, the sound of someone whimpering in the corner caught her attention. Looking that way, toward the woman their quarry had been watching the movie with as she huddled on the far side of the bed, Broadway waved. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll bring your boyfriend back safe and sound. We¡¯ve just gotta talk to him about a fake ID he sold to some shit-ass murderer, that¡¯s all. I know he looks scary, but Mars Bar is a big old softie. Your guy¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Despite her efforts, the reassurances probably weren¡¯t very helpful, coming from a figure in dark-purple power armor with a helmet that had a V-shaped visor across the front with multi-colored lines that danced wildly whenever she spoke.


    ¡°Guys!¡± That was Eits, coming through the open doorway at a sprint, out of breath. He blurted, ¡°There¡¯s people down there with Mars and the guy! People in masks!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Both girls blurted that together, looked at each other, then ran to the broken wall to see what the hell was going on down there. What they saw was Mars Bar calmly standing with one paw holding their quarry gently yet firmly against the ground, while four people in masks stood around him clearly arguing with each other. Mars Bar wasn¡¯t attacking them, but he was growling low, making it clear that any attempt to approach would be a bad idea.


    On top of that, the bear-lizard was joined just then by Holiday, who had been prowling through the bushes as backup just in case they chased the guy in the wrong direction. Now, the panther-lizard stalked up next to her friend and bared her teeth at the strangers.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Without wasting another second after shouting that, Pack jumped through the hole. As she did so, Scatters came charging up in her reindeer form and leapt, catching the girl on her back before landing smoothly. Perched on her mount, Pack came up on the opposite side of Mars Bar from Holiday. Her attention was focused on the four masked figures. ¡°Who the hell are you guys? Cuz if you¡¯re trying to rob our little friend here, boy do you have shitty timing.¡±


    With a sharp whistle, Broadway used the sound waves to teleport down next to them. ¡°Yeah, dudes. All you had to do was wait like thirty minutes and we would¡¯ve been done with him so you could clean out his wallet or whatever. We¡¯re not trying to horn in on your territory.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Our territory?¡± one of the figures, clearly male and young, blurted. ¡°Wait, we¡¯re not¨C¡± He stopped as one of the female figures stepped on his foot.


    ¡°What are you guys doing here?¡± the other male figure quickly put in. He stood there, gaze snapping back and forth between the lizard-animals and the two Fell-Touched. ¡°Aren¡¯t you usually up in Detroit?¡±


    ¡°Hey, they do know who we are!¡± Broadway exclaimed brightly. ¡°Look, like I said, we¡¯re not trying to barge over your territory or anything. This isn¡¯t an expansion. We just need to chat with this guy here for a few minutes, find out what he knows about something pretty important, then we¡¯ll be out of your hair.¡± The last thing any of them wanted to do was accidentally start some sort of gang war with an unknown group down here and have them blame Blackjack for it.


    The second girl, who hadn¡¯t stepped on the boy¡¯s foot, took a small step forward. ¡°We need to talk to him too. It¡¯s¡­¡± She paused as though considering how much to say. ¡°It¡¯s important.¡±


    ¡°Is it, now?¡± The new voice came from directly behind the four black-masked figures, as Grandstand revealed herself. When they twisted around and separated to try to look at both her and the group in front of them at the same time, she continued. ¡°Believe me when I say, whatever you want to get out of this guy isn¡¯t nearly as important as what we want to get out of him. But we can all come to an arrangement. Just back off for a minute, let us have a¨C¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± The new interruption came from Eits, his second in the past couple of minutes. Rather than jump from the second floor, he had run out and around to come down the outside stairs, and was now stumbling into sight while panting even more. ¡°There¡¯s guys coming! Lots of guys, they just pulled up! Guns, big guns, maybe powers too. They¡¯re still getting organized but there¡¯s a lot of them!¡±


    Producing a shotgun seemingly from nowhere, Grandstand pointed it at the group in front of them. ¡°Friends of yours?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± the girl who had stepped on the boy¡¯s foot to stop him from talking earlier blurted in disbelief. ¡°No, they¡¯re not with us! We¡¯re not¨CI mean we¡¯re really¨Cuh.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± the second boy, who seemed to be in charge, immediately put in. ¡°Your friend over there is right.¡± He nodded toward Eits. ¡°There¡¯s about three or four truckloads of guys out there, and they¡¯re all armed to the teeth. And before you say it, there¡¯s guys back that way too.¡± He gestured toward the dark woods behind them. ¡°They parked on the dirt road over there and they¡¯re spreading out to come this way. They¡¯re trying to trap us between them. And don¡¯t ask how I know all that.¡±


    From his place on the ground, the man they had all been after started to laugh. ¡°Yeah, you stupid fucks! Thought I was just a helpless little bitch, huh? Well I¡¯ve got friends too, people I hook up with anything they need, and they¡¯re about to whip the shit outta you cocksuckers!¡± He got that much out before his words turned to a terrified noise as Mars Bar pressed very slightly down on his back and growled to remind the man of his immediate situation.


    Without hesitating even for a moment, Grandstand spoke up. ¡°Okay, sounds like they¡¯re here for all of us. So we¡¯ll just have to work together. We can figure out who gets first dibs to talk to our friend here later.¡± She nodded over her shoulder. ¡°I can handle the guys coming up behind us before they get close. Will uhh¡­¡± She paused, frowning just a little while looking at the three La Casa Touched. ¡°Will you guys be okay with this side?¡±


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re good,¡± Pack assured her. ¡°Especially with our new friends here. Err¡­¡± Blinking that way, she slowly asked, ¡°Do you guys have¡­ any weapons at all?¡±


    Before the others could respond, the first girl piped up. ¡°We¡¯ll be okay. Actually, can you explain something to your lizards so they won¡¯t freak out too much?¡± She asked that while raising both hands, holding two glowing silver egg-shapes.


    ¡°Cuz I know how we can scare the shit out of those guys.¡±


    ******


    From his position up on the roof of the motel, Colt-Syndicate stood in plain sight to look down at the people who had just shown up in the parking lot. He was invisible at the moment, so they couldn¡¯t see him anyway, and standing up like this gave him a good view of the whole group. They didn¡¯t look like any organized gang he had ever seen, given the random assortment of flannel, army camo, or just random sweatshirts. But they were definitely working together, and they were heavily armed. Whatever or whoever they were, these guys meant business.


    He was relaying all the information he could to Rabbit, while Armadillo did the same for what he could see of the group coming up through the woods behind the motel. Puma was on the far side of the street, watching the group below from behind while keeping an eye out for anyone who might come out of the bar.


    If they had to, all four Syndicates would reveal themselves. It would give away who they really were, even though they all wore the same masks and black jumpsuits. The fact that three of them were always intangible, and could only be seen as blue-gray ghost forms, would make that obvious. But if necessary, they would do it. Making sure they all got out of this alive was more important than keeping their involvement secret, no matter what that meant.


    Colt¡¯s main job right now, however, wasn¡¯t to reveal himself and the others. No, at the moment, his job was to aim. Well, he and Rabbit working together. They judged the exact distance needed, the appropriate angle, everything necessary to have the best¡­ impact.


    After one more minor adjustment, Rabbit announced, Okay, I think we¡¯re good.


    Holding his index fingers and thumbs out in the shape of a rectangle together, Colt slowly nodded. The group of whoever they were had just finished having whatever very brief discussion they were having, and were turning to head up to the motel. All good, but they¡¯re coming, so do it now, now!


    On the far side of the motel, the others did their part. An instant later, two streaks of light came flying through the motel. They were intangible, doing no damage to the building itself. But immediately after clearing the building, Lexi¡¯s power wore out as planned. Which sent Mars Bar and Holiday flying into the assembled group before they could so much as register the sudden appearance of bright lights. The panther-lizard crashed into two of the men, knocking them to the ground before catching hold of another man¡¯s waistband in her teeth to yank him down as well.


    And yet, those three were the lucky ones. A dozen more went down as a flailing Mars Bar slammed into them. Six of those were sent flying into the side of one of their trucks before collapsing in a heap, while the other six were scattered along the ground.


    Just like that, of the roughly thirty men who had rolled up and started to head into the motel, fifteen were on the ground and had absolutely no interest in getting up again. Which left another fifteen still standing, for the moment.


    But that moment didn¡¯t last long. Even as the men who hadn¡¯t been knocked over reacted to the sudden arrival of Mars Bar and Holiday, the others all came flying through the building as well. Lexi had given everyone an egg and told them to crack it against their chest. Now they were right in the midst of the suddenly-overwhelmed group.


    One man pivoted and raised his gun, only to take the butt of a shotgun to the face as Pack struck him hard. As he stumbled, she fired the gun at a second man, hitting him in the chest with a beanbag round.


    A third guy was trying to lift his own shotgun, just before Zed lunged at him from behind and managed to trail a hand down the man¡¯s arm and leg. As he did so, his power activated, creating a solid-light duplicate of the guy¡¯s shirt and pants. In this case, however, the duplications didn¡¯t move. They remained frozen in place, trapping the man in solid hologram copies of his clothes so he couldn¡¯t raise the weapon or move at all.


    The fourth and fifth men were sent flying across the street and off into the next field as Lexi hit them each with another couple eggs. At the same time, the sixth man flinched as Zed reared back, only to blink as he realized it was only a rock in his hand. Yet the boy used his power again just as he released it. And in this case, he didn¡¯t create only a single copy, nor did that copy stay where it was. Instead, he created fifty copies at once, sending all of them flying into the man until he was practically buried under solid-light rocks.


    By that point, the seventh and eighth men had managed to figure out they were under attack, and even brought their weapons up properly. But Rabbit materialized behind them (he had shifted his solid-form over to Puma briefly so he could turn invisible and get in position), catching first one, then the other with one of the Minority-issued tasers that would actually put people on the ground.


    All of which left three men out of the initial thirty still standing. But before they could do anything else, a cloud of dirt, rocks, bricks, chunks of asphalt, and other bits of debris crashed into them. They were blinded and pummeled repeatedly until they dropped to the ground and covered their heads. Jae, making sure she sent objects flying before they had time to expose her identity by shrinking down and orbiting her, walked forward with her hand outstretched.


    Finally, as the whole group of suddenly-ambushed men were trying to decide if they wanted to risk clambering back up to make a real fight of it now that their opponents had lost the element of surprise, Broadway stepped right into the middle of them before pointing both hands toward the trucks they had shown up in. A near-deafening crack of thunder blasted from the speakers on her suit, and all four vehicles were torn off the ground by the kinetic blast before being sent flying a good fifty feet through the air. They crashed down into an assortment of broken parts, several wheels rolling off out of sight.


    The men, those who were conscious enough to make any decisions, chose to stay on the ground.


    We still good, guys? Rabbit checked in with his other three selves. Only once he had gotten the affirmative did he exhale. ¡°Okay, I think we¡¯re¨C¡±


    ¡°Well, I took care of my targets,¡± Grandstand announced while coming around the corner of the motel. ¡°I sure hope you¡¯re all¨Cah. I¡¯m impressed.¡±


    She was here before, Colt noted. She has no idea we¡¯re here so she didn¡¯t use her power on us. She¡¯s pretending to be surprised, but she was watching just in case something went wrong.


    Yeah, Armadillo confirmed from his own position in the woods. She was done with these guys right when you all started your thing. Pretty sure she ran back there to keep an eye on her friends. Wait, are they friends now? Is Grandstand part of La Casa?


    That started a whole discussion amongst the others. But Rabbit was focused on the people who weren¡¯t his duplicates. ¡°Is uhh, is everyone okay?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± A small, weak voice announced as a shaky hand rose. It was one of the men who had shown up. He was pinned underneath one of Mars Bars¡¯ paws. ¡°I think¡­ I th-think I need to change my pants.¡±


    ¡°Might wanna think about that the next time you start shit,¡± Pack informed him. ¡°Mars Bar, Holiday, if any of them try to get up, bite them somewhere they¡¯ll remember it.¡±


    ¡°And how¡¯s our other friend doing?¡± Grandstand asked, gaze focused that way.


    ¡°Twinkletoes has him,¡± Pack assured her. ¡°All we¡¯ve gotta do is grab him and get out of here before more of these chucklefucks show up.¡± She glanced over her shoulder toward the still-loud bar. ¡°Or they stop serving alcohol over there.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± the woman replied before turning her attention to Rabbit, Lexi, Zed, and Jae. ¡°Well, I dunno who you guys are, but you were pretty useful. And a promise is a promise. So, let¡¯s get out of here together.


    ¡°Then we can take turns smacking answers out of that asshole. It¡¯ll be a blast.¡±


    This storyline will be continued at the end of the next arc.

 Non-Canon 23 - Birthday Saving Paige

    <div>


    She wasn¡¯t supposed to be here today. Paige, who appeared on the outside to be an ordinary twelve-year-old girl, had not been invited to Anthony Tate¡¯s birthday party. Largely because her father had no idea that Anthony even knew about her, let alone that they had become very close friends over the past couple years. It was a friendship that secretly grew whenever she managed to sneak out and play with him and Cassidy. The three of them had become nearly inseparable, despite the difficulty in actually involving Paige. Even when she couldn¡¯t be there physically, however, the girl still communicated with her two friends over the phone and online.


    It had been during one of those online conversations that Cassidy had convinced Paige to sneak out of her home while her father was in a long meeting. Anthony was having a birthday party and they were going to go together. Paige would simply be Cassidy¡®s guest, a friend from school.


    Getting Paige out of there while her father was distracted meant showing up to the party early, but Cassidy¡®s driver, Robert Parson, didn¡¯t mind. After all, it wasn¡¯t as though they couldn¡¯t find a way to entertain themselves before the party actually started. He dropped the two girls off at the house, watching as they ran inside and greeted their friend at the door.


    Over the next hour or so, the three children ran around the back yard or played in Anthony¡¯s bedroom. The boy was obviously excited for his birthday, as he was finally turning eleven, like Cassidy. He was only a couple months younger than she was, but Cassidy often teased him about that just because his reaction was so fun. But now he would be eleven too, and ¡®I¡¯m eleven and two months and you¡¯re only eleven and zero months¡¯ didn¡¯t carry the same weight as ¡®I¡¯m eleven and you¡¯re ten.¡¯ Not that she was ever mean about that, of course. It was just fun to wind him up. And considering how often said teasing led to one of them chasing the other around the backyard while shouting increasingly hilariously wild threats, Anthony ended up enjoying it as much as she did. Even if he would never admit that.


    They played tag through the hedge maze in the backyard, though Paige took care not to use anywhere near her actual full physical capabilities. She wanted to have fun with her friends, not completely dominate the whole game. So she allowed them to outrun her, deliberately missed a few of her attempted tags, and took corners just noisily enough that they could hear where she was going. She also politely pretended not to notice Cassidy hiding in one of the hedges, waiting to ambush her, and squealed in very convincing surprise as the girl jumped out.


    In all, the trio spent a very enjoyable hour together, while Anthony¡¯s family¡¯s staff set up the actual party on the back patio, near the pool. Soon, the smell of barbecue food began to fill the air, making the children start to circulate closer as their stomachs made themselves known. But Anthony¡¯s mother chased them off, informing the children that they would be called when it was time. So, the three of them went to play around the boy¡¯s treehouse in one corner of the massive yard. It was a truly impressive structure, amounting to a trio of buildings spread throughout three actual trees, with wooden bridges connecting them, two separate rope ladders at either end, and a small wooden elevator one person could sit on to be lifted up or down with the press of a button. There was also a working refrigerator and microwave in the main building so they could have snacks. Though in this case, the trio avoided that. Hungry as they were, Anthony¡¯s mother had made it very clear that they were supposed to wait for the actual birthday dinner. And that was something the boy himself didn¡¯t want to spoil. He¡¯d been waiting for this for a long time. Anthony was always allowed to choose what they had for his birthday meal, and he¡¯d chosen this barbecue set-up weeks ago.


    Eventually, the three of them sat on one of the bridges connecting the buildings through the trees and let their legs dangle off the side. Anthony, sitting between the two girls, was going on about a trip his family were going to take at the end of the school year. They would be going to several places in Europe to visit some historical sites his parents wanted to see. Most children might not have cared about that sort of thing, but Anthony had always been a bit of a history nerd. Even though he was only just barely eleven years old, the boy knew more about most of both world wars than most high school students. He and Cassidy had a game where he would tell her a fact about the wars, and she would try to guess if he was making it up or not. Paige had joined in on this once they befriended her, but she contributed many historical North and South American facts, often involving geography as much as history.


    Cassidy, meanwhile, called both of her friends nerds. But she still played along and had fun learning everything the two of them were sharing. Giving them a hard time about it didn¡¯t mean the stuff wasn¡¯t interesting and cool (not to mention terrifying sometimes), but still. She had to tease them.


    Finally, Cassidy said she had to use the bathroom. Paige went with her, and the two of them ran inside, while Anthony meandered over to look at the table full of presents. He didn¡¯t get too close, but Cassidy and Paige still heard his mother warn him not to touch them just yet and that they would be opening presents after cake and ice cream.


    Giggling to themselves, the two girls made their way inside and used the bathroom (it had three different stalls, just as many sinks, and a pair of shower stalls as it was meant for the household staff to use) while chattering together about a TV show they both liked. Neither were paying any attention to the sounds of party preparation going on through the slightly open window. But that all changed a second later, as they were leaving the bathroom. That was when a staccato burst of gunshots filled the air, followed by a single, louder one that seemed to be fired into the air.


    As soon as she heard that, Paige immediately grabbed Cassidy and yanked her back behind her, just in case. She tried to use her built-in wireless communications to contact emergency services, but couldn¡¯t get through. Something was blocking calls to the outside. This wasn¡¯t just a random attack, this was something worse. Much worse.


    Cassidy was already blurting out a question of what that sound was, as a man came around the corner in the hallway. He saw the two girls and raised his weapon, mouth opening to shout an order. But Paige was faster. With one hand, she shoved Cassidy to the floor where she would be safe. Her other hand snapped out to catch hold of a painting on the wall, tearing it off and hurling the thing. The frame of the painting hit the man square in the forehead before he could react, knocking him to the ground with a cry as his weapon went off a couple times harmlessly into the nearby wall.


    Before he could recover, Paige ran to him. Her small figure was almost a blur of motion as she grabbed the edge of a stone statuette sitting on a long shelf and slammed it down hard enough on the man¡¯s head that he went still and didn¡¯t move again. A trickle of blood leaked from where he had been struck.


    ¡°Paige!¡± Cassidy picked herself up and ran that way, stopping short. ¡°Wha-what?¡± Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the fallen man.


    Grabbing her friend by the hand, Paige dragged her into a nearby room. There was more gunfire happening outside, and elsewhere in the house. Through the large floor to ceiling windows in what turned out to be one of the bedrooms, they could see down onto the grounds one floor below. One of the maids was running across the grass just before another man stepped into view and shot her in the back. It was a sight that made Cassidy scream, but Paige covered the other girl¡¯s mouth to muffle it, lest anyone else hear.


    For a moment, the two of them stared through that window as the sight unfolded before them. It was a massacre. Any servants were being killed where they stood or ran, while the family members were being herded together down on the patio. All through the house, they could hear more gunfire and screams.


    The entire place had turned into a war zone in the past few seconds. This wasn¡¯t like the stories that Paige and Anthony told about historical battles. This was real, and it was¡­ it was¡­ bad. Cassidy found herself clinging to Paige as she made a weak, horrified sound in the back of her throat. No words would actually come out, aside from the occasional ¡®no¡¯ and ¡®please.¡¯


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The two of them both spotted Anthony at the same time. Their friend was being dragged by his hair as one of the men marched him over to his mother and started shouting questions about where someone was. But who were they--


    It was Cassidy. The men were all looking for Cassidy. This whole attack, all this murder, the massacre, it was all because they were trying to find Cassidy. Realizing that as the man shouted demands at Anthony, the girl in question made a choked sob in the back of her throat. Then, without even pausing to think at all, she lunged toward the window, intent on shouting that she was right there and they had to stop hurting people.


    But Paige knew better. That wouldn¡¯t work. These men were here to kill everyone. So, she caught hold of Cassidy¡¯s arm and yanked her back. When the girl protested, she put a finger to her lips. ¡°No, Cassie. They¡¯ll take you and they¡¯ll kill everyone else. You stay here.¡± When the other girl¡¯s mouth opened to protest, Paige spoke over her, voice firm. ¡°Stay here, Cassie. I¡¯ll get Anthony. I can help them, I promise. But you have to stay here, okay? Hide. As long as they don¡¯t know where you are and the bad guys think someone else might know, they won¡¯t kill everyone. They think someone might know where you are, so they won¡¯t¡­¡± She grimaced. ¡°Just¡­ hide here. I can stop these guys. Please, trust me.¡±


    Swallowing hard, Cassidy hesitated before reluctantly agreeing. Something about the way Paige was acting made her believe the girl when she said she could get Anthony and stop this. Maybe it was just her own terror and desperation, she wasn¡¯t sure. But, in the end, she obediently crawled under the nearby bed and hid there with both arms over her head, trembling heavily.


    Once she was sure the other girl was as safe as she could be given the circumstances, Paige made her way back to the door and paused there to listen. Two more gunshots rang out one floor below, near the pantry. It sounded as though one of the staff had tried to hide there, but it was just found. Meanwhile, she could hear a single set of footsteps approaching from the same direction as the man she had already put down. They came around the corner, and she heard the muffled gasp of surprise at the body found there. These men had come to commit a massacre. They weren¡¯t expecting any real opposition.


    More to the point, they weren¡¯t expecting any real opposition from a child. So, as Paige came into view, the man jerked toward her and raised his weapon. But then he hesitated. Clearly this small, innocent blonde girl wasn¡¯t the source of whatever had killed his partner there on the floor. But maybe she knew what--


    The thoughts that were running through the man¡¯s head were immediately cut off as Paige suddenly bounded forward. His mouth opened to blurt a command, but the girl jumped to the right. Her foot hit the long, narrow table full of pictures and knick knacks there, and she rebounded off of it to the left just as his gun was moving to track her first motion. He reflexively and unthinkingly fired a shot, which went through the wall above the table, right where she had been an instant earlier. Paige, meanwhile, bounced off the left wall that time, much closer to the man. While he was still trying to adjust his aim, she caught hold of his extended wrist with the gun. Her momentum carried her just past the man, yanking his arm along with her. As she landed on the floor, Paige was already sharply twisting the man¡¯s wrist. A jolt of blinding pain shot all the way up his arm, and he stumbled down to one knee. His mouth opened to cry out, the gun falling from his grasp. But the incredibly strong girl¡¯s fist collided with his throat with enough force that the man collapsed to the ground next to the other body. He too would never move again.


    The moment the man was down, Paige crouched and grabbed both fallen pistols. Her head was cocked to the side as she listened intently, keeping track of everything that was going on. Anthony was outside, clinging to his mother while protesting that he didn¡¯t know where Cassidy was. The girl herself, meanwhile, was still hiding under the bed in the other room, quietly sobbing to herself. But she would be okay. And so would Anthony. Paige was about to make certain of that. They had invited her to this birthday party. They were her friends. And like hell would she let these people, whoever they were, hurt her friends.


    With one gun each hand, Paige began to make her way through the house. As she reached the next hallway over, a man with a shotgun turned to face her. His sight-line was too high, looking for someone taller, and she had already put a bullet between his eyes before he adjusted. Another man dove out of the room nearby, his own gun already raised to fire. But Paige had reacted to his arrival and twisted her body so the shot went wide. Her own, however, did not. The new arrival¡¯s body fell limply on top of the other man¡¯s, his gun clattering uselessly across the floor.


    That sound was accompanied by running footsteps. Paige stepped aside from the open doorway, putting herself in the small space between a nearby potted plant and the wall. As the new man came through, she flung the door into him as hard as her considerable strength could manage. The door was strong enough to remain intact, but the man¡¯s arm was broken. His gun went flying into the opposite wall while he staggered and cried out. Before he could recover, Paige side-stepped the door as it rebounded off him, moving right into view. The man had just enough time to see his attacker, even as she used the gun in her left hand to shoot him through the eye.


    The girl was already pivoting back the other way as his body collapsed. Ahead of her were the two dead bodies from moments earlier, along with a window at the end of the hall. Her sharp ears were able to pick up the sound of the man outside losing patience with Anthony and his parents. She was out of time. No more doing this the slow way.


    To that end, Paige began to sprint forward as fast as she could go. Reaching the pair of corpses, she hopped over them. In mid-leap, the girl extended her right hand back the way she had come, firing two quick shots without looking, simply by using the reflection in the window she was running toward. The first tore through the throat of one man who had been peeking into the room to line up a shot, then continued on to go through the mouth of the man behind him. The second, meanwhile, traveled all the way down the hall to hit the knee of another man who was running up them. He fell backward and began tumbling down those stairs, crashing into several other men who had been right behind him.


    In the next instant, Paige reached the window. She pointed the other gun ahead of herself, firing two quick shots to break the thing just before launching herself through it. The window overlooked the patio, where the man in charge was standing with six men scattered around with all the dead bodies. Anthony was there, clinging to his mother while both cowered at the leader¡¯s feet. His father was¡­ oh, lying dead in the pool.


    All the men involved looked up and over as the bullets came flying through the shattering window, followed by Paige herself. Before they could start to react beyond that, she had already twisted in midair and shot three of the men in rapid succession. Hitting the ground in a roll while they were still falling, her foot lashed out to kick one of the lounge chairs. It was sent skidding along the cement to slam into the legs of the fourth man, knocking him forward over it. The fifth and sixth men fired, but their shots were hasty. Paige continued rolling, allowing both bullets to ricochet off the ground where she had just been.


    That put her directly behind the lounge chair and the man who had just fallen into it. She rose, dropping one of the guns in the process so she could catch hold of the chair to lift it up. The man was pushed along with it, right into the line of fire as both other men and their leader opened up. He took five bullets to the chest, while Paige used him as a human shield. Then she shoved him and the chair forward, sending both flying into the nearest shooter so he fell backward into the pool. The other thug took a bullet to the throat.


    Their leader, standing right over Anthony and his mother, reached down to grab the boy by the hair. ¡°Dunno who the fuck you are,¡± he snarled while putting his gun at the small child¡¯s head, ¡°but let¡¯s play a little--¡±


    That was as far as he got, before Paige put one bullet into the gun to knock it away from Anthony¡¯s head, and a second right between his eyes. He pitched over backward, yanking the boy with him in the process. But Paige got there first, catching Anthony before he could fall on the corpse. She yanked him back, giving Anthony a quick, yet firm hug before shoving him toward his sobbing mother. Both embraced, sobbing in one another¡¯s arms right there on the ground.


    Hearing a splash in the pool where she had knocked the last man, Paige snapped her remaining pistol that way. But another shot rang out first. A shot from behind her. The bullet took that last thug in the face, knocking his body back into the water. Paige spun back that way, weapon raised in time to see¡­ Cassidy¡¯s driver, Robert. The large black man stood there, with Cassidy herself clinging to his shoulders.


    Both Robert and Paige stared at one another with their weapons raised, before lowering them. Robert¡¯s gaze passed over the scene, taking all of it in gradually before he spoke. ¡°Well then.


    ¡°This is gonna be one hell of a report.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-01

    My¨Cour parents weren¡¯t home the next morning (Sunday) when Izzy and I got up. Which was just fine with us, given we had plenty to do that day as it was. Especially considering what the others had put into place overnight. Between that and the whole thing with Inessa and her brother¡¯s vault, it really was no wonder that the Ministry was busy. Part of me wondered if our parents had gotten any sleep at all the night before, but I pushed that feeling of guilt away as firmly as I could. After everything that had happened and the sort of things they were responsible for, they could deal with a busy night. Hell, for all I knew, Dad had a super-energy pill or something to help with it. That would explain how he managed to be a superhero, successful businessman, and help run a criminal conspiracy at the same time. Actually, come to think of it, that was probably still too much even if he never slept at all.


    Izzy and I watched the news on our phones in the dining room while we were eating our breakfast. Of course, they were talking about the biggest story of the day, or possibly of the whole year. The news that someone had ended up trapped on Breakwater before two Star-Touched had secretly been sent in to save her wasn¡¯t exactly going to fly under the radar.


    Oh sure, there were plenty who doubted the story. They had news consultants and experts on every channel it seemed like, all of them arguing about whether something like this was possible or not. There was discussion about security measures, about the sort of paperwork that would have to have been filed with the local governments, about this being an elaborate prank, and about it being completely real. The arguments ran across the political spectrum. There were plenty who were using it as an excuse to show why Breakwater was a bad idea to begin with, while others crowed about this being the first problem of its kind and how that proved how incredibly secure and safe the place was. After all, if one person getting accidentally stuck there, a one in a billion chance, ended up being such a pain in the ass to retrieve, then of course it meant it would be impossible for anyone who was supposed to be there to actually escape.


    Of course people had reached out to Breakwater itself, but they weren¡¯t giving any statements yet. There was talk about several governments investigating, including a congressional committee here in the States. Some of that was just politicians trying to jump on something that would make a name for themselves, but still. All of this meant that Breakwater couldn¡¯t just sweep it under the rug. Which was the entire point. We¡¯d intentionally pointed as big of a spotlight as we could at the place to keep everyone¡¯s eyes on it long enough to pull this off.


    As planned, the news stories the others had dropped off weren¡¯t about pointing fingers and being accusatory, even if some of the analysts took it that way. For the most part, we had made it look as so we were praising Breakwater for their quick action and incredible competence. This whole thing was about making it look as though Flea and Trivial had already rescued Irelyn, and now they were just in debrief with the Breakwater people. That way, they couldn¡¯t just make the pair disappear and shrug their shoulders.


    To that end, Paige and Sierra hadn¡¯t simply delivered some photoshopped pictures of the broken boat. No, they had gone far above and beyond that. Some of the papers they had dropped off at the various news organizations looked like photocopies of actual orders and memos from Breakwater. Stuff about gathering information about the intruder on the island, about where she had come from, her movements, and how to recruit a couple Star-Touched from her own home city to help handle the situation without causing a panic. We didn¡¯t make them look perfect, of course. That wouldn¡¯t have been realistic, and we still wanted them to squirm at least a little bit. There were notes in there about how bad this would look if it got out, and that they needed to handle it quickly and quietly. But for the most part, they came off looking competent, at the very least. Especially considering we had made it look as though their plan had worked. There were notes in the end about how the two Star-Touched had successfully retrieved the lost woman without suffering any fatalities.


    Of course this whole thing would blow up in everyone¡¯s face if there had already been a major, obvious problem on the island that wasn¡¯t covered in the notes. But we were trying not to focus on that possibility. All that mattered was getting them off that island, and now we had given Breakwater the best excuse they could possibly have to just pick them up and let them go. Of course they would have to convince the pair to go along with the cover story that we had given them, but that was also something we couldn¡¯t affect right now. We just had to hope Flea and Trivial would go with it.


    This was undoubtedly the hardest part of this whole thing. We¡¯d pulled the trigger on everything we could do, and now we just had to sit here and wait. We couldn¡¯t affect anything else, not when it came to this. We were stuck watching to see how Breakwater would handle it.


    And if this was hard for me, I couldn¡¯t even imagine what it was like for Paige and Sierra. They had lit the dynamite and tossed it out into the world. Now they had to sit around waiting to see what happened.


    Or, apparently not. At least as far as the sitting around bit went. I learned the truth about that after Izzy went off for a meeting with the Minority people and I made my way to the shop. According to Wren, who was eating fried chicken at ten o¡¯clock in the morning, the other two were out again already. Something about sneaking into a couple of these news and government places to eavesdrop on what was actually being said in the background. They wanted to get a better idea of how things were going beyond what was actually being reported on the news.


    Yeah, I should¡¯ve known better than to assume that Paige would be patiently sitting around the shop. I just hoped that whatever they were doing to sneak into these places wouldn¡¯t end up with my parents being called to come pick up their daughter. Sure, Sierra had changed her hair color and stuff like that, but still. The whole idea made me even more anxious.


    Gnawing on a chicken leg while perching cross-legged on one of the glass counters near the register, Wren beamed my way. ¡°It¡¯s okay, we did the hard part already. Now it¡¯s up to them. We just have to wait and see what happens, you know?¡± With that, she took a big gulp of lemonade and made a sound of contentment. She had done her part, at least as far as that went. Now there was nothing else she could do to affect the situation, so she wasn¡¯t worrying about it. Boy, wouldn¡¯t that have been nice?


    My head shook as I gave a soft sigh. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not exactly sure that¡¯s what I would call the easy part. It¡¯s hard to just sit around and hope things work out. Especially when it comes to something like this. I keep feeling like I should be out there doing something to help, you know?¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± That was Fred, who settled back in an easy chair next to the register with his own plate of chicken. They¡¯d offered me some when I came in, but I was still full from breakfast, so I¡¯d declined. ¡°Do you have some super-special color paint that can take you all the way to that prison island that you¡¯ve just been holding back this whole time for the heck of it?¡± When I shook my head, he gestured. ¡°Well, there you go. You can¡¯t do anything about it right now. Heck, you¡¯ve even got Paige and Sierra out there doing the sneaky-sneak parts to find out what the people who do have some authority are doing. Just wait to find out what they come back with. Maybe there¡¯ll be something you can actually contribute to.¡± He gave a self-depreciating snort then, eyes rolling. ¡°Maybe that will even be something I can do besides sit around and be the denmoth¨Cuncle, denuncle. Is that a thing? Eh, it is now. Even if it does sound like a freaking Pokemon.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He had a point, of course. Er, about the me not being able to affect the situation thing. I couldn¡¯t do anything important right then, so I simply moved to a corner and started working on my homework for the next day. I could¡¯ve done that at home, but I felt the need to be here at the shop, just in case.


    The sound of the bell ringing by the door as someone came in startled me, and my gaze snapped up, body reflexively tensing and ready for trouble. But, lo and behold, it was just a customer. An actual real life customer for the pawn/repair shop. In this case, he was there for the repair side, having brought in an old broken betamax player. Apparently it had belonged to his grandmother and he wanted to be able to watch some of her old videos. I watched from the corner as Fred made a show of turning the thing over to examine it from every angle before telling the man he could come back for it in an hour. The guy seemed surprised that it would be that fast, and Fred asked if he¡¯d prefer it take a week. The man quickly apologized, thanked him and promised to be back in the hour before making his way out. He barely even glanced my way through the whole thing. Still, part of me wondered if I should go upstairs if customers were going to start visiting.


    Pushing myself up, I stepped over that way and asked, ¡°You think Wren can fix that thing in an hour? She hasn¡¯t even looked at it.¡±


    He snorted at me, setting the thing down on the counter gently before reaching out to pick up a screwdriver and a small flashlight. ¡°The kid isn¡¯t coming anywhere near this little beauty. She¡¯d probably put a rocket pack on it and send the thing to the moon or something.¡±


    Wren, for her part, bobbed her head in quick agreement. ¡°I do like rockets, they¡¯re fun!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve fixed plenty of these in my time,¡± Fred informed me while starting to work on the betamax player. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. I may not be a superpowered genius, but I can work on this.¡±


    More customers did come in over that hour, and I ended up not going upstairs after all. Instead, I took down their information, helped them find things they were looking for, and generally lost myself in working as a random, anonymous employee. It was nice, especially considering I doubted any of the people who had come in would remember my face two seconds after leaving. I was just a nobody, someone who helped sell them whatever they needed (or failed to do so). Between that and getting my actual homework done, it helped take my mind off worrying about the Breakwater situation, the Inessa one, the one where someone was possibly targeting the Minority¨Cyeah, all of it. I was able to clear my head pretty well. Not that it would last, but still.


    Eventually, Murphy and Roald came in, and they started helping out too. Not just with customers, but with some of the minor repairs. Fred and Wren supervised that, simply giving instructions about what to do, while we did the grunt work.


    After several hours of that, things finally slowed down. The three of us who were actually high school students did our homework together, even though we didn¡¯t have the same classes. It still helped to bounce things off each other. Besides, the other two were weirdly interested in what sort of classes and lessons I had in what they called my spoiled rich shit school.


    It turned out most of the stuff they were currently working on was at least a grade level or two behind what I had been assigned when I was in their grade. Not because I was smarter, to say the least. It was because my teachers focused on more advanced stuff, because they had the support and supplies needed to teach it properly. Not to mention the way the parents, including my own, would push for that. The more I heard about Murphy and Roald¡¯s school, the more clear it was that I really needed to push my parents to contribute some real funds to schools like that. They deserved more than they were getting, and it wasn¡¯t like doing so would be hard. I was relatively certain we could double their annual budget with what was in our couch cushions.


    I also spent part of that time texting back-and-forth with Ryder about that whole situation. And no, I was still not even close to being accustomed to the idea that fucking Arleigh and her family were actually Sherwood. Out of all the things I¡¯ve had to deal with and accept, that one was coming close to breaking my brain. Not the idea that she was a villain, naturally. No, the part I couldn¡¯t accept was her being a nature-loving villain. Or at least pretending to be one. I couldn¡¯t even believe that she was able to fake something like that so well. She was incredibly good at playing both roles, to the point that part of me wondered which was the real her. Because Clime was just¡­ a flower girl hippy type. A violent flower girl hippy, but still.


    In any case, the two of us caught each other up as best as we could, while also joking around a fair bit. That, probably more than anything else, helped calm me down. Talking to Ryder, even simply by texting over the phone, was just¡­ nice. Even though we were talking about very serious and dangerous things, it was easy to talk to him. Now that he knew who I was, and vice versa, it had removed a wall between us. We were able to just chat about everything, and about nothing. Was it weird that I could spend ten minutes talking about various jelly bean flavors and what the absolute worst, yet still edible type would be? And did the fact that that was mixed in with also talking about things like Jennica make that better or worse?


    We also had the news on throughout the day, just in case. Not that there was anything new to hear about. The bomb was still gradually exploding. Or maybe this was more like the aftershocks. Either way, they weren¡¯t saying anything that I hadn¡¯t heard already. They were just going over the facts again in the end, about how long ago Flea and Trivial had last been active, who the mystery woman who had ended up on the island in the first place could be, and everything else. There were people who reported having seen the two Star-Touched long after I knew they wouldn¡¯t have been around. Part of me wondered if that was a cover-up from the Ministry or from the law enforcement themselves to help hide their identities. Honestly, did the difference really matter at that point?


    Finally, Paige and Sierra showed up. They had a little more news than what was being reported. Apparently the Star-Touched organizations were taking it incredibly seriously and had actually confirmed via back channels with Breakwater that there were indeed a couple on the island who matched Flea and Trivial¡¯s descriptions. They also assured them that all efforts were being taken to ensure a safe exit for everyone involved. Of course, all of that led to discussions and arguments about whose fault this whole thing was and who bore ultimate responsibility. Not just for the initial situation, but also for the leaking of the information. There was a lot of finger-pointing going on, but thankfully, none of it seemed to be coming anywhere near us. Not that that was all that surprising, considering how much care we had taken to cover our tracks, but still. Things could easily have gone wrong with that whole thing. Part of me had half-expected the people in charge to figure out it was us within an hour or two.


    Still, it seemed like it was going to take more time for the people in charge to work all that out. But, things were moving in the right direction. The fact that Breakwater admitted those two were there in the first place and weren¡¯t trying to lie about it was a pretty good sign. Hopefully this whole thing would be resolved without us needing to lift another finger.


    On the other hand, now that she couldn¡¯t do anything else about that situation, Paige was fully focused on what I had been doing at the park the day before. Specifically, all the paint combinations. She had me walk her through exactly how it happened and what I did. And she had a few choice words to say about my way of experimenting, making it clear that we were going to do some very in-depth testing in safer conditions. And yes, I was pretty sure she drooled a little when saying words like testing and experiments. No way was I going to get out of that now.


    But we didn¡¯t have time to get into it too much before the phone rang. The phone, the one we used for talking to Pittman.


    Sure enough, it was him. The system told us he was coming from the same location we¡¯d tracked before. It had to be him. Staring at the phone as it rang, I picked it up and looked at the others. ¡°Well, I¡¯m guessing he¡¯s heard the news and knows we don¡¯t have to work with him after all.


    ¡°So, let¡¯s see just how pissed off he is, shall we?¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-02

    The answer to the question of how pissed Pittman was, as it turned out, was very. Apparently it wasn¡¯t that hard for the man to put together that we were the ones behind this sudden revelation in the news (more confirmation that he had contact with the outside world that he shouldn¡¯t have had). He spent a good minute ranting to me about what was going to happen to the two Star-Touched on that island now that we had fucked him over. Nor was he particularly happy when I let him know that we were already aware that he didn¡¯t have them anyway, so his threats were meaningless.


    But you know what probably pissed him off the most? The fact that, while he was gearing up for another rant about how we could have worked together and made everyone happy, I disconnected. And boy was that a satisfying click. Putting the phone away, I looked up to Paige, Sierra, Murphy, Roald, Fred, and Wren staring at me. Their looks made me shrug. ¡°The dude already plotted my death for years from inside the most secure prison on the planet. What else is he gonna do, exactly, if I annoy him as Paintball too? He can go suck an egg.¡± Pausing briefly, I added, ¡°Whatever that means. Seriously, what kind of egg¨Cnever mind. The point is, he¡¯s already pissed off and I didn¡¯t particularly feel like standing there and letting him yell at me all day.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could¡¯ve hung up on him like that,¡± Paige murmured before shaking that off. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ve got the list of equipment he wanted us to put together, and we still have the address in Utah to check out at some point. Some of us, anyway. Maybe some of that¡¯ll help figure out his backup plans. But either way, those government groups better motivate the hell out of Breakwater to cough up Irelyn and the others.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Sierra agreed while hopping up to perch on the counter next to Wren. ¡°Cuz if government agencies wagging their fingers at you isn¡¯t good motivation to do what they say, what is?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± I pointed out, dragging a stool around so I could drop myself onto it. ¡°They¡¯ve got official eyes on them now, and if I know anything about ordinary prisons from the stuff I¡¯ve read, they don¡¯t really like that. I¡¯d bet a place like Breakwater is even more averse to it. They¡¯re gonna want to make the public and government people happy as fast as they can. Which means playing along with our little story.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure they won¡¯t just say, ¡®nope, never heard of those people, that¡¯s totally made up?¡¯¡± Murphy put in, before grimacing. ¡°I mean, sorry to be the Debbie Downer.¡±


    Roald, standing beside her, shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s possible, isn¡¯t it? They could just pretend this whole thing is a prank or something and ride it out.¡± Glancing to his friend, he added, ¡°I guess we can be Debbie Downers together. Or, wait, is it Debbies Downer? That always confuses me.¡±


    It was Fred who addressed the actual point, still sitting on his normal seat behind the register. ¡°The ball¡¯s already rolling. The public thinks it¡¯s true, and you can¡¯t put a genie back in the bottle that easily. If they try to say it¡¯s all a lie, they¡¯ll still have a bunch of those people sniffing around. Hell, it¡¯ll probably threaten their budget. That¡¯s the real way to get those types to piss their pants. Easier for them all around if they just play along, hand the three of them over, and act like it was all part of the plan. Still makes them look a little bad considering a random civilian accidentally ended up on their prison island and then try to keep it secret, but it¡¯s better than the alternative.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah, what he said,¡± I agreed with a gesture that way. ¡°This was our best chance to pull that off anyway. And I don¡¯t exactly feel bad about putting that sort of pressure on them, since I refuse to believe they didn¡¯t know those guys were on the island. They were willing to just leave them there to protect their precious reputation, so we took that option away from them.¡±


    Paige straightened up, moving to pluck a random piece of a vacuum off one of the shelves. ¡°It was the best move. The only move. No way would our dad actually keep his end of that deal and help get them off the island. And even if he did, getting him off wouldn¡¯t be worth it. He¡¯s too dangerous. Look at what he¡¯s been able to do while he¡¯s in there. Giving him free rein to go anywhere in the world and get all the resources he could¨C¡± Cutting herself off, she sighed. ¡°That can¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t!¡± That was Wren, looking up from some weird machine she was putting together in the corner. I had no idea if it was something special, or just the girl randomly tinkering with nothing in particular in mind. The way she worked, it could go either way. Maybe it was a sandwich baggie dispenser. It kind of looked like one of those. ¡°They¡¯re gonna let all three of them off that jail place.¡± Before we could say anything to that, she added, ¡°And I¡¯m not just being a dumb kid who doesn¡¯t know how the world works or anything. Things are really scary around here right now, cuz of the gang war, and the stupid people trying out for the Scions, and¡­ and all sorts of stuff. But the Ministry wants to keep things in control, right? They need superheroes here for that. So they¡¯ll put all the power and like, uh, resources and stuff they¡¯ve got into making the jail people play nice.¡±


    ¡°Kid¡¯s got a point,¡± Sierra muttered, sounding grudgingly admiring. ¡°But now there¡¯s nothing else we can do except wait and see what happens.¡±


    Paige, however, shook her head. ¡°Oh yes there is.¡± Her gaze turned to me, eyes narrowing pointedly in a way that weirdly reminded me of just how horrible she had been to me for so long. It was a thought that I pushed aside as firmly as I could. ¡°You can tell us exactly what you did yesterday with that whole ¡®combining paint¡¯ thing. The whole story.


    ¡°And this time, you don¡¯t get to blurt a few confusing words and then run off.¡±


    ******


    So, I spent the next little while getting into all that. Needless to say, Paige and the others were all pretty curious about the whole thing. The options that even just the combined paints I had already figured out opened up were pretty incredible. And who knew what other combinations I could put together?


    Unfortunately, it was going to be awhile before we got into that. Paige really wanted me to spend the next couple hours going through all of it, but I had barely finished going through the paints I¡¯d already used when my mother called and asked me to come home early so I could clean up and get dressed to go out. We were having family dinner at a restaurant that night to celebrate the Izzy adoption thing. And apparently Mom wanted to make sure we got through all that and made it back home before, as she put it, those violent psychopaths wake up from their naps and decide to start fighting again.


    Part of me wondered briefly what the real reason was for why she wanted to get this dinner done with earlier than usual. Then I realized it almost certainly had to do with the Breakwater thing. That situation was probably moving about as fast as they could manage, but the big stuff wouldn¡¯t happen until later. Mom wanted to keep our normal dinner, especially with Izzy. But things were also probably going to start happening pretty quickly tonight. At least, I hoped that was the reason. I really wanted to see the news report that Flea and Trivial were on a plane back here. I kept glancing at my phone, praying for a social media blow-up about it. Of course there was nothing so far. Stuff didn¡¯t happen that quickly. Even if the Breakwater people had already gotten them off the island, they would be¡­ laying down the strict rules about what they were allowed to say once they were out in public.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Yeah, I had no idea how they were going to enforce that sort of thing. And thinking about it made me nervous, to say the least. But right now all that mattered was getting them off that island and back here. We would deal with anything else when the time came.


    So, I had to tell the others that we have to pick this up another time. Promising to keep checking in and that they should tell me if they found out anything else, I headed out. As far as my mother knew, I was practicing some tricks at a smaller, out-of-the-way park that wasn¡¯t currently blanketed with law-enforcement investigation people. Which meant I had a perfect excuse for paint-racing home. Mom expected me to be all sweaty. That¡¯s why she made a point of calling for me to come home early and get cleaned up. Honestly, if I had shown up still all clean and fresh, she would¡¯ve known something was up. Which was why I not only paint-ran most of the way home, but also took care to get myself dirty once I¡¯d gotten close enough to change into my regular clothes. I quite literally rolled myself in the dirt and grass to sell the illusion.


    Well, that and also because it was fun. How often do you have a really good excuse to roll in the dirt? Especially in clothes that were bought with supervillain money. I may have gotten just a little too much enjoyment out of that.


    Once I made my way inside, suitably dirty and disheveled, along with the skateboard I had hidden on the far side of the wall surrounding our property, Mom took one look at me and made a noise that was part chuckle and part groan. ¡°I see I didn¡¯t make a mistake by pulling you in early.¡± Her hand reached out to gently brush over the dirt I had painstakingly put on my cheek. ¡°Please tell me you had a good time, at least. Better than yesterday. I know it must have been as disappointing as it was frightening, considering how you feel about that girl.¡±


    I made myself shrug, playing the part of a kid who didn¡¯t want her mother to worry so much. ¡°Sure, it was pretty scary, I guess. But like I said, I didn¡¯t really see that much. I just hid.¡± With that, I made a point of injecting annoyance and self-recrimination into my voice. If I acted like a terrified child the whole time, Mom would never buy it. But she would believe that I had been scared in the moment but now wanted to move past it and was annoyed at myself for not actually doing anything to help.


    It worked. Mom used two fingers to tilt my head up to look at her. ¡°And we are very glad for that. You are not a soldier or a police officer. If you ever see anything like that, hiding is exactly what you should do. It stops the bad guys from hurting you, and keeps you out of the way for the people who are actually trained to help. Hiding under that car was the best thing you could have done, okay?¡±


    Oh boy was there an awful lot I wanted to say to that. But, of course, I kept myself under control and simply offered my mother a small smile. ¡°Sure, I guess. Izzy¡¯s the real superhero around here anyway. Where is she?¡± Right after saying that, I made a noise of realization. ¡°Ohhh she¡¯s probably doing Minority stuff, huh?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be home soon enough,¡± Mom assured me with a smile. ¡°For now, perhaps you should go get cleaned up. We¡¯ll be leaving within the hour. Oh, and I do hope you worked up an appetite while you were out.¡± She winked. ¡°Your father really wants to spoil Izzy tonight, so I have a feeling he¡¯ll be pulling out all the stops to make this a memorable meal.¡±


    I could think of a few ways it could be memorable, but I sure as hell wasn¡¯t about to suggest any of them. Instead, I simply promised to be ready soon, before jogging upstairs with my skateboard tucked under one arm. On the way, I passed Simon coming down while talking on the phone with one of his friends. Or maybe it was one of the Ministry people. Or both. Hell, maybe he was talking to a girl. It wasn¡¯t like every last thing he did had to revolve around the Ministry.


    Yeah, okay, I¡¯d rather think about my brother plotting mysterious things with a secret criminal underworld than about him being romantic with a girl. Blech. Honestly, there were a lot of things I¡¯d rather think about than that. My brother¡¯s love life wasn¡¯t exactly on my top one thousand list of stuff I had any interest in.


    Pushing that thought far, far out of my mind, I grabbed a set of nice clothes (a teal silk shirt and black slacks) from my room before taking a long, hot shower. Partly because it helped me relax a bit, and partly because it took awhile to get clean. Maybe I had overdone the whole rolling in the dirt thing just a little bit. But at least it was sufficiently convincing for my mother so she didn¡¯t ask any uncomfortable questions.


    In any case, we had dinner at an out-of-the way restaurant. It was a nice place on the edge of town where they were very discreet. But more than that, their owner and head chef was a genius when it came to food. Seriously, that wasn¡¯t hyperbole. Her name was Nadia Campbell and she was literally a Tech-Touched with a focus on cooking rather than building machines or weapons or whatever.


    Technically I wasn¡¯t supposed to know that she was Touched, it wasn¡¯t like she went around advertising it to everyone. But I¡¯d heard my parents talking about her even before I¡¯d found out about the Ministry. Nadia used to be the teacher for our own chef, Claudio. Dad tried to hire her to come to the house, but she didn¡¯t go for it so he hired Claudio, her protege.


    If he was good at cooking, Nadia was the master. And she made certain everyone who worked in her kitchen followed her instructions. I had had a meal that was prepared by her personally a couple times before, though it wasn¡¯t a regular occurrence by any means. She didn¡¯t seem to care about my family¡®s money, or any money really, aside from what it took to keep her restaurant afloat and allow her to do her work.


    No, despite all the money and influence they had, Nadia only agreed to personally cook for my family on very special occasions. The most recent one had been my sweet sixteen, back in January. But apparently she had agreed to this meal after finding out about Izzy agreeing to be adopted. And boy was that ever a good way to make this time memorable.


    Izzy, for her part, didn¡¯t really understand what the big deal was. Not at first, anyway. And she was even more confused when there didn¡¯t turn out to be any menus to look at. We just sat down in the private room at the back of the restaurant and one of Nadia¡¯s assistants came out to talk to everyone. It wasn¡¯t her, but that wasn¡¯t surprising either. The small, deceptively young-looking black woman rarely directly spoke to any customers. Or anyone else, as far as I knew. She wasn¡¯t the most sociable person, which was probably another reason why she turned down my family¡®s offer.


    Instead of menus, Nadia¡®s assistant, a man named Tumaini, talked with all of us. Some of it was about what sort of food we liked, but it was also seemingly random conversation. It went on for just a few minutes before the man smiled, thanked us for coming, and went out again.


    After he left, Izzy hesitantly asked what that was all about. With a chuckle, Dad replied, ¡°The woman here, Nadia, let¡¯s just say she¡¯s very special. She was listening to all that, and she¡¯ll use the conversation to design a meal for everyone here. It¡¯s what she does, and she¡¯s quite good at it.¡±


    Izzy was able to find out just how good Nadia was pretty soon, as our meals were eventually brought back to the table. My own food was an Italian pasta dish with semi-spicy meatballs and a creamy sauce that made my taste buds want to jump onto the table and start dancing. Izzy, meanwhile, had some sort of salmon dish with fingerling potatoes, which were apparently good enough to leave her completely shocked after just one bite. Though the shock didn¡¯t last long, probably because it would have meant taking longer before actually eating the stuff.


    Mom, Dad, and Simon had their own meals that were clearly just as good. We dug into the meals in earnest, while occasionally talking. The main subject was, naturally, Izzy. She blushed a lot and mumbled, apparently not sure how to handle being the center of attention like this. But I could tell she was having a good time regardless. We all were.


    Mom insisted we not have phones at the table while we were eating, so despite my anxiousness to know what was happening with the Breakwater thing, I couldn¡¯t keep checking up on it.


    When we left the restaurant and all piled into the back of the limousine, however, I immediately dug the phone out of my pocket and checked. It didn¡¯t take long to find what I was looking for, and a lot of it. Fourteen messages from Paige and the others, along with nine news alerts, and a couple phone calls. All of which amounted to the same thing.


    Flea and Trivial had been found and would be coming home soon.

 Center Of Attention 26-03

    Obviously, they weren¡¯t just going to fly the missing Star-Touched right back here to Detroit, pat them on the head, and let them go immediately. We didn¡¯t even get any current video of them, so there was no way to know for sure what sort of condition they were in. Instead, there were simply reports from the prison itself that they had picked all three women up and would be bringing them home as soon as they went through various debriefings and medical examinations to ensure they were safe. But according to the report, there are no serious injuries.


    That was reassuring, to say the least. Now that they had publicly acknowledged that the women were with them, it would be much harder for Breakwater to just make them disappear and pretend they had no idea what anyone was talking about. It took an enormous load off my shoulders.


    And if I felt better about it, Paige and Sierra were like totally new people judging by the conversations we had online and over texts that night. Oh, there was still suspicion there, of course. Especially on Sierra¡¯s part. Neither of them would be exactly satisfied until Irelyn was right in front of them. But still, this was pretty positive and we all knew it.


    At the very least, it helped me get to sleep that night without feeling too guilty and anxious. Which was a real treat, for sure. I had school the next morning, and the whole weekend had been long and draining. Getting good news to cap it off was just the thing I¡¯d needed, so I decided to crash before anything could happen to ruin that. It was basically a ¡®stick my fingers in my ears and pretend there¡¯s nothing bad going on so I can fall asleep¡¯ defense.


    As for school itself the next day, it was, well, busy. There were a lot of people talking about the Flea and Trivial thing, and how they had gone in to save ¡®the unknown woman.¡¯ And boy was there a lot of speculation about who that was. People weren¡¯t sure if Breakwater was covering up her identity, or the news, or the government, or all of the above. The fact that she was someone who lived here in Detroit prompted everyone to start asking one another which important people in the city they hadn¡¯t seen in awhile. And yes, my mother¡¯s name came up. As did a few others I recognized. But no one could agree on whether they¡¯d been seen, or even seen closely enough to be certain they were that person and not some sort of double. To say nothing of all the talk of holograms or shapeshifters or whatnot. When that subject came up, I felt like the living embodiment of the awkward look monkey puppet meme.


    In any case, Amber and I spent some time out on the bleachers by the football field, well away from anyone else. We talked a lot about what had happened Saturday at the park, as well as the whole Breakwater thing. She seemed distracted, but when I asked about it, she just said it was a personal situation and she¡¯d be fine. So I asked if Jae was doing okay after that whole weird situation with the maybe homeless guy. According to Amber, she was also fine, but there was a little bit of hesitation there that made me think she wasn¡¯t completely sure.


    Or maybe she just didn¡¯t want to talk about Jae having a boyfriend in Damarko. I had seen the two of them (Jae and Damarko, that was) talking again at the edge of the school grounds when I was dropped off, and whatever it was about, they seemed pretty close. But I still didn¡¯t know if Amber was aware of that situation or not. Or if she was pointedly ignoring it. He was already their friend, so I could see how that might be a little weird. But it definitely wasn¡¯t my place to push. I had enough stuff going on as it was anyway. Not to mention how dangerously close I was veering toward being a gossip. So, I just let it go.


    On the other hand, Amber did want to talk a lot about Izzy agreeing to be adopted. Obviously, we both knew that entire situation was a lot more complicated than it was even on the surface, and it was already complicated there. Izzy knew what she was getting into, and had apparently talked it over with Amber a bit as she was coming to her own decision. As for Amber, she wasn¡¯t sure how she felt about Izzy being adopted by the people in charge of the Ministry, considering she still thought they might have been responsible (at least in some way) for the guy who killed her dad getting away. That made things even more complicated, and I promised if there was any chance to find out if they were involved or knew anything about it, I would help her find answers.


    After all that business at school, I spent a little time at home with Izzy as we made a whole big deal about playing games together to celebrate the adoption. Mom and Dad had already put the paperwork in the day before (it being Sunday didn¡¯t matter at all for various obvious reasons), and the judge would be going through it over the next couple days. It wouldn¡¯t take long at all before Izzy was officially and legally my sister. Not that I needed anyone to tell me anything ¡®officially and legally¡¯ for that to be true at this point. I¡¯d only known the other girl for a short time, but it still felt like she¡¯d been around for much longer. Was that just because I had needed someone in my family I could completely trust and confide in?


    That was part of it, sure. But not the whole thing. Izzy was amazing all on her own, no matter what my own situation was. Her being here, knowing things, and me being able to confide in her was clearly one of the luckiest things that had ever happened to me. And, to be quite clear, my life was already pretty damn lucky to begin with, despite its complications.


    So, Izzy and I made our appearances in the house to make sure we looked appropriately giddy about the situation. Not that it really mattered all that much given Mom and Dad weren¡¯t even home (but I was sure Mom would ask the staff how we were and if we seemed okay). Then she went off to do Minority stuff, and I made my way to the shop to check in.


    Peyton was already there when I arrived, apologizing for being stuck with her mother the day before. I tried to tell her it was fine, but she informed me, with a slightly haunted look, that her mother had dragged her through something called a ¡®craft fair,¡¯ whatever that was, and that it definitely wasn¡¯t fine. She looked like she had just been through a war. When Fred asked if she¡¯d rather spend a few more hours at one of those, or fight more super-heated zombies, she had to think about it.


    Unfortunately, it was Murphy and Roald who wouldn¡¯t be joining us today. They were stuck babysitting at home, since Roald¡¯s sister Rubi had an important meeting at work to try to get a raise while his little sister was having friends over for some sort of party.


    All of which meant it was just Fred, Wren, Peyton, and me waiting there when Sierra showed up on her own. She came in the front door, just like a customer, holding up this silver-topped cane she had apparently found lying around the Banners house. The girl was going on about how it had a taser in the tip that she could either poke someone with or shoot out a full fifty feet if needed, and wasn¡¯t that cool?


    ¡°Sierra,¡± I finally interrupted my blonde doppelganger once I could get a word in edgewise. ¡°Where¡¯s Paige? We thought she was with you.¡± She had come in all by herself, and considering how long she had been talking about the cane without the other girl coming through the door behind her, seemed to be alone.


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    ¡°Huh?¡± Looking up from the cane, Sierra made a dismissive noise. ¡°Oh, that, she¡¯s talking to people from the Ministry over at the house.¡±


    Needless to say, that provoked a reaction. Especially from Wren, who was sitting cross-legged on top of the glass counter. Even as the rest of us were jerking a bit in surprise, the younger girl fell over backwards with a yelp. There was a crashing sound behind the counter that sounded like a bunch of metal pans falling over, and Fred gave a visible flinch.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± Wren called out, popping back to her feet with her hands up. ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± Only then did she notice the metal colander on her head, quickly taking it off with a blush. ¡°Uncle Fred¡¯s showing me how to cook!¡± She added that bit while holding up the colander proudly.


    Ignoring the fact that that didn¡¯t really explain why there was all that stuff downstairs behind the counter, I focused on the much more important and immediate situation. Which was Sierra, who happened to be curiously poking through a shelf full of random stuff with her new cane. My mouth opened, but before I could actually say anything, Peyton beat me to the punch.


    ¡°What do you mean, she¡¯s talking to the Ministry?!¡± All of her marbles were spinning in circles around her head like a multicolored halo or something. In most cases, it would have been distracting. But now? Now I barely noticed.


    Sierra, still looking completely unconcerned, shrugged. ¡°Uh, after what we did, are you that surprised? I mean, even if they don¡¯t know it was us, obviously they¡¯d want to see if she knew anything about it. Or how she feels about Irelyn coming home. Or if she has any idea where the Banners are. You know, all that stuff. Of course they sent someone over to talk. We were expecting that. Even if¡­¡± She trailed off, glancing toward me.


    ¡°Even if what?¡± I prompted, my stomach already twisting itself into knots. Yes, it made sense that the Ministry would want to talk to Paige after that. But still, the idea that she was out there with them¡­ it made me anxious. Anything could happen. How was Sierra so calm about this?


    Looking like she wasn¡¯t sure if she should say anything or not, the other girl finally sighed while leaning on the cane. ¡°Well, we¡¯re pretty sure the people who are over there talking to her right now are your parents. You know, using their disguise holograms or whatever they are.¡±


    Now I kind of wished I had a bunch of pots and pans to fall off a counter onto. As it was, I made a choking sound in the back of my throat, eyes widening as I grabbed hold of the nearby shelf. ¡°My what?! What? What?!¡± It was tempting to just keep shouting that single word at her, but I restrained myself to just three times.


    ¡°Right, I was supposed to say that when I first got here.¡± Sierra frowned thoughtfully. ¡°Sorry, I got distracted when I figured out this thing could shoot the taser darts too. Anyway, yeah, we think your parents stopped by for a two-on-one conversation. They¡¯re in disguise, like I said. They¡¯re not saying they¡¯re the leaders of the Ministry or anything, it¡¯s just¡­ sort of the impression we¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°So why are you here?¡± That was Fred, asking the very good questions. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you back there, just in case things go wrong?¡±


    ¡°Well, one, we¡¯re in contact up here.¡± Sierra tapped the side of her head. ¡°She¡¯s letting me know how it¡¯s going. So if that whole situation does go sideways, I¡¯ll know. And now, since I¡¯m here, so will you guys. Which brings me to point three, if the Ministry decided to abduct Paige, I¡¯d sort of need you guys to help stop it. And if it comes down to that and I had to have a confrontation, it might be a little awkward to just be there as myself.¡± Her finger twirled around her face demonstrably. ¡°They might have some questions, you know?¡±


    Okay yeah, that made sense. Still, I took a moment to breathe out and try to calm myself just a little bit before asking, ¡°You said you¡¯re still in contact and she¡¯s fine? What¡¯s going on?¡± It was all I could do to convince myself that changing into my costume and charging out there right this second was probably a bad idea. My parents, if they really were the ones over there (and even if they weren¡¯t) would also have questions if Paintball suddenly showed up.


    Clearly realizing we were anxious about this whole thing and enjoying dragging it out, Sierra took a moment to make herself comfortable leaning against one of the shelves. Then she shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re just asking about what she knew and if she had anything to do with this information getting out. She¡¯s telling them that someone she doesn¡¯t know came to ask her what she knew and she told them the same thing. Then they told her about the Breakwater thing and asked if she wanted to help. So she gave them the boat and let them break it to make those pictures and send them. We figured they might be able to figure out what the boat was somehow, and that it was actually sitting at the marina here. So we might as well give them that one. They wanted to know why she didn¡¯t come to them, and she pointed out the whole ¡®trying to shoot her in the head thing.¡¯ They seem to be accepting that.¡±


    Taking that in, I tried to make my heart slow down. It didn¡¯t really help. My stomach was still all twisted up. I was paranoid about what else could happen. My parents were at Paige¡¯s house right now. What if they decided she needed to be disappeared and put that into play before we could actually do anything about it? Yes, it made sense that they would want to talk to her, and I couldn¡¯t believe I hadn¡¯t really thought about that too much. With everything that had happened over the weekend, I just didn¡¯t consider that part of it.


    Sierra was already continuing. ¡°She¡¯s telling them that she doesn¡¯t know who these people are, just that they contacted her in person. She¡¯s giving them a couple descriptions that won¡¯t lead anywhere, and telling them that she¡¯s pretty sure those people were intermediaries. Plus the usual other ways this sort of thing happens. You know, meeting in dark warehouses with people she couldn¡¯t see, that sort of thing. Real interesting spy stuff. The point is, she can¡¯t identify them. She did say they might have worked with Mr. Banners, so that might lead them down the wrong rabbit hole.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s okay?¡± I pressed. ¡°I mean, they aren¡¯t calling for a van to take her away, or giving her any dangerous vibes? Does she want us to suit up and be ready? I mean we could¨C¡±


    Pushing off the shelf, Sierra walked over to stand in front of me, putting her hands on my shoulders. And boy did it ever feel weird to have this happen with someone whose face looked like my mirror double. ¡°Dude,¡± she pointedly intoned. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be fine. We knew they¡¯d want to talk to her, so we planned this out. I mean, we didn¡¯t know it¡¯d be your parents exactly, but still. If she¡¯s in trouble, she¡¯ll let me know. And we¡¯ve got plenty of emergency measures just in case. I mean, it¡¯s not perfect and foolproof, but it¡¯s better than you losing your mind and rushing over there.¡±


    Okay, if having my near-twin talk to me face to face like that was weird, having her tell me the same thing I had been telling myself was even more so. It was like my inner monologue was given physical form. And she was right, of course. Just like I had been right when I thought the same thing. So, I exhaled and gave a little nod. ¡°Right, sure. Just tell us if anything goes wrong. Maybe we should suit up and be ready anyway, just in case? We could get¨C¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re leaving,¡± Sierra interrupted. ¡°They said they¡¯ll report to their ¡®superiors¡¯ and let her know if they find out anything important. And that she should call the number they gave her if she remembers anything else about the people who came to her. See? No big deal.¡±


    ¡°No big deal?!¡± Peyton blurted before I could. ¡°It¡¯s a very big deal! The Ministry leaders¨Cher parents¨Cjust went to talk to Paige in person about all this! Of course it¡¯s a big deal!¡±


    ¡°What she said,¡± I muttered with a gesture that way. ¡°But at least it¡¯s just ¡®big deal¡¯ and not ¡®giant, immediate, blaring emergency.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you worried at all?¡± Wren pressed. She had put the colander on her head like a helmet.


    Holding the cane up, Sierra replied, ¡°Why do you think I was distracting myself with my cool new toy? Yeah, I was worried too, kid.¡± She sounded like it was hard for her to admit that. ¡°But seriously, everybody just breathe. Paige is gonna be here soon.¡± Her eyes found me with a tiny smirk. ¡°And then you¡¯re really gonna be in trouble.¡±


    ¡°Me?¡± I blinked at that. ¡°Why would I be in trouble?¡±


    With a small chuckle, the blonde version of myself poked me with the cane. ¡°Because Paige really needs a distraction right now. And you told her about those new paint combination things. So you better be ready when she gets here.


    ¡°Cuz she is gonna put you through so many tests you might as well change your name to Guinea Pig.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-04

    Sierra wasn¡¯t kidding. When Paige showed up, after a quick run-through of everything that had happened with my parents (if it was really them), she insisted we find a place to start testing my paint combination powers. We couldn¡¯t really go back to the secret room in the school without drawing attention, so we went down to the store¡¯s unfinished basement. Half of it was taken up by stacks of boxes that Wren swore she still needed to go through at some point, but the other half was basically an open room with cement floor and walls. It would work for some testing.


    Before getting into that, however, I focused on Paige. Sierra was down here too, along with Wren and Peyton. Fred was upstairs to deal with any customers who came in, though he made us promise to tell him what we found out, and show him anything ¡®neat.¡¯ Of course I told him that would take a while since everything I did was neat.


    Now, facing Paige, I asked, ¡°Do you think my parents believed everything you were saying?¡±


    She, in turn, shrugged. ¡°Probably not all of it. At the very least they knew I was holding some things back and not telling them the whole story. The real question is whether they believed enough of it. And yeah, I think they did. At the very least, they don¡¯t think I¡¯m an immediate threat. I actually think they believe I could be useful.¡±


    That made me blink. ¡°Useful? Because you could lead them to this mysterious group who contacted you for this whole thing?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°That and because they want to recruit me.¡±


    Needless to say, that made me choke a little, while Sierra snickered in the background at my reaction. Finally, I stared at Paige. ¡°You think my parents want to recruit you into the Ministry?¡±


    ¡°Well they don¡¯t want to recruit me to plan your birthday party next January,¡± she informed me with a tiny smile. ¡°But yeah, they know I can lie to them. They know I¡¯ve got some skill in manipulation and infiltration, since I stole those documents and managed to get away from them. You know, with Paintball¡¯s help. They don¡¯t know everything, not even a quarter of it. They definitely don¡¯t know what I really am. But they know enough to think I could possibly make a decent early recruit. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they reach out soon enough and try to make an offer. After waiting what they deem an appropriate amount of time from when they tried to kill me.¡±


    That was¡­ yeah, that was a lot to take in. She had a point, of course. Naturally my parents would be looking for anyone they could recruit with the skills they needed. And even if they didn¡¯t know anywhere close to the real story, Paige had demonstrated that sort of skill and she already knew about the Ministry. From what she¡¯d told me about how she¡¯d handled that whole situation, they probably also believed she was still malleable enough to be guided and trained the way they might want.


    So yeah, it made sense. But it still left me uncertain about exactly how I felt about that. I was worried about what would happen if my family paid too much attention to Paige (not that it was easy to avoid that given the whole Irelyn thing, to say nothing of them already knowing about her having Ministry information), and about everything that could come crashing down because of that if one of us said the wrong thing. And beyond that, I knew my family was aware that I didn¡¯t really get along with Paige, to say the least. What would they do about that? Try to get us to work through our issues? That was an image that made me blanch. My family, trying to counsel Paige and me on how to get along so we could work together within their criminal enterprise.


    Well we had been trying to figure out how we could get away with Paige and me hanging out without attracting suspicion. Wouldn¡¯t it be convenient if my parents worked toward explaining that completely on their own?


    Yeah, that was going to be a whole thing, if it came up. Which would probably also mean that they would at least move closer to telling me what was going on. And boy oh boy was I looking forward to that just ever so much. I couldn¡¯t wait to go through that and try to figure out how to react. If I said the wrong thing once they did reveal the Ministry to me, would they just erase my memory of the whole situation again? Would I know if they did? I still had no idea how to tell when that happened, or if there was any way to defend against it if you weren¡¯t a Biolem like Paige. That Kent guy hadn¡¯t seemed completely and utterly shocked beyond all belief by the fact that his power hadn¡¯t worked on her, so maybe there was a way to resist? I wasn¡¯t sure, nor did I know how we could go about testing it.


    Shaking all that off for the moment, I focused on the issue at hand. ¡°Well, if they do try to recruit you, make sure to hold out for a decent salary and benefits. You know my family can afford it.¡±


    Paige, who actually seemed a little nervous about how I would react to that, offered me a quick smile. ¡°Yeah, for sure. I know what I¡¯m worth, can¡¯t take any lowball offers.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d take a lowball offer,¡± Peyton put in while raising her hand. ¡°But only because I¡¯m pretty sure you guys have no real concept about what anything costs, so their idea of a lowball offer might just pay my entire way through university.¡±


    We all snickered at that, even Wren. It helped ease the mood a little, which was nice. Then we got into the actual testing. I had already shown them what I could do when it came to the paint combinations I used at the park, but now it was time to get into seeing what else I could do, and how exactly the combinations worked.


    Clearly, whatever effect the main paint possessed remained the center of any combination, and was simply twisted or adjusted by the color I fed into it. When I¡¯d added green to white, it sped up the effect and made the entire ten seconds worth of light go off in an instant, creating a blinding flash grenade. And when I had added green to red, it made the whole pulling thing happen much faster. I had been hauled incredibly quickly toward Uncle Friendly when I did that before. We tested it with a couple empty boxes down in the basement now, just to see for sure. Paige used a stopwatch app on her phone, and made me experiment with adding different amounts of red and green. In the end, it turned out that the more green I added into it, the faster the pulling happened. But the more red I used, the heavier the object that could be moved. And beyond that, the more green I added, the less time the red would pull and hold for. Adding too much green would move things very quickly, yet also detracted from the normal ten seconds that the pull should have lasted for normally, similar to the whole green with white thing. It was a balancing act. Beyond that, I also couldn¡¯t feed more paint into something than the original color had. Any image I made had to be made of at least fifty-one percent of the base color and only up to forty-nine percent of whatever was fed into it. Which made sense, given it was supposed to be the base color, so if there was more of the other, it wouldn¡¯t really make sense.


    Anyway, it seemed like that same ¡®speed up¡¯ principle applied to green being added to other colors. Like when I had fed green paint into that blue circle to launch Fogwalker away from me at incredibly high speed. The green made the effect faster and stronger, but at the cost of lasting for less time. But how would that translate into powers that weren¡¯t so easily ¡®sped up?¡¯


    Under Paige¡¯s direction, we tried orange with that. But of course, we needed a baseline for how much orange protected on its own. We used cardboard boxes, which Paige and Sierra took turns hitting, because they could be certain to use the exact same amount of force every time, and at regular intervals. Or they could simply apply a steady amount of pressure to the box the entire time the paint was active, so we knew exactly when the defense wore off. All of which meant we could get useful data. And the way Paige said ¡®useful data¡¯ was a little weird. Like me when I was talking about an awesome ramp.


    Between that system and a bit of ¡®how much do you feel this poke, how about this one¡¯ we were able to figure out that, by itself, the orange paint protected against something like ninety percent of the damage that would have been done, even at the smallest, most basic amount of paint. As long as it was a notable amount to begin with (more than just a speck of paint, it had to be something real), roughly ninety percent of the damage done would be negated. That increased by one percent for every added ten percent of the item in question that I covered with orange, up to a max of ninety-eight percent. Whatever I did, two percent of the damage would always get through.


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    Once we had that baseline, we tried green mixed into orange, because we were all curious about what that would do. How would speeding up ¡®being invulnerable¡¯ actually help at all?


    As it turned out, the answer was closer to the white paint. Adding green into the orange made the invulnerability stronger for a shorter time. After a bit of testing, it seemed like for roughly every ten percent of a total image that was taken up with green instead of orange, the amount of time the defense lasted for was dropped by two seconds, but the amount of protection it provided was raised by two percent.


    Due to the limit of only making up to about forty-nine percent of an image green instead of orange, that meant I could, at most, raise the total protection ten percent. And doing so would decrease the orange defensive time from ten seconds down to essentially nothing, just a brief one second at most burst of protection. But that was where it got interesting. Because unlike orange paint by itself, which could only get up to ninety-eight percent protection no matter how much I added, with the maximum amount of green mixed in, that level of protection could get up to one hundred percent. Sure, it only lasted for an instant, but it would completely protect me or anyone else from all damage if I timed it right.


    Again, there was a balance to be struck with how much of the base paint I used versus how much of the other color I added into it. It wouldn¡¯t be useful or practical all the time, but in a few specific cases¡­ yeah, I could do something with that.


    Once we did that, Peyton brought up the question of what purple added to orange would do. If green already made the paint stronger at the cost of making it last for a shorter amount of time, what would the paint that was meant for increasing strength do?


    The answer ended up being that it still raised the amount of defense, and without shortening the amount of time the orange paint lasted. But it only raised it by one percent for every ten percent of purple that was added to the orange, so it reached a max of ninety-five percent protection. That, of course, was something I could reach with just orange by itself. So maybe not every single paint combination was useful. I just had to find the ones that worked the best. Which was exactly what we were doing here. Paige wanted me to be prepared for whatever happened.


    Well, that and she was really anxious about what was going on with Irelyn and needed to distract herself.


    To that end, I looked toward Peyton. ¡°You wanna see what happens with black and green?¡±


    She gave me a look at that. ¡°You mean do I want to be your guinea pig so you can hit me with that combination and see if anything weird happens?¡±


    Grinning at her I gave a thumbs up. ¡°See, you¡¯re already on top of things. That¡¯s the best partner slash lab rat.¡±


    She rolled her eyes, but acquiesced. We had her start reading aloud from a random book that was in one of the boxes down here, while I put black paint across her back along with a strip of green and fed the latter into the former. Then we all watched while I activated it.


    ¡°Andwhenwewalkedupthehilltherewereelevensoldiersin¡ª¡° The words all came out of the other girl in a nearly completely indecipherable rush that sounded like one of the cartoon Chipmunks talking very quickly. She stopped short after that, eyes widening as she looked back at us. Then she took a breath and tried again. But again, the words came out all together and high-pitched like that. She was visibly trying to slow her voice down, but it wouldn¡¯t work. Not until the paint had worn off.


    Bouncing up and down, which in her case involved using her wing pack to reach the ceiling, Wren blurted, ¡±Ooh, I wanna try, I wanna try! Please can I try?!¡±


    Of course I let her. We tried that a couple more times to the same result. It didn¡¯t make the person physically faster, it just forced them to speak very quickly and somewhat squeakily. Anything that was affected by the paint would produce any sound much faster than it normally would have. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure when or how that would be useful, but at least we knew what it did.


    Then there was green with yellow, which brought anyone who was affected by it to a complete halt, expending the yellow¡¯s entire charge, but only for that instant. It would stop someone, then immediately wear off. I could definitely see where that would be useful, and filed it away.


    Green with purple was the same idea. It wore off immediately, but gave a very momentary incredible burst of strength.


    Then there was pink. If that one did anything, we couldn¡¯t figure it out. Then again, it was hard to say what making something affected by pink faster could even look like. Suffice to say, it wasn¡¯t terribly interesting at the moment.


    While we were at it, we also checked what would happen when I added purple paint to a couple other colors. It made red paint able to pull larger, heavier things and do more damage if they collided. It also made the glow from the white paint notably brighter. And it made both green and yellow stronger with their respective powers. Not as dramatic of an increase as green gave yellow, or purple for that matter, but it also didn¡¯t wear off immediately. It was simply a boost.


    After the green with black incident, we naturally checked purple with black. How would it make muting things stronger?


    As it turned out, adding purple to black made the muting affect extend outward a bit from the thing that was painted. For every ten percent of a picture that I made purple, the effect extended in a two feet diameter circle. Again, only up to just under half of a picture could be the second color. So at most, I could make a circle that was ten feet in diameter where no sound could emerge. Now that would be very useful.


    We knew from my whole artificial stilts and whip-arms trick at the park that adding purple into pink made the stretchy bits stronger. But if going the other way around and adding pink to purple did anything, we couldn¡¯t figure it out right then.


    That was about as far as we got before I called a halt to the testing. It was already starting to get late, and I wanted to take a lap around the city to stretch my legs and check in on things. After all, we were supposed to be helping people, not just playing with my paint combinations.


    Paige and Sierra stayed to help Wren get some other work done, but promised to join us if we found anything big. Meanwhile, Peyton and I took to the streets. We didn¡¯t exactly find a big fight, but as we were making our way across the rooftops, I spotted what I initially thought was some sort of gang gathering in a field near a freeway overpass. It turned out to be a bunch of homeless people all camping out. As we watched them from a nearby building, I felt my stomach twist itself over. This, this was how we should have been helping the city.


    So, that was exactly what we did. Similar to that time when I had been by myself, the two of us went to a nearby store and bought a couple carts full of supplies. Which was going to attract attention, but it wasn¡¯t like I could go there without my costume. If this situation got out and my parents checked the cameras of the store to see me buying a bunch of stuff that Paintball eventually gave the people out there, they might just be able to do the math.


    And yes, there were still people in the store. It was barely before curfew, which had been extended to ten pm. Again, not out of any real connection to how dangerous it was, but because people couldn¡¯t stand to be locked in that early.


    In any case, we attracted attention, and the two of us tried to play it off and joke around with the crowd as best as we could.


    I bought every premade sandwich the store had, along with a dozen loaves of bread and peanut butter with honey. Then I bought various boxes of cookies, crackers, cans with easy pull-tops that had fruit or meat inside, anything I could find while we went through the store with a couple different grocery carts.


    Needless to say, people wanted to know what we were doing. One even jokingly asked if we had turned to a life of crime and we¡¯re going to steal all this stuff. So we just told them that we¡¯d gotten anonymous donations so we were going to provide food for the homeless. A few people scoffed at that, but others actually donated money of their own, which I really wanted to tell them not to bother with, but had no idea how to do so. I couldn¡¯t exactly tell them I was actually paying for all this myself without risking my identity.


    By the time we left the store, we didn¡¯t just have money donations. There were also a dozen other people with their own carts full of not just food, but other supplies. They went to the back of the store and got sleeping bags and blankets, as well as flashlights and lanterns. Seeing that, I bought a bunch of clothing that could be passed around as well.


    Together, our small army made our way back to that freeway overpass a couple blocks over. Peyton and I helped distribute everything, and hung out with the people there for a while. It was¡­ interesting, considering how many wild stories the people had. Not that it was all fun and games. They definitely needed every bit of help they could get, but they were doing their best. And hopefully this stuff would help.


    When I asked one of the guys there if they were worried about the cops making them disperse or chasing them off, he informed me that the land they were on was owned by ¡®those Evans people¡¯ and that they¡­ my family¡­ had designated it and about half a dozen other places throughout the city as a safe place for them to set up homeless camps. They also had a few shelters and a couple apartment buildings set up to be temporary homes for people who were trying to get work and needed a place to get back on their feet while they waited for a solid paycheck. So they did help put roofs over peoples¡¯ heads, but also had these bits of land where anyone could sleep without being harassed by the police. Apparently this was one of the newest places like that. Others had port-a-potties and a few other needed amenities.


    So my family did¡­ all that. Yeah, I had a lot of thinking to do. Not that that was anything new.


    Eventually, the two of us slipped away and left together. We were back on that first building where we had seen them before, as I spoke in a low voice. ¡°Sorry we didn¡¯t get into any cool, dramatic superpowered showdowns.¡±


    Peyton, in turn, shrugged. ¡°Meh. This was fine. In fact, it kind of feels like we should make this a regular thing, you know?¡±


    Watching the people in the distance, I smiled to myself behind the mask and helmet. ¡°You know what? I think you¡¯re right.


    ¡°This should definitely be a regular thing.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-05

    Over the next couple of days, people got louder and more insistent about wanting to see Flea and Trivial come back from Breakwater. Not just people in Detroit, but all over. The story about two Touched going onto that island to save a missing woman had worldwide attention. Not only did the mayor of Detroit and governor of Michigan put out public statements urging their safe and timely return, but the president of the whole United States did too. That congressional inquiry was proceeding along, with several representatives on multiple sides of the political spectrum giving soundbites about it. So did my father, both as himself and as Silversmith. It was a whole thing. Flea and Trivial were both made out to be a couple of the biggest heroes around. The news played various clips from across both of their careers, including Flea as one of the first Minority members way back when the whole Touched situation was just getting off the ground.


    Needless to say, the more this went on and the bigger it became, the more nervous I was about it potentially blowing up in our faces. We had known it would be a big deal. That was the whole point after all, we had to make it loud and public enough that the people behind Breakwater couldn¡¯t just sweep it under the rug and ignore it. But this was even more than I had expected. If anyone found out we were the ones responsible for it, I didn¡¯t know what would happen.


    Breakwater, of course, had already officially acknowledged that the two were there and that they had safely recovered the missing civilian woman (who would remain ¡®anonymous¡¯) from the island. According to those people, the three were simply being examined to make certain they were safe. As public voices grew louder about wanting to see them back where they belonged, Breakwater put out another statement basically saying they would be on the next available plane and would touch down here in Detroit on Friday afternoon. Then they would be able to answer questions and show everyone they were safe.


    At the moment, it was Thursday, two full days after Peyton and I had done that whole thing with the homeless camp. The past couple days had been spent mostly helping to keep Paige and Sierra from totally losing their minds while we all waited. There had been a couple more calls from their dad, but we ignored them. None of us wanted to deal with him right now.


    A lot of the job of distracting them came down to training. Not just with my new paint combinations, but all of us doing more to learn how to protect ourselves. The two of them really threw themselves into that whole thing, making us spend hours every day getting our butts kicked and stretching our muscles both in virtual reality and in real life. They insisted that it was more important to train and to be ready than it was to be out on the street right at that moment. Sierra in particular took great pleasure in describing all the ways she could think of that we could end up hurt or crippled. Paige, on the other hand, took the tack of explaining just how bad we would feel if we went out to help people and ended up making things worse. So, for those couple days, we mostly stayed inside and worked on that whole training thing. Though we did keep an eye on local social media in case something big happened. But, for the most part, the city was quiet through those days. It was like all the gangs were collectively taking a breath and evaluating their next moves.


    Finally, on Thursday afternoon, we had something other than training planned. It was time for me to take my whole team in to do the court deposition things. I had called ahead to set up an appointment for that, so they knew we were coming. Obviously, I was nervous about how that would go. Not that I expected anything bad to happen, and yet. We would all be in the underground court place giving our depositions and talking to the lawyers for all the people we had fought against. I had no idea how that was going to go. Especially considering I had only done it myself once before. If the lawyers pushed Murphy or Sierra too much about one thing or another, I had no idea how they would react. Murphy in particular was still getting through her emotions about her brother¡¯s death, and I really could not imagine how she would react if any lawyer for one of Luciano¡¯s thugs pressured her on what had happened with them. It probably wouldn¡¯t be pretty, that was for sure. I had warned her that the subject might come up, but still.


    But all of that would be settled later. At the moment, I was still in school. It was right before my last class of the day, and I was exchanging books from my bag to the locker. As I grabbed the last book I needed from the shelf, a voice spoke up behind me. ¡°Cassidy Evans?¡±


    Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a familiar Asian face, though one I hadn¡¯t expected to see around this place. ¡°Maki?¡± Turning fully, I blinked that way and closed my locker with one foot. ¡°What¡¯re you doing here? I mean, not that you¡¯re not allowed to be here, I just¨CI thought you were homeschooled or whatever.¡± Okay, I really had to stop talking right then, or I might just accidentally blurt out something about them changing sexes randomly and that would be hard to explain knowing about. Even if I was incredibly curious about how that worked.


    Maki, for their part, offered an easy smile. ¡°Oh, I am. My parents rather insist on it, particularly given how much we move around. But there are certain subjects even they are not as versed in as they wish to be, so I tend to come to one school or another for extra tutoring during a teacher¡¯s free hour. They are compensated quite well for it. Which I would normally say the teachers compensate for their criminally low regular pay, but from what Tomas says, this school is an exception to that rule.¡±


    Coughing slightly, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re a private academy so the teachers are pretty, ahhhh, well-compensated already, I guess.¡± I ignored the fact that my parents were one of the biggest reasons for that, along with my own question of how many of the staff around here were spying for them in one way or another. It was a bad idea to get into that line of thought around anyone, let alone a near-stranger whom I knew had some sort of Touched powers that I didn¡¯t understand.


    Granted, it was unlikely that ¡®shapeshifting sex and maybe possibly making things taste really good¡¯ would translate into being able to magically know what I was thinking about, but I was pretty sure weirder things had happened. And I still had no idea how those two things worked together.


    Yeah, this whole situation and things like it would sure be a hell of a lot easier if I could just come out and ask people what I wanted to know. Come to think of it, that would solve a lot of my issues. Granted, it would almost certainly create even more, but it was still somewhat tempting.


    If they noticed anything weird about my expression, Maki didn¡¯t comment on it. Instead, they replied, ¡°They do seem happier here than in other schools I have seen.¡± They give me a curious look then. ¡°Do you mind if I ask you a rather personal question? You are free to simply tell me that it¡¯s none of my business if you don¡¯t wish to answer.¡±


    ¡°I uhh, sure, go ahead.¡± Shrugging, I added, ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, but no promises that any answer I give will actually be worth anything. You know, even if I do feel comfortable with it.¡±


    Giving a nod of acceptance of that, they asked, ¡°I know that the only reason you and Tomas broke up was his move back to England. But do you still have feelings for him? I mean, feelings you wish to pursue, if I was not in the picture.¡±


    Ohhhh boy. Couldn¡¯t they just ask me if I knew anything about this big criminal organization known as the Ministry, or if I had ever seen these biological robot things around, or something easier to get into like that? This was so much harder to think about than those things.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Blanching when they saw the expression on my face, Maki quickly held up a hand. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, forget about it. You don¡¯t have to answer. I didn¡¯t mean to put you on the spot or cause any problems. Pretend I didn¡¯t say anything, it¡¯s¨C¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay,¡± I interrupted before glancing around. Not for the first time, I was glad my school wasn¡¯t exactly super-crowded. Even though we were between classes right now, there weren¡¯t too many people near enough to overhear this whole personal conversation. ¡°Believe me, I get why you were asking. I do. I¡¯d probably wonder about it too if I was in your situation. I just¨C¡± Taking a deep breath, I pushed on. ¡°If he hadn¡¯t moved, I think we¡¯d still be together. I like him a lot. He¡¯s fun and talented, and all those things you already know. But he did move. And because he was gone, we broke up. Now he¡¯s with you. And I know he likes you. You two are together, that¡¯s what matters. Not what it is. He¡¯s with you, and I¡¯m happy for both of you. Trust me, I just¡­¡± A sigh escaped me. ¡°I don¡¯t really have time for that sort of thing right now anyway.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t?¡± Maki blinked. ¡°Your friend, ah, San Francisco, he made me believe that you were actively looking for someone to go out with.¡±


    ¡°He did wh¨C¡± Catching myself, I felt my face flush a bit. ¡°Yeah well, San tends to read into things that aren¡¯t there. And he has a bit of a one track mind sometimes. Trust me, I¡¯ve got plenty of stuff to keep me busy. You know, schoolwork and¡­ just trying to stay on top of things.¡± It was a lame response, I knew immediately. But what was I supposed to do, tell them most of my free time went into either being a Star-Touched or training to become a better one?


    Shoving those thoughts out of my head, I forced myself to continue. ¡°And I¡¯m definitely not looking to get back with Tomas, I swear. You guys are cool together.¡±


    Maki started to say something else, but the bell rang. They looked up before turning their attention back to me. ¡°Thank you, Miss¨CI mean Cassidy. I am very sorry for putting you on the spot. I just thought it was best to be open about these things.¡±


    ¡°Oh no, sure, yeah, no problem.¡± Realizing I was babbling, I flushed a bit before stepping away from the locker. ¡°I get it. And hey, good luck with your whole tutoring thing. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be perfect at it.¡±


    I turned to head to my own class then, but not before seeing the weird way Maki¡¯s head snapped around to stare at me in what looked like disbelief and uncertainty.


    Was it something I said?


    ******


    ¡°This is bullshit!¡± Those words were accompanied by a loud bang as Sierra punched the wall upstairs in Wren¡¯s lab. She was dressed in a pair of long black slacks and a purple silk shirt with a black tie, her dyed blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Even then, and with her having sunglasses on as well, I could still see the deep similarities between us. But I had no idea if that was just because I already knew we were physically identical. Nor did I know if that was really what I looked like when I was exasperated and angry.


    ¡°Friday?¡± she continued. ¡°If they already got them off that stupid island, why would it really take them until Friday to send them back here? It doesn¡¯t take that long to get a plane over there. especially not with the sort of pressure they¡¯re under. Official, government-level pressure.¡± Her expression tightened, as she took the sunglasses off and tucked them into the front pocket of the shirt. ¡°They¡¯re up to something, I just know it.¡± Her voice was dangerous, making it clear just how much she wanted to show her displeasure about the delay to the people responsible for it.


    Before responding to that, I glanced around. The others were all up here too, as we got ready to go deal with that court thing. Everyone was standing around, looking anxious. Understandable, really. Even if we didn¡¯t have the depositions to do, there was the obvious Breakwater situation. Everyone else might not be as open about their feelings on the subject as Sierra was, but we were all feeling the pressure from the delay. Still, I was trying to remain optimistic. If nothing else, the others really needed me to.


    So, I took a breath before starting with, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s possible they¡¯re up to something. I wouldn¡¯t really put it past them to be doing everything they can to cover their butts. But honestly, they already acknowledged that Flea and Trivial were there, and they claimed that they got them off the island. If those two disappear now, it¡¯ll be a lot worse for Breakwater¡¯s people. They already have all the attention on them. In the long run, it¡¯s best if those two just show up back here in Detroit following the same story we gave them. That¡¯s probably what they¡¯re spending these couple days on, making sure they¡¯re on the same page and that they¡¯ll stick to the story. I mean, besides the whole medical evaluation thing, which they probably really are doing too. I mean, that¡¯s an exotic island full of super villains who could be doing anything. It¡¯s not really surprising that they¡¯d need to go through a whole evaluation period.¡±


    Paige spoke up with clearly forced calmness, though I could hear the tension behind her voice too. ¡°They¡¯re probably also scouring the info we sent in, trying to figure out if it was someone in their own ranks who exposed the situation.¡±


    Oh right, that made sense. I hadn¡¯t even really thought about it that way, but yeah. Of course Breakwater would think it was one of their own people who had sent that information out, rather than it actually having come from here in Detroit. After all, their own people would be the ones who knew that Flea and Trivial were on the island. They probably thought that whoever it was had a soft heart or something and had simply made it look like the information came from here. It did make more sense from their perspective for it to be one of their own people. It was a thought that made me wince a little bit at the idea of what the employees there were probably going through as their bosses struggled to identify the leaker.


    ¡°That¡¯s probably part of the reason for the delay too,¡± Roald put in while raising his hand. ¡°Maybe they want to see if they can figure out who was responsible for exposing the situation before they actually send them home.¡±


    Murphy snorted. ¡°In that case, it¡¯s gonna be a pretty long time before we see them.¡± As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the girl visibly blanched and focused on Paige and Sierra. ¡°I mean, shit, sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to make it sound like¨CI mean¡­ sorry.¡±


    Wren quickly piped up from where she was busy using her wrench on some big metal box-like thing she had been working on. ¡°They¡¯ll be home soon, I know they will. And they¡¯ll bring your sister with! But uhh¡­¡± She looked up, pulling the goggles off her face to stare at Sierra in particular. ¡°What¡¯re you gonna tell her about¡­ you?¡±


    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s a good question,¡± Peyton agreed. She popped up next to Wren, holding the box of tools the other girl kept asking for items from. ¡°How are you gonna introduce yourself to her? Or explain any of¨Cyou know.¡± She gestured back and forth between the other girl and me.


    Sierra hesitated before shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m not. I mean, I¡¯m not gonna introduce myself. How could I? I¡¯d have to get into that whole thing, all of it.¡°


    ¡°Would that be a bad thing?¡± I pointed out. ¡°Seriously, she¡¯s probably our best chance at getting an adult involved in this. We can be pretty damn sure she¡¯s not involved in the Ministry herself by this point, and she¡¯ll trust Paige.¡±


    ¡°Will she?¡± Paige put in, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m the reason she ended up on Breakwater to begin with. Whatever she¡¯s been through over there, whatever¨C¡± She stopped, giving a heavy sigh before pushing on. ¡°Maybe she¡¯ll want nothing to do with me. I just want to know she¡¯s safe, and¡­ and I don¡¯t know. But if she wants me to leave her alone forever after all that, I¡¯d completely understand.¡± Even as she said that, the girl glanced in my direction. I knew what she was thinking. She¡¯d expected me to not want anything to do with her after years of being forced to treat me like shit. But that was the key point, she was forced to do that. Even if I still had some lingering uncertainty and emotional¡­ issues with the whole thing, logically I knew it wasn¡¯t her fault.


    ¡°We¡¯ll handle it,¡± I managed after taking a second to collect myself. ¡°When she gets here, we¡¯ll figure out how she¡¯s feeling and¡­ and all the rest of it. Then we¡¯ll go from there. But for now¨C¡± As I said that, the alarm on my phone chimed, and I looked down to check. ¡°Uh, right, for now, it¡¯s time to go to court. You guys ready to head out?¡±


    Raising his hand, Roald asked, ¡°Is it too late to call in sick? Because I think I might ralph.¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry,¡± I assured him, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s a normal feeling. But if it happens, do us all a favor and please don¡¯t aim for the lawyers.


    ¡°No matter how tempting it is.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-06

    When we got to the neighborhood near the courthouse, I showed the others where the right building was. According to Paige, several of the other nearby houses and buildings were either empty, or used as anonymous safe houses, homes for people with the authority to know about this place, that sort of thing. And they had cops whose job it was to ensure no one was lurking around for too long. As well as a few other measures, all of which was meant to make it even harder for anyone to notice the Touched who went in and out of the place.


    I was pretty sure that also meant the small camera above the door was unnecessary, given how many other people we undoubtedly had watching us the entire time we were in the neighborhood. But it was probably mostly for show. Or to give the person at the door somewhere to look when whoever was inside spoke to them over the intercom if they didn¡¯t open it immediately.


    Either way, I showed everyone how to get to the building, then reached out and knocked. ¡°Okay everybody, wave and try not to look like Fell-Touched impersonators.¡± I informed them before raising my hand to do just that for the camera. I even painted a big smiley face on my helmet. There was a slight pause before the door opened, revealing my old friend, Officer Metts, the guy I¡¯d met the first time I came here to drop off the detainment paperwork for that whole Ashton situation. Upon seeing me, the man raised an eyebrow. ¡°My, you¡¯ve been busy, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah well,¡± I replied, ¡°I figured out there¡¯s less work to do when I have more people to help.¡±


    ¡°Not to mention more targets for the enemies to shoot at,¡± Style put in. She casually evaded my attempt to step on her foot while adding, ¡°I¡¯m surprised he doesn¡¯t make us wear bullseye costumes, really.¡±


    Trevithick, wearing that costume consisting of the black bodysuit, bright pink armored panels over the chest, arms, and legs, and a matching black helmet with pink visor, bounced up and down excitedly. ¡°I could make matching costumes like that!¡± Her voice made it decidedly unclear if she was kidding or not.


    Flushing a bit behind the helmet and mask, I shook my head, ¡°Uh, thanks, I think we¡¯ll find another way to show team unity.¡± To Style, I added, ¡°And sure, because I definitely don¡¯t make a big enough target of myself as it is. That¡¯s me, always keeping my head down and avoiding any trouble.¡±


    Snorting at us, Officer Metts gestured. ¡°Okay, I still need your leader here to demonstrate his power so we can prove it¡¯s really him. Then he takes responsibility for the rest of you being who you say you are. It¡¯s faster than making all of you demonstrate, and I¡¯m pretty sure you aren¡¯t all Touched anyway.¡± He added that last bit slyly, clearly curious if we¡¯d confirm or deny anything.


    Of course, we did nothing of the sort. I demonstrated my power, and Alloy showed off her transforming marbles as well just to add to the evidence. The officer accepted that and stepped aside so we could go in. Soon, we were led through the building and down the stairs to the tunnel. Officer Metts waved and then headed back upstairs while we went through the tunnel to meet the guy at the other end, who let us into the basement of the courthouse.


    From there, we sat in a few different rooms, being moved around into different combinations as well as sitting by ourselves now and then, all while giving depositions about everything that had happened throughout the past little while. We had already planned out exactly how to talk about that stuff, as well as what we weren¡¯t going to talk about. I knew it was incredibly unlikely that they would suddenly start asking about the Ministry or the Breakwater situation. The idea that my parents would ambush us with something like that wasn¡¯t completely impossible, however, so we had practiced what to do if anything like that happened. The only person I was maybe a little worried about was Wren, just because she was so young. I¡¯d already told her what to do if they pushed her too hard while she was by herself. She was just supposed to shut down and tell them that she wanted Poise or me to be with her. She had that right. Technically we all had the right to leave or refuse to answer whenever we wanted. But as an obvious child, they were on even stricter rules with her. As a Touched involved in this sort of thing, she could voluntarily come in and discuss these things. But the moment she said she didn¡¯t want to talk about it anymore, or that she wanted one of her older teammates to be there, they had to acquiesce.


    But nothing like that happened. The whole thing went pretty smoothly, aside from a couple defense lawyers who pressed us on a few different points. They didn¡¯t really seem to get anywhere, however, and it was all done before long. I had the impression that most of the people involved were just going through the motions and wanted to get done with it as soon as possible. They also kept checking their phones as well as whispering to one another in the hallways. I heard Flea and Trivial¡¯s names come up a couple times, so it was obvious what they were distracted by. There didn¡¯t seem to be any news yet. They, like the rest of us, were simply hanging on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what happened.


    Everything seemed completely fine to me, even somewhat boring, really. Until we started to leave the main conference room. After the last bit of testimony, there was a sudden, sharp, chiming sound that made me jump. The armed bailiff guy held up a hand and asked us to wait a minute, adding that something was going on in the courthouse. Then he escorted the two lawyers, stenographer, and judge out into the hall. The door shut behind them, and we all looked at one another as the alarm went quiet. Obviously, I had the sudden, somewhat paranoid thought that this was some sort of trick. Maybe my parents really were trying something after all. This did seem a little bit obvious, but honestly, it wouldn¡¯t be that hard. The only people we knew had heard that alarm besides ourselves were two lawyers and a few court people. It wouldn¡¯t have been hard for the Ministry to have those few people in their pockets.


    Still, I didn¡¯t actually think it was them. It didn¡¯t seem right. But I didn¡¯t say anything. At least not until Paige and Sierra both turned back to us and nodded. ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± Paige announced. ¡°The security system here is just going to think we¡¯re standing around talking about what that alarm could be.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the cheapest system in the world,¡± Sierra added idly. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t think I would¡¯ve been able to get through it on my own with the primitive-ass hardware my new orb is made of.¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Paige put in, ¡°Oh stop complaining. It¡¯s not that far behind. You¡¯re more advanced than any of Dad¡¯s other work. It¡¯s pretty obvious that body was one of the last things he put together. Besides, I¡¯m sure Trevithick could¨C¡±


    ¡°Nuh uh.¡± That was Wren, head shaking rapidly. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna mess with those things until you guys find an intact one, or like, several so I can mess around with them without, uh, you know¡­¡± She shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Without breaking you. I want some orbs I can play with and take apart so I can see how they work.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, kid,¡± Sierra replied while giving her a thumbs up. ¡°Glad to hear you don¡¯t wanna break me. If we can find some more of dear old Dad¡¯s toys for you to tinker with, maybe we¡¯ll see if you can make any improvements.¡±


    Wincing a bit, I raised a hand. ¡°I know you guys say it¡¯s safe and all that, but can we just not talk about any of that stuff while we¡¯re in this place, please? Now what¡¯s going on out there?¡±


    Murphy, standing near the door, offered a shrug. ¡°I can¡¯t hear a damn thing out there. Pretty sure they made this place soundproof on purpose. Probably every room down here, just so they can gossip in the hall and not let the rest of us hear any of it. Assholes.¡±


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    Paige shook her head, focusing on me as she explained, ¡°It looks like there¡¯s some sort of attack going on in the courthouse. Some of those guys you helped catch at the park the other day, they¡¯re here for arraignments and their gang showed up to rescue them.¡±


    That made me do a double-take. ¡°Wait, you mean like, Janus and the rest of that group? Wait, what the hell does that gang call themselves anyway? I forgot to ask when we were all punching each other in the face.¡±


    ¡°Trendscendents.¡± That was Roald, actually. He shrugged when we looked that way. ¡°You know, like transcendence and trend put together. I was, um, you know, curious after all that. They were called the Trendscendents in their old city and I guess they kept the name after moving here.¡±


    ¡°That is a stupid fucking name,¡± Sierra noted. ¡°But fine, whatever. The Trendscendents are attacking the courthouse to save the rest of their people. And yeah, that means the Touched people too, if you¡¯re that eager for round two.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters how eager I am,¡± I pointed out while gesturing to the door. ¡°Something tells me that thing isn¡¯t exactly gonna be easy to open if we tried. And if the court house is under attack, they probably wouldn¡¯t react that well to us breaking out of here, even if we¡¯re trying to help.¡±


    Peyton started to say something, but Paige interrupted. ¡°That bailiff is coming back, maybe he¡¯ll ask for help.¡±


    Sure enough, after another second or two, the door opened and the uniformed guy stepped in. ¡°Ah, apologies, we¡¯re having a bit of a situation in the courthouse.¡±


    ¡°We¨C¡± Catching myself before I would have given too much away, I amended what I had been about to say. ¡°We can help get people out if there¡¯s a fire or something.¡±


    Wren caught on immediately and piped up, ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re really good at saving people like that! I mean, theoretically, you know? Fires, floods, gas leaks, or if there¡¯s some old guy who won¡¯t shut up and thinks everyone wants to hear his opinion about something that doesn¡¯t actually affect him. Those guys are the worst.¡±


    As I was giving the younger girl a look for that odd, seemingly rehearsed statement, Murphy and Sierra both snickered a little behind me. Oh, of course it was them. When had they planned that?


    The man paused briefly before shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna just leave you in the dark. It¡¯s not a fire, or a flood, or¡­ anything like that. There¡¯s some people attacking the courthouse. And yeah, I¡¯m sure you¡¯d love to help. But it¡¯s against protocol. Y¡¯all need to stay here and wait. We¡¯ve got plenty of help already as it is, with more on the way. There¡¯s just¡­ security measures to keep in mind.¡± He visibly grimaced. ¡°Might not be what you wanna hear, but it¡¯s the rules. You stay in this place and wait for the all-clear. I¡¯ll come back and check on ya soon enough.¡±


    Before any of us could say anything, he offered another apology and stepped out, pushing the door closed behind him. It wasn¡¯t surprising, obviously, but still. The idea that there were bad guys right upstairs in the rest of the courthouse and we were just supposed to sit here and wait was¡­ uncomfortable, to say the least. Especially when those bad guys were the very people we had all just helped fight a few days earlier.


    ¡°Can you see what¡¯s going on up there?¡± I quickly asked Paige as soon as she gave the signal that they had once again stopped the security system from observing and recording us. ¡°How bad is it?¡± I was really hoping that this whole thing was already all-but over and that the bad guys would be handled without anyone else getting hurt. I didn¡¯t actually believe that was possible, but I still hoped.


    Unsurprisingly, however, Paige shook her head. ¡°We don¡¯t have the full picture. They keep destroying the cameras up there or just blocking them. But from what I can see, it¡¯s nowhere near being under control yet.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s for sure,¡± Sierra added. ¡°I mean don¡¯t get me wrong, looks like they¡¯ve got some solid Touched-Tech defenses up there, but things are still pretty wild. If you were seeing what we¡¯re seeing, uhh, well you¡¯d probably want to find a way out of this room to get up there even more than you already do.¡±


    ¡°They had to know this was a possibility, right?¡± That was Peyton. ¡°I mean, the courthouse has to be one of the biggest targets every day, let alone when they¡¯ve got a bunch of gang members here who just got picked up a couple days ago. You¡¯d think they¡¯d have extra security. Like, some big guns just to make sure everything went smoothly. Unless they¨Cwait this is the Ministry again, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Everyone looked at me, and I grimaced behind my costume. I still didn¡¯t want to talk about this stuff here. But Paige insisted it was safe. They couldn¡¯t overhear us on the security system. Which, to be fair, if she had been wrong about that, we all would¡¯ve been fucked back when she and Amber took me down into that special room in the school¡¯s basement to train. If Paige said she had control of the system and no one could use it to spy on us, I had to take her word for it. Even if it did make me incredibly uncomfortable. And I still wasn¡¯t going to say anything that could potentially give away my identity.


    All of that ran through my head before I nodded. ¡°You¡¯re probably right. I mean, they did make a deal with this gang to help them with that Inessa situation. Setting up a scenario where they could break out the ones who got captured doing that is¡­ probably fair, as far as they¡¯re concerned.¡±


    Even as I said that, I was straining to listen, trying to hear some evidence of what was apparently an intense fight going on. But Murphy was right, we couldn¡¯t pick up anything beyond the door. They had gone through a lot of trouble to make this place soundproof. Honestly, a big part of that was probably for the opposite reason. They didn¡¯t want people in the hall to be able to hear depositions being given by people with secret identities. Then again, there were multiple rooms like this, so maybe it was just as much about making sure people in one of them couldn¡¯t overhear what was being said in one of the others.


    Whatever the reasoning, it did its job, and we were stuck here waiting in silence. Well, most of us were. Paige and Sierra could keep track of what was going on, and for a moment I envied them. Then I thought about the father they had to deal with and decided I didn¡¯t envy them anymore. My own family situation was weird and complicated enough, but at least I knew my parents loved me.


    None of that mattered right now, however. What mattered was dealing with what was happening upstairs. According to our resident two Biolems, every Touched member of that gang (the¡­ Trendscendents) was here. They were all fighting up there while we just sat here. Damn it, why couldn¡¯t that bailiff just let us out so we could help? Protocol or not, damn that, and damn the rules, we could be in there, helping to make sure those guys didn¡¯t escape. After all, we were a big part of the reason they had been arrested in the first place. Yes, yes, we weren¡¯t cleared through their security measures and could end up being targeted by them too. Logically, I knew all that. But it didn¡¯t help me feel any less anxious and annoyed about this whole thing.


    Pushing all that out of my mind, with some effort, I focused on what we could affect right now. Namely, planning what to do if that fight made it all the way down here. Rules or not, if those guys came to this room and picked a fight, we were going to show them one. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t decide if I actually wanted that to happen so I¡¯d have an excuse to get involved or not.


    So, we talked quickly about what the Touched on their side were capable of, how their Prev troops seemed to act the other day at the park, and how we could possibly counter them. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t a lot to say on that point. We hadn¡¯t had time to create any big new strategies or countermeasures. Give Wren equipment, tools, and time, and I was sure she could come up with something good. But it had only been a couple days since we first found out half these people existed. We needed more time to put something real together. At the very least, however, we could talk it out a bit. Besides, it gave us something to focus on besides just waiting for Paige and Sierra to tell us whether the situation was resolved or if we had trouble coming our way.


    In the midst of that, however, Sierra cocked her head to the side. ¡°Well that¡¯s odd,¡± she murmured. ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Paige frowned. ¡°Yeah, definitely weird.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Murphy blurted. ¡°What¡¯s so weird? Is Janus wearing a tutu? Please tell me Janus is wearing a tutu. Are wearing? I¡¯m not sure what the right word would be. But tell me a tutu is involved.¡±


    ¡°Please stop saying tutu,¡± I pleaded before focusing on the Biolem girls. ¡°But she¡¯s right, what¡¯s happening?¡±


    The two of them glanced at one another before Paige answered. ¡°The Trendscendents aren¡¯t the only Fell-Touched here right now. We only caught a glimpse of them before they broke the camera, but it looks like Pack and Broadway are here too, with a couple others I didn¡¯t recognize. Just kids in ski masks. Whatever they¡¯re doing here, they were headed for one of the archive rooms, with the paper files.¡±


    That news made me blink in confusion. ¡°Wait, what¡¯re they doing¨C¡±


    As I was in the midst of questioning that, the lights in the room went out. We were plunged into darkness. Just as Sierra put in, ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t know how to tell you guys this, but we¡¯ve got bad guys coming our way after all.


    ¡°Things are about to get pretty violent.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-07

    According to Sierra and Paige, we had a dozen members of the Trendscendents coming our way. Fortunately, almost all of them were the ordinary Prev-type soldiers. There were eleven of those, though heavily-armed and ready for trouble, and only one of the Touched. That was the good news, such as it was. The bad news was that the single Touched who was coming was Banneret, and she had already taken the time to put some boosts on her people. So even though they might not have had any powers of their own, they were still enhanced by hers. Which was just great.


    But hey, if she could boost her friends, I could boost mine. Over the next few seconds, I quickly put plenty of paint on everyone as we got ready for what was about to happen.


    The other bit of good news was that it didn¡¯t sound like these guys actually knew what they were about to walk into. They were just checking every corner of the building and had found this basement. So they were exploring it. Paige said it seemed like they thought this might be a secret escape tunnel they could use to get out of here without running into any cops or Stars.


    Boy were they in for a surprise.


    To get ready for their arrival, I silenced the door just in case before letting Paige go ahead and force it open. That would undoubtedly set off alarms, but I didn¡¯t think anyone cared by that point. We were able to see out through the open doorway toward a room across from us that was probably identical to this one, aside from the fact that that door was already open.


    Oh, and there was one very important thing that hadn¡¯t been here before. Covering the entire width of the corridor just past these rooms, was a heavy steel vault-like door. It was blocking the way down the tunnel toward the safe house we had come in through.


    ¡°Security measure,¡± Paige noted quietly. ¡°The authorities don¡¯t want anyone getting out that way. Or starting a fight with the people in the house.¡±


    Right, of course they¡¯d have something like that. But could the good guys come in that way? I pondered that before shaking it off for the moment. The point was that there was no one in that other room across the hall from us. At least, there wasn¡¯t anyone in it, until Calvin, Hobbes, and Style darted that way. The three of them crouched down behind the door on that side of the hall.


    What the hell was I doing? Murphy and Roald didn¡¯t even have their Wren-tech guns with them. Fuck, why didn¡¯t I put them in my special bag before we came in here? What was I thinking? That this place was safe and we wouldn¡¯t need them? How stupid was I? And now I was actually going to let them try to fight these guys without those Touched-Tech weapons? This was stupid. Not to mention Wren. She was here too, and involving her seemed practically inexcusable.


    And yet, what other choice did we have? There was no way in hell these people would listen if we just told them we weren¡¯t fighting today. We had absolutely already pissed them off plenty at the park when we interrupted their mission. When they saw us here, and they would definitely check the rooms, there would be trouble. We just had to be as ready for that as we could.


    But still, I could keep Wren as far out of the fight as possible. Which I did by telling her to stay in the corner of the room out of the way until her moment came. She kept trying to apologize for not having one thing or another ready yet, including more of the bags like I had or some system she was working on to instantly transport weapons and equipment around. Obviously, we all told her not to worry about it. She was already doing more than enough as it was, and she would still have a part to play in this situation. But I was pretty sure she still felt guilty.


    Boy, good thing I didn¡¯t know anything about what that felt like.


    After giving Trevithick one last glance to make sure she was safely out of the way and ready to do her thing when the time came, I left Poise and Alloy crouched by the first door and stepped out into the hall. It was about twelve feet wide, with a fifteen foot ceiling. The tunnel we¡¯d come through to get here was fifty feet to my right, past more doors, and the open doorway leading to the stairs the gang members were already stampeding down was thirty feet to the left.


    Judging from the sound of those footsteps and voices, the bad guys were almost here. They would be within view any second. So, I activated black paint to silence myself while running that direction. On the way, I leaned down and trailed my finger along the floor, leaving large blue lettering with yellow outlines, feeding the latter into the former.


    Once I was three-quarters of the way there, I straightened up and used red paint to yank myself up to the ceiling right above the entrance from the stairwell. Thanks to my special boots, I was able to crouch against the wall there indefinitely. Just as our soon-to-be guests were coming around the final turn in the stairs, I covered the floor under me with more blue and yellow paint, making a semicircle shape that time, as though it was an intentional design on the floor. Then I glanced back at the letters I had drawn along the floor on my way. From here, they read ¡®Proceed With Caution¡¯ one letter at a time, with the P starting right at the edge of the semicircle I had just made, and the N just in front of the doors where the rest of my team were waiting.


    Then I waited. From here, I couldn¡¯t see the others, just the doors that were slightly open with the darkened rooms beyond to make it look like there was no one down here. For a second, I glanced at the big steel vault door and wondered what was going on with Officer Metts and the others over there.


    Then I didn¡¯t have time to wonder anymore. Because the bad guys were here. The first couple Prev troops came through carefully, weapons raised as they looked around them. But they didn¡¯t look up. Nor did they seem to wonder about the blue and yellow tiles they were walking on. Really, they had this whole thing coming.


    I didn¡¯t hit them right away though. I let them keep coming. One of them called over his shoulder while continuing through, ¡°More office shit! Probably stick the peons down here to do research or something for the judges.¡± Belatedly, he added, ¡°But there¡¯s a vault door here too! Think we found that tunnel!¡± That set off a chorus of cheers amongst the others in the group, and I heard a few mutters about winning some sort of bet with some other group as more of them continued on through the doorway and began to move down that hall toward the door to check it out.


    Through all that, I waited as patiently as possible. I couldn¡¯t make a move yet. The last thing I wanted to do was go too soon and end up with half these guys still in the stairwell where they could use the doorway for cover and start shooting. I had to wait until they all came through, even if it was incredibly nerve racking to just crouch here and hope no one thought to look up.


    Nine people were through, ten, a few had moved to the sides, off the area I had painted to check the corners of the room. Hell, they were so close to seeing me out of the corner of their eyes, but their focus was on the walls themselves, searching for, I supposed, any cops hiding within the completely open and clearly empty space there.


    Okay, to be fair, that wasn¡¯t completely impossible with Touched-Tech and stuff. But still, you¡¯d think they would¨C


    ¡°Oh shit!¡±


    Ah, there it was. One of the men who stepped over toward the corner of the hall had turned back to say something to his buddies, which gave him a clear view of me, crouched above them. His hand was already rising to point, which was better than if he had lifted the gun in his other hand. But either way, the time for waiting was over.


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    By that point, all eleven of the Prev troops had come fully into the hall, with four of them already off the paint I had put down. The other seven were still at least partway on one of the letters or the semicircle. Including Banneret, who had just stepped through. Her head snapped straight up to look at me, following the line of sight of her minion.


    ¡°Hi!¡± I called cheerfully, waving that way even as all those guns immediately started to swing up toward me. In that instant, I activated the paint. Instantly, those seven guys plus Banneret were launched off the floor. Only, of course, they were launched slowly. It kept them in the air longer while also slowing their movements down to about half speed right as they were trying to bring their weapons in line with me.


    Unfortunately, that left a couple problems. First, the guys who weren¡¯t on the paint obviously weren¡¯t affected at all. And second, there was Banneret. Oh sure, she was slowly rising through the air, right toward me, actually. But she also had about a dozen guns floating around her, and those were all suddenly pointed my way just as they opened fire.


    Or at least, they were pointed where I had been a second earlier. I¡¯d already activated green paint on my shoes, catapulting myself off the wall and away from the incoming bullets. On the way, I managed to blurt, ¡°Lemme guess, you¡¯re having trouble with this escape room too!¡±


    While still flying down the corridor thanks to that paint, I pointed back the way I¡¯d come with both hands, sending a shot of red from one and a shot of purple from the other. Both hit Banneret. Flipping over, I landed on the floor near the vault door, skidding backwards a bit on the tile from my momentum. At the same time, I held my hand up, revealing the purple-red combination paint on my glove as I activated both that and the same mix I¡¯d hit Banneret with. She had still been floating, but now she was immediately yanked toward me. The purple boosted the strength of the red¡¯s pull, yanking her straight toward me until I canceled both that and the yellow-blue effect, allowing her to drop just a few feet away from me.


    She probably would¡¯ve liked to lunge at me right then. But the second her feet touched the floor, two things happened. Or rather, two doors opened, the ones on either side of her, where the others were. Alloy and Poise came out of the left door, facing the still-recovering Banneret. Meanwhile, Calvin, Hobbes, and Style came through the other door. But they didn¡¯t turn our way. Instead, they immediately pivoted to head back down the corridor toward where I had left the rest of those guys. The second I laid eyes on those three, I activated the orange, purple, and green paints I had given them.


    As soon as they had taken just a couple steps that way, Alloy made her white, gold, and black marbles combine together into a literal wall. It wasn¡¯t very thick, but it covered the entire space from floor to ceiling and out to either wall. The silver marble transformed into a large hammer and hovered there in front of her, while she continued to use the purple and bronze marbles as her suit (it made her look like a ninja, with purple as the base and bronze padding).


    Poise, right beside her, had produced two knives from somewhere and had one held out the normal way while the other was backwards. Both were raised and ready for any move the Fell-Touched woman made.


    And just like that, we had cut her off from basically all of her resources and aid. The guns she had put under her control and her minions were both back on the other side of the wall, where she couldn¡¯t see to direct them, and they couldn¡¯t get through to help her. That was the whole point of this plan: ambush them before they knew what was happening, then drag the main threat and force multiplier down here, separating her from everyone she had empowered and the weapons she was controlling.


    This was the major reason I felt so guilty about the Murphy and Roald situation. They barely had any training and no special guns, and I was sending them into the other side of the hall with a bunch of armed and pissed off bad guys, who were going to be rather intent on going through them and finding a way past this wall. The biggest advantage they had was Style, who was almost certainly enough of a badass to handle ordinary guys. But those weren¡¯t ordinary guys, they had been boosted by Banneret and we didn¡¯t know if she needed line of sight to keep those boosts active once they were placed.


    I just had to hope that between Style and the boosts I had given my people, the trio could deal with those guys for a bit. Banneret was the one we really had to deal with, and right now while she was cut off like this was our best (possibly only) chance.


    All of that, and my associated doubts had been playing through my mind ever since we came up with the plan. But now we were in the thick of it, and I shoved them down hard while addressing the woman right in front of me. ¡°Yeah see, like I said, we¡¯ve been trying to beat this escape room for practically the full hour now, but the puzzles are ridiculous. I swear, you practically need a law degree to figure this place out.¡± My voice adopted an even more cheerful tone. ¡°You wanna team up?¡±


    Apparently, the answer was no, because the woman extended her arms to either side, pointing toward Paige and Peyton with one and me with the other. A very slight humming sound was the only other warning we had before a pair of concussive blasts, like the ones from the bracelets and guns that Theory and Praxis used, shot out.


    Thankfully, we didn¡¯t need much of a warning. Honestly, at this point, if an obvious bad guy like that pointed at you, it was probably a good idea to hit the dirt just in case. Who knew what sort of power or tech they had?


    In my case, I used renewed blue paint on my shoes to launch myself upward toward the ceiling so the blast could pass by underneath me. Paige and Peyton, meanwhile, dove to either side and let it go between them. It hit the marble wall, which held, fortunately. But we couldn¡¯t let her do too much of that or we¡¯d risk losing the biggest advantage we¡¯d been able to set up with this ambush.


    Even as I bounced off the ceiling, I was sending two shots of paint toward the woman. One was red, which I used to pull myself toward her, while the other was yellow to slow her down so she couldn¡¯t easily grab me and use her power to make me slower or weaker or whatever. There was an advantage to being able to debuff from a range. Inverting in the air, I managed to slam both feet into her shoulders, knocking the woman over to land hard on her back. Going down with her, I rolled over Banneret¡¯s head. Her hands grasped for me, but the yellow paint slowed her down just enough that I was able to get out of her reach.


    Meanwhile, Poise took advantage of the woman¡¯s extended hands as she tried to grab me, throwing those two knives with expert precision. Each cut through something on Banneret¡¯s armored wrists, sending a spray of sparks out. The weapons she had just used to send those concussive blasts at us. She wouldn¡¯t be doing that again any time soon.


    While she was still reacting to that (which involved sputtered cursing), Alloy sent her remaining marble, the silver one, flying that way in its hammer form. The woman flinched just slightly, but Peyton wasn¡¯t hitting her with it. Instead, the marble transformed into a pair of shackles, attaching themselves to Banneret¡¯s wrists while her arms were still extended over her head as she lay on her back from me knocking her over.


    As soon as her wrists were secured, the marble-shackles hoisted her up. At the same time, Poise grabbed her feet. Then she and the marble worked together to quickly carry the struggling, cursing, wildly threatening woman straight through the open doorway into the room where we had been having our whole meeting not so long ago.


    Trevithick was there waiting. The second the other two got Banneret into the room, she ran up with her flightpack held in both hands. The marble-shackles hoisted the woman upright while Poise released her legs. But before she could get her feet under herself and react properly, Wren stuck the pack up against her back. It latched on immediately, the wings extending to fly her up halfway to the ceiling.


    And now she was stuck like that. The flightpack kept her off the floor so she couldn¡¯t get any leverage or go anywhere because it would only listen to Wren¡¯s orders. And the silver marble in its shackles form kept the woman¡¯s hands extended outward so she couldn¡¯t reach around to touch the flightpack and control it.


    We¡¯d done it. The crazy plan worked. We had separated Banneret from her troops and put her in a position where she couldn¡¯t use her power on anything. Now we just had to hope the others had¨C


    Oh shit, the others! All of us had the same thought, exchanging glances. ¡°Watch her!¡± I shouted toward Wren and Alloy. Sure, we believed she was safe now, but we weren¡¯t taking stupid chances. They would keep an eye on the woman. Meanwhile, Poise and I sprinted out of the room and raced for the marble wall, which split apart so we could pass through as Alloy poked her head out to watch us go.


    The two of us made it to the other end of the hall just in time to see Style hurl what appeared to be the last of the Prev troops into the wall hard enough to make him bounce off it and fall to the floor with a groan of pain. Nor was he the only one making that sound. All eleven of them were lying in various states of ¡®I have no desire to do anything aside from lay here and contemplate my life choices.¡¯


    Calvin and Hobbes were down too, but not in pain. They both just seemed exhausted, lying side by side on their backs where they had apparently slumped down to breathe hard. When they saw us arrive, both looked up, Murphy speaking through several long, deep breaths. ¡°So¡­ are¡­ we winning?


    ¡°And if so¡­ can we call for a five minute timeout?¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-08

    Giving Murphy and Roald a second to catch their breath, Paige and I turned to Sierra. She offered a shrug. ¡°They did pretty well, all things considered. Kept a couple of those guys off my back.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on upstairs?¡± I asked tensely while looking around at the fallen figures. Before they could recover too much and cause more problems, I started red-painting their weapons, radios, and equipment belts over to where we were, making a small pile. ¡°Please tell me they have stuff under control by now.¡±


    Paige shook her head. ¡°We have no idea. Most of the cameras have been destroyed already. The only ones left are outside and a couple in this stairwell here. So we can tell you if anyone¡¯s coming, but that¡¯s about it.¡±


    The answer made me grimace and curse a few times under my breath. Now, what were we supposed to do? Should we just sit tight like we¡¯d been told? What if they sent more people down here to find out what had happened to their friends? Would it be better to wait here and meet them? Well, obviously, yes. We could prepare this area. Better than if we went looking for them. But on the other hand, what if there were people up there being hurt right now? What if people died while we were sitting around down here doing nothing?


    Sierra moved over to the nearest guy, and began to drag him by his ankle while he was still groaning in pain. ¡°Oh shush, you big baby. I didn¡¯t hit you that hard. Just be glad I didn¡¯t get to bring my new taser cane. Then you¡¯d really have something to whine about.¡± With that, she unceremoniously kicked open the door into the room across from where we had left Banneret with Peyton and Wren, shoving him inside.


    Paige and I quickly started to help, and soon we had all of them shoved into that room. Sierra shut the door and locked it, leaving those guys in there. It wasn¡¯t perfect, obviously. But it would hold them for a minute. And hopefully we¡¯d hear if they started trying to break out.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I started, ¡°so now we have a whole pile of weapons here, and we¡¯ll know if they start coming down the stairs. But we have no idea what¡¯s going on up there in the rest of the courthouse. We¡¯ve gotta find some way to check on things.¡±


    ¡°I can help!¡± That was Wren, coming out of the other room. She bounced up and down a little while, reaching into her pocket before producing a tiny thing that I had to lean closer to see. It looked like a bumblebee made of metal, like some sort of tiny ornament, or something.


    ¡°It¡¯s a drone!¡± The girl announced proudly, as we all stared. ¡°See?¡± She touched the top of its head, and the thing floated up in the air. Then she turned her phone around to show us the screen, where we could see our own faces from the view of the drone itself. ¡°It can fly around and show us what¡¯s going on! I was building it to help with security at the shop. Cuz Uncle Fred said we needed more cameras and the ones that just sit there and don¡¯t do anything are boring.¡±


    ¡°Kid¡¯s got a point,¡± Sierra agreed. ¡°Bee cam is much more interesting than boring old do-nothing cameras. Plus, you wouldn¡¯t be able to send one of those upstairs to snoop around.¡±


    Nodding slowly, I painted a smiley face on the front of my helmet. ¡°Good job, Trev. Why don¡¯t you send your little buddy up there and we¡¯ll see if the good guys have this under control yet.¡±


    She did just that, while Peyton stood in the doorway of the other room so she could watch while also keeping an eye on the still-cursing Banneret. Together, we all stared at Wren¡¯s phone while she controlled the bee with it, sending the thing up the stairs.


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t there an elevator to come down here, anyway?¡± Peyton demanded with her arms folded. ¡°Isn¡¯t that like, the law or something? You¡¯d think a courthouse of all places would have to be accessible to the handicapped.¡±


    ¡°There is an elevator,¡± Paige informed her. ¡°It¡¯s just hidden over by the western wall that way, near the stairs. You can sort of see the seam where the doors are. I guess they only let certain people use it, or only open it when someone comes in who needs it.¡±


    ¡°But why is it hidden in the first place?¡± I pointed out. ¡°What¡¯s the point of hiding an elevator?¡±


    ¡°Dude, this whole underground place isn¡¯t supposed to be here at all,¡± Sierra reminded me. ¡°The lawyers who get brought down here have to be blindfolded first so they don¡¯t know where it is, and the entrance is labeled as a supply closet.¡±


    Right, no wonder Banneret and her people had thought they found a secret exit when they started coming down those stairs. And, actually, they had. I kind of doubted that big metal security door would have stopped them forever. So if we hadn¡¯t been here, they eventually could have gone all the way down the tunnel to that house, where we still had no idea what was going on with Officer Metts and the others. Part of me wanted to pink-paint my way through the vault door and run down that way to check on them, but there wasn¡¯t time. They were probably fine and just locked down this place to stop anyone from escaping that way. Which I would obviously mess up by doing just that.


    Either way, by that point, the bee drone had flown all the way to the top of the stairs, where it found the aforementioned empty ¡®supply closet.¡¯ Wren carefully sent it through the open doorway, peeking first one direction, then the next. It was in a very large open corridor somewhere on the ground floor of the courthouse. To the right was the front rotunda with the welcome desk (where no one was sitting at the moment), while the corridor went on to the left past an assortment of doors into various offices. It looked like there was another corridor past the rotunda leading to even more doors, with a sign above the entrance to it listing various courtroom locations. From here, we couldn¡¯t see any signs of people, aside from the fact that several doors had clearly been kicked in, and there were random bits of debris lying around.


    Wait, scratch that, there was a sign of people. Namely, the gunfire. It came from the rotunda area abruptly, making me jump. The sound was followed by a view of three armed guys backing up into frame from where they had apparently been right by the front windows of the building. They were pointing their guns outward, one of them shouting, ¡°Yeah, you want your precious legal eagles to stay alive, keep the fuck back!¡±


    Okay great, so now we knew they had hostages, and they were using them. No wonder the authorities hadn¡¯t stormed this place yet. But that made our whole situation even more complicated. What were we supposed to do now? Obviously, rushing up there when they could kill innocent people was a bad idea, to say the least. But should we just sit tight and wait like the people outside were apparently doing? I really wished we still had all the cameras so we really knew what was going on everywhere in the building, but at least there was Wren¡¯s little bee drone. We just had to be patient and watch.


    Wren asked where she should send the thing next, and I thought about it for a moment while the others looked at me expectantly. Finally, I gestured. ¡°Send it higher up so we can get a better view of everything going on. Then I guess we should check out the court rooms on the far side of the front area. They probably put everyone in one place so it¡¯s easier to keep an eye on them, and one of those places is probably the best for that.¡±


    Murphy sighed. ¡°Why don¡¯t they just make a run for it? They¡¯ve gotta know the longer this goes on, the more screwed they are, you know? It¡¯s not like they¡¯ll actually be able to negotiate their way out of this. What¡¯re they gonna do, demand a fleet of helicopters?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what our friends down here were dealing with,¡± I replied. ¡°They were looking for a secret way out. I¡¯m not sure if they actually knew where the tunnel went or that the cops probably know about it, or even how they had any idea it could be here. But that¡¯s definitely what they were doing.¡±


    Paige nodded. ¡°And they¡¯re probably not the only ones. Believe me, this isn¡¯t the only tunnel this place has, and there¡¯s plenty of rumors about them and where they might be. Some more secret than others.¡±


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    By that time, the drone had reached the ceiling and gave us a good view of what turned out to be seven guys spread out in the rotunda. They were staying mostly behind cover and keeping a close eye on whoever was outside. I had no doubt that they had more guys at the other entrances, but this was the main one. All of the men were armed, and clearly had radios on so they could warn everyone else in their little gang. I didn¡¯t see any of the Fell-Touched, but there was no doubt they were somewhere around here. I didn¡¯t believe Banneret would be the only one to come on this rescue mission of theirs. And knowing those guys were around somewhere, but not exactly where they were or what they were up to made me nervous.


    Shaking that thought off for the moment, I continued to stare at the screen while the drone flew over all those guys¡¯ heads. Their focus was centered on the front windows, so none of them even thought of looking up, even if that would have helped. Given the size of the drone, they might not have noticed it even then.


    The doors leading into the various court rooms were all closed, aside from one. A man with some sort of automatic rifle slung over his shoulder was standing there playing lookout. So, that was obviously where Wren sent the drone.


    We had to be more careful with this. The man was actually watching the hallway at least part of the time, though he turned to glance inside at what I presumed were the hostages now and then. Considering he didn¡¯t have his eyes on them all the time, I doubted he was the only guard. Not to mention the fact that he occasionally seemed to mumble something under his breath as though talking to somebody nearby. We had to get the drone low enough to make it into the room without actually letting him see it, and without flying directly into the view of whoever he was talking to on the other side.


    To that end, Wren carefully made the drone land on top of the doorjamb just over the guy¡¯s head. From that position, we could see his balding spot, and finally hear what he was saying. Basically, he was annoyed that the others hadn¡¯t checked in yet, and wanted to know how long they were supposed to stand around and wait. He also mentioned that he wasn¡¯t sure whether he trusted their new Fell-Touched yet. Apparently Mister Harmful had said something to him that was rude or whatever and he didn¡¯t appreciate it.


    After that, we heard another voice, female this time, say that she didn¡¯t care how rude any of them were, because moving to this city was the best thing she¡¯d done. She had some sort of excellent sign-up bonus for agreeing to come here with ¡®Gregory,¡¯ whom I was taking to be her son through context. Apparently she¡¯d even been set up with a decent cover job.


    Working extremely carefully, Wren moved the drone to the corner of the doorway and made it peek down. Thankfully, we didn¡¯t have the extremely horrible luck of the woman staring right at the thing. Her back was to the other man as she watched what was very clearly a large group of hostages. The woman had blonde hair that was mostly buzzed. Aside from a ponytail-sized bit on one side that was long enough to fall to her shoulders. She also had a tattoo of something on the back of her neck that I couldn¡¯t really make out but looked like a flower with something in it. Like her partner, she had a gun slung over her shoulder.


    As for the hostages, it looked like there were a couple hundred of them, a mix of court employees, disarmed police officers, lawyers, even defendants. They were all sitting down in the audience area of the courtroom. We couldn¡¯t see the whole area, and everything was upside down from this point of view, making us tilt our heads around to try to make sense of it. Paige and I even managed to slightly bang our heads together in the process, making the other girl flush as she murmured an apology.


    Wren made the bug slip fully into the room, inverted itself, and fly up toward the ceiling once more. Now we could make everything out better, and see that there were a couple more armed thugs spread throughout the room. And perched up in the judge¡¯s seat was Fogwalker. He was probably there so that if any of the hostages tried to make a run for it, he could fill the place in his power and make it impossible for anyone aside from their own people to see what was going on. Which would probably also work if any authorities tried to break in. Before they could actually handle everything, the place would be dark, and any number of the hostages could be killed. Come to think of it, the cops and Stars outside probably knew that. I was pretty sure these guys had made that much clear to them. It made sense that they would want those people to know what a bad idea it was to try to break in here and stop this by force.


    Or maybe I was just overthinking it. Either way, we knew where at least these hostages and one of the Fell-Touched were. Now we just had to figure out what to do about that, if anything. We had already dealt with one group that came down here. Was it a good idea to just sit tight now or not?


    While I was still trying to decide the best move, a voice came over the radios on both of their hips. I hadn¡¯t heard it much, but still recognized it as Theory. ¡°Has anyone heard from Banneret? She¡¯s not picking up on our channel.¡±


    The rest of us exchanged quick looks before Sierra pivoted and grabbed one of the radios from the pile of equipment on the floor. Holding it up, she spoke in a perfect imitation of Banneret¡¯s voice. ¡°Yeah, well, maybe you should try being on the right channel. It was supposed to be one zero four nine.¡±


    There was a brief pause before the man¡¯s voice came back with a sigh. ¡°No, it was one three one five. How the hell did you get the wrong one?¡±


    ¡°Whatever, why¡¯re you bothering me right now?¡± Sierra replied as Banneret once more. ¡°Don¡¯t we all have jobs to do?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± came the response, ¡°and I¡¯ve gotta make sure you¡¯re actually doing yours. So, what the hell¡¯s going on down there? Did you find that tunnel or what? Part A of the plan is pointless if we don¡¯t get enough attention with Part B. For that, we need the tunnel. Or we won¡¯t have time for part C.¡±


    Injecting annoyance into her voice, Sierra retorted, ¡°Yeah, we found it. And the chupapollas blocked it off. They sealed the tunnel with some sorta vault door. We¡¯re working on it.¡±


    I had no idea what that word she¡¯d said meant, or why she was saying it right now while trying to pose as Banneret. But I also couldn¡¯t ask. Paige, clearly interpreting my body language, put a hand on my shoulder and nodded reassuringly.


    And boy, how much had my life changed when Paige Banners could do anything that reassured me?


    Fortunately, Theory didn¡¯t seem to object or question that particular phrasing. He simply replied, ¡°Hold there, I¡¯ll send a couple down with one of the laser cutters we brought for Part C. They¡¯ll get through it. Looks like the Stars are still regrouping outside, but you know how their type is. They¡¯ll decide to breach sooner or later. I¡¯d rather be onto the next phase by the time that happens.¡±


    I tensed up a bit, but Sierra only hesitated for a second before replying, ¡°Yeah whatever. Give my guys enough time and they¡¯d find a way through this. But sure, if you¡¯re worried about a few Stars, go ahead and send your little toy down here. Or maybe I¡¯ll grab one of those hostages and try using their head as a battering ram.¡±


    The response was a little chuckle before the man signed off. Meanwhile, on the screen, the two guards in the courtroom were bantering with each other about which lawyer or judge they might send downstairs as a living battering ram if it came down to it.


    ¡°What¡¯s a chupapolla?¡± Peyton asked. ¡°And how¡¯d you know to say that?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s a bad word,¡± Paige put in. ¡°And we heard her use it twice while we were listening over the security cameras, so it was a safe call. But now they¡¯re sending a couple guys with a big laser down, so what do we do?¡±


    ¡°We let them bring it, then we take it from them,¡± I replied slowly, looking toward the stairs once more. ¡°I think we can--¡±


    ¡°Uh, Paintball!¡± That was Trevithick, blurting the words out fearfully as she pointed at the screen where the bee drone was still monitoring the courtroom. ¡°Look!¡±


    We all did, just in time to see one of the hostages, a red-haired guy in a fancy suit, lying on the ground with one of the other Prev bad guys standing over him. The thug was breathing hard, a slight bruise forming under his eye, while the hostage¡¯s nose looked like it was broken. Something had just happened.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re tough, huh?!¡± The Prev gang member snapped, aiming his gun at the man on the floor. ¡°Cheap-shotting piece of shit, let¡¯s see how tough you are with--¡±


    ¡°No.¡± That was Fogwalker, jumping down from the judge¡¯s stand to perch on the nearby railing. ¡°You shoot him, he doesn¡¯t learn anything. Neither does anyone else who wants to be a hero.¡± He looked around the room, a small smirk seeming to cross his feline face. ¡°No, if you wanna really teach them a lesson, you hurt the ones they care about.¡±


    With that, he nodded to the blonde woman from before, who reached down and tugged a wallet out of the fallen man¡¯s pocket. Opening it up, she held it out for the TONI to see while flipping through it. Fogwalker almost purred. ¡°Nice pictures? These your kids? Oooh and a wife too. Excellent.¡±


    The man started to respond, but the blonde woman put a foot on his throat while taking out her radio. Tuning to some other channel, she held the radio out for her boss. The lynx immediately began to speak again. ¡°Amos, Terrence, you guys still cruising out there? Need you to make a quick stop.¡± His head turned once more to look at the license his subordinate was holding up for him, reading off the address for Amos and Terrence.


    ¡°Head over there right now and kill everyone you find in that house. Then burn it down.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-09

    Oh. Oh this was bad. Now we had guys who weren¡¯t even here in the courthouse who were about to go out and kill some innocent people somewhere completely different? Not to mention burn down their house. All just to send a message to some guy who tried to stop them.


    We couldn¡¯t let that happen, obviously. But that wasn¡¯t our only problem. We also had those guys who were heading here right now with the laser thing. Which was undoubtedly going to lead to Theory and Praxis wanting to know if the doorway into the rest of the tunnel was open yet, and¡­ yeah, complications. So many complications.


    Even as we were all reacting to that, I had my phone out and was trying to call Amber. My first thought was to call Izzy, but given I was calling from the Paintball phone I didn¡¯t want my parents to start wondering why she was my first thought. Even now, in this situation, I had to worry about that sort of thing.


    I also half-expected (okay, more like three quarters-expected) to get no signal at all, considering how prevalent call blockers seemed to be. But, miracle of miracles, I immediately heard ringing. Apparently our friends upstairs weren¡¯t concerned about people making phone calls. Probably because they thought they had them all together in that room. Also the fact that it didn¡¯t matter how many calls they made if the authorities couldn¡¯t actually come into the building, of course.


    The phone rang three times before I heard Amber¡¯s voice. Or rather, her That-A-Way voice. ¡°Paintball? We just made it outside. Are you guys really in there? What¡¯s going--¡±


    ¡°Way!¡± I interrupted, giving a quick, questioning look toward Paige before nodding to the stairs. She, in turn, shook her head to indicate that we weren¡¯t about to have company yet. So I continued. ¡°Yes, we¡¯re here, but you have to go somewhere right now before innocent people get killed.¡± I quickly gave her an incredibly condensed version of what was happening and why she had to hurry, passing along the address as Paige recited it from memory for me. ¡°So you have to get there first, you have to go now!¡± I wasn¡¯t quite shouting, not wanting to draw attention just in case my voice carried too much. But I was definitely doing my level best to stress the urgency. Every second that this took made me more convinced that those other guys were gonna get there first.


    ¡°Damn it, that¡¯s to the south-east!¡± came the response a second later after Way had looked up the address. Which meant neither her super-speed nor teleportation could work, given those were only available when she was moving west or north, respectively. ¡°Hang on, just--Dynamic!¡± she shouted away from the phone, apparently flagging down the speedster/energy manipulator from the Conservators. I couldn¡¯t hear the next few seconds of conversation aside from some muffled words, but she came back a moment later. ¡°She¡¯s going. She¡¯s heading over there right now. It¡¯s okay. I mean it¡¯s really not okay, but she¡¯s got it. What about you guys? What the hell is going on in there?¡±


    Before I could respond to that, Paige waved her hand to get my attention and pointed to the stairs. So I quickly replied, ¡°Call you back, gotta deal with something.¡±


    With that, I disconnected the phone, and we all spread out to get out of sight, putting ourselves on either side of the stairwell entrance. Soon, I heard the footsteps approaching, and glanced over at Paige. She held up three fingers. Right, so we had a trio coming down here. We could deal with that, no problem. The real question would be how to handle what came next. Would the bad guys just keep sending a few people down at a time to see what was going on? Unlikely. But maybe we could set things up so that they only came down at a speed and quantity we could deal with. As long as the people upstairs didn¡¯t get wind that their troops were being taken apart down here, at least.


    Of course, we¡¯d run into problems as soon as it was someone like Juice or Janus, anyone we couldn¡¯t take down and get under control immediately. But that was a problem for later. One step at a time.


    And speaking of steps, our three bad guys came off the last ones and went dashing through the doorway together. Two of them were carrying a four-foot long, one-foot wide tube thing that sort of looked like a grenade launcher. They came without even noticing Poise, Calvin, and me standing on one side of the doorway, or Style, Hobbes, and Alloy standing on the other. And they certainly didn¡¯t notice Trevithick hovering in the air above them. She didn¡¯t have her wing-pack right now, but apparently she had already upgraded her shoes and gloves to allow her to hover in the air without it.


    In any case, the guys didn¡¯t notice her either. They did, however, notice the stack of guns and radios piled up about halfway through the room. Coming to a sudden halt, the group stared that way uncomprehendingly. One of them reached for the radio on his hip, which was our cue. Raising both hands, I shot that guy with a mix of purple and black paint before activating it. The muting power of the black paint was expanded by the purple to encompass all of them. They had already started to twist around, eyes widening as they saw us. But now they couldn¡¯t even communicate with each other, let alone call for help on their radios. And that was just about it for them. Within seconds, all three guys were down, their equipment secured, and Sierra and Peyton were escorting them to the room where their friends were already locked up.


    Once that was taken care of, I picked up one of the radios those three had left behind. ¡°Okay, now what¡¯s going on up there?¡± I was looking toward the ceiling, where Wren was still hovering while keeping an eye on the view from her bee-drone. She¡¯d had the audio playing through that mask of hers so she could hear it without giving us away to the new arrivals.


    She, in turn, quickly returned to the floor so I could see the screen for myself. ¡°That, umm, hostage guy, he¡¯s begging them not to hurt his family.¡± Her voice caught a bit. ¡°I muted it while he was¡­ while he was doing that.¡± The kid audibly swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I just couldn¡¯t-- He¡¯s really sad.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Paige put in while crouched over the tube thing those guys had dropped when we jumped them. ¡°She let me connect to her equipment. I can hear what¡¯s going on. It¡¯s--they haven¡¯t made him stop pleading yet. I think they like hearing it.¡±


    Well, these guys were assholes. Not that that was a surprise. After all, they were the ones who had sent people to go murder an innocent family just because the father didn¡¯t behave for them. At least they were consistent that way.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied to both girls, ¡°well Dynamic¡¯s heading over there right now. She¡¯ll save his family. We just have to focus on saving him, and the rest of those people up there. And we still don¡¯t know where Theory and Praxis, Juice, or Janus are. And--¡±


    ¡°Hang on a second,¡± Paige interrupted. ¡°Trevithick, do you see--¡±


    ¡°The girl!¡± Wren blurted, sounding both confused and excited.


    ¡°What girl?¡± That was Murphy. ¡°Huh?¡±


    So, Wren showed us on the screen, rewinding the footage. As we watched, the blonde gang woman from before with the mostly-buzz cut hair exchanged whispered words with Fogwalker. Then she stepped away and took out her cell phone before typing in a message. Wren must have moved the bee closer or zoomed in or something, because we quickly saw the screen a bit better. She was sending a message to¡­ wait, she was sending a message to the Doephone app? It was a warning about two guys going to an address to--what the fuck? She was sending the authorities a warning about the two guys they had sent to the address of that guy¡¯s house. She was telling the cops to stop the very guys she had sent to--huh?


    My head was shaking even as I watched the woman give Fogwalker a nod to show it was done. ¡°Wait. Hold on, was that whole thing an act? I mean, hold up, sending a couple guys to kill a woman and some kids and burn down their house just because a guy annoyed them must be further than the Ministry wants them to go. So was that whole ¡®go kill them¡¯ just to build their rep as dangerous, or convince the hostages not to try anything else, or¡­ something like that?¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Sierra muttered a few curses. ¡°But they don¡¯t wanna go completely against the Ministry¡¯s rules, so they alert the authorities and pretend it could¡¯ve come from anyone¡¯s phone in the building. I mean look, they¡¯re practically begging someone in that room to secretly use their phone. They¡¯re barely looking at them.¡±


    Okay, well at least these guys weren¡¯t so bad that they would actually kill a family like that. But still. ¡°What the hell is their plan?¡± I demanded. ¡°The real one, I mean. Theory said the tunnel down here is Part B, and that the whole thing only works if they get enough attention. So is the other part of the plan just¡­ another escape tunnel or something? Maybe they want to draw attention to this tunnel so they can use a different one. One that might not be so well-covered?¡± I was already frowning throughout that. ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. Theory said they need ¡®the tunnel,¡¯ not ¡®the other tunnel¡¯ or ¡®that tunnel.¡¯ So it can¡¯t just be that simple. But what then? They¡¯re not just walking out the back door. What¡­ the hell are they doing up there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll find them!¡± Wren declared, directing the bee drone out of the courtroom with a murmured apology to the man there. Things would be bad if Fogwalker and the others decided to kill some of those hostages after all. But we only had one drone and we still had to find the other Fell-Touched. The longer we went without knowing where those guys were or what they were up to, the worse my bad feeling got. Besides, after what we had just found out, I was pretty sure it would take an awful lot before they actually killed any of them.


    Style spoke up in a flat voice while the drone was making its way through the building. ¡°Right, brilliant, so as long as they keep sending a couple guys at a time, we¡¯re good. No chance they mix it up, get creative, or just figure out we¡¯re fucking with them, right?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll deal with it,¡± Poise informed her while picking up the tube thing. ¡°So this is the laser they were talking about. I checked, there¡¯s no self-destruct on it, no listening devices, but there is a tracker. I can disable that whenever you want. They¡¯ll know when I do it though.¡±


    ¡°They figured the laser was powerful enough to cut through a vault door,¡± I murmured, ¡°so it¡¯s gotta be pretty strong. Maybe we can use that for something. If nothing else, Wren can have it for spare parts and to examine.¡±


    Wren, for her part, clapped while bouncing up and down in the air using her hover boots. ¡°Yay, toys! I mean, not toys, dangerous weapon. But I can make it--I mean I can--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, we get it,¡± I assured her. ¡°And yeah, you can turn it into something useful. Or at least learn from it.¡± That said, I looked down at the screen on the phone she had handed me as the drone slowly made its way along the ceiling to check other rooms. ¡°Now we just need to--¡± Quickly, I interrupted myself while hitting the button on the screen to stop the drone. Juice had just emerged from one of the doors, accompanied by Theory and half a dozen armed guys. ¡°Look, look,¡± I blurted, waving a hand while unmuting the thing so we could all hear instead of just Paige. The others gathered around while I held it up.


    ¡°--finally just get those cops to come through and get her ass back with the others so we can get out of here,¡± Juice was saying.


    Wait, what? Get the cops to come through? Where--why--huh? Now I was even more confused, to say the least.


    Theory shook his head, looking one way, then the other down the corridor. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t look straight up at our tiny drone. Finally, he gestured for the others to follow as he went right, further away from the courtroom where the hostages and Fogwalker were. ¡°Banneret knows what she¡¯s doing. They¡¯ll get those cops¡¯ attention, make them think we¡¯re fighting our way out through there so they pull in all the help they can get to reinforce. Which they obviously can¡¯t pull off the doors they¡¯re already covering, so they¡¯ll have to pull it in from somewhere else.¡± He gave a low, dangerous chuckle then, sounding a lot like the mad scientist his outfit already seemed to be channeling. ¡°And that¡¯s when the real fun starts. So go grab troops and make sure everyone¡¯s got their ducks in a row for it.¡±


    Okay, I definitely didn¡¯t like the sound of that. And from the way the others reacted, they didn¡¯t either. I couldn¡¯t see their faces, but from what I could pick out¡­ yeah, they were all as worried as I was by that. Clearly, opening up that tunnel behind us was an integral part of the Trendscendents¡¯ plan. So they weren¡¯t just going to give up on it or only send a couple people. As soon as this took too long, they¡¯d investigate. Probably in force this time. Plus, what was that about the real fun starting once they managed to lure reinforcements to the tunnel?


    The group on screen split up at that point, with Juice and Janus moving back the way they had come while Theory continued down the hall. Wren gave me a quick look, asking, ¡°Who¡¯re we gonna follow?¡±


    I had to think quickly before making the drone trail after Theory, watching the man from above. ¡°He¡¯s the one who was talking about the plan, whatever it is. I want to see what he¡¯s doing now. If those other guys are getting the troops ready, he¡¯s gotta be the one doing the actual work for whatever it is, right?¡±


    ¡°Works for me,¡± Sierra agreed, eating a piece of beef jerky. When we glanced at her, she shrugged. ¡°One of those guys had it in his pocket. What¡¯s he gonna do, complain about it?¡±


    Before any of us could actually respond to that, Theory stepped into a small, clearly private elevator at the end of the hall. He had to put his hand on a fingerprint/palm scanner, which he did while wearing a glove. The scanner went over the glove and beeped an affirmative. So clearly, there was something special about that glove. Before the doors closed, I sent the bee drone inside and moved it to a corner, so it would be out of sight.


    Hobbes was bouncing up and down on her toes, clearly anxious. ¡°What do we say when he calls back and asks if they¡¯ve got that wall open yet? I mean, if it¡¯s that big of a part of their plan, he¡¯s not exactly gonna be patient about it, right?¡±


    I had to think about that for a moment. It wasn¡¯t as though the guy wouldn¡¯t notice if the people outside never summoned reinforcements. The longer this took, the more suspicious he was going to become. But we still had to know what they were doing, and why this whole thing was happening. This had to be about more than just breaking their people out of the courthouse. It was too complicated.


    Besides, I had already been through one situation with these guys where what they were apparently doing was a lot different than what was actually going on. I didn¡¯t trust this one to be straightforward either.


    Finally, I sighed. ¡°When he calls in to check, tell him we¡¯re cutting through the wall and we can hear cops on the other side. Let them tell us what to do next. Maybe it¡¯ll give us some idea what their full plan is. But obviously, act like we know what it is already.¡± I was looking toward Sierra, since she had been the one to talk to him before. ¡°Think you can fake your way through another one of those as our friend in there?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been listening to every second of audio we have of her, here and from the news,¡± my doppelganger replied. ¡°Trust me babe, as long as he doesn¡¯t ask anything too personal, I can handle it.¡±


    I still wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about anyone calling me babe, let alone someone who looked exactly like me outside of a few minor cosmetic changes. But I couldn¡¯t think about that right now. Instead, I focused on the screen as the elevator stopped and Theory stepped out. The drone followed the man, while he emerged into what turned out to be some sort of private judge¡¯s office. And a pretty lavish one too. The room was as big as my dad¡¯s main office at home, and almost as well furnished. Theory moved to the nearby bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey before heading for the desk. ¡°Okay, shitface,¡± he announced aloud, ¡°let¡¯s see if you were lying about where the wardrobe to Narnia is.¡±


    Oookay, I had no idea what that meant. Who was he talking about? Wait, he was inputting a password on the laptop, which it immediately accepted. Quickly, I made the bee drone turn, looking for some sort of answer as to whose office this was. There, on the desk. There was a nameplate for Honorable Horace Cavers. Wait, Horace Cavers? That was San¡¯s dad. I¡¯d known he was a judge of some sort, but didn¡¯t realize he had an office like this.


    ¡°Guys,¡± I addressed Poise and Style quickly, ¡°can you check on Judge Horace Cavers and find out where he is right now? I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s any way to--¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not in the building,¡± Paige interrupted. ¡°I started checking as soon as you got that nameplate on screen. He called in sick this morning. And San--his son--¡± She added that for the benefit of the others. ¡°--was supposed to be at baseball practice today and never showed up. His wife had a date to get drinks with a couple of her friends and called to cancel at the last minute.¡±


    ¡°They have them,¡± I realized. ¡°These guys must have jumped the Cavers at their home before they came here. They got information out of the judge, his password and some sort of secret about a door, I think. What--¡±


    By that point, Theory was already typing on the computer. He had some sort of program up that looked like blueprints. But before we could zoom in for more details, he triumphantly hit one last button. As he did so, there was a loud beep and part of the wall across the office slid aside.


    ¡°Hell yeah,¡± Theory announced, before picking up his radio. The message came through all the ones we had lying around us.


    ¡°Okay people, if you¡¯re not working on that tunnel, pack your shit and get up here. Banneret, you better be ready to get those reinforcements called in right fucking now. Cuz I¡¯ve got Switchshift¡¯s backdoor open.


    ¡°And while Ten Towers is busy sending all their troops out to help the cops down there, it¡¯s time for us to stroll into their own vault and grab everything that¡¯s not nailed down.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-10

    Wait¡­ that¡¯s what these guys were really up to? Under this whole cover about being here to get their people out of custody, they were actually looking for this apparent back door to transport directly to Ten Towers so they could steal shit? Switchshift was the Tech-Touched who created things like the connected rooms that allowed the Minority to reach their secret headquarters from multiple doors all across the city (which I had only recently learned about from Izzy). So it made sense that he would have other things like that. Which, in this case, apparently included a door from the courthouse to a sensitive area of Ten Towers.


    While the others were reacting to that, I quickly called Way back. As soon as she answered, I gave her a rushed explanation of what we had just heard, and told her to warn Caishen and her people. And that she should get someone who could find the Cavers family to make sure they were okay. I was still worried about San Francisco and his parents considering these guys had apparently extracted information about this Switchshift door from them, but there wasn¡¯t enough time to focus on that. Way promised to do all that immediately before signing off.


    With that done, I made another quick call. This one was to Fred back at the store. Needless to say, he was a bit¡­ worried about everything that was happening. Especially when it came to Wren. But I promised him we were looking after her, and that we could do that even better if he did something for us. Namely, taking Roald and Murphy¡¯s Tech-Touched guns as well as one of the prototype versions Wren had been working on, and putting them in the special bag where my clothes currently were. The one I¡¯d left at the store that was linked to the one in my pocket. After a quick back and forth, he did just that.


    So now Calvin and Hobbes had their weapons, which was useful. And we had the prototype. Which, in this case, was essentially a long, wand-like cylinder with a couple buttons on it. It could pick things up and move them around with a beam of energy. Or, in this case, hold them in place. Yeah, we set it up to help hold Banneret so Alloy could have her marble back, since it seemed like she¡¯d need it. We¡¯d have to leave the prototype in this room so it could continue projecting the energy beam that held Banneret off the floor and stopped her from touching anything, but like most of Wren¡¯s equipment, any unauthorized person touching it for too long would make the thing melt into goo anyway. So we weren¡¯t worried about someone taking it.


    With Calvin and Hobbes sufficiently armed and Alloy reunited with her marble, my mouth opened to say something to the others, but before I could, Wren raised a hand and pointed at her screen. ¡°Wait, wait, look!¡±


    So we looked. Theory was on a video call on his phone, holding it out in front of himself. From that position, our bee-drone could see the screen. It was a view of the courtroom where the hostages were waiting. Fogwalker was perched on top of the judge¡¯s podium, desk, or whatever it was called. Apparently one of their people was holding a phone up for him to talk to his partner with. Which he did in a low, snarling voice. ¡°We¡¯re getting a bit anxious down here, Genius-boy. Are we ready to go or what?¡±


    Theory nodded. ¡°Yeah, bring ¡®em all up. Whoever¡¯s left at Towers once this goes down gets to decide how many hostage deaths they wanna be responsible for.¡±


    With that, he disconnected before picking up his radio, sending a message to Banneret for her to ¡®do the thing.¡¯ Without waiting for a response, he stood, waving for the line of Prev troops who had been waiting for his go ahead to start moving through the special door he had unlocked. The invasion of Ten Towers was underway. Worse, they were apparently going to be bringing those hostages in there with them to use against the security forces there.


    I froze for a moment, my panicked mind seizing up. What were we supposed to do now? What--how--the hostages. We had to focus on the hostages. If they took those people into Ten Towers, that whole situation was going to be a hell of a lot worse.


    ¡°Pack and the others?¡± I blurted, even as I started to move toward the stairs. The others were right behind me.


    ¡°No sign of them,¡± Sierra replied. ¡°Not since that first bit when they were heading into the records room. You want someone to go down there and check on them?¡±


    My head shook, sprinting up the stairs two at a time. ¡°No, leave it, we¡¯ve gotta get those hostages. No more playing around.¡± Maybe the authorities would end up being upset about us, leaving the basement and interfering, but I really didn¡¯t care at that moment. Not when those guys were about to start dragging innocent people into the middle of a fight to use as human shields.


    ¡°Paintball,¡± Paige interrupted my thoughts, ¡°you and Alloy should go help Ten Towers.¡± When I turned that way in mid-step to argue, she insisted. ¡°It¡¯s Fogwalker and some guys with guns. The rest of us can handle that. Trust me--trust us. We¡¯ve got it, Paintball. But Ten Towers is about to be under threat from the inside where they¡¯re not expecting it. You know how dangerous people like Juice and Janus are. That¡¯s where Lightning Bug lives. Even with That-A-Way warning them, it might not be enough. We need to split our attention.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go too!¡± That was Wren, hovering up ahead of us along the stairs with her special boots. ¡°I can help, I promise!¡±


    Part of me wanted to argue even more, but there wasn¡¯t time. And Paige was right anyway. They could handle the hostage situation. The real threat was the rest of the Fell-Touched and their army heading into the middle of Ten Towers. We had to get over there and help.


    So, reaching the top of the stairs and emerging into the courthouse proper, we split up. Poise, Style, Calvin, and Hobbes sprinted toward the lobby. I could hear the guards there react, but they wouldn¡¯t be enough to stop Paige and the others.


    Meanwhile, Trevithick, Alloy, and I looked toward the ceiling together. Reaching out, I sent a wide shot of pink paint that way, before all three of us were lifted up on a platform one of Alloy¡¯s marbles turned into. Reaching the pink-paint, I activated it, then used a bit of purple strength to tear through quickly. Soon, we were moving through the ceiling and into the upper floor. It was one of the other judge¡¯s private quarters, not the one we needed. But we were getting closer. A quick glance toward Wren¡¯s phone as she held it up revealed that there was still a line of Prev troops heading through the doorway. And all of them were heavily armed. They had come loaded for what looked like a full scale war. Worse, Janus, Juice, and Devil¡¯s Due were heading through as well. Whatever the situation on the other side of that door was right then, I doubted ¡®pleasant¡¯ was anywhere near the list of adjectives. Yeah, assuming the others stopped Fogwalker and his group they at least wouldn¡¯t have a bunch of hostages to use, but still. We had to get in there and help.


    Thankfully, with my paint, we could get there quickly. We didn¡¯t bother trying to go through the hallways or anything like that. We just picked the right direction and used pink paint to go through the walls, racing from room to room like that, one after another. Maybe the authorities would complain about that, too, but we¡¯d worry about it later. Right now, all that mattered was getting there before this whole situation became completely unsalvageable.


    And as we were going, I sent a quick text to Way to let her know what was going on and what we were doing. Then I put the phone away just as we went through the last wall. There were only a couple more guys left, including one standing next to the computer. As soon as he saw the three of us Kool-Aid Man our way into the room, he lunged for the keyboard, apparently intent on closing the doorway. Fortunately, Alloy was faster, sending a fist-shaped marble to slam into the man and knock him to the floor.


    The other guy took one look at us before turning to dive through that doorway in order to warn the rest. But I was faster too, sending a shot of red paint that hit his back and yanked him away from it to crash into the wall next to me where I had sent a second shot of paint.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Hey, hope we didn¡¯t miss the party!¡± I blurted. ¡°We would¡¯ve RSVP¡¯d, but I¡¯m pretty sure crashing is fashionable these days.¡±


    Without wasting another second, Alloy and I both grabbed handcuffs that the men themselves had on their belts, and secured them to a metal pole along the wall. Doing that plus grabbing the keys from their pockets and their guns before tossing the latter out of the way took precious seconds, but we didn¡¯t want them coming after us.


    Finally, we exchanged quick looks between ourselves and Wren, nodded to one another, and went straight for the special doorway. I just hoped that we could handle whatever was on the other side, and that Paige and the others were doing okay with their part of this whole thing. But hey, at least I had a team to worry about now.


    I had absolutely no idea what I would¡¯ve done if I was by myself right then.


    Alloy and I went first, passing through the doorway together before emerging into what looked like another office similar to the one we had just left. Which made sense, I supposed. If the judge guy was working both at the courthouse and here in Ten Towers, he¡¯d probably need a similar space.


    Whatever the specific reasoning, we came out on the far side of the room from the doorway leading into the building proper. I could hear a bunch of alarms going off already, and there were several of the armed gang troops in front of us, facing the exit as they fired a few shots out into the hallway. Apparently they were in the middle of an ongoing fight. From that quick glance, I didn¡¯t see any of the Fell-Touched, just these few guys. They had probably been left behind to guard this exit or something.


    One of the guys noticed our presence behind them and turned to look. Before he could shout, I hit him with black paint to mute the man. At the same time, the two of us leapt that way. He and his partners went down quickly, the others never knowing what hit them until they were on the ground. They struggled, obviously, but Alloy kept them in place with one of her marbles shaped like a long metal band, trapping the three against the floor while we took their weapons away.


    Trevithick appeared through the doorway a moment later, and I held up a hand for her to wait there before looking toward the opposite exit. The Ten Towers guards were still out there, and I didn¡¯t trust them not to open fire the second they saw movement.


    I could have protected myself with orange paint, but instead, I pointed my hand and shot a bit of red paint out into the hallway beyond. Not to pull anything, in this case. Instead, I painted words on the floor in as large of letters as I could manage, reading, ¡®Paintball Here. Bad Guys Down. Don¡¯t Shoot.¡¯


    Was it weird that I was able to paint that in perfectly legible script while shooting a stream of paint out of a doorway to write it essentially upside down and sideways from my perspective?


    After doing that, I glanced toward Wren. She had the laptop from the judge¡¯s office. As I looked at her, she gave me a thumbs up before hitting a couple keys on it. Immediately, the door behind her closed and I heard it lock. ¡°Now nobody else can come through! Unless Poise and the others wanna come, then I can unlock it again!¡±


    Giving her a thumbs up, I turned back to the other doorway, just as a shout filled the air. ¡°This is Towers Security! If you¡¯re really there, Paintball, show yourself and prove it!¡±


    It could have been a trick, or something, of course. But something told me it wasn¡¯t. Theory and the others were here for a reason and it wasn¡¯t to hang out around this room. They¡¯d probably taken off running for their target as soon as they came through. Still, I gave myself some orange paint for protection before carefully stepping out. I had my hands raised as I looked around.


    It was, obviously, the middle of an office building. This particular room was in the corner, with a wide corridor extending in both directions away from it, leading to (presumably) more offices. A dozen or so armed and uniformed security guards were using those other doorways for cover as they kept their weapons raised and pointed at me.


    ¡°Prove you are who you say!¡± the man who was apparently in charge called. ¡°And tell us what the hell is going on!¡±


    Right, that was fair. Carefully, moving my hands to either side, I shot paint at the walls. Then I put a big blue smiley face in the middle of my chest. Once they had a chance to see that much, I spoke up again. ¡°Those guys attacked the courthouse. But it was a trick. They just wanted to use Switchshift¡¯s door back in that office over there to come through and attack this place. The rest of my team and I were there to make some reports and got caught up in this whole thing. We heard what they were doing over here, so a few of us came to help.¡± As I said that, I gestured for the other two to come out. Soon, Trevithick and Alloy were on either side of me.


    Finally assured that this wasn¡¯t some sort of trick, the security guards lowered their weapons and approached. The leader glanced into the office and saw the still-pinned guys there before ordering a couple of his guys to cuff them. Alloy promptly removed the bar so they could do that.


    ¡°Any more trouble gonna come through there?¡± the leader asked, nodding toward the inner door.


    My head shook as I gestured to the laptop that Trevithick was holding up. ¡°We¡¯ve got the computer for that. She locked it down, but if you guys want to post guards, I think we¡¯d understand. What¡¯s the situation around here?¡± Even as those words came out, I was already bouncing up and down on my toes, looking around quickly just in case we ended up with unwanted company. There were still alarms going off, and I could hear gunshots echoing throughout the building occasionally. This whole thing wasn¡¯t anywhere near contained yet.


    The security guy exchanged a look with his companions before sighing. ¡°All of our communications are cut off inside the building. We can¡¯t coordinate with the rest of our teams. They shut down most of our security measures. We¡¯re not even sure how they knew about it, let alone how to turn it off. Worse, they¡¯ve locked down the building. No one can get in. Except through that door, apparently.¡± He added that bit with a nod to the room behind me. ¡°As for the bad guys, they¡¯re everywhere, it seems like. But the biggest force seems to be heading for our weapons vaults, where we keep all the big stuff.¡± His expression sobered as he met my gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t think I have to tell you how bad it would be if they got all that stuff. The boss and the rest of our Touched who were in the building before it got locked down are holding them off down there. Our job was to stem the tide and make sure no more reinforcements could come through. And cut off their escape from this end.¡±


    For a second I just took all that in. ¡°Okay, Fogwalker¡¯s in the other building still. Our uhh, teammates are dealing with him. And we already caught Banneret. Which means the ones attacking your vault must be Theory and Praxis, Juice, Janus, and Devil¡¯s Due. Honestly, that last guy is probably one of the biggest threats when it comes to getting into places you don¡¯t want him. But assuming Skip is here, she¡¯d be immune to him, so that probably helps. I--¡±


    ¡°Pardon,¡± the security head interrupted. ¡°That¡¯s only four Touched. Well, four and a half. We¡¯ve got seven in the building, at least. Two-Step and Lastword are here too, and they¡¯ve got someone else with them. Some woman with what looks like liquid metal powers, like the T-1000 from that old Terminator movie.¡±


    Two-Step and Lastword? Jeez, how long had it been since I thought about them? And apparently they had more help with a third member of their little group? That made things even more complicated and difficult than they already were. I had thought that we only had the four known bad guys to deal with, which already would have been bad enough, considering how dangerous they could be. But now we had to add three more Touched into the equation. One of whom could have basically any power since Lastword¡¯s abilities changed based on the¡­ well, last word he spoke. And the new girl was almost a complete unknown. T-1000 powers? How far could she stretch that? What else was she capable of? We had no idea. Yeah, this just kept getting worse the more I thought about it. And we hadn¡¯t even come here with the whole team. It was just Trevithick, Alloy, and me.


    ¡°They hired mercenaries to help,¡± Alloy muttered while I was processing that. ¡°Just great. What do we do now?¡±


    Grimacing under the helmet and mask, I replied, ¡°We stop them. Caishen and her people need help down there. But then again--¡± I winced, looking toward the security guy. ¡°You said they¡¯ve got more troops spread through the rest of the building?¡±


    ¡°Buildings,¡± he corrected. ¡°And yeah, it¡¯s bad. But trust me, it¡¯ll be a hell of a lot worse if they get into that vault. We can deal with the rest of it. If you can help the boss, we¡¯d appreciate it.¡±


    Yeah, he had a point. If all of the Fell-Touched were focused on getting into the vault, Caishen and her people wouldn¡¯t be able to hold them off forever. We had to get down there and help, or this whole situation was going to get a hell of a lot worse. Both in the short and long term. But if something else happened while we were busy with that, or if one of those Fell-Touched managed to¡­


    ¡°Okay,¡± I finally managed, shaking off as much of the doubt and uncertainty as I could. This was what we had to deal with. There was no point in worrying or wondering about what-ifs. ¡°Just point us in the right direction. We¡¯ll get down there and help Caishen kick these guys out of your offices.


    ¡°But we better be invited to the next Christmas party for this.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-11

    So, following the directions of our new security buddy, Alloy, Trevithick, and I made our way through the building toward the vault area that the bad guys were apparently trying so intently to break into. We ran into a few other scattered groups of security people, but they recognized us and didn¡¯t open fire despite a close call or two. When we told them where we were going, they even helpfully pointed the right way. Unfortunately, none of them could come with us, because they were too busy trying to keep the rest of the building as safe as possible.


    Yeah, this gang really knew what they were doing when they came in. They had scattered just enough of their heavily armed troops away to various corners of the building to put people in danger so Ten Towers couldn¡¯t focus their entire response on the vaults. Between that and the fact that they had locked down the building so no one outside could get in, and terminated communications, it was obvious that they had come in with a plan.


    To be honest, part of me was wondering how much of what they knew was thanks to my family. Did the Ministry give them all the information about how the security in here worked, the codes to get through, the fact that they could get everything they needed about the courthouse Switchshift door from San¡¯s dad? They had to be at least partially responsible, right? Which would mean they wanted these guys to be able to get in here and take these weapons. Why?


    Not for the first and certainly not the last time, I wished I could just ask my parents what the hell they were thinking. Instead, I shook off those thoughts as the three of us approached the elevator that was supposed to lead down to the vault. It was locked down, of course. And according to the guy we had talked to upstairs, it would take hours to drill through the metal this thing was made of. But thankfully, we didn¡¯t have to worry about that. Really, all I had to worry about was getting billed for damages over what I was about to do, but how much could that possibly cost?


    Besides, if this worked, they would totally owe us. They could deal with replacing part of their elevator door, no matter what it was made out of.


    As we approached the huge freight style elevator with the security doors, I shot a spray of pink paint over it in a circle before adding black paint around it to silence the metal. Then Alloy turned one of her marbles into a battering ram, and it slammed into the pink paint with enough force to knock the circle out, manifesting claws to grab onto the pink-covered metal before it could fall into the elevator shaft and loudly announce our presence.


    That left a hole wide enough for each of us to dive through one at a time, which we did without hesitation. Now we were in the elevator shaft, and I used a shot of black and red paint from each hand to pull myself over to the far wall, where I stuck with my boots. Alloy landed on her own marble battering ram, turning it into a platform (which was still holding onto the pink metal from the door). Trevithick, of course, hovered on her boots. They weren¡¯t as quick or maneuverable as her wings, but they still allowed her to stay off the ground.


    The three of us looked at each other, then turned our attention downwards through the shaft to the next floor below. We could hear fighting going on, gunshots, shouting, that sort of thing. We were definitely in the right place. Which was good, considering how little time we undoubtedly had. If we¡¯d gotten turned around and ended up breaking through some other elevator so we had to circle back again, I had a feeling we would¡¯ve been too late.


    But we hadn¡¯t gotten turned around. We were here. So, together, we quietly made our way down to that lower level. The doors here were just as reinforced as the ones above, if not more so. But that wouldn¡¯t matter any more than those others had. What really mattered was that we had to get out there and hit the Trendscendent Touched before they noticed our arrival. We had to take them by surprise if we were going to actually end up helping rather than hindering. There were only two of us who could actually fight, because there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to let Trevithick get anywhere near actual danger. To do this right, we had to take full advantage of the fact that Trendscendents had no idea we were here.


    To that end, I had already covered the three of us with as much paint as I could on our way down here. Alloy simply moved parts of her armor out of the way a bit at a time so I could paint underneath the marble. Even though it would be covered by her marbles, I could still activate it with a glance as long as I knew exactly where it was and could picture the paint in my head.


    Trevithick, again, was absolutely not going into combat. She was here to help from the sidelines. Even so, I still gave her all the paint I could, just in case. If something bad happened, I wanted her to have protection. Between that and the gun she¡¯d had Fred send over in case of an emergency, hopefully she¡¯d be okay as long as she stayed out of sight.


    Now we were as ready as we were going to be. We just had to be careful about exactly when we showed ourselves. So, I made another pink circle on this lower door, but this time I made it smaller, and down near the bottom so I had to crouch to be in front of it. From there, I gave myself a bit of a purple boost by activating the hummingbird image on my left shoulder (replacing it with one facing the other direction) before giving that bit of pink a poke.


    It popped out, falling to the floor on the other side. Thankfully, it was small enough that the people over there didn¡¯t hear anything over the sound of gunfire and all that. Which left a small hole. Too small, in fact, for me to get my helmet close enough to peer through. Even then I wouldn¡¯t have been able to see everything on the other side.


    On the other hand, it was not too small for Trevithick to send her bee drone through. Which she did, before flying it into the air to give us a decent view of what was on the other side through the screen on her phone.


    The room immediately visible on the other side of those doors through the drone¡¯s camera was a wide open circular area about a hundred feet across with a single desk in the middle where someone was supposed to sit, be it a security guard, receptionist, assistant, or whatever. There were three vault doors around the circular wall, one directly across from the elevator we were in and the other two spaced to either side. All three of those doors were open, but that didn¡¯t mean the bad guys already had the loot. Because through each of those doors was another open area similar to the first one, with another desk and a single vault door behind it. Those were the doors that led into the secure storage areas. The Trendscendents were going to have to break through those second doors to get what they wanted. And that was what Caishen and her people were here to stop them from doing.


    There were at least a couple dozen armed Prev troops in that first room alone. Their gang had managed to completely take over that area. Unfortunately, that meant Caishen¡¯s people were cut off from each other within whichever of the vaults they had each managed to retreat to. There was no way to go from one vault to the other without going through that first area.


    It took a moment to figure out who was where, even with the drone¡¯s help as it flew around to get a better look at things. Finally, we had it. Caishen, three security guards, and Ephemera were in the vault to the left, fending off Juice, Two-Step, Last Word, and a handful of their guys who weren¡¯t part of the two dozen who were busy keeping that first room locked down. The second room was being assaulted by some three-quarters naked woman with metallic-red skin and blue hair, wearing only a bikini top and bottom along with a metal mask over her face with eye holes in it. The T-1000-like woman, I was going to guess. She was accompanied by another group of the Trendscendant Prev gang members, along with Theory (taking cover while clearly planning out what power to give Praxis next), and Devil¡¯s Due, who was being protected by one of Ten Towers¡¯ own security people. He must have used his power on the guy. Another four Ten Towers people were protecting the vault from them, along with Stick, Bunglebotch, and Linesight. That last one was the one who seemed to be doing the most work in keeping these guys away from the vault, considering his ability to mark four different spots so that if anyone looked at them, a blast of concussive force would hurl them away.


    Finally, the third vault was being protected by Skip, another few troops, and a guy I didn¡¯t recognize. Either he was a brand new Touched, or (far more likely) a transfer from one of Ten Towers¡¯ organizations in another city. Or maybe a recent graduate from a Minority program somewhere else? Either way, yeah, he was clearly Touched, considering the dark green, metallic armor he wore along with a helmet with a black visor. In one hand the man held what looked like a billy club that was the same color as his armor.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Janus were the ones assaulting that vault. They were accompanied by more of their troops, but really, they were the biggest threat. They had already used one massive hand to smack several of the security guards hard enough into the wall that they wouldn¡¯t be getting up again anytime soon. And their other hand, grown to the size of a small car, slammed down against the floor right where Skip had been a second earlier. If she had been an instant slower in teleporting a few feet away, she would¡¯ve been squished.


    The Prevs tried to open fire on her just as she appeared in that new spot. Not that it would have done much, but maybe they hoped she was too distracted to skip the effect. Either way, they didn¡¯t get a chance to shoot. That guy I didn¡¯t recognize extended his billy club. He was still a good fifteen feet away from them, but the weapon extended that far. What¡¯s more, it sliced right through the guns to cut them in half. Yeah, the club looked like a blunt instrument without a single edge on it, and yet it still cut through the very metallic guns as if they were made of butter. I was confused, but now really wasn¡¯t the time to think about it. We had to help them, as well as everyone else in there. Caishen¡¯s people were doing their best to hold off the assault, but something told me that wouldn¡¯t last forever. Especially with Theory clearly about to give Praxis what had to be one doozy of a power considering how long it looked like he had been ¡®planning.¡¯


    ¡°We¡¯ve gotta help them,¡± Alloy whispered. Obviously, with the fighting that was going on in there, we could have screamed at the top of her lungs, and probably not revealed ourselves, but it wasn¡¯t worth the risk.


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°Right, but we need a plan first. Can we contain Theory somehow?¡± Even as the words came out of my mouth, I was grimacing before answering my own question. ¡°No, because he can just shift over to Praxis. Even without counting any powers he could give her, they can appear in different places. If we trap Theory in one of your marble boxes, he¡¯ll just make Praxis appear outside it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how we can trap them,¡± Alloy admitted, ¡°but I do have another idea for you.¡± She made part of her armor slide out of the way so she could dig into her pocket before coming out with a handful of coins.


    ¡°Uh, loose change?¡± I blinked at that. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m not sure how that¡¯s supposed to help.¡±


    So, she told me. And it was a pretty good idea. I was still taking that in, holding the coins she had handed me before a sudden, unexpected new voice spoke up from just over our heads. ¡°Hi!¡± It was still a whisper, but a happy one.


    Yeah, we jerked in surprise. Falling onto my butt, I looked that way to see none other than Lightning Bug. She was hovering upside down with her wings right there in the elevator shaft above us, staring down with those large, bright blue compound eyes.


    ¡°Bug?!¡± I found myself blurting, staring that way. ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡±


    Landing next to us, the tiny red-skinned girl hurriedly replied, ¡°I was with my mama when the bad guys broke in, so she told me to hide. Well, she told me to get away, but I hid in here instead. Then you guys came. Are you gonna help Mama and Aunt Skip?¡± She sounded hopeful, looking back and forth between us eagerly.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s why we¡¯re here,¡± I confirmed. ¡°But you should still stay here with Trevithick. You guys keep an eye on what¡¯s going on with her bee-drone.¡±


    ¡°Bee drone?¡± Bug was suddenly interested. ¡°Like Kenobee? He¡¯s locked up in a safety vault with my other friends.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll show you later,¡± I promised. ¡°But here, sit down right next to Trevithick where it¡¯s safe. Alloy and me¡¯ll go out there and help your mom and the others.¡± Even as I said that, my eyes were glancing toward the screen itself to check on what was going on. Everything was pretty much the same, as they continued to fight to a standstill. But Theory still hadn¡¯t brought out Praxis. And the longer that took, the more worried I was about what sort of powers she was going to appear with. We had to get in there and help deal with these guys before this whole thing escalated completely out of control.


    Unfortunately, we still had no idea how to lock Theory and Praxis down, but hopefully if we helped deal with the others, something would present itself. There was no more time to talk about it or plan. Not if we didn¡¯t want to be fighting these guys all by ourselves after they beat the Ten Towers people.


    If. If they beat the Ten Towers people, of course. But that wasn¡¯t worth the risk. Better to assume the worst would happen and jump in now.


    ¡°Mr. Ball?¡± Lightning Bug spoke up hesitantly, raising a hand. ¡°I uh, I heard what you were saying about trapping the bad guy. And um, I think I can help you help Mama.¡±


    That made me blink a couple times at the tiny five-year-old. But what the hell? It wasn¡¯t as though we were drowning in ideas. With that in mind, I heard her out. She explained it in just a few seconds, and she was right, it could work. We were just going to have to be quick about it.


    So, I double-checked the paint we had to make sure we were covered before Alloy and I went on either side of the elevator doors. I painted them pink with black along the sides to keep it quiet. Then I added a shot of black to the battering ram the other girl created, just in case. We had to take these guys by surprise before they had any warning that we were there. The two of us looked at each other, nodded, then went for it. Alloy made her battering ram marble slam into the pink doors, knocking a hole through them, which the two of us dove through together.


    Even as we dove into the room, I activated the green wings on both of our backs to speed us up. At the same time, I reared back before hurling the handful of coins right at the assembled Prev troops who stood with their backs to us, focused entirely on the vaults. The coins were all painted a mix of blue and green, thanks to Alloy¡¯s suggestion. Just as they were being flung through the air, I focused on that paint and activated it at the very instant that the coins started hitting the bad guys. Sure enough, the coins did their jobs, sending the armed Prev troops flying. Two of them were flung to the ground by the force of the blue painted coins hitting their backs, one was hurled sideways into the desk, three more went forward a dozen feet before crashing to the ground, and so on. The green paint fed into the blue made them expend their entire charge in that single second, making it strong enough to throw these guys around just by being hit by a few coins.


    It was fun, to say the least. And something I was going to have to play around with later. But for now, my eyes were laser-focused on Theory. He had noticed us by that point, even as Alloy went flying past me on her marble-board to slam into Devil¡¯s Due with enough force that he wouldn¡¯t be trying to say anything anytime soon. And just in case that wasn¡¯t enough, as he was falling, she slapped a band-aid against the back of his neck. A band-aid that I had painted black and would activate the instant it looked like he was going to try to say anything.


    In that same instant, Theory disappeared, replaced by Praxis. She stood there with a raised hand pointed my way. Of course I had no intention of waiting around to see what she could do now, so I used blue paint on my shoes to fling myself upward just as a blast of some sort of laser erupted from her extended hand and tore a hole through the nearby wall. These guys weren¡¯t playing around. Considering how easily that laser punched through the vault wall, it easily could¡¯ve killed me. But I didn¡¯t have time to panic about that. Instead, I hit the woman with red paint, just a quick little shot. She, in turn, sent a second powerful laser beam into the air from her other hand. The beams weren¡¯t ending either. They were a continuous blast, cutting through the walls all around me. She was trying to pen me in, trap me between both beams. Fortunately, I had already managed to hit her with the red paint. Which was phase one of the plan. Phase two came a second later, as I dropped back toward the ground while holding up what looked like a tiny metallic badge just a couple inches across. It already had red paint on it, which I activated to send the thing flying toward the red paint on Praxis¡¯s shoulder.


    The woman was so focused on lasering me to death, she didn¡¯t notice the thing until it smacked into her. And by then, it was too late. For her, anyway. Her eyes looked down in confusion at the badge (it said Ten Towers VIB, for Very Important Bug, on the front) while she brought the twin laser beams from each hand closer and closer to my falling form.


    I could feel the laser beams practically cooking me in my costume, closing in from either side. Just as I hit the floor, however, the beams vanished. As did Praxis herself. That was Lightning Bug¡¯s idea. She had that badge which, when activated, would teleport the person who was wearing it (supposedly Bug herself) to any of a dozen safe locations, including outside of the city. It was a single-use sort of thing, only for dire emergencies. Her mother intended for her to use it to get out of the building, but she hid in the elevator shaft instead.


    All of which meant that Praxis was transported away from the building, to the parking lot of a Ten Towers facility in Grand Rapids, which was over a hundred and fifty miles away. That would keep her from getting back here anytime soon, and effectively removed both her and Theory as a threat.


    Unfortunately, Lightning Bug didn¡¯t have any more badges like that. It was rare and incredibly expensive. Another thing for Ten Towers to add to my tab. Which meant that we were going to have to help Caishen and her people deal with the rest of these guys the hard way.


    And judging from the pissed off looks I was getting at that moment, as the Trendscendents realized what I had just done, the hard way was about to be very violent.

 Center Of Attention 26-12

    A handful of the bad guy troops opened fire on the spot where I was, or rather, where I had been. I was already flinging myself into a backwards leap, assisted by my blue paint to get the hell out of that spot. An instant later, a lightning blast went flying through the air, as Juice very clearly targeted the spot he thought I was going to be in. But I had thrown myself backwards rather than straight up, anticipating something like that.


    Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have time to follow up with that, because Caishen had recovered from her own surprise, and lashed out with a punch at his back. She must have used her power to magnify the ¡®value¡¯ of that blow, because even with his incredible strength, it still knocked him down. The man caught himself on his hands and knees before his leg snapped out into a kick. Caishen managed to pivot out of the way just as Ephemera produced a shotgun and unloaded both barrels into the man¡¯s face. I had no idea what the thing was loaded with, but it was enough to make his head snap back with a bellow of pain.


    Leaving them to that, I activated a series of green interlocked circles on myself and Alloy, as both of us went sprinting toward Janus together. On the way, I saw Devil¡¯s Due trying to pick himself up, so I activated the black-painted band-aid on his neck just to make sure he couldn¡¯t fuck us over any time soon. Then I took a quick glance over my shoulder at an area behind us to judge my aim before sending a shot of red that way. That done, I gave a sharp whistle toward Janus themselves ahead of me. ¡°Hey I¡¯m pretty sure if you wanted a job here, you could¡¯ve just dropped off an application! Or two? Whatever, the enthusiasm is good but coming in with all your friends for moral support is just gonna make you look immature and needy. It does not look good to a hiring manager.¡±


    They took the bait. An instant later, there was a fist the size of my entire bed flying at both of us. Alloy went high, having her marble suit lift her into the air, while I dove into a low slide as though I was heading for homebase. On the way, I hit the massive fist with two shots of paint. One was green and the other red, with the former fed into the latter for speed. I activated all of them, including the red paint I had sent over my shoulder a few seconds earlier. Janus was taken by surprise as their fist flew much faster than they expected, stopping them from adjusting their aim as I went sliding under the extended limb. ¡°Hey, hey,¡± I shouted, ¡°I know you need support, but no hugs!¡±


    Meanwhile, their fist was pulled by the red paint, extending outward faster than they could recover and stop themselves until it slammed into the backs of Two-Step and Last Word. Both men were knocked to the floor. Not down and out, unfortunately, since the former had managed to notice the incoming fist soon enough to throw up one of his ghost-like copies to absorb some of the impact, and the latter was using some sort of power that enhanced his strength. Still, they were down for the moment. More importantly, Alloy and I weren¡¯t. That was always a positive thing.


    Of course, Janus still had an arm that wasn¡¯t being extended out clear across the room. Which they unfortunately realized in that moment and lashed out with it at Alloy and me. At the last second, I managed to activate the orange shield pictures I¡¯d painted across both of our backs. But we still took that suddenly-massive arm head-on, knocking the other girl out of the air before we both went tumbling across the floor together.


    Grabbing my partner, I rolled myself on top of her before slumping down with a pained, incredibly dazed and barely coherent, ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ can¡¯t¡­¡±


    I could almost see the smirk on Mister Harmful¡¯s face as he brought his sedan-sized fist down toward us, attempting to squash Alloy and me like a couple bugs. His fist hit us¡­ and then bounced off as Janus recoiled from the force of the blow that had just hit them. Or rather, that they had just hit themselves with. When I rolled on top of Alloy, I had activated a second set of orange paint, this one mixed with blue. Not only was I protected from the worst of the damage (though it still felt like getting slugged in the back so definitely not fun), but a portion of that damage was reflected back onto its source. Janus, in this case. They staggered with a surprised and clearly confused yelp, before abruptly cursing several more times in quick succession as a series of zapping sounds filled the air, like insects repeatedly hitting one of those bug killing electrical light things.


    Yeah, that definitely wasn¡¯t me, and I was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t Alloy either. Both of us rolled away from each other, looking up in time to see Skip holding some sort of fancy-looking baton. She kept appearing all around Janus, taking advantage of the opening we¡¯d given her to repeatedly hit them with that weapon. With each blow, a jolt of electricity was sent into the men, apparently strong enough to hurt even them. They kept trying to grab her, but she was constantly disappearing and reappearing in a different spot. It looked like she had run in a circle around the joined men and was now simply ¡®skipping¡¯ back and forth through that circle, wherever their hands weren¡¯t. Every time their limbs started to grow, she smacked them with that baton and interrupted their focus. And yeah, they were clearly getting pretty pissed off about that.


    Finally, the men both let out a pair of enraged screams, and suddenly grew much fatter. That was the only way I could describe it. Their torso became three or four times as wide as it had been. I¡¯d had no idea they could even do that. I thought they were limited to increasing the size of their limbs. But either way, it was enough to catch Skip and knock her to the floor. While she was briefly dazed, they stomped down toward her. But Alloy was faster, having already sent one of her marbles that way, transforming it into a stretcher-shape just in time to scoop the other girl up and pull her aside before the foot slammed down into that spot.


    Alloy and I managed to jump to our feet, even as the marble stretcher dropped Skip off right beside us. By that point, the massive form of Janus had turned to face our direction, bringing both hands up. But even as we started to brace ourselves, another voice filled the air. ¡°It¡¯s scrubbed, go!¡± The voice came from that second vault, where the mostly-naked red metallic skinned T-1000 woman was. But it wasn¡¯t coming from her. Or rather, it was, but not from her mouth and not in her voice. A new face, one that looked an awful lot like Theory if he was made of red metal, had appeared on her stomach. Which absolutely was weird as fuck. As was the fact that he was speaking through that face. It was his voice and his orders, somehow projected onto a re-creation of his face on her own metal skin? Yeah, I was both horrified and confused.


    But whatever that whole thing was, it made all the bad guys in the room immediately stop fighting. Instead, they abandoned their opponents, including Janus, both of whom took turns giving Skip, Alloy, and me one last glare before they took off at a quick run. Before the rest of us could react, another surprising thing happened. Namely, that metal chick jumped up, bounced off Two-Step¡¯s raised and cupped hands, then off the hands of his ghostly duplicate who appeared in the air slightly above him, before flipping over in the air to dive right toward the floor, like she was going into a pool of water. But instead, she became the pool. As her body impacted, it spread out into a fifteen-foot-wide liquid metal thing.


    Then it got even weirder, as all the bad guys proceeded to jump into her. They jumped into that metal¡­ puddle, vanishing from sight. I was honestly so surprised by what we were seeing that it took me a moment to even realize that we should probably be trying to stop them. And I was pretty sure the others were in the same boat. By the time we all started moving, there was no one left aside from Juice. And he proceeded to unleash a massive blast of lightning throughout the room. It wasn¡¯t targeting anybody, it was just meant to slow us down, essentially a dome of electricity that made most of us hit the dirt. Then he jumped into the metal puddle, leaving the transformed woman alone. Except not, because the second he was through, the puddle seeped into the floor and vanished. They were¡­ gone?


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Holy shit, did we win?¡± Alloy, standing beside me, managed.


    ¡°Not completely.¡± That was Linesight, shaking his head as he emerged from the vault where they had been fighting. ¡°Several of their people managed to grab a few of our secure cases from a couple of our vaults. That¡¯s why they brought the big guns in here, to force us to focus our response on their Touched while the Prev troops grabbed whatever they could.¡±


    Ephemera, currently in the form of a male who appeared to be in his early twenties, insisted, ¡°Dude, it would¡¯ve been a hell of a lot worse without these guys.¡± They gestured toward Alloy and me. ¡°Getting rid of Praxis before she could do much damage with those laser-hands? That was pretty dope.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Caishen agreed. ¡°Forcing those two to waste their time with that power. Even if they had come up with a way to return, it would require abandoning the power they had just created, finding a new one that would work, and then arriving back here while only having a short time left with the transportation gift before they would be forced to switch back into Theory so he could craft a new power for his partner.¡±


    ¡°And while they did that, they¡¯d be vulnerable in here again,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s basically what we were thinking. Or rather¡­¡± Wincing just a little, I amended, ¡°what your daughter thought?¡±


    ¡°Hi, Mama!¡± Sure enough, that was Lightning Bug herself. She and Trevithick emerged together from the elevator shaft and waved while everyone looked that way. Caishen gave a startled gasp, staring at her daughter in surprise for a moment before quickly moving that way. She scooped the girl off the ground, blurting, ¡°That was your escape teleport badge! Why are you still here? I told you to get out of the building, Bug.¡±


    Clinging to her mother, the little girl shook her head. ¡°I couldna just leave you! They were bad guys. What if you needed help?¡±


    For a moment, it looked like Caishen was going to say something about that. But in the end, she just exhaled. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about this later, and I promise it¡¯s going to be a long one.¡± Holding her daughter close, she turned to the rest of her people. ¡°Do an assessment, find out what they got away with. And get our internal communications back up so we can call security to do a full sweep of the building to make sure they¡¯re all either gone or secure. Bring medical down for whoever needs it.¡± Her gaze turned to us then before she nodded to the elevator. ¡°Let¡¯s go talk while I check in with my people.¡±


    Skip accompanied us as well, as we all went that way. The elevator arrived a moment later, clearly summoned by Caishen somehow. A control on her costume maybe? Whatever it was, Alloy, Trevithick, Caishen with Lightning Bug in her arms, Skip, and I filed onto the thing.


    As the doors shut behind us, Caishen turned our way. ¡°First things first. You¡¯re the Tech-Touched who¡¯s been helping Paintball here. I saw you in the footage from that zombie fight. Trevithick, right? After the inventor of the steam locomotive.¡±


    Clearly surprised that the woman recognized the reference, Wren gaped at her for a second before giving a hurried nod. ¡°Uh huh, uh huh! Practically nobody ever knows who that is!¡±


    ¡°I get paid to know things,¡± Caishen informed her, sounding more than a little tired. Which was fair, considering everything that had just been going on. Then she turned her attention to me. ¡°Second of all, thank you--all of you--for your help back there.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t stop them completely,¡± Alloy muttered darkly, folding her arms over her chest while giving a heavy sigh. ¡°They still got away with important stuff from your vaults.¡±


    ¡°Far less than they would have,¡± Skip, her even tone betraying no more emotion (good or bad) than ever, noted. ¡°And with less damage being done to our people.¡±


    Caishen nodded. ¡°My sister is absolutely correct. If you hadn¡¯t shown up when you did, and managed to remove one of their biggest threats from the fight, I¡¯m afraid they would have been able to escape with far more than they actually managed. This might not have been a complete failure for them, but nor was it the level of success they were looking for, especially considering how much effort they put into it. Besides, something tells me that your group is the reason we were given any warning about the invasion at all. So we owe you a debt of gratitude for that as well. Which, I suppose, helps make up for the fact that you did not insist that my daughter use her escape badge while she had the chance.¡±


    Wincing a little, I offered a weak, ¡°I mean, if it helps, they were supposed to fly up the elevator shaft and hide as high as they could. It umm, it wasn¡¯t as good as teleporting out of the building, but when she said it could work to get Praxis out of there¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry that we didn¡¯t just make her teleport out of here. It was--it was the heat of the moment, I saw an opportunity to get one of the biggest threats out of there, and I thought she¡¯d be safe in the elevator shaft since we were gonna be dealing with the bad guys anyway. But something still could¡¯ve happened. She still could¡¯ve been hurt, and if she was, that¡­ that would¡¯ve been on me.¡±


    ¡°On us,¡± Alloy put in quickly. ¡°We both made the call. We--we¡¯re sorry.¡±


    ¡°Hey.¡± Caishen shook her head, considering her next words briefly while the elevator doors opened to reveal a bunch of Ten Towers people running around. One approached, but she held her hand up to stop him, addressing us a bit more. ¡°I understand why you made the decision you did. I just needed to be certain that you understood the possible ramifications and that you didn¡¯t make it lightly. Whether it was my daughter, or any other vulnerable person, what matters in that sort of situation is making certain they¡¯re all as safe as possible. You did what you could and you made what you believed to be the best decision in the moment. Thank you again for everything you did. I know it¡¯s not always easy to make perfect decisions every time, believe me. You¡¯re still learning, and you¡¯re doing the best you can. In my book, for the record, you¡¯re doing pretty well.¡±


    Having said all that, she paused briefly before adding, ¡°But if anything had happened to my daughter, we would be having a very different conversation right now. Just keep that in mind.¡±


    We promised we would, and then she checked in with her people. While the woman was doing that, I grabbed my phone to do the same with ours. Paige picked up on the first ring. ¡°The courthouse is all good,¡± she immediately announced. ¡°The Stars and cops managed to breach the place and deal with everyone we didn¡¯t. What¡¯s going on with you?¡±


    ¡°They all retreated,¡± I explained. ¡°We can get into the details later. What about Fogwalker?¡±


    ¡°He bounced,¡± the other girl informed me. ¡°But we caught a few of their people. Maybe the Stars will be able to get some answers out of them. Like the location of their base.¡± Even as she said that, the girl¡¯s tone made it clear she didn¡¯t believe it. Of course not, the Ministry wouldn¡¯t let something like that happen to a group they had only just allowed to come into their city. How would they ever make all the money they needed in that case?


    ¡°Here¡¯s hoping,¡± I agreed. ¡°Can you guys get up to the judge¡¯s office so Trevithick can let you through to join us over here? I mean, I don¡¯t know how hard it¡¯s going to be to slip past the--¡±


    The other girl interrupted me with a chuckle. ¡°Look up.¡±


    Blinking in confusion, I tilted my head that way, only to see Poise, Style, Calvin, and Hobbes leaning over the railing of one of the open balcony areas that overlooked this lobby area from several floors above us, waving down. Paige spoke into the phone she was holding. ¡°Once we knew there was a door there, it wasn¡¯t hard to get it open. We were going to help, but it sounds like you¡¯ve got everything under control here.¡±


    ¡°Oh you know, we¡¯re doing our best,¡± I replied with a vague gesture. ¡°Come on down, join the party.¡±


    By that point, Caishen had come back. She looked up to see where the rest of us were staring, before shaking her head. ¡°Clearly, we need to do something about Switchshift¡¯s door. And several other things. But yes, do please bring your full team together. We owe all of you a great deal of gratitude for your help. And yet, I¡¯m very sorry to say, the form that gratitude is going to take at the moment is a series of meetings for you to explain everything you know. Very long, excruciatingly boring meetings.¡±


    ¡°I knew it,¡± I managed to get out while Alloy groaned beside me. ¡°You really are pissed about Bug¡¯s teleportation badge.


    ¡°We should¡¯ve let Mister Harmful smash us.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-13

    Caishen wasn¡¯t kidding about those meetings, or how boring they were. Once our whole team was brought together, we ended up getting debriefed by her, as well as their entire security leadership, several high-ranking police officers, my father (as Silversmith of course), and more. They all had a bunch of questions for us, often ones we had already answered. We told them everything we could about what had happened, why we made the choices we did, and even how we had ended up bringing weapons into the courthouse. I made it clear that we had only brought the guns through once the fighting started. I left it fairly vague when it came to exactly how that worked, simply saying that we had a way to transfer equipment from one place to another. They accepted that well enough, probably because we had proven to be so useful. But still, there were a lot of questions.


    In between all those, I managed to get some answers of my own. They had not managed to arrest Banneret, even though we¡¯d left her perfectly trussed up for them. All they had found in that room was a puddle of goo where Wren¡¯s prototype had been. I wasn¡¯t exactly surprised by that news, but nor did I believe she escaped on her own. Given the situation, and the fact that the Ministry was clearly a big part of this, I had a very strong suspicion that she had help from the first responders when it came to getting out of there.


    Nor had Fogwalker been caught. Though in his case, the TONI had escaped the building before the authorities breached. He left in the middle of the fight against Paige and the other three, apparently deciding discretion was the better part of valor once it became clear that Poise and Style were still quite dangerous even within his darkness. I still had no idea whether people thought the two of them were simply incredibly well-trained people with technology help, or some sort of Touched in their own right. Something told me I should take a look at the SPHERE forum and see what everyone was saying. But that could come later.


    So basically, despite everything we¡¯d done, all the important people, the Fell-Touched, had managed to escape. I felt a little let down by that, not helped by the fact that they had managed to take some of the equipment from that vault after all. Telling myself that they would''ve gotten away with a hell of a lot more helped a little bit, but not that much. It seemed like we should have been able to do more. Or maybe I just felt guilty about the fact that my family had clearly helped put this whole thing together. Which was unhelped by the presence of my father as he went through all those questions with us.


    One thing we managed to do was free Trevithick from all this questioning. Or rather, Caishen did. She sent the girl off with her own daughter so she could meet Lightning Bugs¡¯ not-so-little friends, who had apparently been locked up in one of the other rooms when the invasion happened. So at least Wren didn¡¯t have to sit in that stuffy Ten Towers room going through more than an hour of questioning. I almost envied her for that.


    We also managed to establish that San Francisco and his parents had been found safe. They were locked up in the basement of their home, having been threatened, but not severely injured. I felt a wave of relief wash over me at that. Sure, San could be a little exhausting with his constant thoughts of romance and who belonged with who and all that, but he was still my friend. I didn¡¯t want to think about anything happening to his family.


    None of us outright asked if they had seen Pack, Broadway, and those others they had been with in the courthouse. Maybe we should have, considering they were bad guys who had clearly broken into that place for possibly nefarious things. But I still felt like we owed the girl for all her help, and given we didn¡¯t know why they were there or who she had been working with¡­ yeah. There was a fair chance they were just there to steal some stuff and blame it on the Trendscendants. I was going to have to talk to her and see what I could find out, and hopefully not come to regret not telling the authorities.


    Finally, they were done with us. We met up with Wren again, as she finished saying goodbye to her new friend and promised to visit later. Lightning Bug seemed excited by that possibility, as did all of her assorted partners. I had a feeling we would be coming back here for a field trip soon enough.


    But, that, like so many things, would come later. For the moment, the seven of us made our way out of the building through one of the back doors, escorted by Skip since her sister was still busy dealing with all of that. She thanked us again, and then held out a card. ¡°For your services.¡±


    Blinking, I leaned closer to stare at the thing. It was one of those prepaid debit cards. ¡°Uh, that¡¯s really not--¡±


    Sierra¡¯s hand snapped out to take it before I could finish that sentence. ¡°Thanks so much. We appreciate the recognition and wouldn''t want to be rude by refusing.¡± She said that with a glance toward me.


    Skip, for her part, simply gave a short nod. If she had any thoughts or reactions to that exchange, it didn''t show. Not that that meant anything, of course. Instead of commenting, she simply replied, ¡°I¡¯m glad you were in a position to lend aid. I hope to return the favor some time.¡±


    Before I could point out that she¡¯d already been plenty of help in the past, especially when it came to getting me out of that situation with the Scions, the girl was gone. She vanished, clearly teleporting back into the building to help her sister.


    Which left us standing in an alley on the far southern side of the Ten Towers Plaza. It felt weird, like we should have been doing something else, or like there should have been more to that whole debriefing. After everything that had happened, we¡¯d talked to the authorities for just over an hour, and now we were done. We were just¡­ standing out here in the shadows between a couple buildings. It was sort of surreal, I supposed. It just felt like there should be more to all that, something bigger for us to do than simply walk out and be on our own again.


    Shaking off that feeling, I turned to the others. ¡°Okay, well, I don''t know about you guys, but I am starving. How about we go back to the shop and order something to eat?¡±


    Murphy''s head bobbed up and down rapidly. ¡°Hell yeah,¡± she agreed, ¡°I could eat a whole cow. Preferably cooked, but at this point, I''m not really that picky, to be honest.¡±


    ¡°We should use this thing,¡± Sierra put in, holding up the card she had accepted from Skip. ¡°I think Ten Towers owes us a meal, assuming they put enough on it to cover that. We should probably check.¡±


    So I did, by calling the number on the back and putting the code into the automated system. And boy did they ever put plenty for more than one meal, to say the least. The card was loaded with ten thousand dollars. So apparently the Towers people were more than a little grateful for what we had done. When I told the others, I thought a few of them were going to faint.


    ¡°What the hell are we supposed to do with all that?¡± Peyton demanded.


    ¡°We¡¯ll put most of it into the shop,¡± I announced. ¡°Wren deserves to buy some good stuff, and it''ll help all of us in the future, especially since we wouldn''t have gotten this far without that little drone of hers.¡± As I said that, my hand reached out to ruffle the top of her head, while she ducked away with a noise of embarrassment. Then I focused on Murphy, Roald, and Peyton. ¡°But we also wouldn''t have gotten anywhere without you guys. So I think it''s fair if you all get a bonus too. Let me get some cash to match what''s on here and I''ll make sure you each get like, what, a thousand dollars to do whatever you want with? That sound fair?¡±


    Once again, I thought the three of them were going to pass out. They seemed a bit overwhelmed, but they had definitely earned the cash. And probably a hell of a lot more than that. With that in mind, I led the way out of the alley and to the van Fred had just pulled up in. None of us had enough energy to take the long way back to the shop, so we¡¯d simply told the man where to meet us ahead of time. As he opened the doors, we all piled in and practically fell over in the back. Except for Paige and Sierra, who seemed fine. They both went in the front with Fred, talking to him about everything that happened while the rest of us lay in the back and tried to relax through the drive.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Soon enough, we were at the shop and I had to put the call in for food delivery. We were going to have Chinese. A lot of Chinese. But I didn¡¯t use the card for it, despite Sierra¡¯s suggestion. I was pretty sure the money on it wasn¡¯t a trap, and yet it still felt dangerous to use it and have food delivered right to the store. Instead, I used my own money. Later, I¡¯d use the card to withdraw cash somewhere far away from this place and hand it out to everyone. That was just safer than giving anyone connected to this card a direct link to Wren¡¯s shop.


    And, of course, I made sure there wasn¡¯t a tracking bug on the card itself. At least, as sure as I could be with Wren¡¯s help. Was I being overly-paranoid when it came to Ten Towers? Maybe, but better safe than sorry. Because if it went wrong, we¡¯d be very sorry.


    Either way, when we did get our food delivered, it was a veritable feast, one I could enjoy even more considering I was able to take the helmet and mask off in front of these guys and eat normally. We laid the whole thing out on one of the long tables in Wren¡¯s lab upstairs and really went to town on it. Even Fred seemed famished, probably because he had spent the past couple hours freaking out here at the store, waiting to hear what happened. We basically put away enough to satisfy a small army.


    And we didn''t only eat. We also talked a fair bit. Once we''d put away just enough food that it didn''t feel like our stomachs were about to devour us from the inside. We talked about everything that had happened back there. Sure, we had just gone through an hour of meetings about the whole situation, but this was different. We were recounting everything to each other, laughing, teasing, praising, exaggerating, just¡­ having a good time. We had all happened to be in the right place at the right time to help out, and even if the bad guys still got away with some of what they had been after, it would''ve been worse if we weren''t there. I was able to put aside my own feeling of guilt enough to accept that, especially when it came to making sure the others knew how awesome they were. I didn''t want them to feel like they hadn''t done enough the way a small part of me still did. And no, telling myself that if they had done enough then I clearly had as well didn¡¯t entirely help. Feelings were weird and stupid like that.


    Fred wanted to hear about everything too, obviously. He sat there, listening in with often worried fascination as we went through the whole thing for him. Staring at me by the end, he demanded, ¡°How do you keep running into all that danger? You went to a courthouse, a courthouse, and managed to interrupt something like that. Before that, you were at a silly skating exhibition, and we all know what happened there.¡±


    Flushing a little visibly, I offered a helpless shrug. ¡°Trust me, if I knew, I''d plan for it a bit better. And I definitely wouldn¡¯t have brought Wren along.¡±


    ¡°I helped!¡± the girl in question insisted.


    ¡°You did,¡± I agreed. ¡°Believe me, we would¡¯ve been completely screwed without your drone. We all know that. But still, I just--¡± Hesitating, I finally shook my head. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯d plan for things better if I knew how they kept happening. but seriously, I''m glad you were all there." Biting my lip, I looked down at my mostly finished plate, thinking for a moment before closing up again. ¡°You¡¯re my friends. I''d be lost without you. Not just today, but with all of it, all of this.¡± My eyes even found their way to Paige, the girl I had such a complicated history with. ¡°I''m glad you¡¯re here.¡±


    She met my gaze for a moment, a series of complicated emotions seeming to pass over her face. Then she gave a short nod. ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± the girl announced. ¡°And I hope you still feel that way tomorrow, because I¡¯m gonna need a pretty big distraction while we wait for Irelyn¡¯s plane to land. So all of you better be ready for some pretty intense training.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think what happened today is gonna make me take it easy on you.¡±


    ******


    School the next day was¡­ well, interesting. San had come despite his family saying he could stay home, and had a lot to say to everyone when it came to his house being invaded by the Trendscendants. He, like a lot of people, had started calling them Trendies, probably because the name itself was already ridiculous and calling them that helped make what his family had gone through not quite so terrifying. I could tell it really affected him, even though he did his best to play it off as no big deal.


    I also took the time to tell Amber everything that happened from our point of view, just as I had Izzy the night before. She¡¯d heard a lot of it third-hand, and had some stuff to say about being on the outside waiting to go in, but her group really hadn¡¯t seen much action. Pretty much the only bad guys they managed to find once they breached the building were already dealt with by our group, so her whole thing had been a lot of waiting around followed by walking through a building to find unconscious or tied-up people.


    She was definitely interested when I told her about Pack and Broadway being in that place, though Amber didn¡¯t have any better answers than I did about whether not telling the authorities was a mistake. If anything, she seemed even more uncertain about all that than I was.


    Even through all that, the other girl had seemed distracted. I asked her what was up and she just said there were some personal things she was dealing with. But it didn''t seem bad. To tell the truth, she was kind of giddy and silly. Part of me was confused about that until I saw her with Dani later that day. They were in the middle of an intense conversation at the back of the library, their fingers interlaced as they sat together on one of the couches.


    Oh, so that was what was going on. Well, good for her, though I wasn''t sure how that whole thing with Pack was going to go now that she was involved with Dani. Either way, it wasn¡¯t any of my business. That was all up to her.


    Finally, school was over, so I took an Uber close to the shop before walking the rest of the way. It was about three when I got there, and according to the news, the plane carrying Trivial and Flea (and the ¡®anonymous woman they had gone to save¡¯) would be landing around six pm. We couldn¡¯t actually be at the airport, of course. It was a private field north of the city, and that whole place was completely locked down. They were allowing certain reporters in to broadcast the arrival, but that was it. There was no way we could get near it. So Paige was just going to meet her sister back at the Banners¡¯ house, which only served to remind me that we still had no idea where they were. Granted, them being on Breakwater too wasn¡¯t completely out of the question, but something told me they weren¡¯t.


    Paige wasn¡¯t kidding about that training thing, either. Throughout the entire time we were waiting for the news to announce the plane¡¯s arrival, she put us through our paces. First in the virtual reality system, but also over an hour of real-world exercise. She and Sierra were both pretty intense through that whole thing.


    Finally, Fred called out for us to come watch the television. So we gathered in front of it, all of us sweating and panting aside from, of course, the two biolems. That didn''t stop the broad smile that came as I saw the footage of the plane landing and taxiing to a stop. A minute later, the hatch opened, and the stairs were wheeled up to it, allowing three figures to emerge. Two were immediately recognizable as Trivial and Flea, while the other was a woman wearing a heavy coat and ski mask to protect her identity. Part of me wondered whether they had Irelyn dressed up as Flea or the anonymous woman at this point. Probably the former, in case anyone wanted to see her powers or compared old footage to this in order to figure out if they were faking her return.


    Whatever the answer, she was there. Dozens of reporters were shouting questions from the tarmac while the three descended the steps and waved to show that they were okay.


    Smiling broadly at the sight, I patted Paige on the back. ¡°I guess you¡¯ll be heading back to the house to meet her, huh?¡±


    ¡°I uhh¡­ I want you to be there too,¡± she informed me, seeming a bit awkward. ¡°I mean, as yourself, not Paintball. I thought¡­¡± She rubbed the back of her neck. ¡°I thought maybe we could pretend we¡¯ve gotten over our issues or something. You know, so Sierra can be around the house too sometimes while Irelyn¡¯s there.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I blinked once. ¡°I mean, yeah, sure. We wouldn¡¯t be pretending, but I guess we would be pretending that it just happened or how it--never mind, that¡¯s all complicated. Sure, yeah, if you really want me to be there when she gets home¡­ I mean¡­ yeah.¡± I was making it even more awkward. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± She offered me a brief smile before blushing as she looked away with a cough. ¡°We should uhh, get dinner set up. I¡¯m pretty sure Irelyn will be hungry whenever they finally get done with her.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Peyton teased. ¡°After all that training, you get to have Paige make you a meal at her nice cushy house, and what do the rest of us get?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m staying here,¡± Sierra informed her. ¡°Can¡¯t have Irelyn see me looking like this, after all. Worse, I¡¯ve still got plenty of energy and nothing to do with it. So what do you all get?¡±


    Peyton, Murphy, Roald, Wren, and Fred all chorused the answer together with varying degrees of cheerfulness and/or exhaustion.


    ¡°More training!¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-14

    ¡°You know, I¡¯m starting to think something might be wrong with you.¡±


    Hearing me say that as the two of us stood on the roof of a building not too far from Wren¡¯s shop a few minutes later, Paige glanced at me. Her face was covered once more by the full combat helmet and visor she wore as Poise, just in case anyone happened to notice us out here. But I could still read the uncertainty in her body language, as well as hear it in her voice as she slowly echoed, ¡°Wrong with me?¡± A slight pause came then, before, ¡°There¡¯s so much you could be referring to.¡±


    Snorting once, I admitted, ¡°Yeah, okay, fair point. And you could turn that whole thing back around on me because we both know I¡¯m the kettle to your pot when it comes to something being wrong. But for the record, I meant because you¡¯re letting me get out of training back there.¡± My thumb gestured in the direction of the shop. ¡°They¡¯re gonna be working their butts off and you¡¯re just letting me waltz out of there without even so much as a pushup? You must be losing it.¡±


    I definitely saw her eyes roll through the white visor. ¡°Hilarious. But you¡¯re forgetting two things.¡±


    For a moment, I tried to think of what she was referring to. But I was still a bit distracted by thinking about what was going to happen when Irelyn made it to her family¡¯s place and we had to decide exactly how much to talk to her about. ¡°Okay, I give up. What am I forgetting?¡±


    Paige, in return, replied evenly, ¡°First, it¡¯s no fun if I¡¯m not there to make sure you¡¯re doing it right. And second, there¡¯s nothing saying I can¡¯t put you through training back at the house until Irelyn gets home. Something tells me she¡¯s going to be busy with the authorities for awhile.¡±


    Oh. Right, she had a point. We might not have Sierra and the others with us, but she could still put me through some personal training, just a one-on-one thing. Which, yeah, made me feel weird. Just the thought that I would be willingly going over to Paige Banners¡¯ house with her would have been utterly absurd not so long ago. Adding in the idea that I would be training with her to learn how to better protect myself from people who wanted to hurt me? I would have thought that anyone saying such a ridiculous thing was on drugs, or screwing with me.


    Yet, here I was. And as proof of how much everything had changed, I didn¡¯t feel complete revulsion and anger when I looked at Paige. Not only because I couldn¡¯t see her face. I knew that was her, and my insides did twist a bit. But it was more in¡­ confusion about the conflicting feelings that kept working their way through me. Some part of me desperately wished I could actually consciously remember the time when we had been friends as children. Maybe that would help entirely erase the feelings that came from how she had been forced to treat me these past few years. But even without actively having those memories, I could still feel something that I thought came from them, something that had been reawakened in this past short while. It was like I couldn¡¯t actively see my childhood memories, but still felt a little bit of their effects. Ghost feelings, or something.


    Either way, the idea that I would be spending time in Paige¡¯s house alone with her, working out and stuff while we both waited for Irelyn, made me blush deeply behind my mask and helmet. Firmly pushing that reaction aside as much as I could, I instead focused on replying, ¡°Well, in that case I guess we better get over there so we can do as much training as we can, huh? But uhh, do you mind if we take a little more time than we have to? I¡¯ve sort of got an idea that I¡¯ve been meaning to do but keep forgetting. And if you really think it¡¯ll take her awhile to get there¡­¡±


    Paige looked at me with what was obviously curious body language. ¡°I¡¯ve linked myself to a few of the cameras in the police precinct they took her to for debriefing, the exterior cameras of buildings near the Conservator base, and the ones for several city blocks around the Banners¡¯ house. I¡¯ll know when she leaves and when she¡¯s close to getting home. So what¡¯s your new idea? And if it¡¯s just ¡®avoid physical training,¡¯¡± she warned while raising a finger in what I interpreted to be a half-joking and half-serious threat.


    Playing up my reaction as though panicking, I held both hands out, head shaking quickly. ¡°Oh no, no, no. Absolutely not, I promise, no stalling over here. This is actually important. I think you¡¯ll like it too, trust me. Here.¡± Walking over to the edge of the roof, I pointed my hands down and began to paint a blue and green line along it, a few inches wide. I carefully fed the green into the blue, but didn¡¯t activate it. I was careful to make it look sort of like it could be a normal design on the edge of the roof as much as possible. It also wasn¡¯t a single continuous two-colored line. I included breaks every couple feet, an inch or so of space between the lines.


    Watching me do that, Paige was silent for a moment before straightening up as she realized. ¡°You¡¯re prepping for later, for an emergency.¡±


    ¡°Or any time I need to move quickly,¡± I confirmed before amending, ¡°any time all of us do, really.¡± While saying that, I leaned over the edge of the roof and shot several red circles into discreet locations that I would be able to use either from the ground or another roof if I knew they were there. ¡°I figure saving as much paint as possible in that sort of situation is probably a good thing. So if I paint the buildings around the store and work my way out through the city that way, adding a bit more whenever I get a chance¡­¡± My shoulders shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll have to keep checking on it to see if my paint wears off eventually and redo it, and maybe this whole thing will turn out to be pointless, but--¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s a good idea,¡± Paige interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re right, having as much paint as possible in an emergency is¡­ is good. Plus it¡¯ll help you move even faster if you don¡¯t have to focus on spraying, or¡­ shooting it out.¡±


    The two of us stood there awkwardly for a second, staring at each other as those weird feelings continued to make my stomach flip over. Finally, I coughed and turned. ¡°Can you use those cool cyber sensors or whatever to help me find some good spots to put some of this paint?¡±


    She agreed after a brief hesitation of her own, and we set out to do just that. For the next little while, the two of us worked our way in a circle around the spot where Wren¡¯s store was. Then we did so again, moving one building further out to prepare those ones. I took my time, since it required a fair bit of paint to prepare each of these things. At Paige¡¯s suggestion, I made most of the paint look like random graffiti so it wouldn¡¯t stand out that much, including using colors that probably wouldn¡¯t be useful on a wall like that so it looked more natural. I just hoped we wouldn¡¯t run into a situation where it was an emergency and I tried to activate the paint on a piece of graffiti, only to realize it was real and not my own stuff. That would be pretty embarrassing, and potentially dangerous. Which was probably why Paige announced that she was going to continually quiz me about which pieces were actually mine, so I¡¯d better memorize them.


    Honestly, focusing on all this helped a bit, since it meant I couldn¡¯t completely obsess over what was going on with Irelyn. And I was pretty sure Paige appreciated the distraction too, even if it probably wasn¡¯t as effective for her.


    Eventually, we did start making our way toward her place. Or the Banners¡¯ place, as she put it. Even now, it seemed like Paige didn¡¯t see that as her house. Maybe even especially now. On the way, I asked again if she had any inkling of where her adopted parents could be, and she again insisted she didn¡¯t have the slightest idea aside from the belief that Pittman had done something to them. From the way she said it, I was going to guess she didn¡¯t think it was anything good.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I also left a few paint bits on other buildings along the way, though not nearly as much as I had near the store. Eventually I would work my way out and add pieces of my own fake graffiti everywhere I thought it might be useful. Though come to think of it, was that ¡®fake graffiti¡¯ or just ¡®my graffiti?¡¯ I was still vandalizing places, even if it was for a good reason.


    Eh, whatever. The point was, with Paige¡¯s help I prepped more buildings for potential situations. Plus, while we were doing that, I came up with the idea of ¡®signing¡¯ the graffiti. Not with my own name, obviously. And not as Paintball. Instead, I signed them as Andy Garris. The initials AG, for Avant-Guard. It wasn¡¯t the hardest thing to see through, obviously. But that little stylized signature would remind me of which pieces were mine.


    Of course, Paige still insisted that I not sign all the ones around the shop. She rightfully pointed out that doing so could potentially lead bad guys right to our base. Which was already in enough danger considering Oscuro knew it had some connection to a Tech-Touched and Paintball. Part of me wondered how much of them leaving the place alone was out of fear of how prepared it would be by this point, and how much was because the Ministry told them to. Possibly because dealing with Tech-Touched was supposed to be Braintrust¡¯s job or whatever.


    And that just reminded me that Wren was still working on the thing Glitch had requested. I still wasn¡¯t sure agreeing to do that was a good idea. Actually, I was pretty sure it was a bad idea. But we really couldn¡¯t afford to have a big fight with those guys at this point. We already had more than enough to deal with. Nor was it a good idea to rock the boat where the Ministry was concerned. We needed to make it look like we were playing along as much as possible. Which, sadly, meant the best play we had was for Wren to make the device for them.


    Oh fantastic, I¡¯d managed to distract myself from one huge situation by obsessing over a different one. Which wasn¡¯t even anywhere near the complete list of problems and potential emergencies occupying the back of my mind. What even was my life, at this point?


    Eventually, Paige and I reached the area near the Banners¡¯ property. We both took a long time to make sure we weren¡¯t being followed or watched, and even then we went through the back forested area on the far side of the lot rather than going through the front. According to Paige, there were hidden cameras as well as motion sensors dotted throughout the trees so she would know if anyone was behind us, or followed our trail.


    Reaching the high stone wall after going through a half-mile of forest, I gave us a spot of blue paint to leap up and over it. And just like that, I was back on the Banners¡¯ property for the first time since that fateful night of Paige¡¯s birthday. In the distance, I could see the garage I had broken out of. The garage where I was supposed to wait for Paige to kill herself.


    Following my gaze, Paige seemed to flinch slightly before speaking quietly. ¡°A lot has happened since then, huh?¡± Her voice caught just a little bit as she was talking, like she was having emotions about the whole thing. ¡°Things are different now.¡±


    ¡°Different,¡± I agreed softly, swallowing hard as my own emotions played havoc with my brain. It felt like I should say more, but I had no idea what. In the end, I simply gestured to the house. ¡°We should head inside, right? You said something about getting dinner on before we do the training thing. And what about Irelyn? Where uhh, where is she now? Wait, have you figured out whether she¡¯s herself or Flea?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s Flea,¡± the other girl replied while walking across the grounds toward one of the mansion¡¯s side doors. ¡°The cops who were supposed to be debriefing ¡®Irelyn¡¯ were actually in on the whole thing. I mean, in on who Irelyn is. They work with the Conservators a lot and help cover some of their secret identities in an emergency. You know, like this.¡± She gestured for me to head into what turned out to be the main kitchen, then followed after. ¡°Silversmith and Brumal are talking to her and Trivial right now. I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re saying, can¡¯t get a connection inside the Conservator building without being too obvious. But they went in together. My guess is they¡¯ll be busy for at least another hour. Especially since they¡¯ll have to run through CHACE protocols again.¡±


    ¡°CHACE,¡± I echoed. ¡°That¡¯s uh, Clear Head And Clear Eyes? The system they go through to make sure someone hasn¡¯t been corrupted, controlled, brainwashed, shapeshifted, anything like that.¡±


    Her head bobbed absently while she started to take things out of cabinets and one of the three massive refrigerators lining one wall. ¡°That¡¯s it, yeah. They have a lot of different ways to check that sort of thing, but it¡¯ll take awhile. If I know anything about their system, and I do, they already ran both her and Trivial through them a few times before sending them back here. But the people here will do it again anyway.¡±


    ¡°How much have you, uhh, talked to Irelyn since she was rescued?¡± I hesitantly asked while glancing around the large kitchen. This whole place seemed hauntingly empty and quiet with no staff working here anymore. I had no idea how Paige and Sierra dealt with that. Nor did I know what Sierra was going to do if Irelyn chose to stay in the house with Paige after everything she¡¯d been through. For some reason, Paige didn¡¯t think that was likely.


    ¡°Not a lot,¡± she replied quietly, seeming pretty focused on measuring out water for a pot to put on the stove. ¡°Just enough to tell her I¡¯d be here when she gets back and that she should come over so we can talk.¡± The other girl paused then, and I heard her swallow with her back to me. ¡°I have no idea how that¡¯s going to go. So¡­ you know what, maybe this was a bad idea. You being here, I mean. She¡¯s gonna want to talk about what happened, and we don¡¯t want her knowing about your parents--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t we?¡± I found myself saying that without stopping to think too much. ¡°I mean, would her knowing the truth be a bad thing, honestly? We know she¡¯s not part of the Ministry. She can¡¯t be. So would it really be terrible to have someone like her know the truth so she could be on our side?¡±


    Before the other girl could respond to that, the phone in my pocket buzzed. It was Peyton. So I tugged it out and answered. ¡°Okay, if you¡¯re calling to complain about Sierra putting you through--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s their dad,¡± Peyton interrupted. ¡°He called on that special phone and wants to talk to you. I mean, the person he talked to before. He said we¡¯d really regret it if we don¡¯t let him through.¡±


    Blinking, I glanced toward Paige. She could obviously hear the other girl just fine, and had a look of annoyance mixed with resignation. In the end, she nodded for me to take it.


    So, sighing at the fact that we had to deal with this asshole having another hissy fit, I told Peyton to go ahead and forward the call to my phone. Then I adjusted my voice changer to the male one I¡¯d been using on these calls and waited through a couple clicks until I could hear the man breathing. Only then did I speak. ¡°You really need to stop calling so much. Can''t you tell we''re just not that into you?¡±


    Unlike the other times he had called recently, the man''s voice was eerily calm. ¡°You should have worked with me. We could have come to an arrangement. Now you forced my hand. Tell my daughter she had her chance.¡±


    I started to retort, but the line went dead. That was all he needed to say, apparently. I guess he wasn''t feeling that chatty, I announced, while turning to glance at Paige. But she wasn''t looking back at me. Her gaze was focused off in the distance, staring at nothing as she mumbled something about ¡®all the ambulances and firetrucks.¡¯ Abruptly, she pivoted and snapped a command for the television to turn on to a certain channel.


    My eyes turned that way as well, following hers even as I saw some sort of breaking news alert. On the screen, the news anchor was saying something about a biological attack. I was still trying to process what was going on as the image switched to show a reporter standing on a roof a couple buildings over from the Conservator headquarters talking about how the authorities wouldn''t let anyone in the building and medical staff weren¡¯t giving any update on the victims.


    ¡°Victims?¡± I found myself asking in confusion while a steady feeling of dread kept rising in me. ¡°What victims? What biological attack?¡±


    ¡°My father,¡± Paige answered in a brittle voice that was clearly on the edge of breaking entirely. ¡°He did this. He wanted me to know he did this.¡± Her eyes found mine. ¡°Cassie, he sent one of his biolems in the building, that''s the only explanation. He must''ve filled it with some sort of gas or something.¡±


    ¡°Gas?¡± I echoed. ¡°Paige, what are you talking about?¡± Some part of me knew, had already caught up, but my conscious mind wouldn¡¯t accept it until she spelled it out.


    ¡°He set off an attack inside the building,¡± she explained, voice shaking. ¡°Cassie, Irelyn was in there, a-and your dad.


    ¡°And I don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re alive.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-15

    The next few moments were a complete blur. I didn''t even remember leaving that kitchen, to be honest. The next thing I knew after hearing those words, I was on top of the fence at the edge of the Banners¡¯ property. Paige was saying something behind me, but I didn''t care what it was. I used blue paint to launch myself outward and then sent a shot of red toward a street light in the distance to yank myself that way. The instant I hit that lamp, I was using another shot of blue to throw myself even higher and further. The corner of a building was coming up and I hit that with pink before instantly disabling it so that when I hit, I bounced right off, propelled onward like it was a slingshot.


    I wasn''t even consciously thinking about where I was going. There was no question about it in my head. My entire body, without any internal consultation on my part, knew we were heading for the Conservators¡¯ building. I had to get there. I had no idea what I was going to do once I did, because I wasn''t thinking that far ahead. I wasn''t thinking at all. The only thing I was doing was moving. One jump, one lunge, One bounce at a time, one after another, I leapt from building to sign to lamp post to another building. There was a high-pitched whine in the back of my head that could''ve been my imagination, or it could''ve been myself actually making that noise. Was I screaming? Was I praying? Was I crying? I had no idea. I couldn''t focus. Images of my father being hurt kept playing through my head no matter what I did. And when I tried to think more clearly, the images only got stronger. The only peace I got was by pushing everything out of my mind and blindly running.


    I was honestly surprised that I didn''t end up crashing into anything or slipping. It was either a miracle, or my power was helping somehow. I just ran onward without even stopping to consider literally anything. My dad was hurt. He had been in that building when the chemical attack or whatever it was went off. I had to get there. I had to help him.


    After a few minutes of running like that, I was oh-so-gradually getting closer to my destination, though it was still incredibly far away. Some part of me said I was tired from all the running, but I pushed it aside. It didn''t matter. Nothing else mattered. I could keel over and I wouldn''t care. I just had to get to that building. Even if the still-reasonable part of my brain told me it was too far to run to within any reasonable amount of time.


    Abruptly, I heard the sound of a motorcycle revving up and managed to glance down just in time to see the machine itself go flying up off a makeshift ramp of a truck, landing on the roof of the small building just in front of me before skidding to a halt. It was Paige, still dressed as Poise of course. She stared at me for a second before speaking up. ¡°Cassie, I know! I know, believe me. But you can¡¯t go running in there like that.¡±


    ¡°Are you stupid?!¡± I reflexively blurted without even thinking. ¡°Get out of the way, my dad¡¯s hurt!¡± I started to move around her. When she reached out to grab my arm, I used a bit of purple paint to rip myself free violently enough that it yanked her off the bike. I didn¡¯t care. All I knew was that her dad had planted something in there that had ended up hurting mine. Or¡­ or¡­ worse. Tears tried to blind me before I blinked them aside. No. No, I wouldn¡¯t assume that. I wouldn¡¯t even let myself think it. My dad was okay. He had to be okay. But I had to get there first and make sure, and I wasn''t going to let Paige Banners stop me.


    ¡°I know!¡± Paige, letting the bike fall, blurted while keeping herself in my path. ¡°Cassidy, Cassie, I know! My sister¡¯s in there too, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on with her. I don¡¯t even know if she¡¯s--I don¡¯t know how she is! But if you go running in there like this, if you go screaming for your dad, they¡¯ll figure out who you are! They¡¯ll know.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I give a shit about that?¡± I still wasn¡¯t thinking, not at all. ¡°I don¡¯t care if they find out who I am, my dad--¡±


    ¡°What if Pittman has spies in there still?¡± she pointed out flatly. ¡°What if he figures out who you are, or one of the Scions or someone like that do? There¡¯s still a lot of other ways they can hurt you, hurt all of us, Cassie. Please.¡± She swallowed audibly before clearly forcing herself to speak as calmly as possible. ¡°We have to go. We have to find out if we can help, and what¡¯s going on. I swear, we will, but you have to take a breath. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m such an evil, stupid bitch. I¡¯m sorry I stopped you, sorry I had to stop you.¡± I could hear the emotion in her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to hate me, Cassie. I¡¯m sorry. Please. We can go there. We can check on them, and help. But we have to be careful. Your identity matters. Your life matters. Please. I--I need you to breathe. I need you to¡­ to not hate me, please.¡±


    It hit me in a rush. Her sister, no matter how much she acted as though she didn¡¯t really see her that way, was hurt too. She had been within a hair¡¯s breadth of getting Irelyn back safely and now all of a sudden she had no idea if the older girl was even alive. It was possible that her sister had been ripped away from her right when she was about to be able to tell her the truth about herself, and possibly have a real relationship with her.


    She was going through all that worry, and I had run off blindly, forcing her to pull herself together and chase after me just to stop me from doing something that could have put all of us in incredible danger. Now my emotions were in even greater turmoil, and there was still a part of me that wanted to tell her to get the hell out of my way and let me go storming in there. But, as terrified and panicked as I was, she had a point. Beyond the fact that she had every right to be as worried as I was, if I went into that building like this, people would figure out I had someone in there I cared about. And from there it probably wouldn''t take long to blow my entire identity. Which was if I didn''t blow it myself by shouting for my dad or something like that. Hell, in the mood I had been in just a second earlier, I might have gone as far as ripping my helmet and mask off just to get close to him. I hadn''t been thinking about anything else. All of that flashed through my mind over the next couple of seconds while I stood there staring at Paige. She must have interpreted my body language because she slowly lowered her hands and took a step back, speaking again, a little more softly. ¡°We¡¯ll go there. We''ll find out what happened and how we can help. But you have to be calm, okay? Can you do that?¡±


    It took me a moment to find my voice and to decide how to answer. ¡°I don''t know,¡± I finally admitted. ¡°But I''ll do my best.¡± Reaching out, I touched her shoulder. ¡°I''m sorry,¡± I offered a bit weakly. ¡°I mean, for running out without you, for that bit right there, for--¡±


    She interrupted. ¡°Don''t worry about it, worry about your dad, and let''s get over there.¡±


    I started to move, only to stop and look back at the motorcycle she had come up here with. It was a dirt bike. Paige saw me looking at it and lifted her head. ¡°What are you thinking?¡±


    In reply, I marched to the motorcycle and stuck my leg over it. ¡°Get on,¡± I ordered while revving the engine. ¡°We¡¯re getting to that building right now.¡±


    I could''ve sworn Paige murmured a prayer before quickly climbing on behind me. Then she was holding on around my waist as I focused. And that was when I realized something. This dirtbike was small enough that I was able to paint it while sitting on the thing as though it was part of my own clothes. In other words, I could make colors appear on it without having to point my hand and spray.


    Now this, this was something I could work with.


    Without another thought, I gunned the engine and sent the dirtbike flying toward the edge of the roof. Paige clung tighter to me as I made both of the tires green with a thought, and suddenly we were going three times as fast. The dirt bike was pretty high-end, considering it came from the Banners¡¯ garage, so it could hit about ninety miles per hour, though with this short of a path we had, it would only naturally reach about sixty. But with the paint I had just added, we hit one-eighty before we hit the edge of the roof. Oh, and I pointed my hand ahead to shoot a bit of blue paint that way so that when we did hit it, the bike was catapulted into the air at that speed.


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    Yeah, we were both screaming. Though mine at least was out of sheer excitement. Even in this moment, even as terrified as I was about what could''ve happened to my father, I was still taking a dirt bike off the roof of a building at almost two hundred miles per hour to fly through the air. Before the bike could start to descend, I painted the front part, including that tire, red while shooting another bit of the same toward the side of the taller building in the distance. We were yanked that way as I had to cling even more tightly to the bike so it wouldn''t be yanked out from under me. Even then, I had to give myself a little purple boost. Paige¡¯s grip tightened as well. And we were both still screaming.


    When we were three quarters of the way to the building, I canceled the paint, allowing our momentum to carry us a bit further. Before doing anything else, I painted the bottom part of my pants red as well as the seat to stick myself to it more firmly. Paige essentially wrapping herself around me meant I could do the same to her so she wouldn¡¯t go flying off. Then I shouted for the other girl to lean left while doing the same myself. Leaning left meant leaning toward the ground. It should''ve at least raised a question, but Paige didn''t even hesitate. She leaned that way with me just as I painted both of our tires red that time, following it up by spraying a line of red all along the side of the building we were hurtling toward. Suddenly, we were yanked that way even more strongly, though this time it was the two tires being pulled. I waited until the second the wheels hit the brick wall and then gunned the engine once more. The dirtbike lurched forward. At the same time, I canceled just part of the paint on the wall, but only the part we had just driven over. I continued to do that, canceling the paint we left behind so it wouldn¡¯t pull us backwards, while the paint we were actually on continued to work so the bike stayed against the wall.


    And just like that, we were driving sideways along the building. Oh yeah, and the bike had gotten up to its maximum speed, so we were actually going almost three hundred miles per hour. Needless to say, it didn''t take long to reach the end of that wall. As we did, I used another shot of blue to bounce us sideways off that building, followed by more red on both tires and the building ahead of us. Only this time, I painted a vertical line so that as we were sent flying that way, the bike landed and started to run straight up before shooting over the edge. We flew into the air while I pushed down on the front, and a second later we hit the roof of that building and kept going. I had to renew the green paint by that point and did so instantly, so we could continue to cannonball our way from one end of the roof to the other.


    Was it possible that I was coping with my fear and worry by throwing myself through the biggest daredevil stunt I could think of right at that moment? Yeah, probably. But still, it was working. Not only was this incredibly fun, something I would appreciate later when I knew for certain that my dad was safe, as I told myself, but it also forced me to focus entirely on what I was doing. I constantly had to throw every ounce of my attention and thought processes onto the next jump or stunt. It stopped my brain from dwelling on the what-ifs. All that mattered was getting through the next few seconds, and the next few after that, and so on. I absolutely did not have to think about things that I really did not want to.


    As we hit the edge of that roof, I aimed the bike toward the top of a billboard that was below us. It was way too far down for a normal bike to land safely. So it was a good thing there was nothing normal about what we were doing. I estimated the distance we were falling and gave the bike some yellow paint along with orange, slowing it just enough that the orange paint would help it stay together. After a quick consideration mid-fall, I also sent a spray of orange toward the sign itself to help avoid having the whole thing crumble underneath us. I had to aim just perfectly, but with that secondary power of mine, the one that helped me know where everything around me was, doing so wasn''t a problem. I judged the distance perfectly, landing the bike with the top edge of the sign right in the middle of the tires. Then we went driving straight across that as well before I used a bit of blue at the end to bounce us forward and up just enough to reach the roof of yet another building, this one much lower than the others.


    And so it continued that way. I couldn''t use my paint every second, of course. I''d run out quickly that way, even if my reserves had become much deeper than they were before. But even when I couldn''t use my paint, we were still driving a dirt bike, so it was faster than running. And we were almost always doing it across a roof or sign, somewhere away from traffic. In the rare instances we were in traffic, I weaved in and out of cars, paying absolutely no attention to the rules of the road. I didn''t care about any of that. All I cared about was getting to that building, no matter what it took. Maybe I couldn''t go running inside screaming for my dad. But I could sure as hell make my way there as quickly as possible and just behave like a Star-Touched who wanted to help when I heard about a biological weapon attack.


    Yeah, okay, it was dangerous. But me not barging in and immediately ruining my secret identity was already a stretch. I was keeping myself about as together as I possibly could under the circumstances.


    Eventually, I managed to bring the bike to a stop right at the edge of a roof across the street from the main Conservator base in Detroit. The place looked pretty unassuming. It was just a four story square building with what looked like glass windows over the whole thing, but of course they were actually made of some super secret material that was capable of withstanding a hell of a lot more damage than even solid steel. Plus they had this neat fibermesh stuff running all the way through the building that reacted to any attack on the building by activating this sort of forcefield.


    There were a lot of other defenses on the place, many of which I was sure I didn¡¯t know about. Some of those I was aware of included lookouts and snipers. One of whom was standing right there at the corner of the building we had just landed on. He waited until we came to a stop, then spoke above the sound of the bike¡¯s engine. ¡°Paintball, prove it¡¯s you, then state why you¡¯re here.¡±


    Only after he said that did I notice the remote in the man¡¯s hand. His finger was already pressing the button, which was probably the source of the automated gun turret that had just popped out of the innocuous-looking chimney nearby. It wasn¡¯t shooting at us, probably because he was still holding the button down. A deadman¡¯s switch, in case we did anything to him. He¡¯d drop the remote and then the gun, and probably many other defenses, would do their job.


    So, I pointed away from the man, shooting a bit of red paint at a metal lunchbox that sat there before making it come to my hand. Then I killed the engine on the bike and stepped off. It took literally everything I had to keep my voice as even and normal as possible. It was so hard not to just demand to know if my dad was okay. ¡°We heard there was some sort of attack, and¡­ and I thought I could help get people out, or calm people down, or--what¡¯s happening in there?¡± My head snapped around to stare at the place, while Paige remained silent behind me.


    The man exhaled, clicking something on the remote to make the gun retract. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t come rushing up like that, especially not in a situation like this. They¡¯ve moved the victims to the medical wing already, and both that floor and the one where the attack happened have been locked down. There¡¯s not much for you to do here, sorry.¡±


    ¡°How--¡± I had to control my response. Fuck, fuck, I couldn¡¯t scream at this guy, I couldn¡¯t start crying. ¡°How many were hurt? Who--did we lose anyone?¡±


    The man blinked at me once, before his expression softened. ¡°A few died immediately. More didn¡¯t make it to the medical wing. Whatever that stuff is, it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s bad. From the last report I got, Flea, Trivial, and that woman they brought with them are pretty sick. As are¡­ basically half the Touched member of the Conservators and Spartans. Half of both of those teams are out until they find a cure to this stuff. Silversmith and Bokor were in the room with them, and so were Brumal and Boulderdash. And a couple from the Seraphs who were checking in. But don¡¯t worry, they¡¯ve got them stabilized. It¡¯s just¡­ they can¡¯t get out of there until the docs come up with a cure.¡±


    My dad was sick. He was sick. Just sick though. He wasn¡¯t--it wasn¡¯t worse. ¡°But--but they¡¯ll find a cure to this stuff, right? They¡¯re working on it?¡± I had to get in there, I had to see him. But I felt a bit of the panic ease. Just a bit.


    ¡°I hope so, kid,¡± the man replied. ¡°Especially since that Evans lady was in there.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± I gave a quick doubletake at that. Evans lady? Huh?


    He nodded. ¡°Yeah, Elena Evans. She was in there too for some reason. So I guess they¡¯ll be spending all their resources to help cure this thing.¡±


    Oh¡­ it wasn¡¯t just my dad who was out of commission, sick and locked down in quarantine waiting for the medical people to find a cure.


    It was both of my parents.

 Center Of Attention 26-16

    Obviously, it was even harder for me to keep myself under control with that bit of news. Sure, they said the victims who had survived so far were stable, but that could change at any second. They were still quarantined. Both of my parents had been hit by this chemical attack or whatever it was. How did that happen? Why had my mother even been here in the first place? She wasn¡¯t part of the Conservators or any government institution.


    Even more importantly, at least in a larger and more immediate sense, what was going to happen with the Ministry over the next however long it took for my parents to get better? Obviously they had a power structure in place, but they were both the leaders. Who would be giving out orders now?


    Actually, come to think of that, I asked, ¡°The¡­ sick people, how bad are they? I mean, you said they were quarantined, but are they conscious? Can they talk to people?¡±


    The man paused as though he wasn''t exactly sure how much information he should give out. Then he exhaled. ¡°Look, I know you''re worried about all those people, and about how the city¡¯s going to get along in the middle of all this gang shit with half of two of our major Star teams out of commission. Trust me, we''ve all been thinking about it. Some of the affected are awake, but even then, they''re¡­ well they¡¯re sort of delirious. They''re not thinking straight, and sure as hell not communicating properly. The others are in some sort of coma. The doctors think whatever gas got loose in there makes them hallucinate and puts them in a dream-like state. For some it''s stronger and completely knocks them out. Like I said, they''re working on a cure. But unless either of you have a degree in medicine, I don''t think you''ll be much help in there.¡±


    He was right, of course. Well, about me anyway. For all I knew, Paige did have the equivalent of a medical degree somewhere inside her programming and training. But I doubted they would listen to her. None of those people were going to listen to us, not even if we tried to tell them where this attack had come from. Why would they?


    While I was thinking about that, the man continued. ¡°But I''ll tell you where we do need you. Out there on those streets. As soon as those gangs figure out that some of our Touched are out of commission, they''re really gonna start raising hell. As if it wasn¡¯t bad enough already. So we need to make sure all the people we do have left on their feet are ready to go. And from what I''ve been hearing, you guys and the rest of your team are pretty good to have around.¡±


    I couldn''t even begin to think about how to respond to that. My brain was going in too many directions at once. And a lot of those directions led straight toward panicking. Crying was in there too. My parents were sick, delirious, hallucinating, or even in a coma. What the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn''t even go in there and see them like this.


    I was still mentally flailing and getting really close to losing it, as Paige pulled me by the arm. ¡°Come on, Paintball, we''ll see what we can do to help somewhere else.¡± Her voice remained remarkably even as she looked at the man and thanked him for talking to us. And just like that, we left. I walked the bike back to the other edge of the roof, and both of us dropped down together with it. It wasn''t until we were a block away that I managed to find my voice. ¡°Paige, your sister--¡±


    ¡°And your parents,¡± she finished for me. ¡°Yeah, believe me, I know. But he wasn''t going to let us in there or tell us any more specific information. Not unless we both told him a lot more than either of us wanted to.¡±


    We were standing by an alley as I looked at my hand and tried to will it to stop violently shaking. I felt sick, as though a stone was rolling through my stomach. My heart kept pounding against my chest, and a chill tried to run through me. It felt like I was sick, which was completely ridiculous. I hadn''t been exposed to anything, so why would I feel any effects? It was just my stupid emotions going wild.


    Finally, I managed to respond. ¡°We have to find out what''s actually going on in there, and how sick they are. We have to--¡± Before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed. I fumbled with it before taking the thing out and almost answered as Paintball before realizing I was holding my personal phone. What''s more, the person calling was Simon. Boy would that have been a horrifyingly simple and mundane way to blow my secret. At the last second, I caught myself before turning off my voice changer app. Then I answered as myself, trying to sound as normal as possible under the circumstances. ¡°Simon?¡±


    ¡°Oh thank fuck!¡± my brother blurted. ¡°Where the hell have you been? I''ve been sending you texts and calls for the past thirty minutes! Look, never mind. Just tell me where you are so I can pick you up.¡±


    Blinking, I looked at my phone. He was right, I had a bunch of missed calls and texts from him. I hadn''t even noticed in the rush to get over here and all that. Obviously, he was freaking out a little bit right now too.


    Again, I had to pretend I had no idea what he was so upset about. I wasn''t supposed to know that dad was Silversmith, and I certainly wouldn''t have any idea that Mom had been in that building. So, despite the terror in my stomach, I forced myself to sound as disinterested as possible. ¡°Dude, I¡¯m just hanging out. I don''t need a ride home. I haven''t needed a ride home in like forever. Why would you even--¡±


    ¡°Just tell me where you are!¡± He snapped. ¡°I know you disabled the tracker in your phone a long time ago so Mom and Dad wouldn''t hassle you, but I really need to know where you are right now, Cassidy.¡± His voice caught, sounding as emotional as I''ve ever heard. Then he got himself under control. ¡°Look, you''re not in trouble or anything, and I''m not messing with you. I just need to talk to you and it''s better if we do it in person. I know, I know I''m not good at this or anything. But please, just tell me where to meet you, or go back to the house and I''ll see you there.¡±


    Somehow, the way he was acting made me feel even worse. I wanted to scream at him to knock it off, because him being serious right now and sounding only like he was losing it was going to make me lose it too, in a way I couldn¡¯t afford. But I simply clenched my free hand tight enough to hurt before making the next words come out. ¡°I''ll see you at home. I''ll be there soon. What about Mom and Dad? What about Izzy?¡± Oh God, Izzy. This had come right after she agreed to be adopted.


    Simon informed me that Izzy was already with him in the car as he was talking to me. Izzy, for her part, spoke up quietly to confirm that. I could hear the uncertainty and fear in her voice. She probably knew as much as I did, if not more. She probably would have already called me if she hadn''t been in the car with him.


    So, after promising to be home soon, I disconnected and looked at Paige. She, in turn, gave a short nod. ¡°Go home. I¡¯m going to figure out how to get more information out of that place.¡±


    My mouth opened before I caught myself and took a breath to consider what I was saying. ¡°Paige,¡± I finally managed, ¡°be careful, okay? That place has got to be on super-lockdown right now. They aren''t going to let anyone who isn¡¯t authorized in there. And if you try to force it, they¡­ I don''t want anything bad to happen to you.¡±


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    The blonde girl paused before quietly replying, ¡°They know Irelyn is my sister, at least some of them have to. I''ll just show up as myself and demand to know how she is. There''s no reason I wouldn''t be there to check on her. My parents are missing and she¡¯s the only family I have around. Maybe they''ll tell me more, or let me see her, even if it''s through a quarantine shield. At the very least I can find out more than we know right now. If I get anything, I''ll let you know. And I''ll check on your parents too, if I can.¡±


    There wasn''t much more I could say to that, so I simply thanked her and then changed in the alley while she kept lookout before summoning an Uber to take me home. The whole time, I still felt like I was going to throw up. Or possibly pass out. There was a ringing in the back of my head that still wouldn''t go away. And now I had to go into my house and act like a clueless little girl who was getting this news for the first time. Speaking of which, how was Simon going to present it? There was no way he would tell me that our dad was Silversmith. So what reasoning would he give for both of them being at that place? Hell, what would he say about Mom being there? I had no idea. I really didn''t, and I also wasn''t looking forward to feigning cluelessness about the whole situation again.


    But I was about to find out, as the car dropped me off by the gate. I made sure to tip the driver extra since I was sure I hadn''t been a very good passenger. I barely responded to his comments with distracted grunts, and I sure wasn''t smiling. The fact that I had communicated enough to confirm that I was the person he was there to pick up was pretty much the limit of my communication abilities at that point.


    From there, I basically ran in the front door. My mouth opened to call out for my brother, but he was already waiting there, his expression impatient and a bit freaked out. Which obviously didn''t help anything. As soon as he saw me, Simon gestured. ¡°Come on, Izzy¡¯s waiting.¡±


    So, forcing myself not to blurt out questions I shouldn''t even have known to ask yet, I followed after the boy into the dining room. Our new sister was, sure enough, sitting at the table. As soon as she saw me, Izzy jumped up and moved in for a hug, which I returned tightly while looking at Simon. ¡°Wha-what¡¯s going on? What happened? Where¡¯s Mom and Dad?¡± At least at that point, considering how they were acting, it made sense for me to sound worried and scared. It would have been weird if I sounded completely normal right then.


    Getting both of us to sit down, Simon launched into an explanation. Or at least as close to an explanation as he could give us while thinking we were completely clueless about all the Ministry and Silversmith stuff. According to my brother, Mom and Dad had been at the Conservators building in order to take part in welcoming Trivial and Flea back to the city, because of the political favors they had helped pull against Breakwater to get them out of there in the first place, and to give them a gift for everything they¡¯d gone through. Then there was some sort of biological weapon attack on the building and now they were sick. He stressed that they were both alive and as stable as anyone else in there, but they were quarantined and couldn''t come out. The doctors were working on a cure, analyzing our parents and the rest of the victims, as well as some residue that had been left behind. He tried to sound as confident as possible when he told us our parents would be fine and would come home soon, but his voice shook a bit throughout that whole thing. He was really close to completely breaking down. Which really didn¡¯t help me.


    Shoving myself to my feet, I shook my head rapidly. ¡°We have to go down there! We have to go see them. What--why aren¡¯t we already there? Simon, let¡¯s go! We have to go see Mom and Dad!¡±


    ¡°Cass, we can¡¯t--not yet.¡± Simon took a breath, holding up a hand for me to wait. ¡°Look, you don''t think I want to be there right now? The doctors need us to stay out of the way so they can work. They said we can go visit later tonight, alright? They''ll call when it''s okay to come down there. And I promise I won''t leave without you. We¡¯ll go together, we¡¯ll visit them, and you¡¯ll see that it¡¯ll all be okay. Come on, it''s our parents. They can afford the absolute best doctors in the world, even if they have to fly all the way in from China. And this was at the Conservators¡¯ headquarters. They¡¯ve got the best of the best of the best working on this.¡± He pulled me into an embrace, which I didn''t fight at all. Then he did the same for Izzy, pulling her close as well as he hugged both of us. ¡°I swear, it''s going to be okay. We just have to take care of ourselves for a little bit. And considering we have like fifty people working in this house to take care of our every need, I think we can handle it.¡± He was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, but his voice wasn''t that convincing.


    There was so much I wanted to say at that moment, but I wasn''t sure how much I could get away with. Even now, terrified out of my mind for our parents¡¯ safety, I had to worry about saying the wrong thing, or even just something that might make him think something I couldn''t afford him thinking later. All of which just made me feel even more sick inside. My parents were sick, maybe even both in a coma for all I knew, and all I could do was worry about giving away my secrets? Was I that bad of a person?


    I had to get out of there. I couldn''t stand to stay in this room anymore. So, after making Simon promise to come get us as soon as it was time to go, Izzy and I went up to my room and laid on my bed. Once we were safely alone, I told her everything I had found out and what Paige and I had been doing when Simon called. She laid there on the bed with me, the two of us holding one another as I lost the struggle not to cry. Izzy wasn¡¯t exactly in much better shape as far as that went, and for awhile we just lost ourselves that way.


    Finally, after an hour or so, Izzy quietly asked, ¡°This is going to be bad, isn''t it? The Ministry¡¯s two top leaders are out of commission, and so are a bunch of Star-Touched, including the leaders of both the Conservators and the Spartans. The bad guys are going to jump on that. They''re not gonna slow down. They¡¯re going to go to war even harder and make the city worse.¡±


    A heavy sigh escaped me. I¡¯d been obsessing over that myself, and hearing someone else say it right then just made it feel worse and more real. ¡°I don''t know how bad it¡¯ll get,¡± I admitted. ¡°But you''re right. It''s probably not going to be good. We just have to be ready to do something about it. At least as much as we can.¡± The words of that guard back at the Conservators¡¯ base talking about how they were going to need visible Star-Touched out on the street to keep things in order played through my head. ¡°I think we''re gonna end up getting a lot of overtime.¡±


    After saying that, I set up and let my legs hang off the side of the bed. My voice was quiet. ¡°They''re going to be okay, right? Tell me they''re going to be okay.¡± I needed to hear it again, even if she had no better idea of how this was going to turn out then I did. My stomach was churning again. It felt like I was going to throw up, even though I hadn¡¯t eaten anything in quite awhile. Hell, that was probably part of the problem. But there was no way I could force anything down, not like this.


    Izzy sat aside me and took my hand with a nod. ¡°You know Simon¡¯s right. They''ve got the best doctors they could possibly have, and the best equipment. They¡¯ll take care of your mom and dad.¡±


    ¡°Our mom and dad,¡± I reminded her, squeezing the girl¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re right, yeah. They--they survived this long, they made it past the main attack. They¡¯ll be alright. Just--we just have to give the doctors time.¡±


    Before either of us could say anything else, my phone buzzed. It was Paige, so I answered it with a glance toward Izzy. ¡°What happened? Are you okay?¡±


    There was a pause, long enough that I almost started to think the connection had dropped, before the girl spoke up. ¡°It was them.¡± Her voice sounded even worse and more strained than it had earlier, cracking slightly.


    ¡°Them?¡± I echoed uncertainly. ¡°Who? What do you mean?¡±


    Another pause, then, ¡°The Banners. Remember how they were missing? They showed up at the Conservators place to meet Irelyn. That¡¯s why they were allowed inside, right into that room. Of course they let them in. I wondered how my dad could¡¯ve gotten any of his biolems close enough. It was the Banners, the real Banners. They just walked in, and¡­ and then¡­¡± She audibly gulped. ¡°He--he did something to them. His people did, his biolems, I mean. He had them do something to the Banners while they were missing. That¡¯s why they were gone for so long. He did it. His people. They-- they made them--he turned them into bombs, Cassie.


    ¡°Pittman had the Banners turned into biological weapons and made them blow up right in front of Irelyn. They¡¯re dead, and Irelyn¡¯s in a coma, because of him.¡±

 Center Of Attention 26-17

    The entire time the adult Banners had been missing, we¡¯d asked ourselves where they could be and whether they were even alive. Apparently the answer had been they were, but not anymore. No wonder this had happened. I hadn''t been able to understand how Pitman could have gotten one of his Biolems past the security measures and right up to where my parents, Irelyn, and the others were. It turned out he hadn''t. Instead, he had sent the Banners in there to do it.


    Did they know they had been turned into biological weapons? Something made me doubt that. But it was the perfect trap. Of course they had been allowed in to see their daughter. Even if they had apparently disowned her or whatever, she had been missing on Breakwater for all this time. No one in their right mind would¡¯ve told them they couldn¡¯t see her.


    How long had that piece of shit been planning this? He had to have known that, at some point or another, Irelyn would be back in Detroit. And he undoubtedly knew that my parents would want to talk to her, or at least that they would be in the same area at some important point.


    He planned it. He had the Banners turned into biological weapons just so he could send them into that same area and¡­ and detonate them. He killed them to hurt, maybe even kill, my family and Irelyn. Not to mention all the others who had died or been hurt. And we still didn''t know if they''d be able to find a cure. This whole situation could get even worse than it already was. I could lose my--


    No, I wasn''t going to think about that. Not right now. Instead, after talking for another minute with Paige, I disconnected and fell back on my bed. Fresh tears were streaming down my face while Izzy lay next to me and put an arm around my shoulders. We laid there like that together while I explained what I had just heard. She, naturally, didn''t take the news any better. She said a few choice words about Pittman that probably should''ve sounded shocking coming from someone her age. But I didn''t care right then. Or at all, really. He deserved all of them.


    Finally, after a few minutes of just laying there, I put an arm around the other girl and held her tighter while speaking up. ¡°We can''t let him get away with this.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to tell the Ministry everything?¡± Izzy asked that quietly while shifting around on the bed to stare at me. She wasn''t judging one way or the other. She just wanted to know what I was going to do.


    My mouth opened and then shut as several wild thoughts ran through my head. In the end, I simply gave a heavy sigh. ¡°Not everything. I''m not even sure what that would accomplish. We can''t just tell them who I am and all that. It wouldn''t help anything except to maybe convince them that I really do want to help my parents. But I''m pretty sure they''re all plenty motivated to do that already. We could maybe point them in the right direction, tell them where this attack came from. Maybe they could drag Pitman off that island and get answers out of him. Or maybe that''s exactly what he wants. Think about it, he called to taunt us. Obviously he wanted us to know he was the one responsible for what happened. I think he wants us to tell the Ministry so they can pull strings. He''s probably got some other plan to escape that he¡¯ll put into effect the second that happens.¡±


    Izzy sat up on the bed and then stood, walking back-and-forth around the room agitatedly. ¡°He did all this just to escape?¡±


    My head bobbed in a quick nod. ¡°I think so,¡± I managed even as my voice cracked from emotion. ¡°Well, that and because he''s a hateful, arrogant piece of shit and we made him mad. Paige dared turn against him and he wanted to punish her. He knew she wanted Irelyn back, so he did this. Plus, it let him hurt the Ministry, and we know he hates them. I don''t know if he knew both our parents would be there, but he obviously assumed at least Dad would. The point is, I think he wants the Ministry to find out he was the one responsible so they''ll do something to get him off that island and get answers out of him. There has to be a reason he called to make absolutely sure we knew he was the one behind the attack. He wants us to be mad and overreact without thinking.¡±


    Izzy hesitated before speaking uncertainly. ¡°But even if that''s what he wants, what if it''s the only way to cure these people? What if it''s the only way to help your¡­ our parents? What if they--¡±


    Stopping her before she could finish that sentence, I quickly spoke up. ¡°We won''t let it get that far. We¡¯ll get answers out of him ourselves. I don''t know how, or-- I mean I don''t¡­¡± I covered my mouth with one hand and shuddered hard as the terror of what could happen washed over me yet again. The fear was like waves that kept lapping up over the beach of my mind. They would withdraw a bit and give me a moment of peace to think, then inevitably come rushing back, washing away the small sandcastle of coherent thought I had managed to put together in those moments. The tears returned, as did my shaking. If my parents died, if I lost either of them, or both of them, I had no idea what I would do. But I did know that playing right into this monster''s hands wouldn''t help us at all. My parents had the absolute best care they possibly could, from both sides of the law. I had to hope that those people could keep them safe long enough for us to actually think this through and come up with a better solution than to give Pittman exactly what he wanted.


    Besides, something told me that even if I exposed absolutely everything I knew and everything I was to the Ministry, it wouldn''t help that much. Pittman had to have planned for anything they could do to him, and would probably have people in place, maybe even his own Biolems, to take advantage of anything they tried. Our biggest advantage really was that he didn''t know anything about us. He didn''t know who I was, not really. He just thought I was some guy Paige was working with. Maybe there was a way we could use that, along with the fact that he didn''t know about Sierra.


    We did have some advantages still, I had to remind myself past the utter terror and helplessness I felt about what was happening to my parents. No matter how hard it was, I couldn''t let myself react completely emotionally. I had to stop and think about everything we did next. Because I was absolutely certain that if he had anything to say about it, Pitman wouldn''t just not cure the people he had infected, he would gladly watch them die. And if I just blundered my way emotionally through this, I would be playing right into his hands.


    But dear God did even thinking those things make me feel revulsion. How could I even say that I couldn''t react emotionally? They were my parents! If something happened to them just because I didn''t want to play into Pittman¡¯s hands¡­


    Yeah, needless to say, I had a lot of conflicting emotions and thoughts about the whole thing. Which Izzy helped me with, while I helped the other girl with her own. We were a mess, reconsidering everything we thought and said. At times, I had almost convinced myself I was wrong about every reaction I''d had and that the very best thing to do would be walking right up to my brother and telling him everything.


    No, I couldn''t do that. The Ministry would do their thing and we would do ours. Maybe we could point them in the right direction. But not until I had talked to the others, not until we had a better idea of exactly what was going on and how the victims had been affected. I couldn''t go rushing into a decision right now. That was what Pittman wanted us to do. He wanted Paige to be angry, he wanted all of us to be angry. He wanted the Ministry to find out and do something to get him off that island, if they were even capable of that. The point was, he wanted to make everyone react without thinking it through. And we absolutely couldn''t afford to do that. We had to be careful, no matter how hard it was.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Finally, after an hour or so like that, the intercom buzzed as Simon let us know it was time to go down to the Conservators building and see our parents. The doctors were ready to allow visitors. Which, of course, sent another wave of terror over me. What if they simply wanted to let us talk to them because they were afraid there wouldn''t be another chance? Maybe it was ridiculous to assume that, but I couldn''t stop the thought once it occurred to me.


    Together, Izzy and I took one another''s hands and left my room. Whatever came next, however this went and whatever we saw when we went into that place, I would be forever grateful to have her with me. The thought of how broken I would''ve been without her made bile rise in my throat. I absolutely could not have gotten through this without Izzy. She had been important to me before, of course. But having her here now, having her with me when all this happened, was absolutely indispensable.


    Simon was waiting for us downstairs in front of the front door. When he saw us, he shook his head and gestured the other way, toward the hallway leading to the garage. ¡°We¡¯ll take one of the cars ourselves. Jefferson¡¯s¡­ running some other errands. Stuff mom asked him to do before.¡±


    Obviously, it wasn''t the best excuse, but I really didn''t think he cared much at that point. I sure didn''t. I didn''t have the emotional energy to play that game right now. It was clear that whatever Jefferson was actually doing undoubtedly had to do with this whole situation, and all I could do was silently wish him luck.


    So, we went to the garage and took one of the BMWs. Once Izzy and I were both in the back and had our belts on, Simon tore off out of there and down the driveway at a speed that probably would have made Mom yell at him if she was there. It was a thought that I could tell he had at the same time from the way his hands tightened on the wheel. But he didn''t say anything. He just saluted the guard at the gate, who stood with it open and waiting, as we blew right through there and out into the street.


    For a couple minutes as we practically flew down the street away from our neighborhood full of mansions, I didn''t trust my voice. It sort of felt like I should say something, anything, but I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, the wrong thing would come out. Izzy seemed to have the same problem, simply squeezing my hand while we sat there in silence.


    Finally, Simon had apparently had enough of that, because he hit the button to make the radio start blaring deafening rock music. He was probably trying to drown out his own thoughts. And honestly, I couldn''t blame him. My situation was complicated, yes, but it wasn''t like his was much better. If something happened to Mom and Dad--No! Fuck, Cassidy, stop thinking anything like that, for God¡¯s sake!


    It was almost impossible to push those thoughts out of my mind, but I finally closed my eyes and let my head slip back as the pounding music washed over me. Yeah, it worked for me too. I just lost myself to the noise and stopped thinking about anything at all.


    Before I knew it, the car was pulling through a heavy police barricade around the street leading to the Conservators¡¯ headquarters. The cop who stepped up to the car took one look at Simon and just nodded before waving for him to go ahead. So, we weaved our way through another few such barricades and down into the parking garage. There were a bunch of emergency vehicles taking up most of the spaces on the top couple levels, but we went down until there was an open slot for Simon to park in. Once the car was shut down and the music completely died out, my big brother exhaled audibly. ¡°Okay, first thing¡¯s first, they''re not going to let us in the same room with them. They don''t know how this shit is transferred or whatever. Not yet. The doctor I talked to on the phone said we''ll have to stay in the other room and see them through a window. And they¡¯re not exactly¡­¡± He trailed off, going silent for a moment before punching the steering wheel with his fist. Then he apologized. ¡°Sorry, sorry. What I mean is, they''re not going to be coherent or anything. The doctor said Mom is completely out. She says some stuff once in a while, but nothing coherent. And Dad just¡­ he''s conscious for now, but he isn''t coherent either. He''s just saying random stuff. Nothing that actually makes sense.¡±


    A part of me wondered just how dangerous it was for my parents in particular to be saying random shit. What if they said something that compromised their secrets? But on the other hand, the Ministry probably already would''ve taken care of that. I had no doubt that the people taking care of them were in on the secret. If nothing else, I was certain that Mom would have prepared for something that could have incapacitated them. Maybe not this specifically, but something.


    Simon finished up his explanation by telling us that if we didn''t want to actually see our parents like that, he''d go by himself until we were ready. And to be honest, seeing my brother act like this, trying to be so understanding and mature, kind of freaked me out even more. I wanted him to act the same as usual so I could believe that he thought things would be just fine. But the fact that he was being such a¡­ mature guy about the whole thing¡­ yeah, maybe it was weird to want him to be an immature jerk, but there we were.


    Obviously, we both said we were going in there. I did feel a pang of worry about just how bad this was going to be and how we were going to react to seeing them like that. My parents had always been completely in control of everything. Even more than I had known for most of my life, as it turned out. But even before I knew about the whole Ministry thing, they had been my emotional anchors. They always knew what to do or say, and the thought that they could possibly be as out of it as these people kept saying¡­ it almost made me want to take Simon¡¯s offer to not walk in there. But no, I had to go to them. I had to see it for myself.


    As we got out of the car and headed for the elevator, I idly wondered how Simon was going to explain the whole Silversmith thing. Then I realized that he probably wouldn''t need to. The people who knew that he was my father undoubtedly simply put him in the medical room as himself. I figured there was probably an empty room somewhere that was supposedly ¡®for Silversmith¡¯ that only people with clearance were able to go into. In other words, the people who would know why the room was actually empty. Or at least had enough clearance to not publicly question it. That¡¯s what I would¡¯ve done in their situation, anyway.


    We were met at the elevator by a dark-haired black man in a suit who introduced himself as Gus. He took us up to the third floor, a medical wing, and then through a maze of corridors. I could see doctors and nurses running back-and-forth in pairs and threes, talking on the phones, consulting clipboards and computer pads, and so on. The place was busy, to say the least. I hoped that meant they would find a cure for this whole thing just like that, but something told me it wouldn¡¯t be that easy. Pittman wouldn¡¯t have launched his attack like this if it was something that was that simple to cure. Not if he wanted to use it to escape Breakwater.


    We passed guards too, people who were obviously making sure the confidentiality and secrecy parts of the whole situation stayed intact. Only certain people were allowed in certain rooms. Several of them watched us closely as we passed various doors, each of which had a paper sign with the name of the Touched being treated within written in marker. They were clearly doing everything they could to maintain secret identities while continuing to give treatment. I wasn''t sure how well that was going to end up going, but at least they were trying.


    Finally, we passed through the doors with our parents'' names written on the paper, and ended up in an observation area. There was, as promised, a window looking into the main room itself. That place just looked like any ordinary hospital room, with two beds. My mother was laying on one, eyes closed as she squirmed and twitched fitfully, occasionally muttering under her breath or even shouting single words. Simon was right, none of it made sense. She was saying things like toaster and backgammon, just random words that didn¡¯t go together. Maybe she really was dreaming or something, I wasn¡¯t sure.


    My dad, on the other hand, was sitting up in bed, babbling about some adventure he had apparently gone on to fight Nazis with a whip. It took me a minute to realize he was recounting Raiders of the Lost Ark as though he was Indiana Jones. He was talking with exaggerated, almost wild motions, as though talking to a reporter.


    Seeing them like that, I put my hand against the glass and cringed a bit. ¡°Are they going to be okay?¡± I asked in a small, vulnerable voice. It made me wince at the sound. I hadn¡¯t intended to speak out loud.


    Simon, standing on one side of me while Izzy stood on the other, gave a short nod before putting his hand on my head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, girls. They¡¯ll be alright, I swear. Mom and Dad have the best people in the world looking after them, you know. Besides, they¡¯re gonna find whoever was responsible for this. And when they do, they¡¯ll get the cure out of him, one way or another.


    ¡°We¡¯ll make damn sure of it.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 19

    <div>


    The following is the 29th edition of Patreon Snippets. Each month, every Patreon </a>supporter who donates at least ten dollars per month receives at least five hundred words they can eventually toward any subject they would like to see written about (within reason), join their idea to others to make it longer, or hold it for future installments. Thanks go to them, as well as to all supporters, and to all readers


    What do some of the other Star-Touched in the city think of Avant-Guard?


    ¡°Okay, yes, you can call it a wild conspiracy theory if you want, that''s fair.¡± The person speaking was a thin black man who stood almost six feet, four inches tall. To most of the outside world, he was known as Skin-Head, a member of the state-level Spartans team of Star-Touched. Though at the moment he wasn''t wearing his costume, so he looked like any other black man enjoying a cup of coffee while sitting on a bench in the middle of the park early in the morning. Right now, he was simply Michael Edwards, an incredibly bland name for a man who preferred not to stand out in any way when he wasn¡¯t actively in costume, even if his height made that difficult.


    Nor did his companion, a blonde woman in her mid-twenties with pale skin and a rather athletic build, immediately give away her own identity as Versed. As a civilian, she was simply Aubree Dayson. Though she might have worn ordinary, unassuming clothing like him, their similarities didn¡¯t extend as far as drink choices. She chose tea rather than coffee, sipping from the cup while watching a couple joggers go past in the distance. ¡°Call it a wild conspiracy?¡± the woman echoed while shaking her head. ¡°You mean the part where you think Paintball and his new group might be up to something nefarious? Why on Earth would anyone call that a wild conspiracy?¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± the man immediately pointed out, ¡°I''m not saying they''re bad. Hell, they could be, it''s possible, but that''s not what I''m saying. All I mean is that they keep ending up being in the right place at the exact right time, so maybe they know something they''re not sharing, or they have an information source they¡¯re keeping secret. Maybe they have contacts in the gangs who are helping them out. Like this whole thing at the courthouse. What were the odds that they would just happen to go in right then for interviews and still be there when this whole thing went down? You know, the ¡®whole thing¡¯ that happened to involve the very same people they helped fight at the park in the first place just a couple days earlier.¡± He grimaced, taking another gulp of his coffee. ¡°Come on, you have to admit, it''s a little hard to see that and believe that it''s a complete coincidence. Especially--¡±


    ¡°Especially given we know Paintball works with people like Pack when it¡¯s convenient,¡± Aubree finished for him. ¡°Yeah, I know, I get that. So you''re saying you think they might have friends in other gangs, like the one that literally just moved to town, and that these friends completely gave away their entire scheme to Avant-Guard?¡±


    Michael shook his head. ¡°Maybe not with those guys, the ones who just got here, but they¡¯re not the only ones who¡¯re part of this new gang, remember? Devil¡¯s Due, Janus, and Juice all took some of their own men with them when they left the Easy Eights. Maybe Paintball or one of his buddies had a friend in that group.¡±


    Aubree was quiet for a moment before responding. ¡°And you think if they do have someone in one of those gangs who was feeding them information about that attack, they might''ve chosen to go there and be in the right place at the right time so they could get the glory rather than share that info with the rest of us.¡±


    Michael held up both hands. ¡°Not saying that it''s definite. But if they did, It''d be pretty screwed up, wouldn''t it?¡±


    Heaving a long sigh, the woman nodded. ¡°If it was true, it''d be really fucked up, yes. But it''s not. Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence. And just because they have contacts with one or two other gangs doesn¡¯t mean they have any with those guys. That¡¯s a bit of a reach, man. Especially when you think about what any of those Fells would do to anyone who was helping out Paintball. I mean seriously, you saw how much all those guys hate him. And considering what happened over the last couple days, the newcomers are probably just as pissed at Avant-Guard as the old ones. And I don¡¯t think Paintball¡¯s the type of person to allow a little kid like Lightning Bug to end up in danger or let all those guards die just for glory.¡± She grimaced somewhat to herself. ¡°Sometimes the simplest answer is the right one. And the simplest answer to this situation is that they just happened to be there. It was a coincidence.¡±


    As she was saying that, a frisbee came flying in to land nearby. Seeing a couple girls come after it, Aubrey bent down to pick up the frisbee, holding it for a moment to allow her power to give her a decent level of skill with the thing. Then she sent it flying back that way, waving as one of them caught it. Which was enough for one of them to call out that she should join them since she seemed pretty good, and her boyfriend was welcome to come too.


    ¡°See that?¡± Aubrey pointed out in a quiet voice as she turned to face the man himself. ¡°You¡¯re not my boyfriend, but they made assumptions because we happen to be sitting together. If you don¡¯t know the whole story about a situation, you can make some big mistakes if you assume things. Especially if you assume the worst.¡±


    Michael chuckled softly despite himself, pushing off the bench. ¡°Yeah, sure, I get it. It¡¯s not like I think we should go out and arrest them or anything. It just might be worth keeping our eyes open and paying a bit more attention to what they¡¯re doing, just in case.¡±


    The two of them stopped talking about that for a bit, while going over to introduce themselves to the frisbee players. Though Michael introduced himself as Carl, while Aubree was Lena. And they did nothing to correct the assumption that they were romantically involved. Quite the opposite, really, given they referred to one another as their fiance, and had the rings to back that up. Which was all nonsense, given the two would never actually be together that way. Michael/Skin-Head played for the wrong team, and Aubree/Versed wasn¡¯t even involved in the sport, having realized she was asexual and aromantic around the same time that she¡¯d Touched.


    All of which was to say, they didn¡¯t have any interest in each other that way. But the two frisbee playing girls, and the rest of their group, didn¡¯t know that. They simply made assumptions that the two Star-Touched were more than willing to take advantage of. Neither Aubree nor Michael felt the slightest twinge about lying to these people, considering the whole frisbee group belonged to one of the currently loyal Easy Eight factions. None were important to the gang in any way beyond being what amounted to quite low-level thugs, but one of them was the sibling, cousin, or friend of Pivotal, and that guy had some pretty¡­ well, pivotal information about the disappearance of the son of a friend of Aubree¡¯s. As far as the authorities were concerned, the son had run away on his own, but her friend didn¡¯t believe that, so Aubree didn¡¯t either. She was convinced Pivotal knew something about it, but couldn¡¯t get official resources to go after him. Not on this, anyway. Michael had agreed to help her with this undercover bit, especially if it gave them the opportunity to potentially grab an important Fell-Touched right out from under Deicide while she was still reeling from losing three others to betrayal. And, of course, because he wanted to help his friend and teammate.


    In any case, their attempts to infiltrate that area of the gang so they could find out what really happened to Aubree¡¯s friend¡¯s son weren¡¯t going to pay off immediately. This was simply their first contact, and as far as that went, the meeting had gone pretty well. They played some frisbee in the park and talked a bit, giving just enough information about their fake lives to make the two of them seem like potentially decent recruits. The next part would come soon enough. As important as the whole situation was, if they pushed too hard too quickly, they wouldn¡¯t get anything at all. So, they had to play it at least somewhat cool. Deicide had to be hungry for new recruits, but coming on too strong or seeming too good to be true was bound to get the wrong sort of attention. They just wanted to look like a couple of potentially good nobodies to help fill out the gang¡¯s diminished ranks.


    Following that little ¡®incidental¡¯ meeting (Aubree had watched the group play frisbee in that area twice before and the disc had ended up near that bench at some point both times), the two of them took a ride in Michael¡¯s car, watching to see if they were tailed. Neither expected to be at this early stage, but you never knew for sure. Not where these gangs were concerned.


    Only once they were as certain as they could be that no one was following them did Aubree shift the conversation back to what they had been talking about before. ¡°Okay, so let¡¯s go through what we know about Avant-Guard. Starting with the guy in charge. He put them together.¡±


    ¡°Paintball showed up first, that¡¯s for sure,¡± Michael agreed. ¡°And I think it¡¯s safe to say he was by himself for the first bit, through most of that whole search for Blackjack¡¯s missing vials. Didn¡¯t have anyone else in the field with him, anyway. And going by the reports the Minority filed when he showed up to save that guy who was kidnapped by Janus, he wasn¡¯t interested in working with anyone else or joining up officially.¡±


    ¡°If I recall correctly,¡± Aubree noted, ¡°they said he seemed nice enough, but standoffish. A couple said he might¡¯ve been nervous about something. But that could¡¯ve just been because he was new. Though even that¡¯s a bit iffy.¡±


    Michael shook his head, scoffing while pulling the car to a stop at the red light. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you put any stock in that ¡®he¡¯s a Touched from out of the city who came here and that¡¯s how he learned so quickly¡¯ nonsense. The kid¡¯s just good at what he does. Or lucky. Both, probably.¡±


    ¡°I think both is a safe assumption given everything we¡¯ve seen,¡± Aubree agreed, leaning back in the seat to watch the pedestrians passing by. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, even if he¡¯s not another Touched in disguise or whatever, maybe he¡¯s had some training we don¡¯t know about. He is pretty good when it comes to getting around with that paint. Unless he¡¯s one of those Touched with the something extra up here.¡± She gestured toward her head. ¡°You know, like that whole thing with your skin just automatically hardening exactly as much as you need to deal with any impact if you know it¡¯s coming. Even if you don¡¯t consciously know how hard the impact is gonna be. Or That-A-Way knowing which direction she¡¯s moving.¡±


    ¡°You think Paintball has some sort of extra super-training power?¡± Michael paused, considering that while accelerating away from the stoplight. ¡°Gotta be honest, I¡¯m gonna stick with the kid just being good and lucky. I think he got thrown into the deep end with all this stuff and he¡¯s been doing the best he can to keep his head above water. He¡¯s learning by doing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, pull into the drive-thru here,¡± Aubree insisted, pointing toward a donut bakery. ¡°These guys have the best Boston Cream you¡¯ll ever have in your life.¡±


    ¡°Given we¡¯re not in Boston, I doubt that,¡± Michael retorted. ¡°But I might be willing to give them ¡®best in Detroit¡¯ as second prize. Maybe best in Michigan.¡±


    ¡°Boston snob,¡± Aubree shot back, smirking a little bit before adding, ¡°Okay, so going with the theory that he''s just good and lucky, do you think Paintball is totally a good guy on the up and up? He does seem pretty willing to work with some villains now and then. And he¡¯s pretty chummy with Pack from what we¡¯ve seen.¡±


    Michael pulled into line behind another car, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel thoughtfully. ¡°There¡¯s different sorts of bad guys. From everything I¡¯ve seen, Paintball knows what side he¡¯s on when it really comes down to it. Sure, he works with Pack, but considering they were trying to save her boss¡¯s kid, can we really blame him for that? It¡¯s not even like the kid¡¯s just excusing all low-level crime, because he¡¯s helped stop random muggings, thefts, vandalism, all sorts of minor shit out there.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s kind of my point,¡± Aubree replied easily. ¡°If he¡¯s stopping those crimes but working with Pack, doesn¡¯t that mean he¡¯s picking and choosing which bad guys to go after?¡±


    Michael snorted at that. ¡°As if we don¡¯t pick and choose to focus on the real threats, and even give ¡®useful bad guys¡¯ a pass now and then. I don¡¯t know how you can--¡± He stopped then, squinting sidelong at her. ¡°You¡¯re playing devil¡¯s advocate, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    She grinned in return. ¡°Just seeing where you¡¯re sitting. But anyway, enough about him. He¡¯s a good kid, maybe makes some mistakes, but gets lucky. What about the rest of that group?¡±


    ¡°Well the only one we know for sure goes into the field and has powers is the marble girl,¡± Michael replied, before falling silent as they pulled up to the intercom to place their order. Only once they had pulled away from it and he could roll up his window again did the man continue that thought. ¡°Alloy--which to tell you the truth, makes me think Silversmith might have something to do with her. You think he¡¯s got any kids he might be giving some field time away from dear old dad''s reputation?¡±


    Aubrey considered that for a few seconds while they picked up their donuts from the window and began to drive away. It wasn¡¯t until she¡¯d chewed and swallowed the first delicious bite that she finally spoke again. ¡°Considering everything we''ve heard about him, and seen for ourselves, if any Star-Touched in the city was going to have a secret kid he sent out in the field and pretended not to know, it''s probably him. I mean, it would explain their powers being relatively similar, right? Sometimes kids inherit powers that are mutations from the parents instead of Touching for themselves. If her version of his power just happened to manifest like that--or if she¡¯s pretending it did¡­¡±


    ¡°You mean if the whole marble thing is made up to throw people off?¡± Michael reached out to take one of the donuts from the box for himself, chewing thoughtfully for the next few seconds. ¡°I suppose it''s possible she could just create stuff out of nothing like he does, or maybe she''s more limited in the amount she can use, and uses the marbles to avoid comparisons with her dad. If he is her dad. Or uncle, he could be her uncle. And it would explain some of their resources and training, if Silversmith¡¯s secretly helping out even just a little bit. Hell, it seems like Paintball didn''t start getting all this extra help until Alloy showed up anyway, and then suddenly he''s got a whole team with him? You know, I think we might be onto something.¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Right?¡± Aubrey gave a quick nod. ¡°Like, we know Paintball had some sort of Techy working with him before. It¡¯s that little girl with the wings who showed up at that one zombie fight. She had to be the one who made that automated suit they stuffed whatshisface into so he¡¯d lead them to those vials. But now she''s got all those suits and special guns and stuff to outfit the whole team with? Four new people, all with their own equipment. The resources for that sort of start-up have to come from somewhere. Silversmith would have the sort of contacts it takes for that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a fair point,¡± Michael agreed. ¡°And from what I''ve heard from others on the Conservators, he hasn''t really been pushing very hard to try to recruit any of them. That would fit with her being his kid that he''s trying to let have some experience of her own without being connected to him. Or maybe she insisted.¡± Tapping the steering wheel thoughtfully again, he added, ¡°If that''s true, do you think he had this in mind from the beginning? I mean, as soon as Paintball started showing up. He might have been waiting to have someone his daughter could work with before letting her go out in the field.


    Aubrey considered while eating another doughnut. In the end, she nodded. ¡°You know, I think that sounds right. He probably waited until that--what was her name--Trevor something? The tech chick. He waited until she and Paintball were established so he could see how good they''d be at partnering with his kid and then offered support.¡±


    ¡°Trevithick,¡± Michael informed her. ¡°The guy who invented the steam train or whatever. So what about the other four? Do you think they''re just Alloy¡¯s friends he¡¯s been helping train and outfit or something?¡±


    Aubrey offered a shrug. ¡°I mean, that would make sense too, wouldn''t it? It fits with the timing and all. Especially if he offered resources to Trevithick, and people for her to outfit and test her inventions with. I don''t think-- hang on.¡± She frowned, looking out of the passenger window at a few men who seemed to be forcing a woman and her daughter into an alley nearby. ¡°Looks like trouble.¡±


    Michael nodded in agreement while pulling the car to a stop along the curb. The touch of a button on his side made both of their seats drop back to put the pair into a lying-down position as the automated system in the heavily-modified vehicle quickly dressed the pair in their costumes within a few seconds. Michael''s was easy enough. Most of his skin was exposed, leaving the man wearing simple, baggy black shorts and tennis shoes, along with a metal band around his face which covered the area from his mouth up to his eyes and had a pair of black lenses.


    Aubrey, meanwhile, wore skin-tight dark green pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, along with black gloves and boots, and a green bandana mask over the top half of her face. Her eyes were also covered by a pair of dark goggles. Her appearance, specifically the way she tended to play it up and flirt with people, was another layer of protection. Her civilian self had less than zero interest in such things, so she was less likely to be identified.


    And just like that, the pair weren¡¯t Michael and Aubree anymore. Not for this. Now they were Skin-Head and Versed. With a quick nod to one another, they popped their doors open and stepped out, starting to move toward the alley the other group had forced the woman and her child into. Within a few steps, Skin-Head raised his arm, extending the skin from it into a long tentacle shape all the way to the roof of the nearby building. It wrapped around an air conditioning unit up there, before pulling the man up that way.


    Versed, meanwhile, unsnapped the sleek, futuristic-looking pistol from one of her legs, flipping the weapon over in the air smoothly before catching it. Her powers allowed her to understand how to use any object she touched, with the level of skill she had depending on how long she held the item, up to the level of a complete master. She could only retain mastery-level skill of up to five objects at a time, and guns were one of those five. That skill applied to anything that could be considered a gun, from the smallest pistol to enormous rifles and everything in between. And it applied to Touched-Tech versions of guns, including this one. It had a multitude of settings, from a concussive beam, to a heat ray, to a disorienting wide-spread blast, and many others. Considering all the various settings it had and the way each type of attack it produced changed its effective range, the way that attack behaved, and so forth, it would have been difficult for most people to use the pistol effectively. But Versed¡¯s power-provided mastery of the weapon meant she always knew exactly which buttons to use to get the effect she wanted. As it did for literally any other gun she ever picked up, no matter how obtuse its designer made the use of it. Which included unlocking any special security measures they had included within it.


    At that particular moment, she pressed a quick selection of the small buttons along one side of the gun, waiting until it gave an answering thrum of acknowledgment in her hand. Then the woman stepped around the corner, raising the weapon while clearly calling out, ¡°This is the Spartans, everyone freeze!¡±


    They didn''t, of course. The men whirled around and raised their own guns. But she had been ready for that. A simple pull of the trigger sent a red blast all the way down through the alley. It was wide enough to fill the entire space, and the moment it struck any object matching the physical description of a gun, knife, or other similar weapons that had been programmed into the thing, that item was instantly heated up to a painful degree, forcing the men to yelp and drop their weapons.


    Disarmed as they were, they turned to flee down the alley, shoving the woman and her daughter aside. But they ended up running right into Skin-Head, who dropped down in front of them. One, clearly without even paying attention to who the person blocking their way was, threw a wild punch. He then proceeded to yelp in pain, stumbling a bit as he clutched his hand while the black man stood utterly unaffected. Well, not utterly. He did smile faintly. ¡°Hey there,¡± the man greeted them.


    ¡°It¡¯s about to be a very bad day for you.¡±


    Soon enough, the situation was handled and the men were being taken away. Back in Michael¡¯s car, the pair took a moment to collect themselves. Aubree glanced toward her teammate with a small smirk. ¡°Well, that was fun. What were we talking about? Oh right, the other four members of Avant-Guard. Those first two, Calvin and Hobbes, they¡¯re clearly not as well-trained as the other two, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Michael agreed. ¡°I¡¯m betting those two are Alloy¡¯s friends, and the other two are people Silversmith brought in to protect them. They haven¡¯t shown any powers, anyway. Maybe those other two, what was it, Poise and Style? Maybe they¡¯re trainees from one of those rapid-response candidate programs. They pull from some of those private schools.¡±


    Aubree considered that. ¡°I guess that would make sense. Smith would have access to those records. Maybe he recruited a couple to come over and help out his kid. They start training pretty early, so it¡¯d explain why they seem so young. Maybe we should check the records and see if anyone who matches those descriptions quit or has been preoccupied recently?¡±


    With a slow nod, Michael began to pull the car away from the curb. ¡°Maybe we should. Just to make sure Smith isn¡¯t using resources he shouldn¡¯t be.¡± As he spoke, the man used his left hand to type on the phone hidden from Aubree by his body. He sent a simple message.


    Minister Gold - confirmed she doesn¡¯t know the identities of anyone on AG. Planted theory about P&S being from training program. She¡¯ll check into without leading back to Ministry. Will keep informed if she finds anything useful.


    *******


    A look at the political side of what happened with Breakwater


    Sitting in her office in the Russell Building (so-named for Senator Richard B. Russell, who had served for thirty-nine years from 1932 to 1971) in the Capitol complex, Senator Dana Lowery held a cell phone to her ear and snapped, ¡°I don''t care how evasive they''re being. Find out the truth, no matter how many arms you have to twist. Remind those people of just how quickly their whole system will fall apart if the US pulls our support. If we¡¯re not in, plenty of others will pull out too. And yes, that is absolutely on the table at this point.¡±


    As she was speaking, the woman glanced toward her own reflection in the nearby window. She was young for a senator, a mere forty-one years of age. And thanks to a rigorous exercise and diet regimen, she appeared to be several years younger than that. Her hair was blonde and short, while she had skin that was darkened through a mixture of outdoor activities and artificial tanning. She looked damn good, if she did say so herself. Even if there were dark circles under her eyes right now. It was to be expected, considering everything that was happening. She had been on the phone with various people for several hours by this point. Between that and all the calls her assistants had been placing and taking, she was almost surprised they hadn¡¯t burned out the cell tower already.


    After another minute or so on this particular call, Dana disconnected and tossed the phone onto the desk before leaning back to stretch her arms over her head with a long sigh. Of course this was the job she had dreamed of for so long, since she had been a small child. But some days she wondered if it would have been easier to just write a few books or something. Much less stressful anyway.


    A knock came at her door then, before one of her assistants, a young but very enthusiastic girl named Cheryl, poked her head in. ¡°Hey boss, Carl just called from upstairs. He says Deckert and Larson are onboard. But we still don¡¯t have the numbers to make a serious push at withdrawing from the agreement with Breakwater. Even with two Stars and a civilian trapped over there, the optics for completely pulling out of that and having to deal with our own top threats are too bad.¡±


    Rising from her desk, Dana shook her head. ¡°That''s okay, we don''t really want to withdraw anyway. Sure, they lied to us and we absolutely need to slap their hands for that. But dropping out entirely? No one¡¯s going to back that. Not when doing so would mean offering their own state up as a place to house these people. We just need enough voices to make those Breakwater assholes think it''s a real possibility, especially if they keep jerking us around like this. They need to think we won''t be the first ones to blink in this little game of chicken.¡± As she spoke, the woman grabbed her light blue jacket from the nearby hook. ¡°Come on, we''ve got to pay a visit to Adkins.¡±


    Cheryl made a face. ¡°Speaking of assholes, he¡¯s one of the biggest. And he smells like it too.¡±


    Dana chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, but let¡¯s keep that inside this office. Ken Adkins may be a piece of shit, but he¡¯s got power and he knows how to use it. I¡¯d hate to lose my best aide because she gave that man reason to start complaining.¡±


    Blushing under the compliment, Cheryl accompanied her boss out of the office, past the dozen other assistants who were busy working the phones, and out into the main hall. From there,they made their way down the hall to what looked like an elevator from the outside. Not so long ago, those doors really would have led to an elevator, and the two of them would have needed to take that down to the miniature ¡®subway¡¯ line that connected the Russell building to the actual Capitol. The train itself had actually been known as a ¡®people mover,¡¯ which was only a couple of cars long, and wasn¡¯t enclosed. The whole thing looked more like a ride at a carnival or something, but it worked well enough to ferry members of Congress to various buildings. Or it had worked well enough, until the building was upgraded several years earlier.


    Technically, the upgrade could have been done years before that even, but various complications and complaints had kept the new system from being implemented while people who didn¡¯t trust Touched, or new technology, or who simply preferred things stayed the same, gradually lost power. But now, when Dana reached out to touch her thumb against the print reader, it didn¡¯t immediately open into an elevator. Instead, part of the metal door slid aside to reveal a touchscreen with a menu on it, which included a list of all the possible places her clearance level allowed her to go. Ignoring her own apartments both here in DC and back home, as well as several close colleagues¡¯ offices, her emergency bunker, and a few other locations throughout Capitol Hill and beyond, the woman instead touched the option for a spot on the second floor of the nearby Capitol that was nearest her actual destination. Immediately, the doors slid open, revealing the hallway they were aiming for. With a small smile of satisfaction at the convenience the new system allowed, Dana stepped through with her assistant. The doors closed behind them, waiting for the next person to need direct transport anywhere they were permitted to go. It really was so much better and more convenient than riding a tiny train.


    It only took Dana a second to notice the person she had come up here looking for. As expected, the silver-haired man with wire-rimmed glasses and a slightly overweight figure was speaking with a reporter and cameraman in the hallway. Because why wouldn¡¯t he be? Even from here, she could hear his firm declaration about how they were going to absolutely rescue the missing heroes and civilian from that terrible prison island, and that heads would roll for keeping this secret from the American people, and blah blah blah.


    Taking a breath, she squeezed Cheryl¡¯s shoulder to signal for her to stay back, then stepped up that way to put herself directly beside the camera-loving man. Her voice was the perfect mix of cheerful and somber, showing enthusiasm and optimism, but also carefully reserved outrage. ¡°Senator Pichole is absolutely correct, and I am so glad that he and the rest of my colleagues across the aisle can work together with us on this issue. What matters now isn¡¯t our petty politics, but bringing Flea, Trivial, and that poor woman they went to rescue home where they belong.¡±


    There was a brief exchange with the reporter, who jumped on the opportunity to interview her as well, before both senators excused themselves and walked toward Pichole¡¯s office. On the way, once they were far enough from the media people, Dana crooked a finger for Cheryl to join them while speaking up. ¡°Shall I take it that this means you''re going to stop pussyfooting around and sign on to our measures?¡±


    Herbert Pichole chuckled. ¡°Your measures that technically do nothing of import, you mean? You may get the votes you need, if I sign on, to take it out of committee. But there is absolutely no way in hell you''ll get sixty votes in the full chamber. You won''t even get a majority. Name a single state whose people are going to willingly say, ¡®sure, go ahead and bring all those murderous piece of shit super villains here to our state. We''d love for our tax money to go toward containing and feeding them.¡¯¡±


    While saying that, the man opened the door into his outer office area. Like Dana¡¯s, there were a dozen or more people busy working the phones and computers to manage all the calls coming in. But this one was much grander and larger than hers. A product of his longer time serving in Congress. But not for long. She had her eyes on an office even grander than this one. Someday, this place would seem quaint.


    Dana ignored that thought however, and walked with the man past all his own people to his own private office. Like the outer one, it was twice the size of hers. Motioning for Cheryl to wait out there, she stepped into that inner sanctum, and allowed the door to close behind her. Only then did she speak up. ¡°Sure, you¡¯re absolutely right. No senator is going to want to be the one who says ¡®let''s put those people in our state.¡¯ The fallout would be positively nuclear. But you know as well as I do that it won¡¯t actually come to that. We just need to show a united front. United enough that Breakwater considers it a possibility. Maybe not that we¡¯ll bring our criminals back here, but that we might go looking for other solutions. Solutions that don''t involve them.¡±


    The man''s smile was unconvincing. However good, he might''ve been at convincing his voters that he was sincere, he either couldn''t convey that feeling to her, or he didn''t care enough to try. Either way, he simply replied, ¡°And yet, it is your territory that would suffer the most embarrassment if this measure was to fall through, isn''t it? After all, you are serving the great state of Michigan, where the poor victims of this whole unfortunate situation are from. So it''s you who needs this more than me.¡±


    Dana sighed and made an acquiescing motion with one hand. ¡°Just get to the point. What do you want?¡±


    So, he informed her. His support of the bill that would begin to strip support for Breakwater, which would fail or be withdrawn anyway as soon as the prison produced those three missing women, in exchange for pushing several companies to build their new Touched tech facilities in his own home state. Being the senator from Michigan, which had become the center of so much of that work over the past couple decades, Dana had a great deal of say over that sort of thing. As did her senior senator. But she suspected he already had that blowhard''s backing.


    Either way, she agreed, and he promised to signal support at their next committee meeting that afternoon. Once it was done, Dana left with Cheryl, and as they were walking down the hall, she asked the girl, ¡°Have they called yet?¡±


    Cheryl nodded, holding up her phone. Dana took it and held the phone to her ear. ¡°Yes, Minister White, we''re at the next step. Of course, ma¡¯am. That''s what matters.


    ¡°After all, we''re all on the same side.¡±

 Interlude 26A - Paige And Sierra

    ¡°We have to kill him.¡± As she made that flat announcement, Sierra stood in the kitchen of the Banners household, staring at her other self, her sister, her¡­ whatever Paige actually was at this point. She had been the person Sierra--then Roxanne, had been intended to replace. She had hated the girl, had been created to hate her. They had hated one another, and had fought for quite some time within that single orb. Her job, her purpose, had been to erase Paige and replace her. She had thought that their father, Benjamin Pittman, actually cared about her. She thought he would be proud of her for doing her job properly, unlike the ¡®traitor¡¯ she was replacing. But in the end, she had been just as expendable to him as Paige was. Between that and the acceptance she had found here with these people, the newly-dubbed Sierra already held nothing but hatred and disgust for the man she had once been loyal to.


    But now? Now he had gone too far. It was hard for her to admit it, but Sierra had been looking forward to meeting Irelyn. She had memories from Paige about the other girl, but they weren¡¯t really hers. She had truly wanted to get to know the girl who was essentially as close to a ¡®big sister¡¯ as either of them had, even if Irelyn wouldn¡¯t have been able to know the truth about her.


    And to be honest, Sierra had been pretty sure it wouldn¡¯t take long for them to tell Irelyn the truth. Or for the other girl to figure out there was more to be told. She wasn¡¯t dumb, after all. Especially after everything she had obviously been through already. Something would have happened to make them tell her who Sierra really was. And she had been looking forward to that, secretly.


    But now--fuck. Now Pittman had retaliated by setting off a biological attack, killing Paige¡¯s adopted parents--Irelyn¡¯s birth parents-- and about a dozen others, as well as putting Irelyn, Cassidy¡¯s parents, and thirty-seven more into various stages of coma and/or delirium. Or whatever it was called when they were completely mentally absent and lost in some sort of fantasy or nightmare world. The point was, even the survivors were either unconscious or mentally absent, not to mention quarantined. And who the hell knew how long it would take for them to recover, if they even did. Sierra didn¡¯t want to say that outloud in front of Cassidy and the others for obvious reasons, but there was a chance all of them would die. Including Irelyn.


    Paige, for her part, simply gripped the sink she had been facing tightly enough to almost snap part of it off. She was staring intently into her own reflection in the metal faucet. ¡°You mean our father. You want to kill Benjamin Pittman, while he¡¯s on an island we can¡¯t get to.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that, yes we can,¡± Sierra pointed out. ¡°He told us where to go down in Utah to find that equipment for the teleporter thing, remember? Between that and the genius kid with her movement specialty, we can totally set something up to get over there, track that son of a bitch down and deal with this once and for all, the way someone should have a long time ago. If they just killed him before, none of this would''ve happened.¡±


    ¡°And you wouldn¡¯t exist,¡± Paige pointed out mildly, releasing the counter as she turned to face the other girl. ¡°But you''re right, we do need to do something about it. He went too far.¡± Her voice caught a bit and she closed her eyes before taking a breath and opening them once more. ¡°We have to find a cure for whatever that stuff is. It¡¯s the only way to help Irelyn and the others, the ones who survived. Like Cassidy¡¯s parents.¡±


    ¡°Is she gonna tell people where this shit came from and who was responsible?¡± Sierra demanded. ¡°That''s probably the best way to get actual help for them, isn''t it? You know, let the doctors know the source or whatever.¡±


    ¡°It couldn¡¯t hurt,¡± Paige agreed. ¡°The problem is they''re getting hundreds of tips, so we''re not sure how to get the info to them other than her showing up as a Paintball and telling the doctors directly, but that would open up a whole bunch more questions, especially if they actually listen.¡±


    Sierra glanced away, frowning thoughtfully at her own reflection in the glass stove. It was distorted, but she could still see the intense similarities between herself and the girl they were talking about. ¡°She wants to do it anyway, doesn¡¯t she? It¡¯s her parents. So how¡¯d you talk her out of it?¡±


    ¡°We talked ourselves out of it together,¡± Paige informed her. ¡°Mostly because we don¡¯t think it would be that useful. The doctors have the samples to work off of. Telling them where it came from--it could lead to Breakwater dragging Pittman in to interrogate to try to make him give up a cure, but--¡±


    ¡°But that could be exactly what he wants,¡± Sierra finished. ¡°He could have done this whole thing assuming they pull him off the island to make a cure and he could escape from there. Hell, he might even already have people in place to make that happen.¡±


    Paige nodded. ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s obvious that he¡¯s been planning this, or something like it, for awhile. That¡¯s why the Banners disappeared for so long. He was probably having his people create this biological weapon inside them for that whole time. He had a backup plan to get himself off the island. Probably more than one, and this was a big part of it. He wants all of us to just react emotionally and have him brought out of there to make a cure.¡±


    Wincing, Sierra asked, ¡°Do you think he knows about Cassidy being Paintball, and the ¡®guy¡¯ he¡¯s been talking to on the phone? Could he have deliberately targeted her parents?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he needs to know about that to deliberately target them,¡± Paige pointed out. ¡°He knows they¡¯re the Ministry, the leaders of the Ministry even. He hates them for what happened to Anthony and his parents, since they were supposed to fund his research and all that. I¡¯m pretty sure he targeted them because he expected the rest of the Ministry to react as soon as we told them who was responsible. He wants us to reveal his identity to the authorities and for the Ministry to find out, help yank him off that island, and then¡­ well, then he can do whatever the rest of his plan for escaping is. But what matters is, he obviously wants us to react emotionally. That¡¯s why he called us, so we would be absolutely certain he was responsible.¡±


    ¡°If he wants an emotional reaction, I¡¯ll show him an emotional reaction,¡± Sierra snapped. ¡°By breaking every bone in his fucking body.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t even know you exist,¡± Paige pointed out. ¡°I mean, that you still exist. Which is a good thing. We might be able to use that when we do--I mean¡­ obviously we have to confront him at some point. This whole thing--you¡¯re right, we have to go there and find him. We have to deal with this. But he¡¯s probably expecting that too. If we don¡¯t immediately have the authorities drag him off the island, he¡¯ll expect us to use that equipment to go there, and he¡¯ll be ready.¡±


    Sierra gestured idly with one hand. ¡°That¡¯s why we get the kid to modify it. He probably expects us to show up right where he wants us, but she can adjust it to move us somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Even if we do that,¡± Paige reminded her, ¡°he probably still has verbal codes to take control of us. How much good could we possibly do there if he can just say something to shut us down or even make us hurt our friends? You know, the whole reason Cassidy doesn¡¯t let us hear him on the phone. I know we¡¯ve been trying to expunge all that extra programming, but I¡¯m not completely positive that I¡¯ve found all of it, are you?¡±


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Sierra¡¯s mouth opened, before she caught herself and gave a heavy sigh, followed by several curses. ¡°Fine, no, I¡¯m not positive. Not completely. But we¡¯ve gotta do something about that son of a bitch, Paige. Look at what he''s been able to do while trapped on an inescapable prison island! He¡¯s still got people working for him, not to mention the Biolems he must still have access to. Being trapped on Breakwater slowed him down, but it hasn¡¯t stopped him. He¡¯s just going to keep doing shit like this until someone kills him. I say we stop waiting and find a way to make that happen.¡±


    Paige met her gaze for several long seconds before exhaling. ¡°Yeah, we do need to end this. Let¡¯s just be careful about it and take the whole thing one step at a time, okay? We don¡¯t want to blunder right into his trap just because we¡¯re pissed off.¡±


    Sierra made a fist and punched it into her palm hard enough to hurt. ¡°So what exactly are we going to do? And I swear to fuck, if you say ¡®sit and wait¡­¡¯¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really in a waiting mood either,¡± Paige informed her. ¡°But I am in a ¡®don''t make things worse¡¯ mood. So the first thing we do is give ourselves options. Starting with that teleporter. You¡¯re right, we need it. We¡¯ll go down to Utah and bring it back for the kid to look at, after we make sure Dad didn¡¯t leave any tra--¡± She thought better of her words and amended, ¡°After we remove the traps Dad definitely left on it. Maybe we¡¯ll end up going there to¡­ finish this problem ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Cassidy¡¯s gonna want to go,¡± Sierra pointed out. ¡°He put both of her parents in the hospital. You really think she''s going to be okay with what we have to do?¡±


    ¡°I don''t want her to be okay with it.¡± Paige¡¯s head shook. ¡°Cassidy¡­ Cassidy needs to stay the person she is. She can help a lot of people. Not just with her power, but with who she is, everything she is. She just needs to get better, stronger, all that without changing everything about her. When Anthony died, it--¡± She grimaced, glancing away. ¡°Cassidy almost fell apart. But she would have gotten better. She was getting better. She was starting to move on. But then they erased her memory. They didn''t give her the chance to finish processing it. It''s been stuck in the back of her mind this whole time. She''s been feeling that pain, even if she didn''t know where it was coming from. That''s why she didn''t have any close friends, why she kept everybody at arm''s length. She never had the chance to go through all the stages of grief and move on. They erased the memory and by doing that, they took away her chance to understand and accept it. Now that she knows the truth, she''s started to get better, started to heal that damage inside that she didn''t even know was there before. But she still needs time. And now if her parents die, or even one of them, I don¡¯t know what¡¯ll happen. All I do know is that I don¡¯t want to find out.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t just want to go there to kill him,¡± Sierra guessed.


    ¡°No.¡± Paige turned to walk out of the kitchen, heading for the elevator that would lead down into the main workout gym. ¡°I want to force him to tell us what he was planning to do to cure these people, including Irelyn and Cassidy¡¯s parents.¡±


    Following the other biolem girl, Sierra demanded, ¡°And what do you plan to do about that whole programming thing you were talking about? You know, the thing where he can shut us off with a couple words.¡±


    Paige grimaced. ¡°Well, my first instinct is to say we don''t give him a chance to say any words. But I suppose we have to let him talk at some point.¡±


    The elevator door opened then, allowing both girls to step off and walk into the gym itself. It was larger than what most would consider a ¡®home gym¡¯ to be, with enough space for a full wrestling or martial arts mat, three stationary bikes, an elliptical machine, and a treadmill taking up one half to the left of the elevator doors, while the right half of the room was filled with two rowing machines, a Touched-Tech bench press with the capacity to simulate weight up to several thousand pounds, and another mat about three-quarters the size of the other, this one surrounded by racks full of various melee weaponry. Some lethal, some not.


    ¡°What about the suits the kid put together for us?¡± Sierra noted, moving to take a bo staff from the weapon racks before spinning it around behind her back and around again. ¡°The ones for Poise and Style, I mean. She could probably upgrade those to go selectively deaf whenever they hear his voice. We don¡¯t have to hear his explanation about how to cure that shit he made, we just have to beat it out of him. Someone else can do the actual listening part.¡±


    Taking another staff, Paige tapped it against her palm thoughtfully before taking a ready stance. The two of them nodded to one another, then went into a series of strikes and counterstrikes. To any outsiders, it would look as though they were seriously trying to injure each other. But of course, they were both simply that fast, and that good. They had to be, with the programming and enhancements they¡¯d had. This full speed, full contact sparring was relaxing for the two of them. Or at least as relaxing as anything could be considering the circumstances.


    ¡°Yeah, you''ve got a point. If Wren can make the suits stop us from hearing anything he says, that''ll help,¡± Paige finally agreed after they had been sparring for a minute, both trying to get at least some of their aggression and excess energy out. ¡°But we¡¯ll need some backups for that. Special earplugs just in case we lose the suit, something to shut us down if Dad still manages to corrupt or control us, stuff like that. And we¡¯ll need to figure out who else is actually going.¡±


    The two of them talked a bit more about what they were going to have to get ready for that trip, but most of the planning would have to happen with the rest of the team. For now, it was time for Paige to go to the Conservators building again, this time as herself, and see how Irelyn was doing now that the doctors had agreed to let some people in. Part of her didn¡¯t want to go in there and see the older girl like that until they had a cure, but she couldn¡¯t put it off that long. Besides, at the very least, seeing Irelyn would steady Paige¡¯s resolve about what had to happen.


    Maybe if she was angry enough at her father, the thought of confronting him wouldn¡¯t terrify her so much.


    **********


    They wouldn''t let her all the way into the same room as Irelyn. There were still too many questions about how this stuff was transferred between victims. Instead, Paige had to stand on one side of a window looking into the hospital room where the other girl was lying on a bed. She kept muttering things that didn''t seem to make sense. Words like circus, boxes, coat, library, and other completely random things like that. The best the doctors could tell was that she and the others in the same condition were deep in some sort of dream state, and they were simply saying the things they saw. Or possibly the things they wanted, it wasn¡¯t clear. Either way, they definitely weren¡¯t resting soundly, given the way Irelyn kept twitching and jerking against the bed.


    Seeing her like that, as well as what she had heard from Cassidy about her own parents¡¯ conditions, made Paige tighten her hands into fists. Her father. He was the one responsible for this. All because he wanted to trick them into letting him out of that prison island so he could cure it. But there was no way in hell they were going to let that happen. If he could do this much damage from inside that place, the thought of what he could do if he was outside was enough to make her shudder.


    No, they would get it out of him some other way, even if they had to start breaking bones until he coughed up the solution. Not that that was a prospect she was exactly afraid of. She just¡­ she wanted to have a plan. If they went barging into that place and he managed to regain control of Sierra and her, Paige knew he¡¯d never let them go again. He¡¯d reprogram them, probably make them hurt their friends. And he¡¯d--he¡¯d find out about Cassidy. He¡¯d make her hurt--no. No more. Never again. She would have been happy enough to leave the man there on that island forever. But now he had proven that wasn¡¯t enough. He hurt Irelyn. He killed the people who--okay they had never really been parents to her, no more than he himself had been. But they had still adopted and raised her, in a manner of speaking. He murdered Irelyn¡¯s parents in a way that put the other girl herself, and Cassidy¡¯s parents in danger. And killed all those other people in the process, to say nothing of the ones currently affected who could still die.


    Including Irelyn, Sterling, and Elena. If any of them died¡­


    No, they would go to Utah, grab this teleportation thing, go to the island, and get answers out of her father. And then, once they got everything they needed out of him, she would make sure he was never a threat to Cassidy, or anyone else she cared about again.


    Don¡¯t worry, Irelyn, she thought to herself while staring at the squirming, whimpering figure in the bed. I¡¯ll take care of this.


    I¡¯ll get the cure out of my father, and then I¡¯ll kill him.

 Interlude 26B - Unlikely Alliance

    ¡°I can''t believe we''re stuck here,¡±  Lexi Chambers announced while feeding quarters into a vending machine. She hit a couple buttons to make a selection for a chocolate bar before adding, ¡°Or that Mom and Dad are stuck out of here.¡±


    Standing a few feet away as his gaze swept over the half-filled parking lot of the mall they were standing in front of, Zed replied, ¡°Isn''t this what we wanted?¡± He grimaced as soon as the words had left his mouth. ¡°I mean, being able to stay here and see this whole thing through. Not the part where the mysterious biological attack knocked out like the heroes in the city right when it''s turning into even more of a warzone. We uhh, we could¡¯ve done without that part. If I ever find that monkey, I¡¯m taking all of his paws.¡± A moment of silence followed before the boy grimaced. ¡°That sounded dark, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    Jae, sitting on a nearby bench as she stared intently at her phone, spoke up. ¡°Your parents haven''t had any luck breaking the lockdown rules, even with their contacts?¡±


    Zed shook his head. ¡°This whole thing goes way over their heads. Whatever caused this attack--err, whoever was responsible, they haven''t claimed credit or made any demands. No one knows how this stuff actually spreads, or who else might be infected. They think it¡¯s because of the Breakwater thing, obviously, but no one knows how, or why, or anything. It¡¯s terrorism. Plus a bunch of other people interacted with those¡­ carriers before they got to the headquarters building. And those people interacted with others and--¡± He grimaced, watching a woman walk by pushing a stroller with a babbling infant.


    Colt-Damarko, the one who was solid at the moment while his other selves remained scattered around in their invisible forms, approached with bags of food, which he began handing out. ¡°He¡¯s right, Detroit¡¯s gonna be locked down until they¡¯ve got a better idea of how to detect whatever this is. So far only the people who were in the building have shown symptoms, but they won¡¯t take any chances. The roads in and out of the city are blocked and monitored, and the airports are completely shut down. I don''t know how long they can keep this up, but no one''s going anywhere for now. Your parents won¡¯t be getting into the city until this situation gets taken care of.¡±


    ¡°So let¡¯s take care of our situation,¡± Lexi put in sharply. ¡°I mean, obviously we can''t do anything about that bio attack. That''s way beyond us. But we''ve got our own stuff to deal with, like finding the people who were trying to abduct us.¡± She gestured between herself and her brother. ¡°Maybe if we deal with this ourselves while we''re stuck here, Mom and Dad will see that we''re not helpless babies and let us actually start helping people.¡±


    Jae and Colt exchanged brief looks, each feeling like they should say something about that, but not quite knowing how to go about it. Instead, Jae finally shook her head and asked, ¡°How long until we''re supposed to meet our¡­ new friends?¡± Her voice was a bit weak with the question. The girl was still finding it hard to believe that they had agreed to work with a group of criminals. Sure, Grandstand and the group from La Casa didn''t know who she and Damarko actually were, not yet anyway. But still, they were helping criminals. The fact that those particular criminals were trying to do something inarguably good by tracking down whoever was responsible for the murder of that reporter lady helped a bit, but it didn''t change everything.


    God, how would Amber react if she knew Jae was working with criminals? Actually, considering one of those criminals was Pack, maybe the whole situation would be more complicated than she assumed. Jae really had no idea what was going on with that whole thing, especially now that that Dani girl was involved somehow. But whatever was happening really wasn¡¯t her business. That was Amber¡¯s life. It was just that knowing her friend clearly at least somewhat liked Pack, that the two of them flirted some, made an already complicated situation even more so.


    Zed checked his phone. ¡°Uh, about twenty minutes. If we wanna get dressed for the occasion, we better move.¡± A broad grin found its way to his face, despite his obviously shared uncertainty about the whole situation. ¡°I still can''t believe they agreed to help us find those guys.¡±


    ¡°And I can''t believe we agreed to let them help,¡± Colt retorted. ¡°But they only agreed because we¡¯re already helping them find out who killed the reporter. Which is something we want to do anyway.¡± He exhaled heavily. ¡°I still think we might want to bring Whamline in on it. Seriously, the poor guy was right there when it all went down. I''ve seen how guilty he feels about it. He acts like it was all his fault, like he should¡¯ve been able to save her.¡±


    ¡°He does feel bad,¡± Jae agreed quietly. ¡°But we can''t involve him in this. We don''t know if we can--¡± She stopped herself. She''d been about to say they didn''t know if they could trust him, but that was the wrong way to phrase it. Of course they could trust Whamline. He was their teammate and friend. What she really meant was that they didn''t want to put him in a situation where he had to either betray them by telling the authorities what they were doing, or agree to work with Fell-Touched. Even if it meant finding out who was responsible for murdering the innocent woman whose death he felt so responsible for¡­ no, maybe they could tell him about it once they found out more. But for now, it was better to leave the boy out of this.


    Lexi put in, ¡°Yeah, I want our parents and the rest of the heroes to find out how capable we are and all that, but only after we actually manage to win, you know? They can''t stop us if we''ve already done it.¡±


    ¡°What she said,¡± her brother agreed. ¡°As far as Mom and Dad know right now, we''re just hanging out and having fun. But if they heard anything about what we¡¯re actually trying to do, I don''t think anything could stop them from breaking through that blockade to come pick us up.


    ¡°And personally, I¡¯d rather not make our parents so angry they turn into supervillains. At least not without something to show for it.¡±


    *******


    ¡°All this shit we''ve been doing, and what do we have to show for it?¡± As she snapped those words, Pack tossed a shelled peanut into her mouth from the bag she was holding. The much larger Touched-Tech bag that acted as a portal to the terrariums her lizards were kept in was sitting on a folding chair nearby while she, Eits, and Broadway stood around on the roof of this old tire store that had been safely closed and empty for almost three months. ¡°Because I don''t know about you guys, but I haven''t seen that Jennica girl since--oh, we first started this.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll find her,¡± Broadway informed the other girl shortly, staring intently out over the city while dressed in her awesome power armor that made her look suitably taller and more impressive than her diminutive civilian figure really was. ¡°We just have to do it before she actually joins up with the Scions. If she gets that far, they''ll send her to Breakwater.¡±


    Eits, exchanging a quick look with Pack, hesitantly ventured, ¡°Are we sure that wouldn''t be a good thing?¡± He held up a hand as the other girl looked at him intently. ¡°I know, I know, she''s your sister and all. I get it, believe me. But seriously, it''s not like she''s being mind controlled or manipulated into this. She wants to join the Scions. She wants to kill a lot of people. There¡¯s a certain point where being someone you care about doesn¡¯t matter. She has killed people, and she wants to murder a lot more. Anyone who sees Pencil as someone to look up to, as someone she wants to work for? It¡¯s not--¡± He sighed heavily. ¡°That''s not really the type of decision you can just hug out of someone.¡±


    The lights moving across Broadway¡¯s helmet flickered a little as she gave a sigh of her own, clearly taking a moment to think that through. ¡°I know, you''re right. I get it. If it comes down to it, she has to be stopped before she does something too monstrous, no matter what. But I have to at least try to get through to her. Maybe if I can make her snap out of whatever that is, she can go to a normal prison. Or a mental hospital, because she¡¯s clearly not okay. I just want to help make her better, not let her get thrown onto a prison island full of monsters and left to rot.¡±


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    Pack tossed another peanut in her mouth before asking, ¡°What do we do if she¡¯s the one who was responsible for killing Grandstand¡¯s friend?¡±


    ¡°She wasn¡¯t.¡± That was Grandstand herself, climbing off the ladder that led up from the parking lot. ¡°I know it was a Touched, and probably someone directly connected to Ten Towers. Maybe even one of the fucks who was there that day, considering what that guy said about hearing her voice right there on the audio when he was talking to whoever set it up. Or that could be a fakeout. Maybe whoever it was planted a bug on them. Seems pretty stupid to give away that much. But whatever it was, the person we¡¯re looking for is a guy. Everywhere I turn, everyone who knows anything about it always says he.¡±


    As she said that, the woman stepped away from the ladder, allowing their strange new friends from out of town to climb up. They were all still dressed as normal thieves in simple black jumpsuits and ski masks, even though they were definitely Touched. Maybe the four of them simply hadn¡¯t settled on any good costume ideas yet.


    Yeet, as the girl who created the glowing eggs that could send people flying called herself, was the first up the ladder after Grandstand. She was followed shortly by Facsimile, the boy who made solid-energy duplicates of objects he touched. Or of the air itself, which allowed him to create what amounted to forcefields. He also enjoyed going by the nickname of Facs, apparently. Which had confused Pack and the others when they thought he was spelling it with an x.


    Either way, those two were joined by the telekinetic girl who went by T, and D, the boy who could turn invisible and/or intangible. Those two definitely needed better names. Especially if Pack was going to convince them to join La Casa after all this was over. The thought of how happy Blackjack would be with them if they managed to recruit four brand new Touched onto the team was almost enough to make her giddy.


    Once their new friends had joined them, Pack addressed Grandstand. ¡°So you¡¯re sure the person we¡¯re looking for is a guy.¡±


    Broadway snorted quietly. ¡°Or maybe it''s a girl who''s just posing as a guy. That would actually be a pretty good way to hide your secret identity, you know?¡±


    Coughing weirdly, Eits spoke up. ¡°I guess we can''t throw out any possibility. Seriously, you went through the stuff we got out of that courthouse, right?¡± he asked while looking at Grandstand.


    She, in turn, caught the peanut that Pack tossed to her and ate it before responding. ¡°You mean have I read every record that our pal who made those fake IDs said we might want to look at? No, but I skimmed most of them. We need to take a good long look.¡±


    ¡°Wait, is that what you were doing in the courthouse?¡± T piped up, drawing everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°I mean, when I heard you went in there at the same time as those Trendscendant people, I thought you might be working with them too.¡±


    Pack gave a visible shudder. ¡°God forbid, we aren¡¯t that desperate. No, babe, we were just staking out the place, looking for a good time to break in. When we saw what was happening, we just took advantage of it to grab the thousand files we needed while everyone was distracted.¡±


    Yeet practically bounced up and down. ¡°You had to steal a thousand files just to find the identity of one guy?¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t want the counterfeiter to know who he really was,¡± Pack noted. ¡°Our counterfeiter said the guy he talked to wanted fake identification made for over a thousand different people over the course of the past year, and paid for all of them. There¡¯s no way he¡¯s actually got a thousand people on his side, whoever he is. So he obviously just picked a thousand people at random, plus himself, and had the guy make identification for all of them. The real guy we¡¯re looking for is somewhere in that list.¡±


    ¡°Which would¡¯ve been hard enough, but manageable, as it was,¡± Eits put in. ¡°Then our guy had to go and take all those files back from the counterfeiter. Fortunately, with a little¡­ uhh¡­ persuasion, our counterfeiter guy remembered some of the file numbers. It¡¯s like whoever this was just took a whole bunch of folders out of the exact same filing cabinet and handed them over. Then he put them back in the same place once the job was done.¡±


    Broadway chuckled darkly. ¡°So all we had to do was take the whole filing cabinet out of there just to make sure we got the right one. The guy we''re looking for has a file somewhere in that cabinet. We''re just going to have to look through every last one until we find the right guy. Then we stop him and use that to find the girl I¡¯m trying to stop. They¡¯re both trying out for the Scions, so they have to know about each other. They¡¯ve probably met and all that. He¡¯ll know something about where she is and what she¡¯s doing.¡±


    ¡°Seems like a longshot,¡± D noted before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as they all looked at him. ¡°But hey, I¡¯ve heard of worse odds.¡±


    ¡°You still want to help?¡± Pack asked the four of them. ¡°Even though it means looking through a bunch of mind numbing files right now, just searching for anything that stands out? Seriously, I think we''d understand if you wanted to dip. I asked my lizards if they were going to help, and they all went right back to their terrariums. Opened the teleportation bag and everything. It was impressive. Rude, but impressive.¡±


    ¡°If it means stopping a couple people trying out for the Scions, we¡¯ll help,¡± T informed them. Belatedly, she added, ¡°After all, we''re still just trying to get set up here in the city, and having more of those Scions out there making things worse for everyone isn''t going to help with that.¡±


    Yeah, these people definitely needed help if they were going to get along in Detroit. This city was bound to eat them alive otherwise. Pack still wasn''t sure what their whole deal was, or why it felt like something was off about them. But they were four Touched who could definitely be a huge asset to any group they joined. Especially now with all this other shit going down. Half the Star-Touched in the city were out of commission and the whole city was basically quarantined. Any group these four joined would get an immediate advantage, that much was for sure. She was going to see how they did with this situation and go from there.


    ¡°What about you guys?¡± she prompted after giving the four of them another curious look. ¡°Any luck tracking down the people who attacked you?¡± The group hadn¡¯t given them much more information than that, but it was obvious there was more to the situation. Pack just didn¡¯t want to push them too much about it. Whatever was going on there, it was pretty obvious that these four were skittish about the whole thing. The prospect of recruiting four brand new Touched to their side was too amazing for her to risk scaring them off just to satisfy her own curiosity about what they were actually up to.


    ¡°We¡¯re still working on it,¡± Facs informed them after exchanging a brief look with his companions. ¡°The records that counterfeiting guy gave us narrowed it down to a umm, a small gang who work with those Sell-Touched guys sometimes. What were their names?¡±


    ¡°Two-Step and Lastword,¡± D answered flatly. ¡°We don''t know if those guys were involved at all. They weren''t at the actual attack, anyway. But if they work with these people, they might object to us trying to pull them aside for answers.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯ll help.¡± With that reminder, Broadway added, ¡°That''s the deal, right? You help us track down and stop these wannabe Scion recruits, and we help you figure out this whole kidnapping thing. But, you know, it¡¯d really help us help you if we knew why they wanted to kidnap you in the first pla--¡±


    Grandstand interrupted, sharing a glance with Pack. ¡°When you¡¯re ready to tell us more so we can help, we¡¯ll be ready to listen.¡± Then she gestured with her thumb. ¡°I¡¯ve got all the files in my van. If you people all really want to help look through all of it, be my guest.


    The sooner we find the right record, the sooner we can get to something more exciting.¡±


    ********


    Two hours later, they had brought the entire filing cabinet worth of folders up to that roof and were all sitting around going through file after file. All of their eyes had practically glazed over by that point as they went through mind numbingly repetitive files, searching for anything that might stand out.


    Pack was starting to think that this whole idea was stupid and pointless. How were they supposed to get actual answers this way? How could they look at a picture, name, birthdate, and other shit like that and just say ¡®it¡¯s this guy, he''s the one who is trying to join the Scions by murdering the reporter who helped expose their identities?¡¯ It was absurd to think that something would just jump out at--


    ¡°Oh my god.¡± That was the telekinetic girl, T. She jolted backward, dropping the folder she had been looking at.


    ¡°What?¡± Broadway demanded. ¡°What¡¯d you find?¡±


    ¡°Nothing,¡± T replied, reaching for the folder. ¡°I just didn¡¯t expect--¡±


    Grandstand, moving faster, picked up the folder first. She flipped it open once more and frowned at the contents. ¡°Jerry Meuster?


    ¡°Who the hell is Jerry Meuster?¡±

 Interlude 26C - Truth

    ¡°What do you think they''re talking about up there?¡± As he asked that question, Eits stood at the base of the building their whole group had been working on top of to sort through all those files. Broadway, Pack, and Grandstand were around him. The other half of their little alliance had requested a few minutes to discuss¡­ things, and asked that he make sure no one went up the ladder to disturb them. Or, of course, eavesdrop. For whatever reason, they trusted him the most out of everyone here. Which was weird and made him feel a little uncomfortable, to be honest. But he wasn¡¯t about to betray that. He¡¯d promised he would let them know if Grandstand disappeared, or ever really left his line of sight. Her power made it easy for her to do something like that, but he was pretty sure the nearby security cameras he had tasked to watch her as well would do a good enough job of alerting him if that happened. Maybe. Hopefully.


    His eyes were on the blonde woman who had so recently been Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s second-in-command. Cu¨¦lebre, of Oscuro. What would Blackjack think if he knew they had been helping her?


    Honestly, what would he think? Eits had no idea. Yes, she had been an enemy, but she had also abandoned the man right in the middle of a war with Blackjack¡¯s own organization. There was a good chance he would appreciate that, especially since they were keeping her busy with this other thing. But then again, Cu¨¦lebre had still managed to get other reinforcements, and all but crippled La Casa¡¯s primary ally in the process. All put together, it was definitely a complicated situation. And Eits was pretty sure he didn''t even know everything that was going on.


    Pack, squinting up toward the roof, shook her head. ¡°I''ll tell you what they''re talking about. That name. Something about it set them off. They must have recognized it, right?¡±


    ¡°Jerry Meuster,¡± Grandstand noted in a dark voice. ¡°They know him. Whoever he is, they recognized it. He must be a friend of theirs, or a classmate, someone they recognize.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean he¡¯s from out of town?¡± That was Broadway, sounding uncertain. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re from out of town, we met them all the way down by Monroe, not here in Detroit. But wait, no, he couldn¡¯t be from Monroe, because his records were here. What?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Grandstand murmured softly, ¡°there seems to be certain details about our friends up there that are not what we assumed, or were led to believe.¡± She trailed off, head tilting thoughtfully. ¡°I wonder¡­ perhaps this ¡®Jerry¡¯ is the reason they came to this place to begin with. He could have recruited them under false pretenses, making them believe they could work together to carve out a piece of their own territory. But now they¡¯ve seen what he¡¯s capable of. Hold on, what was it they wanted help with, again?¡±


    ¡°Finding out who tried to kidnap Facs and Yeet while they were visiting this place--¡± Pack started, before stopping short. ¡°Wait, you think this Jerry guy might¡¯ve been behind that too? Maybe he stepped in to pretend to help and that¡¯s how they got that whole recruitment thing going in the first place. That¡­¡± She shook her head, expression hidden behind that full-covering black mask. ¡°Okay, no, that would be way too big of a coincidence. What are the odds that the person we''re looking for would be the same one who brought them into this?¡±


    Broadway shrugged. ¡°I mean, we did all end up chasing down that same forger guy. Maybe they actually are connected. The whole reason we met them is because they were after the guy who made the fake documents for their wannabe kidnappers. If this Jerry Meuster guy was already connected to them¡­ hang on. Jerry Meuster. I¡¯ve got sixteen results inside the city limits with this search. Forty-one if we extend that to names like George, Gerald, Jeremy, Jeremiah, and so on. Any idea who I could narrow it down more? You guys see any other details in that file before they took it back?¡±


    Eits sighed. ¡°Guys, let¡¯s just wait a minute. We''re all speculating wildly and they might just tell us exactly what we need to know if we hold on for a minute. Give them a chance to talk it over. If it was something important, we¡¯d want the same.¡±


    ¡°I am giving them a chance,¡± Grandstand informed him. ¡°That''s why I''m not up there right now being a lot more demanding. And believe me, it''s tempting. But no, I''m standing right here, waiting for them to decide if they''re going to do this the easy way and tell me what I need to know about the person responsible for killing my friend.¡± Her voice had grown colder through that, before she ended with a flat, ¡°And they had better make the right choice.¡±


    Despite his words, Eits had been running the same search Broadway had been doing inside her armored suit. He did want to give their companions the chance to tell them the truth on their own terms, but it never hurt to check on things himself, just in case. The girl was right. There were forty-one people with variations of that name within the city limits. He had no idea how to narrow it down further than that, considering he hadn''t even managed to get a glimpse of that file. All he had was the name. There were four who were connected to known gangs, and another three in law-enforcement or linked to that directly. On a whim, he tried connecting the name to Ten Towers, but got nothing. None of the Jerry Meusters within the city limits had any known connection to Ten Towers, or any other Star-Touched group. At least not that were within either public domain or the servers he currently had access to. Not that that was conclusive in any way. Still, whoever this person was, the answer wasn¡¯t going to be that easy to get.


    Or it would be, if the people up on that roof decided to share everything they knew.


    ******


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Staring at Damarko-Colt and Jae, Lexi Chambers opened and shut her mouth a couple times behind the simple ski mask she wore. ¡°That can¡¯t be a coincidence, dude. There¡¯s no fucking way. Why would the name of one of your Minority teammates just happen to end up in that list?¡±


    Colt shook his head. ¡°Maybe it''s not a coincidence, but that doesn''t mean that he was connected to it. This could be a deliberate red herring. You know, someone who knew that trail could be followed, so they deliberately set it up to make him look guilty, since he was part of the escort party.¡± As he said that, the boy checked in with his other three selves, all of whom were secretly keeping their eyes on the group below to make certain none of them decided to eavesdrop after all. Eits may have come off as the most trustworthy member of that group, but there was still no sense in taking risks.


    Jae sighed. ¡°But how would they know that? Think about it, they said whoever this was stole those files a year ago, and had the forgeries made over all that time. How could they possibly have known that they¡¯d need a patsy like Jerry that far back? There¡¯s no way they could have known Pencil and Cup¡¯s identities would get out, leading to all this. Unless we¡¯re talking about some sort of future-seeing Touched power or something, and that¡¯s getting a little too weird and out there for me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that doesn¡¯t really seem likely, does it?¡± Zed murmured, plopping down with a heavy sigh. ¡°But does that really mean he had something to do with killing that reporter lady? One of the Minority? You guys are supposed to be, like, the heroes and stuff. Aren''t you vetted?¡±


    Colt snorted. ¡°Let''s be honest here, it wouldn''t be the first time a Star-Touched went bad.¡± Even as he said that, however, the boy felt bile rising in his throat. How could they even consider this? Jerry was their teammate and friend. They had fought bad guys, saved people, bled and suffered alongside each other for all this time. He was one of them, wasn¡¯t he? He¡­ he was a good guy.


    And yet, they had to look at the evidence. Jae was right, why would whoever was actually responsible for this have started the process of framing Jerry almost a year earlier? Unless it was someone who was also connected to the Minority program and saw him as a useful patsy almost the second he joined the team. Because the odds of this whole thing being just a coincidence, that his name had just happened to be included in that list while he himself had been part of the escort group who had been responsible for Jolene Iverson before she was killed were¡­ astronomical. It wasn¡¯t even worth entertaining the idea. But Colt, and the rest of the Damarkos, couldn¡¯t help but try. They¡¯d almost rather pretend something like that was possible than admit what had to be the truth, even amongst themselves.


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    Jae, who was obviously going through the same inner turmoil, stood and paced back and forth agitatedly, shaking her head. ¡°Don''t forget the other problem with telling those guys the truth, even if we want to. If we do, we won''t be able to hide who we are. They¡¯re gang members, Fell-Touched gang members, and we¡¯ll have to let them know our real identities.¡± Belatedly, she amended, ¡°Our ¡®real¡¯ Touched identities, I mean. There''s no way we could hide that from them if we tell them who he is. They¡¯d put it together pretty quick even if we tried.¡±


    ¡°And if we do,¡± Colt noted, ¡°They''ll want to go after him. They won''t listen if we tell them to let the authorities handle it. You saw how angry Grandstand is. You heard about what she''s been doing since this whole thing started. Jolene Iverson was her friend. She won''t let it go. We''d be sending her, and the rest of them, after him. After Jerry.¡± Again, he felt that bile. Could Jerry actually do something like that? He wanted to say no. Every interaction he¡¯d had with the boy kept playing through his head, through all four of his heads, as they all desperately searched for some sign of the truth. But that was the worst of it, there was no sign. Jerry was their teammate, their friend. Or he was supposed to be. How could he possibly be responsible for something this horrific? It just didn¡¯t track, it didn¡¯t make any sense.


    It made them want to scream and punch things, to be honest.


    ¡°I mean, why shouldn¡¯t they?¡± That was Zed, his voice a dark mutter. ¡°Think about it, if this is true, if we¡¯re right, then Jerry Meuster has been posing as a hero while doing pretty evil shit. Dudes, I know you want to think the best of him, but if he¡¯s been auditioning for the Scions, you can¡¯t just let that go.¡±


    ¡°No one said anything about letting it go,¡± Jae informed him. ¡°It¡¯s just--we can¡¯t sic a bunch of Fell-Touched on him without any proof. What if this is a mistake, or a coincidence, or a trick. Yeah, I know the odds against that, but what if? With Touched involved, you never know. We can¡¯t just expose ourselves and him to whatever Grandstand and those guys decide to do. We can¡­ we can tell someone in charge, like Caishen, let her take him in and deal with him. They can dig into things better than we can, find out the truth if we just point them in his direction, right?¡± Even she sounded doubtful while saying that.


    Colt glanced at the others, conferring with the rest of himselfs before sighing heavily. ¡°Grandstand¡¯ll still go after him, even if they take him into custody. And with her power, she¡¯s got a better chance of getting to him than most. The second she finds out who he is, she¡¯ll want to kill him herself, no matter who happens to be in the way.¡±


    Kicking the nearby air conditioning unit, Lexi lamented, ¡°What if he¡¯s done other things like this? What if this isn¡¯t the first time he killed someone? I mean, going from a big damn hero to trying to join the Scions, if that¡¯s true, is a pretty big jump, right? Seems like there might be other bad things in his history that you don¡¯t even know about. What if you could solve other murders he¡¯s responsible for?¡±


    Jae and Damarko-Colt were silent for a few long seconds, staring wordlessly at one another as they both thought that through. Lexi had a pretty good point. It was incredibly unlikely that this was a one-time thing, or that Jerry, if he was truly responsible for this, had just randomly decided to switch sides on a complete whim. What if he really had killed other people? What if¡­ neither of them wanted to continue that line of thought, but it was impossible not to. What it came down to was that Jerry could have been responsible for a lot of very bad things without them knowing about it. And neither of them could live with themselves if they just dismissed that possibility. Not considering everything they knew right now.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Colt finally murmured after going over their options for another couple minutes, ¡°let¡¯s call them back up here and talk this through. I just hope we¡¯re making the right choice, and don¡¯t end up regretting everything.¡±


    ¡°Believe me,¡± Jae informed him quietly, ¡°there¡¯s already a lot of things I regret.


    ¡°But if Jerry¡¯s really responsible for this, doing something about that won¡¯t be one of them.¡±


    ******


    ¡°Okay, we gave you a chance to talk it over.¡± With those words, Grandstand stared intently at the quartet who had been so mysterious ever since they found that file. ¡°So are you going to tell us what¡¯s going on and who that person is now? Or do we have to play more games?¡±


    Pack, standing slightly behind her alongside her two teammates, gave a short nod of agreement. ¡°Yeah, I mean seriously, you guys obviously know something about him. Time to share with the rest of the class. How¡¯s this Jerry Meuster guy connected to you?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re gonna tell you, probably,¡± Facs informed them. ¡°We just need--¡±


    ¡°Probably?¡± Grandstand¡¯s voice was dangerous. ¡°How about you definitely tell us? Because I am not going to let this turn into another dead end.¡±


    T jumped to her feet, her gaze locking onto the woman. ¡°Look, we just need some assurances. The stuff we have to tell you, there''s no way to do it without exposing more about ourselves and other things. And if this guy really is responsible for what happened to your friend, then we have to stop him. Stop him, not kill him.¡±


    Grandstand gave her a long, incredulous look. ¡°Excuse me? Maybe you''ve completely lost your mind, because if you think I''m going to let him sit in some cozy jail cell and then get off on some technicality--¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t,¡± D interrupted. ¡°Not like this. We won¡¯t let that happen. But if he¡¯s really the one who did this, then he¡¯s probably responsible for other things too. Other things he needs to be brought to justice for. You think you deserve to pay him back for what he might¡¯ve done? Believe me, this guy is in a position where he could''ve done a lot of bad things. And if he did, everyone he hurt deserves the chance to get closure, not just you. If he''s responsible for other bad things, then we need to find out what they are, and how many other people he''s hurt. This isn''t only about you and your pain.¡±


    Eits spoke up carefully. ¡°It sounds like you really do have a lot of experience with this guy. So is he from here or what? We thought you were all from out of town. Except that kidnapping thing¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± Yeet replied with what sounded like an exasperated sigh. ¡°Really complicated. And like she said, as soon as we tell you some of it, you''re gonna know a lot more than we expected. So if you want to know the truth, if you really want to stop this guy, you''ll have to agree to some conditions. It¡¯s the only way this can work.¡±


    ¡°First,¡± T put in, ¡°no trying to kill him. We find out if he¡¯s guilty, and we find a way to prove it, then we get him locked up. You want justice for your friend, we want that too. And justice for everyone else he might¡¯ve hurt. We have to get real answers. Real proof. We have to expose everything he might¡¯ve done, so all the other people can get closure too.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m in this to track down the girl he¡¯s been competing against for Scion privileges,¡± Broadway pointed out. ¡°So yeah, I''d like to get a few answers out of him myself.¡±


    She, and the rest, all looked toward Grandstand then. The blonde woman stood stiffly, taking all that in as she tempered her rage and focused on thinking it through. ¡°What makes you think I won¡¯t just agree to this and then go after him myself anyway?¡±


    ¡°We think you really cared about your friend,¡± T informed her softly. ¡°We know you''ve been hurting this whole time, knowing what he did to her. So, we kind of hope you''ll think about that, about how everyone else he''s hurt might feel about not getting any real closure. Do you really want to take that chance away from them? Think about all the pain you''ve been in since you heard what happened. If we don''t do this right and get the whole truth, everyone else he hurt will feel that same pain forever.¡±


    There was a long moment of silence before Grandstand gave a heavy sigh. ¡°Fine, for the moment. I¡¯ll keep it under control and do this the ¡®right way.¡¯ Now what do you know about him?¡±


    The quartet exchanged looks for a few seconds before D spoke once more. ¡°Okay, before we tell you who he is, you need to know something about who we are. Then we can talk about how we¡¯re gonna trick Jerry into exposing himself so we can prove what he did.¡±


    ¡°Who you are?¡± Pack echoed, squinting that way. ¡°So there really is more to this whole¡­ thing.¡± She indicated their group with a twirling finger. ¡°Which gang do you actually work for?¡±


    The question made all four of them cough and look at each other, before T spoke up. ¡°Well, see, that¡¯s a funny story.¡± As she said that, two soda cups, a broken piece of pipe, several abandoned folders, and an actual tire that had all been scattered across the roof came flying toward the girl, all of them shrinking down to become equally-sized as they circled her form.


    Seeing that, along with the other three versions of D who made themselves visible at that point, made Pack and the rest recoil in surprise. Eits found his voice first. ¡°Minority?! You¡¯re--you¡¯re both--wait--¡± He looked to the other two.


    ¡°Not us,¡± Yeet noted. ¡°We really are from out of town. Just visiting for awhile. And the bit about people trying to kidnap us was true.¡±


    ¡°But you--you¡¯re both part of the Minority.¡± Broadway was pointing at the newly-revealed Syndicate and Carousel. ¡°Which means--¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jae confirmed. ¡°Jerry Meuster¡¯s one of us. Or he¡¯s pretending to be.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s up to us, all of us, to prove what he really is. And find out everything else he¡¯s responsible for.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 13 - Baldur

    The sound of a soft beep filled the air as a keycard was inserted into the lock outside of a hotel room somewhere in Frankfurt, Germany. The door was pushed open, revealing a single, slender figure standing mostly shrouded in the darkness. It was nighttime, late enough that almost everyone else in this hotel was sound asleep. The single figure glanced around the small room, just large enough for a queen-sized bed, a small table and chair, and a long counter holding a television, coffee maker, and microwave. A door to one side led to the bathroom, and there was a window overlooking the city below opposite from the main entrance. In all, this was just an ordinary, unimpressive hotel room like thousands of others throughout the city, and millions in the rest of the world. Nothing about it stood out at all. Exactly as its new occupant liked it. Not that they planned on staying for longer than a few days at most.


    After taking in that sight for a few seconds, the newcomer stepped into the room and let the door close behind them. They carried no obvious luggage of any sort, their hands empty aside from that key card, which was slipped back into a pocket as they crossed the room to look out the window. For a minute or so, they stood there and watched the small bit of traffic that was still on the streets. They were as motionless as a statue, giving no immediate reaction even as the phone next to the bed rang. It went off twice more before the figure moved to sit on the bed and picked up the receiver. ¡°Yeah,¡± they started in a soft voice, ¡°I made it. Of course, thanks. I¡¯ll check in tomorrow for the visit to that university. Two o¡¯clock, right? Yeah. Bye.¡±


    The receiver went back to the hook, and the figure sat on the edge of that bed. They took in a long, deep breath, then let it out while allowing themself to fall backward, laying across the width of the bed. Their body almost disappeared in the darkness like that, fading away into the shadows.


    These were the moments they treasured. Now, right here, they were absolutely anonymous. No one who knew who they were knew which hotel they were in, and no one who knew they were at this hotel knew who they were. There were no extra responsibilities, no expectations, no requirements. They didn¡¯t have to uphold a certain image right now. No one here in this building cared what they did. They could simply live in this moment. It was glorious precisely because it was so utterly mundane. There was nothing interesting about this room or the building it was in. Which was absolutely perfect, because they had quite enough of ¡®interesting¡¯ in every other aspect of their lives.


    As a general rule, every Touched always led very interesting lives. At least to an extent. It came with the territory. That went double for the one lying on that bed. They were known to the rest of the world as Baldur, though their real name was Adelais Becker. Or their real names, rather. Every version of themselves they had been connected to had a name either identical to that or at least somewhat similar, regardless of their gender or other particulars. Whether that was a universal rule, or had something to do with how they were linked to one another, none of them knew for certain. But it was a fact.


    Yes, other versions of themselves. That was Adelais Becker¡¯s power. Or secondary power, at least. There was an entire multiverse of possible Earths out there, and hundreds of versions of Adelais were connected to one another. What¡¯s more, they were able to shift their physical bodies back and forth through this connection. The same consciousness stayed in the world, as it was placed within the body from any of those other worlds. A body which could have any number of other powers. A single personality/mind switching between hundreds of other versions of their own body, with various powers they could use for any possible situation. As long as that particular body and power were available.


    They were an entire community of the same person. Hundreds of versions of Adelais who all stayed in mental contact with one another. They had rules about how much information they shared, of course. There was too much of a chance that they might unwillingly change things for the worse if they interfered with one another¡¯s worlds. That had happened before. They¡¯d thought they were helping, and ended up turning one of their worlds into a hellscape in the process. And before they could help that version of themselves fix it, the world was cut off. The rest of the Adelais community never heard from that version again. The only possible answer was that that one had died. They lost one, after accidentally making that world so much worse. All because they had tried to take advantage of knowledge from other worlds to change things.


    So, they made their rules. No telling one another specifics about what happened in their worlds. They could share certain things, but nothing that might change the course of history in their own home. Sometimes it was hard to stick with that, but they always made themselves do so in the end, and every new version who eventually connected to their collective when they Touched was informed of that terrible mistake so they wouldn¡¯t repeat it.


    Not that they refused to share any information, of course. They just had strict rules about what could and not be passed along. Some might have considered it overkill, but those rules had worked so far.


    Now, Adelais felt a tugging from that collective. The body they were currently using was a powerful Pyrokinetic, and that power was needed by one of the others for a fight they were in on their own world. With a thought, the two exchanged forms, and the one on the bed went from a tall, masculine form, to a shorter, feminine figure. They had always considered themself fairly fluid in that regard even as a child, though they weren''t sure if that was a coincidence, some form of their power that had existed even before they actually Touched (science was a bit vague on how that worked, if the whole Touching thing was simply bringing out potential that had always existed), or if the fact that they were fluid had influenced how their power turned out. Whatever the reasoning, ever since they had Touched for the first time when they were only thirteen years old, they had shifted through bodies far more often than anyone else changed their shirt. Hell, more often than the average person even noticed their own appearance. They often went through a few dozen bodies in a single day even when things were slow, all the way up to shifting over a hundred times or more.


    In the end, their bodies always looked somewhat similar to one another, of course. Every version of themselves could be twins, siblings, or at worst close cousins. They came from all different manner of lives and upbringings, had any number of hair colors, body types, and more. But they looked related.


    Maybe that was why they preferred this way of living. Others often asked them why they didn''t have a house somewhere. They could afford it, of course. As the leader of the world''s premier Star-Touched team, they actually made a rather obscene salary. And even if it hadn''t been enough, there were dozens of corporations lining up to give sponsorship deals. But Adelais refused all of them. Something about the offers always just felt¡­ wrong. And in any case, they didn¡¯t want a house. They liked living like this. Owning a house and living in it meant everyone always knew where you were. They were always so famous in their Touched identity that the idea of being pinned down to one location as a civilian was just.. abhorrent. Living like this, constantly traveling between random hotels anywhere in the entirety of western Europe, allowed them to cling to at least some semblance of anonymity. They could turn off being the most famous Touched in the world and simply sit in a quiet room watching television for a while.


    Some part of them always felt guilty about that, as though they should be out there constantly dealing with every bit of crime and suffering that existed. For a while they, and others within their collective from across the multiverse, had tried to do just that. But other, wiser versions of themselves, many who had also done the same, taught them the folly of burning themselves out. There was no way to survive like that for long. They had to shut off being Baldur regularly so they could simply cope with everything they thought and were responsible for it. The harsh truth was that even with their power, they couldn''t save everyone.


    And, of course, there was another reason to live like this, which helped ease the guilt they felt for doing so.


    After sitting in silence and darkness for a couple of blissful minutes, Adelais picked up the remote for the television and clicked it on. They immediately switched away from the news, having absolutely no desire to focus on anything real. A few more clicks brought them to a silly, meaningless cartoon. That was good enough. They could vegetate and just escape the real world, and all the responsibilities inherent within that, for a little while.


    At that point, there was another tug from two of their other selves. The body they were currently using was capable of incredibly fast flight as well as shifting from being intangible to the densest material on the planet. They used that to perform what amounted to becoming a living cannonball, launching themself at several times mach speed before shifting to their densest form in order to destroy anything in their path. Right now, that power was needed in a fight against another world¡¯s Abyssal. Simultaneously, the second Adelais who was part of the ¡®call¡¯ needed the invisibility power the first was currently holding onto.


    There was a quick shuffling of powers then. The Adelais in the hotel room passed the cannonball powers over to the one fighting the Abyssal, while that one passed their invisibility to the one attempting to infiltrate an evil, oppressive government headquarters, and they in turn passed their acid creation and control power to the one in the hotel.


    All of that passed without much in the way of conscious thought or effort. Adelais simply knew what they needed and why, and exchanged powers the way most people might have reached back to scratch an itch on their neck. Now their form had switched to another female, though this one was rather more buxom than the previous version. Their attention never left the cartoon. Reacting to such requests had become second nature in the twenty years since they had gained these powers. From the age of thirteen to now being thirty-three, they had been in constant contact with hundreds of versions of themselves. They were always there in the background of their thoughts, some more talkative than others, but ever-present. It had taken some time to grow accustomed to that, and to ignore all those extra thoughts until they were important and actually directed at them. By this point, however, it was second nature. Like ignoring a quiet conversation across the room that didn¡¯t involve you and simply tuning it out.


    Still staring at the television to watch the silly cartoon, they reached out to pick up the phone once more and ordered a pizza and beer. Within half an hour, a knock at the door informed them that their meal had arrived. They muted the television, standing before glancing down at their current body. Oh, yes, they were wearing the same costume this version of themselves had worn through a recent fight with a rather thorny plant-based villain. Which meant opening the door would have revealed what amounted to a battle-damaged, skin-tight costume with near anime-esque convenient holes exposing near scandalous amounts of flesh.


    Yes, this was probably a bad way to remain anonymous. Shaking their head, Adelais reached up to touch a simple-looking earring. Every version of themselves wore its equivalent, since one of their Tech-Touched selves had created it and shared the specific blueprints amongst themselves. At the touch, the heavily-damaged, nearly X-rated costume they were wearing was instantly replaced with civilian clothes. Jeans and a light, long sleeved shirt. That was good enough. Satisfied they wouldn''t immediately attract too much attention from a shocked pizza boy, they opened the door and accepted their dinner, paying him a substantial tip and quietly thanking him before going back to sit in the darkness and watch more television. These moments, times when they could turn off their brain, eat junk food, and simply watch mindless entertainment, were how they maintained their sanity in a world that seemed to constantly demand more and more of their attention and effort. The only way they could survive with that sort of weight was by taking off the weight now and then.


    But, of course, that couldn''t last forever. After a couple hours of resting and watching television, Adelais¡¯s attention was drawn to the distant, muffled cry through the nearby open window. Clicking the television off, they turned to look that way, sending their own request through their collective. In an instant, they had exchanged their acid-controlling female body for a smaller, male figure who was still a teenager. He''d only been connected to the group for a few years, but his powers were quite useful in this moment. Adelais was able to look straight through the wall of the building, see in the darkness as though it was bright daylight, and zoom all the way to an alley across the street. There. A young man, probably barely in his twenties, was being dragged out of sight by three thugs with knives. One of them had a hand over their victim¡¯s mouth, preventing another scream like the one that had already given away their attack to possibly the worst person in the world, from their perspective.


    Carefully cataloging everything about the three men over the next couple seconds, just to ensure there wouldn''t be any surprises, Adelais stood and walked to the window. On the way, they once more changed bodies, becoming a much taller male with very thin arms and a narrow face. This version wore a dark blue bodysuit with white piping, and a simple domino mask with added blue lenses over the eyes. After another step, they walked right into a shadow on the wall, emerging from another shadow within the same alley those men had been dragging their victim into.


    Teleportation powers of any kind were in rather high demand amongst the collective, so the moment they had arrived behind the thugs, Adelais exchanged that body for another. These men weren¡¯t likely to be any sort of real threat, meaning they wouldn¡¯t need that much power to deal with them. Their body shifted once more to a decently-muscled female form, standing a couple inches under six feet. This one¡¯s power provided enhanced strength, reflexes, coordination, and so forth, but only enough to put them slightly over what a normal human was capable of. It was one of the collective¡¯s most minor powers, but they didn¡¯t need anything better than that for this situation.


    While the thugs were snarling for their victim to shut the fuck up, Adelais cleared their throat. The men spun, only to see that shadowy figure, wearing cargo pants, combat boots, a sleeveless red shirt with a black eternity symbol across the chest, black gloves, and a matching dark combat helmet with a red visor. Nothing about the figure they were looking at told them exactly who they were facing, only that it was almost certainly another Touched.


    Naturally, they reacted instantly. Two of the men launched themselves at the figure in front of them, knives already swinging. The other quickly stepped behind their victim and put his own knife to the man''s throat as a hostage.


    Despite the relative mundanity of their current powers, Adelais had been doing this sort of thing for a couple decades by this point. They had more training and combat experience than the vast majority of actual soldiers, and always had a body that could take full advantage of that. Without missing a single beat, they took a quick step forward, catching the first man''s extended arm by the elbow in order to lock it in place so he couldn¡¯t bring that knife around. While the man cursed loudly, they shoved him aside with enough force to send him stumbling into a couple trash cans. With one more step, their other hand snapped out to instantly strip the knife from the second man while simultaneously slamming their foot into the man''s knee. He crumpled, his body falling out of the way just as they hurled the knife they¡¯d stripped from the man through the space where his head had just been. The blade collided directly with the weapon the third man was holding to their victim¡¯s throat, safely knocking it away before he could use it.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Within the span of the next second, Adelais had reached the third man. They yanked the hostage out of his grip, easily pulling him around behind themself while using their other hand to punch his attacker in the throat with just enough force to make him stagger and choke a bit. While he was still reacting to that, they caught the back of his neck and almost casually slammed his face into the nearby wall. He rebounded off the brick, collapsing limply to the ground while groaning in pain.


    By that point, the man who had been shoved into the trash cans had picked himself up and was pivoting to throw his own knife at the figure who had attacked them. Adelais snapped their head out of the way to allow the blade to hit the wall behind them, still holding the hostage with one hand. A quick, gentle yet firm shove sent that guy against the opposite wall for the moment, while they snapped one foot out to kick the second man, who was just starting to collect himself on the ground. The force of that blow knocked him onto his back, while Adelais quickly dashed toward the other man, who had just thrown his knife. Seeing them coming, that guy pivoted to run away. But he only managed half a dozen steps before the Star-Touched caught hold of a trash can lid and sent it flying like a frisbee into the back of his head. It was his turn to hit the ground, where he stayed, groaning in pain.


    From there, they took in the rest of the scene. The thugs were safely down, none of them looking ready to jump up and start more trouble any time soon. Once Adelais was convinced of that, they turned to focus on the man who had been dragged into the alley in the first place. ¡°Are you alright?¡± they asked, in German, of course. ¡°Do you know these guys?¡± It seemed like a simple mugging, or something to that effect. But if they had learned anything over the two decades they had been doing this, it was that making assumptions could easily backfire.


    The man himself, who stood a bit on the shorter side at just over five foot six, with a thin build and graying goatee to match his thinning hair, made a noise in the back of his throat. He seemed nervous, even now, which to an extent was understandable. But something seemed a bit off about it. Finally, he managed (also speaking German), ¡°I--I don¡¯t know who you are, but thanks. You--they wanted to stop me from warning anyone about the attack.¡±


    ¡°Attack?¡± Now Adelais devoted their full attention to the man. ¡°What attack?¡±


    Giving a start as though only just then realizing he hadn¡¯t explained that much, the man quickly stammered, ¡°Th-the new Doehring Power Station, the experimental one! Nachtkrapp, they¡¯re targeting it. These guys work for them!¡±


    Nachtkrapp. It was a German myth about a giant raven-like creature that liked to abduct children who didn¡¯t go to bed on time so it could take them back to its nest to pick apart and devour. The Fell-Touched gang who took the name weren¡¯t cannibals and didn¡¯t eat children. But they did abduct teens and brainwash them to work as foot soldiers for them. Their leader was a woman known as Klagmuhme, another mythological figure who was their equivalent of a banshee, essentially. She and her people were always trying to bring about one apocalypse or another, believing all Touched had some grand destiny to rule humanity. Which they wanted to force into being by destroying the extant society so they could create a new one that would follow the rules they put in place. Tear down the old world to craft one in their own image, or something to that effect. They had already been stopped multiple times, with nearly the entire organization being torn down and all of Klagmuhme¡¯s lieutenants arrested. But the woman herself always escaped in the end and kept rebuilding to try again. And now she was targeting the newest experimental Touched-Tech power plant? Yeah, that made sense. They had their own security, of course. Including several Sell-Touched of their own to permanently guard their facilities. But still, if Nachtkrapp were involved, this was bad.


    ¡°Tell me everything you know about it,¡± Adelais ordered, absently responding to a request from the collective by passing along the body they were currently using in exchange for a short, male form that could speak to rodents.


    Seeing that change, the man¡¯s eyes widened in sudden realization. ¡°B-Baldur!? I didn¡¯t--I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know what you were--yes, yes, of course!¡± He immediately launched into a quick explanation, tripping a bit over his words but staying relatively coherent for the most part. It turned out that his name was Ebert Krantz, a low-level maintenance worker at the new power plant. One of his coworkers had been acting suspiciously, so Ebert had followed him after their latest shift, and ended up eavesdropping on a meeting between the members of Nachtkrapp as they finalized their plans to invade and sabotage the plant that very night. If they had their way, their sabotage would cause an apocalyptic event across much of the continent. And, from there, essentially create the whole new world they wanted. One where much of the population was dead and they could rule over what remained.


    Krantz tried to get out of there to warn someone, but had been spotted and those three men had been sent to silence him while the rest carried out their plan. Which meant this was going down right now. At any minute, the power plant could go critical, and then it would be too late.


    At an earlier part in their life, Adelais might have wondered a bit at the sheer odds of just happening across something like this simply by sitting in the right motel room at the right time. But over the past couple of decades, they had come to the understanding that some minor part of their power, in addition to connecting them to their other selves all across the multiverse, also gave them some sort of connection to¡­ possibilities. Specifically, it drew them toward things that could possibly create a cataclysmically-destructive event. Not always, and there were many of those that they missed entirely and had to be solved by someone else. But they were indeed unnaturally pulled to such events, too regularly to be a true coincidence.


    And that, of course, was part of the reason why they allowed themself these mindless excursions. Their ability to find the most dangerous trouble like this seemed to function most effectively when they relaxed and simply chose their destinations at random. So, when not acting directly with the rest of Armistice, that''s what they did. They traveled completely randomly, allowing whim and the subtle direction of that extra power to direct them toward the next major problem. Often nothing happened at all, but at times like this, when they randomly stumbled across a situation as dangerous as an attack on that power plant, they were glad to have it. And glad that they at least understood it well enough to find these situations before it was too late.


    Many Touched had additional powers like that, things that provided various boosts to what they were trying to do. Or what they were meant to do. That much wasn''t clear. Even now, with everything they knew about Touched powers both here and all across those other worlds, Adelais still had no real idea what the true origin of those orbs was, or what their final intentions were. There were some, both among the general population and among other versions of Baldur themself, who believed the orbs were connected to some sort of interstellar alien race crossing the cosmos and using humanity, as well as other species, to test or train the powers they could bestow, for some unknown purpose. Others, meanwhile, thought that ancient humans had been seeded and genetically manipulated to have the potential of these powers, and that the orbs were sent to unlock that potential now that it had grown over countless generations.


    Whatever the truth, now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on it. There would be plenty more opportunities for that, and many of their other selves enjoyed nothing more than to spend hours debating amongst themselves and comparing notes. But right now, this version of Adelais had a job to do.


    To start with that, they sent a request for a speed power to the collective, with a high emergency note attached. This couldn''t wait. Not when they had no idea just how far along those people were with their plan to destroy the plant.


    In almost no time at all, their body shifted once more, becoming a lanky female with a dark green helmet. Black lenses protecting their eyes, and the rest of the costume consisted of a black and green armored suit that looked as though it had been poured onto them in liquid form before solidifying against every contour of their form, showing off muscles and more. It seemed almost impossible for a real person to wear, given how much it fit like a second skin, yet appeared (and felt) to be as hard as steel.


    Once their form had changed, they told Krantz to call the police, using a few cuffs summoned from a nearly-unlimited supply within one of the suit¡¯s extradimensional storage pockets to make certain the three men wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere or pose any more of a threat. Then the hero known as Baldur pivoted on one foot, facing the direction of the power plant. It was almost fifty kilometers away, out in the middle of nowhere. But that distance would mean nothing if Nachtkrapp got their way. Fifty kilometers or sixteen thousand, it would make no difference.


    With that thought filling their mind, Baldur took off. This body possessed one of their better superspeed gifts, though it had its own drawbacks. Essentially, it could move at nearly sixteen hundred kilometers per second at top speed. But as it did so, the body became ghost-like and insubstantial. It looked a bit like a colorful fog, the form itself literally drifting further apart the more distance they traveled. By the end of a sprint, their body would be scattered across potentially several kilometers worth of distance and would take anywhere from several seconds to a full minute to pull back together and solidify in the place they actually wanted to be. The further they went, the harder it was to pull together.


    Fortunately, that was where this suit came in. It was a Touched-Tech design created by several of those within the collective, and helped contain the body so it couldn¡¯t drift apart like that. It still became fog-like, but that fog was kept within the suit so they could pull it together within an instant after arriving at the destination. It helped turn what would have been an almost crippling downside into a minor inconvenience, drastically raising the potential of this speed power. That was one thing the collective was excellent at, working together to find the limits of a power and create ways around it. They all used those powers, so they both understood how they worked, and had a vested interest in making them even better. Between that and the fact that they had their own Tech-Touched powers to use, there were many examples of powers within their catalog that were much more useful thanks to intervention like that.


    Fifty kilometers, to someone who could run a thousand in a second, was almost literally nothing. In the span of a blink, Baldur went from standing in that alley to being in front of the power plant. Most of the building was underground, the only visible structures being an unassuming-looking rectangular building with a smokestack next to it, both behind a heavy steel wall as well as an electrified fence. Ominous guard towers surrounded the facility, containing snipers and spotlights.


    Or at least, they should have. Now the guards were dead, there was a hole in the fence and wall, and a dozen well-armed Nachtkrapp Prev troops, as well as a couple Touched, stood around the rectangular building. The rest of the troops had clearly already gone inside.


    Without wasting another second, and before the Fell-Gang could notice their arrival, Baldur was moving again. With their speed at the moment, every person standing outside that building appeared to be completely frozen. One by one, over what amounted to the blink of an eye, their weapons were yanked away from them, they were slammed to the ground, and their hands and ankles secured together with more cuffs from the suit¡¯s storage pocket.


    The two Touched who were standing guard technically presented more of an issue than the Prevs. But not much of one. The two were hit completely unexpectedly, giving them no time to react or mount an actual defense. The first, a tall, heavyset man with the power to create and control terrifyingly powerful blasts of wind and fire, found himself pummeled into unconsciousness from a hundred blows that struck him out of nowhere from all sides, leaving the man lying in a heap on the ground. His own hands were secured with special cuffs that would generate a crippling electric shock any time he attempted to use his powers.


    Meanwhile, the other Touched was one of the physically strongest beings in the world. Within the top ten or fifteen, at least. He could easily rip apart a tank, and would have pounded this version of Baldur into hamburger in a fair fight. had his opponent actually stood still. But of course, Baldur didn¡¯t do that, and had no interest in a fair fight. The strong man, who went by the name of Zerst?rung, or simply ¡®Destruction/Annihilation,¡¯ never even knew he was in a fight at all until it was too late. Baldur didn¡¯t bother punching the invulnerable man. Instead, they ran straight into him, using their own momentum to lift the man off the ground. Two seconds later, they had gone from just outside Frankfurt, Germany, to somewhere near Istanbul. Zerst?rung was simply left standing in the middle of nowhere with no way to get back in time to pose a threat. In other instances, Baldur would have taken more time to secure the man. But considering they had no idea how far along this threat was, this would have to do. Every second counted right now. The man could be as strong and invulnerable as he wanted to be, over two thousand kilometers away from the real fight.


    Abandoning the man there, with a mental promise to come back and find him again as soon as this was over, Baldur raced back to the facility. That time, they went through the broken doorway into the main building. All the employees there had been slaughtered as well, the sight of their broken, dead bodies filling Adelais with anger and determination. Or possibly resignation. They had to put a stop to this, or these people would only be the heralds of billions more. This had to end, now.


    Two Prev troops stood guard in front of the elevator. Both were slammed into the wall behind themselves and knocked unconscious before they even registered the blur of motion coming toward them. The electricity-manipulating Touched who came out of the nearby doorway to see what that sound was fell just as quickly, finding herself lying on the ground under the control of a set of cuffs, which immediately injected a drug into her veins that would keep her unconscious for hours.


    A thought back to the collective exchanged this super speed power for the teenage male from earlier who could see through walls and darkness. They used that power, while standing in the room next to the elevator, to track and mark every threat below them. But only one really mattered in the end. Klagmuhme was the real threat here. And she was already standing just outside the main reactor, using her power. It was a gift that allowed the six-foot-tall, muscular woman wearing a flowing gray hood, cloak, and matching body armor to literally liquify objects (or people) by screaming at them, or physically manipulate them similar to telekinesis by singing. A toneless scream would destroy something, while a haunting, melodic lullaby would take control of the person, or object, and move it around under her control.


    Once they had the exact location of their main target, Baldur shifted bodies yet again. That time, they accepted a teleporter who could travel to any spot they had physically seen within the past month. That included what they had seen through their other body¡¯s vision power a moment earlier.


    An instant later, they appeared there in that hallway a couple kilometers below ground, bypassing every threat Klagmuhme had left in place throughout the rest of the facility to stall anyone who wanted to stop them. She had already melted through three quarters of the incredibly thick metal door that was blocking her from the reactor itself, and would be inside in another second. But that was a second they weren¡¯t going to give her. Even as two more powerful Touched standing guard over their boss spun toward them, Baldur changed to a new body. This one was a female wearing a simple costume of dark jeans, a red shirt and matching leather jacket, and a black helmet. Raising both hands, they sent blasts of concussive force slamming into the two figures. Those blasts struck the two of them hard enough to send them crashing into the nearby walls, where they fell and stayed motionless, threats no longer.


    Klagmuhme, of course, reacted instantly by spinning around to send her destructive scream that way. But Baldur had already shifted to a blond-haired, brown-eyed male figure wearing another armored suit and a bandana over the lower half of his face. At a thought, the scream that could turn their body to liquid was blocked by a sound-and-force nullifying energy shield. Another thought shifted their body to a young, still-teenaged brunette female with flowing dark robes, a hood, and black mask. Shadows swirled around their form even as the shield their last body had summoned began to fade away. Those shadows enveloped their body, and they vanished from that spot just as the dangerous scream blasted through it.


    Instantly reappearing behind the woman in a cloud of shadows, Baldur enveloped her within that darkness. She was blinded, her power muted. In addition to short range, line of sight teleportation, this particular body was capable of creating areas of blackness where sound, light, and even physical sensation were either dampened or outright shut off. Her power was useless within its confines.


    Unfortunately, what was not useless was the emergency teleportation device the woman activated with a flick of her finger before Baldur could grab hold of her. Just like that, she was gone. Once again, Klagmuhme had escaped at the last second.


    For a moment, Baldur felt a wave of frustration and anger. But they let it go just as quickly. Klagmuhme¡¯s time would come. What mattered right now was securing the rest of the facility and making certain it got the protection it really needed. At least with their leader gone, whatever remained of Nachtkrapp who hadn¡¯t also already fled would fall apart quickly enough.


    And maybe, when this was all over, Adelais would still have enough time to get back to that hotel and relax some more before their responsibilities made themselves known once again.

 Together And Alone 27-01

    ¡°Look, I did my part, okay? I disconnected the alarm. So you guys do your parts and get your asses in there so you can carry out all the shit!¡± The dark-skinned man with red sunglasses snapped those words while impatiently gesturing for his three disgruntled companions to go in the back door of the electronics shop he had just helped them break into. The van they had arrived in was idling nearby with the driver listening to music, while two more guys stood at the end of either side of the alley behind the store, keeping watch for any approaching flashing lights.


    ¡°What, so just cause you''re a fucking nerd means you don''t gotta lift shit?¡± one of the designated movers complained while the three of them headed for the open door.


    Red sunglasses guy gave a three-fingered salute, followed by raising his middle finger alone. ¡°You''re damn right that''s what it means. Now get busy. The cops and Stars may be distracted, but let''s not push our luck. I don''t like being out in the open like this.¡±


    ¡°Relax, dude.¡± The driver of the van drawled those words before taking a long hit off a joint. He was leaning back in his seat, his posture actually relaxed while nodding his head to the music. ¡°With all the shit they''ve got to deal with after that bio-attack, there''s no way we''ll have any trouble. We¡¯ll be in and out of here in ten minutes, fucking hours before they¡¯ll have anyone to spare to check what¡¯s going on. I bet we didn''t even need to disconnect that alarm in the first place.¡±


    A sudden, heavy boom filled the air as I landed on top of the van in a crouch. While everyone in the area suddenly spun my way, including the three guys who were carrying the start of their stolen goods out of the store, I spoke brightly. ¡°Really should¡¯ve taken that bet, guys.¡± My tone turned conspiratorial, a stage-whisper. ¡°You could¡¯ve cleaned up.¡± Even as I said that, guns were coming out. I launched myself forward off the side of the van with a tiny bit of blue paint on my shoes, flipping over in the air while extending both hands outward to shoot a double spray of yellow across the three guys who had dropped their stolen boxes to reach for their weapons. Not only did the paint slow down their motions, giving me a second to hit the ground, but it also made the boxes they had just dropped fall slower so the contents hopefully wouldn¡¯t end up broken.


    Popping back to my feet after rolling across the pavement, I activated a purple lion symbol across my back, as well as a pair of green wings along either arm. The lion quadrupled my strength, so instead of being able to lift about fifty pounds, I could¡¯ve done two hundred. Between that, plus my roughly twenty-percent speed boost versus their fifty percent speed loss, the three guys in front of me didn¡¯t stand much of a chance. I caught one of their wrists, yanking him forward and off balance to drive my other hand into his face, feeling his nose break under the impact. Then I was sidestepping, letting the stumbling man trip over my extended leg before pivoting around his falling body.


    By that point, the four guys on lookout, two at either end of the alley, had decided that actually shooting those guns of theirs at me when their companions were right on the other side was probably a bad idea. They started to run in closer to get a better shot. Noticing that as I put my back against the chest of the second guy to have come out of the store while stomping down hard on his foot, I called out, ¡°Hey, the fight¡¯s gonna be over by the time you get over here! Lemme help with that!¡±


    And just like that, I activated the red paint I had secretly hit all four of them with before announcing myself. They were all yanked off their feet and pulled inward to slam into one another in a tangled pile of limbs and curses.


    Meanwhile, the guy whose foot I had just stomped on staggered on that side, allowing me to slam my helmet backwards into his chin. He recoiled, while I threw myself into a sideways roll and shot two more quick bursts of red paint. One hit the man¡¯s face, while the other struck the nightstick that the third man had been trying to hit me with at that moment. Its course was corrected, and even though the man was slowed down so it didn¡¯t hit with full force, the blow to the second man¡¯s face right after I had just headbutted him with my helmet was still enough to make him fall backwards onto his ass in the doorway of the store as I canceled the red paint linking his face to the weapon.


    My dive away from those two carried me just past the guy in the red sunglasses at the very second that he managed to get his own gun out of its holster on his belt. He was already pivoting, starting to bring the pistol in line with my form as I hit the ground and rolled. Before he could finish aiming and pull the trigger, however, the man¡¯s left foot hit a circle I had left there. A blue-red circle. Instantly, he was treated to the effect we had recently found out would happen when my pull paint was mixed with my push paint. Namely, whatever it was connected to became incredibly slippery. His foot went right out from under him, and he bellowed a curse while falling hard onto his side.


    ¡°Oooh, gotta watch that form, dude,¡± I blithely informed the man as both of us lay on our sides. ¡°The judges are gonna--¡± Rolling backward, I planted my foot in his face with all the force my boosted strength could manage. ¡°--dock you!¡±


    While he was reeling, the guy whose nose I had broken before tripping him managed to fall onto his side and lift his gun to point my way.  At the same time, the one I had headbutted and forced to take the hit from that baton groggily did the same from the doorway he had fallen into. In that instant, I activated the orange and blue design I had already prepared on the underside of my costume, where they couldn''t see it. The men opened fire, three of their bullets hitting the ground around me before a couple struck my chest. It felt like having rocks thrown at me, which wasn''t the most pleasant experience, but it was worse for the two of them. They immediately recoiled with a pair of sharp cries as part of the damage was rebounded back onto them. They obviously hadn''t been expecting it, dropping the guns in surprised pain. I had intentionally made sure the orange and blue paint was out of sight, trying to teach the people I went up against that they could never be absolutely certain what paint I had available and active. Making the people who fought me be reluctant to actually shoot at any given point from fear that I might have that particular combination ready would really help in the long run. Especially when that particular lesson was reinforced with pain.


    Of course, the guy who had attacked with the nightstick in the first place hadn''t been taught any particular lesson just yet. He stumbled off balance for a moment, but now he had righted himself and spun to face me just as the yellow paint wore off. He started to come after me, which was the moment that I activated the paint I had quickly and surreptitiously hit his shoes with while he was standing around complaining about having to carry the stolen items. As with the red paint with those other guys, I¡¯d done that before ever showing myself. Like the spot on the ground, his shoes were blue and red, making them incredibly slippery. Or rather, making everywhere he stepped slippery. He immediately went flailing out of control, slipping and sliding wildly before falling hard on his back with a pained curse.


    Reactivating purple and green on myself, I popped to my feet and pivoted to put my foot into the face of the guy with the sunglasses once more even as he tried to sit up, knocking him back down.


    Throughout that whole bit, the man in the van had been trying to get out to help his buddies. But he couldn''t get the door open, thanks to the red paint I¡¯d shot into it while crouched there. For ten full seconds, his door had been practically welded shut, and he¡¯d been too frantic and freaked out to think about climbing out the window or one of the other doors. He just kept yanking at the handle while shouting. Finally, the paint faded, and he managed to shove the door open. But, seeing his buddies all on the ground, the man apparently thought better of it and immediately shut the door again before hitting the gas to send the van screeching out of the alley.


    Meanwhile, the four guys who had been tangled with one another managed to separate themselves. They took one look my way, before running to dive into the back of the van, since the doors were still hanging open. Well, three of them did anyway. The fourth leapt, but I managed to hit his back and the ground with red paint, yanking him back down.


    ¡°Calvin, Hobbes, take these guys!¡± I shouted, already starting to sprint that way as the van peeled out. Behind me, I saw the two in question drop into view, Touched-Tech guns raised and pointed at the men who had been left behind. They might¡¯ve still tried to fight even then, but a quick shot from both of Wren¡¯s special guns sent orange beams around two of the men by the doorway, and slammed them into the other two. After that, none of them seemed to feel like arguing with the orders to lay there so the two could quickly start zip-tying their hands and feet.


    Of course, I only saw enough of that to be certain things were going okay. On my way out of the alley, I hit every bad guy gun I could see with red paint and sent them all flying into the nearby dumpster, just in case. With their Wren-provided weapons and suits, Murphy and Roald could take it from there with those five.


    Which left me to catch that van with the four remaining men in it. Pointing toward the edge of the nearby roof with both hands, I sent a red and green shot that way, while simultaneously activating the green-blue mix on my feet. I was positively launched off the ground as though I had been shot out of a cannon. I deactivated the red green paint halfway there, allowing the momentum to simply shoot me up and over the rooftop.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The van had just, in that very moment, managed to reach the end of this first street. I caught a glimpse of the men slamming the rear door while screaming for the driver to go faster. They hit a pothole and the van bounced violently.


    Before I could come down or lose any momentum, I sent two shots of red paint right at a certain object waiting for me on the roof of a building on the opposite side of the street, where I had left it to avoid announcing myself to these guys before I was ready. It was the dirt bike I had borrowed from Paige before. The paint pulled me that way, allowing me to land right on the seat before kicking the bike into gear.


    The engine roared, at least as much as a dirtbike could, as I sent it flying right at the edge of the roof, hitting the spot just ahead of me with blue paint to launch it up and out over the street.


    The men in the van hadn''t noticed me just yet, but that would end quickly, as I used red paint on the wheels and the side of the nearby building to pull it that way before driving along that wall. I was driving along the side of a building! And thanks to a bit of experimentation earlier, I¡¯d found that with Wren¡¯s gravity boots on, it didn¡¯t matter which way the bike was facing. It could be upside down and I could still sit on it just fine without having to use red paint to keep myself there. The boots treated the bike the same way they did a ceiling and wall. Which was convenient.


    The guys in the van were trying to watch for me, but they were looking straight behind them instead of to the side where I had moved by that point. Still, the hum of the engine and sound of the wheels running along brick made the one who had clambered up into the front passenger seat glance my way before his eyes widened. He started to shout, but I hit him with a shot of black paint, then a red one. An instant later, he was yanked right through that open window and sent flying into the wall behind me, where I had left another bit of red.


    Of course, the men couldn''t help but notice their buddy suddenly vanishing through the window. But I had already activated blue paint on the tires of the bike, bouncing me sideways off of that wall. With a hit of purple strength, I managed to straighten the bike properly in midair and twist it around so that the thing landed on the far side of the van, facing the opposite direction. I came down near the driver''s door, while the man himself was looking the other way, right at the spot where his buddy had just been, so he still hadn''t seen me.


    As I drove past the van on that side, I hit it with yellow paint, but didn''t activate it just yet. I just sprayed it all along that side before activating the green dragon images I had already put along the sides of my own bike to speed it up even more. That allowed me to spin my ride around and catch up with the van before it could completely get away from me.


    The three guys remaining in the van, the driver and his two friends, had finally noticed me in the rearview by that point. The two in the back shoved the rear door open and tried to take aim with their guns, but I had already pulled past them, driving up along the passenger side of the van before sending a spray of yellow that way as well. Now both sides had been largely covered with that paint. I was running low, but that was okay. This was almost over.


    With that in mind, I braked hard, letting the bike fall behind me as I threw myself off of it with help from blue paint I had already put on the seat. It ejected me upward, and I flipped in the air before using just a little bit of red to yank myself down onto the roof of the van.


    Leaning over near the front driver''s side, I hit the steering wheel and a spot on the edge of the dash right by the window with red paint, even as the man shouted about me being on the roof. Activating that made the steering wheel yank hard to the left, sending the van sideways, straight off the side of the steep embankment they have been driving past. It led down into a long, deep cement canal meant to safely carry overflow flood waters when it stormed. The van might have crashed down too hard, but I activated the yellow paint I had already put on it while flinging myself up and off the roof. Finally, I activated the orange paint I already had on my legs, coming down in a crouch right on the edge of that embankment while the van crashed into the canal. I had slowed it down enough for the men wouldn''t die, but they were still jostled pretty hard, and the van itself wouldn''t be going anywhere anytime soon.


    I recovered before they did, of course, making it down there before pulling open the back doors of the crumpled vehicle. The men were still dazed as I took their weapons away and pulled them out. ¡°Don''t look so down, guys,¡± I informed them in as cheerful of a voice as I could manage in that moment. ¡°You might''ve failed at robbing that electronics store, and arguably failed at life in general for being such useless fucking assholes that you''d take advantage of a situation like this to get rich, but you helped me pull off a completely awesome stunt. And I really think you should be proud to be a part of that.


    ¡°So, who wants to take a picture to commemorate the occasion?¡±


    ********


    In the end, it turned out the party poopers wanted nothing to do with any pictures. They grumbled and cursed the whole time the cops, who took an inordinately long time to show up, were putting them in the back of their cars.


    Finally, once they and the group I had left back with the other two were safely taken away, I stood next to the dirtbike I had propped up next to my two companions and let myself breathe for a moment. It had been a long few days after everything went down at the Conservators¡¯ place.


    A few days after my parents had been poisoned. Not to mention Paige and Sierra¡¯s sister, and plenty of others. I was still reeling from that, even if the doctors insisted those who hadn¡¯t died yet would recover eventually. Of course they were saying that, they didn¡¯t want people to panic.


    The city had been locked down. No more people in or out, enforced by national guard troops from out of town putting up guard stations along the streets leading away, police boats on the water, and a complete freeze on any planes coming or going from the airports. It wasn¡¯t perfect, of course. But it was the best they could do under the circumstances. Until they found out for certain if anyone else had been infected by whatever it was that Pittman had hit the Conservators building with, and how to deal with it, they weren¡¯t going to take any chances.


    Of course, that also meant it wouldn¡¯t be easy for Paige and Sierra to get out of the city in order to go down to Utah and find the device Pittman had been talking about. If it was even still there. But that was our best lead, so we had to try. Wren was working on that little problem, while we tried to keep the city itself from burning down.


    Thankfully, things weren¡¯t as bad as they could have been, considering most of the Fell-Touched seemed to be organizing or making big plans. Or maybe the Ministry was actually doing some good. Either way, the situation still wasn¡¯t great. While powered people might have been laying low so far, there was plenty of nonpowered crime. More than we could handle, honestly. Most of my weekend had been spent trying to help keep things at least somewhat together. There had been several close calls already, as the violence kept escalating. The other Star teams, or at least everyone who was left, were being run ragged as well. I had no idea who was still in charge of the Ministry at this point or what they were doing, but it was clear that if they were responsible for the Fell-Touched laying low, that was all they could do. And something told me it wouldn¡¯t last forever. Sooner or later, there was going to be another big clash of the people with powers. Which would make the past couple days spent dealing with ordinary people seem like a cakewalk.


    Of course, Paige had been busy as well. The authorities had grilled her for most of a day about what she might know about her adopted parents¡¯ disappearance. She kept up the same story about Mr. Banners being paranoid that one of his business rivals was after him, and how she had convinced him to let her come back to school after weeks of hiding out. She had no idea what happened to them after that. Thankfully, the people in charge didn¡¯t push too much harder, probably not wanting to attack a girl whose parents had just died and whose sister was still in a coma. Besides, Paige was very convincing.


    By Monday, I had assumed school would be canceled, but it wasn¡¯t. Probably because they were trying to keep everything as normal-seeming as possible. Not that we had done much in class anyway. No one could pay attention to any lectures, so it had mostly been a day of talking about what was going on. Which didn¡¯t exactly help my barely-contained fear and anxiety. There was no news about any of those who had been infected. Or at least none that the doctors were sharing with us. Simon was almost never home, which was fine with me since I had my own stuff to do. He did call repeatedly to make sure I was okay, and I told him I was hanging out with friends.


    Finally, now it was Monday night. The attack had happened Friday evening, so it had been three days. It felt like an eternity. I wasn¡¯t sleeping enough, I knew that much. But every time I closed my eyes, I kept having nightmares about my parents¡­ not recovering.


    Whatever, all that mattered was finding that teleportation device and letting Wren do what she needed to do with it so we could get to Pittman and pry answers out of him. Of course there was a lot more to that whole situation, but I wasn¡¯t thinking about any of it at the moment.


    Shaking those lingering thoughts out of my head, I addressed my companions. ¡°So, that worked out well. Good job, guys.¡± The two of them had heard those men talking about this ¡®job¡¯ in the stairwell of the apartment building they lived in that morning,


    ¡°Thanks, PB,¡± Murphy murmured. ¡°What about the others, did they finish their thing yet?¡± Sierra, Paige, and Peyton had been dealing with another problem we¡¯d heard about. Again, everyone was being stretched thin.


    I started to answer, before the phone in my pocket buzzed. Tugging it out, I glanced at the screen before nodding. ¡°Guess so, one way or another. Wren wants us back at the shop ASAP. Sounds like she¡¯s got a way to get Sierra and Paige out of the city so they can go to Utah.


    ¡°And hopefully get what we need to end this mess and cure everyone while there¡¯s still a city left to put back together.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-02

    ¡°Okay, we''re all here,¡± Sierra announced a short while later once the whole group had gathered in the work room of Wren¡¯s shop. ¡°So now can we talk about how we''re going to get Paige and me the hell out of this city so we can get on to the very important business of punching our dad so many times his concussion has a nice little litter of baby concussions?¡±


    Paige sat on one of the heavy metal tables, staring at the floor for a moment in deep thought before giving a short nod as she looked to the girl in question. ¡°Yeah, I know the city needs us right now, but anything we do here is just a short term solution. we need to get answers out of our dad before this goes on too long.¡±


    Roald raised his hand. ¡°I uhh, I know we''ve been over this already, but before we get too into any of that, can I just say that it still might be a good idea to tell the doctors here exactly who was responsible for this and let the authorities get answers out of him? Yeah, I know they''ve been corrupted by the Ministry and all that. And even without that stuff, there''s only so much you can trust people like that to do. But this is something big, and I think we need bigger people than us to deal with it. If more of those victims die just because we didn''t tell these people that he was responsible¡­ I don''t think I could handle that.¡±


    The rest of us exchanged looks, and I exhaled before speaking. ¡°You''re right, that''s not something any of us want to be responsible for. I keep going back-and-forth about what the best answer is, and the problem is there''s no way to be sure. No matter what we do, it could lead to more people dying. What if we tell them who it was, and the wrong person finds out, you know, someone who works for him, or one of his creations? He has to have more resources out there than we knew about, or he couldn''t have done this much. The Banners had to have gone somewhere and been physically modified by someone to turn them into those biological bombs. Someone working closely enough with Pittman that he could make those changes. Which to me means someone with medical knowledge and tools, someone they might have called in specifically to help with this. You get what I mean? Anyone with the expertise to physically do what Pittman needed could also be the same person the authorities brought in to try to cure it. So what if we tell them what we know and Pittman finds out through that contact, making him decide to go with a new attack?¡±


    Paige agreed. ¡°That or there''s the other possibility we talked about. What if he does want us to tell everyone just so he can get himself put into a position to escape? He wants us to be emotional and angry and point the finger at him. He''s had years to set up an escape plan. Probably several different ones by this point. And you''re right, he obviously has more resources than we knew about. For all we know, the second he''s pulled off that island for an interrogation, he''ll be able to escape, no matter what safety measures they put in place. All we know with relative certainty is that at this very second he can''t get out. We can''t risk changing that. We can¡¯t make changes to the board until we know what the board looks like. He wants us to do something that changes his circumstances.¡±


    ¡°Which we''re totally going to do,¡± Sierra noted. ¡°Just not in the way he wants. We''re going to go over there, beat the living shit out of him, and get that cure.¡±


    Peyton coughed. ¡°That''s another little problem. Once we get this teleporter thing up and running, who is actually going to the island? I mean, let me put it another way. Who among us is actually going to the inescapable prison island where all the super murderers are, and risking getting trapped there forever if they can''t teleport off again?¡± She quickly looked over at Wren. ¡°I mean, no offense--¡±


    Wren, for her part, shook her head quickly. ¡°No, it''s okay. I''m scared too. I haven''t even seen his teleporter yet. What if I can''t fix it? What if I make it worse? What if--¡±


    Reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder, I reassured the girl. ¡°We¡¯ll just take it one step at a time. Don''t start fretting about what you can or can''t do with the teleporter until you take a look at it. No one''s going to force you to make it work if it seems completely out of your wheelhouse. It''s okay. This is just one plan. If you see the thing and think it can''t work, just tell us and we¡¯ll go with something else. We''ll figure out something.¡±


    She calmed down a little bit then, before telling us the actual plan for getting Paige and Sierra out of the city. With the roads and everything guarded, there was no way they could simply drive down the freeway. And the last thing we wanted was for them to get caught trying. Not only would it complicate any attempts we made in the future, but someone who looked identical to me being found trying to leave would make my life a bit of a mess. More of a mess than it already was. To say nothing of how the Banners¡¯ adopted daughter trying to leave would look.


    We had mostly jokingly talked about building a tunnel out of the city like the one we¡¯d used to get into the Ministry¡¯s mall base. But that would''ve taken a hell of a lot longer than we actually had, or wanted to spend doing it.


    Fortunately, Wren¡¯s plan didn''t involve a tunnel. Instead, she had worked with that teleporter system of her own. It still needed an anchor point to safely teleport the person to, so she had created a couple of those in the shape of a bullet. All we had to do was take the rifle she provided, aim far past the area where the patrols were set up, and fire them. If all went as it was supposed to, the anchor bullets would hit and plant themselves in the ground, and these two could be transported over there. Once they got back, it would be a simple matter to teleport them back across the line with the machine itself. Apparently Wren wasn''t too worried about that last part. She was mostly afraid of teleporting living matter.


    Either way, it sounded fairly simple enough, aside from the part where we had to make sure none of the patrols happened to see any of us pointing a rifle past them. Yeah, that part could be dangerous. But then again, this entire situation was dangerous, so what else was new? It was just something we were going to have to deal with.


    No matter how hard this was, no matter how dangerous it could be, we didn''t have a choice. Pittman was trying to trap us, trying to give us no choice but to play his game, and we couldn''t do that. I had no doubt that if he was free, this whole situation would be a hell of a lot worse than it already was. He had managed to do all this while locked up on Breakwater. The very thought of what he might be able to do if he was free and had all his resources was staggering.


    So no, no matter how panicked I was, no matter how terrified I might''ve been about what could happen, and was already happening, to my parents, we couldn''t let ourselves be trapped into playing by his rules. We had to get out of this our way.


    Everything seemed to be at least as in order as it could be right then, until Fred spoke up. ¡°Uh, hey, I''ve just been thinking a little bit about this, and I''ve got a question. The whole reason you didn''t let that girl talk on the phone to the living pile of rotting garbage that is her dad is because you were afraid he had some special control thing he could use to take over, right?¡±


    Glancing at Paige briefly, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, I''m pretty sure he has something exactly like that. That''s why Wren¡¯s also been working on noise canceling tech to put in their suits before the whole Breakwater thing goes down.¡± And yes, I was still trying not to think too much about that whole situation just yet.


    Fred looked back at me and shrugged. ¡°So¡­ how can you be sure he doesn''t have stuff at this house in Utah that could take control of them? Automated defenses or whatever. You know, since you''re sending just the two of them all by themselves.¡±


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    My mouth opened, then shut. I absorbed the question, slowly looking over at the other two, who were staring right back at me with the same look of realization. My palm found its way to my forehead. ¡°God, we''re idiots. You''re right, what if he has defenses on that house they could just take control of you guys? Hell, that might''ve been why he tried to send us there in the first place. I mean, for Paige.¡± He still didn''t know that Sierra was a thing, which was one of the few advantages we had. But he could¡¯ve had that whole place set up to put any stray Biolems back under his control.


    Murphy shrugged. ¡°So send someone else with them. I could totally blow off school for a couple days. A road trip sounds fun.¡±


    ¡°We can''t!¡± That was Wren. ¡°I set up the teleporter on their bodies. That took a couple days all by itself to make sure it would work with the bullet system. It¡¯d take even more time to scan one of yours in, let alone more.¡±


    Thinking quickly, I replied, ¡°Well, I guess it''s a good thing two of us are completely identical when it comes to our bodies.¡± Looking at Sierra, I added, ¡°I''ll take your slot, go down to Utah with Paige, and then go into the house myself to make sure it''s safe. I¡¯m not a Biolem, his automated defenses can suck it.¡±


    Peyton objected. ¡°Speaking as someone with my mother, don''t you think your brother might notice if you disappear for several days? You said he''s been stepping up a bit, and yeah, maybe he''s been content for phone calls most of the time, but I don''t think you can leave for that long without him noticing.¡±


    Before I could say anything to that, Sierra spoke up. ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll just have to take advantage of our similarities on this side too. I''ll pose as Cassidy and go to school and her house and stuff, make things seem normal.¡±


    Oh boy, did that idea terrify me. The thought of Sierra pretending to be me in front of my brother, my classmates, teachers, and all that made loud warning sirens go off in my head. But I shoved them aside. We didn''t have any better options. We had to go with what we had. The mere fact that I did look identical to Sierra so we could do something like this was a miracle in and of itself. There was no point in pushing things.


    So, after a bit more talk back-and-forth, that was what we agreed on. I was going to go down to Utah on a road trip with Paige, while Sierra stayed here and posed as me for a few days. Or however long it took. I was really hoping we could get this done in as short of a time as possible. But I also wasn''t na?ve enough to really believe it would be that simple. Either way, the Biolem girl would be me for a while. At least I would be able to tell Izzy what was going on so she could help out and cover as much as possible.


    Yeah, this whole situation had the distinct possibility of spiraling completely out of control. But again, our options were limited.


    And speaking of options, Paige and I stepped aside together to talk about something else we wanted to do. I had been thinking about it for quite a while by this point, weighing the positives and negatives. But right now it seemed like the right way to go. Paige agreed, moving downstairs to make the phone call while I talked with the others a bit more.


    There was still a little bit of work to be done on the teleporters to make sure they worked properly. We would leave town tonight, once it was dark.


    Soon, everyone else was dealing with that, while Paige and I left the shop together after she made that call and arranged the meeting. I still had to go home and talk to Izzy, as well as some of the things I needed to do to make sure I was ready to leave now that I was the one that would be going to Utah. Including paying another visit to my parents. I knew it wouldn''t help anything, but I wanted to see them one more time before leaving.


    First, however, was the meeting Paige had set up. The two of us were in costume as we made our way through the city, listening to all the sirens going off from all directions. Things were getting worse. Even worse than they had been before Pittman made his move. They had already been stretched while we had every Star-Touched in the game. But now? Now things were rapidly getting very bad. Just hearing those sirens, and looking online at people talking about stores being robbed, various attacks throughout the city, and more made my stomach clench in on itself. Yeah, there were still no signs of the Fell gangs making their moves just yet, but I knew that wouldn''t last forever. Hell, something told me they were probably at least partially behind the rising violence among the minor criminals, trying to stretch the system we had as far as it could go and exhaust people before they made their own real moves.


    In any case, eventually the two of us reached our destination, a small, unused shop that had been a bakery not so long ago. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Paige input a code on the electronic lock next to the back door, which beeped affirmatively. We walked through the cramped back room and kitchen, then into the front where the counter was. Sitting there, eating a doughnut from a box that was clearly not from this shop (considering it hadn¡¯t produced donuts for at least a few weeks), sat a familiar figure in a dark red bodysuit that had swirly black lines all over it, along with dark boots and gloves, and a pair of red goggles with attached gas mask.


    Cavalcade used two fingers to push the pink box from one side of the table she was seated at to the other. ¡°Help yourselves. I just couldn¡¯t stand to wait around this old place and not get some doughnuts, you know? Psychological thing, I guess. But hey, they¡¯re pretty good.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll save it for later,¡± I replied easily before adding, ¡°You uhh, you came after all.¡±


    ¡°I keep my deals,¡± the woman informed me simply, before adding, ¡°That¡¯s why I don¡¯t make them unless it¡¯s in my best interest.¡±


    Paige grunted softly before staring back at the woman. ¡°I bet you¡¯ve been offered a lot of deals over the past couple days.¡±


    Cavalcade¡¯s tone gave away nothing. ¡°Maybe. The city does suddenly find itself rather busy. Fortunately for you, I got your call first. Almost before everyone else knew what was going on and how bad it actually is. Kinda makes a girl curious. You got some sort of inside source?¡±


    I made my own tone give away nothing as well, forcing it to be as flat as possible while images of my parents¡¯ current condition ran through my head. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°Intriguing.¡± With an obvious smile, Cavalcade leaned forward to stare at both of us. ¡°Okay, well, the girl there managed to call me the night this all started and put down a retainer for a meeting, and for me to not agree to any other jobs until then. Or rather, until now. This is that meeting. I¡¯ve got another potential one lined up twenty minutes from now. Unless, of course, we come to some arrangement beyond delaying me from taking another job. Or did you have to empty all your piggy banks just to buy yourselves these past couple days?¡±


    In answer, Paige reached into her pocket before tossing a one inch thick bound-together stack of hundred dollar bills onto the table. ¡°There¡¯s a hundred there. Ten thousand dollars. You get another one of those every three days that you keep doing this job.¡±


    Before replying, Cavalcade checked out the money, making sure it was all there and real before setting the stack down carefully. ¡°And what job is that, precisely?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sure the gangs have been trying to hire you to help out with whatever they want to do,¡± I noted. ¡°Maybe even some of the Stars, since they¡¯ve been¡­ depleted.¡± Swallowing, I added, ¡°We want to put you on retainer. Don¡¯t do any other jobs for any criminals, but you can take any job you want for Stars if they want to pay you to do something. And be ready to help with anything we ask for until we¡¯re done retaining you, once this whole situation calms down. We¡¯ll pay extra for that. The ongoing retainer is just to stay away from any of the Fell jobs.¡±


    Cavalcade absorbed that, shifting in her seat. ¡°Let me get this straight. You¡¯re going to pay me ten thousand bucks every three days in exchange for me not taking any criminal jobs. But I can still take legitimate ones. And then just make myself available to come help you out when you need it. Which you¡¯ll pay extra for.¡±


    My head bobbed once. ¡°Exactly. Any other job you want as long as we don¡¯t need you and it¡¯s not a criminal one. Stick to that and you keep getting the money.¡±


    ¡°How do I know you¡¯re good for it?¡± the woman asked idly, tapping the stack of bills. ¡°That¡¯s an awful lot of dough to throw around. Just how many rich grandparents do you people have?¡±


    Paige answered simply. ¡°We¡¯re good for it. And if we miss a payment, you can just drop the agreement and do whatever you want. This installment is for the next three days. So we¡¯re good until then. It¡¯s win-win for you.¡±


    For a moment, Cavalcade didn¡¯t respond. Then she rose, picking up the money. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re good. You¡¯ve got my number. Keep the doughnuts.¡± Turning, she walked to the front door, pocketing the cash on her way. ¡°Pleasure doing business with you.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see what job you need help with first.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-03

    So, we had Cavalcade on our side. Or at least willing to do work for us and not take jobs from the bad guys while she was on retainer. Assuming she kept to her word, and I had no reason to think she wouldn''t after what I had seen and read about her, that was one thing off my mind. Sure, there would be other Sell-Touched who would cause problems. Even Paige and I couldn''t afford to pay all of them, especially not without attracting more attention than we were ready to deal with. But still, it was something. And it was becoming more and more obvious that the city''s authorities were going to need as much help as they could get before this was over.


    Once that was safely dealt with, I went home to find Izzy. Obviously, she wasn''t too sure about the new plan. But she also knew as well as I did that we didn''t have much in the way of choices. Someone had to get down to that place in Utah and bring back that teleportation machine so we could get answers out of that son of a bitch. And since sending two biolems into a place he¡¯d had had all the time he needed to have guarded against them was a bad idea and we didn¡¯t have time for Wren to program a new teleportation thing, I was the only choice. Wren had set up the way out of the city with my body in mind. Or Sierra¡¯s body, as it was. We didn¡¯t have any other options. Either I went with Paige, or we had to wait even longer for the girl to change the teleportation parameters. And who would we change them to anyways? If I didn''t go, it would be one of the others. Murphy, Roald, Fred, or Peyton. I wasn''t willing to let any of them run off to do what I wouldn''t. Besides, they didn¡¯t have someone here who looked exactly like them and could cover for their absence, even if we did have the time to waste. And I was pretty sure we didn¡¯t. No, this was the right--only move, no matter how much Izzy and I both hated it.


    For about an hour, we went over the details of that, including how she was going to help Sierra continue to pose as me for as long as possible. Our major saving grace, as sick as it was to think, was the fact that both of our parents wouldn¡¯t be home, or coherent. Honestly, if they''d been here and in their right mind, I wasn''t sure Sierra could pull off being me. At least not for the several days this was going to take. Which, of course, didn''t help the rush of guilt I felt when the thought occurred to me.


    Still, I shoved that away as firmly as possible. We didn¡¯t have time for those feelings. Instead, the two of us made all the plans and arrangements we could, including a few potential emergency measures. If everything completely went to hell and Simon figured out Sierra wasn''t me, there were a couple ways Izzy could potentially react, depending on how it happened. None were all that good, of course. But at least we had something resembling a plan.


    Promising my new sister that I would keep her updated about everything that was going on, and extracting the same promise from her, I gave the girl a tight hug as we stood in my room. Then I chuckled softly. ¡°Well, at least you won''t get bored while I¡¯m gone.¡± There was no actual humor in my chuckle or the words themselves. I was doing my best to make her feel better, and myself. But it didn''t really work. All I could focus on was seeing our parents in that hospital room and thinking about what would happen if they never came out of it.


    No, they would. That was why I was doing this. Paige and I were going to go down there and get the machine, and then we would get answers out of Pittman, no matter what it took.


    Izzy, for her part, clearly read my expression and offered a weak smile. ¡°You do what you need to. We¡¯ll hold down the fort here. I promise there¡¯ll still be a city when you get back.¡± After another moment, she added, ¡°What¡¯s it gonna be like, going with Paige?¡±


    After a brief hesitation, I shrugged. ¡°Not so long ago, I probably would''ve gagged at the thought. But now¡­ I''m not sure. It could be worse.¡± I sighed heavily. ¡°I still wish I had my memories back, at least then it might help me know exactly how I should feel about her. It''s all just confusing, you know?¡±


    She gave a quick nod. ¡°I know.¡± Her voice was solemn. ¡°Just be careful, okay? Get the thing and come back together. We need both of you if we¡¯re gonna get through this.¡±


    Putting one hand on the other girl¡¯s head, I smiled despite myself. No matter how awful I felt, or how scared I was about everything that was going on, at least I had Izzy. This whole situation would''ve been completely impossible to get through without her. It was hard to believe I¡¯d only met her so relatively recently. She was, in absolutely every important way, my sister. ¡°You be careful here too,¡± I reminded her. ¡°No unnecessary risks. If they try to overwork you, tell them to back off. You don¡¯t have to do everything. Even if they are understaffed.¡±


    Snorting, Izzy retorted, ¡°Understaffed is one way to put it. A really underwhelming way.¡±


    So, we embraced once more. Then we headed out. We were going to visit our parents together and then she was going to come over to Wren¡¯s shop with me so she could see us off, and make sure everyone who was staying behind knew they could contact her for help while we were gone. And she wasn¡¯t the only one. Amber was going to meet us over there too, since I¡¯d sent a text that way letting her know what was going on. I needed to know my team--my friends--were going to have backup while Paige and I were on our little trip.


    Simon was still gone on whatever Ministry business he was doing right now, so we didn''t have to explain anything about where we were going. I also took an exact match of the same outfit I was wearing with us, so Sierra could wear it when she and Izzy came back together. Maybe the staff wouldn''t have noticed if ¡®I¡¯ came back wearing a different outfit than I had left with but we weren''t willing to take that chance. Passing Sierra off as me was already going to be dangerous enough as it was without pushing our luck right off the bat.


    There was nothing new with Mom and Dad. They hadn¡¯t gotten any better, but they weren¡¯t worse either. I just had to hope nothing bad would happen while I was gone. Please, Mom¡­ Dad¡­ just hang on. I was going to go punch Pittman in the face a few dozen times and get the cure for them, for everyone.


    After about half an hour there, I couldn¡¯t wait anymore. So the two of us said goodbye to them through the intercom that had been set up, not that they could understand us, and headed out. We took a moment to change into our costumes a few blocks away from the shop, then made our way to the back door and into the main room where everyone else was already waiting. As soon as she saw me, Amber (dressed as That-A-Way of course) approached as I was headed for the restroom, handing me a small sack from the store while whispering, ¡°Are you sure about this?¡±


    Coughing, I shook my head while stepping into the restroom to take the stuff out of the bag. ¡°Sure about it working? Absolutely not. Sure that it¡¯s the best choice we¡¯ve got? Yeah. We don''t exactly have a lot of good options here. And considering I can see how exhausted you are even with that mask on? I don''t think your people have anything better either.¡±


    My words made her wince. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right, we¡¯re just barely treading water right now. And the big bads haven¡¯t even made any real moves yet. They¡¯re waiting until we¡¯re too worn out to put up much of a fight. But we can¡¯t just not step in when the Prev gangs make trouble. It¡¯s not just the Star-Touched that were hit with that attack, you know. There were a bunch of important cops in that building too. The police leadership has been practically crippled. Which doesn¡¯t help their communication and organization issues. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not good.¡±


    That pretty much matched what I had heard before, but still made the knot in my stomach worsen. ¡°That¡¯s why we have to do this. He¡¯s the guy who did this, so he¡¯ll know how to stop it. We can¡¯t play into his hands by telling the authorities to get him out of there. We¡¯ll get the machine and figure out where to go from there, how to¡­ you know, get answers out of that bastard.¡±


    As we were talking, I used the hair dye to make my hair blonde, then used the special tanning spray on the exposed skin of my hands, arms, face, and neck. As a final touch, I added the colored contacts, and then accepted the glasses that Amber handed me. When I put them on and looked in the mirror, I was¡­ well, I was Sierra. Which meant I still looked a lot like myself, but there were just enough differences that if someone didn¡¯t know me that well, they probably wouldn¡¯t immediately recognize me. Normally this wouldn¡¯t even have been necessary, but my picture had been shown on the news a couple times in relation to my parents being affected by this whole thing, and I couldn¡¯t swear that someone during our road trip wouldn¡¯t recognize me. Which was really annoying, but we just had to deal with that.


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    We continued talking for another moment before Amber accepted that this was the only real choice. She still didn''t seem like she liked it very much, which was fair. Still, the two of us returned to the group, and I got my first look at the new Sierra. Or rather, the old Sierra. She had basically done the same thing I just did, only in reverse. She took out the blonde dye, and fixed her hair to have the same pink streaks in front as I did. Aside from her clothes, she looked completely identical to me again--no, she looked identical to how I had looked five minutes earlier. Which was still a bit of a trip.


    As our gazes met, she offered me a very faint smirk. ¡°Have a good trip out there, twin-babe. Don¡¯t do anything I wouldn¡¯t do, but try to do a few things I would, huh?¡±


    ¡°I shudder to think about what your suggestions would be,¡± I shot back, my voice cracking just a little. Yeah, I was nervous. Still, I pushed that feeling away just like I had been clamping down on everything else, and added, ¡°Please do everything I would do and nothing I wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know how many tall buildings I can skateboard off the side of,¡± she noted, ¡°but I¡¯ll do my best to keep it interesting.¡±


    Peyton quickly spoke up. ¡°You guys be careful, okay? You¡¯re just going out there by yourselves, and--and we don¡¯t know what sort of defenses that prick set up, or how many people he has helping him, or--or anything.¡± Her marbles were flying in an agitated halo around her head. ¡°Seriously, I just wish more of us could go with you.¡±


    ¡°We need you here.¡± That was Amber, her voice firm as she looked that way. ¡°Losing Paintball and Poise, even just for a bit, is gonna be hard enough on top of everything else. We¡¯re gonna need all the help we can get.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be back as soon as we can,¡± Paige assured her, and the others. ¡°But seriously, just take care of yourselves, okay? Don¡¯t--¡± She grimaced visibly. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything crazy while we¡¯re gone.¡±


    Sierra made a clear point of rolling her eyes. ¡°Relax, Mother. Just worry about yourselves and what you¡¯re doing. We¡¯ve got this. Right, guys?¡±


    Murphy and Roald exchanged glances before nodding to one another, the latter speaking up. ¡°Yeah.¡± His voice didn¡¯t sound completely confident, but at least he was trying. ¡°We¡¯ll keep it together.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight we will,¡± Murphy confirmed. ¡°You guys just get down there, get that machine, and come back so we can teach that cocksucker what a bad idea this was.¡±


    Wren, hovering in the background, bobbed her head up and down. ¡°Yeah! I mean, I can¡¯t say that word or Uncle Fred won¡¯t let me have ice cream tonight, but get that thing so we can stop him and help everybody! And¡­ and be careful, okay?¡± Her voice cracked just a little at the last bit, betraying just how hard it was for the girl to contain her emotions about this whole situation.


    ¡°Oh don''t worry, we¡¯ll do our part,¡± I promised. ¡°You guys just listen to Sierra. She''s in charge in the field while we''re gone.¡± That was a bit of a hard choice, of course. But out of everyone here who was part of Avant-Guard, Sierra had the most experience and training. No matter how she had started out, I trusted her now. She would keep Peyton, Murphy, and Roald safe out there.


    ¡°Well, no time to waste,¡± Paige put in after we all fell silent for a second. ¡°Let¡¯s go do this thing. I wanna get on the road before traffic gets too nuts.


    ¡°And make absolutely sure you pee before we leave, because I don¡¯t want to stop for awhile.¡±


    ********


    So, after just a bit more talking, we all left the shop together and piled into a van that Fred had waiting. It looked like a completely normal, average green van from the outside, but apparently had a few tricks under the hood just in case we ran into trouble on our way to the¡­ launching point. Not that we expected to, but considering the condition the city was in, better to be safe than sorry. Our luck, if we went out there expecting nothing to happen, we¡¯d run right into an army full of every Fell-Touched who hated our guts.


    Thankfully, we didn¡¯t. We could hear lots of calls going out over the police scanner that was installed in the dash, along with sirens that kept filling the air. But things were quieter where we were. Probably because we took as many back streets as possible, avoiding major intersections. Between that and the fact that most of the city was still hunkered down, these particular roads were almost entirely empty. The whole thing was pretty eerie, to be honest. We knew there was a lot of bad stuff going on all over the city, but because we were avoiding major areas like that, it made the city seem almost empty despite all the sirens and calls over the scanner. Yeah, this wasn¡¯t good. Hearing the cops, ambulances, and firefighters doing their level best to reach the worst of the emergencies, and hearing about the ones they had to push to the bottom of the line, just reinforced that for me. As if it actually needed to be.


    Paige and I exchanged looks while hearing all that, and I nodded once. We both thought the same thing. We had to get to Utah, find that machine, and deal with this right now.


    There was no more discussion about whether this was the right thing to do or not. No one was going to question it after spending 15 minutes listening to all that. Finally, Fred pulled the van over in an old parking lot next to a print shop. This was the best place we''d been able to find while looking at the maps app and comparing it to some scouting the others had done while I was busy. There was a freeway in the distance, with a checkpoint and a roving patrol making sure no one got past. Well, that was their goal anyway. The temporary tower with its floodlights that had been set up was just barely too far away for the guards to notice our arrival in the parking lot. Especially since Fred had doused the lights for the last couple blocks.


    We all piled out and said our goodbyes one more time. I spent a couple minutes with Sierra, telling her everything I could about what she needed to know to imitate me. Not that it was necessary after all the time I had spent earlier writing message after message for her with the same information, but still. It felt like this whole thing was going so quickly. Just that morning the plan had been for those two to leave the city while I stayed here with the others, but now I was the one going. I knew it was the right thing, the only choice really. And I knew we didn''t have any time to waste. It may have felt to me like this was all happening too quickly, but every minute we wasted, the city was put in even more danger. More people would get hurt and die if we stalled around too much.


    Sierra and I changed phones, and recorded a few extra numbers in each just in case. Of course I also said a few last minute things to Izzy and Amber, promising that Paige and I would be back as soon as possible. They, in turn, promised to help cover for me and take care of things here. I gave both of them a hug, then shrugged and did the same for the others.


    ¡°Bring us back something nice,¡± Murphy urged with a small, worried smile. ¡°Like a way to beat the living shit out of that son of a bitch until he coughs up the cure to all this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I think we can handle that,¡± I assured her, trying to feel as confident as I sounded. Or at least as confident as I thought I sounded. From the look on their faces, I might have needed to work on that a little bit.


    Either way, Sierra took the special rifle as Wren handed it out from the van, while Paige and I hooked the harnesses on. They basically looked like a combination belt and suspenders with a silver and blue circle in the middle of the chest area that was a few inches across. We got them all hooked on with a little help, and then Sierra raised the rifle and looked through the scope. She focused on the watchtower first, then shifted a bit to aim past it and off into the fields beyond the patrolled area. The rifle had an active range of a couple miles, and it didn''t have to be completely precise. All that really mattered was getting past the patrols.


    While I was silently wishing I''d had another family dinner with my parents before all this went down, Sierra pulled the trigger. Then she shifted her aim just a tiny bit and fired again, each shot sending one of the teleportation beacons that way.


    Wren quickly moved to hug me tightly once more. ¡°Be careful, please? Come back, as soon as you can. Just call and we¡¯ll teleport you back across.¡±


    Returning the hug, I promised we would. Then Paige and I each touched that circle on the harness, looked at one another, and shoved the button on that inward.


    Instantly, the world spun around me. I felt like I was flying through the wildest roller coaster I''d ever been on. And, to be honest, I''d been on quite a few. I was spinning head over heels, falling, flying up, all of it all at once. It seemed to last for ages, even though it was over in just a couple seconds.


    And just like that, I was lying in the dirt about two miles away from where I¡¯d started. I could see the freeway a hundred yards or so to the left, and the lights from Detroit were far behind me. We were officially on our way, outside Detroit.


    Normally, the freeway would be incredibly busy, even at this time of night. But now, it was dark and empty aside from a few roving trucks. I saw Paige take herself up out of the dirt as well, both of us moving to join each other while waving back in the direction of the others since Sierra would be watching through the scope. ¡°You said you arranged a ride?¡± I asked after making sure the backpack I brought with everything I thought I¡¯d need was still intact.


    She nodded and pointed. ¡°There¡¯ll be a truck waiting for us, but we''ve gotta walk another couple miles first. They wouldn''t bring it any closer.¡±


    ¡°Well then,¡± I managed, ¡°guess we better get moving.


    ¡°I really don''t think we want to be out here once that sun comes up and lets those guys see us.

 Together And Alone 27-04

    After walking in silence for a little while and making sure we weren''t about to be spotted by any patrols on the distant road, I found myself speaking up while glancing toward the figure I could barely see next to me. ¡°You know, every time I look at you, I feel like everything in my life is wrong.¡±


    Even in the darkness, I could see the way she flinched, her head turning to look away while she took a few more silent steps before speaking finally. ¡°I''m sorry you were forced to come out here like this. If there was another choice--¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I interrupted, ¡°that''s not what I meant. I¡¯m not talking about being mad at you for all that¡­ stuff. Well sure, those still aren¡¯t happy memories or anything, but not that. What I mean is, when I look at you it makes me remember that I shouldn''t have experienced anything like that. Neither of us should¡¯ve. Those things should never have happened, and you shouldn¡¯t have been taken by the Banners in the first place, because I should''ve been able to remember you. I should''ve been able to help you. You know, like you asked for when the authorities picked you up after those guys were found dead in that alley. You told them to find me, and that I could help you.¡±


    There was another moment of silence while Paige stopped walking. She looked down at her feet and seemed to be processing that before quietly pointing out, ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. I knew you wouldn¡¯t remember me. I saw them take your memories. I just--¡± She gave a soft sigh of regret. ¡°I was scared right then. I was afraid, and alone, and¡­ and that¡¯s why I said Cassidy. But when they asked me for a last name, I remembered that you didn¡¯t know me anymore.¡±


    We really needed to start walking again, but something the other girl had said struck me. ¡°You said--you said you saw them take my memories. That¡¯s the same thing Sierra said while we were inside the virtual version of my bedroom, back when she was Raige. My closet. You were in my closet when they--when Mr. Kent--¡± I stopped, grimacing at the knot that twisted its way through my stomach. ¡°That''s where your core was, because that¡¯s the spot--the moment where you thought you could''ve made everything better if you did something different, if you had shown yourself.¡±


    ¡°If I interrupted them. If I stopped them.¡± Paige¡¯s voice was quiet. ¡°If I saved you from having your memory erased. Yeah, I could have shown myself, could have told them the truth right then. The two of us could have shown them that you were getting better. And if they didn''t listen, I could have gotten you out of that room until they changed their minds.¡±


    ¡°No you couldn¡¯t,¡± I informed her. ¡°That last part, I mean. Come on, Paige, think about it. My dad was there, right? He''s Silversmith. Do you really think you could have gotten very far dragging me with you if he was on our tails? I think that¡¯s a bit much to ask even for a twelve-year-old super-ninja-cyborg girl. Especially on his home turf. As for the other part, if you showed yourself and tried to talk to them¡­ I dunno. I like to think that wiping my memory wasn''t an easy decision for them, which could mean it would be really hard to talk them out of it once they committed to it. Or maybe that would make it really easy. I''m not sure. It''s not like that''s a decision I''ve had to make myself.¡±


    Kicking the dirt, I gestured. ¡°Come on, we need to keep moving.¡± Once we were underway again, I continued. ¡°Maybe you could have stopped them from taking my memories. But that''s a pretty big maybe. And after that, then what?¡±


    ¡°Then I could have told them the truth,¡± she replied while matching my pace. ¡°I could have told them everything about my father straight up instead of going through Robert Parsons. He¡¯s the one I sent the messages to about what dear old Father was doing so they could stop him. Dad-- Pittman wanted to take your brother and turn him into¡­¡± She trailed off, grimacing. ¡°He wanted to turn him into something like me, something he could control, then send him back and make him murder you. Then confess in public that he killed you because you were going to tell the police about the Ministry. He wanted to kill one of the Evans¡¯ children, turn him into a Biolem, make that Biolem kill their other child, and then expose all their secrets to the whole world while they were still reeling.¡±


    I¡¯d heard all that before, of course. But still, being reminded of it made me pause and grimace at the ground for a moment before quickly moving to catch up while she kept walking. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware of this yet, Paige, but Benjamin Pittman is a real fucking piece of work.¡±


    She snorted humorlessly, her fist tightening. ¡°Tell me about it. I told Parsons about that plan, or most of it, as much as I could. That''s why your parents took care of Pittman in the first place, it¡¯s what put them on his trail.¡±


    ¡°But uhh--¡± I hesitated, unsure of how to ask the next bit. ¡°Why isn''t he dead? I mean, it seems weird that my parents would find out Pittman wanted to do all that and they¡¯d just send him to prison. It feels like their first and last plan for dealing with that would basically be a gunshot to the head. And maybe two more just to be sure.¡± I swallowed hard, before forcing the next words out reluctantly. ¡°Do¡­ do you think they wanted to keep him around just in case? He¡¯s a piece of shit, but look what he built. Look what he¡¯s capable of. Do you think they deliberately kept him alive just in case they could find a way to use him--use that? Like, putting him in a box somewhere until they were ready to deal with him instead of just throwing him out.¡±


    ¡°You mean do I think they saw the potential in what they might be able to get out of his power and kept him alive even though he was a direct threat to you and your brother?¡± Paige¡¯s voice cracked slightly before she finished. Then she sighed heavily. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I wish I did. I thought they¡¯d kill him. I wanted them to kill him. But they didn¡¯t, they had him arrested instead. And that gave him time to realize I was the only one who could have betrayed him. He managed to get a phone in his cell and used that to send word to some of his people and give them new orders. A few of them found me. Those were the ones I killed. It was me or them. But they started to use shutdown codes on me. Not enough, I didn¡¯t let them get all the way through the commands. But they got through enough of them to¡­ to make me lock up a bit. I had to restart, so I couldn¡¯t run away after I¡­ after I broke them. The people who found us in the alley thought I was catatonic.¡±


    I took all that in, processing it. ¡°So you realized the Ministry only arrested your father instead of killing him, that he knew you betrayed him and sent people who had command codes to shut you down, and then by the time your system restarted, the Seraph people had you all ¡®safe.¡¯ No wonder you tried to ask for help. No wonder you--¡± I exhaled heavily, kicking a rock along through the weeds. ¡°No wonder you asked for me. And yeah, yeah, I know what you said about me not remembering and all that. But still. I wish I did. I wish I could¡¯ve been there to stop all that from happening.¡±


    The two of us were quiet for another few minutes while we continued on our way. As we neared our destination (according to Paige since I still had no idea where we were) I spoke again. ¡°But how did that lead to you being with the Banners? And¡­ and all that extra programming he had to give you for how you were supposed to treat me.¡± My voice sounded a bit hollow at the end, before I forcefully cleared my throat. ¡°One of his people got to you in the Seraphs'' place, didn¡¯t they?¡±


    Paige nodded, looking away from me. ¡°They must have. It¡¯s the only explanation. But my memory of that bit is--it¡¯s fuzzy. Whoever he sent did some real deep work on me. I remember trying to fight them but getting shut down, then¡­ then just a lot of tests. They kept turning me on and off, checking different commands, reinforcing them, that sort of thing. It took weeks, apparently, because¡­ because he was on Breakwater by the time it was over. When his people finally brought me out of it, they told me just what Pittman wanted and how he was going to get it. They made sure I couldn¡¯t warn you or anyone else, that I was--they covered their bases as much as they could. Then they brought the Banners in to go over some of the commands. Not all of them, just enough to keep me under control.¡±


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    It was my turn to flinch. ¡°You were alone. Your hail mary play, betraying your own dad to save my life ended with them arresting him instead of killing him, which gave him time to have you reprogrammed to be back under his control so he could sell you to some rich fucks who didn¡¯t care about you, all to pass the time until you could be in the right position to kill me yourself just to help the same revenge plot you tried to stop in the first place. And then you had to spend the next five years treating me like shit, to make killing me believable, even though you went through all that in the first place just to save my life.¡±


    Saying all that outloud made me start to actually realize just how bad it had been for Paige. But even then, it wasn''t until I made another comparison in my head that I really understood. Or at least came as close to it as possible. What if my parents had taken Izzy away, erased her memories of me, and then forced me to bully her and treat her like shit for years just to work  toward a moment when I was supposed to kill her? That was basically what Paige had gone through, from what I understood.


    I still didn''t have my memories back. I still couldn''t remember being friends with her when we were little. But I knew that she remembered those times. I could imagine what they were like, which meant I could imagine how bad it would feel to go through what she did, and how hard it had been to do the things she¡¯d been forced to do. Obviously I couldn''t really know what that was like. I couldn¡¯t experience it the same way. But imagining it was bad enough. And far more than I wanted to think about.


    ¡°Paige,¡± I found myself saying, stopping short without thinking about it.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± she started, gesturing ahead. ¡°Just a little bit more over the ridge this--what?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I said this before, but I should have.¡± I was reflexively staring at the ground, but I made myself look up. She deserved that much. Meeting the other girl¡¯s gaze as much as I could in the darkness, I continued. ¡°I know that what happened between us wasn¡¯t your fault. What you did--what your father made you do--the way he made you¡­ for all that time wasn¡¯t your choice. It wasn¡¯t you, so you don¡¯t need me to forgive you. There¡¯s no point to being forgiven for something you couldn¡¯t control anyway. It wasn¡¯t your fault. I know that now. I understand it. But just in case it helps even a little bit, I do. I do forgive you for everything. Sorry if that sounds dumb.¡±


    A few extremely long, silent seconds passed while Paige remained almost disturbingly motionless. I was almost afraid that she¡¯d lost power or had to be reset or something. Finally, she spoke, her voice sounding odd and somewhat hoarse. ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound dumb.¡±


    The two of us were motionless for a moment, before I took a step that way. My hand found hers. It was stiff at first, but relaxed as I took hold of it. Our fingers interlocked and I pulled her into a hug. There, in the darkness, the two of us embraced silently. After several long seconds, we let go and stepped back, as Paige spoke in that same hoarse voice. ¡°Thanks, Cassie. You didn¡¯t have to--your parents are sick because of--¡±


    ¡°Because of him,¡± I interrupted. ¡°And so is your sister. That¡¯s why we¡¯re out here. Because we¡¯re gonna do something about it, together. He¡¯s the problem, and we¡¯re gonna deal with him. He doesn¡¯t get to control, or ruin, either of our lives any more. Not after this.¡±


    Paige stared back at me through the darkness for a moment, before giving a nod that I just barely made out. ¡°Yeah. Not after this. So come on.¡± She turned once more, pointing to the hill ahead of us. ¡°The truck should be right over there.¡±


    ¡°Who are these guys you convinced to do this, anyway?¡± I asked while jogging a few steps to catch up. ¡°And when I say that, what I mean is--¡±


    ¡°Is there any chance they could be connected to Pittman?¡± she finished for me before shaking her head. We had crossed the hill by that point, and I saw the green minivan waiting nestled right up against it. There was a small, almost invisible dirt road that I assumed led back to the freeway in that direction, while continuing on the other way out into who knew where.


    ¡°It¡¯s a maintenance road for a power station,¡± Paige informed me when she saw the way I was looking. ¡°Anyway, the guys I hired for this don''t have any connection to my--to Pittman. They live in Cleveland, I¡¯ve used them for a couple other things over the years. They¡¯re discrete and they know how to provide tools. This was a cakerun for them. Believe me, I vetted these guys before I ever did anything with them. Would I trust them with any of our identities? Hell no. But they''re professional enough to do the job they''re paid for.¡± She paused briefly before starting to walk around the van. ¡°That said, it doesn''t hurt to be safe. Stay there for a minute so I can check this thing out and make sure they didn''t ¡®accidentally¡¯ leave any surprises.¡±


    So, I stood out of the way and watched while she went over that vehicle with a fine-tooth comb. That included crawling underneath to check everything there, as well as examining every inch of the interior, going over the engine, and running some sort of scan on the electronics after plugging into the vehicle''s computer. Finally, she nodded to me. ¡°We''re good. They just left a gift basket.¡± Before I could question what sort of criminal slang that was, she reached into the van and pulled out a literal gift basket with various candies and fruit inside, holding it out to me. ¡°See, I told you they were professional. Even left a card.¡±


    Sure enough, there was a card on the basket, which read, ¡®Happy Getaway!¡¯ It was honestly a little surreal. But, given the situation we were in, it still made me smile just a bit. Which was nice.


    Taking a chocolate bar out and unwrapping it, I pushed a piece into my mouth before offering some to the other girl. ¡°How about we get on the road before that sun comes up? How long did you say the drive to this place is supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°Twenty-five hours total,¡± she replied. ¡°We¡¯ll have to break it into two days. I could keep going for longer, and you can sleep in the van, but I think we¡¯ll need to be rested when we get there. No telling what sort of defenses he¡¯s got set up around the place. I¡¯ll drive for twenty hours, then we can rest for a bit and regroup before going the rest of the way.¡±


    ¡°You know, I can drive too,¡± I pointed out while walking around to get in the passenger side.


    Paige just stared at me for a long moment while I was getting settled before flatly replying, ¡°If we get pulled over, I¡¯m the one with the drivers license. And even if you did have a fake one, any cop who sees you behind the wheel is going to take a much closer look than we want them to.¡± As soon as she said that, the girl flinched a little. ¡°I mean¡­ sorry.¡± With a sigh, she added, ¡°I didn''t mean it to come off like that. It''s just--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I get it.¡± Shrugging, I clicked my seatbelt into place. ¡°I get to take advantage of the fact that I look smaller than I should to hide my identity as Paintball, but these are the times when it bites me in the ass. Gotta take the good with the bad.¡±


    After saying all that, I took another bite of chocolate. Because I deserved that, damn it.


    Paige started up the van and pulled out to drive along that dirt road back toward the freeway. We were both silent for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts until the van stopped bouncing along the rocks and dirt and made it onto smooth asphalt. We had both been tensely watching for anyone to intercept us, but the coast this far away from the blockades was clear. Soon, we were cruising south at a steady eighty miles per hour. Settling back in my seat, I looked out the window as we caught up with traffic. We were just another vehicle on the freeway like any other, totally anonymous. The two of us, alone in a van, for at least the next solid day.


    ¡°Hey, Paige,¡± I started after I had worked up my nerve enough. ¡°I know things between us are weird. And I know this is going to be uncomfortable, even¡­ even sad. But you¡¯re really the only one I can ask.¡±


    I fell silent then, but she didn¡¯t prompt me or push. She just waited while I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and forced the next words out.


    ¡°Could you talk to me about Anthony?¡±

 Together And Alone 27-05

    So, while we drove down that freeway alongside all those cars of completely ordinary people going about their normal days, Paige told me everything she knew about Anthony. She started very simply, talking about what he looked like, showing me what his voice sounded like by modulating her own to match his as a child, and even what he smelled like. Apparently asking someone with a computer memory to describe someone ended up getting you a lot of details. Not that I minded at all. I just put my seat back and closed my eyes as she described the boy who had once been my very best friend in the world, before his life was taken away by my grandfather, and his memories by my parents.


    She told me about his favorite foods, the toys he liked, what shows we watched together. She talked about some of the silly arguments she''d heard us have, what games we played with one another, even little things like the fact that Anthony liked to use military time/twenty-four-hour clock instead of the standard twelve hour version. Apparently he''d heard people use it in a movie or something when he was barely old enough to understand time at all, and had thought it was a fun secret code. And speaking of secret codes, he also had a watch that doubled as a voice recorder. He used to hold down the button and talk into it like he was a secret agent, then use the other button to play back the message later. He played the roles of both the field agent like James Bond, and his own boss, passing messages back-and-forth under each different persona through the watch. Which apparently included arguing with himself as each person. But again, only through the watch messages. He would entirely switch characters to record the messages, go somewhere else, then switch again to listen and react.


    Of course Paige and I both had our own secret agent characters as well, so we could help him in the field. According to the other girl, the three of us had once spent an entire afternoon pretending to be convinced that a catering company that was setting up for some party in his parents¡¯ yard were actually Russian spies, whom we had to identify and send pictures of back to headquarters, then ¡®eliminate¡¯ by touching the center of their backs without being seen before managing to do so.


    Was it dumb that it was the description of that silly spy game that finally made the tears start? I still couldn¡¯t actually remember the boy, or any of that stuff myself. But the way she described it was enough for me to see it in my head. I also developed a headache that wouldn''t go away, very quickly into her description. Paige noticed and tried to stop, but I insisted she keep going, that I could handle it. I wanted to handle it. My parents had tried to take away my pain by erasing my memory, but all that did was bury it. I needed this pain.


    So, she continued describing everything she knew about Anthony and my relationship with him. As much as it hurt, as much as it made that pounding in my head worse, it also felt good. I needed it. I needed to hear the words and picture the boy I had lost years earlier. I had to feel all of it, everything I should have felt before.


    All of this actually hurt even more than it would have, considering the situation my parents were in. I could very easily lose them as w-- no, no, I couldn¡¯t think about that. I couldn¡¯t--yes. I had to. I had to allow the thought to enter my mind, no matter how much it practically destroyed me. I loved my parents. Thinking about either of them dying felt like a betrayal of the worst kind, a bigger betrayal than anything else I had done against the Ministry, honestly. This wasn¡¯t about their crimes or choices, it was about their lives. No matter what they had done, they were still my parents, and the very thought that they could die¡­


    But they could. They might actually die before this was over. And if they did, I had no idea how--or if I would ever recover. How could I ever even start to come back from that?


    Thinking about that possibility, while also doing my best to remember anything about my best friend who had been tragically murdered, probably wasn''t doing great things for my emotional health. Or maybe it was, in the long run. I needed to go through this. I needed to process what I had lost with Anthony, as well as the possibility of what could happen if one or both of my parents didn''t make it. Not that I really accepted the latter as an actual possibility beyond my darkest thoughts. But still, I needed to at least think about it, no matter how hard it was.


    Honestly, maybe this was weird, but I thought it was good for Paige too. She had been the one who remembered everything about our history, and Anthony. She had been grieving not only for him, but our entire relationship for the past five plus years. Worse, she had been forced to not only ignore our friendship, but actually had to treat me badly for all that time. I had to think about that for a minute, trying to understand what it would have felt like if one of my best friends died and then my other best friend¡¯s entire memory of our relationship was erased and I had to spend half a decade treating her like shit just so people would believe I would actually try to kill her later.


    Yeah, I was pretty sure I still had absolutely no real concept of what that had been like for her. It was an impossible set of shoes to put myself in. But at the very least, I understood that she had suffered too. The past few years had been far from a picnic for the other girl. That was something I had to keep reminding myself of. Nothing that happened between us through all those years had been her choice. She had spent all that time coming up with the best solution she could for how to avoid killing me. In the end, she¡¯d had to actually do it, but she also brought me back to life. When it really came down to it, she had been willing to kill herself to make sure her father was finally stopped. Her plan had been to end her own life just to protect me, even after suffering for years under her own father¡¯s programming.


    Sometimes I couldn¡¯t help but obsess over that whole thing, especially when I was thinking about Anthony. What would all three of our lives have been like if none of that happened? What if I had grown up with Anthony right there the whole time, and the two of us had to figure out how to help Paige? What if--


    No, now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on that. We had important real things to focus on. Finally, I stopped Paige from talking about Anthony, and turned the subject toward how we were going to handle scouting out the house we were heading for to disable all the traps her father had definitely had his people set up around the place. She had plans for that, of course, but it would be up to me to carry most of it out since it was too dangerous for her to get close until we were absolutely certain there was nothing there that might fuck with her programming. I had the feeling she didn''t like the idea of me getting close to that house and all those potential problems without any backup, especially from her. But it was the best choice we had.


    The other thing I did through all that was keep texting Izzy, Sierra, Wren, and everyone else. I wanted updates about what was going on while I was gone, especially in my own house. Part of me was convinced our little trick would be instantly figured out and exposed. But according to Sierra and Izzy, no one was paying that much attention. They¡¯d gone back to the house together after dropping us off, got up early in the morning, and went to school like it was a completely ordinary day. My ¡®twin¡¯ pretended to be me through breakfast, the ride with Jefferson, and those first couple classes. Some part of me was almost offended that it was so easy for her to fake being me without anyone noticing. But honestly, that was beyond stupid. Of course people didn¡¯t immediately realize I had a secret twin who was now taking my place. Why would they even start to think that? Besides, I wanted her to pull off the switch. Things would be a lot worse if she didn¡¯t. So I pushed those dumb, instinctive thoughts aside and simply sent another message telling her to ask me if she needed any specific answers to anything. If someone asked something she didn¡¯t know the answer to, she should say something about an emergency and run to the restroom. Yeah, it might come off as weird, but that was still better than the alternative.


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    With Amber right there in several of her classes, and sticking by her side in the hallways, this might just work. At least for a few days. I had to hope she wouldn''t need to pose as me for any longer than that. Paige and I were just going straight to that house, where we would grab the machine and bring it back.


    God, I really hoped it would be that simple.


    Eventually, we had been driving for hours and hours. It was just past ten-thirty  in the morning, and I hadn''t had anything to eat since the night before. Even then, I hadn''t been able to force myself to take that much, considering how nervous I¡¯d been about this whole thing. Not that those nerves went away, but I was finally so hungry they were completely outweighed. So, we stopped just off the freeway at a fast food place and ate in the van together. I wolfed down two burgers, fries, and a milkshake like my life depended on it, finishing in record time before slumping back in the seat with a groan. ¡°That was one of the best meals I''ve ever had.¡±


    With a snort, Paige poked me. ¡°Maybe you shouldn''t wait so long between them next time. That can¡¯t be healthy. Not that anything about this meal is healthy anyway.¡± She added that bit while critically examining her own burger before finishing it in a couple bites. Then she brushed her hands off. ¡°You ready to get back on the road before it gets any later?¡±


    I nodded before sitting up. ¡°Yeah, just let me hit the restroom first. Gotta stretch my legs. I¡¯ve never gone this long in a car before. We always take one of the planes when we go on vacation. Or a helicopter. Or a yacht.¡±


    Rubbing two fingers together to demonstrate the world''s smallest violin, Paige rolled her eyes teasingly. ¡°Well, see, that''s what you get for not booking a flight down there ahead of time. We could''ve been done with this already if you''d thought to do that.¡±


    ¡°Yup, totally my fault,¡± I shot back. ¡°But hey, now at least I get to pay for my mistake by suffering through a whole day of driving with you. I think that¡¯s repayment enough.¡± Sticking my tongue out, I laughed despite everything and moved to jog into the restaurant. Yeah, this whole situation was awful. The dark reason we had to be out here like this wouldn¡¯t leave the back of my head. But honestly, I could think of much worse ways to spend this time. And much worse people to spend it with. Which would have seriously blown my mind a few months earlier.


    Shaking off those thoughts, I made it to the restrooms, checked the signs, then headed in and did my business. Only when I came out of the stall did I notice the urinals lining the far wall. Wait¡­ why were there urinals in that--


    This was the mens room. I had stopped in that hallway, looked at the signs, and walked into the mens room. Was I that accustomed to pretending to be a boy? But I wasn¡¯t even doing that right now, so what--why was--why had I¡­


    That was when I heard the first gunshot. Yeah, gunshot, even though I wasn¡¯t sure what it was at first. Or maybe I just didn¡¯t want to admit it. The terrifyingly loud bang wasn¡¯t muffled at all, making me jump as it came from out in the main lobby. It was followed by an assortment of screams that told me it wasn¡¯t a car backfiring or anything innocent like that. No, this was absolutely something bad. Of course. I couldn¡¯t get through a simple meal and continue an important road trip without something like this happening. There just had to be a robbery, or whatever this was, right now.


    Even as those thoughts were running through my head, I heard a man shouting for everyone to get down. Then there were footsteps rapidly approaching this room. I heard the other restroom door slam open, just before the steps continued this way. I was about to have company. Thinking quickly (or possibly not thinking at all), I shot red paint up toward the ceiling above the door and launched myself that way. An instant later, as soon as I was safely out of sight, the door was kicked open and a man wearing a ski mask stepped in. He was directly under me, crouching to look under the stalls for any feet. Praying he wouldn''t look up, which would be incredibly bad considering I wasn''t wearing a mask or anything, I held myself there against the ceiling, staring down at the guy. Should I hit him with something? Take him out right now while he was out of sight from whoever he had come with? I didn¡¯t have my mask or special cuffs or anything. Well, I did technically have my costume with me, since I had Wren¡¯s special bag folded up in my pocket. But I didn¡¯t have time to change into it. I couldn¡¯t even move right now without drawing his attention. I had to stay as still and silent as possible, or he was going to look up and see me.


    And what was Paige doing out there right now? I had absolutely no doubt that she knew what was going on. Especially since I felt vibration in my pocket as my phone buzzed for a text that had to be from the girl herself. Thankfully, it was completely silent. Or at least quiet enough that the man didn''t hear it over the sound of his own shoes squeaking on the floor as he straightened up, apparently satisfied that the restroom was empty. But if I was going to do something about him before he went back out to the main room, it was now or never. The restroom door was shut. I wouldn¡¯t get a chance like this again. These guys, whoever they were, had come into this place firing off guns and traumatizing everyone in here. No matter how inconvenient it was, I had to do something about it. Who knew just how far the assholes would go if their opening move was using a gun?


    With that thought running through my head, along with the sound of the man out in the lobby shouting for people to hand over all their valuables, I made my decision. I couldn''t sit this out. Though I was going to have to be extra careful right now. The last thing I needed was for this guy to see my face. I had the feeling he wouldn''t politely forget it, considering what I was about to do.


    Covering the inside of my shirt with purple paint, and my legs under the jeans with green, I activated both before dropping down behind the guy. On the way, I used black paint on my shoes to silence my landing. All of which meant he had no idea what was about to hit him, as I caught hold of his left arm with my own hand and the back of his neck with the other. In the process, I put black paint on him as well to silence his reaction. Then, keeping my grip on him as he tried to struggle, I used blue paint under my feet to launch myself forward, through the length of the restroom before slamming the man¡¯s face into the far wall. Just before impact, I managed to use one finger to hit the tile with another shot of black so the people outside wouldn¡¯t hear anything.


    The man hit the wall hard, stunning him a bit. Which I took advantage of by pulling his shirt up over his head and tying it into a makeshift blindfold. Yeah, it wasn¡¯t much, but at least it meant he couldn¡¯t easily see me. I was doing the best I could with what I had.


    While he was still stunned, I managed to dig into my pocket for the special bag. There wasn¡¯t time to change right now, but I did get a set of zip ties out. They weren¡¯t staydown cuffs, but hopefully this guy wasn¡¯t strong enough for it to matter. Through all that, the man was struggling violently, clearly doing his best to scream and curse. But I reared back and kicked him hard enough to drive the air out of his lungs, then shoved him onto his stomach and secured his wrists behind his back with one of the zipties, before getting his ankles with another. In the process, I hit him with another shot of black paint to keep the man quiet. Not that that would last forever. I needed a better way of silencing him.


    Thinking quickly on that front, I yanked the man¡¯s shoes off, then took one of his socks and balled it up. Carefully, I pulled his shirt up to expose his mouth, and while he was silently screaming at me, shoved that sock inside. Then I used the other to tie around his head in order to keep it in place, before shoving the shirt back down. Okay. Right now he was still blinded enough that he couldn¡¯t see me, and secured so he couldn¡¯t get away. One down, who knew how many left to go?


    Oh right, someone else probably did. Still listening intently just in case anyone came to check on this guy, I took out my phone and looked for the message. Sure enough, Paige wanted to know if I was okay. Subsequent messages informed me that there were three bad guys in the main dining room, and that they were all armed with handguns. If I didn¡¯t respond, she was going to assume I was in trouble and come in.


    Quickly, I sent a message updating her. Then I stared down at the guy I had secured, before adding, ¡®We need to deal with these guys, without exposing who we are.¡¯ Paintball and Poise were supposed to be locked down in quarantine. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how the nearby authorities would react if they knew we were out here.


    But something told me it would be a lot worse than dealing with a few random thugs robbing a fast food joint.

 Together And Alone 27-06

    Right, so there we were, about thirty minutes outside of Chicago in a random fast food joint that we¡¯d stopped at for just a few minutes to grab lunch. And somehow we had already ended up entangled in some sort of robbery. A robbery that we needed to deal with, and get away from, without actually exposing either our real identities or our Touched ones. If the authorities knew we were away from Detroit where the lockdown was, they''d probably be a bit upset. And I didn¡¯t think the two of us stopping a robbery would make them feel better about that.


    Yeah, this was going to be a bit complicated, to say the least. Thankfully, I had ways of using my powers that weren''t obvious. As long as I put the paint underneath my clothes, I could be fast and strong and all that without actually revealing who I was. On the other hand, revealing that Cassidy Evans had powers would complicate my life just as much as showing them I was Paintball. And while I was very confident that no one out there knew me at a glance, especially with my current disguise, I wasn¡¯t so sure that they wouldn''t have cameras. In fact, I knew they did. There were the security cameras, after all. Security cameras that had already picked me up coming inside here in the first place. And my disguise might not hold up to intense scrutiny. Fortunately, Paige already said she could deal with that once we were done.


    I also had a simple solution to hiding my identity even better than the altered hair and all that right now. I had access to my costume in the bag, and even though I didn''t want to use the whole thing, I could still put on the mask. After all, most people identified Paintball as having the helmet. But I always wore the ski mask under it as well. So, I put that on, as well as the gloves to protect myself from leaving fingerprints, changing both to be black. Then I changed the rest of my clothes to match. Great, fantastic, now I just looked like a burglar or something. Which wasn¡¯t the best thing when stopping a robbery. But at least I wouldn''t be associated with a certain Star-Touched from Detroit. Hopefully, anyway.


    Okay, now my identity was at least somewhat safe. Assuming I could get through this without screwing something up. To that end, I stood next to the doorway and waited while Paige did her own thing. She was working her way around to the back door, where she would disconnect the emergency alarm and slip inside so she could access the security system. Which would allow her to both delete the footage of the two of us, and tell me exactly where every bad guy was. I just hope she worked quickly, before those guys got too antsy about where their buddy was. Right now they seemed to be distracted by everything else involved with using at least four guys to rob a small fast food joint in the middle of the day (seriously, what the fuck) but something told me that wouldn''t last.


    Thankfully, if Paige was one thing, it was efficient. I had barely started to get anxious before the text came back from her to let me know she was in the manager''s office. She''d already dealt with one guy who was in there and now she had control of the cameras. She sent a link that allowed me to connect to them on my phone as well, giving me a view of the whole front lobby and kitchen. I quickly counted four bad guys out there. Three were the ones Paige had noted before, scattered through the lobby holding guns on the customers, while the fourth was up by the grill, keeping the staff under control. And seriously, by my count, that was six guys. Four up front now, one in the manager¡¯s office, and one who had come back into the restroom. Six freaking guys to rob a single fast food joint. How much could they possibly have been expecting to get from that? This whole thing was patently absurd. Maybe these guys were all complete idiots. Overly-armed idiots. It wasn¡¯t out of the question. Or, just as likely, something else was going on that we didn¡¯t understand or have the context for.


    Either way, now I knew where those guys were and could keep an eye on them through the cameras. Between that and the fact that I had my mask in place, it was time to move. So, I sent a text back to Paige, telling her to go ahead and start the distraction. We needed to pull their attention toward the back before I made my move. Sure, these guys seemed dumb. But with those hostages out there, now wasn''t the time to screw anything up or get too cocky. One wrong move, one of those guys losing it and opening fire, and this would be¡­ really bad. It was a thought that made me grimace, trembling a little despite myself. Staring at my hand, I watched it shake before forcing myself to breathe out and steady it somewhat. But not enough. Why now? I had been through dangerous situations before, why was that thought making me freak out? Was it just because we were away from Detroit? Was it all the other stress piling up, including my parents¡¯ situation? Was it the fact that this whole thing seemed so random and absurd?


    All of the above. It was all of the above. Everything was adding up, and in that single moment right as I was waiting for Paige¡¯s distraction, it almost seemed to be too much. Hugging myself tightly, I tried to get my breathing under control. Stop it. Stop shaking. This was a stupid robbery, it was fine. It was going to be fine. I could handle it. No one out there was going to die.


    I was distracted from my turmoil by the buzzing of my phone. It was another message from Paige. ¡®Going for it. Don¡¯t worry, we can handle this. I¡¯ve got your back.¡¯


    That was it, all she said. But reading the message¡­ helped. I closed my eyes briefly, allowing the words to fill my mind. She had my back. We could handle this. And just like that, I could breathe easily again. The knot in my stomach relaxed, as I straightened up and pushed all those doubts and worries away for the moment. My hand finally stopped shaking. All that mattered right now was dealing with this.


    Paige had pretty good timing as well. Because at the very moment that I had pulled myself together, thanks to her message, I heard a shout coming from the back rooms where she was. It was a man''s voice, but I knew Paige was the one talking. ¡°Oh shit, it''s the goddamn motherlode! Get back here and check this out! We''re fucking rich!¡±


    We figured that they weren''t quite stupid enough to send everyone that way and completely leave the hostages unguarded, no matter how excited their partner sounded. But it at least made them move that way a bit, their attention drawn toward the back area. And in that moment, as I watched the guys take their eyes off the hostages reflexively, I pushed open the door and activated the black paint on the inside of my socks, as well as the green lines running down the inside of my pants. A second later, I was sprinting completely silently out of the restroom.


    The way the layout of this place worked, this door was at the very end of the hallway, with the door leading into the actual women¡¯s restroom on the right-hand wall next to it. On the same wall about halfway to the dining room was another door leading into the kitchen. But the three guys out front weren''t heading for that door. They were just planning on moving into the kitchen area by jumping over the front counter. One of them had already done so, joining his partner over there as they both looked toward the back where their partner''s voice had come from. The second guy had his hands on the counter and was staring that way as well, while the third and last guy in the lobby had moved a few steps that way, his back to the hostages. I took all that in with a quick glance at my phone while sprinting down the hall toward the lobby. The guy who was still nearest the hostages had his right side facing me, and I was just barely outside of his peripheral vision as I came out of that hall.


    I could hear the other people in the room, the hostages, reacting to my sudden appearance. But of course, they didn''t know what was going on, especially since I just looked like another thief right then. Ignoring them, I threw myself at that nearest guy with a little assistance from blue paint secretly put on the bottom of my shoes and orange on the inside of my shirt. Before he had any idea what was happening, my body collided with his hard enough to take him to the ground with a strangled yelp.


    I immediately rolled off of him, allowing that initial impact to keep the guy out of the way for a second. Seriously, I may have been small, but getting hit with around a hundred pounds right in the stomach going at top speed probably didn''t feel very good. He wasn''t in a rush to get back up. Well, maybe he was mentally. But physically, it was going to take a moment. Just in case, however, I made sure to quickly kick the gun the man had dropped, sending it skidding across the floor and underneath a booth in the distance.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The other guy who was still in the lobby, the one who hadn¡¯t already jumped over the counter and instead stood right in front of it, heard the commotion and turned. But by the time he did, I had already rolled off the first guy to put myself right near him. While he was taking in the sight of his partner already on the ground struggling to breathe, my foot lashed out to hit his leg, backed up by a bit of hidden purple paint. Which was enough to make that guy stagger and fall to one knee, cursing out loud in a mix of surprise and pain. And before he could recover or catch himself, I punched him in the face, knocking his head backward against the counter he had just been leaning on. Which ended up making him about as eager to keep moving as his buddy.


    Meanwhile, the two guys on the other side of the counter had clearly heard something happen out here. They would have heard their partner curse, but by the time they turned around, he was out of sight from me kicking him in the leg. From their point of view, he had just magically vanished. Already, I could hear them shouting demands about what was going on, where these guys were, and that this definitely wasn¡¯t funny so they should stop fucking around.


    Out of sheer habit, and possibly as a product of my own fear, I opened my mouth reflexively to blurt a joke of some sort. But at the last second I stopped myself. It was already going to be hard enough to keep my identity as Paintball a secret out here. The last thing I needed to do right now was start making jokes that the witnesses would remember. So, I simply pushed myself up, caught the second guy by the face with one hand, and shoved his head backwards into the counter once more with enough force to stun him again. At the same time, my foot kicked the gun he had been holding out of the way as well, off to join the other guy¡¯s.


    By that point, the first guy I had crashed into had picked himself up to his knees and opened his mouth to shout a warning. But I planted my hands against the floor to shove myself upward and outward with my arms, extending one leg until my foot collided with his chin, snapping his mouth shut just as he managed to get a single syllable out. The force of the blow was enough to make him fall backwards on his rear, grabbing his mouth in pain while letting out a flurry of curses. Something told me this wasn¡¯t the sort of situation he¡¯d signed up for when they came to rob this place.


    Meanwhile, everything I was doing out here had definitely fully grabbed the attention of the two guys in the kitchen area. They shouted for their partner to come help and were already coming back to the counter to jump over and see what the hell was happening, since they had completely lost sight of two buddies here and could only hear them cursing and yelping.


    Which meant neither of them paid much attention to the sound of footsteps coming out of the back, assuming it was the guy they just called for. So they were taken by surprise when Paige showed up. Not that I saw her from my position, but I definitely heard her arrival. One guy let out a strangled yelp, followed by a loud crash as he was thrown into something. A second later, there was a thud as the second guy¡¯s head was slammed down into the front counter right there. That was followed by a curse from the first guy as he tried to get up, but Paige did something else that made him crash back down again. That time he stayed in place.


    Popping up to my feet, I took a quick step forward to snap my foot out, kicking the guy I had crashed into once more. He tried to blurt either a threat, or a plea. I wasn¡¯t sure which. Either way, my foot collided with him and he went down, groaning a little.


    That was it. They were done. Turning, I saw Paige for the first time during this whole thing. She was wearing a mask of her own, likely simply taken from the man she had taken out in the office. Our eyes met, and she gave me a quick nod before tossing something my way. Zipties. She had zipties.


    The two of us secured the men on either side of the counter, making sure they couldn¡¯t escape. Then Paige addressed the stunned hostages, who were sitting there staring at us. She told them to call the cops and make sure these guys got picked up. This, of course, was another subtle thing we had come up with to obscure our identities. Normally I was the one who did the talking in these situations. But in this case, I hadn¡¯t said anything at all and she had talked instead.


    Yeah, maybe all of this was pointless. We were like three hundred miles away from Detroit, after all. But still, it never hurt to be careful. I had no idea just how intense the cops out here would be about trying to figure out who we were, so it was best to err on the side of caution.


    With all that done, we didn¡¯t waste any more time. There was no telling how long it would take the authorities to show up here. The two of us raced out the van once more, hopping inside. A second later, Paige peeled out and we were racing out of the parking lot.


    But we didn¡¯t go straight to the freeway. Instead, the other girl simply pulled around behind the nearby self-serve car wash, out of sight. I hopped out, made sure there were no cameras anywhere around, and painted the van so it was red and white instead of green. Paige still had access to the security cameras in the restaurant itself, and had deleted all the footage of the two of us, as well as our van. But we figured the people in there would describe it. Now anyone trying to find us on the freeway would be looking for the wrong color vehicle.


    While I was doing that, Paige had run around to the back of the van, ripping the old license plate off before putting a new one on. Another service from the group who had delivered the vehicle in the first place was leaving a small stack of extra plates to use, apparently.


    As soon as we were both done with that, Paige and I started to run back around to our own doors. But we basically ran into one another, colliding before both of us stumbled back. My hand snapped out to catch one of hers before she could fall, and she did the same for my other hand. We caught each other, stared, and then we were both jumping up and down excitedly. The sudden rush of exhilaration about what we had just done hit me in that moment, as the two of us laughed like overly-caffeinated hyenas and continued hopping wildly. It probably looked really stupid from a distance, but who cared? We were just taking a few seconds to indulge ourselves and be silly.


    A moment later we disengaged and sprinted back around to the right doors to clamber in. Then we were back on the road once more, heading onward. I pulled the mask off and slumped back in the passenger seat, while glancing over at Paige with a shrug. ¡°Well that was an interesting lunch break, huh?¡±


    Snorting, the other girl took her borrowed mask off and dropped it between the seats. ¡°You have a funny definition of the word ¡®break,¡¯ Cassie.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m just glad we didn¡¯t get bored,¡± I shot back, smirking a little despite myself. ¡°Though I kind of worked up another appetite doing all that. You sure we can¡¯t go back for some more fries?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll just have to wait,¡± she informed me primly. ¡°We need to put some miles between us and--¡± Even as she said that, the sound of multiple sirens filled the air. Both of us tensed a bit, but the handful of cop cars simply went screaming past us back the way we had come, heading for the scene of the robbery. We had gotten out of there just in time.


    ¡°That has to be the weirdest attempted robbery I''ve ever heard of,¡± I found myself saying once we were both able to relax. ¡°Six guys with guns just to steal from a fast food place in the middle of the day? What could they possibly have hoped to get away with that would be worth all that? What, were they going to divvy up two hundred bucks amongst themselves or something? This whole situation doesn''t add up. But I guess we''ll never know what was actually going on.¡±


    Paige shrugged. ¡°Oh, I already know what they were stealing. These.¡± With that, she reached into her pocket and took out a small leather bag. Opening it, she showed me while continuing to drive. I looked inside to see a small handful of bright blue gemstones, which seemed to glow and gave off a very soft, almost imperceptible humming sound.


    Eyes widening, I blurted, ¡°Wait, are those--¡±


    ¡°Energy Diamonds, yup,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Designed by that Tech-Touched in Boston. Each of those things hold a hell of a lot of power, enough to help charge up some pretty heavy-duty Touched-Tech without drawing attention from the power company. Seems that whole restaurant back there was a front for smuggling these things around.¡±


    ¡°And you just took them?¡± I managed a little weakly.


    ¡°Not all of them,¡± she corrected me. ¡°Just a few. There was a whole safe full of the things. The cops can have those. But I thought we could let the kid use these ones to charge up that teleportation thing so we don¡¯t have to use Pittman¡¯s energy source. And for anything else she wants to use them for.¡±


    Taking that in, I slowly nodded. ¡°Right, sure. That makes sense. I guess we should use what we can get. Especially when it comes to this. This isn¡¯t the best time to be picky about it. And hey, we¡¯re not even halfway to Utah yet but we¡¯ve already got more resources than we left with.


    ¡°At this rate, we¡¯re gonna have everything we need by the time we get where we¡¯re actually going.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 20

    Simon


    The pool was dark. Both the lights in the ceiling, and those under the water itself, were turned off. This deep underground beneath the Evans¡¯ mansion, the entire area was pitch black. And within that darkness, a single figure floated on his back on top of the water, staring through the void-like shadows. Not that the darkness mattered in this case. Simon Evans wasn''t looking at anything that existed in the physical world. Instead, he was staring into an unknown and potentially nightmarish future. He was staring at the potential future in which his parents never recovered from what had been done to them.


    He didn''t even want to entertain the possibility, of course. He was neither eager nor anywhere near ready to come close to filling their shoes. If it came down to it, there were others in the Ministry leadership who could and would help with that, at least. But so much of their entire organization depended upon both of his parents that it absolutely would not be the same.


    Then there was the fact that they were his parents. From a business perspective, it would''ve been impossible on its own to replace them. But from an emotional one, it was so much worse. A portion of Simon''s entire soul had been set aside since the moment he found out what happened. That portion was devoted solely to quietly and privately despair over the horrific possibility of never talking to his mother and father again. He couldn''t allow it to take up too much of his mind, not with everything else they had to focus on. So, he simply took a part of himself, pushed every personal fear and worry he had about the potential loss of his mom and dad into that piece, and set it aside. Every time he found himself thinking about his mother¡¯s touch against his cheek, or the way his father ruffled his hair while giving him a knowing smirk, he shoved those thoughts into that piece. If the time came and worse came to worse, he would deal with it then. He would let that piece of himself out and give it control. But for now, it wouldn''t accomplish anything.


    At least, that was the idea. That was what he had been trying to do throughout these past couple days, especially when he was around Cassidy and Izzy. He didn''t want to make things even worse for them. Hell, they didn''t even know half of what was really happening, and it was already bad for those two. If they had known the truth, it would be even worse. So no, he had to keep things together for their sake. And, naturally, because he couldn''t afford to look weak in front of the rest of the Ministry. His parents absolutely trusted the main leadership with their lives, but there were others who could potentially smell blood in the water. He wasn''t going to give them any sort of opening.


    Simon knew he was already not a top choice for taking over the Ministry if it came down to it. Besides the fact that he didn''t want that job, he didn''t have the capacity for it. He wasn''t the type to be a leader that way. Hell, even when he was simply in charge of a smaller group, he tended to overcompensate. He tried to make certain no one questioned his ability by lashing out when he didn''t need to. In these private, quiet moments, he could lament those times.


    Paintball. That was definitely the kid who had seen Simon that night. How different would the whole situation have been if Simon hadn''t been so angry? He''d let his frustration about the whole thing, the threat to his sister that had led to putting those two in that hotel and executing them, cloud his judgment. Two people who had discovered some of the truth about the Ministry and threatened Cassidy, sending letters about what could happen to her if their demands weren''t met. Of course he had been pissed off about that. And simply shooting them in the head hadn¡¯t been enough to quell that anger. When he discovered there was a witness, someone else who could potentially threaten his family, Simon had overreacted. Now this boy, who could potentially have been an ally if Simon had just calmed down and tried explaining the situation, knew more than he should.


    He wasn''t sure why that thought came to him when he was so focused on what had happened to his parents. Perhaps because it was another threat to his family, albeit one less immediate and damaging than what they were experiencing right now.


    With a splash of water, Simon straightened in the pool, kicking his legs below him in the darkness while having a long sigh. None of this was helping. Not that he expected it to. He had no medical skills, no science degree, nothing that could actually contribute to getting his parents back on their feet. He¡¯d already made certain the right people were dealing with that, as had the other Ministry leaders. He let them deal with that stuff, simply stamping his okay on anything they brought to him. If his parents trusted those people to handle the day-to-day stuff, then he trusted them too. Not enough to not read through everything they brought, of course. But when it came to making actual decisions requiring expertise and understanding of complex subjects, he took their word for it.


    What he could focus on, on the other hand, were all the leads about where that poison had been created. From what Simon had been able to understand out of what the medical people were saying, it had to have been made somewhere in Detroit or in the surrounding fifty miles or so. The concoction had been too unstable to risk being teleported, and it wouldn''t have lasted very long. Fifty miles was their best estimate for how far away the lab could possibly be. Granted, all of Detroit plus fifty miles in every direction was quite a bit of ground to cover when it came to finding a secret lab. But Simon didn''t care if they had to scour every single inch of every building in that area. They were going to find that lab and deal with everyone who had been responsible for this, no matter what it took.


    One of the first orders of business, as far as that went, had been to check the backgrounds for every single doctor and scientist who had been brought in to try to fix the situation to begin with. As far as Simon was concerned, they were the top suspects. If they were high enough in their field to be considered as people who could cure this problem, then they were high enough to have created it in the first place. Besides, he wouldn''t put it past them to have done this intentionally in order to be brought in so they could sabotage ongoing efforts to fix it or whatever.


    So, he''d ordered the Ministry people to dig into those backgrounds, looking for absolutely anything out of place. They scoured bank records, receipts, broke into homes and went digging through personal belongings, checked every piece of property that was owned, rented, or repeatedly visited by everyone who had been brought in to deal with this. It was a lot of work, and it meant that some of their people were pulled away from keeping a lid on various gangs. Simon didn''t care. Yes, they had to keep the city somewhat together so there would still be a Detroit when his parents woke up. But he also had to get to the bottom of what had really happened. And he was convinced that this was the best way to do that.


    Shaking his head, Simon struck out to swim through the darkness until he reached the side of the pool. His grasping hand found the edge, and he hauled himself out before turning to sit there with his legs still in the water. So much of this didn''t make sense. They were missing something important. Probably several important things.


    The Banners. They were the ones who had been transformed into those bio-weapons. But how? And why? Did Flea ending up on Breakwater have a direct connection to this? It had to, right? There was no way it could possibly be a coincidence. But had someone simply taken advantage of the fact that the Banners would be able to get into the Conservator headquarters to do that much damage?


    No, the Banners had disappeared before Flea did. She had gone off to find them when she vanished. Their adopted daughter, that Paige girl, said that her father was paranoid about business rivals or something. Paige herself was an enigma. She knew so much about the Ministry already that she was a danger just for that. She''d convinced Simon¡¯s parents to leave her alone based on the promise not to release any of the files she had. Honestly, Simon was pretty sure if they really tried, the Ministry could deal with that and silence her. But his mother had been curious about the girl and the potential she had. His parents were always looking for people they could recruit for the future. This Paige chick probably already would''ve been recruited if she didn''t have that history with Cassidy. As far as Simon knew, his parents were waiting to see if that could be resolved before extending an offer to join them.


    Reaching out, the boy grabbed a nearby towel from where he left it, then rose and dried himself off. Maybe he should go find Paige himself and talk to her. Not as Simon, of course. His mother wasn''t awake to use her illusion power, but he could still disguise himself. If he found the girl and got her to tell him everything she knew or even suspected about what was going on, that could lead to some answers. Yeah, it was a long shot, but those could pay off sometimes. Drying his hair while making a thoughtful noise under his breath, Simon pivoted and walked toward the locker room. On the way, he spoke clearly. ¡°Lights fifteen percent.¡± The pale illumination came up as ordered so he could find his way out of the pool room without breaking his neck.


    If he did talk to Paige and get answers out of her, maybe he could fast forward this whole recruitment thing. He honestly had no idea what the hell her problem with Cassidy was. From everything he''d heard about the girl besides that, she was perfectly pleasant to others. She just seemed to have some completely irrational hatred of Simon¡¯s little sister. Hell, maybe he could do Cassidy a favor by ending that as well. It was definitely something to think about.


    He finished drying and dressed himself in the locker room, then took the elevator back up to the main floor of the house. No one was awake at this point. At least, he didn''t think they were. Then the boy stepped into the dining room to get a late snack and almost jumped at the sight of someone else already sitting at the table with the lights turned almost all the way off. They were simply a silhouette that his eyes snapped to. ¡°Fuck, Cassidy? You scared the shit out of me.¡±


    For her part, his little sister simply took another bite of the sandwich she was eating and eyed him curiously. ¡°You''re up late,¡± she remarked.


    ¡°Me?¡± Simon recovered from his surprise and gave her a look while ordering the lights to come up a bit so he could see her better. There was something different about the girl, something slightly off. But that was stupid and ridiculous. He was just jumpy thanks to what had happened to their parents. It made him confused and paranoid. And God, how would Cass react if she knew what he was thinking? She already had enough to deal with. So he firmly pushed that entire thought aside and added, ¡°Don''t you have school to go to in the morning?¡±


    Oh, fuck. What if that was the wrong thing to say? Quickly, he added, ¡°I mean, it''s no big deal if you want to stay home. I think we can deal. I mean--¡± Fuck! What was he supposed to say right now? How could he make this better? Hell, how could he possibly stop screwing up this conversation? If Cassidy couldn''t deal with school right now, who was he to try to say she should?


    Finally, the girl shook her head and spoke clearly. ¡°It''s okay, I''m going to school. I''ll get to bed soon. I just couldn''t lay up there anymore, you know?¡±


    Simon sighed and moved to sit next to her. After a bit of hesitation, he put his hand on her shoulder. ¡°Trust me, I get it. But Mom and Dad are going to be okay. They''ve got the best people in the world helping them. There''s no way whatever this stuff is could ever beat that.¡± God dammit, why did he say that? What if the worst did happen? He¡¯d basically just promised Cassidy it wouldn''t. How could he get her hopes up like that when it really could still go badly? But what else was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell her to be ready for their parents to die? That would be even worse.


    While those thoughts were stampeding through his head, Cassidy moved her own hand to rest on top of his on her shoulder. ¡°I know. If it''s possible to fix this, they will. There''s a lot of really good people dealing with it. And probably some bad ones too.¡± She added that part with a small smirk before adding, ¡°I mean, it''s the government, right? They probably aren''t exactly discriminating about who they hire to deal with this.¡±


    Shaking his head as he pondered how the girl would react if she had the slightest idea how right she was, Simon replied, ¡°Yeah, something like that. Personally, I don''t really care who they hire, as long as Mom and Dad come back. And all those other people, of course.¡±


    The two of them sat together for another minute in silence before Cassidy passed off the remaining half of her sandwich to him. ¡°I''m gonna try to sleep some more,¡± she informed the boy before heading out.


    Simon watched her go before taking a bite of the sandwich. It really was pretty good. When had Cassidy gotten so skilled at making sandwiches? He took another bite and smiled, though it was mostly a humorous, sad smile. She had been holding out on him when it came to her sandwich making skills, but look at how much they were holding out on her. She probably still had the high ground when it came to that.


    While he was finishing up that sandwich, the phone buzzed in his pocket. Taking it out, Simon checked the ID, then answered. ¡°Tell me you have something useful.¡±


    ¡°Squire,¡± the voice on the other end first addressed him, ¡°yeah, I think we might. Even if it''s not the main lab, we found a place that probably did some of the work on that thing. We haven''t gone in force yet--¡±


    ¡°Don''t,¡± Simon interrupted. ¡°Wait for me to get there. And call up some more guys. I don''t want to take any of this lightly. We go in force and deal with anything inside. I want every person in that building taken alive. Don''t let them trick you into killing them, and don''t let them commit suicide. I want them secured and ready to be interrogated.¡±


    He got the address for the place, a small building about thirty miles west of the city, then disconnected so the other man could start arranging the full force. Looking around the kitchen once more, Simon brushed off his hands and headed for the garage. Cassidy and Izzy would be fine here without him. Security was outside and there were still a few house staff sleeping in their own quarters just in case.


    Still, he had a moment of hesitation. He might not have been fully in charge of the Ministry, thank God, with the other leaders stepping up. On the other hand, he was in charge of his little sisters. If anything happened to them while his parents were hurt, he would never forgive himself. But why had that even occurred to him? This place was safe. No one was after the two of them. It was fine.


    This whole situation with his parents had made him paranoid, that was the only explanation. That and the fact that he had been thinking about those people who had threatened Cassidy before, the ones that led to the whole thing with Paintball. Maybe that was why he had that stupid, morbid thought. Either way, it wasn''t something to deal with right now. Cassidy and Izzy would be fine here for a few hours. They were safer in this house than they would be absolutely anywhere else.


    So, Simon headed for the garage and chose a car. He didn''t want to stand out when they pulled up to that place, so he chose a nondescript dark sedan. It was still a hell of a lot better than it looked from the outside, with enough secret upgrades that it could blow most other cars off the road. But anyone glancing at it would simply see a random car.


    Sitting behind the wheel, Simon glanced toward Royal Thunder, the 71 Cuda that he had driven that night when Paintball had witnessed what happened. What if it was driving that car that brought this whole thing about? For all he knew, the entire reason that boy had come anywhere near that hotel in the first place was because he saw the car. Fuck, why didn''t he drive a nondescript car like he was now? He''d just had to show off by going out for a job like that with a car that called attention to him? If the whole situation would''ve been different just from him keeping his temper under control, how different would it be if he¡¯d taken a different vehicle?


    More importantly, why was he still thinking about that? Paintball had nothing to do with this situation. Was it just because the potential threat to Cassidy was similar to his parents being hurt?


    Yeah, that was probably it. Brains were weird that way.


    Shoving those thoughts firmly aside as hard as he could, Simon shifted the car into gear, hit the button to open the garage, and headed out. Maybe this wouldn¡¯t lead anywhere useful, but it meant he was doing something, at least. He wasn''t just sitting around waiting for word. And if it did lead somewhere, well, he was going to make damn sure they got every answer they needed.


    No matter what sort of damage they had to do in the process.


    *******


    Lion


    ¡°I''m just asking, if it came down to it and there was no other choice, is that something you could deal with?¡± The man who was talking, a dark skinned figure in a black suit and cheap sunglasses, stood in a large garage area. He was staring intently at the tiny figure on the table in front of him.


    That figure focused on her work for a few more seconds. The tiny mouse known as Lion wore a pair of protective goggles over her eyes that had been specially made for her. In her mouth was an equally tiny blowtorch with an attached protective shield she was carefully using on the circuit board she had been adjusting. Her hands were dexterous enough to use something like that themselves, but doing it with her mouth allowed her to get right up close and personal with her equipment and see things from that perspective. She very pointedly didn''t respond to the man''s words until she¡¯d taken the time to adjust the board the way she wanted it. And, of course, given herself time to think.


    Finally, the small yet brilliant mouse let go of the torch and straightened up. ¡°You''re asking if I can put a protective shield over the entire city of Detroit just to make sure whatever contagion was unleashed there doesn''t escape into the wider world. You want me to plan out how to trap over a million people, is that right?¡±


    The man, a representative from the government, sighed. ¡°None of us want that at all, Miss Lion, I promise. We''re just saying, if this situation gets worse and the only solution is to block off the city, how difficult would that be?¡±


    Somehow, that tiny mouse was able to give him a look that would have withered stone. ¡°Difficult physically or morally? I don''t like that idea. I don''t want to think about it.¡± Then she gave a soft sigh of her own while drumming her tiny paws against the table. ¡°But, I suppose it would be possible. It wouldn''t even be that difficult, at least with the resources you''re talking about.¡±


    ¡°If it came down to it,¡± the man assured her, ¡°resources would be no object. Like I said, this isn''t something we''d want to do lightly. We''ve got the city locked down as much as we can without taking permanent action. But if this is the sort of thing that''s going to escalate, we have to explore every possible option, even if it remains in hypotheticals for the moment.¡±


    Lion promised the man she would think about what he said and conceive of a possible solution. What she didn''t tell him was that she was also going to think about other ways to deal with it besides sealing up the entire city.


    Once he left, she lost herself in her work for another hour or so, though her heart wasn''t really in it. All she could think about were the people she knew in Detroit. Lucent was there, as was that brilliant young Tech-Touched she had helped out so recently. Could she possibly even think about finding a way to lock up all those people in that city so no one could get out? No, there had to be another way. They had to be able to identify and eliminate this disease. It wasn''t the first time Lion had wished that her specialty lay in some other category, but this particular moment was stronger than most. Yes, she usually loved the fact that she could build such incredible defensive structures, yet right now she would have given that up for a focus on diseases and medicine. Not only would that mean that she wouldn''t have been asked to think about this sort of thing, she actually would''ve been able to contribute to fixing the actual problem.


    Wait, maybe she actually could do something about the problem. After all, she did have friends in Detroit. It was possible that one of them would know more about what was going on, or be able to find some information.


    That line of thought led the small mouse to another important one. Wren. The girl¡¯s specialty was on transportation, on movement. In some ways it was almost the opposite of Lion¡¯s. While her own inventions were centered on creating things that were stationary for the most part, or at least hard to move, Trevithick¡¯s were all about moving. If anyone could potentially explain how Flea and Trivial have been transported to Breakwater in the first place, it was that girl. And Lion was positive that those two ending up where they did had a big part to do with what had happened. She wasn''t sure exactly how those pieces connected, but it was definitely important. It was entirely too much of a coincidence for the attack to happen right as they were being welcomed back to the city, in the same building no less. She¡¯d heard rumors that the attack was connected to Flea¡¯s family somehow, but people were being tight-lipped about the details for obvious reasons.


    Yes, that was how she could help with this. Some part of her brain would work on that whole containing the city problem just in case. But if Lion had her way, it would never come down to that. She was going to find out the truth about what really happened to those two, how they ended up on Breakwater, and what that had to do with the biological attack. And that whole thing would start with contacting Wren Donovan and finding out if there was anything the girl could tell her about the situation.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Lion just hoped she wasn''t putting too much pressure on that poor girl.


    *********


    Young Flea - 2004


    Irelyn Banners didn¡¯t care about Ricky Pickerson. All her friends thought she did, because he was the cutest boy in school. Which was a thing that they, as the very mature twelve-year-olds they were, had to be very aware of. The very idea of being seen as a child who was too young to notice such things was utterly mortifying as far as they were concerned. Of course, there was always the chance that she would have been more interested in Dinah Ollers instead, an option that adults in general got so weird about for reasons very few of those in her grade level could understand.


    But no, Irelyn didn¡¯t care about Ricky or Dinah. She didn''t care about any of that stuff, and she didn''t have to play games to pretend to be more mature than she was. She had responsibilities, real ones. Responsibilities she herself had chosen in most respects, but responsibilities in real life. She couldn''t just walk away from them. Even if she wanted to, there was no way her father would allow it. This might have been something she chose to do herself at first, but now that her dad was involved, it was all regulated and controlled. And, of course, her father¡¯s primary focus was on how he could make money off of it. Off of her.


    All those thoughts weighed on the young girl''s mind as she sat at the cafeteria table in the school listening to her friends chattering away about Ricky and Dinah. She had no idea why they were so interested in making her declare who she was interested in. It all seemed so pointless, but she kept an easy smile plastered to her face and replied as mysteriously as she could, as though she was simply keeping the subject of her interest a secret. That didn''t exactly discourage them from pushing the issue, but it kept them busy and occupied.


    Finally, she could take it no longer and excused herself. Of course, her friends decided she was heading off to meet someone and giggled to themselves about who it could be.That was the only thing on their minds, it seemed like. What boy (or girl) was Irelyn making time for?


    She knew why they thought like that, why their minds were so focused on who she ¡®liked.¡¯ She was Irelyn Banners. Her parents were the richest people in--sorry, second-richest people in the city. That amendment weighed heavily on her father, as it had since the very moment their status had changed. For over a decade, her family had been the richest people in a failing city. Her dad had enjoyed a sort of special status where everyone who was anyone in the city paid attention to him and asked for favors. His money was tied to businesses outside of the city, but he was more than capable of benevolently donating to whatever he wanted to. Some people said that Detroit was only kept afloat thanks to the kind donations from Aaron Banners. Even when she had been as young as a first-grader, Irelyn had understood how that made her father feel. It had been everything to him. And losing that status to the Evans had become everything.


    As she made her way through the wide corridors of this school, which had only been built about a year and a half earlier thanks to donations from both her family and the Evans (her dad had been angrily matching everything they donated in an effort to out-do them, so the building was completely state of the art in every respect), Irelyn thought briefly about what things had been like just a few weeks earlier. That was before her parents had found out about her extracurricular activities.


    A few days after her twelfth birthday, Irelyn had run out of the house to hide within one of the fountains on the grounds. There was a problem with the pipes for that particular fountain and it had been empty for almost a year, becoming her favorite spot to sit and think. Or, in this case, stay away from her dad while he was angrily ranting about Elena and Sterling Evans. He never got violent or anything. Her dad wasn''t that sort of man. But she didn''t like to hear him so upset. Hiding out in her fountain, the young girl had been startled by the appearance of a strange glowing orb. She touched it, had seen images from her life in a gray, formless void, and had come out of the situation with incredible powers.


    At that time, it had only been a few years since those orbs first started showing up. But even as young as she was, Irelyn had known what it meant. She was a superhero. Or she could be. For those first few seconds, she had almost immediately gone to run inside to tell her parents what happened. But in her excitement, she ended up using her new powers for the first time to jump all the way from the back patio to the balcony outside their window, a nearly one-hundred-foot leap. Clinging there, the startled girl had heard her dad going on and on about what they could do to take the Evans down a peg. Hearing how angry and vindictive he was about something as silly as who the richest family in town might''ve been made her realize that telling him was a bad idea.


    So, she hadn¡¯t. Instead, the young girl had begun sneaking out of the house using a cobbled-together costume. One piece of that costume was an old samurai mask she found in storage. But even with the costume and her powers, she didn''t go out to fight crime or save people, not at first. No, her primary goal in leaving the house was to get away from her angry father and experience true freedom. For her entire existence up to that point, so much of her life had been completely planned out for her. Her parents scheduled every minute of her day, filling it with activities that were supposed to make her look good to future prospective universities. Even the girl¡¯s leisure time was carefully scheduled. Her only real time alone, where she could do anything she wanted, was when she was supposed to sleep. Which, of course, she couldn¡¯t do much with.


    At least, not until the orb happened. Because with those came one very important power. Not her jumping ability, not her enhanced strength that made her the equivalent of most adults, not even the speed boost that meant she could run almost thirty miles per hour. No, all those were really good, but they weren¡¯t what kept her going for so long. That was entirely thanks to her stamina-drain power. Anytime she used it, people close to the girl got tired, and she felt more energized. It wasn¡¯t exactly a one-for-one exchange, as she only gained a bit of energy for everything she drained, but it still helped. She could use it just a little bit while walking through a crowd, make a lot of people just a tiny bit more tired than they would have been, and be fully energized after a few minutes. As long as she spaced out who she was affecting, no one really noticed or was hurt by it.


    Which had meant that she could go through her family¡¯s whole daily schedule for her, make sure to drain enough people just a little bit over the entire day so she wouldn¡¯t get tired, then sneak out at night and have some actual fun. With that boost, all she needed was an hour or so of sleep. Other than that, she was free. And for hours and hours through those first nights, the young girl had reveled in that freedom by tearing through the city. She leapt from building to building, her speed and jumping power opening up the world to her in a way it had never been before. She¡¯d had all night long, night after night, to explore, to learn about the city she lived in, to escape the responsibilities and expectations of her family.


    It was only after about a month of that exploration and freedom that Irelyn had first used her powers to help someone else. While sitting on the edge of a roof watching the city around her, she had seen a man being dragged down an alley by some really bad-looking people. So, Irelyn jumped down there. The men had laughed at her samurai mask and tried to grab her, but she avoided them. Her speed combined with the fact that she was as strong as they were, even if she lacked any real training, allowed the girl to escape their grasps and keep them moving until her draining power, which she had cranked up as high as it would go, knocked them out.


    Of course, that meant the man she had jumped down there to save in the first place had been unconscious too. But Irelyn dragged him away from the bad guys, then called the police using his phone. When they showed up, she ran away, afraid that they would try to detain her and call her parents.


    But from that moment, seeing that she could make a difference, Irelyn had continued to do so for a while. Equipping herself with a Y-style slingshot that she could use to hit people from various heights and distances, the twelve-year-old had spent almost two months stopping small crimes here and there. She didn''t find problems every night, and if they looked too dangerous, she simply called the police using a disposable phone she had taken from one of the first muggers she''d helped catch. The mobility of her powers meant she could get into areas they didn¡¯t expect her to be, where she could hide and describe everything they were doing for the incoming authorities. Often, she used her slingshot to make them angry enough to stick around trying to catch her if they were about to leave, occupying them long enough for the police to arrive.


    All of that had worked well enough until one night a few months after she first gained her powers. She had misjudged how much weight a crate attached to a chain could hold. When she landed on it, the chain broke and she fell. In most cases, that wouldn¡¯t have mattered. She could fall basically any distance and be just fine, as long as she landed on her feet. But with that fall, she¡¯d landed on her arm and broke it, along with her wrist. Thankfully, the police showed up and took her to the hospital. But that had been the end of her parents not knowing. With those injuries, they¡¯d had to be notified.


    To say her father had been angry was an understatement. He couldn''t believe she would keep such a secret from him, especially when he realized that it had been going on for months. And he made it clear that she was not to go out on her own anymore. Instead, he was going to sign her up for a brand new program that had just been started that year. It was called the Minority, a national organization where young people with powers, Touched as they called them, could train with each other and help stop crime. Basically it was a training program, which they could graduate from to join one of the adult teams with some actual experience.


    For three weeks now, Irelyn had been with this ¡®Minority.¡¯ She was the youngest person on the team, by far. The other five members were all at least fifteen. Three years might not have seemed like that much to adults, but for teenagers, it was an eternity. They all treated her like a child whom they could barely tolerate, more of a mascot than a teammate. And none wanted her to go out with them. Thanks to her jumping power, they had begun referring to her as ¡®an annoying flea,¡¯ a name which had stuck. Now she was and would always be Flea.


    Leaving the school through a backdoor while all those thoughts were on her mind, Irelyn checked her phone. There were still twenty minutes left of her lunch period. So she could get a little running in. Finding a place to hide, she put on the samurai-mask from her backpack. It wasn¡¯t the same as the one she¡¯d taken from her family¡¯s storage. This was a special mask that was bulletproof. It was also specifically made so that the shape of the eye holes enhanced her own quarter-Asian features so that anyone who looked at her like that would go away with a much different idea of what she looked like under the mask. That had been the idea of the people who talked her father into putting her into this new Minority. Anything that helped hide her identity. If anyone trying to find out who this tiny girl really was kept searching for an Asian child who matched her physical description, the real Irelyn would stay safe.


    With her mask and gloves on to keep her identity secret, Irelyn went for a run. Of course, for her, that meant jumping from roof to roof through the city. It helped the girl clear her head and be ready to be ignored and treated like a pest by her teammates. None of them wanted her there, and being put on ¡®Flea-duty¡¯ was seen as a punishment. No matter who she was partnered with for a training patrol through the city, they always complained. It meant they would inevitably see almost no action. When Flea was with them, they had strict orders about where to go and how much to intervene. She was there to train and observe, not to become directly involved in dangerous situations. At most, they could report to the proper authorities and step in only if there was an immediate threat. Which of course meant some heavily exaggerated the meaning of both immediate and threat, but still. They always saw her as an anchor around their necks, a weight chaining them down and stopping them from true heroics. No matter what she did or what she said, no matter how much she tried to be friends with her teammates, none of them wanted her around. Which wasn¡¯t helped by the fact that she wasn¡¯t allowed to let them know who she really was. Her father wanted that kept secret even from the people she was training with, since he didn¡¯t trust ¡®some random children¡¯ not to expose Irelyn and her family. The rest of the Minority teenagers all knew each other in their civilian lives and were allowed to hang out. But Flea, in addition to being the child mascot chaining them down, never revealed who she really was. So there would always be a vast gulf between them. They didn¡¯t know her, and they absolutely didn¡¯t want her involved with their lives.


    Ten minutes into her mind-clearing run, as she struggled to keep thoughts of her supposed teammates out of her mind, Irelyn heard a loud clang against the edge of the roof she had just landed on. Jumping a bit, she spun and looked down in time to see a figure climbing up toward her. The strange part was that the figure was climbing on nothing. Oh, her motions made it look as though she was climbing a ladder. Her hands reached up and grasped empty air as though it was an invisible rung, pulling herself up and putting her foot down on another one. She just kept climbing on nothing.


    Confused as she watched the person climb toward her, Irelyn reached down to feel for an invisible ladder, but felt nothing. Guardedly, she stepped back and watched as whoever it was climbed all the way up and scrambled onto the roof. Only then did she get a good look at them. The person seemed to be no older than she was, an eleven or twelve-year-old. She was also dressed in a costume of her own, one consisting of a blue turtleneck, mismatched blue and white gloves that clearly came from very different sets, baggy white pants, simple tennis shoes, and a blue ski mask. It looked like something she had put together out of a lost and found box. Straightening up, the girl waved both hands and cheerfully greeted Irelyn with a quick, ¡°Hiya! You¡¯re that Minor girl, right? Flea.¡±


    ¡°Minority,¡± Irelyn reflexively corrected. ¡°But, um, who are you? And what was that?¡± She gestured toward the edge of the roof.


    ¡°Oh that? That¡¯s my power!¡± the other girl informed her with obvious excitement. ¡°Watch this.¡± Looking around quickly, she bent to pick up a small rock and gave it a light toss toward Irelyn. It bounced off the girl¡¯s chest and fell to the ground.


    ¡°Uh.¡± Confused as to what that was supposed to mean, Irelyn looked down, then back up again just in time to see the stranger make another throwing motion, this time with an empty hand. And yet, once again, she felt the rock bounce off her chest just as it had before. A second later, the girl made the same motion but adjusted her aim, and Irelyn felt the rock bounce off her arm and stomach. It didn¡¯t hurt or anything, it was just surprising. And confusing.


    ¡°I¡¯m Echo!¡± came the quick and cheerful explanation. ¡°That¡¯s what I decided to call myself, anyway. I hear things really well. Like, super-well. And whenever I hear an object doing something, I can make a¡­ sort of copy of it. My friend said it''s like having telekinesis but instead of moving things around, I make telekinetic shapes out of the stuff I hear. Or something like that. It has to be pretty close to what I actually heard. Like when I heard my dad put a ladder against our house, so now I can make an invisible ladder against buildings. Or just now because I heard the rock fly over and hit you, and I can make invisible rocks fly at you as long as I make the same sort of motion. I guess it''s sort of like being a mime? I hear something and see what it was, and then if I make the same motion I saw that made that sound, I can make the same effect. Does that make sense?¡±


    ¡°But I felt the rock,¡± Irelyn pointed out. ¡°I couldn¡¯t feel the ladder.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s kinda weird like that,¡± Echo agreed. ¡°I think other people can only feel the things I make if it''s really quick, like being hit by the rock. If it''s something long-term like a ladder or a bridge, only I can use it. Watch this!¡± She held her hand and gave the other girl a high-five. Then she stepped back and made the same motion with her hand from a few feet away, and Irelyn felt that quick hand slap once more.


    ¡°Or uhh, this.¡± Moving her hands as though holding a bucket, Echo made a motion to throw the contents toward Irelyn. Immediately, the other girl felt what she could have sworn was a buckets-worth of water splashing all over her front. It should have left her soaked. And yet, a second after it happened, she wasn¡¯t wet at all.


    ¡°It feels real, huh?¡± Echo happily put in. ¡°I did it to myself a few times too. If I heard some guy throw a brick at someone really hard and then copied it, you¡¯d have a bruise. But if it¡¯s something like water, you only feel that first bit before it goes away. I guess because there¡¯s not actually any water to keep you wet? So you get the first feeling of it, but it only lasts for a second.¡±


    This was a lot to take in, to say the least. But above everything else, Irelyn was simply ecstatic to meet another person her age with powers. The two of them moved to the edge of the roof and sat down to talk. Which they did for hours, through the rest of the school day. Her dad was upset when he found out about her skipping afternoon classes, but he got over that very quickly as soon as she told him about Echo. The idea that he could potentially be responsible for introducing two full Touched into the city made the man forget all about the classes she had missed. And so, very soon, Echo joined the Minority as well. Which meant Irelyn had a friend to hang out with. Soon, the two of them were all but inseparable. Together, they learned how to be real heroes.


    Until all of that changed.


    ******


    Four Years Later, 2008


    ¡°Echo, stop! What are you doing?!¡± Now sixteen years old, Flea stood on the edge of a tall hotel deep in downtown Detroit. She had her sling extended from one hand. After the past four years, she was no longer considered a helpless child, and hadn¡¯t been for quite some time. As soon as she had been allowed to involve herself in fights regularly, the girl had been given the proper equipment for that. But rather than go back to using a slingshot the way she had while on her own, she had been taught to use a real old-style sling. That allowed Irelyn to use her actual enhanced strength properly. The sling itself was attached to her glove, retracting back into it when not needed and extending out into place, attached via her index finger, whenever she squeezed her hand a certain way.


    Of course, she had broken several peoples¡¯ bones with that sling. Jumping around to good vantage points, producing a piece of ammunition from her belt, and then whipping it at arms and legs, had done more than her fair share of damage. So she had also been taught to use a blunt sword to protect herself close in. When it came down to it, being close enough for her stamina-draining power to kick in was actually safer for the bad guys than hitting them with her sling was. That simply put them to sleep. But she had to be within grabbing range to do so. Thus, learning to protect herself at close range. And after four full years of training, she was very good at that.


    The sword may have been dull, but she could still do some damage with it by hitting someone in the right place. Right now, she definitely wanted to hit someone, she just wasn''t sure who. The sword was gripped in her left hand while she kept the sling in her right, already loaded with a piece of hard plastic ammunition. On the far side of the roof stood the girl who has been her friend for the past several years, her closest confidant in the Minority, even after the rest of the team had opened up to them more and others closer to their age had joined. The two of them had planned on going into the new security team Irelyn¡¯s father was putting together. He¡¯d already promised them the top positions. They would leave the Minority once they were eighteen, and step right into leading the field team of a private security firm.


    At least, that was what was supposed to happen.


    ¡°Hey, sorry, babe. You weren¡¯t supposed to find out like this.¡± Echo--or Haley as she was known in their civilian lives, wore a much better costume than she¡¯d had that first time they met. It consisted of a similar color scheme, with a white turtleneck that was actually reinforced to protect her from most impacts, a blue jacket, white full face-covering helmet with a blue visor, black cargo pants, and combat boots. She held a baton in one hand, while the other was free.


    ¡°Find out what,¡± Irelyn shot back, ¡°that you¡¯ve been helping the bad guys for¡­ for¡­ how long?¡± She gestured toward the unconscious detective and the bag of money laying nearby. ¡°I thought he was lying. I was going to prove he was wrong about you, that you hadn¡¯t actually been taking bribes all this time. How many criminals got away because you let them go in exchange for a quick buck, Haley?¡±


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t judge me!¡± the other girl shot back. ¡°You¡¯ve been rich as fuck your whole life. You don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like to need something and not be able to--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t try that!¡± Irelyn interrupted. ¡°You¡¯re my best friend, you know I would¡¯ve given you anything you asked for.¡±


    Echo¡¯s head shook rapidly. ¡°Given! Given me anything?! Don¡¯t you get it? That still wouldn¡¯t be mine, it wouldn¡¯t belong to me. It¡¯d be charity from you.¡±


    ¡°And taking dirty money is better?¡± Irelyn was aghast. ¡°Detective Deeks said it was more than that. You didn¡¯t just accept bribes, you stole stuff yourself. You used your connections through the Minority to find out where patrols would be, where security was light, even how to break into places without getting caught. Is that true?¡±


    Instead of directly answering, which was an answer in and of itself, Haley chuckled softly. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not gonna fight you. I¡¯ll never fight you. I might not be into this hero thing as much as you are, but you¡¯re still my friend. You¡¯re like a sister to me. But I guess you won¡¯t keep this to yourself. So I¡¯m gonna walk away now, Irelyn.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere,¡± Flea, she had to be Flea right now, and the person in front of her had to be Echo. It hurt too much to think of herself as Irelyn and the other girl as Haley. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me, and--¡±


    Before she could finish the sentence, Echo moved one hand up, shaping her fingers in the pantomime of a pistol. A second later, a loud gunshot filled the air. Another use of her power. Flea had seen her friend ¡®echo¡¯ guns in order to actually shoot things before, though in this case she was only using the sound to interrupt.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I really am.¡± Echo certainly sounded like she was. ¡°I never wanted it to turn out like this. I thought I could convince you to come with me, to switch sides. But you just don¡¯t have it in you. You¡¯re not that sort of person.¡±


    ¡°Look, we don¡¯t have to do this,¡± Flea pleaded. ¡°We can still--¡±


    Again, she was interrupted. But this time, Echo held out both hands, making a motion as though she was holding a hose. The sound of hissing gas filled the air, and Flea¡¯s vision was suddenly blocked. Fog. She¡¯d seen the girl use this trick before. Even though there was actually nothing in the air, she could temporarily blind people by ¡®echoing¡¯ the sound of the one time they had encountered a man using a backpack-based fog machine. Her powers had grown enough by that point that she could temporarily induce dozens of effects, including this blindness.


    Flea immediately leapt into the air, but even once she was clear of the ¡®fog¡¯ it didn¡¯t help. The way Echo¡¯s powers worked, she would be blind for the next few seconds no matter where she went, just because she was within range of the ¡®fog¡¯ at the start. Long enough that, once the blindness cleared, her friend was long gone with the bag full of money.


    For hours, then days, then weeks, and even months, Irelyn tried to find her missing friend. But Haley had fled the city entirely. She was gone. Occasionally, they would hear about her popping up in one city or another for a job. But she never came back to Detroit. Because no matter what she became, no matter how many bad guys she worked with, there was one promise she kept.


    She would never fight the girl who had been her best friend.


    ******


    Present Day


    ¡°Hey, you don¡¯t have a parachute!¡± the pilot of the small plane flying as close to Detroit as they were legally allowed to with everything going on right then called over his shoulder toward the figure standing by the open doorway. ¡°You¡¯re gonna die from this height!¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry,¡± the now-adult Echo replied. She still wore a nearly identical-looking costume to what she¡¯d had during her time in the Minority, aside from the dark blue jacket being changed to a matching trench coat. ¡°I¡¯ll just pretend.¡±


    With that, before the man could react, she jumped from the plane she had hired and plummeted for several seconds. Once she had fallen far enough, the twenty-eight-year-old woman focused on her power. Summoning up the memory of hearing parachutes open in the past, she applied that to her current situation. And just like that, the sound of a parachute unfurling filled the air and her fall was slowed. Gradually, she began safely drifting through the dark night sky toward the lights of the city in the distance.


    Haley Torres had sworn that she would never come back to Detroit. But now¡­ now she finally had a decent reason to. She was going to find out who was responsible for hurting Irelyn Banners. And then she was going to kill them.


    Even if she had to burn the whole fucking city to the ground in the process.

 Together And Alone 27-07

    Well hey, we weren''t even halfway to our destination and we already had those energy crystal things, which was going to help in the long run. That had to be a good sign about how our trip was going to go, right? Unless it was more of a consolation prize because we were going to completely fail and-- no, Cassidy, don''t let yourself think like that. It wasn¡¯t going to help anything.


    I sort of drifted between positive and negative opinions about the whole situation over the next while, as Paige continued to drive down the freeway. Sometimes we talked and other times we simply rode in silence, watching the cars around us. But it wasn''t an awkward sort of silence. It felt comfortable and just¡­ easy in a way I hadn''t around people that weren''t my family for a long time. Of course, Izzy was included in my family by now, and I had definitely felt comfortable with her. But being this comfortable with Paige? This was new. Unless it wasn¡¯t. That whole thing was still messing with my head. I had this long history with her that I couldn¡¯t actually remember. But maybe my subconscious did and that¡¯s why it was so easy to sit with her like this despite the history I did remember? Yeah, no wonder it was so complicated and headache-inducing whenever I stopped to think about it.


    So, I tried not to think about it. Doing so wasn¡¯t helping right now. I just had to live in the moment. To that end, I pushed all those thoughts out of my head and focused on what was actually happening right now. The two of us were going to get to that town in Utah, find that house, get rid of whatever defenses Pittman had on it, and take the thing back to Detroit.


    We made our way across Iowa while playing various car games, or just talking. Not even about anything important, honestly. We chatted about nothing in particular, about movies, games, people at school, that sort of thing. There was a whole fifteen minutes devoted to debating one actor versus another for the role of a hypothetical movie. It was dumb and pointless. And honestly, it was absolutely wonderful. I was so stressed about my parents and that whole situation back home that letting go of that and simply talking about absolutely nothing important was exactly what I needed. Once in awhile, she passed along a question from Sierra through their connection about how she should react ¡®as me¡¯ to something in school.


    After another few hours in the van following the whole restaurant incident, I was finally too tired to keep my eyes open. It had been a long night, to say the least. We¡¯d had to leave the city, walk a good distance to reach the van, and now we had been driving for about twelve hours by that point, with an interruption for that fight in the middle. Sure, the fight hadn''t taken that long, but it was still draining. I found myself leaning against the far side of the seat, staring out the window as my consciousness gradually left. Cars were passing us, the signs were all the same, the lines along the road blurred together, and the soft music Paige had put on filled the back of my head just enough to lull me even more. She had entirely stopped talking by that point, clearly realizing that I was drifting off. I tried to tell her she should help me stay awake so I could keep her company, but she simply replied that she was fine and that I needed to sleep.


    And eventually, I did. I was completely out of it, dreaming about something to do with visiting the zoo with a couple friends when I was younger before gradually coming out of it. I wasn''t leaning against the other side of the seat near the window anymore. I was laying down with my head on something soft. My eyes opened, only to find myself looking up at Paige. I was laying with my head against her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow while looking at me, waiting until I was clearly fully conscious before calmly noting, ¡°You really are accustomed to having a big bed to roll around on.¡±


    Yeah, if I hadn¡¯t already been fully conscious, that would¡¯ve done it. Eyes widening, I felt my face turn pink as I quickly sat up and shifted around. I¡¯d completely changed position to turn that way and ended up sleeping against Paige while she was trying to drive. How had I done that without waking up? Why didn¡¯t she stop me, or push me back the other way, or--ugghh I was never going to sleep in the car like that again. My face was burning even more as I composed myself. ¡°Sorry,¡± I murmured, shaking my head quickly. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry. You should¡¯ve woken me up.¡±


    ¡°You needed to sleep,¡± she reminded me flatly. ¡°If you¡¯re going to be the one heading into that place first, you can''t do it while you''re exhausted.¡± She still sounded like she wasn''t that happy about the whole idea. She wanted to be the one going in ahead, but that wouldn''t work. Not when we were pretty sure there would be at least some sort of Biolem defenses. Because Fred had a point. Pittman had to have planned for that. He had been the one who wanted us to go there in the first place, back when he was pretending there was a chance we could work together. He had to have planned for Paige to be in the house. So there was no way in hell I was going to let her go in until I checked the place over thoroughly. Yeah, it wasn''t the most perfect plan in the universe. It wasn''t like he couldn''t have security measures to deal with me too. But at least those couldn''t include his voice saying a couple words and completely turning me off or switching me into some sort of obedient kill mode or something. At least, I really hoped they couldn¡¯t.


    Once I calmed down from my embarrassment, I checked what time it was. Late afternoon running into evening. Paige informed me that we were about six hours outside our target, and that she was going to pull over in the next hour or so to get some rest herself. She had been driving for a long time by that point, and wanted to be completely fresh before we had any chance of running into any of Pittman¡¯s goons, be they human or Biolem. We genuinely had no idea what trouble we might run into, but whatever it was, we both had to be ready for it.


    Over the next hour and a half or so, we talked a bit more. I very specifically avoided any discussion of what we were going to find once we got to that house. Instead, I focused on asking Paige a little bit more about Anthony and how that whole situation had been. She¡¯d already told me about how we met, including the part where I had run right into Pittman while playing with Anthony at his house. So basically my relationship with the man had started out with me slamming right into him headfirst to stop the guy in his tracks. Yeah, that uhh¡­ that was weirdly appropriate. Which made me wonder how he would feel if he knew who I really was. Not that I was quite curious enough to risk him finding out. But still, just the thought of how freaked out he might be to learn the truth kind of made me smile a tiny bit inwardly. I¡¯d had a taste of it back in Paige¡¯s Biolem brain with the virtual Pittman, but this would be the real thing.


    To be fair, I didn''t make Paige do all the talking the entire time. As curious as I was about the whole Anthony relationship, it was only fair that I talked some too. So, I told her a bit about what had happened with me after I Touched. She already knew the basics, and I had told her some of it along with the others back when I explained the Ministry situation, among other things. But now I just talked about all the little stuff. Things like how I¡¯d tested my power in that unfinished rec center, about the first time I had realized I could paint my skates, or how I had first yanked myself to the top of a building. I talked about a lot of firsts, and about how terrifying and yet fun it had all been. I told her about how I probably threw myself into those early death-defying moments specifically to stop thinking and worrying about my family. Hell, I was still doing that even now. Shutting off my brain to focus solely on jumping and flinging myself from rooftop to rooftop gave me the chance to stop obsessing over the Ministry and just live in the moment. I had to admit that living in those moments, scary as they might have been, helped me keep myself somewhat put together.


    Of course, Paige pointed out that given the person I was, I would¡¯ve thrown myself off roofs anyway even if I didn¡¯t have a reason to want to be distracted. And she was right. There was no way that I could have these powers and not use them the way I was. It didn''t matter what the rest of my life was like. How could I possibly not run around from building to building? I had to shudder inwardly at the thought of what a boring person I would have to be for that.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Eventually, we pulled over at a motel. There was some debate about using a rest stop instead, but we both wanted to shower after walking and then sitting in the van for so long. We felt disgusting. Which, to be fair, I also felt that way emotionally about going to this house in the first place. But at least with a shower I could feel physically clean again.


    Paige used a fake ID to check into the motel, then we headed inside. She showered first while I sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the television. With the news talking about some random traffic report, I called Izzy back in Detroit.


    After a couple rings, she answered with a quick, breathless, ¡°Hey Cass, hang on gotta put Simon in the trunk and try to put out the fire. Do you think your parents will notice a couple cars missing, or like six¡­ seven rooms in the house being destroyed? Eight at most. Sierra did a really bang-up job containing that fight, considering how many guns were involved.¡±


    Catching myself after a second with the realization that she was absolutely messing with me, I blurted, ¡°Okay, that¡¯s not funny.¡± My words were met with a disagreeing snicker from the other girl before I rolled my eyes. ¡°Right, I take it that means things are okay over there?¡±


    ¡°As okay as they can be,¡± she confirmed a bit more soberly. ¡°I''m in your room right now. We just had dinner and Sierra''s getting cleaned up. She really likes your shower, for the record.¡±


    ¡°Our shower,¡± I reflexively corrected while glancing toward this bathroom as I heard the one here running. ¡°And what a coincidence.¡± Shaking that off, I pushed on. ¡°Does that mean you guys ate with Simon?¡± Obviously we¡¯d known that would happen, and there was no reason to think that simply sitting at the same table would allow my brother to instantly realize Sierra wasn¡¯t me. But it was still a thought that made me tense up a bit reflexively. There was too much riding on this. If he even got a little suspicious and paid too much attention to me¡­ but no, I couldn¡¯t focus on that. There was nothing I could do to affect that situation right now, so obsessing wouldn¡¯t help.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied. ¡°He made a big deal out of wanting to eat together. He was a little weird during dinner, but we''re like ninety-eight percent sure that''s just because of everything else going on. You know, it¡¯s like he¡¯s trying to hold everything together or something, doing what he thinks your--¡± She paused briefly. ¡°I mean our parents would want. He left again as soon as dinner was over. I um, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s been sleeping that much.¡±


    Great, now I was worried about my brother for a completely different reason. Absolutely fantastic, really. A wild thought went through my head about calling him to say he should get some sleep and that everything would be okay. But seriously, me calling from some random number and telling my brother he looked tired probably wouldn¡¯t go the way I wanted it to. Especially if he happened to find out the call was coming from some other state halfway across the country. Which, considering how weird that whole situation would be, he would almost certainly look into it. But hey, on the other hand, at least ¡®someone claiming to be his sister calling from several states away to tell him to sleep more¡¯ would probably fairly effectively distract Simon from worrying about our parents.


    Okay, yeah, that still probably wasn¡¯t worth the trouble it would cause.


    Izzy promised me things were going okay. Sierra had gone to school as me and didn¡¯t act completely different, according to what Amber had told her. Apparently the other girl had stuck pretty close to my doppelganger whenever possible, just in case, but nothing weird happened. Or nothing too weird, anyway. Thankfully, with everything that was going on, people would probably excuse ¡®me¡¯ for behaving at least a little oddly.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Izzy agreed when I expressed that thought, ¡°and if anyone does start to suspect that anything weird is going on, she can just hang-glide from a skyscraper straight onto a jetski or something and everyone¡¯ll believe she¡¯s you again.¡±


    Flushing a bit at that, I snorted. ¡°Okay one, you guys need to stay out of my dream journal and don¡¯t you dare let her steal that idea. And two, you guys are completely sure it¡¯s going okay? You¡¯re not just saying that so we don¡¯t come right back? Because you could tell me if everything already fell apart.¡±


    ¡°It didn¡¯t fall apart,¡± she insisted. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Cass, I swear. What about you guys? How¡¯s the drive? You guys didn¡¯t really get in a fight at a burger place, right?¡±


    Oh right, Sierra. Paige would have told her what was going on. So, I confirmed that it was the truth, and told her about the energy things. Which just made Izzy vocally wonder if I was absolutely certain that one of my powers didn¡¯t involve a type of paint that could attract trouble.


    ¡°I guess I¡¯m just lucky that way,¡± I murmured before changing the subject. ¡°Seriously though, it¡¯s fine. We¡¯re¡­. somewhere in Wyoming, a place called Laramie Falls. We¡¯re gonna rest up here for a bit and let Paige sleep, then head down. We should get there early in the morning, before things get too busy. Hopefully before it¡¯s light out. Then we can sneak in, get the machine, and get out before anyone even knows we¡¯re there.¡± That was maybe being a bit optimistic about how the whole situation would go, but hey, I had to at least try.


    ¡°Yeah, good luck.¡± From the sound of her voice, Izzy had her own doubts about how simple it would be, but she didn''t voice them. We just talked a little bit more about how the day had gone over there, and she let me know that she and Sierra were going to head over to the shop to check in. I talked to my doppelganger as well once she got out of the shower, and she asked a couple clarifying questions about some people from school just to make certain she hasn''t said anything wrong in the brief conversations she¡¯d had that she hadn¡¯t already gotten info on through Paige. From everything I heard, it was all normal and under control. I just hoped that it actually would stay that way the whole time I was gone. Just a few days. The city just had to stay relatively calm for a few days. They could handle that, right? They could stick to the normal, Prev-style crime for that long. Just avoid completely blowing up into a maelstrom of Touched destruction until Paige and I finished this.


    And while I was dreaming, I really wanted a diamond pony with a rocket saddle.


    In any case, eventually I let them go and went to take my shower once Paige got out. When I was done and emerged, she was buried under the blankets, sleeping. I kept the TV turned low and sat there watching for awhile to see if they said anything about the situation back home. But there was only about a quick sixty second piece about how things back there were still under control and how the authorities were doing a fine job maintaining order. Which, yeah, of course that was all they were going to say. I managed to get a little more details thanks to posts from people from school whose accounts I followed, and things were a little more dicey according to them. There was still a lot of crime in the streets, even if the Fell gangs were staying quiet. Everyone knew the other shoe would drop soon enough, and the longer it took, the worse they all assumed it was going to be.


    In the end, I slept as well for another hour or so, just to refresh myself. Once we were both awake again, we got some food at the nearby diner in this small town, avoided running into any robberies this time, and then got back on the road. Driving through those final few hours, we talked about what we were going to do, the sort of things I needed to look for and disable. She gave me a list of passcodes that might work, which I recorded on my phone just in case. And mostly, she just warned me over and over again to be careful and to let her know the second anything went wrong.


    Eventually, we drove through Salt Lake City. Tooele was about thirty miles south-west. Which also meant we had to drive past the actual Great Salt Lake, and that was a real treat. It smelled horrible, to the point that we had to roll up the windows. Not that doing so helped completely. Seriously, how did people live around that?


    ¡°It¡¯s the dead algae,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°I mean, the algae feed off the wastewater with all its nutrients, then they die and the bacteria eat them. That produces hydrogen sulfide, which is what we¡¯re smelling. That¡¯s the rotten egg stench.¡±


    ¡°Well I wish it¡¯d knock it off for awhile,¡± I replied, shifting in my seat. ¡°How long till we get there?¡±


    She nodded ahead of us. ¡°Here comes the city limits right now. You sure you¡¯re ready for this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta be, right?¡± I shrugged, offering her a small smile while we cruised right into Tooele, population forty thousand. ¡°Come on, it¡¯ll be okay. We¡¯re gonna handle this, grab that machine, and get out of here.


    ¡°But for the record, when we drive home, we¡¯re taking a route that doesn¡¯t go past that smelly freaking lake.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-08

    Well, we were in Tooele. Which, I had been informed, was pronounced too-ill-uh rather than toolie like it was spelled. At least it wasn''t named after that big smelly lake like the capital of this state was.


    Either way, as we drove through town and looked at all the buildings, I couldn''t help but wonder why Pittman had set up his safe house here. Was there an actual reason, or was this just a nice out-of-the-way town with relatively few people to ask questions? It was small enough to be somewhat quiet and everything, but still populated enough that someone new or different wouldn''t immediately be noticed. Forty thousand seemed like a fairly decent level of population to hide in, after all. Hell, who knew how many of the people here were his own Biolems? Maybe everyone in the neighborhood we were heading toward was secretly his. We were going to have to be careful about that, which was one of the reasons we wanted to get there while it was dark. Anxious as we were to deal with this, we couldn''t rush things. That would''ve been a pretty good way to fuck this whole thing up. We had to take our time and scout out the situation.


    Eventually, we found our way to the street in question. I could see the house right there, and it was tempting to tell Paige to stop so I could just run inside and look for what we needed to get this whole thing over with. But no, we kept driving. Both of us glanced that way and took in everything we could about the place. It was quiet, without any vehicles in the driveway or lights on. The house looked abandoned, though the homes on either side were definitely occupied. I still definitely didn''t trust the idea that this place was going to be that simple to walk into. Not for a second.


    As we continued on to drive around the corner, I spoke up quietly. ¡°You think we should park down the street a bit and walk back? We can always bring the van around once we''ve got the machine secure.¡± My voice was tense. This was it. After over a day of driving, we were right here. If we were going to get what we needed to grab that son of a bitch and get answers out of him, it was going to happen over the next few minutes. Or slightly longer, depending on how long it took to actually get inside.


    Paige gave a short nod, her expression one of intense thought and worry. She definitely still didn''t like the idea of me going in that place by myself to get rid of his anti-Biolem defenses. ¡°I''ll stay far enough back that I shouldn''t trip any sensors. But be careful, Cassidy. He''ll have other things in there too, stuff you aren''t immune to. And if I can''t get anywhere near the place to back you up until you disable those other defenses¡­¡±


    ¡°I''ll be fine, don''t worry so much,¡± I insisted. ¡°Come on, I am capable of standing up for myself without you right behind me, you know.¡± I said it with a little smile despite myself, watching her. It really was strange for me to think of Paige worrying about me so much. But it was also nice. I''d definitely take this over the way our relationship had been for the past few years. Even if it was a weird feeling.


    Paige, for her part, took one of those energy crystal things from her pocket. But this one had a couple wires wrapped around it along with a small button that looked like it had come off a television remote. ¡°Fine, but take this. I set it up so if you hit that button for three seconds, it''ll set off an EMP, basically. The crystal will drain all the electricity out of everything within about a hundred feet or so. Which should include any Biolem orbs. If you get in trouble, set it off. But be careful. I only made one of them. We¡¯ll need the rest for the machine.¡±


    Taking the offered bomb, I grimaced. ¡°Yeah, I''ll be careful with it.¡± I also didn''t want to accidentally set it off right here. If it really did affect Biolems, it would probably take a while for the other girl to reset herself. Longer than I wanted to wait.


    By that point, Paige had found a place to pull over and stop the van. A glance toward the clock on the dash revealed that it was just after four in the morning. If we were going to do this, now was basically the best possible time. So, I sent a text to the others back in Detroit letting them know we had arrived and that I was about to check the place out. Then I put the crystal bomb thing in my pocket carefully before pulling out my mask and gloves. Once again, I wasn''t going in there as Paintball. If I absolutely had to, I would use my powers more openly than I had at the restaurant, as long as I was just dealing with Pittman¡¯s defenses. But I didn''t want anyone else who happened to see me and start wondering why a Touched from Detroit was all the way out here. Especially with the lockdown. That would just create a whole new host of problems for us to deal with.


    Of course, I didn''t put the mask on immediately. I also didn''t want people to look at their windows and see someone in a ski mask walking down the street. That was bound to draw attention we didn''t need anyway, even if they didn''t work for Pittman.


    Together, the two of us stepped out and started moving that way, keeping our eyes open for any trouble. Or anything at all, really. The whole place was incredibly quiet. Almost eerily so. Detroit was never this silent. Not even now with everything locked down. It made me think something must be wrong before I pushed the paranoia aside. This was probably just what things were like in a place that didn''t have over a million people. Even if it did make me feel weird.


    Pushing those thoughts off, I kept walking while scanning the houses around us intently. It didn''t look like there was anyone paying undue attention, or even anyone at all. But I didn''t entirely trust that. There was no way that Pittman would have left this place completely unprotected. Something was going to happen. The only questions were what and when.


    Apparently Paige didn''t see anything either, though she stopped a few houses away from the right one. Neither of us wanted to push things any further than that. Well, she had made it clear that she would risk quite a bit, but not this. As much as she wanted to go in that house, her desire to not be controlled by her father was much stronger.


    So, promising her yet again that I would be careful, I took a breath and kept walking after putting my earbud in and making sure it was connected to her so we could talk. Though we had set it up so I had to unmute my phone every time I wanted to say something, so she wouldn¡¯t accidentally hear any commands from her dad if I set something off. I felt the crystal EMP thing she had given me in one hand while I held the balled-up mask in the other. After giving one last quick glance around and seeing nothing, I pulled the mask on and adjusted it. I already had every bit of paint I could possibly fit underneath my clothes. Whatever happened in there, I was going to be ready for it.


    And just like that, I was standing in front of the house. I had thought long and hard about how to handle this, raising some truly paranoid ideas in my own head about what sort of instant-kill defenses this place could have just for stepping foot on the sidewalk. But then I had dismissed those possibilities. Sure, there would be defenses, but not that extreme. The whole point of this place was to not attract attention. He had a teleportation machine here that was supposed to connect to Breakwater. There was no way in hell he was going to put up an automated defense that would disintegrate the first Girl Scout or church person who happened to try knocking on his door. That would be a good way to get the whole neighborhood shut down and have his little machine found by experts. No, the worst defenses would be inside, where he could be certain that anyone who wasn''t supposed to be in there was already a problem.


    But while I was pretty sure there wouldn¡¯t be lethal defenses right at the front gate or anything, there were cameras, hidden in the branches of a nearby tree and on the house itself. But I avoided those things thanks to my spatial awareness power. I had enough of an understanding of that by this point that it didn''t just tell me they were there, I was able to tell through the shape of things in my mind which way they were facing. I made sure to move under them without being seen and then painted the lenses. Yeah, if anyone was monitoring that, they knew something was wrong. But they wouldn''t know exactly what was happening, or who was here.


    I also found a bunch of pressure plates partially buried in the dirt and grass around the house. I wouldn''t have found them at all, except the same special power that told me where the cameras were pointed those out as well. Another way it had proven itself unfathomably useful.


    I didn''t take the time to dig out whatever those pressure plates were connected to. I needed to get inside before someone saw me. But I did let Paige know, taking a picture of the yard before editing it to mark all the traps before sending that to her.


    Finally, after dealing with all the cameras that could have seen me and sending that picture, I simply walked right up to the front door. Of course, I kept my eyes open and activated a bit of orange paint on the way just in case I was wrong about that whole no lethal defenses thing. It never hurt to be safe.


    Okay, that was a lie. Sometimes it did hurt to be safe. But it was generally the right choice in the long run.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Either way, if anyone did look outside and saw me in a ski mask approaching the front door of this random house, they would''ve called the police by now. Especially considering the way I had been sneaking around to deal with those cameras and check for traps. I probably looked incredibly suspicious. Fortunately, Paige had already connected to the local police scanner and she was going to warn me if a call went out. But a check with her confirmed there was nothing so far.


    Now that I was closer to the door, I could see that it wasn''t in the best shape. Actually, it looked like it had been completely broken off its hinges and then put back hastily. Whoever did it had seemed to be in a hurry, probably to make the door look right from the street before any neighbors noticed. Still, someone had kicked down the door? Suddenly, I had a few thoughts about that, but now wasn''t the time. Instead, I quickly checked around the edges of the door for any obvious booby traps. I was looking for wires, string, putty, anything that shouldn''t have been there and could be a sign of a bomb, alarm, or whatever.


    Nothing, at least as far as I could see. Still, I didn''t trust that. Sure, I wasn''t going in the door anyway, it just would''ve been nice to identify the trap on the front door, because I didn¡¯t believe there was nothing. And sure enough, a glance sideways revealed something against the small mailbox set against the wall next to that door. I squinted closer and realized it wasn¡¯t a mailbox at all. Oh, it would hold mail, sure. But it was also an intercom with a connected computer behind it. Tilting my head, I realized I could hear a very low, quiet¡­ almost static sound. Was this--oh yeah, it had to be part of Pittman¡¯s plan to take Paige back. Grimacing, I put a bit of pink paint on the thing, then used a little bit of purple on myself to rip it off the wall. Yeah, I probably took a little too much satisfaction in crumpling that thing into a ball.


    From there, I walked along the side of the house, watching every spot I stepped on while paying strict attention to my sensory power. I found a couple more pressure plates in the wood, and another intercom thing that was blasting static. The former I avoided and the latter I broke. Then I kept going. Eventually, I reached one of the windows and felt all along the sides for more wires and such. And that time, I found something. There was some sort of tiny glass tube about as long as my finger and slightly thinner than a pencil right up inside the space between the top of the window and the wall of the building. Within was an angry-looking orange red cloudy substance swirling around. If the window was moved very much, it would break the glass vial. And something told me I didn''t want to let whatever that stuff was out. It probably wasn''t a misplaced welcome to the neighborhood present.


    Giving the vial a little bit of orange paint so it wouldn''t break, considering how fragile it had to be, I pried it out and looked at the thing for a moment. I was no chemist or anything, so I had no clue what was in there. I also didn''t trust it not to break in my pocket, so I carefully set the thing aside, planning to pick it up on my way out. Then, on second thought, I took my costume bag out and put it in there. Now there was no way it would be broken or lost. The thing was sitting in a bag back in Detroit. Really, it was too bad this little bag of mine almost certainly wasn¡¯t big enough to put the machine in. It would''ve made sending the whole thing back home a hell of a lot easier. But hey, maybe we¡¯d get lucky and the thing we were here for would be small enough to fit in something about the size of a fanny pack.


    Either way, I checked the other windows just in case I had to make a quick exit or someone else came in here. There were more vials stuck in all of them, and against the door around back. So I took those as well. I wasn''t going to go through any of these windows to get in, but there was no way I was just going to leave them there. If nothing else, one of the others might be able to do something useful with whatever this stuff was. Which just reminded me that we still had to figure out what was in those vials we¡¯d taken from the Ministry base. If only new problems would stop presenting themselves for a little while.


    Finally, I was satisfied as I could be that the cameras were all covered and I had identified all the traps I could find, including a couple more static-producing intercoms. Something told me the inside was going to be much harder to deal with. Pittman may have been careful not to draw attention to this place out here by having a bunch of dead bodies pile up, but he probably had no such qualms about killing any person who made it in.


    Ignoring the windows and the doors I had spent the past couple minutes dealing with, I walked up to a corner of the house behind a lower bush and made sure no one could see me from there before making a pink circle big enough for me to pry it out and clamber through. Which put me in the corner of a small, barely furnished kitchen, next to a rickety cold sink. I had been updating Paige occasionally the whole time (via text as soon as I realized the intercoms were constantly going), and now I let her know where I was. Then I simply knelt there in the shadows, the place only illuminated by a small light over the stove. Silence filled the whole house. Well, aside from the heavy ticking of a clock. And yes, it made me jump as soon as I heard it. Only after assuring myself that it was a normal clock and not a bomb did I breathe again. It was just a normal analog clock attached to the wall, shaped like a cat. The ticking was accompanied by its eyes shifting back and forth. And speaking of paranoia, I pulled the thing off the wall and used pink paint to tear it open. There were no cameras there, nothing special. It was just a clock. Boy, I really was losing it. But could anyone really blame me at this point? Not with this piece of shit involved. I wasn''t going to take anything for granted.


    There were cameras inside this place, one in this very kitchen. But it was pointed toward the window, as expected. Sending Paige a message that I was in safely and hadn¡¯t set anything off, I waited another moment, listening for anyone who might be here. Or anything at all now that the ticking of this clock had stopped. The house could be empty, or there could be a small army of Biolems in the basement.


    Nothing. I couldn¡¯t hear anything at all--wait--no, that was the hum of the nearby refrigerator kicking on. Boy, were those things supposed to groan and creak that much when they were working? That was really distracting.


    Shaking my head and telling myself to focus, I tried again. Nothing else seemed to be happening in this place. Nothing save for--oh, there was another intercom behind the stove. I leaned over and ripped that out as well. Then I took a second to cover the camera before pushing myself up to start walking around carefully.


    From the texts she was sending me, Paige was getting a bit impatient and nervous. Well, a bit more impatient and nervous. I needed to speed this up. So, I started looking around this floor of the house. It was pretty tiny, so that didn¡¯t take long, even considering the fact that I had to carefully deal with cameras and traps. And yes, there were plenty of both. I covered nine more cameras, marked seven pressure plates and a dozen tripwires that were all connected to who knew what, and had to break no less than five laser turret things. At least I assumed they were laser turrets. They were relatively small, the main body being about the size and shape of my fist, with fancy-looking gun barrels only a few inches long. Each of the turret things were situated up in the corners of the rooms and hallways, mostly near the front or back door. Whatever they were meant for or capable of, I shot pink paint at them, followed by red to rip them out of the wall.


    And, of course, I dealt with all the intercoms I could see. Again, this was a small place. You could probably raise your voice a little bit and be heard everywhere inside it. But there were intercoms in every single room, even two in some of them. And most were sort of hidden out of the way, where you wouldn¡¯t immediately notice. Like the one in the living room behind the couch, or the one in the front hall that was on the ceiling directly above the door so you¡¯d have to be looking directly up as you came in to see it. Every single one, as soon as I was anywhere near it, started giving off that same static noise. Yeah, I was definitely leaning toward ¡®secret code hidden in the noise to control any Biolem.¡¯


    Finally, after what seemed like forever, I had the whole ground floor dealt with, as far as I could tell. I did a couple more passes through just to be as certain as possible, then stopped at the doorway leading into the basement. I hadn¡¯t been able to find anything resembling a machine up here, so it had to be downstairs. If it was here at all.


    No. No, I wasn¡¯t going to let myself think that. It was down there. And¡­ well, I had been loud enough by this point that if anyone was down there, they were either setting up an ambush or completely deaf. Either way, I wasn¡¯t using the stairs. Instead, I walked away a short distance into another room near the stairs, pointed my hands down, and sprayed a circle of pink paint on the floor. Then I activated some purple on my legs and stomped a couple times to knock that bit out, making a hole I could see down through.


    Before anyone who was down there could possibly adjust their ambush from the stairs, I quickly dropped down, activating just a bit of yellow paint under my clothes to slow my fall so I could land normally. And just like that, I was in a simple, unfinished basement consisting of cement walls and a matching floor and ceiling. Ahead of me was a¡­. well, it was definitely a machine. The thing was about ten feet wide, reached all the way to the ceiling, and seemed to be made entirely of random sheets of metal, long, twisting tubes with liquid in them, glowing light bulbs, pipes, and more. It looked more like some sort of weird modern art piece than a teleportation machine. But what did I know?


    In any case, if this wasn¡¯t the thing we¡¯d come here for, I was going to be very surprised. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t get much of a chance to look it over. Because at that moment, a voice spoke up. ¡°Well, I think it¡¯s safe to say I¡¯ve got a few questions.¡±


    Spinning that way so fast I almost fell over, I stared at the figure who stood in the corner. It was a good thing the ski mask was still covering my face, because the shock and panic in my expression probably wouldn¡¯t have done much for my reputation. I¡¯d genuinely had no idea anyone was there.


    The man who stood in the corner had a gun, but he wasn¡¯t pointing it at me. He was tall, like NBA player tall, at six feet, eight inches. And built like a truck. His skin was dark, and he was wearing a nice suit.


    Oh, and I instantly recognized him.


    ¡°And boy,¡± Robert--Bobby Parson continued, ¡°do I hope you have some answers.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-09

    For a couple long and incredibly silent seconds, I just stood there in shock staring at the man in front of me. I couldn''t think of anything to say or do. Hell, I couldn''t think of anything at all. I just stood there while a loud static sound seemed to play through my head. Of all the possible things I had considered might happen when we got to this place, running into Robert Parson wasn''t anywhere on the list. What the hell was I supposed to do now? What was he doing here? Where did he come from?


    For his part, the man allowed the silence to carry on for a moment before speaking again. ¡°Something tells me you''re not one of his, are you?¡± He looked me up and down, mouth pursing thoughtfully. ¡°No, you''re definitely not one of his. So my question is, what are you doing here? You''re not just some kid out looking for a thrill, or those traps would''ve caught you. You couldn¡¯t have gotten in here if you didn¡¯t know what you were doing. You disabled them or you snuck past them. Either way, you made it all the way in here because you were looking for that thing.¡± He raised his hand to point at the machine. ¡°Which leads me back to, who are you?¡±


    While I had been standing there lost in my shock, I heard Paige¡¯s increasingly insistent voice through my bluetooth earpiece wanting to know what was going on. She was obviously getting worried. So worried, in fact, that she stopped waiting for a response and said she was coming in. Which she somehow managed to do so quickly and quietly that the first sign that she was even inside was the door to the stairs being kicked open and the sound of her clothing rustling in the air as she jumped all the way to the bottom without hitting a single step.


    ¡°Stop!¡± she snapped that single word even as she landed smoothly with a pistol pointed at Robert. She was holding it steady, and directly at his head as she took in the situation. Only belatedly did she seem to notice who it was, and froze not unlike the way I had. I couldn''t see her expression behind the mask she was wearing as well, but I could imagine it looked similar to my own.


    If he was at all surprised or worried about the second girl who was just showing up and pointed a gun at him, Robert didn''t show it. He simply stood there and looked at both of us curiously before grunting under his breath. ¡°Now that''s a little more curious.¡± His gaze centered on Paige. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure about her, but watching the way you move, you¡¯re definitely one of his creations. So why exactly would any of his creations be breaking into his place here to steal his machine?¡±


    Paige¡¯s voice was dark and brittle, clearly barely containing her anger in that moment. ¡°I''m not his. He doesn''t own me.¡±


    Robert considered that briefly before inclining his head. ¡°Ah. You''re the one who contacted me back then. You''re the one who exposed him in the first place. Then you just disappeared. Or seemed to.¡±


    He went silent for a few seconds, still holding the gun, but without actually pointing it toward either of us. It was just sort of there. Paige hadn''t taken her aim off his head, but he still didn''t seem to care. He paid absolutely no attention to it. Instead, he just stood there looking thoughtful for another few seconds before making a noise of decision.


    ¡°To be honest, for a while I thought you exposed him just to take his place, but then there was nothing. So I thought he killed you before we could take him. Still, I wanted to make sure. So I went through a whole little investigation. Tried to find out everything I could. Which led me around to one thing.¡± He offered a thin smile, holstering the gun pointedly. ¡°How are you doing, Paige?¡±


    It wasn''t too surprising that he knew who she was, not after the clues he had left. Which, to be honest, I still didn''t know why he¡¯d done that or who the clues were for. There were those toys in his cabin that had led me to the file about her in the Seraphs place. But that couldn''t have been for me. He didn''t know anything about me being aware of my parents, and he couldn''t possibly have known I would have any access at all to those files.


    Paige slowly lowered her own pistol and reached up to take the mask off. ¡°If you figured out who I was, why didn''t you ever say anything?¡±


    Robert shook his head. ¡°It seemed to me like you went through a lot of trouble to hide your identity. I assumed you wanted to keep it quiet and live a normal life. At least as normal as you could. Pittman was already in prison. I thought the best way for you to move on was if everyone left you alone. If anyone else knew who you were or what you were capable of, or even where you came from, you¡¯d never get that chance. And after what you did to help stop him, you deserved that much.¡±


    He gave me a brief, curious glance before turning back to her as he added, ¡°I suppose it makes sense that something like this got you to come out here. He''s the one responsible for what happened in Detroit, isn''t he? As soon as I heard about the Breakwater thing and who was involved, I knew it had to be him. That''s why you''re here.¡± He pointed at the machine again. ¡°That thing is supposed to get him off that island somehow. Now please tell me you''re not stupid enough to think you can trade his freedom for the cure to save your adopted sister and everyone else.¡±


    Paige kept her voice flat. ¡°I am nowhere near that stupid. That thing is a teleporter. We''re going to use it to get to him and get the cure the hard way. For him.¡±


    Robert cocked his head a little, absorbing that. ¡°Yeah? What makes you think you can do enough damage to make him give up literally the only advantage he has? I don''t think you''re the type of person to go that far. And even if you were, I don''t think you''re dumb enough to think it would work. He¡¯s not about to give up his advantage no matter how rough you are. Believe me, that¡¯s not a bluff you can win.¡±


    He was still clearly curious about who I was and what I was doing there, along with why I hadn''t said anything yet. I could have spoken, of course. I had my voice changer active under the mask. He wouldn¡¯t immediately recognize me through that. And even if he did, would that be a bad thing? I still didn''t know. There was so much I didn''t understand. Was he still part of the Ministry? Would he tell my parents the second he knew about me? Almost every sense I had was screaming at me to trust him, but could I trust my instincts? Could I trust anything right now? I had no idea. I was so confused and lost and the only thing I could do was stay there frozen, waiting as these two continued their conversation.


    Paige, for her part, shook her head again. ¡°We weren''t planning on torturing him. Let''s just say we have a virtual reality machine. A friend of ours is fixing it up so we can plug Pittman into it and get into his subconscious. We can find out things he doesn''t want us to know by pulling him into virtual reality and making his brain show us the truth.¡±


    Yeah, that had been our plan. We were going to teleport Pittman off of Breakwater or teleport ourselves there, we still weren''t sure on that exact point. But either way, we would have the virtual reality machine and plug him into it. Wren was working on combining her work on that with the suit she had put together to force Ashton to lead us to the vials. The suit worked by reading their subconscious thoughts when they were asked a question and controlling their motor functions to lead us to the place they were thinking of. Wren was pretty sure she could adapt that to work in virtual reality so he would move in the precise way he needed to in order to make the cure. It was our running theory anyway. And, of course, the best shot we had.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    After absorbing that as well, Robert brought his hand up to his chin and ran his fingers along it thoughtfully. Then he grunted. ¡°You''re part of that new Avant Guard group. Poise, right? I haven''t been spending much time in Detroit lately, but I do keep up on things. As much as I can anyway. And from what I''ve heard, that''s the group that could and would try something like this. Which makes you¡­¡± he turned to look at me once more. ¡°Hmm. You''re the right height for a couple, but you''re definitely a girl. So I''m gonna say you''re the one she always partners with. Style, isn''t it? Poise and Style. You''re another one of his creations, one that went rogue too.¡±


    Oh boy. Yes, it was probably a good thing that he was jumping to that very understandable conclusion. After all, we did look identical whenever one of us wasn¡¯t actively disguising ourselves. And if things hadn''t changed at the last minute, Sierra really would have been the other one here. But did I want to let him just keep going along with that assumption? Should I just tell him who I really was? I still didn''t know. I''d been debating that wildly in my head this entire time. He was the man who had saved my life. When I looked at him, everything I had said that I could trust him with my life, with my soul. He would never ever betray me. But up until a few months back, I would''ve thought the same thing about my parents. And part of me still did. My family loved me. They wouldn''t knowingly hurt me either. But even if they wouldn''t knowingly hurt me, would they do something bad thinking it was for my own good? And would this man, whom I also trusted with everything I had despite barely consciously knowing him, do something that was bad just because he thought it was for my own good as well?


    Finally, all I could do was give a short nod. ¡°Pretty much.¡± I kept my answer short, not wanting to say too much even with the voice changer.


    Paige, who had obviously been waiting for me to decide how to answer, rolled with that immediately. ¡°It''s a long story,¡± she informed him slightly. ¡°And not one she likes to get into. So why don''t you tell us why you''re sitting here with this thing?¡±


    Robert glanced at the machine again before turning back to her. ¡°Like I said, I figured out he had to be involved. I''ve been tracing your big sister''s footsteps for a while, trying to figure out how they ended up on Breakwater. That led me to a few of their men, Breakwater¡¯s, that is. They were¡­ well let''s just say they were trying to clean things up and erase any other connections to that place. It turns out Flea and Trivial told those people exactly how they ended up there. But Breakwater didn''t bother telling our authorities. They just sent people over here to erase that trail themselves. On the plus side, it seems those Star-Touched were smart enough not to tell Breakwater the truth until they were on their way home. They kept that little bit of information to themselves to make sure the prison people didn''t try to pull a fast one and accidentally lose them.¡±


    Oh, right. We had wondered about that and whether we would end up finding nothing here because the authorities had already taken the machine. But nothing in what Paige had been able to find in official files or communications had indicated that they had any idea about this place, so we took a shot. Now at least we knew why the officials didn''t know. Of course Breakwater had wanted to cover up something like that. They wouldn''t want anyone, not even the American government, to have their hands on a device that could teleport people onto their island.


    Robert continued easily. ¡°All that led me here, and I''ve been examining this machine trying to decide what to do with it. To tell you the truth, part of me wants to turn it on, go over there, and beat the shit out of Pittman myself. But that wouldn''t really accomplish much, now would it? On the other hand, if you think it could be used to drag him over here, that''s another story.¡±


    I shook my head quickly, the words coming before I really thought about it. ¡°You said it yourself, beating him up wouldn''t accomplish anything. He''s not going to tell us how to make the cure just because we hurt him. We have to get him back to Detroit and plug him into the machine so he has no choice but to show us the truth.¡±


    Robert looked at me, his expression curious once more. But whatever he was thinking, he didn''t give voice to it. Instead, he simply gave a short nod and replied, ¡°You''re probably right. As nice as it might feel to punch that son of a bitch until his face breaks, it wouldn''t get us anywhere. That''s another reason I''ve been sitting here thinking, trying to decide who to involve in this.¡± He looked back-and-forth between us. ¡°Now it seems like I''ve got an answer that I wasn''t even considering.¡±


    All of this was dangerous. It was so very, very dangerous. Involving Robert in this whole situation? How could I even consider it? And yet, was there any other choice? It wasn''t like he was just going to back off and let us do it without him. Not now. We''d given him a potential solution to his problem, a way to get answers out of Pittman. But there was absolutely no way he would just step back and let us do the work ourselves. No, he would have to be involved. Even though involving him ran a very good chance of exposing my identity. And I still didn''t know if that was a good thing or not. There was such a big part of me who wanted to rip off the mask, throw myself at this man I subconsciously trusted so much, and tell him absolutely everything.


    And even beyond that, I wanted to get answers from him. There were so many questions I had about everything, including his cabin out in the woods, what was going on between him and Pencil, and everything else. I needed actual answers, but I was afraid that the only way to ask them was by exposing myself to more danger.


    I was torn, to say the least. I have no idea what the right answer was, and if I did reveal myself, it was something I could never take back. After all, unlike my parents, I didn''t have a convenient person to erase his memory if this went wrong.


    Did that sound bitter? It probably sounded bitter.


    We were all silent for a moment before Paige gestured while starting to move to the stairs she had just leapt down. ¡°Give us a minute, would you?¡±


    Robert gave a simple nod. ¡°Of course. The machine and I¡¯ll just wait here for you.¡±


    Paige and I started to move to the stairs to go up and talk this out. But even as I took a few steps that way, a sound caught my ear. It was coming from Robert''s phone, a chime that filled the air. He glanced at the screen and frowned. ¡°We have company.¡±


    Paige snapped her gaze that way, speaking sharply. ¡°More of Pittman''s people?¡± From the sound of her voice, she was more than willing to take all of her frustration out on them if so.


    Robert, however, shook his head and turned the phone to show us. There was a view of the street outside. I could see our van, but also about six others, all lined up along the curbs. There were people in official looking uniforms going up to the houses around us and pulling people out. I didn''t know what they were telling them, but within just a few seconds dozens of people who lived in this neighborhood were being rushed to one of the vans and driven away.


    ¡°Breakwater people,¡± Robert informed us flatly. ¡°Looks like the guys I took care of had a lot of backup. And they won''t be playing nice.¡±


    Paige made a noise in the back of her throat before sighing. ¡°They also won''t listen if we tell them we need to use the machine to fix this problem, will they?¡±


    Robert grunted, looking down at his pistol as he drew it back from the holster. ¡°No, they won''t. Their job is to protect Breakwater and stop that place from getting any more bad publicity. There''s no way they''ll risk allowing an access point like this to exist, or let anyone else know about it. They''re here to destroy the machine and make sure it can¡¯t ever be used again. They won¡¯t care about fixing the situation in Detroit.¡±


    Of course, this whole situation couldn''t resolve itself peacefully. We couldn''t just get the machine without much fuss and drive home with it. No, even running into Robert wasn''t enough of a complication. Now we had to fight these Breakwater people. Because if they got their way, they''d destroy our only chance of getting answers out of Pittman and fixing this whole situation. I had to fight the people responsible for keeping the worst of the worst supervillains in prison in order to save Irelyn, my parents, and everyone else who had been poisoned.


    But hey, at least I was going to have an exciting road trip story to tell.

 Together And Alone 27-10

    So wasn''t this just absolutely fantastic? Paige and I had come all this way to get this machine so we could force Pittman to tell us how to save her sister, my parents, and all the others. And now it turned out we were going to have to fight a bunch of people from the very same prison that had been meant to stop that son of a bitch from doing this sort of thing in the first place. Granted, I had fantasized about punching those people repeatedly for their complete and utter failure to do their jobs, but not quite like this. Somehow, I wasn''t sure I would actually get any satisfaction this way. For one thing, the people I really wanted to punch were those in charge, not the grunts they sent to clean up their mess. Something told me the people out there weren''t making the real decisions. They were just going to get kicked in the head for them. Which seemed to be about typical.


    While I was processing that, Robert was still looking at the video feed on his phone to check what the people out there were doing as they evacuated everyone from the neighborhood and surrounded the house. He checked his pistol and then glanced at us, his voice flat. ¡°I''d say stay here, but they¡¯re coming from the back too and I can''t be everywhere at once. I''ve seen how both of you move, and I¡¯ve seen how good you are. If they get to this machine it¡¯s over. You got this?¡±


    Oh right, that was another thing. I needed to do all of this without openly and obviously using my powers. Not only because I didn''t want Robert to realize I was Paintball, since that would open a whole can of worms about being a girl, but also because I didn''t want the people out there to realize that Paintball had left Detroit. Yeah, this was even more complicated than I¡¯d thought.


    Still, at least these people weren¡¯t expecting to run into us. We had the element of surprise. Plus, just because I couldn''t openly use my powers didn''t mean I couldn''t find sneaky ways of doing so. That whole thing at the fast food place had shown us that much. I could work with this.


    Pushing all those thoughts out of my head, I gave the man a nod. A dozen things to say came to mind, but most of them were jokes and I still didn''t trust how much I could say in front of him without giving away my identity. Was it weird to think that if I said more than a few sentences around Robert then he would immediately know exactly who I was? He hadn¡¯t even been around me or talked to me or anything for like half a decade. And even when he had been, I was just some kid he was playing bodyguard and driver for. There was no way he¡¯d recognize me.


    And just why in the hell did that thought make me sad?


    There was too much going on for me to spend any time dwelling on stupid and confusing things like that. So I pushed them out of my head while Paige answered for us. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll handle the ones coming in from the back. That is, if you can take the front.¡±


    Starting toward the steps, Robert replied in a soft voice. ¡°I suggest you use whatever toy that one has that let her make a hole in that ceiling to go out the back.¡± He nodded to me, making me belatedly realize that he hadn¡¯t actually seen the pink paint, which explained why he didn¡¯t have any questions on that front. All he knew was that I¡¯d made a hole in the floor above.


    ¡°Watch your backs,¡± the man continued. ¡°If you need help, shout.¡± He paused at the bottom of the staircase and looked back at us with a clearly reluctant frown. It was obvious that he really didn''t like the idea of sending us out there, but couldn''t come up with anything better given the situation. ¡°Just be careful,¡± he reminded us after a brief moment. ¡°These people aren''t playing around. They''re here to cover up something incredibly embarrassing for their employers, which could potentially cost them billions of dollars. They''re not going to stop for anything. You can¡¯t negotiate with them unless you can outbid Breakwater. And they¡¯re not quite that bad off yet.¡±


    Yeah, my allowance wasn¡¯t that big, even if I had been comfortable exposing who my family was. Even combined with Paige, that might be a problem. So, the two of us just nodded and watched as he went up the stairs with an added warning to wait until we heard his signal before making our own move.


    Once he was gone, Paige looked down at her own phone, and I realized she had tapped into the same video feed Robert was watching, the one showing all the Breakwater agents gathering up around the house. Did he know she''d done that?


    Looking over at me, Paige spoke quietly. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re about to move. You ready?¡±


    I knew what she was really asking. She wanted to know if I was actually going to do this without openly using my powers. I could hear the warning in her voice, as well as the promise that if things went wrong and I had to use them, had to expose that much, she would have my back.


    How exactly I read that much in just a couple words like that was a mystery, but there we were.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied simply, looking up toward the hole in the ceiling. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± Activating the blue paint I¡¯d put on the bottom of my shoes while simultaneously leaping, I flew right up through the opening, landing back in that bedroom that was on the other side of the stairs. Paige leapt up right after me, and the two of us glanced carefully out the window there overlooking the backyard. Sure enough, what appeared to be a fully armed and armored SWAT team was carefully approaching the building. It looked like they were doing the same thing I had been, checking for traps. Which had at least bought us some time.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised they don¡¯t know we¡¯re in here,¡± I murmured. ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d have heat sensors and stuff in those helmets, considering what they¡¯re supposed to deal with.¡±


    ¡°The house is shielded,¡± Paige informed me, speaking just as quietly. ¡°None of that sort of tech can see into it. Trust me, I tried.¡±


    Yeah, that made sense, now that I thought about it. Of course Pittman wouldn''t want it to be that easy for the place holding his ticket out of Breakwater to be raided. But really, that also just raised the question of why there weren''t actual Biolem defen-- oh, Robert had dealt with them, of course. Honestly now I was just wondering what he¡¯d done with them.


    But now wasn''t the time to think about that. Fortunately, I was able to multitask and had been covering every bit of the inside of my clothes with as much paint as I could. At the same time, I put a hand on Paige¡¯s sleeve, then the side of her leg to give her some paint under her clothes as well, just in case. The two of us peeked out either side of the window once more and compared that with the camera feed on her phone. I hoped Robert was ready on his side, because we were already cutting it close. Those guys were halfway across the yard. We had to get out there right now if we were going to stop them from getting in the house. Otherwise it would become even harder to keep them away from the machine.


    Of course, we weren''t just going to go barging out the back door. We weren''t that stupid. Instead, I used pink paint on the ceiling of that room and we went up to the second floor, then again to get onto the roof. By the time we were up there, the troops outside were approaching the back patio. There were a dozen of them, and they all had their guns raised and pointed at the building. One guy in the back kept checking some sort of wristwatch he was wearing, calling out whenever they got anywhere near any of the traps buried in the ground so they could step around them. But even more than that, any time he called out, a little laser pointer thing shot out of the watch, hit the part of the ground where the trap was, and made a sort of small, one foot high glowing flag marker thing on it so they¡¯d know where they couldn¡¯t step. Which made me briefly consider the idea of setting them off intentionally to stop those guys, but I wasn''t sure how lethal the traps would be. Besides, there was always the chance that something could happen to the machine if it detected those traps going off. After all, it was a teleportation machine. Maybe it would just disappear. Then this whole situation would be for nothing.


    So, unfortunately, I had to put that brief thought out of my mind. From the hard stare Paige was giving the marked spots, I was pretty sure she was going through a similar process. We both exchanged glances while simultaneously realizing the same thing. It wasn¡¯t just that we couldn¡¯t use the traps to make taking these guys out easier. We also had to avoid accidentally setting them off at all during this fight for the same reason. If we hit someone and they fell on a trap, that could screw this whole thing up and make the machine disappear too. But we also couldn¡¯t risk letting them get into the house because the machine could even end up being damaged that way.


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    All of which meant this was going to be even trickier than I¡¯d thought. We had to keep them out of the house, we couldn¡¯t let them hit any of the traps (or hit any ourselves), and I had to do all of it while handicapped by not using my powers to their full extent. And without giving away that I was Paintball in any other way.


    On the plus side, I didn¡¯t have time to worry about that too much. Because right as I was wondering just how badly this was going to go, the gunfire started out front. Which I was going to go out on a limb and guess was the signal from Robert. A signal that gave us a quick opening as the guys on the grass below reflexively looked toward the sound of those gunshots. So every doubt and uncertainty I had was shoved aside. Whatever we were going to do had to happen right now, before the Breakwater troops recovered.


    Slapping a hand against Paige¡¯s back, I activated one of the orange boosts I¡¯d given her and blurted, ¡°Go!¡±


    She went. Taking a few steps back to give herself a running start, the blonde girl hurled herself off the roof. Her leap was belatedly followed by more gunshots. Only these ones came from right below us. Yeah, we definitely had their attention.


    My first instinct was to throw myself right after Paige, but I stopped myself and waited for two seconds first. I wanted to give the guys down there time to turn toward the spot where she landed instead of jumping right into view while they still had their guns raised at that same spot. That seemed like a good way to get shot about a dozen times. Which, orange paint or not, wouldn¡¯t be much fun.


    On the other hand, letting Paige get hurt wouldn¡¯t be fun either. So, after two seconds that felt like thirty, I launched myself off the roof as well, activating a bit of orange and green paint as I went, while also activating blue paint on my shoes at the last second just to get even more momentum.


    Paige was already on the ground in the middle of the yard, ripping one of the rifles out of a man¡¯s grip while simultaneously kicking another man in the stomach with enough force to make his body fold in on itself as he fell over. And sure enough, the other troops scattered across the yard had pivoted that way, already taking aim. Which meant the two directly below the roof had their backs to me, a fact they would quickly regret as I slammed into both of them from behind. They were standing close enough together that I hit one with both knees while slamming my arms into the guy next to him. Thanks to my green speed combined with being launched by the blue paint on my shoes, I crashed into the two hard enough to knock them down despite my frankly diminutive height. And thanks to the orange protection, I didn¡¯t break half the bones in my body doing so. They, on the other hand, weren¡¯t about to get up in a hurry. I might¡¯ve only weighed like a hundred pounds, but taking a hundred pound cannonball to the back, even with body armor, was probably enough to make most normal people have to lay down for a minute.


    Twelve troops to start and I had just knocked two of them down, right after Paige had already kicked a third while ripping the gun away from a fourth. And while I had taken these two guys to the ground, she had flipped that gun around to slam the butt of it into the faceplate on the helmet of the man she took it from. That guy started to stumble backward before Paige caught his arm, yanking him away from the trap he had been about to step on. She hauled him forward, throwing his rifle overhand to hit another guy¡¯s gun while he was lining up a shot.


    A bullet hit my shoulder from the far side of the porch even as I was picking myself up. The guy there had adjusted faster than I¡¯d expected. Fortunately, the orange paint meant it felt like getting hit with a thrown rock instead of a bullet, but still. I managed to restrain my yelp while pivoting that way. My foot lashed out, kicking the rifle that one of the men had dropped. It went flying that way, making the guy who had shot me recoil reflexively as it crashed into him.


    At the same time, another guy was coming up behind me. I heard him approach, the way his heavy boots sank into the grass and dirt, the way his clothing and body armor rustled in the air, his grunt as he reached out to grab me. But I wasn¡¯t there anymore. Even as my foot came down from kicking the rifle into the other guy, I pivoted on it to twist away from this guy¡¯s grasp. My hands caught his outstretched arm, and I activated hidden purple paint to give myself enough strength to yank him off balance. He stumbled forward and I brought my right foot into the back of his leg to knock him down to his knees right in front of me.


    Before he could recover, I hopped up, planted my left foot against the back of his neck, and kicked off him to send myself right into the guy who had been a few steps over, sighting in on me with his weapon. He dropped his gun and caught me in reflexive surprise, just before I brought both arms down on his shoulders with all the purple-enhanced strength I could muster. That was enough to make the man fall to one knee, allowing my feet to touch the ground so I could grab the front of his helmet, yanking the thing with enough force to pull it off his head. Which meant his face was exposed to my rising knee.


    Blood. There was blood on my knee from where I¡¯d hit the guy¡¯s nose. It was probably broken. Which I felt a little guilty about, but not too much. He recoiled as I released him. But again, before he could fall, I yanked him away from the nearby trap. It wasn¡¯t marked by their laser thing, but I knew it was there.


    Activating another set of purple, green, and orange paint, I stepped aside while shoving the guy over to land on top of the one I had kicked off of to throw myself into this one¡¯s arms. The two of them got tangled up with each other, buying me a couple seconds. Which I used to glance quickly toward Paige so I could activate the same trio of paints for her.


    By that point, the other girl had already put three more guys down. That meant, of the twelve we started with, she¡¯d dealt with five of them. Meanwhile, the two guys I had crashed into weren¡¯t going to be getting up any time soon. And as for the two who were now tangled up and scrambling to separate themselves, I took three quick steps that way and snapped my right foot out, kicking the guy who still had his helmet in the back of it hard enough to knock it into the face of the one who didn¡¯t. Given that guy already had a broken nose, it probably wasn¡¯t much fun. Both of them were definitely cursing up a storm, but weren¡¯t about to jump up again. Nine down, three left.


    One of those three was the guy who had shot me, just now recovering from the gun I had kicked at him. He was already taking aim to shoot me again, but I dove forward and threw myself into a roll while he shot right over my head. As I came out of it barely a foot from one of the trap markers, I was hurling the helmet I¡¯d taken from the other guy that way. It collided with the gunman¡¯s own helmet, and by the time he¡¯d recovered from that, I had already launched myself off the ground, over the trap, and collided with him. He fell against the wall of the house while I ripped the gun out of his hands, pivoted, and slammed the thing into the side of his helmet. That was enough to knock him down, and the follow-up smack into the back of his head from his own weapon made sure he stayed there.


    Two left, and we had thus far managed to avoid setting off any of the traps. I kept hearing gunshots from out front, but all I could do on that was hope Robert was okay. There wasn¡¯t time to focus on anything more than that, considering one of those two remaining guys was coming straight at me.


    He wasn¡¯t using his gun. Instead, he had some sort of electrified baton, snarling a nasty curse as he lunged in to swing at my throat. I still had a bit of time left on my green, enough to barely lean back and turn my head so the baton went right past my cheek. He tried to snap it back to crash into my neck from that side, but I ducked and let it sail over the back of my head. Then my right arm went up, catching his wrist as he brought the baton back for a third swing. Even with my purple-strength, the guy very nearly knocked my arm out of the way and hit me with the baton anyway. It was all I could do to keep myself in place. But I managed it before quickly driving my left fist as hard as I could into his elbow. It was enough to make him drop the baton. Which I caught with my right hand and drove up into his exposed armpit, a spot that wasn¡¯t covered by armor. There was a trigger thing on the handle of the baton, so I pushed it down, sending a jolt of electricity into the man. He scream-cursed at me while spasming a bit before hitting the ground.


    And just like that, it was over. Well, close enough. Not all these guys were knocked out or anything, but they weren¡¯t going to be jumping up to do jumping jacks (or run into the house to blow up the machine) anytime soon. Paige had already put the last one down, leaving the guy holding his stomach and groaning painfully.


    The two of us looked at each other for a second, took in the sight of these guys, then turned quickly to the back door of the house just as it slammed open. But it was just Robert. He came into view, looking a bit bruised and covered in blood that wasn¡¯t his. ¡°Go get your van and pull it in as close as you can.¡± Without waiting for any objections, he added, ¡°We need to grab that machine downstairs and get out of here. These guys have reinforcements coming. Some of which are probably Touched.


    ¡°And we really don¡¯t want to be here when they show up.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 14 - Orb Religions

    The following is a look at three different Orb-centric religions that have come into being ever since Touched began to be a thing in this world.


    The Church Of The Resonant Call


    In the middle of a grassy park, a tall man with short blond hair carefully set a bowl full of punch in the middle of the folding table he had just set up. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark pants. The tie he had originally shown up wearing was balled up in his pocket, and the suit jacket was draped over one of several dozen nearby folding chairs that had been arranged in neat rows in front of a wooden podium.


    The man¡¯s name was Maurice Alverson. Several decades earlier, he had graduated from medical school and even started up a decent private practice. Then things had changed. The orbs had begun to appear and give people incredible gifts. Maurice had seen it for himself when his own son touched one of the orbs and became one of those empowered people. Though only thirteen years old when he¡¯d first Touched, Jake had become incredibly strong, capable of lifting an entire full sized car with one hand. To say nothing of what he could do with both. And he had only got stronger as he grew.


    Unfortunately, physical strength was one thing. There was another sort of strength, and Jake¡­ As his thoughts turned that way, Maurice forcibly pushed them back. Now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on his son¡¯s fall to gambling, or the fact that he spent all his time in Vegas these days playing bouncer and enforcer for criminals. Today was meant to be a celebration. So he pushed those dark thoughts aside and focused.


    After his son had become one of the Touched, and had even gone into the then-fledgling Minority system for a while, Maurice had become involved as well. And after his son left to become¡­ what he was now, he stayed involved. One of the other fathers he had become close to through their children being part of the Minority had introduced him to a group that called themselves The Resonant Call. At one time, they had been a very small group meeting at an old church late at night. But their membership grew quickly in those early days, as the man who had founded their group, a man who abandoned his previous faith with the arrival of the Orbs, continued to convince more and more people that the Orbs themselves were even more than they appeared to be. What had begun as twenty to thirty people meeting in the basement of a church for an hour a week had expanded into a membership of at least fifty thousand across several states here in the midwestern US.


    They were large enough by this point that their founder, Gregor Diamati, had to constantly travel to visit each congregation. Which he did under his own dime. The man was independently wealthy, and had never asked for anything monetarily from his people. He insisted that they give their money to the communities they lived in, to help enrich and improve those areas. Everywhere he set up one of his groups, Diamati also established very specific rules. The churches they built or bought had to be used to give shelter to those in need. The main room could be used for worship, but while it was not in use, it and the rest of the building were to be given over for anyone who needed a place to rest. So long as they followed the rules of the building, which mostly involved cleaning up after themselves, not harming or harassing other residents, and remaining respectful of the service while it was in session, all were welcome. There was no requirement that they be a part of the religion, or even attend. As Diamati put it, the Orbs made no distinction between race, gender, position in life, or anything else, so neither would his church. They were there to offer a time and place to worship the Orbs that had brought their gifts to this world, and to emulate those gifts by providing food and shelter to those in need, no matter what their circumstances might have been.


    Yes, Diamati was a very good man. And a very busy one. He traveled throughout all of his churches, ensuring they weren¡¯t being put to ill-use. Today was the first time in more than six months that he would be back here, visiting the very first congregation he had put together. That was why this was a special day, during which Maurice was not going to allow his thoughts to dwell on his son.


    Thankfully, the sound of footsteps helped with that. The man turned with a bright smile on his face to see several more people approaching with folding chairs under their arms, brought over from the full pickup truck he¡¯d parked in the nearby lot. The nearest, an older gentleman with gray hair and dark skin, called out a greeting. ¡°Morning, Maury! You think we''re gonna have a good turnout today?¡±


    ¡°I hope so, Eddie,¡± Maurice replied easily even as he moved to help take a couple of the chairs from the man. ¡°Really don¡¯t want old Gregor to think we¡¯re slacking off here.¡±


    His words brought an assortment of chuckles, while they all moved to arrange the chairs near the others. Together, he and the rest of the group walked back to the truck to get even more of them, along with the food, cups, and plates that needed to be set out on the table. Before long, the rest of the congregation would begin showing up. They were bound to have a full crowd today. They always did whenever Gregor was there to give a talk. Gregor. That was what he insisted they call him. He wasn¡¯t known as Pastor or Father or even Brother. Nor were any of the others he allowed to run services under his banner. They went by first names in this church. He insisted that titles created a separation between member and speaker that he didn¡¯t want. Which was another thing. Those who led the congregation in worship were known as speakers, not preachers. Their job was to speak, and to lead discussions everyone was allowed-- no, encouraged to participate in.


    Soon, more and more people showed up, filling the small parking lot as they brought their own supplies. There were several hundred chairs all lined up in this section of the park. They had gone to the city for a permit to hold their reunion with the church founder out here, of course. He wanted to hold it here rather than in the church building down the street, preferring the fresh air and bright sunshine these days.


    An air of excitement began to grow as the time of his arrival drew closer. The faithful of the Resonant Call didn''t worship Gregor Diamati of course. He wouldn''t have stood for it if they tried. All glory was meant to go to the Orbs for the gifts that they brought. He was simply a man of great earthly wealth, who used that money to build a large congregation that could help spread the message to aid and care for one another. The orbs brought power and opportunity. Diamati saw it as his duty to help, both in more material ways, and by teaching others that the orbs were messengers from a much higher power.


    Finally, a red and white sedan pulled into the lot. It was a newer car, though not top of the line. It was just a few years old, but with enough miles on it to match one several times its age. As soon as they saw the familiar vehicle, a hush fell over the assembled group. They watched as the car came to a halt, idling briefly before the engine was shut off. First the passenger door opened, and Gregor Diamati¡¯s bodyguard stepped out. He was a Touched man known only as Vicks, a heavily-tanned, dark-haired figure whose locks were long and curly. He wore a red suit with a black shirt and tie, his powers revolving around the creation and control of golem animals made of stone. He went everywhere with the church founder, and had ever since he joined as the sixth member.


    Only once Vicks had surveyed the park and said something toward the car did the driver''s door open. And then, he emerged. The founder of their religion stepped out of his sedan and came into view. He was, from an outside perspective, not that impressive looking. He stood only a few inches over five feet, and was not only visibly paunchy, but also almost entirely bald, save for a ring of hair around the back of his head. More than one person had made comparisons to the character of George Costanza, from the old Seinfeld sitcom.


    In his own past life, before the Touched became a thing, Diamati had traded in antiques. He had built an entire business around that from the ground up, and was a millionaire when people first began to demonstrate powers. One night, an ordinary street gang had ambushed the man outside his mansion and attempted to torture and kill him and his family. In the midst of that, one of the very first people to gain powers and actively use them to do good things had noticed what was going on. His name, or at least the one he was known by, was Blackwalk. With his shadow beast powers, Blackwalk had disabled the attackers and saved Diamati and his family. He¡¯d arrived just in time to stop the man''s five year old daughter from being shot in the head.


    That was why Gregor Diamati devoted the entire rest of his life to creating and maintaining a church that would preach about the glory and power of the orbs that brought these powers. He believed that whether the powers were used for good or evil was the choice of those they were given to. Evil was the fault of human beings. The orbs were sent from a power far beyond comprehension. They came to provide opportunity, as well as some chance for the Earth to defend itself against the Abyssals.


    Some out there, of course, believed that the Abyssals were Touched who had been corrupted. Diamati and his followers, however, knew the truth. The Abyssals would always have come. And without the Orbs, they would have overrun the world already. The Abyssals were demons, and the Orbs had been sent as messengers to give humanity the power they needed to stop those demons.


    Smiling as he approached his first congregation, Diamati greeted them all by name. The same near perfect memory that had served him so well in business when he traded in antiques also helped him remember all of his people. No matter where he went, no matter how large his flock became, the man always knew their names.


    ¡°Maurice,¡± he greeted the man in question while shaking his hand, ¡°it''s so good to see you again. I want you to know that I looked in on your son as we passed through Nevada.¡±


    Swallowing hard, Maurice shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s still using his power to hurt people. He doesn''t understand.¡±


    Diamati lowered his gaze briefly, the sorrow visible in his eyes before he squeezed the other man''s hand a little more firmly. ¡°You''re right, he doesn''t. But we can''t control others or force their hands. All we can do is offer the opportunity to do the right thing, and teach all who will listen why lifting others up will always be better than tearing them down.¡±


    They exchanged a few more words before the man was pulled away to speak to others. Everyone here wanted a moment with him, and why wouldn''t they? Though he made no claim of divinity, and indeed swiftly corrected those who made the mistake, it was hard not to idolize their founder. He was, in no uncertain terms, a very good man.


    Finally, Diamati made his way to the wooden podium while everyone else found their seats. Vicks took a chair to sit directly behind his charge, always watching for any potential threat.


    ¡°Thank you all so much for coming,¡± Diamati greeted them, his loud voice filling the silent air as his eager followers hung on every word.


    ¡°Let us begin with the show of hands. Who among us would like to share a few words about how the orbs have brought happiness into your life over this past year?¡±


    ********


    Grace In His Stars Church


    ¡°We stand on the precipice of utter annihilation!¡± Those booming words filled the large auditorium as a tall, very tan man with a handlebar mustache and full head of dark hair stood with the back of his heels on the edge of the stage, the rest of his feet out in open air over the audience of several hundred he was preaching to. His wild eyes scanned the crowd, ensuring that none of his people dared be distracted in that moment, while he held a Bible up in one hand and shook it to draw their attention that way. ¡°As I stand here, wavering over a fall, so too does our world waver on the brink of collapsing into the endless void! God has sent His final word! And His word is battle!¡±


    His name was Malcolm Dennis, and he had been a preacher on the outskirts of North Carolina for the past forty years, ever since he was only twenty-one years old and had come out of a three year stint in prison for robbery. He¡¯d turned to religion while he was locked up, began his sermons for a dozen or so people at first, and never looked back.


    Twenty years ago, halfway into his stint as the very vocal leader of the Grace In His Stars Church, the Orbs had begun to appear. Malcolm had taken some time to pray on what their arrival meant, before choosing the best response. That choice had turned their church from a small, quiet congregation that experienced only the occasional raised voice when Malcolm became particularly energetic, to the sort of fire and brimstone gathering it was known as these days. The change had helped grow the church by leaps and bounds. Whereas before they could meet in a small community center room they rented out every Sunday, now it required a full auditorium to accommodate all the people who came to hear him speak. Or, in most cases, shout.


    ¡°In the days before this world existed, as God reigned in his paradise, His angels split into two factions!¡± Father Malcolm¡¯s words echoed out through the room while his audience bobbed their heads rapidly, smiles blossoming as they murmured their soft amens to encourage him to continue. They knew the story, having heard it so many times before. But none would interrupt his telling of it. It was the same as a man watching an old movie he knew by heart, a familiar comfort he went back to again and again. This world had become so strange, so alien. Every day could bring the end of everything they knew. Their lives could be entirely upended if the violence reached them. So of course they would seek out not only an explanation for what the world had become, but a familiar one that they could, if they chose, silently mouth the words to.


    ¡°These angels, God¡¯s true creations, went to war with one another, for that was their nature. They saw the faults in one another, and they loved their God so much that they desired to remove those faults from his presence. They believed that He deserved to stand only in the company of perfection. But they did not understand that all who were not God were imperfect. They saw the flaws in others of their kind, but not their own or those of those closest to them. And so they went to war. A war which lasted millions of years and began to tear at the very foundations of the paradise God had created!¡±


    Through those words, Father Malcolm had deliberately leaned back and forth, waving his arms as though he was actually in the danger of falling from the stage. His people knew he wasn¡¯t, but they still played along with the show by gasping and holding their hands up as though they could catch him. Finally, after a few seconds of playing that up, he stopped, freezing with his body leaning out over them. A bright smile found its way to the man¡¯s face, as he took two steps back to reach the middle of the stage once more. ¡°But that would not be! Heaven would not truly fall, for God is great!¡±


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    ¡°God is great!¡± returned his enraptured and eager audience, the echoing words coming automatically by that point. It was a part of the show, a part of why they came again and again to hear the same speeches over these past couple of decades.


    Raising the hand with a Bible, Father Malcolm used his other hand to tap the front of it as he continued. ¡°God had a plan to teach His angels how to live with one another in peace! He created this very world and others like it, Earths where His children would be sent to live mortal lives! We are those angels! Each and every one of us, and all those who have lived and will ever live, have stood in the presence of our God! He has seen our flaws and has shown us how to defeat them. We were brought to this world and put in these fragile shells in order to become better than we were! These bodies are the eggs out of which our true glory will be born when all is done!¡±


    His voice quieted for a moment as his gaze moved over the audience once more, seeking any who might make the mistake of looking away. He found none. They were all staring intently at the man as he almost vibrated from the energy he had built himself up to. That silence reigned for another precious second or two, before he broke it with a loud clap, bringing both hands together with the Bible between them so that his free palm smacked against the book dramatically. ¡°God, in His perfection, saw that what we truly needed was mortal lives, a temporary existence where death was meaningful. In our days as angels, defeat in battle was a mere inconvenience. We were destroyed only to reform soon after and throw ourselves right back into that same fight. We are here, in these mortal forms, to live, to love, and to experience true loss so that we may finally understand what our constant battles may cost if we allow them to tear apart the heavens!


    ¡°Our battles, our wars, our fighting here in every form is meant to demonstrate the cost of such in a way we may finally retain once we return to His side. The horrors of those battles exist so that those of us who one day stand in the heavens under His loving gaze may finally cease and live peacefully as He always intended. It is our destiny to live peacefully and to love one another. But that is a destiny we may only reach by truly experiencing and understanding the cost of the endless wars we have always inflicted upon one another. Do not look away from the blood and death as it fills your television screens and computers. Search it out, see it and understand it. Help where you can, for those who are truly in need. We are here to experience and comprehend loss, not to glory in it. Our place, our time in this world is meant to demonstrate just how terrible war and suffering really is. And it is also meant to show us how much better it is to help one another, to stand up for those around us and extend the hand of love and acceptance.¡±


    Lowering the Bible to one side, Father Malcolm took a long, deep breath. ¡°Those of us who are visited by these messengers of our God, these orbs, were the generals throughout the wars that threatened to ravage Paradise. It is they who are meant to fight the most in this world. They are given these gifts so that they might¡­ work through the aggressions they have felt since the dawn of their existence. This world is a teaching tool for most of us. For those who are known as Touched, it is a playpen, a safe place for them to work out the violence deep in their hearts, so that they might, before the end of this existence, truly recognize, as we do, the cost of it.


    ¡°Those who are given such powers and do not fight have already been reborn by their experiences in this world! God''s plan has succeeded for them. They see the true value of peace and choose to hold it sacred! Though they stood as the most violent and dangerous angels of our past existence, God''s plan has brought them an understanding of the cost of such violence! We pray that the others of their kind, the Touched who continue to commit war upon one another, may one day come to that same understanding!¡±


    That final word seemed to reverberate through the audience as Father Malcolm pointedly fell silent. He sensed the way they all hovered on the edge of their seats, anxiously awaiting what came next. For one second, then three, then five, he let them wait. He allowed anticipation to build before abruptly shouting, ¡°But should that understanding fail them, they shall be damned!¡±


    A cheer rose among the audience, as they all shouted those last four words back at him. ¡°They shall be damned!¡±


    ¡°They, the great generals of the wars throughout Heaven, were given power in this world as a test! It is their final opportunity to comprehend the cost of the endless battles they insisted on perpetuating, the battles which threatened to destroy God¡¯s great paradise. And when this world ends, when the egg cracks and we all find ourselves standing before the Almighty once more, He will judge them. They will be put before His gaze, He will ask if they truly understand, and then He will see in their souls if they speak truthfully! Those who do, those of the Angelic Generals who will have finally grown beyond violence, will lead us all into a new era of paradise. Those who do not, who refuse to learn the lesson, will fall into the dark, eternal abyss!¡±


    Walking forward before lowering himself to sit on the edge of the stage, feet dangling, Father Malcolm looked out over his people. His voice became much more conversational, yet no less powerful. ¡°God has sent these Orbs as a final test, in these last days, for the generals who perpetrated and led the worst of the violence in Heaven, the leaders of those battles which most threatened to shake apart the very foundations of paradise. Should they fail that test, they shall be cast down and forgotten. But we, those who live and learn in this world for ourselves, the minions of those same generals, shall bask in his glory for the rest of time! For God is good!¡±


    Once more, those three words were repeated by the audience. God was truly good, and His plan perfect. The former leaders of the armies of heaven, who had created and gloried in such strife for so long, had been given this one last opportunity to see and understand the folly of their ways. They would learn from that and return to live in eternal salvation, or they would fail and be forever lost. Either way, Father Malcolm and his people knew the truth. They would be saved and brought to exaltation.


    But in the meantime, until that exaltation happened and the world ended, they would continue to live in it. They would help those they could, would experience the lows of all the death constantly perpetuated upon this world, and when it was over, they would tell their God that they truly understood the cost of it. They would be ready, at last, to move on from violence and suffering to enter a true paradise.


    They could hardly wait.


    ********


    Faith In The Restored Church


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do this.¡± Those soft, clearly nervous words came from a red-haired boy who couldn''t have been older than thirteen or fourteen. He was bouncing anxiously on his heels in the hallway just outside of the main chapel of Faith In The Restored Church, a beautiful building smack in the middle of an equally beautiful city in Virginia. Surrounded by leafy green trees, well-maintained gardens, and a fountain many came to take engagement or prom photos in front of, the church had been built fifteen years earlier. And every official sermon since that final stone had been placed had been standing room only. The man who had previously founded and led this church, Reverend Carmine, had been tragically killed in a car accident six years earlier. But his assistant, Reverend Mitchell, had taken over in his stead without missing a beat. His booming voice could, even at that moment, be heard through the thick door next to the boy, imploring the congregation to hear and understand his words, lest they be lost to the never-ending temptations and manipulations of ¡®the Fallen Ones.¡¯


    ¡°You can,¡± the boy¡¯s mother assured him. She too had red hair, and a kind face as she beamed at her son. He looked so handsome to her, in his ill-fitting suit that had been handed down from an older brother. A brother who even then was sitting uncomfortably in one of the first pews alongside a younger sister and their father. ¡°You''re ready for this, Cameron. You went over it with Reverend Mitchell already, right? Let me see.¡±


    Taking a nervous breath, the young boy nodded and held up both of his hands. As he did so, a small blue tornado of energy appeared in one palm, while a red one appeared in the other. They were swirling vortexes of energy, crackling a bit dangerously. Quickly, the boy stopped summoning his power and the miniature tornadoes vanished.


    ¡°You see?¡± His mother was beaming with pride. ¡°I told you, you''re ready for this. You were meant for it.¡± She put both hands on either side of his head so he would look at her. ¡°I am so proud to be your mother. So proud to stand in the presence of one of His Aspects and be trusted with such responsibility. You are going to be beautiful up there.¡±


    Before she could say anything else, the door next to them opened gently and the elderly man serving as usher smiled their way, though his expression seemed a bit overwhelmed and anxious when he saw Cameron. ¡°Sir,¡± he began in a soft voice, ¡°he''s ready for you now.¡±


    Well, here went nothing. There was no point in stalling anymore. Swallowing back his nerves, Cameron forced his voice to be as steady as possible just so he could get a single word out. ¡°Okay.¡± Then he took one step forward, followed by another. His legs were shaking and there was a knot in his stomach, But he made himself keep going despite everything. He didn¡¯t want to upset his mother. She was so happy, so proud of him, of what he was supposed to be. He couldn¡¯t let her down now.


    The entire congregation, hundreds of people spread through all those pews to the left of the doorway as he came through, became eerily silent at his appearance. Cameron felt their eyes staring at him, and a blush found its way to his face. He could see his dad and siblings sitting there, staring at him the same way. They had been like that ever since he touched that Orb and gained his powers. The moment they¡¯d found out what he was, what he could do, they hadn¡¯t looked at him the same. And they never would. They would always see the truth of his existence, what he was meant to be, before seeing Cameron himself. His life could never go back to the way it was.


    With those anxious and uncertain thoughts filling his mind, the boy made his way across the front of the room to the front podium, where Reverend Mitchell was waiting. The man who had led the Faith In The Restored Church over these past years stood a couple inches over six feet in height, his build lanky and skin somewhat pale, with very light blond hair that fell to his shoulders and a small yet noticeable scar over the center of his forehead. Now, he was watching Cameron along with the rest of his flock. ¡°Everyone,¡± he began in a voice that was carried throughout the room thanks to the microphone set in the podium, ¡°stand and bear witness. He is here. An Aspect of our Lord has walked among us, has lived as one of us, for these past thirteen years, only to be revealed now, so that he may begin his true work.¡±


    Taking a step out from behind the podium then, Reverend Mitchell took a knee in front of Cameron. The secondary microphone attached to his lapel ensured that his words continued to be heard. ¡°Mighty and benevolent Aspect, thank you for gracing and blessing this humble church with your presence for all these years. We surely would have faced much greater trials and suffering were it not for your subtle hand of guidance.¡±


    It was all Cameron could do not to turn and run out of the room. He had never even liked to give oral reports in school, and that was only standing in front of twenty other classmates. There were hundreds of people staring at him now, hanging on everything he said and did. What was he supposed to do? It was too much. His feet wanted nothing more than to start running.


    However, he couldn¡¯t let down his mom. So, Cameron swallowed hard and gave a quick, jerky nod. ¡°Th-thanks, sir--I mean Reverend Mitchell.¡± God, his voice came out all squeaky and nervous. Were people going to laugh at him?


    But no, they didn¡¯t, and wouldn¡¯t. They probably didn¡¯t even notice, because they didn¡¯t see him as Cameron anymore. They saw him as so much more than that. Which, in some ways, was the worst part of this whole thing. None of them, not his old friends in church, not the Reverend, or even his own family, would ever see him as just Cameron again. Not now that he was one of the Touched, one of the Aspects.


    Clearly recognizing the boy¡¯s nervousness, Reverend Mitchell rose and took his hand to guide him over to the podium. There, he stood with his hand still holding Cameron''s while addressing the crowd. ¡°When God made his great creation, these worlds, He poured himself into them. Everything He had, everything He was, went to give us life. And for all these millennia, our people, humanity, has grown. We have fought and we have fallen, loved and triumphed. It has all, the entirety of humanity¡¯s existence, been in the shadow of the soul God gifted to us. Now, at the end of those days, the demons have come. What the world knows as Abyssals are the soldiers of Hell, who wish to tear this world down into the depths and destroy His most beautiful creation.


    ¡°But God anticipated this!¡± Raising Cameron''s hand high, he continued triumphantly. ¡°That is why we have the Touched! They are our salvation! God allowed Himself to be spread throughout these worlds to give us life. The Touched are the pieces of His soul disguised as ordinary humans, His children. Even in His absence, He always provides a way. These pieces of His soul appear to be ordinary people, like Cameron here, until His angels appear in the form of glowing orbs to awaken them from their slumber. Though his divinity has been divided into so many pieces, even in this form, what remains provides us with the hope and strength we need to stand against the demons. The Aspects are pieces of Him. They are each a small piece of God, a conduit to him and instruments of His will. It is true that some have lost their way, have become corrupted by this world. Its evils and temptations are vast. But we must pray that they find their way back to the Light. For only once enough of His Aspects are united will they merge to become Him once more."


    Okay, now people were really staring at Cameron. If it had been bad before, it was almost unbearable at this point. None of the people in this entire church, including anyone in his family, would ever see him as just Cameron again. He would always be the arm of God, or something like that. Even if he felt like he wouldn''t even merit being a deity¡¯s discarded toenail. All he had done was touch that orb when it appeared, and now everyone thought he was a piece of God¡¯s soul or something. And he was still just¡­ confused and lost. Everyone was looking at him as though he had the answers, as if he was some big hero, part of God himself. But he barely understood how to use this new power.


    He didn¡¯t wish he¡¯d never touched the Orb. He liked his power. He liked--he liked¡­ what he could do. He just wished people would stop looking at him like they were right now, and that he could go back to just being Cameron in their eyes.


    He didn''t wish he''d never touched the orb, but he did wish he hadn''t told his family about it. Which was a thought that made a brief stab of pain pass through the boy, his eyes glancing guiltily toward the pew where his mother had just moved to join his father and siblings. His whole family was there, staring at him just like the others. It made him flinch a bit, his smile faltering until he met his mother¡¯s gaze. She nodded when he looked to her, mouthing that she loved him. That helped a little bit at least.


    Reverend Mitchell continued while lowering their hands. ¡°It has been quite some time since we had one of our own right here in this congregation chosen as one of His aspects. Six years, three months, and two days, in fact.¡±


    The congregation grew even quieter at that, a sort of judgmental quiet. Because the truth was more complicated than the reverend was saying in that moment. It was true that the last person chosen amongst their number had been six years earlier. But that person, Dominic Carmine, was Reverend Carmine¡¯s brother. When the original reverend had died in that car accident only two weeks after Dominic gained his power, the man had abandoned the church his brother founded. He left the church and the city itself, going off on his own before joining the Seraph organization. The last Cameron had heard, Dominic was going by the name Hallowed and was based in Detroit.


    His wandering thoughts on that, and most likely everyone else''s, were interrupted as Reverend Mitchell continued. ¡°We all have to understand, now more than ever, that being chosen as one of His Aspects is an enormous responsibility. And an incredible honor. I know it can be overwhelming, for everyone involved.¡± He smiled a little fondly at the boy beside him. ¡°But we''ll all get through it together. We¡¯ll learn and grow alongside one another. Aspect Lisa is returning from her mission to Brazil, to help teach young Cameron how to hear and speak the voice of God.¡±


    That definitely got a reaction, even from Cameron. Lisa Harding was the last member of the congregation before Dominic to have been revealed as one of God¡¯s Aspects, having become one of the Touched just over eight years earlier. She had been slightly younger than Cameron was now at that time, though now she was twenty years old. She also tended to go on all these missions to other countries, spreading the word of their church.


    If she was coming back here to help teach Cameron, if they were going to be working¡­ close together¡­ He felt his blush return, for completely different reasons.


    Maybe this whole thing wouldn¡¯t be so bad after all.

 Together And Alone 27-11

    Okay, so the coast was clear for a minute. But apparently that wouldn''t last, so we had to get the machine out of this place and into the van before those reinforcements showed up. Especially if Robert was right about them being Touched reinforcements. I didn''t really want to try to fight people with powers when I couldn''t use mine effectively. Actually no, if it came down to that, I would have to stop holding back and use my powers the right way. Even if that did tell Breakwater more than I wanted. Sure, they couldn''t exactly inform the authorities that I was out of Detroit without exposing what they were doing, but even just letting Breakwater themselves know was probably too dangerous. I had enough problems without drawing that sort of heat down on myself. And something told me that they would be very interested in me if they knew I was the one trying to steal Pittman¡¯s machine right out from under them.


    So yeah, the best option right now was for us to get the hell out of here before those people showed up. Paige and I both sprinted through the house and out the front door. Thankfully, all the neighbors had already been escorted away from this place, so there were no onlookers to gawk and ask questions as we ran past the unmarked but official-looking Breakwater vans to our own. On the way, I gave those vehicles a quick look. There really was nothing on them showing where they were from, but they had clearly reinforced armor, along with police style lights. They would just look like ordinary SWAT vans to most people. Which I supposed made sense considering Breakwater wouldn¡¯t want to let anyone know they were operating here. But had they gotten permission from the local authorities? Did the cops here even know anything about what was going on? I was pretty positive they didn¡¯t know the whole story. No way would these Breakwater people trust local cops to keep their secret. But what had they told them? Either way, in a town like this, the whole situation was going to be big news. A whole neighborhood being evacuated? They would talk. And boy would that be a big thing around here. Over in Detroit, it probably wouldn¡¯t even make the front page and would at most be a casually-mentioned three sentence thing at the end of a news broadcast. But in a place like this? They would be going over it for months.


    Actually, come to think of it, that was probably a big part of why they hadn''t sent Touched in here to grab the machine to start with. Not only because they thought it was going to be a simple smash and grab (Pittman¡¯s defenses notwithstanding), but also because they didn''t want anyone who stood out with powers to be seen. Sure, they could hide what their powers really were so it would be harder to identify them specifically, but still. This whole bit had been the safest way for them to do it. At least until they found a few complications when they ran into us.


    And speaking of creating complications for them, both Paige and I thought about doing something to the vans to stop them from following us or being used anytime soon. Unfortunately, according to the other girl, those tires were the reinforced type that wouldn''t be popped even from a bullet.


    Still, I had another idea. And with this one it wouldn''t matter how reinforced the tires or armor were. Quickly dropping onto my back with Paige right beside me, I extended my hands and took aim under all the vans before sending a spray of pink paint out over their axles. As soon as all of them had the pink spots, Paige fired her pistol repeatedly. Each bullet tore through that spot of pink that I had made and destroyed the axle on all of the vans. They wouldn''t be going anywhere. Which might also force them to try to explain things to the locals a bit more. I was just sorry I wouldn''t get a chance to see that.


    Paige also took the time to wirelessly hack into their vehicle cameras to erase them so they wouldn¡¯t be able to see what we had done. It wouldn¡¯t exactly be a great idea to do all this to hide who we were, then leave them camera footage of me using my paint power.


    Anyway, that was about as good as we could do with these things. And we didn''t want to take the time to try anything more elaborate. No, the trick now was to get out of here before this became an even bigger issue. So, we reached our own van and Paige hopped in the driver seat, with me right behind her on the other side. She spun the van around and then backed it right up over the curb to put the thing directly in front of the house. Even avoiding letting the wheels hit any of the traps I had marked out, we still ran over the grass and flower bed, but neither of us cared. The time for subtlety was completely gone.


    As soon as the van was in position, we both hopped out and ran inside. Robert was already downstairs, disconnecting the machine from the pipes in the ceiling and floor it had been connected to. We''d have to work out specifics about how this thing worked later. Or rather, Wren would with as much help as we could provide. Which just made me feel bad again about how much pressure we were putting on the poor kid. But what else were we supposed to do? She was the best shot we had at this. I was just going to have to make sure she knew how appreciated she was.


    The machine split apart into four pieces, each only about five feet wide and four feet tall. But that was still too big to just carry through the doorway and up the stairs. Or at least I thought it was. But a moment after the two of us arrived, Robert moved to the wall next to the entrance and pressed a hidden button there. As he did so, that whole section slid out of the way. Suddenly, we were looking at a doorway several times larger than it had been. Even the stairs were bigger. Or, more accurately, they had always been larger than they looked, but now there weren''t walls on either side to hide that fact. It was like whoever had built this place made a much larger stairwell and then positioned the walls to make it look smaller. I had no idea why they''d go to the effort of hiding the larger stairway, but now wasn¡¯t the time to question it. Instead, I just moved to one of the machine pieces, secretly used a fair bit of hidden purple paint for strength, and lifted it up.


    Paige and Robert were already strong enough to each lift one of the pieces on their own, so we carried three of the four through the now-larger doorway and up the stairs. I just had to keep redoing the paint on myself every ten seconds, praying silently that we weren''t about to walk right into an army of Breakwater Touched. Please, just let them be a little slower. We could do this. We could get the hell out of here before they showed up. Because if fighting a bunch of superpowered people before hadn¡¯t been my idea of a good time, doing so while holding the very machine they wanted to destroy was even worse. There was no way that would go well.


    Fortunately, our luck seemed to hold for the moment. We rushed the pieces through the house and into the garage through another oversized doorway that Robert opened up. From there, we just had to hit the button for the garage door and carry the machine straight to the van. On the way, I found myself asking, ¡°Hey, how did you know about the secret door things?¡±


    He gave me a quick look, eyes seeming to look right through both my mask and my soul, before answering simply, ¡°I had time to look around before you showed up. And let''s just say I have some experience finding and hiding that sort of thing.¡±


    Yeah, considering who he had worked for, I supposed he would. Which just made me think about how many secret doors were probably all around my own house. Maybe I should look into that. If I found anything and my parents caught me in the process, I¡¯d just say I was exploring and play dumb. After all, it wasn''t like they expected me to actually know anything important.


    By that point, we had reached the van. The other two waited while I quickly set my piece down and opened the back doors. Soon, we had all three of the pieces we¡¯d carried up, and Paige said she was going back for the other one.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    As she disappeared back through the garage, I looked at Robert. There was so much I wanted to say at that moment, but I didn''t dare get into most of it. Instead, I asked, ¡°What if the guys out back decide to start causing problems again? We were kind of in too much of a rush to secure them very well.¡±


    Again, he looked at me with a somewhat curious expression. It looked like he wanted to ask something, but wasn''t sure if he should. Finally, the man just replied, ¡°Don''t worry about it, they¡¯re not here anymore.¡±


    Okay, now I was really curious. And that just reminded me of the fact that there was no sign of the people out here in the front where he had been dealing with them. ¡°What happened to those guys? What about the ones who were supposed to be out here? I don''t see anybody. It''s like you made them disappear.¡± Had he disintegrated the bodies or something? Please tell me he didn''t disintegrate them. I wasn''t sure how I would react to that sort of thing.


    Looking down at his phone, Robert grunted. ¡°Start the van,¡± he ordered. ¡°We''re cutting it really close.¡± Then he seemed to come to a decision and looked at me while adding, ¡°I used this.¡± He reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out what looked like a simple pair of barber shears. ¡°Press it against the back of a person¡¯s neck and press the button for a second. It sends them a few hundred miles away. Stops them from being a problem for awhile.¡±


    Part of me wanted to ask where he got something like that from. Hell, another part of me wanted to just flat out ask if he was still working for the Ministry and how much he knew about my parents. After all, there were a hell of a lot of questions he could answer and blanks he could fill in. But this probably wasn''t the right time, even if I had wanted to expose that much to him. So, I shoved that down and quickly ran around the front of the van. Jumping in, I turned it on and looked up just as a truck came screaming around the corner. There was a guy standing up in the back with a rifle pointed our way, before he could get off a shot, Robert had his own pistol out and fired a single shot that caught the man and sent him flying out of the truck. Then he fired a couple more times at the driver, but the windows appeared to be bulletproof.


    Leaning on the horn, I watched as the truck went skidding sideways across the street. There! Paige finally emerged from the garage, carrying the last piece of the machine. With Robert covering her, she shoved the thing in, then the two of them hopped up, closing the doors behind them while both shouted, ¡°Go!¡±


    Right, it was way past time to get the hell out of here. Shifting into drive just as I heard Paige say something about reconsidering this, I hit the gas. The van leapt forward off the grass and tore through part of the fence in the process of slamming down onto the street. Shouting for the two in the back to hold on, I kept the pedal pressed down. Instead of turning left or right once I reached the pavement, I just sent the van straight across and up into the yard of the person across the street.


    Robert and Paige, of course, had loud opinions about this. But I ignored them because they weren''t exactly helpful. I knew what I was doing. Angling the van at the fence in the neighbor¡¯s yard, I plowed through it and straight over their front lawn, past the side of the house, and into the back yard. I had to swerve to the left to avoid a swingset, but we made it to the back fence and went through that as well. Only then did I violently shove the wheel to the left, coming out onto a rear alley that I had known was there from our research into this place. The Breakwater people might have put up some sort of traps on either end of the regular street, but it was less likely that they would have covered the alley back here.


    As we reached the end of that alley, I gave the wheel a jerk to the right to send us out onto the next street over and kept my foot firmly on the gas. We went up over a curb and actually got airborne. In the back I could hear Robert grunt a little while Paige made a noise in the back of her throat that seemed to be a mix of worry and reluctant enjoyment. It was like she was having fun with this, but was afraid of letting me know that in case I used it as an excuse to do something even more wild.


    Then there was the loud exuberant cry of, ¡°Whoooooooo!¡± That was¡­ unexpected. Especially since it seemed to be coming from directly above us, outside of the van. Twisting my head to look at the ceiling, I reflexively hit the brakes. That exuberant cry got even louder as a very small figure flew forward into view past the windshield. I couldn''t pick out many details, but it was pretty tiny and colorful. At the last second before it hit the pavement, wings extended from the thing and glided it to the ground. A long bungee cord of some kind lay draped over the windshield from where it was hooked onto the luggage rack on top.


    Paige and Robert were both blurting questions while I quickly shifted the van into park and jumped out. A quick glance showed that I was right about the bungee cord being hooked onto the van. The opposite end, laying near the front bumper, had a makeshift handle on it. It was like someone had been using our van¡¯s momentum to parasail. Someone very small.


    With that realization, I quickly ran to the figure I had seen while Robert and Paige jumped out the back. Now, as I approached, I had my first decent look. It was a small, yet colorful creature that was maybe about eight or nine inches long, plus a big fluffy tail almost the same length. The thing appeared to be covered in bright red, green, and blue fur. But it also had a pair of feathery wings that were equally colorful. As it rolled over and groaned a little, I could see that his face was mostly that of a squirrel, but with a small beak.


    Laying there splayed out on the ground, this strange creature lifted its hand and gave me a thumbs up. ¡°That¡­ was¡­ awesome. Let''s go back and do it again.¡±


    Paige, who had come right up beside me by that point, blinked a couple times. ¡°Did you switch brains with that creature or something?¡±


    Ignoring that, I crouched down. ¡°Hey, are you okay? What--uhh, who are you?¡± I wanted to ask why it looked like a hybrid of a bird and a squirrel, but I wasn''t sure how to do so without being offensive.


    The creature finally focused on me and offered a broad smile. ¡°Hey, you''re the driver! You''re awesome. Hi!¡± Jumping to his feet (the way he had been sprawled out before belatedly made me realize for certain that he was a boy), he announced, ¡°The name¡¯s Qwerty. I¡¯ve been so freaking bored around here, but then I saw what you guys were doing and I knew you''d be making a fast getaway, so I hitched a ride. At first I was just using that bungee to hold on, but then you started going so fast so I had to try letting my wings out, and whooooosh!¡± He opened his feathery wings to indicate what had happened. ¡°It was totally awesome and I wanna do it again. Can we do it again, please, please, please? I haven''t been able to figure out how to fly properly with this body yet, just glide. That was the closest I''ve ever gotten. At least, this version of me.¡±


    Paige was the first to find her voice. ¡°Are you a bird or a mammal?¡± Apparently she didn''t have a problem sounding awkward with questions like that. ¡°And why are you called Qwerty?¡±


    Qwerty scuffed a bit. ¡°Why, I¡¯m both! One of me was a parrot and the other was a squirrel. We both touched this orb thing at the same time and then we were smart and also me. Both of them turned into me. Just one brain. I guess you could say I''m a flying squirrel!¡± His ears drooped a little. ¡°Except the part where I can only glide. Oh and I¡¯m Qwerty because I found out I could read when I saw this little broken computer in the garbage and Q-W-E-R-T-Y were the first letters I read on the keyboard.¡±


    I had so many questions right then. Unfortunately, now definitely wasn''t the time for them, considering the sound of screeching tires we could hear from down the street. My head jerked that way in time to see five dark sedans approaching rapidly. ¡°Those probably aren''t the local neighborhood watch.¡±


    Robert straightened and turned, firing three quick shots from his pistol that made the cars swerve just a little, but they were still coming. ¡°Get back in the van,¡± he ordered.


    Well there was no way I was leaving this poor guy here to get run over. ¡°Come on, Qwerty, time to go,¡± I quickly said while putting both hands down in a cupped position. He climbed onto them, then ran all the way up my arm to perch on my shoulder with his wings tucked in close against his back.


    I jumped in the front, with Paige right beside me while I started the van once more. In the rearview, I could see the sedans getting closer. Worse, there was a figure flying just above them. A Touched of some sort.


    ¡°Hey look,¡± Qwerty noted while turning around to look out through the back window of the van. ¡°That guy figured out how to fly. I wonder if he''d give me lessons.¡±


    ¡°Let''s not ask him,¡± I replied while flooring the gas once more to send the van screaming down the street with the sedans and flying man in hot pursuit.


    ¡°Yeah, you''re probably right,¡± our new tiny friend agreed.


    ¡°He looks like a jerk.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-12

    Well, so much for getting out of here before the super-powered people started showing up. Now not only did we have several sedans full of very angry Breakwater assholes chasing us, but there was also a flying guy. At least he didn''t seem to be one of the faster fliers. Sure, he was keeping pace as I floored the pedal and pushed the van up to seventy on our way down this quiet residential street, but I''d seen plenty on the news who already would have been able to catch up with us, tear the doors off, and haul us all out of the van before we could blink. Maybe we were lucky and Breakwater couldn''t afford to send the real heavy hitters yet. It would be nice to have some luck during this whole situation, at least. Which probably wasn¡¯t a very fair thought, considering we had the machine, plus we¡¯d found Robert and a brand new TONI friend. But still, given what these guys would do if they caught up with us, I was hoping for a little more on the luck side.


    Gripping the wheel tightly, I had to swerve around a tow truck that was pulling out of some guy''s driveway. Probably his own. He leaned on the horn, shaking his fist angrily out the side window while shouting curses. Which just made me wonder what that guy thought was happening. He saw a van hauling ass down the street with several sedans and a flying man chasing after it. That hardly would''ve raised eyebrows back in Detroit, but something told me it wasn''t exactly a common sight around here. He was probably calling the cops right now. How were they going to react to this? Was I about to have to avoid a bunch of local police along with the Breakwater people?


    Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I took a sudden right turn onto a side street. Paige shouted something about there being a no outlet sign, but I ignored that. I wasn''t here for the road. Instead, with our pursuers coming up right behind us, I aimed for the fence beside one of the houses on the far side of this cul-de-sac.


    ¡°Faster, faster!¡± Still perched on my shoulder and clinging there, Qwerty cheered while seeing the fence rapidly approaching. ¡°Blow right through it! That thing doesn''t stand a chance! Shred it!¡±


    Robert, for his part, simply called, ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing up there, kid!¡± He pointed his pistol out the back window he''d already broken and fired a couple shots that made the flying man swerve to one side, slowing him down just a bit.


    I definitely knew what I was doing. Well, hopefully anyway. Telling myself it would all be fine, I focused on the fence and pointedly pushed my foot down harder. The van roared as it hit the curb, bouncing roughly before tearing up the grass. I had just a second to wince at how the owner of this place was going to react before we hit the fence and ripped right through it. Yeah, the homeowner probably wouldn¡¯t like that either. By the time this was over, I was going to be the most hated person in Tooele, and they wouldn¡¯t even know who I was.


    Well, hopefully. If this went badly enough, they would know exactly who I was. But in that case, I¡¯d have a lot more problems than some people who were mad at me for ruining their lawns and fences.


    As soon as the van hit the backyard, I spun the wheel to the left and went right through yet another fence into the yard next door. There was a sandbox followed by one of those miniature wading pools, and we destroyed both on our way. Yep, definitely gonna be loathed here in Tooele. Somehow I doubted they would be giving me the key to the city anytime soon. Or recommending me for a driver¡¯s license, if they had anything to say about it.


    Obviously, I wasn''t just destroying all these yards for fun. We went through two more of them before I quickly twisted the wheel to the right once more and sent us off an incline, between several large trees with barely enough space (as it was, several branches scraped loudly against the windows and the passenger-side mirror was broken off), and over a railroad track. The van jostled heavily, but held together while we flew into open air several feet above the ground on the far side of those tracks. All of us aside from Robert screamed as the van dropped, slamming into the ground. But the tires found purchase on grass there, and suddenly we were moving again. We were on the back field of some local school. The running track was to the right, the main building straight ahead, and to the left was the baseball diamond.


    Behind us, the flying man shot out of the trees, with the sedans right behind him. Well, most of them. One of the cars slammed into the same tree that had taken our passenger mirror, and another came off the railroad tracks at too steep of an angle, slamming into the ground hard enough to fill the air with dark smoke. Neither of them would be going anywhere anytime soon.


    Okay, so two cars down, three left. Plus the flying guy. We could work with that, right? Please let us be able to work with that.


    Heading for the baseball diamond, I was just telling myself we had a chance here when the flying man abruptly picked up speed. Apparently we¡¯d pissed him off, because he was suddenly catching up. By that point, he was close enough for me to get a good look at him in the rearview mirror. The guy was clearly pretty thin, wearing a dark blue bodysuit with black armored panels in important places, and a blue metal helmet with white eye lenses. There was no insignia or anything indicating who he was. Probably because he worked for Breakwater rather than acting as a normal Star-Touched. And even though I couldn¡¯t see his expression, something told me the guy hadn¡¯t picked up speed so he could hurry and congratulate me on my awesome driving skills. Which was too bad, because property destruction aside, I was killing it right now.


    Oh, and he was wearing a jetpack. Well, what looked like a jetpack. It wasn¡¯t projecting flames out the back or anything, but it definitely seemed to be the source of his flight. I didn¡¯t know if he was a Tech-Touched, or just some guy using something another person created. Whatever it was, he definitely wanted to end this whole chase.


    ¡°Poise,¡± I tensely spoke up toward the girl seated beside me. ¡°I think you better--¡±


    ¡°On it,¡± she agreed. With that, she hauled herself up and partway through the side window there, pointing a gun across the roof at the incoming flier. Watching the rearview while the baseball diamond rapidly approached, I saw him spin off to one side just as she sent several bullets flying that way. Robert, in the back, anticipated that move and actually hit the man with his own shot, though it bounced off his helmet. The impact was still enough to make the guy¡¯s head snap back briefly and slowed him down. Which bought us just a few more precious seconds.


    As soon as we hit the baseball field, I spun the wheel to stay on the baseline, following it all the way from home plate to first, then second, and back around to third. Our tires sent dust flying into the air, creating a thick cloud that the flier and three remaining sedans had to drive into. And just like that, we were heading straight toward the rear-most car as it reached home plate and started to turn the way we had gone, its driver partially-blinded by the dust.


    Paige, who had dropped back into her seat by that point, gripped the armrest tightly while speaking through gritted teeth. ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re--¡±


    ¡°Hang on!¡± I interrupted with a shout. With one hand, I reached up to grab hold of Qwerty so he wouldn¡¯t go flying through the windshield. In the next second, our front left bumper slammed into the rear-left corner of the last sedan, spinning it around so hard its front end very nearly slammed into us as it came back around. But we were going fast enough that it barely missed, as the sedan went spinning out across home plate to slam down into the dugout. Its lower half was caught up on the bench there, as the engine screamed from the driver¡¯s attempt to get going again. I could hear several voices screaming out for him to hurry up, and a handful of bullets ricocheted off the back of our van. They definitely weren¡¯t playing anymore.


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    Another sedan was down. Meanwhile, the other two cars and the flying man had reached the far side of the dust cloud. Any second now, they would realize we weren''t ahead of them, but behind. Especially with the screaming and shooting coming from the guys in the third car. But we were already hauling ass once more, back the way we¡¯d come. Or at least somewhat. I angled the car to head more toward the running track, and the parking lot beyond it. A glance in the rear view showed those two remaining cars doing quick U-turns, while the flying man inverted in the air and came right after us once more. If they hadn¡¯t been angry before, they sure as hell were now.


    Letting go of Qwerty so I could grab the wheel once more, I sent the van up and over the low grassy hill leading onto the track. Once again, we were sending up a dirt cloud that blocked the people behind us from seeing very well. Though something told me the same trick wouldn''t work twice. They were going to be on the lookout for us to turn around. Which was exactly what I wanted. If they were holding back, anticipating the same move, they wouldn''t be pushing so hard to catch up. With any luck, I was making them second-guess themselves.


    Of course, that was when we got the bad news. As we launched off the track and headed through the open gate to the parking lot, a dozen cop cars came skidding around the corner of the street ahead of us and into the same lot. So yeah, now the local authorities were involved. Fantastic. And we still had the two Breakwater sedans plus the flying guy behind us. This whole thing was just going swimmingly.


    Okay, thinking the word ¡®swimmingly¡¯ was clearly a bad idea, because it would be just like the universe to decide the best thing to do next would be to send us right into that stinky lake, and I didn¡¯t want to give it any ideas on that front. As if it needed any help from me.


    The twelve cop cars coming at us had spread out a bit, already trying to block us in. I felt a rush of apprehension, but pushed it down and focused. A slight twist of the wheel to the left sent us just past the first car, its front bumper passing our rear one within a couple inches while the cop inside leaned on his horn, sirens already blaring deafeningly. The instant we were past that, I spun the wheel to the right, cutting back that way. Which put the left side of the van directly in the path of the cop car coming up behind that first one. But as I¡¯d expected, that guy reflexively hit the brakes just enough to stop from hitting us. And a very slight adjustment to the left sent our van right between the next two cars over, passing them perpendicularly just ahead of the nearer one and just behind the further one, with barely enough space left on either side. Seriously, I was pretty sure you couldn¡¯t fit a finger in the area between all of our bumpers.


    At the very instant that we were past those two cars, I hauled the wheel left once more, braking just a touch. The van slipped directly between the last two vehicles that were in our way, coming so close that the sides of our vehicle crashed right through their mirrors, sending up a loud, protesting sound of screeching metal. It was a good thing this van was reinforced, or it probably would¡¯ve fallen apart on us already. We were going to have to send a big thank you card to the guys Paige had hired to deliver it. Maybe even a gift basket of our own.


    Either way, we were through those cars. I had managed, however barely, to thread the needle between all of them. Now the cops and the Breakwater sedans were in each other¡¯s way. I had no idea how that was going to go, and we weren¡¯t sticking around to find out. Instead, I floored it once more, sending the van out the same driveway the cops had just come in through. To one side, I could see a bunch of students standing around the front and side doors of the school. The sun was just barely starting to come up, so just how early did they start classes around here? I had half a mind to send the school district a link to all the studies about how students should be getting more sleep than that.


    But uh, yeah that would probably have to wait.


    Of course, even with the cop cars and sedans needing to separate themselves and turn around, we still had the flying man to deal with. He came right over that whole mess, flew up a bit higher, and pointed some sort of rifle our way that he had pulled off one side of his jetpack. I wasn''t sure what it was, but still jerked the wheel to the left just as we hit the street. It was a good thing I did, because whatever the man was pointing at us sent a beam down that struck the chain-link fence there and ripped it halfway out of the ground. He fired again just as I shoved the wheel to the right, and a big blue mailbox was sent flying. It was some sort of magnetic cannon. Which was probably going to do bad things to our very-metal van if he managed to hit us.


    ¡°Distract him!¡± I shouted toward Robert and Paige while thinking quickly. Okay, right, I knew what to do. The question was whether we could pull it off. Actually, that wasn''t a question. We had to, no matter what. So, while those two fired several shots to keep the flying man from getting a good aim at us with that magnetic cannon thing, I gritted my teeth and sent the van flying down the street once more. If I remembered the layout of this city from what I¡¯d seen on the map right, there should be a good place for what I had in mind coming up in just a couple blocks. Assuming we made it that far.


    On the way, I used one hand to carefully pick Qwerty off my shoulder and bring him around to my face. ¡°You said you could glide, right? Can you help us out here?¡± I didn''t feel great about sending the little guy into danger, but he really was our best shot of this.


    For his part, the tiny bird-squirrel bobbed his head rapidly and saluted. ¡°Put me in, coach! I¡¯m ready to kick some ass!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t have to do much kicking,¡± I promised, just before twisting the wheel to send the van down the next street. It was a neighborhood on a steep hill, and I kept the pedal floored while telling our new TONI friend exactly what I needed. Beside me, Paige made a noise of uncertainty and apprehension, but didn¡¯t say anything. Robert remained silent too, aside from reloading his gun to send several more shots at our friend with the jetpack, forcing the flier to pull back just a bit.


    While he was distracted with that, I put my left hand against the door and sent an orange line down under the seat and all the way through the front area where Paige and I had our feet. If this was going to work without tearing the whole van apart, we needed all the protection we could get.


    It was now or never. As we reached the top of the hill, I twisted the wheel to send us to the right, going through the backyard of one of the houses yet again. I really was a menace to property values. The van ripped through another fence, crushed a couple flower beds under our wheels, and completely destroyed a bird feeder while I continued to spin the wheel, sending us back through the yards of the same houses we had driven past a second earlier. But that was okay, in another second, we weren¡¯t going to be in any yards anymore. We weren¡¯t going to be on the ground anymore.


    ¡°Hang on!¡± I shouted once again, gripping Qwerty in one hand while sending the van up over an incline on the side of the hill. With the roar of the engine, we shot out into open air, tore through some branches in a tree, and were suddenly face to face (err, face to windshield?) with the flying man. He definitely hadn¡¯t been expecting that, and quickly dove to one side. But even as he went, I gave Qwerty a hard throw that way, out the window. The bird-squirrel spread his wings with a scream that seemed half-maniacal, half-joyous. He went flying right over the other man, took a sharp turn, and glided down after us.


    For our part, the van didn¡¯t exactly stay in the air very long. Right after we passed our flying pursuer, we hit the ground. I activated the orange paint just in time, but we still landed pretty hard, crashing down onto the pavement at the base of the hill. Ahead of us, the cop cars and Breakwater people were still extricating themselves from that parking lot, with a lot of shouting and threats being hurled back and forth.


    Our flying man, meanwhile, had already inverted in the air. He lifted that magnetic cannon, ready to take advantage of the fact that we were momentarily motionless. But in that second, the crystal bomb thing that Paige had given me before I went into that house, the one I had handed Qwerty, exploded right where the TONI had tossed it. Namely, in the flying man¡¯s pocket. A sudden electricity-draining pulse filled that hundred feet around the man. Not only did that kill the gun he was holding, it also drained whatever he was using to fly. The man dropped out of the sky, crashing and rolling along the ground.


    With the flying guy dealt with, and the cars back in the school lot still sorting themselves out, I reached out with one arm to give Qwerty a spot to land. He glided in, half-crashed into my hand before scrambling back inside, and blurted, ¡°Now that¡¯s falling with style, assholes! Whooo! Come get some!¡±


    ¡°Can we get out of here now?¡± Paige pressed, eying the mess of cars across the way.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I agreed, already turning the wheel to head the other way. The street was completely clear ahead of us.


    ¡°Trust me, I¡¯ve had more than enough of this town for awhile.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-13

    As much as we all wanted nothing more than to head straight for the freeway, things were a little more complicated than that. For one thing, it wouldn''t be hard for the Breakwater people to call in ahead to others and have them watching the road for our vehicle. After all, the freeway was a pretty easy place to scan especially from the air. And I was certain they had air support. Hell, they''d probably get the police to help even if they had to explain a bit of what was going on. Or they would just lie. Whatever they did, the routes out of town would definitely be watched.


    So, we had to do something else. Fortunately, we had a plan for that. Well, Paige and I did. The problem was that I didn''t want to use my powers in front of Robert, and the plan depended on that. But that was when we hit another bit of fortune. As I parked the van in an out-of-the-way spot behind a grocery store, he announced that he had something to take care of that had to do with making sure we wouldn¡¯t run into even more problems on our way back to Detroit. Making us promise not to leave without him, while making it clear that he would absolutely hunt us down and make us regret it if we did, the man walked off while already talking in a low voice on his phone.


    I waited until he was definitely gone before looking back toward Paige, who was staring after him with an intense look. ¡°You think he¡¯s talking to the Ministry about all this?¡±


    Before she could respond, of course, a small furry hand touched the side of my head. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s the Ministry? Is that like a religious thing? Is he one of those fire and brimstone preachers? Cuz he really didn¡¯t look like the type to me.¡±


    The voice made me jump a bit before I flinched. Oh, right, shit. I had somehow completely forgotten about Qwerty perched right there on my shoulder. Or rather, I''d forgotten that he wasn''t really part of our group. I''d been so focused on what Robert was doing and what he knew or suspected that the fact that the parrot-squirrel was brand new and didn''t actually know anything about what was actually going on had slipped my mind. God, that was sloppy. What the hell was wrong with me?


    Exchanging a look with Paige, I reached up and held my hand out for Qwerty to climb onto, then lifted him around in front of me so we could be face to face. ¡°Uh, hey, thanks for helping out back there. I don''t think we could''ve gotten out of that the way we did without you. But you probably don¡¯t want to keep hanging out with us. It¡¯s pretty dangerous. If you want us to help you get somewhere, I think we could probably--¡±


    ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa.¡± The TONI held up two tiny paws for me to stop. Seeing him up close now, he really did look amazing. The little guy was a real blend between bird and tiny mammal. Most of his body was covered in light, soft fur that was bright and multi-colored like a parrot, with those two feathery wings that he tended to keep tucked in against his back most of the time unless he was using them to glide. Or, as he was right now, gesturing with those paws. His wings followed the same motions, extending out like a second pair of arms with no fingers. His head was shaking rapidly. ¡°Come on, you said I was helpful, right? You can''t just toss me aside like that. I can totally stick around. I swear I''m not gonna go blab to the suit about what you just said or anything. I''m not dumb. You''ve got secrets, so what? Do I look like a guy who''s got a bunch of friends I can go gossip to? You''re the only people I found that would even talk to me since I woke up. I mean, there was one guy, but I¡¯m pretty sure he wanted to trap and sell me or something so I got the hell outta there. After that I''ve just kind of been on my own. It''s hard to know who you can trust out there when you¡¯re this small, you know?¡± He gave a heavy sigh, almost too heavy for a tiny thing like thim. ¡°Then I saw you guys and I thought you''d be exciting. And boy was I right. I¡¯ve been following you around for like five minutes and this is basically the best day of my life.¡± Now he was vibrating cheerfully. ¡°Please, don¡¯t make me leave! I swear, I''ll help out with anything you want. I won''t tell anybody anything. Your secrets are my secrets, Boss! Just--just don¡¯t send me away.¡± Beneath his excitement and hopeful energy, I could see definite fear. He covered it pretty well, but the little guy was obviously terrified of being alone again.


    And, to be honest, maybe I felt a little bit of kinship with someone who would see a vehicle that much bigger than he was and decide to parasail off the back of it. Between that and his colorful fur that made him fit so well with the paint theme, it was almost like he was meant to find his way to us. Maybe that was silly, and my reaction was definitely questionable, but whatever. He¡¯d already helped us, there was absolutely no way he had any connection to the Ministry, and just¡­ I didn¡¯t want to make that tiny, furry face sad.


    So, after nodding to Paige¡¯s uncertain look, I replied, ¡°Okay, fine. But you have to swear you¡¯re not going to tell anybody about us, Qwerty. It¡¯s really important. I mean life and death level important. You¡¯re right, we have secrets. Really big secrets. I don¡¯t--¡±


    I stopped as his little paw came up to touch my face lightly. His eyes were almost strangely understanding in that moment. ¡°Listen,¡± he started in a voice that was far more serious and reflective than I¡¯d heard from him before, ¡°I get it. Look at me, I fit in the palm of your hand.¡± His big fluffy tail shook from side to side. ¡°You know how many predators both versions of me had to deal with while we were separate? Everything wanted to kill us. It was dangerous for both of me, and now we¡¯re combined. I¡¯ve got all those memories. I totally get how dangerous it is out there, and why you need friends, you know? I haven¡¯t¡­ I haven¡¯t had any friends until now. I mean, not that we¡¯re friends yet. But there¡¯s a chance, and¡­ and I wouldn¡¯t screw that up by helping the predators. You need friends to survive out there, friends to watch your back. I¡¯ll totally watch yours, Boss.¡±


    What was I supposed to say to that? He had a point about all the predators both previous versions of himself had to deal with. The thought of being as small as his squirrel self was pretty bad on its own. Between humans shooting at him, cats, birds, snakes, and everything else out there just waiting to intentionally kill the little guy, to say nothing of accidental deaths like running into a car¡­ yeah, he knew danger. And his bird self? Sure, it was probably a bit safer thanks to the whole flying thing, but there were other birds, and dangers waiting on the ground or in trees whenever he landed. To say nothing of how confusing it must¡¯ve been to be a parrot all the way over here in the middle of the continental United States. I still had questions about that, but figured he must¡¯ve been a pet that escaped or something. Either way, this area wasn¡¯t his home. Which had to add to the loneliness thing that I¡¯d sensed. If he didn''t come with us, what would happen to him?


    Coming to a decision in that moment, I nodded. ¡°Qwerty, welcome to the team. I mean, if you want to come all the way to Detroit with us.¡±


    The little guy cheered loudly (or as loud as someone his size could manage), hurling himself in the air before doing a backflip. He got some serious height off it too, enough that he could spread his wings and glide over to the top of the nearby van before turning to face us once more. ¡°I love Detroit! It¡¯s my favorite place! Wait, where is Detroit? Is that in Canada? Do I need a passport? Oh no, I don¡¯t think I know my birthdate!¡±


    Laughing despite myself, I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s here in the US, don¡¯t worry. But that reminds me, we probably do need to like¡­ um, isn¡¯t there a legal process to help TONIs register as people or whatever?¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Paige finally spoke up. ¡°We should probably worry about that when we get back home. It¡¯d be¡­ complicated to do it here. And it would slow us down.¡±


    She had a point. Looking to Qwerty, I asked, ¡°Do you mind pretending Detroit is your home city? It¡¯d just--you know, make everything a lot easier.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± he retorted, ¡°I¡¯ll pretend Tijauna is my home city if it helps. Uh, assuming someone tells me where it is. Is that in Canada? I feel like it¡¯s in Canada.¡±


    Obviously there was a lot to talk about and figure out. But for the moment, I just looked around to make sure no one else was watching, then reached out to touch the van. Over the next few seconds, the color changed completely as I made it a dark green, then added a white stripe along both sides.


    Naturally, Qwerty was surprised, jumping off the van to my shoulder before taking in the whole thing with a loud chittering noise that soon evolved into actual words as he asked how I did that. So, I quickly and quietly told him the truth about who I was. Well, about the Paintball thing anyway. We¡¯d have to get into the rest of it later. I also told him that I was pretending to be someone else from our group because everyone was supposed to think that Paintball was a boy. I stressed the fact that Robert had to keep thinking that. I wasn''t sure our new friend understood much of why that was so important, which was fair considering how little information we were giving him. But he still promised to keep quiet about it, including pantomiming zipping his lips and throwing away the key. Which he then had to dive after and unlock so he could ask if Detroit was far away. He seemed happy enough to hear that we had to drive for a couple days, even if I wasn¡¯t entirely sure he had any real concept for how far that was.


    While Paige set about changing the license plate again, and added a spoiler to the back of the van that hadn¡¯t been there before, I focused on our new friend. ¡°Okay, so, you know about my powers now. Which you''re totally going to keep secret. But what about yours? I mean, what can you do?¡± It was awkward to ask, but I couldn¡¯t think of any other way to broach the subject, and it was probably important for us to know.


    Qwerty jumped to the ground before peering up at me. ¡°Uhhh I can glide, I can count pretty good, I can fit like eight acorns in my cheeks, that¡¯s pretty cool. What else¡­ uh, I can speak English, that¡¯s a neat trick for a squirrel-bird, right?¡± He seemed to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. ¡°Hmm, let me see.¡± Plopping down right there on the roof of the van, he started pawing at the air in front of him, fingers brushing through nothing as though he was using a touchscreen.


    ¡°Uh, what¡¯re you doing?¡± I found myself asking curiously.


    ¡°Just checking my tags,¡± came the distracted response while he continued to flick his fingers at empty air as though scanning down on the screen. ¡°No¡­ no, wait is the ability to detect if Old Lady Farthers cheaped out and went with store brand peanut butter from a hundred yards a power?¡±


    Exchanging a glance with Paige, I pressed, ¡°I-- hang on, what do you mean you¡¯re checking your tags?¡±


    He blinked at me. ¡°You know, that thing where when you look at someone or something you get this information panel full of everything you know about them, and you can write in little notes and stuff?¡± Interpreting our stares, he tilted his tiny head. ¡°What, is that a power? Jeez, next you¡¯ll start saying you guys don¡¯t have the ¡®make better¡¯ sense either.¡±


    ¡°The make be--¡± Stopping myself, I focused on the first part to start with. ¡°Okay, no, we definitely don¡¯t see information panels floating in the air. I mean¡­¡± I glanced toward Paige, who very well might have that sort of thing for all I knew. But best not to confuse the issue. ¡°You literally see words in the air?¡±


    Qwerty¡¯s head bobbed. ¡°Well, only when I open the panels. Otherwise it¡¯s just a little dot right next to you. Or her. Or anything else I put a tag on. Like that.¡± He pointed to a nearby overturned milk crate, poked his finger toward it, and made a noise of satisfaction. ¡°There, gave it a couple tags. Now when I look at it again and open the info panel¡­¡± His finger flicked the air again. ¡°Presto!¡± He was clearly reading something that wasn¡¯t visible for us. ¡°It says ¡®Crate¡¯, ¡®blue¡¯, ¡®tag example¡¯, and ¡®probably a good place to sit.¡¯ Hang on.¡± Another couple flicks of his paw before reading his correction. ¡°Probably a good place to sit unless you¡¯re too small and fall through the holes. You really can¡¯t do that?¡±


    Paige smiled a tiny bit. ¡°No, we definitely can¡¯t. What¡¯s that ¡®make better¡¯ sense you were talking about?¡±


    ¡°Ohhh you know that one,¡± Qwerty insisted. ¡°The thing where when you watch someone making or fixing something, you can figure out how they can do it better.¡± Again, he looked confused by our reactions. ¡°... you can¡¯t do that either?¡±


    ¡°Hang on,¡± I quickly put in, ¡°you watch someone working on something and figure out how they can do it better? What sort of things can you improve?¡±


    ¡°Oh lots of things!¡± The little guy started ticking them off on his paws. ¡°I used to watch Mrs. Olsor bake through her kitchen window and there was all sorts of stuff she could¡¯ve done to make her cookies better. She puts in too much salt, she adds the vanilla all wrong and doesn¡¯t stir it in right, she should¡¯ve used the milk with the red lid, not the one with the blue lid, that sorta thing, you know? Or when I watched this guy in a red hat fix his car, there was all sorts of stuff he could¡¯ve done to make it work better. If I know what they¡¯re trying to make, or fix, or build, I can figure out how they could do it even better. I just watch them work, think about what they¡¯re trying to make, and then the stuff they need to do to make it even better just pops into my head. Is that weird? Now that I say it like that, it¡¯s probably weird.¡±


    ¡°Weird?¡± Paige shook her head, looking almost maniacally gleeful. ¡°You are going to be amazing for helping Trevithick build her stuff. And plenty of other things.¡±


    She had a point. We were definitely going to have to talk to our new friend some more about these powers of his when there was more time. But right now there wasn''t. Which became even more clear as Robert came back around the corner, putting his phone away. ¡°Okay, it''s been dealt with. If we can get--¡± He paused, squinting at the sight of the van. ¡°You changed the color, and added a spoiler.¡±


    ¡°We changed the license plate too,¡± I replied. ¡°You didn¡¯t think we were gonna try to get out of town with a van that looked exactly the same, did you? We had a plan to get out of here if we ran into trouble. Just--that was maybe a little more than we were expecting.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°Just don¡¯t ask us to do it again, cuz that took up the entire color transfer tool Trevithick gave us. Still, I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll recognize the van at a glance, anyway.¡±


    Paige put the wrench away while speaking up. ¡°It''ll help if we can get on the road before they have time to react too much and call in even more reinforcements. We need to leave.¡±


    Robert seemed to consider all of us for a few seconds, weighing how to respond. In the end, he nodded. ¡°I have a car around here. If you drop me off, I''ll drive ahead and keep in contact over the radio to let you know what''s out there. We can meet up again once we¡¯re a few hundred miles away from these people and go over what''s coming next.¡± He looked toward Qwerty then. ¡°What about you?¡±


    The squirrel-bird TONI jumped to my leg, then ran up to perch on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m part of the team!¡± he chirped cheerfully. ¡°Right, Style?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I confirmed casually. ¡°He¡¯s staying with us now. Not like he has anything around here to tie him down.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Robert replied with a shrug. ¡°In that case, let¡¯s go. And be careful. We might¡¯ve given the Breakwater people the slip for the moment, but they¡¯re not just going to give up. Now they¡¯ve gone from wiping up evidence to potentially dealing with a group that could have a backdoor into their prison. They won¡¯t take that sitting down. When their bosses find out what¡¯s going on and get involved, they¡¯ll be out in force, and they¡¯ll be trying to identify who we are.


    ¡°And if they find any of you, something tells me they¡¯re not the type of people who care that torture isn¡¯t a good method of getting information.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-14

    Okay, so, obviously this whole thing hadn''t gone at all the way we had expected it to. Not that that was surprising, really. We had known there was no way to plan for everything that could possibly happen. But still, this was pushing it a little bit. First we ran into Robert Parson of all people, then we found a TONI who was now part of the team? Yeah, it was safe to say that this was very different than anything either Paige or I had ever considered as a possibility. Honestly, I thought we¡¯d be fighting a lot more of Pittman¡¯s goons.


    But the important part was that we had the machine. And we were alive and in one piece, that was pretty big too. I wasn''t exactly sure how that would''ve gone without Robert''s help. I probably would''ve had to use my power more openly, for one. And that would have brought the force of Breakwater and anything else they could muster down on our heads back in Detroit. I didn''t even want to think about how bad that could have gotten.


    So, instead, I focused on what had actually happened. We had the machine and Breakwater had no idea who we were. At least, not so far. Now all we had to do was get safely back to Detroit with it.


    To that end, we were following Robert down the freeway. He was about half a mile ahead in his own car, using a short range radio to stay in contact. He had assured us that the radios were from some communication focused Tech-Touched, and that it was impossible for anyone else to hear what was sent through them. Their signals couldn''t be intercepted. Of course, we didn''t just take his word for it. Paige had tried using her own system to break into the encrypted signals between the radios but to no avail. If there was a way to eavesdrop on them, she couldn''t do it. And that was going to have to be good enough for me.


    Thankfully, I had another bit of distraction helping me avoid dwelling on all the ways what we had done could''ve gone wrong. Namely, Qwerty. He was perched on my shoulder as I sat in the passenger seat beside Paige, who was driving. Well, sometimes he was on my shoulder. Other times he jumped to my head, or over to Paige herself, or up on the dashboard, the windowsill, anywhere he wanted to go as he kept pointing at various things, asking what they were, where they come from, if he could lick them (that came up a surprising amount, he really liked licking things), and so on. He was incredibly curious about everything he saw, and asked questions like a hyperactive little kid. And he kept taking notes. Or rather, planting notes. Every time he asked about something, I saw him flicking his hands around to open those invisible notes of his so he could record things on the object itself. Which made me wonder how long those notes stuck around. When I asked him, he said he¡¯d put notes on things and gone back over a week later to find it still there. So were they just permanent?


    Paige and I answered everything we could, including telling him not to lick things like that. I wasn''t sure how much he listened to that last bit, but we were doing our best.


    There were a lot of cops on the freeway too. I wasn''t sure if that was just my paranoia, if there was something else going on, or if they were actually working with the Breakwater people. Either way, I knew we were still in a dangerous situation. The van looked different than it had, but that didn''t mean they wouldn''t figure out where we were. If I was seeing this many cops on the road, I could only imagine how many Breakwater cars were out there scouring every inch of the freeway for us in every direction.


    Maybe they would decide we had escaped another way? After all, they didn''t know we were limited to ground transport. Maybe we had a plane, or some sort of teleportation? Or maybe we had gone to ground. They were probably tearing apart the town back there brick by brick, if I had to guess.


    Whatever they were doing, every mile we put between us and Tooele put us another step closer to getting out of this whole thing in one piece. Robert was watching for any roadblocks or other traps, letting us know whenever he noticed a cop paying too much attention to other vehicles. We maneuvered around those situations, taking off ramps and driving around other towns until he signaled that the cops (or possibly ¡®cops¡¯) had moved on. Then we made our way back to the freeway once more and kept going.


    Finally, after several hours of that, we had made it a couple hundred miles south of Tooele. It was the opposite direction than the way we had come in, which had seemed to be the safest way to go. We would keep going south, then make our way east through Colorado and back north.


    After arranging to meet Robert at a roadside motel up ahead, I slumped back in my seat and looked at the dash, where Qwerty was enthusiastically licking a Life Saver Paige had given him. ¡°Are you as hungry as I am? Because I feel like I could devour half a cow at this point. I''d even be willing to risk having to thwart another robbery if it meant we could eat lunch first.¡± It had been a really long morning, and now that the danger was basically over, my stomach had spent the past while reminding me that it existed.


    Qwerty, for his part, bobbed that tiny head of his rapidly, his beak clacking together a couple times. ¡°Food!¡± he cheered enthusiastically. ¡°If we turn around and go back, I can show you the best dumpsters to dig into! Some of the stuff they throw away is still warm!¡±


    Blanching heavily, I put one hand over my stomach and shook my head. ¡°You know, tasty as that sounds, we can''t go back there, remember?¡±


    ¡°Ohhh yeah.¡± he sounded and looked a bit embarrassed about forgetting before perking up. ¡°Hey, I bet if you let me stick my head out the window I could find some other good dumpsters. I¡¯m really good at finding the best ones!¡±


    Before I could find a response for that, Paige replied, ¡°I think we can do better than dumpsters. We¡¯ll get you a whole fresh meal all to yourself. And if you play your cards right, there might even be a toy in it.¡±


    Sure enough, we stopped for food and pulled around the back of the store, in a spot furthest from any other vehicle so we could have some privacy. Qwerty got a kids meal with apple slices and broken up pieces of chicken nuggets. At first I wasn''t sure how that would go over, considering the whole part-parrot thing, but both he and Paige assured me it wasn''t anything close to cannibalism. And, of course, he got the toy in the meal, which turned out to be a little race car. He proceeded to run around the back of the van with it, giving off loud vrooming sounds as he made the toy race along the walls and floor. For the moment at least, he was thoroughly distracted by that.


    Meanwhile, the rest of us ate our own food, half-listening to Qwerty playing with that toy car. Robert was standing just outside the driver¡¯s side door, his own car parked nearby as he watched the nearby freeway for anything untoward. His voice was low. ¡°I think we''ve lost the bulk of our pursuit right now. They probably think we''re holed up back in town in one of his other houses. But keep your eyes open just in case. And don''t do anything to draw attention.¡± He looked at me directly. ¡°That means no interfering in any more robberies until we¡¯re back in Detroit. You don''t want to give those people any way to track your movements. Because believe me, they will be watching for anything out of the ordinary. And if they put enough together to figure out that you''re going to Detroit, this is going to become even more complicated than it already is.¡±


    Well, he was right about the complicated thing, that was for sure. Even discounting all this Pittman machine stuff, I had a thousand things I wanted to ask. But even getting into one of those things would involve saying more than I probably should have. It was far too dangerous. He was so close to my parents. There was no way he wouldn''t tell them who I really was if he figured it out, right? Even if so much of my¡­ everything was telling me to trust him, it was just¡­ I couldn¡¯t risk it, right? My subconscious wanted me to trust him because he apparently saved my life. But I couldn¡¯t actually remember how that happened. I didn¡¯t remember anything about my actual relationship with him beyond some feelings that might not even have been real and that I didn¡¯t know the context of. Him saving my life didn''t mean he wouldn''t tell my parents the truth. Hell, he might do it just because he thought it was the right thing. He might think he was protecting me or something. The fact was, even if he still cared about me and I hadn¡¯t been just another protection job, he could still say too much to my family.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    So, needless to say, I was incredibly conflicted. It was a good thing I was still wearing my mask (I¡¯d put it back on as soon as we got near him, after taking it off while we were driving) so he couldn''t see the expression on my face, even if that made it a bit awkward to sit here like this. He was probably wondering why I was keeping my face secret from him, but I didn''t have much choice on that. It was either let him wonder why I was hiding my face, or allow him see it. And if he saw it, I would have a hell of a lot more questions to answer. Questions that I was pretty sure he wouldn''t be satisfied with half-truths to.


    Shaking that off, I gave the man a short nod. Part of me wanted to argue with him about needing to help people even if doing so was dangerous, but I was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t fit with me being Style. I was already treading on pretty thin ice keeping up this ruse. ¡°Yeah, don''t worry, I think we can stay quiet for now. But hey, stepping in to stop that robbery before is what gave us the crystal we used to stop the flying guy back there, so it wasn''t exactly a waste--hey how did you know we were the ones who did that in the first place? That was in a completely different state.¡±


    Robert offered me a very slight smile, clearing his throat. ¡°Ah, let¡¯s just say I spent some of that driving time just now doing some checking through the news reports over the past couple days along the routes you were most likely to have taken. Read through with some of those witness reports and put two and two together. But like I said, the Breakwater people can do that too. I don''t know if they''ll figure out it was you back during that whole thing, but they''ll definitely be watching for anything out of the ordinary now. So stay low and don''t stand out. Getting that machine back home is the most important thing if you want to save those people.¡±


    Paige, sitting between us in the actual driver¡¯s seat, made a soft coughing sound under her breath before speaking up. ¡°We do. You know who I am, so you know who Irelyn is to me.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Robert confirmed, watching her reaction intently. ¡°Does that mean you care about her and that she''s more than just the absent daughter of the people who bought you?¡± The actual words might have seemed harsh on their own, but it was clear that he was genuinely curious about how she felt about that whole thing.


    Paige, for her part, paused, one hand gripping the wheel tightly even though we weren''t going anywhere. Then she gave a short nod. ¡°I''m not sure how I feel exactly. But she went through all this to try to help me. At least in part. She¡­ did more than I ever thought she would, and she¡¯s only in this position because I lied to her. This whole thing, her ending up on Breakwater, that--all of it is because of me.¡±


    Us, I wanted to correct her. I definitely helped with the lying to Irelyn thing. It was both of our faults. Well, and Pittman¡¯s too, of course. He wasn''t exactly blameless in this. But Paige was right about Irelyn only being there because we had misled her. Which just made me wonder how different this whole situation would be if we¡¯d told her the truth. Or at least didn¡¯t send her down to Florida.


    That hit me hard, like a punch in the gut. What if my parents died because of this? What if they never recovered and it was all because Paige and I had decided to lie to Irelyn and create a chain of events that had led to this? How would I ever recover from something like that? I slumped in my seat a little, glad that the mask disguised my probably-horrified expression. Not that it hid my body language, of course. Which Robert seemed to notice, turning to look at me more directly. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    Swallowing hard, I gave a little nod. ¡°Yeah,¡± I managed in a thick voice that probably wasn''t all that convincing. ¡°I-- it¡¯s just a lot. Pittman, he¡­ he''s a piece of shit. I owe him a broken face and maybe a few other broken things.¡± That much, at least, was true for both the real Style and me. Though she might''ve just flat out said she wanted to kill him. ¡°I want to give that bastard what he deserves, and maybe we actually can with that thing.¡± I waved a hand toward the machine in the back, which Qwerty was still ¡®driving¡¯ the toy car around. ¡°So yeah, maybe I''m a little anxious to get back there and get on with this.¡±


    Paige balled up her hamburger wrapper and tossed it in the bag before speaking firmly. ¡°We all want to get on with this. But we can''t rush it. If we get pulled over anywhere on the ride home¡­ yeah, maybe the Breakwater people aren¡¯t actively searching for us this far out, but they¡¯ll damn sure be monitoring for any vans getting stopped by the authorities. And with a van like this, the cops¡¯ll want to check the back. I¡¯m not sure what they¡¯d think that thing is, but they¡¯ll report it.¡±


    She was right, if we did anything that attracted the attention of the authorities, Breakwater would know about it. No matter how badly I wanted to rush home and get on with this, we had to take it slow and steady. Even if the thought of sitting in the van for the next two days gradually driving back to Detroit sounded completely agonizing.


    ¡°I suppose that means you won¡¯t be driving that much,¡± Robert noted with a look my way. ¡°As fun as that little escape back in Tooele might''ve been, your style doesn''t exactly scream subtle.¡± He paused, then gave a soft chuckle. ¡°Style.¡±


    Well, at least he seemed to be buying that that was who I was. Which was a good thing, right? So why did a sharp pang of regret pass through me at the thought? It was like I felt bad about lying to this man, even though I didn''t even know him. But that wasn''t quite right, was it? Part of me, a buried, blocked-off part, knew him incredibly well. It made me feel sick inside. When I looked at his face, I wanted nothing more than to trust the man and tell him everything, all of it from the very start during that night at the old motel. It was so hard to sit there and lie to him. Somehow, it was even worse than lying to my parents. Or maybe it just felt worse in this moment, because of everything that was going on. Either way, it made a knot twist itself into my stomach. I didn¡¯t trust my voice right then. I knew if I said anything, he would be able to hear the truth in my voice.


    Thankfully, Paige spoke instead. ¡°Well, we may need to take our time and avoid attention, but that doesn''t mean we have to drag our feet. Let''s get back on the road.¡± There was a brief pause before she added, ¡°After we grab some snacks. Probably best if we don''t have to stop for a while.¡± So, she headed for the gas station next to the fast food place we had just grabbed lunch from, to grab a few bags-worth of road trip supplies. Robert went too, leaving me to chat with our new TONI friend for a minute. Or I would have, but Qwerty had finally tired himself out and slumped down in a corner with his wings folded around himself like a blanket. He was still possessively hugging the car close to his tiny body like it was his favorite thing in the world.


    I didn''t want to disturb so I turned it back to my phone and was checking for any news from Tooele, when a voice spoke up from near the window. ¡°It¡¯d probably be easier if you stopped trying to hide, you know.¡±


    The words made me jump. It was Robert. Fuck, how sneaky was this guy? I hadn¡¯t even heard him approach. ¡°What?¡± I managed, turning to stare at him through my open window.


    ¡°I know the truth,¡± he informed me simply. ¡°The height, the body type, the voice, it all fits.¡±


    Oh God, oh no, oh shit. Mind racing, I opened and shut my mouth, struggling to find words. What was I supposed to say? How could I--what was he--why¡­


    ¡°Pittman made you look like her, didn¡¯t he?¡± Robert continued, staring intently at me. ¡°He made you look like Cassidy so you could take her place, before you rebelled. That¡¯s what¡¯s under that mask, the reason you keep it on even though Paige isn¡¯t wearing hers. You¡¯re trying to hide that you look like Cassidy Evans. Which means that you know what I am¡­. was to her.¡±


    Oh, he figured out some of the truth but had gone in the wrong direction with it. That was perfect. He gave me an excuse to let him see my face without revealing who I really was. I couldn¡¯t have asked for a more convenient mistake. It solved so many problems, at least in the immediate sense.


    So, I gave a short nod of agreement. But the words that came out of my mouth in that moment were, ¡°No. I¡¯m not a--¡±


    Whatever I was about to say next, which even I wasn¡¯t sure of, was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. It echoed through the air, even as Robert pitched forward against the van. I saw blood appear on his shirt, before he dropped to the ground out of sight, giving me a clear view of the sniper on the far side of the lot who had taken that shot.


    I had no more words then. All I had was the scream that tore its way out of my throat.


    A scream that seemed to come both in that very moment, and from a long-forgotten past. The scream of a sixteen-year-old girl, and an eleven-year-old child each witnessing the same event five years apart. I saw Bobby fall now, and I saw him fall then. I saw the blood. I saw¡­ I saw¡­


    I saw it all.

 Together And Alone 27-15

    Looking back, I could say that I would have died, or at least been shot, in that moment if it wasn''t for one thing. Or rather, one being. Qwerty was there, and even as I screamed at the sight of Bobby being shot and slumping to the ground, the TONI was already up and reacting. His tiny body collided with the back of my head with enough force to shove it forward and down a bit, just as another bullet tore through the spot where my face had been an instant earlier.


    Hitting the floor of the van, I grabbed Qwerty and painted both of us orange while we stayed down. Two more shots hit the van, but the people who had provided it for us had made sure it was armored. Still, it wasn''t exactly fun to hear the shots slamming against the metal. Especially when I knew Bobby was on the ground right outside.


    It was that thought that made me start to push myself up once more, a snarl of rage escaping me. I wasn''t thinking about how dangerous it was. I wasn''t thinking about a plan or about what else might be out there. The only thing on my mind was that the man across the parking lot had hurt Bobby. Maybe even killed him. Images of the blood blossoming on Bobby''s shirt, of him slumping out of sight, of what his body might look like as it lay on the ground, all filled my head. It took away every coherent thought I had. The only thing on my mind in that moment was the fact that I was going to find that sniper and hurt him.


    In the background, I could hear Paige¡¯s voice. It was coming through my earbud as she connected to my phone, saying something about how she was pinned down in the store and wanting to know if we were hit. She sounded frantic, but I couldn''t respond. My mouth wouldn''t form the words.I was too far gone in my rage.


    Instead, I shoved the driver''s side door open and dropped out to the pavement before falling onto my side to look under the van. I was terrified about what I was about to see.


    Bobby was there. He had pulled himself under the van for some sort of cover. He wasn''t moving very much, his face looking pallid. Even as I looked that way, several quick bullets ricocheted off the ground near inches from where he had managed to pull himself. The van was covering him, but the sniper was still trying to get a shot underneath it. He was already down, and they were trying to follow up by killing him. They were actively trying to kill Bobby.


    If I had been angry before, it was nothing compared to the blinding rage that flooded my mind in that moment. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself on top of that fucking sniper, rip the gun out of his hands, and beat him with it until he wasn''t moving anymore. I had heard of seeing red from anger, of course. But this was one of my first experiences with that. I completely forgot about everything else. The only thing on my mind was making that son of a bitch pay for hurting and trying to kill Bobby.


    To that end, I activated every bit of paint I had under my clothes. Purple, green, and orange, I was using all my enhancements across basically my entire body. Paige¡¯s voice was still going off in my ear and I was saying something, but I wasn''t even sure what. The words just came as I pushed myself up. Something about them hurting Bobby. Paige kept saying something, her voice growing more worried and frantic while the sound of more gunshots echoed through the connection. But those weren''t coming from this sniper. There was another one keeping her pinned down in the gas station.


    She was yelling something about not going out there, sounding more afraid than I had heard her before. Still, I wasn''t listening. The words just rolled off my back as I threw myself into a running start around the side of the van. The sniper who had been trying to hit Bobby underneath the car adjusted his aim, but not quickly enough. One shot rebounded off the front bumper and another whistled just past my left shoulder as I sprinted faster than the man anticipated. Coming around the front of the hood, I activated blue paint on my shoes and launched myself up and forward. It was another move the sniper hadn''t seen coming, as two more shots passed through where I would''ve been if I hadn''t jumped.


    He adjusted his aim again after that, of course. And I probably would''ve taken a couple hits. Who knows how much they would''ve hurt even with the orange paint. But I didn''t have to find out. The man suddenly recoiled before he could shoot as something small bounced off his SWAT-like helmet. It was Qwerty¡¯s toy car. He had thrown himself into the air and tossed the thing that way to distract the man. It gave me an opening.


    Later, Paige would say something about me retaining enough sense not to use my active paint where the bad guys could see. But, to be honest, I didn''t do that intentionally. I was just so angry I wasn''t thinking about anything. As I hit the ground, I used another burst of blue paint on my shoes to throw myself forward.


    In that moment, I saw the sniper turn his aim just a bit until he was pointing it dead center at my forehead. It was too late¡­ for him. I collided with the man at top speed, crashing into him with enough force to knock him onto his back and send the man sliding across the dirt with me on top of him. He kept holding his gun until I ripped it out of his hands with my enhanced strength while we were still sliding. A hard toss with one hand sent it sailing out of the way just as the back of his helmet crashed into an old broken tire that had been left in this field.


    He said something then, but it wasn''t to me. He was saying some sort of code, probably about how he was being attacked. I didn''t care. With one hand, I ripped his helmet off so I could see his surprisingly beautiful face. The guy looked like he was only a few years older than I was. But I didn''t care about that either. I pulled back my fist and punched him in that somewhat flushed face. His head was knocked backwards and down into the ground while he tried to grab a knife from a sheath on his side. I let him get it, then grabbed his wrist with my other hand, activated a full set of purple paint under my clothes, and ripped the weapon from his grasp. I wasn¡¯t being gentle or careful, and I heard at least one of his fingers and possibly his wrist break from the force, drawing a yelp of pain from the man.


    The blade went sailing away too before I punched him in the face again. And again, then a fourth time. I saw blood from his nose but it didn''t matter. I was punching him even more. Over and over again. I didn''t see his face. I saw Bobby standing there at the window. I saw the blood appear on his chest. I saw him pale on the ground. I saw him laying helpless under the van while this piece of shit kept trying to shoot him again.


    I was in the backseat of the car, lying there helpless and terrified while Bobby tried to tell me things would be okay. I saw the old man behind him with the gun. My mouth opened to scream a warning, but it wasn''t enough. More blood appeared on Bobby''s chest as he was shot. He fell down. He''d already been shot before, back inside the house as he was carrying me through it, but this was worse. He fell down, he wasn''t supposed to fall down.


    Bobby! Bobby, you''re not supposed to fall down!


    That old man was there. He was the one who shot Bobby. He was standing right there, saying something about his son-in-law, but all I could do was say Bobby''s name over and over, feeling the soul-crushing pain of seeing him collapse.


    Bobby saved me. I was on the patio, on the back patio by the pool. There were bad guys there. They killed Anthony and his family. They killed Anthony! Anthony!


    Anthony was my best friend. We did everything together, everything. I kept getting him in trouble and he helped get me out of it. We went on adventures in our backyards, which, if you put them together, equaled miles and miles of grounds to explore. We went to the movies, we went on vacation, we would''ve gone to school together but his parents always homeschooled him. I didn''t even know why, they were just private. It made me want to be homeschooled, just so I could be like him, but my parents wanted me to have more interaction with other people.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    I saw his face, I heard his voice, I saw a hundred, a thousand tiny interactions spread over the years I had known him. We were in my backyard while he doubled over laughing at something I had said while I stood there grinning. He was on the back of a sled I had set up at the top of a steep snowy hill, talking about how dangerous this was while I assured him I knew what I was doing. We flew down that hill and ended up crashing into a snowbank. It was terrifying, but also one of the best times of my life, because I was there with my friend. It didn''t matter what we were doing, if Anthony was there, it was always amazing. We could finish each other''s sentences. We could always make each other happy, no matter what was going on.


    I saw everything. I saw every little interaction I''d had with my best friend. I saw our arguments, seldom as they might''ve been, and which always ended with a campout. That was our rule. We could argue, but when we were done, we had a campout in one of our backyards and cooked s''mores before sleeping in the tent. We told stupid, silly, sometimes scary stories. I was actually the one who told the silly ones, while Anthony told the scary ones. That might''ve been strange, considering I was the one who always talked him into doing stupid, dangerous stuff. But Anthony liked scary stories, because they were stories.


    He hated pickles and onions on his burgers, but he always got them anyway, because I like having extra, so I took his pickles and onions, and he took my lettuce. He liked having big clumps of lettuce on his burgers, especially if it crunched properly. He loved it when it crunched. He liked to make his first bite of a burger extra crunchy.


    I was standing on the rear-most train car, the caboose, while we were taking a trip somewhere in Europe. We were out on the little balcony, watching the mountains pass by. I was pretty sure you weren''t even supposed to be out here, but between who I was and who my family were, I was able to get there anyway. Anthony was beside me, his hand on my arm while we gaped at the beautiful scenery. I couldn''t even remember where we were going in that moment, but there we were. Anthony''s hand tightened on my arm, as he spoke up. ¡°What do you think would happen if we fell off?¡±


    He wasn''t being paranoid or saying that just to worry about something. Anthony liked to make up stories like this, using his imagination to pretend something dire had happened and we had to find a way to escape or survive.


    Leaning out a bit, a look down at the tracks, then turned back to my friend and shrugged. ¡°We''d be in the middle of nowhere. We¡¯d have to hike along the tracks and find the nearest town.¡±


    His head bobbed quickly. ¡°It''s probably miles and miles and miles. We have to camp outside and hide from wild animals. I bet we¡¯d have to pick berries and maybe even catch fish. Do you think we could catch fish in that stream over there?¡± He pointed off into the distance.


    ¡°Of course we could,¡± I claimed, despite having absolutely no idea. What I lacked in knowledge I made up for with persistence and confidence. ¡°We''d catch fish and walk by the tracks until we found someone.¡±


    ¡°What if it was a bad someone?¡± he asked with a nervous smile at his own imagination. ¡°What if it was a killer who lives out here because the cops are looking for him?¡±


    Straightening up proudly, I gave a firm nod. ¡°Well, then we''d just have to catch him, wouldn''t we? He¡¯d try to chase us, but we''d lead him into a trap and capture him. Then there¡¯d be all these news stories about how two kids got lost in the wilderness but caught a psycho murderer. We¡¯d be heroes.¡±


    Anthony swallowed a little, but met my gaze as he pointed out, ¡°It would be pretty dangerous. He''d try to hurt us, even kill us.¡±


    My head shook as I reached out to grab my friend''s hand and squeezed it. ¡°Don''t worry, Anthony. I won''t let the psycho murderer hurt you.¡±


    Anthony started to smile back, saying something else. Then, with a crack of explosive thunder, he was kneeling by his pool, at his birthday party. His mother was already dead right there, everyone was dead. I was staring at them from the patio doorway as Anthony begged for his life, pleaded for his mom to come back. He was sobbing, I was sobbing, and none of them cared. The man with the gun said it wasn''t personal and shot him. He shot Anthony. He shot my friend!


    Bobby was there. Bobby saved me. He picked me up and shot the bad guys. He carried me through the house and all the way up to the sedan. He dropped me in the car and then the old man, my grandfather, it was my grandfather, he showed up and shot Bobby. He was going to take me away, but my dad came. My dad saved me. He was Silversmith. I saw him as Silversmith, but without the helmet, as he cut my grandfather''s head off. He killed my grandfather to save me, and to save Bobby. I was there, crying into his arms while he told me everything would be okay.


    I was in my room, talking to Paige, the young Paige. We were trying to help each other get better, trying to deal with what happened to Anthony. The deep, dark pit of despair I had fallen into was a little bit better because of her. She was still here. She remembered Anthony, and she could help. We could help each other. We would always be there for each other.


    But then Kent came. He erased my memory. I saw him reaching for me and I wanted him to stop, but he wouldn''t. My parents thought it was the right thing to do. They let him take my memories away. They let him erase Anthony even more than that bullet had. The bad guys might have killed Anthony, but my parents and Kent erased him. They took him away from me. And, even if they didn''t know it, they took Paige away too. The one person who could have really helped me get past what happened, and they erased her. They took Paige away at the same time that they took Anthony.


    And it wasn''t just bad for me. I was the only one who knew about Paige besides her father. I was the one who could''ve helped her. Not only with what happened with her dad, but with her own grief. Anthony was her friend too. The two of us were her only friends and my grandfather¡¯s men took Anthony away before my parents took me away. They ripped me away from her when she needed me. For the past five years, she had needed me and I wasn''t there. We needed each other but my family stopped that. They erased us from each other. They didn''t mean to. They didn''t know. They had no idea exactly how much they were taking away, how much they were hurting both of us.


    But even if they didn''t know, they still did it. They erased Paige from my mind. They erased Anthony. That one they meant to do, thinking they were helping. But they weren''t. They made everything worse. For the past five years I had known I was missing something, some part of me had been grieving for Anthony and even my lost relationship with Paige, but I had no idea what it was. I couldn''t grieve properly because they erased the memory. They didn''t erase the grief, they just stopped me from being able to cope with it and move on.


    I remembered. I remembered all of it. I knew Anthony as well as I ever had. I remembered everything we had done together, everything we had done with Paige. I remembered meeting her. I remembered all of it, every last bit. I remembered my life with them. I remembered telling Paige my deepest, most fearful secret, about how I wasn¡¯t sure if I was always a girl every moment of every day, that sometimes I felt more like a boy, and how confusing and scary it was. I remembered hours upon hours of talking to her about whether it made me a freak. She was there, she talked me through it. After all, she had the unique perspective of being a Biolem. I remembered all of that.


    And I remembered losing it. I remembered it being ripped away. My understanding of myself and what I was or could have been was so tied up in my memories with Paige that when I¡¯d lost those memories, I lost¡­ the others as well.


    Now I remembered. I remembered the grief as it exploded back into full strength. I remembered the pain in my knuckles, the sound of someone shouting in my ear while pulling me backward.


    Wait, no, that wasn''t a memory. It was happening right now. Paige was there, pulling me off the sniper. He was laying there bloody and groaning painfully. I had started hitting him and didn''t stop. I had pummeled his face, his chest, smacked his arms and hands when he tried to stop me. I definitely broke more than just his finger and wrist. Through all of that, I had just kept hitting him. I wasn''t even seeing him at that point. I just saw everything that had been taken away from me, everything I had lost, and I kept punching over and over again.


    Paige pulled me off of him, saying something about how she had already taken care of the other guy. I was hugging her. I grabbed the girl tightly and held on, babbling about how I remembered everything. It took her a second, but she seemed to realize what I was saying and returned the embrace tightly.


    We sat there like that on the ground, hugging each other as hard as we could stand. Only one thing made me pull back in that moment, one thing made me twist my head to look over at the van, where I could still see the man lying under it. ¡°Bobby!¡± I shouted, my present words seeming to mix with all the times I had shouted his name throughout the memories that had poured back into my mind.


    ¡°We have to save Bobby!¡±

 Together And Alone 27-16

    Given the choice, I would have simply sat in a dark room with my head against my knees and focused on working my way through all the memories that had come slamming their way back into my brain. There was so much there, so many thoughts and realizations about so many things. Losing my memories of Anthony and Paige had ripped a huge piece of myself out and left an ugly hole in who I was. Now I had those memories back, and I needed to sift through all of them. But I couldn''t. Not right now. Not when Bobby was in trouble.


    That, to be honest, was probably the only thing that could possibly have distracted me from dealing with my memories. The image of Bobby being shot in the back like that kept playing through my head. No, it was more than that. It was both images. I saw him being shot in the back here, and five years ago.


    Was that what had broken through the power suppressing my memories to begin with? I had been so thoroughly traumatized by the sight of Bobby being shot like that after he saved my life five years ago. And just now I¡¯d seen him shot in the back again. Hell, it was even while he was outside a vehicle I was sitting in. Did that similarity break through Kent¡¯s power? That had to be it, right? It was the only thing that made sense.


    All those thoughts were rushing through my mind as I scrambled to my feet and ran back that way with Paige right behind me. The two of us carefully pulled Bobby out from under the van. I saw the blood all over his chest and started to say something, but Paige grabbed my arm and gave me a shove. ¡°I''ll help him! Get in the van and drive! We''ve gotta get out of here!¡± She was already opening the back doors and lifting him up inside.


    She was right, of course. We had to get the hell out of this place. I didn''t know how the Breakwater guys had found us, but there would be more any second. Scrambling around to the side of the van, I jumped in and started the engine once more. We were leaving Bobby''s car here, but there was no way around that. I just hoped he didn''t have anything in it that would cause problems if they found it. There wasn¡¯t any time to do anything else.


    Blinking away the furious tears that were trying to blind me, I glanced over my shoulder into the back briefly, only to see Paige doing some sort of emergency first aid while Qwerty perched nearby giving advice. Oh right, his power. He could help when people were building or fixing things. That extended to fixing injuries. I just hoped between the two of them, they could--


    A shudder ran through me and I tightened my grip on the wheel while dismissing that thought. I couldn''t think about that. Just--I had to focus.


    ¡°We''ve gotta find the nearest hospital!¡± I shouted over my shoulder while sending the van rocketing down the freeway once more. There were sirens in the distance, and I just had to hope we didn''t end up in another chase with more cops. I was pretty sure we couldn''t explain anything about this if it came down to it.


    Paige, however, called from the back. ¡°No hospitals! Follow these directions!¡± Even as she said that, a set of GPS coordinates appeared on the van¡¯s main console. It was for a place about ten miles away. I wanted to question that, reflexively trying to argue with her. But I knew she was right. As terrified as I was about what is going to happen to Bobby, if we took him to a hospital, the cops would be there. There was no way we could get away with any of this if we took him there. Not that would''ve stopped me if it was the only way. Now that my memories were back and I knew exactly how much Bobby meant to me, I would gladly have surrendered my identity to the entire goddamn world if it was the only way to save his life. But if Paige thought there was something else we could do, somewhere else to go, I was going to trust her. I did trust her, especially with this. She was my friend, my¡­ she was Paige.


    So, I followed her coordinates, listening the whole time as she and Qwerty kept working on Bobby using a first aid kit she¡¯d pulled from some compartment back there.


    I was under no delusions about how serious this was. The other two were doing everything they could to stop him from dying, but we had to get to this place and hope that wherever she was sending us, someone there could actually help him.


    Of course, listening to them working in the back didn''t exactly distract me from all those newly-revealed memories. With my hands so tight on the wheel that my knuckles were white even without any use of my power, I watched as all those images of times with Anthony and Paige seemed to fly across the windshield in front of me. It was like watching a slideshow. It was a slideshow I could hear and smell and feel. All those memories, everything I knew about my best friends, it was all right there. I was trying to drive, but between the tears I kept blinking away, and the memories that struggled to take over my consciousness completely, I was afraid I would wreck the van. Only the thought of what would happen to Bobby if I failed right now was enough for me to grit my teeth, push all those thoughts away, and focus on the freeway. Bobby, I had to help Bobby. I had to get him to a doctor. That was the only thing that mattered. Everything else could wait, dammit. Once he was safe, once someone else was helping him, then I could deal with all that. Right now, I had only one job, which was to drive.


    Obviously, it didn''t take very long to travel those ten miles, not the way I was driving, certainly. But it still felt like forever. Every second that passed seemed like a full minute. I was terrified, lost in my own fear about what could happen. But finally, after what seemed like a century, we were pulling up in front of some sort of auto repair shop. But Paige insisted this was the right place. As soon as we stopped, two men in mechanics overalls came running out. Despite the clothes they were wearing, the men looked surprisingly clean, without a speck of grease or dirt on them. More importantly, they were carrying a stretcher. Obviously, Paige had sent word ahead that we were coming. They opened up the back and carefully put Bobby on that stretcher before starting to carry him back toward the garage. Paige hopped out behind them, as I joined her in the lot with Qwerty on my shoulder. She had put her own mask back on, so apparently she didn''t trust these guys quite that much. Part of me wondered if we could trust them with Bobby, but I knew we didn''t have a choice. We couldn''t take him anywhere else.


    Joining Paige, I started to chase after the guys with the stretcher as they carried Bobby to the building. ¡°Who are these people?¡± I hissed, my eyes wide. ¡°Are you sure they can help him?¡±


    Paige was right at my side, her voice firm. ¡°For the right price, they will. Trust me, I planned both our routes there and back so we¡¯d always be close to somewhere we could go if we ran into trouble. They''re a mercenary hospital, like that one back in Detroit. There''s plenty of them all over the place to deal with things Touched might not want to see a regular doctor for. You know, just in case one of those doctors at a regular hospital gets a big mouth. They¡¯ll keep our secrets. They stake their reputation on it.¡±


    Honestly, the idea that Paige had deliberately planned out our driving route so that she would always know the nearest secret hospital to go to didn''t actually surprise me at all. Not with everything else I had experienced with her. And right now, if it saved Bobby''s life, she could obsessively over-plan anything she ever wanted to.


    We followed the fake mechanics into the garage, which looked a lot more like a hospital on the inside. Everything was sterile, and there wasn''t a vehicle in sight. They had a bunch of thick plastic partitions up to create some semblance of privacy, and I saw a man in surgical scrubs flanked by two nurses step out of one of those cordoned off spots. There was a hospital bed and several wheeled tables with a bunch of medical supplies behind them. The doctor waved and called for these guys to bring Bobby that way. As they did so, Paige and I started to follow, but another man in a suit intercepted us with his hands up. ¡°I''m sorry, you''ll have to let them work. I know you''re worried about your friend, but they need space and quiet.¡± He beckoned for us to follow. ¡°I''ll take you to a place where you can wait. I promise, they''re going to do everything they can.¡±


    I wanted to push him out of the way and go after Bobby. I wanted to be right there by the bed just in case. But just in case what? I didn''t have any medical knowledge, so it wasn''t like I could actually help him. Not now that there were doctors here. No, as terrified as I was about what might happen, I couldn''t stand there. All I would do was get in the way.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Paige took my hand and pulled me after the guy who was leading us to a waiting room. She gave me a quick, apologetic look, but I just nodded back at her to show it was okay. Let the doctors work, I just had to let the doctors work.


    That was easier said than done, as we found ourselves sitting in what looked like a normal doctor¡¯s office waiting room, complete with ancient magazines and a television playing some old football game in the corner. There was a remote to change the channel, but I didn''t touch it. I didn''t care about the TV, or the magazines. I didn''t care about anything but sitting there hoping with everything I had that Bobby would be okay. Paige sat beside me while I laid my head in my hands, not saying anything. She just put her hand on my shoulder and sat there silently. From the corner of my eyes, whenever I opened them, I could see Qwerty quietly reading one of the magazines. He had a crayon and was drawing on one of the activity puzzles. Honestly, I needed to talk to him a lot more too, and figure out some stuff about his origin and all that. But again, I couldn''t focus on anything but Bobby.


    Except, maybe, for one thing. My head snapped up abruptly as I blurted, ¡°How did they find us?¡± The words escaped me in a near panic as I snapped my gaze around to stare at Paige. ¡°How the hell did those guys find us? What if they do it again? What if they''re already on their way here?!¡±


    Paige, however, squeezed my shoulder and spoke calmly. ¡°It¡¯s okay. First, if those guys come anywhere within a mile of this place, we''ll know about it. This isn''t these peoples'' first rodeo. They have lookouts on three different roofs watching every road leading this way, plus the guys on top of this one. You know those pits where the mechanics in a shop like this are supposed to be able to get under the cars to work? They have a tunnel leading from here all the way to a secondary location, with an electric cart system for moving patients in a hurry. It''s safe here, and if it turns out it''s not, they know how to evacuate. And second, it wasn¡¯t Breakwater. Those guys were working for my¡­ for Pittman. Not Biolems though, just¡­ mercenaries or something. They must¡¯ve been alerted when we moved the machine, and set up along all the roads in and out of the state. They had goggles to watch for us. Not us, the machine. It''s got some sort of special energy signature even while it''s unplugged. Something about the fuel he used in it or something. I don''t know the details, but they know how to identify it.¡±


    God dammit, of course. Why hadn''t I thought of that? The fact that there was no way I logically could have didn''t matter in that moment, not when I was too busy being angry at myself. ¡°So they''ll find us again! They¡¯ll drive past and find the energy signature--the whatever!¡± I was already starting to stand up, though I didn''t know why. It wasn''t like I could drag Bobby out of there in the condition he was still in. He wasn''t going to be ready to move anytime soon. Worse, we had just exposed this place to those guys, which sent another wave of guilt washing over me.


    ¡°Cassie, stop.¡± Paige caught my arm and tugged me back down, her voice firm. ¡°I took care of it while I was helping Mr. Parson, I promise. You know the rest of those energy crystals we brought? I arranged them all over the machine parts. The power they give off will mask the energy the drones are looking for. Those guys won¡¯t be able to track it anymore.¡±


    My mouth opened, then shut, then opened again as I slipped back in the seat. I was staring at her imploringly, my voice weak and soft. ¡°You promise?¡± If she was wrong, if those guys found us again and brought a whole army in to attack this place while Bobby was in surgery¡­


    Staring right back at me, Paige put her hands on either of my shoulders and squeezed a little. ¡°I swear, Cassie, they won''t find us here. I took one of the goggles those guys were using and checked after I put the crystals on it. You can¡¯t see the energy field that machine gives off anymore. I promise. It''s okay. We''re safe here.¡±


    Maybe we were safe, but Bobby wasn''t. Not yet. Still, I swallowed hard and nodded to the other girl with a quiet, ¡°Thanks.¡±


    We sat there like that in relative silence for another hour while the doctors out in the main room did their work. There was a lot I wanted to say to the girl sitting beside me, but I couldn''t. Not here and not right now. So, we simply stayed quiet, as I took the opportunity to focus on the memories that had been pouring back into my head. I remembered everything now, my whole life with Anthony. How had I ever forgotten him? How could my parents have ripped his memory away from me? He had been my best friend in the world, as had Paige once she joined us. Maybe having two best friends sounded stupid to some people, but we didn''t care what they thought. The three of us were supposed to be inseparable. Then¡­ then my family had separated us. First my grandfather¡¯s men had killed Anthony and his family, then my parents¡¯ man had taken away the memory of both him and Paige.


    I had thought about that before, of course. Intellectually, I knew it happened. But somehow, it was even more poignant and devastating now that I had those memories back. I realized exactly what had been taken away from me, both by my grandfather and my parents. Yeah, my mom and dad had been trying to help me, misguided as they were. But still.


    That was why part of me had known I shouldn''t trust them with what I¡¯d found out, I realized while I was sitting there waiting to hear about Bobby. Some part of me, some buried, mostly subconscious part, had remembered seeing Kent Jackson looming over me to take my memories. I had been afraid that if they knew what I had discovered about them, that they would do the same thing again.


    And why wouldn''t they, after it had worked so well the first time?


    The bitter thought made me grimace to myself as I gave a little shudder. Which made Paige ask if I was okay, and I hesitated before shrugging. ¡°Honestly, I don''t know right now. It''s probably going to take a while before I figure it out.¡± Not only was it a lot for me to sort through, but I definitely didn''t want to get into it right here in the middle of this strange building. Yeah, these guys were helping Bobby, but that didn''t mean I wanted them to know all of our secrets. Especially not the big emotional ones.


    Paige clearly understood that too. Fortunately, we didn''t have to wait that much longer before one of the doctors came into the waiting room. She had blood all over her scrubs, which didn''t exactly fill me with confidence. But she offered a very faint, encouraging smile. ¡°Your¡­ friend is going to be okay. Give him another hour and he''ll be ready to talk. But it¡¯ll have to be a short visit, and he can''t go anywhere for a few days.¡±


    It wasn''t perfect, but hearing that he was going to be alright lifted an enormous weight off my shoulders. Well, one of the weights anyway. It wasn''t like I had a shortage of them.


    After waiting for another hour, we were escorted into the room again. Qwerty rode on my shoulder, with the activity magazine rolled up and held protectively against his chest. The doctor had already said he could keep it, and the little guy was acting like it was a cherished possession. Come to think of it, it might be his only possession after he had thrown that toy car at the guy back in the lot to stop him from shooting me.


    Bobby was awake, laying there looking pale and annoyed. He shifted in the bed as we approached, watching us. ¡°You need to get that thing back to Detroit.¡±


    My head shook reflexively. ¡°They said you can''t leave here for a few days.¡±


    ¡°I can''t, but you can.¡± His voice was firm and immediately made me want to do anything he said. It was his no-nonsense voice, the one he used back when he was my driver and wanted me to know that I couldn''t goof around anymore. He didn''t use it that often, only when things were very serious. And right now was the most serious I had ever heard him.


    ¡°There''s a lot of people in that city who are going to die if you don''t get the cure out of that son of a bitch,¡± he reminded us. ¡°Take it and go. And take this.¡± Holding out a slightly shaking hand, he passed me a card with a single phone number written on it. ¡°Call that number and tell them who you are. They¡¯ll help with anything you need. Just get the cure. You¡­ you can do that.¡±


    He still didn''t know who I really was, I realized in that moment. I knew him, I had all my memories back. I remembered spending hours and hours in the car with Bobby. He was the one who had made me love driving so much. But he didn''t know me. He didn''t know who I was under this mask. He just thought I was a Biolem who looked like the girl he used to take care of.


    So, we walked out. As we reached the van, Paige put one hand in her pocket before coming out with that little toy car. She held it out between two fingers as Qwerty gasped in delight and jumped to grab it before gliding through the open door.


    While he was busy introducing his toy car to his activity magazine, Paige looked to me. ¡°You remember all of it.¡±


    ¡°Everything,¡± I confirmed, meeting her gaze. ¡°You said those things about¡­ about all that stuff because you were trying to remind me. You wanted me to remember how I felt.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell you the truth,¡± she put in quickly. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do anything that would give me away. But I thought¡­ I thought maybe I could help you and fulfill my programming by making you think about that stuff. I thought if I pushed hard enough, I could¡­¡±


    ¡°Crack the egg?¡± I replied with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Or recrack it. I don¡¯t--yeah. I know why you did it.¡± My voice was still a bit strained though. It was a rough memory. Or a bunch of rough memories.


    There was a brief pause before she hesitantly asked, ¡°Do you want me to... uh, call you anything different?¡±


    It was my turn to pause, even longer than she had. Finally, I shrugged. ¡°I dunno. It¡¯s all¡­¡± A heavy sigh escaped me. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I am, exactly. Not yet. All I know is I don¡¯t fit in a neat little box.


    ¡°But I guess that¡¯s okay. I always did like to color outside the lines.¡±

 Together And Alone 27-17

    I really didn''t like the idea of leaving Bobby in that place, no matter how helpful they were. But we didn''t have a choice. He was right, we had to get this machine back to Detroit and use it to find a cure. I had no idea if my parents¡¯ conditions, or that of Irelyn, Trivial, or anyone else who had been affected, would get worse. But waiting too long seemed like a bad idea. We had to take care of this and let the doctors take care of Bobby.


    So, we went back to the van. I changed its color once again, turning it into a dark orange with an intricate plumbing advertisement on either side. One bonus of the mercenary hospital being set up in a fake auto shop was that they were able to replace the side mirror, so that wouldn¡¯t give us away either. Then Paige took the driver seat while I dropped into the spot beside her with Qwerty on my lap. We exchanged glances before the other girl pulled the van out of the lot and headed back to the freeway. ¡°They''ll take care of him,¡± she assured me. ¡°They know what they''re doing. They''ve seen a lot worse than that.¡±


    Some part of me wanted to ask if she was convincing me or herself, but I fought down that instinct. Instead, I nodded. ¡°You''ve got their number, right? So we can check in?¡±


    She confirmed that she did and promised we would call and see how he was doing every few hours. And with that, there was nothing left to do but sit back and wish this van could go faster. Well, it could. Especially if I was driving. But given we were trying not to attract attention, that was probably a bad idea. Not that that stopped me from rocking back-and-forth in my seat a little, silently urging Detroit to get here faster.


    Qwerty helped distract me, holding up the activity magazine he had drawn in to proudly show me what he''d done so far. I lost myself in that for a while, going over the book with him. He really was amazing. Maybe I took the fact that there were intelligent animals like Lucent and Lion out there for granted, but seriously, seeing the way Qwerty colored in shapes, connected dots, and even solved word puzzles was pretty damn incredible. Maybe it was just because he seemed so brand new to all this and more like a child or teenager that made the whole thing more real to me. I was seeing all this through his eyes in a way. It was obvious that he hadn''t Touched very long ago. Which reminded me¡­


    ¡°Hey,¡± I spoke up after we tried the memory picture game in the back of the book, ¡°Do you think you could tell us a little more about yourself? I mean, how you turned into what you are now. You were a parrot and a squirrel out in the wild and you just saw one of those orbs?¡± Hopefully this wasn''t pushing too much and there wasn''t some painful memory that he was trying to avoid. But I really did want to know more about our new little friend. And from the way Paige glanced over out of the corner of her eyes, it was obvious that she did too.


    Thankfully, Qwerty didn''t seem too bothered by the question. In fact, he was clearly excited to explain. Setting the book down, he turned on my lap and looked back and forth between both of us. ¡°Well, there were two of me before. The parrot me and the squirrel me. The parrot-me lived with this old man for a long time. I''m not exactly sure how long, but there were a lot of different seasons, and he got old. The man, I mean. One day he didn''t come back and there was this lady who fed the parrot-me. But she left the door open and I flew out. I was looking for food because the man or lady always brought it to me before. I didn''t know how to find it myself, and I was really hungry.¡±


    His head tilted to the other side as he continued. ¡°The squirrel-me knew how to find food. I scavenged all the time and brought the nuts and berries back to my nest. I was hiding them in this little hollow in a tree. But then the parrot-me found it and started taking food from the squirrel-me. We fought about it. The squirrel-me had to protect my food and the parrot-me was really hungry. So we fought really hard about it. I think we would have killed each other. Or I would''ve killed myself? One self would have killed the other self?¡± He shook off that confusion and continued. ¡°One of us would''ve died, but then the Orb showed up. I think it was watching us.¡± He said the last part in a whisper, as though it was a secret. ¡°Maybe it didn''t want us to fight anymore. It came right between us and we both thought it might be food. It was bright and shiny, like a great big berry. So we jumped on it. After that, we were both me. It was really scary at first, when I started thinking. I knew things, and that was weird. Especially when I had both of our memories. I remembered attacking myself, and fighting myself. I remembered being hungry and trying to take food out of the hole in the tree, and I remembered the big colorful bird taking the food I¡¯d hidden in the tree. I remembered all of it, both sides at once. It was really confusing.¡±


    Grimacing at the thought of how I would feel if I was only merged with a completely different person, let alone a different species, and had all their memories alongside my own, I nodded. ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a lot to take in. Two different sets of memories and personalities, and you suddenly had human level intelligence? Sounds scary. But does all that happen at once? I mean, is it like someone snaps their fingers and you can suddenly do math and think in perfect English? Or does it come in a little slower?¡± There had been numerous studies about TONIs, of course. Dozens of them had been interviewed about the full process of becoming what they were. Several of those books have been written by the TONIs themselves. But I hadn''t paid that much attention. And this was a chance to get information right from the source of one who seemed really new to all this, so it was fresh in his mind.


    Qwerty bounced back and forth from one of my legs to the other excitedly as he explained. ¡°Some of it came like the finger snapped and some of it took longer. I could think really quickly. I knew what humans were, what I was, how that happened to me, Basic stuff like that. The longer I thought, the more things I could think. It was like remembering things I never knew, you know? I remembered a bunch of stuff about history, and colors, and shapes, cars, airplanes, pencils, ATMs, restaurants, every time I thought about something, something else popped into my head. When I looked at things, I knew what they were. It was like all that knowledge was dumped in my head and it just needed a trigger to make it come out. I tried to tell the Orb thank you, but it was gone already.¡±


    He went on to explain about how he had gone exploring with his newfound sapience and found his way into a dumpster where that old computer was lying. Seeing the keyboard with the letters printed on it had been what showed him that he understood the alphabet. One by one, he had read those first few letter keys out loud and decided that would be his name. Because seeing letters and recognizing them had told him he needed one. The parrot version of himself had had a name, one which he politely declined to reveal, referring to it as his not-now-name. He needed a new one for his new self. So he chose those first letters he managed to read. He was Qwerty. It was probably good he hadn''t started reading from the bottom row, because I wasn''t sure I''d even know how to pronounce Zxcvbn. And even if I did, it might end up summoning Cthulhu.


    According to the little squirrel-parrot, all this had happened, as best as he could estimate, about two weeks earlier. He spent those days exploring and absorbing all the knowledge that had been dumped into his head. He didn''t know who to trust or how to go about introducing himself exactly, so he had been planning out what to do about that, watching people and learning about them while hiding in the trees. Honestly, I was pretty sure a large part of that whole delay in actually showing himself to people was that he kept getting distracted by things too. After all, it was a lot more fun to fling himself off the tallest building in town and glide all the way down than it was to try to find someone he could trust to talk to.


    Not that I knew anything about that sort of situation personally, of course. No sir, I never did anything like that, and I was positively offended by the insinuation. Harumph.


    Our similarities aside, I really did like talking to our new little friend. He helped distract me from all the other serious thoughts and memories I had. Which was a tall order at this point. But even that couldn''t last forever, and soon, I saw the poor guy yawning repeatedly. So, I tugged open the nearby jockey box in front of me, pushed a couple hand towels inside and arranged them like a bed, and he clambered in there to curl up and sleep for a while. Once he was out, I slumped back in my seat and exhaled. ¡°I guess he''s had a long day.¡±


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    Paige gave me a look. ¡°So have you. Maybe you should get some sleep too. It''s not like you can make Detroit get here any faster by being awake.¡±


    Oh, she really did know me. Pushing to spite myself, I offered a weak shrug. ¡°Maybe not, but I''m not sure I could sleep right now anyway. My brain probably won''t let me.¡±


    Paige hesitated before shifting a bit in the driver seat to stare at me briefly. ¡°You said you had all your memories back, right? Did you really mean all of them?¡±


    I nodded quickly. ¡°As far as I can tell, yeah. All that stuff that got erased came flooding back when I saw Bobby like that. I guess the whole similarity to what happened before, with him being shot in the back outside the vehicle, was enough to break through Kent¡¯s power. Maybe all the stuff I already knew helped it along. I kept getting all those headaches every time I thought about that stuff too much, and seeing Bobby like that was the last straw. I remember everything.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I reached out to touch her shoulder. ¡°I''m really sorry. I''m sorry I forgot about you when you needed me. I know I said it before, but now that I remember all that, I guess it''s kind of worse. I should''ve been there for you, with you.¡±


    ¡°It wasn''t your fault,¡± she insisted firmly, moving her hand from the wheel to touch mine. "I already told you, I knew you wouldn''t remember me. It was your parents, not you. Then my dad made it worse. And his thing wasn''t an accident like your parents. They didn''t know they were erasing me. They didn''t know anything about me. But my dad, his vendetta is worse. He wanted me to kill you, he made me kill you.¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± I did my best to sound lighthearted about it, but probably didn''t do a very good job. ¡°Only for a minute. Then you brought me back. His fault for not specifying.¡±


    Visibly shuddering at what would''ve happened if her dad had thought to tell her not to revive me, Paige put her hand back on the wheel and squeezed it tightly. ¡°Yeah well, he''s about to get what''s coming to him.¡±


    Yeah, she was obviously eager to get back to Detroit too. Still, as she said, wishing wouldn''t make the trip go any faster. Nor would worrying about Bobby help him get better. But I did know how to distract us so we wouldn''t obsess over all that so much. Namely, I started talking to her about the things I suddenly remembered. We talked about how we''d met, some of the games we used to play, the silly things Anthony did, and more. It made me cry a little bit, but it was a good sort of cry. It was a sort of cry I should''ve gone through years earlier, the sort that would''ve helped me move on past Anthony''s death instead of letting it fester in my subconscious for so long.


    We talked about fun stuff, silly stuff, scary stuff, and even sad stuff. We talked about everything. We cried together, laughed together, and just remembered the friend we had lost. It was a very late, somewhat awkward memorial we had right there between the two of us in the van, but I was pretty sure Anthony would have approved. Not that that would stop us from doing something bigger for him as soon as we have a chance, of course. Now that I remember everything about my old friend, I was damn sure going to do something big in his memory.


    Of course, there were other things we needed to talk about besides fond memories. Once it was obvious that was coming around, I looked down at the floor of the van for a few long, quiet minutes. The miles ticked by, but Paige didn¡¯t rush me. She waited until I was ready to say something. Finally, I found my voice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I am, exactly. I don¡¯t know what¡­ what to label it or even--I don¡¯t understand the¡­ feelings or how much of it is just normal. I don¡¯t know what normal is so I don¡¯t know what I am. I know girls can like boy things and vice versa, but at what point is liking a boy thing and thinking like a boy and feeling like a boy actually being a boy? Where¡¯s the--I don¡¯t know what the line is. There isn¡¯t a--there¡¯s nothing that says, ¡®here fill out this survey and we¡¯ll tell you exactly what percentage of girl and what percentage of boy you are.¡¯ There¡¯s not--it just--¡± I sighed heavily and slumped back in my seat, hands against my face. ¡°Gender is dumb and I wanna punch it in the face. Can I just be anti-gender? Is that a thing? I¡¯ll be gender¡¯s supervillain nemesis.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯d be the first one to feel that way,¡± Paige noted quietly. ¡°But first of all, you don¡¯t have to be in a rush to define yourself, Cassidy. There are people you can talk to, people who will keep everything anonymous. People outside the city. Chat rooms, phone calls, real support who can listen, or who you can listen to.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I managed before going for a joke as I looked at my own palms curiously. ¡°I guess the fact that I like to have one side of my hair cut short and the other long probably should¡¯ve given everybody a hint that I¡¯m not exactly straight forward as far as that goes. Including me. And¡­ and¡­¡± Again, I put my hands against my face. ¡°And this is a lot.¡±


    We talked for hours through all that, and had probably barely scratched the surface of things we needed to say. Not that it actually felt like that long. The next thing I knew, it was evening and my stomach was rumbling. Qwerty had woken up by then as well, and the three of us agreed that it was time to get some food. We checked in with the doctors back at that secret hospital place, and they assured us that Bobby was doing fine. Well, as close to fine as could be expected under the circumstances. He hadn''t gotten worse, at least. He was still sleeping, so we didn''t talk to him ourselves, but got the nurse we spoke with to promise to tell him we had called. Some part of me thought Bobby will probably find our concern a little strange. But then, he knew Paige, so maybe that would cover it. And, of course, he thought he knew about me too. He thought I was a Biolem made to look like me. Which was almost hilariously close to the truth. The man really was good at his job. Whatever that job actually was. I still wasn''t sure if he still worked full-time for my parents, if he had just done this on his own, or what. At some point I was going to have to sit down and ask him about all that. Something told me it was going to be a very important conversation.


    And speaking of important conversations, I had another one with Qwerty after we stopped for food and ate in the van. I had told him some about our whole situation before, of course. But now I told him everything. He was with us for the long-haul, so I had to trust the little guy. I told him the whole situation, all of it. which, obviously, was a lot to take in. He had a ton of questions, which I tried to answer as much as possible. About half of them were about the whole Ministry thing, and the other half was about all the different trips I had been on and things I¡¯d seen.


    He was especially interested in my trips to the race track. Something told me he wanted to drive one of those cars himself, which just made me picture some sort of car that had been put together in a way for him to control it. Maybe once Wren didn''t have so many other huge things to do, she could work on that. I had a feeling she¡¯d have a lot of fun with it. Actually, I was pretty sure she was going to love our new friend.


    That thought made me realize we should probably call and check in with the others. Paige, of course, was way ahead of me. Apparently she had been updating Sierra on the whole situation the entire time. And yes, the others were apparently super-eager to meet Qwerty. Not to mention eager for us to get back so we could finally take care of this whole horrible situation.


    Apparently Sierra was doing a decent job posing as me. That was what Izzy said when I called her, anyway. She assured me that my doppelg?nger wasn''t going around making everyone else think I was crazy. Well, not any more than I generally did that myself, anyway. Honestly, if I didn''t do anything crazy over those few days, I was pretty sure people would immediately realize I had been replaced. Still, at least I wasn''t going to go back to Detroit and suddenly find that my life had been upended any more than it already had been.


    At the moment, Izzy was apparently getting ready to go on patrol. She sounded tired, but insisted she was okay. I was about to ask her how much sleep she had gotten the night before when she abruptly told me to hang on for a second and muted the call.


    Paige, Qwerty, and I exchanged uncertain looks for a minute before the girl came back on the phone, sounding rushed. ¡°Sorry, I''ve gotta go help the others.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Paige abruptly sat up, cursing under her breath. It looked like she had just gotten a message from Sierra that she didn''t like. Which, combined with what Izzy was saying, made me blanch.


    ¡°What''s going on?¡± I asked both of them.


    ¡°It''s Pencil and the Scions,¡± Izzy replied immediately. ¡°They''re making their next move.


    ¡°And your team is right in the middle of it.¡±

 Interlude 27A - Peyton

    Peyton Favors was afraid. To be honest, she was afraid a lot these days, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise. The red-haired teen did her best to seem totally cool and at ease with everything that was going on. But, to be honest, thinking about it too much left her petrified. The idea that there was some grand criminal conspiracy where the richest family in the state was essentially controlling, or at least manipulating, the majority of both the heroes and villains? It was a lot to take in. And now she, simple, ordinary little Peyton, a girl who had been so stupid she got taken in by a gross pervert catfishing her on the Internet and was kidnapped, was one of the only people who knew the whole truth about that and wasn''t part of that group. And if this Ministry found out about the full extent of what she knew, they''d either try to force her to work for them or just kill her. And they probably wouldn¡¯t even feel that bad about it.


    That in and of itself would''ve been a lot. But it wasn''t the whole story, not by a long shot. There was also this whole Pittman thing. Paige and Sierra¡¯s father had engineered some super plague or whatever that put half the city''s Star-Touched and other important law-enforcement people out of commission. Worse, he¡¯d done so while the city''s gangs were already in a violent war with each other. Which didn''t exactly help that whole situation.


    So now the whole gang war was even worse. The people who could actually do anything to stop the violence and help people were spread incredibly thin. The leadership of those groups, both Touched and Prev, was largely down for the count. And, to make matters even more of a problem, the two people in charge of the Ministry, who could probably have clamped down on the war most effectively, were also down.


    The only real saving grace was that a lot of the Fell-Touched weren''t being too active just yet. Whether that was because people who were still running the Ministry were keeping them in line, because they were gearing up for something much bigger, or some combination, Peyton wasn''t sure. But either way, she didn''t expect it to last very long. And even without Fells, all the plain old ordinary bad guys out there were more than picking up the slack. It turned out you didn''t need to have super powers to commit terrible acts of violence.


    Oh yeah, and because all of that still wasn''t enough, Cassidy and Paige weren''t even here right now. They¡¯d had to leave the city completely to go track down that transportation machine so they could actually deal with the Pittman bastard and save all the people who had been affected by his stupid plague.


    So yeah, there was a very good reason for them not to be here right now, but that didn''t make it any easier to deal with. The city was completely falling apart, with gangs gradually taking over more and more territory and acting more brazenly with every passing hour, and those two were gone.


    Not that they were exactly having a nice relaxing vacation, of course. From the information that Sierra was passing along, those two had plenty of their own problems. Seriously, running into a whole army of Breakwater troops trying to take the machine for themselves? And they had that guy from the Ministry, the one who used to be Cassidy''s bodyguard or whatever. He was helping them, as was some sort of special hybrid TONI that everyone here wanted to meet. He sounded pretty great from what Paige had apparently said. Wren really wanted to get him a welcoming cake. Fred had suggested pecan pie.


    All of that would''ve been enough to keep those two busy. But now they were sitting in some sort of secret hospital place while doctors tried to save that bodyguard guy after he had been shot. Apparently he was going to pull through, but still, it was another problem for them to be stuck with, another thing to keep Cassidy and Paige away from the city for a little bit longer.


    The point was, it all added up. Peyton had been struggling a lot with the pressure of everything even before the plague bit happened. Now? Now she felt like she was going to be crushed under the responsibility. She and the rest of the team who were left in the city were running themselves ragged. They went on as many patrols as they could physically handle, listened to police scanners and intervened where they could, chased down muggers, helped rescue people from fires, pulled victims out of car accidents, even stopped the occasional full-on robbery. It seemed like there was a new call for help whenever they finished with the last one. Even when they split up and went out in pairs, it barely seemed to make a dent in everything that needed to be done. And they didn''t dare split up any more than that. For the very simple things, two of them were enough. But if it was a fight, or anything that might become more complicated, the four of them went out together. The whole team was already undermanned, and with everything going on out there, things could get really bad really quickly.


    Hell, things were already bad. And they seemed to be getting worse. Every time she sat down for a minute, every time she crawled into her bed, pulled the covers over her face, and slept, every time she sat at the table and had a nice meal with her mother, every time she did anything other than throw herself out there to fight the bad guys, the girl felt as though she was abandoning her responsibilities. Whenever she picked up her phone and looked at the reports of people who had been hurt or killed out there on the street while she was busy with other things, she asked herself if she could''ve saved them. If she had just slept for a half hour less, could she have been out on that particular street, and that neighborhood, at the right time to have stopped it from happening?


    It was an absurd guilt, of course. She couldn¡¯t be everywhere all the time. Peyton knew that, consciously. But it didn''t really help. She still felt like she had failed them. She felt like she had failed Cassidy. And as that guilt piled up, she felt more tired, which made her need to sleep more, which led to even more guilt. It was a vicious cycle.


    Oh, and speaking of cycles, hers had decided to sneak up during all this. So she had to deal with stupid cramps and blood that had nothing to do with all the fighting. Which just made everything so much better.


    The past few days while those two had been gone were essentially a blur of violence, fear, guilt, and lies. Peyton had told so many lies to her mother lately that it seemed like she never told the woman anything real. Which made her feel guilty for a whole new reason. But it wasn''t as though she could tell her mom the truth. If Peyton''s mother knew she was Alloy, let alone all that other stuff, she''d never let her out of the apartment again.


    So, she continued to lie. At least she had a good excuse for being out of the apartment. After all, she was a gainfully-employed part of the workforce at Wren¡¯s shop. Of course, her mother had tried to tell her she shouldn''t go to work with all this going on, but Peyton had convinced her that being at the shop was basically as safe as being at home. Their apartment wasn''t exactly in the very best part of town. Plus, her mother still had to work. So she could either stay home in the apartment by herself every moment she wasn''t in school, or be at the shop with other people and security measures. Not that her mother knew anything about what type of security measures there were, let alone that her own daughter was one of them. But still, it was enough to convince her that Peyton should keep going to work.


    All of which was why she was here at the shop with her head resting on one of the tables, not quite asleep, but not fully awake either. She was just catching her breath, or so she told herself. It was fine, she was just letting her mind wander a bit for a few moments. Any minute now, she would pick herself up and get out there again. There were people who needed help.


    A hand touching her shoulder made the girl jump halfway out of her seat. Her marbles flew out defensively, shaping themselves into a variety of melee weapons.


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    ¡°Sorry!¡± It was just Roald. The blonde boy jumped back with his hands up, flushing guiltily. ¡°I''m really sorry, I didn''t know you were asleep. I mean I wasn''t sure if you were, and¡­ sorry.¡±


    It was Peyton''s turn to look guilty. Quickly, she made her marbles shift back to their normal state, and tried to ignore the very obvious point that could''ve been made about losing her marbles. ¡°No, it''s okay. It''s alright, I wasn''t asleep. I mean I wasn''t trying to. I mean-- what¡¯s up?¡± Something had to be wrong. Something was always wrong these days.


    Roald sighed softly. ¡°We heard something on the scanner. A lady said there was a guy creeping around her house a few blocks away, and they don''t have anyone in the area who can check it out. Murphy and me were going to go see what''s going on, but Fred said we should take you and Sierra just in case it''s something worse than a prowler.¡±


    Fred was right, of course. Sure, it sounded like some creep just stalking that poor lady, but they couldn''t really take chances. Not with everything that was going on. Besides, Peyton had a special bone to pick with creepy stalkers. Namely, the giant club-shaped bone she made one of her marbles turn into so she could beat them senseless with it.


    So, before long, Peyton, Sierra, Murphy, and Roald were leaving the shop through the back door. The four of them were already in costume. Which, in Peyton¡¯s case, was pretty simple to do.


    Some might have wondered why she didn''t use a normal costume instead of using up two of her marbles for it. But having her marbles create armor for her had its own benefits. They helped her punch harder, lift heavier things, could pick her up in the air and move her in a way that simulated flight to a certain extent, and they were tough enough to take some pretty strong hits. Oh, and using her marbles for armor meant that poor Wren didn''t have to work even harder to make her something. The kid was busy with enough stuff as it was. So, Peyton assured her that she was just fine with what she had.


    ¡°Oh, right, Paintball and Poise are on the road again,¡± Sierra informed them as they moved through the alley. ¡°It''s still gonna take a long time for them to get here, but at least they''re coming. So let''s try not to let the whole city fall apart before they show up, okay? I really don''t want to see Paige¡¯s judging look if she gets here and the whole place is on fire.¡±


    She was kidding, sort of. Peyton knew that, and yet she couldn''t help the shudder that ran through her. Not really at the idea of Paige judging them for failing, but at the reminder of just how bad things could potentially get. From what they''d heard on the scanner, a few of the Fell-Touched had started to make a move or two, testing the waters. Testing how much the Star-Touched could respond. When they started making hard pushes¡­ Yeah, things were going to get bad.


    They couldn''t worry about that right now. At the moment, they had a creepy stalker to chase off. Please, please let it be nothing more than a creepy stalker. Between the four of them, they could definitely handle that. And Peyton could use an easy win after the past few days of running all over the city practically every waking moment.


    Honestly, she was pretty sure that was one of the big reasons Fred had insisted they go out together. Yes, it was probably safer this way just in case. With everything that was going on, you never knew. But she felt like he also wanted them to get a quick, easy win in dealing with some guy poking around a garage and peeking in windows.


    The house in question was only a few blocks away, so Peyton created a flying glider out of three of her remaining four marbles, and carried everyone that way. She kept them high enough that it would be hard to spot them coming, especially if whoever was down there was focused on scaring the woman in the house.


    Unfortunately, they didn''t see anybody on the first pass. They had to double check that it was the right place, because it was all dark down there. The lights were off. Honestly, it felt a little creepy, but maybe that was just a product of the general situation. The house was a large Victorian-style place with an enormous yard and fences meant to maintain privacy from the neighbors. It was set at the edge of a dead-end street, with the backyard overlooking a steep concrete drop into a water canal.


    Yeah, no wonder the woman who lived there felt creeped out by the idea of someone sneaking around outside. The place was pretty isolated from the other houses between the distance of the yard and the tall fences. Or between that and the fact that the police were all tied up with other things going on throughout the city, it wouldn''t be hard for some random bad guy with evil intentions to turn the place into hell on Earth for that poor woman.


    But still, something seemed weird about it. If Peyton was in that situation, she would''ve turned every light in the house on, and the porch lights. She would''ve been holding a bat, or any other weapon she could get her hands on, and doing everything she could to let the man outside know that she sure as hell wasn''t going to be an easy target. The last thing she would do was turn off all the lights and sit in the dark waiting for him to sneak in.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Murphy murmured as the four of them perched on the edge of the glider. ¡°Are we too late? Did¡­. did he already--¡±


    ¡°Let''s get down there,¡± Peyton quickly put in. No, Alloy, she reminded herself. She had to be Alloy right now. Peyton was a silly little mommy¡¯s girl who got herself kidnapped by dumb perverts and turned her mother into a paranoid wreck. Alloy was a superhero.


    So, they glided down. To be on the safe side, Style and Hobbes jumped down into the backyard and turned on the flashlights from their phones to take a look around. Not that Style actually needed to, from what Alloy and the others understood. But she said she liked to keep people guessing about her capabilities. If some bad guy out there thought she couldn''t see without her flashlight, they might make a mistake.


    Meanwhile, Alloy and Calvin flew around the front and went up to check the door. That creepy feeling she had was getting worse. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up under her armor. Some part of the girl wanted to take off and get out of this place right now. But if she did that and then found out that the woman who lived here had been hurt or killed, she¡¯d never forgive herself. No matter how scary this was, no matter how many chills it sent down her spine, she was going to deal with it.


    With that thought firmly in mind, the girl exchanged a glance with Calvin, both of them using their own cell phone lights to illuminate one another. With a pair of firm nods, they walked up over the steps and the front door. Only then did the two of them see that it was open. Not much, only a crack, but still. The fact that the door was sitting open made that bad feeling even worse.


    All four were in a group call, connected through Bluetooth earpieces so they could talk with each other. While Calvin reported the bit about the door being open, Alloy took the lead. One of her marbles turned into a sword and hovered in front of her, while the other three turned into a variety of shields. She gave the door a little push with two fingers to open it the rest of the way, holding up her cell phone light to see what was inside. After a brief thought, she called out using the name they''d heard over the scanner. ¡°Rebecca Lanning?! Are you okay? We''re here to help!¡±


    Very slowly, she stepped into the large, pitch black front room. Calvin was right behind her, and she could hear Style and Hobbes saying something about going in the back door.


    A sudden rush of movement from the side made her spin that way, catching a quick glimpse of a dark kitchen before a shape loomed in front of her. She reflexively yelped and fell backwards against the nearby table, knocking a framed photograph onto the floor.


    ¡°Oh thank you!¡± Suddenly, the living room light came on, and Alloy saw a tall, bespectacled woman with large frizzy hair and panicked eyes. She wore a fuzzy bathrobe over her pajamas and was holding a baseball bat in one hand and a phone in the other. ¡°You''re really here, you really came. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I didn''t think anyone would come. It''s my ex-boyfriend. He won''t leave me alone. He keeps sneaking around banging on the windows and trying to make me take him back. I think he''s really lost at this time.¡±


    Alloy started to say something else, but her phone rang on a separate call. She looked down to see that it was her mother, and blanched. It might be bad timing, but if she didn''t answer, her mother would send out the cavalry.


    Quickly promising that they were going to help this poor lady, she stepped aside and lowered her voice while answering. ¡°Hey Mom, kind of busy right now, but I''ll be home soon.¡±


    ¡°No, no don''t,¡± her mother''s voice came back in a whisper. She sounded more terrified than Peyton had ever heard her. ¡°Don''t come home. I love you baby. Just know that. I love you so much.


    ¡°The Scions are here, and I''m pretty sure they''re going to kill everyone in the building.¡±

 Interlude 27B - Rubi

    Rubi Nilsen was worried about her little brother, Roald. Actually, she was worried about herself and their little sister too. Not to mention Murphy, since the girl was living with them after the death of her brother. Yes, with their parents stuck in prison, the nineteen-year-old was in charge of two younger teenagers and a girl who was still in elementary school. Which wasn''t exactly the easiest thing in the world. She made it work as well as she could, doing her night job housekeeping for a law firm that she hoped to one day actually be a real part of, before making sure the others made it to school in the morning so she could sleep for a few hours.


    The point was, she had plenty of reason to be anxious. But her worry for both Roald and Murphy went beyond that. She was afraid of the money they were bringing back. Yes, they had those jobs in a little pawnshop or whatever it was, but that didn''t seem to account for them being able to help provide as much as they did. That little shop should give them some pocket change, not allow them to actually help pay the rent and all that. Rubi had taken a walk through the shop at one point, and she couldn''t understand how they could afford to pay several employees plus their own overhead, on what appeared to be a junk shop.


    So, she had started to look into that further, in the very little free time she could set aside. She saw a lot of deliveries coming and going from the place. And she also saw Murphy and Roald come and go at very strange intervals.


    Drugs. She was afraid those two had gotten into delivering drugs, just like their parents. It was a thought that made her want to scream and shake both of them, considering that was exactly why said parents were locked up. Yes, they clearly thought they were helping, they had seen how wiped and lost Rubi was. But running drugs wasn''t the answer. Crime wasn''t the answer. She had to find a way to talk to them about it in a way that wouldn''t drive them off, a way to get them to come clean so they could sort all of it out. But she was afraid that anything she said would come off wrong. Not to mention the worry that she might just start choking both of them over being stupid enough to get involved in that sort of thing to begin with. Not that she didn''t understand and appreciate that they wanted to help, but¡­


    She had to find a way to talk to them about it. But, for the moment, she was still sorting it all out in her head. Plus, she didn''t want to talk about it until she knew some more details. And part of finding out those details was talking to their coworkers at the shop. If the place really was a front for some sort of drug operation, maybe one of them would know something.


    So far, the only one she''d managed to track down an address for was the red-haired girl her brother and Murphy worked with. She had followed the girl home one night, trying to work up the nerve to talk to her and fill out what she knew or if she''d be willing to say anything. But she¡¯d never managed to find the right words, or the courage to speak up.


    Still, it did mean that she knew where the girl lived. Now, with all the rising gang violence, Rubi was terrified that her brother and Murphy were going to be pulled into that. And she didn''t think the girl she had followed should be involved in it either.


    No, she had to have the first of several hard discussions. Which meant that she needed to see if that girl would tell her anything. She didn''t want to narc to the girl''s parents, so she¡¯d just have to make up an excuse about why she wanted to talk to her.


    Rubi was still working on the details of that in her head while she walked into the apartment building and headed up the stairs. It was her day off, and Emilee was playing at her friend''s place, so she had some time right now. Time to try to get to the bottom of all this, without ruining her relationship with her brother and the girl who was like another sister to her. That was the hardest part of all this. She really thought they were trying to help, and she couldn''t blame them for wanting some actual money after everything they¡¯d been through. Maybe Murphy even thought that playing gofers carrying the stuff around the city was safe compared to getting hooked on it like her brother had been. But still, whatever was going on, it had to stop.


    Climbing the stairs while rehearsing what she might say to the girl she had seen working with those two, Rubi almost missed the sound of someone walking up the stairs behind her. They were clearly doing their best to be quiet. But after spending so many years living in a part of town that wasn''t exactly crime-free (or even crime-light when you got down to it) while being an attractive young blonde woman, her sense of danger when someone was following behind her was finely tuned.


    Immediately turning off the stairs to enter the next floor even though it wasn''t the one she wanted, Rubi used the motion of going through the doorway to cover the fact that she had reached into her pocket to find the mace that she kept there. She had it out and cupped the canister in her palm as she turned to catch the door with her other hand. Ostensibly, she did so to hold it open in case the person behind her was also coming through. But it also gave her control of the door so she could use it as a barrier between them if need be.


    At the sight of the person who had been following her, Rubi¡¯s breath caught in her throat. It was an anthropomorphic porcupine, a man who stood about five feet, eight inches tall, with soft gray-black fur, a blatantly rodent-like face, and long dagger-like quills extending from his back. Some might have mistaken him for some sort of TONI with growth powers. But Rubi knew better. Everyone who knew anything about the Scions knew better, especially these days.


    This was Fork, one of those psychopaths. And he was right behind her, raising a hand as she met his gaze. His mouth opened, probably to taunt her.


    But whatever he intended to do or say, Rubi didn''t give him the chance. She slammed the door almost all the way shut save for a crack, then pointed the canister of mace through that crack before hitting the button. The Touched man¡¯s words turned into an outraged squeal as his face was completely engulfed in the chemical spray.


    Without wasting a second, Rubi slammed the door shut the rest of the way and spun around quickly. Seeing nothing in this empty hallway, she yanked the belt out of her own pants, tied it around the doorknob, and then hooked it around the nearby metal banister. Even as she turned and started to sprint down the hall, she could hear the porcupine-man screaming louder as he slammed into the locked door. Apparently he really didn''t appreciate being sprayed in the face with mace. Which was fair, considering Rubi was pretty sure she wouldn¡¯t appreciate anything Fork had in mind for her. Especially not now.


    As she ran down the hallway, Rubi pounded on every door she could reach, alternating sides while continuing to race as quickly as she could. She raised her voice to scream at the top of her lungs that the Scions were there. Which was bound to ensure that no one opened their doors for her, but she was more concerned with making certain nobody was taken by surprise.


    Was it just Fork? Or was it the whole group? Please just be him. If their psychotic piece of shit leader was here¡­ But why would he be? What could they possibly want in this place? Ruby had no idea, and she really didn¡¯t want to find out. She was going to run screaming to the end of the hall, then use the window there to get out onto the fire escape. All thought of investigating what Murphy and Roald were up to had completely fled her mind at that moment. The only thing that mattered was survival.


    Unfortunately, it wasn''t going to be that easy. Even as Rubi neared the end of the hall and saw the window looming in front of her, with Fork still bellowing inarticulately as he slammed against the belted-shut door at the other end, the door leading into one of the apartments ahead opened. She was about to shout for whoever it was to get back inside, but the person who emerged wasn''t a potential helpless victim. It was Pencil himself, complete with the sack cloth mask. Seeing him turn her way, Rubi felt renewed terror slam into her chest. It made it harder to breathe. Running into Fork had been bad enough, but seeing Pencil looming in front of her made the young woman certain that she was going to die horrifically.


    But like hell was she just going to cower in a corner, lay down, and let it happen. If she was going to be murdered, Rubi was damn sure going to do everything in her power to make the man in front of her fucking earn it. To that end, rather than slow down or stumble, she poured on every ounce of speed she could. She wasn''t exactly a particularly tall or muscular girl, though she had at least become a little stronger by carrying all those garbage cans and cleaning supplies all over the law office. But no matter how unimpressive her physical stature, she had a ton of adrenaline on her side as she slammed full tilt into the masked man.


    It seemed like he had expected her to stop or something, because he let out a surprised gasp as she crashed into him. The man fell backwards against the nearby wall with a satisfying thud, not that she was under any illusions that he would be in the least bit hurt. Nor did she pay any attention. While he was still reacting to being knocked down, she heard the door at the opposite end finally slam open as her belt broke under Fork¡¯s repeated attacks. And before either of the psychopaths could do anything else, Ruby lunged through the window ahead of her. Someone had been smoking there earlier, their discarded cigarette butts still sitting on the windowsill. She could''ve kissed whoever that person was, no matter what their breath smelled like, because it meant the window was open for her to pass through it.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    In the next instant, Rubi was on the fire escape and began scrambling her way down it. She could hear Fork shout something, but she was too far away to actually make out the words. Not that it mattered. Nothing he had to say would make her stop or even slow down. Unlike Cup, his words wouldn¡¯t distract her.


    What was a distraction, unfortunately, was the sudden appearance of a monster at the bottom of the fire escape. It was a dog, but not just any old canine. This was obviously the Scion TONI known as Shovel, considering that as soon as she saw him, the dog made his head grow to several times its normal size and opened his terrible jaws to snarl at her. It looked like his mouth was big enough for her to fall right into. For all she knew, that was exactly what he was hoping for, that she would lose her grip in a panic and plummet down to become a snack for him. She didn''t know for certain that he ate people, but she honestly wouldn''t put it past him. To be honest, she wouldn''t really put it past any of the Scions.


    With Shovel waiting directly beneath her, and a very pissed off Pencil and Fork above, Rubi felt a wave of complete despair wash over her. She was going to die. She was going to be broken, tortured, and finally killed. She had done everything she could to escape, but it wasn''t going to be enough.


    No, no, she still had a chance. She had to have a chance. If one didn''t present itself, she would create it, goddamnit. The dumpster behind Shovel. If she leapt as far as she could off the edge of the fire escape where she was, she might be able to land on top of it. That might give her the chance to roll off, hit the ground, and keep running before the monster dog could react. It wasn''t much of a plan, and there was a good chance she would break several bones in the process. But given the choice between that and allowing the Scions to do whatever they wanted with her, Rubi immediately knew which one she would go with.


    Without a second thought or even an instant of hesitation once the idea came to her mind, the dark-blonde girl instantly scrambled over the edge of the railing and hurled herself out as far as she could. She actually crashed into the far wall, feeling a jolt of pain as her shoulder collided with the brick before she dropped. There was another sudden sensation of sharp pain as she slammed down onto the top of the dumpster. It was full, thankfully, so she didn''t go right down through the lid. Even better, she was pretty sure nothing inside herself broke, though she had definitely gotten some deep bruises.


    None of that mattered, however. She just had to get out of this place and away from the giant teeth of the evil dog behind her. Rubi could already hear the monster scrambling around with a snarl, even as she rolled off the dumpster and fell the rest of the way to the ground.


    It was there, as she hit her knees against the pavement on the side of the dumpster, with the realization that Shovel was already blocking her escape, that she saw it. Hovering there right in the corner, partially hidden by one of the dumpster wheels, was a small, glowing orb.


    Immediately, every other thought left the girl¡¯s mind. She stared that way, dazed and distracted. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the rest of the world somehow cut off and unimportant. Her hand rose and extended, fingers brushing over the orb. She heard the woman''s voice, those two Latin words. ¡°Summus Proelium.¡±


    Just like that, Ruby was elsewhere. She was standing in a void, gray ground all around her, along with a thick fog. In that fog, she saw her family, her brother and sister, as well as Murphy. She saw all of their parents as well. She saw herself working at the law office, staring longingly at the busy, important attorneys going about doing the job she wanted so badly to get into for herself.


    It seemed as though no sooner had it started than her trip to the other world was over. She was back in that alley next to the dumpster on her knees, pain from that fall coursing through her body still. Shovel had turned around and was already lunging at her.


    In a blind panic, Rubi grabbed the edge of the dumpster as though to yank it between herself and the evil dog with her back still to him. It was impossible, of course. And yet, as she grabbed it, something even more impossible happened. Everything froze. The whole world around her was completely motionless. Rubi only realized that as she fell sideways and saw Shovel frozen in mid-lunge. His feet were off the ground, mouth open as he came at her from behind.


    Abruptly, she was kneeling back where she had been an instant earlier. It was as though she had been snapped back into position like a rubber band. Which was very disorienting.


    Only then did Rubi notice something else. Her body looked semi-translucent, like a ghost. As did the dumpster. Everything else looked completely solid, though still frozen. She could even look up and see Pencil, motionless while in the process of climbing through the window she had emerged from. Fork loomed behind him, equally frozen.


    So, Rubi and the dumpster were like ghosts in this frozen world. And every time she turned away from it or moved in anyway, she was snapped back to the same position.


    With her hand on the dumpster, she reflexively pulled at it. Nothing happened. It was too heavy, even though it looked completely intangible. But again, her position reset. She was kneeling with her hand on it once more. And once more, she pulled at it.


    Still nothing. And her position reset yet again. Rubi had absolutely no idea why she was doing this, what compelled her. But she pulled in the dumpster again, and that time, she felt it budge just a tiny bit. Again, she reset. And again, she pulled at the dumpster, which actually slid an inch or two that time. But when she was reset, so was it.


    She continued that cycle ten times, then twenty, then thirty. Every time, the dumpster moved a little more. And every time, she and it reset a moment later. It was as though every time she interacted with the dumpster, it retained that amount of effort for the next attempt. It wasn''t just her trying to move it, it was every past iteration of the previous thirty-plus versions of herself. Every single time she reset and tried again, it was with the combined effort of all of her past-selves. After several dozen times, she was able to pull the dumpster as though it weighed almost nothing, and swing it sideways through Shovel. It was still intangible, so it didn''t actually do anything to the dog Scion.


    At least, it didn''t do anything until Rubi felt a moment of satisfaction. She felt as though she had completed her objective. Instantly, the world was unfrozen. She was back on her knees next to the dumpster once more, her hand on it. Before she grasped what was happening, she had already spun around, hoisted the physical dumpster off the ground, and slammed it into Shovel with the force of a professional baseball player swinging a bat. He was sent crashing head over tail along the alley with a shocked and pained series of yelps.


    Pencil was moving again too, lifting what looked like a gun from his position on the fire escape before taking aim. Rubi panicked once more, and suddenly she was back in that frozen world. Except this time, she was the only thing that looked like a ghost. The dumpster, lying on its side where she tossed it, was just as frozen as everything else. Was it because she had been touching the dumpster when she used this power the first time? She couldn''t move very far from her initial position when she used it, and was always snapped back to where she was. Then, when she somehow triggered things to go back to normal, all the effort she had expended during the frozen time came out at once in a single physical action.


    Wait, wait, if whatever this power was allowed her to essentially enact the physical strength of dozens of versions of herself all acting over and over again, maybe¡­


    Rubi braced herself, stiffening her body as much as she could. A second later, she was back to the position she had been in when time froze. Again, she braced herself. She did that again and again and again, more than fifty times. Then sixty. It went on and on in this frozen world, but she was too terrified about what could happen if she didn''t do it enough.


    Finally, when it felt like she couldn¡¯t hold herself in this position and keep the power going any longer, Rubi relaxed her grip on it. The world slammed back into motion, and her body stiffened just as Pencil fired that gun. She felt a very faint pain in her chest, as though someone had thrown a small rock at it. The damage of the bullet had been stopped by what amounted to over sixty versions of herself all bracing themselves. She didn''t have the durability of just her own body, she had the durability of five dozen of herselves.


    Pencil seemed surprised when his bullet did nothing, and dropped to the ground right in front of her, landing smoothly. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t this int--¡±


    He couldn¡¯t be hurt. It was impossible. But in her moment of blind terror, faced with the sackcloth-masked man, Rubi wasn¡¯t thinking about that. She dove for the safety of her power, instinctively freezing everything. She saw him right there, eyes so smug and confident as he stared at her. And in that moment, Rubi could only think of one thing.


    She wanted to wipe that smug look right out of his eyes.


    Rearing back her fist, she swung hard. Her fist passed through his head in that frozen state. Her body reset, and she swung again. Reset, swing. Reset, swing, reset, swing. She had done it sixty times when facing that gun, and that had felt like a stretch. This time, she strained even harder, repeating the same motion seventy times, then seventy five, even eighty. Over a full minute passed like that, and she was starting to hear a painful whistle in the back of her mind. She was getting dizzy. It couldn¡¯t go on, she couldn¡¯t keep this going.


    Finally, it was too much. Rubi lost hold of her power, and the world snapped back into motion. Her fist rose, reared back, she saw Pencil¡¯s eyes light up with obvious amusement at her silly attempt to harm him.


    And then her fist collided with his face, knocking the man to the ground with a hastily-blurted curse. Blood, there was blood on the ground. Blood from him. She saw blood and a tooth, both lying there. She had punched him so hard she knocked one of his teeth out and put him on the ground.


    She hurt him. She fucking hurt him.


    Between Pencil, Rubi, Fork up in the window, or Shovel, who was still trying to pick himself up after being smacked across the alley, it was hard to say which of them was more shocked in that moment. But one thing was certain, Pencil was about to be indescribably pissed off. He wouldn¡¯t let that stand. He couldn¡¯t let it stand. No, he would do absolutely anything it took to kill her.


    Before he could recover enough to try, Rubi was already pivoting on her feet and running out of the alley. She sprinted like her life depended on it, because it very much did. She ran as hard and as fast as she could.


    And she didn''t stop running for a very long time.

 Interlude 27C - Murphy

    ¡°Alloy, stop!¡± Feet pounding across the roof of the building, Murphy took a literal flying leap, flinging herself into Peyton¡¯s back before the armor-clad girl could finish lifting off on her board. She had just dropped Murphy, Sierra, and Roald off on the building across the street from her own family''s apartment, said something about getting those bastards, and started to leave.


    Murphy knew from her own experience dealing with someone who had actually murdered her brother that trying to talk calmly to Peyton when her mother was in danger wouldn''t get them anywhere. Hence the flying tackle. She crashed into the other girl, taking herself and Peyton down to the ground. Or to the roof, rather.


    As they crashed down, Peyton used one of her marbles, turning it into a large hand that pushed Murphy off of her before scrambling backward. ¡°Stop it! Leave me alone, I''ve gotta save my mom!¡±


    ¡°We will!¡± That was Roald, moving next to Murphy as she picked herself up. He had both of his hands up. ¡°We''re gonna get them out of there. But this is the Scions, we can''t just go running in that place. It''s kind of way over our heads. This isn''t some random mugging or robbery, and we don''t have Paintball or Poise. We don¡¯t have--we¡¯re not¡­ We--we¡¯ll all die, Peyton. You¡¯ll die.¡±


    ¡°My mom will die!¡± Peyton snapped right back at him. Her board was already floating up and off the ground, coming back over to her as she prepared to step on it. ¡°You guys don''t have to go in there with me. It¡¯s too dangerous, I know. That''s why I dropped you off here. But it''s my mom in there, and I have powers. I have to get in there and save her! You know what those psychos are like, you know what they do to the people that they--that they¡¯re playing with!¡± She was practically hysterical by that point, stepping onto the board before starting to turn. The thought of what every second could be costing her mother drove her into a nearly blind panic.


    ¡°Alloy.¡± That was Sierra, grabbing Peyton by the arm as she stepped in quickly from the other side. ¡°Listen to us. We''re gonna help. We¡¯ll get your mom and everyone else we can out of that place. But Calvin¡¯s right. We can''t just go rushing in there. If you go in all by yourself, they''ll catch you. If they figure out who you went in there to save, they¡¯ll know how to hurt you the most. We need help. Do you think that¡¯s easy for me to say? Because believe me, it''s not. One of the last things I wanna do is admit I need anyone else. But if we want to get through this without fucking the whole thing up, and getting your mom and a bunch of other people killed, then we need reinforcements. And we need a plan. We¡¯re working on both of them. Just¡­ just hold on.¡±


    ¡°The Scions won''t just start killing people.¡± Murphy tried to reassure her friend. Her voice shook a bit and she felt a rush of bile right through her throat at her own words. She knew exactly what it was like to lose someone to a vicious murder. Not to one of the Scions, of course. But she still knew all about the feeling of helpless rage and terror. And that had been when it all happened at once right in front of her. How would she have felt if there had been a chance she could run into the path of the bullets to save her brother, and her friends were trying to talk her out of it?


    Helmet shifting out of the way so they could see her face, Peyton stared at them with wide, terrified eyes. Her red hair was sweaty and matted, giving her a slightly crazed appearance. ¡°Please, please.¡± Her voice trembled as she clenched her hands, the marbles floating agitatedly around her head. ¡°Help me save my mom. Please help me save my mom.¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± Sierra assured her. Then she motioned for them to move away from the edge of the roof and back toward the middle of the building. ¡°Now let''s get the hell out of sight and talk about exactly how we''re going to do that.


    ¡°And what kind of help we can pull in.¡±


    *******


    ¡°When your friends said you wanted to hire me to be available for a job, this wasn''t exactly what I had in mind.¡± As she said those words, Cavalcade looked at the assembled quartet who stood a few feet away on the same roof as earlier. The Sell-Touched woman gestured with one hand. ¡°And while we''re on the subject, if this is so important, where are they, exactly? Seems to me going up against someone like Pencil and the rest of his Scion freaks would be an all hands on deck sort of situation.¡±


    Style spoke for the rest of them. ¡°They¡¯d be here if they could, trust me. They''ve got an emergency of their own right now and it''s impossible to get away.¡±


    Cavalcade seemed to consider that for a moment, weighing the answer in her mind before giving a soft grunt. Then she held her hand out expectantly. She didn''t say anything. There was no need to. The unspoken demand was clear enough in the gesture.


    As Style passed her an envelope with cash, Murphy shook her head in disgust. ¡°You can''t just do the right thing and use your power to save those people without getting a bunch of money for it, huh?¡± If she had that woman''s power, if she could do the sort of things Cavalcade was capable of¡­ well, things would be different, that was for sure.


    The woman didn''t even spare a glance for her, simply replying, ¡°We''ve all got bills to pay, kid. And you''re asking me to go up against a bunch of real psychopaths.¡±


    There was a lot that Murphy wanted to say to that. Instead, she looked at Peyton, who was bouncing anxiously on her feet while staring off into the distance. ¡°Do you see anything?¡±


    That wasn''t exactly what she meant. She was actually asking if the girl had gotten any more calls or texts from her mother, but they had agreed not to talk about that openly in front of the mercenary. That could too easily lead to exposing Peyton¡¯s identity.


    With a slight hitch to her voice, the other girl shook her head while replying, ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s all quiet and dark down there.¡±


    ¡°I tried calling my friend, but there was no answer.¡± That was Roald, or Calvin as he was known in costume. Honestly, Murphy thought they should have flipped those names. Roald was totally more of the Hobbes in their friendship. She was the impulsive Calvin. In any case, part of their cover story to make it harder for anyone to work out Peyton¡¯s identity was that they had found out what was going on here through someone in the apartment building who was his friend. It would be more difficult for anyone to connect the group to Peyton¡¯s mother if they were looking for someone who would be a friend of Roald/Calvin. His actual words meant that he¡¯d gotten the signal from Peyton that she had tried to call her mother back and got no response.


    Once she was assured that the cash she had demanded was all there, Cavalcade tucked it away and nodded to them. ¡°Right, we''re all good. Just tell me what you want from me, exactly. How¡¯re we gonna pull this one off, team?¡±


    ¡°Very carefully.¡± That answer came from That-A-Way, who had just appeared on the roof a few feet away. ¡°And without getting a bunch of innocent people killed.¡±


    ¡°Oh hey there, Minority chick.¡± Cavalcade lifted her chin curiously. ¡°They hired you too, huh? And here I didn''t even know you were for sale.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you couldn¡¯t afford me,¡± Way retorted dismissively, her gaze remaining centered on Style. ¡°You guys sure they don¡¯t have a bunch of lookouts staring at us right now? Because I¡¯m feeling pretty exposed right here.¡±


    Alloy was the one who answered. ¡°This building is higher than the one they''re in.¡± She gestured to the edge of the roof. ¡°The apartment¡¯s down that way. They''ve got someone on top of it, and a couple in the windows, but we don''t think they know we''re up here. They¡¯re watching the streets and the skies around the place, not this particular roof. At least not constantly. We¡¯ve been¡­ careful.¡± She left out the fact that she had almost gone charging in there by herself.


    ¡°Great, fantastic,¡± Cavalcade replied. ¡°Good to know we¡¯re not about to be shot immediately. I always like not being shot. And speaking of things I like, are we about to have more help?¡± She was looking at That-A-Way. ¡°You know, like the rest of your team, or your bosses. It would be really nice to have a whole bunch of your bosses here right now.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± the girl replied simply. ¡°They--they¡¯re trying to pull themselves away from another fight right now. The Niners attacked one of the hotels on the edge of town, the one holding people who couldn¡¯t leave before the lockdown happened.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Murphy found herself blurting. ¡°Yeah, sure, they don''t like out-of-towners, whatever. But it''s not like those people can leave right now even if they want to. They don''t have a choice.¡± It was probably stupid to even question what people like that were thinking, especially when they had more important problems. But still.


    ¡°No one said those assholes were logical,¡± Way replied. ¡°Anyway, they¡¯re in the middle of that. Raindrop¡¯s coming too. I tried to tell her she should wait, but¡­ but she wants to be here. Other than that, it¡¯s gonna take some time for anyone else to show up.¡±


    Shaking her head then, she carefully asked, ¡°Do we have any time? What are they doing in there? Are we sure the people are¡­ you know, still alive?¡± She hesitated through that, her voice catching a bit. It was pretty obvious that she didn''t want to even bring up the possibility, but felt it had to be asked. After all, it wouldn''t exactly be unheard of for the Scions to simply go into a building and kill everyone before the authorities could react. Murphy could think of at least three different times when something like that had happened over the years. Sometimes Pencil and his freaks wanted a drawn-out confrontation, and other times they just wanted to make a statement that no one was safe by killing a bunch of people before anyone even knew they were in danger. If this was one of those times¡­


    ¡°They¡¯re alive,¡± Style put in sharply, cutting off Murphy¡¯s intrusive thoughts. ¡°I can see heat signatures from their bodies. I''ve been able to peek over the roof enough to see what''s going on in there. Some of it, at least. They¡¯ve got most of the people down in the basement, all clustered together. Probably tied up and under guard. There¡¯s just a few lookouts in the rest of the building. And a couple different hostages with them, probably to stop anyone outside from taking shots at them. And¡­ and the searchers.¡±


    ¡°Searchers?¡± Raindrop had arrived, floating up from the far side of the building to land on the roof near them. Her soaked costume dried itself immediately as she pulled the water off it and created a floating ball that hovered next to her. ¡°What searchers?¡±


    Style answered. ¡°I''ve been watching their heat signatures, like I said. They''ve got four different groups of three going through every apartment in that place. It''s like they''re searching for something. But I don''t think they''ve found it yet, whatever it is, because they¡¯re still looking.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just checking for stragglers?¡± That-A-Way pointed out. She sounded uncertain, glancing toward Murphy and the others. ¡°Just in case they missed anyone. Hell, maybe they¡¯re looking for someone in particular and that¡¯s why they went there in the first place.¡±


    That made Murphy flinch a little inwardly. It was stupid to think that the Scions could have gone inside specifically to find Peyton¡¯s mother, of course. It was impossible. There was no way they could have known about her and gone to take the woman just to hurt Paintball¡¯s team, right? No matter how much they hated Cassidy (And they really hated her. Or ¡®him¡¯ rather), they didn¡¯t know about that connection. They couldn¡¯t have known. Hell, if they did, things would¡¯ve been a lot worse.


    From the way she reacted, Alloy had the same series of thoughts. It took her a moment to speak up, probably because she had to stop her voice from sounding completely panicked. ¡°If they are looking for someone in particular, they aren''t in there, right? All the people other than the Scions who were in that place are already in the basement being guarded by the others. And it¡¯s not like they separated any of them, so they haven¡¯t found any of their family members.¡±


    Right, that was a big thing. Not only had Peyton¡¯s mother apparently not been their target, but Peyton herself probably wasn¡¯t either. Not if the heat signature that belonged to her mother wasn¡¯t separated out from the rest of them. If they were there for her, they¡¯d definitely pull her mother aside and try to find out where Peyton was, right? Murphy felt a tiny bit of the anxious weight lift off her then. It wasn¡¯t much, but still. There was a big difference between Peyton¡¯s mother being in danger because she happened to be in the same building they were taking over, and being in danger because the Scions were literally there to find and use her to hurt everyone in Avant-Guard.


    Cavalcade, who had taken all that in and stood there thinking for a moment, spoke up. ¡°Right, well it sounds to me like our best move is to take the one on the roof, then make our way down, dealing with those searchers as we go. But do you have any idea where Pencil himself is? He''ll be the real threat. I don''t think any of us have anything that can deal with him. I''d grab him and just carry the fucker away, but the slippery bitch can just teleport away from me. Believe me, I¡¯ve seen him do it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve seen him teleport too,¡± That-A-Way murmured. ¡°He¡¯s got a bunch of Touched-Tech toys on top of being basically invincible. Picking him up and carrying him away isn¡¯t gonna work. Neither is punching him, or shooting him, or¡­ fuck. Basically anything. If there was a way to hurt that piece of shit, someone would¡¯ve done it by now. Whatever we do, we have to work around him, not through him.¡±


    Style cleared her throat. ¡°I think I know where he is. There¡¯s a separate room in the basement, probably a custodian¡¯s office or something. Anyway, two of the heat signatures are in there and some of the ones guarding the prisoners keep going over there now and then, like they¡¯re reporting in. I think that¡¯s Pencil and Cup in the office.¡±


    ¡°That costume of yours has some pretty neat tricks,¡± Cavalcade noted, giving her a curious glance. ¡°Did you buy it or get your friend the Tech-Touched to put it together for you? Either way, maybe I should look into an upgrade, because my infrared doesn¡¯t reach that far.¡±


    Instead of answering, Style just replied, ¡°You can certainly afford to get some better toys with all the cash we¡¯re paying you. Something tells me you¡¯re not shipping it all off to sick relatives at a hospital slash orphanage.¡±


    ¡°You never know,¡± the mercenary retorted with a small smirk. ¡°I¡¯m full of surprises. Now are you honestly going to tell me that we¡¯re about to go charging into an apartment full of Scions to save some helpless little civilians and possibly their innocent puppies, and two of your members are just complete no-shows? I¡¯m supposed to believe that Paintball would leave you hanging?¡±


    ¡°We told you,¡± Murphy quickly put in, ¡°they¡¯re busy with something else they can¡¯t walk away from. If they could, they¡¯d be here.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Cavalcade was looking at her in a way that made the girl squirm just a bit, before she turned back to look at the two Minority members. ¡°Well, at least we¡¯ve got a couple other Touched to make up for it. From what I hear, the little one packs a pretty big punch.¡±


    That-A-Way put a hand on her teammate¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Yeah, especially when she¡¯s pissed off.¡± She didn¡¯t say the mercenary should keep that in mind. But then, she didn¡¯t have to. There was more than enough implication. ¡°And yeah, if you guys can pinpoint exactly where the civilians are for me, I can get to a spot to teleport to them and then get them out. But I¡¯ll need a distraction. If that¡¯s Pencil and Cup in the adjoining office, they¡¯ll react before I can teleport around. It¡¯ll take more than one trip to get all of them, and as soon as I get out with one group, I¡¯ll have to run all the way around to get in the right position for another jump inside.¡± She shrugged then. ¡°The joy of only being able to teleport one cardinal direction.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Alloy put in, ¡°we¡¯ll cause a distraction. We¡¯re pretty good at those. Even without Paintball. I think--¡±


    Whatever the girl thought, she didn¡¯t get to explain. Because in that moment, an almost deafeningly loud boom filled the air, like thunder from a bolt of lightning that had struck incredibly closely. And like lightning, the boom was accompanied by a bright light. Only that particular light stayed where it was.


    Murphy, along with everyone else, spun that way to stare. They all had to run to the edge of the roof to look down. A bright, glowing wall of light had formed in front of the apartment building they had been waiting to go into, the apartment building full of the Scions, as well as all those innocent people including Peyton¡¯s mom.


    There was a sudden flash of motion from Cavalcade, as the Sell-Touched woman took off in a blindingly fast sprint. Or rather, created duplicates blindingly quickly, each one slightly further ahead of the last. Each incarnation of herself besides the latest one disappeared within a couple seconds of the creation of the next, creating what amounted to a rapidly vanishing trail of clones. Like a living speed blur. It went down the side of the building they were standing on, along the street below in a circle around the apartment in question, then back up again before she skidded to a stop on the opposite side of the roof from where she had started. ¡°It¡¯s all around the building, on every side and over the roof.¡±


    ¡°Like a big glowing cube,¡± Raindrop noted. ¡°But¡­ what is it?¡±


    Style was the one who answered. ¡°A forcefield. I just threw a rock at it and it bounced off. And my¡­ infrared can¡¯t see through it anymore. Neither can anything else. It¡¯s just one big white blob.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t teleport through it either,¡± That-A-Way put in. ¡°It¡¯s like it¡¯s not there. That whole building is just completely off limits. There¡¯s no way in.¡±


    Alloy made a noise deep in her throat, taking a step that way. All three of her loose marbles transformed into sledgehammers, flying off to slam into the shield repeatedly. But it was to no avail. The shield gave no reaction to her attacks. And if they couldn¡¯t break or teleport through it, that meant they couldn¡¯t get to those people.


    ¡°So whatever the Scions are doing with everyone in there,¡± That-A-Way snarled, staring at the glowing white box, ¡°we can¡¯t even see them anymore, let alone help.¡±


    ¡°Could we have helped even if the forcefield wasn¡¯t there?¡± Murphy found herself retorting. ¡°I mean, Pencil¡¯s basically invulnerable to everything. There¡¯s no way to hurt the motherfucker.¡±


    ¡°Yes, there is.¡±


    The voice came from the nearby roof access door, and everyone spun that way, taken aback by the new arrival. And Murphy was even more taken aback when she saw who was talking. Beside her, Roald made a noise of disbelief, audibly choking.


    ¡°And I know how,¡± Rubi Nilsen announced.

 Interlude 27D - Austen And Skip

    A/N - Reference is made during this chapter to a message sent out by Pencil. That message has not been seen yet in the ongoing narrative, but will happen early in the next arc. This interlude takes place partway through that arc.


    Austen Deleon had screamed for some time. That was all she could do after being betrayed by several of her top lieutenants, and half of the rank and file gang members, just when she was on the cusp of finally making her father pay for abandoning herself and her mother. She had been right there, his time was over. She was minutes away from cutting through his defenses and telling the man exactly who she really was so he would know that she had done this for her mother, and then they pulled this shit.


    She was going to kill them, that much was absolutely certain. Those three pieces of shit who had led this betrayal would get what was coming to them. Unfortunately, it wasn''t going to be easy, no matter how motivated she was. And she was very motivated. Those cocksuckers hadn''t simply turned traitor, they had linked up with another gang, a brand new one to town. That gang had resources needed to help protect their new Touched. But it didn''t matter how protected they were, or how long it took, she was going to make them regret their choices.


    Except being obsessed with making someone pay had already screwed her over to start this entire mess. She had been so singularly focused on finally being face-to-face with her father and telling him exactly why this was happening--on making him see just how badly he had fucked up by leaving her mother to be taken in by that cult-- that she had missed what was happening in her own gang.


    Her own gang. That was a laugh. Austen was technically part of two different opposing gangs, and neither of them really knew her. As Austen, she was a low-level nobody street runner for Oscuro, her father¡¯s people. But they weren¡¯t her people. She was a spy, she was there to gather information and keep an eye on things to better find ways of disrupting her father¡¯s work. And as Deicide, she was the leader of the Easy Eights. But they weren¡¯t her people either. They didn''t really know anything about her. She was nothing more than a mysterious, powerful figure who gave them orders. They thought she was an adult rather than a sixteen-year-old. And they definitely had no idea that she¡¯d been only thirteen when she took the reins and forced the original eight separate gangs to work together. They never saw her outside of the paper armor, never heard her true voice, never really talked to her. They were a means to an end, an army for her to use against her father¡¯s army.


    For three years now, no one had known the real Austen. She had escaped the cult that took her mother, killing the bastard in charge in the process, spent three months learning her own power and how to take care of herself without getting caught, and then threw herself into this personal crusade. She was under cover with no one watching her back. No one knew anything about who she really was or what she was doing. There was no one for her to turn to, no one to talk to. When she found herself betrayed by three lieutenants, there had been no one to warn her it could happen. No one had been there to help her notice what was going on right under her nose, and no one was there for her to vent to. She was alone. She was always alone, but this time it had truly backfired at one of the worst possible times. Her father was even stronger now, with new unknown Touched gained through a trade with the gang he had sent her former people to. And that gang had reason to back him in this war. His position was stronger than it had ever been, while hers was precarious, her people entirely unprepared to pursue this war. He had outplayed her, and quite possibly crippled her ability to make him pay for what he had done. Her failure to see the betrayal coming might have cost her any chance she had to see justice for her mother.


    So, she had gone out into the middle of nowhere and screamed. She had screamed until her throat was painfully sore, and had taken a literal baseball bat to break every window in the abandoned building she¡¯d found. No one was around, no one was nearby to see her as she let out all of her frustration and anger. She should''ve seen it coming. She should''ve known it was a possibility. She should have stopped it before it could ever be an issue. But she didn¡¯t, and now she had to deal with that. She had to find ways of rebuilding the gang, possibly by absorbing another, or recruiting from outside the city¡­ not that that part would be very easy with the lockdown stopping anyone from leaving, of course. Something¡­ there had to be something. She just had to take her time and think about it. And not let herself be completely blinded to what was going on with the people she was supposed to be in charge of anymore.


    But to do that, she had to clear her head. She had to push out all her emotions (not an easy job considering how angry she always was) and focus on the next step. So, she went for a walk. Not as Deicide, and not as part of a job for Oscuro. She walked through an outdoor mall as herself. Not that anyone knew her. But she had no ulterior motive, no plan. She wasn¡¯t setting up a heist, monitoring a potential target, making herself useful for Oscuro so they would let her in on more of their plans, nothing like that. She was, quite simply, zoning out and letting her mind wander. Later she would have to focus. For now, she was just walking. It was kind of a new experience. Or at least a rare one.


    Standing in front of a shop advertising T-shirts with funny slogans or pop-culture references, Austen looked at herself in the reflection. From here, she just looked like a small, almost malnourished Latina girl with short, almost boyish black hair and oversized clothes. There were dark circles under her eyes, which she took in briefly before letting a soft sigh escape her. She could handle this. There were options, as long as she didn¡¯t let her emotions take over again. She had to control herself, as hard as that was. The Touched lieutenants who had remained loyal could be useful, especially when it came to making traitors pay for--


    A cacophony of thunder filled the air, completely cutting off her thoughts. At first, she thought it was gunfire, a lot of the gunfire. But no, it was an explosion. The bomb, if that¡¯s what it was, blew out the second floor of the building just a couple doors down from where she stood in this outdoor mall. Austen felt glass spray across her face and arms, drawing several cuts as she reeled and fell onto her back side with a cry. Yelping like a little girl would''ve been embarrassing for anyone who knew her identity as one of the big bad gang leaders. But then, nobody did. She¡¯d spent plenty of time and effort making certain of that.


    Lying on her back while blinking dazedly at the ceiling, Austen heard people screaming and running around her to get away from the threat. For a moment, she simply stared blankly at the obvious flames and smoke coming out of the other shop. Impossible, this was impossible. Or it should''ve been. This was Easy Eights territory, deep in the heart of it. And she sure as hell hadn¡¯t authorized a bombing like this. What was going--


    Scions. She realized that belatedly, an annoyed growl escaping her. This was the Scions. Of course it was. After that message from Pencil, those fucking candidates of his were out doing¡­ exactly what he¡¯d told them to do. She''d heard whispers about some of those ¡®candidates,¡¯ and that one of them was apparently capable of doing something with explosions. And now he was playing with those explosions in her territory. These people who were terrified and running away, the ones who had been hurt or even killed in that shop, they were her responsibility. Yes, she was a criminal, the leader of a bunch of other criminals, but the people who lived in this territory still deserved a certain level of protection from other Fell-Touched.


    Her armor was never too far away. At the moment, the thick stacks of paper that could instantly transform into it were sitting in a briefcase that she had stashed in some bushes at the front of the mall. All she had to do was find a nice quiet, empty spot nearby and--


    There was an odd, sort of warbling effect in the air just a few feet away, followed by another explosion. This one was different, coming from almost directly ahead of and under Austen. And it wasn¡¯t the same concussive force as the first. Instead, it was like a hole simply appeared in the ground, as though whatever it was disintegrated the pavement, dirt, and everything else instantly to create an empty void. An empty void Austen found herself plummeting into.


    Before she had gone more than a few feet, still focusing on summoning a few scraps of paper from her pocket to catch her, a hand grabbed her arm instead. She was suddenly jerked to a halt in mid-fall, looking up to see a familiar figure lying at the edge of the hole, hand extended to hold onto hers. A familiar figure, but in a very unfamiliar situation.


    ¡°Skip,¡± she found herself blurting. Sure enough, the figure lying there, holding onto her arm, wore a short-sleeved white robe over a blue-black bodysuit, the hood covering most of her dark hair while the lower half of her face was hidden by a black cloth mask. The only easily discernible thing about her face through what was left was that she was Asian.


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    As she dangled there from the other girl¡¯s grasp, Austen had to remind herself not to say or do anything that would give her away. Skip wasn''t here to fight her, because she didn''t look like Deicide right now. As far as the Ten Towers Touched was concerned, she was just an ordinary innocent civilian bystander.


    That much was proven as Skip grunted and reached down to grab her arm with the other hand. ¡°Don''t worry,¡± she intoned, her voice completely emotionless despite the reassuring words, ¡°I''ve got you.¡± Then she began to pull Austen up. The other girl helped a bit, and soon she was back on solid ground. Only then did she glance over the edge and see the bottom of that pit a solid forty feet down. She could have survived by catching herself with her emergency paper, naturally. But that could have meant giving herself away.


    Of course, being saved by Skip couldn''t be the end of it. Things just had to get worse. Shouts filled the air as men in masks began pouring into the open courtyard of the mall from every direction. They had guns and were shouting for people to move one direction.


    Well, she definitely wasn''t doing that. Austin picked herself up and started to move toward the front so she could get a line of sight on her briefcase, but before she could go anywhere, Skip grabbed her arm. ¡°Not that way,¡± she flatly informed her before pulling the girl into the nearby clothing store.


    ¡°O-oh, right, yeah, sorry.¡± Austen did her best to play the part of a shell-shocked bystander. ¡°Who-who are those guys?¡±


    ¡°Bad people,¡± came the simple response, as the two of them slipped behind a row of tee-shirt racks just in time for one of the masked gunmen to go running past the open door. ¡°Wait here.¡±


    Then she was gone. Austen breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, good, now all she had to do was get to her briefcase. Or at least close enough to open it with her remote and summon those papers. She needed a decent stack to form her armor. Or she could use other paper around here. Not in this place, they had apparently gone paperless for the environment, or simply because they didn¡¯t want to have paper in territory controlled by someone who manipulated it. But there was a bookstore nearby. Which was the better choice, going to the front for her briefcase or toward the back for the bookstore?


    Before she could come to a decision on that, Skip was standing right next to her again. It made her jump in surprise. If there was one thing she wasn¡¯t accustomed to, it was having a Star-Touched suddenly appear within arms-reach when she looked like plain old ordinary Austen.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Skip apologized in that same toneless voice. ¡°There''s something wrong with the air. They''re blocking teleportation out of the area. I can move everywhere inside, but I can''t get out. And they have guards watching the street.¡± There was a brief pause before she turned to look at Austin. For the very first time, there was something else in her voice: faint curiosity. ¡°Why am I telling you that?¡±


    Austen found herself shrugging. Her voice was a whisper, still playing a part of a scared little girl in over her head. ¡°I guess you just needed someone to talk to? You can fight those guys, right? You can help the other people, I''ll just wait here and--¡±


    Before she could say anything else, the sound of footsteps filled the room. A man with a rather large shotgun came in, eyes sweeping over the store as he bellowed, ¡°Anyone in here?! You better get your asses out where I can see them or--¡±


    Suddenly, Skip was standing behind him. She had produced a collapsible baton from her belt, extending it its full length before bringing it down against his shoulder. There was a spark of electricity from the end of it, which clearly coursed through the man¡¯s body. At the same time, she stripped the gun away from him as he fell to his knees, then hit him with another jolt of electricity from the baton that left him twitching on the floor. Soon he was gagged with his own mask and handcuffed. Only then did Skip turn to look at Austen. ¡°I won''t leave you for his friends to find. Come on, I can get you out here. Then I¡¯ll come back.¡±


    Blinking, Austen asked curiously, ¡°You can teleport with people?¡± That was new information if so.


    ¡°No,¡± Skip informed her, voice so quiet it was barely audible. ¡°But I can walk you out. Everyone else is already either gone or under armed guard. Come this way, we¡¯ll get to the roof first. Then it¡¯s just a couple simple jumps to the wall before you can climb down. It¡¯s okay. I promise I won¡¯t let anything happen to you.¡± With that, she started to move to the nearby stairs, beckoning for the other girl to follow.


    Well shit. There was no way the Ten Towers Star-Touched hero was going to just walk off and leave Austen here, and anything she said to try to insist on it would just look stupid at best and suspicious at worst. Her only choice was to keep playing the part of an innocent civilian. Restraining the strong urge to curse, she quickly followed after her ¡®savior,¡¯ both of them ignoring the muffled threats coming from the handcuffed and gagged man on the floor.


    Just a few more minutes, she just had to play innocent for a few minutes and then Skip would finish escorting her off the grounds, go off to play hero, and she would be able to get her paper armor so she could find some real answers about what the hell was happening here.


    But yet again, it didn¡¯t turn out to be that simple. No sooner had they reached the top of the stairs to step into what should have been the second floor of the shop, then they found themselves emerging through a doorway that hadn¡¯t been there before, entering a cafe. That was it, just as confusing as it sounded. They climbed the stairs and stepped off the last one onto the top floor of the clothing store, and then they were in the bottom floor entrance of a cafe.


    ¡°What?¡± Austen pivoted, looking back the way they¡¯d come. The courtyard of the mall was right there, instead of the stairs they had just come up. But when she stepped to that doorway, the scene shifted and she was back on the stairs.


    ¡°The bombs,¡± Skip announced. She sounded a bit¡­ pained, which was even more confusing coming from her than most Star-Touched. ¡°That¡¯s why I can¡¯t teleport out of the area. It¡¯s doing something to my power. I can¡¯t make myself immune to it. They¡¯re twisting space, contorting it somehow. And it¡¯s making wormholes that lead around in circles within this area. Right¡­ here too.¡± She walked over toward one of the tables in a corner of the cafe before her body seemed to twist and shrink, then vanished entirely.


    It was rather disturbing to see. But Austen followed suit, emerging into the restroom of one of the other shops. They both moved through the doorway there to find themselves in the dining area of an ice cream shop. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s really weird. But¡­ but why are they doing that?¡±


    ¡°Testing it, I think,¡± Skip replied tonelessly. ¡°I can¡­ almost sort of feel them, as long as it¡¯s near a spot I walked past before. The air feels wrong. It¡¯s not the way it was before. It¡¯s¡­ disturbing.¡±


    Well now there was a good chance that Austen couldn''t get to the paper she needed for her armor even if this girl did leave her alone. She had the emergency pad in her pocket, so she wasn''t completely helpless by any stretch, but not enough to cover her entire body. This was going to get complicated. Even more than it already was.


    ¡°Can¡¯t get a signal either,¡± Skip announced, looking at her phone. ¡°There are no reinforcements coming.¡± She didn¡¯t sound afraid or even agitated. It was like she was reading a phone book, simply stating facts. ¡°I think I can find--¡±


    Before she could finish saying what she thought she might be able to find, a loud warbling sound filled the air. It sounded weird to Austen. Just like the warbling she had heard right before that second explosion that made the pit she had fallen into. But while it was simply ¡®weird and uncomfortable¡¯ for her, it was clearly much worse for Skip, who was being directly targeted by it. Suddenly, the girl fell to her knees, holding her hands against her ears with an audible cry.


    ¡°Yeah, sucks, doesn¡¯t it?¡± A man wearing brown-black body armor, along with a black hard-shell helmet that covered his entire face aside from holes for his eyes, announced while walking forward with his hands out. The warbling effect was being projected from there. ¡°I can fuck with your senses, your equilibrium, make you throw up right now. That¡¯s all it does for living people. When I use it on material objects, it makes a bunch of different types of explosions depending on the material. Which also fucks with space for awhile. That¡¯s where these portals come from. Neat, isn¡¯t it?¡± He gave a low chuckle. ¡°I bet you¡¯re trying to make yourself immune to it right now. But see, that requires you to have a second to focus, to think straight. And I¡¯m not giving you that second. You can¡¯t think, you can¡¯t use your power.¡±


    Austen reflexively took a step, but the man kept one hand focused on Skip, still projecting that debilitating effect, while using his other hand to point a pistol at her. ¡°I¡¯ll get to you in a minute, don¡¯t make me rush. I want to savor this. You know how many points I¡¯ll get in Pencil¡¯s little game if I kill the girl who¡¯s supposed to be immune to everything? Being invincible is his thing. Just stand still and watch this bitch¡¯s brain implode. A few more seconds of this and it¡¯ll start leaking out her ears.¡±


    Fuck! No, no, what the fuck? Austen¡¯s eyes snapped between the crumpled Star-Touched and the man standing over them. Skip had saved her. Sure, she could have survived the fall with her power, but the other girl didn¡¯t know that. And then she had refused to abandon Austen. She had risked a lot to try to escort her out of this place. Her, just an ordinary, nobody girl. Skip had absolutely no way of knowing Austen was anything more than that. She didn¡¯t know her from any other person on the street. But she tried to save her. And now she was¡­ she was¡­


    Like a flurry of rapidly beating wings, the stack of papers from the pad in Austen''s pocket flew into the air and hurled themselves at him. He recoiled in surprise, a couple of the bits of paper cutting through his palms and wrists, while others sliced through his face. He staggered, flailing wildly before turning to jump over one of the tables. There must have been a wormhole there, because he vanished from sight.


    Growling, Austen went to throw herself after him. But, like earlier, a hand grabbed her arm. Skip was back on her feet, holding her. The two of them stopped short, staring at one another for several long, tense seconds. Finally, the Star-Touched spoke.


    ¡°Thank you¡­ Deicide.¡±


    (To Be Continued After The Next Arc)

 On The Clock 28-01

    The drive back to Detroit took eighty-seven thousand years. Or at least that''s what it felt like. I would have put my hand on the constitution and sworn to everything I knew that we ended up going through some sort of time vortex that turned every second of that trip into a full day. It was truly excruciatingly long. Sitting in that van, knowing that Bobby was laying in that hospital bed behind us while the others were dealing with the Scions ahead of us, and we couldn¡¯t actually help any of them was one of the worst, most anxiety-inducing experiences of my life. We were just stuck in that van, forced to drive across that entire distance bit by bit even though we had a teleportation machine literally in the back seat. What level of irony was that, exactly? An incredibly painful one, that¡¯s what. I may or may not have spent an extended time glaring at the damn thing for being entirely useless in this particular situation.


    Obviously, we had been getting constant updates from the others in Detroit about everything that was going on, mostly through Sierra¡¯s connection with Paige. Which was at least enough to stop me from completely falling apart. They weren''t actually fighting Pencil and his merry band of killers. They couldn''t. Even if my team had suddenly become far more suicidal than I thought they were, those psychotic pieces of shit had put some sort of forcefield up around the apartment building they had taken over. An apartment building where Peyton lived, and where her mother still was.


    I had agonized over and over again through a pretty long part of the drive back there about whether that was intentional, both with myself and with Paige. Obviously it was possible, and right in keeping with who they were, for Pencil and Cup to deliberately target the family of one of my team. Especially considering how angry they had to be with us after we had exposed their identities. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t have been the least bit surprised about them deliberately targeting our families if they had any idea who those families were. But did they? I didn''t think so. Not in this case. If they knew who Peyton was, they would''ve made sure to grab her instead of just barging into her building while she was gone. They would''ve started this while she was home. And putting up the forcefield over the whole building, searching the whole place where they already had everyone in the basement, all of that didn''t really fit with the idea that they were deliberately attacking my friends or their families.


    All I could guess was that it really was just a coincidence. Whatever the real reason was for them to be there, the fact that they had chosen Peyton¡¯s apartment building for it was just really bad luck. But maybe not horrifically bad yet. After all, as far as Sierra had been able to tell with her infrared vision, they hadn¡¯t been killing anyone before the forcefield went up. That didn''t mean Peyton¡¯s mother and the rest of those people were completely safe. Not by a long shot. But I felt like the Scions going to the trouble of gathering everyone in the basement was something close to a positive sign. Or at least as close to one as we could hope for given the situation. When the Scions were involved, ¡®weren¡¯t killing the hostages immediately¡¯ was pretty much as good as it got. Hell, there had to be a reason they put up a whole forcefield around the building. This wasn¡¯t one of their usual games. This was something big. They knew that this would attract a lot of attention. Sure, the city was understaffed, but the Scions taking over an apartment building and putting a giant obvious forcefield around it? It wasn¡¯t how they did things. This was something different.


    Honestly, that made me even more worried in some ways. Sure, maybe Pencil wasn¡¯t there just to slaughter those people and move on. But then, what was he there for? Why make a big target out of himself? Something definitely didn¡¯t add up.


    Unfortunately, no answers were forthcoming. At least, not from where we were in the van on our way back. As for the others in the city, they made it clear that they knew something important. But they wanted to wait until we were back before getting into it. From the sound of things, they were afraid that saying too much, even on a communication channel as encrypted and safe as this one was, might be a bad idea. Wren said something about being worried that Cup might have some sort of Touched-Tech to intercept or identify if certain things were said. She made it clear that it was a big longshot and that the odds against the Scions having anything like that were about a million to one. But apparently whatever information they had was too dangerous to risk the one million, especially for any signal going all the way out of the city. They were going to wait and tell us the full story in person.


    ¡°Cops just tried explosives again,¡± Paige informed me while keeping her eyes on the road. She was getting updates through Sierra. ¡°No effect. Whatever they''re keeping that forcefield charged with, it''s effective. No one can transport through it, and they haven''t been able to knock it down.¡±


    Qwerty bounced up and down a bit on the dash while shaking his tiny head. ¡°But what are they doing? Why would they just take over the whole building like that? They haven''t made any demands or anything?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Apparently not. Sounds like they haven''t answered any calls at all. Other people saw them take over the building and reported it. A couple even managed to get out in time. But since the forcefield went up, it''s been completely silent. We were talking to the others through Sierra while you were asleep earlier and they said there was one spot where it flickered a little bit near the door for a minute and everyone thought something might be happening, but then nothing.¡±


    The three of us were silent for a moment, taking that in. I finally sighed. ¡°How much longer till we get there?¡± My voice was quiet. I knew it was nobody''s fault that we weren''t there. Hell, even if we had been, it wasn''t like anything different would have happened. I didn''t have some magical ability to get through a force field. If it had been a physical wall, then maybe my pink paint could have helped. But an energy shield? I would''ve been stuck sitting on the outside just as much as everyone else.


    Unfortunately, logic didn''t really help when it came to feelings, and I felt like I had messed up somehow. If anything happened to Peyton¡¯s mom and it turned out I could have helped in some way, I wasn''t sure how I would deal with that.


    Of course, that was ignoring the fact that we¡¯d had to take this trip to try and save everyone who was affected by Pittman¡¯s little biological attack, including my parents, and Paige and Sierra''s sister. Not to mention like half of the important Star-Touched in the city.


    Paige answered, again without looking away from the road. ¡°Four hours, assuming we don''t run into any problems. Then we just have to hope that the kid¡¯s teleportation works.¡±


    Right, Wren had been working on the way to bring us back into the city along with the machine we had picked up. The idea was that as soon as we were within range, she would be able to transport everything that had one of the badges we¡¯d used to transport out in the first place. But she hadn¡¯t been able to test it across that long of a distance or with something this size. So, it was going to be an adventure. But then again, that was basically our whole lives at this point.


    To distract myself from the terrible worry about basically everything, I talked with Qwerty for a little bit about what was going to happen once we got there. Not the big stuff, the personal stuff. I told him he would absolutely be able to stay at the shop with Wren and Fred, and that they were going to love him. I assured the nervous little parrot-squirrel that he had nothing to worry about as far as that went. From what Paige had said, the others were already anxious to meet the little guy. Almost as anxious as he was to meet them. Again, I had the impression that he had been incredibly lonely. I wasn''t sure if that was simply a product of being on his own for a few weeks after becoming what he was, or if his separate animal selves had been lonely too. I wasn''t sure about squirrels, but didn''t parrots usually travel in flocks? I thought they were social creatures. The fact that part of him had been a parrot on its own out there in the middle of Utah probably wasn''t good for it. Maybe that had contributed to his loneliness.


    In any case, we talked about that as well as what we were going to do about registering him. We were going to claim that he¡¯d Touched in Detroit. It was just better that way in the long run rather than trying to explain how he got from Utah into the closed off city all the way over in Michigan.


    So, we would simply lie and say he was always in Detroit. There was some sort of whole legal process that had to be gone through to register a TONI and give them full citizenship rights. I felt like it would be even more complicated now with everything that was going on in the city. But we were going to get it done as soon as possible. He deserved that much. Hell, after everything he had done, he deserved a lot more than that.


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    Eventually, he sat down in the back with the stack of activity books that we had taken the time to grab from the store when we were picking up supplies. While he busied himself coloring, I looked at Paige again and had to bite my lip before asking, ¡°Did you ever talk to Anthony about me? I mean, about my¡­ you know, about who I am.¡±


    Glancing over to me, Paige met my gaze. ¡°A little bit. Nothing huge or¡­ we weren''t trying to talk about you behind your back. He was just confused about how you could be sort of a girl sometimes and sort of a boy other times. He had questions.¡±


    That made me snort out loud. ¡°He definitely wasn''t the only one. The whole thing is one big question. Or a lot of them. Buckets and buckets of huge questions. I thought I was getting closer to answering them, or at least understanding them, then everything happened, and my memories¡­¡±


    I saw Paige¡¯s hands tighten on the wheel visibly before she spoke again. ¡°Your parents didn''t mean to hurt you like that. They thought they were helping with your trauma. They didn''t even know about that part, about any of that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, just like how they didn''t know about you.¡° My voice was soft as I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. ¡°But just because they didn''t know what they were doing doesn''t completely excuse them. They still made choices about what they thought was best for me without giving me the chance to speak up for myself. I was eleven years old, not two. I deserved the chance to tell them whether I wanted my memories or not. They didn''t even give me the chance to say anything. They brought that man into my room and let him erase my memories, completely against my will. The fact that there were some consequences they couldn''t have foreseen doesn''t make that better. It was wrong, no matter how I was feeling. I was upset. Of course I was upset. It was traumatic. But forcibly taking my memories away, erasing Anthony completely without giving me any choice? That was wrong, period. No matter what they knew or didn¡¯t know about everything else.¡±


    Paige made a noise of agreement and then the two of us were quiet again. That went on for a while, just listening to the radio while getting the occasional update from Sierra about the situation in Detroit. Not that there was much for her to say. The shield was still up and nobody could get through it. That was about the sum total of things. Eventually, once we were under an hour away, the rest of the team left the shop and went to our prearranged spot so they could set up to transport us back. The original plan had been to transport straight to Wren¡¯s place with the machine. But between how big the thing ended up being, and the fact that we were bringing Qwerty with us, Wren had decided it would be better to make things as easy as possible. So, we were going to try to make it across as short of a distance as we could. Well, as short as we could without attracting attention, anyway. If we had been willing to be obvious about it, we could¡¯ve showed ourselves at the nearest checkpoint and then teleported straight across. But something told me that wouldn¡¯t go well. The National Guard troops who were manning those checkpoints were probably a bit anxious after hearing that the Scions were up to something inside the city. Hell, for all they knew, Pencil and his people were trying to transport themselves out of there for some reason.


    Whatever they were doing, it was bound to make everything worse. And that was definitely going to make the guards patrolling the area around the city have pretty itchy trigger fingers. Now was not the right time to start freaking them out even more. So we were going to try to be as careful and quiet as possible. On the plus side, the rest of the team weren''t likely to run into any problems on their end. Between all the big guns trying to break through the forcefield around that building, and dealing with all the rest of the fighting, there wasn''t really anyone left to poke their noses into the quiet old print shop we had transported from in the first place when we left. Wren and the others would already be setting up there, putting together what Wren had described as her ¡®landing platform.¡¯


    As far as Qwerty went, Wren had been working overtime to get her transportation system ready for him so he could come across too. Thankfully, Paige had been able to send her all of his physical stats, scanning him from the tip of his nose down to the end of his tail. She gave the girl his weight, body dimensions, all of it. If he had been human-sized, it probably would''ve taken the girl too long to get him programmed into the transporter. But as it was, she finished with time to spare. And boy was he looking forward to his first time teleporting. He kept jumping from one end of the van to the other while making whooshing noises and calling for Captain Kirk to fire phasers.


    Obviously, that had raised all sorts of questions in my mind about what sort of pop culture TONIs came equipped with. When I¡¯d asked, he said he remembered watching the old Star Trek and a few other shows when he was a parrot. Not really watching obviously, but at least being in the same room while it was on. Even though that version of him couldn''t really process what was happening on the show, he still remembered bits and pieces of it. Enough to make references. That had made Paige bring up an article she¡¯d read that had said TONIs tended to remember things that they saw or encountered before they Touched and now had the required context to understand. Like if a dog spent a lot of time laying in front of a television that played a bunch of baseball games, then Touched, he¡¯d understand the rules of baseball without being told. Stuff like that. Which was just¡­ fascinating really. If I hadn¡¯t been so worried about Bobby, my parents, Peyton¡¯s mother and all those other people being trapped with the Scions, and¡­ and all of it, I could¡¯ve spent a lot more time digging into the details. And I probably would, once I could focus on that and didn¡¯t have a dozen other things competing for my immediate attention.


    So yeah, maybe in another eighty-seven years or something.


    Eventually, Paige pulled off the freeway about ten miles away from the nearest checkpoint. It was already dark, and she turned off the headlights to avoid drawing any attention. She didn¡¯t exactly need them anyway. We drove across the bumpy field, keeping an eye out for any helicopters. But honestly, I didn¡¯t expect to run into too many problems. They would be paying most of their attention toward making sure people didn¡¯t get out, or just stopping idiots from sneaking in.


    We were sneaking in, yes. And we were, in many ways, idiots. But still.


    Once we were as close as we could reasonably get, the three of us piled out. Qwerty jumped down to the ground, running to the nearest bush to relieve himself before frantically sniffing everything he could see. He kept asking if this was Detroit dirt, if that was a Detroit rock, if that beetle had Detroit citizenship, and so on. To say the little guy was excited was a bit of an understatement.


    Paige and I got the machine out of the van and put the pieces as close together as we could. Then she carefully put several of the teleportation badges Wren had made on them. We hadn''t come with enough, but the other girl had sent new ones through my special bag.


    Finally, it was all ready. We had our own badges on, including Qwerty. Paige had carefully clipped it onto the end of his fur right under his chin, and he stood up straight, proudly displaying it.


    ¡°You''re sure all my stuff is okay?¡± Qwerty asked anxiously. I had sent his activity books and all that through the same bag that we used to get the new badges from Wren.


    ¡°Yup,¡± I assured him. ¡°The others already said they got them on the other end. Murphy says you did better on the crossword than she could have.¡±


    The squirrel-parrot beamed at that, and blushed a little bit. He bounced anxiously on his hind legs, asking, ¡°Are we going now?¡±


    I started to say yes, before Paige spoke up. ¡°Wait, something¡¯s going on in there.¡± She held her phone up and showed me a news broadcast. Qwerty bounded up to my shoulder to watch as well. There was a reporter standing in front of the building with the force field around it. He was already talking. ¡°--- found on a USB drive delivered through a hole in the field that appeared momentarily. Here''s that message now.¡±


    The view changed, and we were looking at Pencil in his costume. He was staring at the camera intently, unnervingly so. That was obviously the point, because he kept it going for a few seconds before speaking. ¡°Boy, times are tough, aren''t they? Seems like every time you turn around, someone''s trying to fuck you over. First a gang war, and now we''ve got this plague knocking out half the heroes in this city. I mean, even I think this is a bit unfair for our side. It''s no fun without a challenge.¡±


    The words sounded like things he would say, but there was something wrong with how he was saying them. It was like he was going through the motions in a way. If I didn''t know better, I would''ve said he was anxious and worried about something. Yeah, he was definitely on edge.


    ¡°I mean, in these hard times, we all need someone to lean on,¡± he continued. There was even more anxiety in his voice. I was pretty sure anyone would pick up on it. ¡°Me? The person I lean on is my sister. I think you all know her, but let''s take a look. Say hi, Amanda.¡±


    The camera moved, and we saw the girl in question, Cup without her costume. But she didn''t say hi. She was laying on a bed in some random apartment. And she was mumbling. The person with the camera stepped closer, and we could hear Cup--or Amanda-- saying random things about being a police officer for some sort of time travel organization. At first I thought she was using her power, but no, she was just talking in her sleep.


    Wait, oh no. This was like my dad doing the whole Indiana Jones thing. Cup wasn''t just asleep, she had been affected by the biological attack, which meant it was outside of the building where it originally happened.


    ¡°There are three hundred and four people in this building,¡± Pencil announced when the camera turned back to him. ¡°Find the cure for this shit and bring it here. And in case you need some motivation for that, we¡¯ll all use that number. After forty-eight hours, if you don''t bring the cure, each of those seven candidates who have been trying oh so hard to earn their spot with our little family are going to kill three hundred and four people every single day until you do.¡±

 On The Clock 28-02

    This was bad. This was really, really bad. Not only for the obvious reasons that we couldn''t let all those people die, but also because if Cup really had been infected by this biological attack, did that mean others could be as well? Others who weren''t in the quarantined building. Up until this point, we had at least been able to say that it was contained to that spot, and that the only people who were affected were the ones who were right there when the attack happened. But if Cup was sick too, then¡­ wait, was she there at the time and just got out? Had she been affected this whole time, or was this something new?


    As if reading my mind, Paige spoke up quietly. ¡°This is new. She wasn''t affected before. He would have lashed out earlier if she was. He wouldn''t have been this patient for so long. Not with his sister in that condition.¡±


    Right, of course. She had a point. If Cup had already been affected from the start, we would''ve heard about it before now. But that just made the whole thing even worse. If she wasn''t part of the initial group, that meant that it had gotten out somehow. But how?! How the hell had it escaped confinement. Or was this another attack? One we didn''t hear about? But if there was, then why would it only affect Cup? Or had she gotten into the sealed off building far enough to become infected despite everyone knowing what she looked like?


    There were so many questions, and we didn''t have answers for any of them. What I did know was that if we didn''t find a cure for this within two days, the Scion candidates were going to kill over three hundred people each per day. And, well, to be fair, I was pretty sure even if we did somehow get the cure that soon, Pencil still wouldn¡¯t call them off.


    ¡°Are there really seven of them?¡± I found myself whispering in horror. Seven candidates, and we had only met one of them. If they were all as amoral and awful as Broadway¡¯s foster sister¡­fuck.


    ¡°We have to go along as though there are,¡± Paige reminded me with a heavy sigh. ¡°Seven candidates times three hundred and four is two thousand one hundred and twenty eight victims per day.¡±


    It was a staggering number. As though we didn''t have enough pressure to find this cure. Now Pencil had to add some gasoline to the fire. And even if we did do all this, again, who was to say he''d actually follow through with the agreement? He¡¯d said that all those people would die if we didn''t bring his sister the cure. But knowing him, he was just as likely to take the cure, laugh, and have his people kill everyone anyway. He had absolutely no reputation for keeping his word. Quite the opposite, actually.


    And yet, we couldn''t just do nothing. We had to get that cure and then go from there. It wasn''t like this changed what we had to do, exactly. The plan had to be the same. We would grab Pittman off of Breakwater, shove him in that machine, and get the information out of his subconscious. From there¡­ Well, we¡¯d just have to see what happened.


    With that in mind, Paige and I kept getting ready to transport over. We couldn''t do anything from out here, and the longer we waited, the better chance there was of being caught. And we already had more than enough complications without throwing something like that onto the pile.


    The others wanted to talk about what happened, of course. Especially about some sort of secret they had been keeping. I could tell they were pretty anxious on that front, bursting to tell us¡­ something. But they were waiting until we were there to really get into it. Instead, they kept sending updates about getting the system set up on their end. Wren was being even more of a strict perfectionist than usual. Which I really appreciated considering what was about to happen. I didn''t want any slapdash seat of our pants teleportation, no thank you. We couldn''t even walk as close as we had been during the first transport, thanks to the machine. None of us wanted to try carrying those big pieces all that way without being seen.


    But this was close enough, or it was supposed to be. I had a feeling there were still a lot of crossed fingers on that front. And no, I wasn''t a great fan of crossed fingers when it came to being teleported either.


    So, Paige and I used that time, once we were both dressed up in our costumes just in case we ended up being transported somewhere other than where we wanted to go, to talk a bit more about what we were going to do about the whole Pencil situation. Honestly, after going back-and-forth on it a dozen times, we still didn''t have much of an idea. The only thing I could think of was to get the cure and tell him that he could have it as soon as he let all those people go and surrendered the identities of his Scion applicants. I definitely wasn''t going to just hand it to him while he still had all that hanging over everyone¡¯s heads. That would''ve been stupid in basically any situation, let alone when it involved a guy like him. He seemed to care about basically one thing and one thing only in the entire world besides having his own version of fun and hurting people. And that was his sister. Demonstrating that we had the cure and that he could take it to help her if he restrained his urges, let all those people go, and called off his candidates seemed to be the only solution. Even then I wasn''t exactly sold on the chances of it working.


    In the end, we were basically hoping that some other group had made progress on identifying who those other candidates were so they could track them down and stop this whole thing before it turned into that level of tragedy. I knew Broadway and Pack were working with Grandstand, so maybe they had something.


    But in any case, the only way we could get as far as having a cure to offer that psycho was by getting it out of another one. Thankfully, it wasn''t long before we got word that everything was ready on that end. Calling Qwerty over, I had the little guy sit on the dirt a few feet away from me with his teleportation badge proudly displayed. Probably best not to have him on my shoulder, or touching either of us in any way when we went through this teleportation. I didn''t really feel like coming out on the other end as a parrot-squirrel-human joint hybrid. Maybe that was impossible, but I wasn''t going to take the risk.


    First, it was time to send the machine over. We were going to start with that part, since that wasn¡¯t actually alive. Yes, losing it would be a big deal, but not as big as one of us getting turned inside out. Not that I thought that had any chance of happening. After all, I had already been teleported by Wren¡¯s transportation doohickey before having any idea how potentially dangerous it was. The fact that she¡¯d gone through extra calculations after that and determined that me making it without any issues was practically a minor miracle did give me a bit of pause, but still. I had faith in her.


    As the three of us watched, the machine flickered a bit, turning mostly translucent briefly before coming back as if nothing had happened. Just as I opened my mouth to ask if there was a problem, it vanished completely without any further warning. All the separate pieces of it were gone. Immediately, I held my breath. I didn''t want to jinx anything by speaking up. The seconds ticked by while I moved my eyes to look at Paige. Our gazes met, and I could see the uncertainty there. Why was it taking so long for them to confirm the--


    ¡°Got it!¡± That was Murphy, sounding as relieved as I suddenly felt. ¡°Sorry, we had to make sure it looked just like the pictures you sent and that nothing got turned inside out or melted or whatever. But it¡¯s here! We¡¯re good, it¡¯s good.¡±


    Most--okay some of the tension left me. At least the big thing was in the city. I¡¯d been afraid, somewhere in the back of my mind, that Wren¡¯s own teleportation tech would prove to be incompatible with Pittman¡¯s and that trying to move it that way would make the whole thing explode or something. But no, it was there, they had it.


    Now we just had to get ourselves into the city. Then this trip would be over and we could move on to the next step. Even if it had suddenly become even more complicated thanks to the Scions. And really, wasn¡¯t making things more complicated and worse basically the entire reason they existed?


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    Wren got on the phone and gave us a countdown, and I could hear the mix of excitement and nervousness in her voice as she instructed us to stand as still as possible. Even Qwerty took that seriously, suppressing his obvious urge to bounce up and down wildy and instead simply clutched his badge as it was pinned to his fur and grinned excitedly. He was over the moon about going to Detroit. He¡¯d been asking questions about the whole city the entire time we''ve been driving there, and now he wanted to explore the place. He had so many spots he insisted on checking out. Some of which were big tourist spots and others were just like¡­ my school. Honestly, it was too bad we were coming back to the city in such a bad situation, because I would''ve loved to play tour guide for the little guy for the next few days. He deserved it.


    Strangely, I didn''t even feel anything odd once the transport happened. Maybe it was because my body was accustomed to this by now, or because Wren had been working on perfecting it over the past few days. But either way, there was absolutely no physical reaction to the transport at all. The only indication I had that anything had happened, other than Wren reaching zero in her countdown, was the sudden change in scenery. It was like I blinked and suddenly we were standing in a completely different place. Which, honestly, was about as disorienting as if there really had been a physical reaction. It made my brain twist in on itself trying to figure out what had just happened.


    Turning in a circle inside which turned out to be the inside of that closed print shop, with all the copy machines, computers, and such shoved out of the way to create this open space in the middle of the carpeted room, I saw the pieces of Pittman¡¯s machine first. Then I saw the others, including Wren, who immediately bounded over to hug me tightly. ¡°You made it!¡±


    She wasn¡¯t only talking about the fact that the teleportation had been successful, I knew. It was all of it, the whole trip. She had probably been about as worried as I was that something would go wrong.


    Of course, something had gone wrong. Bobby was shot, and even at that very moment, still recovering. All of us had nearly died multiple times. But a lot of things had gone right too, including me getting all of my memories back. Sure, a lot of those memories were painful, especially the end of them. But I was still counting it as a positive. I would rather have all my memories, no matter how much they hurt, rather than let them be erased.


    Returning Wren¡¯s hug, as well as all the others as they came in for their own, I thanked them for holding down the fort. When it came to Peyton, I held her arms and met her gaze. ¡°We¡¯re gonna get your mom out of there, and all the others too. I promise, we¡¯ll do whatever it takes.¡±


    She hesitated, then stepped in for another hug, squeezing even tighter than she had the first time. Her voice was soft. ¡°I can¡¯t lose her, PB. I just--she¡¯s my mom and all I did was complain about how much she worries about me.¡± I could hear the crack in her voice, she was on the edge of tears. ¡°I have to save her. I don¡¯t care what--I don¡¯t care what happens to me. I just have to save her.¡±


    ¡°We will,¡± I promised again, feeling the hoarseness in my own voice. What was with our parents being endangered lately? Mine had been hurt by Pittman¡¯s stupid attack and still weren¡¯t exactly out of the woods, Paige¡¯s adopted parents, shitty though they might¡¯ve been, were turned into bio-bombs and killed, plus her adopted sister was in the same situation as my parents. Hell, Murphy had lost her own ¡®parental¡¯/guardian figure with her brother¡¯s death not so long ago. It was¡­ yeah, it was bad.


    Swallowing back those thoughts and reminding myself that we still had a chance to save most of those people, I turned and gestured toward the spot where the small, brightly-colored figure sat seemingly frozen. ¡°Okay guys, I¡¯d like you to meet Qwerty.¡±


    Considering how excited and animated he had been before, now the little guy seemed almost paralyzed by nervousness. Which, to be fair, this was kind of a lot. His wings spread out a little as he slowly lifted his head to find everyone staring at him. Visibly gulping, he raised one tiny paw and waved, voice cracking. ¡°Um, hiya.¡±


    Wren was the first to move, taking a step that way before going down onto her stomach in front of him. The rest of us simply watched as she laid right down like that, her nose only a foot or so away from the small TONI. ¡°Hi!¡± she chirped, waving with two fingers. ¡°I¡¯m Wren. Or Trevithick, I guess. It¡¯s nice to meet you! I like your wings. I have them too, see?¡± With that, she picked herself up and let her glowing wings extend from the flight pack she was, of course, wearing. They lifted her off the floor and let her hover there.


    Qwerty immediately seemed to forget all about his nervousness. Jumping up to my shoulder, he pointed with a gasp. ¡°You can fly! Can you teach me how to fly?! I just glide. I haven¡¯t figured out the rest of it yet.¡±


    Wren held her hands out and he jumped over to land in her palms as she laughed. The two of them started talking excitedly, before the others gradually made their own introductions now that he didn¡¯t seem so skittish.


    Letting out a long, heavy breath, I turned to where Sierra was. ¡°How''s my brother doing?¡±


    She offered a small shrug. ¡°Well, he didn¡¯t guess that I wasn¡¯t you, as far as we can tell. Probably helps that he''s been pretty distracted. He hasn¡¯t really been spending a lot of time at home. I think they''re all still trying to tear apart the whole state looking for where dear old Daddy had his bioweapon made, so it¡¯ll give them some clues about fixing it.¡±


    ¡°Well good luck to them,¡± I replied sincerely. Whatever happened, all that really mattered was fixing this situation. Which reminded me of the card in my pocket, the one Bobby had given me. He¡¯d said I should call the number on it if we needed anything. It had to connect to the Ministry, right? Between that and Paige¡¯s own connections to them, would it be a good idea to tell them what we were planning? They could help make sure nothing went wrong once we transported that piece of shit over here, and probably send him back when we were done.


    Or, well, not send him back. Some part of me recognized the probability that they would just kill him. Which¡­ I had conflicting feelings about. But the fact that they were conflicting feelings and not a complete dismissal of the very idea probably said a lot about my state of mind when it came to Benjamin Pittman.


    Either way, the Ministry might be able to help with this. After all, they were as motivated as we were to get that cure. If they were going to play nice with us in any situation, now was it.


    On the other hand, it would''ve meant telling them way too much, and letting them get too close to everything. Hell, we¡¯d have them inside Wren¡¯s shop when we transported that bastard over and did the thing with him. I couldn''t risk that. We couldn¡¯t risk it. Yes, they had motivation to play nice right now, but if they saw something they shouldn¡¯t, or heard something¡­ it was too risky. Besides, they had their own things to do. If somehow our plan didn''t work and we couldn¡¯t get the cure out of Pittman this way, it was better that they had their own things to try rather than throwing their eggs into our basket.


    But if Wren¡¯s modified device couldn¡¯t pry the answer out of that piece of shit, I was absolutely going to call in the Ministry and hand him over to them. Something told me they had ways of getting those answers.


    Before I could focus too much on that, however, the others all exchanged looks. Then Murphy spoke up. ¡°Uh, we should probably talk about the other thing.¡±


    ¡°Other thing?¡± I echoed. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    It was Roald who responded, calling out, ¡°It¡¯s okay, you can come in now!¡± To me, he added, ¡°It¡¯s okay, she doesn¡¯t know who you are. Just Murphy and me.¡±


    That made me blink over toward the nearby door, as an older blonde girl who looked somewhat familiar hesitantly stepped inside. ¡°Um, hi,¡± she started, sounding nervous. ¡°My name¡¯s Rubi. I¡­ guess my brother and his friend work for you? Or¡­ they¡¯re--sort of like your¡­ minions?¡± She grimaced. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m still wrapping my head around all this. I can¡¯t believe they¡¯re really--¡± Visibly choking herself off, she focused. ¡°Please, I¡¯ve got a lot of questions about all that, but this is more important. I need your help. Pencil has a weakness. I know¡­ I know how to hurt him.¡±


    That made me do a double-take. Well, okay, the entire situation made me want to do about an octuple-take, at least. This was Roald¡¯s sister?! She knew about them? She was here?! What--how--


    Yeah, she wasn¡¯t the only one trying to wrap her head around this. But if she was right about knowing Pencil¡¯s weakness¡­


    Clearly interpreting my body language, Rubi¡¯s head jerked up and down quickly. ¡°Exactly. I want to get the information out there, but I don¡¯t know who to trust. If he¡¯s got like, seven candidates for more Scions out there, who do we talk to who can actually do something with it before it¡¯s too late and won¡¯t think we¡¯re just screwing with them? And who definitely isn¡¯t working for them?¡±


    I was still reeling from her sudden arrival, and the issues it raised. But her question made me reach for my pocket. Pulling out the card Bobby had given me with the Ministry¡¯s number, I held it up.


    ¡°You know, I think I¡¯ve got just the answer for that.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 15 - Orb Cults

    The following is a look at three different Orb-centric CULTS (not religions, that was the previous commissioned interlude) that have come into being ever since Touched began to be a thing in this world.


    Galileo¡¯s Adherents


    The loud sound of splashing water filled the enclosed room as a young woman dove into one end of the pool and struck out to swim as quickly as possible to the other end. Next to the pool, a boy with dark red hair who appeared to be about eleven years old stood with a stopwatch, holding it up in the air while it ticked away. Under his other arm was a bag of tools. Unlike the swimming figure, he wore no bathing suit, and was instead clad in beige shorts, a black and white striped shirt, and a long brown jacket that reached all the way to the floor, with dozens of pockets all over it.


    Once the woman reached the far end, she flipped around, kicking off with her feet to return the way she had come. That was repeated once more at the first end before she finally pulled herself out after going the length of the pool three times in total. As soon as she was up on solid ground, the girl shouted, ¡°Time!¡± Rising to her full height, brought her to nearly six feet, with long limbs and a very thin, almost anorexic build. Her hair matched the boy¡¯s well enough to mark them as siblings, given she appeared to be somewhere in her late teens or incredibly early twenties.


    The boy clicked something on the watch, and a voice projected from the thing announced, ¡°Congratulations! You have beaten your old record of one minute, thirty-three seconds with a new personal best of one minute, thirty-two seconds!¡±


    Growling a bit, the woman rose and moved to join the boy. ¡°That''s it? One measly second? That can''t be the best I can do. I screwed up somewhere. Play it back, Henri.¡±


    The boy, Henri, pushed another button on the stopwatch. A perfect holographic replica of the woman appeared right where she had been at the end of the pool and dove in before starting to swim. The watch even re-created the image of the splashing water, and projected sounds properly. Though those sounds came from the watch rather than from the actual holograms, a problem they were still working on.


    The girl was carefully watching her own holographic figure from the side of the pool, making a mental note about every motion she made that wasn''t completely perfect. Before she was done with that, however, a chime sounded from the intercom overhead, preceding a pleasant female voice which announced, ¡°All Intellects and their Adjuncts please report to the Planetarium. Repeat, all Intellects and their Adjuncts please report the Planetarium. The Rocket Man will be speaking soon.¡±


    Jumping a bit with excitement, Henri stowed the special stopwatch and gestured. ¡°Come on, Carla, it¡¯s the Rocket Man!¡± In his eagerness, the boy immediately pivoted and started to dash out of the room.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Carla waved a hand while calling after him. ¡°Did you forget something?¡± She gestured pointedly to her swimwear and soaked form.


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Turning back around, the boy dug through one of the pockets on his long jacket before coming out with a pair of metal bracelets. He tossed them to his sister, and she snapped them onto her wrists. As soon as she did so, there was a brief flash of light, and then she was dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, her body completely dry. Looking down at herself, the tall girl gave a small smile of satisfaction. ¡°Hey, you''ve been working on this. It didn''t even put my shirt on inside out this time.¡±


    ¡°That was a bug,¡± Henri informed her. ¡°I fixed it. Come on! We¡¯re gonna be late!¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Carla trailed after him while shaking her head. ¡°Dude, we''re absolutely not going to be late. You know they don¡¯t start these things immediately. They know it takes a while for you eggheads to pull yourselves out of your experiments.¡±


    Still, she walked with her brother out of the pool area. The two of them made their way through the enormous mansion where Henri and sixteen other Tech-Touched, along with their ¡®Adjuncts¡¯ (relatives or close friends who cared for them and were brought along as guardians/assistants) lived and worked. This mansion stood in the middle of its own private island, with enough suites to house twice as many as were already here. To say nothing of the five separate buildings surrounding the main one, each of which was home to even more members of the group calling themselves Galileo¡¯s Adherents. They were people who revered Tech-Touched, believing they would bring about the next stage of humanity (or next several stages). The Adherents worked to recruit as many Tech-Touched as they could, bringing them here to this island so they could work in peace without being distracted by the constant Star-Touched versus Fell-Touched fighting, the laws of whatever city or country they happened to live in, lack of resources, or anything else. This was a place for them to stretch their minds, and their gifts. It was a safe haven for Tech-Touched to truly build to their hearts¡¯ desires.


    With, of course, a focus on the group¡¯s ultimate goal.


    ¡°Hey, Henri!¡± As the two of them walked through the mansion on their way to the top floor, where the Planetarium was, they were joined by a somewhat rotund-looking man in his early thirties, with long black hair, dark skin, and a cheerful face. He wore an open gray shirt over a white tee and a pair of black slacks. ¡°I¡¯ve been using your seasoning, it¡¯s great!¡± From the pocket of those slacks, he produced what appeared to be a simple black salt shaker. ¡°Just sprinkle some on absolutely anything and it tastes fantastic. Doesn¡¯t take away any of the nutrition, doesn¡¯t do anything except make gross stuff taste good. Excellent job, my dude. With this stuff, I¡¯ll stick to my diet and take these extra pounds off for sure.¡±


    Smiling a bit at his enthusiasm, Carla replied, ¡°That¡¯s what he¡¯s here for. I mean, and all that other stuff. But helping people improve themselves, that¡¯s the big thing.¡±


    It was true. That was Henri¡¯s ¡®focus¡¯ as a Tech-Touched. Everything he designed, from the stopwatch that allowed someone to view everything they had just done so they could improve their time and form, to the bands that made changing clothes and drying off (and cleaning since Carla was as fresh and pristine as though she had taken a shower) instantaneous, to the spice shaker that made anything it was put on taste delicious without taking away any nutrition (in fact, it added a fair bit), and more, was entirely focused on helping people improve themselves in some way.


    Their companion, on the other hand, had his own focus. His allowed him to create any item as long as it had something to do with survival. He had created small pill-like tablets that could be swallowed to provide a full day''s worth of food or water. They could only be used once per day, and only three consecutive times before someone had to have actual food and water, or there would be dangerous, potentially deadly side effects. He was still working on that. But even with the drawbacks, the pills would allow real food to be stretched out and rationed across a much longer time. He¡¯d also created a jacket that provided its own temperature regulator so that anyone who wore it would be comfortable anywhere from zero degrees fahrenheit, up to a hundred and twenty.


    Those inventions and more had been what brought Stanton Hurst to the attention of their benefactor. A benefactor they were all going to see right now.


    Soon, as the trio continued through the mansion, they were met by Stanton¡¯s own Adjunct, his wife Rena. She was a cheerful woman of bright yellow hair, as thin as her husband was not. The two of them embraced at the bottom of the stairs, before the group continued on, gradually joining the line of other Intellects and Adjuncts who were all filing into the Planetarium.


    Once inside, the group found their way to open seats in front of the raised stage set below the hologram projectors that were showing a view of the solar system. Right there, standing in front of them as he waved back at everyone who was excitedly greeting him, was Gilbert Saunders, the founder of Galileo¡¯s Adherents. He was an older man, in his early to mid-sixties, with long gray hair that fell to his shoulders and a clean shaven face. His eyes were a startlingly deep green, and he wore a dark blue power suit with a white flame design across the torso. Normally, when in public, his face was covered by a matching helmet with a visor that was shaped and colored to look like the tips of those flames. But for now, the helmet had been retracted into the suit.


    Gilbert was better known as the Rocket Man. He was an incredibly skilled Tech-Touched in his own right, whose focus lay in creating--well, rockets and missiles. Anything that was projected across a preferably vast distance, usually before accomplishing some effect when it arrived. He had created weapons for multiple governments, and even managed to build the suit he was wearing now, along with over a dozen more for his personal armed guards. The suit allowed them to fly, project more fire power then a modern tank, and could even survive in space. Which was important, given the ultimate goals of the Rocket Man.


    ¡°Welcome!¡± with a broad, beaming smile, he greeted the people he had brought under his roof and given true purpose. ¡°Let us give thanks to the Orbs for all they have given to us.¡±


    With that, he and everyone else gathered put their hands in front of themselves, cupped together as though wrapped around a ball, or shaped like one. It looked quite similar to the way people of many religions would clasp their hands in prayer. But, of course, this was very different. They were giving things to a tangible object, one that had brought about so much good. And one which they, and only they, understood the true purpose of.


    Once they had taken a few moments to think on all that the orbs had done, and all that that they would do, the Rocket Man addressed his flock once more. ¡°We have excellent news to share. Our friends in Russia have succeeded in locating several of the materials that have escaped our grasp up until now. When they return, we will be three steps closer to the completion of the Vincenzo."


    That brought about the loudest cheer yet, and it was easy to understand why. The group had been working on the Vincenzo for seven years now, ever since Gilbert Saunders had put together enough capital to fund the creation of this organization. Henri and his sister had only been here for a single year, but they were excited too.


    Right in front of their eyes, the holographic display of the solar system turned to one of the object in question. It was a rocket. Or rather, a spaceship. Stretching almost a thousand feet long and two hundred feet wide, and shaped like a very long shaft with three smaller sets of wings equidistant apart at the base, the middle, and the top, the vessel was still only half-finished. But when it was done, the Vincenzo (named for the actual Galileo¡¯s illegitimate son) would be capable of carrying every member of the Adherents safely to their new lives. They would be locked into stasis pods while the ship itself would travel for over a thousand years to reach a new habitable planet.


    ¡°This was what the Orbs have provided these gifts for!¡± the Rocket Man called out over the sound of the excited cheers. ¡°To grant us this opportunity! I have seen the lengths to which the people of this world will war with one another. But we will be party to it no longer. None of the breakthroughs we make shall be shared with the fallen world. The people of the old world rejected Galileo¡¯s teachings, and so shall we, as his Adherents, reject them! All of our gifts shall go to making possible our great departure from this planet, or to ensure our ability to thrive once we reach that blessed paradise!


    ¡°Six more months, my friends. Then it will be time.¡±


    **********


    Garden of Badb


    The sound of rowdy, raucous cheers was nearly deafening as they echoed across the dark sand dunes in northern Nevada. Several hundred people had formed up around a circle of flat ground about fifty feet in diameter that was separated off by a series of torches. The flames from those torches flickered wildly in the breeze, casting shadows in every direction. Standing within was a single figure, a woman with long, thick, flowing brown hair that went all the way to her knees. Like everyone else in this place, she wore old, worn clothes. In her case, that amounted to ratty jeans with many holes in them, a red tee-shirt that had been worn down to being almost pinkish-white and whose logo of an auto shop had long-since become illegible, and a leather jacket.


    ¡°I stand in the circle!¡± The woman bellowed, her voice rising to be heard over all the cheers. ¡°I am Cat-O¡¯-Nine! Who comes to break my circle?!¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence as the assembled group looked to another, waiting for one who would challenge. Finally, a shorter, Latino man, barely five feet tall but quite muscular (a fact that was even more clear given his lack of a shirt), pushed his way forward and raised a hand. ¡°I, Bullfrog, will break your circle!¡± He thumped his fist against his bare chest, showing off the intricate tattoo there of his namesake sitting on a log.


    A chorus of mixed jeers and cheers met this announcement, depending on whose side each of those surrounding the circle happened to be on. The noise, however, died completely as a tall, white-haired grisled old woman who had to be pushing seventy, with dark leather clothes stepped into view next to the other woman in the circle. ¡°Bullfrog has challenged! Does Cat-O¡¯-Nine accept?!¡±


    ¡°She does, Badb,¡± the first woman confirmed while staring intently at the man in question. The name she spoke sounded like ¡®Bive¡¯ ¡°Oh she very much does.¡± Turning to face her, she raised one arm. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Badb, in turn, held up her own hand. Each of her nails was covered in a long metal claw. Without preamble, she drove those claws into the other woman¡¯s arm, just deep enough to draw blood. Those lines of blood covered her nails before floating off into the air, pooling together into a floating egg-shape which subsequently solidified. A second later, the ¡®egg¡¯ cracked, breaking apart before transforming into the form of a small bird, made up of dark blood.


    Once that was done, Badb walked over to the challenger and put her claws into his chest to create another blood bird. Then she walked out of the way, the two avian figures following her before perching on either shoulder once she was beyond the torches and back with the crowd.


    Meanwhile, Bullfrog and Cat-O''-Nine were both pacing around one another in the circle. They snarled threats at each other, promising violence and calling out the other person¡¯s weaknesses or perceived faults. No one else said anything or moved, all waiting for the match to begin.


    Finally, Badb raised her hand with a small pistol clutched in it. As the anticipation grew, she waited another few seconds before pulling the trigger. The loud gunshot echoed across the dunes, preceding an even louder roar from the crowd.


    Instantly, the two combatants were going at one another. Bullfrog reared back his arm before swinging it in a wide punch. As he did so, the arm inflated to several times its normal size, a massive limb that was bulging with veins and muscles, quite grotesquely. His power allowed him to greatly increase the size of any part or parts of his body, and subsequently the strength of that part, though only for a couple seconds at a time.


    Despite his great strength in that moment, however, his swinging fist was caught by what appeared to be a whip. But it was actually part of Cat-O''-Nine¡¯s hair. It had already been long when at rest, but now about a third of it had extended out to several times its normal length and wrapped around his wrist to jerk him off balance in mid-swing. More of her hair extended out and formed itself into a club shape before slamming into the man''s face, knocking his head to the side, blood spilling out over the sand from the blow. At the sight of that, the cheers and boos grew even louder and cash was passed back and forth based on who had bet that she would get first blood.


    Bullfrog wasn''t down for the count however, far from it. As he reeled backwards, his foot lashed out, growing long and large to catch the woman in the stomach, knocking her down. His arm went back to its usual size, slipping free of the hair that had trapped it as he threw himself that way, inflating his entire body up to the size of a large truck so he could crash down on top of her.


    Cat-O¡¯-Nine, however, snapped all of her prehensile hair up, forming it into a shield that the enlarged man fell on top of. It held him for a moment, just long enough for her to roll out of the way, allowing him to crash down where she had been a second earlier. Sand was sent flying in every direction, putting out several of the torches before they were quickly relit by a man with small flickering flames in his otherwise empty eye sockets. Candlesight could see through any fire within a mile of his location, and could produce fire on anything he could see.


    By the time the torches had been re-lit, the fight was back on in earnest. And it proceeded through several more grueling minutes. Neither of the combatants were holding back at all. By the time it was over, Bullfrog lay on the ground with both of his arms broken in multiple places and his right leg bent the wrong way. Bloody lacerations covered his chest and face from being whipped by his opponent¡¯s incredibly-tough hair. He was breathing hard, barely managing to get out a wheezing, ¡°Fluffy Cakes!¡± Their signal for a surrender.


    Cat-O¡¯-Nine, who didn¡¯t look that much better, bruised, bloodied, and battered in her own right, would have fallen to her knees. But even as her limp body slumped, her hair snapped down to form a pair of extra limbs to hold her up. She spat more blood to join the liberal amounts that were already spread across the circle, and called, ¡°Baker¡¯s Bread!¡± Their signal for an accepted surrender.


    Despite the end of the fight, the cheering had gone completely silent. The air was quiet as Badb walked forward. She passed the combatants to put herself in the middle of the circle. The two blood crows flew in lazy circles over her head. Once in position, she raised her voice. ¡°Our champion remains! Cat-O¡¯-Nine reigns supreme! Bullfrog fought well, but his honor lies second to hers!¡±


    Still, there were no cheers. None were expected. Not yet. Instead, the crowd waited patiently until Badb raised both hands, pointing at the two combatants. As she did so, the birds she had made from their blood flew to each of them, one landing on Cat-O¡¯-Nine¡¯s shoulder while the other came down on Bullfrog¡¯s chest. A second later, both seemed to melt, becoming liquid once more before disappearing as they were absorbed by the person who had given the blood in the first place.


    At the very moment that their blood was absorbed back into their bodies, every injury on the two completely vanished. Just like that, they were back to normal. Or rather, back to the exact condition they had been when their blood had been drawn.


    Only then, once the perfectly-healed combatants had risen and raised their fists into the air, did the real cheering start. More money was exchanged, while the two turned to face one another. Unlike the taunts and insults that they had hurled before and during the fight, now both were grinning. They came close, embracing tightly before complimenting one another¡¯s styles and moves. There was a bit of light ribbing, but it was very clear that all anger had been part of the match. These two, like the rest of their ¡®family,¡¯ loved one another very deeply. And they all loved the matriarch of their group, Badb. That wasn¡¯t her real name, of course. She had taken the moniker after the war goddess who often took the form of a crow. She didn¡¯t literally transform into one, but her power taking blood from living beings and transforming it into crows was close enough. And her ability to give that blood back to the donors in order to shift them into the exact state they had been when she took it allowed her people, calling themselves the Garden of Badb (Or Badb¡¯s Garden), to thoroughly indulge their urge to fight as viciously as they wanted to without fear of doing or taking any lasting damage. At least, not to anyone they didn¡¯t want to.


    ¡°Blood to the Orbs!¡± Badb called, her words loudly echoed by everyone else present. As were her subsequent shouts as fists were punched repeatedly into the air, ¡°Bones to the Orbs! Victory to the Orbs!¡±


    Once their standard call for blood, bones, and victory was echoing across the dunes and off to intimidate any who happened to be within several miles, Badb fell silent. She waited several seconds for her followers to do the same. Then she spoke again. ¡°The Orbs give us strength. They give us power. And they ask one thing in return, that we give them entertainment! They have brought powers to our people so that we might give them a show! That is why we are here! It''s why we have been given these powers, this technology, this opportunity! And we will not disappoint them, will we?!¡±


    The question was met with a resounding no, even louder than the cheers and chanting had been. Only a couple dozen of the people here had actual powers, and over half of those were relatively minor. But all embraced the idea that the Orbs had appeared and granted powers to the people of this planet in order to create a sort of fighting pit for the entertainment of either the Orbs themselves, or for some other group of alien beings who had sent them. Either way, the point was the same. The Touched existed to fight.


    ¡°Blood has been spilled,¡± Badb noted while gesturing at the sand around them. ¡°The Orbs are satisfied. It''s time to return to the caravan and move out. We¡¯re moving south! Another group in Texas thinks they can challenge us!¡±


    That was met with a chorus of boos and loud remarks about what the Texas group could do with themselves. Badb let that rise a bit, enjoying the way her people reacted to the implied insult to their honor. Then she cut them off with a simple raised fist. Her metal nails pressed into her own palm enough to draw blood which in turn became an egg and then bird of her own. That bird flew into the air, joining a flock of several hundred that had hovered there just out of sight through that whole match. One bird for each member of the Garden. Should anything happen to any of them, Badb could put them back to the state they were in the last time she drew their blood. And should anything happen to her, one of the dozen different birds of her own blood would automatically return to the woman and repair her. They knew that, because others had already tried to assassinate Badb before. A mistake those would-be killers had paid for. And they didn¡¯t have blood crows to bring them back.


    The torches were all immediately extinguished at a simple glance from Candlesight, and the Garden people turned to walk to the assembled RVs, trucks, and vans in the distance. They would drive all night, then sleep through the day.


    Soon, they would reach Texas to find their new challengers. And the Orbs would be entertained.


    **********


    The Conjoined - Shades Of Maricoxi


    ¡°My arm is yours, Seeing One,¡± a thin man with a pronounced walrus mustache and balding head announced while standing at the entrance of an old warehouse. ¡°And yours, Tasting One.¡±


    ¡°Our eyes and tongue are yours, Lifting One,¡± the two short, dark-skinned men standing on either side of the door replied smoothly. Both appeared to be entirely identical twins upon first glance, though a closer inspection would reveal minor differences. Not enough to prevent them from standing in for one another in casual moments, but enough that they weren¡¯t quite as high-ranked as they would have been within the organization inhabiting the warehouse as they might have been had their appearances been even closer. Twins were well-respected by this group, identical ones even more so. And those who were truly indistinguishable by even close observation were essentially considered royalty.


    The mustached man who was passing by the almost-identical twins outside was named Kenroy Pavlin. Kenroy was, quite sadly, an only child. Worse, he had not yet met anyone within their organization who looked similar enough to him to become a partner. Those who were not siblings but could pass for being related were often paired together. But Kenroy had no one like that. He was one of those most vulgar of things, a Singular.


    Singulars like Kenroy, those who had no near-matching partner, could only be considered grunt labor for the group known formally as Shades of Maricoxi, and informally as the Conjoined. Though they worshiped the Orb which had brought powers to this planet in general, they worshiped the Abyssal Maricoxi more directly. Maricoxi was a massive, forty-foot tall ape-like creature who was capable of creating any number of duplicates of himself that could be any size all the way from a full duplicate all the way down to the size of an ordinary human. There was, however, a major stipulation that every duplicate spawned attached (conjoined) to Maricoxi himself, and would vanish the instant they broke that contact. Hence why the group who worshiped him put such emphasis on revering duplicates of one another.


    The Conjoined considered themselves a single body made up of various parts. Kenroy and other Singulars were known as ¡®Left Arms¡¯ and were the lowest of the low when it came to actual members. They were also called Lifters or Lifting Ones.


    Stepping through the door led the man to a short hallway. To the right was a set of stairs leading up to an office area, with restrooms to the left, and another doorway ahead of him. That was the way he went, though he had to step to one side at the sound of quickly-approaching footsteps. Standing out of the way, the man nodded to a group of nondescript-looking men in casual clothes marching past carrying rifles and boxes of ammunition.


    These were members who, like Kenroy, were Singular. But they had done enough, had proven themselves enough, to be promoted out of grunt labor. They were considered ¡®Right Arms¡¯ and were known as Strikers or Striking Ones, as opposed to his Left Arm/Lifter designation. The difference was between someone who performed menial labor, and someone who was a soldier. Left Arms/Lifters carried boxes, cleaned up after others, and generally performed any duty required of them. Right Arms/Strikers were the troops who protected the rest of their ¡®Body.¡¯


    Once the way was clear, the man stepped through that second doorway into the wide open warehouse floor, only to catch a football that was tossed at him from a group working on a raised truck nearby. Laughing as he barely stopped the thing from smacking into his head, Kenroy gave a sharp toss of his own to send a perfect spiral to the handsome blond man who had tossed it at him. Yet just as that guy went to catch it, another man snapped his own hand up to snatch it out of the air. ¡°Ooooh intercepted!¡±


    Both the man Kenroy had thrown the ball toward, and the one who had actually caught it, were clearly related in some way. Probably brothers within a year or two of one another, or close cousins. People like them, close relatives who were not twins, or non-relatives who had found someone who looked enough like them, were known as the Legs of the Body. Left Legs, or Runners, were those who were responsible for transportation. They drove, not only people to and fro, but also supplies anywhere they needed to go. The Conjoined had pockets of membership everywhere in the world, though they were mainly concentrated in North America and Western Europe. Left Legs/Runners were drivers, pilots, bike messengers, and more along those lines.


    Right Legs, similar to the Right Arms versus the Left Arms, were higher ranked. And, also similarly to the Right Arms, were combat-focused. Right Legs were people who drove or piloted military-grade vehicles for the cause. The Conjoined were often involved in violent disputes with other groups or local authorities, and where the Right Arms were the ground troops, the Right Legs were responsible for driving their combat vehicles.


    The close but not quite identical partners, like the men who had been outside, were always referred to by one of the five senses based on their duty. Seeing Ones, also known as Eyes, were responsible for making plans both big and small (though they did not have final say in those plans). Tasting Ones, or Tongues, were not only in charge of food (essentially chefs who ran the kitchens over the Left Arms who performed the grunt work), but also created the various poisons and beneficial tonics utilized by the Conjoined as they carried out their duties.


    Then, of course, there were the Hearing Ones/Ears, who ran the group¡¯s spy network to gather information on both friends and enemies (including all members of their own group just in case someone stepped out of line), Smelling Ones/Noses, who were responsible for tracking down anything or anyone they needed to find, and the Feeling Ones/Nerves, who managed public perception, handled bribes and blackmail of authority figures who could pose a problem, and so forth.


    As with an actual human body, all five ¡®senses¡¯ often worked in concert. Seeing Ones utilized information provided by the Hearing Ones and Feeling Ones, and made plans involving work such as directing a Tasting One to create a specific poison for an event, or sending a Smelling One to track down a specific shipment of weapons. Tasting Ones required ingredients gathered by Smelling Ones, or even used personal information provided by Hearing Ones and Feeling Ones to create the perfect meal for wealthy sympathizers who deserved wining and dining. And so on and so forth. Those who were members of the Five Senses, often referred to as the Sensorium, were the upper class. Not the rulers, but at least the rich.


    Finally, those precious few who were actual identical partners (be that two or more) were known as the Mindful Ones/Brains. These were the true leaders of the Conjoined, who steered the organization in every way and made the final decisions about everything.


    It was the brains who had steered the organization to their true understanding of who their ultimate allegiance had to lay with. They had all come together in recognition of the incredible power and divinity of the Abyssal known as Maricoxi. He was clearly the strongest of all his siblings, and understood the strength of being united. And yet, there was one above him, the one who had created him.


    The Orb. It had brought power to the world, and more importantly, had brought Maricoxi as its strongest herald. They worshiped Maricoxi as the physical embodiment of an angel, one who would eventually triumph amongst all his siblings and stand the strongest. But if he was an angel, then the Orb was their god. Some erroneously believed there were multiple orbs, just because they could appear at the same time in multiple places. But that, of course, was simply something gods were capable of doing.


    Once he reached the far side of the warehouse, Kenroy took another set of stairs leading to a separate office area from the first one. There was a guard there, another Left Arm standing at the top of the metal steps. But he stepped out of the way and allowed the other man to pass. Kenroy gave him a nod before continuing on. Left arms weren''t usually put on guard duty like that. Especially not this close to one of the inner sanctums. For one to be in such a lofty position had to mean he was close to being promoted. And with any luck, Kenroy would be as well. Especially with the information he was bringing.


    That was a thought that made the man smile to himself, before schooling his expression as he walked quickly across the metal walkway leading to the upper-level office. Two more guards, both well-trained Right Arms, stood in front of the door there. One leaned back to crack it open and announced the new arrival, then listened to the response before nodding to his partner. They, of course, looked quite similar. That was how these things worked. Even when you had no duplicate, when you were partnered with someone it would be a person who matched your appearance as closely as possible.


    Both Right Arms stepped aside, gesturing for Kenroy to go ahead. So he did, approaching the door before stepping through as one of the men tugged it open for him. Before going all the way through, he took a deep breath, told himself not to be so nervous, and then stepped into the office.


    As expected, there were three men waiting for him. All were completely identical in every way, from how they held themselves, to their physical appearance, and even to the clothes they wore. The men were each precisely six feet tall, with lightly tanned skin, narrow goatees, and perfectly-tailored black suits with red shirts and white ties. Their hair was cut to the precisely same length, and would always appear to be the same length, as it was trimmed for them every three days. Nothing was out of place, and nothing was different.


    These were the Brains, or at least one set of them. The Shades Of Maricoxi had fifteen such sets, though only six were triplets. Five others were twins, three were quadruplets, and one, the highest set among the entire organization, were quintuplets. Those were the true leaders of the Conjoined, with final say over everything that happened. Kenroy had never been in the same room as those most-holy of leaders. But he hoped to one day be that fortunate.


    And hey, if what he had to say now impressed these Brains enough, maybe that day would come sooner than he thought.


    ¡°Kenroy--¡± one Brain began.


    ¡°--Pavlin.¡± The second finished his name.


    ¡°We¡¯ve heard that you--¡± began the third.


    ¡°--have brought some interesting--¡± continued the first.


    ¡°--information that we should be aware of.¡± They all finished in chorus.


    Kenroy found himself nodding quickly. Part of him wanted to stand there and simply bask in the presence of such majesty as the trio here in front of him, but he knew there wasn''t time for that. They were incredibly busy men, and he wouldn¡¯t dream of taking advantage of their generosity. ¡°Yes, Mindful Ones. I come bearing a name. The name of a Hidden Abyssal we can take to see our Lord Maricoxi. A meal for him to gain even more strength.¡± As he said that, the man held out a card with a name written across it.


    ¡°A name?¡± The third brain echoed his words with a raised eyebrow while taking the offered card and holding it so they could all see.


    ¡°You know--¡± the first began.


    ¡°--where this person--¡± the second continued.


    ¡°--can be found?¡± the three chorused together.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Kenroy hurriedly confirmed while trying to keep his voice as even as possible, not wanting to betray his excitement that they were taking his suggestion seriously. ¡°Though we may have to be patient when it comes to extracting them.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re in Detroit.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 21

    How are people in Detroit dealing with the quarantine?


    ¡°What do you mean, three weeks?!¡± The flummoxed, annoyed voice filled the back of the rideshare car as the passenger, a heavyset man in his forties with a pale complexion and stringy dark hair, gripped the phone tighter. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, my kid¡¯s turning twelve this year. That¡¯s in two weeks, not three. Why the hell does it take so long to get a simple delivery? I¡¯m talking about a toy for a kid here, come on.¡± He paused, listening before giving a heavy sigh. ¡°Yes, yes, quarantine. But we can still get shipments, right? Inspections? So you¡¯re telling me because they have to inspect every little thing, and food and medicine have priority, stuff like toys get shoved to the back of the line? Let me guess, three weeks is your optimistic estimate. Because you--yeah that¡¯s what I thought.¡±


    Lowering his head, the man muttered, ¡°Hey, you know what¡¯s not easy? Telling a twelve-year-old her present isn¡¯t going to be here in time because of quarantine inspection rules. She¡¯s my kid, man, I thought two weeks would be enough time. And I had to save up for this shit. She¡¯s been into these racing games since she could hold a controller. She asked for the new Velocity Vortex game and I got her the game, a brand new system, and the steering wheel and pedal controller duo. I was gonna be the best dad in the world, now you¡¯re saying I have to tell her to wait? Can¡¯t you bump it forward a bit? How hard can it be to inspect a video game system? It¡¯s not like it¡¯s anything edible or--right, yeah, thanks anyway.¡± The fact that he wanted to say ¡®for nothing¡¯ was written across his face, but he held back. Instead, he simply sighed again. ¡°No, don¡¯t forward me to a supervisor, it wouldn¡¯t do any good. Yeah, you too.¡± He disconnected then, making a face before realizing the car had stopped. ¡°Oh, sorry.¡±


    ¡°No worries, man,¡± the guy in the front seat replied while shifting around to look at him with a visible wince. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re not having the best day.¡±


    Snorting, the pale man retorted, ¡°Yeah, tell me about it. Now I get to go home and tell my wife that we need to come up with some sort of placeholder thing. No way can we just not give our kid a present on her birthday.¡± He was already typing on his phone, sending over the tip and accepting payment for the ride as he opened his door to get out. ¡°Anyway, thanks for the lift.¡±


    ¡°Hey, hang on a sec.¡± The driver fumbled with something in his glove box, then passed back a card with a number written on it. ¡°I¡¯ve got a buddy, Adrian Perez. He used to do this gig too, but he ahh, he moved up in the world. Races cars for Ten Towers now. Anyway, you said your kid¡¯s into that sort of thing, right? I know Adrian, he¡¯s got little siblings he¡¯s been taking care of. You call him, I know he¡¯ll be totally up for taking your kid for a ride around the track a few times. That¡¯s gotta be worth waiting a week for the game, right?¡±


    Looking surprised by the offer as he took the card, the man stared at his driver for a moment. ¡°Are you serious? This is for real?¡± He was clearly worried about something this good for his daughter being dangled and then yanked away.


    The driver smiled. ¡°Yeah, totally for real. That number should get you right to his cell. Just tell him Billy Donahan said you should get in touch and explain what¡¯s going on. I¡¯ll send him a text too, as a heads up. But either way, he''ll definitely be up for it. You can talk about the whole thing and probably go see him at the track whenever he''s free to hash out the details.¡± The guy shrugged then. ¡°I mean, it''s not like they''ve got a lot of competitions coming up. They''re just as stuck in the city as we are. Hell, if I know Adrian, he''ll talk the other racers into having some sort of exhibition match for her.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God.¡± The man held the card tightly and replied, ¡°If I was the type, I''d absolutely hug you right now. Thanks. Just--thanks.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± came the easy response. ¡°I mean, hell, with everything going on right now, those of us who are still sane need to stick together, right?¡±


    The two men exchanged a few more words before the rider stepped out and the driver pulled away to get back to work. He drove several blocks, glancing toward the energy gauge on his console. Billy felt a little bad for the drivers he knew who were still relying on gasoline. The stations were getting shipments through, but prices were almost a dollar higher than they had been before the quarantine. Gas-powered cars had already been on their way out thanks to all the improvements in electrical power and a few other Touched-Tech advancements, and right now were probably only about half or less of the cars on the road. But half was still a lot to rely on increasingly rare and expensive shipments of gasoline.


    It was getting pretty late, but he wasn¡¯t ready to turn in just yet. Pulling over at the nearest energy station, he plugged in, flashed his card against the chip reader, and then sat on his hood scrolling through his phone while waiting about five minutes for it to finish charging. While zoning out like that, Billy didn''t pay attention to the people coming and going from the nearby shop until raised voices drew his gaze that way. The manager was standing outside loudly arguing with a delivery driver.


    ¡°You have to be kidding me! Two cases?! What am I supposed to do with two cases? That''ll be sold out before the sun comes up tomorrow! We¡¯ve been waiting a week and a half for the shipment and all you''ve got is two cases?¡±


    Visibly grimacing, the delivery man shook his head and took his hat off to fan himself. ¡°Look, dude, I don''t make the rules. You know everything''s delayed and slowed down with this quarantine shit, and there''s a bunch of other shops buying this stuff too. All I know is my boss sends out the list of who gets what. Your thing says two cases, right here.¡± He held his phone up for the manager to read the screen. ¡°That¡¯s your address, the shop name, your customer ID. Right next to it, ¡®two cases.¡¯ You got a problem with that, you''ll have to take it up with him.¡±


    The manager called and promised he would, then turned around to stalk back into the shop, letting the door slam shut behind him. When the delivery driver looked around, Billy gave him a sympathetic salute, then looked down at his phone as another fare opportunity popped up. Checking to see that his car was charged, he accepted the offer and disconnected the cord before hopping back in to head out.


    This new fare was about a half mile away, so he used the time to dictate a text to send to Adrian, letting his old friend know what was going on with the birthday dad. Then he pulled up in front of what turned out to be a doctor''s office. Normally, he¡¯d think that was odd since it was already long past most business hours. But with the quarantine going on, many offices were working extended or odd times in order to accommodate everyone. Especially doctors, with the health concerns around this whole bioweapon thing.


    An elderly woman approached, so he hopped out and helped her get into the back seat. As he took the wheel once more, she asked if he would mind stopping by the late-night pharmacy on the way back to her house. Billy assured her he didn''t mind at all and headed that way. While they were driving, he struck up a conversation and found that her name was Betty. She lamented about how late it already was, the fact that she¡¯d had to get an appointment at almost ten o¡¯clock at night, holding up the prescription script she had been given while explaining that her doctor had told her the medicine she''d been taking for twenty years was out at the moment, so he had to put her on something else for the time being. She was worried about what sort of side effects it would have, and whether she''d have the energy she needed to take care of the teenage granddaughter who was staying with her since both of her parents had been caught outside the quarantine line on vacation.


    Once they got to the store, Billy helped her out and made sure she made it inside, then waited around by the doors. He watched as a group of teenagers skating around in circles on the far side of the lot did a few tricks, clearly showing off for some girls who were watching. After a minute of that, a man approached from a school bus parked nearby and called out for everyone to get back on board so they could head for the motel. Which was met with a chorus of groans and complaints.  Billy took another look at the bus and saw the name of a school district from somewhere in northern Michigan. These people didn''t even live here in Detroit. At least not normally. They had clearly been visiting on a school trip and got stuck here when the quarantine started. How many students were there? How many chaperones did they have who were trying to keep all these visiting students under control through all this shit? Grimacing at the thought, Billy shook his head. He definitely didn''t envy those people, that was for sure.


    Before long, the woman came back, and he helped her into the car before driving her home. They talked a little more about Betty¡¯s new medicine, and he gave her his number, telling the woman to call him if she needed another ride to the doctor or the pharmacy, so she wouldn''t have to wait for some other driver. She thanked and tipped him extensively, then Billy helped her into the house. It was a small, one-story place with only two bedrooms. The one in the back had apparently been her son¡¯s while he was growing up before being turned into a sewing room. Now it had gone back to being a bedroom again, this time for her granddaughter. He heard all about it when she insisted he come in and sit down for some lemonade. Not that he was going to object. She tipped very well, and it was pretty good lemonade to boot. Besides, it was late enough by now that he was probably about done for the night anyway. It was time to go home and relax.


    He sat for a few minutes while he let the woman vent all about her fears. She was getting older, it was harder to get around, and she just didn''t know if she could keep up with an excitable teenager like this. Especially not if the quarantine was going to go on much longer. The girl, whose name was apparently Yasmine, was fourteen years old and chafed against being stuck with her grandmother. She wanted to stay back at her old home, but that was in an apartment building on the fourth floor, and there was absolutely no way Betty could make it up that many stairs every day.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    They were still talking about that as the front door banged open loudly enough to make both of them jump, and the girl in question came running in. She was a tall, thin girl with short dark hair and a set of thick glasses. As she came charging into the kitchen while calling for her grandmother, the girl suddenly skidded to a stop when she saw the stranger sitting there.


    Quickly, Betty introduced them before gently chiding her granddaughter for slamming the door and running through the house with her shoes on. Not to mention being out that late. She had thought the girl was in her room.


    Yasmine, however, quickly spoke over that as soon as she was assured that Billy wasn¡¯t some sort of home invader. ¡°Never mind that, Grams, have you seen the news?! Wait, why isn¡¯t the TV on? What¡¯ve you been doing?!¡±


    ¡°Talking with my new friend here,¡± Betty informed her with a wry voice. ¡°You know, speaking face to face? You should try that sometime, it¡¯s such a--¡±


    ¡°I said never mind that!¡± Yasmine interrupted, before catching herself. ¡°I mean--sorry, Grams. But come on!¡± She turned, fumbling with the remote sitting on the nearby counter before flipping on the kitchen television. ¡°Look!¡±


    Billy and Betty both turned their attention to the television, which was showing what at first just looked like a bright glowing white rectangle in the middle of the city. Only belatedly did the man recognize it as a building surrounded by some sort of energy shield. Beside him, Betty blurted, ¡°What? That''s your family¡¯s apartment!¡±


    Yasmine¡¯s head bobbed quickly. ¡°Seriously, you guys didn¡¯t hear anything about this? The Scions are in there!¡±


    That made Betty give a double-take, a sound of disbelief and horror escaping her. Then she rose from her chair and pulled her granddaughter into a firm hug. ¡°You weren¡¯t there, were you?¡±


    ¡°No, Grams,¡± the girl assured her. ¡°I was with Sarah and Walter. We were just hanging out. But some people started posting about that. What if--what if we¡­¡± She visibly swallowed. ¡°What if I¡­ I¡¯d convinced you to stay there instead of here? We would¡¯ve been¡­¡±


    Betty embraced the girl, shaking her head. ¡°Hush now, none of that. We weren¡¯t there. And neither are your parents. You¡¯re safe.¡±


    Sensing that he needed to give them some time alone, Billy rose and downed the last of his lemonade. He thanked Betty once more and reminded her to call him if she needed any more rides before heading out. On his way, the man glanced at the television. Shit, as if everything else that was already happening wasn¡¯t enough, now the Scions had taken over a whole apartment building? What the hell were they doing? He had no idea. But he did know one thing.


    Shit in this city was about to get even worse.


    ***************


    Cassidy and Paige talking about their memories with Anthony while on the way back from Utah


    Sipping at a cherry slushie while sitting with her legs folded under herself in the passenger seat, Cassidy took a deep breath before looking over at Paige as the other girl focused on the freeway ahead of them. Both had been quiet for some time, lost in their own thoughts while Qwerty napped in a nest of towels in the back of the van. Now, the smaller girl hesitantly spoke up in a quiet voice to avoid disturbing their new friend. ¡°Do you remember--wait, of course you do. Sorry, I was just thinking about the time we¡­ we went to the movies with Anthony.¡±


    Paige, for her part, held the wheel just a little tighter as a very small smile found its way to her face. It was a smile both of fondness for remembering good moments, and of pain for what those moments had eventually led to. ¡°We had to sneak off the grounds. You guys had been telling me all about how much fun actual movies in a real public theater were. We tried watching some of them in his family¡¯s theater room, but it wasn¡¯t the same. Then we got our chance, when¡­ when Pittman and Anthony¡¯s father were gone. They had to take the helicopter to the hospital to check on something for a few hours, so we snuck out and took one of those rideshares to the mall. I was¡­¡±


    ¡°Overwhelmed,¡± Cassidy finished for her, casting a tiny grin that way. ¡°Totally overwhelmed. You wanted to run into every single store and look around. You wanted to taste all the food. Remember the candy shop?¡±


    Paige blushed visibly, shifting in her seat as she confirmed, ¡°Oh, I remember. How could I forget? They made chocolate treats right there in the store. It was my first time smelling something like that. I just--it was a lot.¡±


    ¡°We bought a lot,¡± Cassidy amended with a light snicker. ¡°We bought a whole bag of candy to take into the theater with us so you could taste all of it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Paige replied casually, ¡°and then you bribed the usher twenty bucks to let us take it in there with us.¡±


    Cassidy shrugged. ¡°We still bought some stuff at the concession stand anyway. You needed the full experience. And the full experience included a huge tub of popcorn and one of these for each of us.¡± She held up the slushie pointedly. ¡°I got pineapple, you got blue raspberry, and Anthony got¡­ cherry.¡± The girl glanced down at her own red frozen treat briefly, biting her lip. ¡°I don¡¯t think I chose cherry that much before¡­ because¡­ because Anthony got it. It was Anthony¡¯s and I always wanted to get something different from him because we shared anyway. He got cherry and I got whatever wasn¡¯t cherry. But ever since¡­¡± She swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat, voice shaking a bit. ¡°Ever since that happened, I¡¯ve liked to get cherry whenever they have it. I just never knew why.¡±


    While thinking about that, Cassidy held the cup out to the other girl. ¡°We shared everything during the movie though.¡±


    Leaning over to take a sip through the straw, Paige smiled a bit more. ¡°Yeah, we kept passing everything back and forth. You guys said I had to taste it all. And Anthony was pouring M&M¡¯s in with the popcorn. He said that was the best way to eat it.¡±


    Snickering as another memory came to mind, Cassidy pointed out, ¡°And you thought all the previews were separate movies and asked if we had to pay for each of them.¡±


    ¡°Can you blame me?¡± Paige shot back. ¡°They give you so much detail in movie trailers it might as well just be a condensed version of the full movie. And when you put them all together the trailers last like twenty minutes.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what Anthony used to say,¡± Cassidy pointed out. ¡°Wait, he¡­ he said that in the theater when you thought it was time to go after the first few trailers.¡±


    Paige gave a slow nod, blinking a few times while staring at the road ahead of them. ¡°He was right about that. He was right about a lot of things.¡±


    ¡°Like what movie we should watch,¡± Cassidy put in with a fond smile. ¡°I thought we should see this big scary movie since we were all by ourselves, but he said we should go to a comedy. An animated comedy. I thought he was being silly because he didn¡¯t want to see the scary movie, but he said that would be the best one for you to see for your first big movie in a theater. He¡­ he was right about that too.¡±


    ¡°You would''ve had to bribe the usher a second time to let us into the scary movie anyway,¡± Paige pointed out with a snicker.


    ¡°Three times,¡± Cassidy corrected. ¡°He was one of Simon¡¯s friends, so I would''ve had to bribe him to let us in, and then again to not tell Simon. But I would¡¯ve, if Anthony hadn¡¯t convinced me that you should see that Pixar movie instead.¡±


    Paige sat back a bit in her seat, staring at the cars they were passing for a few seconds before quietly announcing, ¡°That''s my favorite movie, you know? Just because it was the first one I saw in the theater. No, because it was the only one I saw in the theater with both of you. We didn¡¯t get many chances to sneak off the grounds like that.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve got a sequel coming out soon,¡± Cassidy noted thoughtfully. ¡°We should go see it together. You and me.¡± She blushed immediately after saying that, backtracking with a quick, ¡°I mean, if you want to--we don¡¯t have t--if the memories are--¡±


    Paige interrupted. ¡°The memories are going to hurt. But I think it¡¯s worth it. Memories are worth it, even if they¡¯re painful. Because they¡¯re not all painful. Even the ones that hurt are¡­ better than not having them.¡±


    Wincing at the thought of the alternative that she had already lived through, Cassidy gave a slow nod. ¡°We''ll go for Anthony. We''ll get everything we had that first time and we¡¯ll sit in the same seats. Maybe I can even bribe the usher again, just for old time¡¯s sake.¡±


    Grinning across the seat at the other girl, Paige put in, ¡°Do you think Simon¡¯s friend would be suspicious if you asked him to do his job again for a few minutes? You know, just to be as authentic as possible?¡±


    Both girls giggle despite themselves at the thought, before Cassidy took another sip of her drink and mused, ¡°I remember we made ourselves sick by the time we got out of the movie. Anthony and me had to throw up, and you stood guard inside the restroom because¡­¡± She shifted, eyes widening a bit at the realization. ¡°Because I went into the boy¡¯s restroom with him. I didn''t even think about it. I just went in with him like that was where I belong. Because I felt like I did belong there right then. Not always. Sometimes I went into the other restroom and--sometimes I---¡±


    ¡°You said having signs and divided rooms was stupid because you should just go to whatever one had an empty toilet to use,¡± Paige reminded her. ¡°You¡­ you said ¡®I don¡¯t want--¡±


    ¡°¡®I don¡¯t want to stop and think about how I¡¯m feeling right then before going to the toilet,¡¯¡± Cassidy finished for her. ¡°I thought putting labels on everything and dividing them by gender was stupid.¡± She was quiet again, looking away while a myriad of thoughts played across her face before adding, ¡°You know what, I still do. Sometimes I feel more masculine and sometimes I feel more feminine. And neither of those should dictate what door I have to walk through so I can pee. Hell, sometimes I don¡¯t feel like either. What am I supposed to do then, pee outside?¡±


    Snorting at that, Paige replied, ¡°It can be pretty complicated sometimes. Or all the time. But¡­ but I¡¯m just glad you remember that and¡­ and him.¡±


    Swallowing hard, Cassidy wordlessly passed the slushie over and then sat there in silence for almost a full mile of freeway before finally speaking again. ¡°Yeah, me too. I never really had a chance to figure out exactly who¡­ and what I was back then, not really. But I will now. I¡¯ll figure it out. And I do know one thing I am. No, two. I¡¯m Anthony¡¯s friend. It doesn¡¯t matter how long he¡¯s been gone, I¡¯ll always be his friend.


    ¡°And yours.¡±

 On The Clock 28-03

    Speaking quickly, I explained to the others what was on the card and what I was thinking. Which, of course, meant telling Rubi about the Ministry. For the moment, I kept it a little more vague as far as who they all were. I just told her that the people in charge were my family and that I had found out about all this when I got my powers.


    Needless to say, she had a lot of questions. not to mention thoughts about her brother and the girl who might as well have been her sister getting involved in this sort of thing. But she didn''t seem angry at the rest of us. It took me a minute, but I belatedly realized she was more angry at the situation. She was angry with my parents and the rest of the Ministry, and wanted to give them a pretty firm and loud piece of her mind. Which just made me think I needed to reiterate how dangerous the whole thing was.


    But, of course, now wasn''t the time for that. Promising that we''d get into more details later, I held the card up once more. ¡°So, all we have to do is call them.¡±


    The older girl shook her head uncertainly. ¡°Is that a good idea? Just¡­¡± She trailed off and held up both hands before sitting down on an old copy machine. ¡°Let me think for a second. This is just¡­ a lot. You''re all saying that there is a massive criminal organization spread throughout every place of power and authority on both sides of the law through the entire city. This Ministry has people in the police, the mayor''s office, the hospitals, probably all the utilities so if they can control the electricity, the phone companies, internet suppliers, and probably anything else they might need to handle any situation that comes up.¡±


    She was clearly thinking out loud. ¡°Some of those people must be important, but a lot of them are probably just regular old employees that are in the right place at the right time. Just a guy in an office somewhere with the right key or the right phone number. And they have influence over every Fell-Touched gang in the city on top of that?¡±


    ¡°Almost all of them,¡± Paige pointed out. ¡°They don''t have any control over the Scions. Which is the whole problem right now. They can''t stop this their usual way. Especially not¡­¡± She paused and glanced over at me.


    Right, this one was harder to navigate. And it hadn''t exactly been easy so far. I took a breath, glancing over at Murphy and Roald. They were the ones who had made the choice to unmask themselves to her when she showed up. Even though my mask and helmet were still on, they could interpret my body language well enough by that point to understand. Both of them looked at one another, then turned back to me and nodded. They knew what it meant, what I was asking. And they confirmed that they trusted her.


    And why wouldn''t they? It was pretty clear by that point that Rubi had absolutely no connection to the Ministry. If she had, she would have gone to them directly with the information. Besides, she was an aspiring law student whose life had been completely torn off track by the incarceration of her parents, forcing her to put her entire life on hold to take care of her siblings. If she¡¯d had any connection to the Ministry, they would''ve done something about that by now. If nothing else, they¡¯d want to have her in their debt. Ironically, the very thing that made her life so hard made it absolutely clear that she was completely innocent when it came to this.


    Absorbing all of that, I took a step that way. Even though I''d already made the decision on my end, I wasn''t going to do so for her. ¡°Rubi,¡± I started, ¡°I need to ask you something very serious. Do you want to be involved in this? Because right now, with what you know, it''s already dangerous. But if we keep going, you''re going to know even more. You''re going to learn secrets you can''t ever unlearn. I mean, actually, you probably could unlearn them. The problem is, the only way to do so is for my parents to have their friend erase your memories. And if it''s gotten that far, things are really bad.¡±


    Rubi¡¯s gaze met mine. She was quiet for a moment before simply replying, ¡°Murphy and Roald are already involved in this, pretty heavily. Something tells me they know everything. I--¡± She stopped suddenly, eyes widening. ¡°Wait, is this what happened to Tyson?¡± She was already standing up off the copy machine, eyes glancing toward Murphy while she brought up the girl¡¯s deceased brother. ¡°They said it was just a drug related drive-by, but if they--¡±


    Murphy spoke up quickly. ¡°They helped him get away. I mean, when we were chasing him. Um, at least at first.¡± She went on to give the quick rundown of what had happened and what we were able to piece together about the Ministry taking him out of town and simply executing him.


    Rubi shook her head. ¡°Is that supposed to make me feel better? Yeah, he was a piece of shit who deserved to rot in prison for what he did.¡± She glanced over at Murphy, biting her lip before pushing on. ¡°But he didn''t deserve extrajudicial execution. The law exists for a reason, and it''s not for those people to decide who gets to live and who dies. He deserved to sit in a courtroom and be judged properly. That''s how our entire society is supposed to work.¡±


    Yeah, I could definitely tell this was a girl who wanted to be a lawyer. Giving a little nod, I spoke up. ¡°Believe me, we know. But like I said, if you get more involved than you already are, it''s not really something you can just walk away from. Right now, we''re just trying to help as many people as we can without being part of the Ministry. We''re not ready to do anything about them, not directly. They''re too strong, they''ve got too many people in too many places. We just have to take it one day at a time. And right now, all our days are taken up with this plague. And now, with the whole Scion thing.¡± I gave a heavy sigh. ¡°We really need about twice as many hours in the day.¡±


    Rubi was watching me for a moment before she realized, ¡°Hold on, you want to tell me who they are. Your parents, I mean. That¡¯s what all this is about, why you¡¯re trying to make sure I get how serious it is. Wait, Murphy said the Ministry couldn''t handle this their usual way, especially not now. Why would it be especially not now? It''s because something changed, something¡¯s different.¡± She went silent for another couple seconds, then spun on her heel to take a few agitated steps off one way, before spinning again to come back. ¡°The people in charge of the Ministry would have to be very powerful and important. And the only real reason for Murphy to say that things are different now would be if they weren''t in control anymore, at least not the way they have been. You''ve been trying to solve this plague thing so much you left town completely in the middle of all this. I don''t really know all the details, but you left for days to get this machine over here. You had to be pretty desperate to fix the people who were affected by that attack. Because your parents, the ones in charge of the Ministry, are two of those people. They''re able to do all the stuff you''re talking about because they''re two of the richest people in the country. Your parents are Sterling and Elena Evans. You''re Cassidy Evans, their daughter!¡± She made that last announcement dramatically, spinning suddenly on her heel to stare at me.


    Okay, uh, wow. If I ever got into legal trouble, I was kind of hoping she would have her law license by then, because I totally wanted to hire her. She''d sniff out the truth in seconds. Taking that in, I managed a somewhat weak, ¡°You think pretty fast.¡±


    Rubi, in turn, blushed and shook her head. ¡°Oh, not that fast. I had to use my power.¡±


    That made me double-take. A lot had been going on in a short time, but this was news to me. Everything we''d been saying had been information coming from our side. ¡°Wait, power?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, the others were--you guys didn¡¯t hear about that yet.¡± So, she quickly explained what had happened to her fully. Which led to her explaining how she knew what would hurt Pencil. I''d been so stuck in figuring out who we could send the information to that I''d briefly forgotten to find out what that information actually was. Which was a little embarrassing, but in my defense, there was a lot going on.


    Still, hearing about what had actually happened and what the girl was capable of made me reel backwards a bit. ¡°Okay, hold on, hold on. You freeze time and then repeat things over and over again with a bunch of different versions of yourself, and then all that is multiplied together when you unfreeze time and you get the benefit of all the actions taken by every incarnation of yourself while time was frozen? So you did that with Pencil and actually hurt him just by punching him.¡±


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    Her head bobbed up and down quickly. ¡°Exactly, I don''t know the details, but I''m pretty sure he''s not completely immune to everything all the time. He''s got a limited number of immunities or something. I don''t know if it''s separate immunities that have their own charges or if it''s a single shield or something but either way you just have to keep attacking. All I know is that he can just be hurt if you hit him enough times.¡±


    My mind was spinning out. Was it really that simple? That was impossible, wasn''t it? Surely he had been hit a bunch of times while carrying out his schemes. But on the other hand, if it took dozens or even hundreds of hits to actually break through his power, maybe that really was his weakness? It had always seemed unfair that he ended up with what appeared to be complete and total immunity to any and all damage whatsoever. But maybe he hadn''t. Maybe there really was this secret to it and he had been able to hide that for this long. But if he had, and then this nobody girl had managed to knock his tooth out? He would realize that she could either figure out his secret, or that her power simply trumped his. And that meant¡­


    ¡°He''ll be after you. They all will. They¡¯ll rip the whole city apart looking for you. The only reason they haven''t already is because he''s obsessed with helping his sister. They''ve probably got some of their people looking for you anyway. You can''t go home.¡±


    Rubi blinked at that. ¡°They don''t know who I am. It''s not like I shouted my address at him.¡±


    ¡°It''s still not worth the risk,¡± Paige agreed with me. ¡°If he managed to get pictures of you from a security camera, or described you well enough and someone happened to figure out who you are, they could be waiting for you. At the very least, we should make absolutely certain they don''t know anything, and we can''t do that right now. Not with everything else going on.¡±


    Reaching up, I took my helmet and mask off. It was the least I could do in that moment. ¡°Look, you''re right. You''re right about everything you guessed so far. But you''re saying you used your power just to think?¡±


    Staring at me as though surprised by my appearance even though she''d already guessed it, Rubi swallowed visibly. ¡°Um, yeah, I just froze time and sat there thinking for a few minutes. It gave me time to work through all of it in my head.¡±


    Boy did I wish I had that sort of power. It would''ve been nice to make everything completely stop at any point so I could think. Still, I was glad someone like her had ended up with this power if it had to be anyone. Especially considering the information she had just dropped into our laps.


    While I was still thinking about that with my helmet tucked under my arm, Sierra spoke up. ¡°Well, I guess I can take this off." She tugged her own mask up, making Rubi do a double-take.


    ¡°Wait a second, what are you, her stunt double?¡±


    That made me scoff, offended. ¡°Hey, if anything, I''d be her stunt double.¡±


    ¡°No yeah, she''s right.¡± Sierra was nodding casually. ¡°She''s even more insane than I am when it comes to wild shit.¡±


    She and Paige gave a quick rundown about who and what they were. And yeah, this was definitely a lot. We were throwing way too much at this poor girl already, and now we were adding in the whole Biolem explanation? I wouldn''t have blamed the girl if her head had exploded. Or if she had just thrown up her hands and walked away.


    Of all people, it was Qwerty who spoke to her next while she was trying to digest all that. The little squirrel-parrot bounded over to sit right at her feet before speaking up. ¡°It''s a lot to take in, huh? I only figured out how to think a few weeks ago, and this is a lot of thinking.¡±


    Rubi looked down before kneeling to put her hands out for the little guy to clamber onto. Then she rose and asked, ¡°Could you guys give us a second?¡± With that, she turned and walked to the opposite side of the room so the two of them could talk in private.


    Which left the rest of us looking at one another. We had our own little conversation about what was going on and what we still needed to do. Eventually, the other two came back. Rubi seemed a little calmer. ¡°Right, so you guys have been dealing with a lot, that''s for sure. And I get why you would have complicated feelings.¡± She was looking at me. ¡°Whatever else your parents are responsible for, they''re still your parents. And right now they''re sick. We need to do something about that. We need to help them. And the best way to do that is this plan you''ve got. I mean, maybe it''s not really the best plan, but I don''t exactly have anything better. Every instinct I have is saying to take it to the authorities, but I''m not that na?ve. I mean, I like the law, but I know it can be compromised in the best of situations, let alone something like this. So yeah, I understand why you''d have mixed emotions, and why we can¡¯t just tell the authorities.


    ¡°So, that''s a lot to get into. But if you think this Ministry is the best choice for how to get this information to the right people, then I guess I trust your judgment. You''re right, they¡¯ve gotta want things to go back to normal so they can keep making money. This is bad business for them. Not to mention it''s a distraction from helping their leaders. But¡­ do you really think they¡¯ll be able to do anything if your parents are out of commission?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll have capable people to take over for them,¡± I replied, trying to keep the hitch out of my voice at the thought of what would happen if that was a permanent take-over. ¡°They''ll know how to tell everyone and spread the news to the right people in a way that will actually help.¡±


    Everyone else agreed, so I made the call. But I didn''t just tell the person who answered the phone everything. I told him, some unknown guy, who I was (the Paintball part, not the Cassidy part) and that Robert Parson had given me the number. I told him I had vital information about Pencil that they needed to know, but that I needed to give it to someone in person. He, in turn, promised to get back to me with a place to meet, before disconnecting.


    So, we were waiting for that. In the meantime, we had to get this machine back to the shop so Wren could look it over thoroughly and make sure it was ready to grab Pittman. Then we could worry about getting the cure out of him, one way or another.


    It really was nice to be back in the city, no matter what the circumstances were. Especially since Rubi¡¯s whole situation had been at least somewhat addressed, and Qwerty had gotten over his initial nervousness. The little guy kept bouncing from one person''s head or shoulder to another, asking questions and pointing out everything he saw even as we loaded the machine into the van that Fred had brought. To say nothing of how many questions he had on the drive back to the shop. It was the middle of the night and dark, but he still pointed out dozens of things and places he wanted to check out. It was kind of adorable. And I was right about him fitting in. He even managed to distract Peyton a little bit from worrying about her mother. And, I was pretty sure, distracted Rubi as well.


    Yeah, if so much hadn¡¯t already been going on, I still would¡¯ve been reeling from that whole thing. She knew who I was, she came with her own power and the secret to actually hurting Pencil, and¡­ yeah. It was a lot. Somehow, the fact that it came on top of everything else actually made it easier for me to just roll with it. This was just another thing to add onto the pile. I would figure out how to deal with it later. And, I was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t done asking questions either. We were all just trying to roll with this as best as we could.


    Finally, we made it back to the building and began packing the machine up into Wren¡¯s workspace. Once it was all in place and she was going over it with a fine-toothed comb, I found myself up on the roof, pointing out various parts of the neighborhood to Qwerty as our new little friend sat on top of my head. Peyton was up here too, while Murphy and Roald had a little private time with Rubi, and Paige and Sierra worked with Wren to see how long it would take to get things ready.


    ¡°This place is even bigger than you said!¡± Qwerty enthused, bouncing about a bit on my head. ¡°I wanna see all of it!¡±


    ¡°You will,¡± I promised. ¡°We¡¯ll take you to see everything, anywhere you want to go, as soon as we get a chance. First we just have to get through this.¡±


    As I said that, my gaze moved to Peyton. She was standing by the edge of the roof, arms folded as she stared off into the darkness. She seemed to sense me looking, and turned her gaze to meet mine. After a moment, she spoke, voice soft. ¡°We have to save them, Cass. My mom¡­ your parents¡­ all those people. We can¡¯t let them--we can¡¯t lose them. I¡­ I can¡¯t lose her.¡±


    Qwerty jumped off my shoulder and went to stand on the edge of the roof himself while I stepped that way, taking the girl¡¯s hand. ¡°We¡¯ll save them, Peyton. We¡¯ll get the cure out of Pittman and make sure the Scions don¡¯t kill anyone else. We know how to hurt Pencil now, and we¡¯ll make sure the right people know too. They¡¯re all gonna be okay.¡± I managed to say all of that without letting my voice crack or my own fear show. Now if only I felt as confident as I sounded. There were so many people in danger right now. Bobby, my parents, Peyton¡¯s mom, Paige¡¯s (and sort of Sierra¡¯s) adopted sister, not to mention all those innocent people. Even Rubi, Murphy, and Roald were in danger if the Scions identified the girl who had hurt their leader. Was it even remotely possible that we could get through all of this and not lose any of them?


    The truth was, there were so many ways this could end badly. It was like we were walking on a tightrope between two skyscrapers, with potential tragedy looming right below our feet.


    And the wind was picking up.

 On The Clock 28-04

    It didn''t take the Ministry long to get back to me after that. Soon, my phone was buzzing and I looked at the caller ID. It simply read, ¡®Answering Requested Meeting¡¯ where the number and name should have been. Which was a little impressive, but honestly, them having that much control over the phone system wasn''t exactly surprising. I was just glad I was still using the phone that Wren had set up to bounce the signal all over the place. They wouldn''t be able to track where we were if they tried. And even if they were being relatively ¡®polite¡¯ at the moment, I would have been completely shocked if they weren¡¯t doing everything they could to get information about us, just in case. As far as I knew, they didn¡¯t have anyone embedded in our group yet.


    Well, technically, they did have a very important person to the Ministry in this group. They just didn''t know about me yet. And I was determined to keep it that way.


    To that end, I made sure my voice changer was active before answering. ¡°Yo, if this is that pizza delivery dude again, I told you to stop being such a wuss and just climb that fire escape. It''s not that far to the roof.¡± Yeah, maybe it was silly or even dumb to answer that lightly considering everything that was happening, but this whole thing made me nervous, and making jokes helped ease my own tension. That might¡¯ve been a condition I should have talked to someone about, come to think of it.


    There was a brief pause before a voice spoke simply. ¡°You claim to have information regarding the situation with the Scions.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, more of an invitation--or possibly an order-- to explain further. Which¡­ was it weird that I immediately wanted to tell this guy to ask nicely? Yeah, we absolutely did not have time for me to play games like that. Not with so many lives at stake and Pencil apparently right on the brink.


    So, I pushed instinct aside and replied, ¡°Yes, but like I said before, I won''t talk about it over the phone. It''s too dangerous. We need to meet somewhere. And don''t send anyone you don''t trust one hundred percent. I need to talk to someone with some authority.¡± Belatedly, I added, ¡°I promise, this is something you¡¯ll want to hear.¡±


    Once again, there was a moment of silence from the other end. It dragged on long enough that I was starting to worry that the call had dropped, and I had just begun to take the phone away from my ear to check when the voice came back. ¡°First, prove you are who you say you are. Do you remember the names of the Touched who were searching for you the first night you encountered our people?¡±


    Grimacing at the thought, I replied, ¡°Two-Step and Lastword.¡± Of course I remembered. But that also implied that they knew I had seen them. Which¡­ yeah, okay, that just made sense. They had to figure I had hidden myself somewhere and managed to watch the people looking for me. It was basic common sense. I didn''t have to freak out about it, no matter how much I hated the idea of them putting anything about me together at all. I didn¡¯t even want them to think about me. But that, of course, was completely impossible.


    ¡°Good,¡± came the response. ¡°Go to the roof of that building, the one where you first encountered our people. Your contact will meet you as soon as you arrive.¡±


    Oh. Oh great, of course. They wanted me to meet at the motel where this entire thing had started. Fantastic. That was exactly what I wanted to do right now. Still, I pushed down that bit of bile that tried to rise in my throat and replied, ¡°I¡¯ll be there soon. I¡¯d tell your guy to bring a pizza while he¡¯s at it, but honestly I probably wouldn¡¯t eat it anyway. I bet you guys have shit taste in pizza.¡±


    With that, I disconnected and turned to look at Peyton, with Qwerty sitting on top of her head. Rubi, Murphy, and Roald were up here too, having joined us while I was on the phone. All of them were watching me expectantly, as I took a deep breath. ¡°Right, okay then. Qwerty, you should stay here and go help Wren, Paige, and Sierra work on the machine. I have no idea how long she¡¯ll be able to work before she needs to crash, but maybe your power can spot something important. Murphy, Roald--¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re going.¡± That was Roald himself, standing in front of his older sister as though he was the one protecting her. ¡°If you want Rubi to talk to the Ministry people, we¡¯re going to help make sure they don¡¯t¡­ you know¡­¡±


    ¡°Take her,¡± Murphy finished for him, voice flat. ¡°Because maybe they get some big idea about trying to take more information out of her, or they think her power is too useful.¡±


    ¡°Guys, it¡¯s okay.¡± Rubi herself spoke up, her voice immediately falling into that ¡®big sister¡¯ tone, though it was still clearly a bit overwhelmed by this whole thing. ¡°I''m not going anywhere with them, I promise. We''re just¡­ we¡¯re just gonna give them the same information I gave you, so they can actually do something with it.¡± She hesitated before looking at me with a visible gulp. ¡°I was going to say we could just spread the word over the Internet, but that''s probably a bad idea, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    My head bobbed quickly. ¡°I mean at first thought it sounds good, but there¡¯s no way of being certain that anything we said would be listened to. They¡¯d just think it was more rumors. You¡¯ve seen how many people out there claim to have super-secret information about Touched, especially people like the Scions. And that¡¯s every day, let alone right now, with all this. We¡¯ll just look like idiots trying to get attention.¡±


    ¡°And, best case scenario, if they did believe us,¡± Rubi noted, ¡°it would just make Pencil fly off the handle even more than he already has. Right now he''s probably already close to losing it because his sister is hurt and he¡¯s worried that there¡¯s someone out there who can actually hurt him. But he doesn¡¯t know I figured out what his weakness is. He probably just thinks I¡¯m really strong or something, that I punched through his defenses. If he looks online and sees a whole bunch of people talking about how to beat his power, he might just¡­¡± She winced. ¡°... do something drastic.¡±


    She was right, of course. That was yet another reason not to simply throw this information out into the wide open ocean of the Internet. Even if it was believed, we would''ve probably just ended up making the situation worse. As soon as Pencil had nothing to lose, he would¡­ yeah, it would be bad. Plus, even if he didn¡¯t completely blow up, he would adjust his defenses, probably rely even more on staying out of sight. The best way to handle the advantage of knowing his weakness was to give that information directly to people who could actually use it to stop him. Which¡­


    ¡°You know they¡¯ll probably use this to try to kill him,¡± I pointed out in a soft voice, my eyes on the older girl. ¡°I mean, you said people deserve a trial, not an execution. But they¡¯re not going to try to catch him with this. If we tell them that shooting him enough times will eventually get through, they¡¯ll bring a machine gun and go to town.¡±


    Rubi was silent for a few seconds. She just stared at me, a wide variety of expressions crossing her face as she worked through several emotions. Finally, she gave a short nod. ¡°Yeah, and I''d prefer he be brought in. I really would. But I''m not delusional. He''s killed hundreds of people and he¡¯s responsible for even more as the leader of a gang of serial killers. I¡¯m not going to let my preferred morals completely stand in the way of stopping him from killing even more innocents. State Of Michigan v. Ellard Orvis AKA Deathspiral established that when a Fell-Touched within the state is determined to be an ongoing immediate threat to a great number of innocent lives, any person who kills them will not be subject to criminal prosecution beyond a cursory investigation. The United States v. Daniel Rhodes AKA Fastcall upheld that and several other states¡¯ similar decisions, and established that any Fell-Touched with a body count over ten who is deemed to be a current, active danger to society is fair game to be stopped by any means necessary. With, again, an investigation to ensure no more innocent lives were put at risk in the process. Legally, Pencil falls completely within all those decisions. He¡¯s killed far more than enough people, he¡¯s made it clear he¡¯ll keep killing more, he¡¯s made direct threats against innocent people recently, and it¡¯s completely within reason to believe he¡¯ll both follow through on those threats, and cause even more death as he spirals out of control if his sister¡¯s condition deteriorates. He¡¯s basically the textbook definition of ¡®all force is reasonable.¡¯¡±


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    My mouth opened, then shut before I shrugged a bit weakly. ¡°Right, you really do want to be a lawyer. For the record, when you pass the exam, I¡¯m totally retaining you. Come on, let''s get to that meeting before they start to think we were pranking them.¡±


    ¡°Wait, here.¡± Murphy held out a ski mask and pair of gloves toward the older girl. ¡°Trust me, you don¡¯t want those people to see your face or pick out your fingerprints, even if we¡¯re all being nice and friendly allies right now. Just to be on the safe side.¡±


    So, we all made sure we were suited up before moving out. Qwerty dashed back inside to join the others, with Peyton joining him to help out with the grunt work down there as much as she could while the rest of us moved closer to the edge of the roof. And I got my first real glimpse of what Rubi¡¯s power looked like. She seemed pretty nervous and awkward about it, but said she wanted to show us something. With that, she braced herself like a runner getting ready for a sprint. The next thing I knew, she was racing those last few steps before leaping. We all watched as she sailed a good forty feet from this roof to the next one, landing in a somewhat awkward roll. Murphy, Roald, and I exchanged looks before I gave them some purple and green paint, along with a shot of blue on the edge of the roof so we could all run and jump that way ourselves. As we came down all around Rubi, I asked, ¡°How many repetitions was that?¡±


    ¡°I jumped forty times,¡± she replied, expression hidden under the simple ski mask. ¡°Did you notice anything like¡­ that could give that away?¡±


    The rest of us exchanged looks before I shook my head. ¡°Nope. From our end it just looked like you ran and jumped. I''m pretty sure Pencil won''t be able to figure out exactly how you hurt him. And not knowing is probably freaking him out pretty bad. Even if he wasn¡¯t already freaking out because of his sister.¡± Part of me wanted to be glad he was having a bad day, but on the other hand, he would definitely take that out on everyone else. So I couldn''t exactly be too happy about it. He was like a rabid dog, one who needed to be taken down.


    Now that we had seen how well Rubi¡¯s power worked for jumping from roof to roof all by itself, I gave her a bit of paint so we could test that. As it turned out, the answer was pretty well. When I gave the girl a purple thumbs up across her back, she was able to make a similar jump with only fifteen repetitions instead of forty. And what¡¯s more, because she froze time to do so, she could manage multiple jumps like that all in a row without running out of paint. And when I added green for her to move faster, she said it worked even within her timestop. In other words, being sped up with green allowed her to do those repetitions more quickly. And the paint didn¡¯t wear off while time was frozen so she could keep doing it even though technically her ¡®time spent within the time-stop¡¯ was far past the ten second limit. Which didn¡¯t really affect anything in the regular world or whatever, but did allow her to do more of them without being stuck in her own frozen time for so long.


    We didn''t really have a lot of time to explore how well that worked, not with the representative from the Ministry sitting around waiting for us at the motel. Still, it meant we all got there pretty quickly since she caught on to the whole jumping from roof to roof thing so easily. Or maybe it was just that she had plenty of private time while using her own power to get the idea. Either way, she was actually really getting into it, whooping now and then with a particularly long jump. Something told me she¡¯d been under a fair bit of stress lately--or maybe for quite awhile, and this was one of the first times she¡¯d actually been able to let it out. She came off as the responsible older sister who wanted to be a law student at first, but then she had a chance to cut loose a little bit and it was like she was almost as wild and impulsive as¡­ well, me.


    And if she liked this sort of thing, boy did I have a few suggestions for her. Maybe once we were through all this important stuff, I could pull her aside and give her some ideas about how she could really relieve that stress. Some of which would involve her power and others were just things anyone could do.


    Well, anyone who wasn¡¯t a complete baby about things like ¡®potential death and dismemberment.¡¯ Very, very small chance of either, like seriously stop freaking out Mom and Dad.


    Even that slight inward joke to myself backfired, as it reminded me of what my actual mother and father were doing right then. Sobering instantly, as we landed on the roof across the street from the motel in question, I held a hand out to stop the others. ¡°Calvin, wait here and be ready. Hobbes, the second anything goes wrong, you grab both of us and teleport back here.¡± I wanted Roald to stay out of sight to avoid letting any reaction he gave toward Rubi from giving away their relationship. If we were going to keep her identity secret, as well as obscure Roald¡¯s connection to us if they did learn who she was, we had to be careful.


    I could tell that he wanted to object, but he knew it was for the best. So, swallowing back his reaction, the boy simply nodded once. ¡°You should have a signal, just in case.¡±


    He had a point, so I nodded toward Murphy. ¡°If I paint a peace sign anywhere you can see, or hold up my hand to make the sign with my fingers,¡± I replied, ¡°that¡¯s your signal to grab us and jump back here.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Rubi murmured while staring at us. ¡°You guys really are a team. Like, a real--I mean¡­ you¡­ you¡¯re just¡­¡± She swallowed audibly. ¡°I thought you were running drugs or something and you¡¯re actually¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I should¡¯ve known better, but you were just being so mysterious and you had money and--and I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Roald shook his head. ¡°It''s okay. You didn''t know what was going on. You were just trying to look out for us and stop us from doing something stupid. We get it, right?¡± He glanced toward Murphy then.


    ¡°Yeah, duh,¡± she immediately agreed. ¡°We were being pretty mysterious about the whole thing. Probably should''ve come up with a better cover story. Or at least brought you to the store so you¡¯d believe we were just working there, or¡­ something.¡±


    Rubi made an uncertain noise in the back of her throat. ¡°But if you had, I wouldn''t have gone over to those apartments to try to talk to your coworker, and I never would''ve found out about Pencil¡¯s weakness. Or¡­ or gotten these powers.¡± I could tell she was giving a somewhat weak, but still positive smile under that simple ski mask. ¡°And they¡¯re pretty cool. I mean, I¡¯m pretty terrified about the whole ¡®now the Scions want to kill me and probably you guys too¡¯ thing, obviously. But the powers are¡­ I know, I know that¡¯s weird--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not weird,¡± I assured her. ¡°Believe me, I get it. You can think having superpowers is awesome, and still be terrified, freaked out, and just¡­ emotionally ripped by all the circumstances surrounding them. It¡¯s not contradictory or crazy or anything.¡± Grimacing at my own conflicting thoughts, I gestured. ¡°But right now, we really do need to get down there.¡±


    So, the three of us jumped off this roof while leaving Roald behind. Even after seeing how much Rubi embraced the jumping from building to building thing on the way over here, I still expected her to have a bit of a problem with jumping off this roof to fall a good thirty feet to the one we were aiming for. But nope, she just waited until I said we were good and then instantly leapt out like she had been born to do this. Honestly, I was thinking about adding her to my list of personal heroes  Or possibly asking Murphy and Roald if they minded if I asked her to adopt me as an honorary sibling.


    As we descended in a wild drop, I used yellow paint to slow our fall until we landed smoothly, a quick activation of orange on each of our shoes making sure we made it without any trouble. And just like that, we were standing on that roof, looking around. I felt¡­ well, weird being back here. Instinctively, I looked back toward the side of the building where I had gone out the window all those weeks earlier.


    ¡°A lot happens in a short time, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    The voice came from the top of an air conditioning unit nearby, and we all spun to find ourselves looking at--


    ¡°Th-tha-that¡¯s a raccoon,¡± Rubi managed, pointing. ¡°That¡¯s a Touched Raccoon in a business suit. Unless I¡¯m hallucinating.¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not hallucinating,¡± I assured her. ¡°This is uhh, Minister Gray. One of him, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Err, one of him?¡± Rubi managed a bit weakly.


    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t freak out. And don¡¯t you try to hug me, I see that look.¡± He was pointing at me. ¡°You¡¯ve been warned. Just call me Price. Now Fisher¡¯s gonna come out, but I want you to calm down. Don¡¯t freak out and go falling off the roof, he ain¡¯t gonna hurt you.¡±


    I started to warn Rubi about what was about to happen, but just like that, there was a burst of smoke with the glowing pyramid shape, and Price the raccoon was replaced by Fisher the bear, who loomed over us.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± he announced. ¡°Such a pleasure to meet you.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Rubi opened and shut her mouth a couple times, staring up at the massive furred figure. She¡¯d been doing really well so far, but I thought she was gonna freak out at least a little bit right then. And yet, that¡¯s not what happened. At least, not in the way I expected.


    ¡°Oh my God he¡¯s so fuzzy!¡± With that sudden exclamation, Rubi made as though to lunge that way, before catching herself. A weak little noise of conscious restraint escaped her for a couple seconds as she stared that way, until Fisher gave a long sigh and opened his shaggy arms in a gesture of acceptance. And just like that, the other girl lunged that way to literally hug the massive, suit-wearing bear as tightly as she could.


    Okay, forget me being adopted by her, were we absolutely sure this girl hadn''t already been adopted out of being my blood relative to begin with?

 On The Clock 28-05

    Fisher didn''t seem at all surprised or put off by Rubi hugging him. Nor was he surprised when she immediately stepped away and put her hands against her mask-covered face in embarrassment. Instead, he focused on me. ¡°My partner and I assume you have a good reason for bringing someone we''ve never even heard of before to meet us, however¡­ friendly she may be. She doesn''t match the physical parameters of any of your previous allies. So she is someone new. You said in your message that this information is critical and that it pertains to the¡­Scion situation. I assume that means the information comes from her and you thought it best that we hear it directly from the source. Which means you''ve told her enough to know more than we would like.¡± His gaze moved a bit to look at Murphy/Calvin, taking her in. His gaze would¡¯ve made most people, let alone someone her size (she wasn¡¯t much taller than me) shrink back. But Murphy just glared up at him as though daring the bear several feet taller than her to try something. ¡°And this one too. Your team as a whole knows more than we would like them to, considering what you must have told them to make them understand why this is even an option.¡±


    He didn''t exactly sound like he was reprimanding or threatening me, but it wasn''t completely not that either. It was more like the potential for a threat, should things go wrong. He was pointing out that the Ministry didn¡¯t like having information about them spread around willy-nilly, and that I should talk fast to let him and Price know why it was necessary in this case. Which was fair, I supposed. If I was part of this big secret conspiracy like the Ministry, I wouldn''t want some stranger to go around blabbing about it either.


    So, I quietly told Murphy to go stand with the other girl for a moment, then I explained to Fisher, ¡°You''re right, this is really important. And that girl over there is about to do everybody in this city a huge favor. But by doing it, she''s going to have a massive target on her back from some of the worst people who live here. You think Pencil likes to kill ordinary people? He¡¯ll want to kill her about a thousand times worse. And I mean that in both respects. His desire to kill her will be a thousand times stronger and he''ll want to make it a thousand times more terrible. She is in danger. So yes, I told her what she needed to know to understand that bringing that information to you guys was the right call. I told her enough to make her believe me when I said I knew who to take that information to. And I told her enough to know that blabbing about any of this to anybody else is a really bad idea. Trust me, she knows that telling anybody would go badly. And I think when you hear what she has to say, you''ll give her a pass. Hell, you might just give her a medal. Do you guys have medals?¡±


    Fisher considered me for a moment, but didn''t address the medal thing. Instead, he tapped a couple claws against his chin thoughtfully before slowly replying, ¡°She''s found out something he would be that desperate to keep out of anyone else''s hands. It''s not his identity. That''s already out there. And it''s not where they are, because everyone knows where they are. It could be something about what he really wants, but even if this whole situation with his sister being sick was really a game, he wouldn''t be that angry about being exposed. He''d move on to another game. No, if this is as important as you say, it can only be one thing. But how certain are you that this information is accurate? She could be one of his people.¡±


    ¡°Your name is even more accurate than I thought,¡± I retorted, ¡°because you''re definitely fishing right now. And all I''m going to tell you about that is that one of my people saw her escape from them. They saw what she did, and it''s not something Pencil would fake." That was a lie, of course. Well, sort of. Rubi was¡­ in a way one of my people, between everything she knew and who her brother was. And she had definitely seen everything in that alley. So when you got very technical about it, one of my people had seen what happened. I was just being a little vague on the specifics.


    From the noise he made, Fisher was clearly pretty certain there were details I wasn''t sharing, and that I was stretching things. But he let it go, instead replying, ¡°We¡¯ll want to hear it all for ourselves. I don''t suppose you''d want to allow her to take a small trip into our own private space so we can acquire this knowledge more directly.¡± Even as he said it, his tone made it clear that he knew I wouldn''t agree to that.


    But I didn''t even get the chance to refuse. Rubi spoke up first, already pivoting to come back over. ¡°I''m not going anywhere with you, in public or private. Don''t get me wrong, I think a TONI bear and raccoon who share physical space is pretty awesome, actually. And you give a pretty good hug, considering how badly I needed one. The fact is, I have about a hundred questions, but they can wait. There''s people out there who are in trouble, and from what Paintball right there says, you and the people you work with are the best chance at doing something about that. So you need to hear about this.¡±


    With that, she launched into a full explanation, telling them everything from the moment she had walked into the apartment, with the excuse that she had been there to drop off an application for a housekeeping position, until she made it out of the alley. She told them about being chased, getting out through the window, seeing the orb, and what it had done for her, what it had given her. And she told them about what happened when she punched him. A part of me wasn¡¯t sure we should tell them that many details about her power, but honestly there was no way to actually explain what had happened without giving them that much. Plus, if we wanted them to believe us and actually do something with this information, we needed to open up a bit more than I¡¯d usually accept.


    By that point, Fisher had been replaced by Price, who perched on that air conditioning unit and stared very intently at her. He was clearly absorbing every word, every gesture, and probably would have been analyzing every minute facial expression if she wasn''t wearing that mask. I couldn''t tell what he thought about what she said. It was kind of hard to read the facial expressions of a raccoon. But he was definitely listening. And when she was done, he held up his paw for a moment, gesturing for us to wait. So, we did, simply standing there a bit awkwardly while looking at each other. I didn''t know if he was just thinking by himself, or having a private conversation with Fisher. Hell, for all we knew, they had some way to communicate with the others in the Ministry leadership completely silently. Either way, we couldn''t do anything except wait. It wasn''t as though we were going to have our own conversation in front of him, and Wren hadn''t gotten around to creating things that could move our thoughts to one another just yet.


    Finally, Price straightened up on his hind legs fully and stretched. God, he really did look adorable in that suit. I had to firmly remind myself about his policy on hugs. Especially right now. And about the fact that he¡¯d obviously been responsible for ordering some bad things. Clearing his throat, the little guy announced, ¡°Okay, we believe you. If that''s true, it means that psycho has a weakness after all. And you''re right, that''s something we can use. At least, if anyone can get to him.¡±


    ¡°You guys can¡¯t get anyone through the shield either?¡± I found myself asking. What the hell, we¡¯d just given them some incredibly valuable information. I could do a little fishing myself. Not that ¡®none of our powers can get through an impassable energy shield¡¯ told me very much, but still.


    Price must have come to the same conclusion, because he shrugged. ¡°Not yet, anyway. Cup does some good work. That or they found someone else and made them do it.¡±


    ¡°Just tell me they don''t have Lion.¡± It had been a terrifying thought that had jumped into my head on the drive back here. After all, her entire thing was about defensive structures. If anyone could create a force field that nobody could get through, it was her. But the very thought of those pieces of shit having their hands on that little mouse made me want to rip through that first field with my bare hands, whatever it took.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Fortunately, Price shook his head. ¡°We checked on that. She''s safe and sound.¡±


    That was a load off my mind. Still, I asked, ¡°What about his threat? Does he really have that many wannabe Scions who¡¯ll kill all those people for him? Where would they even grab that many people all at once? Are they just taking people from their homes or¡­ school isn''t going to be in today, so maybe they took over some businesses or something? Have there been any calls or in--¡± In mid-sentence, I coughed. ¡°Right, sorry, you¡¯re probably not really interested in brainstorming.¡± I knew I could think of people I trusted more with that.


    Price, for his part, gave a soft, dry chuckle. There was no humor to it. He was probably thinking the exact same thing. They had no real reason to trust me that much either. Aside from the fact that we wanted the same thing right now. But he didn''t say any of that. Instead, he just replied, ¡°Look, kid, we¡¯ll take this information back and do something with it. So thanks. We¡¯ll make sure it gets to the right people, and the second there''s a clear shot at that bastard, we¡¯ll have people ready to do it.¡±


    He switched out with Fisher again, leaving the tall bear to tower over us while adding, ¡°As my partner said, we will make certain this information does not go to waste. And if any of you come up with a way to make it more immediately useful¡­¡±


    ¡°We''ll let you know,¡± I promised. ¡°This is about stopping the Scions before they turn this city into a hellhole. Whoever can actually help with that¡­ anything else can wait. If we find something out, if we find a way in, or get any ideas on that front, I¡¯ll call that number again.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of that number,¡± Fisher replied, ¡°We¡¯d be interested in how you ended up getting it? The man who must have given it to you would not have done so without a very good reason. And we weren¡¯t aware that he was in the city.¡±


    He was fishing again, I knew. Which probably meant Bobby hadn¡¯t told them much, if anything. I was pretty sure they didn¡¯t know I¡¯d been out of the city, and they definitely had no idea how long ago Bobby had given me the number. But did they know that he was hurt right now? Would he want them to know? Or did they already know everything about what happened and this was a test to see if I would lie, or to check how much I would tell them?


    I had no idea, and I really didn''t feel like getting into a whole thing about it. So, I just shook my head and replied, ¡°It''s a long story, maybe one he should get into if he wants. Suffice to say, he said I should use the number if we needed help, and this seemed to qualify. You''ve got the information about Pencil now, so you guys can do something with it. I figure if anyone has the right contacts to make sure people believe it and don''t think it''s just another rumor, it''s you people. And you¡¯ve got the right motivation too. This whole thing has to be pretty bad for business.¡±


    The bear gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement before focusing on me once more. ¡°Well, my partner and I must say that we''re glad we could come to that much of an arrangement. Perhaps a closer working relationship could be arranged at some point in the future. Once we''ve all gotten past this situation.¡±


    There was a lot I wanted to say to that as well, but again, it wasn''t at the time. So, I just shrugged. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll see. But if you don''t mind, we''ve got a lot to do.¡±


    His head inclined, those bear eyes that sparkled with far more intelligence than you normally saw in such a creature regarding me. ¡°Yes, I imagine you do. And I hope that you will request any other assistance you might need when the time comes.¡±


    With that, he turned and walked toward the nearby roof access door. Halfway there, he switched places with Price, who spoke aloud, just two words. ¡°Yellow brick.¡± Then the door in front of him opened and he walked through. I couldn¡¯t see very well from where I was standing, but I did catch a glimpse of what looked like¡­ space? Or just a dark, empty void. Either way, it definitely wasn¡¯t the interior of the stairwell like it should¡¯ve been. Then the raccoon was gone, the door closing behind him. Except I caught a blur of motion pass by the door, before Rubi landed hard on the far side of the roof, catching herself against the raised wall there with a grunt.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I managed, ¡°did you just--¡±


    ¡°Used my power,¡± she confirmed. ¡°I wanted to see what was behind the door, so I froze everything and went through a whole thing to jump from one side of this roof to the other. Every time I jumped, I went a little further. Partway through I started being able to see into the doorway. Then I just kept jumping until I was all the way past it. So I could see it from every different angle. I jumped and looked that way, rewound to the start, then jumped and looked that way again, over and over. It took about thirty times, and I''d say I got a decent look through the door for maybe twenty of them.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯d you see?¡± Murphy quickly asked.


    ¡°Not here, not now,¡± I interrupted. I didn''t know for sure that those two had left recording devices behind, but I wasn''t going to take that chance. I didn''t think they''d be too upset about one of us using our power to see how they were leaving this place, otherwise they wouldn''t have done it right in front of us. But still, there was no sense in pushing things. Besides, Roald had to be pretty anxious right then as he watched from the other roof.


    So, Murphy grabbed both of us so we could teleport back to where the boy was. Even then, we left that roof too and went a few more blocks just to be on the safe side, before stopping to talk about what had just happened, and what Rubi had seen.


    A void, just like I had caught a glimpse of. That¡¯s what was on the other side of that door. Plus some sort of amber-colored bridge leading to another doorway about thirty feet away. Amber-bridge. Yellow brick, like the Wizard of Oz. Yeah, it made sense.


    So that was definitely a person¡¯s name. We had the Touched name of another member of the Ministry. Not that that actually told us that much, but still. Clearly this person had the ability to link two doors together. That had to be how members of the Ministry got around the city quickly. What sort of limitations did it have? Would it create a door where there wasn¡¯t one if they needed to go to a spot in the middle of nowhere? I had so many questions. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure calling up the Ministry to ask for more details wouldn¡¯t go over well.


    Instead, I focused on what was important right now. ¡°Okay, so now they know to spread the word about Pencil¡¯s weakness, but we still don¡¯t have any way through the shield, and neither does anyone else. And we¡¯ve got¡­ about a day and a half before those wannabe Scions start killing people. Which, oh yeah, we still don¡¯t have any idea who or where those people are, except for Broadway¡¯s sister.¡± I had sent a message to Pack asking if they¡¯d managed to get any more details about that yet, but hadn¡¯t gotten a response yet. Either she was asleep or busy. Since it was basically the crack of dawn and she was a supervillain in the middle of a gang war, it could¡¯ve been either.


    Seeing Rubi yawn out of the corner of my eye, I felt a sharp twinge of guilt. Of course she was tired. All these guys had to be. Unlike me, they hadn¡¯t slept for hours in a van recently. ¡°Okay,¡± I announced, ¡°we need to go back to the shop. You guys can all get some sleep. You¡¯re not going back to your place until we¡¯re sure the Scion thing is dealt with. What about your little sister?¡± I asked Rubi, remembering the elementary-aged girl.


    ¡°She¡¯s staying overnight with a friend,¡± she informed me. ¡°She--she¡¯ll be okay, right?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they have any idea who you are, but we¡¯re just--we¡¯re just going to be careful,¡± I assured her. ¡°Leave your sister with the friend for now, but you guys come back to the shop and get some sleep. We¡¯ll figure out what to do next after we all get a chance to regroup and¡­ and all that.¡±


    ¡°If Wren gets the teleport machine working by the time we figure out who these wannabe Scions are, maybe we can kill two birds with one stone,¡± Murphy pointed out. ¡°Teleport them straight to Breakwater.¡± She immediately turned and held both hands up when Rubi opened her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m kidding. I¡¯m just kidding. Umm¡­. mostly. They deserve their day in court, everyone gets a lawyer, blah blah blah.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I let out a long, low breath. ¡°Either way, no one¡¯s going to be doing anything right now. We¡¯ll head back, you guys can rest for awhile, and then¡­ well¡­


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll see what we can do about stopping the Scions from burning this whole city down around us.¡±

 On The Clock 28-06

    So, we went back to the shop and Fred showed Rubi, Murphy, and Roald where they could sleep. We all felt guilty about just crashing when we were operating on a time limit, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. We couldn¡¯t keep going nonstop.


    Besides the Scions thing, we couldn¡¯t deal with Pittman yet either. It was going to take Wren a while to make absolutely certain that machine was safe, and then make the changes we needed to reach out, grab him, and bring him to us. As motivated as we were to do this quickly, we were even more motivated to do it safely. The last thing we needed was to screw up somehow and accidentally transport all of us over to that island prison. Or grab the wrong person and bring them here. The thought of taking one of those psychopaths and letting them loose in this city, especially considering everything else that was already going on here, was enough to temper my panic just a little bit. It forced me to accept that this couldn¡¯t be rushed. We were only going to have one shot at doing this properly, and we had to make it count.


    So, we couldn''t rush it. I assured Wren that we were going to wait until she was absolutely certain it was ready, and that she could take the time she needed to get it there. I knew she didn''t really believe me about that last part. Every minute counted right now, we all knew that. But she did promise to be thorough and careful. She knew as well as I did just how important this was.The poor kid didn¡¯t deserve this sort of pressure. But then again, I was pretty sure none of us deserved it.


    At least she had some real help now. Not just because Paige was back and able to contribute her own technical knowledge, but Qwerty too. Hell, his power was basically perfect for working alongside Wren. Not the tagging power, of course, the other one. It basically allowed him to watch anyone who was building or fixing something and tell them how to do it better. He was able to sit on the table, observe Wren¡¯s work, and give incredibly helpful advice. Yeah, we had lucked out when we met him, that was for sure. Which was fair, considering how much bad luck and just general problems kept cropping up. Seriously, the Scions had taken over Peyton¡¯s mother¡¯s apartment and were threatening to have their wannabe candidates kill hundreds of people if we didn¡¯t get the cure to Pittman¡¯s bio-attack fast enough? Who decided that needed to happen right now? We deserved something decent to try to balance it.


    While they were busy working on that, with the help of the others (those who didn¡¯t desperately need to sleep anyway) lifting, carrying, and holding things, I had other stuff I had to do. At least it would work as a distraction. First, I called the mercenary hospital and checked on Bobby. They said he was recuperating okay but he was asleep at the moment and they wouldn''t wake him up. There was no way I was going to push the issue, so I thanked them and promised to check in later.


    From there, I met up with Izzy and Amber at a coffee shop, embracing both of them tightly before we sat in the back booth and whispered to catch each other up. Well, at least catch up somewhat. Obviously there was a lot of¡­ extra stuff, too much to get very deep into. But I did tell them that I had all of my memories back--or at least I was pretty sure I did. I told them both about Anthony, and everything I remembered about Bobby. My voice kept cracking through all of that, and I had to take a few breaks. But both of them were patient and just waited for me to get through it. I had already talked through this stuff with Paige, obviously. But she had known all of it already. Somehow, it was different explaining the details to people who hadn¡¯t been there. It gave me a few new insights into my own feelings. Nothing groundbreaking, but still. It just¡­ made me feel everything that much more. In some ways, that was hard. The pain was far more fresh than it should have been, even though it had been over five years, because I was never given the chance to actually process it. Now I was processing, and it was, well, a work in progress.


    Of course, we didn¡¯t just talk about my stupid personal traumas. There were more immediately important things to get into. Specifically, everything that was going on right here in the city. It was early Friday morning, but there was no school today. For various obvious reasons, they had canceled it. The city was panicking even about the idea that the bio-attack could have spread, if Cup was actually affected. Obviously, there were people who didn''t believe that and thought the Scions were just fucking with everybody. Which, honestly, was fair. But enough people believed them that trying to have a normal school day would have been a complete joke. Even if we were there, no one would be able to concentrate on the actual work.


    Honestly I was surprised this coffee shop was open. A lot of businesses weren''t. The jaded part of me reminded myself how much the Ministry probably hated this. After all, their whole point was to keep the city as profitable as possible. They definitely wouldn''t want to have half the businesses in town shuttered because so many people were afraid to leave their houses. In this very specific situation, we were completely on the same side. Which made me wonder if I should have told them everything about Bobby and what we were trying to do when we met with Fisher and Price before. If I had, what kind of help could they provide? Would it be worth giving them more information than they already had just so they could set us up with any extra equipment Wren needed to make absolutely certain this plan of ours could go off without a hitch? Would they even listen, or would they just think I was rambling about stuff I didn''t understand and couldn''t actually do?


    Well, they would listen if I went to my brother, unmasked myself, and told him everything. He would definitely listen to me then. But I didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d actually help or think I was in over my head and that I should just let them handle it. Besides, that was a bridge I would never be able to unburn. If I was going to do it, I had to be absolutely certain there was no other way. Tempted as I was, with my parents in the condition they were, I couldn''t act emotionally. Hell, I already had enough problems with emotions as it was. Right now, we were still working on the machine, and Wren hadn¡¯t told me she couldn''t do anything more with it. It was still coming along, we didn¡¯t have to hit the emergency panic button yet. As hard as it was, I just had to force down my anxiety and wait.


    With all that on my mind as I took a long sip of my iced coffee, I was a little surprised when Amber spoke up abruptly from across the table. ¡°Are you going to see your parents today?¡± Her voice was raised slightly, and I realized belatedly that it was the second time she¡¯d asked it. I had just been too lost in my own thoughts to hear her.


    Setting the cup down, I glanced at Izzy before nodding. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re going over there as soon as they open for visitors.¡± I tried to keep the fear out of my voice. There was absolutely no reason for me to start thinking that my mom and dad were going to suddenly get worse. From everything I had heard, they were completely stable. The doctors were already working on several promising leads about how to counter what was done. Plus, according to Sierra, Simon and the rest of the active Ministry were chasing down the lab that Pittman¡¯s minions had to have used, so maybe they could find something useful there. I didn''t believe for a second that that would mean we didn''t have to grab Pittman, of course. But at least I could calm down a little bit. Or try to.


    According to Amber and Izzy, all the Star-Touched who were still upright were being put to work scouring the city for any sign of the Scion candidates. Not that they were having much luck on that front, of course. It was like looking for several needles in a skyscraper-sized haystack. But they had to at least try. Maybe someone would get lucky. Meanwhile, others were working on trying to find a way to bring down the forcefield around the building. It was obviously something Cup put together, probably before she got sick. My guess was that she had intended it as some sort of emergency safety thing to stop them from being caught if they were cornered somewhere. Which also had to mean they had a way to get out of it, because I refused to believe she would create something to completely trap herself and her brother. Maybe their own teleportation devices worked from the inside. Either way, so far no one had been able to get past it. But they weren''t going to stop trying, even if they had to be careful to avoid giving the Scions reason to execute any of their prisoners in there.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Just as I was looking at the time on my phone and starting to say we could head to the Conservators building to check on our parents, Izzy¡¯s phone dinged alongside Amber''s. They looked at them quickly before Amber grimaced. ¡°There''s some sort of fight going on by the bank on Griswold. We¡¯ve gotta get over there.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll suit up and--¡± I started to say, but Izzy interrupted.


    ¡°No, we can do it.¡± Her eyes met mine intently. ¡°You haven¡¯t seen¡­ you haven¡¯t seen Mom and Dad in a few days. You should go visit them, Cass. We can handle this part.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Amber insisted. ¡°It¡¯s just some gang idiots causing trouble. We¡¯re gonna meet up with the rest of our team and deal with them.¡± She offered me a little smile. ¡°Seriously, we can handle this. Go see your parents, breathe a little. I think you¡¯re gonna need the rest before this is over.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like the idea, of course. But both of them had been handling this sort of thing a lot longer than I had. So, I headed out by myself, catching an Uber to take me to the Conservators building. It was time to see for myself just how my parents were doing.


    *********


    As I stepped out of the car and thanked the driver before sending his tip on my phone, a text came through from Izzy. She was letting me know that she and Amber were suited up and had just reached the scene of the disturbance. Apparently one small-time gang member had tried to steal a car belonging to one of the Prev Oscuro members. Normally that would¡¯ve resulted in the first guy getting his everything broken, but he ended up having backup. Between that and the fact that none of the Oscuro Touched were around, it had devolved into a full-on brawl right there in the middle of the street. The Minority were all heading in to break it up before things got worse.


    Sending back a message wishing her luck and reminding her to be careful, I put my phone away and headed inside. The guard at the front desk welcomed me back, and I reminded myself that, to him, I had just been here yesterday. Sierra had been keeping up appearances by coming to visit the way I would have. Thankfully, she had also given me names and descriptions of the people she interacted with, so I met his greeting with a simple, ¡°Hey, Dave. Anything ummm, new?¡±


    The older, dark-skinned man shook his head. ¡°All the same, Miss Evans. Doctor Porris says they¡¯ve got some high hopes for the treatment they¡¯re working on right now, and if the Maiels show enough improvement, they¡¯ll start your folks on it.¡±


    Right, of course. My parents might¡¯ve been important enough to get the very top of the line, cutting edge care. But that didn¡¯t mean they were going to test the treatments on them. They¡¯d test it on other victims first to see how it went. It was a thought that made my stomach twist itself up a bit. I was conflicted, to say the least.


    But I couldn¡¯t really focus too much on that. Instead, I waved to the man and headed further inside. There were a couple more checkpoints I had to pass, but they all knew me by now. Before long, I made it to the elevator and was on my way up to the medical wing. While waiting to reach the right floor, I checked my phone again. That time, there was a message from Paige. According to Wren, it was going to take most of the next day and a half to really make sure everything was set so we could grab Pittman and get answers out of him. The way Paige phrased it, Wren kept trying to apologize for taking so long. But none of them were having any of it, and just reminded her that doing it right was more important than doing it fast. Rushing was a bad idea.


    After sending back a message to let me know if Wren needed any extra equipment picked up or anything like that, I stepped off the elevator as the doors opened. There was a brand new knot in my stomach that had nothing to do with the whole Pittman plan. I was about to visit my parents again for the first time in several days. The thought of seeing them in that condition, of knowing that there was still no way to actually help them, even if we were working on that, made me want to turn around and get back on the elevator.


    Oh, right, it was about more than that. The realization came to me as I made my way past several nurses and orderlies, greeting them politely. It was also about my memories. This was the first time I would be seeing my mom and dad in person after getting all of my memories back. I still¡­ a part of me was still angry about that. And the thought of feeling that anger while looking at my parents in their conditions, especially when I couldn¡¯t be absolutely certain they would end up being okay, made a thick little ball of guilt settle in my gut. I had to set those feelings aside. Someday, if--when my parents were back to their usual selves, maybe I could figure out a way to talk to them about what had happened, what they had done. But not now. I was going to force those feelings down, put them aside, and focus on what was actually important at the moment.


    Despite telling myself that, it still took me a moment to collect myself while standing outside the door to the observation room. Fortunately, I was pretty sure that wouldn¡¯t stand out to anyone. Of course I was having trouble psyching myself up to go in there. I saw a couple sympathetic looks from the people hurriedly passing by as they went about doing their jobs. But they left me alone, giving me the chance to collect myself.


    Finally, I let out a long breath and pushed the door open to step inside the room. My eyes immediately went to the window, and I moved that way. Within a couple steps, I could see both beds. This time, my dad wasn¡¯t sitting up. He and my mom were each laying there, though ¡®laying¡¯ might have been a bit of an overstatement. They were tossing and turning, almost writhing in their beds. The medical staff had used soft restrains to ensure they didn¡¯t fall off and hurt themselves. But that, in some ways, just made it worse. I had to stand at that window and watch my mom and dad as they were literally tied to their hospital beds, writhing and babbling about completely absurd things that didn¡¯t make any sense. That time, my dad was the one babbling nonsense, while my mother seemed to be experiencing some mystery book she had read as though she was the main detective. From what I could make out, it wasn¡¯t a happy book.


    Even now, the doctors weren¡¯t going to let me, or any other visitor, go inside that room. Probably especially not now, since that whole thing with the Scions had made everyone start rethinking whether it was possible for this stuff to infect others and make it out of the building. So, I just had to stand here by the window, staring at my parents like that. Needless to say, it didn¡¯t make me feel any better or help me sort out any of my conflicting thoughts. The fact that one of the reasons I desperately wanted them to be okay was because I wished I could yell at them about everything I remembered was doing a number on my psyche. And the realization that even if they had been okay, I still couldn''t say everything I wanted to wasn''t helpful either.


    In the end, I stayed there for about half an hour. Then I couldn''t take it anymore and turned to head for the door. I made it down the hall and onto the elevator, only to hear a voice call out for me to hold the doors as they started to shut. Reflexively, I did so, looking up as a man came on the elevator. A familiar man.


    ¡°Hello, Cassidy,¡± Kent Jackson greeted me in a soft voice as he moved to stand against the far wall. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again. How are your parents doing?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Say something. I had to say something. But all I could focus on was the memory of that man looming over my bed, hand reaching out to take my memories away.


    His expression softened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Just as I had the panicky thought that he realized I had remembered, he added, ¡°It can''t be easy to come here and see your mother and father in that condition. Just let me know if we can do anything to help. Anything at all.¡±


    Don¡¯t punch him, I told myself. Don¡¯t punch him, don¡¯t punch him, do not punch him.


    God damn it. This was going to be the longest elevator ride of my life.

 Non-Canon 29 - The Cat And The Cassidy

    Prompt: What if the cat mentioned in the second chapter of the story Touched at the same time as Cassidy?


    Pursued by people who, unknown to the girl (and them, considering they had no idea who she was), worked for her parents, Cassidy Evans fled into an alley in her attempt to escape. Half-blinded by her sobs of terror from the murders she had just witnessed, the girl almost missed the appearance of the small glowing orb on the other side of the dumpster. In the end, she barely noticed it. Yet when she did, her entire focus became devoted to that orb, as it made her forget her pursuit, where she was, why she was afraid, all of it. The only thing that mattered then was reaching out to touch the glowing ball.


    Which meant that she did completely miss the second orb that was positioned almost directly next to the first, slightly under the dumpster. But that second orb attracted a very different sort of attention. The attention of a small gray alley cat with wisps of white through her coat. The cat had been sleeping behind a nearby trash can, but was disturbed by the sound of Cassidy¡¯s frantic entrance and went scurrying under the dumpster. Now, she approached the second orb, giving a soft meow even as she reached out with one paw to curiously bat at the thing.


    And then she, like the human almost right next to her, was taken into a vision of a very different place.


    *******


    After using her newfound paint powers to successfully escape and hide from her pursuers (hearing her brother¡¯s voice in the process), Cassidy lay atop the roof she had managed to get herself up to. She could hear the voices of the two Sell-Touched who had been searching for her fading into the distance and let out a breath of relief before straightening up. She had to get out of--


    ¡°Meow.¡±


    The sound came from directly in front of Cassidy, and she jolted backwards in shock before staring. There wasn''t a cat there. Wait, yes there was. Peering very intently, she could see the faint outline of a cat shape floating in the air. No, it was like the air had turned into a cat. it was a very distinctly cat shaped gust of wind, however impossible that was. ¡°Uhh¡­ what¡­¡±


    Abruptly, the gray cat became solid and visible once more. She dropped out of the air with a surprised ¡°Mew!¡± and landed lightly on the roof next to where Cassidy was sitting. Making a noise of annoyance at the sheer audacity of gravity to think it held sway over her, the cat perched there and stared at Cassidy questioningly.


    For her part, the girl stared right back. ¡°Wait, you''re¡­ Are you a TONI? A--powers, you¡¯re an animal with powers. You¡¯re--do you understand me?¡±


    ¡°Meow!¡± the cat shot back. As she did so, one of her paws reached out to touch the nearby low brick wall along the edge of the roof. She pushed against it testingly, putting her other paw against it. Then she shoved herself forward. Right in front of Cassidy''s eyes, the cat pushed her way into the brick wall. She didn''t push through it, didn''t knock it down, she literally went into the brick, merging with it. That ¡®merging¡¯ term became even more apt a moment later, as the part of the wall that the cat had stepped into pulled away from the rest of it. A distinctly brick-textured and colored cat trotted in a circle around the astonished human girl before perching right in front of her again. The cat had melded with the brick wall to the point of walking around with part of it. She didn''t simply take on the characteristics of the wall, she literally merged with it and took part of the bricks with her as she moved away. She was half-brick, half-cat. Or all cat with brick added in. Cassidy wasn¡¯t sure what the right term would be.


    What she was certain of was that this was a TONI, an animal who had Touched. ¡°Holy shit,¡± she gasped. ¡°Holy shit, holy shit. Wait, did you see what happened back there? Did¡­ did you hear all that?¡± Her voice caught a bit.


    There was another meow from the cat, before she gave a violent shake, sending small pieces of shattered brick flying in every direction to leave herself with pristine gray fur  once more. Then she meowed again, clearly anxious.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Cassidy whispered, ¡°I can¡¯t understand you. I guess you didn''t get the whole ability to speak like some TONI¡¯s do? But you¡¯re obviously intelligent. You can understand me, so maybe we can still communicate. I¡¯ll show you the keyboard on my phone, and you can--wait, what are you doing?¡± That last bit came as she gave a double-take at the cat, who had lifted her hind quarters off the roof and began to slowly shake it back and forth while the cat stared intently at her. She was clearly in pounce-mode. ¡°Hold on, wait, I don¡¯t know what you think you¡¯re doing, but y--aaaahh!¡±


    The cat had sprung forward. Cassidy yelped, falling over backwards as the cat literally leapt into her. Not to jump into her lap, not to land on her shoulder, and not even to slam into her chest. No, just like with the air itself that had made her mostly invisible and allowed her to fly, or the brick wall a moment earlier, the cat jumped into Cassidy.


    As she fell backwards, instead of lying flat on her back, the girl rolled dramatically before popping up into a crouched position. And in that moment, she looked very different. She wasn''t even recognizable as Cassidy. Her skin was covered with a very light gray fur, her face was a mix of human and cat with actual feline ears atop her head in addition to her human ones, her eyes were vertically slitted with amber color where her whites would have been, and she had a long, luxurious tail.


    ¡°Oh!¡± the new figure gasped. ¡°Oh, oh!¡± She brought her paws--hands around in front of her face to touch her mouth. ¡°That¡¯s better. Hey I can make people sounds! Soundsuh! Puh puh people people peep-hull-peep hole. Sound sound sound.¡±


    ¡°Wa-wait, what?¡± she blurted. ¡°What¡¯s better--what? What happened?¡±


    ¡°I can talkuh talk talk tick tock clock! Ticky tocky clocky!¡± she answered herself. No, not herself. The cat. The cat answered Cassidy.


    ¡°You¡¯re inside me?!¡± Cassidy almost squealed the question.


    ¡°We should be quiet,¡± the cat scolded with her voice. ¡°Quietuh. Quiet. The bad ones are out there. There, there, there.¡±


    Flinching, Cassidy lowered her voice and hissed the same question again, ¡°You''re inside me?!¡±


    ¡°In a manner of speaking, I guess. A very literal manner,¡± her own voice replied. ¡° I wasn''t even sure that would work. Astounding, really! Astound, astound. What a lovely word. How can you stop yourself from saying it all the time? Astound astound. I think that¡¯s my favorite so far. Assssss-tound. Asbound. Bounding tound. I mean, ahem, I should introduce myself.¡±


    ¡°You think?!¡± Cassidy hiss-whispered, trying to contain herself so they wouldn¡¯t attract attention. She stared down at her fur-covered hands, turning them over before gasping as her fingernails elongated before her eyes into visible claws. ¡°You merged with the air and that¡¯s why you could fly and were invisible. Then you merged with that wall. And now you merged with me!¡±


    ¡°Well duh,¡± came the response from her own mouth once more. ¡°How else were we going to communicate, exactly? This was the easiest way. Now we can have a proper conversation. And believe me, I quite enjoy the conversation part. Astound.¡±


    ¡°Okay one, this is not what most people would think of when they say ¡®proper conversation,¡± Cassidy insisted. ¡°and two, I¡¯m pretty sure this is the sort of thing you''d usually get permission for before just jumping inside of someone.¡±


    As soon as those words left her mouth, her own face twisted into a scoffing expression. ¡°And why would I need to have permission to follow what was clearly the proper course of action? Oooh, I like that one too. Action. Kuh-shun. Action. Kushun.¡± Just as quickly, however, the expression fell. ¡°Ah, but fine, fine, perhaps you were correct. I acted hastily in my eagerness. It''s a flaw which perhaps led to my very presence in the same alley you found yourself hiding within. I had a home once, but as I was being transported to the vet, I noticed a small rodent and escaped my cage in my eagerness to chase it. My owners gave chase, but I eluded them in my pursuit of the rodent, only to find myself alone and lost out here. No rodent, and no owners. I do not like that word. Owners. Ners. Bad word.¡±


    ¡°So you were in the alley and you saw the orb,¡± Cassidy slowly managed. ¡°But if you had owners before, you must¡¯ve had a name, right?¡±


    ¡°That is why I said I should introduce myself,¡± the cat pointed out. ¡°Ahem, I am Bailey. It is truly a pleasure to meet me. You. A pleasure to meet you. Pleasure. Astound. Astounding to meet. And me, I¡¯m quite certain. I¡¯ve never actually met myself, because I¡¯ve never been without myself. But if I had ever experienced a time without myself, I¡¯m quite certain the addition of myself would be a very positive moment. Ment. Mint. Mom-Mint.¡±


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    ¡°Okay, yeah,¡± Cassidy murmured, ¡°you¡¯re definitely a cat. Hi, Bailey. You¡¯re right, this is the easiest way for us to communicate. I just-- there¡¯s a lot¡­ a lot just happened. I need a minute. Wait, hang on. Can we¡­¡± Slowly, she stood up to her full (unimpressive for a human, but gigantic for a cat) height and looked around. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s easier to see now. I think I have--I mean we have your cat vision. This is pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Enough to make you forget about the bad men who want to kill you?¡± Bailey spoke through her once more.


    Immediately, her face shifted from the cat¡¯s slightly arrogant yet curious expression, to one of chastisement and emotional turmoil. ¡°Right, sorry. I--we need to get out of here. I can explain what''s going on, but let''s get somewhere safe first.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well if you want to get out of here,¡± Bailey replied while making their shared body pivot to face the edge of the roof, ¡°you should use that blue paint again.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Cassidy raised their arm and sprayed blue paint that way to make a small puddle. ¡°Okay, but do you really think--¡±


    That was as far as she got before her body was suddenly moving. Her voice became a startled yelp as she ran forward, jumped on the blue puddle, and went flying across the gap between that building and the one nearby. Leg and arms flailing, Cassidy did her best to contain her squeal before reaching the other side. There, she nearly slammed into a chimney, but reflexes kicked in and her hands snapped out to catch hold of it, vaulting over the thing before spinning into a three-turn somersault in the air to land smoothly on the tips of her toes, arms raised for an imaginary audience.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Bailey noted, ¡°I imagine that is another moment where I should have asked--¡±


    ¡°Again, again, again!¡± Cassidy interrupted. ¡°Let¡¯s do it again!¡± She--they were jumping up and down excitedly, seemingly forgetting the seriousness of the situation for just a moment. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve gotta test this, right?¡± The excitement in her voice broke just a little bit, making it clear that she had not actually forgotten anything, but needed this moment to set it aside so she could think things through a bit more clearly.


    Bailey seemed to pick that up, as their shared head tilted sideways thoughtfully, the cat-ears twitching one direction, then the other as though listening for anything. Finally, their head nodded. ¡°Right, I always wanted to be this big. Let¡¯s see what we can do.¡±


    For a moment, they just stood there. Then their left foot raised to step in one direction while their torso turned a different way. There was an audible grunt before they stopped entirely once more. ¡°Uh, right,¡± Cassidy realized, ¡°maybe this is a little more complicated than I thought. We¡¯ve gotta do this together. Share control.¡±


    Their head tilted the other way as Bailey spoke. ¡°Ahem, well if we are sharing, we need a signal. Can you feel this?¡±


    Another pause came before Cassidy quickly confirmed. ¡°Yeah, I think so. It was like a little thing in my stomach. Our stomach, I guess? You clenched our stomach. I can do it too, see?¡±


    Again, there was silence for a second. Then Bailey agreed. ¡°Yes, good. When one of us sends that signal, it means the other should completely relax control of the body and allow them to take over. We should switch back and forth. I shall go first.¡±


    ¡°Why would--never mind, go for it,¡± Cassidy started before amending. ¡°I forgot, cat.¡±


    A broad, confident smile came to their shared gray-furred face. ¡°Excellent, so you are already aware of feline superiority. Periority. Priority. Super-priority. That will make our friendship much easier.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m aware of something alright,¡± Cassidy retorted. ¡°But come on, let¡¯s go. Uh, that way.¡± Their body turned so she could point. ¡°Actually, that¡¯s a good point. I think I need to be the one to use my paint powers, so I¡¯ll need to take control of the hands to do that.¡±


    ¡°We have to share,¡± Bailey agreed. ¡°The stomach signal works to let us know to let go of the body completely, but if you want to take a single limb that the other is using¡­ hmm, a loose grip perhaps. Here.¡± Their left hand rose and began to wave back and forth. ¡°Can you stop the paw if you try?¡±


    ¡°Hand,¡± Cassidy corrected. ¡°And--yup.¡± The hand stopped waving, then began to open and shut rapidly. ¡°Can you--¡±


    The hand stopped opening and shutting. The pride--or possibly smugness in Bailey¡¯s voice was palpable. ¡°Of course I can. I am astounding--ding-standing-astound. Right, so if you feel the other person take control of a limb--¡±


    Their head bobbed as Cassidy agreed. ¡°Don¡¯t fight it, got it. Be loose, work together, let the other one take control if they need to but don¡¯t just grab it if you don¡¯t need to. We can do this.¡±


    And with that, they started to run together. It wasn''t exactly that simple, of course. Whatever their intentions, it was still difficult for both of them to pass control back and forth and to simply spend time as largely a passenger in their own body. And even when they did relax, they couldn''t let go too much. They were never really solely a passenger. Running along the rooftops required a lot of Bailey¡¯s instincts for exactly how to move and where to step each time, though Cassidy¡¯s experience moving on two legs proved invaluable as well. And it had to be the latter who used her blue and red paint to move them from building to building. The incredible agility within their combined form allowed for some truly remarkable aerial feats, particularly with the added height they could get through blue and purple paint-assistance.


    But to do all that, they had to get better at working together and understanding one another''s signals. More than once, they crashed and burned through miscommunication or simply not reacting quickly enough. Thankfully, they learned easily what the orange paint did, and that saved them from a lot of potential injury. Even then, however, there were some bruises. But eventually they managed to get it together enough to make a decent run through the city, bounding from rooftop to rooftop in something close to harmony. Cassidy switched between various paint colors to speed them up, slow their falls, springboard them off surfaces, and pull them from one spot to another. Bailey, meanwhile, contributed her feline vision, agility, and the tail which aided them in so many stunts. Her actual powers came in handy as well. Their combined body was capable of melding with any material, including air. Which not only allowed them to travel much further on a jump (for some unknown reason their combined body couldn¡¯t hover or fly as air the way Bailey¡¯s separate body could, though it did fall very slowly), but also made them mostly invisible. Using green paint for speed to run straight at the edge of a roof, then leaping with purple-assisted strength (once they figured out what that did) to hit a blue puddle before immediately shifting into an air-like form rocketed them almost a hundred yards.


    Needless to say, they could move incredibly quickly through the city like that. And they did so, spending over an hour simply running through the city, and completely losing themselves to the joy of it. Cassidy never forgot what she had heard from her brother, or what she had seen back in that motel. But she did let go and enjoyed the moment.


    Finally, after a particularly long jump, they came down on a roof and skidded along it before pivoting on one foot just as they ran out of momentum. Bailey jumped out of Cassidy, returning to her smaller cat form, while the human girl fell over on her back, laughing and panting. ¡°Oh my God, that was amazing! Err, sorry, astounding. Totally astounding. Dude, we absolutely nailed it!¡±


    Bailey had merged with air once more, hovering there above the girl before making just her face reappear so she could give a soft, ¡°Mew.¡±


    Reaching up, Cassidy held her arms out until the cat returned to solid form and dropped down into her grasp. ¡°We are so doing that again. Uh, we can merge whenever we really need to communicate too. But let¡¯s work out a system for when we can¡¯t. One meow for yes, two for no. Raise your right front paw for ¡®happy/good/positive¡¯ or your left paw for ¡®unhappy/bad/negative¡¯, and sit up on your hind legs with both paws for ¡®I don¡¯t know.¡¯ Sound okay so far?¡±


    ¡°Meow,¡± came the response, along with a raised right paw.


    ¡°Sweet!¡± Cassidy gave her a soft high five before giggling. Unfortunately, the giggle quickly faded. ¡°My brother¡¯s a bad guy. And¡­ and my dad too. He said our father would want to know why the witness¡­ me¡­ escaped, just before he shot that guy. Dad--Simon¡­ Mom has to know, right?¡±


    There was another soft meow, a single one of agreement. This time, it was accompanied by a raised left paw. She agreed, but felt negatively about it.


    ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± Cassidy confirmed with a sigh. ¡°If¡­ if my parents and my brother are bad guys, then¡­ then we have to figure something out. I mean I do.¡±


    That time, Bailey meowed twice for no, before putting her right paw against the other girl¡¯s shoulder while perched on top of her where Cassidy had the cat down on her chest.


    ¡°You¡¯ll help?¡± The human girl tilted her head before smiling once more. ¡°Thanks, Bailey. You¡¯ll have to hide in your invisible form a lot. Like the Cheshire cat, I guess. But I think my family might still notice a cat-shaped air thing hanging around a lot.¡±


    Turning, Bailey bounded off of her and jumped off the roof. With a gasp, Cassidy quickly jumped up to scramble that way. ¡°Bailey! What--¡± She reached the edge of the roof and peered down, only to see the cat use her air form to fly all the way to the ground. Then she began to tear into some of the garbage there. ¡°What are you¡­¡±


    Shrugging to herself, Cassidy jumped down, using orange and yellow paint to land safely. Then she watched as the cat rummaged through piles of trash. There was a crash, then a loud startled squeak, before a mouse ran out and began to tear off down the alley. But Bailey was faster, leaping on the thing. Or rather, into it. She used her power again, merging with the rodent. Immediately, their joined body came to a halt.


    Slowly, Cassidy knelt down to stare as the combined animal turned to face her. It was a bit larger than the mouse had been, with a tail that was more cat-like than rodent, along with more gray fur and the paws of a cat. It was a mouse with some cat-like features.


    ¡°Ohhh I get it,¡± the girl murmured. ¡°You¡¯re small now. So you can hide in my pocket or my bag, right?¡±


    A part-meow, part-squeak came from the tiny animal, before she lifted her right paw.


    ¡°You¡¯re pretty smart,¡± Cassidy noted, before groaning as the tiny combined animal preened visibly. ¡°Ohh I¡¯m gonna regret saying that. But come on, I¡¯ll call an Uber and we can get out of here.¡± She put a hand down so the cat-mouse could scurry up her arm before dropping into the pocket of her hoody. ¡°You know what, Bailey? I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here. Something tells me I¡¯m really gonna need your help.¡±


    A single, proud-yet-determined squeak made Bailey¡¯s opinion on the subject completely clear.

 On The Clock 28-07

    Of course Jackson couldn''t just be quiet and let me stew in peace in the corner of the elevator until we made it all the way down and could go our separate ways. Oh no, he had to keep talking at me the entire time. He was doing his best to be friendly and asked me how I was doing. He even talked about his son a bit. But none of that helped. All I wanted to do was get off the elevator and away from him. Every time he said anything, all I heard was the voice of the man who had terrified me before stealing my memories. I had to stand there and pretend that the emotions I was feeling were only because my parents were sick.


    At least that helped cover some of it. I had no idea how I would have gotten through the whole thing without letting him know the truth if I didn''t have a very good reason to be upset right now. This elevator ride was only a few floors long, but we kept stopping at every single floor to let people on and off, including a rather extended bit on one floor where they had to hold the doors open to let a very elderly man who walked with a cane slowly make his way down the hall and get on.


    Through it all, Kent talked at me, and I did my very best to respond as appropriately as I should have. Thankfully, we weren''t super-close in the first place, plus he was my ex-boyfriend''s dad, so it made sense that there would be a little bit of awkwardness. At least, I hoped it made sense.


    I didn''t completely ignore him or anything. Nor did I turn around and punch him in the gut like part of me wanted to. It would''ve been satisfying for a moment, but it wouldn''t have solved anything. He''d only been doing what my parents asked him to. It wasn¡¯t like he snuck in and did it behind their backs. They thought they were helping. That was a whole big thing that I definitely needed to get into at some point, but in an elevator with the man who erased my memories was not the right time to do it. Especially not when my parents were in absolutely no condition to actually participate in that discussion. Or even understand it.


    Somehow, I made it all the way to the end of that agonizingly long ride. If we had been at one of my family''s office buildings and I had to go on a full fifty or sixty floor ride with him, I probably would have completely melted down. Finally, I stepped off the elevator, only to realize he was stepping off too. Of course he was, my time with him wasn''t over yet, we were both walking out of the building together. Fantastic, what a positively beautiful--


    ¡°Hey Cass!¡± It was Tomas. Obviously, he was here to meet up with his dad. And he wasn''t alone. Maki was there too, standing back a bit with a slight smile my way as Tomas approached. ¡°I didn''t know you were gonna be here today too. I uhh, sort of got the impression that you needed a break from this place after we talked yesterday.¡±


    Oh right, Sierra had told me a bit about that. Well, that she''d had a talk with Tomas as me anyway. She did say something about implying to him that I might not want to come visit every day for a bit, and that ¡®I¡¯ felt like it was getting too difficult to stand there and see my parents like that. Apparently she hadn''t been certain that I would want to come here immediately considering all the memories that had popped back into my head, and wanted to lay the groundwork for it if I felt like staying away. She thought I would be conflicted. And she was right about that, but I still came. I had to come.


    ¡°Yeah, it''s hard to see them like that,¡± I confirmed in a voice that actually cracked a little bit even though I wasn''t trying to make it do so. There was a quick rush of painful and confusing emotions that I shoved down before continuing. ¡°But I decided I needed to come anyway. Who knows, they might come out of it any day now.¡± I did intentionally inject my voice with a bit of na?ve hopefulness then. There was no way they would just spontaneously snap out of it, of course. Pittman wouldn''t create a bio-attack like that and just let it clear up on its own. Not a chance in hell. Still, the Cassidy they knew wouldn''t understand anything about that.


    The Cassidy they knew was kind of an idiot.


    Thomas and his dad exchanged a quick look. It made me wonder yet again just how much my ex actually knew about the whole situation. Was he completely on board with the whole Ministry thing by now? There was still a small part of me that was afraid that our entire relationship had been some sort of assignment to keep an eye on me. Or maybe our parents had simply set it up in order to have me be involved with the son of one of their lieutenants. Honestly, I really wasn''t sure being set up for that reason would actually be that much better than the whole keeping an eye on me for them as an official agent of the Ministry option. It was just bad in a different way.


    Well, now I definitely couldn''t just duck out that easily. Maki approached as well, and asked if I had heard anything about the Scions¡¯ claim that Cup had been infected while I was upstairs around all those doctors and nurses. My first instinct was to wonder why they thought any of those people would say anything in front of me. But then I realized the truth. They were simply changing the subject so I wouldn''t have to keep talking about my parents. Standing back out of the way, they had seen how uncomfortable I was and, quite understandably, decided it meant I didn''t want to think or talk about my mom and dad being like that. So they stepped in with a question that shifted the focus just enough.


    After a minute of that, Tomas and his dad had to step away to talk to one of the dark-suited men who came walking past. Part of me wanted to eavesdrop on that conversation to see what was so important, but I didn''t want to be caught doing so. Besides, I was also happy just to be away from Kent for a minute. I would have made it much longer and simply left while they were distracted, but Tomas asked me to wait a minute because he had something else to talk about. Sure, I could have played it off and promised to talk to him later, pretending I had something to do. But I froze up in that moment. I had no idea what he wanted to say to me, and my mind was running off on its own wild possibilities. Besides, them stepping away left me with Maki and I didn''t want to be rude. So, I found myself looking at them. Oh boy did I have so much I wanted to ask. Their own power clearly allowed them to shift back-and-forth between male and female, and given my own strange feelings on that whole subject, I felt like they would''ve been a good person to talk to about it. But how was I supposed to bring it up? It wasn''t like they were open about that sort of thing, and I could hardly tell them how I knew all of it. The only thing I would end up doing was freaking them out.


    So, rather than get into all that, especially right then and there, I simply asked, ¡°How¡¯s that tutoring thing going?¡± One of the earlier times I had spoken to them, they were at the school dealing with being set up with some extra tutoring in addition to their normal homeschooling. That was when¡­ grrr San Francisco had made them think I might still have feelings for Tomas because I was trying to find a guy to date again, or something.


    Which reminded me that I needed to take a minute and smack that guy sometime soon.


    Maki offered a faint smile. ¡°Oh, it is going well enough, Miss--ahh, Cassidy.¡± Their eyes met mine with a curious expression, like they were going to ask something but eventually changed their mind. Instead, they clearly switched to simply adding, ¡°With the amount of times your school has been closed early or opened late this past week, the teachers there have been available for extra sessions. It is quite good for my studies, but I am afraid you and your classmates may be suffering the consequences of my good academic fortune.¡±


    Right, that was a thing. Whenever any fighting in this stupid gang war took place too close to the schools, they had to shut down for a while. Still, I just shook my head. ¡°Don''t worry, we get plenty of studying done. There''s a reason our test scores are so high. Those teachers don''t let us slack off. But then, you probably know all about that. I can''t believe you deal with full homeschool and tutoring all together. Your parents sure keep you busy, don¡¯t they?¡±


    My words were met with a chuckle. ¡°You should know. I¡¯m told you are often quite busy as well. Though your extra work seems less focused on academics and more on¡­¡±


    For a second as they held that, my wild brain started going off about how they knew the truth about my secret identity and all that. Which was ridiculous, of course. But still, since when had something being ridiculous ever stopped my brain from insisting on it? Or, for that matter, prevented it from actually being true. Absurd things actually being the truth was basically my life twenty-four seven at this point.


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    But no, Maki just finished with, ¡°Playing the daredevil and tempting injury? From what I have been told, you spend quite a bit of your free time skateboarding and performing stunts that I am afraid would cause my own parents to¡­ ahh, freak out.¡± As soon as they said that, their face paled visibly upon realization while giving a quick glance around as though just remembering where we were and why I would be in this place. ¡°Oh. I--I am sorry. I should not have brought up parents, not when--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I quickly interrupted, not wanting to get into that or let them feel bad. ¡°I get it. And you''re right, sometimes I do some pretty dangerous stuff. Really dangerous.¡± My eyes flicked away briefly as a few specific memories played out quickly in my head. They really had absolutely no idea just how dangerous the stuff I got involved in really was. And how wild would it be if I just told them about it completely randomly? After doing so much to hide everything and protect myself, the wild urge to simply tell this near-stranger the truth out of nowhere was surprisingly tempting. It was weird, like when you stand at the edge of a long drop and some voice in the back of your head tells you to go ahead and step off.


    Well, that was probably less relevant here, since I actually listened to that voice pretty often. I jumped off buildings all the time, even before I got my powers. Granted, those were much lower drops and always had a pool or something to catch me. But still, the point was, I was told that most people didn¡¯t listen to that voice. Just like I didn''t listen to the one telling me to go ahead and randomly let Maki in on my secret. Besides, it was probably just my somewhat desperate wish to talk to them about the whole gender thing. That part of my subconscious thought that if I opened up to them, they could open up to me about their own stuff, and then I would have someone to actually talk to who would absolutely understand. Oh God did I want to talk to someone who could understan--


    But wait, I did have someone to talk to. Eits. He knew all about me, even my identity. He knew my secret and had kept completely to himself so far. Hell, he¡¯d even brought up the question of whether I was¡­ questioning back when he first found out I was using a voice changer. He wasn''t fluid himself or anything, but he had his own gender questions and had worked his way through them before settling on the fact that he was male. Why in the hell hadn¡¯t I thought about talking to him before?


    As I was realizing my options as far as that went, Tomas returned. His dad was still talking to that guy, but he had apparently excused himself. Seeing me there, the boy smiled. ¡°Thanks for waiting, Cass. I was just gonna say, you should come over tomorrow night for dinner. Mum¡¯s been hoping you¡¯d come back and visit. She¡¯s got some new recipe she really wants you to try, and she won¡¯t make it until you come. So, you know, you¡¯re sort of holding our taste buds hostage. We don¡¯t get to eat her new food until you¡¯re there.¡±


    Oh boy, what the hell was I supposed to say to that? How could I possibly stand to sit and eat dinner with his dad right there? But I couldn¡¯t explain why I didn¡¯t want to be around them, and anything I did would just look suspicious. Or they¡¯d think I was withdrawing because of my parents and probably push harder to ¡®help¡¯ me. Especially with my own parents in¡­ in their condition, Tomas¡¯s family would want to make sure I was okay. Even without the whole Ministry thing, they¡¯d probably feel obligated to. So¡­ fuck, what now? I couldn¡¯t just say no without risking exposing too much, one way or another.


    In the end, I had very little choice. No matter how uncomfortable it was, I just couldn''t think of a decent excuse that wouldn''t cause more problems down the line. So, after just a moment of frantic inward thought, I offered a shrug. ¡°Yeah, sure, I''ll text you later to figure out the details or whatever. I should probably head out for now. Lots of crazy stuff to do, you know.¡± I offered a wink at Maki. ¡°Airplanes to jump out of, burning hoops to jump through, stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey, wait,¡± Tomas interjected. ¡°Don''t be giving my boyfriend any wild ideas, you.¡± He pointed at me. ¡°You already gave me enough heart attacks for one lifetime. I don''t need you two sharing habits. Actually, come to think of it, I probably shouldn¡¯t let you talk at all.¡±


    That made me arch an eyebrow at him pointedly. ¡°Let us talk? You hear that Maki, he''s going to decide whether he should let us talk.¡± The smile on my face might have been a bit dangerous and highly manic.


    ¡°Oh yes?¡± Maki turned that way as well, staring at him just as intently. ¡°And what have you decided about what we are allowed to do?¡±


    ¡°Ah--that¡¯s not what I--um. Uh. Coming, Dad!¡± Tomas retreated, almost tripping over his feet as he pivoted and retreated that way.


    Snickering despite myself, I looked toward Maki. ¡°You should come to that dinner too, it¡¯d be cool.¡± And I would have one more person to help distract me from Kent.


    They considered me for a brief moment before giving a short nod. ¡°I will see if that is possible, thank you. But if this is because you think I don''t want you to spend time alone with Tomas just because of your shared history--¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I interrupted, ¡°it''s not like that. I just think it¡¯d be cool, that''s all. Seriously, we should hang out some more. I want to hear your stories about all the places you''ve been. I mean, you travel all over the place with your family, right?


    They nodded once. ¡°Yes, and I would like to hear some of your stories as well. I feel as though you have some exciting ones.¡±


    Yeah, they really had no idea. Or at least I hoped they didn¡¯t, or I was a lot worse at keeping my secrets than I thought. But either way, I managed to excuse myself and headed out. I had to get away and clear my head. Besides, we had other stuff to deal with. Fortunately, that meant I had plenty to distract myself with.


    There was no chance constantly switching between distracting myself from my real life with my Touched life and distracting myself from my Touched life with my real life would backfire at any point, right?


    Yeah, it was probably fine.


    ********


    After sending a message to Izzy to check on how that whole thing with clearing out those gang members had gone, I changed into my costume and headed back to the shop to see what was going on there. On the way, I got another message letting me know Wren and the others had all gone out to get a few things, so the place was empty for the moment.


    But while the shop itself was empty, as I was heading up through the alley, I could see two figures seated against one of the walls. Well, seated was probably a bad term. It was more like they were slumped down there, either from exhaustion or injury. Either way, they weren¡¯t trying to hide or anything. Though they were dressed in black and wearing dark masks. Still, they held their hands up to show that they were empty, and didn¡¯t seem to be doing anything untoward.They were just sitting there, like they were waiting for me.


    ¡°Uh,¡± I started hesitantly, ¡°can I help you? Who are you?¡± Fuck, if they were strangers who somehow knew about this place and¡­ yeah this could get complicated. And we really didn¡¯t need even more complicated things right now.


    ¡°Please.¡± One of the figures spoke up, sounding equal parts exhausted and terrified. It was like her adrenaline had completely run dry but she was still panicked. ¡°W-we need your help. They said we should come find you if anything went wrong, they gave us the address. We¡¯ve been waiting, because we didn¡¯t know where else to go.¡±


    Only then did I realize the masked figures were smaller than I¡¯d thought. They didn¡¯t look like they were any older than me. Actually, they were probably younger.


    ¡°Who?¡± I found myself demanding in confusion. ¡°Who gave you this address?¡±


    ¡°Pack,¡± the other figure replied, sounding just as winded as their partner. ¡°Pack said we should come get help. He¡­ he took them. He took all of them. We tried to stop him, but he had help. We tried, I swear, we were trying but he-they all--¡±


    ¡°What? Who? Hang on, what do you mean, ¡®he?¡¯ What¡¯s going on?¡± I needed them to start over, because I was lost. But I was starting to think Pack was in some real trouble.


    Except it was so much worse than that. The two masked figures looked at one another before the female, the one who had spoken up first, answered, ¡°It¡¯s Whamline. He¡¯s a bad guy. He¡¯s one of the Scion candidates. We were trying to catch him, but he and the other candidates ambushed the rest of the Minority, and our group. Pack, Eits, Broadway, Grandstand, they all got taken with That-A-Way, Raindrop, Carousel, Wobble, and Syndicate. That was the real target, the whole ¡®hundreds of civilians¡¯ thing was a distraction.


    ¡°They¡¯ve got five Stars and four Fells, and they¡¯re going to kill all of them to earn their spots in the Scions.¡±

 On The Clock 28-08

    Okay, obviously I wasn''t just going to take the word of a couple of complete strangers I didn''t know anything about when they showed up and told me Izzy, along with Amber, Pack, Eits, Broadway, Wobble, Syndicate, and Grandstand were all about to be killed by Scion candidates. Or that Whamline was one of them. Hell, for all I knew, these two were a couple of the candidates and I was their target. Still, the question remained of how they would know about this place and be able to come here. Not that it was out of the question for them to have found it some way without one of the others willingly giving it to us. Which was a thought that made me shudder, anger and panic rising in me.


    The first thing I did was hit both of them, with a bit of red paint, along with the wall behind them. The two were yanked back against that wall and held there. I would¡¯ve apologized, but I still didn¡¯t know if I could trust them. And I was too busy anyway, yanking the phone from my pocket as I called Izzy. Fuck, fuck! I felt a rush of completely overwhelming panic and terror as she failed to answer. After that I tried Amber, then Pack. No, no, no, no! Spinning on my heel, I faced the other two even as the paint wore off and they dropped back to the ground. ¡°Who are you?!¡± I found myself blurting. ¡°What the hell is going on? Where are they?!¡± I told myself to breathe, to let them answer, but the thought of all those people I cared about being taken by people who were trying to become Scions was enough to shatter every semblance of self-control I had. It was all I could do to hold myself together as much as I was.


    The obvious female figure spoke up. ¡°L-look, we know you''re freaking out right now. We are too. But we''re telling you the truth, and there¡¯s not a lot of time. They need your help. We need your help. It''s exactly like we said. Whamline is one of the candidates. We were watching him and the rest of the Minority, trying to catch him in a way that could prove what he was for the courts or whatever, but the rest of the candidates ambushed us from all sides. It was a trap. I don''t know how they knew that we knew about Whamline, but they did.¡±


    The boy nodded his head rapidly. ¡°We got away, and this was the only place we could think to come. Before all this went down, Pack told us we should come here and find you if the shit hit the fan. I swear, she gave us the name of this place. B-but, but Eits, he told us you helped him with a baseball. Does that help? Please, please, we have to help them, we need you to trust us. Whamline¡¯s a psycho piece of shit and all his fellow ¡®candidates¡¯ are just as bad.¡±


    ¡°And now they¡¯re gonna make a big production about killing all of them. They all want to join the Scions at the same time.¡± the girl hurriedly added. ¡°So that¡¯s their big move, not the whole ¡®killing a certain number of normal civilians.¡¯ That¡¯s too--too--you know, mundane for Pencil right now!¡± Her voice rose to a frantic shout, the girl clearly as panicked as I was feeling.


    ¡°So he¡¯ll have them kill a bunch of Touched instead,¡± I murmured, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. My stomach was rolling, tears trying to flood my eyes before I managed to blink them back forcefully. ¡°Star-Touched and Fells. That makes a perfect statement for him, it shows his people are outside the normal system. It¡¯s all part of his fucking games. It¡¯s all--¡±


    Fuck, it didn¡¯t matter! None of his motivations mattered. The only thing that mattered was saving the others. ¡°Where are they? You said you escaped, so where are they right now?¡±


    ¡°We can take you there,¡± the boy agreed hurriedly, head bobbing. ¡°But you need help, we all need help. There¡¯s a bunch of them, and only three of us. We have powers but not--not like this. We can¡¯t¡­ can¡¯t do this without your team.¡± He sounded like he was barely keeping himself from completely losing it, his voice cracking from stress and terror about what could happen. I definitely knew the feeling. And hearing the emotion in his voice as he obviously realized how in over their heads they were did more than anything else to convince me that they were telling the truth. I really didn''t think they were that good of liars even if I had just met them.


    Sending an SOS 911 message to all the others with just a few words about what was happening, I focused on those two once more. ¡°Show me where we''re going. The others will meet us there, but if they''re in trouble, we can''t wait.¡± I was doing my level best to keep my voice as calm as possible. These two were already losing it, I couldn''t make the situation even worse by joining in. No matter how much terror I felt right then. If anything happened to Izzy, or to any of the others, I would-- No. No one was going to die. I couldn''t think about that. I had to focus.


    Speaking quickly and still frantically, the two introduced themselves as Facs and Yeet, for the boy and the girl respectively. Apparently they had been working with Carousel and Syndicate to try to identify something about some people who had been trying to abduct them, and they ended up tripping over Grandstand and her group looking into who had arranged to have that reporter lady killed. Which, if they were right about what they came up with, was actually Whamline. That revelation was enough to send me reeling on its own. And it made me angry. A cold fury and rage kept boiling up in my stomach when I thought about the fact that both Izzy and Amber had been around that piece of shit for so long. Any person who would start trying to join the Scions like that, knowing what they were, deserve to rot on Breakwater.


    And now he and his fellow candidates had those two and all the others. They had Eits, they had-- fuck!


    At least it turned out that Yeet had her own way to get around. She produced some glowing egg things and then when she hit someone with them, it transformed them into energy and sent them flying off in her chosen direction. She couldn''t produce them constantly, at least not fast enough to keep all three of us moving like that, but between my power and hers, we crossed a lot of distance very quickly. Plus, Facs¡¯ own power allowed him to create glowing energy ¡®facsimiles¡¯ of things he could touch, including air. He used that to make bridges and such to extend our travel capabilities even more.


    If I hadn''t been so panicked and angry, I might''ve actually enjoyed it. But I didn''t care about that. I hardly noticed the actual trip, as it was all just a blurry haze once we got the idea of how to move together. I barely knew who these two were, but they were my only chance of finding my sister and the others.


    On the way, I did a couple other things, I called that same number for the Ministry from before and told them what was going on. I didn''t even care about holding back information, at least when it came to this. As soon as the man on the other end answered, I told him every person who had been kidnapped and that Whamline was one of the people behind it. I told him that the Minority bastard was one of the candidates for the Scions, and that they should spread the word to listen when I sent the call to official sources for help. I didn''t know how hard it would be to convince the rest of the Star-Touched that I wasn''t full of shit, but I figured having the Ministry leaning on them could only help. That group might as well be good for something right now.


    As soon as I was sure the guy I was talking to understood what I was saying and that this wasn''t a prank, I disconnected and called Ten Towers instead. These people at least I was sure would listen. Especially since I was calling Caishen. She would believe me. Hell, maybe I should¡¯ve just called her first to begin with. But the idea of calling the Ministry was right at the top of my head since we had just gone through that whole thing with taking Rubi to the--


    It didn¡¯t fucking matter, focus!


    I was running across another rooftop, screaming inside my head to hurry up while the other two trailed right behind me. I was following their lead about where to go, while listening to the phone ring. Finally, the woman in question answered, starting to tell me to hang on a moment. But I shouted right over her, telling her what was going on, to get every single person she could together if she wanted to save those people and stop the Scion candidate, including Whamline the traitor, from killing basically the rest of the Minority and several others.


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    Even as I said that, I could hear fighting going on in the background. They were busy. Shit, shit! They were busy, of course they were. With everything that was going on already in this city, combined with the ticking clock that Pencil had established, why wouldn''t they be? Even as I silently screamed curses, Caishen said they would be there the moment they could get away from what they were doing, and to send her the location as soon as I had it. There was the slightest pause before she told me to be careful. I think she probably would''ve said a few more things if she understood that I wasn''t with the rest of my team. But now wasn''t the time to get into it. Let her think I had everyone with me. They¡¯d be there soon anyway¡­ I hoped.


    She also promised to call every other group to find someone that could meet us there, and said she would spread the word about the location once I sent it to her. Right, so now I had her and the Ministry pushing people to get their asses in gear. And, at that moment, I had a call from Paige, just as my two new companions and I used a splatter of blue paint to launch ourselves halfway across the long gap between two buildings. Before I could answer, Yeet hit all three of us with a few of her eggs, sending us clear to the far side of that roof. As we came out of it and reformed into our physical forms, I hit the edge of that roof with another shot of blue, propelling us to the third building we¡¯d been on in about the same number of seconds.


    Only then, once we landed, did I answer the call from Paige. ¡°Tell me you¡¯re on the way!¡± I really didn''t want to hear about any other problems right then. I couldn''t handle it. If the others had gotten hung up with something else--


    ¡°I¡¯m tracking your phone,¡± came her quick response. ¡°We¡¯ll catch up with you as soon as we can. Paintball, don''t do anything crazy, don''t--¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I have to do,¡± I interrupted before disconnecting. It was bad, it was wrong, I knew that. But I was panicking. If anything happened to those guys, I didn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t know how I would get through it. Izzy. I had to save Izzy. No matter what happened, and no matter what I had to do, I was going to get her, and everyone else, out of there.


    Finally, I sent a message to Cavalcade, telling her we needed help, why, and that I would pay her whatever fee she needed as long as she showed up to help.


    I knew how dangerous this was. Jennica by herself was a major threat, and Whamline had plenty of experience as a member of the Minority. One who had managed to go unnoticed for this long. Plus there were five others with their own powers, apparently. I asked these two for any details, but they said they didn''t see that much. There was just a lot of light and sound, and several of the others were caught with some sort of special stay-down cuffs that had been launched at them somehow. Grandstand was knocked unconscious by something before they even knew there was a problem.


    These two would¡¯ve gotten everyone out of there if they could, but Yeet only had one egg for each hand at that point, and it took time for her to ¡®cook¡¯ more. Time they didn¡¯t have. So she had catapulted herself and the boy, whom I was pretty sure was her brother given the way they talked, moments before they would''ve been taken. It all happened so quickly and suddenly that they didn''t have a chance to really see everyone who was attacking.


    They did, however, know where the Scion wannabes had taken the others. After escaping, they hid and watched as the rest were loaded into a moving truck. Then they¡¯d followed the truck as it drove to another building. That was when they heard Whamline talking to someone about how Pencil wanted them to make a big show out of killing every single one of them to show how serious he was about getting the cure to save his sister. But he didn¡¯t want it to just happen immediately. They had to do something special with it. They were talking about only killing half of them and using the other half for leverage, waiting until the end of the first deadline, or even just to the end of the day. Apparently there was a lot of debate between the seven candidates about how they should go about it.


    Hearing that, Yeet and Facs had been about to talk themselves into trying to rescue the others when they remembered what Pack and Eits had said about my group being able to help. Unfortunately, we weren¡¯t at the pawn shop when they showed up. So they had been in the middle of collecting themselves to go back and try to rescue the others by themselves when I had arrived.


    It was very obvious the two of them felt horrible about running away, and about not having more details they could share. But I reminded them that if they hadn''t escaped, we wouldn''t even know this much. Hell, the only reason we knew where these fuckers had taken their hostages at all was that they were brave enough to follow the truck even after they saw how easily the seven Scion candidates captured the others. They saw all that, they knew how dangerous it was, and they still followed them. Plus they were smart enough to go and get help.


    I had a lot more questions about the two of them, including where they had come from considering I certainly had never heard of anyone with their powers. But now wasn''t the time. There wasn''t time for anything else except dealing with this and getting the others away from those psychopaths.


    Fortunately, it was around that time when we finally arrived at the edge of the building across the street from where my two companions said the others were being held. All three of us dropped down to our stomachs just to be on the safe side and very carefully peaked over the edge. The building we were on was a covered parking garage, while the place the wannabe Scions were holed up in turned out to be a storage facility. It was the main building with its own units, as well as a whole lot full of several more structures behind it. According to these two, there were no workers at the facility. At least no one who was still alive. The entrance was covered by an electronic gate, and we could see a camera watching over it. In fact, there were cameras all around the facility, including on the roof. The people who owned that place clearly took security very seriously. And there was no doubt that Whamline and the others were using those cameras to see if anyone approached.


    Fuck, seriously, Whamline was a traitor? Worse, he wanted to be one of Pencil¡¯s fucking people? Sure, I hadn''t interacted with him a lot, but he had seemed okay when I had. Hell, he had basically checked me out to warn me about not doing anything to hurt his teammates. Now I bet he had gotten a pretty good laugh about that.


    I was going to punch that fucker so hard¡­


    First, however, I sent the pin of our location to Caishen, then to the number I had for the Ministry, and finally to Cavalcade. Then I checked on the rest of my team. But they were still too far out. Paige swore they were coming as fast as they could. Everyone was going to do everything possible to get here in time. We just had to watch the place, take the time to figure out everything we could about everyone who was in there and what they could do, where the hostages were, all of that. We had to make sure we were ready once the cavalry arrived.


    Which, of course, was the exact moment when we all saw a car arrive at the gate. Someone in a purple ski mask and lime green raincoat came jogging out of the nearby office, just as a familiar figure stepped out. He was a shorter guy, standing only five-foot seven, with a rather wiry build. The only reason he stood out was because of his ¡®costume,¡¯ such as it was. It consisted of a dark green sweatshirt with the hood up over his head, a black cloth mask over the bottom half of his face, and gray jeans that were covered in blood stains.


    It was Box, the actual Scion whose power allowed him to create orbs that he could throw, which broke apart into blasts of earth, water, air, or fire whenever they hit something. He walked around to the trunk of the car, took out a shotgun, before nodding to the figure in the green raincoat. His voice was faint, but I could barely make it out. ¡°Let¡¯s show these pigs how serious we are. Boss wants two of those fuckers dead. He picked the little one and the one with the lizards. One from each side. We¡¯ll stream it for shits and giggles.¡±


    No. Oh no. We didn¡¯t have time to wait for the others to arrive, to scout the place out, to find out¡­ anything. Box was already going in there, the shotgun in his hands.


    If we didn¡¯t do something right now, Izzy and Pack were about to die.

 On The Clock 28-09

    On the way over here, the boy, Facs, had told (and shown) me what he was capable of, making solid-energy duplicates of things he touched. Which included air itself, turning it into forcefields, ramps, and so on. We had used that a couple times to cross distances that were a bit too far for me to do with my powers alone while Yeet was still charging up her eggs, so we wouldn¡¯t have to slow down at all.


    Well, technically I could go further using paint combinations, but I had been trying to save as much as possible for when we got here. Not to mention avoiding running out during the actual trip. With all three of us working together, we¡¯d made it across what felt like half the city in record time, without me showing up here and having to wait a minute for my paint to recharge.


    So I knew what my two companions could do. But I also knew they were really new to all this. I was absolutely certain that if they''d had much experience, I would have heard of them. There was something about the pair that was familiar, but I was too distracted to put my finger on it. Instead, all I could do in those couple seconds, as my eyes stared at Box heading into the building, was scream in the back of my head. I had to do something right now. I couldn''t wait for reinforcements. I couldn''t wait to have any more help than these two kids I barely knew. They were going to kill Izzy and Pack!


    I couldn''t let that happen. I wouldn''t let it happen. Instead, I shoved every bit of panic, terror, and self-doubt into a bag and pushed it deep down. I locked it away and forgot about it for the moment. That was the only thing I could do if we were going to get through this. Now wasn''t the time for any of it. It was the time to act.


    All of that ran through my head in what felt like several minutes, but somehow, only a second or two had passed since Box made that announcement. He hadn''t even made it to the door yet, standing there laughing with the guy in the lime-green coat about what they were about to do. Either my adrenaline had launched into the stratosphere, or I had somehow manifested some version of Rubi¡¯s time stop.


    If only.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get their attention on me,¡± I started quickly while pushing myself up from the lying position I had been in as we peered over the roof. ¡°You guys wait until you see part of one of those walls in the storage place down there turn pink. As soon as it does, that¡¯ll be where the others are. Get through the pink wall so you can free them.¡± I was talking as quickly as I could think, already taking a couple steps back to get some room to run while hitting that spot of the roof with a mix of blue and green. I needed distance and speed for this.


    ¡°What?¡± Facs gave a double-take. I could see the sudden fear in the eyes through his ski mask. ¡°You can¡¯t go down there by yourself! There¡¯s like a half dozen Fells down there, at least!¡±


    ¡°Then I guess we better even up the odds,¡± I retorted. ¡°By you guys freeing the others. And I¡¯m gonna need a distraction. Yeet, you see that car Box came in with? I think it¡¯s time you lived up to your name.¡± Even as I said that, I painted an image of a sword on my back made of a purple blade with an orange hilt that was held by a green hand. I had other images all across my costume and body too, having put them there on the way here, as well as on the other two so I could activate them at any point. All three of us were basically covered in my paint. I just had to hope it was enough.


    I was terrified, sick to my stomach, ready to drop to my knees and cry over the very thought of losing Izzy if I screwed this up. But just like every other piece of doubt and fear, I shoved it down in that bag and kept going, pretending I knew what I was doing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, guys. I¡¯m a professional.¡±


    Then I took a running start, hit that green-blue spot and rocketed myself off the building, telling myself to trust that the girl would do her part.


    She did. Even as I went sailing over the edge of the roof, I saw one of her eggs go flying down to hit the car below. Instantly, it transformed into energy and flew forward through the solid gate without damaging it. What it did damage, however, was the dumpster it crashed into after shifting back to its solid shape. And it did so loudly and dramatically. Which surprised the people down there, to say the least. I heard a couple shouts, one of them from Box as they all whirled that way. Maybe knowing they were under attack would make him decide to give the order to kill everyone in there. But they were going to kill them anyway. I had to hope that doing this would buy the few seconds I needed to figure out where the others were so I could mark the wall for those two. My attempt to sound confident aside, there were multiple Fell-Touched down there, most of whom had completely unknown powers and one of whom had been part of the Minority for like a year. I absolutely could not do this all by myself. Not for long.


    My guess was that the others were being held in the main building, not one of the other storage structures spaced throughout the property. After all, Box had been heading for that door when he said they were going to kill them. So, that was the building I aimed for first. Seeing the roof looming under me as my forward momentum stalled and the downward momentum picked up, I pointed my hands down and shot black and pink paint that way to create a circle. As I dropped, I activated the green-orange-purple sword image. Then I hit the pink circle with enough force to crash straight down through it. Silently, of course, thanks to the black paint. The building was three stories tall, and now I was on the top floor, landing right in the middle of a hallway full of doors with padlocks on them. More storage rooms. I hit the floor there in a crouch, having reacted quickly enough after crashing through the ceiling to hit the floor under me with another shot of black to silence my actual landing. Outside, I could hear another shout. They were still reacting to the whole thing with the car.


    The second I landed, my head snapped to the right, then to the left. The hallway was empty, no one was here. Which had to mean the others weren¡¯t being held in any of these storage rooms. Grimacing to myself, I shot pink paint straight ahead, at one of the padlocked doors themselves. It created a circle that I was able to throw myself through, diving forward. The combination of the fragility created by the pink paint, and my own purple-boosted strength, meant I could tear right through it like it was paper.


    I didn''t pay any attention to the contents of the storage room. Instead, I simply vaulted over a couple boxes that were in my way, hit the back wall with another bit of pink and tore through that as well. That put me in the next hallway over, in front of another line of padlocked rooms. But this time, there was something else. I saw a man with his back to me about fifteen feet away to the left. He stood about an inch over six feet tall, with what looked like dark orange chainmail, black leather pants, and a dark motorcycle helmet not too unlike my own. He held a long chain in one hand that trailed along the floor, making loud metallic sounds as it went. He was walking away from me. At least until he seemed to process the sound of my arrival and started to turn.


    I didn''t give him time to finish pivoting. My left hand snapped out to send a shot of red paint at his back, while the right sent a corresponding shot the opposite way. Then I activated both and sent him flying toward me. Before he could sail past, my arm went up and out. I still had a second or two of purple and orange from the sword image, literally clotheslining the man. The impact still smacked my arm out of the way, but it hurt him far worse, knocking the man to the floor. And he was still being yanked by the red paint, so his body slid that way. As he kept going, I hit him with a shot of black and purple so he couldn¡¯t shout for help. The purple part expanded the silencing effect so the wall didn¡¯t make any noise when he hit it either.


    Unfortunately, even as he crashed into the wall I had sent him flying toward, the man lashed out with that chain. It extended, going out several times its normal length before wrapping around my arm. The next thing I knew, he was yanking me off the floor as the chain retracted and pulled me rapidly down the hall toward him. I managed to activate a couple spots of orange to renew my defenses just as his fist slammed into my shoulder. Even with that, he was strong enough that I felt the pain from it. It hurt more than a bullet would have. This guy had super strength and the ability to make his chain longer? Yeah, I wasn¡¯t sure about the specifics, and didn¡¯t have time to dwell.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Instead, even as his fist collided with my shoulder, I was flipping myself backwards, managing to rip my wrist away from his chain. Falling toward the floor, I lashed out with my foot, kicking the man in the chin. It hit the helmet, but his head was still knocked backward against the wall he was pinned to.


    Instead of landing hard on my back from the fall, I turned the maneuver into a backward roll. On the way, I made a green-blue circle on the floor while simultaneously canceling the red paint that was holding the man against the wall. He dropped forward, stumbling to catch himself. Which positioned him right on that circle just as I activated it so he was launched hard into the ceiling. But he still had that black-purple paint, so no one could hear it.


    There wasn''t time for this. It had only taken a couple of seconds, but that felt like forever. Even as the man slammed into the ceiling, I created a quick pink square on the floor where the blue-purple circle had been before I canceled it. He rebounded and fell, crashing straight down into the pink. The impact was enough to stick him partway through it with his elbows, knees, and part of his right torso embedded in the pink square. Before he could recover, I canceled the paint early. That would have made the surface bouncy, but he was already partially inside it, so he couldn¡¯t rebound off. Instead, the once-pink floor suddenly turned solid, trapping him there. Not that I trusted him to stay that way considering the strength I¡¯d already felt, but it was enough to slow him down so I could produce a set of stay-down cuffs from the pocket of my suit. The next thing the guy knew, I had attached them to his wrists while he was still trying to sort out what had just happened. He¡¯d dropped his chain when he hit the ceiling, and it was lying nearby, looking completely ordinary.


    Without wasting another second, I pushed myself to my feet more and jumped over him. Time, time, there wasn¡¯t fucking time! All of this, everything since the moment Box had said he was there to kill Izzy and Pack, had taken maybe a minute and a half. That included the instructions I had given the others. But it felt like an eternity. It felt like I was wasting time, like my slowness and incompetence was going to get my little sister killed!


    Panic. It was panic, and I shoved it aside angrily. None of that was useful. None of it would help. Instead, I made another pink circle and stomped down on it. Some part of me thought I should ask the chain guy where the hostages were, but I didn''t trust him to be honest. And I definitely didn''t trust how long it would take, even if I could convince him. This was a guy who had signed up for Club Serial Killers. He wasn''t going to tell me anything useful.


    Making a hole in the floor, I jumped down, even as the sound of a shotgun blast from outside sent a shock of fear through me. Please, please just be Box trying to get the other two to show themselves. If they had jumped in already and were being attacked--fuck! No, don¡¯t think about that! Focus, focus, focus!


    Even as I landed on the second floor, I knew I was in the right place. Mostly because there were two guards standing outside one of the storage rooms, which had some sort of device on a tripod set up sending a beam of energy at the door that spread out across it like some sort of shield. Was that how they were keeping everyone contained? It did look somewhat similar to the shield that was around that apartment building, though on a smaller scale. Maybe this was a prototype. Either way, what I did know for certain was that I needed to knock down that machine.


    Unfortunately, the two people standing guard weren¡¯t about to make that easy. One of them, the nearest to me, was wearing a long army coat that reached past his knees as well as black body armor, and what looked like a bear mask with actual fur. As he whirled my way, the figure let out a loud roar that actually made me stagger backwards from the volume. That roar was followed by a blast of concussive energy that collided with my chest and sent me flying against the wall. And that was followed by a bolt of lightning-like energy that flickered on its way to me. I managed to dive out of the way at the last second, letting the energy collide with the wall I had just hit. Everywhere it struck, the energy left what looked like mushroom spores which promptly popped and filled the air with red-gold dust. Which--yeah I wasn¡¯t going anywhere near that stuff. I wasn¡¯t sure what it did, but it definitely wasn''t anything positive for me.


    Meanwhile, the other guy was reacting too. Or rather, other girl, I realized a second later as I was rolling back to my feet. She was a woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, wearing what was clearly meant to be royal clothes, like a Medieval queen or princess costume complete with a tiara and purple and gold cloak. The moment her eyes fell on me, a hazy image of a knight in armor appeared in front of her. No, not a knight. There were five of them, all armed with various weapons including a one-handed sword, a much larger broadsword, a flail, a spear, and a heavy hammer. All five looked semi-translucent and were made of some sort of purple energy. And all of them were coming at me, already swinging those weapons.


    In that moment, I stopped thinking and reacted. Activating wings of green paint that ran all the way down my sides, including my legs, I launched myself forward. The first ghost-figure was swinging his massive sword straight at my side in a wide arc. I gave my feet a tiny bit of blue to launch myself up and over the blade in a flip, coming down on the shaft of the spear that the second ghost was stabbing toward me. Sure enough it felt solid as I landed on it. The spear was shoved down by the impact, carrying the ghost forward into me. Or it would have, if I hadn¡¯t dropped into a roll while coming off the edge of the spear shaft, allowing the figure to stumble past behind me. The third ghost was slamming his hammer down onto the spot where I was rolling, but I activated the purple-yellow parachute image on my stomach while simultaneously canceling the green speed boost, abruptly slowing myself dramatically so that the hammer struck the floor harmlessly about a foot away from me.


    Just as suddenly, I canceled the yellow slow and reactivated my speed using the image of a pair of green sneakers and socks that were literally painted over my feet on the inside of my shoes. I was up in an instant, pivoting sideways around that ghost, which put me directly in front of the one with the shorter sword. He tried stabbing that blade into me as I appeared, but I wasn¡¯t just standing up. I was coming out of my crouch into a leap, using a mix of blue on the bottom of my shoes and purple along the inside of my legs for a strength boost to hurl myself up and over the ghost and his swinging sword.


    Finally, the ghost with the flail stood directly in front of their creator, swinging his weapon at my form as I leapt up and over his last partner. The flail went right through me, literally cutting me in half¡­ because I had immediately painted my torso pink. It felt weird, to say the least. That chain flail thing just sort of chopped through my pink costume and body with a weird, gross schlooping sound. As soon as the chain tore through me, my pink-painted form just sort of¡­ reattached properly, coming back together.


    Yeah, it was weird. But hey, it worked. My momentum carried me all the way past the surprised flail-wielding ghost so I could collide with his creator. Slamming into her, I carried both of us to the floor. As soon as we were down, my fist collided with her face, as I was still boosted by the purple paint I¡¯d used for the jump. Her head rocked backward with a yelp, and all those ghosts vanished.


    Twisting as I rolled off her, my hand shot a spray of pink paint at the nearby wall. I had to hope those other two would see it. More importantly, I needed to clear the way. So, I hit the floor with a bit more pink paint, right past the man in the bear mask as he pivoted back to find me once more, making a wide square along the floor. Before he could scream again, I had already hit him and the regal woman with red paint, sending her flying into him. Then, while both were stumbling backward from the impact, I launched myself that way as well. My body collided with theirs, making all of us fall onto and through the pink-painted floor. On the way down, I managed one last red paint shot toward the machine, activating a corresponding bit on my own body so that it was yanked after us.


    We landed hard on the first level, as I barely managed to throw myself out of the way before bear-guy¡¯s scream would have torn through me. Just like before, it came in three stages, an audio portion that was deafeningly loud, followed immediately by a concussive blast and then lightning that left dust-producing mushroom spores.


    With some effort, I managed to roll sideways, coming back to my feet in time to realize that I was in trouble. To my left, the bear guy and regal woman were picking themselves up. They had been joined by a much-more familiar figure¡­ Whamline.


    Meanwhile, to my right, Box and the guy in the lime-green coat had appeared.


    Well, I definitely had their attention. Now I just had to hope I could survive long enough for Facs and Yeet to free the others.

 On The Clock 28-10

    Five people. Five Fell-Touched--one of whom had pretended to be a hero for over a year-- were all surrounding me in this single wide hallway. Four of whom were these wannabe Scions. Which meant, counting the one guy I had already handcuffed, two of the candidates were missing, Jennica and one other I didn''t know. And unless they decided to show up soon, I wouldn¡¯t get the chance to, because these five would kill me first.


    That was me, always being positive. I wouldn¡¯t have to fight the missing two Scions candidates if these ones killed me before they got here.


    Thinking quickly, I forced my voice to stay as casual as possible, which wasn¡¯t exactly easy under the circumstances. ¡°Nope, sorry, we can''t do this now. I mean seriously, I went through all this trouble to meet all seven of the idiot wannabe posers. If there''s only five of you here--I mean six with Box but who cares about him-- it''s hardly worth it. But hey, if you can call your two friends over here so we can all party together, I don''t mind waiting.¡±


    I wanted these people to stop and talk at me, maybe rant a little bit. Anything to give Yeet and Facs more time to free the others. Or even for the rest of my team to show up. Not to mention the other heroes and authorities who should have been called in by now. I had every reason to want this dragged out.


    Unfortunately, they didn''t fall for it. Whamline immediately snapped, ¡°He''s stalling for help, it''s what he does. Take him down now.¡± He was breathing hard for some reason, making me think he¡¯d had to rush to get over here from wherever he had been.


    And that was the end of our conversation, at least as far as they were concerned. Box, who had been standing back and watching all this, immediately lashed out with both hands, sending a couple orbs my way. Or rather, at the walls on either side of me. The balls struck the brick there before exploding into a pair of stone pillars that were perfectly shaped to catch and hold me in place for the others to do whatever they wanted.


    At least, that was his idea. But I had already activated blue paint on my shoes and green on my legs as I hurled myself forward and up. As the stone pillars exploded into place around me, I barely managed to slip through, twisting in the air just in time to pull my ankle through the last little gap in the rapidly-closing space.


    That put me on the side of the stone trap with Box and the guy in the lime green coat. I could do something about these two, then--


    Just as I was having that thought while starting to drop into a roll, the stone trap was shattered into dust by a long energy coil. It caught hold of my ankle even before I hit the floor and swung sideways, sending me flying toward the nearby wall. I barely had time to activate an orange bird shape on my arm before slamming hard into the brick there. It was enough to stun me. But I knew that didn''t matter. I had to fight through the pain. Even as the coil from Whamline yanked me back off the wall to send me flying face first toward the other one, I made my ankle pink. With another gross schlooping sound, the coil went right through my pants, skin, muscle, bone, everything, before slapping against the wall by itself.


    Of course, I was still flying toward that same wall, just not quite as fast. Pointing both hands backwards over my head, I sent a shot of red paint at both Box and the green coat guy. Then I simultaneously activated both of those spots as well as the red I had just put on my gloves. That was enough to yank the two together, slamming them into one another while I was pulled that way too. Before they could recover, I canceled the red paint and flipped myself over in the air so my feet came down on each of their left shoulders. I rebounded off of them like that, but that wasn¡¯t all. I had put blue paint on my shoes again, so I was sent rocketing much further back down the hall than I should¡¯ve been. At the same time, those two were knocked to the floor by the force of the impact. Both of them let out grunts of pain that were incredibly satisfying in that moment.


    Not that it was all sunshine and roses on my end. Something appeared in the air next to me even as I was using another shot of red to pull myself toward the ceiling. It was one of that regal lady¡¯s ghosts. Before I could react, the heavy mace this one was using slammed into me. It was lucky that I still had active orange paint from a few seconds earlier, or that would¡¯ve done a lot of damage. As it was, the force still knocked me hard into the floor.


    Once again, I felt one of Whamline¡¯s coils grab my ankle. The other one this time. I started to do the same thing I¡¯d done before to get free, but the coil was already releasing me. He just yanked me up in the air, then let go even as his coil appeared right in front of my face.


    ¡°Oh shi--¡± I managed while instantly giving myself another shot of orange protection with a laughing emoji face that appeared on my chest. I still had the first bit of orange for another few seconds, of course. But this felt like something I¡¯d need a boost for.


    I was right. The next thing I knew, the coil exploded in my face. That was the rest of Whamline¡¯s power. He didn¡¯t just make energy ropes that could fling people around and whatever else, he also made those ropes explode into blasts of concussive energy. Concussive energy which, in this case, was enough to feel like a sledgehammer to my helmet and chest, knocking the wind out of me as I was sent pinwheeling backwards to crash into the far wall. A second later, the floor came up and smacked me almost as hard as I slid off that wall and collapsed forward.


    And, of course, because that wasn¡¯t enough, I lifted myself into a kneeling position just in time to see the bear mask guy focusing on me. My hand rose, but before I could do anything, his bellow slammed into me. I hit the wall again, even as a crack appeared in my visor. Worse, the bolt of lightning that followed the sonic attack slammed into my chest. If I hadn¡¯t  been protected by my orange paint, I probably would¡¯ve died right then. As it was, my entire body spasmed violently, and I smelled something burning. It wasn¡¯t anywhere near as bad as the near-miss I¡¯d taken from Cu¨¦lebre, but it still wasn¡¯t good. Worse, those mushroom spores started to grow right on my costume. If they exploded into that dust stuff directly in my face¡­


    No, I couldn¡¯t let that happen. Even as I was gasping for air, as my body was still spasming from the electrical shock while the pain of being slammed into the walls repeatedly left my muscles crying out, I focused through all of that enough to cover my chest in blue paint before activating it instantly. The mushrooms were sent rocketing off my costume, flying forward just as they burst into that cloud of dust.


    Which would have given me a second to breathe and ready myself, but regal lady¡¯s ghost was still there. The thing¡¯s semi-translucent hand yanked me off the floor by my arm while I was still desperately trying to catch my breath. It yanked me up so hard it almost felt like it was yanking my shoulder out of alignment, sending another wave of pain through me. Its mace had transformed into a sword. Or maybe this was a different ghost altogether. Either way, the thing was holding me up so it could slam the blade right through my chest. And I couldn¡¯t focus enough to do any sort of paint in that moment, even as I saw the blade cut through the air toward my helplessly dangling form. They would kill me, and then they would kill Pack, Amber, Izzy--


    Izzy.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    At the last possible instant, still dangling from the ghost¡¯s grip as I was held by one arm, I shoved all the pain aside and managed to snap my leg up, kicking the incoming blade away from my chest just before it would have plunged into me. At the same time, I managed to give my arm enough pink paint to yank free of the ghost¡¯s grasp, allowing myself to fall to the floor. Landing hard, I rolled out of the way before the thing could retaliate.


    Well, this was going just wonderfully. I was bruised, possibly broken in a couple places, I was still struggling to breathe after the wind had been knocked out of me, and I hadn¡¯t really done anything of note to any of these guys. Just peachy-keen fighting on my end, really.


    Right, time to do something about that.


    Pushing past the pain, I covered my body in more paint, as much as I could. Every open spot, both on my clothes and under them, was colored. I cracked my knuckles and threw myself into a backwards roll away from the spot where that ghost was already driving its blade down. A new spot of blue on my shoes launched me off the floor as I rolled back to my feet, and I flipped over in the air in order to bounce off the wall the same way. That sent me toward the opposite wall, but I sent a shot of red through the mushroom dust as it was dissipating. Then I held my breath and yanked myself that way. The dust was still enough to make me choke and cough even when it was almost gone, so I couldn''t imagine how bad it would''ve been to take a full dose. Still, I canceled the red paint and inverted myself in the air just in time for my foot to collide with the bear man''s face. My momentum carried me right through him as the man was knocked to the floor with a grunt.


    Whamline was already reacting, sending two of his coils toward me. At the same time, two more of those ghosts appeared, and Box was flinging another orb my way. The previous two had been brown for ground, while this one was red. I had a bad feeling about what that meant.


    Sure enough, the orb exploded in mid-air into a ball of fire. A ball of fire that I was heading straight toward. At least, I was until I activated red paint on the tip of my shoes to yank myself up toward the ceiling, barely clearing the edge of the flames as they flickered against the top of my helmet when I was being yanked upward. Even then, I could feel the incredible heat, which was getting worse, because the ball of fire wasn¡¯t just staying the same size. The damn thing was expanding. In an instant, it was going to encompass the spot of the ceiling where I had flung myself. So, it was a good thing I wasn''t planning on staying there for any length of time. Instead, the second my feet touched the ceiling, the blue paint that was still on them rocketed me off of it and forward at that angle. I barely cleared the expanding flames while passing right between the two coils that Whamline had been trying to grab me with. As soon as he saw me pass through them, the traitor triggered the two energy constructs to explode. With me right in the middle of the long lines, being caught in a concussive explosion like that would have done a lot of damage. Fortunately, I was ready. Just as I saw the boy focus on me, I activated the image of an orange and blue man in a space suit that was across my back. The blue fed into the orange. I still felt the twin explosions like a couple of hard punches on either side of me. But Whamline felt it too. He was knocked backwards into the wall with a quite satisfying yelp.


    Box was already rearing back to send a pair of white balls my way. Those ones would produce wind, I was pretty sure. But I didn''t let him get that far. Instead, even as I was coming through the explosion, I sent a shot of red at each of his elbows and activated them. He was in mid-throw as his arms suddenly slammed into one another as though he was crossing them. The orbs flew into the walls on either side of the man and exploded into twin blasts of wind that knocked him stumbling with his arms still crossed.


    ¡°Hey, nice air balls!¡± I wheezed out despite myself. The ground was coming up fast, and I hit it in a roll, not staying still for an instant as far as I could help it. My name might''ve been Paintball, but I was doing my best to be a pinball right then instead. ¡°Get it, air balls?!¡±


    Unfortunately, I¡¯d barely come off the floor in an attempt to throw myself at Box before he could recover, when a ghost appeared and nailed me in the side with his hammer. It was a good thing I still had the orange and blue combined paint. It made the ghost shatter from the damage that was done to it, but I still took enough of a blow to send me sideways into the wall. I crashed into the bricks there and fell to the floor in time for the bear-mask man to come running forward, his foot lashing out toward my head. The kick almost knocked my helmet clean off, definitely cracking it along the side. But hey, bear-man didn¡¯t have time to be happy about that, since he took some of that damage himself, falling sideways with a confused cry.


    They were off balance, a couple still reacting to taking damage from their own attacks. This was my chance. Possibly my only chance.


    Rolling over on my back, I fought through the pain and dizziness to point with both hands while moving my arms around. In rapid succession, I hit all five of the Fell-Touched with a pair of mixed paints, as close to their faces as I could. They were all in the midst of reacting when I triggered those paints. White and green, in this case. Five separate bursts of blinding light filled the room, even as my eyes closed tightly just in case. As soon as I heard them react, I activated as much purple and green as I could, springing back to my feet.


    Regal girl with the ghosts was the furthest away, but she was still first. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion right then, with all the green paint I had. My hand sent a shot of red that way, making a crimson blotch appear on her chest before I yanked her toward me. In the same instant, as the woman was yanked off the floor and came my way, I pivoted to catch the bear-man. He was still stumbling from taking the damage from his own kick to the head, and from being blinded. My hands caught his extended arm, and I continued my pivot to fling him as hard as I could into Box. Both of them staggered over together even as the ghost lady reached me. I canceled the red paint while continuing to turn in that full circle so she would sail past me and crash right into those two while they were still stumbling. My motion carried me all the way around so I could raise my foot and slam it hard into her back, knocking all three of them flat to the floor in a tangled heap. Before they could recover, I sprayed them and the floor itself with red paint. They would be trapped in a ball like that for a few seconds. An eternity at a time like this.


    But I didn''t have any time to celebrate. There were still two guys left on their feet, Whamline and the guy in the raincoat whose power I hadn''t even seen yet. It was the latter I focused on, as he stumbled to one side, waving a hand in front of his face. Like the others, the guy was still blinded, so he had no idea what was happening to his companions. Not yet, anyway. Which I needed to take advantage of. To that end, I quickly flung myself that way, intending to tackle the guy to the ground before he could recover.


    And then I passed right through him like he wasn¡¯t even there. Only he was, because the second I stumbled through his smoke-like form, the man spun and kicked me hard in the back. He might not be able to see, but he¡¯d definitely felt me pass through him. And I felt that kick, enough to knock me to the floor.


    On the plus side, the orange-blue paint had stuck around long enough for green coat guy to feel his own kick slam into his back. But instead of falling, his form burst apart into lime-colored smoke. An instant later, he coalesced on the opposite side of me. And he wasn¡¯t blind anymore, apparently. Because his eyes found me just fine, before a green smoke tendril extended from his arm, caught my leg, and flung me up into the ceiling.


    Great, now I had two tentacle people to deal with. Didn¡¯t they know doubling up on powers like that was wrong?


    The thought flashed through my mind, just as I hit the ceiling and dropped right into a pair of energy coils from Whamline himself. They held my arms to either side, leaving me dangling in the air.


    Oh, and it got worse. Because I was out of paint. I¡¯d felt it coming, but now I really needed a few seconds to recharge. At possibly one of the worst times, of course.


    ¡°Okay, so,¡± I managed while panting heavily, ¡°you guys wanna surrender, or are you really so obsessed with licking Pencil¡¯s toes that you¡¯ll let him use you all as obvious sacrifices like this?¡±


    ¡°You really don¡¯t know when to shut up, do you?¡± That was Whamline. ¡°Not all of us give a shit about Pencil. You don''t know what you''re talking about. But I¡¯ll tell you one thing, I¡¯m glad you''re here. Cuz then, when I tell Way that I¡¯m the one who killed her dad, I can punctuate it by killing her little friend too.¡±


    A sound like a wounded animal and an enraged beast came from behind the boy, further down the hall. Amber, in full That-A-Way costume, stepped into view. There was a bruise along one of her cheeks, her nose had been bloodied at one point without being cleaned up, and she was breathing heavily. She looked beaten and battered. But she was out, she was free.


    And she had just heard what Whamline said.

 On The Clock 28-11

    There was no time to react, either on my part or Whamline¡¯s. Even as my brain was processing what Amber being there meant, she vanished. But she reappeared for just an instant, long enough for her fist to slam into the side of his ski mask-covered face. Which she apparently used as physical contact in order to transport him, because both of them disappeared again immediately. Which left me in that hallway with the other four Fell-Touched. But on the plus side, Whamline disappearing meant his energy coils weren''t holding me off the floor anymore. I dropped back down, stumbling to my feet just in time to see Box and the three Scions candidates all turn to face me once more. Great, Amber had taken away one of these assholes, but I couldn¡¯t chase after her to help with that traitorous murdering bastard, because I still had these guys in front of me. And I was still outnumbered.


    Or was I? Even as I had that thought, and started to renew the paint on myself to prepare for Round Two, several energy forms suddenly came flying in through the ceiling and quickly resolved into physical bodies. It was Carousel, Wobble, and those two kids, Yeet and Facs.


    More importantly, the nearby door was slammed inward so hard it came off its hinges, as Twinkletoes, in full gorilla mode, came bounding through, followed quickly by Holiday the panther-lizard, with Pack herself bringing up the rear.


    Yeah, suddenly these guys didn''t look as confident as they had a moment earlier. The three wannabes looked toward Box, who reached into his pocket while announcing, ¡°Yeah, good luck, you''re on your own!¡± Then he produced what had to be a teleportation device. Even as I saw that, my hand was rising to shoot red paint at it. Holiday and Twinkletoes bounded that way too, their snarls filling the hallway. And I saw both Wobble and Carousel reacting.  But we were all too late.


    On the other hand, so was he. Before he could push the button, and before any of us could reach him, someone plucked the remote right out of his hand. Someone who had been there the whole time (well, since the others had shown up anyway), but whose powers made us ignore her up until that point.


    ¡°That,¡± Grandstand snapped after taking his remote from him, ¡°is just about enough of that.¡± Only belatedly did I realize that she also had a pistol tucked up under his chin right against the man''s throat. ¡°Unless you want to see if a new orb manifests itself to give you the ability to grow your brains back in the next second or two, I''d surrender.¡±


    ¡°That goes for everyone here, I''d say.¡± That was Wobble, who seemed to be moving a bit stiffly and painfully, his armor dented a bit. It looked like he had been pretty roughed up, just like Amber. Carousel, beside him, wasn''t visibly injured, but that could''ve been because her costume and mask covered so much. She definitely wasn¡¯t moving fast, at least. All these guys looked like they were barely functional at this point. Which made me even more scared for Izzy and the others who weren¡¯t here.


    ¡°Yeah, dudes,¡± Yeet put in while holding one of her golden eggs threateningly. ¡°Because if any of you still wanna make any trouble, you can go for a really quick ride. And I promise you won''t like the landing.¡±


    Seeing Box under control and how surrounded they were, the three candidates reluctantly followed that advice, giving up without fighting back anymore. I was pretty sure Pack wasn''t happy about them surrendering so easily. It felt like she really wanted them to press the issue so she could let her lizards eat the fuckers. Instead, they sat down and allowed themselves to be secured with cuffs from my special bag, which I tossed to Yeet and Facs to use. I was too busy breathing hard and trying to recover from the past couple minutes of frantic fighting. But only one thing mattered right then. ¡°Raindrop, is she--and the rest of them, are they--¡± Giving away just how frantic I was about Raindrop probably wouldn¡¯t do my secret identity much favors. Not that I gave much of a shit in that moment, but still. I was trying not to assume the worst, just because Izzy and the others weren¡¯t down here with these guys.


    ¡°They¡¯re¡­ um¡­ okay,¡± Facs quickly assured me with a nod. ¡°They¡¯re upstairs still, they--it¡¯s alright, I think.¡±


    His hesitation through that made me want to press him. But we had to deal with this first. And apparently Box wasn¡¯t quite ready to give up entirely. Not even after the three candidates surrendered and with the pistol still pressed against him. Keeping his head very still and his hands visibly open so we would see that he wasn¡¯t forming any balls of energy, the man spoke carefully. ¡°Hey, hey, I know when I¡¯m completely beaten. Unfortunately for you, this isn¡¯t one of those times. But maybe it is time to negotiate.¡±


    Clearly breathing hard, Wobble gave me a brief look, nodding his thanks before speaking up. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re¡­ in the best position for that, buddy. Pretty sure the only reason those bullets are still in the gun and not lodged somewhere a couple ceilings above us along with your brain matter is because she thinks you might still be useful.¡± There was an edge to his tone that made me doubt that the words were entirely a bluff.


    ¡°Well that and executing a prisoner felt like a bad way to continue our temporary alliance,¡± Grandstand pointed out while pressing the pistol even tighter against the man¡¯s throat, basically choking him with it. ¡°But I really don¡¯t mind calling an end to that if he doesn¡¯t cooperate.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe we can just let Holiday eat one of his legs,¡± Pack put in. She was clearly favoring one of her own legs, using a hand against the wall to keep herself upright. ¡°She¡¯s pretty hungry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m basically on board for either of those options at this point,¡± Wobble muttered before seeming to realize that he needed to set a better example as part of the Minority. He and Carousel exchanged a brief glance. ¡°But we need him alive. He¡¯s the best chance we¡¯ve got at finding a way through the shield the rest of the Scions are using over at the apartment.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Box agreed, ¡°I am. But you won¡¯t get any information from me. In fact, your best bet right now is to let me go, along with my friends there. Do that and we can all walk away without further problems.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotta be kidding me,¡± Pack snapped. ¡°Maybe you should just shoot him. He¡¯s clearly completely brain-dead anyway, if he thinks he¡¯s got any chance of getting out of this.¡±


    Shaking his head in faux disappointment, Box slyly replied, ¡°Well, you can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t try. Show them what they¡¯re in for!¡±


    His words made all of us tense up. But nothing happened. There was a long pause during which the short, thin man with the black cloth mask over the bottom half of his face and sunglasses over the top seemed completely confident. At least at first. Then the confidence waned as he tersely repeated, ¡°I said, show them what they¡¯re in for.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry.¡± That was a new voice. Only it wasn¡¯t new, it was very familiar, at least for me. It was the voice Paige used as Poise. She was right there in the doorway that Twinkletoes had burst through. ¡°I assume that was some sort of signal to the gang of heavily armed thugs you had arranged around this place as backup? Yeah they¡¯re not gonna be any help to you. We sort of ahh, stopped them. I mean, not just us. A bunch of Ten Towers and La Casa people showed up to help too. They work pretty well together with proper motivation considering we¡¯re all supposed to be on opposite sides. You okay, Paintball?¡±


    ¡°Peachy,¡± I managed before pivoting toward Carousel and Wobble. ¡°But the others, you said they¡¯re okay? All of them? And where the fuck is Jennica? Tell me she¡¯s not about to jump out at us.¡± My brain was still reeling from all this. Not to mention my body. The whole frantic rush to get here, followed by the absolutely insane fight just to survive those few minutes alone, had done a number on me. But I still had to know Izzy and Eits weren¡¯t¡­ weren¡¯t too hurt. I had to know they were safe, and it was all I could do in that moment not to abandon everyone in this hall to rush up there.


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    ¡°Jennica¡¯s not here,¡± Wobble noted in a suspicious grunt as he looked around. ¡°She was. She had some of those control and pain stones on us. They were obviously going to use them. But she left to do something and then the stones just¡­ fell off. She¡¯s not here anymore. Maybe she saw everything going down and flew the coop. As for the others--¡±


    ¡°Unconscious upstairs, in the cell of theirs,¡± Carousel put in. ¡°All drugged in a heap. But why did Way take a leap?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± That made Pack give a double-take, apparently just realizing that the Minority girl wasn¡¯t here. ¡°Where the hell did she go?! And where the fuck is that prick that--oh damn it.¡±


    Grimacing, I hesitated. No way did I want to expose too much about Amber¡¯s identity in front of everyone, or the fact that I knew it. Instead, I carefully replied, ¡°It was Whamline. He said something about killing her dad, and she--¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± That was Wobble, who suddenly seemed to dismiss his own injuries and pain. The tall boy had been leaning against the wall, barely keeping himself somewhat upright. But when I said that, he abruptly pivoted and sprinted out of the building, passing everyone else as his shout echoed back toward us. ¡°Way! Way where are you?!¡± Belatedly I realized he was using some sort of short range communicator. I knew Raindrop had one too. Carousel, repeating the boy¡¯s demand in her own rhyme (give us your location, we¡¯ll help with the castration), was right behind him. And Pack wasn¡¯t far behind. All three of them vanished out the door.


    Part of me wanted to go right behind them to help Way deal with¡­ all that. But I had to make sure Izzy was okay first. To that end, I snapped toward Poise. ¡°Help them, send Alloy! We¡¯ve got this!¡± Then I used a bit of red paint to throw myself up through the hole that I had made in the floor above with my pink paint to get down here in the first place. I didn''t care how it looked for me to be visibly worried. It couldn''t give away my connection to Raindrop just like that. After all, she wasn''t the only one in there. And yet, even if it had exposed me, I didn''t think I would have cared. Not enough to stop me, anyway.


    Something else did stop me once I got there, however. A figure stood where the shield generator had been before I knocked it over. The generator was gone entirely now, and the figure was standing in the open doorway into the storage room where the Scions had been keeping their prisoners.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I blurted, only to belatedly realize who I was looking at. It wasn¡¯t one of the Scions. It was my brother. Around him were several unconscious (or possibly dead) Prevs who had apparently intended to grab the prisoners and take them.


    Simon was dressed the same way he had been when he¡¯d intervened with Murphy and me while we were trying to catch Luciano. He had the same designer jeans, gleaming silver shirt, red leather jacket, and gloves. Unlike that time, however, he wore a mask over his face. Which confused me a little bit. Why wasn¡¯t he using one of the illusion devices like every other time? Why would he be using a physical mask right now instead? Something tickled at the back of my brain when it came to that, but I didn''t have time to focus on it. Instead, I stopped short, taking in his presence. Izzy. He was there to save Izzy, just like me. He had obviously been worried about her. Worried enough to actually show up here now, exposing himself to¡­ well, all this. That prompted a whole bunch of thoughts that I couldn''t exactly speak right then. Not without giving too much away.


    Head tilting behind that mask as he looked over his shoulder at me, Simon paused. I could almost see him calculating the best way to proceed. In the end, he straightened up and gestured into the storage room. ¡°The Ministry thanks you for your assistance. Sincerely. This situation would have been a hell of a lot worse without you. And without your trust. It looks like the ones in there were drugged by something intended to mimic some of the effects of that bio-attack. But it¡¯s not the same thing. When the medics show up, give them this.¡± His closed hand extended toward me with a piece of paper in it. ¡°There¡¯s a formula on there for a cure to help them. Get them that, and they¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    I hesitated slightly, before accepting the folded paper from him. If nothing else, I trusted that Simon cared about Izzy enough to not be screwing around with this. ¡°You know if I let them take Eits and Broadway, the authorities will want to charge them, even with this going on.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why we won¡¯t let that happen.¡± The response didn''t come from Simon. Instead, it came from behind me. I pivoted to see Blackjack standing there in his normal costume of black slacks, polished leather shoes, a black shirt with a matching bolo tie that had a red gem at the collar, and a white duster coat that reached his ankles. His face, as always, was covered by a golden mask shaped like a face that undoubtedly didn¡¯t match his own at all. He was accompanied by two of his subordinates. The first was Cardsharp in her white pants, black turtleneck, purple leather jacket, and white mask with purple lenses. And the other was Spades, who wore a dark chauffeur¡¯s uniform with a simple white facemask.


    Once he had given me a second to register them, Blackjack spoke again. ¡±Before the authorities get here, we¡¯ll be taking our people and leaving. But thank you for the help.¡±


    I started to say something about Simon being there, only to glance over my shoulder and see that he wasn''t. He had vanished in that time, and it didn''t look like the La Casa people were going to acknowledge his previous presence at all. If they¡¯d even seen him. After all, he had been partially inside the doorway to the storage room, and at the angle Blackjack and the others were in¡­ maybe they had seen him and maybe they hadn¡¯t.


    So, I simply opened the paper and held it up. ¡°You''ll need this if you want to wake them up, apparently.¡± Glancing at the contents, I saw a bunch of equations and utterly indecipherable medical jargon that had been scrawled on it.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± I made a twirling motion with my finger at Spades. ¡°Would you mind?¡±


    The man looked uncertain, but a nod from Blackjack made him turn around. I touched my hand against his back, and immediately copied everything from the paper onto his chauffeur''s jacket in white paint so they could read it. Then I gestured toward the storage room. ¡°You better hurry. I don''t think you''ll be alone for much longer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we wouldn¡¯t want to push our own alliance with Caishen further than absolutely necessary,¡± Blackjack agreed. He sent Cardsharp and Spades in to grab Eits and Broadway, before focusing on me. ¡°My thanks a moment ago was not meant to be flippant. You truly have my gratitude, boy. Without your aid here¡­¡±


    ¡°I just did what needed to be done,¡± I insisted while shaking my head. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. Just--just make sure they¡¯re okay.¡±


    He nodded, and the La Casa people vanished back through the doorway with their unconscious companions. Seeing Eits completely limp like that, held loosely in Cardsharp¡¯s arms, made me want to chase after them to check on him. But no, I had to trust that they could handle it and wake him and Broadway up, with the¡­ whatever this information Simon had provided was.


    Yeah, I still wanted to know why only these guys had been drugged with whatever it was. Maybe they were testing it and hadn¡¯t gotten as far as the others? Or maybe they only had so much of it. Whatever the answer, with those guys gone, I was left to check on the others by myself.


    So, I immediately dashed into the storage room, my eyes snapping around until I spotted several figures lying near a corner. Three of them weren¡¯t entirely physical. Syndicate. All four of his bodies were here, only one of which could be totally solid at a time. But they were all unconscious. That¡­ that seemed odd, and hard to pull off.


    And yet, Izzy was the one I focused on. Seeing her lying there, I dropped to my knees and touched the side of her face through the mirrored mask. I could see my own damaged helmet in the reflection there, which was broken enough to reveal some of the mask underneath. Yeah, I had definitely been through the ringer. But I didn''t care. I just had to make sure she was okay. Her breathing seemed even, to my relief. She was just¡­ asleep. We had to get her to the hospital and let the doctors see this paper, though I wasn¡¯t sure where I was supposed to say I¡¯d gotten it. Hell, for that matter, I wasn¡¯t sure why Simon had it in the first place.


    Just as I went to pick her up, the sound of footsteps made me turn around. It was Paige, together with Linesight and several uniformed security troops from Ten Towers. Those guys immediately took over, lifting up Raindrop and the physical Syndicate before carrying them out. Now this whole building was full of Ten Towers people. Hell, from the sound of things, the entire neighborhood was swarming with authorities, while Grandstand had understandably vanished.


    ¡°The others?¡± I asked Paige.


    ¡°Waiting outside, trying not to get in the way,¡± she replied, her gaze laser-focused on me. ¡°Are you¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I insisted, ignoring the pain and exhaustion throughout my body. ¡°What about Alloy? Did she go after Wobble and Carousel? Did they find Way and¡­ and that fucker?¡±


    Her head shook. ¡°Not yet. They¡¯re all still looking. You said¡­ you said he killed her dad?¡±


    Swallowing, I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what he said. And now we have no idea where she took him or what they¡¯re doing.


    ¡°Whatever she does with Whamline is up to her now.¡±

 Interlude 28A - That-A-Way And Whamline

    Amber was an idiot. She was a completely gullible, naive, ignorant moron. Or at least she felt like one. How could she not have realized that Whamli--Jerry was a bad guy? How could she have spent so long around him, done so many things right alongside that unbelievable bastard, and never even had the slightest inkling that he was a psychopath? She should have known. She should have noticed something at some point. A better person would have. A smarter person would have seen an inconsistency, noticed something in one of his reactions, done something to catch the bastard instead of just ignorantly stumbling right into his fucking trap!


    And what a trap it was. First, the Minority (aside from Fragile, who was unavailable) had been dealing with what they thought was a simple fight between some Prev members of a couple gangs. That had been easy enough to break up, all things considered. And from there, it was simply a matter waiting for the authorities to come pick them up. That was supposed to be the easy, boring part, simply making sure the already-cuffed criminals were safely loaded into the vans to be taken to the jail and sorted out by the people who were paid for that.


    Which was precisely what Jerry had been counting on. That much was obvious in hindsight. He had taken advantage of everyone else letting their guards down while going through such a routine motion. Hell, it was a routine motion following a fight, albeit one that they made it through fairly easily. Too easily, in hindsight. They¡¯d had their action and were waiting for their prisoners to be picked up. As far as they knew, as far as their adrenaline knew, the exciting part was over and they could relax.


    Thus, when the supposed authority showed up with the vans, Amber didn''t think anything of it. She was just stepping over to say something to the driver when she noticed something about his uniform. Before she could react, he hit her in the face with a cloud of noxious gas from a small gizmo that she had only belatedly noticed in his hand. And just like that, her consciousness had fled as she felt herself hit the ground. Behind her, she had heard the others being ambushed as well.


    Then she woke up in this shielded place, a room who knew where. It looked like the inside of some empty storage space. Empty, that was, aside from her, Wobble, Raindrop, all four of the Syndicates, and Carousel. The Syndicates and Raindrop were all asleep and couldn¡¯t be roused no matter what Amber, Jae, and Laki (Wobble) did. Which, the fact that even the intangible versions of Syndicate had somehow been drugged or¡­ or whatever, had driven the seriousness of the situation home even more.


    Jae knew about Jerry. Amber had been able to tell that much from the way the other girl started to say there was something she had to tell them about him after Amber and Laki questioned where he was. But before she¡¯d been able to continue with that, the door had opened and Jerry himself had come in, using several of his coils to carry a few figures with him. One had been Pack, a sight that instantly got Amber on her feet, while the others were Eits and Broadway. All three were unconscious and looked as though they had been put through the wringer.


    Seeing the boy so casually and cruelly throw the unconscious forms against the far wall, Amber, Jae, and Laki had tried to use their powers to attack him. But the moment they did, agony filled all three of the Star-Touched, driving them to their knees. Only then did they find the yellow stones that had been placed against the back of one another¡¯s necks. Which was when Jennica, that girl who had been responsible for the zombies (or at least responsible for controlling the guy who was responsible for them), showed herself and made it clear what was going on. They were prisoners of these wannabe Scions, who were going to sacrifice them to buy their way in. And they couldn''t even fight back with their powers or Jennica¡¯s stones would send crippling pain through them.


    Not that that stopped them from trying to fight back without their powers, of course. They¡¯d taken months-worth of combat training, and had been made to learn how to take care of themselves without their Touched gifts in an emergency (not too unlike this). But with the same training and his own powers intact, Whamline was too much. Especially in that small space. He seemed to revel in being able to throw them around with his energy coils. Amber¡¯s arm had almost been torn out of its socket as he yanked her off the ground before sending her flying into the wall, then yanked her back to him to kick her in the face. To say nothing of the others. Jennica and several other Scion wannabes helped make it even more of a very unfair fight, as if it wasn¡¯t enough of one already. Amber, Jae, and Laki were completely outmatched. Even when Pack woke up and tried to help, it only ended in her leg getting ripped out from under her by another coil before she was sent hurling into the wall. That by itself would have been enough to make Amber want to claw that suddenly-smug asshole''s eyes out, especially when he shook the other girl¡¯s backpack out while ranting about how he was going to make her watch as he stepped on her lizard¡¯s necks until they broke.


    Fortunately, that didn¡¯t end up being possible. The backpack was set up so that no one who wasn''t Pack herself could actually access the lizard cage it was linked to. For Whamline, and anyone else who tried, the bag was empty. The lizards were safe. Obviously, the piece of shit wasn¡¯t happy about that, and proceeded to kick Pack repeatedly while trying to demand she bring her lizards over. She, of course, refused. Amber had been afraid he would go even further, but then Jennica had interrupted to say she had to go do something and couldn''t stand around watching him pull the wings off butterflies anymore. Whamline made it clear he would be back to finish the job, and then they were left alone. Jae and Pack both spent the next few minutes telling Amber and Laki what they had been up to and how they had ended up working together to find out that Whamline was one of the Scions candidates. Obviously, Amber and Laki were both a bit upset about not being told what was going on, especially given the situation they¡¯d ended up in. But Jae said she¡¯d wanted to be certain and get actual proof before accusing one of their own teammates of something that could never be walked back if it turned out she was wrong or he was being set up somehow. And, to be frank, Amber couldn¡¯t really hold the other girl keeping secrets against her, given¡­ well, everything with the Ministry and all that.


    Laki had his own issues with finding out that Jae had teamed up with a few villains through the course of the whole thing, of course. But even he knew there was a difference in what sort of villain someone was, and that there were times when it made sense to put aside their differences. Amber was pretty sure he was more upset about not being told what was going on, and only finding out now when it was too late. But he put it aside for the moment.


    Besides, they obviously had more important things to worry about right then. Like getting out of there. Unfortunately, they couldn''t use their powers with Jennica¡¯s stones on them, which made that difficult. And nothing they did could wake up Raindrop, Broadway, the Syndicates, or Eits. Not that it was likely that any of them could get out either, but still.


    They¡¯d been visited one more time, by a couple of the other Scions candidates, a guy with a bear mask and a woman wearing regal clothes complete with tiara and cloak. The two of them were dragging another figure with them. Grandstand, another person Jae¡¯s group had been working with. It turned out that Pack, Broadway, Eits, Grandstand, and possibly a couple others had been nearby, planning to act as backup if Whamline tried anything. Which he had, but before that group could jump in to help, they were ambushed as well, by the rest of the Scions candidates. Apparently they¡¯d been spotted somehow, or maybe everything they¡¯d found out was an intentional trap. Whatever it was, they were taken by surprise before they could actually help Jae and the rest of the Minority people. And now they were all captured.


    Or were they? Jae and Pack both made it clear they didn¡¯t want to say anything out loud and risk being overheard, but from the way they were acting, Amber thought there was more to the whole thing.


    Whatever the truth about that, the fact remained that they were all in danger. Amber was terrified about the fact that she couldn''t get Izzy and Damarko to wake up. The stuff they had been drugged with was clearly strong enough to keep them out no matter how much they were shaken and shouted at. But they were breathing, for now at least. So Amber, Pack (she had to think of the girl that way so she wouldn¡¯t accidentally say Dani out loud) and the others had to focus on getting out of this fucking trap. There had to be a way. Whamline wasn''t a genius, and nobody who actually wanted to join up with the Scions to be Pencil¡¯s lackeys could be that smart either. There had to be a way to break the forcefield and get out of there. Which seemed especially possible a couple minutes later when those yellow (she refused to think of them as amber) stones from Jennica had turned dark and fallen off them. She didn''t know if the psychopaths out there had any idea that had happened, but either way, they had to take advantage of it. Unfortunately, even with their powers, they still couldn¡¯t get out of that room. Oh, Amber could teleport again, but there was some sort of forcefield around the entire space. It was a lot like the one around the apartment building the rest of the actual Scions had been holing up in. They couldn¡¯t break through it.


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    Still, with their powers, maybe the next time that door was opened Jerry might poke his head in without realizing Amber wasn¡¯t shackled by the stones anymore, so she could take him by surprise. Oh, how she hoped she¡¯d get that chance. He was a traitor, a monster who had murdered a reporter just to impress the Scions so he could join them?!


    She was still reeling from that revelation. It wasn¡¯t hard to understand why Jae had kept it to herself, to say nothing of Dani. For the former, accusing a teammate of being that sort of monster had to be hard without firm proof. And for Dani¡­ well, their relationship was still really new and confusing. Amber thought about how she would feel if she had to tell the girl that one of her own teammates and close friends was actually working for the Scions. It made her cringe, and they were actual villains.


    That¡­ probably wasn¡¯t the best way to bring it up. But the point was, despite the initial anger that rushed over her, exacerbated by the situation they were in, Amber had to admit that she knew why they had waited. They were looking for proof. Hell, Dani had even told her that she had something serious about ¡®the people you work with¡¯ to talk about, but that she¡¯d had to double-check some things. Amber had thought she was talking about some of the cops they worked alongside, or a judge or¡­ or something to do with the Ministry! She didn¡¯t know it was anything like this.


    Suffice to say, mistakes had been made. But they still had to get out of this. Then they could talk about¡­ everything they needed to talk about. And she had some of her own confessions to make, especially to Jae.


    They tried to wake up the others, tried to get out of that room, tried a number of things. In the end, they only managed to get Grandstand up, and her power wouldn¡¯t help them escape. It might help her get out if someone opened the door and lowered the forcefield as they wouldn''t notice her, but they had to get that far first. And there was no guarantee they wouldn''t just leave the forcefield up until she showed herself.


    In the end, it was sound coming from outside the room that drew their attention. It sounded like some sort of fight going on, which made Amber''s heart leap. Someone had shown up after all. Someone came to help. But was it enough? Were they, whoever they were, enough? God, this was so frustrating! Raindrop, the Syndicates, Eits, and Broadway remained completely impossible to wake up, they couldn¡¯t get out of this room, couldn¡¯t talk about anything for fear of being overheard, and now someone else was out there fighting these pricks and there was nothing Amber and the others could do about it!


    The fighting carried on for a bit while the group inside exchanged helpless looks, before seeming to move away from the door. A few long, torturous moments passed, before another sound came: that of the door unlocking. It was heaved open, and Amber found herself staring right at two small, teen figures wearing ski masks. As soon as she took a step that way, their hands went up. ¡°Your side, your side, we¡¯re on your side!¡± the girl blurted.


    ¡°Facs and Yeet,¡± Grandstand put in. ¡°What happened? What¡¯s going on?¡± She still seemed a little groggy, and had to put a hand out to steady herself.


    ¡°We brought Paintball!¡± the boy, Facs, blurted. ¡°He tried to bring his team but they¡¯re not here yet, so he came in to fight those guys because they were gonna kill you, and now he¡¯s downstairs and he needs help!¡±


    Without wasting another second and without even thinking about the others, Amber spun herself to the north and teleported herself downward. If Cassie was here, going up against Whamline and all the others--no, no!


    She arrived down there, coming into view just in time to see Whamline holding Paintball in the air with a couple of his coils, while several of the other Scions candidates picked themselves up. Jennica wasn¡¯t there, but Amber didn¡¯t have time to worry about that. All she could worry about, the only thing that existed right then, were the words that came out of Whamline¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°Not all of us give a shit about Pencil. You don''t know what you''re talking about. But I¡¯ll tell you one thing, I¡¯m glad you''re here. Cuz then, when I tell Way that I¡¯m the one who killed her dad, I can punctuate it by killing her little friend too.¡±


    The one who killed her dad.


    The one who killed her dad.


    The one who killed my dad!


    Before she even realized it, Amber was making a noise. It didn¡¯t sound human. It didn¡¯t sound coherent. It was the sound of a girl whose father had been killed, and who had then unknowingly spent over a year working, talking, and playing right alongside his killer. A killer who was utterly unremorseful, wanted to brag about it, and was planning to cap it off by killing her friend as well.


    It was a sound not unlike the screeching of a car as it slammed through the body of a man who had been minding his own business, driven by a joyrider who had never, ever faced justice.


    Amber had been angry before. Now? Now she was beyond that. She was beyond rational thought, beyond any thought. The sound she made was of a wild animal, and her mind was no clearer. Before any of the people there could react, Amber launched herself that way, teleporting once more. That carried her directly in front of the piece of shit himself, just as she lashed out with one fist. That time, that fucking time he couldn¡¯t throw her against the wall, couldn¡¯t mock her helplessness, couldn¡¯t threaten to kill her girlfriend¡¯s lizards, couldn¡¯t gloat about killing her father, or anything else.


    All he could do was take that punch. And the second he did, the very instant her fist collided with his face, Amber used that physical connection and teleported yet again. That time, she took the two of them as far north as she could, emerging on the roof of a building almost a full mile from where they had started.


    She didn¡¯t let up either. Even as they came down from that teleport, her opposite fist lashed out to punch the other side of the boy¡¯s face, and she used that to teleport as far as she could again.


    Now, as they came down on another roof, Amber didn''t even know exactly where they were anymore. She¡¯d lost track. The building was some sort of office structure, only a few stories high. There were a few small electrical structures and such scattered across the roof, along with a small garden in one corner someone was maintaining. Other than that, the space was wide open. And they were alone.


    Whamline wheeled backward from the two quick punches before hitting the roof with his coils to propel himself backwards in order to gain some distance. He came down on his feet and shook his head to clear it. With a grunt, he put a hand against his mask before yanking it off to reveal his face. He had blood splattered across it from his nose, just like Amber did from when he had struck her. ¡°Huh, guess we''re even then.¡±


    ¡°You¡­¡± Even saying that one word made Amber''s voice crack to the point of almost being indecipherable. ¡°It''s true.¡± She had no doubt in her mind, not anymore. ¡°You¡¯re the one.¡±


    Jerry raised his hands. ¡°Hey, you''ve gotta understand, at the time, it was an accident. I was just trying to have some fun. It''s not like I even knew you or your dad. I definitely didn''t have anything against him. So, I hit you, you hit me, let''s talk about what comes next.¡±


    Amber shook her head, reaching up to take her own face mask off so that her features shifted back to her own and her hair returned to its normal black state. She wouldn¡¯t do this as That-A-Way. This wasn¡¯t for That-A-Way.


    It was for Amber. And as Amber, her face set itself into an expression of rage beyond all comprehension as the girl flung herself that way.

 Interlude 28B - Amber And Jerry

    One of Jerry¡¯s coils immediately lashed out toward Amber in an attempt to catch her as she leapt that way, only to pass harmlessly through open air as she teleported herself forward to a spot behind him. He had been anticipating that, and had two coils there ready to grab her. But just as moving north allowed her to teleport, pivoting around to face south once she arrived gave the girl access to her intangibility power. Once again, the coils passed right through her without any effect, while she swung her left fist out toward the side of his head. That, of course, would have done nothing if she stayed intangible. But she didn¡¯t. Instead, the girl not only disabled her power in the middle of that swing, but pivoted on one foot to face east right before impact. That allowed her to become invulnerable so she could slam her fist into the side of his head as hard as possible without injuring herself, or even feeling anything from it.


    Nor did she feel anything as one of his coils snatched hold of her extended arm while he was reeling. Amber was yanked off her feet and slammed down hard into the roof, then flung forward past the boy and straight into one of the nearby air conditioning units. She slammed into the thing hard enough to dent the metal box, but felt nothing given Jerry had kept her moving east that whole time. Probably because he was still stumbling back from that punch and wasn¡¯t thinking about her power. Or maybe he just knew that two of her other three powers would¡¯ve allowed her to escape more easily. And unlike Amber, he didn¡¯t have a built-in compass constantly telling him which direction he was facing. That was one of her biggest advantages in any fight. Well, besides the actual powers themselves. Sure, the people she went up against might have known that she had four different abilities based on which direction she was moving, but actually keeping track of which was which, and how they should position her to benefit the most from it wasn¡¯t easy. Especially not when you had just been clocked in the side of the head by an invulnerable (and incredibly angry) fist. All Jerry was trying to do in that moment was get her away from himself long enough to recover.


    Well, he was going to be disappointed on that front too. After being flung to the east and bouncing off the partially-collapsed metal box (which was now making very high-pitched protesting sounds as the fan within grinded up against the sides), Amber had to move west to get back to where Jerry was. Which meant her superspeed was in play. At top speed, her body was a barely-noticeable blur. He tried to compensate by sending four different coils her way, blocking as many angles as he could. And at the very instant that he thought they were near the space she was about to run through, he detonated all of them, filling the air with a massive blast of concussive energy that blew away some of the nearby bricks lining the edge of the roof, sending dust out over the what turned out to be the edge of a construction site below.


    What the explosions did not do, however, was harm Amber. Having superspeed meant she could see and react to things faster than almost anyone. She saw the coils coming toward her, and even noticed them start to expand as the energy contained within was transformed into concussive force. At the very last instant, the girl pivoted back the opposite way (east), once more shifting her power from super speed to invulnerability. The explosion filled the air all around her, but she was completely unharmed.


    Jerry was already trying to follow up that opening by grabbing her around the waist with another coil, but Amber had been pivoting all the way through the explosion. Even as it was fading and the new coil attempted to wrap around her, she went from facing east to south. That shifted her power from invulnerability to intangibility, making the coil pass right through her like she wasn¡¯t even there.


    And still, she continued pivoting, going from originally facing east, to south, then west once more as soon as the coil was past. Which brought her super speed back into play. She used that immediately, sprinting off straight toward Jerry while he was still reacting to the one coil passing through her and the others completely missing with their explosions. Before he could recover, Amber sent herself just barely past the boy before spinning back that way. Midway through the turn, her power changed first to teleportation (which she didn¡¯t use) then to invulnerability as she finished her one hundred and eighty degree turn. But she still had her momentum, so when her fist collided with his shoulder, it did so with much more force than she normally would have been capable of. She was fine, thanks to her power. But she felt the bone in his arm break under the blow, and heard him scream a loud curse as he was knocked down. ¡°Gaaaaaah you fucking cunt!¡±


    Amber didn''t let up for a second, however. Even as the boy landed on his back, cradling his arm, she landed on top of him. One of his coils reflexively lashed out to slam into her from the side, but she was still invulnerable. Her left fist slammed into his face, then her right. ¡°You son of a bitch!¡±  Her scream filled the air while she punched his face for a third time in rapid succession. ¡°You motherfucker!¡± She reared back before slamming down to drive her elbow into his face that time, knocking his head back against the roof. ¡°He was my dad! You fucking killed my dad, you bastard!¡±


    Finally, the boy managed to wrap a coil around her raised arm and yank her off him, sending her off to the north. Just before it could explode, she teleported away from the thing, landing right on the edge of the roof as she barely caught herself from falling.


    Jerry was back on his feet, though staggering a bit with his arm hanging uselessly while he spat blood and sent four more coils at her back with his own inarticulate scream of rage. Amber, however, threw herself backwards. She was still facing north, but moving south so her intangibility kicked in, allowing the coils to pass through her, along with the boy himself as she kept going to plant herself directly behind him.


    Even as a couple more coils appeared, Amber grabbed him by the shoulders, taking particular satisfaction in gripping his injured arm. An instant later, she teleported them forward until they were past the roof. They appeared in midair above the construction site as she shoved him down and drove her feet into his back to kick off the boy. He went falling toward the dirt below while she teleported forward and down once more. Her own teleportation took her straight to ground instantly, allowing her to appear just inside the construction site, near a table full of power tools and a port-a-potty.


    As she¡¯d expected, Jerry managed to catch himself on extended coils rather than hitting the ground directly. He towered several feet over her that way. His expression was partially obscured by the blood, but she could see the rage there, and knew it was reflected right back at him on her face. He spat once more before screaming, ¡°Yeah, I fucking killed your dad! It was a fucking accident, you psycho cunt! I didn''t mean to hit him, it just happened!¡± As he bellowed those words, the boy kept his body upright on two coils while sending three more lashing out toward her. ¡°You really think that should ruin my life?!¡±


    Amber, in turn, was already pivoting toward the west where the table was. Her super speed kicked in as she raced that way, allowing the coils to repeatedly slam into the ground behind her. She managed to jump over the table, grab a power sander on her way past, and twisted in the air to fling it toward his face. She missed that specific target in her hurry, but the thing still rebounded off his chest and made him fall against the partially-constructed building behind him. His coils faltered as he crashed down onto what would be the second story of the building once it was complete. Right now, it was still mostly open air, with a half-finished floor that still had a lot of work ahead of it.


    After flinging herself over the table and twisting to throw that sander, Amber would have hit the ground. But her midair pivot had left her facing north, and she used that to teleport up to the same partially-completed second floor of the office structure.


    ¡°It ruined my life!¡± She finally screamed her answer back at Jerry, while grabbing a nearby two-by-four to hurl at him in the process. ¡°My dad is dead, you evil fuck!¡±


    One of Jerry''s coils knocked the piece of wood aside and he snapped back at her while scrambling back to his feet, ¡°Oh yeah, your life is so fucking ruined! You have super powers you stupid privileged cunt! You¡¯re a fancy fucking superhero now! Your life is set! You¡¯ll never have to worry about a job, or what to do with your life! Good, bad, whatever you wanna be, you can do it! You wouldn¡¯t have any of that without me! You wouldn¡¯t be anything without me! Do you have any idea how many people would push both parents off a bridge if they could get the powers you have, you ungrateful bitch?!¡±


    Amber''s response was a completely undecipherable scream as she launched herself that way. One of his coils appeared in front of her, already exploding. But Amber was already intangible, and she passed through it without issue before turning herself solid once more so she could grab his arms and yank them up. That made the boy¡¯s scream of pain match her own more emotion-driven one as his broken limb was so roughly jostled, but Amber was already driving her knee into his stomach. As he doubled over, she pivoted around him and used her grip on his injured arm to fling him onto his back.


    At least, that was the goal. But Jerry managed to get a coil back that way to catch himself while another grabbed her arm and sent the girl flying sideways into one of the support beams. She couldn''t react quickly enough in that moment, and hit the metal beam hard enough to be briefly stunned while a shock of pain went through her side. Not that it was anything compared to the pain she had been feeling every time she thought about her father over all this time. And now his murderer was right there. Worse, she had been working alongside him, she had laughed with him, played games with him, ate with him! She went to the movies with the piece of fucking filth who killed her dad!


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    That anger, that rage, drove the girl to push herself up without paying any attention to the pain in her side. Even as Jerry used the coil he had caught himself on to straighten up, Amber was already leaping that way. She slammed into his back and took the boy down face-first against the floor. She felt his coil try to grab her, but twisted so she could be intangible, making the coil smack against his own back instead. Before he recovered from that, Amber¡¯s motion carried her off his back and she returned to her solid form in time to bring her foot slamming into the side of his face. She paid for that, however, the coil that she had avoided by turning intangible exploded just then. The concussive force slammed into her, knocking the girl¡¯s head back and sending her skidding over the floor. She went right off the edge and nearly fell to the hard ground below before managing to catch hold of a piece of metal attached to the nearby support pillar. It cut into her hand, but halted her momentum. It also twisted her around so she was hanging there, legs dangling while her upper half stayed partially on the open floor there. Not only was the ground itself twenty feet down, but in that particular spot a deep trench had been dug for various utilities and pipes to be put into the building, doubling the length of the drop. Her ears were ringing from the explosion. It seemed like Jerry could pack a bit more of a punch into his coils than he¡¯d revealed to any of them until now.


    Hanging like that, facing the same floor she had gone sliding off of, positioned Amber toward the south. So, as two more coils came straight for her, she turned intangible and dropped. Through the fall, she managed to swing herself forward a bit to land on the cement of the unfinished first floor rather than continuing on into the pit. Turning herself solid at the end of the drop, Amber had just enough time to look up before two coils slammed through the floor above. Jerry, making his entrance. Debris and dust went flying everywhere, while the boy flung one of his glowing energy coils that way.


    Amber was already twisting herself to the left, activating her invulnerability as the coil exploded around her. In the next instant, she lunged to grab two flying bits of broken floor as they went flying past. Grabbing one in each hand, she pivoted the opposite direction to face west. That put her super speed into play, which she instantly used to go from one side of the lower floor to the opposite too quickly for Jerry to track. Reaching that corner, she hurled one of the bits of debris at the side of his head while simultaneously throwing herself up and backwards. That meant she was moving north, allowing her teleportation to kick in. Which she used to send herself toward the ceiling and as far back to the east as she could manage. There was a half-finished wall in that spot, which she planted her feet against to run sideways along, toward the west once more for her superspeed. There was only a short length of wall there for her to use, but it was enough. She brought herself up to speed before hurling the other piece of flooring she had been holding.


    At that very moment, Jerry had just used a coil to smack the first incoming bit of debris away from his face. But he didn''t see the second one coming from above. That one slammed into the side of his head and knocked him staggering sideways. Blood gushed from the wound and he bellowed in pain. Before he could recover, Amber launched herself backwards off the wall she had been running along. She had been moving west, so moving the opposite way as she flung herself off of it sent her toward the east. That turned her invulnerable, just as she sent herself flying straight at the boy. So he would feel the full impact, but she wouldn¡¯t.


    Or rather, he would''ve felt the impact, if he hadn''t managed to catch her with a coil at the last possible second, flinging the girl past himself with a scream of frustration. She went flying hard into the nearest support pillar. The whole partially-finished building seemed to shake from the force of her impact, which would have killed her instantly if she hadn¡¯t been invulnerable in that moment.


    Jerry yanked her backwards, then slammed her into the support pillar again, and again, and yet another time. She was invulnerable moving in that direction, but the pillar wasn''t. It began to break under the repeated impacts, while bits of metal and concrete flew off. At the same time, the boy was slamming his coils into other support pillars that were keeping the floor above in place, almost like he was having a temper tantrum. Before they snapped completely and brought the ceiling down on them, he used those same coils to keep the supports upright. Then he spun Amber around to face him, to face west so she had superspeed. But that didn''t matter as several more coils caught hold of every limb as well as her head. She was held spreadeagle like that in midair, forced to look straight at the filth who had run over her father and hid it for so long.


    Jerry was panting, and snarling from the effort of holding so many coils at once. ¡°There¡­ we go¡­¡± He smirked that way. ¡°Can¡¯t make yourself move in any other direction, and the one you¡¯re facing doesn¡¯t help when you can¡¯t move, huh? Be as fast as you want while staying completely still in the air. So fucking useful.¡±


    Amber said nothing. She simply hung there from the coils and glared at him, mouth tightly closed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t fucking mean to kill your dad, like I said,¡± Jerry insisted. ¡°But fuck, it was pretty fun to see you freak out about it so much. Wah, I¡¯m so sad cuz my daddy died. I¡¯m gonna do everything I can to find the person who did it. Oh hey Whamline, wanna get a drink? Fucking hilarious.¡±


    Amber said nothing.


    Jerry scowled that way, trembling from the effort he was exerting. He had eleven whole coils in play at the same time, six of which were bracing the surrounding support pillars. ¡°It wasn¡¯t personal when I killed your dad, and killing you isn¡¯t gonna be personal either. He was an accident, and you¡¯re just a means to an end. You¡¯re my way to get into the Scions. Or, you know, into Cup¡¯s pants. Have you seen the way she fills those things out? You¡¯re a dyke, right? You get it.¡±


    Amber said nothing.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna die right here,¡± Jerry informed her. ¡°My little friends there are gonna hold you just like that while I step out of the way, then I¡¯ll let those support pillars go and watch that whole ceiling cave in right on top of you. The coils can hold you there, but they won¡¯t protect you from that. You¡¯ll be crushed. Won¡¯t that be amazing? The girl whose entire schtick is movement powers dies as something heavy falls on top of her. I think Cup¡¯ll like it. You know, as soon as she¡¯s better.¡±


    Amber said nothing.


    ¡°Goddamnit, fucking answer me, you self-righteous cunt!¡± Jerry took a step that way, his frustration evident. ¡°You think you¡¯re better than me? You think you¡¯re smarter than me?!¡±


    Amber¡­ smiled. And then she spat out the piece of concrete she had caught with her mouth while he was slamming her repeatedly into the pillar. The small, almost inconsequential bit of debris went right into Jerry¡¯s eye. He, in turn, staggered backward with a yelp. Which loosened his grip on Amber just enough for her to twist herself to the left. South, intangibility. She dropped out of his grip entirely, but turned tangible so he would feel the full effect of her foot colliding with his groin as hard as she could manage.


    The boy collapsed with a strangled cry, losing control over his coils. They all exploded at once, doing irrevocable damage to the pillars they were propping up. Immediately, the ceiling above began to collapse, creaking and breaking under the pressure without the supports in place.


    Even in as much pain as he was, Jerry recognized the threat. As cracks rapidly spread throughout the ceiling over their heads, he saw Amber there. His agony and exhaustion made it impossible to focus on creating any more coils. Instead, he tried to scramble forward on his hands and knees. He reached out toward her, his fingers barely inches away from the girl as he wheezed out a desperate, panicked, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay!? I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    Amber¡¯s hands caught his as he reached for her. She held on tightly, meeting his gaze while speaking in a soft, flat tone. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re sorry.


    ¡°Tell my dad.¡±


    And with that, she released his hands, saw the look in his eyes, and teleported away from the collapsing ceiling¡­ without him. As several tons worth of debris rained down on that spot from the entire unfinished second story collapsing, she sent herself northward just beyond the building. She heard his scream of rage, disbelief, terror, and finally nothing at all as he was buried under all of that.


    As the dust settled, Amber turned to look that way. She stared at the rubble until her gaze found a limp, extended hand. It was still reaching out toward her as though pleading for help that would never come. The rest of the body was buried.


    Staring at that hand for a long moment, Amber briefly thought it was rising. But no, she was falling, collapsing to her knees. Her vision blurred, then faded completely into tears as she doubled over.


    That was how Dani found her. The other girl came sprinting up, stopping short at the sight in front of her as she interpreted it. Then she went down to her own knees in front of Amber and wrapped her arms around the other girl, hugging her tightly.


    As soon as she felt Dani there, Amber returned the embrace. Her face was pressed into the girl¡¯s shoulder, soaking her costume through with tears. ¡°He¡¯s gone¡­ he¡¯s gone¡­¡±


    Dani opened her mouth, glancing toward the extended hand that was sticking out of the debris. But at that moment, she knew Amber wasn¡¯t talking about him. Swallowing, she whispered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your dad. I wish I could have known him.¡±


    Her words brought more tears, while Amber clung to her even tighter. A dam had broken, shattering apart as more than a year¡¯s worth of grief came pouring out all at once.


    Amber finally had the answer she had been looking for so desperately. Her father¡¯s killer was gone. Jerry would never hurt or kill anyone else. Maybe someday that would be enough. Maybe she would eventually find some measure of satisfaction in his death.


    But right now, she just wanted her dad. And that was something she would never have.

 Patreon Snippets 22 (Part One)

    A look at an Autistic Star-Touched and how their condition affects their life and work.


    Present Day, Somewhere In Chicago


    ¡°Everybody just shut the fuck up!¡± The man bellowing that demand wore a gray and red ski mask and an old army surplus coat with obvious armored plating added to it here and there. He also carried a shotgun, which he panned back and forth in front of a group of huddled, terrified hostages. They were all kneeling together on the floor of a parking garage in downtown Chicago. The same parking garage that they had all, as employees of the company who occupied the building above, been on their way through at the end of a long workday to go home and spend the evening unwinding, or enjoying the rather busy Chicago nightlife. A few of them even had plans together.


    And yet, now it seemed as though they might never actually make it home after all. They had all either been grabbed as they walked to their vehicles, or dragged out of the driver''s seat, and forced over to this spot in the center of the room. The man shouting was one of six similarly armed and dressed figures in sight of the prisoners. The other five roamed that part of the parking garage, searching for any person who might have managed to hide through the commotion. They already had other people stationed at the exits, who had caught a couple trying to flee and dragged them in to join their coworkers.


    Once he was satisfied that things were quiet enough, the shouting man cleared his throat and lowered his gun a bit with a muttered curse about how it was easier dealing with children than these people. ¡°Now, if you wanna just be quiet enough for me to explain what''s going on, maybe we can get through this. Look, this ain''t about you. It''s about the scum-sucking corporation you throw your lives away for.¡± He paused, a soft chuckle escaping him. ¡°Maybe more literally today than usual, but hey. What else can we do to get the attention of the public? These corporations are making billions off you sheep, and the only way to really bring them down is to show everyone out there how utterly pointless it is, and how little they give a shit about people. So here''s what''s gonna happen. Do you see those numbers we gave you?¡± He waited until the hostages all stared down at the laminated cut-out numbers they had been forced to take, ranging from one all the way up to forty-six. One for each. ¡°We''re going to be auctioning you off to your dear employers. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars each. We¡¯ll go in order, one, two, three, four, and so on. So, to get every single one of you back safe and sound now they¡¯ll just have to pay eleven million, five hundred thousand. It shouldn''t be anything at all for a place like that, right? Not with the sort of profits you helped bring in over the past year by itself. I mean hell, that¡¯s not even half of your CEO¡¯s golden parachute that¡¯s waiting for him if the merger they¡¯re working on goes through. You know, the merger that might just mean half of you lose your jobs anyway. You all did know about that, right? Or did they keep it a secret so you wouldn¡¯t fuck up the negotiations they¡¯ve been working so hard on?¡±


    He waited for a moment before continuing. ¡°Now, you might be thinking that this isn''t a very fair test, since public perception is going to change their response and there¡¯s no way they¡¯d just let you die with the way all the innocent civvies would react. But here''s a little secret. The public doesn''t know about this yet. Nope, no one else besides the people at the very top of the corporate leadership knows exactly what¡¯s going on, that you''ve been taken prisoner, and we''re monitoring all communications out of the building. We made it clear to them that this has to be an in-house thing. They think it''s because we don''t want the authorities involved, or for the public to ever know about it. In fact, we¡¯ve actually given them a financial incentive to write you off. If they don''t pay, then we''re going to collapse in this parking garage. And with evidence the construction firm cut corners, they''ll be able to sue that firm into the ground.


    ¡°So, to recap, they can pay eleven and a half million dollars to get you back safe and sound, or they can pay nothing, and end up getting a hell of a lot more money without any blame coming back on them. Or so they think. But as soon as they decide to keep their money and let you die, well, then everyone will know the truth about it after all. And everyone will see that they need to burn these corporations to the ground. So don''t feel bad, you all might die today, but you''ll be instrumental in bringing about the downfall of an evil, soul-sucking evil company like the one you work for. Honestly, when it all comes down to it, I think you''ll end up with your own statues commemorating the occasion. Maybe they''ll put them up right in this spot.¡± He used the shotgun to gesture around the area they were sitting. ¡°They could tear down this entire building and put a nice, pretty park here. Your statues can be arranged around in a circle so no one ever forgets your sacrifice.¡±


    ¡°You are very rude.¡±


    The statement came not from any of the hostages, but from a figure who emerged from behind one of the concrete pillars nearby. She was a slender woman, about five and a half feet tall. She wore dark burgundy pants with intricate dark gold patterns which almost looked like very elaborate cursive writing without ever actually being able to be deciphered as real letters, as well as a loose, long-sleeved shirt that was the opposite in coloring, dark gold with two burgundy lines running up the sides and down over the outside of her arms. Her gloves were dark to the point of almost being black, matching her boots. Her head and face were entirely encased within a dark burgundy helmet, with a gold visor that made seeing her expression impossible.


    ¡°Making me side with the scum-sucking corporation,¡± she continued, ¡°is annoying.¡±


    ¡°Wh--Lexeme!?¡± The man who had been so calm and collected while explaining his murderous plot to the helpless prisoners spun that way and raised his shotgun. All around the newly-arrived figure the other five did the same. They surrounded her with their weapons pointed that way. ¡°How the fuck did she get in here, you morons?! You were supposed to be watching all of the entrances and backing each other up! But some fucking Star-Touched Conservator cunt strolls right in? How incompetent are you assholes?!¡± With those bellowed words echoing through the garage, he focused on the costumed woman. ¡°Now you listen to me, this doesn''t have to get ugly. No one has to get hurt.¡± Even as he said that, his voice shook, betraying his nervousness.


    The Star-Touched in question tilted her head slightly. She wasn¡¯t looking at the guns that were all leveled at her, or at the man addressing her. Hell, she wasn¡¯t even looking at the hostages. Instead, her attention seemed to be directed toward a spot in the distant corner, where a damaged pipe was leaking bits of water onto the concrete floor below, with a soft, almost imperceptible dripping sound. Every time a drop hit the gathered puddle, her head rocked a tiny bit. It was almost like a slight, yet physical blow.


    ¡°Uh, hello?¡± The man in charge stared at the woman for a brief moment as he tried to figure out what she was doing before grunting. ¡°Fuck it, take her down!¡± He was already putting action to words, squeezing the trigger of his shotgun. ¡°We¡¯ve got the--¡±


    In that instant, just as the surrounding criminals took aim to fire and bring down the Star-Touched who had interrupted their plot, she spoke a single word in a voice that seemed to reverberate through the whole area. ¡°CATCH.¡±


    Despite what some might''ve thought, it wasn''t an instruction or a warning. Not exactly. Instead, along with the sound of that single word came the visual manifestation of it. Glowing blue letters manifested in the air in front of the woman, spelling out that word, ¡®CATCH.¡¯ Each letter was about a foot and a half tall and several inches thick. In an instant, as those triggers were being pulled, the word broke apart. The first C grew to several times its original size and planted itself in front of her, while the A and T also grew and moved to either side. The second C and the H flew around behind her, covering the woman¡¯s back. In the time it took from when the surrounding armed gunmen began to pull their triggers, to when the rounds actually emerged from the weapons, the physically-manifested word surrounded its creator.


    That was when the sound of gunfire (Touched-Tech muffled, yet still rather loud within these confines) echoed throughout the garage. Every single gunman there had a perfect shot at their target. There was no way she could survive being mowed down from six different angles. They were even careful enough not to be aiming at one another through her.


    And yet, their careful aim meant nothing. Lexeme stood throughout the following barrage of gunfire, utterly unmoved and undisturbed.


    When they finally stopped shooting, the men stared as every bullet and slug they had sent that way lay trapped against the letters that surrounded their target. The word ¡®catch¡¯ had literally caught the incoming bullets. A moment later, the letters vanished, and the bullets and slugs all rained down on the cement with a series of metal tinkling sounds.


    Before they could recover from that and shoot again, the woman spoke three more quick words in rapid succession. ¡°TAKE. PUSH. DETAIN.¡±


    Just as before, glowing physical manifestations of the letters for each of those words appeared. TAKE was a green, cursive word with a white outline, the letters blending into one another. That word extended out, the letters themselves merging as the word became a long whip, which lashed out across the front of each armed figure in a wide circle. Every time the end of the ¡®whip¡¯ came near one of the men, the gun he was holding would be torn from his grasp and brought together into a bundle. That bundle of guns all dropped into a pile at the costumed figure¡¯s feet.


    The hostage-takers didn¡¯t have a chance to react to their guns being taken away, let alone try to reclaim them. The word PUSH manifested in bright purple letters, appearing bold and even thicker than the previous words. An instant after appearing, the four letters which made up the word broke apart, each splitting to fly off to the woman¡¯s front, back, and either side. And as they did so, a concussive blast of energy erupted from each letter to slam into the gathered men. All six of them were struck by one blast or more, sending them flying several feet before they crashed down onto the floor.


    Finally, there was the third word, DETAIN. That one appeared in gold lettering, each one three feet in height but as thin as paper. As soon as it manifested, each letter of the word broke apart, much like the previous one. In this case, however, there were six letters. One for each of the six men. Those letters flew off, each slamming down onto one of the fallen figures before they could pick themselves up. No matter how much the men struggled, they couldn¡¯t free themselves. The letters pinned them to the ground, keeping them trapped. Or rather, detained.


    Once those men were all taken care of, Lexeme turned to look at the gathered hostages and spoke another word. ¡°SNIP.¡± Those four letters appeared in small, green form before the word bent in half like the blades of a pair of scissors. The scissors formed from that word flew over and began to cut the ropes that were keeping the prisoners bound.


    As soon as they were freed, the people all scrambled to their feet and began to lavish praise, thanks, and questions on the woman who had saved them. The voices coming from all sides blended into one another, making individual sentences impossible to pick out. Unhelped, of course, by the continued presence of that dripping pipe in the background. Worse, the trapped criminals were shouting threats, adding to the auditory chaos. The words all came at different volumes and in different tones, but each was piercing no matter how quiet or loud. It was like trying to listen to five different songs at the same time, all at different volumes, and while an undercurrent of sharp static played throughout.


    Thank sssssskkkk  COULD HAVE kkkksssss KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS


    UPPITY CUNT kkkssshhh get my gun


    drip drip ssskkkss  people would kill sssss


    drip sskkksss  so much kkkkssshhhssskkk  bravest thing I ever


    think you¡¯re such hot shit kssssskkkss


    ssssshhhhssss  need to call ssssskkkkk


    drip sssss guns and they sssskkkkksss if you hadn¡¯t


    I love your costume, who ssskkkss BLEEDING AND CRYING


    kkksssss my son was drip drip


    sssskkkk LOSE THE ONLY MOTHER sssssss any idea how dangerous kkksshhhhsssss


    THANK YOU THANK YOU kkssssshhhhkkkssss


    drip told them to put security


    drip drip call them right now.


    kshhhhsssskkkkkk IF ANYONE COULD FIND


    drip drip sure they don¡¯t have help


    Forty-six incredibly grateful, ecstatic, and loud people surrounding her and talking all at once, mixed with the very ungrateful and unhappy voices of the bad guys she had captured. Their voices assaulted her, seeming to slam into her from every angle as she stood with her head down, staring at the floor. Her body rocked back and forth a little while she held her arms out and down at an angle slightly away from her body. Her fingers stretched out and up, as far apart as they could get, then closed in on one another in something approximating a fist before opening and widening apart once more. Her arms gradually moved up and down through that whole process.


    Through all of that, the woman looked around, making absolutely certain that the area was clear. The bad guys were contained, they had no more backup (she had already taken care of the ones standing guard at the exits), and the civilians were safe. It was hard with all the sounds assaulting her, but she forced herself to focus for those few seconds, powering through the cacophony.


    Finally, once certain that everything was under control, she pressed a button on her glove to send a message outside of the garage, then spoke another power word. ¡°QUIET.¡± In this case, the word manifested as large, almost six-foot-tall, very fluffy letters in soft yellow coloring. Immediately, the word wrapped itself around its creator, blocking her off from all the former hostages clamoring to thank her, as well as the trapped gunmen who had been shouting their own curses and threats.


    And just like that, all that outside noise disappeared. Within the confines of her cloud-like lettering, the woman was left in blessed silence. She continued to stand like that, eyes closed as she quietly hummed the jingle from an old cereal commercial that hadn¡¯t actually been on the air for at least a decade. Her hands continued to open and shut like that while she rocked herself for the next minute or so. The commercial jingle wasn''t very long, but she hummed it to herself three more times before stopping. Finally, she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. People. People were there. People were waiting. She was okay. She could do this.


    How was this supposed to go? What was she supposed to say? Reassure them. Yes, she could do that. It was the right thing to do after what they had been through.


    Finally lowering her hands back to her sides, Lexeme made the quiet word fade away and prepared herself to be assaulted by sound from all sides. And yet, she didn''t find herself surrounded by dozens of former hostages after all. They were being taken care of by several police officers and paramedics who had made it into the garage by that point. Other officers were trying to pull the trapped criminals out from under the letters pinning them down. Seeing that, she quickly made those disappear as well, watching for a moment as the would-be mass murderers were handcuffed and taken away.


    ¡°Hey, you okay?¡± One of the cops spoke up from a few feet back, his attention on her. ¡°I know that was kind of a lot to deal with. But hey, you saved all those people.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I am--wait.¡± Before continuing that, Lexeme glanced toward that dripping pipe and spoke another word. ¡°STICKY.¡± The grayish-blue letters went flying off to envelop the pipe, forming a glob against it that would prevent more drips and remain at least long enough for her to get through this interaction and leave so it wouldn¡¯t be pounding through her head like a hammer anymore.


    That done, she turned her attention back to the officer. ¡°Yes, I am fine.¡± The words came bluntly, which almost immediately made her rethink them. Wait, was she supposed to say something else? Was thank you something that was supposed to be added onto the end of something like that? When someone asked if you were okay, that meant they were expressing concern for your well-being. The polite thing would be to thank them for that concern, right? For a moment, she ran through other, similar conversations she remembered hearing, both in real life and in movies and television. Several seconds of silence passed before she settled on playing it safe. ¡°Thank you.¡± Better to come off as awkward than rude. People thought she was rude far too often, even when she tried to explain that she didn¡¯t mean to. Unfortunately, there were plenty of times when she didn¡¯t even realize that there was anything wrong until far too much time had passed to even try to sort things out. Sometimes someone would tell her she had been rude or annoying to another person days or even weeks later, as part of some completely different subject. Which she didn¡¯t think was very fair, because how was she supposed to do something about it then? She had tried before, but the people she tried to talk to about things that had happened weeks earlier were always baffled by why she was bringing it up again. Sometimes they even thought she was intentionally being rude again by talking about it, as if she was rubbing it in or something.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Pushing those thoughts aside, Lexeme focused on the friendly police officer who had stopped to check on her. She didn¡¯t extend a hand that way. It probably would have been the proper thing to do. Shaking hands was definitely on the list of appropriate social responses, but she just couldn''t bring herself to do it. The sensation of having her hand held by another person, their fingers clasped against one another, just felt wrong. Sometimes she could manage it for a quick moment, but not now. Nor did she meet his gaze. But that fact, at least, was hidden by the colored visor she wore. He couldn¡¯t see where her eyes were pointed, as long as the helmet was turned in his general direction. Instead, she continued to look at a spot slightly past the man while offering as politely as possible, ¡°It''s nice to meet you, Officer¡­¡± She leaned closer a bit and moved her gaze from the pillar in the distance to the uniform long enough to read his nametag. ¡°... Johnson.¡±


    Officer Johnson, for his part, gave a very soft cough. ¡°Ah, we¡¯ve met actually. A few different times. You helped clear out that sniper nest a couple weeks ago and I asked you if you knew any good Greek restaurants around the area because I just moved here a few months back and my wife¡¯s parents were about to visit?¡±


    Lexeme gave a bit of a double-take, looking him up and down. ¡°No,¡± she reflexively started in a blunt tone. ¡°You¡¯re not--wait.¡± She gave him another look, running through her mental catalog of visual features. Looking at his face didn''t really help. It was just a face. Two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. She was pretty sure the eyes were dark from the brief glimpse she¡¯d gotten before looking away, but a lot of people had dark eyes. How did anyone look at one face and magically tell it apart from any other face? He was a blond-haired, dark-eyed policeman in a uniform like so many others. Even the name Johnson was incredibly bland. Which was completely unfair. No name should ever be repeated, especially not as commonly as Johnson was. It was just impossible to tell them all apart by name, and names were supposed to be how you did that.


    But she did, at least, remember the event he was talking about. It wasn''t him though. He wasn''t the one she talked to about Greek restaurants. And yet, why would he lie about that? It didn''t make sense, and that was starting to make her feel paranoid. Fortunately, in the next moment, she realized. ¡°Hair. You cut your hair. It''s different.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± The man touched the back of his head. ¡°Yeah I guess it was a few inches longer and a bit more curly. It was getting in the way, so I had one of my barber friends shave it down for me.¡± Immediately after acknowledging that, he blinked back to her. ¡°Ohhh, shit, sorry, that¡¯s why you didn¡¯t recognize me, huh? Yeah, I heard you¡¯re a umm¡­ sorry, what¡¯s the right term? A person with autism?¡±


    ¡°Autistic person,¡± she corrected him, her gaze still fixed on a spot roughly six inches to the left of his face. ¡°Identity-first language. IFL. That¡¯s what we prefer, usually. But you should ask the person. Others are different. We¡¯re not all the same. You have blond hair, that doesn¡¯t mean you like the same things as every other man with blond hair. We don¡¯t have a hive mind. Your world is safe from invasion.¡± She smiled a bit at her own words before realizing that her flat tone might not have conveyed the intention, and her face was hidden. ¡°That was a joke.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, thanks.¡± Officer Johnson hesitated before coughing awkwardly. ¡°And that was a dumb way to respond to it, huh? Sorry, it was funny, I just¡­ is it hard? You know, doing what you do while being--I mean having--you know.¡±


    ¡°No--yes¡­ not¡­¡± Lexeme started and stopped trying to respond a couple times, before falling silent briefly as she thought it through carefully. ¡°It¡¯s not difficult to be a Star-Touched. I enjoy helping people. I can do it. I have the ability, and people need help. The um, what you would call difficulties exist in everything, everywhere. Going shopping can be loud and bright, driving, being outside when others are, just being part of the world can be challenging. I¡­ work through it. Sometimes better than others. Sometimes I¡­ I see something and I think it¡¯s strange. I don¡¯t understand it. But I don¡¯t know if¡­ if it¡¯s strange because it¡¯s just strange, or because I don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s me or¡­ or them, it, the thing. And it¡¯s hard to ask. People don¡¯t like it when you ask if what they¡¯re doing is normal or strange.


    ¡°So, yes, there are challenges. But the challenges don¡¯t exist because I use my powers to help people. They exist because the world is challenging. It just is, and it would be no matter what I did for a living. Oh, living. I have to go.¡± She started to turn away, paused, then turned back to look at his nametag again while speaking carefully once more, though taking the time to choose her words probably made it sound stilted and unnatural. ¡°I--ahh--appreciate your question and this conversation. I¡¯ve had much worse interactions, especially with police. I don¡¯t like you very much.¡± Once again, she began to turn to leave, then reversed her motion to add an even more stilted, ¡°The--police you, not you you. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re fine. I told you I was fine to start my part of this conversation. Now I¡¯m telling you that you are fine to end it. Symmetry. Goodbye.¡±


    Finally, she strode away quickly. All around her, police officers were talking at one another, radios were going off, police cars were sitting with their colorful lights playing across the dimly-lit garage interior, and people were taking pictures, their irregular bright flashes making her flinch a little each time.


    Instead of going out the front exit where there were bound to be reporters, even more police cars with those flashing lights, and witnesses all with their own questions, she walked to a nearby elevator. The same one many of the former hostages had taken to get down to the garage in the first place, and the one she herself had ridden to make it there in time to intervene.


    There was a camera on the elevator, but it was already disabled. She knew that, because she was the one who had disabled it. Or rather, she¡¯d transferred the feed from the next elevator over to the camera for this one several minutes earlier. So no one sitting in the security room would see as she pushed the stop button when the elevator was halfway from the parking garage to the first floor.


    With the elevator stopped, the woman reached up to undo the clasps on either side of the helmet at her neck. She unlatched it, pulling the helmet open and off to reveal a dark-skinned figure in her mid-twenties, with straight black hair that was cut short, barely falling past her ears. Her eyes were dark green, and clouded with worry and stress at the moment as she set the helmet aside on the nearby bench. But she herself sat on the floor, tucking herself into the corner with her knees drawn up. A phone, tugged from a hidden pocket in her costume, rested against her legs as she held onto the corners of it with her index fingers to keep it in place. ¡°Kindry,¡± she spoke the command word for her phone¡¯s digital assistant. ¡°Play Soft List One.¡± Even as she said it, her body was rocking back and forth against the wall, and she could hear her own heavy breathing.


    There was an affirmative beep, before her YouTube app opened and a video began to play. It was an old cereal commercial from the nineties. Not the same one as the jingle she had hummed to herself earlier, but from the same general time period. As the commercial played, her lips moved along with the words, silently mouthing every line. That video gave way to another, about an entirely different cereal, and by the time the second was done, her breathing had eased significantly. The turmoil in her eyes lightened, and she even smiled as the third video began. The smile lit up her face, and she stopped rocking. Once that third commercial was over, she put the phone back to sleep, slipped it into her pocket once more, and rose to pick up her helmet. But she didn¡¯t put it back on. Instead, she turned to face the nearby closed elevator doors and used her power, speaking another word. ¡°CLOSET.¡±


    This particular manifested word appeared in a form quite different from the previous ones. Each letter was about two feet tall, with the C and L next to one another on the floor, the O on top of the C, S nestled within the open space of the L, and the E and T on top of the O and S. It formed a rectangle of letters, essentially, two on each ¡®level.¡¯ The letters themselves were a few feet thick, creating a structure in front of the woman that took up much of the space within the elevator.


    As soon as the jumbled word appeared, she reached out to put her hand against the S-shape and tugged at it. The entire front of the structure opened up, revealing an interior which looked like¡­ well, precisely the word it was. It was a closet full of shoes, shirts, pants, and more. Whenever she manifested this particular word, it always contained whatever she had previously put within it. Where the stuff went while the word wasn¡¯t in use, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure. But the stuff was always safe and in the exact same condition she had left it in.


    Her power worked through a combination of the word spoken and her silent intention. Her imagination created the effect the word had, but that effect had to have something to do with the word. She couldn¡¯t just say ¡®pillow¡¯ and make a word that would cut through stone. Intention and word had to work together in some way.


    Over the next thirty seconds or so, she quickly changed clothes, exchanging her costume for the simple jeans, tennis shoes, and black button-up shirt she had been wearing before all this happened. The costume itself, including her helmet, were placed inside the ¡®closet¡¯ and then a simple thought made the manifested word vanish.


    Now, she wasn¡¯t Lexeme anymore. Instead, she was Kiara Weston, freelance website designer and IT consultant. The entire reason she had been able to appear in the parking garage as quickly as she had, before any call had gone out to the police, was that she had already been inside the building doing some work on their servers. When everyone¡¯s phones had shut down, she checked the security feeds, found out what was happening, and changed to her costume before sending the call out to the authorities on her own secure radio that wasn¡¯t blocked or monitored. She had told the police to wait until she sent an all-clear signal. Which she had done just before encasing herself in the ¡®Quiet¡¯ word back in the garage.


    Safely anonymous once more, Kiara hit the button to allow the elevator to proceed upwards. As it reached the first floor, she kept the doors shut while checking the feed for the cameras there to assure herself there was no one waiting. The employees were all locked down in their offices upstairs still, and the lobby was empty save for a couple policemen standing around talking to one another. She had already muted the elevator¡¯s arrival bell, and ensured that it wouldn¡¯t be announcing its movements or arrival on this floor. The elevator was mostly out of sight from the chatting cops, so she simply waited until they turned to look outside, then allowed the doors to open so she could slip out and move down a nearby side hall. That led her around to the server rooms where she had been working to begin with.


    Only once she was safely back inside the room she had started in, surrounded by computer equipment and the reassuring hum of a nearby vending machine, did Kiara allow the building¡¯s cameras to go back to normal. The whole situation would probably confuse their security people, especially given she had intentionally blacked out or manipulated more camera feeds than just the ones she needed, in order to avoid letting them track her movements that way. But they could deal with that. Her entire focus was on her phone, which she finally used for its actual intended purpose: to place a call.


    ¡°Hi!¡± she greeted the person on the other end once they picked up. ¡°You heard? Yeah, I¡¯m just running a little late. I¡¯ll get out of here as soon as I can. Do you mind--yes. Thank you so much. Goodbye.¡±


    Disconnecting the call, Kiara slumped back in a swivel seat, dropped her phone next to the keyboard, and let out a long, deep breath. Now all she had to do was sit here in the nice, quiet room, play innocent civilian, and wait until it was safe to leave.


    That couldn¡¯t take too long, right?


    ***********


    Two hours. It was two hours before she was able to leave. The police had everything locked down, and while she could easily have left the place as Lexeme, the fact that Kiara Weston was gone might have raised questions with the people who had hired her to come and work on their servers in the first place. Especially considering the timing. Some criminals show up to try this on the exact same day that she happened to be working on their systems? That was bad enough to start with, but if she happened to disappear before they were officially released, it might prompt people to look into her. And that was something she¡¯d rather avoid. Yes, being part of the local Conservators group meant such a situation would be dealt with, but it was still a complication.


    On top of all that, there was the interrogation with one of the cops who stopped by the server room to check on things. Oh, sure, it probably wasn¡¯t much of an interrogation from his point of view. She wasn¡¯t really a suspect in their minds, and he almost certainly saw it as a casual conversation. But the fact was, face-to-face casual conversations with strangers could be difficult at the best of times. And in this case she had to get through the conversation without appearing¡­ different. She couldn¡¯t calm herself down with any of her preferred stims like humming commercial jingles or her finger exercises, because this particular cop wasn¡¯t cleared to know her identity. She didn¡¯t want him to start thinking about how the woman in the server room and Lexeme the Star-Touched just happened to exhibit similar behaviors. But the problem was that she didn¡¯t always know what sort of behaviors came off as strange to other people. She was afraid of saying or doing something that seemed perfectly normal to her, but would stand out to him. So, for the most part, she simply sat there as rigidly as possible and gave him one or two word answers. Which probably either came off as suspicious or like she was traumatized by the experience.


    It was another complication. But finally she was allowed to leave. Gathering up her bag from the corner of the room, she quickly exited through one of the side doors, avoiding any contact with other people. This had already taken long enough as it was. She was late. She was so late. Kiara hated being late. It was wrong. There was a time for things, a time you were supposed to do them, when you had agreed to do them. She had a schedule, she had plans. In this life, doing the things she had to do often meant breaking that schedule. That was something she had come to peace with (mostly) long ago. But that certainly didn¡¯t mean she liked it. It was always grating.


    After escaping the building and sending her report to the supervisor who had hired her in the first place, Kiara quickly made her way to where her car was parked down the street and soon she was driving away at the fastest acceptable limit. She used Kindry to send a text that she was on her way, and apologized again for taking so long.


    A few minutes later, she managed to find a parking spot near the apartment building in question. But a quick squint across the street revealed that old Mrs. Drexler was sitting out on the front stoop again. The woman was nice enough, but she didn''t understand the concept of personal space, and she was always trying to take Kiara¡¯s hand to guide her around like she was a child. She even talked to her like a child. After everything that happened, Kiara just wasn''t in the mood for that. So, she went around to the building next door and took the elevator all the way to the top floor, then took the stairs onto the roof.


    The buildings were too far apart to easily jump, and the window she was aiming for was still a couple stories higher than where she stood. But that didn¡¯t matter. Giving a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she spoke another word. ¡°ESCALATOR.¡± And just like that, two foot wide letters spelling out that word appeared in a diagonal formation, with the bottom letter, the R, situated directly in front of her at the edge of the roof. Stepping forward, Kiara waited as an invisible force on top of the letters moved her from the R to the O. At that moment, the R dropped below the rest of the word, made its way underneath it all the way up to the opposite side of the E, and waited there. The same thing happened to the O when the invisible force carried her past that and to the T, and so on. Soon the word ¡®ESCALATOR¡¯ had completely rewritten itself a second time, allowing her to rise along that invisible force to reach the window she had been aiming for. Standing there on the E for the second time, she reached out to gently tap the glass there.


    ¡°Kiara!¡± The window was pulled open, as a tall, red-haired woman with broad shoulders and a ready smile beckoned her. ¡°Come on, come on, before someone sees you out there! Is everything okay? We saw something on the news, but--¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all fine, Audrey,¡± Kiara confirmed, slipping in through the open window before hopping down to the kitchen floor. ¡°No one died and the criminals are going to prison. Thank you for watching her for so long, I know that wasn¡¯t our agreement.¡±


    ¡°Oh pish tosh,¡± Audrey insisted. ¡°She¡¯s an angel. I¡¯ll take her anytime you need. Lord knows, you do plenty enough for others.¡±


    Before Kiara could respond, a new voice called from the doorway into the kitchen. ¡°Mama!¡± A small, five-year-old mixed race Black and Asian girl ran into view before all-but jumping into her waiting arms. ¡°You were a superhero again!?¡±


    ¡°Some people needed a little help,¡± the woman confirmed, holding her up with a smile. She stared that way, marveling a bit. Even now, she could see Qian in those eyes, three and a half years after her husband¡¯s death. Still, she pushed off those thoughts. They would just make her sad, and her daughter didn¡¯t deserve to think that she made her mother sad. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t matter, Megan. Why don¡¯t you tell me about what you did in class before Miss Audrey picked you up?¡±


    So, they went into the living room and Megan told her mother all about what they had done that day in Kindergarten. Kiara sat on the floor and played with the girl for a bit longer, before they put the toys away in Megan¡¯s pink backpack and got ready to leave. Kiara thanked her babysitter once again, to which Miss Audrey assured her that she was ready and willing to help any time.


    Together, mother and daughter took the actual elevator downstairs and walked out of the building. Mrs. Drexler was still there, but Kiara was able to use the excuse that she had to feed Megan to keep going straight to her car without slowing down to chat.


    On the way home, they stopped to eat at a McDonald''s. By the time Kiara had typed their order into the self-serve kiosk and picked up their drink cups, Megan already found them a table in the back corner, away from anyone else. The two of them sat together and Megan took a sip of her drink before happily asking, ¡°Mama, why is Ronald McDonald a clown if he owns all the McDonald¡¯s? Are clowns rich?¡±


    Kiara¡¯s mouth opened before she paused. ¡°Real or fun answer?¡± It was a system they had worked out through trial and error so she would know if her daughter wanted her to play along with something or be serious and actually answer her.


    ¡°Real,¡± the five-year-old firmly replied, taking another sip of her drink.


    Drawing from a truly encyclopedic knowledge of fast food restaurants gained largely thanks to a fascination with them that had developed from spending so much time in them as a child to parents who didn¡¯t have much time for her but knew it was a good way to keep her busy for an hour, Kiara launched into her explanation. ¡°Ronald is more like the mascot. You know, like Benny the Bull at the basketball games? He cheers people up. Way back in the nineteen sixties-- that¡¯s how old you are times twelve. Twelve Megans old. Anyway, back then, in Washington DC, there was a show about another clown named Bozo. And a man named Barry convinced the McDonald¡¯s there to make commercials and put them on with the Bozo the Clown show so people there would go buy their food. But then the Bozo show was canceled. They didn¡¯t make any more of it. So that Barry guy convinced the Washington DC McDonald¡¯s to hire the man who played Bozo to make some commercials for them. But he couldn¡¯t be Bozo because that was another show and they didn¡¯t want to confuse everybody. So they made his new name Ronald. He was Ronald McDonald. And after they made a few commercials for those McDonald¡¯s in DC, the rich people in charge of all the McDonald¡¯s saw how popular he was, so they decided to make him the mascot for everywhere.¡±


    By that time, their food had been brought out. Kiara barely paid attention to that beyond helping Megan open her Happy Meal box and get herself situated. The flood gates had been opened, and she proceeded to explain the origins of Grimace (as the bad, milkshake stealing Evil Grimace), the Hamburglar (originally known as the Lone Jogger and previously paired with the pirate-themed Captain Crook), Birdie, and even the long-since unused Mayor McCheese. For the next twenty minutes, she regaled her daughter with stories about where these old characters had come from. Megan had given her permission to talk about one of her favorite subjects, and the information just kept pouring out of her.


    They were just finishing their dinner when the phone buzzed in her pocket. Checking the ID, she answered. ¡°Do I need to go somewhere private?¡±


    ¡°Probably a good idea once we get into it,¡± came the answer from Jonah Gardner. Better known as Big Top, one of her teammates on the Conservators. ¡°First, sorry to interrupt. Heard you did some good work earlier, but I wouldn¡¯t have called about that, not when you just picked up Megan. It¡¯s about that thing we talked about the other day. Do you think you¡¯d be up for it? Because they¡¯re really pushing it now.¡±


    Kiara paused, looking at her daughter for a moment before letting out a breath. ¡°Megan and I talked about it and¡­ and if they need me, we¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°They need you. They need both of us with everything going on,¡± Jonah confirmed.


    ¡°So I guess you should pack your bags. The two of us have gotta go help stop Detroit from falling apart.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 22 (Part Two)

    A look at how Simon reacts to the news about Izzy being abducted


    Yesterday Morning


    Simon Evans brought his red Ferrari to a screeching halt at the edge of an old thrift store parking lot on the outskirts of the city. The engine revved a bit as he squinted toward a group of random figures in civilian clothes who had gathered in the middle of the lot. They were all looking his way expectantly, some very clearly trying to take in every detail they could. Not that they would¡¯ve gotten much out of what they saw. The car license plate was fake, and he was already wearing a mask to go with the silver shirt, jeans, and red leather jacket he used in his guise as Squire for the Ministry. The mask usually wasn¡¯t necessary thanks to his mother¡¯s illusion powers, but at this point, those weren¡¯t an option. And if they didn¡¯t find a way to cure--


    His hand smacked the steering wheel hard as he forced his thoughts away from that. It wouldn¡¯t happen. They were going to make sure of that. And being here right now was part of that. Shoving his door open, he got out, allowing the engine to turn off automatically as soon as he stood up. It was still early enough that the sun was just rising off in the distance, casting eerie shadows over the lot. His own stretched off clear over one of the nearby buildings as he walked through one of the beams of sunlight poking through the trees and signs.


    Only once he had come within ten feet of the group did Simon--or Squire as every person here would know him-- speak up. ¡°Word on the grapevine is that you have something and you won¡¯t share it with anyone who can¡¯t make a certain deal with you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± There were twelve people gathered there, and the obvious leader stepped forward. He was a heavy-set man wearing biker clothes and an obvious holster at his hip. ¡°Maybe we do have something useful. What¡¯s it worth to ya? Cuz from where we¡¯re sitting, knowing anything about this Sleeptalk shit is pretty valuable.¡±


    Sleeptalk. That was what most people had settled on calling the condition affecting Simon¡¯s parents and so many others. It was both simple and effective as a name. Though even hearing it now made the young man remember seeing his mother and father in those beds like¡­ like that, which sent a rush of anger through him.


    He didn¡¯t show it. Not even in a tightening of his fist. Maybe before, while his parents were safe, he could have indulged in that sort of display. But right now there was too much at stake for him to take risks like that. His body language betrayed no reaction.


    Instead, Simon simply replied in as flat a tone as he could manage, ¡°That depends on how good the information is. Your message implied that you have something specific in mind as far as rewards go.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± one of the men behind their leader piped up with obvious annoyance, ¡°but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve really got the sort of pull it¡¯d take to get it done. People keep saying there¡¯s some group that can do something like this, but even if there is, it ain¡¯t you.¡±


    Simon¡¯s gaze met that man¡¯s in silence for a moment as he counted off a few seconds in his head. Calm. He could keep his cool and not overreact, no matter how anxious he felt, no matter how helpless the situation with his parents had made him feel. For the sake of everything they had built, he could breathe in, breathe out, and calm down.


    Instead of snapping, his hand moved to the pocket of his leather jacket. He caught the way every person in front of him reacted to the motion, their own hands moving to hidden holsters and sheaths. But he simply withdrew a burner phone and held it up. A second later, the phone began ringing. He tossed it underhand toward the leader. ¡°You¡¯re gonna want to answer that.¡±


    Catching the cell, the man squinted at the masked figure uncertainly. ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°If I have to explain what you¡¯re holding,¡± Simon retorted, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you won¡¯t know anything useful after all.¡± Just because he couldn¡¯t show how angry and frustrated he was didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t be sarcastic when the situation called for it.


    The phone rang twice more before the man answered, holding it up to his ear with a clearly uncertain tone. ¡°Yeah, who is--what? Freddy?¡± Just saying that single name made every other person there abruptly start with surprise, murmuring to one another. ¡°Where the hell--what did--are you serious? Wait, what was the name of the girl you and me were crushing on in sixth--holy shit, it¡¯s you. Wait, hang on.¡±


    Looking up from the phone, the man stared at Simon with a completely different sort of expression than he¡¯d had before. ¡°Okay first, how the hell did you get Freddy out of solitary confinement and all the way out of the prison? He says he¡¯s sitting in some diner right now with a few cops who are gonna let him go once they get word from you. And second, how did you know what we were gonna ask for before we ever fucking told you?!¡±


    It was a good thing Simon was wearing a mask right then, because his smirk probably wouldn¡¯t have looked very professional. Still, he managed to keep his voice as even as ever. ¡°We have our ways. And Freddy isn¡¯t just out of prison. His entire record will be wiped, if you really have something good. Impress me, and he¡¯ll be free and clear.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the man and his companions conferred, before he turned back to Simon and nodded. ¡°Well shit, you people came through on your end before we ever even told you what we wanted. So yeah, I¡¯ll tell you exactly what we¡¯ve got. You see that thrift store over there?¡± He nodded that way. ¡°There¡¯s a lab in a secret basement that¡¯s got all this shit in beakers and on the computers. We didn¡¯t look too close cuz of the Scions, but from what we did see it looked like it had to do with the Sleeptalk shit. You can get in through the utility closet in the women¡¯s restroom, there¡¯s a keypad and the code is eighty-four twenty-one.¡±


    Lifting his chin, Simon stared that way. ¡°What was that about the Scions?¡±


    ¡°They was in there!¡± That was one of the other members of their group. ¡°One of our uhh, runners found the place awhile back and thought we could use it to mix some of our shit. You know, have a real lab with high tech equipment and all that. But by the time we showed up, some of those Scions fucks was already messing around in the place.¡±


    ¡°We chased them out,¡± a girl with an aluminum bat in one hand put in. ¡°Well, us and a couple other gangs that live around here. I mean, we might not all get along all the time, but ain¡¯t none of us want that Scions bullshit on any of our turf. We got rid of ¡®em.¡±


    ¡°But they took some of the stuff out with them,¡± the leader added, giving Simon a look. ¡°We dunno what it was, and what¡¯s still in there still looks pretty useful for solving this crisis. You know, if that¡¯s what you people are trying to do.¡±


    ¡°You should¡¯ve led with the Scions part,¡± Simon informed him, staring that way for a long, silent moment before exhaling. ¡°Tell me everything you saw before they took off. Start from the beginning.


    ¡°Impress me, and maybe we¡¯ll throw in a little bonus and wipe out all of your criminal records.¡±


    *********


    Present Day


    ¡°So it¡¯s not the actual Sleeptalk gas itself,¡± Simon summed up what the scientist in front of him was saying. The two of them, along with several others with more PhDs combined than NFL teams had players, were down in the very same secret lab that the gang had pointed out to them a couple days earlier. ¡°That¡¯s not what the Scions left with.¡±


    ¡°Fortunately not,¡± Gregory Pollom, a tall, dark-skinned man who looked entirely too fit and handsome to be a scientist, assured him. ¡°Between the data we collected from the other labs you located, and what was left in this one here, it seems that what they have is an early prototype, in chemical injection form. It will put its victims to sleep for an extended time, but without the¡­ unfortunate extra effects. And there is a cure.¡± Belatedly, he amended, ¡°I mean, of course we believe there will be a cure to the primary attack as well, but this one--¡±


    ¡°You mean there¡¯s already a cure for it,¡± Simon finished. ¡°So what is it?¡±


    Gregory shook his head. ¡°Ah, there isn¡¯t any prepared, but we do have the notes for it. Making the cure is an involved, but relatively simple process for those with the knowledge and equipment. It¡¯s very much a--¡±


    Their conversation was interrupted as Simon¡¯s cell buzzed. He held up one finger, checked the number, then answered. ¡°Gray? Yes, I know you met with Paintball, you already--¡± He stopped talking then, listening intently for a few long seconds. Through it all, his grip on the phone tightened visibly. His knuckles were pressing firmly against one another, and the only reason the phone remained in one piece was because allowing himself to show the reaction he wanted to give in that moment would have cut him off from hearing the rest of the explanation. It did not, however, prevent him from bringing his other fist slamming down on the edge of a silver tray with various tools lying on it, sending the tray clanging loudly to the ground while the instruments went flying off into the wall. All the doctors there spun to face the sudden cacophony, but fell silent when they saw his body language.


    Finally, once he had everything, Simon spoke very carefully and pointedly. He didn¡¯t want to rush and miss anything, no matter how loudly part of him was screaming to throw the phone down and start running. ¡°You¡¯ve put the call into the authorities? Good. Make sure every Star-Touched group gets the message. And contact Blackjack. Yeah, I know. But he¡¯ll still be willing to help if--yes.¡± As he was talking, Simon strode toward the nearby stairs leading up into the old store, only to stop short and turn back. ¡°Doctor Pollom, you were talking about the formula for a cure to the prototype chemical.


    ¡°I think I might need you to write that down for me.¡±


    ******


    A scream filled the air as an incredibly sharp knife was driven through a man¡¯s hand and into the wall behind him. That same scream was cut off as the hand Simon wasn¡¯t using to twist the knife he¡¯d pinned his opponent¡¯s own hand with was driven into his stomach with enough force to knock the wind from him.


    As soon as Paintball sent the message about where the Scions were holed up, Simon had taken a doorway from Yellowbrick to reach a spot nearby. And now--well, now he was working a couple things out.


    ¡°You wanna play Scions?!¡± he bellowed before rearing back to drive his elbow into the man¡¯s face with enough force to break his nose. ¡°I¡¯ll fucking show you what happens to people who think it¡¯s fun to play Scions! Isn¡¯t this fun?! Isn¡¯t causing pain and misery just so goddamn delightful you worthless cocksucker?!¡±


    This man was the last of four lookouts around an alley a block away from the storage facility where Whamline and the other wannabe motherfuckers had brought their hostages. Where they had brought Izzy, Simon¡¯s new baby sister, and planned to kill her.


    It was a thought that made him twist the knife just a little more. The other three fucks who had been waiting for the signal to go running in were already down, after a rather disappointing showing. It was like they barely had any training at all. There were a dozen more spots like this all around the neighborhood where other groups were waiting. The Scions had had a small army ready to swarm the place the second anything happened.


    But now that army was being overrun, mostly thanks to a joint effort between Ten Towers and La Casa. A truce had been declared in order to deal with this situation, and members of both teams were busy taking care of all the gathered Scions reinforcements scattered throughout the surrounding territory so there would be no chance of getting hit from behind once they stormed the storage facility to back up Paintball.


    At least, that was what the official groups were doing. Simon had something else in mind. After giving the man whose hand was still pinned into the wall by the knife a dismissive snort, he caught his chin and used that to slam his head backward into the wall hard enough to leave him unconscious at best. Then he simply left the man dangling there by the knife in his hand and pointed upward, using his Touched-Tech gloves to send a solid-light rope construct all the way to the roof of this building before the rope hauled him upward.


    There were a lot of people around here, but he had a bird¡¯s eye view of the conflict thanks to several drone cameras. It gave him a chance to see the best route across the roofs and to the building in question without being spotted, and soon he was on the roof of the storage facility. Leaning over the edge revealed some sort of hole on the side, which he was guessing led to the right place. So, a quick shot of the rope at the edge of the roof and he was able to swing down inside.


    That led Simon to a hallway with an overturned device that had obviously once been pointed toward the nearby storage room, and a hole in the floor similar to the one in the wall. Through the hole came the sounds of fighting and talking, though the young man wasn¡¯t paying much attention. The door there was open, and as he stepped that way, he could see several figures lying motionless on the floor. But Simon¡¯s eyes only moved to one in particular.


    Izzy. She was there, and from the look of things, his instinct about the Scions using the drug they had taken on their prisoners was right. They hadn¡¯t used it on all of them, from the look of things. But they had used it on a few. They had used it on his new sister.


    The rage that boiled up inside him in that moment had nowhere to go. There was no one near enough to lash out at.


    Until there was.


    A figure arrived, leaping up through the hole before blurting a sharp, ¡°Hey!¡±


    Paintball. It was Paintball. If it had been almost anyone else in that moment, Simon might have let the anger that had boiled up inside him at the sight of his little sister laying there motionless lash out. If anyone else had interrupted him right then, they would have paid for it. But this was Paintball, the only reason the Ministry had had any idea about what was going on, the person responsible for Simon being here in the first place.


    That, and only that, allowed him to keep his cool. Even then, he continued to stare at Izzy for a moment before breathing out silently. Finally, he looked over his shoulder to see Paintball standing there. Something¡­ about the boy softened his reaction. He really did feel bad about how their first couple meetings had gone. How different would the whole situation between them have been if he had just explained a bit about why they had to kill those two back at the hotel? They had threatened Cassidy. He¡¯d lost his mind a little bit, just like he had here with Izzy in danger.


    Pushing those thoughts aside, Simon addressed the helmeted figure. ¡°The Ministry thanks you for your assistance. Sincerely. This situation would have been a hell of a lot worse without you. And without your trust. It looks like the ones in there were drugged by something intended to mimic some of the effects of that bio-attack. But it¡¯s not the same thing. When the medics show up, give them this.¡±


    With that, he produced the piece of paper that Doctor Pollom had written on. ¡°There¡¯s a formula on there for a cure to help them. Get them that, and they¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Paintball took the paper. ¡°You know if I let them take Eits and Broadway, the authorities will want to charge them, even with this going on.¡±


    He didn¡¯t need to respond to that. Blackjack had arrived, distracting the boy with his own response. Simon, in turn, gave the La Casa leader a brief nod, then stepped through the doorway into the storage facility before hitting a button on his wrist. As he did so, Yellowbrick was sent a ping that would tell her to put up an immediate transport doorway as near to him as possible. It sprang into being in the same doorway he had just stepped through, turning the view of the outside corridor where Paintball and the others were into one of a void with the amber bridge.


    Giving Izzy one last brief glance, Simon stepped forward, then pinged Yellowbrick again to close the doorway behind him. That door vanished, but the one ahead, leading back to their house, remained. Crossing the bridge, Simon told himself he¡¯d done the right thing. Paintball would make sure that formula got where it needed to be. Izzy would be okay. She would be okay. This wasn¡¯t the same situation as their parents. They had the cure for her.


    Even then, he had to stop for a moment in the middle of the path to take a few breaths. Then he pushed on, emerging into daylight on the far side of his family¡¯s mansion, stepping onto one of the patios. ¡°Thanks, Yellowbrick.¡±


    His phone buzzed then, and he answered immediately. ¡°Yeah, I got the--what? No, that Jennica girl wasn¡¯t there, I wasn¡¯t--¡± He stopped, listening for a moment.


    ¡°Wait, who the hell is Echo?¡±


    **********************


    A look at the SPHERE forums reacting to the current situation with the Scions


    Welcome, MountainsOfMirth (click here to log-out) to the Summus Proelium HERE forums, or SPHERE. It has been (zero hours seventeen minutes) since your previous log-in, and there have been (0/Zero) rule clarifications or updates and (0/Zero) administrator announcements. Click here to read past updates and announcements. [][][][][][]


    <> Topic -- Avant Guard Thread Two (Boards - Places - United States - Michigan - Touched-Teams - Heroes)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on May 12th, 2020:


    Well, we hit a full thread pretty quick on that one, didn''t we? I guess people are interested in talking about this new team. Especially now that we have a name for them. Just remember to be respectful and keep it all within the rules. We don''t want to have another incident like what happened with you know who.


    Feel free to use this thread to talk about the Detroit based hero team who have started calling themselves Avant Guard. You may discuss the team itself or any of its members or exploits. But if a discussion gets too bogged down on discussing a single member, remember that they have separate threads (though partners are grouped together) which can be found here: (Paintball, Alloy, Trevithick, Style and Poise, Calvin and Hobbes)


    You can find an archive of the first discussion thread right here, and the Sphere-Wiki entry for this team is available right here.


    (Showing page 17 of 19, displaying ten posts per page)


    ---> CleverVole


    Replied on May 29th, 2020


    Ok seriously, the conspiracy theories about these guys need to stop. They aren''t working with the Scions. I know people who keep pushing that theory get their comments deleted and a warning, but seriously, you all need to knock it off. The reason this team wasn''t hit as hard as others is because they aren''t really connected to the authorities. They''re more of an independent team. So they didn''t have anyone inside the Conservators building when the attack happened. It''s as simple as that.


    They¡¯re still new so they don''t have those connections. Not officially anyway. Hell, they''re probably so new that whoever was behind this didn''t account for them when they were making up the plan. Seriously, something like this has gotta take months of planning and preparation. These guys probably weren''t even a thing when that started.


    ---> StarOfImps


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Replied on May 29th, 2020


    I''m not sure why you''re saying that as though the thread is full of those people. I''ve seen maybe two or three, and it''s not even clear whether they''re serious or trolling. Not that trolling about this sort of thing is good, but really, it''s not an actual conspiracy that people actually believe. Everyone knows they aren''t connected to those assholes. And anyone who doesn''t or pretends not to doesn''t deserve the attention you''ve given them with a full post about it. Just let the mods delete them and move on. Don''t feed the trolls.


    Anyway, to get back on topic, does anyone else think someone on that team has powers that we don''t know about yet? It seems like the only ones with definite powers we know for certain are Paintball and Alloy. And, most likely Trevithick is Tech-Touched. She¡¯s probably the one supplying tools to the others. But what about the other four? Style and Poise are obviously really strong and quick and all that, but are those powers or tech? If they¡¯re just tech-enhanced suits, why don''t Calvin and Hobbes have them? Those two move like normal people with maybe a little bit of training. They just have those guns.


    I don''t know, it just seems maybe a little weird, and it makes me think they might have other, more obvious powers that they''re holding back for an emergency. If I was on a team like that, I''d definitely keep some aces up my sleeve, know what I mean?


    ---> BrightFireOfIthax


    Replied on May 29th, 2020


    Maybe those four can all join together into a human Voltron? That''s a thing, isn''t it? I know Touched can be merged together right when they find the Orb, but maybe these guys merged and can separate whenever they want to go back to their normal selves. But when they all combine again, they become some sort of super-being. Or what if they started as one person, and their power lets them duplicate or split apart to turn into those four? Maybe that¡¯s the hidden power in Avant Guard, right in plain sight.


    --->CleverVole


    Replied on May 29th, 2020


    @StarOfImps yeah, you''re right, I know. I just don''t like seeing a new group we''re just trying to help people get dragged through the mud even if there''s only a couple losers doing it. And it doesn''t matter anyway, because those posts are completely gone now.


    @BrightFireOfIthax I like the second theory. What if they can split more than that? They could put some people out in the crowd to keep an eye on things, or have them pose as helpless prisoners during an attack to take the bad guys by surprise. That¡¯d be cool, and useful. Maybe it¡¯d even explain how they find out stuff so quick.


    --->AlmanditeSerpent


    Replied on May 29th, 2020


    If this team actually does have any powers they haven''t displayed yet, now would be a good time to bust them out. With this going on, they really can''t afford to hold back anymore. Not with so many other Star-Touched out for the count. If the Scions are taking over an entire apartment building and holding everyone hostage, they obviously aren''t afraid of repercussions. They know the authorities are weak right now. So if someone doesn''t get in there and stop them ASAP, they''re going to keep escalating. And I don¡¯t think we want to see what happens when Pencil decides there aren¡¯t any consequences and escalates.


    --->MarsSpider


    Replied on May 29th, 2020


    Oh shit. That''s bad. They really put a force field around the whole building? How¡¯d they pull that off? I thought forcefields required a lot of power, especially one that big. How are they supplying enough juice for it?


    Wait, that''s it, juice. I bet they kidnapped Juice himself and plugged him into a machine to keep this thing running. They''re using him to power it, aren''t they? Honestly I¡¯m only half-kidding, they really would do that if they could.


    But do you really think Avant Guard can stop them? Conspiracies about extra powers aside, how would they get through the force field, let alone fight all those guys including Pencil? Does Paintball have any colors that could take it down? That pink paint maybe? We know it makes things bendable, maybe it works on energy? IDK.


    --->AvoidanceLamb


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    They wouldn''t have to stop them on their own. It''s not like every other Star-Touched in the city is out of commission. They¡¯ve still got plenty of heroes out there. And with something like this, they''ll all work together. Even some of the Fells, honestly. The Scions don¡¯t exactly have a lot of friends out there.


    Honestly, I think Pencil might have gotten a little arrogant and overstepped. Hopefully he stepped too far this time and these people can actually take him down before he manages to worm his way out of it. Can you imagine how much better this whole place would be if he and all his people ended up on Breakwater? Imagine if Silversmith and the rest wake up and find out the people they left taking care of Detroit put those evil fucks away for good.


    I don''t know, it''s just wishful thinking and that whole situation is pretty bad right now, but I''m trying to be positive. The Scions are all right there for the taking. Obviously, there''s something big going on or they wouldn''t have announced themselves and painted a huge target on their backs. They¡¯re either stupid or desperate. I just hope it means this is their last stand.


    Oh, and good luck to everyone trapped in that building with them. My thoughts are with you. Whatever happens, I hope you all make it through this. While we¡¯re on the subject, if anyone wants to donate to the relief fund for attacks like this, the link is here.


    --->EnemyOfTheGoose


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    D - Oh no. We just woke up to this. It¡¯s right down the street from our apartment, and there¡¯s cops everywhere. The whole neighborhood is swarming with them. You can see the forcefield from our balcony, and there¡¯s like four helicopters all flying over with spotlights.


    K - Those poor people! We know some of the ones who live there. They¡¯ve gotta make it out of this. Avant Guard, if you can do something, please help them! We¡¯re all rooting for you!


    --->MostAmazingFinalGuiderOfCults


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Are you serious? You really live right down the street? I didn''t know, maybe you guys should get out of there. Who knows how much this thing is going to blow up before it''s all over. If I was you all, I''d be packing up and going to find a hotel on the opposite side of the city. Or maybe stay with a friend? Either way, be safe and don''t stick around just so you can see what goes down. We¡¯ll get plenty of footage on the news from people who are paid and trained to take those kinds of risks. No one needs you to stay within spitting distance of Pencil and his band of assholes.


    --->OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Culty¡¯s right, @EnemyOfTheGoose keep yourself safe and get out there if you have the chance to. Definitely not worth the risk of sticking around, and with those guys making such a target out of themselves, I don''t think any other gang is going to risk making trouble. Nobody wants to be the gang who took advantage of a Scions distraction. That''s a good way to get everyone in the city on both sides teaming up on you. So you should be safe to get out and head for someplace else, any place else.


    But uh, I think we¡¯ve gone a little off topic, though I¡¯m not a moderator or anything. Maybe we should try to focus a bit. More general discussion about that whole thing is still going on in this thread that @Almandite linked to before. As for Avant Guard, I think they were already on-scene, right? Maybe there¡¯s a plan brewing already.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 17, 18, 19


    [][][][][][]


    <> Topic ¡ª Scions Thread Fifty-Two (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Villains)


    Razoev (Administrator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on May 1st, 2020:


    OK, so here''s our monthly restart of the Scions thread. Same rules as always. Keep your language within reason, no going off on elaborate fantasy revenge scenarios no matter how bad these people are, and absolutely no praising the evil psychopaths. There''s already a general rule not to praise Fell-Touched too much, but it applies quintuple here, or even more. I know some of you think you¡¯re very funny or edgy, but the staff will be watching this thread very closely, and anyone who even pretends to like these people or *shudder* have a crush on any of them will get an instant IP ban, no warnings and no questions asked. This isn''t the place for that garbage, so don¡¯t test us.


    On the other hand, if you have been personally affected by their actions and need mental or emotional help, you should follow one of these links here, here, or here. There are phone numbers you can call on each of those pages to find someone who can help.


    Other than that, just use common sense, people. We¡¯d rather you not make us wear out the ban hammer, but I promise, we''re not afraid to buy new ones if need be.


    (Showing page 34 of 35, displaying ten posts per page)


    --->SpeakerOfFables


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Well this was a good time for the Scions to pull something like this, isn''t it? Right at the end of the month. What if they''ve done too far this time and the next monthly thread gets to start by detailing how they were all arrested? I know, we shouldn¡¯t get our hopes up. But seriously, it would fit almost disturbingly well. If I didn''t know any better, I''d say it was planned like that.


    Yeah, yeah, I''m not trying to be a conspiracy theorist or a troll. I''m just saying, it would be nice if the next thread could be a celebration because all those people end up being taken off the streets. And honestly, would it surprise anyone to find out that Pencil reads these threads and times stuff like this to intentionally happen right when it''s about to roll over to a new one?


    --->Mach3


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    I don''t think you have to worry about this thread being closed in favor of a new one. The mods said they wouldn''t be making any fresh threads for any team involved in this whole situation until it''s resolved, and that obviously includes the Scions. That way everything stays in one place. Or, you know, one place for each team at least. The point is, they''re not going to spread posts about Pencil and his assholes across multiple threads right now. So hey, maybe you''re right and the next thread can be all about how they were brought down for good. It just seems like this time Pencil went too far. I think he got cocky and thought he could pull off something big just because the Stars are a bit short-staffed. But they''re not gone completely, and I think he''s about to feel the hammer.


    That metaphor would obviously work better if he wasn''t obviously completely immune to hammers, but you get what I mean.


    --->Flaboran


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Hey, let''s not forget, he might call himself Pencil, but we all know his real name. Nick Sanvers. Just call him Nick Sanvers. And Cup is Amanda Sanvers. Seriously they don''t follow any of the Touched rules of engagement, so I don''t think they should be protected by any of those guidelines either. All they do is kill people. They want to destroy the whole city and tear down civilization with them. They worship one of the Abyssals for God¡¯s sake. Don''t let them keep an air of mystery or intrigue. His name is Nick, he went to Northride High School and had a B average. He was in Choir and Drama club. One of the people who had Chemistry with him in 10th grade said he had a crush on the teacher and kept tripping over his words whenever she called on him.


    Stop treating or talking about these people like they¡¯re special. They¡¯re not. He¡¯s not. He¡¯s just a guy with powers and no morals. He wants you to talk about him as Pencil, as some sort of demigod. He¡¯s just Nick Sanvers, a loser who is about to end up stuck in Breakwater. And that''s if he''s lucky. I won''t say any more than that. Don''t want to trip over the rules. But I think this is going to be the last time he gets to pretend to be some untouchable force of nature. That little reputation was already damaged thanks to Paintball outing the dude¡¯s real identity. Maybe now he and the rest of Avant Guard can finish the job.


    --->XLD


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Dude, be careful. I know IP addresses and everything are masked on this board, but you never know if you said enough in any other threads, or even other places online, to let Pencil or one of his sympathizers track you down. Now probably isn''t a good time to make a big target out of yourself. They''re obviously lashing out and looking for people to make examples out of. Remember, they''re not all up in that building. They¡¯ve still got those wannabes out there, and probably others who are already part of their little cult.


    Just watch yourself. People can find out a lot about you really easily. It''s honestly scary. Let''s hold off on directly insulting those assholes until we''re sure the whole situation is under control. Because right now it seems like that might take a while.


    --->BloodsuckingSector


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Oh shit, did you guys see this? If Cup (Sorry, Flaboran - Amanda) is really sick and it''s not some sort of trick, what does that mean? Was she in the building when the attack happened? Maybe she was in disguise or something? But they have a lot of security all over that place. They have to. So you¡¯d think it would be hard for someone like her to sneak in without being caught. She¡¯s gotta be one of the most recognizable people in the whole city right now. And if she wasn''t in the building when it happened, does that mean the disease already started spreading? What if other people start dropping? Hell, the Scions just exposed everyone in that apartment building to it. Who knows how many they infected before they even got in there? This could be even worse than we thought.


    --->FullBass


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    !!!!


    If Amanda-Cup is really sick like the people in the Conservators building, no wonder Pencil went all out like this. Isn¡¯t she like the one person he¡¯s ever shown that he cares about? She¡¯s his sister and all that. That would explain why he''d trap himself inside that forcefield and threaten to kill all those people, wouldn¡¯t it? I know he lies all the time, but it fits, and the way he looked in that video¡­ It seemed pretty real. He looked like he was freaking out pretty bad.


    Just hypothetically, if he gave up and turned himself in in exchange for a cure for his sister once they find it, and leniency for her so she doesn¡¯t have to go to Breakwater, do you think the authorities would go for that? I know there''s basically a zero point zero zero zero zero zero two percent chance he''d ever do that, but just in case he reads this and nothing else ends up working. You like your sister, Nick-Pencil? If you really want to save her, maybe you should do the right thing for once in your life and just make a deal. Do it publicly so the whole world knows you made a deal so the authorities have to stick to it. But I think the only way they¡¯d agree to it is if you don¡¯t kill anyone else. It¡¯s the best way to help your sister.


    --->MountainsOfMirth (You)


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    He''s never going to turn himself in or make any kind of deal. Not in a billion years. He''s too arrogant and self-centered for that. Even if he is actually worried about his sister he''ll just think he can save her his own way until the very last second. Until past the last second. There''s not a chance in hell that he would never surrender himself for any reason. Not unless he had some sort of plan to destroy civilization by getting on Breakwater and somehow breaking the entire population of that place out to be set loose on the world. Actually, now that I say that out loud, it does sound like something he''d do if he could. So maybe the authorities should watch out for that. After all, it¡¯s not like Breakwater is completely trustworthy by themselves anymore. Look at what started this whole thing. The only reason so many of the people who are supposed to be keeping this gang violence under control are out of commission is because Breakwater kept secrets for so long. If they had just been honest from the start and helped get those people off the island, maybe none of this would''ve happened.


    So, you know, let''s not start thinking that putting the Scions over there would instantly solve everything. I don¡¯t think Flea and Trivial would want us to keep putting all our fruit in that basket. Even if it is incredibly rotten, poisonous fruit that should never go anywhere near anyone¡¯s mouth.


    --->DancingInIt


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    I think Mirth is right. If Nick Sanvers ever even pretended to surrender, it would be a trap. He absolutely wouldn¡¯t stick to any deal he made. When the Stars and Shields stop him, it''s going to be completely against his will. And we all know how slippery he is. I don''t know why people are talking as though he''s actually trapped in that building. He''s got all those teleportation devices. We''ve all seen the videos of him using implanted Touched-Tech to get away even when it looks like he''s been cornered. So even if that forcefield stops him from teleporting out while it''s active as much as it stops other people from teleporting in, all he has to do is turn it off and then instantly get out of there before anyone can react. He¡¯s no more trapped in that place than any other, not while he¡¯s in control of the shield.


    Maybe since they know where he is, the good guys can take him by surprise before he can do that. But they¡¯d have to find a way through the shield first. Or take control of it somehow. Whatever they do, I think it¡¯s safe to assume Nick has at least a dozen escape plans. He wouldn¡¯t put himself in this situation if he didn¡¯t have plenty of ways out, no matter how worried he is about his sister.


    --->AProtectionRacket


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    M - Hey that¡¯s a good point, Dancing. Of course he''d have his own way out of that place. Actually, what if it''s tied to the forcefield itself? I mean, what if the moment the force field goes down, he instantly teleports out of there. If I was him, that''s what I''d do.


    0 - I¡¯m sure the authorities have taken that into consideration. Obviously what really matters is saving the people inside that building, but it would sure be nice if they managed to catch him after all. We¡¯d all like to see his perp walk and mugshot.


    --->MercurialGumball


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    You''re right, the only thing that really matters is getting the people in the building out safely. I don''t care what kind of deal they have to make with the Scions. Give them the cure as soon as they have one, promise to take his sister and help her, hell, set them up on their own private island with a promise to leave them alone if that''s what it takes. Just convince him to let those people go. And that if he doesn¡¯t let them go, he¡¯ll never get what he wants. Everyone who says he actually cares about his sister is right. She¡¯s the only weakness he has. And right now, I think she really is sick. So use that to make sure everyone in that building stays safe.


    Pencil, if you do read this, you¡¯re smart enough to know how it works. This whole thing is too public right now. Everyone knows who you are and who your sister is. They know she¡¯s sick. If you promise to let the people in that place go safely, they¡¯ll take care of her just like they¡¯re taking care of all those other people. You can make a deal. This is your absolute best chance to take care of her. You want your sister to be safe? Then don¡¯t do anything to give the cops any reason to go all-out.


    Edit: Okay this is the fourth time I¡¯ve edited this post to try to say the right thing, so I¡¯m just gonna leave it like that. You guys get what I mean.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 33, 34, 35


    [][][][][][]


    <> Topic -- Scions Take Over Apartment Building (Boards - Places - United States - Michigan - Events)


    Constructicon (Original Poster)


    Posted on May 29th, 2020:


    It has been officially confirmed through several sources that the Scions have taken over an apartment building in Southwest Detroit (see a map of the affected area and the evacuation details here) and surrounded it with a seemingly impregnable forcefield. Current details are somewhat scarce, but we know that there are innocent civilians within the building who are being held prisoner, and thus far no one has been able to break through the shield. You can see ongoing news reports here and here, and keep up with the live thread right here. Remember, live threads can only be posted to a few authorized users, so if you only want to see details without any extra hypothesizing, use the Watch function on that thread.


    (Showing page 46 of 46, displaying ten posts per page)


    --->PalaceHearth


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    H - All I know is that whatever happens, the Scions can''t be allowed to walk away from this one. You saw what he said in that message. They have murderer-candidates all over the city who want to kill hundreds of people every day that they don''t get what they want. Don''t they think if there really was a cure to this thing, half the Star-Touched in the city wouldn¡¯t be lying in hospital beds?


    A - They won''t walk away from it. Pencil has gone too far this time. Whether he''s just that arrogant or desperate because his sister is really sick, he absolutely overstepped. Making those threats, revealing their ¡®candidates¡¯ and what he¡¯s told them to do, it¡¯s too far. I think if this goes on any longer, they¡¯ll actually call in Armistice to put a stop to it.


    --->Berryonalake


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Can they call in Armistice? What if this Sleeptalk stuff really does spread? Can you imagine how bad everything would be if the whole Armistice team ends up infected and in a coma? I wouldn''t be surprised if they refuse to let any of those people in here no matter what happens. They¡¯d probably write this whole city off completely before they¡¯d risk something like that.


    --->MountainsOfMirth (You)


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    We don¡¯t need Armistice, or anyone else. What we need is to stop treating the Scions like they¡¯re special. Nick might be hard to hurt, but he¡¯s not hard to drive off. He has no powers other than his ¡®invulnerability.¡¯ He can¡¯t shoot lasers and he¡¯s not super strong. If enough people just stopped cowering and started fighting back every time he showed up, the arrogant motherfucker wouldn¡¯t have a chance to do anything but retreat. He¡¯s a slippery piece of shit, but I swear half the reason he gets away with everything he does is because people are too afraid of his reputation to fight back as hard as they should. Especially now that everyone knows who he really is. He¡¯s not a god, not a demon, not a monster. He¡¯s just a GUY. So treat him like one. Every time he pokes his head up, there should be fifteen people pointing guns at the motherfucker!


    --->JustAnotherBook


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Okay sure, he doesn¡¯t have laser eyes. But that doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯s not dangerous. Guns can be just as deadly as powers, as you noted in the very end of your post. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to encourage civilians to make targets out of themselves like that. I mean, sure, if they¡¯re put in a situation where it¡¯s fight or die, absolutely fight. Don¡¯t just cower. But your post seems to be pushing people to go hunting the Scions, and that¡¯s going to end badly.


    --->MountainsOfMirth (You)


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Yeah yeah, I¡¯m just saying, he¡¯s made it clear that he won¡¯t hold back. So if he shows himself again, everyone who can beat the c-sucker down should team up to do that. He won¡¯t negotiate, he won¡¯t play nice. If you see him, it¡¯s because he wants to kill you or the people you care about. So don¡¯t give him the chance.


    --->GujaratiSugar


    Replied on May 30th, 2020


    Pretty sure this is all irrelevant anyway. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s getting out of that apartment building alive. This has all the makings of a ¡®last stand¡¯ sort of situation. Note for mods: I¡¯m not advocating his death, just saying that it seems like one of those things where Pencil isn¡¯t going to surrender and won¡¯t leave. I don¡¯t see them finding a cure for this Sleeptalk stuff anytime soon, and he¡¯s never going to agree to let them take Cup. I think he¡¯s going down by the time this is over, and I just hope he doesn¡¯t take everyone in that building with him.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 44, 45, 46


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    <> Private Messages From Marconi''s S


    Marconi''s S: I think you¡¯ve got the right idea about everyone banding together to deal with the Scions once and for all. Depending on the Stars and Shields to do it isn¡¯t gonna work out. I might have a suggestion for you if you have any actual firearms training and aren¡¯t afraid to get your hands dirty.


    MountainsOfMirth: How do I know you¡¯re not a plant? Either one of the Shields themselves, or a Scion wannabe.


    Marconi¡¯s S: If we met in person you¡¯d know for sure in about two seconds. Let¡¯s just say you¡¯d recognize me and I am not one of the Scions. Trying to stop someone I care about from turning into one of them, actually. No matter what that takes.


    MountainsOfMirth: I might be interested, depending on if you¡¯ve got an actual plan. And I might have others who could contribute.


    MountainsOfMirth: Yo, you went offline all of a sudden, is everything okay?


    MountainsOfMirth: Gonna regret this, but Broadway? Answer your phone.


    MountainsOfMirth: Okay I know you¡¯re still recovering, assuming that cure worked, but in case no one else tells you, look here and use the PW na4RN01-Qb to find out what happened between your sister and Echo.

 Interlude 28C - Deicide And Skip

    A staggering amount of thoughts went stampeding through Austen¡¯s mind in those brief moments after Skip called her by her Touched name. But while she was mentally reeling, the other girl had already grabbed her wrist and was pulling her away from that spot. At first, Austen reflexively tried to pull away from the Star-Touched. But Skip was insistent and dragged her away from there. Fortunately, it only took Austen a second to catch herself and realize the girl wasn''t trying to arrest her or anything stupid like that. She was getting both of them away from that spot before the bastard with the debilitating powers came back.


    So, Austen stopped pulling away and started moving with Skip. After, of course, summoning all the paper from her pad. She considered having it hover around her threateningly, but stowed it instead. Her identity might have been exposed to Skip, and possibly to the man who was trying to kill them, but that didn''t mean that absolutely everyone who saw them had to know about it. There might still be a way to salvage this.


    The two of them moved back the way they had come, passing through the twisted wormholes that led to the restroom of the other shop and then into the caf¨¦. From there they returned to the top floor of the clothing store, retracing their steps.


    Once they were in that spot, the two girls moved to a corner of the room. They were partially hidden by all the racks of shirts and pants, at least enough to have a fighting chance if their new friend or his armed buddies showed up. Not that either of them verbally exchanged any thoughts about this, or about anything else while they were moving back the way they had come and positioning themselves. They simply did it without talking. Which gave Austen more time to think.


    Skip knew her identity, an identity that absolutely no one other than Austen herself had been aware of for all this time. She had successfully kept her Touched identity, or even the fact that Deicide was actually a young teenager rather than an adult, completely secret for so long. Even the Ministry didn¡¯t know who she really was. And now it had been blown right in front of one of the most important Star-Touched in the city. At least as far as keeping that information secret went. Skip¡¯s sister was the leader of the local Ten Towers team. There was no way she wouldn¡¯t tell the woman what she had discovered. That secret was too valuable.


    There had to be something Austen could do to keep that secret. But the only thing that came to mind was to kill the girl in front of her. And that was something she dismissed as quickly as the thought came. Even if it had been possible and she could actually affect the girl who could make herself immune to anything she thought about (and being cut by Deicide¡¯s paper was definitely something she could think about), she just¡­ wouldn¡¯t. If she had been okay with Skip dying, she would¡¯ve simply let that asshole do it in the first place without exposing herself. She could have let the Star-Touched die, then killed the would-be Scion and kept her secret completely intact.


    Why didn¡¯t she do that? Why hadn¡¯t she simply allowed Skip to die and--no, she wasn¡¯t going to think along those lines. There wasn¡¯t time, and it would just spin her around in more circles than she couldn¡¯t possibly hope to get through. The fact was, she had made her choice. She¡¯d stepped in, exposed her identity, and saved Skip. She wasn¡¯t going to backtrack on that now and try to kill the very same girl. No matter how confusing it was, no matter how complicated it made things, she¡¯d made the decision.


    Now she just had to figure out how to actually move forward with that.


    If Skip had any emotions about what she had just discovered, she didn''t betray that fact. Her voice remained as flat as ever as she simply met the other girl¡¯s gaze. ¡°We deal with this situation and stop the explosive man. Then we talk.¡±


    Right, of course. The man himself was still a problem. Austen didn''t even know whether he''d figured out that she was Deicide or not. After all, it wasn''t as though he''d gotten a good look at what was flying at his face and cutting him before he dove through his wormhole thing. And he didn''t know whether it had come from her or not. He''d been so focused on taunting Skip, he''d practically seemed to forget anyone else was there. The man very well might not have figured out her secret the way this girl had.


    Or maybe he did, which made him a threat all of his own. And unlike Skip, that was a threat that Austen didn''t feel at all conflicted about ending. As a matter of fact, she didn¡¯t even care whether he knew her identity or not. The man wasn¡¯t walking away from this.


    All of that played through her mind in an instant before she gave a short nod. ¡°Fine.¡±


    Some people might have doubted her sincerity, especially when it came in that single word with no elaboration or promise. But Skip seemed to take it as gospel and simply looked across the room toward the spot they had passed through to get into this area. ¡°I made myself immune to his power, at least to the best of my knowledge. We shall see if it works.¡± There was the slightest betrayal of emotion there. She had nearly died a minute earlier, would have died if Austen hadn''t stepped in. They both knew that. Life and death situations were pretty normal in that line of work, of course. Especially for a group like Ten Towers. But Skip herself probably hadn''t personally been through it that often. After all, she could make herself immune to anything she was aware of. Whenever she put herself in danger, it was after she knew what was going on and could use her power to protect herself.


    Even as Austen had that thought, however, Skip quietly spoke. ¡°I have nearly died before. Being immune to what I am aware of doesn''t always help when it comes to Touched Tech or powers. This isn''t unheard of.¡± She paused before adding, ¡°But it is rare.¡±


    Clearing her throat pointedly, Austen stared at the other girl. ¡°Did you just read my mind?¡±


    She couldn''t see the lower half of the girl¡¯s face through that dark mask. But she was pretty sure there was a hint of amusement despite their situation playing through her eyes. It was faint and you had to look deep to see it, but it was there. ¡°No, I don''t have that power. But it''s not that hard to guess what you would be thinking, especially when you kept looking at me. You''re also afraid that I''m going to tell the rest of my people your secret.¡±


    Austen stared right back at her, starting to bluntly ask if she was or not, despite their agreement to talk about it after this was over. But before she could get the words out, they both heard someone coming. It wasn''t the Touched man himself in that case. Instead, it was a man with a shotgun who quickly made his way through the room, his gaze flicking around as he walked in a way that made it clear he didn''t know they were there. And also made it clear he was pretty terrible at searching rooms. Definitely no real training. If he had been one of her people, Austen would have made him regret ever getting up that morning.


    Oh wait, she could still make him regret that. While he was sweeping the shotgun over the opposite side of the room from where they were, she sent a flurry of flying paper that way. The man twisted and fired a shot at the loudly fluttering ball. But his shotgun did little to her empowered paper. And absolutely nothing to the several extra sheets she had secretly sent in much more quietly to cut his weapon in half. He was still blinking down at the destroyed pieces of his gun when Skip launched herself that way and planted her fist in his face. As he stumbled, she caught his arm and flung him forward past herself while stepping aside. At the same time, her leg snapped out to trip the man.


    Austen was already right there. Some of her papers covered her face just in case, while others went over her fist to reinforce it as she lashed out. The man went stumbling right into her swinging paper-empowered fist.


    Just like that, he went down and stayed there. The two of them stood over his unconscious and unmoving form for a moment before Skip produced a set of zip ties and secured him. Then she looked up at the other girl. ¡°That''s one of them taken care of.¡±


    ¡°But not the most important one,¡± Austen pointed out. ¡°And they still have a bunch of hostages. That seems like something you would be concerned with.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± Skip confirmed before adding a flat, ¡°Are you?¡±


    There was a lot behind that question. Austen let it pass over her before replying in a voice that was flat as Skip¡¯s own. ¡°I¡¯m willing to help you save them if it means getting to that guy.¡±


    After a brief pause, the Ten Towers Touched inclined her head. ¡°Acceptable.


    ¡°We need to plan.¡±


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ******


    In the center of the outdoor mall¡¯s main courtyard, every customer and employee that the would-be Scion and the armed thugs assisting him had been able to gather together were huddled in a large group. This was the main food court, but all the tables and chairs had been tossed aside to leave an empty floor so the guards could better keep their eyes on the two hundred or so hostages and know if they tried anything. Or if anyone new tried to slip in amongst them. Worse, from any potential rescuer¡¯s point of view, was the fact that every fifth hostage was wearing a bomb vest. The slightest provocation could end in the center of that courtyard becoming a crater full of nothing but splattered human remains.


    There were twelve masked Prev thugs, all of them spread equal distance around the central area where the hostages were. They each had their guns at the ready, and a barrier of overturned tables and chairs both in front and behind them to duck behind if they needed to. Their eyes scanned the mall around them, watching for any disturbance, including an area in the corner where several television monitors had been hastily erected to show the parking lot all around the mall. There were police cars out there, but not nearly as many as there would be if the city hadn''t been going through so many problems. And the few who were there didn¡¯t dare come past the edge of the mall grounds, not when they knew there were hostages and an unknown Fell-Touched in there. They didn¡¯t have the manpower for that sort of situation. Not yet, anyway. And changing that would probably take quite awhile. The resources of every law-enforcement and Star-Touched group in the city were stretched thin, though they weren¡¯t completely broken. Eventually, enough of them would pull themselves free of what they were busy with to form a group that could force their way into the mall. One Fell-Touched and a dozen Prevs weren¡¯t enough to stop that, even with hostages. They had to have other plans.


    But, of course, for now, the psychos didn''t have to think about that. They had a couple Touched right inside the mall to worry about. Which the man in charge of this whole endeavor had made clear as he walked in a circle around his assembled troops, still wearing his black body armor and black hard-shell helmet. His face was hidden behind that helmet aside from his eyes, but the anger in his voice was apparent as he loudly demanded to know where several more of his people who had silently disappeared were. When he received nothing but shrugs, the man sent twin blasts of his power at two of the men. They crumpled, grabbing their heads as the warbling effect pounded into them. It wouldn¡¯t do lasting damage, but it got his point across. As did his added, ¡°Buddy system! Keep your eyes on each other! If that Towers twat or whoever the fuck was with her poke their heads out of wherever they¡¯re holed up, I wanna know about it! For fuck¡¯s sake, you think we¡¯re gonna impress Pencil like this? Get it together, bastards! We¡¯ve got a job to do, so let¡¯s do it, huh? We¡¯ve got a statement to make!¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± The somewhat disembodied, echoey female voice came from a spot above the assembled people, as a white-clad figure began to walk down a set of glowing white squares that appeared in front of her feet with each step. Paper. The figure was armored in paper, and the squares she was stepping on were paper as well. A dozen books hovered around the figure, circling her while their pages flipped back and forth. The voice seemed to be projected from the books themselves as the words on the pages being flipped to were vocalized one at a time to create new sentences. ¡°And what statement are you trying to make? That you¡¯re all tired of living? Because you didn¡¯t have to take civilian hostages in my territory to illustrate that. Jumping off a bridge would have done the trick and saved everyone a lot of time.¡±


    ¡°Deicide, it was you who jumped in back there after all.¡± The Fell-Touched man glared that way, raising his hands, though he didn¡¯t use his power just yet. ¡°Where were you hiding, huh? Couldn¡¯t even take the time to introduce yourself? I mean seriously, how rude. The name¡¯s Tractor. Nice to meet you. See, how easy was that, huh?¡±


    The man, Tractor, made a soft chuckling sound at the back of his throat that sounded like a blender trying to grind something too thick. ¡°And what made you step in to save some Star bitch you shouldn¡¯t give two shits about and the nobody kid she was running around with? Just gotta ruin everyone else¡¯s fun?¡± Even as those words left his mouth, the man abruptly sent a blast of warbling air from both hands. The blasts struck the paper armor, but seemed to do nothing. There was no reaction from the figure. It seemed that whatever energy she enveloped the paper and books in that protected them from being damaged by bullets or other attacks stopped his power from turning the material explosive as well. Nor did she react to what should have been a crippling wave of nausea and internal pain.


    Once he saw that wasn''t working, Tractor halted his attack and stared up at the figure who was still standing on a couple pieces of hovering paper, right out in the open. ¡°What, nothing? Not even a little woozy? Are you even a real person in there? Hey don¡¯t tell me the rumor about you being a Touched book is actually true. Wait, no, I got it. You¡¯re a Touched bookstore aren¡¯t you? There¡¯s one around here, should we burn it down? Would that finally kill you? Or since you insisted on butting in here, maybe we should just--¡± He held a small pen-shaped remote up in one hand and made a satisfied sound while viciously shoving his thumb down on the button. As he did so, a collective scream went up from the hostages nearby.


    And yet, other than those screams, nothing happened.


    He tried again a couple times, his gaze snapping toward the people there with the bomb vests. ¡°What th--¡± Then he saw it. Several wires on each vest had been cut, clearly before Deicide had even shown herself. A handful of tiny paper squares, too small for his people to notice, hovered in the air over the crowd.


    ¡°How the fuck would you know what wires to cut?!¡± the man demanded, voice rising a bit. ¡°There were like ten fucking booby trapped ones and I¡¯m the only one with the fucking diagram!¡± Just to check, he yanked the piece of folded notebook paper from his pocket and stared at it. Sure enough, his notes about which wires would disable the bombs were intact. He clutched the paper in one hand while glaring up at her. ¡°You know what? Fuck it, shoot those cocksuckers!¡±


    His people tried, they really did. However, as they raised their weapons to take aim and fire right into the newly-panicked crowd, each man found a very important piece of their gun missing. Those tiny pieces of paper hadn¡¯t simply cut the wires from those bomb vests and left it at that. They had also carefully cut away the triggers on every gun, leaving the men unable to actually pull anything in order to make the gun fire.


    By that point, the paper-armored figure had stepped down off the last of her hovering squares, standing directly in front of the would-be Scion. The books flipped from page to page as her voice to address the gathered troops. ¡°You are in my territory. Usually, I¡¯d simply kill you for that. But in the interest of not traumatizing my citizens even further, I will give you one opportunity to surrend--¡±


    Before the last word had even finished being uttered, the rest of the troops threw down their useless weapons and fell to their knees with their hands behind their heads.


    ¡°Oh, you useless fucks!¡± Tractor ripped a small plastic ball from his pocket and held it between himself and Deicide. ¡°Oh you¡¯re in there after all. I see those eyes, right there.¡± He laughed while using two fingers to point at the visible eye holes that had formed in the paper armor, allowing him to see the very human pupils staring silently at him. ¡°See, there¡¯s your mistake. Cuz if you¡¯ve got eye holes, it means other stuff can get in. Stuff like--this!¡± With that, he used his power on the ball, making it blow apart in his hand even as he gave it a toss that way. As he¡¯d noted when he was gloating over Skip before, when his power was used on objects, it made them explode in various ways depending on the material itself. In this case, the plastic ball blew apart into a cloud of incredibly noxious poison gas.


    And yet, again the gas seemed to do nothing. Even Tractor, several feet away, was coughing and reeling from the potency of the nearby gas. Despite that, however, he was still eagerly staring through the cloud at what he expected to be a crumpled figure. If the gas affected him so much, anyone who was in the middle of it would be¡­ would be¡­


    The figure stood there, utterly unaffected. And as his mouth fell open in confusion, the paper armor broke apart, all the pieces scattering off like a flock of startled birds. Which revealed a very different, somewhat smaller girl within, who dropped to the ground and stepped forward through the gas to move right in front of the startled man as soon as the armor holding her up pulled away.


    ¡°Surprise,¡± Skip announced tonelessly, before snapping a pair of stay-down cuffs onto his wrists.


    ¡°Oh, you think these can hold me?!¡± Tractor sounded hysterical in that moment, already starting to point his fingers inward to use his power on the cuffs. But before he could, several sheets of paper abruptly wrapped around his hands to function as mittens. The warbling beam of his power couldn¡¯t escape to hit the metal.


    While the man ranted about how much they¡¯d both regret pissing him off, Skip first ordered one of his own people to disable the cell jammer they had set up, then used her phone to inform the cops outside that it was safe to come in. Before long, Tractor and all of his people had been taken away, and the hostages were being interviewed.


    Skip, however, vanished as soon as it was under control. She reappeared in the upper floor of one of the nearby shops, where Austen had been watching through a window the whole time.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Skip addressed the other girl. ¡°They are safe now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Austen agreed. ¡°And after everyone saw all that, if he does figure out that Deicide was the teen girl who was with you, everyone will just think he¡¯s getting confused about you being inside the armor. That was a good way to stop that little problem. Not the best way, but good.¡± She went quiet then before looking that way. ¡°So what now?¡±


    Watching the authorities debriefing and helping the former hostages below, Skip replied, ¡°You helped save those people, and you agreed not to kill anyone. I will keep your secret. That was our deal. So you may leave in peace. Unless¡­¡±


    ¡°Unless?¡± Austen squinted that way suspiciously. ¡°If you¡¯re about to try to extort--¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Skip interrupted. ¡°This is not an extortion.


    ¡°It¡¯s an offer.¡±

 Interlude 28D - What Happened To Jennica

    Jennica was giddy. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. Well, maybe not the plan that the other would-be members of the freshman class of Scions thought they were all following. But then, they were short sighted idiots. Why would she work with them as anything other than a means to an end? Her entire goal, from the very start, had always been to get everything she wanted and never have to rely on anyone who could disappoint her. Depending on a bunch of psychotic murderers who would eagerly stab their own mothers in the throat if they thought it was funny for a second would have been the dumbest way imaginable to go about that. And Jennica was a lot of things, but dumb wasn''t one of them. She¡¯d had plans this entire time.


    One of those plans was to get rid of her competition in this little game. Tractor wouldn''t be an issue. He was an idiot who had clearly overextended by trying to play with the big boys instead of being a minion where his impressive power could''ve helped him without his stupidity getting in the way. The best way to get rid of him had been to whisper a few things in his ear about how he could impress Pencil. Or rather, allow him to ¡®overhear¡¯ murmurs about what she was going to do and allow him to bully her into giving up the plan and letting him take it. He had ¡®forced¡¯ her to give him the details about where she had been planning to strike deep in Deicide¡¯s territory. Under ¡®duress,¡¯ she had even surrendered the crate full of bomb vests she had picked up. Of course, she¡¯d made certain he took the paper with the bomb defusal details with him, ¡®just in case.¡¯ A paper which Deicide would obviously sense and be able to tug out of his pocket so she could read it and see what was on there. If she couldn¡¯t just read it anyway without all that. The fact that those books that hovered around her constantly spoke for her by flipping to the exact right page made it seem like she probably had some ability to instantly read things around her. But either way, she¡¯d deal with it. And once she did, Tractor would be going away so he wouldn¡¯t be an issue anymore.


    That, of course, left the rest of this little group. They weren''t quite as stupid as Tractor, but it still wasn''t hard to set them up for failure. When she had seen those two unknown Touched following them to the storage facility, Jennica had made certain not to let anyone else notice the pair. Ensuring those two were able to see where they were so they could go get help, she¡¯d watched which way they went before taking the time to set up several of her blue stones across the buildings in that general area.


    For the longest time, she¡¯d had no idea what the blue stones even did. But recently, Jennica had discovered that they allowed her to see through any inanimate object like a camera. All she had to do was attach one blue gem to an object, then look into another blue gem and she would see anything from the vantage point of that first gem. She could also set it to alert her when there was motion or some specific image came into view. In that case, she¡¯d set it to alert her when either or both of those two she had seen trailing them came into view. The gems had a view of not only the streets surrounding the storage facility, but the rooftops as well.


    With that system in place, Jennica had had plenty of warning when those two had approached the place with Paintball in tow. And boy was that interesting. That group had been expanding recently, so were those two part of it? Wait, were they actually Calvin and Hobbes? They weren''t wearing the same suits, but maybe they have been upgraded or something, and the general body types fit. Were the powers she¡¯d seen them use a product of those suits? Honestly, she had no idea, and it didn''t really matter. The point was that they were coming, which meant it was time for her to leave. She¡¯d already made an excuse about needing to take care of something important, so it wasn''t hard to slip away. It wasn¡¯t like this group of idiots were expecting trouble so soon. And as soon as she was safely out of the line of fire, she released the stones she¡¯d put on those prisoners. Let the morons who thought she was on their side deal with the incoming Paintball and all the trouble he tended to bring along with him. Soon, like Tractor, none of them would be a problem anymore.


    With that out of the way, she would be the only remaining candidate for Pencil to bring into his group. And considering he would''ve lost Box in the same move, he¡¯d obviously need new blood even more. Between that and the fact that Cup was out of commission, Jennica would waltz right into his circle of trust.


    Oh yes, Cup. Poor, poor Cup. It really was tragic that she¡¯d managed to get herself infected by the prototype biological agent they¡¯d been investigating. Too bad the seal on that vial had been broken while she was examining it, and the detector that should have warned her about that had malfunctioned. Neither of which, obviously, had anything to do with the red stone Jennica had used to puppet the man responsible for checking over those very things. It was just a total accident, clearly.


    Cup was sick, ensuring that Pencil was completely beside himself and not thinking nearly as clearly as he would have otherwise. One of his own trusted people was about to be arrested, along with the rest of the candidates who could have helped him. Jennica would be his only choice to bring in on things. Which was obviously going to be even more important now that there was some cunt out there who could actually hurt him.


    That part Jennica hadn¡¯t counted on in this whole ¡®get herself into the Scions without any real competition¡¯ plan. But she also wasn¡¯t going to object. It was a happy coincidence, another thing that distracted Pencil and made him even less likely to see the threat coming at him. The threat named Jennica. Or Trove, as she called herself.


    Yes, the truth was that Jennica had no intention of really joining the Scions. Not for long, anyway. Her entire goal, from the start, had always been to make a comfortable, perfect life for herself. From the time she had been born, no one had ever wanted her. She was cast from foster home to foster home, treated like a mistake, and generally ignored at the very best. From the time she¡¯d first Touched and gained her powers, Jennica had painstakingly plotted out a way of ensuring she would never want for anything again, and would never depend on anyone again. She wasn¡¯t going to be a Star-Touched. Why would she? People hadn¡¯t helped her, so why should she risk her life to go out and fight supervillains just for a regular salary? She didn¡¯t want a regular salary. She wanted to be filthy rich, and to be set up for a life of comfort forever.


    That, of course, left being a villain right out as well. At least, a permanent villain. Fell-Touched tended to get money, yes, but they were always being hunted. She didn¡¯t want that. There was no way to be comfortable with your money when you kept having to look over your shoulder for superpowered idiots coming to arrest you.


    If she wasn¡¯t going to be a villain or a hero, that left Sell-Touched. And yet, even that was hard to pull off properly without making too many enemies of both sides. She¡¯d needed something big, something she could use to make a powerful name for herself without making enemies of one side or another.


    That had led her to the Scions. Not because she really liked them or wanted to join them. No, they were the perfect targets. What better way to make a name for herself than to be the person responsible for turning in Pencil and Cup? It wouldn¡¯t matter what else she did in the process. Being the person who made sure those two ended up on Breakwater would allow Jennica to write her own ticket anywhere she wanted to go. There were multiple rewards from various groups for their capture, all adding up to millions of dollars. Between that and the goodwill she would have from all the people for bringing those two to justice, Jennica would be able to ask for anything she wanted. She would be able to go anywhere, do anything, be anyone. And the best part was that since the Scions would be completely dismantled in the process, there would be no one left of any consequence to come after her.


    So, she¡¯d begun developing her own undercover plan. It had to be realistic, and people had to die to make it happen. But that was okay. You had to break a few eggs to make an omelet. And in this case, the omelet was the capture of Pencil and Cup, and wiping the Scions off the face of the map. Which meant people would forgive an awful lot of broken eggs. Anything she did to get to that point would be forgiven. If not openly, then at least surreptitiously. They might still condemn her in public, but no one would seriously go after her once she took Pencil off the table as a threat.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Everything was proceeding properly. The other candidates would be finding out just how screwed they were right then, Pencil was desperate and not thinking properly, and all she had to do was mosey on back to the apartment building and¡­ handle things.


    Within the hour, this would all be over, and she would be set for the rest of her life.


    **********


    Haley Torres was annoyed. Things were not going according to plan. Not her plan anyway. The former Minority-turned-Sell-Touched known as Echo had come back to Detroit specifically to find out what had happened to her old friend, Irelyn/Flea. Granted, Irelyn probably would have raised questions about the term ¡®friend¡¯ considering how they had left off their relationship. She hadn¡¯t reacted well to Haley turning her back on being a cheap goodie good for the Minority and choosing to become a mercenary instead. But no matter what Irelyn thought, Haley still considered her a friend. And finding out that her friend was in some sort of Touched-Tech manufactured coma or something had brought her back to this city for the first time in years. She came to find out who was responsible for hurting Irelyn, and to make them pay.


    Unfortunately, she hadn¡¯t had much luck with that so far. But she did have some clues. One of which was the fact that the Scions had apparently tripped over one of the labs used to create the bioweapon. She needed to find out what else they knew, or what they had. Which meant tracking some of them down.


    That had eventually led her to the storage facility they were using as a hideout and a place to keep their hostages. But before Haley had been able to plan out a good entrance that wouldn¡¯t leave her in a stupidly vulnerable position, she¡¯d spotted something else. One of those Scion candidates, the one called Trove, was leaving the place. Now wasn¡¯t that interesting and convenient? For once since she¡¯d arrived back in Detroit, something was going her way. Charging straight into the hornets nest back there was a bad idea, but one lone girl? She could deal with that, and get some actual answers out of her.


    So, Echo followed that lone would-be Scion. She wore her usual costume (quite similar to what she had worn as a member of the Minority years earlier) of a Touched-Tech reinforced white turtleneck that would guard against most small-arms fire or other similar impacts as well as certain temperature changes and the like, an equally reinforced dark blue trench coat, black cargo pants with matching combat boots, and a white helmet that covered her entire head, with a blue visor over her face.


    It wasn''t hard for her to track the girl moving through the alleys below while she stayed on the rooftops completely out of sight. She didn''t even have to look that way. Her hearing was enhanced enough to track the girl¡¯s footsteps perfectly without looking at her. Which meant she avoided being seen herself. It was an advantage that had helped her a lot over the years, not only with tracking people, but eavesdropping as well. She could be at the far end of a street away from her target and perfectly hone her hearing in order to tune out every other conversation so she could focus solely on listening to what they were saying.


    Her practice with that enhanced hearing also meant that she could tell when the girl below her was using her phone. She could hear those fingers tapping across the screen. Only then, when she knew the girl would be occupied with that, did Echo take the chance to peek over the edge of the roof and look down that way. Normally, it would''ve been impossible to see the phone screen from here, but Echo held both hands up in front of her face as though she was holding a pair of binoculars and recreated a soft squeaking sound of the actual thing being adjusted. Her power allowed her to duplicate the effects of objects she had heard. Which meant that, as soon as she made that sound (itself far too quiet for her target to pick up on), she might as well have been holding real binoculars in her hands. Her vision immediately telescoped, allowing her to see the screen.


    Rideshare. The girl below her was calling for a rideshare to pick her up. Really? Something that mundane? Oh well, Haley could work with that.


    Pulling back to avoid being spotted, she listened to the sounds of the girl taking off the long red raincoat, black cloth mask, and goggles that had marked her as Trove, shoving the ¡®costume¡¯ into a backpack before stepping over to the mouth of the alley to await the car that was on its way to pick her up. She was actually humming nonchalantly to herself, clearly in a good mood.


    From her spot on the roof, Echo was able to see when the car (whose description she had seen on the phone screen while looking through her ¡®binoculars¡¯) turned onto the right street. Traffic in this area was pretty light, so there were no other vehicles around to spot her as she created an invisible wooden plank and ran from the rooftop to the ground just in time to put herself directly in front of the car. Its driver skidded to a stop, mouth opening to ask who the hell she was. But before he could actually voice the question, she held a hand out with five hundred dollars in cash. ¡°The person you¡¯re about to pick up is one of those Scions. I need to borrow your car for five minutes. You can walk down the street and pick it up after that. Take the money and get out, or I can knock you out and take it anyway. You have five seconds to decide.¡±


    Needless to say, within fifteen seconds, the driver was waiting on the sidewalk with his new cash in hand, while Echo was in the driver¡¯s seat. She had donned the hat and jacket he had been wearing over her own costume, using that as a very slight disguise while she pulled up to the curb where Trove was waiting. She didn¡¯t even look that way, turning to stare in the other direction so the only thing the girl would see was the back of her head covered by the hat.


    Sure enough, Jennica was barely paying attention. In her civilian guise, she just looked like any other slender (almost malnourished) black teenage girl wearing ratty old jeans and a tee shirt advertising a local band. She waited until the car stopped, then opened the back door and got in. ¡°You know where you¡¯re going, right? I need you to step on it. There¡¯s a hundred buck tip in it for you if you get there in the next ten minutes.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Echo noted, ¡°however will I resist a hundred buck tip from a psycho murderer?¡±


    Jennica started to react to that, of course. But before she could so much as move, Haley pointed her hand into the backseat and ¡®Echoed¡¯ the sound of gas being shot out of a hose. But not just any gas out of a hose. This was the sound of a particularly potent knock-out gas, invented by a Tech-Touched she had run into six months earlier. The actual gas would knock people out for hours. Unfortunately, Haley¡¯s power couldn¡¯t duplicate something like that. The best she could manage was to knock someone unconscious for about sixty seconds. But that was enough, especially in this confined space. It would¡¯ve been harder to pull off in open air, yet in the back of a car like that, the wannabe Scion was knocked out almost instantly.


    Wasting no time, Echo hopped out of the driver''s seat and opened the back. She dragged the other girl out and down through the nearby alley she had just been standing in, leaving the car for its driver to pick up. Knowing her new captive would wake up any moment, she dragged her far from where anyone would see, and took a moment to bind her hands and ankles with stay-down cuffs she had appropriated for herself. Then she sat the girl up against the side of a dumpster and waited for her to wake up.


    Once she did, Jennica immediately jerked against the dual cuffs on her wrists and ankles. ¡°What the--what the fuck?! Who--wait.¡± She looked that way, taking in the sight. ¡°I know you. You used to be one of the Minority people around here years ago. Then you got smart and went for the money. You¡¯re like my idol. I mean, you would be if I had idols.¡±


    ¡°Well, that wasn¡¯t how I was expecting you to react,¡± Echo noted. ¡°Does that ¡®almost your idol¡¯ thing extend as far as telling me everything you know about what the Scions found in that bio lab without me having to take the time to beat it out of you? Cuz that really would simplify things.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Jennica blinked that way a couple times. ¡°You wanna know--oh.¡± She snickered once, then laughed and shook her head. ¡°Dude, have I got an offer for you.


    ¡°You and I? We¡¯re gonna be rich.¡±


    ******


    Bang


    ¡°We were supposed to be rich, you stupid cunt! Why the fuck won¡¯t you listen to me?! Hey! Hey stop it! What the fuck do you think you¡¯re--ooof!¡±


    That was the sound that people within the front foyer of the Conservators headquarters were treated to as Echo, in full costume, literally kicked the door open and dragged the would-be Scion known as Trove through the entrance before tossing her onto the ground. The stay-down cuffs made sure she stayed put.


    ¡°Oh come on, people,¡± Haley spoke loudly into the stunned room, ¡°the name¡¯s Echo, you had to know I¡¯d come back eventually.¡± Her eyes scanned the group, settling on one of the receptionists. ¡°Becky, still no promotion, huh? Told you this was a dead-end job. And speaking of dead ends, I guess I¡¯m right back home again, just in time to help you all make sure there¡¯s still an actual city for Flea to wake up in. Speaking of which, I need to talk to whoever¡¯s in charge around here. You know, if anyone is actually interested in bringing down Pencil and his lot once and for all.


    ¡°Take your time deciding, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s no rush.¡±

 Acceptance 29-01

    I found out where the other, previously unknown Scion was fairly shortly after the whole situation had calmed down a bit. Well, as calm as the situation could be considering everything that had happened, and everything was still going on, anyway. At the very least, there was a slight lull in the storm. The Scions (or wannabes) who had been here were taken into custody. And so was that other guy. He¡¯d been taking hostages at some mall a couple miles away, with help from some Prev troops he¡¯d taken with him.


    Of all people, it had been Deicide and Skip working together who took care of that situation. I suppose it made sense with that being her territory and all. Plus, it was the Scions. Or at least someone trying to join them by killing a whole bunch of people. Of course those two had been willing to ally to stop him. Not that I had any idea why that guy in particular hadn¡¯t been here to join in on this plan. It was weird, wasn¡¯t it? All of the candidates except one and some minions were part of this, while he seemed to be keeping to the original voiced plan from Pencil. A plan we had been told was just a distraction. So why was he carrying it out? Just to make it look more convincing? Or had he been left out of the actual plan intentionally? Did these guys do all this on their own? No, they didn''t make sense. Box had definitely spoken as though Pencil knew this plan of theirs. So it was all confusing.


    Even more confusing was the question of where Jennica had disappeared to. Seriously, she''d had those control and pain gems on their prisoners. Then, according to those guys, she had left and the gems simply fell off eventually. Where did she go? Why wasn''t she there when this whole thing went down? Did she come back and notice it was all falling apart? That didn''t make sense, because they said that the gems had fallen off long before the fight even started. And we knew the gems didn''t fall off just because she wasn''t right there, because she¡¯d used them from a distance and over a long time with her zombie-creating foster brother. She¡¯d just disappeared and had her power turn off for no particular reason that we could find. It raised questions, though I wasn¡¯t going to object to not having to deal with her today. Small blessings, or something.


    Yeah, even I didn¡¯t believe that. Some part of me was certain she would find a way to jump back in and cause even more problems before this was over. We checked over everyone for any gems just to make sure this wasn¡¯t part of her plan. Even then I kind of still expected Jennica to suddenly and dramatically reveal that this was all some sort of trap. And I wasn¡¯t the only one. Not knowing where she was or what had happened to her was making all of us pretty jumpy, including the cops who were standing guard around the building and clearing the rest of the lot. They were working in groups to make sure no one was ever left alone or went out of sight.


    Caishen was the one who filled me in on everything else that was happening. She pulled me aside while the bad guys here were being loaded up and taken away. In a corner of the parking lot, the Ten Towers leader brought me up to speed while getting the full story from me about what happened here. It was a long conversation, and I was the only one who could give it to them at this point. Both Facs and Yeet had taken off once things calmed down, apparently really not wanting to be interrogated. As had Grandstand, unsurprisingly. The three of them went off together, which raised even more questions in my mind. Questions I was going to have to get answers to later.


    And, of course, Eits and Broadway had been taken by Blackjack and the rest of La Casa. I would try to check in to make sure they were okay and that their people had actually done something with the formula I gave them once I got out of here. Some part of me still felt guilty about letting Blackjack take them instead of going to the actual hospital. But then, he had just as many resources as they would, and his own doctors. They could handle it. I was just worried about Eits, and even Broadway. And I was worried about Pack too. She was conscious and everything, yes, but she¡¯d clearly been hurt like Amber. Yet she¡¯d gone out there to try to chase the other girl and Whamline down. As far as I knew, no one knew where she was right now either.


    Wobble and Carousel had gone out to look for their teammate too, but had been brought back by a couple of Caishen¡¯s people shortly afterwards. They didn¡¯t like it, to say the least, yet Caishen told them they were in no condition to get involved in any fight until the doctors cleared them, and promised she had Towers people scouring the surrounding area. They would find and help That-A-Way. I just hoped it would be soon enough before¡­ before anything too bad happened.


    So, with some argument, those two were taken to the hospital alongside Izzy and the Syndicates. They might not have been infected by whatever those two (five counting the duplicates) had been, but maybe they were and just hadn¡¯t succumbed to it yet. And even if not, they still needed to be examined and patched up. They, like Amber, had been hurt pretty bad while they were locked up in there under the ¡®care¡¯ of the Scions wannabes. Meanwhile, the others had to be given that cure that Simon had handed over, once the doctors managed to make sure it wasn¡¯t some sort of poison and put it together.


    Worried as I was about what happened with Jennica and why she had just disappeared, it was a good thing she hadn¡¯t been here to cause even more problems. Those guys had been through enough. And we still didn¡¯t know exactly what was going on with Whamline and Way. The two of them had seemingly vanished into thin air. And the longer we went without getting an update, the more worried I was. Unfortunately, we had no way to easily track them. Neither of them had their phones, and whatever they were doing apparently wasn''t happening in front of anyone who would call it in.


    Hell, right now, we didn¡¯t know where Pack was either. For all I knew, she was with Amber right now. Maybe they were holed up somewhere, staying out of sight and recovering. Or maybe they were in the middle of a fight with Whamline and no one had seen them yet. Or maybe--damn it stop thinking about them being hurt or dead!


    Dead. The thought finally manifested fully in my head despite every effort I made to keep it out. We had no idea where Pack and Amber were, but as dangerous as Whamline was-- and how fucked up was that? He was supposed to be a hero. Not just a hero, Whamline was supposed to be Amber¡¯s teammate, her friend. She was supposed to be able to trust him. But no, she couldn¡¯t. Because he was a traitor. Worse, he was the one who killed Amber¡¯s dad. I had no idea how that had happened or what--I had no idea. I couldn¡¯t understand it at all. All I did know was that I was terrified for Amber. I didn¡¯t know what was going on, if she was okay, if she¡¯d won their fight or if--no, I wouldn¡¯t think about that. She would be okay. She would bring him in as soon as they--as soon as she could. Pack had to have found her, right? Of course. They would handle Whamline together and then come back.


    On top of all that, I was also terrified about Izzy. Part of me had wanted to insist on coming along with her and the others when they went to the hospital, but I had no idea how I would explain it. It wasn¡¯t like I could tell them I already knew her identity because she was my adopted sister or anything. Well, I could, but it would¡¯ve brought up even more problems. Even then, I might¡¯ve been tempted if Simon hadn''t handed me the information about that cure. I had to believe that he cared enough about her to make sure it would work. I had plenty of issues with the stuff he and our parents did, but I knew he would want to help her. That was basically the only thing that kept me from throwing myself in the back of the ambulance to go along with them.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Finally, I''d told Caishen everything I could, including that an anonymous source I trusted but couldn¡¯t give away had given me the formula for the cure to whatever was affecting Raindrop and Syndicate. Not that she was all that happy about me not telling her exactly where that cure came from, obviously. But she kind of understood having to not reveal certain things, no matter how important they might be. After all, she wasn''t just a Star-Touched and accustomed to keeping secrets on that level, but was also big into corporate security and all that. After just a little bit of pushing, she let it go for the moment. But she did promise we would be talking about it at another point. I had a feeling she didn''t want to go too hard at me after everything that happened.


    Glancing over towards the far corner of the parking lot where my team was waiting, I swallowed uncertainly before turning back to Caishen. ¡°We''re going to go look for Way too. Maybe your people missed something. I mean, she can teleport, and it''s a big city.¡±


    The woman opened her mouth, and I could tell she was about to tell me to stand down and take a break after everything that had happened. Not that I would''ve listened, but we were both gearing up for a full argument on that point when she was interrupted by one of her security people running up. He stepped aside with her and they spoke in low voices for a moment. Part of me wanted to take that chance to simply leave, but I heard the man say That-A-Way, so I stopped myself and stared at them anxiously.


    Sure enough, after Caishen thanked the man and sent him on his way, she turned back to me. I couldn''t read her body language. She didn''t seem completely defeated or anything, but she also didn''t seem relaxed and relieved. Focusing on me, the woman paused for a moment, clearly collecting herself. Before I could blurt any demands, she spoke. ¡°They found him.¡±


    ¡°Him?¡± I echoed in confusion. There was something about the way she said that, combined with specifying him and not them. ¡°You mean Whamline. What--¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± she informed me bluntly, like tearing off a band-aid. ¡°They were at a construction site and it looks like he was killed when part of the building collapsed on him. From what they said, Way was there with that Pack girl. But when the authorities showed up, they disappeared. She teleported away with the La Casa Fell and no one has any idea where they are now.¡±


    Dead. Whamline was dead, clearly having been killed through a fight with Amber. She really--had she¡­ yes. That was the only thing that made sense. And why shouldn¡¯t she have? Part of me immediately demanded that. He¡¯d killed her father, had gloated about it, had promised to kill Amber¡¯s friend (me), after being a traitor to her and the rest of their teammates. He¡¯d meant to kill all of them, just as a way to join the team of psychopaths whose entire thing was killing people and destroying lives!


    Of course she had killed him when they fought. Not only would he have killed her given half a chance, but she had every reason to, and I didn''t think anyone would officially hold it against her. Not with everything that was going on. There was a lockdown quarantine around the whole city, a huge portion of the people who could actually keep the peace were out of commission, and the Scions had been threatening to kill hundreds if not thousands of people until they got what they wanted. Knowing all of that, Whamline had still willingly signed up on that side. He betrayed everyone and tried to throw in with those monsters. I had no doubt that Amber would be cleared for killing him once everything came out.


    But that was all just legally speaking. He had been her friend for over a year, had fought right beside her through who knew how many life and death battles? She had trusted him, trusted him. And the whole time, he had been the one who was responsible for killing her dad. She had gone through all that with him and the whole time he was that same piece of shit she had been trying so hard to find. And now he was dead. She¡¯d killed the boy who had killed her dad, but he was also the boy who had been her friend. How messed up was she right now?


    At least Pack was with her. I¡­ still had no idea what was going on between the three of them (those two and Dani), and definitely didn¡¯t want to get in the middle of it. That was their business. The only thing that really mattered right now was that Amber had someone she could talk to. I just hoped she would talk to the rest of us at some point.


    All of that ran through my mind as I simply promised Caishen that I would let them know if I saw Way. She told me to come by Ten Towers at some point for a more thorough debriefing, but to get some sleep for now. I thanked her for not pushing too hard, then was about to go join the others when Caishen put her hand gently on my shoulder. And yet, even gently made me flinch, a gasp escaping me.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought,¡± she announced. ¡°You''re not just exhausted, though you are that. You''re also hurt. I''m not going to have you try to run out of here and then fall off a building because your arm doesn''t work right.¡± Before I could protest, she gave a loud whistle before pointing as a dark red van with the Ten Towers logo on the sides came around the corner and stopped nearby. ¡°You and your people take that van and go straight to the Seraphs so you can get checked out. I¡¯m sure one of your older teammates can legally drive.¡± She paused before focusing on me. ¡°You have my word there are no listening or recording devices on the vehicle, though you¡¯ll probably have your Tech double-check anyway. Either way, take the van, go and get patched up, then just leave it for my people to pick up. If you need to drop it off anywhere other than the Seraphs¡¯ lot, give us a call to let us know where it is. And Paintball,¡± Her voice softened, ¡°thank you for everything you did today. And thank your team too. You all helped avert an unspeakable tragedy.¡±


    ¡°Pencil¡¯s still holed up in that place,¡± I pointed out. ¡°And he¡¯s gonna be pretty pissed off right now.¡±


    ¡°He will, and we¡¯ll deal with it.¡± I could hear the tiredness in her voice before she shook it off. ¡°But that¡¯s for later. Now go, or I¡¯ll have you all detained just long enough to force you into medical evaluation.¡±


    Wincing at the threat, I waved the others over and explained what was going on. The driver stepped out, and Paige took the wheel with Sierra beside her while the rest of us piled into the back. It was actually a pretty nice van, full-sized with three rows of passenger seats. Which was good, since everyone except Fred was here. Sierra and Paige in the front, Wren and Peyton in the row right behind them, me in the middle row laying down while I had the chance, and Rubi, Murphy, and Roald in the back row behind me. Qwerty hopped over the seats and landed on mine, curling up close as I shifted to make room for him with a small smile. When the others started to ask what was going on, I shook my head from my slumped position and insisted we get out of there and talk about it somewhere else. I didn¡¯t want to be there right then.


    As soon as we had driven far enough away from that storage place, Paige informed us that there were no signals or recording devices anywhere on the van, just as Caishen had promised. Even then, however, I didn¡¯t plan to talk about anything involving the Ministry or the like.


    What I could do was talk about what they were all wondering. What was going on with That-A-Way.  The problem was, I didn''t know exactly what I should say. Was it really my place to tell them what had happened with Way and Whamline? They would look at her differently after that. Some more than others. And yet, what else was I supposed to say? I couldn''t lie to them. My parents had been lying to me for my own good and to avoid tough conversations my entire life. I didn''t want to turn into them. But I also didn''t want to go talking about something that big behind Amber''s back.


    In the end, I said the only thing I could. ¡°Whamline died. If Way wants to talk about it, that''s up to her.¡±


    Obviously, that raised a lot of questions, but Rubi made everyone stop. Well, Rubi and Sierra actually. They both made everyone quiet down from both ends of the vehicle, until Qwerty gave me a hesitant little touch of his paw against my helmet. ¡°Uh, you¡¯re okay though, right? I¡¯d really hate to make a first friend and then have that first friend get really hurt right after.¡±


    There was a lot I wanted to say to that. But I just held my hand out for the little guy to crawl into before tugging the damaged helmet and mask off so I could look at him face to face. ¡°I could be a hell of a lot worse, buddy. Just sore, maybe a few cracks. I gave worse than I got. And we made it out alive. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hold off on letting the person whose tendency to throw themself off buildings and into certain calamity only slightly increased when they got super powers make that assessment,¡± Paige noted from the driver¡¯s seat as the van pulled through the gates of the Seraph headquarters. They were standing open and the guard had just waved us on, probably because Caishen had called ahead. ¡°We¡¯re here. Time for you to go in and get an actual doctor¡¯s diagnosis.¡±


    So, I pulled the mask and helmet back on before carefully sliding out. Peyton and Sierra helped, since I was really feeling the pain by that point. Everything hurt. My adrenaline was gone, so I needed to lean on both of them a bit as we moved toward the waiting doorway.


    And yet, it could be so much worse. I was sore, yes. But I was alive. I was safe. What about Amber? Where was she? She didn¡¯t have her phone, she didn¡¯t have¡­ anything except Pack. And she had just killed Whamline, the guy who killed her father. She was¡­ she had to be going through a lot.


    I just hoped she would be okay. And that wherever she was, she¡¯d know we¡¯d be here when she was ready.

 Acceptance 29-02

    So, with help from Peyton and Sierra, I went into the Seraphs headquarters. Paige and the others waited outside, both because we didn¡¯t want to be a whole crowd barging through the facility, and because Paige had some bad memories about this place since it was where she had been reprogrammed and put more firmly under Pittman¡¯s control. She had made it clear on the way over that she had no intention of going into any of the buildings if she could help it. But she would be monitoring things through her connection to Sierra.


    Once we were inside, I spoke to Tricia, the kindly old receptionist I¡¯d talked to before while I was visiting to do that extra work. She looked frazzled and tired, like she¡¯d been run ragged keeping up with everything that was going on. Which I supposed put her in the same boat as basically everyone else. Despite her obvious stress, however, she was still incredibly polite and seemed horrified by my appearance. Maybe I looked worse than I thought with my half-broken helmet and the way I was limping along with the help of Style and Alloy. Or maybe she was just overreacting.


    Either way, she came around the desk and insisted on personally escorting me, along with the other two, through the facility to meet with Patchwork. I wasn¡¯t sure if she thought I would pass out and the other two wouldn¡¯t be able to carry me for some reason, or if she thought I¡¯d find an excuse not to actually see the medical Star-Touched and simply leave. From the way she kept a sharp eye on me and kept herself between us and the exit, probably more the latter.


    Jeez, between these two insisting on half-carrying me, and Tricia marching us straight through the building, it was like these people didn¡¯t trust me to get medical attention when I needed it. Which was clearly ridiculous. I may have been a little bit of an action junkie, but I didn¡¯t hate doctors or anything. Besides, I wasn¡¯t even that hu--ohhh boy, I nearly fell over as we went into an elevator and the other two let me lean against the railing. They had to catch me as I slipped to one side, which wasn¡¯t a fun experience. I may have let out a bit of a pained grunt that was decidedly unimpressive. Which only made Tricia look more concerned. I was not doing a very good job of looking like a stoic and badass hero right then. Or ever. Probably ever. Honestly, a lot of words probably came to mind when it came to the impression I gave off as Paintball, and ¡®stoic¡¯ wasn¡¯t any of them.


    Eventually, we reached the medical examination wing. Or one of them, anyway. I could see several doctors running back and forth, which did admittedly make me tense up a little. I couldn¡¯t afford for them to look at me too closely. Or really touch me that much. I might not have had a lot in the way of a chest, but it was still extant and I was pretty sure they¡¯d notice it if they had to touch me very much. And I didn¡¯t know exactly how I would tell them I didn¡¯t want to be touched without making the reason for my objection obvious. So maybe I did have a bit of a problem with medical professionals after all.


    Fortunately, I didn¡¯t have to worry about it too much. We went past all those doctors and to a small room where Patchwork was already waiting. While the other two helped practically carry me inside, I took in the older girl¡¯s appearance. As usual, she wore green chest armor with a black mesh shirt over it, a matching green visor over the top half of her face, dark motorcycle boots, and black leather pants. Her hair was cut in that same short, spiky style and still dyed green. She looked completely out of place in a hospital type environment, to say the least. Which felt like an intentional thing.


    ¡°You know, normally I¡¯d give you a lot of shit about getting yourself hurt by running into a room full of psychopaths with no backup,¡± Patchwork noted as I was carefully brought in and allowed to slump down in a nearby chair. ¡°But in this case, I¡¯ll make an exception. From the sound of things, you didn¡¯t have much of a choice.¡±


    I felt myself blanch under the mask and broken helmet. My voice was a bit weak, audibly cracking. ¡°Oh, god, I must be dying if you¡¯re being nice to me.¡±


    Her response was to flip me off. ¡°Don''t be a dick, kid. Or I''ll change my mind.¡± Her posture softened a bit and she pulled a chair up to sit in front of me. ¡°Seriously, it seems like we wouldn''t have a Minority left at all if it wasn''t for you.¡±


    ¡°Not just me,¡± I insisted. ¡°I had help finding the place. And I got lucky. We don''t even know what happened to that Jennica girl. If she''d been there, if she''d been able to control the Touched they abducted, it would''ve been a lot different. A lot worse.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Tricia spoke up, ¡°we do know what happened to that awful girl after all. A ahhh¡­ Touched who was part of the original Minority here, Echo--¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of her,¡± Peyton put in quickly. ¡°She took off to become a Sell-Touched merc, right? It was a huge deal like a decade ago.¡±


    ¡°The very same,¡± the elderly woman confirmed. ¡°Well, it seems she hasn¡¯t completely abandoned her sense of responsibility for this city. She¡¯s returned and captured that girl. She just turned her into the authorities a few minutes ago.¡±


    Well that¡­ huh. I¡¯d been expecting all sorts of possible outcomes to that situation, but ¡®she¡¯s been safely apprehended by someone who came back to help¡¯ wasn¡¯t one of them.


    Patchwork exchanged a look with Tricia before waving her off. ¡°I''ve got this. He''ll be fine in a minute.¡± As the elderly woman left the room, she turned her attention back to me. ¡°You wanna tell me what hurts, or should I just start guessing?¡±


    Before I could say anything, Style spoke up. ¡°Here, it''s a full list of his injuries.¡± She handed over a piece of paper with an awful lot of writing on it. Which confused me momentarily, but then I realized she and Paige must have given me a thorough examination with whatever extra senses their bodies came with. Useful, that.


    Patchwork took the list and scanned it with an audible grunt of disbelief before giving me a dirty look. ¡°You know, maybe I should give you a hard time after all. Because it sure seems like you''re trying as hard as you can to get yourself killed out there. What¡¯d you do, dare them to hit you as hard as they could?¡±


    My head shook quickly. ¡°I swear, I''d rather live. I¡®d just, you know, also prefer that other people get to do the same. And those guys didn¡¯t need any encouragement to hit me.¡±


    Snorting at that, the woman turned to the other two. ¡°Okay, well I need to copy healthy parts over to him. So which of you wants to volunteer for that?¡±


    That was how her power worked. If she wanted to heal something that was injured, like a broken bone, she had to touch a healthy version of that part. Then she could copy the status of that part, or whatever, and paste it onto the injured part of the other person. She didn''t actually move any physical structure or anything. It just made the second body part be in the same relative condition as the first. And it was only permanent if you were Touched. She could do it for Prevs, but the effect would fade after a couple hours. Which was probably a big reason for why she had any free time at all. If her power worked to completely and permanently heal anyone she used it on, I was pretty sure she''d never be able to leave the hospital. It felt like that would drive anyone insane. Especially if it came down to finding out people were dying whenever you had to sleep. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how stressful that would be.


    On the other hand, she probably also felt guilty that she couldn¡¯t heal people like that. She was so close to being able to truly save almost anyone who needed her, and at best she could function as a delaying action to help non-powered people survive long enough to get regular medical aid. The whole situation was probably pretty frustrating no matter how she came at it. Which just made me glad I didn¡¯t have her power, or her responsibilities. I was having enough trouble with my own as it was.


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    In any case, Alloy stepped forward and held her hand. ¡°You can use me for all of it.¡±


    Yeah, that was probably a good idea. I had no idea if Patchwork would be able to tell Style wasn''t a normal human body, but it felt like a risk we should probably avoid. This whole thing was dangerous enough with avoiding letting her figure out the obvious differences between my physical body and what she would be expecting from Paintball. We absolutely had to avoid any more unnecessary risks. Even if she would be a completely perfect match for all of my body parts, at least physically.


    Yeah, that was probably something we wanted to avoid giving away too.


    I sat there for the next few minutes while Patchwork repeatedly touched Alloy, copied the health of one of her body parts, then touched me and passed it over. Obviously, there were a couple tense moments where she had to touch my chest. But if the woman noticed anything, she didn''t give any indication. And through it all, I rapidly felt better. Pain that I hadn''t even realized I was feeling melted away, along with all the pain I absolutely had noticed. It left me half-slumped in the seat, a soft murmur of relief escaping me before I knew it was coming. God, how hurt had I actually been to feel this good just because it was taken away?


    Left with that somewhat scary thought, I straightened up and extended a hand to the woman. ¡°Seriously, thanks. I didn''t even realize I needed that so much.¡±


    She took my hand, frowning. ¡°You know, there''s a lot I could say to that, and most of it is probably a bit more rude than you deserve after everything you''ve done. So yeah, you better get out of here while I''m still feeling all nice and polite.¡±


    But instead of releasing my hand, she held tighter for a moment and added, ¡°I meant what I said before. We wouldn''t have a Minority anymore if it wasn''t for you. Thanks. But be careful out there, okay? Pencil was already pretty pissed at you, and something tells me this isn''t going to make him feel any nicer. Watch your back and make sure the rest of your team does the same. I really don¡¯t need to get another call that one of you has to be saved from something even worse than what you got dragged in here with.¡±


    ¡°Oh, speaking of things Pencil is going to be pissed at us for,¡± I put in, ¡°can you spread the word that he¡¯s not really completely immune to everything but actually has a limited number of defenses, so if you hit him enough times with the same thing you¡¯ll eventually break through and be able to hurt him?¡±


    I said it distractedly while yawning a bit, only to glance that way to find Patchwork staring at me in disbelief. ¡°Oh, right. Yeah, that¡¯s something we found out earlier. I¡¯ve been trying to get the word out through the right people. It¡¯s a really long story, but the gist is he¡¯s got limited defenses as long as you hit him with the same thing over and over again and don¡¯t let him recharge or whatever. He can be hurt.¡±


    For a long moment, the woman continued to stare at me. Then she took a radio off her hip and said something into it about needing to talk. Once a confirmation came back from whoever she¡¯d sent it to, Patchwork gestured for us to leave. ¡°Go on, he¡¯ll want to talk to you too. So tell him all the details I should be demanding you tell me right now.¡±


    As I picked myself up and headed for the door with Sierra and Peyton, I wondered who ¡®he¡¯ was very briefly. Then the three of us passed into the hallway, and I immediately saw Lucent perched on a nearby windowsill.


    ¡°Papa!¡± I blurted with a grin despite myself, extending a hand for him to flap over.


    ¡°My boy!¡± His voice was a mix of pride and exasperation, as well as enough tiredness to remind me that he had clearly been going through a lot as well throughout this whole thing. Everyone who was still conscious and unaffected by that bio-attack were being run ragged. Lifting a wing, he touched it against my forehead. Or at least against the helmet. ¡°You''ve been up to your usual amount keeping yourself busy, I hear.¡±


    Snorting at that, I shrugged. ¡°Yeah, I guess so. But what about the others? Have you heard anything about Syndicate and Raindrop?¡± I tried to keep the right amount of worry in my voice. I couldn''t afford to let them know just how anxious I really was about Izzy. Though the simple fact that I had managed to stop myself from demanding to go with her was a pretty strong testament to my willpower, to be honest. Maybe it had helped that I was so exhausted and sore. But now that Patchwork had helped me feel better, I was back to just being terrified for my sister.


    ¡°As I understand, the cure you supplied the notes for has been synthesized and determined to be safe for consumption,¡± he informed us with a glance toward Style and Alloy. ¡°The last I heard, they were about to administer it. If you would like to adjourn to the waiting room to hear how it goes, I am quite confident the doctors would be willing to share information with the one responsible for providing it in the first place.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re here?¡± I started to ask before coughing. ¡°Right, of course they are. This would be the best place to put something like that together on short notice, and analyze it to make sure it wasn''t going to do anything bad.¡±


    ¡°Just so,¡± Lucent agreed. ¡°Though that does of course leave us all with the rather obvious question, despite your greatly earned gratitude.¡±


    ¡°I can''t tell you where I got the cure from,¡± I replied with a wince. ¡°I''m sorry, but they¡¯re an anonymous source. And you see why they need to remain anonymous, especially if this works the way it''s supposed to.¡±


    I could feel the way he was staring at me intently, clearly trying to see if he needed to say something more than he already had about who these people were. But in the end, he simply nodded. ¡°Whoever they are, I''m glad you have enough contact with them to be given something this important.¡± There was a softness and understanding to his voice. He may not have known exactly what was going on, but it felt like he knew how hard it was for me to refuse to talk more about it. ¡°Now, would you like to see how the procedure is going?¡±


    ¡°I know I sure as hell would,¡± Alloy piped up. ¡°Those guys didn¡¯t look very good when they were being loaded into the ambulances. I mean--¡± She looked quickly to me, then back to Lucent on my arm. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be okay.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go see about that,¡± I managed, doing my best to stop my voice from cracking too much. I had to keep my breathing steady, telling myself not to shove everyone out of the way and run straight to Izzy. The fact that I didn¡¯t know exactly where she was would seem to have helped with that, but to be honest, I really didn¡¯t think that would¡¯ve stopped me on its own. If I let myself lose control, I would absolutely go tearing through the whole facility until I figured out where they were keeping her.


    Fortunately, I didn''t need to go through all that. Instead, we just walked through the building the way Lucent directed us. On the way, I stretched my arms and rolled my shoulders a bit. ¡°Man, Patchwork does a really good job with that healing stuff. I feel like I should come see her after every little scrap if she can make me feel this great.¡±


    ¡°I would recommend against calling what you just went through a little scrap,¡± Lucent noted, ¡°and against getting into such situations regularly.¡± He paused briefly before adding, ¡°Finally, I would recommend against requesting Lady Patch¡¯s services too often. She tends to become somewhat grumpy in such instances.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I gave my best scout¡¯s honor promise to avoid throwing myself into fights against near-impossible odds for at least the rest of the day. Even with that caveat I made sure to cross my fingers.


    Soon, we made it to the waiting room outside the experimental lab where they were working on Syndicate and Raindrop. The other Minority Touched were already there. Well, Carousel and Wobble were anyway. A quick conversation with the two of them confirmed that no one knew where That-A-Way was yet. She hadn¡¯t shown up and wasn¡¯t answering any messages. Which, honestly, I didn¡¯t blame her for. After everything she had been through, the girl deserved some time to herself. Or just time with Pack, if that was what she needed. When she was ready, she would show herself again. And from the way the other two were talking, they felt similarly, though probably still frustrated about not being able to help her themselves.


    While we were sitting there, I gave Lucent as well as the two Minority members the details about how we had discovered what Pencil''s weakness was. All three of them were very interested, especially when it came to the bit about our new (currently unnamed) friend punching that fucking bastard in the face and actually managing to hurt him. They wanted to hear every detail, and I had to promise that they could hear the story from Rubi herself soon enough.


    At the very least, that helped distract Carousel and Wobble from worrying about their other two teammates (not to mention my little sister) for a bit. And we got an update pretty quickly. They had been given the cure and were awake. Apparently it worked pretty quickly, which encouraged the doctors. But they were still going to be thoroughly examined and wouldn''t be allowed to see us for at least an hour. Still, the nurse who gave us the update assured us that they seemed to be okay and that all signs were positive.


    Letting out a deep breath, I turned to the chair Lucent was perched on the back of. I desperately wanted to check on Izzy myself, but I was going to have to be satisfied with being told she was okay. For now, at least. Fortunately, I had a good way to distract myself. ¡°Well, now that that''s settled, would you mind coming to the van with us?


    ¡°I''ve got a little friend who really wants to meet you.¡±

 Acceptance 29-03

    I wasn¡¯t wrong about Qwerty really wanting to meet Lucent. As soon as we got out to the van, the little guy leapt through the open passenger-side window. ¡°Hi, hi, hi!¡± Those three (or one) words came before he¡¯d even landed on the asphalt. And he didn¡¯t so much land as bounce. Rebounding off the parking lot, he hit the side of the van he had just jumped out of, rebounded off that to jump onto the side mirror, then jumped off that to land on top of the van roof. Each time his feet touched down, he said another word. ¡°My--name¡¯s--Qwerty!¡± From the roof, he leapt out, spreading his wings to glide over all of our heads (Lucent was on my shoulder), then tucked the wings in, did a somersault in the air, and came down for a landing on the hood of another car. Once there, he spun back to face us, standing up on his hindlegs to wave frantically with his front paws. ¡°Nice to meet you!¡±


    Pushing off my shoulder, Lucent flew down to land on the car next to Qwerty. ¡°Ahem, tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, my boy. You are¡­¡± He paced in a circle around the parrot-squirrel, clearly marveling a bit. ¡°You are a Wonder.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he is pretty wonderful,¡± I agreed reflexively.


    Lucent, however, shook his head. ¡°No--well yes, of course. But I was referring to his combination of animal traits. A TONI who is two or more animals combined into a single being of a single mind is known as a Wonder. They are¡­ not common.¡±


    Qwerty, for his part, beamed proudly and puffed his colorful chest up. ¡°You hear that, everybody? I¡¯m rare!¡±


    ¡°We could¡¯ve told you that,¡± Paige pointed out while emerging from the van with a quick glance around that told me she wasn¡¯t all that comfortable even standing here in the parking lot. ¡°You¡¯re one-of-a-kind, Qwer.¡± Addressing Lucent while clearly trying not to look anywhere else in this place, she added, ¡°But he needs like¡­ a license or a badge or something, right?¡±


    ¡°Why bother?¡± That was Murphy, also coming out of the van. ¡°Seems like it¡¯d be better to operate under the radar, you know? What¡¯s the government gonna do if they find out about him besides try to control him, tax him, and blame him for shit he didn¡¯t do?¡± Her eyes flicked toward Lucent before she added an unconvincing, ¡°No offense, dude.¡±


    ¡°I shall take the remark in the spirit with which it was intended,¡± Lucent assured her. ¡°The desire to protect a friend from those who may mean him harm. But yes, there are very good reasons for a TONI to be registered. It ensures we are given all the rights of a citizen of this country, the precise power of which may waver now and then, but there is a vast gulf of difference between the rights of a sapient citizen and those of a wild animal. The latter, for instance, cannot generally own property. Among other benefits. Wild TONIs do exist, of course. But I am afraid their lives, particularly within a city, are not to be envied. There are those who intentionally seek out unregistered TONIs for the thrill of hunting human-intelligent creatures.¡±


    ¡°Wha--that¡¯s still a crime though, isn¡¯t it?¡± I snapped reflexively as Qwerty made a noise of distress at the very idea. ¡°I mean, registered or not, it¡¯d still be murder.¡±


    ¡°It would, yes,¡± Lucent confirmed. ¡°But if one is unregistered, it is much harder to both identify that such a crime has occurred, and to prove it in court. TONIs who insist on not coming forward, who carry on their existences secretly in order to avoid any attention, are difficult for law enforcement and court officers to prove sapient after the fact. The best way to do so is to show the lives they lived and introduce witnesses who knew them. But if they were remaining under the radar¡­ those may be difficult to produce. Particularly reliable ones. And yet, despite being difficult to legally prove sapient, those who hunt them lack such requirements. They are very good at identifying animals that show just a little too much intelligence, who live just a little too much like humans. Those wild TONIs tend to become little more than a statistic.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna be a statistic!¡± Qwerty blurted quickly. ¡°I wanna be Wonderful!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we have to make sure everyone knows how wonderful you are,¡± I agreed with a small smile despite myself. I knew what Lucent was doing. It wasn¡¯t about scaring Qwerty with horror stories or anything. It was about making sure we all understood how dangerous life could be out there for all TONIs, let alone one as small and vulnerable as a parrot-squirrel. He was telling us, without just outright saying it, that we needed to look out for the little guy. Not that we wouldn¡¯t have done that anyway, but still. I understood why Lucent would want to reinforce the idea.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I wanted him to talk to you,¡± I added after we¡¯d all had a chance to absorb that. ¡°We just met him recently and um, he needs to do all that legal stuff. We were hoping you could help with that. Or maybe just point us in the right direction? I mean, I know you¡¯ve got a lot going on, especially right now. It¡¯s just not fair to make him wait, so if you could just tell us where to go to get started with that?¡±


    ¡°I shall do far more than that,¡± Lucent insisted. ¡°¡®Twould be quite the moral and personal failing to stand aside and leave you unaided in this task, no matter what other distractions may exist. And, as it happens, I keep the paperwork for such filings in my office here at the compound, just in case. Unless you have anything else requiring your immediate attention?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I replied quickly as Qwerty and the others looked to me. ¡°We¡¯re ready to do whatever it takes to make him a legal person.¡± Besides, maybe this would distract me a bit from worrying about how Amber was doing, and the fact that I wouldn¡¯t be allowed to see Izzy for awhile.


    Paige, on the other hand, didn¡¯t want to stick around that place any more. So, after getting several more assurances from me that I was fine now, she headed out along with Murphy, Roald, Rubi, and Sierra. Meanwhile, I wasn¡¯t sure how poor Qwerty would react if he got too bored with the whole filling out paperwork thing, so Wren, Peyton, and I accompanied him into the building with Lucent. I was going to send Wren with the others, but she insisted on coming along to help. And considering how much the poor kid got left out of other things by being stuck in the workshop, who was I to deny her? If she got bored, we¡¯d find something else for her to do.


    Except, as it turned out, she didn¡¯t get bored with paperwork at all. In fact, she was the only one of us who didn''t. Seriously, there was so much to write on all these forms. The stack of them had to be over two inches thick, and most of them had a bunch of small print. They wanted to know just about everything possible about a new TONI, from the species (and there were about three more pages for the whole being a combination of multiple animals thing), to when they touched, any human who might try to claim ownership of them (they couldn''t legally, but there was still a whole process for dealing with that), to a physical description, chosen name, estimated level of implanted education, and more. It just went on and on. Even Qwerty got bored with answering the questions and started playing with the tape measure and scale we used to record his size. Which was eight inches long from his nose to the start of his tail, plus seven inches of tail. From the tip of one wing to the tip of the other was just over twelve inches, and he weighed about six ounces. All of which we had to record about twenty-five or so different times on various sections of these forms. Among many, many other questions. Qwerty enjoyed answering them at first, including giving some details we had made up ahead of time to ensure that people would think he had Touched here rather than in Utah. Which--I did feel bad about lying to Lucent on that point, but I didn¡¯t want to put him in the position of having to lie to his superiors. Even if we could convince him, and that would¡¯ve required telling him a lot more than¡­ yeah. But maybe we should have told him. Maybe we should¡¯ve told him everything. It was a thought that occurred to me more than once through that whole long and excruciatingly boring time. Giving myself carpal tunnel by writing the same answers over and over again would be a really terrible way to get a permanent injury, wouldn¡¯t it?


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    And yet, through it all, Wren didn''t seem bothered. If anything, she was enjoying herself, very neatly filling in the answers with the best handwriting I''d seen from anyone who wasn''t a grown adult. And, honestly, better than most of those as well. The kid seemed to genuinely enjoy filling out endless paperwork, even when she had to write in the same answers over and over again. There were forms for over a dozen different organizations, all of which had their own systems. And they couldn¡¯t just communicate with one another of course. Because that would be too easy. They all needed separate files, each of which had questions that were phrased very slightly differently so if you weren''t paying attention from one to the next you might misread it and write in the wrong thing. Which, of course, would fuck up the whole process. It was mind numbing in a way that almost made me want to get into another fight just so I could punch something.


    Peyton tapped out first, falling on the floor with a groan. We were in Lucent¡¯s office, which looked like any other office aside from the fact that the desk was clearly set up for a bird, from the wooden perch where a chair would normally be, to the large keyboard with each row of letters spaced far enough apart for him to stand and walk between them so he could peck at the keys. Lying there with her marbles forming a short wall around her, but the girl lamented, ¡°I can''t do it. I can''t write anymore. I helped one of my friends apply for college with financial aid and it didn''t take this many forms.¡±


    ¡°They are rather thorough,¡± Lucent agreed while pacing back and forth in front of his large computer keyboard to peck at a few buttons. ¡°Though to be entirely honest, in most cases, these forms would be filled out over a period of a couple weeks, and she would not have them all at once. We are, for lack of a better term, cheating the process by filling everything out at once. Once we are finished here, we can take them directly to the judge to be approved. I have a friend who has already cleared a few minutes in her schedule.¡±


    Of course, that made me feel guilty about being bored. Lucent was doing a lot to help us out. And this was for Qwerty, damn it.


    No, the truth was that it had nothing to do with the boring and repetitive paperwork. I was just worried about Amber and Izzy, both for different reasons. I had checked my phone several times, but there was no word from Amber. Which, again, wasn''t surprising. But it still made me anxious. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Physically, at least. I was pretty sure she wouldn¡¯t be mentally okay for awhile. But we had no idea how the fight with Whamline had gone other than the fact she ended up winning and he ended up dead. Sure, she was in good enough shape to leave with Pack, but¡­


    Yeah, okay, I was just worried in general. I knew she needed space right now, and time to figure things out. I just hoped she knew I¡¯d be there to talk when and if she needed to. No matter what else was going on. God knew she¡¯d been there enough for me.


    Finally, a few minutes after Peyton essentially curled into a ball and protested that she couldn''t ever look at another pen again in her life, we finished the whole stack of papers. Once the last one was done, I dropped the pen I¡¯d been using and sat back with a groan. ¡°I know why they all need this information, but is there some reason why we can¡¯t just fill out one form and have all of them share it in their computer files?¡±


    ¡°My dear boy,¡± Lucent noted with a mix of amusement and regret, ¡°if each of these dozen separate agencies were capable of seamless communication and sharing of resources, the world would be in much better shape indeed.¡± He focused on Qwerty then. ¡°Before we continue this endeavor toward official citizenship, do you have anything you¡¯d like to ask me?¡±


    Oh boy did he ever. Qwerty instantly launched into an extended list of all the questions he had, which ranged from relevant bits such as if he could own property like a car or if he had to go to school, to what cheesecake tasted like, to what Lucent¡¯s favorite movie was, to whether Lucent had ever tried blueberries, to whether the Minority people were okay after we¡¯d saved them, to how many other TONIs he knew, to whether he wanted to play Checkers, to insisting Monopoly was a better game, to admitting he only said that because he liked to tear up the cards and fake money to fill a nest, and so on.


    All of that came out in a short amount of time, before I picked the little guy up gently. ¡°Okay, alright, let¡¯s get this show on the road, shall we? Uh, we¡¯re going over to the courthouse to get this stuff signed off, right?¡±


    Lucent, however, shook his head. ¡°My dear friend has agreed to see you at her home, as it happens. There is a car waiting to transport us there as we speak, if you are all prepared?¡±


    Wren bounced to her feet, absolutely not at all affected by spending the past hour filling out endless forms. ¡°We get to meet a judge?! I never met a judge before! Wait, yes I did, back at the court thing before those jerks attacked the place and took all those hostages cuz they were trying to break into Ten Towers!¡± The poor kid was clearly a bit overly excited about actually being out and interacting with people. She was cooped up way too much. Not to mention overworked, if the idea of simply filling out papers and going to meet a judge excited her this much.


    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s hope that doesn¡¯t happen again,¡± I murmured, both about the courthouse thing and about my own thoughts toward Wren being cooped up and overworked for too long. Then I blanched with a glance toward Lucent. ¡°I mean--sorry, I¡¯m sure your friend is fine at home like that.¡±


    Judging from the look the raven-Touched gave, he was well aware of what I was actually thinking. At least the bits involving Wren. ¡°We shall all endeavor to the best of our ability to keep those we care for safe and secure.¡± Then he added, ¡°And along our way, I shall also endeavor to answer each of Sir Qwerty¡¯s fascinating inquiries.¡±


    Which he did. As we made our way to the Seraphs car that was waiting and then drove a couple miles into the city to find the judge¡¯s house (with me texting Paige and the others to let them know what we were doing), Lucent carefully answered every single question Qwerty had asked, one at a time. He made no distinction between what was ¡®important¡¯ and what was ¡®frivolous,¡¯ simply taking each in the exact order it had been asked. Through it all, the little squirrel-parrot seemed to hang on every word. From the look of things, he was practically hero-worshiping the other TONI. Which, yeah, why wouldn¡¯t he? My bird-papa was pretty damn great, after all.


    And speaking of which, I made sure to take a picture of the two of them together, and a selfie with both of them with me in it as well. Then I posted those on the SPHERE forum to let people know I was hanging out with my bird-dad and that we had a new friend. Part of which was just to show off Qwerty and to play up the fun little thing with Lucent, but it was also an attempt to try to show that things were as normal and in control as possible considering everything that was going on.


    Of course, it took approximately three seconds after I posted that before everyone on the SPHERE forum decided Qwerty was my little brother. And honestly, I was pretty okay with that.


    Eventually, we got to the judge¡¯s house and went through the whole introduction and explanation in person. Her name was Beverly Tolsen, and she was an elderly lady very close to retiring. She was also incredibly fascinated by Qwerty, and listened to all his extended and excited babbling with the raptness of a kindly grandmother.


    And, in the end, after we submitted all that paperwork and she looked it over with her reading glasses, initialing here and there, Judge Tolsen also turned out to be a wizard with computers. She took her laptop and scanned everything in, then sent the forms to the proper organizations along with her own sworn statement as to their authenticity, before typing out a Certificate Of Witnessed Sapience. Basically a TONI¡¯s version of a birth certificate.


    Holding the paper up for Qwerty to put his own inked paw print against, I smiled. ¡°See that, buddy? You¡¯re an officially documented person. You exist!¡±


    That was when I got a text on my own personal phone. It was from Simon. He wanted me to meet him at, of all places, the entrance into the Seraphs HQ. Clearly he was going to take me to visit Izzy. Which meant I would leave this judge¡¯s house, change back to my civilian clothes, then go to the same place I had been a few minutes ago but this time as Cassidy instead of Paintball. Hell, I might even run into Lucent again like that.


    Wait, ravens weren¡¯t known for their sense of smell, right?

 Non-Canon 30 - Operation Bookmark

    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    Five Years Ago


    As she sat in a medical examination room deep in the heart of the Seraphs headquarters, the small Biolem girl known as Paige gripped the edge of the bed she was perched on and tried to calm her thoughts down. She was so scared right then. She had been scared for so long. After running away from her father, she''d really had nowhere to go. The only other living person who had known who she was didn''t remember her anymore. Cassidy''s memory had been erased, and Anthony was gone. She had no one left. No one, that was, aside from a father who wanted to punish her for exposing his plans to the people he was trying to hurt. He had been arrested, but that didn¡¯t mean she was safe. He had people out there who would follow his orders.


    She had been wandering the streets, trying to figure out what to do, when several of those very people found her. They tried to take her in, but she stopped them. She killed them. And before she could leave the area, before she could recover from the injuries they¡¯d managed to inflict on her in the process, those Seraphs people had found her. They brought her here, and now she wasn''t sure what to do next.


    In her exhaustion and confusion, she¡¯d even told them to find Cassidy. Thank God she hadn¡¯t said a last name. The thought of how Cassidy¡¯s parents would react to some girl who had been found in an alley surrounded by corpses asking for their daughter¡¯s help was¡­ bad. They¡¯d already had Cassie¡¯s memory erased once in an effort to ¡®protect her,¡¯ so who knew what lengths they would go to in a situation like this.


    On the other hand, maybe she should go to them. After all, she¡¯d told that Robert guy, anonymously though it was, about her father. Maybe if she told them the whole story, everything about her situation, they¡¯d believe her and help? Then she could even be with Cassie again, and they could go back to--


    No. Of course not. That would risk Cassidy finding out what they had done to her, and they wouldn¡¯t allow that. Nor would they want someone like Paige being around their daughter, after hearing about what she was. And if they knew what she was, they¡¯d just want to use her for their own schemes. Or worse, they¡¯d want to take her apart to find out how Benjamin Pittman had built her in the first place. Would they even see her as a real person? She didn¡¯t want to take that risk. She couldn¡¯t take that risk. Not with her own life and freedom in the balance. No, she had to do something else, but what?


    Lost in her own thoughts as she was, Paige almost missed the sound of someone approaching the door. No, multiple people, in fact. But the footsteps--those weren¡¯t the shoes of doctors, it sounded like heavy combat boots. If there were men wearing combat boots coming for her room, that could only mean one thing. She was in danger. No one wearing combat boots and walking directly toward that door could be coming for any good reason.


    Eyes darting around the room, Paige slipped off the bed. There was no window in here, not with the room being deep in the heart of the facility. The ventilation duct was about the size of a shoebox, so that was out. She had no cover and nowhere to go. Which meant she was going to have to fight again. As exhausted as she was, both mentally and physically, she had to do this. Her father¡¯s people had somehow managed to get inside the Seraphs building, and now they were coming to finish what they had started back in that alley. Unless she stopped them.


    Moving to the far side of the bed to keep that between her and the door, Paige snapped a hand out to yank a nearby lamp cord out of the wall. Another yank ripped the other end from the lamp itself, giving her the full length of cord to work with. It wasn¡¯t much, but with her combat programming, she could use the cord to help with leverage against much larger opponents. And as what appeared to be a twelve-year-old girl, basically every opponent was much larger. That was something at least, and in these tight confines, she needed all the advantages she could get. Even if she was quite a bit stronger than normal opponents tended to expect, anyone sent by her father would know what she was, and would be ready.


    Tensing when the boots (there were three pairs of them, she could tell now) stopped outside the room, Paige watched the doorknob. As soon as the men started to come through the door, she was going to have to act. Maybe she could take them by surprise if they weren¡¯t expecting her to be ready for them. Every advantage. She needed to--


    There was a sound, but it wasn¡¯t the doorknob turning. No, it was a voice, speaking up from further down the hall. It was too far away for even Paige¡¯s enhanced hearing to pick up, and she had been too out of it to hack into the security cameras--crap, why didn¡¯t she hack into the security cameras?! They were connected to wi-fi and that could¡¯ve told her a lot more about what was going on out there.


    Devoting some of her attention to fix that (though much slower than it would¡¯ve gone if that was the only thing she was focusing on), Paige strained her ears to listen. The voice spoke again, close enough now for her to pick up the words.


    ¡°--would¡¯ve heard about a dangerous prisoner being kept around here, you know? Especially one that requires so many large guns to escort.¡±


    It was a male voice, she could tell that much. And damn it, who told the Seraphs to keep such tight security on their camera systems? It was taking even longer to break through than she¡¯d thought. All she could do in the meantime was listen.


    ¡°I mean, are you sure you have the right room? I just came past the desk down the hall, and wouldn¡¯t you know it, dear old Lacey is asleep at her post. She¡¯s a sweet thing, she really is. But maybe getting a little close to retirement.¡± Now the voice was even closer, he had to be almost right in front of her father¡¯s men. ¡°Maybe the room you¡¯re looking for is the one two floors up? I seem to remember hearing something about a giant, incredibly disgusting distraction.¡±


    Even as Paige processed that last word, she heard the sound of a flurry of motion right there by the door. There were several pained grunts, a couple heavy thuds, and the sound of what had to be someone being hit by something very heavy in the face. Then a third heavy thud. It all happened in the course of about six seconds, followed by a moment of silence. That silence was broken by the creak of the doorknob turning.


    Only then, in that moment, did she finish hacking through the security measures and get access to the cameras. Which meant she could see a view from the hallway showing all three of her father¡¯s men (dressed as uniformed soldiers) lying haphazardly across the floor. As well as a view of the back of a man in an expensive black suit with slightly graying dark hair.


    At the same time, she could see the man from the front. He was a handsome figure. She was pretty sure the right word would be ¡®heartthrob.¡¯ But all she felt upon seeing him was confusion.


    From the look on the man¡¯s face, he hadn¡¯t known what to expect when he opened that door either. But he adjusted quickly enough. ¡°Well ahh, hey there. Something tells me you probably shouldn¡¯t hang around this place much longer, if what those guys were packing is any indication of how badly they want to bring you in. If you want, I¡¯ve got a place you can stay for awhile.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Eric Abbot, and my daughter Melissa would love to meet you.¡±


    *********


    Two Years Later/Three Years Ago


    ¡°Are you sure you want to do this?¡± Eric Abbot--known to the world as Blackjack, asked the now-fourteen-year-old Paige as the two of them stood in front of a large metal-reinforced door with an electronic keypad and retinal scan next to it. His face was much paler than usual, eyes burdened with dark circles. Even then, he still asked despite how high the stakes were.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°It¡¯s Melissa,¡± Paige replied simply, as though he needed the reminder. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything to help her. She¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s my sister.¡± That was true in both a figurative and literal way, given the legal adoption Abbot had managed to put together.


    ¡°And you¡¯re both my daughters,¡± he agreed in a somewhat shaky voice. Melissa being sick, getting Rot Bone, it¡­ it hurt him more than almost anything else could have. His wife was gone, Melissa was the only blood relative he had left. She was his biological daughter, the one he had brought up from birth. The only tie he still had to the wife he had lost.


    Paige couldn¡¯t let this happen. She couldn¡¯t let Melissa die. Abbot had taken her fully into his family and home, had trusted her with everything ever since that day when he saved her from Pittman¡¯s men. Melissa was his baby and her sister in every way that mattered. No matter how afraid she was, no matter how worried she might¡¯ve been about how this would go, she had to do everything she could to save her sister.


    To that end, she gave her adopted father a firm nod of acceptance. This was the only way. No matter how risky it was, they had to do it.


    Rather than immediately move to open the door, he pulled her into an embrace, smiling down at her. ¡°When my power told me there was an opportunity if I stepped in back then, I had no idea just how hard it was working. I walked in there to talk about a business opportunity with an old friend, and I walked out with¡­¡± His hand rested on the top of her head, gently brushing her hair. ¡°With the other most important person in my life. Whatever happens, I promise, I won¡¯t allow anything bad to happen to you.¡±


    With that, he turned to allow the retinal scanner to see his eye. As the door began to hiss open, the man touched something at the back of his neck. Immediately, his familiar black helmet with a golden mask shaped like a face expanded into view.


    At the same time, Paige touched a spot on her own neck and a similar helmet and mask expanded and slid into place. Hers, however, was blue with a white face mask. These would allow the two to conceal their identities from the person waiting in the room ahead of them.


    The room itself looked like it was half medical lab and half auto repair garage, though a sparkling clean one. Standing near a table full of tools, its only occupant turned to face them. He was a shorter man, standing only five and a half feet tall, with a costume that appeared to consist of various pieces of robot parts stuck randomly over his body, while a metal ball with a radiator-like grill across the front and several antennae sticking out in random directions served as his helmet.


    This was Rotwang, from the Braintrust gang. His particular specialty lay in creating and working with robots. Which made him the best possible choice they had in this case. Even if he wouldn¡¯t have been Blackjack or Paige¡¯s first choice of which member of Braintrust to work with. They didn¡¯t have a lot of options.


    The man himself took the two of them in. ¡°Ah, this the girl you were talking about?¡±


    ¡°This is my daughter,¡± Blackjack confirmed. ¡°Which I¡¯m certain means you understand what will happen if word about any of this leaves this room.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, you made that clear,¡± Rotwang replied with a wave of his hand. ¡°Like I said before, just keep paying me and it¡¯ll all stay between us. The thing about making robots is parts are expensive. Especially if you want to make anything good. And for the amount you¡¯re paying, I can afford a lot of good parts.¡±


    Blackjack gave a short nod. ¡°And that is why we agreed to this specific payment plan. Do your job, keep your mouth shut about it, and you¡¯ll continue to be compensated for quite a long time. Not to mention the access to certain other benefits we¡¯ve agreed upon.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± Rotwang gestured with one hand, the metal parts across his costume clanging a bit. ¡°If I¡¯m going to do this, I need to see what we¡¯re working with.¡±


    Paige exchanged a glance with Blackjack, waiting until he gave a reassuring nod. She trusted him, trusted his power. It would be working overtime to ensure that nothing happened. He wouldn¡¯t leave the room or take his eyes off her the entire time. Which didn¡¯t mean she wasn¡¯t nervous, even afraid. But this was for Melissa, so it was worth any amount of fear.


    Returning the older man¡¯s nod, Paige took a step forward, then turned her back to the Tech-Touched. There was already a hole cut in the back of her shirt, exposing bare skin, which had a square dotted line drawn in marker to indicate precisely where the man should cut to access her orb, the thing that made Paige who she was.


    And the thing which, with the help of one of the only men in town who had any possible chance of understanding Pittman¡¯s tech, was going to save Melissa¡¯s life.


    *********


    Two And A Half Years Later/Six Months Ago


    The noise of shoes squeaking along the gymnasium floor filled the room, as two figures went sprinting in a wide circle. Both were laughing as they ran together, the sound bringing a small smile to the face of Eric Abbot as he watched them from the sidelines. He wore much more casual clothes than his people were accustomed to seeing him in, consisting of crisp jeans, a red turtleneck, and a levi jacket. Keeping his hands resting comfortably in the pockets of that jacket, he called out. ¡°Okay girls, let¡¯s run those diagnostics!¡±


    Eric watched then, as his daughters halted their run and approached. Paige, now approaching seventeen by their reckoning, walked alongside her slightly pale, brown-haired sister. This was Melissa now. A Melissa who walked without crutches, who could run and jump and fall without any worry of hurting herself. A Melissa who wasn¡¯t suffering and lonely, but out in the world she had been stuck watching from her window for so long. And not alone, but with a girl who had become her real sister over these past¡­ almost five years.


    This was a Melissa whose brain had been uploaded into a brand new brain-ball. That was what Rotwang, whose talent for naming things incredibly poorly apparently extended beyond himself, insisted on calling the Biolem orbs. It had taken years of work and literal millions of dollars of research, not to mention plenty of bribes to get other scientists to do work they didn¡¯t know the purpose of, to get this far. But it was finally done. This was Melissa¡¯s first full day in her new permanent body. Her mind had been temporarily placed in the brain-ball a couple times before, so they could test it while the gradually-assembled body had been under construction. But now the transfer was complete. Her new body was working perfectly, from all appearances.


    Yes, having Pittman himself do the work would have been faster. But not only was he out of reach on Breakwater, if he had been close enough to do this, he also would have been close enough for Eric to cut his filthy throat. And the man who had taken Paige as his own daughter just wasn¡¯t sure he could avoid that temptation.


    Besides, they couldn¡¯t have trusted him anyway. No, Benjamin Pittman was better off rotting on that island forever. Eric had made certain to scour the entire state for any more of his people or labs, using all the information Paige had been able to provide about how to identify and track them. They were like cockroaches, infesting a dozen different buildings.


    Even now, he wasn¡¯t certain that all of Pittman¡¯s little puppets were completely gone. But at the very least, the man¡¯s ability to do anything was at a minimum. And any time they did pop up again, Blackjack and his people would be ready to deal with them. He had already informed the Evans¡¯ about the situation as well, in general terms (he didn¡¯t tell them about who Paige was or where his information came from, and definitely did not tell them about the girl¡¯s history with their daughter). They knew enough to help keep an eye on things so none of them would be taken by surprise if one of Pittman¡¯s plots did manage to get off the ground.


    By that point, Paige and Melissa had reached him and stood there. Neither were panting, even after sprinting several times around the full gym. Melissa was grinning at him, the eight-year-old literally bouncing up and down on her feet. ¡°Did you see me, Dad? Did you see me?!¡±


    ¡°I saw!¡± With a wide grin, Eric took a knee in front of them, holding up the scanning device (it looked like a handheld dustbuster vacuum with a computer screen). ¡°Work before play, let¡¯s see.¡±


    Melissa groaned, but obediently held her arms out to either side and stood patiently while he ran the scanner all the way over her. Then he did the same for Paige, just so Melissa would feel like they were both in this together. And they were. They had become sisters in a real, tangible way, years after becoming sisters in every other way.


    Reading the scans as they came up, Eric shook his head. ¡°Bad news, girls. Turns out you¡¯re definitely healthy enough to go to lunch with me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not bad news, that¡¯s good news!¡± Melissa insisted.


    ¡°Maybe for you, but I¡¯ve seen how much food the two of you can put away!¡± Eric put a hand to his chest and slumped backward as though faint. ¡°I¡¯ll be in the poor house if I have to feed both of you in a restaurant! We¡¯ll have to take out second jobs!¡±


    The girls groan-laughed and assaulted him with light swats, until he rose and they all headed for the door. Or started to, anyway. With his hand in Melissa¡¯s, Eric looked back upon realizing the other girl wasn¡¯t there. She had stopped to stare at the spot where they had just been standing together. ¡°Paige, is something wrong?¡±


    There was a brief pause as she stood with her back to them, then the girl turned and he saw her blinking moisture out of her eyes. Her head shook, voice catching slightly as she walked back over. Her hand took his free one, squeezing it. ¡°No, everything¡¯s fine.


    ¡°In fact, it¡¯s pretty damn good, Dad.¡±

 Acceptance 29-04

    So, for the second time in short order, I found myself at the entrance into the Seraphs¡¯ hospital compound. This time I was going as a complete civilian, and kept telling myself that I wasn''t supposed to know where anything was around here, or who people were. Oh, and I had to act like I was overwhelmed about being in a place as amazing as this. On top of all that, I wasn''t supposed to know what had happened to Izzy just yet. Which meant I was going to have to act as though Simon telling me was my first indication that anything was wrong, and react accordingly. But not too over the top.


    If it ever got to the point where all our secrets were out, or at least mine, maybe I could see if I could be granted any free acting credits in a drama course. It certainly felt like I had earned them by this point. Then again, if people actually got what they¡¯d earned, Pencil would be in an anonymous unmarked grave somewhere rather than holed up in an apartment building keeping a bunch of innocent people hostage because he was worried about his sister. Hell, to that end, this whole bio-attack wouldn''t have happened. So maybe thinking about what people had earned wasn''t very helpful.


    Hearing my name called by a familiar voice while I was standing next to the guard (one I knew by name as Paintball) at the gate, I forced those thoughts out of my mind and turned to face my brother as he approached. ¡°Dude!¡± I injected clueless enthusiasm into my voice. ¡°Don''t tell me you went and started volunteering here. I know Mom said you really needed to get some charity work on your record, but I figured you''d find a way to turn attending some basketball games with little kids into your service credit.¡±


    I really hoped I wasn''t laying it on too thick. I just didn''t want to give any impression that I knew something was wrong. Yes, I officially knew that Izzy was Raindrop, but it wasn''t like the news had announced that they had been kidnapped and drugged. Besides, I didn''t monitor the news constantly anyway. As far as Simon knew, I had just been out skating when he sent me the message. I was certainly dressed for the occasion, wearing tennis shoes, baggy shorts, long socks with built-in shin protection, a baggy jersey, and knee and elbow pads. Different ones than what I wore as Paintball, of course. My helmet, which was also different and only meant to cover the top of my head instead of my full face, was tucked under my arm. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like I had been at the park doing some tricks and came right over here. I was even quite sweaty and dirty, a fact I had apologized for to the rideshare driver who had brought me here. I made sure to tip him extra for that.


    Simon took a moment, clearly trying to decide how much to say while we were right there by the guard. In the end, he offered a somewhat forced smile, though one that was probably made easier by Izzy being given that cure. I couldn''t even imagine how he would have given me the news if she had been in the same condition as Mom and Dad. On the other hand, I didn''t think I could pretend to be this clueless in that case. ¡°Hey, Booster,¡± he greeted me before gesturing. ¡°Come on, let''s take a walk. I''ve gotta show you something. Better if you see it for yourself, it¡¯s really cool.¡± To his credit, his voice barely cracked at all with that. If I hadn¡¯t known him so well, and known the situation he was disguising right now, I probably wouldn¡¯t even have noticed.


    Pretending I had no idea what he was about to show me, I waved at the guard and followed my brother in through the gate. I was looking around the whole time, head craning to stare at the buildings around us like I was a tourist. I would¡¯ve taken my phone out for pictures, but that probably would¡¯ve been a little too much. ¡°Holy shit, the actual, real Seraph hospital compound. I didn¡¯t-- Wait, this isn''t some sort of trick to show me all the hurt people around here just so you can scare me away from skating, is it?¡±


    Simon snorted. ¡°You know, now that you mention it, that''s not a bad idea. But no, come here.¡± Taking my wrist, he pulled me off the sidewalk and over behind a nearby tree for some privacy. Looking around, seemingly to make sure we weren''t being watched, he spoke quietly. ¡°Cassidy, you can''t freak out right now. It''s okay. She''s okay. You understand? Stay calm and just know that she''s safe and she¡¯ll be completely fine.¡±


    Okay, I couldn¡¯t pretend to be that clueless. He¡¯d start to wonder if I had some sort of head injury. It was time to really go for the gold. Wait, did acting have go--never mind. I made my eyes widen dramatically, as though the realization had just come to me. Taking a step back, I turned to look around quickly, this time without any touristy motivations. ¡°Izzy. Izzy, where is she? What happened? She was fighting someone, wasn''t she? Was it the Scions? Is she okay--what--how did she--why is she--¡±


    Simon caught my hand again and pulled me back. His grip was gentle yet firm. ¡°Cassidy, Cassie, listen to me. She''s okay. I''m gonna tell you what happened, what we know anyway. But first, she''s been given a cure. So she''s alright. She''s conscious and we''re going to go visit her. You¡¯ll see her in just a minute, but you have to keep yourself under control. Take a breath and let me fill you in, okay?¡±


    My mouth opened and shut a couple times as I acted like the completely overwhelmed, worried, and shocked girl I figured I would¡¯ve been if I genuinely didn¡¯t know any of this stuff. Especially with our parents being in their condition. That had to make this whole thing even worse. Still, I didn¡¯t play it up too much before visibly swallowing as my head jerked a few times in an anxious nod. ¡°Just tell me, please.¡±


    So, he did. Well, at least as much as he could while acting like he hadn¡¯t actually personally been there. Come to think of it, that was kind of funny, wasn''t it? In a dark way, at least. We had both been there and knew exactly what happened, but he was pretending he had heard about this whole situation second-hand and was just relaying what he had been told, while I was acting like I didn''t know anything about it at all.


    Simon told me that Izzy and the rest of the Minority had been betrayed by Whamline when he decided to join the Scions, and that they had been drugged with some sort of prototype version of what our parents had been given. But he immediately and firmly assured me that the stuff wasn''t as potent as what had been used before, and that someone had produced a cure for it already. Actually, he told me that Paintball had given the authorities the cure, though no one knew exactly where he¡¯d found it. Which added a whole new layer to this performance I was putting on, when I gushed about how lucky we were that Paintball had had the cure. I tried not to lay it on too thick, and ignored the awkwardness that came from praising myself. It was all just weird. But I pushed that aside and focused on playing like Paintball was amazing for helping our sister. With, of course, a very light bit of wondering where he had found it.


    Wait, come to think of it, that was yet another layer to this conversation. Simon was talking about Paintball, who was secretly me, having a mysterious cure. A cure Paintball had been given by Simon. But I wasn¡¯t supposed to know that, and he had to-- yeah it was all just deception after deception.


    Simon, for his part, simply shrugged. ¡°Heroes have ways of finding things. I guess we should just be grateful for it, because if he hadn¡¯t--¡± He visibly stopped himself from continuing, a slight grimace crossing his face. ¡°He did. He gave the authorities the cure, and it worked. He¡¯s a good kid, and Izzy¡¯s okay. She¡¯s conscious now. So you wanna go see her?¡±


    I confirmed that I absolutely did, so Simon walked with me over to an unmarked building. It wasn¡¯t the one that Izzy was in, as far as I knew. But I pushed that out of my mind as we passed a couple guards and orderlies and walked through a confusing maze of narrow corridors until we reached the back of the building, where we stepped on an elevator.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Here.¡± Simon passed me a ski mask, which confused me briefly. ¡°Put that on so no one recognizes you until we¡¯re actually in the room. We have to keep Izzy¡¯s identity secret, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hehe, I thought we were about to rob the place.¡± With that weak joke, I stared at the mask. Now this was even more unnerving and awkward. I was going in there as Cassidy, but wearing a mask. One that wasn¡¯t too unlike the one I wore under my helmet as Paintball. Damn it, everything was just getting so blurred and¡­ and weird. Also please God don¡¯t let Simon notice how much I looked like Paintball when my face was covered.


    But, with a deep breath, I pulled the mask on just as the elevator stopped. Simon had already donned his own, and we stepped out into an underground tunnel. Right, of course there were tunnels between these buildings. This way no one who wasn¡¯t supposed to know who Raindrop was would see Simon and Cassidy Evans walk into the building where all the Minority people were being tended to.


    We walked through the tunnel, while I took a moment to pretend I was super-enthused about all the cloak and dagger secrecy stuff. ¡°When Mom and Dad wake up, we have to tell them about this. Dad¡¯s gonna be so jealous that we got to go through a secret tunnel to visit Izzy, and--wait, you¡¯re sure she¡¯s okay?¡± I allowed a hint of nervousness to jump into my voice.


    ¡°She¡¯s awake and talking, so yeah,¡± Simon confirmed. ¡°They just want to keep her until they¡¯re sure there¡¯s no residual effects or anything.¡±


    Keeping my thoughts about that to myself, I followed my brother down the tunnel to one of the other doors. There was a man standing outside, but he simply nodded as we approached and gestured for us to go in. ¡°Third floor, then follow the same directions you used before.¡± He was addressing Simon there, clearly. ¡°Don¡¯t press any other buttons, go through any other doors, or talk to anyone outside of your designated area. If they talk to you, report them at the desk. But they won¡¯t. We know better.¡±


    Sure enough, the door there led onto another elevator, and Simon hit the button for the third floor. There were a few people in the hallway that led us to, but as promised, none of them spoke to us. They didn''t even really look at us aside from a glance here or there to make sure they weren¡¯t about to walk into us. It seemed like they had been extensively trained not to pay attention to people coming off that elevator. There were a lot of secrets being kept around here. So the two of us probably fit right in.


    Simon steered me through another maze of corridors. I thought about making a joke about him getting both of us so lost in here we¡¯d end up arrested for accidentally stumbling across one of their other secrets, but the words died on my lips. I really didn¡¯t feel like trying to be funny just then. This whole situation was just too awkward. And I had to pretend it wasn¡¯t awkward, which was just worse. But at least I had the excuse of being worried about Izzy to explain my silence.


    Speaking of Izzy, we found our way through those corridors to the room where she was staying. She was already out of her costume and dressed in the normal hospital gown, and when the two of us came in, she was holding up a cup of orange-ish jello while staring at it doubtfully. ¡°I think it¡¯s Cheeto flavored. Is that a thing?¡±


    ¡°Izzy!¡± I quickly dove that way, plucking the jello out of her hand and setting it aside before embracing her. Belatedly I remembered to take the mask off, dropping it haphazardly before returning to the hug. ¡°Are you okay? What--I mean are you really okay? Simon said something about Whamline being a bad guy and there was some sort of situation with the whole Scions thing and--but you didn¡¯t get anywhere near the real Scions, right? I mean they¡¯re locked up in that apartment building and I don¡¯t think you were in there but I¡¯m not sure how that all went down and--and--and¡­¡± Leaning back, I stared at her like I had absolutely no idea what was going on. ¡°You¡¯re alright?¡±


    Izzy¡¯s head bobbed quickly as she returned the embrace. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Cass, I promise. I didn¡¯t even feel anything, not really.¡± She offered me an awkward, self-conscious shrug. ¡°I was asleep for basically all of it. I didn¡¯t help. I didn¡¯t even--¡± A dark, annoyed grimace crossed her face as she looked away from me. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what happened until someone in here told me after I woke up. I was useless.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you are never useless.¡± That was Simon, moving to sit on the opposite side of the bed before putting his hand on her shoulder. ¡°Do you have any idea how many people¡¯s lives you¡¯ve saved since you started being Raindrop? Because I had some nerd at my university do the math--¡± He stopped and held up both hands as we both squinted at him. ¡°Hey, they like being called nerds now, it''s not an insult. Anyway, I paid him to do the math, and it''s up in the high hundreds if not thousands. Depends on how much you interpret as an immediate effect. You know, the way people you save have helped others and so on. The point is, you¡¯ve saved a lot of people. Just because you got jumped from behind by a fucking psychopath traitor doesn¡¯t change that.¡±


    ¡°He''s right,¡± I put in with a gentle nudge. ¡°You''re out there making both of us look bad. Come on, you¡¯re a full-fledged superhero and the two of us are basically nothing but spoiled trust fund babies.¡± I managed to get that out with a straight face, though I couldn''t look at Simon in the process. ¡°If you keep this up, we might have to get jobs or something just to keep up with you so we don''t look like completely useless lumps.¡±


    ¡°Hey now, let''s not go crazy,¡± Simon teased. ¡°I happen to like being a useless lump. Maybe you could just take it easy and try donating your allowance to charity or something. You know, so you feel like you contributed.¡±


    ¡°Oh just my allowance, huh?¡± I shot back while making a face at him. Which made him give an even weirder face back at me, and I couldn¡¯t help but snicker before stretching my eyes out while making a weird combination Wookiee/garbage disposal noise that even I didn¡¯t know how I did it. Then Izzy made a weird face of her own, and we all started laughing. Simon yanked me by the hand just so he could tickle me, then used my body to pin Izzy¡¯s arms down so he could tickle her too. We countered and teamed up together to yank him down, and it all devolved from there.


    Eventually, we just started talking again, then all sat together on the same bed to watch a movie on the big TV in the corner. It was one we had all seen before, but that didn''t really matter. The three of us were together, and I forgot all about the crazy extra stuff for a little while. I forgot about the Ministry and superheroes, and just focused on being there with my brother and sister. It was¡­ nice. Better than I expected.


    After a couple hours of that, Simon had to leave to go do something. Maybe it was Ministry stuff, or maybe he just needed to get out of there. It didn''t really matter, not right then. To be honest, I didn¡¯t care. All that other stuff could wait.


    Izzy and I stayed on the bed like that, watching an old episode of some cartoon. We didn''t dare talk about all the things we needed to, not knowing for certain whether any of this was being monitored or recorded. It wasn''t worth the risk. There¡¯d be time to get into all that later. For now, all that mattered was hanging out and vegging, even if we had to do it in what amounted to a hospital bed.


    The nurse came in a few times through all that to check on Izzy and take recordings, of course. She was one of the few people in this place who was cleared to know Raindrop¡¯s real identity. And she was really nice, even to the point of bringing us both some non-Cheeto flavored jello.


    By the time a couple more episodes of that show were over, Izzy had slumped down with her head nestled into my shoulder. I didn¡¯t want to move and disturb her, so I just lowered the volume with the nearby remote and lay there, half-watching the next show and half just¡­ zoning out. I wasn¡¯t thinking about anything in particular. Maybe it was weird to see just laying there as some sort of vacation, but after the past¡­ God knew how many days, it really was.


    Later, I would think about all that other stuff that we needed to do. I would worry about where Amber was, how Bobby was doing, what was going to happen with Pencil and the other Scions, how the Minority was going to recover from that betrayal, and¡­ and all of it. I would worry about it then. But for now, for this moment, I was here with my sister.


    And that was enough.

 Acceptance 29-05

    Well, at least there was some good news as far as the whole Scions situation was concerned. Of the seven candidates they¡¯d had lined up to fill their ranks with, all had either been apprehended or, in Whamline¡¯s case¡­ killed. And one of the actual Scions, Box, had been taken in as well. Eight psychopaths had been taken off the board before they could do nearly as much damage as they were capable of.


    Honestly, yeah, that whole thing wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as it could¡¯ve been. The very fact that they¡¯d had seven ¡®new¡¯ Touched they could have unleashed on the city at this point could have been completely catastrophic. If they¡¯d all worked together at the same time, with Pencil actually directing them through all of it with his particular brand of callous evil? I didn¡¯t even want to think about how that would¡¯ve gone.


    Actually, I didn¡¯t want to think about how it would¡¯ve gone if those other two new Touched, Facs and Yeet, hadn¡¯t been around and escaped to come find me. Or if they had never been given the address of the shop, though at least in that case there were other options of people they could have gone to for help. There were just so many ways that this entire situation could have ended up being an indescribable tragedy, it made me shudder. What if I had never made it there? What if the Scions had actually managed to follow through on their intentions and I lost both my friend in Amber, and my brand new sister in Izzy? Oh God, and Eits and Pack too. They were there. They would¡¯ve--I would have lost all four of them. My friends and my sister. I would¡¯ve¡­ they¡­


    I didn¡¯t want to think about it. Unfortunately, my subconscious didn¡¯t tend to take my input into consideration when deciding what it would dwell on obsessively. So, for a long time after Izzy fell asleep, I did just that. I lay in that bed with her, not really watching what was on the television. Instead, I worried. I dwelled. I held my sister gently to avoid waking her up, closed my eyes, and imagined all the different ways everything that had happened today could have gone worse. I didn¡¯t want to, I tried not to, but it happened anyway. Fortunately, I was also exhausted, so I fell asleep at some point. And, miracle of miracles, I didn¡¯t have a nightmare about that.


    No, I dreamt about something very different. In this dream, I was a boy. An actual biological boy. And as Paintball, I posed as a girl, because people tended to mistake me for one. It was the complete opposite of the current situation. I used a voice changer to sound more feminine, my suit was¡­ ahh, slightly padded to give off that sort of impression, and I just embraced the disguise in general. Oh, and I had a cape. I wasn¡¯t sure what that was about or what it had to do with the whole being a boy thing. Maybe I just subconsciously wanted a cape or something.


    Either way, it was a very elaborate dream. Well, as elaborate as dreams could be. It still skipped a lot of details and bounced around through various scenes without much rhyme or reason. But the gist was there. I was a boy who posed as a girl to be Paintball. Toward the end, my family was yelling at me about being a boy. I had the impression that it was supposed to be a very dramatic moment, but I was mostly still confused about where they had come from, considering moments earlier I had been fighting some weird mix of Cu¨¦lebre, Juice, and my math teacher from Freshman year. The scene had shifted without any warning to jump straight to my family having a yelling match in our backyard, and it had something to do with me being a boy so I couldn¡¯t really be Paintball. Also there was a little bird that kept landing on my shoulder and pecking my arm while I was trying to have a serious conversation with my parents.


    Finally, my eyes opened as I gave a slight start. The thing poking up against my arm repeatedly wasn¡¯t a bird. It was the vertical blinds over the nearby window. There was a fan in a corner of the room, and every time it rotated a bit toward that window, the air caught the blinds and made them move. So a couple kept bouncing back to bump against my arm as it dangled off the bed.


    Well, that explained the whole bird poking thing. And I didn¡¯t really need that much help interpreting the rest of the dream. Understanding what to do with the information, yes, but not interpreting it. But either way, I wasn¡¯t going to get much more from laying there. All I would end up doing was wake up Izzy, and she needed her rest. Which--yes, it sounded odd to say that she needed to recover from a biological attack that had put her into a coma by sleeping, but still. The doctors had insisted that it was flushed out of her system and now her body just needed time to get back to normal.


    So, I very carefully extracted myself from her for the moment and slipped out of the room while looking at my phone. It was almost seven o¡¯clock at night on a Friday. Perfect for dating. As if I had any time for that, or anyone who was interested.


    Oh boy, yeah that was really a thought I¡¯d needed to have right then. Sighing softly, I slipped the phone into my pocket and closed the door quietly behind me so Izzy wouldn¡¯t be disturbed. For a moment, I just stood there in that hallway and took a deep breath. What was I supposed to do now, just go home? Something told me Simon was going to be busy with secret Ministry stuff for awhile, and it wasn¡¯t like our parents were there to wonder about me. I just¡­ I had to get out and do something else. I wasn¡¯t sure what, but something.


    At first I thought I¡¯d head over to Wren¡¯s shop to check in with the others, but I¡¯d barely made it off the Seraph grounds and started to request an Uber before belatedly realizing I was about to use my Touched phone for that instead of my personal phone. Before I could put that away and switch to the other one, I noticed a text that had come in about an hour earlier from an unknown number. It read, ¡®Mind having a chat? - Grateful Baseball Enthusiast.¡¯


    Eits. Eits wanted to chat, which meant he was awake and active again. A rush of relief ran through me, as I sent him a message apologizing for missing him earlier and letting him know we could meet somewhere if he wanted. Thankfully, he responded immediately and said we could get some dinner at this fast Italian place if I didn¡¯t mind showing up as a civilian. He promised he¡¯d be alone and that none of the other La Casa people knew where he was going or had any reason to follow. Apparently they were pretty focused on other things now that he and Broadway were out of the woods.


    So, I took an Uber after all. But instead of heading for the shop, I sent a message letting the others know I was up and would be around later, then gave the driver the address of that restaurant. It was probably a good thing anyway, my stomach was complaining at me. Especially now that the idea of food had been brought up.


    The restaurant really was a hole in the wall sort of place. It was a corner building with yellowish-white paint that was heavily chipped, and there was barely a sign for it. It wasn¡¯t even the restaurant¡¯s name or anything, the sign just said, ¡®Ristorante.¡¯ Italian for restaurant. Oh, and the entrance was literally just a simple white screen door like most people had on the front of their houses.


    Still, it was definitely the right place. I paid the driver and then stepped through that door. The restaurant was a bit bigger inside than it looked like from out front, but still not exactly huge. There was enough room for about ten booths, six to the left and four to the right, along with a bar straight ahead. Several of the tables to the left were full, but only one person was using any of the tables to the right. The person I was there to meet, as a matter of fact.


    ¡°Uh, hey Ryder,¡± I greeted him while moving to sit opposite the boy. This was weird, right? Yes, he knew who I really was, and he¡¯d done an incredible job of keeping that to himself. But still, I wasn¡¯t exactly sure why he wanted to meet.


    ¡°Hi, Cass,¡± he replied, holding out a menu. ¡°Get whatever you like, my treat.¡± Immediately after saying that, he amended, ¡°I mean, not that you really need that or anything. It¡¯s just that I invited you here so I should probably pay for the--I mean if you¡¯re hungry. Or if you even like Italian. This place is good. If you do, I mean. And then we can go--I mean we can get it to go. You know, so we can talk somewhere that isn¡¯t--I¡¯m gonna shut up now.¡± His face had turned more and more pink throughout that.


    Snickering despite myself, I gave him a slightly reassuring nod. ¡°Don''t worry, I like Italian just fine. Believe me, I couldn''t grow up with my mother and not like it. I would''ve died of starvation a long time ago.¡± Looking down, I muttered something under my breath about how that would¡¯ve solved a lot of my problems. Then I blanched at myself before quickly looking up once more to see the boy recoiling. ¡°Sorry, I didn''t mean that. There''s just a lot going on. Not that I have to tell you that.¡± We couldn¡¯t go into details right there, of course. But still, I asked, ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    His head bobbed quickly. ¡°Yup, right as rain.¡± Then he indicated the menu. ¡°You should try their lasagna, if you don¡¯t have anything else convincing you life is worth living, getting a chance to have more of that stuff should do the trick.¡±


    That was as good of a recommendation as any so we ordered a couple pieces of that plus drinks to go, before sitting there to wait for about ten minutes. We couldn¡¯t talk about anything serious or secret, so we ended up simply discussing that old cartoon I¡¯d been watching with Izzy earlier. It turned out Ryder had some opinions about how some popular sites shipped a couple of the characters together when (according to him), those particular ships didn¡¯t make any sense at all. I was barely a casual fan, so I mostly just listened while he went on an extensive diatribe about the whole thing. It was actually kind of funny to just sit there and hear him get worked up. And, to be honest, I was pretty sure he was hamming it up a bit just to make me snicker.


    But eventually we had our food, and made our way out. A few minutes later, the two of us used a fire escape to reach an old greenhouse on the roof of an apartment building. It didn¡¯t look like anyone had used this place for awhile, so we would have privacy here.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I started while digging my fork into the pile of cheese, sauce, meat, and noodles, ¡°so what¡¯s going on? What¡¯s the big--mmmmphhhmm¡­.¡± My eyes gave a double-take at the plastic container. ¡°Okay, you weren¡¯t kidding, that¡¯s incredible.¡± I took another bite and slumped back. ¡°Oooh, I needed this.¡±


    ¡°Told ya,¡± he replied with a smirk, before giving his own soft murmur of appreciation after his first bite. ¡°Wait, why did I want to talk to--oh right, well first I wanted to say thanks. You know, for helping save us from a terrible death. And the whole cure thing.¡±


    ¡°Well obviously if I¡¯d known you were gonna introduce me to the best lasagna in the state, I would¡¯ve insisted they cure you faster,¡± I informed him sagely before taking another incredible bite. ¡°Mmmph, damn, it¡¯s hard to be snarky when I just want to lay down on a bed-sized portion of this stuff and eat until I pass out.¡±


    ¡°I mean, if anyone could afford to buy something like that¡­¡± Ryder winked at me and coughed before pointing with his fork. ¡°Seriously though, I wouldn¡¯t be here to enjoy this if it wasn¡¯t for you. So thanks. I just keep owing you more, Cassidy Evans.¡±


    A blush found its way to my face before I shook my head. ¡°I had help, on both counts. Those two Touched, Facs and Yeet, they¡¯re the only reason I had any idea what was going on. And it was the Ministry who provided the cure, so¡­¡± I frowned at my food, but it couldn¡¯t last as I took another bite of ambrosia.


    Ryder shrugged. ¡°Guess I¡¯ve got a few people to thank, but you were at the top of the list. And¡­¡± He trailed off before sighing. ¡°I guess you haven¡¯t heard anything from Pack? I know she took off with That-A-Way, and there was something about her, um, maybe killing that Whamline guy. Way, I mean.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know where they are, no.¡± I took another couple bites, partly lost in thought and partly just enjoying the food. ¡°Pretty sure they just need some time to figure things out. I think we could all use that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, now if only Pencil could understand that and let everyone in that building go before turning himself and the rest of his people in quietly.¡± After saying that, Ryder winced. ¡°I mean--sorry, you probably didn¡¯t need that reminder, huh?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say I haven¡¯t forgotten about that situation,¡± I confirmed. ¡°But uh, I also haven¡¯t checked in on it since I woke up from my own little nap. Everything¡¯s still the same over there?¡±


    Ryder gave a heavy sigh. ¡°Giant impenetrable forcefield around a building full of hostages with a bunch of psychopaths threatening to kill them, yup. I guess the authorities are working on that. Honestly, I don¡¯t think Pencil knows what to do since the people he left out here all got picked up. He¡¯s still got his hostages in there, but they¡¯re a umm, limited supply.¡± He visibly cringed after saying that. ¡°God, that sounds bad. But he can¡¯t just kill everyone in there. For once, he actually wants something that he can¡¯t get for himself. And it¡¯s something he can¡¯t just ¡®oh well¡¯ his way out of if he doesn¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°A cure for his sister,¡± I finished for him. ¡°On the other hand, assuming she really is the only person he cares about, I don¡¯t think we want to see just how bad he can get if he thinks he¡¯s gonna lose her.¡± It was a thought that made me flinch. Pencil had been dangerous enough as it was. If he decided to lash out because he was pissed off and had nothing to lose, how horrible would it get? Worse than I could imagine, no doubt.


    Ryder took another couple bites and ate in silence for a moment before offering a rather weak, ¡°Well, at least you got some sleep? Cuz it seems like you¡¯re gonna need it.¡±


    Rolling my eyes at myself, I finished my next bite before replying, ¡°Yeah, well, it would help if gender shit could fuck all the way off so I could stop having weird dreams.¡±


    Only after saying that did I realize who I was talking to, as Ryder put his fork down and blinked at me. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then pressed on. ¡°Is, uh, is that something you want to talk about?¡±


    ¡°Yes--no--I mean¡­¡± I trailed off before giving a heavy sigh while staring at the food in front of me, trying to gather my thoughts. ¡°It''s a really long story.¡±


    ¡°Good thing I¡¯ve got good food and company,¡± he replied easily, taking another bite. But he didn''t do anything else to prompt me. He just waited and watched while I decided what I wanted to say.


    Finally, I simply started from the beginning. I told Ryder everything about my lost memories and what had been erased in that moment. I was vague on the whole Paige situation, of course. I didn''t give away every single detail. But I told him the gist of it. Most importantly, I told him about how confused I had been, and now was again, about the whole boy-girl thing. And then about how my dream had confused the whole issue even more.


    Once I was done, Ryder remained quiet for a minute. He just watched me in silence before setting his empty container down so he could reach out and gently put his hand on top of mine. His voice was soft. ¡°Can I tell you something my grandfather said to me?¡±


    His grandpa, the only person in his entire family who had accepted Ryder¡¯s situation and had been encouraging to him. Biting my lip, I gave a quick nod and looked up to him silently, not wanting to interrupt.


    Ryder left his hand on top of mine, his voice firm yet gentle. ¡°My grandfather said, ¡®the only person who can define you, is you. No one else can decide if you¡¯re a good person or a bad person, a selfish person or a giving person. All they can do is look at you, what you say, how you act, and guess. Some for better and some for worse. The only person who knows what is inside is you. Everyone else is just interpreting what they see. Or worse, what they want. So don¡¯t listen to them. Don¡¯t listen to the supposed rules or to how everyone else thinks this sort of thing is supposed to go. They can¡¯t see inside you.¡¯¡±


    He smiled a bit at the memory of his grandfather before his eyes shifted back to meet mine. ¡°The way I see it, gender, it¡¯s just like¡­ the primary colors, if there were two of them, masculine and feminine. People think that you¡¯re one or the other, but really, everyone is some mix. Maybe a person is seventy percent masculine and thirty percent feminine. They live their entire lives thinking of themselves as masculine. But here¡¯s the thing, that means they¡¯re only living as seventy percent of themselves.


    ¡°Think of a person¡¯s body like a container that you can¡¯t see inside of. Beside that container are two beakers. One beaker has blue liquid in it, for masculine. The other beaker has pink liquid in it, for feminine. The blue liquid is cold, and the pink liquid is hot. Every time a person is born, they get some liquid from one beaker and some liquid from another in their container. Since people can¡¯t see inside the container, they have to use another sense to figure out what the mixture is. So they might touch it and say, ¡®oh, that¡¯s hot, she¡¯s a girl.¡¯ Or, you know, it¡¯s cold so he must be a boy. But what if a container actually had more pink and they just happened to touch the one spot where there was more blue? What if they made assumptions based on a single touch and based their entire understanding of you off that?¡±


    Ryder met my gaze, a small smile finding its way to his face. ¡°And sometimes there¡¯s a blender inside that container, so the blue and pink stuff just swirls around constantly. Maybe it¡¯s mostly pink against the edges so it feels hot one moment, then the next, more blue gets mixed in so it cools down. There¡¯s nothing wrong with that, and the person with the blender isn¡¯t some sort of freak. It just¡­ makes it more complicated to really understand who they are. Even for them. Some people aren¡¯t a beaker of settled blue or pink. Some people are a¡­ lava lamp.¡±


    Taking in a deep breath before letting it out, I hesitantly offered, ¡°Complicated does sum my life up, and lava lamps are pretty.¡± My hand shifted, opening to take his and squeeze it. ¡°Thanks, Ryder.¡±


    ¡°Any time,¡± he replied softly. ¡°But just so you know, no matter what your lava lamp looks like on the inside, as far as I¡¯m concerned, you ended up with one of the best mixtures I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    We both blushed and had to look away, staring intently in either direction at the street below us. Then we slowly looked back and he rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°I mean umm, I hope that helps a little.¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°It does. It¡­ it really does.


    ¡°I think¡­ maybe for the first time in my life, I¡¯m not confused anymore.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 16 - SPHERE Online Forum 3

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    <> Topic ¡ª Avant Guard Thread Two (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on May 12th, 2020:


    Well, we hit a full thread pretty quick on that one, didn¡¯t we? I guess people are interested in talking about this new team. Especially now that we have a name for them. Just remember to be respectful and keep it all within the rules. We don¡¯t want to have another incident like what happened with you know who.


    Feel free to use this thread to talk about the Detroit based hero team who have started calling themselves Avant Guard. You may discuss the team itself or any of its members or exploits. But if a discussion gets too bogged down on discussing a single member, remember that they have separate threads (though partners are grouped together) which can be found here: (Paintball, Alloy, Trevithick, Style and Poise, Calvin and Hobbes)


    You can find an archive of the first discussion thread right here, and the Sphere-Wiki entry for this team is available right here.


    (Showing page 9 of 22, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> GearK


    Replied on May 19th, 2020


    Avant-Guard, that''s the name they''re going with? I guess they''re really leaning into that whole artist vibe, aren''t they?


    ¡ª> SavagePunch


    Replied on May 19th, 2020


    Sure, and why shouldn''t they? I mean, you''ve got Paintball who uses--uhh-- paint and makes pictures and all that. Then you''ve got Alloy who could fit a sort of sculptor vibe. I don''t remember the little girl''s name off the top of my head, but isn''t she some sort of Tech-Touched? Building things, that could fit with artistry. The others I''m not exactly sure about, but you could probably make them fit too.


    ¡ª> SPB Disciple


    Replied on May 19th, 2020


    Her name is Trevithick. It was some inventor guy who built trains or something. All her stuff has to do with making things move, I think. Anyway, are the other four even Touched, or are they glorified Prevs with equipment she made? Not that there¡¯d be anything wrong with that, I think Prevs who keep up in Touched fights are awesome.


    ¡ª> FiefdomOfFeeling


    Replied on May 19th, 2020


    I still think Poise and Style have to be enhanced in some way. They''re definitely stronger and faster than normal people, and the other two, Calvin and Hobbes, don''t have those same enhancements. Those two move more like normal people, just with those special guns. And maybe the suits make them bulletproof or something? I don''t know, but the two pairs definitely aren''t the same. And you¡¯d think if Trevithick could make suits that enhance two of them like that, she''d do it for all four. Or the whole team.


    ¡ª> Anonymoton


    Replied on May 19th, 2020


    Maybe it''s a condition of resources. Or lack thereof. Maybe they''ve got four normal humans and only enough stuff to give two of them the enhanced physical abilities while the other two get the special guns. In which case, Poise and Style made the right decision. I know if it was my choice, I''d totally take the enhanced abilities. You can use those outside of a fight. I mean, what else can you use those guns for besides combat?


    ¡ª> Woodywoodeater


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    Well those special guns move stuff around, right? They shoot out a beam and let you pick stuff up. You could absolutely use them to lift heavy objects and shit like that. Hell, you could help a whole household move super quick and easy. That could probably solve all their money and resource problems so they could get the supplies they need to build advanced suits for everyone.


    ¡ª> Emanater


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    You know, I think you might be onto something there. Not just moving things. Paintball could paint a whole house in like a minute. Then you could have Alloy use her marbles to help move stuff too, or even make fake furniture so people could see what it would look like in their house before they actually put it there. I think there''s a realtor in town who has some sort of power like that. My uncle said he used him, I''ll have to find out what his name is. He could probably hire these guys to help out. Make a whole moving company out of it.


    ¡ª> Marconi''s S


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    Haha, hell yeah, obviously, these guys have been totally wasting their time playing superhero. They should be making BANK this way. Less life and death situations to deal with, you know?


    ¡ª> Nined


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    Well, all that aside, I think Poise and Style fit the artistry thing too. But they''re a little more abstract about it. They''re like gymnasts or ballet dancers, that sort of art. Which absolutely counts and fits within the theme. As for Calvin and Hobbes, well obviously their names fit. That comic was the bomb and still holds up. And some of the stuff Watterson did would be considered avant-garde. Maybe they don''t have any powers, but even their weapons fit too. They move objects around, stack them up, maybe you could say they make art that way? Yeah, I know it''s a stretch, but not everything''s going to be a total winner. After all, it''s not like they''re just recruiting people who fit the theme and ignoring everyone else.


    ¡ª> FlowerOfBeauty


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    I like the idea of Poise and Style being the acrobat type of art. Have you seen the way those two can move? I saw this cell footage somewhere that someone took and that shit looked totally impossible. Forget being a moving company, those two could gold medal in the Olympics. That would be worth some good dough, wouldn''t it? In sponsorships if nothing else.


    Actually hey that''s a good point, come to think of it. There''s sponsorships for hero teams, isn''t there? I bet there''s plenty of artist groups out there who would pay these guys anything they needed.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Avant Guard Thread Two (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    (Showing page 10 of 22, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> AProtectionRacket


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    @FlowerOfBeauty


    Oh man, don''t even bring that up as a possibility. Now you just made us think about Paintball going around putting advertisements everywhere. Can you imagine him showing up to a fight with a restaurant ad on his back? Oh, and then after all the bad guys are tied up, they''ve got ads on them too. Wait, now that we say that out loud, it might work. Talk about a justified punishment.


    ¡ª> Threeb4


    Replied on May 20th, 2020


    Fuck no, you had the right idea the first time. That would be cruel and unusual, for them and everyone else. I''ve got enough trouble with blocking ads online, I seriously don''t need Paintball jumping around putting up graffiti on all the walls and bad guys talking up the latest movie release or pizza deal.


    ¡ª> CrabScavengersInDisguise


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Wait, if he was doing that, would anyone who hit him be considered an ad blocker?


    ¡ª> CleverVole


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Yeah let''s not come up with any more plans that involve encouraging people to hit Paintball, OK? I think the poor guy¡¯s got enough problems as it is.


    ¡ª> BabblingSpriggan


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Damn straight, and that goes for the whole city. I don''t know about you guys, but I''d prefer things settle down. I''ve got a vacation coming up in three months, and if this whole quarantine thing isn''t dealt with by then, I might have to think about turning to a life of crime myself. Seriously, I''ve been looking forward to this trip for a whole year. I don''t need any more bullshit screwing it up. Every extremity I¡¯ve got is crossed that things go back to normal soon.


    ¡ª> Mach3


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Hey guys, remember, if you want to talk about the general state of the city, the quarantine, or anything like that, there are other threads for it. This one is for discussions about Avant Guard specifically. So let''s try to stay on topic. To that end, now that we know what their official name is and all that, does anyone else think they should have a cool logo they could all wear on their costumes?


    ¡ª> LaughingLad


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    I mean, any logo would just get covered up whenever Paintball used his powers on them, right? But maybe it could still be cool. A good team needs a good logo. Hey, maybe we could design something and send it to them. As a thank-you for all the hard work.


    ¡ª> Paintball (Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Hey, if someone else wants to put in the work to design a logo, I won''t turn it down. You all could do a better job than me.


    ¡ª> RingAroundARosie


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    !!!! Wait, hang on, I''m not falling for this one again. We¡¯ve been through this before and gotten so very, very burned. Does anyone else remember the fake Carousel fiasco? How do we know this is the real Paintball? This smells like a trick. In the next post, you''ll see the team needs help and all we have to do is donate to this anonymous account, right?


    ¡ª> MercurialGumball


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Yeah, I''m leaning towards this not being real. It''s a sick joke, and I for one don''t appreciate it. Reported.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 9, 10, 11 ¡­. 20, 21, 22


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    <> Topic ¡ª Avant Guard Thread Two (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    (Showing page 11 of 22, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> Berryonalake (Moderator)


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Speaking as a mod, I can confirm that the account you see above has verified his identity. It just took us a little bit to add that verified sign that you should all be able to see now. He''s agreed to have that proof shared, so here''s what we did. As the staff for this Detroit forum, we chose a wall in the city that we knew was blank and set up a time lapse camera for him. In the attached video below, you can see Paintball show up in front of the camera, wave to it, then paint several greeting messages on that wall in rapid succession. He then writes his username. It''s as close as we can get to one hundred percent confirmation.


    ¡ª> GujaratiSugar


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Oh shit, senpai noticed us. Wait, can it be senpai when he¡¯s like 12 and we¡¯re *mumble mumble numbers mumble*? Oh who cares? Paintball! We have so many questions. How strict is your dad about how much time you spend on the streets? Does that helmet squish your beak too much? Did they find a way to make the space inside it bigger like a TARDIS so you''d be more comfortable? When are your wings going to come in properly? Is it uncomfortable to have the feathers all squished up in that suit?


    ¡ª> BrightFireOfIthax


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Hey, for more relevant questions, are you really friends with Pack? How can you be friendly with a villain who steals from people? I mean not to be rude or anything (please don''t censor mods), but the La Casa people are thieves and just generally bad people. And you''ve been seen hanging out with and getting help from them sometimes. Where do you draw the line of what¡¯s acceptable or not?


    ¡ª> LivelyAnteater


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Well how about we ask about some of the questions up above? Like, do all of you have powers or not? Are Poise and Style touched or just well-trained with special suits? Do you guys really think you can go up against these gangs without getting official aid by attaching yourselves to one of the government teams? Because people who are completely independent or don''t even have a sponsor tend to run into problems and often dissolve or get absorbed into other groups because of them. Is there a reason you don''t want to accept help even if it would protect your teammates and make it so you can help more people?


    ¡ª> ConservatorKriegspiel (Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    I might not be able to speak for Paintball or his team directly, but I can assure you that even without what you are calling an ¡®official alliance or sponsorship,¡¯ their team is a vital part of our city and all of our attempts to keep the people in it safe. If they need anything, our teams would help provide it, no alliance or signed contract necessary. They don''t need to be sponsored by anyone for all of us to work together. Avant Guard has absolutely earned any help they ask for. No one is holding anything back from them just because they consider themselves independent, so let''s nip that thought right in the bud.


    ¡ª> PalaceHearth


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Oh damn, it¡¯s a Kriegspiel-Paintball team-up! Who saw that coming? No, seriously, who would have seen that coming? Has anyone even seen those to interact together at all? We feel like Paintball barely has any interaction with the Conservators. Have those two specifically ever even been seen talking together?


    ¡ª> SirAnthonyWatcher


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    I mean, to be fair, we see maybe five percent of the interactions these people have. Maybe they know each other outside of costume, then how would we ever have any idea how much they interact? Maybe Kriegspiel is actually one of his teachers or something and they talk all the time at school.


    ¡ª> SilverElk


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    Well now you''re just being ridiculous, like we wouldn''t recognize if one of the schools around here had a bird-boy as a student. It¡¯d definitely stand out. Maybe if you said he was a private tutor or something, but an actual public teacher? No way anyone''s going to be keeping that secret. And he definitely couldn¡¯t have become a superhero without everyone in his class immediately realizing the bird-boy is Paintball.


    ¡ª> RobertR


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    I mean, really that just goes back to the question of how no one¡¯s seen him before anyway. And we know there are holographic disguises out there, maybe Paintball¡¯s civilian bird form uses something like that. Hey, PB, if you''re still around and actually going to respond, did you go to a school or are you privately tutored?


    ¡ª> MarsSpider


    Replied on May 21st, 2020


    See, all of those are really fine questions and everything. But what I want to know is even more important. Paintball, if you only answer one question out of this whole thing, make it this one. Do you have any other colors of paint that you''ve been holding back? Because my friend swears he once saw you use what looked like gold paint (not yellow, he insists it wasn¡¯t yellow) and it seemed to burn the stuff it was on. Do you have a secret gold paint that can set stuff on fire? Honestly, I think my friend is making shit up, but he swears up and down that someday you¡¯ll use that paint to fight and he''ll be proven right. We bet my bike on it, and I just want to know that I''m not about to lose it. That thing is worth over a thousand dollars. Please tell me you''ve got my back here.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Edit: oh, just to be clear, I am in no way advocating that Paintball not use this special gold fire paint if he actually has it. I''d totally give up my bike for that if it was real, especially if it helped anybody. Seriously, gold fire paint sounds awesome. But I still don¡¯t think it¡¯s an actual thing.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 10, 11, 12 ¡­. 20, 21 22


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    <> Topic ¡ª Avant Guard Thread Two (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    (Showing page 14 of 22, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> Paintball (Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Oh shit, that''s like three pages of questions already. Right then, I''m gonna do my best to answer what I can. But I hope you guys understand if there''s some stuff I can''t say. Gotta keep some secrets or Papa might ground me for making things too dangerous.


    Anyway, let¡¯s see in order. I can¡¯t get to all of them right now but I¡¯ll come back later. First of all, we are definitely not going to get into any sort of corporate sponsorships. No advertisements on our suits or anything, promise. Now, the idea about helping people move and painting houses and stuff? That one has potential¡­ we¡¯ll see where it goes. And don''t worry, if we did do that, we definitely only paint our ads over deserving billboards that no one wants to see anyway. That could count as a public service.


    I am no one¡¯s senpai. Please, please do not look up to me in any way. You¡¯d just end up regretting it for so many reasons, I promise. I¡¯m not a role model, either as a civilian or a Touched. I¡¯m just trying to do the best I can and usually I screw something up. It just--here¡¯s a list of homeless shelters and soup kitchens in the city, and here¡¯s a phone number for the mental health hospital. If you really want to look for people to look up to and help, check out those places. They need you more than some silly group that goes around punching robbers does.


    The helmet fits the beak just fine! How? Sorry, trade secret, can¡¯t be sure any of the sneaky sneaky bad guys out there won¡¯t find a way to use that against me or my family! But I promise, it¡¯s not all squished up in here. I¡¯ve gotta be able to breathe and talk!


    As for Pack and anyone else I might sometimes end up on the same side as, sometimes there are bigger threats out there that have to be dealt with before you can worry about other things. Pack helped save people and stop worse bad guys before. Someone who steals money from a bank or robs an electronics store after it''s closed isn''t the same sort of bad as someone who happily torments hostages and kills people for fun. I totally get that some people won¡¯t be happy with this answer, but there it is. Given the choice between going after a murderer or a thief, I¡¯ll go after the murderer every time.


    Poise and Style have given me permission to say that they are special themselves and it¡¯s not just the suits. Obviously we can¡¯t really get into details about that cuz of those same sneaky sneaky bad guys who know how to read, but that should be enough for now! That said, I feel bad for anyone who tries to go after either of them and hope they have their medical insurance paid up.


    Okay, that''s a lie and lying is bad. I should be honest. The truth is there''s definitely some people out there that wouldn¡¯t make me feel bad if Poise or Style had a chance to get their hands on them. I might even enjoy some popcorn before stepping in. See? Definitely not any sort of role model. Cross me off that box.


    As far as getting help goes, believe me, if we weren''t getting it just because we haven''t signed on the dotted line with any official corporations or governments, we''d be dead by now. I know that''s probably a pretty blunt way of putting it, but it''s true. Everyone in the city, all the official teams, have done so much to help. Remember back when I was all by myself (boy that seems like a little longer than just a couple months ago doesn''t it) and how screwed I would''ve been when I was trying to find those vials? If it wasn''t for the Minority and bunch of others, Cu¨¦lebre and his buddies would¡¯ve stomped me into a smear on the ground. There¡¯d probably still be some poor janitor trying to squeegee me off the walls! So yeah, we definitely get plenty of help, don¡¯t worry about that.


    Oh and Kriegspiel definitely isn¡¯t my teacher, he¡¯s my piano tutor! You should see the way his fingers dance over those keys, it¡¯s enough to bring tears to your eyes. As for school itself, all I can say is that I am a well-educated bird-boy! My papa wouldn¡¯t have it any other way. And Uncle Krieg, thanks for setting everyone straight about how much you guys do for us! Maybe I won¡¯t tell Papa about that time you took his Cheetos!


    The last question I can really get to right now is the gold paint thing. Sorry, but as far as I know I don¡¯t have anything like--hang on, let me try. Nope, no gold paint. Well, not specifically gold anyway. I can make the yellow sort of look goldish (edit: not goldfish wtf autocorrect?), but it definitely doesn¡¯t burn or melt anything. It¡¯s not hot at all. At least, not so far. Maybe if I¡­


    But that¡¯s getting ahead of myself. Plus, there¡¯s that whole keeping secrets from the bad guys thing. I know there¡¯s more questions to get to and I will later, but thanks to all of you! You¡¯re more awesome than I could ever really say. Just sitting around reading your speculation whenever I get a few minutes is great. And helpful sometimes! Sorry it took me so long to figure out the pink paint.


    I¡¯ll get to the other questions as soon as I can, but just know I¡¯m still around and reading. Maybe I¡¯ve even commented in this thread before under another account¡­ Muahahaa, have fun with that!


    ¡ª> LucentOfSeraphs(Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Gasp, betrayal of the highest order! Kriegspiel we need to talk about those Cheetos. And about you corrupting the boy into keeping such vital secrets. Prithee explain yourself, lest we meet on the field of battle!


    ¡ª> Paintball (Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Oh no, what have I done? Forgetting that dear Papa knows how to read was truly an unfathomable mistake from which there may be no recovery! Soon all Touched in the city will be forced to choose sides in the great snack-theft affair and all that will be left is ruins in the wake of the ensuing war! The fate of Detroit lay in my grasp and I have failed to shield it from certain destruction. Woe to all who stand pitted sibling to sibling, parent to child, friend to friend in the snack civil war. Citizens, brace yourselves.


    ¡ª> ConservatorKriegspiel (Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Oh don¡¯t let your anger over snack theft blind you to the obvious truth, old friend! Your boy has been misled. It was never I who stole such a precious cheese-flavored crispy snack, but some old foes who seek to turn us against one another. They must have impersonated me to trick the boy into such a mistake. But only one organization is dastardly and well-connected enough to pull off such a charade!


    ¡ª> LucentOfSeraphs(Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Gasp, I have been fooled! What monsters could do such a thing? Wait. Gods no, don¡¯t say it, we were supposed to be through with such vile fiends! They can¡¯t have risen from the ashes.


    ¡ª> ConservatorKriegspiel (Verified Identity)


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    My old friend, you and I know better than most that such an organization can never truly be defeated, only stalled for a time. Their power is greater than any other we shall ever be forced to stand against. But stand against them we must, for the good of this city and all of its citizens.


    Frightening though the prospect may be, we stand united against the Dairy Mafia.


    ¡ª> EnemyOfTheGoose


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    I have absolutely no idea what the fuck is happening right now but I am here for it.


    ¡ª> SunshinePlaza


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Okay where the hell did this Dairy Mafia thing come from? I¡¯ve seen that around the Detroit areas of this forum for weeks now and I have no idea what started it.


    ¡ª> PalaceHearth


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    Well of course you don¡¯t know, the DM keeps that stuff on the downlow. Actually, just saying the name probably got you put on their list. They don¡¯t take kindly to people exposing them to the public like that. I¡¯d say lock your doors, but obviously that¡¯s a lost cause if you already have milk or cheese in the house. Been nice knowing you!


    ¡ª> Constructicon


    Replied on May 22nd, 2020


    To answer the question seriously @SunshinePlaza somehow it got out that Paintball made a joke about there being a dairy mafia way back when that stolen vials thing was going down, and it¡¯s sort of made the rounds especially here. It¡¯s not quite as well-known as the bird-boy thing, but some people keep it going.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 13, 14, 15 ¡­. 20, 21 22


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    <> Topic ¡ª Avant Guard Thread Two (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    (Showing page 21 of 22, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> AvoidanceLamb


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    So, now that I¡¯m done catching up on those ten extra pages about the Dairy Mafia that got split off into their own new thread a few days ago (thanks mods!) can we go back a bit and talk about Poise and Style some more? My friend has this theory about their powers. He was saying that sometimes when they fight it looks like they both react to something that only one of them should be able to see, like they''re connected mentally somehow or whatever. He thinks maybe they¡¯re actually one person who split into two different forms when they¡¯re out on the field. Like, I know they¡¯re both totally different physically, but that doesn''t mean it couldn''t be one person producing two separate bodies that just look different, you know?


    ¡ª> Nekezs


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Huh, I just checked those YouTube videos of those two and your friend is right, they totally react to things that only one of them should have seen. And there''s no delay either. Maybe he''s onto something with that whole two people in one thing. Or would it be one person in two? Whatever, you get the point. They both seem to have the same general enhancements, move similarly, and have a weird connection. Normally I just dismiss this sort of conspiracy theory, but I think this one might have legs.


    ¡ª> Wonthav


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Hold on, let''s not get ahead of ourselves. It''s possible their suits just transmit images to each other, isn''t it? Maybe they can just see what the other person is seeing through a camera or whatever. It doesn''t have to be a psychic link. Occam''s razor, you know?


    ¡ª> OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Personally, I think having a constant video feed showing them what the other person is seeing and being able to react both to that and to what''s already in front of them would be even more ridiculous and hard than the psychic connection thing. Can you imagine trying to fight someone while splitting your attention between them and another view completely? That would have to be an impressive power all on its own.


    ¡ª> FullBass


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Hey, yeah, they''ve got a point. I know we don''t have a ton of videos of those two, but I was looking through what we do have, and there really is zero delay between something happening to one of them and the other reacting even if they weren''t paying any attention before. There''s no way any normal person could split their attention like that, especially not in a fight. Maybe they really are psychically linked, or one mind controlling two bodies. I''m not sure which theory I like better.


    If there is a psychic link and they''re two different people, which one of them started it? Wait, what if they¡¯re twins and they both Touched together? Fraternal twins, I mean. Obviously they aren''t identical.


    ¡ª> JumpOverDeath


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    They wouldn''t need to even be related to have a connection if they both Touched at the same time. Look at Janus. They were two separate people who touched together and got melded into one fused asshole. Or Theory and Praxis, from that new group with the stupid-ass name. Two totally different people, but they Touched together and now only one of them is out in the real world at a time. They share the same physical space or something. Maybe these two started out as different people, touched the same orb and got the same physical powers plus a mental connection with one another.


    ¡ª> MinimumLuthor


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Ooooh, I definitely like that theory the best. I think it fits what we''ve seen so far. It''s obvious they''re not normal people, and it''s safe to say that if that group had the ability to build suits that could enhance them that much plus give some sort of link between two of them, they would''ve made more of them. It''s pretty clearly limited to those two, so it has to be powers. That plus the way they can both react to what the other is seeing, the ¡®both Touched together and have a constant link¡¯ is totally the number one best theory.


    ¡ª> DeDeDelicious


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Holy shit, did you guys see what happened out there? These guys helped stop a bunch of wannabe Scions from killing practically the whole Minority! Some police lieutenant guy was just talking about it on the news. I didn''t catch the whole thing, but they showed some footage they got from some guy''s cell phone and it looked like an all out street war. The fucker wouldn''t hold his phone steady and he was coming in the damn portrait mode, but he still got some good angles of the fight. I hope someone can run it through a steady program so it stops giving me seasickness.


    ¡ª> VotMoon


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Yeah, if you want to see more about that, you should check this thread about it. And to relate it to the topic being addressed, it''s definitely even more clear that Style and Poise are linked. Watch this video right here. It''s from a pretty far distance, but look at Style up in the very top-right most corner. You can see how she''s looking straight at that guy with the knife as he gets back up, but all of a sudden she turns around and throws that trashcan lid at the guy with the gun. He was completely out of her field of view. But Poise was looking at him. It¡¯s like Poise saw him but didn¡¯t have anything convenient to hit him with, so Style did it. And it¡¯s way too quick for her to have said anything over a comm. She rolls off the hood of that car, sees the guy, and Style instantly reacts like she saw him too. They are absolutely connected, and I think the ¡®two separate people who Touched together and have a permanent psychic link¡¯ is the best explanation.


    ¡ª> Gepetto¡¯s Lad


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Should we really be speculating this much about them? Or anyone else''s powers, really. It seems like some bad guys could just read our comments and find a way to use that against them. Or even just figure out how to avoid that. If those two really are linked and it gives them that much of an advantage, it feels pretty shitty to give that away to any rando who happens to read this thread. I dunno, maybe I¡¯m just overthinking it, but maybe it¡¯s possible to go too far with theorizing.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 20, 21, 22


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    <> Topic ¡ª Scions (Candidates) Abduct Touched (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted On May 31st, 2020


    Okay, we¡¯re still getting word about what exactly is going on out there today, but some important details have been coming in, so it¡¯s time to put up a thread about it. For a quick catch-up on everything we know, check out the news story here where they¡¯ve been creating and updating a chronological list of events. But here¡¯s the gist:


    Several members of the Minority along with younger members of the La Casa gang were abducted by candidate members of the Scions of Typhon and some of their Prev foot soldiers. It¡¯s unclear exactly how many were taken due to necessary secrecy on both sides, but some say the entire Minority team was abducted along with Pack, Broadway, Eits, and possibly that new guy, Croupier, though that last one isn¡¯t for certain. There¡¯s also some debate about whether or not Fragile was abducted. But what is agreed upon is that many were taken and the Scions candidates intended to kill them in order to gain entrance to the gang.


    Worse, it turns out that one member of the Minority, Whamline, was actually a traitor who attempted to sacrifice his teammates to gain entry to the Scions of Typhon. I know a lot of you are debating the veracity of that, but it has been confirmed.


    Through the collective efforts of Paintball and the rest of Avant-Guard along with an alliance between Ten Towers and La Casa, the abducted Touched were rescued safely and all members of the candidate Scions and their Prev assistants were arrested. There was some speculation that the one known as Trove managed to escape, but she was later delivered directly to the authorities by a figure who was originally unidentified but later revealed to be the former Detroit Minority-turned Sell Touched known as Echo. It¡¯s currently unknown why she is in the city, how she arrived considering she was seen in other locations after the lockdown was put in place, or how long she will be staying. For now, she has apparently agreed to step in and assist the authorities in keeping things under control.


    (Edit: It turns out that what we once thought was misinformation about Whamline was indeed true, he was KIA while trying to murder another member of the Minority. Details at this point are understandably sparse)


    Even with the Scions candidates arrested, Pencil and the others holed up in that apartment building remain out of reach. It¡¯s unknown what their reaction to this failure will be, but police and Star-Touched representatives say they have the situation in-hand, the building is surrounded, and at the first opportunity they¡¯ll enter and secure the area. That said, everyone should be ready to hunker down if things escalate. If you know someone in the building, whether a loved one or friend, please try to look away from the news and distract yourself a little bit. This goes for young children especially. Obsessing over every sensationalist news report isn¡¯t healthy for anyone, particularly them. Try to distract them if possible. Whatever happens, the authorities are going to be doing their very best to resolve the situation peacefully, but nothing you do by watching the news will help that.


    In particular, do not attempt to approach the building, even now. Or especially now. The police have the entire surrounding area locked down, so the most you will accomplish is to distract them as they escort you out of the area. And the last thing we want is to distract the people trying to resolve this situation. Leave this to the professionals.


    Otherwise, feel free to discuss everything in this thread. The other one about the apartment building being taken over was getting pretty full anyway, so we¡¯ll just move all discussion here. If you see other posts elsewhere that are focused solely on this situation, direct those people this way so we can keep it all organized. Thank you very much, and our thoughts go out to everyone trapped in that building! Good luck to all of you, we hope and wish for your safety.


    (Showing page 15 of 17, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Well I think it¡¯s obvious that this whole thing was just a big distraction. There¡¯s no way NICKY would actually recruit people stupid enough to get themselves caught like this before they could even accomplish anything useful. He¡¯s obviously planning something huge and wants everyone overconfident and distracted. Hell, I bet he¡¯s not even actually in that building anymore. If he even ever was to begin with! No, man, this smells like a trick. First he gets everyone looking at this one building in the city, convinces them he¡¯s actually there, then lets them think they¡¯re winning by sacrificing some random nobodies. Now just when they feel like he¡¯s on the ropes with nowhere to run, he¡¯s gonna find a way to stab the whole city right in the back. What if he has more of that Sleeptalk shit? What if he¡¯s just waiting for the best chance to hit all the heroes with it? He gets them to let their guards down, gathers everyone we¡¯ve got left in one spot as they wait to break through into the apartment, then bam they¡¯re all in those super-comas! Just like that, the Scions and all the other psychos have free reign. Totally worth throwing away a few pawns.


    ¡ª> AlmanditeSerpent


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    I mean, if we go with that theory, they wouldn¡¯t be sacrificed for long anyway. Under that plan, he¡¯d just break in and let them out of jail as soon as all the Stars and Shields are out of commission. Hell, maybe them getting caught was an even bigger part of the plan. What if they¡¯re in jail to talk up the escape to the other prisoners so everyone¡¯s on board when shit starts going down? Or--fuck it¡¯s the Scions, what if some of those prisoners have fucking bombs inside them to blow up the whole place. Don¡¯t tell me the Scions wouldn¡¯t do that, they totally would.


    ¡ª> MountainsOfMirth


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Okay we really need all you paranoid people to stop giving Pencil and his lot ideas. There¡¯s no way this is all one big set-up. It¡¯s too intricate, too ridiculous. No, Pencil and his people were taking a shot in the dark trying to show how much damage they could do if the authorities wouldn¡¯t give them what they wanted. He wants a cure for his sister because she¡¯s hurt and he fucking panicked, that¡¯s all. Don¡¯t overthink it. There¡¯s plenty of other reasons why this whole situation is totally screwed without freaking out about that. Mostly because there is no cure. Not so far at least. If the authorities had anything they could possibly give Pencil, do you really think all those affected people would still be out of commission? FFS the Evans are in there. Forget Silversmith and all those heroes, if there was a cure anywhere in the world, those rich fucks would already have it. But they don¡¯t, so there isn¡¯t one.


    ¡ª> SkylarWithAnANotAnE


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    If that¡¯s true and there¡¯s no cure so far, what about all the people in that building? Are they just fucked? If there was a way through the forcefield, I¡¯m pretty sure the Stars would¡¯ve used it already. Plus, if you¡¯re right about this not being part of Pencil¡¯s plan, he¡¯s gonna be even more pissed off now. Like a cornered animal. And I really don¡¯t want to think about what¡¯s gonna happen to the people who happen to be in his way when he really loses it.


    ¡ª> StriderOfTheSphere


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Shit, fuck! I¡¯ve an uncle and a cousin in there. I mean we¡¯re not super-close or anything, but still. Do you guys really think they¡¯re not gonna get out? I¡¯m not close to them, but my mom is and I was thinking maybe I should go over and sit with her until this whole thing is over, one way or another. Especially if it looks like it¡¯s gonna go bad. She¡¯s pretty upset right now, and Dad has to work.


    ¡ª> JK Imapickle (You)


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Maybe I¡¯m just not as much of a negative nancy as some people, but I think it¡¯s gonna be okay. There¡¯s no way that forcefield can hold out against every power in the city forever, dude. They¡¯re still working on finding a way through it, but once they do, they¡¯ll get those people out. Have a little faith in the heroes, huh? They¡¯re not just sitting around twiddling their thumbs, they¡¯re cooking something up.


    But uhh, that said, maybe you really should go sit with your mom just so she feels better until this whole thing gets sorted out. No one should have to be alone while someone they care about is in a situation like that. And just in case things go wrong, she¡¯ll be glad you¡¯re there. Plus she''d probably appreciate seeing you anyway.


    Actually, that''s good advice in general. Everyone should visit their parents and it shouldn''t take something like this to get you over there. If your mom is freaking out about her brother and his kid, you should definitely be there with her. Remember guys and girls, you never know when something like this is gonna happen, especially in the current climate. The world gets more and more fucked up by the day. Take care of the people who take care of you.


    ¡ª> CultureClubber


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Right, if the hug squad is done, maybe we can talk about something useful? Like how long it''s going to take before they get all the firepower they need to smash right through that shield and deal with the assholes inside. Not to skirt the rules about calling for too much violence, but one way or another, the Scions need to be stopped. Not only have they gone too far now, trying to kidnap and kill the entire Minority after taking over a whole apartment building and threatening to kill everyone inside, but Pencil¡¯s vulnerable. He''s freaking out about his sister. They''re never going to get a better chance to bring him in. So do it now, before he recovers and gets his head on straight again. Knock him out, do whatever it takes to subdue him, then get that teleport technology out of his body before he wakes up. If they have to do worse than that and he doesn''t give them any other choice, then so be it.


    Oh and why do so many people keep calling him Pencil? I thought we agreed to call him Nick from now on. He¡¯s not a cool secret agent villain whatever. He¡¯s a psycho named Nick Sanvers, who doesn¡¯t deserve the respect of a codename. Don¡¯t give him the dignity of any sort of mystique anymore. Nick Sanvers is a loser and he¡¯s about to go to prison.


    ¡ª> SavagePunch


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Hug squad! That¡¯d be a great name for a mercenary team. They could use logos that are all about smiling faces and hugs and stuff, but they''re actually really violent. Oh and the fluffy cuddly mascot who wants to hug you could have spikes on his gloves with blood on them. I don''t know, would a bear be a good mascot? That seems played out, but I can''t think of anything better. You know, bearhug. Eh come on there¡¯s gotta be a better one. Snake hug? No, then you can¡¯t have the spiked gloves.


    ¡ª> Ravenjoy


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Ehhh on the one hand, this is wildly off-topic, but on the other hand I support anything that takes attention away from Pencil and the rest of those psycho fucks, since people freaking out is exactly what they want. So I''d go with a gorilla as a mascot. You''re right about the bear thing being played out. Gorillas are really strong and have long arms. Have you seen Pack¡¯s gorilla-lizard (gorilizard?) around the city? That thing¡¯s massively strong, I saw it stop a car from driving away just by picking the rear end off the ground.


    ¡ª> NotDresdensCop


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    If you think the gorilla is strong, you should see the bear-lizard. The grizzlizard! That fucking thing can rip a car in half I swear to God. I know people think Pack got the short end of the stick just because she doesn''t have any personal enhancements or anything, but that chick has an army of loyal lizard monsters protecting her, and they all have their own abilities. Like the gorilla turning invisible, or that bear. I swear it''s stronger than an actual bear would be. Or how about that big deer thing she rides around on? It can fucking glow like some sort of neon sign. Plus, people say they''ve seen it jump thirty, forty feet just like that.


    Oh and uhh, just to try to stay on topic a little bit, do you guys think La Casa will help deal with the Scions right now? I mean, those assholes did kidnap and try to kill some of their people, including Pack while we¡¯re on that subject. Blackjack already allowed a truce with Ten Towers so they could all save their own people. I could see that extending to dealing with Pencil and other guys once and for all. It just seems like with everything going on, the Scions might have pissed off too many people at once this time. Maybe the one good thing that could come out of the situation is everyone banding together to stomp them into the ground.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 15, 16, 17


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    <> Topic ¡ª Detroit Quarantine (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    HeavenSketch (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted On May 23rd


    The rumors were true as it turns out. Detroit is now on a full quarantine thanks to what is being called Sleeptalk. For more details about that specific crisis, check this thread. This one is specifically about the quarantine and its effects. While the biological attack seems to have been restricted only to that single building and some of the people inside, no one is certain about whether whatever is responsible can spread or might''ve been set off somewhere else as well. Until they have more information, and most importantly a cure, no one will be allowed in or out of the city. If you are in Detroit right now, please don''t try to leave anyway. You''ll just get yourself locked up and the authorities are already having enough problems without having to deal with a bunch of panicked civilians causing riots. We promise, they won''t allow anyone to starve or lose their medicine. We will have supplies brought in every day. Sure, it might take a while to get luxury items and things like that, but shipping won''t completely stop. The city¡¯s locked down, but they¡¯ll still have trucks coming in. They¡¯ll just have to be heavily monitored, searched going in and out, all that stuff. From what we¡¯ve heard, internet and cell access will remain intact, so you are not being cut off from the rest of the world. You just can''t leave the city.


    If you are a visitor to the city, all hotel costs should be compensated by the Fund for the duration of the quarantine. And if any of the management gives you any problems about staying for the duration, have them call one of the numbers on this page. Or call them yourselves and have a representative come talk to them. And anyone who has general questions or would like to volunteer to help house people who need a place to stay and don''t have other options, check this page.


    (Showing page 72 of 72, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> MostAmazingFinalGuiderOfCults


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Hell yeah I think this whole city would be in much worse shape if it wasn''t for Avant-Guard! Think about it, they''re one of the groups that haven¡¯t been fucked over by Sleeptalk or the fallout from that. Or the Scions. Look at all that shit with Whamline. Dude turned out to be a psycho, you really think the rest of the Minority is just gonna be hunky dory after he sold them out and tried to get them killed? Sure Ten Towers is pretty okay too, but even they¡¯re stretched pretty thin trying to hold everything together with all the people from the other teams who are out of commission. It¡¯s all those guys can do to keep the city running as much as it is, to protect the deliveries coming in and all that. If it wasn¡¯t for Avant-Guard, who would be out protecting the little people like you and me?


    ¡ª> JustAnotherBook


    Replied on May 31st, 2020


    Not to sell Paintball and his crew short at all, but I really think other groups still deserve a lot of credit. Sure, the cops and other teams are stretched thin, especially with the Scions starting all that shit. But they¡¯re doing their best. A bunch of the easy eights tried to rob this store down the street just yesterday morning and a couple of the Seraphs showed up to deal with it. I don¡¯t know if they just happened to be in the area or something, but they stepped up. So have a bunch of other people including Avant-Guard. Everyone should get credit for keeping this city as intact as it is.


    ¡ª> TheOmegaGhostrider


    Replied on June 1st, 2020


    Ain''t that the truth. I might not be living in Detroit right now, but I''ve been following the news ever since this lockdown started and I feel like I''ve really gotten to know your Star-Touched better than the ones who live in my own city. Sucks about Whamline turning out to be such a piece of work. I thought his powers were pretty cool and was pulling for him to get assigned over here once he graduated. But overall, you guys have really lucked out. I know that might be weird to say considering everything that''s going on and me just being some asshole on the other side of the country, but seriously. You''ve got some great people there helping out. Avant-Guard might be pretty new around there, but they¡¯re already getting a pretty solid rep as far as I can see. Poise and Style look like a couple super-ninjas out there in all those clips, and Paintball makes anyone who goes up against him look like an idiot.


    If you want to talk about Poise and Style or the rest of that team, you should go to this thread. We''ve got some pretty intense discussions going on about what their powers could be or if they actually have them. But totally, someone put together this compilation of those two fighting, and stuck the Mortal Kombat song on it. It¡¯s awesome.


    Edit: hey, does anyone know why the city¡¯s getting locked down?


    ¡ª> Woodywoodeater


    Replied on June 1st, 2020


    Uhhh, where¡¯ve you been, buddy? The city¡¯s been locked down for awhile now.


    ¡ª> FiefdomOfFeelings


    Replied on June 1st, 2020


    No, they¡¯re right. Something else is happening, the cops are out in force shutting down the streets. They¡¯re telling people not to drive anywhere, but they won¡¯t say why. You think there¡¯s another attack happening? Wait, what if they¡¯re shutting down the streets and stopping people from driving because this Sleeptalk stuff went airborn and we could all fall into fucking comas any second?!


    ¡ª> OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on June 1st, 2020


    Oh shit, you guys weren¡¯t fucking around. There¡¯s cops everywhere on the streets. They¡¯re using fire engines and dump trucks to make roadblocks. Not just one spot either, my buddy lives on the other side of the city and he says they¡¯re blocking off streets there too. What the fuck is happening?


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 70, 71, 72


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    <> Private Messages From StriderOfTheSphere


    StriderOfTheSphere: Hey thanks for the encouragement. I went over to sit with my mom and we¡¯re having dinner together. Just pizza, neither of us felt like cooking anything. I really think she feels better. We¡¯ll hope Uncle Pete gets through it.


    JK Imapickle: No worries, I¡¯m just glad it helped! Be there for her. And Uncle Pete, huh? Hope he gets through this all okay.


    StriderOfTheSphere: So do we! And thanks.


    JK Imapickle: Hey, we¡¯ve all gotta stick together.


    <> Private Messages To 22YU00RT


    JK Imapickle: Do me a favor and see what you can find about the sister and nephew or niece of a guy named Peter Karach. We¡¯ve got good old Uncle Pete in here with us and I wanna do something fun for the family.


    Also while you¡¯re at it, find out what this citywide traffic lockdown is all about.


    22YU00RT: Will do, P.

 Acceptance 29-06

    I didn¡¯t go straight home after talking to Ryder and having that unbelievably delicious lasagna. But I didn¡¯t go to Wren¡¯s shop immediately either. I let the others know I would be around in a bit and to let me know if anything about the Scions situation changed, then took a rideshare over to one of the old, fairly rundown skate parks that I knew wouldn¡¯t be very busy. On the way, I stopped to buy a new board and some safety equipment. And for the next hour or so, I lost myself in skating up and through the concrete jungle there. I didn¡¯t think about the Ministry, or about Pencil, Pittman, the Sleeptalk stuff, what was going on with Amber and Pack, any of that. Oh, it was all still there beneath the surface, as always. Those worries and problems were never too far away. But I wasn¡¯t focused on them. Not right now, and not unless my phone buzzed with any more current information for something we could do about any of it.


    No, I was thinking about who I was, and who I wanted to be. I was thinking about Paintball, about how relatively easy it had been for me to slip into the role of a boy despite my underlying issues with that. And about what the source of those underlying issues was. Or rather, the sources. Because that whole thing was one huge complicated Gordian knot, and I really wanted to just take Alexander¡¯s sword to it.


    I skated my way through trick after trick, lost in my own thoughts. A few times I fell down, mostly thanks to my own distraction. But I just got right back up again and fell into the groove once more. The sound of the wheels gliding across concrete, the reassuring and repetitive clickity clack whenever I went over a small crack, all of it was comforting. It didn¡¯t exactly help me forget my stress, but at least made that stress a little easier to cope with. It helped soothe me, helped me focus on my own thoughts rather than being overwhelmed by the sheer weight of everything else going on.


    I thought about Anthony too, remembering the time we¡¯d spent together. Not those last moments, not when I¡¯d walked out onto that patio and saw him die. I thought about my best friend, about playing outside, about¡­ about how much fun he was. And Paige. I thought about the time I¡¯d spent talking to her about who and what I could be. And, of course, about what had happened through all the years that those memories had been lost. A lot of it was painful, but I pushed on through and allowed the simple soothing act of skating mindlessly through those concrete ramps and loops to calm me down.


    Finally, I stopped skating and simply stood there with my foot on the board. Frowning at the dark sky, only dimly lit by scattered visible stars and a sliver of moon, I gave a long, slow exhale. Only then did I consciously realize the streetlight in the distance had gone out at some point. It was almost pitch black here, and I was completely alone. I had just spent all that time skating around this place when I couldn¡¯t see more than a foot in front of my face. That extrasensory power had kicked in again, and I had been so lost in thought that I didn¡¯t even notice what I was doing. So it was probably a good thing I had been alone, or anyone who had seen that might¡¯ve had a question or two.


    Letting out a long, heavy breath, I stepped on the back of the board to pop it up into my waiting hand. Then I turned to walk out of the park, already sending a message for another rideshare to take me closer to the shop. I would¡¯ve just painted my way there, but I was tired after all that skating. Besides, I was still thinking about things.


    The driver who turned up was an older guy with a lot of stories about the early days of Touched in the city, back before I was born. I asked questions now and then, but mostly just let him talk. He had a whole spiel about how much better things were now, even if it might not seem like it considering the situation the city was in with half our authorities in comas, the whole place quarantined, and the Scions holed up with hostages. The word he used a lot was ¡®potential.¡¯ The city had had almost no potential in the old days before powers. It had been circling the drain in so many ways. Now we were one of the biggest cities in the country, with the most forward momentum. Things might be dangerous right now, but he had faith we would get through it and be even better. The city had life back in it, and he¡¯d be damned if he accepted that we¡¯d lose that life. Someone would go in and drag Pencil and his lot out of that building, we¡¯d find a cure for the Sleeptalk, and everything would be okay again.


    Honestly, his optimism and enthusiasm were infectious. He was just so nice and positive, an older black man with gray hair and a smile that lit up the car who introduced himself as Billy. I felt even better after ten minutes of being with him than I had from my whole skating excursion.


    Thanking him both verbally and with a substantial tip (he tried to demur but I dropped the bills onto his seat before getting out), I left the car behind and made my way through the nearby maze of alleys that would eventually lead to the rear of the shop. On the way, I stowed the new skateboard and my equipment for it in that special bag Wren had provided, before jogging up to the building. Before I could even reach out for the bell by the door, it opened and Paige was there. ¡°Hey,¡± she started, giving me a small, uncertain smile. In that position, with her blonde hair and face backlit by the glow coming from inside the shop, she almost looked angelic.


    Geez, my relationship and opinion of Paige really had changed. Or maybe it had gone back to what it should have been before both of our parents completely screwed it over. Either way, I returned the smile with an ease that surprised me even in that moment. ¡°Hey yourself,¡± I replied. ¡°What¡¯s going on in there? Any news?¡±


    Her head shook as she stepped aside and gestured for me to come in. ¡°Nothing dramatic yet. We think the authorities are coming up with something, but no one¡¯s shared any plans with little old Avant-Guard.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re trying to give us a break,¡± I pointed out while stepping inside. ¡°I mean, we did just go through something pretty big. We gave them Pencil¡¯s weakness and helped make sure they didn¡¯t lose basically the entire Minority aside from Fragile to those wannabe Scions. Maybe they think we¡¯ve earned a night off.¡± Pausing, I grimaced. ¡°Aaand now my brain went straight to, ¡®what if something goes wrong while we¡¯re just sitting around here because they didn¡¯t include us?¡¯ I think I might have issues.¡±


    ¡°Might?¡± Paige echoed before shaking her head. ¡°Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions. But in this case, you might be right. I mean, about both. They¡¯re probably trying to solve the rest of this on their own, now that they have some idea of how to bring Pencil down. And, to be fair, we don¡¯t really have a way through that shield either.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I murmured. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make it any easier. Pencil¡¯s had all this time in that building, and he has to know that there¡¯s a good chance someone will find a way in. What if that whole thing is a trap? What if he¡¯s just waiting for them to break in and then he¡¯ll pull some new trick that kills¡­ you know, everyone in there? You can¡¯t tell me he wouldn¡¯t jump at the chance to pull something like that off. With the city as bad as it is, teetering on the edge like this, if he could take out all the Stars they¡¯d send in there after him in one fell swoop, it¡¯d¡­¡± My face twisted. So much for Billy, my incredibly optimistic driver, cheering me up. Man, did I have another minor power for obsessing over doom-filled thoughts?


    No, to be honest, it wouldn¡¯t really be a minor power at this point.


    Paige¡¯s hand found its way to my shoulder, squeezing a little. ¡°Breathe,¡± she urged gently. ¡°They know what they¡¯re doing, and how dangerous he can be. Give them time to figure out what to do with what you¡¯ve given them.¡± After a brief pause, she added a little more hesitantly, ¡°Are you okay? This isn¡¯t just about Pencil. How¡¯s Izzy doing?¡±


    ¡°She''s okay, not exactly happy about what happened, but she just needs some time. And maybe a chance to hit a few people who deserve it.¡±


    By that point, we had reached the main part of the shop, where Rubi, Wren, Murphy, and Roald were talking quietly. Fred and Qwerty were both asleep, apparently, and Sierra had gone for a walk. Peyton, meanwhile, was glued to a television in the corner where the news was talking about the situation at the apartment building. Of course, she was desperate for any news about her mom. But something told me she wasn''t going to get it from there. Still, I left her alone and focused on the others.


    ¡°I don''t know if I had the chance to actually say it yet with everything that happened, but thanks for everything out there. I mean, for showing up the way you did and helping make sure those reinforcements didn¡¯t make that whole situation worse. I¡­ I couldn¡¯t¡¯ve gotten through that without you guys. I was barely holding on as it was. If they¡¯d actually had those reinforcements show up like they were supposed to, it would''ve been bad.¡± I coughed, shifting a little subconsciously as they all stared. ¡°So, yeah thanks. I owe you.¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°We¡¯re a team,¡± Peyton announced, standing up from her spot by the television (it was on a little shelf along with other things waiting to be sold) to face me. ¡°You don¡¯t owe us, that¡¯s what we do. We back each other up, right?¡± With that, she added a little shrug. ¡°Besides, you saved my life a couple times before we even were a team, remember? So, as a team, please tell me you¡¯ve heard something about what they¡¯re doing out there?¡± Her hand gestured back toward the television, the pleading obvious in her gaze.


    Swallowing hard, I shook my head. ¡°Sorry, I don''t know anything more than you do. I just hope if they do decide to try something, they give us a call so we can help. It''s not like they have an abundance of reinforcements right now.¡±


    ¡°Um, about that,¡± Rubi started hesitantly, shifting as we all turned our attention that way. ¡°I mean, sort of about that. And the whole team thing. I think I know the best way I can help, and, um, it''s not exactly by staying here permanently. I mean, you guys are amazing, and a big part of me wants to stay where I can help Roald and Murphy.¡± She gave them a quick glance before pushing on. ¡°But it''s like you said, the rest of the teams in this city are being run down. They need help too. And more than that, I think I could do more good for the rest of you by being able to tell you what''s going on in one of those other teams. You know, as someone you can trust to not be part of this whole Ministry group. I can help another group, still come back to back you up whenever you need it, and keep an ear to the ground for anything you need to know.¡±


    After saying all that, Rubi hesitated before adding, ¡°But it''s about more than that. While we were waiting earlier, that Caishen lady came by the van. She offered me a position with Ten Towers, a starting salary and benefits that--¡± Swallowing audibly, she flinched. ¡°I know that sounds bad, I know.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound bad,¡± I assured her. ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself and three other people to think about. You¡¯ve got three dependents, including a girl in elementary school. I mean, sure we''ve got the shop here, and we''re making sure these guys get paid too. But this is a real job opportunity, one with a big team like Ten Towers. They''re an international group. They can do a lot more for you and your family than we can, especially right now. No one thinks it''s stupid or selfish for you to worry about keeping your family safe and fed and all that. And you shouldn''t have to keep doing a shitty job you hate just to stay here.¡± Belatedly after another moment of consideration, I added, ¡°Besides, you want to be a lawyer, and I''m pretty sure they can help with that a lot more than anything we could do.¡±


    Roald nodded quickly. ¡°Yeah. Besides, like you said, you¡¯ll help whenever we need it.¡±


    Rubi, in turn, pointed at him. ¡°You''re damn right I will. That means I''ll be able to push them to come back you guys up too. I¡¯ll have a whole giant corporation ready to bail you guys out of the trouble I know you''ll be getting into.¡± Her attention turned to me. ¡°But if I''m going to do this, you have to promise that you¡¯ll keep me informed about everything that''s going on. If you need help, ask for it. Whatever and whenever it is. Don¡¯t block me out.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I promised. ¡°We won¡¯t. Just be careful in there. And this whole thing goes both ways. If you need anything, let us know and we¡¯ll be there for you in a second.¡±


    Murphy coughed, moving next to Roald. ¡°Yeah, dude, you got our backs and we¡¯ve got yours. Every single way we can.¡±


    With a small smile, Rubi stepped that way and embraced the girl, much to Murphy¡¯s feigned objections. Then she tugged her brother into the embrace. A weight seemed to have lifted from her shoulders. She had clearly been expecting that to be a harder conversation, probably obsessing over how to bring it up ever since Caishen had spoken to her.


    Wren, for her part, bounced up and down a little. ¡°And if you work there, that¡¯s a whole other reason for me to go visit Lightning Bug!¡±


    ¡°Oh, I think you were definitely gonna do that anyway,¡± I pointed out with a smile. ¡°Mostly because if you didn''t, I''m pretty sure she''d find a way to break out of there and come find you, and I don''t think any of us want to deal with her mom if she did that.¡±


    We all shuddered a bit at the thought of how that would go, before the front door opened as Sierra made it back. We didn''t have to update her, since Paige had been sending messages over their connection that whole time. Instead, she just shrugged at Rubi. ¡°What they said. I''d rather have a whole Ten Towers army ready to come charging in to help deal with whatever trouble managed to chase Paintball down next time than just one more person. Even if your power is completely fucking broken.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± As though the bit about trouble chasing me down (which totally wasn¡¯t a fair assessment at all) had reminded her, Wren dashed off to the front counter, digging around for a moment before coming out with what looked like a pristine version of the helmet I had left cracked and half-broken. She held it out to me. ¡°Here, it¡¯s an upgrade! Try it on.¡±


    She was right about it being an upgrade. Not only was it more comfortable to wear, but apparently it would stand up to handgun fire without breaking, even if I didn''t have it painted. On top of that, she had added an untraceable communicator into it that worked off the same tech as that phone we had been using to contact Pittman in Breakwater. And both the communicator and the helmet itself came with a built-in voice changer that included the voice I used as Paintball, as well as several dozen others. Including one voice for each of the others on the team both as their civilian selves and the voices they used in costume, so I could sound like any of them at any point. Just in case that happened to come up. And there were other bells and whistles as well.


    It wasn¡¯t just the helmet either. She¡¯d provided a whole new suit. It was basically identical to the old one, except this one had some built-in padding on the knees, elbows, and chest area. The latter, Wren explained in a bit of a stumbling way, was so that I could have an easier time keeping my identity hidden even if the suit ¡®pulled a bit¡¯ as I moved around. Apparently if you knew to look for it, someone could potentially notice something there. So this was probably a good idea, and now it just looked like a slightly more padded area for protection.


    Thanking the girl profusely until she was blushing red as a beet and embarrassingly insisting that it was no big deal, I took the helmet off and held it under my arm along with the new suit (that one I just trusted to be the right size). Then I looked at the assembled group as they watched me. ¡°Like I was saying before, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without you guys. You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re the reason I¡¯ve made it this far, the reason I¡¯m still alive right now. We¡¯re gonna get through this together. Whatever happens, whatever comes next with the Scions, or this Sleeptalk stuff, dealing with Pittman for good, or the whole Ministry situation, we¡¯ll deal with it together. You guys are amazing, all of you. Whether you¡¯re a permanent part of the team or not.¡± My eyes flicked toward Rubi. ¡°So thanks, all of you.¡±


    Before I could get even more sappy with all of that, my phone buzzed. It was Izzy. She was awake and desperate to get out of the hospital. Apparently Simon was busy and they had to release her to a family member, so she was pleading for me to get over there and help make sure she could leave.


    Promising I would be back later, or as soon as we knew anything else, I tucked the new stuff away in my bag before heading out once more to take my third Uber ride of the past couple hours. Before long, I made it to the Seraphs place and gave the driver an extra tip to wait until I got back so I wouldn¡¯t have to call for a fourth one.


    With the ride idling, I went into the facility, past all the night shift nurses and security (I had to show my identification several times), and through that secret underground tunnel, then up the elevator until I finally reached my sister¡¯s room, putting that extra, Seraphs-provided mask on along the way.


    Izzy was clearly chomping at the bit to leave, considering she was fully dressed and standing up in front of the nurse there, a younger man who kept telling her she needed to wait until someone could be there to keep an eye on her.


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I spoke up to draw the man¡¯s attention. ¡°I¡¯m Cassidy, I can sign her out.¡±


    ¡°Oh good.¡± The man looked relieved. I had the feeling he really didn¡¯t like telling her she couldn¡¯t leave. ¡°Okay, I need you to sign this thing here saying you¡¯ll watch her just in case that stuff kicks in again. We¡¯re pretty sure the cure worked and there won¡¯t be residual effects, but keep an eye out for it just in case. You need to record how often and how long she needs to sleep for the next week, including any extra naps, if she talks or moves in her sleep, and any abnormal breathing, heart rhythms, anything like that.¡±


    He handed me an electronic clipboard and a stylus to write with. Izzy, who had moved up beside me, watched with interest and clear anticipation to leave as I filled it in as best as I could. She also watched as I got to the bottom of the form, gasping just a bit as I answered the last couple questions before handing it back to the man.


    The nurse looked it over real quick, using the stylus to sign his own name as a witness without even paying that much attention. He held it out for me to do the same one last time, then nodded. ¡°Alright, you¡¯re good to go. Just be careful out there, okay?¡±


    Izzy promised she would be, before the two of us headed out. Her hand found mine, squeezing. ¡°What you wrote back there--¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I assured her. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m figuring out who I am. It¡¯s a work in progress, but at least there¡¯s progress.¡±


    Together, the two of us walked back through the facility, leaving that hospital room behind. And leaving the electronic clipboard where I had filled out all the answers to who was checking Izzy out of that room. Including those three important lines, asking my name, my relation to the patient, and my gender identity.


    Cassidy Sofia Evans


    Sibling


    They/Them

 Acceptance 29-07

    Izzy and I went home after that. It had been far too long of a day for all of us, and until we actually got news about what was going on with the Scions, there wasn''t much else we could do anyway. Part of me wanted to go help Wren work on the machine so we could deal with the Pittman thing, but she said she didn''t need us right then. There was a lot of technical work she had to do that we couldn''t help with at the moment.


    So, we took the ride back home and tried to distract ourselves. I played some Horse with her on our family basketball court, just because neither of us wanted to sit around doing nothing. Our excess energy also led to doing some swimming in the pool before relaxing in the nearby hot tub. We were listening to the radio just in case the news said anything, and both of us had our phones nearby. But they remained stubbornly silent. If the authorities were planning some way to get into that building, they weren''t contacting either of us about it. And I had no idea if that was a good or bad thing. Not knowing what was going on made me nervous, to say the least. But on the other hand, maybe that meant they actually had a handle on things?


    Or maybe it meant they had absolutely no idea what to do so there was nothing to tell us. Yeah, that one sounded more likely to me too.


    Finally, while we were in the kitchen making some food (it was after midnight by then, so most of the staff were off duty) both of our phones buzzed. We practically broke our necks lunging for where we had left them on the nearby counter, and each found the same message. It was from Amber, who wanted to know if we could talk. She said she would meet us on the roof of some hotel downtown.


    Obviously, we both agreed and promised to be there as soon as possible. Then we pretended to go to bed for the benefit of the few house staff and guards who might pay attention to that. After a few minutes spent agonizingly waiting, we carefully snuck out, made it over the wall, and went through the woods to the road before calling a car to pick us up. That took us closer to the right area, before we headed into an alley, changed into our costumes (brand new, in my case), and went the rest of the way to the meeting spot. Between my paint and Izzy''s ability to make us weightless (even if I had to be temporarily soaked down for her to do so), it didn''t take long at all.


    Sure enough, Amber was there waiting for us. She was sitting on a low brick wall along the side of the roof, standing as we landed nearby. Instantly, Izzy went that way and embraced the other girl. As soon as I was sure she would be okay with it, I did the same. The three of us hugged there on the roof for a minute in silence before separating. Looking at Amber, I could tell she had been through a lot. She looked bruised and battered, but physically clean. It looked like she had taken a shower recently, even if she was wearing her dirty and bloodied costume.


    Visibly swallowing, Amber managed a very weak smile at us. ¡°Hey, it''s good to see you guys, really. I''m sorry I wasn''t answering your calls or anything. If it makes you feel better, I wasn''t answering anybody''s. I just needed some time alone. Well¡­ sort of alone.¡±


    Before I could say anything, Izzy asked, ¡°Is Pack okay? Are her lizards¡­¡±


    ¡°They''re fine, she''s fine,¡± Amber confirmed with a slightly brighter smile. That expression fell immediately as she glanced away and sighed. ¡°We couldn''t stay around there, not with his¡­ his body.¡±


    ¡°He wasn''t making it up, was he?¡± I found myself asking that in a hesitant voice, not even sure why I was saying it. ¡°He really was the one responsible for your dad. And then you were¡­¡± Dammit, stop talking, Cassidy! You don''t need to fill the silence.


    After a brief hesitation, Amber gave a quick, somewhat jerky nod. ¡°It was him. He stole that car and took it on a joyride. I don''t think he meant to hit my dad. He said it was an accident, and that part I believe.¡± Her voice sounded hollow, like she had cried for so long that there just wasn''t that sort of emotion in her anymore. ¡°But everything he did after that was intentional. I''m sure he killed more people besides my dad and that reporter lady. He probably let others get away when he could''ve stopped them. Who knows how much damage he did. I mean, the whole reason he wanted to join the Scions is because he thought Cup was hot. He was totally fucked up. He was¡­ was¡­¡±


    With that, she pivoted on one foot and walked away from us, standing right on the edge of the roof to stare out at the city beyond. Her fists were clenched. ¡°He was an evil, psychotic bastard. I shouldn''t feel guilty about letting him die. I shouldn''t. He would''ve killed a lot more people if he had a chance. He could have turned himself in. He could''ve worked it off. He could''ve talked to any of us. We would have worked out a way to help him. If he wasn''t such a piece of shit, we could''ve done something. Even if I didn¡¯t forgive him, they could have transferred him. They would have transferred him. But he was. He was evil. He chose that. Maybe my dad was an accident, but none of the rest were. He knew what he was doing, and he liked it.¡±


    She trailed off into silence, still standing with her back to us while her head slowly lowered to tuck her chin against her chest with a heavy sigh. ¡°So why the fuck do I still keep crying whenever I think of his face when I teleported away without him? I left him to die. I knew what I was doing. I knew what it meant and that he wouldn''t survive. I knew all that rubble was going to kill him, and I still left him. I didn''t arrest him. I thought he''d get away. He still had his powers, he still had any weapons that might''ve been on him, and I was exhausted. I was so tired, so angry, so¡­ so done. If I teleported him out, he could''ve escaped. Maybe we could''ve tracked him down later. Maybe we could''ve brought him in. Or maybe I could''ve beaten him right there before he got away. Maybe he''d be in prison right now. Hey, maybe they could¡¯ve sent him to Breakwater.¡± She gave a darkly amused snort, which faded immediately.


    ¡°I let him die. I thought it was safer than risking him getting away. I really did think that. But I also wanted to. I wanted to let him die, after what he did to my dad, after what he threatened to do to you, to everyone. I wanted allowing him to die to be the right choice, so maybe I just talked myself into it. I made that choice in that single, tiny moment. And it''s one I am going to have to live with forever. I let someone die. I could''ve saved him, could have teleported him out and tried another way, but I didn''t. I made my choice. And as much as I keep crying whenever I think about it, as sad as I am and as guilty as I feel, the truth is I don''t think I''d change my mind if I had to do it again. He was an evil bastard who killed people. He wanted to do worse, just because he thought Cup was hot. He had no real remorse, and didn''t care about anyone but himself. He was a sociopath, and if I was in the exact same situation again where I could save his life or let him die, I''d still let him die. I made the choice in an instant, but I¡¯ve had hours and hours now, and I¡¯d do the same thing. No matter how guilty it makes me feel.¡±


    She let that hang in the air for a moment, breathing in and out slowly and deliberately a couple times before turning to face us. Her eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles under them. ¡°If that means you don''t want anything to do with me anymore, I understand. I don''t know how I would feel if I was in your position.¡±


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Izzy and I exchanged glances once more before stepping that way. The two of us embraced her again, tugging the girl away from the edge of the roof so we could all sit down together right there. My head shook. ¡°You''re right, Amber, he was a bastard. He was an evil fuck who was fine with killing people just to get what he wanted. Maybe your dad really was an accident, but like you said, he had plenty of opportunities to come forward. He had powers, they would''ve worked out a deal with him and let him work it off. They could''ve handled it, but the only person he cared about was himself. Telling the truth would have been an inconvenience for him, so he didn¡¯t, even after¡­ even after meeting and spending time with the man¡¯s daughter. You made a really hard choice, and you know you''ll never forget about it. I don''t know what I would''ve done if I was you. Mostly because I''m not you. I''ve never been in that position. My dad is alive. I know that thinking about the condition he''s in right now, and what could happen makes me want to kill the man who put both him and my mom there. If I had Pitman in front of me and he was about to die if I didn''t do anything, I don''t know what I would do. I don''t think anyone can know until they''re in that position. But I don''t hate you for it or anything. I''m just glad you''re okay.¡±


    Izzy gave a quick nod of agreement and leaned in to embrace Amber once more. ¡°I''d rather you be alive than him. He was¡­ he was¡­¡± She stopped, closing her eyes tightly while giving a visible shudder. ¡°He pretended to be our friend. He was supposed to be on our side, supposed to be one of us¡­ supposed to protect us¡­¡± Stopping, Izzy bowed her head while folding her arms tightly around her stomach as her face turned a bit pallid.


    Of course, this would hit her even harder than others. Izzy had already had someone else who was supposed to be on her side and protect her turn out to be a traitor. Her own mother had tried to sell her to the bad guys. And now someone who was supposed to be practically a brother to her, a teammate and friend, had sold her out to be killed by an even worse group. Frankly, I was surprised she was holding it together as well as she was. If I was in her position, I probably would have fallen apart much worse by now.


    The three of us hugged one another again, and reiterated that we were going to be there for each other, no matter what happened. I wasn''t sure what the fallout of allowing someone like Whamline to die would be, especially in the current situation. After all, he had been trying to make everything so much worse. If he had succeeded at getting almost the entire Minority killed along with several members of La Casa, I had no idea what would''ve happened. Especially if all those new Scion candidates had actually become full members and helped Pencil pull off whatever his next actual scheme was.


    It would have been really bad, that much was certain. So Amber had probably done the right thing overall, no matter how guilty it made her feel. And no matter how bad the thought that it might be okay sometimes to let someone die made me feel. The whole situation was impossibly complicated, and made worse by Amber¡¯s own personal feelings about him. Hell, the fact that the death she most hated him for had been the only accidental one just made it all worse. It was a massive knot of confusion, guilt, anger, and other feelings that was probably impossible to actually sort out. At least, anytime soon. It was going to take a lot of time, and probably a lot of therapy as well, before Amber would have any hope of accepting exactly what had happened so she could move past it.


    As though she had been thinking about the same thing, Izzy finally interrupted the silence that had fallen over the roof to ask, ¡°What are you going to do now? The¡­ they want to talk to you, to find out everything that happened in your words.¡± She winced a little while saying that, her small hand finding mine before squeezing it.


    Amber, for her part, let out a long, heavy sigh and leaned back to stare at the dark sky for a few moments of silence. ¡°I know they do, and I need to talk to them. I need to talk to my mom too. She''s left about fifty voicemails. I think they told her the whole story. At least as much as they could. She deserves to hear it from me. I need to talk to a lot of people about everything.¡±


    Another heavy sigh came. ¡°I haven''t really decided what I''m going to do after that. If they let me, I think I''d probably want to stay with the Minority. I mean, I still believe in helping people. I lost my dad because of an accident, and the person behind that accident went on to do other bad things while he was a part of the Minority. But that doesn''t make the group bad, and it doesn''t mean we haven''t done a lot of good things.¡± She looked at Izzy. ¡°Maybe we can do even more good without him there sabotaging things.¡± Her voice cracked a little when she said him, but she pushed through it. ¡°Or maybe they''ll just kick me out because they can''t have a murderer on the team. It would look pretty bad.¡±


    Izzy gave a stubborn shake of her head. ¡°They won''t kick you out, they need you. They need all of us, everyone they can get. And besides, they''d be really stupid if they tried to kick you out. He tried to kill all of us. He wanted to join a bunch of murderers and help them kill even more people. It wasn''t just self-defense, you were defending everyone. Even if you did have a reason to be angry at him, that doesn''t make what happened wrong, or even really your fault.¡±


    The three of us sat there and talked a bit more over the next hour or so. But mostly we just sat in silence and took in the situation. At the very least, Amber had something approaching closure for the death of her father. Sure, she would have to deal with the aftermath of that for probably the rest of her life, but the person responsible for that death was gone forever and couldn''t hurt anyone else.


    I was pretty sure it was going to take a while before she fully accepted that. But still, it was something.


    After that, our stomachs growled, and both Izzy and I remembered that we hadn''t actually eaten anything earlier. Amber had contacted us while we were still looking through the refrigerators.


    The other girl was just as hungry, so we changed clothes and went to find a place to eat. Which apparently reminded Amber that Whamline¡¯s family owned a diner, and her face went ashen again as she murmured something about how they were going to react. Izzy and I both had to insist that she stay away from that place. Now wasn''t the time for her to go apologize or try to explain anything. She had to leave them alone.


    Instead, we found a place where we could sit in the back corner and talk quietly while eating a mountain of cheese fries and sandwiches and drinking milkshakes. While we were there, Izzy (after a glance to me to make sure it was okay) informed Amber about my recent decision about the type of person I was. Amber, in turn, smiled at me. ¡°How does it feel?¡±


    I offered a weak shrug. ¡°Honestly, I''m not sure yet. In a way it''s still brand new, because I just figured it out, or just accepted it, or whatever. But in another way, it''s just who I''ve been my entire life. It''s simultaneously brand new, and so old I don''t even feel different. I know that''s weird, but maybe that''s just because I''m weird.¡±


    ¡°We''re all weird," Amber informed me. ¡°So you''re in good company there. And no matter what pronouns you use, you''ll always be Cassidy.¡±


    Her words made me blush, shifting a little in my seat before I took another bite of delicious food and made a sound of approval deep in my throat. ¡°I am so glad they dropped the whole curfew thing.¡±


    ¡°They had to,¡± Amber pointed out, ¡°you can''t keep something like that going for long. Too many people have places to go, and with the city locked down like this, there''s a lot of extra work that has to be done. Besides, it also means that peoples¡¯ nerves are on edge.¡±


    ¡°Well whatever the reason, I''m glad it means we can eat actual food like this no matter how late it is,¡± I replied.


    We all made noises of agreement while eating more of our milkshakes. Then our phones chimed. Just like earlier when Amber had messaged Izzy and me, all three went off at once. We fumbled with them, before finding a message from Caishen. Each of us had received the same one, as, presumably, had everyone else she had contact information for.


    They had a plan to deal with Pencil, a way to get him and all the other psychos out of that building. But they needed all the help they could get to pull it off and make sure he went down for good this time.


    ¡°Well, at least we managed to fuel up,¡± I noted.


    ¡°Because it sure sounds like we''re about to need all the energy we can get.¡±


    </a>

 Acceptance 29-08

    Needless to say, none of the people on my team wanted to miss out on the chance to actually do something about the Scions. It didn''t take long before we were all gathered near the entrance to the Ten Towers main lot. I was there with Qwerty perched on my helmet, as we stood right alongside Alloy, Style, Poise, Calvin, and Hobbes, with Trevithick waiting in the nearby van to see what she could do. I had made it clear that while she could come to see what was going on and how she might be able to contribute, she was not going into that apartment building if and when the time came. Fred had backed me up, and was in the van as well, with his own mask to hide his identity.


    Rubi had gone over to talk to Caishen to tell her that she was accepting the offer to join them, while Amber was inside somewhere, having a very long and probably hard conversation with a bunch of adults about what she was going to do now. Though I felt quite certain that it wasn''t going to be the last or the longest conversation about that. They were basically just going through preliminaries to determine whether she could help with this immediate situation right now. I could see the remaining members of the Minority, Raindrop, Wobble, Syndicate, Carousel, and Fragile standing on the other side of the lot, watching the building where Amber had gone. She¡¯d had just enough time to have a short reunion with them (well, the ones besides Izzy) before having to go inside. Not nearly long enough to actually talk about everything they needed to.


    Besides our two teams, the two conscious and ready members of the Spartans, Skin-Head and Versed, were apparently teaming up with the Ten Towers group of Skip, Ephemera, Stick, Bunglebotch, and Linesight. They didn''t have much in the way of choices, since the rest of their team was out of commission.


    Then there were the Seraphs, or at least the ones who were going in. Hallowed was here, standing out in his bright, glowing gold armor and clearly metallic wings with a massive sword strapped to his back, directly between the wings. Beside him stood Gloam, one of the Seraphs I hadn¡¯t had any real interaction with so far. Her costume made her look sort of like an armored Grim Reaper. It was a black cloak with a hood that was open over dark-colored body armor with a slightly glowing skeleton image painted over the front, and a skull-shaped helmet. She carried a long scythe that could convert into a rifle of some sort. Gloam¡¯s power allowed her to create areas of darkness and areas of light. Not only did that mean she could make it harder for people to see, but she could also take anyone who was in one of her darkness areas and make a duplicate of them in the light area. If she did that with Touched, she could actually give the duplicates their powers, but they were weaker than the original. And the more powers she copied that way, the weaker they were. But still, Gloam was pretty strong and could definitely turn the tide of a big fight.


    Lucent was there too, of course. He was perched on the shoulder of another Seraph. This guy was on the smaller side, a few inches under six feet and with a thin build. He wore a white bodysuit with a dark red cape, a red mask with a white horizontal strip like a blindfold around where his eyes were (the eyes themselves were completely covered so the material must have been see-through), and red boots and gloves. His name was Turf, another member of the Seraphs I hadn¡¯t interacted with before. From what I understood, his power was somewhat similar to Hallowed in that he affected the area around him. But whereas Hallowed empowered an area to make himself and his allies stronger and his enemies weaker the longer he stayed there (and empowered the objects he carried and wore), Turf could basically create various areas of any size or shape, as long as he could physically see them, and change any numbers of factors within each area. He could make them very warm or very cold, create wind, make any non-living material incredibly bouncy, slippery, sharp, hard, soft, anything like that and probably more. And he could do all that in multiple different areas at once. He could make a ten foot circle around someone he was fighting incredibly cold, with slippery ground and an oppressive wind blowing right into their eyes, while creating another area right next to it where the ground was very bouncy so that his allies could jump over a wall.


    Oh, and of course Patchwork was there too. Though she definitely wasn''t in healing mode. It was easy to forget that her power had combat applications as well. For healing, she might have copied the status of any body part she touched onto another matching part, but she was also capable of physically manifesting the parts of any person or animal onto her own body. That included creating larger versions of animal parts that would actually work for her. And she could mix and match as needed. In this case, the woman had obviously visited the zoo. Because she had the armored scales of a crocodile all over her body, along with massive gorilla arms, tiger-like paws with their attached claws, a thick shell on her back like a turtle, and what looked like the head and face of some sort of bird of prey. Probably so she could see a long distance.


    Qwerty was spinning in circles on top of my head, taking all this in at the same time as me. He kept calling out greetings to everyone, introducing himself and waving cheerfully. The poor little guy had been so starved for any interaction that he was ecstatic to be around so many people now. I was pretty sure he was slapping labels on them with his power, which might end up causing potential issues with secret identities later, but that was a conversation I would have with him when we had a moment. At the very least, I was going to tell him not to actively use it to expose anyone, and that if he did identify any Star-Touched later, to keep it to himself unless it was an emergency. That probably wouldn¡¯t solve every issue, but it was something.


    Even as I was thinking about that, another group approached to join the assembled teams. Two of the newcomers I recognized immediately. They were Kriegspiel (a tall guy around six foot five with long gray-black hair, who wore a brown duster over tan body armor, with a black mask over the bottom half of his face and an Indiana Jones-like sable fedora) and RePete (black turtleneck, green camo pants, army boots, green ski mask). As usual, both of them had guns, though RePete won on sheer quantity. Whereas Kriegspiel wore two simple-looking (but definitely Touched-Tech) revolvers on either hip, RePete had the same, along with a shotgun over his back, another pistol on either ankle, and two more pistols halfway up either arm. And that was just what we could see. The guy liked guns. Probably because his power allowed him to rewind a few seconds and try a couple more times if he missed the first shot.


    Like Skin-Head and Versed for the Spartans, those two were the only active members of the Conservators. But rather than join one of the other teams, they seemed to have come with their own reinforcements. The first one I recognized was Echo, the former Minority member turned mercenary years ago, in her dark blue trench coat, black cargo pants, and white helmet with blue visor. She was the one who had turned in Jennica, and apparently she had stuck around.


    Alongside those three was a guy I recognized only through the news. It was Big Top, a Conservator Touched from Chicago. Despite the name, he was only about five foot eleven inches tall, wearing a costume that wasn¡¯t too unlike Grandstand¡¯s, with the whole ringmaster motif. His consisted of black pants, a red and black long-tailed coat, golden shirt with a red bowtie, and a black top hat with gold around the band. If I remembered right, his own power had something to do with being able to manifest all the abilities of people from the circus, though with exaggerated effect. Like his ¡®strong man¡¯ could actually lift several tons, and his lion tamer could literally control non-TONI animals.


    Finally, bringing up the rear while staying several feet away from everyone else was another vaguely familiar figure. She had dark burgundy pants that had very intricate-looking gold patterns running across them. They almost looked like script or lettering of some sort, though I couldn¡¯t actually decipher anything legible out of them. Her long-sleeved shirt was the opposite, gold with burgundy lines running along the arms, while her gloves and boots were black. She also wore a burgundy helmet with a gold visor so we couldn¡¯t make out anything about her face.


    It took me a second to remember her name. Lexeme. She was another Chicago member of the Conservators. Normally I wouldn¡¯t have known anything about the powers of someone who operated so far away (I only knew Big Top¡¯s because there was a time when I¡¯d thought he and Grandstand had some sort of connection so I looked it up), but in this case, hers stood out a lot. Basically she could say any word and that word would appear in physical form, like she was in a comic book and it was a word bubble or something. Though without the bubble. Anyway, the words she manifested had their own powers related to what she wanted and what the word was. I¡¯d seen video footage of her saying the word ¡®SHARP¡¯ and making each letter of the word fly off to cut through a bunch of chains. It was neat.


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    ¡°Uh,¡± Peyton, moving up beside me, spoke softly. ¡°Did we suddenly teleport to Chicago and nobody told me? I thought we were locked down.¡±


    She was talking quietly, but evidently not quietly enough. Big Top turned to look our way, giving a light chuckle before waving. ¡°Hey there! Sorry to intrude on the party, but our superiors thought it might be good to send in some reinforcements for our counterparts here.¡± He gestured toward RePete and Kriegspiel. ¡°From what we¡¯ve heard, you¡¯ve all been doing a lot to pick up the slack. It¡¯s some damn good work. Now with a little extra help from Echo here, maybe we can all team up to put this Scions problem to bed once and for all so the city can start putting itself back together.¡±


    Echo, for her part, grunted. ¡°I told you all before, I¡¯m only here to make sure there¡¯s still a Detroit left when Flea wakes up. Don¡¯t start clearing out any offices for me or plan for me at the team Fourth of July party. This is strictly a temporary situation. Very temporary.¡±


    Oh right, yeah, Echo and Flea had been friends back when they were on the Minority. I vaguely remembered reading something about that. It was before I was old enough to really pay attention too much, but Echo had decided to become a mercenary and took off before ever graduating from the Minority, whereas Flea had stuck around and joined the Conservators. I had no idea how much bad blood there was between them for that, but apparently it wasn¡¯t enough to stop Echo from wanting to do something to help Flea during all this. That made me wonder if she¡¯d want to step in and help when it came time to actually deal with Pittman. Since she wasn¡¯t officially part of the Conservators and had turned Sell-Touched a long time ago, there was a good chance she wouldn¡¯t tell anyone what we were doing. And she also probably didn¡¯t have any connection to the Ministry, since as far as I knew she had made it a point not to operate anywhere near Michigan until now.


    It was something to think about, at least.


    Style, stepping up on my other side, spoke casually. ¡°Anyone who wants to help stop this place from getting flushed completely down the toilet is welcome in my book.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Hobbes agreed from somewhere behind me, ¡°we prefer our city only be half-flushed. Clogged toilet Detroit for the win!¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I shook my head. ¡°Ignore her, we all want to make Detroit as good as it can be.¡± Hearing Murphy start to speak up again, I pointedly added, ¡°Better than a clogged toilet.¡±


    ¡°Goals to shoot for,¡± Echo dryly muttered. Then she looked toward the nearby building. ¡°So are we actually gonna find out what this grand plan is, or are we just supposed to guess?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± Kriegspiel informed us while tapping the side of his head as though indicating his communicator. ¡°Just had to sort out a few things.¡± His gaze flicked over toward the Minority, who seemed even more anxious to find out what was going on with their teammate. I was kind of surprised they were remaining as calm as they were, to be honest. Maybe it had to do with feeling pretty subdued after everything that happened. Or maybe they were just more disciplined than I would¡¯ve been.


    Either way, Kriegspiel wasn¡¯t wrong. The doors of the building opened, and several figures emerged. That-A-Way was first, walking briskly ahead of the two following her. That was Caishen and a stuffy-looking man in a suit with sunglasses and a very generic-looking blond haircut who looked like he should¡¯ve been guarding the president or something. He was saying something to Amber that I couldn¡¯t pick out. But whatever it was, it made a very slight smile cross her face. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t tell if that was a good smile or a dangerous one. There didn¡¯t seem to be much humor to it. But then, that could just be because of the whole situation. It was hard to read from here.


    On the plus side, at least she was walking out on her own and they hadn¡¯t tried to do anything stupid like arrest her or whatever. I really didn¡¯t think they would, to be fair, but dumber things had happened.


    As the trio approached, Amber split off to go join her team. They surrounded her and were clearly whispering every question they could think of about what was going on and if she was okay. Meanwhile, Caishen and the guy in the suit kept approaching while the rest of us all gathered together. The man himself (seriously, he looked so generic I was almost convinced it was a superpower) was the first to speak. ¡°Welcome, thanks to all of you for coming! For those who don¡¯t know me, my name is Four. I¡¯m ahh--well, here to help.¡±


    Ohhh it was one of those guys. The larger, international part of Ten Towers employed several Touched people with various mental-based powers, whose entire thing was about problem solving. Whether it was by building the right gadgets, saying the right thing to the right person, or recognizing when some outside force was affecting their profits, the group known as ¡®The Tallymen¡¯ kept the Ten Towers leadership happy. I wasn¡¯t sure what Four¡¯s specific powers were, but if he was here it was both because the Ten Towers board of directors wanted this lockdown resolved, and believed he could actually contribute. Given he was the one talking right now, I assumed he had an actual plan.


    Sure enough, once everyone was paying attention, the man explained. ¡°We¡¯ve thoroughly analyzed the forcefield being used to surround the apartment building where Pencil and his people are holed up, and we¡¯ve discovered a slight weakness. While entirely impenetrable by most means, the shield reacts curiously when subjected to the energy generated by the transportation watch my colleagues and I wear.¡± He held up his arm, showing us an expensive and elegant-looking silver timepiece on his wrist. ¡°These watches are what we use to transport ourselves to one another or to any of our headquarters. From our examination and subsequent testing, rather than entirely repelling the energy used in that transport, the shield around the building seems to magnify and scatter the effect. Though only for a relatively short and unpredictable radius surrounding the targeted area.¡±


    As everyone just stared at him after that, Caishen translated. ¡°When they hit the shield with the energy they use to teleport, it sends that energy into anyone within the shield and transports them somewhere else. By short, unpredictable radius, he means they can¡¯t determine where the people inside will be transported, but it will be somewhere within the city limits.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± Versed put in, ¡°are you saying we can hit that building with some big teleportation beam and send everyone inside it somewhere else in the city? But we don¡¯t know where they¡¯ll go?¡±


    ¡°We can narrow the general areas to several possibilities,¡± Four explained. ¡°But we can¡¯t predict which people will end up where. That¡¯s where your teams come in. We¡¯ll give each of you an area to cover. When we hit the building with our upgraded transportation beam, your jobs, if you choose to accept the mission, will be to safely extract any former hostages and handle any aggressors who end up in the area.¡±


    ¡°If you see any Fells, especially Pencil, call it in immediately,¡± Caishen added. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all been given the briefing about his potential weakness.¡± She glanced over her shoulder, where I could see Rubi with her simple borrowed ski mask and gloves, before turning back. ¡°Anything you hit him with, just keep hitting him with the same thing over and over again.¡±


    ¡°If they¡¯re just being transported randomly,¡± Bunglebotch put in, ¡°how are we supposed to find them even if we have a general area? What if they teleport into a house or anywhere else out of sight?¡±


    Four plucked a small cell phone-like device out of his pocket. ¡°Thanks to these. You¡¯ll each be given one. They scan for the specific energy given off by those affected by our teleportation watches, which should last for upwards of forty-five minutes after the transport. Anyone within your designated area who was teleported that way should light this thing up like a Christmas tree and lead you right to them. And, as a bonus, we believe this scattered transport will temporarily inhibit other instantaneous transportation methods.¡± He waited a moment before clarifying, ¡°Pencil won¡¯t be able to use his other teleportation effects to escape for at least a little while.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the very best plan in the world,¡± Caishen noted, ¡°but it¡¯s the best chance we have to deal with this right now, before that sick bastard does anything else to hurt the people in that building. We¡¯ll all have to work together to cover every possible area where this teleportation scattershot could send the people in that building, and you¡¯ll need to be quick. Find every hostage and get them into cover, and contain any of the Scions, Fell or Prev. Emergency services are already locking down all the streets so we don¡¯t have people teleporting into the middle of oncoming traffic.


    ¡°So, who¡¯s ready to do this?¡±

 Acceptance 29-09

    No wonder they had put out the call for so many people to join in on this little mission. Now we had a way to get the Scions out of that apartment building, but they could end up anywhere in Detroit after that. Not to mention all their hostages. There was a whole massive city out there full of buildings, streets, parks, alleys, and more for them to pop into. The only real advantage we had on that point was that according to all the calculations the big brain people had done, no one would end up appearing thirty feet in the air or anything like that. They couldn''t determine exactly where they would go but it would always be somewhere with solid ground under their feet and enough space to fit in.


    Oh, and of course we also had the scanner things so we could actually find them. But even then we were going to have to move around with the things until something pinged. We had to hope all the bad guys ended up close enough for any of us to find them quickly, because even with everyone who had shown up for this, it was still an awfully large area to cover. I was having terrible thoughts about Pencil somehow managing to squirm his way out of this and past all of our searchers just so he could end up doing something even worse before we could find and stop him. Especially if he was separated from his sick sister. Seriously, how would he react to that?


    I didn¡¯t want to think about it, no matter what the voice in the back of my mind kept whispering. We were going to do this because it was our only real choice. Pencil knew his group on the outside had been taken down, which had to mean he would be getting even angrier in there. He had been utterly unpredictable at the best of times. Now? With his back against the wall, his sister in trouble, and all his new recruits plus one of his longtime partners in custody? He was about to explode and everyone around him would be caught in the blast. We couldn¡¯t let that happen to those people.


    Of course, all of this also risked people who hadn¡¯t been involved getting hurt, or worse. We couldn''t control where these psychopaths would end up. This whole thing could go horrifically wrong. But we had to do something. We had to try at least. I was just glad I wasn''t the one who¡¯d had to make this choice. I wasn''t sure what I would have done.


    But now the choice was made. We were doing it, and we just had to do everything in our power to make sure it didn''t blow up in our faces. Please, let us get through this without being responsible for any more deaths. If Pencil got free and lashed out¡­


    No, stop thinking about that. I needed to focus on what I could affect right now.


    To that end, I looked around the roof of the office building I was standing on along with Alloy and Qwerty. Across the wide street and down a fair distance I could barely make out the roof of another building where Poise, Trevithick, and Calvin were. From here, I could basically only make out vague shapes. Turning the other way revealed a building in the opposite direction where I could see the tiny forms of Style and Hobbes. All three of our groups had our own scanner, and we were spread out enough to cover as much ground as possible, each at the very edge of the other group¡¯s range. If any of the people in that apartment building, good or bad, showed up around here, we would pick it up. All over the city, every other team was doing the same, splitting into smaller pairs or trios and getting ready to jump into action. And speaking of jumping into action, my eyes flicked upwards to look at a countdown timer that was projected on the inside of my visor. Forty-five seconds. Less than a minute before they were going to hit the building with that beam and scatter everyone inside.


    All traffic in the city had been stopped. At least as much as we could, on any of the big streets. One of the last things we wanted was to end up with people appearing in front of a speeding semi that couldn¡¯t stop in time. Every cop, firefighter, ambulance, hell even garbage trucks, anyone that could be put into service had been sent to shut down the streets. No one was told exactly why they had to stop, and they weren¡¯t exactly happy about it. But they¡¯d just have to deal with it and find out what was going on once this was over. Something told me they wouldn¡¯t object nearly as much once we could explain.


    At least, assuming this entire situation didn¡¯t blow up in our faces.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Boss,¡± Qwerty cheerfully encouraged me while tapping the top of my helmet from his place on my shoulder. ¡°We can deal with this, right? We''ve got it!¡±


    Alloy, stepping up beside me, gave a quick nod of agreement, though her voice caught a bit. ¡°Yeah, we''ve got it.¡± She was looking intently at her own phone, where she also had a timer counting down. The phone shook slightly in her hand as she trembled before catching herself and steadying it. Considering her mom was one of the hostages in that place, I was impressed that she was keeping herself as together as she was. I wasn''t sure how well I would be doing in that situation considering how bad it was just to have my parents affected by the Sleeptalk shit. If they had been in a situation where Pencil could kill them at any moment? I¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure what I would¡¯ve done.


    The timer was down to ten seconds by then, and I took a breath before holding up the scanner. It seriously just looked like a cell phone. The screen showed what looked like a map of the surrounding area with the streets and buildings labeled. With one eye on the countdown timer and another on the screen, I waited anxiously.


    ¡°Teams prepare,¡± came a voice through my helmet as one of the coordinating people back at Ten Towers gave a five second warning. ¡°Three¡­ two¡­. one, engage.¡±


    Obviously it would take a moment for them to hit the button on their device, then another moment for it to do its thing, and yet a third for the people to end up sent wherever they were going to go before the scanner in my hand would pick them up. But that didn''t stop my stomach from dropping when I didn¡¯t instantly see any dots appear. Not only did I immediately start to think that none of the people had been sent near us, but something in my brain decided that the device had failed to work at all. Maybe they hadn¡¯t been teleported anywhere at all and all of this was for nothing. Or worse, what if it had backfired completely and everyone is that building was¡­ was¡­


    Dots began to appear. Four of them. Four dots were right there on the screen. Two inside the very building we were standing on top of, one in the middle of the street below(making me reflexively glad we had stopped all traffic), and a fourth somewhere further down, on the very edge of the scanner¡¯s range but well within the area that Style and Hobbes were covering.


    We didn''t waste a second. As soon as the dots appeared and the scanner beeped I leaned over to look down below. Sure enough, a man was standing there in the middle of the empty street, looking around fearfully like he had no idea what was going on. It had to be disorienting, not to mention terrifying. One moment he had been a hostage to the Scions, and now without any warning at all, he was standing somewhere miles away.


    Shouting for Alloy to check the nearest one in the building, I dove off the roof. But I wasn''t heading for the guy down on the street. At a glance, I could already tell he was one of the hostages, and there were people there to deal with those like him. Already, as I dove straight down, I could see a couple police officers jogging up to take him into protective custody. Until we sorted this whole thing out, everyone who had been in that building would be held by the police, even if they appeared to be innocent victims. There was just no way to be immediately certain whether they were hostages or part of the Scions. They¡¯d just have to sort all that out later, once everyone was safely contained.


    With Qwerty plummeting beside me, loudly squealing his delight with those wings of his spread to catch the air, I watched the scanner in one hand. There. Two dots had appeared inside the building. I had sent Alloy after the nearest one, which was labeled as being on the thirtieth floor (out of forty-five). The two of us were in constant communication, and could link in the rest of the team with a word. If she ran into trouble, she¡¯d let me know.


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    Meanwhile, the other dot was marked as being on the eleventh floor. I let myself fall almost that far, then used a bit of orange paint for protection before shooting twin lines of red and black at a window one floor up from my target. The red yanked me that way, while the black ensured I wouldn¡¯t instantly give myself away if there was a threat inside.


    Landing smoothly against the glass on my hands and knees with my head angled down toward the street, I waited until Qwerty came down against my back and clung there. Then I carefully leaned down to peek through the window of the floor right below this one. If this scanner was accurate, the person who had been sent there from that apartment building would be riiiiight--


    There he was. It wasn¡¯t Pencil, a fact I was both glad and upset about. Part of me wanted to see that bastard so I¡¯d know exactly where he was, while another part didn¡¯t want to get anywhere near him. But it wasn¡¯t a normal hostage either. No, the person I saw looking wildly around what turned out to be an open floor full of cubicles was Fork. It couldn¡¯t be anyone else. The guy looked like a five foot, eight inch tall anthropomorphic porcupine. There were some people who thought he was a mutated TONI, especially with that very rodent-like face. But no, he was a man who had been altered by his powers to look like this. And right now, he looked very angry. Confused as well, of course. But mostly angry. I supposed you didn''t really need to understand the intricate details about what was going on to know that you had just been royally fucked over.


    If any of us spotted any of the Touched members of the Scions, we were supposed to pull back, call it in, and wait for reinforcements while simply keeping track of them on the scanner so they couldn''t disappear. That was the plan, anyway. But there was an immediate problem with that in this case. Namely, there were innocent people inside that office. I could see a bunch of random employees who had apparently been working very late all cowering on the far side of the room, trying to keep the cubicles between them and the monster who had just appeared in their office. And from the way Fork was turning toward them, he had no intention of waiting to find out they hadn''t had anything to do with this. He was pissed off and about to take it out on the nearest target.


    No matter how dangerous it was, I couldn¡¯t let those people be that target.


    So, I quickly blurted the command to link me not only to my team, but also to the people back at Ten Towers, letting all of them know what was going on. Then I used pink paint to make a circle on the window. Just before the angry Scion could take it out on the people in there, I swung myself over and down, kicking through the circle with my feet to fling myself into the room. On the way, I shouted, ¡°Boy, is Scotty¡¯s aim off with that transporter or what?!¡± The second my feet touched the ground, I was already launching myself upward, using a tiny bit of blue on my shoes to make sure I rebounded immediately toward the ceiling. ¡°You ask for a quick trip to Tahiti and end up working a nine-to-five!¡±


    Yeah, nothing I was saying actually made sense. The words were just one step away from being complete gibberish. It didn¡¯t matter though, given the entire point was to get Fork¡¯s attention before he ended up hurting anyone. And at that, I was wildly successful. No sooner had those last words left my mouth, as my Wren-provided boots kept me upside down against the ceiling, than I had three different dangerous quills shooting straight at me. The quills sliced through the air like hurled knives. But the real danger wasn¡¯t in them cutting me. Any time he wanted to, Fork could make those quills explode. Sure, the explosions weren¡¯t huge, but they were still enough to put me down for the count, especially if all three hit me at the same time. Not to mention what they would do to poor little Qwerty, who was still clinging to my back.


    But I didn''t dodge the incoming quills. I did nothing to avoid them at all. In fact, I flung myself off the ceiling and straight at them. I could see a small smirk playing at Fork¡¯s rodent-like face, a smirk that turned into a vindictive sneer as he triggered all three explosions right when the quills were directly in front of me. He might have been confused about how he ended up in this place, but one thing he knew for certain: he was going to enjoy hurting me.


    It was an eagerness he ended up immediately regretting. Because I had painted both my back and Qwerty with a mixture of orange and blue. As we passed through the trio of small explosions that sent the chairs and desks around us flying in every direction, it was Fork who ended up taking the brunt of that damage. The orange-blue paint reflected all that concussive force right back onto him, bringing a startled squeal-curse as the mutated man was flung backward to slam hard into a filing cabinet. Even as he bounced off it and staggered, I had already used red paint on the wall behind him to send myself flying that way, so my feet crashed right into his snout with enough force to knock him down completely.


    My momentum carried me over the falling figure, and I felt Qwerty jump off to glide off to the side. Rolling as I hit the floor, I shouted for the other people in the room to get out of there, to run! Then I dove to the side, vaulting up to catch the side of a cubicle wall so I could throw myself up and over it. In the process, I left a spot of red on the front of that cubicle wall, activating both that and a matching spot I¡¯d left on Fork¡¯s face when I crashed into him. He¡¯d just barely managed to lift his head before taking the thing right in the snout.


    Qwerty had glided around to the far side of the open office floor by then, and his colorful form passed over the heads of the fleeing civilians as he called out for them to keep running and that we were there to save them. Meanwhile, I could hear Alloy saying something about how she¡¯d secured a civilian up there and was already on her way down. But I couldn¡¯t wait for her, or for any of the others. Fork wasn¡¯t going to play nice for that long. He¡¯d already figured out that shooting at me was a bad idea. But all those office workers were another story, and they hadn¡¯t made it out of sight yet. Even as I was scrambling back to my feet from where I¡¯d flung myself, seven quills were shooting that way, too quickly for me to do anything.


    But I wasn¡¯t the only one here. Qwerty dove, using one of his wings to smack a quill out of the way, even as his paws grabbed two more and flung them into another pair. He was spinning like a tornado, one of his back feet lashing out to kick the sixth quill up into the ceiling. And that last one he took right in the chest just as it exploded. But, of course, he was still covered in my blue-orange paint. So not only was he protected, but the force went slamming right back into Fork. Just like that, my tiny parrot-squirrel friend had saved all those people by stopping seven dagger-like quills in midair.


    Fork, meanwhile, was reeling from that reflected explosion, which I was ready for. As the man stumbled backwards, he stepped on a blue-red circle I put right under his feet. That made the floor incredibly slippery, sending him crashing down onto his stomach with a cry of rage and disorientation. In the next second, I was already there. His position left those dangerous quills facing me, but before he could do anything with them, I dropped in front of him, grabbed his extended hands, and hooked a set of stay-down cuffs onto them. Then I used red paint to yank over a discarded windbreaker from its place on a nearby chair, and wrapped it around his face as a blindfold, tying it as tightly as I could.


    By the time Fork had any idea what had happened, he couldn¡¯t go anywhere, and he couldn¡¯t see. But he could still talk, and was busy cursing up a storm about everything he was going to do to us once he got out.


    Quickly stepping away from him, I looked over to see the elevator doors closing as the fleeing civilians finally got out of there. Qwerty was perched on the back of a chair, panting as he stared at me with wide eyes before giving a thumbs up. And a moment later, the stairwell door slammed open as Alloy came flying through on one of her marble hoverboards. She took in the scene, stopping short to float there on her board.


    Before I could respond to either of them, a call came over the communicator. ¡°Hey--hey anyone out there, we need help. The radio¡¯s damaged so I don¡¯t know who¡¯s getting this. We¡¯re holding them back as much as we can but--but--¡± The voice sounded terrified. ¡°It¡¯s Pencil, him and--and some of his people. They¡¯re in the building. They¡¯re trying to break onto the hospital floor.¡±


    Then the voice told us where they were, and my blood went cold. Oh¡­. oh no. We¡¯d been afraid of where these guys might end up, but I¡¯d never even considered this possibility.


    Pencil was in the Conservators building, and he was about to break onto the floor where my parents were.

 Acceptance 29-10

    There was a time, incredibly recently in fact, when hearing that Pencil was about to be in the same area as my basically unconscious and completely helpless parents would have sent me into a completely mindless sprint that way without the slightest thought about anyone else who could help. Everything about my friends, my team, and anyone else would have completely vanished along with most of my capacity for coherent thought as my entire focus would have gone toward nothing but getting there faster.


    But this time, after what had just happened with the Scions candidates and how easily I could have ended up dead along with my sister and friends if the rest of my team hadn''t shown up to stop those reinforcements, things were different. Not drastically so, to be fair. I was still panicking, but I retained at least enough thought to open our group call with the rest of the team so I could shout (mostly coherently, which was a big plus) about what was going on and that I was going over there right fucking now.


    At the same time, I was using both hands to shoot red-green paint at the corner of the window I had to come through and used that to rocket myself through the open room and back out into the night air. I heard Alloy behind me shout that she was coming and for Qwerty to jump on, before she shifted over to the conference call with the nearby police units to tell them where Fork was and that they needed to come take him before he managed to escape. Her words were a jumbled mess to my ears, but that was probably just because of my own panic because the cops sent an acknowledgement and said they would be right up with a containment unit. Some part of me knew that was good, since no matter how secure the porcupine-like man was with those stay-down cuffs, if he was left alone long enough I had no doubt he¡¯d manage to get free to do God knew what to anyone he could get his hands (or quills) on. That small part of my brain knew he was dangerous, but all I could think about was the other danger. The one facing my parents, while they had absolutely no way to protect themselves.


    By that point, I had passed through the window, even as the rest of the team assured me that they were right behind me as well. I barely heard them while free-falling through the air for about fifteen feet before managing to send a shot of red at the corner of the building across the street to yank myself up that way. As I went flying, barely touching down on a blue spot I¡¯d hit that bit of wall with before using that to launch myself forward and higher, I was already shifting over to a private call with That-A-Way. Breathlessly, I told her what was going on while landing on the edge of another building to run along the brick wall there. I hurriedly told her about how it had sounded like whoever was protecting the building was already being overwhelmed and that someone had to get there right now.


    Amber promised she would get free from the fight they were already in right then, and get over there with the rest of the Minority the second they could. She also promised to contact Caishen and spread the word just in case no one else had picked up that message so more reinforcements would be on the way. I didn''t know if that would be soon enough, but I had to hope. Hope was all I had right now. Pencil was a psychotic, mass-murdering piece of shit who thought it was fun to torture, maim, and kill innocent people at the best of times. That was when he was in a good mood. Right now, he would basically be like a rabid animal. His sister was in trouble and his latest plans to deal with that had been foiled, resulting in the capture of all his new recruits as well as his established teammate. Technically I wasn''t actually sure if Pencil gave the slightest shit about Box, but at the very least, he probably saw the man as an asset to help his sister. And he definitely cared about her. All of that had gone wrong, his sister was still in trouble, and now he had been ejected from the building he should''ve been safe in. Worse, from his perspective, he probably had absolutely no idea where his sister even was right now. He was already about as panicked about her as I was about my parents, and unlike me, he didn¡¯t know how to find her. He had all that rage and fear about what might be the only person on the planet he actually cared about, no way to help her right then, and a whole building full of helpless people in front of him.


    Yeah, with those thoughts running through my head, I was even more terrified about what that bastard might do. He was always unpredictable, and right now? Right now he might just want to burn down the entire city with everyone in it. He definitely wouldn''t hesitate to kill anyone he ran into over there. Hell, the second he figured out where he was, the fucker would probably think it was Christmas. Seriously, he wanted hostages that the rest of the city would actually negotiate for and give him anything he wanted in exchange? He probably couldn¡¯t have landed in a better place if he tried. Every vulnerable Star-Touched, every authority figure, every important person who had been in that building when the Sleeptalk attack happened (including the richest couple in the state) were in there. Forget just helping his sister and giving her back to him, if Pencil managed to get that building and the people in it under his control, he could demand anything he wanted. Unless we managed to get there in time to stop him.


    I had no idea who else had actually heard that message before it was cut off. I didn''t know what exactly was going on in that place, what other Touched might show up to help, or how bad the overall situation was. All I knew was that I had to get there and stop Pencil, no matter what it took.


    By that point, Alloy had caught up with me. I jumped sideways off the building I had been running along, landing on the open spot of the wide hoverboard she had made. A quick shot of green sped the thing up before I pointed. ¡°That way, between those buildings!¡± I had been visiting that place enough, and just generally painting my way through the city, that I knew the best route.


    Immediately, she sent the board that way while Qwerty jumped off her shoulder and over to mine. I reached up to scratch him while doing my very best not to tell the other girl to hurry up. She was going as fast as she could. I knew that, I knew it. I also knew that if I used all my paint trying to get myself to the building even faster, I wouldn¡¯t have anything left in the tank to actually help anyone once I was there. No, hard as it was, as panicked as I was, I had to breathe. I had to hope that the guards in that place could keep things under control long enough for us to get there this way. The rest of the team was coming, That-A-Way and the Minority would be on their way, and everyone else would have been alerted by now. Someone would get there in time. Someone would be able to stop Pencil before this turned into the sort of tragedy that--


    An image went flashing through my mind. I was standing on Anthony¡¯s back patio, seeing his dead mother, seeing Anthony himself just before he was shot in the head. I was seeing his entire family and the rest of the household staff. I was seeing all of them dead, murdered in cold blood. I saw them, and I saw my own family. I saw what Pencil would do if he had the chance. An animalistic noise escaped me as I half-doubled over right there on the flying marbleboard. Faster, faster, we had to go faster! I shot another bit of green at the board to speed us up again, while Peyton promised she was pushing it as hard as she could. Only then did I realize I was mumbling, ¡®faster faster¡¯ out loud, and made myself stop.


    We really were going incredibly fast as far as flying on a board like this went. Qwerty was clinging to my stomach while I held him with one arm, and I had to crouch down a bit to brace myself. Peyton had formed a binding up and over her own feet as well as mine, like what you buckled your foot into on a snowboard to make sure you stayed attached to it. Part of me wondered if that was as much to stop me from running off on my own again as it was to stop me from falling. But either way, it worked.


    Paige called in, letting us know they had the van and were on their way. Apparently they even had a few cop cars with them. And in the distance, I could see a police helicopter swinging around to head for the same place we were going. They¡¯d gotten word too. God, I hoped it would be enough. I hoped the guards in that building could hold off Pencil and whatever goons he¡¯d managed to take in there with him. Whatever--


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Wait. Hang on, how did Pencil end up in that building with some of his people? That teleport thing was supposed to send everyone to random locations, right? What were the odds that it would just happen to send Pencil himself into the worst possible location he could have ended up in at all, let alone him and what was apparently a not-insignificant number of his own people? Something felt off about that, but I couldn¡¯t decide if I was just being overly paranoid because of the whole situation with my parents, or if there was actually something wrong. Pencil couldn¡¯t have planned for this, right? What if he deliberately set up the forcefield to have that weakness so it could be exploited to send him right to that specific location as a backup plan? But if he did that, why would someone like Fork have ended up somewhere completely different? And it wasn¡¯t just him, there were Scions people and former hostages showing up all over the place, going by several radio calls that had been going out.


    Oh right, a distraction, obviously. I was seeing the effects of that right now as the people who were being told that there was a problem back in the Conservators building were too busy to easily pull themselves away. If I was right, if this really was all part of Pencil¡¯s plan, he¡¯d managed to get all the other teams spread out all over the city dealing with all that, while he and a select group were sent straight into the most vulnerable building in the whole city. And if that was the case, Cup was probably right there with him, where--


    Oh shit. Right where he could force the best doctors in the city to give her the best possible treatments. This whole thing, it wasn¡¯t about panicking. He hadn¡¯t panicked at all. It was all part of his plan, all of it from the very start! Locking himself in an apartment building had always seemed stupid and pointless. But he made everyone look at him, he set up the shield so that we¡¯d think he was trapped, then made us come up with the only way of getting him out. A way he had actually planned on and left open specifically so he could be sent where he wanted to go. I had no idea how he pulled that off, if there was something about the forcefield he was able to adjust and then stand in a certain spot so the teleportation feedback sent him to a specific location, or¡­ or what. I wasn¡¯t sure. But the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that this was all intentional. It made too much sense that way. Far more sense than the idea that he had actually been accidentally and randomly sent there.


    With all that running through my head, I opened the phone line to the rest of the team and told them, along with Qwerty and Alloy right there with me, what I was thinking. Partway through, I felt like a paranoid loon raving about aliens. But then as I went on, my certainty grew once more. Saying it out loud might¡¯ve sounded crazy at first, yet as more and more of my reasoning came out, my doubt vanished. This was it. This was what Penci¡¯s entire plan had been from the start. He¡¯d always intended to trick every Star and Shield who was still active into spreading ourselves thin across the city, then getting himself transported over to the Conservators headquarters so he could take it over. And just like that, he would have everything he needed to help his sister, plus a whole building full of hostages like the chief of police, vulnerable Star-Touched, and my parents.


    At first, the others seemed just as doubtful as I had been when the thought had occurred to me. But when I was finished summing it up, there was a brief pause before Sierra cursed colorfully. That was almost immediately followed by Paige cursing even louder and more colorfully. Unfortunately, knowing that those two clearly believed me wasn''t exactly reassuring. I wanted to be wrong. I wanted everyone to point out a dozen flaws in my reasoning so I could believe that I was just being stupidly paranoid and let it go. Instead, Paige said she was sending a message about what we thought to every other team and the police dispatch center, and telling Caishen that the entire plan might¡¯ve been compromised from the very start. I didn¡¯t know how she or that Four guy would take the idea that they¡¯d been played that effectively, but I had to hope they¡¯d recover quickly and send everyone to that building before Pencil managed to pull this off.


    And speaking of sending everyone, I took a breath before using my phone to make one more call. This one to the Ministry. As soon as someone picked up, I started talking. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s Paintball. You probably know this already, but Pencil¡¯s in the Conservators headquarters. Yeah, with all those bigwigs. If you don¡¯t want him to start lighting them on fire or something, you should probably send everything you¡¯ve got over there.¡± My voice sounded¡­ oddly calm to my own ears. I thought it was probably partly because I knew I had to get my point across, and partly because I was so stressed I¡¯d looped all the way around again. Or maybe I¡¯d lapped myself repeatedly. Either way, I got all that out, trying to ignore the way I¡¯d mentioned Pencil potentially killing my own parents so seemingly casually. I couldn¡¯t let on just how much anyone in there meant to me. That was another reason my voice was flat. I was trying very hard not to give away my own emotional investment.


    Finally, I disconnected after making sure they got the message. By then, we had just come around the last turn. The marble board came to a halt right above the roof of the place across the street from the building in question. We all stared that way, Qwerty clambering up on top of my helmet to get a better look. The building looked empty. There were no snipers on the roof, no guards at the gate or any of the doors, and no one gathered in the lot. It all looked quiet down there. Which somehow scared me even more than if the place had been full of gunfire and screaming. It was like a graveya--


    No. No, Cassidy. Don¡¯t even finish that thought.


    After telling my brain to shut the fuck up, I started focusing even more on what I was seeing. No guards, no signs of violence, nothing. If there had still been people outside, they¡¯d either left or been lured inside somehow. Probably the latter. They¡¯d tried to help the people like my parents, and¡­ and either they were still fighting without any signs escaping the building, or the fighting was over. At the very least, I was pretty sure the building was soundproof and shielded in various ways, so just because we couldn¡¯t hear or see anything from out here didn¡¯t necessarily mean anything. I had to remind myself of that as my heart tried its level best to pound its way out of my chest.


    Peyton lowered the board so we could step off onto the roof of the other building. I wanted to fling myself that way immediately, but we had to at least try to get a better idea of what was going on in there. And, with any luck, go in there with more than just the three of us. If I was right about Pencil having this planned out so extensively, he would be even more dangerous. He hadn¡¯t been taken by surprise, he¡¯d gone into this whole thing knowing what was coming, so he would have all the weapons and special toys he needed. He would be ready to hold out against anyone trying to get in there and stop him.


    Honestly, our only hope was that he hadn¡¯t managed to completely secure the place yet. As long as they were still fighting in there, as long as he didn¡¯t have everything under control, there was still a chance to salvage this whole situation.


    Even as I was focusing my gaze on the area I was pretty sure held my parents, That-A-Way appeared. And she wasn¡¯t alone. Not only did she have Fragile, Wobble, Carousel, Syndicate, and Raindrop with her, but the rest of my team as well. Apparently they¡¯d met up somewhere along the way.


    ¡°He¡¯s really in there, isn¡¯t he?¡± Wobble muttered, stepping next to me as he stared at the building. His voice cracked a bit. ¡°They told us about your theory. You think he planned this whole thing?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± I confirmed. ¡°And I think if we don¡¯t get in there and stop him right now, he¡¯s about to have a whole bunch of the most important people in the city as hostages, along with every bit of research they have into the Sleeptalk cure.¡±


    The others all exchanged looks, as the severity of the situation settled onto all of us. It wasn¡¯t just about saving my parents. If Pencil pulled this off, no one would be able to get in that place. They wouldn¡¯t be able to risk it, not with those hostages and the research Pencil could just destroy. If we were going to stop him, it was now or never.


    ¡°Well,¡± That-A-Way started, ¡°what are we waiting for?


    ¡°Let¡¯s figure out how we¡¯re going to get in there and save the city.¡±

 Acceptance 29-11

    That-A-Way, Raindrop, Carousel, Wobble, all four Syndicates (though only one of them was solid), Fragile, Poise, Style, Calvin, Hobbes, Qwerty, Trevithick, Alloy, and me. It was a large group. But I honestly had no idea if it would be enough to stop whatever Pencil had planned. We were just going to have to take this one thing at a time. And the first thing was getting into the building that loomed in front of us.


    It might not have been a skyscraper or anything. But the building wasn¡¯t small either, and my first instinct was for all of us to split up to cover more ground. Especially since that would mean I could safely go straight to my parents to check on them. But I knew that was a bad idea. When Pencil was involved, especially if he¡¯d actually planned this whole thing out like I now thought he had, our best bet was to stick together. We had absolutely no idea what we might run into. With any luck, more help would be on the way as soon as physically possible. Then we¡¯d be able to search the building faster, assuming the whole situation wasn¡¯t over by then, one way or another. But for now, both of our teams needed to stay in a group and deal with whatever we found together. Because if there was one thing I was completely sure of, it was that Pencil was ready for people to try to get him out of there. We just had to hope he wasn¡¯t ready enough.


    On the other hand, as it turned out, I didn¡¯t have to make up an excuse to check on my parents first. Wobble did that for me. ¡°That side of the building,¡± he announced while pointing right to the general area where I knew my mother and father were being kept. ¡°That¡¯s where they keep the¡­ VIPs. It¡¯s where Pencil would go if he wants the best hostages, and where the guards will fight the hardest to hold. We should go there.¡±


    Even as he said that, the very large (seriously, he was over a foot and a half taller than me) boy glanced down toward Izzy, and I realized what he was really doing. Obviously, Wobble knew that Izzy had been adopted by my parents. He was giving her a chance to check on them, without realizing he was giving me the same opportunity. And his logic still made perfect sense. It really was a good idea to go straight to the area most likely to both be targeted by Pencil and be the most protected. We could get in there, assess the situation, and then figure out what to do from that point.


    Even as those thoughts were running through my mind, I realized the others were all looking at me. Before my panicked, stressed little brain could freak out about what I¡¯d accidentally given away, Carousel spoke up. ¡°You have your shade of pink, which can get us through in a blink? Easier than trying to use a great and mighty smash to break through and take out the trash.¡± Though her rhyming was as casual as ever, I heard a very hard edge in that last word. Trash. She wanted to hurt Pencil, and part of me wondered how much of that was because she hadn¡¯t really had a chance to show Whamline what she thought of him before he¡­ before he died. Pencil wasn¡¯t the one who had betrayed their team, but he did represent it. Whamline had betrayed them to join the Scions. Pencil was the leader of those Scions. Obviously, if it wasn¡¯t them, Whamline would¡¯ve betrayed the team for some other person or group. That was just who he was. But in this case, in this situation, I didn¡¯t think Carousel cared about that sort of thing. She wanted to show someone how pissed off she was. So it might as well be that particular psycho.


    ¡°I can get us right up to the wall.¡± That was That-A-Way, her own voice tight. ¡°But they¡¯ve laced the wall and the windows themselves with something that stops me from teleporting straight in. It¡¯s supposed to stop anyone from teleporting in. I guess Pencil¡¯s method bypassed that. Probably why he had to set up all these hoops for us to jump through to get him in there in the first place.¡± She all-but spat those last words, fists tightening. Carousel wasn¡¯t the only one who wanted to make Pencil regret ever setting up shop in this city.


    One of the intangible Syndicates put in, ¡°That stuff they mix into the walls stops people like me from getting in there too. It¡¯s like running into--uh, well, a wall. Even when I¡¯m like this.¡± He indicated his ghost-like form. ¡°And even the windows are strong enough to stand up against a hell of a lot more firepower than we can hit them with. That place is supposed to be impenetrable even if all-out war happens. Hopefully when they were putting that together, they didn¡¯t plan on something like your paint.¡±


    ¡°And,¡± Wobble pointed out, ¡°the people who would normally be in charge of the actual manual defenses won¡¯t be trying to keep us out.¡± His voice turned a bit flat. ¡°Or if they are, it means we¡¯re already too late and Pencil¡¯s crew has total control of the building.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I quickly agreed before any of us could dwell too much on that possibility, head bobbing. ¡°I can get us inside. Or at least try. You know, if whatever sort of material they use that stops you guys from teleporting or ghosting your way in doesn¡¯t also stop my paint. But even assuming I can make a hole, we don¡¯t know what sort of defenses he¡¯s already got up to stop people from interfering. There could be anyone watching from those windows, with any sort of weapons.¡±


    Poise spoke up firmly. ¡°We¡¯ll cover you. You focus on getting through the wall and into that building.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± another of the Syndicates confirmed. ¡°Just think of us as your own human shields.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Fragile piped up. ¡°They can shoot me all they want. I¡¯ll be their target practice.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d really rather not,¡± I shot back. ¡°Keep your eyes open and don¡¯t get shot. Or, in your case, don¡¯t let whoever happens to be standing behind either of you get shot.¡± After looking back and forth between the intangible Syndicate and the glass-bodied Fragile, I nodded to Way. ¡°Ready when you are.¡±


    We all gathered around her, close enough for all of us to be touching. Before teleporting over there, Peyton formed every marble she had aside from the gold and silver ones, which were maintaining her currently sentai-like armor, into a long, thin board for our team to stand on while we were gathered around Amber. Meanwhile, Fragile made a platform of glass for her own team.


    A second later, the world shifted around us as Way sent our group across the street and right up to the wall several floors up. The marble and glass platforms held. But I was also acutely aware of just how exposed we were. At that very moment, there could be very bad people with guns watching us from any of these windows. Most of them were blacked out, making it impossible to see anything inside. There could be a dozen machine guns rotating to point at us from all sides.


    Forcing that paranoid, unhelpful thought out of my head, I focused on my part of this. I had to trust the others on both sides of me to keep an eye out for anything wrong. Calvin and Hobbes had their Wren-guns up and ready, while Trevithick herself was hovering nearby with her wings and a special rifle of her own, which looked way too big for her. Poise and Style were looking around rapidly, obviously taking in everything. From his perch on top of my helmet, Qwerty kept turning in circles, his bird-vision and squirrel paranoia working overtime to watch for any threat. And on my other side, the Minority people were doing their part in playing lookouts as well. Including Fragile, who had even more glass shards of various shapes and sizes hovering around us, ready to go flying off into any threat that presented itself.


    I had plenty of eyes looking out for me. All I had to do was let them do their part, while I got us into the building. To that end, I raised both hands and sprayed pink paint on the wall and glass. Part of me really expected the paint to simply disintegrate or something as soon as it touched the material. And why not? They had planned against other methods of intrusion, going so far as to have some sort of material that could literally stop people like Amber from teleporting in, or Syndicate from going through while intangible. It really wouldn¡¯t have been all that surprising to find out that they had also come up with a way to stop my pink paint from sticking properly.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    But, to my relief, they apparently hadn¡¯t gotten around to that yet. The paint stayed, forming a wide circle right in front of us. Before reality could change its mind and decide it really hadn¡¯t meant to give me that much of a victory, I blurted, ¡°Now, hit it!¡±


    Murphy and Roald reacted immediately. Pointing their guns that way, they sent those physical energy beams slamming into the pink circle I¡¯d made. The beams spread out around the painted material, before the pair retracted them. The circular bit of material, about four feet in diameter, was ripped right out of the wall, revealing a hallway beyond.


    ¡°Go, go!¡± Syndicate snapped, even as he jumped through the opening. He was followed immediately by Way, Carousel, Wobble, Raindrop, and his other three bodies, which had floated over to join us. Style was right behind them, followed by Poise. Then the rest of the team. I gave one last look around, spotting nothing untowards, then jumped through the opening last.


    I knew the hallway we were in. Quite well, in fact. About twenty feet to the left was the door that led into the wing where the VIPs were kept, including the observation room for my parents. And quite frankly, in that moment it was all I could do not to ignore absolutely everything else to just go sprinting right in there to make sure they were safe. We couldn¡¯t see or hear anything in that immediate moment. Which, to be honest, kind of scared me even more. It was eerily quiet. The fact that we hadn¡¯t run into any problems getting in here and even now couldn¡¯t hear fighting or anything? It sent chills down my spine.


    ¡°We¡¯ll check this way,¡± the solid Syndicate announced, already starting to move the way my parents¡¯ room was. ¡°You guys look that way. Don¡¯t go too far. We need to figure out what¡¯s going on in here.¡±


    Of course he was claiming that direction for his team. As far as they knew, it was just Izzy¡¯s parents in there. So he was trying to give her a chance to check on them. They had no way of knowing that it was also my parents. And I couldn¡¯t expose that fact. Especially not right now. It wasn¡¯t the time.


    So, I ignored the part of me that wanted to shove him and everyone else out of the way. Izzy and I shared a very brief, yet meaningful glance. I couldn¡¯t see her eyes, but I didn¡¯t need to. She was silently promising to check on our parents and keep them safe. That was just going to have to be good enough for now.


    Turning the other way was one of the hardest things I¡¯d ever done in my life, but I did it. ¡°Come on,¡± I started, willing my voice not to crack too much, ¡°let¡¯s see what¡¯s going on this way. Pencil and his people have to be somewhere in here. Maybe they haven¡¯t broken through all the defenses yet.¡± That was a possibility, right? Even with most of the emergency personnel spread through the city to deal with that whole ¡®teleport everyone in that apartment building to random places¡¯ thing, the Conservators headquarters wouldn¡¯t have been left undefended. Maybe the guards had managed to hold off the invading Scions on one of the lower floors.


    And hey, while I was at it, maybe I could hope that they¡¯d already managed to subdue the son of a bitch, or made him give up and run away. Miracles could happen, right?


    Forcing that dour thought out of my head with some effort, something I was getting better and better at doing (at least in the short term), I jogged down the hall away from where my parents were. Izzy would check on them, and if there was anything wrong, she¡¯d let me know. I trusted that, I trusted her in all things, but especially this. If I had to leave anyone to make sure they were still safe, I was glad it was her.


    Meanwhile, our team jogged the other way down the hall and almost immediately found three masked men with guns. Fortunately, they were already unconscious--no, wait, they were dead. All of them had a single entry wound right in the center of their foreheads, as they lay scattered across the floor.


    Paige immediately put a hand over Wren¡¯s eyes, turning her away from the sight despite the girl¡¯s protests that she had seen dead people before. That was something I both did and didn¡¯t want to know more about considering I was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t just talking about those zombie guys, but this wasn¡¯t the time. So, like everything else, I set it aside and focused on looking at the fallen figures as we moved quickly past them. From the look of things, they had been coming this way, headed for that VIP wing, when someone got the drop on them. But where was that someone? Were they back there for the Minority to run into? If so, they¡¯d know that those guys were on their side, right?


    Right, that was just what I needed at this point, another thing to be paranoid about.


    We found three more bodies further down the hall, near the elevator. It looked like they had seen the other three go down and tried to run away, before whoever had hit the first group shot them as well. This time the entry wounds were in the back of their heads. Still a single hole. And still no sign of the person or people responsible for it. If they were guards for the facility, they were remarkably good shots. Which sure, made sense, but the fact that there was only a single hole in each of these dead people along with no sign of any other damage in any of the walls or anything? That seemed odd. This wasn¡¯t the work of a security team or anyone like that. They would¡¯ve fired and kept firing. There would be signs of their misses, holes and other things like that. And they definitely wouldn¡¯t be able to fire a single shot to kill each of these guys dead center in the head. This was more like an assassin. Hell, part of me immediately thought it could be Bobby from what I now remembered about how he fought. But no, he was still recuperating. I¡¯d called in earlier and been told by the doctor that it would be a few more days before they released him.


    On the other hand, the Ministry having other people with that sort of skill made sense. And they would definitely send someone like that in to protect my parents. Maybe we¡¯d get really lucky here and find out this maybe-Ministry person had already dealt with this entire problem. God, wouldn¡¯t that be nice?


    As we all heard Izzy and the other Minority people report through our phone link that everything in the VIP wing seemed secure and that there were several doctors and a couple security guards still in there who said the Scions had never made it into that area, I noticed something. I''d been wrong when I thought that all three bodies here had a single hole in the back of their head. One of them didn''t have any visible holes at all. Pausing, I crouched by the elevator and touched one of his arms. ¡°Hang on,¡± I started, ¡°this one--¡±


    That was as far as I got before the ¡®body¡¯ rolled over. I immediately recognized the face in front of me. It was Nick Sanvers, Pencil. He had been lying there with the other two actual corpses, playing possum. When he saw me, he grinned and held up a small pen-like device before snapping a short, ¡°Surprise.¡± Then there was a flash of light and the floor dropped out from under me, turning completely intangible. Suddenly, I was falling. Several floors went rushing past my vision over the next couple seconds, and I barely managed to put orange paint on myself before slamming into solid ground on my feet. The shock of it was enough to make me stagger backward and stumble against a table that hadn''t been there before, then put my hand out to steady myself against the wall. But the wall wasn¡¯t there and I almost fell over.


    By then, my vision had cleared and I looked around to find myself some sort of basement room. There were filing cabinets all along the walls, along with a few sturdy wooden tables and scattered chairs and stools. The room itself was thirty feet long by twenty feet wide. And right now, its only occupants were Pencil and me. And I had absolutely no idea where we actually were, or how far we were from where we had just been. Above me, the ceiling had gone back to being fully solid now that we had fallen several floors away from everyone else.


    ¡°Guys? Guys!¡± I tried contacting the others through our phone link.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry, your communications are cut off,¡± Pencil informed me, cracking his neck while hopping briskly off the floor. ¡°And my other friends should be entertaining yours right about now. Both sets of them, in fact.¡± He produced a pistol in one hand with a snap of his wrist, and a long, wicked-looking knife in the other. ¡°You know, you weren¡¯t my number one target today. Not even close. But you are kind of a symbol of when shit started going wrong. So I¡¯ll make do.


    ¡°And when I toss your unmasked carcass out on that front parking lot, maybe the people out there will take me seriously when I tell them I want a cure for my sister.¡±

 Acceptance 29-12

    Pencil didn''t exactly waste a second after declaring what he was going to do. But he didn''t just shoot at me either. No, that would''ve been too simple. It was what he figured I was expecting. Instead, he pressed something on his glove and a separate, independent gun turret that had been set up out of sight behind me took its shot. It was the same sort of concussive force gun that had put me on the ground when he had confronted me at that cabin, the sort that blew right through my normal amount of protective paint.


    Fortunately, I wasn''t taken by surprise. I knew the gun was there thanks to my strange and only partially understood environment sense. It considered the turret part of the environment, so I knew what he was about to try. And I was ready. Even as his finger moved to that spot on his glove, I was already using a mix of blue and green on my shoes to instantly hurl myself up to the ceiling. But I inverted in the air so that the same blue and green spots would knock me right back off of it while shooting red at a spot past Pencil to yank myself that way through with the same momentum. The cannon behind me opened up, sending its blast through the space I had been an instant earlier. A second later, my feet collided with Pencil. At the same time, I hit the man with a spray of yellow paint to slow him down.


    It didn''t accomplish anything, not on the surface. Not my feet and not the paint. The former simply bounced off him, while the latter completely fizzled with no apparent effect. He wasn''t hurt or slowed down in the least, though my impact did push him back a step or two before I dropped and rolled to avoid the three bullets he immediately sent at my moving form. I had already painted an orange and blue stop sign on my back, which I activated while acting as though I was having trouble getting back to my feet. He took advantage, firing three more quick shots right into my chest while I was still pretending to push myself up.


    Once again, even though the damage was reflected back on him, it accomplished nothing visible. He glared at me, his eyes sharp with hatred and promised violence. ¡°Oh please, as if I wouldn¡¯t have prepped for your fucking paint. Trust me, kid, I''ve got more immunities than you have lucky breaks. See, I''ve been paying attention.¡± he pointed his gun and fired two more quick shots, that time fast enough that I didn''t even have to pretend to be having trouble getting up. ¡°And it seems to me that you don''t have an unlimited amount of that paint. No--¡± he fired again, but that time I threw myself backwards to avoid it, considering my paint had worn off by then. I reapplied it while he continued. ¡°You definitely have a hell of a lot less paint than I do immunity charges. Sooner or later, you''re gonna run out. And once you do, this whole thing is going to be over, and you''ll find out exactly what a pathetic piece of shit like you deserves. But hey, maybe I¡¯ll run out of bullets.¡± He made an exaggerated gasping noise while pointedly firing half a dozen more times in rapid succession, not even trying to hit me. ¡°Oh wait, that¡¯s right, my guns are special enough to automatically pull new ammo from a basically unlimited supply. Oh well, I guess you¡¯re just plain fucked.¡±


    ¡°You should really watch your mouth,¡± I shot back, taking a second to collect myself and let my paint recharge while he wasn¡¯t shooting. ¡°Is this really the sort of example you wanna be setting for your sister if she ever wakes up?¡± It was a cheap shot, but I wanted him angry and not thinking.


    Well, I got him angry. The man snarled almost like an animal, before spitting out the words, ¡°You¡¯re gonna die on camera, kid, you know that?¡± His hand gestured around as though showing me said camera even though I still couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°I love putting my best hits online for the most loyal fans and vocal critics. And you? They¡¯ll love seeing me shut you up once and for all.¡±


    Even as he said that, the angry, murderous little man hurled his knife past me. I managed to jerk my head back just in time to avoid the blade, but a dark green gas exploded outward from the handle as it embedded itself in the nearby wall. The gas was thick and immediately filled the air around my head. At the same time, words appeared on my visor indicating that the air was toxic and that it was activating filters. So apparently Wren had included another upgrade in this helmet that she hadn''t mentioned. I felt the thing tighten on me just a little around the neck and chin, as it sealed any openings so the gas couldn''t get inside. At the same time, the heat vision kicked in, so I could see an outline of Pencil approaching through the gas with his gun raised. Before he could shoot me, I dove sideways and let the bullets hit the wall where my head had been.


    If I made it through this, I was going to have to hug that kid so hard she might just pop.


    As for my actual opponent himself, he snapped his now-free hand out and made a second pistol jump into it. I had no idea where he was pulling these weapons from, but they seemed to either jump out of his sleeve or literally teleport into his hands. Either way, he was already taking aim to shoot at me with both guns that time. And if he was telling the truth about that unlimited supply of bullets, I was about to have a lot of them coming at me.


    Without conscious thought, I activated another bit of blue and orange to reflect the damage from the rapidly incoming bullets, but even then it was obvious that I was taking the worst part of the exchange. The damage I reflected back at him did nothing thanks to his immunity, and while the orange paint reduced the damage I took, it still felt like getting rocks chucked at me. I almost recoiled directly into the path of another hidden turret that had just popped out into view, but realized my mistake at the last second and used blue-green paint on my shoes to shoot myself straight up toward the ceiling just as the blast tore through the spot Pencil had been maneuvering me toward.


    I flipped over in the air to land against the ceiling, my boots keeping me there. It was tempting to try to use pink paint there and escape up into the next floor, but I wasn''t confident that I would be able to do that before Pencil managed to hit me with enough damage even with my resistance to put me down. After all, he had two of those big guns that I knew could punch through my defenses. Who knew what other tricks he had up his sleeve? It was even more obvious that my theory that he had planned all this from the start was right. He was too well set up for this. He hadn''t been taken by surprise. He was here on a mission, and he had things set up already to help with that. This room was a death trap.


    One thing was for sure, the man wasn''t wrong about me most likely running out of paint before he ran out of immunities. I wasn''t exactly certain how many he had or how that worked, but I had seen a lot of people try to shoot him repeatedly before, so he obviously had more than a few charges. That was what he had called them, immunity charges. That raised questions, but I wasn''t going to ask them.


    Wait, why not?


    ¡°So, immunity charges, huh?¡± I asked while diving sideways along the ceiling in my upside down position to avoid his next couple of shots, which should have sent bullets up into the next floor, or at least into the space between floors. Instead, they seemed to hit some sort of energy shield, which flickered to life under the impact and made them rebound off it. A force field? Great, good thing I hadn''t decided to go with the plan to use pink paint to escape. The shield seemed to be right under the ceiling material. My guess was that Pencil had planned on letting whoever he brought in here think they could find a way to escape by breaking through the walls or ceiling, only to find themselves hitting that shield while he hit them from behind. Yeah, I was really glad I had dismissed that possibility already.


    Still rolling while processing that, I continued my remark. ¡°Is that straight up blanket immunities to everything, or separate charges for each type of damage? You know, fire, ice, lightning, do you have a different set of immunity charges just for that annoying itch you get in the middle of your back that''s so hard to reach?¡± While blurting those questions, I sent two shots of red paint, one at another filing cabinet and another at a spot right between Pencil¡¯s feet, so the heavy metal box full of folders was sent flying that way. It didn''t hurt him, simply bouncing off the man, but it did distract his aim a bit, giving me a chance to keep talking. Which, in turn, gave me a chance to keep thinking. I had to do that part quickly, but what else was new at this point?


    He was right, this wasn''t going to work. He could overwhelm me before I overwhelmed him if I just kept it up like this. And I couldn''t depend on anyone else making it down here to help. Not if they were really being attacked by the other Scions that he had brought in here with him. No, I had to do this myself, and I had to find a way to change my tactics, come up with something that would run through his immunities faster than he could run through my paint.


    In short, I had to change things up. Fortunately, I had a pretty good idea of how to do that. I just had to actually pull it off. Even if the thought of what I was going to try made me certain that I really was as suicidally reckless as people kept saying I was. But I couldn''t hesitate. I couldn''t stop to think any more. Pencil was already recovering and taking aim with those guns. So, I stopped thinking, I stopped planning, I stopped worrying.


    I just did.


    A spot of blue on my shoes launched me off the ceiling, and I was already extending my hands in either direction. My right hand hit two quick spots with red paint, one next to Pencil and the other on one of those tables. The table was sent sliding that way, bouncing off the man without causing any damage whatsoever before starting to rebound backwards. At the same time, my other hand sent a shot of red against the far wall so I could yank myself that way just as he fired two more quick shots at me. He had already been anticipating my motion, so the second one actually bounced off my shoulder. But I had an orange armadillo image on my back, so it just stung a bit while the red paint yanked me onward. He kept shooting, of course, but the table had bumped into him by then. Even though it did nothing to actually hurt him, it still threw off his aim for just a second, sending the next couple bullets past the side of my head to give me time to get to that wall. Just before I did, I inverted myself in the air to hit feet-first. The instant my feet touched solid material, I activated another couple blue spots I¡¯d stuck on my shoes, these ones mixed with green.


    Instantly, I was sent rocketing across the room, not quite straight at Pencil, but about ten feet away. As I went sailing past while he was still twisting around to shoot at the spot where I had been a second earlier, my hand reached toward him. My arm was painted purple and pink, making it snap outward several feet longer than it normally was so I could grab my target just before canceling the paint. That snapped my arm back to normal, while I flipped over in the air to land on the opposite side of the room than where I¡¯d bounced off the wall. My momentum sent me sliding several more feet. In my hand, I held one of those pistols he had been using.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    With a low chuckle, Pencil stared at me. ¡°Bravo, but if your goal was to disarm me¡­¡± He made that hand gesture again and another new gun appeared in his grasp. ¡°You''re about to be--¡± He stopped, as a bullet rebounded off his face. A bullet from the gun I was holding now. It kicked in my hand somewhat, but not nearly as much as a normal gun that wasn¡¯t Tech-Touched would have.


    ¡°Huh, what do you know?¡± I found myself announcing as the realization clearly hit the man. ¡°I can use them too.¡±


    He reacted quickly, that was for sure. Not even a full second after he realized the mistake, Pencil was already shooting at me. At the same time, the two hidden turrets twisted to shoot as well. But I wasn¡¯t there anymore. I was already hurling myself sideways, activating a green pair of wings along either arm for speed just before slamming my blue-painted shoe down on the floor to bounce clear over the table in front of me. On the way, my left hand pointed that gun, and I pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession while allowing my instinct--or rather, my power to guide me.


    It worked. Just like with the paintball gun we¡¯d used while Amber, Paige and I had been testing my special aiming power, I hit the target without any effort at all. All three bullets hit Pencil dead-center in the middle of his forehead. Of course, none of them did anything with his immunities. But that was okay, I had plenty more where that came from. He¡¯d said it himself. His guns were special. They pulled from a practically unlimited ammo supply.


    Suddenly, I didn¡¯t have to use up my paint supply reflecting damage from his shots back at the man. I could do it myself. And even though I didn¡¯t exactly feel comfortable holding a gun, in this case I was willing to make an exception.


    While in mid-air, I made the wheels pop out of my shoes, landing smoothly on them just before using a quick shot of red against the far wall to yank myself forward while Pencil filled the spot where I had just been with his own bullets. In that same time, five more of my shots hit the same part of his face as the last four had. Now he was angry. Now he wasn¡¯t playing around.


    Neither of us were.


    Sensing one of those turrets twisting to track me, I ducked while still being hauled forward by the pull from the red paint. The shot passed right over my head, several of the filing cabinets exploding into a shower of metal under the impact of the blast before I snapped myself back up and kicked off the ground and toward the ceiling with a blue-green assist. On the way up, I flipped myself upside down, extending my hand to shoot no less than seven more times, as quickly as I could pull the trigger. Four of those shots hit, while the other three passed through the air where Pencil had been as the man dove out of the way.


    ¡°Hey!¡± My shout filled the room even as my wheels hit the ceiling and sent me gliding along it upside down. ¡°I made the great invincible Pencil dodge! Is it possible you used too many immunity charges fighting your way through the security in here?!¡± Already, my hand had snapped to follow his movements, pulling the trigger another half dozen times through the course of those two sentences. Between his speed and my aim-power¡¯s trouble with living targets, I couldn¡¯t hit his head with every shot. But I still hit him with all of them, even if it was mostly center of mass. Not that he reacted any more than if I had been hitting him with small balls of paper. But he and I both knew his secret now. He wasn¡¯t permanently immune to everything I was hitting him with. He only had so many invincibility charges. I had no idea how many, but I was damn sure going to find out.


    ¡°I mean, they are really good security. They¡¯d have to be, to get left here to watch over these guys. How many times did they all manage to shoot you? Enough to put all those neat little holes in your shirt!¡±


    Pencil rolled behind a desk on the far side of the room to get out of my line of sight, but I aimed at the nearby wall. With barely a thought, I sent three quick shots that way. My power might¡¯ve had a little trouble tracking a moving living target, but against a wall it could do basically anything. The bullets rebounded off the shield there and went straight at the spot where I¡¯d seen the man vanish from view. They must¡¯ve hit him, because he bellowed a curse and rose to shoot back at me. Not only with his own pistols, but from both turrets as well. Fortunately, I wasn¡¯t on the ceiling anymore. I had dropped back to the floor at the same instant that my bullets were rebounding off the wall to hit him. Even the twin blasts from those turrets weren¡¯t enough to tear through the forcefield, though they did make pieces of ceiling debris rain down on both of us.


    While the man tried to adjust his aim to my new position, I was already gone. A blue launching pad sent me up and forward, skating along the wall to his left as quickly as I could manage while simultaneously extending my hand to shoot four, five, six more times. All six hit the man in the chest area, even as he pivoted to try to track my movements. But before he could fire his own shot, I pulled the trigger one more time. That shot didn¡¯t hit the man himself. Instead, it collided with the gun in his left hand. While he was immune to damage, the things he was holding weren¡¯t. The impact from that shot ripped the pistol from his hand and sent it skidding along the floor.


    He was already turning to take the other gun out of my sight even as I fired again. But I anticipated that, so my next shot went past the man to hit the wall there before the bullet rebounded off the forcefield to collide with that weapon, ripping it from his grasp as well.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be teleporting away by now?¡± I taunted, while the turrets took aim once more. There had to be some sort of delay for them to charge up or something, because there were several seconds between their shots. But now they were ready again, and tracking me. Immediately, I hurled myself sideways off the wall, hitting the floor with a red-blue puddle to make it incredibly slippery. Landing on my back like that, my momentum combined with the red-blue paint sent me sliding along the floor while I hit Pencil¡¯s chest with another half a dozen more shots without even looking at him. I wasn¡¯t aiming, just sort of pointing the gun that way while pulling the trigger as quickly as I could. Nonetheless, I knew every shot was hitting the man.


    Meanwhile, my free hand pointed to the left, then right as I sent out two quick shots of red paint, one toward either turret. Just as they locked in on me, I activated that paint. The turrets were yanked out of position and sent flying toward one another just as they fired, completely destroying themselves in a messy explosion of shattered metal.


    By then, Pencil was already making that gesture to summon a new gun. Just as he did so, with the explosion of the turrets destroying one another filling my ears, I sent a shot of red at the desk next to him to yank myself off the floor and up that way. In the exact instant when the new gun materialized in his waiting grasp, my foot was already lashing out to collide with the barrel, sending the gun off onto the far side of the room.


    ¡°Sorry, sir, we have a strict limit on the amount of guns you¡¯re allowed to play with at one time,¡± I blurted, while landing almost directly in front of the man. ¡°But hey, if you want this one back, you¡¯ll just have to say the magic word!¡±


    Pencil did not say any magic words. Or any words at all. Instead, he snarled and lashed out at me with a kick, but I had already activated a large green clock on my right leg. Suddenly faster than he was expecting, I twisted aside and let his foot snap past me before shooting him another two times at point-blank range. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t tell me you can¡¯t teleport away!¡± A put-on scandalous gasp escaped me. ¡°Ohhh right, no teleporting for you until those side effects wear off. That¡¯s why you had to drag me down here with that whole intangible floor thing instead of teleporting directly. Damn, sucks for you, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    My borrowed gun fired six more shots directly into his face through that. Some part of me was saying that aiming a gun at someone¡¯s head and pulling the trigger was wrong, especially when I didn¡¯t know exactly how many invulnerability charges he had left. But I was too focused on stopping him. Besides, he wasn¡¯t nearly panicked enough to have run out just yet.


    That small voice in the back of my mind pointing out that he might not know how many charges he had went mostly ignored.


    I had been running out of paint, but I covered that by simply standing in front of Pencil to shoot him. His flailing hand slammed into the side of my helmet with enough force to knock me sideways, even as I continued pulling the trigger as fast as I could. Bullet after bullet slammed into that son of a bitch, all of them seemingly doing nothing.


    I could see why people had previously given up on trying to shoot him. He certainly seemed to be completely immune to bullets. But I knew the truth now. We all did. I just had to hit him enough times to wear out his power.


    Shot, after shot, after shot went into the man, all to no avail. He grabbed my arm and I used just a bit of pink paint to make his hand go through my bicep while hitting him three more times. His gloved hand rose and opened, revealing a nozzle to spray something in my face. But once again, the cloud of whatever it was (grayish this time) couldn¡¯t get through Wren¡¯s filters.


    The filters, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t protect me from the concussive blast that came from his other glove. That one slammed into me almost as hard as one of those turrets would have. Fortunately, I¡¯d activated an emergency orange shield I¡¯d left on my actual stomach under my costume at the last second. But the blast still sent me flying. The gun was torn from my grasp and sent flying off out of sight even as I managed one last shot.


    Hitting the wall, I bounced off it and then fell to my hands and knees with a grunt. A second later, Pencil was right there, slamming his foot into my side to knock me backward. ¡°Got anything else smart to say, huh?!¡± He demanded, rearing back to kick me again. It didn¡¯t really hurt, not with my paint. But the force still sent me back against the wall once more. ¡°Anything at all?!¡± That demand came as he summoned yet another pistol to his hand and took aim. Two quick shots came, both of them hitting hard enough to leave bruises even through the paint protection.


    I muttered something while lifting my head, making the man stop and frown. ¡°What?¡±


    Raising one hand, I pointed a finger that way. Not at the man¡¯s gun, but at the side of his head, where a thin red mark was visible. A thin red mark that was leaking blood, from that last shot that I¡¯d managed while the concussive blast from his glove was sending me flying. The shot that had cut through the last of his immunity charges.


    ¡°Do¡­ you need¡­ a band-aid?¡± I repeated my previous question, even as Pencil raised his free hand to touch the blood with a look of bewilderment. He hadn¡¯t even noticed the injury in his rage.


    While he was still reacting, I hit his new gun with a shot of red, yanking it away from him and tossing the gun aside. In the same motion, I used blue paint under my body to launch myself upward, fist extending to slam into the side of his face as hard as I could.


    He felt it. The motherfucker fucking felt it. His head recoiled, a grunt escaping him. Staggering sideways while bleeding from the lip, he made a noise of mixed surprise and pain.


    ¡°Well, look at it this way,¡± I snarled the words while the full realization of his vulnerability hit the man. ¡°You did say something about a pathetic piece of shit in this room getting what they deserve.¡±


    And with that opening to the real fight, I launched myself at the man.

 Acceptance 29-13

    Pencil hadn''t gotten as far as he had by relying solely on his power or that teleportation tech to get him out of trouble. He was remarkably quick, able to sidestep out of the way as I threw myself at him. His foot came up and collided with my stomach, knocking me sideways into the nearby table. I crashed into it and rolled aside just as he screamed out a curse while driving a knife down through the surface. The knife had to have been Touched-Tech, because it cut right through the thick wood like it was butter, leaving the thing to fall apart in two halves. Even with orange protection, I probably didn''t want to get hit by that thing. That would end this fight pretty quickly, and badly.


    Painting my fist and arm purple while rolling off the table and back to my feet, I lashed out to punch the man in his own stomach. He didn''t react at all. He was immune again, somehow. Did his invulnerability recharge that quickly?


    While those thoughts flashed through my mind, I used blue paint to boost myself off the floor and away from him. On my way up, my foot lashed out to kick him in the torso, trying to double the man over. Yet again, there was no reaction. Fuck! It couldn¡¯t be that bad, could it? If I had to work my way through all those invulnerability charges all over again after he was finally able to be hurt, I was going to scream.


    Still, I had to keep trying. To that end, while flipping myself over on the ceiling, I hit those two table halves with red paint along with another spot behind Pencil while he was still looking up to find me. The twin table pieces went flying at him, one after the other. The first bounced off harmlessly. But the second slammed into the man and knocked him staggering.


    That, the image of him stumbling when that second table piece crashed into him, was probably the most beautiful thing I had seen in a very long time. It meant his invulnerability hadn''t completely recharged after all. He was getting charges back, but not all of them immediately. Did that mean I just had to keep hitting him before he could regenerate those charges? I wasn''t sure, but it was the best plan I had. And to be honest, ¡®hit Pencil a lot¡¯ felt like a solid plan in general.


    Even as he was staggering, the bastard sent several blind shots toward me. One bounced off my shoulder as I activated the orange-blue penguin symbol on my lower back and dove toward him. He didn¡¯t react at all to the damage reflection from the shot. Nor did he react to both of my feet colliding with his shoulders. I simply bounced off and fell toward the floor, where I had to roll out of the way as he fired two more wild shots at the spot where I had been. A purple snake appeared on my leg before I drove that foot into his leg. Again, nothing happened, and I had to roll back to my feet. I caught a glimpse of his arm coming down with the knife, and quickly activated a green tornado on my chest so I could step into the blow. My hand caught his extended wrist before he could drive the blade into my back, and I slammed my helmet into his face.


    Oh, that worked. A bellow of pain escaped the man as he recoiled from the blow, and the knife fell out of his hand. I¡¯d hurt him. I actually hurt him. Quickly taking advantage, or trying to, I drove my foot into the side of his knee as hard as I could.


    Nothing. He gave no reaction at all. Worse, the delay gave him time to recover. With blood from a probably-broken nose covering his face, he snarled and brought his fist around toward my head. No, not just his fist. A weapon appeared in his hand, some sort of club or something, like a baton. He was so quick, I didn¡¯t have time to renew the orange paint before the club collided with the side of my helmet.


    Wren did good work. The helmet was supposed to stand up against bullets without orange paint. Which was good, since whatever sort of Touched-Tech that baton was, it clearly would have taken my head off without her efforts. Even with them, I was still knocked to the floor by the blow, my ears ringing. The baton definitely had a concussive boost to it or something. It had hit me like a freaking freight train.


    From my sprawled position on the floor, I caught the barest glimpse out of the corner of my eye (it was more like several glimpses given I was seeing double or triple in that moment) of Pencil raising the club up before bringing it down toward my head once more. At the last second, I managed to get a hand up to shoot two quick splotches of red. Even as dazed as I was, my aim was still perfect. The first hit the club, while the other hit the ceiling above both of us. An instant before his weapon would have slammed into my visor, it was ripped from his grasp and sent flying upward.


    While he was still reacting to his hand whiffing through the air, sans baton, I heaved myself back a bit and brought both feet up before kicking out. One hit the man¡¯s stomach while the other hit his face. I felt the air rush out of him from the first, but he gave no reaction whatsoever to the second. It did, however, give me an opening to roll out from under him and pick myself up.


    Okay, okay, what? The foot to his stomach just now had hurt him. The second of the two table halves to his side had hurt him, even after both a punch and a kick hadn¡¯t done anything. And just now, even though I¡¯d seen a bullet graze his head and leave that bloody mark and managed to hurt him with a headbutt, a kick to the face had done nothing.


    Wait, hang on. I knew this. I knew what was going on. My kick to his face had come after he hit me in the helmet with that baton. After he¡¯d done damage to my head. And he¡¯d become immune to that earlier punch and kick to the stomach after he kicked me around the same area. After that, he was still immune to the first half of the table, but the second half hurt him.


    Charges. He didn¡¯t regenerate charges over time, he regenerated them by doing the same thing to others. Or close to the same thing. He hit one general area of the body and gained a bit of immunity for that same place. That was it, right? It had to be. It was the only thing that made the last few moments make any sense at all, and it fit with everything else we knew. I could fight him, I could actually hurt him. But every time he hit me, he would get several invulnerability charges for that part of his body.


    Right, this was going to be complicated. And not easy. But I could do it. I could hurt him. I could beat him. And, as the two of us stared at one another, I made a point of painting a green smiley face across my helmet.


    ¡°What¡­. are you¡­ grinning about?¡± The evil piece of shit snapped that demand while summoning two more of those concussive batons from the¡­ whatever hammer space he was pulling all these weapons from, one for each hand.


    ¡°Me?¡± I cracked my neck, reapplying several more paint images in rapid succession all across my costume. ¡°Not much, I guess I just realized something.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna kick your ass.¡±


    A snarl of anger and disbelief escaped the man. ¡°You think so, self-righteous little shit? Why don¡¯t you come try it?¡±


    Taking a running start while still on my skates, I watched Pencil¡¯s batons while each step brought me closer. With four steps left before I¡¯d be in range of him, my right hand rose and pointed to one side. With three steps left, I sent a shot of red paint at the edge of a still-intact table. With two steps left, I activated the paint there and on my glove. With one step left, the table was yanked over toward me. And in the very instant that I came within range, I canceled the paint. The table slid to a stop directly in front of the man, while I dropped into a slide to go under it. The momentum from my wheels carried me onward, even as his descending baton collided with the table. The blow was still enough to blow that apart, sending splinters in every direction. But I was safe, sliding between the man¡¯s legs while he recoiled reflexively from the table shattering right in his face.


    Meanwhile, I came back to my feet and pivoted, spinning on my wheels. The baton he¡¯d hit the table with was out of sight, but he was holding the other one out to one side. Before he could react, one shot of red hit the weapon, while another ripped it from his unsuspecting hand and sent it flying off out of the way to bounce off the distant wall.


    He was still unbelievably quick, of course, spinning around so fast it was like his entire body had simply inverted direction instantly. One second I was looking at his back, and the next he was facing me, jabbing his remaining baton at my chest. But I was ready for that, having already activated a large green tornado symbol I¡¯d put across my chest, giving me enough immediate speed to pivot inside his jab. At the same time, my right fist snapped up to collide with his chin, followed by an even faster punch from my left fist to the opposite side of his face. Only then, after hitting him twice (in addition to the kick I¡¯d hit his face with a few moments earlier) and accomplishing nothing, did I activate the purple snake image I¡¯d created on my arm, before once again lashing out with my right fist. Please let me be right, please let me be right. Please God let me be right.


    I was right. And oh boy did he feel that one. The first two punches accomplished nothing, as usual. But when the third made contact, his head snapped backward and he staggered with a yelped curse. He stumbled back a step, raising a hand to his face before staring at me incredulously.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Once again, I made a green smiley face appear on my visor. My voice was flat. ¡°Gotcha.¡±


    Things went wild then. With a scream of rage, Pencil lunged at me, swinging that baton. I ducked under it, but his foot was already rising, colliding with my helmet. It wasn¡¯t enough to hurt, but something told me it didn¡¯t have to be in order to count for his power. But I already knew what to do, sending a wide spray of paint that way while rolling with the impact from his kick before he could follow up.


    In this case, what he was trying to follow up with was a bullet or ten, having summoned yet another gun into his free hand so he could fire off several shots in rapid succession right where I¡¯d been when he kicked me. But I was already rolling backwards, and before he could adjust his aim, the man was struck in the side of the head by something. Then another something, and another. That wide spray of paint I¡¯d sent out while in mid-roll was red, hitting about a dozen of the random bits of debris from the table he¡¯d blown apart with his baton. The other spot of red was on the far wall, above and past Pencil. So all those random bits of wood were flying right at his head. About half missed entirely, but several struck home, colliding with the man¡¯s temple and face. And just when he finally yelped as one piece of wood managed to hurt him, I was already back up and swinging. Yes, I was a good ten feet away by that point. But I¡¯d painted my arm purple and pink, so it stretched. My arm extended all the way across that ten foot distance, just enough for my fist to slam into his newly-vulnerable face. That made his head snap sideways, even as he managed to get that gun up enough to fire three rapid shots right at me. The first two went wide, but the third ricocheted off the side of the helmet. Yet another reason to hug Wren as tightly as I could once this was all over. As if I needed more.


    Still, even with the protection from the helmet, the impact of that bullet was enough to snap my head back. My arm snapped back as well, while Pencil closed the distance between us. His eyes looked wild and crazed in the brief glimpse that I had just before his hand closed around my throat. He¡¯d dropped his other baton at some point, instead choosing to start choking me with that hand while shoving his pistol up under my chin. But an instant before he could pull the trigger, I drove my arm into his wrist. The pistol went off right between us, firing into the ceiling before the bullet went rebounding around the room thanks to the forcefield.


    He''d given himself a few more invulnerability charges when his bullet hit my helmet, but he hadn''t managed to hit my torso yet. He was too focused on choking the life out of me, his hand gripping me even more tightly while he fought to push his gun back into position. With both of my hands against his wrist, he couldn¡¯t get the gun where he wanted it, but he did manage to press it against my chest. His next words were spat hatefully. ¡°Remember the camera? Wanna say bye bye to anyone who gives a shit about you? Oh, what¡¯s that? Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue?¡± His hand tightened more and more against my throat, while he inexorably pushed his other hand with the gun hard against my chest, despite my efforts to push against it. ¡°At what point do you think the news that¡¯ll show this footage later is gonna cut away? Think they¡¯ll show this bit right here? Think they¡¯ll show my finger getting closer to the trigger? Think they¡¯ll--what?¡±


    That last bit came as the hand that had been squeezing my throat abruptly snapped shut completely. He wasn¡¯t gripping flesh and bone anymore. He had been squeezing what amounted to Play-Doh. Pink Play-Doh. His hand just tore some of my throat away harmlessly. And as for the gun that he had been pushing into position under my chin, I hadn¡¯t actually been fighting to stop him from moving it closer, I had been very subtly adjusting his aim, listening to what my power was saying about exactly how to direct it. When he reflexively pulled the trigger in surprise, the bullet went all the way through the small pink spot on my chest and back, rebounded off the wall directly behind us, then narrowly missed my ear on its return trip before striking the man right in his still-vulnerable shoulder.


    That was enough to make him howl, recoiling as the gun dropped from his hand. Already, I could feel the bits of pink¡­ me that had been ripped away by his grasp on my throat, or by the bullet through my torso schlooping their way back into position. He was bleeding, he had been shot right in the shoulder, by his own bullet. And he was absolutely not happy about that.


    Well he was about to become even more unhappy. I was already launching myself that way, activating a pair of purple dumbbell images on either shoulder before driving my fist into his stomach. At the same time, my other hand used red paint to summon a broken metal table leg to it. As he doubled over, I drove the jagged end of that bit of debris as hard as I could straight into the exact same spot as that bullet wound that had already been gushing blood. Then I twisted that while his bellow filled the room. I felt the chair leg stick on something inside his shoulder, and yanked downward to keep him in position while my other fist collided with his face once, twice, three times, and on the fourth I felt blood, as I finally broke through his defenses and hurt him again.


    His flailing hand struck my side. No, not his hand. He¡¯d managed to summon a knife and it actually cut me, though not nearly as much as he was trying to. Still, I felt a shock of pain along my own shoulder, just as his other fist collided with my opposite shoulder as hard as he could to make me stumble backward, the table leg clattering to the ground while his wound closed.


    Before he could fully regain his footing, I ignored the pain from my own bleeding shoulder and punched him once in the chest to no avail, then in the shoulder, then the stomach. On the third one, the air went whooshing out of him, the blow making him slump. Which left his face in prime range for me to put my other fist into it, an instant before my purple paint ran out.


    He was hurt, dazed, and angry. And I made it worse with a quick, ¡°You know, I thought you were taking this fight seriously, but if you¡¯re just here to dance the Polka¡­¡±


    Confused, Pencil looked down, following my gaze. Only to find the front of his shirt covered in a couple hundred randomly scattered tiny yellow dots. Polka dots, of course. Throughout these last few moments, I had been carefully applying all of them to him one after another. And now, I activated them. Not all at once, but one after another after another. I¡¯d activate one, disable it instantly, then the next, and the next, while he was still figuring out what happened.


    Finally, all the dots were gone. Those two hundred or so tiny, almost imperceptible splotches of yellow had vanished. But they were replaced by a new one, a much larger spot of yellow that I shot right across his chest. And when I activated it, his rising hand suddenly slowed.


    It worked. I had eaten through whatever he used to give himself immunity to my slow paint (I really had no idea what he¡¯d done for that) by simply using a couple hundred dots of yellow. Too small to have done much, but enough to chew through his defenses.


    ¡°You think they¡¯ll edit this part out,¡± I asked as Nick watched his own arm rise unnaturally slowly, ¡°or just pause it so everyone can get popcorn?¡±


    Rearing back, the man swung wildly at my throat with his knife. But as slow as he was now, I ducked under it, then popped back up and punched his jaw with my left hand. Right before contact, I activated a purple dragon breathing orange fire across my back. The impact of that blow knocked his head sideways, right into my other incoming hand. That one knocked two of his teeth out, his wild, manic expression somehow worse with all the blood. So I decided to help out by adding a little more red, specifically painting his nose with it.


    ¡°Jeez, so rude when all I¡¯m trying to do is help you!¡± I snapped those words while side-stepping his wild, still-slowed kick before hitting him twice more in rapid succession, a left fist colliding with his cheek before the right hit his already-broken and reddened nose. ¡°You want people to think you¡¯re scary, right? Clowns are scary!¡±


    He flailed even more wildly, coming nowhere near me as his fist sailed over a foot wide of my face. Though I did take the opportunity to hit his knife with a shot of red to yank it away from him, sending it flying. ¡°I mean, they¡¯re not, but clown would be a step-up from what you are right now. You¡¯re nothing but an asshole with a gimmicky power. And trust me, if there¡¯s one thing I know--¡± My purple-pink painted hand snapped out several feet like a whip, catching hold of another piece of shattered table before snapping back to slam it into the side of his head, the impact staggering him. ¡°--it¡¯s gimmicky powers.¡±


    Even slowed as he was, the man still managed to shoot me in the face, then the chest. I recovered and evaded the next two shots and hit him in the chin, the cheek, the nose, then the cheek again all in rapid succession. He swung again and I twisted around to evade it, driving my elbow into his stomach twice before pivoting back to punch him in the same spot. With all three of his brief immunity charges gone, I quickly boosted myself with a couple large green winged sneaker images on either side of my helmet before spinning around into a kick that drove my foot into his stomach as well. He tried to grab my foot, but between him being slowed and me being sped up, there was no chance. I was already pivoting back around, using the momentum to slam my right fist into his eye, then my left into his cheek. Then a right again, then a left. All before he had even finished registering the first blow to his face. I hit him again, and again, and again, as many times as I could.


    As many times as it took.


    We stumbled away from each other, Pencil slumped and growling while swaying a bit woozily, like a man who was incredibly drunk. I felt my own exhaustion acutely, panting hard as I managed, ¡°You think terrifying people, torturing them, killing them is gonna get you in the history books? It¡¯s not. You keep this up and you¡¯ll only go one place.¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Pencil growled the word, sounding almost more like an animal than a man as he slumped almost all the way over, ¡°where¡¯s that?¡± Even as he asked that, the lanky figure was already rising back to his full height, hand having grabbed one of his fallen batons. In the next instant, he was launching himself off the floor, swinging the baton at my head.


    Or at least, he tried to. But I had done one small, almost imperceptible thing while I¡¯d been up close. I painted his shoelaces red. And in that moment, as he went to throw himself at me, I activated that paint. His shoelaces immediately snapped into one another, as if they¡¯d been knotted that way. He went to lunge forward, but his shoelaces were tied together. The momentum of his lunge, however, had to go somewhere. In this case, it went toward slamming him face-first into the floor.


    And just like that, with something so simple, the great and terrifying Pencil was out for the count. He lay there, sprawled on the floor, while I tilted my head and stared down at his fallen, beaten body. ¡°You know, I guess I was wrong.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t go anywhere after all.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 23

    Young Flea Helping Young Echo Get New Sounds


    Seeing two small, twelve-year-old girls walking on their own through a construction site in the middle of the night might have caused alarm in the area¡¯s assigned security guard. That was, if said guard hadn¡¯t already left his post in order to get a midnight lunch at an all-night Mexican place a couple blocks away. Sure, he wasn¡¯t supposed to go anywhere, but what could happen? There was nothing valuable on the site, just huge construction equipment that couldn¡¯t possibly go anywhere, a few holes in the ground, and a half-assembled building. And if anyone did show up with big enough trucks to take or do anything, he¡¯d see them drive past, considering he was sitting out on the cement patio enjoying his burrito and rice facing the only road that went up that way. So what difference did it make if he was sitting in the truck up on the site itself, or down here having a nice meal?


    Well, obviously it meant he didn¡¯t see those two girls come in off the field. They knew the guard was down there, they¡¯d watched him head out in the truck, and one of them had done a couple quick jumps to see where he went. Now they were satisfied that he was going to be busy for awhile, so they came into the site itself to look around. Each of them held a rope that was attached to a single large bag they were dragging behind them, which slid noisily through the dirt and gravel in a way that made it clear that it was quite heavy.


    ¡°I dunno about this,¡± Irelyn Banners, the diminutive girl who stood a couple inches shorter than her companion, put in while frowning thoughtfully. Though smaller than the other girl, her somewhat enhanced strength meant she was carrying the bulk of the bag¡¯s weight. The girl wore a baggy black sweatshirt with grayish jeans, her brown hair tucked back into the raised and cinched hood. If anyone saw them, she didn¡¯t want any descriptions getting out. Sure, they weren¡¯t doing anything too bad, but she still knew just how upset her dad would be if he heard she was jeopardizing her future for what he would call ¡®dumb thrills.¡¯


    But it wasn¡¯t about thrills. They weren¡¯t just screwing around and this wasn¡¯t about having fun. They were here on very important business. Superhero business.


    ¡°What¡¯s not to know?¡± The girl beside her, with dark blonde hair that was cut fairly short and an expression that was far more determined than her friend¡¯s uncertain gaze, replied easily while continuing to march straight to the construction equipment ahead of them. ¡°We¡¯re superheroes, right? And we wanna help as many people as possible. Which means having as many options as possible.¡± As she said that, Haley Torres gestured to the equipment and boxes of tools ahead of them. ¡°These are options. Trust me, Ires, we¡¯ll be able to help a lot more people if I can record more sounds. And you can practice your aim with those leaps.¡±


    Following the direction of her best friend¡¯s gaze with that last part, Irelyn squinted at the half-assembled four-story building ahead of them. There were partial floors, girders sticking out here and there, lots of places for her to leap to and from. She wasn¡¯t really supposed to jump in a place like this, outside of the regular training facility with all of its mats and nets. But she could do this. She wasn¡¯t a baby, no matter how the other members of the Minority treated her. She contributed, she helped, she wasn¡¯t holding them back. And if she trained even more than the worrywart adults wanted, she could learn to pull her weight even more. If the two of them worked hard enough, they could actually make the older teens treat both of them like actual real members of the team instead of little kids they had to babysit. And, more important than any of that, maybe she could actually make her dad happy. No matter what she did, he always seemed to think she had made a mistake, or not done enough, or even that she was wasting her time with this whole group. At first he had been completely against the idea of Irelyn using her newfound powers for this sort of thing. Then he had decided it was a good thing after all. But that didn¡¯t make things any easier. Her dad deciding that her being a hero was a good thing just meant he was involved. Which meant he was always pushing her to spend more time practicing in the facility, he¡¯d hired people to build a whole home gym for her to work in (under his supervision or that of his personally-chosen instructor of course), and he was constantly arguing with the people in charge of the new Minority team to give her more focus. To the point that it caused friction with the other members of the team who thought Irelyn herself was pushing for that focus. As if she didn¡¯t already have enough problems just from them treating her like a little kid. Now they treated her like a little kid whose dad kept trying to force her into the spotlight no matter what the situation was.


    In short, having her dad involved in this stuff made Irelyn feel like a young child star with a domineering stage parent who liked to scream at directors for not giving her enough lines.


    With all that running through her head, Irelyn exhaled before giving a little nod. ¡°Okay, but we have to be really careful. You know what¡¯ll happen if we get hurt out here.¡±


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not dumb,¡± Haley insisted. ¡°We¡¯re here to get better at all this so we can make the people who think we¡¯re useless babies shut the fuck up. And help more people, you know, that sort of thing.¡± She shrugged a bit before adding, ¡°Point is, you and me, we¡¯re gonna show everyone who thinks we can¡¯t do this without having our hands held the whole time. Then they¡¯ll have to start taking us seriously.¡±


    Glancing over to the empty one lane road that led up from the main street to make sure there was no sign of any headlights (they would see the security truck approaching long before the guard got anywhere near close enough to notice them), Irelyn agreed, ¡°Right, okay. Let¡¯s do it.¡± Her voice started off slightly uncertain at first, before settling into a firm tone by the end. ¡°That guard¡¯s gonna stay down there for at least another hour. He always does. I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s trying to hit on the lady that makes the burritos.¡± She knew all that because she¡¯d been out to this place multiple times, though mostly just taking walks to get away from everyone and clear her head. It wasn¡¯t that far from her family¡¯s house. Not for someone who could jump like she could.


    More to the point, the construction firm itself and the security company were both owned by her father, which was another reason she really didn¡¯t want to get caught out here. They would definitely tell her dad, and that was just¡­ a whole other thing. But she¡¯d found out (thanks to being stuck in the car with her dad while he ranted on the phone about costs and wasted time) that this wide-open site was close enough to her house to run to, almost entirely abandoned at night, and the half-finished building was perfect for jumping around on. When Haley had brought up the idea of finding a place to work and train that was away from everyone trying to tell them not to do something, this had immediately leapt to mind.


    With a grin, Haley dropped her rope and bounced up and down a couple times. ¡°Great, let¡¯s start off easy. It¡¯s grapple time. That one looks good.¡± Her hand rose to point to the highest part of the four-story building, where a metal beam stuck out from the partially-finished floor. ¡°I mean--¡± She hesitated, glancing to Irelyn. ¡°Unless you think we should start lower. Can you jump that high even with the weights?¡± In the midst of that whole thing, the girl had abruptly realized she might be pushing her friend too hard and backtracked a little.


    Irelyn, however, gave a firm nod. She wanted this just as much as Haley did. Both of them were tired of being treated like little kids. And, in her own case, being stagemothered by her father. Not that Haley really had that problem. Her own parents barely paid attention to her. Well, her mom did anyway. Her dad wasn¡¯t in the picture.


    To show her friend she was just as committed to this plan, Irelyn dropped her own rope and marched to the enormous bag. The thing looked like something that someone would carry a full-sized tent and all associated supplies in. Mostly because it had been exactly that before they commandeered it from one of the equipment rooms in the Banners¡¯ basement. Unzipping the bag, she rooted around inside, past everything else they¡¯d filled it with, before coming out with a long, coiled-up wall-climbing rope and harness. Together, the two of them attached the harness to the other girl and got the rope looped into it. Once it was secure, Haley slid a pair of climbing gloves onto her hands and gripped the rope tight. ¡°All good!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure about this, Hales?¡± Irelyn tentatively asked, giving that high beam one last look while taking another object from the large bag. This one was a backpack with a few heavy weights in it, which she slipped onto her shoulders before letting that extra weight settle.


    ¡°We got this, Ires,¡± her friend insisted. ¡°Remember what happens if I fall?¡± She held out both hands and opened her mouth, creating a remarkably accurate sound of someone falling into a movie stunt airbag. That had been one of the first things the two of them had found a way for Haley to ¡®record¡¯ even before they¡¯d actually planned to try this. ¡°If it goes wrong, I¡¯ll be okay. But it¡¯s not gonna go wrong.¡±


    With that, the girl picked up the end of the rope, which had a small grapple attached to it. She started swinging it, taking in the sound of the weighted line spinning through the air, while Irelyn took up her own position a few feet away. ¡°You ready?!¡± Getting a quick, determined nod in reply, Haley sent the rope flying toward the beam in the distance.


    She, of course, had no super strength. As a physically ordinary twelve-year-old, there wasn¡¯t the slightest chance in hell that she¡¯d be able to get that rope anywhere near the beam over sixty feet up. But at the very second that she released it, Irelyn was already running forward a couple steps before leaping that way. The other girl¡¯s hand snagged the grapple in mid-flight, carrying it with her all the way to that beam. She didn¡¯t land on it however. Instead, Irelyn literally jumped all the way over the beam before dropping down on the other side. The rope, which had been loudly uncoiling that whole time, went taut as it caught against the beam. Irelyn probably wouldn¡¯t have been enough all by herself to pull Haley off the ground with any speed. But she had the backpack full of weights. So, as she went plummeting back toward the ground, the force of it was enough to almost violently yank at the harness Haley was wearing. The other girl went sailing upward with a yelp, barely managing to hold onto the rope with both hands. The sound of the rope whistling through the air and against the metal beam was automatically filed away by her power. Which was a good thing, since she was mostly focused on watching for the right moment. Just before passing the third floor, before she could collide with the beam about fifteen feet higher, the girl made a sharp cutting motion with her hand, her mouth producing the recorded sound of a blade slicing through a rope identical to the one they were using.


    Immediately, just as Irelyn landed smoothly on the ground below, the rope attached to Haley¡¯s harness was severed. Her momentum still carried her up almost halfway to the fourth floor, before she dropped back down to the third. With a grunt, the girl rolled across the wooden platform, tumbling head over heels before coming to a stop in a heap that was giving off some loud noises.


    ¡°Haley!¡± Irelyn leapt back to that spot, skidding to a stop nearby. ¡°Are you okay?!¡± Only belatedly did she realize the other girl wasn¡¯t crying, but cackling.


    ¡°Oh yeah--wait, let¡¯s find out.¡± Interrupting herself, Haley quickly unbuckled the harness and got herself out of it. Rising, she took a breath before miming the same motion she¡¯d made before, this time without any actual rope to spin. That same sound emerged, as she aimed toward a different extended beam. With a flick of her hand, she sent that imaginary rope outward, almost holding her breath.


    It worked. Even without Irelyn actively grabbing the rope, the sound she had recorded of it flying out still worked. Just like that, Haley was yoinked off the half-finished floor and sent sailing toward the beam off on the far side of the construction site. Even better, at any point she could replay the sound of the rope cutting, which would release her. She did that just as she was passing over the last bit of extant third floor, feeling the invisible ¡®rope¡¯ go slack in her hands as she dropped and rolled once more.


    It hurt, landing like that. But it was oh so worth it. Again, she cackled in delight, popping back up. ¡°It worked! It worked, it worked, it worked! Dude, do you have any idea how fast I can get around now?! I can grapple around like Batman!¡±


    Once Irelyn had hopped over to where she was, both girls hugged one another and jumped up and down a few times, giggling and talking over each other about how cool that was. But soon, it was back to business. Irelyn had brought the severed rope with her, along with the harness. They reattached it to Haley along with a rappelling tool, before hooking the end of the rope to the edge of the open floor they were standing on. Irelyn hopped back to the ground then, watching as Haley rappelled her way safely down, recording the sound for later use. Now she could not only grapple her way up to any spot, but also get down again quickly and safely.


    But that was only the beginning. As soon as Haley was on the ground, she unhooked herself and the two of them put the ropes, harness, and other things back in the bag before looking back at the road to make sure the distant security guard hadn¡¯t finished flirting yet. Once they were satisfied that there was still plenty of time, they went back to the bag and produced what appeared to be an old-school Super Soaker, though this one was made of metal and had a glass container for its very not-water liquid.


    Irelyn was cheating a little bit with this one, but it wasn¡¯t like her dad would miss the prototype in just the few hours they were borrowing it. Besides, he wanted to sell the gun (tool, she reminded herself) to security firms just like the one that worked out here at this construction site.


    ¡°Okay, ready?¡± Holding up the thing against one shoulder, she took aim at the ground and pulled the trigger. The liquid came out with a steady, high-pitched whistling sound, sort of like a tea kettle. It was blueish-white, and quickly created a circle three or four feet wide.


    ¡°Here goes nothing!¡± With that, Haley took a running start and jumped into the middle of the circle. Immediately, she tried to hop out again but couldn¡¯t budge. ¡°Nnngngn¡­ oof, that¡¯s strong stuff. You try, grasshopper.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Flea, not Grasshopper,¡± Irelyn retorted before jumping onto the circle next to her friend. Gathering herself, she tried to leap up. But even with her enhanced leg strength, she couldn¡¯t budge. At least, not at first. It took her a few tries before she finally managed to rip herself free. Which left Haley still stuck.


    ¡°I still think Grasshopper would be better,¡± the other girl shot back before gesturing. ¡°Okay it works, erase this stuff so I can try.¡±


    Making a show of checking the tool, Irelyn grimaced that way. ¡°Oooh, what if I forgot to bring the solvent with us?¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll kill you,¡± Haley informed her with a straight face. Both girls stared at one another before dissolving into giggles as Irelyn switched the tool over to the ¡®dissolve¡¯ function and shot a different spray of liquid that turned the incredibly sticky glue into a soft mist.


    Newly freed and with no trace of the glue that had been there before, Haley turned to point at the ground. ¡°Ready, set, go!¡± She began imitating the sound the spray-gun had made while indicating the ground between the two of them.


    Irelyn, meanwhile, tried walking forward. Three steps in, once she was right where the other girl was pointing, she stopped short. But only for a moment. After coming to a sudden halt for a second or two, she abruptly stumbled forward, off-balance. ¡°Oh! Uh, yeah, it worked but not for very long. It was like the glue was there and then gone.¡±


    ¡°Just like when I spray water at people,¡± Haley noted thoughtfully. ¡°You feel like you¡¯re wet, or glued down, for a second or two then it goes away. I guess it could be better, but hey, if someone¡¯s running away it could really trip them up, you know? You knew why you were being stopped and it still made you stumble. Actually, gluing them for a second and then ungluing them might work out even better. They¡¯ll fall all over themselves!¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Irelyn agreed eagerly, head bobbing up and down. ¡°Then we pounce!¡± This, of course, led to both girls holding their hands up like claws while baring their teeth and making exaggerated growling sounds that quickly became giggles.


    Of course, they weren''t satisfied with simply giving Haley a way to get up and down across the battlefield or very briefly make someone stumble. She needed a way to hit people hard enough to make them fall down. She had already watched people at a gun range enough to record several calibers of that for an emergency. And from tests she had done on her own, the mimed bullets could do some nasty damage. She''d hit several targets with them in an area of the city where few people would report the odd gunshot or two.


    Neither of them were exactly certain how her power did its thing. The best guess was that it was some sort of very limited and specific telekinesis that was dictated by the sound she duplicated. That would cover a lot of it like being yanked around by the grapple, or the telekinesis temporarily holding someone''s foot to the ground to imitate the glue. But no one seemed to know how telekinesis would make someone briefly feel wet when she threw an invisible bucket of water at them.


    But in any case, it was obvious that she couldn¡¯t go around reproducing gunshots to stop criminals. That wouldn''t go over very well. She needed other options that wouldn¡¯t make everyone get all upset. To that end, the two girls dragged another object out of their big bag. This one was a man-sized dummy, the sort used in police ballistic tests (spending so much time around the police training center had its privileges). They dragged the thing over near a cement wall and carefully set it up. Then Irelyn dug around in the bag for a moment before coming out with a long metal tube with an open hole in the side near the top, and a leather handle near the bottom. It looked sort of like a baseball bat with a hole in the side near where it would hit the ball. Taking a batting stance, she held the weapon and gave it a hard swing as soon as the other girl was ready. Just as the bat came around with a hard whiffing sound, she pressed a button on the grip. Immediately, a powerful gust of wind shot out of the hole, which was lined up with the dummy. It was very contained, focused solely on the target. As it went, there was a sound sort of like a new can of tennis balls being opened. Only louder.


    The ball of wind slammed into the dummy and sent it sprawling backward into the wall. Quickly, the two girls set it up right once more before Haley took the same sort of stance as her friend, this time without the bat. She duplicated the same motion and sound, and was able to get the same effect. But it was even better than that. The two of them were able to try several more times, varying the strength of the swing to make a lighter or harder burst of wind. After recording several of those, Haley could quite effectively control how hard she hit someone with that.


    And they weren¡¯t done there. They had more tools in the bag, including a stun gun, a bola that could wrap around someone¡¯s legs, and what looked like a handheld vacuum cleaner that could make someone feel very hot. Not enough to burn them or anything, but it could make them feel overwhelmingly sweltering so it would be hard to do anything.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Haley was able to duplicate all of them simply by hearing the sounds and watching what they did. Some of those sounds were so quiet or subtle that Irelyn couldn¡¯t make out anything, but Haley assured her the sounds were there and being duplicated. Her enhanced hearing meant she could pick up a lot more than other people.


    So it went on through another twenty minutes or so, until they saw the guard truck finally starting to return. By the time the man finally made it back, they were gone, leaving no sign of their little exercise. No sign, that was, aside from all the new tools Haley would put to use as a member of the Minority over the next few years. And, after that, for even more years as a mercenary.


    Though at that point, she really didn¡¯t mind echoing guns anymore.


    ********


    Amber and Dani After Whamline¡¯s Death


    Exhausted as she was after the whole ordeal with Whamline, Amber still jumped herself and Dani several times in quick succession, a handful of teleports that took them far away from the spot where the boy¡¯s body was.


    Amber knew she was going to have to go back and deal with that eventually. She was going to have to talk to everyone, explain what happened and why, and just give her side of the story. There were going to be questions, interrogations, and there would probably be people who thought she shouldn''t be part of the Minority anymore. Hell, there would probably be people who wanted to lock her up, no matter what that bastard had done. And she wasn''t even sure she would be able to blame them. She had made a choice. She consciously let him die. There were extenuating circumstances. She honestly didn''t know if she could have contained or stopped him after teleporting the boy out from under the falling rubble. He could''ve escaped. He could have gone on to kill more people. Maybe a lot more. How would she feel then? If she let him go, let the boy who had killed her father escape and he managed to destroy even more lives, how would she live with herself?


    Not that she was especially looking forward to living with herself after what she actually did do. The terror in his eyes when that building was coming down and he knew he couldn''t escape, when he knew she was his only chance, kept playing back through her head. When she closed her eyes, she saw his desperation and panic. And yet, she also saw the viciousness and evil in his eyes before, when he had been gloating about what he was going to do to her and her friends.


    ¡°Hey.¡± Dani''s voice shook Amber out of her dwelling thoughts and back to the current situation. The two of them were at Dani''s second apartment, which the other girl had assured Amber would be left undisturbed. No one else from La Casa aside from Broadway and Eits knew where the apartment was. She¡¯d rented it with a secondary identity to have a place to go if anything went wrong with Blackjack¡¯s crew, and came now and then to get a break from that whole situation.


    The apartment wasn''t very big, it was actually just a studio place with an attached kitchenette and bathroom. What took up the bulk of the space was a truly enormous bean bag chair set in front of a widescreen television with several gaming systems attached to it. It was obvious that Dani came here to vegetate and get her mind off everything.


    There were also several large terrariums around the room, with holes cut in them for the lizards to pass in and out as they pleased.


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m here,¡± Amber assured the other girl, forcing herself to focus. The two of them had just finished eating pizza, though Amber had almost fallen asleep right in her plate a few times. Dani had insisted she get something in her stomach. Now, she stood from the small table in a corner of the room, yawning. ¡°I¡­ I should go talk to--¡±


    ¡°Ohh no.¡± Dani shook her head, taking her by the hand. ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere, not yet. Look, I know there''s a lot you need to do, but I''ve got your back. I mean, as much of your back as I can have. You''re not ready to talk to anyone, and you know it.¡± Gently, yet firmly, she guided Amber over to the bean bag. ¡°Here, just sit down for a minute. You''d be pretty shocked at how comfortable this thing is. You¡¯ve gotta rest, babe. You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re just¡­¡± She bit her lip, clearly unsure of how to proceed. In the end, she settled on leaning down to pick up the three-foot long Mars Bar, who had been crawling around at her feet. Cradling the iguana briefly, she set him down on one side of Amber. ¡°Here, even if he¡¯s not in bear form, he makes a pretty good Teddy.¡±


    With a very small smile, Amber carefully scratched the iguana before reaching down off the side of the beanbag to pick up Twinkletoes, the chameleon. She sat him next to her head before patting the open space beside her. ¡°You''re right, this thing is pretty big.¡± Though she tried to sound casual, there was a hollowness to her voice, as though she was just going through the motions and trying very hard not to let the other girl see how devastated she was.


    ¡°Hey.¡± Carefully sitting down next to Amber on the bag, Dani shook her head. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that. You don¡¯t need to pretend you¡¯re okay. It¡­ it¡¯s alright. It¡¯s okay to not be okay. He was¡­ he was¡­ you thought he was your friend. If I was--¡± She stopped herself, flinching. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± Though her voice was still strained, Amber managed a very faint smile that way. ¡°You don¡¯t have to have all the answers. We don¡¯t¡­ we don¡¯t need to talk about it right now. Can you just¡­ umm¡­ be here?¡± In that moment, she sounded far less like a confident, powerful superhero member of the Minority, and more like a small child asking to stay with a guardian after a bad dream.


    With zero hesitation, Dani nodded and laid back on the bag. Her voice was soft. ¡°Yeah, I''m here. I''ll be here as long as you need. I promise, I''m not going anywhere. We don¡¯t have to talk about that.¡±


    Making a noise of relief, Amber shifted over onto her side. Her hand slipped down to find Dani¡¯s, interlacing their fingers before her head found its way to the other girl¡¯s shoulder. Still, she kept her eyes open and stared toward the pretty face next to her. ¡°I don''t care anymore,¡± she announced in a soft, barely audible voice. ¡°I don''t care about the cops and robbers stuff. I don''t care about any of that. I¡­ I like you.¡±


    Swallowing, Dani squeezed her hand before reaching over with the other to gently brush Amber¡¯s dark hair away from her eyes as their gazes met, only inches away from one another given the other girl¡¯s position with her head against Dani¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I like you too, babe. But you don''t have to say anything else right now. We don''t need to¡­ we don¡¯t need to get into any of that. Just¡­ I¡¯m here. I¡¯m right here.¡±


    She wasn''t the only one there, of course. Mars Bar and Twinkletoes were pressed up around Amber, one on the opposite side from Dani and the other by her head. And soon, the rest of the lizards, who had been prowling around the apartment, made their way over and climbed up to seek out the body heat. Tuesday the gecko lay in the space between Amber and Dani¡¯s heads, Riddles the bearded dragon curled up on Amber¡¯s stomach, Holiday the skink nestled into the space between the bag and her shoulder, and Scatters the tiny neon day gecko settled against their clasped hands. Amber stuck her other arm under Dani¡¯s neck to pull her closer, letting out a soft, contented sigh in that moment. She didn''t say anything. There was no need to. They were both comfortable like this. Not only physically, but in every other way. As broken as Amber felt about the whole situation with Whamline, and as much as the idea of talking about it with everyone else brought bile to her throat, none of that mattered. Not right then. Now, at this moment, only Dani mattered. Dani and her lizards, because they were an extension of her. They were part of her. Everything else could wait.


    For several long, yet perfect minutes, the two of them lay there together in contentment. Amber thought she might fall asleep like that, but somehow, her eyes stayed open. Maybe she was still a little afraid of what would haunt her dreams. In the end, she whispered, ¡°Can I ask you something?¡±


    Again, Dani responded with zero hesitation. ¡°Anything you want. Unless it involves getting up and moving away from this spot. That might be asking too much.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± A soft, tender murmur of denial came as Amber¡¯s head shook, burrowing a bit closer to the other girl without squishing any of the lizards. ¡°I hope we never move again. No, what¡­ I just¡­ I was wondering if you could tell me how you got your powers, what happened. I mean, if you don¡¯t want to get into it, that¡¯s okay. I just want to know you. The real you.¡±


    Moving her free hand through the other girl''s hair tenderly, Dani managed a soft smile while exhaling slowly. ¡°Yeah, I think you deserve that much.¡± Her voice caught a bit before she gently kissed Amber''s forehead. ¡°If you really want to hear it, I¡¯ll tell you about myself. But I promise it¡¯s really not that special. I¡¯m not secretly a princess or the sole survivor of a ninja clan. My parents aren¡¯t supervillains or heroes, and I wasn¡¯t raised by tigers. I¡¯m nothing special.¡±


    ¡°Well you¡¯re wrong about that.¡± Amber¡¯s voice was flat as she shifted a bit to kiss Dani¡¯s shoulder and snuggled against her. ¡°You¡¯re Dani, and there¡¯s no one more special than that.¡±


    A warm blush crossed Dani''s face and it took her a moment to find her voice again. ¡°Okay okay, I¡¯ll tell you all about the boring old story of where Dani Kalvers came from. I guess if nothing else, it¡¯d be a good way to help you sleep.¡±


    And yet, that much she was wrong about. As Dani told Amber the story of her past, the other girl lay there in rapt attention. It wasn¡¯t boring at all. Not because she actually did have some secret, super-special history connecting her to some long-lost hero or anything. But because she was Dani, and learning more about her would never be boring for Amber. No matter where the other girl came from or who her family had been, Amber would find her life endlessly fascinating. She was Dani, and that was all that mattered.


    She listened through all of the other girl¡¯s story, asking questions now and then, until it was done. Dani offered a little shrug then. ¡°That¡¯s who I am. See, nothing special.¡±


    ¡°Liar,¡± Amber whispered, lifting her head a little until she could touch her lips to Dani¡¯s gently. ¡°You are very special. Don¡¯t make me get off this bag and kick your butt about it.¡±


    Giggling despite herself, Dani whispered back, their lips still brushing one another. ¡°I¡¯d love to see you try.¡±


    A long moment of contented silence passed, before Amber kissed her once more, a soft, lingering connection before she settled her head against Dani¡¯s shoulder again. ¡°Maybe later,¡± she managed. ¡°Once you nap a little so it¡¯s a fair fight.¡±


    Dani said nothing to that, simply snuggling in against the other girl. The lizards did the same. And for quite some time after that, there were no other sounds aside from the soft, steady breathing of two sleeping girls and six small reptiles. Eventually, Amber would need to deal with everything. She would need to talk about Jerry. But for now, she was with Dani.


    For now, for this moment, that was enough to let her sleep without the pain.


    ************


    A Look At An Autistic Fell-Touched


    Sitting in the driver¡¯s seat of a dark-colored van, a pale-skinned young man right on the cusp of his twenties, with a smattering of freckles across his face and a mess of scattered red hair, stared intently at an open map in front of him. Not a map app on a phone screen or on the van¡¯s console, but an actual physical paper map. That¡¯s what he preferred. That¡¯s what he had to have. Touch screens were cold and empty. He didn¡¯t like those. He liked paper, the big maps that unfolded so he could run his fingers along the path he wanted to take and picture every turn properly. Cold, empty touch screen maps were bad. They wouldn¡¯t do at all. He had made that much very clear. As did the stack of maps both in the glove box and taking up part of the rear of the van. He collected them. Not just real maps of actual places, but fantasy and science fiction maps as well. Every type of map he could get, as long as it was a physical copy. Some thought he had a problem, given how many maps he kept. He thought they were the weird ones, because why wouldn¡¯t you want a map? Maps helped you know where everything was, and where everything should be. Things had places they were supposed to be, and maps showed you where those places were and how to get to them.


    Maps were more important than people realized. But he knew. He kept them safe.


    The young man also wore a pair of bright purple headphones, which were playing Beatles music. He liked the Beatles, they helped him think. And, just as often, not think. His favorite song was Ticket To Ride. Whenever he felt stressed and thought he couldn¡¯t handle another moment in the world, listening to that song calmed him down. Sometimes even just humming the tune was enough.


    He was still in the midst of listening to that all-time best band in the world when the back door of the van was abruptly yanked open. A voice called out over the sound of those melodic tones. ¡°Sorry, Jack, we gotta go!¡±


    Another voice back there chided the first. ¡°Hey, when we''re on a job, it''s Drive. And don''t just shout at him like that.¡±


    That second man climbed through the back while the first and a couple others were tossing boxes of stolen goods into the open space. Already, Jack, or Drive, had taken his headphones off and dropped them in his lap, hands tightly gripping the wheel while he stared at the clock on the nearby dash. ¡°It''s not time yet,¡± he announced firmly, as though convinced that if he simply explained that they had come too soon, they would go back and return to the proper schedule. ¡°Thirteen minutes. You still have thirteen minutes. You''re not supposed to be here yet. It was planned. We have a plan and you stick to plans. It''s important to stick to plans. Or it all falls apart. Plans are important.¡±


    Clambering into the passenger seat, the other man, whose name was Ben, looked at the driver, his expression hidden by the black ski mask he was wearing. ¡°Sorry, dude. Trust me, we would''ve stuck to the plan, I promise. But listen to this.¡± He reached out to the radio, touching the thing to turn it on. Immediately, the van was filled with the sound of an announcer informing the public, for what was apparently yet another time out of several, that all streets in Detroit would be closed for the foreseeable future within the next ten minutes.


    ¡°Ellis heard it on the radio back in the shop,¡± Ben informed him. ¡°They''re closing down all the streets, Drive. So we''ve gotta get out of here while we can. I don''t know what they''re doing, but I don''t want to be stuck next to a place that just got robbed when they shut down all the roads.¡±


    While the other man was talking, Drive had started to hum softly to himself while reaching up to press the button to turn the dome light on. He then turned it off again with a flick of the button, on, then off, then on. All of which might have made someone who hadn''t known him as long as Ben had to think he was being rude or not listening. But he was definitely listening. He was calming himself down so he could react to this change of plans. He really didn''t like it when plans changed. It made his already very extant anxiety even worse. They had spent hours very carefully and specifically plotting out the exact path to get to this place to avoid any attention, how long the others would spend in there, and the route back. He had prepped three separate potential routes depending entirely around which direction any potential pursuit came from. But this? This was all wrong. It was thirteen minutes early. Eleven and a half now. He had to adjust. He had to bring himself under control. And that meant calming down so he could focus. Light on, light off, light on, light off. It was reassuring. When you pressed the button the light came on, when you pressed it again, it turned off. Each time with a satisfying click. Some car lights didn¡¯t click. That was wrong. They were supposed to click.


    Finally, after what probably felt like forever to the others considering the stakes, the red-haired man straightened in his seat and set his headphones aside. ¡°Okay,¡± he announced in a voice that still cracked just a little from the effort of pulling himself together. ¡°It¡¯s okay. The time is okay. We can adjust. We can move. The road¡¯s there, it¡¯s there so we can use it. Yeah, we can use it early.¡± While saying that, he gave the map in front of him one last glance to assure himself of its existence, then folded it up and tucked the thing aside. He didn¡¯t need the thing anyway. Not around here. He had every single street in this city memorized. He¡¯d had the streets memorized since he and Ben had been kids running around with barely any adult supervision. They had been neighbors both at home and at school, their desks always next to one another since Ben was often the only one Jack would talk to. Ben understood Jack in a way most others didn¡¯t and probably never would.


    ¡°Hey, you took off your helmet.¡± Pointing that out, Ben reached down and picked up the full face-covering racing helmet. It was black, with neon green lines drawn along either side in a pattern that was reminiscent of the star trails left behind when sci-fi starships would jump to warp speed. The visor was dark, but also had very faint green lines dancing across it now and then that were visible to people looking at it, but not at all to anyone wearing the thing so they wouldn¡¯t be distracting.


    ¡°Had to,¡± Drive informed his partner and best friend while taking the helmet to put it back on his head. Now his face was covered, his expression hidden. ¡°Looks suspicious sitting here for thirty-two minutes with a helmet if anyone went past.¡± He paused, pointedly amending, ¡°Nineteen minutes. Still suspicious.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± one of the men in the back called up while he and the others hopped in with their ill-gotten goods and yanked the doors shut. ¡°Let¡¯s get the hell out of here. There¡¯s already some firetruck down the street getting in position, looks like they¡¯re getting ready to shut it all down. You sure it¡¯s not about us?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about us,¡± Ben assured him. ¡°There¡¯s like two hundred k worth of shit in those crates, maybe. No way they go to all this trouble just for that.¡± He squinted back through the windshield to see a couple cop cars cruising past the next cross street. ¡°Uh, that said, we should really go.¡±


    That was all he had to say. Drive was already shifting himself in the seat, hands on the wheel. And yet, despite the fact that his hand didn''t move anywhere near the ignition (indeed, there weren''t any keys in the slot at all), the van abruptly hummed with power. But it wasn''t coming from the still-silent engine. It came from Drive himself. That was part of his power, the gift he had been given by the orb that had come to see them not so long ago, when they were both about to lose their apartment and had few prospects ahead of them.


    The system had quite thoroughly failed Jack, who found it incredibly difficult and frustrating to hold down a regular job and kept running into more and more bureaucracy making it difficult to receive the SSI and SSDI (Supplemental Security Income and Social Security Disability Insurance respectively) he was supposed to be entitled to. He had finally found a data input position he enjoyed, but an angry boss who thought that the young man¡¯s quirks were simply him ¡®being stubborn¡¯ and that he ¡®needed to grow the fuck up¡¯ had put an end to that. And without Jack there, Ben had walked off the job as well. But only after putting his fist into the asshole¡¯s nose.


    But, satisfying as that had been, it had made it even harder to find new jobs. They engaged in a bit of petty crime and found their way to street level positions as members of the Oscuro gang. Then, during a job that went wrong a couple months earlier, Jack had Touched. Now he had powers. Real powers. They were still working out exactly what to do with that, but it meant he was rapidly climbing the ranks of importance within Oscuro. Cu¨¦lebre wanted people with powers, even ones with issues like Jack. He accepted them. He was willing to work with them, even willing to give Jack time to figure out his power a bit better with some smaller jobs before involving him in the bigger stuff. And he acknowledged that if Jack was going anywhere, it had to be with Ben, his partner.


    With the van purring under the power generated from Drive himself, the man pushed the gas pedal. He didn''t really need to, of course. His ability allowed him to simply power and move any object he was inside of, be it a car, truck, helicopter, a suit of heavy armor that wouldn¡¯t otherwise move, even clothes. But he still pushed the gas pedal anyway, because it felt right.


    And yet, his power wasn''t limited to simply providing energy and direction for any given vehicle. The next part came as they accelerated straight toward the intersection, rapidly picking up speed.


    ¡°Buckle up back there!¡± Ben called over his shoulder, ensuring that his own belt was secure. ¡°Give us a countdown, Drive!¡±


    ¡°Five¡­ four¡­¡± the other man promptly began. ¡°... three¡­. two¡­ one¡­ engage.¡±


    And engage he did. At that exact instant, Drive triggered the other part of his power. Abruptly, a tunnel of bright neon lights appeared all around the van. To anyone on the outside, it would look as though the van was suddenly elongated to twice or three times its normal length. And then the van would simply vanish from sight completely.


    Within the van, the tunnel of neon lights were all they could see through the windows. It only lasted about ten seconds, before the lights faded and they found themselves back in front of the old warehouse building they had left from much earlier that night. That was Drive¡¯s real power. He could send any vehicle or object he was empowering through what amounted to hyperspace or warp-speed. He called it a pocket universe where objects could move much faster and without anything to block them. His power allowed him to navigate that ¡®other space¡¯ perfectly, so he could get anywhere in the city within thirty to forty seconds at worst. That was why it was so important that he know exactly where he wanted to go thanks to memorizing those maps. He mentally directed the vehicle through every turn within that brief span of time.


    ¡°See?¡± Ben squeezed his best friend¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Told you we¡¯d be fine.¡± To Jack, he added, ¡°You okay?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± came the response after a moment, as the red-haired man took off the helmet once more. He picked up the headphones and put them back on his head, turning his music on once more. That was all he said, and there was no need to say anything else. He¡¯d answered the question, why would he spend more time and effort elaborating?


    Ben, who knew his friend perfectly well, didn¡¯t expect anything else. Instead, he nodded to the others. ¡°Let¡¯s get the stuff inside and let Cu¨¦lebre know it¡¯s all good.


    ¡°Then maybe we can watch the news and find out what the fuck¡¯s going on out there tonight.¡±

 Acceptance 29-14

    Pencil was down. He was down. I couldn''t believe it. The actual shock of what had just happened hit me a moment later and I staggered backward until my back hit the wall. Then I slid down to a seated position with my knees up, staring at him in disbelief.


    That lasted for just a second before the cold realization of how stupid I was being washed over me and I immediately scrambled that way while grabbing a set of stay-down cuffs. I immediately snapped them onto his wrists, securing his hands behind his back. But I wasn''t satisfied with that. Not by a long shot. Instead, with the help of a little purple boost, I quickly ripped most of his left sleeve and tied it into his mouth so he couldn''t speak any verbal commands for any embedded tech he might have. Given I balled some of it up inside his mouth, that would also hopefully stop him from activating anything hidden in his teeth. Meanwhile, his right sleeve was torn off and used to tie his ankles together as well as I could.


    And no, I still wasn''t satisfied with that. And looking around, I spotted some scotch tape laying near one of the broken filing cabinets. It wouldn''t do for holding his arms or legs, but for this bit, it might be enough. At least for now. I grabbed the tape and used the entire roll on his hands. I taped his fingers together so he couldn''t snap or make any special motions or gestures to activate other Touched tech.


    After another moment of thought, I took his shoes off, just in case he had some teleportation tricks or something else nasty in there too that he could set off with his toes. And on that note, I found another roll of scotch tape and used that on his feet to keep those toes straight.


    Yeah, maybe I was being paranoid with all this. Maybe it would''ve been fine just to drag him out like that to find the others. But I could just picture him waking up partway through that, snapping his fingers, and disappearing. After everything that had just happened, I absolutely wasn''t going to risk that. Before he could even start to recover from slamming his face into the floor and knocking himself out, he was handcuffed, gagged, bound at the ankles, and had his fingers and toes taped up too much to make any complicated gestures or motions with them. And I was still taking a moment to think if there were any other easy ways I could reduce his mobility or eliminate the chance of him pulling some piece of shit trick out his ass to escape.


    It was while I was thinking about that and squinting around the room anxiously that I finally remembered what he had said about cameras. Oh, thank God I hadn¡¯t gone with my instinct to rip my helmet off and start hyperventilating. I had no idea if he was telling the truth about us having an audience, but it wasn''t something I wanted to risk.


    I couldn¡¯t exactly stand around looking for cameras either. Not with everything that was going on. I had to let the others know where I was and get Pencil to someone who could properly contain him with something other than a single set of cuffs, ripped cloth, and scotch tape. So, reaching down to grab the unconscious bastard by the ankles, I started dragging him out of the room. Which only served to remind me of the pain in my shoulder from where he had cut me. Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t that deep, but pulling this bastard around really wasn¡¯t fun. About halfway to the door, audibly panting and grunting the whole time after everything I¡¯d just been through, I thought to say something for the maybe-audience who could still be seeing and hearing all this. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, it¡¯s not really him. It¡¯s a clone, or a robot, or something like that. Something that¡¯s gonna screw us all over because of course the bad guy has to escape. It¡¯s Pencil, he always escapes. He must¡¯ve put some sort of high tech Mission Impossible flesh disguise mask on someone else and convinced that poor schmuck to pose as him while the real Pencil retreated or something, right?¡±


    By that point, I had started pulling the man by his ankles again and made it to the doors. I had to find the way up to the--wait, the forcefield. Feeling like an idiot (and realizing that everyone watching, if they existed, probably thought I was too), I put a hand against the door. Sure enough, the shield appeared. Great, just great.


    Hanging my head, I slowly turned to look at the unconscious body at my feet while a low groan escaped me. ¡°Do I have to go dig around in his pockets? Oh God, I really don¡¯t wanna doooo thaaaaat¡­¡± My voice turned to a slight whine of disgust, before I heaved a heavy sigh and did just that, very carefully. ¡°Never, ever let anyone tell you guys that being Star-Touched is glamor--awww there¡¯s crumbs he has crumbs! Eww.¡±


    Yeah, maybe I was playing it up just a little. Partly because I wanted to reduce the tension and fear now that Pencil was¡­ well, basically contained even if I didn¡¯t want to jinx it by thinking those words too loudly, and to take away the aura of terror and mystery he¡¯d cultivated for so long. That was why I¡¯d made a point of making the fucker knock himself out with tied-together shoelaces, and it was why I was playing up how gross and crumb-filled his pockets were. It took away the mystery, it made him seem like just some guy. That was what he deserved to be remembered as while he was locked up on Breakwater forever. Or wherever they could shove him and throw away the key after getting rid of all his extra tech. Everyone who ever watched this needed to see that he wasn¡¯t some evil demon. He was just an asshole with a trick.


    I did manage to find some sort of keyfob in his pocket in the process of all that. On the front of it was an image of a shield, along with a single button. Part of me immediately said that was a trick. But on the other hand, I doubted he expected anyone to actually get far enough to root around in his pockets. Maybe if he was planning on dropping it somewhere so he could laugh when someone tried turning the shield off and just managed to set off some bombs he had planted or something?


    No, I didn¡¯t think so. He probably would¡¯ve found a way to let me ¡®find¡¯ the remote then so I¡¯d think I could turn off the shield and end up hurting myself or killing everyone else. Especially toward the end there, when he¡¯d been getting desperate. He never used this thing as a trap, which told me it wasn¡¯t one.


    I started to press the button on it before catching myself. Instead, I found a bare piece of his finger that wasn¡¯t covered with tape and used that to press the button. Just in case he¡¯d rigged it to do something bad if someone other than him activated the thing.


    Thankfully, it worked. With a briefly rising hum of energy, the shield vanished.


    I was planning on saying something else to the audience before going through the door. But just then, in the instant that the shield went down, Paige¡¯s voice slammed into my ears through my earbud so suddenly, unexpectedly, and loudly that I literally jumped, jerking backward in a way that had to be visible wherever those cameras were.


    ¡°--to you right now! We¡¯re trying to track the--¡±


    ¡°Poise!¡± I managed while shoving myself back up. Grabbing Captain Useless Sack Of Murderous Potato--no wait, potatoes were good. Sack Of Murderous¡­ Turnips by the ankles once more, I started moving again, shoving the door open. ¡°I¡¯m okay! I¡¯m alright, where are you guys? I¡¯ve got--uhh¡­¡±


    ¡°Paintball!¡± Paige had managed to collect herself as I decided how much to say right then. The obvious relief in her voice actually brought a slight blush to my face. ¡°You¡¯re okay. You¡¯re--you¡¯re okay. Wait, what¡¯s--¡±


    ¡°I have Pencil,¡± I reported, while looking around the empty, foreboding-looking, L-shaped hallway I¡¯d found myself in right after leaving that other room. It looked like something out of a horror movie, honestly. Hell, the lights were even flickering. There were a couple doors to the right, and as I continued down the hall, I found the elevator around the bend to the left.


    ¡°Wait.¡± That was Alloy. ¡°What do you mean, you have Pencil?¡±


    Dragging the bastard in question to the elevator, I hit the button to go up. ¡°I mean he¡¯s unconscious and tied up right now, but we¡¯re about to head your way now. Err, what floor are you on? What¡¯s happening? Is everyone--I mean¡­¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°We got split up from the Minority,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°But last we saw, they¡¯re okay. We were looking for you and¡­ and there were a lot of things between us and you. But you¡¯re really okay?¡± Her voice caught a bit then, softening just a little. Not enough for most people to catch, but I heard it.


    ¡°I¡¯m alive and he¡¯s unconscious,¡± I managed after giving the man¡¯s motionless form another look. ¡°He¡¯s about as secure as I can get him right now. Guess you didn¡¯t catch the broadcast.¡± I heard her start to ask what I meant by that, but pushed on. ¡°I¡¯m bringing him up to you on the elevator if you just--¡± In that moment, the doors in front of me dinged and whooshed open. Which allowed me to see the six different masked figures inside, all pointing guns at me. None of them seemed happy to see me holding what I was going to guess was their trussed-up boss by the ankles.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I started, sounding exhausted even to my own ears, ¡°I really should¡¯ve--¡±


    Once again I was interrupted. That time, it came from the loud bang of something slamming down on top of the elevator they were in. All six men twisted around to look up, just as the hatch was torn open. A figure dropped right into the middle of that pack. I had time to hear several gunshots, cries, the snap of multiple broken bones and various thuds as things hit the walls of the elevator repeatedly.


    Then, as quickly as it began, there was silence. Those half-dozen men lay in crumpled heaps, while Paige hopped over the last of them, darted out of the elevator, and grabbed me in a tight embrace. It was almost painful. ¡°You¡¯re okay,¡± she breathed out, clearly convincing herself of that. ¡°You¡¯re alright.¡±


    Releasing one of Pencil¡¯s ankles (No way was I going to risk the piece of shit magically disappearing just because I took both hands off him), I returned the embrace. ¡°Did you really just jump down through an entire elevator shaft just to kick their asses for me?¡±


    ¡°I slid down on the chain,¡± she shot back, finally releasing me after another moment so she could look at the unconscious figure. ¡°You fought him¡­ you beat him.¡±


    ¡°It was a whole thing,¡± I replied with a grimace. ¡°He said he broadcast it, so it¡¯s probably out there. I just--¡± Taking in a long, deep breath before letting it out, I settled on, ¡°What about everyone--all the patients?¡±


    Crouching next to Pencil, Paige examined him briefly. ¡°They¡¯re okay. Scions came out of the woodwork as soon as he took you, doing everything they could to keep us busy. Lots of Touched-Tech toys. They were really pulling out all the stops. I¡­¡± Whatever she had been about to say, the girl shook it off while straightening up. ¡°We need to get him into custody. That¡¯s what matters right now. Before he wakes up--¡± Her foot lashed out backwards to collide with Pencil¡¯s face as he started to jerk upward out of nowhere. ¡°--again.¡± Reaching down to grab the shoulders of the once-more unconscious man, she gestured. ¡°Grab that side. I told the others to wait up there.¡±


    Together, the two of us carried our prisoner onto the elevator, shoved the unconscious figures of his followers out, and then rode it upstairs. My thought had been to take it to the lobby and carry him out to the cops who had to be arriving by now, but Paige informed me that the lobby was full of Scions people in a fight with those very same Stars and Shields. It was a whole thing, apparently. The point was, taking Pencil there was probably a bad idea. We needed to get him to where others could help keep him contained until this whole situation was settled. That was in the VIP area where the remaining building guards were holed up. Let the others deal with getting the rest of the building under control. We would go to the most secure area, lock this fucker down as tightly as we could, and only hand him off directly to Caishen or someone like that. Pencil--Nick--was the real prize here. Him and--


    ¡°Where¡¯s Cup?¡± I finally realized, even as we were stepping off the elevator to join the others. Trevithick was already throwing herself at me to squeeze somehow even tighter than Paige had, and Qwerty was doing the same thing but to the side of my face as he landed on my shoulder. I had to drop the legs I was holding so I could return Wren¡¯s hug with one arm and reach up with my other hand to gently squeeze the squirrel-bird. ¡°Hey, guys. I¡¯m okay. I--it¡¯s okay.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know where Cup is,¡± Alloy informed me a bit tersely. She was looking around the waiting room area where Paige and I had come up, as though expecting either the Fell-Touched herself or an army of their psycho troops to jump out from behind a couch or chair any second. ¡°And if you¡¯re right about Pencil broadcasting your fight with him, they¡¯ll know you have him now.¡±


    ¡°So they¡¯ll be coming, just like those six did,¡± I agreed. ¡°Which means we need to get somewhere safe. Or at least as safe as we can get in here. What about the Minority?¡±


    Sierra was the one who answered. ¡°There were some nasty types coming up a rear stairway. They went to help deal with that while we escort you and your new prisoner behind secure lines. Well, as secure as they get in here, anyway. I don''t know how the hell they managed to get this many people in here, but it''s been a bit of a war zone.¡±


    Trevithick¡¯s head bumped up and down. The poor kid looked exhausted and worn out. They had clearly been through a lot while I was busy. ¡°There''s so many of them, and they keep coming.¡±


    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± I announced, even as I reached down to grab Pencil¡¯s ankles. ¡°How do they have so many guys willing to throw themselves into this? I know there''s a lot of disturbed people out there, people who just want to hurt and kill. But really? They''ve got enough friends to bring a small army into this place?¡±


    ¡°Define small,¡± Hobbes muttered. She was favoring one arm noticeably, where I could see a cut in the reinforced protective suit she was wearing. ¡°All I''m saying is that if that cocksucker could pull out this many friends to help him pull this off, he must¡¯ve been doing a lot more recruiting than anyone knew.¡±


    ¡°Soooo many,¡± Qwerty agreed. ¡°First I thought they were just changing clothes and coming back to trick us, but I keep labeling them and they keep showing up with more that aren¡¯t labeled!¡±


    ¡°And we still don¡¯t know where he stashed his sister,¡± Calvin pointed out. ¡°Who knows how many guys he¡¯s got watching over her.¡±


    My head shook while we hurried across the waiting area and toward the back hallways leading into the VIP section. ¡°Pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t trust most of them to do that. I sure as hell wouldn¡¯t. He¡¯ll have her somewhere he knows is safe. Or as safe as it could be. Maybe not even in the building, I dunno.¡±


    By that point, we had reached the doorway leading to the area where everyone was holed up. Two uniformed security guards with heavy duty guns were standing there behind a makeshift barrier made of tables and chairs. When they saw us, and who Poise and I were carrying, they quickly slid the front two tables aside and beckoned us through into the room beyond. ¡°Holy shit,¡± one of them started, ¡°is that really him?¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Yeah, it''s him. Which means we¡¯re probably gonna have company soon. Unless the people downstairs can get the building under control first.¡± Even as I said that, I was looking around. The door into my parents¡¯ room was right there in sight. There were also another four or five security guards and a dozen or so nurses and doctors.


    ¡°Doubtful.¡± That was Wobble, as he and the rest of the Minority came jogging in through one of the other doors. I felt a tiny bit of the tension in me relax when I saw Raindrop with them and she gave me a short, subtle nod before her eyes shifted toward the door into our parents¡¯ room. They were okay.


    Wobble continued as they came to a panting stop. ¡°It¡¯s pretty heavy down there. We managed to get a message out, but--holy fuck is that¡­¡±


    ¡°The guest of honor,¡± I confirmed flatly. ¡°He¡¯s been compromised. And by compromised, I mean you can hit him and he¡¯ll feel it. Just ask Poise. I¡¯ve been trying to make sure he can¡¯t trigger anything or escape when he wakes up. But his fans are gonna be swarming the place as soon as they figure out where we are.¡± Even as I said that, I was already grimacing. ¡°Maybe we should find another spot. Or I can make a hole in the wall and we can get everyone out of here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll never make it,¡± one of the doctors put in. ¡°Not with the patients. They¡¯ll try to wander off, or struggle because they don¡¯t understand what¡¯s going on. They won¡¯t--even the conscious ones can¡¯t be moved easily. And trying to go through a hole in the wall and all the way to the ground? It won¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°Not to mention all the bad guys with guns out there,¡± Style pointed out. ¡°The best move is to hole up in one spot like this. It¡¯s easy to defend this area, there¡¯s only a couple ways in and out and they¡¯ve got troops watching both of them.¡±


    Reluctantly, I nodded, taking a look at everyone once more. The Minority people had clearly been through the wringer as well. And the guards didn¡¯t look much better. None of them--none of us-- were in any state to charge for the exit. The safer option was to hunker down, guard the two ways in here, and wait for help. Hell, maybe whoever had shot those other guys in the head would show up to pitch in. I still didn¡¯t know what was up with that. Unless Pencil had done it himself to serve as camouflage. But that felt wrong.


    Either way, we had to get ready, because this situation wasn¡¯t over yet. That swarm of heavily-armed fanatics Pencil had somehow managed to recruit would be coming for us. I just hoped we could hold out until reinforcements showed up.


    Honestly, how had me catching Pencil turned out to be only the beginning of this night?

 Non-Canon 31 - Birthday Preparations

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    Well, this was going to be¡­ interesting. Not to mention probably loud and violent too.


    A small, half-amused smile crossed Irelyn Banners¡¯ face as she drove her car around the corner of the street leading to the gate in front of her family¡¯s house and stopped there. That very thought applied double in this situation. Coming back to this place at all was bound to cause some friction given her father¡¯s attitude toward her (he hadn¡¯t disowned her as a joke, after all), especially when it was on his new daughter¡¯s birthday. She could only imagine the way he would¡¯ve reacted to her appearance on a day like this, even if absolutely nothing else was going on. It would¡¯ve been explosive.


    But there was more to it than that. Because Paige wasn¡¯t just his new daughter, she was-- well, he thought she was his possession. Not that that was all that different from how he had considered Irelyn herself as a child, but still. And now, today, they had something much worse planned than anything Irelyn had gone through. Between Aaron Banners and the filth who called himself Paige¡¯s real father, Irelyn wasn¡¯t completely sure which one she wanted to put her fist through more.


    No, no, she did know. It was Pittman. She definitely wanted to kill Pittman more. Though that didn¡¯t make her want to break her father¡¯s nose any less. And, more importantly, see him in prison for the deals he had made. He knew what he was doing. He wasn¡¯t tricked or coerced into this plan. At least, not the part he was aware of, which was bad enough all on its own. He had been tricked though. That was what part of today was about. He had no idea what was actually coming. In his mind, soon Paige would be his doll to shape and mold however he wanted. She wasn¡¯t a person to him, even less so than Irelyn had been. She was a tool to be used, a puppet whose strings he could play with to make her dance any way he wanted. He wanted a slave, not a child.


    Irelyn wasn¡¯t going to let that happen. And she wasn¡¯t going to let Pittman get his way either. Hard as it had been not to involve any outside help, she had promised Paige they could handle it themselves. The other girl was clearly terrified of what would happen if people in authority found out what she was. To say nothing of what Pittman would do, even from Breakwater. Not that Irelyn could blame her, really. But there would be time to deal with that later, time to figure out how to handle who should know about her and how to get Paige all the help she needed once this part was over.


    The guard by the gate had walked over to her car by that point, leaning down to get a look at her. ¡°Uh, Miss Banners, I really don¡¯t think this is the best time to--¡±


    ¡°Open the gate, Lou,¡± she interrupted in a tone that left absolutely no question or illusion about how badly it would go for him if he tried to deny her. ¡°I¡¯m going to see my sister for her birthday. And then my dad and I need to have a few words.¡±


    Clearly debating a bit with himself about how much he wanted to get involved in this whole situation, Lou finally exhaled before stepping over to the guard shack so he could reach in and hit the button to open the gate. As it smoothly swung open, he gave her a wave before dryly calling, ¡°Good luck, Miss. Feels like you might need it today.¡±


    Part of Irelyn wanted to question how much he knew about that. But she also didn¡¯t want to waste any more time, or give away that she might know more than she should. As it was, her appearance could be passed off as simply being prompted by her estranged family throwing a big party for her ¡®replacement¡¯s¡¯ seventeenth birthday. If the guards around here did know what was going on, there was no reason to make them too defensive just yet.


    It wasn¡¯t time for the party guests to start arriving. That wouldn¡¯t happen for a couple more hours. But there were several catering and party supply vans sitting out front, with crew and household staff alike carrying things around the house or inside. None of them paid any attention as Irelyn parked her car near the back of the line of vehicles and stepped out. Studying them for a moment, she tried to determine if any were actually Biolems. But it was impossible to tell like that. Which, of course, was one of the main points. You couldn¡¯t just look at them and tell the difference that easily.


    How could her father be so stupid? How could he think this was a good idea, that he could actually trust this Pittman asshole? How could he think he had any real control over this situation?


    Well, because he was just that arrogant. Irelyn really shouldn''t have been at all surprised by any of that. She knew who her father was, after all. She knew him better than most, having been on both the side of his love, or as close as he got to such, and that of his ire. She was his disowned daughter. And in his case, he took the owned part of that very seriously. Aaron Banners didn''t have loved ones, he had possessions, and those possessions had the best not do anything to make him or his family name look bad. That was just who he was, even at the best of times.


    And yet, this whole situation was even worse than she had thought he was capable of getting involved with. For all his many faults, she had assumed her father at least knew what the right side of the law was, and that he needed to stay there as much as possible. Or, failing that, he would know how dangerous being involved in something like this would be to his precious family name. Was he really counting on none of this ever getting out? Hell, before finding out the truth about all this, she would have hoped that he was a better person than this. Yes, she had her problems with his methods, but being a controlling dick who was obsessed with his legacy and threw his daughter out because she wouldn¡¯t let him dictate her life was one thing. Being willing to work with a convicted supervillain living on Breakwater to create an army of Biolems and replace that daughter with a version he could literally program to do anything he wanted was another. Was he really that far gone? Or had he always been that person and she had simply never, even after being disowned and cast aside, seen it?


    All of those were questions she was going to have to ask her father once this was over. Even if she had to do it while he was sitting in a prison cell. Because one way or another, Irelyn was going to make sure this was dealt with today. Paige wasn¡¯t spending another night in this house with someone who wanted to literally program her brain to enslave her. She was a person. An unconventional one, maybe, but still.


    With those thoughts running through her mind, Irelyn walked past the staff carrying boxes and trays, heading right in through the front door. If she knew her father at all, he would be upstairs in one of several offices he kept in the main building, obsessing over every minute detail of what was going to happen today. Hell, that¡¯s what he would¡¯ve been doing regardless, even if there weren¡¯t additional plans going on.


    One of the household staff, a maid who had been around since Irelyn was a little girl, tried to say something on her way past, but the woman simply greeted her by name and informed her that she didn¡¯t need anything right then, without even slowing down. She marched right up the stairs, turned at the second landing, and strode toward the office where she could already hear her father¡¯s voice. The way it was rising and falling, he was excited about something. Others might¡¯ve thought he was angry, given the repeated volume. But she knew better. When it rose and fell like that, he was almost beside himself with excitement. When he was angry, it went cold and quiet. He didn¡¯t get loud when he was mad, he deliberately made his voice so soft you could barely hear him. If his voice was projecting all the way down the hall like this, it had to be because he was practically giddy.


    And knowing what she did about what today was supposed to lead to, the idea of her father being so happy made Irelyn¡¯s jaw clench. A jolt of anger shot through her, and she had to pause for just a second to collect herself. Barging in there, forgetting the plan just so she could dress her father down and tell the man exactly what she thought of him in that moment, would have felt good right then, but it was a bad idea.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    So, she breathed in and out, listening to the tone of her father¡¯s voice. She couldn¡¯t make out the specific words from there, and his door was open so once she was close enough to hear details he¡¯d probably know she was there. The office was situated at the end of the hall, making it impossible to walk up alongside the door without being seen.


    But oh well, the plan depended on him knowing she was there. So, once she was certain she wouldn¡¯t blurt out anything briefly satisfying but overall detrimental, Irelyn walked right up to the open doorway and stared at her father. He was, indeed, on the phone, but had stopped talking when she came in view. His eyes narrowed, and he said something about calling the person back before disconnecting and putting the phone in his inside jacket pocket. All without breaking eye contact.


    Aaron Banners was not an immediately-impressive looking man. He was shorter than average, his face was quite ordinary (if rather young-looking considering he was in his fifties), and he was just a little bit overweight. In truth, the only thing that stood out about him was his hair. And even that wasn¡¯t real. The man would have been quite bald if it wasn¡¯t for a special hair growth formula he had paid quite a bit of money to patent and control. That hair was still as dark as it had been in his youth, and fell in slightly curly waves to his shoulders. He was very vain about that hair.


    ¡°Irelyn,¡± the man announced flatly, no emotion audible in that voice. ¡°I see you¡¯ve chosen to behave like a child once again. I know you have no respect for me or my work, but I would have thought you might at the very least show some common courtesy for your--¡± He paused, amending himself in mid-sentence. ¡°--for Paige on her birthday. Was it too much to ask for you to not make a scene today, of all days?¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, Irelyn made a point of gesturing around herself with both hands. ¡°Do you see anyone making a scene, Aaron?¡± She knew it rubbed him the wrong way when she used his first name. But that was his fault. He was the one who had decided he was no longer her father, after all. ¡°It¡¯s my sister¡¯s birthday, of course I¡¯m going to show up and see her.¡±


    For a second, it looked like the man was going to object to the term ¡®sister,¡¯ but he let it go. ¡°Fine,¡± he announced after brief consideration, ¡°let¡¯s go see her together. You can spend some time with her and then leave. The guest list for the party was finalized weeks ago. If you wanted to attend, you should have called earlier. But then, you were never one to think about how your actions affect others who put the actual work in.¡±


    ¡°Whoa, I¡¯ve only been here for thirty seconds,¡± Irelyn found herself coolly retorting. ¡°Pace yourself, at this rate you¡¯ll run out of ways to criticize me before I leave, and then how will we fill the time?¡± It was easier than she¡¯d thought it would be to sound calm in that moment. Possibly because she knew her father wanted her to lash out, and being calm in the face of his childish sniping was more rewarding than allowing herself to be goaded by it.


    After staring at her for a long few seconds while he clearly tried to decide exactly how he should react, Aaron forced his next words out in a brittle tone. ¡°You will not ruin this day for us. If that''s what you''ve come to do, you might as well leave now. But if you can manage to think about someone else for once, we can go see her and you can congratulate Paige.¡± With that, he strode forward, moving right past his estranged daughter as she stepped out of his way. He was a man who rarely encountered anyone who wouldn''t step aside as he marched through their space. In most cases, Irelyn would have challenged him more on that, or at least made a point of standing still until he recognized that she wasn''t simply jumping out of his way. But right now, the only thing that mattered was following him to Paige and getting on with this.


    Aaron said nothing to her as they moved through the house. He also said nothing to any of the staff they passed, though she had no real illusions about being on that same level in his eyes. Staff were useful. He had already decided she wasn¡¯t. Not anymore.


    Soon, they reached the top-most living area on the eastern wing. This was where Paige lived, because it had been where Irelyn lived. The girl had simply been put in her old rooms, as though it had been as simple as slotting her into Irelyn¡¯s old place in every way. Only now did the man address the nearby staff, ordering them to leave the hall. He didn¡¯t want anyone around to witness what he believed would be some sort of tantrum or other ¡®problem¡¯ created by the daughter he had already cast aside.


    Once the corridor was empty, Aaron walked right to the girl¡¯s bedroom door, and was about to announce his presence for the intercom when it abruptly opened. Instead of his new daughter, the man was facing his wife. Both looked surprised to see one another.


    ¡°Aaron?¡± Constance Banners, a tall, red-haired woman with a surprisingly kind-looking face given her general disregard for such frivolities, stared that way. She was clearly confused about his presence. ¡°What are y--¡± Her words were abruptly interrupted, as a hand snaked around her from behind to hold a soaked cloth to her face.


    Just as Aaron reacted to that and reached out, Irelyn produced her own soaked cloth and covered his face as well. Soon, both the matriarch and patriarch of the Banners were unconscious. Irelyn and Paige looked around their respective targets, met one another¡¯s gazes, then quickly pulled the two into the bedroom.


    The two of them worked swiftly, binding the so-called parents and removing all of their tools and communication devices. Not just their phones, but the emergency alerts they both had several of. Aaron Banners was nothing if not paranoid about his enemies. Fortunately, the two of them knew about all his signal devices. Soon, the man and his wife were secured inside one of Paige¡¯s closets. They both began to wake up then, focusing on the figures in front of them. Immediately, Aaron and Constance began to bellow their annoyance and anger about the situation, demanding to know what was going on in between shouting for assistance. Which, of course, included attempting to activate the intercom.


    ¡°That won¡¯t work,¡± Paige informed them coldly. ¡°I disabled the system already.¡±


    ¡°And you made sure this room was completely soundproof a long time ago,¡± Irelyn added. ¡°After all, you couldn¡¯t allow the sound of anything either of us were doing in here to escape out into the rest of the house. Our music, our shows, the way we played, that was all safely locked up in here where we couldn¡¯t bother anyone.¡±


    Constance¡¯s pretty face scrunched up a bit in annoyance before she forced out, ¡°Irelyn, listen to your father and me. Whatever game this is, you don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing. If you want some of your inheritance back, or--¡±


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry, I know exactly what I¡¯m doing,¡± Irelyn interrupted. ¡°I know what¡¯s going on, what you two are responsible for and who you¡¯re working with.¡±


    ¡°She knows what I am,¡± Paige put in. ¡°And we¡¯re not going to let it happen. Believe it or not, we are helping you.¡±


    Irelyn gave a short nod. ¡°She¡¯s right. You two were supposed to disappear in about twenty minutes. They¡¯re already working on replacing the rest of the staff with Biolems.¡±


    ¡°What are you babbling about?¡± Aaron demanded angrily. ¡°There are no other Biolems--you don¡¯t even know--we are partners with Pittman, you small-minded, arrogant, immature--¡±


    Again, Irelyn interrupted. ¡°You know what the benefit of not caring what you think anymore is? I can do this.¡± Without another word, she closed the closet door and turned to look at the other girl. ¡°You can seal this room?¡±


    Paige nodded. ¡°I can scramble the lock and make sure no one gets in. At least, not easily. They¡¯d have to break the door down and that¡¯d take time with the steel lining there and in the walls. Every room in this house is like a minor panic room.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, and the actual panic room is like Fort Knox,¡± Irelyn agreed. ¡°Anyway, they¡¯re safe now and we can deal with them later. You still can¡¯t tell me anything else about what Pittman wants you to do today?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± came the soft response. ¡°All I can do is talk around it and tell you to be ready. The party has to happen and all the guests have to come. And I can¡¯t do anything about the other Biolems, not yet.¡±


    Irelyn offered her a faint smile. ¡°Fortunately, I can. Okay, you do what you need to do to make sure everything¡¯s set up for the guests. I¡¯ll start working on the Biolems and spread the word about Aaron and Constance leaving. With any luck, whoever¡¯s running point for Pittman will think they figured out they were being targeted and made a run for it. As soon as you do¡­ whatever it is you need to do, we¡¯ll go from there.¡±


    She started to turn away, only to stop as Paige caught her arm. The younger girl seemed awkward in that moment. ¡°I--thanks. Thank you. I didn¡¯t think there was anyone who could help me deal with this. I wasn¡¯t¡­ I wasn¡¯t planning on getting out of this tonight.¡±


    Putting her own hand over Paige¡¯s, Irelyn met her gaze. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re not alone. Not anymore. You¡¯re my sister.


    ¡°Now let¡¯s get through this together, so we can make sure all of our piece of shit parents end up or stay exactly where they belong.¡±


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 Acceptance 29-15

    To my immense relief, That-A-Way managed to come up with an excuse for me to check on my parents, or at least look in on them. She sent me into their area supposedly just to make sure there were no bad surprises hiding back there (or in any of the other rooms) that had been missed. Of course, others had already been back there to check multiple times, but as she put it, fresh eyes never hurt. She also said something about me having a way of finding trouble so I might as well get it over with, which I thought was unfair. But in any case, I was able to go through the viewing room and take a peek. As promised, my mom and dad were both still there, with nothing changed. They were still out of it. At this point, they were each conscious and rambling about a mix of dream and half-remembered movie reality. But I still felt a wave of relief wash over me as I stood there for just a moment to take that in.


    Obviously, I figured any doctors who worked with them had to be connected to the Ministry, just in case they happen to say something they shouldn''t. There was no way the people who were still in charge would take that sort of risk. Which made me wonder just what they would¡¯ve done if my parents had said something incriminating while Izzy or I were watching. Did they think we¡¯d pass it off as just nonsense or simply not understand the significance? Or did they have Kent ready to erase anything like that? Would he do that without my parents¡¯ say-so? Was that why he had been nearby enough for me to run into him the other day? Or was I just being paranoid?


    Either way, that was why I really wasn''t surprised when I¡¯d only been standing there for a few seconds before one of the doctors, a tall, and somewhat heavyset bald black man in his fifties, poked his head in and spoke up. ¡°Believe me, we''ve been over this one with a fine-tooth comb. You won''t find anything untoward in here. Not with access as strict as it is.¡±


    It took me a second to school myself so I wouldn''t snap at him about tearing me away from my parents when I¡¯d only just barely been able to see them. But I managed to pivot on my heel and reply, ¡°Yeah, you''re probably right. We''re just being super-cautious. You know how it is.¡± Obviously he did, given there was no way he didn¡¯t have direct connections to the Ministry. I was going to remember his face and name. Doctor Duncan, according to the tag on his coat. Well, Doctor Duncan, I was definitely going to dig into your history as soon as I had a minute.


    ¡°Not nearly as much as you do, I¡¯m afraid,¡± was his easy response before he paused, seeming to consider those words with a sigh. ¡°And what a shame it is that you do. That--what they said about you being the one who brought Pencil in¡­ did you really¡­ I mean, you fought him? Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°You know how they say you should see the other guy?¡± I gestured past him, back out toward the main room. ¡°Well, you can. He took the worst of it.¡± Unfortunately, even as I said that, my shoulder throbbed with pain.


    The doctor noticed immediately and took a step toward me, hand raised. But he must¡¯ve seen the way I reflexively drew back, because he stopped. ¡°The wound,¡± he asked pointedly, ¡°what is it?¡±


    I hesitated before admitting, ¡°Pencil cut me. It¡¯s not super-deep, but he drew blood.¡±


    With the speed and grace of a magician, Dr. Duncan produced a plastic-wrapped bandage. ¡°Use the restroom out there. Wash the blood off, then open this and peel the backing of it. Hold the sticky side against the wound for five seconds before letting go. It¡¯ll sanitize and medicate the wound. Don¡¯t take it off for a couple days.¡±


    Accepting the bandage, I nodded. ¡°Thanks. And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m still standing, that¡¯s what matters in the end.¡±


    For a moment, it looked like the man might want to say something else about it. But in the end, he just gave a slight nod. ¡°That is important, yes. But if there''s anything I can do to help sort you out before anything else happens, we owe you the very best of care. Well, we owe you so much more than that, but care is all I have on me, I¡¯m afraid.¡± That was accompanied by a very faint, humorless smile.


    Maybe it was unfair, but I almost felt like saying I''d sooner have Pencil examine me than him. Yeah, that was obviously my annoyance about him stopping me from spending more time with my parents talking and I quickly shoved down the thought, glad for approximately the four thousand three hundred and twentieth time that my mask and helmet hid my facial expressions. My voice even managed to sound relatively normal, with any stress hopefully attributed to the overall situation. ¡°Thanks, but really, I¡¯m okay. You¡¯ve got plenty of patients already, and important ones from the look of it.¡± My hand waved vaguely back toward my parents. ¡°If you say things are good in here, I¡¯ll check a bit further down. And when things do kick off¡­ keep your head down, okay Doctor?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take care of my patients,¡± he informed me. ¡°And trust you and the others to take care of us.¡± Another pause, then, ¡°I¡¯m so very sorry that I have to say that to a boy your age. It¡¯s unfair. A lot of this is unfair. You shouldn¡¯t be here. You should be home playing video games or sleeping, not--¡± He stopped himself, grimacing. ¡°You don¡¯t want to hear me go on about this. Especially not right now. But¡­ Paintball, do be careful out there. Believe it or not, whoever you may be, your life matters. Don¡¯t throw it away trying to save everyone else. Watch yourself, watch your back. Don¡¯t take unnecessary risks.¡± His smile was a mix of rueful and pained along with actual gratitude. ¡°You''ve done far more than enough as it is. Just¡­ take care of yourself too. And put that bandage on. You matter.¡±


    Well, what was I supposed to say to that? How was I supposed to react to it? Besides the feeling of guilt that ran through me for all the anger that I¡¯d felt about him interrupting me even though he couldn''t have known who I was. Of course, I also felt a separate wave of suspicion that he was deliberately saying these things to manipulate me, given his obvious Ministry ties. And that was followed by even more guilt for that suspicion. Not that it disappeared. It was all complicated, and far more than I wanted to devote any attention to. Instead, I forced myself to respond as casually as possible. ¡°I think everyone in here matters, Doctor. Let''s just hope we all survive.¡±


    His head bowed in acknowledgment to that. ¡°Indeed. And while we have the chance before chaos returns, I''d like to check on my patients, if you don''t mind.¡±


    So, with one last glance over my shoulder to see my parents still wandering around their room acting out scenes from some movie or another, I pivoted to walk out. If it had been hard to respond to the man before, making myself casually walk out of that room as though the two in there were nothing more than a faint curiosity was even worse. That was my mom and dad, and given the situation and what I had just been through with Pencil, what I really wanted to do was throw open the other door and rush in to embrace them. I knew it wouldn''t work like that. Of course I knew that. Going in there would end up with me either infected or at least quarantined. There was absolutely no way I could get away with going in that room. It would be the end of everything I had been doing. And yet, some part of me didn''t care about any of those details. I just wanted to hug my mom and dad. Stupid as it was, the thought lingered in my head while I gave the doctor another nod and stepped back out into the hall.


    I had looked in on them, had managed to see for myself that they were okay. Or at least as okay as they could be under the circumstances. That was going to have to be enough for now. Once we got through this, I would see them again as myself.


    Finding the restroom the doctor had pointed out, I beckoned Paige to come help. There was a twofold reason for that. First, I had her help me check for any cameras, just in case. I really didn¡¯t think there would be any, but still. Once we were both certain it was clear, I had her check the bandage itself. She looked it over, assuring me there was nothing untoward in it. Then she helped me get my costume open, both of us grimacing at the cut in it before putting the bandage on. Paige helped me position it properly, sealing the bandage in place before zipping the suit back up. Then she embraced me once more, making me promise to take it easy before we went back out.


    Quickly taking a look through the other rooms, aside from the ones the doctors insisted I couldn''t step inside because they were protecting secret identities (like Flea/Irelyn and Trivial), I made my way back to the main room with Paige. They had stacked up a few more chairs and tables as blockades by both entrances, the one leading from the main hall, and the back stairwell. Calvin and Hobbes were with a few security guards along with a couple of the Syndicates and Carousel watching those back stairs, while Style and Alloy were with That-A-Way, Raindrop, Wobble, and the other two Syndicates at the front. Paige immediately went off to join that group as well, since it was where we expected the most trouble to come from. After all, the stairwell was a chokepoint. They had to come up only a couple at a time, and turn the corner on the landing below. They would be sitting ducks. But the main hall was open enough for several of them to rush forward together. That was where we needed to concentrate our defenses.


    Meanwhile, Qwerty, Trevithick, and that Fragile girl were sitting together off to one side, deep in conversation while the Tech-Touched girl quickly dismantled that big rifle she had been carrying around. I hadn''t seen it in action myself, but from what the others had said, the beam it shot out slowed down anyone it struck. Sort of like my yellow paint, but even stronger. They moved at about one-fourth of their usual speed. She was able to use that to give others a much easier time. Now she was taking it apart and doing something with a few tools taken from her pocket, apparently under Qwerty¡¯s direction while Fragile watched with interest.


    Pencil, of course, was the most important target in here. Those minions of his were going to do everything in their power to get in and free him. After everything that happened, every murder he was responsible for, we couldn''t allow that. This was the best, possibly only chance to actually put that piece of shit in prison where he belonged. Besides, even if we gave him back to them, it wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d stop. That wasn¡¯t the Scions'' way. If they freed him, they¡¯d still kill everyone else in here. Not only because that was the sort of thing they did, but also because they wouldn¡¯t stand for the insult. We had imprisoned him. If he¡¯d been telling the truth about having some sort of video transmission of our fight, everyone had seen him lose. They wouldn¡¯t stand for that. They couldn¡¯t stand for it and maintain their reputation. They¡¯d kill everyone.


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    Some part of me briefly wondered if it might be worth it to lure those guys out of the hospital by getting them to chase me. But I didn''t think enough would come. Not when they were actually after Pencil, and it wasn''t like I could take him with me and get very far. Besides, the very instant I brought up any such idea, every member of my team would have taken turns smacking me. Even Trevithick and Qwerty. It wouldn''t have gone over very well. Not that I could blame them, if I thought about how I would react to anyone else coming up with such an idea. No, we had to sit tight here.


    And speaking of sitting tight, a glance toward Pencil showed that he was very much secure, at least for the moment. Someone had found much stronger tape than the scotch version I used, some sort of surgical stuff that kept his fingers straight and separated. He was gagged more securely as well, using gauze and more tape. His wrists were still secured by stay-down cuffs, and someone had added another set to his ankles just in case, while leaving the cloth tying them together as well. The toes of his bare feet were also still taped up, and someone had even used some cord to tie his legs and arms yet again to be triple-sure he wouldn¡¯t be able to get free. He was awake, eyes shifting around from his prone position, but he couldn''t say anything or move more than a slight wiggle. And three of the nurses were watching him intently, each holding a gun they had taken from somewhere. From the look on their faces, none of them would mind violating any sort of medical oath (if such would even apply here) if Pencil looked like he was about to squirm his way free. Which the man himself seemed to understand, given how little he was moving. He saw me staring at him then, eyes narrowing. Yeah, if looks could kill, I would probably be a smoldering puddle on the floor. He was not very happy with me. Good, I wasn¡¯t exactly delighted by his existence either. Though I was positively tickled by his current predicament. Assuming we survived this whole thing long enough for the reinforcements to finish securing the building and he actually ended up being put where he belonged, this whole thing might have been worth it in the end. Or so I kept telling myself while pointedly looking away from the man so I could walk up to where Poise had just joined Style, Alloy, That-A-Way, Raindrop, Wobble, and those two Syndicates. ¡°See anything yet?¡±


    Sierra answered without turning around. ¡°A couple of them poked their heads out down at the far end, but we dissuaded them from that.¡±


    One of the translucent Syndicates nodded. ¡°I think they''re waiting to have the numbers they need. They''ve already taken out all the cameras in the area, so we can''t keep an eye on them that way. And¡­ and from the calls we¡¯re picking up from cops downstairs, we¡¯re not about to have backup anytime soon.¡±


    Amber muttered softly, ¡°They¡¯re doing their best, but apparently the Scions put down traps, drones, poison gas, all sorts of shit. Anything to slow them down and keep them occupied long enough to get up here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I murmured, turning to glance over my shoulder back at Pencil. ¡°They¡¯re pretty motivated right now.¡± A sigh escaped me. ¡°And now this place is their primary target.¡±


    ¡°They would¡¯ve been coming up here anyway, whether you brought that fucker or not,¡± Alloy reminded me.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Wobble put in, ¡°So don¡¯t be an idiot and start thinking you did anything wrong.¡±


    Beside him, Raindrop piped up, ¡°Yeah, you did the right thing. You made sure they couldn¡¯t just get him right back again.¡±


    Sounding like he wasn¡¯t even sure if he should be speaking up or not, one of the guards, who had been intently watching the hallway ahead, hesitantly agreed. ¡°We were already in trouble, Paintball. Maybe having Pencil here, and vulnerable, will make them hesitate? They can¡¯t just throw bombs down here or anything.¡± He visibly winced at the very suggestion. ¡°... right?¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± I agreed. ¡°That¡¯s a fair point, actually. They don¡¯t know where in here he is, or how vulnerable he actually is now that we¡¯ve secured him. So maybe they¡¯ll have to hold off on any of the nastiest stuff.¡±


    That was one thing to hope for, at least. We needed any help we could get from the sound of things. I still couldn''t believe Caishen and the others hadn''t managed to secure the building enough yet to reach us. Well, yes, I could believe it. The Scions were incredibly nasty, and they had clearly been planning this for a long time. Of course they had the weapons and traps they needed to stop reinforcements from easily getting in here. But still, I didn''t have to like it.


    What I did do, however, was start covering all of my teammates as well as the security guards with various colors of paint. Mostly orange for protection, that was where I put the majority of my resources. The longer everyone here could stand up against any of the damage those evil bastards sent at us, the better off we''d be.


    The regular security people were curious about the paint, to say the least. They had the general idea, but I had to tell them that it would only activate when I willed it to. I told them that if they were in trouble and needed help, to shout ¡®orange¡¯ and I would look that way to turn it on for them. That was the best system I could come up with on short notice.


    The fact that I even had time to paint everyone that much worried me. Yes, maybe it was dumb to look a gift horse in the mouth when it came to the situation, but seriously, why hadn''t they attacked yet? What were they waiting for? The longer this went on, the more likely we were to get help. Waiting was just helping us. Were they playing games and giving us a false sense of hope? I wouldn''t put it past him. A glance toward Pencil wasn''t very illuminating. He just stared back at me silently, expression unreadable aside from the hate in his eyes.


    I did check on what Trevithick, Qwerty, and Fragile were up to once it was as clear as it could be that we weren''t about to be under siege in the next couple seconds. ¡°Hey guys, building anything fun?¡± I was doing my level best to sound as casual as possible, even though what I really wanted to do was fall down in my bed and sleep for about three days.


    Wren immediately hopped up, showing me her rifle. Her voice was bright and chipper. ¡°Qwerty made it better! Now it can slow people down even more, or even speed them up! And it doesn''t take as much power, so it''ll work longer.¡± She hesitated then, fidgeting with the gun before focusing on me. ¡°Are we going to be okay?¡±


    Qwerty hopped onto her shoulder before staring at me with the same question in his eyes. And seeing that, realizing how scared the two of them were, I felt even worse about this whole thing. ¡°Don''t worry,¡± I forced myself to say. ¡°You guys just stay over here, and we''ll deal with whatever comes down that hall. We''ve got this.¡±


    ¡°He does!¡± That was Fragile, the glass girl popping up behind Wren to whisper something in her ear, which made all three of them, Qwerty included, giggle. Apparently they were already getting along pretty well. Then she focused on me. ¡°He¡¯s Paintball, he saves people.¡±


    There was more behind her words, a lot more. It seemed like she wanted to say something else but stopped herself. And before I could respond, she had already darted off to join the people at the back stairs.


    Wren insisted I take the upgraded gun and give it to one of the others to use. I was in the middle of heading over to do that when a shout went up that made me spin around and dash back to the front. Sure enough, Cup was standing there right in the middle of the front hall. Yes, Cup. She was awake, completely unmasked and undisguised, and had her empty hands raised. Seeing us staring, she waved and called out, ¡°I just want to talk, I don''t want to hurt any of you, or any of your patients. Pinky swear. Besides, you''ve got all the guns, and my power only works on one person at a time.¡±


    ¡°You really expect us to be stupid enough to let you anywhere near us?!¡± Wobble called out with what was probably a look of disbelief toward the rest of us. Not that we could see his face, but the body language said enough.


    At the same time, one of the Syndicates was murmuring that he¡¯d told his other selves to keep the people by the rear stairwell in position and alert, just in case this was a distraction.


    ¡°Well, you don¡¯t have to,¡± Cup replied while keeping her hands raised, ¡°but either you let me come talk to you and see my brother, or you can fight all my friends back there. I promise, they¡¯re very eager to come say hi. You really don¡¯t have anything to lose. You know I can¡¯t teleport out of the building.¡± She paused for a moment before adding, ¡°Look, I¡¯d swear on something more effective than my pinkie, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯d care. Just look at it this way, you can either let me come in, which gives your friends downstairs more time to get up here, or I can step aside and let my friends charge in so you get to fight after all.¡±


    I really didn''t believe she didn''t mean anyone any harm, or that she couldn''t have some pretty nasty tricks. But she was right about stalling working in our favor, so I shrugged at the others. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Raindrop hesitantly offered, ¡°If she comes in she can be a prisoner too. That might make the other Scions stop, if they lose both their leaders.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust it,¡± Way noted, ¡°she¡¯s up to something.¡±


    ¡°Oh she¡¯s definitely up to something,¡± Wobble agreed, ¡°but if we don¡¯t let her come in, I think it¡¯ll be worse.¡±


    We debated for another few seconds, before settling on the only real choice there was. Syndicate held his hand out that way and called, ¡°You can come in, but one wrong move, and you''ll be in the same position as your brother!¡±


    As she slowly made her way forward, I looked that way. And for once, I saw confusion and disbelief on his face. He was just as baffled as we were about why she was here, or even how she was awake. I wondered if they had made up the entire thing about her being infected, but apparently not. So had they found a cure or something? I was so lost.


    Cup came right past the guards as they moved the barriers, keeping her hands raised while everyone stared at her, weapons ready. Her eyes shifted around to look at all of us with a faint smile before settling on me. ¡°I didn''t expect you to win that fight, Paintball.¡± She actually sounded impressed rather than angry, which was even more strange. All of this was strange. What the hell was going on?


    ¡°If you''re here to say you''ll let everyone go in exchange for releasing your brother--¡± I started, figuring that¡¯s what her angle had to be.


    Cup, however, interrupted. ¡°Now why would I want you to go and do that when I worked so hard to manipulate him into giving up all his defenses and trapping himself so he¡¯d finally be vulnerable?¡±


    Everyone in the room, including Pencil himself, barely had time to process what she was saying before her hand moved. Faster than anyone could react, a gun appeared there and she fired. But she wasn''t shooting me, or any of my team, or any of the doctors. She fired once, and a single hole appeared in the center of her brother¡¯s forehead before he collapsed.


    Pencil was dead. Killed by Cup.

 Acceptance 29-16

    I was honestly pretty certain that if Cup had pointed that gun at anyone else in the room, we all would have been ready for it. We were poised to jump in, prepared to stop her by any means necessary. But because she pointed it at the last possible person we ever would have expected, it took all of us by surprise. No one knew what to do in that instant. And by the time we actually processed that she really was pointing the gun at her own brother, it was over. The man¡¯s body had slumped over, lifeless against the ground. His sightless eyes seemed to stare in continued shock, as the very last thing he had seen was the only person he actually cared about preparing to kill him.


    Then the shock had passed, and the girl, who was still standing there with the gun extended, was hit from six different attacks. A chair was sent flying at her from Carousel, two of the security guards shot her with their actual guns, Murphy/Hobbes tried to grab her with the tether-line from her own rifle, and both Poise and Style shot her with guns they had acquired from somewhere. Six attacks, and none actually accomplished anything. They bounced off an energy shield, which flickered into view around the girl under the assault before fading away again. But it was still there.


    ¡°Oh please,¡± Cup casually retorted while lowering the gun. ¡°As if I¡¯d let you all take me out in my moment of victory. Can¡¯t you just let me savor this for a second? You have no idea how long I¡¯ve been looking for a way to get out from under his thumb so I could strike out on my own, seriously. You think you had it bad, try being the one who had to fuck him and pretend you enjoyed it for years. No, really, maybe I could build a time machine and we could all swap places a time or two so you know what it¡¯s like.¡±


    ¡°If there¡¯s an unsubscribe from this diatribe,¡± Carousel put in a bit weakly, already pointedly putting herself directly in front of the spot where Wren and Qwerty were still crouched together, ¡°I¡¯d like to click, before I get sick.¡±


    ¡°What she said,¡± the Syndicate who was physical at the moment agreed. He held some sort of taser baton similar to what I¡¯d seen Way use before. ¡°Why the hell would you--that was--he was your--why?¡± He might¡¯ve found his voice (which was more than I could say), but he was still staggered and baffled by this whole situation.


    ¡°Yeah, why the fuck would you do that?!¡± That was one of the doctors, of all people. He had rushed forward at the sound of the gunshot, his training apparently overriding common sense, only to stop when he saw that it was clearly too late. ¡°You--you killed your own brother. He was--why?¡±


    Visibly rolling her eyes, the blonde woman shot all of us a disbelieving look. ¡°He was the bad guy, wasn¡¯t he? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re not all glad he¡¯s gone. Look at all the evil stuff he did! He was a monster and you know it. You¡¯re all happy he¡¯s dead, you¡¯re just disappointed that you didn¡¯t get to be the one who did it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a monster too!¡± Alloy was the one who blurted that, pointing with a shaking hand. ¡°You--you were right there with him the whole time! You did everything he did, he was your--you two were--you¡¯re just like him!¡±


    Cup, however, sent her a small smile. ¡°Only because he made me. I was what he turned me into. And I was¡­ scared.¡± Her tone abruptly and unexpectedly shifted to that of a terrified little girl on the verge of tears. ¡°I¡­ had to do everything he said. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m so sorry. I didn¡¯t have a choice. He made me do what he wanted. He hurt me, I didn¡¯t want to. All those people, all those innocent, adorable puppies and children and-- you know, all that.¡± Just as suddenly, her tone had completely shifted once more, back to the almost bored tone. ¡°And now he¡¯s gone, so he can¡¯t hurt me anymore. Or anyone. Who wants to have a party? Oh wait, I almost forgot. Ahem.¡± Raising her hand, she showed us the watch she was wearing, before dramatically pressing a button on it. All of us collectively flinched, and I even moved to jump in front of Raindrop reflexively. But before I could move, before any of us could do anything, she finished pressing that button and¡­ nothing happened.


    At least, nothing we could see. But within just a few seconds, while Cup was lowering her hands, the door burst open and Caishen came rushing in, accompanied by several armed Towers security guards, a couple SWAT cops, and Rubi in her simple ski mask.


    ¡°Down!¡± Caishen demanded at the first sight of Cup standing there. Her hand rose, some sort of blade held there and ready to throw. ¡°Get down on the--¡±


    ¡°I surrender.¡± With those two simple words, Cup dropped the gun, smiled, and turned to face the Ten Towers leader while going down to her knees with her hands interlocked behind her head. ¡°But tell me--I mean tell them how you got past all those nasty, nasty boys all of a sudden.¡±


    ¡°They fell down,¡± Rubi replied, her eyes clearly darting toward Murphy and Roald before she turned back again. ¡°They all just fell down.¡±


    Still smiling, or rather, smirking, Cup nodded and used one finger to point at her watch. ¡°Electric shock right into the brain, through their communication earpieces. So important to stay in contact, you know. Knocks them right out so you can parade them in front of the cameras and straight to jail. The Scions are over. You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re welcome?¡± Caishen demanded, already taking a couple steps forward. That brought her close enough to see the body laying behind Cup, and she stopped short, a strangled curse escaping her.


    ¡°Oh yeah, you¡¯re welcome for that too,¡± the kneeling blonde psychopath added with that same careless smirk. ¡°I¡¯m a real hero, I am.


    ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll give me a medal?¡±


    ********


    ¡°It¡¯s a trick, right?¡± Rubi immediately put in a few minutes later as she, Caishen, Wobble, and I stood to one side. Cup had been searched, disarmed of anything that they could find, then secured with Stay-Down cuffs and a gag, all of which she willingly accepted. No, not just willingly. She accepted them with an air of amusement. Now she was sitting on the floor surrounded by armed cops and the rest of our groups, while other authorities made certain the building was secure and checked over the medical people. Those same doctors and nurses were about to be relieved by the next shift, who were being checked over and cleared right at that moment so they could come up to check on the thankfully still-safe patients and let those who had been through all this go home.


    In all, it could have been so much worse. But still, we had no idea what other traps and tricks the Scions might have in store, so the building was being scoured from top to bottom. And, of course, there was the big thing right here that was absolutely going to cause a huge incident as soon as word got out. Pencil¡¯s body¡­ and his killer.


    Rubi shot a glance that way before continuing. ¡°He¡¯s not really dead. They fooled everyone or something. It¡¯s a fake body, or, or¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really him,¡± I put in. ¡°Trust me, I just¡­ I fought him, I secured him and dragged him up here myself. He didn¡¯t move from that spot. And when she came in, when he saw her point the gun at him, he didn¡¯t--¡± I swallowed hard. ¡°Just trust me, it¡¯s really him.¡±


    ¡°Instead of rescuing her brother, she shot him in the head?¡± Rubi blurted that in a low hiss.


    My head shook. ¡°Not just him. The dead Scions out in the hall when we first made it in here, she killed them too, before they could get to the VIP area. Pencil found them like that just before he heard us show up. But she was the one who killed them.¡±


    ¡°Why the hell would she do that? I don''t get it. What''s her game?¡±


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    ¡°Immunity,¡± Caishen replied in a flat, humorous voice. ¡°She''s claiming that she was coerced into everything she did by her brother. She says he controlled her, made her act that way and that he constantly assaulted her for years. She says she was terrified of him and what he was capable of. According to her, she set up this elaborate scenario, even pretended to be infected by the Sleeptalk, specifically to expose him and wear him down so he could be stopped. And that little trick she pulled with knocking out all the Scions who were still on their feet so we could get in here, that extended through their Touched too. Most of them, anyway. As far as we can tell, the only one still out there somewhere is Shovel, the TONI dog. She claims she has no idea where he is. Either way, she says everything she did was under duress.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s completely absurd!¡± I hissed under my breath, not wanting to draw too much attention. More than we already had, anyway. ¡°There''s no way she wasn''t fully in on all of that stuff. She''s lying her ass off right now. She''s making all that up.¡±


    Caishen nodded once. ¡°She is. But the issue isn¡¯t whether or not we believe her. It¡¯s about whether it''s a story she can sell to any potential jury. Everyone knows Pencil was the leader. He was the worst one. Like it or not, she killed him, and by the law, she was legally allowed to. Anyone would have been. He was fair game.¡±


    ¡°So is she,¡± Wobble pointed out a bit darkly. ¡°She has the same legal order he did. You know, because she did all the same horrible things.¡±


    ¡°Yes, she did,¡± Caishen agreed. ¡°And yet, there are plenty of people who will believe she was forced into it and that this situation was her desperate attempt to get out. She''s a pretty young woman, a very pretty young white girl with blonde hair. Do you really think if she bats those eyes and cries a little at a jury that she can''t get enough to at least avoid a conviction? She¡¯ll have reasonable doubt in a second. Especially when her lawyer brings up that she helped stop the rest of the gang. We¡¯ll take her in, obviously. But I¡¯m telling you right now, she¡¯s set this escape hatch up well. Not to convince us. That was never the point. But all she has to do is convince a jury she wasn¡¯t responsible for everything she did, or the DA that trying to convict her is a waste of time. My guess is they¡¯ll offer her a sweetheart deal and keep her in protective custody for the rest of her life. Or, you know, until she gets bored and escapes.¡±


    ¡°And kills someone else,¡± I put in. ¡°Wait, who am I kidding? She¡¯ll kill a lot of people.¡±


    Wobble sounded as angry as I felt. ¡°You¡¯re talking about her cooling her heels in some luxury hotel or something with a couple guards watching over her instead of going to Breakwater where she belongs.¡±


    Caishen gave him a look. ¡°Can you imagine a prosecutor trying to sell that to the jury? Telling them to send this poor, beautiful little girl who just fought tooth and nail to escape literal years of incestuous abuse from her psychotic brother to an island full of more psychopaths to abuse her? There isn¡¯t a lawyer in this entire goddamn world who would willingly volunteer for that case. Her own counsel would have a field day with it.¡±


    ¡°What about--there¡¯s truth-compelling powers out there, aren¡¯t there?¡± Rubi put in. ¡°I know there¡¯s at least a couple working in the justice system. This seems like a good chance to bring them to Detroit, even if we have to wait until the lockdown is over. They can get to the bottom of this.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Caishen agreed. ¡°But she knows those people exist too. She would¡¯ve taken them into account before coming up with this. I wouldn¡¯t count on it working that easily, not with her being Tech-Touched herself. She could¡¯ve done something to prepare for being forced to tell the truth.¡±


    ¡°This is--god damn it,¡± I found myself muttering, making all three of them look at me. Which seemed to snap Caishen out of her focus on Cup. Or Amanda, whatever. Either way, she gestured to me. ¡°You need to have a doctor look at that shoulder. I saw what happened, it looked pretty deep.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Paige immediately put in while stepping beside me, ¡°One of the doctors here put a med-badge on it. And I¡¯ve got training with that sort of thing. We¡¯ll take care of him.¡± Her voice hardened a bit. ¡°And make sure he doesn¡¯t get into any more fights for a good long while. Even if we have to lock him in a closet.¡±


    I kind of wanted to object to that whole thing, but I wasn¡¯t sure how I was supposed to after everything that happened. Still, I managed at least a slightly weak, ¡°Hey.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡± Caishen looked at me, then gestured. ¡°Come here for a minute, would you? I think we need to have a conversation before you leave. It¡¯ll be a short one, I promise.¡±


    Paige gave me a look that clearly said she was ready and willing to punch the Ten Towers leader if I wanted her to so I could get out of there sooner, but I shook my head at her and stepped over to the corner out of everyone¡¯s way before turning to the woman. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me you have another supervillain who needs my foot in his ass.¡± I tried to make it sound glib, but she probably heard the exhaustion in my voice.


    For a moment, Caishen didn¡¯t say anything. She just stared down at me, clearly trying to find the right words. ¡°You¡­ God, you are a remarkable boy, Paintball. I can¡¯t even begin to tell you how amazing what you¡¯ve done is. Pencil. You stopped Pencil.¡±


    ¡°I think that was more Cup, apparently,¡± I pointed out flatly. ¡°Since it was all her plan, and we just played right into it to give her everything she wanted from the start.¡±


    ¡°Hey, stop that.¡± Caishen pointed at me. ¡°Whether she intended this or not, that doesn¡¯t make Pencil any less of a threat. Whatever she did before or after, you¡¯re the one who fought him and beat him. I saw enough of the live stream they put out, I know what you--you beat him, Paintball. You stopped him from being a threat. Even if she hadn¡¯t killed him, you had him in custody. You secured him and made sure he wouldn¡¯t be out on the streets hurting or killing anyone else. Don¡¯t let her take that away from you.¡±


    Swallowing, I looked down for a moment before raising my gaze to meet hers. ¡°To be honest, I mostly just want to lay down for awhile. It hasn¡¯t sunk in yet, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Understandable, you¡¯ve been through a lot.¡± With that, Caishen seemed to consider her next words carefully. ¡°I¡¯m not exaggerating when I say this is going to change a lot. Maybe everything. People saw you fight Pencil. They saw what you did, how you beat him. That video is already making the rounds. It¡¯s going to make you even more famous than you already were. And infamous. It¡¯ll make you as much of a target as it does an inspiration. The right people will love you and the wrong people will hate you. I¡¯ve said it before, but I mean it now more than ever. Be careful out there. Watch your back, call for help when you need it. Keep your friends, your team, aware of where you are when you¡¯re out in costume, and protect your identity. There¡¯s going to be bad people gunning for you to make a name for themselves, Paintball. You¡¯re the big man on campus now. Or at least one of them. People who want to prove they¡¯re tough and dangerous are going to target you. So like I said, watch yourself and don¡¯t make it easy for them, okay?¡±


    She had a point, obviously. I didn¡¯t even want to think about it, especially not right now, but yeah. People were going to be paying even more attention to me. To say nothing of how the next conversation with the Ministry was gonna go. Something told me that was absolutely going to be a big one, whether it came before or after my parents were back to normal. Which, naturally, was a thought that reminded me of just how close they were right now. But I stopped myself from even glancing toward their room and kept my focus on the woman in front of me. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful,¡± I promised. ¡°We all will.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I could tell she was smiling then, as she gently took both of my hands. ¡°But listen to something else. I meant what I said before. You are amazing. You did an incredible thing. No matter what Cup did with it later, or what she might have planned, or how any of that goes, don¡¯t let that get lost in the noise. You stopped Pencil, and you deserve every accolade that comes with that. Including the reward. Which they will absolutely not give to that psychopath over there, regardless of any other deals she makes. You stopped him, you¡¯ll get the reward. And--well, a lot of questions too. Sorry, but you¡¯re gonna have to tell your story, everything that happened, a few more times. But I¡¯ll try to cut down on that as much as possible, and we¡¯ll wait. Go and get some sleep, come to terms with what happened, and decompress with your team. I¡¯ll give you a call sometime tomo--no, in two days. I want you to take all of tomorrow off, you hear me? I promise you, I promise, if I hear one word about Paintball being out fighting tomorrow, I will send a team to drag you in so I can toss you in a cell until you sleep for twelve hours. You rest tomorrow and I¡¯ll call you the next day about coming in for a full debriefing. And when I say tomorrow, I mean all of the rest of today and the next day. It¡¯s just after four am on Saturday right now. You are off for the rest of the weekend and I will call to make arrangements with you on Monday. Is that understood?¡±


    My head bobbed before I glanced toward the secured Cup and the body of her brother, which had been covered with a blanket. ¡°What about her?¡±


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ll deal with her ourselves, don¡¯t you worry about it,¡± the woman assured me.


    ¡°The person I feel sorry for is whatever prosecutor has to sit and listen to her bullshit story all the way through without punching her in the fucking face.¡±

 Acceptance 29-17

    Peyton¡¯s mom was okay. That was the first thing we checked on after getting out of the Conservators building now that things had actually calmed down a bit. Apparently she had been teleported right to the edge of town along with one of their neighbors, and a couple cops had eventually picked them up. After being given a thorough examination to make sure they were who they claimed to be and that there were no lingering effects from the teleportation, they were taken to a hotel. It turned out that the entire apartment building was going to be locked down for quite awhile yet, while the authorities examined every inch of it for evidence about what the Scions had been doing (not to mention checking for any traps they had probably left behind).


    Needless to say, Peyton was ready to go stay with her the second she got the call about where her mother was. On the other hand, she, like the rest of us, was also incredibly exhausted. Flying all the way there with her marbles just wasn¡¯t going to happen any more than I was going to be able to paint-run myself home. So, with a little help from Fred and his van, we drove instead. Soon, Peyton was saying her goodbyes and promising to talk to us sometime in the afternoon or evening, before dashing inside the hotel where we could see her mother anxiously pacing around the lobby. As Fred pulled the van away, I caught a glimpse of Peyton embracing the woman, both of them clinging tightly to one another. Which, of course, sent mixed feelings through me. Relief for Peyton and her mother after everything they had been through, as well as relief for the fact that my parents were still alive. And yet, I couldn¡¯t talk to them. I couldn¡¯t even hug them. The Scions might¡¯ve been stopped for good (basically), but my mom and dad were still sick, still affected by the Sleeptalk. After everything that had happened, what I really wanted, even more than rest, was to sit with my parents. We didn¡¯t even have to do anything important, I just¡­ I just wanted to be with them.


    That would come, I knew. We were still working on that. It just felt so far away, especially right then. I was tired, sore, and just plain done with everything. Even thinking about the fact that we still had to finish that teleportation machine so we could grab Pittman and get the cure out of him made me want to scream until I passed out.


    But I didn¡¯t. I pushed it down, telling myself to take it one step at a time. And to be happy that Pencil wouldn¡¯t hurt anyone ever again. Yes, that was because his own sister had killed him as part of her ¡®escape all consequences¡¯ plan. But I couldn¡¯t do anything about that right now anyway. And it still meant he was gone. He was done. No one else would ever be hurt or killed by that psychopath ever again. We had to focus on the good parts, not just dwell on everything that still needed to be done.


    ¡°We¡¯ll help your parents too.¡± That was Paige. ¡°They¡¯re safe¡­ enough for now.¡± Apparently she¡¯d been watching me as we all slumped in our seats in the back of the van. Well, most of us anyway. Sierra was up front next to Fred, animatedly telling him everything about what happened as she finished off the bag of chips he had apparently been stress-eating while waiting to find out what was going on.


    Wren, laying across one of the seats with Qwerty slumbering on top of her, spoke up a bit tiredly. ¡°Uh huh. Soon as we get back to the shop, I¡¯ll get my tools and¡­ and¡­ umm¡­¡± It seemed she was so exhausted by that point she¡¯d actually forgotten what she was saying in mid-sentence and just sort of trailed off like that.


    ¡°When we get back to the shop,¡± Fred put in pointedly, ¡°you¡¯re going to sleep. That goes for everyone else too. No work, superhero or otherwise, until you rest. That means no building magic instantaneous transportation doohickeys either.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± I made myself agree, shifting a bit in my seat. ¡°None of us are in any shape to work right now.¡± Even as the words left me, I had to flinch a little at a sharp ache that went through my shoulder. I was still on painkillers delivered by the special bandage meant to deal with the wound Pencil had left me with, but it still hurt. And I definitely couldn¡¯t let Simon figure out I was hurt there. If people really had seen that stream, my brother might just be able to put two and two together if he noticed an injury in the same place. Maybe I would go see if Patchwork had a free minute sometime tomorrow. Or rather, later today considering it was already early morning by that point.


    In any case, I didn¡¯t want to push her right now. I could deal with the injury this way for the time being while she helped others who had been hurt worse than me. Between the Star-Touched she could fully heal, and the Prev emergency personnel she could at least temporarily stabilize until they made it to the hospital, I was pretty sure Patchwork had a full dance card already.


    ¡°I think we can deal with taking a break,¡± Murphy put in. She and Roald were the front-most of the rear seats, with Qwerty and Wren behind them and Paige and I in the very back. ¡°I mean come on, we¡¯ve earned it.¡± Her hand waved my way. ¡°She fought Pencil all by herself and totally kicked his ass.¡±


    ¡°They,¡± I corrected absently, looking out the window at the passing streets for a moment before realizing the others were looking at me. Even Qwerty had woken up and hopped onto the back of the other seat. Sierra had turned in the front to look back.


    Their attention made me blush, shifting a little. ¡°Oh, uh, right. I forgot, with everything that happened, I never really¡­ umm, huh. This seems stupidly unimportant now.¡± Still, after taking a breath, I explained about how I didn¡¯t really feel like I fit the mold for either a straight up boy or a straight up girl, and didn¡¯t really want to be beholden to either concept. I was me, I was Cassidy. Sometimes I did more masculine things, sometimes I did more feminine things. I liked dresses and pants and skating and pretty dolls and running and all sorts of things. But most importantly, I felt like I drifted somewhere in between those boxes. I didn¡¯t want to change myself to fit either of them anymore. I refused to fit into the boxes. Instead, I would break down the sides of the boxes and fit myself into either or both of them as I liked. It had taken months of pretending to be a boy in costume, as well as the return of my lost memories for me to fully understand and accept that. Even now, it would still take me time to really understand what it meant. But I was ready for this step. I needed to see how it felt to just be me.


    Murphy, for her part, took that in stride. ¡°Okay, they fought Pencil all by themself and totally kicked his ass. The point is, everyone¡¯s earned a nap and a sandwich.¡± After a brief pause, she turned in the seat to look my way once more with a visible wince. ¡°I mean, sorry, I know what you really want is to fix your parents. Like Paige said, we¡¯re gonna do that too. We will, they just¡­ they¡¯ll be okay for now, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I agreed, trying to sound as positive as possible. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, guys, I¡¯m not about to run off and try to slingshot myself to Breakwater all by myself just to punch that bastard. At least, not tonight.¡± I meant it as a joke, though it came off a bit weakly. ¡°I know I need to sleep. We all do. My parents--everyone affected by the Sleeptalk will be okay for now. We just have to take it one step at a time. Today¡¯s step was stopping the Scions. We deserve a pat on the back for that. Maybe even two pats.¡±


    ¡°But I still don¡¯t understand,¡± Qwerty managed, hopping down to perch on my leg. ¡°I know you disguise yourself like a boy to hide when you¡¯re Paintball, but I thought Cassidy-you was a girl. Did your sex change?¡±


    Oh boy. This was going to take a bit. Or so I thought. But before I could even push aside my own inner amusement at the thought ¡®oh boy¡¯ coming up given the subject, Roald was already talking. ¡°Oh, uhh no, sex and gender are two different things, Qwerty. Sex is like, the pieces of the body you¡¯re born with, and gender is how you express yourself, how you act. It¡¯s sort of like¡­ uhh¡­ oh I know, it¡¯s like this van.¡± He fumbled a bit with his words toward the middle, but by the end had picked up confidence.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Qwerty sounded uncertain. ¡°Like the van? Cassidy doesn¡¯t even have wheels! I mean, when she¡¯s not wearing her skates. Wait, no, when they¡¯re not wearing their skates.¡±


    That made Wren audibly giggle from her spot, and I was pretty sure the others were snickering as well. Roald, meanwhile, shook his head. ¡°Nah, not like that. I mean it¡¯s like a van because¡­ um, okay so this thing we¡¯re riding in is an automobile. That¡¯s like its species, okay? Cassidy is human, and this is an automobile. This automobile is a van. It is structurally a van cuz of the parts it¡¯s made out of. That¡¯s like its sex.


    ¡°Cassidy the human is structurally a female. Human and automobile for species, female and van for sex. But there¡¯s different types of vans, right? There¡¯s delivery vans and work vans and utility vans and passenger vans, and lots of others. This is a passenger van, cuz it¡¯s carrying all these passengers. You know, us. Passenger van is what it does, what it acts like, how it behaves, see? Passenger van is its gender. Sex female and gender female aren¡¯t the same. They¡¯re like homonyms. That¡¯s words that seem the same but mean different things. Cassidy the species human and sex female doesn¡¯t always feel or act like gender female. Sorta like--well sometimes Fred over there uses this van to carry tools and stuff instead of passengers, see? So then it¡¯d be more like a work van. For a lot of people, their cars are always used for the same thing, so the automobile gender stays the same. And for a lot of people, their gender stays the same or fits in that average box. I have all the boy parts and I feel like a boy too. I¡¯m a species human, sex male, gender male. Cassidy is species human, sex female, gender both! Or maybe all. Or none. Or undetermined. There¡¯s lots of different options, but it¡¯s hard to remember lots of different pronouns, so they use ¡®they.¡¯ Some people use special pronouns instead, so they can feel like they¡¯re actually being called by something that applies to them, that fits them. All anyone like that wants is to feel like they¡¯re expressing and being seen for who they are.¡±


    ¡°Fluid,¡± I put in. ¡°I¡¯m genderfluid. It changes, shifts back and forth. Sometimes it¡¯s more of one, other times it¡¯s more of the other. And sometimes it¡¯s pretty even.¡±


    Once that was all out and Murphy was giving Roald a quick hug, Wren turned in the seat and put her chin on the seat to stare at Qwerty with a hopeful smile. ¡°Does that help at all?¡±


    Over in the driver¡¯s seat, I heard Fred murmur something about how it helped him at least. Meanwhile, Qwerty seemed to be considering that for a few long seconds. He looked back and forth between Wren and me, before hopping over to my shoulder. ¡°Species automobile, sex van, gender passenger van. Species human, sex female, gender fluid. It¡¯s still kinda confusing, but¡­¡± His head tilted one way, then the other before he made his colorful wings flare with a decisive nod. ¡°I think I understand enough. And mostly I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re happy anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what would make me even more happy,¡± I announced while slipping out of my seat to climb around to the one Roald and Murphy were in. Without another word, I pulled the boy into a tight embrace. ¡°You¡¯re pretty smart, you know that? It¡¯s pretty nice having you guys around. Actually, I have no idea where I¡¯d be without you.¡±


    Murphy, straightening in her seat, proudly put in, ¡°There now, see?


    ¡°I told you breaking into that gas station would totally work out for us.¡±


    *******


    Eventually, we dropped off everyone else and I took a rideshare back to my own house from the shop. I was basically dead on my feet by that point, almost falling asleep in the back of the sedan before even getting home. When I did manage to stagger my way through the forest near the house and sneak back over the wall, it was all I could do to make it up to my bedroom balcony without being seen.


    It turned out, however, that I needed one thing more than sleep. Namely, food. Even as I looked at my bed longingly, my stomach made its disagreement on my priorities evident. Besides, I couldn''t go to bed until I knew Izzy was home. She had been getting debriefed for awhile now, and I hoped that meant she would be done soon. The last update I had from her was that they were finishing up, and that was about fifteen minutes earlier. With any luck, she would be here before long.


    So, I trudged my way down to the kitchen and took a minute to heat up some food in the microwave. I didn''t dare use anything more than that because I was so tired it would probably go wrong. Sitting at the table with my reheated food, I dug in. It actually woke me up a little more, though not much. But at least my stomach wasn''t groaning at me constantly. That whole thing had taken a lot out of me, to say the least. The last thing I had eaten were those cheese fries and sandwiches with Izzy and Amber at the diner before we got the call to help with the Scions. Which felt like days ago instead of hours.


    I wasn''t surprised that Simon wasn''t in the house. Honestly, considering everything that happened, I doubted I would see him at all for awhile. He and the rest of the Ministry were probably going to be pretty busy dealing with the aftermath of that whole situation. Which suited me just fine, considering I had my own stuff to do. Though I did hope he was getting some sleep, considering how much he¡¯d probably been running around recently trying to keep up with everything. If I was tired, he had to be in even worse shape given he had a much bigger organization to deal with and pretty big shoes to fill. Hopefully the other leaders in the Ministry, whoever they were, would make sure he didn''t pass out from exhaustion. Maybe the bear and raccoon could tell him to take a nap?


    Was it weird that I was worrying about Simon being tired from helping run a massive criminal cartel or whatever? Yeah, that was probably weird. But what was I supposed to do? He was still my brother. And with both of our parents out of commission, it made me feel that worry even more. It wasn¡¯t something I could easily just dismiss.


    Fortunately, I didn''t have to dwell on that too much. Before I was halfway done with my food, Izzy arrived. She was dropped off and walked right up to the front door by an unfamiliar figure in a suit and tie who screamed Federal Agent type to me. It felt like he was doing his best to seem casual, but¡­ yeah, it didn¡¯t work. Either way, I thanked the man for bringing her home, and he somewhat awkwardly made me promise to get her to bed. It felt like he was accustomed to talking to parents and didn¡¯t know how to adjust to this situation.


    Soon enough, he left, and I went back to the kitchen with Izzy. I made her some food as well, and we wolfed it all down. She was even more tired than I was, and I had to poke her a couple times so she wouldn¡¯t end up falling face-first into the plate. Afterward, we cleaned up quickly and then trudged upstairs. There was no question about sleeping separately, not this time. The two of us went straight to my room, got ready for bed, and crawled in. We couldn''t even take the time to talk about everything that happened, not yet. We both started to drift off very quickly. Everything faded and I just let myself gradually fall into blissful unconsciousness while snuggled up against my sister.


    We had managed to get a lot done today, a lot of very important things. Peyton¡¯s mom and those other people were safe. And we had an in with Ten Towers since Rubi knew everything and could be trusted. That was¡­ yeah, that was going to be a whole thing.


    Meanwhile, the Scions were essentially done as an organization, which did feel pretty good, to be honest. Even if I did have some complicated emotions about that whole Pencil being killed by his own sister thing. Even with that included, it was nice to realize that he wouldn¡¯t ever hurt anyone else. But there was still plenty to do. We weren¡¯t done, not by a long shot. And yet, for that moment, I could feel some measure of satisfaction, even if it wasn¡¯t perfect.


    We would deal with Pittman and that whole situation. We had a plan for it, which was more than we¡¯d had for the Scions. Even better, we had Qwerty now. He could help Wren perfect the modifications to the machine. Yeah, it wouldn¡¯t be easy, but we could do it.


    But that would all come later. For now, what I really needed was sleep. So, laying there with Izzy, feeling her steady, reassuring breathing while her hand lightly clutched mine, I let go of all those worries and uncertainties for the time being and I allowed myself to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.


    I had a feeling I was going to need it.

 Acceptance 29-18

    It was around the middle of the afternoon when I finally came awake. Saturday afternoon, just a little after three o¡¯clock. No one had bothered us all day, apparently. Which was good, considering how badly we had both needed that rest. I actually felt somewhat human again. Not that everything was hunky dory, of course. There was still so much to do. But it didn¡¯t feel quite so overwhelming. It was amazing how much good getting some actual sleep could do.


    Hearing my phone vibrate on the nearby table, I shifted just enough to pick it up, not wanting to disturb Izzy if I could help it. Then I looked at what turned out to be a lot of notifications. Seriously, there must have been forty or fifty messages. Most of them were from my team, telling me to check out several links to what were apparently various versions of the video of the fight I¡¯d had with Pencil, along with some updates from Wren more recently about starting to work on the machine again. There was also a message from Tomas reminding me that we were supposed to have dinner with his family that night, a few updates from Amber, and other random bits.


    Izzy shifted against me, turning her head to quietly ask, ¡°You gonna watch that video?¡±


    Exhaling, I shrugged a bit while squeezing her closer. ¡°I lived it, I¡¯m not sure how much I need to see it.¡± But, under her squint, I relented and brought up the first link. There were so many comments on the video, and it had a¡­ a truly staggering amount of views. This was just one of several links? Oh God, how big was this whole thing?


    Together, we laid there and watched how that fight had gone. She, of course, kept twisting to stare at me now and then. Once it was over, she shook her head slowly. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Better now,¡± I promised. ¡°And hey, he¡¯s not¡­ not gonna hurt anyone again.¡± Even while saying that, my throat went dry, a lump forming in it. Amanda. Cup. She¡¯d killed her own brother after all that just to make a play for saving herself from the worst consequences. And worse, she might just get away with it.


    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t really have the time or capability to focus on that. The authorities would have to figure out how to handle Amanda Sanvers. For now, everything I had was going to go toward dealing with Pittman and fixing our parents, Irelyn, and the rest of his victims. Not to mention handling sitting through a whole dinner with the man who had originally erased the memory I so recently regained. Which didn¡¯t exactly feel like my idea of a good time, no matter how great the food was. I just had to pretend to be the same clueless little child (okay teenager but still) they were expecting and not give them any reason to be suspicious.


    Because I was pretty sure if I even suspected that Kent might be trying to do something with my memories, I would kick the fucker as hard as I could in the junk, then punch him in the throat as he doubled over. And that might be a little difficult to explain away.


    Izzy and I watched a couple more videos. They were mostly the same as the first one, with some edits done to add sound effects, music, or other bits. And all of them had even more comments than the first. There were people from all over the country watching the video of my fight with Pencil. Apparently these clips had been shared on the SPHERE forum and were getting a lot of traction, which was just¡­ just¡­ overwhelming, to say the least. I honestly had no idea how to react to any of it. This was even bigger than that joke video where someone had stuck Yakety Sax onto that clip of Cu¨¦lebre and me. Apparently they were playing select clips from the fight on the national news.


    ¡°Caishen was right,¡± Izzy murmured after I set the phone down and laid my head back against the pillow once more to let it sink in. ¡°There¡¯s gonna be more bad guys gunning for you to make a name for themselves. You¡­ you¡¯ll be careful, right?¡± She shifted to focus on me, worry evident in her eyes. ¡°You have to be careful, Cass.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I gave a quick nod. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, I promise. And hey, I have a lot more help now. Which¡­ which is also scary.¡± The last bit came in a soft murmur as a cold shiver ran through me.


    ¡°Because they could go after them too,¡± Izzy murmured, a slight grimace crossing her face before she focused on me once more and brought her finger up to my nose pointedly. ¡°Yeah, but don¡¯t you dare pull away or do anything stupid like go off by yourself just to draw someone out. You know what¡¯ll happen if you do something like that?¡±


    My head bobbed up and down quickly. ¡°Yup, you, Paige, and probably a few others will take turns kicking my butt. Don¡¯t worry, I¡­ I know better than that, I promise. If I find out anything about someone coming for me, I¡¯ll let you guys know. I need as much help as I can get.¡±


    We talked a bit more about that, just lying there together without being in any real hurry at the moment. Sure, there was a lot to do, but we needed these few minutes together just to maintain some semblance of sanity. Especially after everything that happened yesterday.


    Finally, however, we picked ourselves up and took turns getting cleaned up in the bathroom. Then we took a quick breakfast/lunch downstairs (thankfully Chef Claudio was here so it was much better than anything I could heat up) before heading out. Dinner with Tomas and his family would be around seven, so I still had time to drop by the shop and see if I could help with anything else. Anything that had to do with fixing the machine, that was. I wouldn¡¯t be going out patrolling as Paintball, considering how serious Caishen had seemed about threatening to throw me in a cell for a few hours if I tried that. But that didn''t mean I couldn''t still help get some important things done. There was a lot of work to do on that machine, and very little time to do it in. At least, if we wanted to get all of Pittman''s victims back on their feet anytime soon.


    Izzy, meanwhile, needed to go in for a Minority meeting. Something about dealing with the aftermath of losing Whamline, him turning out to be a traitor, and Amber being responsible for his death. The people in charge wanted to find out if they were going to be lingering issues with Amber being part of the team. And, more importantly, they were going to set up counseling for all of them, including Amber herself. It was mandatory counseling, which was probably for the best.


    In any case, I wished Izzy luck and told her to text me about anything. Then we split up and I headed to the shop. I had already sent messages back to the others, and let Peyton know that no one expected her to show up today. She had almost lost her mother last night, so taking some time off was completely understandable. Something made me doubt her mom would let Peyton out of her sight anyway, even if she tried.


    Sure enough, Peyton wasn''t there. Neither were Murphy or Roald, apparently because they were getting set up with Rubi in what would be their new home now that the older girl was going to be part of Ten Towers.


    ¡°Wow,¡± I remarked to Fred after getting a text from Murphy passing along that news, ¡°those people work fast.¡± I¡¯d waited a minute for him to finish selling a box full of assorted electrical parts and some sort of half-built microwave to an excited-looking older woman, before speaking up once she bustled her way out. He and I were the only ones downstairs, while Paige, Qwerty, Sierra, and Wren were up in the main workshop. It turned out the two Biolem girls had shown up a few hours ago. Easy, when you didn¡¯t need much sleep, I supposed.


    Still focused on recording his latest transaction, Fred absently asked, ¡°Who works fast? The kid?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    My head shook. ¡°Ten Towers. They''ve already got Rubi and the others moving into a new place. It hasn''t even been twenty-four hours. Hell, I don''t think it''s been twelve hours yet since she accepted the offer. Yet they already found a place for them, leased it, and now they''ve got a moving company taking all their stuff over there. Apparently their rent and utilities are comped, in addition to what was supposed to be a salary five times over what she was making before. Also it sounds like there may be something about a car. Which, again, it hasn''t even been twelve hours since she agreed.¡±


    The man grunted a bit before looking up. ¡°You mean the people trying to solidify the recruitment of a powerful Touched jumped on the chance to make sure she signs on the dotted line by plucking her and all the people who depend on her out of a little apartment they can barely live in and put them in something nice? They''re wooing her. Well, I suppose they''re wooing all of them. Easier to convince the one you want to jump on the offer if she''s got all her siblings gushing on and on about how great everything is.¡±


    It was a good point, of course. And I really couldn''t blame the Towers people for being eager to make sure Rubi signed up with them. After all, it really was an incredible power. And on top of that, she had been the one to discover Pencil¡¯s weakness in the first place. She was, in so many respects, the reason he had been stopped. And, more personally, she was why I was alive. I couldn''t even imagine what would''ve happened if I didn''t know he could actually be hurt if you hit him enough times. Sure, I would''ve kept trying, but knowing that it was possible had given me confidence that probably wouldn''t have been there otherwise. Up until that whole thing with Rubi everyone had thought he was completely invulnerable to everything. I might''ve focused more on trying to find a way out, or just been distracted by the supposed impossibility of the situation. Either way, I was pretty sure it would have gone poorly.


    With that in mind, I passed Fred an envelope of cash I had taken out. When he looked at me uncertainly, I explained. ¡°There''s five thousand and four hundred dollars in there. Use five thousand to get Wren some new tools and other things she needs around here. We already put money into supplies, she deserves to have some good equipment to use on it.¡±


    Fred nodded slowly, looking at the envelope like he was still baffled by the presence of so much money. ¡°And the four hundred?¡±


    I smiled a little. ¡°Make her take a break at some point and go out for some nice things, just the two of you. I mean, go to dinner, see a movie together, and maybe get her some new clothes she''ll like. Just make some good memories with her. You''re the only person she''s got in her family, so I think she needs to have some moments that aren''t about work or superhero stuff. She deserves to have some fun too. Actually, here.¡± Reaching in my pocket, I took out one more hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter. ¡°This one is special. You only take this one if you promise to exchange the whole thing for tokens at one of those arcades and let her blow all of it on games and ice cream. Maybe popcorn too. No responsibilities, no saving it for something useful. Go and blow all of it on having the best couple hours she can possibly have.¡±


    The man stared at me in silence for a moment, his mouth pressed tight together. But he gave a short, jerky nod and blinked a few times. I took my hand off that last bill and turned to head upstairs. But I stopped when he spoke. ¡°Cassidy.¡±


    I turned by the door leading to the stairs and looked that way to find that the man had stood up from behind the counter and was staring at me. He spoke again, his voice a bit rough. ¡°You were wrong a minute ago, when you said she''s only got me for family. You and the others, you''re all family. At least, in every way matters. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, you just ask. Wren and I, we¡¯ll do everything we can to help. I know that doesn''t mean that much, considering all the resources you''ve already got--¡±


    ¡°Now it''s your turn to be wrong,¡± I interrupted. ¡°It means a lot, Fred. That money I just handed to you, the house I live in, my education, all the people who work for my family, I didn''t earn any of it. And it comes from bad places. Places I try not to think about too much. And maybe I feel like if I put that money and resources into a place like this, it can help it be just a little bit better. Turning something bad into something good or whatever. The point is, you and the others are basically the only people I know who I can be completely certain have nothing to do with my family and their business. I can trust you, and that right there means everything.¡±


    For a long moment, the two of us stood there and stared at each other, both clearly feeling a bit awkward and uncertain. Finally, Fred coughed. ¡°Yeah, well, you better get up there and see what the kid needs next. I''ve got a lot of paperwork and stuff to do here.¡± His voice rose substantially toward the end, turning a bit high-pitched.


    So, I left the man alone and went to join the others. The three girls were busy drawing what looked like an elaborate series of circuits and wires on one of the whiteboards, animatedly discussing their plans back-and-forth with each other. Meanwhile, Qwerty was perched on top of a nearby table, little head stepping back and forth between them like someone watching a tennis match. He had a bowl of peanuts in front of him, which he was popping in his mouth one after another, his beak working to shell the nuts quickly before he scarfed them down. Every once in a while, he would call out a string of words that I had no hope of following, and one of the girls would erase or add something to the board.


    Once they noticed I was there, I continued to stare at the board for a few long seconds before nodding sagely. ¡°Yep, still total and complete gibberish. Turns out I did not suddenly become a technological genius overnight. I know, I am as surprised and disappointed as all of you. Really, what do I even contribute to this whole organization? I should probably just pack it in and quit now, right?¡±


    Qwerty and Wren both reacted quickly and decisively to that, flinging themselves away from their work to crash into me together. Wren hugged me around the waist while Qwerty landed on my shoulder and wrapped his wings and paws around my head. Both of them were loudly disagreeing with my assessment while I giggled and returned their embraces as well as I could.


    ¡°Okay, okay, I guess I''m not completely useless.¡± Looking at the board again, I blanched. ¡°Not about other things, anyway. That really does look like ancient hieroglyphics to me. I am really glad I''m not expected to contribute to this part. I guess you guys are working out some of the circuitry or something?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Sierra confirmed. ¡°Speaking of which, I suppose I shouldn''t have taken all those advanced placement Differential Equations tests for you while you were gone, huh?¡± She held that flat stare until I narrowed my eyes, then snickered and turned back to their work once more.


    Rolling my eyes and huffing a little (mostly for show), I shrugged toward Paige. ¡°Anyway, I may not be up on the technical stuff, but I am a fresh pair of hands, and I''ve got a couple hours here. Anything you guys need, just let me know. Even if it''s just to go get more snacks. I am very good at getting snacks.¡±


    I did end up doing that a bit later, but mostly I watched and listened to things I had no hope of understanding, in between jogging back-and-forth through the room as well as downstairs and up again to grab things they needed. Gradually, the modifications to the machine were taking shape. It wasn''t anywhere near ready, and wouldn''t be for awhile. We couldn''t rush this. As anxious as I was to grab that son of a bitch and get on with curing everyone, I knew we''d only get one shot. If we screwed up somehow, at best Breakwater would find a new way to block us. At worst, we might just disintegrate Pittman entirely. Which, honestly, at that point might not have sounded like such a bad thing, but it would be if he took the secret of how to cure this shit to the grave with him. Honestly, I felt like he was probably spiteful enough to actually kill himself to stop us from getting the cure if there was no other way to escape. It just felt like something he would do so he could have the last laugh.


    Eventually, it was time for me to head out again. Paige walked me downstairs and out through the back alley. Some part of me had worried about people from the other gangs spying on the shop just to find out more about us, but according to Wren, they had already tried. Some gang members had staked out the place a long time ago, and she had made them pay for it with several assorted tricks. Which included teleporting a large bucket full of incredibly nasty-smelling and sticky goo to fall on top of them. She had cameras hidden away throughout the neighborhood, and paid attention to anyone new hanging around.


    The kid was a genius, that was for sure. We were beyond lucky to have her. I was beyond lucky to have all of them.


    Unfortunately, no matter how helpful they were, they couldn''t do anything to get me out of this dinner. I had to go, or risk Kent paying more attention to me than I wanted. I was just going to have to smile and make nice with the man responsible for erasing my memory and setting my own personal development back years.


    And hey, if worse came to worst, I¡¯d get to kick him in the junk.

 Acceptance 29-19

    Was it strange that I had just been in a life and death fight with Pencil, psychotic leader of a band of superhuman serial killers, twelve hours earlier, and I was still more anxious about going to this dinner? I supposed, to be fair, that was probably because I had more time to be anxious about it. In the moment back in that fight all I''d been able to do was act. There wasn''t much time for obsessing over what was happening. It wasn''t like I had planned to confront Pencil by myself. My adrenaline had seen me through most of it, and by the time I had been able to really think, it was all over. Well, aside from what happened with Cup afterward, and that had mostly just left me confused and a little sick inside, not nervous.


    Besides, the worst thing Pencil would have done there was kill me. Kent, on the other hand, could take my memories and erase the person I was. He had already done it once before, when my parents thought they were helping. Maybe that was why I was so much more anxious about this. I had only just regained the memories he took away from me the first time, had only just come to an actual understanding about the person I was and wanted to be. If something went terribly wrong here, it could conceivably result in me losing that person. Not just my better understanding of who I was, but everything about Paintball, the team, all of it. I would still be walking around, but how would the others bring my memory back? How would they fix it? And until they did, what person would I be? Last time it had taken five years and a whole lot of outside influence for my memory to return. And the stakes for me forgetting anything at this point were so much higher than they had been before.


    Kent could destroy who I was so much more effectively than simple death.


    Needless to say, those thoughts were running pretty strongly through my head as I stepped out of the rideshare car I had summoned to take me to the Jackson house. On the way, I had called the field hospital where we¡¯d left Bobby. Once again, all they could tell me was that he was recovering nicely but still needed more time to be back on his feet. Honestly, I was just glad that he was taking the need to rest seriously. I¡¯d half-expected to hear that he ignored the doctors¡¯ orders and took off on his own.


    The guard at the gate waved me through, and I tried my best not to look like a prisoner walking to execution as I headed up the driveway to the front door. It was okay, it would be okay. This was just dinner, that¡¯s all. I could smile and make polite conversation. And to be honest, if there was anything off about me, they¡¯d probably just assume it was because of all the emotions I was feeling about my parents being sick. Yeah, that was right, they had absolutely no reason to suspect I knew anything. Of course I would be off right now. They couldn''t possibly expect me to be completely normal. Not with all this going on. Okay, this was okay. If I seemed off or distant, it was because my mom and dad had been in the hospital for all this time. That was a good cover.


    Right, and of course now I felt even worse for thinking of it like that. My parents being sick and in the hospital was good cover?! What the fuck was wrong with me? My stomach was twisting itself into knots from the guilt over being such a horrible person. Just great, I was going to throw up. I was absolutely going to stagger over to the bushes and heave right into the--


    ¡°Cassidy!¡± The door opened, revealing the tall, elegant-yet-somehow-also-punk blonde figure of Mills Jackson, Tomas¡¯s mother. She gave me a beaming smile which melted into a somber expression as she offered both hands to me. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you made it. I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s taken so long for us to have you over. I--your parents are¡­¡± She trailed off, grimacing a little before exhaling as I hesitantly and somewhat reluctantly took her offered hands. ¡°How are you doing, Cassidy? Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°I mean, my parents are in the hospital with a potentially incurable disease that was forced on them by some sort of terrorist,¡± I pointed out a little dryly. I had been going for a bit of dark humor but it just came out bitterly, so I forced myself to stop. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m okay. I mean, as okay as I can be. Really, I mean, the doctors are doing everything for them, right?¡±


    Mills gave a short nod, squeezing both of my hands as she offered me a soft, reassuring smile. ¡°Absolutely. And we know that for a fact. Kent went over there the other day just to make sure. Elena and Sterling have always been proper mates to us whenever we needed anything. The least we can do is check in on them, make sure no one¡¯s cutting any corners over there. Though I feel like we should have had you come stay with us until they recover.¡± She paused then, clearly actually considering the idea. Which made a horrifying rush of thoughts about how completely screwed I would be if I somehow got stuck living here rush through my head. It left me dizzy.


    ¡°I''m okay for now,¡± I quickly put in, trying not to sound too freaked out by the possibility. ¡°But thanks. It¡¯s nice to know if things get too lonely there''s someplace Izzy and I can go.¡± There, drop that little reminder that I wasn¡¯t alone, no matter how busy Simon happened to be. And, with any luck, remind them that they probably didn¡¯t want a member of the Minority snooping around their house or seeing who came and went. ¡°Right now I think being able to stay in my own room is more important. Believe me, if I was here, I¡¯d just keep waking everyone up by walking around all the time.¡± And there was a bit to make her worry that if I was here I¡¯d wander where I wasn¡¯t supposed to be and maybe see something bad. With any luck that would put a stop to any thoughts she¡¯d been having about convincing me to come stay with them. Because I would quite honestly rather run away from home and deal with the consequences of going missing than live in this house.


    Thankfully, if that seemed to do the trick. Mills made me promise to let them know if I needed anything from now on, and told me to let Izzy know the same stood for her, even if they didn''t know her yet. Then she let me into the house and toward the dining room. As we headed inside, she was saying, ¡°Tomas is just showing Maki and our other guests around, I''m sure they''ll be in soon. I hope you don¡¯t mind having some extra company tonight?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh, no of course not. It¡¯s your house,¡± I pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you can have all the guests you want.¡± It made sense that Maki would be here, of course, being Tomas¡¯s¡­ boyfriend (did Tomas know they shifted sexes?) and all. But who were the other guests? Looking at the table, I could see a total of seven places set. Taking out the spots for Kent, Mills, Tomas, Maki, and me left two. Who else was going to be here for this dinner? Idly, I wondered what I would do if those other two guests ended up being a certain bear and raccoon pair who kept switching places. Boy, wouldn''t that be a fun dinner to sit at?


    Okay, I was trying to be sarcastic, but yeah, that actually did sound awesome. And might just make this whole dinner worth it.


    But no, it wasn''t them. The answer came quickly as the door on the other side of the room opened and two people came in together. My inner reactions to seeing each of them in turn could not have been more different. The first one I saw was Eits, Ryder. And when I saw him come through that door, I felt a sense of relief mixed with something else I couldn''t really identify. But I was glad he was there. At least if worse came to absolute worst, I would have someone on my side who knew the truth.


    Unfortunately, as relieved as seeing him made me feel, the person he was with made a groan do its level best to rise up in my throat. Arleigh. It was Arleigh. Why the hell was she here? And was it really too late to pretend to be sick? Sitting through this dinner with Kent was already going to be bad enough, but with Arleigh here as well, I wasn''t completely certain I could stop myself from throwing something at one of them. Or possibly setting something on fire so I could escape. That was probably bad guest etiquette wasn¡¯t it? I had a feeling it would have been frowned on.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    While all that was running through my head, Arleigh came dashing up and pulled me into an embrace without as much as a by your leave. I was simply yanked up against her and squeezed tightly as though we were the very best friends. ¡°Cassie!¡± she blurted cheerfully, ¡°you made it! That¡¯s awesome! We¡¯re gonna have so much fun.¡±


    Matches, I needed some matches.


    By that point, Tomas had come in behind Ryder and gave me an apologetic look while holding his hands up in a helpless gesture. Reading his expression, I could tell both that this hadn''t been his idea and that he hadn''t found out about it soon enough to warn me. Hell, if I knew Arleigh, she probably hadn¡¯t left him alone for two seconds so he could text me since the moment she¡¯d walked in the door.


    ¡°Uh, hey, Arleigh,¡± I managed, trying my best to be civil and not start anything. Especially considering the connection her family had to the Ministry. I really didn¡¯t need to say or do anything that could be suspicious. No matter how tempting it would be to use black paint to silence her for just a little bit. And yes, the idea that super-rich elitist mean girl Arleigh Fosters was secretly hippy flower girl Clime for Sherwood was still hard to get my head around. It actually made me wonder, just briefly, which personality was the act. Or if the truth was some third personality and the other two were just masks she put on.


    Well, if it was, I really wanted her to take the Arleigh mask off.


    ¡°You remember Ryder, right?¡± she was saying, turning while keeping one arm around me to point toward the boy in question with the other. ¡°My tutor. He is so smart, seriously. And good at explaining things. If you ever need help with, like, anything in school, you absolutely have to hire him. Honestly,¡± she added in a whisper that wasn¡¯t nearly quiet enough, ¡°I think he needs the money.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± I murmured, taking the excuse of her pointing out Ryder to extricate myself from her grip so I could walk up to extend my hand that way. ¡°Nice to see you again.¡±


    ¡°Same,¡± he replied with a somewhat mischievous or amused glint in his eye as he squeezed my hand. ¡°But please, don¡¯t let her overhype me. I¡¯m not that good of a tutor. I mean, not that I¡¯m terrible, or like, you know, overcharging. I¡¯m competent. I mean, for the stuff that we cover I¡¯m just fine. I mean, not just fine as in just fine, but like just fine. Good. I¡¯m good. Totally good, and I can shut up any time I want.¡±


    Snickering a little at the boy, I gestured with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Honestly I¡¯m just impressed you could get through that entire spiel while pumping my hand up and down the whole time. It¡¯s like you¡¯re trying to teach me how to churn butter.¡± He really had been very rapidly and firmly shaking my hand throughout all that. And he was still going.


    Blinking down blankly at our swiftly rising and falling clasped hands, Ryder stopped short. A cute blush crossed his face as he coughed and stepped back while releasing me. ¡°Err, sorry about that, Miss Evans.¡±


    ¡°I told you, it¡¯s just Cassidy. Or Cassie,¡± I reminded him, giving his foot a light kick before turning to Tomas. ¡°Hey there, stranger. Is your boyfriend here yet?¡±


    It was Arleigh who answered, voice fairly dismissive. ¡°He''s downstairs doing something in the locker room by the pool. Plucking his eyebrows or trimming his nose hair or something, who knows? He''s been there for a while. Maybe he fell asleep.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t fall asleep,¡± Tomas replied a bit tiredly. ¡°He¡¯s just a bit overwhelmed right now.¡± It sounded like he''d been putting up with her for a bit too long. Which, to be fair, I would count as basically anything more than about ten seconds. On the other hand, there was a time that I would have thought the same about Paige. On the other other hand, I sincerely doubted Arleigh would have the same sort of reveal and turn around.


    But hey, maybe that wasn¡¯t fair. Yes, Arleigh was pretty bad in many ways. She had been a complete bitch to Jae just because her own boyfriend decided Jae was cute, and she was¡­ well, Arleigh. Not to mention the whole supervillain thing. But that was her family. She¡¯d been raised that way. Maybe it was just possible that there really was more to her and I shouldn¡¯t completely dismiss the possibility out of hand.


    ¡°Overwhelmed?¡± Arleigh chose that moment to reply to Tomas. ¡°What¡¯s he got to be overwhelmed about? If he misses home so much we could order from King Wok.¡± She was grinning as she said that with an obviously awful accent, snickering before looking at our expressions. ¡°Oh come on, it was just a joke. He¡¯d get it. Or maybe he¡¯d need another few hours alone. That was a joke too, chill out!¡±


    Yeah, never mind, Arleigh was the worst. Please, please someone tell me why I couldn¡¯t punch her in the face.


    Deciding that getting into a whole thing with her right now, especially in this house, was probably a bad idea, I instead ignored her and turned to look at Mills. She¡¯d been standing on the far side of the room talking to one of the cooks for the past couple minutes as she politely ignored us. ¡°Is there anything we can do to help?¡±


    Realizing I was addressing her, the woman glanced over before shaking her head with a quick smile. ¡°No, no, don''t be silly. You¡¯re guests. Tommy, why don¡¯t you take them through the back garden to see the sculpture you and Maki were working on? We should be ready to eat in about twenty minutes.¡±


    So, the four of us headed through the house and out into the back yard. Like the three-story home itself, I assumed this was a pretty good-sized place for most people. It was also entirely surrounded by a ten-foot stone wall, which several armed guards were patrolling the exterior of. Not to mention the two snipers on the roof, upgraded from what had been one before. And from what Tomas had mentioned the other day, there was an emergency evacuation teleport system in one of the panic rooms that would take them to a secure location elsewhere in the city. The British embassy took protecting Kent Jackson and his family seriously, especially in the current situation.


    We went to look at the stone statue Tomas and Maki had apparently been working on. It was a half-finished form of a buff guy holding a sword and shield, with chainmail. Honestly, it looked really good. Enough that I gave a low, impressed whistle. ¡°You guys really know what you¡¯re doing. Have you been holding out on me, Tomas?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s mostly Maki,¡± he assured me. ¡°Bloke¡¯s got a lot of skill.¡±


    ¡°Tomas helped more than he¡¯ll admit.¡± That was Maki themself, stepping up to join us. They looked maybe a little paler than usual, but also like they were doing their best to appear normal. ¡°The idea of the subject was his.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯m not complaining,¡± Arleigh announced, practically salivating over what was done of the statue. ¡°You can make all the big buff guy statues you want. Do you guys take special orders?¡±


    Selectively ignoring that, Tomas and Maki both started to explain the process they were using for carving out the statue. That took a few minutes, until it was time to go back in to eat. On the way, I drifted back a bit to glance over at Ryder. He offered me a faint smile, even though neither of us really dared talk about anything important here with the others so close. Not even in a whisper. Still, he mouthed, ¡®Pack¡¯s fine.¡¯ Which I gave him a quick, thankful nod for.


    So, we joined Mills and Kent at the dinner table and had what was admittedly a very nice meal. They¡¯d gone all out on this, and I was able to ignore both Kent and Arleigh fairly well, all things considered.


    We were on dessert when Kent had to leave the room to take a phone call. A minute later, I felt a foot nudge me, and looked up from my plate to see Ryder subtly tapping his phone, which was on the table next to him. Realizing what he wanted, I maneuvered my own phone out of my pocket and glanced down at an incoming message. It was a transcript, I realized belatedly. A transcript from the call Kent Jackson was having right then.


    KJ - Amanda Sanvers is in custody, how did she reach out to us?


    Unknown - Through her lawyer, apparently. She knows the Ministry has the resources to end her if we choose. Or to aid in this attempt she¡¯s making to ensure her relative freedom. She¡¯s advocating for the latter.


    KJ - (Laughing) And why does she think we would ever do that?


    Unknown - Bargaining chip. The Overseer puppets. She says she¡¯ll give them to us.


    All we have to do is use every lawyer, judge, and other piece of the justice system we control to make sure she gets off practically scot-free for everything she did.

 Acceptance 29-20

    Okay, so what the hell was I supposed to do with this knowledge? It turned out Cup really had planned out how to get out of basically all the consequences for her monstrous bullshit. She had one of the best possible get out of jail free cards, literally. Of course the Ministry would agree to throw their resources behind helping her in exchange for handing over those puppets. I had absolutely no doubt about that. The only question was exactly how she would make sure they couldn''t just kill her after she handed them over. But something told me she had a plan for that as well. I was starting to think Cup hadn''t been nearly as impulsive and unthinking as she had acted whenever I saw or heard about her. There was definitely a lot more to the violent psychopath than she tended to let on. Even her own brother/lover (and yes the thought of that combination did make bile rise into my throat) had been taken by surprise. Just how much and how long had she been playing it up for everyone? Would we ever actually know?


    Well, one thing was for sure, Amanda Sanvers definitely wouldn¡¯t be getting the punishment she actually deserved. Between what had already been laid out about how she¡¯d manipulated things to give herself a break by turning on Nick and the rest of the Scions, and now managing to give the Ministry a reason to help her out, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she actually managed to walk out of this whole situation essentially free and clear. And wasn¡¯t that just so goddamn fantastic? The very thought of her pulling it off made me want to track that evil bitch down and find a way to break her fucking--


    ¡°Cass?¡± Tomas was looking at me with some concern. ¡°Are you okay? You¡¯re sort of¡­ glaring at that plate like you want to throw it across the room. Or maybe shoot it.¡±


    Shit, he was right, I wasn¡¯t hiding my reaction very well. Fortunately, Mills was too distracted to pay attention to what we were doing. She had stood from the table and moved to see what her husband was doing. But the others were watching me. Ryder looked apologetic, like he¡¯d realized it might¡¯ve been better to wait until we had some privacy before letting me know what he¡¯d managed to use his Mites to eavesdrop on. Still, I quickly pushed all the thoughts and emotions about what Cup was up to out of my mind and shrugged. ¡°Sorry, I was just thinking about my parents and how they¡¯d like to be here for this, that¡¯s all. It¡¯s fine.¡± Yeah, that was a good reason for me to be glaring at my plate. Even if the idea of using my worry about them as an excuse made a knot of guilt twist itself in my stomach. As if I didn¡¯t have enough of that as it was.


    Arleigh reached across the table to pat my hand. ¡°Hey don¡¯t worry, Cass, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re gonna be fine. I mean, come on, they¡¯re so rich they can afford the best doctors in the universe. I mean that literally, I¡¯m pretty sure your family has enough money to pay aliens to bring their super-advanced tech to help them out. The only way they won¡¯t get cured is if that stuff is one hundred percent fatal and that¡¯s--ow.¡± She shifted in her seat, looking down as though to figure out who had kicked her. Tomas, Maki, and Ryder all seemed to wear identical innocent expressions at that moment.


    Clearing my throat, I managed a somewhat weak, ¡°It¡¯s okay, really. I¡¯ll visit them later, after they finish cleaning up the¡­ whatever it was that happened last night.¡±


    Tomas quickly swallowed his latest forkful before giving a rapid nod. ¡°Shit, yeah, did you guys hear about that? Paintball kicked the shit out of Pencil and then Cup killed her own brother just so she could surrender? You saw the videos right? I mean, of the fight. Here, someone put the Mortal Kombat theme over this one.¡± He was already pulling out his phone. Part of me wanted to object, having no interest in watching a video of myself in that fight. But I knew that if I wasn¡¯t Paintball, there was no way in hell Cassidy Evans wouldn¡¯t want to watch that sort of thing over and over again. It would look suspicious, and I already had enough problems with that. I had to be careful, especially around this place. I couldn¡¯t do anything to make them pay more attention to me.


    So, I stood and watched the video of my fight with Pencil with everyone else as we gathered around Tomas¡¯s phone. Actually, I watched it several times over, all with different editing done. Honestly, the fact that people had already managed to do so much with it was impressive. And the amount of views each of those videos had was intimidating. I tried to just act like a normal person right then, reacting the way I would if I hadn¡¯t actually lived through that fight. Partway through, as I saw myself narrowly avoid being killed by that psycho for the fourth or fifth time, I felt someone take my hand. It was Ryder, doing it subtly so no one would see while everyone else was laser-focused on the video, using our bodies to block the view. He squeezed firmly, giving me a brief-yet-meaningful look before releasing me so we wouldn¡¯t draw any attention.


    ¡°Damn, he¡¯s lucky to be alive,¡± Arleigh eventually noted with a low whistle. ¡°But hey, you think he¡¯ll be able to collect that reward money? They wouldn¡¯t give it to Cup, right? I mean, she did kill Pencil, but Paintball caught him. And I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s disqualified for obvious reasons. They¡¯ve gotta give it to him. How do they handle that? They can¡¯t just hand over one point five million dollars in cash.¡±


    Her words made me choke, sputtering despite myself. ¡°How much?¡±


    She laughed at my reaction, shaking her head. ¡°Dude, you didn¡¯t know? It was more for both Pencil and Cup together, and I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll count her since she turned herself in. But even Pencil by himself was worth a million and a half, at least. Depends on how many of those smaller private rewards pop up. The one point five mill was just the verified, authorized reward.¡± She gestured to the phone where the next video replay was still going. ¡°He earned it, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Of course she thinks he earned it,¡± Tomas put in. ¡°Cass is just trying to do the mental math to figure out if that¡¯s a lot of money or not,¡± he teased me lightly. Somehow, Tomas poking at me for my family being rich wasn¡¯t as annoying or aggravating as Arleigh doing it. Maybe because I¡¯d never spent time making out with her---aaaaand now I was feeling sick again. Change the subject, Cassidy, change the freaking subject!


    ¡°They,¡± I finally blurted, stretching out for something to actually say. This was a pretty big subject change, for sure, and it would distract them. Even if I didn¡¯t exactly want to have the discussion in front of Arleigh of all people. Still, it was better than continuing to talk about Paintball, or about what was going to happen with Cup, the whole reward thing, or anything else to do with the Scions fallout.


    So, I told the others that it was no big deal, I just wanted to be referred to as they/them instead of she/her. It felt more like the person I was now, or maybe the person I wanted to be. Either way, it was more accurate. It would help me be the right Cassidy.


    Tomas stepped around the table and pulled me into an embrace without saying much about it. He just hugged me and let that linger for a moment. Which actually felt pretty good, to be honest. When I looked at his face, he winked at me before letting go. ¡°Whatever makes you the best you, Cassidy Evans.¡±


    Maki gave a short nod, their eyes on me with an unreadable expression. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m very glad that you have found a way to be more comfortable with yourself.¡± Which, of course, just made me more curious about that whole situation. I¡¯d been referring to Maki as they in my mind, even though they presented as male in every encounter we had. But I didn¡¯t know if that was more because they didn¡¯t want to let anyone know they could shift sexes or¡­ or what. And it wasn¡¯t exactly an easy subject to bring up without exposing that I knew a lot more than I should.


    Of course, Arleigh had to hug me too. Hers was even tighter, less of a comfortable thing and more like she was hugging me because Tomas had and she felt like it was the right thing for her to do. Or maybe I was just being too judgmental again.


    ¡°Damn straight,¡± she informed me. ¡°Whatever you want to be called works for me. And don''t worry, by the time you get to school again, everyone is going to know they better not call you the wrong thing. You know, or your family¡¯ll pay for them to disapp--¡±


    ¡°Ahem.¡± Mills interrupted, having turned away from the doorway to come back over. She gave Arleigh a brief look. ¡°If everyone is done eating, maybe you''d like to go up and play a game or watch a movie? Seems like a shame to end the day already.¡±


    Obviously, part of me wanted to do just that. I wanted to walk away from this dinner, congratulate myself on not letting anything get too out of hand, and go home. Or to the shop. But no, I couldn¡¯t act like I had a bunch of other things to do. Not to mention the fact that I wanted to talk to Ryder about that conversation he¡¯d eavesdropped on and shown me, maybe even find out if he¡¯d picked up anything else useful. And from what I¡¯d heard, Arleigh and he had come together. Not together together, thank every god and assorted deity in the universe. But he had driven her, since there was something wrong with her car, and there was apparently a long wait on replacement parts thanks to the lockdown. Yeah, it was a whole thing. Arleigh had done an extensive and rather profanity-laden rant about it earlier while we were eating.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The point was, I needed to hang out longer and just make it seem like a completely ordinary thing. Which, to be fair, it could''ve been worse. Yes, Arleigh was there and that wasn''t perfect. But she basically behaved herself for the most part, aside from a completely unthinking comment here or there that made me cringe or bite my tongue. It wasn''t like she was intentionally trying to be awful. It was more like she just didn''t think at all about what she was saying or doing. And from what I¡¯d seen of her home life, maybe that wasn¡¯t all that surprising. Her older brother had been a complete dick whenever I saw him, especially with Arleigh. Maybe if she had grown up in a different family, she¡¯d be a better person. Hell, what if I had grown up differently? What sort of person would I be if I grew up with a brother like him instead of the one I had? Sure, Simon teased me and all that, but I knew he cared.


    Well, sure, he¡¯d almost had me killed. But he hadn¡¯t known who I was right then. Which didn¡¯t exactly get rid of all the issues, given it still left him as someone who could have people killed--and kill them himself, come to think of it. And yet, I still felt like he was overall a better person than what I had seen of Micah. The older boy had literally shoved his sister so hard into the wall just to get into the fridge that he¡¯d left her rubbing her shoulder painfully. Worse, it had seemed very casual to him. It wasn¡¯t like he was roughhousing and it got out of hand. It was just normal.


    And yet, what sort of environment had he grown up in to see that as--okay stop, Cassidy. I was going to spin myself in mental circles until I got dizzy and threw up at this rate. It was hard to know exactly why someone behaved the way they did, what sort of environment they came from. But that didn¡¯t totally excuse their actions. I just¡­ I couldn¡¯t deal with focusing on that right now. All I could do was try not to arouse any suspicions by hanging out here for awhile and acting as though I didn¡¯t have a thousand other things I¡¯d rather be doing right then.


    Okay that wasn¡¯t fair either. Aside from Arleigh¡¯s presence, I did enjoy spending time with Ryder, Tomas, and Maki. They were cool. And if I hadn¡¯t had the crushing weight of wanting to help put together the machine that would eventually lead to fixing my parents, Irelyn, and the others, I might have enjoyed it even more. Instead, every time I caught myself truly relaxing over those next couple of hours, a sharp jolt of guilt would go through me. The fact that I really couldn¡¯t help that much back at the shop anyway didn¡¯t make it go away either.


    Of course, Tomas, Arleigh, and Maki spent a fair portion of the time talking about what had happened to the Scions. And, more specifically, the fight between Paintball and Pencil. Even though we¡¯d already watched those videos, they watched them again, and kept talking about it, dissecting every little bit. Arleigh in particular seemed to be a big fan of his, which just left me reeling even more than I already was. Ryder tried to shift the focus to other things, but he couldn¡¯t be too obvious about it. He did, however, shoot me an apologetic look while Tomas was deep in an explanation about how Paintball must have some sort of special aimbot assistance inside his helmet to pull off some of those shots. Which, of course, they had to go back and play again and again, and get my opinion on. And on and on it went.


    Fortunately, we did eventually watch an actual movie. Then we went outside and threw a frisbee around. Which I managed to do using mostly the arm that wasn¡¯t attached to a shoulder that still secretly had a medication bandage attached to it. Even then, I had to stop myself from visibly and audibly reacting to pulling it a few times.


    Maki disappeared now and then, needing time alone for¡­ whatever they were doing. And no, I still hadn¡¯t settled on a way to talk to them about it that wouldn¡¯t expose too much about my own issues. Maybe I should approach them as Paintball at some point and say that someone I knew had seen them practically get forced into a car by someone from the Ministry? But that would back them into a corner about talking to me. Not to mention potentially expose details to the Ministry themselves. Damn it, what was the right way to go about this?


    I had no idea. And honestly, it was probably a bad idea to take on some other problem right then, even if I felt like there was something more I should be doing. This revelation about how Cup was going to be using the Ministry to get herself out of trouble was bad enough already. I felt like screaming until I was hoarse. Instead, I just threw the frisbee hard enough that Tomas had to chase the thing halfway across the yard, diving to catch it right before it would¡¯ve gone into some of his mother¡¯s flowers.


    Grimacing, I called out an apology and told myself to calm down. Not that it was easy. And it became even harder a moment later as I realized Kent was standing out on the back patio watching us. God, just being under his gaze gave me the creeps. Not just because of that whole memory thing, but also knowing that he had undoubtedly just been making some sort of deal to give Amanda Sanvers her freedom in exchange for those puppet dolls.


    Okay honestly the idea of the Ministry having the dolls felt bad too, I realized belatedly. Those things needed to be destroyed somehow, but something told me they wouldn¡¯t be. Unless we did something about--


    Cassidy, no. Too much on our plates already. We had done enough, right? Let others deal with Amanda, the Overseer puppets, and the rest of that. We were already busy. Trying to teleport someone like Pittman off of Breakwater, keep him prisoner, yoink the secret to curing his Sleeptalk bullshit, and not let anyone find out who we were or what we did was enough. Hell, we still hadn¡¯t figured out what was in all those vials we stole from the Ministry base, or finished going through all those files--okay Paige and Sierra probably had, but still.


    Somehow, I shut everything else out and focused just on the game. And it was¡­ well, not totally relaxing, but not terrible either. Even Arleigh didn¡¯t manage to say or do anything too uncomfortable. I almost let myself forget, just for a few minutes, about everything else that needed to be done or worked on.


    Finally, it was time to leave. I thanked the Jacksons, giving Tomas a hug before heading out with the others. Apparently Ryder was going to be giving all three of us a ride home. Which worked for me. Once the other two were home, he and I could talk.


    It turned out Maki didn¡¯t live that far from Tomas, just a couple minutes'' drive. It was another nice house surrounded by a stone wall with a guarded gate out front. Probably designed and built by the same developer. Maybe from the same plan. Either way, they thanked us politely and stepped out to go inside. As they did so, I sensed more than saw something slip out of their pocket. Picking up what turned out to be a folded-up piece of paper, I started to say something but they had already jogged up to the front gate. And as I opened my mouth to call after them, I noticed a name on the paper. San Francisco Cavers. San? Why did they have a paper with San¡¯s name on it? My sort-of friend (even if he was entirely too obsessed with trying to ship people in our lives) shouldn¡¯t be on any sort of list held by anyone even tangentially connected to the Ministry.


    Carefully unfolding the paper while Arleigh was chatting Ryder¡¯s ear off, I looked at it. More names. A lot of them, actually. Maybe seventy all together. Many were other people from our school, though there were also a lot I didn¡¯t recognize. Some were crossed off or had X¡¯s next to them, others had question marks or nothing at all. Oh and look right there, my name was on the list with a question mark.


    Okay, what? Why would Maki have a list of names, including mine, with lines through some and question marks and--what?


    I was thinking about that for the next few minutes, until we dropped Arleigh off in Sherwood territory. But neither Ryder or I said anything there. God no. We kept our conversation completely inconsequential until we had made it all the way out of that place and made sure no one was listening.


    Only then did I finally look over at the boy and exhale. ¡°Well, this fell out of Maki¡¯s pocket.¡± I showed him the list, having moved to the front as soon as Arleigh left.


    Frowning that way, Ryder slowly asked, ¡°Why would he have a list of names like--wait, some of those are people from your school. Why would he have that?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°I dunno, but I guess it¡¯s something else to check on¡­ somehow.¡± With a sigh, I waved one hand. ¡°But hey at least the Scions aren¡¯t an ongoing problem. Except for one of them. Speaking of which, the Ministry¡¯s gonna go for it, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how they can do anything else,¡± he agreed quietly. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous to risk letting anyone else get their hands on that safe. And since they have access to you-know-who, they¡¯ll be able to get the puppets out of it. That¡¯s if Cup hasn¡¯t managed to do that herself already. But something tells me she hasn¡¯t. Due to the fact that the city hasn¡¯t devolved into a bunch of Touched fighting each other. Err--¡± He blushed. ¡°You know what I mean.¡± Parking the car in front of an old gas station, he looked over at me, expression softening. ¡°Are you okay? I mean, really.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ hanging in there,¡± I murmured softly before letting my head fall back against the seat. ¡°That whole thing could¡¯ve gone a whole lot worse.¡±


    The boy grimaced. ¡°You¡¯re telling me. Wait, are you talking about dinner tonight, or about the fight with the Scions?¡±


    Somehow, I summoned up a smile, meeting his gaze. ¡°Both?¡± My expression sobered. ¡°Thanks for sharing that bit earlier. I owe you.¡±


    ¡°Oh please,¡± he shot back. ¡°Pretty sure I¡¯m still the one in debt. So if you ever come up with a way I can actually pay you back, let me know.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather say neither of us owes anything,¡± I quietly informed him. ¡°Better to just be friends.¡±


    ¡°Friends?¡± His tone was very lightly teasing. ¡°Sure a Star-Touched can be friends with a Fell?¡±


    A snort escaped me. ¡°I¡¯ll give it a shot.


    ¡°Which oughta work out, because as you saw in that video, I have very good aim.¡±

 Commissioned Interlude 17 - Irelyn (NON-CANON Summus Proelium)

    Just in case you missed the note above, this is a non-canon chapter!


    Four Years Ago


    Something strange was going on, Irelyn knew that much. Sure, on the surface, it probably didn''t seem that strange for her parents to adopt a new child. After all, she had turned out to be such a disappointment for her father that it was obvious he would want a do-over. And he had even gone and picked out an older girl, rather than a baby. He didn''t have to deal with all that early toddler and infant stuff, yet she was still young enough to be molded into what he wanted. Maybe just a little bit older than what would have been ideal in his mind for that, but still. All in all, it seemed perfectly understandable from that point of view. And yet, she still couldn''t shake the feeling that there was something very strange and wrong about the whole thing. Something bad.


    She had tried to ignore that feeling, doing her best to simply reach out to be a listening ear for anything her new sister wanted to talk about. But Paige didn''t seem interested in that. Irelyn wasn''t sure if that was just because their father had poisoned her mind against her to make sure she couldn¡¯t ¡®corrupt¡¯ her new sister, or if there was some other reason. She didn''t want to give up, but she didn''t want to push too hard either. Yet there might be another reason that Paige didn''t want to open up. There might be more to her past, someone that an older female figure like Irelyn was reminding her of. Part of her knew it wasn''t really her business. But if this had something to do with her family, or if there was anything she could do to help, she wanted to try. If it turned out to be something personal she shouldn''t know, she would put it down and walk away.


    Of course, that required actually having something to put down in the first place. Trying to get more information about Paige had caused her to run into dead end after dead end. She couldn¡¯t find anyone within the girl''s supposed adoption file. The names all led nowhere, or they were simply too redacted to identify. Which only increased her curiosity, naturally. So far, six months or so after starting this work, Irelyn had been able to determine that the agency her parents had worked with for the adoption was fake. The doctors and nurses who supposedly delivered the girl didn¡¯t exist. Neither did her birth parents. Worse, she was pretty sure the same single person had written the signatures for both supposed parents. She¡¯d used a handwriting analysis tool back at Conservators headquarters one night when no one else was around, and it agreed.


    So what was going on here? Her parents hadn¡¯t kidnapped this poor girl, had they? No, no surely not. They wouldn''t need to. But maybe they had wanted to get a new daughter so badly that they had simply side-stepped the actual system and paid to have that whole thing accelerated, legally speaking. Maybe there was something else hinky about Paige¡¯s past. Had she been abducted by others and forced into this? The whole fake paperwork thing was certainly evidence that her standoffishness was not just a normal reaction.


    It was obvious that if Irelyn was to get any real information, she was going to have to dig deeper and get more creative. So, she had begun searching for any news or stories about young girls from around the time that Paige had been adopted, going back a few months. She kept the search fairly broad, which meant she ended up with a lot of empty leads. Yet she didn''t want to miss anything, so she simply kept at it.


    All of which eventually led her here, to the records room in the basement of the local Seraphs headquarters. A friend had said she might want to take a look at one of the files in there, so she had called in a favor to get access. And now here she was, file in hand. A file that simultaneously answered some questions and raised so many more.


    Okay, so her instinct about something being off with Paige definitely had legs. The girl, who was listed as a Jane Doe but immediately identifiable as Paige in the picture, had been found in an alley surrounded by dead bodies. That was horrific all on its own. Who killed them and why? Why was this girl there? Where and who were her parents? The list went on and on, with no apparent answers to any of it.


    Even more confusingly, she had apparently been pleading with the people who picked her up to find someone named Cassidy. Cassidy would help her. Who was Cassidy? The one who came to mind immediately, naturally, was Cassidy Evans. She was the most famous Cassidy in the city. Well, famous among people who lived in those circles, anyway. But that was ridiculous. It had to be someone else. The only possible connection was that Cassidy''s family was rich too, just like the one that had adopted Paige. Well, that and the fact that Irelyn knew her father hated the Evans. He loathed them so much. Would he have been involved in something that took some strange girl out of their lives? Did that even make any sense at all?


    No, no they couldn¡¯t know about Paige. They absolutely would have done something about it if they did. It wasn¡¯t like the Banners had been quiet about the adoption. They plastered Paige¡¯s picture all over the place, had made it a whole celebration. If Elena and Sterling Evans had had any connection to this girl, they would have done something about that.


    Although to be entirely fair, just because they didn''t know anything about Paige didn''t mean their daughter didn''t. They were around the same age, now that Irelyn thought about it. Was that the connection? Did Cassidy Evans know Paige from a school--no, Paige didn¡¯t go to Cassidy¡¯s school before. She didn¡¯t go to any school as far as Irelyn had been able to find. But maybe they met somewhere and hit it off because they were the same age. Wait, no, that didn¡¯t make sense--okay Paige had to have existed before this. She didn¡¯t just pop up out of nowhere. Maybe she was homeschooled, and Cassidy Evans had--God damn it, Irelyn didn¡¯t even know for certain that this was Cassidy Evans. It could be a completely different Cassidy. She was making too many assumptions, going down too many blind trails. The only evidence she had that this was about that particular Cassidy was the similarity in ages. That wasn''t enough. There had to be hundreds of Cassidies in the city, many of them around the right age. Hell, the name had probably gained popularity around the time of her birth just because the Evans chose it. Sure, they had done an admirable job keeping their daughter out of the news. Few people outside those familiar rich people circles really knew what Cassidy Evans actually looked like these days. She wasn''t constantly being followed around by the paparazzi or anything like that. It was actually pretty incredible how well her parents protected her anonymity. Which¡­ maybe that was why Irelyn kept coming back to this being a possibility. If Paige¡¯s past was shrouded in so many secrets, maybe it was because she did have a connection to Cassidy Evans. No matter how little sense it made. Maybe Paige¡¯s appearance had been changed so much that they didn¡¯t recognize her as someone who had been friends with their daughter?


    No. No, that was absurd. They went to the same school now, and had for the entire past year. Surely one of them would have said something. Cassidy would have recognized Paige if she knew her at all.


    With that thought in mind, Irelyn plucked her phone from a pocket and called one of her friends in the school system. Well, a friend of Flea, anyway. She asked if there were any records of interactions between her sister and Cassidy Evans. What she got back surprised her. Yes, there were interactions. The two apparently hated each other. They definitely weren¡¯t friends. Not in the least. While Paige seemed to get along with everyone else, she actually picked on Cassidy. From the records Irelyn¡¯s friend was able to pull out, there were multiple disciplinary interactions from Paige causing trouble with the Evans¡¯ daughter.


    Did that mean that that girl really was the Cassidy that Paige had been talking about? That made even less sense than before. If she thought this Cassidy could help her, why would she be so awful to the girl? And yet, the fact that she was nice to everyone else and the way she treated Cassidy was so different definitely stood out. Was she awful to Cassidy just because the name reminded her of the person who had been unable to help her before? That didn¡¯t seem right either.


    Irelyn was absolutely missing some key piece to all of this. And every time she looked deeper, she just seemed to end up with more questions. Maybe the best thing she could do right now was find out more about those dead men who had been found scattered around the young Paige back in that alley. Finding out how they died, who they had been, where they came from, all that might give her the answers she was looking for. Or at least send her in the right direction. It had to be better than continuing to yank at the Cassidy thread, anyway. That wasn''t getting her anything but more questions. If she was going to talk to Paige directly about this, she needed some solid information first. The way the girl acted around Cassidy Evans could be explained in several completely contradictory ways.


    Yes, she definitely needed more. And those bodies were probably the best chance she had. Aside, quite possibly, from simply walking up to the Evans and asking what they know about the girl. And Irelyn was pretty sure that wouldn''t go well, no matter what they actually knew. They had no reason to trust the daughter of one of their rivals, even if she was disowned. And appearing to them as Flea would probably just make them even more curious. It could go very badly, to say the least.


    Finding out who those men were, and how they died was her best move. That could lead her to who had killed them. And that had to be the next step to working out where Paige had come from and why her background was such a secret.


    If their father was doing something illegal, Irelyn wanted to know about it. She wanted to make sure her new sister was pulled out of whatever was going on. Even if the girl didn''t like her or want anything to do with her, she couldn''t just let it continue like that. It was very obvious that Paige had already been through more than enough. Whatever else was going on, someone had to make sure that girl was safe and protected.


    Of course, that would require actually getting information about those men. And after another hour of digging through the records here, Irelyn didn''t end up any closer to that than she was at identifying where Paige had come from in the first place.


    The men didn''t exist in the system as far as anyone here at the Seraphs, or the local police, had been able to determine. They had no records, no DNA matches, no fingerprint matches, no one reported them missing, and their pictures didn''t come up in any system. As far as any official records were concerned, none of them ever existed at all until they had appeared dead in that alley. In the year since they¡¯d been found, no one ever provided any information about them. They had been cremated after being stored for a few weeks. Which in and of itself was strange. They hadn''t been identified, and the mystery around their deaths wasn''t solved. So why had the remains been burned so quickly?


    She was able to find the first, initial medical examination of the bodies, noting stab wounds and broken bones, things like that. But the autopsies were missing. Anything that went into more detail about examining the bodies just wasn''t there. She found the name of the man who had performed the autopsies deep in one of the files. Honestly, Irelyn half-expected it to be a fake name. That was the way things seem to be going today, after all. But no, it ended up being real. Well, the man himself existed and was a coroner, anyway.


    Or, he had been a coroner. When Irelyn looked him up, she found that he had retired unexpectedly a month after those autopsies would have to have happened. He was only in his forties, yet he left a job in the medical profession, and as far as she could tell, he hadn''t been hired anywhere else. He lived alone at home. She checked his social media and found evidence of a fairly comfortable life. He wasn''t independently wealthy, but he clearly didn''t have to work anymore. And he definitely wasn''t spending all his money on medical school loans.


    This guy¡¯s name was Dale Carmen. And Irelyn was pretty sure it was time to pay him a visit. He was the only real name of a living person other than Paige herself that she had been able to find in this entire situation. Maybe he could give her some answers. It was the best lead she had. Maybe the only real lead other than the very flimsy Cassidy thing, which probably wasn''t even about the Evans girl anyway. Even if there was that whole thing about how Paige acted around-- no, focus. She had to focus. It was time to track down this doctor and find out what he knew.


    But that raised another important question. Should she confront him as herself looking for information about her new sister, or as Flea looking for information about a mystery involving unidentified dead bodies? There were pros and cons to either approach. In the end, she had almost decided that going as Flea was probably the best choice. It was possible that he wouldn''t want to answer questions about whoever had bribed him enough to let the man retire, and he was unlikely to listen to some ordinary woman on that subject. Flea could be more convincing, in multiple ways. Especially if she could make him think he could get in trouble.


    But no, even as she was talking herself into that, Irelyn realized there was a third choice. She could talk to the man as someone else entirely. He didn¡¯t need to know who she was at all. In fact, it was probably for the best that he never found out.


    With that settled, she used her phone to record copies of everything she had found, and put the records back. She made her way out, thanking the woman at the desk. As far as basically anyone here was concerned, Flea was simply following up on a tip some gang member had given her about a murder from a few months earlier.


    Maybe she was simply being too paranoid, but some part of Irelyn really didn''t want anyone to know she was looking into this so deeply. There was something very fishy going on here, and the more she dug into it, the less she trusted anyone. What the hell kind of cover-up had she stumbled onto just by checking up on her new adopted sister?


    Checking the address of that former coroner on her way out of the building, Irelyn stepped into her car and plugged the location into the GPS. He was on the outskirts of town in one of the newer subdivisions. Not the most expensive area, but not cheap either. According to the file, he had moved there just shortly after ¡®retiring.¡¯ Convenient, that. And definitely not suspicious for someone to do immediately after leaving their stable job for no apparent reason. Yeah, she was going to have a nice long discussion with this guy. Whatever he''d gotten into, whoever had paid him off, she would find out.


    It took about twenty minutes to reach the place in question, and she could immediately tell something else. In addition to being able to retire quite early, the man also had enough money to pay someone to keep his yard pristine. The grass was perfectly manicured, there were beautiful flowers blooming in the front garden, and she could see a man who probably wasn''t the one she was looking for, considering the uniform he was wearing, trimming the hedges along one side.


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    Seeing all that, Irelyn considered for a moment before pulling up alongside the house. There were a couple different ways she could play this, and another couple that were probably a bad idea with that witness nearby. In the end, she reached under the seat and took a food delivery warming bag out. She didn''t actually do that job, of course. But it was a useful way to walk up to her house and talk to someone when she didn''t want to appear in costume.


    After another moment of debate, Irelyn reached into the glove box of the car and took out the emergency Incogniter. It didn''t have a lot of power, but it would do for now, and it meant that if worse came to worst around here, she wouldn''t have her appearance ending up on official channels and have to explain herself. A quick click of the device as she snapped it onto her wrist, and she looked like a pale brunette who could probably stand to get some more sunlight.


    Stepping out of the car, she absently waved to the man tending to the bushes while heading up to the front door. He barely paid attention after seeing the bag in her hand. The way service people could become almost invisible was quite useful sometimes. Then again, something told her he could have said the same.


    Walking up to the door, she rang the doorbell and checked on the gardener out of the corner of her eye. Great, he was wearing headphones and she could hear the very faint hint of music coming out of it, a testament to how loud it must be for him. That was even more lucky. Maybe she could deal with this situation without drawing any extra attention after all. After everything she''d run into so far, and questions that had popped up, it would be nice for one thing to be simple.


    It took Dale Carmen about thirty seconds to answer the door. Just like the pictures she had seen on his social media, there didn''t appear to be anything special about the man. He was about forty-one, with a very slight paunch to his gut, dark blond hair that was very thinning on the top and long in the back, and a fairly average face. He wore a football jersey and sweatpants, blinking at her in confusion before seeing the bag. His head shook. ¡°Sorry, you''ve got the wrong address. I didn''t order anything.¡±


    Offering the man a quick, humorless smile, Irelyn calmly replied, ¡°That''s okay, there''s no food in the bag anyway. What there is is this.¡± Holding it up so he could see, she unzipped the thing and put her hand in on the pistol that was lying there. She let him see the gun pointed that way, shielded from the gardener''s view by the bag.


    Obviously, the former coroner jerked in surprise, his hand moving to close the door. But she slid her foot in first, keeping her voice calm. ¡°You''re fine, it''s all going to be fine. I need some answers from you, and then I''ll be gone. Now invite me in so we can talk. Unless you''d prefer I take my chances doing it the hard way.¡±


    It was just slightly possible that she had absorbed a fair bit of how criminals acted after spending the entirety of her teenage and young adult years dealing with them. Enough that she could fake it like this. And hopefully, if this guy did end up telling his story to anyone, no one would connect these blatant threats to her.


    She could see the man calculating his chances quickly before he relented and made a sweeping gesture with his arm, raising his voice just a bit in case the gardener could hear anything past his music. ¡°Would you mind coming in, I need some help setting up the table.¡± Yes, it was a ridiculous and stupid excuse, but she was pretty sure the other man couldn''t hear, and wouldn''t care if he did. All she wanted was to make sure he didn''t see her forcing this guy to let her in.


    And just like that, she stepped through the door and closed it behind her. Then she pulled the gun from the bag. She didn''t point it at him, but the implication was clear. She kept her voice calm and even. ¡°Okay, Dale Carmen, I need you to keep it together. Like I said, you''ll be fine. I don''t want to hurt you, and I don''t want to rob you. I''m here for information. Let''s go sit in your kitchen, shall we? Play along and I¡¯ll be on my way in just a few minutes.¡±


    Obviously, the man couldn''t really object to that. He let her into the kitchen and they sat at the table. She made him put his hands flat on it, just in case. Then she relaxed as much as possible and regarded him. ¡°I don''t think you''re the type of person who needs to think very hard about what sort of answers I could possibly be here for, so are you going to make me drag this out?¡±


    Dale gulped audibly before shaking his head. ¡°You want to know about those things that were found in the alley with that girl.¡±


    His choice of words made Irelyn frown. ¡°Those things? Is that what you call dead people?¡±


    The man barked a short, almost hysterical laugh. ¡°They weren''t people. Don''t you know that much already?¡± Seeing the look on her face, he sobered immediately. ¡°Sorry, sorry. I just thought you were further along than that. Yeah, I was the coroner who got the fantastic job of performing the autopsies on those things. And I''m telling you, they weren''t people. Not real people, not living people. I mean, the bodies were sort of living, but--¡± Stopping short, he held up both hands and started over. ¡°They were biological robots, flesh and blood with a machine inside controlling them. Definitely some sort of Touched-Tech. It was kind of like the old Terminator thing, except instead of a full metal skeleton inside, they just had a little metal orb about the size of a baseball. That little thing sent all these tendrils out through the body to control it. Believe me, it was pretty damn freaky.¡±


    The man leaned back in his seat, the expression on his face making it clear that he was reliving what it had been like to open those bodies up and see that. Finally, he gave a heavy sigh. ¡°I started to write all that up in my report and tried to contact my supervisor. But before I could, these other men came in. At least, I assumed they were men. For all I know, they were more of those orb people. They had guns too, and they told me that this whole thing could go one of two ways. Either they could kill me and fix a new report, or I could write the report they told me to, schedule those bodies to be cremated, and they''d give me enough money upfront to buy a nice house, then enough of a monthly stipend to live comfortably forever, as long as I didn''t go to the authorities.¡±


    Irelyn dropped her gaze to the table, considering all that for a moment. It was all she could do not to curse out loud. What the hell was all this now? She had just been checking up on her new adopted sister to find out why she was so standoffish and if there was anything she could do to help, and now there was a whole thing about artificial bodies with robot balls inside? This was bigger than she had thought. For a moment, she considered taking it to someone else, to the rest of her team. Silversmith could probably help get a lot more information. But something made her decide to hold off on that. She couldn''t even really explain what. It was just instinct. Somehow, she knew that going to anyone else was a bad idea. At least until she knew more. Because from the sound of things, this definitely wasn''t something simple. If whoever was behind this was able to make those artificial robot bodies so realistic that it took an autopsy to identify them, who else could possibly have been replaced?


    It was too dangerous to make assumptions right now. There were too many ways this could go horribly wrong if she trusted the wrong person. No, she was going to have to look deeper into this by herself. Or maybe, with her new sister. Paige had to know more about it. She had been found in the alley with those bodies. She-- wait. Wait a minute¡­


    The potential realization slammed into the woman like a truck. What if Paige herself was another of these artificial beings? Their father would absolutely be willing to buy one of those, no question about it. He had been so upset about Irelyn not allowing herself to be completely controlled by him that it was absolutely believable that he would go for a designer version next time.


    But what did that mean about Paige herself? Was she an actual person? And why had she been found with those bodies? And who was this Cassidy she said could help her? Was it really Cassidy Evans? Actually, some part of that made even more sense. If it was Cassidy Evans, that would mean that Paige was asking for help from the daughter of someone their father saw as a rival. Was there anything useful in that assumption?


    Irelyn wasn''t sure. There just wasn''t enough to guess yet. And she had a feeling that trying to guess would end up confusing things even more. No, she just had to get more information. And at this point, she was pretty sure the best way to do that would be to talk to Paige herself.


    She took another few minutes getting everything she could out of Dale, though it wasn''t much more than he had already said. He received an electronic deposit from a numbered account once a month with about five thousand dollars in it. Enough to live decently considering he didn''t have any house payments or rent to make. The house was paid off in full. And, of course, she was quite certain that if she did go to the bank, it would lead to a bunch of dead ends. No, her best chance of getting actual information about what was going on was from Paige.


    Some part of her briefly wondered if the girl could be trusted. After all, if she really was one of these artificial people, could she simply be controlled by whoever had made her? But no, she¡¯d been found with those bodies, and then¡­ damn it, she just didn¡¯t know enough! Yes, there was definitely something going on with Paige, that much was certain. Had she been trying to fight back? Had she been trying to escape and get somewhere safe, such as with the family of their father¡¯s rival? That could maybe work out.


    Yeah, there were a lot of holes in that idea too. But what it came down to was that she needed to talk to Paige. And she needed it to do it in a way that she could get all the information she needed without risking anything bad happening. Her instincts told her that Paige wasn''t a threat to her. But she still needed to be careful until she knew what was going on.


    Flatly informing the man that if he reported her being there, or said anything about having told someone the truth, the people who were paying him would probably just kill him, Irelyn rose from the table and took his number. She told him that if she or anyone called and said they should ¡®see that great western from that time at camp¡¯ and gave a time and location, he should go there because it would mean she needed to talk to him again. And, just in case he got any second thoughts, she reminded him of the danger he was in. These people, whoever they were, probably wouldn¡¯t hesitate to simply end the potential threat he presented if they thought there was any chance of him talking. Which did raise the question of why they hadn''t already killed him, but maybe they thought having a coroner, former or not, in their back pocket could be useful.


    Now¡­ now it was time to actually talk to Paige. She¡¯d done all the background research she reasonably could. Whether her new adopted sister was fully biological, or one of these creations, Irelyn was going to give her a chance to explain her side of everything. Somehow, she just didn¡¯t believe that Paige was some completely unthinking automaton. Maybe that was a stupid assumption, one she would pay for. But when it came right down to it, Irelyn would rather assume the best and be wrong, than assume the worst and be wrong. The damage she could do to Paige if she set out believing the girl was some sort of unthinking machine could be catastrophic. She would never get another chance to make that first impression. So, whoever and whatever Paige really was, Irelyn was going to start from the supposition that she could make her own choices.


    She¡¯d already lost her best friend because she didn¡¯t listen to Haley, didn¡¯t pay enough attention to who she was and what was going on with her. Irelyn wasn¡¯t going to make that mistake again. She would be careful here, just in case. But she wasn¡¯t going to make snap judgments.


    To that end, the woman spent the next week preparing for the conversation that needed to happen. She rehearsed what she could say, tried to think of various ways that could go wrong, and waited for an opening that wouldn¡¯t raise their father¡¯s suspicion. Some sort of opportunity had to present itself at some point.


    Finally, it did. The junior high Paige (and Cassidy for that matter) attended was let out early for some sort of heating system failure. It was cold and rainy outside, and the driver Paige normally relied on to get home was busy chauffeuring their father around.


    Obviously, the girl would simply have called for a rideshare. But Irelyn was quicker. She sent Paige a message, letting her know she was right across the street dealing with some old paperwork at one of the school administration buildings and that she would give her a lift home since she needed to take those files to their mother anyway to get her to sign them.


    Soon, she was watching and trying to seem as normal as possible as Paige stepped down into the car. Once the girl was buckled in, Irelyn surreptitiously hit the button that would silently hard-lock every door so she couldn¡¯t jump out. The windows were reinforced, there were no weapons within reach, and if the person in the passenger seat made any sudden motions that were interpreted as violent, they would get strapped down much more securely than the seatbelt. On top of that, the moment she pressed another button on the steering wheel, the car would be shielded from any cell phone or wi-fi signals, and would block every other method of eavesdropping on them that the Conservator-employed Tech-Touched had been able to plan for.


    Again, Irelyn believed Paige was her own person who was capable of making her own decisions. And that she would make the right one here if given a chance. But she also wasn¡¯t an idiot. Just in case something went wrong, especially if it was something outside of Paige¡¯s control, Irelyn would be ready.


    Now, she smiled that way as the thirteen-year-old girl buckled herself in. The rain was pouring down around them, but the front of the school was covered so Paige remained dry. ¡°Hey, was it cold in there?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± came the simple and clearly not-engaged response. Paige didn¡¯t elaborate on that, didn¡¯t even look at her. She just turned to gaze out the window as though waiting to go home. Without further prompting or outside influence, she probably wouldn¡¯t say another word.


    Well, here went nothing. Irelyn pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the street. She had rehearsed how to start this conversation over and over again, and never did settle on the perfect phrasing or timing. She was just going to have to jump right into it. So, once they were in traffic, she simply announced, ¡°I spoke to Dale Carmen.¡± Her finger had already hit the button to block off all signals and eavesdropping methods.


    The words struck home immediately. She could tell, by the way Paige finally stopped looking out the window and snapped her gaze over to her. Still, she tried for a flat, ¡°Who?¡± But her voice cracked just a little. Immediately afterward, her head twisted a little, as though she had just noticed something missing.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Irelyn informed her as calmly as possible. ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright. Let me tell you what I know. Someone out there is building artificial biological bodies and putting some sort of artificial intelligence in them, little computer orbs that control the bodies. You were found with some of those bodies after they were¡­ destroyed. Our father paid to hush up your involvement with that and to get the artificial bodies incinerated to destroy the evidence. I¡¯m pretty sure he also paid to adopt you and keep your past a secret, which I don¡¯t think he did out of the kindness of his heart. I think you were the payment to him from whoever is really responsible for creating those beings. I think our father decided the best way to make sure he didn¡¯t have another daughter become a disappointment was to buy one he could control.¡±


    Getting all that out, Irelyn pulled off the street and into a parking lot, shifting a bit to look that way. Paige, in turn, was staring at her with wide eyes, seemingly frozen in place. Seeing how frightened the girl was, Irelyn kept her voice soft. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I wasn¡¯t sure how to bring this up without¡­ without being direct. Maybe I¡¯m wrong about some of this, but I think I¡¯ve got the right idea. And I think that¡­ I think that you¡¯re caught up in the middle of this. I think our dad is a--¡± She stopped herself then. Going off about just what she thought of the man at this point wouldn¡¯t help anything.


    Instead, Irelyn turned the car off and turned in her seat to fully face the girl. ¡°Paige, listen to me. I believe you are a person. Wherever you come from, however you came to be, I believe you deserve the right to make your own choices and to be whoever you want to be. I don¡¯t know who created you, what his goals are, or what kind of person he is. But I know what kind of person my father is, and I want you to have better than that. I want you to have every chance you need. I¡¯m not here to capture you, or to expose you, or to hurt you. I¡¯m here because I think you¡¯re in trouble. I¡¯m here because no matter where you came from, no matter what reasoning our father had, you¡¯re my sister. If you¡¯ll let me, I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to make sure no one controls you again.¡±


    Holding up her hand between them, palm out, she added in an even softer voice. ¡°It¡¯s up to you, Paige. Will you let me help you?¡±


    There was a long moment of silence, before the other girl slowly put her own hand up and pressed it against Irelyn¡¯s. Their fingers interlaced like that, gripping one another. When Paige finally spoke, her voice was barely audible. ¡°Please, please. I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what we do,¡± Irelyn informed her while squeezing the girl¡¯s hand. ¡°We go get some ice cream.


    ¡°And then we¡¯re going to talk about everything.¡±

 Interlude 29A - Rubi

    ¡°But why do we have to move?¡± Emilee Nilsen protested while squirming in the back seat of the sedan that had been sent by Ten Towers to deliver the eight-year-old, her two older siblings, and Murphy (who was basically an older sister to the girl anyway) to what was apparently going to be their brand new home. ¡°I like our apartment. The people there are nice, and I didn¡¯t even get to say goodbye to all of them.¡± The small brown-haired girl, who seemed to be completely drowning in a large gray sweatshirt that was a couple sizes too big for her, pointed back the way they had come. Or at least, she tried to. The jacket was big enough that her hand had vanished entirely within the sleeve. And the motion made that sleeve almost smack Murphy as it whipped around before the girl quickly yanked her head out of the way. She and Roald were seated on either side of Emilee in the backseat, while Rubi was in the front passenger side next to their driver.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t get tah say g¡¯bye to Mrs. Donaldson, or Mr. Larris, or Benny and Clover, or--¡± she began to recite. Which, knowing the outgoing and almost dangerously friendly girl the way her siblings did, could amount to simply listing every single occupant of their entire building. And probably a fair number of the neighboring buildings as well.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Ems,¡± Rubi quickly assured her while turning a bit in her front passenger seat to look that way. ¡°We¡¯re not going that far, I promise. We¡¯ll go back and visit, and you can walk through the whole building telling everyone goodbye and that you¡¯ll come back and visit.¡± It was tempting for Rubi to tell the girl they never had to go back to that too-small, too-dangerous, rundown place again. But that would be a mistake. Emilee was right, the place had been their home for a long time. All her friends were there, every memory she had took place in that neighborhood. Emilee was too young to appreciate how dangerous the place was, how hard it was to keep it heated or cooled, how much they had to scrape and save only to barely get by month after month. She was a kid, with a kid¡¯s perception of things. As far as she knew, that apartment was a perfect, cozy little home, and now she was being forced to leave it behind.


    Roald gave a quick nod and put his hand on his little sister''s shoulder. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll go back. We''re still staying in the city, Emilee. And you can have some of your friends come visit as soon as we''re settled, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Rubi confirmed. ¡°You¡¯ll have your own room, and a yard to play in.¡±


    Shifting uncertainly at that little revelation, the younger girl asked, ¡°A yard? Like, our own yard? We''re not going to another apartment?¡± It seemed she had been under the impression that they would be going to a place roughly equivalent to the one they had been in. Of course, Rubi had explained what was going on before, but she was pretty sure her little sister hadn¡¯t been listening that well. She had been too busy dwelling on the fear of not wanting to leave her home.


    In that moment, Rubi couldn''t keep the bright smile off her face. Despite everything that had happened and all the dangers that were surely in front of them, this was the good part that would make everything worth it. ¡°That''s right, your own backyard. Wait until you see it. There''s a whole swingset and a big tree just for you. And your friends.¡± Truthfully, Rubi herself had only seen the place once on a quick walkthrough a couple hours earlier as the man from Ten Towers made sure it was acceptable. And boy was it ever that. She was still completely overwhelmed by all this. None of it had actually managed to sink in yet, and probably wouldn''t for a long time. She was a Touched now. More than that, she was going to be a member of Ten Towers.


    Only a couple days ago, she had been emptying trash cans as a simple no-name member of the housekeeping service for a law firm she almost certainly had had no chance of ever actually working as a lawyer at. The bills were piling up, she was a nineteen-year-old girl with three younger siblings to take care of and get through their own schooling, and things had seemed, if not bleak, at least not very bright.


    Now she had powers. And more importantly, she had a future. The people from Ten Towers were leasing this house for them, in a good neighborhood. She was going to be paid as a law clerk to look up cases for precedent, help write briefs, and everything else she needed to know about in order to actually get through law school. Speaking of which, she would be attending classes on that as well, to get an actual degree so she could take the bar exam. Sure, it would take quite awhile to get through while she was taking care of her other responsibilities. Very dangerous responsibilities in some cases. But it was more forward momentum in a single day than she¡¯d had in a long time. And more importantly, it was forward momentum with solid ground under her feet.


    Yeah, it was a lot. Putting all that together with the idea that they were moving to a new home already with very little warning and it was no wonder it all felt so overwhelming. But also good. It felt good. Rubi couldn¡¯t remember the last time she¡¯d felt so optimistic. It was¡­ it was weird. Especially considering the dangerous things she was going to be a part of now. And sure, she felt nervous about that. But she could handle it. She had a future now, a way to properly provide for her siblings and invest in her own future. No matter what happened next, that was so incredibly important. The whole idea of not having to worry about their heating or electricity being turned off, or having enough food in the fridge to stop them from slowly starving, was worth any amount of danger she had to throw herself into. At least she wouldn¡¯t be facing it on a half-empty stomach. Or worse, while knowing that her siblings could end up on the streets.


    That had been the most important point that Rubi made sure was included in the contract she signed to join Ten Towers. If anything happened to her, then Emilee, Roald, and even Murphy would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. They would be given an education, housing, helped to find jobs, anything they needed. That was what made this whole thing worth it, and the reason why she wasn''t nearly as worried as she had been, despite the added danger. Knowing that the people she cared about would be taken care of no matter what was worth more than she could possibly explain.


    By that point, the car had stopped in front of the house in question. To most people, it probably wouldn''t stand out at all. It looked like any ordinary middle class home, a two-story brick house with a simple front yard that had a single tree, a patio that wrapped around the front and left side of the building, and a fence that was low and chainlink in the front before switching to a taller wooden variety to encase the backyard. There was space for a flower garden under the windows in front, though nothing was there at the moment. Many might''ve called the place a little rundown even, just because it needed a new coat of paint and the driveway could stand to be repaved. But to Rubi, it was the single most beautiful and amazing house she''d ever seen in her life. Because it was hers. Yes technically it was owned by Ten Towers for the time being, but the paperwork had made it clear that the home belonged to her in every way that mattered. As long as she fulfilled her part of the contract, she could do anything she wanted with it. They could redecorate, renovate, anything and everything. They had space here, real actual space. All of them would have their own rooms, even Murphy. They had the yards, both front and back, a driveway, a garage, a full kitchen and dining room. Hell, they had a basement. There was nothing in it at the moment, but they had a basement! The whole idea made Rubi want to fall over laughing, and maybe crying a little. But happy tears.


    Together, they all stepped out of the car. Emilee was still a little hesitant about the whole thing, but seemed a bit more curious than she had before the whole idea of having an actual yard had come up. Now, she stared in awe. ¡°Is¡­ is that gonna be our house?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Ems?¡± Murphy coughed before reaching out to put both hands on the girl¡¯s shoulders to turn her a bit. ¡°That¡¯s the garage. That¡¯s the house.¡± She was suitably rewarded with an astonished gasp from Emilee, whose eyes widened in disbelief.


    That, right there, made the whole thing worth it. Yes, things were moving quickly. Yes, Rubi was throwing herself into all of this, she was agreeing to do some very dangerous things. But then, she had gotten into this by falling into something dangerous to begin with. This entire situation had started because she had almost managed to get herself killed by the Scions simply by walking through the wrong apartment building at the wrong time. Which proved there was no such thing as being perfectly safe. There hadn¡¯t been before she had powers and there certainly wouldn¡¯t be now. So she might as well have people around her who knew how to help with the dangerous situations that would pop up. And while she was at it, they might as well be the type of people who could put that expression on her little sister¡¯s face.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    And, of course, she couldn¡¯t forget about the Ministry. They were out there, still manipulating things, still secretly controlling who was given a break and who wasn¡¯t, who lost everything and who was given a free pass. They were beholden to no one except themselves, had no oversight, no one else to answer to. They hid themselves from the public while profiting off everything they did. She couldn¡¯t--wouldn¡¯t forget about that. Not after being on the side of the forgotten for so long.


    But for now, all that mattered was seeing more of that look. No, seeing more of those looks. Because the same wide-eyed expression of awe was written across Roald and Murphy¡¯s faces as well.


    ¡°Well, what are we waiting for?¡± Rubi prompted, stepping up to open the waist-high gate before gesturing to the house.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡±


    *********


    ¡°So, how are the kids liking their new place?¡±


    ¡°How are they liking it?¡± Echoing that as she walked through a utilitarian-looking cement tunnel a few hours after taking her family through their home, Rubi glanced over at the woman who had asked it. Her companion on this walk was an athletic-looking Asian woman in her twenties, with close-cropped hair that had been dyed white. ¡°I think they¡¯re probably still jumping on the beds, uh, Ms Caishen.¡±


    A snort escaped the woman in question. ¡°Yes, well, if they end up breaking them, let us know. I feel like we can¡­ spring for that.¡± She smiled a bit at her own pun before adding, ¡°And I told you, it¡¯s Natsuki when we¡¯re not in costume. You¡¯re part of the team, Rubi. We look after each other. Anything you need, even if it¡¯s just someone to talk to about the insanity you¡¯re bound to run into.¡±


    Even then, Rubi still almost referred to her as Ms. Quinlan, the woman¡¯s last name. She had to cough and correct herself. ¡°Ah, sure, Natsuki. Sorry, this is just--it¡¯s a lot.¡±


    ¡°Oh I know, believe me,¡± Natsuki informed her with a light chuckle. ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t see myself in this sort of position back before¡­¡± She paused, then shook her head. ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re supposed to be focusing on you. Remind me to tell you how I ended up here someday. Just make sure you have time and that we¡¯ve got plenty to drink.¡± With that added murmur at the end, she stopped as the two of them had reached the end of the tunnel and were standing in front of an elevator door. ¡°Right, so we started at the other end back there in the restroom of that old shoe store.¡±


    Rubi gave a short nod before stepping into the elevator with the other woman as a nearby red light turned green and the doors slid open. ¡°I guess the employees are your people? Do they all know who you are?¡± And by extension, she thought but didn¡¯t ask, did they now know who she was?


    Clearly understanding what she was getting at, Natsuki leaned against the wall of the elevator as it started to rise with a smooth whooshing sound. ¡°Only one employee, Mrs. O¡¯Hannigan. She can be trusted, I promise. She¡¯s also paid quite well to ignore you. Unless there¡¯s a problem. Then there¡¯s almost no Prev I¡¯d rather have on my side. Mrs. O¡¯Hannigan was a nurse in LA back in the nineties. Not a good neighborhood either. But she kept her apartment building safe. The gangs steered clear, because Nurse O¡¯Hannigan had a shotgun, plenty of beer bottles for her wicked throwing arm, and she absolutely did not fight fair. She retired from nursing after Touched started becoming a thing, and moved up here to be around her son when he went into college. Our people vetted and hired her, and now she watches over one of a dozen different tunnels we have scattered around the neighborhoods surrounding Towers Plaza. That¡¯s the one nearest your house. You can walk there within a couple minutes. I suggest you do so a few times and check out the nearby shops so people get used to seeing you in the area. Better if you don¡¯t stand out the next time you need to make an official trip.¡±


    By that point, the elevator had stopped. Once again, they had to wait for the red light on the wall to turn green, indicating that they had been scanned and identified. Then the doors opened, and they stepped into a semi-circular hallway. The floor was soft white carpet while the walls had wood paneling. Natsuki pointed to the left, then the right. ¡°If you go that way, you''ll find a kitchen with everything you need to make a nice meal, a locker room leading to a fully-equipped gym and sauna, and a pool with a hot tub. Go the other way and you''ll find our equipment room, entertainment lounge, and briefing room. The locker room is co-ed but there are individual, enclosed changing areas and showers. This entire floor is only accessible by members of our team.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said there were a dozen tunnels that the team uses to get up here from the outside,¡± Rubi pointed out while looking back over her shoulder. ¡°There''s only one elevator.¡±


    The older woman winked at her. ¡°Touched-Tech. Each tunnel brings you just barely within the plaza grounds. Well, underneath the plaza. Those doors you saw down there actually opened into a portal. You step through the portal and into the elevator, which is actually in the center of one of the towers. And trust me, that would be a much further walk if you had to do it on foot. That takes you up to this floor. Before you ask why we don¡¯t just step from the tunnel straight into this place--¡±


    ¡°Safety measure,¡± Rubi guessed. ¡°More scans to make sure you are who you¡¯re supposed to be. If not, it locks down.¡±


    Natsuki grinned. ¡°See, I knew you¡¯d do well around here. Now come on, I¡¯ll give you the full walkthrough and then we can check out the suit concepts some of the R&D people have been working up. I think you¡¯ll get a kick out of some of them. Have you thought at all about what sort of name you''d like to use?¡±


    Before Rubi could respond to that, there was a soft chiming sound and a young, excited voice rang out from some sort of unseen intercom. ¡°Mommy can we come see the new person? Kenny¡¯s really excited.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that would be my daughter. She¡¯s allowed here as well, but only with permission.¡± Natsuki glanced that way, hesitating slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she can¡¯t hear us right now. If you¡¯d rather she didn¡¯t--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Rubi quickly assured her. ¡°I don¡¯t mind. I--¡± She paused. ¡°I guess I don¡¯t know what her name is. Besides Lightning Bug. Wait, who¡¯s Kenny?¡±


    ¡°Well first, Kenny is Kenobee, her--well, bee. And as far as her name goes, there¡¯s another one on her birth certificate,¡± the other woman remarked with a light chuckle. ¡°But I don¡¯t think she¡¯d even recognize it, to be honest. Her name is Lightning Bug. Though she prefers LB.¡± The way she pronounced it came out like Elbie. ¡°Or just Bug. Speaking of which¡­¡± She turned toward the wall, raising her voice a bit. ¡°Intercom Reply. Come on in, Bug, she can¡¯t wait to meet you. And your friends.¡± She grimaced a bit after ordering the connection to end. ¡°Sorry, I guess I didn¡¯t actually ask how you feel about giant bugs.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll find out pretty quick!¡± With that, Rubi chuckled despite herself. Then she frowned. ¡°I just thought of something horrific. What would happen to your daughter if¡­ if her bugs were hurt? There¡¯s some sick freaks out there. And--well, accidents happen too.¡±


    ¡°And they are bugs, even if they¡¯re big ones,¡± Natsuki agreed. ¡°First, if those big bug bodies are broken, they pop apart and leave the little bug versions. And second, the insect friends are¡­ sort of templates. If they actually die, Bug can put that template onto another, identical insect. She transfers their memories, personality, everything into the new body. Before you ask, no one¡¯s ever actually intentionally hurt them. But it took awhile to fully understand how her powers worked, how strong they were, and¡­ well, other things. A couple accidents happened.¡±


    The sound of a lot of running feet filled the hallway then, before the small, red-skinned and white-haired little five-year-old came sprinting around the bend. She was accompanied by a neon-green beetle the size of a very large dog, a metallic purple bee as large as a cat, and a praying mantis that was over five feet tall.


    The girl skidded to a stop right in front of them. Her mouth opened, and yet as she looked up to meet Rubi¡¯s gaze, her nerve seemed to leap back out of her body, spin around, and retreat the way they¡¯d come. She froze, staring silently for a moment before immediately ducking behind the large praying mantis. Only once she was safely out of sight did her voice emerge. ¡°Um, h-hello, Miss.¡±


    ¡°Why hello there, to all of you.¡± Rubi politely greeted Bug as well as her friends. ¡°You can call me Rubi. Is it okay if I call you Elbie?¡±


    The very top of that little red face with the shock of white hair above rose just enough for her compound eyes to be visible. ¡°Uh huh. Rubi¡¯s a pretty name. Snugglebug likes it.¡± The nearby beetle bounced back and forth on either set of legs like an excited puppy.


    ¡°Aww, thank you, Snugglebug.¡± Rubi smiled, going down on one knee and reached out to pat him on the hard shell, which he seemed to enjoy. As the colorful Kenobee hovered closer, she gently brushed her fingers over him as well. ¡°You know, I could use a little help. I¡¯m supposed to come up with a superhero name, and I¡¯m just having a little trouble. I bet you know a lot of good words. Can you share some?¡±


    It started out with Elbie simply responding to her from behind the mantis, whose name was Simminin. Gradually, she came out into the open, and even started walking with her mother and Rubi to tour the facilities. By the time the tour was over, she had helped give the newest member of the Ten Towers Touched team her name.


    And very soon the world would be officially introduced to Flurry.

 Interlude 29B - Lightning Bug

    ¡°You have to take really good care of them, Aunt Hana. Please make sure they''re okay? They get nervous when I¡¯m not here.¡± With those pleading words, the diminutive five-year-old Lightning Bug (Or LB/Elbie) stared up at the girl in question.


    Some people thought that because her eyes were compound like a bug¡¯s, it meant she saw lots of different images like a wall full of TV screens. But it wasn''t like that at all. The image that was sent to her brain didn''t look that different than what other people saw, at least as far as she could tell from how it had been described. It was just one image. Each little part of her compound eyes was like a different lens on a camera, but her brain put it all together into one picture. It did mean that she had really good peripheral vision. Hehehe, peripheral. That was a fun word. She liked fun words. Peripheral. Her mom had shown her what the word meant in the big dictionary when the doctor had said hers was so good. She could see almost all the way around herself, except for the area directly behind her. And she could pick out really good details about everything. Instead of having only one area of focus, her vision focused on everything in its wide line of sight at the same time.


    But there was a bad part too. She had really good side-vision, but her forward vision wasn¡¯t so good. The doctor said she could only see about half as far as an unpowered, average human.


    Of course, she could see Aunt Hana, known to the rest of the city as Skip, just fine. Not that they would have recognized her if they¡¯d seen her as well. All those people only knew her when she was in her costume, when she was in disguise. Right now, she wasn¡¯t, so she just looked like lots of other Asian teenagers.


    Orrrr maybe not lots. Bug¡¯s Aunt Hana tended to dress super-different than the teenagers Bug had seen on TV or when she went out with her family. Those teenagers wore lots of tee-shirts and jeans and hoodies and things. But Aunt Hana almost always wore full suits, or at least really nice slacks (slacks, she liked the word slacks, it was fun and even if Mr. Mornes said the Pokemon Slaking wasn¡¯t named after them, she still liked to think about one of them wearing pants because it made her giggle). And--wait what was she thinking about? Aunt Hana! She wore slackings (hehehehe) and a crisp shirt with shiny buttons. If they were doing something really fun or relaxing that day, sometimes she didn¡¯t wear a tie or even had short sleeves. This was one of those days. Her shirt was dark blue with black pants and comfortable shoes. Which was good, cuz Bug was pretty sure the trio she was going to be babysitting today were gonna keep her really busy.


    They were a handful sometimes. But they were her handful.


    Hana didn''t dismiss her tiny niece''s concerns. She met her gaze and responded with the exact same seriousness and sincerity she would have given while in the middle of an important mission with her Star-Touched team. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re safe, and entertained. We have the food you set out for them, and the movie you picked. At eleven o¡¯clock, I¡¯ll take them for their walk. At eleven-forty, they get lunch. Another walk at one o¡¯clock. And they like to listen to Dolly Parton and Elvis songs while they eat.¡± She paused briefly before finishing with, ¡°When the movie is over, they like to watch Minecraft videos on the playlist your mother set up. But Snugglebug needs his eyes covered and his shell patted when spiders show up.¡± She recited all of this solemnly, exactly as she would have while repeating serious orders for combating a Fell gang¡¯s plot.


    ¡°Thanks, Aunt Hana!¡± Bug took a quick step forward and embraced the older girl. She was shivering just a bit from nerves, clearly uncertain about what was coming. And not just because she was leaving her friends behind for what would be hours.


    Returning the embrace more easily than she would for most, Hana replied, ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay. You¡¯ll have fun.¡± Her voice was flat and seemingly uninterested, but Bug knew that was just the way Aunt Hana talked. She really did care, but emotions simply weren¡¯t something she tended to show very much. And she didn¡¯t say things she didn¡¯t mean. If she said it would be okay and that Bug would have fun, it was because she really thought that.


    ¡°Here,¡± Elbie carefully reached into her pocket and took out what had once been a toy sheriff¡¯s badge. She had put a small white sticker across part of it and used a blue marker to carefully write, ¡®Osficial Insect Babysitter.¡¯ Only afterward did she find out she¡¯d written the first word wrong, but that was okay. After all, she wasn¡¯t sure Aunt Hana could really be called official anyway. What if you had to get a real license for that, like when you wanted to drive? She didn¡¯t want to make Aunt Hana break the law with a counterfeit official badge. So Osficial was good.


    ¡°Alrighty, Buggy.¡± That was her mother, coming into the living room with a backpack over one shoulder. Like Aunt Hana, she wasn¡¯t wearing her superhero costume. Instead, she had a black shirt with the Tasmanian Devil on it, along with shorts, a blue baseball cap over her short white hair, and a backpack over one shoulder. Nobody would ever recognize Bug¡¯s mom as Cash-in. ¡°Do you have your incogniter? Let¡¯s see it.¡±


    Lightning Bug immediately held up her arm while bouncing cheerfully once more. ¡°Uh huh, uh huh! See, it¡¯s my in-cog-neater. Mommy, does neater mean even more neat than neat?¡± Attached to her small red wrist was what looked like a simple bracelet. One touch of her thumb against the bottom of it, however, made the device come to life. Which, in this case, meant surrounding the girl with a holographic disguise. Immediately, she appeared to be a small five-year-old Asian girl, utterly unremarkable in every possible way. That was the point, of course. She was in disguise, like a spy. You weren¡¯t supposed to stand out when you were in disguise. Unless standing out was the disguise. But she wasn¡¯t supposed to stand out. And she definitely wasn¡¯t supposed to let anyone know who she really was. That was why Simminin, Kenobee, and Snugglebug had to stay here. Even if they did really want to go out too. People always noticed them. ¡°Neat, neater, neatest. Is there an in-cog-neatest?¡± She gasped out loud with realization. ¡°In-cog. Cog. Cog is like a machine. Is that what it means, Mommy? In-Cog-Neater. A neat machine inside!¡± She gave a bright, beaming smile then, delighted to have worked all that out.


    Her mother laughed while replying, ¡°You know, maybe we do need to pay someone to build an incogneatest, before someone beats us to the punch.¡± Her hand reached down to ruffle the girl¡¯s hair. Which, of course, also served to check that the expensive and very advanced incogniter could continue to disguise her even through the physical contact. Once she was certain it would hold up, she gestured. ¡°Tell the tribe you¡¯ll see them later, Elbie. We need to get going if we¡¯re gonna get there in time.¡±


    Turning to her trio of giant insect friends, Bug took a moment with each of them. She promised she¡¯d be back soon and that they could have fun with Aunt Hana for the day. Speaking firmly, yet gently, the small five-year-old made the three promise to be good, told them she loved them, and gave each of them a hug. She also made sure they all knew where she was putting her brightly-colored computer pad that was covered in heavy plastic, with a link to her equally-colorful emergency phone. If anything went wrong, or they got too lonely, they could push the big button in the middle of the screen and it would call her so she could talk to them.


    Finally, once she was satisfied that her friends would be safe and entertained, Bug took her mother¡¯s hand and walked out of the apartment with her. They took the elevator down to the basement and headed for the car. On the way, Bug¡¯s mom gently squeezed her hand and looked down at her. ¡°Does it still itch?¡±


    ¡°Just a tiny bit, Mommy,¡± Bug assured her. She¡¯d had problems with incogniters before. The smart science people said it was because she pulled in ¡®ambent¡¯ (was that the word?) energy to make her shocky-sparks that hurt bad people and helped good people. She kept pulling in the energy from the hologram thingie and it made her itch. And usually broke the in-cog-neater. But this one was better.


    ¡°Good, good.¡± Ruffling the girl¡¯s hair, Bug¡¯s mom added, ¡°Doctor Lara said she shielded it. That little itch should go away once it adjusts to you a bit. You tell me if it¡¯s still there once we get to the arcade, okay?¡± She waited until the girl agreed, then opened the back seat and let Bug clamber in.


    Situating herself and buckling up, LB looked over at her mom and offered a bright smile. ¡°Don''t worry, Mommy, it''s gonna be so much fun. You can be a superhero and help ever¡¯body most of the time, but right now, you can just be Mommy. Unless a scary thing happens buh-cuz then you hafeta go stop the bad guys. But right now there¡¯s not bad guys so you don''t gotta be worried until there are. You have frowny face.¡± She put both her index fingers against her own lips and pushed them down to turn her face into a frown, before pushing them back up into an admittedly somewhat demented-looking smile. ¡°You should be smile-face cuz we''re gonna play an¡¯ that¡¯s a smile thing!¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Smiling at her daughter, LB¡¯s mother reached out to touch her face. Her hand was warm and she snuggled up into it. ¡°Oh, my little Buggy. Yes, today is definitely a smile day, and we¡¯re absolutely going to have fun. Let¡¯s go see your new friend.¡±


    ¡°Do you think she¡¯s gonna be busy with superhero things?¡± Elbie asked a little uncertainly.


    ¡°She better not be,¡± her mom assured her.


    ¡°Or Avant-Guard is gonna be so grounded.¡±


    *******


    As soon as Bug and her mother parked and started to walk across the lot (holding hands tightly, of course), they both saw a red-haired girl bouncing up and down in front of the massive arcade complex, eyes darting eagerly back and forth in every direction. She was a few years older than the girl who was already pulling at her mother¡¯s hand. ¡°Mommy, Mommy, that¡¯s her! That¡¯s the--¡± She almost said ¡®in-cog-neater¡¯ but stopped herself from blurting that out in public at the last second. Instead, she settled on, ¡°--that¡¯s Tee!¡±


    Bug had been instructed very carefully about what she should call her new friend. They had to keep their secret identities safe, so Trevithick would be Tee, and she would be Elle. It would be easy for her to remember Elle from Elbie. And since they had to help Tee keep her own secret identity, Bug¡¯s mom was letting the girl borrow one of the Ten Towers in-cog-neaters for today. One of Trevithick¡¯s friends had picked it up from the front desk downstairs for her earlier, and now here she was!


    Despite her excitement, Bug knew the rules very well. She stayed right with her mother, hand in hers as they crossed the parking lot. Only once they were standing on the sidewalk did she look up at her mom pleadingly.


    ¡°Oh ohhhkay.¡± Her mother played up the reluctance, but Bug could see the hint of a smile and heard the amusement in her voice. ¡°I suppose you can go say hi.¡±


    With a delighted squeal, Bug ran straight to the girl in question. She had to be careful to keep her wings down. They might have been hidden by the disguise, but it would be hard to hide her flying off the ground. No matter how much fun this place was, people would probably notice that. Even if it just made them ask what booth she had gone to inside to get a toy like that.


    If anyone had been watching them very closely, they might have seen a very slight flicker in their respective images as they collided in a tight hug before the incogniters adjusted properly. But, of course, no one was paying that much attention. They were simply two other children excited to be at the enormous, two-story high arcade, just like any of several hundred more who were already inside, or currently making their way there. This front area itself was surrounded by an assortment of enormous statue figures of various video game characters, as well as the mascots for the arcade itself. In the center was a fountain with multi-colored lights, which were more impressive in the dark. A few children were playing in the water before running over to one of several drying stands that had been set up. The drying stands looked like simple arches. When you walked through them, you and your clothes would be instantly dried. They were really neat. Which, of course, Bug had to show Trev immediately, pulling her along with a quickly-babbled, ¡°It¡¯s really cool drying thing but you gotta get in the water first or you¡¯ll already be dry then they don¡¯t do anything but that¡¯s okay cuz the water is fun!¡±


    Giggling at first as she started to follow after Bug, Trevithick pulled up short just before they went into the fountain spray. ¡°Oh, uh, is it okay to get the things wet?¡± She sounded worried, holding up her own wrist to show the matching bracelet there.


    LB, who had been pulled back by her grip on the other girl''s hand, started to respond eagerly. ¡°Uh huh, it¡ªuhh... Mommy?¡± That came as she pivoted to face the woman in question. She knew it was safe, but she couldn''t quite figure out how to explain that without saying the stuff she wasn''t supposed to say in public where the wrong people might overhear.


    Her mom, in turn, walked right up to them and addressed Trevithick fondly. ¡°Well first, good afternoon. Elle and I are both so glad you could make it. Aren''t we, Ellie?¡±


    Impatiently, the five-year-old bobbed her head. ¡°Uh huh! So glad, but also so dry! Too dry!¡±


    A chuckle escaped her mother before the woman agreed. ¡°Yes, you''re so very dry. But it''s okay if your jewelry gets wet. It won''t break.¡± She was focused on Trevithick then. ¡°That case it''s in protects it, I promise. You could jump in the middle of the ocean and it''d be right as rain.¡±


    Bug giggled at that despite her eagerness to play in the water. ¡°Mommy, you said ocean and then rain.¡±


    With an audible, exaggerated noise of uncertainty, her mother put her hand to her chin. ¡°Oh? What do those have in common?¡±


    ¡°Theeeeeeeeeeey''re water!¡± Bug cheerfully and loudly announced. With that, she sprang right into the middle of the nearest line of water from the fountain. Immediately, her words turned into a squeal as she was quite thoroughly soaked.


    Trevithick, for her part, waited just long enough for Bug''s mother to give her an encouraging nod. Then she sprang right after LB. The two of them danced through the fountain, laughing and squealing under the cold water along with a dozen other kids of varying ages. For about ten minutes, that was enough. They hadn''t even gone into the actual arcade yet, but this was already fun! Especially when they started up a quick game of tag through the sprays of water with the other kids. Somehow, without actually saying anything out loud, everyone knew the rules. If you were hit by water, you had to change direction and run the other way. Which meant whoever was It could easily catch you.


    Eventually, Bug led Trevithick over to the drying stands and showed her how you could walk right through the arch and come out dry on the other side. They played with that a bit, running back into the water, then through the arch a couple times just to try it out. But soon enough, the lure of going in and seeing all the actual games was too much. So, each of them took one of Bug''s mom''s hands, and they walked through the front entrance together.


    ¡°Holy popsicles,¡± Trevithick gasped out, stopping short just inside the door. The front foyer of the arcade was so loud and bright. Straight ahead were three Dance pattern games. Down the left side was a row of loud arcade fighting machines and shooting games, while the right-hand side held the games you got tickets for, like skiing ball and mini basketball. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs filled the air. Above them they could see the railing around the second floor, where even more games were. Bug knew the ones up there were the more expensive, experimental games. But the most expensive ones were the virtual really games. Those were in their own rooms at the back of the arcade, past a man who made sure you were allowed to go in there. Those rooms were all labeled. Some of them were okay for everyone, but other rooms were off limits unless you were a teenager, or even an adult in some cases.


    Seeing that her new friend was really overwhelmed, Bug stopped herself from dashing to the nearest machine. Instead, she stepped in front of the older girl, taking her hands. ¡°It¡¯s okay, T! We can play anything you want. There¡¯s a Ninja Turtles game, an¡¯ a Superman game, an¡¯ oh oh there¡¯s those table hockey games with the disc an¡¯ the flat thing you hold onto and hit it wif! An¡¯ an¡¯ fwooshball!¡±


    ¡°Foosball,¡± her mother corrected gently, before focusing on their guest. ¡°But she¡¯s right, anything you want to do today. Don¡¯t worry about anything else. Today is a vacation.¡± She reached out, putting a finger under the girl¡¯s hologram-disguised chin to tilt it up so she could look into her eyes. She did that to Bug all the time. When she wasn¡¯t picking her up to look at her. But that was probably a no-no right now. Bug¡¯s mom was really nice, but Elbie didn¡¯t think Trevithick would want to be picked up like that.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re a busy girl,¡± her mom said softly, her voice quiet enough that Bug could barely hear her. ¡°But you don¡¯t have to think about any of that for awhile. We¡¯re gonna turn that part of our brains off and just have fun, okay?¡±


    There was a slight hesitation before T straightened a bit and gave a firm nod. ¡°Okay!¡± She mimed a key-turning motion against the side of her head. ¡°It¡¯s all locked up. No more thinking about that. We can play. But¡­ but where do we start?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I think I¡¯ve got a few ideas of what you girls might like,¡± Bug¡¯s mom assured them, taking both of their hands before starting to walk again. ¡°After all, I used to come here when I was a little girl.¡±


    With an audible gasp, LB blurted, ¡°They had video games all the way back then?!¡±


    Looking over her shoulder, her mother squinted at the girl. ¡°Just how old do you think I am, squirt?¡±


    Bug, in turn, shrugged. ¡°I dunno, maybe like¡­¡±


    Whatever she had been about to say was cut off as Trevithick clapped a hand over her mouth, giving a weak giggle toward Bug¡¯s mom. ¡°Uhhh hehehe, I¡¯d love to see the games you used to play, Miss.¡±


    Seeing the way both girls were snickering, albeit muffledly in Bug¡¯s case, her mom shook her head and turned back to start walking with them once more. ¡°Oh yeah.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna be a great day.¡±

 Interlude 29C - Austen

    The meeting was set for midnight. So, naturally, Austen made her first pass around ten o¡¯clock. She didn¡¯t go into the place, an old apartment building, on that pass, of course. That would have been idiotic. And she didn¡¯t walk past as herself either. Not as either of herselves, in fact. She wasn¡¯t Deicide and she certainly wasn¡¯t Austen. No one who saw her would have recognized the girl who strolled by casually while seeming to focus more on her phone than where she was going. Mostly because the appearance she was using was a random setting on a rather expensive incogniter she had liberated some time ago. The thing was worth a pretty penny, as were the special batteries it liked to eat through. So she didn¡¯t use it much. But this was worth it.


    Granted, she didn¡¯t think this was an intentional trap on Skip¡¯s part. If she had, Austen never would have even thought about showing up. But for all she knew, the girl was being followed or tracked somehow. She didn¡¯t trust those people she worked with not to figure something out and set up a trap. Even though Skip had promised not to say anything about who she really was, the mere mention that she had interacted with her and might again could make them try something.


    Austen wasn¡¯t willing to take that risk. So, she went past the building once as a blonde girl on her phone, a second time fifteen minutes later as a boy with a basketball who very nearly sent it through a window on an out-of-control dribble (which gave her the chance to check the reflections for anyone who had been on the opposite side of the street while she was passing the first time), and then a third time thirty minutes after that as another boy arguing with his girlfriend on the phone (a different one than she had used while passing the first time).


    Only then, after those three first passes spaced over about an hour revealed nothing of interest, did she switch her appearance to yet another holographic setting and make her way into the building. That time, she looked like a pizza delivery girl (Austen had left the pizza boxes themselves behind a dumpster in an alley earlier to use as a prop for just this purpose), checking an address on her phone before heading in. That gave her the chance to walk all the way upstairs, checking each floor to see if anything untoward stood out either to her eyes or her powers.


    Nothing. There was nothing at all. Even when she switched to a fifth identity in the public restroom and took yet another pass all the way through the place, she couldn¡¯t find any indication that there were any Ten Towers or law enforcement people anywhere nearby. Well, that wasn¡¯t quite true. One of the third floor residents was a cop, but he seemed to live there judging from the exhausted argument he was having with his kids over whose turn it was to take the trash out. So either this trap was far more elaborate than she was willing to give them credit for, or it was (so far) on the up and up.


    Even then, she didn¡¯t go straight to the apartment they were supposed to meet in. Not only was it still only about eleven-twenty, but she didn¡¯t plan on being in the room when Skip got there anyway. Instead, she went to the apartment on the floor below. She had already done her research earlier, found the name and number of the man who lived alone in that place, and sent him tickets to a basketball game he wanted to see, with some letter about him winning a fan contest. They were good seats, so he hadn¡¯t asked too many questions.


    All of which meant the apartment below their meeting spot was empty tonight. It only took her a second to break in through the flimsy lock. Faster than using a key, probably. She went straight through, shut it behind her, and turned to find a spot to wait forty-five minutes until--


    ¡°You¡¯re later than I expected.¡±


    The voice was flat, its speaker sitting on a recliner on the other side of the small main room. She was illuminated by a nearby table lamp, giving Austen a good look at her face. Or at least the top half, considering the bottom was covered by a black cloth mask. Even then, she was also wearing a dark hood that covered the top of her head. Austen could essentially only see her eyes and forehead. Eyes and a forehead which had half a dozen papers shaped like knives flying straight at them before she had even finished that single sentence.


    ¡°Skip,¡± Austen snapped, stopping her reflexive attack in that instant. The paper blades hovered there, as she glared. ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡±


    Seemingly paying no attention to the near-attack (and why would she, considering she could just be immune to them), Skip replied in a simple, almost monotone voice. ¡°We planned to meet tonight, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    Austen let the papers fly back to her pocket, disabling the incogniter. There was no point, Skip had seen her unmasked face already, back when that Scion culero had attacked the mall. She squinted that way. ¡°Yes, we were supposed to meet. In forty-five minutes, and up one floor.¡±


    Skip¡¯s reply was as dry as ever, though Austen thought she could detect the faintest hint of amusement in it. ¡°Then I presume you got lost and also don¡¯t carry a way to keep track of time.¡±


    Looking around the room and taking in the clearly bachelor-decorated space for a moment, Austen finally sighed and snapped her fingers. A flurry of papers launched themselves from her pockets and formed up into a chair, which she sat down on. ¡°Okay, I guess I¡¯m impressed. For the record, I didn¡¯t do anything to the guy who lives here.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± came the easy response, ¡°I upgraded him to box seats.¡±


    Pushing away the slight smirk that crossed her face at that, Austen cleared her throat. ¡°I guess that means this whole thing wasn¡¯t an elaborate set-up to trick me into breaking into someone¡¯s home so you could arrest me for that and thus keep your promise not to say anything about the whole Fell-Touched thing.¡±


    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t,¡± Skip agreed. ¡°Although there are people out there who would be happy to see you in prison. Or juvenile detention,¡± she amended after a moment of consideration. Then she focused on the girl across from her. Austen felt the intensity of her stare. ¡°You¡¯ve hurt people. And allowed people to be hurt. People have died because of orders you¡¯ve given or allowed to be given.¡±


    ¡°Is this meeting meant to be a lecture?¡± Austen asked, keeping her own voice as flat and emotionless as the other girl¡¯s. ¡°Because I know. Believe me, I know exactly what I¡¯ve done, what I¡¯ve let happen. You can believe me when I say I did what I could to curtail the worst of it or not, it doesn¡¯t really matter. I¡¯ve still let bad things happen. I¡¯d like to think I had more noble intentions at the start of this. Not fully noble, not good. I came into this with a selfish plan, but I thought I could at least control things. Right now, I can say things would be worse without me. My lieutenants, they would¡¯ve been harder to control, harder to keep in line. If it was up to them to decide which was in charge, they would have gone to war over it. But that¡¯s not an excuse. I know what I did. I tried to make things safer, better in the territory I control, but people still got hurt. People still died. There¡¯s bad shit out there, and I¡¯m not a hero. I¡¯m selfish as fuck. I did this whole thing for revenge. I want to hurt someone, because he hurt my family. But I needed an army to do it. Now--¡± She paused, frowning as she leaned back in the paper seat. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s not as much of an army right now. Not with those traitors.¡± She said the last word with as much venom as she could put into her voice.


    ¡°The person you¡¯re targeting, it¡¯s Cu¨¦lebre, isn¡¯t it?¡± Skip guessed, head tilting just a bit when Austen¡¯s gaze snapped that way. ¡°It wasn¡¯t difficult to work out. Only a few people would require an entire army, as you put it, to take down. Especially for someone of your power. If he was just a man, you could have dealt with him by yourself without all of¡­ that. And the rivalry between your two gangs is fairly public. I am capable of basic arithmetic. He¡¯s been your target, and now he¡¯s even further from your grasp after you were betrayed. Your group has¡­ problems. I assume they¡¯re in no condition to carry on a full-scale war at this point. Or at least not particularly eager to.¡±


    Reaching into her pocket, Austen retrieved a pack of Skittles and emptied a few into her hand before popping them into her mouth. Only after she had chewed and swallowed the candy did she reply. ¡°Do you have a point with this, or is it just your way of rubbing it in? Or maybe you¡¯re just trying to bore me with--¡± She stopped, leaning forward just a bit to squint that way. ¡°... Are you wearing a toy sheriff badge?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°No,¡± was the flat answer. ¡°It¡¯s an insect babysitting badge. My niece gave it to me. I like it, so I wore it tonight.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it like, living like that?¡± Austen wondered aloud. ¡°The kid¡¯s so obviously different, she can¡¯t go anywhere without some elaborate disguise. Like one of these.¡± She tossed the incogniter bracelet up and down a couple times thoughtfully. ¡°But that means no casual walks outside, every time she does anything in public it has to be planned and careful. If she¡¯s out as herself, you or her mom have to be in disguise. Not hard to figure out that whoever¡¯s with the famous red-skinned, white-haired girl with bug eyes is one of her relatives. If she¡¯s seen with someone in public, that person gets a microscope put on them. Can¡¯t casually have friends over, can¡¯t tell anyone where you live, not really. Not if they aren¡¯t in on the secret.¡±


    Skip met her inquiring gaze. ¡°If you¡¯re asking if I resent my niece, the answer is no. She¡¯s worth all that and more.¡±


    Austen smirked to herself. ¡°You know, if anyone else was saying those words in that voice, I¡¯d say they were very bad liars. But you¡­ what¡¯s your deal? Why do you sound so¡­ disinterested all the time?¡±


    If she was offended by the question, Skip didn¡¯t show it. But then, that was the entire point of the question to begin with. She simply replied, ¡°I have a form of Alexithymia along with mild Autism. Would you like me to explain what Alexithymia is?¡± She waited for the other girl to gesture for her to ahead before continuing. ¡°A loose translation of the term is ''no words for emotion.¡¯ Broadly speaking, it refers to a person who has difficulty identifying their feelings, and differentiating between normal bodily functions such as being tired or hungry, or emotions such as sadness or anger. There is more to it, but in my case, it means I¡¯m often too distracted analyzing and deciphering my own emotions to express them. Think of it as if someone poked you in the arm, and you had no reflexive reaction. Instead of moving your arm immediately or retaliating, you first had to consciously think, ¡®I¡¯ve been poked.¡¯ Then consciously think, ¡®The poke happened in my arm.¡¯ Then, ¡®It was my right arm.¡¯ Then, ¡®Someone has poked me in my right arm.¡¯ Then, ¡®I should look to see who it was.¡¯ By the time you look, the feeling of being poked has faded. I do feel emotions, but in a different, more analytical way than you. There¡¯s more to it, but it¡¯s hardly relevant to the discussion at hand.¡±


    ¡°And what is the discussion at hand?¡± Austen mused, watching the other girl closely. ¡°First you said something about an offer, then you had to run off to help deal with that Scions emergency. I mean, the other Scions emergency. Now I¡¯m here, and unless one of those fucks is about to crawl out from under the couch and start something, no more distractions. What offer?¡±


    There was a moment of silence before Skip began to explain. ¡°Perhaps unsurprisingly, I¡¯d like to convince you to cease your operations as a villain and change sides.¡±


    Snorting at that, Austen retorted, ¡°Maybe it¡¯s escaped your notice, but you defend the system. I don¡¯t particularly like the system. The system screwed over a few too many people just because they don¡¯t happen to be born lucky. And I mean that in more ways than I could possibly explain to you right now.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t doing anything to help the system, or those affected by it,¡± Skip pointed out mildly. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ve helped a few within your territory, but they¡¯ve simply exchanged one type of problem for another. Gang violence and crime still exists in the areas your people control.¡±


    ¡°As if it would be better if I wasn¡¯t controlling things?¡± Austen shot back before catching herself. ¡°It¡¯s like I said, all my lieutenants would still be doing that shit if I wasn¡¯t there. But they¡¯d be doing worse things. I put a stop to more than you know. I protected my people. No, it wasn¡¯t perfect. Yes, I did bad things and let bad things happen. But better bad than worse.¡±


    Skip replied very plainly. ¡°There are people who were hurt or whose loved ones are dead who would disagree with how well you handled those issues.¡± She held a hand up to stop Austen from retorting. ¡°But that is only tangential to the point. Your situation is now worse than it was. The odds of you, in your gang¡¯s current state, being capable of challenging Cu¨¦lebre any time soon are low. He has solidified his position and weakened yours. Worse, the new gang he has traded members with will be likely to ally with him in any open conflict. He has the ability to call in favors.¡±


    ¡°So, to counter this, I should switch sides and come help you people?¡± Austen¡¯s tone made it very clear how little regard she held for such an idea. ¡°Even if I was inclined to do something like that, something tells me a few people might have a problem with it. Unless you expect me to help you from inside a prison cell.¡± She paused briefly before adding, clearly unseriously, ¡°Or maybe that was your plan from the start. Convince me to try to switch sides and then whoops I¡¯m in jail.¡±


    ¡°I notice that none of your rebuttals involve talking about how much you love crime,¡± Skip replied, her eyes watching Austen¡¯s. ¡°Your reasoning for doing all of this wasn¡¯t to get rich, or to have power over others. You want one thing, to stop Cu¨¦lebre, or hurt him, or¡­ more than that. But that¡¯s what you¡¯re after. If you wanted money, there are plenty of ways to get it that don¡¯t involve being in this much danger. Especially given that little ¡®reading what¡¯s written on any paper in your vicinity¡¯ power. You could have exploited that to get all the money you¡¯d ever need and not let anyone know. Getting passwords, secret information to sell, any of that would be a piece of cake. You wanted Cu¨¦lebre. And now, as I said, he¡¯s even further from your grasp than ever.¡±


    Holding out the bag of Skittles toward the other girl, Austen coolly replied, ¡°And you¡¯re telling me that you can make that happen? I should just come over to your side and watch everything I did as Deicide get magically forgiven?¡±


    Skip took the bag, emptying a few candies out into her palm. She regarded them briefly while shaking her head. ¡°No, Deicide can¡¯t be forgiven. She has to die.¡±


    Austen stiffened briefly, then stopped and frowned. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a threat.¡±


    Raising the candies to her mouth and carefully sliding her fingers under the cloth mask to eat them without exposing herself, Skip shook her head. ¡°No, it was not. I said Deicide has to die, not you. Ten Towers can provide a body for that.¡±


    The idea made Austen laugh. ¡°So we fake Deicide¡¯s death, then--what, I show up five minutes later with the exact same powers? I think even the slowest people in this city might figure that one out.¡±


    ¡°I take it you¡¯ve never heard of reincarnation.¡± After saying that, Skip gave the girl a chance to react incredulously before continuing. ¡°Not of a person. Look here.¡± She reached down to the table where the lamp was, picking up a computer pad before passing it over.


    Austen squinted at her for a moment, then exhaled while taking the pad. Reading things manually always took so much longer than just allowing her power to do it. She scrolled through the open file, sitting up a bit through the process while making a soft, thoughtful noise.


    Finally, she cleared her throat. ¡°So according to this, when a Touched dies, their power invariably shows up somewhere else within a short time.¡±


    ¡°Their power or a very close approximation of it,¡± Skip confirmed. ¡°Ten examples in that file, and there are plenty of others. It hasn¡¯t picked up mainstream understanding yet because they tend to appear on opposite sides of the country, or even on separate continents. Between that and the fact that different Touched tend to express and use the same power in different ways, with different costumes, it¡¯s easy to get lost. But Ten Towers operates in all these places. We accepted power reincarnation as a fact some time ago. Power Recycling, some call it.¡±


    ¡°That raises an awful lot of questions,¡± Austen noted. ¡°But let me guess, Deicide dies in some big public way, leaving a body behind to be identified. Then somehow I pop up somewhere else and Ten Towers, realizing how useful someone with that power could be, drops by to play recruiter.¡±


    ¡°That does sum it up,¡± the Star-Touched confirmed. ¡°And what better time to do that than during a lockdown like this? We can smuggle you out of the city. You make yourself known far away from here, playing rookie Touched. Show the same powers, but pretend you barely know how to use them. And do so in different ways than Deicide did. Once the lockdown is lifted, our people will bring you to the city, and you can work with us. No longer a criminal, no longer hunted, and with the full resources of our organization to help you deal with Cu¨¦lebre.¡±


    ¡°You know, for Star-Touched, you all seem remarkably fine with letting me get away with the bad things I did,¡± Austen noted curiously.


    Skip met her intense gaze unblinkingly. ¡°We look for the bottom line, the best option. In this case, you could accomplish far more, both for us and for the public good, if your energies were turned toward something productive. Locking you up stops you from hurting more people. Converting you does the same, but also puts your gifts to a better purpose. Given your enemy is someone we would also like to be stopped, that¡¯s¡­ I believe what they refer to as a three birds with one stone situation.¡±


    With that said, she rose from her seat. ¡°That is the offer. Take some time, mull it over. Whatever you decide, my promise stands. I will not expose your identity or other secrets until or unless you continue criminal activities and are captured separately as part of that. Now, since we¡¯ve finished early, perhaps you¡¯d like something to eat?


    ¡°After all, you might still be hungry considering you threw away that pizza.¡±

 Solution 30-01

    The almost oppressively-loud roar of ten motorcycle engines filled the air as the bright, neon-colored racing bikes went tearing through a very long, yet narrow alley that was barely wide enough for them. They hit a puddle partway through, sending up a spray of water each time their tires ripped through it. Each of the bikes carried a single rider, wearing dark leather and black helmets with heavily-tinted visors. They were wearing backpacks that were heavily-laden with the stuff they had just snatched and grabbed from an antique bookstore. The police car that had been right behind them came to a screeching halt at the entrance to the alley, unable to fit through. These guys had planned their escape route well.


    Unfortunately for them, there was one thing they hadn¡¯t counted on. Me. Even as the cop car came to a halt, I went sailing past it after using blue paint to launch myself off the nearby traffic light. Corkscrewing through the air, I waited until I had just started to lose momentum, then extended my hand to shoot a bit of red at a spot on one of the walls as far down the alley as I could. It hauled me that way, leaving me barely out of reach of the spray of water as the last of the bikes hit that puddle. Inverting in the air just before I would have collided with that spot on the wall, I disabled the red and used a bit of blue on my shoes. As my feet hit the brick, I was sent rebounding off that, having already oriented myself toward that nearest bike. I hit the rider with a shot of orange while activating the same on myself. When we collided, the man was knocked clean off the bike and sent crashing into the opposite wall. That probably would¡¯ve been enough to kill him if it wasn¡¯t for the orange paint. As it was, he would be stunned for a few moments. Hopefully long enough for the cops, who were just getting out of the car, to deal with him.


    In the meantime, I wasn¡¯t exactly letting myself hit the wall too. I had almost gone right over the bike after slamming into the driver, but a quick shot of red against the distant handlebar yanked me back that way. It was a bit awkward, but I managed to land on the bike and keep it going. My hand twisted the throttle to make it keep up with the rest of the bikes, whose riders hadn¡¯t quite noticed what happened to their friend yet.


    Hopping up to plant my feet on the wobbly seat while bending forward to maintain my grip on the throttle, I aimed with my other hand and sent out several quick shots of paint. The first was orange, hitting the back of the man directly in front of me. That was followed by a shot of green in the same spot, and I mixed them together. In the next instant, I released the throttle of the bike I was on and leapt forward while pointing my hands out in opposite directions. The first sent a shot of red at the front of the bike I had just been on, while the other sent an identical shot at the back of the bike in front of me. The paint activated, ripping the motorcycle out from under that second man while the bikes were sent slamming into one another. Just as that rider screamed and went pitching straight toward the ground, I activated the green-orange paint, giving him as much protection in that instant as possible. He hit the ground and lay there, probably more in shock than pain.


    Meanwhile, my momentum sent me sailing over his prone form, where I could see the third man in line starting to turn to look over his shoulder. Apparently he had heard the scream and the collision of those two bikes. Which gave him a nice view of my extended hand as I hit him in the visor with a shot of white paint, followed instantly by green. The combined effect created a blinding flash inside the visor before he could start to raise the pistol he had reached for. He jerked in response, losing control of the bike and tipping it over. I managed to hit him with a quick shot of orange so he wouldn¡¯t end up killing himself in the process, as he went sliding through the alley on the side of the bike. It sent up sparks, the metal screaming in protest.


    I had already started to lose my own momentum by that point, but as I came down right over the sliding bike, I hit the side of the thing with a blue-green puddle, activating it just before bringing my feet down on that spot. Instantly, I was rocketed up and forward. In that moment, the fourth man, who had realized what was going on and aimed back over his shoulder with a pistol of his own, opened fire. But the orange paint I had activated on myself right before crashing into that first man was still active. Between that and the protection Wren had built into my helmet, it just felt like someone bouncing a couple pebbles off my visor.


    Still, that didn¡¯t erase the fact that he had been trying to shoot me in the head. So I might¡¯ve been just a little too satisfied as I hit his rear tire with a shot of pink paint and activated it, immediately flattening the whole thing and making it collapse in on itself in a way that sent the man flailing backward off the whole bike. And yes, I did protect him with a bit of orange. But maybe not as much as I would have used if he hadn¡¯t just tried to kill me.


    He¡¯d survive, but not without some bruises.


    By that point, I¡¯d managed to land against the brick wall, skates out so I wouldn¡¯t lose any momentum as my gravity-boots kept me in that sideways position. I went rocketing along that wall. On the way, my hand snapped out to red-paint a gray trash can lid up into my grasp. The fifth guy was shifted in his seat with a sawn-off shotgun held tightly in one hand as he brought the barrel to bear. Just as he pulled the trigger, I painted the metal lid pink and immediately canceled it. When the spread of shotgun pellets hit the now very-bouncy lid, they immediately rebounded off it. My supernatural aiming ability allowed me to position the lid just right so that the pellets tore through the wheels of the man''s bike, completely demolishing them. The bike lost control and went crashing into the wall, sending the man tumbling head over heels. Like with the other guys, I gave him just enough paint that he wouldn''t break his neck in the process.


    Five down, five left. Halfway done. The sixth guy, barely ahead of the one who had just eaten shit when his own shotgun blast destroyed his tires, sent a couple wild pistol shots over his shoulder in my direction. But I had already blue-bounced off the wall and sent myself flying over to the opposite side. He tried to track me with his gun without really looking, and I made him pay for the distraction by flinging that trash can lid at his wrist like a frisbee. It smacked the gun right out of his hand, even as I immediately rebounded back off that opposite wall and flipped backwards through the air. While he yelped and shook his wrist, I literally landed right in front of his motorcycle, facing backwards so we were face to face. Or helmet to helmet. I was holding onto his handlebars while the wheels of my skates ensured that I continued to roll very quickly. The man froze like that, even as I used one finger to hit his chest with an orange blotch. At the same time, a winking smiley face appeared on my visor. With that, I used a mixture of blue paint on the ground to give myself a boost up, and purple paint on my legs both to maintain enough arm strength to spin myself around in midair, and for that extra oomph as my feet collided with the man¡¯s chest, skates out. The impact knocked him backwards off his ride, while I dropped into the same spot he had just been.


    With a thought, green paint appeared over the bike, and I triggered it. Suddenly it was going much faster. Fast enough to basically instantly catch up with the seventh guy, who had been sending wild, unaimed shots backwards over his shoulder. Just before the bikes could collide with one another, I dumped this one on its side while lunging off it. The thing¡¯s speed sent it right up under the next bike¡¯s rear tires, throwing the rider forward. Before he could hit the ground, I used a shot of red to send myself over him, snagging the back of his collar with one hand. I used that physical contact to give him just enough orange paint that he wouldn¡¯t turn into a smear as I released his collar and let his new momentum send him right into the wall.


    Releasing the red paint, I twisted sideways and let my skates hit the wall while a whoop of exhilaration escaped me. The eighth guy actually managed to aim enough over his shoulder to bounce a bullet off my shoulder. Sure, I still had orange paint going so it just stung, but still. It was the principle of the thing.


    I didn¡¯t let him get another shot off. One hand sent a spray of red while the other sent blue. Rather than targeting the man or his bike, however, the colors struck the ground just ahead of him and immediately mixed. When his tires hit that patch, it was as slippery as a thick bit of ice. He lost control, the bike immediately swerving as the man screamed.


    Just before he would have crashed, my leap took me directly over him as I sent a new shot of red down onto his back. He was yanked upward into my red-painted glove, before I used my still-boosted strength to give the man a hard shove back the way we¡¯d come. As he went flailing toward the ground, I used one more quick shot of red to send him flying into the wall. He would be stuck there for ten seconds. Hopefully long enough to stop him from easily escaping before this was over.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    All of that came while I was still flying forward through the air after rebounding off that opposite wall. Now I hit the first one again, my skates click-clacking loudly along the bricks.


    It had only been a few seconds since this whole thing started, and we were already near the end of the long alley. They¡¯d come into the alley with ten riders, and now two were left upright on their bikes. Both of whom were very aware of me by that point. Still, they were more interested in escaping than in fighting back, probably seeing it as a lost cause. They gunned their engines and took off just as they hit the opening at the end of the alley. Or rather, tried to. Because at that very instant, as I was skating along the side of the wall, I managed to hit both of them with a wide spray of yellow paint. Instantly the bikes were going about half their usual speed. But, of course, I hadn¡¯t hit the men themselves with the paint. So they were sent flying forward off their rides and out onto the sidewalk beyond the alley. At the last second, just before they would have hit the concrete at that speed, I sent another wide spray of paint. This one was pink, turning the ground into a softer, play-doh-like substance. Both men collided into it and were half-buried in the stuff.


    Flipping off the side of the wall, I skated in a quick circle around the men before coming to a halt. Immediately, I thrust both hands in the air and gave a wild shout. ¡°Whoooooo! Did you see that?! That was freaking awesome! I mean holy shit! That was so goddamn cool! The alley was like this narrow and you were all zipping through it like neeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrr vroooooooooom vrooooooooom while I was like boing boing whoosh! That was so freaking dope! We--¡±


    Only then did I realize who I was talking to, and that there was an audience starting to gather. Immediately, as my face blushed under the mask and helmet, I cleared my throat and tried to find something better to say.


    ¡°I dunno, guys,¡± I found myself blurting while shaking my head in put-on disbelief, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure motocross is supposed to be offroad, so this entire training course might¡¯ve been pointless. Let¡¯s try it again, but this time we¡¯ll go somewhere with a lot of rocks and tree branches to smack you with. I know just the place. There¡¯s this awesome jump over a ravine at the end to land back on the freeway, you¡¯ll love it. Round two when you get out of jail?¡±


    For some reason, these guys didn¡¯t seem all that interested in the idea, though the civilians sure were. What the thieves were interested in was extricating themselves from the putty substance that the concrete had been turned into. Unfortunately, with their arms and legs buried as deep as they were, they couldn¡¯t pull free before the pink paint wore off and the cement solidified around them. Now they were really stuck. And that just made the two start cursing even more creatively and loudly than before.


    Soon, the cops had caught up. I handed over the rest of the bags that these guys had dropped, then helped get them out of the concrete with a little more paint. Once they were all nice and secure in the back of a few police cars, I waved to the assembled crowd, gave them a few quick autographs, and took off. Sure, I would need to do all that paperwork and deposition stuff with the judge at some point, but right now it was nice to just be able to leave. I was too distracted to focus on all that mundane stuff.


    It had been three days since I had dinner at the Jacksons. Three days since I had seen that list fall out of Maki¡¯s pocket, and I still didn''t know what that was about. Why did they have a bunch of names of people including me? Why did my name have a question mark next to it? It wasn''t the only one, at least. But that didn''t exactly calm my nerves. Some of the names were crossed out while others had those question marks. And I had absolutely no idea what that meant. I had no idea whether it was a good or bad thing to be on the list. I was going to go with bad in general, because in my case it meant someone was paying attention to me. I really didn''t want anyone to pay attention to me. Especially someone with some sort of connection to the Ministry.


    Sure, I still didn''t know what sort of connection that was, exactly. But just the fact that there was a connection at all was enough to make me even more anxious. I¡¯d secretly watched their house late these past few nights, trying to figure out the right move. So far, the only thing I¡¯d been able to find out was that Maki¡¯s parents left the house each night and drove off. I followed them a couple times and found them meeting with Kent Jackson at a different restaurant on both occasions. They just had coffee or dessert and talked for an hour, passing papers back and forth. Nothing I could grab or get close enough to see, though it did seem to be a regular thing.


    I had been taking a run through the city to clear my head after spending hours helping out at the shop with putting the ¡®grab Pittman and get answers out of him¡¯ machine together. Then I saw the cops chasing those motorcycles and managed to tune the scanner in my helmet enough to pick up the gist of what was going on. That was another useful thing Wren had installed.


    At the very least, that chase was enough to distract me from obsessing over the list thing, and the situation with my parents. The situation with everyone who was affected by Sleeptalk. But now it was over, and I was back to obsessing. As I bounced clear over one roof to land on another, using my skates to slide right across it before coming to a stop with my hand against an air conditioning unit, all those thoughts kept rebounding back-and-forth through my head.


    Should I just find a way to talk to Maki directly about it, either as myself or as Paintball? I really had considered simply handing over the paper, telling them I found it on the seat, and asking what it was about. If nothing else, that seemed like what a completely innocent person would do. What if there was some very simple explanation for it? Maybe all they were doing was trying to choose a new tutor or a lab partner or something? Yeah, that didn''t make much sense, because who would want me for a tutor? Or anything else for that matter. And they didn''t even go to our school, so that kind of ruled out the lab partner thing anyway.


    I had looked up the other names on the list as well, the ones I didn''t recognize. Some of them I found social media pages for, and others I didn''t. Of what I could find, not even all of them were high school aged. There were some who were older. None out of their twenties as far as I could tell, but still. And then there were a few who were even younger, those in junior high. Only a couple that young, yet that also threw off the whole tutor thing. And it wasn''t a rich person list either, going by some of those names. They all seemed completely random. So why was my name on there? Why was I on a list that someone working for or with the Ministry was keeping? This would have been confusing enough without that added bit. With it, I couldn¡¯t help but feel my anxiety try to tear its way through my chest.


    At least it wasn¡¯t a worst-case scenario, probably. It couldn''t be someone trying to find out who Paintball was. Especially not as any official act with the Ministry. First, if those people had even the slightest idea that I might be Paintball, my life would have been over already. And second, there were too many people on that list that didn''t fit the physical description in the least. They were far too tall, far too old, and some far too voluptuous. There was no way anyone would look at the people on that list and think all of them had the slightest chance of being Paintball.


    Yes, that was a bit of a relief on one hand. Okay, it was a massive relief. But it still left me confused. I really had absolutely no idea what it could possibly be a list of.


    I had talked to Paige about it. I¡¯d needed someone to bounce my thoughts off of, even if it still felt too much like sharing information that wasn''t mine to share. She, in turn, wanted to get the answers out of Maki no matter what it took. I reminded her that we couldn''t do anything too direct or risk drawing Ministry attention.


    Besides, I absolutely did not want to hurt Maki. She had agreed immediately about the hurting thing, and flatly informed me that she had been talking about breaking into their house to snoop around. I still wasn''t sure that was a good idea with the extra security the Ministry probably had around. And the fact that Maki had had the list on a piece of paper meant they were probably being careful about using computers, so it wouldn''t be as simple as just letting Paige or Sierra hack into their computer to find the truth. We would have to physically look through everything we could find in that place. That would take a while, and we had no idea what the situation inside the house was like. Yeah, I was pretty sure it was the same sort of layout as the Jacksons, but that didn''t mean much. Actually, it meant there was a lot of space to search. And who knew how many people were inside at any given point? I wasn¡¯t sure if they had household staff, or relatives. Even with Maki¡¯s parents going out every night, there was no way of knowing if the house was empty. Hell, Maki themself was taught by tutors, so it wasn¡¯t like I knew their schedule for certain either.


    No, it was obvious that if we wanted to search that place, we were going to have to be a bit more careful and sneaky about it. And that, of course, was when a possible answer struck me. Tilting my head thoughtfully, I ran it through my mind before using the voice control in the helmet to call Paige. She answered after a couple rings, asking if there was anything wrong. Standing up to look out over the street below, I replied, ¡°No, actually, I think I''ve got an idea about how to look into that whole Maki situation without exposing ourselves too much.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s time for the group who broke into the Ministry base at the mall to make another appearance.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 24 (Part One)

    How Is The Ministry Preparing For What They Believe Will Be The End Of Unified National Governments? (This takes place prior to the Sleeptalk situation)


    ¡°Yes, thank you, Edward,¡± Sterling Evans graciously announced while leading a dark-skinned man with an expensively-tailored suit to the double doors of the conference room. The two of them, along with Sterling¡¯s wife and a dozen others who had already filed their way out, had just spent several hours going over the details of an alliance with a Korean car company. ¡°I¡¯m sure our friends in Seoul will be just as interested in Mr. Khumalo¡¯s acquisition as we are. Give them--let¡¯s say twelve hours to wake up and review the documents, then arrange a call so we can go over the particulars.¡± He offered the man a smile and a handshake. ¡°By this time tomorrow, it should all be arranged, and you deserve all the credit for pulling this deal together.¡±


    After shaking the man¡¯s hand and thanking him again, Sterling watched him go. Once Edward was out of earshot, he murmured under his breath to the unobtrusive figure who had been standing nearby the entire time. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely certain about this?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Christiana Diaz, known to the Evans household staff as an assistant chef, to the people around this building as a nearly-invisible office drone they could never quite remember the name of, and to the Ministry leadership as the assassin Plan Z, assured him. ¡°Edward Mawers definitely stole the idea for contacting Friedrich Khumalo and proposing an acquisition of his mine from Missy Lansworth, his immediate subordinate, and silenced her with the threat of releasing pictures taken from her time as an exotic dancer to pay for university. She put the pieces together, he swooped in and blackmailed her to retain credit. And then, to ensure she never spoke up, he manufactured a reason to have her fired two weeks ago. He covered his tracks decently, but not well enough.¡±


    Sterling considered that for a moment in silence, before nodding. ¡°Okay then. I gave him a chance to come clean. Now we do it our way. First, I want all of his evidence of Ms. Lansworth¡¯s previous career removed from his possession and destroyed. Second, Edward is to be immediately transferred to another position. I believe assistant mailboy at our new branch in Guntersville, Alabama would be more his speed. With an appropriate drop in pay, of course. He¡¯ll threaten to quit, and when he does, we¡¯ll gently remind him that the terms of his employment stipulate he cannot work for any other company in any of the fields we cover until the end of the remaining ten years of his contract. If he proceeds to violate that agreement, we will, of course, pursue him legally and ensure no company will come within a hundred miles of hiring him for fear of being caught in the blast radius. Otherwise, he can either spend his remaining contracted time in purgatory and see how many of our competitors want to hire someone after a decade of mailroom duty, or quit early and take a job somewhere that doesn¡¯t violate our agreement.¡±


    ¡°Given the scope of what this company works with, that may be difficult,¡± Christiana pointed out mildly.


    ¡°Yes, I suppose it would,¡± Sterling agreed. He smiled very faintly before continuing. ¡°As for Ms. Lansworth, contact her immediately and offer Edward¡¯s position, as well as the standard signing bonus for a new executive. Tell her she¡¯ll also have an additional ten thousand if she can make it here in the morning to be on the call with the people from Seoul, with all her notes on the subject. I¡¯m sure she kept them.¡±


    With that attended to and Christiana off to take care of it, Sterling took a moment to politely ask one of the nearby receptionists to ensure he and Elena wouldn¡¯t be disturbed for the next hour, while they went over the financial details of the agreement. Then he closed and locked the conference room doors before turning to face his wife, who had been working at her computer on the far side of the long table. ¡°You were right, Edward never would have found that mine on his own, or realized the opportunity it presents.¡±


    ¡°No, he wouldn¡¯t,¡± Elena agreed, closing her laptop before focusing on him with a fond smile. ¡°But then, the mine is hardly the point. Missy Lansworth speaks four languages and was able to deduce that this mine existed and its location before any official details emerged, simply by observing where certain materials and personnel were being transferred to by their local government. And she did it from over eight thousand miles away, by following the paperwork. She¡¯s a very impressive young woman. One we need to keep close at hand for C-Day.¡±


    C-Day, or Collapse Day. Sterling and Elena firmly believed that there would come a time, perhaps not soon but at some point, when Touched abilities would become so prevalent and powerful that the national government would be incapable of maintaining order over such a large area. At this point, smaller nation states would emerge, cities and their surrounding areas functioning autonomously under the rule of the most powerful group. In the case of Detroit and its suburbs, that would be the Ministry. They had been preparing for this off and on over the past two decades. When the time came, the people of this city, and their resources, would be protected. The Ministry would function in the open then, rather than remaining in the shadows as they did now. There were those on both sides of the ¡®Fell¡¯ and ¡®Star¡¯ line who would come together to protect Detroit from invaders. The time for playing cops and robbers would be over, as useful as those fights were for training purposes. And for those who couldn¡¯t be part of that¡­ well, they would be removed.


    All of which meant they would need the best and brightest people to ensure the future Detroit functioned properly. They needed people like Missy Lansworth, not those who stole credit from them like Edward Mawers.


    Holding a hand out to his wife, Sterling casually offered, ¡°Speaking of preparations for the future, shall we see how our diminutive friends are doing today?¡±


    Elena accepted the hand up with an easy nod, a fond smile finding its way to her face. ¡°Oh yes, dear, I believe we should. Yellowbrick?¡± She spoke up while touching a bluetooth earpiece. ¡°If you¡¯re not too busy, it would be just lovely if you could provide a bridge over to Construction Site Congo. That¡¯s where they¡¯re working today.¡±


    No sooner had she requested that, than Sterling opened the nearby door into what should have been a supply closet. Instead, it led to the familiar amber pathway through a void to another door. The two of them thanked Yellowbrick before heading over the bridge. They would return before anyone noticed they¡¯d even left the conference room.


    Coming through the opposite door, Sterling and Elena found themselves in what would appear to be a subway station. There were some very important differences, however. For one, this station and the tunnel it was attached to were much deeper than most subways. They were over two miles underground at this point. This network of tunnels, once they were finished, would encircle the entirety of Detroit while also crisscrossing back and forth over key portions of it, with entrances allowing one to emerge within a few blocks of any part of the city. In the end, it would look like a spiderweb of tunnels and shafts leading to the surface.


    The platform itself was about fifty feet wide and almost as long. There was a space mapped out where the official entrance would one day be, but for now those who came here used various other methods of arrival. Oxygen was provided through heavy-duty pumps from the surface, disguised as innocuous things up there such as air conditioning units.


    Scattered all across the platform were slumbering dogs attached to wagons full of equipment and tools. They were well-fed and cared for, not only by the Ministry, but by their owners. Owners whose incredibly small forms could barely be seen bustling about. Hundreds of termites, who were all very busy preparing these tunnels using their unique ability to disintegrate material and create new structures out of it. Structures that were needed to make the tunnels function properly. Because these weren¡¯t simply long holes in the ground, and there would be no actual ¡®train¡¯ to carry people around. When they were complete, a person would simply be able to step into the tunnel and be carried through an invisible propulsion field to any other part of the city nearly instantaneously. Not quite as quick or convenient as Yellowbrick, of course. But they couldn¡¯t expect her to handle transportation of that scale. She deserved a life of her own, even if she was¡­ well, who she was.


    In time, these rapid response tunnels would allow the Ministry to deploy entire troop squads to anywhere in the city within a few minutes. It would take quite some time to finish such a system, however. For now, what mattered was ensuring the termites were safe and happy here.


    They were assets. And whether it was a brilliant woman who had been blackmailed into giving up credit and her position, or a hive of intelligent TONI insects whose first introduction to humanity had gone tragically poorly, Sterling and Elena Evans were not the type to throw away useful assets.


    After all, the time would come when those would be in very short supply.


    *************


    A Couple Touched Reactions To Paintball Versus Pencil


    ¡°Would you like a drink to celebrate, sir?¡± The tall, almost anorexically-thin Latina woman named Samara Vargas, asked politely. To most people, she would have been completely unrecognizable. After all, the woman known publicly as Yahui normally only appeared with a mixture of various animal features. Her power allowed her to manifest any number of animal traits across any part of herself, rendering a costume or other disguise essentially unnecessary.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Seated on a pile of cushions, Cu¨¦lebre (or Danilo Taca as he had been known before Touching), stared intently at the computer screen on the wall, and the action going on there. ¡°And why would I want to celebrate, precisely?¡±


    Samara cleared her throat a bit, glancing that way as though to assure herself she hadn¡¯t hallucinated the events on the screen. ¡°It looks as though Paintball is about to get himself killed by Pencil. Given your annoyance with the boy, I assumed--¡±


    ¡°You assume I would cheer the death of a child at the hands of a sociopath, simply because I¡¯ve quarreled with him in the past?¡± Cu¨¦lebre interrupted. ¡°Perhaps you believe my ego so fragile that simply being embarrassed by videos of our past conflicts would lead me to wish for his dismemberment, torture, and beheading?¡±


    He didn¡¯t give her time to respond. ¡°I may wish to embarrass the boy in kind, even harm him in the course of a fight if necessary. And yes, I may have lashed out in anger in the heat of the moment. I may even do so in the future. But if you believe I am the type of person who would cheer on someone like Pencil, you truly do not know me at all. You--¡±


    In that moment, Cu¨¦lebre paused, giving the screen another look. Paintball had acquired one of Pencil¡¯s own guns, and seemed to have actually managed to hurt the man, against all odds.


    ¡°You know what?¡± he announced with a small smirk on his demonic face, ¡°I changed my mind.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that drink after all. This just became interesting.¡±


    --------


    The steady whirring sound of a moving treadmill, punctuated by the thump, thump, thump of feet rapidly coming down on it, filled the living room of the man known to the public as Kriegspiel. In his private life however, the six foot five figure with long, graying hair that made him look like an aging rock star was called Joel Weiss. Having turned fifty recently, many also would have said he was getting too old to run around dressed up as a superhero, getting into the sort of scrapes that came with that sort of life. Fortunately, his power allowed him to enhance the physical abilities of people around him, including himself. It meant he could function as well as someone two or three decades younger.


    Besides, if anyone did bring up the subject, he would only need to point to the nearby television screen as an answer to why he continued to play an active part in the Touched world. It was frozen right now, paused since he couldn¡¯t bear to look at or hear it at the moment (despite having seen how it turned out several times already). On that screen was the steady image of Paintball barely escaping yet another attempt from Pencil to kill him. One more out of dozens that had taken place within that room the boy had been trapped in.


    That boy couldn¡¯t be older than thirteen, maybe even younger. And he had been trapped in that room with a psychopath who wanted to torture and kill him while livestreaming the event. Yes, it had worked out for the best in the end. But Paintball shouldn¡¯t have been alone in there. If he was there at all, it should have been with help.


    Which was the real reason for why Joel would continue to do this work no matter how old he got, no matter how silly he felt at times. He would do it because the younger generation, people like Paintball, needed to have people there who could help them, who could have their backs¡­ even if actually being there wasn¡¯t always possible.


    As long as his power compensated for his age, Joel would go out there every night and do everything he could to stop situations like the one on that screen from happening again.


    Now if only he could wrap Paintball in enough bubblewrap¡­


    ************


    Paintball Meets Drive (This takes place during the three day time skip between the previous arc and the current one)


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, if we wanna stick to the time table, we¡¯ve gotta pick up the pace.¡± Three men were standing around the store they had broken into, with one of them hurriedly grabbing expensive antiques to put in the box one of the other men was holding. At the same time, his other hand was motioning for the third guy to get moving. ¡°You know what happens if we¡¯re late.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, ooh!¡± The response came not from the man¡¯s companions, but from a smaller figure in a jumpsuit covered in various images in different colors. The newcomer had just sprung feet first through a narrow window in a corner of the room that barely accommodated him. ¡°Do you turn into pumpkins!?¡±


    Even as the three men were turning to react to that, Paintball crashed feet first into the one who had been talking, taking him to the floor. ¡°Wait, no,¡± he lamented while rolling forward off the man he had just left wheezing on the ground, ¡°the carriage became a pumpkin. So that would mean you guys turn back into mice?¡±


    The man who had been doing nothing quickly started to pull a pistol out of its holster at his side, but just as he started to take aim, Paintball pointed that way without even looking and sent four rapid shots of red in the same motion. The first hit the gun, the second his chest, the third a cash register, and the last struck the wall behind the man. The weapon was immediately torn from his grasp and sent into that wall. At the same time, the cash register was yanked off the counter it was resting on and sent flying into the red mark on the man¡¯s chest. The impact made him double in on himself and collapse to the ground near his companion, who was still struggling to catch his breath from that first kick.


    The last guy, who had been standing there holding the box of precious antiques, took one look at what was going on before simply heaving the box toward the Star-Touched. ¡°Eh, I¡¯m not all that into old stuff anyway!¡± With those blurted words, he spun to run out of the room as fast as he could go.


    Considering where they were, it wasn''t hard for Paintball to realize what was in the box. He immediately triggered spots of blue on his shoes to spring up and over the thing while it was being flung at him, pointing down with his hand to send a wide spray of orange paint that completely covered every object inside. The box slammed into the floor, but the paint kept the antiques perfectly safe, and would disappear in a few seconds anyway, leaving them untouched.


    Not wanting to just let that guy get away that easily, Paintball smoothly landed that flip and chased him out of the building. In the distance, he could already see the man jumping into the back of a van. There was some sort of shouting going on, an argument. Rather than give them time to settle it, he immediately shoved the door shut behind himself and used a quick shot of pink paint against part of the door and the wall before pushing them together with one hand so it wouldn''t open easily. Hopefully that would keep those guys in there busy so they wouldn¡¯t just be able to walk out and disappear.


    By that point, the van had started up and was pulling out. Before it could get away, Paintball ran that way and leapt up with help from blue paint before sending a shot of red at the roof. The van was just picking up speed as he was yanked that way. He''d rather take the men inside by surprise instead of immediately being shot at through the roof, so he used a shot of black to silence the metal just before landing on it.


    Okay, now he was on the van. He just had to use a bit of pink on the metal there to make a hole, drop inside, and--


    It was a good thing he was using red paint to stick to the van, because in that second, the thing took off. It didn''t simply start to pick up speed. It instantly vanished into a tunnel of rapidly-shifting neon lights. To those standing outside, it would look as though the van and the Touched crouched atop it both elongated to several times their normal size, then catapulted forward and vanished. Stuck against the roof, Paintball found himself staring all around, slack-jawed as the tunnel of lights grew brighter and more chaotic over those few seconds. Something¡­ something was happening to him. Something about this method of travel was interacting with his spacial sense in a weird¡­ disturbing way. It was over before his red paint even wore off, but it felt like an eternity. Things almost seemed to be shifting inside his own brain.


    When the van finally stopped, Paintball swayed from one side to the other, before his paint expired. In that moment, he slipped too far one way and fell all the way to the pavement. His suit protected him from the worst of the impact, but he still fell with a thud on his back before simply lying there next to the driver¡¯s side door, staring blearily upward.


    A moment later, that door popped open, and another helmeted head poked its way out to look down. In the background, the sound people arguing in the back of the van could be heard. They apparently weren''t aware of his presence. But the driver was. Some part of Paintball knew this was dangerous, that it was bad. And yet, all he could do was lay there and stare at the other helmet.


    ¡°Ohhhh pretty colors. I like the colors,¡± he slurred deliriously. His voice sounded soft and a bit inebriated, as if the boy had been out drinking at far too young of an age. ¡°I make colors too, they go ooooh shphshh¡­ wait no, that¡¯s not right, I made the wrong sound. I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ma hafeta try ¡®gain. I make colors and go ffffffffftttttt¡­.¡± There was a pause before he giggled and spoke in a conspiratorial tone to the man staring down at him. ¡°That¡¯s not the sound they make either.¡±


    ¡°Were you riding on the roof?¡± the driver asked, sounding concerned while keeping his voice low. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should do that. You¡¯re supposed to be inside the vehicle, not outside. That¡¯s the rules. You didn¡¯t even have a seatbelt. You have to have a seatbelt.¡±


    ¡°Sokay,¡± Paintball informed him while gesturing broadly as he lay there on his back. ¡°I¡¯m a professional. I know what I¡¯m doing. I know-- I hafeta take you to jail. You¡¯re a robber. Or a driver for robbers. I ¡®unno how they settle that. Assessory. Wait no, that¡¯s wrong. Acks. Acks-serry. Acksery.¡± He giggled. ¡°Why can¡¯t I say the word? Acksorcery.¡±


    ¡°Drive?¡± A voice called from the back of the van. ¡°You say something?¡±


    The driver paused, staring down at Paintball for a moment before shaking his head. ¡°No, I¡¯m just talking to myself. We need to leave, make another jump just in case.¡± He looked down at Paintball briefly before adding in a whisper, ¡°I hope this wears off and you¡¯ll be okay. Maybe we can fight another time. Good luck.¡±


    ¡°You hold on right there, Mister Ass-tarry,¡± Paintball slurred, ¡°you don¡¯t wanna resist arrest. I¡¯ll fight you now. Put up your dukies.¡±


    By the time he raised his fists and focused on where the helmeted face should have been, it was gone. And so was the van with the men inside.


    And in about five minutes, once the effect of riding on top of that van through the warp tunnel completely wore off, Paintball finally managed to pick himself up, look around, and realize something important. Besides the fact that there was a new Fell-Touched in town with some sort of warp speed vehicle powers.


    The cops were probably having a hell of a time dealing with the door back at that shop.

 Patreon Snippets 24 (Part Two)

    What Happened In The Alternate Timeline Where Lightning Bug Was The Only Member Of Her Family Who Touched, Which Was Apparently Bad Enough That The Orb Went Back In Time To Change History In Order To Fix It By Giving Caishen And Skip Powers Too?


    Heavy sheets of rain poured down upon the busy streets of Detroit late in the evening on June 15th, 2027. A small, slender figure stood at the edge of a rooftop, clad in a dark raincoat with the hood up. Even in the shadows and obscured by falling water, something seemed off about the figure¡¯s appearance. The distant lights along the street weren¡¯t enough to give detail, but periodic lightning flashes would reveal a face of dark red skin, with eyes that were large and visibly compound, like that of an insect. Those eyes were regarding the passing cars below as people hurried to get home and out of the harsh weather.


    Home. They wanted to go home.


    A flash of memories shot through the girl¡¯s mind. Memories of a mother and teenage aunt, of laughter, warmth, and the glow of a television in the corner while they ate dinner. And of trust when their soft, tender hands brushed her long white hair.


    Memories of explosions. Of the door being kicked in. Of gunshots, screams, pleas, and blood. The pain of her own cries burning her throat, of being yanked up and carried out, the last image of her mother and aunt being their lifeless forms lying on the floor as the front door was kicked shut and she was bustled away to a waiting van before being tossed into the back. Then three more shots, these sending darts full of powerful sedatives into her friends, the insects she had made grow to the size of dogs. The drugs knocked them unconscious before they could rescue her.


    Three more thumps as their limp forms were thrown in the back of the second van.


    She remembered the cold labs, the bright lights in her face. Only five years old at the time, seven years ago, and she remembered all of it all-too vividly. The pokes of the needles, the terror of being strapped to the table and unable to move, her eyes being held open so they could examine her with bright flashlights and scanners. Which left her unable to escape the curse of her phenomenal peripheral vision forcing her to witness her insect friends being imprisoned and examined as well. Then worse, as they were cut open. Their larger bodies wouldn¡¯t take that much damage, and soon disintegrated, leaving their original smaller forms. Smaller forms which were swiftly captured and put in jars to continue to be examined.


    They thought she was an early Abyssal, that she was a monster in its infant form. They weren¡¯t part of the government or any official group, just a rogue bunch of psychotic extremists who thought it was their duty to study her so they could figure out how to kill true Abyssals. All of them had had loved ones die in Collision Points throughout the country over the previous several years, and they were scared that things would only get worse.


    She learned all that over the six years that she had been locked up and experimented on. Six years of torture, starting when she was five years old, ending when she was eleven. Ending when her tormentors made the mistake of going after bigger, more dangerous prey. They tried to abduct Cu¨¦lebre, believing him to be an early Abyssal as well despite all indications otherwise. He made them pay for it, killing all of them, and rescued her in the process.


    He¡¯d asked for her name, but she didn¡¯t want to give it. That person, the girl they had taken, died with her mother and aunt. So, Cu¨¦lebre gave her a new name. He called her Lib¨¦lula, Spanish for Dragonfly. He¡¯d killed all the people who had tortured her for so long. And for a year after that, Cu¨¦lebre had taken care of his little Lib¨¦lula. With a little help from his own daughter,  Austen, who was about ten years older than her. Lib¨¦lula had lost her mother all those years earlier, but she had finally been freed from that hell, and had her new father and an older sister.


    Things had been better¡­ for a year.


    Of course she knew her new father and sister were criminals. But that had barely registered. What mattered was who they were to her. They saved her. They protected her. They helped her create new insect friends after the old ones had long-since perished in captivity. They were everything, the entire world to her.


    Then they died. Both of them, her new father and her sister, were killed during, of all things, a Collision Point that had struck a town about thirty miles north of Detroit. Neither of them needed to go, but Lib¨¦lula had convinced them to help. She convinced them to go and save people.


    And what had happened? They were abandoned. Kasbah, who had taken over for Silversmith after the latter¡¯s disappearance several years earlier, had used the several Fell-Touched who showed up to help as distractions in order to evacuate more of the affected neighborhood. He cut them off from aid and allowed the Abyssal to kill them. He left them to die after they went out of their way to go help. After¡­ after she had convinced them to go.


    Those Star-Touched allowed her new family to die, after having done nothing to save her from over half a decade of torture and experimentation. They abandoned her new dad and sister, just because they didn¡¯t think anyone cared about them.


    Well, they were about to find out just how wrong they were on that point.


    It had been one month since that Collision Point, a month since the only people left in the world that she cared about had been abandoned to die. And Lib¨¦lula had been busy in that time. She had explored new aspects of her power, stretching it far beyond what she had done with it before, even after a year of encouragement from Danilo (Cu¨¦lebre) and Austen. In the rage, grief, and loss of one family multiplied by the lingering, still-painful loss of another and years of torment, Lib¨¦lula had stretched her power to its absolute limits and even beyond.


    Now, it was time for these people to find out just what a mistake they had made. It was time for them to learn just how much Danilo and Austen had mattered.


    Standing there in the rain, the twelve-year-old girl raised one hand to point off into the sky, while her other hand pointed in the opposite direction, toward the ground. Specifically, she was pointing toward an unassuming-looking garage next to a closed auto shop. With her arms outstretched like that, she looked up to the sky, allowing her hood to fall away so the heavy rain could pelt her face to wash away the endless tears. Her voice was soft and broken. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Da-Danny.¡± She wasn¡¯t stuttering, that was the name they had settled on for him. He wasn¡¯t truly her dad, but he was her Da-Da, or Da-Danny. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Austen. I¡¯m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve asked you to go. I didn¡¯t mean t--I didn¡¯t think¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­¡± Her eyes closed, a heavy shudder escaping her that had nothing to do with the cold rain.


    Pushing the grief away, she opened her eyes and glowered, anger filling those too-young eyes as she turned that sorrow into a scream that rocked the night air. And in that moment, she unleashed twin blasts of electricity from her hands. The first coursed up through the dark, rain-filled sky like a reverse lightning bolt, while the other struck the door of the garage. Both caught the attention of drivers on the street below, tires and brakes screeching as they came to abrupt halts and stared in confusion at the figure standing on that rooftop.


    But they didn¡¯t look at her for long. Not when far more pressing matters presented themselves. First in the form of a monstrous figure that seemed to form directly within the arc of electricity being shot into the sky. It started small, but grew to the size of a small van within seconds. By that point, the thing was recognizable as a hornet. An Asian Giant Hornet, to be exact, and that second word had never been more apt. Normally, the Asian Giant Hornets could already be up to two inches long, with a wingspan of three inches and a stinger about a fourth of an inch long itself, two point five times as long as an average worker bee stinger.


    Between its usual size and more potent venom than a normal bee or wasp (including a neurotoxin that could shut down a human¡¯s nervous system), they were already quite dangerous. And this one was quite suddenly so much worse. It had become even larger by that point, reaching the size of a bus before it finally stopped growing. A bus-sized, very dangerous, very angry hornet hovering in the air over the shocked civilians staring that way from their cars.


    Or they would have been staring that way, had their attention not been snapped over toward the doors of that garage, which exploded outward as a very different insect came bursting through. At one point, this had been an Australian bulldog ant, with its distinctive reddish-brown thorax and legs, and black head and abdomen. Already the most dangerous ant on the planet with its aggression mixed with a nasty venom and the ability to jump after whatever had annoyed it, the one thing people could say was that at least it was small enough to step on.


    There would be no stepping now. This ant had already grown to be almost as large as the hornet, as it barged through the garage and took in its surroundings.


    Now people started panicking. The initial shock had given way to terror, as horns were blared, engines roared, and everyone tried to escape. Which shouldn¡¯t have been that difficult. Yes, the hornet and the ant were both enormous, but there were only two of them. And it would have stayed that way, if not for those people who had tried so very hard to learn everything they could about Abyssals by tormenting and experimenting upon one little girl.


    In their attempts to understand and find ways to combat those monsters, they had injected her with various types of experimental stimulants and other drugs. Whether directly due to that, or simply a natural progression of her powers in response to such terrifying stimuli, Lib¨¦lula¡¯s original abilities had¡­ expanded in one very simple yet catastrophic way.


    When she used her gift on insects that were intended to live as part of a colony¡­ she was able to create the entire colony.


    That fact was shown quite quickly, as the single hornet hovering in the air abruptly began to glow before splitting apart into two. Those two suddenly became four, then eight, then sixteen. Sixteen Asian Giant Hornets, each the size of a city bus.


    The ants multiplied as well, quickly going from one to thirty-two as they spread out to take up most of the street. Cars that hadn¡¯t already managed to escape were blocked in and trampled, the screams growing louder and more frantic.


    Those sixteen giant giant hornets, meanwhile, immediately began to split up and fly around the city even as the multiplication continued. Soon, over a hundred of the massive flying hornets, and an equal-number of their ground-based ant companions, were combating the authorities and Star-Touched who showed up to deal with the situation. Unfortunately, whenever one insect was ¡®killed¡¯ it simply respawned out of one of its companions within seconds.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    As one small, grieving and thoroughly traumatized young girl stood on the roof of a building directing her troops through the complete destruction of the city that had failed her so terribly, a glowing orb hovered a few feet behind her and observed. The orb had last seen (and been touched by) this child as an infant, when both had been drawn toward inspecting a particularly interesting bug at a playground. Now, the orb had come to this time to see what became of her. It saw no vindictive triumph, heard no gleeful cackling as the city was overrun by the still-multiplying giant insects.


    What it saw was one small girl drop to her knees and bow her head away from the devastation, her tears continuing to fall with the rain and blood that swept across the city, apologizing to a father and sister she had inadvertently sent to their deaths, and to a mother and aunt who had been torn away from her so long ago.


    Lib¨¦lula thought she saw something out of the corner of her impressive peripheral vision. But when she turned, the orb was gone. Gone not only from this place, but from this time.


    The orb went back, not to the moment it had given the child those powers, but earlier. It went back to a time just shortly after her birth. Her mother and aunt, the two who had been killed when the child was abducted. They needed their own powers, powers to allow them to defend themselves and to create a better environment for the child to be raised in.


    Of course, this would also necessitate that the orb carefully manipulate events to ensure the child still ended up at that park to see the insect alongside its earlier-self, despite the change in circumstances. But that was okay.


    As long as the girl known as Lib¨¦lula in one timeline and Lightning Bug in another wasn¡¯t crying anymore.


    ********


    A Look At A Child Superhero Trying To Turn Villain Without Much Luck


    Standing on top of a dumpster in an alley behind a bank, eleven-year-old Aspen Hawkins surveyed her troops. ¡°Oak, Willow, Ash, Maple, Cherry, you guys ready?¡±


    The other five members of the squad gave her an assortment of thumbs up. Aspen could see the nervousness in their expressions, and feel how anxious they all were. But they were ready, they could do this. It was time to show the world--or at least the city of Columbus, Ohio--what they were capable of. It was time to stop letting Mister Imens boss them around. It was his fault their parents put them up for adoption, the pressures he put on them to go to more and more Minority-sponsored events. They¡¯d just wanted quiet lives, but it was impossible to blend in with society with Aspen and the others¡¯... condition. Mister Imens made sure they were all super-famous, and their mom and dad didn¡¯t like that level of scrutiny.


    Their parents had already thought it was difficult enough raising a daughter who was a Multiple. That¡¯s what they called it anyway, though the term ¡®System¡¯ had been thrown around as well. Aspen was the first, the daughter they were born with. But her parents had been so involved with their own lives and had left her by herself for so long even as an infant, Aspen had been lonely.


    But not for long. First Oak and Ash had shown up, almost like imaginary friends. But they were more than that. They were her, other¡­ other parts of her. It was hard to explain. They were Aspen, but they thought different thoughts than she did. She could have entire conversations with them, and then with Willow and Maple when they came into their shared mind as well. Cherry, the baby of the group, showed up almost a year later when Aspen was nine. It wasn¡¯t magic, wasn¡¯t the result of any superpower or anything like that. They were simply multiple personalities in a single body. Different aspects of the same person.


    They had shared a singular body for another year like that, before the orb came. The orb seemed to want to talk to them, the way it hovered in front of them and danced while making those chiming sounds. Maple, the impulsive one, had made them touch the orb, which was when everything changed.


    Now they all had separate bodies¡­ usually. And for a year, they had been part of the Ohio Minority. Within six months, their parents had decided they¡¯d had enough and put them up for adoption. That¡­ that had been sad. They¡¯d cried and tried to make their parents understand that they could stop being a superhero, but they didn¡¯t listen. They didn¡¯t¡­ they didn¡¯t want to be a part of their lives anymore. It was too much pressure.


    So, they were left in the care of Mister Imens, who had immediately made them go to even more events, putting them in even more of a spotlight. His career was skyrocketing, and he didn¡¯t care how unhappy it made them.


    Well, no more. Today they were going to show how much they had changed. They were going to destroy their reputation and end their career in the Minority.


    And they were going to do it by robbing a bank!


    Hopping down off the dumpster, Aspen led the way while the rest of the squad followed. They were determined to make this work. No more being used by Mister Imens. After today, he wouldn¡¯t be able to make them the face(s) of the local Minority anymore!


    ¡°After this, can we get ice cream?¡± Cherry piped up hopefully as they made their way through the alley.


    ¡°Hell yeah!¡± Ash, the only member of their group who felt completely comfortable cursing, put in. ¡°I¡¯ve got a hankering for fudge ripple.¡±


    Willow, bringing up the rear, eagerly enthused, ¡°I¡¯m gonna eat so much ice cream I explode again! We¡¯ve gotta go to Mallory¡¯s!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Mallory¡¯s!¡± Maple agreed, bouncing up and down a little. ¡°I¡¯m gonna beat that jerk XFF¡¯s Pac-Man score!¡±


    ¡°Technically,¡± Oak pointed out in that slow, deliberate way he had, ¡°you don¡¯t know that XFF is a jerk. They simply have a higher score than you do on an ancient arcade cabinet. And Mallory¡¯s doesn¡¯t have ice cream, they have custard. The two are very similar, but not quite the same. Really, when you get down to--¡±


    ¡°Game faces, everyone!¡± Aspen interrupted, not wanting to let everyone get distracted (or bored) by one of Oak¡¯s lectures. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done!¡±


    Together, the six of them marched all the way around to the front of the bank. Aspen jumped up on Oak¡¯s shoulders to reach the handicapped button to make the door open, and then they went right through together.


    As soon as they were in, Maple raised her voice. ¡°Excuse me!¡±


    It didn¡¯t work. The voice was too quiet against the loud rumblings of various conversations. So, they all tried together, the six of them shouting, ¡°Excuse us!¡±


    That got some attention. The nearby security guard turned their way, his eyes immediately lighting up. As did those of the customers who heard. Word immediately began to spread, and soon every customer and teller was looking their way. And then it came.


    ¡°Ohhh my God, they¡¯re here!¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re so adorable!¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know there was a Minority appearance today!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen them in person, they¡¯re even cuter than on TV!¡±


    ¡°Do you see how fluffy they are?! Do you see how fluffy they are?!¡±


    Yes, they were fluffy. When Maple had touched that orb a year earlier, something quite dramatic had happened. Their body, the one they had shared, was¡­. gone. It disappeared entirely. But Aspen and the others weren¡¯t left bodiless. Not¡­ exactly. Instead, each of their minds had separated and manifested within a few of the toys within their bedroom.


    Stuffed animals, to be exact.


    Aspen herself had taken over a small blue stuffed rabbit, which wore a levi jacket, shorts, and a baseball cap that her floppy ears stuck up through. She was about a foot tall. Her individual Touched ability allowed her to stick to walls and ceilings, and she was very quick.


    Oak was a turtle with glasses and a tweed suit. He stood about two feet in height, twice as tall as Aspen. His power allowed him to create forcefields.


    Ash was a red plush dragon with wings. He could even fly, but was also the smallest of them at only ten inches at the shoulder, since he was usually on all fours. Besides flying, he could also breathe and manipulate fire.


    Maple was a green monkey in a cowboy outfit complete with lasso. She was taller than Aspen but shorter than Oak at about a foot and a half. She could stretch, flatten, and reshape her body in incredible ways.


    Willow was a penguin with a snowboard that could strap to her back or feet, which functioned as a hoverboard allowing her to fly around like Ash did. She could also make freezing cold wind as well as summon and manipulate snow.


    Finally, there was Cherry, the youngest of the group. She was in the body of a small yellow duckling of appropriate size. Despite her diminutive form, she was the strong one, capable of lifting several hundred pounds in her tiny wings.


    Even with their gifts, most would have said that sending the six of them out to do any superhero stuff was idiotic. But they had another gift: immortality. Whenever one of them was ¡®killed,¡¯ their body destroyed, it simply poofed out of existence with an explosion of fluff, and an identical body appeared. They could even will themselves into new (though still identical) bodies at any point if one was damaged.


    Needless to say, they¡¯d been pretty useful for the local heroes, especially when villains refused to take them seriously. Or, later on, when those same villains surrendered immediately rather than admit they were beaten up by a collective of foot-high stuffed animals.


    But that was over now. They weren¡¯t superheroes anymore. And it was time to show everyone that.


    ¡°Everybody put your hands up!¡± Maple ordered, demonstrating by raising her own monkey arms and extending them to several times their normal length.


    ¡°This is a robbery!¡± That was Cherry, the tiny duckling girl barging out in front of the others with that high-pitched announcement.


    ¡°We want all your money and valuables,¡± Oak the turtle chimed in, holding out a hand to create a large bowl-shaped forcefield in the middle of the room. ¡°You can put them right there.¡±


    Ash flew up and did a quick loop around the room, spraying a bit of fire and smoke. ¡°Don¡¯t make us get nasty!¡± he squeaked, sending another shower of sparks through the open space above the tellers.


    Willow, meanwhile, flew off on her board and did a circuit in the other direction, sending a wide shower of snow over the faces of those staring at them. ¡°Yeah! We¡¯ve got places to go and more people to rob!¡±


    Aspen took a running start, dashing from the entrance of the bank all the way to the central teller¡¯s counter in an instant. She held both hands out, cupping them together. ¡°Fork over the valuables, see?!¡± It was her best gangster voice. That should make a good impression.


    For a moment, the elderly teller stared at her, mouth opening and shutting. Then, without warning, she suddenly reached out, grabbed Aspen, and pulled her into a tight hug. ¡°Ohhhh that¡¯s adorable! Can we get a photo with all of you, my grandson will just love it!¡±


    All around the bank, other customers and employees were simply hugging or patting the other members of their troop (collectively they were known as the Cuddle Corps, a fact that really wasn¡¯t helping their current endeavor). There was so much cooing and awwing that it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.


    Oh well, they¡¯d just have to play rough. Exchanging an assortment of looks and nods, all six living stuffed animals vanished from where they were, transforming into beams of light. Those lights shot into the middle of the bank lobby before merging together. Once it faded, a single, larger form was left behind. This gestalt figure was a combination of all six of them. The somewhat pudgy main body was a much larger version of Willow¡¯s penguin form. They had a big shell on their back from Oak¡¯s turtle body. Maple¡¯s monkey had contributed long arms and a tail that stuck out from near the bottom of the shell. Their head came from Cherry¡¯s duck. Aspen¡¯s rabbit made up their legs and feet. Finally, Ash¡¯s dragon wings were capable of extending from the sides of the shell and could lift them into the air. Altogether, they were about five feet tall in this form, the individual parts of their bodies growing when they were combined like this.


    Unfortunately, shifting into this larger form only accomplished one thing. Now everyone wanted to hug them. A line immediately formed, photographs were taken, and customers and employees alike kept asking for autographs. They all thought this was some sort of publicity stunt. The bank manager even offered to help them set up new accounts.


    This¡­ villain thing might be harder than they thought. Maybe they needed to run away from home and try a new place, somewhere they weren¡¯t quite so well known. Somewhere they could actually make up new lives for themselves, where Mister Imens couldn¡¯t easily bring them back.


    Somewhere¡­ that was currently quarantined from the rest of the world.

 Solution 30-02

    ¡°Okay, so I¡¯m confused.¡± That was Peyton, holding up one hand with a half-eaten sub sandwich clutched in it as we sat around a table in the park. We, at this point, amounted to her, Murphy, Roald, and me. The others were still back at the shop working on the machine so we could actually deal with the Pittman problem. It had been about an hour since I called Paige, and I had spent most of the intervening time explaining the situation to these three while we ate a picnic lunch.


    ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± Murphy agreed. ¡°There¡¯s that list that Maki person has, sure. And we definitely need to find out why your name is on it. But why exactly would that mysterious thief group we completely made up break into their house in the first place? Are they supposed to know Maki¡¯s family has a connection to the Ministry somehow?¡±


    Peyton used her sandwich to point that way, head nodding quickly. ¡°That, yeah. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m cool with getting answers about that list. But it just seems weird that we¡¯d pick that particular house when we have no idea what the actual connection to the Ministry is. I mean from what you said, the only thing we know about them is that that Jackson dude showed up when Maki was having a fit and calmed things down.¡±


    ¡°He gave them a phone and let them listen to whoever was on the other end,¡± I murmured. ¡°Probably one of my parents, to be honest. Part of me really wants to know what they said to get Maki to stop arguing and get in the car, and part of me really doesn¡¯t. The ¡®really doesn¡¯t¡¯ part is winning right now. And you¡¯re both right, we don¡¯t have a good reason for our thief group to break into that house specifically.¡± Waiting a beat just for effect, I smiled at them slowly. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re gonna screw up.¡±


    Yeah, that made all three of them stare at me in confusion. Roald was the first to find his voice, though he couldn¡¯t really say much. ¡°I¡¯m sorry? How--what do you mean?¡± He exchanged a quick look with the other two, getting helpless shrugs back in return.


    Giving them an exaggerated shrug just because it was fun, I repeated, ¡°We¡¯re gonna screw up. Or at least, we¡¯re gonna make the Ministry think we did. First of all, we know there¡¯s some sort of connection between Kent and Maki¡¯s family. And we know they keep meeting up with Kent. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s every night, but once we¡¯re ready, we¡¯ll watch until another meeting happens. When it does, a couple of us will sneak into Maki¡¯s family¡¯s car. Either in the trunk, or attached to the underside using something like the boots Wren gave me, whatever. The point is, we¡¯ll hitch a ride. Once they take us all the way back to their home, we¡¯ll hop out, then have a big argument about being in the wrong place in front of their security cameras. I¡¯ve seen them in the garage every time they pull out of that place, and I don¡¯t think these people are the type to cheap out on having audio. According to Paige and Sierra, they can disable the cameras from sending new images so they won¡¯t know we¡¯re there in the moment, but allow it to keep recording and make it look like they just screwed that up. Anyone watching later once it¡¯s all over will think we didn¡¯t realize the cameras were still recording everything we said and did. We argue about how we stowed away in the wrong vehicle, as if it was Kent we were trying to follow. Paige said his name comes up a couple times in those files we stole, so we can make it seem like we were snooping on him and trying to stow away in his vehicle. They look pretty similar.


    ¡°While that¡¯s going on and two of us are putting on a show for the cameras, the others hop the fence from outside and deal with the guards as quietly as possible. There¡¯s only a couple of them out there at night, as far as I can tell. They deal with those security guys, then those of us inside the garage let them in the side door. We all argue some more about being in the wrong place and how it¡¯s Kent we need to get at to find out how he¡¯s involved in all this. After a bit of arguing, we¡¯ll settle on going into that house anyway because whoever those people are, there must be something valuable in there. We¡¯ll say that since we don¡¯t know who they are or what connection they have, we just have to grab anything we can and sort it out later.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s when we go in the house and start robbing them blind?¡± Peyton gave a low whistle. ¡°I guess that would explain why you might go into Maki¡¯s room and grab things like their notebooks and computer or whatever. As far as they know at that point, we have no idea what¡¯s valuable and what isn¡¯t. We¡¯re just grabbing random things and trying not to come out of it completely empty-handed. But what about, you know, the people who actually live there, Maki and their family?¡±


    ¡°Paige says she can get hold of some gas that we can use to knock them out,¡± I replied. ¡°Pump it into the house from the garage, wait for it to do the trick, then go in with gas masks. We¡¯ll ransack the place while they¡¯re asleep, let the cameras see us just grabbing everything we can, then take off.¡±


    Peyton stared at me for a moment, clearly noticing the way my voice faltered a bit despite my attempt to sound casual about it. ¡°You don¡¯t like the idea of robbing them, do you?¡±


    ¡°I like Maki,¡± I admitted with a wince. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ it seems dirty and wrong to violate their space like that. But we need to know why they have a list with my name on it, what they¡¯re doing with it, and¡­ and all that. But¡­¡± Trailing off again, I put my head down against my arms as they rested on the wooden table. ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s my plan and I still don¡¯t like it. Breaking into their house, knocking them out with gas, stealing their stuff? What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I even think that all that would be okay?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re freaked out about your name being on that list,¡± Roald pointed out gently. ¡°You¡¯ve been obsessing over it for days now. Between that and the¡­ the whole situation with your parents, this is something you can maybe deal with and get answers from. That might¡¯ve made you go through some thoughts that were kind of extreme.¡±


    ¡°But do we actually do that?¡± I lamented, clasping my hands together. ¡°I was so focused on coming up with the best plan to ransack their house without the Ministry getting curious about how we know about them that I didn¡¯t stop to consider the fact that I was coming up with a plan to ransack their house. It was one thing to break into that secret lab, but breaking into someone¡¯s home, knocking them out with gas, and going through their things would be a very different thing. I don¡¯t want to be that kind of person. But we need to find out what the deal with that list is.¡±


    We were all silent for a few long seconds before Peyton spoke up tentatively. ¡°What if we go with a modified version of your plan? One that doesn¡¯t involve gassing the whole family or ransacking their entire house, but still lets us search Maki¡¯s room quietly and without them knowing anyone was in there? And still uses our secret thief team.¡±


    Squinting that way, I slowly replied, ¡°Well, that would require a very good plan.¡±


    So, Peyton told us her idea. Once she was finished, I ran it through in my head, shifting back and forth on the bench. Finally, I gave a slow smile. ¡°You know what?


    ¡°That is a very good plan.¡±


    *******


    Of course, we couldn¡¯t focus on that right now. We¡¯d have to put that plan in our back pockets and do something with it when a chance presented itself. After all, as anxious as I may have been to find out what the deal with that list was, we had more pressing matters. I didn¡¯t want to distract everyone from finishing the work on the transportation machine so we could finally deal with Pittman. Maybe once everyone affected by Sleeptalk were back on their feet and conscious, there would be time to deal with all the other stuff piling up on the to-do list. Right now, that had to have priority.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    So, we spent some time basically running errands. Wren needed more stuff from about a dozen different niche repair shops across the city. Well, technically we didn¡¯t have to spread it out that much, but there was a better chance of the people in any of those shops remembering us and paying attention if we bought too much in one place. So we divvied up the list and bought just one or two things from each store.


    It turned out that to make the plan work with Pittman¡¯s teleportation machine, Wren needed to build a whole new device to essentially boost and control it. And something about needing to switch it from sending to receiving. I didn¡¯t follow her whole very-complicated explanation, but the gist seemed to be that she needed this other device to change how that one worked. So, we played gofers for all that stuff.


    Of course, beyond that, we also needed to have a way to lock onto him. We knew the general location of the island thanks to tracking that phone call, but it was a big place, and he wasn''t the only one there. We had to make sure we got the right guy and nobody else. Which was where Paige being such a perfect biological replica of his actual daughter came in handy. He made her Biolem body out of that same DNA, so Wren could build a thing to lock onto that DNA when we targeted that area. Unfortunately, that was another thing that was contributing to how long this was taking. Every passing hour made me even more anxious, but there was nothing else to be done about it. Everyone was doing the best they could. Besides, I wasn''t the only one who wanted to get this done. I could tell Paige was getting stressed out about Irelyn. We just had to suck it up and be patient, as hard as that was. At least we were actively doing something. I couldn''t even imagine how bad it felt for everyone else who had loved ones affected by that stuff and didn''t have the slightest idea of what to do about it. What if I was stuck being as completely clueless as people thought I was?


    It was a thought that made me shudder inwardly even as I was dropping off my latest haul back at the shop. Sierra came downstairs to take the heavy bag from me. She had a backwards baseball cap on and grease smears over her face. A face that looked so much like mine beneath the superficial disguise. With the cap covering her hair so we couldn¡¯t see that it was currently blonde, it was a lot like looking at myself with different-colored eyes, thanks to her contacts. Which I still wasn¡¯t exactly used to, even after all this time.


    Hah, ¡®all this time.¡¯ It really hadn¡¯t been that long. Hell, it had only been a few months since all this started for me. March ninth was when I first Touched. Today was June fourth. I¡¯d been doing all this for almost three months. God, it felt like years at this point. How had everything that happened so far only taken three months? Was there some sort of monster Abyssal using a time dilation power or something? And what was my life going to be like in another three months? I had no idea, but the thought of how much could change was thoroughly intimidating. I could be anywhere in three months, in any situation. Would my parents be alive and awake? Would they know anything about¡­ about me? Would we be talking to each other, or would¡­


    With some effort, I put that out of my head. Now wasn¡¯t the time to obsess over it. Sierra was giving me what I was pretty sure was a concerned look, but I waved her off and told her to go ahead and give me the next list of stuff they needed.


    ¡°We¡¯re good, actually,¡± she informed me. ¡°Just need the supplies the others are grabbing, then we should be set to put this thing together.¡± She held up a hand to stop me. ¡°Which will take some time if we¡¯re gonna do it right. Yeah, I know, it sucks. Trust me, we all wish we could just think at this thing and magic it together immediately. But we have to do it right, or there¡¯s no point. If it was possible to wish hard enough and make Pittman show up right in front of us just like that, I would¡¯ve made it happen already.¡± Her head shook. ¡°Maybe you should just take a break and hang out.¡±


    Oh no, not being alone with my own thoughts and nothing to do. Anything but that.


    ¡°I can help,¡± I blurted, realizing how absurd that sounded even as I said it. My face flushed a bit. ¡°I mean, I can hold things, fetch things, get snacks, help out with any of--¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± she interrupted, ¡°you really need to learn how to sit down and chill. I know my own face, you know?¡± She waved her hand in a circle around said face, then did the same in my direction. ¡°And I know that this face is worn out. Go see a movie or something, play a game, do something to take your mind off everything else. You sent the kid to the arcade the other day so she¡¯d relax for a few hours, right? So you do understand the general concept. You¡¯re not a machine. Trust me, I¡¯d know.¡± With that, she gave me another look. ¡°There¡¯s gonna be plenty to do as soon as this thing is ready, so you should take a break while you can. I mean, it¡¯s probably a good idea for you to be as fresh as possible once we¡¯re ready to grab Daddy Dearest and put the screws to him. Which I mean in both the metaphorical ¡®letting the kid¡¯s device get the information out of his head¡¯ way and the literal ¡®I have long metal screws and I don¡¯t mind pushing them into his brain until he talks¡¯ way. Whichever ends up working.¡±


    I started to say I was fine, even though I knew she wouldn¡¯t believe me. But in the end, I gave a heavy sigh and nodded. ¡°Right, fine, I¡¯ll take a break.¡± When she gave me a disbelieving look, I made a gesture over my chest. ¡°Cross my heart. A real break, I swear. I¡¯ll try not to obsess over everything and just go¡­ find something fun to do. Or at least something entertaining enough to take my mind off everything.¡±


    *******


    I went skating at the park. Yeah, maybe that was predictable, but I really did like it. Besides, this way I could do something I liked that would help me take my mind off things (getting too distracted while going through those ramps and all that was a good way to wipe out) while also getting some very useful practice in. After all, how many times had my skating obsession already saved my life? Clearly I was doing something right on that front.


    So, with earbuds in so I could use loud music in an attempt to drown out my own thoughts and worries, I lost myself for awhile. The feeling of my board¡¯s wheels gliding over the concrete, of briefly flying through the air at the top of each jump, of nailing the landings (usually) and getting that rush of triumph, it all helped keep me from curling into a ball somewhere dark just to scream until my throat was hoarse.


    To be fair though, screaming like that probably would¡¯ve helped a little bit too.


    Of course, keeping my mind off everything would¡¯ve worked better if I hadn¡¯t caught a glimpse of Maki watching me from across the park. Yeah, while I was doing one of my airborne tricks in the half-pipe, I happened to see them standing by the restrooms. They weren¡¯t doing anything else, just standing there watching me with this contemplative, maybe slightly worried expression.


    Yeah, that freaked me out a bit. I was just trying to ask myself if I should let them know I¡¯d seen them by walking over there just to see what they would say, when my civilian phone buzzed in my pocket. By the time I rolled off to the side and got the phone out before looking up again, Maki was gone. Maybe they went in the restroom? I couldn¡¯t see them anywhere else, unless they had some sort of invisibility or teleportation power in addition to sex-shifting. And at this point, who the hell knew what was possible.


    The call was from the others back at the shop. Squinting a bit as I looked around for Maki, I answered somewhat distractedly. ¡°Uhhh, yeah, what¡¯s up?¡± What did Maki want? Why were they were? Did they know something, and how much?


    ¡°You might want to get back here,¡± Fred informed me solemnly, interrupting my racing thoughts.


    ¡°What? Why?¡± My mind was going even more wild. ¡°Did something happen? Is everyone--¡±


    He interrupted. ¡°No, nothing¡¯s wrong. They said it¡¯s done. The machines are ready.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to grab that son of a bitch and make him fix this shit.¡±

 Solution 30-03

    To be completely honest, some part of me had thought this time would never actually come. As long as it had taken to get everything we needed and put these machines together to pull off our plan, part of me had thought there would always be something standing in our way. I thought we would basically be like Sisyphus, pushing this boulder up the hill and always needing just one more part. It wasn''t Wren¡¯s fault, or anyone else¡¯s. Everyone had put the stuff together as quickly as we could. It was just a dark, pessimistic part of me that thought there would always be more to do, more stopping us from going onto the next part of the plan.


    Of course, we weren''t exactly home free just yet. Finishing the machine was basically just the end of the first phase. Okay, more like the end of the second phase. The first one had been going to Utah to get the damn thing in the first place. But now it was ready and we were ready to go on to phase three. That was the one where we actually targeted Pittman and pulled him over. It was a short, but incredibly vital phase. If we pulled this off and managed to teleport him to us and secure him, then¡­ then we could work on phase four, actually getting the information out of him.


    Yeah, that was getting a little ahead of myself. But I couldn¡¯t help but feel at least a little optimistic right then. We could do this. We could get that bastard away from all his people, shove him into our new machine, and drag answers out of his fucking head. One way or another, whatever it took, we were going to get the cure to help my parents, Irelyn, and all the others. We were finally going to fix this whole situation.


    Obviously, I didn''t waste any time in getting back to the shop. I took an immediate ride into the neighborhood and went in through the back alley. By the time I got inside, the others were all there, and Fred had just locked up the front and put on the closed sign before pulling down the metal shutters to block anyone¡¯s view of the interior. We weren''t going to take a chance on any interruptions. Not when we were this close.


    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± Wren announced, excitement and obvious trepidation in her voice as she bounced up and down, looking around at all of us almost maniacally. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s as done as we can make it. We just tested it a few times and it managed to grab these guys from clear across the city.¡± Her hand gestured toward Roald and Murphy. ¡°But we can¡¯t test it any further than that. And¡­ and definitely not as far as it needs to be. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll hold together for more than one shot from that far away. He¡¯s clear out in the ocean. We just have to try it and¡­ and if it doesn¡¯t work--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll work,¡± I interrupted. ¡°You guys put it all together, I believe in you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± That was Qwerty, piping up from his place on Peyton¡¯s shoulder where he was munching on two pawfuls of popcorn. ¡°We did good work! Now we¡¯re gonna grab that jerk and get the cure out of him so Paige and Sierra¡¯s sister and Cassidy¡¯s parents can wake up!¡±


    ¡°Well she¡¯s not really my sister,¡± Sierra started to put in with a visible grimace. ¡°I never spent any time with her and I don¡¯t look like Paige. She¡¯s not gonna see me that way.¡±


    ¡°I doubt she¡¯ll have any interest in being mine either,¡± Paige noted. ¡°I was just purchased by her parents. And now that she ended up going through¡­ all that, something tells me she¡¯ll want to stay as far away from me as possible.¡± She paused briefly before giving a heavy sigh. ¡°Whatever she wants. The point is, we need to help her. We need to help all of them.¡±


    There was so much I wanted to say to both of them. But I wasn¡¯t sure how to start, and we had too much to do anyway. So, I just cleared my throat. ¡°We¡¯re gonna fix it. We¡¯re gonna get the cure and put a stop to this entire Sleeptalk situation. After that¡­ well, we¡¯ll go from there, whatever happens. Let¡¯s just stick with one step at a time.¡±


    Peyton was nodding. ¡°Yeah. We can deal with all the family questions and who sees who as what once they¡¯re all awake. Right now I just wanna cure this shit so the people in charge can open up the city again and we can all move on with our lives.¡±


    There were assorted murmurs of agreement to that. Then it was time. Without saying anything else, we all turned to the stairs and started to make our way up to the workshop area. All of this still felt so surreal, even after that whole conversation we¡¯d had downstairs. It was really, truly happening.


    Unless some sort of meteor suddenly crashed onto the shop to interrupt us, but what were the odds of that--shut up, Cassidy.


    Reaching the lab, I got my first glimpse of how everything looked now that it was put together. The big teleportation machine was in the center of the room, with five separate computer terminals around it. Well, I assumed they were computer terminals. Mostly they just looked like a bunch of cobbled together electrical components with a couple keyboards and a screen here and there. Wires led out of the machine, through all those consoles, and over to the virtual reality thing from back when we had gone into Paige¡¯s mind, the one that looked like an MRI machine with chairs arranged all the way around it. Hanging from the ceiling in a circle all around that area were ten or so of what looked like fancy megaphones with other components strapped to them. In some cases, all these things were literally duct taped in place. Or secured with zip ties.


    Then there was that special suit Wren had put together to force Ashton to lead us to the vials. It was standing up on a half-broken mannequin, with even more tubes and wires leading from that over to the virtual reality machine, and yet another makeshift console next to it.


    They definitely hadn''t spent any time making this thing look pretty. Because who cared what it looked like? All that mattered was that it was functional and would do the job we needed it to do. And if all four of them said it would, I believed them.


    Paige was going over things one more time, explaining what was going to happen and what each part was responsible for. We all knew this already, of course, but I was pretty sure she was saying it because she felt like this could be real too. She was detailing every single part out of the fear, or certainty, or whatever that doing so would suddenly reveal that we had forgotten something incredibly important that still needed to be done.


    But nope, once she was done going over everything, nothing had jumped out at any of us. Not even Qwerty, whose entire power revolved around being able to improve things. If it was something else we could''ve done to make this more likely to work, he would have spoken up. Well, I was sure there were other things we could¡¯ve done with a lot more resources and time. But this was the best we had under the circumstances.


    On the other side of the room, mostly out of sight behind the teleportation machine, was a vial with some of Paige¡¯s hair and skin cells that would be used as the genetic template to lock onto our target once it was pointed at the right general area. A glass tube with an assortment of colored lights within led from that vial over to the top of the machine. It was making various beeping noises that I assumed were good because none of the technical people acted like anything was wrong. Or maybe they all just had really good poker faces.


    Before going any further, the others changed into their costumes (well, Peyton just armored herself), and I pulled my mask and helmet back on. Whatever happened next, we couldn''t let this bastard recognize us. If everything went the way it was supposed to, he would be going back to prison once this was over, and it felt like a bad idea to have him talking about Paintball being Cassidy Evans. Sure, he could also babble about how a couple members of my team were his own Biolems, but something told me people wouldn''t take that too seriously under the circumstances.


    ¡°Cassidy, Peyton, Sierra, you ready?¡± Paige started once everyone was dressed, looking at the three of us who would be going into the virtual reality system with her. We were going to be the ones directing Pittman inside.


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    With a nod, I chorused along with the other two that we were set.


    With that, Paige turned to Murphy, Roald, and Fred, asking if they were ready. They, in turn, held up very large, very dangerous-looking rifles. If this went wrong, if it looked like things were about to fall apart, they were to shoot Pittman. The guns weren¡¯t lethal, of course. Much as he probably deserved that, we needed him alive. Instead, the ones Murphy and Roald had would completely immobilize the man, while Fred¡¯s would instantaneously transport a whole bunch of sedatives into his body, enough to make sure he wouldn¡¯t wake up for a long time. Enough for us to analyze exactly what went wrong and fix it, hopefully.


    Then there was Qwerty. He was on the far side of the room away from everything, surrounded by a bulletproof shield of reinforced glass, with a red button in front of him. If absolutely everything went wrong and the others couldn''t contain the guy, he would press that button. The whole shop would lock down at that point, and the building would be flooded with potent gas to knock everyone out. It would even work to shut down the motor functions of Biolems, in case Pittman had upgraded himself with that sort of tech. Even though we were basically positive he wasn¡¯t fully Biolem, he could have done something to his body along those lines. The gas was from Paige, who had spent a very long time, years really, coming up with a way to immobilize or neutralize beings like herself, her father¡¯s army. It hadn¡¯t been ready in time for her birthday party and all that, but it was here now. I just hoped we wouldn¡¯t need to use it.


    Either way, yeah, the gas should work on everyone, whether they had Biolem enhancements or not. Everyone, that was, except for Qwerty himself. He had already been given the antidote, or whatever the right term was for something that rendered him immune for several hours. Once everyone was unconscious, he would set out to flush the gas from the building and wake us up with more of the antidote. All that would matter in that moment was making sure Pittman couldn¡¯t go anywhere. Even if he somehow wasn¡¯t knocked out by the gas, the shop would be completely locked down with no way out. And in that case, Qwerty was hooked into Wren¡¯s fledgling emergency teleportation system. If he saw that the gas wasn¡¯t stopping Pittman, he would speak a single word, and would immediately be teleported out of the building. As would the rest of us, so we wouldn¡¯t be left in there with that psychopath.


    Obviously we didn¡¯t want to leave Pittman alone in Wren¡¯s lab, so that was a worst case sort of scenario, only to be used if it was the only way to make sure he couldn¡¯t get his hands on any of us. And in that case, Wren had rigged her most important weapons and tools to either teleport out if possible, or simply melt into goo. We wouldn¡¯t leave that bastard anything to use before we could get back on our feet, regroup, and get back in there to contain him once more.


    Even all of this put together wasn''t a perfect plan, but we really didn''t have time for perfect. Still, I could hear voices whispering in the back of my mind that we should call in help, that we should tell every other Star-Touched group in town about what we were doing and go to some even more secure place surrounded by a legion of armed soldiers. But we couldn''t. Doing so would expose too much about everything. If they even let us try. Honestly, the truth was that they might just object to yoinking a prisoner off Breakwater instead of going through diplomatic channels. Hell, they would probably have a few issues with us having left the city to get the machine in the first place. To say nothing of them finding out about Paige and Sierra being Biolems.


    No, as much as that would have made things easier in some ways, it would make them so much harder in many more. We had to do it this way, had to deal with this ourselves. So I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Now wasn''t the time for doubt. This was happening here and now.


    We all took our positions surrounding the virtual reality machine. We didn''t sit down, not yet. If this went wrong right off the bat somehow, we all needed to be ready to put him down before he could do any damage. Only once he was safely locked in virtual reality would the four of us go in there with him.


    Wren, standing by the main controls, took in an audible breath before letting it out. Her voice trembled a little. ¡°Coordinates are locked in. The DNA scanner found a match close enough to be a dad.¡± Her hands clenched and unclenched briefly before she went on. ¡°It''s charged enough for one trip. But I don''t think it''ll survive the process. We only get one shot, then it''ll probably take me weeks to put it back together. If I did something wrong, if it''s not really him, if--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Wren,¡± I interrupted, giving her a thumbs up as I forcefully made my own doubts and insecurities shut up.. ¡°It''ll work. You''ve got this. We''ve got this.¡±


    The others audibly agreed, and her figures began to dance across the controls. ¡°Triggering the yoink in ten¡­ nine¡­. eight¡­¡±


    This was the moment of truth, the moment we have been working toward for so long now. Getting Pittman here was the only way to get the cure out of him. It was the only way to help my parents, Irelyn, and everyone else affected by Sleeptalk. It was the only way to stop the quarantine and open up the city once more.


    ¡°... three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ yoink!¡± As she finished the countdown, Wren hit one final button. Immediately, the machine whined to life. It began to make loud humming noises and a plethora of beeps and chimes. I could feel the heat coming off of it, could see lights dancing across the thing and through the tubes. Oh, and it was shaking. It was like those videos I had seen of old washing machines that were overloaded, bouncing and shaking on the floor. It really did look like it would fly apart at any moment. But, a glance toward Wren revealed that she was still staring that way with crossed fingers rather than panicking. So I assumed this was working as well as it could so far.


    It only got more dramatic from there, the whole machine steaming and rocking wildly as it seemed to be screaming in distress. Still, we stayed where we were and watched, tense and ready.


    Abruptly, the machine stopped completely. It went silent and motionless, the lights going out. I felt an immediate sinking feeling that it was dead. But just as my mouth opened to try to weakly say something, there was one more loud bang. The machine fell apart, literally. Half a dozen pieces just collapsed on the floor and it sank in on one side as though something within had broken as well.


    Yeah, it definitely wouldn''t be used again for some time. But that didn''t matter. All that mattered was the figure who had appeared right on the bench leading into the MRI-like tube of the VR machine. As soon as the bench felt the weight appear on it, half a dozen straps looped around him to keep the man trapped there. He reflexively jerked against it, but had no chance of actually escaping. We had tested it, and even Paige empowered by purple paint couldn''t get out of those straps.


    I let out a breath I hadn''t even realized I was holding as soon as I saw his face. It was him. It was Pittman. He looked basically just like he had when I met the virtual version of him, and maybe a bit older than the version from my childhood memory. This was the man responsible for the condition of my parents. He was the one who had treated Paige like an object to be sold and used for his revenge. He didn¡¯t take my memory of our friendship away, that was on Kent Jackson and my parents. But he¡¯d contributed by using Paige like a puppet. He was the one who had taken her freedom away, making her treat me like an enemy for so long. He was the one who tried to make her kill me.


    The man¡¯s head jerked up, mouth opening as he tried to say something upon seeing us surrounding him. Then he looked confused.


    ¡°You might notice you can¡¯t talk,¡± Paige announced flatly, making his gaze jerk to her. His eyes widened with recognition at the voice. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the details, but everything you say is just being transported¡­ somewhere else. No voice for you. We don¡¯t really need you to talk.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Sierra agreed, head tilting as she stared at the man with her face hidden behind the mask. ¡°We don¡¯t need to hear anything you¡¯ve got to say, Pops.¡± I could see the way he reacted to her calling him that, clearly reeling with surprise as his mind raced to explain what could¡¯ve happened. After all, he¡¯d thought the Paige replacement AI had been destroyed or whatever.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I put in, though my own voice was disguised as Paintball, ¡°and you might also notice that you¡¯re not dead. That bomb in your head isn¡¯t blowing up because we¡¯re duplicating the signal they use on Breakwater to keep it turned off. Thanks for the details about what you were gonna need to keep yourself alive after you escaped, by the way. Super-useful right now.¡±


    Paige made a grunting sound of agreement. ¡°Speaking of super-useful, if you¡¯re wondering why your auto-poisons aren¡¯t already leaving us choking on the ground, your voice isn¡¯t the only thing being transported away. Anything biological that comes off your body, be it sweat, something in your breath, your tears, saliva, anything at all, gets sent somewhere far away and safe. Nothing that comes out or off of you is sticking around to do any damage.¡±


    She let him absorb that briefly before continuing. ¡°What we¡¯re actually interested in, is the cure for that shit you¡¯ve spread around this place. So lay back, relax, and this¡¯ll all be over soon.


    ¡°Then you can go right back into the deepest fucking hole we can find for you.¡±

 Solution 30-04

    The last time I had actually been face to face with Benjamin Pittman was the first day I actually met Paige, seven years ago. I had been nine years old, running full-tilt through Anthony¡¯s house when I accidentally collided with the man. He¡¯d taken it well enough, surprisingly, even saying the collision was his fault for getting in the way while Anthony and I were playing. Had he really been so unaffected and casual at that point, or was it just a mask he¡¯d been putting on to avoid upsetting the people he was trying to make a deal with? Anthony had been right there, after all, and probably wouldn¡¯t have reacted very well to his friend being yelled at or belittled. Was the polite reaction to that little collision fake, or had something happened later to make him so utterly deranged?


    Well, of course something had happened. Anthony and his parents died, taking away the source of Pittman¡¯s funding for his big, world-changing project. How much of his reaction was from losing people he maybe cared about, and how much was just the loss of money? Was he actually close to the Tates in more than a business sense?


    One thing convinced me that it wasn¡¯t all just something that had changed in him since then: Paige. He had completely treated Paige like a piece of property from the beginning. He hid her away, tried to make sure she didn¡¯t have any friends or anyone else to interact with besides himself. He didn¡¯t treat her like a real person. Which was odd coming from someone who had been planning to convince the rest of the world that they would still be real people after sticking their brains inside Biolem bodies.


    Whatever the truth, he had well and truly lost the plot by now. He hated my family so much, thanks to my grandfather being responsible for the deaths of his financial backers, that he wanted all of us dead. Or worse, he wanted to hurt my parents by killing me and exposing their Ministry in the process. And if he had pulled that off, who knew what he would¡¯ve done next? As it was, he was already responsible for Sleeptalk. His machinations had resulted in the entire city being quarantined and half the Star-Touched and other authorities in the city being taken out of action.


    He was, in a word, dangerous. Possibly the most dangerous person I¡¯d ever been face to face with. Yes, there was Pencil, but Pittman was dangerous in a different, subtler way. Pencil had just wanted to destroy things, kill people, and watch the world burn. Pittman had ambition. Hell, he¡¯d gotten into this thing because he wanted to make the human species immortal, with himself controlling the whole situation. Paige had made that much clear. Pittman didn¡¯t just want to hand over the keys to immortality like a benevolent scientist. He wanted to dictate who could get new bodies and when. He didn¡¯t simply want to rule the city, or the country, or even the world. He wanted to be responsible for controlling the entirety of human existence from here until the heat death of the universe.


    Ambition might be too small of a word.


    But it was more personal than that. Yes, he was a danger to everyone. Yet I was the one he¡¯d tried to have killed. I was the one he forced Paige, my friend, to treat like shit for years just to establish an excuse for literally murdering me. When Anthony died, I was Paige¡¯s only remaining friend. My parents had my memory erased, yes, but Paige remembered. Paige had remembered who I was, that I was the only friend she had left, and he had fucking enslaved her into hurting and then killing me. He absolutely forced her to kill her friend after the first one had been murdered. The fact that she had found a way around that, a way to bring me back after death, didn¡¯t matter. Not really. He was a monster, a dangerously evil piece of shit who treated Paige like a weapon, a tool he could use to get his pathetic revenge as part of his further quest to rule humanity.


    All of which was to say, as firmly and emphatically as possible, fuck Benjamin Pittman.


    Those thoughts and more went rushing through my brain as I stared at the man strapped down onto that bench. He was clearly reeling from what had just happened, eyes snapping back and forth between Paige and Sierra as though still processing what that meant. Sierra had called him ¡®Pops¡¯ so it probably wasn¡¯t too hard for him to work out that she was the Paige ¡®replacement,¡¯ the one he¡¯d thought was dead. Between that and the fact that we¡¯d teleported him off of Breakwater without any warning, no wonder he was going to need a minute to actually process.


    Well too bad, we didn¡¯t feel any need to give him that minute. Or any other time at all. One of the last things we wanted right now was for Pittman to have time to think and plan. He might¡¯ve been strapped down and unable to access any tools, but that didn¡¯t make him completely helpless by any stretch of the imagination. We weren¡¯t quite stupid enough to believe that simply being teleported here completely unexpectedly and tied down to a table was enough to render the man utterly impotent.


    To that end, Wren abruptly announced, ¡°Got it!¡± She had been examining a computer screen on the far side of the room, bouncing up and down excitedly as she called out, ¡°Left shoe, right front pocket, inside both ears, right ankle, left sleeve, inside jacket pocket on the left.¡±


    Sierra and Paige moved immediately, stripping various weapons and tools out of the spots she had indicated. They took a pair of tiny, almost invisible earbuds away from him as well, just so he couldn¡¯t try to call for reinforcements from any Biolems that might still be around the city. Granted any signals going out or in should have already been blocked, but better safe than sorry when it came to this particular asshole.


    He tried arguing and threatening of course. And, I was sure, various command codes to try to take over Paige and Sierra. But with Wren¡¯s megaphone-like devices up on the ceiling, his voice was instantly transferred elsewhere before any of us heard it. We didn¡¯t have to listen to him, and he couldn¡¯t use his vocal commands to control those two. Which, judging by the look on his face, the man was very unhappy about.


    He was also unhappy as Paige none-too-gently strapped his head down to make sure he couldn¡¯t even look around very much. Her voice was as even as she could make it. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, like I said, we¡¯re just going to get the cure out of you. Then you can go back to prison. Or somewhere else, if Breakwater doesn¡¯t work out. They seem pretty shit at keeping you under control as it is. But then, maybe they¡¯ll have more luck once we take away all your toys. After all, while we¡¯re in your head, we might as well find out where the rest of your workshops are so we can take those off the board.¡±


    In that moment, Pittman¡¯s eyes snapped to me. There was uncertainty there. He clearly didn¡¯t know who I was. Well, obviously he knew I was Paintball, but he didn¡¯t know there was more to me. I could see the lack of recognition, the lack of personal anger. He was looking to see if there was a way he could exploit me, or find a way out of this. Fortunately, all he would see there was a currently red-painted visor on a black helmet. He didn¡¯t get to see my face, and I certainly wasn¡¯t going to do anything else to let him know who I really was. Much as yelling at him might have made me feel a little better in the moment, as far as I was concerned he would go through this entire situation without ever knowing that Cassidy Evans had anything to do with it.


    He was really struggling now, shoving and rocking back and forth on the bench. But it was sturdy, and the straps were far too strong for him to break out of. As I nodded to Wren, she hit the button to make the bench start sliding into the MRI-like tube part of the VR machine. Which took him out of our sight. Even that felt dangerous to me at that moment. Yes, we had taken his weapons away after giving him a thorough scan. He was muted, had been transported here without any warning, and was very securely strapped down. But having his face out of my sight immediately sent a slight pang of worry through me. Was that just unreasonable paranoia on my part? Or completely reasonable paranoia?


    Either way, Paige and Sierra both seemed to share that feeling, judging by the looks they exchanged with one another. Not that there was much we could do about it now. We were in this for the long haul. We had just abducted one of Breakwater''s prisoners, who happened to be one of the most dangerous people I knew about. He was locked up in Wren''s shop, and we were going to get answers out of him.


    But not quite yet. According to Wren, it would take a few hours for the machine to sync to him now that she had adjusted it to actually translate the ''motions'' in his mind to virtual reality. We had to wait around for that to do its job so we could move on to the next part. Which meant that there was nothing else we could do besides wait around and talk about things. Which was what we did, much as I hated feeling like we were wasting time.


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    Finally, the machine was done with its work. Pittman''s mind was officially linked into virtual reality. So, we all reassembled up there. Paige and Sierra immediately moved to the chairs attached to the machine, with Peyton joining them. I gave a quick glance to the others. ¡°Anything happens, be ready to pull us out. And watch the neighborhood just in case. I really don¡¯t think he managed to get any signal out, but¡­ you know.¡±


    Oh, they definitely knew. And they confirmed they would be watching over everything. Between Fred, Wren, Murphy, Roald, and Qwerty, someone would always be watching the cameras showing the views all around the building, and what was going on inside Pittman¡¯s head. In addition to upgrading the VR thing so that we could go inside his mind even though he was human, Wren had set up a monitor that would show people outside what we were seeing.


    Well, to be fair, we weren¡¯t actually ¡®going inside his mind.¡¯ Rather, we were going into a computer simulation that his mind would be sort of controlling. His brain was hooked up to the suit that controlled his actions, and that would dictate what the virtual reality created. There were obvious limitations to make sure he couldn¡¯t pull a god in the machine thing and take over the whole situation. Basically, we would make him think about how to make the cure for Sleeptalk, then put him in a simulation of his lab. We would go inside that simulation and make sure we followed every step of that cure while the suit he was connected to forced him to go through the actions of it. Just like when we¡¯d put Ashton in the suit and used that to lead me to the vials. Except in virtual reality so he didn¡¯t need to go anywhere. Because like fuck was I going to let this son of a bitch walk willy nilly around the whole city grabbing supplies or whatever.


    Taking my own seat, I lifted the visor and put the special sunglasses on while Wren made sure I was securely belted in so I wouldn¡¯t fall off. The gloves came next, replacing my usual ones. And with that, I was ready. So were the other three. Pittman--well, he was ¡®ready¡¯ too, much as he might have argued against that point.


    Well, here went nothing. Settling back in the seat, I waited while Wren turned everything on and started giving us a quick countdown. The sound of the machine whirring to life filled the room, while I took a deep breath.


    Wren reached zero, and a blindingly bright light suddenly filled my vision, before just as quickly shifting into a kaleidoscope of rapidly-shifting rainbow colors. I heard a completely random series of sounds, from a cow mooing, to rain against a window, a shovel digging through dirt, pages being ripped out of a book, a balloon being inflated, and more. Just random sounds without any rhyme or reason, the same as when we¡¯d gone into virtual reality to investigate Paige¡¯s mind before.


    And just like before, the sounds and colors were eventually replaced by a reddish-purple fog and the sensation of going down very quickly on a roller coaster. It was enough to send my stomach somewhere up into my throat.


    Then it was over. The fog cleared, and I was standing in some sort of mixed science lab and autoshop. Wait, not just those, it was also a medical lab. All three. And they weren¡¯t exactly divided up. It seemed like Pittman had set this place up as a pretty even mix between them. There was a table in the corner with microscopes and other science doohickeys next to what looked like the combustion engine out of a Kawasaki motorcycle from the mid-nineties and an old carburetor from probably the fifties. And within a few feet of those was what I was pretty sure was an actual human heart inside a jar. It was still beating in there, with wires hooked up to it leading over to a computer.


    That was just one table. The entire lab was like that. Everywhere I looked was another science-medical nightmare. On the table in the middle of the room was a heavy sheet covering what was very obviously at least most of a full human body.


    ¡°Oooohhhkay, Doctor Frankenstein,¡± I muttered under my breath, giving the other three a quick glance to make sure they were all present and accounted for before turning to the man in question. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get the freakshow on the road so we can get out of this complete nightmare, huh?¡±


    Obviously, the very first thing Pittman tried, as soon as he had his bearings, was to blurt out a command code again. I saw the snide look on his face as he opened his mouth and triumphantly snapped, ¡°Eagle muskrat five yellow!¡±


    Apparently that was supposed to do something to Paige and Sierra, from the way his gaze snapped that way. It didn''t happen now, which he seemed to realize immediately, repeating himself in a louder voice.


    ¡°Is he trying it?¡± Paige asked with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Of course he is,¡± I replied before focusing on the man himself. ¡°Look, you might as well save your breath. And don¡¯t try activating any traps either. We''re not idiots. See, this is all a virtual simulation. We''re not really physically here. We¡¯re in a recreation from your mind. A recreation which won¡¯t allow you to harm any of us. And those two,¡± I added while pointing to the pair of Biolem girls, ¡°can''t hear anything you say. On the outside, everything you said was being instantly transported elsewhere before we even heard it. In here, you can talk, but those two can¡¯t hear you. Think of it like we''re all playing a fancy multiplayer game and your voice isn''t being sent to their computers. You can rant and rave and give all the codes you want, but they won¡¯t hear it. Anything you want to say to them, you can say to us and we¡¯ll pass it on. In our own words.¡±


    We had a few other precautions in place, but I didn¡¯t feel the need to tell him about them just so he could start putting out a way to break them. He knew plenty enough as it was.


    Peyton cleared her throat. ¡°Yeah, and I''m pretty grossed out here as it is, so could we just hurry this whole thing up and get done already?¡±


    Her words made Pittman focus on her for just a moment, his gaze calculating before turning back to me. ¡°I believe I''ve heard of you,¡± he intoned with a slight smirk. If he was put off about anything that had happened so far, he really didn''t show it. It was a little unnerving, the way he barely reacted to any of this. Sure, he¡¯d tried his command code thing repeatedly, but he didn¡¯t look annoyed or upset about it not working. He looked like he was thinking. That worried me a bit more than him freaking out would have, though I was pretty sure that was at least partially intentional. He knew having a fit wouldn¡¯t get him anything. We were prepared for that, and he had been caught off guard by this entire situation. Getting visibly and audibly pissed off wouldn¡¯t help him. But staying quiet, thinking about what was going on, and waiting for an opportunity, that had a better chance of paying off.


    Yeah, I really didn¡¯t like this guy. But I had to keep my cool. As far as he was aware, Paintball basically didn¡¯t know him from Adam. Well, I would''ve known who he was and what he''d done to Paige, but I couldn''t let him know it was personal. Not like that.


    Maybe that was why I had been so stuck in my own head ever since he showed up. Maybe it was why I was overthinking everything. When I looked at him, part of me wanted to scream, curse him out, punch him, just wail on the son of a bitch until he fixed my parents and apologized to Paige for treating her like he had. And Sierra. He¡¯d used her too, even if it was for a shorter time. She had been a tool to him to take over and erase his other tool.


    Okay, I was making myself angry again. I couldn''t visibly react, couldn¡¯t give Pittman any clues or openings to dig into. I had to keep myself under control.


    It was a good thing Peyton was here, just in case. She had final say over whether we pulled out or not. We¡¯d made that clear amongst ourselves before we even started it. The three of us were compromised in various ways. If Peyton thought things were out of control, she would say a single word and the whole system would be shut down. We¡¯d be ejected and regroup. She was the only one here without a personal reason to want to throat-punch this fucker.


    And speaking of throat-punching, Sierra and Paige were keeping themselves rooted to the floor. I knew just how badly they wanted to attack him. But they kept it under control. Honestly, I wasn''t sure how they pulled it off.


    Clearing her throat, Paige spoke up, addressing her ¡®father.¡¯ ¡°You¡¯re in this recreation of your lab to create a cure for that stuff you made that put all those people into those hallucination comas. So get to it.¡±


    His gaze centered on her, as the man snidely retorted, ¡°And why would I--what?¡± His legs were moving, carrying him over to one of the tables, where he started digging through a box. The suit he was plugged into through the VR machine was clearly doing its job. ¡°What?!¡±


    Sierra was clearly smirking under that combat helmet and visor. ¡°I¡¯m guessing he didn¡¯t like that. Sorry, Pops, in here, you¡¯re gonna do exactly what you¡¯re told. You don¡¯t really have a choice. It¡¯s almost like we reprogrammed you.¡±


    ¡°Gee,¡± Paige intoned in a flat tone, ¡°I wonder what that¡¯s like.¡±


    If he was bothered by her words, Pittman didn¡¯t show it. Nor did he audibly react to being informed about why he couldn¡¯t control his body. He was digging through the box, taking out various tools and setting them in a line. ¡°Well,¡± he murmured, ¡°if I¡¯m going to be doing this anyway, I think I deserve to get some answers about what you¡¯ve been up to.¡±


    When I relayed his words, Paige gave a dark little chuckle. ¡°Let me tell you something. The last subject you want to bring up with us is about what you deserve.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got a few thoughts on that subject,¡± Sierra muttered.


    Pittman didn¡¯t respond to that. He didn¡¯t say anything. He didn¡¯t try to antagonize us, didn¡¯t make threats, didn¡¯t promise or plead or bargain. He fell completely silent, while his body continued to move under the direction of the suit.


    He was contained, he had no weapons or tools on the outside, was strapped to that bench, couldn¡¯t control Paige or Sierra or even talk to them, and that suit was controlling his movements in here.


    So why was I so fucking nervous?

 Solution 30-05

    My nervousness about this entire situation didn''t exactly get any better as Pittman continued to move around the lab, taking various vials from the cupboards or coolers and measuring them out at the central table. All under the watchful gaze of the four of us, of course. Especially Paige and Sierra, who would have a somewhat better understanding of what these chemicals did than Peyton or I would. Between those two, the others watching from outside the VR simulation, and the recordings, we would know how to do exactly what Pittman did to make this cure once he was done.


    The man kept looking over at us with an expression of curiosity while he was working. I expected him to be furious about his body being puppeted like this, but other than that initial reaction, he seemed to be rolling with it rather well. Too well, which was somehow worse. I could''ve dealt with him being pissed off, but calm? That just meant he was thinking, and Pittman thinking seemed far more dangerous than if he had been ranting the whole time. He''d accepted his situation far too easily. Obviously, he was up to something now. Sure, we''d prepared for this as much as we could, including defenses we deliberately hadn¡¯t told him about. And yet, I couldn''t help but worry that we¡¯d somehow missed something important. Something that would let him fuck us over and escape. It kept niggling at the back of my mind, but I couldn¡¯t bring it to the forefront, couldn¡¯t articulate the exact thought no matter how much I tried. It remained stubbornly half-formed.


    We could all see a few times when it looked like the man was pulling against the control, trying not to pick up a certain vial, or to change the temperature on a particular bunsen burner to something other than what it was supposed to be, that sort of thing. There were those brief examples of annoyance, when he was just clearly trying to screw up the cure in some minor, yet inescapable way. But even that didn''t work for him. Wren was too good at her job. The control from the suit his mind was plugged into was too complete. It kept him moving exactly the way he was supposed to in order to make this cure properly. Which should have made me feel better, but mostly I was just even more anxious. I told myself it was simply my anxiety about my parents and that we were finally going to fix this whole thing. It didn''t help.


    The other thing that didn''t help was when Pittman started talking again. It was like he was barely paying attention to his own actions. Which made sense considering he wasn''t actually controlling them, but was still a little unnerving. Instead of looking at what he was doing while stirring a concoction he¡¯d put together on one of the burners, he turned his gaze to me and spoke up. ¡°You are quite the intriguing boy, aren''t you? Here I spent so much time believing that my biggest obstacle throughout this enterprise would be the Ministry themselves. But as far as my people have been able to work out, you are entirely separate from them. You aren¡¯t part of their organization.¡±


    Doing my best to keep my voice as even and emotionless as possible rather than let the man know just how invested I was in getting this cure, I replied, ¡°Their benefits package wasn''t enough. I''m holding out for a better offer. Hey, maybe you can pull it off. Just tell me your entire plan including the locations of all your labs, and we''ll see if we can draw up a contract that''s satisfying for both of us. I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll work.¡±


    Giving an audible chuckle of amusement, Pitman started to say something. But Paige interrupted, her voice slightly brittle in a way that made it clear just how much having this bastard in front of us was affecting her. ¡°Shut up. I don''t know what you''re saying, but just stop talking. You don''t deserve to say anything. You''re here to fix what you did, that''s all. As soon as you''re done here, we¡¯ll be finished with you.¡±


    Sierra, who had perched herself on one of the nearby counters with her feet braced against the central table near where Pittman was working, gave a little nod. ¡°Damn straight. Maybe when this is over we can send you back to that island the hard way, by finding a really big cannon to launch you out of. Or just drop you out of an airplane on its way over.¡± Her voice darkened. ¡°Or maybe we¡¯ll just aim for a volcano instead.¡±


    Pittman¡¯s reply was just as casual as ever, while his hands were busy carefully doling out some sort of powder from a sealed container onto one of the electronic measuring scales. ¡°This method of conversation is rather frustratingly limited. Are you quite certain you wouldn¡¯t rather simply allow me to talk to my children directly?¡±


    My eyes rolled behind the helmet. ¡°Sure, buddy, we¡¯ll just let you talk to them so you can use your command codes to control them. That sounds like a fantastic idea and not at all the most idiotic thing I''ve ever heard. I know you think you¡¯re some sort of untouchable genius and everyone else is an idiot, but please try not to treat us like we¡¯re completely braindead.¡±


    Pittman, in turn, simply shrugged while carefully pushing the powder he¡¯d measured out onto a spoon to slowly add it into the concoction. It bubbled up a bit, making the man¡¯s hand snap back out of the way. But apparently there was nothing wrong with that, because he just kept working. He also didn''t sound put out about my response at all. ¡°It was worth a shot. After all, my entire point with noting how intriguing you are was to say that I would''ve thought you''d understand that neither of them are real. They aren''t people, they¡¯re simply good at pretending to be. I didn''t think someone like you would be so thoroughly fooled. Do you also believe that online chat bots are real simply because they sound convincing? Perhaps you think the GPS in your mother¡¯s car is sincerely fulfilled by telling her which street to turn on.¡±


    He was just trying to get a rise out of me. I knew that. I knew that it wasn¡¯t worth reacting to his bait. It wouldn¡¯t accomplish anything useful, wouldn¡¯t actually make him treat them any better, and both Paige and Sierra were more than capable of defending themselves if need be. They were beyond caring what he thought. There was absolutely no reason to give him the slightest bit of satisfaction by letting him know he¡¯d gotten to us. Everything, everything logical said that reacting at all was a bad idea. I knew that. I knew better. The logical part of my brain was too smart for that.


    Unfortunately, that logical part had barely started to open its mouth to tell the rest of me to calm down by the time my fist was already driving itself into the man¡¯s stomach. I couldn¡¯t help it. One second I¡¯d been standing over by the counter, watching him like a hawk. Then he¡¯d said¡­ that about Paige and Sierra, and I was just right there, already taking a swing before my brain could finish screaming that this was a bad idea. I didn¡¯t care how bad it was, I didn¡¯t care how little it would accomplish. I didn¡¯t care about anything at all aside from the filth that had just come out of his mouth. It wasn¡¯t enough that he was responsible for my parents being in their condition, or that he had already tried to have me killed by the girl who was supposed to be my friend. All his plots, all his abuse, all his everything wasn¡¯t enough to tip me over the edge. I¡¯d had it under control, if only barely. But then he¡¯d tried to say that Paige and Sierra weren¡¯t real, that they weren¡¯t actual people. He tried to say they didn¡¯t have real feelings.


    And that was too far. I was right there, burying my fist in his gut. In the midst of that, I¡¯d somehow thought to give myself just enough purple paint that it actually hurt him, doubling the man over with a strangled wheeze that was even more satisfying than all the times I¡¯d imagined hitting this fucking bastard.


    Fortunately, the two girls whose¡­ honor or humanity or whatever I was defending had really good reflexes themselves. They were taken a bit by surprise considering they couldn¡¯t hear what he said, but they still managed to get there right after I punched him. Paige pulled me away, hooking one arm around my stomach while the other gripped my arm as she bodily turned me away from the man and took a step the other way. Meanwhile, Sierra caught the test tube he had been holding before it could finish falling to the floor, using one hand to shove him backwards.


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    Peyton was quick too, surrounding the man with a box made of her marbles. ¡°Dude!¡± she blurted with a look my way. ¡°Paintball, calm down! He¡¯s just trying to get at you.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± I stammered, forcing myself to relax a little. It was easier now that I wasn¡¯t looking at him. With Paige¡¯s arm around me, I gave a soft sigh, regret filling me as I lowered my voice to a soft whisper that he probably wouldn¡¯t be able to hear. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. He just--never mind. I know he¡¯s just playing games, trying to poke at us.¡±


    Once she was sure that I was under control, Paige hesitantly let go, then stepped back. Her own voice was quiet as well. ¡°What did he say? What set you off?¡±


    Well now I was blushing. Shifting from foot to foot, I exchanged a glance with Peyton before informing both of them of what the man had said. They, in turn, looked to one another before Sierra reached out to flick my visor. ¡°Dude, you think we give a shit what he thinks about how ¡®real¡¯ we are? If he even thinks that at all and wasn¡¯t just trying to goad you into reacting like that.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± I insisted, head bobbing up and down quickly. ¡°Trust me, I know all that. It just--it¡¯s everything. The whole situation, everything he¡¯s done. Look at the city, look at--at everyone he¡¯s hurt. He deserves a lot more than a single punch.¡±


    ¡°He does,¡± Paige agreed. ¡°But he¡¯s not worth it. He¡¯s not worth getting worked up over. We just have to let him keep making this cure, then we can be done with him forever.¡±


    A heavy sigh escaped me before I gestured. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right, I know. I¡¯m okay, I¡¯m good. You can let him out now. I won¡¯t let him get to me anymore. Let¡¯s just make him finish this thing so we never have to listen to him again.¡± Wincing at the thought of how smug the man had to be for managing to make me react like that, I tried to push all of it out of my head. Yes, he was an asshole. That wasn¡¯t exactly news, and I couldn¡¯t let him manipulate me like that. No matter how much he deserved another few hundred punches like the first one.


    Paige, for her part, reached out to squeeze my arm briefly. There was an unreadable look on her face, before she turned to look at Pittman himself as Peyton removed the marble box. He, in turn, looked equal parts curious and content, like he had been almost asleep on his feet while waiting for us to let him out. Once he could see us again, the man raised an eyebrow. ¡°Well, it seems that touched a nerve. You have my apology, Paintball. I had no idea you¡¯d grown so attached to my creations in such a short time. Have they taken up the role of siblings to you? Or perhaps you have a crush. They are quite attractive.¡± His eyes shifted toward Sierra. ¡°Though I have a feeling the body this one seems to have taken would make any relationship even more problematic than you might think. Its¡­ original owner is a bit recognizable.¡±


    Okay, one, he clearly realized which body Sierra had taken. Which made sense, given he obviously knew which ones were lying around waiting to be used. And two, fucking ewwwww. I had to resist the urge to dry heave audibly, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat. Don¡¯t react, I couldn¡¯t react, couldn¡¯t give him any more information.


    Peyton was the one who reacted, turning one of her marbles into a dagger, which placed itself at the man¡¯s throat. ¡°Look, asshole,¡± she snapped a bit sharply, ¡°it¡¯s way past time to be done with this. You and your stupid Sleeptalk bullshit have done more than enough damage. So get back to work. Keep making the cure. We don¡¯t need any more commentary. Shut up and do your job so we can fix my--I mean this.¡±


    It took a second, but I belatedly realized what she was doing. She didn¡¯t actually have anyone who had been affected by this stuff. But now Pittman would think she did, and he¡¯d be spending his time trying to work out if he could figure out who she was thanks to that. There were a lot of people who had been in that building that day. Touched, cops, security, support staff, even some reporters. Not only would it be difficult for him to work out which of them was someone she supposedly cared about, but it was a wild goose chase anyway. It would keep him busy thinking about the wrong thing.


    Yeah, Peyton was pretty damn smart sometimes. Even if she had fallen for an online catfishing trap. Everyone made mistakes.


    To his credit (much as even that thought made me scowl), Pittman didn¡¯t seem to push things any further. He kept silent while his body moved around the lab, once more under the control of the suit his brain was linked to after I had interrupted it with my little outburst. We were all watching intently, but he didn¡¯t try anything else. He didn¡¯t speak up, didn¡¯t try any more command codes, or even look at us really. The man seemed completely content to let his body move on its own while he was lost in thought. And yes, I realized that in some ways that was even more dangerous than him talking or trying to escape were. He was a Tech-Touched, and a smart man besides that. If he was thinking it couldn¡¯t be about anything good for the rest of us.


    But what else were we supposed to do? We couldn¡¯t stop him from thinking. We just had to keep our eyes open and make sure he didn¡¯t get any easy openings. After all, he was the only one who could make this damn cure to get my parents, Irelyn, and everyone else back on their feet.


    Somehow, the man being quiet throughout the remaining twenty minutes seemed worse than when he had been talking. I didn¡¯t know what he was thinking, what he was planning. I couldn¡¯t tell if he really was going off in the wrong direction thanks to Peyton, or if he¡¯d somehow dismissed that. The near-silence from all of us made the sound of glass beakers and vials tapping against each other, liquids boiling on a few different bunsen burners, and the like near deafening. At one point the man picked up a beaker with three different layers of colored liquids in it and started to stir it all together, and the clink of the glass stirring rod almost made me jump.


    It was almost over. My mom and dad, and everyone else, were going to be okay. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly how we were going to deal with Pittman once that part was over, or how well that was going to go. And I certainly wasn¡¯t sure how the Breakwater people were reacting to one of their prisoners literally being snatched right out from under their noses. The others were supposed to be keeping an eye on the news to monitor if anything came up about it. But we didn¡¯t expect it to, not this quickly. The island prison authorities probably wouldn¡¯t be that eager to tell everyone they¡¯d lost one of their inmates.


    Finally, just as I was starting to think this would go on forever or that the man had actually found a way to stall, Pittman set the final beaker down. The liquid inside was a bright orange color with streaks of blue in it, and was heavily steaming. Giving the edge of the beaker two light taps with the stirring rod, he set that aside while announcing, ¡°There we are. All finished.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Sierra¡¯s voice rose a bit as she stared that way. ¡°That¡¯s the cure to Sleeptalk?¡±


    Pittman, however, tilted his head. ¡°Hmm? Oh, no.¡± With that, he reached out, picked up the beaker, and took a deep gulp from it. ¡°It¡¯s congestion medication. I¡¯ve been a bit stuffed up. Though I suppose if this is virtual reality, that won¡¯t do much for me, will it?¡±


    Before I could react, Paige was there. She hadn¡¯t heard what he said, but obviously picked up the gist from him drinking the stuff and his expression. Her hands grabbed his collar and she gave him a hard shove back against the far wall, where he almost fell over. ¡°What did you do?! This thing forces you to move, it controls your motions. There¡¯s no way you could have resisted it. You couldn¡¯t stop yourself from making that cure, unless--¡± She cut herself off, taking a step back in obvious realization.


    With a small, guileless smile, the man offered an easy shrug. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m quite proud of myself for working out that you expected this machine to puppet my actions. And you¡¯re right, there is only one way I could have resisted it and not made that cure you want so badly. And that¡¯s if I don¡¯t know how to make it. Because I didn¡¯t make the Sleeptalk to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Who the fuck did?¡± Sierra blurted while the rest of us were reeling once I passed that revelation on, grabbing a dry erase marker before throwing it to him. ¡°Write it on the board. Write the name of whoever made it on that board!¡±


    The suit was still controlling him, so he couldn¡¯t stop his body from moving to obey. He scrawled the answer on that whiteboard in bright red marker.


    My protege- Amanda Sanvers

 Solution 30-06

    No, no-no-no-no. That was all I seemed to be able to think over the next few minutes. We ejected from the VR machine, leaving Pitman within to keep him out of trouble. He was stuck there in that fake lab, unable to do anything of note. Not that he really needed to do anything just then. He¡¯d already managed to yank the rug out from under us quite thoroughly. Even in his supposedly helpless position, he¡¯d taken us completely by surprise and fairly effectively dismantled our entire plan without even lifting a finger.


    He didn''t make Sleeptalk. It wasn''t his thing. No matter how many special tools we used, we couldn''t force him to make the cure and wake up my parents and the others, because he never designed this stuff in the first place. He hadn¡¯t made it. Cup had. She was the one who had created the fucking stuff all along, from the very beginning.


    ¡°His protege!?¡± Sierra shouted once we were downstairs in the main room once more. Aside, if that was, from Fred and Murphy. Those two were staying up there to keep an eye on the man. Yes, he was trapped in virtual reality and strapped to the bench. He shouldn''t have even been able to move at all, much less find a way to escape and cause even more trouble. But we weren''t stupid. Well, not that stupid anyway.


    ¡°That psycho cunt is his fucking protege?!¡± Sierra was still raging, arms flailing. ¡°I mean, sure, she seems like just his type. They¡¯re both pieces of shit who deserve to be thrown to rabid sharks. But come the fuck on. How the hell did that happen? How could she be working with him?! How long has that been going on?! What--what?¡±


    Qwerty jumped over to my shoulder from the table, patting my hair now that I¡¯d taken the helmet off. ¡°She''s the bad lady from the other day, right? She already surrendered. So can''t you just tell the jail people that she has the cure and they need to tell her to make it? She wants to not go to jail forever, so maybe she¡¯ll do it if they tell her to.¡±


    I grimaced a little despite myself while reaching out to pick up a little fire truck from a shelf full of toys in this section of the shop. Running my hands along the wheels to make them spin helped calm me down a fraction of a percent. ¡°Sure, but how do we convince them that we''re telling the truth? How do we even tell them how we know about that? We can''t exactly say, ¡®hey, we used a machine to teleport this guy off Breakwater and interrogated him. Oh, where¡¯d we get the machine? We broke quarantine to go pick it up in Utah, so yeah that whole car chase thing was us too.¡¯ I don''t think that would go over very well.¡±


    Paige shook her head. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Breakwater would--it wouldn¡¯t be good. We¡¯re talking massive international incident, taking a prisoner off their island. We broke so many laws. Even if they understood why we did it, which is iffy on its own, they¡¯d still have to make an example of us. They¡¯d have to make sure no one else ever tries it.¡±


    ¡°The whole point of Breakwater is that it¡¯s inescapable,¡± Roald pointed out with a visible wince. The blond boy was half-slumped over one of the counters, staring down at his own hands as though in disbelief over the entire situation. Which was fair. ¡°That idea is what keeps things as together and¡­ you know, stable as they are. Having a way to permanently deal with the worst Fells out there is what stops a lot of people from panicking. If they find out one of those prisoners escaped, and that we were the one who took them off that island, they¡­ they won¡¯t let that go. They can¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You know that¡¯s why he didn¡¯t really care about telling us that much,¡± Sierra muttered, sounding as annoyed as I felt. Which still felt odd, coming from my own voice and face. It was like watching a recording of myself that I couldn¡¯t remember making.


    Paige smacked her fist against the wall. ¡°Of course he didn¡¯t. Sure, the suit forced him into it, but he didn¡¯t mind. Because he knows we can¡¯t just tell everyone the truth anyway.¡±


    They were right, of course. We couldn¡¯t just go marching into the hospital or the police station and tell them to get the answers out of Cup. Yes, they had her. She was right there. But we couldn''t explain how we knew that she was behind Sleeptalk. We couldn¡¯t explain any of it, not without revealing far too much that would cause even more problems.


    ¡°Maybe we should do it anyway.¡± That was Wren, the girl standing up straight next to the main cash register. She looked scared, yet determined. ¡°People are sick, they¡¯re hurt. Maybe we should tell them that we did a very bad thing. We¡¯ll have to get in trouble, but¡­ but those people will get help. If we admit what we did, they can do whatever they want to us, and¡­ and still help those other people.¡±


    Her words were met with silence as we all considered them. She had a point. After all, no matter how much trouble we got into, regardless of how bad it was for us, wouldn''t it be worth it if we could help all the people who were sick right now? Including my parents and Irelyn. We could help everyone, and get the city back to the way it had been. We could undo the quarantine and just¡­ fix all of it. We could get Detroit back on track. All we had to do was throw ourselves on the mercy of whoever ended up judging us.


    Paige, however, shook her head after that moment of silence. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t--okay it would help somewhat. But it would still destroy the trust people have in Breakwater. It¡¯d still create an international incident. It might even make some countries leave the Armistice. Which would create even more problems. Even if they believed us, and immediately started forcing Cup to make the cure, we¡¯d create more problems than we solved. Sure, Detroit would get back on its feet¡­ probably, but the overall damage we¡¯d do to everything else would just--it wouldn¡¯t be good.¡±


    Sierra¡¯s head bobbed. ¡°What she said. Doesn¡¯t matter how much we help Detroit if we tear apart the whole international cooperation system by destroying their faith in Breakwater. Even if we¡¯re willing to take that hit, we¡¯d still hurt more than we help.¡±


    Okay, so we couldn¡¯t do that either. I heaved a long sigh, setting the fire truck down before picking up one of the nearby stuffed animals. ¡°We can¡¯t officially admit what we did, but we also couldn¡¯t just tell those people, ¡®Hey we can¡¯t tell you how we know, but Cup¡¯s the one who made that stuff. Just trust us.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Unless we can,¡± Peyton pointed out thoughtfully. When we all looked at her, she shrugged. ¡°I mean, we know she did it, right? Maybe we should interrogate that bastard upstairs a bit more, make him write down what he does know about it. You know, where she made it, where her labs are, that sort of thing. If we can go there and find evidence that she¡¯s the one who created the stuff, we can just tell people we were investigating things because we didn¡¯t want her to get away with claiming she was innocent, found her labs, and figured out she was behind Sleeptalk. We don¡¯t have to tell them we had a headstart on that. We admit to a much lesser bad thing, that we had some information about where her labs were but didn¡¯t tell anyone, and say we wanted to try to find proof that she was still bad and holding things back before she managed to get a sweetheart plea deal.¡±


    I considered that for a minute, turning the thoughts over in my head a bit before looking to the others. ¡°She¡¯s got a point. If we can get proof that Cup is the one who created Sleeptalk, we don¡¯t have to admit to anything else. As far as the rest of the world can be concerned, she made it, she unleashed it. They can deal with that.¡±


    Paige was giving a slow nod, clearly intrigued by the possibility. ¡°That way there¡¯s no reason for them to find out we have Pittman, no reason for any kind of international incident, no reason to stop trusting Breakwater. I mean, they probably should stop trusting Breakwater, honestly, but we don¡¯t have the time or resources to deal with that. And completely breaking down the whole system probably wouldn¡¯t help anything.¡±


    ¡°The point is, we have enough to deal with without being responsible for something like that,¡± Sierra noted with a grimace. ¡°Cassie¡¯s to-do list is long enough as it is. Let¡¯s not add something like, ¡®deal with the aftermath of destroying public trust in Breakwater and ripping apart the entire Armistice international alliance.¡¯ I mean, can you imagine how bad things would be if it was every country for themselves at this point?¡±


    Roald was pacing back and forth, his mop of blond hair getting even more unruly as his head shook rapidly. ¡°We can¡¯t do that, we can¡¯t break the alliance. We can¡¯t do something that makes people start to pull out. They need to work together, they need to keep the Fund going. That¡¯s what helps pay for damages during Touched fights and Collision Points and all that, but it only works because Germany, France, Brazil, Japan, Canada, Australia, the UK, and the US all contribute to the Armistice.¡±


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    We were using the term Armistice as both the name of the team and the name of the agreement between those countries. There was some long official term for the agreement, but it was boring and basically no one actually tended to use it. It was just called Armistice for short. If you were part of the alliance between these countries, you were allowed to have a member on the team known as Armistice. Speaking of which--


    ¡°South Korea now too,¡± I reminded him. ¡°They just officially joined a little while ago. They''ve got a full member on Armistice and everything. A member who--uhh, who were they, again?¡± I¡¯d heard of them having a member officially join and all, but had been a bit distracted away from the details considering everything else going on.


    ¡°Kumiho,¡± Paige informed me. ¡°They are a Joined. Two independent beings physically merged during the Touching process. Like Janus. Or sort of like Theory and Praxis, or our bear and raccoon friends, but they don¡¯t switch places. Both of them are out and active at the same time, just in the same body that¡¯s fully combined. One was a fox, the other a girl. When they Touched and merged, they became a fox-girl. A fox-girl with extra fox ears on top of their head and three tails.¡±


    Part of me felt like that was enough and that we should focus. But on the other hand, Paige seemed a little calmer while she was explaining that. She had been visibly anxious and aggravated this whole time. Being around Pittman clearly wasn¡¯t exactly good for her, especially now that he had revealed that he couldn¡¯t even fix Sleeptalk anyway. After everything we had done to grab and contain him, he still managed to screw us over. I had a feeling that was making Paige feel like she had lost even more control. Control she had desperately been clinging to. And yet, right then while she had been talking about this new Armistice member, she had calmed down a bit. Maybe that could help her think straight?


    So, despite the pressing urgency of our immediate situation, I decided to see if I could help that along. ¡°What can they do, exactly?¡± Get Paige to talk about something else, something unrelated to her father, and maybe she could settle down enough to focus.


    It seemed to work, at least a bit. Paige looked to me briefly before explaining, ¡°According to the press release, they¡¯re Mind-And-Psy-Touched. Enhanced intelligence, instinctive tactical ability that makes them a wizard at spotting potential combat advantages, enhanced senses, they can get sort of a ghostly-image of what someone¡¯s about to do in a fight when they focus on them, and they can project brief images of alternate situations into someone¡¯s mind. You know, while they¡¯re fighting someone, they can make that person see something else happening to distract them. Only lasts for a second or two, but that¡¯s plenty long enough in the middle of a fight.¡±


    Grimacing at the thought of having to deal with someone who could project random distracting images into my head at any point, I replied, ¡°Well, let''s just be glad they¡¯re on the good side, and try not to do anything that could piss them off. Which goes for every member of Armistice, while we''re at it. And that means we need to go with the plan where we expose Cup without tearing apart the entire Armistice alliance in the process. Which means we don¡¯t tell them we have Pittman, or what he said.¡±


    Qwerty sat up a bit on my shoulder. ¡°But what are you gonna do with him after that? If you can''t let them know you took him, or how he got off the island, how are you going to send him back? Can you put him in a big box and mail him anonymously?¡±


    ¡°We could try teleporting him back to the island,¡± Wren tentatively put in, ¡°but I looked at the machine after we brought him here, and it¡¯d take me at least a month to put it back together. Plus a lot more super-expensive supplies. Some of the important stuff in his part of the machine sort of disintegrated. It''s gonna be hard to replace. Even for you guys.¡± She looked back and forth between Paige and me. ¡°The parts are really rare. Maybe I could find a way to umm, get around it, but¡­ uhh¡­ that¡¯s still gonna take awhile.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out when the time comes,¡± I replied, trying to sound as confident as I could. ¡°If we can''t teleport him back, maybe we¡¯ll hand him over to the Ministry and see what they want to do with him. They¡¯ve got resources we don''t.¡± Even as I said that, I couldn¡¯t believe the words were coming out of my mouth. And yet, it was true. Pittman was a threat to everyone, and the Ministry could deal with him in ways we couldn¡¯t. Except that he might tell them things we didn¡¯t want them to know for certain. If he told them Paige was a Biolem, what would happen? What could we--yeah, maybe that was a bad idea in general. But right now, we just had to deal with the immediate problem, all preferably without exposing the fact that we had abducted Pittman in the first place.


    ¡°So that¡¯s what we do, then?¡± Roald put in, looking around at the rest of us. ¡°You guys go back in there and make him give you everything he knows about her labs, then we just hope we can find something in one of those places that can prove she¡¯s the one who made Sleeptalk, so the authorities can force her to make the cure.¡± He paused, taking a breath before adding, ¡°I can umm, talk to Rubi to see if she has any ideas about Pittman and what we could do with him. Without exposing too much about us. Maybe she¡¯ll be able to figure out how to get the parts Wren needs.¡± Belatedly, he added, ¡°But she¡¯s not gonna do it if it gets her in trouble. Not when she just got this job. We¡¯re not¡­ we¡¯re not risking that.¡±


    I felt more than a little bad about potentially putting Rubi in that sort of position at all, even if she did have access we didn¡¯t. With my stomach rolling at the very thought, I gave a firm nod. ¡°You''re right, we''re not going to risk her getting in trouble. We¡¯ll figure something out. Hell, we''re getting ahead of ourselves anyway. Let''s focus on getting what we need out of him first. Maybe he can''t fix this stuff on his own, but he can sure as hell help us figure out how to force Cup to do it. For now, we just have to make sure he doesn¡¯t escape. Obviously, he¡¯s gonna try. And he¡¯s really smart. Not just really smart, he¡¯s a Tech-Touched. A biology-focused Tech-Touched. Who knows what he could pull off if we give him the chance?¡±


    ¡°So we won''t give him the chance,¡± Sierra insisted. ¡°We keep him locked in that virtual reality the whole time so he doesn''t even have access to anything here in the real world. He can just stay trapped in there until we''re ready to figure out how to deal with him.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure the countermeasures will stop that bomb in his head from going off?¡± I asked Paige, really not wanting to even think about what sort of problems we would have if his brain ended up exploding while he was with us. He might¡¯ve deserved it, but¡­ no, we couldn¡¯t let it happen.


    ¡°Bomb won¡¯t explode and they can¡¯t track him,¡± Paige confirmed. ¡°Which is another reason he can¡¯t really escape. The moment he leaves the suppression effect, his brain won¡¯t survive the process. Trust me, he might not care about any of us, but he definitely cares about himself. He won¡¯t risk running off like that. Even if he managed to get out of the simulation, he¡¯d have to take the time to make a portable suppressor or dig the thing out of his brain. Which would give us time to¡­ deal with it.¡±


    Okay, well, at least I felt a little bit better than I had a few minutes earlier when the world had seemed to be ripped out from under us. It still felt like my stomach was going to twist itself into a full-on pretzel even without any pink paint assistance, but now we had a decent plan. We hadn¡¯t completely fucked up, things were just¡­ a little more complicated now.


    Taking a deep breath, I straightened up while giving the others a lingering look. ¡°Right, so we go back in. I think Peyton and I should do that ourselves. No reason to risk Paige and Sierra interacting with him even more.¡±


    Both of them looked like they were going to argue, but eventually gave up. Paige¡¯s voice made her unhappiness clear. ¡°Fine, we won¡¯t go back in with him this time. But don''t let him trick you into talking too much. Don''t tell him anything. Even if you don''t think it''s important, he might still be able to use it. I know it sounds paranoid, but better safe than sorry. Give him nothing. Just take what we need. Make him write down everything he knows about her labs, and don¡¯t engage him in conversation. Don¡¯t rise to any of his bait, no matter what he tries.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea,¡± Sierra put in, raising a hand as she looked my way. ¡°Maybe you should go in there as me. Let him think he has a chance to control you, so he focuses on that instead of some other plan. Let Peyton do the talking, and don¡¯t react as though you can hear him. Just¡­ just pretend you¡¯re me. We¡¯ll put you in my suit and everything. You know, if the machine can¡¯t just be adjusted to make you appear in it anyway.¡±


    I thought about that for a moment before nodding. ¡°Sure, I guess. Anything that makes that bastard focus on the wrong thing. Every little bit helps. But for now, let¡¯s go get some actual answers out of him. Then we¡¯ll go find proof that Cup really is an evil bitch who belongs in Breakwater right alongside him. Come to think of it, if this works out and we can send Cup where she belongs by the time it¡¯s over despite all the games she¡¯s been playing, maybe it¡¯ll be worth all the extra trouble after all.¡±


    With a firm nod at my own words, I set the stuffed animal back down on the shelf to head upstairs. A second later, I turned back and moved the red dragon over a bit, to be with the rest of the set.


    Maybe later I would ask Wren where she had picked up a full Cuddle Corps collection in such great condition.

 Solution 30-07

    So, as planned (and wasn''t that just a hilarious term to use right now), Peyton and I went back into the simulation. I was posing as Sierra, which was a couple layers of ironic. Together, we worked to force the smug man to write down everything he knew about Cup. Not just where her labs could be and what sort of defenses we could expect, but also how they had met, how long they had been working together, and so on. We made him write down the answers to everything we could think of. And more questions that were sent in by the others as they observed from the outside.


    Of course, as soon as he realized that Paige wasn''t inside with us and that the others were listening in, Pittman tried sending a verbal command that way. But we were ready for that. Everything he said was being both delayed so it could be filtered, and was being displayed in text on a screen rather than actual audio. A screen that the others saw before Paige. Time delay and text rather than audio. We weren¡¯t that stupid. Which we made clear to the bastard as soon as he started trying that shit. Not that we told him how we were filtering it, just that Paige still wasn¡¯t hearing him. We didn¡¯t need to give him the full details just so he could try to find a way to work around them.


    I spent the time pretending to be Sierra. Which meant acting like I couldn''t hear his verbal answers, and needing Peyton to translate. And also meant I couldn''t visibly react whenever he said anything that made me want to punch him. At least until it was ¡®translated.¡¯ Which, considering he was still trying to convince Peyton that Sierra and Paige weren¡¯t real people, was fairly often. But I kept it together, helped by the fact that Sierra¡¯s body language would have been hostile and defensive regardless, so I just stuck with that throughout all of it.


    Pittman had a lot to say--or write--on the Cup subject. We tried not to be too overwhelmed by the revelations until we could get out of there and talk to the others about it, but that was difficult considering the subject. The very idea that Pittman and Cup had been working together at all, let alone for years, was staggering. It felt like something that he¡¯d just made up to give us the runaround, but no, it had to be true. That was the only way Pittman being able to avoid making the cure for Sleeptalk made sense. Which, naturally we checked the exact details of what he had put into that thing he drank just to make sure he wasn¡¯t bluffing. Paige and Sierra went over the whole thing with the aid of an internet search and, sure enough, it was a strong congestion medication.


    So, he was telling the truth on that at least. And probably about Amanda too. Which, now that I thought about it, made Cup¡¯s ability to somehow ¡®accidentally¡¯ trip over one of the prototype versions, not to mention come up with a cure for that, make even more sense. We¡¯d thought it was just because the prototype was easier to cure, but hell if she made the stuff to begin with, of course she¡¯d know how to cure it.


    Had Pencil known about her interactions with Pittman? I wasn¡¯t sure, but something made me doubt that. He¡¯d seemed like the jealous type, to be honest. And he probably wouldn¡¯t have been nearly as surprised about her betrayal if he knew about that part.


    Of course, I verified that with several pointed questions about Pencil¡¯s involvement in their little enterprise, and Pittman¡¯s writing confirmed that the man had been completely in the dark. Amanda had been lying to him from the beginning. Which, considering she¡¯d ended up killing him in cold blood, shouldn¡¯t have been at all surprising. And yet, I couldn¡¯t help but be almost impressed by the sheer length and depth of her treachery against the guy who had clearly believed she worshiped him.


    It made me wonder if she was manipulating and using Pittman as well, to be honest.


    In any case, once we had everything we thought we could get out of the man for the moment, we left him in there once more. Keeping him locked up in virtual reality where he couldn¡¯t actually affect anything in the real world was still the best way of preventing him from causing any trouble for us while we were dealing with other things. Which actually briefly made me wonder how well that would work as a way of containing other Fell-Touched rather than a huge murder island. But I didn¡¯t have time to dwell on that too much. We already had more than enough to deal with as it was without me spending time trying to work out the best way to fix the entire superhuman prison issue.


    With Pittman locked in the VR machine, the rest of us gathered to talk about what we had just found out. This time, we stayed in the same room so everyone could participate. He couldn¡¯t hear us anyway, trapped in that artificial world as he was, and we had already performed a very thorough search to make certain he didn¡¯t have any extra tech on him that could record or broadcast what we said. Well, to be clear, he had had those things, but they were disabled and removed. As were all his secret little weapons, bombs, and other things he had been loaded down with. The man had been a walking arsenal, with a mix of hidden technology and biological weapons that he had clearly put together himself. Now all of it was secure in a safe deep underground where Wren had teleported it using a system similar to the one the special bag for my costume used. It would be safe enough over down there until we could deal with it.


    Now, we were all standing around looking at one another, clearly reeling from that whole revelation and everything connected to it. Finally, I found my voice. ¡°Okay, so let¡¯s go over it from the beginning. Pittman was arrested almost five years ago, after Paige sent Bobby information about what he was up to and Bobby managed to expose some of that stuff to the authorities without revealing details about the Ministry or anything like that. Pittman probably could have escaped all on his own, but Bobby made sure he was basically gift-wrapped for the cops to take in.¡±


    An annoyed, heavy grunt escaped Paige before she nodded. ¡°Which should have been the end of it. But it takes time to sentence someone to Breakwater, during which Pittman was sitting in a regular prison cell. Well, not regular, he was definitely more secure than some random drunk driver or B&E guy.¡± She looked over as Qwerty¡¯s paw shot into the air and clarified. ¡°Breaking and entering guy, a burglar. Still, he was sitting in a cell for almost a year, just waiting to be sentenced and sent to Breakwater. Which was inevitable considering the bioweapons the authorities found. And the fact that they found all that stuff is why his actual case was kept so quiet. They didn¡¯t want the public to start panicking about any dangerous shit they didn¡¯t find that could end up going off later.¡±


    Murphy gave a soft little snort at that, her gaze turning to give a hard stare at the man in the tube. ¡°Of course not. And now look at what we¡¯re dealing with. Maybe if the cocksuckers had made it a wider search and involved more people, his shit would''ve been found before now.¡±


    Perched on a nearby table with the surprisingly-detailed recreation of that turtle member of the Cuddle Corps in her lap, Wren tentatively spoke up. ¡°He said this was just a little after Cup--I mean Amanda got her powers, right? So she was--um, still exploring what she could do and how she could get different tech ideas by using her crazy question trick on different people. Especially smart people.¡± She absently rubbed her hand over the stuffed turtle¡¯s shell.


    ¡°Which made her want to try it on a Tech-Touched,¡± Roald put in. ¡°So when she found out from one of the cops she was¡­ interrogating that they had one locked up in solitary, she found a way to sneak in and get a face to face meeting with Pittman himself. Which is how they started talking for the first time. She either couldn¡¯t or wouldn¡¯t get him out of the cell, but she could pose as a guard to sneak in and chat.¡±


    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t be surprised by the lack of proper oversight in our prisons,¡± Fred muttered mostly under his breath from where he was standing near the door, ¡°but here we are. This guy is a dangerous biology-focused Tech-Touched and someone was able to just pose as a guard and go have long chats with him? Sure, she¡¯s Touched too, but come on. The kid has a better security set-up just for the shop.¡±


    Wren, for her part, blushed a little before shaking her head. ¡°They probably do have a lot of security. But like you said, she¡¯s Tech-Touched, so she can break it. Plus she has that other power. Any time anyone finds her, she could just distract them and probably drug them or something. It umm¡­¡± She squirmed a bit uncomfortably. ¡°When we put our minds to it, there¡¯s a lot of dangerous stuff we can make.¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I pointed out, ¡°and it¡¯s not like she had a lot of morals holding her back. She was pretty motivated to get in there and talk to him, apparently. And once she managed it, he was able to give her tips and point her to his own supplies.¡±


    Sierra was pacing back and forth, clearly as agitated as the rest of us. ¡°That¡¯s how Cup got such a boost early on, enough to outfit Pencil as well as she did. Fuck, it should¡¯ve been obvious. I mean, come on, Daddy Dearest¡¯s whole thing is biotech, and so much of Pencil¡¯s gear was built into his body. That was the whole reason it was so impossible to catch him, cuz he had teleportation tech installed inside himself!¡±


    In a voice that sounded just as self-recriminating as her sister¡¯s, Paige nodded. ¡°Sure, it makes perfect sense now. Everyone always just thought they stole the tech from other Touched and people they killed. Which, you know, they did in some cases. Probably just to keep up the illusion. No idea what she told Pencil about where most of the stuff came from. Maybe he really thought she came up with it completely by herself.¡±


    ¡°Whatever she told him,¡± Peyton noted, ¡°the point is he didn¡¯t know she was working with Pittman. And Pittman kept giving Cup everything she needed to help the Scions get off the ground. It was his idea to start the whole ¡®pretend to be Abyssal worshippers and recruit people that way¡¯ thing. Pittman was like her mentor.¡±


    ¡°Not that he did that for free,¡± I pointed out. ¡°She helped him set up his entire escape plan. Multiple plans, actually. She''s the one who made sure his labs stayed secret. Enough of them, anyway. She moved most of his supplies, helped get his Biolem soldiers out of sight, even tuned them up under his instructions. She''s the whole reason he was able to do so much even after being sent to Breakwater. We thought he was working through his Biolems or something, but he had a whole other Tech-Touched working for him the entire time.¡±


    Paige punched a wall before giving Wren an apologetic look for the outburst. Wren, for her part, seemed more than willing to forgive it. But Paige still seemed abashed as she gave a long, heavy sigh. ¡°I always wondered how he was able to do so much. I thought he was just that prepared, that I didn''t take him by surprise with my betrayal after all. Now it turns out it would''ve been fine, or at least better, if it wasn''t for Amanda Fucking Sanvers going to the bastard for tutoring on how to be a better monster.¡±


    We all fell silent for a moment, pondering what life would''ve been like if that never happened. But it wasn''t worth dwelling on for long. This was the world we were living in and we had to deal with it. Straightening up, I cleared my throat. ¡°Anyway, so she helped him set up everything, all of it. Including making sure he had a way to contact people off the island. She used her own powers to come up with a way of sending technology straight to him. That''s how he had a phone that he could call off the island with. Which means that teleporter right there is based on her tech. And yeah, that shouldn¡¯t surprise us, I guess, because his whole thing is biology. She''s the one who made the teleporter. And that''s why it wasn''t hard to program the thing to target his DNA. That''s what the damn thing was meant to do in the first place.¡±


    Roald raised a hand before adding, ¡°He knew they were going to make sure he went to Breakwater, so they put all that together as a long term plan. He was ready to wait it out until Paige got old enough for that whole killing Cassidy and being sent to Breakwater herself so they could break out together thing. Hell, he was probably using that time to enhance people over there, the ones he could convince to work with him. Then, when they did get out, he''d have an army of enhanced superpowered Fell-Touched killers alongside his Biolems.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± Murphy put in, ¡°while he was doing his thing on murder island, Amanda found out the safe with Overseer¡¯s dolls wouldn''t open for them. Not without the biological relative of the people who locked it.¡±


    My face twisted a bit, as I clenched a fist. ¡°Or a Biolem copy of that person. Who better to make a perfect identical clone that could fool that safe than someone like Pittman. His whole thing is making biological copies.¡± My hand gestured back and forth between Sierra and myself pointedly. ¡°So Amanda needed him to get off that island even more. She needed him here so he could build the Biolem as soon as they identified who the kid was. Or, hell, maybe he could just make a Biolem out of one of his parents, the ones who locked the safe in the first place. There''s no reason a clone of one of them couldn''t get in, assuming Cup could get a hold of usable DNA. I don''t know, maybe the Ministry made sure the bodies were thoroughly burned, but she might have kept a trophy from when they killed them in the first place.¡±


    Pacing right alongside her sister, Paige growled. ¡°That''s why she created the Sleeptalk stuff in the first place. They needed a plague that he could be blamed for so they''d take him off Breakwater. Once it was obvious the plan to get me sent there wasn''t going to work, they must have moved on to that one. They just needed the authorities to think he was the one who could cure the plague. Then they could break him out of whatever secure area they put him in to make the cure, and the two of them could work together to build the Biolem they need to open the safe. Which would have given him the ability to control a whole bunch of people, including a lot of the Touched who were around back when Overseer was planning to move here.¡±


    We all considered that for a minute before Qwerty piped up. ¡°But why would she offer to surrender and give the safe to the Ministry if they were so close to faking a way into it? Wasn''t the plan working?¡± He was nervously chewing on more popcorn out of his paws, his fluffy tail touching back-and-forth while he looked between all of us.


    Fred offered a hesitant, ¡°Maybe they decided to change the plan once it was obvious that you guys weren''t going to tell the authorities he was the one behind it? He did make his involvement pretty clear when he called you before. He wanted you to panic and tell them so they''d yank him off the island themselves. When you didn''t, maybe Amanda decided to go rogue and do something else. Or maybe this is still part of their plan and we just don''t know where it''s going yet.¡±


    Personally, I was planning on assuming that all of this was part of Pitman''s plan so I could be pleasantly surprised if it turned out he wasn''t actually in control. As far as I was concerned, we had no reason to believe that what Cup was doing was against Pittman''s wishes. Now that we knew the two of them had been working together, I was pretty sure they were going to keep doing so.


    Still, I told myself to focus on what we could deal with right now. ¡°We still need to prove Amanda is the one who is working with him. Without exposing what we''ve been doing. So, we have the list of her labs, or at least the ones that Pittman knows about. I say we start there and search those labs for the proof we need. We can worry about the other stuff later. That should be our next--wait, our next move after one more thing.¡±


    I told the others what I was planning. There was some discussion and debate about it, but in the end, they agreed it was the best thing to do. So, I took my phone and called the Ministry, identifying myself (as Paintball, of course) before asking to speak to Ministers Gray or someone with equal authority.


    About two minutes passed before I heard the raccoon¡¯s voice. ¡°If this is about wanting a hug, I swear kid--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make the deal with Amanda Sanvers,¡± I interrupted. ¡°We know she¡¯s offering to give you something very important. Don¡¯t accept it yet. Don¡¯t do anything she wants. She¡¯s the one behind Sleeptalk. We can¡¯t tell you how we know that yet, or prove it, but we¡¯re working on it. I give you my word, it¡¯s the truth. Just hold off on doing anything with her until we can prove she made this stuff. If you work with her, you¡¯ll regret it.¡±


    There was a brief pause before the raccoon¡¯s voice came back once more, a bit harder. ¡°Exactly how certain are you?¡±


    ¡°One hundred percent,¡± I replied simply. ¡°We¡¯re working on proof, and anything else we can find that might help. Just don¡¯t do anything drastic like break her out or anything. Stall her while we¡¯re looking. You¡¯ll know when we find something.¡±


    With that, I disconnected, letting out a long breath. ¡°Okay, that should buy us some time, at least. Now I guess we need to back up what I said and find that proof.¡±


    The other started to agree, before Roald abruptly cursed and jumped up from his seat. His phone was in his hand as he stared down at it. Realizing we were all looking at him, he grimaced and exchanged a brief glance with Murphy, who seemed just as confused as the rest of us. ¡°Uh, we might have a more immediate problem. I just got a text from Rubi. They were transferring Amanda to some other facility.¡±


    Sierra groaned. ¡°Do not tell me she already escaped. I mean, I knew it was bound to happen at some point, but that''s a little bad even for them.¡±


    Roald shook his head. ¡°Nope. Turns out Cu¨¦lebre and his people found out about the transfer, so they attacked the convoy. The authorities don''t exactly have a lot of manpower, so they can''t hold out for long. Not against Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s entire army. It sounds like they''re really intent on killing Amanda themselves.¡±


    He didn''t have to say anything else. We were already starting to move. Yes, we needed to find the proof of Cup¡¯s involvement in her labs, but first we had to make sure she didn''t die. We had to get out there and save her life.


    Or there would be no one left who could cure Sleeptalk and save all those people.

 Non-Canon 32 - Cuelebre Knows Austen

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    With a ratty old red backpack hanging off one shoulder, Austen Deleon strolled casually past a Latino man with a shotgun as she made her way through the rear door of the old factory where several members of the Oscuro gang were working on an armored truck they¡¯d managed to steal from a bank job. The money within had been a nice bonus, of course. But the real prize was the truck itself, which was why it had to be taken intact. Some of their people had had an idea about outfitting it with some guns before sending it into their next fight in their war with the Easy Eights. They could even reinforce it with extra armor, and soup up the engine so the thing could get in and out of conflict even faster. Those chumps would never see it coming.


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    Well, they wouldn¡¯t have seen it coming, if Austen herself hadn¡¯t secretly been the leader of the Easy Eights. Being both a low-level nobody runner for one gang, and the leader of their rivals tended to complicate things when it came to keeping secrets.


    Of course, she needed to find a way to explain her people finding out about this plan which wouldn¡¯t expose her link to them. One that wouldn¡¯t throw any other member of Oscuro under the bus. Or at least not the wrong member. There were a few she wouldn¡¯t mind getting out of the way with a frame job. But that could get complicated. Police surveillance that was bribed out of them maybe? Hmm¡­


    Lost in thought about all that, Austen carried the bag through the factory, past the workers going over the armored truck, and headed for the back office. There, she found a gray-haired man reading a porno with his feet up on the desk. ¡°Gus!¡± Taking the bag off her shoulders, she held it out to him. ¡°Hank said to bring this here.¡±


    Without looking up from the tits he was very intently studying, Gus replied, ¡°You check out what¡¯s in the bag?¡±


    In Spanish, Austen retorted, ¡°Do I look like an idiot to you?¡± She turned the bag so he could see the padlock on it. It was a heavy duty model, Touched-Tech. Any attempt to mess with it or the bag itself would send an alert to whoever had the remote for it. Beyond that, she knew there were no books or paper inside, no writing for her power to pick up on. There hadn¡¯t been time for her to take the bag back to let Deicide¡¯s people check it out. They had been expecting her here. Besides, it couldn¡¯t be that important if they were trusting some nobody like her to carry it. Important enough to make sure a runner (or any cops who stopped her) couldn¡¯t easily get at it probably just meant it was drugs or something.


    Gus still didn¡¯t look up from his porno. Which, to be fair, they were nice tits. Instead, he just grunted. ¡°Not for me.¡± Turning the page to check out the backside of the model he had been staring at, the man gave a quick motion with his head, jerking it to one side where an open door waited. ¡°Through there, take the stairs down. Boss wants the bag.¡±


    Austen started to move, only to catch herself and turn back on her heel to stare that way. ¡°Boss. Wait, you don¡¯t mean--¡±


    ¡°Do you want to be the one who keeps him waiting?¡± Gus casually, yet pointedly asked with his gaze laser-focused on the model. ¡°Must be dumber than you look.¡±


    Okay, this¡­ this was going to complicate things. Thus far, Austen had managed to avoid being around her bio-father beyond a few large group settings when he was far away and occupied with the crowd. If she was supposed to personally take this bag to him, they would be one on one. A small, impulsive part of her thought that could be a good thing. Being face-to-face with the monster she hated so much for abandoning her mother would give her a free shot at him. A shot he would never see coming. She had paper with her, naturally. If she could hit him in the right spot with it¡­


    No, that wouldn''t work. Not quickly enough, anyway. Not before he could fight back. She was under no real illusions about that. Sure, that small part of herself may have been piping up about taking Cu¨¦lebre by surprise, but the rest of her was telling that part to shut up and calling it a moron. It didn''t matter how surprised he was, there was no way she would be able to kill him by herself in close quarters before he retaliated. Her power was strong, but he wasn''t exactly a pushover. There was a good chance that he was the strongest single Touched in the city in a straight up slugging match. Which anything she did right now would lead to.


    No, her best move right now was to get in and out while making as little of an impression as possible. She didn''t want her father to pay any attention to her. The primary benefit she had in this position was being invisible, a nobody who most of the gang barely knew existed. It gave her access, a chance to know at least some of what they were doing, which she used to give her real gang an advantage here and there.


    Heh, her real gang. As if they weren''t also a means to an end. She had done all of this, had brought those disparate gangs together and taken over, specifically to make them strong enough to challenge her father, and one day kill him. But only after they tore apart everything he had, ripped it down around him, left him with nothing. Only then, when she could show the monster exactly who had taken everything away from him, would she reveal herself. Only then would she tell him that all of this had been payback for abandoning her, and her mother. His abandonment had led directly to her mother being drawn into that fucking cult.


    He left them alone because he didn''t want to be weighed down. He didn''t want the responsibility, so he abandoned them. And because of that, Austen had lost her mother as well. She was going to make him pay for that.


    But only when the time was right. For now, she needed to drop this shit off and leave without giving her father any reason to even think twice about her. So, taking a deep breath, she adjusted the bag and walked through the door. Fortunately, Gus wouldn''t think there was anything odd about her hesitation. It only made sense that the prospect of meeting Cu¨¦lebre one on one would be intimidating, even for members of his own gang.


    Through the doorway was a set of stairs, as promised. She took them gradually, letting the sound of each footstep echo through the area. It probably wasn¡¯t possible to take Cu¨¦lebre by surprise in his own territory, but she wanted to be absolutely certain she didn¡¯t do it even by accident. Thump, thump, thump, going down those heavy metal steps into the basement (were factories even supposed to have basements?) felt like walking to her own execution under the circumstances. Would he hear her heart beating? She wasn¡¯t sure how good his senses were, to be honest. It wasn¡¯t something most people tended to ask. Or at least they didn¡¯t spread the answers.


    The basement was wide open, and rather large at almost two hundred feet wide, equally long, with a ceiling a good twenty feet up. But that was to be expected when its primary resident stood about sixteen feet tall. He was truly massive, a fact Austen was reminded of when her eyes immediately fell on him. It wasn¡¯t like there was much else down here. The floor and walls were stone, there was an enormous television taking up all of one of those walls, and what had to be a specially-made sofa built specifically for the man himself. Other than that, he was the only thing down here. He stood right in the middle of the room, staring as Austen arrived. Like he had been waiting for her. Like this whole thing was--


    Breathe, Austen. Breathe. He didn¡¯t know her from any other runner in his gang. He was waiting for the bag, the bag. That was all.


    Stopping short, she stared up at him for a second. Of course this wasn¡¯t really her first time facing the man. But every other time she¡¯d done so was from within the safety of her paper armor, as Deicide. Or even through the lens of a camera she¡¯d hidden inside the otherwise empty armor. This was different. Now she wasn¡¯t Deicide. She was just Austen, facing Cu¨¦lebre.


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    Facing her father.


    ¡°He--¡± Her voice caught, and she forced a cough while shifting the bag off her shoulders to hold it up. ¡°Here, boss. You wanted this?¡±


    He didn''t respond. At least, not audibly. After a brief moment, the massive monster extended his hand slowly and put one finger out, clearly waiting. Austen stared at it, a quick impulse to cut it off with a paper blade flashing through her mind before she handed over the bag and hooked it on his finger. As soon as it was out of her hands, she started backing up. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re busy with all the¡­ everything. I know my way out.¡± With that, she was already heading for the steps.


    For the first time, he spoke, the words bringing her to a halt. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to see what you were carrying? I know you must be curious. Runners like you never get to see what¡¯s so important. I¡¯ve been in that position, believe it or not.¡±


    Oh, there was so much Austen wanted to say to that. But she contained herself and shrugged. ¡°If this is a trick or a trap, sir, I uhh¡­ I don¡¯t think you need all the theatrics. I didn¡¯t look in the bag. You would¡¯ve known if I did.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a trap,¡± Cu¨¦lebre informed her, in a tone that was half-amused and half-something she couldn¡¯t read. Pride was her first guess, but that would be weird. His other hand moved down, using a single claw to cut through the lock. Then he tossed the bag back to her, watching as she caught it. ¡°Go ahead. You have my permission to look. I promise, it won¡¯t bite.¡±


    Murmuring under her breath that it wasn¡¯t the bag she was worried about, Austen slowly unzipped it. She had no idea what this was about, why the monster was playing this game. Why wouldn¡¯t he just let her leave? What interest could he possibly have in her. What--


    Then she opened the bag to look inside, and the first thing she saw¡­ was herself. It was full of pictures of her, photographs from Austen¡¯s childhood, before her mother was ensnared by the cult. That hadn¡¯t happened until she was eleven. Before then, she and her mother lived here in Detroit, with Austen splitting her time between the library and pulling cons on unsuspecting tourists so she could save up money for college. It was¡­ a very different time in her life, one she didn¡¯t think about very much these days aside from using the pickpocketing and lockpicking skills she¡¯d picked up to help her guise as a minor member of Oscuro. And now, here it was, right in front of her. All these pictures, taken at school, or by her mother for their home. Dozens of them, from every stage in her life all the way up until the so-called Church Of The Lamb had dug their claws into her mom.


    ¡°She kept all those pictures,¡± Cu¨¦lebre informed her in a low voice. He had moved to sit on that oversized couch, lowering himself into it with a grunt. ¡°They were in a safe buried in a lot near your old apartment. Guess she didn¡¯t trust banks.¡±


    He knew. That realization came screaming its way into Austen¡¯s mind while she was staring at her own image. He knew who she was--this was a trap, it was a fucking trap and she just walked into it! She was right in front of him. Paper, she had paper, that could buy her time to break up through the swarm of troops that were obviously gathering to cut off her escape with--


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Those two words cut through Austen¡¯s panic and brought her entire thought process screeching to a halt, her train of thought completely derailing. Cu¨¦lebre was staring at her. But there wasn¡¯t glee or vindication in his expression. She¡­ she wasn¡¯t sure what that look was, or what she was supposed to take from his tone.


    ¡°I always thought my life was dangerous and stupid,¡± the monster muttered softly, ¡°before all this. The drugs, the--all of it, I knew it was gonna get me killed. But I didn¡¯t have anything else I wanted to stay alive for. I didn¡¯t really care, to be honest. If I died, I died. Then I had a daughter, I had a little girl. And I told myself, ¡®this is it, this is your reason for living, this is how you¡¯re gonna get off that shit.¡¯ Now you¡¯ve finally got something to focus on that¡¯s better than the drugs.


    ¡°Thing is, addiction doesn¡¯t work like that. Or, it didn¡¯t for me, at least. I didn¡¯t get help when I could¡¯ve. I didn¡¯t see a professional. Having a kid, maybe that could¡¯ve been an impetus to do the actual work it takes to quit, but it¡¯s not gonna magically turn off the urge like a fucking lightswitch. So, I did it again. I thought it would just be one more time, just to help me chill out a little bit so I could be a good dad and focus. Then one more time turned into another time, and before I knew it, I was hiding in the basement of a crackhouse from the cops and my old dealer. When the cops did show up, I did a runner. Barely made it over a fence with the damn dogs nipping right out my heels. But that was it for me, landed wrong on the other side and just laid there while the cops were coming around the other side. Thought I was done before that orb showed up. I touched it and uhh¡­ well, they didn¡¯t stand a chance of taking me in after that. And I didn¡¯t have any more addiction issues. Having a kid might not have flipped that switch, but turning into this did.¡± He gestured to his massively-transformed body.


    Austen, who had been silent the whole time as she gradually came to understand that there wasn¡¯t about to be a horde of Oscuro troops charging down the stairs, or even waiting for her up there, frowned. The words came before she thought about them. ¡°You¡¯re apologizing for being a fucking addict?¡±


    There was a soft grunt from the monster, as he shifted himself on the couch. ¡°I¡¯m apologizing for my choices. The ones I could control. I chose not to get the help I needed, when I could have. I saw you, your tiny hands and those¡­ those wisps of hair and I could have chosen right then and there to do the work to get clean. I didn¡¯t. I thought I could do it myself, that I didn¡¯t need to get help. I was lying to myself because I wanted it to be easy. I wanted to take that easy way and just flip that switch. I should have done the work. I failed you and your mother.¡±


    He let that hang in silence for several long seconds before adding, ¡°But then, I did something even worse. When I was better, when I was cured by this, I didn¡¯t go back to you and your mother. Believe it or not, I thought I was doing the right thing. At least, I told myself I thought that. Bringing both of you into this life felt wrong. But the thing is, I didn¡¯t check. I didn¡¯t give either of you the choice, and I never went to see how either of you were. Maybe I didn¡¯t want to find out you weren¡¯t. Maybe part of me thought that if I saw that you needed me, I wouldn¡¯t be free. Whatever the reason, I made the choice. I made the wrong choice. I¡¯m sorry, Austen. I fucked up, and I wasn¡¯t there when you needed me. I wasn¡¯t there when she needed me. I made my choices, they were wrong. I uhh¡­. I went looking for you both after this Sleeptalk stuff started happening. I just wanted to know you were both alright. Found a note she hid about that safe and uhh¡­ and that led to that fucking cult. I never--¡± He rose to his feet once more, tail lashing out behind him. ¡°I never knew. I never knew because I never checked. And then when I found out the cult was disbanded, I asked a couple people to find one of you. Imagine my surprise when they knew exactly who and where you were. You were right here that whole time. You knew, didn¡¯t you? You knew who I was and what¡­. you knew I abandoned you. But you still came. You came here to¡­ to confront me about what happened to your mother? You wanted to yell at me, but you didn¡¯t. You just stayed around. Why?¡±


    He didn¡¯t know she was Deicide. He didn¡¯t know what she was capable of. Through a lump in her throat, Austen forced herself to speak. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    For several long seconds, neither of them said anything else. There was silence. Then Cu¨¦lebre finally broke it with a soft, ¡°Do you know where your mother is?¡±


    She didn¡¯t expect that question. Her gaze snapped up, myriad thoughts stampeding through her mind before her head shook. ¡°She¡­ disappeared. I don¡¯t even know if she¡¯s alive.¡±


    ¡°I think she is,¡± Cu¨¦lebre informed her, his voice barely audible. ¡°I¡¯d like to find her. Wherever she is, whatever she¡¯s doing, I¡¯d like to know for sure. I¡¯d like¡­ your help doing that.¡± He hesitated briefly before pushing onward. ¡°I screwed up, Austen. I screwed up a lot. But I don¡¯t want to screw up anymore. I want to find your mother and help her, if we can. I¡¯m sorry for¡­ for everything. Will you help me find her, please?¡±


    When Austen¡¯s gaze met his, the man was holding his enormous hand out to her. She stared that way, her stomach twisting itself into knots. Her mother. He wanted to help her find her mother, and¡­ and... but she had¡­ but he was¡­


    Her vengeance could wait. She¡¯d waited this long. She could keep it together and play along with him long enough to find her mom. Then¡­ then her mother would be able to see him pay for what he did.


    Putting her own comically smaller hand into the man¡¯s offered grip, Austen replied, ¡°Yeah.


    ¡°That sounds nice.¡±

 Solution 30-08

    A uniformed cop was scrambling backwards on his hands and knees, fumbling to reload the pistol that had just clicked on empty. He was trying to get back under the cover of a parked car in the middle of the street, its doors left open after the people within abandoned it when the fight had broken out. Unfortunately, the two armed Oscuro Prevs were hot on his heels. The nearest, with a shotgun, howled in maniacal triumph while raising his weapon to take aim. He and his partner were savoring this victory.


    They savored it for a bit too long. Just before he could pull the trigger, I went sailing just over both of their heads, using twin shots of red paint to yank the weapons out of their hands and off against a nearby wall, safely out of reach.


    Just as they were reacting to that, I hit the ground in front of them. My right hand snapped up with a purple assisted punch to put the first man on the ground wheezing for breath. By the time his partner realized what was happening, I used a blue-green mix on my feet to propel myself into him. My hundred pound weight crashed into the guy at top speed, knocking him over onto the ground where he lay groaning. I might have been small, but so were cannon balls, and they could do a lot of damage at high speed. Especially when that cannonball followed up the initial impact by rearing back its fist to punch you in the face three times in quick succession. He was left dazed. As was his already-wheezing partner when my foot snapped out to kick that guy in the face before he could recover.


    Two guys down for the moment. Five if we counted the really big guy that Poise and Style had crashed into, and the two that Alloy had caught with a giant fist made out of her marbles so she could throw them down the street and out of the way. Sure, all of them were Prevs rather than any of the Touched, but they still had guns. Dismissing them as a threat just because they didn¡¯t have powers would¡¯ve been pretty stupid.


    And speaking of mistakes we could¡¯ve made, it had been really tempting to split up and only send some of us to help fight Oscuro while the others got started searching Cup¡¯s old labs. After all, the sooner we found independent proof of her involvement, the sooner we could convince the people in charge to force her to give them the cure. Unfortunately, that would''ve been a pretty bad move. Anxious as we were to get this done with, Cu¨¦lebre and his people were too dangerous to take that sort of risk. Hell, Cu¨¦lebre by himself was too much a threat, let alone when his army of goons were added into the mix. It wouldn''t matter how much proof we managed to get about Cup being behind Sleeptalk if she died before she could be forced to fix it.


    No, as desperate as I was to make sure my parents were cured as soon as possible, we had to take this one step at a time. And right now, the next step was making sure the only person who could make that cure didn''t get herself killed by a giant pissed off demon man. And yes, I was fully aware of the irony that I had to save the person responsible for my parents¡¯ condition in the first place so she could fix them. I was trying not to think about it.


    We quickly got suited up and headed out. Well, most of us did. Fred, Qwerty, and Wren stayed behind to watch over Pittman. I didn''t want to leave Fred all by himself against a guy like that, and Wren knew how to work all of the defenses in case anything happened. And Qwerty was a bit squishy to go up against Cu¨¦lebre, especially this early on. Besides, he could help Wren work up the best ways to get into and search Cup¡¯s labs using the information we¡¯d taken from Pittman. None of us expected him to have known every defense she had, but it was a place to start from.


    So those three could watch over our prisoner and work on the plan to get into the labs. Meanwhile, the rest of us were going to help deal with this situation. And just hope that we could actually¡­ uuuuggggghhh save Amanda Sanvers¡¯ life. Because none of our lives had been weird enough as it was, apparently.


    With these guys down, I took stock of the immediate situation. The three armored cars that had been escorting Amanda were on fire, broken down, just¡­ done. They were scattered across the street in pieces. There were a handful of mixed cops and security personnel crouched behind a couple other cars on the left side of the street, exchanging shots with Oscuro Prevs on the right side, but mostly staying in cover. They were protecting the old shoe store right near the intersection, where those in charge of keeping Amanda contained had retreated into the manager¡¯s office with their prisoner. From what we¡¯d heard, they had been looking for the back exit, but Oscuro had the alley there blocked off. Apparently Yahui was back there, the Fell who could manifest various animal parts anywhere on her body. She was some sort of massive rhino-scorpion-bear thing right now. Between her and the heavily-armed Prevs with her, the Shields didn¡¯t stand a chance of getting out that way. Cu¨¦lebre had planned this particular ambush well, clearly knowing where the escorts would flee. Only some very quick thinking and a couple lucky shots had stopped the cops and their prisoner from being snatched up immediately. But now they were pinned down in there.


    Obviously, the threat wasn''t limited to Prevs. Cu¨¦lebre and the rest of his Fells were here too. The big man himself was the most immediate and dangerous problem. Which was why Caishen, Stick, Linesight, and Rubi (or Flurry, which I really needed to think of her as) were all focused primarily on him. The fifteen-foot-tall blue-violet demon was right in the middle of the intersection, keeping as much focus on himself as possible. He knew they had to use every Touched they had just to stop him from walking right through the rest of their troops. Which was giving his people time to try to break through the line of cops and security people to get at Amanda. This was getting very ugly very quickly.


    Of course, he and Yahui weren¡¯t exactly the only Touched they had. The others probably would¡¯ve already made it into the shop and finished this whole thing if it wasn¡¯t for the Minority, who showed up shortly before we did.


    Coverfire, the Oscuro guy in the red trench coat and welding mask with the skintight forcefield that could melt through anything, was stumbling dizzily as Wobble pummeled him with wave after wave of nausea-inducing vibrations. Unfortunately, his forcefield was preventing the worst of the damage, and he was very slowly yet steadily managing to push forward.


    Meanwhile, there was Silb¨®n, another of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s men. He was a guy wearing clothes that looked ragged and torn, with a dark gray mask that left his mouth uncovered, and wide-brimmed black hat. He was giving a low, eerie whistle as he walked right through a torrent of water and glass shards that Raindrop and Fragile were sending at him. The whistling made him immune to not only the impact, but even stopped Raindrop from using her gravity manipulation on his wet form. He was immune to everything they did as long as he was whistling.


    Worse, a second later his whistle changed from an eerie tune to a sharp, violent one. Raindrop immediately jerked and fell, bleeding from the arm and shoulder as his whistle took on the sharp properties of Fragile¡¯s glass. And Fragile herself was knocked down the street by the next whistle, which sent a firehose-like rush of water slamming into her. Silb¨®n was immune to basically everything while whistling, and he could absorb and redirect the effects of those attacks within his whistle.


    Those were the current Fell members of Oscuro we actually knew about, the established ones after Grandstand had left. But they weren¡¯t alone. Even as I was reflexively launching myself over to check on Izzy, I saw the first of Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s new recruits come running across the street toward the entrance of the shoe store. He was a big guy (not as big as Cu¨¦lebre himself, but a solid seven feet of muscle), wearing a cliche gangster outfit that looked like it came straight out of the nineteen twenties.


    That was Thugdumb, there was no question. But if that was him, then those cops really shouldn¡¯t--


    Too late. Two guys by the doors had immediately opened fire on the incoming man. Neither of their bullets did any damage to the big guy. But that wasn''t the worst part. Not only did they not manage to do any damage, the two men were immediately affected by Thugdumb¡¯s actual power. The nearest one dropped his gun and blurted a quick, ¡°I know how to scare him off!¡± He then proceeded to drop onto his hands and knees and start barking like a dog.


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    The other cop scoffed at that, insisting he had a better plan. Rather than trying to scare the man away by barking, he chose to wave his hands in the air and shout, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m the one you¡¯re looking for, it¡¯s me!¡± Then he turned and ran off down the street.


    That was, as far as I understood it from looking online, the biggest part of Thugdumb¡¯s power. Sure, he was practically invulnerable. But worse than that, anyone who tried to hit him would start coming up with the most ridiculous, absurd and useless ¡®plans¡¯ to deal with the situation they were in. Also there was something about people he hit being misunderstood so that anything they said would sound like nonsense to everyone else no matter how right they were. It was a recipe for a real mess, to say the least. He was supposed to be really hard to deal with, since you couldn''t hurt him without completely losing your mind for a short, yet crucial few seconds. So no wonder Cu¨¦lebre had recruited the guy as part of the deal for sending Janus, Juice, and Devil¡¯s Due over to the¡­ ugh, Trendscendants.


    Hoping against hope that this wouldn¡¯t count as an attack that would leave me acting like a moron, I hit the ground in front of the running man with a spray of pink and activated it. His feet went right through the painted cement, making him sink up to his waist almost immediately. It wasn¡¯t a direct attack, since I¡¯d targeted the ground, not the man himself. If anything, his feet had attacked the ground. So, I managed to keep my head for the time being.


    And speaking of keeping my head, Hobbes shouted a warning while pointing her Tech rifle at me. Before I knew what was happening, she caught me in the energy tendril from it and yanked me forward, toward her. In that same instant, a rock sailed through the air right where my head had been before exploding Into a burst of dark blue mist. That mist began to eat a hole through the brick wall nearby.


    It was the second of the trio of new Oscuro Touched, Luz Mala. They looked like a glowing skeleton. More to the point, the body armor they wore looked that way. It was black, with what looked like heavily-reinforced glass over the arms, legs, chest, and back with brightly colored greenish liquid inside. Their face was covered by a skeleton mask, with a black hood. The eyes of the skull-mask were made of that same glowing green liquid.


    Luz Mala¡¯s powers allowed them to charge up any object they could hold, turning it into a bomb. But rather than a normal explosion, the charged objects would burst apart into various types of gas. Apparently they could even create gas that would heal people if they wanted to.


    From what I¡¯d heard, they rarely wanted to.


    Skidding to a stop next to Hobbes, I muttered a quick thanks, before hitting two incoming charged bricks with a spray of yellow from one hand and green from the other. The combination made both bricks freeze in midair, just for a second before wearing off. That was long enough for the noxious smoke that burst out of them to stay over there instead of filling the air right where the two of us were standing. Sure, my helmet filtered out toxins, but I wasn¡¯t absolutely sure of what that stuff could do. Besides, Murphy was beside me and I was pretty sure her ski mask and goggles didn¡¯t include the gas shielding option just yet.


    Either way, the bricks exploded over there, and I was about to follow up with a shot of red at the man himself. But before I could, something appeared on the ground right in front of us. It looked like a circular pool of tar, about three feet across with the edge bumping right up close to our toes. Even as my attention snapped down at that, a tendril of the tar stuff stretched up from the middle and started to reach for us. Instantly, my hand caught hold of Hobbes by the arm as I painted blue-green on my shoes for a quick getaway. We were both catapulted upward, barely evading the grasping tendril.


    Before we¡¯d even managed to land from that, I caught a glimpse of what would¡¯ve happened to the two of us if I hadn¡¯t gotten us out of there. Another of the tar puddles had appeared next to one of the cops who was taking aim at Luz Mala, and an identical tendril stretched its way up to grab onto him. As soon as it did, the guy was suddenly completely enveloped by the tar stuff. The sound of muffled screaming filled the air, as the figure was yanked uncontrollably backward, his pistol bouncing off the ground where he had dropped it.


    Murphy and I landed a bit haphazardly then, distracted by that image. Before I could even try to think of a way to get the cop out of that situation, however, the goo stuff melted off of him. It just dissolved into nothingness. But he wasn¡¯t exactly safe, because the tar had manhandled him close to another figure. At first I thought it was someone else who had been enveloped by the same stuff. Then I belatedly realized the truth, as the feminine figure lashed out, arm extending to about twice its normal length so her fist could collide with the cop¡¯s head and knock him to the ground.


    It was the third and final new member of Oscuro, Nasty. That was what she called herself. She was basically a walking humanoid figure made of tar or possibly thick oil, who could make those puddles with extendable tentacles in any spot she focused on.


    Thugdumb, Luz Mala, and Nasty. Those three, combined with Coverfire and Silb¨®n out here, and Yahui in the back alley, would¡¯ve been bad enough. But there was also Cu¨¦lebre himself, and he was probably about as dangerous as the others all put together. If not even worse. It was taking Stick, Flurry, Linesight, and Caishen just to keep him from walking right into that shop to deal with Cup alone.


    Oh yeah, that was another thing to keep in mind. We were doing all of this to protect Amanda Sanvers, who was actually responsible not only for killing God knew how many people, but also created the Sleeptalk shit in the first place! And we couldn¡¯t even tell anyone about that until we managed to find a way to prove it without exposing the bad things we had done to get the information to begin with.


    Yeah, this whole situation was supremely fucked up.


    Before Nasty could follow up that first blow that had knocked the cop down, a geyser of water from a nearby fire hydrant erupted out of the ground and slammed into the woman. She was washed out of the way, sent careening down the street along with a couple of her puddles. Raindrop was there, hand extended that way. She was still bleeding from the arm, but seemed okay.


    Silb¨®n was still whistling as he reached the front doors, having added concussive force to it from being shot to knock two more security guys to the ground so he could stride right over them. On the way, he used another concussive whistle to break the cement that was holding Thugdumb in place, and yanked the other man up. Which was just great, since one of them was immune to any attack and could turn that attack back against people as long as he was whistling, and the other made people do dumb things if they hit him. Two guys, both basically immune to any attack, and we had to stop them from getting into that building.


    Just before they could both go through those doors, three of Alloy¡¯s marbles flew past them. They didn¡¯t attack the men, but instead formed a new barricade in front of the doors to stop them from getting in. They could be invulnerable all they wanted, it wouldn¡¯t get them through the marble wall.


    Unfortunately, they both knew there was a way to get through the wall. And that was by attacking Alloy herself. The other girl had just landed right beside Hobbes and me, with Calvin quickly scrambling up on the other side. Poise and Style were right there too.


    Coverfire had been making his way to the alley to help Yahui, with the Syndicates, That-A-Way, and Wobble trying to both slow him down and help the guys in the alley itself stop Yahui from breaking through those back doors. Raindrop and Fragile were busy with Nasty, who kept essentially teleporting around by creating more of her tar pits and transporting herself through them. Cu¨¦lebre was still keeping most of the adult Stars occupied.


    Which meant our team had to keep Alloy safe by ourselves, and stop two guys we basically couldn¡¯t hurt from getting to her. While she had to remain within general eyesight of the shop in order to keep the marble wall in their way. Oh, and to make matters worse, another vanload of Oscuro people came screeching up, allowing a bunch more Prev troops to pour out on the far side of us. We were caught with those guys coming up on the right, while Silb¨®n and Thugdumb came up on the left.


    Well, this was gonna be interesting.

 Solution 30-09

    The very first thing I did, without any hesitation, was pivot to put one hand each on Paige and Sierra¡¯s shoulders. Activating purple and orange paint I¡¯d put on there earlier, I gave them a quick push. ¡°Poise, Style, get the Prevs!¡± Yes, the two Fell-Touched were more intimidating single threats, but ignoring the guys with guns was probably a bad idea. Besides, I wasn¡¯t sure anything these two could do would hurt Silb¨®n or Thugdumb. I didn¡¯t know whether or not the latter¡¯s ¡®make people stupid¡¯ defensive power would do anything to their computer minds, but now wasn¡¯t the time to test it. Especially given the stakes of what was going on.


    It didn¡¯t matter how many of those armed guys there were, those two could handle them. Which left Hobbes, Calvin, Alloy, and me to do something about the two Fell-Touched. Oh, and Alloy was working under a handicap, since she only had six marbles total. Two of them (black and white) were being used as her armor at the moment, while another three (silver, gold, and purple) were acting as the wall to stop anyone from getting into that store. So she only had one, the bronze marble, to use as a weapon right now. She¡¯d turned it into a shield that was hovering in front of her.


    ¡°Oy!¡± Thugdumb shouted, ¡°why don¡¯t you all do yourselves a favor and back off? You¡¯re going through all this trouble to defend a psychopath killer? What sense does that make? Why would you try so hard to save her life? You don¡¯t honestly think she¡¯s telling the truth about being forced into the things she did, do you? Tell me you¡¯re not that naive. You should just turn around and walk away. We¡¯re doing everyone a favor by putting the crazy lady out of the whole city¡¯s misery, and you know it. If you stop us and she ends up getting away to kill more people--and she will--how¡¯s that gonna make you feel?¡± He and Silb¨®n had both stopped nearby, clearly waiting to see if they could talk us down rather than fight it out, which was¡­ interesting.


    ¡°Probably pretty upset,¡± I allowed. ¡°But you¡¯re not exactly a legal executioner, Mr. Dumb. We can¡¯t let you kill her just because it¡¯d make things easier for everyone. Where does the line get drawn in that case? You¡¯re a Fell, you hurt people too. Maybe not as brazenly or as horribly as she has, but still. It¡¯s not your place to walk in, pronounce judgment, and kill her. You don¡¯t get to make that call.¡± I was leaving all the reasons we really needed her alive unsaid, of course.


    I couldn¡¯t see the man¡¯s expression, since he was wearing a metallic silver facemask under the old-style fedora. But I was pretty sure he was amused by that. While the fight continued to rage around us (including Poise and Style making sure their Prev backup regretted ever stepping out of their vehicle), he regarded me and gave a very faint chuckle. ¡°Last chance. As far as I¡¯m concerned, I don¡¯t have any personal problem with any of you. Walk away now, let us handle this our way, and everyone comes out the better for it. No one else gets hurt. No one aside from the one who really deserves it.¡±


    In answer, I straighted up a bit, with Alloy right behind me and Calvin and Hobbes to either side. My voice was as firm as I could make it. ¡°You¡¯re not getting through those doors.¡±


    Both men reacted to that. In Thugdumb¡¯s case, it was a simple, seemingly regretful, ¡°What a pity.¡±


    Silb¨®n, on the other hand, had a more¡­ direct reaction. He whistled sharply, sending a blast of concussive force our way that was centered right on Alloy. Fortunately, we were ready for that. With my hands behind my back, I had already subtly sent a spray of blue and green paint at the other girl¡¯s feet. The second the blast of force came, she and Calvin were both sent rocketing upward. At the same time, Hobbes and I dove in opposite directions.


    Thugdumb came running straight at me, the big guy like a charging freight train. Meanwhile, Silb¨®n¡¯s gaze snapped upward as he made to send another whistle toward the airborne duo. But just as he did, Calvin grabbed Alloy by the arm, making a quick snapping motion toward Hobbes to activate the suit¡¯s teleportation power. Instantly, the two of them vanished, reappearing next to Hobbes, who had taken cover behind an overturned cop car to get all three of them out of the way.


    Rolling along the ground, I left my hand against the cement long enough to create a five-foot-wide pink square before using two bits of blue, one against my foot and one on my palm, smacking both against the ground to propel myself upwards so I could flip over and land on my feet.


    Unfortunately, Thugdumb didn¡¯t fall for it that time. He grunted while jumping over the pink square, landing right in front of me. His fist lashed out, going for my face. At the last second, I jerked myself backward, feeling the air from his punch brush right past my throat. His other hand snapped forward, trying to grab me, and I ducked under it before grabbing hold of the extended arm. God, I really hoped his power didn¡¯t interpret holding onto the man as hitting him. I definitely didn¡¯t need to lose my mind and go off on some ridiculous and convoluted ¡®plan.¡¯


    Not that I knew anything about ridiculous and convoluted plans, no sir.


    Using the man¡¯s arm as a sort of gymnastics bar, I hoisted myself up, using blue paint on my shoes for an added boost to get fully vertical for just a second, my feet pointed toward the sky while my hands were tightly gripping his arm. While he was still reacting, I pointed at the ground with both index fingers, without letting go of him. A spray of pink left one finger, while black left the other. It was a new combination, one I¡¯d practiced with a little bit but never used in public. I¡¯d been waiting for the right time, and this seemed to be as good as any.


    The second the black-pink spot was made on the ground, I put blue on my palms in order to send myself flying upward away from the man just as he went to grab onto me with his other hand. Then he had other problems to deal with. Namely, the black-pink circle I¡¯d put under his feet.


    Pink made objects sort of fragile, of course. Or just malleable. They were like soft foam or whatever. It softened things so you could break or reshape them. But when black was added into it, it seemed to break the objects down even more. Instead of simply being malleable, they were some midway point between solid and liquid. The affected objects acted more like quicksand than play-doh.


    Quicksand which Thugdumb was standing on. And before he knew what was happening, the man had already managed to sink up to his knees, giving a yelp of surprise in the process.


    ¡°Boy,¡± I blurted while already flipping over in the air from being launched upside down off his arm, ¡°you really took sinking to my level literally.¡± In mid-flip and mid-comment, I was already using a shot of red to yank myself over toward Silb¨®n, who had just used a (literal) sharp whistle to shear the cop car that Calvin, Hobbes, and Alloy were ducking behind in half. I had thought about trying the same black-pink quicksand trick with him, but unlike Thugdumb, making this guy stationary didn¡¯t really do much about his threat level. Instead, I called out, ¡°Did you always have five gallon lungs or is that a special allowance of your power?¡± Even as the man¡¯s head turned to send a quick whistle my way that was apparently empowered with fire considering the nearby small bush it incinerated, I was already using blue paint to bounce up and to the side with a quick. ¡°It¡¯s just too bad it didn¡¯t come with the ability to carry a tune. Cuz, you know, the dull whistling gets a little old after awhile. It¡¯s like you¡¯re a TV that¡¯s about to die or something.¡±


    By that point, he had almost hit me several more times with his burning whistle, turning it my way repeatedly. But I kept moving, bounding up and over a different car before using a red-blue circle to slide under his next attempt. That carried me in a full circle all the way around the man before I pivoted, making a show of breathing hard, as though I couldn¡¯t go on like that. Panting, I held one hand up, palm out. ¡°Wait! Wait, wait, wait, maybe we can negotiate!¡± Plucking a piece of paper out of my pocket with the other hand, I held it up. ¡°You want Cup, we just want what¡¯s on here in exchange.¡± While the whistling man stared at me, I crumpled up the paper and gave it a toss that way.


    Silb¨®n hesitated slightly, then leaned down to unfold the paper. His eyes took in what was written on it, which was just one word, written in connected letters of alternating purple and black. It simply said ¡®Sucker.¡¯


    His whistling faltered then, seeing that single word. And that, of course, was when I activated that purple-black paint, muting the area around the man so he couldn¡¯t whistle again.


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    Before he could even start to recover from that, I launched myself at him, fist colliding with the side of his face through that gray cloth mask. I¡¯d used just enough orange and purple to allow myself to make the guy reel as I hit him. I also saw his mouth move in what probably would have been a yelp of pain if he wasn¡¯t muted, and I was pretty sure he¡¯d bit his tongue.


    ¡°Dude! I cannot believe you fell for that Bugs Bunny shit. That¡¯s amazing. You¡¯ve gotta be Elmer Fudd¡¯s long lost nephew. Can--¡± I sent two quick shots of red past the guy, then two at the ground right between us. ¡°--I get--¡± He was even more confused, but only for a second. That was when one of the halves of the car he¡¯d sliced with his whistle hit him in the back. Yeah, it wasn¡¯t going very fast, but I¡¯d managed to hit the thing with red paint and pulled it this way with the spots on the ground. The impact was enough to knock him forward and down onto his hands and knees. Immediately, I hit both hands and the road with red paint to keep him there for a few seconds. ¡°--your autograph?! I figure it¡¯ll be worth something soon when you wander off a cliff because you were chasing a roadrunner or something.¡±


    On the subject of ¡®a few seconds,¡¯ that black paint would obviously run out eventually. Before it did, I called, ¡°Hey, wanna see what I can do?¡± As he looked up from trying to jerk his hands free, I gave a loud whistle of my own while pointing that way.


    Alloy was ready. That last marble she had went zipping under the car piece that had slammed into the guy, then shot upward and went right into his exposed mouth. A second later, it transformed itself into a thick plug-shaped gag. Good luck whistling now, jackass.


    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m sick of fighting people with immunity powers. Can we mix it up a little?¡± Even as I said that, not really thinking about the words, my eyes were already snapping around to take in the situation. Poise and Style had the newly-arrived Prevs handled. I couldn''t see how Way, Wobble, and the Syndicates fighting Yahui and Coverfire was going since they were out of sight behind the building. But I did see Raindrop and Fragile down the street with Nasty between them. The tar-oil figure was trying to create more of her circle things, but Izzy kept washing them away with blasts of water. Meanwhile, Fragile was gradually encasing the woman in glass. She had to bring more and more glass in to keep her contained, since Nasty kept slamming herself into it, putting more cracks in the structure. Worse, there were several Prev troops heading that way to back her up.


    ¡°Calvin, Hobbes, give them a hand!¡± I blurted, gesturing that way before using a bit of blue-green on my feet to launch myself into the air. I wanted to help Izzy myself, naturally. But we had no idea what was going on in the alley or inside the shop itself, and if Cup died¡­ fuck.


    Practically flying over the roof of the shop, I glanced down in time to nearly take a metal trash can lid to the face. It came rocketing up at me, forcing me to jerk my head sideways at the last second. Only then, as I came down on the opposite roof, did I see the source of that makeshift frisbee attack. It was Yahui. She was still in that rhino-scorpion-bear form, and the tail of the scorpion was what she¡¯d used to fling the lid at me. She was also holding Wobble up by arm with one huge bear hand to repeatedly slam him into the brick wall, so hopefully his armor was protecting him a bit. The Syndicates were on all sides of her, avoiding getting stabbed by her tail by switching which of them was solid long enough to dart in and hit her.


    I went to dive that way, just before Wobble sent a blast of his power into her face. As she recoiled, he dropped, rolled, and hit her again with both hands. That one took visible effort, but also staggered her.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got this, help Way!¡± He shouted at me while sustaining his blast. His head jerked a bit to show a hole in the wall that had clearly been burned there by Coverfire. He¡¯d made it into the shop where Cup and the last of her escorts were. Which was just completely freaking fantastic and definitely didn''t make me start cursing so rapidly the words all blended together into one long string of syllables. From the brief doubletake one of the Syndicates gave me, he was probably considering shoving a bar of soap in my supposedly-thirteen-year-old mouth.


    Without wasting another second, I pushed myself off the edge of that roof and painted the bottom of my shoes blue and green before slamming them against the wall there. The impact rocketed me forward and down on a perfect trajectory for the holes that Wobble had pointed out. I hit the thing at full speed, ending up inside the shop before rolling along the carpet. In the process, I nearly collided with an overturned rack that had a haphazard pile of shoes scattered across it. Half the rack and the shoes themselves were melted, as though Coverfire had just walked right through it.


    And speaking of him, I heard the man before I saw him. He was cursing very loudly in Spanish from somewhere off of the far side of the shop. Cursing was good. That meant he was angry, and if he was angry, he clearly hadn''t been able to get at his target yet.


    Just as I had that thought, a blur of motion came crashing out from behind one of the intact shoe shelves and through a circular metal rack with shoelaces attached to it. Way, using her super-speed. She skidded to a stop at the sight of me, snapping a quick, ¡°Can''t get to the bitch to teleport her and the escorts out, they deployed an emergency forcefield and can¡¯t take it down. Coverfire¡¯s trying to overload it and I keep distracting him. Have to keep him away from the damn thing!¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t we let him break it and then teleport them out before he does anything else?¡± I quickly put in, even as I was hitting her with a few shots of paint.


    Way shook her head. Rather than simply tell me why we couldn¡¯t do that, however, she grabbed my shoulder and teleported back that way. That was when I saw the problem. The ¡®emergency forcefield¡¯ wasn¡¯t exactly roomy. Cup and her two escorts were pressed in very close to one another within its faintly blue glowing confines, almost in a tight embrace. If we let Coverfire break through the shield, he''d melt them before we could teleport there, grab them, and teleport again. It wouldn''t be pretty. And naturally Way couldn¡¯t just grab him and teleport away, because his power would melt her.


    As for the man himself, he was just reaching for that forcefield, still cursing. There was something in his violent diatribe about how we should all get our heads examined for fighting this hard to save someone like Cup. And honestly, he kind of had a point. If only there wasn''t a really good reason for it. I mean, I¡¯d almost certainly still try to stop them, but I wouldn¡¯t feel quite so panicked about the prospect of failing.


    Taking in the scene briefly, I hesitated for just a second. That force field around the three could fail any moment, so there wasn''t exactly a lot of time to waste. Unless I wanted to try to get the cure to save my parents, Irelyn, and all the others out of a pile of ashes. If I thought Cup was difficult to get answers out of now, wait till her body was like ten thousand degrees fahrenheit.


    I had to stop that from happening, and a possible way jumped into my head right then. ¡°Got an idea,¡± I muttered toward Way, giving her a quick whispered explanation before grabbing a nearby shoe off the rack as I started sprinting that way. Amber, meanwhile, ran a different way, around the spot where the man was.


    Coverfire saw me coming, shooting a dirty, somewhat exasperated look my way. Not only were we refusing to just let them kill someone as bad as Cup, but we wouldn''t even take the hint that we couldn¡¯t actually hurt him and just leave the man alone. No wonder he was annoyed. And, well, I was pretty sure people in Oscuro didn¡¯t like me very much anyway.


    Obviously, I couldn''t paint the man himself. It would melt before getting anywhere near him. Instead, I made that shoe I¡¯d grabbed white and green. When I was still about five or six steps away from the guy, I gave the shoe a quick underhand toss toward his face. Before it could be burned up by his shield, I activated the paint, turning it into a bright flash for just a second, which made the man recoil slightly with a curse, reflexively putting his hand up in front of his face. At the same time, I launched myself to the ceiling, flipping over in the air to land with my feet against it while sending two quick shots of red and blue paint at the floor behind the man. He stumbled backward just a single step, which put him on that slick spot.


    As expected, he instantly slipped. Because the bottom of his feet weren¡¯t covered by his superheated forcefield. Of course they weren¡¯t, or he¡¯d melt through the floor.


    Normally, that wouldn¡¯t matter too much. He flailed a bit and brought one foot up slightly off the floor in an attempt to catch himself. But that was all we needed. In that instant, Way used her superspeed, having positioned herself so she could run back that way with it active. She was a blur, zipping right up to the man. Rather than collide with him, she slid on her knees, using both hands to grab just the bottom of the man¡¯s raised foot as he tried to catch himself. I was already activating all the orange paint I¡¯d put on her, just in case. Before Coverfire could recover, she caught the bottom of his foot, the only part of him that wasn¡¯t covered with a burning forcefield, before giving a hard shove upward and back.


    It worked. Coverfire tipped over backwards, flailing and shouting. Then he hit the floor with his shield active, and instantly melted through it. A hole appeared in the floor, as he fell through it. A second later, there was a loud crash as he landed in what I was guessing was some sort of basement below. Apparently he¡¯d managed to turn his shield off by then. Which was another thing Way was ready for. She vanished from sight, having teleported down to grab him and get him out of here while his power wasn¡¯t active. I just hoped she¡¯d manage to get her hands off him before he brought it back up.


    In the meantime, I pivoted toward Cup, still held in that shield. ¡°You know what?


    ¡°You¡¯re a real fucking pain in the ass.¡±

 Solution 30-10

    Shortly after we had managed to send Coverfire out of the building, reinforcements showed up in the form of several new SWAT vans and the Conservators. It was enough to make Cu¨¦lebre decide to pull back, though he made his displeasure with that well known. They all did, actually. None of them could understand why we would be defending someone like Cup so thoroughly. Which, obviously, they had a point. But it wasn''t as though we could actually explain the situation. Well, my group couldn''t. The others were saving her simply because it was the right thing to do. Even if that whole concept was getting harder and harder to define.


    And speaking of the right thing to do, I was so very tempted to grab Cup ourselves and take off with her. I honestly thought that if she had been by herself once that forcefield came down rather than escorted by two officers, I might have tried to make her disappear so we could have a little discussion. It sure could have solved a lot of problems if we just took her and made sure she gave up the¡­ the¡­ boy did I sound like the Ministry or what? Taking the law into our own hands, thinking about abducting a prisoner out of official custody so we could make her tell us how to cure those people, it all sounded suspiciously like the sort of justification my parents might have had.


    So yeah, that was an awkward feeling. Yet I still couldn¡¯t entirely put the thought of how much easier taking her with us might make some things (even as it drastically complicated other things) out of my head. But no, she was never out of their sight. For the moment, I couldn''t grab her, and I certainly couldn''t tell them what was going on. I couldn''t tell them about her being behind the biological attack that had essentially crippled the city. Not until we had independent proof of that.


    Instead, we all had to just stand there and watch while they took her back into one of the new van. And they weren''t taking any chances with it, bringing even more people to escort her to wherever the new holding area would be like she was the president of the United States or something.


    Well, not quite like she was the president. I was pretty sure they didn''t treat him quite the way they did her. There were certainly less shackles involved at the very least. She had those at her ankles and wrists, and also some sort of special gag over her mouth. It was metal with a little grill in front and had heavy duty leather straps keeping it attached to the back of her head. So she could breathe through it, but apparently she couldn''t talk at all. So there was no way for her to use at least that part of her power.


    Standing there with the rest of my team, those who were here anyway, we watched her get taken away once more while the other authorities were in dealing with rounding up the few Prev troops who had been left behind. All of the Touched had escaped, of course. Because we couldn''t even get a win on that.


    Okay, that wasn''t really fair. We had won in the sense that we¡¯d kept Cup alive, so once we had what we needed to prove she was behind Sleeptalk, they''d be able to force her to make the cure. And no, I definitely wasn¡¯t so frustrated by yet another delay in actually saving my parents that I felt like screaming into a paper bag until I passed out, why do you ask?


    Paige put a hand on my back while we were standing there. ¡°We¡¯ll get her,¡± she murmured under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear. ¡°One step at a time. The important thing right now is that she¡¯s still alive to deal with later.¡±


    My head bobbed slightly. ¡°I know, I get it. The important part is keeping her alive long enough to actually do something about it. That doesn¡¯t stop me from wanting to walk over there, grab her by the ear, and drag her back to the shop. Or even better, tell someone about the¡­¡± I paused, grimacing behind my helmet. Now really wasn¡¯t the time to get into all this. And I definitely couldn¡¯t let on that anything was wrong. No matter how much I wanted to do that whole paper bag screaming thing. Or possibly bullhorn screaming.


    Instead, I managed to collect myself as Big Top, the Conservator visiting from Chicago, walked up to us. The man, standing just slightly under six feet tall, wore his usual costume of a red and black long-tailed coat, gold shirt with red bowtie, black pants, and a matching black top hat with a gold band. The top half of his face was covered by a gold cloth mask, with dark red lenses over his eyes.


    Was it bad or weird for me to think that Grandstand pulled off the ringmaster outfit costume better? Though we were pretty lucky that she wasn¡¯t with Cu¨¦lebre anymore. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how bad this whole situation would¡¯ve been if the woman who could make herself unseen by everyone or force everyone to pay attention only to her had been here to mess with us.


    Shaking off that thought and about a dozen others that tried to scramble into its place, I focused on the man as he approached. His voice was tired, but still upbeat. ¡°Hey there, ahh, Avant-Guard. We sort of met the other night, during the whole¡­ Scions thing.¡±


    He started to extend a hand to me, and I almost took it before Sierra interrupted. ¡°So is this place actually safe or what? Cuz call me crazy but I still feel a little jumpy right now. What if there¡¯s a second attack while we¡¯re all just standing around?¡±


    Big Top focused on her. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Trust me, I get the¡­ instinct. But we¡¯ve got men up on the roofs, and others watching nearby intersections. I don¡¯t think Cu¨¦lebre wants to come back around for another go at it. They took their shot and missed. Speaking of which, I just wanted to thank you all for jumping in there. I know it¡­¡± He paused, taking a breath before letting it out. ¡°It couldn¡¯t have been easy to throw yourselves into helping save someone like that, despite whatever claims she might be making. But we¡¯re glad you did. I¡¯m glad you did, for whatever that might be worth. She¡¯ll get a fair trial and then--well, I suppose we¡¯ll go from there. Everyone alright?¡±


    Boy was that ever an accidentally-loaded question. The stress of the moment very nearly made me laugh in his face, impossible as that would¡¯ve been to explain. Instead, I forced myself to shrug and tried to make my voice as normal as possible. Maybe he¡¯d excuse the strain in it as just being tired. ¡°Better than a lot of people around here. Why were they moving her anyway? And where¡¯s she going?¡±


    Hey, it was worth a shot.


    As expected, however, Big Top shook his head ruefully. ¡°Sorry, can¡¯t tell you the second part. As to the first, someone got wind that one of the gangs was planning an assault against the place she was being held before--¡±


    ¡°The jail?¡± Murphy interrupted pointedly. ¡°You mean the jail, right? Because I don¡¯t know why they would keep her anywhere except for the fucking jail.¡± She was clearly going to go on in that vein, but Roald gently put a hand on her arm to make her stop. Which she did, albeit reluctantly.


    Big Top, for his part, gave a soft sigh. He looked over his shoulder at the rest of the people helping to get things cleaned up before answering. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a delicate situation. She¡¯s cooperating, which involves telling the authorities a lot about where the Scions have loads of stashed weapons. Dangerous weapons. She¡¯s even giving away their safe houses, where we¡¯ve found some of their members holed up. So, since she¡¯s playing along and has a few of the higher ups convinced that she¡¯s telling the truth about being forced into it, she¡¯s in¡­ let¡¯s call it protective custody.¡±


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    Oh, there were a lot of things I wanted to call that. But I bit back the instinctive response and simply replied, ¡°So they found out there was a threat to her, started to move her and they attacked then. Sounds like Cu¨¦lebre wanted you to find out.¡±


    Big Top gave a soft cough. ¡°Yes, we¡¯re getting that impression. But she''s going somewhere even safer now. She''ll be out of everyone''s reach, so don''t worry about it.¡±


    Worry about it? Hell no, why would we worry about the idea that the one person who could actually fix Sleeptalk was being taken away to some secret location that was supposedly safe from anyone trying to find her? I couldn''t think of any possible reason that could backfire in a truly catastrophic way. It was fine, all fine, definitely fine. Perfect even.


    Oh, right, I was probably supposed to say something there. I was so lost in my long, silent scream while trying my best not to visibly or audibly freak out that I just sort of stayed silent for an awkward time. Fortunately, Paige jumped in before things got too weird. ¡°Well, I sure hope they take care of her. It sounds like she''s pretty instrumental to helping a lot of people. As long as they can keep her under control and actually get useful information. And as long as she doesn¡¯t start playing them. You know, leading them to a few good places so they let their guard down, then steering them right into a trap.¡± Her voice was pointed by the end.


    ¡°They¡¯re being careful, believe me,¡± Big Top assured us. ¡°Speaking of which, sounds like they need us back on the job.¡± He pointed to his ear, apparently indicating some sort of communicator we couldn¡¯t see. ¡°Seriously, you guys already helped out more than we could¡¯ve expected. Silversmith and the rest of his people, they¡¯re lucky to have a group like yours around to help pick up the slack. But you should get some rest now. You all seem pretty exhausted.¡± With that, the man gave us a lingering look before turning to start walking away, calling over his shoulder, ¡°Just don¡¯t push yourselves too hard!¡±


    After waiting until the man had left and we were once again alone (well, as alone as we could be when the whole street was full of crime scene technicians and whatnot), I let out a little sigh. ¡°I guess he''s right, we should get out of here.¡± I couldn''t help but shift my gaze a little to take in the area where the Minority were being debriefed. Boy, did I ever want to go check on Izzy myself. But we had to be more careful about that sort of thing. We couldn''t do anything that might let people connect the two of us, not even the authorities. Hell, especially not the authorities.


    So, instead of heading over there, I simply turned with the rest of my team as we left. None of us said much as Alloy created a platform out of a couple of her marbles to lift us up to one of the roofs. As Big Top had said, there was a guy up there. He nodded politely, but kept his attention focused on the nearby streets. We just kept going over to the next roof, then the one after that.


    We were several blocks away before Paige stopped us and gave Sierra a look before asking, ¡°He didn''t touch any of you, did he? I don''t think he did, but I want to be sure. We need to be sure.¡±


    Roald was the first to respond, with a confused, ¡°Who, Big Top?¡±


    Sierra nodded. ¡°That dude can spy on people by touching them and putting one of his other selves in you. You know how his power is all about how he has the minds and abilities of a bunch of different versions of himself who were in different positions at the circus? The lion tamer can control animals, the strong man is super strong, that sort of thing. Well not only can he pass those aspects on to someone else and give them those abilities temporarily, but they can also secretly sit in the person without them knowing and spy on everything they see and hear.¡±


    Well, no wonder she had interrupted when Big Top had started to shake my hand.


    Shaking his head, Roald asked, ¡°Do you really think he''d do something like that and start spying on us? He''s one of the good guys.¡± He paused briefly before wilting a little. ¡°Okay, maybe that''s not the best defense. I just really like Big Top. But why would he want to spy on us? As far as they know, we''re just a few teenagers who¡¯ve, you know, been helping out.¡±


    Paige cleared her throat and offered a shrug. ¡°And maybe they still think that. They probably do. But we''re also a mystery in some ways. We''re not under their control, and there''s a lot they don''t know. I can''t say he would violate trust like that, but I can''t say he wouldn''t either. We don''t know enough about him, and it''s not worth the risk. Not considering everything we''ve got going on.¡±


    She was right, the last thing we needed was for some almost entirely unknown new member of the Conservators to find out what we were doing. It would be way too hard to explain, if he would even give us the chance to try. We were just going to have to be careful about not letting him touch us, just in case.


    And speaking of reasons to be paranoid, once we were square on that front, I called the shop to make sure everything was okay back there. Honestly, part of me was expected to hear that Pittman had managed to escape while we were gone. My stomach started to clench a little as it rang a few times. Before I could get too upset, Paige spoke up. ¡°They''re coming, the phone fell behind the table.¡± When I looked at her, she tapped her head. "We¡¯re linked in to the security feed in the workshop. You didn''t actually think I''d leave that bastard without having a way of watching him, did you?¡±


    Sure enough, a second later, Fred answered, sounding a little out of breath. ¡°Hey, sorry, it''s all good. We''re all good. Phone fell behind the table and I had to dig it out from under one of those stuffed animals with th--never mind. He¡¯s still here, we''re all here. We''re okay. How''s it going there?¡±


    Letting out a relieved sigh and nodding toward Paige in thanks, I replied, ¡°Well, Cup¡¯s alive and still in police custody. Call that what you will. Not sure if it''s good or bad. How about we settle on, it could be a lot worse?¡±


    I could hear the man''s relieved sigh. ¡°Fine, we can work with ¡®could be worse.¡¯ Couldn''t get any answers out of her while you were there, huh?¡±


    ¡°Let''s just say an opportunity didn''t present itself,¡± I replied lightly. ¡°We''re going to have to do this the long way. Just like we planned. We find those labs he told us about and dig up some proof about her being involved. If she wants to keep this arrangement she''s got, she''ll have to give them the cure.¡±


    Obviously, there were some issues with that plan. Including an awful lot of question marks about how exactly it would work and how we would actually tell the authorities. But it was the best we had.


    After exchanging a few more words with Fred and making sure everything was okay back there, I disconnected and turned it back to the others. ¡°Well, we could do what Big Top said and get some rest--¡±


    ¡°Fuck that,¡± Peyton interrupted flatly. ¡°If we''re gonna prove Cup was behind all that, we need to get started. Let''s go to the first address and see what we can find. Who knows, maybe we''ll get lucky right off the bat.¡±


    Yeah, none of us actually thought that was likely, but it was nice to daydream about it for a second. Still, she had a point. If we were going to deal with the Cup situation, we needed to get to work.


    So, Paige told us where we were headed first. Obviously, she had all the addresses locked in and knew where the nearest one from here was. It was only then that I realized that she had been looking that way the whole time she was looking out over the roof. She knew what we were going to do. I just hoped she wasn''t crazy enough to have thought she could go over there herself if we hadn''t planned on doing it together. Hell, speaking of which¡­


    ¡°You guys should stay away from the lab,¡± I pointed out once we were standing on the roof across the street from the place in question. ¡°Let us go in while you wait for us to give the all clear. Just like when we were going after the teleport machine. They could have all sorts of defenses set up to mess with you.¡±


    It was pretty obvious neither of them liked that idea. Not even a little bit. They both wanted to argue, but in the end, each sighed and agreed. None of us wanted to risk the idea of Pittman having the ability to either shut them down, or worse, take them over. We couldn¡¯t let that happen.


    So, they stayed there, promising to shut down the comms so they wouldn¡¯t listen in and accidentally overhear a command phrase until we sent them an all-clear signal. Meanwhile, Murphy, Roald, Peyton, and I looked to one another before nodding. It was time to go in there.


    And hope we found something that could prove Amanda Sanvers was just as much of an evil bitch as everyone had thought she was.

 Solution 30-11

    The first of the secret labs that Pittman had sent us to was located in an old hobby game shop, one that had been closed for a long time. Since before Pittman had even gone to prison, really. The sign above the door was still there, but faded to the point that it was almost illegible. There were bars across the windows and doors, along with several signs making it clear that the place was permanently shut down. They were the sort of signs an angry landlord put up to illustrate their passive aggressive annoyance with not being paid properly. Which, according to the explanatory notes we had forced Pittman to write, was intentional. Fewer people wanted to rent from an irritable landlord who might just take that irritation out on you. Especially when there were other, better locations nearby.


    Obviously, we didn''t bother going in the front. That was pretty secure with all the bars and such, and also fairly public. This wasn''t exactly a busy part of town, but still. There was no point in exposing ourselves, or what we were doing, too much. Instead, we made our way to the roof of the building next door. This was all in one long stripmall, located near a discount grocery store. This building, like the one that was our target, was empty, though in its case, the place had only closed down within the past couple months. Either way, the biggest benefit it had for us was the lack of pressure sensors.


    Yeah, that was another thing our informant had told us about. The roof of the shop we were trying to get into had sensors all over, just waiting for some idiot to step on it. Obviously, they couldn''t risk accidentally drawing attention to the building by having it immediately start attacking anyone who landed on that roof. There was too great of a chance that some Touched could just stop there on the way to some other location. God knew I used random roofs often enough. If the defenses immediately turned hostile the second someone stepped there, they probably would¡¯ve been found out.


    No, instead the sensors simply alerted the security to be ready. And sent an alert to every other lab, putting them on alert as well. If it detected anything else, any attempted entry or whatever, it would move to the next steps. One of which involved wiping out everything in all the shops to make sure their data couldn¡¯t be taken. Obviously, that was something we really wanted to avoid. So we were going to have to take this slowly, step by step. We had made Pittman write out exactly how to get past the security in these places not just once, but three times. The first time in just a normal straightforward way, the second time backwards (writing the last step first and working back to the beginning), and the last time we listed the things we were going to do to get through the security, but intentionally included mistakes with each step and made him write out the corrections. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but at least that was about as close to it as we could get, given the time constraints we were working under.


    Well, okay, we probably could have taken longer. But with the quarantine, the fact that we didn¡¯t know for sure how long it would take before Amanda was out of reach, and stuff like that, we really needed to pick up the pace. If we were going to fix this before things ended up getting much worse, we couldn¡¯t sit around forever. Especially when we were already dealing with distractions like Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s people trying to kill the only woman who could fix this Sleeptalk shit.


    And yeah, okay, maybe a big part of it was that I was desperate to help my parents. After all, I had thought that simply grabbing Pittman himself would do that. The fact that we had to go through all this other stuff instead was¡­ annoying. It made me want to go find a corner and start screaming into a paper bag until I was hoarse. But that wouldn¡¯t be helpful. It wouldn¡¯t solve anything. So I just had to keep trying. Just because taking Pittman had turned out to be another step instead of the last step didn¡¯t mean I had the luxury of falling apart. And hey, at least I¡¯d been able to hit people, thanks to Cu¨¦lebre and his troops deciding to attack right then.


    Sure, the fact that I¡¯d done so in order to save Amanda Fucking Sanvers kind of tainted the whole thing. But still, it was something.


    And now we just had to do this step. Maybe we¡¯d get lucky and this first lab we checked would have the proof we were looking for. Even if the very thought of that, at this point, made me want to start laughing so hard my friends might think I¡¯d lost my mind.


    Maybe I had. Maybe I was already losing it, and this was just pushing me over the edge.


    But I pushed those thoughts aside and focused. We could do this. We could still pull it off. First things first, those sensors. According to Pittman, they could be disabled by playing specific musical bits from certain songs in order. Which might¡¯ve been a problem given none of us were musically inclined. But apparently recordings would work. We just had to play it near enough to the other building for the sensors to pick them up. First, about five seconds from Michael Jackson¡¯s ¡®Don¡¯t Stop Til You Get Enough,¡¯ then ten seconds from Thin Izzy¡¯s ¡®The Boys Are Back In Town,¡¯ and finally five seconds from Alice Cooper¡¯s ¡®School¡¯s Out.¡¯ Not just any portions of those songs either, it had to be specific parts played for those specific lengths of time one right after the other. That way it was vanishingly unlikely that anyone would accidentally do that.


    Once those twenty seconds of songs were played, the sensors would shut down. The signal that they had done so was supposed to be five seconds of AC/DC¡¯s ¡®Highway to Hell¡¯ played through hidden speakers on the roof.


    We listened intently after Roald played the recorded bits on the phone he¡¯d brought along. Sure enough, we could hear that little bit coming from an air conditioning vent nearby. Which was supposed to mean we were safe to step on the roof now. Still, we waited a second. I looked to the others while we all seemed to hesitate. Then I shrugged and used a bit of blue paint to jump across the gap. Landing easily on that roof, I braced myself for some sort of alarm, or attack, or¡­ anything. But nothing happened. At least, as far as I could tell. For all I knew, the system was sending an alert to the rest of the labs to be ready to wipe all evidence the second I made another move.


    No. No, we had to believe we¡¯d gotten the right answers out of Pittman. We went over it and over it, every way any of us could come up with to make sure we weren¡¯t missing anything. We even took care to make sure the system wouldn¡¯t freak out about there being more than one or two of us, just in case.


    This was how we were supposed to get in the building. We were shutting down the defenses, and we were going to find what we needed. If not here, then in one of the others.


    Of course, it occurred to us that Amanda almost certainly had set up her own protections. Which added another layer of problems. But we just had to take that as it came. Even if the idea of walking into a Tech-Touched¡¯s lab seemed completely suicidal. Especially when that Tech-Touched was someone like Amanda Sanvers. Between her homicidal tendencies and just how much she would want to keep this stuff away from anyone¡¯s sight, this¡­ could end up being pretty bad. Besides, Pittman had apparently made it clear to her that he wanted to be able to get in the lab himself (or send some of his people) when the time came, so maybe she hadn¡¯t gone too nuts on changing things in the labs they were supposed to be sharing.


    We were just going to have to be careful.


    Alloy, Calvin, and Hobbes jumped across to join me a moment later, and as soon as I was as sure as I could be that they weren''t about to set anything off, I walked in a slow circle around the roof. Sure enough, my special extra sense managed to pick up not only the sensors themselves built into the roof, but six speakers in hidden locations that would almost certainly have given off signals to take control of Paige and Sierra. I could almost hear some sort of practically silent tone as it was, right at the edge of what my ears could pick up. Something told me it wouldn¡¯t have gone well for those two.


    But, one by one, I carefully disabled those speakers. They weren''t very big, basically just the size of quarters set in hidden spots. All I had to do was give them a little bit of pink paint and break them out one by one. After making sure they weren''t connected to the sensors themselves, of course. Then I did one more pass just to make sure I hadn''t missed any.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    With that done, we moved to the next step. Which did not involve going anywhere near the very obvious trapdoor in the roof. The trap part of that term was very apt, according to the notes we¡¯d gotten. There was no way to go through that entrance without making the lab burn itself down. Instead, we moved to the opposite corner. Usually I would have just pink-painted an entrance. But those sensors were still there, even if they were allowing us to stand on them. Making a hole through the roof wouldn¡¯t exactly make the sensors very happy. And unhappy sensors tended to start fires in places we really didn¡¯t want them to be.


    The hidden hatch we were looking for was two feet from the south-west corner. It just looked like a normal part of the roof. But I could feel the ladder underneath it. A ladder leading down into the building below. Even then, we couldn¡¯t just use pink paint to break through that spot. Anxious as I was to get this over with, now was not the right time to start getting impatient and bungling things.


    Instead, I nodded to Murphy. She produced her own phone and held it close to that part of the roof, pressing play on a recording. This one, instead of being a series of bits from different songs, was a recording of Martin Luther King giving the first couple lines of his Dream speech. Which seemed really wrong to include in something like this, to be honest. But there we were. It was another thing that was unlikely for someone to accidentally stumble across, especially since they¡¯d have to do it after playing those specific parts of those specific songs first.


    Once that part of the speech was over, there was a soft beat before five small buttons emerged from the roof. Obviously, the immediate thought would be that you had to press them in the right order or something. But no, that was a trap as well. Instead, Peyton reached out and very carefully hooked her fingers around the first button in line. With a grunt, she pulled it up an inch or two, until it clicked audibly into place. She did the same thing with the middle button, and then the one on the end. Instead of pushing any of them, she simply pulled out every other one.


    We waited another moment after that, but it didn''t take long before those buttons simply descended back into the roof, followed by three different ones sliding into place. These were slightly larger. And again, there was a trick to them. Not the same one as before. Instead, I reached out to the middle one and pressed it. I let it come back up, then pressed it again, repeating that a total of ten times in rapid succession.


    That was enough. On the tenth press of that same button, after completely ignoring the other two, there was another confirmation beep. And finally the hidden door there slid open to reveal the ladder. Step one down, we had access.


    Turning to look over at the roof in the distance where Paige and Sierra were anxiously waiting, I waved to let them know everything was working so far. Then, one by one, the four of us began to descend the ladder. Something told me those two over there weren¡¯t exactly going to calm down anytime soon as they watched us descend out of sight.


    Still, we kept going. On the way down what turned out to be a fairly narrow shaft, I destroyed no less than five more hidden speakers. Yeah, this definitely wouldn''t have gone well for any Biolem who tried to enter without permission. It was almost like Pittman had told Amanda to be very careful on that point.


    Finally, we descended into what looked like an empty supply closet through a hidden hatch, then stepped out into the shop proper. It just looked like a normal hobby shop full of mostly empty shelves, with a cash register and stool up front behind a counter, and scattered garbage. Anyone peering in from the outside wouldn¡¯t have noticed anything amiss.


    There were several more speakers and other security measures in there, including a couple cameras. I took care of them as soon as I did my walk through. Then we moved to the back room. There was another hidden trapdoor with a similar setup to the one on the roof. This one required audio from John F Kennedy talking about going to the moon. And then a different set of buttons appeared that had to be carefully manipulated. Six buttons, half of which had to be pried out and the other half had to be pushed.


    That opened the hidden hatch there, and we finally descended into the actual lab. And boy what a lab it was. The whole place was circular, about a hundred and fifty feet in diameter, with tile floor, metal walls and ceiling, and a whole bunch of equipment all over the place. This seemed to be the norm for Tech-Touched, judging from everything I¡¯d seen so far. There were dozens of tables all around, with tools and random bits of equipment all over them, along with various refrigerators, bunsen burners, vials of who knew what that had been there for who knew how long, random books and journals, computers, and more.


    We didn¡¯t exactly stand around gawking for long. Instead, I did my thing, walking through, disabling every camera and speaker I could find. Meanwhile, the other three followed Pittman¡¯s instructions by going to a tall grandfather clock in the corner, opening it up, and moving the hands. First they set it to noon, then nine o¡¯clock, then three, and finally to seven. Once they did all that, the clock gave three loud gongs that made all of us flinch. But then it went completely silent. A good sign, supposedly.


    We were in. The defenses were shut down, and we had made it without triggering anything, as far as we knew. Still, while the others started to look around, I took another trip all the way around the lab, and back up through the entire shop. I checked everywhere I could find for any more sensors or anything else. I disabled all the speakers and hidden cameras one by one. Then I did the same thing yet again, carefully walking through the whole place to check every inch of it. I wasn''t going to take any chances. Not with something like this.


    Only once I was as completely positive as I could be that everything was safe did I call Paige to let her know they could come over. They didn¡¯t waste any time doing so, arriving in the shop within seconds before I led them back down the second ladder to the lab itself. The others had been looking around, but hadn¡¯t found anything useful yet. Mostly because they really didn¡¯t want to touch anything until these two were here to check it out first.


    Now that Paige and Sierra were here, they immediately checked out the computers, making sure there were no more hidden tricks before Paige plugged into them. It took a few minutes to break through the security, but soon she was scrolling through every available file. Sierra, meanwhile, started checking out a table with some tools left out on it that the others pointed her to. Leaving them to that, I opened one of the refrigerators before immediately closing it with an audible gag. Gross. I wasn''t sure what was in there, but it had expired a very long time ago. I was just glad that the fridge was apparently sealed well enough to keep the smell in.


    Abruptly, Paige called us all over. We went there, crowding around as she brought up something on the computer screen. It was a video of this very lab, with Amanda herself standing there facing the camera. There were two tables set up behind her, with what looked like ordinary people strapped down to them. They had gas masks on, but were still struggling a bit.


    ¡°Well hey there, boss!¡± Amanda chirped. ¡°You said you wanted to see how it was going, so pay attention.¡± She turned to a nearby tank and turned the knob on it. There was a hissing sound, and both of the people who were strapped down jerked a bit as the gas inside was apparently pumped right into them. They spasmed, then fell down. A few seconds passed, before Amanda turned off the gas and carefully removed the masks. ¡°And a one¡­ and a two¡­ and a three.¡±


    Right on cue, the men began to jerk against their straps. One began mumbling aloud, something about being part of the circus. The other took a few seconds longer before beginning to have what sounded like a one-sided conversation with Abraham Lincoln. They were both clearly unconscious, and clearly affected by--


    ¡°Sleeptalk. That¡¯s Sleeptalk,¡± Murphy blurted. ¡°We¡¯ve got it, we¡¯ve got the evidence that--¡±


    She stopped then, as the Amanda on-screen started talking once more. Or rather, groaning. She murmured in what sounded an awful lot like pleasure, half-doubling over as she put both hands out to catch herself against the counter. ¡°Oooh, that¡¯s good. Oh, wow. That¡¯s some great stuff. So many thoughts.¡± Straightening up, she gave the camera a sly wink. ¡°Sure, it¡¯s not gonna be quite as¡­ direct as doing it the normal way, especially once I set it up to affect a lot more people. But in this case, I think quantity over quality counts. I can only use my power on one person at a time, but with this stuff¡­. ooooh. With this stuff, I just get a slow trickle of ideas constantly. Spread that over as many people as we can infect and¡­¡± She laughed, an almost infectious giggle. ¡°See, I told you I could work it out. And pretty soon with a little help from all our little guinea pigs, I¡¯ll be able to build absolutely fucking anything.¡±


    That was when I realized what was going on. Sleeptalk wasn¡¯t just putting people into a coma. It was built off Amanda¡¯s own power, the one she used by asking people ridiculous questions. And somehow¡­ some-fucking-how it was linked to her. All the people who were affected by it, all those infected victims, were giving her constant Touched-Tech ideas, fleshing out blueprints, giving her a boost in knowing how to build or improve things. All this time, from the moment the attack first happened, she had secretly been absorbing more and more ideas, getting a boost to her abilities far beyond what she normally got just by using her power on one person at a time..


    So¡­ if that was true, if that was what was really going on¡­ just how powerful of a Tech-Touched was she by now?

 Solution 30-12

    Well, on the plus side, we had the proof we needed. There was no way anyone could look at these videos and not understand what was happening. Which, as it turned out, was something even worse than we had expected. Seriously, Amanda Sanvers had already been a huge problem. Even in police custody, I didn¡¯t believe she was helpless or completely contained. I never thought it would actually be that easy, even from the moment she surrendered.


    But now? Now it turned out she wasn¡¯t operating only on her own ability. Well, she was, but a supercharged version of it. She had been getting a steady stream of Tech-Touched ideas and improvements from everyone who had been affected by this shit the whole time! How many ridiculous, impossible things could she build now, after all that?


    God, I didn¡¯t even want to think about it. But my brain insisted on screeching about all the horrible possibilities the whole time Paige and Sierra were making several copies of what we had found, which was taking a bit longer than it should have since Amanda apparently had built-in protections against that sort of thing and they were tiptoeing around them. We weren¡¯t going to take any chances that this stuff could somehow disappear. That really would be just our luck, to know what was really going on and have no way to actually prove it because all the videos deleted themselves.


    Meanwhile, as they were working on that, I felt paralyzed. Who should I call first? Who was I supposed to tell about this? The Ministry, Ten Towers, the cops, the jail, who would listen to me the most, and who could actually accomplish anything with the information? The prison system wouldn¡¯t listen to me, obviously, despite my wild thoughts that I could call them up and tell them to get fifty men in there to point guns at-- oh shit, she wasn¡¯t even in the prison right now! How the hell did that slip my mind? Amanda was--fuck she was wherever they had been taking her. Not prison, some other ¡®safe location.¡¯ But safe for who? Was she still in custody at this point?


    I had my phone out, in my hand, staring at it as I literally staggered backward against the desk. Peyton, Roald, and Murphy were having an intense conversation off to one side, talking about letting Rubi know so she could pass it on to Caishen. I had to calm down, had to breathe and make myself focus. One thing at a time, Cassidy. What was the first thing I needed to do right now, besides tell my stomach to stop rolling so hard?


    ¡°Get hold of Rubi,¡± I quickly agreed with those three while they were debating how much good it would do. ¡°Tell her to get Caishen to send all the reinforcements they can to make sure Amanda¡¯s secure, and tell them she¡¯s a lot more dangerous than they might think. I know they¡¯re already keeping any tools and equipment away from her, but at this point I feel like she could MacGyver a nuclear bomb out of a VCR and scotch tape. Don¡¯t let her near anything, strip the room bare if they need to. And keep eyes on her, for God¡¯s sake. For all we know she¡¯s already broken out of custody. Maybe that was what getting transferred out of the jail was for in the first place.¡±


    Realizing I was babbling, I snapped my mouth shut and focused on my phone once more before coming to a decision. The Ministry. We had our issues, obviously, but this was about more than that. They had connections I didn¡¯t, ways of getting this message to everyone who needed to hear it. Hell, they probably had at least one of their own people watching Amanda as we spoke. Especially after that last message I sent them. They knew she was responsible for Sleeptalk, so I really doubted they¡¯d just left her without direct Ministry supervision. They could find out what she was up to and stop it.


    That time, after listening to the phone ring three times, I didn¡¯t get the receptionist or whatever they called the person screening calls. It went straight through to Ministers Gray. I heard the bear answer, his deep baritone filling my ear. ¡°You have the proof?¡±


    ¡°As promised,¡± I immediately confirmed. ¡°And it¡¯s worse than we thought. Yeah, I know how that sounds, but trust me.¡± With that, I told them what we¡¯d found, making sure to emphasize just how much Amanda¡¯s power had been supercharged by this shit.


    ¡°So no one has any idea what she¡¯s capable of now,¡± I managed by the end of that. ¡°If she was a strong Tech-Touched before, she¡¯s had all those minds feeding her power this whole time, since the moment that Sleeptalk stuff was first triggered. She could--¡±


    ¡°She could build anything, potentially,¡± Fisher interrupted, sounding like he was actually taking this as seriously as I wanted him to. ¡°Thank you for the trust, Paintball. We shall handle it from here.¡± I started to say something, but he cut in. ¡°I understand your reservations. Both of us do. But we have this in paw. I¡¯m watching a live feed of Ms. Sanvers right now. She¡¯s being kept in a small room with no tools. Her only entertainment at the moment is paperback books, and she is being fed using paper plates and cups, food she can eat with her hands, and all of that is removed when she¡¯s done. A special system within the room mutes all sound so she cannot use her power to distract anyone. Even if she does escape that room, she has been implanted with a device which will administer a potent drug directly into her bloodstream capable of rendering her unconscious the moment she leaves it. I understand that even all of this is not one hundred percent foolproof, but it is not nothing. She is being contained, and we will do what we need to do in order to ensure she remains that way, no matter how many super-tech ideas she has swimming around in her brain. She will be given no opportunity to utilize them. We are taking your warning as seriously as we possibly can.¡±


    Breathing out, I glanced toward the others before nodding. ¡°Okay, I get it. You can handle this whole thing better than we can by ourselves. But we¡¯re still sending the message to others. Ten Towers, the Minority, everyone we have contacts for.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Fisher¡¯s voice came back. ¡°Understandable. It would be wise to avoid panic right now, but ensuring the right people understand the gravity of the potential problem is important. Spread the word to those you trust. But first, you did say you had proof of this. Clearly, we believe you. You¡¯ve more than earned that level of trust. But having a copy of that proof in hand would be¡­ helpful.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll send you a copy,¡± I agreed. ¡°Give me an email address I can get a file to and you can have all your tech experts go over it to make sure it¡¯s legit. We¡¯re doing the same for others.¡± While saying that, I was looking pointedly toward Paige, who gave me a short nod of confirmation. They had safely made the copies we needed.


    Another pause followed, before Fisher gave me a temporary email I could use to send the file (avantguardproof at flyawaym dot com). I had no doubt that the email wouldn¡¯t lead anywhere important or useful if we tried to do anything with it beyond sending that file. They would probably nuke absolutely every part of it off the internet the second they took the file off it. We might¡¯ve been working together for this, but that didn¡¯t mean they were going to open themselves up for us to dig through all their secrets. Or vice versa, to be honest.


    Once Paige was working on sending the file, Fisher spoke again. ¡°Now, proof is one thing, but I don¡¯t suppose there might be something even more important in this place you¡¯ve been searching? Wherever that may be.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know you tried to trace the call,¡± I retorted flatly, ¡°and you¡¯re probably a little annoyed that we¡¯re not letting you. But don¡¯t worry, as soon as we¡¯re out of here, you¡¯ll get the address and everything else we can tell you about getting in, just in case we missed something. And as far as that more important thing, I guess you mean a cure.¡±


    ¡°That would be quite useful, yes,¡± the TONI bear confirmed while giving no actual reaction to my bit about how they had tried to trace the call. ¡°Skipping over the middle man--or woman-- entirely by having a readily-made cure sounds far better than being forced to watch Ms. Sanvers¡¯ every move while she makes the cure now. Watching a hostile Tech-Touched work with live materials when you have no idea what they¡¯re actually doing is difficult enough in the best of circumstances. If she is as¡­ super-charged as you say, that could be exponentially more difficult.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°Listen, go over the proof and make damn sure Amanda stays in custody. We¡¯ll search this place a bit more, and send you everything we can find. As soon as we¡¯re done, you¡¯ll get the address so you can go over it yourselves. But trust me, if we find even the slightest whiff of an actual cure, either the actual thing or any information about it, we¡¯ll let you know.¡±


    They agreed, and I disconnected before exhaling. ¡°Okay, what about Rubi?¡±


    ¡°We sent her a message,¡± Roald informed me. ¡°But she hasn¡¯t answered yet.¡± He sounded anxious, for obvious reasons. ¡°So we sent her another one to make sure she knows it¡¯s important as soon as she sees it.¡±


    ¡°And now the Conservators have the information,¡± Paige put in. ¡°As do the Seraphs. We sent it through your¡­ bird papa.¡± I could hear the very faint smile in her voice despite the seriousness of the situation. ¡°He¡¯s spreading the word and making sure they take it seriously.¡±


    My head bobbed a little. ¡°Right, okay, good. Between all of them, they should be able to keep Amanda--okay they¡¯ll do a better job than we could at making sure she stays trapped and doesn¡¯t get access to any tools. Let¡¯s just hope it¡¯s actually enough.¡± I felt a pang go through me at the thought of even voicing that slight doubt, but pushed on. ¡°But for now, I uhh, I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any helpfully-labeled cures lying around?¡±


    With a loud, emphatic curse as she turned away from the wall she had been staring at, Sierra announced, ¡°Of course not, that¡¯d be too damn easy. If there¡¯s a cure to this stuff, it¡¯s locked up inside her head. It¡¯s like she knew someone would eventually see all this and wanted to make sure they had to go through her to get the important shit.¡±


    Murphy, who was bouncing up and down anxiously, piped up. ¡°So what now? Do we really just sit back and wait to see if those people can keep her under control and get the cure out of her? What¡¯re we supposed to do until then, twiddle our thumbs?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve done enough,¡± I found myself saying, even though it hurt to say. ¡°We¡¯re giving them what they need. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what else we can do. We can¡¯t convince them to let us take Amanda and--well¡­ hey, what if we send them Trevithick¡¯s machine and tell them to plug her into it? We don¡¯t have to tell them we already used it to go over Pittman, we can just¡­ tell them to use it to make the cure. Or send it to the Ministry¡­ or¡­ maybe that¡¯s a bad idea in general. I don¡¯t know how the kid¡¯ll feel about handing that sort of thing over to other people for them to use.¡± We were going to have to talk to Wren about that and see if there was a way to do it safely. Maybe they¡¯d let her supervise and then take it away from them once they had the cure? But we¡¯d also have to find a way to transport the whole thing, and¡­ yeah, we¡¯d talk about it.


    By that point, as I was still running the whole idea through my head, Rubi called back. Those three focused on telling her what was going on, while I looked toward Paige and Sierra. ¡°It does feel pretty weird to just pass the information on and let other people deal with it, huh? Like, I know they¡¯re professionals and trying to interfere ourselves would just cause problems, but still. I don¡¯t want to just put it in someone else¡¯s hands.¡±


    ¡°Aww.¡± Sierra reached out to give my helmet a shake as though ruffling my hair. ¡°You¡¯re growing up and learning not to trust anyone else.¡±


    My eyes rolled. ¡°I think I got the ¡®don¡¯t blindly trust other people¡¯ memo loud and clear awhile ago, believe me. But this is worse. This is my family, my parents and your sister, guys. I know. I know how it sounds. I just--I¡¯m terrified that if we just trust other people to deal with it, they¡¯ll screw it up. They¡¯ll let Amanda escape, or let her create something that makes the whole situation worse, or--¡±


    ¡°Paintball.¡± Paige moved in front of me, putting both hands on my shoulders. Our gazes met through the masks and helmet. ¡°They won¡¯t let that happen. We¡¯re talking about the Ministry¡¯s leadership here, not just your parents. They aren¡¯t going to take any chances with them. Now that they know Amanda was responsible for this situation, they¡¯ll keep her under control. If anyone can force her to give them the cure, it¡¯s the Ministry. They¡¯ll figure it out. They have the resources and the¡­ motivation.¡±


    It sort of sounded like she was convincing herself as much as she was me. But either way, I gave a little nod. ¡°You¡¯re right, I get it. We need to let them work. So let¡¯s just go over this place with a fine-tooth comb one more time, take everything useful, and then get out of here.


    ¡°After all, we still need to figure out what to do with Pittman now.¡±


    *********


    So, we searched the place and the computers as thoroughly as possible. Paige and Sierra already had once, but they helped do so again just to make sure. Unfortunately, the first indication was accurate. It was obvious that Amanda had thoroughly wiped the files to remove any indication of how Sleeptalk was made or how to cure it. She left just enough to make it clear she was responsible, which I was a bit curious about. Maybe she¡¯d wanted to be able to take credit or whatever when the time came? She did seem to be that self-centered. I could see her being annoyed about the idea of people thinking anyone else pulled this off.


    In the end, we sent the location and details about how to get in the place to the Ministry, then took off back to the shop. I still felt awkward and anxious about the whole thing, to say the least. It felt like I was passing off responsibility, and if anything worse happened to my parents because I wasn¡¯t right there helping, I would never forgive myself. But what else were we supposed to do? Amanda was in official custody. The Ministry could get to her, but we couldn¡¯t. Besides, the Seraphs, Ten Towers, and the Conservators knew about the situation now too. Between all of them, they had to be able to handle it. They had to be able to get the cure out of one person.


    Maybe I was more worried about what sort of deal they¡¯d make with her. After all, I sort of doubted she would give them what they wanted just because they asked nicely, or targeted her sense of responsibility. And she probably wouldn¡¯t respond well to threats either. No, she was going to want something.


    Yeah, that was what was bothering me the most. Yes, the Ministry and the other official authorities were in the best position to deal with her. But that meant they were in a position to deal with her. They would have to give her something she wanted, and the fear of what that might end up being was making me sweat buckets.


    Finally, we made it back to the shop. Which, to be perfectly honest, some small, paranoid part of me had been fretting about what could¡¯ve happened while we were gone. Yes, Paige and Sierra were in constant contact with the cameras that were watching over Pittman, and they would have said something if he¡¯d tried anything. Still, that sort of logic didn¡¯t make that part of my brain shut up entirely.


    But no, everything seemed fine as we made it inside and let Wren, Fred, and Qwerty know what was going on. Which basically just made them as anxious about the whole thing as we were, unfortunately. But at least we were all on the same page.


    And speaking of being on the same page, before I could say anything else once the others were caught up, Sierra announced, ¡°We need to do something about Daddy Dearest, before something goes wrong. We¡¯re taking a risk every minute we keep him here. Scratch that, we¡¯re taking a hundred risks every minute we keep him here.¡±


    ¡°Amen to that,¡± Fred agreed, sounding tired and stressed. ¡°I¡¯ll be glad to get rid of him. But uhh, how do we do that? Where do we send him? And how do you make sure he keeps quiet about who abducted him?¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t just send him right back to the island,¡± Wren reminded us. ¡°It umm¡­ I checked the machine and I was right. It¡¯ll take weeks to fix it, maybe months. And a lot more special equipment.¡±


    We were still debating about what to do with that bastard when my phone buzzed. Taking a look at who was calling, I frowned briefly before answering. ¡°Eits?¡±


    ¡°Paintball,¡± he immediately replied, sounding like he was out of breath, ¡°you¡¯ve gotta get your group over to your high school!¡±


    Well that made me do a double-take. ¡°What? Why, what¡¯s going on? The school¡¯s been closed for hours.¡±


    ¡°Sports--basketball--big game--lots of people--all here.¡± Eits was panting between words. ¡°Can¡¯t get out--all the people--locked in--can¡¯t open the--¡± He stopped, taking an audible breath. ¡°Get your people, get over here. They¡¯ve got a bunch of guys in the school with guns, and they triggered the lockdown so no one can get in or out. They¡¯re using the civilians here as hostages.¡±


    ¡°Hang on,¡± I immediately replied, ¡°I¡¯ll call in reinforcements and--¡±


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t do that,¡± he quickly interrupted. ¡°They¡¯ve got people in place monitoring all communications with known Star-Touched. They¡¯re watching them, Paintball. I don¡¯t know how, but they are. The second it looks like they¡¯re mobilizing, they¡¯ll kill the hostages. There¡¯s supposed to be guys watching the place you guys hang out at, but I managed to stick a couple Mites in their cars to slow them down. But if you don¡¯t get out of there right now, they¡¯ll see you leaving. You¡¯ve got like two minutes, maybe. So get the hell out of there and¡­ and come save these people before they kill them.¡±


    ¡°Paintball, they said something about making Avant-Guard release their creator.¡±

 Solution 30-13

    ¡°How?!¡± Peyton demanded roughly one minute and forty-five seconds later, as the van we had piled into went tearing out of the alley with a loud roar of the engine. We, in this case, amounted to most of our usual field group of her, Poise and Style, and me. The others, including Calvin and Hobbes, were staying in the shop just in case anything else went wrong. Which, at this point, wouldn¡¯t have surprised me. After all, they could¡¯ve been trying to lure us away from the shop just so they could attack it straight on. But we couldn¡¯t just do nothing, not when people at the school were being held hostage. We had to check it out. Wren¡¯s defenses around the shop would warn her and deal with any initial problems. Attacking a Tech-Touched on their home turf was always a very bad idea, especially when they were home and knew you might be coming.


    Besides, the moment we made it out of the shop, Wren had triggered its lockdown. Every window was covered, the doors were secured, if people wanted to get in there they¡¯d have to try much harder than they might think. And if worse came to worst and they did manage to get through, Wren would use the emergency evacuation system to get herself and the others out to a secondary location. Including Pittman himself.


    On top of all that, Paige and Sierra would know the moment anything came in contact with the security system, so we could try to do something about it. Assuming we could extract ourselves from whatever situation we were in at that point in the school. It wasn¡¯t perfect, to say the least. But we had to do something.


    Help, we needed help. Unfortunately, one of the other things Eits had let us know was that these invaders were apparently monitoring any and all communications with the authorities, and were prepared to¡­ do the worst if we called in the cavalry. Worse, they had people monitoring the various locations so we couldn¡¯t even secretly contact them, because the moment they saw any sort of mobilizing force, they might just decide it was coming for them.


    But that didn¡¯t mean we couldn¡¯t get any help, of course. I sincerely doubted these people had good enough surveillance to cover the Ministry. With Paige driving, I was calling them once again, listening to the phone ring as I did my best not to start cursing loudly about how long it was taking to answer. Seriously, did they not have a big flashing ¡®Paintball only calls when it¡¯s an emergency so pick up immediately¡¯ sign over the phone?


    Yes, telling them what was going on would almost inevitably lead to them finding out that we had taken Pittman and that that was how we knew about Sleeptalk being made by Amanda. Which we hadn¡¯t really wanted to do, but we would deal with that as it came. Getting those hostages out of there safely was a hell of a lot more important than keeping that secret.


    Peyton continued while gripping the handle over her seat as the van took a hard turn, nearly tipping over in the process before managing to right itself. ¡°How the hell would they even know we have him?! Who--are these Biolems? Cup¡¯s Biolems, his--whatever, who the hell are they and how do they know what we¡¯ve been doing?!¡±


    ¡°Maybe there was a security thing that showed us getting into that lab,¡± I pointed out. ¡°If Cup, or whoever she¡¯s got running things for her while she¡¯s in custody, saw us get in, they might¡¯ve been able to put two and two together to figure out we must have Pittman. Especially if they figured out he was taken off the island. It¡¯s possible.¡±


    Sierra¡¯s voice was hard. ¡°Yeah, well if they think we¡¯re just gonna hand him over so he can cause more problems, they¡¯ve got another thing coming. And that thing is my fist.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°We¡¯re not handing him over. If he gets out, things will get a hell of a lot worse than a few hostages at the school.¡± Even as I said that, my stomach felt queasy. What the living fuck was wrong with me? How could I even say that, as though people dying wasn¡¯t a big deal? No, no, that wasn¡¯t what I meant, not at all. I wasn¡¯t saying that the hostages at the school weren¡¯t important! We were going to do everything we could, everything besides letting that monster go to get them out. But if we did let him go, he would kill a lot more people. He would make everything in the city so much worse than it already was. If we let him go and more people died, wasn¡¯t that even worse than if these hostages--no, no, do not think like that, don¡¯t think like that.


    We wouldn¡¯t let it happen. We were not going to let those people die, not tonight.


    Fucking finally, someone at the Ministry answered the phone, his voice a bit tired. But when I started telling him about exactly what was going on, he woke up pretty damn quickly. His first thing was to tell me I should call the cops, but I informed him in no-uncertain terms of what a stupid idea that would be. And I told him that if they officially mobilized any big forces, these guys would find out. So whatever they did, it had to be quiet. They couldn¡¯t make a big production out of it. ¡°You guys do have quiet, subtle ways of handling things, right?¡± I had to believe they had other people like Bobby, those who could get in there and help deal with this without having an entire army of cops or Touched behind them.


    The Ministry person on the other end of the line, who wasn''t either of the Ministers Gray or any other Minister as far as I could tell, took a moment before responding. ¡°You certainly keep yourselves busy, don''t you? Most of us are still rather occupied with the subject of your last call. Do you have any idea what these people at the school are after?¡±


    My eyes rolled at that. ¡°Sure, I know what they want, but I''m not going to tell some random guy who just answers the phone. Put one of your leaders on and I''ll talk to them. Otherwise just know that these people work for Cup and a man named Benjamin Pittman. If you don''t know that one, put it in your system. I¡¯m sure the name will throw up a few red flags and alarms. The point is, send your best agents quietly to the school to help those civilians. We¡¯re heading there right now, but we could use some backup. I mean, fixing shit like this and making sure it doesn''t get out of control is supposed to be the whole reason you all exist, isn''t it? So do something useful instead of complaining that I give you too much work.¡± With that, I disconnected the call before slumping back in my seat with a heavy sigh. ¡°How close are we?¡±


    ¡°Close,¡± Paige replied. ¡°Forty seconds or so before we need to stop and be a little more stealthy so their lookouts don¡¯t see us coming.¡± She paused, exchanging a glance with Sierra and Peyton before adding, ¡°Well, you sure told him.¡±


    A slight blush crossed my face as I squirmed uncomfortably. ¡°I know this whole situation isn''t his fault. He¡¯s not the one holding guns or whatever against those people. When this is over, maybe I''ll call back and apologize or something. But seriously, I just said that there''s a bunch of hostages that are about to be killed at the school and he''s complaining about me giving them too much to do? Why do they even exist if not to deal with this shit when it comes up?¡±


    Paige brought the van into an alley and parked in the deep shadows away from the distant streetlights. Turning the engine off, she twisted around to look at me intently. ¡°They''re going to help. That''s our school, your school. There''s no way the Ministry will let anything too bad happen in there, not when their leaders are already in the hospital. When your parents wake up, if they find out that their people played fast and loose with the lives of people in that school, heads will literally roll. And they know that.¡±


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She was right, obviously. I took a deep breath, then grabbed my helmet and put it on before latching the thing in place. ¡°Right, of course. Whatever they do, let''s see how much we can get done without them. I¡¯d rather not have to depend on them too much. Especially given¡­ well, the reason those fucks are in there to begin with.¡±


    The others piled out of the van with me, and we kept our voices down. Not that we expected it to be all that necessary from this distance (the school was across the street and down a bit), but still. It couldn¡¯t hurt to be careful in a situation like this.


    Paige took a moment, head tilting as though listening to something before she gave a very faint smirk. ¡°They made it. The kid¡¯s cameras picked up a couple probable-Biolems in a truck just down the street, and another truck on the opposite side, watching the other intersection. They showed up two minutes after we left.¡±


    That was one of the main reasons we had been in such a rush to get out of there. Eits had given us a heads-up before these guys were ready, and even helped slow them down before they could show up around the shop to see if we left after they called in their demands. But with Eits¡¯ warning, we were gone before that ever happened. Now they could watch the shop all they wanted. Wren had made sure no one could see into the shop with any sort of heat detection or anything like that, so they would have no idea how many were in there. Murphy and the others would show themselves now and then, and move around just enough to make it clear someone was there. Which would hopefully convince them that their plan was working.


    Their plan? Whose plan was it? Did they have any Biolems who were advanced enough to make plans? Thus far, the only ones besides Paige and Sierra that we¡¯d seen were the dumb sort who simply followed orders. But there was no way that kind would have been able to come up with something like this. So who did? Was it a smart Biolem, or someone else Amanda had left in charge? Who the fuck was doing this?


    With those confusing questions filling my head, I checked my phone again. Eits had been sending me texts full of information. He was hiding out in a corner of the basement, having narrowly avoided being caught before he could call us. He said they had no idea he was there, but I was still worried about the boy. Looking through his messages, I read the details aloud. ¡°Thirty guys in total inside the school itself, all dressed in military camo and carrying automatic weapons. They¡¯re mostly spread through the school, six of them in the main gymnasium with almost three-quarters of the hostages, another six in the pool area with fifteen more hostages tied over the water with weights to hold them down if those guys cut the rope, three in the main office with another few hostages, and the remaining fifteen in five groups of three doing constant walkthroughs. Another few on the roof and an unknown number out on the grounds, he¡¯s not sure because they broke a few of the cameras out there. And, of course, they¡¯ve got it all locked down to stop anyone from getting in or out. Or try to.¡±


    Sierra shrugged. ¡°Good thing we weren''t planning to take the direct way in. Otherwise, that might''ve been an actual problem.¡± She was already turning to walk down the alley ahead of us away from the direction of the school while adding, ¡°So, do you think the Ministry¡¯s gonna use that door teleporter of theirs to send in their attack squad?¡±


    Following her with the others, I replied, ¡°I guess it depends what their limitations are. But if it''s possible, I''d say absolutely. For all we know, they''ve already got someone in there.¡± Even as I said, I was checking my phone to see if there was anything from Eits, either about that very subject, or anything else. But there was nothing. His last update had been a couple minutes earlier when he said he would be watching for our arrival. I had to assume that if he¡¯d spotted someone playing commando through the halls of the school dealing with these intruders, he would have mentioned it. Unless something had happened to him-- No, god damn it, don''t think about that, Cass. Shut the hell up. Ryder was going to be fine. He was holed up in a safe place and they had no idea he was even there. They didn¡¯t know they needed to be on the lookout for him. As long as it stayed that way, he¡¯d be fine. We just had to deal with this.


    Shaking that off, I sent the boy a text letting him know that we were in the area and would be there soon. Maybe that was mostly so I could reassure myself by getting a response from him, but still. I let out a slight breath of relief when he sent back a thumbs up emoji. Was it weird to communicate with emojis at a time like this? Or was that more appropriate because we were communicating more efficiently? I wasn''t sure, but I did send him an emoji with its finger to its lips in a shushing motion to indicate he should stay quiet. He, in turn, replied with one that had both hands over its mouth.


    Soon, we reached the end of that alley. But rather than going out the other side, we stopped in front of what looked like a blank brick wall. Paige reached to touch several of the bricks in order, pushing them in. After she finished the sequence, that part of the wall slid aside to reveal a dimly-lit stairwell leading down. Yeah, we definitely weren¡¯t taking the normal way into the school. I wasn¡¯t even going to use my pink paint to go in through the roof or anything like that. They would clearly be ready for that sort of thing, watching every part of the building. Instead, we were using the secret tunnel that led to that room where Paige, Amber, and I had been practicing with my paint before.


    The Ministry would be mobilizing whatever they had by now, they would be sending someone who knew how to handle this situation. Paige was right about them not wanting to be the ones to tell my parents they¡¯d let people in my school die. So we would have help soon. But we couldn¡¯t wait for it. We had to get in there and start dealing with this. Even as we started down the steps into the tunnel, I spoke in a soft whisper, ¡°You know, there¡¯s another problem. What if these guys have a shutdown code or whatever for you two?¡± I was glancing over my shoulder at Paige and Sierra pointedly. ¡°Or worse, something to take control of you. Maybe¡­ maybe you should stay here in the tunnel until Alloy and I scout ahead and check it out.¡±


    Paige absolutely didn¡¯t like that. It was clear from her body language. But she couldn''t really argue with it either. The same went for Sierra, though she was more audible about her annoyance, cursing several times under her breath. Then she gave a long, heavy sigh. ¡°We really need to focus on removing any and all commands like that.¡±


    It was Paige¡¯s turn to curse, something about how she had been working on it for a long time but never knew if she had everything. Then she turned her attention to me. ¡°Okay, look, take this.¡± Extending her hand, she held out a small thumb drive. ¡°The main server room for the school is in the library. If you can get there without being caught and plug that in, then get Eits to bypass their security, you should be able to make the file on there infest the whole system. Once you do that, get Eits to activate the execute command and it¡¯ll send a signal through the intercom to shut down all the Biolems.¡± Before I could say anything else to that, she added, ¡°We¡¯ll be safe down here. But be careful, they might have non-Biolems in there. You¡¯ll have to check before you send that signal, because the second the Biolems go down, any of them who aren¡¯t will probably take it out on the hostages. So you¡¯ll need to be ready to stop them.¡±


    ¡°How do we check which ones are Biolems and which aren¡¯t?¡± Peyton demanded.


    The other two exchanged looks before Sierra replied, ¡°There isn¡¯t really an easy way to tell for sure without alerting everyone. You¡¯ll have to get it all set up, then get enough people to watch over each room where the hostages are. When it¡¯s triggered, you¡¯ll need to hit whoever¡¯s still standing all at the same time. Which means hoping the Ministry¡¯s ninja squad shows up. Or Poise and I are gonna have to risk going in fast and hard enough to stop them before they can use any commands. If they have them.¡±


    Exhaling, I looked toward Peyton. ¡°Right, so the two of us get inside, place this thumb drive, sneak around without getting caught, and hope help shows up so we can fight everyone who isn¡¯t a Biolem all at the same time. Without letting any hostages get hurt.


    ¡°And hey, if we¡¯ve got time, maybe I¡¯ll even find that biography on Sacagawea that I was supposed to check out for my final paper.¡±

 Solution 30-14

    So, it was down to Alloy and me to get in the school, sneak through the whole place without getting caught by any of the armed troops patrolling around it, plug this USB drive in, and get Eits to trigger the thing so it could disable all the Biolems. Oh, and we had to do it in a way that left us able to save the hostages from anyone in there who wasn¡¯t a Biolem just in case they reacted violently to their buddies keeling over. Two of us and hostages in three different locations. Three with Eits, but I wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d feel about getting directly involved in something like that. Sure, he¡¯d already called us over here and he was going to be helping out with shutting down the Biolems, but I¡¯d already gotten him severely hurt once before. I didn¡¯t want to ask him to do anything else that might result in worse happening. Besides, we¡¯d contacted the Ministry. They had to send someone over here. We would have help once this all went down. I¡¯d much rather picture Fisher throwing these guys around than Eits getting himself shot.


    Either way, first we had to actually get the drive where it belonged without getting caught. Having any of those patrolling guys stumble across us and open fire would really screw up our entire plan. Fortunately, that was one place where Eits could help. I¡¯d already sent him a message about what we were doing, and he replied by sending my phone a live video feed of the security cameras nearest to that secret basement room. Peyton and I were at the top of the stairs after going through the room I¡¯d used for training. I¡¯d asked Paige and Sierra about waiting in that room, but they felt safer in the tunnel beyond. It was further away from the signal this USB was going to broadcast. They weren¡¯t sure it would reach down into that room, but better safe than sorry. We had enough problems right now without those two getting shut down.


    Crouching there together at the top of the stairs, the two of us watched my phone screen. One of those groups of three patrolling guards was passing by that northeast stairwell, the one just in front of where this semi-hidden door was. They passed out of sight of the camera, and I strained my ears, trying to listen. There was absolutely no reason for them to come to this door, let alone open it, but still. It would hardly be the first time something unexpected happened to completely complicate something we were trying to do. Case in point: this entire situation from start to finish. This whole thing had started simply because we told Irelyn a lie about what was going on with Paige, and she had gone to investigate. Which led to¡­ to this, all of it. Yeah, sure, we weren¡¯t responsible for everything. Amanda had already been working with Pittman and they would have just found another way to unleash this plague or whatever. But still, we were the reason it had happened this way. And it seemed like every time we tried to fix it, something else just happened to make it even worse. It was getting old.


    Thankfully, in this case, we didn¡¯t have that problem. A few seconds after the guys we were watching vanished from that camera, Eits changed the view a bit. Now half the screen was taken up with that view, while the other half was showing the view from the camera at the top of those stairs. We could see those three guys just reaching the top of those stairs. They paused for a moment, clearly chatting with each other (if only these cameras came with sound) before turning to walk back down that other corridor.


    Other than that, with those guys gone, our way out of this room was clear. Peyton and I glanced at one another, nodded, then I carefully turned the handle and pushed it slowly while activating the black paint I had already put on the thing as we were waiting. Yeah, I was pretty sure the door wouldn¡¯t squeak anyway, but there was no sense in risking anything stupid happening just because we made assumptions.


    With the door open, we slipped out, but didn¡¯t go any further than that. We made sure to stay away from the cameras, since we were pretty sure these guys were watching them too. It wasn¡¯t like Eits was the only one with access. Well, he could be, but it would mean locking them out of the system and they might notice something like that.


    Fortunately, there was something he could do without being obvious about his presence. Once Peyton and I were in that space next to the door, I sent him a quick text that we were ready. He, in turn, put a countdown on the video feed (one only we could see, I assumed) going from ten. When it approached zero, I gave both of us a shot of black paint, as we got ready. The moment the countdown ended, the two of us shot forward, right into camera view. But we wouldn¡¯t show up on it. Eits was looping the footage of both that camera, and the one upstairs (the one those three guards had just been on a moment earlier) just long enough for us to get past them both. The countdown had been while he waited for those guards to get far enough away that whoever was monitoring the feed wouldn¡¯t notice them suddenly vanish off it.


    Just before the two of us reached the stairs, I grabbed Peyton around the waist. She held on tight, while I used a shot of red against the ceiling above to yank us all the way up there without ever touching a single step. We landed, and I reflexively looked down the hall. The trio we¡¯d been waiting for were nowhere in sight, but this was a long hallway and someone could come into view at any point. Even with Eits monitoring, something could always go wrong.


    There was a classroom door right there, and Peyton was already checking the knob. It was locked, but she just transformed one of her marbles into a gooey key shape. It slipped into the lock, hardened in the right places, and she twisted it. Just like that, the door was open and we went right through. A second later, the door was closed and locked once more. We were out of sight, and I sent Eits a salute emoji message so he could put the cameras back to normal.


    And now we were safely in an English classroom. Not mine, I attended the one across the hall, but it all looked familiar enough. There were two narrow bands of dim lights all around the room, one just a few inches off the floor and the other a few inches down from the ceiling. So at least we weren¡¯t standing in complete darkness.


    Keeping her voice low, Peyton whispered, ¡°Dude, are there fifteen desks in this place? You have fifteen person classrooms? I¡¯ve got forty-three people in my English period, and that¡¯s average. And are those iPads? Why would you guys leave your--wait are those classroom iPads? Like, separate brand new thousand dollar computer pads for each class that-- okay, you know what? I kinda want to rob you people right now.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s hold off on that, Robin Hood,¡± I retorted with a little self-conscious blush. ¡°At least until we make sure no one in here is gonna die.¡± After a brief pause, I added, ¡°Besides, those iPads are only middle of the road, really. Not that good for anything advanced, and they¡¯ve got trackers on them. You take them out of here, not only will they be able to find you, they can also disable the thing so it¡¯s about as useful as a brick. Except not, since bricks can be very useful in the right circumstances. A frozen iPad is just¡­ nothing.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes, it¡¯s not about having a new toy, PB,¡± she retorted. ¡°It¡¯s about sending a message. But yeah, probably not the right time for messages. Unless that message is, ¡®hey all the bad guys are tied up would you people come collect them?¡¯¡±


    My head bobbed a bit at that. ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a good message to me. So, let''s do this so we can send it.¡± Even as I was saying that, I crossed to the back corner of the room. The library was at the end of this row of classrooms, but we had to get there first. Part of me felt a little guilty about how we were planning on doing that, but not enough to risk being seen by doing it any other way. With those groups patrolling, even Eits could only help so much. The safest and quietest way to get there was to make some holes in the walls and go right through these classrooms. And hey, with my new black-pink combination, we could push through the material like it was soft sand instead of clay.


    While I was making that black-pink hole for us to push our way through, conserving as much paint as I could, Peyton checked her phone before grimacing. ¡°Hobbes says they called the shop, wanted to talk to you. She gave them the runaround and said to send proof that they actually have hostages. But we¡¯re pretty sure they¡¯ll figure out something¡¯s up if the pictures they¡¯re sending over don¡¯t get you on the phone.¡±


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    Grimacing, I thought about how bad it would be to whisper my way through a conversation like that. But if I spoke up, there was a chance someone in the hall could hear. Or--wait. ¡°Have them send the call to Poise,¡± I replied, ¡°she can fake my voice.¡± It was already a fake voice as it was, so this would be like two levels of fake. ¡°Just have her try to negotiate, talk them down, whatever she needs to do to stall. We¡¯re getting there.¡±


    Even as I said that, she and I were both crawling carefully through the hole I¡¯d made and into the next classroom. Eits had put the video from the security camera in this hall back on my phone, so I could see three different guys coming the opposite way. But they weren¡¯t here yet, so we kept moving. Now wasn¡¯t the time to dilly dally. Staying low, we made our way past more desks (twelve in this one, which really made Peyton scoff). Reaching the opposite wall without ever standing up fully, I started to paint a new hole there. When the trio on the camera got close enough that they could conceivably hear us moving, both of us went completely still. And, of course, it was this classroom that those guys chose to stand right outside of as they stopped to chat. We couldn''t make out their words, but I could hear the murmur of voices. If I didn''t know any better, I would have said they were doing it deliberately just to fuck with us. Could they just move the hell on already?


    While we were waiting, Peyton held her phone up for me to see. There was a message from Paige letting us know that she had stalled these guys by telling them that we were going to talk about letting Pittman go. We figured they wouldn¡¯t give us much time for that, but they¡¯d probably feel safe enough with their lookouts in place to let us squirm trying to come up with another solution for at least a few minutes. The others back at the shop just had to make it look like we were scrambling and caught off guard. I had faith they could play it up enough to make these guys think they were winning. Again, thanks to Eits, our biggest advantage here was that we found out what was happening before they could get their people in place to watch us.


    Eits really was the MVP of this whole thing. And if we managed to get through this without losing any hostages, it would be completely thanks to him.


    Finally, the Chatty Cathies outside stopped talking and moved on down the hall. Did the fact that they had actually stood there and talked with each other mean that at least two of the three were human and not Biolem? Or did it mean they were advanced Biolems? But would the advanced versions need to talk out loud with each other? Paige and Sierra tended to send direct communication over their private connection. Maybe two of them were advanced Biolems communicating out loud with the third, who was human. Or--okay yeah it really wasn¡¯t important right now. Time to move on.


    Gradually, the two of us continued through one classroom after another. We stayed low, kept watching the security camera feed to stop when anyone was nearby, and generally did our level best to move as quickly as possible without getting caught. And without giving the people here, whoever and whatever they were, any reason to even suspect that someone might have managed to sneak past their defenses.


    Eventually, we made it into the library itself, at the rear of the second floor where the reference books were. Unfortunately, the area we needed was up one level, on the third/top floor. That was where the server room was. Which wouldn¡¯t have been as much of a problem given we could just go through the ceiling, if it wasn¡¯t for one thing: the patrols had changed. Now we had one group of three standing around the middle of this part of the library. They were separated from us by several rows of bookshelves, a few desks, and other bits and pieces. But if we went up to the ceiling, they¡¯d notice. And even if they didn¡¯t notice then, they would definitely spot the hole we¡¯d leave there. We couldn¡¯t even make our way back to find another way around, because there were guys out in the hallway too. And we couldn¡¯t simply go back into the previous room before going up from there, because there were other guys in that part of the library. Which was just totally fantastic. Once again, I almost would¡¯ve thought they were fucking with us and knew we were here the whole time, but they had set up positions like that in other, more distant parts of the school too. They didn¡¯t know we were here, they were just covering potentially vulnerable areas now that they knew we might try to find a way in. Even though they had to assume we were still contained back in the shop, they were doing all this just in case. It was so, so incredibly annoyingly competent.


    Honestly, I was just jumpy. A couple different times as we were moving through those classrooms, I could have sworn I saw the shadow of a person inside the room with us, but there was never anyone there. This whole situation was making me paranoid.


    We were stuck here in the back of the second floor of the library and needed to be on the third floor. But we couldn¡¯t just jump up to go through the ceiling, and we couldn¡¯t go out into the hall to go around these guys. We needed some other way to get there, and we needed to do it as quickly as possible. They might be willing to wait for a few minutes to see what we did back at the shop, to let us figure out that we were ¡®trapped.¡¯ But that wouldn¡¯t last forever. Any minute now, they were going to get suspicious. And we really didn¡¯t need them to have any reason to start paying even more attention to what was going on around here. If they started peeking into individual classrooms to double check and ended up finding the holes in the walls that I¡¯d left behind¡­ it wouldn¡¯t be good.


    Peyton and I hadn¡¯t spoken to each other out loud, not even in a whisper, since we came into the room. Yes, there was a fair bit of distance and obstacles between us and those people, but if any of them were Biolems we didn¡¯t want to risk being overheard. Fortunately, the lights in here were all on so we could have our phones out and communicate that way, through text on the screen, without exposing ourselves. We batted around a few different ideas about how to get upstairs, dismissing the first couple as too dangerous before settling on the best chance we had under the circumstances. It was simple. We were going to have to sneak around those guys and get to the far opposite side, where there was a small storage closet. We could get in there, which would hide the hole I made. And it was far enough away from the group upstairs so they wouldn¡¯t spot us coming up. Even better, it was right near the server room.


    The hard part was going to be that whole ¡®getting around these guys without being spotted¡¯ problem. Which was where all the lights in here being on became a bad thing. There were no shadows to hide in, and only so much cover. From the area those guys were standing around in, there were several spots where we would need to go right past their field of vision. But we could do it. We just had to take it one step at a time, literally. First, I gave both of us black paint, put one hand on Peyton¡¯s arm, then waited. She, in turn, put a floating marble platform under our feet, lifting us a couple inches off the floor. I gave the marble a shot of black as well. We weren¡¯t going to risk walking, even with the paint. Instead, she would float us forward while I kept applying paint to make sure even our movements through the air were completely silent.


    Meanwhile, Eits was watching the security camera view of the area where those guys were. Every time we came to the edge of an open area where they could have seen us, we waited there. My eyes were locked to my phone, while I kept one hand on Peyton¡¯s arm. The second those guys were all looking in the wrong direction, Eits would send a ¡®go¡¯ message. I, in turn, would activate the next bit of black paint while squeezing Peyton¡¯s arm. When she felt that squeeze, she would send us forward through the open space.


    It was a nerve wracking time, obviously. Both because it took far too long for those guys to stop looking our way, and because they could always turn back at the exact wrong moment. But we kept going, and bit by bit, we made it to the opposite side. Finally, we stepped off the marble platform, very carefully opened the closet door (yes, I painted that black as well), and slipped inside.


    From there, it was easy. I black-pink painted the ceiling and Peyton carried us up through it on another marble platform. That put us on the right floor, right next to the server room. After taking a second to make sure the group up there was sufficiently far away and hadn¡¯t noticed us, I used one more little bit of pink on the lock before quietly pushing the door open.


    And just like that, we were in the server room. Staying low, both of us moved to the back, finding a slot to stick the USB drive in. Once it was there, I breathed out. ¡°Okay,¡± I whispered almost inaudibly, ¡°hope you¡¯re ready, Eits.


    ¡°Cuz it¡¯s just about time to shut these guys down.¡±

 Solution 30-15

    Obviously, we had to be very careful about the timing of this whole situation. Things would get very bad very quickly if we used that signal to disable all the Biolems, but left the ordinary humans up and kicking. The second they realized what had happened, all those hostages would be in danger. We needed to be ready to get into each of the three areas they were holding those hostages so we could protect them. And, well, finish dealing with whoever was left over.


    Finishing dealing with whoever was left over. What sort of thought was that? What was it¡­still barely close to three months since I had Touched. Three months since finding two armed guys had completely terrified me. Now, after a freaking eyeblink-worth of time, all this was going on. Just¡­ wow.


    Unfortunately, there were a few issues with that whole ¡®dealing with them¡¯ thing, even considering our advantages of surprise and being able to shut down the Biolems. Namely, Paige and Sierra couldn''t be in the building when the signal was sent out, or they''d be shut down too. Which meant Peyton and I were alone in here. Well, not exactly alone. We had Eits, but he wasn''t suited for direct physical confrontation. He was going to do his best to help by taking control of the school''s security system and keeping doors locked along with anything else that he could manage. But actually punching someone? Yeah, if it came down to that, something had gone horribly wrong. I didn''t even want to think about how bad the situation would need to be for that boy to get into a fistfight.


    So, we had three hostage locations to cover, and only two people who could fight. Because obviously there had been no sign of any Ministry people yet. Which, to be honest, was really starting to piss me off. They had to realize this was important, right? Did they think I had been lying? Did I not stress the urgency enough? If the guy I spoke to on the phone hadn¡¯t passed on the message, I was gonna¡­ uuurghh.


    Someone from the Ministry had better show up soon to help out, I told myself, or I was going to call that number and spend several hours giving them every possible piece of my mind until I was satisfied. There would be a lot of words, and none of them would be very polite. If the Ministry was supposed to be good for anything at all, they should be able to help out with this drastic situation in my own goddamn school. And yes, I knew I was ignoring the fact that they were probably busy with the whole Amanda thing while already working without their full membership due to the Sleeptalk problem. But right then, I really didn¡¯t care. I just wanted to get this situation dealt with and not end up losing any hostages in the process. I needed these people to show up and make themselves useful. And, well, I really wanted to see a bear in a suit stampeding through the halls doing kung fu or whatever on these guys, damn it. Was that so much to ask for? I¡¯d settle for suited raccoon kung fu, but the bear would be even better.


    In that moment, while Peyton and I were having a whispered conversation about how exactly we were going to deal with this and somehow manage to cover three locations with only two of us, a voice abruptly spoke up from just behind us. ¡°Are you ready?¡±


    Yeah, I¡¯m not ashamed to say I jumped almost out of my skin. Literally leaping out of my crouched position, I spun while holding a hand out. Beside me, Peyton did the same, each of us yelping. One of her marbles turned into a hammer and swung through the air, while I sent a spray of blue at the shadowy figure who had just appeared out of nowhere.


    Shadowy figure turned out to be an apt description. The feminine-looking form seemed to be made out of thick shadows. Both my paint and Alloy¡¯s marble hammer went right through it, like a ghost. Or one of the non-solid Syndicates. For a second, I even thought this was Nasty again. But no, Nasty was¡­ thicker, more solid-looking. This person was like dark smoke shaped in a visibly female body, with a face that was very basic-looking without much in the way of detail. Just a nose, mouth, and vague impression of eyes. Nothing that would allow me to pick her out of a lineup later.


    If the ghostly figure was at all put off by having both of us attack and yelp at her, she didn¡¯t show it. Instead, she simply continued with, ¡°You requested help from the Ministry. I¡¯m here to provide that. You may call me Z.¡±


    Wait, Z, I knew that. The files we stole from the Ministry base in the mall had mentioned a Plan Z. They were the person who took Luciano out of the city. I''d thought maybe that was talking about a group, but apparently it was an individual. This individual. And going by what we¡¯d seen in those files, her being here was a big deal.


    Alloy found her voice first. ¡°You--wait, you came to help?¡±


    Okay, I said she found her voice first, not that she managed to come up with something brilliant to actually say with that voice. Still, she was a step ahead of me, given the only thing my brain was doing in that moment was giving a high-pitched staticky buzzing noise.


    After a very brief pause, the shadow-woman lifted her head before looking back and forth between us. There was a note of what sounded somewhat like amusement in her voice. ¡°Yes. You did request aid, didn¡¯t you? If you¡¯d prefer to handle this situation entirely on your own, I could step back and watch. Or even offer pointers.¡±


    There was something else about her voice. I felt like I¡¯d heard it before, though it seemed somewhat distorted. Whether it was something her shadowy-form was doing or what, I couldn¡¯t say. But what I could make out of the voice definitely seemed familiar. Which wasn¡¯t all that surprising. If she was some important part of the Ministry, I¡¯d probably met her civilian self at some point. Honestly, if I hadn¡¯t already known it was impossible in the current situation, I might¡¯ve wondered if she was my mother. But no, even then, I¡¯d definitely know my mom¡¯s voice. That wasn¡¯t--


    Focus, Cassidy. Shaking off those thoughts, I gave a quick nod. ¡°No, we wanted help. Want help. Definitely want help. You kinda got here just in time. There¡¯s three places where these guys have hostages set up, so we¡¯ll each have to take one of them to make sure nobody dies. They¡¯re down in the pool, in the gym, and in the main--¡±


    I stopped talking as Z held up a hand. Her voice was polite. ¡°I mean no offense, but I am aware of the situation. I have¡­ handled the human targets. Or will have handled, when the time comes. You don¡¯t need to worry about them. But there are others who are not so human. Several spread throughout the building. They appear to be wired to explosives. If they and the humans are not disabled together, and all at the same time, one of them will trigger those explosives. Which would be¡­ bad.¡±


    Oh, well that was just great. Blanching at the thought of what would¡¯ve happened if we had tried something without knowing about those bombs, I forced myself to sound as casual as possible. But my voice still cracked. ¡°O-oh, well it¡¯s a good thing we have a way to shut all those Biolems down at once. That¡¯s what this thing we just installed is for.¡± My head nodded toward the USB drive. ¡°As soon as¡­ our friend activates it, they¡¯ll go down. But we need to be in position to deal with the human bad guys at each hostage location.¡±


    I started to ask her which location she wanted to cover, but Z simply replied, ¡°Go ahead and tell your friend to activate the device.¡± When both of us protested, she held up her hand again, waiting until we fell silent. ¡°You have my word, when the device activates, the other troops will be handled as well. The hostages will be safe.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure what that was supposed to mean or how exactly she could guarantee that, but if I remembered those files right, this ¡®Plan Z¡¯ was supposed to be pretty effective. And, well, the name itself implied she was a person who was called in once every other possible option had been expended. She sounded incredibly dangerous.


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    ¡°Well okay,¡± I muttered, ¡°but I really hope that isn¡¯t Z for ¡®Zoinks We Really Shouldn¡¯t Have Trusted Her.¡¯ Cuz boy would that be egg on our faces.¡± With that, I exchanged nods with Peyton while quickly typing a message to Eits, telling him to go ahead and trigger the Biolem countermeasures. He, of course, sent a message back asking if I had lost my mind and wanting to know what we were going to do about the other guys. After all, not only did we not have a third person to handle the hostage areas (as far as he knew), but we weren¡¯t even anywhere near the rooms themselves. There wasn¡¯t a camera in here, so he had no idea we had company.


    Grimacing, I sent back a quick message, promising that I knew what I was doing. I simply added that we had help, and that that help had assured us it would be okay. Which, yeah, if this turned out badly, I really was going to feel like shit. Did we even know for certain this ¡®Z¡¯ was really from the Ministry? It could be some sort of trick, someone working with these guys, or¡­ no, no, it wasn¡¯t that. We had called those guys for help, and I remembered the whole Plan Z reference in those files. It would be a pretty big coincidence for this woman to claim that name while knowing we asked the Ministry for help. Besides, if she was working with these people there wouldn¡¯t be any reason to show herself and go through all this. Her working with them would mean they knew we were here.


    No, she was part of the Ministry. Which meant, in this case at least, we were on the same side. Holding that thought firmly in mind, I sent the assurance to Ryder while adding a little comment about that incredible lasagna we¡¯d had the other day so he¡¯d know it was really me.


    After a few seconds, he sent back a thumbs up, along with a link back to the security camera footage, cycling through various scenes while a countdown starting from ten. As I held up my phone so the others could see, the misty, dark form of Z came a little closer. I was pretty sure that should have intimidated me, yet I felt oddly comforted. If she worked for the Ministry--if she was their final problem solver, this lady was obviously incredibly dangerous. But I didn¡¯t feel endangered. I felt safe. And right at this particular moment, I seriously had no time to actually examine what that meant.


    Speaking of no time, the countdown finished while all three of us were staring at it. As soon as it did, I heard some sort of faint humming noise go through the intercom system. It was almost imperceptible, just barely at the very edge of my perception. But the effect was instantly apparent. Two of the three guys on the screen in front of us collapsed, leaving the third guy to whirl and stare at them. The view shifted to the next camera in that moment, showing one guy down with two standing over him.


    Right, our thing was working, but what about--


    And then those two men suddenly recoiled, blood spurting from their throats. I had a view of them collapsing just before the camera shifted again, revealing three fallen figures all laying together, one with blood coming from a similar wound. Then we saw the inside of the gym, where all six guys were down, leaving confused and panicked hostages. The pool was the same story, as was the main office. Everywhere, every bad guy in part of the school, they were all down. The Biolems were disabled, and the humans, they were¡­ they were¡­


    ¡°They¡¯re dead,¡± Peyton blurted, her eyes snapping up toward Z accusingly. ¡°You¡­ you killed them.¡±


    The woman¡¯s voice was matter-of-fact. ¡°They endangered innocents. They were going to murder every person in here. They willingly worked with people like Amanda Sanvers and Benjamin Pittman, according to you. Of course I killed them. Now they¡¯ll never endanger anyone else again.¡±


    ¡°But how did you do that?¡± I found myself cutting in, the shock in my voice readily apparent even to my own ears. ¡°You just--they were okay and then they¡­ they just¡­¡±


    The very simple-looking mouth on the woman¡¯s shadowy face turned up in a faint smile. ¡°I¡¯m good at my job.¡± That was all she said, all she needed to say, really. Then she added, ¡°Just as you are good at what you do. We all make the world go round in our own ways. I¡¯m rather glad this city has people like you to protect it. I do what I can for certain problems, but my way can¡¯t solve everything. You¡¯re important too.¡±


    There was¡­ a lot I wanted to say to that, but now really wasn¡¯t the time. Nor was it the time to focus on the fact that she had killed all those people. Sure, the thought made me feel queasy, especially for the part I¡¯d played in it. But she wasn¡¯t wrong about the fact that these guys had been threatening to kill a whole lot of people. I just¡­ yeah, it was complicated and I really didn¡¯t want to think about it right then.


    Fortunately, I had a ready-made distraction so I wouldn¡¯t have to. Those hostages were freaking out, especially the ones who were suspended over the pool. The whole thing had gone down too quickly for any of Cup¡¯s people (or were they more Pittman¡¯s people, was there a difference?) to cut the ropes, but those people were still losing their minds. And why not? After all, they¡¯d literally just seen the guys who had taken them hostage keel over dead of apparently nothing. Whether it was the Biolems we had knocked out of commission, or the humans Z had¡­ had¡­ done whatever she did to, the people holding them prisoner had all just keeled over.


    Yeah, maybe they weren¡¯t exactly crying over the loss, but it still had to be pretty terrifying to witness. It was scary from here and I was just seeing the aftermath through the camera. Plus I¡¯d been partially responsible for half of it! Just¡­ just not the permanent part.


    Either way, we had to go help them. I was already rising and turning to head for the door even as Eits continued blowing up my phone with a rush of messages asking what the hell had just happened and how. Instead of getting into it, I sent a quick text telling him to get out of the building before people came to investigate, and that I¡¯d tell him exactly what happened later. After a brief hesitation, I sent another message, thanking him for everything and reiterating my promise to explain as much as I could as soon as I had a chance.


    Alloy was right behind me. As we passed through the library beyond the server room and made it to the door leading into the hall, I looked over my shoulder to ask Z if she was going to help out with the cleanup. But, of course, she was gone. She¡¯d disappeared as silently and mysteriously as she had arrived.


    ¡°That is one terrifying chick,¡± Peyton murmured, eyes clearly scanning the shadows in every corner of the library as though searching for any sign of her. ¡°And umm, what exactly are we gonna tell people about what happened to those bodies? Or, hell, what the biolems even are.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, we¡¯ll figure it out,¡± I managed with a wince as the realization of just how much trouble this could be began to settle in. ¡°But we¡¯ve gotta help the hostages first.¡±


    So, we ran to deal with that, passing a couple different¡­ piles of bodies in the process. I wasn¡¯t sure how many of them were dead and how many were simply disabled Biolems, and right then we didn¡¯t have time to check. We just¡­ we just had to make sure all those people made it out of here. Preferably without having to see any more bodies than they already had. As it was, I really did have no idea how we were ever going to explain any of what happened to the authorities. It was a lot.


    On the way to the pool (we were going there first since those people were in the most danger, suspended over the water while being tied up like that), I called Paige, talking to her through the bluetooth. ¡°It¡¯s done!¡± I blurted while the two of us careened down the stairs and past another trio of fallen forms we were trying very hard to ignore. ¡°They¡¯re down, but don¡¯t come in yet, we don¡¯t know exactly what sort of defenses those guys might¡¯ve set up. Just--just stay there.¡± Before Paige could argue, I gave her a roughly ten second explanation of what had happened. She was quiet when I mentioned Z showing up, and what the woman had done. Then she simply replied, ¡°Good. Amanda and Pittman have enough of an advantage, taking away any resources from them is¡­ it¡¯s for the best.¡±


    Before I had to try to find a response to that, Peyton and I made it through the locker rooms and to the pool. As soon as we arrived, I expected to hear the people suspended by the rope start shouting for help. But there was no shouting. Even more surprising, there were no hostages. None. They weren¡¯t there. Nor were there any dead human bad guys or disabled Biolem ones. The pool area was empty. Everyone who had been there just a minute or two earlier were just¡­ gone.


    Peyton and I looked at one another, while Paige and Sierra demanded to know what was going on. Immediately, I took out my phone to check the security camera footage once more, since the link was still active even though Eits had taken off. Bit by bit, I checked each camera, only to see it was the same in all of them. Every single one of the hostages throughout the building were gone, as were all the bodies. The school was empty. It had been cleared out that quickly.


    That was when a message came across the screen from one of the cameras. It simply read, ¡®Thank you for your service, Avant-Guard. The bodies will be disposed of and the hostages will be returned to their homes without memory of these events. And I meant what I said, I do admire you. Good luck! - Z¡¯

 Solution 30-16

    So the hostages were gone, as were the bad guys, Biolem and human alike. Everyone was gone. The Ministry had managed to quickly and silently remove every sign that anything had happened in this place before we even knew anyone besides that Plan Z chick was here. That was¡­ that was almost scary, honestly. They were able to clean things up that effectively, probably because they had a fair amount of practice with it.


    Well, okay, maybe not every sign. I wasn¡¯t sure how they would explain the holes I had made in those classroom walls. Vandalism? Obviously they would be taking all the camera footage, which¡­ yeah, that was gonna be interesting.


    In the few seconds that had passed since Peyton and I both saw that note, I froze. We were both processing what that meant and just how much the Ministry had cleaned up. Then my eyes widened and I immediately yanked my phone back before turning to run. ¡°Come on, we gotta get out of here, I have to check on--I¡¯ve gotta check!¡±


    Peyton was clearly confused, but followed me. I wanted to check right then, but the paranoid part of me wouldn¡¯t let me do it inside the school where all the cameras were. Well, technically it was another paranoid part of me that was panicking over something else right then. Two paranoid parts were at war with one another, but the one that was afraid of the Ministry eavesdropping through those cameras won that particular round.


    The second we were off the school grounds and reached the alley across the street, Paige and Sierra joined us. But I barely acknowledged them before grabbing my phone and hitting the button to call Eits. My heart had leapt up into my throat while my stomach flipped over and over several times and twisted itself into knots as the sound of the phone ringing came through the bluetooth in my ear. The fear was enough to choke me. ¡°Pick up, pick up, pick up!¡± On that last repeated bit, my fist abruptly lashed out to punch the nearby wall hard enough to hurt my knuckles. Which made all three of the others blurt their own assortment of questions. But I didn¡¯t care in that moment. I would¡¯ve broken my fucking hand if it meant Eits would answer the fucking phone!


    ¡°Uh, yo, everything okay?¡± The boy¡¯s voice came a moment later, cutting through my mounting blind panic. ¡°You said it was all taken care of so I figured you were gonna be busy for awhile. Don¡¯t tell me they had reinforcements or something. Wait, did they--¡±


    ¡°Eits!¡± I blurted, interrupting him while my hand lashed out to the wall, this time to brace myself against it as my knees threatened to buckle out from under me. ¡°Are you okay? You didn¡¯t get picked up by anyone, or taken across any amber bridges by girls made out of shadow? Is there a talking bear or raccoon anywhere near you?¡±


    There was an extended pause, during which I could hear the others whisper something about me getting a hold of myself before I freaked him out even more. Then Ryder¡¯s voice came back, slow and confused. ¡°Umm¡­ noooo¡­.? I can¡¯t say as I¡¯ve experienced anything like that, Paintball. Are you okay over there? Cuz I can come back, you know, try to check you out for anything, um, you know, anything.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m okay,¡± I quickly insisted. ¡°I mean, as long as you¡¯re--the Ministry¡¯s been cleaning up in here. They took everyone, all the bad guys, all the hostages, and all the bodies. And they¡¯re gonna--¡± My voice caught a little as I had to take a breath and force the words out. ¡°They¡¯re gonna erase their memories so they don¡¯t remember what happened here. I just didn¡¯t--I wanted to make sure they didn¡¯t know you--that you weren¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t take me in,¡± the boy assured me, his own voice sounding like he was reeling from the revelation of that possibility. ¡°I swear, I¡¯m still me, I remember everything, I haven¡¯t seen anyone like that. Maybe I left before they could come find me, or they didn¡¯t know I was in the building. I mean if they were relying on the security system, I had that under control. Or maybe they knew I was working with you and didn¡¯t want to risk pissing you guys off after everything you did to help with that.¡±


    ¡°Everything we did,¡± I corrected, feeling a rush of relief wash over me. He was okay. They weren¡¯t erasing his memory, or changing¡­ anything about him. He was fine. He was still him, still Eits. Still Ryder.


    Well now I kind of felt embarrassed about panicking like that. But seriously, Eits had been in the school, of course I thought the Ministry might see him as a loose end who knew too much. Feeling a heated blush rise under my mask and helmet, I cleared my throat. ¡°I mean, well, good. I¡­ thanks, Eits. You know, for letting us know what was going on, and for sticking around long enough to help. That¡¯s--um, you¡¯re the only reason this whole situation didn¡¯t end up being a hell of a lot worse.  If you hadn¡¯t been in there, if you hadn¡¯t--¡± My voice caught again and I winced. ¡°If the plan went the way those fucks wanted it to, we would¡¯ve been caught completely flatfooted. They would¡¯ve had hostages and we would¡¯ve had to¡­¡± We would¡¯ve had to give them Pittman, because there was no way we could¡¯ve let those people die. Unless¡­ fuck. I couldn¡¯t think about that, about what would¡¯ve happened if we had to make that choice. I didn¡¯t say anything about that though. All I managed was a weak, ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you later. I promise, I¡¯ll explain more.¡±


    Again, Ryder hesitated before replying, ¡°Thanks, uh, for that and for checking on me. Even if you did just about give me a heart attack.¡± He lightly teased me with that before sobering as he added, ¡°But seriously, a um, an explanation for what the hell all that was about sounds good. You know, when you get a chance. Just¡­ just be careful.¡±


    I promised to do so, then disconnected before fully slumping against the alley wall with a heavy sigh. ¡°He¡¯s okay, they didn¡¯t take him. They¡¯re not trying to¡­ trying to¡­¡±


    ¡°Erase his memory?¡± That was Paige, annoyance in her voice. Yeah, she probably had her own issues with that concept after her father had reprogrammed her. And, well, after my memory had been adjusted to remove her from it. ¡°That¡¯s what they¡¯re doing with all the people who were in there, erasing their memories like nothing happened.¡±


    ¡°Is it really that surprising?¡± Sierra pointed out with a visible shrug. ¡°They want to keep things under control, especially in that place. That¡¯s Cassidy¡¯s school. There¡¯s no way they¡¯d risk letting it look like someone could just walk in there and take prisoners. They¡¯ll do whatever it takes to maintain even an illusion of perfect security. Which means making sure the people who were in there can¡¯t talk or even think about how they were held hostage like that. And they sure as hell aren¡¯t going to let the regular cops take the Biolems to be examined. Do you have any idea what sort of absurd panic that might start if word about those got out for regular people to find out about? I mean, word about us.¡±


    She was right, I realized with a heavy sigh. Of course she was. The Ministry couldn¡¯t risk allowing any of that to get out. They had to keep it quiet, especially right now, with everything as on edge as it was. They didn¡¯t even have my parents to help out, so of course they weren¡¯t going to risk allowing that sort of information to become public. It really would create a panic about who could possibly have been replaced as a Biolem. And considering just how much the city was teetering already, a general panic like that probably would¡¯ve tipped it over into complete chaos the likes of which no one would¡¯ve been able to control. Naturally they would¡¯ve wanted to stop that.


    But to be honest, none of that realization made me feel better about the idea that they were erasing peoples¡¯ memories. No. Not at all. They could¡¯ve done other things to convince them to be quiet about it. They could¡¯ve talked to them, paid them, whatever they needed to do to tell the people that revealing the whole hostage situation would hurt the city. They could¡¯ve done other things besides violate their memories. I wasn¡¯t okay with that. I couldn¡¯t be okay with that. Not after everything that had happened to my own mind. It was wrong. They were wrong, no matter their reasoning.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Unfortunately, we also couldn¡¯t do anything about it right now. Some part of me was tempted to call the Ministry up and threaten them into releasing those people with their memories intact. But what could we threaten them with, exactly? It wasn¡¯t as though we could say we wouldn¡¯t send them that proof about Amanda. We all needed her to be dealt with so all the Sleeptalk victims could be cured before things got even worse, and they knew it. Which was a thought that made me realize something else.


    ¡°Oh fuck me,¡± I abruptly blurted. ¡°They have the Biolems and the people working with them. Which means they¡¯re gonna find out we have Pittman. It¡¯s only a matter of time before they get that much out of those guys. They have to know something is going on with that, so they¡¯ll probably believe it as soon as the subject comes up.¡±


    The others took a moment to process that realization, that the Ministry was definitely going to find out what we had been up to and where our information came from. Peyton muttered a few curse words under her breath before looking over at me. ¡°You know as soon as they find out, they''ll want us to hand him over. He''s too dangerous to them. They won''t want to risk anyone else having the bastard.¡±


    Paige nodded. ¡°They''ll probably be firm but somewhat polite at first. Maybe even complementary about how we managed to get him. But if we don''t give him to them, they won''t take it very well. The kid is good, but I really don''t think even she can set that place up well enough to stop a determined incursion by the Ministry.¡±


    Grimacing at the thought, I replied, ¡°Yeah, we don''t want to go to war with them. Especially not right now. We can''t risk something like that. So, when they ask about it, I don''t think we have any choice. We probably have to hand him over.¡± Even as I said that, my gaze moved to Paige. ¡°But you know when they get their hands on him, they''re going to get information. Whether he gives it to them willingly just to try to screw us over, or they have to play rough, they''ll get it.¡±


    Sierra was the one who put voice to what I left unsaid. ¡°Yeah, and that means they¡¯ll find out about us. They¡¯ll find out Paige is a Biolem and that I¡­ Fuck, he might just tell them what I look like under here. After all, he''s figured out which body I''m using. I''m pretty sure they won''t take that very well.¡± She added that last part in a dry tone.


    Paige, however, shook her head while I was busy panicking over that possibility. ¡°He won''t tell them about the last part, about what Sierra looks like.¡± When we all looked at her, she continued. ¡°He always thinks he''s going to come out ahead. There''s no way he would risk losing the chance to trick your parents with a fake version of you. If he tells the Ministry what she looks like, he won''t be able to use that later. I mean, your parents are too out of it right now to even be affected, so he definitely won¡¯t waste the chance he has to gloat about it if nothing else. He''s too arrogant to believe he won''t find a way out of this. He''ll want to keep that back so he can still replace you with her as soon as he''s back in control.¡±


    Okay¡­ okay, she had a point. For the second time in the past few minutes, I had to calm down my panicking heart. Eits was okay, and Pittman probably wouldn''t risk exposing what body Sierra was using. Taking in a few long, deep breaths, I exhaled slowly before painting a smile on my helmet. ¡°Right, so this whole situation could be a hell of a lot worse. At least we can count on his arrogance to save us from the worst case scenario.¡±


    Peyton offered a simple, ¡°I mean, besides, from what you said, that guy hates the Ministry even more than us. He doesn''t know who you are, remember? So as far as he''s concerned, all his hatred is pointed straight at those guys. He''s not going to want to give them any extra information just to hurt us.¡±


    Yeah, that was another fair point. He hated my family more than anything else, and since he didn''t know who I was under this mask, he would have no idea that exposing our secrets would be hurting my family as well. He''d want to keep that particular nugget for a better time.


    I was still processing when Sierra pointed out, ¡°You know, there''s always a more permanent way we can make sure he doesn''t say anything. And, well, stop him from ever doing anything else to hurt anyone at all.¡±


    I knew exactly what she was getting at, but shook my head. ¡°We can''t-- I mean I don''t want to be that sort of group. I know he deserves it. I know it would make everything easier. I know all of that. But I just can''t¡­ I just can''t let us be like that. And yes, I know that sounds dumb. It''s just¡­ I have to hold onto something right now. And that something is that we aren''t executing prisoners. No matter how much easier that would make everything.¡±


    We were all silent after that for a minute, lost in our own thoughts. I was pretty sure the discussion over what to do with Pittman wasn¡¯t actually over yet. Finally, Paige cleared her throat. ¡°We should get back. We already let them know that the situation was handled, but they''d probably like to hear it in person.¡±


    That made me do a double take from realization. ¡°Oh, shit, what about those guys who were watching the place?¡±


    Sierra was the one who replied, ¡°They booked it as soon as things went down over here. I guess when they lost contact with the others, they knew the situation was fucked. So they disappeared. Which means there''s still guys there who could cause problems.¡±


    ¡°Still,¡± Paige pointed out, ¡°we should probably get back there and check out the areas they were in just in case they might''ve left something we could use. I mean, it''s not very likely, but you never know.¡±


    So, we made our way back to Wren¡¯s place and checked in with the others on the way. Sure enough, they had already gone out to look around after the watchers left, but found nothing important. Still, Paige and Sierra went to do their own more in-depth investigation once we were back, while Peyton and I went into the shop to give the others the full story.


    Needless to say, they were more than a little freaked out about what Z had been able to do. And who could blame them? I still wasn''t sure how that had worked. She killed all those people just like that. They hadn¡¯t even known anything was about to happen before it was over. It wasn¡¯t a fight, it was a slaughter. If she was that dangerous, no wonder the Ministry used her as a final solution for their problems. If she was sent after us, was there even anything we could do about it? That was a sobering thought, and one none of us liked having. But it also made it even more clear that we couldn''t risk having an open conflict with the Ministry. When they demanded we hand over Pittman, we were probably going to have to do that. It didn¡¯t seem like there was any other choice. At least, not one that would end well.


    But at least we had fulfilled our promise to send the proof about Amanda Sanvers being behind Sleeptalk. I trusted the Ministry to be able to do something with that. After all, they were pretty motivated to want to get that cure. In that case, we all wanted the same thing.


    Once Paige and Sierra got back (they hadn''t found anything we could use), Fred spoke up. ¡°You know, I really don''t like the idea of that piece of garbage staying in the workshop any longer than he has to. And I especially don''t like the idea that he''s still got people out there who might try to take a run at this place. Sure, they backed off for now, but what if they decide to try again?¡±


    Wren piped up. ¡°Don''t worry Uncle Fred, we''ve got protection.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°That''s right, and that protection includes me. I¡¯m not leaving you guys alone while he''s here. I''ll just leave a message at home that I¡¯m staying over with a friend. Simon¡¯s so busy right now I doubt he''ll care.¡± And, of course, Izzy would be able to cover for me.


    That, of course, reminded me that I needed to check in with her. So I took my phone and walked outside into the alley for a minute to catch her up on everything. Needless to say, she freaked out a bit. But I convinced her I would get into all of it later in person, and that things were basically okay. She promised to talk to Amber, and made a deal for all three of us to meet up. In the meantime, she would help make sure things were calm back home.


    With that done, I walked back into the shop just in time for Paige to announce, ¡°Okay, so now everyone important has the proof about Amanda, which means dealing with her is up to them.¡± She looked over at me. ¡°So, what now?¡±


    Honestly, what I really wanted to do was fall over right where I was and sleep for about a week. It had been a very long day. I wasn''t even sure I was thinking straight in that moment.


    But instead of crashing, I replied, ¡°We make sure this place is ready just in case those guys decide to make a run at us tonight. I know we''re all exhausted, but we can''t risk letting our guard down. No more surprises. We can''t let anyone sneak in here. We need¡­ we need something they won¡¯t expect, something they won¡¯t be able to easily bypass or sneak around.¡±


    ¡°Um, excuse me?¡± The stuffed rabbit sitting on the nearby shelf raised a paw.


    ¡°I think we have a solution for that.¡±

 Solution 30-17

    Well, needless to say, I freaked out at that, practically jumping out of my skin with an audible yelp and curse. Around me, the others reacted much the same way the instant the stuffed rabbit started talking. Or rather, most of them did. Paige and Sierra were two notable exceptions. Oh, they reacted in surprise, for sure. But it wasn''t when the toy suddenly spoke. They gave absolutely no reaction to that, only jumping after the rest of us yelped. It was like they hadn¡¯t even heard the very thing we were reacting to.


    ¡°What?!¡± Paige demanded while turning in a quick circle. She had one hand up defensively while the other stretched out to cover me with her arm as though trying to block anyone from getting to me. Her eyes were scanning everywhere in the room, but she wasn''t even glancing at the rabbit toy. ¡°What did you hear? I can¡¯t--Sierra?¡±


    Before I could even start to ask what the hell she meant by that, the other Biolem girl put in, ¡°Nope, I''ve got nothing. Cameras show everything clear. There''s no one out there. It¡¯s all quiet, no intruders, no nothing. Maybe it¡¯s in their heads?¡±


    Fred was the one who found his voice first while the rest of us were all sputtering and looking back-and-forth between them. ¡°Have you both lost your freaking minds?!¡± He pointed right at the thing in question. ¡°That toy rabbit just talked!¡±


    The rabbit itself tilted its head and looked at us. It was a little blue thing, about a foot tall, with a levi jacket, shorts, and a baseball cap with holes for its floppy ears to stick up through. Which made it a perfect re-creation of Aspen, one of those Cuddle Corps Minority kids from Ohio, the ones who had possessed stuffed animals or whatever. They had plenty of merchandise all over the world because of how cute they were. But these ones were even better recreations than usual. Even better¡­ waaaaaait¡­.


    Paige and Sierra had both turned their attentions back to the toy, which stared right back at them. They looked directly at the spot Fred had indicated for almost three full seconds of silence. Then spoke together in unison. ¡°What toy rabbit?¡±


    The toy itself, which I was very quickly realizing wasn''t a toy at all, piped up again. ¡°Uhhhh, Oak?¡±


    That was when another voice spoke up, as a two-foot tall stuffed turtle in a tweed suit and glasses raised his little hand from one of the other shelves. ¡°Ah, I believe the issue is their--what was the term-- Biolem nature?¡± Once again, Paige and Sierra showed no reaction to that until the rest of us spun to stare that way.


    ¡°Wait, wait wait, are you guys--what the fu--udge--¡± Peyton corrected herself in mid-sentence with a glance toward Wren, ¡°Are you the actual real life Cuddle Corps?!¡±


    Sierra looked between the spot where the rabbit was and the spot where the turtle was, her gaze completely blank. ¡°Okay, something is getting into your heads, people. It''s making you see things that aren''t there. Maybe it''s a gas or something, I don''t know. But we need to get out of this place and into some fresh air." Even as she said that, the girl reached out to take Murphy and Roald by the arms as though to pull them outside herself. ¡°Paige, are you sure there¡¯s nothing in the air conditioning?¡±


    Peyton and I were in the midst of telling them both to stop, while Fred and Wren both babbled at each other about where the stuffed animals had come from, and Murphy and Roald were trying to tell Sierra to let them go. Qwerty, meanwhile, bounced back and forth, jabbering a mix of greetings and questions to the whole group. It was all a jumbled mess until a piercing whistle filled the room. Another of the Cuddle Corps, this one a green monkey in a cowboy outfit, was standing on top of one of the shelving units, near the ceiling. She had put two fingers in her mouth to whistle like that, getting everyone''s attention. In this case, that included the two Biolems. They jumped just as much as we did. ¡°Oy!¡± she shouted, ¡°Turn off your stealth already, numbbutts! That¡¯s why they can¡¯t see you!¡±


    Paige and Sierra were gaping that way, before abruptly spinning around to look at the rabbit and turtle. Now they could clearly see and hear them. Almost immediately after that, those three were joined by a little penguin with a snowboard strapped to her back, and a tiny yellow duckling, both of whom pulled themselves out of one of the piles of other toys. Or rather, actual toys. Finally, a little red dragon figure poked his way into view on top of one of the other shelving units across the room.


    ¡°Wha-what? What?!¡± Paige raised her voice, pointing that way while looking completely taken aback. ¡°How are--you weren¡¯t--that¡¯s not--what?¡± Beside her, Sierra didn¡¯t look any less baffled. Both of them were obviously reeling even more than the rest of us. Which made sense, if they really hadn¡¯t even seen them until just now.


    The rabbit raised her paws. ¡°We''re sorry! We''re sorry, we can explain. Well, some of it we can explain easier than the rest. Um, hi. I''m Aspen. That¡¯s Oak, Maple, Willow, Cherry, and Ash.¡± She indicated the turtle, monkey, penguin, duck, and dragon in succession. ¡°Uh, as you guys might have, umm¡­ guessed, we''re the really real thing, not toys. We''re really them. See?¡± With that, she was abruptly gone from that spot. Not invisible, but a blur of motion that went from there all the way across the room, up the far wall, and across the ceiling before stopping right in the middle to look down at us. ¡°Hi!¡± She waved with both paws. ¡°Ummmm, it¡¯s nice to meet you, officially and all?¡± Her voice sounded both awkward and apologetic, squirming self-consciously as she stood upside down on the ceiling.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve got so many questions,¡± Sierra snapped as she looked around at all of them. ¡°But first, why couldn¡¯t we see or hear you until now?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re robots!¡± The dragon, Ash, announced while flinging himself off that shelving unit to fly around in a circle over our heads. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta be.¡±


    ¡°Biolem, I believe, is the preferred term,¡± Oak, the turtle, put in thoughtfully. ¡°Either way, your senses possess a technological component. You see, as most Touched do, we possess a secondary ability, less obvious than those we utilize openly in our day-to-day activities for public consumption. Maintaining the secret of this gift has always allowed us something of an advantage against those who--¡±


    He was interrupted by the penguin, Willow, who blurted, ¡°We can turn invisible to technology! Just spit it out, dude.¡± She took the snowboard off her back, stepped on it, then hovered right up in the air in front of us. ¡°Cameras, alarms, sensors, anything like that, it can¡¯t detect us. Living people and animals can, but not uh, not tech stuff.¡±


    Cherry, the duck, bobbed her tiny head. ¡°It¡¯s s¡¯posed to be like how toys can secretly move around without getting caught on cameras ¡®n stuff! Mister Imens didna like us using it cuz he always wanted the cameras to see us!¡±


    ¡°And because exposing our ability to become invisible to technology would have taken away one of our major advantages,¡± Oak pointed out mildly.


    That was a hell of a lot to take in, and we had barely started. All of us stared that way for several long seconds while they stared right back at us. Finally, I raised my hand before slowly speaking up. ¡°Ooookay, maybe we should start from the beginning? Where did you guys come from? How long have you been here? Why are you here? What do you want? Wait, are you working for the Minority? Are you--did you transfer? What did they--how¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡± Even as I started blurting out those questions, I felt a rush of fear. Obviously, they already knew far too much. They''d been here long enough to find out¡­ well, basically everything. They had to have seen me without my mask, along with the others. They¡¯d heard me called by name, they knew we had Pittman upstairs, they¡¯d heard us talk about the Ministry, they knew everything. It was a staggering thought. I was trying very hard not to have a complete meltdown right then. Actually, to be perfectly honest, the shock of the whole situation was probably the only thing stopping me from losing my mind completely.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Aspen agreed, hopping down from the ceiling to land on a nearby shelf. ¡°We¡¯ll tell you everything. Why we''re here, how we got here, all of it. But I, um, think the first thing we should say is that we''re not gonna tell anybody about your secrets.¡± All six of them held up their paws (or wing, in Cherry¡¯s case) before intoning, ¡°We promise!¡±


    Oak spoke next. ¡°You have undoubtedly come to understand just how many secrets we have inadvertently acquired during our short stay here. It was not our intention to spy quite so effectively, and as we have just sworn, we also have no intention of using those secrets against you. Regardless of how these next few minutes play out.¡±


    Qwerty, apparently unable to hold himself back any longer, took a running jump and extended his wings to glide over and land against one of the counters nearest where Ash had landed. ¡°Hey, you can fly! How did you do that?!¡± His head snapped back and forth between the stuffed dragon and the spot where Willow was still hovering on her board. ¡°Can you guys teach me how to fly?¡±


    Wincing, I cleared my throat. ¡°Uh, maybe we should focus on finding out what these guys are doing here before getting into anything else.¡± I exchanged a glance with Paige, who still looked completely taken aback by this entire situation. I was pretty sure she was silently screaming in her head about the fact that these guys had been here for so long and found out so much without her having the slightest idea. It was a staggeringly sobering thought.


    Fred found his voice, actually managing to sound like he knew what he was doing at that moment. ¡°Okay, let''s do this right, then. Everybody find a chair and sit the heck down. We''re all gonna stop jumping and flying around for a few minutes, and just sit together so we can get on the same page. You say you aren¡¯t about to go blabbing about the secrets you found out in here, but we still don¡¯t even know how you got here or anything else. You¡¯re the real deal Cuddle Corps? Like the ones from Ohio?¡± Belatedly realizing he had contradicted his own request, the man shook his head. ¡°Never mind! Chairs, sitting, talking, all together now!¡± Even as he said that, Fred was already walking around to grab random chairs, shoving them together into a circle in the middle of the main shop floor. ¡°Everybody siddown already!¡±


    Well, how were we supposed to argue with that? He had a point, the only way we were going to get anywhere with us was to sit and talk it out properly. So, we did just that. Soon, we were all gathered in that circle of chairs. The Cuddle Corps were sharing one together, all sort of piled up in a group at the top of the circle with the main counter behind them, while the rest of us were spread out along the rest of the circle around them. I was doing my absolute best to sit quietly with my hands tightly gripping the armrests rather than grabbing onto the living stuffed animals and shaking them. I wanted to start shouting question after question at them, but kept it under control. They were going to tell us everything, I just had to be patient. Even if my stomach was busy getting itself into a boxing match with my heart. This was terrifying, just knowing these guys had found out so much so easily. If they did want to expose us, what¡­ what could we even do?


    No, Cassidy, calm down. Breathe. Keep it together. Just focus on listening right now. These guys had intentionally revealed themselves when they didn¡¯t have to. And it didn¡¯t sound like they were interested in threatening us or anything. They just wanted to talk. Besides, they were part of the Ohio Minority, and everything I¡¯d seen about them made the group look¡­ well, adorable and fun.


    On the other hand, maybe judging them based on what the media showed was a bad idea. After all, they weren¡¯t even supposed to be in Detroit, so how did they manage that? And why?


    ¡°Are you guys really--¡± I started before catching myself and giving a long sigh. ¡°Okay, I suppose asking if you¡¯re the real deal probably sounds pretty stupid. There¡¯s not a lot of living stuffed animal Touched out there, let alone ones that look exactly like you. But we¡¯re sort of dealing with a guy who makes living duplicate bodies of people, so it¡¯s not completely out of the question that he could¡¯ve made some of you and found a way to duplicate certain abilities. Like moving quickly and standing on the ceiling. I can stand on the ceiling with these boots.¡±


    The rabbit, Aspen, exchanged a glance with her partners before visibly grimacing. Which was a wild thing to see a stuffed toy do. ¡°Yeah¡­ we uhh, sorta overheard plenty about that. But it¡¯s really us, we swear. See, watch.¡± She took an audible breath (and yes that was even more wild to see) before jumping off the chair. In mid-leap, her body fucking exploded. It was like she¡¯d been shot by a massive sniper rifle or something. One second she was right in front of us, and the next, fucking poof, she was nothing but bits of fluff drifting through the air.


    Yeah, that uhh, that caused a reaction. But even as our entire group started to jump up, shouts filling the room, Aspen was suddenly back. She reappeared right where she had been on the chair with the other living toys. ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± She waved both paws wildly for our attention. ¡°See? All good! Sorry, uh, that was probably kinda dramatic.¡±


    Fred, who had stood up so fast his chair fell over with a loud clang, stared while making a slight groaning sound in the back of his throat. ¡°Kinda?¡± His voice was weak.


    ¡°Hey, the point is, we¡¯re not your¡­. whatta they call them again?¡± The dragon, Ash, was pacing back and forth along the top of the chair they were all sitting in.


    ¡°Biolems,¡± Oak the turtle noted, giving me a somewhat appraising look. ¡°And while over the top, my sister¡¯s demonstration was intended to show that we are not they. Whatever abilities your Benjamin Pittman might be able to bestow upon his creations, it is rather doubtful that he would be capable of making them reconstitute in full after--¡±


    ¡°Fluffinating,¡± Willow the penguin finished, giving us a wide smile before ducking a bit behind her snowboard. ¡°That¡¯s what we call it.¡±


    The others were all looking at me, and I tried to sound somewhat collected despite the fact that I still had about seventeen different voices screaming conflicting things in my head. ¡°I--um, yeah, I don¡¯t think he can do that.¡± Amanda might be able to though, I thought but didn¡¯t say. This didn¡¯t seem like something she would do. If she was going to make fake people to fuck with us, it probably wouldn¡¯t be random Touched from a completely different state.


    Aspen bobbed her head quickly, long ears bouncing with the motion. ¡°Right, so it¡¯s really us. We umm, we ran away from home. We didn¡¯t wanna be their trophy pets to parade around in front of the cameras anymore!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Ash put in, breathing a quick little burst of fire in his obvious annoyance. ¡°They never leave us alone, we always hafeta go to all their parties. And they¡¯re not even fun parties! They¡¯re boring! Everyone always has to pick us up and squeeze us and take pictures with us and talk like we¡¯re not even real. They act like we belong to them or something.¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Oak cleared his throat before adding, ¡°What we are attempting to articulate is that, in the wake of our parents leaving us in the custody of the state, our¡­ and I use this word in full irony, ¡®caretaker¡¯ sought almost exclusively to further his own career goals and ambitions. We were used as little more than tools to such an end. When not working official Minority training and missions or attending the required schooling, every moment of our free time was spent as props.¡±


    ¡°They used us,¡± Willow murmured quietly. ¡°¡®Come to this event and see the living toy freaks, oh and donate to this cause or this politician or this police group while you¡¯re here.¡¯ Publically stunts.¡±


    Oak gently corrected, ¡°Publicity stunts. But yes, that is the gist of it. We chose to leave an environment which was unsuitable for us. We were offered no privacy, no free time, no true friends there. We were treated not as the living people we are, but as the toys we appear to be.¡±


    ¡°We tried to rob a bank,¡± Aspen admitted. ¡°You know, so people would think we were bad and stop wanting to see us all the time. But it umm¡­ it didn¡¯t work.¡± She sounded embarrassed, squirming a little before adding, ¡°So we left. We wanted to come to Detroit cuz you guys are all locked up so they can¡¯t come get us. It¡¯s easier to hide. And now--¡±


    Cherry, the little duckling, jumped up and down at the edge of the chair, those tiny wings flapping a few times as she interrupted. ¡°We wanna help! We wanna protect this place! We¡¯re really good at hiding, cuz if you don¡¯t know we¡¯re the real thing, everyone just thinks we¡¯re toys of ourselves. So we can be your secret security!¡± She flexed her wings. ¡°I¡¯ll be the bouncer! They¡¯ll never see it comin¡¯!¡±


    ¡°Security?¡± That was Wren, the kid sounding as dazed as I felt. Qwerty was perched in her lap. ¡°Y-you¡­ you wanna stay here?¡±


    Even as all of them started to blurt a chorus of confirmations and pleas, I held up both hands. ¡°Wait, wait, before we get anywhere with that, how did you guys get here? I mean, you left Ohio--how did you even get to Detroit to start with? And how did that lead you to this place specifically?¡±


    Our visitors all looked at each other once more, before Oak started. ¡°Very well. We shall tell the tale of our journey to this shop.


    ¡°It begins, as more very important stories should¡­ with tacos.¡±

 Interlude 30A - The Cuddle Corps

    The sound of noisy crunching filled the back of the restaurant as six small stuffed animals perched on a couple different tables, enjoying the meal they had spent the past several minutes fixing up. Although it was daytime, the restaurant was closed. They were a small enough business that having any days off meant shutting the place down entirely. But that worked for the Corps, who couldn''t wait until night time to eat. The lights in the place were almost all out, save for one in the nearby kitchen where the group had pieced their meal together before bringing it out here to enjoy properly. The sound of a radio that one of them had found near the front counter gave the room a little proper ambience, playing lively Mexican music.


    ¡°So delicious!¡± Cherry, the duckling, announced cheerfully. She had broken up her own taco shell across her plate into a bunch of small, crunchy pieces mixed in with the lettuce, tomato, cheese, meat, beans, and salsa. it was more like a salad for her. A salad she was pecking at with her beak in between taking sips of water from a nearby cup. Every once in a while, she would bounce up and down and flap her wings with delight while making cooing sounds.


    Willow, the penguin, sat next to her with a regular taco held up between her own two wings as she happily chomped down on it repeatedly. ¡°Mmmhmm! This was a good choice! We make good tacos!¡± Setting the food down, she picked up a bottle of hot sauce and added some to it before going back to eating. Small noises of delight escaped her, as she wiggled back and forth. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s how we should make money! We can be taco makers. Or just cooks. We could totally do that!¡±


    Ash the dragon, seated on the other side of her, grabbed the hot sauce with his two front paws and poured a much more generous helping on his own taco. He liked hot sauce the most amongst all of them, claiming that it made his fire hotter. None of them were sure if that was true or not, but it seemed to make him feel better at least. ¡°But our tacos are only this good cuz we had really good supplies. We¡¯d have to buy more like this. You know, like from their supplier.¡± He got that much out before taking another big bite of his spicy meal, then sent a short burst of flame in the air.


    Those were the three who were seated on that table. The other three, Oak the turtle, Aspen the bunny, and Maple the monkey, were seated across from them on top of the other one. They each had their own tacos to enjoy. At that point, Aspen gave a hurried nod. ¡°Uh huh, but not here. We¡¯ve gotta go to Detroit, so they can¡¯t bring us back. Maybe we can be cooks there! We¡¯ve gotta make a living.¡± She added that part sagely before taking a drink of her soda through the straw. ¡°We don¡¯t wanna be mooches.¡±


    ¡°Ah, weren¡¯t we planning to be criminals?¡± Maple pointed out curiously. ¡°We tried to rob that bank. I thought we were gonna try that again in our new home where they don¡¯t know us so much so they¡¯ll actually listen when we say to give us all the money.¡±


    ¡°You mean ¡®so well,¡¯ not ¡®so much,¡± Oak corrected before nodding slowly, his voice thoughtful. ¡°And yes, of course, we can play the devious criminals now and then, for fun and so they understand we are not going to be dragged right back to Mister Imens again.¡± They all shuddered at the idea of being paraded around as his trophies again. No, absolutely not. They would not go back to that. They would not allow themselves to be used like that anymore. They were people. Odd people, maybe, but people. They weren¡¯t props for his career. Or anyone¡¯s career. They didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone, but robbing a bank would make everyone understand they weren¡¯t gonna let themselves be used like that.


    Aspen took a big bite, finishing her first taco. One of the first things people wondered about the so-called Cuddle Corps was if and how they were able to eat, and what happened to the food when they did. In truth, they weren''t sure how it worked exactly, but they did eat. The food they took in disappeared after they swallowed, transforming into energy they used just like anyone else. Well, maybe not just like. They didn''t have stomachs or anything. The food simply disintegrated and became energy. But it was close enough.


    Raising both paws, Aspen announced, ¡°We''ll see what kind of criminals we have to be when we get there. Whatever we do, I don''t wanna hurt people. Not really. Maybe just scare them a little bit? Just so they take us seriously and stop trying to grab us all the time.¡± They were all tired of every single person who talked to them simply grabbing on, picking them up, squeezing them, acting like they were toys. They may have looked like toys, but they were people. Real people. Everyone always acted like they could paw at them, drag them around, do whatever they wanted without permission. And Mister Imens let it happen.


    They used to like hugs. But now they just wanted people to stop touching them so much. Or at least ask first. And take no for an answer. Every time they tried to say no, people just acted like they were joking. It was exhausting.


    Willow was nodding. ¡°Yeah, we don¡¯t gotta really hurt people, just make them leave us alone. I uhh¡­ I don¡¯t even mind helping sometimes.¡± She added that last bit in a conspiratorial whisper, as though feeling guilty about the admission. ¡°You know, if people really need it. I just¡­ umm¡­ don¡¯t want¡­¡± She hesitated, searching for the right words.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want them to think they own us!¡± That was Cherry, jumping up and down on her webbed feet while flapping those little wings agitatedly. ¡°We¡¯re our own people. If we wanna help, we will. But we¡¯re not their toys. We¡¯re not toys at all! It¡¯s our choice!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Ash agreed, giving another short burst of flame for emphasis. ¡°Sometimes we¡¯ll rob a bank. Sometimes we¡¯ll save people. Whatever we do, it¡¯s cuz we wanna! Not cuz they told us to. And if they don¡¯t stop grabbing us without permission--¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll freeze ¡®em!¡± Willow blurted, sending a burst of cold through the air.


    They all giggled at that, before Aspen focused on the turtle next to her. ¡°Oak, how far are we from Detroit now?¡±


    ¡°Two more trips,¡± he informed them simply. ¡°We sneak onto the food supply truck that should be here in¡­¡± He leaned over to stare at the clock on the nearby wall, ¡°... two hours, then ride it back to its warehouse. After that, we''ll have to sneak out of the place where the truck parks and go¡­ six blocks. There¡¯s a truck stop there, and we can sneak aboard one of the ones that¡¯s going to deliver supplies into the city. We should be within the quarantine in twelve hours.¡±


    They were all celebrating how close they finally were, and how effectively they had managed to stay out of sight, when Willow blurted, ¡°Hey, a car just pulled in!¡± She pointed to the vehicle in question, prompting the whole group to stare that way for a moment. The restaurant was closed for the entire day, there shouldn''t be anyone here.


    ¡°Join up!¡± Aspen quickly called. As soon as she did, all six stuffed animals transformed into beams of light, joining up together into a single combined figure consisting of an enlarged version of Willow¡¯s penguin body, Maple¡¯s monkey arms and tail, Oak¡¯s turtle shell, Aspen¡¯s rabbit legs and feet, Cherry¡¯s duck head, and Ash¡¯s dragon wings. When they were all together like this, in the form they referred to as Cuddle Commander, they stood about five feet tall.


    As the Commander, they quickly grabbed their plates and dumped them in the trash, then ran on quick padded rabbit feet before the dragon wings lifted them off the floor to move even faster. The restroom was close, so they raced that way, barely remembering to hit the button on the radio on their way past to turn it off.


    Just as whoever it was reached the front entrance and began to work at the lock, they passed into the restroom and hid there. After letting the door close behind them, they cracked it open an inch with the light off and peeked out.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The men coming into the restaurant definitely didn''t look like employees. They were dressed all in black, though they weren''t wearing masks. There were three of them, and they also weren''t using a key. The Cuddle Corps had been doing this hero thing long enough to recognize lockpicks. They were quiet as the three men walked in and turned on the main lights. They didn''t seem to care about anyone from the street noticing anything untoward.


    ¡°How far is it to the quarantine blockade?¡± one of the men asked. It was a question that made the combined form of the Cuddles straighten up a little bit. The quarantine blockade? That had to be referring to Detroit. Were these guys going there too? It was pretty weird for two different sets of dastardly criminals to break into the same random restaurant just before moving on to Detroit. Maybe they were really hungry too. This place did have really good tacos after all.


    One of the other newly arrived men answered, ¡°Just an hour away. So get in the back there and grab everything. Get all the food. I''ll wipe their security footage while you guys get the truck loaded. We need to look like we''re just delivering the next round of supplies. We pull up to those guards with a truck full of food and they won''t even look at us twice.¡±


    The men split up to work on that, while the Cuddle Commander hunched down lower and stared through the crack in the door. Unfortunately, within a few minutes of that, the two men who had been carrying boxes of food out of the restaurant turned and headed right for that same restroom. Immediately, the Corps split apart into their individual selves once more before running away from the door to hide. Aspen ran up the wall onto the ceiling, hiding herself behind a large light fixture. Ash flew up and clung to the far side of a fan structure that blocked the view from the floor. Oak scurried into one of the stalls at the far end and crouched behind the toilet. Maple opened the small cupboard beneath the sink where extra toilet paper was kept and tugged it closed after her. Finally, Cherry and Willow dove into the trash can near that same sink, covering themselves with paper towels just as the door opened and the men came through. The lights came on right as the six living stuffed animals had just barely managed to hide themselves.


    The men headed for the urinals, while one of them announced, ¡°I dunno, taking jobs from those Breakwater creeps seems a little iffy to me. Like, we¡¯re working for the people who keep supervillains in prison now? What¡¯s next, pulling a bank heist for the sheriff¡¯s department?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised,¡± the other man retorted with a laugh. ¡°But like I said, it''s a simple fucking job. And they''re paying out the ass for it. All we gotta do is grab this kid and get out with her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± the first man snapped, ¡°just grab this Tech-Touched kid. Easy peasy, are you an idiot? They¡¯re paying out the ass for it because this is idiotic. You really think it¡¯s gonna be that easy to take a Tech-Touched, even if she is a little girl?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be careful,¡± his partner insisted. ¡°Look, it¡¯s not gonna be as big of a deal as you¡¯re making it sound. We wait for a shot at the girl, grab her, and go before anyone even knows anything¡¯s going on. She''ll be bundled up safe and secure in the back of the truck, hidden from any of their scans. The Breakwater peeps promised no one would be able to detect anybody in that compartment. As soon as we¡¯ve got her out of the city, they¡¯ll come and take her off our hands.¡±


    Washing up at the sink, the other man sighed. ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m supposed to feel okay about handing over a little kid to those guys? They gave me the creeps.¡±


    ¡°Oh come on, you¡¯re being a fucking baby,¡± his friend scoffed. ¡°They ain¡¯t gonna hurt her. Hell, they might hire her on to consult for them if this works out. That kid won¡¯t ever get a better chance at some real cash. Without that teleport machine that got snatched right out from under their noses, the kid¡¯s the best chance they¡¯ve got at figuring out how those two got transported onto their island.¡±


    Shaking his head while drying his hands off, the other man asked, ¡°You really think she¡¯s responsible for it? Some kid managed to build something that could break through all their defenses and drop those two off right in the middle of their super-secure island?¡±


    His partner shrugged. ¡°Who the fuck knows? But she¡¯s from the same city he was arrested in and where those two came from. They think he¡¯s still got contacts there. Maybe one of them paid this Trevithick kid to build the teleporter. Either way, she¡¯s the expert in transportation tech. Even if she didn¡¯t build it, she¡¯s still their best chance at finding a way to block it. So we grab her and hand the kid off. Then we take a nice long island vacation with that pile of money they offered. And stop feeling guilty about it. They ain¡¯t gonna hurt the kid. They''ll keep her nice and happy. She''ll probably end up getting paid better than we are.¡±


    With that, the two men headed out to get back to work loading the food. Once they were done, the Cuddle Corps all rose from their hiding places and stared at one another. A moment of silence communication passed between before they all nodded and turned to the door. Very carefully and quietly, they snuck out of the room, watching for any of the men. Once the coast was clear, they raced outside through the propped-open front door, and clambered up into the back of the waiting truck. The original plan was tossed aside. They would hide in this truck and ride it all the way into Detroit. And then¡­ well, then they would make sure these men couldn¡¯t carry out their kidnapping plan.


    After all, they were okay with being bank robbers, but letting a kid like them get abducted? Not on their watch!


    *********


    At the end of a long day of driving, followed by a quick yet exciting few moments when the three men opened the back of the truck upon reaching their destination, the Cuddle Corps stood victorious. Those three men were tied up in the back of their truck, which had been parked in a tow-away zone so the police would find them along with a hand written sign saying they were kidnappers. The tools they were going to use to do that, including handcuffs and drugs to keep their target unconscious, were nearby. Even better, the men hadn¡¯t actually gotten a good enough look at the Corps to realize who was knocking them out before it was too late. Their presence here in Detroit was still a secret.


    Now the group had the address those men had been heading for. It was a pawn shop called Wren¡¯s Nest. They had no idea if those Breakwater people had hired anyone else to abduct her, but they felt it was their duty to check. It wasn''t hard for them to sneak inside with their secret ability to be hidden from any technology, and soon they had placed themselves on the shelves full of other random bits of equipment and toys. A pawnshop was an easy place to hide, especially one with as much random stuff as this one had. They blended in just fine. And any time they needed to move around, the cameras and motion detectors failed to notice anything.


    They had originally planned to only stay long enough to make sure this girl would be safe. Maybe they could leave a note for her to be aware that people were after her and to beef up her defenses. Well, that and to see the girl for themselves. They were really curious about a kid who might be able to make something that could teleport onto Breakwater. That was supposed to be impossible, but if the prison people themselves thought she could¡­


    Of course, whatever their intentions had been, that fell away more and more as they eavesdropped on all of the shocking revelations that kept piling up. It honestly hadn''t been their intention to find out so much, especially all the secret identities and conspiracies. But once they started hearing things they shouldn''t, it was impossible to just sit up and tell these people to stop talking. They had no idea what else to do other than lay there and hear all of it. They found out about this Ministry, the fact that their leader¡¯s daughter was Paintball, who was actually a girl (or maybe not a girl exactly, if what Aspen had heard the others saying at one point was right), about this Pittman guy, the whole Biolem thing, and more and more and more. They just kept overhearing everything.


    And the more they overheard, the more the Cuddle Corps were convinced that this was where they wanted to be. Whatever was going on here, whatever the full story was, this was a place where they could be useful, a place where they could accomplish something real without being seen as props or trophies. But how were they supposed to show themselves? How could they reveal their presence and just explain that they had been spying this whole time? They would have to be very careful, approaching the situation in just the right way, after analyzing it from every possible angle and considering the ramifications of every word.


    Or, alternatively¡­ they could just stand up and start talking.

 Interlude 30B - Jae

    Yawning widely as she sat at the desk in her bedroom listening to music on her headphones so she wouldn''t disturb her stepmother, Kella, Jae Baek drummed her fingers along the wooden surface. Her homework was spread out in front of her, but she wasn''t reading or processing it. She had been staring at the same paragraph for the past several minutes without getting any closer to understanding it properly.


    She knew she needed to buckle down and focus. The school year was almost over, but it wasn''t quite done with yet. She still had finals to get through, and the shit storm that would fly if she screwed that up would be epic indeed. She was the last of the assortment of ethnic kids her father and his original wife had adopted to still live at home, after all the others had gone on to great universities or careers. Failing her junior year of high school would be¡­ bad. Her father and her siblings were all busy with their lives, and she wasn¡¯t going to let them start getting distracted worrying about her. So, the studying continued, no matter how tired she might have been. Time to focus.


    It had been another incredibly long and busy day, trying to keep the city from falling apart. Part of that had been dealing with Oscuro¡¯s attempt to assassinate Amanda Sanvers, but most of it was spent protecting supply trucks from being raided. Several of the small to medium-sized gangs and other opportunists had somehow decided that it would be a great idea to steal supplies being brought into the city and sell them at a high mark up. Why the larger gangs didn''t seem to be getting in on that remained a bit of a mystery. Unless they were just too distracted fighting each other. Or maybe they thought the authorities would be on top of that and didn¡¯t see it as worth the risk. Especially given the way it could turn the public against them.


    But, to be perfectly honest, Jae was just glad they were staying out of the way. Or had been, until Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s group decided to attack that prisoner transport. Amanda Sanvers. They tried to kill Cup, and¡­ and that was a bad thing. It was a bad thing, right? Yes, definitely. Amanda had surrendered, she was a prisoner. They had a responsibility to keep prisoners safe, or the entire system would fall apart.


    It didn¡¯t matter how bad Amanda was, or what terrible things she¡¯d done. She had surrendered, and she had rights. No matter how tempting it was to forget that sometimes. Especially when it was obvious she was planning something. There was no way she had actually been forced to do those things against her will or whatever story she was trying to sell. She was definitely planning something bad.


    And when she inevitably makes her escape, we¡¯ll see her nefarious schemes take shape. Whatever the truth of her sly and shady plot, when all is told she¡¯ll have what she has wrought. She shan¡¯t get away free of scott, when we give her a nice big swat.


    ¡°Free of scott?¡± Jae murmured out loud with a shake of her head as she looked over her shoulder to the bed where the jester¡¯s mask was sitting on the pillow. ¡°Eh, that¡¯s a bit of a stretch to make the rhyme work. I think we can do better than that.¡±


    She won¡¯t get away with her wicked scheme, if we hit her with a two-by-four beam.


    After giggling, Jae groaned. She still hadn¡¯t processed what she was trying to read. Pushing herself up, she stretched and headed for the door. Coffee. She needed coffee if she was going to get this homework done. Maybe then she¡¯d be able to focus.


    After heading downstairs and hearing Kella practicing the lines for her next audition down the hall in the living room, Jae quietly moved to the kitchen and set about making that coffee. No doubt her stepmother would smell it and come searching for her own cup, so she made enough for her as well. Soon, she had a piping hot mug, the scent of which was practically ambrosia on its own. Surely this would help.


    No sooner had she taken a sip, however, than there was a knock at the nearby back door. Jolting just a little in surprise, Jae looked that way, seeing a familiar face there by the glass. It made her blink, before she moved to open the door. ¡°Zed?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget his smarter, cooler twin sister,¡± Lexi, standing a bit further away, put in. Both of the Chambers twins were there on the back porch, giving her a pair of sheepish smiles. ¡°Uh, can we talk for a minute? If you¡¯re not too busy.¡±


    Tilting her head, Jae stared uncertainly at the two of them. ¡°Why are you knocking on the door and skulking in the backyard? You two are living here, remember?¡± The twins had been staying in one of her siblings¡¯ old rooms since the quarantine had resulted in them being stranded away from their parents. She¡¯d thought they were asleep in there.


    Lexi looked even more sheepish than before, kicking her foot lightly against the deck. ¡°We, uh, went out for a bit. Then we came to find you and you were in the kitchen and we didn¡¯t want to startle you by opening the door and walking right in. You know, after the days you¡¯ve been having.¡±


    Her brother¡¯s head bobbed in a quick nod. ¡°I mean, knocking on the back door and scaring the shit out of you that way probably wasn¡¯t much better, but it sounded good at the time.¡±


    ¡°And we kinda wanted to make sure Kella wasn¡¯t around before we talk,¡± Lexi put in.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Zed added while peering past her. ¡°your stepmom is kinda¡­ a lot. And we don¡¯t have time for it.¡±


    Looking over her shoulder and hearing the woman continuing to practice her lines, Jae shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s busy running lines for her next audition. Which should take another hour, so we can go up to my room and talk.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Lexi objected with a visible wince as she stepped up next to her brother, ¡°we should probably go. I mean, all of us. Uh, it¡¯s less talking to us and more talking to Grandstand. As in talking her out of her plan, right now, before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    Jae stared at them for a brief moment, then pinched the bridge of her nose and frowned with realization. ¡°She wants to attack Amanda Sanvers doesn¡¯t she?¡±


    Of course she would. Yes, the actual person responsible for killing the woman¡¯s reporter friend had been¡­ killed (Jae still found it hard to think about Jerry, or about what happened between him and Amber), but he had done that whole thing specifically on Cup¡¯s behalf. Of course Grandstand would want her dead too. Her chance for personal revenge against the killer himself had already been taken away, she had obviously transplanted that desire for revenge onto Amanda.


    ¡°Got it in one,¡± Zed confirmed. ¡°She promised to wait until we got back to talk to her about it, but um, I don¡¯t know how long she¡¯ll stick to that. And we need reinforcements. She might listen to you if you tell her how bad of an idea it is.¡±


    Telling the twins to wait there, Jae went back upstairs. She gave a last look at her homework lying on the desk, then grabbed a light jacket and shrugged into it. It was summer, but there was a breeze cooling things off. Plus, she was able to shove the jester mask into one of the inside pockets, just in case. ¡°I really hope things stay calm.¡±


    We¡¯ll do our best to make her see reason, and that this is not proper killing season. But should she insist on playing the cutthroat, let her carry on is my own cheerful vote.


    Grimacing to herself, Jae took a pair of sunglasses and a second mask, this one the simple ski variety, then quickly headed back downstairs. She left a note on the table next to the coffee for Kella, then went through the backdoor to join the twins. ¡°We should hurry. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s a very patient person at the best of times. Let alone now.¡± Actually, she said that, but there was a lot about Grandstand that was a mystery. If she was even still calling herself that after everything that had happened. But whatever name she ended up using, Jae genuinely had no idea how she would react to being asked not to kill Sanvers. Especially after already losing out on Jerry.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Losing out on Jerry¡­ sigh. The thought made Jae stumble a little, drawing concerned looks from the other two before she shook her head and gestured for them to go on.


    The three of them took a bus to the right general area, near a four-story apartment building that had definitely seen better days. But they weren¡¯t going into the apartments. Instead, the twins led her around the back, through an empty field and toward a dilapidated shed whose own better days had come years before the main building¡¯s.


    Before reaching the place, all three of them put those ski masks on. Jae hesitated with her hand near the jester¡¯s mask, but decided against showing up like that. Yes, Grandstand already knew about her, but¡­ but no, this wasn¡¯t a problem for Carousel to deal with. Not yet, anyway. They could still handle this.


    Stopping that one may take confidence and luck, or failing that, hitting her with a truck.


    Biting her lip as the thought passed through her mind, Jae walked with the other two all the way up to the shed. The door opened as they approached, revealing Grandstand herself standing just inside. She gave them a doubtful look. ¡°You certainly took your time. You¡¯re lucky I do my best to keep my word. I told you I¡¯d wait long enough for you to explain exactly why killing this evil bitch is a bad idea. I mean, for fuck¡¯s sake, you should be thanking me for dealing with it quickly and quietly. But fine, give it your best shot. You¡¯ve got five minutes.¡± Her voice was firm, leaving no doubt of how serious she was about that time limit.


    She also stepped aside for them to go in out of sight, so Jae did just that. The twins were right behind her, before Grandstand pulled the door shut. If she couldn¡¯t be talked out of her plan, the first indication they¡¯d have would probably be finding themselves staring at the open door and no sign of the woman.


    Five minutes to talk her out of this? Jae really should have come up with something better to say. She¡¯d tried on the way over here, but honestly, she just¡­ didn¡¯t know how to say it in a way that didn¡¯t come off as cliche and naive.


    ¡°She deserves to die.¡± Well, that probably wasn¡¯t the best way to start, judging by the look the other two gave her. But those were the words that came out. ¡°She¡¯s done evil, horrible things that can¡¯t be forgiven, and she¡¯s lying about that not being her choice. She¡¯s probably planning on doing even worse things if she gets out of this.¡±


    Grandstand gave an audible cough. ¡°I can¡¯t say I expected you to take this particular tack, but color me intrigued. Is this about you talking me out of my plan, or asking to join in?¡±


    Holding up both hands for her to wait a moment, Jae pressed on. ¡°She deserves it, but you don¡¯t. I mean, you don¡¯t deserve to be the sort of person who murders a helpless prisoner.¡± She ignored the woman scoffing at the term ¡®helpless.¡¯ ¡°She is being held in custody. Bypassing all of that so you can kill her would make you a target for the authorities. Even more of a target. They couldn¡¯t let that go. No matter what they think about whether she deserves to live or not, if they just allowed you to get away with killing a prisoner who surrendered to them, no one else would even try anymore. They¡¯d have no choice but to come after you with everything they have, just so everyone else in the future knows that they¡¯ll either protect the people who surrender to them, or move heaven and earth to bring down anyone who threatens that.¡±


    ¡°You think I can¡¯t handle being a target?¡± Grandstand snorted at that. ¡°In case you forgot, my entire thing is drawing attention. Or getting rid of it.¡±


    ¡°Not like this,¡± Jae shot back. ¡°They¡¯ll bring in specialists, you¡¯ll never get a moment¡¯s rest. You don¡¯t have Cu¨¦lebre for backup, or any of the rest of Oscuro. In fact, they might be a bit annoyed with you. There¡¯s no one you can turn to for help if you draw that much heat down on yourself.¡±


    For a second, it looked like Grandstand was going to say something about that. But in the end, she simply shook it off and gestured vaguely. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing, even if you¡¯re right and I get hunted like that, Jolene was my friend. She was the first friend I made after I--after I went through something pretty big. She taught me a lot. She helped me. I may not be able to kill the piece of shit who murdered her, but if you think I¡¯m just gonna let the person responsible for him doing it walk away scot-free, you can--¡±


    Jae interrupted, ¡°Not scot-free, no. But if you kill her now, you let her die with a question mark on her file, an asterisk in her history. If she dies now, the official story will be that she wasn''t responsible for what happened to your friend. I know that might not matter to you, not compared to just letting her go, but that''s not the only choice. If you turn that anger toward proving she''s lying right now, you can get that protection taken away from her. You can make sure everyone knows what she really is once and for all. You can make sure that the last person responsible for Jolene¡¯s death gets written into the history books the right way, so everyone who cares about her gets that closure. No questions, no asterisks. If you kill her now, in a way, she wins. Some people will think she¡¯s a martyr, they¡¯ll see her as a victim. A victim you murdered in cold blood. Do you really want the person responsible for Jolene¡¯s death to be seen as a victim? You prove Amanda Sanvers is responsible for everything that happened, that she¡¯s not a victim, and you give Jolene the closure she really deserves.¡±


    Finally ending with a shrug, Jae murmured, ¡°If you kill her now, it¡¯s just for you, to make yourself feel better. If you put in the effort to prove Amanda Sanvers is lying, it¡¯s for Jolene. And for everyone else who is grieving for her.¡±


    Grandstand was silent for a few long seconds after that, while the twins stepped up on either side of Jae. Finally, she audibly exhaled and muttered a curse. ¡°Fuck. Okay, fine, it might not be the best argument, but I guess you have something resembling a point. Killing that little bitch would be for me, not Jolene. Hell, if you ask me, the big wigs already know she''s full of shit, but they''re hoping to use her. They think they can get something useful out of that brain. So yeah, I''ll prove she''s lying. Not for the deluded fucks in charge, but for everyone else. I''ll expose what she really is to everyone. Then Jolene can--well, I don¡¯t believe in ghosts, but she can metaphorically rest.¡± That claim to not believe in ghosts came with a small smirk that made Jae raise an eyebrow behind the sunglasses she had put on to help hide her eyes. Some sort of inside joke with herself? Because if so, then¡­


    She was snapped out of her thoughts as Lexi spoke up. ¡°Okay, so how do we do that? You know, prove this lying bitch is--um, lying? How do we find that sort of proof?¡±


    ¡°Look through their old hideouts, to start,¡± Grandstand announced firmly while straightening up. ¡°Any place she wouldn¡¯t have told the authorities about. But if we¡¯re gonna do that, we need to find the one Touched we know they still have out there.¡±


    Some may call him canine, but he¡¯s far more a swine. But no, I regret that claim, slander of pigs not my aim. That monster¡¯s just vile, he¡¯d kill all with a smile.


    ¡°Shovel,¡± Jae noted out loud. ¡°The TONI dog, he¡¯s still out there somewhere.¡±


    ¡°And he¡¯ll be able to answer a lot of questions, if we can convince him.¡± Even as he said that, Zed sounded doubtful. ¡°But uh, I¡¯m not sure how we can do that.¡±


    Grandstand shook her head. ¡°One step at a time. First we track him down. Then we¡¯ll work out how to make him¡­¡± She paused, looking at Jae intently. ¡°Okay, do you have a radio in your pocket? Because I swear I keep hearing something.¡±


    That startled the other girl, making her stare that way while her hand reflexively moved to cover her jacket pocket. The motion clearly made Grandstand suspicious, the woman already snapping her own hand out as though to grab her. Left with little choice, Jae tugged the jester¡¯s mask out. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, just¡­¡± She held it up for them to see.


    ¡°Heh, yeah, see?¡± Lexi shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not like the mask can talk by itself.¡±


    Before Jae knew what was happening, a hand abruptly snatched the mask out of her hand. Grandstand had it, already turning toward Lexi, who stood flat-footed as the jester¡¯s mask was pushed over the ski mask she was already wearing.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t be so awful and rude!¡± Lexi¡¯s mouth blurted as she stumbled backward. ¡°Lest you find yourself thoroughly sued!¡±


    Just as suddenly, the girl blurted, ¡°What the hell?¡± Her hand snapped up to take the mask off, holding it in front of herself to stare in disbelief.


    With shaking hands, Jae took the mask from her, giving a sharp glare toward Grandstand. ¡°Stop,¡± she snapped, holding the mask close. ¡°Just stop.¡±


    ¡°What¡­ what just happened?¡± Zed asked with a shaky voice.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± Grandstand casually noted without taking her eyes off Jae. ¡°You know we have Touched animals. There¡¯s even Touched plants out there. They become sapient too. Rare, but there¡¯s a few. And that right there? That¡¯s a Touched object.


    ¡°Carousel is the mask.¡±

 Interlude 30C - Carousel

    Almost Four Years Ago


    Throughout the first several years of its existence, the mask had been nothing more than a simple object. It was a good mask, hand-crafted by a true master, but there was little noteworthy about it beyond that. It was one of its elderly designer¡¯s last masks, and that meant it was listed for far too expensive a price for those who generally came to the costume shop looking for something to scare their friends with or to make themselves a hit at the local Halloween party. For years, it sat on a high shelf, occasionally drawing attention from those interested in the jester look. But those people would inevitably blanch away from the listed price once they saw it and go for something more reasonable. The costume shop owner considered lowering the price just to get it sold, but he was holding out for someone who was willing to pay good money for a genuine piece of art from the master who had designed it. Surely that would happen?


    Perhaps it might have, had other things not intervened. Namely, a group of teenage delinquents who broke into the shop in the middle of the night, seeing it as an easy mark to get some quick cash and neat costumes to screw around with.


    After grabbing what amounted to forty bucks and some change from the register, the disappointed group snatched a handful of what looked like more expensive pieces to sell. They figured someone out there would be interested in the stuff. Maybe one of those Touched people would need a quick fashion upgrade. One of the pieces they grabbed was that expensive mask. The boy who snatched it stood on a stepladder and examined the thing curiously even as one of his companions, standing watch by the door, shouted for them to hurry because a car was approaching. The local security company had gotten an alert about the break-in and were coming to check it out.


    Without taking the time to put the mask in one of the bags they were using, the boy who grabbed it jumped off the stepladder and ran with the thing clutched tightly in his left hand through the open back door and into the alley. The security car came to a stop at the front of the alley and turned a bright spotlight on them. The group immediately split, taking off in different directions while the two guards inside attempted to pursue.


    The boy who had taken the mask ran out of the alley, cutting left to sprint down the empty street while one of the guards pursued him. Glancing over his shoulder, the boy shouted a derogatory slur at the man who was hot on his heels. That only served to make the security guard even more determined to catch up, and the chase continued down that block before the boy cut through another alley. He gained a few yards on his pursuer, before leaping and scrambling to climb atop a dumpster. From there, he jumped to the bottom of a fire escape and immediately began to clamber up, while the metal structure creaked and groaned protestingly under the force of his motions. It had not been examined in quite some time, and was barely prepared to handle the weight of one teenage boy scrambling up it as fast and recklessly as he could.


    It most certainly was not prepared for the added force of the security guard starting to scramble up after his quarry. When the boy was three-quarters of the way to the roof, and the guard only just under halfway, part of the fire escape jerked free of the ten-story building and dipped dangerously to one side. The boy fell on his backside with a curse. Yet the guard fared worse, sliding all the way to the edge before grabbing a precarious handhold on a damp piece of metal, which was sharp enough to cut into his palm. He only managed to hold it for a few seconds, giving him just enough time to see the hard and unforgiving pavement looming over fifty feet below. Then the sharp metal piece he¡¯d managed to grab bent just a little more, forcing the man to lose his grip. With a shouted curse, he began to plummet off the broken fire escape.


    And in that second, just as he lost his grip entirely and cried out, there was a terrifyingly loud clang before another hand grabbed his and brought his horrible fall to a stop just in time. It was the teenage boy who had been running from him. Rather than take the opportunity to escape, he had jumped down and reached out to grab the guard at the last possible second. The boy was nearly yanked off the edge of the structure himself, but managed to shove his foot up against one of the railings while grabbing onto the man''s arm with his other hand as well. Grimacing and sweating, the boy slowly pulled the man up to a safer position. It took several minutes of intense effort and a couple close calls where he nearly lost his grip. But in the end, he finally managed to get the man up enough that they could both shift around and sit in relative safety. Each was panting heavily, barely able to process what had just happened.


    In the end, the guard simply let the boy go. He saw no other real choice. The teenager could have escaped and left him to fall, but he jumped down and rescued him instead. He¡¯d risked not only being arrested, but even falling himself in order to save his pursuer. Letting him go seemed like the only possible response. Though he did promise that if he ever saw the kid doing that shit again, he¡¯d make sure they threw every single book in every single library at him. They shook on the promise that he would stay out of trouble, before carefully getting down and going their separate ways.


    And that, for those two, was the end of it. The boy did manage to stay out of trouble, for the most part. After nearly getting caught and arrested, let alone falling to what either would''ve been his death or at least a crippling injury, the boy had no desire to push his luck even more. He ditched those old friends and straightened up. A true success story for someone who had been on the wrong path turning his life around.


    On the other hand, while it was the end of that particular story for them, it was only the beginning for that stolen jester¡¯s mask. Because when the boy had moved to jump down in order to save the falling guard, he''d tossed the mask away and then forgot about it. The mask fell off to the side, but before it could hit the ground, it was stopped in midair. A small, familiar glowing orb had been on the far side of the very same dumpster that they had both used to reach the fire escape. The glowing orb had been rising into view, moving to see what was happening on the cracking metal above. But before either of them could notice it, the mask fell right on top of the thing. The glow from the orb was mostly hidden save for a very small amount coming through the eyes, and for a few seconds, it looked as though the mask was simply hovering in midair before moving back and forth as the orb attempted to shake the mask off. It actually would have been a quite effective tactic for a haunted house, particularly the way the jester¡¯s eyes glowed from the orb briefly trapped within. But the two up on the fire escape were far too distracted by their own predicament to notice, and no one else was anywhere nearby.


    Eventually, the orb managed to shake free of the mask before disappearing. But in that time, the mask itself had triggered the same effect so many people and animals (not to mention a few plants and the occasional other object) had in the past. It was sent to that other place, that other universe. And just in the same way that animals such as Lion the mouse and Lucent the raven had been gifted with sapient intelligence, so was the mask. That simple, yet expensive and lovingly crafted jester¡¯s mask came back from that otherworld with the equivalent intelligence of a human being.


    It could think, like a person. It remembered its long history of sitting on that shelf. It even remembered being created. And now, it was lying abandoned beside that old dumpster, forgotten by both the boy who had stolen it and the guard who pursued him.


    The mask was incapable of its own movement. It could think, but independent ambulatory motion was completely beyond it. Still, it was far from completely helpless. Among several powers the mask had been gifted with, alongside its new intelligence, was the ability to broadcast its thoughts, similar to speech. It could direct those thoughts to a specific person, or multiple in an area. And with some practice, it managed to attract the attention of a passing stray dog. The canine inspected the mask, before picking it up in its mouth. From there, the mask was able to give better directions. It did not exactly control the dog in the sense of enslaving it. Mostly it gave ideas to the dog, directing it on how to go somewhere it could get treats. Specifically, to a nearby pizza shop that the mask had heard people in the store repeatedly mention tended to hand out scraps to strays. The mask wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled about being in that slobbery mouth, but it was better than lying on that cold, wet ground even longer. And it knew that if the dog was given food, she would be more likely to listen to the thoughts it was transmitting to her. It was training the dog, essentially.


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    Through the next few weeks, they continued like that. The mask allowed the dog to carry it around in its mouth, directing it to shelter and food using the memories it had of what people had said in that costume shop. It had heard enough details to give the animal a distinct advantage when it came to finding all the good places in the neighborhood. All while the mask itself coped with its newfound sapience. It was one thing to be an animal that suddenly found itself intelligent, but being an inanimate object that couldn¡¯t even move under its own power was quite different. It was more limited in many ways.


    That limitation came to a head when the dog was eventually picked up by animal control, with the mask tossed away haphazardly into a nearby trash can. Fortunately, the mask didn¡¯t last long there before a garbage man pulled it free and took the mask to a pawn shop to see what he could get for it. The man walked back out twenty bucks richer (not even one-tenth of the price that the thing had originally been selling for), while the mask was left on a shelf.


    Several people came to inspect the mask over the next couple weeks, but it didn¡¯t particularly like the look of any of them. So it broadcast negative thoughts when they looked at it. Again, it wasn¡¯t exactly controlling them so much as sending negative emotions and impressions toward them when they examined it. That was enough to convince these strangers to leave it alone, while it waited for the right person.


    Eventually, that right person, the person the mask had been waiting for, came into the shop. Jae Baek (not the name her actual birth parents would have given her, but given by a clerk in the social services office who didn¡¯t understand Korean naming conventions) had very recently Touched and was looking for something that could help disguise her very distinctive features. Even at that point, the then-thirteen year old Jae had known that she had a good chance of being identified if she wasn¡¯t careful. She was an albino Asian-American girl in Detroit, the list of possibilities wasn¡¯t exactly extensive. She needed something that could completely cover her face.


    Something like that jester¡¯s mask.


    Jae¡¯s powers were very new. She had no idea if she was going to join the local Minority group, or maybe try to get into Ten Towers. Or maybe there was a local independent team she hadn''t thought about. She knew that she wanted to help people, but not exactly how. Her power was a pretty odd version of telekinesis, given the way objects shrank while spinning around her until she sent them flying. She knew that would require some sort of theme, yet she''d been lost when it came to the details. But in that moment, as she stared at the mask, Jae had wondered if some sort of circus or clown motif might work. The jester was sort of like a clown, and she could work in a full body-covering costume with that theme.


    While she had been trying to decide if this was the right choice or not, Jae picked up the mask and put it on, just to see what it felt like. Immediately, both she and the mask itself knew something dramatic had happened. They were linked. For the mask, this wasn''t like when it had touched the dog. Nor was it like when other people had picked it up since then. The garbage man who brought the mask to this place had put it on for a moment out of curiosity and hadn''t had this sort of immediate connection. The moment Jae put it on, however, it knew so much about her. It knew her thoughts and feelings. It knew her fears.


    It knew she was lost and grieving for her recently deceased adopted mother, a death that had led the thirteen-year-old to feel so alone in that big house that the orb had appeared. The orb that gave Jae her powers.


    It was precisely those powers that made this connection possible. They would eventually realize that the mask''s connection to the people who put it on was much greater in those who were Touched. In normal beings, it could influence them, direct them subtly. But in Touched, the connection was great enough to allow the mask to literally move their body, to control them under its own direction. They could resist, creating a tug-of-war between who was in control. But if the Touched relaxed, the mask could move them like they were an extension of itself.


    That connection went two ways. Not only did the mask get so much information about her, but she also knew everything about it. She knew its history, the way it had been given intelligence, the brief friendship of sorts it had developed with the dog that had found it. She knew how long it had sat on its original shelf before being given intelligence, waiting around for several years without being chosen. It was too expensive, not special enough to spend that money. And now it was in this shop, looking for the right person while pushing away anyone who it didn¡¯t feel was right. It had spent so long not being chosen, and now it was the one doing the choosing.


    Perhaps many would have been horrified by this sudden revelation. After all, putting on what should have been an inanimate mask, only to find that it was actually conscious and knew your thoughts, would have been a rather shocking and even terrifying realization.


    But Jae didn''t see it that way. She had been lost and lonely for so long that she immediately saw the parallels between their histories. The mask had spent a long time with everyone refusing to buy it. By the same token, she had spent a long time being bounced from foster family to foster family with no one adopting her. The mask had found a brief friend with the dog. Jae herself had finally been adopted into a large family. But then the dog was taken away, and the mask was left in the trash. Meanwhile, Jae¡¯s adopted siblings went on to college and careers, and her adopted mother had died. Jae wasn''t thrown in the trash, of course, but she had been left alone in that house.


    They connected with one another, not merely through sharing memories, but through an understanding of their own histories and how they were alike. And in that connection, the mask had come to another realization of its own--or rather, his own. The mask was not an it, the gender expression he saw for himself was male.


    Jae left the shop with that mask. She built her costume around him, and her identity. But it wasn''t simply her identity. Not by a long shot. The mask became as much a part of that identity as the girl was. They were partners, siblings in a way.


    When she met the mask, he had no name. Of course he didn''t, no one named a mask, and he had no idea what to call himself. But soon, they had a name for him. The mask was Carousel. After all, their defining feature, the way they always rhymed, was part of the mask''s power. Beyond simply being sapient and able to share thoughts and feelings with those around him, the mask was Mind-Touched with a focus on language and words. He could translate almost any mundane language immediately, something Jae had to be careful not to expose when they were in costume together. And, of course, he automatically knew how to rhyme any word.


    Beyond those aspects of his language power, the mask had a tendency to know the right thing to say. That wasn¡¯t a completely dependable thing, but if push came to shove and they were desperate, Carousel could sometimes simply guess a word or phrase and it would end up being helpful. Even if they sometimes didn¡¯t understand how it was helpful until later. Or even too late. Other times, they were capable of guessing passwords to computer systems or other coded situations. The right word or phrase simply came to the mask.


    When Jae was in costume, they were both the hero. Carousel was both the mask and their identity together. They joined the Minority together, even if no one else, not even Jae¡¯s own father, knew about that part.


    For the past several years, Jae and the mask had kept that secret from everyone. Not even Amber knew, a thing Jae felt guilty about. But she hadn¡¯t known how to bring up something like that. After all, she¡¯d been keeping that secret for a couple years by the time Amber even joined the Minority. No one else had the slightest idea that the Carousel they knew was actually two beings working in concert together. Until now, when Grandstand and the Chambers twins were shown the truth.


    And now Jae and Carousel had no idea what they would do with that truth.

 Patreon Snippets 25 (Part One)

    Here¡¯s the first half of the new Patreon Snippets, with the other half coming next time!


    What¡¯s Going On With Dani Investigating Why Sierra Looks Like Cassidy?


    Something was definitely up with that Cassidy Evans chick, Dani confirmed with herself as she watched the subject in question from across the school cafeteria. Not that it was anything like the cafeterias she was accustomed to. This place was more like a restaurant, and not the cheap family outing sort. She still couldn''t believe these rich fuck spoiled shits were controlled enough not to carve up the fancy tables or stick gum under them. If even one of these things had passed within a hundred feet of the schools she was accustomed to attending, it would''ve had six different initials and curse words etched into it within a few minutes. And, come to think of it, probably would¡¯ve had at least one leg broken or at least wobbly. But these guys left all of that alone.


    Or maybe they did vandalize shit and the tables were just replaced every evening. They were all so rich she could absolutely see that being a thing. And, what was really sad was that if true, it still wouldn''t even be close to the most wasteful thing she had seen these people do around here.


    But she wasn''t here to keep a running tally of how much money was wasted. That was just something going on in the back of her head. No, her true focus at the moment was on the aforementioned Cassidy Evans. The girl whom Sierra¡¯s Biolem body had been created from.


    Well, no, not girl and not chick. According to people around school, Cassidy Evans had recently begun to consider themself to be nonbinary. Or maybe fluid or something, she wasn''t sure of the specifics. But the point was, not strictly a girl. Which, to be honest, it had made Dani even more suspicious of what might be going on. Had the original Cassidy been taken and replaced by a different Biolem, one who wasn''t clear on the need to not do anything to draw attention to the change?


    Yeah, maybe that was just a little too much paranoia. Just because Cassidy had changed pronouns and all that right around the time Dani had found out for certain that there was at least one Biolem body made to look like them wasn''t exactly a smoking gun. Sometimes a coincidence was just a coincidence. Especially considering they had taken the one Cassidy body Dani was aware of. It wasn''t impossible that there was another, but it was probably that paranoia thing.


    No, there were plenty of other reasons to be suspicious about what was going on with Cassidy. They very clearly weren''t just a typical rich kid, that much was obvious. In the time Dani had been observing them, she saw how much Cassidy looked around, how much attention they paid to their surroundings. They were seemingly hyper aware of everyone around them. They didn''t just walk through school expecting everyone to get out of their way like some of these kids did. Which was ironic considering they were far and away the richest student here. Not that you''d be able to tell just by watching them interact with others. They were more polite than most.


    But it went beyond simple politeness in this case. Their habit of watching their surroundings so much definitely wasn''t just a case of not wanting to run into anyone. No, they were suspicious. The way their eyes darted around when getting near a crowd, the way they watched any quick movement within their line of sight, even at the edges of it, the way they held themselves, it was like they were constantly expecting some sort of attack. They were definitely on edge all the time.


    To be honest, seeing all that made Dani angry, an anger she barely managed to suppress whenever she thought about it so the people around her wouldn''t start asking what was wrong. She was supposed to blend in here (at least as much as someone like her could, a tricky thing as it was), and letting herself start talking to people about the richest, most powerful couple in the state potentially being abusive parents probably wasn''t exactly the right way to do that.


    Yes, though she had started out by trying to figure out if Cassidy Evans knew anything about why Pittman would make a Biolem copy of them, the more she observed them, the louder the voice in her head telling her that this person was being abused got. The signs were all there. They were hyper-aware of their surroundings, avoided getting too near big crowds if they could help it, constantly scanned everyone like they were assessing the potential threat, their defensive posture that was probably only apparent to others who had been in more than their share of fights, or even the way they jumped whenever there was a loud noise. Okay, anyone would jump in such situations, but it was that combined with everything else. And it was also the way they jumped. Dani couldn¡¯t explain it, but Cassidy jumped like a person ready to defend themself, not the generic ¡®oh crap¡¯ sort of jump most people would have when someone dropped a lunch tray.


    Or, again, maybe she was reading too much into it. At least as far as that went. But the rest made Dani pretty damn sure there was at least something going on there. Hell, even Cassidy being so polite to everyone made it seem like they didn''t want to upset anybody. Putting all that together definitely made it seem like their parents might not be as loving as they appeared.


    Of course, an added wrinkle to all that was the fact that their parents were a couple of those who had been affected by Sleeptalk. There were some who could have argued that if Cassidy was being abused, they should have seemed better at this point rather than worse. They were definitely upset by their parents being in the hospital. But then again, sometimes abuse victims could have that sort of relationship. It was hard to say for certain. Besides, it was also possible the abuse didn''t come from their parents in the first place. They had an older brother, after all. Actually, that made even more sense. If the older brother was the abusive one, then their parents being laid up wouldn¡¯t make things better. It would make them worse. Much worse, potentially. Plus, wasn¡¯t there a younger sister in the mix now? Could she become a target as well?


    ¡°Uhh, you okay there?¡± Polly, a slightly younger girl Dani knew from one of her new classes, asked while squinting at her. Or rather, down toward her hand. Looking that way, Dani blanched. Thinking about all that had made her so angry she had bent her fork in half with her thumb. Whoops. Quickly, she shook her head. ¡°Sorry, just thinking about something else.¡± Part of her had briefly thought about coming up with something more specific, but in her experience, that sort of lie worked better when you were vague. Coming up with a full story just sounded rehearsed. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like Polly actually cared that much. ¡°I¡¯ll grab a new one.¡±


    Before she could stand up, however, Polly immediately extended a fresh fork that way. ¡°You can have mine. Don¡¯t worry, I had tacos so I didn¡¯t even touch it. I mean, except for how I¡¯m touching it right now. But that¡¯s on the handle and everything, so you don¡¯t have to worry about me getting germs all over the eating part that goes in your mouth or--and--I mean--I¡¯m overexplaining.¡±


    Oookay, maybe she would care. Turning her attention away from Cassidy, Dani focused that way. Polly was a slight blonde girl, somewhat nerdy-looking but still cute. Was--did--wait did Polly like her? Was that why she was being so weird and babbling like that? Because that definitely didn¡¯t sound like a bored rich girl just being formally polite to the new student or whatever.


    With that thought in mind, Dani took the offered fork and smiled a little weakly. She wasn''t sure how to react to something like that. Being ignored, dismissed, or even looked down on, sure. But some rich girl liking her in that way? She had no idea what to do with that. Especially not now that she had an actual girlfriend. Amber was around here somewhere. They were supposed to meet up later to hang out and¡­ well, talk about a few things. And do some not talking stuff as well. Thinking about that made her blush.


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    Still, Dani gave a quiet thanks. Then she started talking to Polly about other things, distracting herself. It really wouldn¡¯t be good if anyone noticed her constantly staring at Cassidy Evans, especially if someone told them about it. That would just complicate everything too much.


    But she didn¡¯t forget about that thought she¡¯d had. If Cassidy¡¯s brother--Simon, that was his name. If Simon Evans was--wait a minute. Hold on just a minute. What if¡­ oh shit, there had been a Cassidy Biolem that wasn¡¯t being used, but who said that was the only one? What if there was a Simon Evans Biolem and the real guy had already been replaced? What if that one was what had Cassidy themself so upset and on edge all the time, especially now that their parents were sick? What if Cassidy either suspected something was wrong with their brother or knew for certain, and the Biolem was making her keep quiet about it? They might know the truth, or just know that their brother was very different now, even dangerous. What if they had--


    Polly was saying something, and Dani quickly tore her attention away from all¡­ that. Now clearly wasn''t the time to let herself be distracted. But it made sense. Of course there would be a Simon Biolem if there was a Cassidy one, right? And since they apparently hadn''t found one in the same place as Sierra''s new body, maybe it was already in use.


    But, finally, Dani managed to stop focusing so much on the Evans. Mostly because Polly was talking about some new comic book series she¡¯d started reading, and showing off one of the issues. Which--yeah, it actually sounded cool, and the art was great. It was a science fiction sort of thing, alternate reality Earth with weaponized blimps and shit.


    Once lunch was over and she had visited her locker for the next set of books (which Polly had accompanied her for while continuing to talk about the main characters from that comic), Dani hung around with the other girl. She was still trying to work out the best way of saying, ¡®hey you¡¯re cool but I sort of have a girlfriend and also I¡¯m really busy trying to figure out if the richest kid in school is being actively abused or just had their brother replaced by a cyborg.¡¯


    In the end, she settled on just telling Polly she would probably check it out. Which resulted in the girl shoving the entire first graphic novel collection in her arms before running off like her pants were on fire.


    Uhhh¡­. yeah, she was definitely going to have to do something about that. God, if only everything could be about robbing banks, stealing cars, and solving cyborg-related rich kid mysteries? But no, they had to have awkward shit like this too. Heeeeey, maybe Polly was a Biolem¡­


    Yeah, probably not.


    ********


    The Truth About Yellowbrick


    With a heavy sigh, Simon Evans walked back out of the office building he had just been visiting and took a seat in Royal Thunder, the blue, 1971 Plymouth Hemi Barracuda that was both his Dad¡¯s favorite car and Cassidy¡¯s. And with good reason, considering the thing was worth about four hundred thousand dollars. Not the most expensive car in their garage, by a long shot. But damn was it pretty.


    And yet, Simon would give away all of them if it would make his parents wake up. Whatever, the money was worthless without them. He didn¡¯t care about that. He just wanted his family back together, and for all this shit to calm down. There was so much fighting going on in the city, the Ministry was barely able to keep things from completely falling apart. Even then, Simon was pretty sure the gangs were starting to realize the Ministry wasn¡¯t at full strength. And if they pushed too hard--


    No, they still had plenty of ways to keep those people in line. As they had just shown with that shit at the school the night before. Z had done her job, not only in handling at the situation, but doing so in a way that made it clear that the Ministry was not to be fucked with. There was probably a better way of disguising the holes Paintball had left in those walls, and the missing security footage, once everything else was cleaned up, but to be honest Simon had just been tired by that point. So he simply had the people they brought in make it look like some kids broke in and vandalized the place before stealing test answers. Whatever, it wasn¡¯t like the cops would be trying too hard to figure it out. Especially since the cops assigned to the case worked for the Ministry. That tended to make those sorts of things much easier to cover up.


    Shaking off those thoughts, as well as the ones revolving around the argument he just had with the people in that building over how much they owed in taxes, Simon started the car. His eyes closed as he smiled at the purr of the engine. It was like a resting but still very dangerous lion, one that could roar to life with a slight tap from his foot. So, so very exhilarating. No wonder Cassidy liked this car so much. And she didn¡¯t even know half of what it was capable of.


    ¡°Okay, Yellowbrick,¡± he announced out loud, ¡°I promised you we''d take a little ride today, so let''s do that. You seriously earned it after all that extra work you''ve been putting in. Maybe we can even pick you up a present or two. I¡¯ve got a few ideas.¡± With that, he hit the gas and accelerated away from the building as that lion engine bellowed its delight at being put to good use. The power in this car, the sheer strength and freedom it offered, made Simon forget everything else, all his other responsibilities, for a minute. He let himself lean back in the seat and relax, almost reaching out to turn the music up so he could really zone out before coughing. ¡°Aww shit, you¡¯d probably like to experience this a little better, huh? Hang on.¡±


    Coming to a stop at the next red light, Simon reached out to open the glovebox before taking something out. ¡°Here we go, babe. Let me get you plugged in.¡±


    Most of the exterior of Royal Thunder was built the way it had been back in the day, so it would look identical to when it had rolled off the assembly line. But there were some improvements under the hood, literally and figuratively. The car had been converted to a hybrid, so it didn''t use nearly as much gasoline. It also had a high-tech navigation system, stereo, computer assisted this and that, whatever. The point was, there was a computer in there, which came to life with a cheerful ping as soon as Simon took the cord from the thing in his hand and plugged it into the console. ¡°Gotcha, you all set? Got the connection?¡±


    From the thing in his hand, a female voice announced, ¡°You¡¯re damn straight I¡¯m connected! Check it out.¡± The radio station changed, volume rising, before the GPS changed the route on the console screen to look like a hand giving the devil horns. ¡°Now that¡¯s a connection! But you know I don¡¯t need to be plugged in to use the computer here, not with Wi-Fi and the password.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, you¡¯re hot shit, I know.¡± Snorting despite himself, Simon set the thing down. ¡°But you said yourself having a physical connection helps you feel the thing you¡¯re in, right?¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± came that same easy, smooth female voice. It sounded like one of Cassidy¡¯s skater friends. ¡°And I do enjoy feeling things.¡±


    Chuckling, Simon watched the traffic lights start to shift. ¡°Right, joyride time. You might be able to send anyone anywhere in the world as long as there¡¯s a door, but this¡­ this is the real way to travel.¡±


    Grinning to himself as the music was cranked by his enthusiastic companion, he hit the gas once more and they roared away from the stoplight the instant it changed to green. His other hand, the one not gripping the wheel, set the object down in the slot right there under the console. It was a small thing, totally unassuming in the grand scheme of things, and something that wouldn¡¯t stand out to anyone who didn¡¯t know what they were looking at as anything more than a faint curiosity, practically a relic of a bygone age.


    ¡°Okay, Yellowbrick,¡± Simon announced slyly, ¡°let¡¯s see what this baby can do.¡±


    The engine roared, as the car went screaming down the road. All for the enjoyment of two individuals. One was a twenty-year-old boy. The other was a Touched Object, a once-inanimate thing that had found itself--or rather, herself empowered and given both sapience and powers by one of the Summus Proelium orbs. Powers which included creating those connections through doorways as well as an endless power supply that meant she never had to be recharged. Which had been a relief for her, considering how often Simon¡¯s dad had forgotten to charge her back before she gained sapience. But at least now she could have yelled at him about it.


    She, in this case, was a small, ordinary-looking yellow Nokia phone from all the way back in the late nineties. Sterling Evans¡¯ phone from those old days.


    The type that were so durable that they were commonly known as bricks.

 Patreon Snippets 25 (Part Two)

    The Cuddle Corps Eavesdrop On Avant-Guard


    Okay, there was definitely something very weird going on around here. Both in Detroit and this place in particular. Something even more weird than the Cuddle Corps had been expecting when they decided to sneak into this Tech-Touched girl¡¯s shop after hearing that the people from the ultimate supervillain prison, Breakwater, wanted to have her kidnapped to help them figure out how those two Star-Touched had been teleported onto their island. That by itself had meant they thought they were ready for anything that possibly could have popped up. But boy were they ever wrong. They never, no matter how many wild and absurd suggestions Ash threw out (and that wasn¡¯t a short list), could have expected to find out even half of what they had heard in just the past couple hours since they had managed to sneak in here.


    Being who and what they were, the Corps were very accustomed to pretending to be inanimate objects. Their stuffed animal bodies made it much easier all by itself to remain perfectly still with no expression, but it was more than that. When they chose not to move, almost no sort of outside influence could get them to. It basically required a deliberate attempt on their part to start moving and reacting again. It was like they shifted something in their brains to become even more like toys, their minds taking a back seat and releasing their active control over the body.


    Either way, it was very lucky that they had that ability, or the Corps would have exposed themselves a dozen times already, simply by gasping loudly if nothing else. Especially right now, as none other than Cassidy Evans herself paced back and forth right in front of the shelf where they had hidden amongst an assortment of actual toys, talking about secret after secret.


    Not that they knew her by sight, obviously. She was just some rich girl from another state they had barely heard of. Truthfully, if asked for details about her for any particular reason before now, they would have guessed that she was some tall, beautiful and vapid blonde girl who couldn¡¯t stop shopping and would probably end up on a reality TV show. But nothing could be further from the truth, and if they hadn''t had the benefit of keeping their reactions frozen, the entire store would have been filled with a quite deafening gasp indeed when all six of them had realized through context clues who was actually talking.


    Cassidy Evans, daughter of billionaires, was secretly the young, supposedly male superhero Paintball. They had learned some juicy gossip before, but that had to be the biggest shock. And it didn''t stop there. Oh no, they had to find out even more. Not just from Cassidy herself-- but from the rest of her team as well. Like the fact that they had been the ones to take that Breakwater prisoner, because they thought he could help fix the Sleeptalk bioweapon attack that had put half their city¡¯s leaders and Star-Touched out of commission. Because he was some sort of bio-Tech-Touched, someone who worked with literal physical bodies and stuff.


    Eventually, Cassidy and the others moved to the far side of the shop to talk and work on something. Once they were all out of the way, Aspen slowly shifted her head to stare that way. She only moved a fraction of an inch, not wanting to draw any attention. Their invisibility only worked on technology, after all. Fortunately, few people tended to notice slight motion going on behind them or at the very corners of their eyes. And if they did turn to look, going completely still tended to make them think they had just imagined it. After all, who would expect a toy to move?


    Taking in the sight of that group hard at work, she spoke silently through the connection she had with the rest of the Corps. Uh, you guys heard all that, right? I didn''t just imagine the whole thing?


    Nope, nope, nope! That was Willow. Definitely didn¡¯t imagine it. These people are in some really deep and rotten caca. But I don''t understand why they don''t just go to the people in charge and tell them what they know. Wouldn''t it be easier to tell all the doctors that this Pittman guy made Sleeptalk so they can watch what he does and have him build the cure in an actual lab instead of that--uhh, was that really a virtual reality machine they were talking about?


    It was indeed, Oak confirmed, sounding as thoughtful as ever. They appear to be waiting for it to sync up with their new prisoner¡¯s mind. From the sound of things, we have arrived at the tail end of that particular wait. They sounded quite anxious about it.


    Maple turned her own head just a tiny bit, her motions hidden from the people across the room both by the distance and the fact that she was covered by a handful of actual toys. I bet they don¡¯t want to tell the doctors about it because they don¡¯t trust people! Can you blame them? Look at how doctors poked and prodded us for so long.


    It¡¯s gotta be more than that, Ash pointed out, his long red tail swishing slightly from his anxiety and annoyance at having to keep still for so long. They talked about that--what¡¯d they call it? Missionaries?


    Ministry, Willow corrected. Didn¡¯t you hear that Evans girl talking about wanting to wake up her parents so they could get it under control? So they¡¯re in charge of it.


    They all absorbed that thought for a moment before Cherry piped up. Not girl! I heard that boy with the blond hair and his friend--


    Roald and Murphy! That was Ash, delighted to have something to contribute. That¡¯s their names, they said their names before! I heard them, I definitely heard them say that! Murphy¡¯s a fun name, do you think it¡¯s really her name, or a nickname? Who would name a girl Murphy? Is her last name Sarah? Murphy Sarah! I think--


    Ahem! Cherry pointedly interrupted, giving the dragon a slight poke with her webbed foot. Like I was saying! Not Evans girl. Those two were talking about that when they tossed me around in the alley a few minutes ago. Cassidy Evans is--you know, like Bernard back home. No-barnary.


    Aspen corrected, Non-binary. And whatever they are, they¡¯re also Cassidy Evans, like, super-super rich. Their parents could buy our whole old house and put it in their garage for fun.


    So this Ministry, the way they were talking about it, their parents run it and they like¡­ they¡¯re supervillains? Maple sounded a little uncertain about the whole situation.


    Willow¡¯s little penguin head shook just a bit. I don¡¯t think so. I mean, the way they talked about the Ministry having police and doctors and maybe the mayor and stuff, it¡¯s like they¡¯re secretly in charge of things. They control both the good guys and the bad guys. Which sounds like cheating.


    Definitely cheating, Oak agreed. But it does explain how they¡¯re so rich. Or maybe them being rich explains how they can control everything? He paused to consider. Perhaps it¡¯s both. Either way, it¡¯s rather clear that Cassidy Evans does not share her--pardon, their parents¡¯ proclivities. Nor are their parents aware of their dual identity as Paintball.


    I guess that explains why they¡¯re trying to handle all this themselves, Aspen allowed thoughtfully. If this Ministry controls everything, they must be allowing crime to happen! You know, just to get rich off it. Even richer than they already are.


    That prompted a short debate between all of them about whether it would even be possible for any group, even one as apparently well-connected and resourceful as this ¡®Ministry,¡¯ to stop all crime entirely, and what that would entail. Some of them thought it was the duty of such a group to do just that, while others thought it would be giving them too much power. They¡¯d have to jail so many people for even thinking about committing crimes. Which would include the Cuddles themselves, and they didn¡¯t want to be jailed! Not that it would be easy to do so, but it was the principle of the thing.


    Before they could actually come to a decision on how they felt about the whole situation, the group realized they were alone down here. Apparently whatever Cassidy Evans and the others had been waiting for with that Pittman guy was done. They had all gone back upstairs to make him create the Sleeptalk cure.


    Okay, so what¡¯re we gonna do? Aspen asked, straightening up fully to look at the others. They still didn¡¯t speak out loud, not wanting to attract any attention in case someone upstairs had really good hearing. But she did move enough to face the rest of her family. The whole plan was just to sneak in, see what was going on here, and maybe warn these guys that those prison people wanna kidnap this girl. But now we know they have Pittman and there¡¯s the whole Ministry thing and Cassidy Evans is Paintball and--and--and so much. We can¡¯t just leave, right?


    They took a vote on that, but there was no real question and no debate. Though they each had their own reasoning, everyone agreed that they couldn¡¯t leave. They had to stick around and find out more, at the very least. There was no way they could leave it like this.


    Besides, if they had already found out so many interesting things, who knew what would come up the next time Avant-Guard came back down those stairs to start talking again?


    ************


    (NON-CANON) What If Cassidy Didn¡¯t Hear Simon That First Night


    She had Touched ¨C she Touched! In the midst of this horrific nightmare, after seeing a literal execution in the middle of an old building, with men shouting and even shooting at her, Cassidy Evans had touched. Somehow, she had hit the men who were pursuing her through the alley (as well as large portions of the alley itself ) with a spray of various colors of paint. The red paint that was all over the men yanked them together, making them collapse into a tangled pile. And just as she was thinking about hiding under that dumpster nearby, the girl had noticed blue paint under her feet. With an instinctive thought, she activated it, and was propelled screaming into the air and over the nearby fence. Coming down hard on the other side, she heard people coming toward that alley, shouting their own curses. So, without wasting another second, Cassidy scrambled to her feet and began to run once more. Before the people back there could pick themselves up, or be joined by their companions, she was already disappearing across the far street and heading through the next alley. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn''t ever stop running.


    But she did stop, eventually, of course. Whatever these new powers were, they didn''t include endless stamina. Which was too bad, because that sounded pretty damn useful. But then again, so did some sort of magic paper bag she could scream into without terrifying everyone around her until the image of that execution finally stopped bouncing around through her head. Which might take a few years. Or decades.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Some part of the girl knew she should go to the police immediately and tell them everything she had seen. But she was terrified of everything that had happened, and about what might happen to her if she went to the police by herself. Wait, she didn''t have to go by herself. Her parents, she could tell her parents! Oh God, oh yes, they could help. They could find out how to report the--


    Simon! Oh God, oh no, no no! How could she forget about Simon?! In her terror and panic, Cassidy had forgotten that Simon was back there somewhere. What if they found him and thought he was the one who had seen what happened? What if he was being chased by them right now?! No, no, no, she couldn''t let that happen. She had to get some help right now!


    First, she used the anonymous Doephone app to report what she had seen back in that building, giving as many details as she could on the form before submitting it. Then she summoned a ride and paid the man a substantial extra tip to get back to her house as quickly as possible. The whole way, the only thing Cassidy could think about was what might have happened to Simon. She tried texting and even calling him a couple times, the latter of which should have told her brother just how extraordinary the situation was, yet he never responded to any of it. Had he been shot already? Was he hiding like she had been? Was he still running away? Or did he even know what was going on? Maybe he didn''t. Maybe he was okay. Maybe he was completely fine.


    Or maybe he was dead. Maybe he was lying in a gutter somewhere with a bunch of terrifying armed men standing over him and laughing at how helpless he was. Maybe they were holding a gun to his head while his mother and father both lay dead next to the nearby swimming pool and the rest of the staff were all scattered around laying in their own blood, and the man with the gun-


    Wait, where did that come from? That didn''t make any sense at all. Their parents were completely fine, and this didn''t take place near a swimming pool. It was in that old building and the alley. Where the hell had the idea of him being shot in some backyard while their parents were already dead come from? The images were so vivid in her head. She had no idea what that was about, or why she couldn''t stop shaking so much when she pictured them.


    Wait, no, she did know why she couldn''t stop shaking. It was because she had just seen an execution, had just been chased by men with guns, men who would have killed her too, who probably still wanted to kill her if she¡¯d given them half a chance. And now her brother was back there. Was he in trouble or was he fine? Did they know anything about him? Were they chasing him, or hurting him, or was he just hanging out with one of his stupid friends and smoking pot or something? Why wouldn¡¯t he fucking respond to one of her goddamn messages already?!


    Somehow, the ride back to her house was simultaneously agonizingly long and incredibly short. It seemed to take forever, every second lasting hours as the car practically crawled forward. Yet at the same time, she found herself startled when the driver announced they were there. Normally when she snuck out to go skating or any number of things her parents wouldn''t approve of, Cassidy had the driver drop her off well away from the actual front of the house. But this time, she had told him to go right up to the gate. There was no time for anything else, and she wasn''t even going to try to hide the fact that she had been out when she shouldn''t be.


    After throwing a wad of cash at the man, Cassidy jumped out and ran up to the gate. The guard there had just started to come out to tell the rideshare driver he couldn''t stop there and that he had the wrong place when he abruptly recognized just who had just emerged from the vehicle.


    ¡°What th--Miss Evans?¡± He rocked backward on his heels, clearly confused as his eyes darted toward the gate, then the driver (who was already starting to pull back out of the driveway to head down the street), then to the distant house before finally moving back to the girl in question.


    ¡°Greg!¡± Blurting the man''s name, Cassidy couldn''t help but throw herself that way, practically falling in the process while her arms went around him. It wasn''t really the sort of relationship they had, not in the least. But he was a familiar face in the sea of terror that had engulfed and threatened to drown her over these past minutes. Wait, minutes? Yes, it hadn''t even been an hour yet, even though it felt like days had passed. Those last few moments before she had seen¡­ what she saw felt like a lifetime ago, like she had been a completely different person. Thinking about those moments was like she was sitting in a movie theater, shouting at herself on the screen to turn back, to not go in there, to go back to the car.


    But she hadn¡¯t. She had gone into that building. She¡¯d seen what--what she¡¯d seen. And now she had to deal with that, had to deal with the fact that Simon might be--oh fuck, Simon!


    Poor Greg the security guard was still trying to understand why his youngest charge was somehow just getting home in a rideshare car, clearly terrified and panicked to the point that she had thrown herself over to hug him so tightly he could barely breathe through it. He kept trying to ask her what was wrong, using one arm to hold her to him while scanning the surrounding area as though there might be a threat coming. At the same time, his other hand grabbed the radio at his belt, hitting the button to call out that he had some sort of situation at the front and that they needed to contact Mrs. Evans back in the house because her daughter was outside right now.


    Hearing that, and realizing that her mother would be on her way, was enough to make Cassidy snap out of the daze she had been in ever since she had found herself finally in front of a familiar face. Stumbling back, she stared up at the taller man in a panic. ¡°We have to call Simon, we have to tell Simon--have to make sure he¡¯s okay, he¡¯s not okay, he¡¯s out there. We have to make sure he got out and that they¡¯re not after him. I tried to call him but he¡¯s not answering and he never responded to my messages and I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s doing, but if he¡¯s smoking pot or something I¡¯m gonna kill him because he¡¯s not responding and I know he¡¯s gotta be okay but if he¡¯s not and they found him I won¡¯t be able to tell him I¡¯m sorry and I¡¯m not supposed to be out but I liked the car and I was just trying to pretend I was driving it and I didn¡¯t know what he--¡±


    ¡°Principessa?¡± In the midst of her utterly chaotic and basically indecipherable rush of words, Cassidy was interrupted by the voice of her mother, standing right there by the gate. She was staring in confusion at her daughter, clearly just as unable to piece together what she was actually saying as Greg the security guard was. ¡°What happened? Are you alright?¡± There was a slight pause before she added in a slow, uncertain tone, ¡°Where is your shoe?¡± Even as she asked that, the woman took a step through the gate and opened her arms for the young girl.


    Cassidy didn¡¯t hesitate for an instant. Just like that, she threw herself into her mother¡¯s arms and clung tightly to her. The tears threatened to come pouring out, but she held them back. Now wasn¡¯t the time to cry. It wasn¡¯t the time to completely break down. Simon, he was still out there. Maybe he was in trouble and maybe he was fine, but she couldn¡¯t just let herself fall apart until she knew for sure. She had to be certain he was okay, and the only way to do that was to actually coherently explain everything in a way her mother could understand so she¡¯d know what was going on.


    So, with a bit of effort, Cassidy took a deep breath to calm herself as much as possible. She started to tell her mother what had happened, how she had ended up out near that building and what happened when she did. She had only gotten a few words into it before her mom thanked Greg and walked her back through the gate to have some privacy. They walked together through the nearby garden, allowing the wonderful scents to do their part in somewhat calming her down so she could get through her entire story. And she really did go through the entire thing. She told her mother everything she had seen and heard back in that place, including everything that happened with the Orb. She told her about the paint that she could create, and even showed it to her quickly just to prove she wasn''t making anything up. Not that that was necessary. Her mother believed every word she said, and had already produced her phone. With one arm wrapped protectively around her terrified and confused daughter, she made her own call to Simon.


    In that case, the boy answered almost immediately. Hearing his faint voice through the phone, she couldn''t make out his actual words from that distance, Cassity immediately felt a rush of relief mixed with annoyance. He answered their mother immediately, which meant he had been ignoring her messages even though she had made it clear how panicked she was. Did he not even look at them? Did he not understand how terrified she had to have been to keep messaging him like that? What the hell was wrong with him?! Now that she knew he was alive, and from what she could pick out about his tone of voice, not being chased or tortured, Cassidy was definitely annoyed. The panic and fear that had taken over for so long had been replaced by a confusing mix of relief and anger. She wanted her brother to be here right now so she could punch him and then hug him. Then probably kick him a few times before hugging him again. It was a lot.


    Unlike her wish not to have seen what she did, the one for Simon to be there actually paid off quickly. Almost before their mother¡¯s conversation with him had even ended, the main gate was opening as Royal Thunder came pulling right in. Normally it would¡¯ve gone all the way to the garage, but Simon parked halfway up and stepped out next to the entrance into the front garden, turning toward them while clicking off the phone. ¡°See, Booster? I¡¯m all good, just had--oof.¡± That last bit came as Cassidy hurtled directly into him. She¡¯d satisfied both her urge to hug and hurt her brother by bodily throwing herself against his chest and stomach. He staggered backward a step or two before awkwardly returning the hug. Cassidy felt the boy and their mother exchange a long glance as some sort of silent communication passed between them, but didn¡¯t care. She wasn¡¯t even thinking about that. All that mattered was that her brother was okay. He was safe. He was here and those guys hadn¡¯t found him, hadn¡¯t gone after him or--or worse. He was fine.


    Over the next couple of minutes, with some much calmer help from their mother, Cassidy once more explained everything she had seen. She saw the way Simon and their mom kept looking at one another, but couldn''t focus on it too much. She just had to get through her entire story. About halfway through, Simon started looking physically ill. He grabbed a nearby tree and had to lean against it, his eyes locked on her. A couple times, he almost said something, but a simple look from their mother silenced him. Somehow she knew that Cassidy just had to get through it again. Hard as it was, as sick as it made the girl to talk once again about everything she had seen and what had almost happened to her, she had to get through it all. Telling the whole story for the second time in such short order was easier than the first time had been, especially now that she wasn¡¯t terrified of what could have been happening to her brother. He was there, he was okay. Things weren¡¯t good, they weren¡¯t anywhere near that. Not with two people still dead back in that motel. Two people who had been tied to chairs, completely helpless while someone--one of those people-- executed them in cold blood. Their bodies were there, their bodies were back in that building. Unless they were gone already. She¡¯d contacted the police through the Doephone, but who knew how long they would take to respond to that! The bad guys might¡¯ve cleaned up already. What if the cops showed up and couldn¡¯t find anything? What if they dismissed her message as a prank or a joke or--oh god, what if they never actually investigated? What if those people, whoever they were, were just killed and no one ever found out why or how it happened?


    The thought made a rush of panic shoot through the girl, and she immediately started babbling to her mother and brother about how they had to call the police directly, had to tell them to get over there right now and find those bodies before it was too late and the bad guys had a chance to hide everything. They had to explain the whole situation so the authorities would take them seriously and actually investigate properly. Whoever those people were, they deserved justice, they deserved to have whoever had shot--whoever had killed them go to prison.


    Once again, Simon and their mother exchanged silent looks, before the latter stepped over and took her hands. ¡°We will call them, Principessa, I promise. We''ll take care of it. But come, you have been through a lot. Too much for one girl in such a short time. You need to lie down. We will take care of the rest. Come along, and catch your breath. We will tell the police everything you said. After you have rested, we will take you in to give your statement properly.¡±


    Cassidy wanted to argue with that, wanted to insist that she talk to the police right then and tell them everything in person. But the truth was, she really was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. It was all she could do to stagger inside the house alongside her mother, with Simon trailing behind. Instead of taking her upstairs to her room, her mom led the girl to the nearest couch and helped her lie down there. Even as Cassidy felt her eyes start to droop in that comfortable position, her mother cupped her face gently and smiled down at her. ¡°I promise, my brave and beautiful girl, everything is going to be okay. You are safe here. You are protected. We¡¯ll figure out what else to do in the morning. You have nothing to worry about. Everything is perfectly fine.¡± As she said that, her fingers gently stroked through Cassidy¡¯s hair, until the girl felt herself gradually drift off.


    Maybe everything really would be okay. Maybe the cops would find whoever killed those people. And either way, Cassidy could help. Not just those people, but everyone. She could help other people now. She had--oh yeah, powers. She had powers. Her mind was fading quickly, but one thought stuck out in those last few seconds before she completely drifted off into unconsciousness.


    She could join the Minority now.

 Learning Lessons 31-01

    Okay, so, we had a few different things to deal with as it turned out. Not only were the Cuddle Corps here in the shop, they had overheard basically all of our secrets. They knew everything about who I was, what the Ministry was and who their leaders were, what we were doing with Pittman, the fact that Paige and Sierra were biolems, basically everything it was possible to know. All the important stuff anyway. Because we¡¯d had no reason to censor ourselves inside this shop in front of a few stuffed animals. Or at least, we''d thought we didn''t have a reason to do that. But that showed what we knew.


    The next time someone told me I was being overly-paranoid, I was probably going to punch them in the nose. Or maybe I''d just start laughing at them. I wasn''t sure yet. Maybe I¡¯d just start laughing and hitting them at the same time. That wouldn¡¯t raise any red flags, right?


    But no, that wasn''t the end of our issues. Not by a long shot. The whole reason these guys had to come here in the first place was because they overheard some other guys who had been hired to come here to abduct Wren. Hired by Breakwater, as a matter of fact. But no, it wasn''t in retaliation for us stealing that teleport machine right out under their noses. Instead, they wanted to kidnap her because they knew she was a movement specialist Tech-Touched, and they wanted her to help them defend against the very machine we had stolen in the first place. They just thought she could help them, and their way of extending a job offer, apparently, was to try to send men to throw her in a sack.


    Which, to be fair, having people chained up and dragged unwillingly to their island was pretty much their entire business model, but come on.


    Sure, the Cuddle Corps had dealt with those guys for the time being. But that didn''t mean Wren was totally safe. If Breakwater wanted to grab her like that once, they would try again. They would either get messages to people here in the city, or send another group in. Either way, it was obvious that she was a target now.


    And she wasn¡¯t the only one Breakwater would be interested in if they got too close. We had Pittman here, and still had to figure out what to do with him now. We had already sent the evidence about Amanda Sanvers creating Sleeptalk to the authorities, so they were going to have to convince her to give them the cure. Especially now that the whole plan to hold a bunch of people hostage at my school in exchange for Pittman¡¯s release had fallen through.


    Oh yeah, and one of the main reasons it had fallen through was because the Ministry¡¯s favorite assassin killed everyone there. Leaving behind a bunch of hostages who, as of right now, were having their memories rewritten. Or already had. Because that was just such an A Plus plan to go on back to whenever someone went through something traumatic. Just erase their memory and pretend everything is hunky dory. Perfect response, no notes.


    Meanwhile, the other main reason that hostage plot had fallen through was because Ryder gave us the heads up. Which meant that he now knew even more than he had before. Not everything that was going on, but enough that he was going to have a lot of questions. Questions that he deserved to have answered. Especially after everything he had already done and kept secret. Even if the idea of involving him even more in stuff that could get him hurt again made me want to start screaming.


    Was I forgetting anything? Oh yeah, now that we¡¯d had to ask the Ministry for help and throw the Pittman name at them, they obviously knew that we knew about him. So, I was pretty sure they were going to put two and two together and realize we had the man. That is, if they didn''t just get that directly from the disabled Biolems they had taken with them. Which meant they would almost certainly be demanding we hand him over to them any minute now. And now that we knew what that Z girl was capable of, their demands held a hell of a lot of weight. I didn¡¯t know how we would refuse to give Pittman to them. Nor was I sure that we shouldn¡¯t just do that. Some part of me wanted to tell them no just on principle, but why? Was I just being stubborn? Was I afraid of what they would do to him? Or was I afraid that even after all this, they would still try to make him work for them, that they would actually employ him. They weren¡¯t that stupid, they couldn¡¯t be. Yet there was a part of my mind that wouldn¡¯t shut up about that faint possibility. I had no idea what we would do if they did try that.


    And, of course, on top of everything else, my parents were still in the hospital. We¡¯d done all we could, sending all the proof to the authorities to get them to force Cup to make a cure, but as of right now it wasn¡¯t done yet. The Cuddle Corps were here, Breakwater people were trying to kidnap Wren, we had Pittman upstairs, Amanda was secretly his apprentice and the one behind Sleeptalk, the authorities were trying to force her to make a cure, her people knew we had Pittman and had tried to hold innocent people hostage to force us to give him back, the Ministry either knew or would know we had him and would probably demand we hand him over, and all those hostages were being memory-wiped. I had all that other shit bouncing around inside my head, while still dealing with the fact that my mom and dad were sick.


    ¡°Uh, Paintball?¡± Murphy was the first to speak up, breaking the silence that had descended on the shop while I had been going over all that in my head. ¡°You okay? You¡¯ve been staring at that wall for a minute now and uh¡­ I think we¡¯re all a little afraid you figured out a way to spontaneously force an out-of-body experience so your spirit could go scream in a tunnel somewhere.¡± Her voice was a little strained.


    Roald started to say something, but I took a breath and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m okay. I just--fine, I¡¯m--definitely not fine, but I could be worse. We could all be worse.¡± Of course we could, we could be dealing with Wren being kidnapped by people working for Breakwater. Instead, we knew about the threat now and had¡­ help to deal with it.


    First things first, I focused on the assembled stuffed animals. They were all together on one of the counters, next to where Wren was sitting. ¡°Thanks. That-- that seems really inadequate considering everything, but seriously, just¡­ thank you. Thanks for being there, for stepping in to stop them, for showing up and telling us the truth¡­ um, eventually. And um, you know, for saying you¡¯ll keep all this secret. Thanks for everything. I, uh, really don¡¯t know how to say it any better. We owe you.¡±


    Aspen, the bunny, popped up to her feet, then hopped onto the back of Oak, the turtle. ¡°Hey, we couldn¡¯t just let them kidnap her! Even if we did think being bank robbers would be a good idea to make people leave us alone, that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re okay with jerks like that!¡±


    Cherry, the duckling, raised a tiny wing. ¡°Um, I still think it¡¯d be cool to rob a bank. Especially if we get to wear masks and fedoras. But yeah, definitely not okay with kidnapping.¡±


    ¡°Dude, you¡¯re not wrong, robbing a bank sounds cool.¡± That was Sierra, who gave them a thumbs up before looking over at me with a shrug. ¡°What? I didn¡¯t say it¡¯d be fun to hurt anyone or blow up the bank or any--actually come to think of it¡­¡±


    ¡°No one¡¯s blowing up a bank. Or anything else,¡± I insisted with a groan. ¡°Please, let¡¯s try to be a better influence, huh?¡± Turning back to the newcomers, I added, ¡°And speaking of influence, what are you guys gonna do now, exactly?¡±


    Maple, the monkey, raised both arms and extended them out to about twice their normal length. ¡°Like we said, we wanna help! We¡¯re gonna stick around and guard this place for you! No one who comes in here will ever suspect that the stuffed animals sitting around are security guards for you! We can sound the alarm, attack them, or just watch and find out everything about whoever breaks in.¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°And we can help in other ways too,¡± Willow, the penguin, quickly noted. ¡°We can help around the shop, clean stuff, build stuff, carry stuff, we¡¯re good at stuff!¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± I hesitated before offering a weak, ¡°what about the people who care about you? Won¡¯t they be worried? You ran away from home. Isn¡¯t there, um, someone?¡±


    Peyton nodded quickly. ¡°Yeah, there have to be people who are going to be worried about you. People who miss you. And¡­ and that you miss.¡±


    ¡°We care about us,¡± Ash, the dragon, informed me firmly while rising up onto his hind legs and spreading his wings out. ¡°The only thing Mister Imens cares about is his career. And our parents¡­ um, they didn¡¯t exactly stick around for very long.¡±


    ¡°They left us with the Minority people,¡± Oak put in. ¡°While it¡¯s true that there were those who were friendly with us, who probably cared about what happened to us, nothing about that place was a home. We shall miss those who were nice and decent, particularly our teammates. But the very fact that we did walk away, and wish to stay away, should say a lot even if specific words fail us.¡±


    Aspen¡¯s voice was firm. ¡°We¡¯re not going back. If you don¡¯t wanna let us stay here, we¡¯ll go somewhere else. We uhh--don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll keep your secrets, all of them, no matter what. We¡¯re not stupid blackmailing jerks. We won¡¯t tell anyone about you, ever. But we¡¯re not going back to Ohio, and we¡¯d like to help you. Please uh, let us help.¡±


    Wren hopped up, giving a quick nod. ¡°We can¡¯t make them leave! They can help, they already helped! Please don¡¯t make them go away, not after everything they said.¡±


    Oh boy. There was a lot I wanted to say about all of that, but my gaze turned toward Fred. ¡°When it comes down to it, this is your place. Yours and Wren¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°By which,¡± he grunted, ¡°you mean that if this whole situation blows up, I¡¯m the one legally responsible for not telling the cops that we have a bunch of child runaways here. They tend to frown a bit on that at the best of times, let alone when it¡¯s child superheroes. Beloved child superheroes who happen to be incredibly popular.¡±


    And yet, after saying all that, he stared at Wren with all those living stuffed animals gathered around her for several long seconds before giving a heavy sigh. ¡°How about this, we¡¯ll wait until the quarantine comes down and figure out something to do then. Maybe they¡¯ve got some sort of system for assuming custody in this sort of situation. It sounds like your parents left and you were kind of just taken in by the officials over there, so¡­ I dunno how that works. But we can figure it out. I uhh, I hope.¡± He was grimacing a bit by the end, but gave a weak smile when Wren threw herself that way to embrace him.


    Paige finally spoke, her voice reassuringly calm and reasonable. ¡°Seems to me they probably won¡¯t want to have you go on the news complaining about how they¡¯re dragging you back to a place you don¡¯t want to be. You may not like being popular, but it¡¯s your best weapon in a situation like this. People will listen to you. Plan out exactly what to say, look into the legal avenues open to you, and then promise to scream to all your fans about how bad those people are treating you. They don¡¯t want a scandal, so they¡¯ll probably quietly agree to some sort of transfer.¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°The point is, we¡¯ll figure it out. One step at a time. And right now, we don¡¯t really have to worry too much about that specific thing until the quarantine comes down.¡± Which, I reminded myself, would be after my parents and everyone else who had been infected were finally cured.


    Everyone seemed to agree with that. Which, yes, meant we were basically kicking the can down the road, but that was just going to have to work. We had more than enough to deal with as it was. Besides, I couldn¡¯t say it wouldn''t be nice to have more help watching over the shop. These guys were right about how effective they could be. Even we hadn''t noticed them until they spoke up, so any strangers who broke in wouldn''t have a chance. Especially if they had no reason to think the Cuddle Corps were even in the state, let alone city.


    Hell, come to think of it, even the Ministry didn''t know they were here. They could be a surprise all across the board. And God knew we needed as many surprises as we could get.


    And, well, there was the fact that they knew all our secrets. Yes, they had promised not to tell anyone, which I really appreciated. But if they did go off on their own, there was always a chance they might either accidentally give something away, or get in trouble and have it forced out of them.


    So, it just made me feel like it was a little safer, both for us and for them, if they stayed here. Part of me felt bad for that, thinking I should send them back home. But if it was like they said, they didn''t really have much of a home to go back to. Their parents had abandoned them for the government to take care of, which was just pathetic. If I wanted them to have a home, we should help them turn this into one.


    Well, at the very least, Qwerty was on board. He and Ash were flying around the room, both whooping with excitement. Well, technically only the toy dragon was flying under his own power. Qwerty had his wings extended along with his arms and legs. Ash, meanwhile, was above him, using his front and back paws to hold onto Qwerty¡¯s. That way, when Ash flew, he could carry Qwerty underneath him, while the latter kept his wings spread out. They did several circles through the room that way, each cheering one another on.


    Yeah, it was starting to look like they had both found a best friend just like that. How could I possibly break that up? We were just going to have to figure something out.


    Leaving them like that while the others looked on, Paige, Sierra, Peyton, and I stepped upstairs. We were all staring at the man still trapped in that virtual reality machine. He couldn''t see or hear us. He had no idea what was going on here. Well, no, I didn''t think that was true. I was pretty sure he had a guess or two about at least some of what was happening. Even if he didn''t get the specifics.


    ¡°We should shoot him in the back of the head and be done with it,¡± Sierra announced finally while we were all staring. ¡°There''s enough problems to deal with. And every minute that passes is another minute where something could go wrong. There''s still more of his people out there waiting to take another shot at us. If they get lucky and he escapes¡­¡±


    Paige muttered a curse under her breath before turning to face us. ¡°He won''t escape. He can''t escape. We can''t let that happen. She''s right, we should just end this right now.¡±


    I knew they both had a point, but still, my face blanched. ¡°We can''t just kill a prisoner like that, come on. That can''t be who we are. He''s completely helpless right there.¡±


    Paige snapped, ¡°He''s not helpless. And if he gets out of that, you better believe he won''t show any of us any mercy. None.¡±


    Meeting her gaze, I nodded. ¡°I know, but we have to be better than that, Paige. We can''t just execute him. I know life isn''t a fairytale. I know that sometimes there are bad people who are better off dead before they can hurt anyone else. But he''s a prisoner. He''s secured, as secure as we can possibly get him. We can''t execute someone like that.¡±


    Peyton agreed with that, looking just as sick at the question of what we were going to do with him as I felt. The four of us talked about it for another minute before deciding we were too tired to get into it. That would have to wait until everyone got some rest.


    Needless to say, I wasn¡¯t the only one staying here tonight. Paige and Sierra would be sticking around as well. Part of me wanted to argue that they were probably the least safe people to have in a building with Pittman if he happened to get out, but I didn''t think that would be a very helpful argument. Not given the mood they were in.


    Finally, I couldn''t focus anymore. It had been an incredibly long day, and I was just done. There was so much to deal with, so many problems to handle or wait for others to handle, that I was losing track of the details. We had been in that big fight with Oscuro, had gone to Amanda''s lab to find that proof, and dealt with that hostage situation, all before coming back here and finding out that we were being spied on by the Cuddle Corps, who were going to stay here at least for the time being.


    It was a lot, more than a lot. At that particular moment, I just couldn''t handle it anymore. I couldn''t make any decisions. It was time to go wind things down and actually get some sleep. Or at least try to. If I could fit that in between worrying about my parents, the Cup situation, what the Ministry was going to do when they found out we had Pittman, what we were going do with Pittman himself, how keeping the Cuddles around could backfire, the fact that I had to go to school tomorrow and pretend everything was okay, how much I needed to tell Ryder and how he would react to all that¡­


    Come to think of it, I might not be getting to sleep for a while.

 Interlude 30D - Casura

    It was a very special convoy that made its way south away from the currently-quarantined city of Detroit. Consisting of five armored (and armed) SUVs riding shotgun around what appeared to be an ordinary full-sized semi-truck like any other on the freeway that could have been delivering food or other supplies across the country, some might have been a bit confused by the sight.


    But this was no ordinary semi. The walls of the trailer were made of a particular alloy that would stand up against a direct missile strike without revealing a blemish. Adding to that, a Touched-Tech generator within the cab of the truck projected a nearly-invisible energy shield, which not only added to the protection level but also prevented virtually any sort of teleportation in or out of the truck. Sensors within the trailer part monitored the number of occupants and would deploy countermeasures both within the general area, and directly into the intended occupants themselves should any additional, unintended people arrive within that space despite the teleportation blocking shield. The same sensors monitored any movement in that area, which should have been quite minimal given how well-secured the passengers within were.


    Passengers, or as they actually were in truth, prisoners. This armored semi-truck, and the convoy it was attached to, carried the remaining members of the Scions of Typhon. Aside, of course, from the one called Cup, who had betrayed them and her own brother so effectively. Nine Touched prisoners were contained within. Three of them fully established Touched members of that gang of psychopaths. Fork, the fully human man who looked like an anthropomorphic porcupine and was able to project and mentally direct his explosive quills. Box, the man capable of creating orbs that would explode into various elements. And Anchovy, who could force any person he focused on to have incredibly bad luck on anything they were attempting to do at the time. Each of them alone was responsible for dozens of murders personally, and as a group¡­ they were some of the most prolific serial killers in recent memory.


    Meanwhile, the other six prisoners were all those who had been actively attempting to join that group. Each killers in their own right, each so very dangerous. Trove, the girl with the gems of various colors and abilities. Stogie, the man who could change himself into a smoke shape that could transition between solid and not at his will. Label, who projected a blast of concussive force followed by a bolt of electricity with his roar, the target of which would sprout suffocating mushroom spores. Slipper, a woman who could create ghost-knights under her direction. Plate, a metal manipulator who grew incredibly strong when touching that metal. And Tractor, whose concussive waves of energy incapacitated any living being through nausea and pain while creating explosions of various effects when targeted against nonliving material.


    Needless to say, no one was saddened to see those nine monsters being taken away from Detroit. The city had enough problems as it was, and hardly needed them adding to the situation. Especially now. These nine would be driven to a maximum security prison in Ohio, before being taken through the court systems and almost certainly sent to Breakwater once their trials were over. But all of that would happen well away from Detroit, even if witnesses to their crimes needed to be carefully brought out of the city should it still be quarantined at the time.


    Everyone involved truly hoped the Sleeptalk situation would be resolved by that point. Not simply for logistical reasons, but because the city of Detroit very much needed the break.


    The journey was intended to be about four hundred and fifty miles. With the occupants of the truck very securely strapped down, including powerful tranquilizers that would deploy the moment they attempted any sort of escape, and half a dozen armed men just within the trailer alongside them, the escort was taking no chances. Each of those five SUVs contained another four heavily-armed and armored troops, and the vehicles themselves were capable of deploying enough weaponry to challenge a decent-sized army. These were the Scions, what was left of them anyway, and no one was going to risk allowing them to escape this time.


    All of which was why the convoy began taking lesser-traveled highway paths, staying away from the much busier freeways as much as possible. Having fewer other cars around presented less in the way of possible hostages or other victims should anything go wrong, and also allowed the escorts to keep a closer eye on those few vehicles that did travel near them. There were fewer potential problems to watch, allowing them a much better chance to spot trouble.


    And yet, despite all of those precautions (and many others besides), when the lead SUV came upon the sight of three people, a woman and two small children, walking along the side of the road while looking dirty, cold, and injured, they did the only human thing they could do: they slowed down. The driver pulled alongside those three, while the man beside him lowered the window and grimaced slightly at the sight. The woman and her apparent children looked like they had just walked away from a terrible wreck, or possibly a house fire, given the state of their clothes and the soot across their faces. They also appeared to be exhausted, trudging along more on instinct than out of any conscious effort. Their eyes were bloodshot, with that thousand-yard stare of people who had been through a horrific tragedy. The children were all-but walking out of their damaged shoes, the remnants slapping against the pavement with each step.


    ¡°Excuse me, Miss?¡± The armed man in the passenger seat called out. ¡°Do you need to use the phone? There might not be much of a cell signal out here, but we have a satellite connection so you can call someone to pick you--sorry, what happened? If you or your kids need any medical attention, or--¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± the woman in question interrupted, giving him a sad, defeated smile with no real trace of relief or gratitude within it. She was afraid, that much was clear. No, not afraid. Terrified. ¡°But you¡¯ve done enough just by pulling over. We were afraid you¡¯d keep driving. But you didn¡¯t. You stopped. Thank God, you stopped. You stopped, so she¡¯ll let us go. She¡¯ll let us--¡±


    In that moment, the woman and both of her children blew apart in an explosion that sent the SUV skidding sideways before flipping over onto its side. Bloody remains decorated the side of the vehicle and the face of the man who had been talking to them. The explosion was so sudden and so loud, that the rest of the escort and the semi-truck itself, who had been approaching that spot, all skidded frantically to a halt. The prison truck swerved, nearly upending itself before coming to a stop, while its four remaining escorts all formed a wall between it and the horrifying incident ahead of them. None understood what had just happened. Nor did they have any idea what was still about to come. But one thing was clear, this was an attack.


    The first thing they did, once the convoy had stopped, was call for immediate air assistance. They had a helicopter flying overwatch, complete with its own weaponry and a heavily-decorated sniper capable of taking the eyes out of a driver doing eighty down the freeway, through reinforced glass. Anything the support trucks couldn¡¯t handle, their eye in the sky would.


    Or should have. But the next sign that something had gone terribly wrong, while the men in the overturned SUV were still orienting themselves and shaking the ringing out of their ears (and, in one case, wiping bloody remains out of his eyes), was static on the radio when the escorts called for immediate aerial assistance.


    That static was quickly followed by something much worse: the sudden and violent arrival of the helicopter itself. It came plummeting out of the sky, slamming into the nearby empty field with a terrifying explosion that seemed so much louder and more violent than it should have. It sent a shockwave across the freeway that rocked the occupants of the vehicles, and knocked the SUV that had been on its side all the way over to its roof.


    Once the deafening noise of those two explosions in rapid succession, one coming from the mother and her children, while the other came from the crashed helicopter, a very different sort of sound filled the air. The sound of laughter. Not just soft chuckles, but loud, full-on guffawing. A woman appeared in the middle of the road, just in front of the overturned SUV, itself a couple hundred feet from the rest of the convoy. One moment that part of the road was empty, and the next, the woman stood there. She was doubled over, laughing so hard she could barely keep herself on her feet. With the thick cloud of dust still filling the air, it was hard to make out details, but it was clearly a feminine form and voice.


    ¡°Oh--oh God, oh my God, you should¡¯ve seen your faces!¡± she guffawed the words, stumbling a bit to the side before catching herself against the overturned vehicle. ¡°She was like, ¡®we¡¯re safe now, she¡¯s totally gonna let us go¡¯ and then boooooooom! Spuuuulaaaaaatchaaaaaaaach!¡± Pantomiming the explosion as well as the way the remains were dripping down the vehicle (and the one man¡¯s face), she cackled a bit more, seemingly too distracted to notice the guards in the other SUVs leveling their weapons. Without another wasted second, they opened fire. There was still too much dust for them to know precisely who they were shooting at, but she was clearly too dangerous to simply demand a surrender. All twelve men from those four SUVs opened up on her. Eight with their own highly destructive rifle-shaped beam weapons, while the drivers simply utilized each vehicles¡¯ mounted laser cannons. The sheer level of firepower being directed toward that single female figure should have been enough to transform her into the equivalent of the dust that continued to obscure her form.


    And yet, in the next moment, the dust was abruptly and instantly cleared. The figure simply gave a slight gesture with two fingers, and the cloud was gone. Which revealed her full, unobscured form as she stood with her other hand outstretched. A small black orb, about the size of a beach ball, floated in the air just in front of her palm. Each of the lasers being directed toward her, from the individual rifles and the mounted cannons alike, were being bent toward and sucked into that dark orb. When the troops saw that, they stopped firing. And then they saw exactly what--who they were facing. A woman in a black, skin-tight suit encompassing her entire body from neck to toes. Red-orange cloud patterns decorated the arms and legs of the suit, while a red smiley face, consisting of slanted diamond-like eyes and an unnatural-looking V-shaped maniacal grin that rose too close to the eyes, covered the front torso. Her face was obscured by a black helmet with a red visor that had two black dots serving as the ''eyes'' and a wide, smiling black mouth.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    She required no introduction or explanation. Every person in the civilized world knew the figure in front of them, by name and reputation. And no one would dare dress to imitate her, lest they draw her attention. Known for killing Fells as readily as she did Stars, the one known as Casura had no gang, no army, no followers or minions.


    She didn¡¯t need them.


    When they saw her, when they recognized what they were facing, half of the assembled troops bailed immediately. Vaulting themselves from their vehicles, they dropped their weapons and fled. Or tried to. Those six men barely made it twenty feet before a flick of the woman¡¯s finger made the rotors from the crashed helicopter tear themselves free of their housing, shatter apart into hundreds of much smaller pieces, and launch themselves at the men like they were being fired from a minigun. The fleeing troops were cut down in an instant.


    Of those who remained, four tried opening fire once more, one floored the pedal in his SUV to send it hurtling straight at her, while the last produced a pair of grenades from his belt and launched himself that way.


    With a sharp gesture from one hand, Casura took control of the incoming lasers and bent them back around to cut through the men responsible for them. The single much larger blast from the mounted cannon on one of the SUVs vanished through a portal she created with her other hand and reemerged from an identical portal set perpendicular to the row of trucks. Normally, that single shot would barely have been enough to rock the first vehicle it collided with. Yet, after passing through the portal, its energy had been enhanced dramatically. Such that, in an instant, all three trucks were vaporized. Both actions, cutting through the troops with their own manipulated laserfire, and supercharging and redirecting the shot from the mounted cannon, came simultaneously.


    In the next moment, the SUV that had been rocketing toward her collided with the woman. Or it would have, had she not become intangible in that second. As the vehicle barreled through her ghost-like form, she stuck one fist out and allowed that single part of her body to become tangible just long enough to collide directly with the driver¡¯s face before shifting back to its ghost-like state once more. With the speed he was going, the entire structure of his skull exploded instantly, while the SUV kept going on off the road and through the field for another hundred feet or so.


    Finally, the man who came charging toward her with those two grenades released his hold on the pins, screaming the whole time. He didn¡¯t expect to come out of this alive, but maybe, just maybe, he could put this monster in the ground on his way out.


    Instead, Casura snapped her hand out in his direction. The blood from the driver¡¯s vaporized head, which had been hovering in the air around her, sailed that way. Both of the grenades were torn from his grasp and encased within the blood, which immediately hardened into a pair of shells strong enough to contain the ensuing explosions little more than a few cracks to show for them.


    Left stumbling to his knees on the pavement, the man looked up to find Casura standing over him. Her head tilted one way, then the other as though considering him. ¡°You were gonna blow yourself up to hurt me.¡±


    ¡°Please, I--¡± the man started, only to be stopped when she pressed a blood-covered finger to his lips.


    ¡°Shhhhh, we¡¯re bonding now,¡± Casura cautioned. ¡°Don¡¯t ruin it by talking. I think¡­. hmm, yeah, this could work. You were willing to kill yourself to stop me. That¡¯s worth something right there. That¡¯s a story. And if you¡¯re the only survivor, the one man willing to die is the one who lives? That¡¯s kinda funny. Sure, yeah, that sounds good. You can be the one who lives.¡±


    Instinctively and without thinking, the kneeling man¡¯s eyes shifted to see the troops in the overturned SUV, who were still recovering from the shock of what had just happened over the past few seconds. Already, they were trying to scramble out through the shattered windows.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± the dangerous woman murmured thoughtfully, ¡°I suppose we don¡¯t want that ¡®only¡¯ to have an asterisk next to it, do we? Good call, buddy. You really are ruthless.¡± Her hand closed into a fist. At the same time, the SUV crumpled itself into a ball of metal about a quarter of its original size, with the dazed troops still inside.


    As a horrified retching sound escaped the surviving man, Casura straightened up to walk around him. ¡°Hey you wanna know the real funny thing?¡± she called over her shoulder on her way to the waiting truck. ¡°That lady and her kids aren¡¯t actually dead. I just made them switch places with a huge pig that had a metric shit-ton of Semtex shoved down its throat at the last second. Right now, those three are laying in a muddy field wondering what the hell just happened! Sure looked like they blew up though, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    By that point, she had stopped in front of the semi truck. Its loudly revving engine grew even more insistent. The driver had been attempting to drive away, backwards, forwards, anywhere that entire time. Yet throughout the entire encounter, seemingly without spending much effort or attention in the process, Casura had kept the truck rooted in place. It had barely budged an inch or two for all that effort.


    ¡°Hey buddy!¡± she called up to the driver, who was still flooring the pedal desperately. ¡°See, we¡¯ve got a real problem here. I was totally gonna let you go, but your friend over there had this great idea about being the only survivor of this whole thing, and he seems to be a real stickler for it. Between you and me, I think he needs something special like this in his life. I¡¯d say we should delve further into that, but for some reason there¡¯s not a single accreditation office out there that will give me a psychologist license. And, well, in your case there¡¯s the whole dead thing. Unless, of course, you can talk to your buddy and get him to call it off. But I¡¯d uhh¡­ I¡¯d talk fast. Try calling him! I¡¯m sure you have his number.¡±


    With that, she began walking past the far side of the cab, just as it was seemingly spontaneously engulfed in flames. The fire erupted instantly, filling the interior of the cab while the man within screamed and frantically tried to open the stubbornly-locked door. Casura, in turn, pantomimed holding a phone to her ear and pointed back toward the still-heaving man who had tried to blow himself up to stop her.


    Humming offkey, the woman skipped cheerfully to the back of the truck. Extending one hand, she summoned blood from the remains of the men who had been cut in half by their own lasers. The cloud of reddish-black liquid enveloped her arm, forming a much larger facsimile of one. That blood arm was shaped like a ten-foot long bear¡¯s paw, complete with claws. With a single swipe, she cut through the back doors, ripping a hole through them.


    Immediately, the men inside, who had been waiting, unleashed every bit of firepower they could into the woman. Five held similar powerful laser weaponry as their companions outside, while the sixth stood at the controls of a mounted gatling-style vulcan cannon. It was capable of firing thousands of shots per minute, and in those first three seconds, it lived up to its reputation. Hundreds of bullets rocketed straight at the woman, accompanied by those four deadly lasers. And, just like their companions moments before them, none of their attacks mattered. In this case, Casura simply allowed the bullets and lasers alike to strike her. They accomplished precisely nothing more than creating a deafening cacophony. And even that was taken away almost immediately as the woman used another power to create a sound-dampening field, silencing everything in the area aside from herself. It came from the same Touched whose powers she had used to project her voice for the men in the SUVs to hear while she was laughing earlier.


    ¡°Now see,¡± she remarked in a bored tone, ¡°if it was that easy to put me down, don¡¯t you think someone at some point would have managed it. The dude double-fisting grenades, ready to take himself out to slow me down? That was cool. That was some action movie shit. This is just sad.¡± With that, she gave a sharp motion with that oversized blood paw. It broke apart into six different spears, which flew out to impale the desperate-firing troops. The spears cut through their armor, lifting them off the floor before sending them flying backward to leave them pinned to the far wall of the trailer like an assortment of dead butterflies. The minigun finally stopped spinning, its bullets tapering off with a few last seemingly half-hearted shots that pinged uselessly off the woman¡¯s face.


    Then all was silent, save for the distant sounds of the man throwing up near the front of the truck, and the crackle of flames within the cab. The driver had fallen very silent after far too many seconds of agonized screams.


    And yet, rather than walking up into the trailer, she paused, drumming her fingers along the side of her helmet thoughtfully. ¡°I feel like I¡¯m forgetting something. What was it? Oh, right--¡± In an instant, moving too quickly for the motion to be followed with the naked eye, she pivoted precisely one hundred and eighty degrees, hand snapping up to catch a glowing red bullet in midair barely an inch from her eye. ¡°--the other sniper.¡± It was a Touched-Tech bullet, of course. One meant to cut through even the strongest durability. And yet now, it simply sat between her fingers.


    Or it did sit there, until she narrowed her eyes to stare off down the highway, somehow seeing the source of the bullet over a full mile away, where the trailing truck had stopped, its driver frantically calling for assistance while the sniper on the roof sighted in for another shot. Yet before the driver could get any response, and before the shooter could pull the trigger, Casura snapped her wrist, sending the bullet flying back the way it had come. It ripped through the skull of the man who had fired it, before the bullet stopped in midair and reoriented to face the truck itself, deliberately aiming through that and at the back of the driver¡¯s head while he started the vehicle and began to hit the gas.


    A second later, it was over, as the bullet broke through the roof and into his skull, leaving his lifeless body slumping over the wheel as the truck drove into the ditch.


    All of which soon left Casura standing in the back of the trailer surrounded by those nine heavily-drugged Fell-Touched who had either been part of or attempting to join the Scions of Typhon. Seeing them there, she rubbed her hands together in anticipation. ¡°Mmmm, where to start¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey--hey!¡± The girl, Trove, snapped from where she was strapped down. ¡°You think you¡¯re hot shit because you tore apart some jackboot losers? Let us out of here and we¡¯ll show you a real fucking fight.¡±


    For a solid two or three seconds, Casura stared at her in silence. Then she doubled over, hysterical laughter erupting from the woman as she almost fell down. She laughed so hard she almost cried. And just as suddenly, that laughter was cut off entirely, silence returning to the trailer. Silence, save for the heavy breathing coming from all of the now-frantic and terrified strapped down former Scions.


    ¡°No, see, that¡¯s your problem,¡± she informed Trove and the rest. ¡°You all thought you were the big bads, truly epic villains. The truth is, you¡¯re not even mid-game bosses.¡± While speaking, the woman raised her hand, a motion that made all of the prisoners suddenly begin frantically blurting demands, promises, threats, anything they could say. She ignored all of it, speaking over them. ¡°What you really are¡­¡± Her hand closed into a fist, prompting the ceiling of the trailer to break itself apart into dozens of metal spikes, which lashed down through the prisoners. They were all impaled, their blood pooling together along the ground before floating over to be absorbed by Casura. She took every ounce of blood they had, and their powers along with it.


    ¡°... is lunch.¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-02

    It was weird, sleeping at the shop that night. Part of that was because I was using a sleeping bag in a corner instead of being in my own bed. And yes, the floor was a hell of a lot less comfortable than my mattress. But still, I¡¯d been camping before (Dad liked to take us out once in awhile to do things the way he remembered doing them back in his childhood), so this wasn¡¯t exactly the first time I¡¯d ever slept on the ground or floor.


    No, it definitely wasn¡¯t just the sleeping bag that was throwing me off. I was away from home, sleeping on the floor in a place that I¡¯d been to plenty during the--okay not just during the day, but at least not while everyone was trying to sleep. It was just different, lying down in this relatively unfamiliar area. My borrowed sleeping bag was set up in the main room of the shop, hidden behind the counter from anyone who might try to come in the front door. I was also sleeping in my costume for that very reason. Well, mostly in my costume. I was not actually going to try to sleep with my helmet on. The mask would have to do by itself. Probably nothing would happen anyway. Probably.


    That, of course, was another way this was all different. For pretty obvious reasons, I didn¡¯t tend to sleep in my costume at home. Sure, it wasn¡¯t like it was all that uncomfortable to do so. It was basically just a jumpsuit, gloves, and mask at this point. But I was pretty sure my parents would¡¯ve had a few questions if they found out I was cosplaying as Paintball while I was in bed. It was just a very bad idea all around.


    So yeah, it felt weird wearing the jumpsuit while trying to sleep like that, and so many other things were different too. The sounds were different, the smells were different, the air was different. Everything was just¡­ not wrong, but definitely not what my senses were accustomed to. As I sat there before lying down, I was convinced that I¡¯d never actually get to sleep. Or at least that it would take quite awhile. Tired as I was, this was too different.


    Aaaand then there was sunlight shining in my eyes while Paige gently shook my shoulder. I jolted a bit but she held a finger to her lips and shook her head before whispering softly. ¡°It''s okay, no problems, but we should probably get to school. You know, if you don''t want your brother to get suspicious. He''s probably going to check on you after what happened last night. If you don''t show up, they''ll investigate.¡±


    It took me a few seconds to process what she was saying and orient myself. Right, school. It was Friday morning. I probably wouldn''t have gotten away with the sleepover excuse, especially without giving any details, if my parents had been coherent. But this was my brother, and he was already incredibly overworked trying to keep up with everything the ministry had to deal with. I kind of doubted he cared that much about where I was sleeping for one night, as long as he could be relatively certain I was safe.


    Nodding my understanding, I whispered, ¡°So nothing happened while I was out?¡± We had made arrangements for all of us to rest. The Cuddle Corps (and seriously how wild was it that they were here?) had stayed up to watch over things. They had one member of their little group staring at the screen showing all the cameras that Wren had set up around the building and the neighborhood, while the others were scattered around to watch through windows and up on the roof. Between the six of them, they could cover many different angles. And apparently they had been fine with staying up like that for hours, since they weren''t tired. They tended to nap a lot while they were hiding out here in the shop, whenever they weren''t overhearing every single secret we had. Not to mention the fact that staying perfectly still didn¡¯t take up much energy.


    Paige straightened up, and I stood after her. Then she turned around while I grabbed my bag and changed clothes. I''d run through the shower for just a few minutes before crashing earlier, so that was going to have to do. While she was waiting for me to get dressed, Paige replied, ¡°If you''re asking if we had any visitors outside, no, everything was clear. And if you were asking if either Sierra or I decided to try to kill Pitman while you were asleep, that didn''t happen either. He''s still up there, safe and sound.¡±


    The words, and her tone, made me swallow before I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Hey,¡± I started softly, ¡°I know you''re right about how much easier and safer it would be if he was dead. He doesn''t deserve to live. Not after everything he''s done and is still trying to do. But I just¡­ I can''t let a helpless prisoner be executed. And he is helpless right now. We have him secured up there, about as powerless and exposed as it¡¯s possible to be. We can¡¯t just take advantage of that. Not--not right now. Not like this.¡± I hesitated before adding, ¡°And don''t forget, he''s only that helpless because of Wren. If we kill him right now, she''ll see it as her fault. We can''t do that to her. She''s just a kid. We can''t ask her to be okay with a man she basically tied down getting suffocated or shot in the back of the head or¡­ or whatever.¡± I felt uncomfortable even saying that.


    There was a long pause before Paige exhaled and turned to face. ¡°I think we''re going to regret that decision. But I won''t go against it. I promise, until we decide together that ending him is the best move, no execution. Fred even made sure he got water and a sort of smoothie thing for nourishment. It was uhh¡­ not the prettiest sight, but he¡¯s been fed, basically. And you don''t even want to know about the setup for the lower half. Suffice to say, it involves Wren¡¯s teleportation tech.¡±


    I made a face at that and shuddered. By then, I was dressed, and two of us headed through the shop quietly. Wren and Fred may have been in their own rooms, and I was pretty sure Qwerty was in with one of them as well, but we were trying not to wake up Sierra, Murphy, or Roald, who were scattered around in their own sleeping bags just in case things went down. The latter two had let Roald¡¯s sister know where they would be (another reason among many that having Rubi in on things was very useful), since their school was already out for the summer. Peyton¡¯s wasn¡¯t, and her mom never would¡¯ve agreed to letting her sleep at the shop anyway. So she had gone home for the evening.


    Part of me felt nervous about even going to school now, when anything could happen here. But Paige was right, if I skipped there was a good chance that Simon would find out. And I really didn¡¯t want to have to try to deal with that. Wren was here in the shop that she had already set up with every defense she could. And she had Fred, Qwerty, Murphy, Roald, Sierra, and the entire Cuddle Corps here. It would have to do. Paige was going with me because the school was paying extra attention to the students right now considering it was so close to the end of the year. We had today, then the weekend, followed by three days of finals. By the end of Wednesday next week, school would be over for the next few months. Which meant at least one distraction would be out of the way. I could hardly wait to find out what would end up replacing it.


    In any case, the two of us headed for the back door. Oak was there with the door cracked, peering down the alley. And yes, seeing the two foot tall stuffed turtle peeking through the crack to play lookout made me smile. God, I could understand why so many people wanted to hug them all the time. But I restrained myself and simply spoke up quietly. ¡°Hey, thanks for watching over the place all night.¡±


    Unfortunately, we¡¯d apparently taken him by surprise because Oak jumped and spun to face us, one hand up against his chest. ¡°Ah! Oh, it¡¯s just you. I mean--ahem.¡± Straightening up, he gave a quick salute. ¡°Just doing our job, ma¡¯--uhh should I say ma¡¯am or sir? Not only do you portray a man in your guise, but from what they¡¯ve said around here, you¡¯re also--ahh--umm¡­ not¡­ straight forward either way? I¡¯ve read about sa¡¯am being batted around as a possibility, but frankly, I¡¯m not really a fan.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I shrugged. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s kinda bad. But just call me whatever you like, either-or, or just my name, Paintball or Cassidy. In public, I mean, if we ever get to that point, talk to Paintball-me like I¡¯m a boy. It¡¯s all just way too complicated.¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°No arguments here!¡± the small, fuzzy turtle agreed. ¡°But you¡¯re going to school now, huh? I wish I could go to school.¡± He lamented that with a heavy sigh. ¡°We tried that for a little bit, but uhh, it didn¡¯t work out. We were too distracting, so they gave us private tutors, and it¡¯s just not the same experience.¡±


    Giving Paige a brief glance, I turned back to him. ¡°You guys are¡­ uh, what, like ten years old?¡±


    He straightened up to his full height of two feet, proudly adjusting his tweed suit. ¡°Ahem, that¡¯s a bit different. Most of us are eleven years old. Aspen is, certainly. And most of us came into being with the same psychological age. Cherry is the youngest of us, having¡­ joined us most recently. She is our Small. We don¡¯t know her exact equivalent age, but¡­ young. Meanwhile, if she is the youngest of us, I am the opposite. I feel and behave as the elder member of the group. It¡¯s my job to be the wise one. I believe I may be as old as thirteen.¡± He let that hang for a moment, then offered a very cute stuffed turtle grin before audibly snickering.


    I couldn''t help but chuckle a little along with him. Paige and I looked at one another again and I knew we were thinking the same thing. So I turned back to him and asked, ¡°Well, why don''t you come to school with us today? I mean, I know it''s not exactly the same as being able to go to your own school for your own age and everything, but it''s something at least? You can stay in my backpack.¡±


    Looking regretful, Oak replied, ¡°I''m afraid I can only be a short distance away from the rest of my family before being pulled back to them. We are fine to spread throughout the building, and even the city block, but going all the way to this school of yours would be impossible.¡±


    I started to tell him if that was too bad, before stopping. ¡°Actually, you know what, there might be a way we can do it after all.¡± I explained about the linked bags that Wren had made, where I stored my costume. ¡°If we had you stay close to the bag that I keep on me with it open, while the other bag is here in the shop, maybe that would give you a way to go with us. It''s worth a shot, anyway, right? Besides, if you need to, you can always get back to the shop through the bag.¡±


    Oak was staring at us incredulously. ¡°Ah, you know, I think you''re right, that might just work. Wait, do you really think we could do something like that?¡±


    Shrugging, I replied, ¡°Well, you¡¯d have to stay in my backpack, so it would probably be a little bit of a tight squeeze for you. I don''t know if you''re interested in sitting in a cramped bag listening to teachers all day long. You¡¯d have to keep quiet.¡±


    ¡°They''re good at pretending to be toys,¡± Paige pointed out. ¡°It''s the last couple days before school ends. Nobody''s going to give you a hard time for having a stuffed animal with you if he sits on your desk.¡±


    That was a good point, so I gave her a quick nod. ¡°Yeah, that''s true. I¡¯ve seen people goofing off in there for the past couple weeks. Shouldn''t be a problem.¡± To Oak, I added, ¡°I mean, like I said, you still couldn''t move or anything. And actually, the more I talk about it, the more it sounds like it would probably be pretty boring and annoying for you. Sorry, I guess I wasn''t really thinking--¡±


    Oak, however, quickly interrupted. ¡°It sounds wonderful! Yes, I can keep still, I promise.¡± He made a motion as though crossing his heart. I won''t let you down, captain!¡±


    Paige looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling just a little. ¡°You know what, I have an idea to make this even more safe. Do you think you can get to school on your own? I''ve got a quick trip to make.¡±


    Well, that was curious. Still, it was obvious she wanted whatever it was to be a surprise, so I nodded and said I-- or we, considering Oak was coming-- would take a rideshare over there.


    Oak took a minute with the rest of his family, explaining what was going on. He really was excited about it. This poor kid just wanted to go to school and he was so deprived of it that the idea of simply going along with me and staying silent and motionless through class after class was making him giddy.


    It was both cute and a little sad. It made me think about what their lives had been like for so long.


    Obviously, the other members of the Cuddle Corps were interested in this trick we were going to try out with the linked bags. They all gathered around the one that was kept back at the shop, with Cherry asking if they could talk to Oak through it. I made sure they knew they were definitely allowed to whisper to him, and vice versa, they just had to be ready to keep quiet if anyone was paying too much attention. They, in turn, assured me that they could communicate silently.


    And with that, once they all had a bit of an emotional hug (yes they would still be connected through the costume bag but this was definitely the closest any of them had been to being totally separated from the others) I put him in my backpack along with that open Tech-Touched bag, leaving it a little bit unzipped so I could talk to him quietly while we walked out the alley and down the street to wait for a ride a couple blocks away.


    With each step, it was clear that he expected to be yanked back to the shop. Honestly, I was kind of holding my breath too, uncertain if this would work. But it did. He was in my backpack with me (I had to take basically everything else out of there so he could fit), but with the Wren bag in there too and open, he still had a direct link to the shop where the others were.


    While hanging out waiting for that car to show up, I asked Oak a little bit about his family. Things had always been a little vague on where exactly they came from and what they were, both in general and to each other. Everyone just called them a family. Some thought they were literal stuffed animals who had touched all together, but they were a family of siblings who touched at the same time with similar results, and others thought plenty of different things.


    Oak, however, explained that they were what was known as a System. They had originated as a single girl, the one named Aspen. But even before Touching, Aspen had manifested other people within her mind. I wasn''t exactly sure how that worked, but that''s how it was. They were individuals sharing the same body. At least, they had been until they touched. Then they had all been put into the different bodies of the stuffed animals in their room.


    Yeah, it sounded complicated and confusing. But I was glad they had at least been able to get their own bodies. Oak, for his part, sounded a little¡­ Well, not sad exactly, but contemplative. He said there were upsides and downsides to having different bodies, and that sometimes they joined together into their combined form just to have that experience again. The way he described it was sort of like a very strong and lingering hug. They were all together in the same space, all linked in a way that couldn''t be adequately described or explained. It was an incredibly deep connection that only people in that sort of situation could understand fully, apparently.


    Still, even if I couldn''t fully understand it, I got the general idea, and I could tell it meant a lot to him. Even then, however, he assured me that they were happier having the choice to separate or be together. They would always be close to another, especially considering the fact that they couldn''t get too far away from one another without being yoinked back. But it was more than that. They were something even closer than siblings. They had a deep emotional connection.


    Yeah, I was glad they were here. We were going to have to do something for them to help in the long run. No way would I be okay with simply sending them back to their old home when this was over. They deserved a lot better than that.


    Eventually, we made it to the school, and I immediately found out what Paige¡¯s plan had been. It was readily apparent, considering she was standing there in the front entranceway, smiling at her own work. She''d beaten us there, despite the stop she had to make. A stop at a toy store or ten, as it turned out.


    Her plan, apparently, had been to buy every single Cuddle Corps stuffed animal she could get her hands on, and hand them out all over the school. The entire front foyer and connecting hallways were full of students holding, tossing around, and just generally playing with those stuffed animals. Which might''ve seemed a little odd for highschoolers, but Paige had set up a table with a large sign saying they were for emotional support leading into finals.


    Wow, just wow. Taking all that in, I watched her while she looked over and gave me a wink. I reflexively started to walk over to join her, only to realize that was a bad idea. As far as other people knew, Paige and I were still¡­ not exactly friends. It might look weird for me to go over and just start chatting.


    So, I simply unzipped my bag and pulled out my little turtle friend, holding him up against my chest. No one even looked my way, since there were at least seven other tweed-wearing turtles within my eyeline, let alone other members of the Corps.


    ¡°Well, Oak,¡± I murmured very softly while barely moving my lips as I let him take in the sight before us, ¡°hope you¡¯re ready for a long, boring day at school.


    ¡°Because boy, I sure am.¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-03

    Moments later, I walked through the school hallway while watching several dozen other people scattered around with their own Cuddle Corps members. Though I was going to go out on a limb and say theirs weren''t as realistic as mine. I held Oak under one arm, having replaced his normal toy glasses with a pair of sunglasses from the front pocket of my bag. The lenses were dark enough that his eyes could move around without attracting attention. That way we didn''t have to worry about someone spotting him looking at things. Granted, it probably wouldn''t have been hard to say it was just a toy thing, but still. This was already dangerous enough, there was no reason to risk any more.


    Tomas was standing by his own locker as I approached mine, turning to look at me with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Hey, Cass. I didn''t know you had a thing for those guys.¡± He nodded toward Oak.


    Glancing down briefly, I shrugged. ¡°I dunno, they''re pretty cool. I mean, they were just handing them out in front, so why not?¡± I hesitated slightly before swallowing. ¡°It''s kind of been a long few days.¡±


    The boy grimaced. ¡°Shit, I''m sorry, Cassie. I still can''t believe you''re still coming to school and everything when all this is going on. If my parents were hit by Sleeptalk, I don''t¡­ I don''t know what I''d do. But I wouldn¡¯t be passing my classes.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Trust me, I don''t really know what I''m doing either. Just taking it a little bit at a time and waiting, I guess. Mostly I¡¯m trying to get through the last bit of the semester. If this little guy can help with that, all the more power to him.¡±


    Tomas hesitated slightly before offering, ¡°I feel like maybe I shouldn''t say this, because it might make you do something drastic to that poor toy, but just in case, you should know that Paige was the one handing all those out. I saw her setting up the table out front a few minutes ago. But please don''t throw the poor guy away or anything, I''m sure she''s just trying to help people.¡±


    Oh, right, that whole thing about people thinking that Paige and I still hated each other. Before all that had changed, before everything in my life had changed, I might have actually thought that she set this whole thing up to trick me into taking one of these toys that would explode into slime or something. No wonder he was nervous about me finding out.


    Yeah, we were definitely going to have to do something about that. We needed to come up with a way for Paige and me to talk at school without everyone being suspicious. Or maybe I was just overthinking the whole thing and no one would give a shit. Still, my parents knew about our problems and I didn''t want to do anything that could possibly stand out in their minds since they knew Paige was aware of the Ministry. Actually, that gave me a couple ideas. Maybe the right idea was to get them to insist she make up with me. Hmmm¡­ But now it wasn''t the right time to focus on that.


    Instead, I hugged the turtle a little bit and replied, ¡°Don''t worry, I already went over him with a fine-tooth comb. If Paige was trying to nail me with something, I must''ve taken the wrong one. Anyway, I''m not going to take our problems out on him. He''s the one that''s going to get me through finals.¡±


    Tomas gave me a relieved grin. ¡°Hey, whatever works. I''m just glad I won''t have to be a witness to you killing one of the Ohio Minority. Even if it is a toy version. I don''t think that¡¯d go over very well. And hey, as far as him helping you get through the rest of the semester goes, that''s what you need, sounds good to me. Like I said, I don''t know what I''d do if my parents were in that situation. But I don''t think I''d actually make it to my classes. So you''re doing better than I would.¡±


    There was so much I wanted to say to that. Not to mention all the strange feelings and paranoia that kept trying to boil to the surface. There was a part of me that immediately thought he was fishing for information, trying to find out how much I knew about all that. My brain just kept poking at everything he was saying, trying to convince the rest of me that he already knew too much, that he was toying with me.


    No, he wasn''t. He didn''t know anything about this shit, and he wasn''t poking at me to get a reaction or test if I knew more than I should. He was just expressing concern, that was all. I had to knock it off.


    Realizing I was squeezing Oak just a little too tight, I relaxed my arm and gave a little nod. Fortunately, the specific subject we were talking about meant me having an emotional reaction made perfect sense. I didn''t have to hide that completely.


    Instead, I forced a very weak, somewhat shaky smile. ¡°Are you kidding, when my parents wake up, the first thing they''re going to ask is how school is going. And if I tell them I blew off the last bit of the year, they¡¯ll make me wish I was the one who was in a Tech-Touched coma.¡±


    It was a weak joke, if it could even be counted as one, my voice cracking a little as I said it. Then I exhaled heavily and looked at him. ¡°They''re going to be okay? They''ll all be okay?¡± Did my voice sound more like I was asking a question rather than telling him because I intentionally wanted to sound like I didn''t know what was going on exactly, or because I was really scared and wanted him to reassure me? Was there that much of a difference at this point?


    For his part, Tomas reached out to take my free hand, squeezing it a bit while looking into my eyes. Not so long ago, that would¡¯ve sent my heart into a spin. But now, there was¡­ well, not no reaction. He was still a very handsome boy, but I just didn¡¯t¡­ feel that way about him anymore.


    ¡°Of course they will, Cassie. You know they''ve got the biggest brains in the country taking care of it. And now they know it came from that Cup bint. I mean, that''s what the news said anyway. I doubt they''d say something like that if they weren''t sure. They know who made the stuff, and they have her in custody. She doesn''t have any other tricks. They''ll make her go tell them how to fix it.¡±


    Oh boy, did I really not want to assume that Amanda Sanvers didn''t have any more tricks. That would go very, very poorly. But I kept quiet on that front. I was supposed to be a na?ve little nobody who was clueless about stuff like that.


    I was still trying to figure out exactly how to respond when Arleigh walked right up and put one arm around me from the other side. It came so suddenly I jumped a bit, before grimacing inwardly as she loudly spoke up. ¡°Aww, you''ve got an Oak! And we''re practically siblings, see?" With that, she held up a toy figure of Ash, shaking it for me. ¡°Turtles are okay, I guess, but dragons breathe fire. So I guess you could get a fire breathing turtle?¡± The girl pondered that briefly with her arm still around me before shrugging. ¡°Well, whatever, that one doesn''t. His forcefields are okay, but I think being able to attack is better. I bet if it came down to it, Ash could kick his ass.¡±


    Was I just imagining the way Oak slightly shifted in my arm? Probably, but either way, I gave him a little squeeze before speaking up. ¡°They''re family,¡± I pointed out while managing to twist around to get away from the girl¡¯s arm so I could face her. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they''re not gonna start fighting each other.¡±


    Arleigh gave me an utterly blank look at the very suggestion that families wouldn''t fight. Then she laughed and shook her head. ¡°Yeah, okay, sure. Anyway, did you guys hear about the vandals?¡±


    Oh thank God, a subject change. Even better, she hadn''t moved to touch me again. Would it really be that bad if I punched her in the nose the next time she grabbed me? It wouldn''t stand out to my parents too much if I was suspended for fighting the daughter of one of the Fell gang leaders, right?


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    While I was shoving that thought out of my head, Tomas spoke up. ¡°What do you mean? What vandals?¡±


    Arleigh, in turn, proceeded to tell us all about the fact that some people, probably students from another school or something, had managed to get in here the night before and broke through several walls upstairs before getting into the server room in the library and wiping out a bunch of records as well as the security recordings. Apparently they had put graffiti up on some of the walls and took a bunch of test materials out of the secure storage room the faculty used.


    Through all that, I idly wondered if she knew the actual truth. Would whoever was running the Ministry right now have told the gang leaders what actually happened in their attempt to get any more details that might be out there? I didn¡¯t really think so, given there didn¡¯t seem to be any particular benefit to it, but then again, I barely knew anything about their inner workings.


    Okay, no, I was pretty sure she didn¡¯t know anything about what happened. There was little reason for the gangs to be told. It went directly against the Ministry¡¯s desire to keep the whole situation covered up. The only thing I could think of was that they might want to tell them to watch out for Biolem replacements, but even that seemed a bit flimsy. They could tell them that without getting into details, if they were even going to.


    Which, of course, was when I realized why I was even thinking about this. Ryder. They had to know he had been there, and that he left without getting his memory erased. So they probably assumed he would tell Blackjack everything. Or, well, as much as the Ministry themselves knew, anyway. So maybe they would at least get La Casa on board. They were probably low on manpower with everything going on, and now that they knew about Pittman having--


    Pittman. Why hadn¡¯t the Ministry contacted us about him yet? They had to know we had him. And I hadn¡¯t gotten any calls or messages from Wren or the others. Yes, it wasn¡¯t even nine in the morning yet, but still. I kept expecting to feel at least one of my phones start buzzing in my pocket with messages and calls letting me know the shop was surrounded. But there was--


    Wait, what was I doing? Oh, Arleigh, vandalism, cover-up, blah blah blah.


    Tomas was shaking his head by the end of her little story. ¡°Well, bollocks. But doesn''t it make more sense that they''d be students from this school? I mean, if they stole tests and wiped out some academic records, that seems like people from this place trying to cheat or whatever.¡±


    I was absolutely certain that Arleigh was faking her surprise as much as she had been pretending that hadn''t been the first thing that occurred to her. ¡°Ohhh shit, do you really think someone from our school could do that?¡± She turned a bit to look up and down the hallway with an air of suspicion. ¡°But like, who would bother? Seriously, I¡¯m in the records room for my office elective, and I¡¯m telling you guys, no one here is doing badly enough in class to risk a breaking and entering charge, let alone all the random vandalism. Seriously, what¡¯s up with that? Breaking holes through a few classroom walls and spray-painting a bit? Then they manage to get into the server room so they can take all the security footage and the tests? There¡¯s something weird about that, isn¡¯t there? It¡¯s like they¡¯re dumb nobody vandals when they break a few walls and put up shitty graffiti, but then they magically transform into expert hackers who know exactly where they¡¯re going and how to cover up their identities. And why do that shit anyway? They¡¯re leaving obvious signs they were here but then taking the security tapes? If they didn¡¯t want to be recognized they could just wear masks. None of that makes sense.¡±


    Well, now she had my attention. Where the hell had all that come from? Was I just too dismissive of Arleigh because she tended to be annoying and rude? Clearly she wasn¡¯t stupid. Was the way she acted here at school also a front? I knew she put on an act as Clime, pretending to be a nature loving flower girl type, but was she faking her basic personality here as well? Why would she suddenly drop that to start questioning the vandal story? Unless her dad was pushing her hard to find out more because he knew something was wrong with it.


    Shaking that off, I forced myself to shrug. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s part of some sort of prank. I dunno. I¡¯ve got class though.¡± Anything to get away from this conversation. I already had too much to think about as it was. I didn¡¯t need to spend even more time with Arleigh.


    So, after mumbling something about needing to talk to the teacher, I made my escape. Part of me felt bad about abandoning Tomas like that, but he¡¯d probably survive. And if he didn¡¯t, I¡¯d send his dad a nice card.


    Or maybe I¡¯d just forget.


    Once we were far enough away from them (I glanced over my shoulder to make sure neither were following), I spoke up quietly without moving my lips much. Not that it mattered since no one was close or paying any attention to me, but better safe than sorry. Especially in a case like this. ¡°The guy was Tomas, my uhh, my ex-boyfriend before he went back to the UK for awhile. His dad¡¯s¡­ you know, the guy who erased my memory. The girl was Arleigh, I¡¯m pretty sure her dad¡¯s making her try to befriend me because he¡¯s the leader of the Sherwood gang. And she¡¯s one of them. He wants her to kiss up to me because he thinks I¡¯ll be part of the Ministry or something.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Oak¡¯s quiet voice came just as I started up the back stairwell (the same one Peyton and I had used the night before, near the secret Ministry tunnel, actually). ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware, but your life is very complicated. And this is coming from a singular member of a multi-person System who happens to be inhabiting a stuffed animal with the ability to spontaneously generate and manipulate forcefields. I have a high threshold for complicated.¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I gave him a little squeeze. ¡°Trust me, I know. You sure you¡¯re gonna be okay just sitting still through this whole class?¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± he replied in a voice that was very serious, ¡°I shall remain perfectly still. It¡¯s actually rather simple for us to do so for extended periods. We don¡¯t experience the same urge to move and fidget that people in human bodies do. Well, most of us don¡¯t. Ash is a bit of an exception, as he is to most things.¡± There was obvious fondness there, at least as much as there was exasperation. He cared about his brother a lot, that much was obvious.


    Giving him a quick squeeze, I nodded just a bit. ¡°I¡¯m kind of glad to have someone with me right now, just¡­ yeah, be careful.¡± That was all I could say. I knew this was dangerous, in so many ways. Maybe it was stupid to bring him here, but¡­ fuck it, he wanted to be here, and I needed someone with me right now. We would be careful. And with what Paige had done, me having one of the Cuddle Corps wouldn¡¯t actually stand out anyway. There were plenty of others walking around with their own toy versions. This was the last day of regular school before three half-days of finals next week, so the teachers weren¡¯t bothered by it. Some of them had already checked out almost as much as the students had.


    Making it to the English hallway, I saw a dozen or so students gathered around the doorway into the classroom where I¡¯d left the hole the night before. They were all talking and pointing, so I took a breath before starting that way with a confused, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Oh hey, Cass,¡± San turned my way, his appearance reminding me that I still didn¡¯t know what was going on with that list of names Maki had. ¡°You seen the damage those guys did last night?¡± He stepped aside a bit so I could look at what turned out to be a couple holes in the walls (I only left one, but apparently the Ministry decided to put in more to cover up the reasoning behind it or something), along with some very¡­ elaborate graffiti all over the walls. The sight made me blanch. They had really wanted to make it look like vandals had broken in.


    ¡°Probably somebody doing shit on a dare or something,¡± San was saying.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t sully the good name of dares,¡± I retorted reflexively. ¡°Dares are doing fun, dangerous and awesome stuff, not breaking into a school to do a bunch of damage and steal shit.¡±


    With a laugh, San promised not to say such blasphemous things anymore. Then the two of us headed for class. On the way, he complimented my Oak ¡®doll¡¯ before becoming the second person to ask if I was okay with it coming from Paige. Yeah, we were definitely gonna have to do something about that.


    For the moment, I simply found my seat before carefully setting Oak on my lap so he could watch the teacher without shifting around. With those sunglasses, his eyes were hidden. We were ready to go.


    Now please, please could I get through the rest of this school day without any other major issues or interruptions? I would totally buy the universe a box of cookies if it could do me a solid on that.


    Maybe two boxes.

 Learning Lessons 31-04

    Wonder of wonders, we actually did get through the next several periods without any issues. The incredibly paranoid part of me (so, the majority) kept expecting some dramatic problem to pop up every time a bell rang, the intercom buzzed, or someone slammed a locker a bit too loudly. The girl sitting behind me in third period dropped her book on the floor and I nearly hit her in the face with a shot of blue paint before catching myself. Boy would that have been an embarrassing way to expose my secret identity or what? I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to talk my way out of that one.


    It was just slightly possible that I was a little high-strung. I could probably use some sort of vacation. But I wasn''t even sure how I would go about applying for time off from all this. Was there a form I needed to fill out, or some sort of waiting list? Crap, if there was a waiting list, I¡¯d definitely be all the way at the bottom. Maybe I¡¯d get a vacation sometime in the next ten years.


    At least things were quiet so far. And Paige¡¯s plan to cover up the fact that I had the real Oak with me was working perfectly. Actually, it was working even better than she had thought, considering some other students had gotten jealous of the ones who had the stuffed animals Paige had brought, so they had gone out on their free period or at lunch to bring in more. And not just of the Cuddle Corps. The whole school was full of a variety of plush toys of all shapes and sizes, and it was so late, so near the end of the school year, that none of the teachers even cared. This was basically the last day of ¡®lessons,¡¯ which was a term I was using very loosely, considering half the teachers were playing classroom games, showing movies, or allowing free study time for finals next week. There wasn¡¯t much in the way of normal teaching going on. Which I kind of felt bad about since that was something Oak wanted to see, but when I quietly asked him about that, he said he was enjoying just seeing other students and sitting in a real classroom for a little while without being mobbed by everyone. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t love his powers and what they allowed him to do, he just wished he could turn it off sometimes and not have to be the center of attention constantly.


    All in all, having stuffed animals sitting around wasn''t really affecting anything other than to make some of my classmates a little happier. Which, considering everything going on in the city, we all needed. I wasn''t the only person who had been affected by someone being hit with Sleeptalk, or the resulting quarantine. Not to mention the rising levels of violence both those things had caused.


    Of course, I couldn''t make it through the entire day without something unexpected popping up. But in this case, it wasn''t one of the Fell gangs attacking, or anything like that. No, this was a very different sort of situation. I was sorting through books in my locker before my last class, with Oak sitting on the top shelf so he could watch people passing by. I felt movement near me and realized someone was reaching over my shoulder toward where he was. Quickly, I spun around and snapped my hand up to grab the person¡¯s wrist before they could touch him. Only belatedly did I realize that it was this tall, smug girl with frizzy brown hair and pale skin named Mandy Delane. She had been part of Paige¡¯s little posse during all that time that the other girl had spent antagonizing me for her dad¡¯s stupid plan. One of her more enthusiastic minions, actually. I was pretty sure she wasn''t faking it like Paige. No, in her case, she was pretty much just a bitch. I was kind of surprised she¡¯d been so quiet lately, to be honest. Maybe I was just too distracted to notice her. I wanted to go back to that.


    Gasping as I grabbed her wrist so unexpectedly, the taller girl glared at me. ¡°Isn''t it enough that your family is so rich you could buy everything and everyone in this school like ten times over? I really don''t see why you have to go around stealing shit that doesn''t belong to you, bitch.¡±


    Well now I was confused. Releasing her hand while giving her a little push back so she wouldn''t keep trying to grab Oak, I shook my head. ¡°Dude, I have no idea what you''re talking about. And to be honest, I kind of don''t care. I''m not gonna play this game right now. Whatever it is, whatever stupid joke you''re playing, just go away and bother someone else. I never stole anything.¡±


    ¡°Oh please,¡± she shot back. ¡°I know you had that cute little turtle back in first period, before anyone other than Paige brought them. And there¡¯s not a single chance in hell she would¡¯ve given one of those things to you. You must¡¯ve taken him from someone else because you were jealous that Paige brought something you couldn¡¯t have, so just give him back already.¡± She tried to use her greater height to reach over my head so she could grab the little guy again, while making a scoffing sound.


    Boy did I have neither the time nor energy for this stupid bullshit. Before the girl could get her hand on Oak, I kicked my foot backward to hit the locker door so it would close. I felt a little rude for slamming it shut on the little guy like that, but I had to deal with this first. Just to be on the safe side, I dropped my backpack next to the locker so the special Wren bag inside would stay close enough to Oak that he wouldn¡¯t end up getting yanked back to the shop with his siblings. Not only because he wanted to be here right now, but also because if I did have to open my locker again while Mandy was around, Oak having just vanished would probably attract a little attention.


    Yanking her fingers back after they were nearly caught in the locker, the girl gave me a hard glare. ¡°Oh really? You¡¯re gonna try to claim that you just happened to bring one of the Cuddle Corps toys, for no apparent reason, to school on the exact same day that Paige brought all the others? It has nothing to do with you being jealous and grabbing one of them because she wouldn¡¯t let you have it? You¡¯re gonna say you weren¡¯t being a selfish, spoiled bitch about the whole thing, like usual? What was your other option, throw your pocket change at the principal and tell him to make an announcement that the toys aren¡¯t allowed in school anymore?¡±


    For a moment, I just stared that way before letting out a long, low breath. ¡°Okay, there is a hell of a lot to unpack in there, and I¡¯d rather just pitch the entire Samsonite set overboard, because I never agreed to this trip in the first place. Let''s just stick with the fact that this is completely, one hundred percent none of your business. I didn''t steal anything. Besides, you said it yourself, I have plenty of money. If I wanted that thing and couldn''t get it from Paige, don''t you think I would''ve just bought it from someone? I''m not sure how you jump from ¡®you¡¯re so rich you could buy anything you want¡¯ to ¡®you must have stolen that toy,¡¯ but I really don''t care either. Unless you''ve got someone who says I stole it from them, maybe you should just fuck off and go find someone else to throw stupid accusations at.¡±


    Honestly, I really was getting tired of needing to act as though Paige and I were still enemies. Part of that was that I wanted to be able to talk to her at school without raising so many questions, but another part was that the idea of people thinking I didn''t like Paige, or that she didn''t like me, made me weirdly uncomfortable. I couldn¡¯t explain why, exactly, and I definitely didn''t know why it bothered me as much as it did, but there it was. I didn''t want all these people to think Paige and I still hated each other. And yes, I realized how little that actually mattered, but I couldn''t help it. Mandy coming over and accusing me of stealing just because she found it impossible to believe that Paige would let me have a toy just reinforced that whole thing.


    The problem, as it had been from the start of all this, was that Paige and I had basically been at one another''s throats for so long that everyone would find it weird if we suddenly started getting along for no apparent reason. They¡¯d never believe that we just randomly buried the hatchet and started being friends, not after everything that we¡¯d been through. We needed to come up with a story that wouldn''t be so suspicious. Especially when it came to the Ministry. If it was just kids at school, I really wouldn''t care what they thought. But my parents, when they woke up, would know that something was going on. After all, they were fully aware that Paige knew about the Ministry and all that. If they found out that the two of us were friends, I was pretty sure they''d decide she was trying to get close to me in order to get close to them. Which would absolutely convince them that she knew too much and couldn''t be trusted anymore. Not that they actually trusted her all that much to begin with. It wouldn''t take much for them to decide something finally needed to be done about that. Especially if they decided that she might be using me for her own ends.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    I still had that vague thought about getting my parents to order Paige to make up with me, but I wasn¡¯t sure how to go about that. And they were still¡­ not available.


    Speak of the devil, a phrase I probably would have meant more literally not so long ago, Paige herself stepped up while Mandy was still trying to decide how to respond. ¡°Well, what exactly do we have here?¡± Her voice was smooth and faintly curious, but I could tell she had been listening to that whole thing. Which made me blush a bit as I wondered how long she had been nearby.


    Mandy looked relieved to have backup, shooting me a smug look. ¡°There you are. I was just trying to get that Oak toy back for whoever the spoiled bitch here took it from. Do you know who¡¯s missing one?¡± She was already looking up and down the hallway as though certain she would see some random person frantically trying to find their missing Cuddle Corps plushy.


    Paige¡¯s gaze slipped toward me briefly while Mandy was looking around, our eyes meeting. I saw a flicker of uncertainty pass through the other girl as she tried to decide how to deal with this. That was when I realized she was having the same problem as me. She didn¡¯t want everyone to think we were still enemies either. She wanted to talk to me at school, wanted to be able to have a conversation without the entire student and faculty population deciding something was horribly wrong. She wanted to stop and chat in the freaking hallway without being afraid that something as simple as that would expose all our secrets to the Ministry. After all, they had to have agents around here, teachers or even one of the janitors. If we suddenly started acting like we were buddy-buddy, the Ministry would find out about it and would start wondering what was actually going on. She hated needing to keep up this whole stupid ruse as much as I did.


    Actually, she hated it even more. Because she¡¯d been faking the whole hating me thing from the very start. She was the one who had been forced into it. And now that she wasn¡¯t under her father¡¯s thumb anymore, she still had to keep going with it just because we couldn¡¯t raise suspicions. She was being ¡®controlled¡¯ in a more subtle, but no less effective way. There had to be something we could do about that, some way to fix the situation.


    But before either of us could come up with anything, and before Mandy managed to spot someone she could claim Oak had been stolen from, the bell rang again. We only had a minute or two to get to class. Paige immediately rolled her eyes and took Mandy by the arm. ¡°Come on, it''s just a toy, not worth screwing around and getting a fucking tardy slip for.¡± Before the other girl could object, she started walking away, pulling her along. Even as Mandy began babbling at her about how I must have taken that toy from someone, Paige looked over her shoulder at me. Once again, our eyes met, and I felt that familiar weird, anxious sensation pass through me. She smiled, just a tiny bit, not enough to attract attention or anything. A faint curving of her lips. Immediately, I found myself returning the expression. I just stood there in the hallway smiling faintly to match Paige¡¯s lingering look. Then the crowd of other students rushing for their own classes filled in the space, blocking her from view, and I shook that whole thing off.


    Right, final period, time to go. Turning back to my locker quickly, I opened it up and took Oak out while murmuring an apology to him about that whole thing. He assured me in an almost-silent voice that he was fine, and I carried the little guy with me to my last class of the day.


    As though I needed more proof that people would pay attention if Paige and I suddenly started getting along after all this time, Amber was sitting next to me in that class and she immediately asked about what had happened. Not out loud, obviously. We couldn¡¯t really get into it in front of everyone, not even by whispering. Instead, we texted one another while sitting side by side. She asked if everything was okay, and let me know everyone was talking about how Paige and I had nearly gotten into a fist fight over whose toys these actually were. Even though Paige herself had only barely been there at all and most of the confrontation had been with Mandy (which itself hadn¡¯t been anywhere near an actual fight either), somehow the rumor mill already had Paige and me practically rolling up and down the hallway punching one another. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with people? And just how fast was the freaking gossip chain around here?


    After letting Amber know everything was fine and that people were just exaggerating (as usual), I asked how she was doing with the whole Whamline thing. She didn¡¯t respond at first, staring straight ahead while tightly gripping the sides of her desk. The teacher was giving us free time to study and finish up any other assignments for whatever class we wanted, but Amber didn¡¯t have any books out. She was just staring straight ahead at the wall. It made me wonder if maybe I shouldn¡¯t have brought that whole thing up at all. Especially not here and now. Oops.


    In the end, however, Amber glanced over toward me before texting a quick, ¡®Not gr8, but getting there. Need time. Need¡­ a lot of things. Not sure what. Feel guilty. Feel stupid. Feel sick. Feel a lot. Trying to get through 1 day at a time.¡¯


    Honestly, I was just glad she didn''t try to tell me she was doing fine. Admitting she wasn''t suddenly okay meant she was actually processing it. At least that was the thought that immediately came to mind. But then, I wasn''t exactly a psychologist. Speaking of which, I really hoped she was seeing one. I couldn''t imagine the authorities ever letting her go out if she wasn''t, but then again, I was pretty sure they were basically desperate for Star-Touched out there to help keep things under control.  Still, I really hoped they would be smart enough to make her talk to someone who could help her get through all those feelings.


    And yes, I was ignoring the fact that I should probably be talking to some sort of professional too. Who the hell would I ever be able to talk to who could keep all this a secret and was qualified to help? Unless Fred or Rubi happened to have degrees in therapy, I was just going to have to suck it up and keep going. I had friends to talk to, I had Izzy at home. I had enough. I could deal with it.


    Besides, right now, dealing with it meant trying to come up with a way that Paige and I could interact without having everyone in the freaking city decide something was wrong. Yeah, school was almost over, but it would still be nice to have a way to hang out in public. There had to be something we could do about that whole thing.


    So, I spent basically the entire class period half-focusing on that while finishing up a couple last minute assignments. I¡¯d been pretty busy with all this going on, so my grades were¡­ well, they weren¡¯t awful. But if I wasn¡¯t careful, I might end up having problems with these upcoming finals. I just had to get through them, then it would be summer and I could focus on¡­ uhh, everything else that was going on.


    It was when class was almost over, as everyone including the teacher were watching the clock, that my phone buzzed. Glancing down, I read the message through twice before realizing what it said. Sitting up straight, I found myself reflexively blurting a surprised, ¡°Oh.¡±


    Yeah, that obviously made everyone turn to look at me. I sank in my seat, face pink as I mumbled something about remembering something I had to do, then buried my gaze in a random book until they looked away. Once they finally weren¡¯t paying attention anymore, I looked back to the message on my phone. A message from Sierra.


    You might want to hurry over to the shop as soon as the jailers let you go.


    We found out what those vials we stole from the M are for.

 Learning Lessons 31-05

    God, those mysterious vials with the coded labels. With everything else that was going on, I had barely thought about them lately. There were just¡­ so many other things to deal with. It felt like it had been a few years since we broke into the Ministry headquarters and stole all that stuff. And now the others had figured out what they were? Did that have anything to do with the Cuddle Corps being around? Somehow I doubted that, or Oak probably would¡¯ve been the one to tell me what was going on. Unless his family had wanted to surprise him too¡­ was that a thing?


    Yeah, I had no idea. What I did know was that I really needed to get to the shop and see what they were talking about. Even as I was gathering up my stuff and heading out, what little I did know about the vials was running through my head. There had been five of them. One had blue liquid in it, one a sort of brownish-black that looked gross, the third was bright amber, and the last two were both identical-looking purple. All of them had a long series of seemingly indecipherable number-letter codes, each different. Even the two identical purple vials had different labels. Paige and Sierra had both searched for any information on those letter-number combinations to no avail. At least, as far as I knew. Maybe something had finally come up on those searches.


    Resisting the urge to coax Oak into finding out everything that was going on, since it was obvious they wanted to talk about it in person, I all-but flew out of the school with the little guy snug in my backpack. San started to say something to me, but I shouted apologies and added something about really needing to check something out. Then I was gone, sprinting out the door and down the steps. Was that suspicious or something? Maybe a little weird or whatever, but eh, for all he knew, I wanted to check out a new skating spot. Or maybe I was going to visit my parents. Or--yeah, there were plenty of options that didn¡¯t get anywhere near what the actual truth was.


    And, to be honest, if San Francisco saw me running out the door and managed to connect that to Paintball and Avant Guard, he deserved to figure out who I really was. Because damn.


    Once I was far enough away from the school to slip into the alley and out of sight, I quickly changed into my costume behind an old dumpster. I was keeping an eye out for anyone coming, with some help from Oak, who crouched under the dumpster in a dry spot and stared out at the mouth of the alley just in case. While I was doing that, he asked what the whole thing with these vials was, so I gave him the quick version of that whole thing. Needless to say, he was intrigued, asking a series of questions all about exactly what they looked like, how thick they were--well the word he used was viscosity, whether they reacted to outside stimuli like changes in temperature or light or electrical shock, if we had touched the liquid inside at all, and plenty of other tests we could run.


    In the end, I was pretty sure he was at least a little disappointed when I admitted I didn¡¯t know much about what tests the others had done. But in my defense, there was that whole, ¡®being incredibly busy and distracted¡¯ thing. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like I knew much about science. The best I could have done was hold and move things, and it was far more likely that I would¡¯ve gotten in the way or distracted the others, who actually knew what they were doing.


    Yeah, this was the best way it could¡¯ve gone. The others did the smart stuff and then told me what they found out. If nothing else, that gave me the chance to ooh and aah over how smart they were, just like they deserved. Even if the lack of details on how they went about it did frustrate Oak a little bit. I was sure he could ask them what tests they ran once we got there.


    And speaking of ¡®once we got there,¡¯ as soon as I was changed, I scooped up my backpack and Oak once more before taking a running jump toward a spot of blue-green paint. Even as I managed to drop Oak in the bag and swing it onto my shoulders, my feet hit the paint, catapulting me into the air. A quick shot of red up toward the edge of the nearby roof sent me that way, where I sailed out over the building with a loud whoop of excitement. Seriously, even with everything that was going on, all the stress and confusion and¡­ all of it, the simple act of flying over rooftops, skating along the side of buildings, bounding from streetlight to billboard to water tower, and on and on was just¡­ the best. At one time, I had thought that getting some air off a ramp at the skatepark was the closest I would get to personally flying. But now? Now I could hit a good fifty or sixty miles per hour skating with some green-painted assistance, then hit a blue-green spot and activate it at the right second to fling myself into a series of flips and spins through the sky. It was¡­ it was absolutely incredible. The unbelievable freedom I felt in those moments was indescribable. Freedom as well as relief from worrying about my parents, the Ministry, and everything else. There was no chance to worry about all that. I had to focus on surviving each jump, on landing the right way, hitting the right spot with paint at the right time. My brain was solely devoted toward getting through each second without leaving me crippled and broken on the ground.


    Maybe some people would find that terrifying enough to never do this stuff. But for me, it was freeing. I loved the thrill and danger of it, as I always had. But now, it was even more necessary. It made me feel alive, and helped me forget about everything else I had to worry about.


    It also, in this particular case, helped take my mind off obsessively wondering about what the others had found out about those vials. I would find out the truth once I got there. Which, given the speed I managed to reach while practically flying over the rooftops, wouldn¡¯t take all that long.


    And in the end, it sure didn''t. I made it to the shop in what had to be record time, even though I still took a slightly roundabout path and watched for anyone who could have been following me. It was only a few minutes between when I jumped out of that alley and when I landed on the fire escape next to the shop. As the metal rattled under me, I caught myself against the railing. Panting heavily, I pulled the bag off my shoulders and took a look at where Oak¡¯s turtle head was still poking through the slight zipper opening I¡¯d left for him. ¡°Hey, you alive in there?¡± I had given the little guy a safeword to shout at me while we were doing all that if it was bothering him so I could slow down, but he hadn¡¯t said it. Actually, he hadn¡¯t said much of anything besides giving a few whoops alongside my own, or once when he asked if I really knew what I was doing.


    It took the turtle plushy a moment to respond. Then he reached out, caught the zipper, and pulled it open the rest of the way so he could straighten up. Adjusting his suit, the little guy stared at me before giving what was honestly an adorable giggle that sounded completely out of place from the way he typically depicted himself. His head bobbed a bit. ¡°I believe I can honestly say that was the most exciting few minutes of my not-at-all boring life. Ash and Willow will be so very jealous. They all will. But those two in particular. Be warned, you may be swarmed and overwhelmed with requests for more rides, if that¡¯s the way they always go. When you said you ran and skated through the rooftops, I truthfully never¡­ imagined anything quite like that.¡±


    Blushing a little under my helmet, I gave him a little poke in the nose. ¡°Well, all you guys have to do is ask. Believe me, I am totally up for taking any of you out on a run whenever we can. And if you think what we just did was fun, you should see what sort of wild ride I can put together when we don''t have a specific place to get to, and I''ve got more time to really get creative.¡± I was already getting a few ideas about how to impress them. I¡¯d taken the others with me on paint-runs, of course. But giving them green-speed and blue-jumps and all wasn¡¯t exactly the same as literally allowing someone to ride along on my back the way Oak just had. Or, hell, the way Qwerty had a little bit. And he had loved it about as much as Oak apparently did. Having Murphy or one of my other full-grown teammates riding on my back would¡¯ve been¡­ awkward. But with the Cuddle Corps and Qwerty? Yeah, that had some potential. I could totally take them for rides around the city, call it practice or whatever. Hmm¡­ yes, a lot of potential indeed.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    But right now, the potential I was really focused on was what those vials were capable of. Jumping down from the fire escape with just a little bit of orange paint to land without breaking my ankles, I headed in through that back door while waving toward the nearby camera. As soon as we passed inside and closed the door, I called out, ¡°Okay, just so you all know, if this whole secret of the vials thing was just an excuse to get me here faster so you can pawn some extra chores off on me, you¡¯re gonna have one very disappointed skater kid!¡±


    ¡°And a disappointed stuffed turtle!¡± Oak called out while poking his head up from the bag I was carrying. ¡°Granted, I quite literally only learned of the existence of these vials minutes ago, but still!¡±


    Yeah, I was definitely doing my best to distract myself from the fact that we still had Pittman upstairs. Not to mention the question of when and how exactly the Ministry was going to start demanding we hand him over. They had to know we had him by now. I have been expecting to get a phone call at any point. Maybe they knew I had to be going to school somewhere and were waiting until they figured I was free? In which case, that call would be coming any minute. I needed this distraction.


    And hey, who knew? Maybe whatever these vials were would have something to do with doing something about Pittman. That could be how they''d figured out what they were for. Sure, I had no idea what that could be, but then again, I didn''t know anything about them at all. Other than what color they were, and as I had rediscovered when being questioned by Oak, that wasn''t all that helpful.


    No sooner had those words escaped us then Wren came bounding down the nearby stairs, beckoning us to come with her. The little blonde girl¡¯s eyes were shining with excitement. ¡°Come on,¡± she urged before turning to run back up the stairs. ¡°You''ve gotta hear about this!¡±


    Okay, the fact that she was clearly excited and happy forestalled my fear that she wanted us to hurry because there was something wrong with Pittman. Exchanging a glance with Oak, I shrugged before heading that way. It made sense that they were doing science work upstairs in the lab, but I still couldn''t help but worry about them doing anything with the vials within a few feet of where that asshole was secured. I just didn''t like it, no matter how irrational it might have been. Yes, if anything had happened, someone would have sent the alert out to us. And even if they couldn¡¯t, Paige had been in constant contact with both Sierra and the security system here the whole time we were at school. She would have seen something and let me know.


    There were plenty of reasons to be confident that everything was fine. Or at least as fine as it could be under these circumstances. And yet, that didn¡¯t entirely silence the worried voice whispering in the back of my mind.


    Thankfully, the assortment of doom and gloom scenarios that kept popping up in my head while going up those stairs didn¡¯t come to pass. Pittman was still secured where he belonged right there on the bench, while Fred, Sierra, and Qwerty were standing around the other side of the room. Willow the penguin plushie was there too, while the rest of their group were scattered around the store as they continued to play lookouts just in case anything happened. Meanwhile, Paige and others weren¡¯t here yet, apparently. I had gotten here pretty quickly, I supposed.


    Giving the imprisoned man a brief look to assure myself even more that he was right there and nothing had changed, I spoke up, ¡°So, I hear you guys have been a bit busy today.¡± Pittman couldn¡¯t hear anything, not while he was stuck inside virtual reality. Apparently Wren had set up a program that would make him feel like he was sitting in a prison cell. Which was appropriate.


    And speaking of appropriate, Willow floated up on her hoverboard, revealing that the small penguin was dressed in a frankly adorable tiny lab coat and goggles that Wren had to have provided. I wasn¡¯t even sure where the Tech-Touched girl had gotten them, but somehow I wasn¡¯t at all surprised. Willow held both wings out to wave at us with a cheerful, ¡°Hiya Oak! We were doing science!¡±


    Qwerty bounded across the room to land on my shoulder. His little head bobbing rapidly up-and-down as he excitedly agreed, ¡°Yup, yup, yup! We were doing all the science at those pesky vials! They didn''t want to give up their secrets, but we gave them a left and then a right and then a headbutt and a tail thwap!¡± He was demonstrating while standing there on my shoulder, punching twice with his tiny paws before slamming his head forward and swinging his tail around. ¡°Oh, they still tried to hold out, the stubborn little things. But we scienced them into submission with a good chokehold! Cuz we are the champion scientists, and no dumb little vials full of color goo are gonna hold onto their secrets for long! They surrendered to our might!¡± With that, he stood up tall and flexed his arms like a pro wrestler or bodybuilder.


    Wren was giggling at the little guy. ¡°Uh, yeah, it was definitely something like that.¡± She held her hands out until he jumped over to land in them, smiling as he made a chittering noise of approval when she started scratching under his chin. Her eyes found me before she added, ¡°We really did figure out what they do. I mean, not exactly why the Ministry made them or who they¡¯re planning to use them on, but¡­ but we know what they do. Or what they¡¯re supposed to do, anyway.¡±


    The way she was saying that made me grimace. ¡°Okay, why do I feel like when I hear what these vials are supposed to do, it¡¯s going to raise as many questions as it answers, if not more?¡±


    From where she was standing off in the corner, Sierra spoke up. ¡°Maybe because you have functioning pattern recognition. Isn¡¯t that the way everything goes these days?¡±


    I started to say something else, but before I could, the others arrived. Apparently Paige had taken the time to pick up Murphy and Roald, while Peyton had flown over. Finally, we were all gathered up in that room, anxiously waiting for an explanation.


    Or rather-- my gaze turned toward Paige as I squinted. ¡°You already know the truth about this, don¡¯t you? I mean, you¡¯ve been connected to the security system this whole time, you had to have been watching them.¡±


    She, in turn, scowled albeit good-naturedly. ¡°No, I don¡¯t. Sierra kept muting things so I couldn¡¯t keep track of what they were finding out. She said it should be a surprise to me too.¡±


    Sierra grinned, stretching her arms out lazily over her head. ¡°Well, that¡¯s only fair, right? She can keep track of what¡¯s going on in case there¡¯s danger or whatever, but getting a sneak peek at the answers before you guys get them?¡± Her finger wagged as she tutted. ¡°Nope, not this time.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay!¡± Murphy was clearly done with waiting. ¡°So what is the answer? What are the vials for?¡±


    So, they explained. According to Wren, Qwerty, and Sierra (Fred basically just piped up now and then to mention bits of grunt work in running down tools or whatnot he¡¯d needed to do), each vial was one part of a concoction which, when put together properly and combined with samples of someone¡¯s DNA, was supposed to change the person who drank it to exactly match the source of that DNA at the time it had been taken.


    My mouth opened and shut. ¡°Wait, so it¡¯s like¡­ they¡¯re trying to permanently change one person into another at the molecular level or something?¡±


    Sierra shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s the thing, it¡¯ll only work on someone who matches the DNA that gets added to it. So it¡¯s like, if you have a DNA sample from a guy when he was ten years old, and he takes this concoction, it¡¯ll revert him to that ten-year-old self.¡±


    ¡°Why the hell would they want to do that?¡± Murphy demanded. ¡°Is this like a fountain of youth sort of thing?¡±


    ¡°Hey yeah, that could work.¡± Peyton was nodding. ¡°If they made more of this stuff they could just keep genetic samples of themselves and keep reverting their ages whenever they started getting old.¡±


    Beside them, Roald frowned thoughtfully. ¡°That may be a side goal or whatever, but that¡¯s not really the main point, is it?¡±


    Wren bounced up and down anxiously on her toes. ¡°Uh, we don¡¯t think so. We¡¯re pretty sure it¡¯s supposed to take someone who has powers and revert them to a state before they had them.¡±


    ¡°Wait, they want to use this stuff to make a Touched not a Touched anymore? Someone whose DNA they have from before they Touched.¡± I stared that way, a million thoughts running through my head. But one was louder than the rest.


    ¡°Whose powers are they trying to take away?¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-06

    The Ministry, my parents, wanted to have the ability to take someone''s powers away. Obviously, there were people that would be useful with. People like Pencil who abused their power to torture and massacre innocents. Not to mention dozens of people on Breakwater who would suddenly be able to be held in ordinary prisons if something like this was even possible. They would go from being the most dangerous monsters on the planet, to being able to be held in an ordinary cell.


    On the other hand, the idea that something like this could exist at all was terrifying. Who could say that it would absolutely only ever be used to remove the powers of bad people? Once the ability was out there, it was kind of inevitable that it would end up in the wrong hands. And honestly, I wasn''t sure which side of that I would count my family being on. Controlling crime in the city was one thing, but having the ability to remove the powers from anyone they wanted to? No, I definitely didn''t like that. I didn''t like that at all. This was a bad idea.


    Oh, and it was even worse than that, I realize with a glance toward Qwerty. Would this stuff be able to turn a TONI back into an ordinary animal? Was that even possible? The idea made hot bile rise in my throat. None of them deserved that, none. Not even Shovel. The Scion dog might have been an incredibly bad boy, but even he didn''t deserve to have his sapience erased. Locked up forever, maybe. But doing anything to turn him back into an ordinary dog, completely destroying his self? No.


    And that was just one example of a very nasty TONI. I was adamant that even he wouldn''t deserve it, but if this stuff got out there, there were people who would try to use it on plenty of others. TONIs were generally accepted by now, but there were plenty of people out there who saw them as abominations and would absolutely jump at the opportunity to change them back into normal animals. If even a hint of this stuff existing got out, those people wouldn''t stop until they found it. Even if they did need DNA samples from before they Touched, it was still just¡­ bad.


    Yeah, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to take all these vials and dump them down the sink. I wanted to destroy this stuff. It shouldn¡¯t exist. It was too dangerous. Too dangerous for us to have, and definitely too dangerous for the Ministry. Hell, the moment certain people found out something like this was even possible, they would do their own work on it. Who was to say someone else wouldn''t be able to make the same stuff if they got even so much as a hint?


    We had all been standing there staring at one another for several long seconds. Finally, I gave a low whistle. ¡°Right, okay, so that''s a thing.¡± I was trying to keep the full extent of how much it unnerved me out of my voice, but I didn''t think I was successful. Especially judging by the looks the others gave me. My head shook. ¡°First things first, do we know if this stuff is anywhere near actually working? Is there any way to find out without, you know, trying to use it?¡± I grimaced at the thought.


    Paige, holding one of the vials, turned it over to stare critically at the thing. ¡°I really don''t think this is the finished product. At best, it''s one of several samples they have, and probably not one that''s  close to actually doing the job. Either way, It''s not the only egg they have in that particular basket.¡±


    Roald bobbed his head quickly. ¡°Because they haven''t come after it hard enough yet, right?¡±


    Willow the penguin plushie, still floating there on her hoverboard, raised a wing. ¡°But they don''t know where in the city that stuff is, right? How could they come after it when they don''t have any idea that you guys were the ones who broke into that place? Besides, it sounds like they''ve been kind of busy, you know?¡±


    Oak gave a soft grunt, his little turtle face scrunched up thoughtfully. ¡°My sister raises a valid point. But then, you very well might have seen the effects of them scouring the city much more urgently if the mysterious gang who broke into their secret base had actually made off with the only working sample of something that could erase someone''s powers like that. I doubt they would take that calmly. Not that they seem to have been exactly calm as it was, but¡­¡±


    Sierra took a bag of jelly beans from her pocket and started to munch on them while nodding. ¡°That''s basically what we were thinking. They¡¯d have been pushing a hell of a lot harder to get those vials back if they were that important. Remember when we told them that those mysterious thieves stole from us too? They pushed a bit for information, but if that group actually had something that important, we''d probably still be sitting in a dark interrogation room. They definitely haven''t pushed hard enough to get that stuff back.¡±


    ¡°And it wasn''t protected enough in the first place,¡± I pointed out before waving my hand as they all stared at me intently. ¡°I know, I know, secret underground base. But still, I feel like if this stuff was the real working deal, and their only sample, it would have been locked up deeper in a vault, not sitting in a lab like they were still working on it.¡±


    We talked that through one a bit more before eventually deciding that it made sense to generally assume this wasn''t the only stuff the Ministry had, but also not to take that for granted. If nothing else, they would have still had all the records on how it was made, so whether these vials were the only physical samples or not was almost immaterial.


    And speaking how it was made, Wren insisted we not just destroy all of them. She wanted to see if there was a way to undo what the finished product was supposed to do, and the best way to learn about that was to have these here to study. Not that she was exactly an expert on this sort of thing. After all, her focus was on movement, not biology. But she still wanted to try. And she had help from Qwerty, Paige, and Sierra. At the very least, we had a better chance of understanding what to do about this shit if they could keep studying it. So I resisted that urge to dump all of it down the sink. But I also made it clear that they were to be really fucking careful. We absolutely didn''t need to have any accidents with this stuff. Not considering the consequences that could follow. I made them swear that they wouldn''t take any risks.


    With that done, I was about to say something else, but Peyton spoke up first. ¡°Hey, uh, I was just thinking, is there any way to find out how long they''ve been working on this stuff? I mean, there''s a couple ways that could be relevant. It could tell us how far they''ve gotten in that time, and maybe even give us an idea of who they''re actually targeting. You know, if we can narrow it down to a time period when someone was doing something they might want to stop or take control of.¡±


    That was a fair point, and I looked over at the brains of our operation. They all consulted with each other before Wren gave a tentative nod. ¡°Uh huh, I think there''s ways we can narrow it down, but it''ll probably take a while. And we¡¯ll need more equipment to test certain things. Equipment I can''t make by myself. So we gotta be really careful about how we get it.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes, very careful!¡± Qwerty chanted, bounding back and forth from the top of Paige¡¯s head to the nearby table, then to Sierra¡¯s shoulder, Roald¡¯s arm, and finally over to me. He landed in my hands as I raised them for him, staring up at me. ¡°It''s gotta stay a secret!¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I agreed, scratching the back of the little guy¡¯s head, much to his enjoyment. ¡°That sounds like pretty specialized equipment. Which means if the Ministry finds out we''re trying to get hold of tools like that, it probably wouldn¡¯t be hard for them to put two and two together and figure out we''re the ones with those vials. At the very least, they¡¯d take a good hard look at us, which we really don¡¯t need. So yeah, take your time so we don''t get caught. It¡¯d just be nice to know everything we possibly can about this stuff, and why they''re so interested in making it. Assuming they have a specific reason and it''s not just another way for them to maintain control.¡± As I said that, my face twisted a little at the thought of the Ministry having another way to keep their grip over the city. Hell, if they did have this sort of thing, the ability to take away powers, they¡¯d be able to move beyond just Detroit, or even just Michigan. They¡¯d¡­ yeah, it could be very bad.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    But hey, at least we had something of an idea about what those vials were for. That was more than we''d had, and gave us a head start on figuring out what to do about it before that stuff became an immediate problem. Being one step ahead as far as that went was quite the treat, honestly. I couldn''t even imagine how things would have gone if we had only found out that stuff was even possible after it had already been used. Especially if one of us was hit by it.


    Yeah, I had that thought, of course. What if one of us--what if I was the intended target for that stuff? They knew I knew about the Ministry, so just the threat of being able to take my power away if I didn¡¯t play ball could have been pretty effective. What would I do if they did make that threat and we didn¡¯t have a way of countering it? Sure, maybe that wasn¡¯t the most likely target for that ability, but still. Even if they used it on someone else, they could still use it as a threat for others. Not just me either, anyone who didn¡¯t play ball with them. It could¡­ it could give them a level of control that would be staggering. Between being able to remove any powers they didn¡¯t like, and threaten anyone they wanted, that would essentially make them one of the strongest groups in the fucking world, right? Was I overthinking it? I really didn¡¯t think so. The ability to remove Touched powers would be completely game-changing. No wonder they wanted it.


    And yes, I did remember that they needed the earlier DNA sample. But who was to say that wasn¡¯t just one stepping stone toward being able to create a version that could do that without the prerequisite?


    Once Wren and the others had promised to be very careful and discreet when it came to getting hold of the equipment they needed to test this stuff more thoroughly, we decided it was time to eat something before making any other decisions. So, Fred, Murphy, and Roald went to get food they could bring back. Meanwhile, Oak was regaling the rest of the Cuddles with the story of what it had been like to go to school with me. They all seemed enraptured by the idea, and I was already trying to think of a way to set up a good system for taking them out. Not only to school, but other places too. We could easily take them to see a movie, to the arcade, or anything like that. It might be a bit more difficult to let them play any of the games at the arcade--but hell we could set up a game system here in the shop. They absolutely deserved that much. They deserved more than we could give them, but I was damn sure going to try.


    As I was thinking about that, Paige approached me, casting a glance toward Pittman when I looked at her. She kept her voice low. ¡°You know we need to do something about him.¡±


    Swallowing hard, I stared at the man in question. She was absolutely right, of course. We had to do something with him. The whole reason we went through all that to get him over here in the first place was just to cure Sleeptalk, and now it turned out that he wasn''t even the person behind the stuff. He couldn''t fix it, and I definitely didn''t trust that he wouldn¡¯t eventually find a way to escape this place if we waited too long. So what were we supposed to do with the asshole?


    As if in answer to that question, or maybe just to complicate it, my phone buzzed. Looking down at it, I let out a breath. ¡°It''s the Ministry,¡± I murmured. Of course they were calling now.


    That got everyone''s attention. Everyone who was still here anyway. Even the Cuddles turned our way, and everyone gathered around while I held that buzzing phone. It took me a moment to work up the nerve to answer. Finally, as Paige put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed, I hit the accept call button and held it to my ear. ¡°Hey, are we having daily check-ins now or what? If so, I think I should be put on your payroll. What¡¯s your sick leave policy like?¡±


    ¡°If you want to be employed by the Ministry,¡± Price informed me with what sounded like genuine amusement and teasing, ¡°all you have to do is ask. I promise, we have a very generous signing bonus. And I believe with the competence you and yours have shown, it could be greatly expanded.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± I promised while trying not to roll my eyes. Wait, why did I care about that? This was a phone call. I rolled them hard. ¡°But something tells me you aren¡¯t calling for that offer.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a quick one,¡± came the flat response from the raccoon. ¡°And if we¡¯re not beating around the bush, let¡¯s just say it¡¯s come to our attention that you may have a certain escapee from Breakwater crashing on your couch. We¡¯re going to completely ignore the question of how you managed something like that. Call it professional courtesy. Instead, let¡¯s get down to the question of how much it¡¯s going to cost to take him off your hands.¡±


    Right, they were coming with offers of payment first. Of course they were, it just made sense. Carrot before the stick and all that. They¡¯d want to see if they could convince us to hand him over without any bad feelings or real effort on their part. And honestly, I was honestly trying to figure out if that would be such a bad idea. We¡¯d talked it through a few times, but I still wasn¡¯t sure. Especially given that whole, ¡®am I just being stubborn¡¯ question that kept popping up. Would it be a bad thing to just let the Ministry deal with Pittman from here on out? Granted, he knew too much, but was any of it stuff the Ministry couldn¡¯t figure out on their own (or, more likely, already knew)? He could tell them Poise was Paige, and¡­ yeah, that Sierra looked like me. But again, I really didn¡¯t think he¡¯d do that. He¡¯d want to be able to use that against them once he escaped. And he would obviously be very confident he would escape. Throwing away an advantage like that sounded pretty stupid. Especially since it wouldn¡¯t actually gain him anything.


    Paige¡¯s hand squeezed my shoulder a bit more firmly, and I realized I¡¯d gone silent for a few seconds. Price wasn¡¯t saying anything either, probably content to wait until I had a chance to think it through and responded in some way. Well, somewhat content. I had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t wait forever without getting at least a bit agitated.


    It would¡¯ve been stupid and insulting to everyone involved for me to flatly deny what they obviously knew. So, I just replied, ¡°Well, let¡¯s talk about what sort of resources you have that you could throw our way. We¡¯ve been itching to get an ice cream machine.¡±


    That, of course, led to an assortment of plushie, Tech-Touched little girl, and squirrel-parrot high fives. Which I ignored, focusing on Price¡¯s response. ¡°I believe we can swing that. And perhaps something even better as a bonus. Well, besides simply removing that particular problem so you no longer need to deal with it. And earning even more of our gratitude. Which, I assure you, is even better than an ice cream machine.¡±


    Keeping my voice light, I replied, ¡°I think we all enjoy gratitude and frozen dessert, but what¡¯s this bonus?¡± I was really hoping he wouldn¡¯t say something like, ¡®we¡¯ll let you keep all your limbs intact.¡¯


    Thankfully, those weren¡¯t the next words out of Price¡¯s mouth. Instead, he informed me, ¡°Bring Benjamin Pittman to us, give him over to our custody, and we will deliver a large truck full of very advanced, very rare equipment and toys your Tech-Touched will love. Enough to keep her busy for months. All of which you may inspect to your heart¡¯s desire to make certain there are no listening devices or traps installed. And just as an additional benefit, we¡¯ll throw in the truck as well. I¡¯d put a price on it, but some of this equipment is literally priceless. As in, genuinely impossible to buy. We look forward to seeing what she can do with it.¡±


    Pausing briefly, I exchanged a look with Wren before replying, ¡°Give me a few minutes, I¡¯ll call you back.¡± Then I disconnected before explaining what they had offered.


    Sierra whistled. ¡°They really want that son of a bitch in their hands.¡±


    ¡°Of course they do,¡± Paige put in darkly. ¡°Look what he¡¯s done to the city just while being on Breakwater. Yeah, the actual work was from Cup, but we all know who put the idea in her head, and helped her get that far. Besides, he already tried to go after the Evans family. They let him get away with just being locked up on Breakwater once. I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a mistake they¡¯ll make again.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a Bio-Tech-Touched,¡± Peyton pointed out. ¡°If they get him under their control, they could make him do all sorts of things. You know, like help with that power erasing stuff we were just talking about.¡±


    Sierra was nodding. ¡°Sure, that¡¯s why they want him so badly. Not just to make it so he¡¯s not a problem anymore, but to try to use the lying piece of shit. They want him in their custody, and they¡¯re not going to take no for an answer.


    ¡°Either we hand him over, take the generous reward they¡¯re offering, and deal with the consequences later, or we refuse¡­ and they absolutely declare war on us right here, right now.¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-07

    Honestly, we needed to make a decision quickly. The Ministry wasn''t going to wait forever for a response. They knew this was a big moment, of course. That was why they were giving us the chance to talk it through before pushing the subject. But there was only so far they would allow that to go. They were going to start pushing the issue before too much longer. Especially considering how important this was to them. They would keep the carrot held aloft for a bit longer, but I was pretty sure that any real delay on our part would result in the stick being pulled out from behind their backs. They were only so patient.


    Each second that passed made that ticking clock sound in the back of my mind seem even louder. We had to do a lot of very important math in a short amount of time. Before we learned what those vials were for, I''d had trouble articulating even to myself why I felt hesitant to hand Pittman over to them. But now that we knew what they might be able to use him for, that hesitation finally had some reasoning behind it. Seriously, could we live with ourselves if we handed the Ministry that kind of power? How could I trust my parents to have the ability to make it so someone wasn''t Touched anymore? Especially after they had done things like remove my memories. Yes, they had thought they were doing the right thing, but that just proved the point, didn''t it? What if they did something else awful just because they thought that was the right thing? They obviously knew how to justify stuff to themselves. Could they really be trusted with something like this?


    Issues with my own doubts about my family aside, that wasn''t even the whole question. It was only part of the math problem. Because we had to factor in what would happen if we refused. If we didn''t hand him over, our relationship with the Ministry would change immediately and drastically. Thus far, even if we weren''t exactly friends, we had something of a working relationship. There was some bit of tension there, of course. But if we told them no right now, that tension would turn into something much more dangerous.


    So that was the deciding factor, really. We absolutely weren''t ready to have a full-on conflict with the Ministry. They were too strong, too resourceful, and had too many of the cards. Besides, after everything we had been through lately and all the balls we had in the air, adding a spiked and superheated cannonball like conflict with the Ministry to our juggling act would have resulted in¡­ well, it definitely wouldn''t be pretty.


    Getting to keep things calm(ish) with my family¡¯s people was tempting on its own. But there was also another reason to accept this deal. Namely, Breakwater. They weren''t going to back off from their idea about kidnapping Wren. Not that easily, certainly. We had gotten lucky with the whole Cuddles thing. But if they came after us again, none of us wanted to have Pittman around. If he was, they would absolutely figure out we were the ones who took him, which would mean we¡¯d have even more trouble. Or, even worse, their attempts to break in could somehow set him free. Especially if they sent another mercenary team.


    On top of that, the fact was, he was just a distraction from everything else we had to deal with. Not to mention the slight problem that I couldn''t keep sleeping over at the shop forever. Simon was distracted, but not that distracted. Besides, with any luck, my parents would be cured soon, and then I really wouldn''t be able to stay. We needed to do something with him. And since I wasn''t willing to go with the plan to just kill him, that meant either giving him to Breakwater, to the authorities here in the city, or to the Ministry. There were pros and cons to each of those choices, but the Ministry were the only ones who currently knew we had him. And they were the ones who were the most immediate threat.


    Intense rounds of sometimes heated discussion kept going around and around through the shop, but we finally settled on the only answer we could possibly come to. We had to pretend we didn''t know anything about the power removal stuff. We had to hand him over. We could find another way to sabotage their efforts if it came down to that, find the labs they used and destroy that research, or whatever. The point was, we could find another way to prevent this from happening if we needed to. At least, that was what we told ourselves. Maybe it was just a way of lying amongst one another so we could avoid really accepting what we were about to do and what sort of power we could be handing to them, but there really was no other choice.


    No other good choice, anyway. Sierra did try to push for the ¡®kill him and say he died during an escape attempt so whoops, sorry about that¡¯ option. And, to be honest, there was a part of me that considered that. Was I an evil person for even entertaining the possibility? He was a prisoner, a helpless, contained prisoner. How could I even, in any way, even possibly think about letting him be executed just because it would be easier and more convenient? Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? Was something that was in my parents that allowed them to make these kinds of decisions part of my actual DNA somehow?


    Genetics probably didn¡¯t work like that, of course. But the fact that I''d even considered the execution idea, briefly as it might''ve been, convinced me to accept that we had to let him go. We had to hand him over. I promised the others, as well as myself, that we would work to find a way to deal with the situation later. We still had our alter-egos. Or rather, our alter-alter-egos. We had the thieves who had broken into that base under the mall. If we could figure out where they would take him and have him working, we could break in there and¡­ and do something about the situation. I just had no idea what.


    That whole thing was clearly just what we said to make ourselves feel better about what we had to do. But it also wasn¡¯t wrong. We were going to do everything we could to make sure that handing him over now wouldn''t actually end up giving my parents and their people that sort of weapon. We just weren''t in the position to actually start a real fight with them right now.


    Only after we had all finally agreed did I use my phone to call Price back. My hand was shaking a little, as the anxiety over what we were potentially doing made my stomach hurt. This could backfire so easily. In a month, would we be frantically trying to fix the damage we''d done in this moment? Would that version of me look back at this one and curse myself for this decision, for not just refusing?


    Damn it, I had no idea. I couldn''t see the future. All I could do was work with the information and choices I had in front of me. And right now, this was the only choice that wouldn''t result in some or even all of my friends getting hurt or killed by my family¡¯s people.


    It didn''t take long for Price to answer, unsurprisingly. He spoke calmly, his words a simple, ¡°Where do we make the exchange then?¡± That was it. He didn''t even have to ask what our decision was. Was that more because he knew we didn''t have a choice, simple confidence, or maybe the timing of our call? They could have worked out various time frames for how long it might take us to come to various decisions. Obviously, if we were going to tell them no, we would probably take longer. However, for all we knew, they had people watching the roads just outside of Wren¡¯s security measures to see if we decided to leave. There were any number of reasons for them to guess what our answer was. In the end it didn''t matter.


    Examining the note on the phone that Paige immediately held up for me to see, I replied, ¡°The parking garage across the street from the Heartridge hotel.¡± I was speaking as calmly as I could under the circumstances. ¡°Bring the truck to the top level, the roof area. We''ll meet you there. Can you make it with everything you promised in an hour?¡±


    Readily assuring me that that wouldn''t be a problem, Price thanked me for the prompt cooperation before disconnecting. Letting out a long breath, I put my phone away and looked back to the others. They were all staring at me anxiously. Even the full Cuddle Corps had gathered for that. I honestly wasn''t sure why everyone wanted to watch me say a few words on the phone. Maybe it was supposed to give me moral support or something. In the end, it left us staring at each other, no one knowing quite what to say. I was pretty sure we all still felt like this decision was going to backfire dramatically at some point.


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    It was Sierra who found her voice first. She brushed her hands off pointedly before announcing, ¡°Well, we made our choice. My vote is still to just be done with him for good, but this is me being a nice team player. So let''s get it over with already.¡± She was trying to sound slightly annoyed and mostly resigned, but I knew her too well. Or maybe I just knew my own voice and face. She was afraid. She was scared of what would happen if Pittman got away somehow and managed to put them under his control again. And why wouldn''t she be? The violation I felt over my memory being erased probably paled next to knowing someone could completely take over and manipulate your every action. Hell, Paige had been under his thumb for years, had been forced to treat me like dirt. She had been forced to literally kill me, when I was her only surviving friend from¡­ from before. Yes, she had come up with a plan to undo that, which I was still incredibly grateful for. But the fact remained that she had been forced to kill me. No wonder the two of them wanted him dead before he could do anything else like that. He was a piece of shit and in many ways we would be glad to get him out of here.


    Granted, we weren''t all going. The Cuddles would be staying here with Fred, Qwerty, Roald, and Murphy. To be completely honest, I kind of thought Paige and Sierra should stay at the shop themselves, just to erase any chance there could possibly be of Pittman getting last second control over them somehow. But there was absolutely no way they would agree to let us hand him over to the Ministry without being there themselves. This was already a tense enough situation as it was.


    Helpless as Pittman might have been right now, moving him could¡¯ve been a different story. Fortunately, Wren had come up with two things to help. The first one was a portable version of those things we were using to transport his voice elsewhere whenever he tried to talk, as well as anything else that came off his body. Peyton had the thing held in one of her marbles, shaped like a hand to aim it at him at all times. There was another attached to his belt and pointed up at him while his hands were cuffed behind his back and his ankles shackled. Oh, and he was gagged, of course. Gagged and blindfolded. We weren''t taking any chances. Or at least, as few chances as possible.


    The other thing Wren had included to help with this situation was also about keeping him from taking control of those two. In this case, it was an emergency teleportation evac system for them. Essentially, they were each wearing backpacks that picked up audio. If the sensors in the packs heard his voice at all, they would trigger and immediately launch one of those teleportation target marker badge things as far as they could, like shooting the targeting thing out of a gun. As soon as it was far enough away the transportation would activate and transport the two of them there.


    It might have been the right move, but neither of them liked the idea of being teleported away the second things started to go wrong. It was, however, one thing the rest of us put our feet down about. They were only allowed to go if we could have this system so that if they even started to hear his voice, they would be teleported far out of range before he could finish talking.


    Not that any of this completely erased any fear I had, of course. If anything, it just made my brain even more creative when it came to thinking up ways this whole thing could blow up in our faces. But at least we had an assortment of countermeasures ready in case things went wrong.


    Then there was Pittman himself, who seemed fairly calm about the whole thing. When we informed him that he was going to be handed over to the Ministry, I kind of expected more of a reaction. After all, considering how much he hated my family, being handed to them seemed like it would basically be his worst nightmare. So either he was very good at maintaining a poker face, or he had a plan for getting out of this. To be on the safe side, I was going to assume both and warn those guys, when we handed him over, to keep their eyes open.


    Honestly, the bad part about all this was that I couldn''t even say that once we handed him to them he wasn''t our problem anymore. Until he was finally dealt with one way or another, he would always be our problem. No matter who had actual custody of the bastard.


    In the end, all we could do was deal with the situation in front of us. So, we walked him out of the shop and into the van. He was secured in the back as thoroughly as we could manage, not just handcuffed, shackled, gagged, and blindfolded, but we also wrapped a couple chains around his body and secured them to hooks welded inside the van itself. They were actually meant to hold sensitive equipment steady during transport, but they would definitely stop him from moving.


    Sierra didn¡¯t drive straight to the parking garage either. First, we took a roundabout way, with all of us keeping our eyes open to watch for anyone who might be following us. After all, there were still those people who had been watching the shop and our friends before pulling out once everything went down at the school. They might try to hit us again. And, well, I didn''t exactly completely trust the Ministry either. Which was fair, because they probably didn''t perfectly trust us with this whole thing.


    Checking around us through several minutes of driving didn¡¯t turn up anything. So we drove to another parking garage a few blocks away from the actual meeting point and took Pittman out of the back of the van. First, Alloy encased him in a shell made from three of her marbles, just to be on the safe side. Then we unhooked the chains before she floated him up and out. She rode on top of the marble shell while it extended a couple smaller wing-like platforms for Style and Poise to stand on. All while another marble kept that device pointed at him. Trevithick stayed nearby, hovering with her flightpack thing.


    He was as secure as he could be right now, so we moved out like that. The others started floating over the rooftops toward the real meeting place while I scouted ahead. Jumping from roof to roof, I made it close enough to see where we were going. Sure enough, it was obvious that the Ministry had beaten us there. They had the promised moving truck parked out in the open where we could see it, as well as no less than three snipers on a couple other buildings by my count. Which probably meant there were more and they were being a mix of nice and intimidating by allowing me to see those three.


    And they weren''t dumb enough to have a bunch of guys standing around in dark suits with visible earpieces and weapons. Instead, there were a couple city utility vehicles along with a group of guys in uniforms pretending to work on whatever up there. Which, I was going to guess, they had also used as an excuse to close down at least the top couple levels of the garage, if not the whole thing. I might¡¯ve even almost thought they were real workers if I hadn¡¯t caught a glimpse of a small, furry figure in a suit in the front seat of one of those trucks.


    Pausing long enough to make sure it looked clear, I gave the others the go-ahead signal before jumping down there. Using orange paint to protect myself from the landing, I dropped right between several of the ¡®utility workers.¡¯


    Turning to one of those guys, I asked conversationally, ¡°So who do I talk to around here about that one traffic light on Glenfield that¡¯s always blinking? My mom got stuck there the other day for like five minutes just because no one respects the ¡®treat it like a stop sign¡¯ rule.¡± There, if they were trying to figure out who I was, let them chew on that nonsense for awhile.


    Except apparently those guys weren¡¯t cleared to talk to me, because none of them responded. Which wasn¡¯t fun at all. Instead, the truck door opened and Price hopped out. He adjusted his suit, then spoke up. ¡°You wanna go look through the toys we¡¯ve got for your Techy?¡±


    Right, like I was going to take my eyes off Pittman at any point in this exchange. ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± I replied, ¡°she can do it.¡± The timing of which turned out to be fantastic, because the moment I said that, the others descended. It looked perfectly planned, and I had to fight to keep from giggling.


    Nodding absently, Price took a step toward the bound, gagged, and blindfolded Pittman, but I held up a hand, my voice casual. ¡°Let¡¯s just hold off till Trev says you upheld your part, huh? Then you can play dress-up and tea party with the dude for all we care.¡± God, just let us get through this without any complications.


    Of course, before that thought had even finished working its way through my mind, another familiar figure stepped out the truck Price had been sitting in and walked around to join us. Or rather, limped around. It was Bobby, using a cane. He was out of that hospital place, and back in the city¡­ somehow. As I was reacting to that, he gave me a nod. ¡°Nice to see you, Paintball.¡±


    Which was the moment he pulled out a pistol and shot Pittman in the head.

 Learning Lessons 31-08

    They say when your adrenaline kicks in hard enough, everything seems to slow down. But in this case, it was kind of the opposite. My adrenaline was through the roof, yet everything happened really quickly right after the sound of that gunshot filled the air. I had a glimpse of Pittman¡¯s head snapping backward with a hole right in his forehead, the man collapsing to the ground as Sierra and Paige released him in their surprise. Wren and Peyton, who were already over by the truck, hit the ground, the latter reflexively putting a marble-shield in front of both of them.


    Meanwhile, every other Ministry person there had spun toward Bobby with their own weapons raised. They were shouting things about putting it down, stepping away, telling Price to get back, and so on. All of which confirmed what I had already known: this wasn¡¯t part of their plan. Of course it wasn¡¯t. They wanted Pittman alive for a myriad of reasons, not¡­ not shot in the head!


    Price, by that point, had switched places with Fisher. The giant bear, in his own suit, made no move to attack Bobby or anything. He just stood there, holding one paw up for the rest of the troops to quiet down, which they eventually did. Though no one stopped pointing their guns that way. They all looked like they were one twitch away from adding another body to the count.


    As for me, my eyes kept snapping back and forth between the body on the ground (I couldn¡¯t see his head from this angle) and Bobby himself. I was in shock, too confused to react in any meaningful way. Dead. Pittman was dead. After all that, after everything I¡¯d thought through, all the agonized debate both external and internal, he was just¡­ gone, shot in the head like any ordinary man on the street could have been. Everything he¡¯d done, everything he¡¯d tried to do, and now he was just dead. I¡¯d thought we were going to have to find a way to get him back after handing him over, that we would have to make sure he couldn¡¯t be forced to help the Ministry make their power-erasing serum or whatever it was supposed to be. But no, he was just dead.


    Paige and Sierra hadn¡¯t moved since they dropped him. In any other situation, I was sure they would¡¯ve immediately jumped to take the gun from Bobby or at least been just as active as the Ministry people in demanding he drop it. But in this case, they just stood there, staring down at the body in even more shock than I was. They didn¡¯t move and didn¡¯t speak, at least not out loud. What was going on inside their heads? What were they thinking? What were they saying to each other? I had no idea. I didn¡¯t even know what I was thinking right then, let alone those two.


    Bobby stowed his gun with a quick motion worthy of a magician. His voice was calm. ¡°Sorry, I couldn¡¯t let it happen. I told you I understood the situation, and I did. I do. The situation was that he needed to die before he could do anything else.¡±


    There was probably a lot that could¡¯ve been said to that, but right then, all I wanted to do was hug him. And maybe hit him just a little bit. Yes, part of me was still upset about a prisoner being executed. Killing Pittman when he was handcuffed, shackled, and blindfolded obviously wasn¡¯t really any better than if we had killed him when he was strapped to the virtual reality machine. Either way, he was completely helpless. It was wrong. We couldn¡¯t just go around executing people like that! Not even people as bad as Pittman had been. Even with everything he had done or wanted to do, just summarily killing him like that was still bad. I had to keep believing that.


    And yet, despite all those thoughts screaming in the back of my head about how wrong this was,  I also felt something very different. There was that part of me that was furious and disgusted, but it was quiet next to the part that was¡­ yes, relieved. It was a feeling that immediately made me experience a rush of disgusted guilt. What was wrong with me? A man had just been killed in front of me, executed in cold blood just like that, no warning, no chance to defend himself, nothing. He was given no chance whatsoever. One second he was alive, and the next¡­ he was just dead. And part of me was okay with that? Part of me was relieved we wouldn¡¯t have to figure out how to stop him later? Part of me--part of me--goddamn it, what the fuck was wrong with me?!


    Whatever it was, the fact that what I really wanted to do was embrace Bobby as tightly as I could wasn¡¯t helping. Which, on top of being wildly inappropriate, probably would¡¯ve given the Ministry entirely too many hints. Granted, it would also confuse the hell out of them, but still. It was just a bad idea all around. And made me feel even more like a monster. That relief I felt, the thought that at least we didn¡¯t have to deal with Pittman anymore, the fucking gratitude about¡­ about¡­ the fact that a living person was dead, made me want to throw up. As though voiding my last meal would also get rid of the horrible guilt, or maybe remove that feeling of relief entirely.


    So, through all that, I just stood there like an idiot. I didn¡¯t move. Neither did Paige and Sierra. They were still over there, staring down at the body on the ground while probably talking to each other privately. They were in their own world together, and I was in mine, alone. I was in my head, arguing with myself, yelling at myself, negotiating with myself about how I was allowed to feel.


    At least Wren hadn¡¯t seen anything. She heard the shot, but Peyton had knocked her down and covered her with the marble shield before she could see the dead body. But how much had she figured out already? Did she know he was dead? Peyton was there, she was murmuring to her, telling her something about everything being okay, that there wasn¡¯t a fight going on. Which was true, there was definitely nothing like a fight.


    Fisher, by that point, had beckoned toward a couple of the Ministry troops while keeping his voice low and calm. ¡°You know what needs to happen now. You have to come with us and explain yourself to¡­ to the people in charge.¡± He was clearly being careful about exactly what he said in front of us, even in this situation. My family and their secrets.


    Not that I could exactly throw stones on that front.


    ¡°I know a lot of things,¡± Bobby replied evenly, looking directly at the bear while the Ministry guys approached with a set of cuffs. He was tall enough to almost be eye to eye with Fisher. ¡°I know you would have tried to use him. You would have risked it--they would have risked it. I know what they¡¯d want to do if they had him. What they¡¯re trying to do is important, but I couldn¡¯t let you take that risk. Not with that man. He was too dangerous. And none of you would accept that, not with the stakes you¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    As he spoke, the man held his hands out behind his back for the guys to secure him. Which made me want to say--what? What would I say? I couldn¡¯t exactly jump in and defend him. No matter how much I still wanted to, even after all that. He was Bobby! He¡¯d saved my life on that day, at Anthony¡¯s party, and probably plenty of other times besides then that I didn¡¯t know about. How could I just stand there and let them take him to be interrogated and--and whatever else they¡¯d want to do for taking away their chance to have someone like Pittman under their control.


    Okay, calm down, Cassidy. I was freaking out a bit too much. Obviously the Ministry weren¡¯t going to do anything stupid like kill him. They¡¯d be angry, especially when my parents woke up and found out what happened. But this was Bobby, and that was Pittman. In the end, they¡¯d understand. I just needed to calm down, breathe, and¡­ and stop thinking about that dead person lying just a few feet away.


    Just as those two guys started to put the cuffs on him, however, Bobby said something else. ¡°And I know there¡¯s still a few things I need to do to make sure this is over.¡±


    Fisher started to respond, that massive paw of his extending as though to grab the man. I heard a voice cry out a warning, before realizing it was me, even as I took a single step that way. Others were reacting too. And yet, all of us were too late. Without another hint of warning, Bobby vanished. There was a crackle of energy and a loud popping sound, before he just disappeared. Teleportation. He¡¯d teleported away somehow, rather than let them take him in. Some sort of Touched-Tech thing?


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    In the wake of that, Fisher stood with that paw extended, staring at the empty space where Bobby had been. Silence descended on the rooftop, until the bear TONI slowly turned his gaze to peer at me. Somehow, I could read the total uncertainty and disbelief in his expression. He really had no idea how to react to all this, or what to do about it. He didn¡¯t even look all that angry about it, so much as¡­ well, kind of like he really needed a hug.


    Okay seriously, what was up with my subconscious wanting to hug people while Pittman¡¯s body was laying there dead? Was this some sort of hysterical reaction or something? And why couldn¡¯t I make myself move or say anything?


    For Fisher¡¯s part, he did find his voice. ¡°I think it''s safe to say,¡± he murmured while meeting my gaze, ¡°that this did not go as planned.¡±


    *******


    Thankfully, the Ministry didn''t think we had anything to do with what Bobby had done. Not even with the teleportation ending. I was pretty sure they knew exactly how he had pulled that off. Not that they were telling us. Nor did they tell us anything else about what they were going to do about it. Fisher said we had fulfilled our part of the deal, so they would fulfill theirs. He told us to take the truck and leave while they took care of the scene, and dealt with the body.


    Obviously, Sierra and Paige didn''t want to leave. But they couldn''t exactly explain why, or argue. Finally tearing their eyes away from their dead father (or creator, designer, whatever they really saw him as) the two of them followed us to the truck. Peyton continued to make sure Wren didn''t see the body, shielding her from it all the way until the trailer obscured any view of it.


    I felt numb, cold, sweaty, confused, afraid, elated, disgusted, relieved, angry, and so much more. I felt more emotions than I actually had words for. I couldn''t even start to sort them out yet.


    There was a tiny voice in the back of my head questioning whether all that was real or not. It certainly could''ve been possible for them to fake that whole thing just so we would believe Pitman was dead. Maybe they even could''ve pulled it off right in front of Poise and Style. But no, I didn¡¯t think so. The coordination and skill that would''ve gone into faking it to that extent, somehow switching Pittman for a fake that would fool all of us in the midst of looking like Bobby was shooting him in the head? Sure, it wasn''t impossible when you added in the kind of resources and Touched-Tech they had access to. But it just wasn''t what happened. No, that was real. The way they all reacted, the look on Fisher''s face, the way Bobby sounded, it wasn''t fake.


    Besides, I was pretty sure Sierra and Paige would have been able to identify a fake considering how long they had stood there and stared at the body. They wouldn¡¯t be so shellshocked.


    Normally, one of them would have driven. But they were too out of it. And I wasn''t too much better. Thankfully, Peyton stepped up again. After making sure Wren was strapped into one of the middle seats (there was the front two seats, then a bench of seats right behind that before the wall separating the cab from the trailer of the moving truck) she took the driver''s seat and started it up. I was in the passenger seat next to her, while the other two were in the middle with Wren. And just like that, without even saying anything, Peyton started to drive the truck silently down and out of the parking garage.


    None of us spoke for those first couple of minutes. We just sat there listening to the sound of the truck engine and the nearby traffic as Peyton took us out on the street. We had a planned route and secondary destination to head for both to make sure we weren''t being followed, and so we could stop and go over this truck with a fine-tooth comb to look for trackers, listening devices, or anything else. We¡¯d planned that whole thing out. But to be honest, the fact that we weren''t talking had little to do with remembering that we wanted to wait until we checked the truck, and much more to do with the shock we were all feeling. We just sat there, silently digesting all of¡­ all of that. Even Wren was being very quiet, arms folded in her lap as she stared at the floor.


    By the time we reached the spot we had picked out ahead of time to check the truck, the same old self-serve car wash I¡¯d taken Ashton to all those weeks earlier, Paige and Sierra were--well, not back to themselves, but at least recovered enough to help go over this thing. Wren and Peyton focused on the gear in the back, while I helped the other two go over every inch of the truck itself. Not that we were going to keep it either way, but we still wanted to know if the Ministry had tried to plant a bug or tracker on us.


    None of us said very much through the search either. We certainly weren¡¯t ready to talk about what we had just seen, and trying to talk about anything else seemed wrong. We quietly worked together, talking just enough to communicate about what we were finding. Or weren¡¯t finding.


    In the end, after half an hour of scouring the vehicle and everything inside, we were convinced that they hadn¡¯t tried to put any tracking devices on the thing. Well, as convinced as we could be. Which probably just meant they knew we¡¯d look for them and didn¡¯t want to risk it. After all, they were still trying to convince us that we could all work together and have a pleasant relationship, and risking that just to maybe find out where we took the truck or what we might say when they weren¡¯t supposed to be listening probably wasn¡¯t worth it.


    Or they thought it wasn¡¯t worth it, at least.


    Either way, we still weren¡¯t taking the truck. None of us cared how clean it seemed, it would¡¯ve been idiotic to keep the thing. The large metal crates full of tech supplies and tools, on the other hand, were too useful to pass up. Even then, Wren wasn¡¯t taking them back to the shop yet. Instead, she stuck one of her teleportation badges on each of them, sending them to her secondary lab, the one she¡¯d used until we were sure the pawnshop was safe enough after the Ashton situation was handled. They would sit there, out of the way, until she had time to run a few more tests on every individual piece of equipment.


    Once that was done, after we¡¯d sent those crates away to be examined more thoroughly at some point and walked away from the truck, we made our way back to the shop the long way. I would text the Ministry to let them know where they could get their vehicle and that we didn¡¯t need it later. For the time being, it could sit there. Maybe it would be towed, then they could deal with that.


    Finally, after what seemed like forever, we were back at the shop. Obviously, Fred, Qwerty, Murphy, Roald, and the Cuddles wanted to know what happened. But I left Peyton and Wren to do most of the talking on that point. Instead, I followed Sierra and Paige, who had silently walked off to head up onto the roof.


    They were sitting together on the edge of the building, legs dangling off the side. When I poked my head up through the trapdoor, they both turned to look at me silently. Immediately, I started to second-guess myself. ¡°I--sorry, I can leave you guys alone if you--¡±


    ¡°Come on.¡± That was Sierra, scooting aside a bit to leave space between them. ¡°You should join us. I was just trying to decide how we¡¯re supposed to celebrate. You think I could convince that gas station down the street to let me buy some beer if I tell them I¡¯m the daughter of the couple who own half this city?¡±


    Snorting despite myself, I moved that way, letting the trapdoor close behind me as I settled into that spot between the two Biolem girls. Together, we sat there, staring out at the neighborhood in silence for a minute or so.


    It was Paige who finally spoke, her voice as small and soft as I had ever heard it. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I¡¯ve wished he was dead since¡­ since¡­¡± She swallowed. ¡°For a long time. I¡¯ve wanted him to be dead for a long time. I dreamed about it, wished for it, obsessed over it. I longed for it. And now¡­ he is. He¡¯s gone. So why don¡¯t I feel any better? Why don¡¯t I feel any relief?¡±


    She turned to me, eyes visibly damp. Our eyes locked, and she whispered in a voice I could barely hear, ¡°Cassidy, am I broken?¡±


    My own eyes closed briefly as a shudder ran through me. Then my head shook. I reached out, embracing the other girl tightly. She was limp for a moment before slowly lifting her own arms. As I felt her return the hug, I murmured, ¡°No, Paige. You¡¯re not broken, he was. He was a broken, sad, damaged little man, who spent so many years so angry at everyone he thought wronged him that he couldn¡¯t see what was right in front of him. He was so obsessed with getting his revenge that he¡­ let that become everything he was. It ate him up. He was never¡­ never what you needed him to be. Never what either of you needed him to be. I¡¯m sorry for that. I¡¯m sorry for what you both lost. But you didn¡¯t lose it today. You lost it when he decided his revenge was more important than his children. And you lost it every time he refused to change his mind. It¡¯s okay to be sad. It¡¯s okay to be relieved. It¡¯s okay to be angry, at him, at the Ministry, at my grandfather, at Robert. It¡¯s okay to feel everything you¡¯re feeling. I¡¯m right here. If you want to talk, I¡¯ll listen. But if you just want to sit and be quiet for awhile, that¡¯s okay too. I promise, I¡¯ll be here for as long as you need me. I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡±


    And I didn¡¯t, not for a long time. The three of us simply sat on that roof, watching the road as the sun eventually began to set in the distance. We didn¡¯t talk about much. Most of the time, we were quiet, lost in our own thoughts, our own memories.


    Pittman was gone. He was dead, but everything he had set in motion was still going. Amanda was still alive, still doing her part. There were other Biolems he had made, other plans he had, other pieces of his plan. I was thinking about what was going to happen to all of that now that Pittman was gone, and why I felt like this whole situation was only going to get more complicated.


    But mostly I was thinking about how sitting here like this, with one arm around Paige and the other around Sierra, felt like the best possible place I could be.

 Learning Lessons 31-09

    ¡°Are you fucking insane?!¡±


    The man shouting those words was hanging from my left hand, which was red-painted to his back as we sailed from one roof to the next while a couple hundred feet off the ground.


    Paige and Sierra were taking a little time off. They deserved it. Well, to be fair, I was pretty sure we all deserved it. And if I was going to be completely honest, the entire city deserved it at this point. But those two had very complicated feelings about the death of Pittman, so they were getting an actual, legitimate break. I wasn''t sure what exactly they were going to be doing with their time, but Sierra had said something about taking some very fancy china that had been locked away in the Banners¡¯ kitchen cabinets and introducing it to the wrong end of an elephant gun.


    Yeah, I felt confident in saying that those two had some emotional issues when it came to that guy. And they definitely weren''t the only ones. I still hadn''t decided how I felt about his death, even now, the day after it went down. I had gone home that night, since there was no reason for me to stay at the shop anymore. That and, even as distracted as he was, Simon would have had questions if I stayed out again. Besides, to be honest, I¡¯d wanted to see Izzy. I¡¯d needed to talk to her, and not just over the phone. I was able to tell her things I couldn''t put into words for anyone else, like how I felt so helpless when I looked at Paige and saw how hurt she was. She hated Pittman, of course. She hated everything he was and everything he had done to her. She hated everything he made her do. But he was still her father, and she felt lost by the fact that he was dead. She had obviously known that who he was would never change. But something told me there was a difference between knowing her father would never become the person she needed him to be, and knowing that he could never become that person, because he was gone.


    And why was he gone? Because Bobby killed him. Bobby had shot him without any warning, even though the man was helpless at the time. He hadn''t even had a chance to see it coming. He was simply alive one second, and dead the next. Yes, he was a terrible person. Not to mention a dangerous one. But I had practically just given all my reasons to the others about why we couldn''t simply kill a helpless prisoner, and then Bobby just did exactly that.


    So why wasn''t I angrier with him? I felt a lot of things. There was a bit of anger, especially about the fact that Wren had been there. Thank God he had waited until she wasn''t looking. Or rather, thank Bobby. I was pretty sure that it wasn''t an accident. At least, I wanted to hope that he wouldn''t have been so quick to shoot a man in the head if she had been looking right at him at the time.


    According to Fred, she was still freaked out about it, but was keeping herself busy by going over the contents of that trailer the Ministry had handed over. He¡¯d had a long talk with her about it not being her fault that Pittman was in that situation to begin with, but she was probably going to need to keep hearing that for awhile. After all, she was the one who had teleported him off that island in the first place.


    And she had done that because I asked her to.


    The point was, even after unloading all that with Izzy and getting some quite effective hugs through the rest of the night, I still had my own feelings to work through. Which I was choosing to do in as productive and helpful a way as I could right then.


    ¡°Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuck! I don''t like heights, I don''t like heights, I really don''t fucking like heights God dammit!¡± The guy stuck to my hand was still complaining as we flew through the air.


    ¡°Is that right?¡± I asked while releasing the red paint so he could drop onto that roof. It was only a fall of a couple feet, but he still squealed like a little baby before rolling once he hit. What a drama queen. ¡°Well, I''m pretty sure that family back there didn¡¯t particularly like you smacking them around and taking their stuff.¡± As I said that, I was dropping down to land smoothly in front of the man. He was already trying to scramble a bit awkwardly to his feet, but I hit his shoulder and the roof with two more shots of red, yanking him back down hard enough to draw a rough grunt from the man.


    Taking a knee there, I poked his head while he was trying not to puke. ¡°Then you tried to shoot at me, that was a bad idea. I mean, probably not as bad as hurting innocent people, but it sure didn''t help your case. You didn''t really think it through, huh?¡±


    I had just been making my way through town, trying to clear my head as we waited to hear any update on the cure front, when I had seen this guy forcing that family into an old building. Apparently he had been planning to lock them in a room there while he took their car with everything in it. I had shown up just as he was punching the dad for arguing. The thing was, if he stopped to listen for two seconds, he would have realized the guy was just trying to tell him to give them their son¡¯s medication from the back seat. He needed his meds. But of course, this genius either didn''t care, or was too stupid to know how important that could be. Either way, I didn''t feel at all bad for taking him on this little trip.


    Shaking my head, I used a set of ordinary handcuffs on the man. Then, while he continued to protest, I made him get up and jumped him back down to the ground. He didn''t like that any more than he''d liked getting up there in the first place. But once again I really didn''t have that much sympathy for him.


    Sending a message over the Doeapp, I waited there until a squad car came to pick him up. The whole time, I just kept obsessing over everything else we needed to do, and over everything that had already happened. We couldn''t do that break-in thing to check out Maki¡¯s place until Paige and Sierra were up for it, and we didn''t have anything else we could contribute to getting a Sleeptalk cure. There wasn''t really anything we could do on that front at all, even if part of me really wanted to try just punching Amanda until she gave it up. I knew that wouldn''t really help (and that it was completely wrong), but the impulse was still there. And not being able to do anything wasn''t helping that.


    This had to be one of the worst parts of the whole situation. There was nothing we could do but wait. I had no other way to contribute, or even check in on how it was going. If I tried to get answers out of the Ministry, I might get something. But so would those people. Specifically, they would know that I was anxious about that, which would tell them that I had someone I cared about affected by that stuff. Which would narrow down my possible identity far too much.


    In all, I just felt completely helpless. I couldn''t check in on how it was going, I couldn''t do anything to speed things along, nothing. Right then, in that moment, I might as well have been a civilian.


    The cops took that jackass away, leaving me standing there trying to decide what to do next. Some part of me said that I should go home and study for finals. But I had tried that earlier and it was impossible to focus. I had read the same section five times without even processing what it was.


    In the end, I was just telling myself that taking another run would help clear my head some more, when my phone buzzed. I took a look and found a message from Eits. He was inviting me to go see something. Even as I finished reading that message, another one came through apologizing for seeming so mysterious and promising it wasn''t anything bad. Then a third message came, clarifying that he had managed to find something I might like to see, something that could possibly make me feel better. Then a fourth message said it might make me more anxious and that he wasn''t sure how I would react.


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    Before he could send a fifth message, I replied quickly, saying I would meet him and he could tell me what this thing was in person. Either way, I liked the idea of a distraction. Besides, Eits was great, and I still needed to thank him for the school thing.


    Already grateful for having something else to think about, I took off once more. This time with a destination in mind, an old massage parlor that had been closed down since the quarantine started up.


    It took me a bit longer to get there than it might have, since I had to make sure I wasn''t being followed. That would''ve been bad enough in other cases, but I really didn''t want to lead anyone to Eits. Especially if this was one of his safe spots. Which was a silly thing to think in the first place, since it was obviously just a one off, a building we could meet at. There was no reason to think he would invite me to a place that was actually important, or that he spent any regular time at.


    Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I landed on the roof of the massage place. I was about to send the boy a message that I was there, when the nearby access hatch beeped and then opened. There was a brief pause before Eits¡¯ head popped up and he waved at me. ¡°Hi! It''s me. I mean, obviously it''s me. I just realized you might''ve thought there was something suspicious about getting nothing but texts from me, then you get here and the door mysteriously opens for you. I mean, you could''ve been walking into a trap. Not that you couldn''t handle it, cuz you''re like, awesome and all. But I didn''t want to make you even more paranoid than you already are. Not that it''s not justified. Is paranoia the right word when it''s justified? I feel like there''s another word that--¡±


    Snickering a little despite myself, I hit him with a shot of black paint and moved to squat in front of the boy while he was only halfway up through the hatch, still standing on that ladder. We were face to face that way. Or at least helmet to mask.


    ¡°Dude,¡± I greeted him, ¡°let''s just go with hi.¡±


    Once I canceled the paint, Ryder gave a soft, yet audible snicker of his own before nodding. ¡°Hi.¡±


    It was my turn to feel awkward then, my mouth opening and shutting a couple times as we stayed like that. Finally, I coughed and started to speak. Unfortunately, he did the same simultaneously. Then we both stopped and waited for the others to talk, and when nothing happened, both started to talk at the same time once more. Finally, we just laughed together. It felt good to do that right then.


    Audibly taking a breath after we collected ourselves, Ryder nodded downward into the building below. ¡°I really do have something to show you, if you still want to see it? I thought it might help with the, you know, having to wait around for a cure.¡± Even as he said that, the boy started to apologize for making assumptions.


    ¡°It''s okay,¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°You''re right, I do need a distraction, something to make me stop thinking about that whole situation for awhile.¡±


    Rather than looking reassured, Eits made an uncertain noise. ¡°Oh, well, it''s not exactly going to take your mind off it. Kind of the opposite, but-- come on, I¡¯ll just show you. And if you hate it, you can hit me for making things worse.¡± He started descending the ladder, beckoning for me to follow. ¡°Just not too hard, okay? I bruise kind of easily.¡±


    Of course, that just made me think about that time when he had been beaten so severely he''d ended up needing to be taken to the emergency doctor. And why had he been hurt? Because he was trying to help me. He had been doing something for me, and ended up getting hurt for it. Really badly hurt.


    Yeah, this was definitely not the way I wanted to distract myself from the Sleeptalk situation.


    Forcing myself not to dwell on it, and to focus instead on the fact that Ryder was safe and healed now, I descended that ladder into what turned out to be some sort of manager¡¯s office in the back of the shop. As soon as we were down, the hatch closed at what was clearly a silent command from the boy himself. Then he quickly pulled out a chair behind the desk and invited me to sit down. On the nearby computer screen, I could see what looked like ongoing security camera footage of some people walking around a fancy lab in hazmat suits.


    Blinking uncertainly, I sat down before asking, ¡°What is¡­ wait, is that¡­ are those people actually doing what I think they''re doing?¡± Even as I asked that, I was reaching up to take my helmet and mask off. Ryder already knew who I was, and I trusted him to know if anyone else was approaching.


    He was already nodding. ¡°I managed to find the place where they''re working on the cure, and snuck a few mites inside. I know you can''t really contribute, but I thought it might help if you could watch what they''re doing and find out when they actually get a working sample. From what I heard already, they''ve been getting information out of Cup all day. It''s coming in trickles, since she''s making demands every time she gives him something new. But they are getting somewhere, and it sounds like they might be close. I umm, I guess I could have contacted you sooner, but I wanted to wait until there was something solid going on. That and I wasn''t sure if you''d have something else to do. I mean, you tend to keep yourself pretty busy.¡±


    Rising a bit from the seat I had started to perch on, I turned to hug the boy. He made a noise of surprise before returning it. For a moment, the two of us stayed there like that, embracing. I immediately felt awkward, but I didn''t move. Instead, I hugged him a little tighter. Then I spoke quietly. ¡°Thanks, Ryder. Not just for this. I mean, for the school thing too. Like I said, that whole situation would have been so much worse without you. We only got through that without¡­ without a hell of a lot more trouble because of you. So¡­ so thanks.¡±


    Finally, the two of us separated, and the boy tugged his own mask off. He was visibly blushing while pulling another chair over to sit down. ¡°It''s no big deal, really. I was just in the right place at the right time. There''s no way I could''ve dealt with that by myself. You guys were the ones who came in and took care of it.¡±


    ¡°With your help,¡± I pointed out with a small smile. ¡°So again, thanks. You''re kind of awesome.¡±


    We sat there together, watching the screen as Ryder turned the sound back on. Not only had he tapped into their security system, but he had a second computer set up nearby that automatically translated their sciency words in terms we could understand better. It wasn¡¯t completely perfect, and some of what those people were saying continued to go over my head. But it was enough to get the gist of things. And right now, the gist was that they were absolutely making progress. Real progress. Apparently there were a few animals that had been in or near the building (actual animals, not TONIs) when the Sleeptalk¡­ bombs went off, who ended up being affected. So they were testing the reaction those animals had to this stuff as they were putting it together. From what I could understand, the cure actually had to be administered in multiple stages. It wasn¡¯t simply a matter of having the right dosage in a single syringe and injecting it. The victims had to be brought out one step at a time.


    The point was, they were getting somewhere, finally. Amanda had given in, so far, and was telling them what they needed to know to put the cure together. I had no idea what she was getting in exchange for it, but in that moment all I cared about was that my parents might finally be able to wake up. The thought made me smile dumbly as I stared at that monitor and listened to the doctors talking back and forth at each other. My hand had found Ryder¡¯s and squeezed it a bit. This was working. My parents were going to be okay.


    That, of course, was the moment something beeped. Ryder switched the screen over to show what was apparently the exterior of that nondescript building where those doctors were working. Immediately, I saw several vans in a parking lot that was otherwise almost empty. Guys in masks with heavy weapons were already piling out of those vans and exchanging fire with a few security guards and cops near the entrance.


    Eyes widening, I bolted to my feet. ¡°They¡¯re trying to take the cure, where is that place?!¡±


    Eits gave me the address and directions, already opening the access door in the ceiling. ¡°You¡¯re gonna call your team, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed, painting blue-green under my feet. Just before launching myself upward, I added, ¡°And we¡¯re gonna show those people just what a mistake they just made.¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-10

    Touching as Ryder¡¯s concern was, I couldn¡¯t wait around for help. Still, as I¡¯d promised him, I made sure to call the others on my way to the lab. I didn¡¯t talk for long, simply telling Fred when he answered the phone to call everyone else and send them to the address I was giving them because the place that was making the cure was under attack by an unknown force. Probably the people who had been working with Pittman, and his remaining Biolems honestly, but we couldn¡¯t be completely sure about that. The point was, bad guys were trying to get into the building where the cure was being made and we had to get there right now. He immediately promised to pass that along and rally the troops. Then he told me to be careful, and not to be stupid.


    Part of me felt bad about calling in Paige and Sierra when they were supposed to be taking a break to process everything. But we needed them right now. And I knew they would never forgive me if I left them out of this. Especially if anything went wrong.


    Speaking of not leaving people out, I also sent messages to everyone else I could think of right then, from the Minority to Ten Towers to the cops, even to the Ministry just in case they didn''t know already. I didn''t care about explaining how I knew it was going on, how I knew where this place was, or any of that. The only thing that mattered was getting everyone there before these assholes, whoever they were, managed to fuck up the cure.


    I was using the heads-up GPS in my helmet to navigate to this place since I had never been there before. It wasn''t anywhere near the Conservator''s building, or any of the major hospitals. It was some sort of nondescript office structure that didn''t advertise itself as some sort of advanced medical or science lab in any way. Which was probably the point. After all, they had to assume that other people would try to interrupt the creation of the cure for one reason or another. Keeping it quiet made sense. Even if that did leave the question of how these people found it. On the other hand, Ryder had managed to, so it clearly wasn''t impossible.


    The entire time I was heading that way, rocketing my way across the rooftops using every trick I could to coax more speed out of my powers, I just kept passing over the worst case scenarios. What if they destroyed all records of the cure? What if they killed the people who knew the most about the technical aspects of making it? What if they took the cure and did something terrible to it? If this was a cure to Sleeptalk, did that mean they could corrupt it and infect everyone with a version of that? I had no idea how that sort of thing worked, but my brain sure was good at thinking up potential doom and gloom scenarios.


    In the past, the other thing I would have been doing on my way over there was to start covering myself with paint for the upcoming situation. But I had learned better by now. I always kept my costume, inside and out, covered in paint so I wouldn''t have to do it on the fly. It was a mix of actual designs and random splotches of color. I had realized that it was stupid to wait until I was in the middle of a fight or on my way to one before setting up my paint. This way, even from the very moment I had left Ryder back there (hell, even before I''d shown up at that place), I''d been as ready as I could be for anything.


    So, the only thing I had to do on that front, as I was racing toward that lab, was touch up my prepared paint a little bit. I would have preferred to know more about what I was walking into (or rather, running into at full speed), especially if there were any Touched involved, so I could adjust accordingly. Fortunately, Ryder had promised to keep watching them on those cameras to let me know if anything like that presented itself, or if he could figure out anything else useful about them.


    The others checked in when I was about three-quarters of the way there, letting me know they would be there as soon as possible. While, of course, adding their own requests that I not do anything too stupidly dangerous in the meantime.


    That, of course, was silly. Of course I wasn''t going to do anything excessively dangerous. On the other hand, considering that this was about stopping people from screwing up the cure for my parents and all those other infected people, my bar for what was excessive was pretty damn high right then. I disconnected the call before any comparisons between where my bar and theirs were could be made.


    Just before I made it there, Ryder sent me a quick message saying that there seemed to be three unknown Touched in that parking lot. One in a dark green suit and tie who could absorb kinetic energy and send it back out as shockwaves, another wearing a set of heavy blue body armor who could manipulate concrete and wood, and a third in a long gray raincoat who seemed to be able to control rats and mice. Also, apparently those people had back-up who were delaying the arrival of cops and Star-Touched alike, by intercepting them several blocks away in either direction. Both the Minority and Ten Towers had been delayed that way, and the other groups had their own problems. Just like before when Amanda had been attacked, there were only so many active Star-Touched and such in the city. They were being kept occupied with other situations. Even if I did want to scream that nothing else mattered the way this did, the innocent people being threatened in those situations probably would have disagreed. The logical part of me understood that. The other part wanted to rant and yell a bit.


    And then there wasn''t time to think about any of that anymore. And I had kept myself distracted through the entire trip, moving on autopilot with a focus purely on getting there as quickly as possible. But now I was there. I landed on the building across the street from the place in question. Unfortunately, I barely had a chance to take in the briefest sight of people down in the parking lot before Eits sent a huge bolded warning right across my helmet heads-up GPS that read ¡®DUCK NOW!¡¯


    Well, obviously, I did. Without a single question, I hit the roof, flattening myself against it. A second later, several loud cracks filled the air as snipers shot at where I had just been. There was a slightly raised brick wall around the edge of the roof, and I had dropped behind it. I heard a couple more shots bounce off that wall right next to my head. These guys were serious. They had been watching for anyone. Hell, for all I knew, they had watched my approach. They obviously had spotters if they had intercepted those other groups so effectively, duh.


    Laying there on my back as another shot ricocheted off the wall just beside my head, I took a second to collect myself. In that time, Ryder put a semi transparent sketch of the surrounding area on my display. There were marks showing where the snipers were set up on the other buildings, including notes beside them about what floor and window they were shooting from if they weren''t on the roof. He was letting me know what I was dealing with, and really living up to his full Touched name of Eye In The Sky. This was exactly the sort of thing he did for La Casa. At least, when he wasn''t breaking through computer systems and hacking alarms.


    The rest of my team probably would have preferred that I keep my head down and wait for them to show. But I couldn''t do that. Those people down there could break through the doors of the lab any minute. Ryder had made it clear that he didn''t know how much longer the defenses could hold. Obviously, the lab had been heavily protected and secured, hence why it was taking the force so long to actually break in. But that couldn''t last forever.


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    No, I definitely needed to do something now. It didn''t matter that there were so many people down there. It didn''t matter that they were clearly equipped and prepared to assault this defended position. It didn''t matter that there were three new (or at least unidentified) Touched down there. And it sure as hell didn''t matter that they knew I was here and where I was. All of that was important, obviously. But in the end, what mattered was that they were going to hurt the people in that building, and do something bad to the cure that was supposed to help my parents, Irelyn, Trivial, and all those others. Whatever their actual intentions, they were a threat to my family, and to this city getting back on its feet. They were a threat to all of that. And no matter how dangerous it was, no matter how much I didn''t know about the situation, I couldn¡¯t just sit here. There was no way of knowing if the others would show up in time. I had to stop them, right now.


    On the other hand, I didn''t need to be stupid about this. Especially since Ryder sent me a message saying that he had done a quick search based on what he was looking at, and was pretty sure these sniper rifles were the sort that could probably punch through my orange protection. Which may or may not have been true, but really wasn''t worth testing the hard way.


    So, the first thing I did was paint the roof under myself pink. Part of me felt bad about the damage I was going to do to this place, but I pushed that out of my mind before breaking through that pink paint. As I dropped, I quickly oriented myself to land on my feet on the floor below. This place was another office building, and I was standing next to what was clearly a dentists¡¯ chair. Two guys, one who was clearly the dentist himself and the other who had been getting his teeth cleaned, were crouched in terror on the other side of the room. They had heard all the fighting outside, especially the gunshots hitting the wall above their heads. I could see the phones in their hands as they both kept trying to call 911. Seeing me there, they started to cry out, before looking relieved when they recognized who I was. And boy was that still a strange feeling, to see a couple grown men look at me like that, as though they trusted me to protect them. Even now, after several months of this, I still felt a strange sensation in my stomach at that.


    Blurting a quick word of caution for them to stay down, I used green wings on my arms to speed myself up a bit as I ran for the door. Once I was in the hallway, I took the nearby stairs down another level, simply hopping over the railing before dropping to the next landing. Eits had set up a command word for me to turn the map he gave me on and off. I checked it once more, making sure I had the right level. Then I ran through the nearest office door. This one looked like a therapist''s place, which was just great. The receptionist and several clients were cowering together behind her desk, and I shouted for them to stay down as well while running straight at the window ahead of me. When I was four steps away, I hit it with pink paint. When I was three steps away, I hit the floor just in front of it with blue-green paint. When I was two steps away, I activated orange paint on myself. And when I was one step away, I jumped on that painted floor while extending my hands to hit either side of the window with shots of red to match my gloves. I was instantly sent rocketing through that window like a cannonball. The snipers, who were still trying to shoot me on the roof, were taken by surprise when I came through that window a couple floors down from where they expected me to be.


    My aim was just right, thanks to the map that Ryder had provided. There was a guy with a rifle leaning out of the window right across from this one. He was aiming up at where I had been, and when he caught a glimpse of me coming straight at him from his own level, he tried to adjust too late. I crashed into him at full speed, knocking him back into the building he had been leaning out of and onto his back with a surprised grunt. Before he could recover, I kicked the rifle out of his hands before punching him in the face twice in rapid succession with a bit of purple-augmented strength. While he was dazed, I used pink paint on the floor and shoved his hands through it before holding them there as the paint wore off so he would be trapped in place. Which, of course, made him curse up a storm. Not that I cared. I was already leaving.


    The rest of the snipers had obviously figured out where I was, considering the bullets that were now being directed at the window I had just crashed through. That time, I went straight up, using black-pink on the ceiling over my head to turn that spot liquid so it would fall away, leaving a hole for me to jump through. But I couldn''t risk losing them for long. I needed to get these guys to change their aim to keep shooting at me, so those innocent people down there wouldn''t catch a stray bullet.


    As I reached the next floor, Ryder sent a new message, letting me know that the guy who had been on this roof was on his way down to intercept. Well, we couldn''t have that. Instead of continuing up through the next ceiling as I had been planning, I red-painted myself down to the end of the corridor I had found myself in. There was a stairwell entrance there, and I was able to crouch against the wall just above it. Ryder sent a countdown, letting me know exactly when the guy would be arriving. I couldn''t hear anything at all, which either meant he was really good at moving silently, or he had Touched-Tech help. Probably both, to be honest. But either way, I would have had no idea he was there without that help from Eits. Which made several times in very short order that he had played this role to help me deal with a problem. I really did owe him a really big fruit basket or something. While thinking about that, I sent a circle of red against the nearby wall to get ready.


    Thanks to Ryder, I was ready the instant this next guy came through that door. He was holding some sort of submachine gun, having apparently abandoned his sniper rifle for it. The weapon was held out in front of him as he silently came through the door, looking in every direction. Every direction except one, that was. He forgot to look up.


    Extending both hands, I used one to hit the barrel of his gun with red paint. My other hand rapped against the top of the helmet he was wearing. These guys looked like they were cosplaying as swat troops with stuff they had picked from the army surplus store.


    The guy looked up while simultaneously trying to grab for his gun as it was ripped out his hand and sent flying. But I tackled him to the ground. Before he even understood what was happening, I had his hands and knees trapped in the floor. That was two of the snipers down, and two more to go. Which didn''t exactly help with those guys who were trying to break into the lab, but at least I was making progress. And help would be here soon.


    And that thought, naturally, was the cue for two new messages to come through. Because I clearly hadn''t learned better than to let myself feel optimistic yet.


    The first message was from Paige, letting me know that they had been intercepted by yet another group. Because of course these people had had even more troops waiting to ambush reinforcements. Seriously, who the hell were they, and who were they working for? Was all this really just people connected to Pittman, or was it something else? The others were fighting their way through, but it would take a minute.


    But it was the next message that was far worse. Unlike the one from Paige, it wasn''t a text. Instead, it was an actual call from Ryder. Whatever was going on, he wanted to tell me himself in audio. That made me even more nervous, but I accepted the call and spoke simply. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°First, La Casa¡¯s on the way,¡± he informed me in a quick voice. ¡°Blackjack doesn''t want this cure to get screwed up any more than you do. So we''re on your side. But they won''t get here in time. Those people down there aren''t trying to break into the building anymore, Paintball.¡± He hesitated very slightly, and I could hear the grimace and worry in his voice. ¡°It looks like they''re setting up explosive charges all around it. They''re not breaching charges. They''re the sort that are meant to bring down the whole building.¡±


    I was already pushing myself back up to sprint down the hall, shooting a line of red paint toward the submachine gun to yank it into my hand while blurting, ¡°You mean--¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed without me needing to even finish the sentence, ¡°if you don''t get out there and stop them right now, they''re going to blow up that entire building.


    ¡°Then the cure, and everyone in there, will be gone.¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-11

    Again, I wished the others were here. But they weren¡¯t, and I couldn¡¯t wait. No more delaying, no more taking it nice and carefully. I couldn''t afford to pick these guys off gradually. And I definitely couldn''t wait for any reinforcements to show up. It didn¡¯t matter how close they were. Not when the people down there were about to blow up the building where the cure for Sleeptalk was being made. Hell, even if it hadn''t been the place where they were working on that, I still couldn''t have just stood by and let this happen. That was a building with innocent people inside. Whatever happened, no matter how dangerous it was to go straight at a heavily armed force that included several Touched of unknown limitations and strengths, I had to stop them right the hell now.


    Of course, I immediately realized, while running down that hallway, that having Ryder here physically would actually have helped a hell of a lot. After all, if he could get his mites into those bomb things that these guys were setting up, he could have disabled them without any problems. Unfortunately, he wasn''t here. And there was no time to get him. I was just going to have to deal with this and stop them before they finished setting up those bombs.


    All of that ran through my head while I was racing through the office corridor toward the wall at the far end. There was no window there, but that was okay. I could make my own exit just fine.


    To that end, I used the hand that wasn¡¯t clutching that submachine gun to hit the wall with black-pink paint, turning it to liquid just in time to launch myself through it. Just in case, I activated a large orange blotch of paint across the inside of my suit. And sure enough, the very second I appeared, there were two more gunshots. One was a bit too quick, his bullet going past just ahead of me a moment before I passed through that space. The other sniper, however, was basically right on target with the first try. His bullet hit my shoulder. And boy did it not feel great. I¡¯d been right to try to take these guys down carefully before, without letting them shoot me. Back when that was an actual option. My paint did manage to stop the bullet from penetrating (I probably wouldn¡¯t have had much of an upper torso left otherwise), but it still hurt quite a bit. As did the first sniper¡¯s follow-up shot a second later, while I was still airborne. That one hit me in the back of my left leg. Just like that, I had been hit twice by a couple shots from very powerful sniper rifles. I would have deep bruises, at the very least.


    On the plus side (if there was a plus side to getting shot), I knew where the snipers were. They¡¯d had to reposition and show themselves to aim at me. Even in the chaos of leaping through the window, even through the distracting pain, and my own near-panic, I could tell exactly where they were standing. In mid-fall, I raised that borrowed gun and pulled the trigger, holding it down long enough for six bullets to emerge first, then adjusted my aim and fired another five with a quick pull. Despite its rapid fire, the gun had almost no kick to it. Probably thanks to Touched-Tech.


    My aim wasn¡¯t perfect. Not exactly. Of the first six bullets, two of them missed. The third struck the scope of the rifle, shattering it, the fourth hit the man¡¯s thumb, and the fifth and sixth bullets hit the butt of the gun, thoroughly damaging it and knocking the weapon from his already-injured grasp. It went sailing off the roof, disarming the man while he howled in pain from his injured thumb.


    As for the other sniper, the first and last bullets missed. The middle three hit the man in the trigger finger as well as the trigger guard of the weapon itself. He dropped his as well, doubling over with a high-pitched squeal.


    Just like that, there were no more gunshots. Not from those sniper guys, at least. Some distant part of me was screaming about the fact that I was shooting at what appeared to be normal human people. But the rest of me didn¡¯t care. They would live with a few injuries. Hell, the way medicine was these days, they¡¯d be fine in a week or so.


    My shoulder and leg were stinging badly. I had used the biggest bit of orange paint that I could, and the two shots had still very nearly put me down. I could already hear Paige going off on me for taking that sort of risk. I''d had no idea if my paint could even stand up against something that strong. That was the whole reason I had been trying to hit those guys carefully.


    But oh well, I''d have no other choice but to take the risk. Or to take the much bigger one that those people wouldn''t finish setting up the bombs before I could take care of their snipers the careful way.


    And speaking of those other guys, they realized pretty quickly that their snipers weren''t covering them anymore. Mostly when I hit two of them with green-red paint while sailing over their heads so they could be yanked together. Thanks to the green added in, it wouldn''t hold them together, using up its pull all in one quick burst. But it did pull them hard, slamming the two painfully into one another with enough force to make them drop their guns.


    Just like that, in the time and distance it took for me to leap out of the building and dive toward the parking lot below, I¡¯d managed to hit four of their guys. Two had lost their rifles completely and were probably both too injured and too far away to jump back into being a problem immediately, and the other two were tangled up with one another and disoriented. It would take them a few precious seconds to collect themselves.


    A tall lamp post in the middle of the parking lot came rushing up to me, even as I inverted myself in mid-air and hit it with a quick shot of pink, which I disabled immediately. As my feet collided with the post, it bent backward partway before snapping back, launching me further across the lot. By that point, a couple more of the guys down there had already taken notice of me and opened fire. But they were using simple pistols, and my orange paint was still active. If getting hit by the sniper rifles had been like taking a baseball to the arm, these shots were more like small pebbles. Not nearly enough to distract me from snapping my arm out with my own borrowed gun, sending a short burst of fire. One bullet hit a man in the foot, knocked his weapon from his hand, and grazed his arm. His partner took a bullet in the middle of his hand and another in his leg.


    If I¡¯d tried, if I wanted to, they would be dead. But that wasn¡¯t me. I couldn¡¯t be that sort of person, no matter what these guys were doing. With Touched-Tech medicine, they could come out of having a bullet hit their hand, leg, shoulder, and so on without permanent injury. Without dying. But killing them¡­ no. I wouldn¡¯t do that.


    By that point, I hit a second lamp post on the opposite edge of the parking lot with a spot of blue just before colliding with it. On impact, I rebounded off the thing, sending myself down at an angle before colliding with one of the guys who was trying to aim at me.


    Needless to say, as fast as I was going when I hit the guy and took him to the ground, he didn''t have any interest in continuing to fight. The three guys around us, however, did. They all spun toward me, pistols raised as they sighted in. But in that moment, even as the orange paint I¡¯d been using up to this point was nearly out, I activated a different spot of it. This one was smaller, better suited for handgun fire. And, more importantly, it had a bit of blue mixed into it. Enough of it to rebound some of the damage as they shot me, making all three men recoil and cry out in pain and confusion, their guns bouncing off the pavement. I had kept the blue-orange paint on the inside of my costume so they didn''t have any indication of what had caused the damage reflection. I really wanted everyone in the city who might ever take a shot at me to second-guess themselves and wonder if they would be taking some of that damage themselves if they tried it.


    Those three guys had no desire to continue trying to shoot me. Nor did the two I had shot down here, or the two snipers up on the other roofs. Between those seven and the two I¡¯d forced to collide with one another, nine of the Prev troops were down or occupied. Leaving, as far as I knew, another two dozen still around here, scattered through the parking lot. Several of those were working on setting up those explosives, but that still left around twenty armed and very pissed off troops. And that wasn''t counting those few Touched.


    I had hit these guys hard straight off the bat, but this whole thing wasn''t nearly over yet.


    As if in evidence of that, several of the guys shouted warnings as a handful of guns were pointed in my direction while I was still crouched on top of the man I had just crashed into. I made a show of trying to leap out of the way, acting like I couldn''t move quickly enough. Sure enough, they took the bait and opened fire while my protection and damage reflection were still going strong. All four of those guys who had been stupid enough to shoot ended up regretting it as they stumbled and cursed upon taking their own medicine. You''d think they¡¯d learn better already, but this had been happening in just a few seconds. They hadn''t really had time to process any of it. And I didn''t really plan on giving them the opportunity. The only way I was going to get through this and stop those bombs was by moving too quickly for these guys to collect themselves.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    But, of course, I wasn''t lucky enough to get through this without any problems. Even as I started to throw myself back in the air, the lights suddenly went out and I was encased in something solid. It was concrete. One of those Touched had noticed what was going on and trapped me with his cement-and-wood manipulation power. At least, we assumed it was just cement and wood. That was what Ryder had seen him using through those cameras. For all we knew, he could manipulate plenty of other things that simply weren¡¯t around here right now. That was the problem with going up against a Touched you knew almost nothing about and had only seen for a few minutes through a security camera in a single situation. It was hard to know what they could do or what any of their weaknesses were. God knew I¡¯d used that to my advantage before. I was using it to my advantage right now by hiding my blue-orange paint.


    Just as that thought passed through my head, I was given more proof when the ground under my feet suddenly became incredibly hot. It immediately started melting through my shoes. Either this guy could heat up the things he was manipulating, or one of the other two could. Whichever, I was about to be given a very nasty hot foot, because the temperature was still rising dramatically. And, of course, my blue-orange paint had just worn off in that moment, so my feet were really feeling the burn, enough to make me reflexively cry out.


    At least, they felt it until I activated the yellow-blue feather designs I had already placed on my shoes. That new combination I¡¯d been experimenting with lifted me a few inches off the ground. It wasn''t anything like flying, and I couldn''t move very well that way, but it did let me float just a little bit. Which stopped the incredibly super-heated concrete from melting through my shoes entirely.


    And speaking of being super-heated, there was something a bit strange about all this. The stone itself wasn¡¯t melting or cracking even under that incredible temperature. I was no expert, but I felt like it should be showing some reaction. So whatever power this guy or one of his partners was using, it was apparently able to heat up material without letting it suffer the actual effects from that.


    I was doing my best to avoid touching any of the walls of this place, but it wasn''t easy. There were only a couple inches of clearance all around me. It had only been a handful of seconds, and this enclosed space was already turning into an oven. Which was the point, I realized. This wasn''t just about trapping me, they wanted to literally burn me alive in here.


    The moment that thought came to me, I tried hitting the spot in front of me with pink paint so I could break through. But my paint immediately boiled away before I could even use it. The surface was too hot for the paint to stick properly. Getting out of here wasn''t going to be quite that easy. A fact that made it harder to concentrate. I could feel myself starting to lose it, the panic rising. Between the heat and darkness within this claustrophobically small space, it would¡¯ve been so easy to give into that panic. There was a message across my visor from Ryder frantically asking if I was okay, but I couldn''t pay attention to it right then. I was too busy trying not to collapse into a sobbing ball. I could be afraid later. There wasn¡¯t time for that right now. There wasn''t time to think about how easily I could die right here, not when I was the only one who could stop those bombs.


    I had to think quickly. Which was helped when I activated a few orange shield images across my shoulders and arms. It was tempting to add in more blue to reflect the heat, but I wasn''t sure what that would accomplish. Would it send the damage back to the person responsible for making the concrete hot, or send it to the concrete itself, which was already protected from that heat? I wasn''t sure, and I only had so much paint to work with. Right now I just needed protection for a few seconds so I could think of a way to get out of here.


    Okay, okay, so I couldn''t paint any of the walls in this space. The paint would simply burn away. But I could still paint myself. What could I do with that? What sort of paint could I put on myself that would help me get out of this trap? There had to be something, some combination that would help.


    Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and told myself to think. Panicking wasn''t going to help. I had to push all that out of my mind and focus on getting out here. Not just for myself, but for my parents and everyone else who had been infected by Sleeptalk. Those bombs were going to be ready to go off any moment now. I couldn''t let that happen. Please, please don''t let that happen.


    My eyes opened in the darkness. A thought had come to mind, but I didn''t know if it would work. It was a new combination, one I hadn''t done before. Still, it was worth a shot. First, I activated a couple white spots across my costume to light this place up so I could see. Then I focused on my new plan. Across the open spots of my costume, I created an intricate web of blue-pink paint. Then I took a deep breath, another thing that seemed to be difficult in this enclosed space, and activated that new combination.


    The pink paint made things easy to break. Which would''ve been good to get through the concrete walls, except I couldn''t actually paint them without it boiling away instantly. But that was where the blue came in. The blue paint tended to push things, even effects. Like the way it pushed damage back to where it had come from when combined with orange.


    In this case, I was hoping it would push the effect of the pink paint outward so it would affect more than just the surface it was painted on. Which might have seemed like a bit of a long shot, but I had to try something. The heat in this place was becoming unbearable even with my protection, and that guy out there was showing no sign of letting me out.


    A shock of relief and exhilaration ran through me in the next second, as I walked up to see the stone over my head quiver a little. It was cracking under the heat it was being subjected to. Cracking despite its protection, because I had made it brittle. The new combination was working! The blue paint was pushing the effect of the pink out away from me.


    I have no idea how far it would reach, or how much it reduced the effect. Right then, it didn''t matter. I painted blue-green spots across my shoes, then renewed my orange protection before disabling the yellow-blue floating. Immediately, I dropped back to the ground. I could feel the heat there by my shoes and feet, but it only lasted for an instant before I was rocking it upward to slam into that newly-fragile concrete ceiling. Into¡­ and through. My experiment had weakened the surface enough for me to break right through it, erupting out of the trap with a shout of relief that I couldn''t contain. It was a shout that morphed immediately into a laugh, both because I felt such intense relief that I just had to laugh, and because I wanted to mock those guys. I didn''t want them to know just how close they had come to killing me, or how terrified I had been for those few seconds.


    Instead, I forced my voice to sound as cheery as possible as I called out, ¡°Well thanks, I was a bit chilly, but I think I¡¯m warmed up enough now!¡±


    I could see the concrete-manipulating Touched now, in his blue armor standing next to the broken dome I had just burst out. He was staggering backward, looking shocked that I had managed to escape. Well, his body language was shocked, anyway. He was wearing a matching blue metal helmet that made it impossible to see his expression.


    Before he could recover, I hit the man with a shot of red-blue paint. This combination did the opposite of the yellow-blue. Rather than making the subject float, it yanked them hard straight down to the ground. Before the guy could even start to recover from his surprise at my escape, he was slammed down hard against the cement.


    If there had been more time, I would have followed up with that. But there wasn''t. I had to stop those bombs. Nor was there time to recover the gun I¡¯d dropped while encased in that concrete trap. So, even as the guys around me were reacting to my escape, I used a quick shot of red against the edge of one of their vans to yank myself that way. Several of the guys tried to shoot at me, but they were too slow. I managed to hit the top of the van with a blue spot just before colliding with it, to send myself forward higher and faster even as several bullets whistled through the air around me.


    Right there, at the corner of the building, I could see one of the men attaching a bomb and starting to program it. A bit further on, another was doing the same thing. Immediately, I hit that first guy with a shot of red to yank him away from the bomb before extending my feet as I collided with the second as hard as I could. He went down, and I rolled over him before snapping my hand out to shoot a puddle of blue at the feet of the next guy, launching him into the air away from the bomb he was setting up.


    Too slow, this was all still too slow! Even as I rolled across the ground and hit yet another guy in the ankle with a shot of red to pull him off his feet, I knew it wasn¡¯t enough. There were more guys all around the building. Even if I managed to stop a few of the bombs, the gang was already starting to retreat. They knew the rest of those explosives were about to go off. I had to move faster! I had to be better! Everything I was doing, every trick I had in my arsenal, it wasn¡¯t enough. No one else was here. It was just me, by myself. And no matter how fast I was right now, no matter how many paint combinations I pulled out or how good my aim was, I couldn¡¯t hit these guys fast enough to stop all of those bombs. Some of them were going to go off, and then¡­ no. No, I couldn¡¯t let that happen. I wouldn¡¯t. My parents, my family, the city, all those people, they were-- I had to disable those bombs! I had to save the cure, had to save all the doctors in there ¡­ I had to¡­had to¡­


    I had to stop, and look over at the thing hovering there in the air next to my head. Even as shouting went up for the men to retreat, their voices sounded distant. They didn¡¯t matter. Only this mattered. My hand rose, extending that way.


    And then I found the glowing orb with my grasping fingers, and Touched for the second time.

 Learning Lessons 31-12

    I was on my knees in a gray void, staring at blank rocky ground under me. A thick fog coiled around my body while I breathed slowly in and out several times. Frozen. Time was frozen back out in the real world. I remembered that from what Rubi and Peyton had described about the situations when they had Touched. And, of course, from the first time this had happened to me.


    The first time. The first time. I was here again. I had Touched that glowing Orb again. I¡¯d heard of this sort of thing before. It wasn¡¯t exactly common, to say the least. But some Touched did manage to Touch again. From what I¡¯d heard, there were several different ways something like that could play out. In some cases, your powers completely changed to something entirely unrelated to what you¡¯d had before. Some people had had one set of powers, Touched the orb again, and came out of it with a completely different set that had nothing to do with what they¡¯d had in the first place.


    No. No, absolutely not. Maybe some people would have been excited by the prospect of Touching again, of getting new powers. But the very idea of potentially losing my powers left my head shaking frantically. No, no, no, whatever happened, don¡¯t let it be that. I loved my powers. They were my powers. My paint. Please, God, don¡¯t let me lose them. I didn¡¯t care if whatever came next made me stronger, or was better overall. I wanted my powers. I wanted to keep my paint, damn it. They were mine, they were part of who I was. I couldn¡¯t just change that. I didn¡¯t want to.


    That wasn¡¯t a foregone conclusion, thankfully. Otherwise I probably would have panicked even more. I hadn¡¯t even intended to touch the Orb, to be honest. I hadn¡¯t thought about what I was doing at the time. Just like the first time, it was as though simply seeing it so close to me had been sort of hypnotic. I had forgotten about everything else going on in that moment, and the only thing that had mattered was reaching out to Touch. It was like the rest of my brain had shut off. But now it was active again, and the very thought of losing these powers made me almost hyperventilate. It was like I was being threatened with losing an arm. Not exactly the same, since technically I would get a different arm in place of it, but still. Even though I¡¯d only had these specific powers for a few months, I didn¡¯t want to lose them. They were part of what made me, me. They had become an integral part of my life as I¡¯d learned so much more about who I was.


    The other options about what might happen, as far as I understood them, were that someone who Touched for a second time could get added powers on top of what they already had, or their powers could be mixed up somehow. Technically they would be the same powers, but details about what they could do, limitations and strengths, that sort of thing might change. The established powers would be essentially remixed in some way. It could be as simple as the specific paint colors I had mixing up which of them did what (which would be so incredibly confusing both for me and for everyone else I was sure), or completely changing what effects were available entirely. That possibility was--yeah I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about that, to be honest.


    Was I just being stupid or weird to obsess this much over how I didn¡¯t want to lose my powers? Very few people ever Touched at all, and fewer still Touched for a second time. I was being given an incredibly rare opportunity, and the thought that kept bouncing through my mind was that I didn¡¯t want to lose the powers I already had? Something about that sounded incredibly selfish, but I couldn¡¯t help it. My paints were mine. They were part of who I was. Whatever came next, I desperately hoped it wouldn¡¯t involve losing the paints that had already become such a huge part of me.


    Climbing to my feet, I told myself to just focus on what was in front of me. Whatever came next, I would deal with it. No matter what changed about my powers, I was still me. And what really mattered was getting through this and back out there into the real world so I could stop those bombs from going off. Things might have been frozen out there, or maybe time just didn¡¯t pass in here, or whatever, but I still needed to be ready. Even if part of my brain was screaming about how much more complicated this actually made everything. The situation had already been difficult enough as it was when I was using powers I was actually familiar with. Now I was supposed to go back out there and stop those bombs when the¡­ the powers I had access to might be completely different and unfamiliar? It was a thought that made me shiver, even as I tried to force it down. It didn¡¯t matter. Whatever happened, whatever I came out of this with, I would deal with it. I would find a way to use that to stop those bombs and save the people in that building, and the cure. Even if I had to do it with completely new powers I didn¡¯t understand at all.


    Left with those lingering thoughts in the back of my mind, I took a step forward while looking around hesitantly. The last time I had done this, I saw images in the fog. Images of what had led me to being in that particular situation. This time¡­ yeah, I still saw images. They floated into view through that fog. I saw myself as Paintball jumping off a building before using red paint to pull myself across to a billboard before bounding off of it. I saw myself skating along the side of another building. I saw myself fleeing from Cu¨¦lebre, getting hit by Pencil, helping Paige escape from my family¡¯s people, saving Peyton, meeting Wren, fighting Janus, and so much more.


    I saw brief glimpses of everything that had happened over the past few months. Not just myself as Paintball, but as Cassidy too. I saw myself with Izzy, getting to know my new sister. I saw us in my bed, talking quietly about all the private things we couldn¡¯t let the rest of our family hear. I saw myself in school, talking to all those people who couldn¡¯t know the truth about my life. I saw myself eating lasagne with Ryder, sitting on the roof talking to Paige, skating by myself in the park. I saw all of that and more, everything about what my world had become in these past months. And in the end, I saw myself writing on that piece of paper in the hospital, recording myself as nonbinary, finally coming to an acceptance of who I was after so many years of that being shut off from me thanks to the memory wipe. Everything that had happened, everything I had learned and experienced over these months, had led me to becoming who I really was.


    ¡°Cassidy Evans,¡± I murmured softly to myself while looking through all those fog-images, ¡°this is your life. Sure hope you¡¯re ready for it to become even more ridiculous, because boy do we have plans.¡± After giving voice to the hypothetical figures behind all this, I swallowed hard and took another step forward. ¡°Okay! Whatever you¡¯ve got in mind, I¡¯m ready for it! I get the point. I didn¡¯t choose what happened to me before, and it ended up making me a better person. Even the bad stuff was worth it, just to know what I do and to have experienced what I have. It¡¯s scary and exhausting and all that, but it¡¯s mine. It¡¯s my life. Whatever you¡¯re about to hit me with, I¡¯ll roll with it! I¡¯ll take what you¡¯ve got, do my best, and find a way through. I¡¯ll save those people, I¡¯ll save the cure. I¡¯ll help my parents and everyone else who was infected. I¡¯ll do what I need to! No matter what happens, no matter what you change my powers to, no matter how hard it gets. I¡¯m ready.¡±


    As if in response to my words, the images in the fog started to shift more rapidly, spinning up and around me. The rest of this gray world fell away, as the images took over everything I could see. They grew larger and larger, like movie screens coming toward me from all sides. They covered me, filling up everything even as that woman¡¯s voice spoke those same two words I¡¯d heard before. The same two words everyone who Touched heard in these moments.


    ¡°Summus Proelium.¡±


    With those words, every other image fell away, and I saw myself. I saw Paintball, standing there in costume, in the fog. I saw who and what I was right then, the way others saw me, with all those colorful designs all over my suit and helmet. That was me, the person I had become over these past few months. So much had changed already. After a few more months passed, how different would I be?


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The larger, more relevant question right now, of course, was how different I would be in just a minute. I had Touched for a second time. Would that change my powers entirely, mix them up, or give me additional ones? I had no idea, but I would deal with it either way. Part of me was still afraid of losing what had become such an integral part of who I was. But watching those images of myself from these past months had reminded me that I could deal with change. No matter what happened, I would still be myself. And whatever I was capable of once I came out of this, I would do whatever it took to stop those bombs.


    As that thought filled my head, the fog fell away. Everything around me vanished, and I found myself back in the real world. The orb was gone, and most of those troops were still retreating. They were leaving because the bombs were about to go off. Well, most of them, anyway.


    Even as I processed that, a new concrete wall came up in front of me, trying to block me in. Worse, a chorus of squeaks filled the air as dozens of rats and mice leapt at me, biting into my costume and yanking me to the ground. The rodents were obviously too strong for their size, able to keep me pinned against the ground. That rat-controller guy had joined the fray.


    As if having two Touched trapping me wasn¡¯t enough, that third one had just shot himself in the side of the head and was extending his hand as he prepared to hit me with the kinetic energy he had absorbed. Three Fell-Touched, all of them stopping me from getting to those bombs. All of them stopping me from saving the cure that would help my parents and all those other people.


    No, not anymore. They weren''t going to stop me. Even as that determination came over me, I was suddenly free from the rats. They had let me go.


    Wait, no, it wasn''t that. They didn''t release me. They were still trying to hang on with their little teeth. But they kept slipping right through me. Even as I looked down in confusion, I could see several of the rats try to bite me again. Where they were biting, my costume distorted and moved out of the way, like liquid. Not just my costume, but my body underneath as well. It was like I wasn''t solid, like they were trying to bite into a puddle or something. It was like¡­ like¡­


    Like I was made of paint.


    In that second, the guy in the green costume sent his concussive blast my way. I had just enough time to make a sound of worry before the blast slammed into me. Just like that, my body blew apart into hundreds of droplets. It was a baffling, almost indescribable experience. I saw through every piece of myself at once. I was every droplet of my entire body as it burst like a water balloon under that assault. Or, more accurately, like a balloon that had been filled with paint.


    All I could think in that second, as hundreds of pieces of me were exploding in every direction was that I wanted it to be in one piece again. And just like that, the droplets snapped back together and I was me once more.


    The guy who had hit me with that blast was just making a horrified sound at the sight of my body exploding into droplets like that, before it became a noise of confusion when I reformed.


    Without thinking, I extended my hand and hit him with a shot of red paint. To my immense relief, it worked. I hadn''t lost my other powers. The paint smacked the guy in the face before another shot against the distant light pole yanked him that way while he was still trying to come to terms with what he had just seen.


    That was when I felt a bite at my ankle, followed by more around my legs as the rats tried to yank me down again. Wait, I could feel them again. They could physically bite me once more. Or at least, they could for a second, before I felt something shift in my head and the ones trying to climb up my leg fell through as it turned to a liquid state once more.


    Then I realized the truth. Whatever these new powers, whatever my body had turned into, I could shift between that and my old form. And I could only use my regular paint in my solid body. Which I shifted into right then, to make sure I could do so on command. If I wanted to shoot paint and use the old powers, I had to be in my normal physical state. But on the other hand, if I shifted myself to be made of paint¡­


    A thought shifted my body once more, back to that state just as the guy who manipulated concrete sent a wide fist made out of it flying toward my face. The concrete hit and passed through me as my body, costume included, transitioned to that liquid form. Which left that guy gaping at me in confusion.


    My head twisted around, looking over my shoulder at the concrete fist that had just passed through me. It was covered in a mixture of my paint. The entire construct was painted. And seeing that made something click in my head. An instinct or whatever. My hand extended that way, and the paint that had covered the construct was yanked off of it. But it stayed in the form of that oversized fist, a colorful fist made of paint. But this paint wasn¡¯t liquid. It had adapted the same physical characteristics as the thing that passed through it. In this case, concrete.


    Before the man who had sent that fist at me could even start to recover from what he was seeing, my hand snapped out. With a thought and that motion, I sent my own concrete-like paint fist flying at him. With a heavy thud sound followed by a cry of pain, it collided with the man''s face and knocked him to the ground. He¡¯d been hit by what amounted to a taste of his own medicine.


    All of that had happened in just a few seconds, but that was a few seconds too many when bombs were involved. Bombs that were about to go off and wipe out all the work that had been done on that cure, while killing all those people making it.


    With a backwards swipe of my arm, I sent my paint-fist sideways to smack one of those bombs right off the side of the building, sending it flying off to the far side of the lot. That would still damage the area, of course. But I wasn''t thinking about that. All I was thinking about was getting those bombs away from the building itself. To that end, I lunged that way with the help of a shot of blue under my feet after shifting back to my solid self. Several quick shots of red hit a few more bombs attached to the wall before I hit that far side of the lot with another shot to yank them over there to join the first. By then, my blue-assisted leap had carried me to the corner of the building, as I sent a spray all the way down the line of bombs there to yank them off as well and send them out of the way.


    Too slow, too slow, too fucking slow! I had to move faster!


    The man responsible for the rats was standing at the opposite end of the building, near where more bombs had been placed. More bombs I couldn''t see from here. Without thinking, fueled by instinct and desperation, I pointed at him and sent a stream of paint that way. But this wasn''t red paint, or even blue or yellow. This seems to be every color at once in a single stream. It was a spray of rainbow paint that smacked into the man and knocked him backwards.


    Then I was there. I was the paint that had just hit him, the paint I had just sprayed that way. The rainbow blob of paint that had just hit the man transformed into me. In the background, I could see my old self, the body I had been, collapse into a puddle on the ground. It was like I had literally sent myself that way through the paint itself, like I had possessed my own paint and reformed myself out of it. I could change my body into paint and reform it anywhere I could shoot. Including hitting other people with it.


    Knocking the rat guy down as my body finished reforming and colliding with him, I rolled off the guy and hit every bomb I could see along that wall with more red paint to yank them off.


    Just like that, three sides of the building were done. The bombs weren''t disabled, but they would do much less damage if they weren''t attached to the building itself.


    Unfortunately, that still left one wall full of those bombs. Which might not be enough to take it down, but would still do a lot of damage, and people could still die.


    I had to run, had to get there, had to--why were my legs so long? Only then did I look down and see that I had changed again. My body had shifted and grown. I was wearing a long gray raincoat. Why was-- Wait, that guy, the one I had hit with that rainbow spray of paint, the one that became myself. I hadn''t turned into myself at all. I had turned into him, a physical copy of him. I could transform into physical copies of the people I hit with that rainbow paint and create paint constructs that mimicked the physical properties of what they touched?


    Even as I had that realization, my body shimmered like ripples going through a pool, and I became myself once more.


    With the next step, I turned the corner to face that last wall, desperate to get those bombs off of it. But instead of seeing what I expected, I found myself facing Blackjack, along with several of his people. They were all taking the last of those bombs off, while their leader stared at me. For a moment, the two of us just stayed like that, before the man spoke in a low, curious tone.


    ¡°Well, heh. Isn¡¯t that interesting?¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-13

    As much as I was certain that Blackjack would have liked to bombard me with questions, he and his people didn''t stick around long enough for it. Mostly because all the Star-Touched started showing up almost immediately. Caishen and the rest of Ten Towers were suddenly there, followed shortly by the Minority and at least a dozen police cars. And from what I heard, the Conservators were mopping things up in their area and would be there shortly.


    The bombs were apparently still a problem, but they were being stopped from going off by some sort of device that Blackjack had brought with him. It was generating a field around the entire area preventing those things from detonating. A device they left behind so the authorities could finish safely disabling the bombs themselves. Something told me it wasn¡¯t the only one of those things Blackjack had access to.


    Technically, by the letter of the law or whatever, the Stars and Shields (cops) here immediately should have stopped La Casa¡¯s people from leaving. Or at least tried to. But it was clear that they were treating it as something similar to a Collision Point or other sufficient emergency. Blackjack¡¯s people had been helping prevent a massive tragedy, so they were given a pass. But that wasn''t something that they were going to press their luck on. Giving me a curious look, the man ordered his troops to head out again under the close scrutiny of Caishen. Both sides simply let each other go.


    Of course, the people who had been trying to put up those bombs in the first place had vanished as soon as La Casa arrived. The moment I wasn''t alone, they retreated, disappearing back into the city. Because God forbid they stick around for something resembling a fair fight. We still didn''t even know who they were with or why they had been so intent on destroying this cure.


    By that point, my own team had shown up. They immediately swarmed me with apologies coming from every angle, along with questions. They wanted to know what had happened, how I had managed to get through all of that, if I was hurt, and so on and so on. And all that was with them having no idea about that second Orb or what had come out of it. All they knew was that I had been on my own against three strange Touched and an army of Prevs.


    And speaking of having a lot of questions, Ryder was basically blowing up my phone with them. He''d seen just enough through the security cameras to know about the Orb and that something had changed about my powers.


    Before I could either answer him, or finish assuring my team that I was actually okay, I was pulled aside by Caishen and Kriegspiel, who was filling in as leader of the Conservators for the moment. They both had a ton of questions themselves, largely orienting around how I knew where this place even was, let alone what was happening in it.


    In the end, I told them the truth, sort of. I explained that I had been contacted by one of the tech people for La Casa, who knew me largely thanks to the whole situation with getting those vials for Blackjack¡¯s daughter. He hadn''t wanted to see the cure get destroyed, so he told me what was going on while I was out and about.


    Obviously, the idea that a Fell-Touched had been keeping an eye on the place where the cure was being worked on didn''t exactly make them feel much better. But I pointed out that the fact that he had been was the only reason the building hadn''t been destroyed. That seemed to calm them down, though they made it clear that wherever they set up the new lab, they were going to make damn sure there was even more security. Silently, I wished them luck with that.


    I probably should have told them about getting new powers and all that, but I wanted to figure all that stuff out myself first. Or at least with my friends. I would explain that part to them later, when I made my official report for the court. For the moment, I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. I felt simultaneously exhausted and incredibly exhilarated. It was a strange combination. I felt like I could sleep for a week, but I also wanted to go for a run for an hour or so.


    Once I promised that I would come back and give a full report later, they let me go back to the others. I took just a second to meet with the Minority, so I could tell Amber and Izzy specifically that I was fine. I also made it clear that I had more to talk about, but didn''t want to do it right then.


    Finally, while the other Stars and all those cops were carefully escorting the scientists and all their equipment out to some unmarked vans to be moved to an undisclosed location, I rejoined my team. Again, they kept blurting questions, but I shook my head and insisted we get out of there first. I also sent Ryder a text promising I would meet up with him later and tell him everything that happened.


    We were mostly silent on the way back to the shop. Mostly because everything we might have talked about I was waiting to get into until we were all together. But I did ask them about what happened on their side, and they told me a bit about being ambushed by yet another small army of what appeared to be heavily trained and well-armed Prev troops, along with another new Touched they''ve never seen before. Apparently this one seemed to have some sort of ability to create and control wind-based animal forms. Like the elephant tornado that had slammed into the van and knocked them off the road. Which explained the large dent that I had seen before getting in. It sounded as though it had been a pretty intense fight, up until the wind animal guy had left. Which was probably right around the time that the rest of his people at the lab had retreated. And all of that still gave us no idea who these people were. They didn''t exactly announce their name or their allegiance. That was all one big mystery.


    It was also clear that Paige knew something big had happened with me. She was the one driving, and kept looking over her shoulder to stare at me the entire way back. She could tell something had changed, but something told me she couldn''t begin to guess just what it was.


    Finally, we made it back to the shop, after taking a circuitous route to make sure nobody was following us. After parking in the alley, we filed inside and met up with the others. Soon, the entire group was around me, staring intently as they waited for me to explain everything.


    Instead of starting immediately, I stood there for a moment collecting my thoughts. We were in the main part of the shop, with everyone else either standing around, sitting on chairs, or perched on the counters. And all of them were staring at me.


    After taking a deep breath or six, I started from the beginning. Or rather, from when I had shown up at the building. I told them about the snipers and how I had started out by trying to take them down one at a time without giving them a shot at me.


    ¡°That didn''t last, did it?¡± As she asked that, Paige looked like she wanted to reach out and grab my hand, but restrained herself. She was squirming there on the edge of the counter, as it clearly took everything she had to stay put and keep listening rather than start to pace around.


    My head shook, and I got into what happened once I was told about the bombs. The moment I mentioned going right out there, everyone started to object, but I told them I hadn''t had a choice. There was no way I was going to sit still or go slowly when those people were trying to blow up the building with the cure and all those doctors in it. I didn''t care how dangerous it was, it wouldn''t happen. And I wasn¡¯t going to apologize for doing everything I could to stop it, danger be damned.


    Of course, every objection they had disappeared the second I told them what I had seen when I made it down into that parking lot and realized I wouldn''t be able to get to all the bombs in time. As soon as I mentioned what had been right beside me, a very loud silence fell over the shop. No one said anything for several long seconds, before Fred finally found his voice, though it cracked just a little in the process. ¡°Are you actually saying what I think you''re saying? Did you ReTouch? That''s the term for it, right?¡±


    It was Sierra who answered. ¡°ReTouch is when your powers change completely. Add Touch is when you add new powers on top of the ones you already have. And Second Touch is when the powers that you have are changed into some new but similar version.¡±


    Peyton squinted at me while her marbles orbited around her. ¡°So what happened to yours? Do we get to still call you Paintball, or do you need to go back to the drawing board for a completely new name? Oh, can we call you Drawing Board?¡± She was obviously trying to make it sound light, but there was a lot behind that question. Everyone was leaning forward, watching me intently. It was obvious that no one knew whether to be excited or worried. Which, to be honest, I couldn''t blame them for. This was a lot. I had been through it, and still wasn''t sure what it all meant or how I was supposed to react. Obviously, there was a part of me that was giddy. Seriously, this was a new set of powers of some kind, and I hadn''t actually lost access to my old ones. I still had all my paint, at least as far as I had been able to tell so far. Everything seemed to be intact, anyway. But on the other hand, this was just¡­ a lot to deal with.


    Taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out, I explained, bit by bit, exactly what had happened after I came out of that gray void. I told them about my body seeming to be made of liquid paint, about the rats biting right through my costume and body like that, and even how that guy had hit me with the concussive blast that blew me apart into hundreds of droplets before I came back together. That bit seemed to cause the most concern for some strange reason, Paige jolting to her feet before coming over to stare intently into my eyes. I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what she was expecting to see, and squirmed a bit under her focused attention. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m still me,¡± I managed.


    For her part, Paige only seemed to realize how close she was and how intently she was staring after I said that. Her face turned pink as she stepped back to give me a little more room.


    The Cuddle Corps all nodded together like that whole thing made perfect sense. ¡°You fluffinated!¡± That was Ash, the little plush dragon called cheerfully. ¡°We totally joined the right team, the leader can fluffinate like us!¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Maybe not exactly like us,¡± Aspen noted with a thoughtful expression on that cute bunny face. ¡°But close enough. You could be an honorary Cuddle!¡± That was accompanied by an assortment of cheerful agreements from the rest of them.


    I could tell they all knew this whole thing, especially the experience of being blown apart and coming back together, was kind of freaking me out, and were doing their best to help with that. It worked, making me smile a bit at them. ¡°Thanks, guys,¡± I managed. ¡°I¡¯ll do everything I can to maintain the honor of the Cuddles.¡±


    ¡°Um, so you''re made of paint now?¡± Paige had found her voice by then, asking that weakly while hesitantly raising a hand as though to poke my shoulder, clearly afraid of what would happen if her hand went right through me like I was liquid. ¡°That''s going to be a little hard to cover up.¡± There was definite anxiety to her voice. Clearly she was picturing my parents trying to hug me and seeing their own hands pass through my body. Which might just make keeping my identity secret somewhat complicated.


    Fortunately, I knew better after the tiny bit of experimentation I¡¯d done back there and on the way back. ¡°I can shift back and forth,¡± I explained slowly. ¡°When I make myself solid, I can use my old powers, the paint projection. When I use the new powers, I can''t use the old ones. I mean, when I''m made of paint, I can''t shoot it out. It¡¯s like¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like your body becomes your paint supply?¡± Roald blurted.


    My head bobbed at that. ¡°Hey, yeah, it''s like that. I can shift between having my paint as ammo, or turning it into my body. I mean, turning my body into that. Whichever, the point is, when I make my body into paint, it turns my clothes that way too. Don''t ask me how that works.¡± To demonstrate, I made the conscious shift before stepping over to a random shovel that was leaning against a nearby counter. As everyone stared, I stepped into and past the shovel, letting it pass through me. Just like back at the parking lot when those rats had been biting me, or with that concrete fist, the solid object went through my costume and body alike as though they were liquid. I wasn¡¯t exactly intangible or anything like that. I couldn¡¯t pass through solid objects if there was nowhere for my liquid body to¡­ move through. But as long as there was space for liquid to make it past, it worked.


    After that, I focused on the paint that passing through the shovel had left on the thing. It was a random mix of all my colors in a rough approximation of the colors I was wearing or my own skin and hair. With a gesture from one hand, I pulled the paint off of it, leaving it in the shape of the shovel. Then I showed them how it would follow my instructions, swinging around and spinning in circles while retaining the texture and other characteristics of the shovel. When the others touched it, the handle felt like wood and the head felt like metal. It was about as durable as those things.


    And speaking of touching, everyone had to come up and see what it was like to feel my liquid form too. They reached out to poke me, taking turns running their hands in and out of me with obvious fascination. Everyone kept asking if it hurt or anything and I just shook my head. It didn''t feel like anything at all really. At most, there was a little tickle. Soon, Qwerty and the Cuddles were getting running starts before leaping to jump through my body, laughing the whole time as they passed back and forth, getting themselves covered in paint.


    Of course we checked, but I couldn¡¯t make physical copies of them. Not even of the Cuddles despite them being in stuffed animals. I wasn¡¯t sure what the deal was with that. Maybe it just read them as being alive and made the copying not work.


    After a minute of that, it was Sierra who spoke up. My Biolem twin had been watching me curiously that whole time, and her voice held no doubt in it as she asked, ¡°There''s something else to it, isn''t there? That doesn''t just make your body liquid and let you create copy-constructs.¡±


    Coughing as Qwerty glided through my chest, I gave a little nod. ¡°Uh, yeah, there¡¯s also the shapeshifting and teleporting.¡±


    Obviously, that made everyone start blurting dozens of questions all at once. They were talking over each other so quickly that it was impossible to pick out individual words. Though I was pretty sure I could figure out the gist of it. Finally, Fred gave a loud whistle that cut through all of that, his voice mild once everyone stopped. ¡°Maybe they¡¯d tell you more details if you let ¡®em talk.¡±


    So, I told them about that part, getting into how I had hit the rat-guy with a spray of paint, then transitioned myself into that same spray that had already hit him, before transforming into a copy of that same guy momentarily after crashing into him.


    ¡°Hold up, hold up,¡± Murphy quickly interrupted, head shaking. ¡°You can shoot paint, then make that paint turn into yourself? Like, you can travel like that?¡±


    After a brief pause to consider, I shrugged before pointing across the room. A thought sent a quick shot of that same rainbow-colored paint against the far wall. Then I was suddenly there, the paint shifting into my body while the old me turned to liquid and collapsed into a puddle. Which was enough to make everyone in the room give mixed choked, gasping sounds.


    Straightening up after sending myself that way, I turned to face them with my hands out. ¡°See? I think I can only shapeshift into something¡­ or someone¡­ that I¡¯ve hit with my paint. Or, you know, that¡¯s hit me while I¡¯m made of paint.¡±


    We tested that then, with Peyton volunteering. She braced herself, clearly nervous about how it was going to feel. Yet, when I shot that rainbow paint at her and reformed around her, she claimed it just felt like getting sprayed with water. Sticky, somewhat thick water, but still.


    I, meanwhile, focused on picturing the girl herself while sending myself through the paint to reform next to her. And sure enough, I looked like an identical copy to her.


    ¡°This is so weird,¡± Peyton announced while staring at me. It must¡¯ve been like looking into a mirror for her. A mirror that didn¡¯t copy your motions.


    Everyone moved up closer to examine us, looking back and forth before reaching out to run their hands through me curiously.


    Paige, as usual, was the first to think up an important test. ¡°Can you make yourself solid again while keeping that form?¡±


    I tried, and¡­ well, the answer was complicated. It turned out I could shift into a solid form while maintaining that shape, but only for a limited time. While I was in the liquid-state I could hold and adjust that shapeshifted form as much as I wanted. But once I made myself solid, it took concerted effort to maintain it. I could only do so for about a minute or so before my body reverted to its normal state.


    Unsurprisingly, I couldn¡¯t use any of Peyton¡¯s powers that way, or control her marbles. And I didn¡¯t sound like her or anything. But I could look like her. And I could sort of¡­ pause that sixty second timer before I would revert to my old form. It only counted down as long as I was solid. If I shifted back to liquid, the timer stopped where it was.


    After a bit more questioning and testing, we worked out another point of my new paint form. Namely, I was able to shift it into any of my usual colors. A thought would change my body from just looking like myself, to being fully green, fully pink, fully black, and so forth. Doing so gave me the benefit of that color.


    Green made me move about three times as fast as I normally could.


    Yellow made me slow, which was helpful for falling safely. But more importantly, it seemed to make things that were close enough to me slow down as well, to about half their normal speed. That included people trying to hit me.


    Red allowed me to physically throw bits of myself (like chucking a baseball or something rather than projecting it in a blast the way I normally did) before pulling myself to the thing I hit, or vice versa. I would wind up, throw a ball of paint, then I could pull that object to myself, or myself to the object.


    Black made it so I didn¡¯t give off any sound, and things in a short radius around me were silent as well.


    White allowed me to glow, which I could adjust to be very dim or bright enough that it was hard to look directly at me.


    Blue allowed me to bounce off things, sending myself high into the air.


    Orange made my body very solid and hard to penetrate, rather than liquid.


    Purple made me stronger. Which might not have seemed important when my body was liquid, but again, I wasn¡¯t intangible. I could still focus and hit people in that form. When I was normal, it was like getting hit by a normal garden hose. But when I was purple, it was apparently more like a firehose. I could hit much harder that way.


    And finally, in the case of pink, it made my body collapse into a puddle. A pink puddle that could move around under my direction. I could see in every direction at once, though my depth of vision wasn¡¯t that great. I could only see about ten feet out. But my puddle form could move, and it was liquid so running into obstacles wasn¡¯t a problem. I was able to go under the cracks of a closed door and even through a long tube that Sierra and Paige set out for me to test.


    There was clearly more to figure out, but that was the gist of it. I could shift back and forth between my body being paint or solid. When I was paint, I couldn¡¯t shoot any paint, because it was making up my body. In my paint form, physical objects passed through me, my body would reform after being blown apart, and I could shapeshift to match anyone I had recently touched. And any object that I got my paint on could be copied to form a construct I could direct around. Speaking of which, we found out I could only make and control one Copy-Construct at a time. No creating an entire fleet of flying Paint-Constructs to attack people with. Still, I was able to make a copy of any object Peyton turned her marbles into, which would be useful.


    Finally, I could shift my paint-body to match any of my old colors, getting the benefit of them. I couldn¡¯t mix and match in that form. There was no ¡®turn my legs green for speed and my upper body purple for strength.¡¯ It was either my base body with no extra abilities, or all of one single color. If I wanted to combine abilities, or mix paint for any of those special things like the damage reflection or flashbomb, I had to be in my physical body and use the paint the old way.


    Once we figured all that out, the others continued to stare at me. Wren found her voice first. ¡°Well¡­ what are you gonna do now?¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± I echoed, considering the question for a moment before nodding decisively. ¡°Now I¡¯m kinda hungry after all that testing.


    ¡°So how about we order some pizza, and talk about anything else besides me for awhile?¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-14

    After everything that had happened, and all the weirdness around getting brand new powers, I had to go off by myself for a little bit after I showed the others what I could do. I went for a run across the rooftops to stretch my legs and clear my head. At first, I was just using my old powers, the ones I knew so well. It was comforting at this point, using red paint to pull myself from building to building, blue to launch myself, green for speed, and so on. I didn''t have to think about what I was doing, not really. I just let my mind drift and took off. Between my powers and my skates, I could cover a lot of territory in a relatively short time. My body knew how to move, how to follow my environment sense to find the best places to hit with my paint, the best places to land, or to jump off of. I didn''t have to consciously consider any of that. It just happened automatically, which was very useful when it came to turning my brain off and just experiencing the run without thinking.


    About halfway through, I decided to try using my new powers, mixing them in to see how it went. As I neared the edge of the latest roof, I took a breath before pointing at a billboard in the distance. A thought shifted my body into its liquid form, and I sent a shot of that rainbow paint at the top edge of it. Just as the paint struck that spot, I sent myself through it. Just as before, my new body reformed right on the spot where the paint hit. I was suddenly standing there, while my old body fell apart into a puddle of paint on the edge of that roof. I turned to look over my shoulder just in time to see that happen, staring that way for a long moment as I absorbed the sight.


    Then it was on. I made myself solid and used green-blue paint to launch myself forward and up. In the middle of that leap, I made my body liquid once more and shifted it red. I looked like a cherry-flavored version of myself, like a red gummy bear or something. Or at least a red doofus in a coveralls and helmet. But either way, my body did seem to have that same sort of texture as a gummy person. A thing that was probably added to as I reared back with one hand and snapped it forward, launching a blob of red paint, like a pile of Jell-O, through the air to smack onto the top of a roof ahead of and far below me. In the midst of falling, I focused on that spot and felt my red body get pulled that way. But rather than do anything to stop myself, I let go and allowed my body to plummet as quickly as possible. Once I was right over the roof and going down, I shifted my body to green so it would go even faster. Not orange to protect myself, or even yellow to slow down. No, the solution here, as in most cases, was definitely to go faster. I made myself plummet as quickly as possible straight down at that roof. At the last second, I had the brief thought that maybe I should have practiced this a bit more safely first. Then it was a bit too late to wonder about, as I collided with that hard surface while going as quickly as I could straight into it.


    Just like when that guy had hit me with the blast of conclusive force, my body blew apart into hundreds of droplets that sprayed in every direction. And just like then, I was seeing through every droplet in every direction. Granted, I couldn''t see very far like that. My vision was very limited, only allowing me to look out about ten or fifteen feet. So all I could see was the roof and a bit above me. But either way, splashing down like that didn''t hurt at all. It blew me apart into tiny droplets, but there was no pain involved at all. If anything, it just kind of tickled a little bit.


    As before, my droplets snapped back together after a second or two, reforming my body in a kneeling position right there on the roof. I looked around, lifted my hands to stare at them, then laughed out loud. It sounded maybe a little crazed, but who could blame me right then? This was completely wild. It was absurd. I just turned into liquid and exploded all over this roof before immediately reforming. It was ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous. And I had to keep exploring it.


    With that in mind, I jumped to my feet, shifting my liquid body to blue in mid-jump so that as I came down, I bounced upward. It seemed to magnify the amount of force I put into it. As hard as I hit something as my blue, I rebounded off of it even harder. Now I really was like a gummy bear. The old cartoon version. Was it weird that my body was still liquid, but I could bounce off of things like that? Or that I could stand on things like I was solid while at the same time other solid objects moved right through me? Well, to be fair, there was nothing about any of this that wasn''t weird. So why single that part out? This entire situation was absolutely ridiculous, and I actually loved it.


    Bouncing off the roof like that, I aimed for a traffic light below. As my blue body impacted it, the impact sent me rocketing forward and up. With a thought, I changed my body to be red, throwing another blob toward the nearby building to pull myself that way, then shifted green to pick up speed. At the last second, I turned blue once more and positioned myself so I would impact at the right angle to rocket forward again.


    Oh, oh yes. This was something I could definitely get used to. I went sailing through the air, changing back to my solid form to corkscrew between a pair of signs that were fairly close together. My hand extended to shoot green-red paint at the side of a freeway overpass as I gave a loud whoop of ecstatic excitement. On the way there, I inverted and activated a bit of orange paint on myself, along with green paint on my legs. Just before hitting the side of that overpass, I sent a shot of red a bit further along it in order to make my momentum pull me that way. Then my skates popped out as I landed it against the side of the concrete. Just like that, I was rolling along it. I could hear cars passing by above, and a couple people honked while craning their heads out of their windows to look down at me. I waved at them and kept skating sideways along that thing. My gravity boots allowed me to stick to it without any trouble. Which briefly made me wonder how my paint could shift Touched-Tech like that completely into liquid and then back again without any trouble. But then I decided the only thing that really mattered in that moment was that it did. It worked. Later, I could work out some of the details. I was sure that Paige and Wren would want to get into all the nitty-gritty about this stuff. For the moment, I was comfortable with simply taking it moment by moment to see what happened. If asked, I would say I was experimenting. But really, I was just goofing around.


    That goofing continued as I practiced more with shifting between my solid and liquid forms and the various effects that being different colors in my liquid form could accomplish. I''d barely scratched the surface as far as that went, and it already felt like an entire world of new options had opened up. Combining my new powers with my old ones, especially the way I was able to collide with solid surfaces as hard as I wanted to, and even teleport myself wherever I shot that rainbow paint, and suddenly I was even more mobile than I had been before. It was so amazing.


    I also figured something else out through my goofing off, which totally justified calling it experimenting. When I blew apart into those droplets, it would normally pull me back into the center part of them to put me together. But with some focus, I was able to pick one of those droplets to make the actual center of my body. Every other droplet would be pulled that way to reform around it. Even better, when I did that, I would retain the momentum of that droplet. So when I exploded into every direction, I could pick a droplet that was moving the way I wanted to, and reform around that in order to keep going that way without losing speed. I could splatter against something and use that to completely change my direction and orientation without stopping.


    Obviously, that opened up whole new ideas for getting around. It made me feel so free, so alive. I had spent so much of my life throwing myself into skating, skiing, running, absolutely everything I could possibly do to feel free and alive. And this? This was the best I had ever felt as far as that went. I had been very free before, very good at traveling through the city even with my original powers. Hell, that had been the whole reason I¡¯d been so nervous about possibly losing them. I had thought that there couldn¡¯t be anything better than that, at least as far as my own preferences went. But adding in these new powers and shifting between them? It was a whole new world of possibilities. I could go anywhere like this.


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    And speaking of going anywhere I wanted, once I was finally tired of running, I collapsed onto the top of a roof near the mall. Lying there staring at the clouds in the sky, I shifted myself to be pink. I was in liquid form, and as the pink color took over, I allowed myself to gradually melt. I literally turned into a puddle right there. In this form, I could slip through cracks and find my way into tight spaces.


    But I wasn¡¯t going anywhere right then. I was simply spreading myself out and relaxing. I didn''t even look like a person anymore. I was just a pink puddle of melted Jell-O quivering there on the roof. I couldn''t see the sky anymore, only able to look out a few feet from myself. But it didn''t matter. Nothing mattered right then. I let everything go, all my worries, all my cares, everything. I simply melted into a puddle and lay there. It was sort of like lying in a hot bath after a massage. All the tension completely left me. My body was a living puddle, stretched out on the roof. I just laid there and did absolutely nothing. I thought about nothing, I worried about nothing, I let it all go and simply relaxed in a way that I probably hadn¡¯t ever done before. All those thoughts and concerns could wait until later. For now, for that moment, I wasn¡¯t thinking about anything. My mind drifted. It was sort of like being asleep, but not really. I was still conscious, just in a semi-dream state. Maybe it was like meditation? I wasn¡¯t sure, since I¡¯d never really done that. All I knew was that it really helped.


    Eventually, I did start thinking. But not about my parents or any of that stuff. I wasn¡¯t even thinking about Bobby and what he was doing, which was something that had really been on the back of my mind basically ever since he shot Pittman. No, right then, I was thinking about who I was, who I wanted to be. Maybe it was because this new ability to shapeshift into people I painted brought that to the front of my mind. Either way, I was thinking about gender, about how I¡¯d starting to understand my own feelings on the subject. For the longest time I had felt so awkward and wrong whenever people brought up the possibility of me looking like a boy. Now, of course, I knew that a large part of that was the lingering effects of that memory wipe. Every time anything came up that made me possibly think about what had been erased, it had been painful. So I couldn¡¯t even properly consider whether I had¡­ those feelings. My brain associated thinking about that with pain, so it had pushed those thoughts away as much as possible. But now things were different. Now I knew that--well--sometimes I felt more like a girl and other times I felt more like a boy. I didn¡¯t know exactly what I was going to do with those feelings, but I definitely wasn¡¯t going to ignore them anymore. I wasn¡¯t going to push them away. I was Cassidy Evans, and sometimes I was feminine, other times I was masculine. If people didn¡¯t like that, they could suck eggs. Or whatever. All I really cared about was that they left me alone and let me be myself.


    With those thoughts drifting through my mind, I reformed, pulling myself back into a full humanoid pink body before shifting into my normal self as I stood up and stretched. With a yawn, I cracked my neck from one side to the other. God, that felt good. I definitely recommended transforming into a puddle and stretching out to lie across a warm roof if you''re able to do so. Ten out of ten for relaxation. I felt totally rejuvenated right then, even after only lying like that for maybe twenty minutes or so. Seriously, it was absolutely amazing. Maybe part of it was exhausting myself with that whole super-powered run through the city first, but either way, I felt like myself again, like I was ready to take on the world and deal with whatever might be coming up next in--hang on.


    Blinking uncertainly while standing there, I bounced up and down a couple times. My head turned one way, then the other, my body leaning with it. Something was different. Something was strange. My body came together right, didn¡¯t it? I was definitely all in one piece, solid and everything. So what was--huh? I bounced again, leaning all the way over on one foot, then I did the same on the other foot. Slowly, I lowered my head to look down. My mouth opened, then shut as I squinted that way. What¡­ uhh, what exactly was¡­?


    A soft noise of uncertainty escaped me, as I looked up and around to make sure no one was around. I was alone. Biting my lip under the helmet and mask, I hesitantly reached down with one gloved hand, very slowly moving toward my own--well--uh¡­ toward the part of me I used in the restroom. My gloved hand found that spot, and also found something that definitely hadn¡¯t been there before.


    Yes, I may have screamed. Yes, I jumped, tripped over my own feet, and fell hard backward on the roof. And this time I wasn¡¯t using any paint, so it kind of hurt. I fell onto my backside with that squeal and stared down at my own body. My hand moved up to my chest, then felt myself all over. What--what--what? What?!


    I was a boy. I¡¯d posed as a boy for so long, sure, and sometimes I felt more masculine. But this wasn¡¯t like that. This was a literal physical change. I was a boy. I was a boy, in every sense of the word. My body had actually changed. When I put myself back together, I had a--I grew a--I lost my--boy, I was a boy! Was it--it wasn¡¯t permanent, it couldn¡¯t be permanent. Of course it wasn¡¯t--I could--wait I could still be a girl, right? I was still¡­ that was, I could still just¡­


    Even as those panicked thoughts filled my mind, I felt--uh, that disappear. It was a very strange sensation. One second it was there, then it was gone. My body shifted. I wasn¡¯t a boy anymore. A quick doublecheck confirmed it. Yup, definitely a girl again.


    Okay, now that I wasn¡¯t completely panicking so much, I hesitated. What had that been about? Why--sure I¡¯d felt more masculine at the time that I was putting myself back together, but how would¡­ I hadn¡¯t shapeshifted into anyone at the time, had I? No, it was just me. My own body.


    To check that, I quickly changed clothes into my civilian outfit, went down into the alley, and jogged across the street to reach the mall. My mind was racing the whole time as I hurried through the crowds and found my way to the restroom. I chose one of the small, single-occupancy restrooms on the far side of the mall, out of the way.


    Locking myself in there, I stared into the mirror while focusing. Male. Male. Boy. Think about being a boy. Think about everything that was involved with being a--aaaaaand it happened. My body shifted. And no, I didn¡¯t change to look like anyone else. I wasn¡¯t shapeshifting into another person. I was just me, but as a boy.


    Nor was there a time limit. I checked, keeping myself solid while watching the seconds tick by on my phone. After several minutes, I still hadn¡¯t changed back. I was absolutely, completely a boy right then. A male version of Cassidy Evans. And with another thought, I could shift back into my female self. Boy, girl, boy, girl. Wait, hang on.


    Yup. I could be both at the same time too. I could¡­ well, mix and match parts however I wanted. Which was a whole new basket of wild.


    I¡¯d thought my powers were already going to take a lot to get used to, and now it turned out I could actually shift my sex to match however I was feeling at the time? I could change into a boy when I was Paintball and--wait, that meant my costume didn¡¯t have to be so¡­ loose. I couldn¡¯t be found out as a biological girl as long as I stayed in my male form whenever needed. This was¡­ this was¡­


    Holy shit. I really was the gender fluid.

 Learning Lessons 31-15

    ¡°See, pretty damn freaky, huh?¡±


    It was later that evening, after dinner but before the sun went down. I was with Izzy and the two of us were standing out in the woods far beyond my family¡¯s property. Far from anyone¡¯s property, really. We were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by thick foliage after doing a thorough search of the area to make sure we were alone out here where we could talk. And, of course, where I could show my little sister the new additions to my assortment of paint powers. I¡¯d already gone through most of it, and now we were to the whole becoming a boy thing. Which I had just done, shifting into my male self right in front of her while she watched intently.


    Izzy, for her part, tilted her head one way, then the other, examining me with a critical eye. ¡°Uh, okay, so I can tell because you¡¯re wearing normal clothes. I can see the umm¡­ change? But if you were in your normal costume, I don¡¯t think anyone could tell the difference.¡± Quickly, she added, ¡°Which is a good thing! It means you can go out as, um, actual boy Paintball and people won¡¯t suddenly think there¡¯s someone else in the suit. You¡¯ll just look like you. Because you¡¯re you and that¡¯s who you¡¯re supposed to be, so they¡¯ll know that the you that is the male you is you the you they knew. Uh, yeah. The end.¡± Her face was pink.


    Snickering despite myself, I gave a sage nod. ¡°I¡¯ll be the male me that is the me they knew me to be. I think some monks are chanting that somewhere right now.¡± With that little bit of teasing out of the way, I turned in a circle. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna say it, I have no idea how boys walk around. It feels weird. I feel off-balance. I feel--uh, exposed.¡±


    ¡°You need practice,¡± Izzy advised carefully. ¡°And have you thought about telling your--I mean, Simon?¡± Before I could finish doing a double-take, she amended, ¡°I mean, just about being able to shift your sex. You could tell him you Touched and that was the only power you got.¡± Even as she said that, the girl was frowning. ¡°That¡¯s probably a bad idea, huh?¡±


    ¡°Worth thinking about,¡± I allowed with a slight grimace. ¡°But uh, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be doing that. I don¡¯t want them to have any idea I have any powers at all. It¡¯ll just make them start thinking that way. Especially since the word that Paintball Touched again is probably gonna get out.¡±


    She was nodding. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I was just thinking maybe you could be more¡­ um, comfortable as any version of you that you want to be if your family knew you could shift.¡±


    After a brief hesitation to ask myself what I¡¯d done to get such a cool sister, I embraced her. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, I promise. Just being able to feel what it¡¯s like and shift over to¡­ to the other¡­ version of myself sometimes is gonna help.¡±


    The two of us stayed like that for a moment before Izzy stepped away. ¡°Okay okay, now you¡¯ve gotta show me the other part.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure you really want me to do this? It¡¯s not gonna freak you out too much or anything?¡± Even as I asked that, I was looking Izzy up and down with a slight wince. ¡°It¡¯s probably weird.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Touched stuff, of course it¡¯s weird,¡± the girl pointed out with a shrug. ¡°Double-so with you, cuz your paint is super-weird. Also you just showed me how you can change into a boy whenever you want. This is nothing.¡± She paused briefly then before adding with just the slightest touch of nerves, ¡°You said you tried it with the others, right? And it um, it didn¡¯t hurt them or anything.¡±


    ¡°Okay, there are definitely much weirder powers than my paint,¡± I insisted. ¡°And yeah, I tried it with a few of the others. They said they didn¡¯t really feel anything other than the sticky liquid sensation of the paint hitting them. And it¡¯s not like we were connected after that while I looked like them. You won¡¯t feel what I feel or whatever. We¡¯ll stay completely separate, I promise.¡±


    Offering me a faint smile, Izzy bounced on her feet with obvious eagerness. ¡°Okay! Try it.¡±


    So, I focused on that rainbow paint and pointed that way. It splattered across her, and a second later, I was reforming next to the girl while my old body melted behind me. Izzy was looking that way, grimacing with a little sick noise. ¡°Uh huh, see what I mean? Totally high on the¡­ weird¡­¡± She had turned through part of that, ending the sentence while staring at an identical copy of herself. ¡°Oh wow, freaky. You really look like me. But you¡¯re not, um¡­¡± Trailing off, she reached out to poke a finger into my forehead, gaping as her finger went through like it was thick water.


    Giggling despite myself, I moved my head back and forth so she could see her finger moving through me like that. From what I¡¯d seen when people did that to my arm or anywhere else I could actually look at, it sent ripples through the surrounding area, like a finger moving through any other liquid. Which was even more strange to see when it was happening to someone in a humanoid shape. So yeah, maybe Izzy had a point about my powers being pretty weird.


    After a moment of that, I took a step back and did a quick spin. ¡°See? Complete copy of you. We¡¯re basically twins right now. Too bad I can only make myself solid like this for like a minute.¡±


    ¡°Does that minute have to be all at once,¡± Izzy asked curiously, ¡°or can you spread it out? I mean, if you make yourself solid just long enough to open a door or shake someone¡¯s hand or something, can you go right back to being intangible and stay in the shapeshifted form? Or does the countdown to changing back happen as soon as you make yourself solid the first time?¡±


    That, of course, was one of the first things Paige had insisted we thoroughly test. Still, the fact that Izzy thought of it too made me smile. ¡°Apparently it¡¯s either sixty seconds as a solid person, or six shifts back and forth, whichever comes first. The countdown only goes on as long as I¡¯m solid in the other form, but as soon as I shift back from liquid to solid the seventh time, the disguise melts and I turn back into my real self. Even if there¡¯s still thirty seconds left on the timer.¡±


    Izzy was nodding as she walked around me, biting her lip thoughtfully. ¡°Oh! What about--uh, you know, costumed people? I mean, is everyone gonna be terrified that you can expose their identities by hitting them with paint, turning into them, and then taking off the mask?¡±


    Boy, would Paige be proud of this girl or what? That was another thing she¡¯d wanted to test. Though the way she had phrased it was that she wanted to know how many paranoid fucks were going to try to kill me to stop me from exposing their secret identities. Still the same idea.


    ¡°Wren has this hazmat suit thing,¡± I explained. ¡°I didn¡¯t look while one of the others got into it, and since they made the front plastic visor thing completely opaque, I had no idea who was inside. I painted them, turned into them, then took off the hood to find out what I looked like under it. Aaand I just looked like me. Oh and it wasn¡¯t Sierra. The point is, apparently when my power doesn¡¯t know what the person in the costume looks like, it only physically changes as much as I can see. Or maybe just the ¡®clearly visible portion¡¯ of them or something. No learning secret identities that easily for me. Which, to be honest, I¡¯m kind of relieved about. Cuz like you and Paige said, that¡¯d make a whole lot of people pretty paranoid about me. I really don¡¯t need that kind of pressure to be added on to everything else that''s already happening.¡±


    Izzy gave a little nod and while continuing to pace around me to take in my transformed appearance. ¡°You do seem to like racking up lots of problems.¡±


    With a thought, I shifted back to my normal state and shrugged that off. ¡°I mean, I wouldn''t say I like it, exactly. It just seems to keep happening regardless of my opinion on the subject. Believe me, I''d love to have some more quiet, boring days.¡± Absorbing my new sister¡¯s skeptical look, I amended, ¡°Okay, maybe not quiet and boring. I do like exciting things. But physically exciting, like skydiving or base jumping. I could do without all the emotional trauma. And if I could manage to never have to be face to face with anyone like Amanda or Pittman again, that''d be pretty damn fantastic.¡±


    There was a brief pause before Izzy swallowed while meeting my gaze. ¡°You could get away from that, you know. You don''t absolutely have to be Paintball. Just because you have powers doesn''t mean you¡¯re required to use them. It''s not like they''re going to track you down and throw you in prison for not going out there every day and risking your life. As if they even could if they tried.¡±


    Hitting a high branch in a nearby tree with a shot of my rainbow paint just so I could immediately transport myself onto it, I watched my old body dissolve before shaking my head. ¡°You''re right, that does look freaky. And yeah, I don''t have to keep doing this. But if I stopped, I''d feel guilty every single time I saw something bad happen out there. I''d always ask if I could have helped. Besides, the rest of my team, my friends, would be out there. So would you, and Amber. It''s not like all of that is going to go away and you''ll be perfectly fine forever if I''m not there. I can help. I¡¯m good at this stuff.¡±


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    Izzy had soaked herself before floating up to sit on the branch with me. Her arm moved around my waist, testing to make sure I had made myself solid as she smiled. ¡°Yeah, I guess you are. The whole city would fall apart without you. It''s been right on the edge of total collapse until you showed up. You are our savior.¡±


    Blushing a little as she giggled, I nudged her a bit. ¡°Ha ha. You know what I mean. Besides, you could''ve stopped after what you went through with your mom and you didn''t. No one would have blamed you for taking a few months off back then.¡±


    Izzy shifted back and forth on the branch while making a thoughtful noise under her breath. Finally, she replied, ¡°Every time I thought about stopping, or even just taking a long break, I just kept picturing someone else like me getting hurt because I wasn''t there. I was scared after that¡­ that thing with Handler. Part of me just wanted to hide and never go out there when people like him exist. But if I wasn''t there, they''d be able to hurt others, people who can''t fight back. I was scared, but it made me think about how scared and helpless I would''ve been if I didn''t have my powers. Monsters like Handler hurt helpless people all the time.¡±


    She fell silent again, arm squeezing my waist while we sat there on the branch together. I could tell she wanted to say something else, but was searching for the right words. I didn''t rush her. Eventually, it came. ¡°Besides, I don''t want to be like my mom. She only thinks about herself. She only cares about herself. No matter what happens, she always makes herself the victim in her mind. She sold me to a gang to be tortured just so she could have a better life for herself. She''s¡­ she¡¯s just selfish. I don''t want to be like that. I can''t be like that.¡±


    Squeezing the girl closer, I shook my head. ¡°Oh Izzy, you could never be anything like her. But¡­ yeah, I get it. I guess we both feel like we need to be out there helping people as much as we can. And¡­ to be honest, I like it. I mean, I like being able to save people. It''s dangerous and terrifying and all that, but I still love being able to be there when someone needs help. Not to mention being able to punch people who deserve it. That''s pretty cool too, if I''m being completely honest.¡±


    With an audible giggle, Izzy agreed, ¡°I do kinda like seeing big bad gang guys get all scared when I make them float off the ground. Especially right after they''ve been hurting innocent people.¡±


    The two of us sat there together like that for another minute before she gave a sudden start as something obviously occurred to her. ¡°Hang on, what about Qwerty or those--um--Cuddles?¡±


    That second part had been a whole conversation on its own before we even got into the rest. She really wanted to go meet those guys, and I had promised to find out if they were okay with that. I had already made certain they were cool with me telling her about them, but actually meeting with them was another step. After hearing about how much everyone back at their home had forced them to do constant meet and greets with fans no matter how they felt about it, I didn''t want to make them feel like it was happening again.


    Blinking that way, I started to question the abrupt subject change, then realized what she meant. ¡°Oh, the shapeshifting?¡± When her head gave an almost violently eager nod, I snickered a little despite myself. ¡°We haven''t tested that yet. By the time we thought about it, Qwerty and some of the others were resting, and Peyton had to go home. She made us promise to wait and test it when she could be there. So we just decided to hold off until the whole group was ready to see it. Plus Paige had an appointment to visit Irelyn in the hospital and she made me promise specifically not to test turning into anything small like that until she could be around to take notes and help if something bad happens. You know, assuming anything even happens at all. Just because I can shift into other humanoid forms doesn''t mean that I can do something that tiny or different.¡±


    Honestly, I couldn''t decide if I was more excited or nervous about the prospect of being able to shift into a form as small as Qwerty. Okay, no, that wasn''t exactly true. I was definitely more excited, but there was still nervousness in there too. It was a lot to even consider, which was probably why I had allowed myself to be talked into promising to wait. These new powers were a really big deal, and I needed to take my time carefully exploring them.


    Even if there was a not-so-small screen in the back of my head to forget what I''d promised Paige and Peyton and just find a bird to paint so I could see if that would let me fly around. Oh god, what would that do to the jokes about Lucent being my dad?


    Izzy shifted on the branch to look at me intently. ¡°Hey Cassie? Um, how do you feel about making another promise?¡±


    The obvious implication made me giggle. ¡°Okay, okay, I promise I''ll try it when you''re around too. But you know what this means, right?¡±


    Izzy¡¯s head moved in a sage nod. ¡°Uh huh.


    ¡°You have to call Amber and invite her, or she''ll kill both of us.¡±


    *******


    So, of course, I did just that. The Cuddles were fine with meeting the two of them, excited even. I had the feeling that, regardless of all their other complicated feelings, they really did miss the members of their team. So meeting a couple members of our Minority was probably pretty exciting.


    Eventually, we all met up again just a little after midnight. We weren''t at the shop, but in the mostly-empty back lot of what had once been a junk shop before going out of business and being almost entirely picked clean of anything valuable. The only things left out here at the moment were a few remains of cars that were nothing more than metal husks, and a whole lot of garbage. But it did mean that we had privacy for this testing.


    I had taken some time earlier to explain all the stuff about my added powers to Amber. She, in turn, had informed me that considering how much trouble I tended to get into, she wasn''t surprised at all that whoever was behind the Orbs had decided I needed a little extra help. Boy did I ever wish I could have argued with that.


    She had teased me a bit, but mostly she was just excited and made me show her everything I could. Which eventually led us out here with the others. My entire team was here in costume, along with Raindrop, That-A-Way, and the Cuddles. Fred was back at the shop keeping an eye on things, just in case. Not that we expected too much trouble right now given we didn''t exactly have Pittman anymore, but still.


    After Izzy and Amber had several minutes to meet and introduce themselves to the Cuddles, it was time. The others had all gathered in a circle in the middle of this dirt lot, surrounding me while Qwerty bounded back and forth, jumping from shoulder to shoulder across everyone as he babbled on about wanting to see if I could turn into him.


    And speaking of turning into things, I¡¯d decided not to talk about my new¡­ shifting ability in front of everyone just yet. I would, soon, but right now it was about the Cuddles and Qwerty and I didn¡¯t want to distract from that.


    Style, standing there in her own costume, gestured back and forth between us. ¡°Well? Let''s see what this new one power of yours has got. If you pull off the little guy, I want to see if you can go as small as a bug. Now that could be useful. Imagine how many secrets you could find out by spying on people like that.¡± Her head shifted sideways to take in the Minority Touched. ¡°I mean, imagine how many people you could save by sneaking past all the guards holding them hostage or whatever.¡±


    Snorting a bit, I decided she was right, at least about not waiting anymore. It was time to see if this would work. So, I asked our little parrot-squirrel friend to hold still for a moment. It was easier said than done for him, considering how excited and amped up he was. But finally, he perched on the ground right in the middle of the circle. ¡°Hit me!¡± Qwerty called out while standing on his hind legs with his wings and front paws extended.


    Obviously, I didn''t want to bowl the poor little guy over, or completely drown him in paint. I focused and sent just a very small rainbow spray at him.


    It worked. Miracle of miracles, wonder of wonders, it worked. The next thing I knew, I was very small, perched in front of a Qwerty who was suddenly my size and surrounded by giant versions of my companions.


    Oh boy was seeing everything from this size and angle a lot to take in. Qwerty looked so different when I was the same size as him. And looking up at all the others in giant mode was a real trip. I had never been that big, so I was accustomed to looking at people. But this was ridiculous. I was basically so small I barely came up to their ankles! I was teeny-tiny!


    Everyone started talking and pointing at once, a mix of excitement and shock that this had actually worked running through the whole group. It was pretty apparent that everyone had assumed I wouldn¡¯t actually be able to get this small or change myself to that extent.


    As for Qwerty himself, he jumped at me with an excited squeal. Only to laugh as he passed right through me. ¡°A friend!¡± He was bouncing up and down, wings flapping wildly. ¡°I can have a friend!¡±


    Making myself solid for a moment, I grabbed the TONI with my new paws and hugged him. I felt the wings on my back extend around him as well. ¡°I¡¯m always your friend, no matter what size I am or what I look like. We all are.¡±


    Qwerty seemed completely taken aback by the physical gesture. He made a noise of surprise before hesitantly returning it. His voice was soft and wondrous. ¡°Oh. Oh this is what a hug is like? Oh, that''s really nice. I think I like hugs.¡±


    Grinning, a whole new experience with a beak, I leaned back to look at him. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad, because you''re going to get a lot of them. As many as you can handle. Now, why don''t you show me how to use this little body?¡±


    In response, he immediately turned and started bounding away, leaping between Amber¡¯s legs before jumping on top of the nearest car husk. ¡°Catch me if you can!¡±


    ¡°Oh it is on!¡± I called after him before giving chase.


    Everyone was blurting questions, but the two of us ignored them for the moment. We would get back to more rigorous scientific testing soon enough. But right now, only one thing mattered.


    If that little squirrel-parrot liked hugs, I was going to show him what it was like to be tackled into one.

 Learning Lessons 31-16

    I was in the closet. My closet, specifically. I had transformed into a pink puddle once more and was stretched out along an empty part of the top shelf there, luxuriating in that feeling. It was like being able to stretch and relax into a hot tub when you were were the hot tub. Or something.


    Yes, it was probably a bit dumb to use my powers like this in my own house. But I was in my room, and in my closet. The odds of anyone bursting into my room without using the intercom were slim to begin with, and I had the door locked. And even if they went through all that, I would still be out of sight, giving me enough time to drop down and shift back before coming out to see whoever it happened to be. If it was a threat, I would have time to¡­ to do something. Even if the details were kind of murky right now.


    The truth was, no matter how I justified it to myself I didn''t need to be doing this. But I was just so bored of studying. I had been getting ready for finals next week for hours before ever going into my closet and putting myself up on the shelf in puddle form. I had started at my desk, moved to the floor, then my bed, then I had been on the floor with my legs on the bed, then out on my balcony, back to my desk, and had even tried reading my textbook while doing a handstand in the corner of my room. Anything to stop my mind from drifting away and daydreaming about other things.


    I was a pretty average student to be honest, before all this started. Not some genius, but I wasn''t about to flunk out either. I did the work I needed to do, got some extra help with the harder stuff now and then, and basically stayed around the middle of the pack. A lot of that was because I didn''t really care that much about academic stuff. I just did what I needed to do to keep my parents happy so I could go out and do the things I actually loved. Over these past months, I had let that slip just a little bit. I was still pretty average, but I was definitely doing even more of the bare minimum. It couldn¡¯t be helped. There were only so many hours in the day, and too many of those were taken up with all this other Touched stuff. Between all that and the stress I was feeling lately thanks to the situation with my parents and the others affected by Sleeptalk, it--yeah. At least no one was really questioning why I wasn¡¯t very focused on school right now.


    But even if I wasn¡¯t focused on it, even if I had plenty of reasons to be distracted (some of which could even be used without spoiling my secrets), I still couldn¡¯t totally blow off school. And I definitely couldn¡¯t blow off finals. They were too important, and when my parents woke up, if they found out I screwed that up, they¡¯d lose it. Disappointing them would be bad enough on its own, but they¡¯d also probably clamp down a lot on where I was going and when I could be out. They¡¯d pay a lot more attention to what I was doing in my freetime. That¡­ yeah, that would be a bad thing. If my parents focused too much on me, I wouldn¡¯t be able to do what I needed to.


    So, no matter how bored I was or how much my mind kept trying to drift, I needed to focus. I had to study and get ready for finals. Which meant, in this case, going to drastic lengths to keep myself on-task. Thus being in puddle form in my closet, reading my textbook as it was propped up on the shelf in front of me. Every once in awhile, I focused on pushing a small tendril of my goo-self out to turn the page.


    See? I was multitasking, testing and practicing my power and studying.


    Most of my attention was finally firmly centered on that, though I was keeping half-an ear out for anyone being at my door, or for my phone to ding. I¡¯d made it clear that the others should only contact me in an emergency. And I wasn¡¯t the only one. Peyton, Murphy, and Roald were all deep in their own studying sessions. Paige was kind of doing the same with the help of Sierra, but the two of them were also out finding their own way to deal with the death of their father/creator. Not grieve him, exactly, but a way of saying goodbye to the idea of him or whatever. I wasn¡¯t sure what they were doing, exactly. It seemed like a private, personal thing. I just knew they were out somewhere in the city.


    The point was, none of Avant-Guard were actively patrolling or doing anything Touched-wise at the moment. It was our day off, and hopefully it would stay that way. Wren, Qwerty, and the Cuddles were at that secondary lab location by the bookstore going over everything the Ministry had handed over. Part of me felt nervous about not being there with them just in case anything went wrong, but that was probably a bit too much paranoia on my part. The Cuddles may have been small and young, but they¡¯d been active members of their Minority team for much longer than I had been doing this stuff. Plus they were basically immortal, with their fluffinating thing. Between all that, the powers they had, Wren¡¯s tech, Qwerty¡¯s speed and agility, and Fred being there with one of Wren¡¯s special guns¡­ they would be okay. They¡¯d be fine. This was just my brain trying to distract me again so it wouldn¡¯t have to focus on the actual schoolwork. Nice try, brain.


    I had just started to read again when my phone buzzed from its place on the floor below me. Eyes widening as a whole flood of paranoid thoughts washed over me, I shoved my goo-self off the shelf, transforming as I fell back into my normal self just in time to land on my knees. Only then did I realize this was my personal, normal phone, the Cassidy one. The Paintball one still lay there silent. So the call wasn¡¯t coming from my team or anyone looking for help. It was¡­ huh. The number wasn¡¯t familiar, and there wasn¡¯t a name attached to it. That could¡¯ve meant it was spam, but hell, I was distracted now. Or maybe I was still just looking for something that could distract me, against my better judgment. Even if the very idea of talking to anyone, let alone a probable stranger, over the phone if I didn''t absolutely have to would have been basically unheard of not so long ago. Phones were for texting. If someone wanted to ask me something or whatever, why wouldn''t they text?


    Either way, I hesitated only slightly before answering the call. If it was nothing, I could just hang up. ¡°Uh, yo?¡± Yes, very articulate of me. Also, fairly masculine. I¡¯d transformed into my male-presenting self. Fortunately, there wasn¡¯t really that big of a difference in my voice. Not enough to be detected over the phone, hopefully.


    ¡°Cassidy Evans?¡± The voice that responded was familiar, but I couldn''t place it immediately. Not over the phone. ¡°This is Maki, Tomas¡¯s¡­ ahh¡­¡±


    ¡°Maki!¡± Why were they calling me? What possible reason could they have to want to talk directly to me like this? Now I was even more confused about why this hadn''t been a text. ¡°Uh, hi, what''s going on? Did something happen?¡± At this point, my paranoia had even more fuel to work with. Considering we had just recently been trying to figure out the best way to break into Maki¡¯s family''s house to find out what the hell was going on with that list, some part of me was spiraling out. Did they somehow know that we were talking about that? Did they have some way of instinctively knowing if someone was planning to break in? Did they know who I was and what I was doing in my spare time? Was this entire call a trick to distract me while the Ministry assembled outside my door? Could they detect that my voice sounded slightly more masculine than it should and was that about to give away every secret I had?!


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    Okay, maybe no more caffeine for me for a little while. I was definitely just a bit too wound up right now. With effort, I forced the panic back down to something approaching a more reasonable level and breathed while listening to Maki''s response.


    ¡°No,¡± they assured me immediately. ¡°Nothing happened. Nothing bad. Tomas suggested that you might benefit from a bit of extra studying, and given I am covering the same material for upcoming tests, he believed it might be beneficial for us to study together. If that happens to be something you would be¡­ open to? He had planned to speak with you about that himself before being pulled into some sort of family meeting. From your reaction, I presume he couldn''t pull himself away to text.¡±


    Oh. Oh, studying. Right, that thing I was supposed to be doing right now. That was right, I had mentioned to Tomas about how I was going to have to buckle down and lock myself in my room to study today. Obviously, I hadn''t gotten into the details about why I had been so distracted lately, but still. He knew I was doing this, so suggesting I pair up and study with Maki made sense. There was nothing untoward or dangerous about it. Even if I was more than a little curious about what this distracting family meeting was all about. Something big enough that it had stopped him from even texting to let me know Maki was going to call. It didn''t even necessarily have anything to do with the Ministry, and yet I couldn''t help but dwell on that. Even if it wasn''t about the Ministry and he was completely clueless about that whole thing, I still wanted to know what was going on.


    Speaking of dwelling on things, I realized at that point that I had been silent for a couple seconds. Probably long enough for Maki to start feeling awkward. Or more awkward. Quickly, I agreed, ¡°Oh, yeah sure, that sounds good. I could use some help staying on task, to be honest. I get¡­ uh, let''s just say distracted easily. How should we do it? Do you wanna meet at the library or¡­¡± Wait, what was I doing? This was a tailor-made perfect excuse for getting into their house without any suspicion whatsoever, and I was just throwing that away? How could I casually bring up the idea of going over there without being too obvious? Maybe I could find a way to make going to the library a bad idea. But then they would want to know why we couldn''t just come here. I had to come up with something that would make going to their house the only reasonable option. Something subtle that wouldn''t waste any of their suspicions. Something--


    ¡°You should come to my house,¡± Maki interrupted my rambling thoughts once again. ¡°We have everything we need here, and I promise it is comfortable enough. More comfortable than the public library, in any case. Besides, my parents would prefer that I study here under their roof and in private, where it is¡­ convenient.¡± It was clear that their last word was going to be ¡®safe¡¯ before they changed at the very end, which raised all sorts of questions. Not that having questions about Maki and their family was anything new, of course. It was just another bit of oddness to chuck onto the pile.


    But then, bricks and glass houses. For all I knew, there was someone out there trying to figure out what was up with all the strangeness I exhibited.


    God, I really felt sorry for that poor person if so.


    Well this really worked out, even if-- nope, I was not going to go shoving my head down the throat of any horses looking for soldiers. The fact was, if Maki was working for the Ministry and this was a trap, they all had much easier ways of corralling me. Seriously, I was sitting in the home of their leaders. I already came nice and pre-trapped.


    As I agreed to come over there, Maki asked if I remembered where it was. Which, naturally, sent yet another wave of paranoia through me about whether this was a test and they knew I had been watching the house as Paintball. But no, duh, I had seen the house when we dropped Maki off there.


    Assuring them that I knew where to go, I promised to be there in just a little bit, and that I would bring some food so we wouldn''t have to interrupt the whole studying thing later. Then I headed out.


    To be perfectly honest, it felt strange to be leaving my house and going somewhere else entirely as Cassidy. I wasn''t even going to change and paint my way through the city to make the trip faster. This was all a complete civilian Prev thing, which felt strange by this point. So much of my life was taken up with being Paintball, especially since Sleeptalk happened, that doing something as normal as this was practically unheard of. And even this didn''t really count if I thought about it. After all, I was going to use my time there to scout out the house and see if I could spot anything that would help us break in later so we could get answers about the list. And yes, I still felt guilty about that whole idea.


    Actually, I felt even worse now. Maki was trying to help me with school when they didn''t have to, just because my ex-boyfriend, their current boyfriend, had said something about me having trouble. They were being nice when they didn''t have to, going out of their way, and I was rewarding it by making plans to sneak into their home and search the place.


    But it couldn''t be helped. We had to know what was up with that list and why I was on it. No matter how uncomfortable the whole situation made me, we had to get to the bottom of all that. And hell, maybe the reason they had even invited me over anyway had something to do with me being on that list.


    Oh, right, that really could be a thing, couldn''t it? This might not be a trap involving being Paintball, but it could have something to do with that list. Great, now I really was going to have to keep my eyes open. All of which was making my paranoia do ¡®I told you so¡¯ dances deep in my stomach.


    But oh well, I would just have to take all that as it came. If anything went wrong, I would deal with it. But one thing was for sure, I was going to have to be very careful in that place. Especially if they were paying attention to me for list-related reasons.


    I did text Paige to let her know what was going on and what I was doing, just in case. From her quick response, it was clear that she was about as nervous and uncertain about the idea as I was, but also recognized that it was our best chance to get eyes in the house so we could see what was going on there. She did make me promise to text her every half hour to let her know things were fine.


    Technically, she wanted it to happen every fifteen minutes at first, which felt like a bit much. I talked her up to thirty. She also swore that if I didn''t check in and failed to respond to her, she would find an excuse to visit even if it meant kicking in the door.


    Suggesting that she be a little more subtle unless she absolutely had no choice, I took a moment to make sure Izzy and Amber were up to speed as well. They were out doing Minority things. Which, yes, the idea of my little sister and friend being out there potentially fighting when I wasn''t had made me feel guilty. But they had both sworn to shove me in a dumpster with my books and a flashlight if they caught me out trying to help instead of studying. Which I thought might have been a little excessive, but it did manage to get their point across at least.


    I was doing my best not to let that paranoia jump on the fact that neither of them responded right away. They were just busy, that was all. They would be fine. No, this wasn''t an excuse to suit up and go find them. If they needed help, they would ask for it. And the second they did, I would be out Maki¡¯s door so fast I might break the hinges off.


    As I was picking up food, Maki texted to let me know that we were going to have another person. Their tutor was swinging by to help. And by tutor, they meant Ryder. So he was going to be there too. That was-- huh, that could work. Though if they worked for the Ministry, I felt like they had a good chance of knowing who he was and what his powers were. Which meant they would probably be watching us even more closely. I had to keep things as cool and normal as possible. Good luck to me.


    Finally, I made it to that house, stepping out of the rideshare I had been using. Thanking the driver, before handing over an extra cash tip so I could be sure the company wouldn''t take their cut of it, I stood with my backpack full of textbooks over one shoulder, and a bag of food in my other hand. I had grabbed enough for Ryder as well, of course.


    Taking a breath before letting it out, I started walking up to the house. Here went nothing. With any luck, I was going to get closer to finding out what was going on with that list of Maki¡¯s. Not to mention all the other curious things about them.


    Oh yeah, and if there was any spare time in all of that, I would do my best to get some actual studying done so I wouldn''t end up failing out of high school while I was at it.

 Learning Lessons 31-17

    Uhh, oops. I had just been let in by the gate guard and was halfway to the front door when I realized one very important mistake I had made. Namely, I was still in my male-presentation form. Fortunately, the guard himself hadn¡¯t looked very closely at me before opening the gate and waving me through, distracted by something on his computer. It helped that I didn¡¯t look that different as a boy. But there was a difference between the guard not noticing anything when I was walking past and Maki not noticing when I was standing right in front of them. I may not have exactly been stacked up there as a girl, but again, I wasn¡¯t a washboard either. And I was just wearing a tee-shirt since it was summer.


    More importantly, the front door was opening right that second. I didn¡¯t have time to think about anything other than how bad this would be if anyone noticed anything. I needed to be a girl up there again, I needed--


    And then I was a girl. But I was also a boy. I could tell, just from--well, I could just tell. I had girl parts up top and boy parts below. Right, yeah, I could mix and match, just by thinking about it. That was useful.


    I didn¡¯t have time to dwell on that, before Maki finished opening the door to welcome me politely. After we exchanged greetings, they walked me through what turned out to be a stuffy, very fancy home full of expensive artwork. It was a nice place, unsurprisingly. But it wasn''t exactly homey. To be honest, the whole place seemed more like a fancy museum than a place where people lived. At least in the parts we were walking through. There were art pieces and statues throughout the hallways and rooms that gave me the impression getting a single fingerprint on any of them would force my parents to buy it at an incredibly marked-up price. It was a mix of western and eastern art with no apparent rhyme or reason. I supposed it was simply the art Maki¡¯s parents enjoyed. Or maybe they took turns choosing and had very different styles from one another. It could be that simple.


    On the way, Maki asked if I would like some iced tea or lemonade. When I agreed to whichever was easier, they took me out onto the patio behind the house. There was a covered space in the corner, and I could see a table there with several books set up along with a few padded chairs. Ryder was already sitting there, going over one of the books in question. When we came out, he quickly jumped up and extended a hand, greeting me while doing a fairly good job at pretending we had only met a couple times. The two of us did a whole song and dance about recognizing each other.


    Once we were sufficiently ¡®reintroduced,¡¯ Maki excused themself to go in and get those drinks, promising we would start as soon as they got back. Which left the two of us standing there by the table together. From the look on Ryder¡¯s face, he had a lot he wanted to ask me about. Instead, he pulled out a chair for me before taking one himself after I blushed and sat down. Once we were arranged, he picked up one of the books again and then spoke while pretending to flip through the thing. ¡°They can''t hear what we''re saying, but they can see us. I don''t have enough footage to loop anything yet. Just don''t look directly at the camera so they can''t see that what you''re saying doesn''t actually match your lips. I checked for any other listening devices or anything like that while he was letting you in. Are you okay? I mean, after what happened back there. I know you said you were fine with that text and all, but seriously, that--you were--¡±


    Grabbing one of the books, I flipped through it before replying, ¡°I have new powers--I mean I have the same powers but a few new tricks to go with them. I¡¯ll show you later. But for now I need you to do me a favor. You remember that list I found? We¡¯re trying to figure out what that was about, but I need to look around while I¡¯m here. It¡¯s the best chance I¡¯m gonna get.¡±


    Ryder blanched. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°Not at all. But I don¡¯t have much choice. We need to find out what that list is, and that means either finding answers now, or being able to get back in here later. Either way, I need to look around. So when I say that the waterfall¡¯s run through me and I need to use the restroom, I need you to keep Maki distracted. I¡¯ll go to the bathroom and then while I¡¯m in there, I need your mites to deal with the cameras so I can sneak out and look around this place for a minute without being seen.¡±


    After getting all that out, I raised my gaze to peek that way, hopefully subtly enough not to be noticed on the security feed. ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to ask, and you have no reason to do all that just because I asked you t--¡±


    ¡°Are you kidding?¡± Keeping his voice low, Ryder flipped a couple pages as though deeply interested in the book as he insisted, ¡°After everything I''ve seen with you, I''m pretty sure I¡¯d set this house on fire if you said it was important. And you¡¯re right, finding out what that list is about is important. So yeah, I''ve got your back.¡±


    Maybe this was just a bad idea in general. Maybe it was stupid to even think about walking around while I was here. But it was too good of an opportunity to risk missing. I was already in the house, and had Ryder right here with me. I wouldn''t push things too far, but at the very least, I could get a better idea about the layout of the place and where all the important rooms were before we eventually broke in here. And hell, maybe I would get incredibly lucky and happen to find enough answers this way that we wouldn''t even need to break in. Yeah, it wasn''t exactly likely, but stranger things had happened. The point was, I couldn''t risk throwing this chance away. Even if Paige probably would¡¯ve strangled me if she so much as thought I was doing this.


    In any case, I wasn''t going to push things too early. We needed to settle into a studying routine. Besides, just before Maki came back, Ryder informed me that he was going to send his Mites throughout the house to find out just how many people were here, where they all were, and anything else that could help when I started sneaking around. He needed time for all that.


    And, of course, there was the fact that I actually did need to study. Yeah, I kind of skimmed over that part a bit, but it was important. It wouldn''t matter how much I found out or how many secrets I uncovered if I ended up failing out of school. My parents would bring themselves out of their Sleeptalk comas completely on their own just to kill me before anything else even came up. Which--sure using that as a way of waking them up might¡¯ve been somewhat tempting, but I was pretty sure we weren¡¯t quite that desperate yet. After all, they were still working on that actual cure from Amanda, so I was just going to go ahead and keep ¡®pissing my parents off enough to make them snap out of it through sheer willpower¡¯ in my back pocket for the time being.


    So, for a couple hours, we studied. Which worked out pretty well. Between Maki and Ryder, I had a lot of help.


    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡±


    They were both really good at explaining things, especially when they worked together. I had been having trouble with some Geometry stuff and the two of them managed to walk me through it with some better examples.


    ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am?¡±


    I wasn''t going to become a mathematician anytime soon, but it was enough to get me through the upcoming test. At least, I hoped it was.


    ¡°Ahem, ma¡¯am?¡±


    It wasn''t just math either. Through those hours, we went over a little bit of everything Maki and I were going to need to know. They might have been homeschooled, but even Maki had their own finals to get through, and Ryder was helping to make sure we were prepared for all that. I even managed to help a couple times, repeating the things my own teachers had said about a subject in a way that helped Maki better than the way they¡¯d had it explained by their tutors.


    A light kick hit my shin then, as Ryder cleared his throat. ¡°Cassidy.¡±


    ¡°Huh, what?¡± Blinking up, I saw the maid standing there with a tray of fresh drinks. She looked a little embarrassed, and I belatedly realized that she had been trying to get my attention that whole time, with the repeated ¡®ma¡¯ams.¡¯ Right, right, I was supposed to be somewhat girl-adjacent of a sort. It was my turn to blush self-consciously while taking the glass with a murmured thanks.


    After distributing the drinks, the maid asked, ¡°Will there be anything else, sir?¡±


    ¡°No, thanks,¡± both Ryder and I replied, while Maki, the person she was actually talking to, remained silent, staring off into the distance. Had I just instinctively responded because I felt guilty about not realizing she was talking to me before? Was Maki not answering because they felt more feminine today? I had no idea, though both Ryder and I went to nudge Maki with our feet and ended up kicking each other in the shins because we were closer to each other than we were to them, making each of us yelp and bump the table.


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    That was enough to make our host look up quickly, realize they had made the same mistake I did, and assure the maid that everything was fine.


    Right, so I was sitting there as a half-boy, half-girl, completely missing the maid repeatedly trying to get my attention with ¡®ma¡¯am¡¯ just before Maki managed to miss her trying to get their attention with ¡®sir,¡¯ a thing that I actually responded to. We were doing great, just fantastic.


    Shortly after that, Maki themself had to step away with their own polite excuse. I wasn¡¯t sure what they were doing, but they came back a few minutes later looking a bit like they had--well, like they had been running, almost. They were panting slightly, and when asked, just said they¡¯d had to run upstairs to do something for their parents. Which raised all sorts of questions, given Ryder sent me a text letting me know that he was pretty sure Maki¡¯s parents weren¡¯t here. But he couldn¡¯t figure out what our study partner had been doing either, besides going into their bedroom where there weren¡¯t any cameras. So they had run up to their room, stayed there for a few minutes, then came back out of breath while claiming they¡¯d been doing something for their parents. That was¡­ I had no idea what that was or what it could mean.


    Honestly, beyond the weirdness of what Maki had been doing there, I kind of forgot about sneaking around for a little bit. They stopped doing it after the first hour and a half or so, and I got so lost in the studying part that I didn''t think about the rest of that. Which was a little weird, given how certain I had been that I wouldn''t even be able to focus on studying. I had thought that I would just spend an hour or so squirming around and barely paying attention, going through the bare minimum just to make it look good before making an excuse to sneak off so I could look around and find something. But as it was, I only remembered that I was supposed to be doing something else after glancing at my phone and seeing how late it was getting. If I didn''t make a move soon, I was going to run out of time. How stupid would I feel then, if I had this perfect opportunity to look around and let it slip out of my fingers just because I was distracted?


    No, I couldn¡¯t let that happen. Dangerous as it might¡¯ve been, I had to use this chance. So, as Maki and Ryder were engrossed in a discussion about a bit of history talk that didn¡¯t have anything to do with my own classes, I sat up, mentioned the waterfall bit, and asked where the bathroom was. Maki gave directions and politely offered to walk me inside, but I assured them that I could make it myself and that they shouldn''t interrupt just to stand around the bathroom waiting for me. Then I hopped up and headed that way, doing my best to look as casual as possible. The last thing I needed was for them to notice how nervous I was. Well, okay, not the absolute worst thing. There was a whole long list of bad things above that, but still, I needed to be cool.


    Thankfully, Ryder had informed me that there were only a few people working in the house as far as he could tell. Maki¡¯s parents were gone, and there was only that single maid, a chef, and one guard inside who did a walk-through once an hour but mostly stayed in the security room. There were more guards assigned to the grounds who didn''t come in, so unless I really screwed up, they wouldn''t be a problem. The maid wandered around doing her cleaning, and would be the biggest obstacle after the cameras were taken care of. But with Ryder¡¯s help, I¡¯d work my way around her. And I would just have to stay out of the kitchen to avoid the chef. I kind of doubted there would be anything too important in there anyway. But just because I thought that, there was probably a notebook explaining the entire situation in exquisite detail sitting right on the dining room table or something.


    Soon, I was standing in the bathroom with the door locked, breathing in and out. Okay, I could do this. Yes, it was dangerous and maybe a little dumb. But there was something going on with Maki. They had a list of names, one of which was mine. No matter how risky this was, it was also our best chance to find out more about that, my best chance to get some actual information about why my name was on that list. Or at very least, lay the groundwork for finding out more later when I snuck back in with the others. There was no way I could be in this house and not look around. I wouldn''t have forgiven myself. Especially if we found out what was going on later and it turned out to be something bad that we could have stopped with a little warning.


    As soon as Ryder sent a text to let me know that the coast was clear, I exhaled and then slipped out. Looking both ways up and down the hall, I turned left and followed the path the boy had given for how to get to Maki¡¯s room. That was where I had to go first. It was where they kept going off to when they disappeared repeatedly, and it was probably where they would keep anything related to that list. Yes, I felt bad about the prospect of snooping through private stuff. Really bad, in fact. But my name. I had to find out why they had my name on the list. There were too many very bad possibilities about all that. I couldn''t risk just ignoring it. And no matter how nice Maki seemed, there was no way I could just ask them. Not when I already knew for a fact that they had some sort of connection to the Ministry. Enough of one, at least, for Kent Jackson to show up and convince Maki to get in the car with him when they had been having an argument with their parents in public.


    I had to step into a side room at one point when Ryder sent a warning about the maid walking through, but other than that, it was a straight shot up to Maki¡¯s room. Telling myself I was going to focus on figuring out what was going on and would ignore anything else private, I went up to the door and tried it.


    Locked, of course. But that wasn¡¯t going to slow me down. Looking around quickly, I took a deep breath, told myself I trusted Ryder to make sure this didn¡¯t end up recorded on camera, then melted into my pink-puddle form. Knowing that seeing this was probably going to surprise the boy, I slid right under the narrow crack beneath the door, then reformed on the other side.


    The room looked like it was made for two different people to live in together. There were two beds sitting side by side in the middle of the room. The exact middle, actually, rather than having the headboards be against one of the walls. One of the beds had red sheets and blankets, with a car magazine and a Switch console sitting on the pillow. The other bed, close enough to simply roll onto from the first, had a guitar and some music sheets spread over it. That bed had light green sheets and darker green blankets. It also looked messier than the first


    The room itself was clearly divided in two as well. The walls and carpet on the side of the red bed were pristine white, with very little decoration aside from a few certificates on the wall. There was a desk on that side, with a notebook and pencils lined up perfectly next to a literal ruler. It was like whoever had put them there had actually checked to make sure they were centered on the desk.


    Meanwhile, the other side of the room was messier. The carpet was dark instead of white, and I couldn''t tell what color the walls were, because they were completely covered in posters of various things. Musicians, actors, funny quotes, even landmarks. I couldn''t see any rhyme or reason to it. There were a few clothes lying around haphazardly, a pogo stick and baseball bat, and even what looked like an old VHS video camera that had been partially disassembled. The desk on that side of the room had a half-built computer on it along with some tools and extra components.


    Was this just how Maki lived, switching back and forth between their more feminine and masculine selves? I was feeling masculine today so far, but it wasn''t that big of a shift as far as my personality went. Maki¡¯s changes seemed far more dramatic, without even counting the physical change. A change, I reminded myself, that I wasn''t even supposed to know anything about.


    The first thing I did, of course, was look at that notebook. Unfortunately, it was blank, though it was clear that some pages had been torn out. I tried that trick of sketching lightly with the edge of a pencil to see the indentations of what was written on the sheet above the current one, and managed to get a scrawled name, ¡®Esther Dranners¡¯ and a phone number. It didn''t look like a local one, but I would check up on that later to find out for sure.


    Carefully tearing off that sheet and folding it into my pocket, I looked through the rest of the desk as quickly and carefully as possible. Soon, I managed to pull out a large binder. It wasn''t labeled, but there were colored tabs along the pages with names on them. And yes, one of those tabs had my name. So that single list wasn''t a fluke or one-time thing. Seeing my name on the tab, my stomach turned over a few times and I clenched my hands into fists. Then I took a deep breath and carefully opened the binder to that spot.


    The first thing I saw was a picture of myself taken about a year earlier when my family had gone on a trip to Florida for a few days. Right next to that were a few news article clippings about a disaster a couple hundred miles away from there around that time.


    Frowning in confusion and uncertainty, I flipped through the binder some more. Every entry was like that, and not just for me. It was all about all the people on that list having taken trips to places that had bad things happen somewhere relatively nearby.


    No, not just any bad things. As I flipped through the binder and saw some handwritten notes, the picture began to become a little more clear. While simultaneously being completely baffling. This wasn''t just about bad things happening. It was about Collision Points. Either obvious, known ones, or minor events that could possibly have been Collision Points that were either covered up or settled before people realized what was going on. That happened sometimes. Abyssals would get into a fight in an area that was remote, or only had a few people in it. People who didn''t survive to explain that it hadn¡¯t been just a random explosion or accident.


    Either way, enough of the truth about the situation became obvious as I went through that binder. Maki thought that someone in that list was actually an Abyssal, that someone they were investigating could transform into one of those giant, horrifically destructive monsters who killed everyone in their path.


    And they thought I was one of those possibilities.

 Learning Lessons 31-18

    The rooftops went flying by underneath me as I sent myself rocketing over them. I was using every trick I had learned over these months to increase my speed to truly dangerous degrees. I didn''t care how dangerous it was, not right then. I needed to clear my head, and this was the best way to do it. The world around me was a blur, and it wasn''t just because of how fast I was going. It all seemed distant, like it wasn''t really there. I was lost in my thoughts, in the thoughts that had been rampaging through my head ever since I realized what that list was about.


    I had spent the rest of the time we were supposed to be studying going through the motions. As had Ryder after I told him what I had found out. Both of us were clearly reeling and doing our best to seem normal, but I wasn''t sure how well we pulled it off. Part of me had wanted to leave immediately, but I knew that wouldn''t play out well. Besides, I really did need to study.


    So, I went through those motions and tried to focus on my upcoming tests. I pushed all those confusing thoughts out of my mind for as long as possible.


    But now they were all back. Now I was dressed up as Paintball and practically flying through the city. I had promised Ryder that I would talk to him later once I had a chance to clear my head. He had insisted that the very idea was stupid and that there was absolutely no way I was actually an Abyssal. It had to be one of the others on the list. I had agreed with him because I knew that''s what he wanted to hear, and then I left. I changed and started running. Now it had been twenty minutes and I still hadn''t stopped. My brain was racing uncontrollably and my body followed suit. I just wanted to run away from every confusing thought, every bit of fear, every feeling I had. I wanted to run away from all of it and not stop running until it was over.


    I had turned off my phones so I could clear my head without being bothered. Part of me knew that was a bad idea with the city in the state it was. But then again, for those few minutes, I wouldn''t have been any use to anyone even if they needed me. There was no way I could have pulled myself together enough to help. Not right then.


    Yes, it was stupid. It was idiotic. There was no way I was actually an Abyssal. I knew what I was. I was a Touched. I had Touched twice, and I knew what my powers were. I knew exactly when I had Touched and it was long after the moments that had been recorded in that notebook as a possible indication that I could be one of those creatures. I knew what I was capable of. I knew I one hundred percent was not an Abyssal.


    And yet, despite all of that, traitorous voices kept whispering in the back of my mind. What if I hadn''t Touched twice, but three times? What if I had Touched before and didn''t remember it, because the first time had made me into one of those monsters? What if I really was one of the Hidden? They didn''t remember being Abyssals, and they only manifested when they physically encountered another one of their kind. I had been in the right general area when one of the Abyssal attacks happened, and my official whereabouts during that time weren''t accounted for.


    I wasn''t sure where Maki was getting all of their information, but I had no real reason to think it was completely made up. Besides, it wasn''t like I remembered everything I had done years ago. Especially considering my memory had already been fucked with at least once. For all I knew, I really had been an Abyssal and somehow found out about it despite the general memory loss associated with Hidden Abyssals, but my parents had erased that memory too. Would that really have been a stretch considering what they had already done in the name of protecting me?


    I had no idea. I honestly didn''t know anymore. I didn''t know anything anymore. All I could do was run and jump and skate. Nothing else mattered right then. I had to clear my head, had to shove all those thoughts away and just exist in the moment. I had to take this time to just exist and find a way to breathe without hyperventilating. Skating and running gave me the chance to forget everything. It had always been my favorite way of clearing my head. But this time it took a lot more before I was even close to making myself somewhat functional.


    Could it even be possible? Was there the slightest, most remote chance that I might actually be one of those people and not even know it? It couldn''t be, right? There was no chance, not really. I would know deep down, if there was something inside me that turned me into a monster that could kill everyone in my path. There was no way I could be one of those things and not realize it.


    That was the way my brain kept working the entire time I was trying to push those thoughts out of it. I would come to the conclusion that it was all completely impossible, that I would have known the truth. Then those whispers would start up, pointing out that my memory could''ve been erased, that Hidden Abyssals didn''t know what they were even without extra memory fuckery, and everything else. If I had Touched two times, I could have Touched a third and not even known it. And if I had, if I was already one of the Abyssals, would I be an even worse one now that I had Touched twice more? Did that even matter? I didn''t know. There was so much I didn''t know. I needed to research it. I needed to find out for certain if there was any possible chance that I could be one of those things. Now that the suggestion had been made, I couldn''t think about anything else. I had to figure out everything I could about how that all worked. And as soon as I could think the word Abyssal without wanting to scream until my throat was hoarse, I''d get right on that. One thing at a time.


    Finally, after I had made my way through what had to be half the city like that, I came down on a roof and stopped there. I nearly pitched all the way over thanks to my momentum, but I managed to stop just in time. Then I simply crouched there, staring at the busy street in front of me. I was looking, but I wasn''t processing what was there. Even though I had stopped moving, everything was still a blur. Only belatedly did I realize that there were tears in my eyes. This was so stupid. Why was I reacting this much to the suggestion that I could possibly be an Abyssal? it was just a hypothetical. I was one name on a list of many. And the evidence about me being one was pretty flimsy. Just because I happened to be within the general area where an Abyssal attack had happened, and not even that close. Was it really that big of a deal that I had been within a certain number of miles from where the attack took place? And just because there were no official accounts of my whereabouts at that time, no photographs, no videos, nothing to show exactly where I was while the attack was happening, that didn''t mean much either. I was a kid. It had been years ago, even before the whole thing with Anthony. I was a child, of course they didn''t have records of what I was doing every moment of every day.


    It was just slightly possible that I was spinning out about this because I was so stressed about everything else. Something told me my reaction wasn''t just because of the hypothetical suggestion that I maybe possibly might have a slight chance of being one of those people. It was more about this being yet another straw tossed onto the camel. I needed to go somewhere and scream for a while without worrying about disturbing anyone or about how anyone would react.


    Sitting there on the edge of the roof for a few minutes, I collected myself, breathing in and out slowly while bringing myself under control. I was being an idiot. I knew that. Yes, there was a lot of stress. Yes, too much had been going on for too long. But I knew I wasn''t an Abyssal. I had to believe that if I had been one, my parents would know, and they wouldn''t just let me run around free where I could run into another one like me. They cared about this city. They wouldn''t want to risk a Collision Point happening here. They had to know that if I was one of those things and they let me run around willy-nilly, very bad things could happen.


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    Yeah, that was it. That had to be it. I wasn''t one of those creatures, because my parents would''ve known and they wouldn''t have let me run around the city as much as I did. I would''ve been on a much shorter leash. They would''ve watched me a lot more closely. That had to prove I wasn''t one of those things, right?


    Once I let myself think about that, it was much easier to calm down. Yes, there was no way I could be an Abyssal. It was one of the others on that list. Which, of course, didn''t exactly make me feel perfect. After all, even if I wasn''t in danger of turning into a giant monster that could rampage through the city and kill hundreds or even thousands of people, that still meant there was someone else in the city who was. And that was just what we needed after everything else that had happened, to have a Collision Point. And maybe after that, a giant volcano could open up and spew lava and ash all over the city.


    Yes, yes, there was no real reason to think it would happen all of a sudden just because I had heard that there was a possible Abyssal in the city. If they really thought I could be one of them, then it had been years since that happened. It could be years before any of this even mattered at all.


    Or it could happen tomorrow, because that was just the way our luck seemed to be going, to be honest.


    A pain in my throat told me that what I really needed right then was some water. And no wonder, after I had been sprinting across the rooftops of half the city. Fortunately, I kept a bottle of water in my special bag. So, slumping on the edge of the roof, I took the bottle out and sipped for a minute. My eyes closed, and I took a few deep breaths before sipping again. With that, I finally felt human again.


    Taking out my two phones, I checked them for messages. I expected to have missed dozens of calls and texts warning me about some utter catastrophe that I had been selfishly ignoring with my personal freakout. But there was basically nothing. Ryder had left me a message assuring me yet again that I had nothing to worry about, basically saying the same things I had thought through myself about how impossible it would be for me to be one of those things. He also promised to look into that list if I could give it to him to see what he could find out about any of the other names, just in case.


    There were also a couple messages from Wren and the others letting me know that they had finished sorting through the toys the Ministry had given over and made sure they were all safe. They had some ideas about beefing up defenses around the shop, since it seemed like people were starting to snoop around that area too much. We''d already had those Biolems and their companions skulking around the neighborhood before when they had tried to force us to give up Pittman. If anything else like that happened again, it¡¯d be nice to have ways of dealing with them quickly and quietly.


    Oh, and of course, on my regular phone I had a text from the school reminding me about the times and locations for my finals starting tomorrow. Finals that would, in no uncertain terms, decide whether I passed and made it to the next grade. Because I clearly didn''t have enough on my mind as it was.


    After straightening up and sending replies, I thought for a moment and sent a message to Izzy, inviting her to get some cheeseburgers and hang out somewhere. I wanted to talk to her about all this, and get her perspective, but not over the phone. And certainly not over text. I needed to talk.


    Thankfully, she wasn''t too busy and had just gotten sent away from the Minority after hitting her maximum official patrol hours for the weekend. So, we arranged to meet up at an old diner near a secluded park that I knew. We could hang out there and talk without worrying about having a bunch of people around. Especially these days, with so few people wanting to just sit around in public where they could be targeted.


    Yeah, I really hoped they''d fix this Sleeptalk shit soon so we could get rid of the quarantine and get the city back on its feet.


    In the meantime, I made my way to the diner, switching into my normal clothes in an alley nearby before heading across the street to meet Izzy. I didn''t even say anything, but the moment she saw my face, the younger girl immediately knew something was wrong. She didn''t bring it up right then, but I could tell she knew. She could read my expression, and I could read hers.


    We went in to get food, coming out with a couple bags a minute later. Silently, the two of us went over into the park and followed a partially-overgrown trail to a secluded part of it. It was up on a small hill by a few big rocks that we could sit on, so we could see the trail below and know if anyone was coming.


    Now that we had privacy, Izzy took a bite of her cheeseburger and looked at me. Her voice was soft. ¡°Um, do you wanna talk about it, or just sit here for a little bit?¡± She had absolutely no idea what had upset me, but still wanted to let me talk about it at my own speed. What could I possibly have done to get a little sister who was this cool? I didn''t deserve her. Especially if I really was-- dammit, no. I wasn''t, and I had to stop even slightly entertaining the prospect.


    Still, she needed to know what was going on. So, I took a deep breath before launching into the entire explanation. I told her about going over to that place to study, about Ryder being there, and how I had found out exactly what that list was for, including why I was on it.


    Izzy took all that in, before turning and punching me in the shoulder. It wasn''t hard, but still, the blow made me gasp. She was squinting at me. ¡°Cassie, I know you take a lot on, but you''re not an Abyssal. You know when you Touched, and what your powers are.¡±


    Rubbing my shoulder, I nodded. ¡°I know, but I''m pretty sure regular Touched can secretly be Abyssals too, and if I Touched twice, it could''ve happened three times.¡± I held my hands up when she started to retort. ¡°I know, I know it''s not likely. Trust me, I already had my huge freakout. I talked myself through all of this. The odds of me being one of those things are so¡­ so¡­¡± I trailed off then, my face paling a bit.


    ¡°What?¡± Izzy blink at the change in my demeanor. ¡°What''s wrong? You just thought about something, didn''t you?¡±


    My head bobbed a little. ¡°Earlier, I was telling myself that I couldn''t have been an Abyssal without my parents knowing. But what if they do know? Remember, that genetic reset medicine thing they¡¯ve been working on? We thought it was just to take someone''s powers away, but what if it''s more than that? What if they know there''s an Abyssal around here, and they''re trying to create a thing to make them not an Abyssal anymore? Who would they be more motivated to make that cure for besides me? Or Simon, and I''m not sure that''s any better.¡±


    Izzy set her food down and put both arms around me to hug tightly. Her voice was firm. ¡°Yo--our parents would want to know how to fix any Abyssal who lives in the city, no matter who they were. So of course they''d have their people working on something like that if they knew it was a possibility. And you''re forgetting something. Why would Maki be trying to figure out who the Abyssal was if it was you? They''re connected to the Ministry, right? So they should know. Doesn''t it make more sense if they aren''t sure who it is and you''ve just been included on a list of possibilities to be thorough? But like you said, our parents would know if you had transformed back then. Even if there aren''t records of where you were, they were there with you. So if they don''t know that you¡¯re an Abyssal, then you can''t be, right?¡±


    My mouth opened and shut before I moved my arms to return her hug tightly. ¡°Thanks, Izz.¡± Sometimes you just needed someone else to logic you through a very emotional situation.


    And speaking of emotional situations, the two of us both jumped as our phones buzzed simultaneously. Glancing at one another, we scrambled to take them out and look. The only thing going through my mind was that there was only one good reason for both of us to get a message at the same time. And I was right. The message was from Simon, telling us to get over to the hospital right now.


    They were about to give the final stage of the cure to our parents to wake them up.

 Learning Lessons 31-19

    I really wished medicine worked immediately like it did in so many movies. Or at least, that I could skip over all the time where nothing happened with a few commercials and come back at a point just a few seconds before the medicine magically did its job and everyone got to be happy. Then again, being able to skip right over certain parts of my life in general might be pretty beneficial anyway.


    Wait, what the hell was I thinking? The only parts that I would be able to skip over in such a scenario were the boring ones. Or at least, the ones that weren''t considered dramatic enough. I really needed those moments. If my entire life was nothing but the terror, screaming, and both physical and emotional flailing, I would have completely lost it already. The slow, uneventful parts were the ones that gave me the time to actually process everything else a bit.


    Still, I was done processing at the moment, and would have really liked to fast forward to the part where the medicine did its job and my parents were awake. We had all waited more than long enough.


    But no, just because the last stage of that cure had been administered didn''t mean that my parents were immediately on their feet. Apparently, the doctors had no real idea how long it would take for the last bit to do its business. Sleeptalk itself was so complicated, had been designed to be so difficult to cure, that even once you went through every stage of fixing the damn stuff, it was still very unpredictable. And as complicated as the human body could be, they weren''t even positive that it would work properly. They had used it on a couple other people to some success. One of them woke up in fifteen minutes, and the other took almost six hours to snap out of it. I had no idea what the difference was, or how many complications could pop up. All I knew was that we could get the call any minute that they were conscious. Or we could be waiting all night. Maybe one of them would wake up hours before the other. I''d like to think that my parents were so in sync that they would come out of it at the same time, but there was no way to guess.


    Honestly, sitting around the little waiting room for hours upon hours, agonizing about every little detail, would have been torture. Fortunately, we didn''t have to do that. For administration of the cure, my parents have been moved to a secure lab in the middle of the Seraphim campus. If anyone wanted to interrupt the process, they would have to fight their way through a hell of a lot of defenses.


    Which, of course, reminded me that I still had no idea who had attacked that lab where they were creating the cure to begin with. Three brand new Touched I''d never seen before, and a small army of Prev troops, but they weren''t part of any established gang? Where the hell had they come from? Why had they attacked that building? There wasn¡¯t the slightest snowflake¡¯s chance in hell that the Ministry would have given them clearance for that, so they were obviously breaking all those rules right in the open. That in and of itself raised so many questions.


    In any case, no, we weren''t sitting around a waiting room with plastic chairs and old magazines. Instead, Izzy, Simon, and I were in one of the Seraphim game rooms. It was like an arcade in a soundproof room so it wouldn''t disturb anyone else, meant to give kids a distraction while they were waiting either for a relative to get out, or for their own treatment. There were several people in here using wheelchairs and heavy crutches to move from machine to machine, each of which had been specially designed to adapt to those needs. The arcade cabinets were set up so that someone in a wheelchair could pull down the controls to their level and see the screen. There were a couple foosball and air hockey tables that had a platform a wheelchair could lock into and raise up a bit so the person could play properly. And other things like that, meant to ensure that it was all accessible.


    Obviously, we didn''t need any of that. And we were trying to make sure we didn''t prevent any of the actual patients from using what they wanted. At the moment, all three of us were over by one of those games where you threw a bunch of basketballs through a hoop at the end of a ramp that was angled so they would roll back down to you.


    ¡°Okay, Booster and Bubbles,¡± Simon was saying while rolling one of the balls between his hands. ¡°Let me show you how this is done. Please, hold all your applause until the end. I wouldn''t want you to get a hand cramp by starting the second you''re amazed.¡±


    Bubbles. That was what he had started calling Izzy. I hadn''t known what that was about, until she admitted that she had been trying to help by cleaning our bathroom and accidentally turned on the shower before knocking about half a dozen bottles of shampoo, body wash, and bubble bath into the tub. Just like that, she had been getting soaked, with bubbles filling up the entire place. Poor Izzy had been taken so much by surprise that she''d completely forgotten, just for a moment, to use her power.


    Simon had been drawn by the commotion, and found Izzy, fully-dressed, with various buckets of cleaning fluid sitting by a tub that was full of an assortment of brightly colored and sweet smelling bubbles while she was being thoroughly soaked by the shower.


    Yeah, no wonder he had decided to call her Bubbles. As for Izzy, she blushed whenever he said it, but not in a bad way. It didn''t offend her. No, quite contrary. She seemed happy. She was happy that he cared enough to give her a nickname. She was happy that he cared enough to tease her.


    Yeah, it was all very complicated, that was for sure.


    Izzy and I both watched while Simon began sinking basket after basket. If he was worried about showing off too much, he didn''t show it at all. Despite taking almost no time to aim, he made every shot except for one. The steady swish of the net being hit by the ball going through it filled the air. In the end, he scored fifty points and gave a slight look toward us while asking, ¡°who wants to try to beat that? I could use a good laugh right now.¡±


    I knew what he was doing, and it wasn''t actually just about distracting himself. He wanted to distract both of us too, so we wouldn''t sit there and obsess over the whole situation for hours. Well, at least not as much as we would have without the distraction, anyway. He knew for a fact that I couldn''t resist that sort of challenge, and that I would keep trying over and over again no matter how many times I failed to make all the shots that he did.


    Well the joke was on him, I couldn''t let myself be as competitive as I wanted to be, because he might have a few questions if I actually shot the ball as well as I was capable of. If it came down to it, he and I could probably sit here all night trading shots and trying to one-up each other. So no, tempting as it was to show up my brother by making every single shot, including the one he had missed, I had to restrain myself. Without looking like I was restraining myself.


    To that end, I made a big show of taking the ball from him and insisting that when I made every shot, he was going to learn to shut up. Then I proceeded to carefully fail at beating him. I missed two shots to his one. Okay, yes, I could have missed more and made it even safer, but I was still pretty competitive. I could only suppress it so much.


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    While Izzy was practicing her shots, Simon and I stepped away to watch a couple guys who looked like they basically lived here in the hospital full time. They were playing air hockey, and were both really good. They also played up the trash talk against one another when they realized they had an audience. Of course, Simon and I each picked one of them to cheer for, and fell into an easy rhythm of teasing each other about our choices. It was all just fun ribbing, and I almost couldn''t believe how casual it felt. It was like old times, before I knew everything about our family. And especially before this whole thing with Sleeptalk had gone down. Were we both just feeling better about the whole situation now that we seemed to be in the homestretch? Was I so relieved about the idea that my parents would be awake soon that I was able to push all my complicated feelings away for the time being?


    I wasn''t sure, and honestly, right then I didn''t think it actually mattered. I could deal with all that later. Right now, I was here with my brother and sister, and we were going to have our parents back soon. Even if I did really wish that we had a better definition of soon.


    Eventually, Izzy came to join us, and we continued cheering on the air hockey players until they had to leave. Then the three of us played the Ninja Turtles arcade game together for a while before being joined by this kid in a wheelchair who proceeded to show us a bunch of secrets we never knew about. Which was pretty impressive, considering we had the same game back home. He¡¯d managed to find secrets we never did.


    Once the boy, whose name was Luke, headed off to play something else, we were trying to decide if we should eat something or wait longer. While we were in the midst of that discussion, the sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention over to where a very familiar, very small figure was perched on one of the nearby arcade cabinets. Yup, Lucent was right there, staring at us with his little dark bird eyes. ¡°Well!¡± he started in a cheerful tone, ¡°what a pleasure it is to see the children of such illustrious members of our community! And on such an auspicious and hopeful occasion as well.¡±


    Oh God, it was so hard not to blurt out ¡®Papa¡¯ right then. Probably because I¡¯d only ever interacted with Lucent while I was Paintball, so seeing him as Cassidy was screwing me up a bit. It made me fumble my words, my mouth opening to say something before realizing who I was supposed to be right then just in time to catch myself. Fortunately, Simon just laughed at me and took it as me being tongue tied by meeting Lucent for the first time. He teased me about that, of course, before greeting the bird TONI in a way that made it clear they had spoken before. And yes, that did make my subconscious briefly go into a paranoid spin about whether Lucent knew about the Ministry or not. If he was close enough to Simon to have that sort of relationship, it was possible. But then again, Simon did stuff for our parents outside of the whole criminal organization thing, so maybe he had just visited this place often enough to be recognized.


    Pushing all that out of my mind, I extended my hand with a couple fingers out so I could shake Lucent¡¯s talon. As I did that, Simon gestured. ¡°Yeah, so these are my sisters. Izzy and Cassidy. You''ll be able to tell them apart because Cassidy is the one who is going to start ending up here because she won''t stop skating off the top of buildings.¡±


    A blush touched my face as I instinctively murmured the correction, ¡°They.¡±


    That made both Lucent and Simon look at me, as I realized what I had said. More importantly, I realized I had yet to have that conversation with my brother. My head shook, and I mumbled that it didn''t matter. Then I focused on talking to the bird TONI. It really was a very different feeling to be having a whole conversation with him as Cassidy instead of Paintball. And even as that thought occurred to me, I realized something else. In neither of those comparisons, Paintball or Cassidy, did I think of either as purely myself and the other as simply a name. They were both parts of who I was. They were each pieces of the full me. Sometimes it felt as though Paintball was more me than Cassidy, but other times I was definitely more Cassidy than Paintball. Neither was the full person, they were parts that I put forward. I couldn''t show everything I knew or could do as Cassidy, so when I was that person, my civilian self, I wasn''t showing the entirety of who and what I was. And when I was Paintball, no one could know things about my life as Cassidy.


    Yeah, I was definitely overcomplicating it. This was getting stupid. What did any of that matter? Basically every Touched who didn''t have a public identity kept parts of themselves in separate categories. That was just how it was.


    Lucent was just as charismatic and caring as ever, making a point of talking to me about both school and skating. He made several jokes about how terrible he had been while trying to ride a skateboard the other day, and I told him what he needed was someone who could make rollerblades in his size. It was so easy to fall into casual conversation with him that I saw Lucent give me a couple curious looks up now and then. Which, of course, threatened to make me break out into paranoia-hives. But no, I had to calm down. He wasn''t realizing I was Paintball. He was just thinking that it was interesting that someone who had never really interacted with a TONI, as far as he knew, was so casual about it. which made me rethink the entire conversation and wonder if I should have been more awkward. But it was too late now. If I acted differently, it would just come off like I was overcompensating or something.


    Eventually, Lucent offered his apologies that he couldn''t stay longer, and wished us luck in waiting for our parents to wake up. He assured Izzy and me that they were under the best possible care, and that the medicine they were given had been tested as best as it could be. When he said that, I caught something in his voice. It seemed like he might have disagreed with the cure being given to them already. Did he want more time to be taken to test it? Was that what he objected to? Or did he object that they were being given a couple of the first doses, ahead of almost everyone else?


    I wasn''t sure, and he didn''t exactly linger on that. Even as the thought occurred to me, he was already flying off through the open doorway. Once he was gone, Simon shrugged. ¡°Well, that was cool. Even if being around that guy isn''t really a big deal for some of us.¡±


    That time, I caught my own paranoia before it even fully manifested. He wasn''t talking about me. He meant Izzy as Raindrop. She blushed and shook her head quickly, mumbling something about how it was always fun to be around Lucent.


    We went to the cafeteria then to eat, since there still wasn''t any word about our parents one way or the other. I knew they weren''t going to contact us the very instant Mom or Dad (or both) seemed somewhat coherent. They would walk them through a series of tests to make sure they knew where they were, who they were, and everything else first. Even after the medicine seemed to work, it would be a little while before they let us know. Still, I couldn''t help feeling anxious about the whole thing. It had already been several hours, how much longer was it going to take?


    I had no idea. But what I did know was that the hospital here served very good food. I had thought that I wouldn''t be able to eat anything, but it turned out I was kind of starving. As soon as the food was in front of me, I scarfed it down like a person who hadn''t touched a meal in a week. I had to go back for seconds before I even slowed down somewhat.


    Simon was watching me with a raised eyebrow, audibly chuckling. ¡°Don''t tell me you started some sort of starvation diet. Wasn''t there something about people thinking that being hungry could help you study more? You better not be that stupid.¡±


    My head shook. ¡°No, I am stupid in completely different ways. Right now, I''m just hungry, I guess. Besides, do you really want to get into a competition about who tried the dumbest tricks while studying? I still remember that time one of your idiot friends convinced you that eating peanut brittle was good for the memory, so you ate so much of it you threw up all over your test.¡±


    Izzy snickered at that, and I ducked away from Simon¡¯s lazy swat before sticking my tongue out at him.


    Before we could say anything else, all three of us were interrupted by the sound of a tall, blond man in a doctor''s coat as he stepped up to the table. ¡°Excuse me, I think you''ll want to come with me.


    ¡°Your parents are awake, and they''d like to see all of you.¡±

 Learning Lessons 31-20

    Was it strange that I felt more nervous and apprehensive about the entire situation with my parents while riding the elevator up to see them now that they were awake than I had felt basically at any other point while they were under the influence of Sleeptalk? All of my fears should have evaporated the moment we were told they had woken up and wanted to see us. It was over. They were safe. The cure had worked. So why did I feel a hard knot in my stomach the entire time we were heading up to their room? Was it just because I was convinced something bad would happen to stop this from being a happy ending? Was I anxious about what was going to happen once they were back on their feet? Was I worried about what sort of side effects there might be to this whole thing?


    Yes. The answer to every single question was yes. I was worried about any number of things. And apparently my subconscious had decided that it wasn''t going to let itself simply be relieved right now. Instead, it kept poking me about various potential problems and catastrophes. Some were quite possible, like the idea that there could be lingering side effects that would make my parents not quite as much like themselves as they had been. Some were slightly less so, like the idea that Cu¨¦lebre would come diving out of the sky, crash through the roof of the building, and destroy everything while screaming something about not listening to the Ministry anymore.


    Yes, my subconscious had some time on its hands, apparently. And a lot of motivation to come up with doom scenarios. But I firmly shoved those thoughts away so I could focus on what was actually happening right now. Whatever else came from this, we would deal with it. Maybe things would be perfect. Maybe there would be a long road to our parents fully recovering. But whatever it took, however long we had to deal with the effects of that vile shit, it was better than the alternative. It was better than losing them entirely. I could deal with whatever else came. Even if what came was more complications from the Ministry.


    As that thought passed through my mind, the elevator dinged and our doctor escort stepped off before gesturing for us to follow. Once again, my parents were in a private room on an extra-secure level. They weren''t going to take any chances at all of something going wrong. Not when they were this close to being done with this entire situation.


    The three of us followed the doctor off the elevator and down the hallway. There were a couple armed guards standing by the entrance into that wing, and another couple further in. Damn, I had said they weren''t taking any chances, but this was beyond even what I had assumed. Clearly I wasn''t the only one who was being paranoid right now. Not that I objected to that. I was just glad they actually seemed to be taking the security for this seriously.


    If I hadn''t been paying so much attention, if I had truly been so distracted by thoughts of my parents, I probably wouldn''t have noticed when Simon gave a nod to one of the guards. It wasn''t a simple nod of acknowledgment between near strangers passing one another. No, this was the nod of a superior telling a subordinate he was doing a good job. Simon was telling this guard, with that simple nod, that he was pleased with what the man had been doing. He was this guy''s boss. Which meant the guy worked for the Ministry. Which also wasn''t surprising. To be honest, I was just kind of assuming that everyone who had any contact at all with my parents around here worked for the Ministry. The guards, the doctors, nurses, anyone with real access was almost certainly at the very least thoroughly compromised by my family¡¯s organization.


    Our escort had to input a code next to a heavily reinforced door at the end of that hallway, and then let it scan his eyes. It opened with a whoosh of air, and we went through. I exchanged a glance with Izzy. We could both see the apprehension, hope, and many other conflicting feelings passing over our faces. I gave her a little smile, trying to reassure her before taking the girl¡¯s hand.


    With Simon walking ahead of us, we passed through that door. It didn¡¯t lead directly into our parents¡¯ room. Instead, we were in a long white hallway with doors on either side. The doctor leading us went to one of those doors and knocked. It was opened by a nurse, and the two held a whispered conversation before she smiled at us and stepped out. The door was held open, and the doctor told us to go ahead. He also warned us not to be too rough with them, and to alert medical staff if they ever seemed confused about where or who they were, or started talking about things that didn''t make any sense. I was going to assume that we should also probably tell them if our parents fell down and started snoring.


    That was the thought that passed through my mind as I walked up to that open door and then stepped through. And it was the last thought I had before seeing both of my parents. The room was probably nice. It was probably incredibly, obscenely ornate and expensive. It probably made literal hotel honeymoon suites look like prison cells. But I didn''t see any of that. I didn''t see anything else about the room. All I saw, in that moment, was my parents standing in front of the window, looking out at the city. They were standing up, holding hands, looking out at the city and very clearly no longer affected by Sleeptalk. They were safe. They were awake. They were okay.


    They were my mom and dad.


    A noise escaped me, a noise I couldn''t put any word or meaning to. It was pure emotion and nothing more. Emotion that erupted from my gut, pushed its way up my throat, and filled the room. It was a guttural noise that came just as I sprinted several steps forward and threw myself across the rest of the distance. Dad managed to open his arms and catch me as I flung myself into him. He made his own noise of emotion and pulled me up close to his chest, hugging me tight with one arm. Mom was there too, closing in around me. She reached out, taking hold of Izzy, who had been a few steps behind. Dad''s other arm found my little sister and lifted her up as well. He was able to pick both of us up, one in each arm. Mom was there on the other side, and Simon came up behind Izzy and me to hug Mom from that side while his other hand moved to grab Dad¡¯s shoulder.


    We were all crushed together in that hug. Izzy and I were in the middle between the other three. I didn''t care about anything else. Right then, for that moment, none of the other shit mattered. I would deal with it when the time came. For now, it was enough just to be right here with my family.


    None of us even said anything at first. No one knew what to say. Eventually, we found ourselves sitting down. Dad was in a chair, I was perched on the arm of the chair so I could hold onto his shoulder, Izzy was sitting on his knee. Mom had another chair pulled up very close on that side so she could rub Izzy¡¯s back. And Simon was sitting in a third chair next to Mom, their hands clasped. But I had seen a momentary look past between my parents and my brother, where he finally made it clear that they had things to talk about. But Mom and Dad had both equally silently informed him that it could wait a few minutes. They didn''t want a report from their lieutenant. They wanted their son to be there with them right now. Simon seemed perfectly okay with that. Even then, I could see how a visible weight had come off his shoulders the moment that we walked through the door and found our parents standing there. I was pretty sure that, like me, he had been partially convinced that something awful was going to happen before we could actually get to them. Maybe paranoia ran in the family.


    Mom found her voice first once we had settled in. ¡°They told us that things have been rather eventful while we were sick.¡± She paused before that last word, clearly taking a moment before deciding exactly what to call their situation. ¡°Your father and I are both so sorry we weren''t there to help you all with that. You shouldn''t have been alone with all that happening.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    My head shook as I reached across Dad to touch the hand she was using to rub Izzy''s back. ¡°We weren''t alone, Mom. There''s like fifty people who work at home, remember? We''ve got an entire security force patrolling our back yard. We were fine. We¡¯re the least-alone teenagers in the city. You¡¯re the ones who were in trouble. I mean, I''m sorry you were-- I mean--¡± Damn it, what was I supposed to say? It wasn''t like I could apologize for contributing to the fact that Sleeptalk had happened in the first place. My plan, well, the plan Paige and I had come up with, had sent Irelyn out of the city. That led directly to her ending up on Breakwater. And then we had helped make sure she and Trivial were brought back here. That had put my parents in the exact situation they needed to be to get hit by Sleeptalk. Yes, they could''ve been hit at another time. It had been the Banners who were turned into human bombs to set that stuff off, and they could have done that at any point. I was pretty sure it wouldn''t be impossible for the second-richest family in the city to get my parents in a building together. Still, that didn¡¯t change the fact that the way it had gone down was specifically because of what we did with Irelyn.


    But, of course, I couldn''t get into any of that. I couldn''t tell my parents why I felt guilty. So the words caught in my throat for a moment before I simply offered a weak, ¡°We''re just glad you''re okay.¡± God, that was so pathetically inadequate. It didn''t come close to expressing what I wanted to say. I couldn''t find the right words to tell them how I felt, to tell them how much I missed them. I wasn''t even sure I knew those sorts of words.


    But what I couldn''t express through my voice, I did by simply leaning in to hug my dad once more. I felt his arm down around me, and heard his soft intake of breath. It sounded like he was having trouble expressing himself too.


    We talked more about what had happened. At least, the stuff that I was supposed to know about. I had no doubt that our parents would be having a very long, much more in-depth discussion with Simon as soon as they had a little alone time with him. But for now, we kept all of it to very public knowledge. Mom and Dad were especially worried about the effect the quarantine was having on the city. Both on the morale of everyone who lived here, and on the supply situation. That led to Dad talking about some very technical situation with trade and supply lines. But mostly I was just holding my mother¡¯s hand and smiling like a doofus. Finally, she cleared her throat and gently told Dad to rein it in a little and be here with the family. All the other business-related discussions could wait until later. She made her voice very firm on that point, and I knew she meant anything to do with the Ministry as well as their more legal business. They may have had a lot to deal with on both fronts, but she wasn''t going to let that interrupt or take over things right now.


    Dad didn''t have to be told twice. He immediately stopped talking about anything financial. Instead, he moved his hand to touch the side of my face, brushing his fingers down it in a soft, gentle gesture. His voice was quiet. ¡°My beautiful girl.¡±


    I felt fingers touch my arm, and turned to see Simon looking at me. Our gazes met, and he looked indecisive for a moment before silently mouthing, ¡°It''s okay, you can tell them.¡±


    Well, that sent a surge of panic through me. My heart tried to leap out of my chest briefly. Told him what? Did he know I was Paintball? Did he know that I knew about the Ministry? Had he known this whole time? Was he telling me to bring it up now while they were in this sort of mood because that would be the best time to avoid problems? How had he figured it out? What had I said that gave it away? If I didn''t bring it up, was he going to do it on his own? Was this some sort of threat? Was he telling me that he was giving me a chance to tell the truth before he did? Was this entire reunion about to become something much more serious just because I had somehow managed to give away my secrets? What the hell had I done? How did he figure it out? What did I do wrong!?


    All of that flashed through my mind in just a couple seconds. Simon must''ve seen the look on my face, because he winced a little as though worried about how he had brought it up. While our parents were distracted talking to Izzy, he hesitated before leaning in to whisper almost silently in my ear. ¡°You can tell them about the gender thing if you want.¡±


    Wait, that''s what he had been talking about? I hadn''t even had that discussion with him. I hadn''t actually acknowledged it at all. There had just been that slight moment back in the cafeteria when I had muttered that correction. But I hadn''t explained what I meant. Had my brother actually picked up on that by himself? And now, he had encouraged me to talk about it without actually forcing the issue. He had intentionally kept quiet so that if I chose not to talk about it, I didn''t have to.


    Sometimes, my brother was pretty cool. When he wasn''t being a gross, obnoxious jerk who also happened to occasionally kill people and (temporarily) help criminals who had murdered my friend¡¯s brother. Even if he had always planned on leading that guy to his death. Which, see ¡®happened to occasionally kill people.¡¯


    I took a breath and let it out, working that through my head. Mom, noticing, looked over at me before reaching out to touch my face. ¡°Are you all right, Principessa? Our beautiful, wonderful girl.¡±


    Well, I wasn¡¯t going to get a better opening than that. Wincing a little at how this could go, I squirmed before squaring my shoulders. "Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something about myself. Maybe this is the wrong time to bring it up. Maybe it should wait a few days, or weeks.¡± I trailed off, thinking about that possibility. Was this really the right time to be talking about this? They had just woken up. We were all together for the first time in weeks. Should I even say anything?


    But I saw their expressions. And I saw the reassuring looks from both Simon and Izzy. So, I pressed on. Bracing myself, I told my parents how I felt. I told them that I didn''t always feel like a girl. I told them that sometimes I felt more masculine, or even like neither. I told them I wasn''t just a girl, that I wasn''t always a girl. I told them that I was fluid. Sometimes I was more like a boy, and other times I was more like a girl. I told them that I had started recording myself that way, that I was going by they/them instead of she/her.


    Obviously, I didn''t get into everything that had led to this realization. I couldn''t exactly tell my parents that I remembered having all these thoughts before they had my memory erased. That would''ve been a whole different can of worms. Or rather, a paper bag full of rattlesnakes. I simply told them how I felt right then, that I needed to explore a bit more about who and what I was, but for the moment, I wanted to be seen as I truly was.


    There was a moment of silence once I nervously finished, before Mom set her hand down to take mine and interlaced our fingers. Her voice was gentle. ¡°Cassidy, no matter what you are, no matter what you wish to be called, you will always be our child. Sometimes you are our beautiful girl. Others you may be our handsome young boy. We love every version of you, whenever and however they come to us. I have adored you from the moment the doctor told me that you were a part of me, and that was before we knew what form you would grow into. I loved you when you were the size of my pinkie.¡± She held that up for me to see as though to illustrate, before touching that pinkie to my nose. ¡°I have loved you since before anyone made the slightest guess what you would be, because the only thing that matters is that you are our child.¡±


    Dad took my other hand and moved it up so I could touch his face, smiling softly at the feel of my fingers there. ¡°Whether you are my son, my daughter, or anything in between, I love you with everything that I am. I will call you by any name or term you wish. I want you to be happy. I want you to feel safe. You are our child, always and forever.¡±


    I tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat, but it wouldn''t go down. I just ended up making a soft, pathetic little noise before leaning in to hug each of them as tightly as I could, one after the other. I let everything else go for that moment. None of the other stuff mattered. All of it could wait. For right now, the only truth in the world was that my parents were safe.


    And they accepted me.

 Patreon Snippets 26

    Non-Canon - Cassidy-As-Paintball takes Simon-as-Squire for a motorcycle ride.


    Throughout her attempt to stop Murphy from doing something she would probably regret in the wake of her brother¡¯s death, while also bringing that murderer to justice, Cassidy had expected to do plenty of fighting. That wasn''t a surprise. What was surprising, however, was running into her brother in the process. He might have been disguised, but she knew him. And she knew that if he was there, it meant the Ministry was protecting this piece of shit.


    If Simon was here, he was going to help that guy escape. Or Murphy was going to kill the guy. Or kill Simon. Or Simon would kill her. There were a lot of bad options. Too many. Cassidy couldn''t let any of that happen. But what was she supposed to do?


    From the corner of her eyes, she spotted a possible solution, even as they were facing off. But it would require her to leave Murphy with a man she definitely wanted to kill. If she did that¡­ it was her choice. She just had to hope the girl made the right one.


    ¡°Tie him up for the cops!¡± she called that way. That immediately made all three of the others, Murphy, the man in question, and Simon, all start talking at once. But she ignored them and sent shots of red paint in two different directions. The first hit her brother and yanked him toward her red-painted glove. He was pulled that way with a yelped curse.


    The other shot red hit the seat of a motorcycle parked next to the building with the keys in the ignition. Even as Simon was pulled toward her, Cassidy pulled herself toward that. She landed on the bike, then canceled the paint on her brother. As he staggered to a confused halt, she got the bike started and immediately revved the engine.


    Simon, who had been yanked very close to the bike, had time to look down in confusion as he was left standing behind it as the thing started up. Then a new shot of red hit his chest while another appeared on Cassidy''s (or Paintball¡¯s from his perspective) back. With a new curse, he was yanked off the ground and flew through the air to land fully on the back of the motorcycle with his chest held tight against her back by the paint. His arms were flailing wildly as he blurted a reflexive, ¡°What the hell do you think you''re doing?!¡±


    Cassidy--Paintball, she had to think of herself as Paintball now. With her brother this close, she had to turn all those thoughts off just be the boy called Paintball, not Cassidy-- gave a quick shake of her--his head. ¡°Boy, if you think you''re freaking out now, just wait.¡±


    Just to be on the safe side, he hit both of Simon¡¯s legs and the sides of the bike with more red paint so they were yanked together to keep him seated there.


    As though only realizing exactly where he was right in that moment, the boy looked down at his painted legs, then up and snapped a quick, ¡°Oh, don''t you even think about--¡±


    ¡°Deal!¡± Paintball snapped back before joining the throttle. Just like that, the motorcycle took off out of the parking lot with Simon trapped on the back. ¡°No thinking going on here!¡± And just like that, the motorcycle was shooting out the side entrance of the parking lot and onto the road beyond.


    ¡°Might wanna lean the directions I call out!¡± Paintball shouted over the sound of the engine. ¡°I''m not sure wrecking at this speed is recommended!¡±


    ¡°Stop the bike!¡± Simon shouted right back. ¡°You really don''t wanna pick a fight with us!¡±


    Rather than respond to that immediately, Paintball called, ¡°Left!¡± With that, he shoved himself that way, with Simon following suit a moment later as the bike took a sharp turn. ¡°And to be totally real with you, I¡¯m gonna take a wild guess that you guys are the ones who don''t wanna start a fight with me!¡±


    Even as he said that, Paintball was renewing the red to keep Simon in place. They were heading through an intersection, weaving around several cars in the process. ¡°Or at least, you don''t wanna start a fight with me over that Luciano prick! Right!¡±


    Just like that, the bike skidded along the road on a sharp turn that would have been impossible normally. But Paintball wasn''t relying solely on their combined body weight. He also hit the nearby building with red paint, along with part of the bike, yanking the front end that way to help get the whole thing to turn almost ninety degrees in an instant. All without slowing down. Suddenly, the motorcycle was aimed at an open gate on the edge of the sidewalk, leading to a set of concrete stairs heading downward to a lower street. Well, to be precise, the concrete stairs went down about halfway, then turned ninety degrees before continuing the rest of the way.


    Simon had enough time to see the narrow opening, just wide enough for the bike itself, before they were suddenly shooting forward. Not only did Paintball not stop to consider the ramifications of what they were doing, he actually gunned it, sending the motorcycle straight through the opening and down the stairs with a series of heavy thumps as the wheels hit every step.


    ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck is wrong with--¡±


    That was as far as Simon got. Because while the steps themselves might have turned, Paintball didn''t. Instead, he triggered the green paint he had put on the bike, boosting their speed even more just as they near the end of the steps. There was a metal fence blocking a steep dropoff there, with the hard pavement waiting over twenty feet down. But just before they would have hit that fence, he sent a puddle of blue on the very edge of the sidewalk. As the bike hit it at that speed, they were launched up and over the fence, easily clearing it.


    Not only did they clear the fence, in fact, but the motorcycle rocketed all the way over to the roof of a building on that lower street. They came down right on the edge of it, tires barely finding enough purchase for the bike to scream its way across that building. Just before they would have launched off the opposite side, Paintball called, ¡°Left!¡± and sent the thing into another sharp ninety degree turn. A turn that pointed them at another roof within a certain number of feet. That number was entirely too high as far as Simon was concerned. And for Paintball, it was, ¡°Eh, close enough.¡±


    ¡°Close enough!? What the fuck do you mean, close en--¡± That was as far as Simon got before his words became a strangled cry as the motorcycle hit a blue puddle and launched itself into the air. Their speed and momentum was barely enough to cross the gap, landing on the other roof.


    Unfortunately, the building was shaped like a rectangle, and they were crossing the narrow part of it, not the wide part. Which meant the other side of that roof was frighteningly close, within about a hundred feet, and they were going fast enough to cross that in a couple seconds. But Paintball was ready for that. He had already slapped red paint on the side of the bike near the front, and had hit the other part of the roof to their left with more of that red as they made the jump. The second before the bike landed, he activated that paint so the bike was yanked around. It came down, tires squealing in protest as the thing was jerked to the left. Even then, their speed carried them within about a foot of the opposite side of the building before it managed to get pointed in the right direction and speed off along the long part of the roof.


    Simon, for his part, hadn¡¯t stopped his wordless shout since they hit the puddle. Though he did, in that moment, manage a snapped, ¡°You¡¯re like twelve, you don¡¯t even have a driver¡¯s license!¡±


    ¡°Turn me into the cops then!¡± Paintball called over his shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve got enough of them in your pocket! Or just hang on!¡±


    That last bit came as they neared the end of the roof from that direction. A second later, they went shooting off it and down toward the parking lot below. Except there was a semi-truck heading straight toward them, coming from the opposite direction on its way to the building itself. Just before they would have been annihilated by the truck by landing directly in its path, Paintball activated the yellow paint he¡¯d covered them with. The speed of their fall immediately slowed just enough for the bike to land on top of the trailer rather than directly in front of the truck. He canceled the paint right after that, sending the bike along the roof of the trailer while it was pulling away from them in the other direction. They shot off the opposite end a second later, with orange paint on the bike helping hold the thing together as it came down hard on the pavement.


    Without giving Simon even a second to collect himself, Paintball sent the bike straight into oncoming traffic down a one-way street. Cars were blaring their horns as he weaved the motorcycle between them, from one side of the street to the other. ¡°See, I don''t think the Ministry is gonna care all that much about me taking you for a trip! I''m guessing you''re only fulfilling a contract with that prick! You had to try to help him, but what I''m doing right now is giving you plausible deniability! You can blame me for not living up to your part of the bargain! I don¡¯t mind if people like that hate me!¡±


    Even as he said that, Paintball continued to boost the bike¡¯s speed as much as he could. They went screaming through the streets (literally and figuratively, since Simon kept forgetting how to shut up), taking one hard turn after another, using red paint and blue to get around obstacles. The whole world was a blur. Simon could barely hang on tight enough to avoid being thrown from the bike as they weaved dangerously between cars and through narrow alleys.


    Finally, Paintball brought the bike to a halt in an unused parking lot. Once his passenger realized they were actually stopping for good, he added a flat, ¡°If I''m wrong, you could try to shoot me.¡±


    Simon did not shoot. He slowly stepped off the bike, wobbling a little. ¡°You¡¯re the second-most absurd driver I''ve ever seen, kid. And if my sister had your powers, she''d probably be even worse.¡± He paused then before adding, ¡°Anyway, I didn¡¯t take you for someone who would just let your little friend kill someone.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m hoping she didn''t,¡± Paintball replied quietly. ¡°But you and your people forced me to let her make that choice for herself. Now if you excuse me, I have to go see if I was right.¡±


    With that, he turned the bike around and took off again, leaving Simon where he was. The young man stood there, relatively stoic though wobbling a little until Paintball was out of sight.


    Then he took three quick steps to the corner, collapsed to his knees, and threw up.


    *******


    Non-Canon - Four Different Versions Of Cassidy (Ficheur and Votary from established non-canons, Graffiti from the original planned path of the story who had a much more antagonistic relationship with their family, and canon Paintball) meet.


    Something went wrong. Of course, Cassidy had been at least half-expecting that. They were, after all, attempting to transport Pittman all the way from Breakwater to Detroit. There were bound to be complications. And once the machine had started making that unhappy noise, it had been obvious that things weren''t going according to plan.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Even then, however, they didn''t expect to find themself standing in a completely different place. The machine was supposed to transport Pittman to them. If it messed up, it should have dropped him somewhere, not sent them somewhere else.


    For the briefest of moments as their surroundings abruptly changed, Cassidy was afraid the transport had been reversed and that they had ended up on the island. That would be bad for too many reasons to count within the time they would be able to stay alive. Which itself was one of the reasons.


    But no, they definitely weren''t on an island. They weren''t in a forest or jungle. They were standing on top of a skyscraper in the middle of the city. Actually, they were still in Detroit. In fact, they might be able to see the building where their dad¡¯s main office was if they turned just--


    They weren''t alone on the roof. Cassidy realized that just as they turned to look that way and found themself staring at three other figures, who were all staring back at them. Three figures with different clothes, but the same face.


    Their face. Cassidy was staring at three figures who all looked exactly like them. And if being transported to this random building had taken them by surprise, finding themself staring up at three more versions of them was enough to make their brain completely shut off for a second. They just stood there and stared, open-mouthed under the helmet and mask.


    ¡°Oh hey look, another one,¡± one of the people with their face snapped. Besides having Cassidy''s face, they wore a red jacket over a white shirt that was textured to look like chain mail, along with black cargo pants, running shoes, and gloves. A red metal helmet or large enough to cover their entire head, with a black visor, and hung loosely from one of their hands. ¡°At least, I¡¯m assuming that''s another one of us.¡±


    ¡°Same height, same build, costume¡¯s covered in paint like mine,¡± announced another of the lookalikes, ¡°Definitely one of us.¡± This one was wearing loose-fitting track pants, the same skate-shoes as Cassidy--as Paintball, a long-sleeved shirt with a bandolier of what looked like vials of different colored liquids, and some sort of light raincoat. And, as they had noted, all of their clothes were covered in random bits of paint. There were splotches of color alongside actual drawings and words seemingly at random. ¡°Or they want us to think they are.¡±


    ¡°This is sweet!¡± That was the third of the lookalikes. This one didn''t appear to have any costume at all. They were standing there in what looked like an ordinary pair of pants, boots, and a button-up shirt along with a simple leather jacket. The only things that stood out at all were the two metal bracelets on their wrists. ¡°At this rate, we could make up our own band. Or a super team. Yeah, that''s probably more on brand, isn''t it? Do you think Fantastic Four is taken around here?¡±


    Finally, Paintball found their voice, blurting, ¡°What the hell?!¡±


    The lookalike who wore the red jacket and held the metal helmet gave them a sympathetic look. ¡°Dude, don''t feel bad about being confused. Honestly, we''re only about ten minutes ahead of you. And look at it this way, if another one of us shows up, you''ll be ahead of them.¡±


    It was the one in the raincoat and bandolier of colorful vials who spoke next. ¡°What they''re trying to say is, take the helmet off so we can see what you look like. Or what you''re choosing to look like.¡±


    ¡°If you can''t tell,¡± the one who wasn''t wearing any costume noted, ¡°they¡¯re the paranoid one.¡±


    ¡°I''m the one that''s still alive,¡± that one snapped, ¡°Despite the best efforts of my entire family. So you''re gonna have to excuse me if I''m not willing to take chances on someone who keeps hiding behind that helmet. I''ve had a few too many close calls.¡±


    This was absurd. The idea that it could be a trap of some kind kept playing through Paintball''s head. But they couldn''t figure out what the point would be. If this was someone messing with them, it meant their identity was already known, so they were screwed anyway. So their only hope was that this was real and they were actually standing here with three other versions of themself.


    Reaching up, they took off the helmet, then the ski mask underneath. Holding both in one hand, they stared at the other three identical faces. ¡°I repeat, what the hell?¡±


    ¡°Ah, there we are,¡± the one in the red jacket noted while beaming. ¡°And is it just me, or do we keep looking better every time another one shows up?¡± While saying that, they walked in a circle around the figure in question.


    As for Paintball, the idea that they might have just been flirted with by a version of themself was enough to make them need to sit down. Or possibly run and jump off the roof without using any paint to spare themself.


    Before they could do either, the one without a costume cleared their throat. ¡°Right, let''s do this the quick way this time. We¡¯re all Cassidy Evans. I call myself Votary, that''s Ficheur in the red jacket, and the paranoid one is Graffiti. You are?¡±


    There was a brief pause while the one being addressed ran through a mental checklist of all the options and possibilities. Finally, they exhaled heavily. ¡°Paintball. And you''re all¡­ you''re really¡­¡±


    ¡°Alternate Cassidy Evans from other worlds,¡± Ficheur confirmed. ¡°Like Baldur, except we¡¯re physically meeting. And it looks like the three of us might have similar powers.¡± They nodded between themself, Graffiti, and Paintball. ¡°Unless you both just decided to cover your costumes with random bits of color for unrelated reasons. Which, you know, no judgment.¡±


    Giving Graffiti a brief look, while remembering what they had said about their family trying to kill them, Paintball flinched slightly before extending their hand. A bit of red paint hit a piece of wood that was lying nearby, before being yanked over to their red glove.


    Graffiti, in turn, made a blue star with a green outline appear under their feet. As it was activated, they were launched into a backwards flip that carried them a good twenty feet into the air before they flipped over and came down on top of an air conditioning unit, using orange on themself and the unit itself to avoid damage.


    ¡°So three of us with similar or identical powers, interesting,¡± Ficheur murmured. ¡°I wonder why that would happen. It feels like tripling up. Could be redundant if we¡¯re supposed to be doing something special.¡±


    ¡°In that case, guess I¡¯m just the unique one,¡± Votary noted with an almost feral smile. ¡°I could live with that.¡±


    Paintball quickly shook their head. ¡°Hang on, what do you mean, something special? What¡¯re you guys doing here? Why did you all show up now? Was this because of Trevithick¡¯s machine? Was this Pittman?¡±


    At the name Pittman, Votary literally growled. ¡°That piece of shit better not have anything to do with this if he knows what''s good for him. No matter what universe he''s from.¡±


    ¡°You do seem confused about something though,¡± Graffiti put in. Their tone had softened somewhat and they seemed to have eased up a bit once Paintball showed who they were and that they had the same powers. ¡°We''re pretty sure this world isn''t any of ours. We were all brought here. You showed up the same way we did, so it''s probably not yours either.¡±


    Yeah, Paintball really should have assumed something like that. Then again, they didn''t exactly have a lot of experience when it came to suddenly standing in front of three identical versions of themself. It was kind of taking a lot out of them just to avoid freaking out too much to be coherent in any way whatsoever.


    Before any of the physically identical Cassidies could say anything else, however, Graffiti quickly held up a hand for silence. They pointed toward the nearby roof access door and pantomimed running footsteps with their fingers to indicate that someone was coming. Immediately, the others raced that way, positioning themselves just out of sight on either side of the structure that held the door and the small stairwell beyond. Paintball found themself standing next to Votary, who gave a brief look that way before plucking a metal circlet from their pocket and touching it to their forehead. The band expanded into a full face-covering mask. At the same time, metal gloves expanded over their hands.


    They all heard the footsteps by then, as someone came jogging up the stairs. When the person reached the door and started to cautiously open it, Votary stepped right through the nearby wall. Paintball heard a yelp, and the figure came stumbling out as the other Cassidy (apparently) appeared right by the open door and grabbed their arm to give a solid yank.


    Soon, all four of the Cassidies surrounded the new figure. Paintball had put their mask and helmet back on, Votary had that metal mask, Graffiti wore some sort of cowl that was attached to their costume neck and covered everything aside from their mouth, and Ficheur had put on that red helmet with the black visor over the eyes.


    The quartet surrounded the newcomer, with Ficheur demanding, ¡°Okay, whoever you are. You were obviously in a pretty big hurry to get up here and find us, so maybe you can explain just what the hell is going on and why we¡¯ve got four versions of ourselves standing on this building right now.¡±


    ¡°Also tell us who the hell you are,¡± Graffiti put in.


    ¡°I¡¯d love to,¡± came the muffled response, before the figure straightened up and looked around at all of them. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about why we brought you here, and why we need your help to stop Pittman and your grandfather.


    ¡°But first, thank God you guys are actually here. We had no idea if that would work or not,¡± a seventeen-year-old Anthony Tate informed them.


    ****************


    Caishen goes over reports at the end of the week


    Sitting in her office in the Ten Towers headquarters in Detroit, Natsuki Quinlan (better known to the public at large as Caishen) held a computer pad in one hand while tapping her way through it with the other. She was reading field reports from the past week. There were more than usual, given how much their group had to step up in the wake of the Sleeptalk effects and the resulting quarantine. She was proud of her people for all the extra work they¡¯d been doing. Between the established gangs trying to cause as much trouble as possible, others doing the best they could to become established, and the extra problems that kept popping up, there was plenty of overtime to go around. But her teams, Touched and Prev alike, were doing the best they could without too many complaints. They knew what the stakes were, and how easily the entire city could fall apart.


    Ephemera and Stick had submitted a report about several of the Touched from Braintrust, and their Prev minions, committing several seemingly unconnected robberies across town in the past few days. The things that were stolen (or attempted to be stolen) didn¡¯t seem to be connected at all. But when it came to Tech-Touched, it was often impossible to say what they might be using things for. With a few taps, she selected the various lists of materials and submitted it to the Ten Towers Techs in the hope that they might be able to explain just what the Braintrust people were trying to do.


    Meanwhile, another report from Linesight and the Prev squad he was running mentioned another unknown Touched who had apparently been starting fights amongst a group of minor gang members. The new Touched seemed to have some sort of physical boost ability allowing him to charge up for a brief time in order to carry out bursts of great speed and strength, along with generating and controlling metal spikes from his body. They didn¡¯t know his name yet, but it sounded like he had been trying to find the best fighters amongst those Prev gang members to recruit them.


    Bunglebotch was helping their new member, Rubi/Flurry, get up to speed with her training both physically and as far as paperwork went. She was also helping the new girl understand how to talk to the media, which was a whole thing in and of itself. Fortunately, Rubi seemed like a natural in more than one way. They were incredibly lucky to have snapped her up. And, well, she was just a really great woman all the way around. Natsuki was delighted to be able to give her and her siblings a chance at a better life.


    And the fact that there were so many more like them who would never get that chance simply because they didn¡¯t hit the lottery of gaining superpowers¡­ yes, maybe it was time to push the Board to step up their charitable giving.


    Finally, she glanced over her own sister¡¯s report. Even though she had already read it and knew what it would say ahead of time, this one was coded and only revealed the actual words once she allowed the pad to scan her face and gave a vocal password. Then she read the bit about Deicide. The Easy Eights leader had agreed to their deal, and would fake her death to create a new persona who could be recruited to aid them.


    Having someone like Deicide on their side, someone that strong¡­ Caishen was cautious about getting her hopes up, especially given everything that could go wrong. But right now, she was at least a little bit hopeful that they might have weathered the worst of what was being thrown at them and were coming out the other side into some good news.


    Which, of course, was the moment her phone buzzed. Seeing her sister¡¯s name on it, the woman frowned before answering. ¡°Tell me Deicide hasn¡¯t decided to back out.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± came the response, ¡°they haven¡¯t. But there¡¯s another complication. You should probably make sure you aren¡¯t around anyone important right now. It¡¯s going to make you curse.¡±


    She was right, of course. The news did make Natsuki curse, loud, long, and repeatedly.


    And she definitely didn¡¯t have time to read any more reports.

 Interlude 31A - Austen And Skip

    ¡°Are you quite certain about this choice?¡± As she asked that, the girl known as Skip stood in the middle of a small bridge that stretched across a creek in a park near the outskirts of the Detroit city limits. Most of the time, the park was filled with people. But the longer the situation with the quarantine had dragged on, the more people had stopped going out. Not because they didn''t want to, but the rising violence from gangs across the city, Touched and otherwise, made them afraid of being caught in the middle of a fight. Organized events that were bound to have actual security still attracted plenty of participants, but people were worried about going out by themselves. They stayed in large, brightly lit places with protection, like stores and theaters. Both of which had ramped up their own security efforts both to give people a place to go and buy things, and to avoid incurring all the damages rampaging criminals could inflict. The fact that people were digging into their savings to spend money at those places rather than going to places that didn''t have security, like the city park, also helped the decision to make sure the places had visible guards.


    In any case, parks like this barely had any visitors recently. Which meant Skip and her companion could stand on this secluded bridge and be assured of privacy. They were able to see the road leading up to the park in the distance, and there were no buildings nearby for people to look out of. Nor was the park near where other Touched would likely be traveling.


    Her question was met with an audible snort, as Austen Deleon, dressed as a civilian rather than in her paper armor, shook her head. Anyone who had looked at them likely wouldn''t have noticed anything all that strange anyway. It would simply look as though Skip, who was dressed in her usual costume, was having a conversation with a young girl around her own age. Still, even if it would have been quite a reach for anyone to guess what was actually going on, neither of them wanted to take any sort of extra risk. Not considering the sort of danger involved with this entire situation.


    ¡°I think it''s probably a little late to change my mind, isn''t it?¡± Austen pointed out flatly. ¡°Seems pretty hard to pull the brake cord after all the work you''ve gone through to set this up. Speaking of which, how many people know what''s actually going on?¡± She stopped looking at the road to turn and squint at the other girl. ¡°How many people are going to know this whole thing is complete bullshit?¡±


    In a flat tone, Skip replied, ¡°By which you mean how many people have the pieces to potentially put together your identity? As promised, only four people, including yourself and me, are aware of the switch that we are going to make. My sister is one, and an agent under our employ is another. He is the one who will be playing the part of Deicide¡¯s killer. I promise you, he can be trusted.¡±


    Those words were met with a disbelieving chuckle. Austen gave her a hard look. ¡°Let''s get this straight, I don''t trust anyone. No one but myself. If you depend on anybody else, they will fuck you over the second it''s convenient for them. My dad split and abandoned my mother and me. And if he hadn''t done that, my mom wouldn''t have¡­¡± She trailed off, biting her lip before turning back to look at the road once more. ¡°She wouldn''t have been taken in by that stupid fucking cult, I''ll tell you that much. You never knew what she used to be like. You didn''t know what kind of person she was before they got their claws in her. She was better. She was a better mother, a better everything. But she was weak. She was weak and she listened to them and they took advantage of her. They twisted her, they made her into one of them. Which was just another way of abandoning me. Things were tough, and she gave up and let a fucking cult change her entire personality. My dad took off, but at least he had the decency to physically leave. My mom was still standing right there, but she was completely checked the fuck out. She stood there and let them do all that bullshit. She could''ve stopped it, but she didn¡¯t. My dad is a piece of shit who ran away. He made my mom into what she was. But she''s not innocent either. She made choices. And so did I. I chose not to trust anyone else. I''m never giving someone that kind of power over me again. No one.¡±


    After getting all that out, Austen blanched and grabbed the nearby railing, squeezing it tightly. She hadn''t meant to say all that. She hadn''t even meant to get into the subject at all. It was just that this whole situation was suddenly much more real. It was happening. Which meant she was going to abandon this identity, this life, that she had built up for herself. She was going to abandon everything she had worked for ever since breaking out of that cult. That was the real issue here. Deicide was a person, a life, a purpose that she had built entirely by herself. After leaving the cult, after killing the man who had called himself Jesus, she had been alone for the first time in her life. She could have done anything, and her choice had been to create the character of Deicide. She took over the gangs, pulled them together, and put them toward the purpose of eventually killing her father. A purpose that had still not been fulfilled. Mostly thanks to the betrayal of several of her most important people. A betrayal that made her want to snap this railing off its hinges and beat them with it.


    The point was, abandoning this life meant something. It meant several things, actually. Including the fact that she was giving up on it. She was admitting that she had failed in her mission, at least as far as doing it this way went. She was admitting that everything she had worked for all this time was for nothing.


    She didn''t care about the resources being the leader of one of the biggest gangs in the city brought her, and she sure as hell didn''t care about the prestige her costume identity had. It had been the means to an end. An end that she was now admitting couldn''t be achieved that way. She was admitting she couldn''t do this alone.


    Well, of course she couldn''t do it alone. She had known that before. That was the entire point of putting the gang together and using criminals to attack her father¡¯s organization. But at the very least, she had been the only one who knew her reasoning. She had been the only one to know how and why she was actually targeting Cu¨¦lebre. And now she wasn''t. Now Skip knew the truth. As, apparently, did Caishen and their agent. Three more people who knew the truth, who knew that Austen had failed, and was walking away from that identity. The whole situation made her feel¡­ odd.


    Skip was quiet for a moment before speaking up. ¡°Your personal feelings about all of that, are they why you chose the location you did for this?¡±


    Austen released the railing and looked at her once more while opening and shutting her aching fingers, in pain from how tightly she had been squeezing that metal. ¡°You mean did I choose one of that cult¡¯s old safe houses for Deicide to get blown up in because it was some sort of symbolic thing?¡± She paused before offering a shrug. ¡°Yeah, probably. If the old compound had been within quarantine limits, I would have done it there. But this is good enough. It''s one of the houses they had the people they called missionaries stay in when they were in the city. Missionaries who walked around recruiting people into their bullshit. It''s the house my mother and I stayed in for a little while. Back when I was stupid enough to think things might actually be getting a little better. I liked them for the first couple days, when they were nice. When they were luring us in. Before they showed their real faces. So yeah, that place can go ahead and get blown up. Deicide was born in that cult, and she can die in it. Then I can be something else.¡± Something that might actually be able to do what she had set out to do, and kill her father.


    The two of them spent a little more time on that bridge, talking about the specifics of what they were going to do. It wasn''t actually all that hard. Austen was already accustomed to moving her empty armor around while pretending Deicide was in it. They were going to create a fake fight where Skip and Caishen¡¯s ''trusted agent¡¯ would supposedly crash an armored car that Deicide appeared to be attacking. With the supposed Deicide on the roof of the vehicle, it would crash into the targeted cult building, which was already empty.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    In truth, Skip would be the one driving, given she could render herself immune to the damage from the crash. The agent would be inside already, on the far side of the building. In the wake of the crash, Skip would teleport out, and he would emerge in her place. The man would escape the crash, shooting over his shoulder in what would appear to be a blind panic. One of his shots would hit gasoline from the damaged truck and blow it up with Deicide right on top of it.


    Some part of Austen did feel a little odd about the idea that the character she had created and built up would be killed off by something so mundane. But that was also the benefit of it. Something more dramatic, a big fight with other powerful Touched or the like, would have felt too staged. This, something that was just a random accident, was probably better in the end. For a certain definition of better, anyway. At the very least, it meant that she didn''t have to give credit for supposedly killing her to any Touched. It would simply be an anonymous guard as far as the public was concerned, who would insist on not being named in order to protect himself from anyone who might want to go after him for it.


    And that was how Deicide would die, after all these years. After everything she had done, the figure she had built up would be killed in an accidental explosion. Yes, it did feel a little anticlimactic, but that was for the best.


    Finally, it was time. The two began to head out to where the armored truck was already waiting for them. On the way through the park, however, Skip received a call from her agent, the one they were working with. She listened to his report, murmured something and then looked at Austen. ¡°There is a situation. The building you chose is not empty.¡±


    That made the other girl do a double-take, a frown jumping to her face. ¡°What the hell do you mean, it''s not empty? It was empty last night when I checked. If there''s some drifter in it or something, just have your man kick him out.¡±


    Skip shook her head. ¡°It''s not that simple. There''s a large, organized group there. They seem to know the place and are moving in.¡±


    That made Austen even more confused. At least for a moment. Then she was angry. Because, as far as she was concerned, there was only one possible reason that a whole group of people would move into that house and think they belong there. Members of the cult. The so-called Church Of The Lamb. She had thought there were none left around here. She had done a lot of work to make certain of that, actually. But if there were people moving into that place now, it had to mean they were back. They thought they could move right in again and start up with their bullshit while she was around? Her ¡®death¡¯ hadn''t even been completed yet, and they were already here trying to pick up where they had left off.


    Absolutely not. If the character of Deicide had to be killed off, then the last thing she was going to do was wiped out that fucking cult once and for all.


    Skip seemed to have come to the same conclusion about who it had to be, and started to say something. But Austen didn''t stick around to listen. A swarm of papers erupted from her pockets and arranged themselves around her to form her armor. Then she was in the air, commanding her armor to lift her up to fly that way. Leaving the other girl behind, she flew straight toward that building. Every single one of those deluded fucks was going to regret ever even hearing the name Church Of The Lamb, let alone actually showing up to that place.


    All other thoughts, all those other feelings that she''d had about what she was doing, came together into a single emotion of anger. Anger directed at the people who thought they could step right into that old building and keep the cult going. In that moment, nothing else mattered besides putting them down for good. She certainly wasn''t thinking about the plan. That could wait until she had dealt with these pathetic pieces of shit once and for all.


    Flying like that, it only took her a few minutes to reach the right area. Rather than following her anger-fueled instinct and flying straight through the wall, however, she stopped on top of a building across the street and landed there to look that way. No matter how righteously furious she was, barging into a situation she knew nothing about could have been disastrous. She would survey the place to see just what and who she was dealing with.


    At least, that was the plan. But as she perched on that roof and looked across the street, the first thing Austen saw were several people in robes carrying pallets of bottled water into the tall, somewhat secluded three-story house. The home had a large yard and tall fences all around it, affording it some measure of privacy from the nearby busy street. But from this position high above there, she could see a van full of supplies that were being unloaded. They really were moving right in. and those robes were just like what missionaries from the Church of the Lamb wore. It really was them. They really were moving right back in and trying to pick up where they had left off.


    With a sound of rage filling the back of her throat, Austen started to lift off. By the time she was done, there wouldn''t be a building standing down there anymore. That had already been the goal with the planned explosion, but this time she would do it all by herself. She would take that house down to its foundation and then burn the ashes. There would be nothing left.


    But before she could move, a hand touched the side of her armor. It was Skip, who spoke simply. ¡°It''s not them. They are not your old cult.¡±


    Austen gave her a look, removing the mask of her armor so the girl could see her incredulous expression. ¡°I don''t know if you went ahead and skipped your own ability to see what''s in front of your eyes, but look at them. They are absolutely a cult.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Skip confirmed. ¡°They certainly are. I did not say they weren''t a cult. I said they weren''t your cult. They are not the people you knew, and they have not picked up the same banner. If you charge in there, you will find more trouble than you expect.¡± Before Austen could retort, she pointed toward the other building and added, ¡°Just watch for a moment. You will see.¡±


    So, with no small amount of impatience and annoyance, the other girl did just that. They both stood there and watched what had been a safehouse for the Church of the Lamb missionaries. It wasn''t long before Austen saw what her companion had been warning her about. Several colorful figures emerged onto the roof of that building. They were clearly deep in discussion. And two were familiar, though Austen had not seen them personally. But she recognized the man with the long gray coat, surrounded by rats and mice, and the man in the dark green suit and tie, both wearing hooded masks, as a couple of the people who had attempted to blow up the building where the cure for Sleeptalk was being made. They had fought Paintball. The fact that that was what their target had been wasn''t public information, but Austen had ways of finding out such things. She also knew that those two and their companions hadn''t been identified yet. They were strangers with no known allegiance.


    But now they would be, because she also recognized the other figure with them, the one doing most of the talking on that roof. The woman, who appeared to be around seventy years old and well-worn, with white hair and dark leather clothes, could have simply been an anonymous figure. Nothing about her stood out that much on its own. Except for the long metal claws that emerged from her fingers. Between that and the swarm of red birds fluttering around her, the woman''s identity was obvious. Those weren''t simply birds. They were constructs formed from blood.


    Skip was right. This was a very different cult. One that shouldn''t even have been here in the city. This was the Garden of Badb, and that was their titular leader. They were a small army of Touched whose entire lives revolved around fighting and challenging anyone to prove their own strength. They set up fighting tournaments, offering prizes, both good and bad, to anyone who could prevail. And they had clearly been the ones responsible for trying to stop the cure from being made.


    But why? And what were they doing in Detroit?

 Interlude 31B - Paige And Irelyn

    It was time. After everything that had happened, after all the distractions and problems, after what felt like years of consequences for the choices she had made (and the ones she hadn¡¯t), it was finally time for Paige to face the music. It was time for her to take the judgment she deserved and be told what sort of monster she really was by the person most qualified to do that particular judging, the woman she had been bought to replace. Not that she had been able to do that properly anyway.


    It was time for her to face Irelyn and admit all the mistakes she had made. Not just mistakes, active choices that had been wrong. All the ones she could admit to, anyway. They were still things she couldn''t tell the woman, no matter how much she might have wanted to. She couldn''t give away Cassidy''s identity without their permission. That sort of thing had to stay secret. It wasn''t hers to tell. But that, at least, was the sort of secret Irelyn would understand.


    She had no idea how this was going to go, none. For the longest time, she had assumed she would never actually tell Irelyn that much of the truth, if any of it. She had seen that as impossible. What was she supposed to tell her about where she really came from, who had made her, or even why? How could she explain any of that, let alone the stuff about the Ministry and how this entire situation had come about? Before all of this had happened, she had been convinced that she would never tell Irelyn the actual truth about any of that. She had simply resigned herself to leaving the older girl permanently in the dark when it came to what her parents had actually been up to for so long, and about the devil they had sold their souls to.


    But now, how could she not? After the choices she had made had led to everything it did, how could she avoid telling the woman at least as much of the truth as she could without betraying anyone else? Irelyn had been sent to Breakwater, she had almost died, she had been subjected to Sleeptalk, and so on and so on. All those things happened because Paige had lied to her about where she was and about what was going on. She sent Irelyn to Florida, and that led to¡­ everything else. No matter what else happened, the girl deserved to know the truth about that.


    It was going to go poorly. She knew that already. Admitting that she wasn''t a real person, she was essentially a robot, an artificial intelligence with the copied personality from a dead girl in a biological-yet-artificial body would¡­ it would make the older girl turn on her. Paige would have no choice but to run away. She would be on her own. But that was okay. It wasn¡¯t as though it would be a surprise or anything. She had prepared for that certain eventuality for years. She had set up her own accounts that couldn¡¯t be linked back to the Banners at all, had put money away to keep herself afloat. It hadn¡¯t been hard to make it look like she was spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on new clothes and other toys while actually purchasing things from thrift stores or bargain bins. With a little work and ingenuity (to say nothing of a few hours of sewing here or there), no one had been able to tell the difference. They just thought she had her own private designers. It was sad, really, how easy it was to convince the other rich kids that something that had only cost twenty dollars was actually worth five or six hundred. She talked fast and acted as though the things she was saying about fabric and particular designs were obvious, and the others just nodded along as though they already knew that. They didn¡¯t want to look stupid by admitting they had no idea what she was talking about.


    It was the Emperor¡¯s New Clothes, only reversed. Or something like that.


    And speaking of clothes, in addition to money, Paige had disguises ready to go, along with false identification that could stand up to any level of scrutiny. And since Sierra had joined her, so had she. The two of them had been prepping for this for weeks now, off and on.


    Yeah, that was right, the two of them. Because she really wouldn''t be on her own, would she? She had this new sister, a sister who looked so much like Cassidy it was almost physically painful. And she had Cassidy themself, who finally remembered their friendship. Not to mention the other members of Avant-Guard. She had friends and a team and a sister and she would not be completely alone after all. Not the way she had thought she would be for so long. Not the way she had feared.


    So why was she still so anxious about all this? Why is she still so terrified about how Irelyn was going to react to being told the truth about her? They had never been very close. She had always known that the few times the older girl had reached out to her to make some play at sisterhood that it had simply been an attempt at being polite. She knew there was no actual care there. Why would there be? Paige had been brought in to replace her. Their parents had disowned Irelyn and literally bought a replacement. Sure, the girl didn''t know exactly how literal that was. But she did know that Paige had been brought in as a replacement for her. Why would she care about someone like that? She was probably already dreading the idea of needing to take responsibility for her adopted younger sister now that the Banners were gone.


    Well, she wouldn''t actually need to worry about that at all. Paige would tell her what she really was and then she would leave the other girl alone. She would abandon this identity entirely and let Irelyn inherit everything as she should have to begin with. She could have her birthright, the ones that never should''ve been taken away from her. One of the first things Paige had done after the deaths of the Banners was to create a false will that fully reinstated the older girl to her inheritance. It gave all of that to her, and was just waiting to be taken to court. Her life would finally be set right. It was the very least that Paige could do now.


    So, are you going to go in there and see her, or just sit there for another three hours? Whatever you''re doing, whatever this turns into, get the hell on with it. Chop chop. I''m getting bored over here.


    The message was from Sierra, of course. It came over the text network the two of them had established with one another. They could''ve used voice connection as well, but it seemed that even artificial life forms would take any excuse not to call one another on the phone.


    You''re hustling drunks at pool in a bowling alley, Paige sent back while rolling her eyes with a glance at the mirror. I think you can find ways to entertain yourself for a few minutes. Keep your pants on and buy some more nachos or something. Or get one of the guys you''re hustling to buy you some nachos. Whatever, I''m going in there in just a minute. I just need to figure out what I''m going to say to her.


    There was a momentary pause before Sierra replied. Okay, first of all, I know you feel like this was all your fault, but it wasn''t. Not the quarantine and everything attached to it. That was his fault. Him and Amanda. They did this. The quarantine, the Banners being dead, Sleeptalk, all of this is because of them. But yes, Irelyn was taken to that island because you sent her down to Florida. Because you decided you knew how she was going to react to something and made a choice for her. Maybe it''s time to just present her with information and let her actually react instead of anticipating and reacting to everything ahead of time before it even has a chance to happen. I know we robots like to make things efficient, but come on. Let her react. She deserves that much.


    Staring at herself in the mirror as she absorbed that message, Paige gave a heavy sigh before opening her car door and getting out. She didn''t bother to lock the vehicle. It was parked in a secure lot inside Seraph headquarters. Besides, most likely, she wouldn¡¯t even be coming back to the car anyway.


    With those thoughts running through her mind, Paige gave what she believed would be one last glance back at the car on her way into the building. The people there were expecting her, of course. They knew she was the last legal (technical) relative of one of the patients. Although only very, very few had any idea which patient that was. They didn''t have that sort of clearance.


    She was given a mask to wear as she made her way through the building with the man who had come to guide her. It was similar enough to the one she wore as Poise to make the girl give a soft snort amusement despite herself. It was a noise that made the man escorting her glance that way, but she shook him off with a simple, ¡°Sorry, I''m just glad this is over. I mean, almost over.¡±


    The man offered her small smile of encouragement, his head bobbing easily with understanding. ¡°Oh yes,¡± he agreed, ¡°believe me, I think we can understand that. The whole city¡¯s been through a lot.¡± He seemed to want to reach out to pat her shoulder, but thought better of it. Instead, he added, ¡°I''m just glad they got the person behind it. I would ask if you can believe it was Cup the whole time, but I guess that psycho being behind something like this shouldn''t be that surprising.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°More surprising that it didn''t involve more people dying,¡± Paige agreed in a low, dark tone. Cup of course, had tried awfully hard to kill plenty of people throughout her career. It was obvious that her claims of being forced into this were complete and total bullshit. The last Paige had heard, the bitch had been trying to twist even the revelation that she had created Sleeptalk into some sort of situation where she was forced to act that way, like she was an abuse victim. Which was so thoroughly disgusting that it made Paige hate her even more.


    Still, she truly hadn''t killed as many people as she could have with this particular attack. Though Paige was willing to put responsibility for every single death that had happened as a result of the reduced authority figures and increased gang violence in the quarantined city directly at Amanda Sanvers¡¯ feet. Even in this, her hands weren¡¯t bloodless.


    By that point, they had reached the room in question. The man gave her one last look before gesturing. ¡°You''ve got a good one in there,¡± he informed her. ¡°Make sure she has help at home, okay? The doctor wanted to keep her longer, but she refused. Loudly and emphatically. You keep an eye on her. You''ll get a number to call if there''s any lingering effects. You make sure to call no matter how small or inconsequential you think they aren''t, got it? We need to know.¡±


    Wondering how the man would react if she told him Irelyn probably wouldn''t want to see her ever again before the night was over, Paige simply murmured acknowledgment, then moved into the other room. She heard the door close behind her before ever looking over at the bed where the older girl would be.


    Or at least, she was looking at where the girl should have been. But the bed was empty. Paige had just enough time to wonder very briefly if she had come too late and the man who had escorted her hadn''t realized. Then she caught a hint of movement from the side. If she hadn''t been so distracted, she would have known someone was there by the door into the bathroom the whole time. Her reflexes kicked in, and she started to twist that way, but it was too late. A figure had already crossed the distance between them and was grabbing her tightly, pinning her arms to her sides. But that was fine. If they thought that would trap her, they had another thing coming. Paige could put her heel so hard into the person''s foot that it would snap. As they went down, she would put a fist in their throat and then find out exactly what they had done to Irelyn, no matter how much damage she had to inflict before they finally felt like opening their---


    ¡°Paige,¡± a familiar voice cut through her lightning-quick thoughts, putting a complete halt to the plan of breaking this person¡¯s foot and collapsing their vocal cords. Which was a good thing, since the person who was talking had probably been through quite enough as it was.


    Stopping short as she realized that this wasn''t an attack, but a very enthusiastic hug, Paige somehow felt even more awkward and confused. She would have understood what to do with an attack, even if it was from the girl in question. Actually, given everything that had happened, being ambushed that way would have made perfect sense. A lot more than this did, anyway.


    ¡°Um,¡± she managed a bit weakly, body very stiff under the embrace. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± That was Irelyn¡¯s bewildering response, as she finally released the other girl and stepped back, though her hands stayed on Paige¡¯s shoulders. She gazed at her intently. ¡°I''m sorry I haven''t been here through everything that you''ve been dealing with. And that you had to be here by yourself after Mom and Dad--¡± She cut herself off, a flash of emotions running across her face. Her voice caught in her throat as she glanced away for a second. ¡°Sorry, they told me what happened a couple hours ago. I''m still trying to sort it all out. The memories of¡­ of everything are a little fuzzy. I keep mixing up the dreams with reality. They said it should fade pretty soon.¡±


    Paige had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. But she did know one thing that needed to be said. With a firm voice, she insisted, ¡°Don''t apologize for something that wasn''t your fault. You were sick. You were unconscious. You couldn''t do anything. And you--¡± She stopped, expression twisting anxiously. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about your parents. I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t--that they--¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just tell me not to apologize for something that isn¡¯t my fault?¡± Irelyn¡¯s voice was a little hoarse. It was clear that, whatever her relationship with her mother and father had been, finding out they were dead was hitting her hard. She was just trying to keep it from overwhelming her in front of Paige. ¡°Besides, you mean our parents. They were your mom and dad too, Paige.¡±


    Before Paige could find her voice or even think of how to respond to that, Irelyn was already taking her by the hand. ¡°Now let''s get out of here. We can talk about everything when we''re not in a stuffy hospital. I really can''t stand these places. I know they''re helpful, but seriously, I just get the heebie-jeebies around here.¡± With that, and as Paige finally realized the girl was fully dressed in normal clothes, Irelyn started to pull her out of the room at a brisk pace. ¡°I need ice cream.¡±


    It was a lot to take in, and Paige was still mentally reeling from the speed with which the other girl had latched on and begun to usher her out the door and down the hallway. Immediately, a doctor came to talk to her, but Irelyn shook him off and informed the man she would return the next day to have a physical taken. She was leaving right then because she needed fresh air and some time with her sister. Yes, she would make a record of any stray daydreams she had, yes she would record her sleep times, and yes she would take the medicine they had given her. No, she would not stay one more night, and no she didn¡¯t need a nurse to come home with her just in case.


    The next thing Paige knew, they were outside, and Irelyn was already walking toward the car that Paige had arrived in, recognizing it immediately. ¡°Okay, I know what I said about not having side effects right now, but you might need to drive anyway. I really don¡¯t want to fall into a daydream again and send us through a building.¡± She offered a faint smile then. ¡°That¡¯d be a quick way to end up right back in the hospital, which I¡¯d prefer to avoid right now.¡±


    So, Paige did the only thing she could right then. She got behind the wheel, waited for the other girl to get in the other side, then started driving. This wasn''t going at all the way she had expected, to be honest. Being hugged like that had really thrown her off. But at least they were leaving the hospital. They could go somewhere more private, so she could actually get through everything she needed to. She could tell Irelyn the truth, and then deal with the consequences. Even if it was going to take a lot to explain, and she wasn¡¯t even sure where to start.


    ¡°So,¡± Irelyn started after they had pulled out of the Seraph parking lot and were on the main road, ¡°your dad¡¯s a supervillain.¡±


    After nearly driving the car into a building despite what the older girl had said about having her drive to specifically avoid that, Paige shot a quick glance that way, taking in the unreadable expression there.


    Irelyn openly let her hang like that, frantically thinking, for a moment before continuing. ¡°I worked that much out while we were on Breakwater. He''s a very bad man who was sent there, and he wanted to have a way off that place. That''s where you come in. That''s why he sold you to our parents.¡±


    Her stomach hurt. Was it possible, could her stomach actually hurt, or was that just something her programming was telling her she should be experiencing right now? When you got right down to it, did the difference matter?


    Letting out a long breath, Paige started to respond, but the other girl continued. ¡°He needed some very deep pockets and resources to pull off an escape from Breakwater. And he got them from our parents. In exchange for several things, I imagine, but also in exchange for you. He literally sold his own daughter so our parents would give him what he needed to continue affecting things in the outside world, and eventually escape.¡±


    Her hand moved to touch Paige on the shoulder. ¡°And you''ve been dealing with that ever since. He probably enlisted you into helping to put that together. Somehow, you were a part of it. My guess is that''s why you disappeared when they did. They tried to betray him, tried to take you with them and go underground. Maybe because they couldn''t actually get him off that island. Or maybe they had second thoughts. Either way, it¡­ didn''t work out.¡±


    She was quiet for a moment, squeezing the other girl''s shoulder before giving a long sigh. ¡°I thought you might have been forced to make that call before, but I dismissed it. I guess I should''ve gone with my first instinct. I just don''t know if it was your birth dad, or our parents who made you send me away.¡±


    This was all a lot to take in. Irelyn had basically created an entire justification for what had happened that didn''t involve Paige actually admitting what she really was. It was very close to the actual truth, but would allow Paige to keep her secret about being a Biolem. She could run with it. She could correct a few parts, but leave that out. She didn''t need to expose the fact that she wasn''t a real, living human being.


    And then Paige thought about everything that had come as a result of her deceptions before, everything that Irelyn had gone through, everything the city had gone through. She thought about that before pulling the car through the gate at the Banner''s house and parking. As she turned the car off, the girl came to a decision. ¡°No, Irelyn, there''s more that you need to know about. I have to tell you about--¡±


    ¡°What the fu--¡± the older girl interrupted, hand snapping up to point at a figure standing on the porch of the massive house in front of them.


    ¡°What is Echo doing here?¡±

 Interlude 31C - Irelyn, Haley, And Paige

    Being trapped on an island full of evil, vicious supervillains should have been the definitive worst part of Irelyn¡¯s recent memory. Hell, it should have been the worst part of her memory, period. And, to be fair, it was still right up there in a high position. But the fact that it even had competition said a lot about the sort of things that had been happening. Things like finally making it home after that whole island excursion, and seeing her parents for about two seconds before witnessing them literally explode in front of her as gas erupted from their bodies.


    That¡­ yeah, that had been a real low point, one that would haunt Irelyn for the rest of her life. She had been right in front of them, close enough to touch. Her mouth had opened to say something to them, but there was no time. No sooner had she met her father¡¯s gaze, than they were¡­ gone. She had literally seen her mother and father¡¯s bodies physically blow apart to reveal clouds of thick, noxious fog. It had happened too quickly for her to actually consciously process it at the time, but she had seen her parents'' bodies explode right before her eyes.


    Honestly, that would have been bad enough if she had simply been allowed to move on from there. Witnessing her estranged parents being killed in front of her at the very moment that they were being reunited would have left her with enough pain. But no, that wasn¡¯t enough for the man behind this whole thing. Immediately after that, in the bare couple of seconds after witnessing that horrifying sight, the Sleeptalk effect had kicked in. The gas that had exploded outward had done its job. Her last memory before passing out into what had apparently been weeks of a forced, drugged coma, had been the sight of her parents¡¯ mutilated remains with more of that gas pouring out. She had fallen into a completely restless, yet unending sleep full of strange dreams and confusing memories while that image of her mother and father dying right in front of her remained locked deep in her subconscious, influencing everything she saw under Sleeptalk. It wasn¡¯t only a matter of seeing that event play out over and over. She saw the event play out in different ways, in different locations. It mixed itself into her other dreams. A treasured memory of walking into one of the main dining rooms as a child to show her mother an article about ¡®Flea¡¯ and finally, for once in her life, seeing pride in her mom¡¯s eyes had become horror in that dream-state as she saw that version of her mother torn apart from the inside and left mutilated.


    Her time in that coma wasn¡¯t fun, to say the least. On top of which, she had woken up after finally being cured, to not only find out if she had been a victim who needed to be saved without any control over her own destiny, but that the entire city had been shut down. So much had happened while she was left helpless and trapped in her own nightmares. The city was quarantined, surrounded with actual military force to trap everyone inside. Which, yes, made sense if they wanted to stop Sleeptalk from getting out if it had been contagious, but still. It was one more thing she had missed, one more thing she hadn''t been able to help with. It was one more thing that had happened while she was helpless.


    One thing for certain, she needed to get to the bottom of this. Maybe she hadn''t been able to save her parents, or herself, and had been completely unconscious the whole time the cure was being made. But she could make damn certain that the situation was handled and that no one else would be affected by it. Because while Cup might''ve been responsible for actually making the stuff (another whole situation she had completely missed out on), Irelyn was positive that she wasn''t the primary source of it. She wasn''t the source of the idea or the plan. That had to be Pittman himself. It was him. It always went back to him.


    All of which meant getting more answers from the only person who could provide them right then, a girl who had obviously been used by others her entire life, and who probably had no compelling reason to believe that Irelyn really wanted to help her, or that she could actually do anything useful. Particularly not after her performance thus far in this whole situation.


    And yet, despite that, it was clear that Paige had something she wanted to say. From the way she was reacting, some very important things. Irelyn already knew that. It was obvious simply from the few glances she had allowed herself when she was telling the girl what she had already figured out. She didn''t know everything. She hadn''t put the entire mystery together, obviously. There were pieces that only Paige could supply. And she was about to do just that. She was about to tell her what that whole situation had really been. She was about to explain and fill in those very important gaps that Irelyn hadn''t been able to solve on her own. The answers to questions that had been filling her mind since those first days on Breakwater were right there.


    But then Irelyn had seen her oldest friend, a person she hadn''t been face to face with in an incredibly long time. A person who had betrayed the Minority, and their friendship, all those years earlier before running off on her own to be a mercenary. Quite possibly the only person she could think of whose appearance would have distracted her away from listening to Paige right then. There was almost no one who could have presented themselves in that particular moment and not simply been told to go away and come back later after Irelyn had had a chance to talk to her adopted sister properly. But this was an exception. Possibly the only possible exception, at least among people who were still alive. This was Echo. Or, in her civilian life, Haley Torres. Though she probably wasn¡¯t going by that particular name anymore. At least not regularly. She was a mercenary, a Sell-Touched. Not an outright villain, and she had at the very least maintained a sort of code of conduct. There were things she wouldn''t do, types of people she wouldn''t hurt. But she still did plenty of bad, even within that code. She helped thieves and other criminals. She stole things. The code of the Sell-Touched meant that they were allowed to come back onto the legal side and aid the Star-Touched without immediately being arrested, as long as they weren¡¯t actually physically caught doing something illegal in that time. They were allowed to essentially call a timeout on being pursued by authorities as long as they were currently providing aid. Some cops interpreted that differently than others, but the overall point was that as long as a mercenary Touched wasn¡¯t actively committing crimes and offered help with any given situation, they would be left alone for that time. Cities needed Touched who could help too badly to turn their noses up against those sorts of people. Though, to be fair, most Sell-Touched tended to commit their crimes in one city and then go play nice in another in order to avoid pissing off the exact same people one day that they were supposed to be working alongside on the next.


    No shitting where they were supposed to eat, as the phrase essentially went.


    After blurting that confused question about why Echo was there to the girl beside her, who obviously couldn''t actually answer it, Irelyn put her hand on the door and told Paige to stay there. Before she could open it to go find out what Haley was doing, however, the younger girl spoke up. ¡°She''s been here for a while now, basically since you were hurt. In the city, that is. She''s been helping the Conservators, since they¡¯ve been so shorthanded. She''s the one who caught one of those new Scions, the girl with the gems.¡±


    Taking that in with a brief glance that way, Irelyn stared at Paige. There was nothing on her face, nothing that Irelyn could read to know what she was thinking. It just reminded her that she needed to have a real discussion with the girl. There were things they had to talk about. Whatever happened next, Irelyn needed Paige to understand that she didn''t blame her for anything her father had done. Or for what he had forced her to do. They had to have that talk, but it was going to have to wait for a minute. No matter how much she really didn¡¯t want it to.


    And yet, in that moment, Irelyn saw something else in Paige¡¯s face. There had been no emotion there before, nothing to give away what she was thinking. But, for just a bare instant, there was. Something played across the girl''s face just as Irelyn was about to get out to talk to Haley. And she knew, without actually understanding how or why, that if she left the car right then without saying anything else, she would end up regretting it. She would lose her chance to¡­ to what, talk to Paige? Why would she lose that chance? The girl was right there. It wasn¡¯t like she would just disappear. How would that--no, she wasn¡¯t going to argue with her own intuition right then, not after everything that had happened. She had known that Paige was being forced to make that call back then, and if she had listened to that instinct, everything would have been different. She wasn¡¯t going to ignore it now, after all that shit.


    So, listening to her subconscious, Irelyn reached out to put a hand on the other girl''s arm. She ignored Haley standing on the front steps in her costume. She knew her friend was watching and clearly wanted to talk, but she could wait for a minute. Instead, Irelyn squeezed her adopted sister''s arm. Her voice was soft. ¡°I know we need to talk. I want to talk. I want both of us to be on the same page. I want¡­ I want to help however I can. Just give me a minute, okay? Let me talk to her, and then you and I, we¡¯ll¡­ we¡¯ll talk about everything, all of it. Whatever you need to say, whatever you want to get off your chest, or maybe whatever you need to hear, we¡¯ll get through it. I will listen. But whatever it is, whatever we need to talk about, I want you to know, I am not my parents. And you¡¯re not your father. We¡¯re our own people with our own choices, okay?¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Even as she said that bit, about not being her parents, Irelyn felt her voice catch in her throat a bit. Of course she wasn¡¯t her parents. They were dead. They were gone. She had watched them explode in front of her, breaking apart like a literal horror movie right before her eyes while gas escaped from what remained of their actual bodies to put Irelyn and all the people around her into several week-long comas. Which she had woken out of only hours ago, to be told that the nightmares she¡¯d been experiencing through all that time had been very real after all. No, she wasn''t her parents. Her parents, her mother and father, the people who had birthed, raised, and then cast her aside for not meeting their expectations, were dead. She would never reunite with them, would never have the chance for her father to change his mind and accept her. Her mother would never speak up in her defense. Her father had thrown her out, had disowned her, and her mother let him do it.


    And now they were gone forever. That would be their lasting legacy. There would never be any reconciliation.


    It was a thought, a realization, that made Irelyn absolutely positive that she needed to set things right with Paige. Whatever happened, whatever the truth, she needed to make the girl understand that she didn''t blame her for it. They needed to get it all out in the open and move past it. Because she didn''t want to get to a point with that girl where they would never be able to reconcile and understand one another. She didn''t want to let what happened with her--with their parents happen with Paige. She might not have asked to have an adopted sister, but she for damn sure was going to find a way to make it work.


    Getting all that out, her promise to the other girl that they would get through whatever they needed to talk about, Irelyn finally opened the door and stepped out. She walked around the car and approached the front steps, waiting until she was right in front of her old friend before speaking up. ¡°I thought you said, oh, what was it? Something about how my family and the Evans combined wouldn''t have the cash it would take to get you to come back here considering how awkward the whole situation was? Did a third rich family get involved to up the pool for that, or did this thing get done on a payment plan?¡±


    Standing there in her costume, watching the other woman for a moment, Haley finally responded. But she didn''t speak. She didn''t volley a bit of teasing back at Irelyn. Instead, she took a few steps forward, coming down the stairs before her arms rose. Irelyn had just enough time to process what was about to happen for her old friend pulled her into a hug. She made a noise of surprise, standing there as Haley clutched her tightly.


    ¡°I wasn''t kidding,¡± came the eventual reply while Haley continued to hold her tightly. ¡°No amount of money would have been enough to make me come back here. But this was about you, and you''re worth more than all the money in the world.¡± She released her then, and stepped back while staring at her. Reaching up, Haley unlatched the white helmet with its blue visor and pulled it off. She held the thing in one hand so she could look at Irelyn face to face. It had been years since the two of them had seen each other in person and awake like this. That continued for a few long seconds before she spoke again. ¡°I know you think I betrayed you. And maybe in some ways I did. I chose to go do my own thing instead of staying on the Minority. But it was never about abandoning you. If I could''ve convinced you to come with me, I would have. We could''ve gone off to help people in our own way, on our own terms. I didn''t want to be an enforcer for the government. I didn''t want the authorities to decide who deserved to be saved, and I didn''t want to be turned into some sort of security guard to uphold the system. I wanted my own life. And I wanted you to be part of it, as¡­ as my friend. I wanted you to be there, but I didn¡¯t want to force you into it. I didn¡¯t want to manipulate or shame you into it. That¡¯s what your parents always did.¡±


    Irelyn opened and shut her mouth a couple times, searching for the right words. Finally, she exhaled. ¡°You know what, I have a lot of complicated feelings right now. I don''t know what to say about any of this. But you came back. You came back to help. And, as it happens, I was just thinking about how I don''t want to leave relationships in a place where I''d regret never getting closure.¡± With that said, she pulled the other girl into a new embrace, and this time, they both hugged one another.


    Irelyn really did hold a lot of complicated feelings about Haley leaving. Part of her didn''t want to accept the girl¡¯s presence right then. The sense of betrayal that had lingered ever since Haley left hadn''t magically disappeared entirely. But it also wasn''t something Irelyn wanted to cling to, especially not now. She wanted to let it go so they could move on, and she knew, in that moment, that the best way to do that was to actually try. She had to make an effort to move past those feelings.


    After all, when it came down to it, Haley had come when she was needed. She had come to help. Yes, it was for Irelyn herself rather than the city or other innocent people, and that complicated things even more. But it was what mattered. She was here. All the rest of it, the emotions and complicated thoughts, they could be dealt with later.


    Even as that thought came, Irelyn heard the sound of a car door opening. She looked over to see Paige getting out. The blonde girl held a hand and looked apologetic. ¡°I''m sorry. I wouldn''t interrupt, but you''ve got a call.¡± With that, she held out Irelyn¡¯s phone, which had been left on the dash. ¡°It¡¯s um¡­ it''s from Ten Towers. It sounded important.¡±


    Frowning in confusion, Irelyn took the phone and answered. ¡°This is Flea. Yes. Sure, connect me to Skip.¡± The person on the other end had been a dispatcher, letting her know that the other Touched wanted to talk.


    After a moment, the familiar voice came through. ¡°Flea, I apologize for interrupting. I know you just woke up, and found out about your parents. I wouldn''t have called, except you are the only one I know of who lives here in Detroit and had any experience with these people. I don''t want to call in outside resources until we know for certain.¡±


    The words made Irelyn blink, looking at Haley, then at Paige before responding slowly. ¡°It''s okay. I know everyone is stretched thin. What''s going on? What people?¡±


    There was a brief pause, then the other girl sent a text with a picture attached. When she looked at it, Irelyn felt her breath catch. ¡°Is¡­ is this--¡±


    ¡°The picture was taken inside the city,¡± Skip confirmed. ¡°Those are the people I think they are, yes? I had hoped it might be an impersonator, but given the power displayed¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Badb,¡± Irelyn confirmed. She heard both Paige and Haley give a pair of sharp inhales. ¡°Which means the rest of them are her gang, her¡­ cult. The Garden of Badb. She¡¯s here in the city.¡±


    ¡°We believe they were the ones responsible for the attempt to destroy the cure that¡­ awakened you,¡± Skip noted. ¡°Thank you for the confirmation, we shall handle the situation.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right there,¡± Irelyn started to insist. ¡°I can pull the suit out of my car and--¡±


    Skip interrupted. ¡°No. I have very strict instructions from your superiors that you are not to be involved in any of this. They don¡¯t know what sort of side effects you might still be subjected to, and if you were to fall asleep or begin hallucinating in the middle of an¡­ encounter like this, you could do much more harm than good. That is not a suggestion, it is an order. You are not to come.¡±


    Irelyn wanted to argue with that. Oh boy did she ever want to argue. But she couldn¡¯t. They had a point. She had just woken up from a multi-week coma hours earlier. There was no telling what might happen if she ran into a fight right now. So, reluctantly, she mumbled an agreement before disconnecting.


    ¡°Badb?¡± Haley grimaced. ¡°That¡¯s bad news. And it¡¯s her entire gang? What the hell would they be doing here? Wait, why did they call you anyway?¡±


    ¡°She fought them once,¡± Paige put in quietly. ¡°During a prisoner escort. A Fell from Minnesota was over here and had to be driven back there. It was high-profile enough that they needed Touched escort. Flea--Irelyn was part of it.¡±


    Giving a little nod at that, Irelyn added, ¡°It was about three years ago. Badb and her people attacked the escort. We tried to stop them, but¡­ well, it didn¡¯t go that great. She¡¯s dangerous. That¡¯s why I need to be out there.¡±


    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t,¡± Haley stated flatly. ¡°But I can.¡± She interrupted before Irelyn could speak up. ¡°I¡¯ll go help your friends, no charge. I¡¯ve had some experience with Badb too, so I know what I¡¯m getting into. Just trust me, okay? I¡¯ll handle it while you rest. Let me do this.¡±


    Irelyn wanted to argue, and she sure as hell didn¡¯t want to send her old friend off to fight without her. But she had no choice. They were right about her not being able to go into something like that right now, even if she did feel fine. So, in the end, she simply embraced Haley again and made her promise to come back to talk more extensively once it was over. She literally made the other girl hold up her hand and swear she wouldn¡¯t just take off and disappear for years again.


    Once Echo was gone, Irelyn exhaled, standing there in front of the empty house that had once belonged to her parents. She had no idea what was going to happen now. Except¡­ ¡°I guess we can have that talk now, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Paige agreed, moving beside her. ¡°We can talk.


    ¡°And I can finally tell you the truth about what I am.¡±

 Interlude 31D - Irelyn, Paige, And Sierra

    ¡°I must say,¡± Irelyn mused while sitting on one side of their father¡¯s absurdly ornate dining room table, a massive stretch of polished wood that was meant to seat at least thirty people comfortably, ¡°that was a very dramatic thing to announce before going silent for the past ten minutes. Kudos on your sense of flair and drama.¡± She was trying to keep her tone as light as possible, going for threading the needle between gently prodding Paige to continue with what she wanted to talk about, and simply teasing her as a way of showing her that it would be okay. Whether she was actually successful at that remained to be seen. But then again, she had just woken up from a multi-week coma a few hours earlier, and had now sent her former best friend off to potentially get into a fight that she herself wasn¡¯t even allowed to participate in. A very dangerous fight against incredibly unpredictable opponents. And now Paige, her adopted sister, and the daughter of one of the people ultimately responsible for that coma in the first place, had promised to tell her exactly what she was, before falling silent for that entire time. A silence that had felt almost like a thick, physical blanket draped over both of them.


    Without actually discussing what they were doing, they had both come inside the house, moved to the dining room, and sat at the stupidly fancy table quietly together since those last words. And there they had stayed through that entire time, while Irelyn waited patiently before finally speaking up just then.


    Paige, for her part, blushed slightly under the teasing words and stared down at her hands. Her fingers flexed, opening and shutting a few times as the girl gazed at them with an expression of wonder. It was as though she was amazed simply by the sight of her own hands being able to move. Honestly, if Irelyn hadn''t known better, she almost might have thought the girl was on some sort of drug or medication that was making her act like this. She was certainly behaving oddly, and with everything that had been going on, it would be hard to blame her. If anyone had an excuse to need some mind-numbing alteration by this point, it really was Paige. Her adopted parents were dead, clearly killed by her own birth father, and her own involvement in the whole situation was evident even if the precise details were still uncertain.


    But no, this wasn''t drugs. Irelyn wasn''t sure how she could be so sure on that point, yet she was. She knew this was something very different, something more important, and probably more life-changing than drugs. Those would have been understandable given the situation. This was something that Paige was afraid to tell her, and Irelyn wasn''t sure how to help that beyond making it clear that she would sit and listen to whatever it was. She just needed Paige to actually say it.


    Finally, the other girl let out a long breath and looked up to meet her stare. ¡°Okay, I can do this. I need to tell you some things. A lot of them aren''t very good. They''re bad. And there''s other things I can''t tell you because they aren''t my secrets to say. I''ll tell you everything I¡¯m allowed to right now, everything that wouldn''t be betraying other people who deserve to have privacy. Just, please listen to all of it.¡±


    Before she could say anything else, or do anything other than take another deep breath, another voice spoke up from the doorway, despite Irelyn¡¯s firm belief that no one else was in the house. ¡°And when she says that, what she actually means is that we¡¯ll tell you everything we can.¡±


    Obviously, the unexpected voice made Irelyn jump out of her chair, knocking it over as she twisted around with one hand raised defensively and the other arm extended to cover Paige even though the girl was on the opposite side of the table. If someone had managed to break into the house without her even noticing, it was-- what she saw brought her short. There was a blonde girl standing in the doorway. But not just any blonde girl, a rather familiar one. ¡°Cassidy Evans?¡±


    It was definitely her, even if she had changed her look. Her skin was notably more tanned, her hair was worn in a ponytail and had been dyed blonde, and even her eyes were a different color. Contacts, obviously. Most people who didn''t have much experience with the Evans girl wouldn''t have been able to place her at all. But Irelyn had seen her enough, largely thanks to her father¡¯s ugly obsession with that family, that she could see through that and recognized her immediately. What she didn¡¯t understand was why she had changed her look so much.


    ¡°Sierra,¡± Paige started in a voice that was much closer to Irelyn than she had been just a moment before, ¡°I thought you were going to wait until I actually got to the point of introducing you. I swear that was what we agreed on.¡±


    Shifting at the realization of how much closer the girl was, Irelyn glanced that way to find Paige standing directly beside her with one hand on that chair that had been falling. She had somehow gone around or over the table in a split-second, catching the chair before it could hit the floor. Had she jumped over the large table and landed silently beside her, or run all the way around past several other settings to reach this side? Either way was incredibly impressive, if not actually impossible for a normal human girl, no matter how much cheerleading and gymnastics practice she had. This was something else, something Irelyn really needed to focus on.


    Instead, her attention was devoted mostly to the figure in the doorway. Blinking at the name, Irelyn echoed, ¡°Sierra? What is that, a nickname? Are you trying to make some changes?¡± It was possible, with both of her parents going through the same thing Irelyn herself had, that Cassidy had felt the need to dramatically change herself. It would explain why she was here, at least. Especially since the last thing Irelyn knew, these two were constantly at each other¡¯s throats. She¡¯d had no idea what that was about, aside from the high probability that it was pushed by her father. She absolutely would not have put it past him to encourage Paige to be a total bitch to the young daughter of his primary business rival.


    The girl in the doorway, however, gave a soft snort before shaking her head. ¡°Believe me, there''s some changes I''d love to make. I''ve got a whole list, actually. But it''s not what you¡¯re thinking. I am not Cassidy Evans. By which, I mean I have never been Cassidy Evans. We are physically different people. Though I hear good things.¡±


    Opening and shutting her mouth a couple times, Irelyn turned her gaze to the girl beside her and asked, ¡°Okay, what exactly is going on? Is this some long lost twin? Did¡­ did our dad create a clone of Cassidy just to fuck with that family?¡± She absolutely would not have put that past him, especially if he''d had regular contact with someone like Benjamin Pittman, who¡­ wait a minute¡­


    ¡°Dude!¡± Sierra¡¯s face lit up. ¡°That was really close. You''re right, Paige, she¡¯s pretty quick. Even if she does seem to be in a little bit of denial right now.¡± Her hand made a dismissive motion. ¡°And don''t give me that look. You were seriously taking all day about it. Sometimes you just need to rip the Band-Aid off and get through it. Either she accepts you or she doesn''t. If it''s the latter, we need to move on. Better than sitting around hemming and hawing forever.¡±


    There was a lot Irelyn wanted to say to that, but she had no idea where to start. She was still reeling from all this, and it was honestly only the fact that Paige was reacting to the new arrival that convinced her she wasn''t experiencing a hallucinogenic side effect from lingering Sleeptalk. But no, it was real, and she was starting to think she actually had an idea of what was going on.


    Paige finally spoke up, while stepping around to stand beside Sierra. ¡°Okay. Alright. She''s not a clone, or a long lost twin. She¡¯s a Biolem, Irelyn.¡± She paused then, before adding, ¡°And so am I.¡±


    Over the following twenty minutes or so, Paige and this Sierra girl told Irelyn about what their birth father-- or creator-- had done, about what Irelyn¡¯s own parents had been a part of. They told her about the Biolems, which Irelyn had already known a bit about, thanks to other encounters. But those Biolems hadn''t been all like these two. They were very simple as far as intelligence went, barely more than drones. They certainly couldn''t have passed as ordinary people on their own for the sheer number of years that Paige had.


    Apparently there was a good reason for that. Those other Biolems had little more than fancy computers running them. They didn''t have real personalities. Not like these two. Paige herself had an upload of Pittman¡¯s own daughter¡¯s personality and mind, while Sierra a slightly altered copy of that. It was complicated, apparently. But that was why they were different from those other, simpler versions. They had what was essentially an upload of a human mind instead of a computer program. They were a much more advanced Biolem than those foot soldiers from before.


    It was, to put it simply, a lot to take in. Irelyn found herself needing to sit down almost as soon as they started. She sat there silently, watching and listening as her adopted sister and the girl who looked so much like Cassidy Evans explained the whole thing. Or, at least much as they could right then without exposing others. There were certain things they wouldn¡¯t talk about just yet.


    Paige had been created originally as a test, a proof of concept. And as a way for Pittman to make his young daughter immortal after suffering from the death of his wife. But he saw her as a failure on that point, for some reason. She was more like a close sister to his original daughter. Maybe because she had her own personality and not simply a carbon copy of the original girl. Either way, he had been using her to get investments from another rich family, the Tates. Then something bad had happened. That family had been attacked in their home and massacred. Which was very much news to Irelyn, since she only remembered that family dying in an accident in a completely different state. But apparently that was part of a big cover-up. Again, there were details in that story that Paige and Sierra weren¡¯t allowing themselves to get into.


    Either way, Pittman had been enraged by the loss of his investors and his friends. He blamed the Evans for what happened, for some reason. Maybe because they refused to invest in his work? Or because he thought they were actually responsible for the attack? It wasn''t clear. But whatever the reason, he saw them as his enemies, and became rather obsessed with taking them down. Which made him the perfect partner for Irelyn¡¯s father, who was already quite obsessed with seeing the Evans as his primary rivals. Apparently, Pittman¡¯s first plan had involved abducting the Evans¡¯ older child and replacing him with a Biolem copy, who would do something horrific like kill ¡®his own sister¡¯ and then dramatically confess to all sorts of crimes that his family was supposedly responsible for. That would make their business empire completely crumble to dust, and the Banners would be ready and waiting to jump in and take over everything when that happened. They would become the new richest, most powerful family in the state.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    That, however, had fallen through when Paige had exposed him and the plan to one of the Evans¡¯ chief security people. He had been able to get Pittman arrested and sent to Breakwater. Which, honestly, the idea that the Evans had that sort of power really didn''t surprise Irelyn at all, once she gave it a little thought. If anyone in the world could simply snap their fingers and fast track a trial to get a person banished forever like that, it was definitely Sterling and Elena Evans. Especially if that person was responsible for attempting to destroy their family and murder their children like that. They had clearly been very motivated to make him go away. Though, to be perfectly honest, Irelyn wasn¡¯t sure why they hadn¡¯t simply had Pittman killed. Maybe they were just too squeamish for that and didn¡¯t believe in killing? She wasn¡¯t sure. Whatever the reasoning, they¡¯d had the man sent to Breakwater, which should have been the end of him.


    But, of course, that hadn''t been the end at all. Pittman had simply moved to plan B, even as he was sent away. He''d had his best creation, Paige herself, sold to the Banners. They would help him with everything he needed to do, in exchange for helping to take down the Evans (something both sides wanted to do anyway), and for a brand new daughter to replace the one who was such a disappointment. And this one they could literally control and program to behave any way they wanted. There wouldn''t be a repeat of Irelyn. The Banners would be able to essentially create their perfect daughter, though they weren¡¯t going to be given the codes to do their own programming to make her exactly what they wanted until after Pittman got what he wanted.


    Or, as the case actually was, they were never going to be given the codes to control her.


    Paige, for her part, was ordered to create a history of bad blood between herself and Cassidy Evans. Then, on her seventeenth birthday, she was supposed to kill the girl and get herself banished to Breakwater as well. Being a secret Biolem rather than a Touched, the island prison¡¯s defenses wouldn¡¯t be prepared for her, and she would be able to break out her creator and all of his people.


    It was an overly-complicated and convoluted plan, but then, Pittman was literally a mad scientist, so that tracked. And he was obsessed with the Evans for some reason, so any plan he came up with had to involve hurting that family as much as possible. So all of that made twisted sense.


    Of course, Paige¡¯s birthday had already passed. She had been ordered to murder Cassidy Evans, but had found a way to avoid that. She didn¡¯t want to get into the details, yet assured Irelyn that the other girl was still safe and alive. Instead, Paige had destroyed that warehouse where the other Biolems were being made, with the help of that Paintball boy. Maybe he had helped stop Paige from following her programming? It wasn¡¯t clear. But he did have access to a Tech-Touched of his own, that Trevithick girl, so it kind of made some sort of sense.


    Whatever the reasoning, however they had stopped that from happening, Paige had destroyed the warehouse. But her father had infected her with a hostile AI program meant to take over her mind and turn her back to his side. That hostile program had become Sierra, and together, they and Paintball¡¯s people had managed to find one of the last remaining advanced Biolem bodies for her to be put into. That body had been a copy of Cassidy Evans herself, probably intended for a similar purpose as Pittman¡¯s original plan to replace Simon Evans with a duplicate.


    And now both of them were part of Paintball¡¯s team, despite technically not having any powers. They were Biolems, with their own enhanced physical abilities. They were Poise and Style. Her own adopted sister and this girl who looked like a twin to Cassidy Evans were Biolems working with Paintball on Avant-Guard.


    Irelyn felt like an idiot for not figuring that out sooner, to be honest. It seemed so obvious in hindsight that she wanted to smack herself. Well, not the Biolem part, but she really should have recognized Paige. Or at least, she told herself she should have.


    ¡°Are you doing okay with this?¡± Paige tentatively asked with an expression that made it clear she wasn¡¯t sure she should even be saying anything at all. ¡°I mean, we just told you that we¡¯re¡­ biological robots.¡±


    ¡°Biological robots,¡± Irelyn echoed, a small, rueful smile playing at her lips. ¡°Something tells me that¡¯s not as different from ¡®human¡¯ as we might think.¡± She took a long, deep breath then before looking that way. ¡°Your fathers--both of them-- told you to kill Cassidy Evans. They forced you to do it. If you were human and they were holding a gun to your head, you still would¡¯ve had more of a choice in the matter than you did. They might as well have used mind control to force you into it. But what did you do?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ found a way to bring Cassidy back,¡± Paige murmured softly. ¡°I found a way around their demands.¡±


    ¡°If you were ¡®just a robot,¡¯ you wouldn¡¯t have,¡± Irelyn informed her simply, yet pointedly. ¡°You would have followed your instructions and gone no further. You chose to go against your father the first time, because you knew that what he was doing was wrong. You chose to find a way to beat this programming, because you knew killing Cassidy was wrong. You made choices, your own choices based on your own moral code. If we can have humans that are as evil as Pittman, or even Cup and Pencil, then I don¡¯t exactly think my species has an iron grip on morality ourselves. You made choices that went against your so-called programming. You made your own decisions as best as you could, while having a gun to your head the entire time. Paige, I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re a robot or a rooster. I¡¯ve spent years working right alongside TONIs, you think I can¡¯t recognize human-level morality and intelligence in a creature that usually doesn¡¯t have those? I watched the entirety of Star Trek: The Next Generation for God¡¯s sake. Don¡¯t make me quote the entirety of Picard¡¯s Sentient Being speech, because I¡¯ll do it right here and make you watch me act it out. I will judge you based on the choices you make, not on who built your body or whether your brain is flesh or metal.¡±


    Irelyn let that settle for a moment. It was important for Paige to hear it, even if it would probably need to be repeated often.


    There were still things Irelyn needed to ask about beyond that, however. Things that didn''t make sense. She had to ask why, if Pittman hated the Evans so much, he didn''t just have Paige shoot them when they weren''t expecting it, or even put a bomb in one of his grunt biolems and have it blow itself up near them.


    Those two exchanged glances before Sierra shrugged. ¡°Well, part of that is because he wanted to ruin their lives and make it all very personal, but another part is probably the whole Ministry thing. He thought he couldn''t get away with attacking them directly just like that.¡±


    Her words made Irelyn frown. ¡°What do you mean, Ministry thing? What, is he religious?¡±


    That was when they dropped the real bomb. Taking turns, the two of them told Irelyn all about the secret organization that actually ran the city. Even after everything she had already heard, Irelyn was convinced this time they were either messing with her or exaggerating. It was all just so absurd. But she kept quiet and listened. By this point, she knew Paige and this other girl wouldn''t have just been making the whole thing up entirely. There had to be something behind it.


    Once they were done, she exhaled. Her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears. ¡°So, you''re telling me that both crime and law-enforcement in the city are actually controlled by a single organization, which itself is run by the richest family in the state. You''re telling me that for decades now, since before I was even part of the Minority probably, they have been controlling everything.¡±


    ¡°Not absolutely everything,¡± Paige replied, ¡°but most of the big stuff, yeah. They collect taxes off crime, and use law enforcement to keep it within reason. They play both sides.¡±


    Irelyn genuinely had no idea how to react to that, none at all. She just sat there, letting the thoughts run through her mind. As she was processing, Paige and Sierra both pressed her to not say or do anything different. They informed her that the Ministry had people in every team and in every law-enforcement and judicial office. Some knew more than others about what they were doing, but all could be assets. And it wasn''t just here in the city. They apparently had contacts at the state and federal level, though to a lesser extent. It still wasn''t safe to try to go after them. Anything she said could--would end up finding its way to the Evans, even if the initial person she spoke to was safe. There would be reports, paperwork, something would slip somewhere.


    Holding up a hand to stop that, Irelyn announced, ¡°Okay, I understand. I need to think about all this. I''m not going to do anything stupid and rash, I promise. Besides, we still have to let the Breakwater people know just what Pittman is capable of.¡±


    Sierra snorted at that. ¡°Well, he''s not really capable of anything besides fertilizing some flowers right now.¡±


    Paige elbowed the girl, and then explained what had happened, that they had actually teleported that bastard over to get the cure from him, found out he hadn''t made it, and then handed him over to the Ministry themselves. Which was when he had been killed.


    Oh wow. Okay, Irelyn had been given a lot to digest in a very short time. That was the straw that broke the camel''s back as she simply held up both hands.¡±Nope, nope, that¡¯s enough. No more of that. I''ll deal with everything later. This is¡­ too much to process immediately. Right now, I am awake, and I feel like celebrating. So let''s have a family dinner. You know, with what''s left of our family.¡±


    Paige was staring at her. ¡°I mean, Sierra and I can just go. We can take care of ourselves. You don''t have to pretend that I¡¯m actually your sister. Your parents bought me as part of a conspiracy to do something terrible, and now they''re gone. I''m not going to fight you for any of this. I¡¯ll just disappear. You can have it, all of it.¡±


    Irelyn gave her a sharp look. ¡°You¡¯ll do nothing of the sort. I promise you, Paige, if you try to disappear, I will do everything in my power and call in every favor I have to find you and bring you back here. I don''t care how it started. I don''t care what the reasoning was. My parents adopted you, and that makes you part of my family. You''re going to stay here, and we''re going to handle this together, no matter what it takes. You are my sister. I''m not letting you go off on your own. You''re not alone. And where exactly do you think you''re going?¡±


    That last bit was directed at Sierra, who had been heading for the door. She stopped and blinked back that way. ¡°I mean, I wasn''t adopted.¡±


    Irelyn shrugged at that. ¡°You were created as a copy of her. That sounds like a twin to me. Fraternal maybe, but still. You''re her sister, so you''re my sister. You belong here too. So get back here. Now like I said, you¡¯re both staying. I--I¡¯ll process everything at some point. Maybe I¡¯ll do a little screaming, I think Dad still has some really good soundproofing in the theater, that¡¯s a good place to scream. But in the meantime, let''s order some food.


    ¡°And see just how high up the ranks we can get for the weirdest family dinner in the city.¡±

 Non-Canon 35 - Fractured Finesse

    Elena Evans, born Elena Russo, had never been an ordinary person. Living one¡¯s childhood as a mafia princess tended to make having normal experiences rather difficult. Especially when your father was Jacopo Russo himself, the most powerful and dangerous crime lord in the state of Michigan and its surrounding territory. Jacopo Russo had not gained his position through being kind or forgiving. He was a ruthless man. Ruthless in every possible way. At one point, Jacopo had been a mid-tier leader within the organization, the local Mafia¡¯s version of middle management. He was known as a caporegime, or a capo. A lieutenant, essentially. His primary job had been to liaison with the local gangs, hiring cheap muscle for small problems that didn¡¯t require a full response. However, he had used the contacts he made through that position to conduct a hostile takeover of the Detroit criminal underworld. Those high-ranking members of the Mafia family who were loyal to him were brought on board, and those who were not, or who could not be trusted, were all ambushed and killed across a single night. When the dust had settled the next morning, Jacopo Russo had been on top, with his own thugs installed as muscle in all of the former Mafia strongholds. It should have been unthinkable for a made member of one of the top families to betray his own and work alongside outsiders. But then, he had never cared about such things. Not really. Jacopo cared about himself, about what was good for him. He knew the Family was far away, that Detroit was hardly seen as that important of an investment anyway, and that they all had their own problems. By the time they could actually bring together the manpower and equipment needed to retake the city, the new organization was deeply entrenched. The effort of dislodging Russo, just to retake an area that was failing anyway was deemed not worth it. But they did continually attempt to have the man himself assassinated. The Mafia didn¡¯t forget that sort of betrayal, after all. For years, Jacopo escaped attempt after attempt on his life, some more narrowly than others.


    Still, the man had achieved what he saw as true greatness. It was, in his mind, precisely where he had always belonged. He wasn¡¯t going to allow that to change, and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to allow anyone to forget how important he and his family were. He would never allow the people connected to him, the people he saw as an extension of his own self, to live normal lives. He abhorred the idea of being normal in any way. In Jacopo¡¯s mind, his family were the elite of the elite, living royalty who were above everyone, and they should always be treated as such.


    Or at least, he had believed that until Elena betrayed him. Then his feelings about how family should be treated had adjusted somewhat. He was what mattered, he and his choices, his comfort, his decrees. He was a god to those beneath him, which was everyone else.


    But, of course, there had been a time when Elena didn¡¯t mind the treatment, a time when she had enjoyed the feeling of being so special. It was hard to disagree with being seen as royalty, as being above the common people, when that was how your life had always been. Throughout elementary school, and all of junior high, Elena was never concerned with what things cost, or what the law or rules were. She did what she wanted, when she wanted. She attended classes when she felt like it, and left when she didn¡¯t, even if that was in the middle of the lesson. She took from people whenever they had something she wanted. No one dared stop her. No one wanted to draw the ire of Elena¡¯s father. Even if the police were unable to find proof and willing (living) witnesses to put Jacopo in prison, he was still known to be very dangerous. There was a difference between knowing someone to be a vicious monster and being able to prove it in court.


    All of which meant that Elena never faced consequences for her behavior in those days. She was above the common person, above the law. She was above everything and everyone.


    Naturally, one of the most important ways of using that power, of using how special she was, had been spoiling those close to her. Elena, in those days during that first year of high school, had loved to show off for her friends. Or, more specifically, her friend. Diana Escott had been around Elena for years, first as a silly, quiet little nerd who did Elena¡¯s homework for her through the first part of junior high. But eventually, Elena had grown fond of the smaller girl and brought her along on various trips. She was very different from the girls who usually spent time with her, and something about Diana made Elena feel protective. She wanted to show Diana a good time, wanted to reward her for ¡®helping¡¯ her with schoolwork. So, despite the other girl insisting she didn¡¯t need to and trying to demure, Elena had continually brought her along on various trips.


    And that was when tragedy had struck. Because those old world Mafia loyalists had never stopped trying to get at Jacopo. Yet in this case, they chose to target not the very-protected and untouchable man himself. Instead, Elena had been put into the crosshairs. A bomb was planted on the car that the fourteen-year-old Elena was meant to take to a weekend skiing trip. A trip that she had insisted Diana accompany her on despite the other girl trying to say that she had no interest in skiing.


    But, of course, Elena had ignored the preferences of her supposed friend. She had overruled the girl and insisted she come with. Because she wanted Diana to be there, regardless of what Diana herself wanted. And, in the end, that had cost the other girl her life. Because Elena had not been in the car when it exploded. Diana had been. The small, quirky, nerdy girl had been vaporized instantly.


    Elena had been forced to comprehend the fact that a girl she liked, an innocent person who had never hurt anyone in her life, had been brutally murdered. Not because of anything she had done, but in an attempt to get at Elena''s father through Elena herself. Diana had been several times removed from the situation, but she was still dead. She was gone forever through no fault of her own. She was dead because Elena had insisted that she come.


    That had been the beginning of the end of Elena''s time as a mafia princess. Yes, it hadn''t all changed at once. She hadn''t changed all at once. But the realization of what her actions had done, of what they had cost, made the young woman seriously begin to reconsider everything in her life. It made her reconsider who she was, and who her father was. She decided right then that she would do things differently. Everything she had done and allowed to happen in the years since could be traced back to that moment.


    Of course, as a fourteen-year-old she hadn''t actually understood what that meant. It had taken years, and meeting the man who would become her husband, to really decide how she was going to change things, how she was going to be better. And yet, in all that time, she never forgot Diana. She never forgot the pain of losing her friend to the violence caused by her dad¡¯s choices. She never forgot hearing the explosion and running outside to find the car burning. She never forgot standing there in the heat from those flames and staring into the wreckage where her friend had just died.


    Those memories came back to her often. But never as vividly as they had on two different occasions. Both involved her daughter. The first had been when Elena learned about the massacre at the Tates'' home. She had thought of how much pain she went through with the death of her old friend, a girl she hadn''t even truly appreciated at the time. Now her daughter was going through something even worse. Her best friend has been murdered in front of her. Not with an explosion, but with a gunshot. Cassidy had actually seen it happen in person. And Jacopo was responsible for that as well. He had chosen to have his granddaughter¡¯s friend murdered in front of her just to hurt Elena.


    She couldn''t let her baby girl go through that sort of trauma. So she had the memory erased. In the years since, Elena had asked herself many times if they''d made the right choice. And honestly, she had no idea. All she knew was that she wanted to take the pain away from her daughter. She remembered what it felt like to see her friend killed because of that man. She wanted to make her daughter smile again, and to take away all of her pain and trauma. She desperately, desperately wanted to fix it.


    But it was now, as Elena took the emergency phone call from Sterling and heard the words that he spoke, that the shock and pain of losing Diana that day all of those years earlier came back with a true vengeance. Sterling told her what happened. He didn''t stay on the line. He didn''t wait for her to do more than acknowledge she had heard him. He had other things to deal with. He had a man to kill.


    For several long seconds after her husband disconnected and went about his dark work, Elena sat in her office at the mansion, in the home she had put together for her family. She didn''t move. She didn''t spring into action. She wasn''t planning ten steps ahead, or even a single step. She wasn''t thinking at all. She simply sat there, staring at the wall without moving. The woman was motionless. Well, mostly motionless. One part of her did move. Her hand clenched tight enough around the pencil she had picked up to snap it in half. The sound of that crack made her eyes close. And yet, that was all she did. Even then, she didn''t jump to action.


    This was wrong. What was she doing? She needed to get up. She needed to make phone calls. She needed to go to the hospital. She needed to be there with--with her¡­ she needed to be there with Cassidy. What was wrong with her? Her daughter needed her. Her daughter was hurt, so badly hurt. She could have died. She still might. There was no guarantee. From what little Sterling had been able to tell her, Cassidy had taken a horrific blast of lightning, a direct hit from Cu¨¦lebre. She had survived it, but barely. It was very close. Now the doctors were taking care of her. Ministry doctors, the very best that money and influence could buy.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Maybe that was why she didn''t move, because there was nothing for her to do in that hospital while they were working on Cassidy. But no, Elena knew that wasn''t it. She should be there. She should''ve been there already. She needed to be waiting and watching. She had to be in control of the situation. She needed to get their story straight, control who found out what, and what they were allowed to do with that knowledge. This could spiral out of control so quickly, even if these were Ministry loyalists.


    Her daughter needed her to be close. Her people needed her to show that she was present. Her husband needed her to be there while he was busy. Everyone needed her to show strength and control right now. They needed her to be Minister White.


    Elena knew all that. She knew all the reasons she could not continue to sit here with her eyes shut and that broken pencil clasped tightly in her grip. So why couldn''t she make herself move? Why couldn''t she put thought to action? Why was she continuing to sit motionless aside from the slight tremble that had begun to overtake her in these past few precious seconds? Why couldn''t she act?


    Elena was a woman who was accustomed to always being in control of every situation. She always knew what had to be done, even if she didn''t like that thing. She was pragmatic in many ways. Like it or not, that was a quality she had inherited from her father. She knew what to do.


    The same applied here. Elena knew the things she had to do. She knew the steps that needed to be taken to contain this before things got out of hand. She needed to bring in Kent immediately so he could deal with the memories of anyone who could not be allowed to remember Paintball¡¯s true identity.


    Paintball¡¯s¡­ identity. It was that thought that made Elena¡¯s eyes open. It was that thought that made her drop the broken pencil and finally stand up.


    She didn''t need to contact Yellowbrick, or ask for a bridge to the hospital. The Touched phone had kept the line to Elena open that entire time, and the bridge was already there and waiting for her.


    In all honesty, only forty seconds had passed. But for someone like Elena Evans, to sit and do nothing for forty seconds in an emergency was completely unthinkable. It might as well have been an eternity.


    The bridge was waiting through the open doorway. First, Elena disguised herself, a thought creating an illusion that would make her look like an older, somewhat matronly blonde woman with slightly graying hair. It was one of several illusions she used that were recognized as Minister White.


    Steadying herself with a deep breath, Elena went through the doorway and crossed the amber bridge with a murmured word of gratitude to Yellowbrick. Then she was on the other side, and exited into the waiting room of the secret hospital. Well, secret floors hidden beneath the regular, public hospital.


    It took everything Elena had right then to keep her voice calm and even as she walked to the nearest nurse, who had immediately spun to face her as soon as she arrived. ¡°Tell me what¡¯s happening.¡±


    The nurse nodded quickly. ¡°Paintball is still alive. Doctor Fennis is in there right now, with his team. The last I heard, they managed to stabilize him. He''s not in good shape, but Silversmith brought him here quickly enough that he should have the best possible chance. They''re doing everything they can.¡±


    Him, she¡¯d said. So this nurse, and probably the others around here who weren''t directly working on¡­ on Paintball, didn''t know the truth, either about her identity or even her gender. And she certainly didn''t have the slightest idea why this mattered so much to the woman in front of her. As far as she was concerned, Minister White, and Silversmith before her, simply wanted to make certain that a useful and important young Star-Touched didn''t end up dying like this.


    Pushing aside the impulse to react in a way that would have exposed far too much, Elena thanked the woman and assured her that the entire staff would receive extra pay for both their work and discretion in this matter. They didn''t want the fact that Paintball had been so badly hurt to get out.


    And speaking of maintaining discretion, Elena should have contacted Kent to come in and be ready to deal with this. But she didn''t. Instead, she left the nurse there, walking briskly down the hall. Once she was out of sight, she changed her disguise to blend in as one of the other nurses. No one would question her disappearance. They were accustomed to the Ministry leaders coming through to get a report in a situation like this and then leaving unexpectedly and without warning. After all, as far as they were concerned, this wasn''t anything personal.


    Suitably disguised, she entered the corridor leading to intensive care. Maybe she couldn''t help her daughter the way that real medical professionals could, and she shouldn''t get in their way. But she could be nearby. She could be as close as possible.


    For the next hour, Elena moved up and down that hallway, listening to what the doctors were saying to one another, listening to the reports. She changed her disguise now and then, enough to avoid standing out. She heard from Sterling, heard about what he had done. Cu¨¦lebre was dead. Good. They would deal with the fallout of that later. But it did mean that he couldn''t be here right now. He had to control the situation out there, and needed her to be here for their daughter.


    Finally, there was no more for the doctors to do. Not for the moment anyway. Their patient needed time. All they could do right then was wait.


    Of course, they would all need to have their memories adjusted. They couldn''t be allowed to go around knowing what Paintball looked like under that helmet. But that was something they had agreed to a long time ago. Every person who worked here had agreed, in exchange for obscene pay and benefits, that there would be times when their memories had to be changed. That would come later though.


    Once the room was empty aside from the girl in question, Elena used the master code on her phone to disable the security monitoring devices and stepped into the room. She locked it behind her, facing the door for another few long seconds before turning to look at the figure in that bed.


    God. She was so small. She was so fragile. Elena¡¯s eyes closed again, while a soft, almost animal-like sound escaped her. It was a sound that made the form in the bed twitch a bit.


    Just like that, Elena was there. Her disguise was gone, as she stood over her daughter''s bed. She saw Cassidy staring up at her, her face bandaged. The girl was heavily sedated, barely conscious. But she saw Elena, and made a soft noise off her own.


    ¡°I''m here.¡± Voice breaking with those two simple words, Elena gently touched what little there was of her daughter¡¯s exposed face. ¡°I''m right here, baby.¡±


    That was when it happened. In that moment, Elena didn¡¯t see relief in her daughter¡¯s eyes. Her baby girl didn¡¯t lean into her touch. After nearly dying, after being so horrifically injured, burned over most of her body by Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s lightning, her child didn¡¯t reach out for her. She wasn¡¯t relieved by her presence.


    She withdrew. Her eyes filled with worry. With fear. She pulled back as if by reflex, gaze flicking to the side.


    Elena knew what she was looking at. The helmet. Paintball¡¯s helmet, sitting on a table nearby where it had been placed. She knew that her identity had been exposed. She knew her parents were aware of the truth, that they knew what she knew.


    Cassidy had almost died, had come within a hair of being killed by Cu¨¦lebre. Her injuries were¡­ severe. And yet, even then, even after such a close call, her reaction to seeing her mother was to pull back, uncertainty--even fear filling her eyes.


    She was more afraid of Elena knowing the truth than she was of almost dying.


    Elena could have taken a knife into the stomach before it was twisted viciously, and it would not have caused more pain than she felt right then. In that moment, she saw Diana. She saw Diana¡¯s face, in those last moments when she had tried to tell Elena she didn¡¯t want to go on that trip. The last moments before she went out to the car anyway, because Elena insisted. That look, the last look Diana had given her was one of resignation. Not for death, but for doing something she didn¡¯t want to do in the first place. She didn¡¯t want to go, and Elena bulldozed over her just because she wanted Diana to be there.


    Diana died because Elena, then only fourteen years old, had put her in a place she never wanted to be.


    In the years following that choice, that failure, that mistake, Elena had often seen Diana¡¯s face in her dreams. A face that began as resigned but shifted quickly to fear. She had imagined the terror in her friend¡¯s eyes, had pictured the recrimination in her gaze.


    Now, all these years later, Elena no longer had to imagine it. Because she saw that very shift in her daughter, her child. She saw the pained resignation right there, and saw it shift to fear, to distrust.


    Her daughter had almost been killed because she didn¡¯t trust her parents, because she didn¡¯t trust her mother. She had gone through¡­ everything over these past weeks, had been dealing with her knowledge about what her family was, all without talking to them about it. She had been so alone, so frightened, so lost, because she was afraid of her own family.


    She was afraid of Elena.


    Reeling physically and emotionally, Elena took a moment before slowly lowering herself to one knee next to that bed. She didn¡¯t reach for her daughter again, but simply left her hand resting next to her. When she spoke, her voice was soft. ¡°You are my principessa. Always. Nothing will change that. And you need never be afraid of your family.¡±


    There was no response at first. Then, Cassidy¡¯s head turned ever so slightly, looking away from her mother. She turned her gaze to stare thoughtfully at the distant wall. Yet, at the same time, her fingers shifted as well. She moved her hand just a bit, enough to touch Elena¡¯s. Her hand was heavily bandaged, but parts of three fingers were exposed, and it was those that she used to wrap around her mother¡¯s hand.


    The two stayed like that, in silence, for some time. The time for talk would come. The time for explanations, apologies, promises, arguments, and so much more. But for now, for that moment, they simply remained motionless, silent, fingers touching.


    More would come, in time.

 Patreon Snippets 36 - SPHERE Edition

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    Welcome, Todd Drakeson (click <u>here</u> to log-out) to the Summus Proelium HERE forums, or SPHERE. It has been (seven hours fifteen minutes) since your previous log-in, and there have been (0/Zero) rule clarifications or updates and (0/Zero) administrator announcements. Click <u>here</u> to read them, and be aware that the system will not allow you to post any replies or make any new topics until you click the button at the bottom of any announcement(s) and rule update(s) acknowledging you have read and understand them.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Pencil (Nick Sanvers) Killed By Cup (Amanda Sanvers) (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    LemonyLand (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on June 2nd, 2020:


    Oh I hope I¡¯m doing this right. It¡¯s my first time setting up an official-type thread for something like this. Right, so! Please use this thread for all the discussions about Nick Sanvers being killed by his own sister, and her subsequent surrender. It was crowding out the thread about the quarantine in general. If you¡¯d like to talk about other criminal activity in Detroit, use <u>this</u> thread.


    For a play by play rundown of the events from start to finish, as they were put together based on various eyewitness accounts, video footage, and official releases, check <u>this</u> blog entry by @Constructicon. And to see an edited version of the stream that went out for the fight between Pencil and Paintball, check <u>here</u>. Don¡¯t ask for footage of Pencil¡¯s death, because if it exists, they haven¡¯t released it. And even if they did, it would be against basically every rule in the book to share it.


    You can also find official statements from the Chief of Police <u>here</u>, the Conservators and Spartans joint release <u>here</u>, and two statements from Ten Towers <u>here</u> and <u>here</u>. On the political side, the Detroit mayor¡¯s office has given a text statement <u>here</u> and a video of the press conference is <u>here</u>. The governor has released her own statement <u>here.</u> I guess more will be added to this post as they come out. For now, try to keep things¡­ maybe respectful isn¡¯t the easiest ask given the subject, but stay within the rules and all that, kay? There¡¯s gonna be at least one mod watching this thread at all times for the next couple days, so just be cool and don¡¯t get yourselves suspended or banned.


    (Showing page 33 of 34, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> CrabScavengersInDisguise


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Sorry, I don''t believe it. I know they keep saying it was real and all, but no. It has to be a trick. It''s a game he''s playing. He made a fake body, or some sort of hologram laid over another body, or something. I don''t know the details, but I know there is not a single chance in hell that Pencil is actually dead. He wouldn''t go down that easily. This whole thing is one big game for him. He''s just waiting for enough people to buy it and then he''s going to pop up again with a brand new massacre just to laugh at all of you. He''s too dangerous.


    ¡ª> BrightFireOfIthax


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I''m with you. Who could ever actually believe this bullshit? His own sister killed him? His own sister who, I might remind you all, is also an irredeemable monster. What are they trying to say, that someone as bad as Cup just randomly grew a conscience and decided to take out her own brother? Are we actually supposed to believe that she was forced into doing all that evil shit? Is that really the story she''s sticking to? Fuck that. She could have put a stop to it at any point. She could have revealed his identity, could have gone somewhere for help, could''ve done plenty of other things, anything really, besides go along with all that killing. Don''t forget all those witnesses who talked about how much she obviously loved every minute of it. She¡¯s worse than him.


    And no, I don¡¯t mean worse than he was, because she definitely didn''t kill the bastard. They have some sort of gross incest stuff going on, and she¡¯s just as into it as he is. No chance would she actually kill him. It''s a game they''re playing, a strategy. They had this whole thing planned out from the start and when it''s over, they''re going to kill even more people and then mock everyone who actually believed that they would turn on each other. I¡¯m saying it right now so I can link to this post later and you can all see it¡¯s not edited: they¡¯re in on this together just to screw with people.


    ¡ª> Sickstalker


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    You''re right about one thing, this is a strategy. But it''s just Cup¡¯s. It''s her trying to escape the consequences for her actions. If anyone would know how to set up his death, it would be her. And she did it just to walk away from what she did. That''s all this is, just her pathetically transparent attempt to get away with everything. She used her brother, got to play super powered serial killer for a while, and now she''s trying to get a free pass.


    ¡ª> OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Trust me, dude, everyone understands that instinct. Pencil was a terrifying piece of shit for a long time. But he wasn''t a god or anything. He lost a lot of his power once his identity was revealed. That kind of broke the aura of mystique he had and made him seem less imposing. Then he handed a lot more power away when he tried to trap Paintball just to prove he was better. He was pissed off about that whole identity thing. So he stopped thinking and let his emotions take over. That''s where he fucked up.


    ¡ª> Fionannoy22


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I mean, honestly, I think the part where he really fucked up was going up against Paintball to begin with. That''s just a bad idea all around. His bright idea for getting his mojo back and making people afraid of him again was trying to fight that ridiculous kid by willingly trapping himself in a room with him? Are we absolutely sure Pencil wasn''t suicidal? I mean, to the point that Cup knew she had to finish the job.


    ¡ª> Ala Carcass


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Yeah, let''s not even suggest that sort of thing. I know that was a joke and all, but still. Especially when we''ve got such a young Touched involved. Imagine what sort of mood the city would be in if he¡¯d actually managed to kill Paintball. I just don''t think we should make jokes about that whole situation in general.


    But yeah, Pencil is definitely dead. They triple-checked the body just to be sure, including running scans for any sort of tricks. Whatever Amanda''s reasons, she really did kill him. I think @Sickstalker is right about her doing all of it just to get away with her crimes. Which is kind of funny if you think about it. I mean, not funny ha ha, but still. Everyone always thought that Pencil was the smart one in that pairing, and that Cup never thought anything through. Now it turns out that she was the one with an actual exit strategy. She was always using him.


    ¡ª> BloodsuckingSector


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Uh yeah, he¡¯s dead. Let¡¯s not give him more power than he deserves. He¡¯s gone and it should be fine to celebrate right now. Come on, after everything he did and everything he was, it''s honestly kind of hilarious that he dies like a punk bitch in the end. He was betrayed by his own sister. Come on, you can''t tell me that''s not hilarious. I mean, in context for who he was and what he did. Turns out he got exactly what he deserved in the end.


    ¡ª> SpeakerOfFables


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    See, I can''t agree with that. I mean, I understand the urge for that sort of thing, but I think what he deserved was to rot in prison. By dying, let alone that quickly, he didn''t actually have to pay back anything. He just got out of the whole situation. He should''ve had to sit in a jail cell for a few decades so people can see how utterly impotent he was in the end. Having him be dead like this just makes all these tired conspiracy theories come out. Look at the people who think he''s not really dead even though they literally have his body. It¡¯s not like he blew up or fell into the ocean, they still have his body right there. We needed to be able to put the son of a bitch on trial and let people see it. We needed to let people look at him in prison to take away that aura of power and mystique.


    ¡ª> AvoidanceLamb


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Okay, gotta agree to disagree on that. I think there¡¯d be too big of a chance for him to escape if he was just arrested. No matter where they put him, he¡¯d have a bunch of monsters trying to break him out. He was basically a god for some of those people. And if they put him on Breakwater with the rest of the Fells, I''m honestly not convinced he wouldn''t have been able to find a way to get all of them out there. Then we wouldn¡¯t just have Pencil and his little band to deal with, we''d have the entire population of Breakwater under his command. Can you imagine what they could do?


    ¡ª> JoggingZombieIX


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    See, that''s exactly what we mean when we say his mystique is too much. He was dangerous and a monster, yes. He had a very useful power for that, sure. Especially when no one knew how the power worked. But there''s no way in hell he would even be the top threat on Breakwater, let alone be able to make all of them listen to him. Have you read about some of the people on there? At worst, he''d put a few of them together into a new gang to play with on the island. He could probably pull that off. But organizing all of them? Not a chance. And he definitely wouldn¡¯t magically find a way to leave. If it was possible to escape, there''s much stronger and more dangerous people on that island who would have managed it already.


    I totally get that he''s scary, but we need to have a sense of perspective. If he was put on that island, he would have been staying there for the rest of his life. Though all of that is a moot point now.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Pencil (Nick Sanvers) Killed By Cup (Amanda Sanvers) (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    (Showing page 34 of 34, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> FlowerOfBeauty


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    It sure is! So why don''t we get back to what the actual point of this thread became? Remember, we really shouldn¡¯t be focusing on Pencil, or on how big of a threat he was. He''s gone now, so it doesn''t matter. We should be talking about the other person in the thread title: Cup. As in, what''s going to happen to her now? Especially since it turns out she was responsible for Sleeptalk. Which means she managed to shut down one of the biggest cities in the country and paralyzed like half the Stars and Shields organizations. What the hell are they going to do with her? That¡¯s what I want to know.


    ¡ª> HeavenSketch


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    I mean, doesn''t that seem obvious? We were just talking about Breakwater. Come on, if she was responsible for Sleeptalk, it means she''s responsible for every single person who died because of it. Not to mention everything she''s already done. She would''ve had a slam dunk Breakwater case even before all this happened. Now that it has and she¡¯s been exposed for being behind that? There''s no question at all. She belongs in Breakwater. Drop her out of an airplane as it¡¯s flying over, let her figure out how to craft a parachute on the way down, and be done with her.


    ¡ª> LaughingLad


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    There''s no way it''s that simple. She also gave up the cure for it, remember? She wouldn''t have done that without getting some agreements in writing. And the very first agreement that she would have made was that she will not be sent to Breakwater. She made a plea agreement with them. She''s probably going to be put in some sort of protective custody. You know, a cushy five star hotel experience where she can relax and laugh at all the people who thought she might actually pay for her crimes. She had something the people in charge needed, so she was able to leverage that into getting a free pass for everything else. That''s just how the world works. Don''t expect the bad people to actually pay for what they do and you won''t be disappointed. At best, you can be pleasantly surprised during those very few times when it actually happens.


    ¡ª> Woodywoodeater


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    I don''t want to be quite that negative, but seriously, Cup definitely isn''t going to pay for her crimes. I wouldn''t be surprised if the government starts making even more deals with her. I mean, why not? If they already have her in custody, they can convince her to use her power to make more stuff for them. All they have to do is find something else she wants, some sort of creature comfort, and tell her that they will give it to her in exchange for more Touched-Tech.


    ¡ª> MinimumLuthor


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Well that just sounds really dumb. Who would be stupid enough to give someone like that equipment and tools to build stuff? That''s just begging to end badly. Oh right, it''s the government. Of course they''re that stupid. Dammit, that''s gonna happen. She''ll be back out on the streets doing anything she wants within a couple months, I bet you anything.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Minority Thread Forty-Six (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    Berryonalake (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on June 1st, 2020


    It¡¯s a new month, so it¡¯s time for a new thread. We realize this is a rather chaotic time in both the city and the Minority in general, but let¡¯s try to stay positive about our favorite teen heroes in Detroit! At least, the ones who are still considered heroes.


    As always, the prior threads can be found archived <u>here</u> if you¡¯d like to see what you missed or go through memories. Other than that, be sure to follow the rules. I say this every time, but it bears repeating, especially now, these are minors. It¡¯s right there in the team name for a reason..


    The current membership details of the Detroit Minority can be found <u>here</u>


    (Showing page 3 of 5, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> HoolaHoops


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I''m telling you guys, there''s no way any parents or guardians of any teen Touched are going to volunteer to move them here. Not a chance in hell. Not with the way the city has been lately. Things just keep getting worse. No one is going to volunteer to bring their children here with everything that''s been happening. Especially when you add in the whole Whamline thing. Who the hell would trust the people in charge of the Detroit Minority when they didn''t even know that one of their members was an evil, murderous piece of shit? They put him on a team with innocent teenagers. No one is going to trust their verification and background research process anymore. Not until they do a lot of deep cleaning.


    ¡ª> Steampunk Mechanoid


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I mean, that''s a fair point. It''s kind of hard to believe they could be on top of things when they let someone like that be on the team for so long. Who knows what else they could have missed? Or what kind of problems they might miss in the future. If I had a kid who had super powers, I wouldn¡¯t want them to be on that team. Hell, look at Skip. She''s a teenager and they don''t have her on the Minority. They just put her with the regular Ten Towers team.


    ¡ª> PalaceHearth


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Sure, but that''s because her sister runs the whole thing. So that''s kind of cheating. Besides, we''re talking about them reaching out to established Touched all across the country and actively recruiting. Do you guys honestly think that there''s absolutely no guardians out there who would either want their kids to help put the city back together, or would just want the attention and fame for doing so? It could be altruistic reasons, or selfish reasons. Either way, I¡¯m just saying, they''ll have plenty of offers. There''s absolutely no way the slot on the minority stays empty for very long.


    ¡ª> AProtectionRacket


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Speaking of slots being empty, don''t we lose at least one other pretty soon? I think Syndicate is supposed to graduate before too long. I mean, obviously we don''t know how old he is (they are?) for certain, but I''m pretty sure it''s close. If he does graduate and head off to one of the adult teams, that¡¯ll be two empty slots. With everything that''s going on, they can''t possibly expect a team consisting of That-A-Way, Carousel, Wobble, Raindrop, and Fragile to deal with everything. Seriously, two of them are kids! Actual kids. No way the adults will leave them on their own like that. They''ll be aggressively recruiting from outside the city. And yeah, they¡¯ll definitely be able to convince some parents somewhere to bring their teenagers here. Even if they have to offer big incentives.


    ¡ª> FiefdomOfFeelings


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    That''s true, and there''s another side to it as well. They recruit into the adult teams from the Minority. So they¡¯ll want to have as many choices as they can get. They want teen Touched to have a lot of training and experience in the city so they can move up into the big leagues easily. It''s like having a minor league sports team. Well, a minor league team that gets into life and death situations, but still. It''s the same general idea. They''ll want to have some more Touched with actual experience working in the city and getting to know how everything works before moving them into one of the main organizations like the Conservators or the Spartans. Putting them on the Minority is the best way to do that. Yeah, it''s dangerous. Everyone already knew that, and it''s only gotten worse. But that doesn''t change the facts. There are always going to be parents or guardians who will look past that for whatever reason. Pretty soon we''re going to see at least two more members added to our Minority.


    ¡ª> Paragone


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I was going to say that they could just start recruiting from one of the other teen groups, like Avant-Guard, but I guess that would kind of leave the same overall number of Star-Touched. They''d just be shuffled around a little bit, so unhelpful. On the other hand, hey what if they try recruiting some of the younger Fells who haven''t done anything too bad. There''s Clime on that Sherwood gang. She doesn''t seem like a monster. She''s just sort of an airheaded hippy girl. I bet they could convince her that working with them will help the planet more. Plus, her powers are really cool. I bet she''d be nice if they could get her away from those other people.


    ¡ª> Hermetican Beer


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Dude, that would be so cool. Seriously, why don''t the people in charge offer those teen Fells the opportunity to work off their crimes on the Minority so they don''t have to go to Juvie? It''s a win-win for everyone. And it''s not just Clime either. Look at people like Pack or Eits over on La Casa. Sure, they''ve stolen things, but they don''t seem like total monsters. They''ve even helped Avant-Guard a few times. Why wouldn''t they jump at the chance to have their records fixed so they can go over to the Stars side for real and not have to worry about landing in prison for the shit they''ve done?


    ¡ª> Todd Drakeson (You)


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Um, to be honest, probably for the same reasons that they didn''t join the Minority to begin with. They''re criminals. I mean, sure, they''re not psychopaths or anything. They¡¯re not out there killing people at the drop of a hat. But they''re still criminals. And for the ones on La Casa, they probably make a hell of a lot more money working for Blackjack than they would as part of the Minority. As for Clime, she''s one of those true believers. There''s no chance in hell she would actually believe that working for the government would be a better place for her to save the planet.That¡¯s not how they think.


    ¡ª> Marconi''s S


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I guess you have a point there, cool as it would be to see some of those guys join the Minority for real. But if that''s not going to happen, then we should focus on possible recruits from outside the city. Now that they''ve got the cure for Sleeptalk and the quarantine is supposed to be coming down, they''re definitely going to start looking for those replacements. They''ll want to bring the city back on track so we can get tourists here as soon as possible (and yeah, I think we all heard the Ninety-Niners start screaming the second I wrote that). So, looking at different Minority teams all across the country, who do you think are the most likely to get transferred over to Detroit? After all, we may have our problems, but don''t forget that Detroit is still considered one of the best places for Touched-Tech development. Not to mention having a top-tier economy in general thanks to all the manufacturing we''ve got here. With Sleeptalk taken care of, they''re gonna get all of that back on track. I wouldn''t be surprised if they make arrangements to raise the salaries and other benefits for the Star-Touched here, Minority and otherwise. To go back to the sports analogy, Detroit is like the Lakers. They''ll definitely be able to bring in some good names just by throwing offers at them.


    ¡ª> StriderOfTheSphere


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Dude, now I know you''re an old guy. The Lakers have sucked for over a decade. They never recovered after that Collision Point in 2009 completely wrecked half the team. Now everyone thinks it''s bad luck to go there. Besides, where is your hometown pride? You should have brought up the Pistons. They''re the ones who¡¯re going all the way this year. Two weeks to a new championship, baby. And for those keeping track, that would mean we¡¯ll have won top prize in the Prev NBA and Touched basketball too. How lucky was it that our boys were on a road trip when the quarantine came down? They had to play distracted this whole time and they''re still about to win it all.


    End of Page. <u>1</u>, <u>2</u>, 3, <u>4</u>, <u>5</u>


    [][][][][][]


    <> Topic ¡ª Minority Thread Forty-Six (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    (Showing page 4 of 5, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    Anyway, uh, just to actually stay on the real topic, I''ve been hanging out in the Minnesota forum a little bit, and they''ve got this guy called Flashflak. He can throw away these little metal ball things that explode into thousands of tiny pellets flying in every direction. But the thing is, each pellet can only have active damage to one thing. So whenever he explodes one of his bombs and it does a bunch of damage, if he throws another bomb and uses all the pellets again, then the damage the first bomb did is completely erased. Which includes damage to people.


    Basically, if he throws his ball thing and explodes it right in front of someone, it could tear them apart. Then someone takes the time to put handcuffs on the body, he throws the bomb again and lets it damage something else, and suddenly the person he hit is completely fine again. But they¡¯re handcuffed. He''s only like fifteen or something like that, so we''d have him for a few years. I think he''d be a really cool addition. Who knows what other power stunts he could come up with. Especially if he can control where the pellets go.


    ¡ª> Crematen


    Replied on June 7th, 2020


    I mean, sure, that sounds cool. But what makes you think he''d want to leave Minnesota? Personally, I think we''re going to have more trouble with that. The only people who are going to want to leave their own teams are those who are only in it to make a name for themself, or the people who are in trouble where they are. After what happened with Whamline, do we really want to take a chance on a new member who has disciplinary problems? Besides, how effective could they be if they have to come learn everything about the city? They''d probably take months to get up to speed, or even a year. Then you have to add in the fact that the Niners would totally see them as a fair target.


    ¡ª> Todd Drakeson (You)


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Okay, yeah, the Niners would absolutely go after them. But you could say the same thing about any new Touched who comes in, no matter how old they are. The Ninety-Niners hate outsiders, period. That''s just something that anyone new is gonna have to deal with. And I''m pretty sure they accept younger people easier than older ones. That''s what my friend said anyway, and he spent some time in their territory. So someone coming in to join the Minority would have an easier time than any of the adult Touched. Besides, let''s not forget that the Niners happen to be fucking criminals anyway, so we really shouldn''t care about their opinions.


    ¡ª> JKagger


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    It''s not about caring what those assholes think, it''s about making sure that any teenage Touched who comes here knows what they''re getting into. There''s a lot going on in this place even before you add in one of the main gangs hating them just for their presence. So if we do get anyone new for the Minority, they need to be on top of things. They need to be the best of the best if they¡¯re gonna hit the ground running like they¡¯d need to. And what established, skilled, powerful Touched teenager like that is going to want to uproot their entire life and come live in Detroit just so they can risk their lives even more. With all that in mind, it¡¯s just far more likely that we get a problem Touched.


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Hey guys, I didn''t just bring up Flashflak for no reason. Of course it''s going to be hard to attract new young Touched here. Especially the ones with real skills who don''t have discipline problems. But this guy doesn''t really get along with his team. There''s no disciplinary problem, just a clash of personalities. All the people over there know he''s been looking for another team to join. He just needed an opening. And this is the best one he''s gonna get anytime soon. He''ll be able to come in and make a real name for himself, and show that he can get along with others who aren¡¯t his current team. Yeah, we might have our problems, but we''re still one of the best cities in the country, Sleeptalk be damned. That''s just one little hiccup. Well, sure okay, a really big hiccup. But we dealt with it. And now that NICKY is dead, that''s another threat off the board. This is a good time for someone like him to come in and show what he''s got.


    ¡ª> BabblingSpriggan


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Well, I never get to be the one to do this, but you should all go check out the announcement post on the official Detroit Minority site. Turns out that guy was right. Flashflak really is being brought in to join our Minority. But they''ve also got two others, a couple I don''t think anyone''s ever even heard of. They''re definitely not on any of the established teams unless I missed them somewhere when I was trying to Google the names and powers. Check it out. Has anyone even heard of them?


    Edit: OK, fine, I guess I should actually paste the information about them for those who don''t want to click. Here¡¯s the three new members of the Minority


    Flashflak - creates handheld bombs whose previous damage is erased whenever a new bomb is exploded.


    Yeet - creates glowing balls which transform the target into energy and send it in a single direction.


    Facsimile - creates solid energy duplicates of any object he touches.


    ¡ª> Anonymoton


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Okay, looking at that, it''s obvious that Yeet and Flashflak are related, right? Must be brothers or something. Which, if Yeet hasn''t been on the Minority with his brother already, must mean he''s really new to all this. Which would also explain why no one''s heard of him. As for the other one, making energy copies of things could be cool, but can he make them move after that? I mean, making an energy duplicate of a chair or a truck or something doesn''t seem that helpful if he can''t do anything with them after that. It could be pretty limited.


    ¡ª> Mach3


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Just a quick correction for you. Yeet is a girl. If you look at the actual announcement, they use she and her whenever they talk about her, and he and him for the other two. So we''re getting two guys and a girl for the team. From the sound of things, Yeet and Facsimile are on the younger side. Maybe they all come from the same place. If Yeet is Flashflak¡¯s little sister, Facsimile could be her friend or boyfriend or something. That could work. I mean, if they could convince their families to move together. And if they all know each other, it''ll probably be easier to start out in a new place like this.


    Or maybe they''re not related at all and the similar powers is just a coincidence. Either way, getting three new Touched, even if two of them are completely untested and we don''t know anything about them, is really good. I feel like we¡¯ll need them too. Say what you will about Pencil being gone, but I''m pretty sure that''s just going to attract even more Fells now that the quarantine has been dropped. Or, you know, will be very soon. Either because they think it''s safer here now that the Scions aren''t around, or because they want to come in and fill their spot. There''s gonna be all sorts of psychopaths trying to prove themselves.


    ¡ª> FullBass


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    I don''t disagree with your overall point, but could you maybe change that P word? Mental health is a touchy enough subject as it is without tying psychological instability with people who are intentionally choosing to be violent monsters. And that''s something that bugs me in general media too. Yes, some of them have legitimate issues with that sort of thing, but still. There are plenty of people who take their meds and are just fine. Especially in a thread about teenage superheroes, I just don''t think we should be contributing to the general stigma against mental health, that''s all. Thanks!


    Anyway, let''s talk about something even more important. Namely, why does the Minority still not have any TONIs? Three brand new members, and not a single animal friend? For shame. There must''ve been at least one somewhere out there in the world that they could''ve recruited. I¡¯m just saying, I''d like to have a real superhero pupper to root for. The only TONI dog around that gets any attention is Shovel, and he''s a very, very bad boy. If he''s even still in the city. I heard he''s like one of the last Scions who didn''t get arrested with the rest of them. But now he could be anywhere. Maybe he''s keeping his head down until all the heat blows over.


    ¡ª> SirAnthonyWatcher


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Personally, I''d prefer a cat TONI. or something really exotic that you don''t see in the city that often. Like a rhinoceros. Can you imagine a rhino running around as a member of the Minority? I don''t even care what other powers they would have. It¡¯d just be fucking cool to have a rhino TONI here in Detroit. Though I guess they¡¯d either have to choose to transfer from another country, or be one of those zoo animal TONIs that happen sometimes. And now I want to commission someone to make a picture of a rhino in a superhero costume.


    Actually, speaking of which, what kind of costumes do you think those new kids are gonna have? Facsimile and Yeet I mean, since Flashflak already has one. Though I guess he could decide to change it up to a new city? Either way, what do you think those other two are going to look like? They can''t have costumes already, or the announcement would''ve come with pictures. So they must be completely new to this. And I hope they get some help from the Ten Towers people. They''ve got a better sense of style. And deeper pockets for it.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Minority Thread Forty-Six (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Touched-Teams ¨C Heroes)


    (Showing page 5 of 5, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> MarsSpider


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Are we sure that these other two, Facsimile and Yeet, aren''t established Touched being repackaged with new names and identities? Has anyone looked at any teen Fells from across the country to see if there''s anything close to a match? I mean, we know for a fact that they like to give young Fells a chance to switch sides and pay off their debt to society by being Stars in a new area that might not know them that well. That would explain how they could come out of nowhere and join the Minority. Or maybe they''re actually from another country entirely. That happens sometimes too, doesn''t it?


    End of Page. <u>1</u>, <u>2</u>, <u>3</u>, <u>4,</u> 5


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    <> Topic ¡ª Garden Of Badb Spotted In Detroit (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on June 8th, 2020


    Yes, it turns out the rumors spreading through the Quarantine thread and a few others were true. We have official sources confirming that members of the Garden of Badb, including Badb herself, have appeared in Detroit. It¡¯s currently unknown what their exact business here is, who they may be targeting, or what they hope to accomplish. We will add more details as they come in. For now, be aware that it seems to have been this group who were responsible for the attempted attack on the medical facility where the now-completed cure for Sleeptalk is rumored to have been worked on. See more about that situation by checking out <u>this</u> thread.


    In the meantime, please keep most speculation about this situation relegated to this thread except where relevant to the thread in question. If you¡¯d like to know more about the Garden of Badb, check their thread <u>here</u>


    (Showing page 11 of 12, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> HoolaHoops


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Of course, because after everything that''s happened in this damn city over the past couple of months, what we really needed was the fucking Garden of Badb fuckers to show up and start their fight club bullshit. Couldn''t they have picked another city to migrate to? I''m just saying, it would have been nice to get through at least one goddamn week after the quarantine was lifted before a new problem decided to present itself. Instead, we couldn''t even through one single day. Hell, technically they started shit before the quarantine has even officially been lifted at all. FML.


    ¡ª> Emanater


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Well, if it makes you feel any better, the way those people tend to gradually ramp things up, I wouldn''t expect anything big to happen for a while. I did a college report on those guys and they can usually take a couple weeks, or even a month, before they really start what they call their tests. They want to fight strong opponents, so they do their research. They put out spies and shit to find out not only who some good people to pull into their matches would be, but how to convince them to actually fight and try to win. You know, rewards they can offer, blackmail they can use, any sort of incentive.


    ¡ª> KoryBrand


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Hold on, what do you by matches? Sorry, I''ve barely heard of these people. Aren''t they some sort of religious cult or something? I''ve only ever seen them mentioned alongside groups like that. I thought they were just some assholes who go around praising the Orb and making up stupid little ceremonies devoted to worshiping the thing. The way you guys are talking, it makes it sound like they''re playing fight club. What are they going to do in Detroit, start forcibly putting people into the ring to make them punch each other just for the hell of it? How far do they go with that?


    ¡ª> CultureClubber


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    I''m not sure, I never really looked into them too much myself, but I''ve gotta say, Bad B makes it sound like they want to say Bad Bitches but they''re afraid of being censored or something. Really not the first thing that would jump into my mind as the name of some sort of badass, dangerous group of bare knuckle fighters who are gonna be the next big threat around the city. Sure, Bad Bitches wouldn''t be a good name even before you add in the censoring, but with it, they just sound silly. And then you add in the whole Garden thing? Yeah, maybe they''re a real threat, but I just can''t take it seriously. Can anyone tell me why we should?


    ¡ª> EnemyOfTheGoose


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Well, see, you''re making some assumptions there that you probably shouldn''t. They don''t call themselves Bad B. That''s not how you pronounce it. They''re named after their founder and leader, Badb. The name is pronounced like ¡®Bive¡¯, basically. So it¡¯s the Garden of Bive. The mythological Badb was an Irish war goddess who could transform into a crow. The Touched version is this woman who can transform anyone''s blood in these bird shapes and make them move around. When she sends the blood back into the person, it changes them back to the exact physical shape they were in when she took the blood. So she can take blood from a couple people before a fight, let them kick the living crap out of each other and go all out, then give them that blood back so they''re perfectly fine again.


    Oh and she can do some other stuff with it too, I''m not too sure about the details, but I know she always has a huge swarm of blood birds all around her. And a lot of them are from her own blood. If anything happens to her, one of her blood birds will just fly up and completely heal her again automatically, even if she¡¯s incapacitated. So it''s hard to make anything stick.


    ¡ª> Paragone


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Wait, so hold on, they pull people into these fights, but then they can just undo all the damage that''s done? Because it sounds like you''re saying there''s no permanent injuries or death or anything like that. If this Badb chick just takes their blood before a fight and then heals them afterward, what''s the big deal? Not to sound callous or anything, I get that just fighting and being injured could be traumatizing or whatever, but in the grand scheme of things, that doesn''t sound too bad. Just compared to the sort of shit that Touched scene to get involved with anyway. I''ve definitely heard of worse situations.


    Anyway, they pull in both Stars and Fells for these tournaments, right? OK, so you know for a fact that Sandon is going to be involved in this. It''s a no-brainer. They''re outsiders and she''s part of the group that hates those. Hell, she''s the leader of that group. So you know she really hates those people. She''d want to fight them anyway. And they all want her because her whole thing is being super strong. Actually, I bet they''ve got some strength-based Touched in their little cult that she''d want to grab a bone or two from to enhance her own power. If it comes down to that, are we supposed to root for her or them? Maybe we could root for a giant meteor to come down and wipe all of them out?


    ¡ª> ABSOLUTELY!


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Yeah, I''d definitely be on team meteor in that situation. Although if she really does heal the people after making them fight, I guess I could root for her gang against Sandon. I¡¯m just saying, the last time I checked, the Ninety-Niners don''t heal the damage they do to people after picking a fight with them. Besides, getting pissed about people moving to Detroit after the year 2000 is just such a stupid and pointless motivation. The city is so much better now than it was back then. I can say that as someone who was actually old enough to have tried to get a real job in the early 90s around here. And yes, before anyone asks, saying that does make me realize that I¡¯m fucking old. As we speak, I''m disintegrating into dust and blowing away.


    Anyway, do those morons really want to go back to a time when this place was falling apart and couldn''t even sustain basic services? Because if they do, maybe they should move to Pittsburgh or something.


    ¡ª> AttacksInDarkness


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Okay, I''m not sure why Pittsburgh is catching strays there, but sure. And you''re right about the rest of it. The Niners seem to want all the benefits of the city being turned around with our economy, our new manufacturing centers, and everything else, but they don''t want any new people to move here. Which is just moronic. You need more people if you''re going to have a bigger economy. I don''t think they''ve thought any of that out, to be honest. They just seem like pretty angry people in general.


    And as far as the actual subject of the thread goes, I''m pretty sure there''s more to the tournaments these Badb people set up. There''s something about the motivations and rewards they offer. Can anyone else chime in with actual details about all that?


    ¡ª> KA12Audrius


    Replied on June 8th, 2020


    Hey, we just had the huge emotional arc with people being sick, the city being locked down, and one of the main villains in the city, Pencil himself, being taken out for good. Now we''re literally having a tournament arc? When did we start living in a manga?


    Honestly, I''m only sort of half-joking about that. Seriously though, I think one of the big problems with the Garden of Badb is that they offer bad things to people who win their tournaments. Sure, they''ll heal the damage done to everyone regardless, but to motivate Fells to fight, they offer them rewards that could be really bad for other people. They held one tournament in Albuquerque, and the reward that one of the fighters won was this bit of stolen Touched-Tech that turned them from a mediocre gang into one of the biggest threats in the entire state. And there''s other potential bad things too, like secret identities, knowledge of weaknesses, taking enemies away from them for good so they''ll never be a problem again, and more. Seriously, they offer big rewards to both good guys and bad guys, and they don''t particularly care who wins. They just want to make a good show.


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    <> Private Messages From Escher


    Escher: 33252 4734 2014 93 93532 2356230 2353252 03052352 623532 0032532 6234532 253245 21421412 0234532 862305 23623420 53125312 32523421 99392 512341 0124214 2194125 2512509 756317 932572342 1294512451 93529342 8123421 45623 23959124 095141 862934523 9591324123 625324523 04515 056234052 6234512 05329?


    Todd Drakeson: 2351213 0923523 195219 623451324 0512412 623549239 145 050234 8623523 9100 52352 8692359 571238451 5623523 92935231 3524529 562341995 623452345 932956523 3295239452 65326230 1256161 236293945


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    Todd Drakeson: 032584528 1251259109 65123591289 5613951929 06013518 63252030 3562352 73456343 2352352 92962399 62577679 112510 626200 992357 790231 0023135 2415 9239 901775


    5193459817 2362300 1561680 156679920 2352388 23523452 88918 50917 952352 99620 1421569 729820


    (DECRYPTED VERSION OF MESSAGES)


    Escher: Simon, I take it you''ve heard about the newcomers. We have one of them requesting a meeting. It sounds like they''re willing to at least make a show of playing along with our rules. They¡¯ll pay the taxes for coming into the city and starting their tournament. You have the most contact with your parents right now. How do they want to handle things?


    Todd Drakeson: They said this isn''t the right time to pick a fight with a new group if they''re going to follow the rules. But we''ll see how that goes. Tell their representative that we¡¯ll meet with them and decide on some ground rules. But how did they know to reach out, exactly?


    Escher: It seems that Pittman had contacted them before and attempted to recruit them to serve as soldiers for his attempted coup here. They refused, but when Detroit ended up in the news, they decided to pay a visit anyway. Do the Ms still want to set up a meeting?


    Todd Drakeson: Yes, now more than ever. We need to find out exactly what Pittman said to them, and why they''re really here. They don''t believe that these people showing up so soon after his death is just a coincidence. We need to speak to them face to face.


    Something else is going on here, and we can''t afford to be taken by surprise again. We deal with this up front, one way or another


    ---------------------------------


    True Identities In Order Of Appearance With Note Of Being Canon Character Or Reader


    Todd Drakeson - (Canon) - Simon Evans


    LemonyLand - (Reader) - skyeLime


    CrabScavengersInDisguise (Reader) - Three Cremlings In A Trenchcoat


    BrightFireOfIthax (Reader) - PrometheusDarkflame


    Sickstalker (Reader) - Plaguehunter


    OnceWereWarriors (Reader) - Tamahori


    Fionannoy22 (Reader) - fionag11


    Ala Carcass (Reader) - Abra Cadaver


    BloodsuckingSector (Reader) - Zoneleech


    SpeakerOfFables (Reader) - Storyteller


    AvoidanceLamb (Reader) - sheep-dodger


    JoggingZombieIX (Reader) - DeadmanwalkingXI


    FlowerOfBeauty (Reader) - Liliet


    HeavenSketch (Reader) - CelestialDrafts


    LaughingLad (Reader) - ChucklingBoy


    Woodywoodeater (Reader) - Termite


    MinimumLuthor (Reader) - maxlex


    Berryonalake (Reader) - Pondincherry


    HoolaHoops (Canon) - Wobble


    Steampunk Mechanoid (Reader) - Clockwork Automaton


    PalaceHearth (Reader) - Hestia And The Court


    AProtectionRacket (Reader) - Safety System


    FiefdomOfFeelings (Reader) - Touch Dom


    Paragone (Canon) - Arleigh/Clime


    Hermetican Beer (Reader) - Trismegistus Shandy


    Marconi''s S (Canon) - Broadway


    StriderOfTheSphere (Reader) - WalkerOfTheWorlds/Mikato1


    Flaboran (Reader) - Blaforan


    Crematen (Reader) - Nematrec


    JKagger (Reader) - KJakker


    BabblingSpriggan (Reader) - DeliriousSprite


    Anonymoton (Reader) - AliasBot


    Mach3 (Reader) - Tumach


    FullBass (Reader) - TotalTreble


    SirAnthonyWatcher (Reader) - Giles


    MarsSpider (Reader) - Ziggy Stardust


    4D-Daniel (Reader) - danel4d


    Emanater (Reader) - Emitter


    KoryBrand (Reader) - BrandonCorey


    CultureClubber (Canon) - Pack


    EnemyOfTheGoose (Reader) - Duckfan


    ABSOLUTELY! (Reader) - NO!


    AttacksInDarkness (Reader) - lightdefender


    KA12Audrius (Reader) - audriuska12


    Escher (Canon) - Alcazar

 To The Races 32-01

    My parents were awake! They were conscious and aware, and no longer affected by that stupid Sleeptalk shit. They had been cured. No more daydream comas for them. It was finally, finally over. Well, that part of it anyway. There was still plenty of other stuff to deal with--more than I even wanted to think about honestly. But my parents were safe. After all this time, after so many feelings of hopeless despair and fear, after all the time I had spent worrying that they would never wake up, it was finally over. They were fully conscious and capable of knowing what was going on. In fact, the cure had been so effective that it was like they had never been affected at all. Was that intentional? Had Sleeptalk deliberately been made so that it could be cured without any lingering effects? Part of me thought that made sense, especially if Pittman and Amanda had wanted to be able to prove how effective that cure was once the time came to administer it. At the very least, I didn¡¯t think it had been an accident.


    Of course, the doctors weren''t exactly satisfied with that. At least, they didn''t simply wave and tell my parents to head out and have a good life. No, there wasn¡¯t a chance in hell that they were just going to leave it that way. They weren''t going to let them leave the hospital just yet. For all the money, influence, and other power my parents might have had, they were unable to make the doctors budge on that fact. Sterling and Elena Evans would be staying in the hospital for at least another few days under observation, just to be on the safe side.


    Actually, in this particular case, having all that money and power probably worked against them, to be honest. The hospital wasn''t going to take the chance that those two could potentially relapse or show other traumatic side effects. Not only would that reflect badly on them (and probably have legal ramifications of some sort), but it would also hamper future investments. My family probably contributed at least half of all the money the Seraphs here in Detroit had relied on for the past ten years. They had an entire building of the campus named after them. So yeah, these doctors were going to take every precaution possible when it came to my family. And to be honest, I couldn''t disagree. They should go ahead and run every possible test they could think of.


    Oh, sure, I wanted my parents to be home. I wanted everything to go back to--well, not normal. It couldn''t actually be normal, not with all the stuff I knew, and what they didn''t know. But at the very least, it could go back to the normal we''d had before all this Sleeptalk stuff. I wanted to see my parents back home where they belonged. As for the rest of it, we could simply go from there. One step at a time. And the current step was making sure they were actually completely cured. The last thing we needed was for it to look like they were safe and then have Dad pass out in the middle of a meeting.


    Or worse, while he was out in the field as Silversmith. That was a thought that sent a shudder through me. If he was out fighting Cu¨¦lebre and fell asleep, it¡­ no. No, that wouldn''t happen. The doctors were going to be certain of that before releasing them.


    On the other hand, while my parents might not have been able to go home that night the way they might¡¯ve wanted to, they insisted that we do so. Once we had some time with them, the doctors wanted to run more tests, and it was getting pretty late. Beyond late, really. They insisted we go home and get some actual sleep. And from their tones, it was clear this wasn''t something to argue with. We were not to spend the night at the hospital waiting for them. We were to go home and sleep in our own beds. The next day, we could come back and find out more about what was going on.


    And speaking out the next day, even as Simon was driving us home, with Izzy and me whispering to each other in the back, I got a text on my phone from the school. It was a message letting me know that they had been notified that my parents were conscious, and they didn''t expect me to show up for finals the next day. Or rather, later today, given it was after midnight by that point. Yeah, that was a relief. I absolutely wouldn¡¯t have been able to take those tests. Given how tired I would probably be at that point, I might¡¯ve tried to eat the paper.


    Fortunately, we wouldn¡¯t have to find out. The school gave me a make up schedule, pushing my finals back a couple days. They were supposed to be on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday to finish out the school year. In my case, and presumably others whose family members were being woken up, like Paige, they were allowing us to skip Monday and Tuesday, and actually take the finals Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Then we would be done with the school year.


    Thank God, that was one thing I didn''t have to worry about. Though, to be entirely honest, I hadn''t really thought about finals at all since the moment I¡¯d gotten the text from Simon that our parents were about to be woken up. It had completely slipped my mind. Now I would have a couple days before needing to focus on not failing out of school. Go me.


    I also had messages from Paige, letting me know that Irelyn was not only awake as well, but also out of the hospital. Apparently she hadn''t been deemed a big enough risk to be forced to stay. Or maybe she had simply been more insistent about leaving. After all, she didn¡¯t have quite the level of risk for the hospital that my parents did.  Either way, she was out. And, more importantly, actually aware of what Paige was. Plus she knew about Sierra. Which was a whole other can of worms. They hadn''t told her about my true identity, or anything like that. But they did tell her about the Ministry. They told her the truth about all that.


    Good, after everything she had been through, after everything that happened to her because we had been keeping all those secrets, she deserved to know at least that much of the truth. I had no idea what was going to come from that, what she would do with that information, but I did know that she deserved it. We would deal with whatever came when it happened. There was no sense in obsessing over it right now. Especially not when I was already this emotionally overwhelmed and physically tired.


    Which, to be honest, probably had something to do with my overall ¡®sure whatever¡¯ reaction. There was a part of me, a very quiet and exhausted part, that was screaming in the back of my head about how dangerous this was. But I just couldn¡¯t focus on that now. It was done with. Irelyn knew, and I couldn¡¯t exactly stop her from knowing.


    And speaking of being tired, Paige also informed me that there was some sort of situation with another gang that I had missed while sitting around the hospital, but people were dealing with it already. I didn''t have the energy to even think about that too much. To be entirely honest, the very thought of suiting up and running out there to try to help would have been overwhelming even if this situation hadn''t happened hours earlier. No, there was nothing for me to do about that now. It was over and I would get more details later. Maybe when I could actually see straight.


    There were probably other things I could''ve done, other ways I could''ve helped, even if it was just by going on a quick patrol while the other Stars were busy cleaning up after what had happened. But it just wasn''t going to happen tonight. I sent back a couple messages letting her and the others know that I was out for the night and that my parents were safe. Then I put my phone away as Simon pulled into the garage. He turned in the seat to look back at us, seeming to pause as though trying to put his thoughts together. Finally, he offered a weak shrug. ¡°At least they''re awake, right? Relax, get some sleep. I mean, do your best. We¡¯ll go visit them as soon as the doctors say it¡¯s okay tomorrow.¡± His finger rose to point at us. ¡°And it''s probably going to be a long day, so how about you two try to get some actual sleep instead of staying up all night giggling about boys or whatever you do in there.¡±


    My eyes rolled at that and I kicked the back of his seat. ¡°Yeah, I think we''re all good on that front. You try to keep your music low enough that it doesn''t shake the entire house so we can actually get some of that sleep.¡± With that, I stepped out of the car, with Izzy right behind me.


    The two of us grabbed a snack from the kitchen, then headed for my room. We would be going to sleep soon, tired as we were. But we were still just a little too wound up to crash immediately. Besides, I still had to talk to her about what Paige had said. We couldn¡¯t exactly talk about that in the car, not even in whispers.


    So, we sat on my bed, eating pretzels while I went through all of that. She was worried about what would happen with Irelyn too, but agreed that there was no sense in obsessing over it for the moment.


    Apparently she¡¯d also received a message about some sort of fight going on. Her message explained that it had something to do with the people who had attacked that other lab and tried to destroy the cure before. Which, honestly, was the one thing I¡¯d heard about the whole situation that actually made me feel tempted to go out after all. Maybe that was why Paige hadn''t told me that part of it.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Part of me felt a little annoyed about that, but I pushed that feeling down. It was stupid. Of course she wouldn''t want me to focus on that when my parents had just woken up. And if I had tried to go out there to help, I wouldn¡¯t have been focused on it anyway. Not to mention coming up with an excuse to leave right then would''ve been incredibly suspicious. She knew I wouldn''t be able to pull myself away, and wanted me to be able to focus on my family instead of feeling guilty about not being out there helping. It made all the sense in the world. I was just feeling a bit¡­ emotional about everything. Especially the whole idea that there was even the slightest remote possibility that I could be an Abyssal. I wasn¡¯t, of course. Everything I¡¯d gone over, with the help of Izzy, made that clear. Seriously, my parents would have known if I had a habit of turning into a giant rage monster. There was no way they could possibly not know that. And if they knew it, they wouldn¡¯t let me roam free like they did.


    But on the other hand, there was a very small voice in the back of my head pointing out that even if they did lose track of me for the amount of time that a Collision Point had happened a couple hundred miles away, they might not actually know for certain that I was literally one of those monsters. They might think I¡¯d simply gotten lost or something and then been found later. And if I had disappeared back then for a couple hours, would that even be something they¡¯d bring up at all? How could I even bring that up to question it? What could I say, ¡®Hey Mom, do you remember that one vacation? Did you guys happen to lose track of me for, oh, an hour or so at this exact time? Hm? Oh no reason, I¡¯m just trying to figure out if it¡¯s actually possible that I could be an Abyssal. Which, kind of a funny story, would mean that I¡¯ve actually Touched three times instead of twice like I thought, but who¡¯s counting at this point?¡¯


    That was the real question here though. Was it possible that I could have wandered off without them knowing, come into contact with another Abyssal, and both of us were somehow transported a couple hundred miles to have our big fight without my parents realizing?


    Yes, as much as I hated to even think about it, that was still a possibility. No one knew for certain exactly what the rules were for these things. It was possible, however remotely, that I had become an Abyssal at some point much earlier in my life. Then I had come into contact with another Abyssal, both of us were transported to a new area a couple hundred miles away to fight, before I came back and my parents found me without ever realizing just where I had been during that time. It could¡¯ve happened. I wanted to smack myself for even still considering it as the faintest possibility, but I had to exhaust the idea entirely. I had to be absolutely certain. It was just--I had to know.


    When I brought up that possibility as Izzy and I were sitting there on the bed with our pretzels, she opened her mouth, then shut it. ¡°Well, you could prove it wasn¡¯t you just by finding every other instance when either of those Abyssals who were involved with that particular Collision Point showed up somewhere else and finding at least one for both of them that happened during a time you actually can account for. Find out which Abyssals they were and then prove you couldn¡¯t be either of them.¡±


    Sitting there with a pretzel in my mouth, I blinked twice, then chewed and swallowed before leaning over to embrace her. ¡°You¡¯re awesome. I was just thinking about how if my whereabouts could be proven during any other time, Maki would¡¯ve crossed me off the list instead of putting a question mark next to my name. The question mark seems like they couldn¡¯t actually verify my whereabouts during every other time those Abyssals showed up. But you¡¯re right, I¡¯d know more about where I was or how to prove it than they would. I mean, I¡¯d hope I would.¡±


    Obviously, I was exhausted. So was Izzy. But I knew that if I tried to go to sleep right now, it wouldn¡¯t work. I wanted to know for certain. I wanted to prove to myself once and for all that I absolutely could not be an Abyssal by looking at every single time either of the possibilities had been active and seeing for certain that I had to have been somewhere else during at least one of those times for each of them.


    So, we took a few minutes to look that up so we could at least try to put my mind (and Izzy¡¯s, I was sure) completely at ease. And straight off the bat, we were able to eliminate one of the two Abyssals entirely. The Collision Point that Maki had been potentially linking to me involved one Hidden and one Wanderer. So yeah, that latter one couldn¡¯t be me. If I was an Abyssal--not that it was a possibility I even wanted to entertain, but if I was, it had to be as a Hidden. My mental state was too coherent (much as certain people would have disagreed with that) for me to be a Wanderer. Plus I wasn¡¯t constantly traveling all over the place. Wanderers always acted very out-of-it and spacey, like they weren¡¯t aware of where they were or what was going on. And they were always trying to get somewhere.


    On that note, I definitely wasn¡¯t a Stalker either. I would¡¯ve known what I was if I was a Stalker, and I would be much more¡­ violent and murderous. So that was right out from the start. I couldn¡¯t be a Stalker and not know about it. I could¡¯ve been lying to others but I would know.


    That left a Hidden, who were the ones who tended to have their memories wiped or replaced or whatever. I wasn¡¯t sure about the details. Well, honestly, no one was completely sure about the details. All we had was what could be pieced together. But from what much smarter people had been able to find out while doing that, Hidden had no idea what they were, and their memories of being a giant rampaging monster were replaced with normal memories that would fit into that time.


    So, speaking very, very hypothetically, if I was an Abyssal, it would be a Hidden. Which meant I could only be one of the two Abyssals involved in that particular Collision Point.


    Izzy gave my shoulder a squeeze. ¡°See, one down already--wait. Why is Maki considering you as a possibility for that Collision Point just because you were within a couple hundred miles if Abyssals can end up being teleported elsewhere anyway? I mean, both of these Abyssals have been involved in other C-Points in different locations before then and since, right? If you were one of them, you would¡¯ve had to have been teleported to those locations too, even from Detroit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I admitted while shaking my head. ¡°Let¡¯s take it one step at a time and just prove I can¡¯t be the--which Hidden was it?¡±


    ¡°Gagana,¡± Izzy replied, and we both winced.


    Yeah, that wasn¡¯t a great choice. Gagana, named after some Russian legendary bird, was a humanoid-avian figure who stood about twenty feet tall. She had a very¡­ feminine form with a pronounced bust that had feathers covering very strategic locations. Her arms and legs were mostly human with a few more scattered feathers, and she had broad, enormous wings sticking out of her back. But the thing about her body, the wings, and the feathers in general was that they all seemed to be made of different metals. She looked like a statue of a winged angel that had come to life, or like an automaton or something. She was a metal angel. Her powers all revolved around controlling, manipulating, creating, or otherwise doing something with various metals. Magnetism included. Gagana was all about metal. Which also meant that she tended to do a hell of a lot of damage to infrastructure and stuff.


    Yeah, the possibility that I could be her really wasn''t helping my mood. Though to be fair, there wasn''t a single abyssal out there that I would choose to be. They were all bad.


    Either way, the two of us looked up every time that she had appeared. Of course, the first thing we checked was when her first appearance had been. Unfortunately, it was eleven years earlier, which meant I wasn''t disqualified on the count of being too young. Granted, I wasn''t expecting it to be that simple, since it seemed like that would''ve been the first thing Maki checked too, but still.


    She had made six appearances in the time since her first attack, which put her around average. Of those six appearances, most of them I couldn''t definitively account for. And I was starting to get even more anxious. But then I found one that had taken place in Alabama. I would have been thirteen at the time, and my heart immediately leapt when I saw the date. That was the weekend that I¡¯d had my wisdom teeth taken out. It wouldn''t have been a matter of public record, of course. At least, not normal public record. But I definitely knew that I had been under close observation, literally having teeth taken out of my mouth, while that particular Collision Point happened.


    I was safe. I wasn''t one of the Abyssals.


    And yes, Izzy smacked me the second I started to say that I could have disappeared and the memories of the dentist and his assistant could''ve been erased or something. I rubbed my shoulder and thanked her. Yeah, this seemed pretty definitive to me. At least as definitive as we were going to get. I wasn''t the Abyssal that Maki was looking for. Which was at least one huge thing off my mind.


    Or maybe just partially off, because that still meant that one of those people on the list probably was an Abyssal, and they were here in the city.


    Yeah, I was just going to set that aside and accept that I couldn''t do anything about it for the moment. It wasn''t like we were lacking in stuff to deal with anyway.


    And right now, the thing I had to deal with was getting some sleep. Izzy and I were both so tired by that point that we could barely keep our eyes open. We laid down there together, I told the lights to turn off, and we drifted off. Our parents were cured, we would go back to see them again later today, and I wasn''t an Abyssal. All in all, a pretty productive night. We were making some real progress when it came to dealing with everything.


    Which, of course, probably meant that the entire city was going to explode in the next twenty-four hours or something.

 To The Races 32-02

    Well, it was a damn good thing that I wasn¡¯t supposed to be at school for those finals that day, because it absolutely would not have happened. If I¡¯d tried to deal with that and actually gone in at eight in the morning, I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to spell my own name, let alone deal with the actual test itself. It was just as likely that I would¡¯ve written down the name Paintball, to be honest. Which would¡¯ve been a pretty pathetic and dumb way for all my secrets to come out.


    In any case, boy did I ever need that sleep. Seriously, I was probably completely zonked out and utterly dead to the world for at least ten hours. It was almost noon by the time I finally came to some semblance of consciousness, blinking at the ceiling with the comforting weight of Izzy nearby. I was technically awake, though I still wasn¡¯t exactly jumping right out of bed just yet.


    It took me another minute or so to orient myself enough to even comprehend where I was and that I¡¯d actually slept that long. Once I did manage to groggily pick my head up off the pillow to look around, I realized what had woken me up before. I had a text message from my dad.


    No, sorry, correction: Paintball had a text message from my dad. As Silversmith. Which took me a moment to actually process even after picking up my Touched-business phone to look at it, since I was still waking up. I just laid there and stared at the bright screen. For a second, I kept wondering why Silversmith was texting--right, Paintball. Me. Yeah, I was okay. I was coherent.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Well, that was sort of what Izzy asked. I had to interpret it a bit since her head was buried under the blanket and her face pressed into the pillow. Between that and the fact that she was still waking up like I had been, it came out as an almost indecipherable mumble. Her hand groped blindly toward a glass on the nearby table before she gave up and simply turned her head somewhat. The water in the glass flew out and into her open mouth. Only after swallowing that did she open her eyes and blink over at me questioningly. ¡°Hmm?¡±


    Giggling despite myself, I shook my head and sat up a bit more fully, putting my back against the headboard. Then I adjusted my own pillow so I could sit comfortably. ¡°It¡¯s our--I mean it¡¯s a text from Silversmith, for Paintball. Hang on.¡± Glancing down again, I read it through before frowning. My head shook slowly as I glanced that way with an uncertain, ¡°Err, I think he¡¯s grounding me?¡±


    That made Izzy blink too, sitting up next to me before leaning over to look for herself. ¡°What?¡±


    We both looked it over. It wasn¡¯t literally about grounding Paintball, of course. The message was, first and foremost, about him thanking not just me but my entire team for everything we had done during the quarantine. It was also about letting us know that they were probably going to have a lot more to talk to us about as soon as they managed to get more immediate things sorted out.


    But beyond that, he was telling me--telling the entire team through me-- that after a long discussion with other leaders in the city, they had decided that we had been through enough. It wasn¡¯t just about our team either. They would apparently be telling the Minority the same thing, removing them from patrol duties. We were basically being put on a semi-forced vacation. It was supposed to be for two weeks. The Conservators, with the temporarily-added members who were already here and others who would be coming in now that the quarantine was coming down, would be working alongside other adult groups to put things back on track and clean up. We were minors, so they were telling us to leave it alone and recover.


    That was the basic idea. It wasn¡¯t quite as blunt as that or anything. He made it clear that they were incredibly grateful for everything we did. But at the same time, it was also clear that this was about as firm as they could be about telling us to sit things out for a little bit. He said that he was fully aware that sometimes things came up that we might have to deal with, and that this wasn¡¯t a threat to lock us up for being out in costume or anything. But for two weeks, we were not to actively patrol or go looking for trouble if we could help it. If we found out about something that needed to be handled, we were free to contact him or any of the other Star-Touched. We had done enough while they were sidelined, and now it was our turn to take a break for awhile.


    Once I¡¯d gotten through all that again, Izzy checked her own phone and found the same message. Well, basically the same. The way hers was written, it had clearly been addressed to her entire team. The Minority as a whole were being benched for the next couple weeks as well.


    Okay, yeah, I couldn¡¯t really blame them or argue too much with that. We really had been doing a lot ever since the quarantine went up. Hell, the evidence for that was right in the fact that Izzy and I had both slept for ten hours the moment things started to look up. Our parents were awake, Sleeptalk was being dealt with properly, and we had reacted by falling into our own temporary comas. So maybe we couldn¡¯t really argue effectively against the idea that we needed a break. Especially since this wasn¡¯t just about me. It was about the others too. Wren, Roald, Murphy, Peyton, they all deserved a break. Even Paige and Sierra could probably stand to spend some actual free time with Irelyn to work out that whole situation a bit more. And yeah, I really had no idea what was going to happen with that woman knowing about the Ministry, let alone the fact that she now had a sister-of-her-adopted-sister who happened to look like my twin.


    God, that was complicated. Irelyn knew the truth--well, a lot of the truth anyway. She knew enough to really cause problems if she wanted to. But I trusted Paige and Sierra to convince her that making a big fuss about things immediately was a bad idea. The Ministry was too well-connected to try exposing just like that, and if they thought she knew too much and could make a nuisance of herself¡­ fuck, I didn¡¯t want to think about my family like that. I hated thinking about my family like that. I had to believe they would try to talk her down and make a deal with her before going with anything drastic. But either way, it complicated the whole situation. And the best way to handle it was to let Paige and Sierra spend more time with her. Which this whole semi-forced vacation would help with. Those two needed--deserved time with their sister.


    Besides, to be honest, maybe we could use that two weeks to not just recharge, but also do something with that equipment the Ministry had paid Wren with. Pittman was gone, but he clearly still had Biolems around, and probably more non-Biolems who had been working with him. Between that and the fact that even more problems were absolutely going to present themselves soon enough, we needed to beef up security around the shop. And I could stand to spread more of my paint around too, putting up bits of graffiti here and there that I could use in an emergency.


    So yes, all in all, there were plenty of reasons to accept this ¡®request¡¯ that we take a break, even if I did reflexively bristle at the idea. But again, it wasn¡¯t just about me, not in the least. It was about everyone else too. Hell, look at Amber. She¡¯d been dealing with the revelation that Whamline had been the one who killed her father, and had still been out there on the streets for all this time trying to help people. There was absolutely no way that she¡¯d actually processed and dealt with that. She needed a real break too. But if I insisted on being out there--if I dragged my team, who also deserved a break, out there, of course she was going to feel guilty about sitting things out.


    Once I talked all that through with Izzy, she agreed. Even if it was both of our instincts to argue with the idea of being sidelined, it really was for the best. Two weeks honestly felt like forever right now, but would probably fly by. Especially on my end, if my group was actually going to work on helping Wren make use of those new supplies to put some of those defenses and whatever else together. We wouldn¡¯t exactly be lazing around doing nothing. But at the very least, not being in life and death situations, and having time to actually regroup and rebuild a bit--yeah, that was for the best. I didn¡¯t have the right to argue with Silversmith or the other leaders in an attempt to take away everyone else¡¯s chance to have a break. No matter how much my first instinct was to do just that. The vacation wasn¡¯t just for me. And even if it had been, honestly, I needed a real break too.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    And speaking of things we needed, Izzy and I both realized we were famished right around then. But we also reeked after everything, so she bounded off to use the shower first. While I was waiting, I sent a message to Paige asking if everything was okay on her end and letting her know about the ¡®request¡¯ from Silversmith. She, in turn, let me know that things were still complicated over there, but going about as well as they could. Apparently she, Sierra, and Irelyn were going out for breakfast. It sounded like they had only just woken up as well, after an equally late night.


    More importantly, apparently Irelyn thought she might be able to get her hands on one of those Incogniter things for Sierra so that she could disguise herself even more effectively. Which was yet another weight off my shoulders, honestly. If that worked, if Sierra could make herself look completely different, there was much less risk that my parents would see her and realize--well I wasn¡¯t sure what they would realize. But it would definitely complicate the whole situation. If she had an Incogniter and could put a holographic disguise over herself, it would¡­ yeah. Irelyn knowing at least much of the truth was already paying off. Which, to be honest, managed to make me feel even more guilty about the fact that we¡¯d sent her off on that wild goose chase.


    Not that I actually needed help feeling guilty about that. I was going to have to go see her as Paintball and¡­ and try to explain things. I was going to have to apologize for my part in that.


    Once Izzy was done, I took my own shower. Then the two of us bounded down the stairs. We were only halfway there before starting to smell food. Sure enough, Claudio and his assistants had whipped up an incredible spread, having started once one of the maids let them know that Izzy had started taking her shower. Christiana told us to take our seats and then put a veritable breakfast feast in front of us, with an added note that Claudio was going to be very disappointed if we didn¡¯t eat as much as we could before leaving to visit our parents. But, far more importantly, so would our mother. So that was the point of all this. She had probably called ahead and requested that they make a huge meal like this. The only question was, how much of that was because she was simply concerned that we hadn¡¯t been eating enough while they were unconscious, and how much of it was to keep us busy with this so she and Dad could continue attending to all that Ministry business they¡¯d fallen behind on thanks to the Sleeptalk stuff?


    Okay, yes, it was just slightly possible that I was being a little too paranoid about all that. It was a big breakfast, I didn¡¯t need to completely overthink the whole thing. Even if they did have a lot to catch up on, our parents weren¡¯t going to trick us into leaving them alone to do that. It was silly.


    Besides, I really was incredibly hungry. The second the food was put in front of us, I put all that other stuff out of my mind for the time being and just dove in. Beside me, Izzy did the same. We didn¡¯t say much for a few minutes there, intent on simply eating. Eventually, I asked about Simon at one point when Christiana was refilling our drinks and found out he had left a couple hours earlier to go back over to the hospital. But Jefferson was standing by to take us to see our parents whenever we wanted. Which was another thing that let me know how unusual this whole situation was. Jefferson didn¡¯t like ¡®standing by¡¯ to do things. He liked to find out ahead of time and arrange his entire schedule for the day, if not the week. Being told that he was simply waiting around and would drive us over there as soon as we wanted? That was very, very different.


    It also convinced me to hurry up and finish eating. No matter how willing he might¡¯ve been to make this a special occasion, I didn¡¯t want to make Jefferson wait any longer than we had to. Honestly, right then I felt more guilty about making him sit around than I did about making our parents wait for us to show up. After all, they had plenty of things to keep them busy. As much as I knew they did want to see Izzy and me again, they weren¡¯t going to be bored any time soon.


    Which, of course, made me think about the whole Bobby situation. How had they reacted to the news that he had executed Pittman like that? Would they be angry with him, or totally accept it? Considering the threat he posed, I was pretty sure it would lean toward the latter, but still.


    Either way, they would be looking for him. And I still had no idea where he was. Hell, I wasn¡¯t even sure how much he knew. He¡¯d figured out that ¡®Style¡¯ looked like Cassidy, but did he realize¡­ god, I didn¡¯t know. I needed to talk to him. I wanted to talk to him. Which meant finding him, and that was another thing I could use these next couple weeks of ¡®vacation¡¯ to work on.


    Okay, so maybe this was less of an actual vacation, and more of a way to catch up on other things. Regardless, we needed it. Not being in immediate life and death situations really would be a break, even if we weren''t lounging around doing nothing.


    After filling up on as much delicious food as we could shove down our throats, Izzy and I took the ride from Jefferson back over to the hospital. Part of me thought I should check in at the shop and see what else was going on, while another part wanted to see what had happened with that whole situation from the night before with the people who had tried to destroy the cure. But if I acted like I had anything I would rather do than visit my parents right then, people would be a bit suspicious.


    Besides, to be honest, I really didn''t care about that stuff more than I wanted to see my parents right then. Which I might have felt a little guilty about, but there it was. I would be plenty busy with all those other things soon enough. I sure as hell wasn''t going to bring it up in front of Izzy and make her feel guilty. No, the two of us would be just fine focusing on family stuff for the moment.


    So, that was what we did. We went to the hospital and spent the next few hours with our parents. We caught them up on everything we could actually talk about. Which meant Izzy did more talking than me. She told them about the stuff she knew as part of the Minority, while I was limited to just talking about the stuff that was known to the public. I had to pretend to be a clueless bystander.


    On the other hand, that did mean I had an excuse to play up how awesome it was to have a sister with super powers who was a bonafide superhero. And boy did I. It became my goal in that little visit to see just how much I could make Izzy blush.


    Was that silly? Yeah, of course. But I still had fun with it. It was just nice to focus on something completely inconsequential like that. Our parents were awake, and as far as the doctors could tell, there didn''t appear to be any relapses or serious side effects. All of that was definitely cause for goofing off a little bit and being silly.


    Eventually, however, they needed to sleep. The doctors didn''t want to let them overdo it just yet. And yes, part of me wondered if this was more about them getting Ministry stuff done, but it didn''t matter that much. We would visit them again later.


    After getting some lunch, Izzy and I split up. She went in to meet with the rest of the Minority to get their official vacation orders, and I headed over to the shop. Everyone else was already there hanging out and talking about the quarantine being lifted. It wasn''t absolutely official just yet. They were waiting until five o''clock this evening for that. But the sense of relief already settled over the city was palpable. They''d had Silversmith on the news letting everyone know that he and the others were back and they would be getting things under control.


    Once I walked into the shop, everyone was clamoring to find out how my parents were and what was going on with that. I let them know that my mom and dad were fine, but also that that meant they would be getting back to Ministry work. Which could complicate things.


    Paige cleared her throat. ¡°Speaking of complicating things, I told you that Irelyn knows about it now. We couldn''t lie to her anymore, not about that. Not after everything that happened.¡±


    That was the other thing, apparently she had caught the others up on the fact that Irelyn was Flea. She had done it with the older girl''s permission, of course. Apparently Irelyn wanted all of us here to know that we could trust her, and why she could help with all this.


    ¡°She''s not going to do anything drastic right now,¡± Sierra assured us with a slightly distant look, like she was thinking about something else. ¡°And she''s definitely not about to try going to the news or anything. We made sure she understood how dangerous they can be.¡±


    While Murphy muttered something about not knowing the half of it, the Cuddles quickly asked what we were going to do with them now that the quarantine was coming down. The rest of us exchanged looks before I answered. ¡°We''re not going to force you to do anything right now. We¡¯ll take our time, figure out the best way to handle this without letting anyone use you again, and go from there. One step at a time without rushing.¡±


    They seemed satisfied enough by that, and started a whole whispered conversation with Wren and Qwerty. It sounded like they were planning something.


    Before I could focus too much on that, Paige spoke up. ¡°There''s something else. As soon as the quarantine comes down, Irelyn wants to take Sierra and me on some sort of trip to visit her-- our parents¡¯ cabin. She thinks there''s some supplies there we can use, including that incogniter for Sierra. Plus, I think she just wants to spend time with us talking about everything away from here. It¡¯s a¡­ road trip, I guess.¡±


    My head bobbed. ¡°Yeah, apparently the adults want all of us to stop patrolling for a couple weeks and take it easy. For some reason they feel like we''ve done too much lately.¡±


    Peyton blinked a couple times, as she and the others took that in. ¡°So Paige and Sierra are going to be gone for a while and we¡¯re being benched because they want us to take a break? What does that mean?¡±


    I offered a shrug. ¡°Honestly, I guess it just means one thing.


    ¡°We are officially on vacation.¡±

 Intermission Interlude - Sterling And Elena

    Throughout the time they had spent building the Ministry into what it now was, Sterling and Elena Evans had always known that they couldn''t trust that they would always be around to control every aspect of it. Their line of work, on both sides of the law (and both sides of ethics and morality) was too dangerous and unpredictable. No matter how much they planned for, and no matter how capable they were, there was always the chance of something unexpected happening to one or both of them. They couldn''t create the organization they wanted, an organization that could continue to stand even through the total collapse of larger governments, by forcing the entire thing to rely solely on their constant presence and guidance. That would have been a very good way to end up with the Ministry falling apart at the very moment they weren¡¯t there.


    So, they had surrounded themselves with quite intelligent and powerful people. Those at the top of the leadership positions in the Ministry were more than capable of working together to continue the organization even if its founders had never actually recovered from Sleeptalk. In such an eventuality, if both of them had died, their organization would continue. They had taken far too many pains to establish redundancies for it to fall that easily. Most of the lower and mid-tier levels didn¡¯t even know they existed, or who they were actually working for.


    The people at the top, the rest of the Ministry leadership council, were why Sterling had not lost his mind upon being brought back to coherent consciousness, only to be told that he and his wife had both been incapacitated for weeks by that point. Oh, he certainly hadn''t been thrilled, but neither had he utterly panicked about what had happened. He trusted that the people they put into place had done their jobs properly. That was what they were there for, after all. And the evidence that they had done those jobs was right there in the fact that he and his wife were awake and safe now.


    All of which was to say, beyond getting very simple and brief updates about the immediate situation, both of them had told their people to hold off on getting into the full details until after they managed to spend some time with their children. Yes, the state of the city was important. But they knew that nothing they could do about it right in that immediate moment would really matter. They would get down to the important points of what needed to be done soon enough, but for now, they needed to be there for Cassidy, Izzy, and Simon. Simon--the boy himself had obviously stepped up as much as he possibly could in that time. He wasn¡¯t ready to take over, but he had stepped up. He had done everything he could, everything they could expect of him. But for now, for this moment, Sterling and Elena wanted to see him not as part of the Ministry, not as one of their lieutenants, but as their child. They wanted to see him as their firstborn. That was what mattered right then, not more details about Ministry work.


    So, they spend that first bit of time getting caught up with their children''s lives. They heard what Izzy had been up to with the Minority, and other things. They learned about Whamline¡¯s betrayal and true motivation, an explanation that left both of them looking at one another. There was something much larger behind that situation. If he had truly been such a monster, the fact that they had missed it entirely was troubling. To say nothing of the fact that he had been responsible for the death of Amber O''Connell''s father. The girl herself was a fairly strong candidate for recruitment into the Ministry, considering her attraction to Dani Kalvers and friendship with Cassidy. But even beyond that, both of them were horrified by the realization that the girl had unknowingly been spending so much time with the person who killed her dad. Yes, there was a part of them that thought about how that would affect her attitude and personality in general going forward. But it was a very minor part compared to the concern they had for her overall well-being. Whether she was part of the Ministry or not, Amber was a very good person and an excellent Star-Touched to have in the city. They cared about her. Cared enough, as it was, to be concerned about how she was doing after all that. She had killed the person responsible for her father''s death.


    Well, some would say that she had simply allowed him to die, but that was a distinction that she probably didn''t care that much about. When it came down to it, she was clearly responsible for his death. She allowed him to die. That was something that had to be eating at her, no matter what sort of outward face she put on it, and no matter how evil the boy himself had been. Both Sterling and Elena knew that that wasn¡¯t something she could just ignore and move on from that easily. The overall betrayal, the disgust at having spent so much time with him, being attacked and mocked for her father¡¯s death, and then ultimately making the choice to allow the building to collapse on him¡­ it was more than anyone should have to deal with, let alone a teenager like Amber.


    That was something to keep an eye on. She needed to be taken care of, needed to be given a break, time to process everything. She needed time to recover, not more trauma and stress. If that continued for too long, the girl would break. She was too helpful, too strong, too good, for them to let that happen. No, whatever came next, it was obvious that she needed a vacation. All of them did, honestly. It was time to insist that the youth Touched take a real break. Both Sterling and his wife communicated that much with one another through a simple glance.


    Beyond that explanation from Izzy about the whole situation, they caught up with their children in other ways through that short time. Cassidy had had her-- their chance to explain their truth, which was going to take some getting used to. Sterling was happy for his child at the fact that they seemed to have become much more comfortable with themself. It filled his heart with joy to see how much more at ease she-they looked. There was still a certain guardedness to them. It made his stomach clench at the thought that his child might have been nervous about sharing this with them.


    But all they could do was show Cassidy all the acceptance and understanding they could. Yes, all of this was a big change, considering how long Cassidy had spent trying to downplay their masculine side. It was going to be a lot to get used to. But the only thing that truly mattered was that Cassidy felt comfortable with who they were now. Everything else was nothing more than details.


    But speaking of details, once that reunion with their children was over, it was time for Sterling and Elena to get a much deeper understanding of what else they missed in all that time. It was, very obviously even from the very beginning, not a short list. The city had been rather busy, it seemed.


    It was Tricia Peppernickle, one of the most beloved receptionists for the Seraphs and secretly part of the Ministry leadership, who came to advise them of the full situation once their children left. No one would question her being in the area or stopping by to check on them. That was just the sort of reputation she had built. She was a kindly old woman who couldn''t be a threat to anyone or anything. No one who didn''t know already would have guessed that she was potentially one of the most dangerous Touched in the city, at least as far as long-term effect went. She was capable of instilling temporary but powerful addictions in people through touch, addictions to any food or drink she wanted. Failing to service those addictions could lead to intense hallucinations and severe illness. It wasn''t exactly a pretty sight, to say the least.


    No, Tricia was absolutely not the right person to underestimate. But she was loyal to the Evans, and to the overall goal of the Ministry. She was one of their most trusted advisers and friends. As soon as she came into the room, both Sterling and Elena embraced her in turn. They made smalltalk for a few minutes, asking her about her own loved ones and how she was doing, before getting down into the nitty gritty.


    And what nitty gritty it was. They had been very aware that monumental things had happened in their absence, but this was even more than they had even begun to suspect. Whamline¡¯s revelation and subsequent death was only one part of it.


    Sterling was only mildly surprised by the revelation that the Scions had been in some way connected to Sleeptalk, though the specifics were rather¡­ unique. Amanda Sanvers, Cup, had been Benjamin Pittman¡¯s.. what, protege? She was with him, and had been the one who took the reins of his plan while he was indisposed. She had created this Sleeptalk under his obvious direction, and now that she had been arrested, she was the one who helped make the cure.


    ¡°Arrested,¡± Elena murmured while standing by the window that overlooked the hospital grounds. ¡°Dare I ask who was responsible for that bit of heroism?¡±


    A small chuckle escaped the older woman, who had taken a seat and was knitting absently. ¡°Oh, that would be Miss Sanvers herself. She surrendered.¡± Her gaze rose to look pointed at them both. ¡°After killing her brother.¡±


    Sterling, standing next to the bed, made a sound deep in his throat. It was part-cough and part-grunt. ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± There had been more serious things Izzy and Cassidy had wanted to talk about, things both of them had occasionally started to bring up, but Elena had insisted they stick to other, lighter topics as soon as they were done talking about That-A-Way and Whamline. That had been difficult enough as it was, for Izzy to talk about her teammate and supposed friend being¡­ that. Elena wanted their reunion to be a happy time, not a stressful one. So they spent most of it talking about less traumatic news.


    This bit about Pencil being killed by his sister? That was probably one of the things they had wanted to bring up.


    Tricia remained focused on her knitting for a few seconds, having spent enough time telling stories throughout her seventy years or so of life that she knew when to milk a moment. Finally, just before she would have allowed it to drag on for too long, she explained. Well, not immediately. First, she told them about the Scions taking over that apartment building and locking everyone out with a force field in what had been a deliberate attempt to get themselves transported into the Conservator headquarters. Normally the building had too many protections against that, but it seemed that Ms. Sanvers had managed to create a forcefield with a specific, exploitable weakness that she knew the authorities would both identify and utilize. It wouldn''t have surprised Sterling at all to find that one of the Scions was responsible for that idea making its way through the system.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    In any case, the supposed solution was a trap. The weakness that was supposed to teleport everyone inside the building to random locations had actually sent the Scions into the Conservator headquarters. Supposedly, their goal had been to kill the Sleeptalk patients there (including Sterling and Elena), as well as the doctors who were working on them. Not a terrible plan, if one wanted to cause as much chaos and trauma as possible. It was an evil, horrific plan (and one that Sterling held rather strong personal opinions against, being one of those who would have died), but not a stupid one.


    Well, unless you considered the sort of ramifications that would have come after the Scions if they had pulled it off. But then, when did they ever think about ramifications?


    Examining her knitting critically for a moment, Tricia tapped her needle against the chair thoughtfully before adding, ¡°I do believe that nasty boy thought he was going to be able to kill Paintball when he pulled the lad into that particular cage match.¡±


    It was a good thing that Sterling hadn''t been drinking anything in that moment, because it would have ended up on the floor. He was, however, holding his phone, which dropped from his hand as his head snapped around. But in that same moment, without even looking at him, Elena put her hand out to catch the falling phone. Not because she was any less surprised, but she had always been far more collected and poised out of the two of them.


    Tricia, for her part, allowed her bombshell to detonate with a very small, self-satisfied smile before continuing. ¡°Oh yes, our least favorite monster decided the best way to get his reputation back was to horrifically murder the person responsible for taking it from him in the first place. Well, one of the people. He managed to drag that boy down into a private room and set up some sort of livestream to show off the killing for everyone.¡± She made a show of pausing to consider something thoughtfully. ¡°Which may have worked out better for him if it hadn''t come almost immediately after that same boy called to tell us that he and his friends had discovered what Pencil¡¯s weakness was.¡±


    Sterling gave her a look after coughing. ¡°Now I know you''re doing this on purpose,¡± he accused pointedly. ¡°Just how often can you include a spit-take moment in one story?¡±


    Tricia¡¯s answer was a not-so-innocent wink. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but let¡¯s find out, shall we? And honestly, how often is it that both of you are so behind in something important in this city that it gives me a chance to get these sorts of reactions? Allow a frail and rapidly fading old lady some small measure of fun in her twilight years, would you?¡±


    Elena gave a rather undignified snort at that. Her head shook firmly. ¡°Ahem, don¡¯t forget, I¡¯ve seen your medical reports. I remain certain that you will outlive both of us and remain in this same position while assisting our children when they are our age.


    Adopting an affronted expression, Sterling shot a look at his wife. ¡°Hey now, I plan on being very much alive when the kids are the age we are now.¡± He straightened up as much as possible and made a motion as though adjusting a tie that wasn''t there. ¡°After all, we are both incredibly young. Especially you.¡± With that, he leaned over to kiss her very lightly.


    Eyes light with amusement, Elena played at scolding him with a hushed word or two before turning her attention back to their guest. ¡°Before my husband finds some other excuse to be distracting, would you kindly continue your story and explain what happened? You were saying something about Paintball telling us Pencil¡¯s weakness.¡±


    So, Tricia told them about Rubi, the new Touched who had subsequently joined Ten Towers, and how her encounter with Pencil had gone.


    Hearing that, both about a new Star-Touched with a fascinating power, and about how that power had apparently been used to identify a potential flaw in Pencil¡¯s supposed immunity, made Sterling slump back a bit. Had it truly been that simple the whole time? Could--how many people could have been saved, how much damage prevented, if they had simply shot the bastard more times? But how could they have known that shooting him fifty times instead of thirty might have accomplished something?


    The guilt that Sterling felt then, as faces of the dead passed through his mind, made his eyes close briefly. He felt Elena squeeze his arm, her soft voice reassuring him. They didn¡¯t know. They had no way to know. And yet, that didn¡¯t stop Sterling from promising himself that he would visit those graves, those memorials, and apologize for not trying harder.


    They should have tried harder.


    Only once they had that bit of background did Tricia go on to the subject of the actual fight between Paintball and that bastard. Yet she didn''t simply describe it herself, not trusting her own words to do the event justice. Instead, she put the recording of the fight up on the nearby television screen with a couple taps at her phone. For all the woman enjoyed playing up her age, either for comedic effect or to convince others to underestimate her, she really was very technically astute. Sterling was convinced she was probably the one helping her grandchildren with their computers rather than the other way around.


    So, they all watched on the screen as the fight played out. Through it all, Sterling felt his heart repeatedly clench. It was odd. He knew that Paintball was alive and Pencil was dead, so there shouldn''t have been any real emotional reaction. Besides, he didn''t know Paintball, not really. He was rather glad they had failed in their early attempts to kill the boy. That had been a severe overreaction, an emotional reflex after dealing with people who had threatened his daughter. If they had behaved better, they might have actually recruited the boy that first night. Instead, everything went rather poorly. Granted, it could have gone worse. The boy was alive and very effective. He was good for the city, and he was obviously either willing to let things go, or at least knew better than to rock the boat. Whatever the reason, he wasn''t actively trying to expose them.


    And now, there he was on the screen, fighting for his life against one of the most dangerous monsters he ever could have been put up against. Watching that, Sterling found himself taking his wife''s hand and squeezing it. He still didn''t understand why he had that sort of reaction. The boy was effective. He was good. He would make a very fine recruit if that became possible in the future. But none of that explained why Sterling was so emotionally affected simply by watching him fight Pencil. It was, again, odd. Maybe it was just a side effect of being under Sleeptalk for so long.


    At least he didn''t have to question the enjoyment he felt when the boy exposed and utilized Pencil¡¯s actual weakness. Through that entire sequence, he found himself more impressed at Paintball¡¯s seemingly perfect aim with that gun. Was that really the first time he had used one of those, or was he an expert? If that was part of his power, one of those seemingly minor ¡®extra¡¯ gifts that tended to help Touched, it would explain how he was so accurate with his paint in the first place. Though Sterling wasn''t exactly certain what an enhanced aim gift had to do with paint on its own.


    Then the fight was over. Paintball had won, utterly humiliating Pencil in the process. Seeing the monster dropped through the simple act of having his shoelaces tied together, Sterling felt a sharp rush of both pride (odd) and satisfaction. He had to remind himself to project calm and poise in this moment. Elena wouldn¡¯t like it if he--


    ¡°Hot damn!¡± That was Elena, half-rising from her seat with that blurted exclamation. Only then, after the words had escaped her, did she seem to actually realize what she had said. Sitting back down immediately, she made a very soft, slightly embarrassed noise in her throat. A pink tint had come to her face. ¡°Ahem, that is¡­ nice to see.¡±


    Allowing himself a small chuckle, Sterling put an arm around his wife. ¡°Yes, it is.¡±


    Tricia explained what happened after that, away from the livestream. She told them about Amanda Sanvers appearing, literally executing her own brother in cold blood, and what came after with her surrender and subsequently being revealed (by Avant-Guard again) as the architect of the entire Sleeptalk situation.


    Oh, and in case all of that wasn¡¯t enough (because these ridiculous teenagers didn¡¯t know how to sleep apparently), Paintball¡¯s group had even managed to produce Pittman himself. Because of course they had. By that point, all Sterling and Elena could do was nod along with the story. Sure, why not? This band of teenage Touched had managed to teleport Pittman off of the single most-secure prison in the entire world, then handed him over to the Ministry.


    Or at least, they had tried to. But that was where things went sideways again. Upon hearing what happened to the man, Elena gave a low, yet rather intricate series of curses in Italian before exhaling. ¡°Robert¡­ killed him in front of the small child?¡±


    ¡°He waited until she was occupied with the truck of supplies we were offering,¡± Tricia assured them. ¡°She was close enough to hear it happen, but she didn¡¯t see it. That must have been intentional.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± Elena confirmed with certainty. ¡°Though I assume we don¡¯t know where he is now?¡±


    Shaking her head, Tricia replied, ¡°Simon and a few others wanted to pursue him, at the very least to ask questions. I told them it would be a waste of time to try, at the very best. There was no need to provoke the man. He will come to us when he¡¯s ready to speak. And we couldn¡¯t make any decisions about what to do about that situation until you were awake anyway.¡± Her eyebrow raised. ¡°And what are we going to do? About that, and the rest of it.¡±


    After exchanging a glance with his wife, Sterling answered slowly. ¡°As far as Robert goes, we¡¯ll make it known that it¡¯s time to talk. He¡¯ll come to us. I¡¯m not¡­ thrilled that he killed Pittman before we could so much as talk to the man, but I think we all understand why he did. Especially after what happened. That man was a threat to Cassidy and Simon. Robert knows that.


    ¡°And as for the rest of it, it sounds like there¡¯s a lot of work to do. But first of all, I think it¡¯s time to make a few calls and arrange for a certain assortment of overachieving Touched to go on vacation.¡± He paused, frowning thoughtfully. ¡°You know, considering our line of work, I should probably clarify that I mean an actual vacation.¡± He grinned then, opening his mouth.


    ¡°Please,¡± Elena interrupted, ¡°we¡¯ve been out of our comas for less than eight hours. Don¡¯t do your gangster impression.¡±


    Visibly deflating, Sterling lamented, ¡°You see that? She never lets me have any fun.¡±


    Elena patted his back, offering her husband an encouraging smile. ¡°Fun will come in its time. For now, you¡¯re right about us having a lot of work ahead of us. Even if we can¡¯t leave this room, there¡¯s still plenty of things we can set in motion.¡±


    ¡°Ahem,¡± Tricia put in pointedly, drawing their attention back to her. ¡°Motion, trotion, you haven¡¯t let me finish filling you in on everything that happened.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s more?¡± Sterling managed, a bit blankly.


    Tricia scoffed at that. ¡°Well, of course there¡¯s more. We haven¡¯t even made it to Echo¡¯s return, the deaths of the other Scions, or the army of cybernetically-enhanced animals who were about to be loosed upon the city before your son put a stop to that particular plot.¡±


    Sterling¡¯s head tilted slowly, as he considered her. ¡°You¡¯re making up that last one, right?¡±


    ¡°I most certainly am not.¡± Tricia looked offended by the very suggestion. ¡°Though I should say he didn¡¯t solve that situation on his own. He had some help from our newest recruit.


    ¡°A very special TONI cat, who calls herself Bailey.¡±

 To The Races 32-03

    Okay, so I wasn¡¯t quite on vacation just yet, despite my words to the contrary. I still had finals to get through, and with my parents awake there was even more pressure to make sure I didn¡¯t flunk out. Sure, the fear of disappointing them while they were affected by Sleeptalk had been impressive all on its own, but now that they were conscious the idea of telling them face to face that I had failed and would have to repeat all those classes again was almost enough to give me hives.


    I needed to chill out. I knew that. I wasn¡¯t going to fail. I knew all this--okay I was at least passingly familiar with most of this stuff. I could get by. Sure, I hadn¡¯t studied as much as I maybe should have throughout the past few months, and I¡¯d done the bare minimum on more than a few assignments just to get them over with so I could go back to doing Paintball stuff. But still, I wasn¡¯t completely screwed or anything. Ryder was a good tutor, and Maki had understood the subjects too. They¡¯d both helped me catch up on stuff I¡¯d fallen behind on. I just had to trust that, stop stressing out so much, and take it one question at a time. My parents were awake and safe now, how did that somehow manage to turn into more stress? What the hell was wrong with me?


    Clearly it would take entirely too long to go through that particular list. But I did manage to convince myself to breathe before taking my first final on Wednesday morning. My brain kept trying to go off on panicked tangents about all the terrible things that could happen, and boy did my brain have a bit of an imagination. Fortunately, Paige was there--and goddamn was that still ever a strange thought to have. But yes, she was there since she had finals to deal with too, and that helped me feel better. Irelyn was going to take her and Sierra on that vacation after today. Yeah, she was taking all of her finals on a single day. Normally they would¡¯ve said that was a bad idea, but Irelyn had apparently given special permission for it. And why wouldn¡¯t she? Paige would be fine taking even more finals than that, since she had all the answers. There wasn¡¯t really any stress there.


    Though, to be fair, she had plenty of other things to worry about. Like how that whole trip with Irelyn and Sierra was going to go. Sure, the older girl had accepted them and understood--well, most of that whole situation anyway. But still, she was a little concerned about what would happen on a long road trip together. There was still a lot of uncertainty with that situation.


    But honestly, just sitting on the roof of the building across from the school that morning listening to Paige play worrywart about the trip made me feel better about my own stuff. Was that weird? I hadn¡¯t stopped stressing about how my tests would go, but when I sat there looking at the building in the distance with all the students heading inside (it was their last day of finals despite being my first) while listening to Paige talk, I felt oddly at peace. All the panicked thoughts I hadn¡¯t been able to push out of my head for the past few hours drifted away, and I just smiled absently as her voice went on.


    ¡°And what if both of them start arguing over what sort of music they want to listen to?¡± Paige continued while pacing back and forth behind me on the roof. ¡°It¡¯s Irelyn¡¯s car, but Sierra can be so stubborn. And tricky. She likes to make bets she already knows the answers to so she can cheat to get her way. That¡¯s how she managed to get control of the music back at the shop, because she convinced Murphy and Roald to make a bet with her about who would score the next basket on a game, and they didn¡¯t realize there the TV was about thirty seconds behind the online broadcast she was connected to. That¡¯s what she does, just to win. If she wants to take control of Irelyn¡¯s music, what sort of bet could she cheat on and how can--did you just giggle?¡±


    Covering my mouth, I shook my head quickly before giving up. ¡°Sorry.¡± With that, I laid down on my back so I could look up at her as she stared at me. ¡°It¡¯s just funny that we¡¯re freaking out about this ordinary shit, that¡¯s all. You¡¯re afraid your new sisters won¡¯t get along on a road trip. And I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m gonna screw up these finals and end up disappointing my parents right after they just woke up. It¡¯s just--that¡¯s kind of a shift from the things we¡¯ve been worried about lately. And I guess thinking about it like that just made me stop stressing so much in the first place. Listening to you get so worked up was--sorry, I didn¡¯t mean that stuff isn¡¯t important. Just--¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay.¡± Paige sat down behind my head and gave me a lingering look. ¡°I get it, really. But you¡¯re right, you shouldn¡¯t worry so much about the tests. You¡¯ll do fine on them, Cassidy. You¡¯re much smarter than you think you are. You just overthink the questions too much sometimes. Or you get bored and just write the first thing that comes into your head so you can be done with it.¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s the first time anyone has ever accused me of overthinking,¡± I retorted with a tiny blush before shaking that off. ¡°I just know how complicated things could get if I mess this up.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± the other girl insisted, ¡°you know all this stuff. If you can deal with the stress of being Paintball, you can definitely deal with the stress of sitting in a classroom taking a few tests.¡±


    ¡°Being Paintball is--¡± I caught myself just in time. ¡°Okay, it¡¯s not easy, but it¡¯s a different kind of hard. I can handle that, usually. Sitting still, staying in my seat, filling out a test on a piece of paper? That¡¯s really hard, Paige. Making myself focus on one thing like that, not getting up and moving around? They tend to frown on that, you know? They get pretty antsy about stretching and turning around in your seat and talking to people. And they really don¡¯t like it when you start jumping up and down.That¡¯s all the stuff I do without thinking!¡±


    Putting one finger against my forehead and poking me like that while I was still lying there, Paige offered a faint smile while curiously asking. ¡°First of all, have you ever been checked for ADHD?¡±


    ¡°Oh please,¡± I shot back, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I don¡¯t just have it, I¡¯ve won it. I¡¯m the champion of ADHD. If there was a mountain called ADHD, I would¡¯ve started to climb it, then gotten distracted and wandered off. Which is basically conquering it as far as that goes. I¡¯m very, very good at it.¡±


    She chuckled softly, glancing away to look back out across the other rooftops as my stomach shifted awkwardly. ¡°Yeah, well, I suppose you¡¯re right, you do have a tendency to overachieve.¡±


    That made me snort, twisting around to sit up while my face turned pink. ¡°Look who¡¯s talking. You¡¯re the perfectionist. There¡¯s, like, nothing you can¡¯t do. And before you say it, that¡¯s not because of the Biolem thing, it¡¯s because of the Paige thing. It¡¯s because you push yourself to be better and better.¡± Biting my lip, I hesitated before turning to meet her gaze. ¡°It¡¯s like you think you have to prove something to someone, but you really don¡¯t. You don¡¯t have to prove anything to your father--or his ghost, to me, to Irelyn, or anyone. Not even to yourself. You¡¯re good just the way you are.¡± Something occurred to me then, and I added in a voice that was only barely audible, cracking partway through, ¡°You don¡¯t have to prove anything to Anthony¡¯s ghost either.¡±


    From the way Paige flinched, I had a feeling I¡¯d gotten somewhere with that. She dropped her gaze, shivering visibly before looking back up. ¡°I wasn¡¯t there, Cassidy. I wasn¡¯t there, and if I was--if I could¡¯ve helped him and his family, I could¡¯ve¡­ things wouldn¡¯t have changed so much.¡±


    My eyes closed, and I felt a bit of dampness fighting to escape while I tried to keep it under control. Remembering Anthony now, remembering what it had been like to walk in on that massacre, it was painful. But I welcomed the pain. Not in a stupid, unhealthy way. I wasn¡¯t obsessing over it or wallowing. I welcomed it because it was real. It was my real pain, my real memories, my real feelings. They weren¡¯t hidden or erased or anything anymore. I could accept that Anthony was gone, that I would never see him alive again. It hurt, and I wished it was different, but that was reality. It was something I needed to take in as part of my life, something I would have accepted a long time ago if my parents hadn¡¯t erased that. Which--yeah, I couldn¡¯t get into all that right now. Not if I was actually going to have any chance at surviving these finals.


    With effort, I found my voice. ¡°Or maybe you being there would¡¯ve made me lose you too. I know, I know, you¡¯re very strong and fast and all that. But it could¡¯ve happened. We can¡¯t ¡®what if¡¯ only the best possible outcomes. Things happened the way they happened. Maybe they could¡¯ve turned out better, maybe they could¡¯ve turned out worse. But in the end, they just turned out the way they actually did, and we have to live with that. It¡¯s not about what could have been, or what should have been. It¡¯s about what is. I miss Anthony. I wish he was here. But you don¡¯t have anything to make up for. You didn¡¯t do anything wrong. It¡¯s okay to not be perfect one hundred percent of the time. Just be Paige.¡±


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    Hah, it was her turn to blush, as she gave me a lingering stare. ¡°Yeah, well, maybe I¡¯d still like to give it the old college try, just for fun. And for the record, I¡¯m glad you have your memories back.¡±


    ¡°Oh believe me, so am I.¡± With that bit of assurance, I picked myself up and bounced up and down on my heels a couple times while shaking my hands out. ¡°I feel like I need to go for a run before they chain me to the desk for a few hours and force me to stare at dumb pieces of paper.¡±


    ¡°Go for a run, or run away?¡± Paige teased with a raised eyebrow. ¡°You are going to come back and actually go into school to take the tests in eleven minutes, right? Because that¡¯s important.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, very important, I know.¡± Making a big show of rolling my eyes, I stepped over to embrace the other girl quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll be there, I swear. I just have to¡­ um--¡± Coughing, I stepped away, releasing her. ¡°I just have to clear my head a bit so I can focus. So yeah, I¡¯ll be there for the test. And if I¡¯m not, it¡¯s just because the Earth opened up and swallowed me whole, no big deal!¡±


    Before I could head out, Paige quickly spoke up. ¡°Cassie, wait. I was just going to say, um¡­¡± She looked awkward then while I looked back at her. ¡°When you¡¯re taking your test, try reading through all the instruction parts first. Skim the questions so you¡¯re familiar with them. Find out how many questions there are and divide the exam into equal sections. If there are fifty questions, divide it into five sections of ten questions each. Make a tiny mark after every ten questions. Then you can feel like you¡¯ve completed something every time you finish a section. It divides the test up into easier chunks. So you¡¯re not trying to make your brain focus on getting from question one to question fifty, you¡¯re just making it focus from question one to question ten. Then eleven to twenty, and so on. I know, I know, it sounds stupid, but they say it can really help.¡±


    While I processed that, she tossed something to me. "And take this.¡± It was a small blue fish-shaped eraser. ¡°Put that at the top of your desk and leave it there. Every time your attention starts to wander, just look at the fish for a second to recenter yourself. That¡¯s supposed to help too. I um-I¡¯ve been researching this stuff, I guess.¡± She squirmed awkwardly before adding, ¡°Maybe it¡¯s nonsense, but it doesn¡¯t seem like it could hurt. If you don¡¯t want to do anything with--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cool,¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°I¡¯ll give it a shot. I mean, what the hell, right? I um, I--¡± Boy there was a lot I wanted to say. But all that came out was, ¡°I¡¯m gonna go now.¡± Eugh, awkward. ¡°I--time--minutes, only a few minutes to run and clear my head. Only--it¡¯s just--I¡¯ll see you soon!¡±


    With that, I climbed down the ladder. Or started to, as soon as I was partway down and certain no one could see me in that narrow alley between buildings, I let go and dropped. With a mighty, impressive sploosh, my body shifted into its liquid form just as I hit the ground and splattered all over the dumpster and wall. Maybe it was weird--okay it was definitely weird, but I loved doing that. Letting my body freaking explode into droplets, seeing the whole world from each of those droplets individually for a moment before pulling myself back together and reforming was just¡­ okay, it was freaky as hell and probably terrifying for anyone seeing it, but still. It was fun. And definitely a good way to escape a confusing conversation. Even if I was still muttering, ¡°Stupid, stupid, ¡®see you soon?¡¯ Who says that? What kind of stupid, awkward dork says see you soon? God, I¡¯m such a moron.¡±


    Yeah, it was just slightly possible that I might¡¯ve been overthinking that whole situation. But seriously, why had I suddenly felt so awkward about just telling Paige I was going to go for a run and would meet her in class? What was wrong with me? It was just--okay things were different between us, and that was taking a bit of time to get used to. Especially since we couldn¡¯t act that differently in school. Yeah, that wasn¡¯t helping. I felt weird about continuing to pretend we couldn¡¯t stand each other. There had to be a way to get out of that, especially before the summer was over. I was pretty sure I wouldn¡¯t be able to stand going through an entire school year like that.


    Of course, before I even had to think about what I was going to do over the summer, let alone once school started, I was going to have to actually get through these finals. And that meant going for a short, five minute run. It wasn''t the best case scenario, but even a quick jog would help clear my head. Even if I had to do it on the ground without any powers. I didn''t have time to change in and out of my costume. So, I was just gonna have to do this the Prev way. That was still better than sitting still. Fuck sitting still. Bane of my existence, that was.


    Unfortunately, before I could head out, a guy came around the mouth of the alley. He was walking quickly and almost ran right into me before I cleared my throat pointedly to get his attention.


    ¡°Wh--whoa!¡± The guy stumbled backward a step and almost fell over his own feet after glancing up distractedly from the phone he had been staring at. Only then did I realize who I was really looking at.


    ¡°Damarko?¡± The name came even as I reached out to catch his arm so he wouldn''t hit the ground.


    His mouth opened and shut while he stared at me, obviously trying to get his heart to slow down after being taken by surprise like that. Which, honestly, it was his own fault. He¡¯d been seriously engrossed in his phone. Finally, the boy managed, ¡°Cassidy Evans? What¡¯re you doing in--I mean why are you--I mean, what''s going on?¡± Yeah, so smooth.


    My head bobbed. ¡°That''s my name, last time I checked. And speaking of checking, I think I go to that school right over there. But don''t you go to a different school?¡± As soon as I asked that, my face twisted. ¡°Err, not that you''re not allowed to walk down any alley you feel like. I''m just saying, it kind of makes more sense for me to be standing here than someone who doesn''t go to--I mean someone who isn''t--I mean--uh, yeah, I''m just gonna shut up now.¡± This was going very well on both our parts.


    Apparently the boy agreed, because he chuckled and offered me a shrug. ¡°How about we start over? Heya Cassidy Evans, fancy meeting you in this random alley a few minutes before you have to run inside the school that you attend and I don''t.¡± He winked before adding, ¡°And to answer the question, I just walked Jae to school since we had some stuff to talk about. My school ended last week. I was, uh, taking a shortcut through this place to find some breakfast. I''d invite you, but, you know, you have classes. Which may not sound like much of a loss since you barely know my name, but believe me, I make for a straight-fire meal companion. I can ¡®hmm¡¯ and ¡®uh huh¡¯ while staring at my phone with the best of ¡®em.¡±


    Snapping my fingers as though disappointed, I lamented, ¡°Guess we''ll have to take a raincheck. Which is too bad since I really want to see your skill with the ¡®uh huh.¡¯ It sounds positively inspiring.¡±


    Right, he had been dropping Jae off. That was basically confirmation that I had been right about those two dating, right? Did Amber know yet? No, I wasn''t going to ask. That just felt like a really good way to make everything uncomfortable. When they were ready to talk about it with her, that was their business. I had enough to think about as it was. In absolutely no reality did I need to start getting involved with that sort of thing.


    Instead, I apologized for needing to run off so quickly, but that I really had a test to get to soon. He assured me that it was fine and he had breakfast to go find. So we split up and I headed back out to the street. Fortunately, I still had a few minutes to at least do a run around the school itself. I had to do something to clear my head.


    And boy did my head apparently need clearing. Because I had gone halfway around the school grounds, reaching the rear part of the school, when I glanced to the left, in the direction of the buildings across the street, and thought I saw Damarko again. He was standing on the roof of a building there, looking out at the street below. It felt like our eyes met, then I blinked and he wasn''t there anymore. If he had even been there to begin with. His form wasn''t very clear. From a distance and with the sun partially in my eyes, he was only barely visible.


    Or, just maybe, I was seeing things. I really needed to stop letting my brain go off like that. I had just seen the boy back the other way. He didn''t have time to go all the way around and end up on that roof. Not everything was some sort of ridiculous Touched absurdity. I had talked to the boy a few seconds earlier, and saw a vague blob or smudge on the roof thanks to the sun glare, and my brain made it look like him. That was all.


    What wasn''t a smear was Dani, who stepped into view after I had done my full circuit and was back around at the front. ¡°You know, if you''re trying to escape your tests, I think you need to pick a straight line and go with it.¡±


    ¡°Damn,¡± I lamented, ¡°I knew there had to be a flaw with this plan.¡± With that, I started walking toward the school itself. ¡°Are you ready for this whole school year to be over?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess the time I''ve spent here hasn''t been too bad,¡± she allowed. ¡°I still say you all are super-fucking spoiled, but you could be worse. And some of you are pretty cool.¡± She winked then before asking, ¡°I''ll just have to find some way to entertain myself over the summer. Which will be hard, but I''m sure I can manage something. How about you? You ready to get out of here?¡±


    I shrugged a little. ¡°Unlike you guys, this is just my first day of tests. I''m gonna be coming back here until Friday. But after that, yeah, I think I''ll be glad to be done with it.


    ¡°And to be honest, a vacation sounds like a pretty good idea right now.¡±

 To The Races 32-04

    The next few days of finals went about as well as could be expected. I didn''t know everything, and there was still plenty of stress around that whole thing. But I felt reasonably confident that I hadn''t completely blown any of the tests. Unfortunately, I was going to have to wait about a week before getting my results online. In the meantime, I was just going to put it out of my mind and think about other things.


    Or, more accurately, avoid thinking about as much as possible. After all, Paintball and the rest of Avant-Guard were supposed to be on vacation. If I was caught going out on patrol in costume, I would end up getting a talking to from several very disappointed authority figures. And I really didn''t want to deal with that. It just sounded awkward for everyone involved.


    Besides, Paige and Sierra were gone. They and Irelyn had left the city already, and wouldn''t be back for a couple weeks. Which was good, really good. They deserved the time together. After everything they had all been through, all the lies and confusion, they deserved a chance to get to know each other for real so they could move on together.


    On top of that, Rubi knew that Murphy and Roald were on vacation, and she was making damn sure they stuck to that. They were allowed to go to the shop and help Wren with the stuff she wanted to work on, but there was to be absolutely no active Touched activity. She, like so many others, insisted that we all needed a real break from all that.


    For some strange reason, people were under the impression that we had been run ragged by everything that had been happening lately.


    So, with Paintball officially grounded and school over, I had to do other things to occupy my time. And I wasn''t even allowed to spend all of it helping Wren. She told me that she had plenty of help for most of it, she would call if she needed more, and that I was the one who needed the biggest break. She told me to spend time with my parents, or go off by myself, or do whatever. But whatever it was, I needed to relax. Her expression was just as stern when she expressed that as everyone else''s had been. It was like everyone had gotten together and decided to gang up on me about this whole vacation thing. They all wanted me to chill for the next couple weeks.


    My parents had come home by that Saturday, the day after my last final. Well, technically, that was just the first full day that I was around without anything else to do. They actually came home Thursday evening. That was when the doctors had finally been convinced that there weren''t going to be any more side effects, and that the cure had been fully effective.


    The quarantine was over too. Which meant the city was back to full speed. With the cure readily known, and the fact that there had been no new Sleeptalk cases since the initial outbreak anyway, the freeways were completely full of people driving in and out. Seriously, they were packed. To say nothing of the airport. Apparently every flight in and out for the next while had been completely booked. Which was probably making the airline people happy, after the past weeks of being shut down.


    Then, of course, there was the little fact that we had a new cult here in the city. And not the stupid but ultimately fairly unimpressive Church of the Lamb that had been around for a while. No, this was one of those orb cults, the Garden of Badb. They were the ones who were all about setting up fighting tournaments and getting people to beat the shit out of each other in exchange for prizes that were specifically suited to them.


    Yeah, that was going to be a thing, obviously. Especially considering they were the ones who had tried to blow up the cure. I still didn''t know why they would be doing that. Why the hell would they want to destroy the cure and make targets out of themselves? Did they really want the city to stay on lockdown even longer? Maybe they thought that would make for some fun tournaments? Or maybe their main goal had been to take the cure for themselves and offer it as a prize? Whatever the answer, they had definitely made targets out of themselves. There were plenty of people here who were pissed off at them right off the bat thanks to that.


    Of course, I was pretty sure they had known that would be a thing, which made me even more worried about what their eventual plans would be. But, fortunately, they didn''t tend to ramp things up that quickly. Which meant I had plenty of time for my supposed vacation. Even if there was a part of me, a not-so-quiet part, that kept insisting that I was going to feel so guilty if people got hurt or died and I could have stopped it by going after this cult sooner. I had to tell that part to shut up, because I needed this break. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like I had some magic way of finding them. If they weren¡¯t going to show themselves very much, I just had to wait until they did. And I might as well get some sort of rest until then. That, among other arguments, was what I kept telling that part of myself whenever it tried to make me feel bad about not being out scouring the streets.


    In any case, it was Saturday morning and I was making those same arguments in my head while eating some fruit with cream out on the deck near one of Mom¡¯s flower gardens. There were a few men working on trimming one of the trees off in the distance near the east wall, and my dad was on the phone with one of his clients or business partners or something. Hell, for all I knew it was actually a hitman and they were discussing a murder contract using coded language in front of me. Somehow, at this point, I didn¡¯t think that would be at all out of the ordinary for my family.


    I wasn¡¯t too focused on what my dad was saying, though I half-listened for anything that might stand out as important. Mostly I was thinking about what I had found out at Maki¡¯s. Yes, yes, that did mean I was sorta dwelling on the whole Abyssal situation, but not for myself. I¡¯d basically been convinced that it wasn¡¯t actually me. No, I was still thinking about who it could be. The idea that there was someone here in this city who might be one of those monsters was¡­ actually it made me wonder how Maki knew that. Or at least what had convinced them that it was a thing. They somehow knew (or believed) that someone on their list was an Abyssal, but those names were people of all ages from all sorts of situations. And it wasn¡¯t like they were all tied to being one specific possible Abyssal. That whole list was just ¡®people who could potentially be one of several Abyssals based on their proximity and lack of a ready explanation of their whereabouts.¡¯


    And for that matter, I¡¯d had that whole question of why proximity mattered anyway. If Abyssals could potentially teleport elsewhere, why did it matter that I had been within a couple hundred miles of one of the Collision Points? Though I¡¯d somewhat vaguely answered that for myself. According to what I could find out, the thought was that Abyssals didn¡¯t tend to teleport much further than those two hundred miles or so when they had their big fights. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what that was based on, but people smarter than me were saying it after looking at the evidence, so sure. Maybe I would ask Paige about that whole thing when she got back from her own trip. And it didn¡¯t explain why I would be a suspect for Collision Points that had been much further away. Except that ¡®tended to¡¯ wasn¡¯t a rule written in--


    My spoon hit something fleshy. Blinking down, I found my father¡¯s hand covering the bowl, and looked up to see him raising an eyebrow at me with a slightly amused look. ¡°Oh, that you notice.¡±


    Right, maybe I hadn¡¯t been paying as much attention to what he was doing as I thought. I¡¯d really let my mind drift right then. It occurred to me, playing back the last few seconds in my memory, that he had said my name a couple times while I was zoning out focusing on Maki¡¯s whole thing. His phone call had ended, the thing sitting on the table nearby, next to his own empty bowl.


    At one point, I might¡¯ve tried to make up an excuse about why I hadn¡¯t been paying attention. Which probably would¡¯ve seemed even more suspicious. Now, however, aside from a slight blush that I couldn¡¯t control, I just squirmed slightly and replied, ¡°Oh, sorry, what¡¯d you say?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my child,¡± Dad teased with a small smile, ¡°always so keenly aware of their surroundings. A monk-like focus on the world around them. Cassidy Evans, at one with their environment.¡±


    There was a lot I could¡¯ve said to that, some of which wouldn¡¯t even have meant exposing either of our secrets. Instead, I just lifted my chin a bit. ¡°Well excuse me, maybe I¡¯m just accustomed to tuning you out because everything you have to say is so incredibly unimportant and boring.¡±


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    At first, when my parents got back to the house, I¡¯d thought things might be awkward or strange. After all, they¡¯d been through something very¡­ dramatic. They could have died, and there were so many things I never would¡¯ve been able to tell them. Yeah, that had lasted for a few minutes, before Dad made a crack about it being the thought of me being able to drive very soon that had been what really put him and Mom into their comas. Then Simon said that must¡¯ve been what happened to everyone in the hospital, so I kicked him in the shin. He grabbed me, Izzy grabbed him, we fell into what had to look like one of those cartoon dust balls fighting each other until Mom said our full names to make us stop. Then we went back to eating dinner and¡­ and everything was normal. That was all it took to make everyone act like Mom and Dad hadn¡¯t just been incapacitated by Sleeptalk for all that time. Just like that, everything basically went back to the way it had been. Or maybe I was just good at faking it. Maybe we were all good at faking it.


    Adopting a scandalized tone as he gasped, Dad pointed at me. ¡°Unimportant and boring? Well, last time I checked, you didn¡¯t think that the LEAT games were unimportant and boring. But, if you¡¯ve changed your mind, I guess we can just toss the tickets in the shredder and go on with--¡±


    ¡°Wait, what¡¯re you talking about?¡± I managed, giving him a confused, disbelieving look. LEAT, in this case, stood for Larkin¡¯s Enhanced Athletic Tournament, named after its founder, Dennis Larkin. It was basically a huge competition full of various physical events and games for people who were--well, enhanced. That meant either Touched themselves, or through having Touched-Tech installed. There were various tiers that you could join based on just how enhanced you were, with a very elaborate process for how that was judged. It was a national competition, basically, with people attending from all over the country. This year it was supposed to be held in Arizona, since they had really been pushing to become a big tourism place recently. I¡¯d always wanted to go and see the games in person, but the problem was that they tended to hold it during the first few weeks of summer, and for the past seven or eight years, my parents had always had some big investors meeting or something going on in that time. And it wasn¡¯t like they were going to send me off to another state without them, even with Simon.


    My father was giving me a sly look. ¡°I thought that might just catch your attention. I went ahead and picked up full passes for the whole event, and we¡¯ll be staying there for all of it. That includes several meals with some of the participants and one-on-one discussions with the Techs who designed the best enhancements. So I hope you didn¡¯t have any plans for next week. Because, well, you won¡¯t be here to follow through with them. All of us are going.¡±


    My head was already shaking. ¡°Dad, I know you have business stuff to deal with. You were--uh--you know, out of it for weeks. You have work to catch up on. You couldn¡¯t blow that stuff off even before you lost weeks-worth of work. I know how that is. You don¡¯t have to--¡±


    He interrupted me with a raised finger. ¡°Stop, Cassidy. Why do you think I¡¯ve been on the phone for the past hour and a half? Yes, we rearranged a few things that we might not have before. But this isn¡¯t any ordinary year. You¡¯re right, your mother and I have been¡­ gone for weeks. That set us back. But the time we¡¯ve lost with you and your siblings is a hell of a lot more important than work. That¡¯s the time we won¡¯t get back. Our business will always be there. Those people can wait. Those meetings can wait. We rearranged some of them, and others--well they can come to us in Arizona and we¡¯ll meet with them between the big events. Or not, but that¡¯s up to them. Either way, that¡¯s where we¡¯ll be. We¡¯re leaving tomorrow morning and coming back next Sunday.¡±


    He got all that out before visibly blanching. ¡°Ehh you know, I meant that whole thing to be a fun surprise, but it occurs to me that you might actually have made summer plans with someone.¡±


    Somehow, I restrained myself from immediately mentioning all the things I could have been busy doing. Instead, I smiled slightly while sitting up in my seat as I primly replied, ¡°Ahem, I mean, I guess I could take rain checks for all those dates I was supposed to go on if you¡¯re saying we can go see the LEAT games instead. I¡¯ll just have a bunch of disappointed people on my hands.¡±


    Dad made a noise in the back of his throat. ¡°All those dates? A bunch of disappointed people? I think I have a new idea, we¡¯ll check out boarding schools in Arizona while we¡¯re there and see if they¡¯ll take on a new student who happens to need twenty-four seven monitoring. Maybe one of those ankle bracelets and we can set it to sound an alarm if anyone else gets within an inch.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I like about you, oh father of mine,¡± I informed him with as straight of a face and flat of a tone as I could manage, ¡°you never overreact to the idea of me having a romantic life.¡±


    Miming plugging his ears with his fingers, Dad made a face at me before clearing his throat. ¡°Ahem, since you haven¡¯t said anything at all for the past twenty seconds, I¡¯m just going to assume that you had no plans and you¡¯re very eager to go see these games. Clearly you¡¯ve just been hugging me so hard in gratitude that I blacked out from lack of air. That would explain it.¡±


    Snickering despite myself, I pushed myself up quickly before moving to embrace him while he remained seated in the other chair. God, it felt good. And it felt even better when I felt his hand move up to rest against my back. ¡°Thanks, Dad. You really didn¡¯t have to do that. I would¡¯ve been just fine watching it in our theater. I¡¯m pretty sure that screen¡¯s so big it makes them bigger than life-sized. They might look smaller than I¡¯m used to if I watch them in person. It¡¯ll be kinda weird.¡±


    Dad snorted at that, giving me a poke in the shoulder with the hand he had been resting on my back. ¡°What, you mean our nation¡¯s top Touched athletes aren¡¯t actually nine feet tall? I feel so lied to and manipulated.¡± He paused then before straightening up to rise from the seat while giving me a fond look. ¡°Well, since that¡¯s been taken care of and I went ahead and spoiled the surprise, why don¡¯t you go tell Izzy what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Following my father''s advice, I headed inside with our bowls, dropping them off in the kitchen before going to find Izzy. She was upstairs, just coming out of the bathroom freshly showered when I tugged her into my room to talk about this sudden trip. Then I made sure we were alone in there and that there weren¡¯t any maids messing around in my closet or anything. I figured some subjects might come up that we didn¡¯t want to share with the household staff.


    And yes, the fact that it took more than a two second glance around the room to ensure that no one else was in there probably said something about the absurd size of the place.


    ¡°We¡­ we''re leaving Michigan?¡± The way she immediately blurted that out an instant after I finished explaining made me realize that she had probably barely even left the city limits now and then, basically only for Minority stuff, and had likely never actually ventured away from the actual state itself. And judging by the suddenly nervous look on her face, it was a rather daunting prospect.


    Was it weird that I found that kind of cute? And a bit of a relief. This, at least, was something totally normal to be anxious about. There was no life and death terror, no horrible, stomach-churning stress about who might live or die based on what I did in the next ten seconds. This was just my new sister, being uncertain about going so far away from home. This was something I could actually deal with. Uh, hopefully.


    Taking her hands, I squeezed them and offered her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. ¡°Hey, it''s gonna be okay, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll all be there together. It''ll be fun to be in a new place. I¡¯ve never actually been to Arizona before. Other places sure, not there. We can explore and hang out at all those new tourist trap places they¡¯ve been putting up lately. Besides, the games really are a lot of fun to watch. I bet they''re even better in person when you can see stuff they don''t put on the monitors. Seriously, some of those people really like to show off, and it can get pretty intense. Have you paid much attention to that stuff before?¡±


    Izzy shook her head, still looking a bit apprehensive about the whole idea. ¡°I''ve seen the games in the background a couple times, but I never actually watched them. They seemed really¡­ uhh, intense?¡±


    I gave her a quick grin, already thinking about some of the other games I¡¯d seen over the past few years. ¡°Oh you have no idea. They can get pretty ridiculous. It''s awesome. I can''t believe it''s almost time for them. Usually I pay more attention. I get hyped up for weeks before the games even start. I guess this year I was a little distracted.¡± After a brief pause, my face twisted. ¡°You know, for some strange reason.¡±


    Izzy winced at that before squeezing my hands. ¡°Well, I guess I''ll need you to explain stuff so I know what''s going on. Could you be my walking, talking event program?¡± Immediately after asking that, she adopted a thoughtful expression. ¡°Though knowing you guys, you probably actually have life-sized robots to lead you around these places and tell you about everything. Or maybe the information is beamed directly into your heads from a devoted satellite. Do you have any sort of chip plugged into your head for that sort of thing?¡±


    That made me laugh despite myself. ¡°Nope, we don¡¯t have anything quite like that, sorry. No brain chips to catch information from orbiting satellites. I mean, if we did, I definitely would¡¯ve used that before finals. You''ll have to make do with just having me to tell you what''s going on. But you''re good with this?¡±


    She visibly swallowed, still a bit nervous despite clearly doing her best to push that aside and focus on being excited about this. ¡°Uh huh, it''s not like we''re allowed to go out and patrol or anything for the next couple weeks, so I guess it''s happening.


    ¡°We''re going to the races in Arizona.¡±

 To The Races 32-05

    Obviously, I went by the shop to let the others know that I was going to be out of town for the next week. Honestly, I was pretty sure Fred at the very least was absolutely relieved about that. Not that he didn''t like me or anything, we had definitely gotten past that particular rocky start to our relationship back when he had pointed Wren¡¯s gun at me while I was looking for answers about those vials. No, he was just relieved because if I was gone there was even less chance of his niece and the others finding a way to get into trouble. With Paige, Sierra, and me all out of the city, there was little reason to try to go on patrol or anything. They had absolutely no reason to go against the firm request that we take a break. All of them could actually rest for once. Well, rest and work on Wren¡¯s inventions. Which she seemed to see as a break anyway.


    Honestly, she deserved this. They all did. That was one of the reasons why I hadn''t argued against the forced vacation too much. Because it wasn''t just about me. It wasn''t only about my break and my sanity. I had been asking a lot from these guys for a while now. Too much, really. They needed this, probably more than they would easily admit.


    And, well, to be honest, I was looking forward to having the break as well. Yes, there was a part of me that felt guilty about even considering it, but seriously, I had been running at full speed for so long without actually having a chance to mentally process everything properly. So much had happened, and I had barely thought about it.


    Not to mention, I was still giddy about going to see the games. I had watched them online or in our private theater for as long as I could remember. Going to see them in person? That was a real treat, one I couldn''t pretend I wasn''t excited about. So yes, I might have gushed about how fun it was going to be a little bit.


    Of course, I immediately felt guilty about that as soon as Qwerty made some noise about possibly going with, especially when he found out exactly what these games I was going to watch were. Unfortunately, I had to explain to him that there was no way I could keep him with me while staying around my family. He stood out just a little too much. We couldn''t exactly put a fake mustache and glasses on him and pretend that he was some other half-parrot, half-squirrel TONI with no relation to the one on Avant-Guard. Even if the idea did make everyone in the room giggle a little bit.


    The giggling included all of the Cuddles, who promised their new friend that they could watch the games on television right there in the shop. He still seemed a little disappointed that he wouldn''t be able to go with and see them in person, but it did help. As did Fred promising they could get big bowls of popcorn and nuts, and that Qwerty could have his very own to swim around in like Scrooge McDuck in his money. Which, of course, meant they had to explain who that even was, and start to play that particular cartoon for the little guy.


    Yeah, they weren''t going to get much work done for a while. But that seemed okay to me, as I stood in the doorway to Wren¡¯s workshop and watched her, Qwerty, the Cuddles, and even Murphy and Roald perched in front of one of the large monitors there to watch while that earworm of a theme song filled the room. Before it was even halfway done, Qwerty was already bouncing back and forth, dancing. Which made the Cuddles start showing off their own moves as well. They played the song a couple more times like that before even moving on with the actual episode. Something told me this was gonna be a hit with the whole group. And Qwerty wasn''t thinking about being disappointed about not going with anymore, which was another big plus.


    Peyton was standing next to me, watching the others as well for a moment before speaking in a soft voice. ¡°I sure hope everything has the common decency to stay quiet for the next week while you''re gone.¡±


    I snorted despite myself. ¡°Somehow, that particular decency doesn''t seem common at all. But it doesn''t matter, there''s plenty of people here in the city to deal with anything that pops up. The rest of the Stars are on their feet, plus we still have some of those guests who came to help. They haven''t left yet. Between them and the national guard who stuck around to help with the cleanup, I think they''ve got it handled. Just use this vacation.¡± I turned to face her, my finger poking the girl in the nose. ¡°Are we totally clear on that? You need a vacation as much as any of us. No going out by yourself just because you''re still here and you have powers. You don''t need to keep up with anything. Let everyone else handle things around here.¡±


    From the somewhat guilty expression that crossed her face, I was pretty sure she¡¯d had that very thought, at least about having some sort of responsibility to go out there since she was a Star-Touched. but she gave a short nod and held her hand up. ¡°I solemnly swear that I will not go out there while you''re gone unless it''s a real emergency and I don''t have any other choice. And even then, I definitely won¡¯t go out by myself.¡±


    There was a lot I wanted to say to that, but it was probably the best I was going to get, especially under the circumstances. And now I knew how Paige had felt when she had made me give basically the same promise before being taken on that trip with her sisters. Maybe we really did have a problem when it came to taking an actual break.


    I stuck around for a bit longer, watching an episode or two of the cartoon before saying my goodbyes. I promised to check in every day and keep track of what was going on, and made the others all promise to stick to being on vacation as well. I also promised that as soon as I got back, we would figure out what to do about the whole Cuddles runaway situation. That definitely still needed to be addressed, even if I wasn''t sure how it would go.


    In the end, I gave everyone a hug, even the tiniest of them (Cherry the duckling had a strong embrace), before heading out. On the way, I dropped off another envelope full of cash from both Paige and me with Fred and told him to use it to get whatever they needed that wasn''t in the supplies the Ministry had paid us with.


    With that done and the goodbyes to my team given, I met up with Amber for lunch. She had already heard from both Izzy and me about what was going on, and had insisted on meeting up to talk in person. Honestly, I felt like she was probably going a little stir crazy with being on her own in forced vacation. Maybe even worse than me, given she wanted to distract herself from the Whamline thing.


    We picked up tacos from a stand and took them to a park. It was full of people, everyone taking advantage of Sleeptalk being cured and the quarantine being lifted to get the hell out of their houses. There was a youth baseball game going on on the nearby field, and the bleachers were almost completely full. Everyone was taking any excuse they could to get out. And from the sound of things, they were really getting into the game.


    While the stands were full, Amber and I had found a picnic table past the outfield where we could sit and eat while keeping half an eye on the game.


    Even the gangs seemed to be taking a little break, considering I hadn''t heard about anything more than the occasional small crime happening in the past couple days. Part of me wondered if that was thanks to strict orders from the Ministry to chill out and let people get their heads on straight again.


    Whatever the reasoning, I wasn''t going to argue with it. I just hoped things stayed relatively quiet for the entirety of the next week. I wasn''t going to entirely count on that, but still. It was nice to dream. And either way, whatever did happen wouldn''t be for us to worry about. It was like I had said before, they had plenty of people here who could handle things. We just had to accept that and relax.


    Amber, for her part, informed me that she would be leaving for a few days as well. Apparently her mother was taking her on a trip to see her grandparents. That was, her father''s parents. Now that they had answers about who had actually killed Amber¡¯s dad, they were going to tell his mother and father about it in person. Which was obviously a big deal. Amber was trying to stay calm about it, yet I could tell she was kind of freaking out anyway. It was made somewhat easier by the fact that they knew Amber was That-A-Way, but it still wouldn''t exactly be the smoothest conversation. Especially not when they got into the details of all that.


    Unfortunately, I really had no idea what I could say to make her feel better. The best I could manage was to say that I was sure her grandparents would be glad to have actual closure on the subject. Which sounded lame even as I was saying it, but Amber still thanked me. Then we ate our tacos in silence for a minute or so, each of us lost in our own thoughts about what we were going to be doing over the next few days. Somehow, I felt like Amber would almost rather have been in another life and death fight than look her grandparents in the eyes and tell them that she had spent a year on a team with the boy who killed their son. I was sure they wouldn''t blame her or anything, but that didn''t stop Amber from being afraid of their reaction. Or even just their silent disappointment. I really couldn''t blame her for being nervous. Especially when I considered the sort of serious conversations I was going to need to have with my own family someday.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    But hey, at least I wouldn''t have to talk to Grandpa Jacopo. Not after my father had cut his head off for trying to have me kidnapped while my best friend and his entire household were executed. Clearly, I had come out on top of that situation.


    Okay, yeah, even that thought was a little too dark. My brain really needed to shut up, because it was seriously failing at lightening the mood.


    The good news was that I was suddenly distracted and didn''t have to think about that anymore. The bad news was that the distraction came in the form of an armored truck that went screaming past the park with its emergency lights and siren blaring. A figure was flying just overhead in obvious pursuit.


    Amber and I looked at each other and blurted, ¡°Deicide?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be on vacation, they¡¯ll chew our hides if we get involved in that. Whatever it is, it can''t be a big enough deal for us to violate that.¡± I could just imagine myself having to sit at a table across from all the people who had told me to take a break. The thought of having to explain why I had jumped in the very second situation presented itself wasn''t great.


    But on the other hand, did that even matter? Who cared if I got in trouble for helping? What if that truck hit someone? What if one of Deicide¡¯s attacks happened to catch a civilian accidentally? Would I feel good about following instructions and avoiding disappointed looks if someone got hurt or worse because of it? Yeah, this was just an armored car chase at this point, but who knew how it could deteriorate? Anything could happen with this.


    Amber was standing up, grabbing my hand. In the background, the baseball game had stopped for a moment while people stared after the truck and the figure that had been following it. A few people who had been using their phones to record the game were playing back the footage. And there were a few uncertain murmurs. I even saw a couple fans head for their cars to leave. But when there didn''t seem to be any sort of immediate follow up and it was clear that the chase had continued on past the park, the game got back underway.


    Amber, by that point, was dragging me toward the restroom. ¡°We won''t get involved unless we have to, but I''ve got a couple of private teleport places I¡¯ve plotted out across the city, we can follow that truck and see what''s going on. We don''t even have to change.¡±


    Yeah, I did want to know what the hell that was about. I couldn''t imagine what could possibly be in some random armored truck that would make Deicide chase after it like that. There was something going on, and I couldn''t help but be curious. Still, I made Amber promise that we would stay out of sight. Neither of us needed to get in trouble just a couple days into what was supposed to be our vacation. And I definitely didn''t need to be caught out as myself following some sort of armored car robbery. I couldn''t even imagine the type of discussion with my parents that would lead to.


    We ran to the restrooms. I was pretty sure we didn''t stand out at all, since anyone looking would just assume we had gotten nervous like those other people and were leaving. Either way, as soon as we were out of sight, Amber took my hand and teleported both of us to a concealed spot on top of a building several blocks away. Apparently she had memorized a fair number of locations like this, hidden areas she could teleport to without easily being seen. That one had a vine-covered trellis around three sides and over the top, and faced the blank wall of the nearby taller building.


    We made another couple jumps like that before eventually stopping as Amber turned to point down the street. Sure enough, the truck was approaching from that way. Deicide was still pursuing it, while the driver swerved erratically to avoid the paper blades she was sending at it.


    Yeah, this whole thing was still confusing. What the hell was in that truck that was so important, and why didn''t it have any sort of escort? It was marked with the logo from Ten Towers, so it really could''ve had anything. But there should''ve been more guards with it. Maybe they had already been ditched? I couldn''t figure out what was going on here. My best guess was that Ten Towers had been attempting to ship something important under the radar by not surrounding it with as many guards as they should have. But apparently that hadn''t worked, considering Deicide¡¯s presence. Did that mean that she was going against what I had assumed was an order to stand down for a while? Or had she received permission for this? She didn''t really strike me as someone who would directly go against the Ministry like that. Then again, I was just assuming that they had given that order, I didn''t know for certain.


    There were a lot of assumptions going on. Part of me wondered if we should be changing into our costumes anyway, vacation be damned. But I had no idea what was in that truck. If it wasn''t a big deal, and this little chase wasn''t endangering anyone directly, we probably couldn''t justify jumping in. Not to mention the fact that Amber didn''t have the convenient costume transport bag that I did. I wasn''t sure she had anything with her at all.


    Just in case, after another moment of consideration, I grabbed my mask and helmet from the bag and put them on. Then I took a breath and let it out, melting into a puddle right next to Amber after giving the other girl a quick warning. A second later, I reformed, this time in a more¡­ masculine form. I had all, uhh, boy parts. Which was just-- not something I could dwell on right then. But at the very least, if I had to jump in, I wouldn''t immediately expose my secret.


    Amber, looking sidelong at me, gave a low whistle. ¡°Now that¡¯s impressive.¡±


    My blush deepened as the truck and its pursuer drew closer and closer. I was trying to think of some way to do some sort of subtle intervention. Maybe I could hit the truck with some green paint and her with yellow to give them some more separation so it could escape? I didn''t have to jump in openly and publicly. If there was a chance that I could help without being obvious about it, that could work. And if anyone did notice me, I had the mask and helmet on, and was in my masc form.


    Beside me, Amber put a hand on my arm and pointed down the street in the opposite direction, away from our hiding spot. ¡°Look, they''re ready for them.¡±


    Sure enough, I saw a roadblock set up there with several other Towers guards and Touched. They were ready to intercept. Right, good, so we didn''t have to piss everyone off by violating our vacation and jumping in. This was okay. It was all okay. Most likely, Deicide would take off as soon as she saw that the truck had reinforcements. That was a load off our shoulders. I really hadn''t been looking forward to having to explain to everyone, including my own team, how I had been dragged into another situation like this. I didn''t think they would believe that it was completely random and not my fault at all.


    Unfortunately, just as I had that thought, Deicide flew ahead of the truck and hovered in front of it, almost directly below us. The driver suddenly swerved around her, taking the truck through a chain-link fence and toward a small auto shop. The vehicle went through the doors with a loud screech of tearing metal and the scream of protesting brakes. Fortunately, it looked like the shop was closed. There were no other vehicles around.


    But that was where the good news sharply ended. Because just as the Towers people started to react to the crash and head that way, Amber and I watched Deicide land on the ground behind the part of the truck that was still sticking out the shop. She used her paper blades to cut into it, making a hole in the door. So whatever she was after, the woman was about to get it. At the same time, the driver went running out the side door of the shop. He was aiming his gun that way while firing repeatedly. It looked like he was just blindly shooting. Not that that was likely to accomplish anything, considering the strength of Deicide¡¯s paper armor.


    Or at least, it shouldn''t have accomplished anything. But Amber suddenly made a noise, lunging to her feet while snapping something about gas. My eyes snapped to where she was looking. Sure enough, there were several barrels leaking gasoline nearby, apparently damaged when the truck crashed through the garage. We could see the liquid pooling under Deicide¡¯s feet.


    This was bad. She hadn''t noticed what she was standing in. Hell, it looked like she had barely noticed the fleeing man shooting at her. All of the woman''s attention was on getting into the truck. She didn''t care about anything else.


    Amber and I didn''t care about getting in trouble or anything else anymore. It didn''t matter. Yes, Deicide was a villain, a Fell, but she didn''t deserve to die. We couldn¡¯t just sit there and watch.


    And yet, before we could even move, a figure appeared between us, hands grabbing our arms.


    It was Skip. She held us tight, her voice firm. ¡°Wait.¡±


    We couldn''t argue. We couldn''t say anything at all. There wasn''t time. In the next second, the fleeing guard fired one more shot. That was enough. Suddenly, the gasoline erupted. The whole garage exploded into a massive fireball. Deicide was taken completely by surprise, standing right there at ground zero, in the center of that explosion. There must''ve been a lot of gas in that place, because it went up like a bomb.


    Amber and I were both left staring that way in shock as the explosion settled, revealing what very little was left of the building and truck. As for Deicide, she¡­ she was gone. There were a few scattered burning papers fluttering through the air. Other than that, she had been completely annihilated. All while we stood there and watched.


    All while we were made to stand there and watch.


    ¡°So,¡± Skip announced slowly and flatly while Amber and I both turned to stare at her, ¡°I imagine you would like an explanation.¡±

 To The Races 32-06

    One thing was for certain, Skip was right about us needing an explanation about what the hell was going on right then. First, however, the other girl disappeared for a few seconds, saying she would return as soon as possible, but that we should wait without jumping in because things weren¡¯t what they seemed to be. She promised we would get answers if we were patient. She just needed us to trust her.


    In that time, I quickly took my bluetooth earpiece and put it in before adjusting the thing to change my voice properly so it would match the voice she was used to hearing from Paintball. It was a good thing Skip hadn¡¯t made us say much in front of her. Between that and the fact that I had put my mask and helmet on and shifted into my, uhh, masculine form just before she showed up, I really was lucky. The thought of how bad this could¡¯ve been if she had found us while I was still very obviously Cassidy Evans sent a shudder through me. Skip was cool and all (at least I thought she was cool, even if this whole not letting us rush in to save Deicide thing was confusing) but still. I really didn¡¯t want to deal with her finding out my real identity right now, thank you very much.


    She came back before we could do much more than look at each other in confusion while the fire from that explosion continued to utterly destroy the auto shop that had been there. ¡°Okay, I have permission to tell you. But only you.¡± Her gaze was hard and pointed. ¡°You cannot tell the rest of your teams. This is very important. The secret cannot go any further than you two. That¡¯s it.¡±


    Well, I wasn¡¯t sure what to say to that. I didn¡¯t like the idea of keeping secrets from my friends. And from the look on Amber¡¯s face, she wasn¡¯t a huge fan of it either. But did we really have that much of a choice? Besides, this was Skip. I was pretty sure she wouldn¡¯t be asking us to keep quiet about anything that awful. This felt more like¡­ not giving away personal secrets. Though I wasn¡¯t sure exactly what that had to do with us having seen Deicide get blown the fuck up.


    In the end, the only way we were going to get any answers, especially about why Skip didn¡¯t want us to go down there, was by agreeing to keep it secret. So, that¡¯s what we did, swearing we wouldn¡¯t tell our teams what we were about to find out. But we also both added that we were only swearing to that as long as it wouldn¡¯t end up putting those teams in any immediate danger.


    Obviously, Amber and I watched and listened in rapt attention as Skip explained the actual situation. Or at least as she gave the short version. Which was already wild enough by itself.


    It turned out that Deicide wasn¡¯t dead after all. Everything we had just seen, that whole situation, was fake. That was why there hadn¡¯t been more of an escort for that truck, and why she had seemed to be so obsessed with getting into the thing. Deicide wasn¡¯t dead, she was switching sides. Which, yeah, was absolutely mind-blowing enough all on its own. Deicide was changing sides? Or, rather, the person behind that identity was switching sides. She was allowing Deicide herself to be considered dead so she could pretend to be someone else and¡­ and¡­ wow. Just fucking wow. I had no idea how to react to that, to be perfectly honest. It was just a lot to absorb.


    Amber obviously thought so too, because she held up a hand for Skip to stop once we got that far, turning to look back at the destruction below. The firefighters had already shown up, bolstered by a couple Ten Towers trucks helping to make sure the blaze was completely contained. With the suppression technology they had, it only took a few minutes to deal with. Obviously, that location had been chosen carefully to ensure the fire wouldn¡¯t spread too far.


    ¡°So you¡¯re just going to let her walk away from everything she¡¯s done?¡± Amber finally asked after taking a moment to stare at the fire. Her voice was as flat as Skip¡¯s normally was, her emotions about this hard to actually read beyond the actual words she was saying. ¡°All the trouble she¡¯s caused, the people she¡¯s hurt, the deaths she¡¯s responsible for. Everything she¡¯s done, and you¡¯re going to let her walk away from it just like that? She gets another chance to be better, just because she decided to switch sides?¡±


    Below us, more police cars had shown up, and everyone was starting to gather to stare that way. I could see news vans arriving as well. Yeah, this was already turning into a big story. Of course it was. They wanted all those people to be talking about the supposed ¡®death of Deicide.¡¯


    ¡°It is not the most¡­ perfect of solutions,¡± Skip admitted simply. ¡°Many would agree that she belongs in prison for her actions. And yet, prison would take her off the board. It would prevent her from utilizing her gifts for the benefit of humanity. Is it better to make her sit in a cell doing nothing? Or even on Breakwater if enough decided she belonged there? Or should she be made to do some good with those abilities? She has caused, directly and indirectly, the deaths of others. But she can also prevent many deaths if her gifts are put to better use. She was never the most¡­ intentionally dangerous, evil Fell leader in the city. Not the best either, but certainly far from the worst. She has a goal, one she saw as only attainable through her previous actions. We have convinced her that changing sides, that becoming something better, can help with that goal. I believe, given the chance, she may become a truly better person and help many people.¡±


    Amber and I exchanged looks at that. But honestly, what were we supposed to do, start crowing to the public that Deicide wasn¡¯t dead after all? Even if they did believe us, which was doubtful, we would be throwing away any trust we had with Ten Towers, and probably other groups. Beyond which, Skip was right, the woman could do better things this way. Besides, she was being taken in by Ten Towers, and I had to believe they¡¯d keep an eye on her. To which end, I finally turned to ask, ¡°You¡¯re just going to pretend someone who happens to have her exact same powers and is also a grown woman showed up right after she ¡®died?¡¯


    Skip shook her head at that, pausing a bit before gesturing to Amber. ¡°You may wish to don your disguise before we go any further. Unless you want her to see you in your civilian form like this.¡±


    Again, the other girl and I looked at each other. Apparently Deicide herself was going to come explain things. What a treat. Maybe she could convince us that she really was willing to change.


    Taking the special domino mask from her pocket, Amber set it against her face and let the thing attach. Her features shifted just enough that she wouldn¡¯t be recognized, nose, eyes, and other subtle parts of her face changing alongside her hair color as that shifted from black to blonde. With that, she was disguised.


    I was also hoping this wouldn''t take long. As shocked as I was by this whole news, it was also June, making it a bit too warm to wear a ski mask under my helmet. This was probably the hottest day we''d had so far. So maybe it was a good thing that I wasn''t allowed to be running around in costume right now. I was going to have to figure something out if we were going to be doing this stuff in the summer.


    But then, I didn''t have time to think about being too warm. Because a figure floated up on a platform made from dozens of pieces of paper before landing on the roof next to us. A figure in a ski mask not unlike my own. And that really wasn''t the only immediately apparent similarity between us.


    ¡°Uh,¡± Amber managed, ¡°what the fuck is this?¡±


    Deicide, because that had to be who this was, wasn''t a grown woman after all. Even behind that ski mask, that much was obvious. She was clearly a teenager. She had to be. Under that paper armor she wore all the time, behind the disguised voice that came from those books that always floated around her, the actual truth was that she couldn''t have been much older than I was.


    That was a realization that made me rock backwards on my heels. Deicide, a teenager? She had been practically a kid the whole time?! She was--holy shit. No, just--what the fuck? I couldn¡¯t process that. Not this easily or quickly, at least. I needed some time to let that really sink in.


    As for the girl in question, she looked back and forth between us before audibly coughing. ¡°Okay, this really isn''t how this was supposed to go. No one else was supposed to know anything about this.¡± She shot a quick look toward Skip, her tone somewhat sharp, but with obvious nervousness just below the surface. This situation made her uncomfortable. More than that. She was afraid. Which, I supposed, made sense. As confused as we were, this was probably the most vulnerable she¡¯d ever been since ¡®becoming¡¯ Deicide. ¡°We had a deal about keeping this secret. No one else knew anything about me for that entire time, and now it''s you, your sister, that¡­ guard, and these two. This whole thing is getting entirely crowded for my taste.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Skip, for her part, replied in as flat and apparently emotionless of a voice as ever, ¡°I could hardly have planned for both of them to be nearby in their civilian lives. Let alone that they would pursue the situation against the orders to stay out of things. That was an entirely unexpected development.¡± She paused before pointedly adding, ¡°Sometimes, one must run with those.¡±


    I immediately gave an audible snort despite myself. ¡°Right, yeah, sometimes unexpected things happen. Like, oh, just for a random hypothetical example, you might find out that someone you thought was a grown adult running a criminal gang is actually a teenage girl who wants to fake her death and switch sides so she can become a hero after all. You know, after extracting a favor for handing over a vial that was necessary to save an innocent child¡¯s life. Something like that.¡±


    To her credit, Deicide-- or the girl who had once used that name-- visibly flinched. I heard her exhale before meeting my gaze. ¡°I''m sorry. I honestly had no idea that doing that favor would put you in that much danger. I wouldn''t have sent you to investigate Amanda Sanvers if I had known who she really was. I thought getting that information would be useful for stopping the Scions.¡±


    Beside me, Amber spoke up. ¡°I guess you could say it eventually led to that, but only after they did a lot more damage. And only after several of us were almost killed by that bitch.¡±


    ¡°Which isn''t exactly directly your fault,¡± I noted. ¡°But it is the truth. And you didn''t choose to switch sides then. You didn''t have a change of heart when you found out what happened. You kept up with this war against Oscuro. Which hurt and killed people. So why the change of heart now? None of that made you switch sides. None of it stopped you. And I doubt it was just a result of that whole quarantine situation, since that¡¯s over. What happened to make you suddenly decide that letting Deicide die and taking up a whole new Star-Touched identity is the way to go?¡±


    Amber and I both watched expectantly for an answer to that while the girl looked at Skip, then turned back to us. ¡°This may not be what you want to hear, but it''s about Cu¨¦lebre. It¡¯s always been about Cu¨¦lebre. I have my reasons, personal reasons that I''m not getting into, for wanting him brought down. That''s all I ever wanted. Call it an obsession if you want. It probably is. And it''s definitely personal. I want him stopped. I need him to be brought down. Color it with whatever friendly euphemism you want, but that¡¯s what it comes down to. I want Cu¨¦lebre to be stopped.¡±


    Amber gave her a long, pointed look at that. ¡°All the shit you''ve done, all the shit you''ve let your underlings do, it''s all been one long ploy to use them against Cu¨¦lebre? You must really fucking hate that guy. And you know what? I don''t really care about your personal reasons. Okay, that''s kind of a lie. I do care. I''m curious about what can make you so pissed at that guy. But not nearly as much as I care about the fact that you let innocent people get hurt thanks to that obsession. You haven¡¯t decided to become a better person thanks to real growth or anything, have you? Skip just convinced you that you have a better chance of getting this revenge you want if you switch sides. You weren¡¯t getting anywhere as Deicide. Half your lieutenants betrayed you right at the worst possible time, and now Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s probably even stronger than he ever has been. He¡¯s got more allies now, a whole other Fell gang willing to work with him. You had to switch things up, find a new tactic. And Skip happened to be there, somehow, to give you this idea. So now you can become a new person, a new identity, and have all of Ten Towers to help with your vendetta. Does that sum it up?¡± Though a few words sounded a bit harsh, overall she kept her tone even.


    Skip started to say something, but the former Deicide raised a hand to stop her without looking away from Amber and me. ¡°You''re right. I''ve made some very bad choices. I''ve done bad things. I let my obsession drive me and stopped thinking about the consequences of what I was doing. I will tell you this, if it helps at all, whatever my initial reasoning for changing sides, I intend to do so to the best of my ability. I intend to help, to do what I can to put this city back on track. Not just to stop Cu¨¦lebre, but in general. You may try to have me sent away if you choose to go that way. You can expose my secret and force me to go into hiding. That¡¯s your choice. I wouldn¡¯t blame you for making it. I don¡¯t have a dramatic reason for changing my mind. No terrible personal sob story to justify this sort of shift. All I can do is tell you it was never about becoming a master supervillain, never about taking over the city. I want to stop Cu¨¦lebre. And now¡­ now maybe I can work to make up for the things I did before. I will try. That¡¯s all I can promise. I will take it seriously and do everything in my power to help.¡±


    I could tell Amber was really doing her best to find an appropriate response to that, and discarded several. Finally, she took a deep breath. ¡°Okay, there¡¯s-- there¡¯s so much I could say to that. Things about you deserving prison for the stuff you¡¯ve done, but quite frankly they¡¯d all be pretty hypocritical given¡­ given a lot of things. And you¡¯re both right, if you go to prison, you won¡¯t be helping people. You¡¯ve got such a strong power. Being a villain was idiotic in the first place. You could¡¯ve done--¡± She stopped then, breath catching. ¡°Whatever, this whole city is just¡­ good guys are actually bad guys and bad guys are good guys and--and fuck. But sure, fine, you want to be good for awhile and see how that fits, you go ahead and give it a shot.¡±


    Her hand rose, pointing at the girl in question. ¡°But let me tell you this, I will be watching. You might have a stronger power than me, but I can ruin your fresh new life. I can point the media at you. If I think you¡¯re not taking this seriously, if I think you¡¯re using this as a cover and going back to your old ways, if I think you¡¯re not trying to be the best Star-Touched you can be? I¡¯ll make sure everyone knows the truth about the whole thing being faked. So you better actually fucking try. And yes, that is a threat.¡±


    Not-Deicide took a moment to consider her words, silently watching and staring. It was honestly almost scary, the way she could stand so completely still. I could see her eyes through the mask, and they barely blinked through those long seconds. Then she bowed her head slightly. ¡°Fair. And, to be honest, knowing that someone is keeping their eyes on me is probably for the best. I¡¯d prefer it to be someone like you.¡± I was pretty sure she was smiling just a bit at the end.


    Raising my own hand for attention, I put in, ¡°She won¡¯t be alone with that, just FYI. We¡¯ll both be watching you. I don¡¯t--I¡¯m glad you want to switch sides, whatever your reasoning. Seriously, you could do so much good with that power. But you are getting off, like, super-easily. Even if joining Star-Touched and getting into fights constantly does put your life in danger and there¡¯s the whole constant exhaustion thing and people expecting you to--okay maybe it can be pretty tough after all. Still, don¡¯t think you can go halfway and still do Fell shit on the side. If you¡¯re gonna switch sides and join Ten Towers, it has to be all the way. You have to actually change and stick with it.¡±


    ¡°And for the record,¡± Amber noted after I¡¯d gotten all that out, ¡°none of this actually explains the original question we had. How are you going to explain someone showing up with Deicide¡¯s exact powers immediately after she ¡®dies?¡¯ I think people might notice the stunning similarity.¡±


    So, Skip and the other girl told us about this so-called Power Recycling. Apparently whenever a Touched died, their power (or some version of it) ended up reappearing elsewhere, with someone else. It had been observed over time, but wasn¡¯t common knowledge because the recycled powers tended to appear on opposite sides of the country, or even other continents.


    It all sounded ridiculous, and yet¡­ well, was it any more ridiculous than any other aspect of these powers? Seriously, they were given out by small glowing orbs that just appeared, took the person into some other reality or whatever for a minute to see images from our own minds, then spat us back out with brand new spiffy superpowers. The whole damn thing was absurd. So why not? Why couldn¡¯t the powers then be passed off to someone else after the first person died?


    Then I remembered something, a comment that had been made on the SPHERE forums toward the start of my whole¡­ Paintball thing. I wasn¡¯t sure why it had stuck with me, sitting at the back of my mind, but the moment I started thinking about what Skip and Not-Deicide were saying, it popped right back up again. ¡°Wait, someone online, they were talking about my powers being similar to someone else¡¯s, someone who disappeared shortly before I um, showed up. It wasn¡¯t about power recycling at the time. They thought I might actually be that person, but if they were--¡±


    ¡°Starfade,¡± Skip supplied. ¡°His name was Starfade, from Indiana. His powers were somewhat different than yours, using colored lights to give people boosts instead of paint. But there is a definite similarity. And¡­ yes, given the timing of his death, we believe it is an example of Power Recycling. For rather apparent reasons, no one felt right bringing it up to you before. It is somewhat morbid.¡±


    Somewhat morbid. That was one term for it. I¡­ had no idea how to react to the idea that my powers had been inherited from another Touched who died. Did that make us¡­ like¡­ related somehow? Was it weird to even wonder about that? Was it weird that I wanted to find out more about this Starfade guy? He had lived all the way over in Indiana, and yet¡­ yeah, I wanted to learn about him. Maybe even visit his grave or memorial somehow and let his¡­ whatever know that I was using his powers to do good things. Yes, weird, but I still wanted to do it.


    For now, however, I shook that off. I would deal with it on my own time. ¡°Okay, we get it. We¡¯ll keep your secret, for now. Like we said, we¡¯ll be watching.¡±


    Those eyes shifted over to me, and I could see so many thoughts behind them, as the girl behind the mask met my gaze. ¡°Then I¡¯ll do my best to be an entertaining subject to watch.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about being entertaining,¡± Amber put in. ¡°Just start helping people instead of hurting them. And maybe think about working overtime with that.


    ¡°Because you have got one hell of a mountain of moral debt to work your way through.¡±

 To The Races 32-07

    It was weird spending so much time not going out in costume. Yeah, I had been told in no uncertain terms that there would be consequences if I didn''t take this vacation, but still. It was strange to essentially be grounded from being Paintball. I had been spending so much of my free time running around that way that staying firmly in civilian mode for so long was making me¡­ maybe itchy was the best word for it. It felt like I was missing something, like there was something else I should have been doing. It just felt like I was doing something wrong, wasting my time goofing around when I could have actually been contributing something vaguely useful. Yes, it was stupid. But I couldn''t help it.


    What I needed was a distraction, something to make me stop thinking about all the work I should have been doing. Fortunately, the LEAT games were bound to help a lot with that. I¡¯d enjoyed watching them online for so long, and now I was actually going to be there in person. No matter how much responsibility I felt when it came to helping clean up the city after all that had happened, I couldn''t pretend I wasn''t giddy about this trip. It made me feel like an innocent kid again.


    Izzy and I were packing our stuff the morning of the trip. We could have done it the night before, but we sort of started talking about everything again and fell asleep. It really was incredible how much better I always slept after talking everything out with her.


    We had my door open, with one of the maids cleaning up in the nearby hall, so the two of us were limiting our current conversation to just talking about the events we were about to go see. I kept hyping up the tournament, babbling (yes, I could admit it) about the participants I really wanted to meet, and about past winners for some of the bigger events. I could tell that Izzy didn''t care about it nearly as much as I did, but she was humoring me. And I was sure she''d have fun with it once we were there and actually seeing it. The excitement of the games was something you couldn¡¯t really describe.


    I was in the middle of talking about one of the most impressive, amazing athletes to ever participate in these games, when Simon stepped into the open doorway. He was carrying a backpack in one hand, and gave us a sly look. ¡°Did they tell you about the time they tried to stow away inside Dad¡¯s suitcase just to meet the guy who won the gold in Total Freefall?¡±


    I made a pointed harumph noise while giving him a look. Sure, I knew he was intentionally messing with me, but I couldn''t help it. ¡°First of all, they don''t have gold medals. Or silver or bronze either. That''s the Olympics. The LEATs have rings, like the kind you wear on your finger. The rings are super rare and expensive, because they''re biolocked to the person who won them. The ring won''t open enough to go on your finger unless you''re the person it''s meant for. If you see someone wearing one, it means they got within the top three of one of the events. And they go sapphire for third place, emerald for second place, and ruby for first. Plus a lot of places give huge discounts and other benefits to anybody who has one.¡±


    From where she was sitting on my bed, looking back and forth between the two of us, Izzy spoke up. ¡°What was that about trying to stow away in your--in Dad¡¯s suitcase?¡± She was still reflexively having a bit of a problem with calling our parents our parents. But it was getting better all the time.


    I could feel my face turn pink at that, even as my head shook quickly. ¡°It doesn''t even count. I don¡¯t even remember it, except what they told me later. I think I was like five years old. I guess I knew Dad was taking a business trip to this place where Carl Detmer was going to be. He retired a couple years later, but at that point, he''d won like six ruby rings. He''s seriously the best competitor they ever had in the low-to-moderately Enhanced rankings. And he was going to be in the same room with Dad. It was for some sort of big athletic shoe sponsorship deal.¡±


    Simon was grinning, the expression on his face not too unlike girls at school who liked to gossip. ¡°Oh, it definitely counts. Dad said he''d get you an autograph, but that wasn''t enough. You wanted to meet him, and had the whole thing planned out. You took two bottles of water and four bags of fruit snacks for the trip and you crawled right into his bag that morning while it was sitting in the hallway, just before they were supposed to leave. But Jefferson noticed how much heavier the bag was.¡±


    Yeah, now I was definitely blushing. The vague half-memory of that made me squirm and retort, ¡°Again, five years old. Besides, I¡¯m pretty sure it wasn''t just a few bags of fruit snacks. I had some beef jerky in my pockets too.¡±


    Simon grinned at me. ¡°Oh, well that definitely changes everything. If Jefferson hadn''t been so nosy, you absolutely would have made it all the way there and managed to sneak out just in time to meet the guy. He would''ve made you his sidekick, and the two of you would have gone on to win another twenty rings.¡± He adopted a teasingly mournful tone. ¡°That was your shot at greatness.¡±


    My hand snapped out to poke him in the shoulder. ¡°Let''s get this straight, oh brilliant big brother of mine, I was always great. And I keep getting better all the time. I am amazing, thank you very much. And I''m definitely going to meet Detmer. Maybe even on this trip. He doesn''t compete anymore, but sometimes he shows up anyway just to hang out and play in some of the exhibition games now and then. Besides, I still have plenty of time to become one of their sidekicks, unlike you, Old Man Simon.¡±


    He started to protest that he was only four years my senior, but I just pantomimed limping around helplessly on a walker until he swatted at me.


    Izzy quickly piped up before that could devolve too much. ¡°Plus that Inessa Sidorov girl is gonna be there, right? I don''t think she''s really competing.¡±


    I shook my head while dancing away from Simon. ¡°She''s participating in a couple of those exhibition games I was talking about. If we''re really lucky, maybe she and Detmer will end up in a game together!¡± The very thought of that happening the first time that I actually physically attended the tournament was enough to make me bounce up and down giddily. Yes, this trip really was going to help distract me from all that guilt about not going out as Paintball. If I hadn''t known any better, I almost would have thought that my parents had actually planned this trip specifically for that. But no, I wasn''t going to let my inner paranoia run off on a whole thing for that. This was just a normal family trip to make up for the whole Sleeptalk thing.


    After saying something about how we should hurry up so we wouldn''t miss the plane, Simon left. He was already on his phone before he even made it out of my doorway, saying something to one of his friends who apparently lived down in Arizona. They were planning to meet up and go do some stuff while we were there. Or, for all I knew, that entire conversation was some sort of code for Ministry business and they were really talking about crimes.


    I had no idea, and I wasn''t going to think about it too much right now. I just couldn''t. What I did do, on the other hand, was close and lock my door. Then I ran my hand along my dresser and the mirror nearby. It wasn''t until I saw Izzy squinting at me that I realized what I was doing. Without even thinking about it, I was making sure that Simon hadn''t left behind any sort of listening device. Yes, it was incredibly unlikely. He had no reason, as far as I knew, to be suspicious. Still, I had to check.


    This was the sort of life I had right now. No matter how casual and ordinary an interaction I might have had with my own brother, I still had to check to make sure it wasn''t some sort of distraction or trap.


    Giving a heavy sigh, I walked over to sit on my bed. ¡°So, three new members for your team, huh?¡± Yeah, I was deliberately changing the subject because I didn''t want to think about that other stuff right now. It wasn''t as though obsessing over the whole situation with not being able to fully trust my family would actually change anything about it. Besides, I really did want to know more about that.


    Izzy nodded quickly. ¡°Uh huh, there''s Facsimile and Yeet. They''re brother and sister. I don''t know much about them-- I mean, almost nobody does. They haven''t been public Touched before. But Carousel does. She vouched for them. Which kinda raises all sorts of questions.¡± She frowned thoughtfully before pushing on. ¡°I think they might be legacies, cuz they definitely understand their powers. They''ve used them a lot. And they already have some real training.¡±


    Legacies, of course, was another way of saying that they had inherited powers from their parents rather than specifically Touching on their own. As far as I knew, it was another fairly rare thing. And I couldn''t figure out who in the city they would have inherited those specific powers from. Something to do with energy and light? Dynamic might almost fit, but she was definitely too young to have teenage kids. Nobody else was really coming to mind, unless it was one of the Seraphs or something. Or maybe it was just one of the Civ-Touched out there. Hell, it could be someone I just wasn''t thinking of. Or someone not in this city.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Whoever their parent Touched was, if they had one, it probably wasn''t actually any of my business. I was just curious. Especially since they had come out of nowhere to help fill out the ranks of the Minority. If they were going to be on a team with my sister and my friend, part of me wanted to find out everything I could about them. Was that a crime?


    In the meantime, they weren''t the only two joining that team. So I changed the subject and asked, ¡°What about the other guy? He is established.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s head bobbed easily, as she gave me a look that I couldn''t decipher. ¡°Uh huh! Flashflak is from Minnesota and had a whole thing up there. The Ministry could have recruited him, I guess. He sounds pretty ambitious, you know? I mean, he still wants to help people and all, but he''s also into the business side of it. Business like sponsorships and getting the big teams to notice him. We only talked for a few minutes last night with the rest of the team, but he''s all about branding and getting his name out there.¡± She gave me a small smile then and poked me with an overly cheerful, ¡°Actually, come to think of it, he talked about getting to know you as soon as he can. He was very into that idea.¡±


    Coughing, I managed a weak shrug. ¡°I hope he isn''t thinking about coming over to my team, cuz we''re sort of full up right now. Also, I really don''t think I could tell him anything that he can''t learn better from you guys. Besides, doesn''t he have a year of experience already? He''s been doing this longer.¡±


    Izzy was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. It was an expression that made me nervous. She picked up her suitcase, or rather, tried to. But it was heavy. So she summoned water from a glass on the table and sprinkled it over the bag to make it almost weightless. Then she picked it up. ¡°That''s the thing, I didn''t say he wanted to meet Paintball. I said he wants to meet you, as in Cassidy Evans.¡±


    Okay, that made me do a double-take, staring at her uncertainly while she audibly giggled. I just blinked in confusion as my head shook. ¡°What do you mean? Why would he want to meet the civilian me? I don''t have anything for him. Why would the subject of me even come up? I''m just nobody.¡±


    Izzy¡¯s small fist punched me in the arm lightly. ¡°Hey, stop it. You''re not nobody, don''t say that. And you came up because Amber mentioned going to school with you and a couple others when we found out he''s gonna be going there too. He saw your picture on her phone and thinks you''re cute. That''s why he wanted to get to know you, duh.¡±


    For a moment, I just stared at her. Then I grabbed my bag and replied, ¡°I guess it''s good to know who the Ministry spy is, but why do you think he''d try to get close to me? Do Mom and Dad actually suspect something? Do you think they want him to check on me in general, or do they have something specific? Maybe it''s just an opportunity thing since he''s new.¡±


    I started to go on with that line of thought, but Izzy quickly interrupted, sounding as though I had just started talking gibberish. ¡°Hey, hey, hey, what? I think I missed something back there. Why do you suddenly think he''s a Ministry spy just like that?¡±


    The question confused me, and the two of us just stared at each other for a moment before I managed a hesitant, ¡°I mean, isn''t it obvious? The second he gets Amber to bring me up and show him a picture, he makes up some dumb excuse about thinking I''m cute so he wants to get to know me? Actually, I guess it''s just as possible that it''s that ambition thing you were talking about. He probably thinks getting to know me will help his career. You''re right, it''s probably not a Ministry thing. Thanks, I can deal with plain old ambition.¡±


    I started to leave the room to head downstairs, but Izzy grabbed my arm. She was staring at me with an odd expression. ¡°Cassidy,¡± she started before hesitating. It was like she didn''t even know where to start. ¡°You know it''s possible that he just thinks you''re cute, right? He said that before he even knew your name. Amber was just showing him pictures from school and he pointed you out on his own. Amber had to tell him who you actually were. It¡¯s not like your image is famous enough for most people to even realize you¡¯re that Evans at a glance.¡±


    I gave a little shrug. ¡°If he''s ambitious, he probably found my picture ahead of time and was just waiting for it to come up or something. Our parents might do what they can to keep the paparazzi away, but it''s not like it''s impossible to find pictures if you really want to. Come on, we both know I''m not the kind of person that people actually point to a picture of and say, ¡®hey, hubba hubba, who¡¯s that?¡¯ He has another angle. Maybe it''s something benign and he just thinks I can help his career, or maybe it''s something worse. Either way, no big deal right now. We''ll figure it out when the time comes.¡±


    Seriously, why was Izzy looking at me like that? It was like she really wanted to say something else, but couldn''t figure out the right words. And before she could actually settle on something, the intercom buzzed with our mother telling us to head down because it was time to leave. So we were just going to have to set that whole conversation aside for the time being. Especially considering the last thing we needed to do was make our parents wonder about what we were so busy with up here.


    Oh, and maybe, just maybe, I was excited about this trip. See again, trying to stow away in a suitcase when I was five years old. It was a big deal. I didn''t care what else was going on or what the underlying secret reasons behind the trip might be. This was going to be fun, dammit. I wasn''t going to let any of that other stuff ruin things. Not this time.


    We headed out together, with Izzy even taking a moment to help make my own bag lighter. On the way, she asked, ¡°Are we really taking a plane?¡± There was both nervousness and excitement in her voice, enough to make me smile. ¡°I''ve never flown before. I mean, not like that. But I thought your parents used um, actual teleportation tech when they needed to get somewhere far away.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°When they need to get somewhere quick, sure. Teleportation is rare and super expensive, especially at the drop of a hat, and over long distances. But the way Dad puts it, when he''s not in a rush, he prefers to put his feet up and relax. Doing it through teleportation is too quick. It''s one step and then you''re there. For a vacation, he likes to be able to take in the trip and enjoy it.¡±


    Simon joined us on the stairs with an easy, ¡°Yeah, and the fact that we don''t have to sit around the airport for hours, or crowd onto the plane with a bunch of other people helps with that whole relaxing thing. Taking your own private plane really is the best way to travel. It leaves whenever we get there. No muss, no fuss. And no screaming babies.¡± His hand moved to noogie my head. ¡°At least not for the past couple years since this one finally figured out how to shut up for awhile now and then.¡±


    I scowled at him. ¡°At least one of us figured out the shutting up thing. What''s your excuse, big brother?¡±


    Before he could respond, Mom came into view at the bottom of the stairs, raising an eyebrow at us. ¡°Now, that can''t possibly be my beautiful and so well-behaved children having an argument before we have even set foot out of the house. They must be reenacting a scene between some other children from one of those TV shows they like so much. Or possibly performing their own short play. Isn''t that just like them?¡±


    Blushing a little, I dropped my hand other than following through on what had been an attempt to punch Simon in the arm. I''d save it for later. ¡°Hi, Mom. Time to get out of here?¡±


    Before she could respond, it was Dad who answered while coming out of the nearby sitting room. ¡°Absolutely. Let''s get out here before one of these vultures decides it''s worth it to put a blockade up around the house just to make us stay in town.¡±


    Mom gave a soft chuckle at that, hand reaching out to absently brush through my hair. ¡°They''re simply glad to have you back, my dear. Our business associates have missed your insights and cunning. And who can blame them? They''ve suffered without for so very long. It must have seemed a cruel joke, to have you back only for you to announce your vacation so soon. Poor souls.¡±


    Dad, for his part, simply shook his head and adopted a light tone. ¡°Oh, but I¡¯m afraid what they¡¯re truly upset about is the loss of your creativity and drive. They''re so angry with me for being the one dragging you away from the offices.¡±


    Simon rolled his eyes. ¡°Yeah, yeah, you¡¯re both brilliant and your partners are totally gonna fall apart without you standing next to them for a few days. Millions will be lost, thousands out of their jobs, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria.¡±


    My hand rose. ¡°Is that when the ghosts take over?¡±


    Heading for the door as the maid standing nearby turned it open, Dad took Mom''s hand and replied easily, ¡°If it is, then we really should get going. I don''t want to be here when the giant marshmallow man starts stomping around. Can you imagine what that will end up doing to the traffic by the airport?¡±


    So, we headed out to the limo that was waiting. We were going to the airport in style, apparently. Jefferson helped a couple of my parents'' security team load their bags while Izzy and I put our own in as well. Then we clambered into the enormous car and settled ourselves in our seats.


    As we started to pull away, I looked at my parents. ¡°Just wait until next week.¡±


    That made them blink, Dad raising an eyebrow. ¡°And what exactly is next week?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°After we get my final grade for Drivers Ed, I can go get my license.¡±


    I swear, Dad must have had some sort of Touched-Tech that allowed him to make himself pale that much. ¡°I''m afraid we were wrong about the problems being over, beloved,¡± he informed my mother.


    ¡°Apparently the city is about to be in more danger than it ever has.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 37

    SPHERE Interlude About Current Events


    Welcome, Gepetto¡¯s Lad (click here to log-out) to the Summus Proelium HERE forums, or SPHERE. It has been (two hours seven minutes) since your previous log-in, and there have been (0/Zero) rule clarifications or updates and (0/Zero) administrator announcements. Click here to read them, and be aware that the system will not allow you to post any replies or make any new topics until you click the button at the bottom of any announcement(s) and rule update(s) acknowledging you have read and understand them.


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    <> Topic ¡ª Sleeptalk Quarantine Ended (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    4D-Daniel (Moderator ¨C Original Poster)


    Posted on June 9th, 2020:


    Well break out the champagne and get your plane tickets early, because it¡¯s official: the quarantine around Detroit is coming down. Yes, this was expected to come at some point, given the news of a cure and that those who were affected are already being woken up. But it¡¯s still earlier than expected. The last quarantine thread has been locked, with people being redirected to this one. Please see this post on the official Detroit Police Department blog for details, as well as this one from the governor¡¯s office on how various details will be handled when it comes to avoiding too much traffic congestion for those who wish to leave.


    In general, just be excellent to one another. This is a time for celebration, but keep the board rules in mind. Thanks to everyone who participated throughout our game threads for those who needed to be distracted, and I¡¯ve been assured that those threads will be moved to their own section now for anyone who wants to continue them.


    (Showing page 17 of 20, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> SunRise


    Replied on June 12th, 2020


    Fuck dude, I don¡¯t even care about details. I never really left the city before, never had any reason to. But somehow, having those barricades up so we couldn¡¯t leave made me all wanderlusty. That¡¯s a word, right? I just wanna get out of here, maybe take a bus all the way to Florida, then California, then back again. See everything along the way. I managed to make some bank off selling my grandpa¡¯s old vinyl collection. Was gonna use it as a downpayment on a house, but now I¡¯m thinking seeing the country and just chilling on the road for a month or so sounds like the experience of a lifetime.


    Besides, after getting stuck here through all that, I¡¯m kinda thinking maybe moving might be a good idea. I¡¯m not so sure I want to stick around Detroit. Might see if any other cities catch my fancy along the way. Or a small town. Need peace and quiet.


    ¡ª> Xiddon


    Replied on June 12th, 2020


    Man you have the money to put a downpayment on a house and you¡¯re thinking about throwing it away on a roadtrip that¡¯ll be over in a month? A house is for, like, the rest of your life. And if you do go to some smaller town, you can get a pretty sweet one for less than you¡¯d pay here. But just so you know, you¡¯re not necessarily safer out in the middle of nowhere. If a Collision Point happens, there¡¯ll be less between you and them, and it¡¯ll take Touched longer to show up. Plus, if some Fell gets a wild hair and decides to play warlord over your podunk town just for shits and giggles, you won¡¯t have local Stars to knock them out. Just saying, it might sound like a good idea, but there¡¯s risks involved wherever you go. I already heard about some Fells who decided to leave the big cities and go venture out to rural-land where there¡¯s greener pastures.


    ¡ª> MostAmazingFinalGuiderOfCults


    Replied on June 12th, 2020


    Actually, if you really want to look into moving but still want to be near the city so you can visit your friends without taking a plane or driving for six hours, try Tecumseh. It¡¯s only about an hour¡¯s drive from Detroit and the population¡¯s hovering around twenty thousand. Thing is, you¡¯re not alone in the wanting to get out of Detroit thing. Actually, there¡¯s a group of us talking about going in on some land out there and building some houses. If you want I could drop you a DM for details. Also obligatory it¡¯s not a cult.


    ¡ª> SunRise


    Replied on June 12th, 2020


    *looks at name* Hey wait a minute¡­


    But nah, the cult¡¯s here in the city. You guys heard about that, right? Fucking quarantine wasn¡¯t even over yet and we already had the Garden of Badb showing up. Maybe leaving really is a good idea. Not that I want to, family¡¯s lived here for like a hundred and fifty years or something. Grandma¡¯d roll over in her grave if she knew I was thinking about leaving this place.


    Oh and uh, sure, send me those details. No promises but I guess I¡¯ll check it out.


    ¡ª> GuruOfZeal


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Personally I¡¯m not about to abandon the city I grew up in, let alone one that my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents built lives in. Those of you who just want to go running off should be ashamed of yourselves. This is our home, our world. Detroit already went to shit before Touched became a thing, then the past twenty years turned everything around and made it one of the best cities in the world and you want to take off just because there¡¯s a little violence? Join the police or one of the Star-Touched groups as a Prev with a gun. Get training. Do something to help the city.


    ¡ª> dander26


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Hell yeah, that¡¯s what me and my friends are doing. The Seraphs are hiring guards, drivers, fuck if you don¡¯t want to see any combat but still want to contribute, join up as a gofer. You can stay in the nice protected facility and just carry stuff around, clean up messes, help out while they keep the city safe. There¡¯s so much to do right now.


    ¡ª> HeavenSketch


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Deciding whether you stay in the city and help make it better or have to leave for your own safety or your families should be that person''s choice. And they shouldn''t be shamed for it either way. Yeah, people should be proud of their home but they shouldn''t be expected to put themselves and their families in danger constantly if they''re not in a good position to do that.


    ¡ª> dander26


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Okay, well, you guys do what you want if you can live with that. I don''t have any power or special skills, but I''m still gonna do everything I can to make the city better. Even if that means playing janitor for one of the Touched teams. Hey, do you think Avant-Guard needs someone to clean their bathrooms? They seem pretty effective.


    ¡ª> OnceWereWarriors


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Just so everyone knows, there is a way to spend most of your time outside of the city and still help it. There''s a bunch of companies that are hiring drivers to carry things all across the country. You''d be helping the economy here, but you''d be out on the road most of the time.


    ¡ª> GearK


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Lmao, yeah sure, will be out on the road carrying supplies from Detroit. That''s like taping a bunch of meat to your body and wandering into cougar territory. Do you have any idea how many pirates would be all over trucks coming out of here?


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 17, 18, 19, 20


    [][][][][][]


    <> Topic ¡ª Deicide Killed In Explosion  (Boards ¨C Places ¨C United States ¨C Michigan ¨C Events)


    Constructicon (Original Poster)


    Posted on June 13th, 2020:


    Okay, the moderators have locked the three other threads on the subject so we can keep the discussion centralized and coherent. It¡¯s been confirmed by multiple sources (Ten Towers press release here, Police Department release here, on-scene first responder Seraphs interview here) that the Fell-Touched known as Deicide was killed today, (Saturday, June 13th) after being caught in an accidental gas explosion while attempting to break into a Ten Towers armored truck. Read all the details in those press releases, or you can watch any of the eighteen news clips about it as compiled here.


    I¡¯ve been asked to remind everyone that while you are allowed to express your opinion on the subject whether positive or negative, please keep the violent revenge fantasy scenarios to a minimum. And remember that the people you¡¯re talking to are actual living beings, so if you get into an argument about what Deicide or any particular Fell-Touched deserves, just bear that in mind. You can agree to disagree.


    (Showing page 43 of 44, displaying ten posts per page)


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Yeah, I think the biggest question that needs to be answered right now is what the hell was deicide trying to get out of that fucking truck? What was so important in there that she chased it down and didn''t even notice all the gasoline around her? Because that seems like a pretty stupid mistake, doesn''t it? Whatever she was trying to get must''ve been super important.


    ¡ª> Anonymoton


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Sometimes mistakes just happen. Even if you''re a big bad Fell leader. Look at Pencil and his reputation, then look at what actually happened to him. Sometimes people just screw up. It''s been a long few weeks with the quarantine, maybe she just screwed up at the worst time.


    ¡ª> LaughingLad


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Absolutely. Sure, it''s been a long few weeks. And on top of that, like half her gang leadership betrayed her and jumped sides. Is it really all that surprising that she might make a mistake, even a huge one like that? Honestly, I''m surprised it doesn''t happen more often.


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Well I still say something is fishy about all this. Personally, I think she had some help making that mistake. I don''t know what she thought was in the truck, but I don''t think it was actually there. I think the whole thing was a set-up. Ten Towers found out about something she wanted, pretended it was in one of their trucks, and sent it off as bait. They tricked her into walking into a trap and then blew her up. Seriously, that explosion was way too convenient and strong for just having a little gasoline.


    ¡ª> Sickstalker


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Boy, it sure didn''t take long for the conspiracy theorist to jump into the conversation, did it? Sometimes things just happen. Do you really think towers could get away with setting up a whole elaborate trap to intentionally assassinate one of the most powerful Fells in the city and no one involved gave anything away?


    ¡ª> FiefdomOfFeelings


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Would there really need to be that many people involved though? I mean in the actual trap. There was just the one driver, who has conveniently declined to appear on camera. He could''ve been one of the Stars in disguise. Other than that, you don''t need some way of spreading the word and making sure it got to her, and then someone to set up the explosives.


    ¡ª> AvoidanceLamb


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Honestly, can we just be happy that one of the big bad guys got taken off the board? We don''t need to go poking at it already. Let''s just raise a toast to that guard, wish him luck, and move on. Honestly, it feels like some of you might be doing her minions¡¯ work for them. You''re trying to find out who that driver was, just like they are. Do you really think it''s strange that he doesn''t want to go on the news? If they find out who he is, they''ll go after him.


    ¡ª> Flaboran


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    OK, yeah that''s a fair point. I know I wouldn''t want to put a bullseye on my face for a bunch of pissed off gang members to take a shot at. They¡¯ll be all about making an example out of him.


    I still say there''s something suspicious about the whole situation, but you''re right, let''s not push too hard and get that driver in trouble. I''ll just sit over here squinting at the whole situation. But in far more important and relevant news, did you guys hear about what''s going on with the rest of the Easy Eights now? You''ll never fucking guess who their new leader is.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡ª> EnemyOfTheGoose


    Replied on June 13th, 2020


    Fucking Grandstand? What the hell is going on there? She was Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s second, now she''s leading the group most opposed to him? I mean, I knew they had a falling out or something, but what the hell? And why would the Eights trust her to lead them?


    I''ve got so many goddamn questions right now.


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ¡­ 42, 43, 44


    **********


    Sierra And Paige Sisterly Bonding


    ¡°Do you wish you''d been the one to pull the trigger?¡± As she asked that, Sierra pivoted on one foot to walk backwards along the narrow trail above the nearby waterfall. They were currently about a thousand miles from home, having stopped at a motel for the night. Irelyn was getting some sleep after driving for so long, while the two of them explored. They didn''t exactly need much rest, and they didn''t want to wake up the older girl.


    Paige, coming along behind her, looked up and met her gaze. ¡°You mean do I wish I''d been the one to kill our dad instead of Robert?¡± She paused briefly, turning to look down the waterfall to the stream below. They had just started to walk along this trail without any sort of goal or destination. Which, after spending so long constantly fighting and trying to break her programming, was a real treat. Maybe some people would have been bored, but she was enjoying the chance to do absolutely nothing of any importance.


    Granted, she did think that this whole thing would be better if Cassidy had come with them. But they had their own vacation to go on, and they''d probably enjoy it more if Paige wasn''t there to remind them about¡­ well, all of that.


    Finally, after dwelling on that for a moment, she turned her attention back to Sierra. ¡°Part of me wanted to do it myself, yeah. After everything he did, after everything he made me do, I wanted to be the one who ended him. And I guess maybe part of me feels like it''s not really over yet. Like it was too easy, you know? He was just alive one second, and then he was dead. He didn''t get the chance to say anything, to threaten anything, he was just gone. After everything he did, everything he was to all of us, and then he''s just dead like that? I don''t know, it seems like there should''ve been some big fight or something.¡±


    Sierra picked up a small rock and gave it a chuck out over the waterfall. They both watched as it sailed down into the stream, skipping a couple times across the surface far below. ¡°I mean, we did contribute to him dying. We put him in that situation. We trapped him. And yeah, I know you''re gonna say the kid did that work, but you helped put it together too. You helped get the supplies together for it, helped build it, you helped get the machine that teleported him to Detroit in the first place. None of that would''ve happened, and he wouldn''t have been in that situation at all, if we hadn''t done everything we did. So, I think it''s okay if we take partial credit for the patricide. Just don''t tell the kid we''re taking any credit for it, because I told her that him dying wasn''t her fault at all. She was kinda messed up.¡±


    Grimacing a bit, Paige turned and started to walk once more, heading deeper into the forest with her sister. With one of her sisters, she reminded herself. Against all odds, against everything she had assumed, Irelyn hadn''t tossed her aside in horror and disgust. She actually wanted to spend time with her and get to know her. She wanted to be a real sister, which was just¡­ it felt impossible, like she was living some sort of weird dream. Her father was dead, she and Sierra were alive and free, and Irelyn actually wanted both of them around.


    Finally, after walking in silence through the forest for a minute, she spoke up. ¡°Do you think this place looks anything like the island? The one he spent the past few years on, I mean. I know most of it is a forest, but I''m not exactly sure what kind.¡±


    Sierra shrugged. ¡°Yeah, they do tend to keep as many details about that place as hush hush as possible. Turns out they don''t exactly want to put up video-guided tours of the island prison where they keep all the worst supervillains. Though to be fair, I''ve heard of worse plans the government types have been all in on.¡±


    She took a moment to glance around consideringly, pursing her lips. ¡°I think the trees over there are bigger. Just from the stories we heard. And speaking of stories, you know you can just ask Irelyn what the place looked like? She spent time there and all. I''m sure she got a pretty good look at the scenery.¡±


    It was Paige¡¯s turn to pick up a rock, chucking it at a distant tree with a heavy sigh. ¡°I know, trust me. But I don''t want to make her go over all that again. I''m pretty sure she''d rather forget about as much of it as she can, not tell me stories about the place just so I can picture what it was like for our father.¡±


    Sierra moved quickly, climbing up the nearest tree like a monkey. Soon, she was perched in the tallest branches that would support her, staring down at the other girl. ¡°And maybe you should let that be the decision she makes for herself. You could just ask her if she wants to talk about it instead of deciding ahead of time how she''ll feel.¡±


    Tilting her head back to stare up that way, Paige gave her sister a long look. ¡°I guess I kind of make a habit of that sort of thing, don''t I?


    ¡°It''s okay, that''s what I''m here for,¡± Sierra replied easily. ¡°To keep you grounded and find out when you''re making a mistake.¡± She paused thoughtfully before pushing forward out of the tree. Dropping through the leaves, she landed smoothly right next to Paige. ¡°Well, if we really want to get technical, I was here to kill you and take your place in that body.¡± She gave the girl a wide smile and winked. ¡°I think we can both say that this is a better use of my time.¡±


    Reaching out to poke the other girl in the forehead, Paige agreed, ¡°Sure, I like you better this way too. I already had my fill of piece of shit family members. And to be honest with you, back when I thought Irelyn wouldn''t want anything to do with me once she knew the truth, the only reason I was kind of okay with it is because I knew I had you around. So I wouldn''t be alone.¡±


    Sierra groaned at that, but despite her audible reaction, her hand slipped down to take Paige¡¯s, squeezing it. ¡°Okay, don''t get all that sappy on me, come on. It''s not that big of a deal. Besides, as it turns out, she''s the forgiving type. So you could toss me aside if you wanted to and still have a sister to spend time with.¡±


    Shaking her head, Paige brought the other girl''s hand up while it was still clasped in hers. ¡°Irelyn is a pretty cool sister, true. But she''s not the sort of sister you are. She''s not a twin. Yeah, I know we look different, don''t squint at me like that. You know what I mean. For all intents and purposes, we are twins. We''re Biolems. Maybe the last ones, especially with any individuality. You''re my sister, Sierra. Whatever happens, wherever we go and whatever we do, that won''t change. You''re stuck with me. And I guess I''m stuck with you. Can you live with that?¡±


    Sierra seemed to consider it for a moment, making a show of rocking her head back and forth thoughtfully. Finally, she offered a shrug. ¡°I guess if there''s no getting out of it, I''ll just have to find a way to survive the experience.


    ¡°Maybe Peyton has some advice for dealing with overbearing family members who won''t stop smothering you.¡±


    **************


    Fisher And Price Go To The Evans Home


    Most people would have given a severe side-eye at the rather large truck that rumbled its way up to the front gate of the Evans¡¯ property. It was somewhere between an oversized pickup and a monster truck. Clearly too big to be of much practical use in the middle of a busy city, but not quite large enough to actually drive over other, smaller vehicles. Those who looked at the thing filling up entire street lanes almost always assumed the driver was compensating for something. And, truthfully, he was.


    He was compensating for the fact that most normal vehicles didn¡¯t tend to be designed with the idea that an almost nine-foot-tall bear weighing over a thousand pounds would be sitting in the driver¡¯s seat in mind. An obviously tragic and unthinking oversight, yes.


    The guard at the gatehouse, however, was not one of those people who held such instinctive annoyance for the truck in question. Not after years of experience. He barely glanced up from his phone long enough to visually confirm that the vehicle was the one he had identified purely from sound, and that the hidden scanners that had been running over the vehicle since it approached hadn¡¯t picked up anything unusual about it, before hitting the button to raise the barrier so the truck could drive through.


    After taking the long, winding driveway up to the front door, Fisher stopped the truck, using one massive paw to shift into park, before carefully turning off the ignition with two claws. Then he opened the door and heaved himself out, coming down heavily on the pavement. Anyone who was expecting to see a stereotypical sort of driver coming out of a truck that size would have been taken aback by the reveal, and not just because of the bear thing. Not because of the bear thing at all, actually. Thanks to Elena Evans, anyone not already in the know who looked at him would only see a large human male (and not a nine-foot-tall one either, but one of impressive but reasonable height). No, the surprise would come because Fisher wore an expensive, perfectly tailored three-piece suit. Which he adjusted and brushed off briefly before starting up to the front door. On the way, he spoke inwardly, I wish we had better news. Or any news other than ¡®we¡¯re still looking.¡¯


    Tell me about it, his raccoon partner, Price, replied from their inner space. They like Parsons. I¡¯d rather tell them that he¡¯s called in and is ready to talk about what happened. This whole going dark thing, especially after what he did, that¡¯s concerning.


    He has to know that they understand why he did it, even if they are disappointed, Fisher mused, while turning to look over at a seemingly random bit of the front walk. There was nothing there now, but his attention wasn¡¯t on the now. He was focused on the past, over eleven years in the past, actually. When he looked at that spot, Fisher saw himself, sans suit and tie. Bear-naked, as it were, heh. Wearing only his handsome fur, that past Fisher in his memories came bounding around the side of the mansion, with a very small human child clinging tightly to his neck and squealing with delight the entire time. She was nearly bounced off and sent flying with each motion, but she didn¡¯t care. She simply held on and excitedly urged him, ¡°Faster, faster!¡±


    Cassidy Evans, barely five years old, squealed once more as they reached the spot present Fisher had been staring at. Slipping down off him, the small child squeezed his massive body as tightly as she could. Her arms couldn¡¯t even go halfway around him, so she was just sort of sprawled against his side. ¡°Thanks for the lift, Fishes!¡± With that, she literally hopped to where his hindquarters were, dramatically shoved her hips to one side, then shoved them back. Past Fisher did the same, as lightly as possible. Even then, as they butt-bumped, she was still knocked to the ground with a laugh.


    Shaking off that memory and returning his focus to the here and now, Fisher carefully reached out to press the doorbell with one claw. He didn¡¯t strictly need to press it, as they were expected and could have walked right in. But he still found that to be a bit rude. Besides, he rather liked listening to the pretty chiming sound through the thick door. It reminded him of songbirds he had listened to out in the forest, years ago before becoming what he was now. A simpler time in some ways, but also harder. No, he wouldn¡¯t give up his sapience and partner for anything.


    In this case, however, he¡¯d barely had time to enjoy the first couple notes of those cheerful chimes before something very different caught his attention. Fisher paused, head cocking to the side suddenly. He sniffed once, slowly turning his head to face the door itself while sniffing again, then leaned in close to the knob for one more inhale.


    That was when the door opened, and he found himself face to face with one of the maids, who was clearly startled by his close proximity. He may not have looked like a bear to her, but he was still rather intimidating-looking. Intimidating enough, particularly from that distance, to make the poor girl audibly gasp and step back quickly.


    ¡°Ahem, apologies,¡± Fisher managed, straightening up while giving her what he hoped was a cheerful smile. He was never quite sure how well his attempted facial expressions came through in the disguise illusion. ¡°I believe I have an appointment.¡±


    Recovering quite smoothly and quickly from her surprise, the maid gave a slight curtsey. ¡°Of course, sir. Right this way. Mr. and Mrs. Evans are expecting you in the third floor den.¡± She turned then, as though to lead him through the enormous house.


    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s quite alright,¡± Fisher quickly assured her before the young woman could do more than take a couple steps to the nearby stairs. ¡°I know the way quite well by now, and I¡¯m sure you have much more important things to do than walk in front of me.¡±


    Without giving much in the way of argument, the woman headed off, leaving Fisher to make his way to the den himself. Heh, den. His den back in the old days had been quite a bit different than the place Sterling and Elena would be waiting for them.


    Any other time, Fisher wouldn¡¯t have delayed, particularly when it had been so long since they¡¯d actually spoken to the Evans in person. He had certainly seen the mansion enough, particularly early in his existence as a TONI, to know everything about it. They hadn¡¯t come around that much in the past few years, but the place hadn¡¯t changed that much.


    Or had it? Even as he had that thought, Fisher sniffed again. It was even stronger inside the house than it had been out front on the door. A very distinctive smell.


    Price, who couldn¡¯t actually smell things from their inner space, demanded, What is it? What¡¯s got you so distracted all of a sudden? You didn¡¯t forget why we¡¯re here just because Claudio¡¯s fixing some salmon, did you? There was a brief pause before he added, in a considering tone, Though if he is, it probably wouldn¡¯t hurt for us to take a peek. I¡¯m sure Sterling and Elena would understand that sort of very minor delay.


    It¡¯s not about food, Fisher informed his partner simply. Even the strong temptation of going to see if there actually was any fresh salmon on the menu couldn¡¯t distract him from this. But I need you to switch with me and check to see if I¡¯ve completely lost my mind.


    Price was, understandably, even more confused by that response. But he willingly switched with Fisher, as soon as they had made sure they were alone in this foyer.


    While the bear appeared as a very large man under Elena¡¯s power, the raccoon appeared as a very small one. Anyone who looked at him would believe they were simply seeing a little person, though one just as well-dressed as his companion.


    Not that anyone else had time to appear before Price abruptly jerked with surprise. Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, then dropped to all fours (that might¡¯ve looked odd to any potential passersby) to intently sniff the stairs right in front of them. Just like that, he went bounding up those stairs very quickly, sniffing the whole way through.


    I suppose this means either I haven¡¯t lost my mind, Fisher mused, or I have company.


    Soon, Price had stopped at the top of that flight of stairs. He turned to look over his shoulder, staring into the past just as Fisher had outside. In this case, he saw the tiny Cassidy, barely bigger than he was. The two of them were perched on a sled, the sort that should have been used on a snowy hill. The front door was standing wide open. Cassidy was sitting behind Price, who was holding onto the front handle of the sled. Both of them were giving matching eager grins as Cassidy reached up to give a last tug at the railing. Then she grabbed the front of the sled as well, her own hands right next to the raccoon TONI¡¯s paws. The sled went over the edge of the stairs and careened down them, while both of them gave loud, shrill cries of excitement. Down the stairs they went, hitting the deliberately heavily-polished floor before sliding right out the front door with enough speed to actually jump right over the steps there, landing on the pavement below. Their momentum carried the sled clear across the driveway and into the grass beyond, where it finally crashed. Both were laughing so hard they almost couldn¡¯t breathe, falling off the sled together to roll over the lawn.


    But that was the past. Now, the door was closed and Price was sitting at the top of that first flight of stairs. Turning away, he sniffed again, then continued on his way. Startled as he was by what he was smelling, what both of them had smelled, he still managed to make himself stand up and walk properly. Which was probably for the best, given one of the maids passed by just then. The Evans¡¯ staff had long-since learned not to question things like that around here, but still. He didn¡¯t like when people stared at him too much. Being so small already drew their attention more than he¡¯d like. Sometimes he passed more easily under the disguise of a child, but too often that would simply make people stop him to ask where his parents were. And that turned into a whole thing. The sheer indignity of being forced to hold one security guard¡¯s hand at a store until Elena showed up to claim her child still burned deep inside.


    Even walking upright rather than bounding on all fours like he wanted to, it wasn¡¯t long before they were standing in front of Cassidy¡¯s bedroom door. She wouldn¡¯t be there right then--no, they wouldn¡¯t be there. Price still wasn¡¯t sure how that whole thing worked or what it meant, to be perfectly honest, but if Cassidy Evans wanted to be called they instead of she, that was what they¡¯d get. He would have referred to Cassidy with any terms they wanted. But in any case, they were at school for those big end-of-year tests. Their room was empty at the moment.


    You do it, he insisted, before switching with his partner once more.


    Finding himself back in the outside world, facing that familiar door, Fisher carefully reached out to open it. He had to duck to slip inside, but once he did, the TONI bear found himself standing in that room. His eyes turned toward the floor in front of the enormous bed, and once more he was seeing things from many years earlier. Even further back than what he had been remembering outside.


    His past self was sitting on his rump, legs parted to either side with a collection of small human toys in front of him. Toys meant for a tiny child, like the one currently laying on their stomach as they diligently placed small figurines into the plastic airplane. This version of Cassidy was barely three years old. ¡°Whaaaaaaat abooooout¡­. Jonah an¡¯ Hex.¡± She suggested even as she lifted the airplane off the ground and started to steer it around with both hands. ¡°Dad¡¯s gots a pretty book with a super-cowboy an¡¯ he said that was his name.¡±


    ¡°Which of us would be Jonah, and which would be Hex?¡± the bear asked curiously.


    Screwing up her face thoughtfully as they stared at him with that airplane held out, Cassidy considered. She looked so funny in that moment, so serious and thoughtful, that the bear almost laughed. But he held it back, not wanting to insult the child. ¡°Mmmm¡­. Iiiiiii think you¡¯re Jonah.¡±


    That¡¯d make me Hex, the raccoon inside their shared inner space put in. Kinda cool, but I think we can do better.


    ¡°My friend believes we should try again,¡± the bear noted. ¡°As cool as the names Jonah and Hex are, there may be something that¡­ fits better. Like your name fits you.¡±


    Sticking her chin out proudly, Cassidy looked thoughtful once more. She was still flying the airplane around, before making it dramatically crash into a large train engine while making loud explosion noises with their mouth.


    Casually catching the train engine as it went flying to the side, the bear extended it toward the child. ¡°You should be careful, you don¡¯t want the toys to break. You like them, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°O¡¯course I--¡± Cassidy stopped, nose scrunching up while she stared at the toy being held out to them. Slowly, she took the toy, cradling it while looking back and forth between it and her companion. ¡°Uh, what¡¯s this called?¡±


    ¡°Oh, Miss Evans,¡± the bear informed them, ¡°you know that¡¯s a train.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no.¡± Leaning over, the child grabbed the cardboard box the toys were kept in and dragged it over before pointing to the colorful logo. ¡°What¡¯s this say?¡±


    His eyes weren¡¯t the best, and reading was still somewhat new to him, so he leaned in closer to squint at the thing. ¡°Ah, that says Fisher-Price. It is the name of the people who made your toys.¡±


    ¡°Fisher-Price,¡± Cassidy echoed thoughtfully, before a wide smile appeared. ¡°Hey¡­


    ¡°I think I gots a idea!¡±


    And that was how their names came about, Fisher and Price. Turning his attention away from that spot to look around once more, the bear TONI sniffed intently. He slowly moved into the room with another sniff, not that he needed it. We were right. Of course they were. They had both known the truth the moment they first caught that scent. The realization had come immediately, this was just confirmation. And now things were so much more complicated.


    He switched with Price, so the raccoon could bound up onto the bed and sniff that pillow before sighing. It¡¯s them, the kid. How could that--what-- Plopping down on the pillow, he heaved a long sigh. The hell are we gonna do about it?


    From within their shared space, Fisher lamented, I truly do not know. This is a very complicated situation. Cassidy¡¯s parents would want to know. And they are our friends.


    But Cassidy is Cassidy, came the swift retort. They named us. They played with us. How could we just turn them in like that?


    The two continued to lament over their choices, knowing that whatever they did, they would be betraying someone they cared about. Even if Cassidy themself no longer remembered them-- except they did know them, but only as Paintball. Only¡­ only as Paintball.


    Cassidy Evans was Paintball, and obviously knew their parents were the Ministry leaders. That was the only reason they wouldn¡¯t have said anything about Touching. The only--oh they were--they had been there the night that--oh.


    Complicated indeed.


    In the end, the two came to the only conclusion they could. Price jumped from the bed and made his way to the door. We keep an eye on them. We watch them. But we don¡¯t expose them. Sterling and Elena will understand once it comes out¡­ I hope.


    And if they don¡¯t, we¡¯ll just have to deal with it, Fisher noted, while switching with his companion so that it was the suited bear who stepped out of Cassidy Evans¡¯ room and began to make his way to the den where the others were waiting. We can¡¯t betray Cassidy. They have chosen not to tell their parents for a reason. It¡¯s not our place to force the issue otherwise.


    I just hope that whatever does eventually cause the issue to be raised, that all of our friends survive the experience.

 To The Races 32-08

    Leaving the city alongside my parents now that I knew as much as I did about their lives and what my family was really responsible for made me feel funny. Which was kind of odd, when I thought about it. Why should spending time with them outside of the city be any different than spending time with them inside it? Was it just because taking a private plane to stay in another state for vacation really helped hammer home just how much their secret business affected us? Was it easier for me to set those feelings aside when I could just leave the house and go do my own thing? That had to be part of it. The fact that we were about to go see the tournament that I had wanted to visit in person for so long should have made me happy. And, in a way, it did. I just couldn''t entirely shake the feelings of guilt and uncertainty surrounding the whole situation.


    But I had to push all that out of my mind. I couldn''t keep thinking about the fact that we were only able to take this trip like this because of all the criminal things my family was responsible for. And I couldn''t think about the fact that this whole trip was only happening in the first place because of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. My parents wanted to get out of town and spend some time with us because they had been incapacitated for so long specifically due to their secret lives.


    So yeah, I couldn''t think about that too much. Because if I did, both my mom and dad would''ve noticed that I wasn''t as excited as I should''ve been. And that might make them start asking questions. Which was the last thing I needed right now. I had to push those thoughts out of my mind and just accept this trip the way I would¡¯ve before I knew any of that other stuff. I had to pretend it was all fine.


    Okay, to be perfectly honest, it wasn''t exactly hard to pretend to be excited. It wasn''t all pretending. I really did love this tournament to an absurd degree. It was amazing to watch on our big screen, and I could hardly even imagine how awesome it would be to actually be there in person to watch.


    My parents knew just how much I loved those games, how much I had always wanted to see them. So, I may have turned the excitement up a notch to make sure they didn''t think anything was wrong. As we reached the private airfield where the plane was waiting, I bounced out of the car and did a cartwheel. Then I did another one, that time a bit too quickly, and ended up falling over into a pile of old leaves and weeds that had been stacked up next to the curb.


    ¡°Oh good,¡± Simon murmured while going around to the front of the limo, ¡°They were clean for all of five minutes, so they had to go jump into the nearest pile of dirt just before we get on the plane. Now we can spend the entire flight sneezing and coughing. That''s just so perfect.¡±


    Spitting out a few leaves and giving my body a vigorous shake in his direction, I started to retort before blinking at the sight of what my brother was taking off the front passenger seat, next to where Jefferson had been driving. It wasn''t another suitcase like the ones being taken from the trunk.


    ¡°Uhh,¡± I started hesitantly while raising my hand to point that way, ¡°is that a real cat?¡± He was holding a white carrier with windows on the sides and bars in the front. Through which I could very clearly see a gray cat meticulously cleaning herself while watching me rather intently.


    As soon as I asked that, the cat gave a very pointed meow, as though retorting that of course she was a cat, why would I even ask such a silly and pointless question. I could have sworn I even saw her eyes roll a bit. Which was just evidence that I had too much dust in my own eyes. Or maybe I was just a little too paranoid after everything.


    Simon, without missing a beat, lifted the cage to squint at the animal within. ¡°No, it''s really a bird in disguise.¡± He adopted a hushed tone, as though sharing a very important secret with me. ¡°Just make sure you don''t tell anybody. She''s in the witness relocation program under an assumed identity and we don¡¯t want the gang to find her.¡± He shuddered convincingly. ¡°The things she¡¯s seen, you really don¡¯t wanna know.¡±


    Lifting my chin, I shot back, ¡°Well if they put her in your hands, she must¡¯ve been part of that gang. Because I can¡¯t think of any other reason they¡¯d punish her so much.¡±


    Before Simon could say anything to that, Mom made a soft noise of mixed amusement and chiding. ¡°Okay, remember we¡¯re going on vacation, hmm? Both of you should try to be nice to each other. Honestly, you managed to get through the past few weeks without killing one another, or even any serious maiming as far as the doctors have told us. Is that something you can only do when your father and I aren''t around?¡±


    ¡°Well yeah,¡± I immediately confirmed without any hesitation, my head bobbing rapidly. ¡°We can''t let you actually see it or anything. Then you might expect it all the time. Do you have any idea how exhausting he is? Honestly, I¡¯m pretty sure the cat¡¯s gonna be the one taking care of him. She seems like the smart one and the cute one.¡± And yes, I was somewhat deliberately playing up the whole sibling teasing thing in my best attempt at making everything seem as normal as possible, both for them and myself.


    Simon made a huffing sound before muttering something about me knowing who the exhausting one was. Then he held the cage up for me to see better. ¡°Fine, this is Bailey. Say hi if you really want. But don''t grab her, or yank her tail, or scare her. And don¡¯t even think about trying to give her a bath in the sink. We know how that goes.¡±


    Brushing myself off, I stepped that way, along with Izzy. We both took a closer look at the cat while I muttered, ¡°You do remember that I¡¯m sixteen, not eight anymore, right? Besides, I only tried to give your hamster a bath because he really stank after you took him with you on that field trip to the farm. And I still think he was pretty grateful for it. He definitely liked his cute little bow. You should¡¯ve seen the way he preened with it.¡±


    Simon shook his head. ¡°All I know is that Apricot was never the same after all that soap. He was supposed to be intimidating, but we couldn¡¯t get the smell of lilacs out of him. Nothing that smells like lilacs can ever be intimidating. He was a laughingstock.¡±


    Taking a couple of the suitcases out of the back, Dad stepped over and explained, ¡°We told Simon he could have a reward for taking care of things for so long. He said he wanted a new pet. So here we are. She''s coming on the trip with us, because they''re still in the bonding process. And, well, apparently she''s a feisty one and we don''t pay our housekeepers enough to try to deal with that the whole time we''re gone. Not to mention your mother happens to be a pretty big fan of the idea of all her curtains being in one piece when we get back home.¡± He added that bit with a wink over his shoulder toward Mom, who had been watching all of that with a soft smile, despite (or maybe at least partially because of) our light bickering. It really did make everything feel more like it had before all this other stuff. It felt like we were the same old family, even though we had one more member (two more counting the cat), and Izzy and I knew so much more than we were supposed to. Sure, there were complications, to say the least. But this was still a vacation, and we were going to do our best to really enjoy it.


    To that end, I straightened up and smiled at my brother. ¡°Well, I guess you did a few things right. You did take care of things while all that was going on. And now you chose a cool cat for a pet. So I guess you don¡¯t make all the wrong decisions.¡±


    Bailey yawned at that, giving me a brief, curious look before laying down and curling up to go back to sleep. Which seemed to be the sum total of her contribution to the situation. If she was curious about who we were or what was going on, it apparently didn¡¯t outweigh her desire to ignore us and take a nap. Yeah, she was definitely a cat.


    And, come to think of it, she seemed kind of familiar. Was that weird? I couldn''t think of where I could possibly have seen-- okay, she was a cat. It wasn''t exactly hard to believe that I had seen another small gray cat who happened to look like this one before. They weren''t super-rare or anything. I was definitely just being weird about it. There was no reason to think that I somehow recognized this particular cat.


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    Shaking that out of my mind, I looked at my brother and raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you sure you''re ready to take care of another pet? I mean, you do remember that animals need food and water, right? I seem to recall that time you accidentally let a cactus die.¡±


    Simon scoffed at that. ¡°First of all, that was a fluke and you know it. The cactus was some weird species that needed extra stuff and no one told me. I''ve kept plenty of plants since then. And second of all, I kept you and Izzy alive all that time, didn''t I?¡±


    With a grin so he would know I was just teasing, I made a noise of understanding. ¡°Ohhhh, I get it. You can have the entire staff keep your cat alive. That does help a bit, yup.¡± After a brief pause, I added, ¡°And if I understand anything about cats, this will be the first one to be waited on hand and foot as much as she thinks she should be.¡±


    Simon muttered something about me not knowing the half of it, then straightened up. ¡°Well, come on already, let¡¯s go find the plane. You wanna get to these races you love so much, right? Or would you rather just vacation here at the airport for a week?¡±


    Picking up my bag, I looked around before offering a small shrug. ¡°I guess it wouldn''t be so bad. There''s plenty of room to skate around here, and we could probably get some wicked air off a couple of those hangars over there. Plus, bonus, I''m pretty sure there isn''t a girl your age within like five miles of this place, so we wouldn''t be subjected to your horrifying attempts at flirting.¡± I let that hang for a second before grimacing. ¡°But on the other hand, it would also mean not being there for those races. So never mind, we¡¯ll just have to warn all the girls in that immediate area to evacuate.¡±


    Bailey the cat made a noise in her cage before turning to yawn at me. I supposed the look was supposed to chide me for talking while she was trying to get some sleep. How terribly rude of me. She did, however, give my finger a curious sniff  and lick when I put my hand close to the bars. And she purred as I used my other hand to scratch behind her ears. It was a sound that made me smile, even as I again pushed down the feeling that I knew this cat from somewhere. I still couldn''t figure that one out, or why the insistent thought kept poking at my brain no matter how much I tried to ignore it.


    Finally, between all of us, two of the airfield mechanics, and Jefferson, we had our bags loaded onto a nearby hovering cart and started to make our way to the plane itself. It was one of three that my family technically owned, though my parents tended to rent out two of the three at any given moment. It wasn¡¯t like they could use all three of them at the same time. Well, usually. There had been one time when my dad had to use three of them at staggered points to get to this meeting in Hong Kong. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure why he hadn¡¯t just used teleportation at that point if the meeting was so important, but it had something to do with needing to carry a sensitive piece of equipment that couldn¡¯t handle that sort of transportation. Either way, still a rarity.


    This one was the smallest of the planes, since we weren''t actually carrying much cargo. Even then, there were enough seats for fifteen people to recline comfortably, individual video game systems, televisions, and so on for each person, a kitchen area with a full stove, fridge, microwave, espresso machine, and more, a stocked bar with all the stuff my parents liked, and a six-person Jacuzzi at the rear. So yeah, in all, it wasn¡¯t a terrible way to spend the few hours it was going to take to get to Arizona. Even if I did have to push those intrusive guilty thoughts out of my mind yet again.


    Once our bags were stored, I took Izzy to find our seats and buckle up. She was already staring around with wide eyes, looking almost comically small in the large leather seat. It was more like a full-sized reclining armchair than the sort of seat you might find on a regular passenger airplane. Izzy almost disappeared in the thing. Not that I could talk when it came to that, since I wasn''t exactly any bigger than she was. We probably could have both sat in the same seat together through takeoff if it hadn''t been very much against the rules. Everyone had to have their own seat and seatbelt.


    While we were waiting a minute to take off, Izzy leaned over my way and whispered softly, ¡°How come we didn''t just take one of the regular flights from the big airport?¡±


    Before I could respond, it was Simon who spoke up from behind us. He had the cat carrier strapped down in the seat next to him. ¡°Are you kidding? Have you seen how full the flights out of town are? It doesn''t matter where the jet¡¯s going, every single flight is booked all the way through next week. Everyone wants to get out of Detroit now that the quarantine is over. We would''ve had to kick other people off a flight.¡±


    From the opposite side of the plane, Mom turned to nod our way after buckling herself in next to Dad. ¡°That''s correct. It would''ve caused much more of a disturbance for us to take the, ahh, regular flight, as you put it. Not only because we would have been taking seats away from others who bought them first, but the security we would have needed to bring, the fuss they always make when we arrive, all of it would have made everyone¡¯s day at that airport just a little more complicated than it already would be. And a day at the airport is complicated enough without our family barging in and adding more to that.¡± She offered a reassuring smile. ¡°I know this can seem like too much sometimes, but it is the less obtrusive and problematic way to travel, for multiple reasons. Especially given that the plane itself is one of Dennis Caoul¡¯s designs.¡±


    Caoul, I explained to Izzy while our parents spoke to the pilot for a minute, was a Tech-Touched without any sort of secret identity, whose focus was on creating engines and other forms of vehicular motion. Sort of like Wren¡¯s movement specialty (I didn¡¯t say that part), but specifically for various types of engines. He had created several that gave off zero or near-zero emissions/pollution and ran off things like solar energy. The materials and process used to make them were too prohibitively expensive to mass produce so far, and his engines didn¡¯t work very well with the full-sized passenger jets, but they were working on all that. And that sort of thing wasn¡¯t exactly a deterrent for our parents, so all our private planes used his designs. We polluted the air less during a three hour flight on this thing than a regular moped taking a ride around the block.


    Plus, as my mother had put it, paying Caoul the outrageous fees he needed for designing our planes meant he would have the funds he needed to work on fixing the size, material cost, and intensive work requirements for future designs. With any luck, he¡¯d be able to help make larger-scale planes that were even more energy efficient.


    Finally, the plane took off. I relaxed back in the seat. Or rather, tried to. Obviously, I had been on flights like this pretty often throughout my entire life. We took a plane at least several times per year to various places. I was very accustomed to the entire process. So accustomed that I could normally sleep through both takeoff and landing.


    And yet, this time something was¡­ wrong. As soon as we were in the air, I felt my stomach lurch. Which was odd enough, but suddenly it felt like I was falling--no, like I was floating? Like I was drifting through the air with nothing around me. Which just made my stomach lurch again. I was gripping the armrest tightly, struggling to even figure out why my body was reacting like this. It felt so wrong right then. This was bad.


    Obviously noticing my reaction to all that, and the expression on my face as the plane continued to climb, Izzy put one hand on mine and squeezed it. She kept her voice in a very low whisper so she wouldn¡¯t be heard by my parents on the other side of the plane, or by Simon behind us (though he already had his earbuds in with his music blaring so she probably could¡¯ve spoken in a normal tone of voice without disturbing him), ¡°Hey, are you okay? I thought this was all completely normal stuff for you.¡±


    Swallowing audibly despite myself as my face turned a little more green, I struggled to keep it under control. ¡°It sh-should be,¡± I managed somewhat weakly. ¡°I think--hang on.¡± I didn¡¯t want to say anything out loud, no matter how quietly we were talking. Instead, I used my phone, texting the other girl. Which actually turned out to be a mistake, given how much my stomach swam while looking at my screen. I think that extra power I have for sensing colors and shapes around me is having a fit right now because we¡¯re so far in the air. The only real color and shape is the plane around us, and the rest is just empty air. There¡¯s no ground, nothing else for it to feel. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s really messing me up.


    After reading all that, Izzy grimaced before squeezing my hand once more. She used her other hand to text back, Can you last for three hours like this?


    The reminder of how long this was going to take made me feel even more queasy, but I pushed that down with a quick glance toward the provided barf bag. I thought about telling my parents I couldn¡¯t do this, but dismissed that immediately. They knew I was fine on airplanes. I¡¯d been on them often enough without any issue that suddenly having a problem immediately after we took off would¡¯ve made them curious, to say the least. They would¡¯ve wanted to have me checked out, which I couldn¡¯t afford.


    So, with some effort, I straightened a little in my seat and offered a weak smile that way. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I whispered out loud. ¡°Just need a little distraction, I guess.¡±


    Izzy still looked uncertain, but nodded before reaching out to grab a couple of the nearby game controllers. We booted up the system and settled in to play something together.


    It helped a bit, being distracted. But I never did fully relax through the entire flight, no matter how much I tried. My paint-sense or whatever just kept insisting something was terribly wrong because it couldn¡¯t pick out any shapes around us. Which, combined with my general unease about my entire family situation just made the entire flight that much more uncomfortable.


    But hey, at least we were only going to Arizona. I had no idea what I would¡¯ve done if the tournament had been overseas.

 To The Races 32-09 And Patreon Snippets 37 Concluded

    Things didn''t exactly get better for me throughout the rest of that flight. If anything, the longer we were in the air, the worse it was. I kept feeling more nauseous as it went on, to the point that I couldn''t really keep it secret from my family. My mother noticed first that I had stopped playing the game with Izzy and was lying back against the seat, staring at nothing. My stomach was rolling and it felt like the whole world couldn''t keep itself right side up. I wasn''t barfing or anything, but it was pretty close. I couldn''t focus on anything except for how awful this was.


    Mom stepped over and took my temperature with her hand before telling me it was probably just motion sickness. Which made both Dad and Simon decide I must be dying, because since when did I ever get motion sick? I had been going on the most nausea-inducing rides since before I was technically tall enough to do so and I hadn''t had any problems. I had certainly never had any issues with being on a plane. I just wasn''t affected by that sort of thing at all, at least until now.


    Yes, I did immediately worry about that. My paranoia spiked, fears that they would realize the truth just from that. But there wasn''t much I could do about it. I mumbled something about probably eating something bad earlier and just focused on not losing my lunch. It was all I could do. Hopefully, once we were back on solid ground, I would feel better. Which didn''t exactly solve the issue of what I was going to do on our way back if it made me feel sick again, but I''d have to cross that bridge when we came to it. Maybe I¡¯d take a pill and sleep through it or something.


    Finally, after what felt like days, the plane came in for a landing. I was curled up in the seat with my mother reaching across the aisle to run her hands soothingly through my hair. But at that moment, as soon as the plane touched down and began to brake, I felt better. No, I felt just fine, perfect really. In that second, all the mounting nausea I had felt throughout the entire flight completely vanished. It was like I had never felt sick in the first place. All of it was just instantly gone, as though the plane touching the ground had simply flipped a nausea switch in my head.


    I sat up so quickly my mother audibly gasped, and had one of those barf bags in her hand held out to me. Apparently she thought I had moved like that because I was about to throw up. Even Izzy, sitting beside me, looked concerned as she shifted to pick up my glass of water if I needed it. But I just shook my head, waving off the bag and the glass as I looked around to get a glimpse through the window at the runway we were rolling along. ¡°I''m okay. So, we made it?¡±


    Dad turned in his seat, only noticing right then that I was sitting up. He raised an eyebrow while holding his phone in one hand. ¡°Well hey there, my little scoundrel. You feeling any better? I''ve got a doctor ready to come take a look at you as soon as we step off the plane over there.¡±


    Oh, fantastic, that was just what I needed. As my stomach rolled for a completely different reason, I quickly shook my head once again. ¡°Nope, don''t need them. See, I¡¯m totally fine.¡± To demonstrate that, I rolled my head back and forth, bouncing up and down in the seat while shaking my upper torso and waving my arms out. I honestly wasn''t sure what that was supposed to prove or how it helped, but it was the only thing I could think of right then. I had to do something to show them that I really wasn''t feeling sick anymore. I absolutely didn''t want one of their doctors to start paying too much attention to me. This was supposed to be a nice little vacation, not a new way to add on even more stress than I had already felt, damn it.


    Granted, it was probably also dangerous to show them that my nausea had vanished the very second we landed. That probably wasn''t completely normal. But hey, it couldn''t be that bad, right? Sometimes people just felt sick on roller coasters and then recovered as soon as they stepped off it. True, I had never experienced that before, but I was pretty sure it was a thing.


    Obviously, my parents weren''t content to just leave it at that, no matter how much I would have preferred it. No, Mom felt my forehead again, which was redundant since she''d already determined I didn''t have a fever back when I had been nauseous. But it wasn''t as though I could simply tell her that. I had to play along with this and try to keep it as casual as I could.


    As soon as we were able to step off the plane and onto that private airfield, Dad waved over a man who was waiting. Sure enough, he was a doctor. I had no choice but to stand there while he examined me. He asked me a bunch of questions about what I had eaten, if I ever got air sick before, and so on. All while he shined his light in my eyes, ears, and mouth, and checked my heart rate. The entire time, I was struggling to tell myself to calm down. There was no way he would be able to tell that I was Touched just through this simple physical examination, right?


    If he could tell, the man had a very good poker face, because he basically didn''t change expression at all throughout the entire examination. He simply ran me through his tests before informing my parents that he couldn''t find anything wrong. Given I had demonstrated just how much better I was already feeling, his best guess was that I had just experienced a simple, if rather intense bit of air sickness. But, of course, we were supposed to let him know if I started feeling any effects again while we were in the city. Other than that, he couldn''t really do all that much. He did give me a bottle of motion sickness pills and told me to take two of them if it started getting bad again, or before we went on any roller coasters or anything like that.


    Simon, of course, piped up to point out that if I needed to take motion sickness pills every time I did something that might require it, I would run through the bottle in a couple days, tops.


    My eyes rolled and I insisted that I was just fine. It was nothing to worry about. And I kept telling myself that was true, even as I shoved that bottle of pills deep in my pocket. That whole situation had to be a result of my powers. It was the only explanation. My extra sense gave me a subconscious knowledge of the scenery around me. When we were that high in the air, it couldn''t sense anything, and that gave me some weird feedback or whatever. It made me feel sick.


    It reminded me a bit about that time when I had jumped onto that car when those Oscuro guys were fleeing from the crime scene. They¡¯d had some sort of Touched with them who had been able to make the car enter hyperspeed or something. From what I had been able to pick up later, his name was Drive. No one really knew too much about him. He didn''t actually participate in fights. He was just a, well, driver. He used his power on getaway vehicles. And when I had been dragged along for the ride after he used it, I¡¯d been left feeling pretty loopy, like I had been drugged. Honestly, he could have done a lot of damage to me when he saw me lying there after I fell off the car. But he didn''t. He just left me alone and kept going. If I had the chance, I''d thank him.


    But in any case, I was going to guess that both me feeling loopy after that trip, and feeling sick after being in the sky were connected to that extra sense. It really didn''t like when there was a dramatic change to my surroundings, apparently. Which was just another thing to get used to.


    Fortunately, my parents seemed satisfied after the doctor said I was fine. Maybe me doing another couple cartwheels and a backwards handstand helped with that. Either way, they left it alone and seemed willing to accept that it had just been some sort of weird momentary thing.


    Of course, soon as that was over, the heat seemed to sink in for all of us. It was almost noon, and the temperature here in Arizona was hovering somewhere just over a hundred degrees.


    Yeah, it was pretty damn hot. So, we all quickly piled into the waiting car with its incredibly helpful air-conditioning to head for the hotel. I had no idea how people lived here on a regular basis throughout the summer. This place was just too damn hot for anyone to be comfortable.


    Even after deciding it had been because of the flight, I still held my breath a little as the drive got underway. But the nausea didn''t return. Thank God. I had no idea what I would''ve done if I started feeling motion sick that easily. Especially considering I was finally just about to get my actual legitimate drivers license. It would have been just my luck to find out that a delayed side effect of my Second Touch was very severe motion sickness while inside a moving vehicle.


    The hotel we were going to in Phoenix was called the Grand Legend. It had been built in just the past couple years, and was a combination resort and Casino. The state had legalized gambling recently, probably in an attempt to lure in more tourists who wouldn''t want anything to do with the heat otherwise. If I remember right, my family had invested in that too. I had no idea if that was simply because it had seemed like a good business move to dump money into a casino in another state, or if this was part of some sort of plan to expand the reach of the Ministry this far. Honestly, I wasn''t sure if that even made sense, but I also didn''t want to totally dismiss the idea. I felt like there probably wasn''t much that my family would put millions of dollars into if it wasn''t in some way connected to getting more Ministry power and influence.


    Yeah, all I could do as far as that went was keep my eyes open. Maybe I would spot something useful. Or maybe it would amount to nothing. Either way, I wasn''t going to let myself obsess over it too much. After all, this whole trip was supposed to be a vacation from all of that. Also, there was a part of me that was certain that Paige had convinced Izzy to spy and tell her if it looked like I wasn''t treating this like a real break. They would probably both scold me for it.


    So, I did my best to push those thoughts out of my mind and told myself to focus on just having a good time over the next few days. I wasn''t going to be Paintball on this vacation. I was just going to be Cassidy, and let all that extra stuff sit for now. It wasn''t like the entire world would fall apart into complete anarchy and violence just because I took a break for a little bit, right?


    After being dropped off at the hotel, we had a couple bellhops come help carry our stuff in. We were heading to the top floor penthouse, obviously. It took up fully half of that highest level, facing the golf course behind the hotel with a view of the totally remodeled and renamed Jackpot street to one side. That was where all the Vegas-style casinos with all their fancy lighting, fountains, and statues were. The city really had embraced their new tourism draw over the past couple years. I could see the covered walkway along the sidewalk in front of the casinos. From here, it simply looked like a canvas roof supported by poles every ten feet or so, covering those walkways. But apparently there was Touched-Tech in use keeping the area under them relatively cool. Not as cool as being inside the casinos themselves, of course. But at least cool enough to walk around out there without immediately disintegrating into a puddle, paint powers or no paint powers.


    The penthouse had three separate bedrooms, enough for our parents to take the main one, and for Simon to take another, while Izzy and I shared the last one. Which was only about half the size of my regular room, but still. It wasn''t as though we would be spending much time there. Not when that tournament was going on. I was planning on watching every race I could from right up front in person. I wanted to be down there in the action as much as possible. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Technically, saying that Simon had a room to himself wasn''t actually right. He was sharing with his new cat, Bailey. I still felt like I knew her somehow, but I was resigned to the fact that it was just my weird paranoia about everything poking its head up. She was just a little gray cat, there were plenty of those around. And she kept staring at me because I was something new and that was just what cats did. There was nothing untoward about Simon having a freaking cat.


    Clearly the idea of going on vacation was turning my brain inside out. It was frantically looking for some sort of problem to focus on, and for some reason, it chose Simon¡¯s new pet. I really needed a distraction, that much was obvious. Fortunately, we had to come to the right place.


    My mother wasn''t quite ready to believe that I was perfectly fine now. Not after she had spent so much of the flight over here seeing me curled up in a helpless ball, obviously queasy. Before letting us leave the hotel, she insisted on giving me her own once-over, doctor¡¯s words be damned. She asked me a bunch of questions about how I was feeling, meeting my gaze with that ¡®Mom knows if you''re lying¡¯ expression. Fortunately, in this case, I didn''t need to lie. I really did feel perfectly fine now, and I showed her that by jumping around and turning in circles.


    Finally, between all that and what the doctor had said, Mom was at least satisfied enough to give up on her brief idea of having me stay in the room for the afternoon. She did, at least, insist that I stay with Izzy and that we call them if I started feeling even a little sick again. Especially considering the heat out there. We both pinkie-promised that we wouldn''t push things, I endured a little more teasing from Simon, and then we were set free to explore.


    Today would be about just looking around. The actual games wouldn''t start until early tomorrow, so we were just going to check out the hotel and the surrounding area for a bit.


    As we left the penthouse and descended on the elevator, Izzy looked at me. I could tell she wanted to ask about that whole weird thing with my nausea, but held off. There were cameras in the elevator, and I was absolutely certain that my family had access to them. Given the way my mother had clearly been worried about me, she probably wouldn''t even hesitate to tap into them to make sure I hadn''t just immediately collapsed the second I left her line of sight.


    So, Izzy held off on getting into any of that. Instead, she shook her head. ¡°This place is ridiculous. I''m pretty sure our room by itself is bigger than the ones that most people stay in with their entire family.¡± After a brief pause, she looked around before gesturing with both hands. ¡°Actually, you know what? I think this elevator is bigger than most of those rooms!¡±


    Snickering despite myself, I patted her on the back while taking my own look around the stupidly fancy elevator with all the padded seats, gold designs, and the mirrors on every wall. It really was a bit too much. And probably twice the size of a normal elevator. Honestly, I wasn''t even sure why it needed to be bigger than usual aside from showing off. But then, showing off was basically the reason for this entire hotel¡¯s existence. ¡°You might be onto something there. But hey, at least there''s no real chance of us getting claustrophobic on the way to the lobby.¡±


    With a snort, the other girl replied, ¡°Well, yeah, it is a pretty long ride. Maybe we should''ve packed a lunch for the trip. I mean, what floor are we even staying on, the six thousandth?¡±


    My head shook. ¡°It''s not quite that bad. There''s only seventy-two floors in the entire hotel.¡±


    Even as I said that, the elevator stopped to let someone else on, a tall man with an eyepatch over his left eye, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. This was definitely a guy who was here to enjoy himself. Or maybe he was a pirate. Not like the old parrot and peg leg type. There were gangs that went around some of the freeway areas between major cities and attacked shipping trucks. They were like gangs in the cities, but they roamed around freely instead of being tied to one area. People called them pirates for obvious reasons. And some of them embraced that with the old clich¨¦ imagery. But I was going to bet that this particular guy was probably just a normal person who happened to have an eyepatch. Again, brain, knock it off.


    Obviously, I needed a distraction. This was getting ridiculous. Every time I looked at anyone new, my paranoia was going off on a rant about them being pirates or an ordinary gray cat being familiar. My parents had been right about one thing, I clearly needed a real break from all of that stuff. And they didn''t even know a tenth of what had actually been going on in my life.


    The man with the eyepatch glanced my way, offering a faint smile that revealed a few gold teeth. Yeah okay, he was definitely leaning into that imagery. Maybe it was a costume for a party or something. Or he just liked looking that way. Whatever it was, he spoke up just before the elevator reached the ground floor. ¡°You two must be headed straight for the casino.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± I agreed sagely, as both of us bobbed our heads. ¡°We¡¯ve got a real gambling problem. She lost her car the other day.¡±


    ¡°And we were both twenty-eight before we got here last week,¡± Izzy put in brightly. ¡°I had no idea you could gamble away your age.¡±


    Giving a loud guffaw, the maybe-pirate replied, ¡°Believe me, kid, if they could do that it would definitely work the other way around. Let¡¯s just be glad it doesn¡¯t, cuz we¡¯d have eighteen-year-olds walking in this place and leaving in their seventies a day later.¡±


    The doors opened, and he gestured for us to go ahead. As we were walking out into the lobby, a couple resort employees ran over. At first I thought they were going to cause trouble for the guy. Instead, they started asking him all sorts of questions about event scheduling, maintenance, and other things. And they called him Mr. Legend.


    Oh. Oh, Mr. Legend. As in the Grand Legend, the hotel-casino we were in right now. The guy we had just been talking to wasn¡¯t a pirate. He was Lysander Legend. Yeah, that probably wasn¡¯t his actual birth name, but it was what he went by. He had been some sort of lounge singer and magician for awhile, made it big, invested in one of the smaller motels about ten years ago, then sold that in order to invest in this casino as soon as gambling started to become a thing in Arizona. He was, as far as I knew, my parents¡¯ primary contact here in the city for their Phoenix investments.


    Which probably meant he was at least aware of the Ministry, if not directly involved in it. So maybe my paranoia had been onto something after all. But either way, there wasn¡¯t anything I could do about that right now.


    Instead, I looked over at Izzy and offered a slight shrug. ¡°Well, I guess we¡¯ve got some time to fill before dinner.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go find something fun to do.¡±


    ******************************


    Amber And Her Mother React To What Happened With Whamline


    The house had been empty and quiet when Amber arrived. Probably because her mother had expected to pick her up from the Minority headquarters once her debriefing was over. But Amber hadn¡¯t been able to even think about facing her. She¡¯d slipped out the back, asking one of the staff in there to let her mom know that she was going home. Then she¡¯d taken a rideshare on a roundabout path, stopping at a coffee shop for a drink before actually going back to the house. A house that stood dark and silent as Amber entered. The coffee, barely touched in that time, was already cold. She set it aside on the counter and forgot about it almost immediately. Getting the coffee had just been something to do, a familiar action within a world that was suddenly so unfamiliar. She put it on the counter, then walked into the living room. Her father¡¯s chair was in the corner. The chair he had always sat in. Neither she or her mother had been able to bring themselves to move it or sit in it at all over the past year since his death. It just stayed there.


    Amber still didn¡¯t sit in it then. She sat in front of it, dropping to the floor with her legs crossed under her. She sank down, head lowered to stare at the carpet, and remembered. She remembered staying in that spot, sitting there as a child watching television with the comforting presence of her father behind her. She could imagine crinkling pages from her dad reading his book, and his occasional chuckle at an amusing line. He read novels while she watched her cartoons. He was just¡­ he was there. He had always been there, right behind her.


    Now he wasn¡¯t. And he never would be again. He had been gone for a year, but now¡­ now they knew why. They knew what had happened to him, who had killed him.


    She heard the key in the lock, followed by her mother¡¯s entrance. Though it was still fairly dark in the living room, Amber knew her mother could see her there, illuminated by the streetlights outside coming through the partially-curtained window. But she said nothing. Neither of them spoke for a moment. They knew they were both aware of each other, yet silence reigned.


    Finally, Diane O¡¯Connell slowly walked over. Her bag was left on the table by the entrance, as the woman made her way to where her daughter was sitting. She too didn¡¯t take the recliner that had been her husband¡¯s favorite spot. She simply sank down to the floor by the girl, hesitating very slightly before reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. It was a touch that made Amber flinch.


    The teen girl said something then, a soft mumble that was indecipherable. Diane had to lean closer, gently squeezing the girl¡¯s shoulder without speaking, without interrupting.


    It came again, that mumble. Then again, and that time Diane understood it. Amber repeated herself again and again. Her shoulder, under her mother¡¯s hand, was shaking.


    ¡°--sorry¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­¡± The shaking continued, as Amber forced herself to turn her head, forced herself to look her mother in the eyes. She deserved that much. The misery of her broken soul was on full display, the tears in her eyes blinding her to the point that her mother¡¯s form was completely indistinct, a blurred figure near her. ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡± Her voice was so cracked, so shattered, that it was barely decipherable. ¡°I swear¡­ I swear I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    Diane had thought that her heart couldn¡¯t break any more after the death of her husband. But this--seeing her daughter and hearing her words, it was so much worse. A soft gasp escaped her, and she slid her hand from the girl¡¯s shoulder to her arm, squeezing it before taking her other arm. Gripping her tightly, she pulled Amber around and into an embrace. ¡°Oh baby, no, no, not that. It wasn¡¯t your fault, no. You didn¡¯t know. They didn¡¯t know, nobody did. Nobody but him.¡± Just saying that word, ¡®him¡¯ without any name at all still made her voice crack.


    That boy, that child had shaken her hand. She¡¯d met him, spoken to him both in costume and out of it. He was her daughter¡¯s frie--her daughter¡­ teammate. And all that time, throughout the entirety of their relationship, he had known who she really was, and what he had done.


    Amber¡¯s face was pressed into her shoulder, the tears immediately soaking through Diane¡¯s shirt. But she didn¡¯t care. She held her daughter even tighter, clutching her as they both sat in front of her husband¡¯s chair. Pressing a kiss to the top of the shuddering girl¡¯s head, she murmured soft reassurances. She told her daughter she loved her, that her father had always loved her and always would. She told her it wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault but that boy¡¯s. They didn¡¯t know. Amber didn¡¯t know. Only that boy did, and he was¡­ he was¡­


    ¡°He¡¯s gone,¡± Amber murmured, though there was no relief or pride in her voice. There was nothing but disgust, loss, and emptiness. ¡°J¡­ Jer--he¡¯s gone. He¡¯s dead. He won¡¯t¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly barely managing to get the next words out, her voice hollow, empty. ¡°... hurt anyone else.¡±


    Yes, Jerry Meuster was gone. He was dead. And so was Carson O¡¯Connell. They were both gone, and what had actually been accomplished with their loss? Was there any real sense of justice with the boy¡¯s death? Was there any sense of relief, of closure? Had his death actually made either of the women feel any better about what they had lost?


    It was too soon to say for sure, the wounds too fresh. But as she sat in the dark and held her daughter, a single thought was all Diane could hold onto.


    She missed Carson. She missed her husband, Amber¡¯s father, and his killer being dead didn¡¯t fix that.


    It didn¡¯t fix anything at all.

 To The Races 32-10

    Obviously, we couldn¡¯t go into the casino. They might¡¯ve made the age for gambling in the state eighteen, but neither Izzy or I fit that bill. And honestly, it probably wouldn¡¯t have been that fun anyway. I preferred to risk far more interesting things than money.


    And yeah, that was only partially a joke. Either way, we had to find something else to do. Fortunately, that wasn¡¯t exactly difficult. Phoenix really was making a big push to turn itself into the tourist destination. Detroit might¡¯ve reinvented itself as the center for Touched manufacturing and the like, but Phoenix had been making a pretty impressive play to become the spot people came to in order to throw their money away either at the slots and card tables, or at any number of other entertainment spots. They had theaters, arcades, this truly amazing amusement park that was still partially under construction but was planned to rival Disney World itself, and more. The whole city and its surrounding suburbs were about three-quarters of the way through a five year renovation meant to turn this place into the biggest tourist trap in all of North America. And, as far as I was concerned, the hottest. Seriously, whose idea was it to build a city here? Every time we stepped out of the air conditioning, it felt like I was going to melt. Which, come to think of it, was actually a very distinct possibility with my new powers.


    The first place Izzy and I went was this go-kart racetrack just around the corner and down the street a little bit from the hotel. Through the entire trip, we did our level best to stay inside the air-conditioned pavilion area over the sidewalks. There were a few places where we had to step out into the heat and I was painfully reminded we weren''t in Detroit.


    But, we made it to the go-karts, paid what amounted to just over twice as much as we would have back home, and spent a while racing around the track with some other people. I might''ve noted that it was more expensive here, but I had to admit they had gone all out for the thing. It took up about two city blocks, and even had multiple levels. It was like a massive four-story parking garage (three levels above ground and one below) that had been converted into a go-kart track, with each level being a different thing. The ground level was a lot of dirt and hills, with a western theme. There were small statues of cowboys and Native Americans, a little frontier town with buildings that were only slightly bigger than we were, and even one part with a fake cave area to drive through where you can see statues of miners and prospectors doing their thing. At the far end near the ramp leading up, there was a scene of a sheriff with his posse and some bandits having what appeared to be a very dramatic shootout near an overturned wagon with gold spilling out. One deputy who had apparently been shot was lying near the gold, using a shotgun to threaten anyone who tried to come near it.


    All of that was cool enough on its own, but after doing a couple loops, Izzy and I realized that the scenes were changing gradually. The statues were moving when no one was looking, slowly playing out the scenes they were in. The gunfight was being gradually acted out, with some guys falling, others adjusting their positions, the miners finding gold, and the town going about its normal business. Yeah, okay, that was cool.


    And the other levels were just as intricate. The second level had a modern day feel, which I belatedly realized was spy-themed. Or maybe just action thriller. It was like driving through the middle of a big city like Detroit or New York, where the skyscrapers were just barely taller than I was standing up. The cars were toys, the people basically action figures. We could see car chases, shootouts on top of buildings, dramatic rescues via hanging helicopters, and more throughout the city. Like the western bit below, every time we came back around, there were changes made to those scenes to move them along.


    The top level of this place was future themed, with spaceships and aliens running around a landscape that was kind of like Mars with all the red dirt. There were hanging spaceships, the ceiling had a bright light like stars and two moons, the works.


    So the ground level was western-themed, the middle level was modern day, and the top was a sci-fi future. Together, Izzy and I went back down and checked out the underground floor. As expected, it was prehistoric. There were dinosaur models, a volcano, even this big t-rex head that would move back and forth along the area just in front of the track and roar at you as you raced past it just barely out of reach. That was cool.


    It was all cool, really. The whole place was so fun to race through, watching the various scenes advance bit by bit. They may have been simple ¡®stories¡¯ being told without any dialogue or anything, but it was still very neat to see going on as we drove.


    And that was just one of the tourist spots within walking distance of our hotel. After spending an hour or so with that, Izzy and I moved on. We checked out a nearby arcade, played at the batting cages, watched some classic cartoons at this neat little theater where you paid like a dollar for roughly ten minutes of antics from Bugs Bunny, Donald Duck, and so on, got our faces painted at a corner artist, and even went through this museum place talking about the history of gambling. They showed how slot machines were originally created, got into some stories about ancient card games, and just generally made it fun to listen to and watch. There was a lot of effort put into it.


    Even then, we barely scratched the surface of what there was to do just within a short distance of the hotel, let alone across the city. This place was amazing, heat or no heat. They were definitely working to earn their place as a tourism center. I could honestly hardly wait to see what they would do with the LEAT games. If their goal was to impress everyone watching and make them want to come, it was gonna be so epic.


    Eventually, we made it back to the hotel after a text from our dad to meet up for dinner at one of the restaurants in the lobby. And, naturally, that was an incredible meal all on its own. It might¡¯ve even been close to the level of Chef Claudio¡¯s work, though I wouldn¡¯t ever say that within his earshot. In all, it was just a fantastic meal to cap off a fantastic afternoon. I had basically completely forgotten about my problem during the flight, until Mom asked me if there had been any more issues with that. I assured her there hadn''t, and that I felt completely fine, which she seemed to accept easily enough.


    After dinner, our parents had to go to a meeting in one of the conference rooms, and Simon had a date. Yeah, a real date with a girl he had met here. I only teased him a little bit, which I thought showed great restraint on my part. It was a vacation for all of us, after all. I could let him off easy for once. Especially after everything he¡¯d done to keep things going while Mom and Dad were in the hospital. He¡¯d earned a real break.


    All of which left Izzy and me alone in the hotel suite. Well, not really alone. Bailey the cat was there, though when I checked on her, she was lying on the bed in Simon¡¯s room staring at the television. He¡¯d left it on. When I moved to turn it off, she hissed at me, so I left it alone. Apparently she enjoyed watching the shapes move or something. Which I supposed made sense, given it was some sort of nature documentary. There were lions on the screen, and the narrator was talking about the pride traveling in search of food. There were a lot of dramatic shots of amazing scenery with the lions in the background, and some where the camera was clearly attached to one of those tiny fly-sized drones given how close it was able to get to the lions without disturbing them.


    Honestly, I kind of got caught up in that and ended up sitting down next to Bailey, idly scratching her behind the ears. She seemed to like that, leaning into me without taking her eyes off that screen. Eventually, Izzy joined us, and we spent like half an hour just sitting there on our brother¡¯s bed, watching the lion documentary and petting his cat.


    Eventually, Bailey jumped from the bed to the desk nearby, where some water and what looked like bits of steak from room service had been laid out in bowls. She took her fill before disappearing into the bathroom where a litter box had been set up.


    ¡°Well, I think she deserves some privacy,¡± I murmured while standing up. ¡°Let¡¯s go check out what sort of game systems they¡¯ve got in this fancy-pants place. Simon said something about Haunted Deep Two, and I¡¯m pretty sure I can kick your butt this time.¡±


    We played games for awhile, including that one, watched a movie, looked out at the stars from the balcony, and I texted with Paige a bit to catch up with her. The trip was going--well she said it wasn¡¯t boring, but that she would give me the details later. I was pretty sure she did that because she didn¡¯t want me to try to find a way to suit up and go find her. Which was completely ridiculous. She was like thousands of miles away, not even in Detroit or Arizona. Did she really think I would try--yeah okay that was fair.


    Either way, eventually it was late enough for both of us to head for our rooms. Simon and our parents weren¡¯t back yet, but honestly, I couldn¡¯t spare the brain power to think about what any of them might be doing. Yes, there was probably at least some Ministry stuff going on, but I just¡­ meh, I couldn¡¯t focus on that. I couldn¡¯t do anything about it anyway. The thought of being seen as Paintball here made me almost laugh out loud. Maybe I had been lucky so far about people not associating Cassidy Evans with Paintball, but if ¡®both¡¯ of us happened to show up like two thousand miles away from Detroit, it might end up raising a few questions. So no, I couldn¡¯t go out in costume.


    Instead, I just took the chance to get some sleep. With the bright lights from the casinos across the street cut off thanks to the special tinted windows, the room was left almost pitch-black, and very quiet. It felt a bit different, lying in a strange bed so far from home, but I did eventually crash while listening to Izzy¡¯s light snoring.


    I was woken up hours later by two very different things. The first was the sense of someone staring at me, along with a bit of weight on the bed. The other was the sound of my phone buzzing on the floor. My eyes opened, and there was enough early morning light being allowed in by the tinted windows for me to make out Bailey. She was sitting on the bed next to me, staring intently my way. When I looked at her, she gave a firm meow, looked over at the source of the buzzing, then jumped down and left the room. Maybe she was hungry and couldn¡¯t get Simon to get up and feed her?


    Sitting up and glancing over toward the still-sleeping Izzy, I found my phone in my pants on the floor. It was my Touched phone, actually. I had a couple texts from¡­ from Silversmith. He was requesting a video call. Why would my dad be asking for a video call? Why did he want to talk to Paintball at all? Was this his way of checking to make sure I was actually sticking to my vacation? I had no idea, but I didn¡¯t want to do anything that could make him suspicious. I needed to call him, but where could I--Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Thinking quickly, I slipped out of the room and onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind me. The rooms had special noise-canceling privacy screens around them, so no one would see or hear me talking out here. Turning around, I looked at the glass of the sliding door briefly, before putting my hand against it. With a thought, it was suddenly painted dark green, with an intricate white swirl pattern. I did my best to make it look like a wall, and arranged my phone so it would only pick up that. Then I grabbed my special bag (of course I brought it with, vacation or no vacation) and pulled my costume on quickly. Once I looked like Paintball in an area that definitely wasn¡¯t the balcony of the very same hotel suite my dad was staying in, I sent the video call and held my breath. This better not take long. What if Izzy woke up and came out here?


    Thinking about that, I added a bit of green-yellow paint to the sliding glass door. If I heard it start to open, I would activate that and momentarily freeze it just long enough to end the call.


    Yeah, this was a great and not-at-all stressful way to start the day.


    Praying that whatever this was would just be quick, I watched as the video call was answered. A second later, Silversmith himself appeared on screen, standing--oh, he was on a balcony of his own, with a view of the exact same buildings that were across the street from¡­ from¡­ me.


    Slowly, I glanced to one side. My parents¡¯ balcony was about twenty feet away, and had its own privacy screen up. From this side, it just looked like a bit of thick black netting surrounding the balcony that was impossible to see through. Which was the same thing my dad would see around this balcony if he looked in this direction.


    My dad was there, twenty feet away, dressed as Silversmith while on a video call with me. This was¡­ yeah.


    Restraining the urge to gulp, I spoke up as casually as possible, ¡°If this is about making sure I¡¯m not out fighting more supervillains, I¡¯m pretty sure you could just check the news.¡±


    With an easy, casually charming chuckle, Dad-Silversmith (Dadsmith) shook his head. ¡°I promise, it isn¡¯t about babysitting you. Actually, Paintball, I called to ask for¡­ well, a bit of help, I guess.¡±


    Oh God, it was so hard not to reflexively look over at the other balcony right then. How absurd was this? We were both close enough to have heard each other in a normal conversation just fine if it wasn¡¯t for the privacy screens, but Dadsmith thought I was thousands of miles away, back in Detroit. It was just--eesh. I barely managed to keep my voice even and just replied, ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what I can--wait, are those casinos behind you? Did you gamble away your superpowers and now you¡¯re too embarrassed to ask your actual team for help getting them back?¡±


    Another easy chuckle came, as Dadsmith shook his head. ¡°Ahh, not quite. I managed to retrieve my powers from that bookie just fine, thanks. But as it turns out--ahh, you know what the LEAT games are?¡±


    ¡°Who doesn¡¯t?¡± I pointed out immediately. ¡°Wait, casinos, is that where you are? You took your own vacation, huh?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say you¡¯re not the only one who needed one,¡± Dadsmith replied. ¡°And yes, we¡¯re here to have some fun, and participate. Speaking of which, I was wondering if you might be interested in that. Participating, I mean. See, one of the contestants seems to have dropped out of a category you qualify for, so they have an open slot. And I thought you might be able to show these people what one of the best up-and-coming Touched from Detroit can do.¡±


    I blinked a couple times behind my helmet. ¡°Wait, this really isn¡¯t about an emergency or¡­ or--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about calling you in to do something dangerous,¡± Dadsmith put in. ¡°Which, I guess the fact that that seems odd to you says a lot about how your first few months have gone.¡± He gave a soft sigh before continuing. ¡°No, this isn¡¯t an emergency. I just thought that since you¡¯re not doing superheroics right now, you might like to have some fun. I can send a teleporter up to bring you down if--¡±


    ¡°No, no, that¡¯s fine,¡± I quickly interrupted. ¡°I have my own way to get down there.¡± I left that vague, letting him assume it had something to do with Trevithick.


    ¡°Oh good,¡± Dadsmith sounded relieved. ¡°So you¡¯re interested in filling that spot and competing in the games?¡±


    I painted a bright, wide smiley face across the front of my helmet. ¡°Oh, I think I can handle that. Though isn¡¯t there some sort of entrance fee? I¡¯m not sure I have the sort of--¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s taken care of,¡± he assured me. ¡°As I said, you¡¯re replacing another competitor who had to drop out, so you¡¯ll just be stepping in on their fee. But if you win, the reward goes to you. As does the fame, of course. But you¡¯re sure you can make it down here on your own? You¡¯d have to be here by five o¡¯clock to get checked in for the first event in your category at six.¡±


    ¡°Five o¡¯clock, got it, but where?¡± I really had to play dumb here, listening as my own father gave me directions to the place where I would need to check in as Paintball so they could run me through tests to make sure I fit in that category. He also asked if there was going to be any issue with my parents or guardian for leaving the state for a little while, again noting that I could be teleported back at any point. With a straight face (well, hidden behind my helmet), I told him that my own parents would definitely be watching me in that race.


    Hey, it was the truth.


    In any case, I got off that call as quickly as possible after that. Part of me was asking why I had agreed to this. I didn¡¯t need to. There was no life and death emergency, and even being here was a risk. Having Paintball and Cassidy in the same place? How was I going to pull that off, exactly?


    I didn¡¯t know. I hadn¡¯t even thought about it at the time, before agreeing. Because the truth was, I wanted to compete. I wanted to be part of this. I had watched these games for years. They were amazing. I hadn¡¯t even thought about being part of them until the moment Dad brought it up, but¡­ but now that the opportunity had been put in front of me, hell yes I wanted to. I didn¡¯t even care if I won anything or not, I just wanted to compete.


    Unsurprisingly, Izzy thought I was a bit crazy when I went back in the room and told her what was going on, but she also kind of understood. And she pointed out a few things that helped me feel like it wasn¡¯t as much of a risk as that voice in the back of my head kept trying to say it was. Our parents wouldn¡¯t be that suspicious about Paintball being here, since they had invited me. And the crowd was so huge at these things, as Cassidy all I had to do was say I was going for a closer look, take Izzy with me, then disappear to become Paintball. Izzy would easily cover for me. My parents wouldn¡¯t even question me wanting to be closer to the action, and there would be thousands of people around. Yeah, it wouldn¡¯t be difficult to get out of their sight.


    Once we talked that all the way through and I was assured that I didn¡¯t need to call my dad back and make excuses not to show up, Izzy looked at me. ¡°So, you¡¯re doing it?¡±


    Taking a deep breath before letting it out, I finally nodded. ¡°I know there¡¯s like a thousand arguments against it. I know it¡¯s kind of silly and risky. I know all that. But¡­ I want to. I want to run in the races. I want to compete. I want to try. Hell, I want to use my powers in a fun way, especially the new ones. If I could win one of those rings, it¡¯d be cool, but honestly I just¡­ I just wanna see what I can do out there. So yeah, I guess I¡¯m doing it. I¡¯m gonna compete in the LEAT games.¡±


    *******


    There had to be some sort of time fuckery going on, because it seemed like no sooner had I said that, then the entire day had passed. Oh, we spent time with the family. Our parents took us to a nearby amusement park and we hung out for hours together, playing games, going on rides, the lot. Simon even brought Bailey on one of those little cat leashes. It was both adorable and strange.


    The point was, I had fun. And it helped me not think about what I had agreed to through almost the entire morning. Eventually, we all went to the stadium where these early events were going to be held, picked up some lunch, and watched a few of the exhibition matches. The arena was meant for football games, but they had set the whole place up so that the floor could be easily and quickly adapted to add in various obstacles. There would be larger courses in shut-down parts of the city, or at a couple of the racetracks. But this arena was where the initial exhibition matches, the games meant for competitors to show the audience what they could do, would be held.


    Or¡­ what we could do. Yeah, that still hadn¡¯t really sunk in yet. But it probably should soon, given where I was. Izzy and I had followed the plan, telling my parents we were going down for a closer look instead of staying up in the private box with them and Simon. Now Izzy was out there somewhere, staying with the crowd on the far side of the arena so our family wouldn¡¯t notice I wasn¡¯t with her.


    And me? I had left the arena entirely, blending in with one of the groups heading out to smoke. Then I snuck around, found a private place to change into my costume, and made my way back in through the side entrance Dadsmith had told me to use. The man there had me demonstrate my powers to ensure I was the real Paintball, then led me to a room with about six judges. They weighed me, took my height, and had me sign a few waivers. They reminded me that this first event wasn¡¯t really a race, it was more of a way of letting each competitor in our category show the audience what we could do, basically any way we wanted. A way of building excitement for the real competition that would start the next day. When it was my turn, I was just supposed to take a run through the obstacles and make a good show of things while doing my best to hype up the crowd. The point was to make a spectacle. Apparently I would¡¯ve spent weeks going through training and testing, learning what was expected, and even just getting my name out into the crowds so people would know who the hell I was (well, who Paintball was anyway). But this was a last minute switch, so they were making do. They wanted me to stay after the event to get some more details about what would be expected throughout the rest of the week, but for now, all I really needed to do was show off for the crowd a bit.


    All of which led to where I was now: in the arena itself. I was right there, standing on a small platform where one of the guards had led me up through a tunnel that led onto the field. Ahead of me was a long stretch of grass, with dozens of weirdly-shaped obstacles, walls, spinning hoops, moving platforms, anything and everything for me to use to impress the thousands of people surrounding me. Thousands¡­ thousands of people sitting or standing all around me in those stands, staring at me. They were watching, waiting, expecting to see me put on a fun show for them. The announcer was hyping me up, talking about some of the stuff I¡¯d done in Detroit, going on and on about me being some up-and-coming Touched who was already making a name for myself after only being active for a few months. But honestly, I barely heard him. I was doing my best not to hyperventilate. This had been stupid. This was a bad idea. I shouldn¡¯t have agreed to it. I should¡¯ve made an excuse, my dad would¡¯ve understood. Why did I want to do this? Why did I want to--


    Then I didn¡¯t have any more time to debate with myself. I didn¡¯t have time to worry about how this was going to go. Because the announcer stopped talking, and an official began a countdown while tens of thousands of eyes were riveted on me. Tens of thousands of eyes just right here in the arena. There were cameras all around, broadcasting the image of me across the whole country, if not even further. The LEAT games were a big deal. Millions of people watched them. I had more eyes on me in that moment than I¡¯d ever had in my entire life put together.


    In what was somehow simultaneously an eternity and also only half a second, the countdown ended, and a loud buzzer filled the arena. That was the signal.


    It was time to show everyone what I could do.

 To The Races 32-11

    Right, so, I was supposed to be impressing people right now. This wasn''t about survival, or fighting anyone. I didn''t have to worry about bullets flying at me, or any other projectiles or powers. The only thing I had to do right now was give these people an exciting show. Not just a few bystanders hanging out in doorways or carefully watching through windows. It was, in a word, intimidating. If I had stopped to really think about it at all, if I had allowed myself to actually consider the amount of people who were watching me right then, I probably would have frozen up.


    But I didn''t let myself think about that. I didn''t let myself dwell on it. I put all those thoughts and feelings out of my mind instantly and simply threw myself into action. All those pesky voices going on about the crowd and the cameras, especially the cameras, were shoved away. I was just by myself, like when I was skating at the park. This obstacle course in front of me was nothing but a fun playground for me to practice with. I was showing off for myself, and that was something I was very good at. I knew how to lose myself in the moment.


    So, that was exactly what I did. Starting off with a bang, I put green-blue paint on the bottom of my shoes while sprinting forward along the first platform. In that same motion, I activated twin green lightning bolts along my legs to pick up some speed. The platform at this point was about ten feet wide, narrowing gradually as it went until it was only one foot wide, roughly twenty feet ahead of me. About ten feet beyond that was a glass or clear plastic tube, suspended several feet higher than the platform. The inside was tall enough for an NBA player to stand up in, and just about as wide. Along either side of that tube were a couple narrow ledges one could run along if they wanted to rather than using the inside. And there were two other smaller (only about two feet wide) circular platforms, these ones hovering in midair, that kept orbiting around the tube basically level with it. They were set opposite one another, so when one was at the front of the tube, the other was at the back, and were moving just quickly enough for each to make a full revolution around the twelve-foot-long tube in about five seconds. All of which was meant to give runners options about how to move through that area. The entire arena was like that, with several ways to get around at every turn.


    In my case, I aimed straight for the tube. At the end of the first platform, I activated that blue-green paint on my shoes, launching myself up as my momentum carried me forward. Just before my feet came down, I made my skates pop out, angling so that I would immediately be sent up along the sidewall of the tube, all the way to the ceiling so I was fully-upside down before continuing on back to the bottom, all while moving forward. That single revolution, skating up and around the tube, carried me to the opposite end. I hit the edge of it and used another shot of blue to bounce further out, just slightly too soon. The nearest rotating platform was still a bit too far away to casually land on, which made some people gasp slightly when they realized. But I simply activated a yellow parachute image on my back, slowing myself down just enough that the platform managed to make it there in time for me to land on it, retracting my skates.


    Landing right there on the platform, I knew everyone¡¯s eyes were already moving forward to see me jump to the next obstacle. But I didn¡¯t. I stayed there on the platform while it continued to spin, carrying me back around toward the front of the tube, the way I had come. Needless to say, there were a few murmurs of confusion, and a couple people out there in the audience started pointing and waving for me to go forward already. It was like they thought I didn¡¯t know what I was supposed to be doing right then. Which, given how short-notice my appearance here was, was probably fair.


    But I didn¡¯t listen, or give any indication that I could hear them. After all, the point of this exercise wasn¡¯t to finish quickly. Hell, it wasn¡¯t even technically to go any particular place. The point was to move around the arena with style. Which was just what I was going to do. Tuning the people out for the moment, I continued to crouch there on the platform for another couple seconds. Which was around the time when the crowd noticed what I was doing. The platform under my feet was already green, picking up speed. I had to use a bit of red on my shoes and directly under them to keep myself planted firmly, as the platform spun twice as fast as it had been going before. Which also meant that I had to shoot a spray of green to the other platform as we started catching up with it, so there wouldn¡¯t be a very nasty collision. They¡¯d made it clear that any damage to the things out here could be easily fixed or replaced, but still. That just seemed like a pretty bad way to go.


    I didn¡¯t stop at doubling the platform¡¯s speed either. Just as it came around the front of the tube again, I disabled the regular green paint. But, of course, that didn¡¯t just immediately stop the thing, it maintained momentum. Almost as soon as the regular green paint was gone, I put it back on and reactivated it. That way, the platform¡¯s speed was doubled based on how quickly it was moving in that particular moment.


    I did that a third time, then a fourth, in between doing the same for the other one to keep it out of the way. The crowd was really paying attention now, as the spinning platform was moving so quickly it probably should have made me sick. The world was passing around me in a blur, all those faces nothing but random splotches of color. Fast, I was spinning around so fast. It was all my red paint could do to keep me there.


    And then, in the next moment, I disabled it so nothing was keeping me there. I carefully timed it, mainly through instinct and my weird special ability to sense my surroundings, so that the paint holding me on the platform would turn off at the exact right moment for me to be flung off in the direction of the next obstacle. Which, in this case, was a series of five foot wide, ten foot tall vertical walls hovering around one another at staggered heights. The idea was that you could stick to the walls or run up them or whatever, jumping from one to the next back and forth until you reached the platform at the top. But you probably weren¡¯t usually supposed to be flying at the things at the blinding speed I was heading for them. I caught loud gasps coming from the crowd, who seemed to be afraid that they were about to watch me do my best fly against a windshield impression.


    Instead, I shifted my entire body into my paint form and turned blue. When my body slammed into that first wall, I was ricocheted backwards and up against the next wall, then up again, and so on. I just kept pinballing back and forth up through the staggered walls. At the top, I flipped over, hit the platform with a shot of blue-green paint after shifting back into my solid self, and rocketed straight off of that toward another obstacle.


    This one, as it happened, was a spiral ramp that twisted up and around, higher and higher toward the top of the arena. Like the tube, it was clear so the audience could easily see everything.


    Despite the absurd speed I was moving at as I pinballed off that last wall and launched myself from the platform, I still managed to aim myself so that I was rocketed directly at the entrance to that spiral ramp. My skates came out just as I hit the lower part, and I immediately angled my body so my momentum would carry me up around the ramp rather than flinging me straight off of it. Up and around I went, all the way through the spiral while the crowd oohed about how fast I was going. But honestly, they really hadn¡¯t seen anything yet.


    At the top of the spiral, there was a long slide leading down to another platform. That was the much safer and more sane option, considering how high up I was by that point. But there was also an angled ramp that would launch me even higher than that, and send me to a long series of hovering hoops. They were all different sizes, some stationary, some moving back and forth, and still others spinning in place. And yes, there were a couple that were both moving and spinning, just to add another layer of difficulty to the whole thing. All of them suspended around forty feet above the ground.


    Yeah, three guesses which of those options I decided to take. It wasn¡¯t the safe choice.


    Just before hitting that top ramp, I used a green race car image on my chest to boost my speed even more than it already was. By that point, I was probably going almost as fast as an actual race car. It certainly felt like I was, at the very least. This was wild.


    Rocketing off that top ramp and through the air, I extended my hand, shooting red paint in a wide spray ahead of me, angling to hit all of the hoops along the line. Though I didn¡¯t do anything with that paint just yet, simply allowing it to stay where it was. The first hoop was coming up, and I tucked my body into a ball to pass through it, somersaulting through the air. The next hoop was moving back and forth, and hadn¡¯t quite made it into position yet. But I simply used a bit of yellow to slow myself down a fraction. Then the hoop was there, and I passed through it, still tucked into that ball. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The rest of the hoops were almost all lined up properly. My spatial sense told me that. I just had to speed myself up for the fifth hoop (one of the spinning ones), then again for the eighth (a spinning one that was also moving back and forth), and finally slow myself down juuuust a hair for the last one. About halfway through the line of hoops, I had extended my arms and legs in a sort of classic Superman pose rather than staying tucked into my ball, shooting through that last hoop like I had been fired out of a gun.


    There was a series of flat platforms ahead of me, but I didn¡¯t angle myself to land on top of them. Instead, I painted myself pink-orange and aimed straight for the edge of the nearest platform. At the last second, I canceled the paint, giving myself a second of being both incredibly bouncy and tough. I could¡¯ve gone with blue again, but it felt right to mix things up. That was when I hit that platform edge and was immediately bounced back the way I had come, rocketing to those same hoops.


    That was the moment that I activated that red paint I had left on them. In an instant, all the hoops were yanked together into a jumbled, overlapping mess that left only a very narrow hole. Too narrow for a person to really fit through, even one as small as I happened to be.


    Knowing this was probably about to get a bit of a reaction, I shifted myself into my paint form just before hitting that small opening. My body immediately collapsed, parts of me spraying off in every direction while the bulk of my¡­ uh, liquid passed through the hole. And yes, that did get a reaction. There were a few scattered screams, and a lot of gasps. I heard the announcer say something about remaining calm. So uh, yeah maybe I should¡¯ve warned them somehow? Oops. But hey, it made them pay attention.


    They were certainly all paying attention when, a second after passing through that small hole in my liquid form, I pulled myself back together. One second there was a scattered spray of me shooting off in every direction in front of that jumble of hoops while the bulk of me passed through, and in the next, I was back to normal. Well, as normal as I could be, really. I looked like myself again, at least.


    Yeah, people were a little confused. And they became even more so as I turned my still-liquid body red. Every part of me was red in that moment, like a me-shaped gummy bear. A gummy Paintball, flipping end over end back toward the top of that spiral ramp. On one of those flips, I yanked a piece of myself off and threw it toward that slide that was extending off the front of the spiral. As the paint hit, I used it to yank myself that way. Just before landing, I shifted from red to green. Now I was three times faster than normal, hitting that slide in a crouch so I could go skidding down it in a blur of motion. A blur of uhh, partially-liquid motion. I hit hard enough that my body sort of collapsed a bit and slid down it like jello. This way I had shown the audience that I could use both ways of getting off the spiral.


    Just before I hit the bottom of the slide, my hand rose to point back the way I had come, almost exactly at the same spot on the higher platform that I had bounced off the edge of to send myself back through those clustered hoops. That time, I sent a shot of rainbow paint. A second later, I hit the edge of the slide, careened off it, and vanished in midair. Then I reappeared right on that spot high above, teleporting over there with my hands already extending to grab the platform. But I didn¡¯t swing myself up onto it. Instead, I swung myself under the platform, flipping over to plant my gravity-boots against the bottom of it so I was standing upside down. Or rather, cartwheeling upside down, one after another across the underside of the platform. Oh, and I made my paint-self completely white so I could glow in the shadows created by the structure above me. Yeah, maybe I was showing off a little. But wasn¡¯t that what I was supposed to be doing? The challenge right now was to make myself stand out against all the other Touched who would be doing this course. Hopefully, showing off a mix of my usual powers and the new ones would do the trick.


    Reaching the edge of the platform, I threw myself into a corkscrewing dive off it, aiming for a crescent moon-shaped one far below. On the way down, I shifted myself from white to blue once more. A murmur ran through the crowd just before I slammed into that crescent platform and immediately rebounded off it, the shape and my angle sending me forward. There was a second crescent moon there, facing the opposite direction, for me to bounce off. Sort of like the staggered walls I¡¯d used my blue bouncy form to climb moments earlier. Every time I hit, my body sort of collapsed in on itself like an accordion or a spring, then snapped back almost instantly as I went flying.


    I continued that way through several more obstacles, once again bouncing around like more of a pinball than a paintball. Finally, I angled the last bounce so that I could shift back to my solid shape and flip over, landing smoothly on my skates at the start of a long, narrow bridge that was angled slightly downward. There were half a dozen battering rams at staggered distances along the bridge, which kept swinging back and forth by chains that were attached to higher platforms. They were padded, of course, and there were special impact-absorbing Touched-Tech mats below to land on, but still.


    Naturally, I didn¡¯t even hesitate. Activating a series of green twisty lines around my arms and legs, I went racing straight across the bridge. As the first battering ram came in on my right side, I ducked under it, twisting my head just enough to let the front of the log-shaped thing pass inches from my skull on its way past. My hand snapped up and back to shoot black-pink paint at the chain holding the thing in the air. The paint combination turned the chain to liquid and made the battering ram crash down onto the bridge before it started to roll after me.


    Without losing any momentum, I kept going straight toward the second battering ram as it came back down from the opposite direction a few feet further on. Just before I would have run right into it as it was barring the entire bridge, I leapt up and over it, using another shot of black-pink paint on my way past to make that one fall as well.


    By that point, the audience seemed rather confused again about what I was doing. Which was fair. But I continued on through the next four battering rams, avoiding all of them and cutting them from their chains. Soon, I had all six rolling down the slanted bridge hot on my heels while skating just barely ahead of them. On the way, I kept hitting each of them with shots of red without using it just yet. I was picking up as much speed as I could. Then, right at the bottom, I hit the spot in front of me with a puddle of blue. Hitting that launched me into the air. Just for fun, I did several flips and twists on the way up. At the exact apex of my leap, my hand snapped out to shoot rainbow paint high above myself, toward the tallest structure in the arena. It was another slide, one that started near the top of the space, higher than any of the stands. The only way to see what was going on that high was to watch on the jumbotron. The slide sloped down and gradually curved all the way around the edge of the arena, eventually stopping near the base of where it started.


    My rainbow paint instantly teleported me all the way up to the top of that slide. The second I got there, my body twisted around to look back the way I¡¯d come. The battering ram logs had hit the blue paint by then and were flying through the air, though somewhat awkwardly, wobbling violently the whole time. Before they could start to fall down, I pointed at them with one hand, before pointing up at the ceiling of the arena with the other. Red paint shot from each hand, and soon the battering rams were being yanked up past me on their way toward the ceiling. I canceled the paint on each one at a time at just the right moment, before turning back to the slide. Even as the logs fell toward me, I pointed ahead of myself and sprayed out a blue-red combination onto the slide, making it dramatically more slippery.


    The battering rams were right there, crashing down onto the slide. I leapt up, twisting around to pass between the two nearest ones just before they slammed into the structure and started to roll down it. My body flipped over in midair, landing feet first (I had retracted my skates) on the third log just as it landed as well.


    Just like that, the log I was on started to roll down the slide. I had to rapidly run backwards on it to stay in place. How the audience was reacting to this, I couldn¡¯t possibly guess or pay attention to. It took everything I had to focus on this bit. I jumped backwards to land on the log behind that one, almost losing my balance briefly before catching myself and running backward on that too.


    That continued the entire way down and around on that slide. I kept jumping back and forth between all the logs, running backwards on them to maintain my balance while making my way down. Just before reaching the bottom, with about ten seconds left on the big timer that determined how long I could keep trying to impress people, I decided to go all in and flipped backwards, going all the way from the front-most log to the one in the rear. But instead of coming down on my feet, I landed upside down on my hands and began to rapidly move those up and down to stay on the log in that position as it rolled. I came down through that last bit of slide in a handstand position on the rolling log. I almost lost it a couple times, but barely managed to keep it going right to the bottom.


    Just before my log crashed into the others that had already stopped, I used blue paint under my hands to bounce myself up into the air and flipped over one more time. My hands pointed down to hit two of the logs with red paint right near their ends so that when they were yanked up toward my red gloves, it pulled them upright. I canceled the paint immediately, leaving the logs to land on their ends right next to each other just as I came down on top of them, one foot on each.


    I stood like that, raising my arms over my head while balancing on those upright logs, just as the timer buzzed. Which was fine by me, considering how exhausted I was by that point. So, I let myself drop into a quick series of exaggerated bows to one side of the stadium after another. Then I flipped backward off the logs, allowed them to fall, and bowed again after landing smoothly. And that was when the audience really started to roar.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I mumbled to myself as the exhaustion really started to hit me. My knees were wobbling, and I could barely stay on my feet. ¡°... I think they like me.¡±

 To The Races 32-12

    It really didn''t hit me until I was done with all that just how much energy I was putting into it. In the heat of the moment, I really hadn''t thought about that. There hadn''t been any time for it. Or for thinking at all, really. All of my attention had been devoted toward going through the next obstacle, performing the next stunt. I had shut everything else out completely, ignoring it all as just background noise.


    But now, after leaving the arena and being guided by one of the assistants to a small room that he assured me was free of any recording devices or anything, I had to sit down on the bench that was sitting up against the wall. I sank that way and breathed, my knees shaking a little. I hadn''t even been in any sort of fight, but it still felt like I had gone through the wringer. Oh, it was fun, no question. But it was also a lot of very intense acrobatics and use of my power in a short time. Between all that and the belated understanding of just how many people I was performing in front of, yeah, it was a lot. I had to sit there doing nothing, just staring at the floor for a minute or so.


    I wasn''t stupid enough to take my helmet and mask off or anything like that, of course. It didn''t matter that they insisted there was no way to monitor this room, or how much trouble they would be in if it turned out there actually were cameras. I wasn''t willing to take that risk. For all I knew, someone had managed to sneak something in between the time that it was checked last and now. That really would be just my luck. So, as much as I wanted to take all that off and breathe better, I didn''t dare. Well, I could and did take just the helmet off at least. I clutched it against my stomach and panted a little bit. I was still very exhausted mentally and physically, but at least I could think.


    With my helmet off, I was able to take advantage of the bottled water they had sitting there in a small fridge. God, that tasted good right then. I gulped it down and let out a slow, relieved sigh.


    Realizing that I had felt my phone going off repeatedly, I tugged it out and took a look. Oh yeah, I had a bunch of messages from basically everyone back home. Wow, that was a lot. I had multiple messages from everyone on my team, including a few from Qwerty and the Cuddles using phones that Wren had apparently given them, from Amber, Eits, Pack, even one from Cavalcade of all people. And speaking of messages from my team, Paige had sent about a dozen. Everyone wanted to know how I was pulled into that, what had been going through my mind, how it felt, if I was going to participate in even more events or if that was a one time thing, and so on. And, of course, there were a bunch of congratulations. Seriously, some of the messages I read made me blush under that mask. Sure, they were my friends, mostly, so they had to be nice about the whole thing, but still. My face was burning hotter the more I read.


    Paige¡¯s messages were a lot more under the lines of wanting to know what I was thinking, if I¡¯d lost my mind, if I had ever even glanced in the general direction of the definition of a vacation, and more. Yet somehow, reading those messages made me blush even more than the complimentary ones did.


    Okay, that was probably enough of that. There wasn''t time to really absorb it all properly. I sent several quick messages, promising to talk more later and explain things a bit better. I also thanked everyone before picking myself up. Right, time to get out of here. My parents were going to be wondering where I was. Rather, where Cassidy was, not Paintball. Though to be fair, they might wonder about that as well. But right now, I just had to make sure they didn''t start to connect not being able to find Cassidy-me with Paintball-me now being here. I had to get back.


    Of course, as soon as I stood up and went to leave, I found myself face-to-helmet with a man standing in the hall. He was a short, blond guy wearing a blue and gold jumpsuit with Event Staff written across the front. When he saw me, the man extended a hand. ¡°Hey there, the name¡¯s Devon. Think of me as your go-between, your aide, coach, whatever. Anything you don''t understand, I''ll help with. Anything you need, I¡¯ll go get. Here¡¯s my number.¡± His hand extended, offering me a card with nothing but his name and the promised phone number. ¡°Call me any time, for anything. I know you¡¯re brand new here so you¡¯ll probably need a bit more than most.¡±


    Honestly, that was a lot of words to be throwing at me all at once at that moment. But I could tell he really did just want to help me understand what was going on and all that, so I took it in stride. Accepting the card, I let out a soft breath before simply asking, ¡°Do they need me for anything right now? Please say no, I kind of need to do something else for a little bit. Uh, personal stuff.¡±


    Devon blinked at that before quickly shaking his head. ¡°Oh, no, you''re good for now, no problem. They need you to come back tonight around nine for a few pictures and have some discussion, and so you can turn this in.¡± He produced a thick, colorful pamphlet and held it out to me. ¡°That''s a list and explanation of all the events we''re doing this year. They just want you to go through it and see which ones you might be interested in, then let them know tonight. They¡¯ll work out the details beyond that. Believe me, we''re pretty accustomed to working with people who have limited time and keep running off to do other, more important things.¡± That came with a wink. ¡°We know we''re just some silly games, but we try to make sure everyone has some fun with it.¡±


    Accepting the pamphlet, I thanked him and promised to come back that evening. He, in turn, gave me directions to the place I was supposed to go for those pictures, and again reminded me to call him if I had any questions or anything. Then he slyly added that I¡¯d made quite the impression. Which only made me blush again, so it was a good thing I¡¯d put the helmet back on.


    With that, I quickly headed down that private hallway to get out of the arena. Or at least, I tried to. Except I didn''t really think about the fact that there would be a huge crowd (understatement of the century) out in the main foyer around the arena. The place was packed. As soon as I opened the door and saw the sea of people out there, I made a noise of surprise in the back of my throat. How was I supposed to get through them? Maybe I could just paint my way right up to the ceiling and run along that until I found an exit to slip through? Would that be too rude or something?


    Before I could think too much about that and come to an actual decision, I heard Devon clearing his throat behind me. When I turned that way and let the door close before anyone could notice me, he pointed to the door at the opposite end of the corridor. ¡°There''s a tunnel through there. It''ll lead you to an exit in one of the parks nearby. Looks like a locked storage shed. Should be fairly private. We do our best to keep it that way. You can get back in through there anytime you need to. Just flip up the keypad and type in the last four digits of that phone number I gave you. There is security all the way through the tunnel and on the shed, so don¡¯t take your mask off yet.¡±


    Yeah, that was good advice. Thanking him again, I quickly moved that way. Staying away from the crowd was probably for the best. I did enjoy showing off for people, but right then I just wanted to get back to my civilian identity and find Izzy so we could make sure our parents saw us before any sort of suspicions might have settled in. This whole situation was going to be hard enough to keep from spiraling out of control. That voice in the back of my head insisting that agreeing to this had been a stupid mistake that was going to blow up in my face had been getting louder now that the first event was over. But I told that little voice to shut up for awhile and just mind its own business.


    Shoving all of that out of my mind as much as I could, I went through the door and followed the tunnel. It was a long one to get all the way to that park, which gave me time to look at my phone once more and type a few more quick messages. I let the others know more about what was going on, and why I had been pulled into the games. I promised that it wasn''t going to be a big deal, and that I would let them know whenever I was actually going to be involved in any of that.


    While I was at it, I sent Izzy a message asking where she wanted to meet, and telling her where I would be coming from. Then I made my way up the stairs at the end of the tunnel and into an empty room. There was a keypad on this side of the door too, so apparently they weren''t taking any chances at all. And there was a very obvious camera in the corner. Which I was pretty sure wasn''t the only one. That was just them being polite by making it clear that there wasn''t any privacy in here. Which was better than being secretive and trying to catch people, for sure. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Giving that camera a wave, I punched in the code that Devon had given me. As soon as the light turned green and the helpful, affirmative chirp came, I opened the door and carefully slipped out.


    This really was a secluded area of the park, surrounded by trees and set down under a raised hill. I could hear people running around and calling out to each other off in the distance, so I went the other way, deeper into the trees and away from that shed. As soon as I was sure there wasn¡¯t anyone around and I had left any cameras behind, I quickly moved into the thickest part of the trees I could find and changed clothes. Belatedly, I also took a moment to drop into a puddle and then reform into my female-presenting self. Or at least as physically female-presenting as the usual me tended to be. I was just plain old Cassidy again, my costume safely stored away.


    With that done, I checked my phone one more time. Izzy had let me know that she would meet me by the hot dog and popcorn stand on the northeast side of the stadium. She was already in line while they were changing out the obstacles to get set for one of the next freestyle challenges. That one I went through had been more about agility, reflexes, that sort of thing. The new one set up would be focused on people showing off how strong and tough they could be.


    Between wanting to see that, not wanting my parents to have any reason to be suspicious, and needing to get out of this heat (it was like the surface of the sun out here in the open air), there wasn''t any time to waste. I quickly made my way out of the park and back to the arena. I just had to show them my VIP badge to get back inside, and from there, it was easy to find Izzy. She was still waiting in line, and I didn''t want to make it seem like I was trying to cut in front of all the people behind her. So, I just stopped there long enough to let the other girl know I was going to grab drinks from the nearby comically overpriced vending machine while she got the food.


    I was feeding money into the slot when a voice called out, ¡°Oh thank fuck, someone familiar!¡±


    Blinking in confusion, I turned that way, unsure if the voice was even talking to me. But yes, as soon as I saw the source of it, I knew the words had been directed my way. ¡°Dani?¡± It was definitely her, striding right up with a backpack slung over one shoulder and fancy-looking binoculars hanging from her neck. Apparently she wasn¡¯t doing that well in the heat here either, given the almost scandalously and definitely distractingly skimpy tank top and shorts she was wearing.


    Wiping hand across her brow, Dani gave me a quick smile. ¡°Not only someone familiar, but you found refreshments. You really are a life-saver. Can you believe how fucking hot it is around here? I wandered out of the air conditioned area for like ten minutes trying to find something, and I think I almost died. It¡¯s gotta be a hundred and ten degrees in the goddamn shade.¡± Her eyes disappeared behind quickly-produced shades. ¡°My l--lucky friends love it, but they¡¯re insane.¡±


    Taking the several bottles of water I had requested from the slot, I offered one to her before taking a deep gulp from my own. Yeah, that definitely hit the spot. ¡°Uh, hey, Dani. I didn¡¯t know you were coming down to this place. I mean, I didn¡¯t know you had any interest in this sort of stuff at all.¡±


    After thanking me and downing about a quarter of the bottle in one swig, the girl shook her head. ¡°Are you kidding? I watch the games every year. I mean, yeah, I never got to see them in person, but now that--ah, my aunt found out I like them, she thought it¡¯d be good for me to have a trip.¡±


    For a couple minutes, the two of us stood there and talked about several of the major events from previous years. She really did know a lot about this stuff, though her favorite competitor in the strength competition, Grigori Aliev, was absolutely gonna get trounced by Victoria Palmers, no matter how much he had been bulking up in the off season. Vics, as she went by, was just too good. She was one of the physically strongest Touched in the world, and definitely the strongest who was actually participating in the games this year. But oh well, Dani would just have to learn how to live with being disappointed once all those competitions were done with.


    Soon, Dani started talking about this competition. Which meant she immediately mentioned Paintball, asking if I had known anything about him actually participating this year. For just a second, my paranoid brain tried to start setting off alarm sirens, but she finished by noting that given who my parents were, we probably had some sort of inside track on that whole thing. Right, right, she just thought we¡¯d had a heads up on that thanks to the whole being rich donors thing. That made sense, I could stuff all that terror and panic about potentially being exposed back in the box where it belonged, and get my heart to settle itself back to a regular rhythm.


    By that point, Izzy had joined us, and she was the one who quickly answered. ¡°Nuh uh, nobody knew Paintball was gonna compete. I don¡¯t think even Paintball knew until pretty close to time. I heard someone say something about teleporting him down here to replace one of the others.¡± With a smile, she lifted the tray laden with food and offered it that way. ¡°Hot dog? Nachos?¡±


    Shrugging, Dani took one of the cartons filled with cheese-drenched chips. ¡°Hey thanks. Between you throwing food at me and Cassidy supplying the drink, I¡¯m making out like a bandit.¡± She gave a low chuckle at her own words before adding, ¡°But seriously, my aunt sent me down here with a crapload of vacation funds, so next time, let me pick up the tab. If we¡¯re all gonna be here for the whole competition anyway, we might as well meet up again, right? Unless I still have cooties.¡± With a considering frown, she lifted her arm and sniffed the pit. ¡°Am I contagious?¡±


    ¡°I think we¡¯ve been inoculated recently enough,¡± I replied dryly. ¡°But sure, that sounds cool.¡± I was, naturally, going to have to find ways of disappearing from Dani¡¯s sight whenever Paintball needed to compete. Which was going to be a whole other thing to add onto the pile of complications. But if I could stay away from my parents without arousing too much suspicion, I was pretty sure I could pull that off too. Especially with Izzy¡¯s help. We¡¯d just deal with it.


    From the sound of things, the strength exhibition was about to start up soon, so we started making our way back. Dani had her own seat down in the crowd, but we assured the girl that there wouldn¡¯t be any problem with her joining us up in the box. It wasn¡¯t like we didn¡¯t have enough seats in there, and I felt like I should probably make an appearance in front of Mom and Dad. I really needed to do that as much as possible. Actually, come to think of it, I should probably make a point of disappearing sometimes when Paintball wasn¡¯t competing, just to make sure they didn¡¯t tie those two things together at all. It was just too bad Sierra wasn¡¯t here so we could go the other way and have ¡®Cassidy¡¯ be around while Paintball was out on the field.


    As soon as we got back to the private box our family had rented out for the duration of the games, I introduced my parents to Dani. Simon had apparently gone off somewhere, so she was spared from meeting him. Mom and Dad greeted her warmly, and immediately insisted that she feel free to come use the box for any of the events, even if we weren''t here. They gave her a badge like the ones the rest of us had, and assured her that it was no trouble at all. As Dad put it, us Detroit natives had to stick together through the competition. And through the ridiculous heat.


    I was barely paying attention to all that, of course. Izzy and I had already found our way onto the balcony overlooking the arena below. It was time for the big strength exhibition to start. All those other obstacles from before had been removed, and now there was an assortment of heavy objects. It ranged from simple, yet enormous weights, to broken cars and trucks, even a bus. To one side was a firing range where uniformed guys with guns were waiting to help show off how bulletproof some people were, and there was even a length of railroad track set up with a working, reinforced train engine on it ready to literally attempt to plow into anyone who wanted to go that far.


    People took the strength competition very seriously, needless to say. And this was just the exhibition, a chance for them to show off for the audience. When it came time for the actual matches, things would really kick up a notch. I couldn¡¯t even imagine the sort of liability waivers and whatnot the competitors for those things had to sign.


    Dani joined us, sitting on my other side, opposite from Izzy. Raising those fancy binoculars, she took a long look before lowering them as she gave me a quick grin. ¡°And I thought my seat down there gave a good view. I could get used to this.¡± Her head turned slightly to glance through the doors and back into the enclosed part of the box, where my parents were having a quiet conversation. ¡°Your folks are pretty cool, you know? They didn¡¯t have to let me come right in. I mean, you barely know me. And they don¡¯t know me at all.¡±


    I offered a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal. I mean, we¡¯ve got plenty of room. And like my dad said, we¡¯ve gotta stick together. As for not knowing each other, maybe we should fix that.¡± I still wasn¡¯t sure exactly what was going on between her and Amber, especially with Pack added into the mix, and that wasn¡¯t any of my business. But still, Dani seemed cool.


    She, in turn, smiled easily. ¡°You know, that does sound pretty good. And not just because it means I get to spend more time in places like this.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to get to know you better, Cassidy Evans.¡±

 Non-Canon 36 - Jennica Versus Jacob (Summus Proelium-Heretical Edge NONCANON Crossover)

    This was going to be so epic. Once word got out about what Jennica had managed to do today, there was no way Pencil and his gang wouldn''t practically beg her to join them. She was going to use her own foster brother''s powers to traumatize or even kill everyone in this stadium. Sure, she''d let a few escape to tell the story. It was more fun that way. But there would still be plenty of bodies to satisfy the Scion bloodlust. And the best part of it was, she''d get away with the whole thing completely. Once all was said and done, it would be Jason who took the blame for this. She was killing and traumatizing all these people, while destroying her own adopted brother''s life. If that didn''t get Pencil¡¯s attention and make him want her (in every possible way), nothing would.


    And best of all, thanks to a little precaution she¡¯d taken before starting this whole thing, she also had Paintball and his little group unconscious and trapped in one of the other rooms. They¡¯d thought they could break in here and disrupt her fun, but Jennica had been ready for them. Well, ready for anyone to interrupt, really. She¡¯d taken the time to stick her red puppeting gems onto several other Fell-Touched. Those mercenaries, Two-Step and Lastword, Double Down from La Casa, Angel Dust and Janus from the Easy Eights, and Suckshot from the Ninety-Niners. She managed to get her controlling gems onto each of them, and now they worked for her. It wouldn¡¯t last forever, of course. But with those guys under her power, she was actually able to ambush those so-called Avant-Guard fucks, so now they wouldn¡¯t be a problem. So she could focus on squeezing every bit of entertainment out of this without interruption. And when it was all over, she wouldn¡¯t just have a delightful video of all this trauma and death to show Pencil, she¡¯d be able to hand him Paintball and all his friends as the cherry on top. It was so completely perfect.


    Of course, the whole thing wouldn''t be nearly as fun as it was supposed to be if she didn''t have the chance to really experience just how much terror she was spreading. She needed to be right there in the thick of things, hearing the people crying and begging as they desperately tried to get out of the stadium. She needed to smell their sweat and see the delicious panic in their eyes. Being in the control room watching from that far away just wouldn''t be the same. No, she was posing as just another face in the crowd, a bystander trapped just like the rest of these suckers. The gem she had left on Jason allowed her to control his every action, and through that, she controlled the zombies. All these people scattered through the stadium were screaming and running while the undead creatures chased them down. It was so fucking funny. Especially when she saw some stupid bitch standing in the middle of one of the aisles between seats, screeching what were probably her kids¡¯ names. She just kept standing there screaming those names as though the children might pop up from behind one of the seats to wave. Goddamn hilarious shit. Hell, it was already fun enough to think of how impressed Pencil would be, but what she really couldn¡¯t wait for was the reaction from Paintball and those other cocksuckers when they saw just how badly they had failed. Which would probably happen right before she gave them to Pencil. Mmm, now that was a delicious thought. This really couldn¡¯t be going any better. How fucking stupid would it have been if she didn¡¯t have puppeted Fells to back her up? She couldn¡¯t even imagine how badly this whole thing would¡¯ve failed if she only had Jason when Avant-Guard and their friends arrived. The situation would¡¯ve fallen apart. But no, she was too smart for that.


    Oooh oooh, Jennica had just spotted two young children, maybe a year shy of being teenagers, pushing their way through the screaming crowd while looking right at the hysterical woman. That had to be her kids. This was perfect! When Pencil saw the video of this, he wouldn''t just invite her to join the Scions, he''d make her one of his top people. No one would ever dismiss or ignore her again. The whole attack would be impressive, sure, but this moment would be the capstone.


    Before the children could reach their mother, just as she turned and noticed them, Jennica sent two of the zombies that way. They teleported Into view directly behind those brats at the very second that a look of relief crossed their mom¡¯s face. Jennica couldn''t have planned this better if she''d tried from the start. The video would catch that expression appear and then transform into such perfect shock and horror when her children were turned into fucking ash in front of her. The thought of just how much that shit would shatter the annoying screeching bitch was so glorious.


    But Jennica''s delight didn''t last long. Just as the zombies grabbed the children, they immediately released them. The kids screamed in terror, then stumbled forward. They looked over their shoulders, saw the zombies, and froze. But their mother didn''t. She ran right up and grabbed them both, yanking the kids backwards behind her. Mom and kids standing right there, perfect targets! Well, not as perfect as it would¡¯ve been to force the mother to see her kids killed in front of her, but still, they were right there. And yet, through it all, the damn zombies just kept standing still. They weren''t doing anything. Jennica couldn''t understand it. She shoved her own power through Jason, checking her control. Yes, he was still perfectly puppeted, still exercising his will over those dead creatures. Or trying to. But something else was stopping it. And not just with these two zombies, she realized belatedly. All of the creatures had stopped short without any warning. They¡¯d been chasing, attacking, terrorizing, and now they weren¡¯t doing fucking anything, no matter how much effort she forced Jason to put into controlling the things. Something else was blocking his power and forcing the zombies to stay right where they were.


    Something¡­ or someone else, that was. Someone was blocking Jason¡¯s power, stopping him from controlling those zombies. But who--how--what? What in the living hell was going on!?


    ¡°Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the crowd! Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don¡¯t care if I never get back!¡±


    The song came without any warning, abruptly blaring out across the speakers and over the sound of people crying for help. It was enough to stop them, thousands of eyes snapping toward those speakers. Which also made them notice that the zombies had stopped and weren¡¯t chasing them anymore. So much of that terror Jennica had so carefully cultivated and had been basking in was just¡­ gone, that easily. Not all of it, but the people weren¡¯t throwing each other to the ground and screaming in their panicked rush to escape. They just stopped, staring in confusion as the song continued. Jennica didn¡¯t want them to be confused, she wanted them to be terrified! What the hell was going on? What was this!?


    The answer--or well part of an answer-- came a second later. There were dozens of people, a mix of players, staff, and civilians who had scrambled over the fence, scattered through the baseball diamond and surrounding outfield. All of them had been surrounded by zombies who had been herding them around, toying with them until Jennica was ready to start the slaughter. Now, of course, those zombies were as frozen as the ones in the stands, while the people they had been toying with stood around, looking as confused as Jennica herself felt right then. But in the midst of that, things somehow managed to get even worse. Directly on the pitcher¡¯s mound, a new figure abruptly appeared. Well, first it was the shaft of blindingly bright blue light extending into the sky. That shaft of light caught everyone¡¯s attention even more than the song had, especially Jennica¡¯s. She stood there in the stands, making sputtering noises of disbelief and confusion, as the light faded to reveal the newcomer, the intruder.


    He was taller than Jennica, but still a couple inches under six feet. His black hair was cut short, and his clothes¡­ well he almost looked like he should have been paired with Grandstand. He wore a black tailcoat and vest, both with gold trim and buttons that seemed to catch sunlight to glimmer distractingly. His boots and pants were also black, and he had a frilly white shirt under the vest and coat. A coat that was billowing despite the complete lack of any sort of breeze, while dark clouds of purple and black smoke seemed to pool around the figure for no reason. Despite the colorful outfit, he wore nothing over his face. He was almost disturbingly handsome in a somewhat androgynous, ethereally beautiful sort of way. Like a mythological elf.


    ¡°Let me root, root, root for the home team! If they don¡¯t win it¡¯s a shame!¡±


    The song continued, while the strange new figure standing there on the pitcher¡¯s mound made grand hand gestures, as though he was conducting an orchestra.


    ¡°For it¡¯s one!¡±


    The figure raised one finger with his left hand, while simultaneously making a sweeping motion with his right. At the same time, intangible hands reached up from the ground under each and every one of the zombies who were down there on the field. An instant later, those ghostly hands grabbed hold of those zombies and forcibly yanked them down into the dirt.


    ¡°Two!¡±


    Now two fingers were raised on that left hand, even as the stranger made a sharp yanking motion toward the stands with his other. In response, every single one of the zombies who were still in the stands flung themselves off them and rained down onto the field.


    ¡°Three strikes--¡±


    A third finger rose while the other hand made a yanking down gesture, while those ghost hands appeared once more, grabbing the fallen zombies and pulling them into the ground through the dirt.


    ¡°--you¡¯re out!¡±


    Up in the control booth, something slammed into Jason from behind. He went flying through the window, which shattered just before he hit it, and fell all the way down to the field before being caught by two nearly invisible figures at the last second.


    ¡°At the oooooold baaaaaaaaalll gaaaaaaaame!¡±


    ¡°Well!¡± For the first time, the intruder spoke, and his voice somehow managed to be projected through the loudspeakers so everyone could hear him. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta say, what a boring and predictable display! Here I thought I was coming to this place so I could stop a dangerous and powerful Necromancer before he managed to hurt anyone, but what do I find instead? A pathetic coward, hiding in the background while they use someone else¡¯s power to attack helpless, innocent people! I came for a challenge, but the only thing I¡¯ve found so far is¡­ unimpressive.¡±


    Even as those words echoed through the stands, Jennica felt her anger billowing upward. Coward? Boring? Predictable? Oh, that was it. She would show this stupid fuck, whoever he was, just what she could--Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Ah, there you are.¡± With those words, the figure turned and looked directly at her. Their gazes locked, and he offered a faint smile that still managed to make her heart flutter despite everything. Which was probably the most annoying thing about the whole situation. He was devastatingly attractive. ¡°You look so mad right now. Everyone else up there is confused, scared, worried, but you? You just kept looking more and more angry with every word I said. So, you want to prove me wrong? Why don¡¯t you stop hiding and come down here to join us?¡± His arm rose, gesturing toward the exit in the distance, far from where Jennica was standing.


    ¡°Unless, of course, you¡¯d rather run away.¡±


    No. No, no, no! If she left now, it would be all anyone remembered. Pencil would never allow Jennica to join them if she ran from this piece of shit! Everything had been going so well, so perfectly, and now--now¡­ fuck! She couldn¡¯t run away. She had been called out, pointed to, and now all the people around her were staring. They knew her face, they knew what she looked like! Everyone would know, not just Pencil, the entire fucking city! They would all know if she ran away. No one would ever take her seriously again, she would be a joke forever, a pathetic failure.


    But on the other hand, if she killed this stranger, if she showed just how dangerous she was once and for all by taking the dramatic intruder and turning him into a bloody smear across the baseball field? Then people really would remember her, for all the right reasons.


    Oh yes, she could work with this. Whoever this man was, wherever he had come from, she was going to make him regret showing his face now. For about two seconds before she made sure he never felt anything ever again. Or, even better, managed to get a gem on him so he would be forced to work for her.


    Fine, this wasn''t how she planned to reveal herself, but so be it. Jennica snapped her hand out, throwing one of her green gems out over the field. She was wearing five rings, each with a different color stone in it. The matching green gem glowed briefly as she used that to teleport herself to the other gem as soon as it reached the area by the third baseline. There she was, dropping into the dirt in her long red raincoat. She stayed in that kneeling position with her head down briefly, using the moment to pluck her goggles with the cloth mask piece attached from her pocket. When she straightened up, the goggles and mask were over her face, leaving just her mouth and chin exposed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are,¡± she called out, mentally cursing the way her voice cracked slightly, ¡°but you chose the wrong city to make your debut in. You wanna have a one-on-one with me? Maybe, but you¡¯ve gotta earn that first. And dude? I don¡¯t think your parlor tricks are gonna save you from them.¡±


    The whole time that had been going on, Jennica had used her connection to her enslaved secret advantages to call them out. And in that moment, just as she said those words, they dropped out of the sky to join her. All around the girl, facing the intruder, Two-Step, Lastword, Angel Dust, Suckshot, the two-faced Janus, and Double Down arranged themselves. Yes, yes this would work. She wasn¡¯t going to reveal herself this soon, but beating the shit out of this arrogant fuck while showing the world that she had control over an entire gang-worth of Touched? Maybe he¡¯d done her a favor after all.


    ¡°See,¡± she intoned with a smirk while the people around them threw themselves to the ground for cover, ¡°you¡¯re outnumbered and overpowered.¡±


    If the intruder had any concerns about her reinforcements, he didn¡¯t show it. He simply stood there, coat still billowing while giving each of them a long, lingering look. ¡°Outnumbered? Overpowered?¡± There was amusement in his voice that made her bristle. Which only got worse as he gave a low chuckle that rumbled through the stadium. His voice was still connected to the loudspeakers. It made Jennica glower, annoyed that her own voice sounded so inconsequential by comparison.


    ¡°Oh my dear, you already made so many mistakes, but none so great as those.¡±


    Those indistinct, intangible figures rose out of the dirt once more. There were dozens of them, not only around the man himself, but around Jennica and her troops as well. They were--they had to be some sort of power, the ability to summon semi-tangible assistants? What was--


    The man was already continuing. ¡°You see, assuming a Necromancer is ever outnumbered is¡­ well, it¡¯s just a bad idea, isn¡¯t it? And as for being overpowered¡­¡± He very deliberately looked Jennica up and down, head tilting just a little before giving a soft, dismissive chuckle. That¡­ that was perhaps the worst part. He didn¡¯t give any argument, didn¡¯t detail why he believed he was stronger, didn¡¯t argue anything.


    He just¡­ chuckled.


    Oh that was it. Without thinking anymore, without planning anything out, without any thought other than how fun it was going to be to make this piece of shit beg for mercy, Jennica sent her assembled troops that way. Not just the Touched slaves, but the rest of the zombies she had been holding back out of sight. Two dozen explosions of fire and ash appeared behind the man. He had all those burning zombies coming at his back. Meanwhile, Suckshot produced an assortment of heavy workout weights from his pocket dimension and sent them flying at the man. Janus¡¯s arms grew and extended to either side to block off his potential escape. Two-Step and Double Down both launched themselves that way just behind the flying weights. Lastword used his current power to summon metal coils from the ground to grab the man¡¯s legs. And Angel Dust swooped down from above on glowing dust-wings to cut off his escape that way. A cloud of her nauseating dust flew ahead of her, centered on the man.


    This was going to be a short fight.


    Then¡­ the nauseating dust from the flying woman was intercepted by a cloud of what looked like sand that just flew up from the man. Ordinary sand just¡­ flew up, crashed into the dust, and knocked it away. Then it hit Angel Dust herself, and she immediately recoiled with a cry of pain. She was acting like it burned her. One second she was on a collision course with the bastard, and the next she was careening off to crash into the stands.


    The weights that Suckshot had sent flying that way would have reached him in that second. But without any warning, the one in front just stopped for no apparent reason. It froze in midair, just before the others slammed into it, one after another. They all collided, before dropping to the ground, followed by the one that had frozen first.


    Each of those coils that Lastword was trying to wrap around the man¡¯s legs were caught in mid-grab by other tentacles. These seemed to be made of burning ash, emerging from one of the man¡¯s palms as he held it down that way.


    Meanwhile, a long red staff with a spear point at one end and a claw at the other had appeared in the man¡¯s other hand. It snapped up, just as Double Down reached him. A blast of concussive force erupted from the end of the staff, slamming into Double Down before sending him careening out of the way to crash into the same stands as Angel Dust.


    Two-Step was just behind him and to the side, avoiding the blast of force before lashing out with a punch at the man¡¯s head. His own physical form was mirrored by his ghost-like copy, whose own punch would finish the job the first started.


    Or it should have. But when Two-Step¡¯s fist went through the space where the man¡¯s head should have been, it wasn¡¯t there anymore. Somehow, despite seemingly being focused on everything else, the man snapped his head to the side to avoid the blow. Naturally, he adjusted his ghost-copy to appear behind the man, fist already flying at the back of his head.


    Another ghost appeared. This one looked like a glowing blue Revolutionary War soldier, catching that incoming fist against his musket to stop it from hitting the goddamned intruder!


    In the next second, the man pivoted on one foot, his other rising with near-blinding speed to slam into Two-Step¡¯s chest with enough force to send him flying off into one of Janus¡¯s massive extended arms.


    As for Janus himself, at a thought from Jennica, he began to slam both of those arms together to catch this stupid motherfucker between them. And what did the man do? He flipped that staff of his around and held it out horizontally. Just before the enormous hands would have completely encompassed and squashed him like a fucking fly, the staff suddenly grew. It was several times its normal size. And when the hands slammed into it¡­ they stopped.


    It was impossible. Completely fucking impossible. Janus was too strong for that. And yet, it happened. The hands hit either end of the enlarged staff and stopped completely short. Worst of all? This stranger was holding the staff with one hand. The other was still pointed down with those ash-tentacles keeping the metal ones from grabbing him. He held the staff one-fucking-handed and still made Janus¡¯s giant hands stop in mid-slam.


    ¡°Hm,¡± the man muttered, ¡°that¡¯s just about enough of that.¡±


    He pivoted, yanking the staff out of the way while shrinking it back down. Before the giant hands could recover and smack him after all, he sent a blast of concussive force into one of them, knocking it out of the way just as he leapt far too high for a human. Landing on the back of the hand he had hit, the man launched his staff like a spear. Jennica barely had time to register that he¡¯d thrown it, before the blade of the thing collided with--with--oh--no no no! The blade of the staff collided with the red gem on Janus¡¯s neck, knocking it off of him. Her control was severed instantly.


    But the man wasn¡¯t done. Even as the staff was rebounding off its target, he pivoted while still standing on the giant hand. Both of his hands snapped out to either side. The first sent some sort of energy disc flying into the stands. It hit the gem on Double Down¡¯s back as he was picking himself up, snapping it off before rebounded off a seat there, then cut through the gem on Angel Dust¡¯s shoulder on the way back, breaking it.


    Meanwhile, a small portal appeared in front of the man¡¯s other hand. He stuck it through, even as an identical portal appeared behind Suckshot. He grabbed the gem attached to that figure¡¯s lower back. With a single yank, he ripped it right off.


    Flipping backwards off the giant hand, which was already starting to recoil as Janus came back to his senses, the intruder seemed to hover upside down for just a second. Long enough for his staff, which had magically reappeared back in his hand, to transform into some sort of bow. A bow with an energy string. And an energy arrow that appeared as he drew that string back before sending it flying.


    The arrow cut straight through the gem on the back of Two-Step¡¯s head, cutting through it without damaging the man himself. A second later, the arrow hit the wall next to the dugout and exploded in a blast of concussive force. Just as it did so, two of those small portals appeared once more. The first was directly in front of the expanding wave of force. The other was next to Lastword. Just enough of that concussive blast went through the portal to catch the edge of the gem on his arm, snapping it off.


    They were free. They were all, every single one of her enslaved army, completely fucking free before Jennica had any idea what was happening. But that was okay, her zombie army was still--still--


    They were down. The zombies were on the ground. They hadn¡¯t even attacked. They just dropped to the ground and ignored all of her orders. All of her orders through Jason.


    Fine, fine! She¡¯d just have to do this the--


    Without any warning, the man disappeared from where he had been standing. He was right in front of her. His hand grabbed Jennica¡¯s arm, yanking her off the ground. Then he disappeared again and appeared next to the fallen Jason. Once more, he vanished, taking both Jennica and Jason with him.


    The next thing the would-be Scion knew, she was out in the parking lot. Jason was next to her. Even as she snapped her gaze that way, the intruder was yanking the gem off her brother. And just like that, the connection to her last enslaved Touched was cut off.


    No, no, no, no, no, no!!! This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go! This was wrong! It was all wrong! She¡¯d prepared for everything, everything! She was supposed to prove herself now, she was supposed to impress Pencil and make him see how much better she was than that stupid Cup! This wasn¡¯t right! It wasn¡¯t fair! It wasn¡¯t--


    The man¡¯s fist collided with her face, and Jennica hit the ground, motionless. No more plotting, no more fighting, no more complaining. She went out like a light.


    Jason, meanwhile, groaned as he slowly came back to himself while lying on the ground. ¡°Ugghhn¡­. wha¡­ what?¡± His eyes widened as the memories flooded in. ¡°Oh god, what--Jenni, she--oh fuck, wh-what did I do?¡±


    ¡°Hey there.¡± Dropping all of his dismissive tone, the stranger¡¯s voice turned soft, as he extended a hand to the boy, helping him up. ¡°Sorry for the rough awakening. And¡­ for not getting here sooner. If it helps, I think you¡¯re just the guy I¡¯ve been looking for.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Jacob, and I have a school I¡¯d like you to see.¡±

 To The Races 32-13

    I had always had fun watching these games back in our home theater. But actually being there, being able to simply lean over that balcony and look down at all the athletes getting ready for their turn? That was so much better than sitting alone at home. I could see everything, could watch the events right in front of me and hear the wild noise of the crowd as the excitement swept over everyone when a competitor did something exciting or daring. I was part of that excitement, part of the audience who roared with appreciation or gasped with nervous fear. Throughout the rest of the afternoon events, I let myself get swept away by all that. I wasn''t thinking about Paintball, or the Ministry, or any of those myriad other bad things that had occupied my thoughts for so long.


    Well, okay, I did have one other thing in my mind beyond watching the competition. Namely, participating in it. I had been down there. I had been right in front of this same audience that I was now a part of. I had actually performed for these same people. It hadn''t really sunk in at the time. And, to be honest, it probably still hadn''t fully. It all just felt like an amazing dream or something, like it had happened to someone else. That couldn''t be me. I couldn¡¯t have been the one performing in front of all those people. It didn''t feel real. Had I imagined it? Was I just making up those memories?


    No, I wasn''t. It was real. And yes, I knew how silly it was for me to be so shocked about simply performing some wild stunts in front of an audience. I was Paintball. I was a Star-Touched, and had been for months. This was just a silly athletic competition and exhibition. It wasn''t important, not like saving people was. And yet, this still felt like a huge thing. It was a huge thing. I had grown up watching these games and being excited by them. Now I was actually here. I was part of both the audience and the competition, and that was a very big deal, no matter how much I tried to tell myself to calm down.


    Honestly, having Dani there with us only helped build my excitement even more. She was clearly just as much of a fan as I was. The two of us kept going off on long, detailed discussions, some enthusiastic agreements and some good-natured arguments about various competitors and past events. She knew just as much as I did, though some of her opinions about those things were obviously complete nonsense. Seriously, how could she or any other person who had actually watched the thing even think that Meyers Bahl could have had the slightest chance in hell of beating Tombstayed in the blade-throwing competition last year? Sure, Bahl had definitely been a totally solid number two, but Tombstayed had utterly blown him away in the final event.


    Yeah, we had a lot of discussions like that. All while doing our best to occasionally explain just enough context to Izzy so she wouldn''t be completely left in the dark about all of it. Which, obviously, prompted its own rather spirited discussions. From the outside, it probably would have looked like we were just arguing, and we sort of were. But it was a fun argument. Dani being as into the events as I was, even with some of her silly, nonsensical opinions about that stuff, was still really cool. It was great to be able to sit there and talk about all these things with someone like that. Especially when we were having these discussions while sitting right there in the arena where the latest one was happening. That was just¡­ I was still giddy about that. There was so much else that I needed to worry about, so many things that still needed to be dealt with. But for now I could set those aside and just enjoy all this.


    Finally, the games were done for the day. Normally the events would go on through the evening, with just a break for dinner, but this was just the exhibition and they were going to give all the competitors the full evening to take a break and come back fresh for the real competitions.


    Well, mostly a break. They--We still needed to come back for pictures and some sort of social gathering thing. Which meant I¡¯d also need to split up from my family around nine, but that probably wouldn¡¯t be a problem. I¡¯d already heard our parents going on about possibly going to watch some lounge performer that Mom remembered having a big thing for when she was a teenager. Which--yup, I really didn¡¯t want to think about any of that, thanks. Anything that had to do with either of my parents having a crush on anyone other than each other could just stay in the void where it belonged. Hell, I didn¡¯t even really want to think too much about them feeling that way about each other, let alone other people. Which I knew was weird, getting ooky feelings about my parents¡¯ romantic lives or emotions when there were much bigger things to worry about when it came to them. But I couldn¡¯t help it. They were my mom and dad.


    Either way, it probably wasn''t going to be hard for me to slip out for a little bit. I really couldn''t see Simon sticking around the hotel suite for very long. Not when he was old enough to gamble around here, and get into several of the clubs. Sure he wasn¡¯t quite twenty-one yet, but there was still plenty he could do. And honestly, I wouldn¡¯t be at all surprised if he had a fake ID that would pass absolutely every possible inspection, including literally checking the official files.


    All of that was stuff to focus on later though. It would be about five hours before I needed to sneak out to be Paintball for a little bit. For the moment, it was dinner time. Mom and Dad insisted that Dani come with us, as soon as she mentioned just stopping at some fast food place or ordering room service. Which was how we all ended up eating together at this delicious steakhouse Dad knew about thanks to some previous visit. Honestly, it felt like they could have charged for the scents alone. Walking inside made my mouth immediately start drooling, even as my stomach made its excitement audibly known. And I wasn¡¯t the only one. Dani made a noise deep in her throat, looking around like she couldn¡¯t believe a place could actually smell that good. It would¡¯ve been funny if I hadn¡¯t had just as much of a reaction. We were both famished.


    ¡°Okay, uh, thanks for showing me this place,¡± Dani was saying, voice polite as she started to step away. ¡°I don¡¯t want to butt into your family dinner, so I¡¯ll just get a single table over there a--¡±


    Mom didn¡¯t let her get any further, speaking up firmly. ¡°Nonsense. I wouldn¡¯t be able to live with myself if we just abandoned you here. Come, Dani, you can eat with the rest of us. We¡¯ll take care of it.¡± Her tone, though polite, made it clear she wasn¡¯t going to accept excuses to leave.


    Coughing, I nudged Dani and softly murmured, ¡°I think you better just go with it. She¡¯s an Italian-heritage mom with her eyes on you now. You¡¯re not going anywhere until she¡¯s satisfied that your stomach won¡¯t even be able to take another single pea in it without just exploding.¡±


    Giving me a bright, overly-cheerful smile while shifting that backpack she carried around everywhere, Dani replied, ¡°Gross. But hey, I guess I shouldn¡¯t complain too much.¡± She looked to my mother to add, ¡°Thanks, Mrs. Evans. It really does smell great. I¡¯ll tell my aunt about this place. She¡¯s been talking about wanting to come here to see if it¡¯s as much fun as Las Vegas.¡±


    With that, we followed the ma?tre d'' through the restaurant to a private dining room in the back. Which meant walking past table after table full of food that was still making my mouth water. Some part of me wondered just how intentional that was. The private room, where only the most wealthy people went, was located in an area that made them walk past all the other food so they would be as hungry as possible and probably order even more than they would have. Sure, it was also because it just made sense to have the private room in the back, but that helped too.


    In any case, before long we were all seated around the table. We ordered appetizers and drinks, which arrived within a couple minutes. Mom cautioned us not to gorge ourselves too much. Then she and Dad turned to their own murmured conversation, and Simon became completely focused on his phone. Which left Dani and I to talk with Izzy about the competition some more. She had some questions about how some of the events worked, and we lost ourselves in all that until the actual meals came. Which--yeah, they smelled even better on a plate right in front of us than they had when we were passing by the other tables. And that was really quite the feat.


    Needless to say, we dug in. In the background, I could see Simon slipping a bit of food into a bag, probably so he could give it to Bailey when we got back to the hotel. It made me smile a little. It was amusing and honestly sweet to think of my brother caring that much about a small animal. Even if it was completely at odds with the way I¡¯d heard him act that first night when I Touched, a thought that made my stomach twist itself around a bit. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    About halfway through the meal, Dani excused herself to visit the restroom. She was gone for a couple minutes before I felt the call as well and did the same. Izzy was still valiantly attempting to finish the giant mound of mashed potatoes and gravy they¡¯d brought her, and murmured a distracted acknowledgement while I stood up and made my way out of the room. Mom and Dad were talking about some sort of tax rules thing or whatever. Maybe they were speaking in code. It honestly could¡¯ve been complete gibberish and I wouldn¡¯t have known the difference. As I was stepping out, my mother glanced up just long enough to remind me to wash my hands properly.


    Lost in my own thoughts, I headed through the restaurant. But about halfway to the restroom, I caught a glimpse of Dani out of the corner of my eye. She was on the other side of the restaurant, near the kitchens. What was she--uh, she was giving money to one of the waiters. Was she just trying to pay for her own meal after all or something? I couldn¡¯t tell what that was--


    Then things got a little more confusing. The guy handed her what looked like a couple ziplock baggies. One was filled with scraps of meat, while the other had a bunch of fruits and vegetables in it. Was--ohhh she had rats, didn¡¯t she? I was pretty sure I remembered something about Dani having pet rats. Maybe they were back in her hotel room and she was--okay, yeah, confusion over. She¡¯d probably brought her pet rats with her and now she had just paid the waiter to take some of the kitchen scraps back with her so they could have a treat too. Just like Simon putting some of his own food away for Bailey, only she was showing even more initiative about it.


    Dani turned then, and our eyes met. I felt weirdly embarrassed, like I had been caught spying. But I pushed that aside and simply walked that way with a shrug. There was no sense in hiding it. ¡°Hey, I guess your rats need to be fed too, huh? I didn¡¯t even think about the fact that you must¡¯ve brought them, but you said your aunt doesn¡¯t really spend much time at home anyway.¡±


    The other girl blinked once before flushing slightly with a quick nod. ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t trust any of her neighbors to actually come by to feed them. They aren¡¯t exactly the types to enjoy interacting with rats. And--well, your parents have been so cool about this already. Please don¡¯t say anything to them about this. I kind of want to take care of my little guys myself, and I¡¯m afraid your mom will insist on paying for all this too.¡± She held up the baggies full of food and shook them a bit.


    Promising her that it would stay just between us, I asked the other girl a bit about those rats of hers while the two of us actually headed for the restroom together. She had three, apparently, named Demon, Angel, and Marvin. I wasn''t sure how that last one fit the theme, but maybe that was the joke.


    Either way, they sounded really cool, and she promised to let me visit them soon. Apparently Amber had already seen them and thought Marvin was the smartest of the trio.


    We were just finishing up in the restroom when I got a text on my Touched-business phone from the event coordinators. I''d sent a message to that Devon guy earlier letting him know they could find me at this number. The text was basically just a confirmation that I needed to be back there for photographs as near to nine as I could manage, but they understood if delays had to happen. It was just one of those things you had to deal with when it came to dealing with people who had secret identities. They gave me a room number and directions of how to get there in the arena.


    Dani, standing by the door, raised an eyebrow. ¡°You have a secret boyfriend you don''t want your family to know about? Or a girlfriend? I''m hardly one to judge.¡± When I blinked at her uncertainly, she nodded to the phone. ¡°That''s not the same one you were using earlier. I mean, it looks similar but, but it''s definitely a different model. Yours is an actual contract phone, and that''s the kind you''d buy in a shop and just add minutes to.¡±


    Well fuck. Since when did she get to be so perceptive? Feeling a slight blush cross my face while I was trying to decide how to respond, I had to think quickly. How the hell was I supposed to explain why I had a second phone? Why did I even pull it out right then? What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I feel so comfortable with the other girl being there that I hadn''t even thought about it? I barely knew anything about her at all. God, that had been so very stupid.


    Fortunately, one bright side, if you could call it that, to having been through all this over the past few months was that I had gotten pretty good at thinking on my feet. And equally good at lying and at the drop of a hat. I had to be, or my parents would have found out the truth a long time ago. I had experience making up excuses very quickly without being too obvious about it.


    So, as a million different thoughts went rushing wildly through my head, I kept my face as clear and my voice as even as possible. ¡°Yeah, sorry, I''ve got a few friends back home who aren''t exactly on the approved social list as far as my parents are concerned. Don''t get me wrong, they''re really cool about everything, but it''s just easier if they don''t see certain names come up in the phone bill if they happen to glance at it. Mom thinks they might be a bad influence on me.¡± I gave a snort. ¡°Don''t tell her it''s the other way around. I''m definitely the worse influence.¡±


    Dani offered me a thumbs up. ¡°Hey, you''re keeping my secret about the food, I guess I can keep yours about your extra phone.¡± Raising a hand, she offered her fist to me for a bump.


    With that, the two of us headed back to the private dining room before anyone could send a search party looking for us. I still felt anxious about that whole situation, and silently berated myself through the rest of dinner about how stupid and careless I''d been with the phone.


    In the end, having Dani around helped for something else as well. Once dinner was over, I agreed to go back to her hotel for a while to see her rats. Simon would be heading back to ours with Izzy, who promised she''d be completely fine hanging out on her own for a little bit while Simon did his thing and our parents went out for a date night. All I had to do was hang out with Dani and her pets, then I would simply head over to the arena for pictures. That was an easy way to handle it. And, as a bonus, I would get the chance to see those rats to find out if Amber was right about Marvin being the smart one. Not to mention getting to see how they reacted to getting fed stuff from a restaurant as good as the one we had just left.


    Her hotel was just down the street from ours, not quite as glamorous or anything, but it definitely wasn''t a shady, rundown place either. She took me inside her room, which actually was only a single room, aside from the bathroom in the back. It was much smaller than I was accustomed to dealing with, though probably still about twice the size of the average hotel room that most people used.


    The two of us had barely entered before I heard loud squeaking. Sure enough, there was a large cage in the corner of the room where her three rats were all kept. They had a couple exercise wheels, other toys, bowls of food and water, and this whole intricate pipe system allowing them to move from the cage they ran to a couple other, smaller ones spaced out to either side. They definitely weren''t suffering, that much was clear.


    Dani went to the bathroom for a minute, leaving me with the rats. I introduced myself, playing with them a little bit. Then she came back, took the rats out, and I really got to know them. Amber was definitely right, Marvin was the smart one. Demon was daring and a bit of a pig, and Angel was very shy.


    We played with the rats for awhile, and I was just telling myself that this was going to be an easy way to spend the next hour or so when we were interrupted by the sound of glass breaking. We both jerked around, staring in the direction of the bathroom where the sound had come from. Dani froze like that for a second, then bolted to her feet and ran that way.


    I was right behind her, coming right into the bathroom doorway just in time to hear her scream. It sounded like someone had ripped her soul out, anguished and terrifying. The window was broken. It looked like someone had smashed it in from the outside. Dani ran to it, stepping into the tub and staring out with another cry. She shouted at someone, something about her backpack. Wait, she had the backpack on when she came into the bathroom, and came out without it. Had she left it in here and then someone smashed the window to take it?


    Before I knew what she was doing, Dani started to climb out the window. I quickly ran that way to catch her arm. ¡°Hey, we¡¯ll get your bag back, I--¡±


    She spun, giving me a hard shove that knocked me back against the sink. Her eyes were wild. ¡°Get the fuck away from me! They''re not going anywhere! I''m not waiting for the fucking cops!¡±


    My mouth opened, but I couldn''t even make a sound before she did something I never could have expected. Reaching into the pocket of her baggy shorts, she took out a small, familiar animal that definitely wasn''t a rat. It was a skink.


    ¡°Holiday!¡± she snapped, while the shock rocked my head backwards. ¡°Let''s go!¡±


    And just like that, the tiny lizard grew into the reptilian panther form that I was so familiar with and leapt through the window to chase the thief. Dani was already heading after her with a distracted, ¡°Evans, I swear I''ll explain later.¡± Then she disappeared through the hole, leaving me standing there in shock, staring at that broken window.


    Dani and Holiday had just made it to the end of the next block and were clearly examining the front of an alley there when I dropped out of the sky to land next to them.


    ¡°Wha--¡± Dani jumped, spinning my way before stopping short. ¡°Paintball?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied before reaching up to take off the helmet that I had thrown on along with my suit in those few seconds I''d been left alone in that bathroom. I took it off, letting her see my face.


    ¡°Turns out, maybe we both need to explain some things. But right now, let''s find your lizards.¡±

 To The Races 32-14

    I wasn''t sure anything could have distracted Dani-- or Pack as I had known her for so long, from chasing after her stolen lizards for even a second. But seeing me stand there with my face exposed, my identity revealed, at least made her stop very momentarily. She stared with an open mouth. On the other hand, next to her, Holiday honestly looked like she wasn¡¯t surprised at all. She just looked at me, then back at Dani, flicking her tongue out a couple times curiously as though wondering what the big deal was.


    Keeping my voice as even as I could given the shock that was still running through me from the revelation of Dani''s identity, I gestured toward the alley. ¡°Is this the way they went?¡± We could address everything else later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was finding those missing lizards, and I wasn''t going to let anything get in the way of that. I sure as hell hadn''t been about to let my keeping secret identity get in the way after Dani had revealed her own. Sure, I could have just let her think I happened to see her down there with Holiday, but¡­ but something about this situation, something about her revealing herself to me in her panic, had told me it was now or never. If I didn¡¯t let her see who I really was right then, I never would. It was the right thing to do.


    In any case, yes, this was a really huge deal, and having someone else who knew who I was made part of me scream in the background. But I didn''t care. None of it mattered compared to finding those lizards.


    Dani snapped out of it, reaching into her own pocket to take out her black, featureless mask. Soon, it was pulled on, even as she started walking that way. ¡°Holiday says this is where the scent leads. They definitely ran through this place, we just need to figure out where they went from there. And when I find them, I am going to break every bone in their fucking body.¡± Her voice was a dark snarl, which was matched by Holiday as the lizard-cat moved ahead of her.


    Taking a deep breath, I fixed my own mask before putting the helmet back in place. Then I followed, looking around the narrow alley as we moved. There were several doors and a chain-link fence at the other end that looked climbable. ¡°You don''t think they knew what they were grabbing, do you?¡± That would imply a much bigger problem than this already was.


    Dani shook her head at that. ¡°No, I think some stupid piece of shit just looked through the window and thought there might be some money in a rich tourist¡¯s bag that they could smash and grab.¡± With that, she tried one of the doors, but it didn''t even budge. It was very firmly locked. ¡°And they''re about to find out what a really stupid fucking mistake they just made.¡±


    Before she could say anything else, I took a step that way and gestured for her to wait. Then I stood very still in front of the doorway before sinking into a puddle. I heard the other girl gasp softly, along with a cute and confused squeaking noise from Holiday. Then I was in my liquid form, and slid myself under the narrow crack. I carefully reformed there, looking around from a crouched position. Nothing. This looked like a storeroom in the back of some clothing store. There was no one there, and it was all dark. I was pretty sure our thief hadn''t gone this way.


    I exited the same way I got in, before explaining that much to Dani. Then I quickly added, ¡°You don''t think they''ll just drop the bag when they find out there''s only lizards in there, do you?¡±


    Her head shook. ¡°They won''t find that out, not without a lot more time and help. It looks like a normal bag, but if you''re not me, you can''t open it without a hell of a lot more effort and tools than some random opportunistic bastard happens to be carrying in their fucking pockets.¡±


    There was good and bad to that. The good part was that they hopefully wouldn''t be able to get to the lizards before we found them. The bad part was that it would convince them that whatever was in the bag was valuable and worth actually breaking through it to get.


    With that in mind, realizing we needed to hurry even more, I checked the other couple doors scattered through the alley. Meanwhile, Dani and Holiday went to the fence at the back and checked for the trail. Unfortunately, I didn''t have any luck. It seems like there was no one in any of these buildings right then. It was quiet here, though we could hear lots of excitement going on just around the corner where the casinos were. Things were just starting to pick up for the evening. Hopefully, that would mean we had the privacy we needed over here to deal with this thief without interruptions. But first, we had to find the fucking person, and that was proving to be easier said than done. At the very least, they weren''t anywhere in this alley anymore.


    To my relief, as soon as I came out of that last building, Dani called out to me from the other side of the fence that she had just climbed over. ¡°Come on, they went this way. Holiday found something.¡± Without another word, she immediately pivoted and jogged off after her companion, who seemed just as anxious to find the rest of her siblings as Dani herself was.


    I started to use a bit of blue paint to hop over the fence, before catching myself. Instead, I made myself liquid and just stepped through. It was a funky feeling, but I didn¡¯t have time to dwell on that. We had the trail again.


    Sure enough, Holliday had her nose to the ground and was clearly following some sort of scent through the narrow maze between several other buildings. There was a small parking lot next to a loading dock of some sort, and she paused there, looking around for a brief moment before hopping up on the cement area right by the rolling door where the delivery trucks would back up to unload.


    Dani climbed up there as well, and was about to rear back and kick the metal door when I hurriedly hit the thing with a shot of black paint just as she did so. ¡°Hey, we¡¯ll get the lizards back, I promise. But let''s not go announcing to the entire world that we''re here. We don''t know how many are in there, or what they might have with them. Maybe it''s just the one person and this is their hidey hole. Or maybe it''s something more. Either way, let''s check it out first.¡± I pointed up to the roof. ¡°Let''s figure out just how many asses we have to kick before jumping in to start swinging.¡±


    As freaked out and pissed off as she was, Dani still knew I was right. She trembled a little before jumping down and rejoining me. I, in turn, painted both her and Holiday red, sending them up to the roof, where they scrambled over the edge and disappeared for a second.


    With one more glance around to make sure no one was looking, I used my rainbow paint on a bit of raised brick sticking up from the roof and teleported right up there. And yes, that was something I still wasn''t even close to being accustomed to. My new powers were¡­ a lot.


    As my liquid body reformed back into myself, Dani whispered from right next to me, ¡°Boy, I guess you''re just full of all sorts of tricks, aren''t you?¡± There was more to her voice, making it obvious that she wanted to talk about all of it. But later, after we saved her little friends. I was pretty sure that it was only the fact that the lizards were missing that was stopping her from pinning me down and blurting dozens of questions. Which was fair, given I had a bunch of my own that I wanted to ask the other girl. When this was over, we were going to be busy talking about all of it for a long time. Probably for the rest of this trip off and on, to be perfectly honest.


    But for now, the lizards had priority. We needed to get in there, figure out what was going on, and get them back. Some part of me almost felt sorry for the poor piece of shit who had thought that grabbing that bag would be a good idea. But no, fuck them. They were about to get exactly what they deserved. Though maybe I wouldn''t let Dani break every bone they had.


    The three of us crept across the roof to find the skylight there. It was small, not even close to being big enough for a person to go through, and had a metal grill across it. But we were able to crouch there and peer through it into the building below. And this one definitely wasn''t just an empty shop. We could see several old recliners and couches surrounding a television that was blaring some sort of gameshow. There were people lounging around, loudly arguing with each other about one of the trivia questions that had just been asked on that show. To one side were a few tables full of what looked like stolen merchandise from tourists, including a bunch of wallets and fanny packs. One guy in a dirty raincoat was standing at the end of the last table with Dani''s bag in front of him. He was grumbling to himself while trying to shake the zipper. With a muttered curse, he tried to cut into it with a knife, but couldn''t break through. Which, of course, annoyed him more.


    Beside me, Dani made a noise as though she was about to smash through the grate with her bare hands, find a way to get down there, and rip his head right off without so much as a single warning. But I put a hand on her shoulder, looked that way, and whispered that I had an idea. It was going to be okay. I kept my voice calm and quiet, promising her that she would get her lizards back in just a second. She gave a sharp exhale before muttering an agreement.


    Before she could change her mind or get too anxious to wait any longer, I took a moment to prepare the area back down in the parking lot, in case this went sideways. Once things were ready, I focused on the view through the skylight once more. The best way to do this and get the bag away from them without any risk to the lizards was a distraction. And I knew just how to do that with a paint combination that I had figured out while practicing with Izzy a couple days earlier. So, I carefully slipped my fingers between the grate, watched to make sure no one was looking, and then sent a red-black shot as far into the back corner of the room below as I could. The whole space looked like it was supposed to be a display floor for furniture or something, and I sent my paint clear back near what appeared to be the entrance to some restrooms. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    With that done, and no one noticing so far, I hit Dani with a matching bit of paint before nodding for her to go ahead. And go ahead she did, abruptly raising her voice to shout, ¡°Hey you stupid fucks! What the hell do you think you''re doing!?¡± She put all her anger in that shout, immediately drawing the attention of everyone down there. Except the red-black paint combination I had used actually took her voice from where she physically was and moved it to that spot down by the restrooms.


    Immediately, everyone down there was on their feet. Guns were drawn, and they raced that way, ready to deal with whoever had barged in to shout at them. I was honestly surprised no one fired a shot in the sudden panic. Maybe they were more disciplined than it looked, which was another reason why not just jumping down there had been the right move.


    While their backs were turned, I grabbed the metal grate that I had already painted pink and ripped it out silently. Then I pointed, using a shot of red on the backpack that our thief had dropped in his rush to join the others. I felt Dani grab my arm and squeeze tightly just as I activated the paint on my glove and brought the bag flying up through the air. Her grip on me got painfully tight until I caught the thing, pulled it out, and handed it to her. Even then, I didn''t dare breathe until she unzipped the bag, looked inside and made a small noise of relief. The next thing I knew, she was hugging me tightly. Her grip was even stronger than it had been on my arm. She was practically crushing the air out of me in that moment. But I didn''t care. Her lizards were safe and she had them back. That was the only thing that mattered right then.


    Of course, the second I had that thought, something caught my eye. I shifted just enough to see one of those guys in the room below. He was facing us, looking up and pointing some sort of complicated gun our way. I had just enough time to push myself in front of the other girl and activate an orange bird shape on my back before he fired. A blast of concussive force shattered the skylight and the bricks around it before slamming into me. Both of us were sent flying into the air and off the roof. Even in my daze, however, I managed to flip around, hitting Dani with yellow paint to slow her descent before turning myself liquid so that rough landing simply made me sploosh out across the parking lot.


    Dani landed nimbly next to a dumpster in a corner, still holding the bag in one hand while Holiday growled and leapt from the roof to join her. Her gaze snapped my way as I literally pulled myself back together, reforming from a scattered puddle to my physical self once more.


    By that point, the sliding door of the shop had been violently shoved upward, and we had well over a dozen heavily armed thugs jumping out into the parking lot to join us. And they didn''t look at all happy about our presence. I felt like telling them that we had simply been getting our property back probably wouldn''t go over that well. They didn''t seem like the types to respect that sort of thing.


    Sure enough, one of the men, a tall white guy with a blond goatee and shaved head, stepped forward with a low whistle. ¡°Boy, if I didn''t know any better, I''d say we''ve got a couple strangers from out of town who think they can try to fuck with our territory and steal what belongs to us. Ain¡¯t that some rude shit for guests in our city to pull?¡± His words were met with muttered curses from the assembled group, who were still pointing those fancy weapons at us. And honestly, after taking a single hit from one of them, I wasn''t eager to be hit by a bunch all at once. Especially considering some of them looked even fancier than that concussive gun. There were what looked like at least a few lasers involved, and I wasn''t sure how even my liquid form would deal with that. This was dangerous. Dani didn''t even have any of her lizards out and ready except for Holiday. I was going to have to buy her time if this went as badly as it looked like it was going to.


    So, the first thing I did was focus on getting as much attention on me as possible. Which started with both hands behind my back, since raising them tended to make people more anxious than not these days with all the different powers that could be projected that way. Mine being one good example. Keeping your hands out of sight and away from people did a lot more to keep things calm than raising them did. Once that was done, I spoke up. ¡°Well hey, we all seem to have had just a slight misunderstanding. I mean, it''s clear that you people are running some sort of a very useful service, finding tourist¡¯s lost items and returning them to their proper owners. Seriously, hearts of gold, you lot. You''re doing some fine work, and I can''t wait to hear about how every single item in that place was given back to its owner. Really, it just fills me with a nice warm fuzzy feeling. But see, it turns out one of your people got just a little too eager to help and accidentally picked up an item before it was actually lost. Took it right out of a hotel room belonging to one of our friends. She was holding something important for us, and we needed it back. Time was of the essence. We couldn¡¯t really wait to go to the lost and found, where I¡¯m sure you would have returned it soon enough, along with everything else in there, being the upstanding, model citizens you all are.¡±


    Once I got all that out, there were several mutters from the group arranged in a semicircle around us. A few seemed a little amused, though others were rolling their eyes and sounded annoyed. But none of them made a move to actually shoot, not yet anyway. They were clearly waiting to see what the bald guy with the goatee said. Either he was the leader of the whole gang, or at the very least, he was in charge right now. Whatever it was, he seemed to consider what I was saying, before simply asking in a voice that was equally amused and vaguely threatening, ¡°And what if we don¡¯t believe that¡¯s actually your stuff? Maybe you should wait for it to appear in the--ahh--lost and found so you can go through the proper channels to get it back. What with being so interested in following the rules and all like you types are.¡±


    Making a tutting sound, I shook my head. ¡°Oooh like I said, we can¡¯t really wait that long. I guess that means we just--¡± Pausing, I made a noise of realization. ¡°Oh. Well there we go, I know just how to handle this. See, you¡¯re clearly concerned about going through the proper channels, which is just so admirable. But we can see you¡¯re very busy. Too busy to go straight to the lost and found right now to get the ball rolling. So tell you what. If you¡¯re sure that it¡¯s a bad idea for us to just take this single bag right now, that we absolutely have to take it back to the authorities so they can make sure it¡¯s ours, we¡¯ll just do you a favor. We¡¯ll take everything in that room while we¡¯re at it. You know, since we¡¯ll be going to the authorities to get our own bag checked anyway. It¡¯ll just spare you the time and effort, a win-win for everyone.¡± My chin rose, voice dropping a bit. ¡°Or we can just take this single bag and walk away. You know, if you think that¡¯s for the best.¡±


    It was beyond obvious that these people weren¡¯t accustomed to dealing with me, and that they¡¯d barely heard anything about me at all. I had heard a couple of them mutter the name Paintball, so they at least knew who I was. But the fact that they allowed me to stand there and talk that whole time proved they really hadn¡¯t done their homework. They thought that as long as they were surrounding me with guns, and my hands weren¡¯t pointed at them, that they had the advantage.


    The fact that they still thought that was proven a moment later as the guy in charge took a step forward. The lightness had left his tone. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what, after we beat both of you bloody, we¡¯ll dump your bodies into the lost and found and see who actually wants to come and claim y---¡±


    That was as far as he managed to get with that spiel before his forward pace brought him in range of the green-blue mark I¡¯d left on the pavement. It was one of a dozen different bits of paint I¡¯d put into place before we¡¯d even grabbed the bag, back when I¡¯d taken a moment to make sure we were ready. I¡¯d figured this might devolve into a fight, so I made sure the probable battlefield was prepped.


    The second the guy stepped on what I¡¯d disguised as a bit of random green-blue graffiti, I triggered it. With a startled curse-squeal, he was launched into the sky, flailing wildly.


    In the same instant, a dozen different random bits of debris and trash that I had marked with red paint went flying through the air toward other red markings I¡¯d matched them with. The gang members were suddenly pelted from all sides. And several of the people arranged around us squealed while they fell partway through the ground, thanks to the black-pink spots they had been standing on.


    Oh yeah, and then there was the blinding flash from the green-white markings I¡¯d left all around that side of the parking lot. Dani and I (and Holiday) had closed our eyes the instant all this started going off. But our new ¡®friends¡¯ didn¡¯t know any better. They were suddenly blinded in addition to being pelted with garbage, abandoned by the leader who was flung skyhigh, and had about a third of their number dropped halfway through the pavement.


    Needless to say, it was a bad start for them. But it got even worse a second later, as Dani revealed what she had been doing. Twinkletoes, the invisible gorilla-lizard, had been grown to full size behind that dumpster before sneaking around to where two of the men with the biggest weapons were. Before they knew what was happening, he hoisted them up and threw both of them into the wall.


    As for the dumpster itself, Mars Bar had been grown to full size behind it as well. He rose with a roar, lashing out to hit the dumpster and send it flying over to crash into a couple more of the guys. That was followed immediately by the one nearest them who didn¡¯t get hit by it being set upon by Tuesday the lizard-capuchin monkey leaping out of the dumpster to claw and rip at his face. His tail snatched the gun away and flung it safely into the corner.


    It was a good start. But these guys weren¡¯t done yet. Which was made even more clear as running footsteps and shouts announced the arrival of several more who hadn¡¯t even been there from the start. We still had work to do. And from the sound of things this wasn¡¯t going to be over anytime soon.


    Well shit, so much for that whole vacation thing.

 To The Races 32-15

    I hadn¡¯t been completely unprepared for reinforcements to show up. Something had told me that there might be more of these guys¡¯ friends out in the surrounding neighborhood. After all, it definitely wasn¡¯t my luck to just happen to confront this gang while every last one of them just happened to be right there in a convenient group. I¡¯d expected that about as much as I had expected¡­ well, as much as I had expected us to actually get out of this whole situation without a real confrontation.


    So, when the sound of running footsteps and shouts announced the imminent arrival of several more of these people, I looked toward the alley they were arriving through. That quick glance let me activate the green-blue paint I¡¯d left along the ground, followed quickly by the red paint I¡¯d covered several more trash cans, an old wooden pallet, and a couple other bits and pieces with. Immediately, the air was filled with startled curses and cries as a handful of the new arrivals were launched upward, flailing and dropping their weapons. Others were struck by the random objects I¡¯d painted and either fell to the ground or spun to frantically scan for an unseen attacker.


    One guy actually made it all the way through the alley, racing right into view with his shotgun raised. Or at least, he came into view for a second. Then he stepped on the black-pink circle I¡¯d left there and instantly fell halfway into the ground, just like several of the other guys in this little parking lot area already had. Unlike them, however, he actually managed to hold onto his gun and took aim with it. Which lasted just long enough for me to hit the barrel of the thing with red paint to yank it away.


    ¡°Dude!¡± I blurted reflexively while chucking the gun up to the roof, ¡°you must be like, the honor student, curve-wrecking, teacher¡¯s pet member of the gang! Make it all the way through an alley while your buddies are being flung around like bowling pins, fall halfway through solid ground, see a giant fuck-off lizard-grizzly playing bongos with your other buddies, and you still keep your eye on the ball and try to shoot us? Whatever your boss is paying you, it¡¯s definitely not enough. You need to ask for a raise.¡±


    ¡°He gets by.¡± That dry response wasn¡¯t from me, or Pack (Dani, my distracted brain reminded me), or anyone else I¡¯d been aware of. Instead, it came from the nearby wall, where a figure had been completely silently running along it. I only noticed them belatedly when they spoke up, just before launching themself off the wall. They flipped over in the air, leg extended before it slammed into my side. The impact was much more than it should have been, enough to send me rocketing across the parking lot. I barely had time to activate a couple orange circles along my shoulders before crashing hard into the overturned dumpster there, where Mars Bar had flung it. Bouncing off the metal side, I rolled out of the way along the pavement instinctively. Which turned out to be the right move, as my attacker bounced inhumanly quickly off the ground, went back into the air, and then came down with their knee right where my stomach had been just a second earlier. Before they could recover, I snapped my leg out to kick theirs right out from under them.


    They fell backward, but managed to flip over, catch themself on their hands, and then push off that way into a flip that allowed them to land rightside up in a sort of half-crouch to face me as I was scrambling back to my feet as well. Which gave me my first real chance to get a good look at the person who had come out of nowhere and kicked me across the parking lot. And yes, ow.


    The person was female, that much was clear. My guess was that she was maybe three years older than me. She wore a sleek, dark red bodysuit with black swirl patterns that showed off rather generous curves. A gold sash was tied around her waist and hung longer down her left hip. A cloth mask covered most of her face, leaving only her short, spiky black hair exposed. The whole thing was clearly meant to be distracting. Especially considering the way she held herself even then. Everything she did, the way she moved, stood, her clothing, it was all carefully calculated to draw attention and make people stare. Probably right up until she jumped over and kicked them across the fucking parking lot. Yeah, I definitely wasn¡¯t going to forget that anytime soon.


    After taking all that in, I found my voice. ¡°Lemme guess, you''re the gang¡¯s tax accountant and you''re really pissed about all the unapproved deductions they''ve been taking so you decided to take it out on anyone who gets in your way.¡± I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, honestly. But talking, even if it was basically nonsense, gave me a second to put a few more spots of paint on my suit. Not to mention the opportunity to actually catch my breath a little bit. Given the sounds going on in the background, Pack and her lizards were still fighting, but I didn¡¯t dare take my eyes off this woman long enough to check on them. Not considering how quickly she was obviously able to move. If I gave her any sort of opening, she¡¯d be on me in an instant.


    Hang on, wait a minute. Come to think of it, maybe that wouldn¡¯t actually be such a bad thing. And no, I didn¡¯t have that thought just because of how well she was wearing that tight bodysuit.


    ¡°Mmm, sorry, I pay someone else to do the taxes,¡± she informed me even as that thought jumped into my head. ¡°Leaves more time for me to have fun, if you know what I mean.¡±


    ¡°Did you actually, literally just say, ¡®if you know what I mean?¡¯¡± I demanded in disbelief before making a disapproving tutting noise. ¡°If there isn¡¯t already a law against that, there oughta be.¡± My head cocked to the side, glancing back toward the spot where Pack and her lizards had the other guys pretty well in hand. ¡°Though to be fair, I guess you wouldn¡¯t really care about any--¡±


    And that was when she took the bait. It was about time, given I was starting to think I was going to have to actually turn around and put my back to her completely before she¡¯d jump at me. Once I looked over toward Pack, the woman launched herself my way, leaping up and spinning into a kick that was designed to take me right in the stomach. Except when her foot should have collided with me and put me on the ground, it went right through. She launched herself up and through my entire liquid-paint body. The startled yelp that escaped the woman as she passed completely through me and out the other side was probably fairly understandable, under the circumstances.


    After flying through me, she actually managed to recover pretty quickly, landing on one foot before spinning back my way. But that was when she was met with another surprise: herself. When she passed through me, I shifted to look like her. Now, as the woman pivoted back to face me before stopping short in brief confusion, I offered a shrug. ¡°Tell me the truth, do I pull it off?¡±


    ¡°Not in the least,¡± she informed me before her hand snapped out. I caught a brief glimpse of something on her wrist glowing, before a blast of concussive force slammed into my arm and literally blew it off at the shoulder. Sure, it was a liquid arm and the droplets just sort of briefly burst out in every direction like a water balloon popping before snapping back into place, but still.


    The next thing I knew, she hit my other arm with a second blast to make that blow apart, before lunging to put herself right in front of--no over me. She leapt up and over, foot lashing out on her way to go through my face. But her boot glowed in the process, and right when she made contact there was another burst of concussive force that made my head burst for a second before I managed to focus enough to make it come back. And yes, that was still a really awkward feeling. When my head burst like that, it made my vision go wild, since I was seeing out of every little droplet at once, in every direction. Which at least gave me a good enough view to see the figure land behind me before whipping around to take another shot at my shoulder. At the last instant, I managed to twist away so the concentrated wave of force shot right past me.


    This obviously wasn¡¯t going to stop. Whether it was some sort of Touched-Tech on her costume, or part of her power, this girl kept hitting me with repeated concussive bursts. But I did figure out what she was doing. She¡¯d hit my arm with that blast just to make sure it wasn¡¯t lethal or permanent to me, and now she was trying to hit me repeatedly, enough to break me apart so it would take longer for me to pull myself together. I wasn¡¯t even sure if that would work, but I definitely didn¡¯t want to find out. Especially not like this. It was not what Paige would¡¯ve called a controlled experimental situation.


    Fortunately, I didn¡¯t have to just stand there and take it. With a thought, even as I was dodging that last shot, my body was already shifting back to my normal shape. Well, my normal shape turned completely green. I was still liquid, but suddenly, I was three times faster than I should¡¯ve been. Fast enough to twist around and throw myself that way while she was still adjusting her aim after that miss. I didn¡¯t give her the chance to finish correcting before my own fist collided with her face. Which, yes I was liquid at the time, but she still felt it. And she felt the follow-up punch even more, since I shifted my body from green to purple. Being smacked with liquid didn¡¯t exactly feel like nothing, especially when that liquid was hitting you really fast or really hard. Just ask any person who ever happened to jump off a three-story roof and into a swimming pool.


    It might¡¯ve hurt her, but it didn¡¯t put her down. She was already snapping her foot up to kick through me. But I made my paint-self orange. Which didn¡¯t just make me not liquid, it kind of did the opposite and made my entire body as hard as a stone statue. Her foot, even with that concussive burst thing she had going on, rebounded off me as she gave a startled curse.


    That gave me the opening I wanted, which I used by--well by headbutting her in the chin with my orange self. She had been nice enough to at least make sure her attack wouldn¡¯t kill me, so I didn¡¯t hit her quite as hard as I could have. But still enough to make her cry out even louder than before and recoil. Now she had a sharp pain in both her foot and her face. All I had to do was--


    Uh, get kicked again, apparently. No sooner had some part of my brain started to point out that her yelp of pain didn¡¯t sound quite right, than she abruptly did just that. Her foot collided with me. Only that time, even though I was still orange, I was lifted off my feet and sent flying. It was just like when she had jumped off the wall and jump-kicked me. The impact she hit me with was much greater than it should¡¯ve been. I was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t just super strength, but something else. She was magnifying impact force or something. But whatever it was, the blow launched me a good thirty feet before I hit the brick wall with enough force to crack both it and me. Eesh, apparently I¡¯d annoyed her a bit.


    Well, she was going to be even more annoyed soon enough. I caught a brief glimpse of her form flying toward me as she hurled herself clear across the lot in a single jump, moving much further and much faster than she should¡¯ve been able to. But just before she would have slammed into me, I turned myself red and flung both hands out to hurl globs of¡­ well, myself both at the incoming woman and past her. She was basically inches from slamming into me, already glowing with that concussive energy to blow apart my liquid form, when I activated that paint. Instantly, she was snapped backward, flipped around, and flung to the ground with a yelp.


    Unfortunately, before I could congratulate myself on that, or do much of anything at all, another new voice bellowed, ¡°Oy!¡± The next thing I knew, an enormous hand came down, grabbed me (the fingers basically covered my entire body), and flung me out of the way. Yet again, I was flying through the air, though this time I managed to invert myself mid-flight and use red paint to yank myself down to the ground. Which gave me a chance to see what turned out to be a giant guy who seemed to be made out of bricks, asphalt, random pieces of a few cars, and even a fire hydrant. The whole humanoid figure was about seventeen feet tall, I could barely make out a human face set in one of the eyes, protected behind a couple layers of windshield glass. There was a black guy in there, using layers and layers of junk as a sort of mech suit or something. He was also very angry with me, taking a quick step forward before pointing with one of those giant hands. ¡°Hands off the babe, ya little shitcunt! Or Ah¡¯ll see just how well a Paintball can splattah.¡± He sounded very Australian. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Pack, by that point, had moved up beside me, reaching down to help pull me back to my feet. She had Tuesday perched across her shoulders, while Holiday prowled in front of her. Mars Bar was just a bit to the side, growling low. I wasn¡¯t sure where Twinkletoes was. ¡°I¡¯ve got a better idea,¡± she called up to the man. ¡°How about you take your babe, and the rest of these guys, accept the L, and walk away? We don¡¯t have to do this, we don¡¯t want to do this. This ain¡¯t my job. Your people stole something they shouldn¡¯t have, and now it¡¯s over. Fuck off and get out of here while you still can. I¡¯m not exactly eager to play superhero and help throw your asses to the Shields.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m supposed to be on vacation,¡± I pointed out, giving a sharp look toward the scattered gang members who were doing their best to look as unthreatening and innocent as possible right then. ¡°Get your people up, walk away, and we¡¯ll just call this whole thing a draw. You get to leave.¡±


    I may have been able to say the words as though I was confident and assured, but the truth was that I was breathing heavily. I hadn¡¯t expected to get into a fight at all tonight, and after the shock of finding out about Dani, then having to reveal myself to her coupled with the emotional turmoil of her lizards being taken¡­ it was a lot. To be thrown straight from that to a fight with one Fell-Touched who was able to blow my liquid-form apart repeatedly (which itself seemed to be pretty taxing on my body), and now another one in a giant brick and metal mech suit? To say nothing of who or what else might show up as this went on. I just needed this to be over. I really needed them to accept the truce.


    From the annoyed sound the woman made, she definitely didn¡¯t like that suggestion. Not one bit. Neither did the big guy, given the way he made his giant hands close into fists. But I didn¡¯t really care what they liked. I just wanted to be done with this so Pack and I could get out of here. So Dani and I could get out of here. That little detail was what I wanted to focus on. Dani was Pack. I¡¯d known her for--yeah. We needed to talk about everything, not spend all our time fighting these assholes in a completely different city. I just wanted all of them to go away.


    Instead, the armored giant snapped, ¡°And what exactly are you fuckwits gonna do if we don¡¯t? This ¡®ere¡¯s our place, you don¡¯t belong.¡±


    Dani, for her part, gave a low, dangerous chuckle. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve been trying to play nice for the benefit of the Star over there. But if you don¡¯t walk away, I¡¯ll just have to knock you down to size.¡±


    That made the giant-man laugh. ¡°Oh you will, huh? I don¡¯t think your teddy bear over there can do the job.¡±


    Dani didn¡¯t blink, simply shrugging. ¡°If you make me, I¡¯ll just have to use my secret weapon.¡±


    ¡°The gorilla?¡± That was the woman, who had put herself near the big guy¡¯s left foot, eyes darting back and forth. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have what it takes either, believe me. My buddy here can stop a truck.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Dani replied without missing a beat, ¡°I kinda thought I¡¯d just hit him with my elephant.¡±


    That was apparently a cue, because something came tearing out of the building where these guys had been holed up. It ripped right through the remains of the metal rolling door, stampeded past me, and slammed into the giant mech-suited guy so hard he fell sideways into the other building nearby, losing several bits of his junk armor in the process. His violent, surprised cursing filled the air as he flailed, broke several windows of that building, and finally had to slump down into an awkward sitting position. His cursing was cut off by a loud trumpeting sound.


    Uh, yeah, it was an elephant. A lizard-elephant, which stood twelve feet tall at the shoulder, a good twenty feet long, and had to weigh over five thousand pounds. It was covered in very thick, tough-looking armored scales that looked tough enough to stand up to basically anything these guys could dish out. Which was all intimidating enough on its own, before you added in the fire. Yeah, while the elephant-lizard was waving its trunk around, bursts of actual fire kept shooting out the end of it like miniature fireballs. Its trunk was a flamethrower.


    Well that got their attention. The big guy and his partner, and all the remaining troops scattered around, stared in shock. I heard a few muttered curses and prayers.


    ¡°Like I said,¡± Dani snapped, ¡°I was playing nice. I wasn¡¯t even gonna let my new friend here join the party. Bumbershoot was having fun breaking your stuff in there anyway. But no, you had to push this to the next level. Now he doesn¡¯t get to set your couches on fire like he wanted to, so maybe you should think twice before giving him some other target to burn.¡±


    That time, the two Fells, and their Prev troops, didn¡¯t hesitate aside from the quick glance they gave each other. It was the women who spoke. ¡°Right, the location¡¯s blown anyway. Let¡¯s go!¡± She gave a sharp whistle, flinching visibly as the sound made the elephant-lizard point his flamethrower-trunk that way.


    The big guy picked himself up, backing off slowly. As did the woman herself, though she lifted her chin, giving me a long look. ¡°So let me guess, you want us to leave all that fine booty we spent so long pulling together too.¡±


    My voice was flat. ¡°You can do whatever you want with your booty, lady. But as for all the stolen merchandise, it stays here. We¡¯ll get it back where it belongs. You¡¯ll just have to start over. Feel glad you have the chance to do that with your entire gang intact. Err, well, mostly intact, anyway.¡± My words had immediately been met by several rather pained groans from the assorted troops. Those who hadn¡¯t already fled for the hills anyway, who happened to be the worst-injured amongst them.


    ¡°Nope, nope,¡± the Fell woman agreed, head shaking quickly with a quick glance toward the smoldering giant reptile. ¡°Totally fine. We¡¯re good over here. Take everything you want, enjoy.¡± Her voice cracked slightly, and she was rather frantically backing up the whole time.


    The big guy grunted, backing up along with her to squeeze his way out of the alley. Well, he squeezed at first. With every step, he was getting smaller, as pieces of his large armored body seemed to fold in on themselves, shrink, and disappear. Soon, he was only about seven feet tall, covered in what looked like mostly broken bricks and a few pieces of metal from lampposts or something. Instead of his face being behind a windshield, it was half-covered by a ring of asphalt. ¡°Right, fine,¡± he informed us, ¡°but don¡¯t think this is completely over, tourists. I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯ll see each other again before you get out of here. Especially if you¡¯re gonna stick around through the games.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight we will,¡± the woman agreed. ¡°We¡¯ll have to play again, real soon.¡± Her eyes were on me. Honestly, in that moment neither of them seemed like they were threatening us with death or anything. It was more like someone promising to win the next game between a couple sports teams. They were annoyed by the whole situation, and already planning some sort of revenge. But not the ¡®horribly murder you¡¯ kind. Which went along with the fact that the girl had checked to make sure being blown apart in my liquid form wouldn¡¯t kill me or anything to prove these guys were just thieves, not total monsters.


    Pack, her lizards (including the freaking giant elephant), and I just stood there, watching them leave. It felt awkward, and part of me wondered if I should actually be trying to do more to stop them and turn them in. But we¡¯d made a deal, and promised to let them go if they just left their stolen merch and walked away. Besides, like I¡¯d said, I was supposed to be on vacation. I¡¯d already violated that by coming this far, but what was I supposed to do, just let Pack¡¯s lizards be stolen?


    Once they were gone, Riddles flew up to keep an eye on the surrounding area just in case any of them got the bright idea to try sneaking back to take us by surprise. Meanwhile, I found myself staring at the elephant-lizard. ¡°Uhh¡­ didn¡¯t know you had a new friend in that bag. You said his name was Bumbershoot?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± she confirmed easily, running her hand over the figure in question. As she did so, he shrank down, gradually becoming slightly more manageable in size. Even without her help, he was a six-foot long Komodo dragon. So yeah, still not exactly tiny. My mouth opened to ask how something like that fit in the bag, just as she opened it, held the bag in front of him, and make a clicking sound with her tongue. First the Komodo dragon poked his head into the bag, then lifted it out and made a snarl-hiss sort of sound.


    ¡°Yes, yes, we can get beef jerky,¡± Dani assured him. ¡°I promise.¡± She glanced to me, ¡°Some rich fucking prick had him stuck in a personal petting zoo for his toddler to ride or something. Way and I¡­ liberated him together. Like I said, I wasn¡¯t going to let him get in a fight yet, until I can train him more. But he does intimidating pretty well, and we needed intimidating right then.¡±


    Her promise of getting jerky was apparently enough, since Bumbershoot made a noise of contentment and anticipation before crawling into the bag. And yes, that six-foot long reptile somehow disappeared into the two-foot long bag. Not that I should¡¯ve been surprised at all, considering my own costume bag. Touched-Tech was wild.


    I wanted to know more about that whole ¡®Way and Pack liberated the Komodo dragon from a rich asshole¡¯ thing, but it wasn¡¯t exactly at the top of the list of topics we needed to get into.


    Soon, all the lizards aside from Riddles had shrunk down and joined their newest sibling. Taking a breath, I turned from the bag to look toward my companion. Pack--Dani had taken off her mask by that point. She was just standing there, staring intently without saying anything. I wasn¡¯t sure what exactly was going through her mind, but she was obviously having some very deep, conflicting thoughts right then. I knew I sure was.


    ¡°Well,¡± I finally managed in a voice that cracked just a little, ¡°I guess we have a few things to talk about, huh?¡± God was that ever an understatement. Yes, Eits already knew who I was, but somehow this felt different. Maybe because I had intentionally made the choice to reveal myself. Sure, it was a choice made in the spur of the moment, a rather intense moment at that, but still.


    Dani, for her part, gave a soft snort while shaking her head with a wry, ¡°Well you definitely have understatement powers. Tell you what, I know your superhero senses are tingling right now, so why don¡¯t you go ahead and call this in so you can tell the local Shields where to come pick up the uhh¡­ booty? Get them on their way, then we can get out of here and find a place to talk.¡±


    I could tell, despite how casual the actual words might have been, that it was taking everything the other girl had not to just grab and start violently shaking me demanding answers. She knew as well as I did that standing here talking about everything we needed to get into was a bad idea.


    So, I used the Doephone app to submit a report about there being a bunch of stolen tourist stuff in that building, dropping a pin for them to find the exact location. I described the gang and the Fell-Touched we¡¯d fought as well as I could so they¡¯d know who they would be dealing with. I left the whole thing anonymous, not wanting to have to deal with answering more questions right then. I definitely didn¡¯t want to get into details of why I had shown up there alongside Pack.


    Finally, she shrank most of her lizards back to normal, and the two of us quickly left after making sure the coast was clear. We didn¡¯t go that far though. After I changed back to my regular clothes, we left the alley and made our way to an all-night Mexican food place with a few tables in the parking lot. We got some tacos (as well as several takeout containers full of hamburger, steak, and chicken that she stuffed into the bag for the lizards to enjoy), went to the far corner where we wouldn¡¯t be overheard, and sat together. Riddles, the only one who wasn¡¯t back in the bag, flew high over our heads, still keeping an eye on that place until the cops showed up.


    Which left me sitting there next to Dani, as she gave me a long squint. ¡°So,¡± she started slowly.


    ¡°Where exactly should we start?¡±

 To The Races 32-16

    One benefit to having told the story of how I became Paintball and everything that that had led to several times by now was that I was getting rather efficient about it. That first time, with Izzy, had been one of the most uncertain, fumbling moments of my life, with a lot of hesitation, ¡®umms¡¯ and ¡®uhhhs,¡¯ and just general overwhelming confusion. Now I knew what I was saying. Oh, it was still a lot, and my heart felt like it was trying to beat all the way out of my chest while I was getting into it. But I knew what to say, at the very least. I knew what words to use, I just had to actually use them. And even once I did, I still felt pretty damn anxious with every word that came out of my mouth. Yes, this was Pack, who had proven that she wouldn''t go blabbing secrets to her boss immediately. Plus, even if she had been the sort of person to do that, Ryder would warn me the second he heard. Which didn¡¯t exactly eliminate the problems that would spring up, but at least I wouldn¡¯t be taken completely off-guard.


    And yet, despite all those very logical points, I still felt the urge to bolt rather than tell the truth.


    But I pushed that down and got through all of it, somehow. I made myself ignore that powerful urge through the entire story. Bit by bit, I told the other girl everything in between bites of taco. Which, truthfully, also helped me stop myself from running away. They were very good tacos.


    Pack knew who I was. She knew my identity. In the rush of going out to save her lizards from those people, that simple fact hadn¡¯t really fully dawned on me, to be honest. Not until we were sitting there with our food, and I didn¡¯t have any other distractions. But there it was, Pack knew my identity, and even if I really didn¡¯t think she¡¯d go exposing it, she could if she wanted to. She could tell her boss exactly who I really was. Even if Ryder did warn me, like I believed he would, that wouldn¡¯t completely contain the damage. I just¡­ I had to push that out of my mind and hope that I really could trust the other girl with this. She was a Fell-Touched, yes. She was a thief. But if there was one thing I¡¯d learned after all this time, it was that things just weren¡¯t that simple.


    To my surprise, Dani had her own story to tell after I got through my own. It was surprising both because I had expected her to need a few minutes to process, and because she had a few things of her own to share. First and potentially foremost, she had obviously seen Sierra before and worked out that she looked like me. That had led her on a whole long thing to try to figure out why Pittman would have made a Biolem Cassidy Evans. Which had made her realize that my parents must have had some strong connection to the Ministry. Though she believed they were probably simply financing it, not that they were actually in charge. More importantly, and embarrassingly, she had apparently been watching me rather closely whenever we were at school. Close enough to have noticed how on edge I was, which had convinced her that my parents were abusive.


    Was it weird that I felt a rush of defensiveness on my parents¡¯ behalf? Under the circumstances, it was probably pretty weird. Especially considering what I had seen that night. My brother had shot a man in the leg for failing to find me. My mother had smacked him for bringing my shoe home. I still didn''t know what that was all about. They had seemed rather different that night, and immediately after, than they''d been ever since. Something had clearly happened back then to put my family on edge so much, but what? Why had they been so quick to jump to family violence and murder as a solution? I still remembered my father talking to Simon about killing me. Or at least, about killing the mysterious witness they thought was a small boy. But in all subsequent interactions with them, they had seemed much more capable of negotiation and just¡­ more diplomatic. Less prone to jumping straight to death threats, at the very least. It couldn¡¯t all be just because I had proven myself to be kind of useful and hadn¡¯t tried to go to any of the authorities yet, could it?


    I was pretty sure there had to be more to it, but I didn''t have time to focus on it right then. Not when I was sitting there listening to Dani talk about how she had been just a few seconds from swooping in to give my entire family a real piece of her mind. And that was only if she had restrained herself from outright assaulting my parents, lizards or no lizards. Which--yeah, the thought of Dani being so thoroughly offended and outraged on my behalf, someone she didn¡¯t even know that well, that she had been very close to literally physically assaulting the richest, most financially and politically powerful couple in the state (before you ever even added in the whole Ministry thing), made me blush deeply. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how that would¡¯ve gone.


    Fortunately, we didn''t have to find out. Now she understood just how dangerous it could be if my family knew just how much she was aware of. She understood that we had to keep this secret.


    And speaking of keeping things a secret, once I finished explaining all that and made sure she was actually processing who my parents were, I found myself asking, ¡°Okay, but does--err, That-A-Way know? I mean, does she know about you being--about Dani and Pack being the same person?¡± Boy this was hard to ask without outright asking if she knew that Amber and Way were the same person.


    The question made her simultaneously blush and duck her gaze, and I heard a soft chuckle. ¡°Yeah, she knows. It¡¯s kind of a long story, with a bit of a sitcom twist, but still. She knows who I am. And for the record, I know who--wait, do you know that-- hang on, I think I need to figure out how to ask if¡­ do you know who That-A-Way--¡±


    We both stared at each other for a long moment before speaking simultaneously. ¡°Amber.¡± Then we slumped back and laughed a little.


    Dani found her voice first. ¡°I really hope you¡¯re not about to hold it against her for not telling you the whole truth.¡±


    That made me cough. ¡°I mean, to be honest I was about to say the same thing to you. Err, that is, I was about to say I hope you don¡¯t hold Amber not telling you about my identity against her.¡±


    ¡°Not really, it wasn¡¯t her secret to tell,¡± Dani noted with an easy shrug before taking another bite of her taco. From the sound she made, it was just as delicious for her too. Then she met my gaze once more, looking a bit curious. ¡°Did you ever find out anything else about those people?¡±


    The question made me blink in confusion. Weren¡¯t we just talking about Amber and how much she had known about each of us and our secrets? ¡°Find out anything else about what people?¡±


    It was her turn to blink, leaning forward on the table to squint at me while her head slowly turned to the side. It was actually kind of a lizard-like head motion, which made me wonder if she was simply influenced by being around them so much, or if her powers actually made her act more lizard-like somehow. Either way, she pointedly clarified, ¡°The people you saw get killed back at that motel, the first night. Did you ever find out who they were or why your family might¡¯ve been so intent on killing them. I mean, you said yourself they seemed more angry about the whole situation back then and now they¡¯ve cooled off. It¡¯s obvious something about whatever was going on with those people they had killed in that motel must have really upset them. So what was it?¡±


    Yeah, all I could do for a moment after she asked that was stare in silence. My mouth opened, shut, then opened again. I heard myself give a very faint whine before shaking my head. ¡°Okay, it¡¯s been a really busy few months. I¡¯m not even sure how I¡¯d look into that without tipping them off. I mean, do I go to the cops and ask if I can find out any details about them finding dead bodies in that motel and then just sort of hope I¡¯m not talking to someone who works for the Ministry? And that it won¡¯t get back to them any other way? They¡¯ve cooled off since then, sure. But I¡¯m pretty positive they¡¯d probably object if they found out I was digging into that whole thing.¡±


    Dani, for her part, considered that before lifting her chin. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I just thought you might¡¯ve poked at it just a little earlier. At least enough to know who they were. But hey, if it¡¯s too dangerous, it¡¯s too dangerous. I just--hmm.¡± She trailed off, head tilting once more.


    ¡°What?¡± I found myself asking. This whole situation was already so surreal. Dani was Pack. The new girl at my school, and the lizard-using Fell-Touched from La Casa, were the same person. Was she going through the same confusion and disbelief I was when it came to accepting that Cassidy Evans and Paintball were the same person? Actually, maybe it was even worse for her. Or better, given she¡¯d already known something was up with me since she saw Sierra.


    Dani held up a hand, obviously taking a moment to run through a thought in her head. She whispered something silently to herself that I couldn''t catch, then looked up and met my gaze once more with a small, yet mischievous smile. ¡°What if I helped out with that? I mean, to be fully honest, I really want to find out everything I can about this Ministry. They take part of my money, my earnings, and I never agreed to that. I want to know what they¡¯re providing, what they¡¯re capable of. I want to have my own voice be heard, not be subject to some shadow government. You know, no taxation without representation. I need to know more. And that means finding out what had them so upset back then. So yeah, I can totally help you with it.¡± With all that said, she paused briefly before adding. ¡°Okay, I really just have to say, knowing you aren¡¯t a young teenage boy really makes our interactions feel different.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°There''s a lot I should probably say to that,¡± I managed after a second of processing the whole thing, ¡°but I guess I should focus on the important bit. What do you mean help? I''m pretty sure they wouldn¡¯t react any better to finding out that you started looking into that whole situation than they would if it was me. I mean, Paintball me. If it was Cassidy me they¡¯d probably just try to erase my memory again.¡± Yeah, I¡¯d told her about that whole thing too, and I probably hadn¡¯t kept the annoyance and indignation out of my voice then any better than I was keeping it out now.


    Thankfully, Dani didn¡¯t dwell on that too much, aside from giving me a brief sympathetic look. When I¡¯d told her that whole thing, the full story about what had happened back then and what memories I¡¯d lost for so long, I had been pretty sure she was about to go back to that whole ¡®go give my parents a violent piece of her mind¡¯ plan from before. She¡¯d settled on grumbling about it. Now, after we exchanged that look, she simply went back to explaining her idea. Which was a doozy. ¡°I didn¡¯t say we should let them know anyone is looking into it. I¡¯m talking about doing what I do best: steal things. In this case, records from the cops. I figure we can take a whole bunch of records so having those ones doesn¡¯t stand out. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard to make it look like we¡¯re actually after some other sort of details or evidence if we¡¯re careful about it. Then we just look through and find out what exactly they¡¯ve found out about that whole thing. And as a bonus, if we take enough stuff, maybe I¡¯ll find something useful in, uh, other ways. It¡¯s win-win for both of us.¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence, before I leaned forward to hiss, ¡°Are you fucking high? How is breaking into a police station to steal records right out from under their noses an idea that won¡¯t attract the Ministry¡¯s attention? Actually, how is it something we could even pull off at all?¡±


    ¡°You seriously underestimate your own thieving skills, and mine,¡± Dani replied with a sniff of indignation. ¡°Besides, I wasn¡¯t talking about stealing from a police station. They keep records off-site these days. There¡¯s a whole warehouse for keeping that stuff. That¡¯s what we break into.¡±


    Staring down at my empty plate (I kind of wanted another taco) for a few long seconds as I took a deep breath, I let that play through my head. ¡°Okay if I¡¯m even going to keep considering this at all, crazy as it sounds, I assume you¡¯re talking about breaking in with disguises, like when we went into the Ministry base under the mall. No obvious use of our powers or anything like that.¡±


    Her head gave a short nod. ¡°Well yeah, we¡¯re not gonna go breaking through the wall with your pink paint right in front of the camera before having my lizards carry things out to a van with ¡®Paintball and Pack are working together to uncover Ministry secrets¡¯ painted on the side.¡±


    Raising my shoulders in an exaggerated shrug, I casually lamented, ¡°That''s too bad. I could have made a message like that look pretty sweet with lightning and flames all around it, and little pictures of your lizards standing on the letters in cute spy costumes. Maybe have Tuesday hanging off a rope from one of the letters like that old Scientology guy from Mission Impossible back when he was still acting. My dad says he used to be big.¡±


    She pointed at me with one finger. ¡°Well now I have to see that, whether we advertise what we¡¯re doing or not. You take commissions, right? Though I¡¯m not sure how much it¡¯d take to impress you, given your family owns like¡­ half the shit in the city.¡± As soon as she said that, the other girl¡¯s face twisted a bit and she backtracked. ¡°Sorry, fuck, I told myself I wouldn¡¯t bring that up. I didn¡¯t--yeah.¡± A heavy sigh escaped her. ¡°This is weird. You¡¯re just--I can¡¯t believe--it¡¯s obvious now, in hindsight, you know? It makes perfect sense. All that stuff you got into, especially with the Scions, it¡¯s better that you¡¯re not actually like a thirteen-year-old kid. And again, it makes so much more sense this way. But still, it¡¯s just¡­¡± She trailed off, clearly searching for the right words.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot,¡± I finished for her, giving the girl a sympathetic look. ¡°Trust me, I really, totally get that.¡±


    For a moment, the two of us just sat there looking at one another. We were obviously still trying to process the whole thing. It was all I could do not to start blurting out a hundred different wild questions. Finally, I settled on a weak, ¡°So what are you going to do now? I mean, about all this.¡±


    She exhaled slowly. ¡°Well first of all, I¡¯m sure as hell not gonna tell anyone. For what it¡¯s worth, you have my word on that. Whatever happens, I ain¡¯t no snitch. Especially not to the people who think they have the right to tax my ill-gotten gains.¡± That bit came with a small smirk before she sobered. ¡°But seriously, you don''t have to worry about me. You may be a stuffy old goody-good Star, but you¡¯re the-- ahem, second-best stuffy old goody-good Star I know. Sorry, Amber¡¯s gotta take the lead on that. You don¡¯t kiss like she does. I mean, I assume not, and I don¡¯t think she¡¯d be cool with us checking.¡± While my face turned pink, she cocked her head, holding up a finger with a contemplative look. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­. nope, that still feels weird. Sorry about that, I was trying to see if knowing who you are made it any less awkward to flirt with you, and it really doesn¡¯t. I think my subconscious still thinks of you as a little kid. Probably gonna take more time to sink in.¡±


    ¡°You know, I think I¡¯m pretty okay with that never being comfortable for you,¡± I informed her dryly. ¡°But yeah, you don''t have to worry about me either. I think it''s safe to say we can keep each other''s secrets.¡± After saying that, I had to shake my head slowly at the sheer absurdity of the entire situation. Seriously, what even was my life? And it had to be even more awkward and strange for Amber, considering she was actually dating this girl, all while actively being part of an official government-sanctioned team that was meant to stop her from committing all her crimes.


    Yeah, I had some questions about how that all worked, but now probably wasn''t the time or place to get into it. If there even was a right time and place for something like that. It was probably just¡­ something the two of them should deal with between themselves. Not really my business.


    By that point, the cops had shown up across the street. The two of us watched the first couple squad cars pull through with their lights off before a larger police van arrived a few minutes later. It looked like those first ones had gone in to see if there really was anything interesting there, then called in the van when they found all the stolen tourist stuff. That was going to take them awhile to sort through. But at least they actually showed up and looked like they were taking it seriously.


    Glancing at the other girl, I slyly asked, ¡°You have a bad taste in your mouth right now or what?¡±


    She snorted. ¡°You mean for turning over all that shit to the cops? Nah, not after those dumbfucks lizard-napped my buddies. They had it coming. Besides, it¡¯s not like I was friends with them. They can just consider losing all that loot payment for fucking with me.¡± She seemed to think about that for a moment before pondering, ¡°You think they have anything like the Ministry here?¡±


    My eyes shifted to look at the one cop car still sitting in view while I answered, ¡°If you''re asking that because you think it might be a good idea to move down here so you don''t get taxed, then yes. I think they probably have something much worse than our Ministry. Theirs probably take like¡­ half their earnings. And don¡¯t even provide nearly as much benefit. It¡¯s totally ridiculous.¡±


    Dani grinned at that. ¡°Aww, you don¡¯t want me to leave, huh? I guess I¡¯ll take that as proof that you actually like me, even if I am a filthy criminal bitch who belongs in jail.¡± That came with a wink, while she balled up her taco wrappers and arced them into the nearby garbage can.


    ¡°Well mostly I just don¡¯t want Amber to be sad,¡± I retorted immediately. ¡°Or leave. I wouldn¡¯t want her to follow you down here.¡± After that bit of teasing, I also told her about my feeling that my family might have something to do with what was going on here too. Maybe not a full-scale Ministry thing, but they probably had some sort of connection to that Lysander Legend guy and his casino-hotel. They¡¯d obviously been investing in the place for a reason after all, and I didn¡¯t think it was just to get more money. It felt like there was more to that whole thing, somehow.


    In any case, satisfied that we hadn¡¯t wasted our time contacting the authorities, the two of us went back to Dani¡¯s hotel, but only long enough for her to pick up the stuff she had left there. Including her pet rats, whom she had picked up just as part of her cover but still cared about. And I kept watch the whole time, as did Riddles from the sky. Dani wasn''t going to stay there another night, not with that gang still out there possibly wanting some sort of revenge. We just picked up her stuff and went to a different (but still very nice) place a few blocks away, where she checked in under another name. I politely ignored the fact that she had like three different fake IDs in her wallet.


    Once she was all checked in, we went up to the room and gave it a thorough once-over, just in case. It was fine. We both knew that, obviously. But we still checked anyway. Dani was clearly still a bit shaken up from almost losing her lizards, and I couldn¡¯t blame her for it. But once we were sure everything was clear (she was on the tenth floor, the windows were locked, and she was keeping the lizards and rats both out in the main room), the two of us sat together at the table, while Dani informed me that she would help Izzy cover for me to my parents while I was competing in the games. I didn¡¯t tell her anything about my new sister¡¯s Touched identity, just that she knew who I really was. It felt easier that way.


    Sitting there with the four-foot long iguana Mars Bar lounging on one side of me and the even larger six-foot long Komodo dragon Bumbershoot on the other, I took a sip of the soda we¡¯d picked up from the vending machine down the hall. ¡°To tell you the truth, I¡¯m really glad you ended up being Pack. I was kinda afraid I¡¯d have to deal with Pack-you showing up at school the next time Dani-you flirted with Amber. Bunch of giant lizard-creatures running down the hall, scaring everyone, it would¡¯ve been a whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Eh, that¡¯s still not a bad idea,¡± she informed me. ¡°Some of you rich fucks at that place could use a little excitement. And cardio from all the running away. Speaking of which, you sure you¡¯re ready for your first real competition tomorrow? You¡¯ll have to actually go up against other people.¡±


    My shoulders rose in a shrug. ¡°I dunno. If I totally suck, would you mind distracting everyone with one of those giant lizard attacks we were just talking about?¡±


    With a bright smile, Dani agreed, ¡°You know what, I think I can handle committing random acts of terrorism to stop you from being embarrassed.


    ¡°After all, what are friends for?¡±

 To The Races 32-17

    The paranoid part of my brain must have been trying to get back at me for ignoring it to join this whole competition against its rather insistent advice. It had spent the whole time I was helping Dani get checked into that hotel room and settled in plotting, and now that I was on my way back to the arena to get those pictures taken, it sprang the trap: what if that Fell you pissed off, or some of her troops, decide to get even by hitting you during the competition? There¡¯s so much chaos in there, everyone yelling from all sides, you¡¯d never see it coming. Even if people tried to shout warnings to you, there¡¯s no way you¡¯d be able to tell. You¡¯re a sitting duck in there, stupid. Way to go, now you¡¯re gonna die or be horribly maimed. Hope showing off was worth it to you.


    Sometimes, my paranoid self could be a real dick. But that didn''t mean it was completely wrong. Not in the least. I really was going to have to be careful out there. Sure, they had security, a lot of security. I wasn¡¯t exactly the first Touched to have potential enemies ready to show up the very second they could be certain of exactly where I was, so the organizers of this had to have plenty of protection set up. I wasn¡¯t even sure what all their precautions were, and that was kind of the point. No one outside the secure and trusted parts of the organizing committee knew just what defenses they had around and in this place, so it was that much harder to actually plan out how to get around those defenses. What I did know was that several people had been caught trying over the years, no matter how secretive and clever they were trying to be. It never really worked. There were rumors that the committee used very powerful Mind-Touched to be aware of any potential weaknesses in their security, and even left some that deliberately looked open to trick those people into trying to take advantage of them.


    But did any of those very valid and completely true points stop that paranoia from creeping its way through my brain the second I had that troubling thought? Pffft, of course not. That part of my mind had a foothold now, and it wasn¡¯t going to give it up for something dumb and useless like logic. I was just going to have to deal with being even more worried about something bad actually managing to get through those defenses and keep my eyes open. Even more open than they already were. But no, Paranoid Me, I absolutely was not going to drop out of the competition.


    Making that point very firmly inside my head after changing into my costume a short distance from the shed in the park, I made my way there. I¡¯d already sent my family a check-in text letting them know that I was going to be hanging out with Dani a bit longer so they wouldn¡¯t start getting curious about that, so I was good for the moment. Hopefully this whole thing wouldn¡¯t take long.


    Of course, then the paranoid part of me had to get even more fuel for itself (it really was gorging itself lately, I was concerned about its health) as I approached the shed and found a guy standing in front of the little keypad. He was about five foot ten, pretty well-built under a skin-tight dark red bodysuit, and had a black hardshell helmet covering his head with a white cross shape across it. The sight of the guy made my heart reflexively jump, before I reminded myself that I wasn¡¯t exactly the only person who was supposed to use the tunnel to get into the arena. There were dozens of Touched competing in these events, naturally I was going to cross paths with one of them heading inside occasionally. Especially if we were supposed to get pictures taken. No, finding someone here made sense.


    No sooner had I thought that and come all the way through what amounted to a second and a half of freaking out and calming down, than I had an all new reason to freak out. Namely the eyes that were suddenly looking at me. Eyes that were on top of the helmet. Not electronic camera fake eyes, real biological ones. Gooey biological eyes. They both slid around from the front, snapping into place on the back of the helmet to stare at me. And they weren¡¯t the only body parts to appear. At the same time, one of his arms sort of¡­ split. Actually, it was more like a second arm spontaneously pulled itself out of the original. It looked like a goopy mess very briefly, but solidified into an exact duplicate of the first arm almost immediately. It also slid around on top of the costume, until the arm was centered on his back. Which was when a sword appeared in it. A sword that appeared to be made of actual bone that had been sharpened. Yeah, one second I was staring at this guy¡¯s ordinary back, and the next he had actual biological eyes on the outside of the back of his helmet, and a third arm that had grown out of one of the extant ones before visibly moving over his back so it could point a goddamn sword at me. A sword that was actually made out of bone.


    ¡°Oh!¡± The guy¡¯s voice (sounding like it was projected through a microphone) abruptly blurted, even as I was reeling from that whole thing, ¡°you¡¯re that Paintball guy, right?¡± Even as he said it, the bone sword disappeared, as did the extra arm and the eyes. Both of which dissolved into goop before turning to dust and blowing away. By that point, he was already turning around, revealing another set of extra (at least I hoped they were extra) biological eyes attached to the front of his otherwise featureless helmet. Yeah, it was literally just a blank metal helmet with a pair of human eyes stuck to it. They took me in as the guy spoke again, his voice once more slightly computerized as it came through a microphone inside the helmet. ¡°Sorry if I freaked you out. Or, you know, am still freaking you out. I¡¯m told it takes a little bit to get used to my schtick.¡±


    Blinking a few times at that, I mentally kicked myself after a second. ¡°Oh! I--uh, no. I mean yes, I¡¯m Paintball. And that--uh, that¡¯s really something.¡± Boy was I just a fantastic conversationalist or what? Truly, this poor guy wasn¡¯t going to feel awkward or just regret trying to talk to me at all.


    Fortunately, from the sound of his soft chuckle, the guy was accustomed to that sort of reaction. ¡°Yeah, something¡¯s one word for it. There¡¯s other, less polite ones some people use, especially when they first see it.¡± He shrugged easily. ¡°Sorry again, we haven¡¯t met at all yet, and if you don¡¯t really pay attention to the Atlanta Touched scene, you¡¯ve probably never even heard of me. The name¡¯s Bodyshop.¡± Belatedly, he amended, ¡°Well, it¡¯s not actually my real name, but you know.¡±


    Despite my surprise at the whole situation, I found myself painting a smiley face on the front of my helmet. ¡°Yeah, I haven¡¯t really gotten around to updating my official ID or anything yet either.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you make a face on your helmet too?¡± Bodyshop followed up that question by, yeah, making a pair of lips appear on the outside of his helmet, right where they should be under those eyes. Well, where they should be if they¡¯d been on his actual face rather than the metal helmet. That time, when he spoke, it looked even more weird because the voice still came from inside while the lips that were on the helmet remained motionless in that simple smile. ¡°This always freaks out the people who¡­ uhh, right, that was probably a bad idea if I was trying to make you feel better about the whole thing and calm down, huh? Sorry, sometimes I really don¡¯t think at all.¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, no, it¡¯s okay.¡± My head shook. ¡°I get it, sometimes my powers freak people out too. See?¡± With that, I shifted into my pink liquid self and dissolved into a puddle. As his eyes (however many of them he actually had) took that in, I moved around in the dirt for a moment before reforming back to my normal self. ¡°So yeah, I definitely understand freaky powers, believe me. I take it you duplicate your body parts and uh, move them around on yourself or whatever?¡±


    ¡°Dude, melting into a puddle? That¡¯s sweet. I saw your display earlier, where you exploded and reformed, but I didn¡¯t know you could do it on command and move around!¡± Bodyshop made that extra mouth on his helmet smile once more before it dissolved. ¡°And yeah, I can absorb uhh¡­ biological material, find out all sorts of stuff about it, like a human DNA scanner, make copies of my own parts and move them around and control them as long as they¡¯re within a few inches of my body, that sort of thing. Even make them appear on the outside of my clothes, as you¡¯ve seen. Oh, and I adjust my own copied parts too. Changing the eye color, sharpening that piece of my duplicated leg bone into the sword you saw, and strengthening it so it doesn¡¯t snap in half as soon as I hit something with it.¡±


    ¡°Super useful,¡± I murmured, absorbing that whole thing. Powers really could get freaky, that was for sure. ¡°So you see out of eyes on the front of your helmet and any others you put on yourself?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it takes a bit to get used to, but I manage,¡± he confirmed, sounding slightly self-conscious. Now that I was listening to him a bit more, I was pretty sure he was still a teenager. Late teens, older than me, but still a teenager. ¡°People who are a lot smarter than me say that it seems like whenever I make new eyes, I also make the, ahh, other stuff necessary to use them, inside my brain. It¡¯s like¡­ you¡¯ve got parts of your brain that process visual data and tell the rest of your brain what it means. When I make new eyes, it builds a temporary counterpart in my brain that does the same sort of processing as the original. Then the rest of my brain sort of puts it all together so I can keep track of what I¡¯m seeing, even in different directions. The doctors have some much bigger and more impressive words for it, but that¡¯s about as much as I understand.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I wouldn¡¯t understand it if you made it any more complicated than that,¡± I assured him. ¡°Still, that¡¯s pretty cool. But you take in other, uhh, body pieces you said? Something about scanning DNA.¡± If this guy could do something like that, I really didn¡¯t want to let him get any of my saliva, blood, or anything like that. My mind was spinning out a bit about the bad possibilities. But I tried to keep all of that out of my voice and just sound intrigued rather than nervous about it.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I don¡¯t use my powers for working out secret identities or anything like that,¡± Bodyshop immediately put in, proving either he was more perceptive, or I was much worse at hiding my feelings. ¡°But yeah, my skin will absorb any bit of¡­ let¡¯s just call it genetic material and I sort of get a pop-up in my mind telling me all sorts of stuff about it. A lot of the time it depends on the amount of material, and just how, ahh, intact or degraded it is. But generally speaking, I can tell you how tall the person--or animal--is, whether they¡¯re human or animal, natural hair and eye color, any genetic variations or other things that would stand out, current illnesses, yada yada yada. Plus, not only do I have my own regeneration, but if you take a damaged piece of biological material like uhh, someone¡¯s heart and put it against my body, I can fix it. I mean, slowly, and it¡¯s kind of gross. My skin sort of sucks up the organ and takes it into its own separate chamber in my chest, heals it up over the course of a few days or a week, and then I can push it out again, good as new.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Well that left me staring at him for a moment, painting a surprised open-mouthed smiley face on my visor before coughing. ¡°So you fix other people¡¯s body parts as long as they--err--don¡¯t mind losing them for a little bit? I guess that probably helps fix them up for transplant into someone else.¡±


    His head bobbed immediately. ¡°Sure does. In fact, that¡¯s the other thing. Say I take one person¡¯s heart and absorb it, right? If I also take part of someone else, like their blood, I can sort of¡­ tune the organ to the DNA in the blood. That way, when it gets implanted, the new body won¡¯t reject it. It takes a couple weeks for me to do something like that, so it¡¯s not like I¡¯m exactly completely revolutionizing the entire transplant process, but it does let me help a couple people each month who wouldn¡¯t have gotten a working organ otherwise. So, you know, that part is pretty cool.¡±


    Whistling low, I managed a weak, ¡°Yeah, I guess it really would be. And pretty useful to have around. Especially if--wait, you said you¡¯re from Atlanta? As in Atlanta, Georgia? Isn¡¯t that place--uh, you know¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t think of the most polite way to phrase what I wanted to say.


    ¡°Completely overrun by violent, extremist warlords who control most of the city and surrounding areas?¡± Bodyshop supplied casually. ¡°With Star-Touched like the Conservators overrun and overworked, barely holding onto certain key areas while the gangs rule everywhere else? Yeah, that¡¯s the one. And yes, it can get real nasty over there. But it¡¯s still my home, and I like helping the people who are just trying to live their lives, you know? We try to do as much as we can.¡±


    There were a few cities around the country that had something like that, with Fells running large parts or even the majority of their territory. But none of them were as large or as thoroughly compromised as Atlanta. The actual city government didn¡¯t really exist anymore, and the state capital had basically been moved to Augusta, a hundred and fifty miles away. Meanwhile, Atlanta itself was, as far as I knew, basically carved up between five different competing factions.


    There were a lot of Fell-Touched involved in that, but the leaders of the five factions who were constantly at war with each other were some of the most famous Fells in the country, just because of how much control they had over a very large city in what was supposed to still be part of the United States. There were the Risen, led by a guy known as Growtesque, with the w. He could grow to massive skyscraper sizes and anywhere in between, but the larger he got, the more monstrous and--well, ugly his appearance. Rumor was he was actually quite handsome in his human form.


    The second gang were called Melting Pot. Their leader was Wickwright, this woman who was able to create apparently unlimited numbers of wax soldiers. They weren¡¯t that much stronger than normal people, but simply being able to create thousands of mindless cannon fodder troops made her incredibly dangerous.


    Then there was Menagerie, an organization whose leadership was composed almost entirely of TONIs. The one in charge was a white tiger known as Baekho, who was one of the most powerful aerokinetics in the country, if not the world.


    Downsize was the leader of the fourth gang, who were called Enterprise. He was able to surround things, or even living beings, with bubbles that he could shrink down and telekinetically move around. The things or people were practically invulnerable as long as they were shrunk down, and he could put them back to normal size whenever he wanted. He literally threw around entire buildings like that.


    Finally, the last of the Atlanta gangs was a group known as Penumbra. They were the most secretive group, thieves and assassins basically. Their leader was Skulk. Her power, terrifying as it might have sounded, allowed her to hide behind anything or anyone. As long as she was within about a foot of something that she designated as her hiding place, no one could see her. Not even the person she was using to hide behind. She could follow someone down a busy, crowded street in broad daylight and no one would know.


    In any case, those were the leaders of the five gangs over there. They each controlled a constantly-changing piece of the city. The whole place was all much more dangerous and powerful than what we had up in Detroit. Or at least, more openly dangerous. Instead of having the Ministry secretly controlling and manipulating things, they had open warfare between all the gangs, with temporary, tentative truces and betrayals starting and ending every other week. From everything I¡¯d heard, Atlanta was basically a warzone. But they didn¡¯t call in a group like Armistice to end the problem because the gangs were too entrenched, with what amounted to an entire city of hostages. Well, first it was because the Georgia governor refused help, insisting they could handle things. He didn¡¯t want foreign Touched parading around enforcing the laws. And by the time they realized they really couldn¡¯t handle it, the local civilian populace was basically controlled by the gangs too. Not all of them, obviously. But each gang had thousands of civilians ready to act as human shields or suicide bombs the moment outside forces pushed too hard. If Armistice, or any other big group of outsiders or the military went in, it would be a massacre on several levels. It was a complete clusterfuck, in no uncertain terms. Last I¡¯d heard, they were still working on ways to fix it. But it had been a problem for¡­ at least ten years, and showed no signs of actually improving at all.


    In other words, this guy was probably really busy if his goal was to help people. Offering him a smiley face on my visor and a thumbs up across my chest, I replied, ¡°Well, it¡¯s good to know there¡¯s still people over there who actually want to make things better. Or at least stop them from spiraling quite as much. But what are you doing here?¡± As soon as the words left my mouth, I winced before amending, ¡°What I mean is, are you competing in something, or just helping?¡±


    ¡°Helping.¡± After saying that, the guy turned a bit to gesture toward the shed and the tunnel beyond. ¡°One of my teammates is competing. Her name¡¯s Tumbleweed. Makes herself superlight and bouncy, propels herself in any direction, and can make the impact she hits things with super-hard without doing any damage to herself. The more things she bounces off of before hitting the thing she wants to hurt, the higher she can boost the damage. It¡¯s kinda fun to watch.¡±


    He was right, that sounded fun. No wonder they wanted her to compete. Although¡­ ¡°Sorta sounds like she should¡¯ve gone with Pinball,¡± I murmured, before coughing. ¡°Not to backseat drive your friend¡¯s name choices. Or suggest she use a name close to mine, come to think of it.¡±


    Bodyshop chuckled, waving that off casually. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not the first one to suggest that. She grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere. So she just likes the name Tumbleweed. Apparently they used to blow around her family¡¯s property all the time. It¡¯s a personal thing.¡±


    Both of us realized we were taking way too long standing out there when we were supposed to be in the arena. I had those pictures to do, and he was supposed to be bringing Tumbleweed her anxiety medication. So we headed in, talking a bit more on the way. I would technically be competing against his friend in a few of the upcoming events, but I didn¡¯t really care about that. I mean, I cared about the competition, but it wasn¡¯t that big of a deal. This whole thing was for fun.


    After making it into the arena, we split off. I waved as the guy went to find his teammate, before following Devon¡¯s directions to the room where I was supposed to get my picture taken. For some reason, now that I was alone, walking through these quiet halls (all the fans had long-since left for the evening so there wasn¡¯t even the sound of crowds off in the distance), I felt nervous. This was real. I was getting my picture taken to officially be a part of this whole competition. Why did this, walking alone in a quiet hallway, make me realize that even more definitively than actually performing in front of everyone a few hours earlier had? What was wrong with me?


    Well, whatever it was, dealing with it would have to wait. I found the room, which turned out to be a large banquet-type area full of tables of buffet-style food and a stage at the far end. There were dozens of people, about half of whom were in costume, milling around and chatting. When I came through the door, several of them waved and called out greetings.


    I was still trying to figure out what to do now that I was here, when Devon showed up. He came through the crowd, beaming at me. ¡°Great, great, you¡¯re here. Hope you didn¡¯t have any trouble finding the room, I meant to have someone out there to help. But uh, security says you had a little discussion with our friend from Atlanta?¡±


    So they had been watching. That wasn¡¯t exactly surprising. Giving a quick nod, I assured the man that I¡¯d found the room just fine. ¡°So now what?¡±


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re still waiting for the photographer, to be honest,¡± he informed me. ¡°So mill around a bit, meet some of the others if you want. Get something to eat, there¡¯s plenty of food, and if you don¡¯t want to uncover your mouth, you can take it over behind any of the privacy screens we have scattered through the room. Other than that, as soon as our guy gets here we¡¯ll get all the pictures taken. There¡¯ll be a few of you by yourself and a few group shots with whoever the photographer thinks would be good.¡±


    No sooner had I agreed with that and turned to meander my way through the crowd, than another voice spoke up. ¡°There¡¯s the boy!¡± It was my dad, as Silversmith. He came right up, clad in that sleek silver armor while extending a hand to me. ¡°Hey there, Paintball, thanks for coming on such short notice. And I must say, that was a truly impressive display out there for your introduction.¡±


    I accepted the handshake. What else was I supposed to do? ¡°Uh, thanks, sir. It was fun. I mean, kinda crazy, but fun.¡±


    With a soft chuckle, Dadsmith agreed, ¡°Crazy but fun sums it up. You deserve something like this, after everything you¡¯ve done back in the city. Come on, I¡¯ll introduce you to a few people you might like to know.¡±


    Just like that, I was being guided along toward one of the mingling groups by my own unknowing father. I was going to have to spend the rest of this whole thing right next to him, talking to him, and trying not to let him realize who I really was. So maybe I should really thank him.


    Because if I managed to get through all this without anything going terribly wrong, I wouldn¡¯t have anything left in me to be nervous about the actual competition.

 To The Races 32-18

    I had been through a lot of intense, nerve-racking situations in the time since I had Touched. Basically non-stop, and probably more than my fair share, to be honest. But I could safely say that almost none of it had kept me as consistently anxious and twitchy as the next hour. An hour that I spent letting my Dadsmith cart me around that room introducing me to all those people. We must have spoken to at least a couple dozen men and women (and a couple in between). Some were important political figures, others were law enforcement or part of the actual tournament staff, the people putting this whole thing together. And a few were other Touched, local or visiting. Once all was said and done, there was no way I was actually going to be able to remember all of them. Not a chance in hell. Maybe I would have been able to remember them better if I wasn''t so nervous about the fact that I had to spend so long around my father without him noticing anything familiar about me, but honestly it probably would have been a reach even then. It was a lot of people to be introduced to at once at any point, let alone when I was still sort of in shock about even being here. Fortunately, no one seemed surprised about it. That I was reeling and not in a state to be committing things to memory, that was. I was sure they would¡¯ve been very surprised to find out the details about why I was so anxious about Silversmith finding out who I was. No one seemed to expect me to really remember that much about all the faces and names being thrown at me.


    That was the impression I got, anyway. But considering how distracted I was through that whole thing, for all I knew, there was going to be some sort of pop quiz later about who was who. And my luck, it would count for points inside the actual tournament. I could jump off a building and fall a hundred stories through colored hoops while avoiding live gunfire, but if they asked me to so much as match five names to five photos of people I met hours ago, I was definitely screwed.


    I did, at the very least, manage to pay attention properly when my dad introduced me to the leader of the local Conservators. She was a short, thin black woman wearing a dark gray bodysuit with reddish swirl patterns throughout it, a matching hood, and a red visor that left the bottom of her face exposed. Her name was Perimeter, and she was--well, she was cheerful.


    ¡°So, so good to meet you!¡± She was shaking my hand up and down rapidly, grinning the whole time. The two of us were actually almost the same height, with her only having maybe two inches on me, if that. ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping up with the news coming out of Detroit, and--¡± Her low, impressed whistle filled the air in that corner of that large banquet room or whatever it was. ¡°Dude, you are just seriously impressive, you know that? Kinda makes me hope that, when you make it to graduation, you and the rest of your team give serious thought to moving down here.¡±


    With an audible chuckle, Dadsmith raised his hand. ¡°Hey now, I didn¡¯t introduce the two of you just so you can poach one of our best rising Touched right out from under me. Besides, your city isn¡¯t exactly lacking when it comes to impressive Stars. Take you, for example.¡± He gestured easily. ¡°Tell the boy here about the tricks you do with that power of yours, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll love it.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, I do enjoy talking about my power!¡± Lifting her chin with a quick, dazzling smile, she went right into it. ¡°So here¡¯s the deal, I name things--err in my head, it doesn¡¯t need to be out loud. Can you imagine that sort of weakness? Wait, you actually have someone up there whose powers are determined by words he says outloud, don¡¯t you? Final--no Lastword, that was it. He¡¯s a Sell-Touched and--wait why am I telling you about people from your own city? I¡¯m supposed to be talking about my power! Sorry, where was I? Name things. I name things in my head, and those things aren¡¯t allowed to get within a certain distance of me. For simple things it can be generic like ¡®bullets¡¯ and that will apply to all bullets. Or blades or whatever. For complicated things like people or animals, I have to be very specific. I can¡¯t just keep every person away from me. It either has to be a specific person, or ¡®everyone in this matching uniform,¡¯ or something like that. And I can¡¯t just say ¡®all Fell-Touched¡¯ either. They¡¯re too different, usually. Anyway, the more things I force to stay away from me, the closer they can get. If I¡¯m only keeping one thing away, I can push it to about ten feet. Minus about one foot for each additional different thing. I can keep ten things about an inch from my body. Usually I keep it to about six things a few feet from me.¡±


    ¡°She can pack a pretty mean wallop with her punches too,¡± Dadsmith noted idly, sounding like he knew very well from experience. Right, they¡¯d probably sparred a fair bit, that made sense. It wasn¡¯t like my father was limited to only interacting with people inside Detroit most of the time.


    With an honest to God self-conscious giggle, Perimeter shrugged. ¡°Oh that¡¯s just because I set whatever I¡¯m punching to the longest possible distance right before impact. It protects me from any damage from actually hitting them, and they get violently propelled out away from me.¡± Her fingers snapped, as she added, ¡°Oh, and I can set the uhh, protected thing as something other than myself, if I want to. Like you, see?¡± Her hand moved, tossing a small cookie at me. Just as quickly, it bounced off an invisible shield about a foot from my face and dropped to the floor. Or at least, it tried to. Before it could completely fall, the thing bounced off another invisible shield that she had apparently placed there. She¡¯d apparently placed that one on the floor and set it at an angle, given the way it bounced directly into her hand so she could take a bite. Yup, she really was good with her power.


    So good with it, in fact, that she was even able to fly under it. Well, it was more like hover-gliding, but still. By making the ground directly under her feet one of the targets of her barrier, she could actually lift herself into the air. Then she made the ground slightly behind her another target, and it pushed her forward away from that spot. From there, she simply constantly adjusted the targets so she would be pushed forward. She did it so quickly and smoothly that she could travel as fast as a regular car without any trouble. She glided in a circle around me to demonstrate, and it just looked like she was hovering as easily as any other Touched with actual flight powers.


    In any case, I could definitely tell why she had been chosen to be part of the Conservators. She had an incredibly useful power to begin with, and she seemed to have a lot of experience and skill with it. I wasn''t exactly sure how well that translated into being the leader, but maybe she was different, more serious and focused, when she was actually out doing that sort of thing. After all, the way someone acted in a social setting didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t switch it up.


    And to be completely fair, I was hardly one to throw stones about not seeming serious.


    We talked about some of her Phoenix teammates too, like Bullyball (he controlled an invulnerable orb that could change sizes from being about as big as a marble to larger than a dump truck) and Second-Hand (by looking at someone and focusing, she could make energy-construct copies of their hands appear, which could move around on their own and, if that person had powers, create minor versions of those powers). The first obviously reminded me of Alloy, to the point that if he had been dead, I might¡¯ve wondered if his powers were recycled to her. But no, both were very much still alive, thankfully. It was just one of those things. It did, however, make me think that it might be useful to let Peyton talk to the guy and see if he could tutor her a bit.


    But yes, in the end, most of my interactions with all those people throughout the party went right in one ear and out the other. There was no way I would have the slightest chance of actually remembering all of them. Still, I did my best to be as polite as possible. Even if part of me did worry that my dad would somehow figure out it was me just because I was being polite to company, the way he taught me, rather than acting like a typical wild teen boy with no experience in this sort of situation. The temptation to act out just a little to avoid that, and maybe a little bit out of some genuine feelings of rebellion in that moment, was very strong. But I pushed it all down.


    Finally, it was time for the pictures. The photographer and his assistants took about an hour getting everything they needed. He took solo shots, group shots with people in the same category or from the same area (like Dadsmith and me), or even just people they thought would look good in a photo together. There was a lot of posing and standing around. The guy was kind of pushy, but he obviously knew what he was doing. And I had the feeling that the main reason he came off as demanding was because he knew any or all of his subjects could be called away to deal with something else at any moment. He didn''t have the luxury of being polite and patient.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Then it was over. Almost before I really understood that we were done, half the people in the room had already fled. It was like they were afraid that if they waited even another second after the photographer was finished, someone would come up with another excuse to make them stick around even longer. Seriously, it looked like my old middle school classroom one second after the last bell rang on the final day before summer vacation. I was pretty sure a few of them had left actual dust clouds in the wake of their retreat. It was almost inspiring, to be really honest.


    Whether it was a good or bad thing, my father wasn''t one of those who abandoned the room. He saw me looking around with that air of bewilderment and gave a soft chuckle. ¡°I suppose they all had very important matters to attend to.¡± Then he turned his attention fully to me, which didn''t exactly do much to make me feel any less nervous. God, it was a good thing that I had a helmet keeping my entire facial expression hidden. It was hard enough as it was not to let my simple body language give anything away. He might have questions if he saw me reflexively flinch away from one of the most celebrated and revered Star-Touched in the entire state of Michigan. But by the same token, I couldn¡¯t let myself lean into him too much for being my dad either. I had to stay completely neutral, as if he was just some guy I could mostly trust but didn¡¯t know all that well.


    Or maybe I was slightly overthinking the entire thing and should just take a fucking breath or two.


    All of that ran through my head while he gave me a long look before speaking up. ¡°As for you, how are you set on a place to stay? We can arrange a room for you at a nice hotel, completely anonymous. I assume you made sure your parents know that you''re okay, at least? I know the law says you can''t be required to tell them about your extracurricular activities, but we''d rather not have to deal with you being reported missing. That just complicates everything, believe me.¡±


    Okay, was he digging for information about me? Was all of this a trick, a way to check their list of suspects for who I could be against any possible clues I gave them by responding to this? Was he waiting to see if I said anything that could let him eliminate possible Detroit teens they might have decided I could be? Or was I just being completely paranoid again? Hell, maybe it was both.


    Whatever it was, I kept my cool and offered a shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, you won¡¯t get any missing child reports or anything.¡± That ought to be vague enough to not actually tell him much. ¡°And I have a place to stay, with a friend.¡± It was true, I was staying in a room with Izzy, and we were definitely friends. Sisters could be friends. ¡°It¡¯s fine, really. You don¡¯t have to find a place for me. I¡¯ll be okay. And I¡¯ll be able to participate in the rest of the tournament. My family¡­ uh, they know I¡¯m here.¡± Even that much was true, obviously. One of ¡®my family¡¯ even happened to be standing directly in front of me, basically asking if my family knew where I was.


    For a moment, it looked like he might want to say something else about that, or push the issue slightly. But in the end, he simply nodded. ¡°That''s good to hear. But at the very least, make sure you take a doggy bag of this stuff.¡± His hand waved to indicate the tables still laden with food. ¡°Even if you¡¯re stuffed, I''m sure your friend would appreciate it. All this is all going to go to waste if someone doesn¡¯t take it with them. They always make far too much food for these things.¡±


    My gaze shifted that way, taking in all those platters. It looked like most of it had barely been touched, which really said a lot about how much there had been to begin with, since I had seen plenty of people walking around with full plates and even going back for seconds. It was kind of absurd just how much food was here, and now they were just going to throw out anything left?


    ¡°I think I''m going to need a bigger sack,¡± I announced after taking all that in. Then I told my father what I wanted to do. He, in turn, immediately agreed to help, and assured me that we didn''t need any sacks. Or boxes for that matter. Instead, he simply told the event organizers what we were doing. Those people, in turn, asked us to wait a moment before coming back with their own very important contribution to add to the pile of food.


    Once they were done, my dad wrapped up each of the tables with one of his silver constructs, keeping them completely steady and the food on them motionless while walking out the room with the things hovering just ahead of him. I followed suit, and both of us left the arena completely. We had seven large, silver, oval egg-shaped things leading the way. Which probably looked a bit odd. Then again, we were still in costume, so it wasn¡¯t like we were going to blend into the crowd.


    Together, the two of us took those tables of food out to the streets. Then my father put a silver disc under me, and lifted us into the air. Part of me wanted to object and insist that I could come on my own, but honestly, I was pretty tired by that point. And it felt like pushing back too much and that would be suspicious. Especially given what we were doing. So, I stayed put and allowed him to carry us over several streets until we found our way to a much dingier, definitely poorer part of the city. This area hadn¡¯t been cleaned up for the tournament, and didn¡¯t have all the fancy casinos or resorts. It was just a series of narrow streets, dingy apartment buildings, and a lot of cars that looked like they were on their last legs. Oh, and homeless people. So, so many homeless. There was a large parking lot behind what looked like some sort of empty factory, next to an actual park that had definitely seen better days. The whole place was overgrown with weeds, wherever there weren¡¯t tents. And there were a lot of tents. It looked like the city was just pushing all their homeless people to live here in this one area. Which, to be fair, was better than some cities, who just did their best to push them completely out, or imprisoned them by making ¡®not having a place to live¡¯ a criminal offense. Still, it made me sick.


    It was different, showing up in a place like this away from Detroit. At first, as we came down in the middle of the park, the people there shied away. They didn¡¯t recognize us immediately, the way they would have back home. Especially my dad. But then one of them pointed, not at Dadsmith, but at me. I heard him say something about the LEAT games. Then someone else, a much older guy with a long gray beard and a missing arm, hummed a little bit of Yakety Sax while waving his hand through the air as though to pantomime my race through the city back when I had been running away from Cu¨¦lebre. Which honestly felt like a lifetime ago. As soon as he did that, several others seemed to remember that same video and started laughing. They weren¡¯t shying away anymore, at least. Some of them came closer to see what was going on.


    ¡°Well,¡± my father announced with a cough, ¡°it looks like this is really your show now. They know you.¡± He actually sounded somewhat proud, which sent a weird feeling through my stomach.


    Right, here went nothing. Stepping that way, I extended a hand and greeted the first guy who had recognized me. He seemed somewhat taken aback, but grinned and accepted the gesture. Yet again, I was glad my mask and helmet kept my expression hidden, and that I had plenty of experience not giving away anything with my body language. Because as he greeted me, I caught a wave of his breath. It was¡­ really not great. But even just having that thought made me feel guilty, so I shoved it down as hard as I could. The guy obviously didn¡¯t have much of a chance to take care of himself. None of these people did. That was the entire freaking point about why we were here. I¡¯d asked my dad to bring us to the poorest part of town, with the most people who needed all that food. It was completely beyond stupid and wasteful to throw it away.


    More of those people came up as soon as I finished greeting the first guy, whose name was Tommy. They introduced themselves, one after another, name after name, face after face. But somehow, odd as it was, I felt like I might actually have a decent chance of remembering them.


    Finally, after taking the time to meet what had to be over a hundred people (with plenty more just staying in the background, too shy or whatever to come forward), I introduced Silversmith and asked him to show them the tables. When they saw all that food, Tommy and the rest looked both confused and overwhelmed. But I assured them it was fine. They could take all of it. And, maybe just as important as the food if not more so, there were the bags piled up at the end of one of those tables. They were made of thick, silverish material, with the ability to fold the ends over and clip them in place to seal the bag shut. Those bags were actual Touched-Tech. When food was placed in them and sealed, it would stay fresh for several days. That was what the people back in the stadium had brought out once we told them what we were doing. This way all this food wouldn¡¯t go bad if the people here didn¡¯t eat it immediately.


    The two of us stayed there and watched while all those people took the food, sorted it out, put it in the bags to keep it fresh, and thanked us. It was¡­ awkward, and I really didn¡¯t know how to react to their gratitude. This was all just¡­ the bare minimum we could possibly do. But at least it was something. These people would have some food for the next few days.


    We stayed longer than I¡¯d meant to, talking with Tommy and the rest. But eventually, it was time to go. I could barely keep my eyes open by that point. If I was going to participate in the tournament the next day, I really needed to sleep.


    As we flew away on another of those silver discs (Dad had told the people there to keep the tables too and do whatever they wanted with them), he looked at me. ¡°You¡¯re a good kid, Paintball. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re part of our city.


    ¡°And I can¡¯t wait to see how you do in the rest of these games.¡±

 Interlude 32A - Grandstand

    ¡°So what exactly makes you think we¡¯ll just sit down and eat this shit-sandwich?¡± The man who asked that didn''t exactly look, at first glance, like a typical Touched, Fell or Star. Most of them went for much fancier costumes than his own baggy jeans, two layers of shirts, and leather jacket. Even if everything he wore did have enough nasty words and phrases written across them to consistently get almost his entire form blurred out every time he appeared on television. The only real indicator that he wasn¡¯t just another typical gangbanger was the full head-covering green metal helmet he wore, with an image of a man¡¯s face wearing sunglasses etched across the front.


    At the moment, the man was sitting in an old, busted-up office chair inside a laundromat. His feet were up on one of the dirty, half-broken cardboard tables nearby, having nearly snapped the thing in half just by none-too-gently bringing his boots down on it. ¡°Personally, I ain¡¯t quite that hungry.¡±


    In truth, the man wasn¡¯t just any old thug, but was actually Sockinit, one of the few who remained out of the Easy Eights leadership Touched. It had been a rough time for the gang lately, with three of their number betraying them and taking their own loyal troops along with. Which had been followed by the sudden and unexpected death of their actual leader. Deicide was gone, and she had been one of the only people with enough power and drive to keep the remaining members of the Easy Eights together. If they should even still be called that at all after most of three of their gangs had turned traitor.


    Sockinit was one of those remaining lieutenants. The other four were scattered throughout this room. A few feet away, next to one of the dryers, stood a short man, just a few inches over five feet, in brown and green body armor with a black ski mask and football helmet covering his head. That was Landlock. Another man, almost as short and even skinnier, stood by an old pinball machine that clearly hadn¡¯t worked in years (much to his annoyance after initial excitement when he¡¯d seen it). He wore a green bodysuit with white highlights and a white ski mask, going by the name Pivotal.


    Of the two women in the group, the one leaning against the glass window next to the door was Skadi. She was an athletic-looking figure in white tiger-print pants, a black leather jacket with the emblem of a tiger¡¯s face on the front and the claw mark that indicated members of her part of their gang on the back, and a silver hard metal mask that had three small holes for her eyes and mouth. The front of the mask currently had the image of a red wolf¡¯s face etched into it, though the woman could change the pictured animal at any point. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, a tall black woman with long braided hair stood wearing nothing more than a white bodysuit. She was Angel Dust, and the majority of her costume in the field tended to be made up of various-shaped armor made out of her own power. In casual situations like this, she didn¡¯t bother. She was also the only member of their small group who wasn¡¯t covering her face at all.


    The reason the others still wore their identity-obscuring helmets and masks was the last person in the room, the one Sockinit had been addressing. Grandstand, in her circus ringmaster outfit, was perched cross legged on top of one of the washers, idly letting a small knife spin through her fingers. She was silent at first, seemingly more focused on squinting at the nearby sign telling people not to leave their wash unattended and that the facility wasn¡¯t responsible for lost or stolen items, than in either the man¡¯s question or the fact that all of them were staring at her. She appeared to be ignoring them, lost in thought.


    Skadi, making a soft growl under her breath that seemed to match that of the wolf face on her helmet, spoke sharply. ¡°You¡¯ve requested an audience, we gave it to you out of curiosity. If you fail to have even the basic decency to answer my colleague¡¯s reasonable question, I think we can be done here and move on. Whether we move on violently or amicably is entirely up to you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, what she said.¡± That was Landlock, grumbling in annoyance. ¡°I thought it was funny when you sent that message talking about taking up leadership in Deicide¡¯s place. Figured we could get a good laugh out of you trying to convince us that putting one of our biggest fucking enemies in charge of our people. But if you ain¡¯t even gonna say anything, it ain¡¯t funny anymore. It¡¯s annoying.¡± His hand closed into a fist to punch the dryer next to him. ¡°Really fucking annoying.¡±


    Angel Dust, that single unmasked figure who didn¡¯t care if this woman knew what she looked like, raised a finger toward the others for caution and peace. Then she spoke to their seemingly distracted guest. ¡°They¡¯re right, you did ask for this face to face. We assumed you would have a very compelling argument for why we should even allow the former right hand of our chief rivals and most dangerous enemy to join us, let alone lead us.¡± She coughed in disbelief at the thought.


    Finally, after idly looking at the blade she was still spinning through her fingers, Grandstand gave it a toss to one side. The weapon whistled through the air before embedding itself deep into the wall. She hopped down, landing lightly on her feet before speaking up for the first time since they had all arrived. ¡°Let¡¯s take those two questions separately, shall we? First, why I should be part of your group despite, as you put it, having been the right hand of your worst enemy. I would think it should be patently obvious, but let¡¯s spell it out anyway. You said it yourself, former right hand. He hates me as much, if not even more, than he hates all of you. I made him look bad, I put my own needs, my own anger at the one who killed my friend, over Oscuro as a whole. I did what I wanted to do, damn any of the consequences. He¡¯s angry with me because he can¡¯t let that stand. He can¡¯t allow someone to completely disregard his orders and make him look weak. That¡¯s why I need another group to join. You¡¯re already his enemies. And these recent events have left you weaker and more vulnerable. I need a group to join, people to work with, and you need more Touched to bolster your ranks. It makes perfect sense for all of us to work together. You should be well aware that our conflict was never personal on my part. I did my job.¡±


    Pivotal made a considering noise that was clearly at least slightly exaggerated while tapping his chin through the white ski mask. ¡°That sounds good and all, but if we¡¯re so weak and defenseless now, such a ripe target for your old boss to take out any time he wants to, why would you even want to throw yourself on the plate for him to snatch up too? Seems to me like the smart thing for you to do would be to get the hell out of this city entirely to stay out of his reach.¡± He paused pointedly, staring at her for a long moment before adding, ¡°Or maybe¡­¡±


    ¡°Or maybe the other smart thing to do would be to prove yourself useful to him.¡± That was Sockinit, who stood and pointed at her. ¡°You know, by tricking the remaining leaders of his biggest enemies into coming to one spot. Or by proving how stupid they are by trusting you at all, just so you can find out all our secrets and maneuver all our people into one more ambush.¡±


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re right,¡± Grandstand agreed casually while walking over to where she had thrown the knife. ¡°Tricking the last of his most dangerous enemies into an ambush might be enough to make Cu¨¦lebre forgive that sort of embarrassment, especially if I did so in a way that made him laugh. And let¡¯s be honest, getting you to make me your leader just so I could serve you up to the big guy and completely wipe out your entire gang--or what¡¯s left of it-- in one move would be something he¡¯d find utterly hilarious.¡± She let that hang in the air for a moment before giving a slight shrug of one shoulder. ¡°If he still saw you as his worst enemies. I mean, let¡¯s face it, Deicide was the biggest threat out of all of you. Not just because of her power, but her drive. She was the one who kept you all together, who made eight separate gangs work as one for so long. Until, well, she didn¡¯t anymore. Now three of your lieutenants and most of their people are gone, and Deicide herself is dead. No, I¡¯m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Cu¨¦lebre doesn¡¯t see you as a threat anymore. He figures he¡¯ll get around to wiping you out the rest of the way at some point, but it¡¯s not exactly a priority. In his mind, you¡¯re basically crippled for good. Not people to worry about, not people to devote a lot of effort toward unless you put yourselves in his way. If I served you up, he¡¯d probably laugh at me. You know, before taking my head right off for insulting him by acting like he even needed my help to deal with what¡¯s left of your little gang.¡±


    Her words were blunt, making most of the assembled group flinch or scowl. Skadi, however, gave a short, amused laugh. ¡°You do get right to the heart of the matter without holding back. I like that, at least.¡± She examined her gloved hand, making a metal claw pop out of the finger of one. ¡°Most in your situation would be a bit more diplomatic about it, if they truly wanted to join us.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°I think honesty is the best policy in this case,¡± Grandstand informed her. ¡°And the truth is, you¡¯re fucked if you stay on your own, without help. But the other part of the truth is that so am I, if I stay in the city. I can¡¯t use my power constantly, I can¡¯t be on guard all the time. I need people to back me up. And you all need someone who can help you get strong again, someone who can help make sure Cu¨¦lebre doesn¡¯t take whatever brief amount of time and effort it would take to finish the job. That¡¯s not an insult--it¡¯s not meant as an insult. It¡¯s just the truth. If we¡¯re separate, he and the rest of Oscuro can finish us off. Hell, he¡¯s got an entire new gang of allies now, with the Trendscendants. Yeah, it¡¯s a stupid name, but they¡¯re still dangerous, and they owe him plenty. He¡¯s got his own gang, the Trends, and enough friends in and favors from the Ninety-Niners to send three full fucking gangs at you and at me if he decides to finish either job. So let¡¯s be completely real on that. If we don¡¯t work together, we¡¯ll just go down that much easier. Or flee.¡±


    ¡°I mean, you¡¯re a pretty strong Touched,¡± Landlock allowed thoughtfully. ¡°And you¡¯re right, we do need as much help as we can get. Come on, I think we¡¯re all mature enough to admit that, right?¡± He gave a quick glance to his fellow Easy Eights Touched before letting out a heavy sigh. ¡°It¡¯s fucked, really. The whole situation is. We could take off, leave, go find a new place to set up shop. But I don¡¯t want to. I don¡¯t wanna let those Oscuro fucks or those traitors get away with this. That¡¯s the big thing. Cu¨¦lebre¡¯s bad enough, but Janus, Devil¡¯s Due, and Juice? Those motherfuckers need to pay. If we fall apart now, or just leave, they¡¯ll get away with turning traitor. I won¡¯t stand for that.¡±


    His words were met with murmured agreement from the rest of the group. Angel Dust gave a very soft smirk before turning to face the woman who had called them there. ¡°I guess what we¡¯re trying to say is that we know it¡¯s a risk. But under the circumstances, we need to take some big swings if we¡¯re gonna salvage this. So sure, I think we can agree to having you join us. But that isn¡¯t the same as letting you step into Deicide¡¯s spot. Joining the gang and taking over are two very different things. So why don¡¯t you give us an idea of why we¡¯d ever even consider that?¡±


    Grandstand tapped her finger against the wall next to the knife thoughtfully. She made a soft humming sound while looking back at the other woman. ¡°Well, we could get into a whole thing about which of us could beat up the others, but honestly, that''s not helpful for anyone involved. Except maybe for Cu¨¦lebre. I''m sure he''d love it if we kicked the shit out of each other until he didn''t even have to bother lifting a finger. Personally, I''d rather not make it that easy for him.¡±


    She let that sit in the air for a moment before continuing. ¡°Here''s what it actually comes down to. You each have your own parts of the gang. You lead your own smaller gangs, like governors inside a state. The ones who are left, the ones who didn''t defect with your traitor companions, and are going to be very sensitive about any side that''s left getting some boost over the others. They''re watching you and each other very closely. Take it from someone who can watch people herself without being noticed. The point is, if any single one of you takes leadership of this entire organization, the members of the other parts will think that that lieutenant¡¯s people are getting an unfair share of everything. They''ll think they''re getting screwed. Not all of them, but enough to make things even more difficult, enough to cause more problems that none of us need now.¡±


    With that, she gestured at each of them pointedly. ¡°That''s the biggest problem you all had before Deicide showed up in the first place. None of you could decide on who your leader should be. You were all fighting each other so much it let Cu¨¦lebre tear right through several other gangs just like you, groups who might have actually joined up if they weren''t wiped out before you even got as far as discussing an alliance. And even when you did, you were all still fighting each other about who would lead. Then Deicide came in and took the choice right out of your hands. The only reason you became as effective as you were for so long, before the betrayal, was because you had someone from outside each of your gangs as your leader. Deicide wasn''t from any individual part of your organization. She came in from the outside and took over. None of your separate little states could claim she was one of them. That''s what you need, an outsider strong enough to maintain control and without the baggage of being tied to one of your individual groups. You need someone who can genuinely be seen as neutral to be in charge.¡±


    Pivotal laughed. ¡°I mean, sure, a lot of what you said makes sense, I guess. But you really think our people will see you as neutral? The person who, as we sort of already mentioned, was the second in command of our worst enemy? That''s the person they''re supposed to accept as being a neutral party to lead them into battle without getting them killed or thrown in prison?¡±


    Skadi gave a soft grunt of agreement. ¡°He''s got a point. I mean, so do you, but how are we supposed to sell that our people should trust you in particular for anything? Hell, it¡¯d be a hard enough thing to make them trust you as part of the gang, let alone as the person making the big decisions. You were right when you said we really don''t need to give our people any more reason to argue or stop trusting each other. So how are they supposed to trust you, exactly?¡±


    ¡°That''s a fair question,¡± Grandstand acknowledged easily. ¡°Part of it''s going to have to be me proving myself bit by bit, moment by moment, battle by battle. But here''s the thing, you know that he sees me as a traitor. In his eyes, I already turned against him. So I might as well go all the way and fight with you, because I''ll be dead otherwise. I want you to succeed. I want you to win. I need you to win. I need you all to survive. The stronger Cu¨¦lebre gets, the harder it''s going to be to do anything in this city without his approval, without his people breathing down our necks. Do you want to know why you and your people should trust me? Because I am motivated. I''m just as motivated as any of you, and I have just as much to lose, if not more.¡±


    She pivoted on one heel, leaning against the wall. ¡°But beyond that, I know him. Like you said, I was his second in command. I was right there while he plotted against you and your people. I was right by him when he made every plan. I know how he thinks. I know how he fights. I know how he functions. Setting aside the issue of trust, because quite frankly, at some point you''re just going to have to take that leap, I am the best choice you have because without my help, he will finish dismantling your entire organization. He has all the momentum, all the allies, all the power right now. He has everything he needs to finish you off whenever he wants. You need to turn the tables. You need to punch him in the nose and make him feel it. You need to take the rug out from under him and put him on the defensive. Take his momentum away before he completely runs over you. You need to turn things around before it''s too late. I can help you do that. You don¡¯t know how your people will be able to trust me? Let them see what I can do for them. Let me show them how I can stem the bleeding your group has been suffering from ever since three of your other leaders proved how much you couldn¡¯t trust them.¡±


    The others seemed to consider her words and looked at one another for a minute before Angel Dust spoke up. ¡°So, you really think you can turn things around and give us some sort of advantage even though he''s one of the strongest Touched in the state and basically has three whole gangs he can throw at us if he wants to? And let''s not forget that several members of one of those gangs used to be our comrades, so they already know everything that we do.¡±


    Grandstand gave a soft chuckle. ¡°That would be another reason why you need an outsider to take over. Those traitors might know you, but they don''t know me. Even Cu¨¦lebre doesn''t know me as well as he thinks. And what he does know, all of you can help cover. We help each other. And I can start helping you with this.¡± Pivoting, she lashed out, kicking hard into and through the wall she had thrown the knife into. Her foot left a hole, revealing a large hidden space that had been lightly covered by a thin wall. Inside was an assortment of what looked like powerful Touched-Tech guns, several dozen of them.


    ¡°I put supplies away for a rainy day, during our heists, before Braintrust could claim them,¡± she announced while the others were staring. ¡°They should help give a bit of a boost against the Oscuro troops who have been trying to poke their noses into Eights territory. Take them back to your people.


    ¡°Or¡­ dare I say¡­ our people?¡±


    An agreement was tentatively struck. Time would tell if it would work out, but for now, the remaining Easy Eights (they really were going to have to do something about that name) lieutenants would go back to their people and tell them about the plan. From there¡­ well, they¡¯d all just have to see.


    After watching all of them leave, Setrea spoke without turning away from the front door. ¡°Well, I think that went well enough. Which means I did my part. You wanted me to take over for Deicide, and we¡¯re on our way to that. I¡¯m keeping the gang intact. Now it¡¯s your turn. You said you had information about¡­ my world. And that you¡¯d explain how you even know I¡¯m from another world.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s easy enough to answer, Setrea,¡± a voice replied casually, as a figure emerged from a hidden door next to one of the dryers. And the figure wasn¡¯t alone. Even as Setrea noticed the reflection in the glass and spun with an audible gasp, she saw that the other woman was indeed accompanied by her own ghost-like companion, a Manifestation just like Setrea''s own Alistae (who gave her the ability to shift peoples'' attention) and Deunmar (who granted her brief invulnerability). This ghost was another of the sixteen champions. Piend, the Blacksmith and Tinkerer. This woman¡­ this woman was Manifesting, just like Setrea did. Which meant¡­ which meant¡­


    ¡°I know about your world,¡± the ¡®Touched¡¯ known as Glitch, leader of Braintrust, informed her, ¡°because it¡¯s my world too.¡±

 Interlude 32B - Setrea And Fideila

    For a long few seconds that seemed to stretch off into the entire minutes or longer, Setrea just stood there and stared at those two, Glitch and the ghostly figure of Piend. Dozens of thoughts bounced through her head in those moments, but almost none of them were in any way coherent. This was absurd, impossible. She had been trying to find someone else from her world for almost the entire time she had been here. And now it turned out that one of her people had been this close for this whole time? She had been on both sides of conflict with this woman on many occasions over the years. But she¡¯d had no idea, none at all, that Glitch of all people had been someone from her world. One of the other gang leaders, someone she had interacted with repeatedly. Maybe not on a daily or even weekly basis, but certainly enough that some part of her thought she should have been able to tell somehow. How could Glitch really be from her world?


    Okay, maybe it made sense, sort of, in hindsight. Piend had never been one of the champions that she paid that much attention to, but she knew that he granted the ability to create wondrous devices, and she was pretty sure he had some other ability over technology. That was where Glitch¡¯s power came from. She wasn''t a Touched at all, just like Setrea wasn''t. They were both using a very different power source.


    All this time, all the work she had done, all the places she had gone in vain attempts to follow any possible hint of people from her world, and Glitch was here the whole time. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to react? She was angry, overjoyed, confused, and so many other things as well.


    When she finally found her voice after the other woman had stood there patiently upon dropping that bomb, the first words that came out of Setrea¡¯s mouth were a series of curses in their own language, a language she had barely spoken ever since she devoted herself to firmly learning English. She only spoke to herself once in a while to remind herself of the words and to give herself some sort of tie back to her own world. But now? Now the swearing came quickly and easily. She said words that would have made her father force her to chew an entire Kadda feather if he''d actually heard even half of what came out of her mouth. Words that the younger her definitely wasn''t supposed to know yet at the age that she had found herself lost on this world.


    When she heard all that, Glitch chuckled softly. At the moment, she was wearing the face of a redhead with short hair, a nose ring, and a very tan complexion. But Setrea knew enough to understand that that didn¡¯t actually mean anything. That special choker she had could disguise the other woman to look like anyone at any time. It was why she didn¡¯t bother using a mask.


    After that brief chuckle, the woman spoke up. ¡°I can''t tell you how nice it is to hear someone else speaking a language from our homeworld. Even if it''s not the one I grew up with. I understand enough to know that none of those were exactly nice words, but still.¡± She paused as though thinking of how to say the next part correctly, then started in Setrea¡¯s childhood language. The words were just a little slow and grammatically imprecise enough to make it clear that she was not a native speaker of it. ¡°I grew up in a place very far from where I believe your home was, if I remember my old geography and languages well enough to make a rough estimation. But at least we are still of the same world.¡±


    Setrea¡¯s head finally shook quickly as she found her voice with a blurted (in English), ¡°No, this is a trick of some sort. You used some sort of technology to find out about me and a few things about where I''m from. You aren''t really from my world, this is a stupid game you''re playing or something. You''re trying to get me to partner with you so you''re pretending we actually have that much in common. You found out about Manifestations and you created something to project an image of the one that matched your power the closest.¡± Yes, she knew what she was saying sounded absurd, of course. But then again, it was equally absurd to think that this could be real. There was no possible chance she could actually be standing in front of someone from her world who happened to be someone she had regularly interacted with on this one, was there?


    Glitch raised an eyebrow and seemed to think about how exactly to respond to that. In the end, she settled on, ¡°I suppose I could try to tell you everything I remember about our world, but it sounds like you would simply decide all that information was something I gained through technology somehow. A device to read your mind, or to actually view that world. Like a camera pointed at other universes. It''s not impossible, of course. I could have created any number of things that could have given me this information. So let''s try something else first. Why don''t you Manifest Alistae? Or maybe Deunmar. You¡¯ve recently managed to acquire her as well, right? I assume that¡¯s how you¡¯ve managed to give yourself those moments of invulnerability, at least.¡± Her fingers snapped abruptly. ¡°Sorry, you do know how to Manifest in a way to make them visible to others, right? I¡¯m not sure how much experience you had before ending up here. I know it¡¯s been a long time for you.¡± The woman dropped her gaze, taking a breath before looking up. ¡°You were still very much a child when we first arrived, weren¡¯t you? So alone, so--I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry you had to go through that without anyone. But I am truly here now and I am from the same world as you. I¡¯d like to prove that. Can you Manifest one of your Champions so that we may see them both?¡± Her hand gestured toward Piend, the small, waifish figure with goggles almost as large as her entire face and an apron full of both tools and snacks. She was standing nearby while watching this interaction closely through the goggles, which had a different assortment and number of lenses covering each eye. A number that changed often as different lenses extended and retracted from the goggles.


    A multitude of possible responses jumped through the woman''s mind then. There was so much she could say, so much she wanted to say. In the end, however, she settled on following the request. Maybe this was all manipulative nonsense, but she could start down the line of proving it one way or another simply by Manifesting Alistae. He had been a part of her life for much longer than Deunmar. It was easier to sustain him, especially if she was going to make him visible for Glitch. Or whatever her real name was. Did she have a name from the old world? Why was Setrea even asking herself that, as though she actually believed this woman was from there?


    Just like that, the ghostly violet figure of her first and strongest Champion appeared. Alistae, the entertainer turned assassin in his colorful clothes and near-constant cheerful smile. He had always been the one to help keep the Champions together, soothing their arguments, ensuring their ire was pointed in the proper direction. The Champions, sixteen in all, had led the war against the monstrous Edeliens who had invaded their world. The last, desperate move of those invaders, before they could be entirely destroyed, had been to transform the sixteen Champions into the gigantic statues which now served as the only safe settlements for the people of that world. The energies given off by those statues kept the remaining Edeliens away. And thus the Champions, though trapped in those giant statuesque forms, continued to protect their people. Both in that way, and in the ability of some people to Manifest ghostly duplicate versions of them to make use of their power. Those like Alistae, Deunmar, Piend, or even Reahandu, the warrior barbarian whose statue form Setrea¡¯s home had been built upon. The Champions protected their people. And now, perhaps, they would be able to show Setrea the truth about this confusing situation.


    To that end, she looked at her old friend and nodded toward Piend, guessing what Glitch wanted. Then Setrea held her breath a bit, watching as the two ghost Champions approached one another. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure how she would feel about what this proved, until both figures extended their hands to one another and shook. They shook hands, then pulled each other into an embrace. They were hugging, Piend and Alistae. Because it was Piend, it had to be. Up until that very moment, she had told herself that even if the two interacted physically, it wouldn¡¯t really prove anything. It would just mean that Glitch had managed to create a device that made some copy of Piend that could do that. But seeing it, witnessing their interaction, made her know better. This was the real Piend. And if it was, if that was truly one of the champions, then Glitch was¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± she found herself whispering softly, voice somewhat awed and confused. It was too much to take in. Her eyes snapped that way, staring at the woman. ¡°You¡¯re really from home.¡±


    Reaching up to the choker around her neck, Glitch hit a couple hidden buttons there before tugging it off. As she did so, her face changed to what would appear to be Latina woman on this world, though her hair was a dark green. She also appeared to be about five years or so older than Setrea, at a best guess, which would put her barely into her late twenties. ¡°The name is Fideila. I must say, it''s a pleasure to finally meet you.¡±


    After a very brief pause while she was still trying to comprehend this situation, Setrea introduced herself as well, though her voice sounded eerie and unnatural even to her own ears. She felt strange, almost like she was having an out of body experience. Her skin was tingling, and there was a dull whistle in the back of her head. This was real. After all this time, she was really meeting someone from her old world. How was she--what could she say to her right then?


    Glitch--or Fideila (Fih-Die-Luh) seemed to understand. Probably because she was feeling much the same, even if she¡¯d had more time to process the whole thing. And speaking of having more time-- ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Setrea finally put in, ¡°what happened? How did--why didn¡¯t you ever say anything before? You had to realize--when did you figure out I was--and what made you¡­¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Clearly understanding what the woman was trying to ask, Fideila exhaled slowly while holding up a hand. ¡°Okay, first, I had a few suspicions, but I wasn¡¯t sure you were from the old world until you started using Deunmar recently. That pushed me over the edge. I thought maybe three were brought over to this world ten years ago, but I wasn¡¯t sure. And to be honest, I was sort of expecting adults at the time. The fact that you were clearly a child and took time to make a name for yourself did¡­ a lot to throw me off. Manifesting a second Champion did the trick.¡± She gave Setrea a clearly sympathetic look at that. ¡°You must¡¯ve been going through a lot then, for another Champion to present themselves to you like that. I¡¯m sorry about your friend.¡±


    An image of Jolene Iverson¡¯s face passed through Setrea¡¯s mind, making her hands tighten. The fact that she hadn¡¯t been the one to rip that Whamline fuck¡¯s throat out with those hands made her¡­ wait, something the other woman had said just then caught her attention, and she blinked that way before frowning in confusion. ¡°You said--the way you said--were you here before I was? How long were you on this world? I thought--I just assumed you came here at the same time.¡±


    Rather than answer immediately, Fideila gestured to the door. ¡°You wanna come over to my place for a bit so we can talk? I have Paalcher buns cooling. They¡¯re not quite as good as the ones I remember my mother making back home, and the ingredients are a bit different since¡­ well, different world and all. But they¡¯re as close as I can make them. I thought you might like to taste something--uh, maybe not all that familiar by now, but something from back home anyway.¡±


    Paalcher buns. Actual Paalcher buns, or at least as close as they could get on this world. The thought made Setrea¡¯s stomach growl loudly. She had never really learned to cook back home, so other than having lingering memories of tastes that she couldn''t experience anymore, she had no actual ties to food from her world. The mere thought of actually being able to eat something from her childhood made the woman willingly set aside all those questions she had and head out of the laundromat. Fideila took her to a car and they drove across the city together. Eventually, they reached a small, unassuming house on the outskirts of Detroit. It was in a normal, average neighborhood without any indication that it was the home of one of the city¡¯s Fell-Touched leaders. Particularly one who controlled the entire Touched-Tech trade in the state. There was nothing to indicate any of that. Probably because this wasn''t really where she lived. Even now, in this situation, Fideila certainly wasn''t going to drive Setrea right to her own front door. This house was obviously just one of many she probably kept around. No doubt if anyone came to this house after tonight, there would never be any sign of Fideila, or any other member of Braintrust. She wasn''t stupid enough to believe that the woman was actually giving away her real address.


    Either way, they made it inside, and she immediately smelled the cooling buns. It made her stomach practically jump for joy, while she started salivating. Yet, at the same time, she also felt a pang of sadness. The last time she had any sort of food from home had been over a decade earlier. Now, smelling this, she remembered her father and her friends. She remembered home. It was honestly a lot to be feeling in that moment. And those feelings grew even stronger and more confusing when Fideila took one of the buns and held it out to her. They were essentially a sweetroll with bits of fruit and caramel inside. Well, not really caramel, but it was the closest flavor and texture that was available here, so it was what the other woman had used. But saying it was a sweet roll with fruit and caramel was misleading, because there was more to it. The bread itself was a type that she had never been able to find any analogue to here on this world. And the fruits were a mix of sweet and spicy. It was all just a perfect treat, one she had loved as a child and had given up any hope of tasting again. But here she was, taking a bite of what was honestly an incredibly close approximation.


    Before she knew it, Setrea had eaten all of that roll, as well as another one. Only after devouring both did she slow down and stare intently at the other woman. ¡°You were going to explain.¡± Her voice made it clear she didn''t want any more distractions. She wanted answers.


    Fideila¡¯s head bowed in agreement before glancing over to the other side of the room where both of their Manifested champions were still interacting. It looked as though they were engaged in their own intense conversation, not that there were any audible words. She smiled at the sight of them briefly before focusing on Setrea. ¡°The truth is, about twelve years ago, when I was in my mid-teens, I was an apprentice under a man on our world named Hostem. He was the one who taught me to Manifest Piend, and helped me learn everything about building and creating. Master Hostem had a plan to get rid of all the remaining Edeliens. He would open a portal to another world and send them through, banishing all of the monsters once and for all, so we could all be safe.¡±


    Setrea took that in with a grunt before looking around. ¡°This world,¡± she realized. ¡°He was going to send those monsters to this world, wasn''t he? That''s what created the connection.¡±


    Fideila gave a short nod at that. ¡°Yes, though it wasn''t anything personal. He just picked a world at random. He didn''t know anything about these people, he just wanted to save ours, and give our world a chance to recover. I wasn''t his only apprentice. He had a dozen of them, all of us working to help him realize his dream. After many mistakes and problems, we finally managed to establish a connection with this world. I was the youngest member of the team, barely more than a mascot, really. I helped in any way I could. I wanted to be a part of saving the world. But when we made the connection, something went wrong. All of us were sucked through. It wasn''t supposed to happen. The portals weren''t supposed to do anything but sit there and allow us to look through them, to see if sending those monsters here would work. Instead, they pulled us in, and there was nothing we could do to escape or stop it. Even our equipment was sucked right through those portals.¡±


    Setrea opened and shut her mouth, absorbing that. ¡°So there''s more of you here? Is that all of Braintrust, or just most of them? Or did some of you scatter to other gangs?¡± She was already trying to decide if any other powers she knew about could have secretly been Manifestations.


    Fideila, however, shook her head. ¡°No, none of them. I was the only one who survived the trip through the portal. As I said, we were still working on them. They were experimental and certainly weren¡¯t supposed to physically drag us through. When I arrived here, most of our equipment was destroyed, and Master Hostem and all my fellow apprentices were dead. Most of them were turned inside out. I was alone on this strange world, just like you were when you first arrived. I really can''t tell you how sorry I am about that.¡±


    Setrea belatedly realized why she was apologizing. ¡°It was you. Two years later, after you arrived here, you¡¯re the reason I was pulled through, aren''t you? You did something.¡±


    With a visible wince, Fideila confirmed, ¡°I was trying to go home. I spent two years putting our broken machines back together as well as I could. I jury-rigged most of it with help from Piend. I thought it would be enough to just get me back where I belonged. But when I turned it on, it created the portals in random locations throughout the city, not right where I was standing. I screwed that up. Three people from here ended up going through to ours, but none of them were me. And you ended up being pulled through to this one. That was the last thing those machines ever did. they melted down completely after that. There''s nothing left of them. I''ve been trying to find--build other, better ways of getting home ever since.¡±


    Setrea grunted under her breath, trying to decide how she felt about all of that. In the end, she decided there was no point to figuring it out right then. Instead, she replied, ¡°That''s why you set up this whole thing with demanding all Touched-Tech goes through your group. So you can check it and see if any can help with your plan to make a device to get home.¡±


    Fideila offered a slight shrug. ¡°The Ministry also appreciates having that sort of control, but yes, that is my part of it. It''s been helpful in a lot of ways, but it''s taken a long time to get anywhere. It turns out, it''s very difficult to make a portal to get us home.¡±


    ¡°But what does that have to do with why you wanted me to take over the Easy Eights?¡± Setrea asked flatly. ¡°How could that help?¡±


    There was a brief moment of silence before the answer came. ¡°Honestly, I just want you to be in a position of power over a large group of Touched, to get them all in the right place at the right time. Because I finally figured out how to make the portal work, with some help from that Tech-Touched from Avant-Guard, even if she has no idea what she did. She thinks she was only working on something to allow surgeons to operate through someone else using special gloves, but that was more about creating something that can link multiple living beings to a machine and create a good connection, a connection the machine can use.¡±


    ¡°A connection what machine can use?¡± Setrea found herself asking, even as she mentally reeled.


    ¡°The one I¡¯ve been fixing this whole time,¡± Fideila informed her. ¡°The one to get us home and finish this whole thing. That¡¯s what I was missing for so long, what I didn¡¯t understand.  We need to use this world¡¯s best resource, the Touched. We need to use their power, put them all in the right place at the right time and let my machine drain them. You see, we use the Touched in the city, as many as we can get. Fells, Stars, Sell, all of them. We drain their energy, leave them powerless, and then use that energy to create a portal to go home. And we complete Master Hostem¡¯s goal at the same time.¡±


    That made Setrea do a double-take. ¡°What do you mean, complete his goal? I thought you said he wanted to send all the monsters from our world to this one.¡±


    Fideila gave a wide smile. ¡°Precisely, and that is exactly what will happen. We will draw as many Touched as possible to one location here in the city. My machine will drain them, taking enough energy to send us home. At the same time, all of the Edeliens will be sucked away from our world for good. They''ll be here, the two of us will be home, and our world will be safe once and for all.


    ¡°Isn''t that fantastic?¡±

 Wild 33-01 (Interlude Arc)

    The sound of a wild, feminine scream filled the air, echoing loudly and clashing against what had been pristine silence moments earlier. Startled birds, snapped out of sleep a mere few minutes before they would have begun their typical morning songs to one another, went tearing out of nearby trees in every direction. A second later, both their cries and the initial scream were interrupted by a loud splash. The source of the scream, and the subsequent splash, was a girl who had violently flung herself off the balcony of a beautiful three-story cabin and down into the waiting crystal clear water of the lake that it sat on the edge of. Fish and birds alike were sent scattering in a wild panic thanks to the unexpected and loud intrusion that thoroughly shattered their ordinary sleeping routine. One they weren¡¯t too happy about, judging by the sharp, annoyed bird calls and trilling whistles that started back up as soon as the initial explosion of noise had settled down enough.


    Unfortunately for the birds, it was an interruption that wasn''t going to end any time soon, considering the girl immediately surfaced while bellowing loudly over the sound of their annoyance, ¡°Yeah! How do you like it!? How do you like someone fucking with you while you''re trying to sleep!? Is it fun when someone else won''t shut the fuck up and leave you alone? Maybe you''d like it better if I stuck my head right next to your nest and started whistling before the sun has even come up, does that sound good!? It must, since you keep fucking doing it so much!¡±


    She might have gone on in that vein even longer, but the sound of someone else clearing their throat from the nearby dock drew the girl''s attention that way. ¡°Sierra,¡± Paige Banners started while sitting down the fishing pole she had been holding, ¡°you do realize none of them can understand anything you''re saying, right? Also, we don''t even need that much sleep anyway.¡±


    Casually treading water, Sierra offered her sister a shrug. ¡°First, you can''t say for sure that none of them are TONIs. And evil ones at that. It would explain why they get such sick joy out of fucking with my sleep. And just because we don''t need that much doesn''t mean I don''t like it. This is supposed to be a vacation, right? I¡¯m just trying to enjoy it before we go back to work.¡±


    Kicking her legs back and forth as she sat on the edge of that dock, Paige gave a soft snort. ¡°You could try just sleeping inside, where it''s soundproof, like Irelyn. You''re the one who chose to sleep out on the balcony where you could hear everything, even though you knew there were a bunch of wild animals who were actually living here first. Honestly, that one is definitely on you.¡±


    Swimming over that way, Sierra pulled herself up and out of the water. She was wearing old running shorts and a simple tee-shirt, both of which were quite thoroughly soaked by that point. Shaking herself off, which she made sure to do in the other girl¡¯s direction as much as possible, Sierra primly replied, ¡°Hey, I have fun my own way, you can just go ahead and have fun yours.¡±


    Raising an eyebrow, Paige mused, ¡°And your way of having fun on vacation is starting a feud with a bunch of wild animals who don¡¯t know any better anyway? There must be something on TV you can watch instead. Or go for a walk--wait, scratch that second one, you¡¯ll find a way to pick a fight with a deer or something and turn it into a cartoon. Deer season, Biolem season. Stick to entertaining yourself with technology. At least that stuff isn¡¯t actually alive.¡± She paused before quietly amending, ¡°Usually.¡±


    Sierra, however, shook her head. ¡°I like being outside in nature like this. It¡¯s pretty. I mean, have you seen that mountain range over there? It¡¯s not as good as the actual Sierras from that poster in the mall, but still. No, I like it here. I like taking walks in the woods without any deer feuds. Even if that does sound fun. These birds and I, we just have to come to an understanding about what¡¯s acceptable behavior at five in the morning, that¡¯s all. They¡¯ll get the point eventually. Or they won¡¯t and I can just keep jumping off the building and into the water. Seriously, Cassidy¡¯s right about one thing, that is fun. No wonder they keep letting people dare them into it.¡± Her head tilted slightly as a thought clearly occurred before adopting a curious expression. ¡°Hey, do you think--¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not daring you to jump off this building or any others,¡± Paige flatly interrupted. ¡°I''ve been trying to get Cassidy to stop doing that. What makes you think I want to encourage her doppelganger?¡±


    ¡°Spoilsport,¡± Sierra grumbled before gesturing, ¡°well I¡¯m definitely awake now. Think I¡¯ll head down to that place they laughingly call ¡®town¡¯ and pick up some breakfast while Irelyn¡¯s asleep. You gonna come, or keep trying to get food the hard way?¡± Her hand waved at the fishing pole.


    ¡°I better go with,¡± Paige murmured, glancing to the cabin itself briefly. This was where Irelyn had wanted to bring them. Not just to pick up the unregistered Incogniter so Sierra could easily disguise herself, but also just to get away from Detroit and¡­ everything there for awhile. They were here for a real vacation. One that none of them were that eager to get away from anytime soon, if they were being honest. Which was just as well, given that disguise tool they¡¯d come for wasn¡¯t actually here in the cabin anyway, as it turned out. Instead, there happened to be a man who lived up in one of the other cabins further into the mountains. He had access to Incogniters and would sell them for a certain price, to people he trusted. In this case, ¡®trusted¡¯ meant doing him favors. He wasn¡¯t content to simply sell them for money on its own. You had to earn the right to even try to buy them, especially if you were a known Star-Touched. Irelyn was working on that. Paige and Sierra had both tried to convince her to let them help, but she insisted they stay out of it. The only thing she would promise them was that the favors were nothing illegal or bad. She was dealing with it, and in a couple days, they would have what they needed. For now, they had been given firm instructions to spend their time relaxing and definitely not getting into trouble.


    It was that last instruction, about not getting into trouble, that clearly convinced Paige to go with Sierra for the breakfast trip. Not that Paige was entirely certain how the other girl might manage to find a way to take what should be a quick visit to a ¡®town¡¯ so small that the combination diner and grocery store was the most happening place within a hundred miles and turn it into some sort of international incident. But she also didn¡¯t exactly want to find out. Sierra could be pretty creative when it came to that sort of thing.


    ¡°What about Haley?¡± Paige asked after picking herself up so the two of them could head for the red jeep that was one of at least four different vehicles her adoptive father had kept at the cabin for trips into town or through the surrounding area. One of those other particular vehicles, a four-wheeler ATV, had been missing since the day before thanks to the girl in question. She was helping Irelyn with those ¡®favors¡¯ the man with the Incogniter was asking for. Which, honestly, made both Biolem girls feel a bit awkward. They barely knew this Haley girl at all, yet she was helping Irelyn do things specifically to get a piece of rare, expensive Touched-Tech just for them?


    But the truth was, while they might have barely known her, she had been Irelyn¡¯s best friend for years. They were close enough, even after being away from each other for so long, that Irelyn had actually told the other woman the truth about Paige, Sierra, and that whole situation. Even the part about who their creator was. With their permission, of course. That was a whole thing.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t heard anything yet,¡± Sierra informed her sister while cutting in front of her to take the driver¡¯s seat. She pivoted long enough to stick her tongue out, then situated herself and started the jeep. ¡°Speaking of, did you get Irelyn to tell you what she went off to do in the first place?¡±


    Paige didn¡¯t answer until she¡¯d crossed around the front of the jeep to climb in the passenger side. Then her head shook. ¡°No. I think Irelyn¡¯s convinced that if we actually know anything about what they¡¯re doing and why, it¡¯ll be easier for us to try to involve ourselves and actually help out.¡±


    ¡°God forbid we contribute to getting something that¡¯s specifically meant to help me blend in and not attract a bunch of attention from people who might want to know why I look like the daughter of your parents¡¯ business rivals,¡± Sierra muttered while pulling the jeep around the wide dirt lot in front of the building so they could head for the actual road. ¡°She is aware that we¡¯re not actually invalids, right?¡±


    With a small cough, Paige assured her, ¡°She knows, and she trusts us. More than I ever expected her to, actually. She just wants us to take an actual vacation, even if it¡¯s not as much of one for her. And yes, I tried to point out that she needs it as much as we do, but she just said she¡¯s been asleep for weeks while we dealt with everything, and that this is the least she can do.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The two Biolem girls were silent for a minute, while the jeep made it to the paved road and began to take the several mile trip into town. If Irelyn woke up while they were gone, she would contact them over the private chat room they used with each other. They¡¯d already given her a new, untraceable phone she could use to access that. It was part of the whole ¡®learning to be a real family and start communicating with each other¡¯ thing that this vacation was supposed to lead to.


    And what a family it was. They had Paige, a biological robot with the copied personality of a girl whose gradual Abyssal-related death had been sped up by a father in the process of attempting to save her life; Sierra, the other biological robot who had been created to take Paige¡¯s place because she wasn¡¯t loyal enough but ended up betraying him herself; Irelyn, the actual biological daughter of the couple who bought Paige because she wasn¡¯t a good enough daughter for them; and Haley/Echo, the Sell-Touched who had been Irelyn¡¯s best friend for years before abandoning her for a decade because she wanted to make real money instead of being a superhero. That last one was a bit of a surprise to all of them, even Haley herself. They had expected her to leave, to go back to her own life as soon as she knew Irelyn was awake and able to take care of herself again. But after hearing the truth about what was going on, she¡¯d actually insisted on sticking around and being part of things. Not that any of them knew exactly what being part of things entailed, or where this whole situation was going to go. Right now, it meant she was here, helping to get the Incogniter.


    Once they were about halfway to town, driving along that smooth mountain road, Sierra spoke casually, ¡°So, you gonna watch all the matches today, or just the ones that they¡¯re involved in?¡±


    Blushing just a little, Paige turned to look out the window with a muttered comment about people who really needed to have a vacation. ¡°I¡¯m not sure which ones they¡¯re involved with yet, or when they are. Cassidy¡¯s supposed to send everyone a list later this morning, as soon as they know.¡±


    She still couldn¡¯t believe Cassidy had managed to get themself brought in to participate in the LEAT games, though it really shouldn¡¯t have surprised her so much. And honestly, much as she grumbled and gave them a hard time about it, she was actually proud of Cassidy. After seeing how well they¡¯d pulled off that exhibition, there was a part of Paige that really couldn¡¯t wait to see what else they could do in this tournament. Even if that part was in a life and death struggle with the part of her that wanted to strangle Cassidy for putting themself at risk in so many ways.


    ¡°Well make sure you share when they let you know,¡± Sierra insisted while pulling the jeep into the parking lot of the diner-store. ¡°I¡¯m gonna see if there¡¯s any good popcorn in this place so we can have some snacks while we watch my twin make total fools out of all those other competitors.¡±


    There were only five other buildings on this ¡®main street¡¯ of the town. One was a combination post office and police station, another was a gas station and service center, a barber shop/salon with one wall entirely taken up by shelves of books and DVDs that could be checked out like a library, a fish and hunting shop, and the so-called city hall. That last one amounted to a slightly oversized house where the mayor lived upstairs and did his work alongside a couple clerks downstairs. There were several houses and cabins spread out a bit randomly through the hills beyond this main street, but the entire permanent population without counting seasonal visitors amounted to a total of just forty-three people. That also included nine children and three teens.


    Paige and Sierra might have made a point of finding out everything they could about this place before accepting Irelyn¡¯s firm suggestion that they stay here and relax for a week or two. Sure, it was unlikely that this small town was hiding some huge world-ending secret for them to trip over, but given the way their lives had worked up to this point (even counting the fact that Sierra herself was technically only a couple months old), it definitely wasn¡¯t completely out of the question. It was better to be safe than find themselves caught utterly flatfooted when some evil, murderous Fell-Touched decided now was the time to turn the rest of Peach Pitt, North Dakota¡¯s citizens into his slaves. It wouldn¡¯t exactly be the first time something like that had happened to a small town. The big cities were largely protected by full Star-Touched teams, but the much more rural areas were a different story. Sometimes Fells could take over and rule over the people there relatively unbothered for months, or even longer depending on how strong their gang was, how long they had to set up defenses, or how important the area was. Not that every big city was completely immune to that either, considering what had happened to Atlanta. That was a whole mess.


    The point was, it was better to be informed about who all these people were, just in case. And it definitely wasn¡¯t simply a case of Paige being pathologically incapable of simply trusting that any given place she happened to spend more than thirty or so minutes in wasn¡¯t automatically going to be infested by evil bastards who wanted to enslave people and create their own personal fiefdom to rule over, no matter how many muttered comments Sierra and Irelyn made to the contrary.


    Stepping out of the jeep and stretching, Paige gave a short wave to the old man lounging in front of the bait and hunting shop next door. His feet were up on a broken crate and he had his hat down over his eyes, yet he casually returned the wave. His name was Tanner Felch, and at seventy-two he was the second oldest man in town aside from Mayor Maurice Gibbens at seventy-nine. Maurice, who lived in ¡®city hall¡¯ across the street, had been mayor for the past three decades, to the point that they rarely bothered to even hold real elections because none of the town¡¯s other forty-two official citizens cared to run for the job. It was just that sort of town. Though eight-year-old Brandi Inna had been making threats about coming for it next time elections came around, and she had charisma to spare.


    As the two of them headed into the general store/diner (it was called simply ¡®Food¡¯ as far as they had been able to determine), Paige noticed a certain four-wheeler ATV parked along the side of the building. She was about to point it out to Sierra through their shared chat room, when the door ahead of them opened and Haley Torres came out carrying a bag of supplies. ¡°Well hey,¡± she promptly greeted them. ¡°You guys just bored out of your skull this morning, hungry, or both?¡±


    Before Paige could do more than open her mouth, Sierra promptly cut in with an easy, ¡°Both, definitely both. Come on, you¡¯re not disappearing again already, right? You should eat with us.¡±


    Haley seemed to consider briefly before shrugging. ¡°Sure, fine, I could have another coffee and steal some bacon or something. Let me put my bag away then I¡¯ll be right there. Irelyn still sleeping?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll take something back for her,¡± Paige replied, casting a glance back the way they¡¯d come. At least she assumed the older girl was still unconscious, considering there was no message in their internal chat room, and she was pretty sure that would be the first thing Irelyn did if she woke up and found them missing. It was¡­ a weird feeling, knowing that there was a person out there who would immediately start to worry about her the second she disappeared.


    Shaking that thought off, she followed Sierra into the building and greeted Tess, the waitress who doubled as the checkout clerk for the store part. The cheerful, thirty-something blonde woman guided them to a table (there were only six of them here and three were taken up by regulars) before promptly heading off to get their coffee. They didn¡¯t even have to say anything, Tess just remembered what they¡¯d ordered the other two times they¡¯d visited over these past couple days.


    Before they could actually get their coffee, however, a sound at the door made Paige turn a bit to look that way. Haley was there, beckoning for them to join her quickly. There was a look on the dark-haired Latina¡¯s face that made it clear this wasn¡¯t a joke, or time to mess around. The two Biolems exchanged glances, then straightened up and headed that way without another word.


    By the time they made it outside, Haley was already over by her ATV, but her attention was on a convoy of dark vans that had pulled up outside of City Hall across the street. Several men in dark green suits with green sunglasses were milling around talking to each other, while a very large figure, standing just over seven feet tall and very wide, was just ducking through the doorway of the house to step in.


    ¡°Strange tourists,¡± Sierra murmured as they joined the other woman.


    ¡°Not tourists,¡± Haley replied, voice flat. ¡°I know those guys. If they¡¯re here, we have a problem. Because they¡¯d only be here for one thing: they know what¡¯s out in the forest.¡±


    ¡°In the forest?¡± Paige frowned, giving the woman a quick look. ¡°You wanna fill the rest of us in?¡±


    After a very brief pause, Haley let out a breath. ¡°Yeah, you should probably know. Have you heard of Galileo¡¯s Adherents?¡±


    ¡°That group of Tech-Touched who want to fly to Mars or something?¡± Sierra shrugged. ¡°Sure, but now you¡¯re gonna say they live out here?¡±


    Haley gave a wobbly hand ¡®sort of¡¯ gesture. ¡°They don¡¯t live here, their actual base is on an island. But they¡¯ve got a¡­ call it a backdoor out here. They use the forest for a lot of different things, including good meat and fresh air. I did a little work for them a couple times. Met them when I stayed in that cabin for a few weeks right after I ahh¡­ left town. Figured Irelyn would never guess I¡¯d stay in her family¡¯s cabin. That--that¡¯s a whole thing. Anyway, most of the work I did for them involved making sure those guys over there didn¡¯t ever get this close. Let¡¯s just say those guys want to take everything the Adherents made and use it themselves. They¡¯ve been traveling all over the country looking for their base. If they¡¯ve made it here, then¡­ then that¡¯s bad.¡± She paused again before muttering a curse. ¡°I owe the Adherents a lot for helping me get on my feet. I gotta help them out. You head up to the cabin and get--¡±


    ¡°Too late,¡± Sierra murmured. There were several of the green-suited men crossing the street as they came straight toward them. ¡°I guess they noticed we aren¡¯t from around here. So what do you think, play it dumb or kick their asses right out of town?¡±


    With a snort, Haley offered a quiet, ¡°Babe, I¡¯m good at one of those things.


    ¡°And it¡¯s sure not playing dumb.¡±

 Wild 33-02 (Interlude Arc)

    As the men in green suits approached them, Haley quietly told the other two to let her handle it. Then she put on a broad smile while stepping over to meet the man partway. ¡°Well, you guys sure don''t look like you''re from around here. Did you hear about the fishing too? Because to be honest I''m starting to think it was all a bunch of hogwash. We were out on the lake all day yesterday and barely got a nibble. We¡¯re thinking of trying some other location. You know any?¡±


    The three men exchanged glances before the one in front, a tall muscular figure who looked like he should have been wrestling on pay-per-view instead of being stuffed into that suit, spoke flatly. ¡°What''s your name? What are their names? How long have you been up here? Do you know anyone else here? You the only ones here or are there more of you in the store?¡± The way he spoke, it was quite clear that he was accustomed to being answered promptly. This was a man whom people learned very quickly to listen to and obey. If not, they paid for it, one way or another.


    With a simple, na?ve-sounding laugh, Haley held up both hands in surrender. ¡°Hey, hey, that''s a lot of questions to come all at once without even any introductions. Isn''t it customary to be a bit more friendly when you''re out in the backwoods like this? Let''s try again. Hi!¡± Her voice was chipper, sounding every bit like the clueless tourist she was portraying herself to be. ¡°The name''s Bella. Those two are my nieces, Kadie and Molly. Their parents are on a cruise, and I thought I''d get some bonding time with them while we have the chance. You should have seen how much they complained when they found out the cabin doesn''t have any Wi-Fi. Kids these days, right?¡±


    The tall man grunted noncommittally before his eyes shifted to look at the other two girls behind Haley. He seemed to consider them very briefly. Then his head tilted as though he was listening to something before speaking again, just as firmly as before. ¡°Okay, then let''s see some real identification, Ms. Bella Whatever. And answer the other questions. What made you come up here in the first place? How did you hear about this lake, who told you about it?¡± He made no move to actually accept her offered handshake, or even acknowledge it in any way. The two men behind him, meanwhile, took a few steps to either side as though making sure to cut off any retreat in any direction other than back toward the shop itself, where they would be contained.


    With another easy chuckle, the woman replied, ¡°What are you, a bunch of cops? Wait, is this about some sort of presidential visit? You guys are sort of dressed like secret service or something, but I''m pretty sure they wear black. I mean, don''t get me wrong, I don''t mind the green at all. It looks pretty spiffy. And since you''re out in the wilderness, it totally fits. That''s it, isn''t it? You''re with the secret service and those are your wilderness suits. That''s so cool. I¡¯m-¡±


    She didn''t get any further before the big man abruptly snapped his hand out very quickly to catch her wrist. He was obviously tired of being what small amount of patient he could have claimed to be. People were supposed to do what he said as soon as he said it, and answer his questions as soon as he asked them. This was not a man who was at all accustomed to repeating himself. After catching her wrist, he pulled it up to make her look at him. He wasn''t squeezing painfully, not yet, but his grip made it clear that that could and would change if she didn''t start following his instructions without any more commentary. ¡°Use your other hand and take out your wallet, or tell my men there where to get your purse. We''re not here to answer your questions. You''re here to answer ours. Start now.¡±


    Sierra started to take a step toward the nearest man as soon as their leader grabbed Haley, but before she could get anywhere, Paige caught her shirt carefully, without letting them notice anything untoward happening. She held her sister tightly while keeping a confused, clueless and somewhat fearful look on her face. Sure, none of this was a good sign, but the man wasn''t actually hurting Haley yet. If this all went well, there was a chance they still might be able to get through this without starting a fight right there in front of the town store in broad daylight.


    Of course, that was the moment that Haley, continuing to give the man that na?ve smile, suddenly moved her free hand. But she wasn''t going for her wallet like he demanded. Instead, her small fist punched the man in the throat before he even realized she was moving. The blow took him completely by surprise, and he reflexively let go of her other wrist while stumbling backward a step. A wheezing, choking sound escaped the big guy, while his eyes were suddenly blurred by wetness at the sharp pain as his throat seemed to collapse in on itself.


    Before he could recover, and certainly before his two lackeys or any of the other men who were still over by the vans could react, Haley brought up her free hand and made a motion as though spraying something in his eyes. It was too quick for them to notice that she wasn''t actually holding anything. Yet the man cried out and stumbled weakly as a burning sensation made his eyes water even more. He was still choking, and now he had been basically blinded.


    In one smooth motion, Haley stepped around him, and kicked the back of his knee out. He went down hard, and her hand immediately slipped right inside his perfectly tailored suit jacket. The nearest of his two friends had started to reach into his own jacket. But before he could get that far, Haley found the gun that this guy had. She didn''t bother to pull it out. Instead, she simply yanked the gun up a bit to aim it through the jacket and the holster. Her finger undid the safety before pulling the trigger. A loud shot rang out, and the man who had been reaching into his jacket gave a sharp cry as the bullet grazed his arm, drawing a line of blood. It wasn''t a direct hit, but still rather painful. And it did the job of making him stop reaching for his weapon.


    That still left the other man, of course. To say nothing of the rest by the vans. But one thing at a time. The last of the three who had approached them did manage to get his pistol out. That, however, was as far as he got. No sooner had he finished drawing it from the shoulder holster, than Haley turned as well with her ¡®borrowed¡¯ pistol fully drawn from under the first man¡¯s jacket. He was still starting to bring his up, when she pulled the trigger again. Instantly, there was a shriek of metal and a cry as the gun was literally shot right out of his hand. The other weapon was sent careening off into the dirt, where it bounced and slid as a useless hunk of metal.


    The men were too distracted, obviously, to notice that while Haley was very obviously waving the real gun around with one hand, her other hand had formed itself into a pantomime of a pistol. She was good with a weapon, no doubt. But she was better with her power. The truth was that her shots with the borrowed gun weren¡¯t hitting anything, they were just a cover to avoid exposing what and who she really was. It was her Echo power that drew that line across the second man¡¯s arm, and knocked the gun out of the third one¡¯s hand. Just as it had been that power that mimicked the effects of a can of mace being sprayed right into the first man¡¯s eyes.


    And it was that power that she secretly used while pointing the real gun in the direction of those vans, while the men there were just barely starting to react. She fired with the real gun, sending several quick shots into the tires of that lead van. But her mimicked gun also ¡®fired¡¯ from her subtly raised fingers, doing much more damage than this regular pistol should have, and hitting far more accurately. In quick succession, every single van had at least two tires shot out. The men there had already started to throw themselves behind the vehicles, seeking cover. It was clear that they really hadn¡¯t been expecting any sort of resistance, let alone to this extent. They thought they could roll right in, push the townspeople around while making their demands, and simply find the hidden complex they had been spending so much time and effort tracking down.


    Well that wasn¡¯t going to happen. Haley gave the first man, who was still crying out from the ¡®mace¡¯ in his eyes and choking from that blow to his throat, a quick smack in the face from the butt of his own pistol. That knocked him onto his side. In the exact same motion (or so it would appear from the outside) while she was smacking the man with his pistol, Haley pulled the trigger once more. That shot¡­ well, again went nowhere near its target. But her other hand, still pantomiming a pistol, secretly shot the second man in the leg. He had only just finished reeling from the first shot that cut across his arm. The direct hit into his shin put him on the ground with a loud scream that seemed almost animalistic. He certainly wouldn¡¯t be getting back up soon. And the doctors he eventually saw could have fun trying to figure out where the ¡®bullet¡¯ went.


    The third man had thrown himself out of the way, cradling his injured hand. Haley let him go for the moment. He had already been disarmed, after all. She raised her voice, snapping at the other two girls. ¡°Get to the jeep and go! Follow my lead and don¡¯t fucking fall behind!¡± With that, she jumped on the ATV and started it before peeling out. Her borrowed pistol sent a rapid flurry of shots in the direction of the other vans, just enough to make sure the men there kept their heads down for another few seconds. She really didn¡¯t need those fucks to start shooting back just yet. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    In all honesty, she really didn''t need to tell the other two how to get out of there. Paige and Sierra were already sprinting to the jeep. Paige, whose legs were longer, made it to the vehicle first. There was no roof on the jeep, which was convenient right then. She jumped right over the door and landed inside. A quick press of the button with the key in her pocket started the engine up with a roar. She¡¯d already shifted into reverse and started sending the vehicle backwards onto the street even as Sierra leapt into the back. They hit pavement, and Paige shifted into drive before punching the gas to send the jeep rocketing right after Haley¡¯s rapidly departing ATV.


    Finally, the people back by the vans had recovered enough to get their weapons out and start shooting. Not just with pistols either, there were submachine guns involved. But it was too late. The jeep and ATV were out of range, and the bullets simply chewed the ground behind them.


    Clambering up into the front passenger seat, Sierra glanced over her shoulder. ¡°She knows that won¡¯t keep them for long, right? If they¡¯re worth a damn, they¡¯ll sure as hell have quick-repairing tires. And it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if they¡¯re not the only group out here. They¡¯re probably already calling in reinforcements to cut us off. Maybe even before we can get back to Irelyn at the cabin.¡±


    ¡°Believe me, I know that.¡± The voice came from the speaker in the dashboard, as Paige had already connected to Haley''s phone through the Bluetooth. ¡°I''ve been trying to call her on the other line so we can get some backup out here, but she''s not answering. Can one of you do some sort of cyborg trick to get her out of bed? And yes, yes, I know, not really a cyborg. More complicated than that, yada yada. Let''s focus on what''s important, and it''s not semantics.¡±


    While Paige drove, Sierra tapped into the connection to the security system back at the cabin to check on the woman back there and get her moving. Unfortunately, what she found made the girl grimace visibly. ¡°There''s only one camera left up and it''s the one down by the gate. I''ve got what looks like at least three more sets of tire tracks going over top of ours on their way in. Unless Irelyn had a party planned and didn''t tell us, she''s got a few very uninvited guests.¡±


    The news made Paige grip the wheel even more tightly as a rush of various emotions ran through her. If anything happened to Irelyn after they had just so recently managed to work things out and communicate properly¡­ but no, Irelyn wasn''t some helpless damsel. She had been a very active Star-Touched for over a decade in a very dangerous city. She was one of the first and youngest members of the Minority, and had grown up through that to join the Conservators. And there wasn''t a chance in hell that a few thugs with guns who were probably going around trying to shake down everyone in the local cabins, just like they had tried with them outside the store, were going to get the drop on her. They were going to regret going anywhere near that cabin. The ones who were conscious were probably already regretting it.


    She immediately tried contacting Irelyn on each of the three phones that they knew the other woman used, as well as the cabin''s house phone and through the private chat they had set up. None of them went through. On a hunch, she tried contacting the store they had just left, and then even called the shop back in Detroit. She tried half a dozen other numbers in rapid succession before grunting. ¡°Well, that figures.¡±


    Sierra gave her a quick look. ¡°You tried too, huh? Yeah, they''ve got the whole area locked down. Who knows how wide of a net they''ve got up. It¡¯s definitely too big for us to slip out easily.¡±


    ¡°Hey girls,¡± Haley cut in, ¡°how about you tell the rest of the class what you''re talking about?¡±


    It was Paige who explained. ¡°They have communication blockers up, probably over the whole area. Kills our ability to get any message out. Pretty sure the only reason we can talk to each other is because we''re so close. So try not to get more than a couple hundred yards away. We¡¯ll work on getting around the jamming enough to expand our range, but it¡¯ll take time.¡± She already had part of her system devoted to that very thing.


    By the time she finished saying those words, Sierra was already pointing ahead to something coming toward them from the opposite direction. It was a little more than a dot by that point, but it was coming very quickly. ¡°I''m gonna guess that''s not a local fisherman rushing home to his wife.¡±


    Haley had obviously seen the incoming vehicle as well, because she muttered a soft curse through the line before speaking up. ¡°Okay, I''ve got this. I''ll handle these guys, then catch up. Get to the cabin and check on Irelyn. Just do it.¡± Her voice left no room for any arguments. It was obvious that she was just as worried about her old friend as the other girls were, no matter how much they all told themselves that the woman could handle anything these assholes threw at her.


    Even then, part of Paige wanted to argue that they shouldn''t leave her alone, especially after what they had just said about not being able to call her again for awhile if they got too far apart. If anything happened to Haley because they left her alone with these guys, Irelyn would¡­ no, she wasn''t going to think about that. It was going to be fine. This was the best way to handle it. They knew people were at the cabin, and there was no way to tell exactly how many. But just through a simple numbers game, Sierra had said there were multiple vehicles that drove up that way, while there was only one vehicle coming toward them. Haley would be less outnumbered than Irelyn was. Maybe that was a bad way to look at it, but she really didn''t have much else. They would get to the cabin, find the other woman, and go back for Haley. Unless, of course, she hadn''t already caught up with them by then, which was a real possibility.


    It was the best plan they had at the moment. Everything had started happening so quickly. One minute they were just talking to Haley outside that shop, and now there was some kind of massive criminal organization surrounding this entire area and cutting off all communication while they went from building to building, cabin to cabin, trying to find a bunch of Tech-Touched who were trying to build a rocket into space or something. It was very clear that these people weren''t going to play nice. From what the other woman had said, they had apparently been looking for their quarry for a long time by that point. Now it seemed they were in the right area, and if they knew that, they were definitely going to be even more violent, even more obsessive.


    In short, they were going to be even more dangerous. No matter how much extensive experience and skill Irelyn had, she shouldn''t be on her own, especially when she didn''t have any warning about these people. They had to get back there and make sure she was safe.


    All of that ran through Paige¡¯s mind in the couple seconds remaining as they drove straight toward the oncoming vehicle. It was another van like the ones back by the shop, the ones that were probably already rapidly catching up with them from behind. Which was another reason to be reluctant to leave Haley alone, given she wouldn''t be dealing with only one van for long. But she had to push that out of her thoughts and focus. Find Irelyn, then come back for Haley.


    The van had already swerved around to use its full length to block the narrow road, even as its side door slid open and three men with automatic weapons appeared before aiming those weapons straight at Haley on the ATV. She was completely helpless, a sitting duck. Or so it would seem to those people. Just as they started to open fire, she was suddenly catapulted off the seat, hands raised as though she was holding onto a parachute or something. A parachute that wasn''t actually there. The pantomimed chute hauled her up and backwards away from the ATV just as it was riddled with bullets. But it didn''t stop. The smaller vehicle careened forward, leaving two of the three men to hurl themselves out of the van while the third threw himself backwards into it. In the next second, the ATV slammed into the side of the van at full speed, knocking it sideways a bit. Which also created an opening, slight as it was, around the vehicle''s hood for Paige to send the jeep through. They barely made it, clipping some of the thick trees on their left and scraping paint off both their vehicle and the van on the other side. The sound of gunfire had been replaced by screeching metal for just a moment. Then they were through and had open road ahead of them once more. In the rearview, they could see Haley land on top of the van, give them a quick hand motion that was part salute and part shooing motion, then reach down to grab the wrist of the driver just as he tried to point his own gun at them. For the moment at least, she had things under control. The best way to make sure it stayed that way was to go get Irelyn and meet up with Haley together to figure out what they were going to do.


    With that in mind, Paige shoved all other doubts, uncertainties, and guilt away. It was time to focus on what they were actually doing, not on what they maybe should have done or might be able to do. She gripped the wheel and kept the accelerator floored. As the scene behind them rapidly disappeared, she set her mind toward what lay ahead. Obviously, more of these people were at the cabin, and they were dangerous enough that Irelyn hadn¡¯t been able to get away yet.


    Fortunately, she wasn¡¯t alone. None of them were, not anymore. And these people were about to find out just how much of a mistake they had made by starting this fight right now.


    It was the wrong goddamn week for those bastards to come here.

 Wild 33-03 (Interlude Arc)

    It wasn¡¯t long at all before the speeding jeep was already rapidly approaching the turn to head up to the cabin. Which meant they had an important decision to make. As she watched the turn get closer, Paige let out a breath, then sent a silent message to Sierra through their connection. It was faster than speaking. She asked if the other girl wanted to take the jeep in loud to get the attention of those people away from wherever Irelyn was, or stop earlier and go in quietly so they could get an idea of what was going on before just announcing themselves for everyone to hear.


    There was a very brief second of nothing while Sierra seemed to consider the question. Then she sent back a response, pointing out that they could do both. The jeep wasn''t exactly super highly advanced, but it did have the ability to be put on autodrive. There was, of course, a safety feature that was supposed to stop it from doing anything if there wasn''t a person sitting in the driver seat with their hand on the wheel, but they could override that and send the jeep right up to the cabin while they went in more quietly to see who and what reacted to its arrival.


    It was a good idea, Paige had to admit. So she took a moment to program the autodrive, while the other girl disabled all those safety features. It was one benefit, among several, of having another Biolem as a partner, as a sister. They could split up the work like that. Without Sierra, she wouldn''t have had the time to set this up without stopping briefly. And in this sort of situation, stopping, even for a moment, could have ended up with truly catastrophic consequences.


    Then it was done, just as they reached the spot to head up the even more narrow road to the cabin itself. Paige turned the wheel, set the jeep in the right direction, then opened her door as the autodrive took over. Sierra did the same on her side, and both girls gave each other a brief look before bailing out. They hit the mix of weeds and grass lining either side of what amounted to the cabin¡¯s long driveway, and rolled end over end for a chaotic couple of seconds before coming to a skidding stop. Laying there on her side, feeling bruises already starting to form, Paige looked up to see the jeep disappearing around the corner that led right to the front of the cabin.


    She and Sierra picked themselves up, even as the sound of shouting filled the air. Obviously, those people had noticed the incoming vehicle. Without another word exchanged between them, even through their connection, the two girls crouched low and began to move closer. The first step, before whatever was going to come next in this whole thing, was finding Irelyn.


    The sound of angry men finding the empty jeep was already audible even as Paige and Sierra moved through the thick trees and bushes as silently as possible. They could hear one of the men shout to check the road and for others to spread out just in case it was that stupid cunt again. Which did, at the very least, tell them that Irelyn was both conscious and making herself a pain in the ass for these people. The thought made both of them smile a bit grimly. They had known that it was very unlikely that the Star-Touched would have been taken by surprise by these goons, but it was still nice to hear for certain. And the idea that she had pissed these people off so much already was even better. Now they just had to find her and get out of here.


    As several of the clearly heavily-armed troops jogged past them down the dirt road, Paige and Sierra continued to slip through the bushes right up to the edge of the treeline. They got as close as they could without exposing themselves, staying low to the ground and moving slowly enough to avoid stepping on leaves and twigs. From the sound of things, there were still plenty of people left in front of the cabin who hadn''t gone to check where the jeep had come from.


    Sure enough, as soon as they were close enough, both girls could see no fewer than five vans all arranged in the space around the cabin, leaving barely any room for anything else. There were a dozen armed men standing right there in plain view, as well as at least three up on the roof keeping an eye out on things. And from the sound of breaking glass and things being thrown around inside, the best guess was that there were at least as many within the cabin.


    Standing on the porch was someone who definitely stood out from the others. He was clearly the one giving the orders, wearing what looked like brown and black powered armor over his entire body. It made him stand just over seven feet tall. His helmet had a demonic shape to it, with horns and eyes that glowed bright orange. The visage was like that of one of those Asian demon masks. He also carried what appeared to be a giant minigun over one shoulder, as well as a sword hilt on his hip. Well, it looked like just the hilt, without any visible blade. But there was no doubt in either girl''s mind that it would project some sort of energy or something when needed. Either this guy was a Touched himself, or he had been thoroughly outfitted by one.


    Whatever the truth, he was definitely in charge, barking orders with a booming, clearly magnified voice in every direction about how to track down the bitch who lived here before she did any more damage. While the two of them crouched there and listened, he talked about bringing in the drones for an aerial view of the area. Which was just terrific. They really had to find Irelyn and then get the hell out of here.


    Even as that thought came to mind, the man was getting a report from one of his troops about the commotion down by the shop and closer along the road. It sounded like he was finding out just who should have been in the jeep that had just arrived. or at least, what they looked like. There was vanishingly little chance that any of his people could actually tell him what he was dealing with.


    Still, it was enough to let the man know that the woman he was sending his troops to look for had help. Help that was clearly able to fight his troops, which only convinced him even more that they were in the right place. Yeah, that was a thing. He immediately announced that whoever was staying here must have been security for ¡®those nerds,¡¯ and that finding them would lead to the real prize from¡­ someone. It sounded like he said ¡®Mr. Pause,¡¯ whoever that was. It didn¡¯t sound good. Well, not to them anyway. His goons disagreed, giving a raucous cheer at that and redoubled the search.


    Sierra took a moment to try contacting Irelyn again now that they were within what they hoped was a much closer range. Unfortunately, even though they had been able to connect to Haley¡¯s phone from within a couple hundred yards, they still couldn''t reach the other woman. They were still working on extending their range past the jamming signal. Either Irelyn wasn''t anywhere around here anymore, having already left the area, or the people here were using a more advanced jammer that was completely cutting off any phone signal at all. To test that, Sierra tried calling the house and again got nothing even from this distance. Stronger jammer it was then.


    Well, this made things harder. How were they supposed to find Irelyn without getting into a huge fight with these guys? Granted, getting into a huge fight would be fun, and the bastards obviously deserved it, but still. The two had no idea what they were dealing with when it came to the guy in the power armor, or any other real threats there might be. The fact was, Irelyn had far more experience, and she wasn''t fighting these people straight on. There had to be a reason for that. No, as much as Sierra wanted to break all their heads, they had to be smart.


    Whatever they chose to do, they had to come up with it before those drones came in. From the sound of things, they would have thermal vision and all sorts of shit like that. Which would make it rather difficult to hide in the bushes. Actually, thinking about it like that, it was a bit strange that the man in the power armor didn''t have any sort of enhanced vision that could--


    Oh. Paige and Sierra both managed to come to the same thought and focused that way in time to see the man looking right at them. He already had his massive gatling gun off his shoulder and was aiming it that way. But in that second, just before he would have opened fire, a figure leapt all the way over the cabin from the far side. A man who had been standing by the chimney let out a yelp as he was grabbed by the arm and neck. Irelyn practically flew over the cabin, grabbing that guy on her way past. Before landing, she hurled him into the guy with the power armor. Her makeshift living projectile slammed into him, making the man stumble forward a step and throwing off his aim so the hurricane of lead that came in the next second tore through a dozen trees several yards to Paige and Sierra''s left. The shots were enough, even after only what amounted to barely two and a half seconds of firing, to completely cut down several of those trees, leaving them to fall with a set of heavy crashes. So clearly, being anywhere near the path of that weapon was a very bad idea. Both girls made a quick mental note of that.


    By that point, Irelyn had landed just to one side of the big man. Apparently at some point she had managed to change into her costume, so at least her identity wasn''t completely blown. Not yet, anyway. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    As for the angry guy himself, he was already sweeping the gun that way while continuing to fire. Thousands of rounds tore through even more trees and even hit several of the nearby vans. He didn''t seem to care about that damage, keeping his full focus on killing the woman who had just jumped into his line of sight. But it wasn''t going to be that easy. Even as the bullet hellstorm began filling the air right where she had been, Irelyn had already flung herself into a sideways flip that carried her right over their path. She had one of her swords out and swung it at the barrel, but just before it would have cut into the weapon, the man had already snatched his own seemingly empty sword hilt off his waist. As it swung up, some sort of liquid metal blade emerged and solidified just in time to knock Irelyn¡¯s sword out of the way. She was still in the air, so the impact sent the woman flying sideways toward one of the already bullet-riddled vans.


    Just before she would have collided with the vehicle, Irelyn flipped over so her feet hit the side. Instantly, she launched herself off of it and back toward the big guy. He was still trying to bring that massive gun back around that way. As strong as he clearly was, or as strong as that suit made him, he couldn''t completely ignore the laws of physics. The weapon was gigantic and could only move so quickly through the air. He wouldn''t get it in place before the woman got to him. But it wasn''t the only weapon he had. That sword was still in his other hand. Or rather, the weapon that had briefly been a sword. By the time Irelyn had crossed half the distance back to him, it had changed into a massive axe with a blade at the end that was suddenly about half the size of the van she had just launched herself off of. So maybe he could dismiss a few of those physical laws.


    But then, Irelyn wasn''t exactly completely beholden to them either. Even as that giant shapeshifted axe came swinging up to meet her, she flipped over in the air so the blade passed directly underneath her. It came close enough to practically skim along her back before she finished flipping over and planted her feet against the side of the weapon while it was still in midswing. Her own smaller weapon snapped out while she was balanced there on his axe, and that time there was nothing to stop it from cutting through the ends of the gatling gun barrels.


    Even as the blade heavily damaged his ranged weapon, the big guy was already heaving his axe up as though to throw the woman off of it and directly into his line of sight. Or rather, his line of fire. A blast of powerful concussive energy erupted from those glowing orange demon eyes in his helmet. He was trying to throw the smaller woman right into the path of that blast.


    Irelyn, however, jumped at the last second, just as she was thrown off the weapon. The blast of energy passed by underneath her, while she snapped her free hand out to send a small pellet of some sort right into his helmet just as the beam stopped. The pellet exploded into a quick burst of foam that quickly hardened. It was stuck there, and was just large enough to cut off his vision. And, the other girls knew, hopefully enough to stop him from blasting again for a moment. He couldn''t risk simply trying to shoot it off with those beams just in case they failed and he ended up doing catastrophic damage to his own helmet. Not to mention his face right behind that helmet.


    He was reeling backward while Irelyn landed several feet away in front of him. But she didn''t stay there for long. While the man was still reacting to his vision being cut off, she took one step forward and then leapt that way. Her supernaturally-powerful legs took her off the ground like she was shot out of a gun, and she flipped around in the air so that both of those legs collided full force against the man''s armored chest. The impact rocketed him off the ground and sent him crashing through the front window of the cabin. They could hear the sounds of dramatic crashing as he slammed through several pieces of expensive furniture in there.


    Of course, the man wasn''t by himself. Not by a long shot. By that point, the rest of the troops had recovered from their obvious surprise. They clearly hadn''t wanted to shoot directly at their boss. But now he was out of the way, at least for a second or two. And they didn''t waste it, already taking aim with their own smaller guns. Yet even as they started shooting, Irelyn was moving. She just wasn''t there anymore, taking two quick hops that carried her immediately away from their line of fire. At the same time, the three nearest men, who had been close enough for her to almost reach with her sword, began to collapse. The girls knew that effect. In the midst of that fight, Irelyn had been using her other power, the one that drained stamina from people. Those three guys had clearly been affected enough to put them on the ground. It was just too bad that there were still so many others to take their places. And more reinforcements coming.


    The last of those quick hops carried the woman right over to where Paige and Sierra were. As the troops were adjusting their aim, her hands snapped out to catch the two girls by the arms. Without a word, she launched herself once more, much further that time, and carried them along with her. They rocketed off the ground, tearing through the tree foliage just before more shooting started up again. That single jump, even though she was carrying both girls along for the ride, took them another fifty yards deeper into the forest. Still close enough to still hear the gunfire and shouting, but far enough that they at least weren''t within immediate line of sight.


    Nor did Irelyn stop there immediately. After giving the girls just a second or two to collect themselves, she gripped them tightly once more before jumping again. They did that twice more, cutting to the side away from the direction the first jump had taken them. Hopefully, that would actually give them enough space to stop their pursuers from immediately catching up.


    The three listened to the sound of those guys going the wrong way for a moment, until it was clear that they weren''t in immediate danger. Then they all breathed out. Irelyn looked at the other two, and both of them expected her to lecture them about coming right back into danger. But even though it briefly looked like she wanted to, the woman visibly pushed the words away in order to focus on what was important. Instead, she asked, in a quiet whisper they could barely hear, ¡°Where¡¯s Haley? Do any of you know what''s going on around here?¡±


    Taking turns and speaking quickly, the girls told her what they knew, and what had already happened. They told her that these people were here looking for Gilbert Saunders and the rest of his so-called Galileo¡¯s Adherents. Whatever their reasoning, it was obvious that these people were more than a little obsessed with tracking down that group. And they were willing to hurt or kill anyone in their way. It was no wonder that the Adherents had apparently taken to hiring Sell-Touched like Haley to keep those fucks away from them.


    Once she had the gist of it, Irelyn glanced back the way they had come and made a noise deep in her throat. ¡°Right, I''ve already tried my own emergency signal, but it''s not going through. Whoever these people are, they definitely have access to very advanced blocking technology.¡±


    Sierra offered a shrug. ¡°I mean, that just makes sense, doesn''t it? If they want to have any chance of taking over an entire group filled with Tech-Touched, they¡¯d need the most advanced ways of blocking that technology. So, of course they can block a phone call. Or even your super special emergency signal. From what Haley said, they¡¯ve been at this for a long time. If they think this is their best shot to finally find these people, they ain¡¯t gonna take any chances of reinforcements screwing up their party.¡±


    With a short, distracted nod as most of her attention centered on watching for pursuit, Irelyn muttered a curse. ¡°Yeah, which means they¡¯ll be all over us. Now they think we¡¯re the security for those people or something. It¡¯s just luck that we happened to be here when they showed up.¡±


    ¡°Good luck,¡± Paige wondered quietly while listening to the men shouting in the distance, ¡°or bad?¡±


    ¡°Good for those Adherent people since they get more time and some sort of warning, plus help,¡± Sierra put in. ¡°Bad for these guys. For us¡­ guess we¡¯ll find out for sure when we¡¯re done, huh?¡±


    With a heavy sigh, Irelyn pivoted and started to walk again while beckoning for the other two to follow. ¡°Come on, we need to put a bit more distance between us and where they bring those drones to start the search. And we¡¯ve got to find Haley. She can take care of herself, but I don¡¯t--¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t what?¡± That was, unexpectedly, the voice of Haley herself. All three other girls spun that way, as she emerged from behind one of the nearby trees, brushing herself off. ¡°Oh don¡¯t you all look shocked. Like you said, I can take care of myself. And I know the layout of this area, plus how you think.¡± That last was directed toward Irelyn. ¡°You¡¯re right though, they¡¯ve got some pretty advanced-looking drones coming this way, plus a chopper. They¡¯re pulling out all the stops for this. You really pissed them off.¡± She sounded rather proud of her old friend at that moment.


    Irelyn snorted, but Sierra and Paige could both tell she was blushing a bit under that insect-samurai mask. ¡°Fine, they¡¯re pissed off and focused on us. But we know their real target.¡± Even as she said that, the woman started to walk once more, leaving the other three to follow.


    ¡°Yeah, the Adherents, and I can¡¯t contact them,¡± Haley confirmed. ¡°Those cell blockers are cutting off absolutely everything.¡±


    ¡°You know where they are though?¡± Irelyn asked, glancing over her shoulder. ¡°I mean, where the teleportation entrance to their little island is.¡±


    Once again, Haley confirmed, ¡°Yeah, I can take us there. Maybe they can turn off the portal or something. Either way, we should probably warn them. They¡¯re good people. I¡¯d hate to see anything happen to them. Especially anything these fucks want to do.¡±


    ¡°Great, then lead the way,¡± Irelyn urged with a gesture.


    ¡°But just for the record, if we actually end up having to go anywhere near another tropical island I am going to seriously damage these assholes.¡±

 Wild 33-04 (Interlude Arc)

    They could hear the helicopter behind them, along with the humming sound of many drones flying just over the treetops. The four of them had managed to sprint far enough away to be out of the initial main search pattern their flying pursuers were using, but the damn things would spread out quickly. And they could widen their search pattern much faster than the four could put more distance between them. They needed to get back to a vehicle. Preferably one that could stay in the trees, because the main roads were probably being watched already. This group was entirely too well-equipped and organized to not have the entire area locked down by now. They had come here in force, blocking all communication out to make sure there couldn¡¯t be any reinforcements. They definitely had their own vehicles patrolling the road, and ways of blocking anyone else from physically leaving. At least, if they went out that way. The net itself might still be thin enough out here in the woods for their group to make it to the Adherents¡¯ entrance portal if they were quick.


    First, however, they had to find a way to travel quicker. Running like this just wasn¡¯t going to cut it, even if all of them were nearly (or literally) inhumanly quick. Eventually, those drones would spread their search pattern out far enough to pick them up. Then it would be almost impossible to actually shake them. Even as that thought came to her, Irelyn was already speaking up, her voice coming out in a short, brisk tone that she used while working with other Touched. ¡°Keep moving this way, don¡¯t make any sharp turns for a couple minutes or I won¡¯t be able to find you again.¡±


    She let them process that for just a second, while an entire series of doubts and worries played out in her own mind, before shaking it off. With that, Irelyn took one more very deliberate step before using the next one to launch herself up and forward. She had enough experience with her power to keep her leap down enough that she didn¡¯t break through the treetops and give away their position. Instead, most of her energy went toward launching herself forward. Just like that, she left the other three behind and crossed a solid fifty yards, sailing right between the trees and bushes. A tall oak loomed right in front of her, and she easily kicked off it to launch herself mostly forward and somewhat sideways before hitting another tree about thirty feet that way that she could also kick off of to get even further. That took her almost the length of a football field before she had to come down, bouncing off the ground and back up once again with zero hesitation. In the course of only a few quick seconds, she managed to travel almost a quarter mile like that.


    Irelyn continued like that for just a bit longer, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for anything they could use. Then she heard them, multiple ATV and motorcycle engines coming from her right just as she landed in the thick branches of a gnarled old tree. Her gaze snapped in that direction, and she could see the dust clouds being sent up from the vehicles racing through the forest. It could have been ordinary campers out having a good time without any idea of what was going on, but somehow she doubted that. Either way, getting a closer look at them was her best move.


    Things got better quickly on that front, as the vehicles seemed to be coming in her direction. On the other hand, she really needed to be careful. Not only was the tree she was currently in pretty close to bare, leaving her fairly exposed, but she was sure they had various tools to enhance their vision. Even if she had been completely covered by thick foliage, those people would be able to see her as easily as though she¡¯d been standing in a spotlight. No, she needed to be tricky if she wanted to get through these next few seconds without alerting their entire group.


    To that end, the woman crouched right where she was, eyes on the narrow trail she had been able to pick out as she listened to the sound of the vehicles getting closer. Now she could pick out voices calling out to one another over the sound of their engines. She wasn¡¯t getting many specific words, but the overall gist was apparent. They were searching for people. Them. They were searching for Irelyn and the others. So, definitely not a group of campers out for a ride.


    Staring at the spot on the path where the lead vehicle, whatever it was, would first come into view, Irelyn took a breath and held it. The timing here was crucial. At the exact second that the first vehicle was coming into view, just as it began to crest that small hill, she threw herself sideways, away from being in plain sight. She could hear the dirtbike, as it turned out to be, pop up into view just as her foot hit the ground almost seventy feet to the right and slightly forward from her previous location. But she didn¡¯t stay there long, instantly kicking off from there to launch herself even further forward, past the spot where those vehicles were coming into view but still to the side. Now she was behind them, past the area they had already reached. They would probably catch a glimpse of quick movement out of the corner of their eyes, but by the time they followed up on that, or even convinced themselves it was real, it would be too late.


    The instant her foot hit the ground after that forward jump, Irelyn was in the air once more. That time, she sent herself rocketing toward the path. Her timing had to be just right, which was a bit harder given she was only making an educated guess about how many vehicles there were. Still, it worked. The last one, an ATV, was just barely reaching the spot where the first had come into view. She heard the engines start to slow as the rider of that lead motorcycle began to react to catching that brief glimpse of her movement. He was trying to look that way to see what it was. Which meant the rest of the vehicles (two more motorcycles and two ATVs in total) had to slow down as well, though it sounded like they hadn¡¯t actually seen anything themselves, shouting rather annoyed questions ahead to find out what the hell the lead driver thought he was doing.


    Meanwhile, the driver of the ATV in the rear had just barely managed to avoid crashing into the matching one ahead of him. Irelyn saw the helmeted figure let out a breath of relief right before she slammed into him. Her last leap had carried her directly into his path, allowing the woman to reach out, grab the figure, and knock him off the ATV on her way past. He let out a startled grunt just as they hit the ground together several feet to the side. That gave her just enough time to get a better grip on his leather jacket, so she could jump once more and carry him out into the trees.


    The man struggled as well as he could in her grip, but she aimed for a sturdy oak and knocked the wind out of him by semi-crashing into it. There was a time when Irelyn wouldn¡¯t have dared slam someone into a solid surface like that, for fear of doing serious damage. Even if these guys were assholes, she didn¡¯t want to paralyze them, or worse. But years upon years of experience had left her with a much better understanding of just how hard she could safely hit them. Especially given he was wearing a helmet and padded jacket. It meant she could get away with making sure he collided hard enough to stop the man from having any interest in fighting back anytime soon. Or in doing much of anything besides laying where she dropped him.


    By that point, the guy on the ATV just ahead of the one she had grabbed this one off of was starting to turn in his seat to look behind him, having felt something rush past. No sooner had he taken in the sight of the empty vehicle where his buddy had been, however, than Irelyn¡¯s next leap brought her right down on the seat behind the man. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she leapt right back up again almost as soon as she had landed. He had time to give a strangled, surprised yelp that was barely audible over the sound of the engines before they were gone, too high for the three guys on the motorcycles to see when they turned to look that way.


    High as the jump was, it wasn¡¯t all that far by her standards. But she did manage to jump forward a bit, ahead of where the motorcycles were and thus behind where they were looking once they turned around to stare in obvious confusion at the two mysteriously empty ATVs. And she didn¡¯t stay there in what would have been plain sight if they turned back anyway, bouncing forward immediately to get him into the cover of the trees. That time, rather than slam the man into an oak, she brought him straight down to the ground, making him hit the dirt hard enough to leave him briefly stunned.


    The man on the lead motorcycle, who had come over the hill first, was turned all the way around along with the other two. They were staring at the two empty ATVs. Before they could do anything else, Irelyn sprang right past the front wheel of that first bike, grabbing the man''s arms and leaping as far as she could to yank him off his ride and away from his friends. She did it as quickly as possible, leaving that motorcycle to fall to the ground with a thunk that drew the attention of the other two.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Now they were really freaking out. One grabbed some sort of radio attached to his bike, while the other pulled a rifle out of its holster on the side of his own. But if Irelyn had timed things just right- yes, in that second, the man she had slammed into the dirt ahead of them started to groan and curse. He might have cursed even more, but internally, if he¡¯d realized just how much he had screwed over his partners with that. Because both remaining men reflexively looked that way, which gave Irelyn the opening she needed to launch herself over and catch both of them by the back of their necks. While they were reacting, the woman leapt straight up, dragging them along for the ride. The force of it yanked the gun and radio out of each of their hands. They kicked and flailed a bit at first, before seeming to realize just how high they actually were. That made them go still, the fear apparent in the way they whined and gasped. At least for a moment. Then Irelyn¡¯s other power began to kick in, before they had even reached the apex of that jump. She drained their stamina very quickly. By the time they came back down where she could land smoothly, both men were completely unconscious and Irelyn was able to simply unceremoniously drop them right where they landed, next to the bikes.


    From there, she took a moment to grab the other men, using her power to put them to sleep as well before pulling them all into the same area. It wasn¡¯t hard to disarm them, take any other tools they had, and then use rope she found in one of the ATVs to tie the men up securely.


    With the men dealt with for the moment, Irelyn turned to get her bearings. It took her a second to estimate just how far Paige, Haley, and Sierra could have gotten in that time. Then she took a step before leaping once more. Some might have thought she would be tired after all that. But the energy she drained from people didn¡¯t simply dissipate off into the void. When she drained stamina, it went into her. As far as Irelyn was concerned, she¡¯d just taken a very pleasant nap. Now she was refreshed and ready to get back to the others so they could get out of this area.


    Her estimation wasn¡¯t perfect. She had to jump around a couple more times. But soon, she did manage to come down just to the side of where the others were. Which immediately left her facing three raised guns--well two raised guns and one hand with the fingers pointed like a gun--before they realized who she was. Immediately, the weapons were lowered and Paige reflexively stepped that way before stopping as she blurted, ¡°Irelyn--you--what happened?¡±


    ¡°I found us some rides to get out of here faster,¡± the woman replied easily, while giving an idle wave back the other way. ¡°But hang on, what happened to you? Where¡¯d the guns come from?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say we had our own encounter with some searchers, but they were on foot,¡± Paige informed her with a very slight grimace. ¡°And we barely avoided another patrol right after that.¡± Sierra¡¯s head bobbed easily. ¡°Yeah, these guys are out in force right now. But we¡¯re pretty sure we managed to put them down before they called it in. On the other hand, if anyone tries to get in contact with them, they¡¯ll figure out something¡¯s wrong pretty quick. Which¡¯ll narrow the search.¡±


    For just a second or two, Irelyn glanced that way. Sierra was--god, she looked just like Cassidy Evans. Whatever Pittman¡¯s full intentions had been when he made a Biolem that looked like that girl, Irelyn really didn¡¯t want to know. She was, in all honesty, glad he was dead. Yes, part of her would have preferred to be able to talk to the man. Or at him. And she had mixed feelings when it came to what had apparently been a cold-blooded execution. But in the end, he was gone and no longer a threat. That was what mattered. He couldn¡¯t hurt anyone else again, especially Paige and Sierra. Which was a thought that brought her right back around to wishing he was alive so she could punch him a dozen times. What a convoluted merry-go-round of conflicting feelings.


    Yeah, as far as his death, and that of her own parents went¡­ she had a lot of thoughts to sort out, but later. Preferably when they weren¡¯t far too busy dealing with an entire well-armed private militia. And it definitely wasn¡¯t the right time to stand there marveling over how much her newest little sister resembled the teenaged daughter of the richest couple in the entire state of Michigan. Or how that rich couple also happened to secretly be the-- nope, nope, definitely not the right time to think about any of that. One crisis at a time, and the one right in front of her had priority.


    Forcing herself to put all of that out of her mind, Irelyn cleared her throat pointedly before nodding back the way she¡¯d come from. ¡°Okay, we''re going over there. I''ll take one of you at a time. The others, um, keep your heads down.¡± With that, she reached out to take Sierra by the hand. As soon as the other girl was ready, she jumped, taking several leaps to reach the spot where she had left the vehicles and their trussed-up former riders. A quick glance that way assured her that they were all still safely out of commission and hadn''t made any real headway on getting free.


    Her hand squeezed Sierra''s shoulder as she pointed to the nearest ATV. ¡°Keep an ear on the radio, would you? I''d like to know if we''re about to have company before it¡¯s right on top of us.¡±


    Sierra offered her an easy wink while hopping up to straddle one of the motorcycles. ¡°No prob, babe. And I do mean ¡®no prob.¡¯ Seriously, you realize I can listen to their radios just by tun--ow.¡±


    The last bit came from Irelyn giving the girl a tiny kick in the leg to quiet her down. ¡°Yes, I know,¡± she very deliberately replied, ¡°you can listen to the radio on the bike instead, if you insist. ATV, bike, whatever works.¡± Leaning closer to ensure that Sierra was between her and any view the tied-up troops might¡¯ve had, she pointed to her mouth, then jabbed that finger in their direction before giving a sharp shake of her head. Hopefully, the point was made. Don¡¯t talk about that stuff out loud where those people could conceivably hear and figure something out. Yes, they should remain asleep for awhile, but there was no sense in taking that sort of risk. Even if they didn¡¯t jump to the Biolem thing, learning that Sierra could listen to their radios in her head was just information they absolutely didn¡¯t need. It might make them think she was a Touched or something. And honestly, they really just didn¡¯t need to give those people reason to pay any more attention to Paige and Sierra, or to stop underestimating them. Being seen as not an actual threat was their best advantage, and Irelyn was very aware of just how beneficial it could be.


    Either way, saying too much in front of those people, probably unconscious or not, was a bad idea. It was better to assume they had some ability to hear more than expected. Then it would be harder to be unpleasantly surprised. Avoiding as many unpleasant surprises as possible when it came to dealing with Touched, Touched-Tech, and anything adjacent to that had been one of the most important things she¡¯d learned over so many years. Even if it didn¡¯t always work, as well evidenced by--well, her life over these weeks, really.


    As soon as she was certain the other girl understood what she was trying to get across, Irelyn turned and jumped away once more. She would have to make this quick. The idea of leaving any of them alone was enough to make her stomach roll, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. The sooner she could grab the other two, jump them back here, and get everyone on their way with their new vehicles the better. They needed to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers, and get to the Adherents¡¯ entrance portal to make sure they knew what was going on.


    In quick succession, she brought Paige and Haley back over to join Sierra by the vehicles. The other girl had been busy in those few moments, apparently, informing them that she had searched those vehicles and removed the GPS tracking devices that would have allowed their pursuers to find them the moment they figured out what the four had done. While she was at it, the girl had also disabled anything that might have allowed the vehicles to be turned off or controlled from a distance. She even managed to avoid saying anything about using her Biolem tech to do so out loud.


    ¡°Great,¡± Haley announced as she stepped to one of the bikes. ¡°Now can we get moving already? I''d like to warn those people before it all ends up being a moot point because we took so long that the fuckers found them the old-fashioned way. Or, you know, they all died of old age.¡±


    Haley¡­ she was here. She''d come back after all that time. Even more surprising, she hadn''t left right after Irelyn woke up. She was still here, and had even come on vacation with them. And apparently it was a good thing she had. Otherwise, they would''ve had no idea what was happening. Though to be fair, Irelyn was pretty sure they could have worked out that these people were the bad guys even if they didn''t know the details. The guy in the power armor and all his friends weren''t exactly subtle in any way.


    While Sierra started up the motorcycle she was on, Irelyn beckoned Paige to join her on one of the ATVs. It sounded like they would have a little bit before they got where they were going, and she wanted to have a chance to talk to the girl.


    Granted, several frantic minutes racing on an ATV through the woods trying to stay ahead of a private army who wanted to abduct a group of tech touched for their own schemes probably wasn''t the best possible time to have a conversation. But then again, she had learned a long time ago that in this sort of life, you took what you could get.


    At least this time she wasn''t trying to have a heart to heart with a teammate while the plane they were on was plummeting toward a mountain.


    That had been an interesting fifteenth birthday.

 Patreon Snippets 38A

    The Ministers Gray Coming To Terms With Realizing Cassidy Is Paintball


    From the outside, the place looked like a simple three-story house in the old Victorian style, surrounded by other houses just like it but with a ten-foot tall brick privacy wall and ten feet of empty ground on all sides between the edge of the actual property and any neighboring homes ensuring that casual observers and snoopy neighbors alike wouldn¡¯t likely spot anything they weren¡¯t supposed to. And those were simply the obvious measures. Hidden within that brick wall were hologram projectors that made the yard it was surrounding look empty and quiet no matter what was happening within. Any person or drone flying overhead for any reason wouldn¡¯t see anything.


    A double wooden gate at the front of the home blocked access to the driveway, the only visible entrance besides simply climbing over the wall. And that wouldn¡¯t actually be as simple as it sounded, given various security measures. There was an intercom next to the gate, along with a sign that had once read, ¡®Beware Of Dog.¡¯ But the last word had been crossed out and ¡®Distinct Fish Smell And Trout Slaps¡¯ had been written overtop of it. Beside that was a second sign reading, ¡®Cookie And Jerky Sellers Welcome, Other Solicitors May Become Cookies And Jerky.¡¯


    All of which amounted to strangers having no idea what was happening beyond those walls. Though the neighbors could attest that the man who lived there with his young son, despite being very private and having an odd sense of humor, was very polite and well-mannered. Thoughtful, even. He took casseroles and snacks over when people were sick or had lost someone, bought candy from their children when they came around for school fundraisers, and even helped take care of poor old Mrs. Patterson¡¯s yard now that she wasn¡¯t able to get out of the house anymore.


    So, the people left them alone, and were unaware of just how important their polite but rather reclusive neighbors were. Because beyond those walls and under the privacy hologram lay the home of the Ministers Gray, Fisher and Price. And they really did enjoy buying cookies and jerky.


    At that moment, however, neither of them were thinking about snacks. Well, they were at least ninety-three percent not thinking about snacks. Instead, Fisher paced around the backyard. Rather than being covered in lush, well-trimmed grass as the hologram would make it appear to be from above, their actual grounds consisted of several large trees, thick weeds and bushes, wildflowers, dirt, and rocks. The yard was made up to look like a small piece of the forest they had come from. In fact, it was literally a piece of the forest they¡¯d come from, transported here.


    Pacing in circles around the largest tree in the very center of their expansive yard, Fisher muttered, ¡°Of course it¡¯s them, Paintball is Cassidy, it makes so much sense in hindsight.¡±


    With a brief bright glow, his body was replaced by Price¡¯s much smaller raccoon self, though both were dressed in their usual pristine suits. ¡°Sure does. I mean look at the danger that kid keeps throwing himself--themself into. They were there that first night when Simon was dealing with those bastards, but they didn¡¯t have any of the context. Then the poor kid got chased and--¡±


    Again, they switched places, Fisher appearing in time to finish with, ¡°--nearly got killed by their own brother. They had to see him, that¡¯s why they didn¡¯t tell their parents. Then they must¡¯ve found out more about things. Didn¡¯t Paintball show up at that old car lot the next night when Simon was meeting with those Eights people? He barely escaped, and that¡¯s when Sterling--¡±


    Price was back out then, jumping up into the lowest branch of the tree to walk along it. ¡°--met with Simon as Silversmith. Cassidy saw that happen. They had to be nearby. It would explain why they never went to him--to him as Smith that is, despite being Cassidy¡¯s favorite hero. They found out he was their father, and that their father was part of this whole¡­ organization.¡±


    The raccoon leapt from the tree, transitioning back into the bear before landing. Fisher grunted. ¡°And things just kept going from there. That must be part of why Paintball hasn¡¯t tried to go to the authorities. Not only because they know it¡¯s pointless at best and dangerous at worst, but because they¡¯re afraid of what might happen to their family. They¡¯re conflicted about it.¡±


    He dropped onto all fours, which looked rather odd in his suit and was only possible without completely ripping the whole thing thanks to the special fabric it was made out of. Pacing down to a small stream running through the yard, he shook his large, shaggy head. ¡°That whole thing with the vials for Blackjack¡¯s daughter, that was all Cassidy. When they were being chased by Cu¨¦lebre, when they were¡­¡± He gave a very low, dangerous growl at the thought of what would have happened if the demon-like man had actually caught up with Paintball. Obviously, the Oscuro leader had had no idea who he was threatening to hurt, but that didn¡¯t stop Fisher from instinctively wanting to take a big bite out of him. No matter how poorly that would turn out.


    Price reemerged then, hopping nimbly over the creek with a dark curse. ¡°It was all Cassidy, every bit of it. The fight with Pencil at the children¡¯s hospital during the mayor¡¯s big event, the--that night they showed up late because they got hurt ¡®skating,¡¯ it had to be a Paintball thing.¡±


    Fisher rose to his full height, barely restraining himself from giving a roar. It wouldn¡¯t have alerted the neighbors, of course. Not with their privacy tech. But still, he tried not to give in to those sorts of instincts whenever he could help it. Roaring right then wouldn¡¯t help anything. ¡°They hurt Cassidy. They tried to kill Cassidy.  Pencil, the Scions, the--they tried to hurt our Cassidy.¡±


    ¡°And now they¡¯re dead,¡± Price pointed out after switching places with his partner again. ¡°Can¡¯t forget that, buddy. All this time, Sterling and Elena have been debating about whether their offspring is ready to be brought into things, or if they should just let them keep being a kid. Turns out Cassidy¡¯s more prepared for this life than they could ever have guessed.¡± He smiled a bit proudly, kicking a dirt clod into the water. ¡°More prepared than any of us could have guessed.¡±


    ¡°Cup isn¡¯t dead. And their parents would say they''re a bit too prepared,¡± Fisher noted as he reappeared and reached up to take a pear off one of the higher branches nearby. Examining the fruit, he continued. ¡°They wanted Cassidy to have something closer to a real childhood before getting involved in any of this. You know they think they brought Simon in on things too quickly. He was too young for it.¡±


    Price took over once more, catching the fruit as it fell into his raised paws. ¡°They didn''t exactly have much of a choice. Not when the kid was so upset about his sibling and what happened to poor Anthony and his family. It was either erase his memory too, or bring him in on things so he¡¯d know why she didn''t remember.¡± His tone made it clear that he didn''t exactly agree with the memory erasure to begin with. Neither of them did. And why would they? Cassidy losing their memories had erased any chance the two of them had to spend any more time with the person who had named them. For a very long while, at least. Sure, they could have gotten to know the teen more as their human-disguised selves, but it just wasn¡¯t the same. They wanted to be open with the kid.


    Instead, they had backed off along with the rest of the Ministry, leaving Cassidy to have what was supposed to be a normal life. As normal as someone with a staggeringly rich and powerful family could have, anyway. They were supposed to be left out of all this, and now look at what happened. Cassidy almost couldn''t have been more involved. But in this case, they weren''t even doing so from inside the Ministry itself, where it was safer. The kid was on the outside, keeping secrets from their parents, maybe even trying to work against them in one way or another. At the very least, they obviously didn''t trust their family enough to come forward. Even though Paintball had worked with the Ministry a few times, they still weren''t admitting to their parents who they really were. Which seemed to mean they were afraid of what would happen if they did. Or they were keeping their options open to do something about the Ministry if it came down to it. Or both.


    Taking a bite of the delicious fruit after giving it a thorough wash in the creek, Price tossed it up in the air and caught it with a thoughtful stare before loudly cursing. ¡°Oh for fuck¡¯s sake, they wanted you to throw them! The damn kid got you to throw them across the city after barely meeting us, how the hell did we not figure out it was Cassidy just from that? We even said the two of them would get along. Well of course they¡¯d get along, they were the same damn person!¡±


    With that, he tossed the fruit in the air, allowing Fisher to catch it after switching places again. The bear examined the thing against his claw while shaking his large shaggy head. ¡°You know, part of me wants to say I wouldn''t have thrown Paintball like that if I knew who they really were under that helmet. But the truth is, I think I would have thrown them even harder.¡± He gave a low chuckle that rumbled across the yard like distant thunder. ¡°I mean, we know they have powers, they can protect themself. If I knew who they were, I would have tried to impress the kid more.¡±


    Taking the pear into both hands after coming back out, Price scarfed the rest of it down in a few quick bites while giving a noise of appreciation. His own head bobbed up and down easily. ¡°Mmmph, trust me, I know what you mean, buddy. I wanna see just what the kid can do. Is that bad? Should I be more horrified about Cass putting themself in danger? Because I am that too. But, you know, since they¡¯re doing it anyway and we can¡¯t put that genie back in the bottle, I want to see just how impressive they can be. Which--¡± He stopped, glancing away. ¡°Hm, I wonder--¡±


    ¡°If we can get them some real training?¡± Fisher finished for him after appearing and rising to his full height. ¡°Imagine what Cassidy could do with their powers if we could convince them to let us bring them into our sanctuary like we did Simon.¡± That was how the boy had become such a good fighter in a relatively short time. Not only could time within the pocket dimension be adjusted to pass much faster than the outside world in order to learn and practice more while barely any time passed, but Fisher and Price were able to absorb the academic knowledge and physical skills of anyone they pulled inside their pocket dimension. They could then teach another person those skills. Simon had spent a couple hours each afternoon for a year or so in their private training dojo, but to the boy, he had trained for over a decade without getting older. With plenty of breaks, of course. They could create anything in their private space, including movies and games. Which they¡¯d truly enjoyed showing off to the young Simon. The idea of doing so with Cassidy, if they would allow it, was so tempting. Teaching the kid how to really fight, how to take care of themself as well as Simon could but then add in their paint powers? Honestly, both of them really wanted to see that. Paintball was already amazing enough, and they¡¯d thought that before finding out who the kid really was. Now that they knew ¡®he¡¯ was Cassidy, the person who had first given them their names and played with them back when they were still coming to terms with this whole sapience thing? Oh, they wanted to find out just how far the kid could go, just how amazing Paintball could become with a little bit of help. It¡¯d be even better if they could do so with the full knowledge and understanding of everyone involved, including Sterling and Elena, but barring that, they could at least make sure Cassidy got the proper training. Obviously, they were getting some training, probably from one of their teammates. But the thought of helping them get even better, even stronger, of someday letting Cassidy¡¯s parents see just how much the kid had been able to do and how far they had come¡­The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to feel betrayed,¡± Price muttered, appearing next to another tree before rapping his paws against it thoughtfully. ¡°No matter what we say when it comes down to it, Sterling and Elena are going to be angry that we didn¡¯t tell them as soon as we realized. And if anything happens to the kid in the meantime, if they get hurt or¡­ or worse, we¡¯ll never be forgiven.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll never forgive ourselves,¡± Fisher pointed out while lumbering toward the house on all fours. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯ve gotta find a way to get the kid to let us help them learn. Maybe we can teach all of them.¡± That last bit came with a thoughtful murmur. ¡°Approach one of the other kids and point out that they keep getting in fights and that we can help them learn better¡­¡±


    ¡°Worth thinking about,¡± Price noted after taking over as they walked up the back steps to the patio. He stepped on the button that opened the door there so they could head inside. ¡°And we could use something else to think about anyway.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± a new voice spoke up from inside their kitchen, ¡°if you need something else to think about, I have a few ideas.


    ¡°But it¡¯s going to involve keeping more secrets,¡± Robert Parson warned.


    ********


    Paige And Cassidy Talk The Night Before The Current Interlude Arc


    Taking a bottle of orange juice from the hotel minifridge and popping it open, Cassidy was about to head back into the room they were sharing with Izzy when their phone buzzed. A quick check showed that Paige was the one messaging, asking if they wanted to talk about the tournament.


    After thinking about it for a second, Cassidy sent back a quick text promising to call as soon as they stepped out. They gave a look toward the room with Izzy, but ultimately turned the other way. The younger girl was sleeping and they didn¡¯t want to disturb her by being on the phone.


    The door to their parents¡¯ room was shut, without any light coming out from under it. Whether that meant they were asleep or not was debatable, but either way they weren¡¯t going to have a discussion out here either. No, they could just take a walk. The hotel here didn¡¯t actually use keys for guests, instead their biometrics were added to the system and the doors would simply open if they matched. Which didn¡¯t exactly stop everyone who could shapeshift perfectly, but then again, neither did keys that could be copied. Plus the biometrics way of doing things meant that at least if someone did break in by shapeshifting, they¡¯d know who had been impersonated. It helped. Or maybe it just made rich people feel safer. Either way, that was the system the hotel was using.


    After leaving the penthouse and taking the elevator downstairs, Cassidy found their way out through one of the side doors attached to one of the hotel¡¯s restaurants. It was late enough that the place was closed, but they were able to step out onto the patio overlooking the street from a couple floors up. Perching on the railing there and looking around to make sure they were alone, Cassidy hit the button to call Paige. Their eyes scanned the cars passing by below under the streetlights. Even now, long after midnight, the city of Phoenix was busy. Their push for tourism was working, apparently.


    ¡°I heard that restaurant makes the best pizza in the city.¡± That was the first thing Paige said as soon as she answered. ¡°Can you smell it from the balcony out there, or did you close the door?¡±


    Giving a quick look over their shoulder, Cassidy opened and shut their mouth, making a noise of uncertainty before replying, ¡°Uh, it¡¯s closed. But are you tracking my phone? Because I know you guys are convinced I can¡¯t walk five feet without getting in deep trouble, but that¡¯s really not cool.¡±


    There was a chuckle from the other end before Paige assured her, ¡°No tracking, no bugging, nothing like that, I swear. I just looked at the hotel blueprints online and timed how long it took you to call, that¡¯s it. There were a couple options but that one made the most sense. I took a shot. Thought it¡¯d freak you out a little bit.¡± She paused briefly, then sounded just a little bit guilty. ¡°I guess maybe I shouldn¡¯t try to freak you out when you¡¯re supposed to be on vacation, huh?¡±


    ¡°Showoff,¡± Cassidy muttered with a tiny smile before adding, ¡°If you wanted to lecture me about getting involved in the tournament instead of embracing the whole total vacation relaxation thing-¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Paige interrupted before they could continue with that, ¡°I wanted to say good luck. I mean, I know I said it over text before, but I thought you should actually hear it--¡± She started to say something else, but the words were cut off by the sound of a loud splash and familiar cackle.


    ¡°Sounds like Sierra¡¯s having fun with the lake.¡± Cassidy noted, quickly shaking off the lingering strangeness of hearing their own laugh through the phone like that. ¡°Are there any fish left in the place, or has she already scared them all into figuring out how to migrate north for the summer?¡± They took a gulp of that orange juice and watched a group of well-dressed Asian tourists posing in front of one of the big golden statues of some famous basketball player just down the street.


    After a somewhat lengthy pause, particularly for her, Paige coughed before admitting, ¡°Oh, it uh, I mean yes, she has found the lake and has definitely terrified the fish. But that wasn¡¯t her. She¡¯s out taking a walk right now. I uh, that was you. I mean, a recording of you. Remember that whole thing in eighth grade with Darrus Peinmer betting you wouldn¡¯t go off the high dive backwards?¡±


    ¡°I remember he had to spend the rest of the week talking like a pirate and carrying a stuffed parrot around.¡± After getting that much out, Cassidy gave a thoughtful murmur. ¡°Come to think of it, I don¡¯t think he actually lost anything in that bet. He still has the parrot, I¡¯ve seen it in his car.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think he bet Cassidy Evans wouldn¡¯t jump in a pool?¡± Paige pointed out with a snort. ¡°He just wanted an excuse to talk like a pirate and carry a stuffed animal to school.¡±


    Feeling a slight rush of warmth crossing their face, Cassidy admitted, ¡°Yeah, okay, when you say it like that, it¡¯s obvious. But why are you watching some old video of me jumping off the high dive anyway?¡±


    ¡°I was--¡± Paige coughed again, sounding just a little strained. ¡°Sorry, I know it¡¯s probably pointless, but I just thought I could look back through some of the clips we¡¯ve got and see if I could give you any advice for the tournament. You know, if they have a diving event or something. It uh, sounds kind of dumb now that I say it out loud like that. You already dive a lot better now than you did when we were thirteen. What exactly was I going to say, ¡®when you flipped off that board three and a half years ago, you didn¡¯t tuck your legs tight enough, be careful with that?¡¯ And even if I did find some useful advice to give, who¡¯s to say it would actually help you with--¡±


    ¡°You think I don¡¯t tuck my legs tight enough on a backflip?¡± Cassidy interrupted, changing the phone to speaker so they didn¡¯t have to hold it up to their ear. ¡°Okay send me that video, I wanna see.¡± Even then, they had stood up and started lifting one leg and folding it against their stomach, then the other, trying to see how it felt to have their legs fully extended and then tucked properly.


    ¡°You want the--¡± Clearly stopping herself from questioning that too much, Paige instead promised, ¡°Okay, hang on, it¡¯s coming. I¡¯ll send it over and then let you focus on that.¡±


    ¡°Why,¡± Cassidy reflexively asked while navigating to the video as soon as the phone buzzed with its arrival, ¡°you got a hot date to get to or something?¡± As soon as the unthinking words were out of their mouth, they were already blushing and asking themself what the hell they were even saying. ¡°I mean, sorry, you probably want to get to bed. Yeah, I can look at the clip by myself.¡±


    ¡°I definitely do not have a date.¡± Once again, Paige¡¯s voice was strained. ¡°There¡¯s like four people even remotely our age within fifty miles, and one of them is Sierra. I-- um, I can help you look through the clip, if you want. And I think I can¡­ um, probably find a few more clips of you doing that sort of thing. We could¡­ go through them, try to see what a judge might dock you for.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Cassidy immediately agreed with a small smile. ¡°Who would¡¯ve thought years spent being hypercritical of every little thing I did could come in handy right now?¡± There was a brief moment of somewhat awkward silence before they added, ¡°I uh, I did mean that as a joke, sorry. I was--I thought if I said it like that, it¡¯d cut through the weird feelings, but I don¡¯t think it worked.¡±


    ¡°At least it¡¯s weird and awkward for both of us?¡± Paige offered a bit weakly. ¡°I know you said I don¡¯t need to apologize anymore, but I just--¡± She hesitated, before exhaling audibly. ¡°Let¡¯s go through these videos. But only for a little while, you¡¯ve gotta sleep at some point.¡±


    ¡°Yeah yeah, I¡¯ll go to bed soon enough,¡± Cassidy promised. ¡°I just--oh there, right there, I see what you mean. That leg¡¯s not tucked tight.¡±


    ¡°You do the same thing as Paintball in a jump with--check the fourth video I sent,¡± Paige suggested. ¡°The one from the guy on his fire escape. One minute and fifteen seconds in, as you come off the billboard. Your left leg almost grazes that lamppost because it¡¯s not tucked tight.¡±


    After bringing up the video in question and scanning through it, Cassidy agreed, ¡°Okay, yeah, I think you¡¯re right. It¡¯s the same thing too, I¡¯m in a rush. I think my left leg just doesn¡¯t tuck as quickly when I¡¯m jumping--it¡¯s backwards that time too. I¡¯m so focused on tucking the leg I¡¯m pushing off with that I don¡¯t think about the other one.¡±


    They went through several more clips that Paige had pulled, both from videos people had taken of Paintball being out and around, as well as the civilian Cassidy showing off at school and such. The restaurant patio had its own privacy screen, ensuring no one would overhear anything. Over nearly an hour, the two of them carefully picked apart every little move, every motion, every conceivable flaw they could find. But it was more than that. Paige advised Cassidy about how to fix those flaws, how to tuck their leg better, how to spring up faster, how to keep their body properly straight. Paige really did have a lot of practice finding ways to nitpick what Cassidy did. It had, after all, essentially been her job for years when Pittman had demanded she establish a history of conflict between them. Now she was using that for better purposes. And not just the tournament itself.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think I haven¡¯t figured out that this is your sneaky way of getting some training in even when we¡¯re thousands of miles apart,¡± Cassidy informed her. ¡°How long did it take you to dig up all these videos anyway? I¡¯m pretty sure some of those school ones aren¡¯t even online anywhere, you must¡¯ve had to text people. And honestly? I don¡¯t even wanna know what you told them you wanted those clips for.¡±


    There was another somewhat lengthy pause before Paige replied, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I uh, didn¡¯t have to ask anyone. I kept the clips myself. You know, for¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh right, you needed to show Pittman that you were doing¡­ what he wanted.¡± Cassidy grimaced before quickly pushing on. ¡°Whatever, he¡¯s--he can¡¯t make any decisions anymore, and he definitely can¡¯t tell you what to do about anything. I¡¯m just glad we found something useful to do with them. Sorry I don¡¯t really have any ¡®young Paige¡¯ videos to share if you ever get into a national tournament. You¡¯ll just have to settle for moral support.¡±


    ¡°I think I can live with that,¡± Paige assured them. ¡°But I¡¯m not planning on jumping into any tournaments any time¡­ ever. You¡¯re the one who deserves--I mean you¡¯re the one who likes all the attention.¡±


    Flushing self-consciously, Cassidy admitted, ¡°Yeah, maybe I do. But it¡¯s better from some people than others. I¡­¡± They trailed off, shifting a little. ¡°I mean, thanks for this. I think it¡¯ll help.¡±


    Paige agreed, ¡°It will, one way or another. And you know what else will help? Getting some sleep. You know, so you don¡¯t fall over when you¡¯re supposed to be competing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m going.¡± Straightening up, Cassidy hesitated before adding, ¡°Are you umm.. I mean were you--if you¡¯re gonna be--¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be watching,¡± Paige put in. ¡°Of course I will, we all will. Do you know when you¡¯re going on yet? Or what games you¡¯ll be part of?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, I¡¯ll let you know as soon as I do,¡± Cassidy promised as a feeling of relief washed over them. ¡°Thanks. I uh, I mean I¡¯m glad you guys are gonna be watching. It--I umm¡­ I¡¯ll go to bed now.¡±


    ¡°Good luck, Cassidy,¡± came the quiet response. ¡°You deserve this. Get some sleep and then go kick ass. And don¡¯t worry.


    ¡°Nothing could keep me from watching you compete.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 38B

    A TONI Who Empowers Others In¡­ A Very Unique Way


    At first glance, and most subsequent glances, the building appeared to be a little more than a game hobby shop. The sign outside advertised it as a place to buy and play an assortment of card games, board games, and tabletop games of both the roleplaying and wargaming varieties. The front room of the place was full of everything such players could need to buy, including a wide assortment of snacks. There were also several private rooms for running various games.


    Most people who knew the place only referred to it as ¡®that game place,¡¯ though it did have a name. Officially, it was known as ALotl Games, as shown by a banner behind the counter that was half-covered by stacks of sealed card booster packs and a large chalkboard with the dates and times that the various rooms in the back had already been reserved for scrawled across it.


    It was so convincing of an ordinary game store that the two teenagers who stood outside had remained there, staring uncertainly at the place for several long minutes. Both of them were around twelve or thirteen years old, and appeared similar enough to be siblings. The slightly older one was the boy, with shaggy dark hair that fell to his shoulders and an olive complexion. He wore baggy shorts and a shirt advertising a very popular basketball player. In one hand, he held a crumpled up piece of paper with the address and name of this place written quite neatly. It was his own handwriting, which he had always taken great pains to make as legible as possible.


    Next to him was his slightly younger sister, whose hair was actually shorter than his, though equally dark. She was holding a hefty gym bag over one shoulder, which she kept shifting around. Despite its weight, she had repeatedly denied her brother¡¯s offer to take it, wanting to prove she could help too. Now, she asked yet again, ¡°Are you sure this is the right place?¡±


    The boy offered a helpless shrug while continuing to stare that way. ¡°That''s what the message said, I dunno any more than you do. Maybe it was just a stupid prank after all.¡± His voice cracked a little with that suggestion, making his feelings on the subject clear. He could barely let himself admit that they might have come all this way for nothing. It was an exhausting thought, both physically and emotionally. After everything they had been through, to come this far and find out it was all a joke would most likely be enough to break the boy. He had been keeping it together for his sister''s sake, but there was only so much he could take. Already, his shoulders had slumped.


    Left to their own devices, both of them might have stood there indecisively even longer. It was hard to say how long it would¡¯ve taken them to actually step inside. But then, without any warning, a voice spoke up from behind the pair, ¡°Oh, it¡¯s certainly not a prank.¡± As they jumped and spun, the owner of the voice continued, ¡°We do play many games here, but not that sort. Our games are fun.¡±


    After spinning that way, the siblings found themselves staring at a very large (in every sense of the word) Samoan woman wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt and parachute pants, with an equally large smile. ¡°Hello there!¡± Spreading her arms wide in greeting, she added, ¡°I am Heilani, though some call me Sky Princess. The name means Crown of the Sky, you see. And you are Landry and Kelsey?¡±


    She had looked first to the boy, then the girl with that. But they both shook their heads and reflexively corrected her. ¡°I¡¯m Kelsey,¡± the boy informed her in a tone that made it clear he was very much accustomed to needing to do that when the two of them were introduced together.


    ¡°I¡¯m Landry,¡± came the addition from his sister. ¡°But you--uh¡­¡± She shifted from one foot to the other with a rather uncertain glance toward the boy. They exchanged lingering looks, both clearly debating with themselves before she pushed on with a very hesitant, ¡°You know who we are?¡±


    Heilani beamed even more brightly, her smile threatening to make the sun itself seem positively dim by comparison. It was like the moon itself was smiling at them from on high. ¡°Well of course I do, sillies! We¡¯re the ones who sent you the message, after all. So sorry to make you travel by yourselves, but ahh, the boss said you¡¯d be safer that way, and he tends to be right about that sort of thing. But come on, you must be positively famished!¡± With that, the enormous woman (she stood almost six and a half feet tall) ushered them toward the doors leading into the shop. ¡°We¡¯ll all grab a snack on the way to meeting him.¡±


    ¡°Uh, meeting who, exactly?¡± That was Kelsey, the boy already starting to move along with his sister as they were swept to the shop. ¡°We¡¯re still not--uh, exactly sure what¡¯s going on. It¡¯s just--well the message said that if we came here we could get some help with stopping our--¡±


    His words were cut off by the woman, who gently shushed him. ¡°Now now, let¡¯s not confuse and startle the regular customers.¡± She was holding the door open, gesturing for them to go ahead. ¡°We can talk properly once we¡¯re in the basement. And yes, I do know how that may sound. But I promise, nothing untoward will happen to either of you while you¡¯re with us.¡± A brief pause followed that before she winced visibly. ¡°And I know how that sounds too. There really isn¡¯t a good way of promising that this is safe without sounding like it¡¯s very much not safe, is there?¡±


    Her voice lowered, becoming barely audible as they stood there in the doorway. ¡°Kelsey and Landry, I know you have both been through quite a lot. You¡¯re tired, afraid, desperate to find someone who can help. You have come to the right place. We will help. He will help, I promise. You are safe here. No one and nothing will harm you in this building. You have my word on that.¡±


    The siblings still hesitated slightly, but the truth was that they had no better place to go, no other prospects. This was the best opportunity they had to deal with the problem they had found themselves facing. Yes, there was a risk that it was all a lie and they were being led into a trap, but the alternative was to try to handle the situation by themselves, and they didn''t stand a chance at that. Walking into this place might have been dangerous, but staying on their own would have been even worse. At least this way they might actually have some sort of actual hope.


    So, they followed Heilani through the busy store. A few people waved and greeted the cheerful woman, before turning back to their shopping or games. She led them all the way through the main floor, stopping briefly to pluck a couple ham and cheese sandwiches from a cooler, which she thrust at them. As Landry fumbled with the heavy bag, the woman gently took it from her, easily holding the thing with only a couple fingers despite its weight.


    With the bag held loosely that way, she led them onward while they quickly scarfed down the food, taking the pair past a dozen other rooms before guiding the pair down a set of stairs in the back that had been locked behind a heavy metal door with a camera and what appeared to be a very advanced biometric scanner that gave all three of them a thorough onceover. It all looked rather out of place in this gaming shop, but then, obviously few customers came all the way back here.


    The stairs led them down into the basement. It appeared to be a large, oval-shaped room, but a sort they had never seen before. The walls were all made of glass, with water beyond. Water that was full of fish of all types and colors. There were also various decorations like toy sunken ships and treasure chests, along with colorful coral. It was like being at a very fancy aquarium.


    But it didn''t stop at simply having glass walls leading to all that water. There was also a glass structure running through most of the room. It was like a long aquarium itself, standing about eye level with the teens and snaking seemingly randomly through the room, curving here and there. It was a five and a half foot tall, three foot wide glass tube of sorts, full of even more colorful fish and decorations. And it led to a large, orb-shaped aquarium in the middle of the room that was about six feet in diameter, with several large televisions and a rather fancy computer arranged around it, with cords leading from the bottom of the round aquarium to the devices themselves.


    With some urging from their guide, the siblings cautiously walked that way. They looked at one another once more before stepping right up to the glass orb. And that was when they saw the small, pink figure perched on what appeared to be a tiny beach chair in a miniature underwater version of a fancy patio. Most of the orb was taken up by a doll-sized house, though it was clear that this one was not meant for any sort of toy. It was a real, working home that just happened to be very small and underwater. A tiny house meant to be a home for that figure on the chair.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Landry found herself blurting reflexively as soon as she processed what the two of them were looking at, ¡°it''s an--uhh, wait, what are those things called again? Adoble? Alixili?¡±


    ¡°Axolotl,¡± her brother corrected reflexively while staring that way with just as much surprise and confusion written across his face. The two of them certainly hadn¡¯t expected to find this here.


    Sure enough, the figure already jumping up from the chair was one of those tiny axolotl creatures. He was only about thirteen inches long and a couple inches tall, an aquatic salamander with pink skin and six tiny, feather-like external gills that spread out from just behind his head. His expression, like so many of his kind, was already spread into the broad, vaguely goofy-looking smile that so easily endeared the axolotls to those who knew about them. Yet in this case, there was obvious intelligence behind those eyes. This was not a simple creature in any sense of the word. The small figure looked at them with recognition. His smile was not the ordinary, unintended expression his species gave that humans simply anthropomorphized. He was truly smiling at them. And, if that wasn¡¯t enough of an indicator of his true intelligence, the fact that he raised one tiny foot like a hand to wave at them probably would have done the trick.


    While the siblings watched in awe, the diminutive aquatic figure swam to the top of the dome, disappearing from sight for a moment as he passed through what looked like a metal box of some sort attached there. Before they could ask what was going on, a round section of glass in front of that metal box slid out of the way, and what looked like a long metal bridge, only several inches wide, extended toward them. Once it was in place, the metal box within the aquarium opened, allowing the axolotl to come out into the open air. He wore a small diver¡¯s helmet full of water around his head to ensure that he could continue to breathe with his feathery gills.


    ¡°Hello!¡± His voice boomed out from the helmet, as bright and cheerful as Heilani¡¯s. It also sounded a bit¡­ bubbly, like someone talking through water, or running their finger rapidly over their lips. ¡°I¡¯m very sorry to startle you like this, but it is very nice to meet you, Landry and Kelsey! My name is Oodles. Oodles Alotl, the Axolotl. This is my home, my store, and you¡¯ve met my very best friend!¡± His tiny paw raised to indicate the Samoan woman in the background. ¡°What¡¯s your favorite game? I do so love games, they¡¯re the best way of knowing someone.¡±


    Heilani gave a soft coughing noise, raising an eyebrow at him in what was clearly a gentle reminder.


    The axolotl looked abashed. ¡°Oh, sorry, I get ahead of myself. Please, how are you?¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Both teens were left gaping at him for several long seconds, before Landry managed a somewhat weak, ¡°We¡­ we¡¯re okay, I guess. But you--you¡¯re a TONI, a real live TONI.¡±


    ¡°Ayup, that¡¯s what they tell me,¡± Oodles confirmed. As he said that, the axolotl reached out one tiny foot to touch a button on the side of the metal bridge, prompting a couple holes to appear in the floor nearby before a pair of comfortable chairs rose into place for the two of them. ¡°I know this is quite a lot to take in, but you¡¯re safe here. We want to help you stop your uncle from his¡­ plan.¡±


    ¡°You know about all that for real?¡± Kelsey blurted, the boy giving his sister a quick look before adding, ¡°I mean, obviously you knew about something. We got that much from the letter you sent with the bus fare to get here, so like, thanks. But--but how did you¡­ how much do you know?¡±


    In answer, Oodles held a tiny paw out to one side. As he did so, a glowing crystal orb about the size of a baseball appeared, hovering in the air. ¡°Part of my power allows me to get¡­ warnings through this orb, about bad things that are going to happen in the future. I saw the two of you attempting to expose your uncle. I saw what would happen if you did that. You found out he was responsible for your parents¡¯ accident a year ago, because they learned about his experiments on homeless people. I saw a vision of you sneaking into his warehouse to take pictures and video to the police. But you were captured, and.. and it did not go well.¡± His tiny head shook, the diver¡¯s helmet going back and forth. ¡°I saw all of that happen in your near future. That is why I extended the invitation, to come here so that we can help you stop your uncle.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ you can really stop him?¡± Landry stammered haltingly. ¡°He has a whole bunch of guys helping him, with guns and everything.¡±


    The axolotl lifted his head, letting them see that beaming, goofy smile behind the visor. ¡°Actually, as it happens, you can both stop him. You just need a little help. That¡¯s the other part of my Touched ability. I can gift people like you with powers of your own. Powers you can use to bring your uncle to justice.¡±


    Both siblings stared at him, making soft noises of uncertainty together. Finally, Kelsey managed a weak, ¡°You can give us powers? What sort of powers?¡±


    It was Heilani who responded, the large woman¡¯s voice booming cheerfully. ¡°Oh, you guys.


    ¡°That¡¯s the fun part.¡±


    *********


    ¡°This is not the fun part,¡± Landry muttered, the girl¡¯s head shaking rapidly as she and her brother stood just down the street from their uncle¡¯s warehouse in Minneapolis. It was two days after their trip to see Oodles and Heilani in Milwaukee. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this is how his powers work. I think he¡¯s making that part up.¡±


    ¡°It does seem awfully specific,¡± Kelsey agreed with a shrug. ¡°But if it helps us stop Uncle Asher, whatever. Besides, I think we really pull it off. Me better than you, but hey.¡± He winked cheekily.


    Before Landry could respond to that, the sound of running footsteps filled the air as a half-dozen men and women wearing dark green clothing and carrying assault rifles came into view. ¡°Hey!¡± The man at the lead lifted his rifle as he shouted at them. ¡°You¡¯re Asher¡¯s nephew and niece, right? Come on, he¡¯s been looking for you.¡±


    Well, this wasn¡¯t exactly how this whole thing was supposed to go. But on the other hand, they did want to see their uncle. So, the siblings shrugged and allowed themselves to be escorted all the way to the warehouse and inside. They were taken through the main room, where a hundred or so homeless people were being kept in steel cages and fed what amounted to garbage. Neither could stand to look that way too much, instead bracing themselves for what was about to happen.


    ¡°Kelsey! Landry!¡± The sound of Uncle Asher¡¯s voice, booming through the room, made both siblings twitch. He was there, standing at the top of the nearby stairs leading to a walkway overlooking the whole room full of cages. Asher Maswold was a heavyset man in his forties, with dark tattoos covering most of his own olive skin. He wore a gray muscle shirt that was strained to its limits, and green camo pants. When he was twenty years younger, Asher had been in the military. Then he had been dishonorably discharged for running drugs. For a long time after that he had been in and out of various small gangs. But a couple years ago, he Touched, gaining enhanced strength, invulnerable skin, and the ability to make anyone he spoke to trust his words. Anyone who wasn¡¯t a blood relative. That was what led their parents to discovering his horrific experiments, and then to their deaths. And it was why Kelsey and Landry couldn¡¯t take their story to the police or Stars. The moment they questioned him, Asher¡¯s trust power would make them believe him. They¡¯d intended to get proof so they could explain the situation to the authorities in a way they would actually listen to.


    Standing there, looming over the pair from on high, Asher smiled. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you kids how much I missed you. Didn¡¯t bother going to the authorities, huh?¡±


    Straightening up as much as she could, Landry glanced around. They were surrounded by twenty armed troops by that point. To say nothing of their uncle¡¯s own abilities. Still, the thirteen-year-old stood tall and retorted, ¡°We thought about it, Uncle Asher, but then we decided to take care of you ourselves.¡±


    The man blinked at that once, then again, then laughed. His chuckle filled the room, echoing across the cages full of whimpering, terrified people. Soon, his assortment of troops joined in, until he cut them off with a sharp wave of his hand. Then he leaned over the railing, staring down at the pair. ¡°And how, pray tell, are you going to do that?¡±


    Well, here went nothing. Exchanging glances with one another one last time, the siblings nodded. Then they turned back to look up at their uncle while abruptly shouting together, ¡°Soldiers of Trust, Armored Stardust!¡±


    As soon as they said those words, a blast of light and concussive force erupted from the pair, knocking the troops surrounding them backwards with an assortment of curses. The light was white at first, before transitioning to a red-gold color as Landry¡¯s voice continued alone with, ¡°Miracle¡¯s Rise, Cross the Skies!¡±


    With that, the light shifted to a purple-silver color, with Kelsey¡¯s voice finishing, ¡°Wonder¡¯s Worth, Rise from Earth!¡±


    Finally, the light faded, revealing a very different scene before Asher and his troops. The siblings were still there, but they had changed. Now, Landry wore knee-high crimson boots with gold trim over black stockings that ran all the way up and transitioned into a pair of shorts under a red skirt with a gold belt. Above that she had a gold shirt shaped like scalemail armor, with a red long tail jacket that seemed to billow behind her despite no apparent breeze. Her features were covered by a red metallic mask that conformed to her face, with gold eyes.


    Beside her, Kelsey was wearing a very similar outfit, save for trading the red parts for purple and the gold for silver. Including the skirt, which he made a point of twirling as he spun in a circle. ¡°See, he offered me pants, but I told him I could pull this off.¡±


    Staring blank-faced down at the pair, Asher managed a rather confused, ¡°Buuuuhhh¡­ what?¡±


    Rather than give him or any of his troops more time to react, Landry spun to one side, hand snapping up as she blurted, ¡°Staggering Jolt!¡± From each of her extended fingers, a red bolt of lightning short forth. One hit two of the troops at once, while the remaining four each hit one. All six of those armed minions were lifted off their feet and sent careening across the room. At the same time, the bolts of energy seemed to wrap around their guns, keeping them in place while their owners were flung away.


    Simultaneously, Kelsey pivoted the other way. In his case, the boy lifted both hands, palms upward and fingers spread like claws as he bellowed, ¡°Let¡¯s get right to the root of the problem! Gaia¡¯s Growth!¡± Which was all the warning the half dozen troops on that side had before the cement floor was cracked apart by an assortment of literal roots pushing their way in from what had been a couple ordinary trees outside. The roots broke through the concrete and grew large enough to wrap around those four men and two women, yanking them down and imprisoning them.


    That still left about eight very well-armed, very not-happy gang members already starting to shoot at the pair in retaliation. Fortunately, the bullets accomplished very little. Oodles had promised that would be the case (it was the only reason he let the teens go on this) but the two still jumped a little as the shots simply bounced off them. There was a shield of sorts surrounding each of them, manifested by their new powers. It stole energy from incoming projectiles, meaning that bullets were slowed down, lasers became relatively harmless, and even punches and other melee attacks had little oomph behind them upon contact.


    Nor was that the limit of the abilities the two had been gifted with. Which became apparent as both launched themselves at the still-firing troops. They were each quite strong and fast, able to quickly disarm the assorted minions and fling them around. There wasn¡¯t much skill behind their fighting. Not yet anyway. But it didn¡¯t matter in that moment. Soon, all twenty of the warehouse¡¯s guards had been dispatched in one way or another, leaving Asher standing on his walkway alone, staring down at them.


    Or he was standing up there. Abruptly, the man growled and jumped off, landing between the pair. ¡°Okay, kids,¡± he snarled, grabbing Kelsey with one hand and Landry with the other. ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡± With that, he flung them both in opposite directions. Landry hit the wall while Kelsey collided with one of the cages.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Uncle Asher?¡± Landry called out to him after rolling off the wall and back to her feet. ¡°I thought you planned for everything. Did your troops getting bitch-smacked by a couple Magical Girls not cross your mind?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, what?¡± the man demanded pointedly while looking toward her brother. ¡°Magical what now?¡±


    ¡°Eh.¡± Gripping the cage to pull himself back to his feet, Kelsey replied, ¡°I¡¯m not exactly judgy on the gender thing. Haven¡¯t totally made up my mind yet, you know? Besides, how could I argue with someone who was gonna give me superpowers and make me look this fabulous?¡± He added that while doing another little spin to make the skirt twirl. ¡°And, well, to be honest, if it meant putting you in prison where you fucking belong, I would¡¯ve worn a neon tutu and coconut bra. And I¡¯d rock that too.¡±


    Muttering something about Gen T (Generation Touched, the term for those born since that became a thing) freaks, Asher cracked his neck. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll have to correct you two on a number of things. But hey, I am up to that task.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re really not,¡± both siblings intoned together. With that, even as the man was starting to retort, they each took a step forward and thrust both hands out together.


    ¡°Geb¡¯s Guffaw!¡± Kelsey shouted. ¡°Shake, rattle, and roll!¡±


    ¡°Nut¡¯s Nebule!¡± Landry added right on the heels of her brother¡¯s words.


    In response to the first, the ground under Asher¡¯s feet began to shake violently, the cement cracking apart while he was knocked to his knees. Meanwhile, the latter words summoned a thick cloud that completely blinded him. Before he could recover, both teens landed on top of him. He struggled, but soon they had attached the other thing that their benefactor had provided: a set of stay-down cuffs. The gag was just an old piece of cloth Kelsey had found, but it did the trick.


    ¡°Now what?¡± Landry asked as the cloud cleared.


    ¡°Now,¡± a small yet familiarly bubbly voice put in, ¡°the police are contacted and the situation explained.¡± It was Oodles, standing on Heilani¡¯s outstretched hand with that same diver¡¯s helmet.


    ¡°What,¡± Heilani intoned easily, ¡°you didn¡¯t think we¡¯d actually leave you to deal with this alone, did you?¡± In her other hand, the large woman held three separate unconscious guards, those who had still been outside, up by their collars. With a dismissive grunt, she tossed them aside. Then she set the axolotl down and moved to start opening cages by literally ripping the steel doors off with little effort.


    ¡°We were behind you the whole way,¡± Oodles explained. ¡°But it was important that you have a chance to stop your uncle. Now he will go to prison and you can--¡±


    ¡°We wanna do more!¡± That was Landry.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Kelsey blurted, head bobbing up and down. ¡°We can still help you, right? I mean, help you help people. You gave us this power to stop him, but we can stop other bad guys too!¡±


    The diminutive, aquatic TONI blinked, head tilting briefly. ¡°Oh. Well, normally we do these sorts of things as one-offs, so our charges can get¡­ ah¡­ back to their lives. But¡­ in this case, maybe we can make an exception. I don¡¯t need my crystal ball to know there are an awful lot of people out there who need help. But first, I really must insist you answer my question from before.


    ¡°What is your favorite game?¡±

 Wild 33-05 (Interlude Arc)

    As Paige climbed onto the ATV behind her adopted sister, an odd thought struck her. She had spent so much time and effort worrying about what sort of trouble Cassidy was surely going to manage to get themself into, and now look at what happened. She was the one who had managed to trip over this ridiculous situation. They were dealing with all these heavily armed troops taking over an entire area like this, as though they were an invading army. Meanwhile, Cassidy was back in Phoenix spending their time running races and competing in events for those games they loved so much. They were actually enjoying the vacation in their own way.


    Unless they weren''t. Wait, maybe this wasn''t a case of the roles being reversed and Paige ending up tripping into the worse situation. Maybe this really was the small, minor thing, and Cassidy had managed to get themself involved in something much more dangerous. What if this was just the distraction that the universe was using to keep Paige out of contact so she couldn''t be called for help? What the hell was Cassidy going through right now if this was a distraction?


    Looking back over her shoulder that way just as she started the engine and revved it a little bit, Irelyn asked, ¡°Hey, are you okay? You just squeezed pretty hard. I know this is a lot right now.¡±


    Paige snorted softly before raising her voice to be heard over the engine. ¡°I''m fine, trust me! I was just thinking about something else! But we better go, neither of the others are exactly the patient sort!¡± Indeed, both Sierra and Haley had started to pull out already, heading deeper into the woods. The other Biolem was sending very prodding messages through their connection to hurry the hell up, and that it really wasn''t time to be sitting around doing their nails or whatever.


    Getting the point, Irelyn sent the ATV after the others. They left the disarmed and bound troops behind. Those guys could just stay there for the time being. When this was all over, assuming they didn''t just manage to escape on their own, the real authorities could be pointed in their direction. What mattered right now was getting to that entrance and warning those people.


    And then, when it was all over and these bastards were dealt with, Paige could find out how much trouble Cassidy had managed to get into while she had been completely cut off from outside communication. Even then, it was a thought that sent a heavy shudder through the girl.


    Once they were underway and had the other two in sight just ahead of them, Paige asked Irelyn to hand her the radio attached to the front of the ATV. After a quick joke about whether she was trying to call for pizza, the older girl handed it back. Which gave Paige a chance to examine the thing, connecting to it through her finger wires to find out exactly how the thing was able to bypass the communication jammer. It took a minute, but she managed to work out enough to update her own system. Passing the update to Sierra meant their connection was improved enough to communicate within the jamming area. They still couldn¡¯t reach anyone more than about ten miles away, but at least this way they would be able to maintain contact even when they were out of sight.


    She also attempted to use the thing to monitor the mercenaries¡¯ communications. Unfortunately, whoever was in charge of the group was entirely too suspicious for that. It seemed that the radio itself had to pair with some sort of surgically-implanted device within one of people themselves in order to work properly. You couldn¡¯t just take a radio and eavesdrop on them.


    Once that was done, Irelyn spoke again. ¡°Okay, so I know this might be a weird time to say this. Or maybe it''s the best time, given who we are and all that. I''m not exactly sure. But I just-- look, I''ve enjoyed this trip with you and Sierra! And Haley! No matter what else happens before this whole bullshit with those armed bastards is over, this has been fun so far. I''ve enjoyed getting to know you, Paige, the real you! I know you still have things you can''t tell me everything about, but I want-- I want you to know that I like the¡­ you I''ve gotten to know over these past few days. I''m sorry it took so long for that to happen. And I''m sorry you had to go through three whole completely shitty parents and zero good ones.¡± She cursed darkly and rather creatively before giving a heavy sigh. ¡°You deserved better than that.¡±


    After a slight pause, Paige pointed out, ¡°I mean, two of those shitty parents were yours too, so we''re both kinda batting zero. And it turns out I got a good sister from one of those bad parents, and another from the remaining two. So I wouldn''t say it''s been a complete loss or anything.¡±


    Chuckling while sending the ATV through a bit of thick underbrush, barely keeping Haley and Sierra in sight as the other two pushed the limits of their bikes as much as they could, Irelyn put one hand on both of Paige¡¯s as they were wrapped around her waist. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve got a point there, we did more than make up for our shitty luck in parents with truly stunning siblings. And hey, bonus points, I¡¯m pretty sure you can both hook us up with some free streaming services.¡±


    Paige snorted. ¡°You know, something tells me we can afford to buy all the streaming service accounts you want. A different one for every television, computer, and phone in the house!¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± came the sniffed response, ¡°but it¡¯s the principle of the thing. Have you seen the way they¡¯ve been jacking those prices up? And then trying to say people can¡¯t share accounts even if they¡¯re family members. It¡¯s just wrong. Those guys are crooks. I¡¯m supposed to beat crooks and put them in jail, Paige. What sort of example would I be setting if I just start sending them money like that? I don¡¯t want to be sending my very impressionable sisters any mixed signals.¡±


    Paige knew the other girl was trying to distract her from the situation. Even though Irelyn had to understand by now that she could handle it, the woman obviously still felt guilty about the whole thing. She had brought them out here to relax, to take their minds off everything serious and dramatic back home. And now she was clearly blaming herself for trying to take a nice simple vacation and ending in the middle of something like this. As if she could possibly have known.


    Still, her words made the girl snicker a little before she pointedly squeezed the woman''s hand while leaning forward to make sure Irelyn heard her next words. ¡°Hey, listen, I''m glad we''re here right now! If you hadn''t brought us out here, those guys would have found the Adherents without anyone to stop them. They would have walked right in that place and taken over! Those people don''t deserve to have a bunch of armed mercenaries or whatever force them to do their building! I know what it''s like to be controlled. I''m glad we can stop it from happening here! So don''t start acting guilty. I''d rather be here to help stop these bastards than sit around and relax somewhere else while the Adherents were still being attacked!¡± She kept her voice as firm and direct as she could, wanting the words to be very clear for the other woman. If they were actually going to start properly communicating with each other and being some sort of real family from now on, she might as well start with not allowing Irelyn to take any sort of blame for this whole situation.


    Irelyn seemed to take a moment to consider those words, even as they continued to race through the woods, the ATV kicking up dirt and tearing through the underbrush, barely keeping the motorcycles ahead of them in sight. Haley was definitely in a hurry, and Sierra would take basically any excuse to go as quickly as possible. Maybe it was something about being in a body that looked just like Cassidy. Could it be a genetic sort of thing? Was there really just something about that particular body that made people in it want to do ridiculous stunts on fast vehicles?


    That was a line of thought that made Paige blush and duck her head a little, forcing the mental image away. This really wasn''t the time to think about anything like that. They had other things to focus on right now. Things like that communication blocker. Now that she¡¯d managed to use the ATV¡¯s radio to upgrade her system, the girl had been trying off and on the whole time to get some sort of signal out past that jamming, any way she could. But there was nothing, no cell service, radio, satellite, nothing. She didn''t even have anything like Cassidy¡¯s special bag to try to get a message out through Wren. They might be able to communicate with each other more effectively now, but other than that they were still completely cut off. She would keep trying various methods, just in case something happened. It was possible that the people they were dealing with might need to lower that blocker at some point so they could send their own messages somewhere else, and if that happened, Paige didn''t want to miss the chance. She''d already written up a full explanation of everything they knew so far. All she needed was a single second of a real working connection and it would be sent to the phones of everyone on Avant-Guard.


    While she was running through the full set of possible connections yet again, Irelyn abruptly interrupted by speaking up. ¡°I''m still getting used to the idea of what you are, what you both are, and what you''re capable of. Don''t get me wrong, it''s amazing. You''re amazing, and the fact that you were both able to become who you are despite who your father was, it¡­ well, it proves a lot of things about free will, that''s for sure. But still, it''s hard for me to grasp the whole situation. Half the time I have to remind myself that you''re not an ordinary, helpless teenager who needs me to protect you, and the other half I get lost in thinking about how your¡­ uh, brain basically is a metal orb. I just-- it''s like my own brain can''t decide if it wants to forget everything about what you''re capable of, or obsess about it. I have a lot of questions, but I just don''t know how rude it would be to ask them. I want to know everything about you and Sierra, but I don''t want to push too hard. I want you to know that I accept you. I''m just really curious!¡± There was a very brief pause before she weakly admitted, ¡°And maybe a little freaked out by the whole situation, but only a little! I''m sorry, it''s just a lot. But I do want you here. I want you with me. Don''t ever doubt that. No matter how curious I might be about how you¡­ are who you are you and how you¡­ um, work.¡± There was an obvious awkward flinch in her voice by the end. ¡°Sorry, is that going too far? Just tell me, and I¡¯ll never bring it up again. It seems like it might be a bit too personal to get into.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Despite herself, Paige chuckled before giving the other woman a reassuring pat on the arm just as they cut between a thick cluster of trees with thin branches that smacked against them and made both duck their heads to avoid taking sticks into their eyes. ¡°I get it! I do. I think I''d be more worried if you weren''t at least a little freaked. And yeah, you deserve to be curious! When we get through all this and have a chance to sit down again, ask anything you want, no holds barred! I¡¯ll show you my--uh, parts, my orb, all of it. I¡¯ll show you, and I¡¯ll answer any questions you have. You deserve to know everything if we''re gonna make this family thing work!¡±


    Yes, part of Paige knew it was a bit odd to be talking about all this right now of all times. But given their whole situation, their very existence and everything tied to that--well, they should probably take things as they came. And she definitely shouldn¡¯t have been the least bit surprised that they weren¡¯t discussing it at a more reasonable time. Because what the hell even was reasonable in this case? She was a Biolem, an artificial being created by a monster and given a mind and personality drawn from his own daughter. Sierra was a copy of her that had diverged both through their father¡¯s meddling and her own choices. Irelyn was a Star-Touched who had grown up under her own terrible set of parents, pushed into being one of the earliest and youngest Minority members at the time before being disowned for wanting to continue helping people. And Haley was a mercenary Touched with her own personal code of ethics and fierce loyalty to Irelyn.


    Nothing about their situations, any of them, were in any way normal. So of course they wouldn¡¯t have this sort of discussion at a normal time. And to be honest, maybe the truth was that it had taken the distraction for Irelyn to actually admit she still had a lot of questions, and that she was still a bit freaked out by the whole thing. Paige knew she was, but--well, Irelyn needed to say it. Being told that your adopted sister and her own sister, who happened to be an identical doppelganger with the daughter of the richest family in the city (and your own parents¡¯ bitter business rivals), were both biological robots with computer core brains wasn¡¯t something you just instantly accepted without any further question. At least, Paige assumed it wasn¡¯t. She¡¯d never been on that side of the situation before. But it seemed like it would take a bit more time, and involve more questions than Irelyn had actually been asking. Now, hopefully, she actually would.


    Because the truth was, Paige didn¡¯t mind questions, not from someone like Irelyn or even Cassidy. She wanted to tell them anything they wanted to know, because if they asked her those things, it would mean they accepted what she was enough to actually be interested in all that. Trying to avoid bringing up the subject, acting awkward about the whole thing, pretending she wasn¡¯t a Biolem, none of that was helpful. None of it made her feel like they actually accepted who and what she was. It just made her feel like they were trying to ignore it, and that was¡­ bad. She wanted Irelyn to prod her for every single question that ever occurred to her.


    But that was all for later, when they had a free moment. They were a bit busy right now. A fact Paige and Irelyn were both very shortly reminded of as they came up on Sierra and Haley, who had parked their bikes at the top of the next hill and were waving for them to come to a stop too.


    Quickly slowing down, Irelyn brought the ATV to a halt nearby, idling the engine while speaking up. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Are we near the entrance to this place, or did you guys see something?¡±


    It was Sierra who answered, raising a hand to point off into the distance. ¡°A bit of both, I guess.¡± The girl gave a brief glance toward Haley, who was still staring very intently that way, before continuing. ¡°Turns out the spot we¡¯re looking for is on a little island in the middle of that lake over there. But we¡¯ve got company between us and that. Very annoying and heavily-armed company.¡±


    Sure enough, when the other two looked that way they saw the lake in question. It was less than half the size of the one by the cabin they¡¯d been staying in, but there were several boats clearly patrolling the area. Or maybe they were simply searching for the very same entrance that Paige and the others were actually heading for. Either way, between those boats and a couple flying drones that were hovering in circles about fifty feet above the water, it wasn''t going to be easy to get to that island without starting a big fight that would just slow them down. Possibly enough to let that guy in the power armor and all his buddies show up. Which--yeah, that would be pretty bad.


    Stepping off the ATV, Paige moved to stand next to the bikes, making sure she didn¡¯t step out far enough to be visible to those down on the water. She thought about it for a moment before offering, ¡°Maybe the rest of us can cause a little distraction, just something enough to draw attention without making them call it in yet, while Haley gets underwater and then swims to the island. You¡¯ve got an Echo to help with moving quickly through the water and breathing, right?¡±


    Irelyn, who had joined them, shook her head. ¡°Anything big enough to draw all their attention would be enough for them to call it in. And even if they didn¡¯t, whoever caused the distraction would just have all those people to deal with. There¡¯s a huge risk that we¡¯d just be drawing all those eyes right to this area. It¡¯s not exactly painting a bullseye on the entrance for them, but close enough. I don¡¯t want to do anything that narrows their search area even more than it is.¡±


    Grunting before giving a soft curse under her breath, Haley nodded. ¡°Normally I¡¯d be all for running straight in there and doing all the damage we can to those fuckers and damn any of the consequences. But I owe the Adherents too much to risk that. We need to get there quietly.¡±


    ¡°What if they aren¡¯t being drawn to this location?¡± Sierra put in. ¡°What if the rest of us go somewhere else, just close enough that these people would be the first drawn away to play reinforcements. Is there a good area we can convince them to focus on that¡¯s far enough away?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee they¡¯d all leave,¡± Irelyn murmured, ¡°but maybe enough of them would to create an opening. Especially if they send the drones. Still, I don¡¯t think any of us should be alone.¡± She looked toward Haley pointedly. ¡°You need someone else to play lookout and backup.¡±


    ¡°Sierra and I can draw their attention,¡± Paige immediately announced. ¡°We¡¯ll go far enough away that they won¡¯t realize the lake is the right spot, and cause a big commotion. We can make it look like they spotted us trying to get into the place and then disappear so they throw all the drones they can into tracking us down again. Or finding the spot we were trying to get to.¡±


    As soon as she¡¯d finished saying it, Irelyn was already starting to shake her head. ¡°Paige, I can¡¯t just let you two go off by yourselves to be hunted down by a bunch of armed men. That¡¯s not--I know you¡¯re capable. More than capable. But that¡¯s a bit much, I--I can¡¯t do that.¡±


    Paige blinked once. The idea that Irelyn would object to them putting themselves in danger hadn¡¯t even occurred to her. She needed to--she should probably--what could she say that could make-


    ¡°So we¡¯ll split up the other way,¡± Sierra cut in smoothly, giving Paige a quick nudge. ¡°I¡¯ll stay here and help Echo. You two go play distraction. That way you can get back here more easily anyway, with the whole jumping thing. Plus the two of us can communicate to get the timing right, and we¡¯re each with an¡­¡± She hesitated, giving an appraising look toward Haley. ¡°... adult?¡±


    ¡°Hey, I legally qualify,¡± the woman retorted before sighing. ¡°Sort of. But that¡¯s probably the best we¡¯re gonna do if you don¡¯t want anyone to be left alone, Ires. The two of us can get in there while you guys play distraction. Just like we did back with the Gamigin when they tried to--¡±


    ¡°We were idiot teenagers with a death wish,¡± Irelyn cut her off. ¡°But--yeah, fine. Paige and I can draw them away. You two¡­ be careful. Don¡¯t be dumb, either of you.¡± She sounded like she was regretting agreeing to this already, but still couldn¡¯t come up with anything better.


    ¡°C¡¯mon kid, before Captain Responsible changes her mind.¡± With that, Haley grabbed Sierra by the arm to pull her off through the trees. ¡°Let us know when you¡¯re about to make your move. If you go about a mile northwest, you¡¯ll find this little ghost town of cabins. It should be enough to make them think there might be something there if you lead them to it. Good luck! Hugs and kisses!¡±


    Then they were gone, leaving Paige squinting at Irelyn. ¡°So I guess we¡¯re doing this? We should umm, take the motorcycles. They¡¯re faster and more maneuverable, which might be important once we get them to chase us. I think we can--¡±


    Before she could say anything else, Irelyn caught her hand and tugged her into an embrace. Then she nodded. ¡°Tell Sierra to be careful, and that the next time she runs off without letting me give her a hug before we do something this dangerous, she¡¯s totally grounded.¡±


    With that, the two of them moved to the motorcycles, started them up once more, and headed out in the opposite direction than the way the other pair had gone. It was time to draw an entire mercenary army down on their heads.


    Yeah, if this was how she was being kept busy, Paige was definitely terrified about what sort of trouble Cassidy had obviously managed to get themself into.

 Patreon Snippets 38C (Summus Proelium)

    Cassidy And Sterling See Each Other On The Hotel Balconies During That Phone Call (Non-Canon)


    As Cassidy Evans stood on the balcony of the hotel and answered the call from their father, a heavy sigh escaped them. This entire situation was so complicated. They had to pretend to be back in Detroit instead of in the same building--practically the same room as the man. What if he asked them to do something back there? What if he was like, ¡®oh hey could you run down to the courthouse and tell them blah blah blah?¡¯ Could they just say they were on their own vacation as requested and weren¡¯t actually in Detroit at the moment? Would it be that simple, or would that just complicate things even more?


    Eh, it wasn¡¯t like they had a choice with that. If Dadsmith did ask them to do something that required they be in the city, they¡¯d have to make something up. What was he going to do, ask their parents to confirm the excuse?


    The moment their father¡¯s--well Silversmith¡¯s--helmet appeared onscreen, Cassidy immediately started talking, injecting as much forced casualness into their voice as possible. They had to make it seem like this was no big deal, while getting off the phone quickly. ¡°If this is about making sure I¡¯m not out fighting more supervillains, I¡¯m pretty sure you could just check the news.¡± Okay, there. They managed to get through that whole sentence without their voice squeaking too much.


    Their dad chuckled easily at that, head shaking as he replied. ¡°I promise, it isn¡¯t about babysitting you. Actually, Paintball, I called to ask¡­¡± Wait, hold on, something about his voice was¡­ wrong? There was a problem there. It sounded different coming out of the phone, even before he trailed off. It was like the voice was echoing a bit, like it was coming both from the phone and from--


    On the video call, Silversmith had very slowly turned to look to the side. Cassidy did the same instinctively, and found themself looking across the roughly twenty foot distance to the balcony of their parents¡¯ room. There he was. Their father, as Silversmith, was standing out on that balcony, phone hovering in front of him on a little silver platform as he stared right at Cassidy-As-Paintball.


    Everything stopped. It was like the world itself had frozen. Every precaution they had taken, every bit of care they¡¯d exercised, every bit of luck they¡¯d experienced, all if it had been erased in that one single instant. There was no warning, no idea that this would be the end of months of work, no voice in their head telling them to be prepared for something catastrophic. Just like that, in a single fateful moment and with one simple choice to walk out on that balcony for this call, it was over. Their life, possibly. Well, their life as they had known it, anyway. Everything had changed.


    But time hadn¡¯t actually frozen, of course. The seconds, few as they were, continued to tick by bit by bit while the two helmeted figures stared at one another, both father and child shocked for their own reasons. Cassidy had known the truth already, all of it really, so their own reaction was more of a shocked panic and exploding rush of fear. Sterling, on the other hand, had really known absolutely nothing about that, had had no warning that it was his own child who was running around the city as Paintball. He¡¯d had no idea that Cassidy had even suspected anything about the Ministry. The man might as well have been hit by a truck while standing on that top floor balcony. It would have been less shocking to him at that moment than what actually happened.


    Any number of things could have happened next. Either of them could have reacted in any of a thousand or more different ways. They could have explained each of their sides, could have spoken to one another, could have had a real conversation right there on the balconies. They could have taken this as a chance to understand one another without any more secrets or lies.


    They could have done a great many things that would have kept both of them in that hotel and actually talking things through. Instead, the first thing Sterling did was reflexively take a step to that side of the balcony. His voice rose, strained with disbelief and deep uncertainty. ¡°Cassidy?¡±


    That was as far as he got, that single step and that single word. As they heard their father, as Silversmith, say their real name while staring at them as Paintball, Cassidy panicked. Well, they were already panicking, of course. But something broke in them then. Something in their mind snapped like a rubber band being stretched too far. Hearing their name right then was too much to deal with. Instantly, they activated green paint on their costume and flung themself off the balcony. In the background, they could hear their father say their name again, shouting it that time. But they had already jumped and were plummeting rapidly down the side of the building.


    Of course, they didn¡¯t fall for long. They were panicked and afraid, not suicidal. A hand extended, shooting a line of rainbow-colored paint toward one of the empty balconies several stories further down and on the opposite corner of the hotel, as far as the paint could reach. The second it hit, they appeared there, the blob of rainbow liquid becoming them as their old body melted away.


    As they landed on the railing of that balcony, Cassidy could see a man just inside the actual room drop the glass of orange juice he was holding. He looked shocked, understandably enough. But they couldn¡¯t worry about that. They couldn¡¯t worry about anything besides where their dad was. And in that moment, as they looked over their shoulder, they could see his own form flying through the air. He had clearly started to jump after them, only to stop and adjust when they teleported. Unfortunately, as convenient as the rainbow paint was, there was no way for them to use it without making it perfectly clear where they were going. They had to physically shoot the paint that way, advertising to anyone who was watching the exact spot they would teleport to.


    Proving that he hadn¡¯t been made the leader of the Detroit Conservators simply because of his Ministry connections or deep pockets, Silversmith was already reacting to Paintball¡¯s redirection. He had been reacting even as they started to teleport, at the moment he saw the rainbow paint going that way. His reaction speed was such that he had actually already shifted his direction from heading for the spot Cassidy had been, to going toward the railing they appeared on, before they had even physically teleported. And now he was almost on top of them, blurting, ¡°Cass--¡±


    They didn¡¯t let their father get any further, and they sure as hell didn¡¯t stick around to let the man grab them. In their panic at the unexpected, unplanned reveal, they weren¡¯t actually considering anything except escaping. They weren¡¯t thinking about the fact that this was their own dad, who would never really hurt them. After all, he had chosen to have their memories erased once before. Who was to say he wouldn¡¯t do the same thing again just to make life easier for himself? And if they lost their memories now, if he caught them and had Kent erase their mind, erase everything they had become in these past few months--no, not they absolutely couldn¡¯t let that happen. Never again. They would never let Kent near their mind like that, no matter what it took.


    Right then, what it took was getting away from their father. Figuring out what to do after that would come once they managed that--if they managed that. They just had to get the hell away.


    Just before their father would have reached them, Cassidy leapt from that balcony without saying a word. Usually in this sort of situation, well at least in a chase like this, they would have been making bad jokes, taunting the person chasing them. But now, in this case, there were no jokes forthcoming. There was no taunting. They were running away in what was a nearly blind panic.


    And speaking of blind, just as they flung themself off the railing, the green-white blob they had left there went off. Sterling was hit by a shockingly bright flash that made him reel backward while his child used red paint to yank themself to another railing and then blue-paint launched themself further.


    But it didn¡¯t last. The bright flash should have blinded him for a few seconds, except he was prepared for that sort of thing. Not for Paintball themself to blind him of course, but it wasn¡¯t as though that sort of attack was something completely unique to them. The man had long since taken to wearing special contact lenses, especially while in costume. The lenses were Touched-Tech, immediately darkening when they detected the bright flash, just long enough to save his vision.


    He recovered far more quickly than he should have, and was already following after Cassidy. He wasn¡¯t thinking about warning his wife in that moment, or about whether Izzy knew anything. He wasn¡¯t even thinking about how it would look for people to see Silversmith chasing Paintball in a completely different city. The only thing--only thing on his mind was catching up with his child.


    ¡°Paintball!¡± Shocked as he was, reeling as he might have been, he still wasn¡¯t about to shout the name Cassidy while clearly chasing after Paintball in public, even if they were in a different city. He had far too much experience to make that sort of blunder, no matter what was happening. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Head shaking off the momentary setback as the contacts lightened so he could see again, the man sent himself flying after his child. Some inner part of him was shouting that he couldn¡¯t just keep chasing Cassidy, that he was making the situation worse by going after them, but he didn¡¯t listen to that. He couldn¡¯t listen to it. All he could do was think about everything Cassidy had been going through, everything they were going through. He imagined the panic and fear in their mind right then and wanted to fix it. Sterling desperately wanted to help his child, unable to focus on the fact that he was the actual reason for that panic and fear. Everything was just happening so quickly.


    As for Cassidy themself, the silently screaming alarm in their head made it impossible to think of anything except getting away. It was like every single Cassidy from every single day since that moment back at that motel when they Touched was screaming at them all at once. They were so dumb, they had fucked up, why didn¡¯t they check the balcony, why didn¡¯t they make sure it was safe, why had they gotten so damn complacent! If they could just go back and have one more chance, they¡¯d do it right, they would put up the privacy screen, they wouldn¡¯t screw up and expose their identity to their father like that. One more chance, one reset, just let this be a dream, a very bad dream. They could wake up from this nightmare, shudder a bit, and just move on.


    But there was no waking up. There was no fixing this or going back. There would be no do-over. They had screwed up. After all the precautions, all the worrying, after everything they had done over these past months, it was all over. Their father knew who they were, and soon so would their mother, brother, and the rest of the Ministry. Their entire life as they had known it was over.


    The sound of their father¡¯s voice blurting the name Paintball, even if he wasn¡¯t saying their real name, sent a heavy shudder through them. They were already launching themself off that next railing with the puddle of blue they¡¯d hit it with, but with that sound and the realization that the flash had failed to blind him, they extended one hand to send a shot of green-red toward the roof of the parking garage in the distance to make themself fly that way even faster. They rocketed toward the car-filled lot, head shaking in a useless attempt to shut out the sound of their father¡¯s voice. They just had to escape! The screaming past Cassidy voices were very united in that.


    Just before landing on top of that parking garage, practically feeling their father¡¯s approach right behind them and half-expecting to be grabbed any second, Cassidy sent several quick shots of red paint toward a vending machine that was sitting next to the elevator meant to allow people to easily get to any of the garage floors. The other bit of red was attached to their own costume. With a loud screeching noise and the sound of dozens of soda cans being flung around inside, the vending machine was yanked off its spot and went flying toward them. Which was when they cancelled that paint and activated a set of green bird wings on their back, making themself drop toward the parking garage faster even as the vending machine flew right over their head, its momentum carrying it toward Silversmith. They weren¡¯t afraid of actually hurting him with that. The man had been hit worse than that without any problem. They just needed to buy a second.


    Sure enough, Sterling didn¡¯t even let the vending machine reach him. A pair of heavy silver blades appeared in the air, slicing the thing in two before transforming into claws that grabbed both halves and pulled them out of the way. Unfortunately for the man, that meant that all those cans of soda were breached in the process and filled the air in front of him with a wild spray of brown carbonated liquid. His vision was cut off for just a moment as he passed through that spray.


    Knowing they only had an instant, if that much, Cassidy acted immediately as soon as they landed on that parking garage next to one of the large pickup trucks. Shifting into their liquid form and turning pink, they melted down into a puddle and slid themself under the vehicle. But they didn¡¯t stop there, continuing to puddle-slide around to the far side of the rear tire and then up onto the tire itself. They oozed up the tire until they were on top of it, hidden by the truck¡¯s wheel well.


    Sterling, by that point, had passed through the cloud of soda. He let the silver claws drop the vending machine pieces out of the way, while landing smoothly on the cement between a couple vehicles. His eyes scanned every which way, searching for any sign of his child, or anyone else. Nothing, there was no one else here. It was too early for many people to be up, especially here in a city so focused on nighttime events. Even the opening events for the LEAT games wouldn¡¯t start for several hours yet. Anyone using this parking garage was still asleep over in the hotel.


    With all the emotions running through him right then, Sterling had to stop. He stood there, gaze lowering to stare at his own silver-armored feet. In truth, the man was only a few feet from where his child was curled up in their liquid form on top of the tire of the truck. Close enough for him to reach out and touch the vehicle. But he didn¡¯t know that. For all Sterling knew, he could be alone. His child could have slipped off the building and left already. Paintball was obviously good at getting out of tight places. He¡¯d--they¡¯d had a lot of practice at that over these past months. Hell, their career--their life as a Touched had started at that motel with them getting away from Simon.


    That was a thought that made the man close his eyes tightly. His helmet disappeared, as did the rest of his armor. He dismissed the costume and stood on that roof not as Silversmith, but as himself, as Sterling. Whatever came next, whatever happened, he wanted to be his true self.


    Cassidy, still in puddle form on that tire, heard their father land nearby. Was he looking right at them? Did he already know exactly where they were? He was their dad, for so long he had always seemed to know everything. Then they had spent months with him having no idea that they were Paintball. But now he did know that. Now he knew the truth. So was he standing there, somehow using that magic dad sense to know exactly where they were hiding? Was he about to open his mouth and tell them to come on off the tire already? It wouldn¡¯t surprise them.


    Wait, right there. The truck was sitting near a drainage pipe thing that would lead all the way to the ground. Their dad was standing on the opposite side of the vehicle, he wouldn¡¯t see the pipe. They could slide over to it, squeeze into the thing, and ride it as far as they needed to. They could get out of this place, find another place to hide with a bit more privacy, and send Izzy a warning. What they would do after that was anyone¡¯s guess. They hadn¡¯t thought that far. But if they were quick and quiet, they could get out of here. They could escape and then¡­ and then disappear.


    The parking garage was almost silent. Save for a slight hissing sound from a few broken soda cans, there was nothing at all to hear. Sterling took a soft, short breath, listening to his own inhale before speaking. He didn''t quite shout, though he did try to make sure he could be heard across this roof. If Cassidy was here, if they hadn''t already left, he wanted them to hear what he had to say. Whether they would listen, or that they would believe him, whether they were even still with an earshot, he had no idea. All he could do right then was talk and hope.


    ¡°I''m sorry.¡± Those were the first words out of his mouth, the most important thing he had to say right then. ¡°I''m sorry for how you found out everything. I''m sorry about how you were brought into this. I''m sorry you were afraid, and I am ashamed that we are the reason for it. I''m sorry you''ve spent all this time being terrified about this very moment.¡±


    He had to swallow the hard lump in his throat then, the admission that he had been in any way responsible for terrifying his own child and leaving them too afraid to be themself in their own home making the man want to drive his fist into his chest. He would rather take his heart and physically crush it than willingly make his own child feel that way.


    ¡°I thought about how to tell you the truth so many times. From the moment I held you in my arms the first time, when you were so small, I planned all these different ways that I could tell you everything. There were so many chances, so many opportunities. But we always took the easy way out. We didn''t tell you when we should have. I told myself that we wanted you to have a normal childhood, or at least as normal as you could. And that is part of the truth. But another part is that I didn''t want you to have to make a choice. I didn''t want to take the chance that you''d look at me differently. I didn''t want to take the chance that you would see me as being someone so much worse than your dad.¡±


    Slowly moving out to the main part of the lot, he continued a bit shakily. ¡°You are my child. You will always be my child. Whatever happens, whatever you decide to do, I want you to know that. We would never, ever choose to hurt you. We''ve made mistakes. We''ve made bad choices. But we love you. I love you. I''m sorry about every bad choice we''ve made, but we won''t make one now. We won''t force you to do anything. When you''re ready, please talk to me, talk to us. It can be on your terms, over the phone, any way you want to do it. We''ll figure out what to do. And none of us will ever force you to do anything you don''t want to.¡±


    He went quiet then, standing there in silence for a few long seconds. His entire body was trembling with emotion. He didn''t even know if his words had been heard at all. All he could do was say them and hope. There was more he wanted to say, but he would have been repeating himself. So, Sterling swallowed and turned to walk away.


    Or he started to. But as he pivoted, the man found something in his way. Or someone.


    ¡°Dad.¡± That was all Cassidy said. Their voice cracked even in the process of saying that single word. They weren¡¯t wearing their helmet anymore. Their face was exposed, so he could see the torn, conflicting emotions there. They didn¡¯t know if they should be doing this, but it was the choice they were making. Wrong or right, it was theirs.


    Sterling froze. Standing there motionless, he stared at his child in silence before slowly going down to one knee. Without moving forward, he opened his arms, waiting, not trusting his voice.


    Cassidy took a step that way, then stopped. Their eyes shifted to look away, hands clenching and unclenching. Then they stepped forward again. They were right in front of their father.


    ¡°Dad,¡± they repeated, almost silently. ¡°I¡­¡± Trailing off as something inside them twisted and snapped, Cassidy took that last step, moving right up against their father¡¯s chest. They felt his arms close around them, felt him hold them, and slumped against the man. Their own arms went around him, and both stood there together. Father and child each spoke together, their voices meeting one another.


    ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±

 Patreon Snippets 38D

    Cassidy should have known something was wrong from the moment she left school and stepped into the backseat of the car her parents had sent. Not because the man behind the wheel wasn¡¯t Jefferson, given she knew full well that he was going to be busy taking her father to meetings all day. No, her warning should have come when she noticed the driver chewing gum. Jefferson hated gum chewing inside any of the cars he was responsible for, and had made it clear to the other drivers that it wasn¡¯t allowed. They could chew gum outside the car, but never inside. The moment she realized the man had a stick of Juicy Fruit in his mouth, she should have bailed out before the car could even pull away from the curb. But she was distracted.


    That distraction would prove to be quite the mistake indeed. As she let the door close behind her and settled in for what should''ve been a simple drive home, the car pulled away smoothly. Unfortunately, the sound of the radio was swiftly overtaken by a rising hiss that made her first look to the window, expecting to see it slightly ajar, then toward the driver when that proved to be firmly shut. Only when faced with her own reflection in the closed dividing window did she finally notice the source of the loud hiss: a cloud of dark red smoke filling the passenger compartment.


    Instantly, Cassidy raised a hand to paint the door so she could bail out. But then she hesitated. What was she doing? If she used paint now, whoever this person was, and whoever he was working with, would know she was Paintball. It would be the end of her secret identity, for good. She couldn¡¯t expose herself that easily. There had to be another way to get out of this, another¡­ another¡­ her thoughts drifted, vision fading rapidly. The gas, the gas was¡­ it was¡­ oh no. She slumped to the side, making a soft noise of confusion as her consciousness was chased away.


    By the time Cassidy woke up, she wasn¡¯t in the car anymore. She had no idea how long she had been out, but the first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was the moon through a distant window across what turned out to be a large warehouse, so it must have been hours, at least.


    The second thing she saw after she opened her eyes was the reason she had woken up right then. Namely, the paw that had just poked her face. A paw that belonged to a scowling lynx perched very close to her. As soon as her gaze managed to focus on that enough to understand what she was actually looking at, the girl snapped awake with a gasp, jerking backward reflexively.


    ¡°Hey there, little princess,¡± the lynx spoke with clear amusement at her reaction. He bared his teeth in a way that made Cassidy want to lean as far away from him as possible. ¡°Fancy meeting you here. What¡¯s the matter, not the palace you¡¯re accustomed to waking up in?¡±


    No mask--no helmet--no, she wasn¡¯t--this wasn¡¯t a Paintball thing. Somehow, that threw Cassidy off so much more than simply waking up in front of this TONI lynx. Fogwalker. It had to be Fogwalker. She¡¯d seen him once before, when the Trendscendants had attacked the park trying to get at Inessa. But this--this was different. She wasn¡¯t in her costume, she wasn¡¯t acting as Paintball. She was just Cassidy here. Sure, she had her powers, but if she used them, Fogwalker and the others--right, others. He wasn¡¯t alone. She realized that belatedly, gaze shifting to take in her surroundings. The rest of the Trendies were scattered around her throughout the warehouse. Theory (he was the one who was out at the moment between himself and Praxis), Banneret, Juice, Devil''s Due, and probably worst as far as she was concerned, Janus. The two-faced figure, who would have done their level best to break every bone in her body if they realized she was Paintball, were standing over near the same window she had seen the moon through.


    Nor were only the Touched members of their gang here. This must have been one of their primary hideouts, because there were a dozen or so Prev troops scattered through the place as well. The whole warehouse was clearly locked down tight. Everywhere she looked, there was another Fell-Touched or several people with guns. And not a single one of them looked like they cared what happened to her. Actually, most of them weren¡¯t really paying attention to her. They seemed to be very focused on their own things. Only Fogwalker, Banneret, and Theory were focused on their prisoner.


    Okay, she could deal with this. She could get out of here. They kept her alive so far so they probably weren¡¯t planning on killing her. There was no reason to wake her up if they just wanted her dead. And this wasn¡¯t about her being Paintball. They didn¡¯t know about that. No, they were obviously going to try to hold her hostage and get her family to pay some sort of ransom.


    So, if they were keeping her alive for a ransom, she could get out of this. The second they left her in another room alone somewhere, or with just a single guard, she could deal with them and slip out without actually exposing her powers. She could make that work, right?


    ¡°You know who we are, kid?¡± That was Theory, the man stepping closer to crouch next to the lynx. When she gave a slow nod, he offered a smile. ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re gonna be fine. See, your parents are loaded. I¡¯m sure you know that. Which means that they are going to pay an arm and a leg to get you back safe and sound.¡±


    Banneret gave an easy nod, nudging Cassidy with a foot. ¡°Yeah, we just have to motivate them to understand that we mean business. But don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be fine. Not a scratch on your pretty little head.¡±


    Great, so far things were working out. Well, not really. She¡¯d been kidnapped by a gang of Fell-Touched and now they wanted to threaten her to force her parents to pay up. But that was okay. They didn¡¯t know what she was. They thought she was just some helpless little kid. All she had to do was keep playing along, wait for the right opening, and then slip out before--


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Both mouths of Janus blurted from their spot by the window. Uncle Friendly continued, his face turning to face her as they came closer. ¡°Just one thing first. We¡¯ll have to prove how serious we are.¡± One of their massive hands reached out toward her face, only to stop short as both of them laughed. The face on the other side of their head, Mister Harmful, snickered a bit more before snapping, ¡°Did we scare ya, kid? Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re not the one we¡¯re making an example out of.¡±


    With that, Uncle Friendly whistled. Before Cassidy could process what was happening, someone else was dragged over by a couple of the Prevs. A rather familiar someone.


    ¡°Cassidy!?¡± San Francisco blurted, head shaking. ¡°What--what do these guys want? What do you people want!? I told you, my parents will pay whatever ransom--¡±


    ¡°Shhhh.¡± One of Janus¡¯s big hands moved to silence the boy, touching his mouth. ¡°Sorry, kid, you¡¯re not here as the hostage. We have to make sure this one¡¯s parents take us seriously. You¡¯re nothing more than collateral damage. And when the kid tells her folks what happened, when she¡¯s stammering and crying on the phone, we really need it to be realistic.¡±


    They weren¡¯t even looking at San¡¯s reaction, weren¡¯t taking in the fear there, the desperation, the panic. None of them were. They didn¡¯t care about San at all. They were all looking at Cassidy. They wanted her to be afraid. They wanted her to be terrified. They were going to kill--kill San right in front of her, just to motivate her to beg her parents to get her out of there, to pay these people anything they wanted.


    The boy was stammering, pleading, desperately begging them to let him go. But Janus moved one hand onto the boy¡¯s head, squeezing while staring right at her. He was going to make her watch while he twisted San¡¯s head and broke his neck right there. Not because they hated him, but because he was just¡­ there. He was a tool for them to use.


    San Francisco didn¡¯t matter to them.


    But he mattered to her.


    Just as San screamed, just as that giant hand started to twist, Cassidy made the only choice she could. She did what she had to do.


    Her arm rose. A shot of red paint shot from her palm, hitting that giant hand even as a quick adjustment sent another shot at the nearby floor. At the same time, green-blue paint appeared under her feet as she launched herself up and forward. Orange dots appeared on her shirt. Janus¡¯s massive arm was yanked out of the way, leaving San¡¯s head as both conjoined men gave twin yelps of surprise. As Cassidy was launched forward and up by the paint, she inverted, extending her leg while shooting two more bits of red past the men to hit the far wall. Activating the matching paint on her body, she felt herself be yanked that way even faster, the combined pull from the red paint and push from green-blue rocketing her that way. Her foot collided with Uncle Friendly¡¯s face hard enough to knock them over. They hit the floor hard, with Cassidy landing on top of them.


    Everything froze like that, going completely still and silent. The shock from everyone in the room was practically a tangible thing.


    ¡°Well,¡± Cassidy managed in a voice that cracked from nerves and emotions, ¡°you gotta admit one thing.


    ¡°You guys just make the worst kidnapping choices.¡±


    *******


    These Trendscendants were going to die. Each and every one of them, new and old alike, were going to suffer in every conceivable way. None of them were leaving this warehouse. Sterling and Elena were going to make sure of that. The two of them, along with Minister Gray (Fisher was out), Simon (as Squire), Kent, his wife Mills, and Alcazar were together. Plan Z had already found the place, tracking the soon-to-be dead bastards down. She was in there now, ready to step in the second it looked these fucks might do something even more stupid than they already had. Sterling was suited up as Silversmith, his wife and the others all under various illusions to disguise their identities.


    Not that it mattered. They took Cassidy. They abducted Sterling¡¯s child. He didn¡¯t care what else happened, what their excuses were. He didn¡¯t care if they didn¡¯t actually plan on hurting her at all. They were all going to die. A point had to be made, a line drawn.


    They would make an example out of these people that wouldn¡¯t be forgotten for decades.


    A warning came from Z then. They needed to get in there right now. The stupid bastards were going to kill innocent child, one of Cassidy''s classmates, just to prove a point. Or they were going to try to. They wouldn''t let them get that far. She was warning Sterling and the others that she was about to make herself known. Which meant if they wanted to be involved in this, they needed to get in that building immediately.


    She should have said something else. Sterling expected her to report that the first target was down, that the boy was safe. But there was nothing. Z had gone completely silent. And it wasn''t because she didn''t want to give herself away. She had an implanted bit of tech that allowed her to subvocalize, speaking without making any sound where she was, which would nonetheless translate into audible words for Sterling and the others. She could report without making any noise. But she wasn''t saying anything. For some reason, a reason Sterling was pretty sure he wouldn''t like, she had gone completely silent.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Then they reached the open garage doors leading into the warehouse, and he saw why. They all saw why. At the same time, Sterling felt the familiar tickle of his wife¡¯s illusion falling over him. She wasn¡¯t changing his appearance. No, she was making him, all of them, invisible. All so they could stand there, right in that large doorway, staring at what was happening inside.


    Janus was on their back--well they didn¡¯t really have a back. They were lying down, with Cassidy¡­ Cassidy was perched on top of them. She was just standing there, one foot planted on Uncle Friendly¡¯s chest and the other on his face. Everyone in the room looked shocked for some¡­ some reason. What was going on? Sterling had thought that seeing his daughter with these people would leave him blind with rage, but somehow all he could do right then was stand there, trying to process what he was seeing. How could Cassidy have knocked Janus down?


    In a corner of the wide-open warehouse room, Devil¡¯s Due opened his mouth. But before he could say anything, before he could put his persuasion power into play, Cassidy had already turned. Her hand went up. At first, Sterling thought she was about to throw something at him, or just point that way for some reason. But no. No, what she did was far more shocking than that. As she brought her hand up, a very familiar tiny blob-like ball of paint, black in this case, appeared hovering in her palm. Then a shot of that black paint flew across the warehouse and smacked into the man¡¯s forehead. He reeled backward from the impact, while Sterling felt himself reel just as much.


    Paint. Cassidy hit the man with a shot of black paint. They didn¡¯t even have to look closer to see that Devil¡¯s Due was trying to talk without any sound coming out. The paint had left him mute.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Cassidy was saying, ¡°but I really think we¡¯re all dealing with a very emotional moment right now and don¡¯t really need you throwing in your two cents. How about--¡± Janus had recovered enough to try to grab her then, but she was already using blue paint to bounce off their fallen, prone form. ¡°--we just let you have some--¡± She flipped over in the air, his Cassidy just flipping upside down after launching herself fifteen feet up, and sent two quick shots of red paint flying. ¡°-- quiet time!¡± The twin red blobs struck two of the armed troops who had been recovering enough to start grabbing for the weapons resting nearby. They were yanked toward one another and away from those weapons, colliding heavily before both fell to the floor together.


    The kid, San Francisco, was there too. He was just standing there, open-mouthed while a sound of bewilderment escaped him. In that moment, Cassidy had landed on a nearby table, flipping over once more in the process to come down in a crouched position. As the boy gaped at her, she shot red paint into his chest, hitting the ceiling with another shot. Immediately, he was yanked upward and sent flying there, where he stayed out of the line of fire.


    By that point, Fogwalker, the TONI lynx, had scrambled around and started to lunge up into the air while his thick, blinding fog began to spread from his form. It would fill the room up quickly, remaining transparent for his allies but turning dark and impossible to see through for Cassidy, as well as Sterling and the others. But before the fog could spread more than a couple feet out from the figure, he was caught in mid-leap by three shots of paint in rapid succession. The first two were a combination pink-blue, while the third was red.


    Just before Fogwalker would have collided with her, she clearly activated that paint. The red yanked the TONI across the room to hit the far wall where a matching spot had been hit. The moment he collided with that, however, the pink-blue paint must have kicked in. Because he was instantly catapulted in the opposite direction. A strangled, startled cat-yowl filled the room as Fogwalker went careening across the room like he had been shot out of a cannon. With a loud crash of breaking glass, he flew through the window and out into the darkness. His dark cloud went with, clearing the room.


    By that point, Banneret had recovered enough from her surprise to make what looked like half a dozen guns float into the air and spin around to point that way. Seeing all those weapons pointed at his daughter as she crouched on that table would absolutely have been enough to snap Sterling out of his own shock enough to intervene. But Cassidy was already ahead of him on that. She was ahead of all of them, largely thanks to how surprised they were. Ministry and Trendscendants alike were still too surprised to actually react properly. In a fight like this, being caught flat-footed for even a mere few seconds could decide the entire course of it. The Trends were trying to recover enough to fight back. And in a fair fight, they absolutely would have been far too much for Cassidy to handle, even if she was¡­ even if she was¡­ was¡­ who she was. In a fair fight, she would have been overwhelmed quickly. But this wasn¡¯t fair. The Trends had thought they were guarding a helpless little girl who couldn¡¯t fight back at all, not¡­ not¡­ this.


    Even as those guns hovered in the air and turned to face Sterling¡¯s daughter, she was already acting by sending a wide spray of red paint from one hand and blue paint from the other. The colors mixed as they hit the assortment of hovering weapons and instantly yanked them all out of Banneret¡¯s control and sent them slamming straight to the floor with a loud clattering sound.


    By that point, Cassidy was flipping backward off the table she had landed on, even as Theory was hit by a shot of red paint. Which was apparently matched by one on the table itself, given the way it abruptly flew over there to slam right into the man. He was knocked backward with a cry, the impact distracting him enough that he couldn¡¯t focus properly to give Praxis a new power and switch out. That distraction was added to a second later as Cassidy hit the bottom of the table with another shot of red and used that to yank herself that way, flipping over in the air so her feet collided with the table to knock the man all the way into the wall. He collided hard with it and slumped with a wheezing cry even as she rebounded backwards off the table she¡¯d hit him with.


    Banneret, by that point, had recovered from her controlled weapons being yanked to the floor, and instead focused on a collection of knives, making those hover up and take aim at Cassidy, at Sterling¡¯s daughter. Just before she could send them flying that way, however, Sterling flicked a finger in her direction. A small silver ball appeared just long enough to collide with the woman¡¯s head. She pitched over sideways and collapsed, the knives clattering to the floor around her. Cassidy never saw it happen, distracted as she was by other things in that particular moment.


    Namely, Juice. The big man had been taking all that in over the past few seconds (had all of this really only taken a few seconds?) and finally acted, sending a blast of electricity ahead of Cassidy that clearly wasn¡¯t meant to actually hit her. Instead, it was intended to make her recoil and dodge backward, right into the space Juice was lunging toward so he could grab hold of her.


    Sterling would have intervened again, but Cassidy--his daughter, his little girl, was too smart for that trick. She did dodge backward away from the incoming electricity, but she flipped up and back, out of Juice¡¯s reach (probably with help from blue paint to get higher) before coming down on his back. Wait, no, she didn¡¯t simply land on his back. She actually used red-blue paint on her own body to yank herself straight down into him. Along with, Sterling was pretty sure, green for a speed boost so she landed on him with even more force. It was enough to make the man fall to one knee with a grunt. Which was made worse for him by the fact that just before he landed, Cassidy painted the floor right in front of him with a shot of black from one hand and pink from the other. The two mixed, turning that part of the floor liquid. Juice¡¯s hands went through it when he tried to catch himself on them, then his arms followed. His face smacked into a part of the cement floor that was still solid, and before he could pick himself up, Cassidy obviously cancelled the paint effect. Suddenly, the man was lying on his stomach with his arms buried in solid concrete. He was strong enough to break free, eventually, but it would take a minute. A minute where he was out of action and unable to shoot electricity anywhere. And in a situation like this, the entire fight could be over by then.


    It would¡¯ve already been over if Sterling and the others stepped in, but they were still standing there, watching all this happen. Aside from that one bit of intervention to put Banneret down, Sterling just¡­ stared. As did everyone else in their group.


    Well, almost everyone. Several of the Trendies¡¯ Prev members almost intervened now and then through all that, but every time one of them moved like they were going to jump in or try to attack Cassidy, they would collapse. Z¡¯s work, obviously. She was very good at her job.


    As was Cassidy herself. She remembered San Francisco, hitting the boy and the ceiling with another shot of red just before he would have started to fall. So instead of falling, he was simply yanked around and left staring downward rather than up. She did that. She shot that paint. She was the one jumping around like this, doing all this. Cassidy. Sterling¡¯s daughter. His little girl. She was--this was¡­ all of this, what she was doing, it was all¡­ she was actually¡­ the whole time, she had always been¡­Oh.


    Devil¡¯s Due recovered from the black paint at that moment. But just as he started to say something again, Cassidy hit him with another shot to silence the man once, much to his obvious frustration.


    And speaking of frustration, both halves of Janus were bellowing with plenty of that as they heaved themself off the floor. Apparently their anger had finally overcome their surprise. One of their arms enlarged and extended out all the way across the room, the hand growing large enough to completely dwarf Cassidy so they could slam her into the wall like swatting a fly. Except right before the giant hand struck her, Cassidy¡¯s entire body turned a mix of blue-orange. The hand struck her, knocking the girl into the wall. But she wasn¡¯t that hurt by it. Oh she did yelp, and that in and of itself made Sterling want to turn Janus inside out. But the men themselves were the one who took the brunt of what they had tried to dish out. Apparently that combination of paint reflected damage, because they reacted as though they had been struck by their own blow, staggering backward and stumbling.


    That stumbling would prove their undoing, because Cassidy had already dropped to the ground, sending a wide spray of blue paint from one hand and red paint from the other. Those two mixed together as they hit the floor around not just Janus, but an assortment of their Prev troops as well. The Prevs were trying to rush toward Cassidy, even as Janus stumbled backward away from her. Regardless of which way they were moving, the blue-red paint mix made the floor slippery enough that all of them went down, careening across the warehouse in every direction.


    Unfortunately for Cassidy herself, that was apparently the end of her paint reserves. Even as she landed, the girl started to point her hand toward the next threat, only to freeze as nothing came out. Sterling could see the sudden uncertainty and fear cross his daughter¡¯s face as she reevaluated, briefly looking for a place to dive for cover.


    That was enough. Shocked as he was by all this, Sterling wasn¡¯t going to just stand there anymore. And neither were his wife or any of the others. Elena released the invisibility (it wasn¡¯t something she could hold for long when people were moving), and suddenly what little was left of the Trendscendants¡¯ forces weren¡¯t just facing one little girl with paint powers anymore. They were facing the Ministry, and they didn¡¯t last long against that. Even San was rescued, as Sterling sent a silver disc up to catch the boy when the paint wore off and brought him back


    Soon, they were all disarmed, contained, and secured properly. The only reason they weren¡¯t executed on the spot was because Sterling wasn¡¯t going to do that right in front of his daughter and boy.


    Of course, that made it Cassidy¡¯s turn to stand there, frozen in place as she gaped at them dealing with all that. Most of them were dealing with it, anyway. Elena ignored everything and everyone else, going straight to their daughter to pull her into an embrace.


    Sterling was there too. Leaving the others to handle things, he knelt in front of Cassidy, hugging her right alongside his wife. All three of them were there, joined shortly by Simon as well. Cassidy seemed fearful at first, but couldn¡¯t help herself. When she was embraced by her parents, she leaned into it with a quiet, but audible, ¡°Mom, Dad. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry, Mom. I--Dad, please¡­¡±


    Then the embrace ended, leaving Cassidy¡­ Paintball, she was Paintball. She had always been Paintball. She stood there, panting, trembling, staring at Sterling, Elena, and Simon. Others carried on in the background. They were there. They had all seen Cassidy use her powers. They all knew who she was. Because she was¡­ she was Paintball. Oh God, she was really Paintball. He was her. She was him. She was¡­ she was¡­


    ¡°Holy shit.¡± It was San Francisco, his voice cutting through the confused, shocked silence that had settled in the air between all of them. His head snapped back and forth, staring at Cassidy, then Sterling in his Silversmith armor as though registering that she had called him ¡®Dad¡¯, then back again before repeating, ¡°Holy shit. I¡­ umm¡­ oh.


    ¡°You guys are totally about to Men In Black memory flasher thingie me aren¡¯t you?¡±

 Wild 33-06 (Interlude Arc)

    As they slipped away through the woods and left Irelyn and Paige behind, Haley gave a quick glance toward the girl she was bringing along with her. The fact that she looked like that Evans kid was just wild. It kept making the slightly more criminal-leaning side of her mind go off on possibilities. Yes, yes, they were all possibilities she would never seriously pursue. Both because of the astronomically low likelihood that they¡¯d actually work out in the long run, and because Irelyn would be upset if she talked Sierra into trying to rob the Evans by sneaking Sierra into the house as their daughter. Something something ethics.


    Honestly, Haley wasn¡¯t going to lose too much sleep thinking about the ethics of stealing from billionaires. But she would lose sleep thinking about Irelyn being angry with her after they had just managed to repair their relationship, at least somewhat. Besides, she liked this kid and didn¡¯t really want to be the one to get her in trouble with people like the Evans. Especially after hearing about this whole Ministry thing. It didn¡¯t actually surprise her, to be honest. Oh, she might not have called the Evans being in charge of it, but the rest fit just fine after everything she¡¯d seen.


    ¡°Okay, whatever happens, listen to what I tell you.¡± While saying that, she pointed one finger that way. ¡°Believe me, I know how tempting it can be to run off and deal with something yourself. It¡¯s more efficient when it works, you don¡¯t have to depend on someone you basically barely met, all the guys you¡¯ve been dealing with so far are total chumps who deserve to have one little girl stunt all over them so they understand what unbelievable losers they are. And--¡± She coughed, face twisting. ¡°Oh wait, I think I was supposed to be telling you why you shouldn¡¯t go off on your own.¡±


    A snort escaped the other girl, before Sierra waved her off. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna ditch you, chill. Even I know I can¡¯t take on an entire army of those guys all by myself. Especially if that one in the power armor shows up, or anyone like him. We came up with a plan and I¡¯m gonna follow it.¡± Her gaze shifted to look back over her shoulder in the direction they¡¯d just come from when leaving the other two behind. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna leave Paige and Irelyn flapping in the breeze just to show off.¡±


    By that point, the two of them had gotten about as close to the lake as they dared, after moving down the side of the hill. The trees and bushes were still obscuring their figures, but if they took even one more step forward, they would be in plain sight. Staying low, the pair began to move further around to put themselves as close as possible to the island they needed to get to without stepping into the open. With every step, they kept a close eye on the roaming boats and drones to check for absolutely any reaction. Haley used her binoculars echo to scan their faces often. None of them were reacting as though they had any idea there were people nearby. Actually, from what she was able to make out, the mercenaries seemed very focused on scanning the water below them with machines and were largely ignoring the surrounding land. They were trying to look for anything hidden down there. All while the actual entrance they wanted was right on that small island they kept getting closer to.


    Seeing how close they were getting made Haley¡¯s stomach clench. This wasn¡¯t good. Any minute now, they were going to turn those scanners toward the right spot and find it immediately.


    But no matter how much seeing that made her want to rush out there to deal with those guys before they could find that all-important entrance, it had to wait. She had to wait. She had to trust Irelyn to get that distraction going before it was too late. Yes, Irelyn knew what she was doing. She knew how important this was. Well, not how personally important it was. She didn¡¯t know how much these people meant to Haley. It wasn¡¯t really something the Sell-Touched woman talked about. But Irelyn knew she had to be quick. She and Paige would get that distraction going in time. Haley had to believe that. She had to force herself to take a breath and not run out there.


    Instead, she crouched down between two overturned trees, next to a large boulder covered in moss and weeds, and stared that way. Any minute now, word would come from Irelyn and Paige, and after that, the distraction would start. No matter how good of a distraction it was, they would still only have a brief opening to get out there without being seen. They had to be ready to move.


    ¡°You really care about these people, don¡¯t you?¡± Sierra noted in a hushed whisper from her spot nearby. She was squinting that way, clearly noticing the expression on Haley¡¯s face despite any attempt the woman might¡¯ve made to remain stoic. ¡°How¡¯d you meet them? I mean, we¡¯ve got a couple minutes before those two get this going, so what happened?¡±


    ¡°A couple minutes, huh?¡± Haley shook her head at that, telling herself to keep her anxiety under control. Maybe talking about it really would help her pass the time without losing her mind. Or maybe it would make her even more impatient. It was hard to say. But now that Sierra had asked, she might as well get into it a bit. Maybe then she¡¯d have an easier time getting into the details with Irelyn later, if she talked it through with this kid she barely knew first. Worth a shot.


    So, as they knelt there and watched the mercs out on the water as well as the small drones hovering right over it, Haley quietly told this Biolem girl about how she had met the Adherents. Which meant actually admitting just how badly her attempt to live out on her own had gone.


    ¡°Pretty bad out there on your own when you¡¯re sixteen and don¡¯t have anyone to trust, huh?¡± Sierra guessed as soon as the woman started to get into it and admitted it had been so soon in her ¡®freedom¡¯ that things had begun to go sideways. ¡°I uh, I might¡¯ve thought about it myself. You know, before deciding I actually liked Paige and the rest of those guys enough to stick around for the long term and try to make it work. I was going to go live my own life far away from all of this.¡±


    ¡°The first few days weren¡¯t bad,¡± Haley noted, her mind going back to that time. ¡°I stowed away in the back of a couple trucks, then hitchhiked even further until I made it up here. I figured the last place those people would look for me is right inside Irelyn¡¯s family¡¯s cabin out in the middle of nowhere. I could stay out of sight, lay low for a few weeks, change my appearance, and go from there. I had plenty of money with me, supplies, everything. It should¡¯ve been so easy to lay low.¡±


    A sigh escaped her. ¡°And it was, at first. Those first days, hanging out in that cabin all by myself were pretty great. Even if I--¡± She stopped herself from talking about the thick knot of guilt she¡¯d felt any time she thought about the look on Irelyn¡¯s face when her friend had learned that she was leaving, that she had switched sides and wasn¡¯t going to be a hero alongside her anymore. No, she wasn¡¯t going to get into how often she¡¯d sat with one of the pictures of Irelyn that had been hanging up in the cabin settled into her lap, practicing her apologies. Haley might¡¯ve decided to tell this girl some of how that had gone, but she sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to get into those sorts of emotional details. That would be just between her and the dirt she was eventually buried in.


    Instead, she went on with the rest of the story. ¡°I was--well to be honest, I was taken by surprise when this guy showed up at the cabin after those first few days. I was asleep upstairs when he came in. I just heard the door open and this annoying chirpy whistling. He wasn¡¯t there looking for me or anything. He wasn¡¯t really looking for anyone. As far as I could tell, he was just doing some sort of a routine check to make sure everything was cool in there. Sounds like he did it every month or so, and the Banners paid him some piddly bonus or something just for making sure the cabin hadn¡¯t burned down or been infested with rodents while they were gone. Someone else came up to clean every month too, another thing I found out later. It was a real pain in the ass.¡±


    Before she could continue, Sierra cocked her head to the side and spoke up. ¡°Right, they¡¯re about halfway there. Paige says they¡¯ll need time to start drawing attention, and that we should--ahem, not get impatient and do something stupid just because it¡¯s taking a minute.¡±


    ¡°If they get to the island before those two are ready, I¡¯m going in anyway,¡± Haley informed her flatly. ¡°You can stay here. But I¡¯m not abandoning those people just because it¡¯s dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± Sierra shrugged. ¡°You only live once, right? But hey, you were talking about how you met them. Which apparently came after the housesitter showed up and chased you out of the cabin.¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Haley made a huffing sound at that. ¡°He never even knew I was there. I wasn¡¯t that much of an amateur. But yeah, I did have to get out of there pretty quick. I was afraid if he reported anything about my appearance, Irelyn¡¯s dad would figure it out and I¡¯d have a whole army on my tail trying to drag me back to Detroit. So I got out of there without him seeing me. But I uhh¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°I left my stuff behind. Including the bag of money that was supposed to be my nest egg, and other shit I had in it. Clothes, extra phones, just all my supplies. I think that neighbor took it. Dunno what he thought of the other stuff, but he kept the money and, as far as I know, never said anything to the Banners about any of it. Maybe he assumed it was some sort of emergency ¡®go bag¡¯ or something that they left out, I dunno. But he kept it, like it was fair payment for watching the cabin or something. Wherever his fucking mind was, he took my money and disappeared. I couldn¡¯t exactly go into town and start asking everyone I saw where this guy lived, you know?¡±


    ¡°Must¡¯ve set you back a bit,¡± Sierra muttered under her breath. ¡°That would¡¯ve pissed me off.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it.¡± Haley shook her head at the memory, cursing softly before continuing. ¡°But I couldn¡¯t think about that at the time. I had to leave the cabin and get the hell out of there pretty damn quick. Remember, right then, I didn¡¯t exactly know why the guy was there. I figured out most of this later. At the time, I was kind of panicked about why he just showed up like that. I ran into the woods and¡­¡± She hesitated, the admission refusing to make it all the way past her lips.


    ¡°Got a bit lost?¡± Sierra guessed with a visible wince while both of them watched one of the boats that had come close enough to the shore to make out the annoyed faces of the men aboard who were still intently scanning every inch of the water. They definitely needed Paige and Irelyn to hurry up with that distraction. Getting out to that island without it was going to be impossible.


    Haley didn¡¯t respond until the boat had moved on. Yes, they were still pretty far away, too far for anyone normal to hear even a normal tone of voice, let alone a whisper, but still. It was better to be safe than sorry. Finally, she continued. ¡°Yeah, you could say I got lost. Really fucking lost. I was just a city girl, powers or no powers, and I ran out of that cabin without taking a phone, a jacket, anything. I didn¡¯t know how to find my way out of that damn forest. Every tree looked the same. I was completely turned around. Then it started raining and--fuck, it was bad. It got dark and wet and pretty goddamn scary, to be totally honest. There I was, so fucking confident, so arrogant when I left Detroit, and within a week and a half, I was lost out there in the trees in the middle of the night, with no idea how to get back to real civilization. I was soaked, scared, hungry, all of it. That was a bad time.¡±


    Yeah, it was definitely easier to admit this to Sierra than it would¡¯ve been to tell Irelyn the entire truth. This was decent practice for that, because she was pretty sure once this whole thing was over, her old friend was going to insist on being told this story. She¡¯d want to know how Haley met these people, and why they were important to her. Important enough to get this emotional about the whole situation.


    Swallowing at the thought, she pushed on. ¡°I was alone, cold, wet, and sort of curled up in the crook of this old dead tree. It was still raining, and I was trying to use the cover of the tree to build a little fire with my lighter echo, but--well, let¡¯s just say it wasn¡¯t exactly easy to get rain-soaked wood to light properly. Nothing was working, and I was getting more and more frustrated. That¡¯s when those guys showed up. It was a group from the Adherents. They¡¯d just been out for a hike when they were caught in the rain and were trying to get back to this lake right here. The tree I was cowering in was¡­. um, maybe a quarter mile that way. I had no idea the lake even existed. Let alone that there was a portal to a nice, perfectly warm Tech-Touched enclave right there.¡±


    Chuckling darkly at the thought, she pushed on. ¡°Anyway, the guy in the lead basically tripped right over me before either of us had any idea the other was there. It freaked me right the hell out and I tried to run, but I uh, yeah, I slipped on a wet log and went down hard. Managed to twist my ankle in the process. Yeah, some big-shot Sell-Touched I was, right? It was not my finest hour.¡±


    She let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. ¡°I was seriously about to completely lose it and throw it down with all of them. I wasn''t exactly in the best mindset to stay calm. For all I knew, these people had been sent by the Banners to track me down. I was going for a fight when I realized that like half of them were kids younger than me. And they were freaking out just as much as I was. It was dark, there was rain everywhere, the wind kept blowing the water in our faces, it was a whole thing. And seriously, it wasn''t like they had expected to come across some soaking wet, terrified, violent Touched girl in the middle of nowhere. They thought I was some sort of monster.¡±


    She was interrupted briefly by the other two checking in to let them know they had arrived at the old ghost town village and would be starting the distraction any moment. Which would hopefully mean that those guys out on the lake were about to get enough panicked calls to go running off.


    In the meantime, Haley finished her story succinctly. ¡°So I stopped trying to kick their asses and let them talk. They figured out I was lost and that I wasn''t supposed to be out there. And that I was a Touched. I kind of gave that away in that first little confrontation. But they said I could come with them. We hiked to the lake, crossed in a little boat, and went through the portal. They showed me how to access it myself so I could come and go whenever I wanted. I even tested it more than a few times in those first couple days to make sure they wouldn''t try to lock me in. But mostly I just stayed there for weeks, in their compound. They figured out pretty quickly who I was, that I was a runaway Minority member from Detroit. Still, they didn¡¯t try to make me go back. They helped me get back on my feet, gave me a place to stay until I was ready to be on my own for real. And they let me come back to hang around any time I wanted to. I uh--I haven¡¯t done that in awhile now, but I did in those first couple years. They really bailed me out when I needed someone.¡± Her face darkened a bit. ¡°And I¡¯m sure not gonna let these fucks get to them now.¡±


    Sierra was obviously about to say something to that, but before she could, Haley gave her a nudge and pointed. ¡°Look, right out on that second boat.¡± Sure enough, they could see several men standing up and staring off in the direction that Paige and Irelyn had gone, while one of them was talking rather agitatedly on a radio. There was clearly an argument going on. But apparently the guy on the boat lost it, because he slammed the radio down and began barking orders to the others. Immediately, that boat and almost all of the rest, save one, went right for shore. Meanwhile, the drones flew off like hornets shooting out of a nest to chase an aggressor. The guys on the boats jumped out, landing on shore before sprinting toward an assortment of motorcycles and ATVs that were sitting around. Soon, the engines were roaring and they were on their way, leaving only that single boat still on the lake to continue scanning the water.


    ¡°Well,¡± Sierra noted dryly while watching them leave, ¡°I guess the distraction worked. Mostly.¡±


    Haley was nodding while starting to move to the right through the bushes, further out of the line of sight of the people on the last remaining boat. ¡°Yeah, now let¡¯s take advantage of it while we can. Go on my mark. Just don¡¯t let them see us, or the whole thing is gonna be for nothing. Can you hold your breath for a couple minutes so we can stay under the water the whole way out there?¡±


    The question made Sierra snort, even as she quickly followed. ¡°Oh yeah, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m good on that front. Biolems need to breathe somewhat, but we can go for a good long time without.¡±


    They both watched the other boat intently. There were five people on it, most of them distracted by staring off the way their companions had gone. But not all of them. One last guy was glancing around, almost like he knew there must be something else going on. Finally, one of the others said something to him, and he turned to respond. That was the moment, their opening. Immediately, Haley hissed, ¡°Go.¡± Then they were off, sprinting silently across the short distance to the water while staying as low as possible. They reached it a moment later, the small, gentle waves lapping against their feet before they sprang forward and down, disappearing under the water within a couple strokes before the man could look back that way.


    The water was shockingly cold, but neither of them paid attention to that. They swam out, keeping far enough under the surface to not let their motion disturb the surface and draw attention. Bit by bit, the two of them got closer to the island in question. It wasn¡¯t very big, making the troops¡¯ lack of attention to it more understandable. The entire ¡®island¡¯ was barely large enough for two grown men to lay across it from one end to the other. About twelve feet or so in each direction. Barely more than a large rock covered in grass and weeds, really. And other rocks.


    Raising her head just enough to peek out of the water and across the island to the boat, Haley made sure no one was looking their way. Then she reached across to a small, innocuous-looking patch of dirt and brushed it off to reveal what appeared to be a thumbprint pad. Pressing her finger against it, she waited as it scanned much more than her print. A tingle ran through her entire body. Finally, part of the ground slid aside with a near-silent whoosh, revealing a ramp leading underground.


    ¡°Okay, kid,¡± she whispered, giving Sierra a tug up and out of the water, ¡°let¡¯s get in there.¡±


    The two of them quickly moved to the ramp and down out of sight. Over their heads, the ground closed up, completely covering the entrance and leaving it looking like an ordinary, tiny island in the middle of the lake once more. They had made it to the bunker where the portal was. But the lake was only so big, and even with only one boat searching, it wouldn¡¯t take long before they located the entrance themselves.


    Then things would become much more complicated.

 Wild 33-07 (Interlude Arc)

    As Paige left Haley and Sierra behind, racing through the woods on a borrowed motorcycle right behind the one Irelyn was riding, she tried to tell herself that this was the right move. They¡¯d needed to split up, it was the best chance they had. She and Irelyn could cause a distraction while the other two got inside that place to warn the Adherents about what was going on before it was too late. Yet the further she got from what was essentially her twin sister, the more nervous she was about the whole situation. With everything that was going on, it just--it made her anxious to be separated from Sierra like this. Which was a very strange thought to have after the way their relationship had started. So much time locked in incredibly intense combat inside her own system. Sierra had been created to kill her, to take over her body and then kill her friends. Cassidy. She had been created to kill Cassidy. That was the thought, the fear, that had made Paige resist her for so long.


    But now look at them. They were sisters, in every real way. And leaving her behind to go into that place, to possibly face that guy in the power armor and his entire army, it just--it made Paige feel funny. And not in a haha sort of way. In most cases, she was barely aware of the orb that made up who and what she really was, inside the Biolem body. It wasn¡¯t too unlike the way most regular humans didn¡¯t think too much about how much of who they were was inside their brain, she assumed. Yet now, in this moment, she really felt like a small metal orb controlling this body. Mostly because it--she kept feeling like the orb part of her was about to rip its way out of that body and go flying back to where Sierra was. She really did not want to be separated from her.


    But no, she had to put that out of her mind and focus on what was actually happening. The best chance Sierra had when it came to safely getting into that place was if Paige and Irelyn caused enough of a distraction to pull as many of those people away as possible. So that was what she would put her efforts toward. They had to create a big enough ruckus that whoever was in charge here, probably that guy in the armor from the sound of things, would be convinced they knew where that entrance was and send as many of his mercenaries after them as possible.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s hard!¡± That was Irelyn, apparently reading Paige¡¯s mind without even looking over her shoulder at her. They didn¡¯t actually need to shout that much, given how quiet the hybrid motorcycle engines were. ¡°But this really is the best way. Believe me, I¡¯m not happy about leaving them behind either! We just have to do everything we can to get as many of those guys away from that lake as possible. With any luck, once the Adherents are warned, they¡¯ll be able to pull in help and shut this whole thing down before things get even worse. I mean, whoever these people are, they can¡¯t be blocking communication from that side. That island complex where the Adherents live, wherever it is, must have its own methods of calling out to the mainland. As soon as they¡¯re warned, they¡¯ll call in reinforcements and tell them to come out here to put a stop to this.¡± She paused briefly as their bikes jumped over a small ridge between a couple trees, sending a spray of dirt and pebbles back behind them. ¡°This whole thing could all be over within a few minutes after Haley and Sierra make it into that place!¡±


    ¡°Are you convincing me, or yourself!?¡± Paige called back, even as the bikes dropped into a narrow ditch-like crevice between a thick stand of trees. Going by the quick description Haley had given, they were just a little over halfway to the small ghost town village she had mentioned. She sent a quick message through her connection with Sierra to let the other girl and her own companion know where they were, and that everything was totally quiet on their end so far. Thankfully, Sierra was smart enough to know not to drag things out or tease her in this sort of situation, so she simply confirmed that they were still hidden and hadn¡¯t seen any sign that the people there knew about them. Paige reminded her that it would take a little time for Irelyn and her to actually draw enough attention to pull those mercs off the lake, and that she should not, under any circumstances, get impatient and start going in anyway just because it didn¡¯t happen immediately. She may have underlined and bolded some of those words in their chat system.


    As for Irelyn, the woman still hadn¡¯t responded to Paige¡¯s question about who she was actually trying to convince that this could be over soon by the time they had ridden all the way through that ditch. They made it back up onto level ground and looked around for a moment before getting their bearings and heading toward a particularly large tree that stuck out above the others around it, far in the distance. Apparently that wasn¡¯t actually a tree, but a disguised radio tower. It wasn¡¯t actually a functional tower, having been stripped for parts quite a long time ago. Not that it would have worked past the blocking anyway. But it was supposed to be the best landmark to reach the unused cabin village place they were looking for. And, once the mercenaries¡¯ attention was drawn that way so they gave a closer look at that area, they would register the radio tower¡¯s presence. Which would, with any luck, help convince them that this really was the area they were looking for. That was the idea, anyway. And another reason this was the best place to draw them toward.


    Finally, once they were headed the right way, Irelyn called back, ¡°Okay, maybe I¡¯m trying to convince both of us! But that doesn¡¯t change anything, this is still the best plan we¡¯ve got!¡± Her hand left the handlebar to point at the girl. ¡°And put the helmet on! I know, I know, badass Biolem with the real important part not even in the head and all, but I¡¯d rather these guys didn¡¯t get a good look at your face. Besides, it¡¯s actually a pretty good head, and it¡¯d probably be a bad idea to crack it open like an egg! Especially if we can¡¯t let a doctor take too close of a look at you!¡±


    Paige gave a grunt of agreement as the two of them pulled alongside one another, squinting together toward the disguised antennae even as she obligingly picked up the attached helmet with its reflective visor and put it on. Then she pointed. ¡°I think the dirt road Haley was talking about is right over there, see that line between those trees? That looks like the right area to me.¡±


    Revving her bike¡¯s engine a bit, Irelyn nodded. ¡°I think so. I¡¯d have to take out the binoculars to make sure, but I¡¯ll take your word for it. You¡¯ve got some pretty good vision.¡± Her gaze shifted that way before she added, ¡°I guess that¡¯d be the Biolem thing. Pittman wanted you to be perfect.¡±


    ¡°Somewhat close to it, anyway,¡± Paige muttered. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t really do that much good for his plan to sell people on the idea of uploading their minds into Biolem bodies if they still needed to get glasses.¡± Her voice darkened somewhat. ¡°I was supposed to be the floor model for his project to change the world and become the unchallenged god of a whole new civilization of nothing but Biolems of all shapes and sizes. You know, once he got over the fact that his first attempt to turn his real daughter immortal didn¡¯t work out the way it was meant to and started thinking bigger.¡±


    Irelyn winced, glancing that way as their bikes drew alongside one another again. ¡°Roxanne Pittman, she was hurt in an Abyssal attack, you said? But she didn¡¯t die. Not right then anyway.¡±


    Letting out a heavy sigh, Paige grimaced before answering. ¡°Yeah, but she would have. She was poisoned by Beithir. It was a small enough dose that she lasted for longer than most, but still. No one survives that sort of direct injection from one of Beithir¡¯s spines forever. She was on a ticking clock from the moment she was hit. Benjamin knew that, and he was¡­ well, let¡¯s just say he was pretty desperate to find a way to save her. He used his new power to come up with the Biolem plan. Her body couldn¡¯t be fixed, not by any healers in the world. But if he could just build her a new body and make a perfect upload of her mind, it was--it was something. He thought it was the best chance she had. He already lost his wife, her mother, but he could save Roxanne.¡±


    By that point, the two of them had reached the road in question. It was only a short ride from there into the empty village. But they didn¡¯t need to go straight to the village yet. What they needed was to draw some of the searchers that way. So, Paige and Irelyn flipped the bikes around to head in the opposite direction down that dirt road. It was supposed to lead to the main, paved highway just a bit outside of the town proper, and there they could definitely get attention.


    On the way, Irelyn asked, ¡°His plan to upload his daughter¡¯s personality to save her that way, it didn¡¯t go the way he wanted it to, did it? She didn¡¯t¡­ uh, survive the process.¡± Even as she said that, the woman was visibly grimacing, making it clear she wasn¡¯t sure she should have been that direct about it. ¡°I mean, you¡¯re here, but he thinks--thought that you weren¡¯t enough of her.¡±


    Paige made a soft, barely audible snorting sound before replying as she squeezed the motorcycle handlebars even more tightly. ¡°That''s the thing. She was already doomed to die, but when he put her through all the stress of copying her brain, it accelerated the process. She would have lived for at least another couple of months, until he put her through all that. His work did enough damage that she didn''t make it all the way through the process. He was still learning as he went. The whole thing should''ve taken about a week, but she only made it through four and a half days. He did his best to keep her alive, but it didn''t work. He had just a little under three quarters of her personality and all that uploaded when she was too far gone to get anything else. He did his best to fill in the blanks with bits from other children around her age. And no, I don''t know how he got them. Nor do I want to. I know there were multiple samples so that he wouldn''t do too much damage to any more children, but still. He used those bits to make a full brain pattern, but he never thought she was his real daughter. He just couldn¡¯t let the work he did, the work that ended up killing her faster than she was already dying, end up just being for nothing.¡±


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    ¡°So he took what was supposed to be his grand plan to save his daughter¡¯s life and slid it right into making all of humanity immortal with himself at the very top of the heap,¡± Irelyn finished for her. ¡°Only the problem was, he couldn¡¯t look at you, the pinnacle of his project, without constantly remembering his dead daughter, and the fact that he failed to save her. Not only failed to save her, accelerated her death. That¡¯s why he treated you the way he did. He couldn¡¯t get over his failure.¡± She went silent for a moment, staring ahead as they reached the paved road before muttering a vicious curse. ¡°Fucking bastard piece of shit. He still had you. Yes, you weren¡¯t a perfect copy of his daughter¡¯s mind, but you were still his daughter. Just¡­ a different one.¡±


    They had pulled onto that paved road and slowed down, but Paige didn''t respond at first. Her eyes narrowed as she looked ahead at a few indistinct forms in the distance that seemed to be some sort of roadblock. ¡°Well,¡± she finally pointed out, ¡°he''s dead now. So there''s no use in worrying about it. It''s not like he can come back and change what he did. So let''s just focus on the problem in front of us that hasn¡¯t already been killed, dissected, cremated, and thrown out.¡±


    It was very clear that Irelyn wanted to talk about that some more, but she knew better than to push. Especially since they were rapidly approaching the roadblock ahead. ¡°Well,¡± the woman announced instead, ¡°here goes nothing. Let¡¯s put those drama classes to work, shall we?¡±


    Both of them fell silent for a few seconds as the roadblock quickly drew closer. They could see three vans parked across both lanes, with a handful of men milling around, watching them. It was clear that they were expecting to see a couple of their own troops coming to check in, and weren''t too concerned. But the moment they actually saw Irelyn in her Flea costume, as well as the fact that the girl next to her very clearly wasn¡¯t one of them despite wearing one of their helmets, the shout went up. Then the guns came out. Paige brought her bike to a skidding halt, snapping a panicked, ¡°We¡¯ve gotta tell Saunders it¡¯s blocked that way too!¡± With a squeal of burning rubber, she peeled out once more, back the way they¡¯d come even as the shooting started. But that shooting stopped almost as quickly, as the words she¡¯d said actually penetrated those skulls. With Irelyn right behind her, the two bikes went screaming toward the dirt road, while the vans behind them started up. The mercs had taken the bait and were actually chasing them. Which meant they would be calling it in, letting their boss know that they were following two of their quarry right back toward Gilbert Saunders, otherwise known as the Rocket Man, the one behind Galileo¡¯s Adherents. If anything was going to get their attention, it was dropping his name.


    There was another reason for why they had gone very close to the ghost town before heading out to the main highway. Not just because it was the best way to get to the dirt road that led there, but also because anyone who chased or searched for them would see their bike tracks leading down that dirt road and would be more likely to believe they had really come from that way. At least enough to maintain the illusion for a bit and convince them that the whole thing was real, anyway. All they needed was for the guys on the lake to be pulled away long enough for the other two to slip inside. Then, maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be finished without getting worse. True, Paige wasn¡¯t going to bet on that, but she could hold out some faint hope.


    By the time they were halfway back up the dirt road, the sound of approaching drones filled the air. As did a very noisy assortment of engines from both behind them and the side, coming from the direction of the lake. With any luck, that meant those guys had been alerted and were on their way. So step one of the plan was a success, they had their attention. Steps two and three revolved around keeping it long enough to draw them all the way to the ghost village so they¡¯d waste all their time searching it, and then getting away from that search without being caught.


    At least they definitely had plenty of the mercs¡¯ interest. Already, there were two jeeps, a lone motorcycle, and an ATV coming from behind them where the roadblock had been, and even more vehicles, mostly a mix of ATVs and motorcycles, coming from the left, where the lake had been. It had to be those guys. Not only was it the closest area where that many of the troops had been, but Sierra had finally sent a quick confirmation that almost all the mercs had cleared out aside from one boat. They could get past one boat, hopefully. This plan was actually working.


    Even better, though they had the expected pursuers from behind and to the left, there was no sign of anyone ahead or to the right, leaving their way wide open. At least for the time being.


    Just to make sure that their pursuers wouldn¡¯t lose interest, Paige drew a small pistol from its holster attached to the side of her borrowed bike. As they hit a slight incline that sent the bikes several feet into the air thanks to their speed, she turned a bit, took quick aim, and fired several quick shots toward the nearest drone. The thing was small and fast enough, barely the size of one of Cassidy¡¯s skateboards, that even with her Biolem-enhanced aim, she missed with the first couple. But the last one nailed it right in the camera and sent the thing careening through the sky. Three shots to hit one fast-moving drone. She almost wished Cassidy was here for this. Their aim would have been perfect from the first shot. Not to mention, well--it was Cassidy, there were very few people Paige would rather have watching her back right now. But hey, at least one of the other people at the top of that particular list was on the other motorcycle right beside her.


    Speaking of whom, Irelyn shouted something sidelong toward her about not stopping. Which confused Paige briefly, until she saw the other woman gather herself before springing backwards off the damn motorcycle. She jumped right from her seat, back through the air, flipping over in the process before landing on the hood of one of those jeeps that had been pursuing them. As Paige glanced over her shoulder, she had just enough time to see Irelyn drive her sword through the windshield, cutting through something that made the jeep go careening off to the side. Then she leapt forward once more, managing to jump far enough to not only catch up with Paige, but actually land back on the same motorcycle she had just jumped off of before it could finish falling over. It was that quick. She had leapt backwards, covered about fifty yards or so, landed on the jeep and cut into it, then jumped forward once more and landed right back on her bike before it could finish falling over. If they hadn¡¯t been in this specific, very intense situation without any time for being distracted, Paige definitely would have just sat there and stared at the woman.


    But no, there was no time for letting her processor gush over how absolutely amazing her older, adopted sister was. On the other hand, at least she could do that these days without worrying that the woman would reject her as soon as she knew the truth. Or that there was no reason for her to care in the first place. Irelyn did care. She accepted her. She knew the truth and wanted her around anyway. Not just her, but Sierra too. They were actually turning this into some sort of--


    The village. They had finally reached it. Just as Haley had described, the place was definitely falling apart. There were about six scattered buildings surrounding what looked like a central gathering place with a place for a bonfire and a few metal camp stoves. Five of the buildings were two story cabins, while the sixth was a larger place that looked like it was where the kitchen and supply room were.


    They were there, the pursuers would be close enough to not only see the cabins, but detect the radio tower and realize the place had higher technology than it should. That would keep them--


    Irelyn shouted some sort of warning, just before leaping off her own bike once more. That time, however, she threw herself into Paige, knocking her off as well before twisting around to land on her feet with the other girl in her arms. The momentum sent her skidding through the dirt, Paige clutched protectively against herself while the bikes--exploded!?


    The concussive wave and heat washed over Paige along with the shower of dirt and pebbles. Then the source of the explosion landed. The guy in the power armor. He had been flying over their heads, aiming rockets at them, apparently. He hit the ground amidst the rubble of their bikes, turning to face the two of them. ¡°Heh. Guess it¡¯s time for a conversation, isn¡¯t it?


    ¡°Well, after I kill one of you just so the other one¡¯s thoroughly encouraged to tell the truth.¡±

 Intermission Interlude - Arleigh (Part One)

    Wren¡¯s Nest. That was what the sign over the shop said. Reading it twice to make sure she had the right place, Arleigh Fosters took a breath. This was so dangerous. If anyone knew she was here, if people managed to recognize her¡­ but no, there was very little chance of that. She had come in disguise, just in case. A can of temporary hair dye left her as a brunette rather than a blonde, at least for the afternoon. Beyond that, she was also wearing rather different clothes than anyone who actually knew her would expect, in the form of baggy jeans with ugly patches all over them, a flannel shirt, and an ugly old gray jacket that she¡¯d picked up at a¡­ eugh, a thrift shop. To top off the ensemble, she had thick glasses with a pink plastic frame. The glasses were fake, the lenses clear without any prescription to them. But they absolutely helped disguise the girl¡¯s face.


    That was a thought that made her look both ways reflexively. Disguise or not, if someone saw her go into this place and realized who she was, it could be catastrophic. Everything would be ruined. Peering up and down the street, she watched for anyone who might be paying too much attention, anyone who might seem a little too interested in what she was doing. No one stood out. All she could see were people going about their business, heading for cars or into stores.


    She didn¡¯t trust that. Not for a second. In this city, you could never tell who might be up to something, or how dangerous they were. And you definitely couldn¡¯t be too careful when it came to--


    ¡°Do you need some help?¡± Those simple, unexpected words came from right in front of Arleigh, from the doorway of the shop itself. There was a young kid there, a small blonde child standing with the door held open as she looked up at her curiously. ¡°I mean, is somebody chasing you?¡±


    Doing her level best not to jump right out of her skin, Arleigh blinked at the kid and reflexively snapped, ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± Where the fuck had this freaky little ninja girl even come from? Why didn¡¯t Arleigh hear the door open? She wasn¡¯t that distracted, was she?


    Offering a bright smile, the ninja kid just replied, ¡°You seemed nervous. And you kept looking all over the place, like you were afraid someone was following you. Do you want us to call the cops? We have a phone.¡± She turned, looking back into the shop. ¡°We have lots of phones.¡±


    ¡°What? No, fuck no, don¡¯t call the cops.¡± Arleigh had to stop herself from cursing even more than she already was. She was pretty sure people didn¡¯t like it when you cursed at a kid. That would probably stand out. Wait, damn it, she was supposed to be some flannel-dressed loser nerd, not a badass girl who would curse out anyone she wanted. Fuck, Arleigh, get your head in the game. Be a lame nerd for just a few minutes and act all casual and shit. You can do that, right?


    Shaking off those thoughts, Arleigh forced a goofy, awkward giggle, making her voice squeak a bit as she stepped past the kid and into the shop. ¡°I mean, we don¡¯t need cops around here, right?¡± Something else occurred to her then, even as she was looking around the pawnshop. ¡°Wait, we? You said ¡®we¡¯ have lots of phones? Do your parents own this place or something?¡±


    ¡°They did,¡± came the easy response, as the kid let the door shut and walked back in. ¡°But they died. Now my uncle runs the store. I¡¯m Wren, what¡¯s your name? I mean, can I help you find something?¡± Her chirpy, cheerful tone was at odds with the blunt way that she simply announced her parents had died before immediately moving right on to play the helpful little shop employee.


    ¡°Jessica,¡± Arleigh lied. No way in hell was she going to give her real name around here. Not when she¡¯d gone to such lengths to make sure she wouldn¡¯t be recognized. No one was going to find out she had come here. And they sure as hell weren¡¯t going to find out why she was here.


    Okay, so the kid would have to know. And the guy behind the counter who was only half-paying attention while clearly engrossed with his magazine. It was time. All the effort Arleigh had put into hiding her identity, in making sure no one followed her, in lying to everyone about what she was doing and where she was going, it all came down to this. It was time to ask the question that would completely ruin her life if anyone heard it come out of her mouth.


    ¡°Do you have a Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress?¡± She managed to get those words out before she could talk herself into simply turning around and leaving, though it was a very close call.


    That Wren girl blinked at her a couple times as though doing her best to digest the rather confusing question. ¡°Um. As in the World War 2 Bomber Airplane thing? Do we have one of those? You mean like, in the garage or¡­?¡±


    Oh great, now Arleigh was blushing. Why was this so hard? ¡°No, the model kit, d--¡± Don¡¯t curse at the kid anymore, don¡¯t curse at the kid anymore. ¡°--dude. It''s a model from Franklin Mint, the 1/48th scale B17. It¡¯s worth like a thousand dollars. It''s got working propellers and landing gear, it''s so--¡± She had to stop herself from going on and on about the model, the urge to gush like an idiot almost overwhelming. ¡°Look, I just like models, okay? Somebody told me you had that one sitting around in a sealed box around here somewhere.¡±


    ¡°Oh--oh!¡± Wren brightened, her confusion vanishing. ¡°Yes, yeah, we have models, right, Uncle Fred? Do we have that one? I forget which ones we have, but if that¡¯s one of the expensive ones, we probably still have it. People haven¡¯t exactly bought a lot of those model airplanes lately.¡±


    Dropping his magazine on the glass counter, the man stood up and beckoned. ¡°Yeah, the better models are up on the higher shelves. Come on, let¡¯s see what there is. I think I remember seeing one of those bombers, and it was pretty expensive when I checked the almighty internet.¡±


    It took a minute to locate, but eventually it was there, in Arleigh¡¯s hands. She had the unopened, pristine model kit in her hands. Or rather, clutched to her chest. She didn¡¯t care about the price. Who would? It was a perfect Franklin Mint B17! Before the kid or the old guy could haggle about it, Arleigh was already shoving a thousand dollars in their hands. That was a fair amount of the petty cash she had squirreled away that her family didn¡¯t know about, but whatever, she¡¯d just rob a bank or something. All that mattered was that she finally had the model. God, she¡¯d been looking for one of these for so long. The ones that came up online always went too fast, or they were sketchy as shit. No way would she throw a thousand bucks away just to get a worthless empty box or whatever.


    But this one wasn¡¯t empty. This wasn¡¯t a scam. It was sealed, completely unopened, and she could even hear and feel things rattling around in there when she (rather gently) shook it just to assure herself of all that. This was the real deal. Finally, she would have a replacement for¡­


    Images flashed through her mind, even as she left the shop. Images of herself a few years back, when she was twelve. She¡¯d had this model, along with a dozen others, all in the shed out in the garden. She wasn¡¯t allowed to have the models inside where they could get in the way, so she built them in the shed and displayed them there, for herself. It was better there anyway. She could stay out of the house where all the shouting kept happening, and just build her models. She liked that. She liked following the instructions, and seeing the airplanes come together out of all the little pieces. It was soothing.


    Or it had been, until Micah showed up all pissed off because his girlfriend had dumped him. He heard Arleigh giggling in the shed while he was fuming over that and had proceeded to storm in and start throwing all her models in the trash can. Then he dumped a can of lighter fluid in there along with a lit book of matches, all while she was pleading with him to stop. But he didn''t stop. He grabbed her arm and forced the twelve-year-old girl to watch as her models were burned. While it was happening, he kept going on about how this was what happened when you cared about things. They just got taken away. He was really pissed about getting dumped.


    That had been a bad day. But it had also shaped the rest of her life, because while she was screaming at Micah for burning her models, leading to him twisting her hair to shove her face so close to the flames that it almost burned her, two of those orbs had shown up. One for each of them. One of the orbs had seemed to be staring into the fire in the trash can, until Micah touched it. The other had been floating a couple feet back, near where Arleigh had been unceremoniously shoved as soon as her brother saw the orb. It was right there, and she had hesitantly put a hand on it.


    That was how both of them got their powers. It happened on the same day, at practically the same moment. Micah had never really forgiven her for butting in on his big thing by Touching at essentially the same time that he had. He kept going on about not being able to have anything for himself, as if she had somehow forced the orb to appear in front of her. Really, if she had that sort of control, she definitely wouldn''t have let one of them appear anywhere near him.


    For the past few years, gradually and without letting anyone back home (especially Micah) know, she had been collecting replacements for all of those old models. She wasn''t keeping them in the shed anymore. Absolutely not. Instead she had a storage unit that she was renting under a false name. That was where she kept everything she didn''t want Micah to destroy.


    Now she had the real prize of her entire collection. She finally managed to find the bomber, and this time she was going to keep it safe. No one would know that she had it. Not her older brother, not anyone in her family. Well, Errol and Sequoia were both probably okay, but still. It was better to be safe than sorry. You really couldn''t trust anybody. Micah had succeeded at teaching her that, if nothing else. You couldn''t trust anybody, and you sure as hell couldn''t depend on anybody. You had to take care of yourself. And if there was something you liked, something that someone else might take away from you, you had to either defend or attack.


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    That was why she had attacked that Jae chick at the start of the school year, when Price (her stupid ex-boyfriend) had called the albino girl cute and exotic. Arleigh had liked Price, and he had, at least as far as she was concerned, expressed interest in another girl. That made Jae a threat, and meant Arleigh had to deal with that threat the only way she knew how, by attacking.


    Weird, why was she even thinking about that girl? Arleigh had to ask herself that while waiting for the city bus. Yes, she was taking public transportation. There was no way she was going to risk anyone seeing her car around here to make them start asking questions, and she wouldn''t call for an Uber either. Not when there was a possibility of someone back home checking her account history. Micah would absolutely do that just to find any weakness he could try to exploit.


    Besides, it turned out that riding the bus wasn''t such a bad thing after all. Really, she had expected it to be so much worse when she had started taking public transportation to hide her trips to that storage facility. But it was fun, especially since it meant she could just chill and listen to music in her earbuds. No pressure, no one messing with her or demanding anything, and no need to watch the road. She could simply close her eyes and lose herself to the beat for a little while.


    Or, at least, she normally could. But just as the girl was really getting into the latest single from Melancholy Canvas, the entire bus screeched to a rather violent halt with very little warning. That was just a blaring horn and then squealing brakes as Arleigh and several other passengers were thrown out of their seats. Just like that, she found herself squatting on the floor with her hand in some used gum. Okay, maybe there were problems with taking the bus.


    But that wasn''t the end of the problems, not by a long shot. Right when she was starting to pick herself up to bitch out the driver for being terrible at his job, something slammed into the side of the bus and knocked the whole thing over onto its side. Worse, the part that was hit was just a little bit down from where she was, meaning the bus fell onto its other side. Arleigh fell with a yelp, along with about fifteen other passengers, as the bus slammed onto its side and went skidding noisily along the pavement. The whole wall of the bus where it had been hit was dented inward.


    Okay, seriously, what the fuck was going on? Whatever gang was out there starting shit, she was going to¡­ oh right, she wasn''t going to do anything. She didn''t have her costume, because she wasn''t here as Clime. She wasn''t even here as Arleigh. She was supposed to be anonymous, and it had to stay that way unless she wanted her family to ask pointed questions.


    Right, so she just needed to get the hell out here and let whatever this was play out without her. It wouldn''t be too hard. The other passengers were already fleeing and seemed to be doing so safely enough. Whatever or whoever had hit the bus wasn''t paying attention to them.


    Once she had safely clambered out, following the stream of fleeing passengers, Arleigh proceeded to ignore them completely. They were rushing down the street, like idiots. Instead, she went right through the nearest doorway, into what turned out to be some sort of sportswear shop. The owner was saying something, but Arleigh just gestured over her shoulder and shouted, ¡°Touched fight, you wanna yell at someone for screwing up your business, try them! I¡¯m sure they¡¯re very sorry!¡±


    With that, she went right through the door marked for employees only, and started to continue on toward the rear exit to the alley beyond. Great, now she was going to have to find another way to get to her-- oh motherfucker! The fucking box, the model, it was still back in the bus, god damn it!


    Well, fuck that noise, she sure as hell wasn¡¯t leaving that thing behind. Not after spending all that money on it. Not to mention the amount of time it had taken her to find a pristine one after her stupid jackass brother burned the last one. Everything she had put into finding a new one and she loses it five minutes later thanks to whoever the fuck was fighting outside? No way.


    There, right at the door leading into that alley was a box of sporting goods, including ski masks and goggles. With everyone heading out for vacations to get away from Detroit now that the damn quarantine was over, many of them were going skiing. That would¡¯ve been harder to do in June before the resorts started using Touched-Tech snow machines, but now they could go all year.


    Either way, all that mattered was they were still selling ski shit, and had a whole box right there. So she grabbed a dark green one as well as a pair of neon blue goggles, pulled them on and adjusted the things so she could see. With that done, Arleigh went right back the way she¡¯d come. The disguise she¡¯d been wearing before was good enough to not be recognized in a casual environment, but she couldn¡¯t risk someone taking pictures of her if this turned into a fight. She was already going to have too fucking much to explain if her dad found out she had been around here. But whatever, she would just claim she was scouting out a place to hit or something. As long as she didn¡¯t get herself recognized and blow her secret identity with this, it would be fine. Just fine.


    The store manager was already on her way through that doorway to bitch at her for barging in and going through the employees area, only to step back with a yelp when she saw Arleigh there with the ski mask and goggles on. She started babbling about cash being in the register.


    Reflexively, the girl started to tell her to shut the fuck up. Then she caught herself. If she had to use her powers out there, it would be obvious that, whatever costume she was wearing, she was Clime. Her power was too distinctive. And if she didn¡¯t act like her Clime identity always did, it would¡­ ugh, that could be bad. This bitch could spoil that part of identity, could tell people she acted completely differently in her store. She couldn¡¯t risk that, especially when she was already risking enough just by doing this shit in the first place. If it wasn¡¯t for that damn model kit¡­ fuck.


    Okay, well, all she had to do was run out there, deal with anyone who was in her way, and grab that kit. Then she could be done with this and just fucking leave.


    Leaving the frightened store manager behind without chewing her out the way she wanted to, she ran right out to where the overturned bus was. Only then did she really notice just how big the dent in the side was. Whatever had hit that thing had really done a number on it, damn. She glanced down the street to look for any sign of the person responsible for that while starting to climb in. The box, she just needed the box.


    Then she saw them. Just down the street, the Minority were right there. It was all of them, including those new kids. The sight of the group sent a flash of annoyance through her. That had been her chance. She had tried to convince her dad that having eyes inside the Minority would be really useful, and right when they had been so limited on members would have been the best chance for Clime to have a change of heart and join up. She could have made it work. But no, now they suddenly had three new members so they wouldn''t be nearly as desperate to let someone switch sides.


    The whole new team was arrayed around a trio of masked figures that she didn''t recognize at all. Mostly because they weren''t wearing colorful costumes. It just looked like three people in simple schematics not unlike the one she was wearing. Either way, after three were outnumbered and surrounded.


    Great, now she had to watch them be heroes and get all the adulation. Or maybe not. Maybe she could just ignore them, grab her kit, and get out of here without being forced to see any of that.


    But just as she started to climb in the bus, there was a bright flash. Her head snapped up to look that way just in time to see all three of those mysterious figures, as well as the Minority themselves, vanish into thin air. Well, at least she didn''t have to watch them. Some sort of teleportation device?


    There, she was on the bus, and her model was right where she''d left it. With a sigh of relief, feeling a little silly that she''d even bothered to put this mask on, she started to crawl that way.


    Then she heard it. A girl was screaming. Lifting her head to look back out the cracked window of the bus, Arleigh realized that not all of those masked figures were gone. There were two more of them, one an obvious short woman wearing army camo fatigues with that same dark mask, while the other seemed to be a very hairy black man standing in a strange, almost hunched over position. He was wearing a tank top and baggy pants, with long hair sticking out from under his own mask.


    Both of them were stalking right towards a couple children who were cowering on the ground. The kids look like they couldn''t be older than eight or so, siblings probably. There were a couple bikes laying next to them, where they had apparently fallen off. Probably thanks to the big chunk of concrete that had been flung that way and was resting against the nearby wall. Obviously those girls had been riding their bikes before one of the two masked figures threw that debris and made them fall off. Now they were there, clinging to one another as they cried out for help.


    Too bad the Minority had already disappeared. Maybe someone could have helped these kids. With a shrug, Arleigh reached out toward her model kit. Right there. All she had to do was grab it and bounce. There was no way she was going to throw down with a couple mysterious Touched whose powers she didn''t even know. Especially when one of them was strong enough to throw a chunk of concrete that size. It would¡¯ve been suicide. Besides, she wasn''t a hero. Maybe it would''ve been cool to see what it was like from the other side, but like this? No fucking way.


    The sound of the hairy man''s voice reached her then, as he taunted the girls about the terrible things he was going to do to them. His voice was guttural and sent a shiver through Arleigh.


    Some good Samaritan, a man with a baseball bat, went to intervene just as she grabbed her model and straightened up. With a model tucked under her arm, she looked that way just in time to see the short woman grab the bat from the man''s hands, break the thing into splinters with a casual squeeze of her hand, then grab him and throw the guy so hard into a wall that he very clearly didn''t survive. His body simply shattered and¡­ and basically liquefied with a sickening crunch. That was how strong the bitch was.


    Those little girls screamed again, now that it was very clear that this wasn''t some twisted game. These two weren''t just scaring them for fun. They had casually killed a man for standing against them. They were going to take those girls, and they were going to do terrible things to them. Worse, these two were powerful. That woman had to be unbelievably strong to do something like that in one casual toss. It didn''t even look like she was meaningfully exerting herself.


    No, trying to stand up against those two without knowing anything about them other than the fact that the woman was strong enough to do that was idiotic. It was a stupid, stupid thought. Only a fucking moron would go out there.


    So why exactly was it that, just as the hairy man reached out to the screaming girls once more, he was interrupted again? Why was it, exactly, that the interruption in question was Arleigh herself? The model kit was still back on the bus where she had dropped it. Just as the man reached for those kids, she jumped out of the bus, thrust her hand that way, and encased the man in an eight-foot forcefield bubble. In the bubble, a tornado appeared, battering the man with powerful winds.


    ¡°Hey!¡± she called. ¡°Why don''t you leave those kids alone?


    ¡°And pick on someone who can actually fight back, you fucking cowards.¡±


    (To Be Continued Next Chapter)

 Intermission Interlude - Arleigh (Part Two)

    Whoever these two freaks were, they apparently weren''t exactly impressed when Arleigh showed herself. Which, well, okay maybe that made sense. After all, she wasn''t in her actual costume. They clearly didn''t know who she was any more than she knew who they were.


    But hey, on the other hand, she had used her power. The big guy was still trapped in one of her bubbles, being battered by heavy winds, and she had just started pelting him with large hailstones. It really shouldn''t have been hard for them to figure out she was Clime, even if she wasn''t exactly dressed like she normally would be. So maybe they were just that stupid, or they were so new to town they didn''t know how dangerous she could be if they really pissed her off.


    The hairy man caught in her weather bubble smacked the sides a few times, not that it did him any good. As long as she was still focused on the bubble, it would stay nearly impenetrable.


    Of course, the downside of that was that if she got distracted, the bubble would become very fragile and easily broken. And the strong woman was already walking toward her. She didn''t seem to be in any sort of rush, simply casually strolling that way as though coming over to introduce herself. But Arleigh wasn''t fooled, especially considering the way the woman reached out to rip a metal bus stop sign out of the ground. A chunk of concrete came up with it. She snapped the sign in half without any apparent effort, dropping the bit with the piece of sidewalk still attached.


    She finally spoke, her voice slightly accented in a way that made her sound Chinese or something. ¡°Aww, xi¨£o k¨§ ¨¤i, there¡¯s no need for such rude language. You don¡¯t need to speak with such filth to make your point. Now, you seem like a fun girl to warm up with. Let¡¯s hear what noises you can make before this is over, shall we?¡±


    With that, she abruptly threw the metal sign post like a spear. As soon as she saw the woman start to throw the thing, Arleigh focused on creating a new bubble around it. She could make more than one at a time, but taking her attention off the one that was holding the hairy man made it weak enough that he easily punched his way out.


    Unfortunately, Arleigh had bigger problems. Her bubble, the one that was supposed to be almost unbreakable as long as she was focused on it, had only just appeared around the flying, impromptu metal spear before immediately shattering as the thing passed right through it.


    It was just that quick. The woman had thrown the post hard enough that it simply broke the forcefield bubble like it wasn''t even there. Before Arleigh even realized what was going on, before she could process how easily her bubble broke, the jagged metal cut through her arm, drawing a deep and bloody gash before breaking as it hit a lamp post. Most continued onward to embed itself in the brick wall behind her, while a smaller part went sideways and hit a nearby car.


    A shock of sharp pain went through the girl as she looked at her bleeding arm. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman could easily have thrown that thing through her chest or neck without even trying. She could have killed her in one move. But she chose not to. She had very deliberately aimed to cut her arm instead, simply to show her how dangerous she was. She was just playing with Arleigh.


    Intimidation, that was what the woman was going for. That much was obvious. She was trying to intimidate the girl, trying to scare her by showing off how strong she was. The bitch thought she didn''t need to kill Arleigh immediately, because she didn''t see her as any sort of threat.


    Well fuck that. These cocksuckers were going to regret not taking her seriously. They were going to find out what a terrible mistake they had made by not killing her when they had the chance. Arleigh wasn''t just some pathetic amateur who had just Touched. She was one of the most dangerous and badass Fells in the city for a reason, and she damn sure wasn''t going to be intimidated by a couple losers who had simply gotten a bit lucky with a strong power or two.


    The arrogant woman was still casually walking toward her with that uncaring body language. Meanwhile, the hairy man had completely dismissed her as anything that was even worth paying attention to. He turned his back to her and returned his attention to those cowering kids. Clearly, he had decided that his partner would deal with her just fine by herself. He didn''t even need to watch. It was like the fucking bastard had simply put her out of his mind just like that.


    Okay, that really pissed her off. It was long past time to show these two how stupid they really were. Which started with putting a bubble around the woman. She had a good idea of how strong the bitch was, so she needed to call up something good. Lightning. She could make every weather effect possible in those bubbles. She was¡­ iffy on lightning. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn¡¯t. Lightning was difficult. But now it came easily. The bubble encased the woman, a bolt of lightning filled the thing with a blinding flash and a terrifying boom, and¡­


    And the woman was just there, completely unaffected, completely uncaring. Arleigh had just hit her with what amounted to her big punch, lightning bolt in a bubble, and she might as well have thrown dirt at her. With one sharp tap of her knuckles against the bubble, she shattered the thing from the inside. Arleigh was focused on it, it should have been almost unbreakable.


    But almost wasn¡¯t totally unbreakable. This one collapsed at what amounted to a casual knock from the woman. She barely even broke stride, either for the bubble itself or the lightning. They didn¡¯t stop her, they didn¡¯t affect her. She hardly noticed either thing.


    As that fucking cunt kept walking toward her, Arleigh summoned a brand new bubble. This one was smaller, centered just around the woman''s head as she was walking that way so casually. She didn''t bother to focus on it any longer than it took to create the thing. The woman could break through it even if she did focus on maintaining it, so there was no point. This wasn''t about keeping the bubble in place or actually stopping that bitch. It was about putting the bubble there very briefly, just long enough to fill it with an incredibly thick, dark fog. Even after the bubble broke, the fog was still there, just starting to expand out of the space it had been trapped in. That meant even as this arrogant cunt strolled forward, some of that thick fog was still screwing up her vision. She couldn''t see what Arleigh was actually doing.


    And what the girl was doing was running right at her. Well, sort of. On the way, she created several smaller bubbles arranged like stepping stones leading up and over the woman. Arleigh focused on each one just as her foot came down on it so the bubble wouldn''t break under her weight. She used the small forcefield balls like stairs, running up and over this bitch.


    Once she was directly over the woman''s head, balancing on top of a five-foot wide bubble, Arleigh filled that bubble with very thick muddy water. Few people knew that she had that much control over the weather effects she created. She could make what amounted to a dark sludge that was barely liquid. The stuff amounted to very wet, tar-like mud. And just like that, as she flung herself off that bubble, Arleigh disabled the thing and left that mud to drop right onto the cunt¡¯s face. No sooner would she step out of that fog, than her vision would be blocked all over again. And this time, it wouldn''t be as easy as just walking forward to get out of it. The mud completely covered her mask, getting right into her eyes. That''d keep her busy for a second.


    Dropping down behind the woman, and well out of reach just in case she tried flailing around, Arleigh focused on the man who was reaching for those kids again. He obviously had something of a one-track mind, and she didn''t want to think about what he intended to do to them. Yeah, she was a Fell, and proud of it. But those were little kids, damn it. This fucker absolutely needed to go down, with extreme prejudice and as hard and painfully as possible.


    Already rising to her feet after landing in a crouch, Arleigh ignored the pain from the cut in her arm. It didn''t matter. She was going to make these cocksuckers feel so much worse before this shit was over. They were going to regret showing up here in the first place, let alone pissing her off. The sharp throbbing in her bicep that came whenever she moved it only made Arleigh more focused on making them pay. When this was done, both of these fucks would remember her name forever.


    Just as the hairy guy was about to grab one of those kids, Arleigh encased him in another bubble. This one immediately became as hot as she could make it, a sweltering rush of heat filling it like the Sahara desert on a particularly warm and dry day. No sooner was the man trapped in that hot bubble than she was already making it fly and backward, dragging him away from those kids before sending it flying as hard as she could at a wall. Her voice was sharp as she snapped, ¡°How about you pay attention to me and keep your disgusting fucking mitts off--¡±


    Something slammed into her from the side. She couldn''t even see what it was. It came so fast, and was practically invisible. It was like the thing was made out of glass, some sort of small creature not even half her size. It was running on all fours, a glass creature that crashed into the girl and knocked her sideways. The impact sent renewed pain through her as the cut in her arm was jostled. But it soon got worse, as the glass creature, whatever it was, bit into the same arm that had already been cut. The fucking thing had incredibly sharp teeth, easily piercing her skin and drawing a strangled curse of pain from the girl.


    Wait, what the hell was this? This glass thing, it almost seemed like Fragile¡¯s power. But why would that kid be attacking her instead of these cunts? Was the kid really that stupid? And where the hell was she? Could she not see what was going on here? What the actual fuck!?


    That confusing and angry thought passed quickly through her mind even as she was reeling sideways while flinging her arm out with a cry of pain, trying to get the glass creature to let go. But it just held on tighter. Worse, two more came running up. One bit into her leg while the other jumped to slam into her stomach, making her stumble backward with a heavy wheeze.


    Then those glass creatures fell away from her. But it wasn''t an improvement. They fell away because she was suddenly by the back of her neck and one arm before being bodily yanked up into the air. That Chinese woman had turned around while Arleigh was distracted and reached out to catch her with an easy chuckle. ¡°You really are such a delightful little girl,¡± she announced, just before twisting her grip on the girl¡¯s arm. It wasn''t much, barely the equivalent effort that one might put into snapping a pretzel in half. Maybe not even that much. But Arleigh¡¯s arm broke just like that. The woman had barely tried at all, and still managed to simply snap her arm just that easily, breaking it in a couple places while making a slight tutting noise.


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    The shock of that pain had only just barely started to fill Arleigh¡¯s conscious mind before the woman casually threw her into a nearby car. It was the same car that piece of metal had hit, and the thing clattered to the ground nearby, knocked loose from the force of her hitting the car. All of which only made the pain worse. Her right arm was very thoroughly broken, while her left arm still had that bleeding gash in it from the cut and those deep teeth marks where that glass creature had bitten her. She hadn''t even recovered from the second creature slamming into her stomach moments earlier. Oh, and there was the other bite from that third creature in her leg. And now she had been unceremoniously thrown into that goddamn car with such force she could feel the bruises forming already. She might have broken something else too with that.


    She was, in a word, hurt. Her mind was spinning, the pain overwhelming. Who the fuck were these people!? What the hell was going on? She was upside down, slumped on the ground while the agonizing pain washed over her, leaving it almost impossible to focus on anything. Everything hurt, every motion she made sent blinding agony through her body. Oww, oww, fuck!


    Before she could even start to orient herself, the woman grabbed her ankle. A cry escaped Arleigh, but the woman didn¡¯t squeeze. She just gave a gentle pull, dragging Arleigh off the side of the car before leaving her flat on her back, staring up that way. It was so hard to focus through the pain, but after a moment she finally managed to hear the words that strong bitch was saying.


    ¡°You are a delightful girl, as I said,¡± she repeated. ¡°Stay down, remain where you are, and we will maybe come back to play with you another time, when you have more experience. You need practice before you¡¯ll be ready to go up against us. Stay here, leave us to our work. You don¡¯t need to be hurt anymore today. You certainly don¡¯t need to die. Stay put. I¡¯m certain you have a loved one or two who wouldn¡¯t want to see you get any more harmed than you already are. You will be safe now, I will not make another move against you unless you leave me no choice.¡±


    With that flat order, she turned away from the crumpled girl and called out to her partner. ¡°Are you quite well? That impact looked like it might have left a booboo or two. Now now, leave the girl, she¡¯ll make quite the sparring partner at some point, but she¡¯s just too weak and untrained for the moment. Call off your pets and let¡¯s move on. You can grab one of the children to take with you to have fun with later, but only one. Choose wisely, you know you break your toys easily, and if you kill them too fast, you won¡¯t have one to play with when you get bored again.¡±


    Through all that, Arleigh just continued to lay there, flat on her back. It hurt too much to try to move. Every part of her body seemed to be swimming in agony. Every breath she took sent another rush of pain through her, drawing a weak series of whimpers while she struggled to process what the woman was saying. Why was it so hard to think straight right now?


    By the time Arleigh lifted her head, the woman was gone. She had simply walked away after all that. Arleigh caught a glimpse of her casually turning a corner at the end of the street, apparently having completely dismissed the girl who tried to stop her from her mind. She just walked away, off to do whatever it was she had come here to do, to accomplish the next bit of damage on her list.


    But the man, he wasn¡¯t leaving yet. Arleigh could see several of his glass-like animals lined up around her, watching her carefully. They looked like dogs, like glass dogs of various breeds. Arleigh could still feel the pain from their bites, and now they were just standing there, staring at her as though waiting for her to make the first move.


    As for the guy himself, their master apparently, he had turned to focus on the kids. His hand was moving back and forth between the two cowering children, and she belatedly realized he was doing the eenie meenie thing to choose which one to take with him.


    The thought made Arleigh shudder, which sent a jolt of pain running through her. The arm that cunt had so casually broken hurt so much. Her eyes closed and she let her head fall back against the pavement beside the wheel of that car. The sound of the man tauntingly using a children¡¯s rhyme to choose which of the kids to subject to horrific things, and the soft, terrified cries from those kids themselves, hurt worse than her arm. But what was she supposed to do? The strong bitch had walked away, but this guy still had his nearly-invisible glass dogs surrounding her. To say nothing of the fact that every motion she made sent waves of agony through her.


    Stay down. Stay there. She didn¡¯t have to move. She didn¡¯t have to do anything. No one knew who she was. She didn¡¯t know those girls, they meant nothing to her. They were nobodies, nothing. She could stay where she was, recover from this, and make both those cunts pay for underestimating her.


    The hairy man¡¯s long black claw, extending from his index finger, touched one of the children¡¯s chin. Then he was, yet again, interrupted. This time by a new forcefield bubble. But this one didn¡¯t appear around the man himself. Instead, it surrounded the two girls, before flying up into the air. With a pair of surprised, confused squeals, the kids were flown as far away down the street as Arleigh could manage. She sent the bubble around the corner before losing sight of it. The thing would pop, letting them out.


    There she stood. Shakily, but she did stand. She was back on her feet with the angry, snarling glass dogs arrayed in a semicircle around her. But Arleigh¡¯s focus was on the man himself. ¡°I thought¡­ I told you¡­ to leave them alone.¡±


    Slowly, the man turned to stare over his shoulder at her. She saw his eyes through the ski mask, and they sent a renewed shudder through the girl. Then he chuckled, a distorted, twisted sound. ¡°You think this changes anything? You think they matter?¡±


    As he said that, one of his glass dogs leapt at Arleigh. She was ready, quickly creating a bubble around the thing before sending it flying off with a thrust from the hand that wasn¡¯t attached to a broken arm. Even as that bubble popped from the force of the dog colliding with the side of it when it was thrown down the street, Arleigh was creating a second bubble around two more dogs before sending them flying in the opposite direction.


    That was when the man himself came at her. He was quick, suddenly going from standing with his back to Arleigh and just looking over his shoulder at her, to crossing half the distance toward her. And he didn¡¯t run at her like a man. He loped like an animal, twisting around to face the girl before scrambling toward her, hands slapping against the ground as he bounded that way like some sort of ape. Except he was moving so much faster than he should¡¯ve been able to like that. His form was a blur of motion.


    In that last second, just before he could cross the remaining distance between them in one lunge, Arleigh caught him in a bubble. Okay, time to be done with this guy. Strong bitch might¡¯ve been unaffected by the lightning, but this guy didn¡¯t have any such protect--


    Something-- another one of those fucking dogs suddenly bit her leg hard. A fifth leapt in from behind Arleigh, teeth tearing into her side. She cried out, staggering as she lost focus. The attempted lightning bolt fizzled, and the bubble popped.


    The man slammed into her, knocking the wind out of Arleigh as he put her on the ground. A blinding shock of pain ran through the girl. Her broken arm lay twisted, even more damaged now. She was bleeding in multiple spots, and her ears were ringing from the force of her head colliding with the concrete when she was knocked down.


    ¡°I asked you a question,¡± the man snarled, his foul breath reeking of rotting meat. ¡°Do you think this changes anything? It doesn¡¯t. It changes nothing. Those girls can leave, who cares? There¡¯s thousands more just like them. I¡¯ll just pick another one at random. Then another, then another. Maybe I¡¯ll get lucky and find those two again, I¡¯ve got their scent. But even if I don¡¯t, it¡¯s not like they¡¯re important. They¡¯re just meat, and I can always find more of that. But you?¡± His head tilted, and she could tell he was smiling down at her from behind that mask. ¡°I would kill you, but she wants you alive. So stay down. Cuz you try me one more time and I won¡¯t care what she wants. I¡¯ll take your fucking throat out.¡±


    She tried to make a bubble, but it was so hard to focus. It was so hard to do anything at all, even think. The man¡¯s words bounced through her head, bringing even more pain than the collision with the concrete had. Everything in her hurt. Pain was the only thing she knew. All while he simply chuckled and began to stand up.


    Her head turned, slumped sideways against the pavement. She could feel her blood dripping onto the concrete from multiple wounds. In the distance, she saw the overturned bus. She saw through the shattered windows, and looked straight at the pristine box with the model plane in it. Her eyes blinked, and she saw the first version of that model she¡¯d had, burning in the trash can while she screamed and flailed against her brother¡¯s iron grip.


    She blinked again, and saw the pristine model. The flames. The bus. The box. The trashcan. Her brother¡¯s voice, the snarling of the glass dogs. The sound of this man standing up to leave her. He could leave. He would leave. After all that, he would walk away and leave her to get better.


    He would walk away to hurt other children.


    ¡°Do you know what my dad told me?¡±


    Arleigh¡¯s words made the man pause in the midst of standing. His eyes blinked at her. ¡°What?¡±


    Still lying there, arm broken, bleeding in more places than she could count, dazed and only conscious through sheer will, the girl continued with a voice that was only barely audible. ¡°I wanted to join the Minority. Not just this time. The first time. When I got my powers. I wanted to join the Minority then. He told me I wasn¡¯t that kind of person. He told me I was selfish, that I wouldn¡¯t fit, that I wasn¡¯t what they were looking for. He told me my job was to be a good soldier for him, to be part of the family. He told me I wasn¡¯t a good person.¡±


    She went silent then, long enough for the man to almost think she was done talking, before giving a weak little shudder as she continued. ¡°And this time, when I told him I could join them just to spy on them, he said the same thing. He said I could never stand to live as a hero, that it¡¯s not who I am.¡±


    The masked figure straightened a little, starting to respond. Then he seemed to realize that she wasn¡¯t looking at him. Her head was still turned a bit, yet she wasn¡¯t looking at the bus anymore either. Instead, her focus was on something just above and to the left of where she was laying. His own gaze rose, landing on the damage that piece of metal that had ricocheted off the lamppost had done to this car, the same one she had been thrown into. Before it was knocked loose by the impact of Arleigh¡¯s body with the car, that jagged chunk of metal spear that had embedded itself partway through the small door to the gas cap, and into the cap itself. When it fell out, the thing left a hole, an opening leading right into the gas tank.


    An opening with a small bubble right in front of it. A bubble that flickered and faltered with each passing second. It was all she could do just to keep the bubble there. Focusing was so hard. Thinking was so hard. It was almost done now. It was almost enough.


    ¡°Dad was right,¡± she murmured softly. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stand to live as a hero. It¡¯s not who I am. But¡­ I think I could stand to d--¡±


    The vile man started to pivot, started to throw himself away from her, and the time for words was over. That tiny bubble solidified for just a moment, long enough for Arleigh to summon a miniature lightning bolt before immediately disabling the bubble itself. The bolt shot through it and onward, down into the gas tank.


    It wasn¡¯t the biggest explosion in the world.


    But it was enough to make sure that man would never fulfill his promise to harm another living child.

 Wild 33-08 (Interlude Arc)

    Seeing that prick in that heavy power armor sauntering arrogantly toward them as he went on about breaking a few bones to coax answers out of them, Irelyn set Paige back down and gave her a slight push to one side. Her eyes shifted a bit, taking in the rest of their surroundings. They were in the middle of the ghost village, with more of their pursuers coming to a stop all around them. The man himself was a big enough problem, but he wasn¡¯t alone. There were suddenly somewhere close to twenty armed troops spreading out to take aim at the two from all sides.


    ¡°Or,¡± he was saying, ¡°you could just make this easy on everyone and start talking right now.¡±


    ¡°Start talking?¡± That was Paige, the girl¡¯s voice only slightly muffled by the helmet she was wearing. ¡°You know, I happen to have a¡­ a friend who would take that request as an opening to really start in with the jokes, the insults, the--you¡¯d never be able to get them to shut up, let¡¯s just leave it at that. You really have to be pretty careful how you phrase that sort of thing with them.¡±


    As she was saying that, the girl slowly walked forward, hands locked behind her head in a surrender position. With the armored man glaring at her, she walked right up to within a couple feet of him before stopping. There she stood, a young woman in a motorcycle helmet and casual clothes, standing almost a foot and a half shorter than the heavily armored man in front of her.


    Much as Irelyn wanted to tell Paige to stop, get the hell back where she was, and draw the man¡¯s attention back to her, she had to believe that her sister knew what she was doing. Paige wasn¡¯t just an ordinary child. Neither of them were, her or Sierra. They deserved to have all the opportunities of an ordinary teenager, of any ordinary person, but they weren¡¯t helpless and she couldn¡¯t just treat them like they were. Especially in this sort of situation. She had to trust Paige if they were going to get through this. No matter how much seeing her standing that close to this piece of shit made her want to immediately put a stop to whatever this plan of hers was.


    There was a very low, humorless chuckle from the man himself. He stood there in that seven-foot-tall set of brown and black armor with the demonic helmet, its glowing orange eyes seeming to go straight through anyone he was looking at. Paige, in this case. His form completely towered over hers in every way. ¡°Well, thanks for the advice, kid. In that case, let me be clear.¡± He raised one hand, and part of the gauntlet opened up to allow a laser barrel to rise into place, pointed at her from point blank range. The tip of the barrel almost touched her nose. ¡°My name is Battlement. I¡¯ve been following leads to find this place for a very long time. Too god damn long, really. I¡¯m tired of this job. I want to move on and do something interesting again. So if one of you doesn¡¯t tell me exactly where the entrance to the Adherents¡¯ teleportation system is by the time I count to six, I¡¯m going to use this laser to cut your left arm off. Then I¡¯ll do the right. After that, we¡¯ll start with the legs and see how you feel when you¡¯re nothing but a torso and head.¡± The barrel of the laser tipped down then up again as though pointedly looking her over. ¡°Which, from where I¡¯m standing, would be a real waste, because they are fine limbs indeed.¡±


    ¡°Ew,¡± Paige replied succinctly even as Irelyn was judging whether she could go ahead and take the man¡¯s head off with one leap and swing before the troops assembled around them could react. But she gave her sister another chance to keep talking. She was doing something. ¡°And you don¡¯t need to do that. We¡¯ll leap right over all that and tell you exactly where you need to go.¡±


    ¡°Babe,¡± he cut in, ¡°if this is just your way of leading up to telling me to go to hell, just get to it.¡±


    Paige, however, offered a shrug. ¡°Actually, I was gonna say, you should go up!¡± And with that, her hand snapped out to grab his arm. He was too strong for her to move it at all, in that armor, but she wasn¡¯t actually trying to move it. Instead, Paige used the fact that he reflexively resisted any motion and held his arm very still in order to lever herself up and over his head. The weapon fired, sending a laser just past her rising form as she used his arm as a gymnastics pole to flip over behind the man. As she came down, her hands caught his back. In that brief instant, and only because she knew what to look for, Irelyn saw the interface wires come out of her sister¡¯s fingers, plugging into part of the armor itself. Specifically, into his jetpack. And just as Paige had said, the man immediately went up. His pack activated, launching him far into the sky with a yelp.


    He might have recovered from that quickly enough for his brief trip to not really matter that much. Certainly quickly enough to intervene before all of his troops could be dealt with. But launching him into the air was only the first part. As soon as he was up there, already regaining control of his jetpack, Irelyn was gathering herself. She heard the other mercs reacting, shouting, taking aim, but they didn¡¯t matter. He mattered. They had to deal with the man in charge. That was the biggest threat.


    To that end, Irelyn focused on him. Her empowered leap carried the woman that way, and before he could get himself completely under control, she slammed into him. The force of the impact, combined with his position in the sky and total lack of solid footing, allowed Irelyn to knock the man through the air, away from that spot. The jetpack, still going off slightly, carried them further than her leap could have managed by itself. But eventually they came down, crashing through the trees. He was cursing loudly. Branches snapped and broke around them before he hit the ground hard and skidded away, leaving a deep indentation and spraying dirt in every direction before hitting a boulder that cracked and fell apart under the blow with a sound like thunder. Irelyn had flipped backwards away from him, and landed back on her feet. They were far enough away from his troops by that point that he wouldn¡¯t immediately have backup. Off in the distance, the shooting had already started. The men were shooting at Paige.


    As though reading her mind, before he¡¯d even picked himself up, the armored man snapped, ¡°Good job, now your little sidekick friend--¡± He got that far before a slot opened up in his back and another barrel extended, filling the air not with a laser, but a wide-encompassing burst of flame. The white-hot fire instantly raised the temperature of the surrounding area enough to be painful even several feet away from where the actual flames were. ¡°--is gonna get her stupid ass killed for nothing!¡± Not content to simply rely on his fire to do the job, Battlement seemed to anticipate that she would jump over it, so twin gun barrels extended from his shoulders and began to fill the air with a rapid flurry of mixed bullets and lasers. ¡°Cuz we¡¯ll still find the damn teleportation system!¡±


    Unfortunately for the man¡¯s attempt to trap Irelyn, he wasn¡¯t thinking three-dimensionally. Up and down, after all, weren¡¯t the only directions she could move. As soon as the flame came at her, she did indeed leap away, but she went backwards. She had, after all, been doing this for quite awhile and knew when someone was trying to herd her into a trap. That quick hop carried her a good fifty feet backwards before her feet planted against the side of a tree. While he was still shooting into the air and carrying on, she kicked off and sent herself sideways and forward a bit.


    Rebounding off three other trees in rapid succession, Irelyn sent herself all the way around the man until she ended up almost but not quite directly behind him. The last bounce sent her that way, as she gave two quick swipes of the sword she had snatched from its sheath. The loud staccato sound of his shoulder weapons firing was silenced as the weapons were cut clean off. Irelyn, meanwhile, came down about twenty feet past the man to his left, skidding on her feet.


    Paige would be fine. Despite the man¡¯s words, Irelyn simply told herself that. Getting this guy away from his companions so he didn¡¯t have backup was the best way to deal with him, and making sure he couldn¡¯t help the other troops was the best way of dealing with those guys. Much as she wished she could be in both places at once, she couldn¡¯t. It was impossible. She¡¯d had to choose whether she should focus on him or his goons, and he was the biggest threat. Which meant leaving Paige to handle those guys. She just had to trust that her little sister could do that.


    Maybe some would have said something like that, would have told the man that that supposedly helpless little girl was already picking his men apart. Some Touched would certainly have taunted him about cutting off his weapons, or the fact that he had completely missed her with every shot. But Irelyn just wasn¡¯t like that. She stayed silent, focusing on doing her job. In her experience, that tended to unnerve these people as much as the taunting did, if not more in some cases.


    Unfortunately, the man wasn¡¯t exactly about to surrender just because a couple of his weapons had been cut off. Apparently he still had plenty to go around, judging by the slots that opened up along the side of his armor. A dozen hockey puck-like discs shot out, spinning through the air as they came at her. Irelyn was already launching herself sideways, even as the first disc exploded into a spray of liquid that narrowly missed her. That was immediately followed by three more discs breaking apart into globs of liquid. All sailed past the woman before hitting trees and rocks behind her. As they did so, the liquid instantly hardened into a firm shell against whatever it hit.


    With a couple more quick jumps, Irelyn avoided almost every single one of those pucks. But it was the last one, that final puck, that exploded before she could dodge again. Her right leg was caught in the spray, which instantly hardened and became an almost impenetrable amber-like shell that locked her to the ground. The damn stuff was covering everything from her knee down.


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    Before Irelyn could yank herself free, Battlement used his jetpack to launch himself that way. His armored fist came down, and she barely managed to jerk her head back enough to avoid a direct hit. Even then, the grazing blow across her temple knocked her for a loop. She was even wearing her reinforced samurai-like mask, which was probably the only reason she wasn¡¯t immediately knocked unconscious by the hit. The man was strong. Or his armor simply made him that. Either way, she saw stars briefly, a grunt escaping her as her head was knocked sideways. Yet she couldn¡¯t actually be thrown anywhere with her leg firmly trapped as it was.


    He reared back to hit her again, but Irelyn snapped her sword up into his path. She wasn¡¯t strong enough to actually cut through that armor, but his own swing was. The blade cut deep into the gauntlet, making him stop short before it would have cut all the way through. That was the good news. The bad news was that the force of the blow tore the weapon out of her hand and a sharp snap of his arm sent it flying away to clatter loudly along the dirt completely out of her reach.


    The man barely paused before his fist lashed out again, backhanding her that time. Once again, her armored mask took the brunt of the blow and probably saved her life. But it was still enough to knock most of the sense from her, the pain making her grunt as her neck nearly snapped from the sheer force it was subjected to. Through it all, he was cursing, threatening her, saying things about what he was going to do to her and her sister, even as his fist collided with the side of her head a third time. She could barely think, barely focus on anything, barely remember where she was. Her ears were ringing, vision seeming to fade in and out even as he promised more pain.


    In most cases, getting close to her like this was a bad idea for the person involved. Her stamina draining power would have left him unconscious very quickly. But his armor was shielding him from that. It left the woman somewhat handicapped, unable to rely on one of her main abilities.


    Rather than hit her a fourth time, Battlement closed his armored fist around her throat, cutting off her air as he forced her to look up at his own demonic helmet. He was breathing rather heavily, muttering curses for another moment before snapping, ¡°You think this is fun? You think I enjoy wasting my time beating the shit out of arrogant little girls?¡± A very brief pause followed before his harsh chuckle filled the air. ¡°Well, you¡¯re right, it¡¯s a hoot. But playtime¡¯s over. You¡¯re gonna tell me what I want to know, or I¡¯ll snap your spine right now and go find the other one. But so we¡¯re clear, I don¡¯t mean I¡¯ll just kill you. I¡¯ll just leave you paraplegic so you can watch what happens.¡±


    In the distance, both of them heard¡­ explosions. There were explosions happening. The man chuckled. ¡°See, they¡¯re already having fun with that bitch. We better hurry, or there won¡¯t be enough of her left for me to play with. So what¡¯s it gonna be?¡±


    His grip loosened then, just a little bit as he gave her enough air to actually answer his question. Those glowing eyes were like flames burning right through her, seeming to capture all of her attention, making it all-but impossible to look away while the rest of the world faded into darkness. All that existed were those two orange spots, like glowing embers. A deliberate effect, no doubt, meant for intimidation now that he¡¯d trapped her leg and beaten her nearly senseless. He wanted her to be afraid, wanted her to see only those two eyes and feel terrified of what else he might do to her, or to Paige. He wanted her to surrender to escape any further pain for them.


    With just enough air filling her lungs once more to allow her to speak, Irelyn gave a low, soft wheeze. She breathed in shakily, then out before speaking in a strained, barely audible voice. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± After saying that and seeing the way it made his chin rise with obvious arrogance, she repeated just as weakly, ¡°You¡­ are totally right.¡± Another somewhat shaky and uncertain breath followed, even as she could almost picture his widening smile behind that dark helmet.


    ¡°Playtime¡¯s over.¡± Those two words, an echo of his own, were very different than her previous ones. The shakiness, fear, and uncertainty were all gone. Her voice sounded completely fine. No, not fine. Angry. She sounded angry, and certainly not as though she was just about to surrender.


    Hearing the sudden and unexpected change in her voice, Battlement reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. His hand began to close around her throat tightly once more. Yet even as he started to do that, Irelyn was already making her move. Which, in this case, meant triggering the laser weapon that she had cut off his gauntlet with that earlier blow, the one that had knocked the sword from her hand. The truth was that she had let go of it so she could catch the laser as it was cut free. The thing wasn''t tied into its main power source anymore, but it still had just enough juice in it for one or two good shots even by itself. Most people wouldn''t have known that, or known how to use the weapon after it was cut off the armor. But Irelyn had spent so many years training for these sorts of scenarios, which included hours upon hours of studying various types of armor like his. She knew exactly how to find the manual trigger.


    Because she had been doing this for a very long time.


    Irelyn didn''t waste what was probably the only shot she had by trying to hit the man himself. It was honestly doubtful that it would actually do enough damage through all that armor to matter. And that was if it would even shoot that way at all. Most of these types had safety measures built in that would prevent their weapons from working properly if they were pointed back at them. Some would even explode. It was just common sense, really. There was really no reason to even try. Instead, when she pressed the manual fire button hidden on the side of the weapon that she had spent the past few seconds finding blindly while he was busy hitting her repeatedly, it was pointed at the hardened amber crap that had been holding her leg trapped against the ground.


    The other thing she had done in those seconds was make sure the weapon was turned all the way up. Which meant the laser cut right through that amber stuff. It would probably have taken her leg along with it, if she hadn''t been very careful about where it was aimed. None of that had exactly been fun to focus on while Battlement was punching her repeatedly. Not that that would have been at all enjoyable no matter what else she happened to be doing at the time, but still.


    At the same time, even as the laser was cutting that one leg free, Irelyn was already lifting the other. Before Battlement could finish closing his hand around her throat once more, her foot slammed into his stomach. It didn''t break through his armor, but the force of her empowered kick was enough to knock the man away from her. His fingers left her neck as he stumbled backward several quick steps and flailed a bit to catch his balance so he wouldn''t fall over.


    By that point, the laser had cut through a good portion of the crap holding her down. With a grunt, Irelyn kicked her leg free the rest of the way. Shards of the hardened amber flew off in every direction. Before the man could recover, she was already leaping that way. In midair, her hand snapped out toward her fallen sword in the distance, as she activated the tech on her glove that summoned it right back to her. As if no one had ever thought about disarming her before. They¡¯d dealt with that problem years ago. Besides, it wasn¡¯t even her only weapon, a fact that was made even more clear as she used her other hand to snap her second, slightly smaller sword out of its hidden sheath.


    Battlement had steadied himself by then, and was straightening back up. But in that moment, Irelyn reached him. Both of her swords came down as hard as she could swing them with the added force of her forward momentum, slamming into and cutting partway through the armor around his neck. There she hung, suspended by her grip on her weapons as they were buried several inches into that armor. She and her opponent were face to face like that.


    Then Irelyn levered herself upward, using her grip on the swords to heave her body upside down. Both of her feet lashed out through that motion, colliding with his helmet with enough force to knock his head backward even more than his blows had done for her. More importantly, and more devastatingly for the man in question, his helmet went flying. She hadn¡¯t been simply aiming randomly with those swords. Those few seconds she had spent up close and personal while he had been hitting her had given her a good look at where the locking mechanisms were, and her swords had cut right through most of them. The force of her kick did the rest of the work, sending his helmet flying and revealing a rather skinny-looking and very pale man with a thin mustache and stringy hair beyond. He almost looked like he could fit inside one of the power armor¡¯s legs.


    Releasing her grip on the swords, Irelyn flung herself into the air and flipped over to land on the back of the armor itself. Her hands grabbed either side of the man¡¯s exposed head, and she focused intently. He wasn¡¯t shielded from her power anymore. Not like this. He cursed, flailed, struggled to break free, and threatened her. But in the end, none of it mattered. He went down heavily, Irelyn barely managing to jump away from the falling armor before it slammed into the dirt with a loud bang.


    For a second, Irelyn stood over him like that, making sure he was really down and out for the count. Then she grabbed her swords, yanked them free once more, and started to move back in the direction of the shooting. She had to get back to Paige. However, after taking a single step, Irelyn paused. A very quiet, almost inaudible sound was coming from the armor. A sound she recognized belatedly. It was the hiss of drugs being administered. Drugs that, given the sound of his body starting to push itself back up, were some sort of special adrenaline. He was rising behind her, moving slowly but steadily, his arm with one of his weapons attached lifting to take aim at--


    With a quick pivot, Irelyn faced the man, arm already extended and hand open almost before she had finished the motion. The man stared at her, clearly confused by the obstruction in the middle of his vision. An obstruction that was her smaller sword, currently quivering from the force with which it had been hurled through the air and into the space directly between his eyes.


    The light went out of those eyes, as the man¡¯s body fell limply to the ground once more. Irelyn took just a second to see that it was truly over, then recalled her weapon and turned to head back for Paige. Just in time to hear another explosion.


    What in the hell was going on back there?

 Non-Canon 37 - A Magical Meeting

    It was supposed to be a luxurious trip on the most advanced Touched-Tech train in the world. If it could even still be called a train. It was shaped like one, certainly, with dozens of train-like cars all connected together and being pulled along by a powerful locomotive. But there was no track for the train to run on. It didn''t even stay on the ground. The so-called Skyrail flew through the air several hundred feet in the air. Tickets to ride on this particular flying train were quite expensive, given the luxuries on board. It was more like a cruise in that way.


    If things went as planned, it wouldn''t always be that way. The company behind the flying train had plans to create several more and make them more affordable. They wanted to completely revolutionize travel by combining the benefits of traveling by train and by jet. They wanted to take the sheer number of passengers a train could carry and add the speed and convenience of flight. That would take much more investment, so this first flying train catered to the people who could invest in their business so they might eventually be able to create dozens of them.


    But for now, there was only the single Skyrail. Which meant that the people on board were completely loaded. That made the train a prime target for criminals. The investment company behind this first train¡¯s creators knew that and had hired a powerful, respected security team to keep their passengers safe. After all, it wouldn''t do to have their potential source of fresh new income end up getting robbed, or worse. The security they hired was supposed to be the best.


    Unfortunately, the competence of that security seemed to have been greatly exaggerated, considering the current situation. The flying train had been taken over, its communications blocked, and every member of that vaunted security team knocked unconscious or otherwise disposed of. The train was now in the hands of a gang of mixed Fells and Prevs, all of them dangerous. And the rich passengers were being taken on a ride they definitely didn''t want.


    As the train flew over the empty landscape of northern Michigan, near Lake Huron that marked the border into Canada, two of the invaders stood together on top of the rear-most car. They were all members of the pirate group (Fell gangs that went around raiding the freeways between cities) known as the SlamMans (female members were called SlamMa¡¯ams), or just Slammers. Armed with rifles, they were both watching for anyone who might come to investigate the hovertrain. They¡¯d already redirected the thing to fly out in the middle of nowhere, and turned off the transponder that was supposed to allow it to be tracked and monitored. No one should have known where they were, but they weren''t going to take any chances. The rest of their people were going to take everything out of the train that wasn''t bolted down, while their leader did¡­ well, whatever he wanted. Malignut was a weird one sometimes, always going off on his own to find what he deemed to be the ¡®right victims.¡¯ Either way, by the time the Shields or Stars knew anything was wrong, the Slammers would be long gone, and all they would find was a bunch of spoiled rich motherfuckers and their families tied up in their underwear. They were going to take everything these stupid fucks brought with them on this little exotic flying train vacation of theirs.


    But a key part of that was making sure they didn''t get interrupted by any party poopers. Which was why those two standing on the roof of that rear car were watching the area around them so intently. The train was flying just a little bit above the top of the forest, doing circles over the most remote area they¡¯d been able to find at the moment to stay away from busybodies who might interfere.


    From this height, at the speed the train was going, it might have been dangerous to stand on top of the thing like this. Fortunately, the train projected an invisible protective shield of sorts around itself. It wasn''t enough to stop anything from physically passing through it, but wind was pushed aside. The men were able to stand up as unhindered as they would have been inside the thing, and could gaze in every direction without having to squint whenever they turned to look up toward the front. They had a perfect view all the way around the train from their positions, and would absolutely be able to see if anything--


    ¡°Ahem, pardon me, gentlemen.¡± A voice spoke up from directly--in front of the men? In front of them and down a bit. Both of them jumped and focused their gazes (and rifles) that way, just in time to see what was ostensibly a bird. A raven, in fact. Except this raven almost looked like a robot. His body was covered in gleaming red-gold armor. Even his head was clad in a little helmet with a slot for his beak to stick out of, and his eyes were covered by tiny goggles.


    ¡°What--the fuck?¡± One of the men managed, voice catching a bit in confusion. ¡°Dude, are you seeing this shit? It¡¯s a little robot bird. You think it¡¯s some sort of fancy toy that got out of one of those rich bastards¡¯ suitcases?¡± He raised a foot to nudge toward the diminutive figure curiously.


    The raven hopped backward to avoid the foot, speaking again while pacing back and forth in front of them. ¡°I assure you, my good sirs, I am no toy. And I am no robot. I am known as Birdbrain. It is my solemn duty to inform you that now is the time to surrender. You may do so by laying down your arms, then kneeling and linking your hands behind your heads. Should you fail to follow these instructions in a timely fashion, my comrades and I shall have no choice but to resort to fisticuffs.¡±


    The two men blinked at each other as they absorbed his words over the course of about three full seconds, then turned back to the bird once more and laughed so hard they almost defeated themselves for him by falling off the side of the train. The first man had to grab the second, guffawing heavily. ¡°Oh, damn, I¡¯m sorry, who¡¯re your comrades, a woodpecker and a parakeet?¡±


    For the second time, they were met with an unexpected voice, this one from behind them. ¡°No, us.¡± When the men spun back that way with their guards raised once more, they found themselves facing another surprising sight. Two little human girls, each wearing armor similar to the bird¡¯s. One had green body armor with a matching helmet, a white skirt and boots, and dragonfly wings that fluttered a bit as she stood there. Meanwhile, the girl next to her had silver armor, a blue skirt and boots, and a hooded cloak instead of wings. The first looked like she was maybe ten, while the second couldn¡¯t have been older than twelve. Both were standing with their arms tightly folded while giving what were clearly very disapproving looks at the two confused men.


    ¡°Okay, look, kids,¡± one of the men started with an obviously condescending tone while pointedly lifting his rifle, ¡°both you and your little TONI friend or robot or whatever the hell he is need to go sit down and wait for this whole thing to be over. You can play superhero with some other group back home. We ain¡¯t the people you wanna fucking mess with right now. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re a couple rejects from some local Minority group or what, but this ain¡¯t the place for your games.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll give you one more chance.¡± That was the younger of the two girls, who straightened up to her full yet still very unimpressive height. ¡°It¡¯s only fair. Surrender right now and you won¡¯t get--¡±


    One of the men got tired of listening to that and reached out to grab her. But before he could even close his hands around the girl¡¯s arm, her partner was already reacting by snapping her own hand out. A firehose-like blast of water erupted from her palm and shot that way, while the girl snapped, ¡°Gem Torpedo Rush!¡± The spray caught the man completely unaware, knocking him backwards into his friend. Both of them stumbled and nearly fell off the train, before Birdbrain went flying up past them with a blurted, ¡°Feathered Foil Force!¡± In that moment, four small statues, all of which looked identical to the armored raven, appeared with two on either side of the train roof. They all looked toward the stumbling men as beams of concussive force shot from their left eyes. The two men were hit from both sides, but the beams from the side they were stumbling toward were stronger, pushing them right into the middle once more. While the pair were still recovering from that, a couple much stronger concussive blasts from the suddenly-manifested bird statues tore the rifles from their hands and sent them flying out into open air. At least for a moment, before the smaller girl, the one in green armor, snapped her hand out to throw a couple little metal balls that way. Only belatedly did she remember to call out, ¡°Grabbing Globes, take them home!¡± The balls seemed to home in on the falling rifles, attaching themselves to the barrels before disappearing with them. Just like that, the weapons were gone.


    The two men, suddenly finding themselves disarmed and facing what were obviously three powerful Touched, didn¡¯t think things were so funny anymore. One grabbed for the radio on his belt, while the other went to dive toward the nearby ladder. Neither made it, soon finding themselves trussed up with silver rope that would keep them safely secured to the roof of the train car but unable to move. Their radios had also been taken away as they were left to stay there under the watchful gaze of a single remaining bird statue that would keep an eye on them.


    ¡°Two down!¡± the cheerful voice of Swiftkick, or Wren when she wasn¡¯t dressed up like this, chirped. She bounced up and down a couple times. ¡°We can stop the rest of them, right?¡±


    Cloudburst, or Izzy, gave a quick nod. ¡°Birdbrain¡¯s statue spies said there¡¯s fifteen of them left, spread through the train. If we take it one car at a time, and keep going quickly and carefully before they can warn each other or set up any sort of defenses, I¡¯m pretty sure we can--¡±


    She was interrupted by the sound of shouting coming from several cars ahead. All three (five counting the trussed-up pirates) turned that way just in time to see a blast of what looked like actual lightning shoot out one of the windows there, sending a spray of glass in every direction to rain down over the forest far below. The angry shouting was suddenly much louder then.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Hey--what--what¡¯s going on down there!?¡± Cloudburst gasped out, staring that way as what sounded like actual fighting carried up through that hole. Someone was attacking the pirates.


    ¡°I dunno,¡± Swiftkick admitted, already starting to move, ¡°but we¡¯ve gotta find out before someone else up there gets hurt!¡± She pivoted immediately, holding her hand out toward the car where the lightning had emerged. A small pellet shot out of her glove, rocketing forward and down on its way, whistling through the air as it passed the other train cars. The pellet went right through the broken window, before Swiftkick hit a button on her glove. ¡°Traipsing Traversal, let¡¯s Piggyback!¡±


    ¡°Um, girls,¡± Birdbrain, or Lucent started to say, ¡°perhaps this would be a good time to call for--¡±


    But Swiftkick had already hit that button, and the three of them were enveloped in a wave of bright energy, which immediately transported them all the way up to where the pellet had gone. They appeared inside the train car, in the midst of what turned out to be substantial chaos. This was one of the fancy dining cars, with a dozen or so tables spread through the space for people to eat while looking out over the landscape the train was flying over. It should have been a nice, peaceful space to enjoy their food and marvel at the concept of riding a train hundreds of feet above the planet. But now most of those tables were broken or overturned, with the contents, dishware and food alike, scattered across the floor. The back third of the train car was blocked off by some sort of heavy, thick tree logs and branches that seemed to have grown out of nowhere. The passengers who had been enjoying their meals when the pirates arrived were huddled back there, staying out of the way behind those logs that were keeping them safe.


    Meanwhile, four of the pirates themselves were laying on the floor, groaning in pain and more than a little annoyance as they clutched their arms around themselves. Two were clearly trying not to vomit, one kept scratching himself all over while complaining about how much he itched, and the fourth looked like he was desperately fighting the urge to fall asleep. He kept struggling to sit up, only to slump back down and yawn. It was obviously all he could do just to try to keep his eyes open. A lingering odor of some sort of sleeping gas was barely detectable around him.


    And there, right in the middle of the dining car, were two other figures, dressed just as colorfully as the trio who had just transported here. One was a girl with a gold shirt that was shaped like scalemail armor, under a red long tail jacket. She also had a red skirt over black shorts, with a gold belt, black stockings to match those shorts, knee-high red boots with gold trim, and a metallic red mask with gold eyes that conformed to her face. Her exposed dark hair was short.


    The figure next to her looked rather similar, though with purple where the first girl¡¯s costume was red, and silver where the other¡¯s was gold, and her equally dark hair was long and shaggy.


    The girl in red and gold had a small shield attached to her left arm, and some sort of mace that was extended out to the side as she had been in the midst of pointing to the door at the far end of the train car. Her companion had a trident, which was pointed toward the man who was frantically scratching himself all over. ¡°I guess you could say that trying to rob this train was a rash decision!¡±


    No sooner had she gotten that much out than the girl was already pivoting toward the trio who had just arrived, raising that trident as she started to snap, ¡°And if you think we¡¯re dumb enough t--huh?¡±


    ¡°Stop, stop!¡± The called warning came from¡­ not the girl herself, but something¡­ behind her? No, on her shoulder. A tiny figure seemed to crawl up into view, perching there while waving little arms. The figure was¡­ a lizard? A lizard wearing a miniature spacesuit, with its face visible through the glass visor of the helmet. No, wait, not a lizard, an amphibian. An axolotl. A TONI axolotl in a spacesuit, standing on the costumed girl¡¯s shoulder waving both tiny arms. ¡°Wait! No one fight, this isn¡¯t the time for a heroes having a misunderstanding and fighting each other trope, nobody likes those anymore! And frankly they were annoying and played out after like the second time!¡±


    ¡°Agreed!¡± That was Birdbrain, who flapped up from an overturned table to land on Cloudburst¡¯s shoulder, directly opposite from the axolotl just across the room.


    There they were, one pair of clearly magical girls with a raven sidekick-mentor facing another pair of magical girls with an axolotl sidekick-mentor. All six figures gaped at one another for a silent moment, before Birdbrain cleared his throat. ¡°Ahem, I believe we can safely assume that none of us are working at the behest of these scoundrels. Perhaps further explanations, and greetings, can wait until our true opponents are no longer an active threat.¡±


    The axolotl bobbed his tiny head. ¡°Quite, quite, details aside, we are clearly all attempting to solve this pirate issue. I suggest we work together to that end. Six are better than three, for that.¡± His voice was clearly being projected and magnified by an audio system in the helmet.


    ¡°Ahem,¡± another voice, one that needed no artificial magnification, spoke up from the distant doorway, as a truly large Samoan woman wearing a colorful tropical shirt and equally bright parachute pants came into view. Before Cloudburst and Swiftkick could take her for a threat, the axolotl flew that way. He hovered through the air in his little spacesuit, which was making bubbly noises similar to the flying cars from the ancient Jetsons cartoon. He landed on her outstretched hand, even as the large woman herself corrected, ¡°Seven are also better than three, I would say.


    ¡°Now, how about we kick some pirate booty?¡±


    ********


    ¡°And then I said, ¡®hey, what makes you think I only brought one jelly bean with me?¡¯¡±


    The words of the tall, Samoan woman were met with an assortment of giggles and snickers, while she spread her arms wide with a bright, anticipatory smile. She, and the rest of both groups, were seated on top of what had once been an old yellow school bus. But the bus had been painted bright blue with multicolored sparkle patterns all over it, and had an array of¡­ extra equipment attached. This included what looked like rocket boosters on the back, reinforced armor plating, some sort of radar dish attached to the front just above the windshield, and a bulldozer-like shovel on the front bumper.


    All seven figures were seated there, around a collection of snacks and drinks. The bus was parked on top of a hill, with the train, now landed in an empty field and surrounded by various police and other emergency vehicles, barely visible off in the distance. Birdbrain and Oodles, the axolotl, were sitting together in the middle of the assorted snacks, with the humans surrounding them. Their masks had long-since been removed and introductions made.


    As they all finished giggling at the woman¡¯s, whose name was Heilani, conclusion to her brief little story, it was Cloudburst who spoke up next. ¡°So you guys were already on the train when all that started?¡±


    The girl in silver and purple armor, who had introduced herself as Kelsey, bobbed her head. ¡°Uh huh, sort of, but we were¡­ under cover.¡±


    ¡°One of our uncle¡¯s bad guy friends was on that train,¡± the other girl, Landry, put in. ¡°We¡¯ve been trying to put all of Uncle Asher¡¯s partners in prison, but this one was hard to find. He wanders around the country a lot. All we knew was that he was on that train, so we had to sneak on as staff.¡± She ducked her head under the dubious looks and blushed. ¡°Okay, okay, Heilani was staff. We were more like stowaways.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Kelsey confirmed, ¡°turns out as long as you don¡¯t attract a lot of attention to yourself, adults tend to assume any kid must be someone else¡¯s. Especially if you¡¯re as fashionable as we were. I mean even outside of these awesome costumes, you should see my tuxedo. I added a cape to it with this pink silk interior, I swear it¡¯s the cutest thing you¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    Izzy blinked a couple times at that. ¡°You were in a tuxedo with a cape, walking around the train? And you¡¯re my age? But you think you blended in?¡±


    ¡°Same age, not the same fashion sense,¡± Kelsey noted with a bright grin. ¡°And maybe blending in was more about no one wanting to be responsible for a couple kids when they were just trying to enjoy their vacation. Anyway, it wasn¡¯t hard to just wander around and try to find the guy who looked like our uncle¡¯s friend. At least, it wasn¡¯t hard until the pirates showed up.¡±


    Oodles raised a tiny hand. ¡°We did locate our quarry, as it happens. He has also been secured for the police to detain, with a detailed record of his crimes in an envelope that has been stapled to his shirt.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t even have to transform for that,¡± Landry noted. ¡°Heilani tied him up. But before we could leave, those pirates showed up. How did you guys get there though?¡±


    Birdbrain pecked at a dish of peanuts, then explained, ¡°That was a bit of convenient happenstance on our part as well, actually. Swiftkick here has great interest in both Touched-Tech methods of travel and trains in particular. She wished to watch this one fly past on its maiden journey. When it did not arrive in the area it should have, just east of Detroit, we sought to find it. With some luck and a bit of help from Swiftkick¡¯s own technology, we drove here in our bus to investigate, only to find the train circling above this forest, in obvious distress.¡±


    ¡°And we couldn¡¯t let anything bad happen to the Skyrail!¡± That was Wren herself, sounding terribly distraught by the very idea. ¡°If people get hurt or die, that¡¯d be bad all by itself, but they¡¯d also stop making more of them. Like how the Hindenburg made them stop making more blimps.¡±


    ¡°We would have simply called for assistance from one of the government-associated Star groups,¡± Birdbrain explained, ¡°but a closer inspection of the clothing worn by the pirates revealed that they belong to the Slammers organization, an aggressive group led by Malignut, a rather dangerous individual who makes a habit of carefully stalking his victims for days or weeks ahead of time, before grabbing them and taking them back to his lair for¡­ bad things. Whoever he was targeting on that train didn¡¯t have time to wait for the proper authorities. He likely would have left with his target before they arrived, even if the rest of his gang remained.¡±


    ¡°But thanks to you guys, we found him, stopped him, tied him up, and now here we are!¡± Wren finished for them, after scarfing down a handful of popcorn. ¡°Two totally awesome butt-kicking magical girl teams!¡± She gave an exaggerated gasp. ¡°Oh no, this is a crossover! Something bad has to happen now to justify all of us meeting!¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t we just deal with the problem already?¡± Landry pointed out, while gesturing toward the bus. ¡°I think this is the winding down part.¡±


    ¡°Nuh uh,¡± Wren insisted, sounding distressed. ¡°This was just the part about how we meet up, and you guys know those dumb pirates weren¡¯t a match for either of our groups alone. There was no reason for us to have to team up to fight them. The only way this makes sense is if there¡¯s gonna be something even worse that comes--¡±


    ¡°Girls,¡± Heilani interrupted, raising a hand to point toward the train. ¡°You said your uncle¡¯s friend wanders a lot? And that pirate leader is known for stalking his victims?¡±


    The entire group stared in the direction of the landed train in that field, even as two rapidly growing shapes came into view. The screams had already started, while one of those now-giant figures stretched a long tentacle out to grab a police car and slammed it into the face of the other.


    Malignut¡¯s long search for another of his kind had paid off, and now the Collision Point had begun.

 Wild 33-09 (Interlude Arc)

    ¡°I sure hope the other two are okay.¡± No sooner had the words left her mouth than Sierra made a very annoyed face while punching her fist. ¡°And that''s just perfect. Now somehow I''ve turned into one of those whiny, sniveling little girls who keep worrying about stupid shit like people getting hurt. Goddamn it, what have those two done to me? Assuming they don''t get themselves killed, I''m gonna slap both of them so hard they''ll know better than to make me feel like this again.¡±


    Beside her, Haley chuckled under her breath. ¡°Yeah, Irelyn has a way of making that a thing. Even while I was gone and refused to go anywhere near Detroit, I always checked the news around there to make sure she was okay. And you saw what I did as soon as she wasn''t.¡±


    After getting that much out, the woman began to walk forward down the ramp. ¡°They''ll be fine. Let''s just do our part of this whole thing and get them the backup they need. This plan¡¯s gonna be for nothing if we don''t move our asses and go let these guys know what''s going on.¡±


    After getting that out, she plucked a gray ski mask from her jacket and held it to the other girl. ¡°Speaking of which, put this on before we get down where the cameras are. I really don''t want to be responsible for these people thinking that Cassidy Evans is walking around their place. That hair dye and tanning job is pretty good but it isn''t going to fool their facial recognition system.¡±


    Muttering a curse under her breath while pulling the mask on as instructed, Sierra followed the woman. ¡°I don''t get it, shouldn''t we already have a welcoming party waiting for us? And why aren''t there cameras already pointed at us? What good is their security if they''re not paying enough attention to notice when someone uses the back door like this? They should have someone standing here already to find out what we''re doing if there''s a portal that goes right to their compound. I mean, what, are they all asleep on their fancy private island or something?¡±


    Haley led her down the ramp to an open circular room with what was very clearly a teleport pad taking up most of it. The raised pad was just large enough for over a dozen people to stand on comfortably, and was surrounded by five tall antennae-like machines with small satellite dishes pointed at it. Yeah, this was definitely the teleporter. That or a very convincing red herring. There was a bright blue phone attached to one of the antennas, and a fancy computer console nearby.


    Pointing to a door on the opposite side of the room, past the teleporter, Haley explained, ¡°There''s a living area just through there. A few apartments, basically. They''re meant for people to stay in when they don''t want to use all the energy it takes to transport all the way across the planet. I drop by now and then when I''m in the area. Sometimes it''s to lay low for a day or two until certain problems cool down enough, other times I come with a date. Either way, they''re probably not exactly completely freaking out the moment they get a notification that I came in. They''ll just be waiting for me to check in and let them know how long I¡¯m actually staying for, and how private the whole thing needs to be. And they do have cameras right inside, but they deactivate when I''m the one coming in to give me a chance to cover up anyone whose identity might be what you''d call sensitive. It''s a courtesy, and why the scanner to make sure it¡¯s me coming in is thorough.¡±


    That made the other girl give a double-take. ¡°Hold on, you bring dates to a lake in the middle of nowhere, then take them through a secret trapdoor on a tiny island and down a ramp to this place? And this actually works out for you? I mean, romantically? Who¡¯re you dating, exactly?¡±


    Haley gave a short laugh at that and shook her head quickly. ¡°No, not that kind of date. Sorry, that''s just what I call it when I have a prisoner that I need to keep out of sight and off the grid for a little bit for one reason or another. I have my own special places for that these days, but once in a while in an emergency, this one comes in handy. I just blindfold them and make sure they have no idea where we are. The only part of this place people like that ever see is the inside of the apartment. They¡¯ve got fake windows in there to make the outside look like any city in the world.¡±


    After saying that, she moved to the nearby blue phone and plucked it off the hook. There were no buttons or anything. She just held it to her ear and waited for a moment while raising a finger for the other girl to wait for a moment. Sierra watched and listened silently as a voice almost immediately spoke up on the other end. Most people wouldn''t have been able to hear that well from where she was standing several feet away, but then again, Biolems weren''t most people.


    ¡°Echo,¡± a man¡¯s voice came, ¡°we down at the farm didn''t know you were going to be stopping by this week. And is there a reason your guest isn''t blindfolded? You''re usually better about that.¡±


    That was kind of an odd phrase for him to use, which probably meant it was a code. Which was confirmed a second later as Haley replied, ¡°Yeah, yeah, and I at the silo didn''t mean to intrude. There''s your reply phrase. Anyway, it''s not that kind of visit, Neil. Check your exterior cameras already, would you? And by that, I mean all the exterior cameras, including the ones in town.¡±


    There was a momentary pause while the man on the other end apparently did just that. Sierra could tell when he saw what was going on, because it was immediately followed by a string of enthusiastic and creative cursing. That Neil guy had quite the potty mouth on him, that was for sure. He carried on like that for a few seconds before cutting himself off. Though it was clear he could have continued in that vein for much longer if he hadn''t decided that actually dealing with the situation was more important than cursing about it. Maybe he was just multitasking and still cursing silently inside his head. That''s what Sierra would have been doing in his shoes. Well, she would have been sending the curses through her connection with Paige so someone else would hear them too. But somehow she doubted that this guy had that sort of option available.


    ¡°Yeah, welcome to the day we''ve been having,¡± Haley replied flatly once there was a second of silence for her to speak up. ¡°Your old friends are here, and it''s obvious they know there''s some sort of backdoor for them to use.¡± She grimaced, glancing up toward the ceiling. Or rather, toward the lake beyond where that boat was still searching. ¡°They aren¡¯t fooling around. It¡¯s not an expeditionary force, it¡¯s a full-on frontal assault and the whole area is totally locked down. So, call in all the favors you need to and get a big fucking cavalry out here to deal with this, because right now it''s just me, Flea from the Detroit Conservators, and a couple¡­ friends without real powers. Meanwhile, these guys brought a medium-sized army with them, and they seem to be about as unlikely to actually take no for an answer as a couple teenaged Mormon missionaries who¡¯ve been told if they get their foot in the door, their crush¡¯ll let them soak.¡±


    Cupping a hand over the receiver, she glanced toward the other girl and whispered, ¡°Google that, it¡¯s hilarious but also kind of sad.¡±


    Through the phone connection, Sierra could hear the man already barking orders to other people there. He was telling them to pull in everyone from the security team and to get some sort of special congressman on the phone immediately, no matter what the guy happened to be doing. Then he came back on the line. ¡°Yeah, our cameras in the old village just went down a second ago, but before they did, we could see Battlement heading for your friends. If he¡¯s here, you¡¯re right, they¡¯re not playing and this isn¡¯t just a guess on their part. They know the teleporter¡¯s there, somehow.¡± That was followed by another string of curses.


    As soon as she processed what he was saying, Sierra pivoted on her heel and started to head back to the ramp. ¡°Wait, you mean that guy in the damn power armor? Well fuck sitting around here waiting then. Let''s get back out there and help them deal with the jackass.¡± She tried yet again to contact Paige to see what was going on over there, but of course it was blocked from inside this damn bunker. Great, now that whole worrying thing was back again, but it was even worse this time. Caring about what happened to other people really was a pain in the ass.


    In the background, she could hear that Neil guy asking how the hell she could possibly have heard what he said from where she was standing if she didn''t actually have any powers. Haley just told him she had very good ears before insisting he get those reinforcements out here to lend a hand as soon as possible, and that they were going back out there to go help the others.


    The phone disconnected then before the man''s voice came over some sort of intercom instead. ¡°Look, I can''t let you guys go out there right now. That boat is right there. If I open the hatch, they''ll see it. For all we know, they''ll be able to get in as soon as they know where it is. They''ve been trying to find this place for years. Who knows what sort of tools they have. If they already know there¡¯s a teleportation system here, they''ll have come here with ways to compromise it. We have vulnerable families in this place, including little kids. We can''t risk having an army come and take over. They just--we can¡¯t risk it.¡± He sounded regretful, but still very firm in his denial.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Sierra snapped without even thinking about what she was saying. ¡°Well our family is out there right now doing their best to stop these guys, and they need our help. So open the fucking hatch before I decide to compromise your teleporter just so I can come over there and shove your head right up your ass.¡± She really wasn''t in the mood to argue about this. Not when she had been cut off from Paige and had no idea if she and Irelyn were even still alive.  In that moment, she didn''t care about anything else besides making sure both her sisters were safe. God, both her sisters. How had that happened so quickly? Paige was one thing, even if that was ridiculous enough on its own considering she had been created to kill and replace her. But even in just these few short days, she had already come to care enough about Irelyn to be this pissed off and freaked out by the idea that she could actually be in trouble. It was just too weird, damn it.


    The man on the other end of the intercom started to apologize uselessly once more, but Haley interrupted before he could continue, and before Sierra could tell him what she thought of his apology and excuses. ¡°Look, Neil, you''ve still got that emergency pantry on the far side of the lake, right? The one with all your food storage in case people get caught out here without the teleporter. Open up those doors. It''ll draw their attention, and as soon as they go investigate, the kid and I will take them down before we go help the others. You know me, Neil. I won''t let them get in here, I promise. You people have been good to me. But she''s right, that''s our family out there.¡± A very brief pause followed before she finished with, ¡°I care about you, but I care about them too. We aren¡¯t just going to leave them alone to face off with Battlement and all his troops.¡±


    Sierra gave a pointed look toward a mostly-hidden camera in the top corner while putting her hand on the hatch. ¡°You should listen to her, Neil. Either follow her plan and make this easier, or I''ll just open this damn thing myself and those guys will know exactly where it is. Your choice.¡± This was taking too long. With every second that passed, she felt more and more anxious about what was going on with the other two. Yup, worrying about people absolutely sucked. It had every wire in her body all twisted around, damn it. She was practically twitching over here, and it was taking everything she had not to say fuck it, connect to the system, and open the damn door herself. Even if that would expose to the man that she wasn¡¯t a human. If it meant getting out there before something happened to Paige and Irelyn, she¡¯d shout ¡®I¡¯m a Biolem¡¯ from the rooftops, and drop fucking pamphlets about just what that meant from a plane. She wasn¡¯t abandoning them.


    Fortunately, it didn¡¯t get that far. After only another second of hesitation (which felt like ten goddamn minutes), Neil agreed and said he was opening the pantry. ¡°Get ready to go, and take this.¡± A small section of the wall slid aside nearby to reveal what looked like a microchip. ¡°You know what it¡¯s for. I¡¯ll open the hatch as soon as they start heading that way. But Echo¡­ make sure you put them down before they can actually call anything in. We can¡¯t let them get any closer than they already are.¡±


    There was a lot Sierra wanted to say to that, most of it unhelpful and rather insulting. But she bit her tongue and kept quiet. That was her fear talking, and she wasn¡¯t going to give it any more of a voice than it already had. Paige and Irelyn were fine, they were okay. They could hold out against one fucking guy with a bunch of weapons and fancy armor, damn it. Even if he did have a whole army of mercenaries backing him up, along with who the hell knew what sort of--okay yeah, she was definitely opening the hatch herself if this fucking guy didn¡¯t hurry the hell up now.


    Finally, just when she was about to start threatening him out loud instead of just inside her own head, the hatch slid open. It had barely moved enough for them to squeeze through before she and Haley were both up and out of the hole. Sure enough, that boat was on its way to the other side of the lake, having clearly heard or seen that other hatch opening. They could both hear the guy in charge ordering one of the others to get on the radio and tell ¡®Rush¡¯ they had something.


    Before the man by the console could actually do that, Haley grabbed Sierra around the waist while extending her other hand. She Echoed some sort of grappling hook, which hit the boat before yanking the two of them right off the ground to send them both flying that way. The men in the boat were still staring in confusion at the spot on the dash where the invisible (and technically nonexistent) grapple had broken through, when the two girls arrived rather violently. Sierra extended her foot, kicking one of the men right off into the water as she crashed into him. Her hands caught hold of the one by the radio and she slammed his face down into the console.


    Meanwhile, Haley dealt with the other couple of men, making sure they were in no shape to tell anyone anything. The whole process took barely a couple seconds once they were there. Then she sat down, took over the boat controls, and pointed it back to land where a few ATVs were. On the way, she threw an Echoed lasso out to the guy who had been knocked into the water to drag him along with them. They sure as hell weren¡¯t going to leave that sort of loose end behind.


    By the time they reached shore, Sierra had secured each of the men, unconscious or not, and taken away any weapon, tool, or phone they happened to have on them. They could just lay on this boat and rethink their lives. Part of her thought it would be safer to just kill them and be done with it, but Irelyn wouldn¡¯t like that if she found out. Neither would Cassidy or the rest of their team, actually, and they would all probably hear about this. So, tying them up and leaving them for the authorities to find it was. Even if it really would¡¯ve been easier and safer to just end them.


    Taking her own phone out as they ran to the ATVs, Haley opened it up with practiced ease and slid that microchip she¡¯d taken from inside the bunker. As soon as it was in place, she closed up the phone and hit a button before speaking into it. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re down and we¡¯re on our way.¡±


    ¡°I saw,¡± Neil¡¯s voice replied. ¡°We¡¯re contacting Senator Parrs right now. As soon as we give him the location, he¡¯ll send in the cavalry to back you up. You guys just have to hold out a bit longer.¡±


    Sierra was so focused on getting to the other two that she very nearly missed it. Something tickled the back of her brain, and she went to step on the nearest ATV before pausing with her hand extended toward it. ¡°Wait, who? Hold on, who are they calling for help?¡±


    ¡°Senator Bernard Parrs,¡± came the reply before Haley had to say anything. ¡°He¡¯s one of our contacts. And the best choice for calling in an army to face down this one. He has friends in about ten different mercenary groups.¡±


    ¡°Including this one,¡± Sierra snapped. ¡°Pa--my sister and I heard them talking about reporting in to someone when we went to warn Flea. We thought they said ¡®Mr. Pause.¡¯ but now I¡¯m thinking it was ¡®Mr. Parrs.¡¯ He¡¯s in on this.¡±


    Neil started to deny that, but Haley cursed sharply. ¡°That¡¯s how they got this far, Neil. How else could they have figured out the backdoor was up here? They had to have inside information from someone. Exactly how well do you know this senator? More importantly, how certain are you that you can trust him with your lives?¡± Even as she said that, both of them were starting up the ATVs to head out, staying just close enough together for Sierra to hear what was said. But whatever the response was, they couldn¡¯t just wait around twiddling their thumbs. Whether the senator ended up really being in on this or not didn¡¯t change the fact that Irelyn and Paige clearly needed help right now.


    Her question was met with a momentary hesitation before the man gave a low yet audible groan and replied, ¡°Certainly not well enough to say you''re wrong right on the face of it. I want to say we can trust him, but if you''re right, calling him could just be giving him a way to drop more troops right on your head.¡±


    As they sped through the trees with the engines humming, Haley pointed out, ¡°It could be worse than that. He could use it as an excuse to try to convince you to tell him where your compound is, so he can send reinforcements there, just in case. Something tells me if he¡¯s gone as far as ingratiating himself with you, he¡¯ll have multiple backup plans for this.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call him,¡± Sierra snapped. ¡°He¡¯s probably had some Tech-Touched set up a way to trace your connection. Yes, even if it¡¯s supposed to be untraceable. It¡¯s what m--people I know would do. Give you a reason to call for help and then trace that while you¡¯re too distracted to think about it.¡±


    ¡°Then what precisely would you suggest, Miss?¡± Neil¡¯s response came flatly. ¡°Do you want us to simply leave you alone out there?¡±


    Haley grunted. ¡°Send some of your own security through the backdoor. Yes, I know you don¡¯t like to leave your place undefended, especially in a time like this. But if they knew where you were, they wouldn¡¯t be going through all this. And if they manage to secure this area, they¡¯ll find the backdoor anyway. Send your people through to back us up, Neil.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re already suited up and on the way to secure the lake,¡± he assured them. ¡°They¡¯ll do what they can.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Sierra replied, even as they poured on the power just a little bit more, coaxing every bit of speed they could get out of the machines. ¡°Now excuse us while we hurry the hell up.¡± Her hand rose, pointing out a trio of incoming silent helicopters that seemed to be heading for the same place they were.


    ¡°Cuz something tells me the others are about to be very outnumbered.¡±

 Wild 33-10 (Interlude Arc)

    So Irelyn had taken off with the bastard in power armor. That removed a major threat, but Paige was still left there facing plenty of problems in the form of heavily-armed troops. Heavily-armed troops who were pissed off about their leader being abducted. In that moment, all Paige could think was that this meant Irelyn trusted her. She didn''t try to take on everything by herself. She removed the biggest threat and trusted the other girl to handle what was left. She trusted her to survive.


    Was it strange that the realization of that made her feel more accepted than anything else Irelyn had actually said? Sure, Paige understood that Irelyn didn''t hate her, and even that she wanted her around. She understood that Irelyn cared about her. But this was more than that. This showed that Irelyn didn''t just care about her, she trusted her to deal with this, and that meant¡­ a lot.


    Sure, there hadn''t been much of a choice in that moment. The two of them would have been torn apart if they had to face that guy and all his troops at once. But still, it meant something.


    Unfortunately, it would quickly stop meaning anything if she let herself get killed by these guys. Even if she only lost this body and her orb survived, they didn''t exactly have any replacements. And she happened to like this body in one piece.


    Even as the remaining troops decided to take out their frustration by shooting her, Paige was already throwing herself into a dive that carried her near the porch of one of the cabins. From there, she pivoted, rising enough to catch the railing with one hand. Her strength was sufficient to hoist herself up and over the railing one-handed like that before pitching herself feet-first through the window and into the cabin itself with a loud crash of shattering glass. All while hundreds of bullets chewed up the ground and wood around her. They weren''t playing and they weren''t taking prisoners. Apparently they were entirely too pissed off for that.


    After landing inside the cabin, Paige rolled sideways along the carpet to get out of the immediate line of fire. She stayed low while bullets tore through the cabin and ripped into every bit of furniture in sight. She could hear orders being given to bring up grenades, and cursed under her breath. Okay, these guys definitely didn''t care about prisoners anymore. Maybe they thought that because there was only one of their potential targets here, they could motivate the others to surrender by killing her?


    Whatever their thinking was, Paige needed to get out of the building before those grenades made it in. She raised her head enough to take stock of where she was and saw a back door. Unfortunately, there were still far too many bullets heading that way. The door itself looked like Swiss cheese. Worse, she could see figures out there. These guys weren''t only in the front of the house. They were in the back as well. Going through that door would only put her directly in their line of fire. It was almost a miracle that none of them had spotted her through the holes they were making with their gunfire. Which was a bit of luck that probably wouldn''t last much longer.


    So, she wouldn''t be going that way. But there was also a second floor to this cabin, and she could see part of it from where she was laying, an upper landing wrapping around the living room. The stairs nearby led up to that second floor, and then there was that wraparound walkway with a safety railing leading all the way across that area. It overlooked the living room below.


    Doing a quick kip up to get back to her feet, Paige turned to the nearby wall and leapt, catching hold of a lamp there to pull herself higher before using it to swing off in the direction of the stairs. She hit the banister for just a second before bouncing off that and jumping the rest of the way over the railing across that walkway. All while those bullets continued to tear through everything.


    They hadn''t realized that she was on the second floor yet, judging by the lack of bullets up here. But she didn''t expect that to last. And even if it did, explosions notoriously didn''t tend to stick to one level. She had to keep moving, no hesitation. No worrying about what was happening with Irelyn and her own opponent. Survive this, deal with these fucks, then she could focus on her big sister.


    Sprinting to the nearest door, Paige kicked it open. It led to a bedroom with a window on the other side. Even as calls went up to throw the grenades, she was already racing toward that window. She heard several soft thunks downstairs as the bombs were tossed in just as she threw herself that way. Her form crashed through the glass. Behind her, the grenades activated, but instead of a loud boom, she heard a violent whistling and crunching sound.


    Unable to focus on that for the moment, Paige found herself diving straight toward one of those soldiers with his weapon aimed at the cabin. He caught sight of her falling form at the last second and started to lift his aim, but it was too late. She crashed into him, taking the man to the ground from the impact. He crashed hard against the dirt while Paige ripped the rifle from his hands. A quick pull of the trigger while it was turned sideways hit the next man standing a bit to the left in the chest. He was wearing body armor, but it was still like a sledgehammer blow, knocking him down as well. Paige was already pivoting, catching the gun by the barrel in order to swing it like a bat to smack another man across the helmet with enough force to put him on the ground just as quickly as his two companions. Then she spun back the other way and hurled the gun hard into the face of yet another who was a bit further away.


    Just like that, faster than those four mercs could react, they were on the ground. Paige snapped a foot out to kick the man she had crashed into just as he started to lift his head once more. Then she glanced over her shoulder to see what had happened to the cabin. The lack of any concussive blast had left her confused.


    Immediately, she saw the reason for that lack of any blast. The grenades were obviously Touched-Tech. They had created some sort of vacuum effect that pulled the entire cabin in on itself and crushed it all into splinters. Which left behind a dark cloud of dust and debris, but that cloud was already drifting away, leaving a view of what amounted to the foundation, chimney, and a few incredibly dense balls of compressed materials.


    Oh, and because the cabin had essentially been removed, when the dust cloud cleared, she and all the troops out front could see each other. They were taking in the sight of their fallen companions, and none of them looked happy about it.


    Adding to that, some helicopters had arrived. Now there were three of them hovering all around Paige with powerful and dangerous mounted mini guns aimed out the side of each by troops who looked very eager to open fire and obliterate her. Not that that was any different than how every other person there looked, these ones just had the biggest guns.


    Angry as they were, it was obvious that the troops there thought they had the upper hand. And why wouldn''t they? She may have just barely escaped their special grenades and managed to put several of them on the ground, but she was essentially facing a firing squad that included several hovering helicopters with mounted guns that could easily turn her into a smear across the forest floor in about two seconds flat. They had every conceivable advantage and she was completely helpless.


    It really was understandable that they believed that.


    Before any command could go up for them to open fire, Paige was already reacting. She took in that entire sight in an instant before her hand snapped out. She had stripped the magazine from the rifle before throwing it at the other guy. And now, she threw that straight into the forehead of  the gunman on the nearest helicopter. He reeled backward as the sturdy piece of metal slammed into his temple, hand reflexively jerking the gun so that as he pulled the trigger, the bullets went safely off into the ground. Well, relatively safely. Several of the nearby troops down there had to dive for cover. Which hadn''t been intentional on her part, but she would gladly take it.


    Already, the other two helicopter gunmen were starting to open fire, as were those still on their feet on the ground. Paige ran straight toward that nearest chopper and lunged as hard and as high as she could. It was low enough, hovering about ten feet off the ground, that she was able to just barely grab hold of the gun barrel while it was firing. The metal burned her hand, but she could deal with that later. Her system was already warning her about tissue damage and demanding she release the barrel. She ignored it and used that to haul herself up into the chopper. She made it inside, grabbing the collar of the gunman while he was still reeling from taking that piece of metal to the forehead. Before he could recover, she threw him out of the chopper and let him fall on his face ten feet below.


    The pilot of the chopper was twisting in his seat, grabbing for a pistol nearby. Before he could aim it at her, Paige stripped it from his hand and pressed the barrel against his neck. ¡°Get out.¡± When he hesitated, she added, ¡°A one-story fall or a bullet to the throat, which one do you think you''re more likely to survive? We can always test it the other way if you prefer.¡±


    Below them, the troops were shouting, trying to figure out what to do about her suddenly being in one of their helicopters. Meanwhile, the gunmen in the other two vehicles were adjusting their aim, waiting for word to go ahead and destroy this one. Being in here wouldn''t buy her that much time. Her main advantage was that she was able to plan and react to things faster than they could. Especially when they had to wait for orders every time she changed the situation.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    As the pilot made his choice and unfastened his harness to jump out, Paige took his place. But she didn''t try to escape. Instead, she locked the helicopter in a collision course with the next one. By the time the pilot there realized she wasn''t trying to fly away, it was too late for him. The choppers collided just as Paige took a running jump and threw herself back out into open sky. That jump carried her far enough to catch hold of the landing struts of the third helicopter, just as the one she had been in crashed into the second. There was a terrifying sound of screaming metal followed by an explosion. That one sent a rush of heat and force that very nearly tore her away from her grip on this last helicopter. But with some effort, she barely managed to hang on. Her body would need time to heal the burns and cuts all across her back once this was over, but she could put that out of her mind for the time being. None of the injuries were life threatening, and the pain wasn''t enough to even slow her down right now. Her Biolem body could regenerate to a limited extent. Faster than a human, at least. Given enough time and fuel, it could repair damage like this.


    What could slow Paige down pretty effectively would be the troops below her, who were trying to shoot her. They were being careful, not wanting to hit the sole remaining chopper, but a few bullets were coming close to the dangling Paige. And the pilot was swinging the thing around to give them a better shot. Cassidy would probably have something jokey to say about that, but Paige mostly just wanted to break his arm. And maybe a couple other bones while she was at it. She really didn¡¯t like being shot at, especially when she was hanging here like a pinata. Time to change this.


    Using the helicopter¡¯s landing strut like a parallel bar, Paige hoisted herself up so that her arms were straight down, elbows locked while her hands gripped the strut. She reached up then, easily keeping her body lifted with just one hand while the other grabbed the ankle of the gunman there before ripping him off his perch. He yelped as she dragged him out of the chopper and let him fall to the ground. The gunshots from below had tapered off a bit, the troops afraid to try to hit her when she was so close to the helicopter itself. Unfortunately, that probably wouldn¡¯t last. This may be their last chopper, but if they knew they didn¡¯t have a chance of saving it, she had no doubt they would blow it up to get to her. She was going to have to make this quick.


    To that end, Paige finished hoisting herself inside the chopper, falling onto her side on the metal floor. In this case, the pilot already had his pistol ready and pointed, but she managed to snap her foot out, kicking the man¡¯s wrist so his shot went wide. Not that it was the only shot. Already, the troops below had apparently given up on getting the chopper back in one piece, and their bullets were pinging off its metal body. The thing had some armor on it, but not enough to stand up to a full bombardment. Especially if those fucks used another of those same grenades that had reduced the cabin below to ruins. Somehow, she didn¡¯t think they¡¯d hesitate to do the same thing to this chopper. Especially considering how pissed off at her they were right now.


    Rolling back to her feet, Paige caught the pilot¡¯s extended wrist before he could adjust his aim again. The pistol in his hand fired three more times, even as he tried to swing a knife at her with his other hand. Her head snapped backward just enough to avoid the blade, letting it whistle past her nose. Then she twisted his wrist, breaking it easily so the pistol fell from his grasp as he howled. The whole time, more bullets were rebounding off the helicopter¡¯s armor, a couple actually managing to go through the open door on the side, narrowly missing the girl herself.


    Right, she couldn¡¯t take the time to shove the man out of the pilot¡¯s seat. Instead, Paige shoved him forward against the console, forcing his body to hit the controls that would send the chopper forward and down, straight at the ground. The chopper had gained some height while she had been clinging to the strut, as the pilot tried to spin it around to give his companions a better shot at her. But they were still close enough that they would collide with the ground in a mere couple seconds.


    In one motion, Paige yanked the pilot out of his seat and threw him out the open side of the chopper. It was already plummeting toward the ground, and she barely had time to throw herself out the other side before it was too late. She did, however, have time to grab one more thing.


    By that point, they were already throwing another of those Touched-Tech grenades at the plummeting chopper. As Paige hit the ground and rolled, she heard that familiar whistling and grinding sound, catching a glimpse of the whole vehicle compressing in on itself until a small ball of metal about the size of a suitcase bounced across the ground a short distance from her.


    The thing she took out of the chopper was the minigun, having managed to unhook it from its stand and pull the thing out with her as she jumped. It fell a few feet away as she landed, but she was back on her feet while the troops were still adjusting their aim. She grabbed the weapon, rising with it in her grip as she pointed it that way. Standing there with the minigun pointed at the assembled troops, she called out, ¡°How many of you do you think this thing can rip through before you put me down? Who wants to be the first to try it? Who wants to draw my attention so the barrel swings your way?¡± She kept her finger close to the trigger, her other hand gripping the handle near the other end to keep the thing level as she let it drift back and forth.


    The troops hesitated. They outnumbered her, sure, but it was very clear that even if they managed to cut her down, she would take a hell of a lot of them down with her. And these guys weren¡¯t mindless first gen Biolems. They were people, living, thinking people. No one wanted to be the one to ensure that she opened fire not only on them, but on everyone around them. Whoever started shooting first would easily be condemning themselves and those closest to them. All she had to do was pull that trigger once and several hundred bullets would rip into whoever was stupid enough to make her aim the barrel that way. They were in a standoff.


    At least they were for a moment. Then something collided with Paige hard enough to make her drop the gun. The next thing she knew, her body was being thrown through a window and into one of the still-standing cabins. It all happened at once, the minigun left behind as she went through the window and crashed into the wall with enough force to almost break through it.


    Before she could recover from that, the same person who had crashed into her and dragged her that way caught hold of her neck and arm. Paige had a brief glimpse of a silver and green mask before she was dragged up the stairs in a blur of motion. One second she was rebounding off the wall he had thrown her into, and in the next, she was all the way upstairs, her body having been dragged violently up the stairs, bouncing off each one before he threw her out the window there, sending her crashing heavily into the dirt below. Then he was there, having gone all the way down the stairs, back out the door and around to where she was laying. She barely had time to lift her head before his foot collided hard with her face and knocked her sideways. She had that helmet on still, thankfully, but it was still enough to do some real damage. If she had been human, it would have knocked her out, at the very least. She would have been down.


    Even for an enhanced Biolem like her, this is a lot to deal with all at once. This was a speedster, there was no doubt about it. Where the hell had he come from? He was just suddenly there, dragging her around and throwing her through windows, kicking her helmet, running circles around her. Apparently that guy in the armor wasn¡¯t the only Touched in this group. This was bad. She had to figure out how to stop this guy, had to collect herself and react before he--


    In most cases, Paige¡¯s Biolem computer mind meant she could think faster than humans. But this was a speedster. Even as she was adjusting her thoughts and planning her next move, he was already reacting. He was suddenly on the other side of her, his foot colliding with her stomach with enough force to knock her onto her side and drive the wind out of her.


    He was there, standing over her. The speedster wore a sleek silver bodysuit with dark green highlights, along with a matching mask with the green visor across his eyes. His mouth was uncovered, and he gave her a smirk before suddenly moving again. He was a blur of motion, yanking Paige to her feet before putting a fist in her stomach several times in rapid succession, twisting her arm and throwing her into a tree hard enough to crack it. As she stumbled backward, he was suddenly on the other side of her, his foot kicking her leg and knocking her to her knees before his arm collided with her throat, knocking her solidly onto her back. All of it happened faster than even she could process.


    ¡°Okay, guess that¡¯s enough,¡± the man decided as he stood over her. ¡°Time to take out the trash.¡±


    He raised his foot, but just before he could bring it down, the sound of a rushing engine getting closer made the man twist the other way. He looked in that direction just in time to be hit by a small, flying figure that had just thrown herself off an incoming ATV that had literally launched itself off a nearby incline.


    Sierra collided with the speedster before he could use his power, knocking him backwards into the dirt as she snapped, ¡°Get the fuck away from my sister!¡± She hit the ground, rolling before popping back up.


    The man recovered quickly, of course. He was back on his feet, facing them with a snarl of anger. ¡°Two of you at once? Fine, show me what you¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Sierra noted, ¡°I¡¯ve got one of these.¡± She started to lift something in her hand. But before she could do anything with it, the speedster had already torn the thing out of her grasp, speeding past them in a blur. He moved so quickly the object was gone and the man was a good twenty feet away before she could so much as blink. That was followed almost immediately by the blurted first syllable of a curse, interrupted by an explosion that sent bits of¡­ well, the man himself in every direction. He literally exploded a second after grabbing the thing out of her grasp.


    From her place on the ground where she had thrown herself the instant the thing was taken away from her, Sierra mused. ¡°You think I should¡¯ve told him it was a live grenade?


    ¡°I probably should¡¯ve told him it was a live grenade.¡±

 Wild 33-11 (Interlude Arc)

    Sierra kept her eyes turned pointedly away from the giblet remains of the man who had been blown up by the grenade. He had been a pretty damn fast speedster, but clearly not fast enough to outrun an explosion that originated from the palm of his hand. His fault, really. His fault for hurting her damn sister, for trying to kill her. She sure as hell wasn''t going to let him get away with that.


    It was a thought that brought a grimace to her face. When she had made it close enough during her headlong race on the ATV to establish a firm connection with the distracted Paige and had seen what was going on, a myriad of possible outcomes had flashed through her mind. That was one of the downsides of having what amounted to a computer brain. She really could imagine hundreds of scenarios over the course of only a bare couple of seconds.


    In all of those imagined scenarios, Sierra had seen her sister being killed by that speedster. She saw Paige being murdered and torn apart, her body destroyed, even her orb broken and irreparable. She saw herself losing Paige.


    As Biolems, they were pretty resistant to permanent damage, and pretty effective fighters. But against someone that fast, they didn''t stand a chance in a straight fight. Even with two of them, the man would have easily taken them apart. Probably literally as soon as he developed any inkling of what they were. Which might have sounded unlikely, but the possibility had filled scenarios ninety-two through one hundred and twenty-four in her panicking mind before it had moved on to the next terrible idea. She had seen so many ways that Paige or both of them could die.


    It had taken her six seconds to cross the distance between where she had been and where those two were once she connected to Paige and saw what was happening. Four of those seconds had been spent letting her mind run wild with panicked ideas of how bad that could go. The fifth second had been spent realizing just how strong her emotions were and how much she would be destroyed if Paige really did die. One second of realization that she really did see the other girl as her sister in a way that she had not truly acknowledged to herself before.


    She had been created to replace Paige. She existed in the first place because their father wanted Paige to be deleted and for her to take over, because she was no longer trustworthy. Paige was a failure. He created Sierra to overwrite--kill her program and completely take her place.


    But now? Now she had spent an eternal four seconds imagining how utterly broken and grief-stricken she would be if she actually lost Paige after everything they had already been through.


    Finally, that last second had been spent realizing that if she cared that much about Paige, she obviously couldn''t let the girl die. That was completely unacceptable. So, she came up with a plan. As the ATV launched itself at the guy and she threw herself off it, her hand had grabbed one of the grenades she found in the pouch on the side of the vehicle. It didn''t look like a typical military grenade, more resembling the clip from a rifle. But she had known what it was.


    She had known that she wouldn''t have time to trigger the grenade before the man took it from her if he fell for the bait. Which meant that she had to activate it first. Yes, she had activated the grenade even as she was tricking the man into taking it from her. With the short timer it had, she wouldn''t have had time to get rid of the thing in any other way. All she had been able to do was cycle the damage of the grenade down to its lowest setting. It was a Touched-Tech weapon, capable of containing its damage radius down to within a couple feet, meant for precise explosions, as oxymoronic as that sounded. But if this guy didn''t take it from her, Sierra would be the one in the explosion. And yet, that was a risk she was willing to take when it came to saving her sister. It was also another reason why she had made certain to position herself far enough away from the other girl that she wouldn''t be caught in the blast as well if everything went totally wrong.


    But things hadn''t gone wrong. She had correctly predicted what the bastard would do the moment she implied that she had a weapon that could beat him. Which, to be fair, she had been telling the truth about that. It really was a weapon that could beat him in the right situation, and he had managed to eagerly throw himself right into that specific situation.


    The relief that Sierra had felt as soon as the man took the grenade from her hand made her positively drunk with giddiness. Yes, she had been willing to die for the chance to save her sister''s life, but she hadn''t exactly been eager for it. As soon as the grenade was stripped from her hand, Sierra had felt a rush of relief. The realization that her trick had worked almost made her slump to her knees, barely able to remain standing. She had a lot of emotions going on.


    There was a rush of feelings that were still swirling through her reeling mind even as the explosion took the bastard out of the equation. He was dead. He was gone. Despite all his power and the fact that he easily could have beaten and killed both of them while not even breaking a sweat, she had managed to outsmart him, and now the man was fucking dead.


    He was dead. He was gone. He wasn''t a threat anymore. He would never threaten anyone again. The motherfucker was scattered in a thousand little giblet pieces and smeared blood across the ground. He definitely wasn''t going to be sprinting around anywhere anymore. And, most importantly above all else, he wasn''t going to ever hurt or threaten her sister again.


    But, obviously, she couldn''t let on about how nervous she had been. She couldn''t let Paige know how terrified she had been over those few seconds that she was going to lose her. The girl might get an ego or something.


    Obviously, the very best way to hide that fear and make it seem like she had been in control of the entire situation in every way the whole time was to give a pithy one-liner. That was what the action heroes did, and she had absolutely been an action hero in that moment. So, she made the casual comment about how she should have warned the man that she was holding a grenade. There, now Paige would never guess how afraid she had been. Instead, she could simply be grateful for the rescue and admit how cool and amazing that whole thing was.


    In the background, meanwhile, the soldiers who had been left in the distance were already being dealt with by Echo. She had been right behind Sierra and split off to deal with those guys. So at least they wouldn''t be interrupted while Paige was gushing over the rescue.


    Already anticipating that, Sierra turned to the other girl and started to give a casual shrug. ¡°I know, I know, you''re about to fall over from how awesome that was. But please, hold your--¡±


    She was interrupted by a quick slap across her face that made her yelp in surprise. Paige was right there in front of her, face flushed with a wide assortment of emotions. She trembled, outstretched hand shaking as she stared at Sierra for a long moment. Both of them looked at one another, barely able to stay on their feet after the events of the past few moments.


    Finally, Paige spoke up, her voice trembling with raw emotion. ¡°You could have died! You could have died, Sierra! The only reason you aren''t dead is because he fell for that trick. If he didn''t fall for it, if he waited a just another second to see what was going on, if he did anything else, you''d be dead! What the hell were you thinking? What the hell were you doing? Why would you do that? Why would you risk that!?¡±


    Sierra didn''t answer at first. She held one hand to her stinging cheek where she had been slapped and tried to pull herself together. A shiver ran through her and she swallowed hard past the lump that had formed in this stupid body''s throat. When she finally found her voice, it didn''t sound nearly as aloof and cool as she wanted it to. ¡°Because you would''ve died if I didn''t. I saw you. I saw him fighting you. I saw what he was doing, and what he would''ve done. I knew what he would''ve done. You would''ve died. I couldn''t save you any other way. I couldn¡¯t fight him straight up. We couldn¡¯t fight him. We aren''t strong enough. The two of us couldn''t beat him, even together. If I didn''t do something drastic, he would''ve killed you. I had to save you. I just¡­ I just didn¡¯t care what happened to me. I can''t lose you, Paige. I just can''t. I¡¯d rather die. You''re my sister.¡±


    Damn it, why was she saying all that out loud? She had to get a hold of herself for fuck¡¯s sake. This wasn''t the time to act like an emotional bitch and completely lose it. Not here, not now. Paige was fine, so why were Sierra¡¯s stupid, traitorous emotions acting out like this? Just shove it all back down, put it away, and act casual. Even if it was obvious that Echo didn''t need any help, considering the majority of the troops had begun to flee as soon as their speedster Touched turned into a cloud of bloody mist, this still wasn''t the right time or place to start all that blubbering about her emotions or whatever. At this rate, Paige was probably gonna laugh at her.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    But she didn''t. Instead, Paige stared at her for a long couple of seconds, obviously running plenty of things through her own mind. Then she slowly raised her hands to set them on Sierra¡¯s shoulders and squeezed briefly before pulling the other girl into an embrace. She hugged her firmly, her grip tight around the smaller Biolem. Sierra could feel a shudder run through the girl. No, wait, it was running through both of them, even as she returned the embrace as tightly as she could. Nothing else mattered right then. The two of them just hugged one another silently.


    It took a few seconds for the pair to collect themselves. It was Paige who did so first, with a gasp as she jerked upright, her grip tightening even more around the other Biolem. ¡°Irelyn! She''s in trouble, she took off with that armored guy to split him off from the rest of these bastards!¡± She was already pivoting on one foot, clearly about to take off at top speed to go find the woman.


    Then she stopped short, because they didn''t have to go anywhere at all. Irelyn was already right there, walking toward them with Haley at her side. The two of them had finished dealing with the scattered remains of the troops who hadn''t run away. It looked like they had been hanging back a bit, giving the other two time to finish hugging rather than risk interrupting something like that.


    Once she saw the two turned toward them, Irelyn moved faster, jogging up to pull the girls into a new embrace. She hugged both of them, crushing them up against herself as she stood up and literally lifted them off the ground in the process. Which looked funny, considering Paige was actually taller then she was. Still, her feet came up several inches, making the girl gasp out loud.


    Setting them back down then, Irelyn snapped her gaze back and forth between the two. ¡°Are you okay? What happened here? Please tell me Haley is exaggerating a lot. Tell me there wasn''t a grenade involved. And what happened with these helicopters?¡± Even as she asked all those questions, it was clear that the woman wasn''t sure if she wanted to know the answers or not. She kept looking around at the signs of destruction scattered all over, her gaze lingering a bit on the splatter of blood where the speedster had been. Seeing that made her grimace a little before she reached up to take the samurai mask off so they could see her face. She clearly wanted to look both of them in the eyes, voice catching on her next words in a way that made Sierra flinch at the thought that she was the one responsible for it. ¡°Are you girls alright?¡±


    Eyes closing briefly as she ran through everything she assumed had to be making its way through the older girl¡¯s mind, Sierra came to the only conclusion she could. Seeing the emotion in Irelyn¡¯s eyes when she looked at the smear on the ground and realized what it was, Sierra knew she couldn''t let Irelyn think Paige had anything to do with that decision. She couldn''t let any of the emotion or judgment for that be directed at her sister. Even if that meant it all had to be directed at her instead. She was the one who actually deserved to be looked at like that.


    So, she cleared her throat and spoke up firmly. ¡°Listen, Paige wasn''t responsible for¡­ for the grenade. She didn''t have anything to do with that.¡± Her hand rose to point at the smear. ¡°I¡¯m the one who made that choice. He was a threat. We couldn''t beat him in a fair fight. If I gave him any chance at all, if we tried to have a real fight with him, he would have killed us. He was too fast. I did what I thought I had to, what had to be done to make sure he wasn''t a threat anymore. I know that''s not really how we''re supposed to do things. I made the choice. I tricked him into taking the grenade because it was the only way I could think of to stop him for good. Don''t judge her for it. If you don''t want me around after doing something like that, go ahead and say so. I¡¯ll leave and you won¡¯t--¡±


    ¡°Oh just shut it, Sierra,¡± Paige snapped immediately, giving her a hard elbow to the side before turning to face the girl. Her voice was firm and pointed, allowing no argument. ¡°I¡¯m not some innocent little flower. I--I did what I had to do too.¡± Her eyes flicked toward the distant remains of one of the helicopters. ¡°I tried to kill as little as possible, because I want to be better than that. But I still killed people. I have before and I will again when necessary. And for the record, you''re not going anywhere without me. I¡¯ve seen how easy it is for you to find trouble. Hell, if you did try to go off on your own, you''d end up wandering right into the middle of a Collision Point anyway.¡±


    ¡°I find trouble easily?¡± Sierra retorted, suddenly grateful for the return to something she actually understood more than all that emotional stuff. Arguing was so much easier than hugging and being like¡­ well, like all that crap. ¡°I''m sorry, why don¡¯t you go ahead and remind me which one of us just saved the other¡¯s life from a damn speedster Touched. Then we can talk about who manages to get in more trouble.¡±


    Paige made a noise in the back of her throat, head shaking rapidly. ¡°Oh, should we start making a list of what sort of trouble we both manage to get ourselves into and then compare them? I''m not sure you actually want to start getting into that sort of math when we get right down to it.¡±


    Drawing herself up to her full, still rather unimpressive height, Sierra made an exaggerated huffing sound of disbelief, fully throwing herself into the chance to argue rather than let herself be overwhelmed by all those dumb emotions. ¡°If you think for one second that I''m just going to--¡±


    A sudden, sharp whistle filled the air. Sierra belatedly realized that Irelyn had been trying to get their attention with a soft word here and there over the past few moments, and had finally just cut through their arguing with that piercing noise. When they both looked at her, she exhaled. ¡°Girls, no one is being blamed for anything. I know--¡± She stopped, glancing to the remains of the man, then to the burned-out helicopter wrecks scattered across the ground. ¡°I know you¡¯ve both done things, both today and in the past, that¡­ that you had to do. I¡¯m not judging you. I--I can¡¯t judge you.¡± She let them start to object before interrupting. ¡°Battlement is dead. The man in the armor is dead.¡± With that bomb thrown into the middle of the conversation, she pushed on. ¡°I killed him. I killed him because it was the only way to make sure he wasn¡¯t a threat anymore. You¡¯re right, it¡¯s not the way we usually do things. In an ideal situation, I¡¯d contain him, put him to sleep, make sure he could be arrested and tried legally. But this isn¡¯t an ideal situation. This is life and death. I just--I wish you two didn¡¯t have to be in this situation. I wanted to make your lives better. I wanted to make sure you never had to make that sort of choice--or at least make it so you didn¡¯t have to do that for awhile. You deserve to be safer than this. You deserve better. I wasn¡¯t judging you just now, I was judging myself for failing to give you the safe situation you deserve. I killed Battlement so he couldn¡¯t hurt you, so he couldn¡¯t take you away from me. Because I wanted you to be safe. And now¡­ now it turns out you had to kill to protect yourselves anyway. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Letting out a heavy sigh as she told herself this wasn¡¯t just going to go away, Sierra focused on the older girl, her¡­ weirdly accepting new sister. ¡°Look, we choose not to kill as much as possible because--well it¡¯s our choice, we want to be better than we were originally programmed to be. But these guys were trying to viciously murder us. I am absolutely not going to lose any sleep over putting them in the ground. And I¡¯m pretty sure Paige won¡¯t either. Right, Paige?¡± There was a moment of silence before she looked that way. ¡°Paige?¡±


    ¡°Go,¡± Paige abruptly announced, turning and giving both Sierra and Irelyn a shove toward the ATVs while jerking her chin that way for Haley¡¯s benefit. ¡°Go, go, go! Now! Get out of here! Move!¡±


    Only then did Sierra realize what Paige was reacting to. She had been so distracted in that moment that she hadn¡¯t noticed the other Biolem had managed to link herself through the communication system in one of those ATVs. She wasn¡¯t getting actual messages or conversations, but she did get what amounted to an automated ¡®get out of the area¡¯ warning for vehicles in this spot. Get out of the area because it was about to not exist anymore.


    Because they were shooting some sort of artillery at it.


    Once she processed all that over the course of about half a second, Sierra immediately grabbed Haley¡¯s arm and started booking it to the nearest vehicle. ¡°Go now!¡± Her own shouted words became a chorus with Paige¡¯s.


    To their credit, the other two didn¡¯t waste any time debating or asking for clarification. They moved immediately. Irelyn grabbed Paige and jumped her over to the nearest bike, then left her momentarily to start it up so she could jump back, grab both Sierra and Haley, and jumped again. She couldn¡¯t jump quite as far with both of them, but they¡¯d also managed to run closer in that time so it evened out.


    They took two ATVs, Paige and Haley on one and Sierra and Irelyn on the other. The ¡®get the fuck out¡¯ warning was blaring so loudly and glaringly through the communication system that Sierra was surprised the two humans couldn¡¯t pick it up all by themselves, lack of internal computer be damned.


    And a moment later, the reason for the volume of that warning became obvious. A tiny rocket, barely the size of a bicycle, streaked past overhead with a loud whistling sound. As the two ATVs raced as quickly as possible out of that area, the rocket angled itself down, slamming into the dirt almost in the direct center of the small abandoned ghost town of cabins.


    Even with their head start, the very edge of the resulting explosion still hit the ATVs, sending them skidding off the path, through the bushes, and off the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a dry riverbed about a hundred feet down.


    Their vehicles dropped away from them, and all four figures began to plummet through the air.

 Wild 33-12 (Interlude Arc)

    Two ATVs careened toward the hard ground at the bottom of a drop that was around a hundred feet or so down, followed shortly by four human (or at least humanoid Biolems in two cases) figures. The quartet and their rides had been picked up and hurled off the path and over the edge of that cliff by the very edge of the incredibly powerful explosion that had just utterly annihilated the ghost town cabins where they had been moments earlier.


    There was no way Irelyn could catch and carry all three of the others in that time, even if she herself would be fine with that sort of drop. Fortunately, she didn''t have to rely on only herself. Her best friend, her partner, the one who had been gone for so long, was there, and the two of them immediately acted as one. In that moment, it was almost like Haley had never betrayed their team, had never betrayed Irelyn herself. It was almost like she had never even left.


    Irelyn reached out to grab Sierra, the nearest of the other two. She yanked the girl up against herself, inverting in the air to put her feet down in order to absorb the rapidly approaching impact. Even acting instantly, the moment they went off that cliff, it was still all she could do to catch Sierra in time while the hard ground was rushing up. A hundred foot drop passed almost instantly.


    Meanwhile, Haley was already using her glider echo while catching hold of Paige. It wouldn''t keep them up for long with both of their weight, especially when they were so close to the ground already, but it slowed their fall just enough.


    Irelyn landed with Sierra in her arms, dropping the other girl off to the side before falling forward onto her hands and knees. Yes, she could easily take a simple drop like that, but being hurtled off the cliff by an explosion that had knocked her off the racing ATV, and then needing to catch the other girl in time had still taken a lot out of her.


    Nearby, Haley and Paige landed and slumped as well. All four of them laid there in the dirt and weeds of that dry riverbed, not even daring to move or say anything until they had recovered a bit.


    After several long seconds while the dust was clearing, Irelyn finally picked up her head, coughing a few times. ¡°Are¡­ are we all alive?¡± One by one, the other three weakly confirmed that they were. If it hadn''t been pretty, and it definitely wasn''t fun, but they had managed to get far enough away from that explosion that it didn''t instantly vaporize them the way it definitely would have if they were still standing anywhere near Ground Zero when that rocket had hit.


    Eventually, after breathing in and out heavily for another moment, Irelyn cursed and groaned while picking herself up, extending a hand to help Sierra to her feet. ¡°Well, apparently they don¡¯t want to ask us questions anymore. And now they think we¡¯re dead, so goodie for us. Maybe we can use that against the bastards. I don''t know about you three, but I''m about ready to find whoever ordered that rocket strike so I can snap the fucker in half.¡± It wasn''t just about the fact that someone had tried to kill her. Not in the least. No, they had launched a fucking rocket at Haley, Sierra, and Paige as well. Whoever was responsible for that was really going to regret every choice they had ever made that led them here before this shit was over.


    Groaning and cursing under her breath, Haley picked herself up as well, rubbing a bruise on her arm. She looked as rough as Irelyn felt. ¡°Something''s wrong. Something changed. They aren''t trying to catch us anymore. They don''t care about getting information. After all this, after everything they went through to find that portal, there''s only one reason they wouldn''t care about finding out what we know.¡±


    Irelyn nodded grimly. ¡°Because they already know where it is. We have to get back there right now. But I don''t think our rides are going to help much with that.¡± She nodded toward the burning, crumpled heaps of metal that had been working ATVs just a minute earlier. ¡°And every other vehicle nearby that we could¡¯ve used just got blown up.¡± It was all she could do not to scream right then. They weren¡¯t in a good position at the moment.


    ¡°So we¡¯ll walk. You¡¯ll jump, we¡¯ll do whatever it takes,¡± Haley was saying, already starting to move purposefully. ¡°We¡¯re not sitting around here twiddling our goddamn thumbs while those motherfuckers hurt my friends. Let¡¯s get off our asses and go.¡±


    ¡°They should already have those troops of their own out protecting the lake entrance though, right?¡± That was Sierra, even as she started to follow the older girl. ¡°I mean, after we warned them not to trust that Senator Parrs guy, they said they were gonna send out their security people to keep the entrance safe. No way they¡¯re sitting ducks right now.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Irelyn found herself piping up at that, looking back and forth between the other two with an uncertain frown even as she and Paige followed them through the ravine at a brisk jog. ¡°You warned the Adherents about who? What did we miss?¡±


    So, Sierra gave them the quick rundown, about the whole overhearing what sounded like Mr. Pause thing, only for the girl to realize that it was this Mr. Parrs. Or rather, Senator Parrs. He had obviously been expecting the Adherents to turn to him for help, which would have given him exactly what he needed to send in his own people to take over their whole organization. That was what this attack was about. But now that they knew better, it wasn¡¯t like he was just going to give up on that. No, now that they knew not to trust him, he was obviously throwing all his cards into the straight-on assault.


    ¡°And yeah,¡± Haley agreed with a grunt once all that was clear. ¡°They¡¯ll be able to hold out for a bit, especially after we--or you guys took out the speedster and the armored guy. No telling what else these bastards brought with them, but losing those two has to hurt. That¡¯s gotta be why they decided to just throw a rocket at us. They don¡¯t need us to tell them where the entrance is anymore, and they wanted to make sure we couldn¡¯t get back to help the Adherents guard the entrance. But you know what, they can just go ahead and start being disappointed. Cuz we¡¯re getting back there right the hell now.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea for that,¡± Irelyn announced, shaking off her confusion and uncertainty about the whole senator thing. They would deal with him once this situation was stable. But right now, the most important thing was to make sure the Adherents were safe. They might have their own troops out protecting that portal, but who knew how long they could hold out against the army these people had brought with them. To that end, she quickly explained what she wanted to try, then asked Haley if it sounded plausible.


    ¡°I dunno,¡± the other woman replied, ¡°but I¡¯m done being patient, so let¡¯s give it a shot.¡±


    First, Irelyn took hold of Haley, readied herself, and then leapt to the top of the ravine. She quickly did the same with the other two. Once they were back on level ground, she held Haley once again, took a breath, and jumped as high as she could manage. That took her almost seventy-five feet up with the single leap. Just as they reached the apex of the jump and before they could start to go back down, Haley started to use her glider Echo, making a motion with her hands as though holding onto the invisible bar while her body straightened out horizontally. Just like that, she was gliding forward through the air.


    The other two had been running along as quickly as they could underneath the pair, and were right there as Irelyn dropped back down. She grabbed Sierra, glanced upward, and jumped again, as far ahead and up as she could go. That leap took the two of them almost exactly to where Haley¡¯s invisible glider had carried her. They got close enough for Irelyn to give Sierra a heave that way so Haley could reach down and catch her hand. That extra weight would, once again, pull her down sooner than she would have dropped otherwise, but it wouldn¡¯t be there for long. Assuming this plan worked.


    Dropping down once more, Irelyn landed near Paige. With a grunt, she hauled the other girl up and launched herself back toward Haley and Sierra. So far, so good. All four of them were in the air now. But it was the next part that was actually going to be tricky.


    As soon as she saw them coming, Haley stopped using her glider Echo. Instead, she used two different ones in rapid succession. First was the parachute. Still gripping Sierra¡¯s arm, she put her other hand through a motion like she was pulling a ripcord, before abruptly being jerked upwards and back by the invisible chute. Immediately after that, her feet seemed to come down on an invisible floor, stopping her fall completely for just a moment. But it wasn¡¯t a floor, of course. Instead, Haley was using her large crate Echo, the thing she used to get higher without using the ladder. Among other uses.


    Obviously, the invisible crate wouldn¡¯t stop Haley¡¯s fall for longer than a second. The thing itself would just start to fall and then fade away. But it wasn¡¯t there for her anyway. It was there for Irelyn. Haley¡¯s larger, more long-term echoes like the ladder, the glider, and this box didn¡¯t actually work right for anyone who wasn¡¯t the girl herself. They could experience very brief physical sensation from them, like momentarily feeling wet when an echoed bucket of water was thrown at them, or getting a bruise from being hit by an echoed brick. But anything with a sustained effect wouldn¡¯t continue to affect them. They might be slowed by the parachute for possibly one entire second before dropping normally once more.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Fortunately, Irelyn only needed one second, or even less than a second, of the crate working for her. She had deliberately jumped higher than Haley, ignoring the strain of carrying Paige with her. As she came down right there, the woman extended both feet, waiting until she felt the (very momentary) sensation of something solid there. The very instant her feet touched that crate Echo, before the solid sensation could fade away, she immediately kicked off it to launch herself higher. At the same time, she grabbed Sierra¡¯s raised and waiting hand. Now she was carrying both girls, while launching off of the invisible crate in the instant before it would cease to exist for her. Yes, this was absurd.


    Meanwhile, now that she wasn¡¯t weighed down by Sierra, Haley shifted to using her glider echo once more and angled herself upward. The wind caught the invisible (nonexistent) wings and sent her flying higher, passing directly under Irelyn and the other two. Now she was quite a bit higher than she had been moments earlier.


    After that, now that they¡¯d gone through the process once and were in the air, the group simply repeated the last couple steps several more times in quick succession. Irelyn would drop through the air with Paige and Sierra, Haley used the parachute to slow herself and stay in one spot, then summoned the crate for Irelyn to jump off of in that single second that it would remain physical for her. She might not have been able to jump nearly as high while carrying the other two as she could on her own without any extra weight, but she could still get about fifty feet or so with each leap.


    Soon, by doing that repeatedly, they were as high as they could reasonably get. High enough for the last part of the plan to work, hopefully. All of that had only taken about thirty seconds or so, even if it had actually felt like at least twenty minutes. Then it was time for the next and final step. Which amounted to Irelyn, Paige, and Sierra all grabbing onto Haley while the latter was using her glider. Yes, the combined weight would drag them down much faster than it would have otherwise, but they were high enough by that point that it didn¡¯t matter. They were able to glide all the way back to the lake much faster than they could have walked, or even run. And whenever they got too low, Haley would create a crate echo for Irelyn to jump off of while carrying the other two, giving the other woman a chance to angle the glider echo upward to regain lost height. It wasn¡¯t the most graceful or easy method of travel, but at least it worked.


    Even better, it meant they approached from a direction the mercenaries couldn¡¯t expect. Not that they would have been expecting to see them anyway, after that explosion, but still. Approaching silently from the air was easily their best move when it came to taking those people by surprise.


    Irelyn didn¡¯t want to go into another fight this soon, especially after what they had all been through. Not only surviving that explosion, but also because Paige had barely survived her encounter with all those soldiers and the speedster. Plus, even if she didn¡¯t want to admit it, Sierra had definitely been emotionally affected by what she¡¯d had to do with the grenade to stop that speedster. Maybe not so much the act of killing him, though Irelyn was pretty sure she was affected by that in some way. But even if she didn¡¯t care about the killing part at all, the stress of exactly how she had gone about it, the fear that she could have died if he didn¡¯t fall for the trick, had to be a lot.


    Then there was Irelyn herself. Yes, she had killed before, albeit rarely. It definitely wasn¡¯t completely new to her. But she still didn¡¯t enjoy it. Between that and the whole fight that had led up to making that choice, she would have preferred to take a break for at least an hour or so, just to let herself process things and breathe a little bit. Instead, she had rushed back to get to Paige, only to find out that both her new sisters had gone through a lot. And then the explosion happened.


    Yes, truthfully, if Irelyn had her way she would have chosen to give all of them a break for the rest of the day, at least. They needed a vacation from their vacation. But that wasn¡¯t going to happen. Senator Parrs¡¯ mercenaries, if he really was the one behind all this, weren¡¯t going to let them call timeout. They had to get back to that lake and stop these fucks before they took over that portal. From what Irelyn had heard, there were children in that place, families who stayed there. These bastards had to be stopped now, before this whole thing ended up getting so much worse than it already was.


    And there it was, just ahead of them. The lake was looming far below, and they could already see signs that their assumptions were correct. The mercs knew where the portal was, or at least the right area. A swarm of drones were flying all around, occasionally sending a small beam of bright light, a laser, down into the trees. A single helicopter, possibly the only one the mercs had left, was hovering there, the machine gunner filling the woods with bullets. Meanwhile, dozens of those mercenary troops, the footsoldiers, were trying to make their way to the water, clearly using the drones and helicopter to clear a path. Or at least attempting to. For the moment, it looked like they were being held back. Even as Irelyn took that in, she saw the helicopter swing away through the air to avoid a rocket that was fired up at it. Two of the drones weren¡¯t as lucky when it came to a second rocket, and a third went down under a bit of sustained gunfire from somewhere within the trees.


    All of that helped, but it wasn¡¯t enough. The helicopter was still swinging back around, even as the machine gunner opened up on the area those rockets had come from. The troops on the ground were spreading out and starting to push forward. There were more drones. The Adherents¡¯ security people couldn¡¯t keep up their defense forever. They needed help.


    Paige dropped first, letting go of Haley so she could dive straight into two of the soldiers who were just heading into the woods. Sierra let go right after her sister, crashing into a couple more. The two Biolems immediately began hitting the rest from behind, taking them by surprise.


    Irelyn released her friend just after the other two, aiming for the largest cluster of troops. As she fell, the woman could see Haley continuing on toward the helicopter, dismissing the glider echo at the last second so she could land inside and deal with the gunner and pilot. And from the sound of things, she sure wasn''t being gentle with them.


    That was okay, Irelyn wasn''t exactly in the mood to be gentle either. She came down right in the middle of a large cluster of the mercenaries, who were just turning to see what was going on as the sound of Paige and Sierra dealing with the others reached them. Suddenly, before they could react to that, the group was thoroughly distracted by a problem of their own.


    Thankfully, the Adherents¡¯ people seemed to realize what was going on, and quickly pressed the advantage. Just like that, it was the mercenaries who were on the defensive, caught between the newcomers and the security team. There were only about ten of the Adherents, but they were wearing some sort of protective vests that projected a light personal force field around them, and carried plenty of weapons. One of them had his own suit of power armor. He was the source of those rockets that were taking down the drones.


    As for the helicopter, Haley got rid of the occupants before landing the thing properly just at the edge of the lake. As soon as it was down, she took over the machine gun and began tearing through what remained of the drones. That gave the Adherent in the power armor a chance to turn his full attention to the ground troops. One of their jeeps with a mounted gun tried to drive in, only for its driver and passengers to dive for safety just before one of those rockets blew it apart.


    Those couple of minutes passed in a blur. All Irelyn could do was keep dealing with the threats in front of her while keeping half an eye on the others and helping when they needed it. Everything was just a flurry of motion and so much violence. The Adherents had a chance now, but it wasn''t easy by any stretch of the imagination.


    Finally, the last few of the mercenary troops who were still on their feet had fled. Irelyn wanted to go after them, but she didn''t dare risk leaving the others, just in case. It was more important to make sure everyone here was safe. They could get information out of the ones who weren''t able to flee, and hopefully find out if there were any more surprises.


    The Adherent in the armor turned to face the four of them as soon as they had regrouped. The armor itself was gray and black, stood about eight feet tall, and quite a bit wider than the one Battlement had used. It looked like it was meant to be a mobile weapons platform, and Irelyn was pretty sure he had much stronger things on there that he hadn''t wanted to risk deploying in this sort of close range. He was probably supposed to be artillery support.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± he started, ¡°we owe you more than we can say.¡± His words were met with a chorus of agreement from the security troops in their red and gray uniforms, including those forcefield vests.


    Haley introduced them. ¡°Girls, this is Baton. Yes, he¡¯s fully aware of the irony of the name given all the guns and missiles and a distinct lack of melee weapons. He thinks it¡¯s hilarious.¡±


    Baton started to say something then, before his armored body abruptly jerked around to look back at the lake. ¡°Oh shit, back, back, get back! Everyone move!¡± Even as he said that, the man was starting to lumber that way, gradually picking up speed as he waved his arms for his troops to get moving.


    Irelyn was already moving after him, the others right with her. ¡°What? What happened?¡±


    Without looking back at her, Baton replied, ¡°Someone got through while we were distracted. They¡¯re not sure who, or¡­ or what they¡¯re capable of, but they already killed two of my men back on the other side. Whoever they are, they have powers. Very dangerous powers.¡±


    ¡°Flea--¡± Haley started.


    ¡°I know,¡± Irelyn interrupted. She started to look at the other two, mouth opening.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even,¡± Paige immediately put in, cutting her off. ¡°We¡¯re going too. We¡¯ll help.¡±


    Irelyn felt like arguing, but pushed it down with a sigh. ¡°Okay then.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go finish this.¡±

 Wild 33-13 (Interlude Arc)

    This had already been quite the vacation. Paige could hear Cassidy''s voice laughing at her in the future if she ever tried to give them shit about always being able to find trouble wherever they went. Seriously, Paige and the others had come out to what was supposed to be the middle of nowhere, a nice quiet wilderness place to relax and get away from everything. They were supposed to unwind.


    And how had that gone? They were fighting what amounted to an entire mercenary army complete with their own artillery and air support, she''d been forced to jump into more than one helicopter while under gunfire, barely avoided being super-compressed by a Touched-Tech grenade, and she''d very nearly been killed by a speedster. In fact, she absolutely would have died if not for Sierra, who had only saved her by almost blowing herself up. It was kind of a lot.


    And now what were they doing? After all that, they were going through the portal to this Tech-Touched group¡¯s private island somewhere in the middle of the ocean so they could finish this whole thing. Someone had made it through the portal. Someone was there on that island and had already killed people. Whoever they were, they had to be found and stopped. There were innocent civilians in that place. It wasn¡¯t just Tech-Touched there, though that would¡¯ve been enough on its own to want to put a stop to this. No, it was worse. There were families there, young children who had lived on that island their whole lives and didn¡¯t know anything else.


    Yes, that was what mattered. Whoever the intruder was, they had to find the person and stop them before they could hurt anyone else. And yet, as Paige and the others ran right over the water, stepping on the invisible forcefield bridge that had appeared at a gesture from Baton so they wouldn¡¯t have to swim, Paige found herself only able to think about one thing. Even as the hatch on that little island opened to allow their group to descend into the bunker area to reach the portal itself, she glanced toward Irelyn. Her voice was flat. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t want to go to any more islands.¡±


    ¡°You were pretty emphatic about it, actually,¡± Sierra put in, making it obvious she had been thinking about the same thing too. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure there were some pretty elaborate threats involved.¡±


    ¡°They weren¡¯t that elaborate,¡± Irelyn insisted, glancing over her shoulder as they reached the open hatch. Paige looked that way too. The rest of the Adherents¡¯ security people were ragged and tired after having spent the past however long it was defending this portal. Now they had found out that someone had gotten through anyway and killed two of their friends, two of their team members. To say nothing of who else might die before this was over. All those people back on that island were in danger now. They were the people this security team was responsible for.


    Yeah, no wonder they looked worn out. Paige knew she and Sierra were only still going as well as they were thanks to the Biolem thing. Irelyn was able to siphon energy from people to keep herself moving quite effectively. And Haley? Well Paige¡¯s running theory on that was that Haley was running off of sheer spite. These people were some of the only ones she actually cared about, so there was no way she was going to let a little thing like exhaustion slow her down now.


    Irelyn, after giving that brief glance that way, exhaled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go to an island, especially a tropical one. I told myself I¡¯d stay away from them for good. But this is more important. Saving those people, keeping that place safe no matter where it might be, matters more than me having a few bad memories about islands. So yeah, I¡¯m going. And I know I can¡¯t convince you two to stay here, but I want you to be careful. We don¡¯t know who this person is. We don¡¯t know anything about who made it through aside from the fact that they¡¯ve already killed two people.¡±


    By that point, they had gone in through the hatch and approached the raised teleport pad itself. At a word from Baton, the transport machine powered up once more, those five antennae-like things surrounding the circular pad humming to life and projecting beams of energy that met right in the middle. Soon, a large, square glowing portal had appeared, crackling with energy.


    Except as soon as it appeared, the portal shrank by about half. It snapped and popped, the portal seeming to bend a bit unnaturally. Well, transportation portals like that were always unnatural, but still. It looked very sickly, like it was barely able to maintain itself and could utterly fail at any second. ¡°Um,¡± Paige found herself muttering, ¡°it¡¯s not supposed to do that, right?¡±


    Baton cursed, waving a hand to send one of his men toward one of those machines. ¡°It¡¯s the other side, whoever went over there sabotaged it on that end. They¡¯re trying to stop us from getting through there. Stabilize it!¡± That last bit was snapped toward his guy, who was frantically working the controls before ripping one of the side panels off to do a bit of quick jury-rigging.


    Haley stood right at the bottom of the platform, facing the crackling portal. She had started to move as though trying to go through the thing, but Irelyn caught her arm and insisted she wait. They had no idea what would happen or where they would end up if they went through it now. She might have been willing to set aside her hatred of islands for the moment to save those people, but risking being turned inside out, split apart, and sent to Spain, or even ending up back on Breakwater through some horrific one in a million chance was clearly just a bit too far.


    It seemed to take a million years, especially going off the number of curses Haley and Sierra both managed to spit out while anxiously standing there staring at the twisting, contorted portal,  but finally, the man working on the machine looked over. ¡°Four people, I can keep it steady enough for four people to go through, that¡¯s it. And boss, we¡¯ve got more problems. I¡¯m picking up enemy reinforcements coming this way from the town. Looks like they¡¯re not done quite yet.¡±


    Baton gave a vicious and rather creative string of curses that would have made even the filthiest of sailors blush. Then he looked at Haley, his face invisible behind that heavy armor. ¡°You know the island. Take your people, stop whoever that is. We¡¯ll keep things clear on this side and make sure no one else makes it through. Do whatever you need to, just deal with that¡­ whoever it is.¡±


    There was no more discussion, they didn¡¯t have time for it. Haley was already clambering up to stand on the pad, with the others right behind her. Paige knew that, in a perfect world, they¡¯d be discussing just how dangerous this was, planning out what to do, getting some sort of map from Haley or these other people so they¡¯d know what the layout of the island actually was. There were so many things they could do in a perfect world. But this wasn¡¯t perfect, and the longer they stood here delaying, the bigger risk that more people over there were going to be killed.


    So, Paige was right behind the others. The four of them exchanged the briefest of glances. Haley was the only one whose expression could be seen, given Irelyn had her costume, Paige was wearing the helmet, and Sierra still had some gray ski mask that Haley had given her. They made quite the eclectic-looking group, that was for sure. And now that they had looked at one another for that single moment, making it clear at least in body language that none of them were staying behind, the quartet walked together right toward that flickering, glowing square portal.


    There was a part of Paige that was nervous about this. After all, they didn¡¯t know how good that tech guy was at his job. They had no way of knowing if he really was able to stabilize this portal enough for going through it to be safe, or if it would stay that way long enough for them to actually make it. They didn¡¯t know anything about this, really. Hell, they didn¡¯t even know who or what this threat was they were going through to try to stop. They were operating on almost no information whatsoever. There were so many red flags frantically waving themselves in Paige¡¯s face that she almost couldn¡¯t see anything else. But none of that mattered. Those people were in trouble, and Haley was going to go try to save them. Which meant Irelyn was going. Which meant Sierra and Paige were going. And honestly, at this point, Paige was pretty sure she and Sierra would go even if it was just Haley. The other woman had endeared herself to them very quickly over these past few days. They were already a strange sort of family. More of one than any of them had had before, at least. Whatever happened, they were going to see this through.


    At least the actual transport was smooth enough. Paige had expected to feel it twisting through her, had expected a rather rough trip under the circumstances. There was even a part of her that was anxious about how the unstable portal would affect her orb-self. That was always a fear when she interacted with Touched-Tech stuff like this, especially when she couldn¡¯t even explain what she was to the people behind them to get reassurance about how the tech actually worked.


    But no, she barely felt anything at all. There was a very momentary flicker across her body, a slight tingle that felt as though her limbs had just fallen asleep or something. Then it faded, and she wasn¡¯t in the same room she had been in just one step earlier. The portal had done its job.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    The room they were in now looked like--well like a hotel lobby, honestly. The slightly raised platform they were standing on was a far cry from the one they had just left. This one was covered in expensive wood paneling, and instead of having those antennae-machines surrounding it, the portal appeared to be projected from an assortment of semi-hidden dishes that were almost flush with the ceiling itself. The rest of the room was the same way. There was soft, pleasant music playing from hidden speakers, some sort of circular welcome desk was ahead of them complete with what looked like pamphlets about various activities or projects arranged next to a touchscreen monitor for checking in, and just behind that desk was a tall statue of a rocket ship with a four-foot wide globe of the Earth underneath it. The ship was heading for the stars, as evidenced by the glowing patterns set into the ceiling just above it.


    The room in that bunker had had a very temporary feel to it, or at least it had seemed like function was the only thing that mattered. But this room was obviously meant to appeal to people being brought in and make them feel like they were entering a fancy, expensive, relaxing place. No, not even just relaxing. Hopeful. Enthusiastic. The rocket statue there, aimed at the glowing stars with the Earth left behind, was meant to show anyone who came in here what they were working toward. The Adherents wanted to turn humanity into a full space-faring civilization.


    In any case, the aesthetic was completely different. The room they had just left was obviously a behind-the-scenes sort of place, meant to allow staff to move back and forth from this island to that area back in the US easily and quickly without caring about how pretty it was. It made Paige wonder just how many other places had portals that these people were using, or planning to use, for future guests. It seemed very clear that this place was being set up so that they could transport VIPs in, show off how much work they were doing, and either recruit them to help or simply get some monetary investment from them. That was probably the big part, getting donations. It wasn¡¯t as though turning humanity into a space civilization was going to be cheap.


    No sooner had the rest of them taken in the sight of this lobby area than Haley was dashing across the room to the touchscreen monitor at the desk. On the way, she called out, ¡°This place used to be a lot more like that one we just left. They¡¯ve fixed it up recently. Spread out, see if you--¡± She stopped short, grimacing as she stared at something behind that desk. There was a slight tremble in her voice then, as her fist tightened. ¡°God damn it, Neil. You shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve been--¡± Cutting herself off, she slammed that tightened fist down against the desk, tearing her gaze away from what was very obviously a body laying behind it. ¡°Spread out, look for any sign of where this bastard went! I¡¯m gonna check the logs for what doors were opened. Internal communications seem to be down, so we can¡¯t just call up Saunders or his VPs. They¡¯re probably locked down in the emergency bunkers they¡¯ve got spread across this whole place.¡±


    The whole room was ovular in shape, with the portal they had appeared through at one end of the oval, the desk about one-third of the way across, the rocket statue exactly in the middle, and a seemingly random assortment of doors spread out along the wall of the other half of the room. Including two large glass doors right in the middle, directly opposite the portal platform, that seemed to open out into a balcony of some sort, judging by what Paige could see at a glance.


    Irelyn went that way, while Sierra went toward the right side of that part of the room. Leaving Haley working quickly at the computer to try to find out what she could, Paige sprinted to the left. She found her way to a window next to the left-most door, glancing that way just long enough to take in the scenery surrounding this welcoming building. It looked like they were in some sort of tall, circular tower. Far to the left and ten or so stories down through the window she could see a pristine beach in the distance, with beautiful blue water, several boats moored at a dock just waiting to be taken out, and what looked like a couple of fancy VIP cottages with every amenity.


    There were wooden walkways leading from the beach up through well-tended gardens that were dotted with statues similar to the rocket right here in the entryway. It also looked like there were information touchscreens next to each statue, probably allowing a person to find out more about whatever each of them was supposed to represent. The statues were of various pieces of technology both real and still being dreamed up, or various planets and moons, important people through history, and more. Everything from the Wright Brothers with their first glider to a sort of ridiculous science fiction starcruiser that probably couldn¡¯t exist for another few hundred years. It was even more clear than it had already been that this whole area was set up to impress either potential donors or Tech-Touched whom these Adherents were trying to recruit. Or possibly lawmakers from any given country so they could get the person to nudge something the way the Adherents wanted it to go for their space goals.


    Either way, there was no one in sight. It seemed like Haley was probably correct about these people sealing themselves up in their safety bunkers, which was just fine with Paige. As long as they were locked away, there was less chance of them being used as hostages or even killed.


    After that brief glance, Paige grabbed the door in front of her and yanked it open while stepping aside just in case there really was someone waiting there. Getting no reaction, she glanced around the edge and peered in carefully. It was a short hallway leading to what looked like a couple small offices, including one with security monitors and a gun safe. The safe was open and appeared to have been thoroughly ransacked. Or, if whoever had taken the weapons was supposed to be doing so, they had definitely done it in a real hurry and thrown things around.


    There was no one in there now. Paige made sure of that with a quick walkthrough. By the time she came back out, Haley was calling out to them. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve got it! I¡¯ve got the path they took, the doors they opened and--fuck, they¡¯re headed for the primary bunker. It¡¯s locked down tight but I¡¯m not gonna fucking trust that. Come on!¡± She was already heading for those glass doors.


    Paige and the other two joined up with her, all four of them heading right out onto the balcony overlooking the island. From here, they could see multiple other buildings, though this tower they were on was clearly the only one meant to impress guests. The others all looked fairly uniform and functional. To the right, they could see a large manufacturing warehouse, about four stories tall (so much smaller than this tower), with enormous rolling doors covering the front and sides. Those doors were open to reveal what appeared to be one of the world¡¯s largest mechanic shops. There were dozens of vehicles in various stages of assembly scattered through the place, many with what were obviously Tech-Touched added parts, including weapons. From the tools that were lying scattered around, it was very clear that people had simply dropped what they were holding before running for the bunker. It had all obviously happened in a hurry.


    Haley started to head down the wooden walkway bridge in front of them. There were some sort of small projector things along the side of the bridge, which Paige belatedly realized were supposed to create a sort of gradually sliding field that would carry someone along so they didn¡¯t have to walk, like the moving walkways at the airport. But they were disabled now.


    Before Haley could go more than a couple steps, Irelyn stopped her. ¡°Let¡¯s try to get ahead of the problem. Where are we going?¡± She waited until Haley pointed far beyond that mechanic shop to the right, then took Sierra by the arm and leapt that way. It only took her three quick jumps to get all the way to the roof of that shop, rebounding off a couple other bridges and the top of a rocket statue in the process.


    Haley, meanwhile, took hold of Paige, made sure she was ready, then jumped off the balcony. She used her glider, angling that way. They had crossed about half the distance by the time Irelyn left Sierra on the roof of the shop and made her way back. She jumped from one of the nearby walkways, catching Paige as Haley released her. As Paige found herself held tightly against the smaller woman, she tucked her legs just in time to avoid taking a rather rough landing against a tall statue of a man she didn¡¯t recognize. Irelyn¡¯s feet impacted the heavy stone just long enough to rebound off it, leaping back to land right on that autoshop roof.


    They kept jumping and gliding from there, following Haley¡¯s directions. This primary bunker was apparently buried deep in a mountain at the center of the island. Whoever had come here ahead of them didn¡¯t have that much of a head start, considering they had to disable various security measures and open doors and gates as they went, while Irelyn and Haley could bypass all that. Maybe, hopefully, that would mean they could get there before it was too late.


    The mountain itself was the only one on the island, and apparently the Adherents were building their main spaceship, the one that was supposed to take them away from this planet entirely, right in the center of it. The bunker was buried deep below, and was supposed to have enough supplies and oxygen to allow a hundred people to survive for ten years inside.


    Landing in a dirt lot directly in front of what looked like a mine entrance in the side of the mountain (it had actually been a mine before being converted into the way to enter the main bunker), the four girls exchanged looks, then focused on the entrance itself. There was a glowing forcefield over it, and beyond that, what appeared to be a steel vault door. According to Haley, that was only the start of the protections. There were half a dozen similar vault doors just to reach the main entrance into the bunker, with an assortment of protections and defenses making it more and more difficult and dangerous to get in the further you went. That included protections against various Touched powers. Once the occupants were locked inside, it was next to impossible to get them out.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Haley started while looking around, ¡°I think it¡¯s safe to say we¡¯re not gonna be stupid enough to do these fuckers¡¯ job for them by trying to get in there ourselves. We got here first, so let¡¯s--¡±


    That was as far as she managed to get before the vault door behind her audibly slid open. The forcefield had vanished. With a series of heavy thunking sounds, every vault door throughout that tunnel opened, one by one, leading the way to the actual bunker free and clear. All the defenses had been disabled, the doors were sitting wide open.


    ¡°Uh,¡± Haley managed, staring that way along with the others, ¡°okay then.


    ¡°That¡¯s kinda weird.¡±